Has Anyone Seen My Glasses?

Reason #1,867 Why You Should Never Want to Run for President of the United States

2012-01-19T11:04:00.003-06:00

Yearbook photos!

As if running for president weren't already the worst possible thing to ever do because (non-exhaustive list):

everything you ever said will be repeated ad nauseum in and out of context
you spend almost all your time begging people for money
you have to say idiotically simple things because your party and the public will punish you for acknowledging that issues are complex
your spouse/children will be villainized
half of the people in the country will hate you simply because you exist
if you win, you can never do anything normal ever again: no vacations, no simple walks around the block, no going to restaurants without a security entourage, etc.

Now, we get to see yearbook photos! Oh, my...what a terrible thing to have the public see. I know for a fact that there are numerous photos in my high school yearbook of me in a speedo (swim team, yeah!). I shudder at the thought of millions of people seeing that.

Here's the slideshow, however, of various GOP candidates' (and former candidates...Sarah Palin is included) yearbook photos.

And here's a fun little trip down memory lane, with more politicians' yearbook photos:

Let's start with Barry Obama, rocking out the leisure suit and the afro

"Why, yes! I was on last week's episode of Soul Train."

But don't forget Michelle Robinson--the only yearbook photo in color!

"I don't care what they say, Harvest Gold is the new Avocado."

Chief Justice John Roberts used to have a lot of hair

"Danny Bonaduce and I cut each others' hair while we listen to David Cassidy albums."

Former president George W. Bush, looking positively Ivy League

"How come they call it a 'tie' when you just clip it on?"

Former president Bush looking more like he'd slept on a park bench the night before

"There's no problem that an evening with O'Doul's can't solve."

Former first lady, Laura Welch, with an excellent bouffant hairdo

"No, silly! I never stay out past six on weeknights. That's when The Brady Bunch is on!"

Former Democratic presidential nominee and current senator John Kerry with quite the underbite

"I can't believe they hung my underwear in the tree out on the quad again. I just wish it weren't the pair with the little rocket ship pictures all over."

Former first lady, senator, and almost-Democratic presidential nominee, and current Secretary of State, Hillary Rodham

"Don't make eye contact with me if you don't want to be turned to stone."

Former vice president Al Gore, looking as though he hates the world as much as he actually does hate the world

"I hate everyone so much, including myself. That's why I'm going to run for president, even if my therapist doesn't think it's a good idea."

Former president Jimmy Carter, with a face that looks a little bit like he wants to cry

"I just did my hair, guys. Can you give me a swirly tomorrow instead?"

And finally, former president and Casanova-in-chief "Billy" Clinton, who used to have a little bit of chub around his cheeks

"I swiped a cigar from the drugstore. Any ideas on what to do with it?"

That Time I Almost Got Killed by a Lion

2012-01-16T11:07:00.006-06:00

Happy 2012, people! So, it's not a new year if there aren't some new YouTube videos floating around the interwebs. Am I right?

One of them caught my eye (and about 3 million other eyes, too, apparently). It's of a little girl at a zoo in New Zealand. She's standing about six inches from the maw of a huge male lion, separated only by a (hopefully thick) pane of plexiglass. The lion starts batting at the glass, trying to get at the girl. Dinner--so close, yet so far away.

Seeing that video reminded me of my own zoo lion adventure a few years ago. I was in Birmingham, Alabama, visiting my grandparents. Almost by tradition, we visit the zoo every time we're in town. Even as twenty-somethings, my grandmother, Muv, usually takes us, because she's awesome (and because we all love getting spend some time with her).

So, we went together. We had a lovely time meandering about. Muv showed me some new additions they had installed, and it was generally just a pleasant afternoon. The sun was out, the day was warm. What could go wrong?

We walked up to the big cat area (my favorite, obviously!)

The lions at the Birmingham Zoo are in a big outdoor pen behind some glass, next to the "Big Cat House." They're usually really boring, sleeping all the time and rarely doing anything. It looked to be another one of those days. They were all just lazing about.

The big male, though, did lift his head up and yawn. It was just another day for him, reigning over his little quarter-acre plot.

However, as he finished his yawn, he looked over at us. He must see hundreds of humans every day, but for whatever reason, we interested him. He glared at me, and I glared right back.

Then I had the worst possible reaction. My cats enjoy playing a little bit of cat-and-mouse. I move my hand around a bit or wiggle a laser pointer, and they go all bonkers over it. Wouldn't a lion, which is just a big kitty, want to do the same thing?

Keeping eye contact, I started dipping and dodging, running back and forth along the little fence in front of the glass.

Sure enough, the lion kept watching me. He quietly got up and started walking toward me.

That's when I realized that I was actually being hunted by a lion. He had crouched into the medium-tall grass a few dozen yards away and was inching a little closer each moment.

Once again, I made clear why I would die if I had to survive in the wild. While a normal human/prey reaction would be to stop taunting a 500 lb. cat and run, I just doubled down on my efforts. Muv was starting to get a little nervous.

"Josh," she said, "I don't know if you should keep doing that. I think he's actually stalking you."

A moment after she said that, the lion charged. I was amazed at how quickly it ran and, as it approached, how big it really was. It lunged at the glass, and we both jumped back.

The lion hit the glass--BAM!--at full speed, and the stuff shook violently. We weren't close enough to the door of the Big Cat House to escape if it broke, and I quickly figured that I'd push Muv out of the way so the lion could eat me. I mean, it wanted to eat me anyway, so I don't think my potential gallantry would've changed much, but whatever.

The glass did hold (whew!), but the lion still stood there, on its hind legs, at least seven feet tall, growling and batting at the glass. It never once stopped staring at me, which was kind of frightening. I've never had anything want so desperately for me to be dead.

We watched it for a bit before heading into the Big Cat House. The lion was not a happy camper, and a crowd was starting to develop. I figured the thing would probably calm itself down if I were no longer part of the excitement.

I don't think we got any pictures of the event (did you, Muv?). It was terrifying. And awesome. Lions are so cool.

Assuming the lion is still the same as it was a few years ago, his name is Kwanzaa (deadliest holiday ever, apparently), and he just became a dad. Good for him. Here's a video of him being trained. Around the :40 mark, he goes up on his hind legs. Notice how huge he is and how much he could make you dead if he wasn't barricaded by something. Eek.

74 Years Ago Today

2011-12-21T10:53:00.003-06:00

I know that Christmas is right around the corner, but I just saw on a different blog that today is the 74th anniversary of the opening of Walt Disney's Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. I only just saw the film in its entirety this past year, and it was quite an experience. Now, it's true, the story is cheesy and saccharine, a lot of the animation is rotoscoped, and there are some really slow parts. However, the modern eye should overlook those seeming faults and be able to recognize how big of a deal Snow White really was. The only slight analogy we have today is Toy Story--a film that many people doubted would be successful. "No one will watch 3D characters for a full 90 minutes on screen!" For Walt Disney, it was even more extreme; animation as a medium had never been tested outside of goofy shorts. Even more so, it had never been used to tell a dramatic story.

However, Disney went with his gut, and the film became a massive, massive success. My grandpa told me a few months ago about going to see it when he was a kid. He mentioned how his Uncle George (my great-great uncle) absolutely loved it. Funny how it's considered now to be not just a kids' movie, but a little girls' movie. Back then, it was for all ages. The film cost about $1.5 million to make and grossed almost $67 million, showing the world that animated films could compete and giving Walt Disney the capital to build an entire new studio. The current Walt Disney Studios, while substantially renovated since that time, are at that same location today.

Neil Gabler, in his excellent biography "Walt Disney: Triumph of the American Imagination," goes to great length in describing the idea, production process, and release of Snow White. I'd definitely recommend either going to your local library or buying a copy.

I love Walt Disney and his philosophy of film for a similar reason that I love Jim Henson. Both felt that they could utilize their chosen mediums to influence people--especially children--in a positive way. I leave you then with statements from both men, saying effectively the same thing, and showing, at least to some extent, why their works still affect us the way that they do:

Disney:

“Movies can and do have tremendous influence in shaping young lives in the realm of entertainment towards the ideals and objectives of normal adulthood."

Henson:

"At some point in my life I decided, rightly or wrongly, that there are many situations in this life that I can't do much about - acts of terrorism, feelings of nationalistic prejudice, cold war, etc. - so what I should do is concentrate on the situations that my energy can affect. I believe that we can use television and film to be an influence for good; that we can help to shape the thoughts of children and adults in a positive way."

11 Days...

2011-12-14T12:52:00.000-06:00

I Live On Sesame Street

2011-12-05T11:35:00.006-06:00

Emily and I went to go see "The Muppets" last week (it's a fun movie; you should see it) at a local movie theater in the neighborhood where we now live. It's a totally community-oriented place and is reasonably priced to boot, so we were pretty excited. Emily has been saying for weeks that we live on Sesame Street, but without eight-foot-tall, yellow, preschool-aged birds walking around, I couldn't fully agree.

Imagine, then, my ecstasy when ahead of us in the line we made out what appeared to be that very same felt frog that made Jason Segel cry and makes America's collective heart flutter.

Sure enough, it was Kermit! He was chatting with fans as they bought their tickets. We got ours and had a few words with him. I didn't know what to say; I was starstruck.

We were a little late to the movie, and, worrying that there would be a lot of people there and no seats (everyone ahead of us had bought tickets to the same movie), I went to get popcorn while she grabbed a spot in the theater. The concessions were right by the tickets, so as I waited, I watched other people interact with Kermit. Some just ignored him, but most had kind of a cute little interaction. Then a little a girl walked up to him.

"Kermin! Kermin!" she yelled (adorably mispronouncing his name). He looked down and said hello.

"What's your name?"

"Angela" she said shyly. They spoke for a minute or two--her telling him about her school and her family--and then her mom started to pull her away.

"Bye, Kermin!" she hollered, "Bye!"

"Bye, Angela!" he responded.

Then she got really serious and looked right at him. "I love you."

Without missing a beat, Kermit said "I love you too, Angela."

That's when my heart melted.

Emily is totally right. We do live on Sesame Street.

Thanksgiving!

2011-11-28T14:53:00.005-06:00

So, happy belated Thanksgiving, everyone! This year was the first as a married couple, so Emily got to experience and endure the ten hour marathon that is the Sauerman family Thanksgiving.

Highlights of the day included:

Uncle Don--who is still flammable--and his pants falling down,

my cousin's suicidally terrified cat (I didn't see this one; only heard about it),

My cousin's grandpa's now racist terms during Scattergories (it's not 1952 anymore!),

and me getting BOTH the drumsticks. No one else wanted them!

Hope you all had a fun, delicious, tryptophan-stupor-inducing Thanksgiving!

And yes, I wore a sweater vest.

I'm Back, With Another Big Cat! And other stuff!

2011-11-07T10:28:00.005-06:00

Of course I am. Sorry, I've been gone for a while. Been busy getting married and stuff. Yay for that. Maybe I'll do a little illustratin' later about it

Here's a snow leopard that I did on real paper instead of on the new-fangled computer gizmo that's all the rage with the kids these days.

I've also been somewhat religiously listening to Nickel Creek, and loving their song "The Fox." I decided to do a few illustrations for it in my notebook (watercolor!):

Also, just working on either a zebra or a quagga. Not sure, which is why it isn't finished. I was thinking it would be an angel quagga looking at an angel dodo. Poor extinct animals...

How About A Little Motivation?

2011-10-05T11:13:00.003-05:00

I get pretty cynical about motivational quotes and posters and things, mostly because I don't think the person who expresses the sentiment has any idea of the context of it. For example, I recently saw someone use a quote from Victor Hugo's The Hunchback of Notre Dame about love. It was a nice little statement, but I doubt that the friend has any idea that (spoiler!) in the book, Quasimodo, the hunchback, dies (starvation), as does the love interest, Esmerelda (hanged), and the villain, Frollo (thrown from the top of the cathedral). It's a tragic story of unrequited love in the face of physical deformity, Church law, and different ethnicities. Using a quote from it for your marriage isn't bad, per se, but it seems somehow...unadvised?

Here, on the other hand is a good motivational poster that made me laugh, courtesy of S.T. Lewis:

Prohibition

2011-09-29T12:47:00.004-05:00

I love Ken Burns and his documentaries. Ever since I was a kid and watched The Civil War with my dad, I've been hooked. As many critics say, he has the ability to take otherwise complex and inaccessible history and turn it into something fascinating. Some say he makes things seem too simplistic. Well, that's a critique that can be leveled against any documentarian. You only have so much time that an audience will grant you. With the time that he has, Ken Burns makes people who don't like history absolutely love it.

That's why I can't wait for his new documentary, which will be showing on PBS starting this Sunday. It's on that great American experiment, Prohibition. So, go grab a tumbler, make yourself an Old Fashioned, and enjoy the featurette with great anticipation:

Pardon the Changes

2011-09-26T12:01:00.001-05:00

Apologies for the drastic changes to my blog. I've been battling Blogger's new interface for the last few days, and thus far, I seem to be losing. Hopefully it'll have more of a semblance of something readable soon.

Jim Henson's Birthday

2011-09-23T18:40:00.003-05:00

Tomorrow, I learned from Google, is the 75th birthday of the great Jim Henson.

Of course, I've written before about how inspiring Jim Henson has been to me. It's amazing to think that he'd only be 75 tomorrow. The last twenty years could've really been something for the Muppets. Maybe, however, it was his time. Maybe he left at the top of his game. I don't know. That's a bit too metaphysical for me.

Henson is such an inspiration because of his wild creativity. He never stood still, he never stopped imagining new creatures, new sketches, new characters. He continued to grow in his craft (go check out The Dark Crystal to see how advanced his puppetry had become by the end of his career). He also continued to explore other crafts--surrealism, animation, painting. Puppetry was only part of the big world of art, and the Muppets were only a part of the big world of puppetry.

