The Loom of Doom (title courtesy of She-Ra)

I have friends who really like the move 'Wanted'. One friend swears that it revolutionizes action films as we know it. Others say it's pretty entertaining, and add as all people do when describing films like this, the move is "pretty entertaining for what it is....which is..." (uncomfortable coughing) "a summer action movie." And poof, all transgressions are forgiven.

This movie takes those built in liberties and hopeful attitudes we lend it and throws it in our faces, as a gorilla would fecal matter. "Bad gorilla, but what can you expect? It's just a summer movie..."

This is what I remember from the movie. The dude from 'Atonement' screams and complains about his slow motion-then-fast-motion worker bee life, gets picked up by Angelina Jolie through generous use of extreme(!!) and tilted close-ups, and then there is a training montage when he decides to take his place in a society of super assassins that was once held by his father. The society is good because it kills people who deserve to be killed, and this objectivity is given by a loom that threads out binary code. Seriously, that's it. I read the comic book - not even a comic book could make that up.

But wait, there's more! There's a plot twist, which might've been cool if the film worked for me, hinging completely on the "curved bullet" which had been established many times beforehand lest we forget about this really cool thing they're gonna put in the commercials to draw people in, which is a curved bullet, which is amazing, because bullets don't curve in their trajectories, so this would be different - wowzah - curved bullets! I don't want to ruin the twist, except Angelina Jolie kills all the bad guys - who happen to be standing in a circle - with one bullet: a curved bullet.

And there's a point in the film where the writers, who probably haven't finished the script midway through filming, decide that a bad-ass way to blow shit up would be to lace a truckload of mice with explosives, have them run around, and detonate in slow-motion-then-fast-motion extreme(!!!) and tilted close-ups. Because that would be cool, kinetic, and unreal extreme!!!

Also, there are some scenes about an untraceable bullet, General Zod, moral conundrums done away with by Angelina Jolie's pouty story about not following the wisdom of the loom, and throw away laughs, such as Jolie in her messed up corvette pulling up next to a bunch of teenagers at a stoplight after an epic car battle bonanza. The big-eyed teenagers can't believe how f-cked up the car is! Oh gosh, they're speechless! The shot lasts a second longer than necessary (although really, was it necessary in the first place?) just so the audience is cued to laugh. Tee hee! I get it! The convertible was once nice, but now messed up! And there are bullet holes! Angelina Jolie is so bad azz! Tee hee har!

This was no "Live Free or Die Hard". This wasn't Superman, when we could say - okay, I know this is way out there, but the film makers have given me an excuse to jump in and suspend my disbelief - no, this was a gorilla throwing us poo-pie. By supporting films like this, we are telling movie companies that we want more films like this. Films based on curved bullets and expected Pavlovian responses to "funny" moments.

Taken Addendum

I watched the movie with Ben and I have to echo his enthusiasm. There were some great lines in there which included:

"Your arrogance offends me."

"Wake up. I need you to focus. DO I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION NOW (ras al ghul impales bad guys legs with metal spikes."

Unbeknownst to the directors, this movie spurred controversy within our group of friends, whereupon a passionate debate erupted arguing the merits of "who's hotter, the girl from Lost or the girl that is a blonde slut?"

The majority liked the girl from Lost who was portrayed in a homely, girl next door manner, although she was just as bratty and spoiled as she was on Lost.

I was the lone hold out for the blonde slut girl.

Their arrogance offends me.

Sumo Bean's review of "Motown Philly"

After it was learned that Sir Etimus' wifey had mocked Boyz II Men and the lyrics for "Motown Philly," I felt this review was necessary to defend the honor of the "most successful R&B male vocal group of all time[1]," which "set and broke records for the longest period of time a single remained at #1 on the Billboard Hot 100[1]" and was only "the second artist (behind The Beatles) to replace themselves at the number one spot on the Billboard Hot 100[1]."

