Friday, April 28, 2006

Show down at Goofball Gulch

Wagsy: Um ... hello, Goofball. How are you?

Goofball: I reckon I'm doing okay. Wait a minute, something is fishy here. Why did all three of you walk up to me at once?

Wagsy: Ooof! I don't know what you're talking about.

Buffy: Like give it up Wagsy, he's clueless not stupid. Like we're here to stage an intervention.

Goofball: An intervention?! What for!? What?! How?! Why?! I don't understand. I stopped hogging the body pillow a couple of weeks ago.

Pudgie: Goofbally, we are somewhat afraid that you have become disconnected from reality.

Goofball: Whatchootalkinabout, Pudgie?

Pudgie: One hypothesis is fear of an upcoming traumatic event is causing denial.

Goofball: Denial? Me? You're kidding. I'm the only cat that seems to understand what is going on here.

Buffy: So like, what do you think is happening?

Goofball: I can't believe that y'all don't see it. Harriet has a really large tumor. So Ozzie finally relented and agreed to let Harriet get a dog. Of course, dogs pose certain dangers for bears, so Ozzie and Harriet have been buying lots of equipment to keep us safe from the polyester shredding monster about to enter our house. See? I know what is up. It's all of you that can handle the truth.

Wagsy: Um ... um ... help me out here guys.

Buffy: Then how do you explain the new bed you've been sleeping in?

Goofball: That bed is great. See the guard rails to keep us safe from dog sneak attacks at night.

Bear bed

Wagsy: Um ... um ...

Buffy: Like I totally can't believe this.

Wagsy: How do you explain the toy hanging in the corner of the bed?

Goofball: Isn't that the sweetest little mobile? Ozzie can be a considerate guy when he wants to be. If the bears are going to be trapped in a bed lest they be rended by a dog, you gotta keep 'em entertained, right?

Mmmmm ... Mobile

Wagsy: Um ... um ... anyone?

Pudgie: I'm returning to my original hypothesis that Goofball is simply ignorant of the facts of life. Goofball, the bed is for a new baby.

Goofball: Nah. Can't be.

Pudgie: I assure you, it most definitely is.

Goofball: Nope. I don't believe it. Your theory just doesn't add up. Why does the baby need guard rails? So the dog won't attack it?

Buffy: There is no dog, you dimwit.

Goofball: So the baby needs guard rails to keep it safe from us? That doesn't make any sense. We would try to stay as far away from the baby as possible. And kids love us. We're soft and cuddly and cute. Guard rails just aren't necessary. Your theory already fails Ockam's Razor.

Pudgie: (sigh) A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing. ... The guard rails are present to keep the baby from falling out of the bed.

Goofball: Babies do that?

All: Yes!

Goofball: Huh. Go figure. So your baby theory explains the new bed and guard rails, but not everything that is going on around here. It doesn't explain the gates at the top of the stairs and the dog theory explains both.

Pudgie: The reasoning behind the gates is the same as the railing on the bed -- to protect the baby from falling.

Goofball: Hey, that is pretty parsimonious. I guess that would explain why Ozzie and Harriet have gummed up all the electrical outlets, too. I was kind of having trouble explaining that one. But what about Harriet's tumor and where is this baby coming from?

Pudgie: The baby is inside Harriet, Goofball.

Goofball: You're joking.

Pudgie: Do I look like I am joking?

Goofball: How did it get in there? Did she swallow it?

Buffy: Like you can try if you want to, but like I'm taking a pass on that one.

Wagsy: Um ... let's just say that the baby started off in there.

Goofball: I don't know. Sounds like you guys are just making this up as you go along. Besides, there isn't enough room for a baby inside Harriet. She's got intestines and kidneys and other organs stuffed in there.

Wagsy: Oooh, there is plenty of room in there for a baby. Look at how big her belly is.

A comparison of the bellies

I'm very jealous of how big it is. It is even bigger than my belly now.

Pudgie: But Goofball makes an apt point. Harriet does have internal organs competing for space with the child. This space constraint is the cause of many of her ailments such as shortness in breath and frequent sensation of urination.

