The Rant King

IT'S STILL NICER THAN BROCCOLI

2009-06-19T09:17:00.008-04:00

There is nothing worse than corn. Well, except for bloggers who post only once or twice a month.

Seriously, though, corn is evil.

Sure, it's supposed to be this nice, healthy vegetable -- sweet to the taste when properly prepared.

But your stomach won't digest it.

Put your Orville's in the microwave too long and you'll be left with a permastench that would almost make halitosis a welcome intervention.

And it's this so-called saviour to the environment that when converted makes a fuel that nobody can afford to buy.

And that's just the recent stuff.

What about all those Children of the Corn movies? Did we ask for them? Again and again and again?

And what about M. Night Shyamalan's Signs? Where else are you gonna find malevolent aliens except in someone's corn field?

Yeah, I know there was corn in that nicey-nice Field of Dreams, too. But some of the ballplayers that came out of that corn were New York Yankees. Hello, Evil Empire?

Sure, I know the movie industry is to blame for those, but aren't movie studios owned by conglomerates?

And aren't all conglomerates evil?

See where I'm going with this?

You don't?

Yeah, me neither. But I'm sticking to peas and carrots all the same.

Stay tuned...

TRY ME

2009-06-01T15:16:00.006-04:00

Where's the remote?

Actually, this would make a pretty good rant, especially coming from a family of five. Nobody ever puts the remote control back in the same spot so if you want to change a channel (or adjust the volume... or look at the TV listing... or beat someone silly with it) you have to do it the hard way, which is get off your butt (or move your ass... or get off your can... or make a fist and swing, but not after a manicure).

In some houses remote controls are never found in the same spot twice. I've heard of cat people finding it in the litter box. But then that's what happens when you make your cat watch Full House reruns.

Under the couch is another popular spot, as is beneath the cushions. Beneath the cushions is cool because you can always scrape up enough for a coffee by the time you're done. But under the couch is dangerous because you just never know what's living under there.

I mean, you ever see Poltergeist? Yeah, I know, that clown was under a bed. Well, nowadays everybody has a sofabed, so it counts.

Almost makes me wish for the old days of console TV's and external, wired converter boxes. But that was back in the seventies. And let's face it -- I want to find the seventies much less than I want to find the remote.

Polyester makes me itch.

Stay tuned...

L IS FOR LAWNMOWER... AND LADDER

2009-05-13T13:05:00.003-04:00

So there's this guy who lives on my street. I've never met him, only seen him from afar. This is about his lawn. Simply put, I wish I had it.

His grass is smokin' (if you'll pardon the D.E.A. not-so approved pun). It's plainly obvious that he takes great care of it. He must mow it almost daily, because I don't think I've ever seen it grow. This is a guy who obviously is so passionate about his lawn he'd do Hank Hill proud. He has to have an endless supply of energy, unless he's paying a team of kids to keep things so neat and tidy.

And so comes the rub of the piece: his lawn is unbelievably nice (those recently mentioned dandelions wouldn't dare plant a root beneath it), and yet -- AND YET, I SAY -- he still has his Christmas lights hanging above the garage.

Not one set of lights, mind you, but two -- COUNT 'EM, TWO -- sets of lights. One is the "it was trendy ten years ago" icicle variety, and the other is the traditional energy draining bulb variety.

Maybe if he turned them on once in awhile -- and angled them into the garage -- he'd find his ladder.

If he really wants to impress me, the lawn is a good first step. A step upwards would be a good second.

Stay tuned...

THE LITTLE YELLOW MENACE

2009-05-10T09:10:00.003-04:00

It's an invasion.

No, the martians haven't landed, although some of this country's politicians are really out there.

What I'm talking about is the yearly crop of dandelions, or dandylions as some people like to spell it.

Let me tell you: there ain't a damn thing dandy about 'em.

And what's worse, they seem to be more prevalent this year than ever before. The wife disagrees with me, saying it's always been like this. But the deal breaker for me is the fact that the community baseball diamonds, which are hallowed ground (okay, not hallowed, but they are generally weed free), are starting to succumb to this most virulent of weeds.

It will be a sad day, but pretty soon there's going to be more dandelions than American Idol winners with failed careers.

A tragedy of unspeakable volumes to be sure.

Sigh.

Stay tuned...

THE BIG YELLOW MENACE

2009-04-30T08:29:00.006-04:00

They drive with reckless abandon, whipping up and down the street with hardly a care. Sometimes you hear them coming, when they drive the big boats with the bigger engines. But more often than not, they're driving smaller vehicles, which are quieter. Sometimes you don't realize they're a threat until they're almost running you over. So sad. Crossing the street should not be a hazard, especially on a smaller residential street, but that doesn't seem to be the case where I live. At least twice a day it's dangerous to cross the street because one never knows how lead-footed these lunatics are. It almost makes you want to stay indoors, but sometimes you just have to go out and do your duty.

