Director Peter Berg turns in a celluloid train wreck that’s filled with the overuse of the gutter version of “anus” to such an extent that it becomes a one-joke film. Okay, we get it. John Hancock (Will Smith) is a jerk. He’s the king of potholes, dodging airplanes, and sloshing around with a big bottle of booze. He’s homeless, and hates the world around him. Now, I don’t know if he’s a jerk because of these things, or that being a jerk led him to being  homeless, but frankly, I wasn’t really compelled to care.

I don’t know what it is about today’s filmmakers that feel the necessity to drive in the obvious (that Hancock is a jerk) to the point where even a headache would be a relief. The fact that the first time we hear the word is from a small child is supposed to be funny, but again, it’s stating the obvious.

But this is the July 4th weekend, a time where Will Smith movies rule. I found myself longing for Independence Day, or any movie that made at least a modicum of sense in its plot and characters. To be sure, this is Smith’s territory, and his own charm and skill actually manages to make the film tolerable. He clearly owns the role of Hancock, and relishes being the zero who’s a hero, no matter how many people hate him.

Ray Embrey (Jason Bateman) is introduced early in the film as another failing PR guy who gets rescued from being hit by a train (never mind the train wreck that Hancock causes in the process). And yes, for those of you who have seen the trailer and TV spots, the scene when Hancock realizes that he just caused said train wreck where he says, “aaaah…” is followed by its expected expletive. But that’s funny. Really.

Much of the comedy that’s shown in the film is Hancock’s verbal trouncing of the pissed-off bystanders who say that they’ll sue him for his latest damage. Alas, much of the actual dialogue can’t be printed, even though the film is rated PG-13.

Charlize Theron is Mary, Ray’s wife, and has a big secret of her own, which brings in a dash of crazy theology into the film. Don’t ask.

The plot, while completely convoluted at some points does manage to hit a few main points: Hancock is a super guy, he’s also a super jerk. He gets a PR guy who tells him to go to jail. Hancock oblidges, and gets called out by the chief of police to save the day with some really nasty hostage situation. Hancock saves the day, becomes a hero, and then things get really stormy. There’s still nearly a half hour’s worth of film left at this point.

Okay, got it? Good. It’s entirely too short, and its pacing is awkward at best. The only character that’s developed at all is Hancock’s, and even that’s not enough to hold together the film.

The effects are stellar, and the technical aspects of the film make for what a summer action film should be, but it would have been nice to be able to see just what the hell is going on. Berg’s camera angles try to go after the “journalist” look seen in TV shows like Battlestar Galactica and other recent films (Wanted being a good example), but it really doesn’t succeed.

With Transformers, the close-up battle scenes were hard to follow, but at least we could see who was doing what. Not so with Hancock. There are some nifty super-battles, but geez… there’s only two human-sized combatants. Would it have been too much to clue the audience into exactly what’s happening and why?

By the end of the film, everything’s just hunky-dory, and apparently Hancock’s been forgiven of all the multi-bazillions of dollars worth of damage that he caused. But, I’m sorry to say, he hasn’t been forgiven my eight bucks. I want them back.

4/10

Films like Wanted appeal to just that kid-on-the-cusp-of-adulthood mentality that most adult men share, driving all of us to wonder just what we’ve done with our lives. Since most of us who shell out our eight bucks to see this kind of movie aren’t interested in anything but violence, guts, sex, and profanity, director Timur Bekmambetov (with his first American film) delivers all of these elements within the first five minutes of the narrative.

That’s not to say it’s a bad movie, really. Bekmambetov’s style is clearly an attempt to capture the equally-adult comic book in film, a task which is largely successful. Having never read the comic (I know, they’re supposed to be called “graphic novels,” but frankly, I don’t care. They’re comics.), I was able to look at the film as its own entity. Since the vast majority of the film’s audience is equally ignorant of its source material, that’s probably a good thing.

Set around a nobody-cubicle-dweller named Wesley Gibson (played with passion by James McAvoy), we realize just how much we have in common with this character. But then, we’re shown just how much of a super-loser he really is to the point that it’s ridiculous. But hey, that’s the point, isn’t it? After all, doesn’t every loser have panic attacks?

We’re then introduced to the ultimate femme fatale, Fox (a perfectly cast Angelina Jolie), who manages to pull Gibson out of the fire of a particularly nasty assassin’s attack. Not only does Gibson join the ranks of the assassins, he takes the pleasure of telling off his mundane manager and walks out the door of his cubicle world triumphantly. Thus begins a white-knuckle romp of turning a zero into a hero, who happens to be one of the world’s elite super assassins.

In fact, the movie tells us, this group of the deadly elite is called “The Fraternity.”  Obviously, this is a far pitch from the beer-guzzling frat boy antics such a name might suggest, with a mission to save the world. Their method is obviously questionable, but it’s one of which Star Trek’s eminently logical Mr. Spock would approve: Kill one to potentially save thousands.

Morgan Freeman provides the leader-with-a-nasty-secret as Sloan, and as always manages to elevate the film just with his very presence. I don’t know why Freeman has taken to playing darker characters in recent years, but it’s an interesting switch. His take on Sloan isn’t all too different from his role as the Boss in the 2006 film, Lucky Number Slevin. Personally, I liked him better as God in Evan Almighty. Even still, Freeman’s skill as an actor and his screen presence are always welcome, and Wanted is no exception.

It’s McAvoy who emerges as the film’s true star, with his piercing blue eyes and his deep intensity that’s not often seen in film these days. He first gained notice way back in a silly Sci-Fi Channel production of Children of Dune (2003), and stayed with television roles until a breakout performance as Mr. Tumnus the faun with a conflict in The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. With other stellar supporting roles in The Last King of Scotland (2006) and Atonement (2007), McAvoy has top billing in Wanted. Clearly, his star is rising high, and his performance merits all the attention he’s been getting.

Wanted could have been just another exercise in mediocrity, but stellar performances by McAvoy, Jolie, and Freeman give the film a much-needed shot in the arm to actually make it enjoyable. It’s not for the faint-of-heart, though, since there’s enough blood splattered to make a Hellraiser fan happy, and the action is as brutal as it is intense.

The climax of the film brought back memories of The Matrix, and gives a massive body count that’s actually a pretty big payoff. It’s far better than average, but not as great as it could have been. Wanted is a testosterone-filled race through curved bullet paths and head-shot assassinations that’s just what our gung-ho society really doesn’t need. But hey, it’s an action movie, not Shakespeare.

7/10

WALL-E carries on the mantle of perfection that Pixar has established with Monsters, Inc. and Ratatouille, and actually manages to take the animation to new heights. Director Andrew Stanton, who masterfully told the ultimate (fish-)Father’s Day story with Finding Nemo, has hit his stride with this simple story of a garbage robot who ultimately saves the world.

The lead character is the title robot, whose name, WALL-E, is an acronym for “Waste Allocation Load Lifter - Earth-Class.” Its — wait, his — sole purpose was to clean up garbage and pack it away in neat, little cubes. Since the human race had left the planet on a giant spaceship seven centuries before, the little robot had plenty of work cut out for him.

After so long in solitude, he developed a curiosity and a personality that allowed him to discover several marvels of humanity: an iPod, a VHS copy of Hello Dolly, a Rubik’s Cube, a light bulb, and a simple plant, among countless other treasures. His curiosity created a certain peculiar value system that led him to discard a diamond ring in favor of its felt box. Moments like this is what give WALL-E its charm and wit, allowing people of all ages to appreciate its value.

The film has very little dialogue in its first hour, something that in most cases would put children to sleep. Somehow, WALL-E keeps not only their attention, but the attention of their sometimes equally fidgety parents. The story is incredibly simple: Two robots meet, one finds the key to the survival of the human race, and they meet resistance by a powerful computer who’s bent on thwarting that salvation.

It’s here that the story takes on another role as an educator, which is probably what has elevated it to greatness a-la The Iron Giant. The film takes the time to establish that Buy ‘n Large, the ultimate big-box store, had wrecked the technological society that it helped to create. While it’s a little bit of a stretch to say that a megastore corporation would destroy the earth’s ecology, the concept works well for this story, not only as entertainment, but as education.

