Braddy Reads The Tiny Book of Tiny Stories

Eh. Technically, it's The Tiny Book of Tiny Stories, Volume 2. But I'm not going to be picky.

No doubt the main reason I picked this book up was the name on the cover. I'd never heard of "wirrow," but the co-author is actor and groovy fellow Jonathan Taylor Thomas Joseph Gordon-Leavitt, who has apparently set up a kind of collaborative creative workforce online called HITRECORD.

It's a pretty impressive endeavor - hundreds (thousands?) of contributors share little bits and pieces of ideas that get compiled together into larger and more polished products. It reminds me a lot of what Creative Commons was supposed to be all about, and it's equally inspirational. In my mind, HITRECORD seems like it functions the way intellectual property SHOULD function - credit given where credit is due, but ideas aren't really OWNED (or, rather, monopolized) by anyone.

But none of that really answers the most important question: Is their stuff any GOOD?

Well, yeah. I think so. You can see some of the videos they've come up with on their website, and they hold up pretty well, although having contributing talent from JGL and Gary Oldman (and a singer who I'm pretty sure is Zooey Deschanel) certainly helps.

And The Tiny Book of Tiny Stories (Volume 2) holds up pretty well on its own, too. The illustrations are often a little on the childish side - almost like what you'd see in the margins of a high-schooler's notebook - and the little stories sometimes verge on "emo." But that's not to the work's detriment. It's the synthesis of well-intentioned amateurish talent into something greater that makes these tiny stories fun to read. They are at times funny, poignant, and thought provoking. It's exactly what it says it is: a collection of tiny stories, some less than a sentence long, each packed with implied narrative and emotion.

The Tiny Book of Tiny Stories seems like it'd make a great gift for the hipster in your life, but I'm pretty sure, if you give it a chance, you'd like it, too.

Adventures in Animation: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic

*sigh* Ho-kay...

Ever since I found out that "bronies" were a thing, I knew I'd have to give My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic a shot. Actually, the more I learned about it, the more I realized that, no matter how many pink ponies and ribbons this show featured, it was likely right up my alley. And that was BEFORE I found put that the first season Executive Producer, Lauren Faust, was a writer on the Cartoon Network classic, The Powerpuff Girls. So, yeah, is it any surprise that I wound up totally ADORING this show?.

Eh, maybe it is.

Unlike Adventure Time, which I could never fully wrap my head around, I can tell you EXACTLY what makes MLP: FiM so good. At least, I think I can. And it starts right at the title.

Okay, so the title of this show is ridiculous. Like, completely. Where traditional "boy shows" have always been free to explore all sorts of subjects, from action to drama to slapstick, "girl shows" tended to focus on more... fluffy subjects. Things like friendship and love and such. Now these themes were present in boys' stories, to be sure, but they were the THEMES of individual episodes rather than the be-all-end-all of the entire series.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that there wasn't a lot of depth to classic girls' entertainment, even at its best. And, at first glance, it appears that MLP: FiM indulges in the worst of those tendencies. Then the music starts in and somehow reinforces that perception EVEN MORE. It's all, "Friends are fun and magic and stuff!" It's got the same vibe as some of those really bad Jem songs: cheesy, sentimental, and just sort of poorly written.

AND YET... It all really works. So much entertainment nowadays, even children's entertainment, revels in how self-aware and cynical it can be. There's none of that in MLP: FiM. Yeah, it's cheesy and a little cliche, but it's unrelentingly sincere in the best way. The show really is a celebration of all the good things friendship can do. It's that unfeigned optimism that really helps draw me in.

And maybe it's just wishful thinking, but I can't help but think it wonderfully significant that a show so popular among 18 to 35 year old males features so many well-rounded female characters. Nearly the ENTIRE CAST is female, not just the series leads, and they all feel like real characters rather than the bundles of stereotypes stewed up by all-male marketing teams you saw in so many 80s cartoons. I mean, sure you've got one girl obsessed with fashion, and another obsessed with parties, but you've also got a bookish nerd, a shy animal-lover, a rough-riding cowgirl, and a possibly lesbian race car driver. So even though I can't name more than a handful of strong male characters, the show doesn't suffer at all without them.

Now, it's not a perfect show. I try not to think too much about the mechanics of the world. I mean, how do horses build houses and plant seeds and bake cakes WITHOUT THUMBS?! A civilization of horses keeps cows and sheep that are clearly sentient, so there are some morality issues to sort through. And, of course, there's the fact that there are HORSE DRAWN CARRIAGES in Ponyville. Slavery much?

