Various Lies

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Gotta go find my kid

One of my favourite  TV shows of this year is Sons of Anarchy - I guess the the show actually started a couple of years ago; season four starts in a couple of weeks. I found it on Netflix, and with the urging of some friends started watching. I was hooked almost instantly, and was furious when I got to the end of season2 and found that netflix wasn't showing season 3.

Then a buddy pointed me at iTunes and I bought it! Alas, each episode is about 750MB and I was using my Android cellphone as a portable wifi hotspot so it took about 21 hours to download each episode.

So I called AT&T and dropped a wad of cash on their Uverse dealio so I could get fast wireless in my house and thus download the whole season in minutes instead of weeks.Not cheap, but worth the money.

For the uninitiated the show follows the trials and tribulations of a rather nasty "Hell's Angel" motorcycle club in California. These guys are portrayed as the "good guys" because they only deal in guns, they don't like the drug scene (the irony being that they sell the guns to their rival clubs who are then using them to protect their drug turf...). They work "with" the corrupt sheriff of their little town to keep the pace locked in a kind of 70s time warp. The baddies are the rival gangs, as well as the big corporations who are trying to muscle in on the town of Charming, as well as the "Feds" - the corrupt and avaricious DEA & ATF agents who are trying to shut down the gangs.

The club is known as "Samcro" - Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club, Redwood Original" - they are the original charter, founded by 9 disillusioned young men looking for a way to fight back against a society they had learned to hate.

I don't know why, the excellent writing and casting I assume, but this show resonates with me and tugs at the angry young man I used to be. I wear my suit and tie, and do my science now, but I used to be a very different person. But that's another story for another day.

(screencap from here)

The leading man is the dreamer (and utterly dreamy) Jax Teller, club scion, son of the first president.  In the first episode of the show we see Jax's estranged partner give birth to his son and the subsequent weight of responsibility this brings to this formerly free-spirited young man. That too resonates deeply within me. Needless-to-say the child is a key plot device and most of season 3 is spent in the hunt for him after he's been kidnapped by a rogue IRA member. One issue with this whole story arc really struck me though. At every turn in the plot Jax keeps saying, "I gotta go find my kid." And after about the 50th time it became a real annoyance to me and jarred the script. The "Kid" had a name, and a gender - he was a son. But more important than the lazy writing was Jax, or rather the actor Charlie Hunham's lack of authenticity (to my eyes). The child had become too obviously part of the story, "I gotta go find my bike."

This morning my partner turned to me and asked about daycare services at my institution. I know we have them and I know they're awesome and thus I know they're usually full. So, I was duly told to call and find out, and I dutifully did so.

"Hello, campus childcare, this is Mary, how can I help you?"
"I'm inquiring about your services, uh, childcare?"
"Yes, we have a full daycare center here. Is that what you mean?"
"Yeah. I need to know about daycare for my kid."

My kid...did I say 'kid' because I don't know gender yet, or because this early on I feel ridiculous saying child? Or was it, as I suspect, because kid is a distance term - he or she isn't real yet. Just a plot device. I need to pay more attention to the script I think.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Americans In Line LOL fail

This one is a true classic. Well done AOL, screencap taken at 1953 on 08/11/11

 I can haz programmer who gets basic web design?

No...HAHAHAHALOLz1111!!ELEVENTY....POWERS...of FAIL..... activate!

Bravo, AOL, bravo...or Netscape...or, no, wait, aren't you the Huffington (com)Post now? I lose track of the trail of fail, and then am reminded of why I totes trust you with my spam account. And only my spam account.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

hey kiddo

Well, here we are then. I guess you really are real. It's not just your mum making things up to get extra food and sleep, and to uh miss her period, and make me stop smoking finally...and...well, anyway...



I don't know what to say because I have too much to say. Too many thoughts. I wonder if you'll be like me and think too much sometimes. I have a million wonders about you and I can't wait to figure them out.

Sometimes I think I'm going to be right (actually, most of the time for your first decade and half). Sometimes I'm almost definitely going to be wrong (but I'll never admit it, so here is lesson one in self-control). Most of the time though I think we'll figure that out as we go. I can't wait.

It's the oddest thing, I already love you and you're just a kumquat.

But I saw your heart beating inside your chest. I heard your heart beat through ultrasound. You're alive, you're real.

You were our embryo, and now you're our foetus. You will be my baby, and you'll always be my child.

Here we go kid. Wish us luck.