Before I begin my review of the lyrics for "Motown Philly," I would like to take the time first to take a historical and cultural perspective of Boyz II Men. Perhaps it's because I had just finished reading "Can't Stop Won't Stop: A History of the Hip-Hop Generation" by Jeff Chang, and it's given me a fresh perspective of the music I grew up to and came of age to; that is, the role of hip hop in the larger cultural and political movements occurring that was both shaped by hip hop and conversely influenced the direction of hip hop and the hip hop generation: from the black panther movement to race riots in Watts to Korean-Black relations in LA to the LA riots to housing developments and the deterioration of the urban city...

See, to me, when I think of the early 90s, which was my golden age of music, I think of new jack swing. The new jack swing sound really got it's start in the 80s, with New Edition (which ultimately led to Bell Biv Devoe), Heavy D, Tony Toni, Tone, Janet Jackson, and the like, but it all really came to a peak with "Motown Philly." When I think of the new jack swing sound, that's the song that immediately comes to mind, and therefore to me, represents the 90s sound. Ultimately, Boyz II Men built their reputation as an R&B group that hearkened back to the days of Motown and illicits comparison to Motown groups such as The Temptations. And lets be frank, they dropped the best vocals of any pop group in my lifetime. But since this is a review of "Motown Philly," my emphasis is not on R&B at this moment, but on hip hop and what it has meant to me. Hip Hop began as party music. Starting from it's roots in Jamaica and taking foot in the Bronx, DJs such as Kool Herc emphasized loud soundsystems, heavy beats, and hyping the crowd. Back then, hip hop was all about forgetting the struggle of normal life and just partying to a dope beat. Somewhere along the way, hip hop became brand conscious (My Adidas by Run DMC), political (Public Enemy), and a narrative for the struggles of inner city youth (NWA). These groups were all important in my evolution of a hip hop fan: my love affair with Hip Hop began with Run DMC, listening to my brother's bootleg copy of Raising Hell with tracks such as It's Tricky, Peter Piper, Walk this Way, and You Be Illin; NWA's Straight Out of Compton was the very first tape I bought; and Public Enemy's Apocalypse 91 was the first rap CD I ever bought. In the 90s, hip hop took on more jazzy sounds (A Tribe Called Quest) and then became dominated by the g-funk sound (Dre, Snoop, Warren G) and I loved it all. But somewhere in between, R&B and hip hop started to converge a little bit, which is ultimately what the new jack swing sound was: soulful and harmonizing melodies and vocals over big beats.

In the 2000s, R&B and Hip Hop artists have become so intertwined (collaborations with John Legend, Alicia Keys, Lauren Hill, etc. with Kanye, Jay Z, The Roots, etc), but there was none of that in the 80s. The two genres were distinctly unique. In the late 80s and early 90s, I listened pretty much exclusively to "slow jamz" by R&B artists such as Babyface and rappers such as those mentioned above. The convergence of these sounds was amazing to me, and the beats brought me back to the early days of hip hop, when it was just about having a good time.

And though it was Teddy Riley of Blackstreet that is credited with the new jack swing sound, no song captures the feeling of new jack swing more so than Motown Philly (Cooleyhighharmony, by the way, was the very first CD I ever bought). And so begins my review of the lyrics for Motown Philly [my comments in brackets].

[the song starts of with just the hottest beat ever! it always gets me pumped up, and then the snares hit, and BAM. just awesome]

Chorus:
Motownphilly back again
Doin' a little east coast swing
Boyz II Men going off
Not too hard, not too soft

[First off, this song is a tribute to their hometown of Philly, which is something that is prevalent in the culture of black music (and if we were to just talk about love for Philly, there's the Fresh Prince and The Roots that have paid homage to their city of brotherly love). Then there's the new jack swing sound: not too hard, not too soft.]

