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If you can’t see the embedded object below, it’s probably because you don’t have access to Google Wave content since it is still in Beta testing. All I can tell you, is that it’s really cool. If you can get an invite, email me your contact info and I’ll add you to the wave.

A demo of embedding Google Wave code within websites.

I’ve had a long and passionate love affair with the moving image. To this day, I’m a sucker for an engaging television show or an original movie idea. I love getting drawn into a fictional character’s world with the help of a talented actor. My eyes still glaze over in amazement at effective special effects. I still find myself cheering for the good guys to win. These things mean a lot to me. That’s why I was overjoyed to announce an official “movie night” at my house for the first time this week. Little did I know that my love of this media would cause the night to end in disaster.

I blame myself. My formative years were, in no small way, influenced by what I saw and heard on television. Cartoons taught me valuable lessons about the perils of being a bully. Sitcoms showed me that great timing and double-entendres were keys to the comedy kingdom. I learned from TV cops that the bad guys never win. These basic staples of popular culture were every bit as important as the four food groups when I was growing up.

Yet they were all eclipsed by the movies. Going to a theater for a showing of the latest Hollywood offering was a magical event for me. Even though my early experiences with theaters were in the 1980’s when the multiplex was steadily replacing large single-theater venues, I considered every seating a special occasion. My induction into perpetual cinema fandom was ushered in by such classics as “Raiders of the Lost Ark” and “The Empire Strikes Back.” Can you blame me for getting hooked?

When Video Cassette Recorders and cable television first became prominent, it was like someone had opened a portal between two worlds. For the first time, the magic I witnessed in a theater was available to me at home, albeit on a much smaller scale. The television could provide both the daily servings of pop culture that I’d grown accustomed to, and special events like “Ghostbusters.”

My father shared my passion. He would often fall asleep on the couch in front of the television. There was a time when he would have me rent two movies a day from the local video store until there were no more left to watch. We absorbed action, drama, foreign, comedy, even horror films.

So, as home theater technology matured, I followed it closely. My dream was to one day have my own “home theater” where I could recreate some of the childhood magic which now lived on as nostalgia in my memory.

My new home on the Jersey Shore brings me one step closer to realizing that dream. Though my living room isn’t quite a home theater, it serves my purposes; I can watch the television and movies I enjoy in the highest resolution available, with excellent surround sound.

Wanting to share that enjoyment with those around me, I sometimes forget that not everyone is as passionate about the movies as me. I announced that I was setting aside Monday nights for the purpose of screening movies for friends. To me, this was a chance to experience new films and relive the magic of classic ones we all loved. To others, it may have just been a chance to socialize.

I’m aware that moving pictures and sound are, for some people, just a way to fill the silence. They are background noise; an unimportant distraction which deserves only peripheral attention. These are the people who occupy themselves with texting, eating, or talking during a movie. They may see the story unfold before them, and fill in the details through inference, but they miss the magic. They don’t appreciate the details which make movies special.

(Feel free to skip this paragraph if you don’t want to read examples)In the original “Superman” movie, there’s a moment when Clark Kent is about to change into his iconic reds and blues. He pauses for a split second to look at a modern payphone without a phone booth surrounding it, and then speeds off to change elsewhere. His facial expression in that moment is both a joke and homage to the comic book origins of the hero. Yet it will usually be lost on those who don’t really devote all their attention to the movie. These people see Indiana Jones’ grand escape from the Nazis, but miss the little wink before it which tells us that hope is not lost. The subtleness is lost on them, so a truly great movie is “okay” or “pretty good” in their view.

To me, this attitude is tantamount to heresy because I’ve worked in the entertainment industry and know what it is to create something for people’s viewing. You want ever second, every nuance, to be appreciated. This is why theaters are dark; to eliminate every possible distraction. The subtle details in a movie are almost more important than the over-arching narrative. So it drives me nuts when I sit with people who I know are missing the bits and pieces which elevate a film to greatness.