I saw a video recently (I think through Drawn!, the illustration blog) about the collaboration between Jim Henson and Frank Oz. It doesn't have any narration, only interviews with Jim, Frank, and others, and clips from the various projects they worked on together. Though Frank seems to always try to give Jim sole credit for everything, the two really were one of those incredible corroborations that will be remembered for a long time to come, on the order of Laurel and Hardy, Abbott and Costello, or Gilbert and Sullivan. Kermit wouldn't be complete without Miss Piggy. Ernie wouldn't be complete without Bert, and the Swedish Chef wouldn't be complete without...uh...hands. Here it is, in memory of Jim Henson, whose Muppets continue to entertain us on the silver screen, on YouTube, at Walt Disney World, and in innumerable other places.

Happy Birthday, Jim!

Lion Drawing

2011-09-22T20:27:00.000-05:00

I promise that at some point I will stop drawing big cats. I promise I have more to my repertoire. They're just so fun.

I spent the day at the zoo, sketching animals. The gorillas were having a good time, so I might do something with one of them. Or maybe a rhinoceros or a giraffe. Or, maybe a leopard becau--doh! No, not a leopard.

Well, maybe a leopard.

Yet Another Cheetah Drawing

2011-09-15T20:10:00.000-05:00

Been working on some drawings. They're of cheetahs, which is a surprise to no one. I've been once again practicing light and shadow, so here's an example. I also had a little fun with depth-of-field in the background. I need more work on that kind of thing, but there you go.

Cheetah Run!

2011-09-15T08:56:00.004-05:00

So, I've basically been rotoscoping a clip of a young cheetah hunting a gazelle. It's a really fascinating way to see how these animals move when they are running.

Here are the two clips:

Finally!

2011-09-07T23:28:00.003-05:00

So, I try not to blog much these days about anything beyond animation and puppets and whatever, because those are things that I actually enjoy and that don't stress me out, but sometimes things come along that deserve a mention. I've whined about how much opposition responses to presidential addresses peeve me off before. Now, apparently, the Republicans in Congress have decided not to give one for President Obama's jobs speech tomorrow. Finally! But Nancy Pelosi isn't happy, because according to her, it more demeans the office of the President not to give a petulant rebuttal than to let him have the floor and exercise a traditional role of the office. Sheesh. Can't win for losing...

Yet Another Animation

2011-08-24T00:17:00.000-05:00

This time, it's a bear!

Another Thing Dealing With Animation and Big Cats

2011-08-23T21:36:00.004-05:00

Just downloaded the trial version of DigiCel Flipbook. Kinda fun. I made a lion jump (though, as you can see, ran out of room on the landing!). The timing is a little fast, but I'm still working on figuring out the product. Now, if I could only find out how to add frames...

They're Coming

2011-08-13T22:06:00.003-05:00

OK, all you right-handed yokels. Today is the day that you will all regret being 90% of the population. Today is the day that you'll regret being less prone to accident-related injuries. Today is the day that we, the lefties of the world, celebrate our sinistrality, for today, August 13, is International Left-Handers Day.

We will not cease. We will not relent. We will spread, and grow. We already have the leader of the free world. We also have the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom and will soon have the leader of the United Kingdom and the Commonwealth Realms. We lurk among you, so beware.

Lefties of the world--UNITE!

Did You Know That Kermit and Mickey Mouse Are BFFs?

2011-08-02T09:18:00.002-05:00

I had heard of the 1990 TV Special "The Muppets at Walt Disney World" before, but I had never seen it, until today. It has classic Muppetisms (Charles Grodin to Rizzo: "You know, you're smarter than the average rat." Rizzo to Charles Grodin: "Well, that's good, because you're dumber than the average human.") and the wonder of Disney COMBINED. Look out for a cameo from Raven-Symone (popular as a kid in The Cosby Show at the time) and for Stadtler and Waldorf serenading an old grandma while riding a trolley through the Magic Kingdom.

Those who know anything about Disney World will notice that they break into MGM Studios but manage to get themselves all over the different parks and hotels. Miss Piggy and Beauregard go looking for the Disney remake of Grauman's Chinese Theater in MGM but find themselves inexplicably in the Magic Kingdom instead.

Random Sketches!

2011-08-01T14:07:00.002-05:00

While cleaning out some old notebooks from work, I discovered a bunch of sketches that I had done during meetings and trials, a few of which I share here:

Cheetah and gazelle

Hyena

Shakespeare

Zombie elf

Gorillas

Furry and unicorn, inspired by the Bristol Renaissance Faire last summer. Even unicorns would be freaked out by people who get their kicks by dressing up as anthropomorphized animals, right?

Jesus, from an early sketch for a Bible study my aunt was publishing.

Shere Khan

2011-07-10T23:14:00.003-05:00

So, Milt Kahl was one of the most awesome animators ever, part of the famed Nine Old Men of Disney lore. Today, he's known both for being an incredible draftsman (many of the most famous Disney animated films' characters bear his marks--Robin Hood, The Sword in the Stone, The Jungle Book, 101 Dalmatians) and for having been a sometimes difficult character to have worked with. He had high standards and expected a lot from his colleagues. So, good for him.

I've copied a lot of stuff from him before, but mostly by individual drawings. For example, he's famous for having been able to draw uber-expressive hands:

My favorite Milt Kahl character, by far, is Shere Khan, the villainous tiger of The Jungle Book. Of course, I'm biased in favor of big cats simply because I think they're so cool. But Shere Khan, in character, in design, and in animation, is brilliantly done. He's a consummate gentleman, though twisted and vengeful. He's graceful but strong, evil but controlled. When my roommate saw a video clip of the tiger he said "He's so gentrified!"

It's true. I mean, who else could so brilliantly handle Kaa, the python:

Or give Mowgli a 'sporting chance' before being devoured:

I decided to try to do a little pencil test, totally robbing a series of images from Frank and Ollie's "The Illusion of Life" (p356-357). Like I said before, using others' art for education and inspiration is great. Copy, copy, copy!

History of English in Ten Minutes

2011-07-07T16:38:00.002-05:00

So, English is really cool, right? I mean, I also hated doing worksheet after worksheet on gerunds and participles and non-dangling modifiers, but when push comes to shove, English has a wicked awesome story. It's like someone took a bunch of disparate items--a peach, a radiator, and Gary Coleman, say--and discovered that they actually go really well together.*

Here's a series of animations on the history of the English language (worth watching the playlist in its entirety!).

*I actually don't think those three things would go well together, but neither would I think Old Norse, French, Latin, Shakespeare, and a bunch of other crap would result in a cool language.

I'm Back, With Math Jokes

2011-07-06T16:25:00.005-05:00

Hello, blogosphere. I haven't seen you in a while. I've been cavorting around these United States for the past few weeks. Maybe I'll update on that, if I remember/have time? The first post after a while is always awkward, because you feel like you need to write something totally epic.

I'm not even going to try.

Instead, I will post an email chain that I exchanged with a friend of mine:

From: [Friend]
To: [Me]
Subject: I want your address

You will hand it over or I will send a waveform of hyperbolic ninjas at you.
______________________________

From: [Me]
To: [Friend]
Subject: Re: I want your address. OK!

I have one house in the real plane () and one on the Riemann Sphere, but the directions to that one might be a little complex.

The real-valued address is:

Grand Marquis Joshua Sauerman KG, GCMG, LVO, KStJ
[address withheld]

Oh, wait. That's the imaginary-valued name. The real one should just read "Josh Sauerman". I'd lose my head if it weren't screwed on.
______________________________

From: [Friend]
To: [Me]
Subject: Re: I want your address. OK!

Thank you, Grand Marquis Sauerman.

You are too funny, let's be friends. Some people collect bottle caps. I collect bipedal humor spigots.
______________________________

From: [Me]
To: [Friend]
Subject: Re: I want your address. OK!

Friends it is! Keep me around and your spigot will gush forth milk and honey at a rate of .

______________________________

From: [Friend]
To: [Me]
Subject: Re: I want your address. OK!

You make me want to remember how math works.

In Which I Ruminate Upon Copying Other Artists And Finding Nemo

2011-06-08T21:07:00.006-05:00

Plagiarism is a bad thing. I shouldn't have to say it, but some people in our society apparently don't understand that.

However, utilizing another's work for educational purposes is a great idea. Some don't think that's the case (well, he's kind of against the selling of copied art, which I agree with), but in art, at least, copying others has long been one of the best ways to learn things yourself. In fact, since 1793

[The Louvre] has allowed, even encouraged, artists to hone their skills by copying the masterpieces in its collections. Thousands have done so, including great classical painters from Turner to Ingres, Impressionists from Manet to Degas, and modernists like Chagall and Giacometti. “You have to copy and recopy the masters,” Degas insisted, “and it’s only after having proved oneself as a good copyist that you can reasonably try to do a still life of a radish.”

Of course, once you copy other peoples' stuff, you shouldn't go around selling it. Sometimes people will notice and sue you, and that's bad. It's also unethical. So, don't do it.

I have always loved looking at others' work. I love copying it from time to time, especially when I think it'll help me learn something valuable. I did that recently, from one of my favorite "Art of" books, "The Art of Finding Nemo."

I've mentioned before how much I love the artistic choices that went into Finding Nemo, primarily the way the color of the water was used to indicate the mood of the scene (and therefore, usually, the mood of Marlin, the father character). The concept art for the movie's color scripts were done in chalk pastel by Ralph Eggleston, who is awesome. I decided to practice my color and composition by copying some of them. Mine (of course) aren't perfect, but they accomplished their purposes by teaching me some new things about light and color.

For example, Marlin's translucence as a fish means that when light is shining through him, his fins, which are thin, will be lightened, while his body, which is thick, will be darkened. The blueness of the water and the orangeness of his body will turn his body into a nice, deep purple. Fascinating!

On the other hand, when trapped inside the whale, the light is no longer the bright sun shining through clear water. Instead, it is a low yellow, tempered by the blues of the baleen. What's the neatest to me, though, is the light reflection off of the whale's tongue onto Marlin's back fin. Also, the brightness of the outlines of Marlin and Dory, showing off their 'shininess' when they are in the air instead of the water.

The last one I did was mostly for color and composition. The murky green palette does a couple things. First, it's somewhat dank and dreary. No one likes green water, because it reminds you of the scummy, polluted, industrial water of cities and mucky ponds. You don't think of vitality there. Second, it emphasizes how far the tropical fish have come. Dory's bright blue and Nemo's bright orange stand in stark contrast to the green. They don't blend or match their surroundings. They are in a foreign place. The crab, on the other hand, is also a muted yellowy color, which shows that he's right at home where he is. Third, it diffuses the light in a neat way. Because they are swimming above/standing on a metal pipe, the light is reflecting slightly off of it, but only if you are close enough. That's why Dory gets a little bit of that reflection and the crab gets a lot. Nemo, however, doesn't get any. He's too far away for that reflected light to reach him.

So, go and copy! Copy, copy, and copy! Maybe you'll learn something, and then you'll create your own stuff that other people will copy, and copy, and copy!

Exhibits

2011-06-02T17:01:00.002-05:00

Exhibit A: Ring-Tailed Lemur.

Exhibit B: Sifaka.

Some Various Things!

2011-06-01T16:29:00.005-05:00

Haven't posted for a little while. Here are some things that have happened!

New Muppet Trailer!

Based on the one for The Hangover II.

First Rendered Still from Brave!

It matches well with the concept art, too:

On a similar note, an interview with Brenda Chapman, former director of Brave.

Wear a Helmet! (Even If You Look Stupid)

My Morning

2011-05-25T09:22:00.003-05:00

This was basically my morning, except replace "school" with "work" and "Tuesdays" with "Wednesdays."

Muppet-Related Emissions

2011-05-24T14:54:00.005-05:00

AAAAAHHH!

Muppet poster: released!

Muppet teaser trailer: released!

Contents of my bladder due to my excitement: released!*

*

A New Site!

2011-05-18T16:54:00.004-05:00

Hello, people. I'm now a contributor to an Animation Mentor student sketch site, Spike's Sketch Squad. You should check it out! My first drawing is pasted below:

Chimpanzee: "Orang you glad I didn't say banana again?!"

A Little Animation

2011-05-09T19:53:00.004-05:00

Today I was able to listen to a live question and answer session with two animators from Rio. It was really informative, especially when they discussed how they went about animating birds and how they keep animation from shot to shot consistent. During the discussion, I animated a lion yawning (because it's an interesting movement, not because I was bored...):

Wrong Incentive Much?

2011-05-05T14:04:00.003-05:00

Seriously? This is supposed to stop me from using this urinal?

On a related note, Happy Belated Star Wars Day!

h/t Geekologie

The Father of Imbibing

2011-05-05T12:01:00.006-05:00

Everyone already knows that George Washington is the man, what with telling the truth about chopping down that cherry tree, defeating the British, being made of radiation, and killing zombies. Apparently, that's not all. Our nation's first president was also a connoisseur of that fine early malt tradition. In his "Notebook as a Virginia Colonel" in 1757, the crazy hooligan added a recipe for "small beer." Described as "roasty" and with an aura of "coffee," the founder's brew is easy to make, so long as you know when the temperature is "Blood warm."

Anyone up for some celebratory brewing? Start now and it might be ready by the Fourth of July.

The recipe:

To make Small Beer
Take a large Sifter full of Bran Hops to your Taste. - Boil these 3 hours. Then strain out 30 Gallons into a Cooler, put in 3 Gallons Molasses while the Beer is scalding hot or rather drain the molasses into the Cooler & strain the Beer on it while boiling Hot. Let this stand till it is little more than Blood warm. Then put in a quart of Yeast if the weather is very cold, cover it over with a Blanket & let it work in the Cooler 24 hours. Then put it into the Cask - leave the Bung openhole open till it is almost done working - Bottle it that day Week it was Brewed.

