Leave a Light On (for Thee)

Playradioplay! - I'm Afraid There's a Hole in My Brain

     We were standing on an overpass, the two of us, leaning against the steel railing as traffic, both oncoming and outgoing, sped beneath our feet in flashes of red, yellow, and halogen white on the hottest of hot nights when she said the strangest of strange things to me. The ultimate weakness of violence, she began, gazing upon the cars, trucks and motorcycles as they passed us by, is that it is a descending spiral begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy. Instead of diminishing evil, it multiplies it. You may murder the liar, she continued, dismissively waving her hand toward the stars above, but you cannot murder the lie, nor establish the truth. You may murder the hater, but you do not murder hate, nor establish love. She lit a cigarette at this point, as she's apt to do when something's on her mind; something, as I've come to learn, she can't refrain from sharing. Returning violence for violence multiplies the violence, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out the darkness. Only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. An awkward moment ensued, for I knew not what to say, let alone think. Martin Luther King, Jr. said that, she informed me. Great man, she opined, and a flummoxed "Huh" was all I could manage in the time it took her to toss a cinder block into oncoming traffic.




And that, as we say, was that.

Same Title, Different Song XI

Though it may come as a surprise to longtime readers of this hallowed blog, the topic of this post is not Helen Slater, for while Ms. Slater is many things (awesome, for starters*) invincible isn't one of them - which is a shame, really, but box office receipts are the bread and butter of actors and actresses. Nevertheless, invincibility is the matter at hand, and Helen Slater has a role to play, one I'll get back to in a moment or five.

In a classic case of metropolitan rivalry, we have Chicago's very own OK Go going head-to-head with New York City's Pat Benatar for control of the term itself. Now, I won't divulge which of the two songs I prefer but the appearance of Helen Slater** should give you a big, almost legendary hint.

OK Go - Invincible
Pat Benatar - Invincible


* See also, perfect.
** When they finally come to destroy the Earth, they'll have to go through Slater first.

Dancing (with Yourself)

Let's get this party started already.

The Shoes - Time to Dance
Niki & The Dove - The Fox
Chairlift - Met Before

...And You're Lazy, Too!

Have I ever told you that I'm extraordinarily lazy?* If not, the picture above should dispel any notions to the contrary. As an adorable little girl's sixth birthday rapidly approached, I decided against a traditional card, opting for something digital instead. To achieve this goal, I taped six sheets of paper to a wall, and as you can clearly see, composed a rather colorful birthday message, though there was much more to the process than that. Actually, what I did was paint each letter, take a shot with my camera, paint another letter, take a picture, repeat, repeat, repeat (repeat) until I had enough material to create an animated gif, which can be seen below.

Everything written thus far may not suggest laziness but here's the catch: her birthday was on May 28th and the picture at the top of this post was taken yesterday.* Seriously. When it comes to stuff one can put off till tomorrow, call me sensei.


* In college, I'd eat ravioli straight from the can just to avoid the arduous tasks of a) having to microwave that shit and b) cleaning the dish afterward.
** I guess it should be mentioned that I've never been huge into posters or, for that matter, wall fixtures of any kind. The last time I had something on a wall, Duran Duran was hip and The Monster Squad was new. In other words, if something goes up these days, rest assured it's going to stay up.

Six Shots till Summation: Rage in a Cage

Werewolf in a Women's Prison (2006)

You may be thinking to yourself, Women? Werewolf? Prison? Awesome! and you'd be correct -in theory, at least- because everyone loves exploitation films but alas, ideals and reality don't always click as well as, say, Harrison Forbes and dachshund genitalia. This film is one such example of that sad fact. For a B-movie it's not all that bad, but when I see a title like Werewolf in a Women's Prison I expect that shit to be golden like King Midas' feces. On the upside, it's refreshing to see a werewolf willing to hit the gym seven days a week just to play a lupine Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Hey, have I mentioned that the werewolf in this film is totally ripped? Because it totally is.

Free, Agency

Mascot

Lovable lab, or stone-cold killer? Decide for yourself yet either way, this dog is now, officially, the best thing since sliced bread. But hey, you say, sliced bread isn't all that impressive and while I'm sure you feel that way, Pep told me to tell you that being a dog sentenced to life in prison is, in fact, much more impressive than getting one's car washed or whatever else you mentioned on Facebook today, so go eat some sliced bread and stop criticizing me already.

Same Title, Different Song X

Today's competition is a monster; specifically, a genetically engineered beast of a match-up designed by top Soviet scientists exploiting the very best in sports, sport-based, and sporty technology. To sum things up in a single word, I give you...


DRAGO!


On the slight chance that you actually grew up in a place like the Soviet Union, North Korea, or Newfoundland (and thus had no access to popular culture) here's five of the greatest minutes in cinematic history to help you get up to speed.



Now that your life has been enhanced by 53.5% you're ready for today's music. First up, Australian electronic band Cut Copy's single, 'Hearts on Fire', followed by the nostalgia-fueled juggernaut produced by John Cafferty & The Beaver Brown Band. Stallone would be proud.

Cut Copy - Hearts on Fire
John Cafferty & The Beaver Brown Band - Hearts on Fire

Trivia
Back in 1988, PK's very own Harrison Forbes trained for weeks in the cold Burlington wilderness (climbed mountains, lifted ox carts full of elderly people, got shouted at by his dead friend's trainer, etc.) for the sole purpose of opening a jar of spaghetti sauce while shouting PREGO! True story. 

Time Will Tell (Mesh)

The third post I wrote on this (hallowed) blog back in 2005 was about the Miami Heat, and Dwyane Wade specifically. Going way, Wade back, I found the fourth paragraph interesting:

LeBron? I'm not ready for that one yet. I don't want to go there. Ask me in a year or two. LeBron right now is still more tentative than Wade. He shoots the 3-ball better, but his drive isn't as smooth as DW, his J not as pure. But he's 3 years younger. Perhaps if 'Bron played a year or two in college and they were closer in age we could critique them fairly. But we can't. The fact is that Wade, in his second season, is simply the better player. Barring an injury on either side, it's going to be fun watching them both and debating who's better.

For me, it's been more fun in 2012 watching them play together, watching them win the 2012 title together. One thing is certain, though: Wade was the better player in '06, James the King Shit of Fuck Mountain in '12. LeBron's 2012 Playoffs performance was absolutely, incredibly, amazingly, abcredimazing. It was legendariblimazing.

As a Miami Heat fan, that's been both easy and, at times, weird to digest. I love Dwyane Wade more than I've loved any basketball player (John Starks is a close second). Hell, I named our dachshund, Flash, after him. When LeBron signed with the Heat in the summer of 2010, I was elated; who wouldn't want the best basketball player on the planet signing with their favorite team? Still, the question lingered: "How are Wade and LeBron going to mesh?"

Answer: "Sometimes hot, sometimes not."

Regarding the James/Wade dynamic, Bill Simmons made a salient point the other day:

Basketball doesn't work that way, for the same reason you don't need two transcendent lead guitarists for a rock band.

The one-two James-Wade punch worked against Indiana with Bosh out, but Simmons is right; someone has to lead, and someone has to defer. As much as I love Dwyane Wade, LeBron had to be the captain of the ship if the Heat were to win another title.

He was, they did, and now South Beach has another hero, a Superman to stand tall next to its Flash.

Woof.

Children's Literature

How to draw an arrow:

Start with this:

>>

Then, do this:

---

Finally, finish with this:

>

Then you have this:

>>--->

And now you're ready to hunt.

See how easy that was?