Last night, the groups who attended my first official “movie night” decided to watch a movie from the 80’s which they all know and love; “The Princess Bride.” Their main reason for choosing this film was to share it with one friend who had never seen it before. Unfortunately, they also decided to make friendship bracelets (none for me, btw) while the movie was on. This, in addition to the snacks, drinks, and talking, diverted enough attention from the movie that the person watching it for the first time missed much of the dialog and seemed oblivious to the sight gags. Predictably, she said that she didn’t see what the big deal was, and I agreed. She didn’t see. She couldn’t see. She was busy with other things.

So in my book, I write the experience off as a disaster. Not because someone deems movies less important than I. Not, because they refused to adhere to my admittedly obsessive take on proper movie viewing etiquette. Not even because someone might have different tastes than I. It was a disaster because a wonderful, charming, funny, and well made film has been forever lost to this person. I know that she will never sit through it again, and I feel responsible for that. Our misguided attempt to show off something we enjoyed failed, because the movie never had a chance of making a good first impression under those circumstances.

In the future, maybe it’s best not to show “classics” but instead to focus on new films nobody has seen before. That way, expectations are lower. It might also help to invite people who love movies as much as me, so I don’t feel like the odd man out for my passion on the subject.

There’s a special kind of crazy required to don a costume when it isn’t Halloween. It’s the sort of crazy of which this world needs more. Whether you’re generally a dramatic personality, have a theatrical inclination, or just enjoy acting silly, it takes that extra bit of gumption to take your act public. So when such folks conspire to meet and party together, there’s a certain magic about it.

This past weekend, I attended PirateCon, a gathering of folks who choose to celebrate “International Talk Like a Pirate Day” by dressing as said swashbucklers. We were organized by an unknown party and proceeded to make our party known throughout much of lower Manhattan. If I had to guess, there were something like two hundred participants; Wonderful, creative people who were determined to have fun in the carefree tradition of legendary buccaneers.

I was lucky enough to arrive in time to watch the group grow from a handful of enthusiastic but skittish members, to a mass of energetic pirate party people. Our crew marched from one location to the next, amusing tourists and New Yorkers alike with our blatant disregard for the mundane. We cheered and sang and chanted along the way. Pirate colors brightened the bustling crowds at The High Line, Washington Square Park, and the South Street Seaport.

Everyone was friendly and kind to each other, though most were meeting for the first time. As an example, someone found my digital camera and returned it to me after seeing my photos on it. We pirates shared drinks, stories, snacks, and laughs together.

My best friend and I had arrived by boat in true pirate fashion, and left the same way. In between those two boat trips, we got to participate in a truly amazing event. Not for its turnout, or the amount of alcohol consumed; It was amazing for what it represents in us, as people.

As silly as it may be for grown people to pretend they are pirates. It’s even sillier for us to forget about such things as dressing up, pretending, and keeping our minds open to imaginative play. The British, who tend to use the English language more elegantly than we Americans, don’t call what we were wearing “costumes.” In England, people attend “fancy dress” parties. This doesn’t imply that the behavior is strange or abnormal, but simply that a bit more care has gone into deciding what will be worn. The extraordinary clothing allows us to more freely behave in a way that may be outside of our everyday persona.

It amused me when bystanders on the street asked, “Why are you dressed that way?” The implication behind that question was that there must be a good explanation for why a large group of people have decided to shun conventional attire and take to the streets as a band of pirates. The natural reply of course, was to ask them why they were dressed as they had been. In my perfect world explanations for such things would never be needed. When in doubt, everyone should just assume that the answer to such questions would be, “Because we can, and it’s fun.”

This past week, “The Beatles: Rock Band” was released to the public. Though there have been a number of discs released as “track packs” for the popular music gaming franchise, this latest offering is considered a true sequel. It offers updated graphics, new gameplay elements, and a collection of new plastic instrument controllers. More importantly though, it hopes to introduce a legendary band to a whole new audience, while also cashing in on the fond memories of those who know the Beatles work.

What follows is my review of this latest video game. I will be up front about the fact that I have not played the game extensively. So I can’t judge the subtle differences it may have on different consoles. I also haven’t experienced every single song in the game. So it’s entirely possible that I may have missed some stroke of brilliance that adds value to the overall package.

