Surly

Captioning Horror

~ lobablanca

Will Smith, second from right, walks on a street in Beijing. His son Jaden is co-starring with Jackie Chan in a remake of The Karate Kid called Kung Fu Kid. Dad Will is a co-producer of the film.

See, the actual photo that matches this caption doesn’t even matter. It’s a craptacularly grainy paparazzi shot that really would only appeal to the most die-hard Will Smith fans. I am not one of those people.

I am, however, one of what I’m sure are thousands (possibly even millions) of people horrified by this caption. Kung Fu Kid? Are you friggin’ kidding me? Please, someone sweep the leg before Hollywood remakes every movie ever made.

As pathetic as it is, though, we have no one to blame but ourselves. We keep going to these remakes, reboots, regurgitations, re-whatevers. All Hollywood needs to see is even the slightest glimmer of a profit and they’re convinced they’ve got a winning formula. Doesn’t matter that the formula tastes about as disgusting as pabulum, as long as we keep swallowing it, they’re going to keep mixing it up.

I think one of the most disheartening remakes that I have heard of recently is A Nightmare on Elm Street. I think that recent remakes of Halloween and Friday the 13th have proven that more is less, and lightning really doesn’t strike more than once (with the exception of Star Trek: The Next Generation, of course).

I suspect I’m not the target audience anymore anyway. Actually, I suspect I never have been the target audience of anyone beyond places like Intergalactic Trading Company and Diamond Select Toys. It is what it is. Here, however, is my own crack at captioning another shot I passed across during my pre-work Interwebz perambulation. Hope you enjoy!

<img src="http://www.lobablanca.com/blog09/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/blanchfox.jpg" alt="Cate Blanchett begins to seriously regret her request to sit in the cheap seats…” title=”blanchfox” width=”424″ height=”459″ class=”aligncenter size-full wp-image-1247″ />
Cate Blanchett begins to seriously regret her request to sit in the cheap seats...

Government-Restricted Stupidity

~ lobablanca

Opening line from this article that has set me on my latest rant:

Virginia drivers will face new restrictions today, when hundreds of laws take effect, including a ban on sending or reading text messages and e-mails.

This is why I hate people. Not cell phones. People. Stupid people who think it’s a good idea to compose an e-mail while roaring down the road at 80+, more often than not in some ginormous vehicle that could house the entire Lilliputian population in just the glove compartment.

Several times now I’ve nearly been unwillingly shuffled out of my mortal coil by these offenses to common sense…these mutated beings with cell phone-shaped tumors that connect one hand to the side of their head and cause the other to flail around emphatically. This, of course, means that

Presidential Age-Off: Bartlet v. Roslin

~ lobablanca

Two of my all-time favorite television shows are Aaron Sorkin’s The West Wing and Ron Moore’s reboot of Battlestar Galactica. Interestingly enough, at the heart of both shows is a strong vein of politics played both fairly and deceptively (not that big a surprise from the former show, but a lovely layer of the latter that made it such a pleasure to watch).

Both shows also featured presidents, one of the United States and one of what’s left of the 12 colonies of Caprica. Martin Sheen played U.S. President Jed Bartlet, a bright beacon of hope during the dismal darkness of the real Bush II presidency. Mary McDonnell portrayed Laura Roslin, former Secretary of Education who found herself thrust into the presidency when all in line before her were killed in the Cylon attack on Caprica that started the BSG journey.

Beyond the obvious similarities, both of these presidents held health secrets from their constituents. Bartlet had relapsing-remitting multiple sclerosis. By the end of the show, the disease was causing a rapid and noticeable decay of his body.

In the very first episode of BSG, Roslin learns that she has terminal cancer. By the end of BSG…well…like I said, she had terminal cancer. I’m sure you can figure this one out on your own.

Now even under the healthiest situations, a president always leaves his station looking much more bedraggled and aged than he did coming into it. Look at recent evidence. Du(m)bya left looking much older than the actual numbers of his age (or his IQ). And the only way Clinton was still feeling young at the end of his presidency was when he was groping up interns in the Oval Office. Several have even pointed out that Obama is already starting to show more gray than he did prior to January 20, 2009.

