Very Mythbusters. But what else would you expect from the company that pays it’s employees to spend 20% of their time on personal projects? Clearly, the next James Cameron is hidden somewhere on the Adsense team.

Not to be outdone, Opera pulls no punches. Those Norwegians have a competitive fire nothing short of total domination can quell.

You know, as another shmoe in the web development arena, I’ve given Opera a bad wrap. In the midst of running enterprise websites, the credo I’ve subscribed to has been:

1. Does it look good in IE?
2. Does it look good in Firefox?
3. Does it not absolutely blowup in IE6?
4. Does it resemble a webpage in Safari? (Can be verified up to 2 years after deployment)
5. Does the page show up in Opera? (Optional)

As for Chrome, well yeah, developers drool over how fast it is. I mean, separate threads per tab! How great is that?

But, settle down for a second Chrome. Version 5, and you still don’t interpret XML? Aren’t you the guys that tell me the closest address to a one legged voodoo chiropractor, show me his home, and give me RSS feeds to all of his online accounts? Couldn’t you figure out a way to parse XML for our sake?

So Chrome has beaten most at loading Facebook, but Opera has sneaked onto mobile devices everywhere and even shows up on my Wii, whether I like it or not. I might be wooed by Chrome’s lean appeal, but frankly, when Firefox chokes on its last plugin and IE14 comes in to do what IE1 through 13 did not, I’m thinking I’ll check out the Norwegian guys.

Opera, you got moxie.

http://www.sitepoint.com/blogs/2010/05/31/opera-faster-than-a-potato/

A great little piece from the Twitter whale lady!

Let’s take a look at it’s specs real quick like:

1. Monthly bill (for quality AT&T service)
2. No USB port (without adapter sold separately)
3. No GPS or camera (two things that make the iPhone awesome)
4. No multi-tasking (Windows 95 spoiled us)
5. All apps must come through approved iTunes channel
6. No Flash
7. A few other honorable mentions

Bottom line, the iPad is a slick looking, highly sought after, questionably useful (useless) internet appliance. On the plus side, one has to applaud Apple for pushing the envelope. That’s something the other American tech companies don’t appear to be in the business of (with all of Microsoft’s chips seemingly in on XBox). Apple is good at making slick things. Look past the price tag and don’t examine beyond the surface, it’s a cool looking piece of high tech “stuff”.

Even if the iPad is arguably neat fluff, it does some good for the computer industry, which continues to lean on conventions developed almost 30 years ago. True, it’s not exactly what one could call astounding - it’s Taco Bell technology. Take LCD screens, solid state hard drives, WIFI, 3G, boom. You got an iPad. But, it’s a configuration not traveled yet. And with the cult of Mac, you have an instant classic, earned or otherwise.

And along came everyone else…

Later this year, you’ll start seeing the Android tablets come along (like this one). They’ll match the iPad, learn from it’s missteps, and cost much less. Anyone that would have held out on the iPad that long will have a new threat to their frugal senses. Mac will respond by reminding you how cool it is to be a Mac owner, and by then it’ll have it’s new strategy for `11.

There’s just one difference: the iPad’s competitors will support Flash. At least they’d better.

By building walls around their fortress of cool, controlling which apps make it in and which are banished from ever seeing use, Apple has bucked a major platform for rich media, Adobe Flash. Steve Jobs’ arguments are really meaningless – it’s all very strategic for Apple, the rest is for PR sake. Yeah, Flash can be a memory hog, yeah it’s heavier to download Flash apps… but all the HTML 5 glory in the world won’ t do what Flash does.

It’d be one thing if Flash was in it’s infancy, but we’re several iterations into Flash, and now advertising, gaming, secure GUI’s, multimedia presentations and web conferencing have blossomed on the platform. Saying “no” to Flash (which the world has had 2 months to digest by now, so granted it’s old news) is a pretty risky chess move (one folks are actually getting around).

Ultimately, Mac is just reinforcing it’s app niche. Google wants the same with Android apps, as Blackberry should for it’s apps and Palm for it’s.  In the end, we’ll be left with the new market of mobile appliances, running on proprietary tracks of applications. Developers will have to choose.

And those clever bastards at Apple are probably going to stand strong. They got the cults, they got the “small corner of the software store” appeal, and as long as they maintain both, a healthy amount of people will continue to pay twice the price for a little white fruit on their device.