I wrote that in January 0f 2006 on this very page. The subject of the rant was (believe it or not) school bus drivers. Not all, mind you. Most are the safe (read: slow), conscientious creatures they should be while shepherding the younger generation to and from the fortress of knowledge. But some are more dangerous behind the wheel than the neighbourhood teens in their souped-up Hondas.

Sadly, nothing has changed in the last three years.

One driver in a particular, a woman of about 50 driving a microbus, rockets down my street at an unbelievable pace on a daily basis. She has no kids on board, which leads me to think she's on the way home.

The law says we regular car folk have to stop our vehicles for a school bus that has stopped with lights flashing and stop sign extended in order to protect its former passengers as they cross the street. And so it should.

But I say an amendment is necessary to protect the majority of humanity, driver or pedestrian, that don't want to become pizza ingredients. The buses with the lead-footed drivers should be forced to have the lights flashing and the sign extended constantly, in order to warn the foolhardy and the slow of foot that they better get the hell out of the way or else get pepperonied.

That's drastic, you say? Yeah, um, okay. But let's face it, there's nothing flattering about being flattened.

Stay tuned...

I DON'T THINK I LIKE THEM APPLES

2009-04-29T11:14:00.005-04:00

I do the grocery shopping for 5 -- 5 and a half if you count the weiner dog. As such every Saturday morning I trek out to my local grocery barn and discover, on an almost weekly basis, why God shouldn't claim homo sapiens among his greater successes.

Lately there's been pressure for grocery stores to stop using plastic bags. The Loblaw company got on the bandwagon real early, charging a 5 cent environmental fee for each bag in its Toronto stores.

I'm in the suburbs so I was exempt from this dip into people's pockets -- until last weekend.

Now, I don't really mind paying 5 cents a bag. I'm cheap, but not to the point of making a damn fool of myself. Even if I use 20 bags it's still only a buck. What bothered me was two things, one small and one very spur of the moment.

The small is the fact that I didn't see it coming. I have a Visa card through Loblaws' President's Choice brand, so one would think they could have stuck a mailer in with my bill letting me know they were going green and, because of this, they were going to make me feel blue. Still, it's small potatoes, since the extra pennies were going on the card anyway. It's not like I was digging under the couch cushions to come up with the extra nickels.

The spur of the moment irk is in two parts. Not so long ago Loblaws switched their cash desks over to the dreaded "bag your own" system. I really hate this, because as my groceries get squished in a pile, nobody is bagging them. This is not a particularly good thing for those in a hurry. So as I go to end of the conveyor to bag my own, I hold up the person behind me who is waiting for an empty conveyor so they can feel their own frustration. So at this point I'm pretty gnarled up, and so is the cashier because people are getting antsy.

Now for the good part -- I get to the end and there's no bags because I have to cough up the dinero for them. The cashier says, "how many bags do you need?"

I gaze at my squished pile of groceries that's almost as tall as it is wide and respond, "how the hell am I supposed to know?"

'Tis a fair question. Turns out the answer is a puzzled look and an uncomfortable shrug.

I think I might have to revisit having my groceries delivered -- as long as they don't ask how many boxes I need.

Stay tuned...

ONE WTF

2009-03-28T14:32:00.005-04:00

I've been told to wake up, so here I am. Figured I might as well say something while the coffee's brewing.

Remember that 9/11 thing? Yeah, I know, stupid question. Who could possibly forget it, especially friends and family of all those lost souls.

Well, out of that horror was born a big hole in the ground. And because this is downtown Manhattan we're talkin' about, new buildings have to go up. This I have no problem with, especially since the hallowed space above the footprints of both World Trade Center towers will remain free and clear of suits and ties, instead to be filled to capacity with tributes to the fallen.

The centre piece of this development is to be the Freedom Tower, deliberately built to a height of 1776 feet to smite the bastards that brought the previous buildings down and, seemingly, the British that were defeated a couple of hundred years or so ago. I'm not even going to go all flukey on the last part, I just thought it was worth noting for its irrelevancy.

Anyway, now the folks who are building this monument to the middle finger have decided that the moniker Freedom Tower has to go, and that the building will now be known by its official address, which is One World Trade Center. For those keeping score, one of the late WTC towers also had this address, but even that's not the point of this rambling.

What I am going to throw stones at is the timing of this becoming common knowledge. Because at the same time that Freedom has been removed from the tower the first leasings have been signed by -- wait for it -- the Chinese.

I'm not going to bash the Chinese people because, frankly, I love their food -- artificial and North Americanized though it may be. I'm not even going to pick on the Chinese government who, in their myopic wisdom, have stricken the word Freedom from their version of Webster's.