Buffy: Like that was waaay too much information for me. I don't want even want to think about any of this.

Goofball: Huh, your baby theory can explain all of that, too. Not bad. I'm beginning to believe there is a baby coming and not a dog.

Buffy: Finally.

Goofball: Does this mean that Harriet isn't dying?

Pudgie: No. She will be perfectly healthy after the baby is delivered.

Goofball: Delivered? I thought you said she was carrying it inside her. Why would it need to be delivered?

Buffy: It's just an expression. She'll eventually have to get the baby outside of her.

Goofball: Okay, okay. No need to get hostile. I just have one more question.

Wagsy: Um ... what's that?

Goofball: Have they picked out a name yet? I think I would be good at picking out names. How does Aloisius strike you?

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

For every good turn there is an equal and opposite turn

Ozzie: Waaaaaagsyyyyy! Ooooooh, Waaaaaagsy!

Wagsy: Um ... hello! How are you, Ozzie?

Ozzie: Oh, I'm doing okay, but I am a little upset with you. I thought we had a deal.

Wagsy: Oooh! You're upset with me? Um ... why? Is it because I forced you to talk to Harriet?

Ozzie: No, that isn't it. Guess again.

Wagsy: Is it because I called you a "pillowhead" and "cheesecake butt?"

Ozzie: Can't say I was particularly happy about that, but no that isn't why I am upset.

Wagsy: Um ... gee ... um ... I don't know. I don't do a whole lot during the day, so I don't know how I could upset you. Um ... are you jealous of my leisurely lifestyle?

Ozzie: No. I'm upset because you violated our deal.

Wagsy: Um ... what part of the deal are you talking about?

Ozzie: Come on, you like games. Guess.

Wagsy: Um ... I have stuffin' for brains and ... um ... I don't like all this ... um ... passive aggressive mocking. So ... um ... why don't you just spill the beans? Why are you upset?

Ozzie: Glad you asked. You gave me a broken wife.

Wagsy: Um ... I don't know what you mean.

Ozzie: Oooh, don't you?!

Wagsy: Um ... just because I am a teddy bear doesn't mean that I have to sit here and take this.

Ozzie: You're welcome to get up and leave any time you like. Come on, get up and walk on out of here. I'd like to see that.

Wagsy: Um ... I'm actively choosing to sit here and talk to you. So there. And ... um ... besides ... you're talking to me, so ... um ... your implication is a little silly.

Ozzie: Fair enough, but that still doesn't excuse you making Harriet cry.

Wagsy: Oooh! What did I do? Um ... how did I make here cry?

Ozzie: I'm not sure. It sounds like you were sitting in the crib looking especially cute.

Wagsy: Um ... is that a bad thing?

Ozzie: No. Looking cute is a good thing. But she's crying now because of it.

Wagsy: Um ... I'm confused. This isn't my fault.

Ozzie: You're the one who is sympatico with her. You get in there and figure out how to make her stop crying.

Wagsy: Um ... am I supposed to take a moral from this? I ... um ... still think you were wrong yesterday.

Ozzie: No, I was in the wrong. I'll fully admit that. I just wanted to point out that the crying was not a good indication of how wrong I was.

Wagsy: Um ... do I still have to go in there and get all salty?

Ozzie: Sure do, dog. Enjoy. I'll be playing Mah-jong with Florida retirees on-line.

Monday, April 17, 2006

Clearing the Air

Wagsy: Ozzie! Ozzie! Um ... hello! Ozzie! Get over here.

Ozzie: Can it wait, Wagsy? I'm right in the middle of something.

Wagsy: Um ... no. No, it can't wait. Get your cheesecake butt over here. Um ... now.

Ozzie: Okay, okay, what's up?

Wagsy: Um ... I thought we had a deal.

Ozzie: We have a lot of deals. Which one are you talking about? The deal not to use you as a Swiffer?

Wagsy: Um ... no. No, that isn't the one I am thinking of.

Ozzie: Hmmm ... the deal to not call the teddy bears "stuffed animals?"

