It would be ironic if it weren't so sad...

...that just minutes after posting the last entry the news came over the wire that former President Bill Clinton is at this hour having quadruple bypass after suffering a heart attack.

Wherever you were with the guy, please say a prayer for him and his family this afternoon. Bypass surgery is nowhere as hazardous a thing to go through as it used to be but still... it's an awful serious thing to go through regardless. Here's to praying that the 42nd President of the United States has a swift and thorough recovery and that God's hand will rest upon him and his family today.

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If he's supposed to be "Daddy" can someone please make me an orphan?

For me, this is all the more funny because I've a VERY good memory and I remember the night of October 15th 1992 very well. That was the night of the second presidential debate between then-President George Bush, Arkansas governor Bill Clinton and billionaire character Ross Perot (who I gladly campaigned and voted for that year... the things you do when you're eighteen and drunk with newfound voting power). It was also the night that Dad and I got back from Asheboro with a cocker spaniel puppy for my sister's birthday, but anyhoo...

This particular debate, coming from Richmond, Virginia, was a rare informal "town hall" format moderated by Carole Simpson. For ninety minutes all three candidates were hit with questions from an audience of supposedly uncommitted voters. It was a pretty good show but by far the thing that made me groan the hardest was this one guy, this long-haired guy who I'm pretty sure said he worked with kids, and he implored the three candidates to "think of us as your children."

Of the three candidates that night, one of them would have certainly told him to grow up and start his own business like any self-respecting billionaire and another would have probably agreed with what the first candidate said. Only one of them not only readily agreed with the man but alluded that government should be almost an inescapable father figure looking over us.

Guess which one of the three won the election that year?

But that was something that came from a member of the debate audience: it was NOT something that the Clinton campaign initiated on its own. And it's not like the George W. Bush campaign would say something that heavily socialist on its own, right?

Right?!?

From the September 2nd 2004 Boston Globe...

Card says president sees America as a child needing a parent

By Sarah Schweitzer, Globe Staff | September 2, 2004

NEW YORK -- White House Chief of Staff Andrew Card said yesterday that President Bush views America as a ''10-year-old child" in need of the sort of protection provided by a parent.

Card's remark, criticized later by Democrat John F. Kerry's campaign as ''condescending," came in a speech to Republican delegates from Maine and Massachusetts that was threaded with references to Bush's role as protector of the country. Republicans have sounded that theme repeatedly at the GOP convention as they discuss the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks and the war in Iraq.

''It struck me as I was speaking to people in Bangor, Maine, that this president sees America as we think about a 10-year-old child," Card said. ''I know as a parent I would sacrifice all for my children."

The comment underscored an argument put forth some by political pundits, such as MSNBC talk-show host Chris Matthews, that the Republican Party has cast itself as the ''daddy party."

A Kerry spokesman, seizing on Card's characterization of Bush as a parental figure for the nation, contended that the president had failed.

**snip**

''The Democrats who met in Boston had a wonderful party, because Boston hosted a wonderful opportunity for them to get together," said Card, a former state representative from Holbrook. ''But they tended to talk about yesterday, and our president knows that leadership is all about tomorrow."

Card, the person who informed the president nearly three years ago about the attack on the second World Trade Center tower, also sought to cast Bush as a decisive leader who chose to remain seated in a Florida classroom after hearing the news in order to avoid creating fear.

''The president accepted my words but did not introduce fear to any of those young students or through the national media to the American people," Card said. ''After an appropriate period of time, he excused himself from the classroom . . . and exercised the ultimate responsibility of a president."

He added, ''But there is no doubt about the president's commitment to make sure that he protects us no matter what the polls may say, no matter what focus groups might suggest, no matter what the UN gave permission to."

**snip**

There ya have it from Bush's press secretary: the President of the United States sees us as children. And he's the father. Exactly as Bill Clinton saw himself twelve years ago.

I'm not a drinking man but if this is the way America is supposed to be, I'll gladly toast the occassion when I become an orphan.

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Want a Gmail address invite for free?

Just noticed that my Google e-mail address has been given 6 invitations. I don't know what to do with 'em and I'm in a good mood at the moment, so if anyone reading this wants a FREE Gmail invitation, shoot a mail to theknightshift@gmail.com and the first six ones that come in will get an invite sent to them.

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Doom 3 review: Once again, "the sanest place is behind a trigger"

It was a hot, sultry Tuesday evening in May of 1994 when Doom first entered my life. My good friend Johnny came by the house so we could drive together over to the nearby community college for an American history class we had one evening a week. Before we left he gave me a box that he picked up for about two bucks at the local K-Mart. “Here, try this. It’s pretty wild,” he told me.

I didn’t actually install the game ‘til about 2 the next afternoon and when I finally looked at my clock after that it was darn nearly 7:30 PM. Dad came by my room earlier, just after I’d first discovered the chainsaw: I pulled it out and ran toward a Former Human Sergeant: “watch that raw meat fly, Dad!!” He just shook his head and walked away with a wry grin, saying he’d never seen anything THAT gruesome before.

Good lord, how many nights did we lose to that game? I did four things that summer: bussed tables at a restaurant, traveled some, played TIE Fighter when it came out, and played Doom. Lots of Doom. The original shareware episode wasn’t enough: I wound up mail-ordering away for the complete game. Then I heard that people had started modifying the game, adding on levels and changing the monsters. And then it got worse…

This wasn’t long after I first discovered online bulletin board systems (we didn’t have full-blown Internet yet). There was a BBS in Kansas City that was dedicated to nothing but Doom files. I racked up a forty-dollar phone call to the thing one night, downloading nothing but Doom stuff. But at least I got to transform the Baron of Hell into Barney the Dinosaur to show for it.

Doom 2 followed in October of 1994: basically the same game but with more monsters and larger maps. The hardware demands also ratcheted up a bit: my snazzy lil’ 486 SX at 25 MHZ was doing so well… until the Icon of Sin in the final level. That damned grinning goat skull spat out so many monsters out of its exposed forehead that my computer slowed down to about 10 frames per minute. When I got a faster system a few years later I was finally able to take it down (and didn’t even have to do the “turn no-clipping on so you can walk behind the wall and shoot at John Romero’s head on a stick” trick either!).

I haven’t shown it to Johnny yet but if he thought that was rough he’ll probably scream and poke his eyeballs out when he takes a gander at Doom 3 the next time he comes over. Ten years, the Quake series and countless times of being asked “is it done?” later, id Software last month finally released the follow-up that may have had only slightly less anticipation than the Second Coming.

Other than the original I never played any of the Quake games, but everyone I’ve spoken with has said that Doom 3 is the strongest effort yet that id has poured into an actual plot for one of its games. It’s not a straightforward sequel but actually a retelling of the original Doom story, but apart from a few details the story’s basically the same: a hundred and fifty years from now you play a hardened space marine that’s been assigned to duty on Mars. Specifically, at a research facility run by Union Aerospace Corporation (think of the nefarious “Company” from the Alien movies and you’ll know already where this is going). Seems that the UAC has been doing some experiments in teleportation and matter transfer, and then decided to get really ambitious. So it is that just after you arrive and have finished up some introductory levels on moving around the game, that something starts pouring out of the gateway at the mysterious Delta Labs complex and everything, literally, goes straight to Hell. From that point on its you as the space marine on a quest not only for your own survival but also to turn off the portal to Hades lest it damn not just the bad dead folks, but the good live ones too.