It’s these far-fetched ideas that make for great stories. Earth had been rendered uninhabitable, forcing the company to create a massive starship that would serve as an ark for the survivors. The ship sent out several smaller vessels to scout for signs of renewal of plant life. One of the ships lands near WALL-E’s quaint little home, with EVE, the Extraterrestrial Vegetation Evaluator.

When the robots communicate with each other, they don’t use traditional speech. Instead, the voices of Ben Burtt and Elissa Knight are contorted into twingy, twangy, digitized singsong modulations that are instantly recognizable. We’re not only drawn in to the world that Pixar created, but into the life of two very special robots.

What follows is an intriguing love story between the little robots, which then elevates to the next level. It is as sweet as it is romantic, and moves beyond the earlier montages in the film. Once EVE finds that one piece of evidence of the earth’s renewal, she signals for retrieval, and WALL-E gives chase.

Probably my only criticism is that it sometimes appears to be a little preachy about the potential downfalls of overuse of technology and convenience. However, the more I think about it, the more I am convinced that maybe it SHOULD be preachy. In a time where iPods and PSPs have taken over the lives of our younger generations, maybe we all need to consider just where a complete reliance on technology might take us. WALL-E provides one such possibility, carefully disguised as a great movie. After all, wouldn’t our lives be a little simplified if we didn’t have a gadget for every task?

In many ways, WALL-E could have turned down the pike of a sappy morality play, but has avoided these pitfalls with clear wit and deliberate storytelling. It’s intelligent, incredibly cute, romantic, and offers a lesson in waste and overuse to boot. To say that “Pixar has done it again,” would be inaccurate. This is just the latest in a string of films that are the very reason why we go to the movies. More than that, it’s why we go back to see movies again and again.

10/10

Marvel Studios is clearly in the process of establishing something never before attempted in major blockbusters, the creation of a Marvel Universe similar to their comics—er—graphic novels that have been in print for generations. But enough for fanboy mindtwists for now.

Hulk 2’s opening credits present a re-telling of the origins of the big green guy, but it bears little resemblance to the last film. Indeed, it looks a lot more like the opening credits of the megahit 1970’s TV series. I suppose this is the first indication that director Louis Leterrier was actually going to tell a story that would be fun, a trait that was seriously lacking in Lee’s film.

Edward Norton replaces Eric Bana in the lead role, and reportedly assisted in the rewriting of the film as well. Norton’s Bruce Banner is just as intense, but more lighthearted, with a clear nod to Bill Bixby’s tortured hero. He’s once again the wandering loner with a deep, dark, big, nasty, green secret.

This isn’t to say that Hulk 2 isn’t without its faults. Pacing was off, and the entire film is all-too-obvious in catering to the fanboys in its presentation. Where Hulk 1 was entirely too “heady,” the new film is clearly bent for action, and weak on character development. But the comic book nerd in me (forget that graphic novel junk… they were comics when I collected them) could give a batguy’s left butt about romance. I just wanted to see how cool it’d be.

Rest easy, true believers. Hulk 2 has plenty of cool for all of us eternal boys. With plenty of cameos and special appearances by the ubiquitous Stan Lee (No, he’s not Heff again), Lou Ferrigno, a posthumous appearance by Bill Bixby, the TV Hulk theme, and a few other iron-ic surprises, the audience has plenty to gasp about.

In fact, both of the other major roles have been recast, with Liv Tyler as Betty Ross and William Hurt as General Ross. Of the new cast, the only one I didn’t like was Hurt. I liked Sam Elliott better, but that’s just me. Tim Roth bulked up a little too much for his role as Emil Blonsky, and sadly, his character was the most shallow of the bunch.

I do find myself questioning how anyone can move around undetected in today’s post-9/11 world, especially for five years as the film claims. But then, a certain suspension of disbelief is required for a Summer action film, and Hulk 2 is no exception.

The apparent pattern that Marvel Studios has established is that the hero will fight a comparable villain. Iron Man had the Iron Mongrel. The Incredible Hulk has the Abomination (along with hints of another popular Hulk villain in a sure-to-come future film — but I’m not giving that one away). Here’s hoping that this “evil-bigger-badder-twin” concept doesn’t become a true pattern, it’d give away a screaming lack of creativity on the folks at Marvel.

There’s plenty of action, a bit of romance, daughter-hates-father subplots, and big green guys to go around, making Hulk 2 a film that overshadows its predecessor while foreshadowing more big action films to come down the pike.

Even with all its flaws, the smashing emerald dude more than lives up to its paneled past, and smashes open the door that Iron Man cracked: A door to a film world that’s just as big as we comic nerds always hoped for. Sure it’ll be a big mess. But I can’t imagine a better film to make that mess for right now, at least until something better comes along.

7/10

In the article, Egelko outlines how George and three other California Supreme Court justices pulled from another marriage quality issue from history, interracial marriage:

George’s same-sex ruling relied heavily on the court’s 1948 decision on interracial marriage, written by a renowned liberal, Justice Roger Traynor. No other state’s court had ever recognized a constitutional right for interracial couples to marry, and the U.S. Supreme Court did not do so until 1967.

A lesson from that case, George said in the interview, was that laws denying “certain basic rights could not be justified just because of history and tradition.”

He recalled a trip with his parents to the still-segregated South as a teenager, when he was shocked to see whites-only signs on drinking fountains and restroom doors.

“It sensitized me to the fact there are minorities of all sorts of types who can be victimized by the majority,” George said. Protecting vulnerable minorities, he said, is “one of the purposes of the courts and of our Constitution.”

When I read the above paragraph, I had to stop and consider just what Justice George was really saying. Quite simply, he said that the Constitution guarantees protection for vulnerable minorities. This in itself is a hotly debated point, especially in regard to immigrants and sexual orientation.

When the California decision was announced, conservatives immediately decried “activist judges” who “defied the people.” Well, this is exactly what was said when Justice Anthony Kennedy’s decision was handed down in the landmark Lawrence v Texas decision. that struck down all of the sodomy laws in the US. They were “activist judges” (interestingly, both Kennedy and George were appointed by Republicans).

Both men and their respective majorities in their courts knew a simple fact: Sometimes, the people are wrong. The people were wrong to separate blacks and whites in the South. The people were wrong to deny basic civil rights. The people were wrong to pass laws banning the private sex lives of adults, and they were wrong to pass a resolution in California to ban same-sex marriage.

I heard a phrase not too long ago that illustrated this better than anything: the Constitution is a way to protect against the Tyranny of the Majority. I’ll define this phrase: oppressive rule by majority, where the minority has little or no rights.

This is a phrase that isn’t used very often, but when it is used, it’s profound. Alexander Hamilton warned against allowing this kind of “majority rules no matter what” mindset, and was one of a few men who knew just what the dangers were of a pure democracy. In fact, the dangers of a tyrannical majority were so clear to our framers, that they designed our constitution for a republic, not a democracy.

That’s right. The United States of America is not a democracy. It never has been. It is, quite simply, a republic. It is, however, a republic which includes a great many democratic elements, which is why there’s such a balance.

I won’t bore anyone with an extended civics lesson, but our government has three branches: executive, legislative, and judiciary. As most Americans know, the executive branch of the Federal government is headed by the President and his cabinet. The legislative branch includes both houses of Congress (the Senate and the House of Representatives). The judiciary branch has the Supreme Court at its highest level.

These three branches offer a brilliant level of checks and balances which has been the “great experiment” in world affairs, and has been an effective system since the Constitution was adopted back in 1787. It’s been amended only 27 times since then, most notably with the Bill of Rights in 1791, which includes the all-important First Amendment.

Even before the First Amendment, the Constitution did a great job of protecting against the Tyranny of the Majority, but most Americans felt like it needed to be crystal clear about individual rights. After all, what minority is smaller than the individual?

Just for fun, I’ll ask people to name at least three of the five protections of the First Amendment. Most people can name one or two. Three is a stretch. VERY few can name all five:

• Freedom of Religion
  (Individual religious expression & a ban on state-sponsored religion)
• Freedom of Speech
• Freedom of the Press
• Right to peaceably assemble
• Right to petition the government

The first amendment is one of the most powerful and is easily the most important in the entire document, especially when in regards to the tyranny of the majority. The simple reality is this: the majority, while they might have the most numbers, might not always have the high moral or legal ground. In other words, the majority isn’t always right!