Oh, and there's this trio of baby ponies (characters I really like, by the way) whose subplot makes me unendurably uncomfortable. In the pony world, when a pony grows up, he or she develops a "cutie mark," which is basically a tramp stamp displaying what the pony is good at. These three little ponies don't have their cutie marks yet, and their anticipation kinda grosses me out. It reminds me of that time when I was a boy and mistook Judy Blume for Beverly Cleary and read Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret. I... wasn't quite ready for female maturation stuff. And, probably, I'm still not.

Man, that book messed me up.

But, in the end, I'll deal with the little grievances I have. MLP: FiM is a surprisingly great show. It's got a lot of humor, heart, sincerity, and other things that come together to make a veritable Captain Planet of entertainment, while never getting so "girlie" as to drive away its audience. Heck, even that silly, whimsical music manages to make the show better. Maybe it's just because I live in Utah, where we're experiencing the wildest winter we've had in years, but I can't help but get this big, stupid, excited grin every time I hear this song.

But, uh, I probably shouldn't tell you how many times I've listened to it.

Procreative(?) Charcoal

So the Procreate app on my iPad has tools that approximate charcoal. They're actually a lot more fun to deal with than the line-based tools (like the pens and such, which aren't nearly accurate enough for my taste). It's a fun way to pass time in church... or, you know, wherever.

Poem of the Week

We Wear the Mask

By Paul Laurence Dunbar

We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.

Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.

We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!

***

Another poem I found in the poetry spinner. I may have to get the book for this guy, though - he strikes me as a sort of ur-Langston Hughes, who, in case you haven't noticed from the number of times I've posted his poetry here, I kinda like.

Mainly, I love how the poet is able to set up rhyme and metric expectations, which he then shatters with his "We wear the mask" line. It's far more effectively done than most emo poetry on the same subject could ever hope to do.

Power Panels 6

So in my comics reading these past few months, I've come to the rather startling discovery that I'm almost MORE interested in newspaper comics than I am in the four-color superhero books I usually babble on about. Sure, newspaper comics are just about as obsolete as fax machines, carbon paper, and the Republican party, but they're still fascinating. Mainly in the way they persist in being terrible.

It seems that most newspaper comics are boring retreads of ideas that died at the same time as their creators... thirty or forty years ago. These are your Beetles Bailey, your Cranky Winkershafts, and your Wizards of B.C. The "comedy" in these strips is safe, tired, and boring.

Even those comics that do push the envelope a bit have gotten stale *ahem*Dilbert*ahem*. And that's saying nothing about the artwork, which usually consists of simple photocopies of heads in profile with new text written in every day like some type of endless newsprint Mad Lib.

And then there's Liō...

Liō may be one of my all-time favorite newspaper comics. For one thing, it draws on some of the great old silent comics (like the original Addams Family strip) and makes the idea feel new and fresh.

And then there's the fact that cartoonist Mark Tatulli seems to be pretty dedicated to making sure his strip looks good. Take this example from the first few months of Liō's run:

The close shot of the papers in the teacher's hands obscure the punchline effectively until the fourth panel. It's a neat trick using POV - something you'd never see in a strip like Pearls Before Swine. Which, you know, is still a funny strip, but it's not as visually appealing as, you know, this one.

Even with the "crowded working conditions" of the newspaper comics page, there's still enough room to pull off some pretty fancy shots. The humor's not lessened by the cramped quarters. The cartoonist just has to learn to make do with the space he's got. And, boy, does he.

Poem of the Week

Benny Said, Ruby Said

By J. Patrick Lewis

Benny said
To Ruby Lee,
“M-A-R-R-Y M-E!”
Ruby said,
To Benny,
“Ben, wouldn't
That be F-U-N?”

Benny said,
“My Ruby Lee,
We will W-E-D
Only if you let me K-
I-S-S you
Every day!”

***

This isn't my usual thing in poetry, but I kinda like it. Rhyming poetry, in my head, has a cutesy, childish connotation that it probably doesn't deserve. The best rhymes, in my opinion, are the cleverest, and this poem has clever rhymes in spades.

The spelling game between these two sweethearts serves two purposes. First, it enhances the playful attitude of the poem. Second, it makes room for some really clever rhymes, like the "hidden" rhyme in the first stanza between "Ben" and the "N" in FUN.