I upgraded my system after this past Christmas so that it could effortlessly run Star Wars Galaxies. Even so, Doom 3 is so hoggish on resources that I’m forced to run the game on medium settings. However, after “tweaking” the configuration file in the Doom 3 directory (there’s a bunch of resources online on how to do this, on sites like Doom World and Planet Doom) I got it averaging about 45 frame per second on a 2 GHZ AMD system with a 128 MB Nvidia card. Only at 600x800 resolution mind ya, but even there… the graphics are stunning. And scary.

This is quite possibly the most realistic computer game yet published. Project lead John Carmack intended from the getgo that Doom 3 would have realistic lighting and he succeeded wildly: the Doom 3 graphical engine calculates light sources and surfaces (the bulk of the processing requirements). In layman’s terms it means that everything in the game casts a shadow or reflects light, exactly as it would in the real world. Go inside the restroom during the first minutes of the game and you’ll see yourself reflected back in the mirror (return there later and you’ll see… other things… reflected back also). Walk into a blackened room later on and you’ll genuinely hesitate, wondering just what the heck could be lurking in there that you can’t see yet, if at all. The effect is enhanced by having a flashlight to illuminate darkened corners with: try not to scream when you see something jumping out at you from the edge of the cone of light that it casts.

Fortunately, that’s not all you have as you navigate the dark recesses of UAC’s Mars City. Prior to your first mission (during which Hell erupts) you are issued a pistol. But soon you complement that with real firepower: the classic shotgun. Along with the rest of Doom’s signature armaments: the chaingun, the plasma rifle, the rocket launcher, and for the first time you can throw (or drop) grenades. There is also something called the “soul cube”, but any more on that would be major spoilerage. And of course, the BFG 9000… and the legendary chainsaw, which for the first time in a Doom series you finally come to understand why it is that chainsaws have been left laying around Mars to begin with.

That bit of info, along with many others, comes to you via one of the innovations that makes Doom 3 such a treat for the single player: you are armed with a personal data assistant (PDA) that you can call up anytime in-game, to read your incoming e-mail or watch videos that you download during the game. You can also read the PDAs of other, less fortunate characters that are found laying around the corpse-strewn facility. Make sure to read all the PDAs – and listen to the audio logs on them – as you move ahead, as they not only progress the story but give you much-needed information that you’ll need later on (like locker combinations and clues on defeating the baddies).

Most of the classic Doom enemies have returned for this retelling (but not all: sorry, no Spider Mastermind this time but that never seemed very demonic to me anyway). Most of the humans in the facility have been “zombified” by the outpouring demons so don’t feel too bad about capping them full of lead… they sure won’t hesitate to do the same (or worse) to you. This time though the former humans do not look identical to each other: you really do get the impression that these are hapless individuals that got turned undead (okay, apart from those really really fat zombies walking around that look pretty much the same: however good the UAC is at colonizing planets, they suck bigtime at combating morbid obesity). They come in a bunch more flavors this time than just “Former Humans”, “Former Human Sergeants” and “Chaingun Dudes”: there’s former human civilians, scientists, maintenance workers, security guards, marines, commandos… everyone but you and a few brave souls that escaped the holocaust that you meet along the way.

And then… the rest. Remember the Imps, those brown spiky guys that threw fireballs at you? They’re back, with more eyes and a LOT faster! They’ve also brought their cousins the Wraiths with them. The “Pinky” demons have been brought back for another round, albeit bigger and nastier than before. You’ll also have to once again contend with Revenants, Lost Souls, Cacodemons and Arch-Viles (but thankfully they don’t seem to have as much “resurrection power” as they did in Doom 2) along with an entire horde of new demons (like the spidery Trites, which look a LOT like the “Norris-things” from John Carpenter’s The Thing). Possibly the most beautiful/horrifying redefinitions have got to be for the Mancubus (the big waddling fat guys with plasma launchers for hands from Doom 2) and the new take on the Cyberdemon. But so far as new bad guys go, the Cherubs take the prize for most disturbing addition to the Doom canon: think tiny little babies. With claws. And insect wings. That scream “ma-ma”. Whoever thought up these things is one disturbed sicko. I pray he seeks counseling from a good therapist somewhere.

And if you do disturb easily, you might seriously wanna consider whether you really want to play Doom 3. The guys at id included a pamphlet in the box that suggests playing the game in a darkened room with the door locked and the sound turned up (I haven’t even begun to describe the haunting work that went into the sounds for this game) and that’s exactly how I played this for the week and a half that it took me to finish the game, playing mostly at night. There are things in this game that once you see, you can’t “unsee” if you know what I mean. After awhile it begins to SERIOUSLY play games with your head: strange lights in a dark corner that disappear when you get closer, things that move for no reason, things thrown at you but no assailant visible, and a disquieting woman’s voice enticing you to come “over here” before telling you that “they took my baby” (there’s more, but I don’t wanna think about it right now).

All of this makes for what is easily the most engaging, involving game experience that I’ve ever known for a single player. If there’s anything more that I wish it could have, it would be that most of the levels could have been larger, longer, and seeming not quite so “linear” in gameplay: one of the original Doom’s charms was just running around finding secrets or working your way through any sorts of puzzles that blocked your path. Those are still here also, but not nearly as hard to figure your way through (which, when you have demons on your tail makes the time that much more nerve-wracking… and fun). Most of the rooms seemed too “confined” also, and not as open as the original Doom games had them.

But the good news is that as with the originals, id Software has embraced the open-ended architecture that has made the Doom series so legendary (“Doom will never die, only the players,” as one of its programmers put it years ago) but to a far greater degree. Doom 3 comes complete with a built-in editor that’s accessible through its command console (hit CTRL plus ALT and ~ to bring it up) and already there are several user-written editors on the way. id is also set to soon release – for free – its Doom 3 developer’s toolkit, including the devised-but-not-used player-driven vehicle. And already there are numerous player-driven projects involving Doom 3 in the works, including at least two sequels (both called “Hell on Earth” by the way) and a reworking of the original Doom using the Doom 3 engine. Whatever faults the game may have, they will no doubt be soon eradicated by an army of dedicated Doomers.

Who knows: maybe someone among the new generation of Doom designers will create an updated version of Barney the Dinosaur for me to slaughter with my chainsaw again.

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Zell Miller's speech last night

I've spent roughly the same amount of time watching the Republican National Convention as I did watching the Democrat National Convention a few weeks earlier: meaning, none at all. Nor have I really kept up with any coverage about it, except that the Bush twins told some really bad jokes and Ah-nuldt stopped short of bringing Dana Carvey back for a "Saturday Nite Live" sketch.

But a little while ago I read Zell Miller's speech from last night and, though I've yet to be convinced that Bush should be trusted again with the Oval Office, it must be said that Miller is by far one of the most passionately effective speakers of our day. He should get bigtime props for last night's speech no matter where ya are on the political spectrum (even from those of us off of it).

Zell Miller is pure Georgia boy. I first heard about him when he spoke at the Democrat National Convention in 1992 but don't think I really understood his charm until I began driving over to Georgia on a regular basis to date the girl who later on became my wife. Every now and then Zell Miller would come into conversation between someone down there and myself and it made a real impression on me how beloved a figure he is. I've now come to understand why that is.

Agree with him on some things or not, Miller is still one of the scarce few statesmen in this country who sincerely means what he says and has enough confidence to let the chips fall where they may. Whatever he believes in, he's not a pretender about it. It's a shame that most other politicians/statesmen/whatever don't feel compelled to follow his example, or that of Ron Paul or Tom Tancredo or a few others that are in high office today.

