Overarching Life Updates in 4 Shitty Photos (or how I spent my summer)

It has come to my attention, that while I have done my damndest to ramble about cars and shitty movies, I have done a admittedly piss poor job of having anything particularly personal here lately. The solution? I've decided to throw up some pictures from the past few months with a week bit of context. All of the pictures are from my phone so they look a little crappy.

This is Shinlei, Meg's old boss and her morbidly obese but much loved cat named Bao Dee. Despite his size, Bao Dee is remarkably capable. He can open cabiniets and terrify the shit out of small children. Meg and I were over at Shinlei's for a house warming party which came to a sudden end when one guest managed to fall through the top of a glass table. Amazingly no one was hurt, but the cat was upset and asked the guests to leave.

The here is a picture of a truck in Maine with a freshly caught coon in it. Alternately it may be an unhappy Mainer attempting political satire by implying that Gubernatorial candidate LePage is a raccoon. Either way, this picture was taken on a father son trip up into the Maine woods. We did a lot of hiking including a 14 mile day hike up and around Katahdin. It was great to spend a week with my dad and encounter many strange incidents like the one portrayed above.

This is the new front to my house! After 15 years of living there and wanting the door moved, my mother has finally gotten her way. While I was pretty skeptical of the investment required to move the door 8 feet (about $15k) my mom is so happy about it, and the other changes made so good (new entry to basement, new closet space, new front to the house, new lighting) that I must say it was money well spent.

I've spent a few weekends in Vermont this summer, usually taking time to see my parents and hang out with the home team. My friend Jade (A man despite the name) has opened a gym in the last few weeks which focuses on crossfit. About half of my friends have put down roots in Burlington now that they are out of school The other half of my friends seem to be getting scattered to the wind with a surprising number ending up in Boston.

Lastly, this is my Yerba Mate tea glass that Manasi got me for my 25th birthday. It replaces the french press mug visible in the backgroumd. The new mug is both more functional and better at giving the impression that I am doing exotic drugs at work.

My 25th was pretty amazing. I spent the weekend itself with friends at a camp in Connecticut on a sail boat and in the sauna. While this party was not for me in any way, it was great to be rowdy with old friends. Hannah made me a cake. The following weekend I had people over for a party at my place. There was a strong turnout and wizard sticks abounded. It was a little weird to grapple with the reality that many of my friends do not know each other, and at least some do not like each other. Lastly, I spent the following week in Amsterdam with Meg. It was amazingly low key with a concert and museum trips interspersed between endless hours hanging out in parks and cafes.

Crank II: High Voltage

I was 13 my parents left town for the weekend. As surrogate parents, my parents left an intern and her boyfriend to check in on me. Being Americorp volunteers they had literally no money or fun earthly possessions the young couple decided to take the opportunity to watch a DVD of an odd film that had recently bombed out of theaters.

That film was Fight Club, and it was a game changer for me. For recently pubescent Stephan, it was a revelation. Suddenly I had a template for anti-conformity, taste in film, hatred of corporations, sexual deviance and a Palahniuk fueled sense of superiority. In that one night I became a teenager.

Since then, there have been other movies which, upon first viewing brought about similar personal upheaval. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Pulp Fiction. There's Something about McConkey.

Now comes this. After watching this movie I was left in a heap of elated confusion. It was like a brain liquefying concussion rendered via marshmellow.

The movie starts exactly where the last one left off (you saw the last one right?) with Jason Stathem landing on a car after a fall from a helicopter. He is abducted and whisked off to a secret warehouse. His health is restored for just long enough for his captors pull out his heart and replace it with electric powered unit. This scene features what I believe is the only instance of a cigarette being ashed a body cavity.

He soon finds out that the baddies who wanted to kill him in the first movie are so taken with his ability to stay alive that they are giving his heart to their leader. Stathem seems pretty OK with this until he realizes that they also are planning on taking his penis, at which point he begins an escape plan that culminates with anally violating a man with a shotgun.

After the shotgun raping Stathem heads out to find his heart and kick asses. In an early ass kicking scene, Stathem inadvertently rescues a meth addicted Korean hooker named Ria (or Kia?) from a fat man who wants to kill her. Ria falls instantly in love with him and spends the rest of the movie following him with no apparent purpose.

As in the first movie, Stathem must keep his heart beating at all times. However, since it is an electric heart, he must do this my zapping himself in various ways. These include using a car battery (above), electric cables, and in a well played scene, sex in the middle of a horse race (duh, friction!). Another inspired scene pits Stathem against his nemesis but portrays the battle with 70’s Godzilla style costumes storming through a model town.

It’s hard to explain what makes this movie so great, but since I’ve gotten this far I may as well try. In an age were everything feels derivative purveyors of shitty action movies usually take one of two routes –

First, the sly winking self conscious route which go out of their way to mock themselves subtly. These movies appear on casual viewing to serve up standard action movie fare, but include little moments where the fourth wall is broken and savvy viewers can detect that the director is almost apologizing for the shit they have created. The grammar of these films usually feature a moment where an actor looks knowingly into the camera as they deliver a stupid line, comically large guns and abuse of slow motion. Watching these movies is like hanging out with a self deprecating alcoholic uncle. The fact that they know they are an asshole and are humble about being an asshole really doesn’t get them through the un-pleasantness of them being an asshole.

Most of the time when I watch these movies I can’t help but think that the director is very embarrassed and is hoping that the friends he made in film school will not mock him too much for being a sell out.

Secondly, there is the more dominant action movie played straight. Michael Bay owns this genre. These movies pander shamelessly to the young, the stupid and cinematically uninitiated. At their worst, they try to insert a heavy handed moral. While these movies can be pretty funny to watch with the right group of friends and the right outlook, I can’t help but feeling that Michael Bay hates his viewers.

In fact I know he does.

Actual transcript of a Michael Bay pre-production Meeting.

Studio Head: Michael, we need to pitch an idea this afternoon and we don’t have anything!

MB: Let’s see…  explosions… firm jail bait titties… uhhhh… cars… hmmmm… military vehicles swooshing!

Studio Head: MiBae (his real nick name) that isn’t a movie… you’re just mumbling.

MB:  No goddamnit! These people read fucking MAXIM magazine! The most exciting things in their lives is Keystone and bottle rockets. It may be shit, but if we can entice these fucktards with some PG-13 tits and violence enough to quit touching themselves for 90 minutes, we just might take some of their money.

This literally happens before every Michael Bay Movie.

What makes Crank II enjoyable is a simple, simple thing called fun. It know it’s dumb, but it doesn’t hit you over the head with it. There is no moral. There isn’t even really a good guy. There is only unrestrained ass kicking strung along with a simple plot.

Bonus Question: Does anyone think Jason will ever lose it and due like a three year stint starring in off Broadway plays? 

Market analysis and Mostly benign rambling on the launch of the Chevrolet Volt

Tuesday marked the announcement for pricing on the long awaited Chevy Volt. See, a long time ago in 2007 a corporation called GM showed a concept car in the remote corner of it's green section through the auto show season. It was a much applauded concept but few took it seriously.