Deep Fried Funk

So I think I may have to give up my favorite lunchtime food. Just about every day, I head down to the cafeteria and pick up some of my favorite comfort food - a grilled cheese sandwich and onion rings. I figured I made up for the buttered and battered junk I shoveled down my gullet by rinsing out my mouth with a green smoothie, but I think I may have been mistaken. After all, I split my favorite pair of work pants the other day...

Luckily, I ripped 'em BEFORE I went to work, but it's still demoralizing. I mean, these were my favorite pair. They were brown, and I could wear them with my favorite brown shoes. They were nice enough to wear to work, but not so nice that I felt stiff or overly formal. And they had the best expanding waistband, so I never felt full after lunch.

That's right: I split the one pair of pants I own with an elastic waistband.

Now, I'm not FAT. Not at all. But... well, I didn't used to jiggle when I went down stairs. I didn't used to get winded jogging after the bus. And I didn't used to feel like a tube of toothpaste when I wore my business slacks to work.

Picture unrelated.

In recent months, my waistline seems to be expanding with near-Napoleonic levels of aggression, and I don't seem to have the energy I need to make it through the second half of each work day. When I get home from work, I don't feel like cleaning or writing or really doing anything other than lounging around, snacking and maybe reading if I feel like being active.

And all this after I went jogging that one time. It's not fair!

Well, anyway, it may be time for me to review my diet again. I'm not looking to bulk up for swimsuit season or anything like that. I'm just hoping to keep my waist pillow at the "loverly writer's paunch" level rather than the "did I inflate that beach ball or swallow it?" level.

You ever try doing sit-ups while watching videos on your iPad? It's multi-tasking at its best!

The Tyranny of Genre

So I like to pretend that I'm a writer, which basically means that I feel guilty about spending all my free time watching reruns of Burn Notice unless I've spent about twenty minutes staring at the blinking icon on my word processor. But I still talk a good game, and so my writing does sometimes come up in casual conversation.

Most of the time, when I mention that I'm an aspiring novelist, I get usually get polite nods and an occasional "Oh, that's nice." The topic of conversation is usually changed quickly thereafter. Every now and then, though, someone will be genuinely interested in finding out more about what I do and will ask some follow-up questions.

Unfortunately, the most common question I get is "What kind of books do you write?"

Okay, the question in and of itself isn't a bad one. In fact, it's one of the few follow-up questions that makes sense ("What does your mother think of that?" is another appropriate choice). However, and maybe this is just the circles I run in, but the question "What kind of books do you write?" USUALLY is code for "Do you write fantasy or science fiction?"

And the answer to that question is usually "Phbphbt!"

The books I have written (and, of course, not published) are each in wildly different genres. One is something of a suspense/murder mystery with elements of urban fantasy. One is a straightforward coming-of-age tale. One is about cowboy pharmacists. So they don't really fit very neatly into any of those fairly narrow genres.

See, cuz when someone says they write "Fantasy," what they actually mean is they're ripping off Lord of the Rings.

When they say "Science Fiction," they mean they're writing Star Trek fanfiction.

Or, rather, Star WARS fanfiction, because nobody understands what sci-fi is actually about.

And, really, there's NOTHING WRONG with these individual stories. LOTR, Star Wars, and Star Trek are all used as prime examples of their respective genres because they happen to be REALLY GOOD.

The problem I have with so-called "genre fiction" is that it tends to ape what came before without bringing anything new to the table. Fantasy stories are all about rugged humans and fat, comic-relief Scotsmen looking for mystic Macguffins. Romance is about horrible people being selfish with each other. Science fiction is about humina bumina boo BUT IN SPACE.

Either that, or they're writing self-referential literature. That's all well and good, but it's really only enjoyable for the initiates. Trust me - you may think your satirical fantasy epic, Lord of the Bling, is HILARIOUS, but it's really only going to entertain those who already love fantasy literature and/or hip-hop.

I think there's a reason college programs frown on genre fiction, since it seems most genre fiction is a simple regurgitation of tropes that were implemented better elsewhere. But, of course, that's not always the case. Some of the greatest novels of the 20th century can easily be lumped into genres: 1984 and Farenheit 451 are both science fiction. The Maltese Falcon is crime noir. You can even make the case that something like Lolita falls into the romance genre, if you're a terrible person.