Last WWI Combat Vet Dies

2011-05-05T11:07:00.006-05:00

Wow--it truly is the end of an era. The last combat veteran of World War I, Claude Choules, has died in Australia. How crazy, to see something like that happen. I remember an estimate that there were 65 million combatants in World War I. Someone had to be the last to survive. Mr. Choules was it.

Reflecting on his 108-year life back in 2009, Mr. Choules told the Australian Broadcasting Corporation that "I had a pretty poor start. But I had a good finish."

And, as expected, the Great War, which began with the shots heard around the world, has passed with barely a whisper.

Allahu Akbar

2011-05-01T23:23:00.001-05:00

Osama bin Laden is dead.

My New Wallpaper

2011-04-25T17:41:00.003-05:00

I love the Golden Girls, and Betty White in particular.

Good Friday

2011-04-22T23:56:00.003-05:00

Crucifixion, Thomas Eakins

On this Good Friday, I'll let G.K. Chesterton do my talking, from The Everlasting Man:

Every attempt to amplify [the Passion] has diminished it. The task has been attempted by many men of real genius and eloquence as well as by only too many vulgar sentimentalists and self-conscious rhetoricians. The tale has been retold with patronizing pathos by elegant skeptics and with fluent enthusiasm by boisterous best-sellers. It will not be retold here. The grinding power of the plain words of the Gospel story is like the power of millstones; and those who can read them simply enough will feel as if rocks had been rolled upon them. Criticism is only words about words; and of what use are words about such words as these? What is the use of wordpainting about the dark garden filled suddenly with torchlight and furious faces? 'Are you come out with swords and staves as against a robber? All day I sat in your temple teaching, and you took me not.' Can anything be added to the massive and gathered restraint of that irony; like a great wave lifted to the sky and refusing to fall? 'Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me but weep for yourselves and for your children!'

As the High Priest asked what further need he had of witnesses, we might well ask what further need we have of words. Peter in a panic repudiated him: 'and immediately the cock crew; and Jesus looked upon Peter, and Peter went out and wept bitterly.' Has anyone any further remarks to offer? Just before the murder he prayed for all the murderous race of men saying 'They know not what they do'; is there anything to say to that, except that we know as little what we say? Is there any need to repeat and spin out the story of how the tragedy trailed up the Via Dolorosa and how they threw him in haphazard with two thieves in one of the ordinary batches of execution; and how in all that horror and howling wilderness of desertion one voice spoke in homage, a startling voice from the very last place where it was looked for, the gibbet of the criminal; and he said to that nameless ruffian, 'This night shalt thou be with me in Paradise'? Is there anything to put after that but a full-stop? Or is anyone prepared to answer adequately that farewell gesture to all flesh which created for his Mother a new Son?

It is more within my powers, and here more immediately to my purpose, to point out that in that scene were symbolically gathered all the human forces that have been vaguely sketched in this story. As kings and philosophers and the popular element had been symbolically present at his birth, so they were more practically concerned in his death; and with that we come face to face with the essential fact to be realized. All the great groups that stood about the Cross represent in one way or another the great historical truth of the time; that the world could not save itself. Man could do no more. Rome and Jerusalem and Athens and everything else were going down like a sea turned into a slow cataract. Externally indeed the ancient world was still at its strongest, it is always at that moment that the inmost weakness begins. But in order to understand that weakness we must repeat what has been said more than once; that it was not the weakness of a thing originally weak. It was emphatically the strength of the world that was turned to weakness and the wisdom of the world that was turned to folly.

In this story of Good Friday it is the best things in the world that are at their worst. That is what really shows us the world at its worst. It was, for instance, the priests of a true monotheism and the soldiers of an international civilization. Rome, the legend, founded upon fallen Troy and triumphant over fallen Carthage, had stood for a heroism which was the nearest that any pagan ever came to chivalry. Rome had defended the household gods and the human decencies against the ogres of Africa and the hermaphrodite monstrosities of Greece. But in the lightning flash of this incident, we see great Rome, the imperial republic, going downward under her Lucretian doom. Scepticism has eaten away even the confident sanity of the conquerors of the world. He who is enthroned to say what is justice can only ask, 'What is truth?' So in that drama which decided the whole fate of antiquity, one of the central figures is fixed in what seems the reverse of his true role. Rome was almost another name for responsibility . Yet he stands forever as a sort of rocking statue of the irresponsible. Man could do no more. Even the practical bad become the impracticable. Standing between the pillars of his own judgment-seat, a Roman had washed his hands of the world. There too were the priests of that pure and original truth that was behind all the mythologies like the sky behind the clouds. It was the most important truth in the world; and even that could not save the world. Perhaps there is something overpowering in pure personal theism; like seeing the sun and moon and sky come together to form one staring face. Perhaps the truth is too tremendous when not broken by some intermediaries divine or human; perhaps it is merely too pure and far away.

Anyhow it could not save the world; it could not even convert the world. There were philosophers who held it in its highest and noblest form; but they not only could not convert the world, but they never tried. You could no more fight the jungle of popular mythology with a private opinion than you could clear away a forest with a pocket-knife. The Jewish priests had guarded it jealously in the good and the bad sense. They had kept it as a gigantic secret. As savage heroes might have kept the sun in a box, they kept the Everlasting in the tabernacle. They were proud that they alone could look upon the blinding sun of a single deity; and they did not know that they had themselves gone blind. Since that day their representatives have been like blind men in broad daylight, striking to right and left with their staffs, and cursing the darkness. But there has been that in their monumental monotheism that it has at least remained like a monument, the last thing of its kind, and in a sense motionless in the more restless world which it cannot satisfy. For it is certain that for some reason it cannot satisfy.

Since that day it has never been quite enough to say that God is in his heaven and all is right with the world; since the rumor that God had left his heavens to set it right.

And as it was with these powers that were good, or at least had once been good, so it was with the element which was perhaps the best, or which Christ himself seems certainly to have felt as the best. The poor to whom he preached the good news, the common people who heard him gladly, the populace that had made so many popular heroes and demigods in the old pagan world showed also the weaknesses that were dissolving the world. They suffered the evils often seen in the mob of the city, and especially the mob of the capital, during the decline of a society. The same thing that makes the rural population live on tradition makes the urban population live on rumor. just as its myths at the best had been irrational, so its likes and dislikes are easily changed by baseless assertion that is arbitrary without being authoritative. Some brigand or other was artificially turned into a picturesque and popular figure and run as a kind of candidate against Christ. In all this we recognize the urban population that we know, with its newspaper scares and scoops. But there was present in this ancient population an evil more peculiar to the ancient world. We have noted it already as the neglect of the individual, even of the individual voting the condemnation and still more of the individual condemned. It was the soul of the hive; a heathen thing. The cry of this spirit also was heard in that hour, 'It is well that one man die for the people! Yet this spirit in antiquity of devotion to the city and to the state had so been in itself and in its time a noble spirit. It had its poets and its martyrs; men still to be honored forever. It was failing through its weakness in not seeing the separate soul of a man, the shrine of all mysticism; but it was only failing as everything else was failing. The mob went along with the Sadducees and the Pharisees, the philosophers and the moralists. It went along with the imperial magistrates and the sacred priests, the scribes and the soldiers, that the one universal human spirit might suffer a universal condemnation; that there might be one deep, unanimous chorus of approval and harmony when Man was rejected of men.

There were solitudes beyond where none shall follow. There were secrets in the inmost and invisible part of that drama that have no symbol in speech; orin any severance of a man from men. Nor is it easy for any words less stark and single-minded than those of the naked narrative even to hint at the horror of exaltation that lifted itself above the hill. Endless expositions have not come to the end of it, or even to the beginning. And if there be any sound that can produce a silence, we may surely be silent about the end and the extremity; when a cry was driven out of that darkness in words dreadfully distinct and dreadfully unintelligible, which man shall never understand in all the eternity they have purchased for him; and for one annihilating instant an abyss that is not for our thoughts had opened even in the unity of the absolute; and God bad been forsaken of God.

They took the body down from the cross and one of the few rich men among the first Christians obtained permission to bury it in a rock tomb in his garden; the Romans setting a military guard lest there should be some riot and attempt to recover the body. There was once more a natural symbolism in these natural proceedings; it was well that the tomb should be sealed with all the secrecy of ancient eastern sepluchre and guarded by the authority of the Caesars. For in that second cavern the whole of that great and glorious humanity which we call antiquity was gathered up and covered over; and in that place it was buried. It was the end of a very great thing called human history; the history that was merely human. The mythologies and the philosophies were buried there, the gods and the heroes and the sages. In the great Roman phrase, they had lived. But as they could only live, so they could only die; and they were dead

On the third day the friends of Christ coming at daybreak to the place found the grave empty and the stone rolled away. In varying ways they realized the new wonder; but even they hardly realized that the world had died in the night. What they were looking at was the first day of a new creation, with a new heaven and a new earth; and in a semblance of the gardener God walked again in the garden, in the cool not of the evening but the dawn.

Portraiture, Triduum, and Bears, oh, my!

2011-04-21T23:44:00.005-05:00

Today marks the beginning of what the liturgical calendar calls the Easter Triduum, or "Three Days," consisting of Maundy Thursday (today), Good Friday, Black Saturday, and Easter Sunday.*

*Wait, Josh! That's four days! Excellent point. The time is counted from the night of Maundy Thursday ("the Mass of the Last Supper") until the night of Easter Sunday, for a total of three days.

Maundy Thursday is one of the most important days in the Christian year, because it was on that night that Jesus held the Last Supper, instructed the disciples on Communion, predicted Peter's denial, washed the disciples' feet, prayed in Gethsemane, and was betrayed and arrested.

The story of this night has always been very significant to me for two reasons: the institution of the Eucharist and the prayer of Jesus in Gethsemane.

The Eucharist is a deeply mystical event. 'This is my body. This is my blood. Take, eat and drink.' With this act, the faithful enter into specific communion with God in physical form through consumption of his very flesh and blood (or representations thereof). Through it, we thank all the persons of God for the sacrifices: becoming flesh, dying as an atonement for sin, and indwelling on the Earth. I can't comprehend what any of this really means, but I understand the depth of its meaning. I guess that's what makes it mystical.

Anyway, I've been wanting to practice oil painting for some time, and portraiture in particular. And the effects of dramatic lighting. So, I decided to combine all these things. It being Holy Week and all, I decided to do a portrait of Jesus. I both am happy to have done it because of the long history of beautiful Christian art and totally disgusted with myself for having potentially joined the legions of terrible Christian kitsch. Whatever.

It's a portrait (unfinished!) of Jesus breaking the bread.

So, there you go.

_______________________________

The other fascination of Maundy Thursday for me is in Gethsemane, and Christ's prayer in the garden. I'll let C.S. Lewis do my speaking:

Some people feel guilty about their anxieties and regard them as a defect of faith. I don't agree at all. They are afflictions, not sins. Like all afflictions, they are, if we can so take them, our share in the Passion of Christ. For the beginning of the Passion--the first move, so to speak--is in Gethsemane. In Gethsemane a very strange and significant thing seems to have happened.

It is clear from many of His sayings that Our Lord had long foreseen His death. He knew what conduct such as His, in a world such as we have made of this, must inevitably lead to. But it is clear that this knowledge must somehow have been withdrawn from Him before He prayed in Gethsemane. He could not, with whatever reservation about the Father's will, have prayed that the cup might pass and simultaneously known that it would not. That is both a logical and a psychological impossibility. You see what this involves? Lest any trial incident to humanity should be lacking, the torments of hope--of suspense, anxiety--were at the last moment loosed upon Him--the supposed possibility that, after all, He might, He just conceivably might, be spared the supreme horror. There was precedent. Isaac had been spared: he too at the last moment, he also against all apparent probability. It was not quite impossible...and doubtless He had seen other men crucified...a sight very unlike most of our religious pictures and images.

But for this last (and erroneous) hope against hope, and the consequent tumult of the soul, the sweat of blood, perhaps He would not have been very Man. To live in a fully predictable world is not to be a man.

....

We all try to accept with some sort of submission our afflictions when they actually arrive. But the prayer in Gethsemane shows that the preceding anxiety is equally God's will and equally part of our human destiny. The perfect Man experienced it. And the servant is not greater than the master. We are Christians, not Stoics.

....

As for the last dereliction of all, how can we either understand or endure it? Is it that God Himself cannot be Man unless God seems to vanish at His greatest need? And if so, why? I sometimes wonder if we have even begun to understand what is involved in the very concept of creation. If God will create, He will make something to be, and yet to be not Himself. To be created is, in some sense, to be ejected or separated. Can it be that the more perfect the creature is, the further this separation must at some point be pushed? It is saints, not common people, who experience the 'dark night.' It is men and angels, not beasts, who rebel. Inanimate matter sleeps in the bosom of the Father. The 'hiddenness' of God perhaps presses most painfully on those who are in another way nearest to Him, and therefore God Himself, made man, will of all men be by God most forsaken?

-Letters to Malcom, 1964

Egge Homo

2011-04-17T21:42:00.006-05:00

Κατὰ Ἰωάννην 19.5
"...ἐξῆλθεν οὖν [ὁ] Ἰησοῦς ἔξω, φορῶν τὸν ἀκάνθινον στέφανον καὶ τὸ πορφυροῦν ἱμάτιον. καὶ λέγει αὐτοῖς Ἰδοὺ ὁ ἄνθρωπος.'"

Ioannes 19:5
"...ut cognoscatis quia in eo nullam causam invenio et purpureum vestimentum et dicit eis ecce homo."

John 19:5 (ESV)
"So Jesus came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe. Pilate said to them, 'Behold the man!'"