The Future of “pads”

Tablets aren’t new. Neither are smart phones (AKA, PDA phones). But people are lazy, and laptops could become not mobile enough for ubiquitous computing. And with more and more folks willing to take on $100 a month to access Facebook and Google maps everywhere they go, Tablets could end up their new passport. They try to reach that realm between the convenience of smart phones and the usability of laptops, and it could work.

I ain’t an ardent critic or psychic of the industry, but we’re due for a change. Software doesn’t really sell from stores any more, people don’t rely on the home desktop as much anymore, and folks are becoming acquainted with doing almost all their computing over an Internet connection. We’ll see where it goes, but chances are there’s more pads to come.

“When I listed my favorite Acapello groups, sports teams, bank routing and account numbers, the names of all my family members and how to build a dirty bomb from a home pregnancy test, I never though any of it would be used to target me with advertising! How sick!”

So Facebook now has to pump the breaks. Their head guy Mark Zuckerberg does a mea culpa and says they’ll make it easier to share less. But then, he expresses the Facebook anthem once again, that the core of this social media movement is people’s urge to share more info with the world, and that this core drive is what makes social media work, not secrecy.

This is quaint. I’m sure there’s a segment of the internet, fearless next-gener’s that don’t mind telling all their deepest to Google, Twitter and the wayback machine, but let’s be honest about what really makes Facebook work.

Social Media is just another soapbox.

Anyone that’s spent enough time on Facebook – and you can record it in minutes – knows you’re either enamored with the though of telling the world about your overly detailed and commonplace life, or quickly annoyed by the sea of folks who are.  Just like blogging (speak of the devil), it’s an instant forum to speak at the world. What’s so great about Social Media is with ubiquitous Wifi, broadband and mobile connections, it’s incredibly easy to use these forums.

No doubt, there’s a momentary charm of telling old college friends your married or showing them pictures of your children, but the notion that this represents some greater public urge to break the walls of privacy and tell everyone everything is self-serving hubris. Facebook doesn’t change human nature, though it does sometimes reveals aspects of it you wish you didn’t have witness.

I’m not saying there’s no place for Facebook. I have an account, and I like how it connects me with old friends across the world, but it’s not a great leap forward in my mind. This was the appeal of writing letters – they’re short, sweet, and skip out on the things you don’t need, like knowing what I had for breakfast or how much the guy in front of me at Arby’s looks like Jim Belushi.

Social Media is cheap

I won’t rag on using the Internet as a soapbox either, especially via my own Internet soapbox. I will say is that Social Media soapboxes are cheap. I’m no novelist (as much as I love the thought), but with 140 characters being the standard of most “bursts”, it invites some of the most meaningless, half-baked, esoteric partial-thoughts to be shared with all.

Think about Neil Armstrong’s first steps on the Moon. Now imagine he had mobile service and an iPhone handy (fantasy, I know – AT&T hardly reaches major metropolitan areas, but stay with me). You think he would have tweeted something like “wow – just stepped on da moon. crazy day – check out my pics http://bit.ly/bDlUlY“? How about if the Continental Congress messaged the Declaration of Independence to King George via Facebook? Kinda cheapens the moment, even robs it all of respect, doesn’t it?

Of course, this cheapness may have it’s place. Would have been nice to see a Tweet from Paul Revere rather than requiring a 40 mile horse ride at 2 in the morning. Even better, to be able to see the building pattern of tweets coming out of Concord about “red coats”.  And outside of my twisted sense of “what-if” history and butchered grade school history knowledge, the intelligent mining of large social media data blobs can lead to some more meaningful trending. Of course, it’s typically done on more meaningful participants, like traders, executives and dealers on Wall Street, or the members of the `86 Mets team. Gary Carter, you are my rock.

In short, I think Social Media is really the immediate,  tip of the tongue, hastily blurted monologues of the world. You won’t see borders broken or revolutions started by tweets. But you can piece together the unfiltered mind of the Internet from a mainline connection to a world of texting addicts. Half of them have atrocious grammar and written skills, but like it or not, people have lots to say. All. The. Time.

No, it doesn’t mean we want passports to a utopia where privacy is outmoded (Mark). We just like saying stuff. Some of us say more than others. Perhaps I’ve said too much.

