I swallowed a bug

At this point in time, I am an enormous fan of Joss Whedon's Firefly.  After much thought, I've concluded that it is, in some ways, as good as if not better than my favorite television show of all time, LOST.  Now, Firefly is a different breed of beast than LOST, for a variety of reasons, but what makes this 2002 sci-fi western so relentlessly entertaining isn't its special effects, its gunfights, or even Morena Baccarin.  What lifts Firefly above standard television fare is its heart, and the loving attention given to the development of its host of characters.

I love LOST for these same reasons.  But Firefly has a certain cheeky humor to it, a self-awareness that carries the narrative along while maintaining a predominant seriousness, and for a show with a scope as vast as this one, such a trait is necessary.  Set 500 years in the future, Firefly chronicles the misadventures of a motley crew of space farers as they traverse the galaxy in search of jobs--honest and not so honest--aboard their reliable ship, Serenity, while evading the grasp of the Alliance, the powerful parliamentary government that is hot on their tail.  I would love to delve into descriptions of the individual characters and the motive behind the Alliance's pursuit, but I feel that the less you know about the show going into it, the better.  I had no idea what to expect when I started watching it on Netflix a few months back, save for a glowing recommendation by my 8th grade math teacher (thank you endlessly, Mr. McClain), and I was simply blown away.

Firefly was cancelled by Fox in 2002 after airing 11 of 14 total episodes, but has since attained a cult-hit status beyond that of any other show I can think of.  Just recently at the San Diego ComicCon, Joss Whedon and the cast held a 10 year reunion panel that was absolutely packed with enthusiastic fans.  It was an emotional 55 minutes, as Joss and the other writers answered fan questions while the cast reminisced on their experiences filming the show, and their appreciation for the fans that were "keeping the story alive."  I'll admit I even teared up a bit.

Right now, you can find Firefly on Netflix or you can get it on DVD.  I'm leaving for college in a few weeks and I think I'm going to buy the DVD set so as to have a hard copy in the event that Netflix fails me.  But to anyone who wishes to enjoy a truly monumental television series that doesn't in the slightest insult the viewer's intelligence, I highly, highly recommend Firefly.  There really isn't much more I can say.  It is film entertainment at its finest.

Once you've finished the series, however, be sure to watch Serenity, Joss Whedon's film conclusion to the series that is so wonderful it deserves its own entry entirely.  See, the fans loved Firefly so much that Joss was able to accrue enough money from Universal to make a movie, pulling together some loose ends and ultimately bring an end to a series that was unfairly swept away from us much too early.  

I'm Still Flying.  It's time for you to start.

Interesting....

I'm having trouble understanding what this is. It has garnered the support (and cool narration) of LOST alum Terry O'Quinn, who preaches a good deal about some revolution of the human spirit/race via the fully realized potential of our five basic senses. And that strange fly-like thing encased in ice? What is it? Why is it important? Terry needs to dish some answers!

And then there's this comprehensive "test" you take that supposedly determines the state of your senses a la a video recording that evokes images of those bizarre tests CRS gave Michael Douglas' character in The Game. Maybe this whole thing is something like The Game, like a super-elaborate test of the human mind and emotions. I haven't the slightest clue, really, but I was turned on to this whole thing while browsing a LOST fansite and saw something called "Mission Icefly" with Terry's face attached to it. If anyone has any novel info on this I would like to know, because whatever it is, the super-secret viral video campaign they have deployed is very effective in evoking a sense of mystery and intrigue. Funny, that's how J.J. Abrams likes to promote things.....

Light Reading

I'm about 150 pages into Thomas L. Friedman's nonfiction book Hot, Flat and Crowded, and I'm genuinely frightened. The book's main objective is to explain the importance of a green revolution in American economics and energy consumption, and how immediate action needs to be taken before we reach Earth's ecological tipping point, in terms of climate change. But here's the thing. Immediate action ISN'T being taken. There's a LOT of convincing evidence compiled from various fields of environmental studies to support that conditions on our planet are getting worse much faster than we have previously predicted, and little to no effort has been put in to combat it. This is largely due to the unfortunately large amount of people who completely disregard the idea of global warming and climate change, hindering progress in any area of environmental conservation, renewable energy development, and "green" political activism.

Friedman, in his book, breaks the nay-sayers down into "three basic varieties: those paid by fossil fuel companies to deny that global warming is a serious human-caused problem; those scientists, a small minority, who have looked at the data and concluded for different reasons that the rapid and extensive increase in greenhouse gas emissions since the Industrial Revolution is not a major threat to the planet's livability; and, finally, those conservatives who simply refuse to accept the reality of climate change because they hate the solution--more government regulation and intervention."

