tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79502062011-07-08T08:18:38.601-06:00by a Zoological RefugeeM. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.comBlogger1661100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-8580210174200796062010-03-21T00:01:00.004-06:002010-03-21T00:01:00.806-06:00

Yes. There was a gun in my pocket, and I am happy to see you. - "Both, actually"

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-41220254173869444162010-03-20T00:01:00.002-06:002010-03-19T14:36:17.222-06:00

The job just doesn't seem worth it anymore, Hal. Jimmy took one in the lung today. He's got five kids. Three wives. I don't know how I'm gonna break it to his fiancée. - "Mormon Vice"

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-3494824376910526522010-03-16T14:13:00.000-06:002010-03-16T14:14:12.251-06:00

They're everywhere this morningThe numbers seem absurdSo many bodies lying thereLittered is the wordIn the dark and early lightTheir flesh darkened as it driedWriggling, struggling, strivingThey tried to live but died'Twas a great calamityThe flood that did descendSo many simple innocentsThe angels did attendClear and wet and sinisterThe raindrops downward rodeConspiring, connecting, and

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-57893540624226984472010-01-18T10:49:00.001-06:002010-01-18T10:50:50.491-06:00

Sand and rocks andBuildings colored dunDust floats and it's allBlown out by the sunJohnny Walker up frontReady riding pointHis hand shakes on the rifleHis lips yearn for a jointHis mind isn't hereIt’s back in LAHis eyes aren't onWhat the rest of us seeHe's looking at JennyFrom toe to topHe sees her keep dancingWhen the music's stoppedJohnny Walker, he's the ReadyHe drinks Scotch and ryeHymn Book

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-11112705096110840622010-01-17T20:36:00.000-06:002010-01-17T20:37:24.448-06:00

'Dermatologist tested'Is what a companyPut on the packageOf its goop for acneMolly was shoppingAnd here's what she read:'Skin science dudesProve it kills blackheads'Had she followed the asteriskShe would have knownJust what was meantBy the words shown'We sent samples to doctorsWhom we never heard back fromWe chose not to say soOn advice from our ad firm'She bought it and took itRight home with

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-63031244688532922012010-01-16T14:22:00.001-06:002010-01-16T14:22:53.936-06:00

Key in the ignitionI give it a turnThere's a job to do andI've a paycheck to earnThe rig on the car's roofIs brightly aglowWith blue and with redAs I drive into the snowA detour aheadThis makes me angryThe forces of darknessWant to halt the deliveryNothing will stop meI mustn't be lateThere's joy on the lineIt's goodness at stakeThe GPS saysTo take the loop aroundBut I'll shave off minutesBy

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-15943529111559124222010-01-15T11:26:00.000-06:002010-01-15T11:27:10.663-06:00

Dead man walkingThat's what some call guys like meTrudging the long corridorFace lined with defeatThe bleak gray-painted wallsThe sick chemical smellMy stomach is queasyMy heart feels unwellI sit in the anteroomWith a guard in light blueBehind the wall there's a chairWhere it happens to youI can hear the whirring soundsThey're testing it nowOn some other poor patientWho whimpers aloudAnd I hear

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-38959629613256033432010-01-14T09:36:00.000-06:002010-01-14T09:37:57.974-06:00

At a basketball gameThe sport that I loveA guy smiles at meFrom way up aboveHey, Shorty, he says,That must be your nameYou'll have to stand on my shouldersIf you wanna see the gameI hate him alreadyI'm not short as he allegedWould it kill him to admitI'm just vertically challenged?Are you having a good day?I know he's trying to irkHow's the weather down there?He asks with a smirkI want to spit in

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-36386717173247278402010-01-12T00:23:00.000-06:002010-01-12T00:24:08.949-06:00

Honey, I'm homeIt's been a pretty rough dayI just want to restAnd drink it all awaySorry my feet smellBut I gotta take these offBeen sitting at workSweating into my socksI'm not into dinnerI can't really eat nowMy stomach's still churningIt's no time to chowMy job kind of does thatIt's worse than any other thingAt least when I washed carsI'd come home feeling cleanI finished off the Jameson?How '

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-22193903100724343022010-01-11T09:54:00.001-06:002010-01-11T09:56:43.526-06:00

My cell phone's all wetIt won't give me any peaceIt cries out in the nightIt could break any leaseMy cell phone's adeptAt waiting just the right timeTo let loose againWith that noise that's a crimeCan I help it that IAm a klutz and a goofThe charger ran offDisappeared with a poofNow my phone don't have longLeft for this earthIt's gonna run outElectrons are its curseI know I could holdThe little

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-85908312054807929752009-01-14T11:08:00.002-06:002009-01-14T11:18:09.231-06:00

Actual text messages regarding a student's second look at academic suspension in a small private liberal arts university, sent 13 days before final exams in the fall semester.From: So yeah, i have to magically pull 2 a's and 2b's out of my ass to even HOPE to stay now...To: Shoulda started workin' on that ass pullin' long ago. Nothing magical about it.Having now lost his appeal for probation,

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-74441922979924518372009-01-06T14:22:00.002-06:002009-01-06T14:26:44.181-06:00

I hate having to say the expected thing.The Two Jakes is an unworthy sequel to Chinatown and a poor imitation of Raymond Chandler.I said the expected thing. It also happens to be true.Dissing sequels is a common film-buff pastime, but I was genuinely looking forward to seeing Jakes, especially because it was written by Robert Towne, the author of Chinatown and The Yakuza, both released in 1974.

