NOTE: Damn it!! How many times do I have to go through this? I’ve got this friend, here called “Neelix.” Every once in a while, I e-mail him all my thoughts about what’s currently bugging me in pop culture. I started posting them as columns. Got it? I’m not saying this again.

Hey Neelix!

I don’t know why, but Pokémon has been foremost on my mind lately. YTV has just begun re-running the whole series from the very beginning again, and I noticed something very cool. The very first episode of Pokémon begins with a Game Boy screen in the middle of the TV screen. On it, the opening screens of the Pokémon Game Boy game are playing out. Then, the picture slowly grows to fill the TV screen, switches to color, and the music switches from tinny Game Boy beeps to full orchestrations. I thought it was a very clever homage to Pokémon‘s origins.

While I’m on this Pokémon rant, I’d like to thank you for inviting me up to your place for that DVD weekend. I finally got to hear the running commentary on the Pokémon: The First Movie DVD. It was actually quite interesting, if you’re into Pokémon. They talked about some of the troubles they’ve had dubbing it for North American audiences. The one that sticks out the most was when they were talking about Meowth. In the original Japanese version, Meowth is a poet and philosopher. In fact, they mentioned that on the Japanese version of the show, Meowth sings the closing credits song, in which he outlines his outlook on life. However, in the American version, they decided to make him into a wise-ass. This change was OK, until one scene near the end of the first movie. Meowth is getting ready to fight his clone, when he decides not to, and gets all preachy about the dangers of violence and that we’re all the same underneath. Now, while this is perfectly in character for the Japanese Meowth, it’s out of character for the American Meowth. The translators had a hell of a time trying to turn that scene into something American Meowth appropriate, and they were incredibly close to cutting the scene. But they liked the message of that scene, so they left it in. Some other nifty tidbits about Pokémon: The First Movie, and the show:

– 20% of the film was re-animated for North American release. Any scene with computer animation is one of the re-done ones.

– The original Japanese title of Pokémon The First Movie: Mewtwo Strikes Back was…Mewtwo Strikes Back.

– The woman who does the voice of Misty actually won an award for her work on the show. Not only is she the voice of Misty, she’s also the voice of Jessie, the odd female guest star, and three dozen pokémon.

– The American translation director of both the first film and the series also does the voices of Chramander, Psyduck, and a few other pokémon. He started doing it little realizing how many times they would be popping back up.

– You think these translators would be more insistent of subtitles. They HATE trying to match up the dialogue with the number of “mouth flaps” a character has. They loved the character of Mewtwo, because he’s psychic, and speaks without opening his mouth.

And speaking of Pokémon, let’s talk about “Weird Al” Yankovic. I picked up the soundtrack to Pokémon the Movie 2000 the other day for one reason only: the new song Weird Al contributed to it. I’m a little disappointed. How do you feel when you think that one of your heroes has sold out? Weird Al’s song is called Polkamon, and my original intonations were right. It’s a standard Weird Al polka, in which he rattles off the names of several pokémon. He doesn’t even go through all 150! It’s also a short song, clocking in at 2 minutes on the nose. It’s a performance he phoned in. The rest of the album is pretty weak, too. It sounds mostly like leftover 80’s pop. Why would Weird Al contribute to something like this? My only thought is a truckload of money was backed up to his door. I don’t know what’s worse, the fact that this album sucks, or that I feel like buying the soundtrack for the first movie “for completeness.”

But who knows? Maybe my worries are unfounded. Maybe Weird Al did this because he’s a fan of the show. Yeah, that’s it! Weird Al loves Pokémon. He was having lunch one day, he was inspired, and he scrawled out Polkamon on the back of a napkin. He then called the producers of the movie, told them what a big fan he was, and asked if he could stick this song in the next movie. And monkeys might fly out of my butt. Why, Weird Al, why? Oh, well. I’ll get over it.

Enough of this talk of Pokémon, now! Let us talk about my true passion: action figures! I swung by the official Star Wars action figure site the other day, and learned all about the big packaging re-design that’s coming up. As you know right now, classic trilogy figures come in a green package with Darth Vader’s face in the upper left corner. The Episode I figures come in a red package with Darth Maul’s face in the upper left corner. Both kinds come with COMMTECH chips. The new packages will be green. In the upper left corner is two classic Star Wars characters: Darth Vader’s iconic helmet in the background, and young jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi in an attack pose in the foreground. Yup, they are standardizing the packs for all figures. Also, they won’t come with COMMTECH chips anymore. Now, they’ll come with “Jedi Force Files.” It’s a little booklet, telling you everything you ever wanted to know about that character but were afraid to ask.