Then, the bottom fell out. 18 months later GM and Chrysler were bankrupt wards of the state and the Obama administration was their boss. Suddenly the slow track Volt was GMs top R&D priority. Batteries were abused. Frames were abused. One billion dollars disappeared into a project which was widely seen as GMs most defining moment since it's meteoric rise after WWII.

For many GM embodies the pinnacle of corporate mismanagement. In the last thirty years GM has managed to lose market share in most years. It's business model has been almost entirely on large and high powered SUVs and boat sized sedans. It was once quipped that if you want to end the war on drugs, you could simply put GM in charge of selling them.

But now the Volt is here. If it lives up to its promise, it could remake GM and blow open a whole new market segment. It goes 40 on electricity which costs two to seven cents a mile. After that a gas powered generator kicks on, allowing it to travel another 300 miles. After that the car can be filled, gas, or both to continue on. The interior is well appointed with leather and all types of electronics optional.

Sound good? There is a catch in the from of a $41000-44000 price tag. With the $7500 tax break, the Volt comes in at $33500. This price puts it in competition with the BMW 3, Acura TL and TSX, the Lexus IS, Cadillac CTS, the Audi A4 and the Corvette.

So can they do it? The luxury car market has been soft and the Volt lacks in performance... I think that's ok. At a time when Camrys come with 260 ponies and Mustangs get 30mpg there is room in every niche.

There will be just 10,000 volts in the first year, most of which will be accounted for long before the first one makes it to show rooms. Depending on initial quality and consumer reaction it seems likely that at very least GM will have a small market success on it's hand. A feather in its cap to show that GM can do innovative and environmentally sound things.

The true make or break will come down to what gas prices do. Peak oil has arrived, and if the economy picks up rapidly we will see $4 gas return, in which case the Volt would justify its premium price to a much larger audience.

Verdict

After some writing something about deliberation, I have decided not to post it.

As much as I wish I could be objective, the truth is that I still have some strong feelings about what went on in the Jury room, and I don't think I can give everyone a fair shake.

I will say that all present in the room brought strong perspectives and processes to coming to a consensus, and that I am very proud of what we accomplished.

Getting 12 people to agree unanimously on what to have for lunch is near impossible. Getting twelve people to agree on the fate of two young men who participated in an incident which resulted in a death is nothing short of a miracle.

I would like to specifically point out the contribution of Kurt Miller. Kurt is a teacher and served as the Jury foreman. His ability to keep a cool head and a sense of humor kept the powder keg of 12 people locked in a room from ever going off.

Our verdict was that Eugene Teixeira was guilty of manslaughter. We came to this unanimous decision based on the criteria that he killed Shadide Wiggins during physical fight during which he sustained injuries. There was no evidence presented which proved beyond a reasonable doubt that Eugene provoked the conflict or had the intent to cause grievous bodily harm prior to the beginning of the fight. Eugene will face 13 years in prison. He will be 36 when he gets out. He has been in jail since he was 21, and in and out of the system prior to that for several other lesser crimes.

Our verdict was that Aasim Smith was not guilty of aiding and abetting in the unlawful killing of Shadide Wiggins. While small amounts Shadide's of blood were present on Aasim's pant leg, we found this evidence did not conclusively link Aasim to any actual contact Shadide given the amount of blood in the apartment. All testimony, and the 911 tape also suggests that Chris Burnell was successful in restraining Aasim during the conflict.

Splice or "Why you shouldn't have sex with your genetically altered freak baby"

Howdy folks - as you may have noticed I am getting pretty close to the end of writing about the trial. I hope that it's been insightful (or at least readable) and am hoping to finish up by the end of the week. It's been a lot of fun to write about although it takes a lot of energy for reasons I don't entirely understand. For that reason, I've decided to take a break again and write about something fun.

SPLICE!

I'm writing this with spoilers. So maybe you should go see this fine film before you read it.


Where to begin? For starters I'd like to point out this movie crosses at least four genres. First, it is a fine Sci-Fi as allegory for the human condition movie like 2001, Sunshine, Moon, Children of Men or Event Horizon. Next, it has horror element which comes in during the third act. Additionally, the beginning has an undeniable family drama component about the challenges of having a child and balancing work with life. Finally there is a level of dark comedy that holds all the pieces together.


The film opens with power couple Elsa and Clive having just created a pair of synthetic creatures that look like slugs. These nasty little critters have been created as a way to produce chemicals to be used as medicine for livestock. Elsa and Clive are the managers of NERD, an autonomous lab which is art of a mega medical company run by an evil French looking women.

Despite their status and successes, we soon learn that all is not well. They need to deliver actual drugs from their freaky little critters, which means less time having fun. They dream of creating a human spliced critter, but the evil French looking women puts the kybosh on it as being too costly. There are troubles at home too - Clive wants babies, but his controlling but lovable wife doesn't want to deal with a pregnancy and child changing the power structure of their marriage.

These troubles seem to have a simple resolution as they try to prove that a human can be included in a spliced critter. They successfully splice the genes, and Clive is happy letting it rest at that, but Elsa wants to see if the DNA can actually be used. Clive grudgingly agrees.

Of course, things go wrong, and what was supposed to be a proof of concept that they kill has soon turned into this cute little squirrel thing.

Elsa is taken with the little critter and refuses to let Clive kill it. Soon she is taking care of it and dressing it like a child.

During this side experiment, things in the lab have gone to shit. No progress is being made isolating the needed chemical from their previous experiment, and so the parent corporation starts to take over. With their backs against the wall, Elsa and Clive take their creature to an old farm which belonged to Elsa's bat shit crazy mother.

The creature (named Dren or nerd backwards) has developed rapidly with powerful cognitive abilities  and a kicking bod. Kind of hard to explain, but by ditching CGI in favor of crazy make up, Dren is given an oddly sexy presence as a hairless hottie with a tail.

The movie shifts gears at the farm where Elsa stays home during the day giving the girly attention to Dren that she never received and Clive works long hours to keep the project going at work. Dren takes quickly to being a teenage girl, acting out, clutching a cat as her only friend and developing a crush on Clive.

Elsa realizes Dren's crush on her husband and loses her shit. She take Dren's cat which results in Dren attacking her. Elsa cuts off a piece of Dren which she then takes to the lab while Clive has his turn to babysit. Dren seduces Clive and the the audience bares witness to the second of three very uncomfortable sex scenes.

Elsa walks in on them and runs away with Clive chasing shirtless behind her. They reconvene at their old apartment where Elsa conveys her pain and dismay at the fact that Clive has cheated on her after 7 years with a teenage mutant alien love child. They agree that Dren belongs as an experiment, not as part of their life.

They return to find that Dren is dead, and they proceed to bury her and start to burn her stuff. They are sad, but there is a feeling that things will finally go back to normal between them. As they are cleaning, an employee of the company arrives with Clive's brother who knew about Dren. They have come to claim Dren as property of the company.

