Winter Break, Week One: A Review

So, dad and I went and saw Casino Royale on Wednesday. We both enjoyed it, although Dad complained about the long and unrealistic poker scenes. I really liked Vesper, perhaps the smartest Bond woman ever, and enjoyed the many appearances of M (I love Judy Dench). I'm also glad that we've gotten over the era when people like Madonna were singing the theme songs. All of this said, I couldn't help but be struck, while watching the first chase through the construction site, by the unrealistic acrobatics and endurance displayed on the part of both the chaser and chase-ee. Then I thought: this chase scene could only be written by and for men who grew up playing Nintendo video games, specifically the Mario Bros. version. Think about it: all that jumping, the ricocheting off the walls, the moving platforms... you know it's true.

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The Shady Dealer can't hold a candle to reality. (At this point, I find that I can't link to the U of C's Shady Dealer attempt-at-humor magazine, which recently ran the headline, "Rising Crude Oil Prices Force Local Synagogue To Shorten Hanukkah to Four Days." You'll just need to trust me. They did.) I offer you, in comparison, this article from the SF Chronicle: Jewish groups work to make Festival of Lights a little bit greener: Campaign promotes use of energy-efficient bulbs Here are some selections:

This Jewish response to global warming gives new meaning to the Festival of Lights, which lasts eight nights and celebrates an ancient triumph of energy conservation.

"We love the story of the miracle of oil," said Rabbi Julie Saxe-Taller at Congregation Sherith Israel in San Francisco, who will be encouraging the temple's 630 families to buy the curlicue-shaped fluorescent bulbs this season. "Our world is in desperate need for a miracle to make our oil last, but we are the ones to make it happen. And it needs to be about reducing our dependency on oil."

To be clear: I think that this program is cool, but wish that the article and quotes were a little less cheesy. If you want real cheese, though, try to come up with a Christian version ("We're called to be the Light of the World..."). Yeah. Ugh.

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When we went to see Casino Royale, Dad and I went to the theatre in the new San Francisco Center-- a big, fancy, shopping mall. I like the new addition because it has more stores where I might actually want to shop. The food court is ritzy, but the best part is the rotundra. It's spectacular, especially with the wreaths and lights that are up right now. I felt like a tourist in my own home town.

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Mordu ordered me to relax, so I spent some time browsing the Scary Go Round archives. Nick and Patrick agree with me-- this is a great comic. I do, however, find that if I read too much of it in one sitting, my speech patterns start mimicking those of the comic. Back in High School, when he was just starting, I tried to get into John Alison's previous comic, "Bobbins," but found it roughly drawn and not to my taste. He's come a long way.

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Other linkages: I think some of you will enjoy The Affected Provincial's Almanack. Notable recent posts include his book tour in San Francisco and a post on the loss of the Chinese River Dolphin.

He reminds me, in many ways, of Richardson Wright, who I recommend to everyone but Patrick, who finds him annoying. My copy is currently lent out to everyone's favorite MorganStanley sell-out.

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We are quote-rich these days, but I'm just going to amuse you (I hope) with some selections from a lengthly e-mail conversation I've been having with my friend and fellow medieval historian, Neil. I'm going out to New York for Anne's wedding, but I'm staying with Veronica in New Jersey for a few nights beforehand. This has inspired much plotting on the parts of my many friends who live in Jersey. Neil, for his part, writes,

I was going to suggest that garett, myself, you, possibly Veronica all get together for some
debauchery, and since this is NJ, it IS noteworthy that the D for Debauchery also is for Diner.

On being informed that Mordu was also "making noises" about everyone getting together, he says,

I remember hearing those noises, but they were low and indistinct. If you want to visualize what the noise I would be making would sound like, just picture the end of Braveheart, where William Wallace is screaming "FREEEEEDOOOOOMM" at the top of his lungs. Just replace "freedom" with "diner" and you've got it.