I’m a little disappointed in my self-control. I went to Toys R Us the other day, to check up on the latest in the action figure universe. I wasn’t going to buy anything, just look. So what do I do? Drop $35 in action figures. But I think it was worth it. I was going through the aisles, just checking things out, when what do I spot? McFarlane Toys’ Bob & Doug McKenzie action figures! I was torn! Should I buy them? I mean, it’s friggin’ Bob & Doug McKenzie, in plastic! For me to recreate all those classic scenes from Strange Brew! This decision weighed heavy on my heart. Should I, or shouldn’t I? These were pretty pricey figures: $17 each. I finally decided that I would wait until next time. But then I took a closer look. There was only on Bob left, and one Doug left. “Mark,” I said to myself. “There may not be a next time.” And I bought them. They are friggin’ cool figures, and I don’t regret my decision one bit.

Next time I go action figure shopping, I’ll probably do an X-Men: The Movie shopping spree. Actually, an interesting tidbit on the X-Men action figures. Famke “Jean Grey” Jannsen was on Late Night with Conan O’Brian the other night, and talking about how the action figures were always on the set of the movie. She also then pointed out how she and other cast members would put the action figures in lewd positions. Her exact quote: “We had them humping each other all the time.” Oh, how creative these Hollywood stars are!

Anyway, my system is flushed of pop culture oddities now. See ya!

Mark

So, I’ve got this friend Kenten. He’s been a major character in my columns, but normally I change his name. This time around, though, his true name gets dragged through the mud. Here I go and spend days crafting my columns, but Kenten always goes and declares these mini-ramblings I throw off the top of my head “the funniest things I’ve ever written.” Just for you now, I’ve compiled that funniest things I’ve ever written, according to Kenten. Hey! And it just occurred to me that Kenten was always responsible for their creation. I hope you’re happy, Kenten!
Continue reading The Funniest Things I’ve Ever Written (According to Kenten) →

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve developed bizarre emotional attachments to inanimate objects. When I was 8, we were going to trade in our rusty old van for something newer and smaller; a car. But, when we went down to the dealership to close the deal, I burst into tears. I just couldn’t bear the thought of saying goodbye to Henry. (That was the van’s name.) I cried and cried all throughout the test drive, because I didn’t want to give up Henry. So, my parents caved. They bought the car (her name was Lucy), and we kept Henry for another 11 years. When I hit 19, I was old enough to say goodbye to Henry, and we bought a shiny blue pick-up (the little blue mule). I don’t know why. I know it’s just a car, and cars aren’t alive, but I grow attached to them.

I was reminded of this recently when we did some large-scale gardening in our front yard. In our front yard, we had this huge black poplar tree. It was just one large tree. But, age was getting to it. The top third was dead, and had all these large, barren branches sticking out. Whenever we had a large gust of wind, one of these branches would break off, and come crashing down into our front yard. I kept saying we should do something about it, perhaps climb up there and prune out all those dead branches. But, my parents, being the infinite guardians of wisdom that they are, decided that perhaps the whole tree should come down. “It’s dying,” they said. “Better we get rid of it before it blows down and crushes the car.” I had to admit, there was a certain logic to what they said. It was getting to look a little like that Tree of the Dead in the movie Sleepy Hollow. At least the top third. So, the tree was coming down.

The falling was originally scheduled for Sunday, July 9. But, we’ve been getting a lot of rain lately, and the event was rained out. Dad was up at the crack of dawn removing the fence for the front yard so it wouldn’t be in the way. We sat around all day waiting. But, the guy didn’t come, and the tree won a brief stay of execution.

The next day came. I jumped out of the shower to the sounds of chainsaws. I ran out to the kitchen, looked out the window, and there was the bucket truck. They were going to take down some of the larger branches first, and then the tree would come down. I ran downstairs and got dressed. I came back upstairs. I really wanted to see this. What is it about us that wants to witness acts of mass destruction. And so I watched. And waited. The bucket truck soon moved out of the way. Our lumberjack came up with his chainsaw, and placed it against the trunk of the tree. He then turned to his assistant and said “We’re gonna need the big one!” He went back to the truck and got the big chainsaw. He started up “the big one,” and placed it against the trunk of the tree. A few quick cuts, and down it came. I glanced at my watch. I was late for work.

As I drove off, I kept thinking about what I had just witnessed. I couldn’t help but feel saddened in a way. It was one big tree. I remembered the rotting old birdhouse that was in that tree, and how we eventually removed the old one and put up a new one. I remember when we first moved into this house, there was this big gash in the side of the tree. Over the next 11 years that I lived in the house, I watched that gash slowly get filled in and covered up. Was this some kind of inanimate object, or was it actually alive? I mean, on an inanimate object, the gash would not have filled. It would have just sat there. But here, the it healed itself. Like a living thing.