Friedman will explain in detail his ideas for a green America in the second half of his book, but at this point in my reading, I'm thinking that with such a vehemently polarized national government, it appears action upon climate change and a green revolution are almost impossible to reach right now. Not completely impossible, but almost. As I see it, it all comes down to lack of foresight. Us Americans, along with a good number of other nations, are much too preoccupied with the "instant fix." We plan for the short term, and we do that repeatedly. There is almost no long-term investment in our weaning ourselves off of foreign oil, and a dispiriting amount of effort is put into large-scale, affordable green technology. We are much too divided, and it's sad, because our children will look back on this as the time we could have saved the world, but instead, we badger each other over no singular, coherent reasoning (i.e. fundamental differences between Republican and Democrat rationale) but rather disagreement borne purely of dislike, distrust, and frustration.

So here's a message from a concerned teenager to the American government: Let's kick this oil addiction once and for all. Stop sending our money to an area of the world where it is used to fund terrorist groups we're fighting right now (yeah, that's happening), and start investing in ideas that will save this planet. Here's an idea: cut the military budget, and give money to schools to give us our next great thinkers and problem-solvers. Curtail the production of SUV's and Hummers, in place of smaller, more fuel efficient--and eventually, fuel-free--vehicles. Put windmills everywhere, work on creating more efficient solar panels. Any action that drastically reduces our dependency on oil will, in effect, benefit the entire globe. Oil's price will go down, and as Friedman brilliantly explains in his book, lower oil prices (between $15 -$30 a barrel) mean the collapse of the petrodictatorships of the middle east, replaced by a much-needed economic freedom and the return of womens' rights in the area, as the area will need to depend upon the creativity and economic know-how of its people to survive.

I'm going to continue reading, and when I finish I'll post my thoughts on the second half. But for now, whoever is reading this, I highly recommend you go out and get Friedman's Hot, Flat and Crowded. It's probably one of the most important books you'll ever read.

"Nobody does it alone, Jack."

Monday, May 23rd marked the one year anniversary of the series finale of LOST. I am both delighted and saddened to say that I have not at all moved on. I rewatched the finale that Monday evening, and it alllllll came back. I remembered watching the first episode in the fall of my 5th grade year at Eastwood Elementary and thinking, wow, I'm going to have to convince my mom to let me stay up for this! Thankfully, she obliged, after I coaxed her into watching the Season 1 episode, "Walkabout." For anyone who has seen that particular episode, you won't be surprised to know that she was instantly hooked.

What struck me as so amazing about LOST was that it was so, so many things at once. It was science fiction, with a giant unseen monster, polar bears living in tropical forests, electromagnetic time-travel-inducing frozen donkey wheels; it was a comedy, supported by hilarious dialogue and a top-notch cast; but more than anything, LOST was a drama--a character study of individuals who were, both figuratively and literally "lost." They were flawed and broken, going at it alone. In a sense, before their time on the island, it was themselves vs. the world. It was their being on the island that changed them. They could start over, and fulfill their destinies. Before I delve deeper into the meaning of the show, I want to express my disappointment in the "fans" who hated the finale for its lack of "answers." All I will say is that from the very beginning, LOST has been a character-driven show with cool mysteries, not the other way around. It ending the only way it could have possibly ended, and if your main concern, spanning the entire six seasons was "What the hell was up with Walt?" then you are no true fan of LOST.

But enough ranting. The finale was, in my opinion, the perfect send-off. It encapsulated everything the show was about, everything it stood for, in 2 and a half glorious hours. In fact, I believe that a major message that LOST communicated to its audience is pretty well-stated in the title of this post. By this, I mean that LOST wasn't just a show about people, it was a show about how broken people fix one another. In the pivotal church scene near the end of the finale, when Jack speaks with his father, Christian tells him that the most important part of his life was the time he spent with the other survivors on the island. Without them, he couldn't do what he was chosen to do. They needed him, and he needed them.

I was reading an in-depth analysis of the finale over at Entertainment Weekly recently, and I realized that, along with being about people, LOST was about death, and the undeniable notion that we all one day will die---that death is absolute. The flash-sideways/purgatory/in-between world was not a segue into eternal happiness and bliss, as many would assume after the crowd in the church was washed in a bright white light, but rather the last step before The End. The Sideways world was a chance for the survivors to come to terms with their mortality. Borne of this acceptance is the letting go of hatred and selfishness, and the understanding of love.

