Save yourself $8

Bad reviews got the best of me, and I decided I wasn't going to watch The Village.
So, I read the plot. Which was fun, yet still slightly dissatisfying, and we all know -- M. Night is pretty much all plot and suspense. So infuse a few moments of 6th Sense suspense while reading this, and save yourself the money. I guarantee the experience will be cheaper and better.

Will Smith & Ethiopian Food

After a couple of guys who were up to no good started making trouble in his neighborhood, Will Smith was supposedly admitted into MIT back in the day. So, in the emptiness that is my Saturday, I found a corroborating interview:

Like when you were recruited by MIT, but didn't apply.
Yeah. I never had any intention of going. My mother graduated from Carnegie Mellon. She was very serious about college, but I wanted to rap.
Can you imagine what your life would have been like if you had gone?
I would have made a billion dollars and been broke by now. I've always dreamed of a computerized classroom. You'd come in and the teacher wouldn't have to take roll - every desk would have fingerprint roll. They could track you from one class to the other. Computer engineering would've been the only way for me to go.

Moral: MIT recruits B-listers with potential. (for reference, Harvard's Natalie Portman is A-list, and Tatyana Ali is C-list). Also, now we see that rap robbed the world of would-be computer engineer Will Smith.

In other news, I noticed that Alex Kerry's fantastic speech about her father diving to rescue and administering CPR on her drowned hamster has an ironic twist -- a quick tip of the hat to Ted Kennedy, don't you think?:

"But my dad jumped in, grabbed an oar, fished the cage from the water, hunched
over the soggy hamster and began to administer CPR."

Last night made for my first social outing of the month of July by way of Ethiopian Food. New moral of food consumption -- if you're going to break your diet to go eat with people, eat at a restaurant from an impoverished society. Oddly enough, chances are the food is high in nutrition, low in crap, and overall not filling but good for your diet. PLUS, it's rare and ethnic and potentially culturally enriching, which the savants of my social universe dig.

I just got a call at desk from a drunken former resident of Baker. He wanted to know the number of another resident, but didn't seem to understand that she doesn't live her for the summer. Then he asked for "the number of any cool girl living in baker," to which I got decidedly prick. Then finally, he broke it down for me.

1. He's drunk.
2. He's in finland.
3. He doesn't have a computer.
4. His friends are drunk
5. His friends want to talk to a cute American girl.

And there you have it -- my eurotrash experience of the day. Good day to all. And remember, it's not John Kerry's fault that his speech sucked. Strenth and wisdom may not be opposing values, but the Dem playbook has apparently slated charm as the one thing that a man of substance cannot have. And so, the nation's Democrats will try elect the richest, most charmless, patronizing Vietnam Veteran (we'll play along and skip over the senator bit) to office.

cover band

OK. one more thing...
the new anathema: the motown/funk cover band.

Back when we were planning for our Senior Ball, I was a huge proponent of having a 70's/funk cover band. And well, it almost happened. They're cheap after all. Trumpets and bass and white people -- no doubt software engineers who live to cover Kool and the Gang for their weekend "gigs" in suburban bars. Well, anyhow, despite a good mp3 rendition of "Jungle Boogie," the Senior Ball committe ruled against me on this one.

And for the last 3 days I've been wondering why I've been inundated with Tina Turner and James Brown -- and it's because the DNC hired a funk cover band for their convention, no doubt to convert all of those swing voters in Ohio who are watching.

Bottom line -- when y'all have your mid-20's weddings, draw the line at Whitney, and hire a real black person.

On another note -- this Kerry girl is beautiful and well spoken. Took me a few seconds but I get this now: "If we want our daughters to control their own bodies... [elect my dad]." I'm not hip with abortion subtlety, I guess.

quick update

Been a long time -- but no, the dust of this blog hasn't yet settled, and it won't be wiped into the land of "Remember that blog dev used to write?" -- not yet, at least.

Found this amusing:

I don't really get the controversy over the NASA photos that were released, but when you're not around science, I guess it's more laughable. Undoubtedly, they're trying to get another dukakis shot. Then again, I don't get that one either.

So, in my business, I've been spending my nights watching the DNC and working on labwork. In the short month I have left in Boston, it's slowly dawning on me that, well I have to make up for 2 months of low productivity. The DNC, on the other hand, has been awful. Clinton rocked. Everyone else so far has queued my mental blender to sound upon opening their mouths. But my BS tolerance is improving. Here's to hoping that the RNC will be a magical slurry of gay bashing and country music interludes.