Did I just witness the deconstruction of an eyesore, or a murder? It weighed heavy on my heart. Who are we to define what life is and isn’t? I mean, trees grow, breath, and reproduce. Some varieties even eat. Just like us. But our definition of life seems to revolve around weather something can think, and I’ve never seen a tree show signs of intelligent thought. But should that be enough of a definition? Since we all grew up with the fad of environmentalism, we all know that trees are vital to our existence on this planet. They take our waste CO₂, and turn it into the O₂ which we all breath and love. So, did I just remove a tree, or did a kill an innocent life form which I needed to survive? Don’t you just love how the everyday can turn into a moral debate?

I returned home that night to be greeted by a stump, no higher than ground level. Such a mighty tree, reduced to this tiny speck. My Mom let me in on some of the facts about the tree that the lumberjack discovered. It was 90 years old, and still quite healthy. My heart sank. If we had just went up there and pruned out the dead stuff like I had originally proposed, it probably would have lived another 90 years. But, it’s gone now. Now we never again have to fear that it will fall in a windstorm and crush the car. The tree also no longer shades our deck, and it gets ungodly hot about mid-afternoon.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like the front yard is completely barren now. It is still well shaded by four rather large trees of varying variety. And our back yard has five trees of various sizes. But something about that big black poplar I’ll miss. Maybe because it was so big. There aren’t a lot of big trees in people’s yards anymore.

After supper that night, I had to go for I walk. I needed to go next door and check on the future. We look after our neighbour’s yard ever since she went into the nursing home, and we recently tore down an old shack that was on her property. Her front yard is now this huge bare spot. A week earlier, my parents and I went into Edmonton for the Canada Day festivities (that, and we always wanted to see the High Level Bridge Waterfall). There, they were giving away free trees. Being the pig I am, I helped myself to two. I went home, and planted them in our neighbour’s yard. Hey, she’ll probably never be home again, and she’s got the room. But anyway, I looked down on those seedlings. They seem to be doing pretty good. They are still young, but as soon as this rain clears up and they get a shot of sunshine, they will grow like weeds.

And in this death, there is new life. I’ll miss that old tree, but I have replanted. I am ensuring for the future. And who knows? Perhaps, in 90 years or so, those trees will spark another philosophical debate in another young man. And that same young man will plead with his parents not to trade in their car. And everything old is new again….

Life tends to be comprised of big things and little things. Most often, if you pick things apart, you will see that most big things are comprised of little things. I recently had quite a big thing happen to me. Way back when I was still frantically job hunting, I e-mailed a resume to the Jasper Tramway. The Jasper Tramway is one of my favorite places in the whole world, and I would give anything to work there. I applied to be a tram operator; the guy who actually drives the tram up and down the mountain. I tell you, that would be a dream job for me. So, one Sunday morning, my mother frantically gets me out of bed. “It’s the Jasper Tramway!” she said. I picked up the phone, and this is what the guy had to say.
Continue reading Bag Boy Blues →

Remember the compliments. Forget the insults. And if you ever figure out how to do this, tell me how. — From the song Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunscreen)

Recently, my self-esteem has suffered a few blows, and I’ve been thrown into one of those introspective funks usually reserved for my birthday. Let me explain to you what’s going on.

Continue reading [untitled] →

When I was a kid, I read a lot of Archie comics. There was this one that always stuck out in my mind. That was the one where Archie and Betty got really drunk one night and lost their virginity to each other. No! I kid! There was no such issue of Archie. The one I’m talking about was this one where the gang was playing this game. Reggie was going to go hide somewhere in town, and the rest of the gang had until sundown to find him. Of course, nothing can be simple in the world of comics. Reggie ate a bad doughnut from Pop’s, so the kids had to find him before he keeled over from food poisoning. Now, you are probably asking “Why does this story stick out? Get back to that Archie-doing-Betty thing.” It sticks out for one simple reason: I always wanted to play that game.

Think about it. It’s essentially extreme hide and seek. Rather than just hiding in your parents’ backyard, a whole town is your playground. Rather than one person searching for a group of people, it’s the one who is the hunted. This would be the ultimate test of individual resourcefulness. You’d be MacGyver for a day. Richard Kimbal in pursuit of the one-armed man. The hunter and the hunted. I’m getting giddy just thinking about it.

This has been dwelling a lot on my mind lately. I’ve already spent many a day dreamy afternoon devising strategies for my home town. There are essentially two strategies in something like this. You can either keep moving, or you can find a place to hide. If you choose to hide, then it had better be one damn good place. I’ve gone through my home town in my mind. Where would be the best places to hide? Who’s place is deserted, and wouldn’t notice me sneaking through the backyard? Is that place technically in town?

But then I start moving out of the town. There’s that provincial park just down the hill. Lots of trees. Lots of places to hide. Hah. I’ve been going to that park every summer ever since I was a boy. I know every square centimeter. They’d never find me in the park. But then, where’s the challenge in that? Knowing that I’d win? And besides, there are lots more challenges in the urban environment.

