The Smell of Heroism

I recently decided what my superpower would be if I were a superhero: The ability to make others smell roast beef. With a simple gesture of my hand in your direction, you would begin to detect the odor of roast beef. It might not seem like a big deal at first, but as time went on you’d start to wonder where that smell was coming from. Then you’d conclude that the smell must be coming from you. You’d wash your hands, but still smell roast beef. You’d change your clothes, but still smell roast beef. You’d take a shower, change the sheets, shampoo the carpets…but still smell roast beef. Pretty soon, you’d start thinking it must be some sort of neurological problem. You’d see your doctor, get an MRI, and be told nothing is wrong. The doctor would either think you’re making it up or he’d refer you to a psychologist. Your family and friends would watch you twitch and break into a cold sweat every time an Arby’s commercial came on TV.

To really use this as a superpower, I would have to use this to fight crime. Sure, I am not going to stop the Riddler from robbing a bank with this one, but I’d be going after bigger fish. I would use my power to go after the Lex Luthor and Norman Osborn type villains; the ones who have long, elaborate plots to take over the country or are trying to run an international private army. Imagine Lex in his command center trying to coordinate the theft of the final components for his latest doomsday machine and he has to stop to enact an edict that his henchmen and minions wash their hands and use mouthwash after their lunch. Instead of overseeing the raid on the secret government compound in Utah, he’d be diverting resources to install new air filters in his underground lair. Before long, his scientists would be pulled off of the doomsday machine to design him some sort of mega-respirator. The smell of roast beef would bring his fiendish plot to a standstill. That's the kind of hero I would be.

Who is Amber69 and How Does She Know About My Small Tool?

I do not go through my spam folder often. I just kind of assume that it is catching all the junk I do not need to see. But last night, curiosity got the better of me and I decided to check the folder to see if I was missing anything important. And boy, am I glad I checked!

I do not know what to do about it, but there are people out there who seem to know way too much about me! Take the message from Amber69 with the subject line, "Big Solutions for Your Small Tool." I take her criticism to be a little harsh, but how does she know me? And how has she seen me naked? Or has she been talking to someone, and if so, who are they? But the problem is bigger than Ms. 69, because I had other alarming messages such as, "Why she's not satisfied", "Growth you need", and "She's not fantasizing about you."

But all is not lost. Monique McQueen says she can "Recharge My Love Weapon." Big75 says he can, "Give my bomb a longer timer." And I am intrigued about Charlynn's promise to show me how to "Beat the neighbors in a love marathon." I am a bit concerned about how my neighbors figure into this, but I obviously have problems that need to be addressed, so I should at least hear Charlynn out.

My Kid Should Watch More TV

That was the gist of the thought I had this morning. I'd fed him breakfast and popped on an episode of Curious George, then I hopped in the shower. Within 10 minutes, he was inside the bathroom gabbing at me and bopping a punch balloon against the shower curtain. All I could think of was, "Man...he used to watch at least 2 hours of TV in the morning if he could. What happened?" He's 4 years old, and for the last few months he's been all, "Play with me, Daddy!" and "Read me a book, Daddy." What's an anti-social introvert to do?

I've tried to get him into video games. I've bought him action figures. He has every Pixar DVD. I DVR The Spectacular Spider-man twice a week. But still, he seems to crave human interaction. What am I doing wrong? I have it on good authority from my parents that I used to play quietly with my Star Wars action figures for hours at a time when I was 5 years old. Obviously, the proper genes were not passed along.

This is what I get for marrying someone who spent high school doing musical theatre. Apparently that extrovert gene is dominent.

Subtitled

In the past three weeks I have watched two foreign films that were really good. I am not going to get into any analysis or anything, I just wanted to mention them.

The first was Let the Right One In, a Swedish vampire film. This was very different from any American vampire film I have ever seen, and I'm a fan of vampire films so I have seen a lot of them. Basic premise: Lonely twelve-year-old boy, part of a broken home and plagued by bullies, meets the new girl who just moved into the apartment next door. They become friends, even though she does not go to school and only comes out to play after sunset. And oh, someone was recently attacked in a nearby park and the killer attempted to drain their blood. It is one of those movies that is not quite what you'd expect and does not play out according to any traditional Hollywood formula. This one is sweet and twisted at the same time.

Switching gears to the other foreign film: I watched the French thriller, Tell No One. There is nothing revolutionary about this one and it should appeal to just about any American movie-watcher who likes the mystery-suspense genre, but it's freakin' good. The movie is actually based on a book of the same name by U.S. novelist Harlan Coben. Basic premise: Young doctor Alex Beck and his wife are assaulted one night; he is hospitalized and she is murdered. Eight years later, Beck receives an email which offers proof that his wife is alive and tells him "They're watching. Tell no one." A lot of great twists and turns in this one if you are a fast reader and can keep up with the subtitles.