Dad was born a serious man, and by 50 most of his youthful personality traits were shadowed by the tough exterior of career machinist. There wasn’t a lot of running around the park with our Dad; if he didn’t lack the energy, he lacked the disposition. Though he’s had plenty of moments of “kibitzing” around the house, he generally wasn’t playful. We’ve always known him better as the disciplinarian – or as I addressed him during my military life, “The First Sergeant.”

When we left high school and the folks moved to Pittsburgh, Dad slowed down to enjoy his well earned retirement. His salt and pepper mustache gave way to silver, and his glasssed became a more permanent fixture. In my adults years, he’s become less mobile, and more accustomed to spending the day typically seated at our ktichen table or in his “operations center” – a room he built down stairs in the town home basement where his computer, TV and CB radio are all within reach.

After I’d moved to Georgia in 2004, I’d lost track of my usual picture of Dad in his setting. So it was a visual stir to see him wheeled in a chair to the arrivals lobby of Atlanta airport during their late 2008 visit. He was pushed to our location in a courtesy wheelchair by a friendly airport attendant. He’d given me a heads up prior to the trip about his declining ability to walk distances, but the visual at the time was striking.

Two years later, a similar airport welcome and my father was even more chair bound, this time requiring escort all the way to terminal’s exit. Things weren’t looking good. He was 75.

This year, it became clear to his heart specialist something needed to be done. It was roughly 8 years prior that his first visit to Dr. Rocco revealed poor blood circulation and subsequent treatment that likely extended his life by most likely a decade. This time, his heart was clearly the culprit. After a battery of tests to make certain operation was necessary, all signs indicated a valve (or valves) in his heart was almost completely non-functional.

Tests performed, a date was set. He’d get a pig’s heart valve (or valves) 3 days after his 76th birthday.

My family has always leaned both pragmatically and optimistically. My Mom knew that were this 30 years prior, this could easily be my Dad’s last hospital visit, and that in today’s environment valve transplants were almost as common as hair follicle transplants. Her and I collectively focused on the 85% good of the matter, while the 15% fret ate her up inside. My brother also fairs more concerned in these types of family risks, so for him it was probably 30% fretting.

Around 5am, May 17th, we all Kovats’ met at hospital and welcomed my Dad to his cot. We hugged good bye, and he was off.

And we waited…

On the other side of the day, after a full afternoon of barely keeping up with my Mom’s brisk conversation pace (where I get my chattiness from), we get the heads up that a doctor will speak with us shortly. It’d been 8 hours since his entry to OR, and we were definitely getting both tired and antsy. Another nurse called us into a “discussion room” without any ominous air. Dr. Park was next. He walked in, and started with a cursory “He’s alright.”

The rest felt like the rundown you get at Jiffy Lube: smooth, dry and curt. This wasn’t a disappointment by any means; I’d been more concerned if he had lots to say and struggled through the details, troubled with emotion. “He’s got a lot of calcification. We had to do five bypasses and replaced the aortic valve, but the others were good.” It was so matter of fact, Mom and I searched for remaining concerns but felt like he’d allayed them all. We went home and waited for the next chance to check in on Dad.

The Next Morning

We got to the hospital a few hours before my flight back to Atlanta. We finagled our way in before visiting hours, and there he was. He wasn’t a visual shock; just a man in a hospital bed with a lot of tubes in him and gauze on his chest. Well, and a healthy dose of morphine, of course. He greeted us with a measured version of his usual boisterous “hello,” and it was a welcome sight.

Dad’s good, and it’s amazing how commonplace tinkering with his ailing heart has become. After the operation, a lot of folks shared their own stories about elder family members who got new heart parts. In fact, back at the hospital, I saw a lot of old people; they showed patient birthdays on the waiting board, and most the folks were Baby Boomers.

So, the take away, my dad needed a tune up and got it. And at 76, the same age as my grandmother, his mom, when she lost her life in the hospital after a broken hip, Dad’s getting a new lease on life. And even if it’s not another 20 years, at least when the soreness dies down, he’ll be the full-on, abrasive, overbearing Pollack we love and remember.

(feel free to skip)
I was a husky kid. Didn’t take to sports much, ate big meals, and was sort of over sized kid most my childhood – height and weight. So it wasn’t until I was 11 before I ran more than 1 block without stopping. Several years later, I ran more than a mile for the first time to enter the Marine Corp “poolie” program. Bootcamp is where I discovered that I’m not too bad at running, and my time in Arizona pushed me to the furthest limits I’d ever seen on the trail. 6 miles was a normal day, 4 was short. Our farewell PT with SSgt Pulling was 11 miles – and we had no idea which turn or stretch would be our last the entire way.