Wagsy: Um ... no. That is a good one. I'm really glad you stopped calling us that, but that isn't what I was talking about.

Ozzie: Then I don't understand what you're getting at.

Wagsy: (menacing but furry glare) Um ... don't you?

Ozzie: (sheepish pause) Well ... maybe I have some idea.

Wagsy: Um ... I thought we had a deal. And you gave me back a crying person. We said no tears.

Ozzie: Yeah, well, I'm really sorry about that. I screwed up.

Wagsy: Um ... you think so, pillowhead? Harriet isn't supposed to be crying. She's supposed to bask in the glow of pregnancy.

Ozzie: That is just false. You know perfectly well that Harriet has not been enjoying pregnancy from moment one. I should be more supportive of Harriet, but her problems with pregnancy are not my fault.

Wagsy: Okay, okay, you got me there. Oooh, if the baby is this much trouble now when it is contained in the womb, just imagine what he'll do when is unleashed on the world.

Ozzie: I'll do my best to see that he isn't unleashed on the bears.

Wagsy: Um, thanks, Ozzie. You know I didn't think that you'd ever warm up to the bears, but you've done a very good job of ... um ... taking care of us.

Ozzie: Thanks, Wagsy. You know, I started out thinking that you were a worrisome neurosis, but I've come to view you as a charming quirk.

Wagsy: Um ... um ... I don't know what to say. Charming is good. Worrisome neurosis is rude. Um ...

Ozzie: You don't have to say anything, you're family.

Wagsy: Ooooh, that's so nice. But that doesn't get you out of the dog house, buster. You still left me with a crying person.

Ozzie: What do you want me to do about it? I'm going to help her out tomorrow.

Wagsy: You're going to march right into that room and ... um ... you're going to ... um ... what are you going to do to make her stop crying?

Ozzie: You're the one who is sympatico with Harriet, you tell me.

Wagsy: Um ... this one isn't so easy. I don't think she knows what will make her feel better.

Ozzie: Maybe I should just go for a walk and give her space.

Wagsy: Um ... I don't think that is such a good idea, Ozzie. Um ... I think you should go be with her.

Ozzie: What should I do?

Wagsy: Um ... I don't know, but you'll figure it out. And ... um ... while you are at it, could you put Monsters Inc in the DVD player? Since no one is using the TV tonight, I thought I would keep it company.

Friday, April 14, 2006

New frontiers in teddy bear poetry

Hi there. Thought I would take a break from the narrative thread. Don't worry, we'll get back to our regularly scheduled programming. But this morning I read an exciting article on the newest thing in internet poetry. I'm not really into the newest and the sleekest, but this idea struck me as worthy. I'm talking about The Fib!

Yeah, I know it is geeky. Number theory is for pencil heads (though I have to admire the simplicity of some proofs like Euclid's demonstration that there are an infinite number of primes). But want do you want a bear to do? I live in a house with Professor Pudge Bear and Ozzie. There are math history jokes flying around all over the place. If you're not hip to the fact that Riemann pioneered differential geometry, you're like to miss some pun about sums ... or something. I don't know. I've never studied math myself. The first time they were talking about Cauchy sequences, I thought Pudgie and Ozzie were talkin' 'bout a Japanese breakfast cereal. But that doesn't mean I can't appreciate that there is beauty in numbers. For instance, there is only one Goofball -- that is a beautiful fact.

Anywho, the Fib is a six-line poem based on the Fibonacci sequence. 1-1-2-3-5-8. Easy enough, right? Well, I figured I would take the new meter round the block a few times to see what it can do.

Bears
like
cuddling
and napping
with comfy people.
Skinny people are okay, too.


Not bad. Not bad. There might be some promise in this Fib thing. It's pretty flexible. But the sign of a good poetry form is that it helps you explore important truths about the world.

Why
do
teddy
bears make for
good cohabitants?
We neither judge nor eat your fudge.


Now, a statement doesn't get much truer than that, does it? The "judge" "fudge" rhyme is a little clunky and noone really eats fudge nowadays, but chocolate just didn't fit the last line. Hey, I'm a teddy bear so cut me some slack. You get what you pay for.

