I realize that it has been several days since my last entry, but I am currently wallowing in an inconceivable form of misery known as the boat show. We generally have to leave the hotel before 8 in the morning in order to prepare our displays before the show starts, and the day does not end until 8 at night. After that, we still have to eat dinner, conduct any business meetings that became necessary as a result of the day’s activities, and get back to the hotel in order to get a few hours of sleep before starting the process anew.

Yes, it is as fun as it sounds – which is to say it is akin to having your toe nails removed with very coarse sandpaper and then getting thrown into a pit full of lions who have had their teeth removed but retain the full extent of their jaw strength. The outcome is eventually the same as an encounter with normal lions, but the process is somewhat drawn out and ridiculous.

I’ve also had a healthy dose of homework to keep up with during my time in Miami (it’s I Maim if you say it backwards, and that’s precisely what this town does to your soul), so I’ve had little energy for writing. I promise to get back into the swing of things upon my return, so please stay tuned.

I don’t like Miami. For those of you who have read this blog in the past, you probably know that already. I have to go there several times a year on business, and it always fails to impress. I can see why some people are really drawn to the city, and why they so badly crave a trip to this vacation hotspot. Beaches, sunshine and bikinis with a material deficiency can be fairly alluring. If a person were to fly directly into South Beach and venture no farther than the sandy paradise that awaits the sunscreen-lathered tourist, it might seem like just that – a paradise.

The problem is, I never get to see that side of the city. The side I get to see is similar to the side of a dog you wouldn’t want to touch right after he comes back in from a trip to the yard. Actually, those of you without serious mental disorders probably wouldn’t want to touch that side ever.

Ever…

No, the part of the city I always get to see consists primarily of cement and overcrowding. Parts of the city are, not unlike other large cities, unimaginably dirty and run-down. Sure, it has its well-polished areas filled with high-end retail shops and restaurants that require a current financial statement for entry, but what tourist trap can’t boast such offerings? There are beautiful beaches all over this country, many of which can be accessed without first having to drive through a concrete torture chamber. Destin Florida, for example, is a beautiful area with plenty of upscale shopping, fine dining and sunshine. The human-to-concrete ratio is acceptably low and you don’t get the feeling that someone is going to jump out from behind a well-groomed palm tree and take all your money.

Anyway, I decided to rant about Miami today because it’s once again time for me to visit the capital of tropical fail. The Miami International Boat Show starts this Thursday, and virtually everyone in the boating industry is getting ready to storm the gates. Miami is overcrowded to start with, so the area surrounding the convention center can closely resemble an anthill during an event like the boat show. Not a peaceful, undamaged anthill full of unseen ants, but an anthill that just got clobbered by a lawnmower.

I of course mean no offence to those who reside in or wish to reside in the city of Miami. I simply do not like overcrowded cities, whether they’re located in a tropical “paradise”, nestled between a couple of mountains or protruding like a glowing pimple from the desert. Neither do I care much for an overabundance of isolation these days. Somewhere in-between is usually where I like to find myself.

Short entry today. I have a lot to do before hitting the road tomorrow, and as always, not enough time in which to get it all done.

Anyone who knows me is probably aware that I’m no fan of Obama. I am a fiscal conservative, I believe in very limited government and the new President’s idea of foreign policy makes my brain catch on fire. We also disagree on most social issues, but I suppose that can be reserved for another discussion. In short, I am not one of those drooling fanboys who gets a thrill in his leg every time Obama makes one of his rockstar speaches. He gets no free pass from me for the same reason no other politician receives a free pass. It’s simply a bad idea. People should save their blind obsessions for gyrating pop stars and wealthy ex-boyfriends.

Having said that, President Obama did surprise me today. As with any political move, I’m sure there are details I don’t know about that would quickly make this look like a bad idea, but based on what I know so far, it seems to be a good thing.

As everyone knows, a number of financial institutions received bailout packages from Congress last year. Many of these packages reached into the billions, turning Uncle Sam into the biggest sugar daddy to ever exist.

