Terrible Analogies

If you haven’t seen The Wrestler yet, stop reading this blog, pick yourself up a copy, and settle in for a unique experience.  There’s no doubt The Wrestler has reinvigorated Mickey Rourke’s career with his stirring performance of a has-been wrestler who’s unable to leave that portion of his life in the past.  The Wrestler deserves all of the accolades it can muster, but there’s another film that was released in the same year as The Wrestler that didn’t get the same amount of attention yet still delivered an equally powerfully emotional experience that deserves to seen.

In JCVD, Jean-Claude Van Damme plays himself as he tries to come to terms with a movie career on the wane, endures an embroiled custody battle for his daughter, acknowledges a shrinking spotlight, struggles with an identity crisis, and grapples with his past in an effort to make a name for himself once again.  Unfortunately, Jean-Claude winds up in the wrong place at the wrong time.  With the weight of the world seemingly weighing him down, the “Muscles From Brussels” painfully slopes through his scenes, fighting internal demons instead of external forces, and along the way gives the performance of his lifetime.  The set piece of this film occurs as the director physically removes Jean-Claude from the set, raising him above the chaos and breaking the “fourth wall”, where Jean-Claude speaks directly to the audience, delivering what seems to be an impromptu, emotionally charged five minute monologue, leaving the audience guessing how much of it is real, and how much was scripted. 

I swear, after watching this stirring surprise of a film, if Jean-Claude isn’t given the opportunity to make another big budget film, it would be an absolute crime.

If you think Jean-Claude Van Damme can’t act, think again.

I remember, as a child in sixth grade, our teacher asked us to draw the house we were going to live in thirty years from now.  With pencil in hand I began sketching a ten-story house, complete with a helicopter landing pad on the roof, a fully stocked arcade room, secret tunnels, a diving pool on the third floor, a race track in the back yard, a movie theater, a track and field complex separating the kitchen from the dining room, elevators, fireman poles, and a pizza parlor on the balcony.  

Thirty years later, here I am quietly sitting at home, sick on a Sunday, watching a movie while typing up this blog post and thinking, “Man, that house would so totally be structurally unsound.” 

Forgive me for sounding as if I’m brooding, but there’s not much more I can do in my weakened condition other than think about what is and what could have been.  I’m also thinking about how I envisioned my adult life to be as a child, and the reality that it is…and I have to say that I’m not too terribly disappointed.  Sure, I’m not a movie star, a rock god, or a famous athlete.  I don’t have a trademarked catchphrase, my face on a billboard, or an “as seen on T.V.” product to sell you, but I do have a great house, a terrific family, a good job, and an incredible wife.  

As for the ten-story house and all its accruements… well, I certainly didn’t get the helicopter landing pad or the fireman poles (damn!), but I did get the arcade machine, the movie theater, running trails around my house, a Honda S-2000, and a brand new Pizza Nova just one block away.  5 out of 10 ain’t bad.

Then I think about how lucky I’ve been.  Sure, nothing came easy, but I found my way through the proverbial forest, emerging on the other side with just a few scratches and a black eye or two.  And I wonder how many people are happy with their lives?  How many people came to that fork in the road and were lucky enough to continue down the correct path?  I’m not talking about ending up with fame, riches, or glory, but rather being happy with who they are and proud of their accomplishments.

So, as I sit here on the couch with a 101° fever watching Batman & Robin on blu-ray (die, Joel Schumacher, die!), I have to say that I have very few regrets in life thus far, and I have to count myself lucky to be where I am today.  I’m curious how many other people out there in the world feel the same?

Of course I could be over thinking this whole topic.  Life isn’t a straight shot by any means, and when the fit hits the shan, what are you gonna do?  Perhaps it’s a combination of my illness and being hopped up on medication that’s skewing my world view tonight.  Ahhh, who can say…

Alright, after many months of storage I finally have my MAME arcade machine up and running again.  I have a carefully collected library of nearly 600 games courtesy of Usenet, but I just received a new updated shipment of MAME games this afternoon, so I’m anxious to refresh my ROM folder.  Unfortunately my MAME-dedicated computer doesn’t have a DVD reader on it.  In fact, this particular computer hasn’t been on the internet since 2001, is running a first generation unpatched version of WinXP Home, and is incapable of reading my external hard drives.

Yanking the computer from my arcade cabinet and hauling it upstairs to update it, I’m actually surprised to discover that this ancient hunk of metal has an Ethernet port.  I was fully expecting to have to update it using a complicated series of smoke signals, pantomimes, and sea shanties.