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Playing around with photos...

A friend told me the other day that Blogger now has a photo hosting thingy that you can upload pics with through an instant messenger client. So I thought I might give it a shot and post something with a bit more lively color to this otherwise dreary dull blog...

It's me and "Weird Al" Yankovic from August 2003, after a concert that he gave at Carowinds.

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On leadership and humility and history

My first article for The Washington Dispatch was posted on that site a little while ago. Titled "George W. Bush and History", it examines the flawed perspective that the man is taking in regards to his place in history: not exactly a throwaway thing when we're dealing with the President of the United States, after all. Anyway, I've long believed that the greatest leaders were those with the most humbleness and didn't try to make more of their lives than what God has given them already. They're the ones who don't try to frame the world in reference to themselves, because they understand that they are just one small part of it, and not the whole.

Too bad that the modern American celebritocracy tolerates nobody but those who really do believe that the world revolves around themselves.

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Hanging it up, clearing the boards, looking to the horizon...

My last blog was dated June 2, 2004. In the almost three months that have transpired since then, I have...

- Attended a concert where Howard Shore conducted most of the score from "The Lord Of The Rings" movie trilogy.

- Stood on the corner of Constitution and 15th in Washington D.C. to watch President Reagan's procession to the Capitol, and then waited in line for seven hours throughout the following night to visit the Rotunda, witnessing one of the last changes of the guard that took place during the public viewing there.

- Earned two technical certifications in website design and management.

- Given myself a thorough self-education in how to use Adobe Premiere Pro and After Effects.

- Started teaching myself Macromedia Flash.

- Spent three days shooting footage for my upcoming short film "Forcery" and several more preparing it for the final product.

- Began learning how to play the guitar.

- Began what I hope will become a successful small business.

- Played and beaten Doom 3 on the "Marine" setting.

- Started getting more serious about my personal times of devotion in prayer and Bible study.

- Finally earned the rank of Master Artisan with my character on Star Wars Galaxies.

- Leg-pressed 500 pounds.

- Started writing another screenplay, and finally was able to begin work on an original idea for a novel.

- Attended a Catholic church service for the first time in my life.

- Laughed a lot. Cried a lot. Thought a lot.

This summer is going to end with me having, I like to think anyway, quite a bit more enlightenment on the way things are than I did when it began. To put it tersely: I've a lot of things to do in this life, and not a lot of time to waste.

On January 22, 1999 I first began posting online, first at FreeRepublic.com and then two years ago at LiberyPost.org, as "Darth Sidious". I took the screenname from the villain of the first Star Wars prequel, still four months away at the time. Not because I'm a BAD guy per se, but because I liked the character and because I've been a Star Wars nut for almost my entire life.

Back then I really believed that online political discussion forums were going to be the seed from which a new renaissance of American liberty and responsibility would blossom from. I now feel utterly foolish and ashamed that it took the present set of circumstances, as despicable and nasty as they have become, to finally convince me beyond any reasonable doubt that... I was very, very wrong about that.

The modern American political mindset demands that we buy into the paradigm that there are two and only two valid camps: the Democrats and the Republicans. One has to choose between one or the other to be considered a full citizen, according to conventional wisdom. That's how I used to see it too, before I first began getting shaken from that mental stranglehold four years ago.

Modern American politics is two cages full of rabid insane monkeys throwing excrement at each other and either one claiming superiority for it. I'm a thirty-year old guy, and I do not want to waste my life or what reputation I have by watching monkeys throw excrement at each other... much less associating with them.

Bush has done some very evil things with the responsibilities he was trusted with. I've no doubt that Kerry is going to do some evil things also if/when he is elected President. Maybe I'm being too old-fashioned and disaffected by things, but the lesser of two evils... is still evil. Electing a man to office knowing fully well that he's going to lack principles, humility and character and yet believing that he's going to do some good... is insanity. And no matter how loud the monkeys scream that they're holding diamonds... that's still shit in their filthy paws.

So tonight, because it's time to move on to bigger and better things, and because I've come to realize how futile and meaningless an exercise it is to spend my time and energy arguing ideas to the best of my understanding to people who seldom desire either ideas or understanding, I'm retiring from posting as "Darth Sidious" to political discussion sites. It was a fun ride, for the most part. I met a lot of good people and made a LOT of new - and now lifelong - friends. It did lead to some very neat things in my life. But whatever vitality they once had is gone now, and I'm going to seek out greener pastures elsewhere. The passion and energies I used to pour into that can be MUCH better spent in writing to this blog, or anything else creative that I bend my mind toward. In the end, I'll be a much better person for it, without all the grief of suffering the inane babblings that passes for "intelligent discourse" from the idiots among the BushBots or the KerryKadre.

Darth Sidious: January 22 1999 ~ August 28, 2004
It was fun. Now, let's see what else is out there...

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Staying busy is a good thing... right?

Whew... why is it every time I get started on "blogging" again that this pesky thing called life rears its ugly head and throws a kink in my plans? Ahhh well... at least it's not the usual BAD stuff, right?

So I've been studying up bigtime to take the exam for Microsoft CIW certification (45 needed out of 60), take that tomorrow. Hope it goes better than a month ago when Dad and I drove out to Nashville so I could try out for Jeopardy! Am pretty sure I missed passing that exam by two questions and I'll be the first to admit that I know nothing about obscure 17th century Italian opera!

We also finally finally FINALLY started principle photography on my film "Forcery". The idea came in early September 2001 (a little over a week before 9/11) after a crazy incident at Dragon*Con in Atlanta that a parody of Stephen King's "Misery" except with George Lucas would be hilarious! So, seven script drafts, six casting changes, approximately 20 props found on eBay, a "production re-alignmment" and untold headaches later, we're making it at last. Go to the official site above for some still photos of the day we shot the Skywalker Ranch scenes.

Speaking of Star Wars, I'd wanted it for Christmas but Santa must have forgot, but a week or so ago I finally got Star Wars: Knights Of The Old Republic for computer. It's not only the most beautiful Star Wars game I've ever seen, it's by far one of the most immersive role-playing games for computer that I've seen also. When it comes to my idle hours it's become the one thing that's detracted from my interest in Star Wars Galaxies.

My blog entry "People Who Should Be Shot When The Revolution Comes" from April got around. Quite a bit, actually. Don't worry I haven't been visited by police or Secret Service (yet anyway) but it does seem to have struck a chord with a bunch of people. I might write a sequel later, 'cuz some other people worthy of wrath at the appointed time have come to mind (but bear in mind it was a parody to begin with, and will be a parody again).

Okay, that's enough for this time. Me go eat now.

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Tears for Maggi

This was a very good day.... until I received some news that hit me in the chest like a sledgehammer. Can't really reiterate afresh what I wrote earlier tonight to Liberty Post so with that as the context, here's to you Maggi...

LP forumer 6bg posted this afternoon that Maggi had died and... just couldn't believe it. After getting confirmation I lay on my bed and buried my face into the pillow, crying my eyes out for at least half an hour this afternoon.

She died toward the end of February but today was the first I'd seen it announced anywhere. Longtime Freepers (and those of us still Freepers at heart from the old days) will remember Maggi, better known by her screenname MouthOfSouth. I imagine any one of us would have something about the impression she left on a lot of people during her life both online and off.