It's long overdue but now
Philly's slammin'
Boyz II Men, ABC, BBD
The east coast family
Never skipped a beat, na
While cooling on south street
Jet black benz, plenty of friends
And all the philly steaks you can eat

[Philly's slammin'...jet black benz, plenty of friends...I just imagine good times and streets filled with energy. Is a jet black benz materialistic? yes, but that's also a part of the culture of branding and hip hop. "Boyz II Men, ABC, BBD" is another part of the culture; representing your crew. "And all the philly steaks you can eat" - c'mon, who doesn't love philly steaks!]

Back in school
We used to dream about this everyday
Could it really happen?
Or do dreams fade away, yeah
Then we started singin'
They said it sounded smooth
So we started a group and here we are
Kickin' it just for you

[This is another theme that is common throughout hip hop (the best example of which would be Juicy by Biggie). Dreaming of making it big, making a better life, making the most of your talents.]

Chorus

Michael bivins' rap:
Yo these four new jacks is real
Smooth on the harmony tip
Nate, mike, shawn, and wan
You know the mentality
Keep flippin' the gift

The spotlight is on us now
Watch us do this
Da da, daaa da da, da da da da da da
Live and direct from philly town
Rap and hype and we can get down
We are ready to roll
So now the world will know that we flow

[listen closely here. The song doesn't go completely acapella, but when they sing "da da..." there's a pause in the background instrumentals that emphasizes the vocals, which kind of puts the listener in the middle of their audition to Bivins.]

Back in school we used to dream about this everyday
Could it really happen?
Or do dreams fade away
Then we started singing them
They said it sounded smooth
So we started a group and here we are
Kickin' it just for you

Chorus

Boyz II Men, Boyz II Men, Boyz II Men, Boyz II Men, Boyz II Men, Boyz II Men
Then we started singing them
They said it sounded smooth

Michael bivins' rap:
Now check this out
One day back in philly
Four guys wanted to sing
They came up to me i said
What's your name? (boyz ii men)
Ya know what i'm sayin'
Than i said alright fellas
Well let me see what you can do
And then wan said
Yo mike, check this out
See if this one moves you

[and sometimes you just have to catch a lucky break and have someone take a chance on you. In this case it was Michael Bivins of Bell Biv Devoe. In fact, it's come full circle for Boyz II Men, whho got their name from New Edition's song, "Boys to Men," and performed an acapella version of New Edition's "Can You Stand the Rain" for Bivins. So here Michael bivins is backstage at his concert, listening to these young cats from Philly that are named after one of his songs, singing one of his songs for him.]

Doom doom doom da da, doom doom doom da da
Da di da di da da, da da, daa daa daa
Doom doom doom da da, doom doom doom da da
Da di da di da da, da da, daa daa daa ohh

[ok yeah, written down, this looks stupid, but it's really all about showcasing the range of their voices and harmony. You gotta admit, these brothas can sing.]

Chorus

Boyz II Men, Boyz II Men, Boyz II Men
Boyz II Men, ABC, BBD

Footnotes:
[1] Wikipedia - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boyz_II_Men

Review of Great Song Lyrics in Music History #1

"Cotton Candy, Sweet and Low, Let me See that Tootsie Roll!"

-69 Boyz, TOOTSEE ROLL

PROOF of Awesomeness:

Step 1:
Cotton Candy and Sweet and Low are sugary objects, as are tootsie rolls. These three items belong with each other in a list. This is logical.

Step 2:
"Tootsie Roll" has another meaning: it is a dance move, as evidenced by 1) "see" that Tootsie Roll, as in "see" you pull off that dance move, and 2) subsequent rythmic commands in the song that makes one move to the left, left, right, right, front, front, back, back, tilt baby tilt.

Step 3:
Thus, we are left to infer that if the sentence is to remain logical in its double meaning listing, then "Cotton Candy" and "Sweet and Low" are - hold on to your britches - also to be considered dance moves.