After the military, I just used running to balance out my beer drinking. Casual smoking made it tougher for 6 years, but that didn’t hold me back during drill weekends with the Naval Reserve in Ft. Meade. Some days I’d light up a cigarette as soon as I stepped off the track.

These days, as an out of shape father and proud overweight American…

…I don’t take much to running with regularity. My time is precious: morning routine, kids, work, dinner, kids, kids, bedtime routine, XBox / beer / DVR, sleep… repeat. The best efficiency experts in the world couldn’t wedge more into this schedule – it’s airtight! However, my hat is off to anyone that maintains a healthy exercise regimen. It’s downright admirable – moderately, but nevertheless worth admiration. Different strokes for different folks, right?

My only qualm with the chronically fitness-minded is specifically with new converts and weekend warriors that preach it like gospel. You know the ones – they won’t stop talking about their workouts before, during and afterward in the locker room. Their social networking status reflects every new event, every sprain or sore leg, every new challenge and high end purchase they make in the pursuit of performance.

Leave it on the field

Fitness can create a level of fanaticism that rivals parenting, religion, and even the TV series Lost. I understand it’s your world right now, and that friends around you should support you in whatever makes you happy.  I’m not threatened by how much you can squat or the triathlons you’ve been in. I applaud your golf game, parkour abilities and ultimate frisbee skills.

But, the fact is, like the new dad that forces a steady regimen of baby photos on every friend, acquaintance and innocent bystander, the world is not that interested in your stuff. As an 8 year old you could demand your mother’s attention and approval when doing a cannonball at the public pool, but as an adult there’s a much smaller demographic willing to cheer and awe at your cardiovascular and anaerobic achievements. Kudos to you, but leave it on the field.

This can easily be an analogy for religion as well. You ever met a devote religious person who doesn’t say an unsolicited word about Christ to others? Aren’t they one of life’s treasures? I think so. Because for every Christian who’s quietly confident in their spiritual path, there seems to be ten others who are yelling out loud and annoying a lot of folks with their insecurities. Because, would you really spend your day trying to convince others about “the Good Word” if you were entirely convinced yourself? Just rings of compensation, I guess.

I digress. Competition with oneself is a great pursuit, one best kept between the participant, and… the participant. And if ESPN or Sports Illustrated decides to start following you along the way, you’ll have the audience you so richly deserve. Until then, you can spare me and others the personal thrill of inline skating that you alone understand. If you run a 5K or 10K, Kudos! But let my cursory “oh, that’s cool” signify that while I support your endeavors, I’m not ready to join your fan club.

Beating a dead horse…

So I feel I drove that one home a bit strong. I’m not as thrown by overly zealous fitness buffs as I sound, just the notion of someone who’s so driven in their own pursuits they lose perspective on how it’s received by others. It certainly beats a lot of things. Like a conversation about legalizing Marijuana. That’s right up there with alternate endings to World War II for me.

…for 3.1 miles

But, I did want to at least give fitness buffs a fair shake before I completely wrote them off. So, I signed up for a 5K run.

First, I do so with fairly good confidence in my abilities. I ain’t the springy Lance Corporal I used to be, but I still do a jaunty amble around the neighborhood from time to time. Second, I was really banking on American obesity. I figured since guys my age start packing on the pounds, my odds would be pretty good.

Driving up the to starting point, I was quickly disappointed by the crowd I saw. A whole lot more of decent runners and a lot less of the fat ones. I thought, “First Al Gore fails me, now you Morgan Spurlock. Great.” But no one heard me. And the clever reference was lost.

We were told to get there early. This meant yawning for 45 minutes off to the side of a crowd full of stretching, jumping, sprinting Livestrong bracelet and t-shirt wearers. Half the crowd had MP3 players in tow. I thought the notion silly since it was only a 20-30 minute run, but the wait proved them the more prepared.

Finally, folks signalled the start of the festivities, and 800 people swarmed to the street. I picked a place around the 2/5ths mark of the crowd, not knowing if I’d be trampled by superior athletes the moment the siren went off. Things went green, and we trotted away. I started edging around some, then found stuck behind others. What’s the courteous thing to do in an amorphous horde? Pushing didn’t seem appropriate.