If that did not make any sense, I apologize for I don't know how else to explain it; Doc Jenson is better at it here. But that's what I pulled from LOST, and I know that not all will agree with me.....which is where the true beauty of LOST lies. It is a show that will be talked about for years to come, with countless theories created and thrown out the window. It amazes me that I am even talking about a television show in this way. LOST truly was a miracle of modern entertainment, and it will not be forgotten.

Before I end this post, I cannot go without mentioning the magnificent score of Michael Giacchino. The most poignant moments of the finale (and the show in general, for that matter) are bolstered by his music. It's a shame that Giacchino lost the Creative Arts Emmy of Best Original Score to 24---he really deserved it here, particularly for the tracks "Moving On," "Closure," and "Locke vs. Jack"

Big Winner!

My trivia team just won $500 for our Student Blazer Pennant Publishing class! We were part of a trivia night in support of 3 students who will be traveling to Spain and France to student Spanish and French (who would've thought?). Our team consisted of a few teachers and some fellow Pennant staffers, and we beat every other team for a grand prize of 500 bucks. We aren't sure exactly what the 500 will be going towards, but hopefully MINI FRIDGE!. Just kidding

A Muggle's Journey

I can't imagine what it must be like to be J.K. Rowling. Has no greater writer come from such humble beginnings? She stated in an interview that the idea for Harry Potter simply "dropped into her head" one day while on the train, and it quickly snowballed into something pretty big. But I don't expect she believed it would ever get THIS big:

The above picture is a snapshot of Hogsmeade, the fictional wizarding village from the Harry Potter universe. It serves as the hub of the pretty much brand-new Wizarding World of Harry Potter in Universal Orlando's Islands of Adventure theme park(s). Talk about extravagant. I can write about this place all day, but nothing compares to the experience of strolling down the brimstone walkway, gazing up at the wonderfully lopsided architecture, smelling Butterbeer in the air, and immersing yourself in Harry's world. It's truly entrancing.

The park sits in the back corner of The Islands of Adventure, sandwiched between Jurassic Park and The Lost Continent, and it is easily the most popular attraction at Universal. The words to describe it escape me. The attention to detail, as seen above, is astounding. When you enter the village, it's like walking directly into Rowling's imagination. To the immediate right

is the magnificent Hogwarts Express, presented by a "conductor" who interacts with the crowd at certain times of the day. Continuing in, the Three Broomsticks

stands lopsided and weathered on the left, and next door, Honeydukes sweets shop sells Bertie Bot's Every-Flavor Beans and Chocolate Frogs to hordes of young Potter fans. Zonko's joke shop is filled to the brim with goofy artifacts and knick-knacks. Dervish and Banges, basical

ly a glorified souvenir shop, contains an assortment of artifacts from the series, like brooms, time-turners, pens, parchment, cloaks, robes, and wands.

The absolute most entertaining and enthralling division of the village BY FAR, is Ollivander's Wand Shop. Much unlike the other shops available for guests to enter, Ollivander's is a show. Wrapped around one side of the building are line ropes which, on the days I visited, were always completely filled with excited Muggles. The times I had waited to get inside, the line had thinned out a little. Our 20 minute wait was worth every second.

When you enter Ollivander's, it suddenly becomes very quiet. A desolate, somewhat eerie sound resonates through out the room. Everything looks EXACTLY like the Ollivander's from the movie. The walls are massive shelves, stacked to the ceiling with wands; thousands of them, all made up to look very dusty and old. Then, "Ollivander" descends from a dimly lit staircase. He introduces himself to the large congregation of Muggles before him, and carefully selects one person from the audience to receive their special wand.

I, admittedly, had hoped I would be picked; but alas, no such luck. My first visit, he chose an older woman, and the second he picked a young girl. Both are extremely, extremely lucky. "Ollivander" offers his chosen person 3 wands, in the same fashion as in the movie. The first two, at his command of pointing and reciting a certain incantation, make flowers "wilt" in the corner,and cause wands to shuffle on the shelves (with the addition of lights and sound effects that enhance the experience). These wands are not meant for the chosen Muggle. The third wand, however, is the one. Music begins as "Ollivander," says to himself, "Curious, very curious," and he hands the wand over. At their touch, a wind whips up inside the room, the music swells, and a soft, glowing light engulfs the wildly grinning participant. Then, with some closing remarks and "tips" on how to properly operate a wand, "Ollivander" leads the group into a section of Dervish and Banges where a large selection of both character AND original wands await to be purchased. I purchased an original, although I came quite close to buying the Elder Wand, but I wanted one completely original to the Park. I chose a handsome looking wand with a phoenix feather core. Easily the coolest $30 I ever spent. (I unfortunately did not get any pictures of the inside of Ollivander's for fear of disrupting the show with my flash. It was pretty dark, and my videos came out poorly, also.)