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-64737504326834366832008-08-30T11:32:00.004-06:002008-08-30T15:16:46.120-06:00

If you're a Texan, you'll get this. Unless you're one of the joke's butts.Same goes for a few southwesterners (it was printed in Arizona), Montanans and Wyomingites.--Bill Mauldin, "Arizona Highways" Jan. 1941More Mauldin here.

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-72312982316890857612008-07-26T20:46:00.002-06:002008-07-26T20:56:44.823-06:00

As editor of a weekly newspaper, I receive a great deal of email every day. Some of it is from advertisers. But most of it is from a) people who have been referred by public relations firms or b) public relations firms themselves.Sometimes, I get something too good not to share. When I first read the below, it was difficult to grasp just what was going on. Or, rather, it was easy to grasp what

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-29173216054805174272008-07-12T23:10:00.000-06:002008-07-17T16:12:34.425-06:00

Appalling, isn’t it? Today, I drove over thirty miles to the parking lot outside an establishment known colloquially as “the mall.” With the direct and sole intent of entering said establishment.“How?!” you cry in agonized astonishment.It gets worse.I entered a department store. I entered five department stores. And I looked at clothes.This breach of conduct had a very specific reason, even merit

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-66227481926099691562008-06-14T23:00:00.001-06:002008-06-14T23:00:03.213-06:00

Tonight I have discovered my calling. From this day forward, my sole purpose is to seek out and destroy every copy of the film known as “The Notebook.”One copy of the script shall be kept under guard in the Smithsonian that it may serve as a warning to future generations.SPOILER BELOWThe ending was decent, though. I think it was clear that both characters had to die. Before wiping this film from

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-22243741972037258692008-05-26T10:25:00.000-06:002008-05-26T10:33:38.272-06:00

Some artwork Wilson sent me yesterday.

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-73082473159099724952008-01-04T23:55:00.000-06:002008-01-05T00:13:47.920-06:00

You're The Things They Carried!by Tim O'BrienHarsh and bitter, you tell it like it is. This usually comes in short,dramatic spurts of spilling your guts in various ways. You carry a heavy load, and thishas weighed you down with all the horrors that humanity has to offer. Having seen anddone a great deal that you aren't proud of, you have no choice but to walk forward,trudging slowly through

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-77958337524335417742007-12-24T05:15:00.000-06:002007-12-27T12:07:21.163-06:00

So, this Christmas thing. Is it getting a little… boring? Seriously, I bet some of you are just grousing about how big the credit card bill is after trying to keep the kiddies in all the coolest toys this season. And you might even still be trying to figure out how to fit Christmas vacation into your packed work schedule. Yes, for some Christmas is becoming nothing more than an

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-25979289924960573502007-12-19T11:55:00.000-06:002007-12-28T13:24:19.129-06:00

Fifteen years ago, the height of the Nerf arsenal was called the Missilestorm. It held four foam arrows on flimsy launching rods and cost parents a whopping 20 USD. The arrows were too large to be aerodynamic, and the firing mechanism—a rear handle that was drawn out of the weapon to be rammed back in and thus force air out behind the arrow—destroyed accuracy. Smaller kids couldn’t even get good

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-46263937340466575532007-08-22T17:20:00.000-06:002007-12-28T13:45:57.633-06:00

Capture the Flag. It's an enticing idea. Unfortunately, it is often played over such a small field as to be impractical and essentially random. Tactics become severely limited. Recently, however, I was given the opportunity to play the game with a couple hundred people over an entire university campus as part of the school's orientation program. It was very nice. A diagonal line split the

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-47668791313804046182007-08-04T14:05:00.000-06:002007-08-10T20:15:39.317-06:00

Jason Bourne is today's action hero. And, unlike most of his ilk, his story arc is actually worthwhile, his films more than strobe lights and punch lines to which popcorn is eaten. Which is why I am so disappointed. Backtracking, let me say that I am one of those individual's who is always looking for the "original." The movie is never better than the book. An ever-so-rare exception to that rule

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-902126703984335282007-07-06T12:00:00.000-06:002007-07-06T11:01:31.253-06:00

Alex Kerner is dating a Russian. They met while protesting the wall and the repression of East German press. It is now 1990, the wall has fallen, and Alex is acting... strange. He refuses to wear modern clothing in place of the shoddy combine-made garb available under the old regime, the apartment he shares with his mother and sister is constantly overrun with those

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-44053096500269671592007-06-30T15:24:00.001-06:002007-07-17T16:27:44.373-06:00

Last year I was greatly disappointed by the release of Cars. The cautionary nature of its hideous advertising campaign notwithstanding, I entered the theater prepared for a film in true Pixar tradition only to find... a superbly animated lack of decent story.But this year things would be different! Right? I tried to cling to that belief. The advertising was more than enough to raise hopes. But

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-41967408649316989602007-05-15T19:42:00.001-06:002007-05-15T20:35:35.079-06:00

A few facts have been vaguely altered and a few others simply left vague in order to protect the innocent and the guilty (and just generally keep names out of the paper), but the below story is most definitely true. I've just lived it. If you don't believe me... tough! On the eleventh, Friday, I received an email from my friend Marie announcing a "Greatest Mom" contest from a local promotional

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-64463831131568207792007-05-13T20:50:00.000-06:002007-05-13T21:07:41.437-06:00