On the stretch back, I began sprinting. Way. Too. Soon. As I was dying, others began to sprint. The bastards. It was high time for tripping fun, but again, didn’t seem courteous. I made it through the finish line, got a little piece of paper, meandered around a little, got some water, thought about my daily horoscope, and then started to fill out the tiny form I was holding. When I got to the field that said “time“, I drew a blank. I peeked back at the finish line, and noticed for the first time the huge ass yellow time clock that was tracking everyone’s time. Doh! So, I saw it reading 26 minutes or so, and figured I’d been putzing around for about 2 minutes, so put down 25:00 even to be fair. Fair sucks.

My 5K take away

It was nice, the free pancakes were good, but overall, the best part of the whole thing was the free T shirt. Outside of that, it just felt like I’d paid $20 to do something I’d done for free many other days before. Anna was pleased I liked it and teased me about the many more I’d sign up for in the future, but in all honesty, it really ain’t a big deal for me. It was fun, but the long meandering romps through our neighborhood at 5am are more my bag than these 800 runner charity things.

So for the last time, fitness freaks, I can see the allure, but I think I’ll just half ass this one and stick to my horrible diet and penchant for beer.

But, to start from the beginning, it’s pretty well established those fumes pillowing out of coal stacks and tail pipes aren’t great for the environment. If you’re still not sold on this wild idea, take a look at Mexico City.

A serene look at one of the world's largest collections of vehicles.

So, it’s not a far stretch to consider if thousands of factories and millions of cars could turn the skylines of Mexico City, LA, or Shanghai into a brown haze, that the same pollutants could be bad for our climate. Doesn’t take a crack team of scientists to tell you noxious fumes are bad.

Which they did. The U.S. National Academy of Sciences and the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) - both large groups of internationally recognized scientists – have both ruled human activities are causing surface temperatures to rise globally, and that an overall “global warming” is very likely.

So, if it strikes a chord with common sense, it’s backed by the scientific community, and it’s prevention helps keep our global home looking its greenest, who could possibly want to argue against the ill-effects of carbon pollution?

The Critics

There’s actually a strong crowd of folks who say it’s all a big hoax. Some are legitimate scientists with alternate theories, but most are American conservative taintledinks like Glenn Beck and fans of said taintledinks who haven’t been the same since Al Gore was awarded an Oscar and the Nobel Peace price. Their view goes like this: environmentalism is a hoax cooked up to create an artificial industry of green products and restrict progress for leading world corporations through emissions capping legislation. It’s part "you're just a bunch of Marxist, anti-corporation folks" paired with "you're creating an industry... for other corporations to cash in on!"

And of course, no stranger to denying widely accepted science (for example, the three Republican Presidential candidates in `08 that didn’t believe in Evolution), these same folks reject all popular reasoning on climate change. "The Earth changes naturally" they say. "It goes through ebbs and flows, and climate change is what leads carbon saturation, not the other way around" they say. The viewpoint espoused by the “Earth is 6,000 years old” crowd is playing science with the big boys. No, I’m not convinced.

On the more level-headed side, some call to question the drastic predictions of an Inconvenient Truth. The two biggest points of the global warming hypothesis are:

1. How much will the globe warm in the next 100 years?
2. Is it man made?

Clearly, no one (aside from the most fervent voices on global warming, such as Al Gore) has said outright what exactly will happen in 100 years, only what could happen. It’s reasonable to ask how serious are the future consequences are, and what exact cause do they derive from.

Really though, why does this matter? If sea levels only rise 24 inches versus 24 feet in the next century, is this just a bummer for Atlantic city? Do we shrug it off to some unknown global phenomena and toss another tire on the fire? If it’s indeed not man made, wouldn’t piss-poor air quality and choking landfills still be our handywork? Overall, if eating right and exercising won’t guarantee you’ll live to see 100, does that give you license to bury your face in a bucket of trans-fats until your aorta seals shut?

The sober debate that’s missing

You’d think this isn’t a political issue, and you’d be both right and wrong. The facts of it needs to be analyzed scientifically, but the call to action requires political will. Unfortunately, scientists are good at thinking and politicians are not. And then taintledinks like Glenn Beck just confuse the issue with poo-flinging.

So the reality is we face, globally, a potential danger. It’s not Polar bears are drowning and Kevin Costner’s Waterworld becomes a reality, but it’s not the Earth can magically recover from any unbalance either. Clearly, something could happen in the next 100 years.

