Moving.

Its a brand new year, and one of the things I resolved to do was have my own personal website than a free blog.  So here it is at The (david) Press.com.  Sorry for the uber-pretentious title, but davidpress.com was taken and the title is meant to represent a publication title rather than the obvious: “the one and only David Press.”  Anyone who knows me knows the last thing I want to come off as is pretentious.  Most of the content over there will not change from here, but  will integrate my Tumblr posts, which is really just a collection of stuff I like around the ‘net.  So update your feeds and whatever else you need to do and join me over there.

Thanks for reading for as long as you all have and I can finally say this is the last move I’ll make from now on.

Best of 2008: Movies.

I’ve seen four movies since being back in the city after Christmas.  The Spirit, Slumdog Millionaire, The Wrestler, and Benjamin Button. Sorry, I refuse to type out the whole name for that snooze fest.  Having seen all of these movies, I’m still convinced that they don’t hold a candle to WALL-E and The Dark Knight.  Those two summer blockbusters were not only entertaining, they had better stories, and were far more original and daring than any of the (three) critically acclaimed movies listed above.  

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button was something quite different for director David Fincher.  Fincher, more known for his crime films like Seven, Zodiac, and Fight Club continues his love affair with Brad Pitt in something completely different. A heart-felt, if not heart-string pulling film with magnificently dull performances.  This movie proved to me why no matter how good a story is (and I freakin’ love the F. Scott Fitzgerald short story) or the chances taken by a director not known for this kind of movie can sweep an audience into sheer boredom by the the disinterested acting.  I just could not get into Brad Pitt or Cate Blanchett. Perhaps it had something to do with the CGI used with Pitt, but I feel like I’m making excuses for an actor who is way better than this.

Slumdog Millionaire, however, was a lovely modern fairy tale, with terrific music orchestrated by M.I.A and composer A.R. Rahman.  I was actually shocked that M.I.A. had anything to do with this music and contributed to this delightful film with a score that was quite different.  Considering, M.I.A.’s uber-popular album, is nails on a chalkboard awful.  Its just noise, not Slipknot noise, but noise. The film though, like something ripped from National Geographic is beautiful.  Which is to be expected with Danny Boyle’s mastery of the Documentary-style directing.  This movie is a nice, beautiful gem with characters you fall in love with, and what seems to be a trend in this year’s best movies a departure from the usual Danny Boyle material.  

The Wrestler, was fascinating, and I think Mickey Rourke should win for Best Actor, but he probably won’t.  Rourke, is just awesome and this movie is subtle, and graphic.  Definitely not for the squemish. Just in the fact that after the match they congratulate each other for putting on a good show; a good show being either body slamming someone through a table wrapped in barbed wire or shooting a staple gun at each other.  Just kind of disturbing.  Rourke gives a terrific performance and I think its about time he gets his due but I think he is seriously going to have a hard time winning against Sean Penn.  

The Spirit, heh, that was trash.  I mean, I’m kind of glad it did so horrible but its got a quirky charm to it. Its so bad in moments that I couldn’t stop laughing.  Well, actually, Samuel L. Jackson has charm no one else does.  Jackson is at his loveable weirdest in this movie and if you do see this movie: see it for him.  I couldn’t stop laughing at him, but the movie was pretty wretched.

A movie that magnificently under-whelmed me from the trailer was Revolutionary Road.  They had a trailer for this movie in virtually every theater we went to in seeing these movies and every time I said: “That looks like the most boring, derivative movie ever.  Oh its Sam Mendes! Director of another highly overrated derivative movie: American Beauty.”  I mean, who wants to see a movie about a suburban couple and how “trapped” they feel in their lives and their white-picket fenced jail?  God, what a knuckle shuffle on the piss pump.

However, none of these movies compare to The Dark Knight or WALL-E–the best movies of the year, I saw.  These two are just above and beyond anything else I saw this year. 