I am going to blow some raspberries at the fools who decided on naming it the Freedom Tower in the first place, only to remove the name at the same time as they announce lease signings to a company from a country that doesn't know the meaning of the word "freedom."

Yeah, I know I said I wasn't going to slam the Chinese guvs, but what can I say, I lied.

It's a free country, after all.

Stay tuned...

NO COMMENT

2009-02-28T14:42:00.000-05:00

Who knew it would come to this?

My last post has lingered at the top of this blog for so long that a foul odor has started to drift out of my computer's casing. In that span of time, folks with no brains have decided that leaving spam comments is a good use of their time.

Believe me, life is too short to waste on my humble little page of bitterly displayed common sense.

To that end, I would like to say something to you intellectually challenged wastes of epidermis: I don't want to be in your blog directory, I don't want your forum poster program and I don't want to see you naked.

What I do want you to do is f*ck right off unless you actually have an interest in what I'm saying. If I wanted spam I'd go to the market and buy some luncheon meat.

If you're not reading my words and/or leaving a constructive comment, don't stop here -- just keep on going. As for challenging your grey matter, don't you dummies have better things to do with your time than spam a page that gets ten hits a day when things are going good?

Sheesh.

I must go now. It appears I have some comment moderation thingy to set up.

Stay tuned...

CALL ME CRAZY...

2009-02-02T09:17:00.005-05:00

Yes, folks -- the verdicts are in.

Three of the world's most notorious weather predictin' rats have declared that this Hell of a winter will stay frozen over for another six weeks.

For those with loaded shotguns, the vermin's names are Pennsylvania's Punxsutawney Phil, Ontario's Wiarton Willie and Nova Scotia's Shubenacadie Sam. Three goundhogs -- three shadows.

To which I cough "bullshit" thrice.

I mean, there's no way these miniature cavern dwellers could possibly see their shadows when I know for a fact that everybody's snowbanks are blocking out the sun. At least mine is. I looked up the snowbank on my front lawn this morning and saw a tiny little figure planting a flag on the top.

Sheesh.

Perhaps I shouldn't be so hard on the little buggers, though. Last winter was so bad it had me looking forward to this winter. Little did I know it would be worse.

I've shoveled so much snow this winter I could have buried Oprah at her heaviest.

My back is requesting collective bargaining, based primarily on better working conditions. It's walking out if it can't be allowed to shovel driveways in Orlando, instead.

And my shovel? It's down to just a friggin' shaft. I sold it to the guy who climbed the snowbank so he had a pole for the flag.

Sigh.

All I want is for this snow to melt. It has to -- my sanity is laying somewhere underneath it.

Stay tuned...

WILL WONDERS NEVER CEASE

2009-01-22T11:15:00.004-05:00

Two days into the new administration running things in the You Ess of Eh (we Canadians loaned 'em the last part) and I'm still agog at the wonder of it all. For instance:

* I wonder if Aretha Franklin's hat was approved by the Secret Service. It sure looked like it could stop a bullet.

* Chief Justice John Roberts first words to The Man were "are you ready to take the oath, Senator?" I wonder why Barack didn't answer, "are you sure you're ready to give it?"

* I wonder how old that benediction Reverend was?

* I wonder why Obama is being put on such a high perch. Any higher and he'd be playing cards with Jesus Christ. Which has me wondering if the Secret Service was told to keep an eye out for suspicious individuals wearing togas and carrying two pieces of wood, a box of nails and a hammer.

* I wonder why so many people can't spell the simplest words. One viewer commenting to CNN wrote, "loves the benediction...Rev. looks about 100...bless his sole...amen." Bless his SOLE? What's she saying? Bless his foot? Bless his fish? Neither is eternal, although, in both cases, the smell certainly can be.

* After listening to poet Elizabeth Alexander, I wonder why poetry is still popular. I mean, poetry is nothing but creative writing for people who suffer from a punctuation deficiency.

* If the new Prez lives up to the hype and truly succeeds (sorry, Mr. Limbaugh), I wonder which poor schmuck the Repubs will send out to get slaughtered in 2012.

* I wonder why they call it a mall? All I see is grass. I figure there ought to be a Gap next to the trees on the left and a food court next to the bushes on the right.

* Speaking of the Bushes (well, one of them, at least), I wonder if Georgie Boy will finally have the time to learn how to properly unpronounce nucular.

* Now that a kinder, gentler man is in charge, I wonder if the Guantanamo Gang will start being fed ice cream and cake instead of their genitals.

* That Itzhak Perlman plays a mean violin, but I wonder why CNN had to specify that he was a musician. Like somebody might get confused and think he's getting that noise out of a ping pong paddle or something?

* I wonder why truth, justice and the American way didn't end up in Obama's speech. By the way he spoke, and from people's responses, I was expecting to see an S on his chest.

