Monday, March 24, 2008
Slowly Twisting in the Wind
Here's one of Kristin and my favorite songs from college. We used to just find it funny, but now it's taken on a whole new meaning.
She set your goldfish free
And now she's sighing
Blew out your pilot light
And made a wish
She doesn't have to have
Her dB's record back now
But there's not a lot of things
That she'll take back
She wants to see you again
She wants to see you again
Slowly twisting
In the wind
Twisting twisting
In the wind
She's not your satellite
She doesn't miss you
So turn off your smoke machine
And Marshall stack
She doesn't have to have
Her Young Fresh Fellows tape back now
But there's not a lot of things
That she'll take back
She wants to see you again
She wants to see you again
Slowly twisting
In the wind
Twisting twisting
In the wind
She wants to see you again
She wants to see you again
Slowly twisting
In the wind
Twisting twisting
In the wind
Labels: Anti-Fun, Modern Life
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Saturday, December 22, 2007
Elance changes
Elance has once again changed their rules, and not for the better.Originally, elance had a simple subscription service. You paid a yearly fee, and then you were able to bid on all projects that were posted to the site in your category. As elance grew, this system led to upwards of a hundred bids per project. In an attempt to cut down on the number of bids and make the process easier for buyers, elance changed their terms of service to limit the number of bids based on the subscription level of a provider. Although more restrictive, this new process had some of the effect they had intended and things seemed to stabilize.
Not anymore. Facing another crunch, elance has selected to change the bid system to connects, and severely restrict the number of connects that come with a subscription. Now, instead of having 240 bids per month, we have 15 connects. Fifteen.
It gets better. If a project has a higher budget, it costs more connects to bid. So a $1000 dollar project costs a provider 3 connects instead of 1.
Mnd you, spending the connect does not mean you win the project, It means you have bid to win. elance's bid to award ration still sits at around 5-10% for design, so you can see that the odds of a provider winning a project are rather slim if one goes with the fifteen connects.
Oh, you can have more connects. For a low, low cost of .50 cents per connect.
By the way, if you have more than one subscription, such as one in graphic and one in web, you still only get fifteen, not thirty.
I think the net result of this move will allow the largest earners to continue business as they have, as with a larger revenue stream they will be able to continue to purchase additional connects. But for the smaller provider, it means lean times, having to pick and choose from the smallest projects, trying to conserve their connects and spread them out for the better chance of winning the project. No sense only making five bids on heavily competitive projects than fifteen on the projects that fall through the cracks.
The jury is still out if this will be a boon for elance or just create a new set of unforeseen troubles for the company. But it definitely means leaner times for a lot of freelancers that relied on elance to fill in the margins of the work schedule.
Labels: Anti-Fun, Got a Permit for Breathing, Modern Life
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Friday, December 07, 2007
Bada-Bing Barda Doom
Ever hear of the Women in Refrigerators theory about comic books? It's a theory that women more often that not suffer the worse fates in comic books than the male counterparts. Superheroines routinely lose their powers, get raped, or are cut up and stuck in the refrigerator. This also happens to supporting characters, be it friends, girlfriends, or relatives. Comics writer Gail Simone writes about the trend and gives in examples on the Women in Refrigerators website.A big example of this just took place in the mini-series Death of the New Gods, wherein a mysterious assassin killed Big Barda. Big Barda often takes on Superman - and beats the snot out of him for awhile before he gets the upper hand. She is nigh indestructible, projects cosmic energy, can see into the sub-atomic level, and can manipulate energy and matter in any way she sees fit. Oh, and she can teleport at will and instantaneously heal other living beings.
Essentially she's a female Silver Surfer, with a pinker complexion (and a nifty Kirby headdress).
And she died, in between panels, in a kitchen, while unpacking groceries.
What?
I know Barda wasn't a first tier DC character, but given her character background, that death is simply impossible. Batman could certainly die a death like that. He's got no real superpowers, just a keen mind and an amazingly conditioned body. A villain could conceivably skewer him in the middle of the night while he was making an omelet.
I don't expect to see that plot development. Ever.
Hence, my full-fledged acceptance of the Women in Refrigerators theory.
Labels: Anti-Fun, Hey Kids - Comics, The Great Divide
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6 Cents Added:
Have you been reading Gail Simone's work in Wonder Woman and The all new Atom? I've been enjoying The all new Atom in particular. It's a nice relief from the gloom and doom of Countdown and Sinestro Corps.