With Dark Knight, you have an incredible cast all performing well with one of them performing at a level you couldn’t have guessed was him.  Seriously, Heath Ledger was taken over by that role, a man possessed. Clearly, but I’m not breaking any new ground with this opinion.  Christian Bale, though a stellar actor, and probably the best Batman/Bruce Wayne we’re ever likely to see seemed to know that he wasn’t the star of this show.  And his performance wasn’t as good as it should have been. Gary Oldman, however, was what did it for me. He’s such a level-headed calm demeanor to him that his Gordon was a quiet but in moments showed a severity to rival his outlandish counterparts.  Faced with a deeply psychological examination of the Joker/Batman fight, Christopher Nolan with his brother Jonathan wrote a masterful screenplay.  I seriously think, above anything else, that the screenplay should be nominated for an Oscar.  People have their issues with it especially with the final end scene between Harvey and the Gordon family but that end scene affirmed for me what makes a good screenwriter and decent one.  For me, I feel like a writer should leave you guessing at the end.  Leave you with something to discuss and trying to wrap your head around when you leave that theater. That’s what The Wrestler did really well.  This idea is also a dangerous gamble.  I’ve seen the movie twice now since Christmas and I still don’t quite understand why Harvey kidnapped Gordon’s family, its not clear to me or why Batman has to go on the run.  It doesn’t make sense, but I enjoy the discourse I have in my head in trying to figure it out.  Though, why I say this is the best movie of the year is the across the board goodness throughout the movie.  Stellar even direction, a really spectacular script that moves fast and never leaves you not entertained, music that haunted and performances from stellar actors and actresses performing at the top or near the top of their game.

WALL-E is the best example of an across the board appeal to adults and their children.  People say that about all of Pixar’s films but this one really worked that angle perfectly.  You had the exceptionally disturbing political commentary on our over-eating as a race, the destruction of our planet and then you have these two robots fall in love with each other.  For me, what I really loved and came away from this movie is the appreciation it was to Charlie Chaplin as a filmmaker. For the first half of the movie there was no dialogue to speak of. The animation, was beautifully detailed and this also testified to another thing I believe about movies.  You should walk out of that theater thinking about your current circumstances, but you should do it with a smile on your face and that is a magnificently hard thing to do. WALL-E did that, where I feel like the rest of these top contenders for best movie of the year don’t do it nearly as well.

Best of 2008: Comics.

 

This was a pretty down year for comics, to be honest. Both company’s events spin on the side of total boredom to mind-blowing weirdness to the point its unclear exactly what is going on.  Though what is funny is Secret Invasion seemed to try so damn hard, really hard, to make it very clear what was going on it got to such a point where all they did for a number of issues was repeat itself.  Where in Final Crisis, next to nothing was explained.  The fact that Grant Morrison wastes no time trying to explain a bit, which is down right Mamet like, according to Kevin Church. And it is scatter-brained, but that’s why I like it.  Because Morrison is so weird and all over the place it makes you pay attention rather than be bored to tears and saying: we’ve covered this-we get it. Why is this series eight issues again?

So, let’s get this party started. The best mini-series was Umbrella Academy.  I liked the series so much I decided to give writer Gerard Way’s music a try, and, yeah, he shouldn’t make music.  Not while Billy Corgan is still alive and can claim plagiarism.  Though his skills as a writer are fully formed, he borrows from familiar elements like Doom Patrol, but people have borrowed from other literary elements in comics to develop their own work. So if you don’t read the book because you think it’s a blatant rip-off of Morrison’s run on Doom Patrol, then honestly you’re a shallow person because you’re missing out on something that is really original and beautifully done.  Dave Stewart colors Gabriel Ba in what is probably Ba’s breakout hit (if Casanova didn’t get people paying attention than this series definitely does and this is confirmed by his Eisner win). The art is just breath-taking with a weird, arcane, almost MTV Music video feel to the characters in their matching uniforms flying around and destroying living Eifel Towers and what-have-you.  If anything that’s what I do not like about the series is it seems too much like a MTV music video, but that’s really small peas to be honest.  Because of this series, Gabriel Ba is my artist of the year.

