This is turning out to be quite the Holiday Season for Geek Music Stuff:
:: The Lord of the Rings Complete Recordings: The Return of the King is available as of tomorrow. Mine should arrive via UPS the day after tomorrow. I can't wait to spend a big chunk of Thanksgiving Weekend journeying by music back to Minas Tirith, and through Mordor, and thence to the Grey Havens.
:: Intrada Records has issued the complete score to Alien, music by Jerry Goldsmith, on a two-disc set. I don't know if I'll pick this up or not; I'm not that big a Goldsmith fan, and I'm definitely not an Alien fan.
:: I probably will pick up the three-disc Blade Runner score release, though. I'm not the biggest fan of that film, but the music by Vangelis is wonderful stuff, and I look forward to hearing it in full. (I'll probably also get the new version of the film on DVD, albeit not the superduper one that comes in a briefcase or something like that.)
The personal blog of author Kelly Sedinger, chronicling the adventures of one overalls-clad wanderer.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Sentential Links #119
Dispensing with the pleasantries:
:: When I was in the 5th grade, I got my very first handbag.
:: A chilly morning and the crows are cawing overhead as they fly out for a day of adventure before coming home to roost and talk about it together.
:: At any [rate] it seems clear to me that even the "optimistic" scenarios for Iraq now amount to promising to bear huge costs for a smallish chance at an unclear payoff.
:: Aging and retirement hardly resemble the "golden years" one often sees and hears.
:: The reason I wouldn’t call it [Firefly] the best science fiction show is because it isn’t science fiction. It’s space opera. (BZZZT! Space opera is a subgenre of science fiction, not something separate entirely.)
:: Think about that, won’t you; eat one piece of fruit and suddenly you’re responsible for the inevitable heat death of the universe. God’s kind of mean.
:: They've got our future, damn it.
It's not the shiny future of jet packs and food pills — oh no, that's not what Japan is about. Nevertheless, they've got it and they're living in it, damn them. They've got express trains that run on time and accelerate so fast they push you back into your seat like an airliner on take-off. They've got skyscrapers with running lights, looming out of the sodium-lit evening haze — a skyline just like the famous nighttime scene from Blade Runner except for the shortage of giant pyramids (and they're building one of those out in Tokyo bay). And they shave their cats.
:: Ah, if there’s one thing that’s going defuse a violent situation and calm down a dude who’s got a gun out in his boat, it’s condescendingly tousling his hair, then pumping him full of caffeine. That’s just the sort of crowd control techniques you learn at Mountie Academy!
:: I turned fifty a couple of months ago, and this is my first letter to Santa since I was five, so I have a long list: (Lots of snark here, and salty language. Also, it's a weird hybrid of blog and message board.)
OK, that seems like a good place to stop. Tune in next week!
:: When I was in the 5th grade, I got my very first handbag.
:: A chilly morning and the crows are cawing overhead as they fly out for a day of adventure before coming home to roost and talk about it together.
:: At any [rate] it seems clear to me that even the "optimistic" scenarios for Iraq now amount to promising to bear huge costs for a smallish chance at an unclear payoff.
:: Aging and retirement hardly resemble the "golden years" one often sees and hears.
:: The reason I wouldn’t call it [Firefly] the best science fiction show is because it isn’t science fiction. It’s space opera. (BZZZT! Space opera is a subgenre of science fiction, not something separate entirely.)
:: Think about that, won’t you; eat one piece of fruit and suddenly you’re responsible for the inevitable heat death of the universe. God’s kind of mean.
:: They've got our future, damn it.
It's not the shiny future of jet packs and food pills — oh no, that's not what Japan is about. Nevertheless, they've got it and they're living in it, damn them. They've got express trains that run on time and accelerate so fast they push you back into your seat like an airliner on take-off. They've got skyscrapers with running lights, looming out of the sodium-lit evening haze — a skyline just like the famous nighttime scene from Blade Runner except for the shortage of giant pyramids (and they're building one of those out in Tokyo bay). And they shave their cats.
:: Ah, if there’s one thing that’s going defuse a violent situation and calm down a dude who’s got a gun out in his boat, it’s condescendingly tousling his hair, then pumping him full of caffeine. That’s just the sort of crowd control techniques you learn at Mountie Academy!
:: I turned fifty a couple of months ago, and this is my first letter to Santa since I was five, so I have a long list: (Lots of snark here, and salty language. Also, it's a weird hybrid of blog and message board.)
OK, that seems like a good place to stop. Tune in next week!
New England Satanic Puppy Eaters 56, Bills 10
Lord, now that was a steamrolling. Holy crap. I'm still not sure that Belichick's Boys of Ultimate Evil are going to go undefeated, but yeesh, they've probably got a better shot at it than anybody has in years.
Why am I not convinced that the Foxborough Hitlers are going to go 16-0? Because of the way the standings work out. They'll clinch the AFC East with just one more win (probably this weekend), and assuming Indianapolis doesn't lose again, they'll clinch the top seed with four more wins, which would leave two meaningless games at the end of their schedule. Now, their last two games are one at home against Miami (no problem), but then on the road at the Giants, who may need that game for either playoff position or possibly even a division crown. And they could end up playing meaningless games sooner than that, if Indy loses again. So, you never know.
Anyhow....
Why am I not convinced that the Foxborough Hitlers are going to go 16-0? Because of the way the standings work out. They'll clinch the AFC East with just one more win (probably this weekend), and assuming Indianapolis doesn't lose again, they'll clinch the top seed with four more wins, which would leave two meaningless games at the end of their schedule. Now, their last two games are one at home against Miami (no problem), but then on the road at the Giants, who may need that game for either playoff position or possibly even a division crown. And they could end up playing meaningless games sooner than that, if Indy loses again. So, you never know.
Anyhow....
:: Kevin Everett is out of the hospital.
:: The game ended.
:: Al Michaels and John Madden, who acted like Buffalo's City Hall is the single largest City Hall they've ever seen in their lives. Come on, guys. It would have been nice to hear them say, "That's Buffalo's City Hall, and let me tell you, that is one beautiful building, and this city is full of 'em."
:: Again, JP Losman. It's official, folks: I have given up on him. Not that I expected him to beat New England -- that would have required, oh, some kind of event involving two snipers on the roof of Ralph Wilson Stadium, the ritual sacrifice of six goats, and a DVD of a Jerry Lewis movie -- but can't he at least complete short passes to open receivers? Apparently not, sadly enough.
Losman strikes me as a terrific guy, which makes this kind of sad for me. I didn't just want him to succeed here because he was here, but because he's genuinely likable. But sometime you just wanna win, you know?