DC has been busy with the killing in recent Countdown issues. IIRC most of the New Gods have had very quick, or off panel deaths.
By 
, at 9:24 PM
I have to say I've been playing armchair quarterback with comic books for a while now. It got too darn expensive, and now I find I can keep up with the story just by perusing the web for a few minutes every now and then.
Gail Simone will be coming to our college for a conference next year - we have one of the few English department in the country that really does serious academic study of comic books. Life is good.
WiR is not about more women getting killed than men, it's about the way women are killed as motivation for men.
And yes, Barda was killed in a pathetic way, but I'd say the Black Racer got it worse. The narration was all about how miserable and lonely a life he had and now he's dead, in direct contradiction of the way Kirby presented him.
In fact, since every single one of the New Gods is scheduled to get it in the neck by the end of the series, and most of them so far have been done off panel, or by shots from the sky, to single out one example and try to make any kind of case for prejudice puts you on shaky ground.
By Marionette, at 6:26 AM
Have you actually read Death of the New Gods?
Every single New God is going out this way not just Barda. The Black Racer was killed while in a hospital bed, he's crippled. The Forever People were found as corpses and every single New God was killed off panel or with no or very little resistance. There are WiR moments but this was not one of them.
Still, this essay makes a pretty good case for why Big Barda's death is the most ludicrous of the New Gods deaths.
I seriously think it's inappropriate for Kirby's grandiose mythology to be done in during a dishwater dull murder mystery. Rather paltry and more than a little insulting.
By 
Joel Bryan, at 5:41 PM
Sorry. I still have to say it does fit the WiR mold... perhaps not directly as a theme in the comic in which it occurred, but as an example of the trend in general as seen in all comics taken as a whole. Just because all of the New Gods are written out this way does not mean it negates the fact that Barda's death fits the definition put forth for WiR.
Why is it that no writer or editor seems to look carefully at a character's history and make decisions based on those traits versus what the writer thinks is important for their current story?
Monday, September 17, 2007
It's the End of the World As We Know It
"Still, some dreams refuse to die. Some souls never know when the cause is lost. Such ignorance can be truly awe-inspiring!" - Jim Starlin, Infinity Gauntlet
End of the world narratives are a dime a dozen. It's always been a popular foray for science fiction writers, probably best exemplified by the 1990s revival of The Outer Limits (I dare anyone to find an episode of this show where mankind doesn;t kill itself off by the end of the hour). This summer I read three separate narratives about the event, each with their own unique take on what the end of history would mean for both man and the world. And nary a Mok in sight.
The Road
Let me begin by saying that the Road, by Cormac McCarthy, is the most unrelenting piece of horror fiction I have ever read - and this is coming from someone who enjoys the work of Poe, Lovecraft, and Steven King. In a lot of respects, the basic premise of McCarthy's work is similar to that of King's novella The Mist, and although King's novel centers mostly on the dissolution of society that McCarthy only alludes to in flashback, both stories then rely on the concept of a father and son traveling down a road in search of salvation.
Incredibly, King's ending feels far more optimistic, ending with the word 'hope'; there is a chance that there is an end to the all-consuming mist, just down the road. In McCarthy's novel, however, the blasted wasteland of earth continues unendingly, and its hopeful turn at the end feels more like a brief respite than a turning point in the fortunes of the protagonist, kind of the like the false hopeful ending of most horror films prior to that final punch.The Road is an intimate look at the relationship of a father and son, and McCarthy allows us to concentrate on that relationship by stripping the world around it to its barest core. The novel is more than this however; it is an epic journey, and in a lot of ways in reminiscent of the journey of Frodo and Samwise in the Lord of the Rings. However, there is no miraculous rescue on the wings of Golden eagles, nor is there a promise of renewal as Sam regrows the Shire with the boon of Galadriel; there is unremittant spiraling towards the end of the world.
This dark conclusions parked a great deal of discussion in the reading group I was part of. Most felt this novel talked about the end of the world, the end of man and all life on Earth, and initially I agreed. Later, however, I came to feel that there was some concept of hope in the novel, a stubborn persistence of life to find a way to survive. Life could still exist in deep caves or deep under the sea under volcanic vents. It is possible that man himself could survive. A nuclear winter has to end, and life will flourish again. The only question that remains is if man is there to see it.
In an amazing example or far-thinking, Norway has contemplated such a possible future. The Svalbard Global Seed Vault, located far north on the island of Spitzbergen, has collected samples of many of the world's plant species, perfectly preserved for planting after an unforeseen global catastrophe.