Now, the castle. Gaze upon it's glory. GAZE UPON IT!

I took that picture on my phone on the way inside. Around the bend is a stone wall that guides visitors into a maze of line separators that lead into the castle. The longest wait we encountered for the castle (and the spectacular ride that lies within it, which I'll get to in a moment) was about an hour--which was perfectly fine, as there was ALWAYS something interesting to look at. We moved quickly through the line outside, while listening to John William's fantastic score, and soon found ourselves inside Hogwarts. We were first presented with the entrance to Dumbledore's office, a great, towering stone falcon sitting atop a hidden staircase. Continuing in, we were then treated to a high-ceilinged room covered corner to corner with Witch and Wizard portraits--some of which were moving around in their frames and speaking to one another. Through this room, the crowd was greeted by none other than Dumbledore himself. The actor Michael Gambon, as Dumbledore, was projected as a sort of hologram behind his desk in an ornate office. The technical wizardry (pun intended) behind this is astounding. He looked and sounded as if he were right there, talking to us. Our line was moving quickly, so as we hurried along, mouths agape as we walked, we were taken by surprise at Harry, Ron, and Hermione (also ridiculously realistic holograms), who had appeared from beneath the Invisibility Cloak atop a balcony to give us an explanation of their intention for us---they wish to save us from a boring History of Magic lesson by flying us around on enchanted benches, under a charm conjured by Hermione .

Now, we arrive at the ride. A park operator asks politely "how many?" and we had four in our group. We received our own bench---which, needless to say, was obviously not a true bench. The "benches" were shaped like benches, but had a large back rest, lapbars and handlebars for support, and they meandered along a moving walkway. We sat down, completely giddy with excitement, and buckled in. We were moving towards a dark hole in the wall. Looking up, I gasped. Hundred s upon hundreds of "floating" candles reflected off of a shiny ceiling, bobbing in the dimly lit room. It truly was beautiful. I only had moments to appreciate it, however, as suddenly Hermione's voice leapt from speakers behind my head. She told us to say "UP" on the count of three. We obliged.

What followed was an experience that is difficult to explain. With a combination of simulated movement, practical special effects and a series of large, Omnimax-esque screens, we flew around Hogwarts. We escaped the clutches of a Hungarian Horntail dragon, evaded the soul-sucking kiss of dreaded dementors, and raced alongside Harry in a game of Quidditch. We zipped though the Forbidden Forest to meet Aragog, the giant spider, and soared over the lake and the tips of the castle, before landing safely in the Great Hall, where Dumbledore, Harry and the rest of the Hogwarts gang wished us good day. Every second of it was convincing. Seriously, there wasn't a moment where I was disappointed--except for the very end, of course.

I rode that ride (called The Forbidden Journey) three times during my stay at the park. When I wasn't in line for it, I was in line for Butterbeer

and oh boy was it something. In the books, Butterbeer is hot and warms the soul. But at Universal, where temperatures regularly reach the high 8o's, a hot beverage is impractical. Instead, Butterbeer is offered as cold, like a soda, or frozen, like a slurpee. Both taste magnificent. Imagine butterscotch, mixed with a twang of rootbeer, and you've got the general taste. It's very smooth, and it is topped with a mysterious, goopy foam that is a unique taste in its own. One cup is a whopping 1,350 calories, and worth every sip.

The park also harbors two rollercoasters: a kiddie one called the Flight of the Hippogriff, and a much more intense, floorless thrill ride called The Dragon challenge, which is designed as a competition in the Triwizard Tournament. On the route up to the coaster sits Ron Weasley's bewitched car, as seen below:

Having read the books fervently as a kid, I was worried that the creation of a theme park may taint the vision J.K. Rowling had for her stories. I was sorely mistaken. The thinktank at Universal really knew what they were doing here, which really makes me happy. They could have easily half-assed the whole thing, raking in cash from die-hard fans, but they didn't. They brought Rowling's world to life, respectful of the content and characters.

If you haven't read the books, please, by all means do. There's a reason they're so popular. They're a saga unlike any other; adventures borne of an endlessly creative imagination. With running themes of death and longing alongside friendship and the importance of courage, Harry Potter speaks to a generation to which the latter are very important. So again, go to the library and grab Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. You won't be disappointed.

Hello there!

It's been quite some time since my last post. Here's an update of my busy Junior year:

-Swim season=success. Best times in all of my events.

-I visited Universal Resort Orlando over Spring Break with some friends and family. We lodged at the on-site Hard Rock Hotel, and with our room keys as automatic fast-passes for nearly every attraction within the park, we enjoyed four days of pure bliss. The Wizarding World of Harry Potter is by far one of the coolest things I've ever seen. It requires its own post which I will get to soon.