:: Smuggy McBrady left the game with his knee intact. What somebody needs to do is send all eleven guys after him, on the game's first play from scrimmage. Come on, remaining 2007 opponents of the New England Genghis Khans! Take him out! Do it for the children!
Next up: the Bills go to Jacksonville. Apparently JP Losman is still the starter, and Marshawn Lynch may still be out. Whoopee.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Sunday Burst of Weirdness
Two items this week, snagged from MeFi:
:: First, an apparent call to customer service (warning: salty language) of Jimmy Dean Sausage regarding their apparent execution of the old "reduce the package size but keep the price the same" retail maneuver. I say "apparent" because some folks on MeFi seem to think this may be a viral marketing kind of thing. Assuming it's a real guy voicing a real complaint, I kind of see his point, but geez, breakfasts in his family consist of fried eggs, T-bone steaks, and sausage? With what else?
:: Second, remember the kindly Grandpa Joe character from Willy Wonka? Well, according to these folks, he's less than kindly. Hmmmmm.
:: And from TNH, we have action figures of Jesus, in the act of performing in...I'm not making this up...extreme sports.
This reminds me of a lame joke I once heard:
:: First, an apparent call to customer service (warning: salty language) of Jimmy Dean Sausage regarding their apparent execution of the old "reduce the package size but keep the price the same" retail maneuver. I say "apparent" because some folks on MeFi seem to think this may be a viral marketing kind of thing. Assuming it's a real guy voicing a real complaint, I kind of see his point, but geez, breakfasts in his family consist of fried eggs, T-bone steaks, and sausage? With what else?
:: Second, remember the kindly Grandpa Joe character from Willy Wonka? Well, according to these folks, he's less than kindly. Hmmmmm.
:: And from TNH, we have action figures of Jesus, in the act of performing in...I'm not making this up...extreme sports.
This reminds me of a lame joke I once heard:
Jesus, Moses, and an old man are playing golf. Moses tees off and plops his ball right in the water, so he walks over, parts the water to where his ball is and putts out of it. Then Jesus tees off and also lands in the water, but he merely walks across the surface of the water until he gets to where his ball is, where, finding it quite shallow, he putts it out and onto the green. Now the old man tees off and hits his ball toward the same water. But the ball bounces off the shell of a swimming turtle, and then arcs wildly toward the woods, where it caroms off the back of a bird in flight back onto the green, where it rolls the rest of the way to the hole. Moses grunts, turns to Jesus, and says, "You know, I really hate playing golf with your father."
I know, I know. But tip your waitress anyway, folks.
Time to start embiggening my words
There's a widget going around Blogistan that tests your blog's readability level. So I plugged my own URL in to see, and here's what happened:
Ummmm...what?
Not that there's anything wrong with this, mind you -- Lloyd Alexander wrote at an elementary school level a lot of time, and it served him rather well -- but I wouldn't mind having some notion of methodology here.
Anyhow, moving on....
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Unidentified Earth 24
It's the twenty-fourth installment! Woo-hoo! Or something. Anyway, Unidentified Earth 23 was identified fairly quickly. It's the Piazza dei Miracoli in Pisa, Italy. That smaller, lopsided-looking building at the lower right of the image I used? That's the Leaning Tower of Pisa.
OK, here we go again. Let's see how we do with this one!
Where are we?
Rot-13 your guesses!
OK, here we go again. Let's see how we do with this one!
Where are we?
Rot-13 your guesses!
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Tag'd
Ah, I see that Erin has tagged me with the vicious Seven Things Meme, wherein bloggers are supposed to provide seven facts about themselves. For a long-lived blogger like myself, this meme gets harder every time it comes around, since I run through a roster of facts in my head and rule them all out on the basis that I'm really, really sure that I've already posted them before in a previous iteration of Seven Things. So, here we go:
1. My idea of an ideal vacation these days consists not of journeying to some far-flung and exotic locale, but simply packing some clothes, getting in the car, and driving somewhere, with only these rules: No driving on Interstates or expressways of any kind, and No eating at chain establishments (except for local chains that you'll only find in a single city, like Ted's in Buffalo). The Wife and I recently took such a journey, and it was as magical a weekend as I can remember. The best way to find good food? Drive into a town and eat at the place whose parking lot is full. Especially if the windows all have neon beer signs and the place's name includes the word "Inn".
2. I'm not sure what my objection is, but I can't stand Dancing with the Stars. I literally hate that show. I was on the fence about it for a while, but then I decided that I really can't abide the show in any form. I suspect that this is because the show tried to convince me that Mario Lopez is sexy.
3. Despite living in the Buffalo area for seven years now (minus winter of 2002-2003, when we lived in Syracuse), I've never eaten at Louie's, and I hadn't eaten at Mighty Taco until just two years ago. Why? I dunno.
4. The Wife's first gift to me, back when she was The Girlfriend, was, if memory serves, a teddy bear with a lavender ribbon around his neck. I think she doused him with perfume. He's still around the apartment somewhere, although the ribbon may be gone; The Daughter probably has him in her stash of animals. I named him Bertrand, after Bertrand Russell. (I was a Philosophy major; what do you expect?) We ended up with a number of stuffed animals together, and we named a lot of them, although I only remember two: Bertrand the bear, and Barry the stuffed bison that we bought at the gift shop near Old Faithful at Yellowstone National Park. (Barry for Barry Bonds; this was 1992, when he was leading the Pirates to their third straight NL East title and well before any hint of steroid use.)
5. My first gift to The Wife was a little Laughing Buddha figurine that I bought at the gift shop at the mall in Olean, NY. That gift shop isn't there anymore. (In Olean, most things aren't there anymore.)
It wasn't quite what she expected for a first gift from a still-new boyfriend. I bought it for her while at home for spring break; we'd been dating for little more than a month, and I got a bit of a freakout when I tried to call her at the house where she was staying (in our Iowa college town; I was at home in WNY), and was informed by her landlord that there had been a death in her family. I worried a bit before I remembered that she had told me that her grandfather had been quite ill, and that's who it ended up being. The upshot was that I returned to college from spring break and immediately met my future in-laws. That was just slightly less nerve-wracking than some of the musical auditions I'd done in my life to that point.
6. In high school, I went on exactly one date. It was an OK date, I suppose; some girl (wow, I don't remember her name!) I met while playing in the All-County Band and I went to see some movie with Nick Nolte in it and then we went for ice cream at Friendly's. Not a disaster, but I clearly didn't make much of an impression, since the next couple of times I tried calling her for a follow-up date she said she was busy each time. How naïve was I? It took me that long to recognize that for a brush-off. Whoops!
