Category Archives: Night Writer

There was light, and it was good

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The Mall Diva is interested in just about any movie that features Elijah Wood so awhile back I placed Everything is Illuminated in our Netflix queue. I hadn’t heard of the movie when it came out in 2005, the on-line synopsis didn’t tell me much and the cover art was kind of weird, but I put it on the list and it eventually worked it’s way up and arrived at our house a couple of weeks ago. Last Saturday night my family got around to watching it. Perhaps because the film had come in “under the radar” so to speak, it’s affect was more powerful (at least for me).

The story is simple to summarize: Elijah Wood plays a young, introverted Jewish man obsessed with collecting artifacts of his life and his family’s history. He travels to the Ukraine to try and find the woman who helped his grandfather escape from the Nazis in World War II. He hires an interpreter, Alex, a young man who fancies himself a Ukrainian John Travolta ala Saturday Night Fever, and gets Alex’s grandfather in the package. The grandfather is a bitter, bigoted old man who imagines he is blind (even though he is the driver for the group) and has a demented seeing eye dog named Sammy Davis, Jr., Jr. (yes, two “Jrs.”). The story is essentially a road movie as they search for the lost village of Trachimbord, only this road runs through the nearly deserted Ukrainian country-side and their vehicle is a rattletrap Trabaunt. To say the film is a little quirky is like saying Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow is little swishy — but in both cases this works in a delightfully surprising way.

The film moves at a slow but not heavy-handed pace, “illuminated” by brief, almost surrealistic dialog, comfortable silences, perfect facial expressions, fabulous cinematography and Alex’s distinctive narration. It begins as an off-beat comedy and gradually morphs into an affecting drama. In the same way, you start out thinking the movie is one character’s story and it actually turns out to be another’s. Even the smallest roles are very well acted, leading to memorable scenes that still come back to me unexpectedly several days later.

The story doesn’t have the slam-bang plotting of so many movies today, but it still grips you and draws you in — if only to see what’s going to happen. Because it deals with the events of World War II we know there are going to be elements of tragedy in the story and in what is uncovered, but these are handled deftly without graphic and extended violence. Almost all of this is left to your imagination, and is all the more powerful for it. The story isn’t exactly heart-warming, but it is heart-stirring. I highly recommend it if you’re in the mood for a reflective, well-crafted movie with an extremely satisfying story. The language and some references are a little coarse in a couple of instances but the movie is generally appropriate for the family though it is not likely to resonate very much with younger viewers.

Mall Diva- Missing in Action

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Hey guess what you guys? I was MIA since dinnertime and I didn’t even know it! I mean, I knew where I was and I told the parental units where I was going to be, so I thought it was all good. I guess it was just another one of those “Oh dang it, I forgot!” moments.

The plan was for me to go from work to a friend’s house to do hair and they would feed me and we’d watch American Idol. First episode I’ve seen in a long time.

I was expecting a call from an old beauty school friend, but I had put my phone on silent. I wasn’t surprised when my phone showed that I had messages. But I was surprisd when I listened to them! “Faith, this is your mother. Where ARE YOU??” After that were messages from my friends that my parents had alerted to my “disappearance”. Oh, and I never did get the message I was actually expecting.

So anyway, I’m obviously not missing and everything is fine, but I really don’t know whether to feel extremely loved or a little bit paranoid about the fact that I can’t be gone for a couple hours before they send out a search party.

There’s your most exciting blog o’ the day!

An inconvenient truthiness

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Even knowledge has to be in the fashion, and where it is not,
it is wise to affect ignorance.
— Baltasar Gracian

“Truthiness” is the recent colloquialism that describes things that are thought to be facts merely because they “feel” right. The word is new, but the phenomenon isn’t, as reflected by the Mark Twain quote at the top of this page all this week: “We all do no end of feeling, and we mistake it for thinking.” I knew I was going to throw that quote up there as soon as I saw the Super Bowl commercial on Sunday claiming that 50,000 (or whatever) people die of second-hand smoke this year, and wondering if I was “alright with that.” It actually made me wonder how many billions of dollars was going to be burned due to second-hand statistics this year in the name of politically-correct junk science.

