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Cement enthusiast.
"Concrete parking lots are best" bumper sticker? Check.
"CMENT" vanity license plate? Check.
"I'd rather be driving fairways than freeways" license plate frame? Check.


Billboard for Jiffy Lube. Good to see they're doing their part.

 
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MOVIE: THE HITCHHIKER'S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY (2005).
After hitching a ride on a spaceship with his alien friend seconds before the destruction of Earth, a man finds himself swept along a wacky quest to find the question behind life, the universe, and everything. It sounds callous, but: I'm glad Douglas Adams wasn't alive to see this movie made. How did they do it? I wondered during the entire mess. How did they leach all the humor out of one of the funniest comedies ever written? How did they turn its famously dry wit into yet another loud-mouthed, action-ridden mistake? In short, how did they, with all the pressure and reputation and fan expectation at stake, completely miss the spirit of the original story?

I rooted for this throwaway adaptation for as long as I could, going so far as to dismiss the stultifying dialogue as a product of too many American actors on screen. But I know American actors can do irony just as well as the British (I just saw Kicking and Screaming, for example), leaving me to conclude that the filmmakers were interested in only one thing: leveraging HHGTTG's high brand recognition to drive revenue. They omitted the insecure elevator AIs, any mention of digital watches, and the value of towels. The Guide itself is reduced to a series of Flash animations on a jewelbox-sized PDA. They absolutely screwed up the Vogon poetry scene. And poor Marvin the robot gets glossed over as a simple sight gag. In fact, precious little of the book's original supply of Funny survives the dumbed-down Hollywood onslaught; the jokes that do make the cut suffer from overdone, overly self-conscious execution. The rest of the vast majority of the movie is a rushed, paceless mad dash, populated with slick special effects and lots, lots, lots of shouting, all of it pedestrian lines like "We have to rescue Trillian!" or "Get back to the ship!"

So, heads shaking as we left the theater, me & Nicki were left with our usual hopeless critique uttered in the same exasperated tones used by the nutritionist frustrated by epidemic obesity ("Eat less, exercise more"): Quit explaining the joke. Let 'em laugh. And never, ever, ever think what you're doing is funny. Comedy only succeeds when its players refuse to believe they're in on the joke. This movie giggles to itself all the way to the bank.

You just have to ask yourself: what's the point?


 
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PHOTO DIARY.

Many of the smaller, older apartment complexes in Santa Monica have dreamy names attached to otherwise unremarkable stucco buildings. Here we see The Golden Mermaid.

 
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PHOTO DIARY.

We went to visit little Eric again. He has a habit of resting a fist on his cheek when sleeping. Makes him look like he's deep in thought.

 
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MOVIE: ENRON: THE SMARTEST GUYS IN THE ROOM (2005).
A documentary recounts the story of how a Houston-based energy trading corporation lied its way into stealing billions of dollars. The story of Enron has been called the corporate crime of the 20th century. I thought I knew all about Enron, the nasty taped phone conversations between greedy brokers ("burn, baby, burn"), the executive excesses. Oh sure, I get it, corporations are greedy, whatever.

But seeing the whole story all in one go was a different experience. The depth of Enron's antipathy, which permeated all levels of the organization from the CEO, to the brokers on the floor, to the big banks who knowingly invested in Enron's outright deception—I hadn't really known about that. Engineering an artificial energy shortage, overcharging the State of California during dangerous rolling blackouts, and then pinning the state's resulting debt on a hapless Gray Davis? I didn't know that. It's easy to dress things up with terms like mark to market, or offshore debt accounts, but in reality the corporate scandal happened at the most basic, personal level. At one point we actually listen in on an Enron manager's late night call to a California power plant with orders to shut it down for no reason. That was shocking enough—but even more shocking was the plant manager's willing cooperation.

Which brings us to the documentary's point. It's not so much the insatiable greed or Machiavellian deception involved. It is, as exemplified by psychologist Stanley Milgram's famous "shock" experiment, the fact that people will do horrible things as long as they are instructed to do so by a seemingly authoritative and trustworthy figure. Enron isn't a particularly clever or well-made documentary, but its sincere, indignant brio succeeds by asking a simple question: why do people refuse to think for themselves?

What's the difference between California and the Titanic? When the Titanic went down, at least the lights were still on.
—Jeff Skilling, Enron CEO

 
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