…with the whole fam damily.

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I’m taking this week off from work and decided to go see King Kong yesterday. I would have gone the day after the Christmas with family members but my wife, sister-in-law and daughters proclaimed it “Girls’ day out” and left my brother-in-law and myself with the small children. You can imagine that my face looked a lot like Kong’s watching Ann Darrow rowing away when I received that pronouncement.

The movie was a bit long, but I enjoyed it. I don’t think it’s instant classic status but it was an excellent adaption of the original and Kong is fantastic. His hair and movements were incredibly realistic (at least, as realistic as a 25 foot ape might be). This was certainly miles ahead of the 1976 version which had a Kong no more realistic than Bumbles the abominable snowman from the Rudolph tv show (I mean, a gorilla that walks upright? Too bad the Jets couldn’t use him). Naomi Watts was also a dramatic improvement over Jessica Lange. Yeah, Jessica turned it around later in her career but even the monkey was more emotive than she was. Watts communicated a lot with just the expression on her face and the physicality of her actions (not just the stunts).

Another pleasant surprise was Jack Black as Carl Denham. He, too, showed he can get a lot across without saying a word (and without being a gross caricature). That said, the biggest disapointment – and it is a major failing in my book – is Black’s absolutely wrong rendering of the last (and crucial) line in the movie. I can’t believe that Peter Jackson, with all of his attention to detail and feel for the story, selected such ineffective and flat reading of “It was beauty that killed that beast.” (Ooops, sorry for the spoiler).

As far as the length of the movie is concerned, I liked seeing the way New York was reproduced. I know some have said this was were the movie should have been cut, but I found it interesting. Also, the addition of the reunion between Kong and Ann in New York was a strong addition to the story that almost went on too long. Where it did go too far is in the action sequences on Skull island. As intense as the action was, and as well done the special effects were, it was just too much overkill. I mean, having not just one, not just two, but three T-rexes bordered on jumping the shark (which is about the only voracious animal that we didn’t see in the movie).

All in all, though, a very entertaining movie and a good job by Jackson that should be a great relief for anyone concerned that he would not be able to follow the Lord of the Rings saga.

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With all the holiday activities I’ve been remiss in following up on the “weird habit” meme I inflicted on several new MOB members a little while back.

One of the first to respond was Erik at Almost on the Range, though he answered the questions in his comment box rather than in a new blog post. This is an excellent conservative blog focusing on the Duluth scene with direct and hard-hitting insight on political and economic issues (frequently the same thing), the occasional mayoral drunk-driving arrest — and high school hockey. Erik doesn’t think he has too much weirdness to self-report in his list, but does note that his existence in Duluth might be considered weird because “I’m not a liberal democrat, don’t work for a non-profit … (and) am under 30.” Going to his blog will make for an interesting visit to Duluth, unfortunately without being able to stop at Tobies on the way.

Big Chris at Because I Said So also weighed in, though it meant taking time away from writing a paper for his graduate studies program, moving, and his imminent wedding, so his take on what is weird might be relative (which Chris will especially appreciate once he meets all of his new in-laws). He also has a habit that undoubtedly makes air-travel problematic. Great photo-shopped image to go with the post, too.

Surly Dave, the chef/welder, also responded and I could probably go on and on about the implications of his post, but let me just list a few key words: lutefisk, limburger cheese, food porn. Add in the fact that his wife took over completing the list and it’s an intriguing read.

I’ll follow up on the other blogs I tagged if/when they respond.

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This isn’t art imitating life, it is art describing life (or at least my life) perfectly. Today’s Arlo and Janis comic strip:

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One of the items on Tiger Lilly’s Christmas list was a snowball maker from Hearthsong. She was delighted to find it under the tree, especially with snow on the ground. Of course, when you’ve got a snowball maker, it’s a shame not to, you know, make snowballs. Then, what are you going to do with all of those snowballs, especially ones that are so perfectly formed and aerodynamic? I don’t know if this bodes well for TL’s cousin, Micah, visiting from Oklahoma where they don’t get much snow … or for anyone, for that matter.

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We have a Christmas Cactus plant in our bedroom. It’s called that because it’s supposed to bloom on Christmas Day. Usually it’s just a green, leafy thing but it buds occasionally — not just on holidays — and has beautiful flowers. On Friday and Saturday of last week it had some new, closed buds. On Christmas morning, however, it was in full, glorious bloom! How does that happen?