I
don't
like to
boast without warrant.
I once ate a sixty ounce steak.


The whole poem is a pun, see? I don't eat steak, so it is a fib. Okay, okay, so that is pretty weak. But the name Fib is just too tempting, I couldn't resist.

I wonder what else we could try. Harnassing the dorky power of math to create new poetic meters seems easy enough. I bet we could come up with other new forms of poetry.

The square
grows too quickly
for a good poetry meter.


Ain't that the truth? What about something that grows more slowly.

Even
numbers are not
interesting meters
either. Long live the jazzy fib.


Hmmm. This might be harder than it looks.

Perhaps perfect squares work as acceptable poetic meters.
You begin with sixteen syllables.
End with nine, four,
one.


Hey, that has promise. The opening line of sixteen is a little clunky, but we can make it work. Here is an Motto for Ozzie ...

My days are filled analyzing data and writing articles.
I do not work for fame and fortune.
Knowledge is my
goal.


That's enough poetry for one morning. And that enough math for a whole week. But I just had to give this Fib thing a whirl.

Thursday, April 13, 2006

Missing the point

Goofball: Hey, Buffy! Buffy. Have you heard the news?

Buffy: Yeah, it's been obvious for a while now. I was wondering when you would figure it out.

Goofball: Okay, so I'm a little slow. I knew something was up, but I just figured Harriet was putting on a little weight. Horrible isn't it? What are we going to do?

Buffy: Like I don't know if I would classify it as horrible, but like it is going to totally change our lives.

Goofball: Well, I think it's pretty horrible. I really treasure my relationship with Harriet. I'll miss all the cuddling and story telling and playing trivial pursuit and watching golf, or just hanging out. There will be huge whole in my life. I think it is safe to say that it is true for everyone.

Buffy: Yeah, no doubt. Like we're all a really tight family right now, but we're going to have to learn to adjust, you know? This is just part of life's cycle. The sooner we accept that the sooner we can move on.

Goofball: Hmmm ... I suppose that is true, but I don't have to like it. Cycle or not, I don't think I'll ever get over this.

Buffy: The biggest change is that the house is like going to be a total disaster.

Goofball: Excuse me?

Buffy: Like the place is going to be a total mess. You know it will happen.

Goofball: I suppose Ozzie isn't always the neatest guy in the world and he will be depressed, but the cleanliness of the house seems like a pretty minor issue. Your attitude seems pretty callous.

Buffy: Hold on a minute, buster. I'm being callous? I agree that cleanliness is a minor issue, but look how you're behaving. "Whoa is me, I'll get less cuddling." Get a grip. Like Harriet is happy and we should all celebrate the change.

Goofball: Celebrate?! Look I know that Harriet is a sweet kid and I know she is going to Heaven, but I really can't bring myself to celebrate this "life change" you're talking about. I'm going to be sad when Harriet leaves us.

Buffy: Like she's only going to be gone for a few days. Her vacations have lasted longer. What's your damage?

Goofball: What are you talking about? Has the story of Easter made you stupid? Dead is dead and Harriet won't be coming back. Doesn't that make you sad?

Buffy: What are you talking about? Harriet isn't dying.

Goofball: I'm talking about her inoperable tumor. What are you talking about?

Buffy: Oh my god, I can't believe I just wasted time on you. I don't have time to clean up this mess. Go talk to Pudgie.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

A Cry for Help

Goofball: Hey there, Wagsy!

Wagsy: Um ... hi, Goofball. How are you?

Goofball: Doing okay. Actually, I'm doing better than okay now that Platy explained things to me.

Wagsy: Um ... um ... Platy explained things to you? Oh my. Um ... I wondered where he went. Um ... what exactly did Platy tell you?

Goofball: Platy told me the secret reason everyone everyone is acting so crazy round here.

Wagsy: Um ... what did Platy tell you, Goofball?

Goofball: What?! You haven't noticed all the strangeness? You can't tell me that things haven't been askew, akilter, and a little weird.