Summary: my life is boring.

new glasses; macguffin found

Shabby chic? More like high fashion, biatch. Validation.

Under false pretenses, my mother decided it was time for me to get new glasses -- new frames, really. So, dashing her hopes that I might regress back towards the classic Indian look and settle for diminutive metal frames, I stepped it up a notch. Very few frames are inherently suited for my face, so I presume this step will also take a week or two of adjustment, at which point, you will teeter towards deciding that they are an improvement. (Sadly, I could not stick with the Gucci brand name this time around. It's a hideable DKNY this time.)

The DNC hits town this coming week, and who would've guessed it, but a big California contingent of delegates is staying at Baker House. That, of course, means that I get to spend my day handing out maps of MIT, checking people in, and talking up the Stata Center. It's going to be a long 12 hours at desk today.

Whoopi was booted as SlimFast spokesman as a result of her Bush bashing at a Kerry gala some weeks ago. Who really wants to look like Whoopi anyway. (I always felt that she looked better as Guinan with that hair-shroud on anyway, and even at that, she conveyed the creepy vibe.) The conservative talk show men went nuts about Whoopi making fun of Bush at Kerry's gala, and so Kerry caught flack and now Margaret Cho won't be performing at some DNC-related event this week.

On a related note, someone please remind me why the nation should care about these political conventions? I mean, for people who are politically uninformed, they amount to little more than boring white men and your occasional minority giving bio-speeches about their candidate. And for people who are politically informed, it's no better than C-SPAN on an average day. Kerry won't even be at the DNC until 3 days after it begins, because he's on another swing state tour. So the point is that at the end of a C-SPAN marathon, John and John make speeches to accept the nomination? Is this worth caring about? (Yes, I realize that the delegates vote, but nobody cares about that either).

I found my MacGuffin. Been searching all week -- and now, it's a good feeling.

back from bandcamp

So it all turned out pretty awesome. I am officially a cliche.

Having come back from the screenwriting workshop at AFI in LA, I am cautiously optimistic that someday, I will be famous. Someday, I will be bald, and skinnier, with trendier glasses, and wear a permanently repulsed grimace -- I will be a successful writer. Odds, to be fair, are about 100,000 to 1 against me, and even if you sell a screenplay, the director usually cuts you from the project -- but there is a nice shady parasol of screenwriting if the air conditioned halls of PNAS expel me.

Things I learned:
1. One of my favorite movies, American Beauty, was never going to get made. Nobody in Hollywood wanted to invest in it, and it eventually took the ensemble of actors to get on board before any producer or studio was willing to make it. This is especially sad in light of the fact that my dream was to write that kind of true societal drama.

2. As encouragement, one of the folks teaching the workshop said that he had a friend who wrote 18 terrible screenplays, and finally made it big on his 19th. That big-selling, life-changing success was none other than "The Wedding Planner." And again, it hits me that it might take me more than 18 tries before I find my own personal version of JLo-esque depravity.

3. Ernest Hemingway once took the challenge to write the shortest story ever. I just thought it was clever. "For sale. Baby shoes. Never worn."

4. Whereas one producer liked my pitch for a screenplay, another kind of gave me a pity laugh. Granted, it's not the most uplifting idea for a movie, but when someone said, "What are you trying to do? A remake of Flowers for Algernon or Charlie?" I had no reply as I haven't read/seen either. Smug producer #2 responded with "yep -- that's the pedigree." And for the next several hours, I sat there in self-loathing. On a brighter note, he told me to call him in a week or two and pitch it to him again.

5. 2 Things that anyone in the business can't shut up about: (1) The "stakes" for your protagonist have to be high. That's why there are really only 3 types of drama on TV -- your cop drama, your legal drama, and your medical drama. And (2) Every screenplay can and should essentially boil down to mythology. After hearing the X-files guy go on and on about his show and how it's essentially a complex mythology, I've decided to start a little Joseph Campbell reading.

6. Everyone that spoke to us made it big by knowing the right people. Nobody graduated from college and got a job because they rocked. Someone knew Chris Carter, or some producer's brother, etc. As the world of science provides very little of this type of networking, I will officially be your slave if you have a successful hollywood producer in your family.

Enough of that -- boring. But the take home message is that I'm going to really give this screenwriting thing a shot. Well, that and be a grad student.

live... from hermosa beach, CA...