It seems to me that, while genre is a fairly useful classification for the reader (as long as they don't get into narrow-minded reading ruts), it's less helpful for the writer. Writers should just focus on their story and let the librarians worry about classification. Maybe it's just me, but I feel that writers who write to genre conventions come across as uninspired or derivative. Or maybe I'm just jealous that I've never written anything as wildly successful as Twilight.

Hmm... Twilight in Space... "And so the lamb fell in love with the flesh-eating Martian"... "You're EXACTLY my brand of Plutonian heroin"...

(As it turns out, I'm not the first person to use the phrase "The Tyrrany of Genre." So I probably have some homework reading to do.)

Braddy Reads Ender's Shadow

I actually feel a little bad about this one...

My book club met in December to do a book exchange. Now, I joined the book club because I wanted to expand my horizons a little - read books I wouldn't choose to read on my own. So when we all decided to share our favorite book with someone else in the club, I was excited to get something new and different.

And... well, I don't really like Orson Scott Card.

I hope I was able to mask my disappointment when I opened up Ender's Shadow... but I doubt I was. I mean, it feels a little childish to get all huffy when your gifts don't live up to their expectations. And I don't know many twenty-whatevers as childish as I am. Still, a gift's a gift, so I gave the book a read.

My reasons for disliking Card are kind of difficult to explain. For one thing, he's said some rather stupid things I don't quite agree with. That's not really it, though. I think it boils down to the feeling I got when I read Card's Seventh Son series back in junior high. Those books are a bizarre fantasy series loosely based around the life of the Mormon prophet Joseph Smith. I don't remember them being particularly BAD books, but I do remember getting an odd, unpleasant feeling when I read them. I continued to read the books because they were, in a way, about my own faith. As an adult, I feel like I'd been tricked, especially since whatever feeling I got while reading those books wasn't a pleasant one.

That's all I can say. Card's not a bad writer - he's actually really good. But I just... feel weird reading him. That silly enough for you?

That said, I do remember reading Ender's Game in junior high and LOVING it. In fact, I've often thought I should go back and read it again. So I tried to push my weird feelings towards Card and his writing aside and just enjoy Ender's Shadow for what it was.

Of course, when the first chapter features numerous references to twelve-year-old prostitutes, that task was made pretty difficult. But, really, that's just the sort of grittiness one should expect from the Ender series. The whole point of the series (at least, those books of the series I read) is to take a lot of the violence and psychological conflict of adult war stories and transplant them to a juvenile setting. It's a mite disturbing, yes, but in a way that's more reminiscent of The Hunger Games than, say, Lolita.

For me, the biggest distraction in Ender's Shadow was how hard it sought to rewrite the events of Ender's Game, casting Bean in a stronger protagonist role. Card goes to great length to portray Bean, not as Ender's peer, but his superior. In a way, by building up Bean's story so much, I kinda felt that Ender's story was diminished.

But, really, I'm nitpicking. There's a reason Ender's Game was so highly regarded, and Card's strengths show through equally strongly here. Bean's calculations are fascinating to read. The way he understands people so thoroughly, and yet somehow misses their humanity, makes him a truly compelling character. So, yeah, this book was definitely worth the read.

Project 2: The Rag Man

Here comes the wretched Rag Man,
Hey, holly-hoo, hey!
He wears no shoe upon his foot.
He dyes his clothes with chimney soot.
Say hey, holly-hoo hey!

He stops at every doorstep,
Hey, holly-hoo, hey!
And then, if nobody lets him in,
He dines in the alley on scraps of tin.
Say hey, holly-hoo hey!

Then off runs Billy Boucher,
Hey, holly-hoo, hey!
The priest outside the church he'll meet
And together they'll chase the man down the street.
Say hey, holly-hoo hey!

This one was harder than it looks.

The idea behind "The Rag Man" was to create a nursery rhyme. Now, the best nursery rhymes are easy enough for children to memorize, yet still suggestive of some hidden meaning. You know, like how everyone thinks "Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary" is about Mary, Queen of Scots (it isn't). Given another week, I'd spend more time on this one - but that's not how the project works. Maybe in 2014.

There's not really a story behind "The Rag Man," but, if there was one, it'd be a scary one. Hence the blurry, shadowy picture for the illustration.

Poem of the Week

Early To Bed

By Mary Mapes Dodge

Early to bed and early to rise:
If that would make me wealthy and wise
I’d rise at daybreak, cold or hot,
And go back to bed at once. Why not?

