Dig This! Tuesday

Time agin for one of my non-posts, which means I post something almost totally devoid of new content. So, here are a couple of things that got my attention from the web today.

• A 2001 black space monolith action figure. I'm gonna buy one, strap it to my forehead, and hope to evolve.

You may have noticed in the sidebar to the blog that I have an interest in wine, beer, and booze in general. It intersects with a passing interest in science here--

• Grapes ain't gettin' enough sex. This NYT article explains how genetics and cloning are resulting in inferior wines.

Finally, in the comic book department, as the nerd world rushes to weigh in on the folding of Wizard, here are some mildly inspired parodies of Batman Covers:

• Batman v. Internet Memes.

Here ends the churning of other's ideas represented as work-on-my-part.

Shameless Promotions

What's a blog for, after all, except indulging all your own narcissism?

First, let me give a little cyber-ink to the people running the Farce/Film blog and podcast. They give interesting and insightful written reviews of films -- all kinds, not just art-house stuff that never plays near you -- and have a rollicking, rambling, sometimes inebriated podcast that serves up dueling opinions of weekly releases amongst a rotating cast of semi-regular commentators.

In the interest of full disclosure, I admit they are all mostly former students of mine, but if you know me at all, you should realize that doesn't mean I'm cutting them any slack. What I'm saying is: these people are the real deal. As proof of that, when they invited me to sit in on a podcast episode, I agreed. The best students are the ones you want to keep working with, even after the formal Professorial relationship has ended and the Farce/Film group falls into that category. Of course, I claim some credit for them being the thoughtful critics they are, because that's what all good narcissists, er, Professors, do, right? Bring it always back to themselves?

Anyway, the actual shameless self-promotion is when I say -- go listen to the podcast with me in the guest chair. I talk about Green Hornet, Hot Tub Time Machine, Cameron Diaz in underwear, and NC-17 ratings. Beware, we cuss. A lot. We're all adults, even if I knew everyone else when they weren't.

If you listen to the cast, let any of us know what you think, even if you hate it (although don't hate the one I'm on). Follow any of those good people on Facebook or Twitter, and you won't regret it. Follow me on Twitter, and you might.

In The New Year

Ah, that first day back to work after the holidays... the rude shock of being back to work and all the fun being over. No more sleeping in, no more pastries and coffee for late brunch, no more wine in the early afternoon. It's like Christmas shat you out and left you at the curb.

And that's all I have to say about the holidays.

Let's move on to 2011, shall we? I don't even want cast a fond glance over my shoulder at 2010, because, you know, it's over. Forget all the top ten lists, I want to start a clean page and move forward. So much of my life is spent looking back and over-analyzing things I can't change - should have zigged instead of zagged, etc. - that I'm just beaten down with the past. I don't want the baggage anymore, and this is fair notice. If I fucked you over unfairly in the past, I'm sorry, really I am and you can bet I've beat myself up about it, but I just don't care anymore. I want to shake all that off my shoulders and have a little fun. What do you say, 2011?

What does that really mean? It means I want to focus on the things that really matter to me: my wife and kids, my friends, friends I haven't met yet, cooking and wine, writing and reading. I gots to work to pay the man, but you know what? I'm not doing any freebies for the man anymore. I'll work when I'm supposed to, but the rest of the time is mine, so back off.

Ready, 2011? Let's get it on.