Actually, it is in the name of an ever-more-grasping (and brazen) attempt to choke off individual freedoms and liberty, supposedly for our own good, whether the issue is city-wide, state-wide or nation-wide smoking bans, or the latest global warming power-play. The strategy is all-too-familiar; get yourself some “science”, declare it reflects a consensus and then shout-down any opposition in an effort to intimidate or marginalize scientists with differing views and evidence and in the hopes of the public can be beaten into such a stupor that it can’t think or reason for itself. The effort is so obvious it is almost comical except that it the stakes are getting far too high.

The scientific method of observation, hypotheses, prediction, correction and ultimately verification by repetition to determine facts is being readily replaced by obfuscation, hypocrisy, perversion and political correction ultimately verified by repeating the lie over and over again. For centuries we’ve been told that religious fanatics are those who cling to their dubious “facts” in the face of scientific evidence to the contrary, yet the anti-smokers and the global-warmers often do the same thing today and will go after those who differ with them with a fervor and vitriol that Galileo would recognize. Whether it’s out of religious fervor, a desire for political power or something as prosaic as profit, there is no shortage of those who apparently picked up their scientific knowledge while staying at a Holiday Inn Express. They’re even going so far in some places in Europe to outlaw anyone who dissents from the global-warming consensus (which will come in handy when they try to squelch the reporting on how poorly Europe is doing in meeting its own Kyoto-mandated objectives).

Facts, as they say, are stubborn things, and they aren’t illegal yet. There is, in fact, some significant evidence mitigating or even opposing the new flavors of scientific consensus, whether it’s the effects of second hand smoke or the causes for changes in the environment (and whenever one side accuses the other of having an agenda, it’s useful to look at which group is trying to examine the facts and which is exercising personal attacks). By all means, check out the American Lung Association on second-hand smoke, but then look at Dave Hitt’s site, The Facts to see how the ALA’s studies hold up (Dave, too, has an agenda, it’s listed here).

There’s also — at least for now — a wealth of information on global warming that differs from the “consensus”; including a recent, peer-reviewed report that suggests global cooling“>global cooling is on the way. This week Bogus Gold linked a handy reference for Refuting the Climate Goebbels that features a series of articles in The National Post (Canada) describing a series of “Global Warming Deniers” — extremely credible scientists, climatologists, statisticians, and more — who are braving the group-think to focus on the facts. I’ve read through the first couple in the series and I think it’s worth linking all ten here for easy reference.

Canada.com — The Deniers Series
Statistics Needed — Part 1
Warming is real, and has benefits — Part II
The hurricane expert who stood up to UN junk science — Part III
Polar scientists on thin ice — Part IV
The original denier: into the cold — Part V
The sun moves climate change — Part VI
Will the sun cool us? — Part VII
The limits of predictability — Part VIII
Look to Mars for the truth on global warming — Part IX
Limited role for CO2 — Part X

Weathering the big game

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Bad weather usually isn’t a problem for the Super Bowl since the game is always played either in a dome or in some fabulously, and famously, sunny locale. It’s kind of a special treat for me in the middle of a Minnesota winter — I get to watch football and see some nice weather. This year, however, the weather was so bad that it actually started to affect me the day before the game.

Regular readers know that I was looking forward to watching the game on the new High-Def TV I bought last week. I had everything set up and was just waiting for the DirecTV guy to stop by and swap out my standard dish for the HD; the appointment was for Saturday morning. Well, the “high” temperatures in Minnesota the last couple of days were well-below zero with windchills in the area of -40 F. Can you believe DirecTV wouldn’t send someone out to clamber around on my roof and handle stiff coaxial cables? Wimps. Must be some Texas company handling installation for them.

