A review of Bring It On: Fight to the Finish
By JustiN Orion Neal Taylor
The first five minutes made me say, “Okay nobody behaves like that in real life.” Nobody has an impromptu dance fight at the drop of a hat, as a for instance. Of course, I was rewarded with the reveal that it was in fact, a dream sequence. The fact that this was not the only point where I had the exact same incredulous reaction ought to count against it.
For whatever reason, I actually did enjoy this movie. It’s a sports movie about competitive cheerleading. It’s about a team of plucky upstarts versus a team of haughty established champs. Guess who wins?
The dialogue had problems. It tries to be hip. It comes off as feeling fake.
Christina Milian, the female lead, is according to the box cover copy some sort of singer when she’s not making movies. Somehow, she can act though. At least enough for me to buy her as a high school cheerleader, even though she’s somewhere in her mid to late twenties and never did any of this cheerleader stuff before making this movie.
As a sort of comedy most of the jokes kinda worked. The most effective one was in the deleted scenes, a scene where the cheerleaders fake a drive by shooting, though. I actually laughed out loud during that one. Most of the movie prompted only minor chuckles, if that.
Somehow I liked this movie overall. Call it three out of five stars.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Monday, October 6, 2008
Another political rant
If anybody were to ask me what's wrong with the democratic republic system of government in the United States of America, which nobody will because I work at a Burrito Gong, I would say: lawyer politicians and professional politicians. These two problems serve to disenfranchise the common man by making the law inaccessible to him.
I mentioned working at a Burrito Gong. Our current store manager is a latina, and she hires mostly latinas and latinos. Many of them speak little English and have even less literacy in English. They often get put into the kitchen making food because they don't speak English well enough to ring up orders. The trouble is, they are often being taught how to make food by native English speakers with little or no Spanish language skills. Also, the electronic screens displaying the orders, once they are rung up by an order taker, so the kitchen crew can see what to make, are in English.
It's not too hard to imaginge that quite often orders get screwed up because the people making food don't understand why +ON ON ON (for add onion three times) means mucho seboya. Here's where I'm going with this: The law is a specialized language. Lawyers learn it well, if they are good at their job. Legislators make laws that apply to everybody, lawyer and lay man alike. Electing a lawyer to legislate ensures that future laws get written in legalese. This means that a lay man can look at a bill that his legislator wrote affecting his life, in possibly drastic ways, and have no idea what it means.
To make laws that will serve lay people, like folks who work at the Burrito Gong, well we need lay people legislating. There are a few barriers to entry though, one of which is professional politicians, that is to say incumbents who win and keep on getting re-elected. I believe that politics should not be a viable long-term career choice.
First we shouldn't need as much government as we get. I really think that law-makers should only need to put in three hour days and not every day, either. Now that we've got the basics down already: murder is against state laws and is either a death penalty or a life sentence, depending on the state; rape is against the law; theft is against the law with size of the theft affecting the severity of the charge which affects the sentence; there's really nothing that law-makers can do except build highways to nowhere in Alaska and allocate funds to the Lawrence Welk museum. And name post offices.
Second, law-making isn't real work, so it shouldn't really pay. Besides salaries, pensions, and health benefits paid for by people who work at the Burrito Gong, politicians have many unofficial streams of revenue available, including book deals, speaking gigs, and gifts from lobbyists.
This brings me to my third point against professional politicians, lobbyists. Lobbyists seek influence with politicians through gifts. Every time someone forces politicians to clean up their act by setting limits on what lobbyists can do for politicians and how, the lobbyists find new loopholes. No politician is aboe the influence. Time in this system is inherently corrupting.
I mentioned working at a Burrito Gong. Our current store manager is a latina, and she hires mostly latinas and latinos. Many of them speak little English and have even less literacy in English. They often get put into the kitchen making food because they don't speak English well enough to ring up orders. The trouble is, they are often being taught how to make food by native English speakers with little or no Spanish language skills. Also, the electronic screens displaying the orders, once they are rung up by an order taker, so the kitchen crew can see what to make, are in English.
It's not too hard to imaginge that quite often orders get screwed up because the people making food don't understand why +ON ON ON (for add onion three times) means mucho seboya. Here's where I'm going with this: The law is a specialized language. Lawyers learn it well, if they are good at their job. Legislators make laws that apply to everybody, lawyer and lay man alike. Electing a lawyer to legislate ensures that future laws get written in legalese. This means that a lay man can look at a bill that his legislator wrote affecting his life, in possibly drastic ways, and have no idea what it means.