The truly sickening part was that these bailout packages were offered with little or no oversight, so the money was often spent in ways that should enrage the voting public. That was our money they spent, and they often spent it in ways that would get people shot back when shooting was cool. Many of these financial institutions paid their CEO’s millions of dollars in bonuses and salaries following the bailout, essentially rewarding them for failure. Rewarding an individual for poor results is not exactly in keeping with the tenets of capitalism, and it most certainly is not justifiable when the funds used in those massive compensations come from the public coffers.

This brings us to the part where Obama made me smile for once. Today he announced that he is implementing a new condition for any financial institution accepting bailout money. That financial institution may not offer its CEO a salary or bonuses with a combined sum exceeding $500,000, which represents a severe decrease in the compensation that many such figureheads have come to expect for driving a company into the dirt.

Normally, I would not agree with the federal government dictating salaries for a private company. The idea itself would be preposterous in most situations. However, once a financial institution has accepted federal funding on such a monumental scale, it is no longer simply a private company. It is owned in part by the taxpayers, and those taxpayers should be able to dictate how their money is spent – at least to a certain degree. At the very least, the taxpayers deserve to know that some form of oversight is being implemented to ensure that we as a country have not subsidized more failure.

I could get into the government’s role in landing these financial institutions in their current hell, but that too is best reserved for a later discussion. So thank you, President Obama, for applying a little logic to this otherwise rediculous venture. Even if we never agree on anything again, I can always point back to this day and say, “Yeah, I agreed with him once before everything went to hell. Now get out of my cave so I can get some sleep.”

When you read the subject of this week’s post, you probably assume I’m talking about myself. I am alluring in that “Oh God what is that thing!?” sort of way, but I’m actually talking about a puppy this time. And not just any puppy, but the insanely cute Miniature Schnauzer puppy that now shares a home with us. My wife went with me on a business trip to Destin, Florida this weekend (can’t imagine why she’d want to accompany me to that place), and we decided while there that it was time for our son to get a puppy. No, I have no idea why we waited until we were out of town on business to make such a decision.

We had been contemplating this for a while, and a trip to a boutique pet supply store near our hotel sealed the deal for us. The owner had her Miniature Schnauzer in the store with her that day, and we fell in love. The dog was cute, friendly, spunky and just all-around enjoyable. Later, back in our hotel room, the research began. No, “research” is not a codeword for anything naughty. I actually mean research. Anyway, when the wife and I get our minds set on something and begin the research phase, it’s the sort of research that is usually the domain of those with PhD’s and federal grants. We almost crashed the interwebz in the process, and learned everything there is to know about Miniature Schnauzers. The good, the bad and the cute.

Research lead to discussion, discussion lead to a decision, and a decision lead to a search for a good breeder in the area. The breeder selection actually lead to its own research, and we once again bogged down the interwebz with our undying thirst for knowledge. Yeah, I know. That’s a little dramatic. We just wanted information, so we looked for it and found it on the internet. But that doesn’t sound as exciting.

Hi, I'm Buddy. Yes, I know... I'm cute.

The breeder we finally selected was located a little over an hour away, so my wife drove out to look at the puppies while I worked at the boat show (that’s the real reason we were in Destin). While talking to some clients at the show, I received the picture to the left on my Blackberry. The wife had found love. The furry kind with a wet nose and an appetite for chew toys. Yes, that does indeed describe me pretty well whenever I have a cold and haven’t shaved, but I’m referring to the pup this time.

Needless to say, no one with a heart could say no to that face. He was cute, he was healthy, and he had a great personality. He was ours. My wife filled out the paperwork, gave them our money, and jumped back in the car to carry this cute little puppy to his new life with the Brown family. His name is Buddy, because he’s going to be my son’s buddy and it’s easy to say.

Now that we’ve spent a few days with this bundle of yipping cuteness, I consider us lucky. He goes to the bathroom outside, he hasn’t destroyed anything, and he sleeps at the foot of the bed rather than on my face. My son took to him pretty quickly as well, and they spent a little while chasing each other around the house last night. We still have to teach my son the meaing of the word “gentle,” but that will come with a little coaching. He’s only 17 months old, so he only knows two gears: asleep and wide-damn-open. I guess that’s something he and Buddy have in common. Say a prayer for the fragile stuff in our house if you have a moment.