We learned this better than ever during the civil rights movement. Here’s a simple truth: civil rights would never have come if not for a handful of judges who took the law in their own hands. A lot of conservatives are quick to point out how the Civil Rights Act of 1964 was passed by a majority vote in Congress, so the will of the people can pass laws like this, they claim. However, that historic act would never have been passed if segregation hadn’t already been struck down by the Supreme Court with its historic Brown v Board of Education decision in 1954.

The only exception to this would be the Women’s Suffrage movement, which passed by legislative vote and popular vote, to be added to the constitution in 1919. However, I’m not really sure if women would be considered a “minority” by this definition. Repressed, yes. Minority, no. Especially today, where there are actually more girls born than boys.

So what kind of minorities might be oppressed? In the US alone, there are countless religious minorities (anything other than Christian), ethnic groups, national origin, racial minorities (especially African and Latino Americans), those with disabilities, and sexual orientation and gender identity.

It’s that last one that draws the most heated debate today, with the argument that a person’s sexual behavior is their own choice, and should not be allowed as a minority. Unfortunately, this argument overlooks the reality that a person’s sexual orientation or gender identity isn’t a “behavior,” it’s something much deeper, and is in many cases not a choice at all.

Other arguments against listing sexual orientation and gender identity to the list of protected minorities is that a person’s sexual orientation isn’t identifiable outwardly. A gay or lesbian person can’t be identified by their appearance like an African-American or a Latino-American can. While this is true, it leaves out one major point: A person’s religion is unquestionably a choice, and is guaranteed protections by the Constitution. Why shouldn’t a person’s sexual orientation - which may NOT be a choice - be included in these simple protections?

It’s this kind of argument that our constitution and government was formed to dismiss, with an effort to stifle a growth of a tyrannical majority. Our framers knew than as we know now that power corrupts. When a majority—of any kind—has power, then it can be corrupted.

Thankfully there are heroic men like California Chief Justice Ronald George and US Supreme Court Justice Anthony Kennedy who are willing to put an end to this kind of tyranny by declaring that all minorities are indeed equal, and should be treated as such.

Previously published on Skipping to the Piccolo.

I turned the corner, and realized that this wasn’t just a cave, it was a long-lost prehistoric firebrick kitchen that had the most luscious form of deities - Pitz’a’coatl. It was a round, flat deity that seemed to center around the gastro-intestinal functions of its devotees. Something about constipation, I think.

But it was the idol itself that drew me here, halfway across the world. The legend alone was fascinating enough. When I learned that the idol was a beautiful solid gold disc with upturned edges and a distinct pattern on its flattened topside, I knew it would be a powerful addition to the Museum of Ancient Foods.

There it was. It glistened in the mysterious golden light that seemed to come from nowhere. I carefully walked into the chamber, taking precaution to only step onto the small, red circles scattered about as to avoid setting off one of the many booby traps in the temple.

Too late.

It came out of nowhere. WHOOSH! I ducked just in time as a sword sliced the air beside me. I looked up at the invader. I suspected that some kind of undead entity would come after me to prevent me from taking my prize, but this wasn’t just a sword-wielding zombie. It was triangular, with crusty, molded cheese.

How odd, I thought. It closely resembled a piece of supreme pizza that I had left out for a few days once. I quickly brushed aside the thought as I reached for my bull whip. I was too late. The attacker had swiped again, leaving me no time to use the whip, so I reached for a loose stone and blocked it in the nick of time. The sword sparked as it struck the rock, and had time to roll away.

Shit! The booby traps! Arrows whizzed by from the walls, and pierced the attacker, but it kept coming. I was too low on the ground for them to hit me, so I finally took hold of my whip and used it to pull the sword out of it…wait… it wasn’t a hand. It was more of an elongated sausage that had rotten into a tough, ugly bone-thing. Well, I pulled the sword out of whatever it was.

I picked up another slab of stone and hurled it against my new enemy, flattening it. They don’t make zombies like they used to, I thought.

To my horror, the thing stood again! It picked up its sword, and began to walk toward me again. This was quite enough, so I pulled out my .44 and leveled it against what looked like the creature’s eye. The gun’s discharge echoed throughout the cave, and the monster exploded into a shower of goo and mold.

Finally free of any more intruders, I then carefully stood and walked toward the idol. It was clearly beautiful, and the torch that I left on the ground revealed its glory.

Then, to my horror, I heard a slight click under my foot. As I watched, the idol began to slide downward as a loud clunk broke through the air. My heart sank, and then began to pound in my chest. I rubbed my chin and wiped away the sweat from my brow. What could this possibly be?

It sounded like a rumble, no, more of a grinding noise. Slowly, I crept away, step-by-step, once again taking care to not set off yet another booby trap.

I looked over my shoulder. I really shouldn’t have, but I’m glad I did. The rumbling-slice-sound got louder still, and I realized that it wasn’t giant stone ball that threatened me. I really didn’t know what it was, but it sure looked like a giant pizza cutter. It was old, rusty, and looked rather dull, but I wasn’t about to take a chance on how it would impact my body, so I threw caution to the wind and ran as fast as I could.

Arrows whizzed by, side-to-side, and from the floor and ceiling. I don’t know how I missed them all, but then, I’m not sure I did. The giant blade pressed closer still, and I had no choice but to keep running. So I ran, even though my sides were screaming in pain.

Just when I thought I was to the next level of the temple, I ran face-first into a flattened stone. I didn’t notice the inscription on the top that said “pampered” or something like that. All I knew was that I was about to be sliced. I turned, and twisted, and moved as fast as I could to avoid the giant rotary blade. It backed off for a second, and left me with my one chance, so I pulled myself to the top of the stone and flipped over it with no time to spare as the blade smashed against the rocky ceiling.

I caught my breath, and briefly lamented on my lost prize. To my astonishment, I then looked up and saw that very same golden pizza-esque statue fall through the ceiling, right into my waiting hands. Finally! I had acquired my prize. I could barely catch it as it weighed nearly forty pounds, but I was not about to let this beautiful piece of culinary history be smashed on the rocky floor.

The opening of the ancient cave was once again in full view. I raced toward it, and saw my partner standing at the mouth.

“I got it!,” I said in between pants. My partner John Pepperoni, who always liked to be called “Papa,” was a man who knew the history of Pitz’a’coatl more than anyone. He examined the piece carefully and glided his fingers over it gently.

His eyes glimmered. His mouth quivered in anticipation. Suddenly, his entire countenance changed and melted into a sigh. He shook his head slowly.

“No, Indy,” he said. “I’m sorry. You didn’t get it. This is imitation cheese.”

When I woke up from my dream, I realized that I really shouldn’t have had that pizza so late in the evening.

For fans of the original Narnia film, Caspian presents complete culture shock. Gone are the vast green fields and talking beavers that told of great lions. Instead, we’re met with a group of humans that behave… well… like humans. For a brief period of time, I wondered whether or not I was in the right multiplex auditorium. This was the first of many jarring distractions in what could have been a glorious cinematic experience.

Perhaps this is a good time for a few disclosures. I’m probably one of the few English-speaking men in the western pantheon who has not read any of the Narnia books. My own history with Narnia was (until the previous film) the animated film that apparently stuck to the book almost to the letter.

This fact probably hindered my ability to enjoy this movie, and revealed one of its most glaring faults: it can’t stand on its own. Reading the book is almost as required as seeing the predecessor. Otherwise, the audience has to spend half the film catching up. One of the characteristics of a great film is that it should be written and presented without the need “study up” on its source material. Reading the book should enhance a film’s greatness, not be a prerequisite.

Another disclaimer: because I’m a bit hard of hearing, I found it difficult to understand the dialogue. BBC America has a promo that says, “even Brits have a hard time understanding Brits. Use your closed captioning.” How I wish I had closed captioning for this film! But hey, I managed to figure out what was going on—eventually.

Caspian is a story that focuses on the title character, played by newcomer Ben Barnes (last seen in Stardust), whose likeness will surely begin adorning the walls of new teenybopper fans on both sides of the pond. Young Caspian is, of course, a prince that is harshly awoken by his mentor Cornelius (Vincent Grass) with only moments to spare before his traitorous uncle’s (Sergio Castelitto) soldiers arrive to kill him

Clearly, this is not the start of a good day. The film then sends the young, dashing prince into the depths of the forest, only to be discovered by dwarves and a badger with a real attitude. Talking animals are always the delight of children, and highlight one of the great difficulties that Caspian presents: just what kind of film is this?