"Mortimer, could I ask you a question?" Standard stuff, except that she looked so genuinely frightened. And a frightened teenage girl is never a good sign in this town. "O.K," I replied. "Could you help me with something?" "Tell me about it." She did. "I'll see what I can do," is all I said. At first I was a bit annoyed that she'd given me such a scare. Later that day, however, I could see it

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-20150627393715775862007-05-02T22:10:00.000-06:002007-05-02T21:18:55.956-06:00

I'd been told about it. I'm not sure I believed it. But today, today I am no longer the ignorant child I was. For today I have seen. Seen, I tell you!Yes, I have now witnessed the Star Wars Holiday Special!! I may wear an "I survived the SWHS" t-shirt for Life Day this year.O.K, so maybe seeing Itchy and Lumpy filled with cheer at the sight of Chewbacca and Han isn't quite the same as seeing

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-75382225864108720122007-04-16T03:22:00.000-06:002007-04-18T14:11:44.267-06:00

"...for as long as there have been cars there has been [dramatic pause] The Race." Meaning the illegal cross-country roadtrip run every year by those whose families have been kidnapped and sponsored by powerful, evil persons unknown. Presumably the narrator is alluding to The Race's beginnings in 1903 when Horatio Nelson Jackson was blackmailed* into driving across the continent. Yes, I watched

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-5096137193223893992007-04-11T22:19:00.000-06:002007-04-16T21:21:40.232-06:00

I haven't seen it in years, but remember it. A Hollywood producer has stumbled across the hamlet of Mayberry and wants it to star in his moving picture, "Picnic Meets Our Town." He leaves to show the camera crews the way, and the whole town goes crazy. Floyd will only cut hair to look like a silver screen heartthrob's, Mayor Pike wants to cut down the "eyesore" tree in the square, and Deputy Fife

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-40476846218334790852007-04-08T07:20:00.000-06:002007-04-18T15:01:02.256-06:00

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-9655749606686572722007-03-20T20:05:00.000-06:002007-04-18T14:59:33.573-06:00

Just in from that mysterious correspondent known only as TheLoneOperative: "What, is it a stomach virus?" {speaker at other end of connection} "He threw up?" {...} "In the doctor's office?" {...} "Alll-right!!!"

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-77217072809963095932007-03-19T22:26:00.002-06:002008-03-25T22:20:48.742-06:00

Most borderline film buffs are familiar with John Ford's accidental cavalry trilogy--Fort Apache [1948], She Wore a Yellow Ribbon [1949], and Rio Grande [1950], all based on short stories by James Warner Bellah--as well they should be. But far fewer are aware of Ford's three later cavalry epics. The Horse Soldiers [1959] starring John Wayne, William Holden, and Constance Towers, might be the

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-55927345636038174602007-02-28T06:00:00.000-06:002007-02-27T10:19:32.792-06:00

Nicholas Meyer has a strong imagination. He, quite frankly, is everything that is right about the Star Trek films. (Yes, I said it.) More importantly, let’s not forget the humor of his Company Business [1991] and the comprehensiveness with which he penned perhaps the only Sherlock Holmes pastiche to bob above a sea of impersonations.One of my goals, if one to which I have failed to devote too

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-72218800058695505382007-02-14T08:25:00.000-06:002007-04-14T19:37:51.489-06:00

I’ll admit it: I had given up on chick flicks. Let’s be honest, now, just how many good romantic comedies have been made? I said honest!As an over generalization, no one is honest about these films. Chicks tend to give all such flicks a free pass (thus dubbing the films), and guys tend to have made up their collective mind even as the title is told to them. Shameless. Let’s have none of that,

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-91735894647096463752006-12-07T17:12:00.000-06:002006-12-07T17:16:31.051-06:00

It is 2:25 in the afternoon and the radio is tuned in to the big ball game. It‘s being broadcast by 710 AM WOR and aired over Mutual, the network of confederated radio stations created by the Lone Ranger.The Brooklyn Dodgers are at the New York Giants today.It’s still going! He’s up to the 25… And it hits hard on the 27-yard line! Bruiser Kinard made the pass—Ward Cuff has returned the Dodgers

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-50879534700712983572006-11-22T21:00:00.000-06:002006-11-23T09:09:26.024-06:00

Some of us call the fourth Thursday in November “Thanksgiving (Day)” and consider it a day set aside for the pious duty of, well, thanks-giving. O.K, then.Others, however, condense the day’s meaning to the simpler truths of football, gigantic balloons floating above has-been vocalists, and a slain bird. “Turkey Day.” Not an official holiday, but whatever.For purists intent on the meaning of the

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-3618025054280748462006-11-13T22:47:00.000-06:002006-11-23T09:18:54.429-06:00

I have just watched the 1994 film Stargate starring Kurt Russell and James Spader. It was lent by a friend who recommended it as something akin to camp... He may have mentioned something about Indiana Jones films being history texts beside it.Let me just say that James Spader is the one good thing about the movie. (Well, O.K, his off-world expatriate bride is kinda cute, if that qualifies as a

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-20201989933925432212006-11-06T21:35:00.000-06:002006-11-13T12:15:03.093-06:00

It seems to be well-known fact around work that if one wishes to discuss how to harvest wasted energy from toilets, fabricate alien alloys, profit monetarily from planetary rotation, use crop rotation and a little Korean culinary acumen to remove soylent green’s unhealthful by-products, turn the sky into a plasmatic nightlight, convert an electric lawnmower into a hovercraft, use a surplus