Video games are typically judged on graphics, sound, and gameplay when someone writes a review. The over-all presentation and replay value also factor in. Rarely does nostalgia or the significance of the licensed material in a game, play any role in determining how good or bad it is. For instance, Warner Brothers cartoon characters are some of the most beloved and iconic images to ever grace any gaming console, yet often games which feature them get terrible reviews because they are found lacking in all of the above-mentioned categories. So for the purpose of this review, let’s forget for a minute that I’m writing about “The Beatles.”

Let’s start with the graphics; they are absolutely beautiful. There’s a noticeable improvement over Rock Band 2’s character models, which is understandable. Since the option to play with customized characters has been removed, much more polish can be applied to the models of John, Paul, George, and Ringo. The game’s presentation is very solid. Everything has sort of an ethereal retro feel to it. Each song has its own custom video. Compared to previous games, which allowed you to play with customized band members in a wide variety of venues, it’s a significant change.

Not surprisingly, The Beatles: Rock Band sounds fantastic. During loading screens, you can hear studio chatter from the Fab Four that was previously unreleased. It should be obvious that the song collection sounds great. What isn’t as obvious is that some of the Beatles best songs are decidedly absent from this disc. Future downloadable pay content is scheduled to fill in some of the gaps though. Another thing that’s missing from this game is the ability to actually improvise on your instrument. No more freestyle drum hits at the beginning or end of songs. No more improvisation on the mic during breaks in the lyrics. Say goodbye as well, to drum fills or “big finish” segments where the whole band jams out. All you will hear from your speakers is The Beatles; nothing more, nothing less.

In every other respect, the gameplay is pretty much the same. This version of Rock Band introduces a new feature which allows up to three singers to harmonize on certain tracks. This opens up the possibility of either playing with six players or giving two of the members of your band back-up singer duties in addition to their respective instrument parts. This can be pretty fun since most of the music is fairly simplistic and a lot of the lyrics will be familiar to fans of the group.

There are a total of 45 songs to play on the disc. Compared to 58 songs in the original Rock Band and 84 songs in Rock Band 2, this is a step down. However, the quality of the music is arguably more important than having a large quantity of it. Still, replay value is going to be a problem for this game. There are only so many times you’ll want to watch the same video over and over when playing your favorite Beatles tracks. You won’t have the incentive of unlocking items or earning money to buy your characters new outfits. You won’t be able to customize the look of your band members or equipment either. You can’t add your own personal touch to the music, the performance, the band’s name or look. All you can do is tap the buttons on the controllers along with the music on the screen.

For me, that’s where the game fails. Previous Rock Band games gave you the sense that you were actually a musician who was creating music. In The Beatles: Rock Band, you just feel like you’re keying in commands which will keep the real musicians playing on your screen. It’s a subtle difference, but an important one. Self-expression is after all, the goal of any aspiring musician. The game doesn’t cater to that though. Instead it asks you to be a fan and do your part to support the band.

So to summarize: The Beatles: Rock Band is like Rock Band 2, except without the custom avatars, the improvisation, the unlockable incentives, the diversity of venues, the replay value, or the huge variety in musical styles and artists we have come to associate with this franchise. It has better graphics and sound, a new harmonizing game element, and Beatles music. It’s a sequel that offers less of what makes Rock Band great, but with plenty of Beatles greatness to make up for it. If that balances out as something you may be interested, then enjoy. I’m going to pass.

Going to a movie directed by Quentin Tarantino without expecting to see violence is like going to a George Romero movie and not expecting to see dead things. So I was well aware that there would be blood, the night I went to see “Inglourious Basterds” at a local theater. What I didn’t expect though, was to experience such a refreshing take on a subject as heavily mined for drama as World War 2. The next few paragraphs will continue my impressions of this movie without giving away the actual content of the film: spoiler free for your amusement.

The scope of World War 2 is enormous. The number of lives lost, the families affected, and the countries entangled in the battles brought about by Adolf Hitler’s quest for power, are hard to comprehend. So more often than not, we see large scale battles; hundreds of soldiers and military machines clashing with each other on the screen, in a futile attempt to convey the grand scope of it all. Tarantino’s movie takes a different tack. It shows Nazi Germany as a very personal and intimate thing. Every interaction between two human beings has depth and meaning, regardless of whether that interaction is a conversation or a baseball bat across the forehead.