The best continuing series is Casanova.  Seriously, the second volume of this series really broke wide open.  Changing it up from Gabriel Ba to his twin brother Fabio Moon, and from the lush green colors to somber blue, this book could be the most fun and most original book put out there. Everything about it breaks new ground.  From the 16 pages given to tell a story, to the expressive art that in no way feels restrained by the strict Slimline format.  What really gets me is the growth on Matt Fraction’s part. I’ve been a fan of his since Five Fists of Science came out and when he broke out with this series I’ve been rooting for him to do well since.  Marvel snatched him and he’s done work on Punisher War Journal, Immortal Iron Fist, Invincible Iron Man, Thor and now Uncanny X-Men.  The thing about Fraction is he is such a kinetic writer, there is a boat load of energy in every word he puts on a page, and that works so well with kinetic artists like (Ba, Moon, and David Aja), but takes a big hit when you have very dry photo centric art that he’s been plagued with at Marvel (see: Greg Land, Ariel Olivetti, and Salvador Larocca).  However, it seems now he’s managed to overcome that obstacle with Iron Man and his storytelling has been able to overcome the really boring art by Larocca.  Because of this fact, Fraction is my writer of the year.

The best superhero book of the year is, overall, the Green Lantern books.  What convinced me of this idea was the Sinestro Corps War event, which was the event of the year.  Just downright fucking incredible, the scope and size of the Green Lantern universe is a universe within a universe in DC Comics. With all sorts of interesting characters with different belief systems and then you have your in with the human Green Lanterns: Hal Jordan, Kyle Rayner, John Stewart, and Guy Gardner.  The four of them individually are fascinating: Hal is the beacon of human heroism, Kyle is the artist, John is the military man and Guy is the wild card.  Think about an entire line of different alien species with such attention to detail with their characters, unique looks and a battle that spans the stars.  Tack on Sinestro as a intergalactic Hitler out to cleanse the universe, recruiting the Anti Monitor, Superboy(man? Whatever)-Prime, and other notable bad asses made that entire event kick ass.  Written by DC masterminds Geoff Johns and Peter Tomasi, drawn by the excellent Ivan Reis who drew one of the best fist fights I’ve ever seen in a comic, combine it with Patrick Gleason who draws a space battle like no one can and you have a bad ass pair of books.

The team book of the year is End League.  Starting with Rick Remender, who is easily one of the most prolific indy creators and someone who is going to bust open the mainstream comics line in 2009.  But I feel like people write that about him all the time, in the kind of way that Matt Fraction did a year and half ago.  Though I really truly believe that to be true, this year.  This is a team book to end all team books, its like the final journey of the Justice League in a post-apocalyptic world where the bad guys have won and the good guys are dying in every issue.  I mean, by the second issue they kill off the Superman archetype character and every issue since has been another nail in the coffin of this team of archetypes.  Its like Remender’s commentary on mainstream superhero teams and their last battle.  This series started out with the incomparable Mat Broome on art, and then moved to Eric Canete.  The difference in style could have been really jarring, but these two artists do something so different, they manage to transform Remender’s mission and display a different things about this journey that Remender is taking us on in a time of no hope. 

The best original series was Brian Wood and Ryan Kelly’s Local.  This was an intensely personal series for me.  We follow Meghan and a couple of others in her travels around the U.S.  For someone who has lived and spent many years in many places with different crops of people, this series really spoke to that side of me.  The side that still questions where I’m from. Am I from New York City? Or New Jersey? Or Connecticut? Or Lake Placid? I say Lake Placid because of the most good memories and good friends and this book spoke to that idea.  Why I waited this long is because of that gorgeous hardcover collecting the entire series.

Happy New Year to all of you folks. Thanks for tuning into my little spot on the comics blogosphere. See you on the other side!

Best of 2008: Books.

Note.

For my “Best of…” series, it should be said that the lists are simply NOT the best overall in each category [comics, movies, tv, books or music] but the best things I read, watched or listened to in the designated year.

Just so we’re clear.

