The Future is Now! And it's underwhelming...

So I just finished a delicious lunch consisting of left-over jumbalaya (God bless you, Zataran's) and a perfectly ripe Sunkist orange. My only complaint - the orange forced me to wash my hands for 5 minutes and clean the monitor on my computer screen. What's my point? We now live in the 21st century and science can't even make a stinking orange that peels easily.

People used to have such high hopes for the future. Cartoons told me of the 'House of the Future!' that would have self-configuring rooms, would be build on retractable stilts in case of flooding, and would have a live pig under the sink instead of a garbage disposal. Arthur C. Clarke and Stanly Kubrick thought we would've already sent multiple, human-carrying spaceships to Jupiter by now. If we're to believe James Cameron, Skynet has now been online for almost ten years. And by Ridley Scott's rationale, we should have flying cars, robots that can't be differentiated from humans, and should be speaking some strange hybrid of Chinese, Spanish, and English. Instead we're stuck with bogus "advances" like dual-core processors, hybrid cars, laser eye surgery, and spaceships that blow up every third take-off - although Ridley was close with the language thing. It's an embarassment.

So where did we go wrong? My guess is we lost enthusiasm and interest around the time the Soviet Union collapsed. With the good, old USSR it was always a race to the latest and greatest between them and us. Once they were gone, we just got complacent. Who needs an array of satellite lasers in low orbit around the Earth, poised to shoot down enemy missiles if we don't have any enemies with missiles? So by my stellar, irrefutable reasoning, we can blame this one on the Russkies, along with Stalin, poor hygiene, and Yakoff Smirnoff.

According to calculations I made when I was seven, I should be dictating this blog entry (there's a life-altering advance right there - the blog. Woo Hoo, Science!) while on a shuttle to my vacation home on the moon to my robot slave, who I will have named Daneel. Forget the whole HD-DVD v. Blu-Ray debate - I should be watching life-like holographic representations in 3-D! But if I can't get the flying cars, spaceships, and robot servants, can someone at the very least get me an orange I can eat in public?

HD DVD VS. Blu-Ray

The battle is about to begin between HD DVD and Blu-Ray. If you aren't familiar with these technologies you should be because this summer they will represent the future of home cinema. Basically information is written on these new discs using a blue laser as opposed to a red laser which current DVD discs use. This blue laser allows for more information to be written on discs, between 15 and 100 GB. This additional space is the perfect method of creating high definition movies for home cinema. The only problem is that there are 2 competing technologies, much like Beta and VHS, and different corporations are lining up behind each technology. Toshiba created HD DVD which is less expensive and easier to produce, whereas Sony created Blu-ray which is more expensive and more difficult to produce, but has more possibilities. Who will eventually win, no one knows. However this Heffernan is betting on HD DVD.

Heffernan Family Events – Vol. 5

The Heffernan Family is defined by its history together and apart. Well-known to us, but maybe not to everyone are the family members and all those other people, places, and events that serve to make up our own unique family identity. This post if an effort to detail the people and events that make us the Royal Heffernans.

Bridget, the only girl

She’s the only Heffernan female that never wasn’t a Heffernan. She’s Bridget, the middle child that grew up with two older and two younger male siblings who loved nothing better than letting “the girl Heffernan” know that’s what she was, just a girl. Anyone who knows Bridget knows that she’s definitely a Heffernan, at least now. But there were a few times in her life that Bridget definitely didn’t act like a Heffernan.

Bridget, like all Heffernan children, was tormented every weekend by mom. Mom made us take piano lessons from her, and I think the only thing worse than having to sit there and play was having to listen to how awful most of us were. Bridget was smart- she joined the St. Matthew’s school band to escape the Sunday piano lesson hell. We somehow acquired Grandpa Heffernan’s old trumpet, with its sturdy leather-covered-wooden case, and Bridget’s lessons began. Those were the days when we walked home from school because, well, frankly because mom refused to come get us. That and we liked throwing snowballs at the LOOKS sign. I digress…

Bridget also was required to walk home. Unfortunately, she was twelve and her trumpet accounted for nearly 13.82% of her body weight. Since she had to walk home after band practice, she had no one to help carry. Bridget would usually make it roughly halfway home, to the library on Miami and Ewing, before she would make a collect-call home, crying and sobbing about how heavy her trumpet was. At this point mom would be pissed but would still go pick her up. Upon arrived home, one of Bridget’s brothers would make fun of her and Bridget would throw her trumpet case at them, trumpet included. The last comment before Bridget disappeared would be “If you’re strong enough to throw it, why couldn’t you carry it?”

