The Bathroom Sessions

Kevin found this and showed it to me today, and I thought I'd share it with all of you. Ed Robertson of Barenaked Ladies set up a video camera in his bathroom (for the acoustics, of course) and videotaped himself doing acoustic versions of virtually every BNL song he ever sang lead vocals to. There are currently 67 songs available, and on a good half dozen of them, Stephen Page sits next to him - in the bathtub - and sings along. Pure music geek fun. For showing me this, Kevin gets the honor of being added to the sidebar.

Here's the link, and here's the two of them doing "If I Had A Million Dollars," my favorite of the ones I've seen so far.

Garfield Silenced

Someone once turned to me and said "Hey, have you ever seen 'Garfield' with Garfield's thought bubbles erased? It becomes just this dude talking to his cat, it's a hundred times funnier." I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed the phenomenon until Peracchio sent me a few more a coupla days ago, and gave me a jones to poke around online and find some more.

There are a lot of these sort of things online - click here for the Garfield Randomizer - but this is the best of the lot. And while whoever that guy was who opened me up to this new world, he was right, it's a hundred times funnier. Yet it's also a hundred times sadder and a thousand times creepier. Which somehow makes it funnier still. I hunted around all afternoon in my free time, and here are some of my favorites:






When you really think about it, this is how Jon's world really is. All that's being removed is Garfield's mental commentary, which supposedly Jon would never be able to hear. So this is really how sad a man Jon is.

Jon wasn't always like this. When the comic first started, Garfield was more playful with Jon than Jon was with Garfield, Jon went on occasional dates, he had a roommate and friend, Lyman. He wasn't the creepy schmuck he is today.

Of course, he's a lot funnier this way.










And, incredibly, this one is completely unedited:



If you find any good ones, or end up making your own, let me know. I love these.

A good "Recommendations" post is long overdue.

I haven't done one of these in a long time, and I really enjoy doing them because it lets me hit a couple of different fields that interest me and then move along before I get to bored writing about it. I'll play to my strengths to start with and wander out from there:

What To See In Theatres: There's a good three dozen movies playing at the multiplexes right now, and this is a fairly unique month for movies - April's become the launching ground for those movies determined to be too smart or too unusual to cut it as a summer movie, which means that these are about as diverse a crop of movies as you can ever expect to get outside of a John Waters film festival. There've been distinct hightlights already this month: the hard-R B-movie double-feature mayhem of Grindhouse, the brilliantly-cast fluffball silliness of Blades of Glory, the acerbic give-and-take in Fracture, and a few other smaller films that might not have got their due: The Lookout, The TV Set, and The Hoax. April's almost over, which means the summer movie season's about to start: Spiderman 3 comes out on May 4th, so we don't have long to wait (I'll do my Summer Movie Preview in a coupla days - before Spiderman comes out, say - but let's focus on right now). There is one movie you simply can't miss this month.

There are good action comedies, and there are bad action comedies, and this movie makes no distinction; it imitates and caricaturizes them both with the kind of spot-on accuracy that can only come from years of loving study. And here's the crazy thing about the film - even while engaging in joking mimicry and wink-wink reference, Hot Fuzz manages to be one hell of an action comedy, in fact, it surpasses the films it came to pantomime.

The movie is British to a tee - chock full of actors of impossible pedigree: Bill Nighy, Steve Coogan, Martin Freeman, Edward Woodward (The Equalizer), Paul Freeman (Raiders of the Lost Ark), Billie Whitelaw (The Omen), and incredibly, Timothy Dalton (y'know - James Bond). It's full of that tasteful combination of wild slapstick and subtle understatement unique to that side of the Atlantic, yet glossed over with a decidedly American guns-and-headbutts-and-things-that-go-bang lacquer finish. In fact, it's so spot on that sometimes it's hard to remember that this is all just the Brits poking fun. We're so used to our own nonsense sometimes we forget how silly it all actually looks from the outside. After watching this, you won't forget again. And you'll never think about Keanu Reeves the same way.