In an internet cafe today, so trendy that I have to iron my shirts so I don't feel so out of place. But, the fact that I have a PC and not a titanium ibook is enough to sweep me into the ranks of the aspirants. Well that and my dearth of blonde hair... or hair at all.
 
Several new thoughts:
1. I want a middle name. Not a real middle name, but a Harry S Truman middle name. That is, a letter that stands for nothing. It'll be like my postmodern tatoo for the world.
In the running: R, A, W, G, L, P
 
2. Rather hesitantly, going to see "I, Robot" today. Manohla Dargis and A.O. hate it. Oh, something I learned -- the "featured critic" spot on Rotten Tomatoes is paid for. So if it's a cerebral flick, the NY Times will pay for it, and if it's along the lines of "Bridget Jones," the H'wood Reporter picks it up.
 
3. I really want to read this book. Saw the author on Charlie Rose. You see, I never realized that the liberal label was pretty firmly linked with both latte drinking and volvo driving. Apparently, I have to explore my roots.
All in all, however, I must say that I like this temporary period where all bestsellers are of the political ilk. Relatively speaking, it's an informed time in the American consciousness.
 
4. So, at this coffeeshop of mine, there's always the middle-aged, slightly-balding white guy who hasn't quite mastered the inside voice and believes fundamentally in his right to use the cell phone. You know, gossip columnists would go so far if they just overheard dumbass businessmen who have this pathological need to advertise their business deals to all within a 10-yard radius. It's just obnoxious. Go to Kinko's, I say. Stay away from my wireless coffeeshop.
 
5. I'm starting to realize that staying at home for 3-4 months is going to be a lot harder than I thought. Life with mom, though pleasant, is a constant tug of war. The goal, as I see it now, it learning better to stifle myself.
 
6. So, the screenwriting thing is tomorrow and Sunday -- and I'm the youngest person there and also the most underqualified. Looking forward to overcompensating with my vast arsenal of SAT words.
On that note, I'd just like to say that if you ever criticize an adult for abuse of SAT words, what really do you mean? Almost every letter to the editor that I've gotten in the past few months has been along the lines of "I can use big words too, but Devdoot hides his lack of intelligence under a thin veneer of SAT words" -- and it saddens me. Nobody criticizes people for usage of french or latin phrases. Maybe I'll start learning phrases like "bon mot" or "cause celebre" (really the only 2 I know at present) and capitalize on this. Then again, there's a good chance that I'll never get a letter to the editor again as I won't be writing for a college newspaper. Oh well...

C-SPAN Fun

At desk today, a Polish woman complained that the key I gave her did not open her door. After going to her room to attempt to use the key, I found that it did indeed unlock the door. When I showed her this -- she was not surprised and then went to close the door and said "see, it does not lock the door." That's when I showed her the little doorknob lock button, perplexed at her perceptiveness. Embarassed, she said, "Sorry, I'm from Poland." And so, for the first time in my life, I can say that there really might be something to Polish jokes.

Life was resurrected from room temperature today when I discovered that CSPAN has webstreams of each of its three channels. So, as I sat in the lobby of Baker for my 6 hour shift, I watched Bush, Kerry, and a host of others. While it's true that there's no better bedtime channel than CSPAN(-2 preferrably) to put me to sleep at night, sometimes, I find it's the best thing on TV. Or the Web, as the case is now.

Updates:
-Stevie Wonder is still in my head.
-Going to LA this next week for my screenwriting extravaganza, via NY for the cheaper ticket.
-No toyota prius for me. Decided it's just too expensive -- going to go for a $10k civic, I think. This depresses me, though. First, no mini cooper. Now, no prius.
-Watched (most of) Oliver Stone's "JFK" today -- damn good movie. And if you thought the original was long, this was the Director's Cut (a full half hour longer than the original 3 hour release). Too bad Cheney or Rumsfeld aren't behind the Kennedy coverup -- that would just complete me.

In Politics:
1. W: "We have freed and liberated over 50 million people" -- current stump speech... impressive.
2. Newsweek reports that Tom Ridge is working on a plan to postpone the November elections if terror attacks. On the whole, it doesn't sound very sneaky. Only... it's got a bad ring to it. The Feds have no legal authority to do this, and should it really be done to "prevent the public from changing their minds due to terrorism" (a la Madrid). The more I think about it, it sounds quite politically motivated, but again, it doesn't sound like a bad idea.