Societal Implications:
That these dance moves are only inferred and not described at any length in the song makes listener/dancer pause and think of all the possibilities of dance out there! Thinking of this larger context, all the while moving to the front, back, and sides, one is not only "in the moment" of the dance (as only the best dance provide for us), but one is also placed in the existential context of being but a mere ant of a dance participant - a drone in a form of recreation celebrated for its expression of individuality! Just as a soldier, upon looking into grimy and exhausted face of an enemy soldier, understands that "we are all participants in a larger game of War..." dancers are similarly asking themselves as they dance "I am a participant in a larger human condition, a condition that will dance a perhaps even funner dance when I am dead and gone..."

Dare I analyze further: that perhaps the 69 Boys already have dance moves for the Cotton Candy and the Sweet and Low, and are holding out on us until the time is right, when we are ready for it...

UPDATE: So...the lyrics aren't "sweet and low", they are "sweetie go." My proof lies in ruins. 69 Boyz Suck.

Review: Birth

Yesterday, I watched a Nicole Kidman film called 'Birth'. It was a good film. There was one shot where the camera stayed on Nicole Kidman's face for three minutes while she was watching an opera, and this was a turning point in the movie. I don't know if Sumo Bean will like this. I don't think he'll like the scene where a ten year old boy undresses himself and shares a bathtub with Nicole Kidman. But it is a good film. The screenwriting credits have French names in them.

The movie is about a widower who learns that a ten year old boy may or may not be her dead husband reincarnated. If they wanted to make this movie more erie, they should have had the husband come back as a fat cat named Babs, who scoots her poopy butt across the tile after she visits the litter.

Sigh, time to clean the floor. It's a good movie, really it is.

Superior Rancho Taqueria, con Pollo!

And now it's time to review a wet chicken burrito. Fortunately, these are not made of wet chickens. The first thing is, why chicken? Why not carne asada? Well, part of the reason is for you, dear reader, since we have already reviewed a wet carne asada burrito. Another part is that, as I recently bought about $300 worth of red meat, it seemed like a good idea to have some white meat instead, never mind all the cheese in a wet burrito.

Unlike the carne asada, this burrito had no sliced avocado. Instead, I got a bag of oily chips (foreground). There are two types of restaurant chips: the oily kind with the heavy savory taste, and the light , fluffy kind. These were of the former.

The choice of chicken was well-rewarded. The chicken used for this burrito was, of course, quite lean. And it had that film of crispy oiliness surrounding the individual pieces like the veneer that is evocative of El Pollo Loco, sans the charboriledness and the lemon.

Almost makes up for a bad showing (so far) in Portland by the Los Angeles Lakers. Maybe if the team had had some Superior Rancho wet burritos, they would be sitting pretty right now.

Review of Obama's Gift to Brown

from the Guardian.co.uk:

In return for a pen holder carved from the timbers of the sister ship of the one the White House desk is made from and a first edition of a seven-volume biography of Winston Churchill, the Mail is appalled that "Barack Obama, the leader of the world's richest country" gave Brown a box set of 25 DVDs selected by the American Film Institute. These, it says, include Raging Bull, Casablanca, Psycho and The Graduate. It is, the Mail says, "a gift about as exciting as a pair of socks" (photo: Jason Reed/Reuters)

At first I was like, cool! Pen holder carved from wood of a sister ship! And equally apalled: with Obma's gift. DVDs? I saw a lot of these films on sale at the Virgin Megastore in Hollywood (going out of business in June of this year, God Bless her Soul) for $10 each. Obama gave the British Prime Minister a $250 gift - and they weren't even on blu-ray. wtf?

Reading the guardian, I discovered that people are looking really hard into the intent behind these gifts. Is Gordon Brown kissing up? Is Obama talking down to our ally? I've come up with a few questions of my own.