I get the history of the moment. This country has a few skeletons in its closet in terms of human rights, civil rights and moral authority, as does every country to ever exist. Whether or not old persecutions and glass ceilings still exist is another subject entirely, but it’s clear that not everyone received a fair shake in this country’s past. Such arguments become more or less moot, however, now that we have elected our first black President. It is a moment that a lot of people have been waiting for, and it has a massive impact on the future of this country in terms of expectations and opportunities. The importance of this moment in our history runs deep.

That being said, watching a reporter gush over Obama like a school girl at a New Kids on the Block concert makes one hastily look for a bucket or pan, especially considering the fact that said journalist is supposed to be an objective news source upon whom this country depends for clear and concise information. During President Obama’s campaign, he was given more free rides than Hugh Hephner. The moment a scandal surfaced, it was held under the water and drowned by those gushing fanboys. One of them, whose name rhymes with Chris Matthews, went as far as stating that he “got a thrill in his leg” while listening to Obama’s speech.

A thrill in his leg…

I’m not even going to go there. It’s simply too easy.

It is never safe for a political figure, least of all the most powerful political figure in the world, to be so admired that he or she is held beyond scrutiny. Giving free rides can be dangerous. Ever seen one of those Hitchhiker movies? Yeah, stupid idea.

I have no problem with the fact that journalists are excited about this historic event and are cashing in on the fact that most of the country agrees with them. But it is indeed a sad day when one of this country’s oldest institutions (ok, prostitution is older, but they’re closely related anyway), loses the one element that validates its existence: objectivity. Mainstream media’s sprint toward the far left over the last several years has created a myopic institution that focuses more on a specific ideal or agenda than a commitment to factual reporting.

If it’s not news, it’s entertainment – and I think we already have plenty of entertainment. Thanks anyway.

We’ll see how long this love affair lasts, though. Obama had to placate the left with rhetoric in order to get elected. Now that he’s in office and has been roughed up with the reality bat, people are going to see that he can’t actually deliver on a number of the commitments that landed him in the oval office. No president ever succeeds in fully realizing the promises made on the campaign trail, and some of Obama’s loftier words will make a big splash when they hit the toilet.

Once the masses learn that they are not, in fact, getting fist-fulls of handouts from their beloved messiah, the thrill in the country’s collective leg will transform into a dull ache. When people see that Obama’s foreign policy and anti-terror strategy eventually has to mirror Bush’s approach due to the binding chains of reality, that dull ache will turn into something that requires a tourniquet.

Obama can certainly say he kept one campaign promise, though. Guantanamo Bay is now having a going out of business sale. It seems that no one is buying, however, so I suppose we’ll have a surplus of terrorists with an incarceration deficiency. The world cried for us to do away with that prison, yet when we finally bent to their will, none of those highly vocal critics volunteered to take responsibility for the prisoners. Not even their own countries.

Just for the record, it’s “look before you leap.” Not the other way around. We’ll cover that in the remedial session.

The wife and I went on a date last night. We don’t get a chance to do that often enough, but we try to set aside the occasional evening for some much-needed R&R. It’s a sanity thing. We started the date with big plans that involved dinner, the book store and a movie. Half way through dinner, however, our fatigue pimp-slapped our plans. The book store and movie idea quickly melted into a trip back home to sit down for some television.

Not just any television, but the news. We’re both news junkies, which is probably another testament to our advancing age. Those of you who already know that my “advancing age” amounts to a big, whopping 34 are already laughing. But you know as well as I do that you can get old as early as you please.

I guess it’s not so much that we’re old, but just tired most of the time. She chases kids around at school, I spend a majority of the day in a stressed-out frenzy, and then we have a 16-month old freight train that likes to run. A lot. Add a heaping dose of homework and house chores to that pot of stew and you have yourself a couple of worn-out people.