-Upon arriving home from Spring Break, I have taken up re-reading every Potter book. I have thus far read through the first two, and I plan to start the 3rd sometime tonight.

-I've added quite a few new book titles to the library that is my bedroom shelving unit over the past few months. I've read many and hope to post thoughts on them over the next couple of weeks

After a prolonged winter hiatus, I'm back with all barrels blazing. I hope to continue posting through out the summer!

LOST: The Final Season

ON DVD. THERE IS NOTHING BETTER

Too Much of the Same

I have never left the country. I've been to Florida, Texas, Colorado, and a handful of other states, which are all fun and lovely and whatnot, and I realize that there are amazing places worth visiting right here in the U.S, but I feel the need to branch out. There are many kids at my school who are substantially well-traveled individuals. I listen as they list the foreign lands on which they've stood, the foods they ate and the things they saw. I feel so constrained here. I understand that I have no room to complain; I am very fortunate to be a United States citizen, and I'm grateful for all the opportunities I have been given. However, I live by the saying, "I am a student of the world," that life is a chance to learn as much as possible and to experience as much as possible. New and different are what I strive for. I try not to clutter my mind with unimportant distractions. Seeing as we only live once, why waste such precious time with unnecessary aberrations?

The cup analogy is often used to describe the brain, and while cliche, it makes a valid point. A cup represents any one person's mind, the summation of their thoughts, ideas, and beliefs. Through out your life, you slowly fill this cup. Some people tend to fill it earlier than others, at a quicker pace, and they are the ones I aim to be the exact opposite of. I want to keep an open mind, because I realize how little of the world I truly understand. By making up their minds so early, with an "I know enough already" attitude, many shield themselves from the wonders patiently waiting for them to discover (this is why I have no place for organized religion in my life, but that's a whole other post.) You can't fill a cup that's already full, and once it's filled, it's damn difficult to empty.

By admitting to myself that what I know is only a fraction of the big picture, that there is a world outside of this hum-drum town, I have learned the true meaning of humility. It's very humbling, and by accepting it I feel I have set myself up to be an A+ "student." In the word's of the late Carl Sagan, "Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known." Nobody knows what that something is, but finding out is the journey, and I'm all set to go.

Good Idea

I've started a new, experimental project called "Doing homework right after school." It's very interesting. I come home, walk into the kitchen, grab a snack, head up to my room, and do homework until it's finished. Never in a million years would i have thought that such a feat was possible, but nearly a week of homework-less evenings prove quite the opposite. I'll continue this experiment for as long as I can, hopefully to the point where it becomes an incessant habit. Wish me luck!

HEY!

School starts tomorrow. I'm looking forward to AP English and Newspaper, and that's about it.

Beaver Island

My parents say getting to Beaver Island is half the fun. This is a lie. The island sits in the middle of Lake Michigan 30 miles south of the UP, and we live in Elkhart, a good 5 hours away. Driving there, which we do 99% of the time, is a tour through the lonely corridors of boredom. US 131 takes you up the entire state of Michigan, in our case to Charlevoix, and only begins to liven up in the last hour, where we cut through northern Michigan's rolling hills and woodland.

As a kid, I would marvel at the endless sea of pines and conifers, complaining as my ears popped from the changing altitude. This trip was different. Our caravan, consisting of my father, myself, 4 of my friends and one of their dads, traversed 131 in 2 cars, one of which was driven by myself. Never have five hours gone by so slow. Everyone in my car was asleep, and ahead of me lay nothing but a vast stretch of asphalt. I was scared out of my wits by Grand Rapids, (which turned out to be not so bad), and in regular intervals my left and right leg fell asleep. But in the midst of all this, I had to keep cool. I knew what awaited me was definitely worth the trip.

Upon arriving at Charlevoix, our group refueled at a Subway and advanced to the Island Airways airport. We prefer to fly to the island instead of taking the ferry, mostly for the experience and the great views, but also because the ferry, while scenic and lovely and whatnot, runs a little over two hours---flying takes 15. The planes we fly in are small, double-propeller "hoppers," as I like to call them. On the flight over, one can see the entire island, point to point. It truly is a breathtaking view, and I'm always excited to watch newcomers see it for the first time.


Setting foot on the dusty runway, my heart soared. After hours of travel, we had finally made it in one piece. An enticing concoction of smells infiltrates my nose and brings me back to my last visit. I forgot how much I loved it up there, all the fun times I shared with family and friends. I was ready to experience it all again.