My ancient computer is incapable of seeing external hard drives, which is a pity because as everyone knows, I'm a backup fiend...

Yes, you're reading that right. 108 updates required. This computer was rockin' it old school

As so, instead of a quick update, I’m now relegated to hours of work, then I’ll be occupied with copying my MAME DVDs to an external hard drive, then from the HD to my relic of a PC.

My arcade machine looks so sad without a brain to drive it.  No lights, no sound, and no games.  Poor thing.

Don’t worry, little buddy.  I’ll soon have you up and running once again with Robotron, Metal Slug, and Dragon’s Lair before you can say “quarter haven”…

Happy Friday everyone!

I’m a fan of the alt/indie/rock band the Eels.  I was first turned on to them in the 90′s with the release of their amazing album Beautiful Freak.  The Eels have a knack for making some of the most beautifully depressing music in the world.  In fact, one of my 100 favorite songs is “Agony” off of their album Shootenanny!.  With so much introspective sadness it’s a wonder it doesn’t wear off on the listeners.  

Before I continue, I must insist that you listen to “Agony”.  You can stream the song from here (press the next button until you get to track #6).  I’ll wait while you gather your noose, razor blades, and sleeping pills, settle down in the most acute corner of the nearest dark room, and let the blissful misery of this song soak deep into your bones.

Okay, you done?  Great.  Let’s continue…

So anyway, as I was wrapping up a bit of e-mail late one night last month I happened upon a show on KPBS where I swore I heard an Eels song playing in the background.  On the screen was a bearded guy smoking a cigar on a park bench.  He was talking about his father and how important it was to finally get to know him years after his death.  After a few minutes of trying to make sense of this show I flipped the channel, not knowing that what I was watching was Mark Oliver Everett, the lead singer of the Eels, talking about his late father, who just happened to mathematically conceive one of the most bizarre theories of quantum mechanics;  what he proposed was the “Many Worlds” theory, predicting that multiple parallel worlds existed beyond our own.

As I came to understand the importance of what I had missed when I so blithely turned the channel, that this show not only centered on the lead singer of a brilliant band, but also on the almost unbelievable fact that his father was such an iconic figure in science, I silently cursed myself and immediately began to scour the internet to purchase a copy of this NOVA production.

Parallel Worlds, Parallel Lives follows Mark Everett as he travels the country to discover the father that he never knew.  Along the way his father’s theories are explored and explained, life lessons long since hidden away in dark cupboards and discarded boxes are uncovered, revelations are made, and an unfortunately ignored genius is finally given the exposure and appreciation it deserves.

Call me odd, but I enjoy stories like these.  With a running time at just under an hour, it’s easy enough to absorb, and it’s fascinating enough that you’ll want to share it with others.

A typical day for me:

6:50AM: Wake up, get dressed
7:45AM: Arrive at work early.  Update Sharepoint with patch data.  Resolve unpingable server issue
8:30AM: Coding begins again as I continue to undercover how jacked up Windows 2008 is
10:00AM: Attend meeting.
11:20AM: Lunch.  Picked up 28 Weeks Later on Blu-ray at Fry’s (on sale!)
12:20PM: Coding continues on Server Verification program.  Research 2008 default profiling
1:30PM: Coding continues.  Finally have 2008 automatic OS authorization working
2:00PM: Coding continues.  Woot!  Have proof of OS authorization reporting correctly to logs
2:10PM: Resolve why VM host keeps dropping from network
2:35PM: Yay!  Someone took our IP from a VM host.  Ganked it back & dropped their server
2:50PM: Coding continues.  Working on FTP log transmission & error catching subroutines
3:10PM: Repair broken .vbs script.  Charlotte and San Diego now communicating
3:45PM: Emergency request to find missing Novell data, which wasn’t missing.
3:55PM: Coding continues.  Automating 2008 Admin security profiles
4:15PM: Coding continues.  Trying valiantly to hide user account information upon log in
4:30PM: Another emergency.  Cracked into locked server whose password was forgotten
4:45PM: Throw my hands up, tear out my hair, demand my stapler back, walk out early

I’m done thinking for now.  Going home to take a shower and throw on a Babylon 5 DVD (just started season 4).  I’ll leave you with a picture of our cat because, well…just because.

…and before I forget, I want to give a shout out to Nicole from The Madlab Post for her generous review of my blog, and for placing me in amongst the top five badass blogs of 2009 (thus far).  It’s this supportive community of bloggers that makes the whole ritualized blogging process a rewarding one.  Everyone, from the readers, to the contributors, to the writers have my utmost respect.