And the son in the novel knows where a boat is. Perhaps the world has provided him a gift from Galadriel, after all.
The World Without Us
The World Without Us explores a much different world: a global catastrophe, or alien invasion, or Rapture has eliminated all humans, and Earth is allowed to grow into the spaces once inhabited by man. The book explores how much of what man considers as permanent will crumble away, and rather quickly, and how millions of years hence the primary evidence that we were here will be indestructible compounds, plastics, nuclear waste, and Mount Rushmore. Nevertheless, it is far less bleak that than it is hopeful, showing how nature has managed to reclaim its place in places we've long since abandoned as too dangerous - nuclear contaminated zones, chemical spill areas, etc. Life finds a way, and given enough time can overcome any obstacle.Lucifer's Hammer
One of the comments made in the reading group for The Road was that this novel set itself apart from other post-apocalyptic stories because the protagonist was able to raise themselves to a nobler ideal due to the love of a child. I disagreed with that assessment; the idea that children can influence the hardened veteran of a hostile world is explored in many post-apocalyptic stories. Mad Max was well on his way to becoming like any other survivor of Bartertown until he risked it all to save the children in the wilderness; the Mariner of Waterworld awoke to his humanity thanks to a little girl; Theo Faron finds redemption is saving a pregnant mom in Children of Men.In Lucifer's Hammer however, the main characters are not burdened with young children. In fact, the book is bereft of them. The main character's son is sent off before the impact, and when he is reintroduced some several weeks later, he has undergone a lord of Flies-like transition and rebuffs his father, who immediately leaves him to his own devices. Orphans fostered on another main character are disposed of to another family just some dozen pages later. Bereft of the idea of the propagation of humanity as a driving force to the future, the novel then basically revolves around which characters can sleep with the others, and how nuclear power will save us, but not really (as the authors pull a nasty turn in the last few pages). In a nutshell, the seventies, sans disco.
Ironically, in the fortified sanctuary the characters create for themselves, the greatest crimes are punished with verdict of "The Road", in which characters are forced out of the compound and must make their way put of the mountains to the devastated coast. Seems the novels came full circle.
I just one of them could have had an Ookla.
Labels: And We Are Rather Puny, Anti-Fun, Guitarmaggedon
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Thursday, July 26, 2007
The Engineered Virus
J.J. Abram's next big thing is being advertised initially as a viral marketing experiment: his first theatre trailer doesn't give away much, if anything of the movie, save for its basic premise. It leaves a lot to the imagination, a rarity in today's entertainment world, where regularly surpise and twists are given away in order to encourage audiences to repatriate the ever more sparsely populated theater. Abram's doesn't even give away the name of the film, a bold move that really did set the blogosphere abuzz. The bug was caught and caught good.However, that didn't mean the studio wanted to let it out of quarantine. Those that were piqued wanted to share the experience with others, so invariably the trailer ended up on YouTube - for a grand total of about a day, before Paramount started to threaten legal action to have them taken down.
I really can't understand the myopia, nay, the glaucoma, that the entertainment industry. They should be giddy with the prospect that people actually care enough about a film they know nothing about to promote it themselves, to everyone with an iinternet connection. They can't sell the durn trailer in and of itself - to me, it's a no-brainer to let people run with with it as far they can. Look what it did for Snakes on a Plane. Imagine what that could do for an actually good film, like the Blair Witch Project.
The only way to get them in the seats is to make them part of the experience, not sue them back out of it.
Labels: Anti-Fun, Got a Permit for Breathing, Hooray for Hollywood
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Friday, July 20, 2007
Life's a Beach
Our weekend of 'relaxation' at Jacksonville Beach with my mom and Aunt Margie took a turn for the worst almost the moment we stepped our onto the golden sands. I did a poor job of girding Kristin for the sun's pummeling - and she develop a severe that would last for several weeks. Just twenty minutes later, while picking up Kira, I consigned my glasses to the briny deep - or at the very least, to a group of curious minnows in three feet of water.
Kristin and I spent most of the rest of the day shopping for glasses, a task turned Herculean ordeal by the sheer number of frames that are now manufactured in China. The only United States made glasses in the store where the stylish roll shades they gave me after dilating my eyes, MADE IN USA stamped proudly across the brow of the plastic.
In the end, I selected three frames. My main glasses now have stylish wood accents that underscore they are Italian...while wearing them,I feel like I'm skimming across Lake Como in my Cris-Craft on the way to Clooney's villa:
My second pair of glasses are from Japan. They actually use fishing line cut into the groove of the glass to hold the lenses in, which makes the glasses nearly invisible on my face:
Finally, I got a pair of sunglasses from Italy.