She was a fierce advocate of property rights, especially of farmers and ranchers: not long before we'd first met she had just come from the Darby pro-farmers rally in Ohio. This was also the lady who, armed with a camera and telephoto lens, on most weekends did surveillance on the federal agents in Andrews NC who were searching for Eric Rudolph: she may not have approved of what Rudolph did, but she couldn't trust some of the antics of the feds out there either.

Maggi was not a partisan. She simply believed in what the Constitution stood for. Democrat and Republican alike were subject to her wrath if they deviated from its precepts. That was made obvious by her online presence: Maggi's acerbic wit and wisdom was certainly unique in a forum that, at the time anyway, prided itself on having unique individuals. Her knowledge of pop culture was profound, but that merely sheathed a style of prose that cut through all hypocrisy and nonsense. Nothing fazed this lady.

Some of us remember the sound of her voice, from when FR had FireTalk going on. If you heard her voice, whatever you imagined her to be like in real life, that was her. I'll never forget the first time we met and immediately being infected by her charisma. She was one of the darned few ladies you'll ever meet who'd mastered the fine art of curmudgeonry: I imagine that right now in Heaven she's giving Ambrose Bierce a thing or two about real human nature.

But I'll always remember Maggi as the person who, for whatever reason, saw some potential in a kid who was going through some messed-up times and enticed him to come to Asheville, where he could write and learn a few things about what life is really all about. I rented a small apartment from Maggi and her sister during the year and a half that I was there. My perspective on that wild little town and its people could not have been so greatly appreciated, were it not for the insight of those two sisters. What makes it particularly sad is that, in her own way, Maggi played a critical role in the life plan that God set for me: living in Asheville put me close to the girl I'd started talking to from a Christian website. It wasn't long after moving there that Lisa and I met. A little over a year later in that apartment I asked her to be my wife. Maggi and her sister were in on the whole plot and even helped me out a bit. I'm very thankful that such a moment of my life got to include them... that's something Lisa and I will take with us for the rest of our lives.

I spoke with Maggi's sister on the phone this afternoon. There will be a service next month when Maggi's ashes will be interred in the family plot. Her sister said that it was cancer, but that the last two years of Maggi's life were some of the happiest she ever had. I know some of what happened in that time and, trust me she was really blessed with the time God had left for her. And, it should be said that she went down in true Maggi style: fighting to the last.

Anyway, thought it should be made known to her friends both here and on FR that a great person from our own, and a dear friend, has passed away. I'm not much for words regarding something like this, but I hope that mine in this circumstance did some honor to all the good that Maggi did for me and a lot of other people. She will definitely be missed.

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A Republican no more

At the senior picnic a week before we graduated high school in 1992 a history teacher remarked to our principal that "Chris is a real conservative whether he realizes that or not." It came during a lil' discussion we'd been having about what might happen with that year's presidential election since Ross Perot was developing into a strong challenger to the two major parties.

"Conservative?" I wondered: "I don't even know what that really means... am I one?"

I registered to vote the day after my eighteenth birthday, and have gone to the polls in every major elections since. That I've made that effort to be far from an apathetic citizen is something I'm very proud of: the freedoms we enjoy in this country were bought at too high a price, and we take them for granted at our peril. That doesn't mean we MUST vote in every single race on the ballot, because the sad fact of the matter is that none of the candidates in many races don't deserve our vote. But I'm a firm believer that it's incumbent to the responsibility that God gave us as stewards of our liberties that we do vigorously exercise our franchise, and choose either for a candidate or against all of them on the ballot.

That last part has taken me the better part of the time since first registering to really understand. When I first started voting as a younger buck I registered as a Democrat only because my entire family had been Democrats, as if that really mattered and despite the fact that we've generally been more conservative than Jesse Helms on a lot of things. Almost soon after registering I began seeing how corrupt the Democrat party really was and began feeling guilty for being associated with them. So in what I like to think was an act of youthful rebellion against "the way things are" I joined Ross Perot's campaign in 1992 and gave it my best effort to see Perot win that year. I even had a "Ross for Boss in '92" button made that I proudly wore around our college campus. He lost, of course, and the Democrats took the White House, but a seed had been planted in my independent streak.

It began blooming during the next two years as I watched the Clintons made a mockery out of everything the office of President of the United States is supposed to stand for. They were the ones who first made me consider what liberalism really means, and how its root "liberty" is the furthest extreme possible from that mindset. Even as an 18-year old I didn't like the idea of OUR money that we entrust (though almost at the point of a gun) with the government being spent on things like obscene art and pork-barrel giveaways and something as laughable as the United Nations. I came to realize what the Clintons, and what Jesse Jackson and Ted Kennedy and Carol-Moseley Braun really wanted: as much power over every American as they could get away with. Conversely, simultaneous with my realization was my conversion into a "Ditto-head" ensuing my discovery of Rush Limbaugh's television show and then his radio broadcast. A year after Mrs. McCollum had called me a "conservative", I had comfortably and enthusiastically made that the overall definition of my ideas and philosophies and that to be a conservative was to embrace the freedom to be as much as God and our own talents would allow us to be.

But I was still registered as a Democrat. And still watching in disgust as President Clinton played his games with the budget while turning the United States military into a glorified "Meals on Wheels" program. And conniving to keep as many people fooled about his personal character as possible. It was my sister who made me do the obvious thing: the afternoon after she'd had her own conversion she dragged me to the Board of Elections where I declared never again would I be affiliated with the Democrats as long as they were this corrupt, and swore my life, my fortune and my sacred honor to the service of the Republican party. That was October 1994.

In the ten years since I've stood by the Republican party, rejoicing at what we thought was conservative victory that year and hoping that Clinton's style of "leadership" would be given the boot in 1996: my roomie and I even hung a giant "Dole for President" sign in our window overlooking the street weeks before the election. I was so sure that the Republicans would be vindicated for their adherence to conservatism, that if they held to their principles then this country really would turn around for the better.

I was wrong. And I'm tired of holding onto, in the least bit, the illusion that the Republicans demand that I buy into.

The Republican party is so infested with liberal motivations that it's ceased to be a vehicle for conservative ideas and methods. For sake of "winning elections" I've watched the GOP prostitute itself so many times to appease the lowest common denominator, that it doesn't stand for anything of principle anymore. If I were to keep believing that choosing to be a Republican makes a better difference than being a Democrat, I would be allowing myself to be enslaved to a lie. And I'm too damned free to be a slave to anyone or anything.

George W. Bush is a far worse President than Bill Clinton ever was. And a bigger liberal than Clinton was either. The only thing I can see of virtue in his administration is that at least Bush shies away from young interns and maybe keeps the Oval Office sink cleaner than did his predecessor. Government spending on Bush's watch has skyrocketed to levels that the Clinton term never approached. Expenditure will soon outstrip government's means of financing it barring - guess what? - a tax increase. Bush does not believe in maintaining and protecting our nation's sovereignty: it cannot possibly be claimed that one does that while also encouraging our nation's borders to be as leaky as a rusty sieve. He's abusing the use of our military forces in ways that make Clinton's antics in Haiti and Somalia look almost honorable. And yet, to be considered a "good conservative" Republicans are expected to turn a blind eye to these and other things that fully contradict what principled conservatism stands for.

The PATRIOT Act is the worst possible piece of legislation that ever came out of Washington D.C. The Republicans who voted for it - ALL of them who did because no one admitted to having actually read the abominable thing - have demonstrated that in their zeal to follow their Republican President, they have no compunctions against violating the Bill of Rights and the rest of the Constitution.