2 postmortems

I was watching the McLaughlin Group yesterday and got thinking about something. What gets me is that Republicans can be damned proud of being called "right wing" politicans, whereas Democrats consider it a boon if they get the label "centrist," at least on the national scale. The "liberal" or "leftist" label is like leprosy for any Democrat. Eleanor, the token woman of the group, blamed the right-wing columnists for the demonization of the word "liberal." I take an alternate stand -- I think Democrat voters are comfortable with their politicans straying from the Liberal tag to win over a greater support base, whereas Republicans think it's moral bankrupcy to stray from the right. So, as a result, the nation is stigmatized against the liberal tag -- it's a moral black hole.

On a related note, according to Time, "The Washington Post once referred to Cheney the congressman as a `moderate,' prompting him to order an aide to call the paper's editors and `suggest they look at my voting record.'" (from today's NYtimes).

And on a tangential note, my #1 dream job is to be John McLaughlin. I guess #2'd be Charlie Rose, but then I'm swimming dangerously close to James Lipton territory.

Postmortem on 'bottle rocket' -- So bad it hurts. This movie is less fun than filtering spam by hand, which I was also doing while watching. Some movies die for me because of expectations -- this one just sinks like an anchor and defecates expectations right out back out in true cinematic diarrhea.

Unrelated: saw an MIT production of Sartre's 'No Exit' last night. I guess the 'MIT production' part should give it away, but it killed me. I sat there watching the mutilation of my favorite play.

saturday shift

The other day I stumbled into some gossip so savory as to involve multiple facets of my life. And though I'd risk serious credibility issues if I mentioned it here, I just wanted to say that it completed me. I've been trying to figure out why my summer has been so lackluster for the past few weeks. And... it's just gossip withdrawal. Not only is gossip missing, but the very objects of my social whispers are MIA (europe, quiet summers in the midwest, etc...) as are the purveyors of such information. So my current fascination with NY and LA gossip blogs (defamer, gawker, wonkette, laist) -- well it all makes sense now. Mildly pathetic, I'll give you that.

I decided that it would be fun if John McCain decided that he would run as an independent in mid-July. Wouldn't that just shake things up. Of course, it's all part of my greater fascination with more interesting news stories, but regardless, it'd be fun.

Ran into a Japanese tourist extravaganza the other day outside of our student center. Best part of it was that the tour guide, a middle-aged asian man, was dressed in Paul Revere garb, sword, marlboro, and all.

Netflix has delivered. 12 hours sitting in my lobby with SATC season 6 and Wes Anderson's "Bottle Rocket."

moving on

been up all night, doing lab work, and wasting a big chunk of time on this.

And the one song that's been playing through my head all along is this.

All the while, I've been listening to Terry Gross' archives. Became a big fan of Uta Hagen in the process.

assorted thoughts

1. In the lesser traversed corridors of MIT, there are people with too much to say but without an audience. They have doors littered with scotch tape and yellowed newsprint with old comics and articles. Some want to free Mumia. Some are avid listeners of programs like "Democracy Now." Some believe that Maureen Dowd is a conservative. Regardless, they're all nuts, and they use their door as a bulletin board to show the world that all they need is a little validation and an audience. And the reason I bring it up is that it struck me today that "devdoot.com" is no different.

2. Went to the AIM "Acronym Dictionary" today. Among new acronyms I learned are A/S/L (Age/Sex/Location) and DYOH (Do Your Own Homework) and RUOK?, from whence several Law and Order episodes begin. Notable omissions from the list: WTF, and Cheney's favorite GFY.

3. Healthy eating is out. It's more of a quest to find good eats with no nutritional OR caloric consequences. Unfortunately, I missed out on the Olestra craze. Olestra is not even being offered on eBay, I found after a quick search. Beyond this, Frito Lay ended its run with "Wow" chips (wowchips.com is inoperable). Undoubtedly the headline:
"Hundreds Suffer Diarrhea, Cramps, Incontinence" did them in...
I'd still be willing to try it. All I did find, for my eBay effors, was this.

4. Jon, the future Google employee, got me a gmail account recently. In MIT circles, not having one had led me to feel outside of the incrowd, as one can only get an account through someone who knows someone... And I like the interface. I'm still sticking with my devdoot.com address, but even so, I can sleep well knowing that the chemical engineer in texas also named Devdoot was only able to scoop up the hotmail account, while the real Devdoot has both the yahoo and the gmail and the MIT and the UCLA and the domain name and number one google hit.