7. And there was the girl that I didn't ask out. She was a very sweet person, quite short with lovely red hair and a terrific smile. I had a monster crush on her, and yet I never asked her out, although I did give her a rose at Valentine's Day. Yes, you read that right. I gave her a rose. On Valentine's Day. Didn't ask her out. Yeah, I've kicked myself ever since for that one – not out of any dissatisfaction with how things eventually turned out for me, love-wise, mind you! Just out of a "Wow, you were a putz back then!" older-me-wanting-to-kick-younger-me's-ass kind of thing.
A story about that girl (whose name I do remember, although I'm not going to post it here): I once got her in trouble in Trig class, and I felt a bit bad about it afterward, although she thought it funny and laughed it off. She sat in the seat ahead of mine, and we'd gab a bit in the off-moments in class and discuss our mutual disdain for the Trig teacher (whom I loathed, because while this particular teacher was wildly popular amongst the kids, she got that way by choosing one or two kids per class who'd be the brunt of her every joke, and guess who got to be one of her designated class clowns that year). But anyway, on the day in question, I actually fell asleep in Trig class. (Nothing against the teacher on that score, really; I can count on one hand the number of times I fell asleep in a class in high school. Now, in college, I slept through a lot of classes, but not in high school.)
So anyway, I slept through about fifteen minutes of class, and then I came to, just in time to be called on by the teacher. I, of course, had absolutely no clue what the hell the question was, to say nothing of the actual answer. I glanced from the teacher to my friend, the lovely red-head, who was grinning ear to ear as she beheld my expression of total horror. I just kind of gaped like an idiot, not saying anything, until the teacher moved on to asking someone else the question, at which point I tried to hide behind my book as my friend the lovely red-head began giggling. And she continued to giggle, and giggle, and giggle, until finally the teacher took note of her giggling and chewed her out.
That may be the angriest I've ever been toward one of my teachers.
Anyway, that particular class session couldn't end fast enough, and I was pretty well mortified and planned to get upbraided pretty harshly by the lovely red-head for getting her in trouble; but to my pleasant surprise, as soon as she came into the hall she dissolved into the laughter that she had to get out of her system. She wasn't mad at me at all.
I've always wondered whatever became of her. And I've always wondered if she ever thought along the lines of, "Geez, why doesn't that doof ask me out? He gave me a rose, for Pete's sake!"
So there we are, and now I must tag people. Yeesh. I choose...my, I don't know. I'll tag Steph and Nettl -- but each has to post seven things about the other! Heh! (Other than that, go ahead and tag yourselves, folks.)
1. My idea of an ideal vacation these days consists not of journeying to some far-flung and exotic locale, but simply packing some clothes, getting in the car, and driving somewhere, with only these rules: No driving on Interstates or expressways of any kind, and No eating at chain establishments (except for local chains that you'll only find in a single city, like Ted's in Buffalo). The Wife and I recently took such a journey, and it was as magical a weekend as I can remember. The best way to find good food? Drive into a town and eat at the place whose parking lot is full. Especially if the windows all have neon beer signs and the place's name includes the word "Inn".
2. I'm not sure what my objection is, but I can't stand Dancing with the Stars. I literally hate that show. I was on the fence about it for a while, but then I decided that I really can't abide the show in any form. I suspect that this is because the show tried to convince me that Mario Lopez is sexy.
3. Despite living in the Buffalo area for seven years now (minus winter of 2002-2003, when we lived in Syracuse), I've never eaten at Louie's, and I hadn't eaten at Mighty Taco until just two years ago. Why? I dunno.
4. The Wife's first gift to me, back when she was The Girlfriend, was, if memory serves, a teddy bear with a lavender ribbon around his neck. I think she doused him with perfume. He's still around the apartment somewhere, although the ribbon may be gone; The Daughter probably has him in her stash of animals. I named him Bertrand, after Bertrand Russell. (I was a Philosophy major; what do you expect?) We ended up with a number of stuffed animals together, and we named a lot of them, although I only remember two: Bertrand the bear, and Barry the stuffed bison that we bought at the gift shop near Old Faithful at Yellowstone National Park. (Barry for Barry Bonds; this was 1992, when he was leading the Pirates to their third straight NL East title and well before any hint of steroid use.)
5. My first gift to The Wife was a little Laughing Buddha figurine that I bought at the gift shop at the mall in Olean, NY. That gift shop isn't there anymore. (In Olean, most things aren't there anymore.)
It wasn't quite what she expected for a first gift from a still-new boyfriend. I bought it for her while at home for spring break; we'd been dating for little more than a month, and I got a bit of a freakout when I tried to call her at the house where she was staying (in our Iowa college town; I was at home in WNY), and was informed by her landlord that there had been a death in her family. I worried a bit before I remembered that she had told me that her grandfather had been quite ill, and that's who it ended up being. The upshot was that I returned to college from spring break and immediately met my future in-laws. That was just slightly less nerve-wracking than some of the musical auditions I'd done in my life to that point.
6. In high school, I went on exactly one date. It was an OK date, I suppose; some girl (wow, I don't remember her name!) I met while playing in the All-County Band and I went to see some movie with Nick Nolte in it and then we went for ice cream at Friendly's. Not a disaster, but I clearly didn't make much of an impression, since the next couple of times I tried calling her for a follow-up date she said she was busy each time. How naïve was I? It took me that long to recognize that for a brush-off. Whoops!
7. And there was the girl that I didn't ask out. She was a very sweet person, quite short with lovely red hair and a terrific smile. I had a monster crush on her, and yet I never asked her out, although I did give her a rose at Valentine's Day. Yes, you read that right. I gave her a rose. On Valentine's Day. Didn't ask her out. Yeah, I've kicked myself ever since for that one – not out of any dissatisfaction with how things eventually turned out for me, love-wise, mind you! Just out of a "Wow, you were a putz back then!" older-me-wanting-to-kick-younger-me's-ass kind of thing.
A story about that girl (whose name I do remember, although I'm not going to post it here): I once got her in trouble in Trig class, and I felt a bit bad about it afterward, although she thought it funny and laughed it off. She sat in the seat ahead of mine, and we'd gab a bit in the off-moments in class and discuss our mutual disdain for the Trig teacher (whom I loathed, because while this particular teacher was wildly popular amongst the kids, she got that way by choosing one or two kids per class who'd be the brunt of her every joke, and guess who got to be one of her designated class clowns that year). But anyway, on the day in question, I actually fell asleep in Trig class. (Nothing against the teacher on that score, really; I can count on one hand the number of times I fell asleep in a class in high school. Now, in college, I slept through a lot of classes, but not in high school.)