The common man has as much hope of serving his countrymen in elected office via the Republican party as he does through the Democrats... in other words, none at all. Ideas and principles don't qualify you to be a Republican candidate anymore: they're now considered a liability to the cause. Republicans want their candidates to be either rich, or famous, or ideally both. A GOP candidate must be "approved" by the party's leadership as being faithful enough to their aims, which aren't necessarily what is in the best interest of the people you want to serve: they run counter to it more often than not. Both major parties have succeeded in bringing back the "smoke-filled room" but the Republicans are much worse than their Democrat antagonists: if you dare suggest opposition to the party's anointed, you'll be deemed a ratfink and you may as well kiss your desire to serve - however sincere they are - goodbye forever.

That's what I've wanted to do ever since I was a teenager: offer myself as a candidate for elected office. Maybe even the U.S. House of Representatives someday. Get elected and serve one term, maybe two, then come home and let someone else take a crack at it. Life's too short to make a career out of something like that while denying yourself all the other experiences that come with this world. That, and staying entrenched in office for longer than a few terms tends to dull your senses as to how to respect others as their servant: you soon begin to represent yourself, not them. Neither one of the two major parties want that in someone they sponsor. They want individuals who will surrender their individuality as part of a long-term investment for the party's power: an incumbent Republican is a lot harder to lose from an election than a first-time candidate is, after all.

My conscience has felt dirty, for these reasons and many more, during the past few years since I began seeing for the first time that to be a loyal Republican is to possess as corrupted a soul as any loyal Democrat has. It would be an exercise in futility to try to run on the Republican slate as a principled conservative... so what reason do I have in staying with the Republicans, at all? I realize now that the GOP abandoned conservatism a long time ago, and there's no reason for me to stick around any longer either. But I never left the Republican party... it left me.

This morning I went to renew my drivers license, which also allowed me to change my voter registration. When the nice lady asked for my affiliation I blurted out, without a second thought, "independent". I told her that I was once a Democrat before switching to Republican, and I was now sick to death of both of them. "A lot of people are," she told me.

So here I am, enjoying the first few hours of my political freedom, for the first time in my life. I owe no party any loyalty, and none can now claim me as a thrall of their own. All it took was a little thought and a negligible amount of breath to simply say "no" to them.

But then, that's all it takes for anyone to be free from anything.

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The unwatchable "Watchmen"

It was announced Thursday on Ain't It Cool News that the long long LONG delayed (going back at least to 1988) film production of Alan Moore's "Watchmen" has found a director: Darren Aronfosky. You might remember Aronofsky as the writer/director of 1997's offbeat black-and-white mathematical thriller "Pi". He's done a few things since then but "Pi" beyond all doubt proved his mettle. The one thing he screwed up badly on was the work he did on the "Batman: Year One" script (Alfred the butler as a black man who says "Slammin'!" a lot: what the ...?!)

That said, Darren Aronofsky is a very gifted director. He could probably handle any production task given him with the direst sense of responsibility. He's a true cinematic artist. He's going to destroy his career when he fails miserably by attempting to bring "Watchmen" to the big screen.

This is what Terry Gilliam has said might be the one story that is absolutely unfilmmable. The only way I can think of it getting made and being anywhere faithful to the book is to make it a 24-hour long, 12-part miniseries: one part per chapter from the book for 12 consecutive nights. With a billion-dollar budget and the Wachowski Brothers at the helm. It would have to go on HBO... in fact HBO would be the perfect medium for it. Even considering working with anything less than that would be utter folly.

It's impossible to describe to the uninitiated what "Watchmen" is without having read the book. Which is why the Wachowskis would be perfect to make it if they had the time and resources: this was the matrix thirteen years before there was "The Matrix". It's a murder mystery. It's a superhero story. It's a contemplation on the nature of God and man. It's the perfect tale of middle-age triumphs and regrets. It's a warning against conservative extremism. It's a warning against liberal extremism.

Did I mention that this was the comic book that forever redefined the artform?

"Watchmen" begins in 1985, in a world much likes ours... except that Nixon is still president, the United States won the Vietnam War and the Soviet Union never invaded Afghanistan (not yet anyway). The Cold War for all intents and purposes ended a quarter-century earlier... all because of one man. Any more than that would be too much spoilage. This was a world where some individuals really did choose to become costumed crimefighters... and now someone is killing off the "masks". That is all you need to know going in, before this becomes among the most complex and absorbing plots in modern English literature.

That's where it should stay: as literature. In a book, where it can be most appreciated and considered from. A movie won't have the depth of the graphic novel. It can't present the rich text of the excerpts from Mason's book or the professor's analysis of what Doctor Manhattan's existence now means to the world. It couldn't let us watch the growing friendship between the newsstand vendor and the young comic reader (and on that note just the pirate story would take the budget of an entire motion picture to depict). Of maybe 3-hours running time Kovac's past would require at least 45 minutes to show and the part where he "stops pretending" - you know what I mean if you've read the book - would be the most graphic sequence ever put on film.

Don't get me wrong: I'd LOVE to see some of the things in the book - like the prison break - brought to life onscreen... and whoever plays the Comedian is going to wind up winning an Oscar for Best Actor if there's any justice in this world. But if it doesn't happen, it will be no great loss. Besides, what Rorschach's voice sounds like should remain in your own head, instead of forever hearing Steve Buscemi (now rumored to be cast as the psychotic crimefighter) behind the swirling mask.

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People who should be shot when the revolution comes

“Why are you doing this to yourselves?” a history instructor at Elon University asked us about six years ago. “You’re going to find yourselves laying awake one of these days at three in the morning, the only sounds you hear being the breathing of your spouse and the beating of your own heart as you are trapped thinking about the horrible things that humanity is capable of doing. You guys are asking for madness, I hope you realize!”

Ever since then I’ve considered why I majored in history because his warning has proved all too prophetic. There are times that do I find myself in bed, unable to sleep, burdened with the weary knowledge of the shape of things as my beautiful wife slumbers beside me. I have to wonder if all our hopes and dreams are really all for naught - so much so that I struggle with thoughts of having children of my own. “How could we ask our sons and daughters for forgiveness when they someday realize what kind of a world - and what kind of nation – we have brought them into?” I ask myself. I worry, thinking about the life of my children and societal ills the future will inevitably bring us. Yet adding to the futility of it all, our nation is distracted and ignores our deep political and moral problems. If Americans are in anyway active in politics then that, also, is utterly spent of usefulness.

The fever of the moment is to be enraptured in this year’s Presidential election. But it… doesn’t matter. Not at all. It’s but a momentary dose of morphine to distract us from the cancer eating this country. Either candidate from the major parties has demonstrated that they have no regard for the Constitution and the contract it represents between our people and our government. Both of them – and their respective parties – now espouse a socialism that would have horrified Ronald Reagan and maybe even FDR. Their disregard for the things that once gave this nation her noble character reflects the general shallowness of our culture that has led me, sadly, to no longer consider myself to be a proud American.

That great country no longer really exists. The nation I grew up believing in was one where any individual was as free to pursue his dreams as far as his heart and God would take him. It was a land that held to equal justice no matter one’s origin or belief or philosophy. It believed in the encouragement of charity, not the demanding of tribute. It was a place where we really didn’t conceive that it would ever become a police state where every citizen was considered a virtual suspect. In the space of twenty years I’ve watched America go from a bright shining city on a hill, to a cellblock of an island prison “ruled” by petty crooks and thugs.