Dren quickly kills him (She's a he now and he has wings) and drags away Clive's brother. Elsa and Clive chase after him into the woods but become separated. Dren then stalks Elsa, finally crushing her to the ground - then in the most uncomfortable sex scene I have ever seen -  rapes her. Clive comes in time to stab Dren in the heart, but he is killed in the process. Elsa finishes the injured Dren with a rock to the head.

The film closes with a shot of pregnant Elsa in the office of the evil French lady. She has agreed to have the mutant rape incest baby for a large amount of money.

"Why is this odd movie so good?", you might be wondering. It's certainly not the sex scenes. What makes this movie really good in my eyes in the pacing and patience with character development. Elsa and Clive own 90% of the screen time, and almost all of it contributes to the viewers understanding of them as a character. Even when you hate them, it is hard not to empathize with them. This is achieved with out making the movie too slow or compromise it's message.

The Autopsy

Of all the testimony heard during the trial, it should not come as a surprise that hearing from the women who had conducted the autopsy on Shadide Wiggens was one of the most anticipated, difficult and impactful.

Dr. Mindy J. Hull, an anatomical pathologist, was the women who had conducted the autopsy. Dr. Hull is a small women who none the less entered the court room and took the stand with authority and poise. For more than an hour she testified as to the cause of death of Shadide.

As with all other expert witnesses, her credentials were first established. While appearing to be young, Dr. Hull (it's hard to think that anyone who knows what she does calls her Mindy) has been through years of school, residency, teaching and board certification. Sufficed to say she knew her shit.

After establishing her expertise, Flashner displayed a large poster board diagram of Shadide's body in the same style of the picture I have placed above. The jurors were fixated. One by one Flashner and Hull went through each of the seven wounds on Shadide's body, pointing them out on the poster board, and displaying a photograph of the body on a large LCD television.

Starting from the bottom, they were:

1. A slash across the middle finger of the left and which was 1/4" deep
2. A stab wound to the back left flank 2" deep
3. A 4 and 3/4" stab wound to the lower left abdomen which entered the liver and was produced with enough force to leave an imprint of the handle
4. A 4" stab wound to the left abdomen which entered the sack surrounding the lungs and heart
5. A 4 and 3/4" stab would to the chest which punctured the sack surrounding the heart and was produced with enough force that the handle of the knife tore the skin
6. A 2" deep stab wound which went right to left in the back left shoulder
7. A 4+" stab wound which entered along the jaw line, exited through the neck and re-entered through the clavicle, which was creatively illustrated by sticking a probe (think BBQ skewer) through Shadide's face.

The jury was speechless. This didn't look like self defense anymore.

Those that were paying close attention to the pictures of Shadide's body noticed something else beyond the new wounds - across his right arm and chest was a deeply set and wide scar from a previous knife fight.

So how had Cleo died? Dr. Hull had concluded that the three wounds around his heart, lungs and liver caused heavy internal bleeding. Cleo's body cavity rapidly filled with over a liter of blood, which he essentially drowned in from the inside out.

I was captivated.

Some of the other jurors were terrified. They found the idea of this small girlish women talking about death so openly unnerving. Some noted that she had dark eyes and theorized that she was possessed.

Below is video of Mindy testifying in another trial (also a stabbing) so you can decide for yourself.

Gowned Up for Factory Tours

Two weeks ago I was in in Minnesota for an off site for work. We toured three factory lines that manufacture medical devices, and the rotational program kids had to gown up to go into the clean rooms.

It was pretty amazing seeing how our products were made. It really reminded me that the products we make matter.

Please note the stylish beard guard I'm wearing.

A Respite of Humor and Nerdiness in the Testimony of an Audio Engineer

One of the most compelling and confusing pieces of evidence in the trial was the audio recording of the 911 call placed by Jeanine as the crime was happening. We heard testimony from both Jeanine and the Dispatcher regarding the recording, but neither could provide much credible context.

For the 911 Dispatcher it was clearly very difficult for him to have a good recollection of one of many calls he had received two years ago. Even at the time of the call he was quite confused. He can be heard on the recording advising officers that he believes a child is being abducted.

Jeanine simply appeared to be lying when she talked about what she heard on the tape.

The tape was mostly screaming. There is static, loud noises and mayhem. At times male voices were audible, but it was very hard to tell what was being said.

For the prosecution this jumbled mess of audio was important. With the defendants not testifying, and the only other two witnesses having clearly concocted an alternate narrative with counselor Murphy, the 911 call was the only piece of credible truth from the time of the crime.

To make the call more decipherable the prosecution turned to Maria Dery, a audio engineer for the Harvard Library and owner of Tamar Mastering. The first step in the testimony of an expert witness is to establish their expertise. For Maria, this meant going through her long and lustrous career producing music and restoring audio.

Maria wore the mark of a nerd. A true geek, addicted to doing good technical work for the sake of doing it right. Her suit was slightly disheveled and her body and face told the story of a women who spent many long hours in front of computers.

A point of pride during her questioning came when she described a recent forensic competition she had entered. (Who knew there was such a thing?) The competition was apparently fierce and she had placed second, working alone, against a team of four Russians. She told the story with a glow. The jury stifled laughter.

What she had produced was pretty amazing though. Maria had worked for hours and hours on the 911 call stripping away the static noise and turning down the screaming to let the background shine through.

For the first time the jury could start to hear what had really happened. Most importantly, it was clear that Chris had been in the kitchen trying to stop the fight and that Jeanine had run out (with the phone) as the confrontation devolved into violence.

Why was this so important to me?

It meant that Jeanine had been lying the day of the crime when she talked to police. On the day of the killing she had said that her boys had beat up Shadide, but the truth was she say almost nothing.

It also meant that even though Chris was speaking a lot of bullshit, he was telling the truth about being in the kitchen and intervening.

What the Cops had to Say

When Jeanine called 911, it kicked off a chain reaction of law enforcement involvement that is almost hard to fathom. Two local squad cars responded in under a minute. Close behind them were two ambulances.

Upon arriving at the scene and assessing the life threatening injuries of Cleo, and the absence of one suspect and army of resources began to descend on the scene. Almost all on duty Chelsea police responded including a paddy wagon and the homicide and violent crimes unit. The State Police sent troopers. After Cleo's death the Crime Scene techs and chemists were summoned to document the scene.

The court heard the testimony of nearly 20 law enforcement officials; from the dispatcher on up. With one exception all of them exuded a professionalism directness which was refreshing after days of clearly being fed bull shit.

Despite their professionalism however, there was very little new light shed on the case. All of them were testifying about something that had happened more than two years earlier. All they really established was that procedure had been followed for the most part.

The chemists we heard from did not bring any new revelations either. They established that neither bat had blood. They established that both boys had some occult (invisible) blood on their hands. They established that Eugene had Cleo's blood on him in several places including his hands and shirt. Aasim on the other hand only had a small droplet of Cleo's blood on the pants he was wearing.

I think most interestingly was how much different the tech's experience was than what is seen on CSI. Most of the presentations were on poster board. Every one of the techs and chemists was a women. None of them appeared to have fake breasts.

The defense tried to poke holes in the stories of the cops and techs. On several occasions counselor Murphy even raised his voice to draw attention to his points.