But Bridget also had other breakdowns. Her first actual breakdown occurred on the Great Western Expedition to Yellowstone. Dad and mom planned a enjoyable, leisurely hike in the natural settings to a scenic river spot. Apparently dad couldn’t read the map because what was supposed to be leisurely turned out to be a 20-mile death march reminiscent of the Trail of Tears. Getting to the river wasn’t bad, but by the time we turned around we were already tired, thirsty, and hungry. Several of us were being carried, but Bridget, complaining about how far there was left to go, simply stopped. Sitting down on the side of the trail she uttered that now famous statement: “Leave me here! I’m just gonna sit here and DIE!” She eventually got up and we all made it back to our cabin, tired and thirsty and hungry and seriously doubting dad’s ability to read a map.

Bridget was also a driving maniac at two distinct points in life. She is still the only Heffernan to have damaged a car parking either in the garage or in the driveway. She tried to lie about it, and to this day denies killing the front fender of the Camry, but we all know it was her. The other time was when she backed up the large gray conversion van. Now granted, it was old, in need of serious repairs, and had probably outlived its prime, but I really think the mailbox could have lasted at least a few more years if Bridget hadn’t run it over. The mailbox must be nearly 8 feet from the driveway, and Bridget took it out clean. To actually hit it was a feat in-and-of-itself! Go Bridget!

But Bridget earned her Heffernan stripes, as they say, in high school. She made Heffernans proud everywhere when an ex-girlfriend of Ian’s had tried to bad-mouth Ian. Bridget was just a junior and the ex was a senior, but Bridget still told her to shut up. When the senior didn’t stop Bridget shut her up- with a stiff right hook that knocked her two rows down at a football game. Now I’m no fighting expert, but I have seen girls fight before, and it usually involved a lot of hair-pulling, slapping, and angry squeals. But Bridget is a Heffernan, and even Heffernan women fight tough.

We’ve got to give Bridget some credit; she took a number of lumps throughout life from her brothers and she usually handled things pretty well. Most of the time we were proud to have her as a sister. But she had a few moments when all you could do was hide from whatever object was thrown at you and wait a few years to laugh about it.

I Hate the Pittsburgh Steelers

Cincinnati and Pittsburgh are less than 300 miles apart. The geography of both cities is similar, with both resting on the Ohio river. The cities themselves are eerily similar in their architecture and layout. But there is one very big difference - the Cincinnati Bengals are awesome and the Pittsburgh Steelers are a bunch of cheap-shot hacks who can't admit when they are gifted a victory.

I was 14 years old the last time the Bengals played in a playoff game - that's 15 years for those keeping score at home - so to say I was excited for this afternoon's game would be an understatement. I was sick of everyone saying the Bengals were in a slump entering the game, having lost their last two, while the Steelers were peaking, winning four straight. WTF?! The Bengals had clinched the division title with two games left to play! They lost because they were resting almost all of their starters to avoid injury going into the playoffs. Meanwhile, the Steelers were in a must-win situation for each of their last four games - they had to win, plus hope for a San Diego choke-job, just to get into the playoffs. Goddamn, ignorant media strikes again.

Alas, the Bengals' stategy to rest their players going into the playoffs failed miserably as on the second play of the game, the fucking second play, Carson Palmer hit Chris Henry for a 66 yard game and had Kimo von Oelhoffen roll his knee a full three seconds after the ball left his hand, tearing both his ACL and MCL. Adding insult to injury, or, more accurately, adding injury to injury, Chris Henry, the recipient of the aforementioned pass, injured his knee on the play. Less than two minutes into the game I've been waiting 15 years for and our MVP quarterback and second best receiver are out of the game.

John Kitna filled in admirably, but eventually resumed playing like John Kitna. Final score - 31-17, Pittsburgh.