The fear and hatred is brilliantly put on display in every facial expression, off-hand gesture, and pregnant pause during conversations. As both a writer and director, you’d have to have enormous faith in your actors to even attempt to put something like this up on a screen. Fortunately, I think the actors did a brilliant job. Many of them will be unknown to the viewer, but even the ones whose reputation precedes them, are convincing and likeable.

The violence too, is intimate in “Inglourious Bastards.”The audience is meant to participate in the visceral revulsion and excitement of every gunshot, knife slice, and blunt force trauma. Whether you agree with the methods or not, you will be front and center for them at every step of the film. Part of the reason for that might be so that we can appreciate the scale. The horror of a single soldier’s throat being cut is immense. When it hits you that he is but one of millions who died during that time, it’s hard not to take pause.

Of course I understand the basic gist of the film. It is, at its heart a Jewish revenge fantasy. And why the hell not? Video games taking place in WWII are over-saturating the shooter market because everyone can feel good about killing Nazis. You’d think, if the stereotype about Jews running Hollywood were true, we’d see more of these types of films in the theaters. But Tarantino is the only one seemingly brave enough to embrace the murky depths of such an undertaking. Hero stories often try to depict American soldiers as being morally superior to the enemy. Not so, here.

The Jewish Americans take great delight in slaughtering Nazis throughout the film. They demonstrate that the moral high road is not always the best path to victory. I’m not ashamed to say that I laughed and cheered as their brutal efforts unfolded before me. It was tremendously satisfying to see some suffering inflicted upon the group responsible for taking so many innocent lives.

It should be mentioned though, that “Inglourious Basterds” is not an action movie. It is, like every other Tarantino flick, a drama. It is exciting and intense at times. It’s emotional, deep, funny, and charming. Potential viewers should also know that, since this film is set in Germany, there is a lot of foreign dialogue. If subtitles are a deal-breaker for you, then this is not a film you want to see.

Personally, I’m looking forward to seeing it again. I’m sure there’s a bunch of subtle stuff I’ve missed the first time around. This movie isn’t as quotable as other Tarantino classics like “Pulp Fiction” but it’s brilliant all the same. The music is both fitting to the style of the film, and true to the director’s own quirky style.

I have a few nitpicks of the over-all story and editing choices made, but it’s tough to find something to hate in this movie. That is of course, unless you are a Nazi-sympathizing bastard.

The universe strives to maintain balance. We humans do too. It’s one of those things that you don’t necessarily need to believe in. It just is. Sometimes, we push boundaries and try to stretch our capabilities. This may result in a loss of balance which can be slight or incredibly jarring. It can also help to improve our balancing skills, which is why we do it.

As a kid, I realized I was really talented at keeping myself balanced…at least physically. (I attributed my proficiency to my large feet.) My friends and I would play games which involved balance. I can remember crossing fallen trees which bridged the gap carved by a river through local woods. I was only about nine years old at the time. Later, in Junior high school, we chased each other on elevated wooden fences which surrounded a sandbox. We tried to push each other off without falling off ourselves. In my late teens, we would go to a playground well after dark and master jumping between the highest point of the jungle gyms, knowing a slip would likely result in broken bones.

These days, I’m not nearly as interested in risking injury, yet I’m still drawn to activities which require balance. I’ve been riding skateboards since my pre-teen years. One of my first was a simple piece of wood sanded down in my father’s garage and attached to roller skate wheels. He was proud of the stuff he built for me and I didn’t appreciate any of it nearly as much as I should have at the time. Still, I did a lot of skateboarding.

I’ve rolled around on various boards for the better part of the last thirty years. Yet I was never really big on skateboarding tricks. I learned a few simple techniques for moving and balancing on a board from a book I got in my school library. That was all I needed at the time.

Since then, skateboard enthusiasts have learned how to jump, spin, and fly on their boards. Communities are building skate parks for their residents and the culture has largely been embraced by the mainstream thanks to iconic figures like Tony Hawk. Meanwhile, I’m still rolling around from point A to B without much fanfare.

Lately, since I live in a skateboarder friendly community, I’ve decided to up my game and learn some new tricks. I know what they say about “old dogs” and thank my lucky stars that I am not a dog. So I’ve been regularly visiting the skate parks with my “old school” board in hand. I try to keep up with the young kids and stretch my boundaries; to improve my balance.