So I start plotting some more. I begin plotting strategies for smaller parts of large cities…like West Edmonton Mall. And then I start plotting strategies for small cities…like Camrose. Then, I plot strategies for every village, town, and city I’ve ever visited. I quite possibly think I could hide for days just about anywhere. But then, that’s where the sadness sets in.

I’ll never be able to test these strategies. How do you ask your friends to play a game like this? “Yeah, you hunt me down like a dog, and I see if I can hide from you. Yup, I’ll be in the whole town somewhere. No, I’m serious. C’mon, it’ll be fun. What do you mean, what’s the point? To see if I can hide from the cops if I’m ever accused of a crime I didn’t commit. No! I didn’t do anything illegal! This is just for fun. No, it’s not weird. I got it from an old issue of Archie!” See, it just doesn’t work that way. It’s a very bizarre game to ask people to play with you.

Seeing as to how I’m kind of becoming the developer of this game, I think I should start laying down some ground rules. Like in Fight Club. But before I lay down the rules, I guess I should name this game. Fugitive seems appropriate. So, let’s lay down some rules:

First rule of Fugitive: do not talk about Fugitive. Actually, feel free to talk about it. The more the merrier. I just couldn’t resist the cheap Fight Club joke.

Second rule of Fugitive: there will be only one Fugitive in a game. There will be a minimum of six hunters.

Third rule of Fugitive: there is a time limit. In villages (i.e. Entwistle), games only go for six hours. In towns/small cities (i.e. Camrose), nine hours. In large cities (i.e. Edmonton), twelve hours.

Fourth rule of Fugitive: the Fugitive gets a half-hour head start.

Fifth rule of Fugitive: when the game begins, the Fugitive can carry no gear with him/her, except the following: wrist watch (to know when the game ends), wallet, and an agreed upon amount of money. All other gear/equipment must be bought/stolen/borrowed during the game. Well, not stolen. I’d like to keep this legal.

Sixth rule of Fugitive: the game ends one of two ways. When a hunter makes physical contact with the Fugitive, the hunters win. If the Fugitive stays hidden until the time limit expires, the Fugitive wins.

Seventh rule of Fugitive: anything goes in tracking the Fugitive. Anything within the confines of the law, of course. I’d like to keep this legal.

Eighth rule of Fugitive: the Fugitive must stay within the boundaries of the agreed upon play area. i.e. the city, town, village.

Ninth rule of Fugitive: try not to barge through stranger’s homes. If it’s a friend’s house, feel free about asking for a hiding place. Cutting through a stranger’s backyard is a grey area, though, so be careful if you do that.

Ideally, the hunters should have some kind of communication system so they can talk to each other. It’s not necessary, but seems like it would be appropriate. Cell phones are all cheap enough, they could all have a cell phone. And that, would be the game.

So, what do you think? Do I have too much time on my hands, or what? I can tell you one thing, I’d last longer than Reggie. I think I will ask my friends to try this next time we meet. Now that I’ve got the rules all laid out, there’s only one to test it. Play it. Can you survive?

NOTE: Oh, c’mon, do I have to do this? You all get it by now. I e-mail my buddy Neelix just to get whatever’s bugging me off my manly chest. If you don’t know this, where have you been?

Hey Neelix!

I hope you don’t mind, but before we get to the good stuff, I’d like to take a moment to bitch about the cancellation of one of my new favorite TV shows: Now and Again. If you didn’t watch it, here’s what it was about. The show followed the adventures of Michael Weissman, a happily married family man and insurance executive. He was killed in a freak subway accident in the pilot episode…or so his family thought. What really happened was a super-secret government organization rescued his brain, and put it in a genetically-manufactured 26-year old body, with “the strength of Superman, the speed of Michael Jordan, and the grace of Fred Astaire.” (or so the opening narration said.) And so, each episode chronicled the adventures of Mr. Weissman as he went about with Dr. Theodore Morris, the quasi-mad scientist who created him, on all kinds of adventures. Each episode was juxtaposed with a sub-plot about how his wife, daughter, and best friend were coping with his “death” and rebuilding their lives. One little wrinkle: Mr. Weissman is still madly in love with his wife and daughter, and if he reveals his true nature to them, they will be killed. The best episodes were when their paths crossed, and the extremes that Mr. Weissman (or, Mr. Newman as he adopted as his alias) would go through to keep her from knowing the truth. Oh, this show rocked! It’ll forever be remembered along side The Flash and Space: Above And Beyond as a show too cool to last.