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-16801900281899570472006-10-20T22:10:00.000-06:002006-10-20T22:30:57.293-06:00

The following article was written for print two years ago. Due to the irregular distribution of the film involved the piece never made it into syndication, and so appears here. The format is a bit atypical due to the constraints of its intended venue, but I’ll let that slide as a review of this particular film on this particular site has been far too long coming.Oh, and please note the care with

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-29630459422679063882006-10-13T16:50:00.000-06:002007-02-24T11:24:19.253-06:00

In honor of Friday the Thirteenth, I present a True Story recalled from my childhood.I was twelve years old or so. For years I had been a fan of Bertrand R. Brinley’s Mad Scientist’s Club, and was really just now starting to be able to truly emulate their brainy schemes. This particular time, I was wiring an audio pick-up and radio transmitter. Specifically, I was trying to build a working

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-81749765947938319162006-10-06T22:10:00.000-06:002007-05-01T11:04:58.148-06:00

Many people have been introduced to Mr. James Warner Bellah without ever realizing it.Such was the case when, at three years old (or less), I watched John Ford’s Rio Grande with my grandpa. (If you’ve ever bought a Louis L’Amour paperback at a library booksale, Grandpa’s is the name hand-written on it.)Rio Grande is that film many casual filmgoers may remember as “John Wayne wearing a mustache,

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1157856062721724472006-09-09T20:25:00.000-06:002007-02-15T15:56:15.618-06:00

I just watched the US Open Championship between Maria Sharapova and Justine Henin-Hardenne. Wow.A close and spectacular competition filled with amazing shots. I mean, wow.A couple of things, though… Sharapova played through (and won) the game wearing a thin gold chain and pendant around her neck, with a pair of low-hanging earrings to boot. Why in the world would anyone subject herself to that

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1157401816326276352006-09-04T14:26:00.000-06:002006-09-04T14:38:15.813-06:00

It was one of those charming traditions of a bygone era. Whenever my brother and I would disagree on something relatively minor (who got shotgun privileges that day, for example), dad would reach into his pocket and pull out a quarter. Up it would go, then be caught, then be slapped firmly against his arm. Brother was always ‘heads,’ I was always ‘tails.’Cool, huh? Except that I never won.Well,

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1157127810598225772006-09-01T04:20:00.000-06:002006-11-09T07:58:29.867-06:00

As Allen Barra writes in an old issue of American Heritage on my shelf:Legend has it that William Faulkner, who worked on the screenplay [for The Big Sleep’s adaptation], couldn’t figure out who killed whom even after phoning [author Raymond] Chandler in London.Note his professional use of the words “legend has it.”It is a fairly famous story now that the great Raymond Chandler, sovereign of the

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1156014856367667762006-08-19T13:02:00.000-06:002006-10-20T22:30:32.673-06:00

However much the fact may offend some people’s more puritanical sensibilities, nobody enjoys a wimpy villain. I learned as a small boy that “conflict is the heart of a good story,” and if that proverb is true it must follow that: No hero can visibly elevate himself much beyond his supplied villain.This is why it is such a terrible sin for Hollywood to continually equip its heroes with

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1155126897047842222006-08-08T21:45:00.000-06:002006-11-09T07:59:06.686-06:00

On Thursday the 3rd, in the middle of a discussion of Nikola Tesla, a coworker asked rather suddenly, “What do you think about Ch’i?”My reply was succinct: “Um…”He proceeded to tell me that one who has mastered the art of the Ch’i can move and levitate objects by power of thought alone; that is, without making physical contact. Telekinesis. And he kept asking me how I thought it could be done as

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1156029195262058212006-08-07T05:05:00.000-06:002007-02-15T15:55:03.215-06:00

I am going to ask you to do something. You may take it as recommendation, but if so you have missed the point. While I would not hesitate o recommend this film, I am asking.It is this: Tomorrow, grab your checkbook and stuff it in your pocket. Pull your credit card and carry it with you. Or make sure you have a twenty in the billfold and head out. Then, go to a Target or a Barnes & Noble or your

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1155107755063287872006-08-06T01:05:00.000-06:002006-09-03T15:01:05.306-06:00

No, I did not make this up.Please tell me that “Company vehicle” means VW van.[This newspaper] makes every effort to publish only bona fide job listings. Please be sure to read ads carefully. If you encounter a problem, send e-mail to [employee]@[paper].com.Next:ROCK STARS WANTEDMust like loud music, lots of $$ and rockin’ attitude.$800-$1500/wk.Company vehicle.Call [name] at [number]

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1153603937604860612006-07-22T13:30:00.000-06:002006-11-09T08:16:52.715-06:00

Earlier this year I found myself sadly confined to a hotel room in CNY. Various unfortunate proceedings converged to make the situation even less comfortable, but one of the few highlights was a very small handful of “Mad About You” episodes. They were funny, and I don‘t find television so very often. One of them was no less than brilliant.This was not my first exposure to the show. In Nederland,

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1149993430141497972006-06-10T20:05:00.000-06:002006-11-08T12:32:59.157-06:00

I just got back from viewing Cars. One-line review:Worst Pixar feature-length ever.That is, of course, not much of an insult. Still, I can give this particular film little more praise than to say that, if it is not itself mediocre, it rests just on the edge of that lethal plummet of mediocrity.On the shiny side, the attached teaser for next year’s Ratatouille (which I have anticipated from before

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1149282413400952642006-06-01T14:50:00.000-06:002006-11-08T12:32:04.442-06:00