What To Play In Your Car: I splurged a couple weeks ago and bought about a dozen albums from GoMusic - but hey, that's only twenty bucks! Nice! I'll come back with more news on some of the other albums as I explore them more closely, but the big winner so far has to be Aqualung's Memory Man.

Pop music gets this good so rarely - the sort of instantly accessible piano songs that stick with you like a sugar rush, that make you hit repeat on your CD player all the way to work, that make you pound away at an imaginary piano with your free hand as you go. This album's heavier and has more of that clean, anthemic modern rock edge to it that's become so popular recently, but sometimes Aqualung (née Matt Hales) never loses sight of his hook, and every few tracks he strips it back down to those simple, beautiful melodies he's got running through is head. Hales bridges the gap between Elton John and Chris Martin. Not a bad place to be.

Download "Cinderella" and see if you don't agree.

What You Shouldn't Buy At Your Christian Bookstore: I've been reading John Eldredge's Epic with a small group I belong to, and I can honestly say that it's just not worth it. Don't bother. At first I hated the book, but now that I've finished I can see the point of it. It's Christian Idealism for the uninitiated. If you've gone to church for more than a year, or have a passing understanding of Carl Jung and Joseph Campbell (I'm not just throwing those names out there - I mean, if you know literally anything at all about them), you've got this book down pat.

You might be distracted when you enter a Christian bookstore by the giant yellow display there by the door. What's this tiny Epic book? you ask yourself. Look, it's even got a supplementary study guide that's as long as the book! And there's a giant Bible Study packaged set right here with worksheets and a DVD! This must be an awful useful book - look it's a bestseller! It's easy to get confused. But don't bother.

Eldredge puts every bad Christian writing trick to his use: he name-drops Lewis and Tolkien and wildly over-quotes both, he references everything he says in terms of popular movies, except he seems to have only seem Gladiator, Star Wars, Titanic, and The Last of the Mohicans. He constantly reuses ideas, stories, and quotes from his older, more in-depth books, sometimes lifting paragraphs directly from those books and barely rephrasing them. The whole book reads like a long college English paper about his own books. It's an exercise in literary and spiritual laziness.

I could have read The Sacred Romance once, had a guys-movie marathon, and if you left The Chronicles of Narnia and The Lord of the Rings in a pile on the edge of my desk while I wrote, and I could have churned this book out myself. And I'm not a particular good writer.

Wow, that got vicious. Let's move on.

Quick Netflix Recommendations:

Classics: Ingmar Bergman's 60's classic, Wild Strawberries. It's all in Swedish, if that's a turnoff for you, but it's worth it. And there's, y'know, subtitles. You'll be able to follow it.

Cult Classics:
Heavenly Creatures. Peter Jackson's first major film, almost ten years before Lord of the Rings made him a minor deity, is the true story of how... well, I don't want to ruin it for you. It's what happens when imagination runs too wild. It's creepy as hell in a life-is-normal-on-the-outside sort of way. Plus, it's Kate Winslet's first film role, and it's fun to see that she was fantastic from the get-go. One reviewer suggested that she'd probably never be able to break free of the role, since she was so memorable. Twelve years later, she's gotten five Oscar noms. Good call, sport.

TV: News Radio. Dave Foley, Stephen Root, Phil Silvers, Maura Tierney, Joe Rogan, and Andy Dick. Did we realize at the time what kind of quality cast that was? Well, it stuck around for five years, so I guess we did. Still, it's aged beautifully - it looks as old as it is, but it's as funny as it ever was. Probably. I didn't see it the first time around. Maybe it was funnier then.

Controversial: Fine, I know that's not a real category. Still, I didn't know where else to put The Last Temptation of Christ. For a movie that caused so much trauma in the Christian community twenty years ago, it's surprisingly sedate; a study of the eternal struggle between the flesh and the divine. Some of the dialogue is so insightful that it makes you sit straight up in your chair and announce aloud "I bet that's exactly what that verse actually means." Plus, it's the first time any movie has ever given the overturning of the moneylender's tables scene any real passion. Usually it's one of those "what the hell is he doing?" scenes, where a tightlipped Jesus flips over two or three tables and then runs out like a scared puppy. Here, Willem Dafoe screams, wild-eyed , "God is not an Israelite!" as he's dragged roughshod out the door. It's not accurate, but it's thought-provoking, just as guaranteed. That Peter Gabriel drum machine soundtrack sounds more than a little dated, though.