Some Brief Counter Programming

For the past couple of months, this blog has been full of doom and gloom. I am going to get through the rest of the trial over the next couple of weeks, but I thought it might be nice to give you do reader a little sunshine. I've had a pretty awesome month kiddies.

After much rumination Meg and I have begun seeing each other again. As has been the case in the past, a little time apart brought a whole lot of clarity. I will not speculate too much here, sufficed to say I am very happy with where we are right now.

At the end of last month, I went with several Vermont friends, some Bentley people and Meg to Providence for their beer fest! It was a rowdy good time, and despite shoving 8 adults in a mini hotel room, it was amazing. It was such a good time in fact that a certain disoriented friend of mine had to be retrieved from Providence Convention security.

The next week I went to Burlington for the somber celebration surrounding the end of school for many of my friends. The somberness was promptly interrupted by several kegs and some unexpected sunshine.

After that I had week on the road off to St. Paul for work. I did not have high expectations, but Minneapolis/St. Paul proved to be a pretty amazing place. The city was great, the people were great, the weather was great. It definitely put a chink in the armor of my Coastal elitism, and I can say that under the right circumstances, I would live there.

From STP, I flew to NYC where I met up with Meg, Caitlin and Madison. We bopped around most of the weekend, enjoying the sun on roof tops and seeing LCD sound system at terminal 5. Some of my companions got a bit intoxicated and ended up doing yoga in the lobby of a Holiday Inn. At one point we managed to rescue a mannequin headed for the trash and bring it back to safety. Also, there was a party which ended when a PETA sympathized drenched the halls of the party building with red paint. Magically Chris P appeared at one point.

The weekend after that, I headed to San Fran to meet up with Lindsay. We spent a few days wandering around the mission. The trip was punctuated by a trip to Half Moon Bay, a viewing of Robin Hood, a tour of the AMAZING Anchor Steam Brewery and the consumption of 8 episodes of "The Pacific".

And finally, I spent the last weekend in a continuous near coma with Meg recovering from 6 very busy weeks. The weekend featured over 30 hours of sleeping and food from every major restaurant in the Brookline area. Also we made delicious blueberry pancakes. We watched the Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus - a very strange film. I do not recommend it to the sleepy or the sober. It is wacky in a Terry Gillian way, but if you know what you are getting into, it is pretty great.

A trip to Chelsea and the Testimony of Chris Burnett

By the second week of the trial, the jurors had started getting into a routine. We had all had some sleepless nights. The ice was broken now, and even though we could not discuss any aspect of the case with each other, we were starting to find out the things we had in common.

The jury was made up of a diverse group of people. A carpenter, a masseuse, a teacher, a vice principal, a chambermaid, a nutritionist, an unemployed accountant, a stay at home mom… people from different backgrounds who all lived in the same city, and who all had been put on the hook to bring closure to the case.

The second week start with the testimony of Chris Burnett. Chris lived in at 156 Chester Ave. #2 at the time of the murder, and he had been in the kitchen at the time of the killing. Chris was a middle aged black man who looked sick and tired. For much of his life, Chris had been on dialysis for his failing kidneys.

At one time Chris had worked construction, but his failing health and life choices had brought him to a point where he spent much of the 90s and 2000s selling drugs, going to jail and at times living in his car.

The story Chris told to the prosecution was that he had gone to dialysis on April 29, 2008 in the morning and come home and fallen asleep. He was awoken by loud noises and ran in to find the boys kicking down the door. His story matched up with Jeanine’s to an unsettling level of specificity. Despite this he claimed that he was not friends with Jeanine.

On cross examination, he told the same story. It was on re-cross however that the prosecution pointed out that despite his claim if not being close with Jeanine, it was Jeanine’s new address that appeared on his drivers license.

The testimony took up most of a day and a half. After Christ finished, we were scheduled to go on a view. The jury and all attorneys, as well as the judge, were herded onto a coach bus, and with a 5 vehicle police escort taken to 156 Chester Ave. #2. As we went down the highway, on and off ramps were closed. Every intersection was blocked off. Through neighborhoods people lined up along the road sides to stare.

The rules of a view are simple. The attorneys may “direct attention” to certain aspects of the alleged crime scene; BUT UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES may they imply the significance of anything.

The apartment had changed a lot since the time of the killing. For days we had been looking at crime scene photos depicting a sad place, made only somewhat sadder by the presence of blood splatter and broken furniture. Now it was a happy place. The walls had been painted pink in many rooms, and their were paintings on all of the walls. In the living room, which had been a lightless den, a toddler played shyly as 20 invaders wandered around her home.

It was hard to fathom that a place that had seen so much anger and violence could be transformed. With a coat of paint, and a loving family 156 Chester Ave. #2 had become a new place.

The Testimony of Jeanine Teixeira

I think the hardest part of the whole trial was listening to the testimony of Luckas and Pooda's mother Jeanine. Jeanine has initially cooperated with he DA, and had made statements in a Grand Jury concerning Cleo's death.

Jeanine is a 4o year old women who appears to be Portuguese. She was thick, but not fat. The most distinctive thing about Jeanine was her chubby baby face a streak of bright right through her dark brown hair.

Flashner began questioning Jeanine, starting with questions about the day of the murder. At first the questioning had a certain amount of humor.

Flashner: I would like to address your attention to the morning of April 29, 2008. When you woke up that morning, what did you do?

Jeanine: I spoke to Cleo and went to check on the boys.

Flashner: Did you do anything before checking on the boys?

Jeanine: *sighs audibly into the mic* I smoked at a blunt and had sex.

The look on everyones face was priceless. Even the judge put a hand over his face to suppress a giggle.

As the questioning went on however, Jeanine began to cry. Flashner slowly had her walk through the day of Shadide's death. It became apparent, that no matter what he had done to her, at one point Jeanine had loved Cleo.

At one point Jeanine was asked about walking into the boys room.

Flashner: When you walked into the boys room, what did you see?

Jeanine: Luckas was on his futon, and Pooda... Pooda was in the closet.

As she said this she looked to her youngest boy sitting at the defendants table and the two laughed as they looked into each others eyes.

As the questioning proceeded, Jeanine became more and more incoherent and uncooperative. She denied seeing a female police officer, even though there was one. She said she had take 2 oz. of cocaine from the apartment, even though it seemed very unlikely that she had been allowed inside and she denied remembering a number of things she said at the police station, despite there being video of the interview.

The testimony with Flashner's questioning went on all day.

On the next day, she was questioned first by Murphy. Murphy had been working with her since the day of the crime. Murphy was a family friend, via Jeanine's mother, who was experienced in such matters. Meticulously, he began poking holes in the story Flashner had gotten out of her.

The most impactful cross examination came from Weymouth's questioning however. Rather than try to muddy the situation as more confusing like Murphy had done, Weymouth focused on his client, the younger boy.

Slowly, a story emerged.

Aasim Smith was born in 1990 to Jeanine Teixeira and Aasim Smith Sr. Tat that time they lived on the cape. For the first hear of Aasim's life, his family was a tight family unit, then, when he was one his mother ran away. For the nest 15 years Aasim was raised by his father, with occasional stays at his grandmothers and aunts. For the most part though, Aasim's father bore the weight alone of keeping his son on the right track and in school.