As some of you may have noticed, it is summer. Traditionally, summer is celebrated with participation in incredibly noisy observational events, known as ‘blockbusters.’So, I come thinking to myself, saying that perhaps there is a better alternative. Why don’t we think while wasting time, rather than give ourselves premature auditory losses? After all, we would still be wasting time, so it should

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1149281424632333712006-05-30T19:45:00.000-06:002006-11-08T12:33:38.959-06:00

So today I make my pilgrimage to the Big-City Public Metropolitan Library. Always an exhilarating event, as it is the only multi-floor public library in a seventy mile radius. Always exhilarating, that is, until I get up the check-out desk.You see, no matter what I ever do, every time I am there they are managing to lose my card data. Somehow, I am always erased from the computers. Generally, I

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1148524740402744732006-05-24T20:35:00.000-06:002006-05-24T20:47:09.656-06:00

This be one of the great mysteries of maleness: What to do when need of comfort arises.Seriously, when another guy is going through a rough time (say… member of the family undergoing meningitis scare), what does one say and do toward that individual?[Gently shaking his hand] “How is everything? Are you all right? We’re praying for you. Yes. If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call.

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1148137095074688032006-05-19T16:50:00.000-06:002006-11-08T12:34:02.874-06:00

In the past I have occasionally posted a ‘nice’ picture or two. Not today.In this still it is difficult to tell who’s winning. Actually, at points in real life it was hard to tell. But the real subject of this photograph is the wasp, who is dragging up the wall a small-to-mid-size rabid wolf spider it has killed.

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1147888512841600702006-05-17T06:50:00.000-06:002007-05-04T19:21:11.727-06:00

I am not what David Letterman calls a “Star Wars Trekkie.”In my mind, the original film had about enough story to sustain thirty or forty minutes of play… Episode VI lacks any recommendation whatsoever… and the prequels accomplished only one good thing: the construction of potent Jedi in the form of Qui-Gon Jinn and an Obi-Wan who actually does something besides die.But I am neither a Star Wars

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1147725252628492292006-05-15T14:35:00.000-06:002006-11-09T08:16:54.901-06:00

Last week this hit shelves: The Phil Silvers Show 50th Anniversary Edition DVD collection.I discovered Phil Silvers overseas two years ago on the BBC. It came on two days one week and three days the next, in a time slot that could vary by as much as three hours. No matter, that half-hour was worth scouring the listings to find.And the show was a true thirty minutes, no the twenty-plus-commercials

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1145639769954363662006-04-21T15:30:00.000-06:002006-11-05T21:30:56.664-06:00

21 April, 1836 (exactly 170 years ago) the predator was upon the prey. Or something like that…Five Mexican armies were well across the Rio Grande into what has declared itself the independent Republic of Texas. The thousands of drilled Mexican uniforms engage pockets of Tejano irregulars generally numbering in the low hundreds. Three hundred and forty-two surrendered men have been murdered less

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1145592601116155512006-04-18T22:10:00.000-06:002006-11-08T12:34:16.227-06:00

It’s tradition. As soon as Easter Sunday passes, and the seasonal candy is marked down fifty percent, I get some. Nothing to complain of when it gets down to four or five bags of Reese’s® “chocolate covered peanut butter eggs.” Good stuff.Now that’s the real meaning of Easter, huh? Well, you know, except for all that other stuff:“Why do you seek the living One among the dead? He is not here, but

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1145591849799521642006-04-11T19:45:00.000-06:002007-02-28T08:27:16.370-06:00

O.K, here be the disclaimer: If you don’t know me very well (particularly if you don’t know anything about math) and you have run across this posting, you might be tempted to categorize me as a ‘math geek.’ Please do not do this.I do not ask you this because to do so would be to insult me, but because to do so would be to insult every math geek on the face of the earth.From a practical standpoint

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1138482287873030742006-04-01T18:30:00.000-06:002006-11-10T22:28:25.527-06:00

So, I managed to expose a criminal and save his boss a bunch of money, utilizing my brain and a new Visa card. Yes, it was funny, but I didn’t get a single good belly laugh out of it. Those idiots who go around signing “Kim Jong-Il” (who, by the way, has his own much larger credit scam going) everywhere seem to have so much more fun than I did with my Elmer’s cement.So, the question becomes, “How

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1138479376899263202006-04-01T12:05:00.000-06:002006-11-10T22:25:23.074-06:00

Where was I? Oh, yeah. So there’s this guy who works at the local gas station…A friend who used to work there tells me this particular guy (let’s call him… Kenny) invites his friends over for the time slot when the security camera’s VCR hits the end of the tape. During the time between that tape coming out and the next tape going in, his pals (who reportedly are grunt workers at the area’s

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1138476265220588622006-04-01T05:25:00.000-06:002006-11-10T22:22:43.457-06:00

Ever since some investigative reporters filmed themselves doing it, credit fraud for-a-joke has steadily increased in popularity.Google credit card joke or credit card prank and you’ll find numerous people proudly proclaiming their success at duping apathetic sales workers with phony signatures, generally “Bugs Bunny” or “Britney Spears” signed for one’s own card.At least three of these

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1143222180206124902006-03-23T23:40:00.000-06:002006-11-09T07:59:14.385-06:00