Add the strain of an incurable disease and you’re bound to look even more wrung out, right? Certainly was the case with President Bartlet.

bartlet-bae

In the beginning, he was a middle-aged statesman, with still dark hair and minimal lines to his face. He was commanding and centered and the White House was bright with hope in his presence. By the end, however, he’d gone gray with white at his temples, the lines had deepened, his stance slouched and aided by a cane, and the brightness of his new administration slowly dimming to a close (aren’t these photographers just too clever?).

Yes, I’m sure that some of this was makeup decisions done to enhance the strain of both being president and fighting a once relapsed illness that is now making up for wasted time.

BUT…then there is Laura Roslin.

roslin-bae

To borrow that ridiculous BSG epithet: What the frack?!

Seriously, I cannot even begin to express the joy I felt inside when I saw Mary McDonnell that first time as Laura Roslin. It had been a while since I had last seen her, and then there she was, wrinkles and crow’s feet, and looking absolutely beautiful. Even better, she looked REAL. And I was filled with so much hope and happiness that here was an actress who was embracing her age and all the lines that came with it, and doing it with incomparable grace.

This second photo is how she appeared in the final season. You could bounce a quarter off her face, it’s so tight. Dull, expressionless forehead. No more lines around her eyes or her mouth. What you don’t see in this photo, but what was depressingly obvious in the show, is the fact that this “youthful” appearance came with a price. One side of her mouth droops now as though she’s had a stroke. Her eyes also don’t always blink synchronously anymore.

This was supposed to be a woman who was leading the remnants of a destroyed world through the unknown dangers of space while fighting a seemingly unstoppable Cylon enemy and being slowly consumed by incurable cancer. But this is how she looked at the end. Yes, they did her up on the show with pale makeup and a “cancer” wig (which is what she’s wearing in this second photo). But that face…

It was perfectly acceptable to show the progression of age and illness with Bartlet, but Roslin not only had to lead the colonists to earth, but she had to do it while apparently paying regular visits to Doc Cottle for galactic Botox injections. Maybe he was really just injecting her cancer treatments straight into her face and this was the end result.

jlange

Obviously, what I’m really doing at this point is screaming into the roar of the Hollywood machine that makes women feel less than publicly acceptable if they dare show even one shadow of an age line on their face. How else can we explain this recent photo of the now perpetually surprised Jessica Lange? Would you have even known this was Lange had I not identified her? I sure as hell didn’t recognize her without a caption.

And why is this acceptable? Because we’ve got fat tubs of douche like Rush Limbaugh clogging up the airwaves with “relevant” questions like is this country ready to have to watch Hillary Clinton age if she became president. Newsflash, Tubby: You’re not looking any younger (or thinner) yourself.

We all get old. It’s a fact of life. I’m in my early 30s, but I can see time leaving little trails across my face. Wrinkles around my eyes, parenthetical lines on each side of my mouth, a bagginess to my eyelids. Who gives a shit? The lines come from living, and I’d far rather have lines than not live. And guess what? You can tighten your face to the point of splitting in two and it’s not going to fool the Reaper.

For two seasons, Mary McDonnell made me so very happy when I would see her very real and very beautiful lines. I can’t say that I blame her or fault her for her decision to join the plastic posse. I can’t imagine the pressure she and her female acting peers must feel to constantly look 25. But just once, I’d like for an actress to just flip the double bird and embrace her age and all that it brings with it

GenX-cessive: Man v. Food

~ lobablanca

You make me sick. Your entire havoc-inducing, thieving, whoring generation disgusts me.

Thank you, Principal Himbry, for that rousing diatribe against my beloved Generation X. Yes, this is my generation. And, no, I don’t think we’re an entirely bad generation. In fact, we’ve done some pretty cool things during our time on this planet.