Am I pissed we lost? Yeah, would I be blogging if I wasn't pissed? But I wouldn't be so pissed if the Bengals had been healthy and just been beaten. I'm pissed because the fucking Steelers acted like they just took the Bengals' best shot and won. Quotes after the game from Steelers players ranged from, "They wanted to make us pass, and we proved we could pass on them." to "Who Dey? Who Dey? We Dey."

You fucking amateurs. Not one of the Steelers mentioned the Palmer injury. You think losing the NFL's leading TD passer and team record holder in yards passing for a season had anything to do with your win, r-tards? Why don't we sit Roethlisberger for a game and see how well you do with Tommy Maddox at the helm.

What a cruel, cruel joke. My only consolation comes from the fact that the Steelers must now travel to Indianapolis to play the Colts. I am praying that the Colts come out to win one for coach Dungy and not like they're still at a funeral. I am praying that the Steelers get their comeuppance in the form of a 84-0 thrashing at the hands of the Colts. Or I'll settle for Dwight Freeney tearing off Roethlisberger's leg and beating Hines Ward unconcious with it, then stealing Ward's pants and taking illicit photos of him with the Colts mascot and posting them on the internet. One or the other, I'm not picky...

Peter Jackson is a Hack

This Christmas I bought myself the original T.V. version of The Lord of the Rings on DVD. This version was made in 1978 and was directed by Ralph Bakshi. I didn't expect a whole lot out of this movie because I have seen Peter Jackson's versions countless times and consider them some of the best movies ever made, but I thought it would be near to see what the 1978 version was like. Well, much to my amazement the 1978 version is strangely similar to Peter Jackson's version. In fact, it is so similar that I am surprised that no one in popular media has mentioned it. Now when I say that they are similar I don't mean just storyline. This would be ridiculous since the movies are based on a book and there is only so much deviation you could do before 2 versions of the same book begin to look similar. What I am talking about is the characters and scenes which are almost spot on what we see in the most recent versions.

Take Frodo and Sam, their voices and mannerisms are almost identical in both versions. I can say with some confidence that the actors in Peter Jackson's version most definitely viewed the original version and based a great deal of their characters on the original. Also, the scenes in the 1978 version again are very similar to the 2001 version. Again, I realize that both of these versions are based upon the same novel, but I have read the novels and there is only so much information one can get about what certain landmarks and scenes look like. Also, scenes from the 1978 version are almost identical in terms of cinematography to the 2001 version.

I admit I am not a film expert, but if you watch Ralph Bakshi's 1978 version you will notice unmistakable similarities to Peter Jackson's 2001 version. I would even say that if Bakshi had the technology of today back then he might have even been able to do a better version.

The Best Blog Posting Ever!

There is a problem with today's media - well, there are LOTS of problems with today's media, but I'm going to focus on one: instant history. Instant history can be briefly defined, by me, as an overuse of superlatives. Everything today is the biggest, fastest, or best. Plain old 'good' is no longer good enough. Along with 90% of the other material on this blog, this one of course also relates to college football, specifically the 2005 USC team that the media was proclaiming the best ever. ESPN went so far as to run a 12 day poll that pitted the 2005 USC team against their "greatest" teams of all-time. The fans voted for USC in every game but one. The only problem - this scientific survey took place over the last 3 weeks and USC lost to Texas last night. Bravo, ESPN, you are retarded. Here's a fork with a cork on the end so you don't hurt yourself.

I get the fascination - everyone wants to bear witness to or be a part of the greatest events of all-time. So the media instantly plays them up. They'll try to offset them with lead-ins like, "... that some are calling the biggest/worst/most devastating...", but then never define who those "some" are. So in essence they are proclaiming it the biggest/worst/most devastating. It's a complete lack of journalistic integrity. It's creating hysteria for the sake of creating hysteria just so that people can say, "I remember that!".

Case in point: Only 13 short months ago a tidal wave struck in the Indian Ocean that killed almost 300,000 people. 300,000 fucking people. Truly, that has to be one of the worst natural disasters in recorded history - and it was duly reported as such. Then this summer the Gulf Coast was struck by hurricane Katrina. The unofficial death toll is just shy of 2000, yet journalists and reporters instantly forgot the horrific tsunami that struck not 9 months prior and began calling Katrina one of the worst catastrophes ever. Now, I'm not belittling the damage of Katrina - my brother and his family live in New Orleans - but to equate Katrina with the Indian tsunami is a joke. It got the news because, yes, it was closer to home, but more realistically because it happened more recently.