* I wonder if now is as good a time as any to end this.

Stay tuned...

SUDDENLY, APPLE DOESN'T SEEM SO BAD

2009-01-15T10:09:00.002-05:00

Gwyneth Paltrow, consider yourself off the hook.

Remember the fuss a few years ago when the former almost Mrs. Pitt named her first child after a piece of fruit? Remember how a great many people uttered a collective WTF?

I mean, who would name their kid Apple? I thought it was ridiculous. I reconsidered briefly when I pondered the possibility that Paltrow's hubby, Coldplay singer Chris Martin, might have chosen the name to honour the Beatles record label. But then I thought, "nah, it's still a daft name for a kid."

Of course, no goofy Hollyweird offspring naming can compete with the wackjob parents from Easton, Pennsylvania who named their kid -- wait for it -- Adolph Hitler Campbell.

Because Mussolini was too hard to spell, perhaps?

The little tyke who's a fascist in name only came to prominence recently when a grocery store refused the parents' request to put the kid's name on a cake. And lest one think that the parents just have a warped sense of humour, their 2 year-old daughter is named JoyceLynn Aryan Nation Campbell. Sounds like your typical American family, don't it -- just out for a drive to the grocery store with a short stop at the local Klan meeting on the way home.

I'm even more befuddled by the parents response to the grocery store's refusal to make things extreme right.

Says dad Heath, "I think people need to take their heads out of the cloud they've been in and start focusing on the future and not on the past." I'll make you a deal bud. We'll take our heads out of the clouds if you take yours out of your ass.

And adds mom Deborah, "(Hitler) did this stuff, yeah, but that was in the past." Um, okay.

Apparently they think all is forgiven, and that they have been wronged, first by the grocery store, and second by the general public for overreacting. The icing on this cake is the dad demanding an apology.

Personally, I think we should oblige him. The store should own up to its insensitivity and write the man a letter of mea culpa and we overreactors should do the same-- on the condition that Campbell write about six million letters apologizing for the actions of his son's namesake.

Sounds extremely right to me.

Stay tuned...

THE 12 HATES OF CHRISTMAS

2008-12-26T15:19:00.003-05:00

Yes, there's lots to like about Christmas, but there's also a lot to hate about Christmas. Call me The Grinch if you must.

Read on:

* Some malls and radio stations start playing Christmas carols before the kids have even had a chance to put their Halloween costumes away. There ought to be a law against such aural torture.

* Nobody knows how to drive, except in December when nobody knows how to drive AND nobody knows how to park. Remember, assholes, it's one parking spot per car and first come first served.

* Mistletoe. I have no problem with the concept of stepping under it and stealing a kiss -- I just don't like the way the word sounds. Think about it, missile toe -- MISS-ILL-TOW -- to me it sounds like a synonym for "swift kick in the ass."

* The over-packaging of some products is annoying. I got an electric razor for Christmas, and all it took to open it was a pair of scissors coupled with the near-severing of a major artery.

* How come nobody mentions the bigotry surrounding Rudolph? After being tormented by all the other reindeer, Rudolph gets to lead Santa's sleigh, yet the other eight reindeer are still on the job. In the real world, the kind of harassment unleashed by all of the other reindeer would get them fired. If I was Santa, not only would I fire the buckers, I'd make venison out of 'em.

* Snow. Yeah, yeah, white christmas, yadda, yadda. I have a theory that every person who loves a white christmas has never spent two hours shovelling it. Of course, I reserve the right to retract this hate should I ever move into a condo with underground parking.

* Fruitcake. Good idea -- bad execution.

* All the best TV shows are pre-empted so we can watch the umpteenth airing of Frosty the Snowman. Yeah, so what -- he melted. I pray for an alternate ending where, instead of magically getting put back together and heading off to the North Pole, someone grabs a mop and soaks the bugger up, never to return. Put that in your corncob pipe and smoke it.

* The National Basketball Association plays on Christmas Day. Like players don't have families?

* I'm not religious, but the first syllable of Christmas is Christ. With all the retail hoopla nowadays the holiday should probably be renamed "Salesmas."

* Speaking of which, retail workers don't get a Christmas break, even though they deserve one more than anyone on the f*cking planet.

And last, but definitely not least:

* I loathe the ditty, "The 12 Days of Christmas." If there is a more annoying song on the planet (not including half of everything by Mariah Carey and Celine Dion, of course) I haven't heard it.

Stay tuned...

BY GEORGE, I THINK HE'S GOT IT

2008-12-20T07:56:00.002-05:00

'Tis been awhile, so a few thoughts for the few who actually check this place out:

* Kudos to George W. Bush for doing the right thing, not so much for throwing a bunch of money at the auto industry, but for attaching a whole bunch of strings. To think it only took the guy eight years to get something right. I salute the outgoing one by doffing my right shoe in his honour (I'm saving the left one for the new guy).

