Wiener Eating Bug!
My three year old son just came up from the basement white as a sheet, visibly scared. When I asked him what was wrong he told me after a little prodding.
Apparently our basement is the home of a large wiener eating bug that hides in the shadows. As he described it too me he couldn’t help but to hold onto his boyhood with all his might. The fear that he had was easily transferred to me and by the time the story was told my hands were securely cupped below my belt line.
Vampires, boogiemen and ghosts are all easy to defeat with a little light and a quick search. This is an entirely different story.
I closed the door to the basement and told him not to worry. Mommy is going to have to check this one out when she gets home.
What's the point of the Watchmen Movie?
I went and saw “Watchmen” last night. I was at first amazed by how close they kept the visuals and the overall theme to that in the book. A monumental achievement in film making to be sure. Closer to the end of the film where the main divergence started I began wondering if there really was a point to putting this work together as a motion picture.
We already all have the book right? We’ve all read it numerous times. We understand the the complex themes and characters on our own terms. That’s all upstairs already, the experience is there (for most of us). What does a movie that lifts lines of dialog and shot for shot scenes in some places add to that?
The most impressive thing about the film is that it didn’t take anything away from source material. So I guess it serves a purpose as a introduction of the story to people who have never read the comic version. The problem with that is that I’m not sure how many of those people whould really care.
The Guy at the Car Wash
I don’t know why this story sticks with me.
One day a few years ago my wife and I were in a long line at a automatic car wash. It must of been one of the first nice days of spring because it seemed that everyone in town wanted to wash the last bits of winter dirt away.
Anyway we were either talking about what ever or listening to the radio when I noticed the attendant working on the cars at the front of the line. He was tall and skinny to the degree that it didn’t look healthy. Probably in his mid to late thirties judging by his skin and hair colour. He was wearing a way out of style knit sweater and a pair of yellow rain pants with rubber boots. He was busily taking money from the customers and rinsing cars off just before they went into the tunnel.
There was nothing about what he was doing that particularly caught my eye. It was the way he was doing it that I found interesting. He was standing with his shoulders drooped to about the maxium degree and visibly sighing and tisking at about every new task he set out to do. I can remember thinking that I had never seen anyone more physically displeased with what they were doing. I know three year olds who show restraint.
Although I hadn’t said anything about this my wife had noticed too. It seems that we had both gone silent for a few moments as we watched this one man show. My wife identified the man as a member of her parents church. The fact that he goes to church means nothing but once she said that I recognised him.
It was either a few weeks or month before that I remember seeing him at my in-laws house. He was sitting having a private conversation with my father in-law in the front room of the house. They were keeping their voices very low and would stop talking if they felt someone was too close to the room they were in. I also remember how utterly miserable this guy looked that day as well.
It was after I made this connection that I couldn’t stop thinking about this guy’s situation. Every time after that when I saw him around town I couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong with him. Why was he so sad?
The other thing that occured to me was that I think I knew him years before. Not only that but my faint memories of him from the past have him in a much different state. I don’t know if he was someone who I looked up to as a kid because he either had a really nice car or a beautiful girlfriend. There is this shadow of reverence in my mind when I look at him and try to place the face. The problem is I can’t seem to match his current state with the version of him that I looked up to as a kid.
I got my car washed that day and had him perform his miserable job as I sat trying to avoid eye contact. I paid the money and went through the wash. I emerged on the other side of the building with a sparkling clean car. The early afternoon sun picking up the little beads of water all over the hood and windshield. The saddest guy in St Thomas Ontario wasn’t visible to me anymore but I still had the mental picture. I was entitled to a big discount at that car wash because of my relationship to the owner but I couldn’t bring myself to ask for a break from someone who looks like they’ve never gotten one themselves.
Last Truck
A friend of mine just told me that the last Sterling truck is set to roll off the assembly line of the St Thomas (SW Ontario) plant on Tuesday next week. Following that the 1200 employees will be cleaning up the remaining equipment and walking away from 15 plus years of continuous production.
Killing a Zombie to Avenge a Loved One
From my Twitter account:
“Question: Would the satisfaction of killing a zombie reduce the grief of loosing a loved one?”
To elaborate. If a loved one becomes a Zombie and you have to kill them to protect yourself and others, would it expedite the mourning period?
We’re talking about a double tragedy here. For one you’re having a member of the family or a close friend taken from you. Additionally the horror and stress of the situation is forcing you to cross the line and become a killer yourself. On the low end you’re watching someone you know transformed into a monster. On the high end you’re getting the satisfaction of seeing that monster’s head split open behind a double load of buck shot.
From @mattdattilo
“One zombie? No. But a hoard of them? Maybe, depending on who I lost.”
I think he might be suggesting that going on a killing frenzy might make it a little better. This implies that one zombie death is worth less then a loved ones death. I’m inclined to agree to a point. I just think that more thought needs to be given to the first zombie death and what it would mean.
Think for a second of all that would go into killing a former family member who has turned into a zombie. The creature before you would be an atrocity in your eyes. The embodiment of grief and mental anguish. Physically there but gone, never to return. The force driving the once cherished flesh not even a shadow of the former person. Maybe even a strange misplaced form of disappointment, you might feel as if it was somehow that persons fault that they turned into a zombie. From the absolute pits of sorrow and hatred so pure might emerge.
Could the extreme range of emotions leave the majority of the pain behind? The loss is something that wouldn’t go away but maybe the hardest part would be over. Think of the first sun rise after the zombie onslaught is defeated. As you gather with the other survivors on the outside of the makeshift barriers and look towards the horizon there would be more pressing matters. The spirit of your loved ones along with the scores of other recently killed might float away with the ashes of the smoldering fires. The first steps towards rebuilding might be taken by covering the past with new hope.
Things that Make Sense!
The name of the blog comes from the movie Night Shift. The Bill Blazejowski character claims to be an idea man, like me. He comes up with the idea to feed mayo to tuna so that they are easier to eat. Makes sense right?
Beginning
This blog created as a outlet for thoughts on different matters. Latey I have been very anxious to get something underway in my life. Anything really. Just the process of creating so far has given me a bit of relief.
More to follow!
