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July 31, 2008

Painting Beneath a Painting

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I find this technology amazing, where they can peer beneath the layers of an existing painting and see previous layers.

How do they know which layers begin and end a given painting, in this case, Van Gogh?

I saw a similar explanation in the movie "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil," with John Cusak and Kevin Spacey. The latter was a rich art collector, showing Cusak a collection. And they brought out a black light to examine the canvas.

Like the fundamentals of music, I'm afraid the nuances of art will forever escape me.

I just know what I like to hear in a song and what I enjoy experiencing in a fine painting.

As for modern sculpture appreciation since 1960 or so - forget it.

July 29, 2008

Some Guys Hang Around Too Long

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Are you sick yet of Brett Favre's classic case of indecision?

 

You had a great career dude, ending with a good season and an emotional retirement.

 

Stop trying to grab lightning in a bottle twice please.

 

Actually, I really don't care if he disrupts the Packers. Just stay away from the Dallas Cowboys please.

 

I'm sure Jessica Simpson won't!

Journey of a Thousand Steps

begins with a Tuesday lurch.

Monday's orange juice search,

might as well have been left at church;

Except I didn't go, as we all well know.

Joel on TV was a compromise you see.

Thus ends my tale,

Gimme back Apple Mail.

 

The end

July 28, 2008

The Greatest "Star Trek" Episode

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Pardon me for waxing nostalgic.

It is either this piece or the Tribbles.

My dog would prefer Tribbles. Easier to shake in tiny grr, grr fashion.

But when it comes to letting the love of your life die in a street car accident, to save all of human history - that sort of takes the cake.


Wonder What Day it Is?

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Did you get the memo about the TPS reports?

July 27, 2008

Sudden Veer From Politics




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<--- Meet Maxie Jones.

Poor Spinelli is in love with this most annoying voice in the world.

Okay, okay - so she's sort of a brilliant, Machiavellian female architect of the human spirit. Give her some credit while others keep getting killed off.

Once a bit-time player, flailing her smutty self around, interjecting her uninvited presence at Luke and Laura's "second" wedding by grabbing the bouquet.

Now all of a sudden, she's in 40 minutes out of every hour on "General Hospital," piling up the enmity.

I see crestfallen faces across a number of New York City intellectuals right now.

"This Creechman. One moment, so intelligent, quick, adept, alert, probing fundamental influences of history, well-versed, a geographic genius, but now..."


Why do I jerk you around the compass of my awareness with "General Hospital?"

Because it is sheer genius.

Fascinating how writers in this genre work. Yes, anyone who watches for a while must endure the repeated, manufactured discussions between characters rehashing recent history. This is necessary to hook new viewers into what is going on.

Takes about three days.

I find it quite amazing how they thread the plot lines. If some little story isn't working. Poof - the professor mysteriously disappears.

The family tree is a bramble bush more complicated than the Royal English Hierarchy.

So why do people get hooked? Can't be purely for the vagisil commercials.

Maybe, like your favorite radio person, a sense of connection stems from the day in, day out artificial relationships. An extension of what you experience in a movie theater.

I find it engaging, because it is pretty well done, and I'd love to throw in with those writers once in a while.

Also, it must be a frantic environment to pump this stuff out on cue cards five days per week. Too often, you can see the actors obviously reading cue cards over the shoulder of the person they are supposedly talking to. They don't have a thousand takes to get it perfect. In this respect, it resembles theater, a stage performance - and I like that "oh my God what do I say now?" reality.

Make no mistake about the pecking order. Charles Darwin never saw this set. We're talking about 25 "major" characters all wanting air time.

If you think I'm wasting my life with this drivel, you are probably right.

However, I will say that the reason I started watching "GH,", as in hitting "replay" on DVR each day after work while preparing dog dinner, is because Laura came back in October 2006.

That was important to me because "GH" was a big deal with my girlfriend in college, and I cling to fond memories of huddling uncomfortably with other sad-sack boyfriends behind the couch in the girls dormitory at the University of Texas each day at 2:00PM.

THE ENTIRE STUDENT POPULATION STRUCTURED THEIR CLASS SCHEDULES AROUND "GENERAL HOSPITAL."