But I come not to praise Gen-X, but to bury it…in my personal seething frustration. And I’m dragging you all down with me. What’s got me all in a frothy lather now? The Travel Channel’s show Man v. Food.

Hey, you've got a little something on your...oh, never mind.
Hey, you've got a little something on your...oh, never mind.

The “Man” in question is Adam Richman. His modus operandi is to travel to different regions of the country, highlighting their culinary delights and downfalls as he goes. Then he accepts whatever ridiculously indulgent “food challenge” that said region has to offer. Past challenges have included attempting to consume in one (sometimes timed) sitting:

  • One 72-ounce steak.
  • One 7-1/2-pound hamburger.
  • Five 24-ounce milkshakes.
  • One 7-pound breakfast burrito.
  • One meter-long bratwurst.

Now I’m not ever going to be mistaken for a highly religious wolf…but I do believe that gluttony is a sin. Especially when all around the world there are people starving to death who would be happy with a sliver of the food that Richman gorges on during each show. Hell, there are people right in our own freedom fry-loving U.S. of A. who are starving (oh, but don’t even get me on the topic of these waify little glamor girl tumbleweeds starving themselves on purpose and looking so frail that you just want to scream at them to eat a freakin’ pie, but you’re afraid the impact of the scream would snap them in two). Meanwhile, Mr. Richman is paid to regularly glut himself to the point of vomiting.

This show disgusts me in ways that I didn’t think were possible anymore. We’re so fat in this country that they have to make special extra-wide coffins for us. Do we really need shows like this? And is this the only way we can remain competitive with the rest of the world? Yeah, you might be home to more Nobel Prize winners, world-renowned scientists, and brainiac children, but we’ve got this dude who can eat a plateful of food that weighs more than a baby seal! USA! USA!

Give me a break. And people are defending this show, saying things like it’s our right as Americans to eat this way. Yes, for those of you unfamiliar with our Constitution, nestled between our right to trial by jury in civil cases and our right not to be cruelly or unusually punished is clearly stated our right to be obnoxious, fat nationalists. In your face, Queen Lizzy!

Sigh. Will this become another regular feature here at the lair: a semi-regular evisceration of all the things that bring down the overall cool factor of being a member of Gen-X? Maybe. Maybe not. I’ve just been in a particularly snarky mood the past couple of days, for no particular reason. And this post has been stewing for a few days. Feels good to finally get it out of my system. See? Blog of Dorian Gray, Redux!

Superpowers Not Included

~ lobablanca

Today, as the British would say, was utter pants.

No, that’s not it.

You know what ol’ Jack Burton always says about days like this.

No, that’s not it either.

Today stunk.

There! That’s what I was going for!

Yeah, so today really bit fuzzy puppies. I had a total crap day at work, to go along with a depressing string of crap days that really can’t be avoided and are, in fact, slated to come to an end very soon. But for the time being, utter crap. Then I came home to rejoin my regularly scheduled battle to their death with my seasonal foe, the house centipede. The little fuckers are already sprouting up in baby form. I greatly prefer the baby to the fully grown centipede, but they still freak the bejesus out of me. (Warning, if you are easily creeped out by bugs, you might not want to look at this picture; hell, even if you aren’t easily creeped out, you still might not want to look…I sure as hell wish I didn’t have to ever see another of these things again). I also discovered a few minutes ago that I bungled a file that I really didn’t need to bungle.

Crap.

But you know what made me feel better? Turning myself into a superhero. Yes, that’s right, thanks to the utter Canadian genius of my good friend, weathereye, I discovered the unmatchable joy of HeroMachine.com. Using Version 2.5, I made the following two images: One of me as my alter ego, LobaBlanca, with white wolf sidekick; and one of me in a DS9-era medical duty uniform, with white wolf sidekick (what? I’d totally have a wolf with me if I was a Starfleet officer).