Jeanine never paid child support. She rarely visited. When she regained custody in 2007, she spent Christmas eve with Cleo at a crack house in East Boston, and not with her son.

The jury was almost reduced to tears, and Jeanine was bordering on hysterical.

Opening Statements

After Jury selection the trail began with opening statements from the respective sides. The judge gave a brief description of the English tradition behind the procedure and we were off and running.

First, the prosecution presented their case. The prosecution was represented by Assistant AG Flashner. AAG Flashner was a man in his mid 40s who seemed to take pride in being a bit of an arrogant prick. He looked vaguely like Will Arnett and he had a personality that suggested to me the kid in high school who is panic stricken to the point of tears when he realizes that his classmates are using marijuana.

Flashner had also watched way too many fucking episodes of Law and Order. Rather than simply talking about the killing Flashner found it necessary to create a complex narrative about "Choices and Consequences". I think his reasoning being that the jury was too dumb, to ignorant or too inattentive to draw any conclusions on their own. He went on for about 20 minutes telling us that while the situation was sad, it was ultimately the choice if Aasim and Eugene to enter the apartment.

Next to present was Eugene's attorney, Counselor Murphy. Murphy was an ornery old blue blood Bostonian with a think accent and rosatia to max. Like a less dignified Ted Kennedy his opening statement was 15 minutes of hot blooded yelling. I honestly cannot remember anything about what he said except that it was delivered with a passion and outrage that made it hard not to laugh.

Finally Aasim's lawyer presented. Aasim's lawyer, counselor Weymouth was by far the most collected. He acted with a reverence and respect for his client, the jury and the law and made everyone sit up and pay attention. Weymouth countered Flashner's long winded fable about choices and consequences with a much simpler narrative. He told us briefly and with compassion about his client, who was 15 at the time of Cleo's killing. About a boy who had never known his mother.

We were all taken aback by what we had just seen, but it did not prepare us at all for hearing from Jeanine Teixeira, the boys mother and the deceased's girlfriend.

April 29th, 2008

Eugene Teixeira

On the morning of April 29th, 2008 Jeanine Teixeira awoke in her Chelsea apartment the the sound of her boyfriend Shadeed "Cleo" Wiggins yelling into the phone. Cleo was upset because the African women he had entered into green card marriage with was not paying him the $200 a month he had been promised.

Jeanine had been together with Cleo for 6 months. Jeanine had recently turned 4o and dating the 25 year old Cleo made her feel young again. When Cleo got mad in the morning Jeanine knew exactly what to do. She methodically rolled a fat blunt from a hollowed out Philly and summoned Cleo back to bed.

At approximately 9AM Jeanine left the bedroom in a warm haze to see if her boys had made it out of the house. Her oldest, Eugene "Luckas" Teixeira (21) was still in bed. From the closet in the boys room she could hear rustling and giggling. She opened the closet to find her youngest son Aasim "Pooda" Smith (15) who was skipping school again to hang out with his older brother.

For most of their lives the boys had shuttled between their fathers, their aunt and their two loving grandmothers. Their mother had a long history of instability, and now, for the first time they were all living under the same roof.

Jeanine yelled at the boys for not getting out of the house, and at Aasim especially for not going to school. Her anger passed quickly though, and soon she returned to her room with Cleo. She told Cleo that the boys had not left the house and he flew into a rage.

Since moving in together in February Cleo had become violent towards Jeanine, leaving her with bite marks, scars and black eyes. On this morning Cleo was already in a bad mood and he demanded that Jeanine's freeloading kids get out of the house.

Feeling like she had lost control of her kids, and afraid of Cleo, Jeanine told her sons to get out of the house. She told them to back their things and go immediately. She would call their grandmother to pick them up in the afternoon.

The boys, knowing what 6' 265 lbs. Cleo could do when he was mad packed a few of their things, collected the XBOX from the living room and left the house.

As the boys were leaving, the houses 5th occupant Chris Burnett was coming home. Chris depended on dialysis three times a week to stay alive, and upon returning from treatment he went into his room and promptly fell asleep.

Jeanine called her mother as promised and made arrangements for the boys to be picked up after work from in front of the house in Chelsea. Shortly after making this call, Cleo realized that the XBOX was not in the house and flew into a fresh rage. He ransacked the boys room leaving a futon on its side and all of the drawers torn out of the dressers.

Jeanine then called Eugene to return immediately with the XBOX and to let him know he would be picked up by his grandmother in the afternoon.

At 3:40PM Luckas and Pooda returned to the front of the house and begain yelling that they were coming to get their stuff. Their mother both by yelling and via cell phone told them to wait outside until their grandmother arrived.

Luckas and Pooda were angry. Luckas was getting ready to leave for Los Vegas in a day to work construction with his grandfather for $34 an hour. Pooda was angry because for the first time in his life he finally had a mother, and every day he watched her be abused and sometimes beaten by Cleo.

For reasons that remain unclear at 3:42PM the boys decided the time at come to act. They ran to the back stairs of the house running up loudly enough to gain the attention of the neighbors. Their mother heard them running up and locked the back door, placing herself in front of it. Cleo entered the room baseball bat and perhaps a knife in hand.

The boys began kicking at the door with enough force to tear the frame out of the wall and eventually break out the center panel. As the panel crumpled in, Jeanine called 911. What happened next is unclear. There is only garbled audio.

Male Voice: "Luckas, Chill"

Luckas: "That's our mother in there"

Jeanine: screaming

Male Voice: "Stop, chill the fuck out"

crashing sounds

male voices yelling

Jeanine: Screams continuous

sound of redial button being pressed

sounds of running

911 Dispatcher: "Ma'am you have to calm down and tell me what's happening"

Jeanine: "My sons just came in and tried to beat up my boyfriend"

sounds of running, inaudible voices

Jeanine: "Luckas, Pooda - you mother fuckers are going to jail"

What is known is that inside the pile of noise heard on the 911 call the following events take place:

-Luckas and Pooda enter

-Cleo swings a bat and connects with Luckas hard enough to break his hand and leave a visible Spaulding logo on his shoulder

-Chris attempts to intervene

-Cleo ends up with multiple stab wounds including four to the chest, one through the face and one through the back.

-The boys exit through the back door depositing an aluminum bat on the grass as they run.

-Jeanine exits the house with the phone just as or before the stabbing begins.

As Jeanine stood on the front porch of the house her two boys ran past yelling at both to stop. Young Aasim stopped at the end of the street, while Eugene continued running to a safe place. The police arrived seconds later and took Aasim into custody after a half hearted attempt to flee.

The police found Cleo struggling for breath at the bottom of the front stairs. EMTs worked for 20 minutes to revive him, but he ultimately succumbed after losing a 1/2 liter of blood into his torso.

Eugene spoke to his grandmother at 4:24PM when she called him to tell him Cleo was dead. Under the advice of a trusted family lawyer Eugene surrendered to police in Cambridge where his grandmother had ties to the police, and he could have an attorney present at the time of the arrest.