* A full plate of scorn for Ronnie Gettelfinger, head honcho of the United Autoworkers Union, for being part of the problem and not part of the solution. Yeah, we know you got a contract with the Big Three, but you need to do the responsible thing and accept a pay cut for your members. 'Cause let's face it, bub, if Georgie's strings get pulled back and the Big Three go down the sewer your gang is getting a 100 per cent pay cut whether they like it or not.

* Still speaking of Dubya, he's recently been the target of flying footwear. Which begs the question, if Bush is hit by a shoe that really smells, does that qualify as an assassination attempt?

* The top two available pitchers in Major League Baseball's free agent frenzy both signed big deals this week, which would be great except that both are going to be collecting their pay from the Bank of Steinbrenner. It goes to say that I hate the Yankees for two very good reasons: 1) their penchant for spending way more than the other guys is ruining the game -- they might as well be playing against little league teams with the playing field so askew; and 2) they're the Yankees -- if you don't love 'em you have to hate 'em (it should say so in the official rules of baseball).

* Scarlett Johansson is putting a used Kleenex up for sale, with the proceeds going to her favourite charity. Which makes her just another snotty Hollywood star -- but with a heart of gold.

* Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, etc. etc.

Stay tuned...

WOE, CANADA

2008-12-04T10:40:00.002-05:00

I don't generally like talking politics. It's a dry subject for the most part, although I must admit I feel great glee when throwing darts at pompous posers with nothing better to do than waste other people's money for their own betterment.

Right now, Canada's federal government is one big bullseye. Time to take aim.

To summarize for those unfamiliar (AKA UnCanadians, for the most part), we Canuckleheads elected a new-old government about six weeks ago. In our system, the country is divided up into ridings, with each riding sending an elected member to sit in Ottawa's House of Commons so he/she can represent his/her constituents (AKA The People).

After the election, the Conservative Party won the most seats, but still had less than 50 per cent of the seats (AKA A Minority, AAKA What They Already Had Before The Election). This mean't (and still means) that the ruling Conservatives had to butter enough opposition bread to get legislation passed (AKA Sucking Up To The Enemy).

Recently, however, the Conservatives presented a platform to parliament that offended the opposition (AKA Libs, NDPeons and BlocHeads) enough for them to consider ganging together and taking over (AKA Skirting The Electorate).

And this is what pisses me off.

Although I generally vote Conservative, I have no love for Prime Minister Stephen Harper, nor his arrogant minions. But they were elected to govern, as per the rules of the game (AKA The Constitution). And though these rules do allow for a coalition to form and take over (AKA A Loophole), it's still wrong, especially when one considers the fact that one of the members of this coalition (AKA The Bloc Quebecois) is a party formed for the sole purpose of busting their province out of this most horrible Canadian gulag (AKA Goin' Their Own Way).

And while it's true that Canadians are election weary (AKA All Polled Out), it's the only honourable solution to this mess. The Prime Minister should be selected by the people of Canada (AKA The Reason These F*ckers Even Have A Job), not by a bunch of board room schemers plotting some kind of half-assed coup.

So I say, to the jackass in power and the shitheads who are trying to wrest it away, put it to Canadians for a vote. Standing up for Canada doesn't necessarily mean losing your seat.

Stay tuned...

YOU KNOW YOU HAVE TOO MANY DVD'S WHEN...

2008-11-28T13:53:00.007-05:00

So I goes to the mailbox to pick up my newly arrived copy of Hawaii Five-O Season Five, courtesy of the occasionally sane folks at Amazon.ca. And I'm lookin' at this terrifically enticing set and I thinks to myself -- did I even buy Season Four? I mean, I think I did. But where is it? It's not under the growing pile of dirty socks and other assorted smelly garments in the corner; it's not under the desk; heck, it's not even with the other gazillion DVDs I've amassed.

So where is it? Like I said about seven seconds ago, I'm pretty sure I bought it (it came out in June). But now, I'm starting to question my sanity.

I mean, more than usual, you know?

Stay tuned...

DON'T YOU HATE WHEN THAT HAPPENS?

2008-11-25T09:16:00.014-05:00

This is a screencap from Sunday's brief return of Jack Bauer in 24: Redemption. In this TV movie plus apology slash thank you (for their patience) to fans for the strike-induced delay to season 7, the exiled former Counter Terrorist Unit operative does his thing so a bunch of African kids don't end up as unwitting soldiers in some mad man's conquest for power.

After viewing the film, I have but one question: Will Jack save all the children in his care, or will he abandon them so he can save the production company's other cameraman (circled) instead? Only the film's editor knows for sure.