So anyway, I slept through about fifteen minutes of class, and then I came to, just in time to be called on by the teacher. I, of course, had absolutely no clue what the hell the question was, to say nothing of the actual answer. I glanced from the teacher to my friend, the lovely red-head, who was grinning ear to ear as she beheld my expression of total horror. I just kind of gaped like an idiot, not saying anything, until the teacher moved on to asking someone else the question, at which point I tried to hide behind my book as my friend the lovely red-head began giggling. And she continued to giggle, and giggle, and giggle, until finally the teacher took note of her giggling and chewed her out.
That may be the angriest I've ever been toward one of my teachers.
Anyway, that particular class session couldn't end fast enough, and I was pretty well mortified and planned to get upbraided pretty harshly by the lovely red-head for getting her in trouble; but to my pleasant surprise, as soon as she came into the hall she dissolved into the laughter that she had to get out of her system. She wasn't mad at me at all.
I've always wondered whatever became of her. And I've always wondered if she ever thought along the lines of, "Geez, why doesn't that doof ask me out? He gave me a rose, for Pete's sake!"
So there we are, and now I must tag people. Yeesh. I choose...my, I don't know. I'll tag Steph and Nettl -- but each has to post seven things about the other! Heh! (Other than that, go ahead and tag yourselves, folks.)
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Beers! Blogs!
UPDATED below and UPDATED again:
Yup, it's coming up, folks: the official Holiday season social gathering of navel-gazing keyboard pounders known as a Christmas Bloggercon! The date is December 8, the place (since no one's strenuously argued for another) is Buffalo Sports Garden, and the time? I'm guessing around 7:00, unless anyone thinks it should be later, around the 8:00 range. Bloggers, commenters, lurkers, and families thereof are welcome to attend. Given that this is a basic sports bar joint, I'm guessing that it's simply a "show up and see what's going on" type of thing. The Sabres do play that night, at San Jose, so it's a late game; we won't be battling a crowd on that basis.
For those who have never come to any kind of blogging get-together, well, I've only been to two of 'em myself, but my experience is that we don't actually blog while we're there. Because that would be, you know, lame. And we're not lame in Buffalo, are we?
UPDATE: Well, it seems that Jennifer can't make the 8th, so if everyone involved wants to move the meetup to the 9th, I'm fine with that. (I'm also perfectly fine with a change in venue; it's not like I had my heart set on that sports bar or anything, having just tossed that out there and not heard any suggestions otherwise!)
UPDATE II: OK, all this damned waffling on my part isn't helping the cause at all, is it? So I'll be at the afore-mentioned location at the time also afore-mentioned, on the 8th, as originally planned. Sorry for all the cock-ups on this thing, and if anyone wants to show up just to tell me how bad I am at event planning, well, I'll plead guilty as charged! And I hope to catch everyone else at another blogger event in the future.
Yup, it's coming up, folks: the official Holiday season social gathering of navel-gazing keyboard pounders known as a Christmas Bloggercon! The date is December 8, the place (since no one's strenuously argued for another) is Buffalo Sports Garden, and the time? I'm guessing around 7:00, unless anyone thinks it should be later, around the 8:00 range. Bloggers, commenters, lurkers, and families thereof are welcome to attend. Given that this is a basic sports bar joint, I'm guessing that it's simply a "show up and see what's going on" type of thing. The Sabres do play that night, at San Jose, so it's a late game; we won't be battling a crowd on that basis.
For those who have never come to any kind of blogging get-together, well, I've only been to two of 'em myself, but my experience is that we don't actually blog while we're there. Because that would be, you know, lame. And we're not lame in Buffalo, are we?
UPDATE: Well, it seems that Jennifer can't make the 8th, so if everyone involved wants to move the meetup to the 9th, I'm fine with that. (I'm also perfectly fine with a change in venue; it's not like I had my heart set on that sports bar or anything, having just tossed that out there and not heard any suggestions otherwise!)
UPDATE II: OK, all this damned waffling on my part isn't helping the cause at all, is it? So I'll be at the afore-mentioned location at the time also afore-mentioned, on the 8th, as originally planned. Sorry for all the cock-ups on this thing, and if anyone wants to show up just to tell me how bad I am at event planning, well, I'll plead guilty as charged! And I hope to catch everyone else at another blogger event in the future.
Autumn's Last Moments
Winter can't be far away now. This is Cazenovia Creek, at one of my favorite "secret spots" in the region. It's a "blink and you miss it" kind of view.
I never blink.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Sentential Links #118
'Tis time for the one hundred eighteenth installment. Wow. That's a lot of these. It's weird how blog-time works, isn't it? I still feel like I've been doing Sentential Links for a relatively short time -- and yet, when I started this series way back when, Star Wars Episode III hadn't come out yet and my son was still alive. Wow.
Anyway, here we go with this week's linkage:
:: Remember these props. The coffee and the Pepsi. They're Chekhov's gun, the one he said that if you bring it on stage in Act One has to go off in Act Three. (Why can't I write stuff like this?)
:: I'm trying to reformat how I use food so it becomes something that NOURISHES me, not a means of self indulgence. (The health practitioner I've been seeing of late has a poster on his wall that reads: "Americans are overfed and undernourished." I'm trying to focus more on nourishment these days, and not just with food, either.)
:: Americans really need to ask themselves some questions about how comfortable they are with things being done in their name.
:: So I finally saw Spider-Man 3. I expected to be entertained but disappointed - all the stuff I read about the film had me expecting to find the film overstuffed, with a weak plot, not enough depth, and generally just glossier and less textured than the second film. So of course it's my favorite of the three Spider-Man films. (Crikey! Now, I didn't dislike the movie, but there's no way it's better than Spiderman 2.)
:: Libertarians -- glah. What can you say? I'd like to live utterly independent of everyone else, too, with every transaction that occurs between myself and others being an entirely volitional one in which I have full bargaining power. But the real world has never worked like that and never will, and libertarianism will always remain an adolescent fantasy due to this.
:: Listen, I get it. You love free markets. So do I. I just know that they weren't designed by Jesus. They're not perfect, and sometimes you need a union not out of any high moral stance, but just to maintain fair business practices.
To paraphrase a previous post -- I live with the tiger, I love it, but I respect its teeth and instincts. Stop asking why I don't just pet the kitty.
:: After all the maniacs, torturers and zombies of our times, who is the scariest person of them all? The cornered little man with no scruples.
And that'll do it for this week.
Anyway, here we go with this week's linkage:
:: Remember these props. The coffee and the Pepsi. They're Chekhov's gun, the one he said that if you bring it on stage in Act One has to go off in Act Three. (Why can't I write stuff like this?)
:: I'm trying to reformat how I use food so it becomes something that NOURISHES me, not a means of self indulgence. (The health practitioner I've been seeing of late has a poster on his wall that reads: "Americans are overfed and undernourished." I'm trying to focus more on nourishment these days, and not just with food, either.)