So, no HD for the SB. Ok, I figured, it’ll be “Old School” — just like, say, last week! The new TV is bigger and has a very nice picture even without the HD feed. Bring on the game! Lo, and behold, I turn the TV on around 4:30 o’clock (I don’t have the patience for a lot of the pre-game hoopla and “analysis”) and it’s pouring rain. Not only is the field wet, but so are the players and … the camera lenses! It was foggy as well, making it look as if the game was being played as a weird dream sequence out of a movie. The play-by-play could have been handled by SpongeBob and Patrick from the Bikini Bottom Bowl. The action itself, through the wet and smeary camera lenses, looked as if it had been recorded on an old VCR — and then dubbed off to the eighth generation before being broadcast. Oh well, at least those famous Super Bowl commercials will be sharp.

Unfortunately, the game wasn’t the only thing watered down this year as the commercial offerings were pretty mediocre overall. There were a couple that were funny enough or somewhat interesting but the majority of them were like Rex Grossman — clumsy and trying-too-hard under the pressure. I liked the one with the animals in a pet store trying to get online with a (real) mouse, though I had trouble remembering later who the advertiser was and what I was supposed to be going online for. The Bud Light “Rock, Paper, Scissors” ad where a guy hits his opponent with a real rock was worth a short, hard laugh that immediately after made me feel a little bad.

The GM ad with the fired robot was too creepy and the Snickers “kiss” commercial was obviously contrived for shock value with a clumsy and embarrassing (there’s Rex again!) effort to be funny at the end. I came in late to the commercial where the guy had the beard comb-over, cut-offs and roller skates and never did figure out who or what was being advertised there. Also in the “almost memorable” category was “Connectile Disfunction” commercial for some wireless card provider, parodying ED commercials. I got so distracted wondering who you’re supposed to call if your hard-drive won’t shut off after four hours that I didn’t notice who the advertiser was.

The Garmin “Maposaurus” ad with the paper map morphing into a giant Godzilla type monster that has to be defeated by a Garmin Power-Ranger-Wannabe was visually interesting, but it reminded me too much of the current AMP commercial where a slacker creative-dude — wired on AMP and short on sleep — sees his wadded up concepts come to life out of the trash can. It’s not good when your commercial makes the viewer think of someone else’s commercial —
and kids, energy drinks are not a substitute for proper rest. I did like the Spokes-Lions for Taco Bell, though I’m about to propose a moratorium on talking animal advertisements as the novelty and quality of these has definitely worn off (abundantly demonstrated by all the other talking animal ads yesterday). From past experience, I expect that Taco Bell will be getting a “cease and desist” from Dreyfus Funds any minute now.

Otherwise, I thought the best commercial was Coke’s makeover of Grand Theft Auto for being funny and creative. I will also give special recognition to Revlon’s Colorist commercial; not because it was particularly well done, but because it roused the Mall Diva (herself a professional Colorist) from her stupor in the corner of the couch. She’s normally quite effervescent but yesterday she pretty much stayed curled up in a little ball until that commercial brought her up snorting and sputtering (almost as good as making tortellini come out of her nose).

The half-time show was okay, and made more interesting by the drama of wondering if one of Prince’s back up dancers (who were wearing “wrist-sweaters”, btw) would slip and go flying off of the wet stage. Prince was in good form and paid a Black History Month homage to previous stars such as Ike & Tina Turner (singing “Proud Mary”) and Jimi Hendrix (“All Along the Watch Tower”) — and then pulling off his “doo-rag” to reveal Little Richard’s hair.

Oh well, at least I can start looking forward to next year’s game. Hopefully the DirecTV installer will find weather to his liking by then.

The class of the league

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For what it’s worth, I’m rooting for the Colts in the Super Bowl this Sunday. This has nothing to do with my growing up in Indianapolis, or starting my own football career there. In fact, if my Optimists Club youth football league experiences had any bearing on this I would hate the Colts because the team I played for (the Mini-Packers) missed out on an unbeaten, untied season when the star running back for the Mini-Colts scored the game-tieing touchdown after the whistle was blown by his father, the referee. Thankfully, I’m over that now.