The thing is, we didn’t feel at all like we were settling or being defeated by taking our date back to the house. She and I both love our home, both cherish the quiet solitude of our own living room, and were both very pleased about the idea of not staying out late. She and I both have a bit of recluse in us as well, so a quiet living room generally sounds more appealing to us than a crowded theater or mall anyway. That sort of quiet evening is what makes us happy, so I guess it’s ok to act a little “old.”

The other night, I saw something awesome, and that something was Appleseed: Ex Machina. I loved the first one, and had been chomping at the bit to see this new addition to the anime universe. New is a relative term, of course. It was released in the United States in March of 2008, so it’s not that new. It was new to me, though, and I don’t know why I waited so long to watch it.

Guns rock. Period.

It’s almost odd that I liked this film as much as I did. It was directed by John Woo, and I have grown very tired of his style in live-action movies. That whole slo-mo fight sequence concept with people flipping through the air like acrobatic demi-gods who have been innoculated against gravity was awesome at one time. But that “one time” was quite some time ago.

Nonetheless, I seriously loved this movie. The story was pretty good, the art was absolutely amazing, and the fight scenes made me want to start collecting tactical weapons and sign up for a martial arts class. But since I would probably look a lot like Napoleon Dynamite working on his “sweet nunchuck skills”, I decided against the martial arts class. The tactical weapon arsenal is still under consideration, though.

As a general rule, I’m not what you would call a big fan of anime. The Japanese style of storytelling doesn’t usually jive with my brain, so I really have a hard time getting into it in most cases. Once in a while, however, something with a hybrid east/west style comes along – such as Appleseed – and I find myself in awe. There are probably more animated films out there that were cut from this same cloth, and I very much need to find them.

There are some things that just work in terms of cinematic imagery. If you want to creep me out, show me a large, angry robot that is hell-bent on killing people. If you’re fresh out of those, show me someone with a mild demon-possession problem who’s walking around on all fours with his or her body twisted  in unnatural ways. Either of those will a) keep me watching and b) lead to fingernail marks in the armrest.

I’m not sure why these two images strike such a chord with me. Maybe in a past life I was an android priest who performed exorcisms on sentient robots that had been dabbling a little too much in the voodoo. Or maybe there’s some instinctual reason why I and so many other people find these images profoundly disturbing, yet somehow very satisfying and mesmerizing in a “train wreck” sort of way.

One of the most anticipated installments in the Giant Freaking Robot genre is, of course, Terminator Salvation. Christian Bale stars as John Connor, which is promising in itself. Bale has proved to be one hell of an actor on various occasions. The other promising little fact about this movie is that it’s full of humanoid robots with a taste for blood and even promises a few of our beloved Giant Freaking Robots to boot. And yes, it would seem that they’re all angry.

All ur base r belong to us.

The Terminator franchise has been a mixture of excellence and mild disappointment, but I have hopes for this new installment. If nothing else, we’ll get to see some very big, very angry robots chase people around and bust things up on a Biblical scale. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.

Also, it would be a sin to talk about large robots with projectile-spewing appendages without at least mentioning the fact that a new Transformers movie is coming out this summer. The first one was a little short on acting, but the movie wasn’t supposed to be about human actors. It was about transformers. And in that regard, it was plenty sweet. Oh, and I believe the new Transformers movie is supposed to be a bit darker than the first. To that, I say bingo and thank you.

On the twisted-human-walking-on-all-fours front, things aren’t quite so promising. I’m not aware of anything truly noteworthy coming over the horizon, and the most recent horror flick that included such imagery was a big, wet flop. I’m speaking of The Unborn, of course, and the film was aptly named. It never should have been born. The trailer made it appear as though it would literally scare people to death while delivering some serious horror quality, but the trailer lied. I’m not talking about an innocent little fib. I mean a big, nasty, no one will ever forgive you sort of lie.

Exorcist and chiropractor, stat!

I’ve already provided my opinion of this movie in a recent post, so I’ll save you the rant. Just remember to wait until this cinematic turd finds its way onto a DVD before giving it your hard-earned money.

That being said, the whole concept of a person twisting his or her body into a creepy, impossible mess and then crab-walking toward the intended victim makes my brain scream. I hate it and love it at the same time.