:: Americans really need to ask themselves some questions about how comfortable they are with things being done in their name.
:: So I finally saw Spider-Man 3. I expected to be entertained but disappointed - all the stuff I read about the film had me expecting to find the film overstuffed, with a weak plot, not enough depth, and generally just glossier and less textured than the second film. So of course it's my favorite of the three Spider-Man films. (Crikey! Now, I didn't dislike the movie, but there's no way it's better than Spiderman 2.)
:: Libertarians -- glah. What can you say? I'd like to live utterly independent of everyone else, too, with every transaction that occurs between myself and others being an entirely volitional one in which I have full bargaining power. But the real world has never worked like that and never will, and libertarianism will always remain an adolescent fantasy due to this.
:: Listen, I get it. You love free markets. So do I. I just know that they weren't designed by Jesus. They're not perfect, and sometimes you need a union not out of any high moral stance, but just to maintain fair business practices.
To paraphrase a previous post -- I live with the tiger, I love it, but I respect its teeth and instincts. Stop asking why I don't just pet the kitty.
:: After all the maniacs, torturers and zombies of our times, who is the scariest person of them all? The cornered little man with no scruples.
And that'll do it for this week.
Bill 13, Dolphins 10
I didn't see all of this game; in fact, I pretty much missed the entire first quarter and the first few minutes of the second. Turns out I didn't miss much, as the Bills waited until the fourth quarter to pretty much do anything at all in beating the worst team in the NFL. Seriously, Miami is a total mess of a franchise.
:: After that disastrous 0-3 start to the season, the Bills are actually above .500, and at 5-4, they've matched my predicted win total for them this season. (Remember, I'd picked them to go 5-11.)
:: Ryan Lindell made a game winning field goal at the end, with the score tied at the time. Everyone who insists that despite his accuracy he's still not a "clutch kicker" is now lacking a bit of ammunition for their argument (such as it was).
:: Clutch defense. They gave up a 100-yard rusher today, but still made some big plays when it counted.
:: JP Losman. Look, I'm rooting for the guy, but he couldn't do much of anything at all against the league's worst defense? This was the kind of game we'd hoped for out of him last season, but this isn't last season. Losman is now a veteran, and he should be able to go into the house of the worst D in the NFL and do better than 12 of 23 for 157 yards, no TDs, and a pick. Yeesh. Losman's been in the league for as long as Ben Roeythlissburgerr (pretty sure I spelled that wrong), but Losman's still "developing" while Big Ben's won a Super Bowl, been to two AFC championship games, and currently has his team at 7-2? Oy.
I accept that Losman's time here is nearing its end, and that we're awaiting the official beginning of the Trent Edwards era. At least Losman could go out swinging, and enhance his trade value. Games like today aren't going to help much.
:: The offensive line. We were told in the preseason, "Wait for the rebuilt line to gel, and then you'll see good things." Instead, we're still seeing Marshawn Lynch run 19 times for only 61 yards. God, I hope Marv Levy uses next year's draft to bring in some young O-line talent.
:: One first down in the first half? A third quarter score of 3-2? Huh?
There wasn't a whole lot to love about this game. It was a game. Dull. Boring to watch. A game to have on when you're in a cafe with free WiFi, so you can blog while halfway paying attention.
Next week? Smuggy McBrady and the rest of his nest of coiled vipers come to town. I can't wait. (Well, yes I can, because let's be realistic: this game is highly unlikely to go well for the Bills. I do hope that if the Forces of Evil start running up the score, throwing long passes and going for fourth-down conversions while up more than three TDs in the second half, the Bills have more moxie than the Redskins did and actually take some shots at Smuggy McBrady.)
Veterans
Eric Bogle
Well, how do you do, young Willie McBride,
Do you mind if I sit down here by your graveside?
And rest for awhile 'neath the warm summer sun,
I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done.
I see by your gravestone you were only 19
When you joined the great fallen in 1916,
I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean
Or, Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?
Did they Beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly?
Did they sound the death-march as they lowered you down?
Did the band play The Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?
Did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some faithful heart is your memory enshrined?
And, though you died back in 1916,
To that faithful heart are you forever 19?
Or are you a stranger without even a name,
Enshrined then, forever, behind a glass pane,
In an old photograph, torn and tattered and stained,
And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame?
Did they Beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly?
Did they sound the death-march as they lowered you down?
Did the band play The Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?
The sun's shining down on these green fields of France;
The warm wind blows gently, and the red poppies dance.
The trenches have vanished long under the plow;
No gas and no barbed wire, no guns firing now.
But here in this graveyard that's still No Man's Land
The countless white crosses in stand mute in the sand
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man,
And a whole generation who were butchered and damned.
Did they Beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly?
Did they sound the death-march as they lowered you down?
Did the band play The Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?
And I can't help but wonder, no Willie McBride,
Do all those who lie here know why they died?
Did they really believe when they answered the call,
Did they really believe that this war would end wars?
Well the sorrow, the suffering, the glory, the pain
The killing and dying, was all done in vain,
For young Willie McBride, it all happened again,
And again, and again, and again, and again.
Did they Beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly?
Did they sound the death-march as they lowered you down?
Did the band play The Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Sunday Burst of Weirdness
Free the Sigma Six!
Here in Erie County, we just elected a new County Executive, who takes over a county that's been pretty much of a mess for years. The incoming Exec, Christopher Collins, is a local businessman, new to politics, who pulled off one of those "Political newcomer who will run government like a business" campaigns. This, coupled with a fairly uninspiring candidate on the other side, led to his election. All this is pretty run of the mill stuff. People are always coming along, running for office on the basis that they'll run government like a business. I'm always a tad skeptical of such talk, since it always strikes me as talk that sounds good, but it's generally hard to tell what it really means. Governments aren't businesses, their focus isn't profit generation, and so on. To me, "run government like a business" is little more than feel-good rhetoric, right up there with Rudy Giuliani's "stay on offense in the War on Terror" and Al Gore's "Social Security lockbox" and all the rest.
However, we do have some idea of how County Exec Collins is going to run things like a business: he's planning to implement something called "Six Sigma", which is, according to WikiPedia, "a set of practices originally developed by Motorola to systematically improve processes by eliminating defects." That's all well and good, but of course, Six Sigma or no, that's what any good manager tries to do: improve the way things are done by figuring what's not working so well and ditching it. So Chris Collins is going to use Six Sigma to get his "Run Erie County like a business plan" going. Fine, I suppose; but if you're like me, and you've spent as much time as I have in the company of various management types, you've heard this sort of thing before. If there's one eternal skill that business types have, it's dressing fairly simple ideas up in "golly whiz" terminology. Spend any time in corporate America at all and you'll hear stuff like this constantly. Some people will be diehard adherents of the system in play, while for others, Six Sigma will be "that thing we tried back in 2007".