Is it meant to be a medieval war film? Or is it a children’s movie? Maybe it’s supposed to be fantasy. No, wait. It’s meant to be a morality play. Is it possible for all of them to be wrapped up into one? Well, it’s possible. That doesn’t always mean it works when they’re all jumbled together.

The audience for Caspian is built-in. With its Christian allegory roots by C.S. Lewis, church groups and evangelical families everywhere will flock to theatre doors to see their favorite fantasy put to the big screen. Strangely, though, director Andrew Adamson managed to weave the film into a piece of secular entertainment that barely hints of its allegorical origins.

The climactic battle scene is the moment where the film finds its groove. However, after nearly two hours that precedes it, the eyes of most of the audience would have glazed over, rudely startled back into the film’s universe by the arrival of two great forces about to do what great forces do: beat the daylights out of each other.

One doesn’t have to live by any major philosophy to know that every film has a message; and every film has a core intent and purpose. The problem that Caspian has at its core is that it’s not sure of its own purpose, much like the Pevensie children themselves.

One of the major bright points of the film is young Lucy Pevensie (Georgie Henley) and her singular, epic quest: The search for Aslan (voiced once again by Liam Neeson). No matter how frustrated the others were with her desire to see the great ruler of Narnia. Another high point is Reepicheep, a warrior mouse (voiced by Eddie Izzard) and his big attitude. The CGI is among the best seen in recent years, and only adds to the quality of the many non-human characters.

Most moviegoers will find that they liked Caspian, even though there’s something in the back of their mind that questions why. This is the second of four planned Narnia films, and it’s already surpassed the tone and overall quality of the first film. With a hint of fun, a touch of sporadic greatness, and an overall darkness that adds a sense of dread, it is one wasted opportunity after another.

To be sure, Caspian has a clear vision of greatness. It’s too bad that it never quite achieves it. It could have been the best film of the year. Instead, it will fade away into obscurity as yet another mediocre Saturday matinée that never reached its full potential.

It’s by no means a bad movie. In fact, it’s really quite good. Director Steven Spielberg, Producer George Lucas, and Harrison Ford all fit back into their old clothes quite nicely, especially the latter as he puts on the famous hat and title role once again. To put it plainly, he’s still got it. Harrison Ford is Indiana Jones. He owns the role like a seasoned Rolex, and there’s no sign that he ever let it go.

Set in 1957, nearly twenty years after the events of the Last Crusade, Crystal Skull picks up in an eerily-familiar warehouse that supposedly houses a particular artifact that Soviet KGB officials seem to require. The Soviets are led by Irina Spalko(Cate Blanchett), one of the least-developed villains in the entire series. Blanchett has done well with her Russian accent, but aside from that, there’s really not a whole lot going for her.

David Koepp, a long-time screenwriting ally of Spielberg, has delivered a capable script, presenting great dialogue between the lead characters. One of the downfalls of this sequel is the same with most sequels: an assumed knowledge of previous films. Koepp reunites Jones with Raiders flame Marion Ravenwood (Karen Allen), which could have been a great moment in the film, but turns into little more than a rehash of the last time they were together.

Allen retains much of the spark and passion that gave her character such a boost in Raiders, but her involvement seems to be more contrived than a real necessity to the film. In fact, this only illustrates one of the film’s greatest weakness: it tries too much to be another Raiders.

Shia LaBeouf appears as greaser slacker “Mutt” Williams, who enters Indy’s life just while everyone else is looking for him. Of course, this is yet another setup for an action scene for the old teacher and young man who has a knack for getting out of tight spaces.

Rounding out the cast is the quirky and entirely too underdeveloped Professor Oxley (John Hurt) who was widely rumored to be cast as Dr. Abner Ravenwood. Well, the rumor wasn’t true, but Hurt’s contribution is sadly a little too trite for my taste, and is a bit of a waste of his talents. Both Marion and Oxley could have been great characters, but they are mere shadows of what they could have been.

The film culminates in an ancient tomb and temple, and its ultimate payoff will leave many audiences satisfied with its grandeur. But then, it’s no Raiders. It’s better than Temple of Doom, and it’s still a great bit of fun. Hey, it’s Indiana Jones! It’s a story that is filled with action, sword fights (yes, sword fights), betrayal, big explosions - REALLY big explosions, and plenty of McCarthyism-era atmosphere to give chills down the spine of anyone familiar with that era in American history.

What makes these films work is that they are a kind of nostalgia in and of themselves. The first three films were a throwback to the old movie serials, and gave 1980s summer audiences a hero to root for no matter how bad things got. This new film carries on that legacy quite well, and adds 1950’s science fiction schtick into the mix. Not only that, the nostalgia for its own predecessors.

Spielberg, Lucas, Ford, and Allen appear to all be looking to relive a time when summer adventure movies were still thought of as a risk, and and everything had to be big and bold in order for it to work. LeBeouf adds a new element to the mix, and his smarmy smile is a perfect fit for a tale set in a rather dark time in America’s history.

Their latest collaboration is indeed a success, giving us another chapter in both ancient legends and modern heroes, with a glimpse of a new generation of yet another Jones to take the reins in future films. Early in the film, Indy is goaded by his Russian captors about how great communism is. His response is distinctly American: “I like Ike.”

For me, despite all of its very real flaws, “I like Indy.”

We Clarksvillians do love to gripe about how our city government is being run, and we love pointing fingers even more. But where do we point our fingers in blame for these stratospheric gasoline prices?

The first place many of us often look is to those evil oil companies. After all, ExxonMobil netted a profit of $40 Billion (yeah, that’s billion - with a ‘B’) in the first quarter of 2008. Those “evil moguls” just keep sticking it to us, don’t they? Well, of course they do.

“Big Oil” has long since been the bad guys in our current political atmosphere, and they’re often painted as fat-greedy pigs who have their flunkies in governmental power. Oh, we all know the line. “Bush and Cheney are in cahoots with Big Oil, so we’ll get higher prices, blah, blah, blah.”

Before I go any further, I think it’s appropriate for me to point out that I’m usually a little more progressive (read: liberal) than most of my neighbors. So it might come as a bit of surprise that I might have some great amount of disdain for the entire “Big Evil Oil” party line.

I have an equal amount of disdain for the “supply and demand” argument that is spouted by vocal conservatives. “We keep buying it, and they can’t keep up with the demand, blah, blah, blah.” Quite frankly, I’m insulted every time I listen to people from both camps on this critical national crisis.

So which is it? Well, both. And neither. Big Oil has skewered the public, and it’s all about supply and demand, but it’s neither. How’s that for clarity? Okay, maybe I can break it down a little bit. The problem lies with one, singular group of people.

Us.

That’s right. The problem lies with you and me. We’re sheep being led to the slaughter, and as I said before, we’re letting them! Here we are–rational, reasoning human beings–who are allowing “Big Oil” to jack up the prices of oil and gasoline.

It’s really not rocket science. We know that the internal combustion engine is obsolete technology. We know that there are other, more clean forms of energy to be had. But what do we do about it? Here’s a hint: nothing. We’re not doing a damned thing about it.

We’re not demanding alternatives. We’re not making lifestyle changes. We’re not writing our congressmen or senators to pass laws that restrict oil use. We’re not encouraging people to invent clean energy. But what are we doing? Oh, that’s the kicker. We’re blaming everyone else!

“THEY” are holding back the technology. “THEY” haven’t figured out how to charge for clean energy, so it’s not available. “THEY” this. “THEY” that. And then there’s the activists. “THEY” are just a bunch of treehuggers. “THEY” are environmentalist whackos. We all know the lines, don’t we?

Here’s the simple reality: “THEY” have been allowed to rule our lives, and we’re too lazy to get off our own pumps to take hold of our own destiny. After all, it’s so much easier to blame “THEM” and not look into the real cause of our own crisis. The film V for Vendetta includes a line that’s chillingly relevant:

Well certainly there are those more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable—if you’re looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror. — V

Our current crisis goes far beyond the election booth—where our current failed leadership will indeed be held accountable—it goes into our daily lives and our constant consumption of the new great opiate of the 21st century: oil. It’s no longer a means for industrial progress, it’s become a commodity for all parts of our lives.