Our place of residence for the weekend sits on the cusp of a cul-de-sac, a whimsical grey-blue log cabin belonging to my grandparents. Every year for as long as I can remember we've stayed there, sometimes for a few days and others for weeks on end. On the east-facing side, we overlook a beautiful sandy bay, stretching for miles. At the end of the cul-de-sac, a small walkway parts a grassy limbo on its way to the an amazing beach. It is here we spend most of our time, enjoying the sun and riding waverunners.

The true beauty of the island can be found in its heavily forested interior. At 6 by 12 miles long, it is relatively small, but you'd be surprised at what it successfully hides. Beaver Island's human history goes back many centuries, and contains a spectacular amount of mystery and adventure. It was first inhabited by Native Americans, who lived peacefully for quite a while, until the Mormons arrived. The Mormons claimed the island as their own, and clashed repeatedly with the natives along with other religious sects. One Mormon, James Strang, proclaimed himself KIng of the Mormons and of all of the island (I'm not making this up). He was then shot in the head by a distraught opposer. He is the only officially documented King to ever declare rule on American soil.

Beaver Island's colorful past is matched only by its geography. It contains 7 inland lakes, one of which is larger than our very own Simonton Lake in Indiana. On the western side, sand dunes tower above the surrounding forest. One dune in particular, named Mount Pisgah, reaches nearly 800 feet above the waterline. To the south, a large national forest preserves most of the island's wildlife and is, in some parts, unexplored. It is in this vast wilderness that most of the island "attractions" can be found, including a massive, curiously isolated rock of unknown origin ingeniously entitled "Big Rock", and North America's largest birch tree (unnamed).

It is a staple of our yearly trip to visit these places, along with various restaurants, shops and boutiques. St. James, located in the north east corner of the island, hugs the shore of Paradise Bay, and is the only town. Paradise Bay is a perfect little harbor, and is the center of the island's commerce. During our trip, we enjoyed fresh, caught-moments-ago Lake Perch, delicious ice cream, and hearty Southwestern omelets, all within a 2 mile radius of each other!

In Beaver Island's isolation lies the secret to its success. Instead of drying up in the downturned economy, it held strong. It's a place where fast food is a myth, where commercial chains are forbidden. It's an island of originality. In place of McDonalds and Walgreens, they have Stoney Acre Grill and The Toy Museum. It helps to remind me that there are places outside this lusterless hole in the ground we call Elkhart that radiate pure joy.


Our departure, after a weekend of unimaginable fun, was a somber one---to put it lightly. The drive home was painstaking, but had to be done. All good things must come to an end I suppose, but the best part about Beaver Island is that, no matter how old you get, how lost you are, how much you have forgotten, it's always there, patiently waiting for you like an old friend. Every routine visit, every signature in the old "guest book," I hold on to dearly, because if there's one thing I've pulled from my experiences on that island, it's that one of the most precious parts of life are the good times you share with the ones you love, the memories you make with them, and the adventures yet to come.

The Yiddish Policeman's Union

I know I promised an enumeration of the events of my trip, but I happened to finish the book I've been reading and I figure it best to write about it before my memory fades. So here goes...

I've never read a book by Michael Chabon until now. I found The Yiddish Policeman's Union, once again, at Barnes and Noble (I really do love it there) while strolling down the fiction isles. What engaged me to pick it up I do not know, but I'm glad I did.
I'll go as far as to say that it may be one of the best books I've read. It's unlike anything I've ever read before, a mystery of rare depth and composure.

Chabon whisks us away to an alternate history, where in 1948 the Holy Land of Israel is evacuated and abandoned by the Jews in wake of political turmoil. The American government, in its abounding kindness, relocates the Jews to Sitka, an island off the coast of Alaska. They are there for nearly 60 years, until the United States decides to initiate "The Reversion," which reinstates Sitka as Alaskan territory, ending its long run as an independent district.

The story, set in present day, follows Detective Meyer Landsman and his partner Berko as they attempt to solve a murder before this Reversion wipes clean their cases. The details I will not discuss. It would spoil the originality of Chabon's intricately detailed universe. I have great respect for a man who can create a wholly alien, backward world and turn it into a compelling backdrop for a detective mystery.

What makes The Yiddish Policeman's Union so special is the way Chabon constructs the world of Sitka, the mind of Detective Landsman, and the conglomeration of the two through long, drawn out descriptions. His extensive use of metaphor and symbolism turn the generally bland into flashy, exuberant prose. The overall premise, I believe, benefits greatly from this unique writing style. Here is a story that hits all the right notes. It never loses itself within the labyrinth of its own gloriously convoluted plot. It's story of love, uncertainty, violence and forgiveness, and I enjoyed every second of it.

