Category: Uncategorized

Having attended a very PC college, I heard plenty of complaints about anthrocentrism, but this may be the greatest bit of self-centeredness ever:

New Scientist reports a worrying new variant as the cosmologists claim that astronomers may have accidentally nudged the universe closer to its death by observing dark energy, a mysterious anti gravity force which is thought to be speeding up the expansion of the cosmos.

The damaging allegations are made by Profs Lawrence Krauss of Case Western Reserve University in Cleveland, Ohio, and James Dent of Vanderbilt University, Nashville, who suggest that by making this observation in 1998 we may have caused the cosmos to revert to an earlier state when it was more likely to end. “Incredible as it seems, our detection of the dark energy may have reduced the life-expectancy of the universe,” Prof Krauss tells New Scientist.

After Monday, I took the rest of the week off. Today I decided to catch a matinee of the new flick from the Coen Bros., No Country for Old Men. Before I comment on the movie, I should point out that I rarely go out to the theater. Why? Because other people suck. In this instance, the audience of perhaps 20 people got treated to THREE incoming cellphone calls to the old couple sitting in my row.

Of course, they didn’t want to be rude and answer their phone. Instead, the let the incoming calls ring out, including the one that occurred during the closing monologue. Thanks, you old fuckers! I loved listening to your ringtone instead of the movie! Be glad I didn’t wait for the lights to come up so I could ask you for $9 to make up for the moviegoing experience that you wrecked.

Despite those interruptions, it was an awfully good movie. Looking over his filmography, it appears that I’ve never seen a Josh Brolin flick before, so I don’t know if he’s known for anything besides bagging Diane Lane, that lucky so-and-so. What I do know is that he played a tough role very naturally, without pulling any “Look! I’m acting!” moments.

Tommy Lee Jones also did a fine job as an old sheriff. The role called for an extinguished spark, which he provided. Strangely, his role mirrored that of Frances McDormand in Fargo, as a cop/sheriff who’s always trailing the mayhem, and trying to make sense of it all. In McDormand’s case, the character’s pregnancy catalyzes questions of evil and life. For Jones, his family’s history in law enforcement chronicles an abyss that looms ever closer.

That abyss is brought to you courtesy of Javier Bardem, who was utterly frightening as a killer possessed of a moral vision. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the character. When I write “moral vision,” I don’t mean some pat line of “I kill people because they’ve been asleep all their bourgeois lives” or somesuch. Rather, the character really seems to consider issues of fate and will, notions that I’m sure attracted the Bros. to adapt the novel into this movie.

Plus, one of the attacks enabled the Coens to throw in a little Miller’s Crossing homage (a character has to escape out a window a la Albert Finney in the great Danny Boy sequence). Of course, longtime readers of this blog know that I adore that movie over all others. Because of this affection, I usually give the Coens the benefit of the doubt. (Except with The Ladykillers, which looked pretty awful.) It’s a very restrained movie for them, with only a couple of their trademark weird moments, and that’s just fine. The story and the characters are vivid and eerie enough that any preciosities would demolish the tension that carries throughout.

I’d recommend that you go out and see this flick ASAP, but only if you buy out the movie theater, so you don’t have to deal with idiots and their goddamn cellphones. Or buy one of those jammers and block everybody from getting calls.

(Bonus: Conversation with Joel & Ethan Coen and Cormac McCarthy, author of No Country for Old Men! And Joel dismisses Miller’s Crossing as a ripoff! Thanks!)

It didn’t add up to much, but it was snow! Bam!

One of my coworkers had his two sons in this afternoon. They looked around 8 and 5 years old. I was walking by when the younger one got a pretzel stick out of the communal barrel (don’t ask) and then said to big brother, “Look! I’m smoking!”

I said, “Kid: smoking is cool. Don’t let anyone tell you different,” and then headed back to my office.

Early on in the movie, there’s an establishing aerial shot of Capitol Hill and the Washington Monument. And then the words “Washington DC” appear on-screen.

The morning sunlight projected the window’s frost tendrils on the curtain:

I think the answer to “Where do I go to get my reputation back?” is “Not Sparks Steak House.“

In my favorite movie, the lead says, “They probably had grifter parents and grifter grandparents and someday they’ll each spawn little grifter kids.”

My parents weren’t grifters; they’re packrats. And that trait, I’m sorry to say, has passed on to me. At home, I’ve held on to far too many oddball mementoes over the years. (Can you call something a memento if you can’t remember where you got it?)

I’m the same way at work. Things pile up. Fortunately, much of what I handle now is digital, and storage space is pretty cheap. I can get a little lost among files, but I’ve learned to organize my work-materials pretty well. Of course, I wasn’t always like that, and I’ve been loathe to throw something out “in case I need it,” which is probably the same rationale my parents have. In their case, you can sorta explain things in terms of coming of age in postwar Europe & Israel. Me? No excuses.

Today I decided that this really had to change. I looked around my office and concluded that I will never refer to most of the annual reports, meeting brochures, economic studies, business magazines, and conference guides that have piled up. And so, after the loose paper went into the recycling bin, I managed to generate a pile of trash that was nearly as tall as my wife:

Following Ron Rosenbaum’s epic takedown of Esquire’s Angelina Jolie cover story a few months ago, there’s a movement afoot to identify the most fatuous celebrity profile. Any nominations?

The leaves are starting to change! They’re not in full fall resplendence yet, but that didn’t stop me and Amy from driving over to Ringwood Manor today to shoot some pix:

Enjoy the set.

And enjoy my wife’s set! (as it were)