***

I'll admit that I've been having a lot more fun with the iPad than maybe I should be. I do most of my drawing, writing, blogging, and reading on the device. I've even taken to watching numerous episodes of My Little Pony Titans of Testosterone with my spare time. Now, I can even cede most of the legwork for my "Poem of the Week" feature to the iPad.

There's a neat little app put out by The Poetry Foundation simply called "POETRY." It has a randomizer function that brings up, not individual poems, but a random SUBJECT of poetry. I've been using it quite a bit recently, and I'm finding a lot of fun poetry. For example, the verse above seems a little silly (and it is), but go read the bio on poet Mary Mapes Dodge and you'll find she kept some pretty prestigious company.

See? Education!

The Wettest Blanket

Everybody here know that guy who always has to have the last word on everything? Who just HAS to share his opinion, regardless of the context? You know, that guy who always turns up right when you're about to share your thoughts on something you love, only to tell you how much he hates the very thing you were about to mention? We all hate that guy, right? Don't we just want to punch that guy?

Well, sharpen up your boxing gloves, because guess what? It turns out I AM THAT GUY.

I first noticed this problem (well, had it pointed out to me) while waiting in line to watch a movie with my brother and sister-in-law. I don't even remember the context of the conversation anymore, but I think my sister-in-law mentioned a movie she really liked, and I just responded with, "Ugh, I HATE that movie!"

Then she called me a wet blanket.

And it's pretty true. I don't MEAN to be a wet blanket. I just happen to be a man who is very fond of his own opinions. And why not? My opinions are awesome, and the world would likely be a better place if more people shared them.

Sometimes, though, I just have to sit back and let other people share their own opinions. I mean, just because an individual is demonstrably wrong doesn't share my feelings on a particular subject doesn't mean their point isn't worth making. So I have to learn to be more patient with those differently opinionated than I.

And I promise to do so if y'all promise to stop punching me. Those boxing gloves are frickin' SHARP!

Adventures in Animation: Adventure Time

...I don't know what I've been watching.

Adventure Time is probably the biggest animated show since Spongebob Squarepants. Seriously, everyone seems to love it. I've now watched a whole season of it, and I still can't quite figure out WHY.

It's a difficult show to describe. The story follows Finn, a human boy living in a world populated by candy people, witches, and monsters. He goes on adventures with his dog Jake, a shape-shifting creature with the voice of Futurama's Bender.

And that's where the simple explanation ends. The rest of the Adventure Time experience is filled with shoddy character designs, non-sequiturs, and the occasional fart joke. It's a childish show about childish people.

Also: This guy.

So why do I like it so much?

There's no mistake: I DO like it. I bought the Season One DVD collection and have watched it probably five times through. Yet I still hate the character designs, and I still dislike most of the stories.

Adventure Time takes place in a pseudo-epic fantasy world, so the best episodes are the ones that take classic fantasy tropes and play with them. For example, my favorite episode (or the one that's darn near closest to being favorite) centers around Jake trying to convince Finn to play make-believe. He hops around on the furniture, playing "The Floor Is Lava." Finn refuses to play along and defiantly stomps on the floor... only for his foot to catch on fire.

The rest of the episode is a giant trek through the house in search of an "imagination turn off" machine." Along the way, Finn and Jake face hordes of trolls, riddle masters, and deadly traps; however, since they're all products of Jake's imagination, they're all invisible. Not even the audience can see them. And it's seriously hilarious.

So there's the play on conventions, but there's also something about the dialog that brings me back. There's one episode, "Memories of Boom Boom Mountain," that I find particularly insipid. The episode is all about Finn trying to solve the problems of a bunch of bizarre characters. Finn gets emotional when he tells his "origin story": as a baby, he went "boom-boom" on a leaf (which is exactly what it sounds like), and he cried and cried until he was rescued by Jake's parents. I'm more than a little bugged by the potty humor in the story, and I don't care much for it.

But then Jake's father says, "You just kissed a Boom Boom baby, so don't expect any more sugar from me, sweetheart, until we wash your dirty, dirty face."

That's it. I'll watch the WHOLE EPISODE for ONE LINE. And the series is FULL of lines like that

None of this makes the show any BETTER, but I still watch it... and watch it again... and again... and again...

Cooking with Braddy: Ginger Almonds

Once upon a time, I had a roommate who was pretty into Alton Brown's Good Eats. We sat down and watched an episode focused on health food and came across this recipe, which Mr. Brown recommended as an alternative to overly sugary or salty snacks.