The Place: Swindon, UKThe Vic: Poodle, standard. Name of Wellington.The Suspect: Boone, Christopher John Francis. 15 years. Autistic savant.But young Boone didn’t do it, and he’s defying the cops, the neighbors, and his own father as he tries to unravel the mystery of “Who Killed Wellington?”“I like Sherlock Holmes, but I do not like Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, who was the author of the Sherlock

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1142971826409097502006-03-20T17:10:00.000-06:002006-11-09T07:59:20.522-06:00

Last year I sadly missed “Serenity” in the theater. Just as sadly, I have only seen hatcheted ‘full screen’ copies for sale (all the Joss Whedon infatuates must have devoured the good copies instantly) in the local stores.Then last week, when an unfortunate series of events took me to Northerly Texas, I found my silver lining in the opportunity to view the long-anticipated vision.For the

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1141846491065318692006-03-05T16:25:00.001-06:002008-03-25T23:02:59.246-06:00

Friday morning I had three Dunkin donuts and a small cardboard container of chocolate milk for breakfast. (Minus the small cardboard container.) That’s the first time in years that I’ve had chocolate milk. Actually, that may be the first time since I learned to talk coherently that I’ve had the stuff. Not that I dislike it at all, it just never occurs to me to get it instead of the ‘real thing.’

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1141788397026057692006-03-02T21:05:00.001-06:002008-03-25T22:55:29.804-06:00

Yesterday (or maybe the day before; passage of time is a little fuzzy away from my normal schedule) it struck me that my old friends the Tsavo lions were somewhere in Chicago. I was pretty sure.I have been intrigued by these two ever since, at the age of 12 or so, I read an article detailing the story of a pair of overly-large yet maneless male lions who led a reign of terror in East Africa for

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1141751661578488292006-03-01T23:10:00.001-06:002008-03-25T22:46:04.390-06:00

This morning it was wake up, get up, and get moving.Temperatures have been bouncing between a low of 30 and a high of 40F, but the high has no standard time for appearing. I’ve been told that sometimes the high point will be mid-morning with the low returning before noon, and at other times peak isn’t reached until the sun is about to set. Probably this phenomenon is merely a manifestation of the

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1141685920059368122006-03-01T02:25:00.001-06:002008-03-25T22:39:30.687-06:00

During the course of the 29hr train ride, I knocked Tom Clancy’s “Clear and Present Danger” off my list. Good book.I also took in Sholem Aleichem’s “Today’s Children,” the first of the Tevye stories to marry a daughter off. It will, of course, not be the last.Yesterday was my first day in Chicago, or at least the first I saw more of it than could be seen from the irritating rail system that

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1141664546890126642006-02-28T05:10:00.001-06:002008-03-25T22:31:30.073-06:00

I’ve been on trains before (the airport line at O’Hare Int’l, connections from Baltimore to D.C., Wye to London, the London Underground, Amsterdam Transit, etc.), but I am now on my first cross-country rail trip. By ‘cross-country,’ I mean roughly from the Mexican border to the Canadian one.The seats are about as roomy as first-class on a small- to mid-size jet, but less hygienic. Somehow, they

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1140828683457814782006-02-25T23:40:00.000-06:002006-11-08T12:34:57.825-06:00

Last year, I was disappointed to miss the “Curse of the Were-Rabbit” theater run. I did not, however, miss the DVD release. On the Tuesday it came out I picked it up in the evening and watched it in the night (in lieu of sleeping).Some fantastic stuff. Nowhere near as good as “The Wrong Trousers,” but I’d say a deal better than the rest of W&G’s pleasant filmography.“Were-Rabbit” does a fine job

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1140764836188254652006-02-24T05:55:00.000-06:002006-02-24T18:18:48.360-06:00

I have made here a couple of posts extolling the virtues of Bill Watterson’s magnificent “Calvin and Hobbes” series of comic strips. I have since been linked to many times on related searches from Google, MSN, et cetera. The conclusion? The search engines aren’t coughing up enough Calvin and Hobbes sites.Really, someone should fix that. What is the internet without a place for plenty of Calvin

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1140734785898376722006-02-23T16:35:00.000-06:002006-02-24T00:16:30.183-06:00

It’s been a full ten days since I last posted here. Ouch.And prior to that post is a gap of nine days.Where’ve I been??Lots of places, doing lots of things. Projects for me, projects for others, lying sick in bed…Yeah, that ‘sick in bed’ part was a fun week.I am now back in health, but hardly in the same shape I had been before. So I’m building myself back up. Over the past three days (four, if

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1139890629106039262006-02-13T21:40:00.000-06:002007-07-21T19:17:40.986-06:00

Advertising life insurance is a tricky business.The basic idea is to appeal to the viewer’s greed. Get your ancient relatives on a guilt trip to buy our policy and you’ll be stinking rich!So they have to make their plan seem to have a bigger payoff than the other guy’s, while skirting the issue of just how much they intend to take everybody involved for a ride.But trickier than the above is

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1139100736255841112006-02-04T18:11:00.000-06:002006-11-08T12:37:09.947-06:00

Third perhaps. Never mind...Well, I have now seen “Pride & Prejudice,” the latest incarnation.Not at all bad, really. That said, I have a lot of nit-picks which I am very tempted to partially list. Oh, what the hey:Miss Eliza Bennet giggles too much early on. In that face-morphing way males find easily annoying and, worse, at virtually random times.Mr. Darcy is presented far too early as being

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1138939318840353332006-02-02T16:55:00.000-06:002006-11-08T12:37:03.759-06:00