Wagsy: Um ... um ... what do you think is weird?

Goofball: Well, for starters Harriet stopped eating chocolate. That right there is enough information to warrant an FBI investigation. Ozzie has started working harder, and I don't like to say it because I like the boy, but that is a little out of the ordinary.

Wagsy Yeah, yeah, I DID notice those changes. Um ... what secret do you think caused those changes?

Goofball: You don't know? I can't believe Platy was more in the know than the two of us. We're pretty much the social hubs, I don't know how information like this passed us by.

Wagsy: Um ... what did Platy tell you, Goofball?

Goofball: Keep your pants on, dog. Why so pushy? What's your hurry? Afraid you'll miss out on your mid-afternoon nap?

Wagsy: Um ... I would like to take a nap now that you mention it. But I also want to know what Platy told you.

Goofball: (whisper) Ozzie and Harriet are going to get a dog.

Wagsy: Um ... um ...

Goofball: Yeah, I couldn't believe it either. But it makes perfect sense. Ozzie is working harder so he can afford allergy shots for the dog. Harriet stopped eating chocolate because chocolate is bad for dogs and she doesn't want to keep it around the house.

Wagsy: Um ... that is an interesting theory.

Goofball: Wait, there is more evidence. You know those gates that they put at the top and bottom of the stairs?

Wagsy: Yeah ...

Goofball: Well, I thought they were to keep Harriet from sleep walking and falling down the stairs, but now I know that they are to keep the dog from getting near the bears. That is why I stopped worrying about the dog. Harriet and Ozzie thought of everything to keep the bears safe.

Wagsy: Um ... um ... so the dog is staying downstairs?

Goofball: Yeah, so no need to have that worried look on your face.

Wagsy: Why do they need two gates then? Um ... wouldn't the one at the bottom be enough?

Goofball: I'm one step ahead of you. The second gate is a fail safe. The dog can't jump up the stairs and over the gate. I tell you, Ozzie and Harriet really thought that one through. I wonder if Pudgie helped them. Yup, we're getting a dog. It accounts for all the strangeness.

Wagsy: Um ... all the changes around here can be explained by a dog?

Goofball: Yup, all of 'em.

Wagsy: Um ... how does a dog explain why Harriet's belly is so big?

Goofball: You noticed that, too? Yeah, it is getting pretty big isn't it. That doesn't have anything to do with getting a dog, that is Harriet just getting fat. You notice how she never does anything anymore. She just comes home from work dead tired and hangs out on the couch? You do that for long enough and you start getting fat.

Wagsy: Um ... don't people get fat all over their body and not just in their belly region?

Goofball: You're mostly fat in your belly region.

Wagsy: Um yeah, but I'm a teddy bear.

Goofball: So? What's your point?

Wagsy: Um ...

Goofball: Are you trying to imply that Harriet has a tumor? Is she getting a dog to keep her company during chemo-therapy?!

Wagsy: Um ... help! HELP! Pudgie! Buffy! Help! Help!

Monday, April 10, 2006

The Rubber Hits the Chicken Crossing the Road

Goofball: Her name was Lola, she was a farmer. Hay and straw were in her hair and her shirt came down to there --

Platy: H-h-h-i-i. Hi, Goofball.

Goofball: Hey there, Platy. How's my favorite platypus doing?

Platy: Okay. Hi.

Goofball: Hi back atcha. You got something you want to say to me, or you just wanna hang out?

Platy: I want to tell you something.

Goofball: Well, take your time. No rush. I'm not going anywhere or doing anything important. We got all the time in the word. When you figure out what you want to say, just come on out and say. Don't be afraid.

Platy: Harriet is going to have puppies.

Goofball: I'm not sure I heard that correctly.

Platy: Harriet is going to have puppies.

Goofball: She's going to have poppies? Ozzie buying her flowers? Is that what you're trying to say?

Platy: No, pup-pies, pUP-pies, puppies.