Actually, I hope they do something to resolve the season finale cliffhanger that the final episode had. The Eggman, the villain that Mr. Weissman put away in the pilot, busted out of prison and went out seeking revenge. Roger (Mr. Weissman’s best friend) officially left his wife by looking for an apartment and sleeping with his real estate agent. Lisa (Mr. Weissman’s wife) stumbled upon some evidence that there was something funny about her husband’s death. Mr. Weissman, fearing that his wife had discovered the truth about him, escaped from the military facility where he resides and went to rescue his wife and daughter. I’ll never forget that image. Lisa and Heather (the daughter) are sitting around talking over her latest strange encounter with “Mr. Newman.” Then, Mr. Weissman busts in and yells “Run! They’re right behind me!” “Who?” they ask. “Men with guns!” Mr. Weissman yells. They storm out the back door. Then, we see the house at peace. A goldfish swims in it’s bowl. We see out the window at the beautiful day it is outside. A soldier crashes through that window. More soldiers bust through the front door. Dr. Morris enters, and barks the order: “FIND THEM!” Fade to black.

Actually, possibly spurned by this ending, my mind has lately been turned to what my favorite movie ending is. Now, I know what you’re thinking: movie ending? Wouldn’t the best movie ending be a case where the movie sucked, and you’re glad to be getting out of the theater? Not necessarily so. When you think about it, the end of a movie is your final impression of it. It is/should be the lasting imprint in your mind. As I stop to think about it, there are three movie endings that really stick out in my mind:

Back To The Future – I love the end of this film! Doc’s final line. (“Roads? Where we’re going we don’t need…roads.”) The way the car levitates 10 feet into the air. The jets fire and it flies off into the horizon. The music swells. The car does a 180. It flies straight into the screen. There’s a brilliant flash of light, and things fade to black. Then, those words appear on screen: “To Be Continued….” I love it!

The Blues Brothers – This ending always makes me laugh. Our heroes, Jake and Elwood, standing in the County Commissioner’s Office. The clerk (cameo appearance by Steven Spielberg) stamps their receipt and hands it to them. It’s a close-up on their hands as they grab the receipt. Shortly after they grab it, a third hand appears and slaps the cuffs on them. The camera pulls back, and we see they are surrounded by an army of cops, sheriffs, National Guardsmen, and other law enforcement officials. The opening bars of Jailhouse Rock play. We cut to Jake and Elwood, in prison, and giving a concert.

The X-Files – Yes, the movie based on the hit TV show made my list. It just leaves you with a sense of direness that, despite their efforts, the heroes didn’t win. Also, in my opinion, this is the only movie I’ve ever seen where the song that’s played during the end credits perfectly captures the mood of the end of the film.

So, I just watched The Iron Giant for the zillionth time. I think I told you this, but Michael Kamen, who did the music for Iron Giant, is doing the music for X-Men. The more I listen to the music for Iron Giant, the more I think that maybe he won’t completely suck. So far, all he’s revealed about his X-score is that each character has his/her own theme, and Mystique’s theme is “erotic and cello-based.” Now, as much as I’d love a full-blown orchestral, “classic” score, I think it would be better if he just let loose and used the full musical spectrum to score this. I don’t know, I just have this vision that Wolverine’s theme should be fast, angry, and heavy metal based, kinda like the theme for Batman Beyond. I am so curious about how this score is going to turn out. I just hope I can enjoy it along Danny Elfman’s Batman and John William’s Superman.

Oh, one last thing. As I’m writing this, I’m watching the James Bond movie Moonraker. Remember when I said that the music in The Black Hole seemed to much like left over James Bond music? Well, you should see Moonraker! Everything in there is left over Black Hole stuff! Especially at the end, when Bond goes up to the villain’s space station. The sets, the uniforms, the special effects, even the music, could have just been lifted from The Black Hole. You told me once you haven’t seen any Roger Moore Bond films, but you should just check out this one.

Oh, well. That’s all for now!

Mark

Every time I got a brilliant idea for a way to advertise my old college radio show, I’d jot down a little proposal to myself so I wouldn’t forget. Going through some old files on my hard drive, I happened to stumble across several of these old proposals. If you don’t mind, I’d like to share them with you as a testament to what might have been.

The “He’s Everywhere” Campaign
This campaign would have featured pictures of me at some of Augustana University College’s more famous landmarks: casually leaning against the statue of Martin Luther, sprawled out across the big brick entrance gate, dancing around in the Faith and Life center lounge, standing amongst that abstract sculpture out behind the theater building, and sitting on the steps of Old Main. Each poster would have featured the slogan “The Scarecrow. He’s everywhere,” plus all the typical vital stats for my show. I ultimately didn’t go with this campaign because, well, I couldn’t afford to produce that many color copies.

The “Not The Scarecrow” Campaign
This one was recommended by a friend of mine. What it would have consisted of was poster featuring various celebrities: Brad Pitt, Leonardo diCaprio, Pinhead from the Hellraiser films, and just plain anyone else I could think of. On each poster would be the slogan “Not the Scarecrow.” Then, it would be followed by “The only place to find the Scarecrow…” and all the vitals for my show. I ultimately didn’t go with this campaign because I just go lazy.

