Fine, You Jackals!

Note: my readers aren't jackals. It just has a nice ring to it.

So, where did I leave off? Oh yes, I was in a virtual relationship with someone. While the cynic in me can barely stop laughing every time I look back on this time in my life, I try and put a positive spin on it. Maybe the other person was looking for someone to talk to, and the virtual aspect allowed her to lose some of her insecurities.

While it never got 'serious' [as serious as these things can get] I did look forward to our chats. I was working through a rough patch in my life, and they provided a little escape. Maybe it was a huge prank on her end, but frankly, it doesn't matter.

If I am guilty of anything, it's these two nuggets of schmaltz. It was during the height of our 'courting' and all I can say is that I was not using all of my critical thinking skills.

Moment 1.

Trying to sound thoughtful and semi-romantic, I wrote that even though we were far apart [I don't believe I ever asked where she was from] at night we could see the same stars in the sky. At the time, I was unaware that I was plagiarizing a track from the An American Tail soundtrack, sung by Linda Ronstadt and James Ingram. To her credit, that particular chat session wasn't posted across the Internet for all to see. Of course, back in the mid-90's the Net had limited experience with massive P2P, unlike today.

Moment 2.

I hate to admit this one, since I've used it several times since, with some success.

When chatting wasn't possible, we would exchange quick emails. I thought a nice touch would be something that was more than a nickname, but less than a pet name. I had a problem thinking of one, until I turned on my CD player.

I'm no music expert, but I think almost everyone has or had a copy of the Best of Simon and Garfunkel. Just about every track on that CD is greatness, and it was during 'Bridge Over Troubled Water' that it hit me.

I started addressing her as SilverGirl. Not wanting to waste our planet's resources, I recycled that bit a few years ago during a chance meeting in an airport. [I believe I've written on this before, but I'm too lazy to look it up.] I have no idea what Simon or Garfunkel meant in using that name, and I don't care.

So there you have it. I'm not sure where this ranks on the embarrassment scale. It has some pretty stiff competition; there's my boxing match with a Roller Derby girl, being wired for sound at a strip club, or throwing oranges at a portly man while reciting free verse.

Courage,
Mike G.

Whoops...

Sorry for the lateness, just wanted to add my own wishes for a happy and safe holiday season. For my part, I've been playing host to my parents this week. Thanks to my mom, I've discovered what my furniture looks like without a nice undercoating of dust.

Anyways, be sure to hug your loved ones and tell them how important they are.

As for the previous post...

It was a spur of the moment premise that nested in my brain and wouldn't leave until I had committed it to paper [or screen]. Now that it's been indexed by Google and made a permanent part of the Internet, I can get some sleep.

Courage,
Mike G.

Did You Know?

Aside from being one of the finest professionsal wrestlers in the last 20 years, 'Canadian Crippler' Chris Benoit has a more artistic side.

While documented evidence is hard to come by, several anonymous sources have revealed a strange connection between the professional wrestler and one of the most famous pop singers of the 80's.

Deborah/Debbie Gibson, known for her bubblegum music and later for her pictorial in Playboy, was in a state of crisis. The time was late 1988, and all eyes were on her. The success of her first album[Out of the Blue] led to high hopes for a repeat performance. With two months left until her second album was due, Debbie was still missing that one big MTV/radio single. Things were looking grim.

Before his impressive runs in WWE, WCW and ECW, Chris Benoit competed abroad in New Japan Pro Wrestling. It was there where he honed his skills as the masked wrestler Wild Pegasus. Like most wrestlers, Chris worked various side jobs to make ends meet. One of these jobs was as a freelance writer. Knowing that few publications would hire a professional wrestler, he submitted his articles under the pseudonym Bernard Hengstrom. His articles were published in various titles such as Omni, Wine Spectator, Psychology Weekly, and Model Airplane News.

Two wildly separate lives were about to collide.

Debbie Gibson's management were getting anxious. They had suggested bringing in a songwiter to assist Debbie, but she flatly refused. She had written all of the tracks on her first album[Out of the Blue], and while she insisted that her recent struggles were only temporary, friends would later recall she was in a state of near panic.

With weeks before the album was due to be pressed, a secret plan was set into motion. Over 15 songwriters were contacted by third parties hired by her label. They even scoured the hundreds of unsolicited songs mailed to the office every day. An elaborate cover story was devised to maintain deniability. Once a likely candidate was found, they would then drop subtle hints, hoping that a key phrase or chorus would spark Debbie out of her creative rut.

Two weeks earlier Benoit had penned his first song, the product of a dare. The legendary Jushin 'Thunder' Liger had challenged Benoit to write a pop song after discovering one of his articles in an issue of Delta Sky. Raising the stakes, Liger added a $50 bonus if he sent it to a record company. Confident that his song would go directly into a trash can, Benoit dropped a manila envelope containing 'Electric' into the mailbox.

At this point, the facts become less clear. Sources familiar with Benoit's song insist that 'Electric' is a near copy of 'Electric Youth' with some minor changes. Debbie and her management have never wavered from the position that she personally wrote all her songs. No evidence of Benoit's song has been found, and Chris himself catergorically denies any involvement. However, new WWE wrestlers are told to leave a copy of Debbie's album in Benoit's locker, as a rite of initiation. The retribution is said to be quite painful.