The reality is that those who are most guilty are each and every one of us who complains, but does nothing. We’ll fill up our large gas tanks and never consider actually reducing how far and how often we drive. We’ll never take the bus. We’ll never carpool. It’s all about our own superiority, isn’t it?

No, my friends. The time has come for action and sacrifice. The time has come for accountability. Let’s put an stop to these incompetent attempts to get oil companies to lower their prices, really. And you know the ones I’m talking about: those “gas-out” days where we send out millions of emails to not buy gas on a certain day. This never works. why? Because we’re still USING the gas. It’s just changing the day we buy it.

The reality is that we’re just not cutting the demand! Cut the demand, and then all of the sudden, the supplies return, and the prices come down. It all boils down to simple individual responsibility. Use less. Drive less. Use green power. Make tough choices. Demand alternatives. USE those alternatives. None of those who are the “THEY” will ever pay attention so long as it’s just a few voices in the wilderness.

It’s only now that we’re realizing that those voices have been right all along, and now we’re faced with the consequences of our inaction. It’s not too late to turn the tide, but we have to be willing to pay the price. How long will it take before we start demanding those alternatives? Months? Years? Do we wait until we see $10 per gallon prices? Do we wait until we’re in a full blown recession?

We can’t afford to wait. We have to act. We have to revolt against our own complacency. Forget ANWR. Forget the Middle East. It’s time to ask ourselves whether or not we’re ready to insist on change from within and from our leadership. We don’t need new sources for oil, we just need to find a way to stop consuming that oil.

Smaller cars. Electric engines. More buses. RIDING the bus when they’re available. WALK. Bicycle. Repair, replace, or add sidewalks (whoops, I went there, didn’t I?). The list goes on and on. But no matter what’s on the list, it requires something from each of us: determination. commitment, and passion.

And finally, it requires action… besides griping at the pump.

SACRAMENTO— In a ruling delivered today by the California Supreme Court, Proposition 22, which defined marriage as between a man and a woman, was deemed to be unconstitutional. The 4-3 decision was delivered today at 10:00 AM PST.

Writing for the majority, Chief Justice Ronald M. George said:

“…in light of the conclusions we reach concerning the constitutional questions brought to us for resolution, we determine that the language of section 300 limiting the designation of marriage to a union “between a man and a woman” is unconstitutional and must be stricken from the statute, and that the remaining statutory language must be understood as making the designation of marriage available both to opposite-sex and same-sex couples.”

The full text of the decision and its dissents can be read here.

With the Summer Blockbuster season of 2008 in full swing, Speed Racer spins the wheels of the typical action film in every bad way possible. I actually lost count at the number of times I actually rolled my eyes — I think they were moving faster than the iconic Mach Five at some points.

Speed Racer stars Emile Hirsch in the title role (that was rumored to have been offered to Charlie Sheen at one point). I really don’t know how Hirsch managed to pull it off, but his Speed was actually more two-dimensional than the original cartoon. A true accomplishment. John Goodman, no stranger to cartoons-turned-into-bad-movies, fills the very large shirt of Pops Racer, and probably has the best and most sentimental lines of the film. Trust me, that’s not saying much.

Susan Sarandon and Christina Ricci are Mom and Trixie respectively, and I really can’t help but to think that they actually had to shut off their brains to say some of the lines in the film. Surely, someone said to the Wachowskis what Harrison Ford said to George Lucas at one point during the filming of another, far-more-successful summer film: “You can write this s…, George, but you can’t say it.”

Speaking of excrement, it manages to work its way into the script, literally in the form of “chim-chim cookies,” which probably goes over the head of its target audience. We saw it with “A Night at the Museum,” and for some reason, it’s supposed to be funny. Maybe we need to contact Andy and Larry Wachowski and politely say, “You can throw this s…, guys, but you can’t write it.”

Seriously, The Wachowski Brothers are better than this. They really are. Unfortunately, this film reveals many of the same faults that were seen throughout the two Matrix sequels. Some films are built around great stories. Other films are built around great scenes. Sadly, films like Speed Racer are built around great concepts, and nothing more. No, wait. It’s not concepts. It was built around a visual idea.

Alas, it’s this visual theme that will appeal to boys under 12 and anyone whose exposure to anime is limited to the Speed Racer cartoon, which was an English adaptation of Mach GoGoGo. Even with Space Cruiser Yamato (later Americanized into Star Blazers) had more depth than Speed Racer ever did. Of course, Gatchaman is what really turned anime onto its heels during those days. (Do yourself a favor and bypass the Battle of the Planets DVDs and go straight for the original Japanese subtitled Gatchaman.) Speed Racer was the first anime to gain popularity in the United States, and literally broke ground for the series to follow.

A few years ago, Speed Racer was played on MTV and created a whole new legion of fans - or did it? This isn’t exactly a rabid following. A true test of a cartoon—er, excuse me—anime’s longevity is how well the stories hold up when we return to watch them as adults. As much as I regret saying it, Speed Racer didn’t hold up to that very simple test. It was built around the ludicrous, but that’s part of what made it work.

Sadly, the film version of Speed Racer is so over-the-top with its myriad of flybys, twists, turns, flashes, and color streaks, that the viewer is so overwhelmed with visual candy that it begins to feel like a sugar rush. Also like a sugar rush, it eventually makes the stomach churn. Throw in a few monkey-throwing-feces jokes and boy-flipping-off-the-bad-guy jokes, and we have the the true target audience of this film: Everyone under ten.

Much press had been made how the Wachowskis wanted to make a family film that everyone could enjoy. Well, I’m still waiting to see it. Speed Racer has none of the depth, grit, passion, or wonder that we saw in The Matrix. It tries to be subversive like V for Vendetta, but in the end, the only subversion is against anything and everything that makes for a good film.

Then I realized that so was Downey’s character, Tony Stark. This began a glimmer of hope. Gwyneth Paltrow was cast as Stark’s executive assistant Pepper Potts. Thus another twinkle. With Jeff Bridges added to the principle cast, there was finally something that wasn’t in the mix before: hope that it just might not suck!

Iron Man, like all of the other superhero films of late have three standards it must meet before it will be accepted in the realm of great movies. The question isn’t whether it would be good; instead, it was a question of whether it would reach the level of quality that was seen with 2002’s Spider-Man, 2005’s Batman Begins, and the ultimate superhero film standard, 1978’s Superman: The Movie. To date, only one comic book film has surpassed all of these standards, and that was Spider-Man 2, released in 2004.

Either Iron Man would hold up to these standards, or it would be another abysmal failure in the lines of Elektra, DareDevil, or Hulk. To say those movies were bad is an understatement.

Well, true believers, Iron Man does NOT suck. In fact, it’s so refreshingly brilliant that it sets itself as a standard in its own right. The script is refreshingly sharp, as Mark Fergus, Hawk Ostby, Art Marcum, and Matt Holloway somehow were able to deliver even after several rewrites. The characters are real; they’re human, they’re smart, and they have depth. The first scene with Gwyneth Paltrow had me completely satisfied with her integrity as a great character.

The film’s true star, though, is Downey, who fills the screen with complete brilliance, and shines through at every opportunity. In a role that could have been nothing more than wit and one-liners, Downey deliverers a genuine depth that can only be touched on in future films.

Oh yes, the inevitable sequels. We’ve all seen films that say, “There’ll be a sequel” when we see some sort of ridiculous revival of a villain or a subtle-as-a-baseball-hint that makes such a sequel obvious. A good example would be the 1980 camp classic Flash Gordon when a supposedly-dead Ming (Max Von Sydow) picks up his ring after the closing credits.

Yes, there’s a setup for a franchise with Iron Man, but its final scene is so refreshing, so satisfying, and so sharp in its dialogue, that a sequel is practically mandatory. What’s more, it leaves the viewer completely open to any number of possibilities; all of which in a world of hope. There are two films which have similar “final scenes;” Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home with the brand-new Enterprise-A flying into outer space, and the final flyby of the DeLorean in 1985’s Back to the Future.