The lenses are tinted with an amber filter: it takes some getting used to, as things seem so much different when I'm wearing them. For example, I took these right outside the office:
The trip did get better after that. I learned Rummy in between smearing Aloe across Kristin's tortured back, and we saw the new Harry Potter, as well as read the last Harry Potter. Mom ran into an old high school friend she hadn't seen for for twenty years at the library. And Parker got to learn about geology, the weather, and marine biology.
Labels: Anti-Fun, Art, Parker, Sheer Awesome, Spot the Pop Culture Reference
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Saturday, July 07, 2007
Support the Radio Equality Act
Time is running out for internet radio.On July 15, the new rates for royalties due from Internet Radio stations will go into effect. Terrestrial radio pays 2 to 5 percent of its gross revenue as royalties; satellite radio pays 3 to 7 percent. But thanks to the rate hike, which is based on a per listener charge, Internet radio stations must pay between 50 and 1,000 percent of its gross revenue. This will drive most smaller stations off the air nearly immediately, as well as larger services such as Live365 and Pandora.
According to John Simson, the director of Sound Exchange (the branch of the RIAA created to collect internet royalties), the new unit of measure is not the CD, but the "listen":
"When you have services that are feature-rich like Pandora or Rhapsody, Yahoo or SomaFM, places where people spend a lot of time listening, that time that cuts into listening to CDs — that time's moved to listens instead of purchasing CDs."
What a self-serving argument! If this was indedd the RIAA's viewpoint, then the royalty rates for terretrial and satellite radio - which have a much higher listernship - should also be increasing. The royalty rate simply works to decrease listener choice by eliminating all competition to top 40 stations. The RIAA is blinded bya potential $1.15 billion windfall in royalty rates - which will never come through, because those stations they wanted to charge will simply cease to exist.
It is true that I do not by as many cds as I did ten years ago (I also don't go to the movies as much, buy as many books, or read any comic books, so it's not just an endemic problem for the music industry). However, nearly every choice I have made to purchase a CD or to buy a track from iTunes has been from a "listen" from internet radio. Cutting off a valuable venue for letting people expad their musical tastes and that encourages to delve deeper into label's catalogs that the surface will end up costing them revenue in the long term.
There are bills in Congress that would overturn this rate hike. The Internet Radio Equality Act would nullify the copyright royalty board decision and set royalty rates at 7.5 percent of gross revenue, which is the same at satellite radio. The house bill has 118 co-sponsors of a needed 216, so get on the phones (or the net) and let your opinion be known.
Labels: Anti-Fun, Art, Got a Permit for Breathing, Politics, Unbridled Hope for the Future, We Who Are About to Rock
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Wednesday, June 27, 2007
The Magic Trolly Doomed Us All
Did you know that our next generation is all about me first because of the teachings of Mister Rogers? I saw it on Fox, so it must be true.In the original Wall Street Journal article, Professor Don Chance says that Mister Rogers' message of telling children they are special contributed to a society where children see themselves as entitled and worthy of special treatment.
Wrong place to put the emphasis there, Dr. Chance (which< I think we can all agree, would be an AWESOME name for a comic book character). I thinks that parents and a marketing culture that has told kids for thirty years that to be "it" they got to have "it", and they have to get "it" now. A quiet-spoken man with a Magic Trolley telling kids to respect one another and take pride in themselves for who they are didn't lead us to where we are today.
I'm pretty sure Mr. Rogers didn't air in China. And they've got the same challenges with you as we do.
Labels: And We Are Rather Puny, Anti-Fun, Let Kids be Kids
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Monday, June 18, 2007
Where Did the Fun Go?
Kristin and I just finished the work of ten strong graphic designers. The experience left us leaner, meaner, but significantly reduced the monetary albatrosses (albatrossi?) around our necks.
Now that we’ve laid our burdens down, it gives me time to properly mourn the loss of Steve Rogers, America’s fighting Sentinel of Liberty.Many have made comment about what Cap’s death means. Some see it as a brilliant political allegory. Some see it as a ham-fisted attempt to make a political statement that is at odds with the ‘history’ of the Marvel Universe. While I can see points in both areas, it underscores a belief I’ve had for some time.
Comics are no longer fun.