To make laws that will serve lay people, like folks who work at the Burrito Gong, well we need lay people legislating. There are a few barriers to entry though, one of which is professional politicians, that is to say incumbents who win and keep on getting re-elected. I believe that politics should not be a viable long-term career choice.
First we shouldn't need as much government as we get. I really think that law-makers should only need to put in three hour days and not every day, either. Now that we've got the basics down already: murder is against state laws and is either a death penalty or a life sentence, depending on the state; rape is against the law; theft is against the law with size of the theft affecting the severity of the charge which affects the sentence; there's really nothing that law-makers can do except build highways to nowhere in Alaska and allocate funds to the Lawrence Welk museum. And name post offices.
Second, law-making isn't real work, so it shouldn't really pay. Besides salaries, pensions, and health benefits paid for by people who work at the Burrito Gong, politicians have many unofficial streams of revenue available, including book deals, speaking gigs, and gifts from lobbyists.
This brings me to my third point against professional politicians, lobbyists. Lobbyists seek influence with politicians through gifts. Every time someone forces politicians to clean up their act by setting limits on what lobbyists can do for politicians and how, the lobbyists find new loopholes. No politician is aboe the influence. Time in this system is inherently corrupting.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Compassionate Curmudgeon
Compassionate Curmudgeon
First let me state for the record that I am neither a Satanist nor a Buddhist. I find religion to be a fascinating phenomenon and try to find out as much as possible about it. Every religion, epsecially the ones that are more philosophies than religions, says something about the human race.
I started reading two books recently: The Devil's Notebook by Anton Szandor LaVey and The Art of Happiness by His Holiness, The Dalai Lama. Anton LaVey, was the founder of the Church of Satan. The Dalai Lama is the head of the Tibetan sect of Buddhism.
These books and the men who wrote them and the teachings they try to exemplify come from pretty much opposite ends of the spectrum. LaVey's Satanism is all about being a jerk if it suits you. Tibetan Buddhism, on the other hand, espouses loving kindness.
Despite these opposite approaches, I found myself nodding my head and silently agreeing with much of what both books had to say. This has led me to identify my own philosophical position: I am a Compassionate Curmudgeon.
My basic worldview can be summarized as follows:
I wish the human populace of the world well and I wish it well away from me.
First let me state for the record that I am neither a Satanist nor a Buddhist. I find religion to be a fascinating phenomenon and try to find out as much as possible about it. Every religion, epsecially the ones that are more philosophies than religions, says something about the human race.
I started reading two books recently: The Devil's Notebook by Anton Szandor LaVey and The Art of Happiness by His Holiness, The Dalai Lama. Anton LaVey, was the founder of the Church of Satan. The Dalai Lama is the head of the Tibetan sect of Buddhism.
These books and the men who wrote them and the teachings they try to exemplify come from pretty much opposite ends of the spectrum. LaVey's Satanism is all about being a jerk if it suits you. Tibetan Buddhism, on the other hand, espouses loving kindness.
Despite these opposite approaches, I found myself nodding my head and silently agreeing with much of what both books had to say. This has led me to identify my own philosophical position: I am a Compassionate Curmudgeon.
My basic worldview can be summarized as follows:
I wish the human populace of the world well and I wish it well away from me.
Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This Part 3
Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This Part 3: Garage Door Story
A more recent one. I won't say exactly when. I had to go to work at the Burrito Gong by ten in the morning. My dad had parked in the garage the previous night.
We went out to the garage on time, but then the garage door refused to open. After some investigation it is found out that the garage door is eletric and the circuit breaker for the garages had been tripped. The circuit breaker was in the apartment complex's central office which was locked and unmanned.
I did eventually get to the Burrito gong, after calling a relative who had moved to the neighborhood for a ride, and worked my lunch shift. My dad did find the manual over-ride for the garage door opener, which involves turning the key that normally triggers the electric motor really hard until a pull cord comes out, so I got picked up on time.
Then I worked an evening shift at an Italian restaurant where I bus boy. It was my first day to work with a new bus boy and I said it ought to be a slow evening and gave a sensible sounding reason. It was anything but.
A more recent one. I won't say exactly when. I had to go to work at the Burrito Gong by ten in the morning. My dad had parked in the garage the previous night.