Jury Selection

Jury Duty has been a really remarkable experience for me that may prove to be quite formative. I had very low expectations going in, and instead ended up facing a challenge that was singularly unique in my life so far. With this in mind I have decided to record the day to day impressions and occurrences through out the process; with all trial proceedings published at the trials conclusion.

Monday, April 26^th

In January I found out that I had been called for Jury Duty. I didn’t really think much of it, and I assumed that I would have to spend a day in and out of waiting rooms getting work done until finally being rejected and sent home. So when the day finally came around I took the much touted 501 express bus from down the street to Boston in a paltry 20 minutes for the first time and arrived at the court house at 8AM sharp.

The building reminded me of the evil tower in Ghostbusters, in that it was strangely ornate and threatening despite just being an old gray building. I went through what reminded me of a airport security in 1990 (kind of a half assed effort) where I went through a rudimentary metal detector and asked politely if I was carrying any weapons.

I proceeded into wood paneled elevators to the second floor Jury Pool room. The Jury Pool room is exactly how I imagine purgatory to be. It was filled with approximately 200 distressed looking people who had no interest in talking to each other. About 20 people had brought lap tops, and there was precisely one power jack that worked. There was wireless internet which connected long enough to bring up the header of web pages before disappearing. People were not permitted to leave. It was like being in an airport with out the benefits of hot food, a bar, TVs, a place to smoke or any scheduled flights.

Starting at 10am Court officers began calling groups of jurors to be whisked away via a secret elevator for Jury Selection. Eventually, my number was called, and I was taken into a court room with 70 other jurors. In the courtroom were also present the prosecution, the judge, the defense and the accused. The judge gave a brief description of the case and then asked a series of questions to weed out ineligible jurors. Then we were again whisked away to another room to wait.

One at a time jurors were called to sit in the witness stand and be questioned. In Massachusetts, only the judge may ask questions of the juror. Based on the answers given the prosecution and defense counsels accept or reject you. Most of the questions I was asked surrounded the pronunciation of my first name, as well as verification that I was employed and that I had no criminal record.

Shortly after leaving the room, I was told that I had been accepted as a juror.

A Brief Rambling on the Efficacy of Exercise, Obama and Perseverance

This week has been pretty crazy for me. I took on a project last Friday in a consulting role, and somehow by Monday had become the owner of the project; the building of an Access db to track employee training. It initially seemed simple, and by late Monday morning, I was pretty sure I could get it done by end of day. By Monday afternoon however scope creep had attacked, and what I thought was going to be simple had ballooned into a monstrosity that had to be geared toward an audience who was not Excel/Access proficient.

I spent 12 hours a day working on it for most of this week. Initially I was cursing my luck, but now sitting here on Friday afternoon on the verge of completion I am feeling a solid sense of accomplishment for pushing myself.

Between crossfit and biking I am starting to look and feel the way I want to. I had really forgotten how much fun it is to have an activity that you are always motivated to do. Skiing was the exception for a long time, but with snow fall sucking most of the last 5 years, it's gotten harder. Being on either the Mountain Bike or the Road Bike though feels great. Especially now that I have the right gear and the right protection.

Lastly, the last few weeks have been an amazing vindication for me and my belief that Obama can be a great president. No, I am not happy about his proposal to allow off shore drilling, and no I don't think that either health care reform, or the proposed financial reform will go far enough but what has been done (and undone) from when he took the reins from W. is very respectable.

In the last few weeks he has gotten health care through, strengthened title 9, created a nuclear treaty that will halve the number of nukes, visited Afghanistan and pushed an agenda for Financial Reform that looks like it will pass.

Road Rash

I put the road bike down for the first time this weekend and it came as a pretty big shock. Since I started getting back into biking I've been in a cloud of happiness and invincibility. This woke me back up to the fact that YES - what I do can have consequences.

I came into a corner I love to take fast not remembering that things are slippery when wet. Next thing I new I was skidding over gravel on my ass and palms. I didn't get too hurt, but my hands and ass look like hamburger.

Moral of the story I have started wearing my helmet. I also got kick ass gloves with carbon fiber knuckles. They make me feel like a terminator.

It's Over Before it Begins

It’s been almost four weeks since I changed the direction of my life and it’s been gut wrenching. How do I apologize for doing something I had to do? How do I move on? Like a bad trip that won’t end, the time I’ve been apart from Meg has felt both compressed and eternal. There is no up. There is no down. There is no gravity. I am lost and the Blair Witch is chasing me.

Holy fucking metaphors.

As with most things is my life, the pathway to healing has been fraught with contradictions. I’ve been on my bike or in the gym every day. I’ve also been fighting battles with my liquor cabinet that leave no winners and no survivors.

The sun still manages to show its face everyday though. Works been great and the project I am managing starting to get real traction. I’ve been meeting people and spending more time with old friends.

I just can’t shake the feeling of dread that this is the new normal, that she’ll find someone better than me, that it was all my fault, that I wasted three years of my life and that I’ll be alone forever.

Drink R&D Lab

Last night was the first hot night of spring. I made plans to go on a hookah picnic/bike ride with a friend after work and in preparation I made some roadies. I picked up some new booze last week at the NH liquor store and I have developed some tasty new summer concoctions.

Monk In the Orchard
2 Parts Stoli Gala Applik
1/2 part Frangelico Hazelnut Liquor
Shake with ice and server as a martini or shot.


Boris in Fiji
1 Part Stoli Gala Applik
1 Part Malibu Pineapple Flavored Rum
2 Parts Sprite
Serve on the Rocks

The Longest Day

This weekend I went to Vermont for some sunshine and to bask in the restorative qualities of cheese. On more or less all fronts it was a resounding success. Ryan is back early from the freestyle circuit after a frustrating injury, Mike had some time off from the hospital and Scott was flush with victory after finally securing a job in Burton's R&D lab that involves benefits.

We played some mini golf, drank some beers and generally had a great time.

I was almost kicked out of a bar for the building and successful deployment of paper airplanes.

The only hitch in the weekend came when I tried to leave. At some point my keys were abducted so I was stuck. I searched for them for 4 hours on Sunday to no avail... didn't bother me that much though it meant another night in VT waiting for the dealership to open the next morning.

The dealer couldn't get my car started however. At some point my car had the ignition swapped so they couldn't cut new keys. That left me with the choice of spending $150-400 on a lock smith or making the drive back to Boston to get my spares.

I spent 12 hours yesterday making the drive back and forth. Wasn't so bad though. the weather was nice and it provided some good contemplative time.

Ahh, the power of cheese.

Personal Update: Kenny Loggins Edition

After nearly three years together (with some time apart) Meg and I have gone our separate ways. It still feels earth shattering to have gotten to a point where it was clear things just were not to be. We have a lot in common, but in the end I think we may have been too similar and hard headed to ever really come to a peaceful co-existence. Things came to an end as amicably as possible, and I think there is hope that at some point down the line there could be a salvageable friendship.

For now though all I can really do is mourn what we had and hope for a brighter day.