Goofball: That's horrible news. I can't believe it. I thought Ozzie was allergic to dogs. We're going to have some slobbery, eager, polyester munching hell hound roaming our hallways! This ain't cool at all. How could they just spring it on us without warning? What sort of protections will be in place for the bears? We need to know. First a body pillow and now puppies. Things in this household are going from bad to worse.

Platy: I just thought you should know.

Goofball: Thanks for the heads up little guy. I appreciate you letting me in on the secret.

Friday, April 07, 2006

Discussing a Dilemma

Wagsy: Um ... what do you think we should do? Should we tell him?

Buffy: Oh my god, he totally knows already. Right? I mean who couldn't know. It's like totally obvious.

Wagsy: Um ... um ... I don't think he does know.

Buffy: It's got to be an act right? Like even Jessica Simpson back when she was a charming ditz wasn't so dim.

Pudgie: I think you are forgetting that Goofball is still a very young bear with little worldly experience. I don't think he has ever encountered the concept of pregnancy.

Wagsy: I think Pudgie is right about that. Goofball has seen babies in The Incredibles and Monsters Inc, but um ... I don't think anyone is pregnant in those films.

Buffy: I still can't believe it. I thought it was a totally charming act he just put on. I feel so ... betrayed.

Pudgie: How could you possibly feel betrayed by pure and innocent naivety?

Buffy: Like he seems like a down bear. You know you've seen it. His witty banter is hip, you know? But like if you're not picking up on the fact that Harriet is pregnant, you must be like missing out on a lot of things. Like maybe Goofball is one of those telethon kids.

Wagsy: Um ... I think you're being a little bit hard on Goofball. He says a lot of smart things.

Buffy: Like that might be the case, but this is most aggregious. Check this out, "Hey Platy! Come over here."

Platy: H-h-h-i-i, Buffy. Do you want to play hide and seek?

Buffy: Like maybe later, kid. Like I want to ask you a question, and it is like really important. Have you noticed anything different about Harriet?

Platy: She's becoming round like me. But she isn't brown or upside down like me.

Buffy: Do you know why Harriet is getting round?

Platy: Harriet is going to have puppies.

Buffy: See, like this totally proves my point. Even Platy knows Harriet is pregnant.

Wagsy: Um ... um ...

Pudgie: The aardvark provides a powerful demonstration of her point.

Wagsy: Um ... I think we're in more trouble than I thought.

Buffy: You think?! What was your first hint? How about the fact that Harriet looks like she is smuggling watermelons, the bed is overrun by a body pillow, the guest room has baby stuff in it, and Goofball still couldn't get a clue if someone told him Ms. Scarlet in the Lounge with the knife?!

Wagsy: Um ... so ... um ... who is going to tell him? You want to do it, Buffy?

Buffy: As if! Did you like pick me because I am a woman and supposed to be all nurturing and stuff? This aardvark is 100% attitude. I'm totally the wrong person to tell Goofball that he is being a doofus.

Pudgie: Once again, Buffy illustrates her point forcefully. While I would not relish the job, I will volunteer for the task. The mysteries of life and biology are an important and fascinating lesson for a young bear. The isomorphisms between fetal chordates is really quite remarkable. In fact, it is difficult to distinguish between many species until --

Wagsy: Um, thanks for volunteering Pudgie, but maybe we can find someone a little more ... um ... a little less ... um ... a ... um ... help me out here, Buffy.

Buffy: Eggheaded?

Wagsy: Um ... I was looking for a nicer word.

Pudgie: This household never ceases to amaze. If anyone needs me, I will be reading Hume in the study.

Wagsy: Um ... have you seen Platy?

Buffy: Maybe he's playing hide and seek. Like I sometimes wonder if he's playing the game solitaire.

Monday, April 03, 2006

Go Teddy Bruins!

Hi there. Sitting here watching the game with Ozzie. Good start to the evening. Plenty o' couch sittin' and chillin' with my person to go around. Naturally, I am rooting for UCLA. Had 'em going all the way. I sure did. I think I won our house pool. We don't know much about basketball, so we didn't bother picking all the games -- just the championship game. So here were our picks:

Gladstone: California

Wagsy: UConn and Gonzaga (I don't know why he got to pick two teams. Why not three or four teams, while you are at it. Did he forget about Southern Illinois and Washington and Georgetown?)