Ecce Homo, the Latin phrase for 'Behold the man' (or 'Look upon the man'), was recorded by the author of the Gospel of John as what Pontius Pilate said as he displayed the thorn-crowned, purple-robed Christ to the crowd in Jerusalem before sending him to be crucified. Actually, the gospel author recorded Pilate as saying Ἰδοὺ ὁ ἄνθρωπος (meaning, unsurprisingly, 'Behold the man'). However, the popularity in the West of the Latin Vulgate meant that Ecce Homo is the line that gained renown. Across the centuries, it has become synonymous with the trial of Jesus and the symbolism surrounding it. Artist after artist has depicted it.

My favorite piece, by far, and possibly my favorite painting, is Ecce Homo by Antonio Ciseri. It is not a stranger to this blog. The image of a thoroughly flogged and humiliated Christ, still standing, while the power of Rome, the Jewish hierarchy, and the Jerusalem mob all coalesce against him, is deeply moving. Ciseri's picture brings it all together, from the viewpoint of someone within the Roman governor's palace, looking out upon the scene of the trial. It is a similar view to the one that I imagine the apostle Peter having when he sneaked into the trial of Jesus before Caiaphas.

Ecce Homo, Antonio Ciseri

On this Palm Sunday, some friends and I blew eggs and painted them with different pictures and designs. I, feeling festive, decided to make mine Ciseri's Ecce Homo. I portray Christ and Pilate (and a column to complete the circle, since you may notice the two are framed by two columns in the painting).

Happy Palm Sunday!

AfghANDYstan

2011-04-16T16:36:00.005-05:00

From what I've heard, this is decidedly not what Andy has been up to. No matter. Strip #2 for your enjoyment (click to enlarge).

Robot

2011-04-15T23:23:00.001-05:00

I painted this yesterday for my roommate. It's a robot looking at a balloon fly away.

(bad picture, taken with my phone)

Blackout Poetry

2011-04-15T23:17:00.003-05:00

I'd never heard of this until today, but it's a brilliant idea. This guy named Austin Kleon takes newspaper articles and blacks out most of it, leaving some words to make poetry.

This one is called "Overheard on the Titanic."

You should also read his inspiration on being an artist; it's well worth it: HERE.

Civil War Sesquicentennial

2011-04-12T20:08:00.002-05:00

Today marks the 150th anniversary of the first shots of the American Civil War. On this day in 1861, Confederate forces began firing upon the Union-held Ft. Sumter at the mouth of Charleston Harbor.

Inside the fort was Maj. Robert Anderson, an artillery commander who had once taught at West Point.

Leading the bombardment was recently promoted General P.G.T. Beauregard, who had been taught artillery and been an assistant to a certain artillery officer named Robert Anderson.

Ft. Sumter stands as a fascinating start to a truly horrifying conflict. No casualties were suffered by either side in that entanglement. However, almost exactly four years later, the war would be over and 622,000 lives would have been lost.

In addition to that was the human element, exemplified by the relationship of the adversaries at Ft. Sumter. Over the course of the war, countless friends and families were ripped apart. Some of the famous examples include:

Confederate Gen. Lewis Armistead sending his Bible to his dear friend Union Gen. Winfield Scott Hancock's wife (Armistead would die the next day while leading a portion of Pickett's Charge against Hancock's troops),
Confederate Gen. James Longstreet serving as a groomsman at Union Gen. Ulysses S. Grant's wedding, and
Confederate Gen. Jeb Stuart's father-in-law, Union Col. Philip Cooke, chasing him unsuccessfully as Stuart rode is cavalry in a circle around the entire Union army.

For these reasons--the combined horror and humanity, not to mention the central moral purpose of emancipation that President Lincoln successfully transitioned the war into--the Civil War is inscribed into our collective national memory. I hope that we continue to remember it, with both fascination and reverence, for its effects and its costs. As Robert E. Lee said during the massacre of the Battle of Fredericksburg, "It is well that war is so terrible, or we would grow too fond of it."

Today At Work...

2011-03-23T16:04:00.004-05:00

We had a really, really long meeting, from 9:30am until 2pm. Blech. I had to be there but wasn't much a part of the whole thing, so I drew pictures. I'm on a major Byzantine kick right now, which led me to do some sketches of Justinian, upon completion of the Hagia Sophia, declaring in awe: "Νενίκηκά σε Σολομών!" ("Solomon, I have outdone thee!")

The Speech of the King

2011-03-21T21:59:00.006-05:00

So, yeah, when it comes to movies, I am routinely months (if not years) behind the curve. That means that me having seen The King's Speech on Friday is nothing short of a miracle. It only won the Oscar for Best Picture like three weeks ago. That said, even though it's showing in about three theaters in the United States by this point, you should go see it.

It always surprises me that there are so many interesting histories that haven't been told in movie or made-for-TV-movie or miniseries or TV format. I mean, I guess fourish thousand years leaves lots of epic things to tell.

The King's Speech is the story of Albert, Duke of York, the second son of King George V (who ruled the UK during World War I) and younger brother of King Edward VIII. He, unbeknownst to me, suffered from a stutter throughout his life, almost debilitatingly so until the mid-1920's, when he began taking elocution lessons from an Australian therapist named Lionel Logue. When his brother abdicated the throne in order to marry twice-divorced American socialite Wallis Simpson in 1936, Albert became the reluctant King George VI (father of today's Queen Elizabeth II) who led his nation through the second war with Germany in a generation.

I won't ruin the movie's story or go too deeply into it, but instead will discuss both its historicity and the acting.

Historicity

First, to get an idea, here's a real video of George VI speaking in public. His stammer is noticeable, though not terribly pronounced:

The movie does a pretty good job in being historically accurate, and the changes were appropriately done for dramatic effect. I detail the biggest ones here:

1. Prince Albert actually began taking elocution lessons from Lionel Logue much earlier than the movie portrays. The film is correct in opening on Albert's speech at the closing of the British Empire Exposition in 1925. The book The Queen Mother and Her Century by Arthur Bousfield describes it thusly:

April 1925 was a particularly bad experience for the Duke as he had become President of the Empire Exhibition and was required to make a speech which would be broadcast on radio and be made in front of his awe-inspiring father, the King. The King recorded that "Bertie got through his speech all right" but others noted that there were embarrassingly long pauses in it.

After that, he determined that he had to solve his problem. Lionel Logue was the tenth he tried. Turns out that the tenth try is the charm.

2. The movie is incorrect in portraying Albert's first major public speech as his Declaration of War speech in September 1939. It was actually a speech in 1927 opening the Australian Parliament. However, for drama the film made the training with Logue and the pinnacle speech out to be later.

3. Churchill. Winston Churchill made a few appearances in the movie because people today are so familiar with him. However, as Christopher Hitchens details in his review, Churchill was actually a big supporter of Edward VIII. When the abdication was imminent, Churchill was so enamored by the young King that he almost lost his own support in the Party by advocating for his battle with the Church of England over the divorce issue.

4. On a smaller note, at the end of the film, Churchill is included with the group of senior ministers listening to the King's broadcast. This is wrong on two counts. First, there wouldn't have been a large group of people listening to the speech in Buckingham Palace. It would've simply been the King, his family, and the radio people. Second, even if the event did happen that way, Churchill as Lord of the Admiralty would not have been distinguished enough to be present. George VI only warmed up to Churchill later in the war, having been cool to him because of his support for Edward.

5. The Munich Agreement. Probably the biggest thing left out of the movie is also probably George VI's biggest monarchical blunder. When Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain returned in September 1938 declaring "Peace for our time," having just joined France in betraying Czechoslovakia to Hitler, the King invited him to the balcony of Buckingham Palace, an honor usually reserved for the Royal Family. His support for appeasement (though common among the Britons of the day) was misplaced, and the event stands as an embarrassment on the highest order.

Acting

I don't know what to say, beyond that Colin Firth and Helen Bonham-Carter were both incredible in their roles. I always thought that HBC was pegged as a crazy woman, on the order of Bellatrix LeStrange in the Harry Potter franchise and her character in Sweeney Todd. However, she took on the role of George VI's wife Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon ("the Queen Mother") with grace and charm. The support and care she shows for George is lovely and believable.

Firth, for his part, did (what it seemed, and what's been confirmed by experts on the subject) an incredible stuttering performance. For what is already such a difficult condition to live with, Firth showed how devastating it can be for one who must constantly speak in public. George's fear of speaking was palpable through Firth, and you loved his character for how held up under the situation: never wanting to be king, but accepting his duty with great resolve. In fact, he received what could be the highest honor for the film, and I don't mean his Oscar for Best Actor. I mean the statement from Queen Elizabeth (who was a little girl at the time of the events portrayed), saying that she was "touched by a moving portrayal of her father."

For comparison, below are the real "King's Speech" from September 3, 1939 and the one from the movie (spoiler!):

So, yeah, I can't gush about the movie enough. It was great. Well worth $10 and two hours of my life.

When Elephants Attack

2011-03-18T14:38:00.003-05:00

I think the last time I saw a flying elephant was in Dumbo, except Dumbo didn't obliterate things (except for our hearts of stone).

(notes on) biology from ornana films on Vimeo.

Happy St. Pat's!

2011-03-17T13:12:00.001-05:00

Random Drawring

2011-03-14T23:05:00.003-05:00

I drawed this today. It's actually a figure/light study for the cover of a Bible study that my aunt is putting together. It in no way reflects me at the moment (that is, I'm rather happy right now, unlike the dude in the sketch).

New England and Stuff

2011-03-09T20:29:00.004-06:00

Wow. I just returned from an unexpectedly long trip to New England for work. It was crazy. I'm not usually one to use a blog like a diary, but I feel warranted this time around.

Sunday

I was supposed to fly to Burlington, Vermont via LaGuardia Airport in New York City. This much was clear. If all had gone according to plan, I would've been to Burlington in the early evening, just in time to make it to the local Sheraton Inn.

All did not go according to plan.

Remember Snowpocalypse that hit Chicago about a month ago? Well, Snowpocalypse's little brother, Snowmaggedon decided to hit New England on Sunday-Monday.

I arrived at LaGuardia about an hour later than planned due to a delay in Chicago, blissfully unaware of what awaited me. It was raining in New York, sure, but how bad could that be?

Apparently, bad enough (it was spitting, not even really raining yet) for them to take my gate-checked carry-on and send it to the baggage claim, because that's United's policy for bad weather. That's right, even though I had a plane leaving in less than an hour on a different airline (United/US Airways have some sort of agreement, so I was going between the two), they sent my CARRY-ON to the baggage claim. The United lady at the gate, copping the typical New York City "I don't give a s***" attitude, studied her hot pink nails and told me that there was nothing I could do; I better just run fast.

So I ran fast.

I then had to catch a tram to get to a different terminal (because Lord knows, when you have scheduled connections, they can't be close). I got through security and to the gate about twenty minutes before the flight was scheduled to take off, had it not been delayed by another hour. That was fine, until a few minutes later, it was canceled due to snow. Uh-oh.

I called the attorney I was supposed to meet (whose Burlington flight had also been canceled, though he was connecting through Washington, DC), and we both determined that we'd meet in Manchester, NH and drive to Burlington on Monday morning. I managed to get myself on a Machester flight that was going to leave at 3:00pm. At this point, it was around noon.

Finally, the Manchester flight arrived. It didn't board until after 5:00pm. Fine. I get on, the doors are closed, and we are told that we are overweight. Three people need to get off the plane. I figured that I had nowhere to be until around 2:00pm the next day, so I could take a later flight (scheduled for 8:00pm). I took a $250 voucher for US Airways and stepped off the plane.

Now, understand that by this point, the storm that was walloping Vermont with snow had made it to New York, except it was in the form of blinding sheets of rain. That Manchester flight took off, somehow, and presumably made it, since I didn't hear anything about everyone dying (and I saw the pilots and flight attendant at Manchester the next day).

I went to the bar, had a Guinness, drew some pictures, and read my book. Then, at 8:00pm, my flight got pushed to 9:00pm. Then to 10:00pm. Then to 11:00pm. Finally, it got pushed to 12:50am for a departure. I was convinced it was going to be canceled, but I couldn't give up now.

Sure enough, right after midnight, it was canceled. I put in a frantic call to our travel people, and a lady managed to get me a bed in a Holiday Inn about two miles from LaGuardia. The airline put me on an 8:00am flight to Manchester for the next morning.

I waited 45 minutes for the Holiday Inn shuttle to arrive (when it did, it was loaded with ladies from Dallas complaining about how difficult their days had been...they had no idea), got to my room around 1:30am, discovered that the phone didn't work, so set the room alarm for 6:00am. Why didn't I use my phone? Well, I had forgotten my charger (oops) so needed to keep the battery for meeting the attorney in Manchester.

Monday

I woke up at 8:15am the next morning, the alarm never having gone off. I still don't know how that happened.

Frantically, I called the travel people who got me set up on an 11:25am flight to Manchester, which I thankfully made. Let me tell you, after about 15 total hours in the US Airways terminal at LaGuardia (gates 1-10), I am an expert on the place. I never want to see it again in my life.

Got to Manchester two hours late (flight was delayed in LaGuardia by two hours. I don't think they have the ability to send a flight out on time) and met the attorney there. The last time I had been to that airport was when I was a senior in high school and had visited family and schools in New England. My mom's cousin is a teacher outside of Manchester, and I was hoping to meet up with her, but due to my delays and her having just returned from Belize that day, we weren't able to work it out.

Our rental car had a Rhode Island plate (which is sad, because I've never been to Rhode Island and really want to, just to say that I did). We headed out to Burlington, having been told by New Hampshirefolk that the snow was still insane up there. Great.

At a rest stop, we discovered that New Hampshire has state-owned liquor stores. I have stored this information away in my mind, as it may be important to my future dealings with New England.