1) Does Brown get to keep the DVDs, or do they stay with the office of the Prime Minister?
2) When was the last time I used a pen holder?
3) Why didn't Obama really send a message to England with VHS tapes? Or laser discs? Or just give Brown a flashdrive with the movies downloaded off of Bittorrent? (in our economy, being cheap is not only forgivable, but respectable)
4) What movies would I include in this boxed set?
A: W. by Oliver Stone. To remind you guys to be grateful. The Patriot, with Mel Gibson, to remind you guys to be grateful. And Watchmen, because we have Dr. Manhattan, and you should be grateful we do. And Shakespeare in Love, to remind them that they came up with Shakespeare, who is overrated, and (my friend TomatoJT will love this...) who stole from Christopher Marlowe, as a reminder of how great the British might think they are culturally, because really, we can't make them feel grateful all the time, can we?

I like the British, really (they did give us Virgin, and Virgin Megastore, didn't they?). I like pretending I have their accents. And I know there is much more fun a person can make of our country than any other country - I get that. I just don't like the British news, who seem to be the ones kicking up dust over this.

A final note: a seven volume biography of Winston Churchill is neat, but isn't it a bit presumptuous that their great former leader (who as I recall lost his post war election) is worth that much unedited attention? I don't know if anyone is worth that much attention - it borders on Hero Worshipping, which is an ugly trait to have. Obama should've given them a seven volume biography on Miley Cyrus out of spite. As Bruce mentioned, "Miley" is the old Jewish term for "Messiah." She is the light of my life. Witch.

Sumo Bean's review of the movie "Taken"

This movie is BADASS. The End.






OK, just kidding, that's not all I'm going to write, although, it really sufficiently describes the movie. But to please Sir Etimus, I will write a real review.

Basically, if Kim Bauer got kidnapped and Jack Bauer went ape shit on the lowlife human traffickers that sold her into prostitution, you would have the same movie, only Jack Bauer has only 24 hours whereas Qui Gon Jin has 96 hours to exact some Jedi Vengeance.

The movie, starring Liam Neeson as an ex-CIA agent or secret service agent (the movie never reveals his occupation, only that he worked for the US government as a "preventor"), starts off with Liam trying to make up for lost time with his daughter after a lifetime of service to his country. The first fifteen minutes or so sets up the backdrop up until the moment that Liam's daughter, played by Maggie Grace (who happens to be really hot), frantically calls Liam as she is about to get kidnapped. If you've seen the trailers, then you are familiar with this scene, when Liam talks to the kidnappers and says something to the effect of: "I have accumulated a particular set of skills over a long career that makes me a nightmare for people like you. If you let my daughter go, that will be the end of it. I will not look for you. If you don't, I WILL find you, and I WILL kill you."

DAYAMN! That was intense. What a badass. If you have to take a piss, make sure you do it during this first 15 minutes, because after that phone call, you don't want to miss one bone-jarring minute of the non-stop, jizz-in-yo-pants action that fills out the rest of this movie. The action is very similar to a Bourne movie. In fact, Liam's character has the fighting skills, adaptability, intuition, and superspy sixth sense of Jason Bourne; the ruthlessness and sense of urgency of Jack Bauer; and the creativity of Macguyver. From here on out, there's not a moment that will bore you, and there are several moments that will make you gasp and say "damn, did he really do that? What a badass!"

And if your girlfriend is reluctant to watch this movie due to it's gratuitous violence, make sure that you tell her that the backbone, the skeleton if you will, of this movie is really a father-daughter story--a father trying to make up for lost time with his daughter and the lengths a father will go to keep his daughter safe. It just so happens that this backbone comes layered with lots of muscle--violent, steroid-enhanced muscle that would keep BALCO busy for years.

Watch it. Because if you don't, Liam will find you, and he will kill you.

*Update*
While watching Taken in our hotel room in Tahoe:
Ben: Pay attention, this scene is badass
Phil: ...Oh sh*t! Ra's al Ghul just kicked his ass!
Jon: Batman's teacher can f*ck anyone up.

testing?