I'd made the recipe before, but the results were less than optimal. I tried to double the recipe, but my poor little cast-iron skillet wasn't quite up to the task, and the seasonings didn't get spread around as much as they should have. I tried it again with the correct amounts of everything, and it's worked much better this time.

The recipe calls for a single arbol chile. I don't use arbol chiles that much, so it took me a while to find them. Turns out they're sold in the Mexican food aisle, and they come in packages like this:

And I needed ONE chile. So I'll probably be making this recipe again... out of necessity.

It's pretty easy to make up a batch of ginger almonds, and they're aromatic enough that it's worth it. I mean, it's good enough to have the scent of the chiles and the ginger, but when it comes time to tip in the Worcestershire sauce, the entire room fills with a really spicy aroma. My nose literally ran with excitement.

Ginger almonds don't take that much effort to make, and a lot of that time is pretty passive (they bake for about twenty minutes, just enough time to watch an episode of My Little Pony Manly Guns and Chainsaws on YouTube. Each handful is full of flavor, and they make for a very satisfying and healthy snack. Well, "healthy" if Alton Brown is to be believed. Which I'm not sure he is. He looks like a liar sometimes.

Big Screen Breakdown: The Hobbit

Les Miserables wasn't the only film I caught over the holiday weekend. I went with my family to see The Hobbit: An Unexpected Trilogy, a movie I honestly hadn't expected to see. I think I was concerned for the integrity of the original trilogy or something. Well, turns out that I probably didn't need to worry so much.

• My biggest fear was tonal whiplash. The Lord of the Rings is a fairly dark story, while The Hobbit always struck me as a bit of a kiddie story. Attempts to reconcile the tones of these two connected but still very different stories would likely create some tonal inconsistencies, which... yeah, they were there. The tone swings around like a cat tied to a tetherball pole, and the experience is a little jarring. But just a little.
• I think I may be the only person who thinks this, but I felt the movie could have used more Martin Freeman. Sure, he's the lead actor, but I don't feel like I saw enough of him - mainly because watching him was a pure delight. I want a Freeman overdose!
• Actually, the performances were all pretty captivating. Even the dwarves, who are goofy as all get out, do a fantastic job bringing some dignity to their roles. Especially Balin.
• Hey, rewind that for a bit. Is that Lee Pace? It IS! Man, I can't WAIT for the next movie now!
• Within the first half-hour, we get two full-blown musical numbers. Surprisingly, they're both excellent, so much so that I was disappointed that The Hobbit wasn't the first big-screen epic fantasy musical.
• The troll scene was gross and stupid.
• Sylvester McCoy as Radegast. There was really no reason for this character to appear, but I was glad to see him anyway.
• Verdict: Recommended.

Project 1: Violence Against Oranges

7:33 A.M.,
and my eyes clench shut like little jaws.
I don't want to admit it,
but I've overslept.

Review the morning's agenda
as I prepare the ritual morning breakfast:
a bowl of cold oatmeal, glass of milk,
and a sweet, unsuspecting orange.

First, a joyless shower,
then a trip through traffic
(where the drivers will ALL be
less considerate than I).

Now the orange is in my hands,
its thick rind fragile under my fingers.
I trace my nails along the surface,
coyly, flirtatiously.


The phone will ring
promptly at 9.
Already I can feel my ear sweat
from the weight of the receiver.

I didn't mean to, but I've pierced
the skin. Pale, plastic rind falls
to the table, and a spray
of citrus mist fills the air.

"You can't yell at the customers,"
they tell you,
"and stop beating the keyboard
against the desk!"

I lift a dripping fragment to my lips and bite down.
One by one, the frail sacs of liquid burst,
and the juice drips down my chin,
slides from my fingers to the table.

I am appeased. I wipe my face
on the back of my hand
like a hungry Neanderthal
in front of Raquel Welch,

and now, when faced
with an unreasonable customer,
I can smile, lower my eyes,
and simply say, "How can I help you?"

Week One, and the project's done. Not my finest effort, I'll admit. There's a gem of a good poem here, I'm sure of it (and I may have drafted a similar poem previously - I don't remember).

The illustration is meant to be in the style of certain artists I admire (Jeff Lemire and Guy Davis) whose illustrations have a sketchier, almost unfinished style to them. They do it better.