Then we got lost somehow, and a friendly lady and a guy with a really thick New England accent told us how to get where we wanted to go. The directions were appropriately confusing and seemingly complicated, but--lo and behold--dropped us exactly where we wanted to be. We made it to Burlington without any real problems (snow had died down), noting that people from Vermont like to drive really, really slowly, even when the roads are clear and that plows in Vermont really, really like to plow the shoulders of the interstates, even when the lanes aren't clear.

The Rest of the Trip

I made it to within viewing distance of the Canadian border. There's a fence. I thought about jumping it since I forgot my passport, but decided that might be more trouble than it's worth. We went to a pizza joint in the middle of nowhere New York (actually, Champlain, New York, a cute little town) where a friendly waitress took care of us. There was a cat at the window who she said just kind of hung around. If we could catch it (something no one had been able to do in the past), we could have it.

Turned out, the cat wasn't so hard to catch. It walked right up to us and let me pick it up and pet it. Had I really wanted to be the new owner of a load, fluffy black kitty, I could've been. But we left him where he was and smoked some cigars, since we had nothing better to do.

Then today, we hung out in adorable little Burlington. It's a cute town, which reminded me of Asheville, North Carolina, because it was filled with artsy, uber-liberal, outdoorsy people (apparently called Granolas). I bought a shirt that simply says 'Vermont' (because when am I ever again going to have that opportunity?), and we ate real Vermont maple syrup, drank real Vermont apple cider, and spoke to Vermonters with real French accents.

Oh, and by the way, did you know that "Vermont" is trademarked? My shirt has a little 'TM' after 'Vermont', so it must be true.

Well, that's about it for my crazy last few days. I saw real ice fisherman, too. Did I mention that? No moose, though. Only signs for the following crossings: slow children, bear, deer, horse, cow, moose, children, pedestrians, rock. Actually, it was for rocks falling, not crossing.

I'm not going to work tomorrow, because I lost Sunday. So, as my roommate just pointed out, I'm taking back Sunday.

Over and out.

Welcome to AfghANDYstan

2011-03-05T18:14:00.007-06:00

(right click on the picture and select 'view image' to make it bigger and more legible!)

From afghANDYstan

RIP Frank Buckles

2011-02-28T10:57:00.002-06:00

So, I haven't written anything for a really long time. Sorry about that. Anyway, some sad news that I just saw: the last American veteran of World War I has died. Frank Buckles, at 110, was the final one of 4,734,991 Americans to have served in the Great War. He was a Missouri farm boy, born in 1901, who served in France from 1917-1920. In World War II, he happened to be in the Philippines and was held by the Japanese as a civilian POW for three years. He held no particular distinction in the Army; that is, he didn't do anything more remarkable than almost all the millions of other men with which he served. It seems fitting, however, that the last standing veteran of a war should be just a normal guy, since those 'normal guys' are the ones who really do the work of war, yet their overwhelming contribution is often the least celebrated.

As an aside, there are still two remaining World War I vets in the world. I imagine that in the next few years, they too will pass, and the world will keep on revolving, barely noting it.

Jim Henson's House For Sale!

2011-02-11T13:19:00.004-06:00

Calling all people with $28 million lying around the house: Jim Henson's former Manhattan workshop is for sale. It was here where many of the Muppets we all know and love were created and built and tested. While it's been out of the Henson fold since 2003 (and owned by a Seagram's executive), it's still got the giant 1980's Muppet mural in the lobby (as far as I know...someone would've reported if that were gone, right?).

Here's a photo of Jim and Kermit in front of the mural:

Now, let the bidding begin!

Yesterday At The Art Museum and Sculpture and Stuff

2011-02-05T11:10:00.006-06:00

Yesterday was the last free day at the Art Institute of Chicago for the month, so Emily and I went after work. It's always a pleasant place to be, though since they remodeled it, everything kind of throws me off.

Whenever I go there, I really enjoy sketching sculptures. It's a great chance to play with light and shadow and to be able to understand how a figure's different protuberances change as you walk around it. In the past, I've enjoyed the Lincoln in thought by Daniel Chester French and Nathan Hale by Frederick Macmonnies. This time around, there were two that I had either never seen or never noticed, which is disappointing, since they are both amazing. They are called "Saïd Abdullah of the Mayac, Kingdom of the Darfur" and "African Venus," both by Charles Cordier.

I really enjoy sculpture in which a character is brought out. It's a very subtle art--the tilt of the head, the slight variations of the mouth, or the angle of the eyebrows are just a few of the hundreds of tiny tweaks that carry a figure's attitude. Too often, sculptures become boring classical relics:

The work itself is impressive, but there is no feeling to it. The figure is certainly figure, but it isn't alive. Now, the Romans advanced over the Greeks by making people actually look like people instead of idealized versions of people.

Greek (boring, idealized):

Roman (interesting, realistic):

But the Romans still weren't big on giving an attitude to a sculpture (the po'ed old guy above notwithstanding). That's why I like the two in the Art Institute so much. The bust of Saïd Abdullah is so proud, do dignified. He looks like he's staring into you, ready to speak. The African Venus is proud, too, but she doesn't look like she's going to speak. She just seems to be looking down on you. It's awesome.

So, I drew Saïd Abullah. I really like how both pictures came out, even though the front view doesn't look very much like the sculpture. The expression I got in my drawing is more inquisitive than challenging, mostly because of his eyebrows looking less furrowed and his head being tilted to the side, unlike the original.

Anyway, enjoy!

I'm Sorry For This

2011-02-03T17:56:00.004-06:00

I just watched the music video for Earth Wind and Fire's Let's Groove, and I just can't handle it. I apologize that you haven't seen it until now. The retro cosmo-funk just gets my groove on like nobody's business.

Snowpocalypse Now

2011-02-01T22:07:00.006-06:00

Chicago is being socked by snow as I write. Who will survive? When will the four snowmen of the apocalypse appear? I can't say. I can say, however, that it is accompanied by thunder and that the federal government in Chicago, in its grand idiocy, isn't going to close its offices tomorrow.

UPDATE: My apologies to the federal government. They did close their offices, even though they didn't do so until around 6am this morning, after everything else in the city had come to a standstill. Good work, Feds. Good work.

Sometimes Rioters Can Do Good Things

2011-01-28T22:58:00.003-06:00

If you ever read the news, you may have noticed that Egypt is on the verge of collapse. Is it really? That's a good question. A few years ago, people were predicting the fall of the Iranian government, but it never materialized. Will the same happen in Egypt? Who knows.

There are reasons to be concerned about a new regime and reasons to be hopeful for one. I have no idea what will happen, so half a world away, I'll just wait and watch.

I can say that I'm incredibly happy to have been able to see Egypt before all of this craziness. It seems that riots and disasters follow me in the wake of my trips: Istanbul in 2008, Greece in 2008-2010, Kenya in 2010 (though, in all fairness, most of their riots were already over; I was there when they ratified their new constitution, though, which was pretty awesome), and now Egypt.

I don't know Cairo very well--partially because we didn't spend much time exploring the place--but, our hotel was very close to the Egyptian Museum and the NDP Party headquarters. So, when I heard that the headquarters were on fire, my first worry was for the priceless artifacts in the Egyptian Museum, among them the thousands of items found in Tutankhamun's tomb. To lose those after thousands of years would be absolutely tragic not just for Egypt, but for the entire world.

That's why I was so happy to read that one of the first places the Egyptian Army went during the night was to secure the Museum. Apparently, before they had arrived, a group of rioters had surrounded the place in a protective chain to keep looters from savaging the collection. When the Army arrived, the rioters allowed them to access and secure the place.

It's such a relief that the Egyptian people understand the importance of the items that they steward. I mean, I guess I understood they did, but I'm really happy to see them put their money where their mouths are. Way to go, Egyptians!

Guh-WHAAA?

2011-01-27T12:07:00.003-06:00

I don't know why I began this post with 'guh'. It's probably to express the noise I made when I saw that Lee Unkrich (director of Toy Story 3) has posted photos of TS3 characters that were printed using a color 3D printer.

Beyond being generally cool, I'm wigging out over the fact that one can print things in 3D! And with such detail!

Of course, this ignited a massive internet search. Below is a good pseudo-explanatory video of how the process works. Basically, the printer takes the 3D image information and lays down successive (thin!) layers of resin to form the image. My first question was: "what if there is something that is hanging over (like an elephant's trunk)? How does that get printed without falling off?" The answer is that a waxy resin shell encases the actual object. As the layers are placed down, the shell builds up around it. You then remove the shell by either melting it off or washing it off.

Genius!

Tezcatlipoca

2011-01-25T20:25:00.001-06:00

A few years ago Emily went to Thailand and Vietnam with her (now roommate), Jill. While there, they met up with a bunch of Seventh Day Adventists. One of them happened to be an aspiring animator. When she returned, she told me about it and sent me his senior project, entitled "Tezcatlipoca". It depicts the Aztec god Tezcatlipoca descending from the stars in the form of a jaguar, and it is very well done. I had it saved to my iTunes for a long time, but just today, on the blog On Animation, there it was as a link! I hadn't watched it in a long time. So, now, two years later, I'm posting it, too.

Facial Expressions

2011-01-25T12:44:00.003-06:00

Tracy Butler at Lackydaisycats has a great ditty on expressions for characters. Click on the picture below to see it in full. I certainly know that I too easily make the 'smarm brow' that she says artists should 'unlearn'.

Jim Henson's Fantastic World

2011-01-24T16:17:00.008-06:00

On Friday Emily and I went to see the Museum of Science and Industry's exhibit on "Jim Henson's Fantastic World." Unfortunately, if you want to see it, you'll have to find its next stop, since it left Chicago on Sunday.

The exhibit was breathtaking. The moment you walk in to the first room--circular and painted with an alternating green/lime green pattern reminiscent of a certain Muppet's collar--Kermit the Frog greets you. It's an original Kermit puppet from the 1970's, just sitting on a log, happy as a clam. When I saw him, I could've started crying hysterically, but I held myself together.

"Hi-ho!"

All around are early sketches made by Jim Henson. You realize when viewing them that his mind was constantly moving, making connections between language, art, music, movement, and mechanics. He took puns and literalized them into characters. He took music and visualized it with animation. He took homonyms and built them into satirical worlds.

Each successive room goes through his career (somewhat) chronologically. You see the posters he made as a college student for events on campus. You see characters and sketches from "Hey Cinderella!", "Sam and Friends", and the commercials he worked on in his early days. You see Rowlf the Dog--the first nationally-known Muppet (due to his appearances on The Jimmy Dean Show).

All that is followed by The Muppet Show (including the Mahna-Mahna guy and his pink friends) and his different films. Miss Piggy is there in her wedding dress from The Muppets Take Manhattan.

As a little break, there is a puppet theater where museum staff perform shows throughout the day. There is also a touching 18 minute film "Jim in His Own Words" (or something like that) that chronicles his entire career.

This section is followed by a little foray into Jim's earlier work in Time Piece in the 1960's, followed by Sesame Street, including Ernie and Bert and sketches and storyboards for various characters and scenes. The early concepts for Big Bird and Oscar are especially neat. A little girl came in and saw the Oscar concept and exclaimed "It's Randall!".

Notice that Jim drew himself inside the puppet

The last room contains information and items from his other projects: Labyrinth, The Dark Crystal, and Fraggle Rock.

I think it's a pretty uncontroversial point that everyone, whether consciously or unconsciously, chooses icons for various aspects of their lives--the people who have inspired them to act in certain ways, to fight for certain beliefs, and to accomplish certain things. Often, they are people we know: parents, grandparents, friends, teachers, pastors. Sometimes they are people who inhabit our world but aren't personally familiar: artists, politicians, academicians. In some cases, however, they are people whose time was before our own, whose lives were unknown to us as they happened, and whose legacies can only be understood from what remains of their work.

Jim Henson died two days after I turned four years old. I venture to guess that when it happened, I neither noticed nor cared. As one of its principal architects departed this life, I sat comfortably watching Sesame Street. I'd like to think that he was mindful of the impact he was having on so many young lives.

In his own words (from a foreword to an unpublished book, 1986):

Over the years, I've evolved my own set of beliefs and attitudes - as we all have - that I feel works for me.

I believe that life is basically a process of growth - that we go through many lives, choosing those situations and problems that we will learn through.

I believe that we form our own lives, that we create our own reality, and that everything works out for the best. I know I drive some people crazy with what seems to be ridiculous optimism, but it has always worked out for me.

I believe in taking a positive attitude toward the world, toward people, and toward my work. I think I'm here for a purpose. I think it's likely that we all are, but I'm only sure about myself. I try to tune myself in to whatever it is that I'm supposed to be, and I try to think of myself as a part of all of us - all mankind and all life. I find it's not easy to keep these lofty thoughts in mind as the day goes by, but it certainly helps me a great deal to start out this way.

At some point in my life I decided, rightly or wrongly, that there are many situations in this life that I can't do much about - acts of terrorism, feelings of nationalistic prejudice, cold war, etc. - so what I should do is concentrate on the situations that my energy can affect.

I believe that we can use television and film to be an influence for good; that we can help to shape the thoughts of children and adults in a positive way. As it has turned out, I'm very proud of some of the work we've done, and I think we can do many more good things.

When I was young, my ambition was to be one of the people who made a difference in this world. My hope still is to leave the world a little bit better for my having been here.

It's a wonderful life and I love it.

Now, most people enjoy the Muppets. They go about their daily lives and sometimes see a funny clip or an old movie with Kermit the Frog and laugh at the entertainment it provides. What they don't recognize is how much thought and care Jim Henson put into what his characters represented. Sure, the Swedish Chef is hilarious, and the idea of a pig and a frog as opposite romantic leads is ridiculous. However, when viewed as a whole, Jim's ouvre--from Sam and Friends to The Jim Henson Hour--is about bringing education and awareness to children and laughter to adults. And what can't be overstated enough is that that was no accident.