All this is fairly harmless stuff. Looking through some stuff on the web about Six Sigma, it all seems fairly innocuous, and in competent hands, it may even work well, although I'm always less inclined to credit the new "Gee whiz!" business tool with the success than the competent people who implement it. I've been around the block a little bit, folks, and believe me, the competent person who flies by the seat of her pants will usually beat out the inept person with a system in the end.
So what's my problem? Why am I posting this, and what's with that picture heading this post? There's an aspect to Six Sigma that strikes me as colossally silly. Apparently there are levels of proficiency depending on training and focus, and those levels are titled as the levels in the martial arts. So when Chris Collins talks about hiring a Six Sigma person to come in and help him out, he isn't hiring a consultant or an expert or something like that. No, he's hiring a "Black Belt".
Well, sorry, Six Sigma devotees, but that's where I get off the bus. This kind of terminology makes it nearly impossible for people like me, who just want to see the damned local government stop sucking quite so much, take things seriously. Now, instead of seeing serious people take a serious approach, I'm wondering if becoming a Six Sigma Black Belt requires making a big circle with the left hand to get the wax on, and a reverse circle with the right to get the wax off. Over in this BuffaloPundit thread about Six Sigma coming to Buffalo, someone asks how one becomes a Six Sigma Black Belt. With a title like that, it disappoints me to learn that it has nothing to do with single combat between office workers using staplers as nunchucks.
One of the things that makes The Office such a brilliant show is its skewering of management-speak, the jargon-heavy way that managers talk and the whole cottage industry of management consulting that has sprung up in the business world. And when we start drawing parallels between expert consultants and black belt karate masters, the only reaction I can muster up is a healthy snigger.
None of this, by the way, should be construed as skepticism that a Six Sigma approach can help with Erie County's governmental problems. However, here's an interesting article suggesting that the bloom is off the Six Sigma rose. A cursory glance through some links relating to Six Sigma conveys the strong impression that there's not really anything new with it; rather, it's a new way of codifying an old idea. And take it from me, there will always be a new way of codifying old ideas. In twenty years, Six Sigma will be in the management history books, and some other nifty new program utilizing the same notions of quality improvement will be all the rage. And maybe then the consultants will carry titles like "Padawan".
UPDATE: Pundit follows up, here and here.
Shop the Southtowns!
Some local retail stuff:
:: Well, I finally made it into B is for Books the other night, after several consecutive weekends of meaning to get there but not managing to do so (running low on funds one week, The Daughter being under the weather the next, and so on). Let me tell you, folks, this is just a terrific place. Please don't let its location, in outlying Orchard Park, be a deterrent to coming here! It can easily be made part of a Southtowns shopping excursion, especially if you're going to the stores at Quaker Crossing; central Orchard Park is about a ten minute drive away from Quaker Crossing, and by extension, about fifteen minutes from the McKinley Mall area. And it's one of those local, independent businesses we're all supposed to be keen on. Small business, locally owned. Entrepreneurship, in nigh-Socialist Erie County.
The store itself? It's a bright and airy place, for one thing; lots of room to browse. Plenty of places to sit and look through the books, or to sit and read to your kids, or whatever. The selection is pretty impressive as well; overall the store is about twice the size of the childrens section at your local Borders or B&N. The analogy I'd make is that this is the bookstore equivalent of Clayton's in Williamsville.
So yeah, we're big fans already, and I really hope this place succeeds. Indie bookstores aren't exactly a growth industry these days.
:: We haven't been there yet, but The Good Toy Shop is a mile from Casa Jaquandor. It's as though the Gods are actively scheming ways to part me from my money, but for some reason, they're not alternately scheming ways to give me more money to part with. What's up with that? Anyhow, once we've scoped out The Good Toy Shop, I will report on its offerings. (Can it be coincidence that it's three doors down from my favorite liquor store?)
:: I can't vouch for them at all, but there's a custom computer joint called Technophobia that's been open for a while now. I drive by it every day on my way to The Store (it's on Orchard Park Road in West Seneca). What I can vouch for is that they took an old eyesore of a house and renovated it to house their business, complete with new paint job and everything. I'm always happy to see old structures used for new businesses, as opposed to the constant construction of new McPlazas that end up sitting empty with the "Leasing Now!" sign out front.
:: Does anybody besides me think that the Buffalo area really needs a blog like the Syracuse Post Standard's Store Front? Hmmmmm....
:: Well, I finally made it into B is for Books the other night, after several consecutive weekends of meaning to get there but not managing to do so (running low on funds one week, The Daughter being under the weather the next, and so on). Let me tell you, folks, this is just a terrific place. Please don't let its location, in outlying Orchard Park, be a deterrent to coming here! It can easily be made part of a Southtowns shopping excursion, especially if you're going to the stores at Quaker Crossing; central Orchard Park is about a ten minute drive away from Quaker Crossing, and by extension, about fifteen minutes from the McKinley Mall area. And it's one of those local, independent businesses we're all supposed to be keen on. Small business, locally owned. Entrepreneurship, in nigh-Socialist Erie County.
The store itself? It's a bright and airy place, for one thing; lots of room to browse. Plenty of places to sit and look through the books, or to sit and read to your kids, or whatever. The selection is pretty impressive as well; overall the store is about twice the size of the childrens section at your local Borders or B&N. The analogy I'd make is that this is the bookstore equivalent of Clayton's in Williamsville.
So yeah, we're big fans already, and I really hope this place succeeds. Indie bookstores aren't exactly a growth industry these days.
:: We haven't been there yet, but The Good Toy Shop is a mile from Casa Jaquandor. It's as though the Gods are actively scheming ways to part me from my money, but for some reason, they're not alternately scheming ways to give me more money to part with. What's up with that? Anyhow, once we've scoped out The Good Toy Shop, I will report on its offerings. (Can it be coincidence that it's three doors down from my favorite liquor store?)
:: I can't vouch for them at all, but there's a custom computer joint called Technophobia that's been open for a while now. I drive by it every day on my way to The Store (it's on Orchard Park Road in West Seneca). What I can vouch for is that they took an old eyesore of a house and renovated it to house their business, complete with new paint job and everything. I'm always happy to see old structures used for new businesses, as opposed to the constant construction of new McPlazas that end up sitting empty with the "Leasing Now!" sign out front.
:: Does anybody besides me think that the Buffalo area really needs a blog like the Syracuse Post Standard's Store Front? Hmmmmm....