It was that huge.

So with the help of TIVO, I returned to the fold, only briefly mind you, for the Luke & Laura reunion. Enchanting four weeks before she once again subsided into a coma.

So fine. It was all over then.

Except I would find myself at work, analyzing software error detection metrics, then right brain interrupts left to the echoes of "what kind of parents name their children Lucky and Lulu?, and how can Elizabeth be so hot?"

July 26, 2008

Eight Days With No Mac Mail... and not Counting

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The beautifuJulie Zenatti.

And a test to see if my blog still works.

Some dude from a Siberian prison hacked in here (so he says), claiming Alexander Solzenitsyn was the lawyer who could not get him out.

He said if I could prove Julie Zenatti was not computer generated, then we could take over the world together.

I sent him back to his comfy cell and extolled the problems amuck with Mac Mail.

Torturous tale.

Beyond humorous now.




Mom knows how to get to me, but the girl in Indiana is simply slamming her keyboard.

Hey baby, not my fault. See Steve Jobs, Mr. Skeletor.

No end of frustration. Well that's a lie. Always an end to frustration. It just sounded melodramatic.

I'm sick. Sick. Need treatment. No email. Send help. Send...Kirsten Dunst.

I hear she's good at reviving, well the male race.

Apple says they might fix the email problem next week.

Okay. Let's look at recent history.

Non.

It almost makes you want to spit French.

Just sip your wine, slur words - that's French.

If you are going to get drunk in France, fall on a park bench with a girl wrapped around your bathrobe.

She mutters something not in the Berlitz language guide for tourists.

You suddenly feel helpless after ... you know. Panic of doom caves over your soul with these words from Air France "Your flight has been canceled."

A nightmare I dream about often.

Anyway, this little scene will brush up your language skills, if you can't stop staring at what she is trying to wear as a dress.

Nightgowns are heavy cloaks next to that.

As much as I hate to admit it, I wish I could speak French, you know - well.

It is different. Just a little bit hard for moi. Don't know why.

I'm ok at Spanish, German, Russian.

French is a mystery made of jello and impossible intersections with no lights. Ask my brother.






















July 25, 2008

Creechman Existence After Mac.com Failure

Copy mass email (well, it's "sorta a mass" as in less than the Chinese population...)


Hi guys,

Long story short. Apple's conversion from .mac accounts to .me, or "mobileme" has resulted in many of us to losing email capability through the .mac address.

I'm sending this to everyone in my address book, friend or foe, for the option of being able to communicate with me via email when/if you wish, via Comcast.

I think it might take a few weeks for Apple to straighten this out. You should read the Apple help forums. Wow, people are extremely angry. This is very widespread.

I found myself annoyed too. But after a week, well - venting helps nothing, so I will wait. Worst case? I have to re-register later and start all over with a mac address?

Tell that sad story to people starving.

Meanwhile, all my YouTube video references from my blog are still intact. You know, the Anne Heche one and a dozen others.


remain okay. 

I remain a friend on Facebook, which more and more I find is everything we want.

Have a great weekend.

Family, friends, I hope not permanent foes, squeal at me at creechmark@comcast.net

July 20, 2008

S.E. Cupp


Okay, she's a babe. An intellectual babe. No question. Conservative.

One of the myths about conservative women is they have no sense of humor.

Lives in New York City. A hundred grand right there, not counting on Cash Cab.

Try asking her out through the guards.

Well, Apple Mail has not been working for me since Friday afternoon. It is never coming back.  


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Actually, she is closer to thirty than twenty-one, very nice and we are arranging a visit for her to NASA in Houston.

I could not hit "RePlay" on CSpan fast enough.

She wrote a book.

I don't read that much anymore. Do you? I know it is terrible. We should devote time to black ink on soft white pages

Very much impressed by her ability, as a conservative young woman, in the Laura Ingraham line - to stand up before an audience and unapologetically declare we live in a universe where morality is not relative.

What a concept - standing up for what you believe and it's cool?

It helps when promoters of my own philosophy are drop dead gorgeous.



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These women stand for something.