The film opens and closes with dialogue from Downey’s Tony Stark, but it’s everything in between that elevates the film into full flight. The characters are rich, they’re deep, and they’re human. Even the final showdown with the Iron Monger (a beefed up version of Stark’s super suit) is met with a brutality that lets the audience feel every punch.

While there are indeed elements in the film that could have been trimmed or cut back, I actually WANTED to see the construction of the suits. It’s what was lacking in the first Spider-Man film. Part of the Spider-Man lore is that Peter created his own suit, but that was done with classic Sam Raimi shorthand. Favreau, on the other hand, not only made the technology believable, but he made his title character’s genius equally believable.

Clearly, Favreau knew that a film about incredibly intricate technology should also include equally complex characters. Every nut, every bolt, every twitch, and every quirk is seen. The plot, while somewhat predictable is as complex as a movie like this should be. In short, it works like the well-oiled machine that it is.

Iron Man is the first film of the 2008 Summer film season, and already it sets the tone - action movies can be great fun, and they can actually be great. It’s a classic popcorn movie that will thrill audiences all around with a ride that isn’t just escapism; it’s fantastic. Fanboys will appreciate the suits that were designed by Iron Man comic artists, and the rest of us will appreciate the fact that Iron Man is a fun ride for everyone.

Constipated Christianity: A form of religious impersonation where the devotee is always tense, bloated, and never moves. It’s characterized by constant straining, nothing good ever comes out. As a result, the poor person is just generally full of it.

It’s crude and offensive. It’s sophomoric. Yes, I know. This also happens to be all too true! Makes me wonder if there’s a spiritual laxative. Of course, the opposite of this would be religious diarrhea. And believe me, I DON’T want to define that one since it’s pretty self-evident.

Neither is pretty. Both are ugly pictures of what can easily come about when someone takes their eyes off the glory of Jesus Christ. When someone is so stuck on tradition (we’ve always done it like that!) and scoffs at new ideas and new ways to reach the unchurched, it’s easy to criticize… especially when an idea is totally unconventional.

Some of the most controversial styles of ministries I’ve seen over the years have been those who have attempted to reach people who are really “out there.” A great example would be Revolution Church, a ministry started by Jay Bakker, son of Jim Bakker and the late Tammy Faye Messner.

Jay Bakker is covered with tattoos, piercings, and a radical idea: embrace everyone. He and his staff oversee churches in Atlanta, New York City, and Charlotte, NC. What’s amazing is that he and the board of directors of Revolution even allows people in his ministry to disagree with him. Now THAT is unconventional.

A primary example is the radical difference between Bakker and Stu Damron, who oversees the Atlanta church. Their disagreement isn’t a small one, either: homosexuality. Bakker (as much of the evangelical community will quickly point out) is in support of full equality for gay and lesbian people, and even goes so far as to say that gay relationships aren’t sinful (for the record, I agree with him).

Damron, on the other hand, disagrees. He believes that being gay is in itself not sinful, but sexual relationships are. The two men love each other dearly, but they disagree a great deal this issue - an issue that would split most churches.

They agree on one critical factor, though. They both believe that God’s love for people is completely unconditional, and that His grace applies no matter what. That’s pretty radical, I think.

Maybe I should bring this to home. I’ve had a long-time friendly debate with a dear friend of mine, John Renken. Renken is founder and senior pastor of Xtreme Ministries here in Clarksville, Tennessee. Naturally, this debate centers around the morality and apparent sinfulness of gay relationships. Let me be perfectly clear about one thing, though: there is absolutely no relation of Xtreme Ministries with Revolution Church.

Much like the disagreement between Jay Bakker and Stu Damron, John and I will probably not see eye-to-eye anytime soon (this is evident through comments on this site). And really, that’s quite all right. Our love for God and each other as Christian brethren are stronger than any disagreements. God knows I’d like to slap him sometimes, but I know better… After all, he has several black belts.

Pastor Renken’s own story is as incredible as one might imagine and includes a powerful conversion. He was once a member of the temple of Set, a branch of the church of Satan. He was confronted with the power of the living, risen Savior, and has been a passionate Christian ever since.

Make no mistake about it, though. Renken is still very much a gruff, no-holds-barred kind of guy. His work also includes running a mixed martial arts gym, and he fights frequently on the ultimate fighting circuit. His fighting name is John “The Saint” Renken. This guy has literally kicked the ass of every single stereotype of what most people think a pastor should be.

There’s something to this idea of a refreshing form of Christianity that is willing to look beyond differences and embrace things on which we agree. We both agree that the Church at large has treated the gay and lesbian community horribly, and we both agree that God’s grace extends to anyone who calls upon the name of the Lord Jesus.

Grace is indeed an incredible thing; especially when we have the grace to have a Godly friendship with those with whom we disagree–even strongly. I believe with all my heart that the Lord is continuing a movement where He is bringing people together despite disagreements, to build a Body that is without identity; the true body of Christ.

I’m certainly not too arrogant to believe that our friendship is the start of that kind of Christian fellowship overall. I do, however, think that the Lord is bringing His people from all walks of life together for a singular purpose: glorifying His name, and showing the rest of the world around us that Christianity is not a joke, it’s not just a bunch of crap, and His people aren’t constipated.

In fact, we’re rarely tense, hardly ever strain, we have complete freedom in the glory of the living risen Savior, and we are most certainly filled with the Holy Spirit Himself. That’s not just relief from constipated Christianity, it’s deliverance.

Note: This article was previously published on the author’s blog, Skipping to the Piccolo.

I smiled and said, “then it’ll be a refreshing change.”

All kidding aside, there’s plenty to say about visiting our country’s most populated city. Its history is replete with everything that makes for great movies, including making movies. It was Hollywood before Hollywood. The country’s comic book industry began there. It’s the first place in the world where “going up” meant REALLY going up. Skyscrapers became the norm as early as the 1920s. They hit their heyday in the early 1930s when the Chrysler Building and the legendary Empire State Building was built.

Sure, I knew all this before we arrived in Manhattan. No matter how much about New York I thought I knew, I could never have been fully prepared for the staggering reality that the Big Apple would present.

Legendary Empire

We only had a few days to see the City that Never Sleeps. My time was even more limited since I had to attend a seminar while in town. I didn’t complain a whole lot since the class was held inside the Empire State Building. I admit, I was a bit nostalgic the entire time.

One of my favorite books of all time is Michael Chabon’s Pulitzer-prize winning The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay. It’s a story of two Jewish boys that live in 1930’s New York City, who created their own comic book that was eventually published by Empire Comics – you guessed it – with an office in the Empire State Building. If you’re even half the comic book nerd I was as a kid, then you’ll not be able to put this book down.

My best friend of 30 years called while I was in the elevator, the very same best friend who suggested – no, demanded – that I read Kavalier. He asked what I was doing. “Oh, I’m getting off an elevator in the Empire State Building.”

“You suck!” he said. I knew he had been to New York before, but he never made it to the Empire. We talked a little about the book, and he reiterated just how much he hated me at that moment. I never felt better.

By the way, there’s a comic book store right across from the ESB on 33rd Street called “Empire Comics.” I resisted the temptation to go into that store – my bank account can only take so much!

My seminar was in itself an experience, as it was a class called “Train the Trainer.” Part of my profession is to conduct training classes in Photoshop and other Adobe products, so this is a step toward the needed certifications.

The class itself was small, with seven other training professionals (including the instructor), all from New York. Once they knew I was from out of town – a Southerner, even – they went out of their way to welcome me. I enjoyed telling them about my home state as much as they enjoyed telling me about all their favorite eateries and hangouts.

The conversation migrated to the events of September 11, a topic I really didn’t want to broach. After all, those atrocities happened right there in New York City. I felt a ping in my spine the first time I saw the skyline from the George Washington bridge; a skyline without the twin towers of the World Trade Center.

One man, Obinna Nwoke, whose family hailed from Nigeria, told with teary eyes how he went to work even mere days after the 11th. “The smell from the buildings – it was horrible – it lasted for months,” he said. Even after more than six years, it still brings tears to his eyes. He told of how he had to go through several checkpoints in order to get to his job, which happened to be in Lower Manhattan at the time. He described it as constant state of fear. “I just wanted to go to work,” Nwoke said. He added, “We were scared every time we went into a building.”