 

I’ve read a ton of books this year and way too many uninteresting ones for grad school.  I’ve read Terry Eagleton’s Ideology, Persuasion by Jane Austen, The Godfather, Exit Strategy by Douglas Rushkoff, Pattern Recognition by William Gibson, Theory of the Leisure Class by Thorstein Veblen, The Souls of Black Folk by W.E.B. Dubois, The Disinherited  by Jack Conroy, No-No Boy by John Okada, Ceremony by Leslie Marmon Silko, and virtually all the complete works of William Wordsworth, Lord Byron, Percy Bysshe Shelley and various other women poets.  Its been a tough year for reading for me, and I was afraid of this, that it would become a chore more than a pleasure and that’s when reading is no longer fun.  So, I shook up the required reading with David Benioff’ City of Thieves, and upon his death, dived head first into the David Foster Wallace pool.  

A lot of the stuff from this semester was utterly forgettable and/or arcane to the point of boredom.  Which is probably one of the reasons why I think I’m going to dump this program at Brooklyn College, because when I think about it I want to get my masters degree in something that will actually improve skills that I already have.  And discussing the meaning of Proletariat Literature is not something I consider will advance me as a person. In the end, I want to get something more than just a sheet of paper, which I fear is the only thing Brooklyn College can provide.

However, this semester wasn’t a total loss. I had a fucking brilliant class in Literature and Society where we read notable things not Great Depression non-fiction and Romantic (aka Vapid) literature.  We read books that have modern cultural meaning and commented on modern society in the form of Mario Puzo’s The Godfather, William Gibson’s Pattern Recognition and Douglas Rushkoff’s Exit Strategy.  I’m actually ashamed of myself for not reading The Godfather, but Pattern Recognition I bought last year, started it and then walked away from it.  I’ve seen Rushkoff speak on a number of occasions, and he’s a fascinating as shit guy so I knew his book wouldn’t disappoint.

However, Gibson fucking hooked me, line and sinker. And I fully intend on using my $50 Borders Gift Card to pick up a bunch of his stuff.  Pattern Recognition is easily one of the most forward-thinking novels I’ve ever read. Gibson is carefully precise with his writing.  He has an almost Philip K. Dick science fiction mentality mixed with James Ellroy-like prose.  If that style doesn’t make you want you want to read him, then the story behind this novel will. 

Cayce Pollard is a new kind of prophet-a world renowned ‘coolhunter’ who predicts the hottest trends.  While in London to evaluate the re-design of a famous corporate logo, she’s offered a different assignment: find the creator of the obscure, enigmatic video clips being uploaded to the Internet…still haunted by the memory of her missing father-a Cold War security guru who disappeared in downtown Manhattan on the morning of September 11, 2001-Cayce is soon traveling through parallel universes of marketing, globalization, and terror, heading always for the still point where the three converge. From London to Tokyo to Moscow, she follows the implications as disturbing-and compelling-as the twenty-first century promises to be…

Framed as a thriller, this book is a commentary on the current Twenty-First century mentality of paranoia, internet usage and conspiracy.  It is so smartly written, that this book has quickly climbed to being one of the two books that I would most likely recommend as the highest form of modern writing.  This book and The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay are now one and two on books I most recommend.

After Gibson, at the tail end of this year, I’ve been devouring everything David Foster Wallace has written.  When he died, I read all of the articles on him and read some that were posted online.  I previously read “The View from Mrs. Thompson’s,” in Rolling Stone when it came out, because I was a subscriber in college, and was incredibly moved by it and some other bits of writing of his. The one that most impacted me was that commencement speech that everyone seems to know from Kenyon College’s graduation ceremonies in 2005.  So, after his death there was an upswing of people reading his stuff and I was one of those people, which I’m ashamed of.  One of the things I most appreciate about being a Hunter S. Thompson fan was I read him when he was still alive and still putting out work. Now that he’s gone I feel his loss more personally because I so appreciated his writing during a formative period of my life.  I mean: I couldn’t stop thinking to myself throughout this election period what the Good Doctor would have written about.  I’m sure I’m one of hundreds of thousands of people who thought the same thing so forgive me for being un-original but its something I do best.

So, when Wallace died and I read the articles and more things. Read his profile on David Lynch, and the Adult Film industry and decided to dive head first into his masterpiece, Infinite Jest.  What I came away with, and why I’m saying I feel ashamed, is his honesty which just comes through with every word he writes.  And I think that’s why I’m writing it as if I’m ashamed-it has gotten me to be more honest with things I observe about my own nature as a human being.  Which I feel like is Wallace’s legacy.