Another example: The NFL. Last year at this time people were calling the New England Patriots a dynasty. Easily one of the greatest teams in NFL history, they said. Hey, they won the Super Bowl 3 out of 4 years. Fast forward 12 months - the Indianapolis Colts are the greatest team in the history of the NFL. Never mind that this team hasn't won anything yet. They're the best.

It's irresponsible at best and it's annoying at all times. Things, be it events, teams, persons, etc..., for the most part do not become "history" after 12 hours. Those are current events, friend. Only time will which items we remember and which we don't. And that is when you can break out your superlatives - when you look back five years later after things have settled in and you can still say, "You know what band was awesome? Led Zeppelin." not when you say, "You know what band was awesome? That one, that had that song that was in that Gap, or maybe it was an iPod, commercial, like, 2 years ago. Man, they were good! What was their name again?"

I am prolific

That's right, mofos - not 1, but 2 posts before 9am EST! Read 'em and weep (really, you may cry)...

Hi, my IQ is 43 - Well, sir, you're qualified to be a sports commentator!

Is it just me, or did anyone else have to watch all the BCS bowl games with their television on mute? Sports commentators are supposed to be impartial observers who relay the game's details and occasionally comment on the facets of the game the typical layman may not pick up. Today's sports commentators are imbeciles.

Exhibit A: Mike Tirico (who is usually outstanding) complaining that a college coach should have challenged a call. Mike, college coaches can't challenge calls. That's the NFL, big guy.

Exhibit B: Keith Jackson and Dan Fouts complaining that a Texas catch and fumble was incorrectly called an incomplete pass. Guys, I know he had 2 feet down but he was standing still. The guy must make some sort of football move if he's stationary in order to exhibit possession. And it's not like he was standing still for 5 seconds, this all happened within a tenth of a second. Yet Jackson and Fouts still went on and on about how it was a fumble, even after the replays (and officials) clearly proved otherwise.

Exhibit C: After Texas defended a USC pass, Jackson and Fouts complained it should have been an interception. The defender caught the ball in mid-air but lost control when he hit the ground. Yes, the ground cannot cause a fumble, but a receiver must maintain possession upon impact for a catch to be legit.

Now, I can understand if the announcers get the initial call incorrect, because they're watching the game live. But they see the same replays we do and they're supposed to be experts. So when they refuse to admit they were incorrect, it's one of two things: 1) megalomania or 2) gross incompetance. I lean towards the latter.

It's not so much that these guys are egotistical airheads who enjoy nothing more than hearing their own voices, it's that they don't even know the rules of the sport they're announcing! You'd think there would be some sort of football literacy test that one must pass in order to demostrate a rudimentary knowledge of the game. This is basic stuff.

And I haven't even touched on the the fact that every announcer is ridiculously biased. Musberger praising OSU for racking up so many yards through 3 quarters. Here's the thing, Brent - it's a 7 point game, still a long way to go. Jackson and Fouts fawning over USC (or any other Pac 10 team for that matter). By the way, didn't Keith Jackson retire, like, 8 years ago?! Can't someone hand that guy his AARP card, give him a thank you card, and throw his ass out of the booth? He used to be fun, what with his 'Whoa, Nelly' and all that, but now the guy talks so much ABC will cut to a commercial while he's mid-sentence. They guy won't shut-up and it's all complete gibberish to boot. He doesn't even know the names of the players.

The worst part is that these guys aren't doing their job of delivering the play-by-play and talking about the game. Here's what I want to know:

1) What just happened and/or is happening now?
2) Some insight, culling from your years of experience, into why you think that happened and/or what your think they may do next.

A good announcing team should be able to be followed by a blind person. If a blind person tried to follow any of the announcers during the BCS games, not only would he not have a clue about a) the teams involved, b) the current score, or c) the game's status (quarter, time, etc) but he would probably think it was a cricket test.