Here’s a shot taken today, the day after Christmas. It’s still lovely but the blossoms are already starting to droop a bit. Kind of a sad sight, like the scraps of wrapping paper lying around that were so beautiful two days ago. Ah, well, like Christmas, they’ll all be back again!

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Hugger-mugger

(HUG ur MUG ur) n., vb., adj., adv.

Through all its uses as these various, hugger-mugger involves two basic concepts: secrecy and disorder: True, these are distinct concepts – except that acts committed clandestinely are apt to be done in haste, and consequently in disorder. In any case, as a noun, hugger-mugger means “secrecy, concealment” or “confusion, muddle”; as a transitive verb, “to conceal, hush up”; as an instransitive verb, “to act secretly,” sometimes “to seek secret counsel”; as an adjective, “secret” or “confused”; as an adverb, “secretly or in confusion.”



It was spelt hucker-mucker in the 16th century; there was a Middle English verb mokere (to conceal, hoard) and a Middle English verb moder (to muddle). Lots of possible derivations; something of a muddle in itself. In Shakespeare’s Hamlet (Act IV, Scene 5), King Claudius, concerned about “the people muddled” as to the killing of Polonius, tells Queen Gertrude:



“…and we have done but greenly [foolishly] in hugger-mugger to intern him…”



Here Shakespeare uses hugger-mugger to mean “in secrecy and haste,” in a manner that would arouse suspicion of dirty work at the crossroads. Hugger-muggery means “secret doings,” suggesting haste, concealment and confusion – a word almost onomatopoeic, especially if prounounced in a stage whisper.



This selection is taken from the book, “1000 Most Challenging Words” by Norman W. Schur, ©1987 by the Ballantine Reference Library, Random House.

I post a weekly “Challenging Words” definition to call more attention to this delightful book and to promote interesting word usage in the blogosphere. I challenge other bloggers to work the current word into post sometime in the coming week. If you manage to do so, please leave a comment or a link to where I can find it.

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Merry Christmas, happy holidays and best wishes for a happy new year from the Mall Diva, Reverend Mother, Tiger Lilly and the Night Writer!

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Wayne at Questions and Answers Blog has tagged me with this weird meme; that is, list five weird things that I do. This was difficult because anything I do that others might think is weird could still seem perfectly natural to me. With input from close acquaintances, here are some ideas:

1. I have a lousy sense of direction and constantly transpose east and west when giving directions or trying to plot my course to somewhere. (I’m also not afraid to stop and ask for directions).
2. Even though I’m fully grown (and then some), I still don’t like most vegetables and won’t eat them if I can in any way avoid doing so.
3. I come up with a different name for my fantasy football team each year. Some past monikers have been: The Rush Limbos, The Fighting Quayles, Weapons of Mass Distraction, The Vermicious Knids and this year’s team, Violence & Comic Mischief (after the rating on a xBox game I bought for Tiger Lilly).
4. I have always told my children the truth about Santa Claus. I have, however, told them that the stories in The Onion are true.
5. I have worn a kilt in public.

It is customary with these types of memes to tag others. I think it will be interesting to see how weird some of the new names I’ve notice on the Minnesota Organization of Bloggers blogroll are. Therefore I hereby tag:

Alan Anderson
My Opera Life
Because I Said So
Space Beagle
Surly’s Soap Box
Almost On The Range

Let the weirdness begin!

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From a story I saw today on Foxnews.com:

JACKSON, Mo. — Nathan Warmack wanted to honor his heritage by wearing a Scottish kilt to his high school dance. Then a principal told him to change into a pair of pants.

What began with a few yards of tartan has sparked an international debate about freedom, symbols and cultural dress. More than 1,600 people have signed an Internet petition seeking an apology for the high school senior.

Having had differences of opinion with the Missouri high school education system in my day I guess I’m not surprised that young Mr. Warmack has had to fight his own Bannockburn for independence. Some have suggested that if the laddie had been wearing a dashiki there never would have been an issue. Perhaps, but don’t underestimate the narrow-mindedness of those who feel their fiefdom is being threatened. I shouldn’t impugn the motives of the school principal without having all the details, but I will suggest that he might have had a better idea of what he was getting into if he’d read this book.

I’ve signed the on-line petition in support of young Warmack (now more than 8700 signatures), and further express my solidarity by running this photo of myself (anyone interested in a “Best Legs in the MOB” contest?).

Give ’em hell, lad, or in the words of William Shakespeare, “Lay on, Macduff, and damn’d be him that first cries, ‘Hold, enough!’”

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