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Joss! Joss! He's our man!!! (again)
Jason points out this post by Joss Whedon on the Writer's Strike. I know I just posted about the strike fifteen minutes ago or thereabouts, but this deserves its own entry. Here's the kernel that makes me stand up and cheer:
It’s necessary, though. We’re talking about story-telling, the most basic human need. Food? That’s an animal need. Shelter? That’s a luxury item that leads to social grouping, which leads directly to fancy scarves. But human awareness is all about story-telling. The selective narrative of your memory. The story of why the Sky Bully throws lightning at you. From the first, stories, even unspoken, separated us from the other, cooler beasts. And now we’re talking about the stories that define our nation’s popular culture – a huge part of its identity. These are the people that think those up. Working writers.
Storytelling is the most basic human need. What a great thought that is.
At last!
Unidentified Earth 21 has finally been Identified! I suspect that part of the problem was that, as I admitted in a subsequent post, I had cropped the image of the location so that only half of the really famous part was showing, which made it harder, of course. Because I'm just devious, I'll tell you what! Here's the entire location:
Yup, it's Stone Mountain, near Atlanta, Georgia. Hence the hints I dropped: "Tomorrow is another day", a line from Gone With the Wind, set in Atlanta; an allusion to Atlanta's water supply problems; "Quit stonewalling, people!", a reference to Stonewall Jackson, one of the guys depicted in the carvings on the mountain.
So congrats to reader VMH, who earns fifty thousand Quatloos to be spent at Misty Max's Den of Despair on Rigel Seven. (Interstellar transportation not provided.)
Yup, it's Stone Mountain, near Atlanta, Georgia. Hence the hints I dropped: "Tomorrow is another day", a line from Gone With the Wind, set in Atlanta; an allusion to Atlanta's water supply problems; "Quit stonewalling, people!", a reference to Stonewall Jackson, one of the guys depicted in the carvings on the mountain.
So congrats to reader VMH, who earns fifty thousand Quatloos to be spent at Misty Max's Den of Despair on Rigel Seven. (Interstellar transportation not provided.)
Striker!
Roger has some good linkage relating to the Hollywood writers' strike. SamuraiFrog also has some pithy observations, mostly relating to Michael Eisner, who said something dumb.
Obviously, I support the strike, for whatever that's worth. (I imagine all those picketing writers suddenly letting loose a whoop and holler of delight upon learning that some blogger from Buffalo who gets about 300 hits a day is on their side.) Once you've read William Goldman's books Adventures in the Screen Trade and Which Lie Did I Tell?, you quickly realize that Hollywood management is largely comprised of people who would steal the coins from a dead man's eyes. So yeah, a pox on their house.
Pay your writers, guys. They're why your actors have stuff to say when the camera's pointing at them.
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Fixing the Prequels - The Phantom Menace (part two)
As we continue fixing The Phantom Menace, we have reached the point where Qui Gon and Obi Wan have escaped death on the Trade Federation ship and are sneaking down to the surface of Naboo. There's a scene where Queen Amidala speaks to Nute Gunray, and this scene is followed by the Queen conferring with her highest counselors. I would change none of this. I like the mystery here as it's unfolding: the Queen's belief that the ambassadors have arrived and commanded the Federation to make settlement, while the Federation insists that the ambassadors have never arrived. Likewise, the scene in the Naboo throne room is well done, and I'd leave that alone completely. Where I'd start tweaking things is when we reconnected with the two Jedi.
Remember, Qui Gon and Obi Wan have stowed away on separate ships and plan to meet somehow on the planet surface. Nute Gunray warns his battle droid captain that the two Jedi are no longer aboard the ship in orbit, and that they are therefore almost certainly stowing away. This sets up a bit of sneaking around for the Jedi, but this sneaking around didn't happen onscreen, which is a bit of a pity. In reality, the original script has things going slightly differently as was filmed. As the droid army ships land, we see Obi Wan pop his head out of a pond, look around, and then disappear again beneath the water. Then we'd cut to the Viceroy warning the droid captain that the two Jedi have escaped the orbiting ship and are therefore likely on the planet. And after that, we meet Jar Jar Binks.
Okay. Before getting to specifics, let's discuss Jar Jar in general. Basically, Jar Jar is probably the single most hated facet of the prequel trilogy. While I never hated him – in fact, I rather like him – he's got some serious execution problems. He gets a bit too much screen time, and he's almost uniformly the goofy screwball for the entire time, not getting a moment where he can just stand there are quietly talk until late in the movie, by which time it's too late. So that's a place to begin with fixing Jar Jar.
It's also interesting to note that Jar Jar isn't just along for the ride; he has a definite character arc, mainly in TPM but also in the remaining PT. Jar Jar is the annoying kid who screws up a lot, but who has a lot of heart and ends up doing fairly well by himself and by his people. Where Lucas errs, then, is in not showing us early enough that Jar Jar has quite a bit of potential.
When we first see Jar Jar, he's among the creatures running wildly in fear away from the giant droid army transports that are literally plowing their way through the forests of Naboo. Qui Gon is among these creatures, and finds Jar Jar directly in his way. Jar Jar, panicking, grabs onto Qui Gon and falls down, dragging the Jedi master to the ground with him, where they lay still as the droid transport moves right over the top of them. How to make this better? Well, I'd show a dispirited, lonely Jar Jar wandering lonely through the woods, searching for food – maybe he'd find a worm and reject it for taste – when he'd suddenly note an animal running by...and then another...and another, until it's a full-fledged stampede. Then he'd see Qui Gon coming.
After the droid transport passes, I'd revise the ensuing dialog a bit:
QUI GON: You almost got us killed! Are you brainless?
JAR JAR: I spake.
QUI GON: The ability to speak does not make you intelligent. Now get out of here!
JAR JAR: No! No...mesa stay with you. Mesa help. Mesa Gungan. Wesa warriors.
QUI GON: That won't be necessary. Now go...
At this point, Obi Wan comes bursting out of some nearby vegetation, closely pursued by a battle droid on a floating attack vehicle. Qui Gon quickly dispatches the battle droid, and attention once again turns to Jar Jar. However, in the shooting script, there's a bit that answers the question of why Obi Wan didn't just destroy the battle droid himself. It seems that he got his lightsaber soaked and now the battery's dead. I like this, and I'd keep it. Here's the gist of what I'd do:
QUI GON: I see you're wet...did you seal your lightsaber before going under?
OBI WAN: (sheepishly) I forgot, Master. I was near to being discovered, and --
QUI GON: Indeed.
He takes Obi Wan's lightsaber and tries to ignite it; the blade fizzles and shorts out.
QUI GON: It'll dry out in time, although it won't work perfectly until you replace the crystal. Remember, Padawan, this weapon is your life.