But the thing that I am so impacted by his writing is specifically his honest nature that comes through, but also his ability to just write about life in a clear way.  He just fucking gets it in ways that others do not.  Frankly, David Sedaris, Chuck Klosterman and the rest owe him their careers.

Best of 2008: TV.

Note.

Programming this year improved.  

Lost finally seemed to get some of their shit together with the idea of moving forward in time in a blatant rip-off attempt at what DC Comics tried to do post-Infinite Crisis with the One Year Later event.  Though OYL fails to get me to remember anything memorable other than the unforgettable and groundbreaking 52 series.  However, using the OYL idea has completely revitalized Lost for me.  Though we’re going back to the island we’ve finally landed on a situation that is intriguing, rather than the millions of flashbacks the producers spent three seasons as a way in to character development.  Sorry, a flashback is a lazy story device, but when you start off a series the way Abrams, Lindelof, et al did -you really have no other choice than back into that corner. And it was interesting for a while, but after three seasons-no one is that interesting-especially when they are such carbon cut-out characters.  Though switching it up in a One Year Later style mixes things up and makes it at least intriguing rather than frustrating. Though the “moving the island,” by way of wood crane is as frustrating as anything else Lindelof and company has ever done, if not more annoying, that entire conceit just wreaked of laziness without any rhyme or reason.  I came to this belief by the way it was inferred from the start: “we’re just going to have to move the island,” Ben says with such non-chalance that I couldn’t help but throw up my hands and say: “Sure, why not? Why not do that? We can do it, just because we can. Ben has that technology.  He doesn’t know where that technology came from but he’s going to do it anyway.” The whole thing came off as a middle finger pointed in the face of audience members, and confirmed for me what the difference is between a good show, and a bad one.  A good show presents the audience with descriptors that clue the audience into why characters do what they do without ever telling them.  A bad show tells them. In this case, the descriptor is: “this is a mysterious island where all kinds of arcane experiments went on. That’s all we’re giving you to back up why women can’t get pregnant, why there is a smoke monster, and why we can just move the island as a solution to all of our problems.”

Though this problem does make Lost teter on the edge of being a crap show, it manages to still grab my attention and make me want to see what comes next.  It is the best show on television at getting you to come back every episode because of that mystery it so attaches itself to. There are certain key elements that make it a bad show, there are other things that evens it out and that’s what Lindelof and the rest of the writers count on, and that is why its masterful: it pulls it from the edge of crap to being a genuine enticing drama.  So, in the end, it’s a decent program with many faults.  And, ultimately, 100 % watchable, in a similar way that makes “reality” show programming continue, when it should not.

Battlestar Galactica remains the best show on television. Now that they’ve reached Earth, it sort of confirms what I always believed.  That Earth was the original colony, and the outer planets (Caprica, etc.) were the colonies and not the originator.  Commenting, in a way, on the thirteen colonies that founded America.

The new shows I got into this year were Californication, Eli Stone and The Venture Bros. I watched a couple of dangling episodes of The Venture Bros., but never had any real context to the program, until I rented it through my Blockbuster Queue.  I simply could not stop watching it.  There’s nothing to really say why I liked this show, because it is so damn perfect, with stellar theme music. 

Eli Stone, is a nice show done by the current Green Lantern movie developers Greg Berlanti, Marc Guggenheim and Michael Green. They’ve got a sharp one going here, unfortunately no one thinks so and it is going to be done soon.  A shame, because this is a witty alternative to Ally McBeal with far better acting and nicer people to look at, and, as far as I can tell, better writing.  Though I think I only watched a episode or two of Ally McBeal and that was just a cringe-worthy show.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now Californication is not a particularly different or noteworthy show.   It relies on you liking David Duchovny and/or his character; if you don’t like him or his character than the show would be utterly forgettable.

Why I like the character is he is moody (no pun intended considering the character’s name is Hank Moody), he’s a talented fuck-up with a sharp wit and a helluva vocabulary. One of my favorite scenes is Hank giving a reading at a LA book store when the director who bastardized his novel stops by to pick a fight with him over talking shit about the director in the press. The exchange is priceless.