The Polka Dot Ribbon Campaign
When the annual purple ribbon campaign to generate awareness about violence against women started up on campus one year, I couldn’t help but be inspired to parody it. And so, I came up with the Polka Dot Ribbon Campaign to generate awareness of the Scarecrow. I’d sell all these polka dot ribbons to people, and they’d wear them. I ultimately didn’t go with this campaign because polka dot ribbon is incredibly hard to get a hold of.

Scarecrow Awareness Day
This evolved out of a protest that happened in the cafeteria one day that I just took offense to. So, I felt I had to spoof it. It would have taken place in the cafeteria one lunch hour, and feature people dressed all in black, looking completely Goth, walking around. Occasionally, one will sit down at a table and say something like “I am a child of darkness. I know no joy. I pass my pain and misery on to others.” Then, we find that their pain is little things, like they can never get socks to match, their dog ran away, their dog came back, they have this growth on their foot, stuff like that. Then, our hero, Scarecrow comes along and says something to the effect of “Stop, you villainous fiend! You will not suck the life out of this merry group of students!” and then our hero kind of drags off the child of darkness. Eventually, all children of darkness congregate at one table. They start speaking loudly, “We must stop the evil of laughter and merriment! Only then will we reign!” Then, Scarecrow proclaims “Not on my watch!” The Power Rangers theme begins blaring over loudspeakers. Cheesy fight ensues. The children of darkness flee the cafeteria in terror. Scarecrow takes the microphone and addresses the caf: “People of Augustana. There is only one true way to fend off the army of darkness. Listen to my show, Chaos in a Box with Me, Wednesdays at 10 on Augustana Interactive Radio.”

Of course, posters on the walls would have statistics to this effect:
“Did you know…Scarecrow has never seen any action?”
“Did you know…very few of Scarecrow’s listeners have ever seen any action?”
“Did you know…cartoon characters never see any action?”
“Did you know…it is very difficult for Ken to get any action with Barbie?”
“Did you know…in the Ninja Turtle comics, a turtle dated a fox. How did they get any action?”
“Did you know…all these facts have to do with getting action?”

I ultimately didn’t got with this campaign because, quite frankly, I was frightened off by the logistics of setting up something this huge.

Scarecrow’s Movie Night
This would have been one of the simplest to pull off, and yet I didn’t go for it. Once a week, for about a semester, I would reserve the big TV in the coffee house, and I would show a movie for all my potential and loyal listeners. The movie line-up would have consisted of: my favorite music and radio-themed movies, like Good Morning, Vietnam, That Thing You Do! And UHF. Then, there would have been music-themed movies I always wanted to see, like A Hard Day’s Night, starring the Beatles, and This Is Spinal Tap. And, when that is exhausted, will lean back on my favorites: Star Wars, Transformers: The Movie, and Independence Day. I ultimately didn’t go for this because, well, I don’t know. It would have been so easy to do.

And then, of course, if I had the money, I would have just gotten more prizes to give away: Video Update Gift Certificates, Wendy’s Gift Certificates, movie theater Gift Certificates, and all kinds of goodies like that. But now, it’ll never come to be. Who knows? Perhaps some young, enterprising CLCR DJ will read this and do what I could not.

In time, Luke, you will learn that the truths we cling to depend upon a certain point of view.
— Obi-Wan Kenobi

Way back when I was in the eighth grade, we were playing this game in school one day. A select few were chosen to be “murderers.” Then, all the lights would be turned out in the gym, and we’d all wander around. The murderers would kill someone by placing their hand upon a person’s shoulder. The person would then scream, and collapse on the ground. The lights come on, and then, based upon who was standing around “the body,” three people each got a guess as to who the murderer was. When uncovered, the murderer was out for the rest of the game. I was selected as a murderer. As I wandered through the gym, scanning for my first victim, I saw that one of my compatriots beat me to first blood. And I was precariously close to the body. The lights came on, and the guessing began. On the second guess, someone picked me. I blurted out “Yes, I’m a murderer, but I didn’t kill this man.” Exposed, I went to the corner where the “out” people go. My teacher soon came up to me and said “If you have a flaw, Mark, it’s that you’re too honest.” Since that time, I have prided myself on my honesty. And it disturbs me at how easily I can now lie.

An incident happened a few days ago. I was scheduled to work the evening shift, and didn’t have to go to work until 4pm. Around noon, I get a phone call. It’s my supervisor, and a real bitch if I may say so. (A brief moment to explain my situation. When the Boss has a day off, one of three supervisors take charge. As I said, this was the bitchy one.) She said that things had gotten unexpectedly busy today, and could I come into work sooner. I asked “How soon is sooner?” She said “now.” I replied that I could not go charging off to work now, because my mother was in the office and she took my car. Thus, I was without transportation. My supervisor grumbled something, and then hung up. Now what I said was true, to an extent. My mother did indeed have to go to her office that day, and she took my car. Well, it’s actually the family car, and since that’s her name on the registration, she can use it whenever she wants. So, I didn’t have a car.