Have You Seen The Google Today?

2011-01-20T14:00:00.003-06:00

If you didn't realize, today is the day every four years that we inaugurate a new (or re-inaugurate an old) president. Because we happen to be between those four years, there isn't a new president today. However, there are many, many presidential inauguration anniversaries. The most notable being the 50th anniversary of John F. Kennedy's Inaugural Address ("Ask not what your country can do for you..." ring a bell?).

However, it is also the anniversary of (almost) every president's inauguration since the 1930's. So, below I post as many of the inaugurals that I could find on Youtube, beginning with the famous Kennedy address (and, as a side note, Eisenhower's and Reagan's second addresses were on Jan. 21 due to Jan. 20 falling on a Sunday):

Roosevelt 1937

Roosevelt 1941

Roosevelt 1945

Truman 1949

Eisenhower 1953

Eisenhower 1957

Johnson 1965 (not complete)

Nixon 1969

Nixon 1972

Carter 1976 (not complete)

Reagan 1981

Reagan 1985

Bush 1989

Clinton 1993

Clinton 1997

Bush 2001

Bush 2005 (I can't find a video or audio file of it...)

Obama 2009

Nurse: Revenge of the Makeup

2011-01-18T22:23:00.005-06:00

A few nights ago, Emily's roommate, Jill, spent a night in the hospital because of [HIPAA redaction]. It wasn't fun for her, especially because there were not one, but two Ben Stiller movies to choose from. How on earth should anyone be expected to make that kind of decision when incapacitated? We watched Rick Steves' Europe instead. He was in Barcelona, which was okay, I guess. Another friend saved the day by bringing in some Us Weekly, People, and Redbook for our enjoyment. I looked through the Redbook and learned many, many things about women that I did not know (and shan't share here...buy your own copy at your local grocer and find out for yourself!)

I liked that alot.

The greatest reward of the whole experience, however, was the nurse. Her name was Anne (or something like that), and she was quite possibly the most remarkable woman I have ever seen. I mean, don't get me wrong. Helen Keller and Mother Teresa certainly had their moments, but I don't think anything could compare to Anne.

We thought she was Filipino, but that was just a guess. Her English was less than stellar (which made Jill really comfortable, being in her care and all). But those are just side notes. What really made Anne special was her sense of fashion. Imagine this: overly tanned skin, pastel pink lipstick, heavy duty mascara, and powder blue eye shade. As if that weren't enough, she had bleached blonde hair in a really strange cut that seemed like a combination of Sally Brown and this picture of Patrick Swayze with a mullet that I found. Add Mimi from The Drew Carey Show to the mix, and you can pretty much imagine how delighted we were to have gotten to know Anne.

All I can say is, Anna Wintour, look out!

*This picture does not do her justice.

This Looks AMAZING

2011-01-15T20:58:00.001-06:00

Courtesy of Aaron:

The Beauty of Pixar

2011-01-12T12:11:00.002-06:00

This has been bee-bopping (sp?) around the interwebs for a few weeks now, but it's a great video of clips from all eleven Pixar films. Sometimes the editing is a little clunky, but overall, it is very well done. It's incredible to see the breadth of character--yet continuity of style--the studio has managed over the past 15 years.

Sunday!

2011-01-11T16:46:00.007-06:00

I had quite a Sunday this week. In fact, it was such an intense day that I had to use Monday as a day to not do the stuff that I did on Sunday.

What?

Anyway, so I'm a greeter at our church. That means I smile real big, open the door, and shake people's hands as they arrive on Sunday mornings.

I've always had this desire, though...

Of course, there wouldn't be anything there. I'd just want to see what the random people would do when I scream bloody murder. Sometimes, I might say "It's Godzilla!" or "Killer Honey Bees!" or "Barry Manilow!" Depending on people's reactions, they would either get prime church seating or a trip to the ER. So fun!

Well, I wasn't brave enough to try that this Sunday. Instead, we were having an all-church lunch after the service. When I arrived, a friend said "Josh, we might not have enough food! Go to Popeye's and buy a bunch of chicken!" I, of course, obliged.

When I arrived at Popeye's (side note: did you know that Popeye's beat KFC in a national double-blind taste test??), I ordered 50 pieces of chicken through the bulletproof glass and then waited for it to be ready. The friendly cashier gave me a drink on the house. I was happy.

A few minutes later, however, some guy walked into the Popeye's. It all seemed fine. He ordered a Po' Boy and was waiting for it when another guy came in. That guy turned to me and said "Hey, man, you want some weed?"

I politely demurred, so he went to the next guy. "Hey, man, you want some weed?" The Po' Boy guy looked at it and then said "Nah, I already got enough of my own."

So then the weed guy went up to the glass and asked the Popeye's cashier if he wanted any. The guy looked at it and then bought it through the little hole in the glass where you pass money.

Go figure--I saw my first ever drug deal go down!

After that, we had the church lunch. The pastor's kid is at that post-infant pre-toddler stage where he doesn't know what words mean, but he repeats anything you say. So, a friend of mine told the pastor that his son was going to be a politician. He was confused, so she picked him (the kid, not the pastor) up and put him on the table and said "Hello, my people!" The baby repeated "Hello, mah peepuh." Then she said "I'm going to be mayor of Chicago!" and he repeated "mauh Chee-go". Then he was done with all that and went down on all fours, pretending to be a dog or something.

It...was...adorable.

After church, we went to a bookstore and for a walk before going to the sketchiest sushi joint I've ever seen: Lawrence Fish Market. You have to go. It's super cheap, super weird, and super delicious. When we walked in, the shop was replete with (a) a seat that appeared to have been removed from the back of a minivan and placed in front of the cash register, (b) a book on learning English, (c) a bowl with a bunch of splatters on the wall behind it that looked unnervingly like blood, and (d) a whole frozen octopus.

Then we went back to Emily's place to eat. I really, really wanted to get The Dolphin: Story of a Dreamer from the Redbox. It calls itself "the greatest story ever told." How could you not want to see that??

But Emily and my friend Bridget said no. So instead we watch How To Train Your Dragon. Oh, well.

*An enterprising reader may note that in one of the pictures, I gave myself six fingers on my right hand.

Dick Winters, 1918-2011

2011-01-10T10:55:00.003-06:00

I found out today that on January 2, Major Richard "Dick" Winters passed away. He was 92 years old.

Major Winters was a relative unknown until Stephen Ambrose's 1992 history of the WWII service of Company E ("Easy"), 2nd Battalion, 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 101st Airborne Division, entitled Band of Brothers. The story is one of those that has to be read to be believed. The men of Easy Company--and their comrades throughout the 101st--parachuted into Normandy in the wee morning hours of D-Day. They cleared the Germans from Normandy. They parachuted into Holland during Operation Market Garden. They were surrounded, yet held out, around the Belgian town of Bastogne during the Battle of the Bulge. They marched on, and took, Berchtesgaden--Adolf Hitler's summer retreat. They helped liberate concentration camps.

And then those survived came home. Some went to college, while others went to work. They married, had children, bought homes, and continued life, like all our World War II veterans, unsung and dignified. Major Winters, after winning the Distinguished Service Cross for his actions in Normandy, and after having led Easy Company for much of the war, went back to his home in Pennsylvania, where he eventually settled down on a quiet plot of land to live his life. Even today, his actions for taking out a number of German 88mm cannons behind enemy lines on D-Day are taught at West Point as ideal on-the-ground tactics.

Winters, from all that I've seen and read of him, was quiet, sharp, and self-effacing. He spent much of his life extolling his comrades-in-arms. I'm sorry he's gone. The world--quite literally--is better because of him, and ultimately, as a legacy, what more could one ask for?

Unicorn vs. Narwhal

2011-01-07T22:45:00.003-06:00

An epic tale of "love, war, and triumph over adversity" by Adrian Molina. I recently discovered it's* brilliance.

*Yes, this is supposed to be 'it's', because I am saying that the film itself is the definition of brilliance, not simply that it displays the quality of something brilliant.

Merry Orthodox Christmas Eve, With Bonus Musings on Missing Limbs!

2011-01-06T14:23:00.010-06:00

Clearly, I haven't gotten over the fact that it's January now and Christmas has ended. Each year, I'm the rabid dog who guards the tree from being taken down until early February, so we'll see how that goes this year. Even if normal Christmas is over, though, a friend of mine converted to eastern Orthodoxy yesterday afternoon, so I feel that I can claim her new Christmas as my own, at least for blogging purposes.

So, I just discovered (courtesy of Drawn!) Nathan Stapley's hi-larious comic about himself over at Double Fine Action Comics. Example:

Before normal Christmas, he did his own reinterpretation of A Christmas Carol, the entirety of which I have pasted below:

I was rolling on the ground laughing (OK...I was quietly chortling at my desk) when I saw Scrooge's reaction to Tiny Tim: "What's wrong with that awesome kid?" And the fact that instead of being simply a gimpy little boy, he has a disease that all his limbs will fall off until he dies.

Which made me remember about the Moody Church Christmas Festiva l that Emily and I went to this year. It was wicked cold and snowy and gross, and I almost wussed out, but Emily wanted to go, and I felt like I'd never live it down if I opted to skip. So, we went, and it was one of the best Christmas concerts I've ever been to--choir, full orchestra, handbells, carols, poinsettias, and a guy who was missing an arm.

He was sitting right in front of us, so I could totally stare the whole time and he wouldn't notice. So, full disclosure, I have this thing where in another life I think it would be cool to be totally different than I am now, kind of like some people do for midgets or my friend does for Messianic Jews or Emily's dad does for Aretha Franklin. Except for me, I think it would be incredible to be missing a limb or two. Not that I actually want that to befall me now, but in a weird theoretical sense I'd like to be able to play piano with my toes or wear super awesome prosthetics that are kind of like dinosaur legs and then have a made-for-TV movie about overcoming the odds and whatever. I always wished, though, that the prosthetics could be as good as they are in Star Wars so that I could switch out to a real hand again whenever I wanted to. But when I felt like it, I could have a laser cannon or a drill or a dictionary for an arm instead. Alas, technology has not yet caught up with my dreams. Someone should get on that.

That means my reaction to this guy at the concert was a lot like Scrooge's to Tiny Tim in the comic: "That guy is awesome." Afterward, I tried to nonchalantly gauge Emily's interest in missing limbs, so our conversation went something like:

Me: Wow...that was the best rendition of 'O Holy Night' I've ever heard.
Em: Yeah, my dad was totally right when he suggested we see this.
Me: Yeah, I'm glad we came.
Em: Me, too.
Me: So, did you see how the guy in front of us was missing his right arm?
Em: Uh...(awkward sideways glance and 'I'm confused' smile)...no...
Me: (way too excited) It was so cool to see how he would carry his program and move stuff around and...
Em: (worried expression)
Me: Oh, yeah, but 'O Holy Night' was amazing. (put hands in pockets and casually glance around the room for something that isn't missing a limb to stare at).

Somewhere out there today, there's a hipster who is missing an arm (oh, yeah, did I mention that he was a hipster?). In spite of that, he has my respect.

So, Merry Christmas, Orthodox people! I hope your celebration doesn't involve you actually losing any limbs.

My Name Is Josh, And I Have A Problem

2011-01-05T17:05:00.000-06:00

In A Charlie Brown Christmas, Lucy, playing the role of psychiatrist, tells a depressed Charlie Brown that "as they say on TV, the mere fact you realize you need help indicates that you are not too fargone."

I'm here to say that I need help. Why?

I think I might have an addiction.

To Korean Dramas.

There, I said it. KDramas have grabbed a hold of me. Terrific.

But what is a KDrama, you ask?

In Korea, TV shows are done in a different way than in the United States. In the US, we have a show that runs for an undetermined number of seasons. Each season has roughly 22 episodes, usually unplanned for the entirety of the run. That is, when season 4, episode 1 begins, season 4, episode 22 isn't yet written (though writers may have a rough outline of the season's progression). Additionally, there is no specific ending point. A show gets canceled (or its writers get bored), and in response, the writers create a 'series finale' to tie up any loose ends. This means that many shows limp along for an extra season or two instead of ending on their highest and most plausible notes.

Korean shows, on the other hand, begin with a predetermined number of episodes and a prewritten story. This allows them to be full and contained. Instead of a 'what silly adventures will our favorite characters have this week?' It is 'in what way will the characters develop in this episode'. The difference seems subtle but is actually pretty major. It's basically what we would view as a long miniseries in the States.

I'm currently in the middle/end of my first one, and I'm hooked. It's called Coffee Prince (or 1st Shop of Coffee Prince), and I won't ruin the details, but the basic premise is: what happens when a tomboy girl pretends to be a guy to get jobs but then falls in love with a man she works with who thinks she's a guy? Follow that? It's full of angst (girl wants guy to know she's a girl but is afraid to tell him, guy thinks girl is a guy and starts falling for her and is dealing with the possibility that he's gay (even though he's always liked girls), guy has to deal with altering his view of girl when it is revealed that she's a woman) and some great side stories. I would totally recommend watching them.

It also displays a lot of differences between American and Korean culture, such as the importance of respect for your elders, the complexity of traditional women's roles vs. modern women's roles, and the nuances of familial/romantic relationships. It is all insanely good, so you should watch it. In fact, here's the link. Click it. CLICK IT.

www.hulu.com/coffee-prince

Merry Orthodox Christmas!

2011-01-05T15:03:00.002-06:00

It's Christmas in Armenia tomorrow and in the rest of the Orthodox world on Jan. 7. Thought I'd preempt it with an image vaguely reminiscent of this one:

Quand Soudain L'Amour Est Là

2011-01-04T13:55:00.002-06:00

Encore un extrait du Roi Lion, maintenant c'est la chanson "Quand Soudain l'Amour est Là"

Ça me plaît!