EDIT: The high and mighties at FOX seem to have fixed this blooper for the extended edition DVD released today, which is all the more odd. I figure the suits either knew about it in advance, but left it in the broadcast version anyway. Or they recalled the discs shipped to stores and replaced them with fixed versions -- all in one day. Option three would be Jack shooting the cameraman and burying his body in the woods while we weren't looking.

Stay tuned...

ROUNDING TURD AND HEADING FOR HOME

2008-11-21T16:23:00.004-05:00

Itttt'sssss... sssooooo... ccccooolllldddd...

Ugh. Sorry, about that. Keyboard got stuck.

Anyway, I'm not here today to write about the onset of winter a month early. Although, I guess if you're gonna start selling Christmas decorations before the kids are done their trick or treating, then all's fair in love and freezing your kiester.

No, today I'm spouting off about the love of one's animal and pavement care.

Whu-what, you say? Well, let me go back to the beginning.

I have to go get the kidlets from school every day at about quarter after three. It's a brisk walk, about 500 feet around a corner, through a park and across the school parking lot. Yeah, life's tough for my wee-uns.

Well.

Today, as I'm trodding along the educational asphalt, I come across this heaping pile of steaming dog shit. Poor (not so) little thing, all alone in the middle of an empty parking lot just waiting to experience the pancake effect at the hands of a set of Michelins.

Which got me thinking -- wouldn't Goodyear make for a better effect? No, wait -- that's not right.

Uh (flips through misaligned thoughts stored in dusty attic), what I really mean't was who was the pet owner walking their clydesdale through a school parking lot in the middle of a deep freeze, and why were they not courteous enough to bring an industrial size wheelbarrow with them for scoopage purposes?

I mean, this was just plain rude. Or it might have been a speed bump.

Sometimes when your brain is frozen it's just so hard to tell.

Stay tuned...

YOU'RE DEAD, JIM

2008-11-15T14:16:00.005-05:00

(Possible spoilerage ahead)

Sometimes you just have to bite the bullet and admit your faults. And, boy, is this one a doozy.

See, I have an addiction to television shows. This is nothing new to those who know me, whether face to face or through their computer monitors.

But not many know that I am a big fan of -- DEEP BREATH -- Ghost Whisperer.

There -- I said it. I'm out of the mushy, romantic what the hell else is there to watch Friday night closet.

And I do enjoy the romance of the show. It's one of my wife's favourites, and lest you think she got me hooked on it, you'd be wrong. I was the one who went all Jennifer Love Hewitt on her.

It's not a perfect show. A lot of episodes are hokey slash corny slash just plain dumb. The whole this life versus the afterlife is done in the most simplistic manner, and one wonders just how a woman fresh out of college could scratch out the bucks to open a successful antique shop in a town barely bigger than my back yard.

That's when you remind yourself that it's just a damn TV show.

But while there are parts that are weak, the show has some strengths that make it totally endearing and, ironically, more down to earth than most of its peers.

The relationship between J Love's Melinda Gordon and her husband Jim (underplayed to perfection by David Conrad) is one that all couple's should aspire to. It might seem a little too perfect. They never argue -- hell, they rarely disagree. But the chemistry between these two actors is undeniably intense. These two really take their vows seriously except, apparently, the part about 'til death do us part.

You see, last week the show put a bullet into Jim, putting an end to his earthly existence. Now Jim won't leave and, if the end of this week's episode Jim's earthbound spirit dove into the dying body of Jericho's Kenneth Mitchell.

Question time: what the hell are the producers of this show thinking?

They've stated that David Conrad is not leaving the show, so killing him is hardly necessary. They claim that this will be wonderful for the show, but they obviously haven't been reading the feedback of their fans. Go to any entertainment website that recaps the show, and you'll see pain and anger from the show's fans. Many are adamant that if this scenario doesn't end with Jim in the shower (a la Patrick Duffy) they're going to spend Friday night at 8pm following other pursuits.

And I can't say I blame them.

So, a small message to the producers: it wasn't broke and you shouldn't have tried to fix it. Right now you're all high in the sky over the possibilities you've created, but you forgot to look down. Take a look gang -- all you'll see are waterskies and the world's biggest dorsal fin.

Fix what you've done or, when the ratings tank, CBS is going to feed you to that shark.

Stay tuned...

SEE, THE APES REALLY WERE MORE EVOLVED

2008-11-10T11:23:00.010-05:00

I like online shopping. I like Amazon dot com.

But every now and then something shows up on their website that makes me wonder if its being run by monkeys or something.

Case in point, the new release of the 40th Anniversary Blu-ray box set of the Planet of the Apes films. Amazon likes to try to sway people into buying more stuff, so they say things like "customers who bought X also bought Y."