Before you ask, I don’t know why I added a gun to my superhero version since I apparently can throw white-hot fireballs. i just thought it looked cool. And I wish I could have been holding a tricorder or a hypospray in the second picture, but I made do with what they had available. Anyway, these have sufficed to make my day a shred better than it’s been since I woke up. Hopefully, tomorrow will be even slightly better. And hopefully, by next week, everything will be right as rain.

lblb-dc

Catty Loba

~ lobablanca
So say me-ow
So say me-ow

Well, wasn’t I just the cattiest wolf ever in yesterday’s post? Slashing out at Gen-Y like the sad, still-sometimes-flannel-wearing Gen-Xer that I am. I would say that I’m simply out of touch because I’m now over 30 and I just “don’t get” the generation after my own. Truth is, though, that I don’t even get my own generation most of the time.

I really don’t get, however, the attitude that I have witnessed in some younger coworkers. Things like expecting kudos because they showed up at the time they were supposed to show up. This was a true moment from my last workplace (stupid me, thinking that such a thing was kinda sorta mandatory).

Uh-oh, I’m feeling another catty surge. Maintain, Loba. Maintain!

I guess I just don’t expect that much out of my work. I expect a regular paycheck. I expect to work with like-minded professionals (most of the time). I expect that I will enjoy some of what I do, but that’s not the point (see expectation number one). I don’t expect to get constant kudos for doing what I’m paid to do. When I started where I am now, I had to fill out a form stating when I would arrive and when I would leave. I just assumed that this would be a daily expectation, not something that required daily affirmation.

True, I severely stretch the limits of “business casual” with my Docs and more-casual-than-business attire some days (I tend to use as my excuse the fact that it’s just not the designer/IT style to be dressy, which works most of the time). I also indulge in the Gen-X/Y need for ADD-style computer use, with multiple programs and multiple tabs running in Firefox, all vying for a piece of my attention (like right now: I’ve got five programs running and seven tabs open to different Web sites, including one of the ones I manage).

However, I also know that when it comes time to buckle down and get the job done, I do just that. I come in early. I stay late. I take work home with me if I need to do so. I pull weekend duty or late-night duty. No, it’s not fun. It is what it is. Yes, my boss thanks me profusely and I very much appreciate that. But I don’t expect it, because 9 times out of 10, she’s right there in the trenches with me, doing the same thing.

I need to be more lenient, I suppose. The work place is a constantly evolving place. I know for a fact that I would not have made it in the work environment my grandparents worked in. Then again, look at all that has changed since then. Would their environment have existed if they’d had IMDb, blogs, and online news one mouse-click away? Probably not. But would they have lowered their expectations of coworkers and employees because of these things? Should they have? Should we?

Bring Your Brats to Work Day

~ lobablanca
Take my stapler again and I will cut you!
Those stupid kids tried to steal my stapler!

Ironically, no, I’m not the one who called today by this entry’s eponymous name. One of my coworkers is to thank for this one.

For those not in the know, today in America is “Take Our Daughters and Sons to Work” Day. Otherwise known as “Get Out of School Free” Day, or, as I call it, “Big Freakin’ Joke” Day.

See, this day was originally begun by the Ms. Foundation for Women back in 1993 as “Take Our Daughters to Work” Day. It was begun as a way of showing young girls that the modern workforce was not just a boys’ club anymore and that there were just as many career opportunities out there for them as there were for stinky boys.

Then apparently someone whined that it wasn’t fair that this was a day just for girls. Yeah. You know what else isn’t fair? That women still make only 77 cents to a man’s dollar in some workplaces. Strangely enough, however, I’ve never been told that I only have to do 77 percent of the work in comparison to my male coworkers. Another thing that isn’t fair…life is full of such moments; those whingy boys should have been taught this lesson early.

To make matters even worse, this day has somehow metamorphosed into a complete and utter joke. Kids come to work with their parents and are handed over to staff, who have to give up part of or their entire day to basically provide free child care while the parents work. Nope, the kids don’t even stay with their parents throughout the day. They get shown around the office and then given “activities” to entertain them. Things like games and coloring. Then they’re fed. Then more activities. Once, they even went to the movies. Then a snack. Perhaps next year, a nap can be worked into the schedule.