That is important to me. 

Not whimsically. Foundationally.

I can never forget a conversation I had with a guy  fifteen years ago. He told me to my face, "truth is relative."

And he sincerely believed it.

What kind of sand can you build a house on?

It's too easy. Cowardly, to set your life in order upon an ever-changing piece of quicksand.

Attacks upon the right are full of judgments about a perceived range of unfair bias. Furthest thing from truth.

Someone needs to step up and stop the brainwashing.

Apple Mail?

The mac mail server has been down for me since Friday night.

An astonishing lack of candor on any help websites.

Mystifying.

So I am not getting any emails. This has left me feeling.... not lost - but oddly reminiscent of a time before email existed. Remember those days?

Now it is "Oh my God!"

Well guess what? The sun came up this morning anyway. There's some good stuff on C-Span Book TV, my favorite Sunday morning endeavor. The dog is a happy camper.

Everything else is on hold. And if Mac Email does not come back, hello Gmail.

Here's some more "Pricess Bride" on YouTube, which is UP by the way. (taking note Steve Jobs?)








July 19, 2008

The Battle of Wits has Begun

I'm having a problem with my Mac email. None of the hate mail is coming through. This is a disaster.

Down last night and again this morning. How? Why?

Even after rebooting, just the little triangle with an exclamation point inside, and that clockwise spinning gear deal.

I feel stranded, like the bald Sicilian bested in the battle of wits.

"Are you the sort of man who would put the poison in his own goblet or his enemy's?"

"Only a fool would reach for what he is given."

"Never get involved in a land war in Asia."

"I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you."

"Truly, you have a dizzying intellect."

"Wait till I get going!"



July 18, 2008

Tennessee Williams




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Richard Marx would agree that not only did this British actress, Vivien Leigh, seize the part of American Scarlett O'Hara, in "Gone With the Wind,"

But this British actress also defined her life and soul, actually, in "Streetcar," as one of the most tragic, tragic, tragic deeply American heroines of all time.

How ironic it would fall to a girl from England to heart wrench the American experience.

I've never seen anyone as utterly, hopelessly lost as Blanche DuBois.

I can barely watch it.

More on her later because she deserves ten posts.

Girl grasping at the last straws of sanity, losing her mind. I've never seen an honorable human being have marbles crushed like that, and I never hold within the deepest reserves of my heart, any wish to.

Author gave her no way out.

What made me think about this play to begin with?

A badge on a woman at a grocery store.

Stella.

Brought to mind unrelenting heat and humidity of New Orleans.


Not unlike Houston.

It is very hot here. Every single day.

But Stella's badge brought to mind a hotness about the film, Blanche first, but also Kim's character.

Stella: a woman in between, forced to choose. What choice did she really have?

If you read the play, no answers easy for anyone.

Let Richard Marx play out. You don't want to blog surf anywhere else. Then after five seconds of silence...

Cloud petals of thoughts, out of nowhere, from a simple reference by a badge from a woman in a grocery store, ushering up pain to make silly simple scant seances, small.

Blanche later. For now, give it up to Marlon Brando.



Or YouTube.

Happy Birthday Emerson

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Fourteen years old.

Human years. That makes him, umm, don't make me do the math.

Way to go man!

When I was fourteen, in July, I used to sleep past 5AM all the time too.

Dow's big bounce

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Will it last?

The answer is, "no."

July 17, 2008

Poor Spinelli

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Poor, sweet, brilliant geek Spinelli finally fell into sex with Maxie.

After she was threatened with her life and wanted five, even six minutes of safe-keeping.

Finally. Thank God. He became a man.

I think she's going to fall for him when she continues to throw him away and Leyla becomes his amour.

Then - screeching regrets. But we are not seeing that yet.

In this moment, she immediately regrets the love-making incident after a trauma, and would not want sex to ruin their friendship.

He's crushed.










MobileMe Update

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This is now working for me, for the most part. I'm still not sure exactly how the sync works (i.e. which internal map on the macs or in the cloud is the "true" one?).

Also, I'm not using idisk to back up data. So far, only using the gallery space for movie clips.


In other words, I've been playing more than working with this capability.