With any luck, the right director will come along sooner than later and show us just how effective this sort of imagery can be. It has been done correctly before, and it will surely happen again. Better yet, it would be nice if someone truly gifted, such as Guillermo Del Toro, could create a concept so utterly disturbing that it replaces the twisted crab-walk image as the crown jewel of the horror genre. I guess this is basically a given as people become desensitized to the images they’ve seen countless times in countless horror movies, so it’s simply a matter of waiting for the right director with the right ideas. I’ll have my popcorn butter locked and loaded for when that moment arrives.

I’ve been threatening to write about World of Warcraft, and after last night’s little gaming session, I thought this would be a good time. Why? Because I don’t think I’ve ever been more excited about this game. Yeah, I know… getting excited about what you do in a virtual world probably indicates a certain level of insanity. Well bring out the I-Love-Me jacket.

Actually, don’t – I need my mouse hand.

I’ve been playing MMORPGs (Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Games) since 1999 when a game called Everquest was first released. After installing that game and logging in, I was hooked within two or three nanoseconds. The whole concept was awesome, and unlike many great ideas, it lost nothing in its implementation. I could log into a virtual world, assume one of various roles, and embark on a journey that would stretch out for years and span the real-world equivalent of numerous continents. It was certainly a geeky thing to get into, but that doesn’t really seem like a big deal when you’re a geek.

As Everquest proved that the subscription-based MMORPG was a viable product in the gaming market, other companies began rushing to claim their seats on the bandwagon. Before long, one or two successful titles turned into a swelling ocean of similar games – some great, some destined for failure. Some for failure on an epic level. I remained loyal to Everquest for several years, but was eventually lured away by promising games like Dark Age of Camelot. I triend various MMORPGs over the following years, and have recently fallen into the addictive embrace of World of Warcraft.

World of Warcraft (WoW) is at once larger and smaller than previous titles. In terms of virtual geography, the game is probably on par with the likes of Everquest. However, new-generation games like WoW have become progressively easier over the years as companies begin catering to a younger, less patient crowd and old-school gamers who now have families and can’t sink massive amounts of time into their game of choice. As such, it’s easier and safer to traverse the game world, making it seem a little smaller and less involved. Depending on your perspective and circumstances, this could seem like a very good or very dissapointing thing. I no longer have the sort of time required to fully immerse myself in a game as complex as Everquest, so for me it’s a very good thing.

I can log in with only 30 minutes or an hour to play and actually accomplish something. In the past, only having 30 minutes or an hour of free time meant you were not going to log in. You generally wouldn’t have even been able to get to the correct area in the game and find a group to play with such a small amount of time. I for one am glad that companies have removed this element from the experience. Yes, I get misty-eyed and nostalgic any time I discuss how great Everquest was, how much time I invested in it and how much I enjoyed the insanely immersive nature of that game. But that sort of time-sink isn’t something I can even consider these days.

Like most MMORPGs, WoW is based on a fantasy concept. It’s not quite what you’d expect if you were to use Tolkien’s world as a basis, but it more or less follows that genre. Unlike Everquest and most other such games, WoW incorporates a measure of humor and a smattering of the ridiculous into its content. It gives the whole experience a lighter, more casual feel. It’s hard to take things too seriously when you see a gnome with pink piggie-tails ride by on a large, mechanical bird. Yes, that’s actually in the game. There was a time when I would have prefered the more serious-minded fantasy that permeates a majority of this genre, but these days, humurous and ridiculous sound like a lot more fun. I have a stressful job, a full load of college courses to manage and a family to help support. I’m not looking for serious when I log into an online game.

World of Warcraft offers a few different types of gameplay based on the “server” you choose to play on. Think of a server as one of various seemingly identical theme parks , and each theme park has slightly different rules and dynamics for its rides. Some servers are PvE (player vs. environment), meaning everyone playing on that server mostly just bands together to conquer dungeons and areas controlled by the game itself. There are a few variations of this with very subtle differences. Then there are the PvP servers (player vs. player). Yeah, you guessed it – this is where I hang my hat. A PvP server has all the elements of a PvE server, in that players still band together to fight computer-controlled entities in dungeons and throughout the game-world in general. However, there is one major difference. The game is split into two separate factions, and players have to choose one of those two (called Horde and Alliance respectively) when they create their character. If someone is running through an area and encounters a player from the other faction, they may attack one another.