I finally understood what that line in RENT meant: “I’m a New Yorker. Fear is my life.” I couldn’t imagine what they went through during that horribly dark time. I recounted how we gathered around our television sets that morning. To actually be in the city where the buildings collapsed, well, it’s a whole new feeling of comprehension. The men I got to know in that room all had their own story to tell. Ultimately, though, they were stories of overcoming. They overcame their fear, their anxieties, and found a renewed strength and passion to do their jobs; terrorism be damned. I felt a sense of pride as an American as I got to hear their stories.

There was a sense of even greater urgency as we discussed these events in another of the world’s tallest buildings, a building that had itself been hit by a plane once. When I left the Empire later that afternoon, I did so not as a visitor, but as someone who was welcomed as a fellow New Yorker, even if it was to be just for a few days.

Subway – Which Way?

Aside from big buildings, New York City has one major challenge for all visitors from out of town: public transportation. The city boasts one of the world’s best public transportation systems (and arguably the most taxis per capita I’ve ever seen).

Whether you want to take a bus or the Subway, you’re sure to get around town very quickly (as long as you don’t drive).
That is, once you figure out just where the hell you want to go. Central Park? Take the A, B, or C train. Uptown? Take the D or F train. Downtown? Take any of these trains, but be sure you’re going the right direction. Crosstown? Take the 1, 2, or 3 trains. Whew. Thank heaven the local NYPD officers were so helpful (and patient) for visitors to ask which train to take.

The Subway has a mystique of its own, which presented to me an experience like I’ve never seen: The subway preacher. One afternoon while I was headed toward Columbus Square, I entered a train that would be at least a five minute ride to the next stop. An African-American man entered the train with a huge duffel bag and began his inspiring message by asking for donations to help his church feed the homeless.

After a few “God Bless You’s,” he began his fiery sermon of how he was once a crackhead, and now he’s filled with the Holy Spirit, changed by the power of God. He spoke with passion and power. Interestingly, though, the entire car largely ignored the man. They listened to their iPods (I think there are more iPods per capita in New York than anywhere else in the world), they read their copy of the New York Post. For me, it was a fascinating experience. For everyone else on the train, it was just another day on the Subway.

My companion and I both bought MetroCards for use around town, which is essential. There are kiosks around town that sell the ubiquitous cards – giving every New Yorker a chance to get around town at their leisure.

Lights, Camera, M&Ms!

If any particular place in New York is overwhelming to this Southern boy, then it’s certainly Times Square. We’ve all seen films that feature this legendary intersection, as well as the countless New Year’s Eve events. There’s seeing it on TV, and then there’s actually seeing it! The lights are as dazzling as they are breathtaking. They move, they dance, they have forty-foot video screens. The Coca-Cola sign, in its latest incarnation, is a broken-up computerized gizmo that has dozens of smaller screens to make up the whole.

In short, the whole experience of Times Square was “Bambi, meet headlights.” I’ll freely admit it: I gawked the entire time. No matter how mentally prepared I was, the dazzle of the Times Square lights was enough to give me a sense of being incredibly, hopelessly small.

I don’t know what came over me. I was instantly on a beeline to some place special. I couldn’t help myself. I was irresistibly drawn to the M&M World store. Call it curiosity, or just call me a “sucker,” but I couldn’t help myself. I HAD to see that store. My sister told me of it, so I knew it was going to be an unique experience. Boy, was it ever!

The store features a myriad of M&M-themed items, all of which were stamped with either the “m” logo or had one (or many) of their M&M mascot characters adorning them.

Along two inner walls were vast columns, each filled with a single color of M&Ms. Combined, they formed a confection spectrum that drew dozens of people at a time, each filling their own bag of M&Ms with their favorite color. I created a red-white-and-blue bag for myself. For my purple-centric partner, it was to be a bag of purple and teal candies.

Now the big question is whether we want to eat them – alas, I’m sure the nostalgia will wear off eventually. I suspect that if I bring them to the office, that my fellow artists will devour them in just a few minutes

The Big Apple in the Big Apple

I admit it. I’m an Apple nerd. I’ve turned over a new leaf. This former windoze-only guy has now been converted into a Mac evangelist! Want to play? Windoze is fine. But if you want to get real work done, then get a Mac! There. I did the “get-a-Mac” spiel. Now go buy yourself a Mac so you can be cool like the rest of us.

Being cool isn’t the only reason to get a Mac, however. When you have a Mac, you can be one of the millions of people who get misty-eyed every time you walk into an Apple store. What’s more, you can visit Apple’s flagship store on 5th Avenue, near Central Park. It is heralded by a giant glass cube with a simple apple logo hovering in the middle of it.

A friend of ours offered to meet us at the Apple store on Wednesday before we went to dinner. Who was I to complain about such a wonderfully brilliant idea? We quickly agreed.

We also deliberately arrived at the store about an hour early so we could properly drool over all the new Macs – especially that nifty little MacBook Air. It’s small, it’s sleek. It’s incredibly light. But no optical drive. Oh well. I’ll stick with my two-week-old MacBook Pro instead.

I know. I’m such a nerd. I was also a nerd in a store full of fellow Mac nerds, and it was indeed Mac heaven. I’m even getting misty-eyed just thinking about it. I actually felt a little depressed that I was already content in my Mac ownership that I didn’t even need to get that mini-DVI-to-VGA adapter. Oh well.

Everything is RENT

One simply cannot visit New York without taking in one of the many shows on Broadway. I found out that RENT, the popular play that opened in 1996 to rave reviews, was due to close this year. It spawned a major motion picture and at least two major soundtracks.

It was a cultural phenomenon as well, and created a whole new class of play attendees called “RentHeads.” These are people who wait at the door in the hopes of getting a chance to sit on the front two rows for only $20 a ticket. After all, what good is a story about bohemia if bohemians can’t see it?

Written as an adaptation of La Vie Boheme, it tells the tale of a group of friends in the late 1980’s who all must endure the impact of HIV and AIDS. What makes the story so universal in its appeal is that while there are indeed some gay subplots, they are merely parts of the overall story.

RENT was written by the late Jonathan Larson, who died of a heart attack the night before opening night. It cast a huge, dark shadow over the entire production. That shadow didn’t last long as the popularity of the play grew into the spotlight once everyone realized that it was actually a great play. Larson’s death actually grew into the mythos of the play, appearing to give it a boost from beyond.

If you’ve seen the movie or heard the soundtrack, you know that there’s a scene during which Maureen encourages the audience to “moo” with her. Yes, we mooed. It was icing on a very rich cake of an evening of entertainment.

An Unexpected Pleasure

One of the most unanticipated delights of the trip was an impromptu visit to a small French diner that’s just across from an ornate French restaurant that looked too expensive to read the sign (maybe that’s why I don’t remember the name of the restaurant). This quant little diner presented a classic 1950’s décor that offered relief from the cold and rain with two older gentlemen who offered a quick dessert and coffee.

I ordered a simple cup of hot tea (with milk instead of lemon) and a Greek salad. I didn’t realize it came with anchovies. I figured, “what the hell?” and tasted one. My dad loves them, so why not? My taste buds apparently haven’t changed very much since the last time I tasted anchovies when I was a child. They were revolting. Not wanting to be an unwelcome guest, I simply moved the rest of them off the plate. Yuck. No more anchovies for David.

The diner itself looked a little out of place in modern New York City, but that was part of its charm. Anchovies aside (literally), there’s nothing like a cup of hot tea on a cold evening, especially after miles of walking in the country’s most storied city.

Oh, the walking. How could I forget? I remembered how much I felt the “burn” after walking through the Sequoia National Forest last year. Even that paled by comparison this time around. We walked so much that even my rear end hurt. I forgot there were muscles back there!

The Exclamation Point

In all, the trip was entirely too short. We visited the Museum of Natural History, only to be chased out after a couple of hours since it was close to closing time. I chuckled at the sight of a standee of the Ben Stiller film, “A Night in the Museum,” which featured the Natural History museum. The planetarium featured a “Cosmic Collisions” film narrated by Robert Redford, and a short film about the Big Bang, narrated by Maya Angelou.

On the other side of the museum were large dioramas and life-size replicas of animals that populate the globe. One room featured a full-size model of a blue whale. Another exhibit featured a cutting from a giant Sequoia. “Been there,” I thought to myself. It was over fourteen feet in diameter. It was a small one.