July 16, 2008

Take a Philosophical Breath

Five minutes of the news this morning is enough.

There is nothing you or I can do about the stock market, bank failures, out-of-control printing of the dollar. Just swallow your 401K statement, pay your own mortgage, don't live off a credit card - and minimize the daily dose of disaster streaming from the airwaves.

Not even mentioning the international situation, same concept: when huge events are out of your personal control, sure - stay informed - but try not to allow the constant pounding to ruin your days. Because after enough days of feeling sick about it, you realize it is compromising the happiness of your life.

That's a struggle I find myself in, mid-2008. We all have our personal details, both consequences of choice as well as the deliverance of circumstantial luck, good and bad.

Look around at guys like Tim Russert and Tony Snow. Very decent men, not very old, and they are dead. When so many evil people run around healthy as oxen, is there a reason? Some think so, some not. I'm well versed in both camps, religious and secular.

It certainly makes one realize that personal downturns will come and go, but in absence of true disaster or loss - it ain't that bad. And fearing those true disasters neither brings them upon yourself, nor prevents them.
We can never banish worry entirely, nor probably should we.

But reigning it in once in a while - a must.

 

July 15, 2008

The New Badges are Here!

Got my new NASA badge two weeks ago. Tomorrow a new company badge.

Two points:

1. It is not as exciting as it sounds
2. The guy in the picture is no longer frozen at age thirty, or whatever it was


July 14, 2008

Journey to the Center of the Earth

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I can't wait to see this movie.

And who is this chick from Iceland?

Oh my God!

Now we have two Kirsten Dunsts running around.

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Anita Briem -------------------->>>>>>

And that will do it for an early lunch break. I think I'm depressed.

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<---- "What's going on here please? I turn my back for two minutes, and Mark is suddenly the U.S. Ambassador to Scandinavia?

I didn't even know he spoke Icelandic."

July 13, 2008

American Graffiti

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I admit I did not see this until wayyy past the time I should have, but a classic.

A few favorite scenes click on the pic.

What gets me is I'm so late to learn everything, like who John Lennon was. I did not know when he died that was "him."

And many other examples.




The Towering Inferno

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Woke up this morning to find this old movie on TV, but after five minutes, I realized I can't watch it.

Not the 9/11 eerie similarity either.

As much as I love Steve McQueen and Paul Newman, great guys, and the ensemble of stars in the moment of 1974, I cannot bring myself to relive this slice of the past because of O.J. Simpson.

It is impossible for me to forget that this human being still lives the life of Riley.

Anyone with any sense knows he killed two people with a knife and got away with it.

Furthermore, his attorneys, with their own sick agenda, exacerbated a racial divide, which is not getting any better by the way.

But as I say, beyond the retribution from heaven which O.J. ego will one day meet, to watch a film of this type otherwise is kind of heart-wrenching.

It was intended to, and succeeded in, capturing the passing of one generation to the next. Look how old those stars are, and that was 34 years ago.

I can measure the swift leap of the clock from when I was a kid, gobbling popcorn in a theater.

I also know, as I wax nostalgic, young people today have no emotional connection with frames of reference in my head. They view such a film as quaint, on the dustbin of inattention, as it must be.

Young people today build their emotional connections on... I really don't know what, because I have passed out of that ken.


Ocean waves smoothing out sand castles.

So I have decided, with a little crick in my neck I can't quite figure out where it came from, instead of pulling myself back in time, a better honor before God and country impels me to fold clean laundry dumped on the couch, then give serious philosophical pause to rotating batteries in the little re-charger thing.

July 12, 2008

Please Mister, Will You Buy Some Lemonade on a Sweltering Houston Night?

Harsh words in this video are not for the young, but this is why I did not go into sales.

Glengarry Glenn Ross - if only for the visual motifs and Al Pacino.

This is just the introduction, the world's best cameo.



I remember reading Thomas Wolfe.

Could have been in "Look Homeward Angel," or "You Can't Go Home Again."

One masterful piece of what he wrote dealt with salesmen, how they operate, and their superiors.

Not much has changed.