But I did have a truck. Mom left me the family truck, and said that if I have to go anywhere, I should feel free to use it. Contrary to what I said, I did have transportation. So, was I justified in lying like I did?

As I already stated, I was scheduled to come into work that day at 4. Was it really so wrong to want a few more hours of me time? Besides, I had a similar incident with this supervisor a few days before. As soon as I entered the door to the store, she screamed out “MARK!! Don’t bother hanging up your coat! Get to work NOW!” So, I got to work NOW. The store was really jumping. For 5 minutes. After those 5 minutes, things were dead and I went to hang up my coat. So, since this was the same supervisor who just called, I convinced myself that the store had entered a 15-minute busy patch, and she was just panicking again. I had nothing to worry about, and I went back to lying on the couch, watching TV.

As the afternoon progressed, I continued deluding myself even more. I had in fact told the truth! I really was without a car. How could I get to work without a car? So, what I said was true, from a certain point of view. Yup, no car. Can’t go to work, got no car. But there was that little part of me deep down inside going “But you have the truck. So what if you want to have a life? You want to have money, don’t you? Student loans are coming. You want to pay them off, don’t you? And the only way to do that is to be married to your job. You should have gone to work. You’re letting the bitch down.” It was a little voice, but long-winded. Naturally, I was being thrown into my latest moral quandary.

John Lennon once said that life is what happened while you were making other plans. I don’t want to make other plans! I don’t want to say “Oh, that’s work calling. I’ve got to run off to the office. But I’ll be at your next ball game, Mark jr.” I don’t want to be one of these people married to his job. I want to have a life! I want to be free to experience things! I want to have a little fun before I die! And if that means withholding certain facts from work, then that should be perfectly OK. In our consumer based society, I’m making a stand! This is a political act! This is my way of throwing off the shackles of consumerism! I’m not my bank account! I’m not my fucking khakis! I’m not my job! I’m the slob on the couch watching TV! I’m a hero! I’m a role model! I should lie to my supervisor more often!

But there’s that voice again. “You used to be such on honest fellow, what happened to you? There was a time when you wouldn’t have thought twice about charging down to work. And what about that sense of loyalty you claim to have. You’re letting your co-workers down. Even if they are bitches. Perhaps they will not be so bitchy if you lead by example. Be kind to them. Demonstrate your loyalty by going to work early when they ask you. Even when it is your day off. The right thing to do is to toil in the fields. Like your sister pointed out one time, you’ll have lots of time to have a life. That’s what days off are for. Work is the only thing to do.”

And it kind of continued like that until Mom got home and it was time for me to go to work. I got to work, and it was rather busy. One of the bitchy cashiers was sure to say to me “Oh, so you finally decided to come to work.” God forbid that a cashier has to bag a few groceries. We can’t all be grannies killing time until CPP kicks in. But the problem remained. Turned out things were busy, and they really did need me. So, the moral quandary kicked in once again.

Was I justified in lying? Was it wrong of me to want a few extra hours of free time? What really did happen to that honest fellow I was in junior high? Did he just grow up? Or is it like what the ancient Greek mathematicians stated: “the ideal must be corrupted to fit the real world?” Perhaps honesty isn’t the best policy anymore, replaced with deal making and profiteering. Oh, if things could only be as clear-cut as they were in junior high. Things seemed so straightforward back then. But now, if I have to lie a little to keep a from going to work early, I’ll do it. Cuz hey, we don’t always want to be making other plans.

I just saw this great episode of The X-Files a few weeks ago. Mulder and Scully go off to investigate the strange occurrence of a man losing his mouth. In their investigation, they soon turn up an invisible corpse. Their investigation continues, and they soon find the culprit. The invisible corpse just happened to discover a genie before he died, and he made his three wishes: for his boss to shut up (that’s how he lost his mouth), for a yacht (parked in his backyard) and the ability to turn invisible. Yup, a good old fashioned genie. In this case, it was the genie of the rug. Unroll the rug, you free the genie, and you get your three wishes. Things really got funny at the episode’s climax, when Mulder gets his three wishes. But, as always, this episode sparked my creative side. If I had three wishes, what would I wish for? I’m sure everyone who read Aladdin growing up has wondered this at one time or another. So, what would my three wishes be?