Rotten Potatoe

Ok. I take back all the John Edwards stuff. First lab, then my mom, then Eric convinced me that it's not a bad idea -- I just wanted a fun headline. "Kerry Chooses Warren Beatty" -- that would bring some life to this otherwise tired political process. It would also, of course, cost Kerry the election.

Allow me to illustrate my sadness:
John Ritter + Down Syndrome = John Edwards

+ =

In brighter news, I'm currently reading a book called "Class: A Guide Through the American Status System." Apparently, my immigrant background puts me somewhere between "High Prole: White collar" and "Middle Prole: Blue Collar" -- there is some discrepancy between having a family literate enough to have books in the house and being rude enough to holler at someone in another room. Might need a shrink for this one. (prole = proletariat, but gentrified).

I was 15 seconds away from buying an iPod yesterday. Amazon.com has a sale where you get a $50 gift certificate back for any purchase over $250 in electronics. Anyhow, my willpower stood strong, but I relay the information in case anyone else might be in the market.

My wonderful idea for yesterday was to start "RottenPotatoe.com" -- a political site that works the same way that RottenTomatoes.com works. Every political decision would presented with a "% fresh" rating depending on if the nation's papers and magazines liked it or not. Anyhow, the domain name's still there -- but I haven't the wherewithall to do it -- but I think it'd be super cool. The gimmick there is that Dan Quayle can't spell "potato," btw.

you know what I just decided?
hipsters are ugly people who try to overcompensate with clothes and attitude in order to be in the incrowd.

and sometimes it works.

some political blabber

And there you have it. In an unsurprising clang of the media thimble, John Edwards is the veep candidate. And even though 60% of perspective Kerry voters wanted him there, I'm just sorely disappointed. I don't know if it's just me, but the whole appointment process has always inspired some curiousity in me. I mean, the candidate can chose whomever he/she wants. So, why does it always have to be lame? Lieberman? Edwards? Frankly, Edwards to me looks like John Ritter with Down Syndrome. He's hardly better than Al Gore. I just fear that when Bush starts sending out the attack dogs on Kerry/Edwards, it'll be "Look at the 2 democrats. Both talk big, but neither has passed ANY major legislation in Congress despite their talk." And it's not that untrue.

So there you have it. For the past month, I've been praying for some spontenaity from Kerry. Pick someone offbeat but awesome. I mean, there are thousands of candidates out there who would rock but who may not be the current hallmarks of the Dem politica establishment. But no, of course we get the trisomy 21 veep.

In other news, it turns out yesterday was a holiday. And as much fun as Monday holidays are, Monday holidays that you didn't know about are so much better. I went to work in the morning, nobody was there, I did a little work on my own, and then I jumped to the beat of "When in Rome..."

I was talking to a friend last night, and I mentioned that I had a good 4th. It was a nice long vacation that left me bewildered, and hazy when it came to getting back to work, but it felt like I had a month off. I even ended my parliament dependence, which isn't so great for the weight loss. But the best part of it all is that I acutally enjoyed the fireworks, for the first time in maybe 10-15 years. There was some faint semblance of awe, and well, that's not a bad thing.

freight train rock

Why I don't appreciate modern rock. (Courtesy of Mimi).

Weekend was fun, and long. I woke up this morning feeling like I was in the middle of an extended vacation. And so, I'm heading to work at 10:30 as a result. The 4th is really the only time (save games at Fenway) that I really get to appreciate the camaraderie of the city. And it's a good feeling. Not like New Years' Eve in Las Vegas with a bunch of drunk college students. More of a company picnic feel, with a half million people.

bored with law and order

1. law and order on usa = biggest waste of time in the world, back to back

2. for a show that's been on the air for 14 years with three different flavors (plain, CI, SVU), it's a little disconcerting that I keep seeing reruns.

3. i always hesitate before watching 'special victims unit' -- some amazingly twisted crime. i always worry it'll give me ideas, so after going psycho, i'll become 'special victims' psycho.

4. cannot stand the asian shrink. i guess i'm just glad the character isn't indian. dr. sanjay gupta alone gives me hemmorhoids.

5. unrelated, but shakespeare ensemble on campus is performing sartre's 'no exit' next week and well, it's my favorite play. anyone?

The Celebrity I'll Never Be

In life, if you're easily satisfied with yourself and/or mediocrity, you have very little to worry about.
But should you one day find your inner aspirant, I'm starting to think that the city where you end up living really affects who you become.