Sometimes such an encounter simply amounts to a 1-on-1 skirmish that is over quickly. Sometimes, however, numerous people are involved and a massive, drawn-out battle ensues. It can get fairly epic if people are incporporating some strategy and aren’t simply throwing themselves into berzerker mode and rushing in with no plan. That brings me to why last night made me more excited about this game than I’ve ever been.

Most of the time, I play with a buddy I met back in my military days. He’s been a gamer for as long as I have, and he knows how to squeeze every ounce of strategy and advantage out of whatever class he’s playing at the time. Last night, he was playing his Priest and I was playing my Paladin. A Paladin is basically a holy knight who wields a gigantic sword, and a Priest is a spellcaster specializing in healing and protection. That description can be a little misleading, however, as a priest is perfectly capable of melting your face off if you give him half a chance.

We proved our collective “uberness” last night while traversing an area known for encounters with the opposing faction. We were working on various quests (tasks that allow you to gain experience and money) in the area when a paladin from the opposing faction attacked us. We were fighting some critters at the time, so I suppose he thought he could bring us both down while we were already engaged in battle.

First he was wrong. Then he was dead.

This apparently did not settle well with him, as he shortly thereafter showed up with a friend in tow. Another paladin, to be exact. That can be bad news, as the Paladin class is somewhat formidable and two of them together should be nearly unstoppable. Nonetheless, we sent both of them to the local graveyard. And no, we weren’t a couple of high-level guys picking on poor low-level characters. We were all within one or two levels of one another. Both my friend and I are level 49, and the two guys from the opposing faction were level 47 and 48 respectively.

After sending them both on what I like to call “a refreshing dirtnap”, they came back for revenge. Instead of revenge, they both got a second dirtnap. I suppose they figured they’d eventually find a crack in our strategy, because they kept coming back for more. I believe we killed them both four times before it seemed like they had finally given up. We were wrong about one thing. They had indeed given up on the idea of taking us down with just the two of them. After a little time had gone by, our two dirtnap customers showed up again – only this time with a level 53 Warrior friend thrown in for good measure.

Naturally, the fight lasted a great deal longer since we now had three of them to kill and the new guy was higher level. However, the result was the same with one minor difference. Rather than two dirtnaps, we served up three. As a general rule, something like that is nearly impossible. We faced a pair of equal-level Paladins and beat them every time. Then, we defeated those same Paladins along with their level 53 Warrior friend. That last fight was my favorite kind: drawn-out and difficult, requiring a great deal of coordination and strategy. But to be fair, my buddy and I have been playing these kinds of games together for nearly ten years. We can practically read each other’s minds, making it a little easier to apply some serious strategy when the poop hits the air circulation device.

Last night is an example of what keeps me coming back for more in World of Warcraft. It’s a simpler, less time-consuming game than its predecessors, but can still throw a serious challenge at anyone looking for such. Most people describe it as a game that’s extremely easy to get into and somewhat difficult to master. I can’t find any reason to disagree with that, just like I can’t find any reason not to log in again tonight. What can I say, putting the hurt on people can be addicting.

If you’ve never played an MMORPG but would like to see what it’s all about, World of Warcraft is definitely a good place to start. The game is beginner-friendly, doesn’t require loads of time, and is simply one of the most enjoyable games I’ve ever played. Also, I have to plug a podcast while I’m at it. Whether you already play WoW and are looking for a way to learn more about the game you love, or you’re simply interested in finding out why so many people (over 11 million now) are hooked on this behemoth of the MMORPG genre, you should check out The Instance. It’s a weekly podcast by  Scott Jonson and Randy Jordan, and it’s a riot. It’s also the winner of various podcasting awards.

Give it a listen, buy the game, join The Horde and come help us smash Alliance heads. We’re looking for a few good nerds.