The superhero world is a peculiar place. At one time, it served solely to entertain. You can see this everyday in the blogs of those that celebrate the wonder and optimism that comics used to have. But as comics grew up, matured, and came to mirror current world realities and societies, it lost the fundamental ability to entertain and to speak to a child about what the world should be. It became a dark place with imperfect heroes and a looser and looser definition of right and wrong. Seriousness and angst replaced lightheartedness silliness and devil-may-care attitudes.
This trend isn’t limited to comic books. You can see this progression of adult themes in what are fundamentally children art forms everywhere. Animated movies cater more and more to teen audiences, and rely on veiled adult humor and scatological humor for laughs. Cartoon shows even more so – when was the last time you saw a show on the Cartoon Network that did not rely on that kind of humor? I think Foster’s is the only hold out on the network of the lighter fare, and even it has its moments. And video games? Mario seems to be the only title I can see that retains the magic of seeing the world through a child's eyes, and I for one am tickled pink at Nintendo's ability to dominate the concole marketplace.
So as all mediums move to more mature audiences and decide that edgier and gritty is better, the beauty and wonder of their worlds is disappearing. Life is not made solely of angst – it needs the lighter moments to feel real. Personally, I could care less to see comics where characters are brutally killed – Impulse, anyone?
Who’s left in comics that represent bright-eyed, boundless optimism? Superman lost it years ago. Spider-Man too. Even the second-stringers who could be relied on to give this viewpoint have disappeared. Impulse – aged, matured, and then brutally killed. Speedball? Now he’s a walking razor with nothing but angst.
Now Cap’s gone.
I know, of course, he will be back. It's a temporary thing - heck, Steve said in the Last Avengers Story several years ago that death would only "maybe" end his never-ending battle. Nevertheless, his death does mark a decided shift in the editorial policies of Marvel, and in perhaps the reading preferences of its readers, that presage a new future where the four-color world of comics will be replaced, by a more, muted, ambiguous palette.
It began with Civil War: Frontline #11. Sally Ford, a reporter that works with Ben Urich at the Daily Bugle, chastises Captain America for not being in touch with the modern American, and that he is not relevant to the America of today, since he knows nothing of Americon Idol, MySpace, Paris Hilton, or NASCAR. You can read the whole exchange here.
What's truly astonsihing about this entire diatribe is that Steve Rogers, who has been shown to be an eloquent and passionate debater in other venues, is left without a voice by the writers at this point. And Steve should have put Sally in her place. Sally is being simplistic. The ideals Steve have been fighting for his entire life are those enshrined in the Constitution and the Declaration, and are the ideals which allow her and the average American to do those things she mentions as so important. Super-heroes are not an army, they are a group of individuals that stand between her and legions of threats that would squash her and her city any day of the week if they weren't there to stand in the way. Ford makes a point to say she doesn't have the power that these heroes have - but apart from being a gifted fighter and acrobat, and being able to bench-press 800 pounds, Steve has no super powers either. Sally says she "loves the country that treats celebrities like royalty and teachers like dirt". Why doesn't Cap take her to task for this?
Because the writers don't want him to. Instead, they elect to ignore what makes Steve who he is to make Civil War more than it should be. Instead of an intelligent discourse on what this act would mean to the Marvel Universe, they decided to turn it into an allegory of the Patriot Act and the War on Terror. And so Cap's character is sacrificed to turn him into a living embodiment of the end of the American Dream, and Tony and Reed's characters are sacrificed to make them analogies of the current administration.
Frontline ends with Sally and Ben interviewing Tony and informing him they know he is responsible for Osborn's killing of the Atlanteans in order to keep them from declaring war on the surface world. Incredbily, Sally applauds him for betraying his friends and sacrificing his ideals for the greater good. More surprisingly, Ben doesn't even admonish her or let his feelings be known - instead he seems to meekly accept what she has done, an action I find hard for a man of the ethical convictions that Urich has shown in the past to refrain from.
So where do they go from here? Marvel and DC seems determined to bring their characters into a far more realistic world, to the detriment of those elements that make comics fun to read. And once a comic book world mirrors are world in most aspects, where is the point in immersing yourself in a world to escape everyday life?
Is there anyone out there to pick up the torch?
Leapin Lettuce! There is a bright, beautiful tomorrow.
One final note - my office mates decided to honor Steve's passing with a moving service. Heroes and villains came together to mourn his passing. It's getting me misty just thinking about it.
Labels: Anti-Fun, Captain Carrot, My Heroes Have Always Worn Spandex, Steve Rogers, Unbridled Hope for the Future
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Saturday, March 17, 2007
Road Hazzard
The Cincinnati Pops cancelled a planned performance with Bo and Luke Duke after complaints were made about the show's "racist overtones".