I leave you with this:

Transformers 2: Things Transform

From time to time I worry that I am kind of a joyless douche. I mean, I’ve taken 2 film classes,watch maybe 2 movies a week, yet somehow I have a smug sense of entitlement to shit on movies and music that many, many people enjoy without a shred of self-conscious irony.

I know that my taste and my preferences and unduly influenced because of the Curios Case of Benjamin Button. Having read no reviews, and being the first among my friends to see it I enjoyed it. I didn’t think it was great, I saw the Forrest Gump parallels, but I liked it. When I watched TCCOBB I had a rare personal glimpse into the perspective most movie goers have – an untainted chance to decide for themselves whether or not they have been entertained or wasted hours of their life.

It is with this in mind that I made a good faith effort to watch Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen with two people who were genuinely excited to see it and one person who had already seen it three times. As part of this good faith effort I had no choice but to get wrecked; as a result there may be some small gaps in my recollection.

I fucking hate this movie. It is absurd. It is insulting. It is almost three hours long. It is racist. It lingers on robot testicles for what seems like days. Worst of all, half of its fucking running time is dedicated to things transforming.

The movie opens following up pretty much exactly where the last one left off. Che TheBeef is being sent off to college an

Seriously fuck this.

This movie is an abomination against man, god and machine. Never watch it. Or the third own, which this movie goes out of its way to setup.

I leave you with transformer balls.

Fired Up - Abysmal Comedy or Al-Qaeda Recruiting Video?

Yesterday I watched the US v. Canada Olympic Hockey Game. It was a nail biter of a game that had me on the edge of my seat (and drinking may way through many a beer). When the smoke settled from the game everyone there was feeling really bummed, and in need of some cheering up. The kids whose house we were at are massive fans of "Fired Up" and I was in no state to protest.

Disclaimer: The kids who wanted to watch the movie know it is a bad movie. I know it is a bad movie, and soon you will come to an understanding of how bad of a movie it is. I do want to convey though dear reader, that despite the terrible things I am about to tell you, it is a bad movie that has occasional moments that provoke genuine laughs. If you're in the right state of mind with a high enough BAC, give it a watch. If not that do not even fucking think about it.

The movie opens with two dudes getting ready to slay a couple of hotties, and then forced to flee when the dads of the hotties arrive home unexpectedly. The two dudes evade the angry dads with amazing prowess and athletic skill, escaping conveniently into a pool party full of hotter hotties. This opening scene is pretty much the movie in a nut shell, and you really may as well give up here. Aside from a long pair of breasts later in the film, you have seen all the movie has to offer.

Still with us? Fine.

In what is definitely the funniest aspect of the movie the two dudes we see in the first scene turn out to be in High School. Seriously, they look like they are 30. We find out that they are football stars and that they must go to football camp. They decide that rather than go to Football camp they will go to cheer leading camp, where they will use the odds to their favor (because they were really only playing football to get laid anyway).

Yeah, you can figure out the rest.

I don't really feel like writing more about it, except to say this. There is a large part of me that thinks that the movie was created as an Al Qaeda recruiting tool. This movie represents everything they hate about America. There is a terrible plot that could have been lifted from an unambitious porno. There are "beav-wranglers" who are inexplicably the object of female adoration. There is a surprisingly tolerant view of gays. And most infuriatingly there is a movie which never fucking makes an effort to break beyond a terrible cliched story arc, a comedy make more than a half assed attempt at making a joke and a "raunchy sex comedy" which even in the unrated version bothers to show anything you couldn't find in Sports Illustrated.

Come on Fired Up... be something.

Exactly what you expect to happen happens. The dudes hook up with lots of girls and began to feel remorse. They begin to take cheer leading seriously and one of them falls for the one girl he can't have. The girl he can't have is dating a college douche. They betray their team and leave to hang out with their football team. The feel guilty, come back and redeem themselves getting laid and respected by the teem they let down. They learn a lesson or something?

I take back what I said before. This movie really is dreck. I will include some stray observations that amused me or made me angrier:

-The douche bag boyfriend is made more douchey by the fact that every time he is shown, he is in the midst of listening to a 90's hit including, Tubthumping, Breakfast at Tiffany's and Jump, Jive, Bend and Wail and Ricky Martin. Actually kind of funny.

-There is a touching lesbian sub plot which manages to be down right sensitive, and goes unused for jokes.

-The term "Beav-Wrangler" is used as if it is something people say.

-The bro party the dudes go to features a ground beef ball fight

-You can always tell a bad male character has progressed emotionally when he is willing to sleep with a girl with small breasts.

-Like "Dude Where's my Car?" was a stoner comedy without drugs or alcohol, this is a sex comedy where sex is only hinted at.

Like I said, if the right set of stars aligned, this movie could be watchable. Do not attempt it sober though, or if you have even moderate expectations.

Also, no matter how much it infuriates you, try not to join Al Qaeda.

Boston Scientific Top Gun School

Last week, on the Q4 investor conference call the CEO of Boston Scientific announced (in further proof of the corporate world's love of military imagery) that this year we will be starting a Top Gun school for promising people across the organization. Ideal Top Gun candidates have a track record of success, perseverance in the face of adversity and a willingness to be relocated with little notice. They will get training, exposure and assignments in the most high risk - high reward parts of the business.

When it was announced I was excited, and my first thought was how much I wanted in. The program I am in now has given me some great challenges and visibility, but Top Gun sounds like it would give me the chance to excel beyond the world of IS. On the other hand, as someone who already feels like the corporate world requires sacrifices, I don't know if getting in deeper is what I really want or need.

I would love:

The challenge

The recognition

The travel

The money

The pace

The stress

Putting "Top Gun" on my resume (maybe tattoos if the other fellas were in)

I would resent:

Missing pieces of my life

Waiting indefinitely to get a dog

Cold silent glares from Meg

Skiing less than 10 days a year

Getting into the program would be a big challenge unto itself, so for now this is all a pretty academic exercise. It's just one more siren song of the corporate world.

A Crisis of Masculinity

If you watched last nights Superbowl, or just youtubed the commercials, you may have noticed a pattern emerging. Among the ads with sexy women touting or being attracted by products was a series of ads saying America men are a nation of pussy whipped homos, or in one case, it's ok to be a pussy whipped homo as long as you have 3 kids to prove other wise.

Call it a crisis of masculinity.

If Madison Avenue is to be believed, American men are on the verge of losing their last shred of dignity and all they can hope for is to hold on to dear life to that shred with a slew of products which will define them as men.

With women outnumbering men in the workplace, and gender roles continuing to evolve perhaps this was a long time coming. Perhaps it is simply the hangover from a decade of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.

Advertising has found an age old male insecurity and taken it to a new level.

In case you missed them, I've included Video

Dodge Charger - Man's Last Stand



In this ad (by far my favourite) men are shown as saps and house pets who endure the brutal ordeal of basic civility and hygene so their nagging women tolerate them to have an impractical car. Until the end it has a fairly good natured tone, and the use of Dexter (Michael C Hall) for voice works reminds us that we as men are perhaps all putting on a bit of a show to get what we really want.