Il Vit En Toi

2011-01-03T18:40:00.004-06:00

Or, "He Lives In You." It's an amazing video from the French cast of Le Roi Lion ("The Lion King").

Lyrics (with my very, very rough translation in italics):

La nuit est* l'esprit de la vie
The night is the spirit of life
Appelle
Calling
Mambella
Mambella
Et une voix comme l'enfant qui a peur
And a voice like a child who is scared
Répond
Replies
Oh mambella
Oh, mambella
Il vit en toi
He lives in you
Il vit en moi
He lives in me
Toujours il veille
Forever he keeps watch
Sur ce que tu vois
On that which you see
Dans l'eau qui part comme un miroir
In the water that leaves like a mirror
Même dans ton reflet**
The exact same [way] in your reflection
Il vit en toi
He lives in you

*This must be 'est' ('is') instead of 'et' ('and', as in the original English) if the second line is the singular 'appelle'. However, if the second line is the plural 'appellent' (pron. the same as 'appelle'), it would be 'et'. I've chosen to make it singular, since I like the idea of 'the night' and 'the spirit of life' being one and the same (representing Mufasa, the deceased father) , paralleling the singular, fearful respondent voice (representing Simba, the living son). Different from the English, but a better point made.
**I went for a more word-by-word translation here. The point that it is making, in less clunkly language would be: "...in the water which, like your image in a mirror, leaves, he lives in you."

Sauerman Family Christmas Recap

2010-12-31T14:16:00.002-06:00

I hope everyone out there had a lovely Christmas and will have a nice New Year's tonight. This Christmas was excellent, and full of family ridiculousness. I'd like to recap it briefly for you:

1. Cousin and his fiancee touching each other's faces

My cousin got engaged a few weeks ago, and in case anyone forgot, he's really into her, as evinced by the fact that they were constantly touching each others' faces all day.

2. Uncle Don being flammable

...and by the weirdness of the English language, also inflammable. He's on oxygen now, and, per his usual tradition, didn't wait to open his presents, but just kind of ripped them open, sighed, didn't thank or acknowledge anyone, and then (I think) fell asleep.

3. Grandma tried some cocktails

My grandmother is kind of loud and outrageous anyway, but on Christmas Eve, she got a few glasses of wine and some cocktails in her. "How much vodka did you say was in this?" was a question she asked quite a few times to me. It didn't really make her act that much different than her usual self, but, you know.

4. Matching pajamas!

My family is now officially owned by the Walt Disney Company, because my mom bought matching robes/pajamas for each of us. Needless to say, Christmas was even more adorable than usual this year.

Two Days!

2010-12-23T09:01:00.001-06:00

Sorry, I've been doing other things than blogging lately. 'Tis the season for...uh...lots of other stuff.

I Don't Know Who You Are...

2010-12-15T14:08:00.002-06:00

15 Days...

2010-12-10T12:53:00.000-06:00

http://www.shoeboxblog.com/?p=22036

Easy Being Green, It Is Not

2010-12-10T12:50:00.003-06:00

Ha...from Peter de Sève's blog. Wonder if Kermit and Yoda knew each other?

Thought of You

2010-12-08T09:35:00.002-06:00

I keep watching this video over and over again. The music is excellent, and the animation is stunning. I can't peel my eyes from it.

Thought of You from Ryan J Woodward on Vimeo.

Notice how the shadow stays with the man until the very end, when the vision of the woman becomes real. Her shadow appears, and his fades, as he becomes a memory to her as well.

UPDATE: There's a making-of featurette. So cool to see how this was done!

Thought of You - Behind the Scenes Preview - ROUGH CUT from Cambell Christensen on Vimeo.

Goodbye, Mr. Santo

2010-12-03T10:58:00.003-06:00

The Chicago Cubs lost their biggest fan today, with the news that Ron Santo, former third baseman and longtime radio color commentator, died of complications due to bladder cancer. I have no idea who will now sit alongside Pat Hughes in the WGN radio box at Wrigley, but that doesn't matter for now. Baseball has lost a great, and we here in Chicago are going to miss him.

RIP Irvin Kershner

2010-12-01T16:18:00.002-06:00

I missed this in the news for the last few days, but Irvin Kershner, director of The Empire Strikes Back (by far the best of the Star Wars franchise), died on November 27 of lung cancer. He was 87. Best wishes and condolences to his family.

Whither Has Gone the Princess?

2010-12-01T14:27:00.004-06:00

The L.A. Times has an article about the shift in Disney animation, which now, for one of the first times in its history, has no plans for any 'fairy tale' movies in the foreseeable future.

"Films and genres do run a course," said Pixar Animation Studios chief Ed Catmull, who along with director John Lasseter oversees Disney Animation. "They may come back later because someone has a fresh take on it … but we don't have any other musicals or fairy tales lined up." Indeed, Catmull and Lasseter killed two other fairy tale movies that had been in development, "The Snow Queen" and "Jack and the Beanstalk."
...
Catmull said he and Lasseter have been encouraging filmmakers to break with safe and predictable formulas and push creative boundaries.

"If you say to somebody, 'You should be doing fairy tales,' it's like saying, 'Don't be risky,'" Catmull said. "We're saying, 'Tell us what's driving you.'"

I think that, especially in the short term, this is probably a good thing for Disney. It's not that princess movies are a bad thing. It's simply that Disney's already done them. It's a tried and true, fill-in-the-blanks kind of storyline (though it sounds like Tangled is trying to change it up a little bit) that the creative heads want to move beyond. It also--and maybe I'm just being too cynical here--gives the distinct impression that Disney simply wants to sell more products to little girls

Some of Disney's best animated films have been serious, fairy-less stories. Think The Lion King or Bambi or 101 Dalmatians. It'll be good to take away the crutch and see what other great ideas they can come up with.

Meeting Doodles

2010-12-01T12:02:00.003-06:00

More meetings, more doodles, including Catiline from Cicero Denounces Catiline, a rather confused Santa Claus, a pseudo-self portrait, and some mood poses...

So...Have You Ever Been in Gang Crossfire?

2010-11-30T18:50:00.003-06:00

Because I have! Kind of.

What?!

Yesterday, I called off work because I am getting over a residual sore throat from the weekend. However, I wasn't so out of it to be purely bedridden. My roommate and I decided to go out to one of our favorite diners, Daley's, for breakfast. I've been there about a hundred times, and, even though it's in a sort of shady area, nothing has ever happened.

As we reached the entranceway, though, a car flew by, shots suddenly rang out, and people started ducking into buildings. An older gentleman, my roommate, and I were huddled together, crouched right outside the door. The old man started saying to me, "Open the door, open the door!" So I did, and we all slipped into the restaurant.

I don't think anyone was hurt (thank goodness), but it was pretty frightening nonetheless. I mean, I've been around gunfire before. In fact, I remember being part of a summer program on the West Side of Chicago a few years ago, sitting out on the rooftop sometime around July 4, trying to figure out which explosions we heard were gunshots and which were fireworks (and, fyi, fireworks have more of an echo, gunshots are sharper). But I've never been at the intersection where the stuff was occurring. It really sobers you about what goes on in the city and what some people have to live with every day.

The cashier in the restaurant, as we scuttled in half-crouched, nonchalantly looked out and said "Are they shootin' again?"

Then today, when I told one of my coworkers (a 27 year Navy vet) about it, saying "I mean, I've never been shot at before," he responded--without sarcasm--"Really??" Sorry, dude, but I grew up in Indiana. Shooting at each other is not one of our usual pastimes.

Remembering The Iron Lady

2010-11-22T12:30:00.003-06:00

Today marks the twentieth anniversary of Margaret Thatcher's downfall from the premiership of the United Kingdom. While often forgotten in the U.S. (and not even known by most people in my own generation), the career of 'the Iron Lady' stands out as one of the most impressive dossiers of principled accomplishment this century, perhaps only beaten by Franklin Roosevelt's New Deal. Even the likes of Ronald Reagan did not accomplish for his country so much as she did for hers. Like FDR and Churchill, Reagan and Thatcher were two extraordinary politicians, united across the Atlantic, each leaving a continually echoing legacy. When Ronald Reagan left the presidency, the country in his wake had been radically altered in the rightward direction. Without Reagan conservatism, you'd have no Bill Clinton declaring that 'the era of big government [was] over'. You'd have no George W. Bush, and you'd have no Barack Obama.

Similarly, without Maggie Thatcher, there would have been no Tony Blair. There would've been no New Labour, no Gordon Brown, and no David Cameron. Most importantly, however, is that the trajectory of the United Kingdom may have gone in an opposite direction from today. The Iron Lady was forced from office in an intra-party no-confidence battle. Unlike her partner across the pond, she wasn't able to retire with popular dignity and a chosen successor. And the reason? It wasn't her local-government conservatism. It wasn't even her fiscal conservatism or her hawkish foreign policy against the Soviets. Instead, it was her policy to what would become the European Union. Ms. Thatcher's Tory opponents wanted the UK to forego the Pound Sterling and join the proposed common European currency. That notion was anathema to Thatcher; she didn't want to give an inch of the United Kingdom's sovereignty to fools on the Continent. It should be the British people who are both liable and responsible for their own currency, not the British people who are liable for but not given any control of the common currency. Given the fiscal demise of Greece and Ireland and the imminent fiscal demise of Portugal and Spain, the Lady's decision to avoid the Euro couldn't have been better. However, in 1990, those in her own party didn't see her precience.

So, on November 22, 1990, after the first ballot for the leadership of the Conservative party showed Thatcher ahead but with less support than expected from her Tory colleagues, the Lady announced that she would not be on the second ballot. She resigned, leaving a party that had thrown itself into needless disarray. It would remain that way until the present--the Tories are now again in power (though barely) after a thirteen year exile. However, the scars that her opponents left on the Conservative Party persist, only lightly plastered over, leaving the party as vulnerable as it has ever really been. What it needs now is a true successor to Thatcher, not the namby-pamby, spineless, career politician David Cameron.

Two excellent pieces on Thatcher's downfall from the Daily Telegraph: one and two.

One of Thatcher's final PMQ's:

Tommie

2010-11-16T20:34:00.004-06:00

Another drawing...of a baby Thomson's Gazelle.

Hyena

2010-11-14T20:00:00.003-06:00

I did this in Corel Painter this evening as a light study.

Muppet update!

2010-11-14T12:37:00.006-06:00

Info on the new Muppet movie has just been released to Comingsoon.net! Below is how they describe it:

"Walt Disney Pictures has provided us with this first look at Disney's The Muppets, to be directed by James Bobin from a script by Jason Segel and Nicholas Stoller. The December 25, 2011 release will star Jason Segel, Amy Adams and Chris Cooper.
Entertainment Weekly says that the new Muppet in the film will be Walter, who you can see holding the smartphone [above]. He's described as "a sweet, slightly naive twenty-something Everypuppet who, in the movie, is the best friend and roommate of Segel's character, Gary. Both Gary and Walter are die-hard Muppet fans."
"Walter is the kind of guy who faints when he sees Kermit," Bobin told the magazine. "Walter has a little bit of a self-confidence issue because he's the only person like him that he's seen aside from the Muppets," Segel explained. "His dream is to meet the Muppets and be around people who are like him."
EW adds that when Gary and Walter learn that the Muppet Theater is in danger of being torn down, they set out to save it by reuniting Kermit, Piggy, and the entire troupe to stage an old-fashioned extravaganza.
Read more: A First Look at the New Muppets Movie - ComingSoon.net"

NEW POOH!

2010-11-11T19:52:00.006-06:00

I just found out today, courtesy of my brother, that Disney Animation will be coming out with a new full-length feature of Winnie the Pooh! It's the brainchild of John Lasseter (seriously...can the man get any more awesome?). They are bringing back everyone's favorite, Christopher Robin,* who they replaced with this monstrosity a few years ago:

Don't let her happy little face fool you. She's really a Gremlin inside.

Guess what, Darby. Nobody likes you!

Here's the trailer for the movie...I can't wait.

*Apparently Christopher Robin was the favorite of everyone except, well, Christopher Robin Milne, the son of the original author of Winnie the Pooh, who hated the stories. He had to learn how to box to protect himself in school, because the other boys would bully him on account of his role in the books.

Veterans' Day

2010-11-11T15:37:00.003-06:00

Today is Veterans' Day, and it seems difficult to know exactly how best to thank those who have served us. The holiday is too often forgotten or devolved into simple waving of flags or other patriotic gestures. It's important to remember, however, that each and every veteran is a person with a story of his or her service. Often those experiences are hugely fulfilling. Too often, however, they involve unimagined horror. But that's why we thank them today. They ran into the din so that we wouldn't have to. Below is what I think is an honest, heart-wrenching look at what our men and women in uniform are willing to sacrifice.

Prayers for Peace from Dustin Grella on Vimeo.

Toy Story 3 Explains the 2010 Midterms?

2010-11-11T08:13:00.002-06:00

Apparently so, says this L.A. Times article. Strange things, indeed:

Remember, Remember, Belated!

2010-11-06T09:40:00.004-05:00

I am in Michigan for work, meaning that my blogging abilities are severely constrained and will be for a while. However, yesterday was one of the best holidays ever--Guy Fawkes Day. It is altogether fitting and proper on that day to set bonfires alight, burn effigies, make fireworks, and gorge yourself on sausage and potatoes. What a great holiday!

An excellent Guy Fawkes remembrance essay, from John Derbyshire's website:

Please to remember
The fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason, and plot!