[Note: I am basing all this on what I have witnessed at my current and previous places of employment. Perhaps today is celebrated in more sincere and productive ways elsewhere; I have simply never been witness to such an occurrence.]

This is just further evidence that even the best ideas can go horribly wrong. I think this was a wonderful idea when it was originally created. I think that my generation was pretty much the first to be encouraged to believe, from a young age, that even girls could grow up to be whatever they wanted to be. This isn’t the case anymore. Today, girls and boys both seem to be imprinted from a very early age that they not only can do or be whatever they want, but that they are entitled to do or be whatever.

I, therefore, propose that this day either be abolished or changed once again, this time to become “Reality Check” Day in which these obnoxious little children are taught that, no, the world is indeed not your oyster or waiting to be served to you on a silver platter. And the workplace is not going to be like elementary school, where you were given kudos and accolades (and really stupid “Great Kid” bumper stickers) just for being you! (Generation Y, after reading articles like this, I’m looking right directly at you.)

It’s instead an Office Space amalgamation of banality, insanity, frustration, and disappointment…but sometimes, every so often, you’re lucky enough to stumble upon something that you really love doing and that sometimes even brings you accolades from supervisors. Sometimes you’re lucky enough to find a job that you almost 100 percent love…except for those rare occasions when children impinge themselves upon your usually happily-cloistered-among-adults existence…

The Miseducation of America

~ lobablanca

During my commute this morning, I heard about a report released by The Education Trust that states that, if current trends continue, one in four students currently in high school here in the States will drop out before graduating.

So much for No Child Left Behind.

Even more disturbing was the very next report, which announced that state budgets around the country are in such dire trouble that tuition rates for many public colleges and universities are slated to skyrocket. Some states are even considering mid-semester tuition hikes to cover their shortfalls.

Begs the question then: Why is it so important for high school students to actually graduate when they will more than likely not be able to afford a college degree, which in today’s society has become what a high school diploma was to my parents’ generation?

Sorry, but I am particularly surly when it comes to this topic. I find it abhorrent that we are such a global failure when it comes to educating our children. And the failure is so multi-tiered that it’s going to take a lot of work for us to ever come close to improving things.

First, teachers are horrifically underpaid, under-appreciated, and in some places, under-protected. I had a friend who left her contractor job to become a teacher at a school here in D.C. She left after less than a year because she had a breakdown after being subjected to verbal and physical abuse from her students. Oh, did I mention that her students were 6 years old?

That leads to number two: Parents are severely failing when it comes to raising children who understand that you don’t bite and spit at your teacher. Or attack them with a baseball bat, which is what a high school student here in Maryland did a few years ago.

It doesn’t take long for qualified teachers to realize that they are in for a world of abuse for a pitiful paycheck. So schools are very often left scrambling to find people with bare minimum qualifications (Are you a warm body? You’re hired!) to teach students filled with such utter apathy and contempt as to be uncontrollable. They also wield undeserved power over teachers. Many teachers are terrified of taking any kind of punitive action toward unruly students out of fear that they will be accused of some horrible misdeed. I’ve known teachers who refused to speak with a student in private without either having another teacher present as a witness or leaving the door to the classroom wide open.

Next there is the still unchanged truth that school is “danger and disease wrapped in darkness and silence.” Okay, so maybe that’s space according to Dr. McCoy, but I think it can be applied to many schools. Ten years after Columbine and I question what, if anything we have learned from the actions of those two shooters. True, school officials now take threats more seriously, but have they also taken seriously the scarring effects that perpetual bullying can have on the psyche and the soul? Especially on kids who obviously have very little parental supervision and interaction. I mean, come on, these two boys were stockpiling Terminator amounts of guns and ammo, trying to build bombs in their rooms…and their parents were completely clueless.

(I’ve said much more in my last blog about Columbine, and I will be posting a link to that blog very soon. I promise.)

So you’ve got terrified and sometimes under-qualified teachers dealing with unruly students who often lack any form of structure or discipline from their parents, interacting in an often bully-infested school culture. Is it any wonder students are dropping out at an alarming rate?