This is Really Annoying

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mefeedia

MobileMe still having problems. Can't get to the home page on the Macbook. This is causing Emerson no end of yawning.

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Meanwhile, I linked all my fabulous YouTube videos to this site, which I stumbled upon while Google searching for "I'm hungry."


Oh, I was going to develop a personal financial budget today, seeing as how unexpected expenses can test poise. But I figure, why go through all that work? Just watch the spending.

It's like dieting. You don't need Jenny Craig or some "program." Eat less. Duh.

So what else am I going to do today? Join an online community whose members feel guilty for leaving clothes in the dryer for over three days.

July 11, 2008

Where is .mac? Is MobileMe a hybrid car that doesn't run?


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Look at this silly logo that looks like it was designed by a nine year-old girl, who obviously is the lead programmer in the highly-touted conversion of .mac to MobileMe or .me.

I guess the big Apple transition was too much for the "geniuses" to handle. The day after my forced conversion to a parallel ID "me.com" in addition to "mac.com" - access to .mac remains down, problems with sync, email shenanigans.

No technical notices or emails. The mac.com website simply implies "maintenance." And the mobileme.com still shows the promo with NO LOGIN.

At least tell us you had problems.


Meanwhile, busy week to say the least. Not much time for blogging or Twittering, Facebooking, other verbings.

Emerson's ultrasounds and X-rays looked good this week. I'll have to tell you my dentist stories later. Long saga that will hopefully end next week. Let's just say it is not my dentist's finest crowning achievement.
 
Meanwhile, I leave you with the latest absurd example of political correctness run amuck.

July 7, 2008

Next Subject?

No more tennis.

Now I am going to talk about baseball.

Wrong.

July 6, 2008

Jenny Agutter

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No wonder Donald Sutherland gave up his life of crime.

















Nadal is the New Number One

The Wimbledon final today was for the ages.

I wanted Roger to win, claim his sixth title, etc.

But you know, this kid Nadal, so strong, powerful, respectful, number TWO for the longest anyone has held it.

He crushed Federer in Paris. And today, stole the crown.

Roger played well. Fought back. Excellent shot-making.

We think about McEnroe, Borg, Becker, Edberg, Connors. I don't think any of them, with whatever raquets you might put in their hands, could stand up to these guys.

Maybe that expresses a prejudice of modern day, but my analysis stands.

After the match, McEnroe made a bad move in post-match interview, trying to hug Roger in some sort of TV consolation. Roger rightly pushed him away.

I think Mac forgets what it feels like to lose a hard-fought five-setter, now he's a multi-millionaire seeking TV ratings.

In the end, the better player won, and it is a changing of the guard.

Nadal is number one now.

Of course I love Federer. But every king topples.

Don't feel too sorry for these guys with private jets and apartments in Dubai. They'll get over it.

But it was sure something to see today.

Theatrics Go with Eggs and Coffee

French themes.

If I've posted about this before, any recurring dream is up to you and your therapist.

Gauro, from Canada. 

The raspiness of his voice makes Rod Stewart sound like a mewling chickadee.

A performance of enormous effort, awesome score, soul-stirring production.

Quasimoto, the hunchback of Notre Dame, a disfigured "monster," misunderstood, as alone as a human being can be, chose life over suicide, because this was what God offered.

In a moment of supernatural kindness, he stumbled across another desperate soul, one woman who made him aware that he mattered and was valuable. Then, in a wisp, death befell her, and she was taken away as quickly as she came.

Mr. Hugo had a point in creating this heart-wrenching portrait.

I don't think he wanted us to feel sad for ourselves or others.

What he is reminding us is that life matters.

Because underneath the sadness, the loss, the pain, at core our yearning spirit survives.

Not because we deserve love. But because we have already been given it. And what we consider strife is usually quite melodramatic and laughable.

Enjoy what is left of the weekend. If you need me later, I'll be in the Dennis Miller Zone.

Danse, mon Esmeralda. Chantez, mon Esmeralda.

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<-- this link is best quality.
