We went out to the garage on time, but then the garage door refused to open. After some investigation it is found out that the garage door is eletric and the circuit breaker for the garages had been tripped. The circuit breaker was in the apartment complex's central office which was locked and unmanned.
I did eventually get to the Burrito gong, after calling a relative who had moved to the neighborhood for a ride, and worked my lunch shift. My dad did find the manual over-ride for the garage door opener, which involves turning the key that normally triggers the electric motor really hard until a pull cord comes out, so I got picked up on time.
Then I worked an evening shift at an Italian restaurant where I bus boy. It was my first day to work with a new bus boy and I said it ought to be a slow evening and gave a sensible sounding reason. It was anything but.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This Part 2: The Pheasant Story
I really did have to walk five miles through the snow to get to school. Just once, though, not every day.
I was in tenth grade and going to a charter school way out in the boonies, about five miles from my house. I had missed the bus for the third time that week and knew my stepdad would be totally steamed if I came home for a ride. I didn't have my wallet with me, so I had no money to take the city bus. Entirely skipping that day of school simply never occurred to me. So, I started walking.
This was early in December. It wasn't snowing right then, but there was snow on the ground. I mentioned that it was about five miles, but did I mention that most of it was up hill?
Somewhere as you head from the city to out in the boonies, you run out of sidewalk. At about the point that this happens, a bird starts walkling alongside me. I am not an ornithologist, I have no idea what it is. It looks a little like a quail and is brightly colored kinda like a rooster.
It freeks me out to have this bird walking alongside me, so I try to shoo it away with the hardcover book I was carrying under my arm. In response to this, the bird starts pecking at my shoe. I'm kinda frozen, afraid that if I run that will make it go for my face. Eventually someone comes along and distracts the bird long enough for me to get away. I ask him what kind of bird it was and he tells me it's a male pheasant.
I was in tenth grade and going to a charter school way out in the boonies, about five miles from my house. I had missed the bus for the third time that week and knew my stepdad would be totally steamed if I came home for a ride. I didn't have my wallet with me, so I had no money to take the city bus. Entirely skipping that day of school simply never occurred to me. So, I started walking.
This was early in December. It wasn't snowing right then, but there was snow on the ground. I mentioned that it was about five miles, but did I mention that most of it was up hill?
Somewhere as you head from the city to out in the boonies, you run out of sidewalk. At about the point that this happens, a bird starts walkling alongside me. I am not an ornithologist, I have no idea what it is. It looks a little like a quail and is brightly colored kinda like a rooster.
It freeks me out to have this bird walking alongside me, so I try to shoo it away with the hardcover book I was carrying under my arm. In response to this, the bird starts pecking at my shoe. I'm kinda frozen, afraid that if I run that will make it go for my face. Eventually someone comes along and distracts the bird long enough for me to get away. I ask him what kind of bird it was and he tells me it's a male pheasant.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This Part 1: Off To School
Actually I doubt my mama ever said there'd be days like some of these. She is a prophetess and seer of the first order, but some things are so unlikely that they can not be predicted.
Like the first day of eighth grade. I knew where my morning bus stop was because it should be the same as for when I was in seventh grade. I knew what day the first day of school was. Somehow though, I never went through the orientation that should have occured before the first day of school. As far as I know they simply never sent us the information about when orientation was and so on.
So, I'm walking to the bus stop, and suddenly I see, I'm heading towards a giant ravening wolf, or maybe it was a German shephard, but anyways I'm heading towards it, and it's heading towards me, and it's not on a leash, and I'm very phobic about dogs. I duck down a side street and reroute a couple blcoks out of my way and make it to the bus stop on time.
Then when I try to get on the bus, the bus driver quite naturally asks to see my student ID. Now, one of the important things about the orientation process is that at the end, you have a student ID. Since I didn't go to orientation, I had no student ID. The bus driver refused to allow me to board the bus. This was in the pre-Colombine days, but some schools and bus drivers have always been more security minded than others.
I had an aunt living a couple of blocks away from the school bus stop, so I went over there and called home to tell my stepdad the story and get a ride to school. Not an auspicious start to the school year.
Like the first day of eighth grade. I knew where my morning bus stop was because it should be the same as for when I was in seventh grade. I knew what day the first day of school was. Somehow though, I never went through the orientation that should have occured before the first day of school. As far as I know they simply never sent us the information about when orientation was and so on.