MOODY: Ladies and Gentlemen Todd Carr, the caramel-coated, chrome-domed auteur who took my precious little novel, wiped his ass, and transformed it into the craptastic crowd pleaser also known as A CRAZY LITTLE THING CALLED LOVE.

CROWD: [cat-calling sounds] OOOOO.

MOODY: My people.

CARR: You’re still bitching about whoring yourself out to Hollywood?

MOODY: Only when my Pimp isn’t around.

CARR: You’re no fucking Faulkner, y’know.

MOODY: Yeah, you’re no Brett fucking Ratner. Or in your case that could be a compliment, in that case, I didn’t mean to.

CARR [approaching Moody]: I’m sick of you talking shit about me in the press.

MOODY: Oh, so that’s why you’re here. I thought you were here because you found out I fucked your wife in every room of your house. No? Every room of your house. Oh, and I’m sorry about the rug, I didn’t realize the Old Lady was a squirter.

Fist fight breaks out. 

The other aspect of this show is the character says things writers have been saying for years. Or at least he voices a pet peeve that I’ve ranted about for years before ever watching this show. For example, in the episode “Lol,”  Hank spends the episode reprimanding his girlfriend for enabling the death of the English language by speaking in Lolspeak.  Which is using the abbreviated terms for laughing out loud ["lol"] and being right back ["brb"], in everyday language, and not in the accepted platform of AIM.  But using it in that latter context has been annoying the shit out of me since everyone started using it back when everyone was on America Online in 1998.  Even then I would type in those instant message windows, “don’t use ‘lol’ if you think something is funny write ‘hahaha’,” but people don’t want to write that; they exist in an immediate quick way of communicating.  Its like a short, sweet, ultra-refined short hand, designed to communicate easily but comes off ass butt-licking lazy. Its short hand for people who don’t want to take the time to think about what they are saying. 

I went off there didn’t I? Better end this before it gets too ranty 

 

Disclaimer.

For my “Best of…” series, it should be said that the lists are simply NOT the best overall in each category [comics, movies, tv, books or music] but the best things I read, watched or listened to in the designated year.

Just so we’re clear.

Best of 2008: Music.

Note: it should be said that this is not a list of the very best in music put out this year, but the best music I listened to in 2008.

No, Guns N Roses will not be on here, neither will the new Oasis album.  To be honest, this year’s music has been less than great. 

The only immediate thing that I can say comes on my iTunes that continues to entertain me throughout the year is Nick Cave’s Dig Lazarus Dig!  Which if there was a modern poet on the level of Allen Ginsberg, Nick Cave would be that guy. Infused with a little bit of Tom Waits, and an ability to write probably the best Western I’ve seen (The Proposition) since Sergio Leone, this is probably the smartest album of the year. Tracks to listen to: “We Call Upon the Author,” and “Albert Goes West.”

The other album, graciously supplied by Alex Carnevale at This Recording would be Belle & Sebastian’s The BBC Sessions.  Forgive me, if I sound a little too much like an urban hipster, but I have never listened to a single thing from this group before this album.  Just call me someone who is a sucker for John Peel produced tracks. This is a good, not mind-blowing, album that you plug into your stereo with a scotch and a book.  Definitely a nice alternative if you want to get away from Christmas music at this time.  “Like Dylan at the Movies,” is what I like. 

For the second year in a row, My Morning Jacket makes this list. I’m usually massively against the idea of repeats because of its monotony and I don’t like writing over and over why I like a band.  I want to pick something completely different and eclectic each year, and that is simply the reason why I did so with this group.  Their latest album, Evil Urges, is so different than anything the band has done before that I couldn’t exclude it. My first reaction to the title track was: “This sounds absolutely NOTHING like anything that came before.  It was like lead singer Jim James went into the shop to get his oil changed and came out with a new set of vocal cords.  His voice can now go from a scraggily almost Mighty Mighty Bosstones quality to his usual crooning sound.