Let’s face facts: recycling and car pooling will only get us so far. Each year America wastes more than it did the last. This has not changed. It’d take a tremendous movement of reusable bags, compost heaps and hybrid vehicles to even break even the rate of waste we expunge into our environment, let alone halt it altogether. I don’t care how many “Green” themed events or Network television awareness weeks are scheduled, you will not guilt Americans out of their SUVs, just as you will not guilt Chinese factories out of prospering on plastic injection molded crap and zero environmental impact oversight. The world moves forward regardless.

Plus, we suck (with a capital S) at preventing future turmoil. If CNN had broadcasted the oncoming doom of the housing crisis back in `05, nothing would have changed – it would have just made people tell themselves "OK, I'll just make heaping gobs of money a little longer..."

So, to get legislation and awareness on reducing carbon emissions and prevent the potential catastrophes of a drowned future, it’d seem we need two things. First, focus on the present more. Stop selling the future no one is certain of, and bring focus to what the coal burning plants are doing to the atmosphere today. Nostradamus was great and all, but Al Gore isn’t the same thing, and we’re not going to buy into Cap and Trade just because of future risks even supportive scientists argue over.

And second, a Plan B. I’m talking a mole wood arc, 40 cubits long. You don’t even have to plan for capacity. Just build it out, and dock it on the pond between the Washington Monument and the Lincoln Memorial. It won’t serve much good, but it’ll freak people the hell out into considering rational thought.

Long story short, she had a few questionable firings in office, a few ethical complaints, and about half a million in legal debt. But, she showed courage and heart, and braved her way through the onslaught of evil politicians, changed the game, and now builds her fan base with regular spots on Fox News and $100,000 speaking engagements at Tea Party events.

She’s like Tina Turner, and the Liberal Media is Ike Turner. It’s exactly like that.

But, as much as I heart and admire Sarah, I have to say, Sarah, please don’t run for President in 2012. I care for you too much.

1. You’re frighteningly uninformed

You know how mean Fox News was to your opponents last election? Check out your coverage on your home turf.

You see? Some world Geography and knowledge of government is the kind of stuff that they expect from the person 4th graders have to memorize the name and title of. You can’t rely on Google in the White House.

2. You’re morbidly unprepared

Governor of Alaska is equivalent to Office of the Candyman. You run a state with the population of  Columbus, Ohio (4th smallest state in the Union) that gets 80% of it’s revenue from oil business. If a line of very fair questions for someone actively campaigning for the second highest office in the land can bring you to your knees, what makes you think you have the right stuff to be top dog?

You can’t answer every question with “freedom.” It’s not like ketchup – it isn’t always appropriate.

3. Most people remember #1 and #2

Even in clip 1 Shepard Smith has to recognize the Obama lead that resulted from clip 2, the Katie Couric interview. I know heartland Moms who get their news from chain emails and Nascar Dads who get their news from the Paladin Press are 100% behind you, but the rest of the curious country has some serious reservations about you. And you haven’t exactly quelled those concerns.

In a nutshell, you’re a frightening prospect given any amount of authority beyond, say, the Governorship of Alaska or perhaps a mayor of a town of 5,000.

And truly, running for President isn’t the “rogue” we all fell in love with. Stay Mavericky and away form those beltway politicians. Because we know you don’t have it in you to write another book to slam another failed campaign, or the constitution to survive quitting another elected office. You have too much good and comic relief to share with the “Real” America to see it all eviscerated during candidate debates in November, 2012 (where winking is frowned upon).

I heart you too much for that.

The experience is phenomenal. The 3D is crisp, colors remain unaltered – it’s just incredible. It’s the closest I’ve ever seen to being in the scene itself. Of course the CG of the film is top caliber as well. There’s tons of moments where you lose track of what’s real and what’s animated.  Facial expressions are so life like you often mistake the characters for actors in rubber suits.

In a nutshell, I can’t adequately describe how great the movie experience is. It’s two parts awesome to see a movie in that way, and awesome to see it with a movie like Avatar.

So what gets to me is the comment I’ve heard several times from various sources. “Avatar is just Dances with Wolves in Space.”

There’s two elements I feel are at play with this comment.

1. “I yawn at what everyone else likes.”