The net result so far has been largely positive. Sure, I’ve sustained some scrapes and bruises, but I’ve also improved. I’ve felt the exhilaration of rolling down ramps and around bowls. I’ve achieved frightening milestones like dropping into a half-pipe. My craving for outdoor activity and exercise has also improved. As I approach my 40’s, I feel that I am accomplishing things I was remiss in not achieving sooner. I’m catching up and checking off that “to do” list of activities I’ve always wanted to try.

In fact, my life over the last year in Jersey has been defined by firsts and milestones. I’ve explored new places, tried new things, boldly undertaken new projects, and tasted new thrills. All this has made me tremendously happy and fulfilled. Every day, there’s at least one moment in which I reflect on how well things are going and smile.

So it’s no wonder that the universal balance tries to swing me in the negative direction from time to time. I expect and understand it, but that doesn’t make it any easier to get past.

Over the last two months, the car I drive has been involved in not one, but THREE traffic accidents. None of these were our fault. The first one happened when my wife was side-swiped by a van which didn’t see her in his blind spot while exiting a toll plaza. The second was when an anxious woman with a brand new car miscalculated her trajectory and clipped my rear fender while exiting her parking space behind me. The third time happened just hours ago. A man who didn’t see me coming down the street rolled through a stop sign and drove out in front of me. Even after stomping on the breaks, I managed to make contact with his rear quarter panel. It was just enough to rip off my front license plate and scratch up my front bumper.

I feel like these small annoyances are not some sort of Karmic payback for doing something bad. Since they are so relatively minor, they seem more like the price of extreme happiness. It’s like I’m being reminded that there is some not-so-good stuff that comes along with the good, and that one without the other will never sustain balance.

My optimism is not swayed. I continue to enjoy my life knowing that it is finite. I remain determined to do all those things I’ve always wanted to. I look eagerly for new opportunities and experiences. I anticipate exciting adventures ahead as I continue to try and improve my balance.

As I sit here composing this blog on my iPhone, I can’t help but think how aggravated I must be. After all, I have a strong dislike of the virtual keyboard and its many inherent typos which is as strong as morning breath after a late night sushi binge. What gets me so worked up? Well, I dislike being talked down to. It triggers all the aggression pent up in my youth when teachers and students alike assumed my inferiority simply because I was a foreigner. I worked hard and often to show them just how wrong they were. Despite a language barrier, math and English were my best subjects; consistently better in fact, when compared with American born students.

So it’s no wonder that I prefer to this day, to express myself with the written word. It also explains my predilection to technology which has math as its basis.

Imagine my surprise when I was told today to absolutely never express my opinions or dissatisfaction in text form again. I was call childish, passive/aggressive and wasteful of time, simply because I sent a quick email explaining that i didn’t think something was handled properly. It was disheartening to say the least.

The proclamation came from a coworker with whom I considered myself to be in a partnership. We share a casual friendship, common interests, and a nice rapport. The problem comes when we differ in our approach to business. He seems to believe that delegating tasks to those who aren’t sure of how to perform them is a good way of teaching them. I don’t necessarily disagree, but my view is that the quickest possible resolution of a client’s issue should be the primary concern. Teaching should come secondary. Because if this slight difference in philosophy, I’ve encountered frustration a number of times while trying to take care of unforeseen problems. I call for help, but instead of getting it, I’m sent to various Internet resources to figure it out. Meanwhile, the client sits in limbo waiting to get the issue resolved while I’m “learning” how it should be handled.

At the end of the day, I go home frustrated knowing that the client’s issue hasn’t been resolved. Someone who gets a large chunk of my hourly rate hasn’t necessarily helped me get any closer to the resolution. Meanwhile, any delay in fixing an issue is perceived as my own personal failure and not the fault of a group.

I understand the limitations of text based communications all too well. I also appreciate the constraints of professional approaches to problem solving and time management. What I don’t get is the hostility with which my email was met. It seems that a shouting phone call to me which stopped just short of threatening me is okay. Yet a couple of sentences saying “no fair” from me are somehow crossing the line?

