All The Bathorses and all the Batmen

I saw some "news" story about the mad rush for tickets for the upcoming Batman movie, and I got to thinking.  Specifically, I began to think about just how many Batman movies have come to theaters since the first Tim Burton film.  Do you realize that this will be the seventh Batman movie since 1989?  The list goes: Batman, Batman Returns, Batman Forever, Batman and Robin, Batman Begins, The Dark Knight,  and the somewhat forgotten animated film Batman: The Mask of the Phantasm.  I tried to think of other franchises that have been this prolific over the same time period, and I could only come up with two: James Bond, which will have had seven films since 1989 when Quantum of Solace opens later this year (License to Kill, Goldeneye, Tomorrow Never Dies, The World Is Not Enough, Die Another Day, Casino Royale and Quantum of Solace) and Star Wars, if you count the 1997 theatrical re-releases of the original trilogy, plus the new trilogy and the up-coming animated Clone Wars.  There have been five Harry Potter movies (and three or four to come, since they are splitting up the sixth book, and one would assume that they might do the same with Deathly Hallows.  And apparently, Saw V is going to come out this year, even though I have a hard time imagining who is clamoring for this.  (I just googled "movie franchises", and I realized I had completely forgotten about the Star Trek movies, of which there have been six installments since 1989.  Since I just watched the documentary Trekkies last night, I probably should have thought of that).  

Just something that occurred to me.

Don't even ask me about how my day went.  Suffice to say that trying to hook a laptop up to an ancient amplifier is a bitch.  After visiting a Best Buy, a Circuit City and a Target, I think I finally have daisy-chained enough adapters and cables together to actually get music to flow through the speakers for my sister's wedding reception, but I'm taking nothing on faith at this point.  I'd worry about the fidelity of the sound, but given some of the songs my sister has demanded, it might be a hidden blessing if people can only half-hear David Cook, "The Electric Slide", "The Cha-Cha Slide" (which is a more inane version of the electric slide.  I know, I didn't think it was possible either) and Edwin McCain (Do you like Hootie and the Blowfish?  Then you'll love their inbred cousin!  At least, that's how I remember him from the two weeks in 1995 when people gave a shit about Edwin McCain).  

(To be fair, she is letting me choose about 85 or 90 percent of the music, so it's kind of mean for me to keep mocking her taste.  On the other hand, I can't help it, because I'm the kind of person who thinks that High Fidelity hits a little close to home.)  

Talking Wedding Music Blues

Yesterday was the big conversation with my sister and her fiancee about what music will be played at the wedding reception.  It went slightly better than I expected, except for the moment when I was on the other side of the room, and unable to get to my computer before she downloaded George Michael's "Faith" from iTunes to play at the reception.  (That kind of sounds like a joke, but it really isn't.  She literally did this, even though I thought that we had reached a compromise when I agreed to play both a Bon Jovi song AND a Journey song in exchange for salvaging some shreds of my own self-worth).  Also, it's a very good thing that I never took the iTunes recommendations very seriously- after the last few weeks, the suggestions it kicks out are going to be amazingly schizophrenic.  Something along the lines of "I see you've bought Iggy Pop, Chris Bell [he was the key member of Big Star who wasn't named Alex Chilton, if you haven't been keeping score], and American Idol's David Cook.  We recommend The Stranglers, Brian Eno and Clay Aiken"

My sister's fiance's suggestions were more interesting.  If I do get married one day, I can imagine requesting several non-conventional wedding reception songs. But not, for example, "Bulls on Parade" by Rage Against the Machine, or Eminem's "Square Dance", or quite so many Beastie Boys songs.  After giving the matter some thought, I've actually become curious about how people would react to the Rage song, but alas, my sister vetoed that one out of hand, despite not ever having heard the song, except possibly while watching him play Guitar Hero. (The only time I can ever think of my sister referring to Rage was when I was in high school and she was in middle school, and she called them "The Raging, Dancing Machine".  Which in retrospect is kind of awesome).

So, yeah.  Next Saturday is going to be... something.  

The picture is of Sly Stone, for no real reason besides the fact that I like Sly & The Family Stone.  I will probably sneak "Dance to the Music' into the mix during the reception.