Here is the YouTube version:


Quand les années auront passé 
On retrouvera sous terre 
Nos squelettes enlacés 
Pour dire à l'univers 
Combien Quasimodo aimait 
Esméralda la zingara 
Lui qui Dieu avait fait si laid 
Pour l'aider à porter sa croix 
pour l'aider à porter sa croix 
Mangez mon corps, buvez mon sang 
Vautours de Montfaucon 
Que la mort au-delà du temps 
Unisse nos deux noms 
Laissez mon âme s'envoler 
Loin des misères de la terre 
Laisser mon amour se mêler 
A la lumière de l'Univers 
A la lumière de l'Univers 
Danse mon Esméralda 
Chante mon Esméralda 
Danse encore un peu pour moi 
Je te désire à en mourir 
Dans mon Esméralda 
Chante mon Esméralda 
Laisse moi partir avec toi 
Mourir pour oit n'est pas mourir 
Danse mon Esméralda 
Chante mon Esméralda 
Viens t'endormir dans mes bras 
Je te désire à en mourir 
Danse mon Esméralda 
Chante mon Esméralda 
Au delà de l'au-delà 
Mourir pour toi n'est pas mourir 
Danse mon Esméralda 
Chante mon Esméralda 
Laisse-moi partir avec toi 
Mourir pour toi n'est pas mourir

1939

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What a year. Key in history for America and all of us. Highs and lows.

My mom was born.

Hitler on the move.

Depression still in force, but not for much longer.

Someone split the atom.

A baseball player said, "I'm the luckiest.... luckiest.... man... man.. man... on the face... face... face... of the earth... earth ... earth"

Cathode ray tubes were what geeks talked about.

Then a splendid combination of movies:

"The Wizard of Oz."

"Gone With the Wind."

And a lesser known number called "Stanley and Livingstone."

All those old actors when they were young. Corny strains of music in the background, overlaying brilliant writing such as,

"How does it feel to be walking again?" (asks Spencer Tracy)

"It gives me the compelling urge to sit down."

You can't make that stuff up.

I wonder what I should put on YouTube today...

July 5, 2008

Julie Zenatti

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Julie Zenatti essaye son coeur à un âge très jeune, sur l'étape.


Je souhaite remercier tous les haut-parleurs français de visiter mon site Web. La beauté de cette langue est exprimée bien en musique. Visitez svp encore.

peut votre amour survivre






Encore.


"Flash, I love you! But we only have 14 hours to save the earth."

For those who don't know, or did not grow up in the Mingo-Ming universe, the movie is "Flash Gordon" with the fantastically incredible (to borrow a Lindsay Lohan phrase) soundtrack by Queen.

Melody Anderson was Dale.

Imagine naming your daughter "Melody."

If you had another girl, named her "Harmony," and they both turned out to be terrible singers, the guilt would carry you to your grave.

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I finally found the famous line.

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Can't swing a dead cat around here without hitting a hypnotized Dale Arden.

Or did she just read my latest white paper on the transmogrification of dead prepositions in the english language?

"Will we ever get out of here Hans?"

"I don't know. But we'll try."


July 4, 2008

Classic Girl Fight

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I actually like the other girl in this fight

She had "the bore worms" on her from her own father.

Still Dale, like a comic book girl on film. Extremely pretty.

"Flash! I Love You. But we only have seven hours to save the universe."


Brooke Smith Moment of Life

Happy July 4th everyone.

Just playing with the awesome video capabilities of my MAC.

I'm not an anti-PC guy, even though I've "crossed over." Yet it bugs me, so to speak, that Microsoft will stop supporting XP. I like my XP just fine, thank you.

On to the heart crushing. Chekhov is hard to take apart in little venues, because every work of his is completely intertwined, even unto a two page short story. Nevertheless, I want to give credit to an actress who is able to deliver the perfectly written page with evocative emotion and not crumble under the weight.


I don't think Meryl Streep could have done any better.


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Not sure this will show up on my California friend's Brooke Smith Fan Page.

Hope it does. Happy to contribute.

The link to the left is from .Mac, because it is higher quality.

Below is the YouTube version.

Ironically, I've never seen "Grey's Anatomy." Let me guess. She's a nurse?






July 3, 2008

Aliens at Wimbledon