Second Sin

She heard the scream from the fields and knew it was her son. She put down her basket of fruit, called for her husband, and ran out to see what had happened.

She ran so hard and fast her legs burned for the first time ever. She'd never needed to run before. She found him, sleeping against one of the big trees he loved so much. A calf lay dead not far from him. It's blood was everywhere, including on her son's face, neck and hands along with on some fruit on the ground.

"Wake up," she said. "There's still more work to be done. We've got to get you cleaned up."

He didn't move, still sleeping soundly.

"Wake up," she said again, bending down and shaking him.

It was then she realized he was not sleeping, but was dead. And the blood was not all from the calf, but also from him. She'd never seen a dead person before, much less her darling son.

She wept.


Act Your Age

Methuselah didn't need the cane, it just helped him feel old.

      He'd tried just about everything to feel his age, but after 900 years nothing really seemed to work. He'd stayed in rest homes with mortals who had a tough time getting around at 75. Methuselah, at 75, hadn't even had a gray hair much less trouble moving.

      He'd faked the need for bifocals, tried out a wheelchair, and had even worn an adult diaper, but in the end none of it helped. No matter what he did, Methuselah was old, felt young, and it pissed him off.

      Finally, he'd bought the cane, hunched over in a pretend effort, and suffered through not being able to really act his age.


"There can never be too much chivalry."

Lately I've been feeling this need for knighthood in our culture. Knights were real men. They fought for what they believed in, treated others with respect, and above all else had ideals that defined them. Coincidentally, I feel like knights are all around me.

-I have the Rebel Alliance tattoo on my arm. While it is not specifically a Jedi tattoo, it does represent a lot of things to me including my love for the Jedi Knights and what they stood for in defending the Star Wars galaxy.



I don't know what it is about this song, but I'm absolutely obsessed. It constantly makes me want to think, want to tear up, want to kiss my wife, want to slay a dragon, want to fight against all odds, want to strive to be a better man, want to relax, want to be strong, want to live.

The song "Time" from the Inception Score by Hans Zimmer has got me tied up in it's bar graph. It has quickly become the most listened to songs on my iTunes. It is epic and small, familiar and unique, classic Zimmer and new Zimmer.

There are times when I forget how inspiring film score has been. From an early age, I just really liked movie music. John Williams started it all. Then Alan Silvestri kept it going. A little Danny Elfman during the wild days. A dozen others thrown in for good measure Ennio Morricone, Nino Rota, Thomas Newman. And then there's Zimmer.

Hans has done something unique in forming his company Remote Control Productions. It is a posse of film composers all developing music for motion pictures. It is really outstanding. Like a meeting of the minds.

I'm inspired by this concept. Who knows maybe someday I will have a similar company, but for creative types.

Until then, listen to Time and see what it makes you think. Comments welcome.


Never Give Up, Terry Gilliam

Last night Audrey was writing up a script report for fivespockets.com. It appears that once again Terry Gilliam's long in development The Man who Killed Don Quixote has once again run out of financing and has halted production. While reading her report over her shoulder, I scoffed at Gilliam's pursuits.

"He's never going to get that off the ground," I said.

"Why do you say that," she asked, continuing to write.

"Because he has a stupid story nobody wants to spend money on," I said. "He doesn't need to have the main character go back in time and meet Don Quixote. He should just make the book into a movie."

Audrey glanced at me with a wrinkled brow.


I had no rebuttal. She had a point. One word from my wife's lips had me stumped.

Why couldn't he do whatever he wanted?  And better yet, why had I copped such an attitude toward one of my childhood heroes? Why had I scoffed at the first director who made me really think about how weird this world is? Why had I become a cynical jerk?


Going the Distance (His Review) A Couple Spoilers

Audrey and I got the special chance of seeing a movie together on a Sunday night. This is a rare treat, because I work on Monday mornings and that limits our time on the last night of the weekend. Thanks to Labor Day we ventured out to see Going the Distance, the new Drew Barrymore/ Justin Long rom com. After the movie, we didn't talk about it, saving our opinions for our first He said/She said reviews. Audrey's review Going the Distance (Her Review) is here.

Going the Distance is the next film in a long line of films that could've been great, but wasn't due to the incessant need to be filthy. I'm not sure why we need all of the endless conversations in movies that revolve around oral sex, male genitalia, female genitalia, performing oral sex on yourself, performing oral sex on your spouse, women talking about oral sex, poop, oral sex. Believe it or not, I'm not a prude, but if I had to hear Jason Sudeikis say "Dick" one more time I think I would've walked out, gone home, and watched The Sound of Music.