Of course, this is not the environment at all schools. But it is a recipe for disaster that I think is playing out in way too many cities throughout this country and that cannot be ignored any longer. Improved testing is not going to solve this problem. Government intervention isn’t going to solve it either (unless the Obama administration has some clever trick up their sleeve that is going to retrain parents in how to raise even moderately behaved children).

I truly believe that the change does need to start in the home. Parents need to become more involved in their children’s lives. Ask them about their day, teach them not to disrespect others, join them while watching television or playing a game, engage them in conversation. And if you just can’t be bothered with all that, then don’t have any kids. If you raise them correctly from the very beginning, 9 times out of 10, I’m willing to bet they’ll be a far better little person for it.

And then you send them off to school, where they don’t abuse their teachers or their peers. And then, just maybe, teachers will stop being afraid and will start returning to the schools. You know what, though? Start paying them better! Screw the millions thrown at athletes. If these undeserving demigods are really playing the sport because of their love of the game, switch their annual income down to match the median income of the state for which their team plays. We’ll see just how deep that “love” really runs. And send that extra money into the communities where it will actually do some good, including keeping college tuitions down low enough so that everyone can afford the opportunity to a higher education, not just the rich.

I know, I know – I’m dreaming on all these fronts. I just find it so freaking frustrating every time I hear statistics like I did this morning. We should be doing better by our country’s children than this. We need to do better. But what do we do? And is it too late for the current generations? Or has the damage already been done?

Psychological Audit

~ lobablanca

Due to the piss-poor economic state of affairs as of late, many people are choosing to tighten their belts when it comes to monthly expenditures, even if they happen to fall in the “Well Off” category. As noted in this WaPo article:

Economists say many still-flush consumers are handcuffed by psychological traps that cause them to tighten their purse strings even though economic hardship is not their reality. Underscoring the crucial role that consumer psychology will play in turning around the economy, President Obama and Federal Reserve Chairman Ben S. Bernanke have both been on the hustings this week sounding notes of optimism.

The most troubling things about this quote are: a) the fact that fiscal responsibility is being labeled a “psychological trap”; and b) the fact that the Obama administration is trying to paint a happy face on this situation as a way of encouraging people to spend more.

Does no one find it horrifying that the fate of the American economy apparently rests on the shoulders of consumers and how much Chinese-made crap we’re willing to buy? Is our economic salvation really contingent upon people like me finally breaking down and buying a plasma television? Because if it is, we’re in bad shape. I’m a cheap mofo. You know the old saying: “Live simply that others might simply live.” I believe it’s more than just something to read off a bumper sticker. I think it should be part of our overall belief system.

Yes, I own way more DVDs than I really need. I have five bookshelves full of reading material. I love my Xbox 360. I’m not going to lie and act like I don’t indulge myself now and again. But the indulgences are few and not what you’d expect. My DVDs and video games? Many of them come from used CD/DVD stores or Amazon Marketplace (the greatest online service on earth, if you ask me). Marketplace is also from where most of my book purchases come. No shame in proving that “one man’s junk is another geek’s treasure.” I come nowhere near spending $100 a day (of course, I’m also not “upper-income,” so I guess I’m okay there). If I do spend a significant amount of money, it’s either because I couldn’t find a better deal, or it’s for someone else.

I’m just really displeased with the idea that we are being expected to spend more in order to fix our economy. If that’s the case, then this country needs to start giving us better merchandise. I’m sick and tired of shoddily made merchandise that breaks soon after I purchase it. You want me to spend more money? Give me better quality. Oh, and here’s an idea: Maybe you could give me that better quality actually built here in America. I get that this is supposed to be a global economy, but that doesn’t mean that we have to completely gut a whole subset of our own economy. How many thousands of former industry workers would love to be able to work again? Call me crazy, but bringing some of these jobs back to our own shores might do more to boost our economy than buying a pile of Chinese-made plastic crap from Wal-mart ever would.