However, while I otherwise have fond memories of Indianapolis and still have many family members living there, my rooting interest is centered around the Indy coach, Tony Dungy. While it’s all too easy to believe the media hype and images of this “genius” coach or another, I have heard and read enough about Coach Dungy’s personal character — and over several seasons seen enough of the way he handles himself on the sidelines under extreme circumstances — to come to the belief that he really is what he seems to be: a great coach and an even better man.

I especially appreciate his faith and I attribute his peaceful attitude and helpful actions to his being able to grasp and keep a long-term perspective even in the midst of perhaps the most intensively short-term focused public environment. Even as he was being passed over for head coaching opportunities he was emminently qualified for, or getting jobbed by replay calls (while coaching Tampa Bay in the play-offs), he has maintained his composure and helped others to see that it’s not all about him. Of course, that’s what the NFL wants us to think about Tony Dungy because it’s a good “story”, but it’s not hard to see what a deep and sincere respect and affection playes and other coaches have for the man. This was never more clear than last year when his son died just as the Colts were about to enter the play-offs. Even in that trauma, where it was obvious he was truly stricken and grieved, he continued to exude peace and class while focusing on the needs of others. What an example and inspiration he is to the rest of us, whether we have anything to do with football or not!

Finally, in a league where people go to great lengths to secure even the tiniest advantage for themselves, and where one high-profile, brilliant mastermind publicly and pointedly snubs his former assistants, Coach Dungy has promoted and championed his assistant coaches for other jobs, even though it might have made things more difficult for himself. In fact, one such disciple or protégé is now the head coach of the Bears and will be one of the key factors trying to prevent Coach Dungy from winning a championship. Somehow I don’t think he’d have it any other way.

Update:

“I’m proud to be the first African-American coach to win this,” Dungy said during the trophy ceremony. “But again, more than anything, Lovie Smith and I are not only African-American but also Christian coaches, showing you can do it the Lord’s way. We’re more proud of that.”

(HT: Lassie at Freedom Dogs)

Dine, but no whine, please

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Anyone who’s lived in the Twin Cities any length of time recognizes this area’s mewling metro-insecurity that lurks just beneath our supposedly cosmopolitan surface; kind of a “Cold Omaha Syndrome”: the fear that despite our aires of suave sophistication and our cultural icons we’re really more at home with blue-light specials than gas-light ambiance. The latest jeremiad on this theme was an article in yesterday’s Strib lamenting the demise, in quick succession, of three high-end, top chef fine dining establishments, Levain, Five Restaurant and Street Lounge, and Auriga.

Though I never ate dined at any of these places I will say I feel a little sad that they’re gone I am not inclined to press the back of my wrist against my forehead and lament that Minneapolis (few even will include St. Paul for consideration) is not worthy, or is merely a “two-star” city as one restaurateur and critic said. He’s probably right, but so what?

Make no mistake, I like to eat out and the Old Country Buffet and Red Lobster (“Dead Lobster” we call it at our house) are not the troughs of choice for my family. We appreciate good food, above-average service and a degree of imagination in the menu, but dropping $75 to $100 per person on dinner isn’t high on our list of Entertaining Things to Do. Sure, I know you can spend similar amounts and more on theater or concert tickets or even going to a Vikings, Wild or Timberwolves game and that these amusements are as transitory as a fine dinner (and probably won’t set as well) — but we don’t typically do those things either. So, would we be just as happy in Des Moines?