It’s not a matter of “if”, but “when” this house of cards will collapse. And when it does, one of two things is going to happen: either the American people will capitulate and declare themselves eternally the wards of Nanny Government, or they’ll take to the streets and demand blood. It would be tempting to pray that we would not see either of such days in our time under the sun… but that is not for us to decide. Nor does it look as if that’s guaranteed at all. Sooner or later, something’s gotta give and a whole lot of people are going to be hurt or worse for it.

I’m a follower of Jesus Christ. As such I walk a fine line between being being angry enough to relish harm befalling those that wrong us, while likewise wanting to forgive them: my spirit contends with my flesh more time than I care to admit. But scratch away everything else that there is about being Christopher Knight, and you’re going to find a guy who simply doesn’t want to see anyone die. And I like to believe that this article is my own way of at least trying to stop that from happening

The purpose of this essay is threefold, but definitely NOT to call upon or encourage a violent uprising! Note that I say “when” the revolt happens, not “before”. Any correspondence along the lines of “right on brother bring it on!” will not be acknowledged, and in fact I would not hesitate to report particularly disturbing allusions to the proper authorities.

First, when things fall apart and the center no longer holds, I want to do my best to limit the collateral damage. To that end I offer this list as a guide on who to target, as opposed to possibly hurting innocent civilians who never wanted a dog in this hunt to begin with. Second, the people described below deserve fair warning about what they have done, though in their own ways they have sought control over their fellow man when they deserved none. It is incumbent upon me in my duties as a Christian to tell these people that “look I love you but I don’t want you to get hurt like this,” and it should be our hope that they may yet repent and beg forgiveness for their wrongdoing.

Third, I write this because I want the people on this list to fear. To be afraid for their careers – and maybe even their children’s futures – if not for their lives. Why shouldn’t they be made to fear: they’ve led us to fear them for long enough already. It’s because we have feared them that they have been allowed to run roughshod over the rest of us for too great a duration. They don’t fear because they believe there is no ramification to the evil of their actions on this earth. God may have patience enough to give them time to make amends for their spiritual state, but the nature of man – particularly the man who realizes his oppression – is far less forgiving.


People Who Should Be Shot When The Revolution Comes

- Transportation Security screeners/fondlers

TSA are those peon-prodding Philistines who have the power to forever deny you – without appeal or rationale – the right to air travel if you so much as give them a cocked eyebrow when they ask if they can examine your sandals for shoe bombs. Or make you drink the bottle of your own breast-milk that you stockpiled for your infant. They have a particular affinity toward harassing small children, the disabled and attractive young women. I’ll never fly again if I can help it while they’re around but if I do and my lovely wife happens to be touched by a TSA bootlick in the least bit a suspicious manner, I swear to God that I’ll do my damndest to beat the living snot out of him. It might land me in jail but I don’t care: I’m a jealous husband and there are some things in this world that belong to no other man. No president, Congress or government agency can ever change that fact.

- “Zero tolerance”-happy public school principals

If TSA is the new breed of Brownshirts, then these guys running the indoctrination camps called “public schools” are the Schutzstaffel. Too many have become control freaks hell-bent on breaking any independence of tomorrow’s Americans. Woe be that student who dares bring in a 2-inch long action figure rifle or accidentally leaves a butter knife in the floorboard of his car: such totems of resistance result in instant expulsion. Not every principal is like this, but those that would banish a female student for possessing two Tylenol tablets in her pocket because it’s “that time” of the month have no sane excuse whatsoever to be put in charge of our children… or having any children of their own for that matter.

- Homeowners association busybodies

One in California is now threatening home-schooling families for “non-residential use” of their domiciles. Others throw a hissy-fit if a homeowner chooses to paint his house a loud shade of puce. Simply put: it’s none of their bloody business what a person does with his own home so long as its not infringing on the right of others to do the same with theirs.

- Highway patrol officers who give tickets for unbuckled seatbelts

An American military aircraft is considered territory of the United States no matter where it is. The same should hold true for private transportation: the interior of my car is a sovereign realm in which I can do whatever I want, so long as I’m not using it to deprive others of their own safety in which case does put me under the jurisdiction of the fuzz. But if my back itches while I’m driving and the only route to relief is unfastening my seatbelt and that momentary indiscretion causes me to suffer a fine, it indicates the issuing officer has no idea what it means to honor the Constitution he swore to uphold and protect. It tells me that this man chooses to serve the state rather than the people. It makes him worthy of more than simple derision: he should be stripped of his badge and hogtied naked to the hood of a roadkill truck for not less than two days.

- Law enforcement agents that shoot Eagle Scouts and helpless dogs

Let’s stop calling cops and deputies “law enforcement” officers and demand they return to what they originally were intended to be: “peace officers”. Once, police rarely showed wantonness in using armed force except as dire last resort: knowing they were accountable to the people gave them too much self-discipline for that. That time is fading now. The moment police give a higher priority toward enforcing the law than serving their neighbors, they become totally unanswerable for their actions. The result is a license to be incompetent at best and ghoulish at worst. With regrets to the naïve, an agent of the law who on vague suspicion fires point-blank into the face an unarmed kid sitting in his car, or shoots a family’s tiny pet to death during a traffic stop that was wrong to begin with and then smirks about it with his colleagues, should be branded as anathema to society and treated accordingly.

- Immovable judges that legislate from the bench

The number-one reason why we now have a Constitution in name only. “Judicial restraint” didn’t come in vogue when Robert Bork got thrashed as a Supreme Court nominee: for most of America’s history it was the predominant principle of higher court rulings. Justices traditionally made rulings according to ideals higher than man, rather than compromise to suit their own fallible sense of right and wrong. Were they perfect? Admittedly not, but they at least desired to seek that perfection. Without that belief in something above the ken of this flesh, judges inevitably find themselves governing from non-elected positions according to the flesh.

- Anyone in government who creates a regulation and insists that it’s a law

There is no law stating that people who look too young have to show ID to purchase cigarettes, and it’s a lie to demand that it is. Laws are drafted by those elected to represent us and can be made to answer to us. Being ID-ed for cigarettes is a regulation: made by people you will never see and probably will never even know the names of. In many ways they hold more power than any legislator and there’s almost nothing we can do about it, barring a major paradigm shift in this country. If it were just cigarettes it might be kind of funny… except that we’re a people stifled by ridiculous regulations imposed by everyone from FDA to HOSA. Maybe it’s just me, but it seems awful silly to specify the number of steps that a ladder must have in a certain type of workplace.

- Elected officials who violate the Ninth and Tenth Amendments after being direly forewarned

The Ninth and Tenth may be the most important portions of the Bill of Rights after the First Amendment. They are also the most ignored by the widest of margins. These are the blueprint for a limited government that does not encroach upon the liberties – enumerated or not – of the American people. Had our representatives in Congress and our Presidents been more mindful of these two amendments, we might yet have been a people that would enjoy the same degree of freedoms as our forefathers did a hundred years and more ago. Were we to enforce the effects of these amendments, our elected officials would be obligated to explain why the legislations they seek to enact are Constitutional, and whether or not they would respect the autonomy of the individual.