Spy Hunter

(picture courtesy of http://blog.wired.com/photos)

Videogame Review

This 1987 Nintendo Entertainment System (NES) game has sapped something out of my head. I have a headache now and I am convinced that where there is throbbing, there once was an inspired article about the nostalgia of endless days playing NES games on an old Quasar television, of purchasing games for fifty bucks with my own chore money saved up over the course of thirteen months, and giving your whole life to that game.

Maybe there was something in my head that wanted to discuss how, in a simpler time, with fewer entertainment options and fewer luxuries, an insanely difficult game with the glaze of a premise - you're a spy in car/boat, avoiding other spies! - would be more than enough for one's imagination to run rampant. Surely as a child, I must have beamed myself into the cockpit of the bird's eye view of the Spy Hunter car, added roaring realistic waves in the 8-bit river levels where there were none, and designed for myself the black leather interior of my Spy Car, littered the dashboard, the seats, the ceiling and the doors with gadgets and buttons and monitors galore. Surely I must have seen the nefarious look in my enemies's eyes behind their Spy-Tech (tm) sunglasses and evil smirks as they moved in to run me off the road with their spiked wheels.

But today, I only have a headache. With Game Genie on and the previously unheard of (by that I mean pre 1991) infinite life cheat triggered, I realized that this game has no end. The only thing that might have kept kids going, besides their self-created love for spy-lore, was the achievment of a high score. The score maxes out at 1,000,000. With Game Genie on, I reached 83,2005 points before quitting. With game genie on, progress was still slower than hardened molasses, as I'd pull out of my truck and immediately get bumped off road by a random car. How did I ever commit hours to this game? I could have learned a new language in that time...

This game sucks. It is only great in the grand and endless memory of 80s children. Any flights of fancy worth memorializing are the creation and trademark of all those many kids, who have created explosive, adrenaline-filled, daring dreams plastered on a template of unforgiving, sloppily designed, undeserving video game levels that dared to exploit us. So, in summary, I guess I'm thankful for memories of these fantasies, even if I am reluctant to give credit to the game that helped spurn them.

Now to take an Excedrin...

Superior Ranch Taqueria = Superior Wet Burrito

This review, the very first review on Ludwig's Congress, goes out to my friend Sumo Bean, a PhD wielding smarty-smart smart who appreciates good meat.

Superior Ranch Taqueria is a little store/market that looks a little lopsided from the exterior (it seems to lean to the left). It is located withing walking distance from the Staples Center on the other side of the 110 freeway, next to Shamrock parking. It is a new establishment - it recently replaced it's wall hinged television bowl with a flat panel television that constantly plays soccer games or soap operas in Spanish. There is a nice cook named Peter and another cook who smiles a lot, whom I can only communicate with by pointing at the paper menu: Wet Burrito, "Carne Asaaaada", and five tacos + drink, "Carne Asaaada, no onions, girlfriend not like onions..."

The food? Absolutely orgasmically amazing, in my humble opinion.

For $5.50, the wet burrito - an onslaught of carne asada (or meat of your choice), rice, beans, and tortilla, smothered in salsa, onions, sliced tomatoes, avocado, and occasionally (depending on the chef) guacamole. It is a gargantuan burrito swimming in soupy sauce (which the chefs seem to add more with my every visit). Holistically it is perfect, transcendent, and - like all great culinary masterpieces - adaptive. What do I mean by adaptive? I mean that it changes its taste and its fun factor depending on where you are on your journey to burritos-end. Your first bite: piping hot, juicy, bite sized. Your fourth bite: the tortilla has opened up, the levies broken, and out has fallen the ingredients, swimming in salsa, red sauce, and melted gooey cheese, its composition altering like molecules realigning themselves into complex proteins. Your last bite: you are fishing for meaty goodies in the soup, stuffed to your britches, quite full but very stubborn in getting to the end. Sumo Bean, this is a very good burrito. I love it, girlfriend likes it, Ludwig Dog demands it.