OBI WAN: Yes, Master.
Reading through the shooting script, I find a lot of little touches that I really think would have enhanced the final product. I wish that George Lucas had been a bit more willing to indulge longer running times in the PT. Another benefit of including this bit would be to presage an exchange in the next film, and to further establish the teacher-student relationship between Qui Gon and Obi Wan.
Anyway, we move on to Jar Jar's statement that the Jedi should go to the Gungan city, the hidden city. Here again I'd have Jar Jar point out that the Gungans are warriors. In fact, I'd drive this point home, the idea being that Jar Jar's big problem is that he's a failed warrior in a civilization of warriors. Other than that, I've always liked the entire bit with Jar Jar first saying that the Jedi should go to the Gungan City, then saying that he can't take them there because he's banished, and Qui Gon and Obi Wan manipulating Jar Jar's fears to convince him to take them to the Gungan City after all: "Do you hear that? That is the sound of a thousand terrible things headed this way." "And if they find us, they will smash us, crush us, and grind us into oblivion!" I like that exchange a great deal.
So we're at the lake where Jar Jar points out that they are going underwater. Here again I'd have Jar Jar point out that the Gungans are warriors, maybe in noting that the Jedi shouldn't expect a warm welcome – something like, "Gungans are warriors and no liking strangers, so don't expecting a warm welcome."
And as long as I'm going into detailed stuff about TPM, I frankly think that the first sight of the Gungan city, as they swim over an underwater cliff and see all those golden bubbles hanging there before them, is one of those beautiful sights that fill each of the Star Wars movies. That's one of the visuals that makes me a Star Wars fan.
The scene with Qui Gon and Obi Wan requesting aid of the Gungan rulers doesn't really work as well as it should. First of all, that facial tic of Boss Nass's – the one where he suddenly shakes his head and wobbles his jowls back and forth – needs to go. I'm not really sure what that's all about.
Second, the scene should play the differences between the Gungans and the Naboo up a little more, and again, accentuate the "warrior Gungans" thing a bit more:
OBI WAN: When the droids have taken control of the Naboo, they will come after you.
BOSS NASS: Wesa no think so. They not knowing wesa are here. And wesa warriors! We can fight them if they come.
OBI WAN: But you and the Naboo form a symbiont circle. What happens to one happens to the other. You must see this.
BOSS NASS: Dissen not true. Wesa no need the Naboo, wesa no care about the Naboo, and the Naboo no care about us. Yousa must leave now.
QUI GON: (waves his hand) Then speed us on our way....
And so on. When we get to Qui Gon's intercession on Jar Jar's behalf, I'd again alter the dialogue slightly:
QUI GON: What's to become of Jar Jar Binks?
BOSS NASS: Hesa been banished three times, and hesa come back each time! So hesa to be punished.
I especially like here the benevolent smile Boss Nass gives when he indicates that Jar Jar is to be "punished", followed by Jar Jar's swallow of fear. The rest of this scene plays out all right, and then we're into the whole transit through "the planet core".
Now, I know that they're not really going through the planet's core. And I have no problem with that, OK? So no complaining about that. The entire underwater sequence of TPM has actually always been one of my favorite parts of the movie, and the only changes I would make would be mostly cosmetic. Jar Jar, for example, talks too much through the whole sequence.
There's a line in the script that isn't heard in the movie; Obi Wan asks of Qui Gon something like, "Master, why do you keep dragging these pathetic life forms with us?" I don't know why that line got cut, since its echoing line later on the movie (on Tatooine) is still present. I suspect that it makes Obi Wan too much of an egoist jerk, but I'd rather that line have stayed. As they pilot the sub away from the Gungan City, something like this:
JAR JAR: Through the Core? In a bongo? Dis is nutsen.
OBI WAN: Why do we always end up with some pathetic life form tagging along with us?
QUI GON: All life is bound by the living Force, young Padawan, and even the strongest Jedi needs allies.
JAR JAR: Where we going?
QUI GON: You're navigating, aren't you?
JAR JAR: I no go through the Core in just a bongo! We get crunched dere!
QUI GON: Well then, the Force will guide us.
The sub steers into a deep hole, followed by a giant fish.
OBI WAN: Why were you banished, Jar Jar?
JAR JAR: Dis a longo tale but small part be...mesa clumsy.
OBI WAN: You were banished because you were clumsy?
Jar Jar looks sadder and sadder.
JAR JAR: Mesa never be Gungan warrior now.
In the actual script (and the film), Jar Jar goes on to describe some of the clumsy things he's done. The problem is that it's hard to understand what he's talking about in the first place (what's a "heyblibber"?), and it only serves to fill up some time while the big fish looms behind them. I think it works better if it's just left at Jar Jar being clumsy, something we already know, and the unexplained nature of his banishment serves to better underscore his disappointment in himself (enhancing his character arc) and the manner in which he's not representative of most Gungans.
Anyway, now the big fish attacks. I'd like to have seen this drawn out slightly before the even bigger fish attacks the big fish, freeing the sub. That said, Qui Gon's sage observation that "There's always a bigger fish" is a good line.
There's a brief scene next on the bridge of the Trade Federation ship, where Nute Gunray reports to Darth Sidious that the invasion is going well. But he omits any mention of the Jedi who escaped, and when his second-in-command points this out, Gunray replies, "No need to report that to him until we have something to report." I like this scene, and wouldn't change anything about it.
Back to the sub, where they're cruising along through the water when they lose power. I'd add an observation here as to the cause – "The smaller fish did some damage before the bigger fish got him, Master" – and then let it play out as in the movie. I like Jar Jar's shrill panic, especially when the get the lights back on and find that they're right in front of some other beastie. In fact, I'd have milked that a bit, and had Jar Jar's shrieking go on a few seconds more before Qui Gon conks him out with the Jedi Nerve Pinch. (Well, that's basically what it is, right?) However, instead of having Obi Wan say "You overdid it" – was Qui Gon not supposed to conk Jar Jar out? -- I'd have Obi Wan simply say, with great relief, "Thank you!" For freakishly obsessive Star Wars fans, this would echo a similar moment between Han Solo, Princess Leia, and an incessantly-talking C-3PO in The Empire Strikes Back.
After they'd escape the second beastie to another bigger fish, I'd like to hear something like this:
QUI GON: We're getting closer to the Naboo City. I can feel it in the Force.
OBI WAN: Good. I don't know how many more bigger fish are going to save us, down here.
JAR JAR: (moaning from his sleep) Are wesa dere yet?
So there we have it: a beginning to the redemption of Jar Jar Binks. Next time, we'll look at the invasion of Naboo, the rescue of the Queen, and the beginnings of Padme's subterfuge.
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