The appall of anything “mainstream” is one element I think that drives criticism for any artistic creation that receives too wide of an appeal. Music, art, movie and even food fans pride themselves on having a finer taste in their passion than most. When the most start liking something too quickly, the quickest way to distinguish themselves from the majority is to dislike what everyone else likes.

The part I don’t like about this sentiment is it’s not honest. It’s the notion that no good music plays on the radio, no good food is served at common restaurants, and no good movies make #1 at the Box Office.  It’s why some folks will always swear Greenday used to be good, why only the first set in the Star Wars series is worth watching, and why a meal is served in a rural strip mall can’t be top notch.

Specifically the notion that Avatar is tantamount to Dances with Wolves in space is kinda like summing up the Bible as the Torah with Jesus.  For one, it over simplifies a massive body of work. It’d be a meaningful statement if there were any other tie-ins from this work to it’s comparison apart from “this story is similar to that other story”, but in fact the two are in distinct genres by unique directors over two decades apart. Avatar is no different than any other movie  in sharing similar story elements with preceding works; the same can be said for any work of fiction in the last two centuries.

So the heart of the sentiment is basically another way of saying “the movie was alright, but the book was better.” Or, another way of saying “sure people liked this work, but I’m well informed and know of it’s influences.” Ta da! The “book was better” crowd is generally the “my tastes are refined and are ahead of popular trends” crowd. It’s the verbal equivalent of giving yourself a big shiny gold star for being special. It’s why teenagers go Goth. Kudos, you are special.

In short, Avatar is Dances with Wolves in space? So what?! They’re two distinct movies, and this one is very good – in spite of having been released at a film festival on a $2,000 budget.

2. “I interpret a political message in this movie that I don’t like.”

This stems from the crowd that hates to see American’s – or any familiar government groups or institutions – in any way being portrayed as a ill-intentioned bad guy. If Americans are shown as, say, corrupt, greedy, or in any sort of colonizing or occupying force, certain folks read the directors message that Americans are bad, and are instantly insulted.

I personally can’t understand people with such a fragile world view that can be usurped by a premise that their country is anything other than a force of unquestionable good. These are people that love cowboy and Indian films that don’t examine anything beneath the surface of polar myths. Cowboys in white = good, native Indians = bad. Can’t everything be this presumptuous and simple?

So if a movie challenges your world view and leaves an itchy rash, complain about the concept, but leave the work itself alone. Frankly I wouldn’t be deterred if the Colonel of the movie was victorious and raped Pandora of every last mineral. It was beautifully scripted and well done. So parse what irks your preconceptions from what James Cameron crafted over 3+ years. I’m sure there’s a few good Christian family websites that can advise you on the right and wrong films to watch, ones devoid of any influence from reality.

After a nice breakfast with my parents, Anna and I proceeded to do nothing at all. The kids ran around with their new toys, and we simply did next to nothing. I’m continuing to do nothing. And it’s wonderful. It’s like all my childless friends like now – a blissfully free schedule with few commitments.

And this is what Christmas apparently means for parents. Two hours of kiddy madness followed by a wonderful day of nothing.

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One of Anna's extra-credit assignments during a cake decorating course.

The problem I have with this sad story is that it’s all too logical.

Tiger Woods is the best golfer in the world. Out of 6 Billion people, his name stands at the top. He makes ungodly amounts of money in endorsements, is in incredible physical shape, travels the world year round, and has superstar fame and fandom wherever he goes. This is his life: he leaves home, travels somewhere for 5 or 6 days, stays at the finest of hotels, has an outpouring of cheer and adoration, wins oodles of money, and travels back home.

I don’t think the story here is that he’s been cheating. I think a more surprising story would be that he hasn’t been fooling around while on his routine luxury tour of the world.

This is in no way to excuse the behavior. Marriage is an uncompromising bond, and a person is committing to full fidelity when they enter it. “Transgressions” can’t be watered down or excused because of circumstances when love and family are on the line.

My point is how can you ever expect to be a normal husband and father when you’re Tiger Woods? I understand the instincts to settle down and raise a family, but it’s a huge gamble if it’s your job to be at a different city and golf course 4 days a week, 40 weeks a year. And some point you got to recognize where your life and your plans fit together. It’s why celebrities treat their marriages like car leases. If you see one last more than 5 years, it’s a phenomenon.

In perspective, it’s not that fascinating of a story really, just a typical tale with fascinating people.