The Dukes of Hazzard...racist? What? I think I might have heard more racial undertones in Different Strokes or Sanford and Son than I ever did on the Dukes, which never presented itself as more than light family fare. It seems to me this is solely centered on the flag plastered atop the General Lee, which was never made mention of except in reference to the name of the car.
Why did the Pops have to cancel because of this. Could they not have had Tom Wopat and John Schneider on without referencing the car?
On another note, I had no idea that Cooter had been so involved in the Civil Rights movement:
In the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960's, Jones was arrested several times attempting to integrate segregated facilities. He says he was shot at by the KKK, had a tooth knocked out by a Klansman, and had ammonia thrown in his eyes at a sit-in".
I think Jones sets a precedent for all actors who claim they have been typecast into a role and can't break out of it - dive into something else you believe in with all your heart, and you'll break away from that persona.
Labels: Anti-Fun, Hooray for Hollywood, Spot the Pop Culture Reference
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Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Requiem for a Angioplasty
Goodbye to you, Ranch Burger. I will always remember that the slaw should go on the burger, and that old grandfathers told their son's son's they needed to make the pilgramige to the best burger in the world.
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Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Oscar the Grouch
The Academy might believe in the magic of movies and their impact in people's livesbut they sure don't want people to celebrate except in a six hour telecast on Sunday. Variety reports that the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences requested YouTube to pull all clips of the show. Several segments of the show had been among the most-viewed content of the week.
The academy claimed this was to "to help manage the value of our telecast and our brand." They went on to say that they have clips available on their site; however, the clips were short and did not include the same content as the YouTube clips. Furthermore, the Academy said that the clips they offer will eventually be removed, to "whet people's appetite for next year's show."
How myopic can the Academy get? The ratings for the Oscars have been in steady decline for years. Any segment on YouTube is FREE ADVERTISING for the brand and the telecast. If someone sees a segment in one years telecast that strikes them as funny or worth watching, they are more likely next year to tune in to see it for themselves. Not airing clips from the show for others to see means a steadily declining audience made up of die-hard watchers and does nothing to entice new viewers. And, given that the Academy never airs footage from their telecast except within future telecasts themselves, creates an insular and infertile medium for growth.
Labels: Anti-Fun, Got a Permit for Breathing, Hooray for Hollywood
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Monday, February 12, 2007
Viacom Dios
Viacom decided it didn't like the slow speed in which YouTube was moving to protect its content or allow them to garner income from it, and so has decided to sue the living bejeesus out of them unless they drop it right away.Again, a corporate giant has refused to see the untold amount of free advertising for their content they were getting. And what will be the end result? Like the demise of Napster, poeople sharing video content will start using some sort of personal node software that allows them to share content with one another peer-to-peer instead of from a central source, and it will become that much harder to monitor or enforce.
Labels: Anti-Fun, Got a Permit for Breathing
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Thursday, January 18, 2007
No Shirt, No Shoes, No Crayola
Color me mad.We stopped into the Atlanta Bread Company for a quick lunch today. After getting to the table and handing the kids their activity pages, we realized the cashier forgot to give us crayons. I went up to ask for some, and she told me they didn't have any.
I went back to the table, where the kids were understandably upset over the lack of being able to use their sheets. Kristin went back up to ask if they could check for some crayons in the back, or if they had a pen or something they could use.
The cashier, and then the manager, gave her a bunch of attitude, and explained that they couldn't give out crayons because they presented a safety risk for children. After all, "They can eat them and choke on them".
When asked why they'd give out coloring sheets if they have no crayons to use with them, they explained it was done so the kids could have the coupon for the free cookie printed on the bottom of the sheet.
After a little back and forth, the manager finally let Kristin borrow two pens, after she understood that the restaurant bears no responsibility for any injury that might result.
Have we become such a litigious society that even the most simple joys of childhood have to be denied?
Labels: Anti-Fun, Got a Permit for Breathing, Let Kids be Kids
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Saturday, December 23, 2006
Planet Irwin
I just want to say a word about the Robert Kirbys and Craig Bellamies of the world.
You've lost sight of the ability to see the world though unfiltered, cynical eyes. You've lost the ability to act and understand what it is like to be a child. You've thoroughly modeled yourself after George Banks. Congratulations.
May I never change so much as to fully understand you and your regimented, close-minded world views.
Labels: Anti-Fun
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