They’re playing at Madison Square Garden on New Years this year, and I thought about getting tickets, but changed my mind as soon as I thought about it. I detest the Garden’s theatres, so massive and minus any kind of character. I’ll hold out until they play a place like, say, Webster Hall.

The last album is TV On The Radio’s Dear Science.  Talking about this band the other night at the every year Christmas Eve Eve party at my friend’s apartment above the Lake Placid Christmas Store, we talked about how old this band is.  Fraction recommended this album, and every time he recommends something I almost always dig the shit out of it, (UNKLE’S War Stories, is another example of this fact). Every single track on this album is a testament to the diversity throughout the band.  The “Shout Me Out,” track just makes me jump and dance around like Snoopy.  More than likely the album of the year, if not for the fact it resides in splendid musical diversity track by track.

hey, you guys. Guys!

Have I got your attention? Okay, well, I seriously thought I just heard Santa Claus in the other room.  Yes, thought.  Meaning the end of this story has no real punch line other than disappointment and dog shit on the living room floor. 

Okay, so it was 7am and I couldn’t sleep on Christmas Day (shocker), and I’m in the bathroom taking care of business for lack of anything else to do.  I’m reading the recent issue of Daredevil, when I turn to page two, and hear my dog suddenly get up in the living room and start tick-tick-ticking around.  He seemed to be extremely active, even running around, which for a nearly sixteen year-old Bichon is highly unlikely.  And then I hear this other almost silence, but enough OTHER noise to seem like there is someone else in the living room.  

The Other Noise being mostly rustling.  Like someone is pulling something out of a bag, the tree moving because stuff  is being shifted around, and this whole time, no footsteps just the tick-tick-ticking of my dog’s nails on the hardwood floor.  Like whoever is in the other room isn’t actually on the ground moving around stuff, but there was enough sound to make me think there was someone other than the dog in the living room.  

At this point, you’re probably thinking it could have been my parents.  This is impossible though,  the bathroom I was using is in the hallway between my room and my parents.  I could hear my Dad snoring through the wall, and my Mom in the bathroom doing something in the sink.  Besides if it were my parents, or my brother I would have heard their footsteps go past me. Nothing ever went by the bathroom door, and the rustling continued with only my dog’s footsteps.  It was as if the Other Noise had teleported into the living room.   

The entire bit only went on for maybe five minutes, max.  Though it felt like a half hour, images ran through my head that once I stepped out of the bathroom, the great big old jolly guy would be standing in the doorway. Or did I dare to sneak around the corner and catch him? Hell no, what if it was that murderous Santa Claus from the movie that seemed to be everywhere when I was a little kid? You know the one with the cover picture of a chimney and Santa going down it with a bloody axe.  No, I figure that if I went out I would simply not turn the corner and just say, “Thank you, sir.  Have a safe trip home.” And go directly into my room, and back to reading Infinite Jest, without even having to look into the living room.

No, I slid open the bathroom door to listen for any more of the Other Noise and heard literally none of the signs that previously made me think there was someone other than the dog in the living room. So I walked around the corner and found nothing disturbed at all, but a pile of poop and my dog pacing around.  The fireplace wasn’t open, nothing in the room had shifted, and especially no additions to the presents my family and I had left for each other under the tree.  It was 7: 33am and I put on the zip-up hoody my girlfriend gave me, put on snow boots, picked up the poop with paper towel, dry-heaved, and carried my dog outside. 

I looked around outside for any other sign there may be, like sled tracks left over on the deck or anything else.  There was nothing but big gusts of wind causing a whiteout swirling around my house and my old dog almost sinking into snowbanks and blending in with the snow. The sound of my disappointment came by way of cursing my old dog and having to step into foot half high snow banks to retrieve him.  Now my pajama pants are soaked at the ends and I’m cranky.

NOTE: Best of 2008 begins tomorrow. Happy holidays everyone! And thanks for taking the time out to read my bullshit. 

Best of 2008.

Its that time again, and starting tomorrow I’ll be posting about the things I liked in music, television, books and comics from this past year.

Health Ledger Oscar Campaign Ad.

UPDATED, because Casey has more info on these really awesome grass roots ads.