Dove - Finally You're Comfortable With Who You Are



This ad perhaps really bothers me the most. What I get from it is "Hey, you have three kids and a wife. You can finally stop using a body wash that smells like air freshener without people thinking you are gay".

While this message is not blatant, the ending line about "finally being comfortable enough" suggests to me that the poor man in this commercial has spent his life in a gay panic.

A part of me believes that this poor man is living a lie.

Dockers - Wear the Pants



This ad is a bit retarded, and its placement next to a careerbuilder.com also featuring pantless middle aged men made it all the more bizarre.

This ad has a simpler message - If you are not wearing the pants you look foolish. Dockers will make you a man!

The truth sadly is that Dockers will make you dressed appropriately for a BBQ and will do little for your relationships.


Flo TV - His Girlfriend has Removed his Spine



By far the dumbest ad, this ad draws the line of masculinity at being able to watch live sports. Shopping all day with your girlfriend may be the price you pay for love in this ad, but it seems like a bit of a stretch to think that a portable TV will make the cliche mess we watch unfold work itself out.

Resparking a sexual relationship with a women who wants your attention bad enough to take you lingerie shopping will make you feel like more of a man, not watching a fucking mini TV.

As the cherry on top of the dumbness of this ad, are the makers of FLO TV unaware of something called the iPhone, or merely hopeful that their customers will be?

Shelter From the Storm

The last few weeks have been a bit rough at work. Not coincidentally, I have been developing two new drinks in order to take Shelter from the Storm.

The Masshole Skier
1 Cup hot chocolate made with whole milk and Ghirardelli mix
1 Shot Frangelico
3 Shots Bailey's Irish Cream Mint

The Closeted Kentuckian
4 Shots Maker's Mark on the rocks
1 Small splash Pama pomegranate liquor

Steve Jobs is getting fucking lazy

As a dork I had waited with a small amount of anticipation for the last month as rumors circled about a new Apple Product. Tech blogs proclaimed it the "Jesus device" and dozens of fake leakers said they had basked in its magnificent glory.

What did it end up being? A big iPhone. Except you can't make calls on it or use standalone GPS.

Or if you look at it another way - the worst fucking netbook ever... questionable flash support, no camera, no real operating system, no support for multitasking, a bite sized 1mhz chip and no ability to download none Apple applications. Oh, and no USB/Firewire/video ports so no adding anything useful or using it as a business tool for presentations.

Or maybe is it a eBook reader then? Well sort of, in that you can download books on it, and then read them with the same difficulty you would have reading a book online. Unlike 80% of other eBooks though it also does not have free wireless access.

There are a few cool things you could do with it for sure. It seems like a great first computer for a little kid or an elderly person. If you had money to burn, it would make a cool add on to your home stereo.

At a starting price of $500 for the stripper model and $830 for one with 64mb memory and AT&T wireless access this seems like nothing more than a toy for Apple completists. In a world with a lot of toys and 10% unemployment I think Steve Jobs may have gone one toke over the line with this one.

Tiptoes: "You mean the one with mini Gary Oldman" edition

A hint that you have found a movie that's so bad it's good (as opposed to just sucking) comes when you describe the plot of the movie in a few sentences, and then follow it with "which was given a $40+ million dollar budget". In the case of Tiptoes, I feel my method was once again proven correct, but my roommate Matt felt it was total garbage so I'll let you decide for you.

Her goes - Matthew McConnaghey and Kate Beckinsale get engaged when Kate finds out she is pregnant. She soon learns all of Matt McCs family are dwarfs meaning that her child may be a dwarf. Fortunately Matt's dwarf twin, played by a miniaturized Gary Oldman takes her on a journey to show her the wonderful love filled world of the dwarf community.

And yes it had a big budget.

Normally I would post a scene or a trailer at this point. Sadly, this movie seems to have cruised under the radar of the youtube community, and the trailer simply tries too hard to promote a movie which does not at all resemble the film it is promoting.

This will have to suffice for now:

This heart warming film opens with mini Gary Oldman and actually small Peter Dinklage rippind down the highway on motorized tricycles in full biker gear. Dinklage picks up a skank from the side of the road who plays the part of the movies super free spirited women. You can call this is the part she is playing because she is dressed from head to toe in gold, she has braids and also a guitar.

A mere jump cut away are Matt and Kate. Kate is also a free spirited women (we know this because she paints) and Matt is a Fire fighter. There is tension in the household however because Matt will not introduce Kate to her family. We soon find out that this is because Matt's entire family is dwarfs (well dwarfs and mini tricycle riding Gary Oldman.)

Moments after this revelation we find out that Kate is pregnant with Matt's baby (and still oblivious of the dwarf situation). Kate and Matt agree to get married, but Matt has to leave for a while to go to Fire Fighter camp. In his absence mini Gary Oldman (mGO from now on) pays Kate a visit. He has just been beat up by a security guard while defending the honor of what looked like mini Gwen Stefani (mGS from now on) who is the love of his life. mGO reveals Matt's terrible secret and Kate is crestfallen.

This is where things get weird, and I explaining chronologically no longer makes sense. The film was edited down from 3 hours to 90 minutes, and in this process all continuity went out the window.

-Peter Dinklage is a French dwarf Marxist and morphine addict. For most of the movie he is drunk and swearing at things. We are treated to a sex scene with him and the free spirited skank. His favorite way to get hammered is with purple drink.

-When Kate confronts Matt about his midget secret she spouts VERY believable lines like: "I'm not made, I'm just bewildered.:

-For sometimes 10 minutes at a shot the movie abandons plot almost entirely in favor for dialog that sounds like it's from a pharmaceutical ad: i.e. "You never know what to expect when you have a baby midget, so you need to talk to your doctor about complications and a proper type of medication."

-A fictional R&B singer and dwarf ally throws a party for his dwarf pals where dwarf frolic freely drinking and partying. We are treated to the singer having sex with mini Gwen Stefani (which breaks mGO's heart). They have sex in an all glass pool house and are somehow surprised when they are caught.

-Kate and Matt have a heart to heart about growing up among the dwarfs and the following conversation takes place

Kate: "Where you ever sexually involved with a midget?"

Matt: "Sometimes when I was 12 a bunch of us would play doctor together, but nothing serious."

Kate:"Great. A circle jerk with a bunch of little people. I would have loved to have seen that."

From there things happen predictably and quickly. Matt and Kate embrace the world of dwarfism, get married and have a dwarf baby inexplicably delivered by a dwarf doctor. But all is not well. Matt is unhappy with their dwarf child and asks for a separation.

TWISTED AGAIN MOTHER FUCKER

With his larger brother being an indecisive douche mGO swoops in and steals McCoughney's wife and child.

They live happily ever after in a cabin in the woods or something. (Mercifully I was pretty drunk at this point)

So, is this movie watchable? Yes, kind of. After the initial laughter from mGO wear off, the only real pleasure comes from the dialog. In other words it takes a certain level of concentration just to mock this terribly edited monster. If I ever own a cool club with a giant projector though, I would definitely play this movie silently above the dance floor as a strange sight for my tripping patrons.