While it's true that urban cities in America are becoming more and more superimposable, the one thing that drives every American city is its unique elitism, each catering to a different flavor of aspiration. For New York, all it takes is a smattering of Conde Nast to adequately acquaint yourself with the upper crust. In Boston, elitism has that good old old-boys feel, with networking at the Harvard Club interspersed throughout the week. In Texas, it's the showmanship of second rate gala charity events with muted conservative underpinnings. And in LA, you don't have to be A-list, but pretty much the 'elite' run from Courtney Love on up.

And while I could always regret not being a Harvard old boy, with crooked teeth and an ethnicity that doesn't do well on screen, I'm pretty sure I'll never be a celebrity. And that's why I'm moving to Los Angeles -- because I don't have to worry about aspiring to anything -- LA elitism will always be foreign to me, and that's the way I like it. So I will spend the next decade of my life there, enjoying the weather and enduring the perpetual exhiliration of conversations about celebrity restaurant sightings.

On another note, Saturdays are spent sitting at a desk in my dorm, opening the door for people. Today, I watched The Godfather for the first time, and decided to stick with the genre for both cultural and manhood reasons. And now, a young man is now relentlessly practicing 'Canon in D' on the piano in the cafeteria. Only he's not very good at it. And he keeps playing it, 15-20 minutes on end. Of 'Canon in D.' Just doesn't get much worse than this. Oh wait, my bad, he's playing "Chariots of Fire" now.

Last night was a grad student party with some of the labmates. And it's amusing for me to delve into a scientific conversation, because it seems to make people more uncomfortable. As if they have to go to the bathroom, because they can't be seen talking about science when they're at a party for fear of social ostracism for being a nerd. Frankly, if you want to get out of grad school in a reasonable amount of time, being a nerd is a very good thing. Working on that.

On a related note, Back Bay apartments make me want to be rich.

a good moment

One of my favorite scenes from Todd Solondz's "Storytelling":

after the boy with cerebral palsy reads his short story:

AMY
I thought it was really good,
Marcus...Really moving and
emotional.

ELLI
Yeah, I thought it was really
emotional, too.

AMY
And I mean, really good word
choices. It kind of reminded me a
little of Faulkner, but East Coast
and disabled.

LUCY
Or Flannery O'Connor. She had
multiple sclerosis.

JOYCE
And Borges. He was blind.

Pause.

ETHAN
Updike has psoriasis.

Pause.

CATHERINE
Um...Maybe I'm wrong, but, um, I'm
afraid I found the whole thing to
be a little trite. Its earnestness
is, well...it's a little
embarrassing. And those
adjectives, they're a little
flatfooted. And redundant. I'm
sorry, but...Anyway, what do I
know? Don't even listen to what I
say. I mean...

Pause.

MR SCOTT
Anyone else?

No response.


MR SCOTT
Catherine is right. The story's a
piece of shit. You express nothing
but banalities and, formally
speaking, are unable to construct
a single compelling sentence. You
ride on a wave of clichés so worn,
in fact, it actually approaches a
level of grotesquerie. And your
subtitle, 'the rawness of truth'
is that supposed to be a joke of
some sort? Or are you just being
pretentious?
(beat; then checking his class book)
OK. Who's next?

the blog that wouldn't suck

Law & Order -- okay, it's formula, but I can watch a 2-day marathon and not tire of it.
ER, however, has twice over exhausted its plot. What happens? Dumb people get hurt. Smart people get screwed. Hospital politics. And of course, every loved one of every doctor is on the HMO that gets them treated at county general by America's favorite doctors. The only thing that changes is the cast, and the plot's pinnacle of constancy is Dr. Carter -- who will someday realize that he's no Sam Waterston. Moral: the show has run it's course; it's soap-opera drivel now.

Yesterday, I deleted the following comment from my post:
"Devdoot, you have made many good moves and many bad moves in your time, but creating a blog and putting an Hours review along with a "life is like" metaphor in your first five posts has to rank up there with.... [intentionally omitted]

You want a slice of your existence interspersed with your thoughts and feelings on life? Write your Great American Novel. Otherwise, this just falls short of entertaining and lands in a field of sad."
And it took me an entire day to figure out that this type of remark was only appropriate from the witty but carious Brian Loux.

And with that low point, I make a committment to avoid blatherings that border on sentimentality. Dammit, this will be entertaining, not sad. One can only hope...