To anyone who is interested in checking this book out, I give you a very enthusiastic recommendation. You wont be disappointed.

Back!

I have returned from vacation with a full recap of the trip to come. With pictures!

sionara!

Tomorrow I am leaving with a few of my buddies to Beaver Island, Michigan. This will be my last post for the next 5 days or so, but when I return I'll provide a full recap of the trip. Beaver Island really is one of my favorite places on Earth, and i can't wait to see some of my first-time visitors experience it for themselves. You can find the island's website here, but I encourage anyone reading to discover it for yourself. It's 100% worth the five hour drive!

The picture above is Paradise Bay, a beautiful harbor and the center of the island's community

Book Run

It's amazing the things one can see while at University Park Mall. People of all shapes and sizes walk, waddle and run to and fro. The occasional toddler spills juice all over the floor. Stately young men and woman attempt to sell you the hottest brand of soap from behind a neatly decorated kiosk. It's all amusing to observe, and my trip to Barnes and Noble was filled to the brim with interesting people doing interesting things.

But when I enter Barnes and Noble, it's like stepping out of The Twilight Zone and into paradise. If it weren't so far away, I would work there. The people are nice, it always smells good. and I love books. My visit there today left me $60 lighter, and 4 books heavier: The Link by Colin Tudge, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon, The Varieties of Scientific Experience by Carl Sagan, and Deep Survival by Laurence Gonzales. Im like a little kid in a candy store. An expensive candy store. Maybe I should try the library for a while.....

...Nahh

The Fall of M. Night Shyamalan

Once upon a time, M. Night Shyamalan was one hell of a storyteller. He began his directorial career marvelously with the supernatural thriller The Sixth Sense, followed by a unique kind of comic-book movie, Unbreakable, and the fantastically original sci-fi drama, Signs.
His fourth film, The Village, was the beginning of his rapid decline. It was his worst-reviewed movie at the time of its release in 2004, and moviegoers began labeling him as a "one-trick pony," in response to most of his movies having twist endings. I, for one, enjoyed The Village. It was scary, intense, and delivered A-List performances from the whole cast.

I don't know what to make of Lady in the Water, Shyamalan's fifth film released in 2006. Dubbed "a new kind of bedtime story," it garnered horrible reviews. It was here that I began doubting Shyamalan's talent. Had he lost it all? Or were his first three movies the result of luck? Lady in the Water wasn't that great, but it also wasn't terrible. It was muddled by too large of a cast, too convoluted a story, and a less-than-admirable marketing campaign, but it had some very moving moments, thanks to the always excellent Paul Giamatti.

The Happening was Shyamalan's first R-rated project. It was a goofy, campy B-movie that I can honestly say I somewhat enjoyed. It topped Lady in the Water and The Village with bad reviews, yet I couldn't help but appreciate Shyamalan just having fun. I enjoyed it for all the wrong reasons, and I don't really care. It gave me hope that maybe old M. Night still had it in him.

And then there was The Last Airbender. Ohhhhh boy, The Last Airbender. If you want me to provide a synopsis, I won't. Go here. I quite honestly cannot express without expletives how terrible this movie was. There were no good parts, no funny moments. It was two hours of frying pans to the head, one big bathroom break of a movie that left me feeling disgusted. I exited the theater wondering how The Last Airbender, based off a popular television show, actually made it to the cineplex. Don't they have advanced screenings or something, to critique movies before they're released to ensure they're fit for the theater? The critics at the showing for The Last Airbender were either tripping on LSD or dead. I was angry I spent any money seeing it, and if anyone reading this feels like they should give it a chance, don't. The acting is absolutely dead-pan, the plot makes no sense, and the special effects are lifeless. If you want further proof that it is quite possibly one of the most disappointing films ever made, check out the TomatoMeter. And there's going to be a sequel!

M. Night Shyamalan was at one time my favorite director. I loved Signs, Unbreakable and The Sixth Sense. They were bold, challenging films that required intellect to enjoy. I don't know what happened. Somewhere after those 3, something in Shyamalan's brain turned off. It was as if his imagination said "F*ck it" and blasted out ridiculous ideas one after the other. Redemption will be a long, tumultuous road for this man, and with another Airbender film on the way, it looks like it won't come any time soon.

However, the light at the end of the tunnel is not completely distinguished. There are three (planned) films being released in the next few years under the supervision of Shyamalan entitled "The Night Chronicles." The first of the three, called "Devil", looks promising. Here's the Wiki page. Let's all hope it isn't another God-awful piece of trash.