It occurs to me that the only rational reason for a person not wanting emailed correspondence during times of disagreement is to cover their own ass by not leaving a written record of possible problems. That may be another point where we disagree because my own business has documented everything discussed between two parties so as to dispel any possibility for miscommunication. I like written records. They make the world feel more organized.

How someone can misconstrue this as an affront, I have no idea. What I do know, is that I provide excellent service to my clients. I try to make them happy no matter how silly their requests may be. I also try to work out any possible problems so that they may have a great experience using technology. If I’m guilty of anything, it’s caring too much about my work. I take it personally and as a result may come out swinging when my efforts are belittled by people who haven’t seen the full scope of what I provide.

So now that some hours have passed on the clock and some drinks have passed my esophagus, I’m over the resentment and hostility. I know tomorrow will be another day to shine and improve upon what I’ve already accomplished. The best I can do is hope that the effort isn’t without recognition. I also hold out for the day when “team work” and “partnership” are words used to describe the folks involved with my projects. That they aren’t just empty gestures but actual guiding principles of the people with whom I associate.

It should be noted, that this post has been made quite vague with the specific intent of hiding the identities of anyone involved. If you think you know who I am talking about, then there’s a high probability that you are wrong. As an independent contractor and small business owner, I partner with many different people on a regular basis. So I’m venting here, but not about anyone specifically. So take that into consideration when reading this.

Thanks for your attention…

For the last few days I’ve been ruminating on the death of Michael Jackson. I’m not optimistic enough to believe that there’s a lesson to be learned from everything life throws at us. I also don’t usually consider the deaths of celebrities to be a big deal. However, the media hype has me thinking that there’s something here. It isn’t what the press is telling you, but it’s definitely something.

The media are calling the death of Michael Jackson a great loss for the entertainment industry. The truth is Jackson hasn’t been relevant for well over a decade. If not for his bizarre behavior, money troubles, and run-ins with the law, Michael would be a fading memory; a curious museum piece which recalls the glory of the 1980’s.

On the one hand, it makes me sad to know that the guy who would entertain me by singing and dancing on the TV screen, has died. I still enjoy the music he made in the 80’s. Like Patrick Swayze, Jackson is a sort of avatar representing my youth. Thinking about him withering and dying is depressing.

On the other hand, now that he’s dead, I sort of wish he had died at the height of his fame, around the time that “Black or White” came out. Had he burned out fast and left us before having a chance to mess up his legacy with awkward marriages, child molestation allegations, baby dangling, and countless plastic surgeries, I feel like I would have missed him more.

It’s true that Michael Jackson has brought joy to millions. His music, videos, and performances, have entertained the masses and infused popular culture with his own brand of style and excitement. To call him a musical prodigy is not an exaggeration. From a very early age, it was clear that he was born to entertain. I’m grateful for his contribution to my musical repertoire.

The question is; How much do his achievements in entertainment offset anything we might hold against him? I don’t really have an answer. I know there are many who overlook Jackson’s personal life. They say he was never convicted of anything, and that’s true. He did settle out of court for tens of millions of dollars with more than one family of accusers though. To me, that’s almost an admission of guilt. If you look at his music, he’s trying to warn people. He says, “I’m Bad” and “Dangerous” and called himself a “Smooth Criminal.” So it doesn’t really matter how many songs he sang or how well he danced. If he sexually abused children, there is no redemption or forgiveness for him in my eyes.

Many have talked about how the Jackson family as a whole may be responsible for how Michael turned out; That Joe Jackson’s abusive parenting and Michael’s lack of a real childhood predestined an entertaining person for horrible private behavior. If that’s true, then it also says something very disturbing: We may never see another entertainer like Michael Jackson because society today wouldn’t tolerate such abusive parents.

Even sadder; Michael Jackson is probably the most famous abused child in the history of children. He grew up knowing that his father’s verbal and physical abuses were accepted by the masses. It was treated like a necessary evil which produced greatness. So people looked the other way. Those around the Jackson family allowed the abuse. Perhaps in some twisted way Michael thought that he was helping the children he abused in much the same way as his father helped him to become a world famous entertainer? We will never know his reasons for making the choices he did.