So, I'm walking to the bus stop, and suddenly I see, I'm heading towards a giant ravening wolf, or maybe it was a German shephard, but anyways I'm heading towards it, and it's heading towards me, and it's not on a leash, and I'm very phobic about dogs. I duck down a side street and reroute a couple blcoks out of my way and make it to the bus stop on time.
Then when I try to get on the bus, the bus driver quite naturally asks to see my student ID. Now, one of the important things about the orientation process is that at the end, you have a student ID. Since I didn't go to orientation, I had no student ID. The bus driver refused to allow me to board the bus. This was in the pre-Colombine days, but some schools and bus drivers have always been more security minded than others.
I had an aunt living a couple of blocks away from the school bus stop, so I went over there and called home to tell my stepdad the story and get a ride to school. Not an auspicious start to the school year.
Friday, July 4, 2008
A Review of Micah by Laurell K. Hamilton
Well, it's been awhile since the greybeard posted a review.
Judging by the cover artwork, I doubt that Laurell K. Hamilton's Micah has male Science Fiction geeks in mind as a core audience. Quite honestly it looks a bit like a romance novel. Despite the beefcakey cover artwork and romantic aspects of the plot, this male Science Fiction geek did enjoy the book.
Basically, Anita Blake, the vampire hunter and necromancer, has to travel out of state to animate a zombie to testify for the feds. Because of weird complications from being the human servant to a vampire, Anita needs to have sex on a fairly regular basis, so she brings along one of her boyfriends, Micah. Micah is a wereleopard, which is like a werewolf but with the transformation being from human to leopard rather than wolf.
Along the way, more about Micah’s origin is revealed. Lycanthropy, the catch-all term for shape-changing as a condition including among others werewolves, wereleopards, werehyenas, and wererats is transmitted as a disease by bites and scratches from an infected creature. Micah caught his case as result of a violent attack by a serial killer wereleopard who targeted hunters.
After a rather lengthy bit of dialogue and lengthy sex scene that kind of intermingled, we get to the animation that Anita was called out for in the first place. It goes wrong because zombies who were murdered in the first life have an unstoppable drive for vengeance once animated. This zombie died of a heart attack but believes that it was brought on by another person’s actions, so he feels like he’s been murdered. And that’s just about the end of the novel.
Why did I like this book? I think the intermingling of supernatural horror elements with other human feelings and even the sex and romance bits add up to something unique and kind of cool. It’s also interesting that Hamilton seems to have rules in mind for how the supernatural critters work in her novels even if they aren’t necessarily spelled out for us or clear to the characters involved. There’s also the fact that it is quite simply a good supernatural horror novel.
Judging by the cover artwork, I doubt that Laurell K. Hamilton's Micah has male Science Fiction geeks in mind as a core audience. Quite honestly it looks a bit like a romance novel. Despite the beefcakey cover artwork and romantic aspects of the plot, this male Science Fiction geek did enjoy the book.
Basically, Anita Blake, the vampire hunter and necromancer, has to travel out of state to animate a zombie to testify for the feds. Because of weird complications from being the human servant to a vampire, Anita needs to have sex on a fairly regular basis, so she brings along one of her boyfriends, Micah. Micah is a wereleopard, which is like a werewolf but with the transformation being from human to leopard rather than wolf.
Along the way, more about Micah’s origin is revealed. Lycanthropy, the catch-all term for shape-changing as a condition including among others werewolves, wereleopards, werehyenas, and wererats is transmitted as a disease by bites and scratches from an infected creature. Micah caught his case as result of a violent attack by a serial killer wereleopard who targeted hunters.
After a rather lengthy bit of dialogue and lengthy sex scene that kind of intermingled, we get to the animation that Anita was called out for in the first place. It goes wrong because zombies who were murdered in the first life have an unstoppable drive for vengeance once animated. This zombie died of a heart attack but believes that it was brought on by another person’s actions, so he feels like he’s been murdered. And that’s just about the end of the novel.
Why did I like this book? I think the intermingling of supernatural horror elements with other human feelings and even the sex and romance bits add up to something unique and kind of cool. It’s also interesting that Hamilton seems to have rules in mind for how the supernatural critters work in her novels even if they aren’t necessarily spelled out for us or clear to the characters involved. There’s also the fact that it is quite simply a good supernatural horror novel.
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