In this case, I wonder Y any customer would be stupid enough to package it with X. Take a look and you'll see what I mean:

Sheesh! Do they honestly expect us to believe that someone would be dumb enough to buy a movie in a box set and then pick up the same flick separately? If there are actually human beings dumb enough to buy this combo, then maybe Amazon really is run by monkeys, in which case Apes author Pierre Boulle was truly a man ahead of his time.

Stay tuned...

BLACK MAN DUE, BARACK CAN DO

2008-11-07T15:26:00.006-05:00

Boy, wasn't that a party -- I've never seen so many adults bawlin' their eyes out in my life.

But back to reality, people.

Yes, Barack Obama is the first black man to become President of the U S of A. Based on his parentage, he's also the 44th white President, if you want to get technical. Funny how that rarely gets mentioned.

Which begs the question: why is a person with one black parent and one white parent automatically deemed to be black? Is it an alphabetical thing? I mean, it always was when we were talking about televisions. C'mon, raise your hands if you've ever owned a white and black boob tube.

No takers, huh?

Well, there you go then. Okay, Barack backers (or Barackers, for short) -- you win -- black it is.

Like it or not, he'll still be living in a White House, though.

Of course, race is something that shouldn't play a part in this equation but, for better or worse it does, even though Obama seems to have been elected by most on his words and principles, not his skin colour.

Sure, many probably voted because of his skin tint, but I'm sure the same could be said for the many who liked John McCain because he's a fair guy -- as in fair skinned, not fair and balanced.

But back to President-elect Obama. You've got your work cut out for you, man.

Let's face it, no Commander-in-Chief has screwed up America quite like Bush the Second, what with towers falling, debt rising, swift boating, war mongering, brain melting and and nucular pronunciating, to name his high points.

I'm sure the state of Texas will welcome Bushie back with open arms, though, which just goes to show what too much sunshine will do to some people.

Contrast the outgoing doof to Obama, who somehow seems like the anti-Bush. Obama's smart, articulate and moderately, uh, moderate. In other words, the exact kind of person needed to rescue America from itself.

If Obama succeeds in positively changing the way America is perceived by many nations over yonder, then it won't matter one iota where he fails.

He can screw up the economy or get caught in a scandal and it'll be water off his back, if he can just make the United States a likable nation again.

Yup, it definitely screams no-win situation. But if anyone can do it, Barack Obama can. After all, remember -- he's Afri-CAN Ameri-CAN.

Stay tuned...

BEYONCÉ MIGHT BE ON TO SOMETHING

2008-11-02T11:12:00.003-05:00

There are many things that make a person a lousy driver.

Some are the obvious: speeders, tailgaters, lane drifters, blind spot ignorers, multi-taskers (put down that blackberry donut) and passing lane slowpokes, to name but a few.

Today, I'm pickin' bones with people that don't know how to turn left.

Yeah, it's such a simple thing, but I'm amazed at the number of people who are clueless when they plant themselves in the left turn lane. You see, when turning left the cardinal rule is to get your car as far to the left, within the turn lane, as possible.

This has but one notable advantage, but only if everybody plays by said rule: it allows a driver the ability to see oncoming traffic past the car turning left opposite them.

Why is this so important?

Well it helps cut down on idiots that turn left blindly and end up as statistics. But more importantly (to an impatient guy like me, anyway) it gets more cars through the intersection at short lights, so the poor schmuck at the back of it all (AKA, moi again) doesn't have to sit through three lights.

(Brief pause for grumbling, cursing and random expletives)

Yesterday I encountered more than a couple of idiots as I sat through my third straight light in the same left turn lane, and judging by the few cars that made it through the first two lights, there were idiots aplenty.

This I do not understand. It's such a basic driving principle -- to be able to see!!! Is it too much to ask drivers to use that three pound bookend attached to the top of their neck while they're behind the wheel?

Apparently, it is. But I'm going to ask anyway -- and I'm even going to ask nicely.

So... If you're one of the drivers I'm going nuts over, please do everyone a favour: the next time you're out driving and about to enter the left turn lane, get over to the left as much as possible. You might be amazed at how easy a left turn can be.

That, and the drivers around you can keep their fingers holstered.

Stay tuned...

KEEP ME UP FOR THE BALLGAME...

2008-10-26T07:25:00.005-04:00

In the grand game of baseball, you can't control the weather.

During the season, officials wait out the rain until they realize the game won't be completed by a reasonable time, then they call it and the game gets rescheduled.

Of course, this doesn't happen in the playoffs, last night's third game of the World Series being a perfect example.

The weather wasn't co-operating in Philadelphia, but Team Selig was determined to get the game in, even if it didn't start until after 10pm and didn't end until almost 2am.

And baseball marketers keep wondering why they're losing the younger generation?