All we know for a fact is that Michael Jackson was the king of pop. He was responsible for some of the most memorable songs and videos of the last century. He broke boundaries and created cultural ripples which were felt all around the world. We know he entertained us. He made us laugh and cry. Michael was damaged yet brilliant. He will be missed by many. These things are fact, everything else is just speculation.

Fair warning for those reading this review: It’s entirely plausible that I am outside the target demographic for Transformers 2. So my perception of the movie may be tainted by my age. That said, I feel as if my eyeballs and frontal lobe have been assaulted over the two and a half hours I spent with Michael Bay’s robot rumble. Like any victim of violence, I feel the need to speak out about it. So I’m writing this review at almost two in the morning. As always, I’ll avoid spoilers, so if you haven’t yet seen it and are on the fence, please consider my opinion.

Imagine an incredibly hyper child constructing a very intricate scale model of the Eiffel Tower out of Legos and Christmas lights. Then, in his excitement to show you his work, the child launches it at your head. The unexpected impact of plastic against your face stuns you, but you are conscious enough to watch the project hit the floor in a dazzling rattle of blocks and lights. The toy explosion as each piece detaches from its neighbor, is magnificent. If you can imagine this scene, you have some idea of what watching “Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen” is like.

I can only assume that the technical achievements accomplished within this film are amazing because they flew across the screen so fast that I could scarcely make them out. Most set pieces featured twisted metal crudely shaped into destructive creatures which tear through buildings, rocks, vehicles, people, famous landmarks, and each other, without so much as a second thought. The resulting debris, smoke, dust, shrapnel and carnage obscure the scene as much as a New Year’s Eve dropping of the balloons and confetti at midnight. This battering of visual stimuli is accompanied by constant yelling, thunderous explosions and screeching dissonance of both the electronic and mechanical variety. If you’d like to simulate the experience at home, put your ear up to a tumble dryer while your favorite pair of jeans and sneakers are rolling around in it. Then toss glitter at your eyes as you blink frantically to keep any from actually sticking to your cornea.

In essence, director Michael Bay has created a live-action cartoon about two factions of sentient robots who fight each other due to differing ideologies with humans caught in the middle. It’s a lot more of the same stuff which made the first movie what it was. I call it a cartoon because most of the human characters are caricatures, every bit as exaggerated as the robots they fight with and against. They all speak in tired clichés and act exactly as a jaded audience would expect them to, given that they came from Hollywood. The action scenes are separated by bits of drama that feels forced. The comedy amounts to some dirty innuendo and a peppering of profanity designed to elicit a cheap chuckle. Thousands of anonymous extras die each time two big robots disagree, but we the viewers are supposed to care about the lives of a college kid and his hot girlfriend, knowing full well that there’s no way the director would kill them off.

I understand that this is all supposed to be a fun summer ride. I more than many, can appreciate a good roller coaster, with its abundance of sensory overload. However, TF2 isn’t that kind of ride. It lasts way too long to be a roller coaster. In fact, if you want to compare it to a ride, you could call it one of those crazy rides you get when someone is trying to impress you by driving recklessly. You don’t so much appreciate the skill of the person in control, as hope for nothing to go wrong while you wait for it to end.

The movie is rated PG-13. It contains lots of people dying though very little blood. There are sexual images and physical violence a-plenty, on top of the harsh language. I don’t recommend this movie to anyone, much less children. If you must see it, wait for the High-Definition release on home video so you can rewind and fast forward the parts to get a better look at which metal thing did what to whom.

After lots of research and some soul searching, I’m ready to plunge into the tepid pool that is the Apple products userbase. Below is my explanation (or rationalization) for why I’ve waited so long and what has brought me to the conclusion that now is the right time.

Let me be blunt: I don’t like Apple as a company. I’ve been at least aware of them since they released their first Macintosh computers decades ago. As I became more tech-savvy and got to use them, I realized that Macs were an example of everything that was wrong with consumer electronics. Here were these little boxes that promised an alternative way of doing things; a different look and feel. They offered less functionality, proprietary hardware, and a distinct lack of compatibility with third parties, wrapped in a pretty package. You paid more money for less power, but got to feel like you were part of an exclusive club of “alternative thinkers.” It was all the epitome of “form over function” and I hated it. (continue reading…)