This is Stovepipe. Will he see his shadow for the shades?O.K, so he’s not technically a groundhog, just the closest thing I could find.Very closely related, however, as the groundhog (or woodchuck) is a marmot and Stovepipe is a wolverine-marmot hybrid equipped with cybernetic intelligence.Yup, that’s right.And it is only appropriate that he be featured here today as he is also, by the road, the

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1138897345670892042006-02-01T23:50:00.000-06:002006-11-08T12:36:59.183-06:00

O.K, maybe not. But here it is anyway—the Best Movies of 2005! (Sort of… see below)1. Batman Begins2. Walk the Line3. Cinderella Man[1] This one I was waiting for years on end. Then, at last, Batman was given the justice he gives to others. He was given a good silver screen portrayal. Almost perfect in itself, let’s not forget the amazing cast. Michael Caine as Pennyworth? Gary Oldman as the

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1138465906357707392006-01-27T22:25:00.000-06:002006-11-09T08:17:06.087-06:00

It’s a painful commercial to start with.Two ‘real people’ in their mid-twenties staring into the camera, trying to explain how marvelous a service they used. They are doing their best to remain as still as possible, presumably so the camera lens doesn’t have to shift focus. The female has to catch herself as her over-tensed body tries to shift her forward.Much more incongruous than any of this is

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1136247757472460862006-01-26T18:15:00.000-06:002006-05-22T21:36:00.276-06:00

There are some jokes about the original sin that keep popping up. “First thing I do when I get to heaven: I’m gonna sock Adam right in the face.” That one I picked up at age seven in a copy of “The Reader’s Digest” and immediately adopted.Another, less insightful crack laments Adam’s complicity in biting the fruit, for if Eve (who is assumed to have started this) alone had sinned men would have

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1138130612853284592006-01-24T12:40:00.000-06:002006-02-04T18:10:10.423-06:00

It’s strange just how many connotations the word “human” has amassed.Particularly incongruous is the use of “being human” for “being kind.” Just where did that come from?“Humanity” is not an institution of kindness and warmth but selfishness. How many crimes have been committed simply out of a base human desire, out of a love of self? Pretty much… every crime in human history.Kindness arises not

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1138080960433588062006-01-23T23:25:00.000-06:002006-11-09T08:17:14.719-06:00

Last night’s “Bleak House” (part one of six) on PBS was very interesting. I regret to say I have not read the book (and probably will not for some years), so my review is a bit limited. But it was done skillfully and perhaps even engrossingly. It is written by Andrew Davies, the same man responsible for the scripting of 95’s magnificent “Pride and prejudice” miniseries and the ridiculous Pride &

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1137878379737887922006-01-21T14:38:00.000-06:002006-06-24T19:45:28.926-06:00

When the U.S. military adopted the M-14, it didn't take long to realize it had made a mistake.So a list of spec requirements were rushed out for a new weapon and in the 60’s the M-16 was adopted. As soon as it was used in combat, it was realized another mistake (bigger than the first) had been made.So: new spec sheet, new contest.First, everybody got exited over the XM-29, a huge (huge)

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1137794014083166972006-01-20T15:50:00.000-06:002006-11-08T12:36:42.925-06:00

Inadvertent discoveries make for the most entertaining ones. And the most indignant scientists’ wives.Hamburg, Germany, 1669: Alchemist Hennig Brandt boils fetid urine until the leftovers (in an air-exposure-preventing container) explode. Thus discovering elemental phosphorus.Guy made himself a primitive light bulb to study by out of the stuff.Nancy, France, 1832: Legitimate chemist Henri

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1137790180563363642006-01-19T17:55:00.000-06:002006-11-09T08:17:22.956-06:00

The first two episodes of “The War That Made America” aired last night on PBS.At a few points the writer’s really seem to be reaching in declaring things undisputed fact. I think in addition to going a bit too far in attempts at building a cohesive narrative from occasionally questionable sources, they insist on reading modern perspectives into decisions of 2.5 centuries ago. Not to mention

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1137648000205566422006-01-18T23:20:00.000-06:002006-01-18T23:20:00.216-06:00

Take today. When I see on one of my favorite desserts a newly-added emblem proudly proclaiming “Zero Grams Trans-Fat!!” what’s the first thing to leap into my mind?“They better not have messed up the recipe!”

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1137540285853131192006-01-17T17:20:00.000-06:002006-11-08T12:36:27.974-06:00

by Bertrand R. BrinleyPublished in book form 1965Lake monsters, gas bags, flying lunatics, a haunted house… These are just a few of the things one can do with ham radio equipment, as every boy should know.Every boy who follows the varied cast of pubescent males collectively referred to as “The Mad Scientists’ Club,” that is. Required reading for every male.And one of the books to most profoundly

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1137473723359767612006-01-16T22:50:00.000-06:002006-11-09T07:59:41.520-06:00

Martin Luther King, Jr.He stood before the country and spoke out about what was wrong. About how to fix it and how not to fix it.Harassed by the Federal government, framed and defamed by the same (in one of this country‘s greatest abuses of power in its history), he continued to spread forth his message. Only death could still his lips, but that did not destroy his message.Today, his “I Have a

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1137302505352156392006-01-14T23:20:00.000-06:002006-11-09T08:04:37.131-06:00

That Rubik’s Cube just getting to be too much for you? We’ve all been there.They talk of a formula of turns—a pattern if you like—that’ll solve the puzzle for itself. A formula, as such, I never found. (Then again, I didn’t exactly try non-stop like some.)But a solution? That I have. Easy.Gather:Q-tipsBlueGreenOrangeRedWhiteandYellow paintNow you can impress all your friends with what a brilliant

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1137219892375421682006-01-13T23:50:00.000-06:002006-11-09T08:04:47.624-06:00

Happy Friday 13. Or not.