The tacos. Five tacos and a drink for $5.00. Succulent tacos that need no salsa. The meat is drenched in its own juices. This is Girlfriend's preferred choice. It is quite good. Although I love onions, I must admit, the lack of onions that Girlfriend prefers really brings out the meat juices. My arteries love me.

Notes on the food: if you take the food to go, please be aware that the sauce in the wet burrito tends to spill over, as the container is filled to the brim already. In fact, the insides of the take-out bag was already awash in red sauce when my meal package was handed to me - how awesome is that? I understand you might not want to inconvenience yourself with the mess, but barring a Laker game attendance down the street, prohibiting yourself from enjoying this meal because you are afraid of a little back splash is a coward's decision. And a coward does not deserve this wet burrito.

Speaking about Laker games, it is my hope that this restaurant/market sees more business from attendees of L.A. Live. I recommend dining here before your Clipper or Kings games or show starts (Laker games, again, are exempt because one must be dressed at one's best for the church of Pau Gasol and company) - Superior Ranch Taqueria is only open from 8am to 9pm.

I haven't actually dined at Superior Ranch Taqueria myself - I always get it to go - but the ambiance is engaging. This is a mom and pop store. There are uniform tables and chairs scattered throughout. The walls are pastel like - brown and oranges (who the heck knows, I'm color blind). Across from the service line is a painting of a buff Aztec warrior holding a super-model-like female in his arms. Very interesting. Having grown up in a liquor store, I appreciate this place. I appreciate watching the evolution of this up-start establishment. From the upgrade in television to the slowly filling stocks of canned meats in the market shelves, this place is exciting in the way sim-city is. There is progression to this place. Looking at the coffee table with the non-bulk type coffee maker, one can imagine one's self putting this place together as the funds become available. The next visit, you see the handwritten menu replaced by printed menus. Styrofoam cups of different sizes with S, M, and L pop up to assist you in your decision making. There is much going on in this place, located in the orange-ish left leaning building at 1320 West 11th Street, Los Angeles CA, 90015.

In summary, you don't need to be a PhD or be a smarty-smart smart to enjoy this establishment's wet burrito and tacos. (do you like how I tied the whole review back to the beginning? I learned that sign-off from the local news! Shows that I'm a smarty smart smart too!)

p.s.: I took a picture of the monster burrito in 12 Megapixel glory. Can't upload it for the life of me. This is a shame, but anything less than 12 megapixels for this wet burrito is insufficient.

Prologue: Welcome to the Congress

It's a lazy, post-rain, now sunny Wednesday afternoon - what better set up is there to begin blogging? A few of my concerns/disclaimers:

1) I realize that blogging is inherently narcissistic on some level. I mean, any writer has to have enough conceit to think his words or his story is important enough to be read, yes? And by definition, that means any blog hopes to distinguish itself relative to other opinions and stories, yes? I am fully aware of this. I completely agree with this. I hate bloggers and critics who think themselves important - people who can only show true wit when they are mean jerks. Having said this...

2) I think myself important enough to have a blog, and call it a Congress, and think this is clever because I just read Jorge Luis Borges's short story 'the Congress', which is a story about optimistic adults who create a representative Congress of the world only to discover it is useless because the best representation of the world - the one that best encapsulates every nuanced opinion, story, point of view, and idiosyncracy of the human condition - is the world itself. Heck, I think myself important enough to say "I read Jorge Luis Borges." But oh well, it's what's on my mind right now, and this is a blog that answers to no level of authority, and I'm not using my real name (Ludwig is my dog's name), so these deceptions shall set me free...

3) I foresee myself discussing movies and books a lot. I see that there is a difference between what one likes, and what makes a movie or book "good." For instance, I love Chip n' Dale's Rescue Rangers. Chip n' Dales doesn't really hold up anymore. But I still love it. I still feel the Fizz of KooKoo Cola (check it out on youtube at the 1:19 mark - it's bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S).

3) I have never taken a course on criticizing things.