Everything Ravaged, Everything Burned

Most people have not heard of Wells Tower, few have read his work, and even fewer have written about it. This is disappointing, because not since Flannery O'Connor's Everything That Rises Must Converge has the American short story been so deliciously unique and entertaining as in Everything Ravaged, Everything Burned. While O'Connor wrote of violence and redemption, Tower constructs worlds where both are at times ubiquitous, and at others non-existent. His prose slingshots the reader between sadness, horror, joy and liveliness within the confines of only a few pages, enticing us closer and closer to emotional retribution. We travel to the far off land of good-humored Vikings, a frustrated little boy, teenage romance and rebellion, feuding brothers and scandalous infidelity, guided only by the slick prose Tower wields with seemingly little effort.

Each story is its own sequestered gem, completely contained within itself as all great stories should be. Tower tells the tales he wishes to tell efficiently, while avoiding literature cliches that befall so much of the new fiction these days. They are completely "in the now," twisting the traditional beginning middle and end format to their liking.

One particular story I wish to highlight is my favorite of the bunch, which shares the title of the book itself. It follows a band of spiritless vikings who, in their tedium, go for a good old fashioned raid. It is here that Tower exercises his talent for evoking both belly laughs and gasps of surprise almost simultaneously. The Vikings, ingeniously endowed with present-day humor and dialogue, embark on their raid in a flurry of perversion, expletives and bloodshed. There is one act of violence, perpetrated by the top-ranking Viking, that spits in the face of what we call funny, but makes us laugh anyway. I appreciate this not only for its refreshing quality, but for the way Tower confesses through his writing the understanding that it takes a little bit of ridiculous to have fun. I finished Everything Ravaged, Everything Burned feeling invigorated, having been confirmed that there does exist at least one great modern short story writer. I highly recommend this book so that you may feel the same way.

The best part of the summer

The Discovery Channel's Shark Week, or Happy Shark Week as it is know this year, has finally arrived. I'm very excited, because through my eyes, Shark Week has only been getting better and better since Mythbusters joined in on the festivities in 2005 with their episode dedicated to Jaws.

It appears the new lineup of specials will cover everything from the powerful bites of the world's toughest sharks, to an entire episode dedicated to how high a Great White can leap out of the water. To say I am excited is an understatement.

The whole week-long event officially starts tonight, but one look at the Shark Week page on Facebook proves that the party's already started. I'll post more on the specials as they air over the course of the week. This is the link to Shark Week Home. Enjoy!

In the Shadow of Man

When it comes to reading, I prefer to keep an open mind as to what kinds of books I read. I enjoy classics like Catch-22 and Watership Down alongside the mainstream fiction of Michael Crichton and Dan Brown. I can read Flan O'Brian's The Third Policeman one week, and Carl Sagan's Pale Blue Dot the next. By doing this, I feel I have allowed myself to break free of favoritism. I'm very glad I did, too, because over the last few months I've had some really great reads.

The book I want to highlight is one that took me by surprise. I found it while walking through Barnes and Noble one afternoon, in the Nature section. It's called In the Shadow of Man, by Jane Goodall. I had always known of Jane Goodall and her work, but never the details. In the Shadow of Man encapsulates the early years of her work with the chimpanzees of the Gombe nature preserve in Africa. Her experiences are brought to life in a vivid, undeniably moving narrative that is not normally found in a non-fiction book. I would rank her up with Carl Sagan as one of the most talented science writers of the 20th century.

What makes In the Shadow of Man such a great read is the honest, heartfelt manner in which Goodall describes her time with the chimps. She steers clear of anthropomorphism as well as she can, yet we cannot help but see a bit of ourselves in the chimpanzees she interacts with. They are individuals with personalities and flaws, who together build a complex, highly social society with eerie similarities to our own. I was taken aback by how moving an account of the death of a chimpanzee could be when chronicled in Goodall's lucid prose. I felt genuine sadness for them, and for Jane, who had watched them grow over the years of her studies into what we could call heroes, cowards, parents, and friends. The passages depicting friendship amongst the chimps are by far the most enthralling parts of the book. You realize the depths that relationships between chimpanzees can reach, nearly matching our own. It raises a multitude of questions as to what defines human, where is the line drawn?

The approach Goodall takes to answer these questions is one of the highlights of her work. She presents a powerful argument for the continuation of research and preservation of chimp culture on the basis that we can learn much about ourselves in the process. If you aren't much of a chimp person, or you just don't know much about them, I strongly encourage you to give this book a try. By chance I discovered it, and it opened my eyes to a topic I knew very little about. Also, take a stroll through Barnes and Noble sometime, you never know what you'll find.