It’s rare that I have a chance to see a movie while it’s still in theaters. I simply don’t have the time in most cases, which means even the most anticipated movies have to wait until they’re reserected on DVD before getting my money. Needless to say, I like to be impressed when I actually get a chance to see a movie on the big screen. At the very least, I like for the trailer and the movie to be in some way related. Few things irritate me more than getting excited about an upcoming movie based on its trailer only to wonder if I even sat down in the right theater once the movie is rolling.

Saturday night, my buddy and I carved out a few minutes to go see The Unborn together. He and I had both been chomping at the bit to see this one, so we weren’t going to miss the opportunity. Hell or high water and all that. Like any Hollywood director, David S. Goyer’s portfolio is populated with a mixture of home runs and cinematic turds. This particular project will be filed in the “unfortunate solid waste” section. I’m not so much bothered by the fact that Goyer created another predictable, cliche-riddled tween horror, but that he created such a disappointment from a concept that could have resulted in a groundbreaking, unique addition to the supernatural horror genre.

Rather than lean on the same Catholic lore that fuels virtually every supernatural horror film in the International Movie Database, the story incorporates elements from Jewish lore; elements that, if implemented correctly, could generate something almost too disturbing to watch. Goyer missed a great opportunity when he squandered this unique concept. The Unborn turned out to be a predictable horror flick about teens and for teens. More focus was placed on making the lead character look pretty in her sleeping attire than making people grip their seats. For those of you who are deathly afraid of women’s underwear, I suppose this was a real nail-biter.

One of the creepiest images in any horror film is a human being walking on all fours, his or her body twisted beyond anatomical limits and moving in unnatural, jerky spasms. When such a potentially horrifying scene results in belly laughs rather than crawling skin, you have what we gamer nerds would call “Epic Fail.”

I hope someone will eventually take this concept and turn it into a movie that actually does it a little justice. When that happens, movie-goers around the world will know the meaning of fear. For now, we’ll just have to settle for the meaning of women’s underwear. Be afraid.

I stayed up too late last night watching Battlestar Galactica. I threw the disc in at about 8:30 pm, expecting to just watch one episode – maybe two if I was jones’n for more. As has happened on numerous occassions due to the addictive nature of this amazing show, the night turned into a four-episode stretch. The only reason I stopped there was the fact that there were only four episodes on the disc. Otherwise, I’d still be sitting in my recliner, mainlining Battlestar Galacticrack.

At no point in the history of television has anyone hit the nail so squarely on the head – proverbial or otherwise. Yes, that’s just my opinion. But since it’s right, it’s ok for me to present it as a factual statement. David Eick and Ronald D. Moore have practically created a new genre with this show. There have been examples in the past of science fiction, drama and action hybrids, but never has there been this much natural synergy. Perhaps the closest example, though barely related, is a previous show known as Firefly. There are vast differences between the scale and approach of Firefly and BSG, but there are also subtle similarities that slide them into a vaguely common category.

Rather than create the super-clean, ultra-tech environment adopted by most sci-fi titles, the creators of BSG kept the technology to a minimum and pushed the grit through the roof. If someone gets injured, a robot is not going to show up, wave a seemingly magic device over them, and send them back to work without so much as a scar. If someone in the BSG world gets sick or injured, they suffer – just like we do. Their technology is advanced compared to our own (mostly just in terms of their faster-than-light drive and the existence of the Cylons), but not to the point that things are totally unrecognizable. Machines break, machines leak oil, and a lot of highly dedicated, greasy technicians have to bloody their knuckles every day in an attempt to keep things running.

I finally went to bed a few minutes before midnight, basking in a post-BSG glow. I know, that sounds disturbing. Anyway, get your hands on the first disc from season 1 and watch this show if you haven’t already done so. But I’ll warn you – any other shows you may be watching will most likely be relegated to ye olde backburner. BSG is that good. It even occupies the time I generally set aside for World of Warcraft whenever I have a disc at the house, and that’s saying a lot for an extreme gamer nerd like me.

Yep, I know what you’re wondering: “If he’s such a gamer nerd, why hasn’t he written anything about World of Warcraft yet?” Don’t worry, it’s coming… and it’s going to be nerdlicious.