I hear that both movies are being adapted for U.S. versions. Tell No One will do just fine, although I'm sure a rock-music soundtrack and more gunplay will be added. I read the book last year and I would recommend that too if you are a reader. I cannot imagine that Hollywood would do anything but butcher Let The Right One In. I am not a film snob by any means, but I just can't see a major studio being brave enough to stay true to the whole plot. So rent that one an enjoy it now as it was meant to be seen.

Drood

Well, I just finished Dan Simmons’ Drood. Simmons most recent other novel was The Terror which was fantastic. I love the idea of taking historical events and staying as true to actual events as possible while adding a supernatural element to the story. The Terror did this remarkably well. Drood was too much.

First I guess I need to mention the premise, because it’s a cool one: Basically, it follows the final years of the life of Charles Dickens in the 1860s. It offers a supernatural (maybe) explanation behind his failing health, eccentric behavior, and the inspiration for his unfinished final novel, The Mystery of Edwin Drood. The novel is narrated by his friend and fellow author, Wilkie Collins. The central mystery of the book is whether or not a mysterious and terrifying figure known only as Drood actually exists and did he enter into some sort of diabolical bargain with Charles Dickens? Weird, but so weird I was very excited to read it.

The best thing I can say after readying all 771 pages of this book is that I still like the premise. But DEAR GOD it’s boring. Simmons does a good job, I suppose, of writing in the style of an author from the 1800s, but I’ve read shit like that before and it’s dry as hell. I just don’t appreciate the “Classics.” I’ve never finished a novel by Dickens and I’ve never read Collins. In Drood, you get 300 pages of nothing happening, about 200 pages of something almost happening, and 271 pages of something sort of happening. It takes forever to actually get to the point.

Instead of this book, try to find a theater production of The Mystery of Edwin Drood. I saw it a few years ago at the Shaw Festival in Niagara-on-the-Lake and it is very good (and funny).

Let's Form a Mob

I've never been part of a mob and you don't see many good old-fashioned mobs nowadays. I think it would be cool to be part of something like that. I'm not talking about a protest group; I don't feel that strongly about anything and I don't want to have to waste my time making a bunch of stupid signs and coming up with cheesy rhymes to support the "cause." I'm talking about a nice, torches and pitchforks angry mob. Everyone knows I'm a non-violent guy, so I'm not proposing we turn over cars or smash storefronts. That's rioter territory and I just don't see myself as a rioter.

No, I just think it would be a good feeling to be part of a mob where I could wave my torch (or pitchfork), shake my fist, and unleash guttural screams. It would be good therapy and I don't cut loose often enough. Being part of a mob would let me vent while providing me with the anonymity I crave. Also, I do not have any society memberships, sports teams, or clubs I belong to, so this would get me out of the house and allow me to network with others. And it's a lot cheaper than a club or sports team. And no membership dues.

I realize that a mob needs a target. We need to be going somewhere because if we just stood around in a field with our torches screaming at the moon, people might think we're a coven. So, I have a few target ideas for our angry mob:

1. Brett Farve : I do not have anything against him, but someone needs to keep him in his house and make this retirement stick. I'm tired of hearing about him. I think an angry mob could make him stay home. And if he comes out...cool, I get to meet Brett Farve.
   
2. Max & Ruby: I've mentioned before how much they piss me off, so this would make them a good target. We can surround the house and drag Max off to halfway house that can deal with someone with his "special" needs. Ruby gets the full mob treatment.
   
3. The Monster: A classic target and someone needs to do something about him. We'd have to stay clear of the fortress walls because of the boiling oil, but I don't think that the authorities would object to our presence.

Now, if this still doesn't interest anyone, I would consider a drunken mob. We'd have to ditch the torches, because I don't think alcohol and fire mix well. My fear is that as a drunken mob, we'd end up singing outside Carmen Harlan's house or something like that.

I just need to see if Lowe's carries pitchforks.

Who Will Save Me?

I just realized that I don't have a well-armed, redneck friend. Who will I turn to when the zombies attack? Who will take me in and protect me and my rag tag group of survivors? I don't know anyone with a fortified bunker in their back yard or basement. I don't know anyone who seems a little "off" and a bit intimidating, but once you get past the alcohol and the coarse language, you realize he really has a heart of gold.

Shit. I'm screwed.