Sure, it's tough playing baseball in October in northern climes, especially since autumn is as extinct as the dodo bird. Summer runs to early October, immediately followed by a winter that lasts almost six months. Then there's a quick burst of spring followed by summer again, which is either painfully dry or constantly wet.

Never mind the economy, I'd like to see Obama or McCain fix the weather.

I'm guessin' that this is why the baseball honchos see such a need to get a game in at all costs. Nothing else makes any sense.

But starting a game as late as they did last night cheats a lot of fans, especially parents who bought tickets but had to get the wee'uns home at a decent hour. Sure, it's not a school night, but I can't imagine many young fans staying at the park for the duration. Nor do I imagine many kidlets staying in front of the tube that late.

I don't know whose call it was to have the game played, but this kind of thing seems to be Major League Baseball Commissioner Bud Selig's specialty, and if so I have only three more words to say:

BUD, YOU SUCK!

Stay tuned...

LONG LIVE THE BAY HARBOR BUTCHER!

2008-10-22T09:24:00.004-04:00

Yeah, I know -- that sounds a little macabre.

And it should, 'cause it is.

The word came down yesterday that one of my favourite TV shows (of all time, I might add) is getting a little bit of security. That's right folks, the world's most popular serial killer gets to slice and dice for another two years. Naturally, I'm speaking of Dexter, the show centred on the extremely demented (but likable) Dexter Morgan, the best blood spatter analyst slash vigilante cut-up in all of Miami.

Now I'm sure a lot of people aren't all that familiar with this program, which airs on Showtime in the States and on (some channel I don't watch because I work nights and download all my shows) in Canada. But it is, in two words, simply terrific. It can also be unbelievably funny.

Michael C. Hall, late (so to speak) of Six Feet Under (another highly rated cable show), gives a performance in the title role that's so cool you'll want to invite him over to Christmas dinner to meet the family (and, if he's in the mood, to carve the turkey).

Dexter is currently about a third of the way through season three (the title of this piece alludes to events that occurred in season two), but it's not too late to get addicted to this masterpiece. Season one and two are out on DVD (Digital Veryshiny Disc), with the first season about to make its debut on the muchly hallowed but still way overpriced Bluray Hi-Def format.

I says go get it. This show'll kill ya.

Stay tuned...

PALIN AND PALIN'

2008-10-19T14:02:00.012-04:00

Is there an American left that takes Sarah Palin seriously?

Well, there's John McCain and... pretty much nobody else. Hell, after last night's Saturday Night Live, it's pretty obvious that not even Sarah Palin takes Sarah Palin seriously.

The woman has been lampooned four times now on NBC's venerable sketch show, but last night's Sarah for Tina press conference switcheroo pretty much took the cake. And odd as it may seem, it might have saved Palin's Electoral College bacon.

I mean, it probably didn't, but stranger things have happened.

And speaking of strange, how must the Tampa Bay Non-Devil Rays be feeling right about now? Up 3 games to 1 with a 7-0 lead and seven outs to go at Fenway, and POOF! Just like that they start feeling like the '86 Red Sox getting the World Series rug pulled out from under them by Mookie, Ray and the rest of the Metzkies. I wouldn't say the Rays been Bucknerized, but their collars must be feeling a little tight now that the BoSox have stretched things to a seventh game at the Trop.

Of course, the current Red Sox have a little bit of experience with big comebacks, although this one is paling in comparison to their slaying of the Yankees in 2004. They only have to win three in a row this time.

Yep, like things needed to be any hotter in Tampa.

Stay tuned...

WISHING FOR ELECT-ILE DYSFUNCTION

2008-10-16T13:30:00.006-04:00

I'm sure I'm not the only poor sap who's been debated to death.

Sigh.

Last night was the third and final debate between the Black Knight and Bush the Second the Second. And I have to confess, I didn't watch a minute of it. Nor did I watch the other two Presidential debates. And, lest I forget, I also completely ignored the quarrel session between Honest Joe and the Four-Eyed Maverick.

So why am I debated out?

It's because my TV viewing is collateral damage to these wars of words. Every time they hold one of these stinkin' things, one of my favourite shows hits the sidelines, waiting patiently for another chance at wowing its viewers. Last night's victim, from my couch, was Criminal Minds.

It doesn't really matter who gets elected, now does it? It's not like anything said in one of these debates is going to change a damn thing.

If you get Obama, you get a man who will probably go soft on everything and (further) ruin the economy. If you get McCain, you get a man who will probably push the world closer to World War III and (further) ruin the economy.

Talk about your no-win scenarios. And with all these crises that are likely to be created, there's bound to be more Presidential speeches -- which means even more interruptions to my TV schedule.

This makes me not so happy.

I'm thinking it might be time to bring back The West Wing. At least Martin Sheen was a President worth watching.

Stay tuned...