Links You Should Click On:

I've been poking around Slate.com - I linked over from The Onion, its sister site - and I've found a lot of good pop-culture writing. Those guys earn their money over there, as the kids are saying these days, "they know their shit." Verbose, kids these days. I particularly enjoyed this memoriam to Studio 60 On The Sunset Strip, which was as perfect a critique of the show as anything I've ever read. "Its core audience might well have been people who actively disliked it," the author, Troy Patterson, notes. He's absolutely right.

I got addicted to a web comic called "Real Life," which has been around for a good eight years now, three of which I've read in the past two days. If you're the sort of person who could potentially get addicted to a web comic about nerds who buy replica swords and fantasize about Ultima Online add-ons, click here. Otherwise, move along. You're not gonna find it funny.

I guess that covers it. Thanks for sticking around. I'll see you next time.

Important News

Congratulations are in order: Jonathan, my older brother and frequent commenter on this site, and his lovely wife have announced that they're expecting a child. Given our genetic pattern, odds are good that it'll be a boy, so sometime in mid-November we'll be welcoming another young Wyman lad into the world to carry on the name. Since none of us remaining Wyman males have shown any real promise in doing our part to continue the family name, this boy might be our last hope in that regard. Good luck, kid.

I, personally, arrived rather late, but I'm figuring that if Heidi does her part and sticks to the game plan, this kid should be hanging around by the time I swing home for Thanksgiving. Seriously, Heidi, I can only come home for so long and I don't want you to put this off until December so I won't get to see my nephew 'til Christmas. Set a schedule and stick with it.

I'm sure my brother is hoping I'll snipe at him and post about how even though there's a strong possibility this child will be named after me (the old "set the bar low and you'll feel great after he clears it" strategy), he left the responsibility for informing me about this bit of news in the hands of our youngest brother, who somehow managed to let more than a week go by without ever finding the energy to call my cell phone, until I happened by chance to call home on a night that he was home and he finally remembered to mention it to me in passing. But I shan't bring it up. I won't give him the satisfaction.

Congrats, bro. It's all very exciting.

I would probably have missed Lexington and Concord, given the chance.

Mom, don't read this one. It'll just make you nervous.

Yesterday morning, my alarm went off at 7:30 AM. This was followed by my normal morning routine of springing effortlessly out of bed, skipping over to the alarm, hitting snooze, and collapsing back into an exhausted sleep for nine minutes until the alarm went off again, at which point the pattern repeated. This usually goes on for about an hour.

On this particular day I'd hit snooze one or two times and was already mostly asleep again when a sharp, explosive noise startled me partially awake. Part of my brain - about a quarter, maybe as much as a third, started trying to alert the body to wake up and pay attention to the sound since it sounded an awful lot like gunshots. The majority of my brain, realizing the danger in actually waking up fully any earlier than nine minutes after hitting the snooze, insisted that the body remain asleep until such time as all faculties would clearly be required, such as a trig test or nuclear bomb threat. Unable to gain even a plurality of interested senses, the alert portion of my brain conceded defeat and I drifted away to sleep again.

45 minutes later, I exited the building, hopped in my car, and drove out of the apartment complex, noting curiously on my way out that I was now passing several police cruisers with blue and reds flashing. Didn't I have some sort of dream involving - gunshots?

When I arrived back at my apartment after work today, a sign was taped to my door explaining that a shooting had occurred yesterday between a resident and an "acquaintance" (how exciting! He shot someone he barely knows! This apartment complex is full of people I barely know!), and that in the interest of safety, it would probably be best if I locked myself in my apartment and never came out.

So let's review - my semi-conscious mind heard gunshots from about 200 yards away and decided that the best possible option was neither fight nor flight, but to remain asleep.

I would, in fact, be the worst Minuteman ever.