 

Quick Thoughts from the throes of insomnia

Keith's wedding turned out well, on the whole. I was more nervous than he was, as far as I could tell, but I managed to not lose the rings, and I completely failed to trip on my way to and from the front of the church. I could hardly have asked for more. In the end, it was decided that there would be no toasts. I had just about figured out what I was going to say, and I think that the words I had more or less settled on would have been appropriate and even somewhat lovely, even if they weren't particularly profound.

In other news, I heard that Terry Pratchett has been diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's. This is what we in the literary field refer to as "bad news". I've spent the past few months re-reading the Discworld novels, and I've been very pleased at how well they've stood up to second readings. I think it was a critic for the Washington Post who compared Pratchett to Chaucer, and I'm consistently jealous at not having thought of that myself. Pratchett's clearly not in the same pantheon as Chaucer, and I don't believe for a second that the Discworld novels will be held in anywhere near the same esteem as the Canterbury Tales, but there is a common worldview, and although I never studied Chaucer in the same depths as I studied Shakespeare or Donne or Nabokov in school, I feel like the old master would have appreciated Pratchett's sense of humor. It's just possible that the best of Pratchett's works (Small Gods, definitely, Carpe Jugulum, perhaps) might one day be required reading that undergraduates skim through on the night before the test. We can only hope.

I'm a little annoyed that three movies that I actually really want to see are all coming out on Friday: Sweeney Todd, Charlie Wilson's War and Walk Hard all look excellent, but I'm not sure if I'll get around to seeing all three in the theater, especially since I still haven't seen "No Country For Old Men".

Thursday night Slick Rick is doing a free show at the Cradle. At the moment, Keith and I are still planning on going. Really, the Little Brother show would have been the more poetic choice for the last show of a fantastic year in live music, but the bastards who control the schedules don't agree.

The Johnny Cash picture is just one I like. I guess since Walk Hard is in part a parody of Walk The Line (which was a pretty good movie that never bothered to flirt with greatness, if you want my opinion), I suppose the picture is somehow thematically appropriate.

Notes From The Chapel

Hey Yo.

So, Keith's wedding is later today. I'm his best man (apparently, the term "best" is being thrown around like confetti these days). I don' t really have a toast figured out yet, but I'm not too worried. I'll figure something out. I'm very, very, very tempted to steal Michael's toast from Phyllis' wedding on "The Office" ("Webster's defines 'wedding" as the fusing together of two metals...")

It came to me that the album I forgot to mention in my little list was Nine Inch Nails' "Year Zero". It's my favorite thing Trent Reznor has done since "The Downward Spiral". Actually, if you include his production of the Saul Williams album, and his guest appearance on what might be my favorite song of the year (El-P's "Flyentology", particularly the "Cassettes Won't Listen" remix") it was a pretty good year for Trent.

I finished the second season of "Lost" through the Netflix. I began watching the show mainly because Dwight Schrute likes it, and he was right about Battlestar Galactica. (For most people, that would be a joke, but I sometimes do make decisions based on things like that. I'm not sure if that's a healthy instinct or not). And I like it. But I do want them to, at some point, explain the fucking polar bear that attacked the castaways on the tropical island in the first episode. This show is worse than the X-Files at giving the viewers new mysteries before explaining the last two or three mysteries. I think that when I finish watching the third season I'm going to give "Heroes" a chance, if only because Jeph Loeb writes for the show.

The picture is of everyone's new favorite steroid user. I'm still of two minds about the Rocket being a cheater. On the one hand, it makes complete sense that the guy in his 40s with an ERA below 2 was juicing. It would actually be more surprising if he wasn't, if you really think about it. On the other hand, the notion that the greatest pitcher this side of Sandy Koufax was/is a steroid user is unquestionably jarring. I've accepted that the best hitter of all time who's name didn't start with "George" and end with "Herman Ruth" was/is a user, and to further have to expand my notions about this era and its defining players is vexing. I guess Clemens being an (alleged) user might be described as utterly credible and yet still so...disappointing? That's such an obvious statement that it borders on worthlessness, but it might be the best I can do at the moment. Of the rest of the names, I always disliked Andy Pettitte and Eric Gagne and Paul lo Duca, so I feel like the report just made somewhat irrational emotions suddenly become nearly rational. Which works for me.