Oh, I remember. My very earliest Guy Fawkes Nights were family affairs. Dad would have made up a modest bonfire in the back yard and bought a box of assorted fireworks from our local store, the same place where we got our newspapers, candy, and soda. When darkness had fallen and we could already hear fireworks going off in the neighborhood, we'd put our winter coats on, troop out down the garden, and light the bonfire. It had a rough-made Guy on it, of course, stuffed with back copies of Dad's Daily Mirror, and it was very thrilling to watch the Guy go up in flames and to wonder darkly how things would proceed with an actual person there. You had to have a Guy on your bonfire. The only place that didn't was St. Peter's School in York, alma mater of the actual Guido Fawkes, where it was felt that burning an alumnus in effigy showed poor school spirit.

You got a good selection of fireworks in those boxes. Lamest were the volcanos, conical things that you set on the ground and lit the apex of. They sputtered out varicolored flames and sparks. A small step up on the excitement scale were roman candles, cylindrical and held in the hand (lit end away from you, of course). The Catherine wheel was a long thin tube of paper stuffed with powder and wound in a spiral around a small wooden disk. You nailed the disk to (in our case) one of the poles that supported the family clothes line. Once lit, the thing spun round, emitting a lovely circular display of flames. Then there were bangers, of course: you lit them, threw them on the ground, put your fingers in your ears, and waited for the bang. More exciting was the jumping jack, which banged many times in quick succession, jumping at each bang, everyone knocking in to each other in the semi-darkness to get out of its way. My favorites were the rockets, always on a long stick. You put the stick into an empty milk bottle, lit the taper, and stood back. My sister, in common with most girls, preferred "sparklers" — lengths of wire coated to halfway along with some hard substance that burned with a fizzing white brilliance. In the darkness of a small-town November night you could write your name in the air with a sparkler before it burned down, the light so bright it lingered on the retina. I remember, I remember.

When I was a little older, with the liberty that came to older children in that time, and in every previous time, back to Tom Sawyer and beyond, but which has since been abolished in the interest of, what? I forget — when I was a little older, I say, I joined in setting up the neighborhood boys' bonfire. It was an immense thing, twelve feet high or more, on some waste ground nearby. Scrap wood and old furniture — discarded sofas or armchairs were in great demand at this time of year — had been diligently piled up for weeks before. The great fear was that some idiot from the neighborhood, or some commando squad from a rival neighborhood, would sneak in and torch your bonfire. Sentries were posted, as best this could be managed under parental dinner-time and bed-time rules. In fact I never knew of a bonfire being prematurely lit, though it would have been easy to do. I think the deed was just too dastardly for anyone to carry out. On the Fifth, of course, the thing would go up gloriously, all the neighborhood boys standing round, tossing bangers at each other and sending up rockets. The older element tried to smoke cigarettes and made amateurish attempts to impress the few girls present.

In the weeks before, while fireworks were on sale, experiments were undertaken. Bangers could be dropped into milk bottles (not recommended) or down street gratings, poked up drainpipes, or, in the open fields beyond the edge of the town, imbedded in cowpats. I am proud to say that I went considerably beyond these merely explosive adventures. Inspired by Werner Buedeler's book Telescopes, Rockets, Stars, which I had read from cover to cover a dozen times over, I was bent on constructing a multistage launch vehicle by tying two store-bought rockets together and adjusting the lengths of their fuses. I actually got this to work, and even achieved separation of the two stages, though the development budget wiped out a month's pocket money.

We had never heard of Halloween back then. I am told that nowadays, in the glutted abundance of postindustrial society, English kids celebrate both festivals. In fact, Guy Fawkes and his 1605 plot against King James I notwithstanding, they are both the same festival. Fifty years ago, as Iona and Peter Opie noted in their book The Lore and Language of Schoolchildren: "When darkness closes in on the vigil of All Saints' Day, Britain has the appearance of a land inhabited by two nations with completely different cultural backgrounds …" Half the nation celebrated Halloween, half held off until Guy Fawkes Night.

Both halves were keeping alive a tradition that stretched back to long before the wars of religion, indeed to before religion itself. The pastoralists of the ancient British Isles divided the year not according to planting and harvests but at the points where livestock could be released to graze freely, or needed to be brought in to the homestead stalls. With the coming of winter, cattle could not be left out on frozen pastures to suffer cold and darkness. Neither could the spirits of the ancestors. All needed to be brought in to warmth and light. The economics of winter feeding demanded that many animals be slaughtered. Their meat was salted away, their bones burned in the welcoming fires — bone fires. From a roadside somewhere in France on a hot June evening in 1915, Private John Henry Knowles, my mother's father, wrote to my grandmother: "Dear wife tell my sons we are close to the big guns and people walk about as if it was bonyfire night …" Granddad, though barely
literate, had his etymology right.

The Opies: "The guy has long ago been burnt and forgotten. The last firework has been exploded. The bonfire becomes all-important, and somehow it seems to be a heathen Hallowe'en fire they are attending." I remember, I remember.

I'm going to bed, but...

2010-11-02T23:51:00.002-05:00

Elections, elections, elections!

Republicans take the House. That was expected. John Boehner will probably become speaker. NPR said that he is the new Speaker. That's not true, at least not until January when the new congress convenes. I thought NPR was supposed to be the intellectual station...

Democrats hold the Senate. This was a long shot for Republicans anyway. They needed to have a perfect night (like the Dems had in 2006). It didn't materialize. A shame that, in some ways, Republicans shot themselves in the foot. Harry Reid was dead in the water. Someone like Danny Tarkanian would've smashed him. He would've been a great Republican senator, too. Instead they chose Sharron Angle, it became a real race, and she (with 40% of precincts reporting at writing) lost. Mike Castle would've been a moderate, but that's about all you could expect in Delaware. Instead, it was thrown away the moment Christine O'Donnell won the primary.

Of course, looking back, Republicans wouldn't have been in this situation if George Allen hadn't been a moron in Virginia in 2006 or if Ted Stevens wouldn't've been convicted of fraud in 2008. Elections sure do have consequences!

Biggest disappointment of the night for me is that Barbara Boxer seems to have survived for another term. Someone on one of the blogs put it perfectly: now California is in a huge mess, with bankruptcy looming, a Democratic state government that will refuse the straighten itself out, and a Congress that will refuse to help them.

However, there is a huge shining light. That is Marco Rubio, Senator-elect of Florida. I'm bedazzled by him more than any politician I've seen, probably ever (nb: I never joined the crazy Obama-obsession wagon, and, frankly, I still don't understand it). Not only does Rubio have an incredible personal story, but he has solid, responsible conservative beliefs about restraining out-of-control government in a proper way. As Speaker of the Florida House, he was constantly coming up with and soliciting ideas for how to make government smaller, better, and more representative of the people. I'm a huge fan, and growing. Would I to live in Florida (and to vote for him for a higher office in a few years)!

Instead, I'm in Illinois, garbage heap of idiot politicians and voters who keep electing them. Mark Kirk seems to have beat guy-in-college-you-always-wanted-to-punch-because-of-his-cocky-egoism Alexi Ginnoulias. I guess that's good. Quinn vs. Brady has yet to be called. Lord help Illinois if it goes the same route as California--no money, no plans to cut spending, no support for raising taxes. Bankruptcy, here we come!

And with that, I bid you a fare-thee-well and adieu.

Happy Election Day!

2010-11-02T15:45:00.000-05:00

Calvin and Hobbes Mural

2010-11-01T16:38:00.003-05:00

A friend sent this to me, and it is wicked cool. I want one.

More about it here.

Happy Halloween!

2010-10-31T09:54:00.000-05:00

I Still Like You

2010-10-20T15:09:00.004-05:00

I just discovered Josh 'Hat' Lieberman's blog. It's a random compendium of tips and drawings. The current head post is a tutorial on storyboarding, which is well worth the read. He also drew this little gem:

Art for Aidan

2010-10-20T14:31:00.006-05:00

It's making the rounds on a lot of the blogs right now, but there's a five year old boy named Aidan who was diagnosed with leukemia a few weeks ago. He's going through rounds of chemo, and to help with the medical expenses, his family has started a blog and an Etsy profile to sell his drawings. He loves monsters and has a lot of talent drawing them (see below). Currently, the Etsy shop is sold out, and, if you read the blog, you can see why; he's a rather busy little guy right now.

So, pray for Aidan to get well soon, and check out his blog!

Cars 2 Teaser Trailer Released!

2010-10-20T12:40:00.002-05:00

Apparently, the Luxo Lamp has also turned into Cyclops.

The Oval Office

2010-10-15T09:23:00.005-05:00

If you know me, you know that I think the American system of government, for all its foibles, is kind of awesome. Specifically, I find the presidency to be one of the most intriguing jobs ever created. For all our talk of citizen-rulers, the position still sits in the American mind somewhere between a monarch and politician, just the way that George Washington wanted. Even when the individual occupant is unpopular, we revere the office and its power. Maybe that's one reason that a president who is flailing in the polls isn't simply disliked. A sense of betrayal befalls him. The president, we feel, embodies what we aspire to be; in his hands--true or not--we place the future of the United States. It's a sacred trust and a heavy burden. No wonder presidents age at twice the rate of a normal citizen.

That said, the most iconic image of the presidency is the White House (which I love!), and the most iconic room in the White House is the Oval Office. That's where it happens. That's where the big decisions are made.

Presidents, of course, are all different, and one way their individual differences, political and personal, manifest themselves is through a change in decoration of the Oval Office. It's a tradition that has happened since the Oval Office came into being. When George W. Bush came into office in January 2001, he had the Clinton rug removed and replaced with the old Reagan rug, symbolically indicating in whose footsteps he wanted to follow. In contrast, when Barack Obama became president, he kept George W. Bush's decorations for almost two years, not to indicate a continuity of policy but to avoid a display of needless extravagance in the midst of a recession. How the decorations are treated means something, both to the president and to the American people.

Its decor is also subject to unintentional symbolism. For example, while John F. Kennedy was traveling to Dallas in November 1963, the Oval Office was redecorated with a deep scarlet rug and new furniture. He never lived to see the change (in fact, Mrs. Kennedy never saw it either; the decorations were taken down immediately after the assassination, before she returned to the White House), and Lyndon Johnson, soon after his assumption of the presidency, went back to the dull Truman-era green. The optimism to take on everything--even the traditional old Oval Office--that had seemed so bright was extinguished.

LBJ also brought televisions into the Oval Office, the first and only time that has been done. He would keep four of them running on the different news networks to keep him apprised of what the American people were viewing in Vietnam. Richard Nixon didn't like the way that it looked, nor did he want to follow four different news networks. So, he removed the TV's and installed a new rug--different from any in the past--with the presidential seal emblazoned on it.

Gerald Ford, soon after taking office, with the Nixon decor

Gerald Ford, upon Nixon's resignation, had the Oval Office redecorated, not as much because he disliked the look as to indicate a severance between his administration and his predecessor's. The eagle carpet was removed, replaced with a nice pale yellow, patterned rug. Jimmy Carter kept the decorations during his administration, though he rearranged the furniture a bit.

Gerald Ford's Oval Office (recreation at Ford Library)

Jimmy Carter in the Oval Office, using Ford decor

Ronald Reagan, again wanting to make clear that he was the new president, had the Carter/Ford decor altered soon after arriving in office. It was replaced with a truly eighties motif: pastels and flowery patterns.

Ronald Reagan on his last day in office

Replica of Reagan Oval Office (at Reagan Library)

Reagan was, of course, followed by the first George Bush, who changed the colors of the office to a sky-blue motif. As far as my aesthetic is concerned, it's pretty atrocious, but whatever.

George Bush Oval Office (note the Reagan couches are the same)

Then came Bill Clinton. Frankly, of the motifs I've seen, I like his the best. He used a bold blue rug and two couches with alternating red and white stripes of varying thicknesses. To me, it reflects both the power of the office by catching your eye and subconsciously reflecting the American flag.

Clinton Oval Office

His office was effectively recreated for the television drama The West Wing, which was written as an alternate history to the Clinton presidency. What if, it posits, the president were intelligent like Clinton but had a better moral compass? It's a great show, which, while (according to former White House staffers) not being entirely accurate on the White House layout or the way policy is done, is an excellent portrayal of the energy and the 'mood' that an administration exudes.

George W. Bush, as mentioned above, had the Reagan rug pulled out of storage very soon after he took office. During his tenure, the Oval Office floor was redone (in a beautiful light/dark alternating wood pattern), and his new decorations were put in. They were less intense than the Clinton colors, though I must admit his 'sun rays' rug was an incredible touch. He gets the silver medal in Josh's contest.

Bush meeting with advisers in 2001

President Obama just recently changed the Oval Office decor, reflecting a more modern outlook. For the first time, the walls have been changed from their past off-white, with a vertically striped wallpaper pattern that follows the striped wood floor. I kind of like that. He also installed two new couches, both yellowy-olive corduroy, and a new, moderny coffee table (with a bowl of apples instead of flowers, since he likes that better). I don't particularly like those changes (except the apples...that's fine).

The Obama Oval Office

It's kind of remarkable how iconic 'the Oval' has become. It didn't even exist until Franklin Roosevelt had it built during the Great Depression. Before then, the president had an oval-shaped office in a different location of the West Wing. Before that office (in the early 1900's), it was a simple rectangular one. Before that, there was no West Wing, and the president both lived and worked in the White House itself.

One thing is sure: as long as there is a presidency, there will now be an Oval Office. Our nation's psyche is attached to it. Were something terrible to happen to the White House and the Oval be destroyed, it would be immediately rebuilt. It stands for the Office of the President more than any individual ever could.

Almost all pictures courtesy of the White House Museum (check them out!)

Another Cheetah

2010-10-14T21:29:00.003-05:00

Continuing my seeming obsession with cheetahs (it's really just a story idea churning in my head...), here's another drawring.

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2010-10-14T16:46:00.003-05:00