Japan's Children Are Our Future Taiko Drum Masters

Hello from the future, where one misplaced letter renders our very language into katakana or some other form of Asiany hieroglyph. A mere 15 hours from now spacebars will be half their former size and bordered by character changing keys that are easily hit by stubby American fingers. It's what Morgan Spurlock warned us about.

The flight to Japan was dehydrating but otherwise uneventful. If you must be stuck in the middle seat on an airplane for 11 hours, a destination in Japan is probably your safest bet. I finished Errors and Omissions, and will have a word for the Onion AV Club when I return. I also skimmed through a small press horror novel which I won't mention by title. The publisher begged in the back pages for positive reviews on Amazon and Barnes and Noble's web site. I will do him a better courtesy and not dissuade anyone from reading this novel with homophobic homosexual sex, boring gratuitous violence (the worst kind), and scrotums filled with centipedes.

I should have just picked up the latter books in Naomi Novik's dragons meet Patrick O'Brien series. Despite having more semicolons in the first three pages than I have ever seen in my life, Her Majesty's Dragon is kind of fun.

When hiking through my wife's hometown today, we passed by her old elementary school. Rather than struggling with sea shanties on plastic recorders, these kids were outside wailing on Taiko drums. I felt robbed. And unless we restore music to our public school curriculums and invest in Guitar Hero, it's only a matter of time before we're all listening to Johnny Hell.

On another frightening note, I had been warned that there were big spiders and centipedes in my wife's hometown in the summer. I ran into one in her family's house last night that was bigger than my hand, and not in that daddy-long-legs way. The thing was horrifyingly proportionate. I guess when you grow up in an environment with spiders that big you can't afford to be afraid of them, but as far as I'm concerned that's like siding with the demons just because you're in Hell.

So, Jet Li Is Fearless?

Maybe I’m sleepy, but I don’t have much to say about Jet Li’s Fearless. It is a series of fight scenes in order of least to most fierce. Other than a few setpieces early on where the camera locks on Li and swoops with him as he defies gravity, most of the fights are shot so that the viewer can see what’s happening. (I know!) For that matter, unlike other recent martial arts epics, the characters keep their feet on the ground. Well, when they aren't delivering or reeling from flying kicks.

There is a blind girl, though. That seems to be going around.

It’s a fun action movie with a positive downbeat message. It is my understanding that a substantial amount of melodrama was cut because the Chinese government wanted it to be more of a kung fu flick. A frame story where Michelle Yeoh lectured people about the origins of wushu was also removed. Normally I’d be happy for Michelle Yeoh to tell me anything, (even "I gave you herpes” would have an upside), but in this case I have to agree with the guy who said, “I don’t need anyone telling me about wushu!”

I will be in Japan for a week. Although I should have access to the Internet there, I may not be able to post on schedule, as I won't know what day it is. If all else fails, I will return on the first of October with thoughts on my new DS. Also Japan.

There's a Healthpack in the Kitchen

Three posts in and no positive news to report. The Amber Alerts are a constant reminder that Mr. Bile has not been found. Call 911 if you spot someone traveling the Internet with the handle ycant1fcknlogin78.

Blogger Help was nice enough to point out that this is a known issue in the beta. There are also forum posts assuring me that Mr. Bile is not the only person with this problem. If someone ever finds a solution to this problem on the forums, please let me know. I’d like to get this sorted out before Sunday.

My office building is undergoing renovations that have left our hallways looking like something out of a bad first person shooter. Unfortunately, they re-installed the ceiling tiles the day I brought my digital camera, and it wasn’t the same without the exposed insulation and exit signs dangling at right angles just above my head. Though it still bears a resemblance to an unfinished mod, it’s not as interesting without the potential for zombies and headcrabs.

But, yes, there are crates. They say "ceiling" on them.

Last week, Bryan Curtis of Slate asked if you should read The Ruins. He had an interesting perspective on what the book was about, but he never specifically answered the question.

The answer is no.

I will elaborate, but in the absence of Mr. Bile, this seems like the perfect opportunity for me to set the rules regarding spoilers. That’s what he gets for having technical difficulties.

I am less interested in writing reviews than (admittedly geeky) critical analysis. There is little satisfaction to be found in having a one-sided discussion on the season finale of Battlestar Galactica. (“The thing that I won’t tell you about until you’ve seen what happens could hardly be viewed as controversial given the way the writers have played with something you might not know about yet all season.”) I just can’t wait for the survivalists without cable and DVD players who end up here while searching for Y2K message boards to catch up on BSG.

So when discussing serialized entertainment, you have fair warning that I will generally be writing under the assumption that you’ve already seen or read what I'm writing about, don’t care to, or will skip that day’s update until you have. My best wishes go to browsers who end up here after this post is archived. Lucy Lawless is a Cylon.

On a less passive-aggressive note, while you will not see the words “spoiler warning” in any posts, the occasional “spoiler free” will end up in the heading of a straight-forward recommendation. I mean, I certainly don't want to ruin a Filipino horror movie for anyone. And in accordance with my agreement with Mr. Bile, I will not discuss Lost until the new season starts in October. He still has two weeks to catch up. After that, it’s on. For all y'all.

As for The Ruins, it’s just another overly-hyped, supposedly literary summer novel, like The Historian or Jonathan Strange or that book where Jesus wore flannel, but readable. A bunch of college kids go into a jungle they’re warned not to go into, they step into some vines, and then Mayans surround them with bows and will kill them if they leave. If they don’t leave, they’ll be eaten by evil vines.

How evil is this plant? It could have killed them all instantly, but it lets them suffer for 200 pages before the last one dies. Stephen King wrote that some people might mistake it for a bloated short story. I’d argue that people who should know better might mistake it for a novel. The book has some creepy death pieces, but it’s still about a bunch of dumb kids and a plant that chuckles.

The answers to the Battlestar Galactica quiz are “over the counter birth control” and “137 minutes earlier.”

Hello and Welcome

It was my intention to have a two-week backlog of posts before opening this site to the public. I am adept at finding reasons not to write, and that strategy worked as well as rum and Coke. I found that I had little motivation to generate content without the possibility that someone might accidentally stumble onto it.

As a result, this blog is now live. Expect updates on non-Penny Arcade days. That's Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday for you PVP readers. Saturdays my hands shake.

In case you're wondering why you're here, allow me to welcome you to the unofficial Tony Randall fan site. Mr. Bile will be joining us shortly.

(Edit: the post schedule has been changed)