- Anyone who tries to enforce property taxation

Let’s just call it communism and get it over with. It’s even worse than that: you don’t really own your land if you’re compelled to pay a “user fee” for it. In mobster movies it’s called “protection money”. In government it’s called “business as usual”: don’t pay the fee, you lose all claims to “your” land. Homes that have belonged to families for generations have been taken away – and more often than not sold at a profit to major developers – because the “tax burden” could not be met. It must be asked aloud: whose land is it, the individual’s or the government’s? If government claims it, then by what moral argument does it feel it has the right to do so?

- Government officials that couldn’t care less about our nation’s borders being overrun

Anyone who turns a blind eye to the crumbling integrity of our borders after being entrusted with defending our nation’s sovereignty is a traitor, pure and simple. It should be particularly unforgivable when a pitiful excuse is made about offering amnesty to those who should not be here simply because they are here. One of the signs of the Roman Empire’s decline was that it could no longer hold its own frontiers against barbarians jealous for its wealth, to the point that there was no definable Roman Empire in the west. When a nation no longer cares for its boundaries, it can’t be said that a nation really exists at all. Why should it even care though, when those who would destroy that nation are allowed to slip inside it?

- Whoever’s responsible for giving Matthew Lesko the keys to the national treasury

You know: that third-rate Riddler impersonator who becomes a demon in your nightmares after a binge of late-night television. The guy with the big fat book on how to leech taxpayer dollars. I wouldn’t possibly consider hurting Lesko himself: he comes across as a loon but at least he’s honest about it. And Lesko is just a symptom of the problem: if something happened to him, someone else would just take his place and they might be even more irritating. We have too many ways for too many people to suck at the tit of too much big government, and it’s become too big a drain of our nation’s resources and vitality. Wean everybody off that tit that don’t belong on it and a lot more people will have the incentive to grow up… and have more money in their pocket to boot!

- NASA officials who believe they should corner the market on space travel

If someone is crazy enough to try to launch into space inside a converted cement-mixer drum from his own backyard, more power to them and screw asking the federal government permission for it. The time is more than ripe that private businesses and individuals be free to explore space on their own: it is demanded if this country is to hold the upper ground on industry and defense.

- Politicians who thought “Beavis and Butthead” should have been banned but say nothing about NBC on Thursday nights

Remember when Senator Fritz Hollings called the show “Beavis and Buffcoat”? Or when members of a congressional hearing denounced id Software’s videogame DOOM? Or when President Clinton alluded that conservative talk radio caused the Oklahoma City bombing? They were all riding the coattails of a fad and thought they were “on the cutting edge” of societal change for it. In truth they wanted to distract the population from their own foibles by hooking onto whatever was fashionable to attack at the time. All stripes of politician like to hoodwink the average American with that lil’ technique. It makes them look juvenile and it insults our intelligence too much to be tolerated.

- Elected officials who distance themselves from those they asked to serve

And George W. Bush is among the worst of them. Corralling away protestors – some of which have legitimate gripes – into a “free speech zone” just so you don’t get to see them is something that would be expected of Russian tsars, but not American presidents. What Bush and others like him are doing is more grievous than the apathy toward the peasant class given by Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette: those two could at least lose their heads knowing that they were born into their situation. The same can’t be said of American politicians who show the same apathy – if not outright arrogance – toward the electorate. They asked to serve, and they should have expected to fulfill their terms of office, taking lumps and all. If they can’t answer to the people, then they should end all charade of serving the people. To do otherwise implies that they earnestly believe that they are above the people.

- Election officers that swear by electronic “no paper” voting machines

If not in the very immediate future, this will be what lights the fuse beneath a frustrated citizenry. Computerized voting that produces no auditable record opens up Pandora’s box on voting fraud. To deny otherwise puts one rather squarely on the side of Josef Stalin, who purportedly commented that “people who cast the votes decide nothing; the people who count the votes decide everything." Every vote must be allowed to hold up under scrutiny in the light of day instead of trusting it to the digital innards of a Diebold machine.

- Any impenitent that ever agreed to install red-light or speed cameras

The cameras should be smashed apart with a ball-peen hammer. Those who even considered them need to be dragged kicking and screaming into a remedial class on the Bill of Rights, particularly about the Fourth Amendment guarantees that our personal effects will be “secure… against unreasonable searches and seizures.” While they’re at it they can brush-up on the Sixth Amendment that promises the accused has the right “to be confronted with the witnesses against him”. When was the last time a robot gave sworn testimony in court? Yet the robot is usually the ONLY witness presented against a defendant in red-light camera cases. Traditionally it would be considered a conflict of interest that appeals in such cases are usually heard by the firms contracted to provide the cameras. In modern America it’s par for the course.

- Anyone who thinks the United Nations is still a good idea

It does nothing useful except pull our nation into meaningless quagmires. There’s no redeemable value and America doesn’t owe it a cent much less billions to renovate its headquarters. The headquarters should be given one hour to evacuate before immediate implosion, with the wreckage bulldozed into the Hudson River and the ground sown with salt just to be safe. Anyone who tries to persuade us that it still has merit worth considering should be exiled.

- School board members that make your kids endure a 3-hour one-way bus ride

Destroying the neighborhood school destroys the neighborhood. And I cannot help but believe that there has been some motive behind this madness that has evolved over the past four decades. Students no longer care about their sense of local identity leaving parents with no incentive to become involved with schools as a result. All that’s left is a soulless shell of a building that the bureaucrats guard as if they were Crips in a turf war. Point being: parents need to take back the neighborhood school for their children. Peacefully if possible, forcefully if necessary.

- Unelected “committee” members that have the power to destroy your home

Many cities have zoning committees appointed by elected officials but otherwise free to act without regard to the electorate. In recent years there have been hundreds of cases in which these committees have condemned private property – without recompense to the owner – to use for government intent. Worse, some have been seized from homeowners and small businesses only to be sold to large developers and major retailers like Wal-Mart.

- Supporters of forfeiture laws

In the name of fighting the “war on drugs” and now terrorism, local and federal law agencies have run roughshod over the guarantee against seizure without due process. Billions of dollars in money and assets have been stolen from innocent people who were arrested under the most dubious of circumstances. They were cleared but their belongings went to the government with no recourse left to them. There are virtually no defenders of the people’s rights in this matter and government agents have been known to gloat over the fact that there is nothing to be done to stop them. At the cost of sounding callous, I would find it very hard to shed a tear if such violators of property rights were found bleeding to death in the streets.

- Fanatical followers of the Democrat party who turn a blind eye to what “their guys” do and demand that we accept only two parties in this country

The co-conspirators most responsible for the turmoil and suffering that this country has been made to endure for the past one hundred years. They should be, from sea to shining sea, strung up from the nearest telephone poles by their circular reproductive units… with piano wire.

- Fanatical followers of the Republican party who turn a blind eye to what “their guys” do and demand that we accept only two parties in this country

Ditto.

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The best sentence to describe November's presidential election

The tagline of the upcoming Alien vs. Predator movie says it all...

"Whoever wins... we lose."

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Time in the wilderness...

Today marks the first time in almost two months that I've updated the blog. The time was needed for some real-life issues. I like to think that it's part of the beginning of a new era, when I'll be able to focus more energies into creative endeavours. Have had to scale back on some projects but hey, you gotta take baby steps before making the big strides.

Since January I've been looking for work. But finally it dawned on me that I needed not so much work as I do a career. For guys like me that's the hardest thing to settle on in the world: ever since I was a small child I've dabbled in so many fields, from writing to teaching to science to history to computers to cooking to... well you get the point. I'm now working toward being MS CIW-certified which would put me in a great position to find work as a web developer somewhere. I've already got the experience, now I just need the education to put on paper.