Courage,
Mike G.

Marvel Movie Madness...

Sony has released some teaser footage of Nicolas Cage in character as Ghost Rider. Churn has previously shown images of his motorcycle, complete with flame effects.

From looking at the footage, I'm fairly impressed so far. I'm guessing one of the problems the film makers are grappling with is what to do about Ghost Rider's eyes. Since he does have a flaming skull, most artists have kept his eye sockets empty. This makes him a very mysterious and ominous figure.

And this is where the worlds of Comics and Movies collide. Just like in the case of Spider-Man having organic web-shooters in the movie, when for almost 40 years they were inventions of his own design, derivations from the source material will be made.

Hollywood is usually very reluctant to hide the eyes of actors. Even in special effects laden projects, they argue that if you can't tell who the actor is under the makeup/latex/CGI, then hiring that 'name' actor is kind of pointless.

While it's hard to tell from those few seconds of film, I would expect there to be some way to tell that Nic Cage is under those digital effects.

Courage,
Mike G.

Setting The Scene...

Sophomore Year.

Had moved to the single dorms, after deciding that a community bathroom was worth having my own space.

Honestly, I've blocked most of the whole experience out of my mind. I do remember some details though.

I wasn't savvy enough to figure out stuff like IRC clients and IM programs, but wired.com had a site that let you chat without installing anything.

I remember not being able to sleep, and thought some inane chatter would help.

I can't even recall her user name, but I do remember that I was impressed that she used proper spelling and punctuation.

And yes, I did grapple with the odds that I was conversing with some other lonely guy, but for the sake of my own sanity, I'm choosing to ignore that possibility.

More later,
Mike G.

Remember When...

Does anyone remember talk.com?

I'm not talking about the VOIP company that pops up when you enter that address, but the java based chat client that was part of the HotWired Network oh so long ago. [like the mid 90s]

Well, it was there where I made the now-classic Internet mistake, Falling For Someone You've Never Seen Face To Face.

I'll write more about it in a later installment.

Courage,
Mike G.

Paying It Forward...

A special Churn note of thanks to the very lovely Samantha Burns and her self-titled site. Through some bizarre set of coincidences, Churn showed up on her blog roll and to her credit, she didn't immediately smash her computer and plunge it in a vat of holy water.

Courage,
Mike G.

Am I Missing Something?

Ok, in the first Back To the Future, Claudia Wells played Marty McFly's girlfriend.

But when parts 2 and 3 rolled around, Ms. Wells was nowhere to be found, and Elizabeth Shue was the girlfriend. I don't think I ever really noticed that before.

Courage,
Mike G.

Awkward...

I read where the founder of the vegan movement died today at the ripe old age of 95. Sadly, I was enjoying a foot-long Subway Italian B.M.T at the time, followed by a beef stock chaser.

Courage,
Mike G.

Unclenching...

For about an hour or two, I was grappling with the possibility that this blog had been swallowed up by the ether.

I suppose it serves me right that I've made no steps toward actually saving this stuff. I realize it might not mean much to anyone else, but I'm selfish that way.

Since I'm no technical wizard, is anyone familar with a way to actually archive this stuff?

Courage,
Mike G.

Who Knew?

Like a lot of people, I will carry with me stereotypes and assumptions without ever checking them out.

Until about five minutes ago, I had always assumed that Wings' song Jetcontained a lyric where the gender of the 'major' was in question.

Sorry Sir Paul, and thanks Google.

Courage,
Mike G.

It's the Commissioner, Old Chum...

Thanks to some public relations drone, I now present my new play-pretty:



Remember folks, the call of Justice, much like the call of nature, is one you can never put on hold.

Courage,
Mike G.

Keeping it Real Real...

My good pal Big Dick Hunter has the unique ability to get along with almost everyone. During his time at The Ticket, he interviewed people from just about every walk of life, and even if he disagreed with their opinions, he was always polite and respectful. The only thing that really irked him was dishonesty.

Enter Michael Irvin.

Richard has never been a fan of the 'Playmaker', but not because of his actions on or off the field. Rather, it was his penchant for bringing up his past bad behavior as a point of pride. According to Richard, it was like Michael never wanted you to forget that if he wanted to, he could nail every woman in the place.

With Michael's arrest earlier this week, I was wondering how Richard would respond. It didn't take long, as he wrote an article for The Dallas Sports Page, where you can download the issue for free. As a special bonus, Richard's also posted a recording of the time Irvin and Deion Sanders hosted a show on The Ticket, and their confrontation.

After you read the article, jump back to his blog for some secret info the Sports Page editors were afraid to publish.

Courage,
Mike G.

In Praise of a Sandwich...

This was to be a post about a wonderful sandwich I enjoyed yesterday.

Instead, I made the mistake of right-clicking 'paste' instead of 'copy'.

Ironically, it was to make sure I wouldn't lose the post.

Courage,
Mike G.

I'll try and reconstruct it later, after I finish pounding my head against the wall.