The fun thing for us (my wife and I, anyway) is going to some new, off-beat place we’ve never been. Heck, we’ll even dress up. It’s easier to be adventurous, however, if the entrees don’t cost as much as a tank of gasoline. My wife likes to peruse the restaurant reviews in the local papers and clip out places that sound interesting. She keeps these clippings in a folder and when we have a chance to go out we’ll consult this file and choose a place. The Reverend Mother prides herself on being willing to try anything but liver or beef stroganoff (and she has discovered that she doesn’t like catfish). I’m not nearly as daring, especially if it involves vegetables, but through our outings we’ve had goat, yak, many varieties of Indian food (her favorite) and even ordered food at ethnic places where we simply pointed at things on a steam table that looked good. We’ve also enjoyed the imagination and presentation (especially because the food was also excellent) at Muffuletta and at Zelos. If anyone has any suggestions for other places we can try, leave a comment below.

One thing we’ve learned, however, with our various outings is to call first: several times we’ve ventured out to some promising place only to find that it’s already gone out of business. Apparently it’s not just the high-end, fancy restaurants that go out of business. Who knew?

“Miscarriage” of justice

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Driving home last night I was listening to Jason Lewis on KTLK-FM when the news came on. One of the stories involved Dino Scott, the Maplewood man who beat his pregnant girlfriend so severely that she miscarried her 12-week old fetus (the attack was recorded by an elevator security camera – a camera that Scott had “flipped off” before starting the attack). The story reported that in addition to assault on his girlfriend, Scott was also being charged second degree murder of an unborn child under Minnesota law.

I was already familiar with the story so I was only half-listening as my thoughts turned to the apparent premeditation of the attack and whether Scott’s intent all along had been to kill the baby. Suddenly the newscast included a comment from a NARAL spokesperson criticizing the fetal homicide charge and, I believe, describing it as an “injustice”. I wasn’t immediately focused on the broadcast so it is difficult to remember it word for word, but I’ve been Googling “Dino Scott,” “NARAL”, “Minnesota” and “fetal homicide law” to see if I can find a text version of what I heard or some other statement from NARAL on this specific case. (Nothing so far, but I’ll keep trying).

I have to admit to being a bit shocked at the statement; not so much that NARAL was taking that position, but that one of their spokespeople would be willing to voice that opinion in connection with such a heinous case (read the details here). I can’t imagine that anyone would want to attach themselves or their cause to such a sleazeball. If NARAL wants to make Dino Scott their “poster child” for fighting Minnesota’s fetal homicide law, however, then my response is, “Bring it.”

Any injustice in this case — indeed, a miscarriage of justice — is at the expense of the little child who died. That child was at 12 weeks gestation; the photos below are 4D (three-dimensional plus movement) ultrasound scans of an 8-week (left) and 10-week (right)old fetuses.

Laying it on the (non-binding) line

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In keeping with the spirit of the times the Minneapolis City Council is the latest to offer a resolution that’s about as binding as a sackful of White Castles ingested after bar-closing — and even less meaningful. Their call for “an orderly, rapid and comprehensive withdrawal of United States military personnel from Iraq” garnered the headlines, but what was missed was what the Council did after hammering out that gripping piece of political theater.

Moving on to other important business, the Council passed resolutions calling for:

  • Great Britain to give the Falklands back to Argentina
  • The NFL to redistribute Bill Belichick to the Vikings
  • The Prairie Chicken be named the state bird of North Dakota.

These resolutions all passed unanimously. Another resolution, banning President Bush from attending the 2008 Republican Convention in Minneapolis, passed 11-0 with two abstentions. The abstentions came from members who said it wasn’t appropriate to vote on the measure because George Bush wasn’t really the president of the United States.

A final resolution, condemning the blast of Arctic air headed for Minnesota later this week, had to be tabled because of arguments arising over whether or not to call for a fence to be built at the Canadian border to keep the cold air out. In a compromise measure, the Council unanimously declared that “winter was mean” because it has a disproportionate impact on the poor and minorities.

By the time these resolutions were passed the Council was out of time and couldn’t act on an agenda item calling for withdrawing law-abiding citizens from the “quagmire” of North Minneapolis.