I turned 30 a few weeks ago. That's what they tell me. I really haven't grown up since I turned 12... maybe that was the age I figured was a good medium between childhood innocence and mature responsibilities. Go too far in either direction and you'll invariably act ridiculous. Not that I don't act a lil' ridiculous despite it all every now and then, but anyhoo...

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Review of "The Passion Of The Christ"

Four guys. Sitting in a theater together...

Mark, 31. Emergency medical technician.

Patrick, 18. Public high school student.

Clark, 24. Home on furlough after 2 years of missionary work in Bosnia.

Chris, 29. Whatever.

That's the setup for this review, about two hours now after seeing The Passion of the Christ. Four guys at various points in their young lives, each of whom have been through any number of experiences. You would think that despite all the hype and publicity that this movie's gotten, that nothing... nothing... could faze these guys, right?

Right?!?

Thirty minutes after the movie ended, none of us had been able to muster much of a word beyond "okay".

Drained. Shell-shocked. Mentally and physically exhausted. Outright stunned. I feel as if I've aged twenty years in two hours. And the other guys said much the same, that they felt something sapped out of them too.

Folks, nothing you have seen, or read, or heard about, will prepare you for this movie. The best I can describe it is what Doug Tennapel (the artist/writer who created Earthworm Jim) had to say about The Passion Of The Christ: "This is a movie that secular Hollywood could not make, but it’s also a movie that the Christian community could not make either."

This movie should have been rated NC-17. I cannot say that enough. It HURTS to watch this... but then again it's supposed to. Mel Gibson has done what no other filmmaker - or other artist for that matter - has been able to do: produce a Jesus that is as fully HUMAN as He is God incarnate. Which makes what happens later all the more MEAN. Gibson went all-out with this one: he pours on the agony, makes you literally scream "PLEASE GOD MAKE IT STOP!!" and then starts playing nasty.

There is stuff in this movie that is downright pornographic. When the Roman guards scourge Jesus, two things occurred to me: this is perhaps the most faithful portrayal of Roman soldiers that's ever been committed to film. For the most part they're fairly honorable men, following orders and upholding Roman law. But in every lot there's the crazies. The ones who have been in the field and away from home for too long. It's making them forget civilization and their superiors have to keep whipping them back into line. These are the same soldiers that Stanley Kubrick showed in the Vietnam sequences of Full Metal Jacket. THOSE are the ones that you wanna reach out and jerk the living snot out of, when you see what they do to Jesus. Gibson made sure that this film showed what a cat-o'-nine-tails would do to a bare back. And that's what begins separating the squeamish from the... come to think of it, no one was anything BUT squeamish here...

... 'Cuz those are CHUNKS of Jesus that are flying across the screen. Bloody bits of skin, muscle and sinew. Blood going all over the guards, who take WAY too much pleasure in doing this, until the "nice" Roman officers make them stop: "You were supposed to punish him, not kill him!" And it still doesn't stop. One of my friends had to choke back tears when the crown of thorns was shoved HARD onto the head of Jesus.

I'm not going to even begin going into the actual crucifiction itself.

Two scenes that stick out in my mind, going back to how Gibson showed the human side of Christ. There's a flashback sequence where we see Jesus - He's not quite at the point where He's about to launch His ministry - is working as a carpenter at home, building a table. His mother Mary calls him to dinner, and... don't want to spoil it, but the interaction between these two is so incredibly sweet, so touching and beautiful and yes FUNNY, and it made me think again to something that you have to pick out for yourself from the Bible: that Jesus loved life, that He could love and laugh as much as any of us...

...and He could also fear. And feel rejected. And scorned. Which brings me to the other scene that keeps bringing itself up...

It takes place during the scourging. Jesus sees Satan. Satan is holding something. I'm not going any further than that.

There are things in this movie that once you see, you can't unsee. They will be stuck in your gray matter for all time. I saw a photograph YEARS ago that haunts me to this day, that I can't even consider talking about without feeling a cold shiver up my spine. Well, The Passion Of The Christ is packed with images like that.

It's not a date movie. It's not something I would feel comfortable taking a small child to, or maybe even take a church youth group to. I'll be seeing it again this Saturday night with my wife (who I still haven't been able to pour my heart out to about this movie if that tells you anything) and another couple from our church. We're having dinner beforehand. Now I'm having to reconsider if this was such a smart plan after all.

But then, there's the ending. And on so many levels it proves why neither secular Hollywood or dedicated Christian filmmakers could have produced a movie like this. Gibson didn't limit himself to either mainstream niceties or ecclesiastical restrictions. The ending is simple, beautiful, and VERY bold. Without a doubt the greatest CGI ever rendered.

Folks, I can't define what The Passion Of The Christ is by any stretch. This is film that transcends filmmaking. If I've one gripe, it's that some of the music in certain parts seems... out of place. Not quite powerful enough. But that's a minor quibble and for the most part the soundtrack delivers itself superbly.

We were finally able to talk, Mark and Patrick and Clark and I. We agreed that it was good. That there may not be a word in the English language to describe it. "That was effective," Clark said.

I can't add any more than that.

But go see The Passion Of The Christ if you can. If for no other reason than to tell your kids that you saw one of, if not the most influential movie in history when it was still in first-run.

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Believe in "Miracle"

The past two weeks kicked the slats out of this part of North Carolina. The snow began falling on January 25 and effectively locked everything down for the better part of the following week. That and two bouts of freezing rain that closed schools all over the place and made travel a major hassle. Now, at last, the last remnants of the white stuff are disappearing, so we've been able to get out and live a bit more.

So this afternoon, Lisa and I went to the movies. Next weekend is Valentine's so I owe her a "chick flick" on top of dinner, but today we saw a lil' flick that's been on my radar screen for some months now.

You gotta see "Miracle", if you haven't done so already. In my opinion it's even better than "Remember The Titans" and that's saying a lot. Easily the best sports-driven movie to come along in awhile to be sure.

"Miracle" is the story of the 1980 U.S. Olympic hockey team and Herb Brooks, its head coach. If I were to say that much, you know exactly how this movie is going to end: with the U.S. team pulling off what some have since called the "sports upset of the century" by toppling the hockey machine that was the Soviet Union's team, undefeated at the Olympics for 20 years. Just the title of the movie more than suggests its plot to even the most casual of sports fans: "Do you believe in miracles?!" NBC sports announcer Al Michaels screamed in the final seconds of that matchup at Lake Placid.

I've read numerous accounts from players on the U.S. team that "Miracle" depicts what happened in the months leading up to that game as accurately as could possibly be done. Which may be what helps "Miracle" as a true-life sports movie: the whole theme of "players from different backgrounds" that's been done to death? It's still here, but it's balanced out against everything else and in the end it's perfect. This is probably the best performance Kurt Russell's ever done: he nailed every nuance of Herb Brooks in this, right down to the manic gum-chewing and overturning the table in the locker room (he really did).

You know what the real theme of this movie is, that's going to get lost on a lot of people? That America is still good, because there's good people to be found here. It's not good because of good government or good management... heck no. It's good because when pushed, when driven, the people of this country can go far. And that's something that's gone missing in the post 9-11 world.

Finally, "Miracle" accomplishes something that no other movie in history has done before or ever will again: using the infamous Jimmy Carter "malaise speech" to good effect :-P

Go see "Miracle". And believe.

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