Cooking With Braddy: Gorgonzola and Sage Stuffed Chicken

For Christmas, I received a new cookbook: Quick & Easy Recipes With Just 4 Ingredients (couldn't find an Amazon link). At first, I was a lettle disappointed, expecting that most of the recipes would be something like, "Spread ketchup on a pre-made pastry crust. Top with ramen noodles and serve with Fritos." And, yeah, there we a few recipes like that. However, there was also this gem, and I just had to try it.

The idea here is to cut a slit in the chicken and stuff it with the other ingredients. It's somewhat messy work, but the end result is pretty good. It helps that the chickent gets stuffed with tasty gorgonzola cheese.

The bottled sun-dried tomatoes get put to good use. They're packed with oil,which would usually be thrown away. However, the recipe recommends using the leftover oil to cook the chicken in. I thought that was a clever touch.

I still get paranoid when cooking chicken on the stovetop. One underdone piece is enough to ruin a whole day's worth of meals. The trick in this recipe is to select thin chicken breasts - which was counter-intuitive to me. I selected thicker breasts so cutting the slit would be easier. These took much longer to cook, and the outside was fried to to point of being tough.

The thin one, though... Oh, THAT was good!

Two Rabbits

Certain cultures see a bunny in the moon, rather than a man. So we've got two bunnies. Get it?

I've been dinking around with the new iPad, and I've found a great app for drawing. It's called Procreate (I know, I know). I don't have the greatest eye for color, but this tool will help me practice a little (I hope). I spent all Sunday afternoon lying in a beanbag chair, watching Talespin, and doodling. Good day.

Big Screen Breakdown: Les Miserables

I went with my cousin J.C. to see Les Miserables (also known as Crying: The Musical) on New Year's Eve. Rather than write up a full review, I've opted to just jot down a few thoughts I had while watching the movie and during the hours afterwards. I'll probably do this for most movies I watch from now on. Some of these thoughts may even be insightful, so be sure to read them all!

• Wolverine fights Gladiator in order to save the life of Catwoman's daughter, Little Red Riding Hood. It's, like, the crossover of the century!
• I've never been an Anne Hathaway detractor - in fact, I've always liked her. Yet I'm still surprised that she was as good as she was in this movie. When did Ella Enchanted become one of the best actresses in Hollywood?
• I was pleasantly surprised by Gerard Butler Russell Crowe as Javert. He was still probably the weakest singer in the ensemble, but he exceeded my expectations, and managed to genuinely impress on more than one occasion (see especially "Confrontation" and the scene when Valjean finds him at the barricade).
• Amanda Seyfried has a beautiful voice. Who knew? I wish she had more breath control so we could have heard those nice high notes longer.
• J.C. pointed out that there's no title card in the movie. How the heck were we supposed to know what we were watching?
• Love Hugh Jackman. Love his voice. Sadly, I'm not sure he was the best choice for Valjean. I grew up listening to Colm Wilkinson sing the part, and so in my head, THAT'S what Jean Valjean should sound like. And Hugh Jackman, through no fault of his own, is no Colm Wilkinson.
• Hey, look, Colm Wilkinson is in the movie!
• Poor Fantine has the worst experience of her life. She's in tears, losing her faith in God and humanity... and I'm in the audience eating Raisinets. There's something wrong with that picture.
• "Valjean's Soliloquy" features some peculiar cinematography. Jackman sings directly to the camera while going through his crisis of conscience. It's a bizarre decision, and a risky one on the part of the director, but one that I think ultimately works.
• Geez, they wrote an original song just for the movie. Thankfully, "Suddenly" doesn't suck. It explains most of Valjean's behavior for the rest of the story in a way that nothing in the original production really did. It's not the strongest song I've heard, but it's pretty nice still.
• Actually, they make a lot of changes to the music from the stage production. Broadway fans should be patient, though, as most of the changes make sense and work within the context of the movie. None of your favorite songs have been cut (unless "Dog Eat Dog" was you favorite song, in which case, brother, you and I won't ever understand each other).
• Well, okay, ONE change from the original music really smarts. Marius gets a line in the original production where he wonders who rescued him from the barricade. Without that line, I honestly assumed he knew. The ending gets a little confusing without that.
• No, seriously guys: Anne Hathaway may be the best part of the movie. That's the second time she's done that to me this year!
• Unrelated to the movie - I think New Year's Eve movies may be my new favorite tradition I've only done once.
• Verdict: Recommended