Squawky: Marquette and Boston College

Lobby: LSU and Memphis (apparently, he feels some affinity for tigers ... I don't ask too many questions, or make any judgement. Goofball reports, you decide.)


UCLA at least got to the final round, so I win right? There isn't much riding on the game. Everyone chipped in ten minutes with the body pillow during the day. I reckon that I will get an hour or so surrounded in plushy comfort. I could use the down time. It is a stressful and bizarre time around here. I can't quite my finger on it. I'll let you know when I figure it out.

------UPDATE--------
That didn't go very well, did it now? Still, luxuriating in polyster filling will do a lot to ease my disappointment.

Sunday, April 02, 2006

Kidnapping Gumby

Um ... hello! Um ... weird ... um ... weird things are happening around the house. Um ... I don't really know how to describe it. That's the problem with havin' stuffin' for brains. Um ... um ... I don't know how to summarize the events. Um ... maybe this picture will help.

Gumby Kidnapped

We kidnapped Gumby! Yeah, yeah. I'm not quite sure how it happened, but Gumby was hogtied, placed in a big plastic bag, and now sitting on the floor. Um ... it is novel. We've never had an 80s icon hogtied in our house before. Um ... we're not really sure what to do with him now. How does one dispose of a claymation star?

Napoleon Dynamute

So like one problem with living in nowheresville is that you don't get to see all the good movies. I mean we get most of the movies with hot stars -- and that is like the most important thing -- but we usually miss seeing hot indy flicks with buzz. How am I supposed to ride the zeitgeist if the zeit has come and gone?

Luckily, Netflix rides to the rescue and let's me make up for lost time. Oh my god, I have caught up on soooo many movies that came and went before I even knew to see them. And since The Bend is now a distribution center, we get our movies way fast. It has improved my quality of life more than polar fleece and like it gets wicked cold here.

This week I watched Napoleon Dynamite. I chose it because I saw some kids walking around with "Vote for Pedro" shirts and I figured it might still be relevant. I mean, some kids are saying that the movie captures the high school dynamic and stuff. After sitting through that movie, I'm wondering what type of messed up high school these kids go to. All of the male characters act like retarded eight year olds with delusions of grandeur and autism. Please. Not only is it totally ridiculous, but I have no idea why the writers think I might want to watch these guys. And the idea that an unknown loser could defeat the popular cheerleader in an election because one of his friends danced on stage is like nothing more than wishful thinking.

But my biggest complaint is that the movie takes forever. The first line of dialogue is a little boy asking Napoleon, "What are you going to do today, Napoleon?" and Napoleon totally snaps back, "Whatever I feel like I wanna do, gosh!" which like might be okay, but Napoleon doesn't think of anything to do the entire movie. I mean nothing ever happens, the dialogue is more boring than termites, and none of the characters have any redeeming characteristics. Napoleon and his brother continually lie about knowing lame martial arts and are totally rude to everyone. It isn't entertaining listening to 13 year olds claim to be cage fighting ninjas, why did the writers think it would be any better watching a 32 year old make the same stupid claims?

So, like the only halfway good thing I can say about the film is that there are some absurd images. Feeding disgruntled llamas looks hard and moving chickens is totally disgusting. Oh my god. Watching the chicken farm scenes made my fur tingle. But really, they are just trying too hard. It is like a film student saw some posters from David Lynch films and didn't realize there was story, characters, and dialogue surrounding the images. Pathetic. Like the climax of the movie has Napoleon dancing on a black stage alone. The scene is sorta surreal, but mostly is trying too hard and not worthy of a climax. Hello! The midget dancing in a red room was only a scene in Twin Peaks and not like the point.

So like once again, I have no clue what high school students want. I didn't understand Garden State and I'm totally at a loss with Napoleon Dynamite. At least Zach Braff is okay looking. Listening to mean losers talk about bo sticks, wolverine hunting, and ligers is not my idea of a good time.