Time to go back to the basics. Time to stop hiring the latest former NFL star who's been hit one too many times and has a hard enough time tying his shoes, not to mention providing color commentary to a game. Yeah, we know you used to play. Yeah, we know you guys did things differently back in your day. Whatever, any insight into why that jackass just went for a two-point conversion to go up by 5, Brainiac? Time to sunset crotchety old announcers who are well past their prime. Give those guys the Blue Bonnett bowl, not the BCS title game. Time to start hiring competant, well-spoken people who can comment on and add insight to the games. Until then, I'll continue with my practice of muting the tv and listening to the radio.

USC: Try the humble pudding

Their reign now over, USC can't seem to be able to admit that they're not the best team in college football anymore. Matt Leinart's quote after the game,

"I still think we're the better team... but whatever"

Matt, here's the thing - when you throw up 38 points, including 28 in the second half, and you still lose, you may not be the better team. USC got breaks, but also made some bone-headed, ego-driven plays (see Reggie Bush's attempted lateral after a 40 yard run). They didn't lose that game, they were beaten.

My favorite part of the loss - it was almost entirely the fault of head coach Pete Carroll. Leading 38-33 with just over two minutes left at Texas' 45 yard line Carroll decided to go for it on 4th and 2. I can see how a team with 34 consecutive wins has confidence that 1 of their 2 All-American running backs can pick up 2 measly yards, but in this situation you absolutely have to punt the ball and make Vince Young drive the entire field. USC got stuffed, Texas only had to go 56 yards and scored the winning touchdown with less than 20 seconds remaining. You have to figure in that situation the worst case scenario is a punt that goes for a touchback giving Texas the ball at their own 20. At best, USC can pin Texas inside their own 10 or 5. That's a no-brainer with a national championship on the line. But Carroll gambled, and lost... and lost. And to compound the coaching gaff, during Texas' two-point conversion attempt after what turned out to be the game-winning touchdown, USC, coached by the supposed defensive guru Carroll, had to burn their final timeout. Sorry, but those plays both come down to coaching. And one can, and I will, make the argument that Pete Carroll cost his team an unprecedented third straight national championship.

So Hail Texas! for the day. Now we'll see just how good (or bad) of a coach Pete Carroll really is without Leinart and Bush running his show...

Heffernan Family Events – Vol. 4

The Heffernan Family is defined by its history together and apart. Well-known to us, but maybe not to everyone are the family members and all those other people, places, and events that serve to make up our own unique family identity. This post if an effort to detail the people and events that make us the Royal Heffernans.

Ian the Clown

Some little kids can’t get enough peanut butter. They’ll sit behind a chair with a spoon and eat it out of the jar until they get sick. Some little kids can’t help but pick their noses- and then eat it. Ian was the little kid who couldn’t stop licking his lips.

You may think I’m talk about chapped lips being lipped to keep from drying and cracking, but that’s not true. Ian would protrude his tongue ala Gene Simmons and lick a ring around his mouth to the limit of his tongue. Think of Scooby-Doo licking the frosting off his face and you’ve got Ian right there. But even Scooby had the sense only to lick his face when frosting was on it; Ian licked his face constantly. And for his efforts he received a chapped, red ring around his mouth that was lovingly dubbed his “clown face.”

The funny thing about the clown face is not only that Ian did it (because Ian has been and always will be the paragon of self-control and moderation), but that he enjoyed doing it. We have photographic proof of Ian smiling with the “clown face” and also of Ian smiling while create the clown face.

I was young, I don’t remember the “clown face” and well as I remember Ted’s “The Face” (who could forget the terror that would wash over them when “The Face” was made), but I have seen the pictures of it. The great Heffernan forebears – Mom and Dad – are the first known to have referred to Ian’s chapped face as a “clown face.” This is most likely due to the fact that Ian loved Bozo the Clown and watched WGN constantly (his belief that it is easy to throw the ball in the buckets for the “Grand, Prize, Game!” is false: it's actually very hard, go try! And you know inflation is bad when they drop $200 in the bucket nowadays).

I guess Ian did it right; if you have to look like an idiot, at least he looked like an idiot that everyone loved. Bozo was a clown, and while I’m deathly afraid of all clowns and would rather eat my own hand than go to a clown show, Ian’s “clown face,” with his chapped lips, dumb smile, and constant snake-like licking, made me learn to tolerate Bozo quite well. While I still fear clowns, because Ian was incapable of stopping his powerful habit of licking himself I can now tolerate Bozo.