I used to think long and hard about this. See, I’ve always had this aversion to hard work. I just plain don’t like it. But, I need money to get ahead in life. If I’m not working, how will I pay for the extravagant lifestyle I’ve grown accustomed to? So naturally, the wish would be for money. But for how much? A million dollars? A billion dollars? How much is enough to last you for the rest of your life? Lots of intangibles come up when you are budgeting for the rest of your life. Therefore, I’ve devised what I think is a rather clever wish. My first wish would be for a box. A fireproof, indestructible strong box. And every time I open the lid, I would be presented with $20 million in small, unmarked bills. Now, the rest of my life is planned out. I would buy a house, a car, a whole bunch of furniture, and a sweet home theater with the first batch of bills. After I’m set up, my job would be walking down to the bank each day and depositing $20 million in my bank account. Money would no longer be a concern in my life. I’d have so much money that I wouldn’t know what to do with it. I’d travel the world, giving generously to charities. I would become the ultimate philanthropist and all around good guy. Yup. Wish #1: money.

Now that I’ve got lots and lots of money, what should my second wish be? I mean, I can now buy anything I could ever want: gold, jewels, cars, computers, companies, countries, and sexual favours. I would have all the riches of the world. Ahh, but David Xanatos said it best on an episode of Gargoyles: “What good are all the riches in the world if you can’t enjoy them forever?” This leads to my second clever wish. I would wish to live forever. I would wish to live forever in the body of a perfectly fit 30-year old me. I don’t know why 30, it just seems like a nice round number. Now, free of disease and the ravages of age, I can enjoy my immense wealth for all eternity. I can forever be the ultimate philanthropist and all around good guy until the sun burns out! And when that happens, I’ll start doing it on another planet. Yup. Wish #2: immortality.

Well, seeing as to how I’ve seen Disney’s Aladdin, I’d better wish for the genie’s freedom. Wish #3: freedom.

Now, these wishes are all well and good, but the computer scientist in me is starting to kick in. One of the main doctrines of computer programming is to do it in as little lines of code as possible. The shorter your program, the more efficiently it’ll run. How can I take all three of these wishes and concentrate their goals into two wishes? Or, perhaps even, one wish? How to cut this down into as little wishes as possible really confounded me. Then, as I was watching a rerun of Star Trek one night, it dawned on me. I now knew the cleverest wish of them all. I could accomplish all three of these goals in one wish. So, when that day comes, when I free a genie and get my three wishes, I’ll have only one wish to make.

“I wish for all the powers, abilities, wisdom and knowledge of Q. Yes, that Q. Q from Star Trek.”

The genie will then grant my wish, and boom! Omnipotence. Who needs immortality? Taken care off. I’ll live forever now. Hey, I can even go backwards and forwards in time with a thought. And that old consequence of immortality no longer applies. You know, the one where all your friends and family grow old and die while you remain young. We’ve seen Q cavorting in the afterlife, I could go visit them. Hell, I could probably even resurrect them if I wanted to. If I like you enough, I can make you omnipotent too. So wish #2 is taken care of.

And the first wish, for the money, also taken care off. I could just snap my fingers and conjure up any amount I need. Hell, who needs money? If I want a new computer, I could conjure up a Cray. If I want a home theater, I can conjure up Silver City in my basement. If I want a new car, I can conjure up a Dodge Viper. Or a minivan. Or the General Lee. If I want sexual favours, I can conjure up wanton sex slaves. If I want a house, I can conjure up Olympus. What am I talking about cars for? I can teleport! Not even material goods are needed anymore. I’m omnipotent, baby!

Oh, and freeing the genie. I’m omnipotent, so I can do that with a twitch of my nose. Have a good life, genie.

Now I know what you’re thinking. “Hey, I’ve read all those stories about getting three wishes. Most of them usually have some kind of dire consequence. Wishing for omnipotence, that’s going to have a doozy of a consequence.” Why? Have you not been listening? I’m omnipotent now! The first thing I’d do after that first wish is undo any nasty consequence that would have come about. Then, I can enjoy my omnipotence in peace.

I can’t help but think that not only is this wish decidedly clever, but also deliciously evil. I can’t help but do some maniacal laughter while thinking about this. Do you think that absolute power really does corrupt absolutely? Would being given this much power lead me down the wrong path? Would I really wallow in my own greed, filth, and nasty tendencies? Taking a quick and easy route like this, would I really become one with the dark side? Who gives a rat’s ass? I’m omnipotent, baby!

So, bring on the genie! I’m ready for my wish! Oh, you’d probably like to know what Mulder’s three wishes were. Well, for his first wish, he wished for peace on earth. The genie accomplished this by making everyone else on earth vanish. So, for his second wish, Mulder wished that he didn’t make his first wish. For his third and final wish, Mulder started writing out this long, complicated, legal-looking thing to try and eliminate all possibility of dire consequences. Then, Scully walked in, and gave some inspirational words. This led Mulder to follow in Aladdin’s footsteps, and wish for the genie’s freedom. The genie spent the rest of her life sitting in a corner coffee shop, sipping lattes, and watching the world go by. Have a good life, genie.