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1137216955149211432006-01-13T22:55:00.000-06:002006-11-09T08:18:40.825-06:00

The Premise: Due to the current predisposition toward conviction and the existence of dirty cops, innocent people are sitting out life in America’s prisons. (O.K, so that part’s just fact. And the show hasn’t said anything about predisposition to convict.)The heroes set free the wrongfully convicted one poor soul at a time, led by an ex-cop with a stinging conscience and a lawyer who wants to

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1137176663370744842006-01-13T12:25:00.000-06:002006-11-09T08:04:50.540-06:00

Bored? Below are your instructions:Go into a good-sized library (multiple levels, preferably) and go to the third floor (second, for you readers in Europa). Hopefully, it’s fairly empty, as third stories generally are. Now, meander around until you find a section made up entirely of well-bound non-fiction volumes of approx. 1.5 to 3 in. wide, dating back to the 1940s. Don’t recognize a single

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1137041337766509532006-01-11T22:30:00.000-06:002006-07-23T20:20:27.800-06:00

is my two front teeth. Er, one tooth—in the front. Not quite “front tooth,” as it’s lower front and thus shielded by the uppers.And no, this isn’t another semi-lucid rant on avaricious requests. Christmas is (in the words of a certain female high-school junior) ‘like, so over.’Today, the annoying little tooth that protrudes apelike from my jaw—that little bit of ivory that tends to become

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1136593520438679982006-01-09T06:15:00.000-06:002006-01-11T23:03:28.236-06:00

The Academy Awards®The MPAAPreprogrammed microwave-oven run times

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1136592000268057992006-01-06T17:40:00.000-06:002006-01-06T22:28:02.236-06:00

Due to uncontrollable circumstances, I was absent at the funeral today.This was the day set aside to honor the life of and to inter the corruptible body of my great-uncle. I am saddened I was unable to be in attendance at the official ceremony, in addition to the substantial pain his leaving gives me. He was truly a “great” uncle in more than one sense.I am grateful to be able to say in his honor

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1136525849915262712006-01-05T23:30:00.000-06:002006-11-09T08:05:08.465-06:00

Where I live just isn’t too ideal a place for kite flying. Seldom is there any wind, and when it does come it’s in opposing gusts. Then there’s the lack of open space to launch from.More than the geographical and meteorological disadvantages, I never knew anyone who ever flew kites. There was no one to teach me.But that didn’t stop me from having one astounding flight.In fourth grade I found

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1136480584053324152006-01-04T23:30:00.000-06:002006-11-09T08:19:00.327-06:00

(“and you know that can’t be bad”)Yes, I must say the conclusion to The Big Game was exciting. I should know—that’s all I watched of it. (Unlike my sibling in the next room who watched the monster’s entirety, giving appropriately enthused advice to the crucial pawns.)To be honest, though… Yes, the finale was all I watched of the game, but at half-time I did manage to catch a pseudo-orange

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1136347879026607192006-01-03T21:25:00.000-06:002006-11-09T08:06:16.474-06:00

Tonight I watched Nova’s “The Mummy Who Would Be King.” Fascinating television.It explores the issue of identity with a mummy housed unnoticed for decades in a curiosity parlor. Basically, it ends up trying to prove that the mummy is that of the “lost” Rameses I. It does this pretty well. Most convincing is not the array of scientific tests, but the job of tracing backward through history the

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1136331374640273532006-01-03T17:35:00.000-06:002006-11-09T08:06:40.895-06:00

I was studying some of Alfred Miller’s notes on his 1837 expedition into the American West when I came across one of particular (if trivial) interest. These anecdotal memos (housed in the Walters Art Collection) were appended at some later date to the majority of the Miller watercolors I was viewing, apparently for publication—but precisely when and for what purpose I’m unaware.This particular

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1136488033834882472006-01-02T19:55:00.000-06:002006-01-05T13:07:13.890-06:00

Bad form to devote too many posts to what search engines are turning you up? Actually, I agree.That’s still not stopping me from posting this.I have just been turned up as the number two (2) result on two (2) Google searches.Second place out of 8.5 million contestants for avoiding inappropriate comments.Reprimands making for a hard day at work, are they?Fewer competitors (3.34 C’s) in this next

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1136247840498738122006-01-01T22:10:00.002-06:002006-11-09T08:06:48.727-06:00

The Caine Mutiny [1954] would obviously be just a rehash of the old “Mutiny on the Bounty” tale, a highly romanticized (and idealized) version of the actual fate of HMAV Bounty. It’s just been transposed to the second world war with no other significant changes, right?That’s what they want you to think.The screen has been populated with a few well-placed characters designed to remind the viewer

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7950206.post-1136247801400129102006-01-01T19:15:00.003-06:002006-11-09T08:06:50.751-06:00

I’ve cracked the volume control problem on my new amplifier, effectively rendering it entirely finished. Actually, I had finished it at my last posting—just hadn’t realized it. The solution was quite simply to input only from headphone jacks built into other items. In this way, rather than going direct to the amp from a DVD player’s RCA mounts, the RCAs force the signal into the television set

M. Randolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02841951934202490125noreply@blogger.com0