Movie-a-week: 22 to go

Haven’t been keeping up the pace in recent weeks. Instead, I watched the season of “Boardwalk Empire” and the three seasons of “Breaking Bad.” If you’re bored, ask me about those some time. You’ll be shocked to know I have opinions.

Cyrus(imdb.com)

Funny in spots. Has a certain charm and sweetness. Oh, and I have no idea why the movie was made. Seemed to try to build to some spot where there’d be some sort of revelation, whether it be darkly comedic, tragic or happily romantic – I would have taken anything. But the credits started rolling and I was talking to an empty room: “wait, huh?… but…”

Inception(imdb.com)

Great movie. Smart. Complicated. I think I hung in okay, though it would probably be worth seeing again just to get everything straight. But I won’t. Cause here’s the thing – it’s a movie about dreams. Which is only 3% better than listening to someone at work tell me a story about their dream last night. I really struggle with this. It’s not that I’m uninterested in the mechanics of dreaming. I like dreams. You know, my own dreams.

But comparing and analyzing and hearing every detail about someone else’s subconscious and their imagination? That really doesn’t do much for me. “And then Matt Damon walked into the room. But it wasn’t really Matt Damon, cause he took off his Damon mask and it was actually a giant piranha, but one that could sing. Weird, though, because the piranha’s voice sounded just like my dad’s voice. And then the piranha started doing this bad Jerry Lewis impersonation, you know ‘HEY LAAAADEE!,’ but I could still hear my dad’s voice. And that’s when the transvestite walked into the room…” If there’s no limits to what can happen, then is anything that happens actually interesting?

Which brings me to the movie. Because I feel like some of the best action and special effects we’ve ever seen in a film were put to waste here. Even though Nolan did a fine job of providing rules and structure to how the dream-manipulation worked, it was still all imaginary. So all the flying-bodies-fighting, amazing car wrecks and shoot-outs – they all seemed SO MUCH less exciting simply because – they weren’t real! Even if there were consequences to the action, they weren’t immediate or natural. Which never allowed me to get into it.

Again, great movie. But I couldn’t get completely immersed. That’s probably on me.

Where have YOU been?

Between computer problems and a crazy schedule, I’ve had a reluctant hiatus. Then again, there’s nothing more boring than a blog post talking about why there haven’t been blog posts.

New “Bet Your Nuts” game started today. Jump in on Tuesday’s games. I know this game has hardly caught fire, but I kinda like it. We’ll run it through the basketball tourney, so that’s four more weeks after this one. Five more chances to win your own trophy.

I’m going to have a great week. I suggest you do the same. Rhymes with winning. Anyone?

Jason Sudeikis

Looking good in the KU gear. Rumored to be dating (or recently have dated) Scarlett Johansson. He might be cooler than you or me.

Happy Valentine’s Day

New Bet Your Nuts game starts today. Click the link at the top of the page if you’d like to play. You can be as cool as Bieber’s ringtone.

After the jump, an extended Valentine’s mix tape – from me to you…

(more…)

It’s what I do

Rec league basketball game last week: our noble hero Brent went in for a tough shot and was met by an athletic (THAT’S RACIST!) youngster on the other team, who blocked said shot. With authority, as the kids say.

This young man then proceeded to produce some smack talk that… well, let’s just say it didn’t match the elegance and clarity of even a Dikembe Mutumbo. For a kid who was raised, I’m guessing, on rap music, I expected better. But, he made his point…if his point was that yes, indeed, he blocked Brent’s shot.

Mr. Fry decided to not let this moment go without some commentary of his own. (Shocking, I know.) So at the other end, as we were lining up for a free throw, he informed Mr. Blockety Block that the extra verbal mustard wasn’t necessary. And in the setting of a rec league game, with an audience of only two referees (and they’re barely watching anyway)… I think we can all agree with Brent’s point. Don’t really need to hear it. No one cares. No one’s watching. Save it for the next game that’s televised by Channel 6 (which will be never).

The kid’s response tickled me. After the bravado and chest-thumpin’ in celebration of rejecting high-flying-Brent’s shot, he was startled by the backlash. Looked a little hurt, even. And then he said, “Nothing personal, man. It’s what I do. If I swat you, I’m going to tell you about it. It’s what I do.”

So there you go. It’s what he does. And, even though Brent might disagree, that made perfect sense to me. Kid blocks shot – no matter situation or degree of difficulty – and he lets the world know. Heck, it’s not personal. He’s just yelling to the rafters that he’s great and you suck. Don’t be offended by the insecure need for self-praise and validation. Heck, if he DIDN’T raise the ruckus, would anyone even know about him? Would the statistician have remembered to record the blocked shot on the non-existent stat sheet?

But I digress. It’s what he does. Sure, I could continue to go on about the weird narcissism that it might hint at (ME! BLOCKED SHOT!!)… but it’s not like his act was some alien response we don’t see daily. He was just doing what he knows. What any kid his age would do. Heck, he was raised on images of athletes self-promoting with Hulk-Hogan-in’ pleas for applause after every good play. Of course it trickles down. And in the huge stakes of City of Lawrence rec league game – you can bet this kid was going to let himself shine.

Why tell this story? I dunno. But I did see this last night and it made me giggle even more.

Just six nights after witnessing one of the more mundanely-unathletic feats in the history of Lawrence basketball facilities (no offense, Brent… it’s what I do) – as well as the lamey celebration that followed it…. just six days later this Louisville kid performs one of the great in-game, armpit-in-your-face dunks of the season and he’s not allowed to land and stare? He’s not allowed to look in an opponent’s general direction?

Sure, we know it was a “good lord, I own you” stare-down. But there wasn’t a single gesture nor single sound uttered. And he didn’t reposition himself to stand over the kid on the floor even more, which we’ve seen elsewhere. It was just a split-second pause of two eyes intensely saying, “thanks for the sex!” Which… did you see what he did? He deserves a little something, no?

Important Conclusion: Brent would have totally gotten up from being poster-dunked on and thrown some punches. Anyone argue THAT?

One and done

Brent Musburger said those three words 435 times during last night’s telecast. Which is impressive, since it exceeds his partner Bob Knight’s recent record of praising “shot fakes” 388 times in one broadcast. I mean, seriously, those two get stuck on some stuff and it gets as repetitive as a missed Tyshawn Taylor layup or a Morris twin technical.

- There’s an interesting discussion going on about a photo that Rolling Stone cover photo that was photoshopped, and whether that was necessary. It really gets to the heart of a debate about the images and expectations we place on women and how this might effect young girls. It also caused me to stare at Katy Perry’s breasts for 13 minutes straight. (“lift, and down, lift, and down, lift, and down…”)

- Unrelated (hopefully), there seems to be at least one viable option when Stacey gets tired of my junk and kicks me out. Always good to have a plan.

- I may be interpreting this story wrong, but I think it’s really disturbing how far college coaches will go to get a recruit.