We took the subway back to the parking garage, and began our gridlocked trip out of town. I’m really glad we weren’t in a hurry, since it was plainly evident that we were going nowhere fast. I started to understand why there was so much advertising plastered all over the walls in New York – What else are drivers going to look at?

We left town via the Holland Tunnel, located on the south side of town. It’s a mile-long tunnel that literally goes under the mighty Hudson River. We emerged on the New Jersey side and began the journey to our next destination.

When we crested a hill a couple of miles later, we saw her. Yes, her. Lady Liberty. Sure, she was a good mile or two away, but there she was in all her glory. The sun had begun to set by then, and the lights were turned on, so she appeared to glow over the horizon.

My breath was completely taken away. Nothing in New York was as breathtaking as seeing the Statue of Liberty for the first time. I didn’t even think I’d be able to see her, but there she was. God, she was beautiful. I can only imagine the audible gasps that immigrants would release upon seeing her for the first time after a long sea voyage.

This trip was one experience in delight after another. To see the Statue of Liberty at its closure was as fitting of an exclamation point as I could imagine.

Leaving New York City was like leaving a new friend. I don’t think I’ll ever want to live there, but I sure want to go back.

The Clarksville Center Redevelopment Plan (CCRP) has been met with extreme opposition from residents in the affected area, who jokingly (or not) call their part of Clarksville “Blightville.” I’ve had the opportunity to attend a few of the meetings where the plan was discussed, and as a member of the Human Relations Commission, I’ve been on quite a few of the email lists where this topic has been the point of a lot of major contention. This has been so important that City Mayor Johnny Piper has distributed a letter to affected residents, which reads in part:

Recently, a group calling itself the Clarksville Property Rights Coalition has been distributing a flier that has false and misleading information about the redevelopment plan. I am particularly concerned with the allegation that the City desires to take property from business owners and residents and sell it to developers as part of eminent domain.

The flier states: “Your property can be condemned by a majority vote of the City Council and then resold to private developers.”

Please do not be frightened into believing what the Clarksville Property Rights Coalition is misrepresenting about the plan. The City of Clarksville has no intentions of taking your property. The redevelopment plan ordinance actually makes it harder for any government to exercise eminent domain. There are many layers of protection for property owners built into the ordinance that are not being revealed to you in these fliers distributed by the Clarksville Property Rights Coalition.

Note: the full text of the Mayor’s letter is provided at the end of this commentary.

While there are indeed many steps and protections in place for the use of eminent domain, the reality of the ordinance in its present form is that it removes one step by calling the entire area “blighted.” This is a valid concern, and I’ve said that on several occasions. It’s my understanding that the broad “blight” sweeping designation will be addressed in the forthcoming revised bill, as it should be. Mayor Piper’s letter also says:

The Clarksville Property Rights Coalition has been going door to door telling residents and business owners that the City of Clarksville is going to take your property and you will have 30 days to vacate the property. This scare tactic used by the CCRP is completely FALSE. This will not happen!

I’ve also been hearing (and reading) these claims of how “certain people” associated with the Property Rights Coalition are allegedly telling residents that they’ll be told to leave their homes in “30 days” if the plan goes into effect. This is simply not true and is a gross and distorted misrepresentation of everything that the Coalition is working for.

I don’t know if the claim is just a way to demonize the CPRC leaders, or if a few misinformed individuals are voicing their own fears about the plan. Either way, it’s important that false information be dismissed as such. I urge anyone who is making these claims to better understand the ordinance. The reality is that the Mayor is quite correct. The claim that residents will be given thirty days to vacate their homes is completely false. However, I don’t know if these tactics are being spread by members of the CPRC. If this is true, then it should stop.

I’ve been wanting to read just what points of the ordinance were “misrepresented,” and with the distribution of the Mayor’s letter, we have exactly that. I would love to know, however, who has been spreading the idea that people would be given 30 days to vacate their homes. I’m not aware of any of this being said at any of the CPRC meetings. We’ve covered a lot of what WAS said, and I’ve yet to see any rebuttals to those points. The most that we have seen up until the Mayor’s letter was a constant dressing-down of John Summers. Alas, I’ve not read anything about what those “misrepresentations” were aside from two major points:

• Summers said that specific projects were required to be attached to any redevelopment plans. This is apparently in question, according to Mayor Piper and the Knoxville redevelopment group. Any information on this point would be especially helpful in understanding how this can be properly implemented.
• Summers said that this is, to his knowledge, the largest area that has ever been targeted for redevelopment. Words like “audacious” were used. However, the Council and Mayor have claimed that Knoxville and Nashville both have targeted similar-sized areas for redevelopment. What would really help in this point is some exact cases where this has been done effectively.

In short, could we get some information that would really help bolster these points WITHOUT attacking Mr. Summers, as we have seen from previous emails and quotes from various City officials and supporters? I know it’s great politics to attack a figurehead, but this is a group of several hundred residents whom you feel are being misled. We need facts, not attacks.

Mr. Summers was indeed a part of a project that was highly criticized by people in his ward when he was a councilman in Nashville. However, he was very popular for quite some time before that, since he had a track record of working with the public and preventing power abuses. No one is perfect, and it’s unfair for anyone to attack the messenger when there are some very specific points of the message that are valid:

• Affected Residents were not notified properly.
• The ordinance and redevelopment plan is entirely too broad and open-ended.
• There are too many questions of legality regarding the ordinance in its current form.
• The area designated as “blighted” is too large.

The above four points have been made by the Mayor in earlier statements and in this letter, and are reasons why it’s being revisited. There was a lot of sabre-rattling before the Mayor put the whole thing on hold, and in my opinion, these are the points that were paramount. I’m glad that the Council is going through this thorough research to build an ordinance which will beautify Clarksville and prevent existing residents from being driven from their homes. The last point is of particular interest and was addressed specifically in the Mayor’s letter:

I also believe that some of the language in the ordinance was inappropriate and should be changed.

For Example: The ordinance says, “it is a blighted area.”

To label the entire area as blighted was improper and this will be addressed in any future ordinance that is put forth. I will not support an ordinance which designates an entire area as blighted under any circumstances. In addition, the city council will be looking at the size of the redevelopment district. I plan to make a recommendation that the size of the district be reduced.

In a final thought, I’m told that there have allegedly been statements been made by some officials that we (Clarksville Online writers and the CPRC) are “uneducated” in the matters of the redevelopment plan. This is especially puzzling since we have not only read and reprinted the ordinance in its entirety, but also the DDP’s redevelopment plan itself. On this point, I need to be clear: if a matter affects a major group of people in Clarksville, we MUST be informed. Simply saying that we’re “uneducated” is unacceptable, and the only correct response is to educate the public as to why such action or ordinance is necessary, and the effect of those actions.

The most important thing, in my opinion, is for officials to avoid the impression of saying, “because we’re the experts.” Whether it’s true or not isn’t relevant, it’s the impression that has to be avoided. The reality is that such attitudes are neither appropriate nor acceptable. We’re all neighbors here, and we have a right to know what is going on, and city officials have the responsibility of disclosing the fine print about any ordinance.

Clearly, there’s a lot that needs to be done, and I believe that Clarksville will benefit from the discussions. Let’s keep everyone informed, and make sure that any redevelopment is appropriate for the city as a whole. No one is opposed to progress, and I have long been a supporter of earlier projects that were later abandoned. I look forward to seeing the CCRP presented in a manner that will benefit everyone, especially residents in and near the downtown area.

Affected Residents

The full text of the Mayor’s letter

February 4, 2008

John Q. Public
1234 First Street
Clarksville, TN 37040

Dear Property Owner,

Recently there has been much controversy surrounding the Clarksville Center Redevelopment Plan Ordinance that the City Council passed in October. I believe the controversy stems from misinformation about the plan that has been circulated by several groups over the past few weeks.

As you may or may not be aware, the Clarksville Center Redevelopment Plan is an initiative developed by the Downtown District Partnership and has been under review for the past three years. Newspaper articles from the Leaf Chronicle about this redevelopment plan date as far back as 2005.

I first became involved with the plan in February 2007 when the Downtown District Partnership leaders asked me to put it on the City Council agenda for a second reading. It was passed by the City Council on first reading in March of 2006, prior to me becoming Mayor. The City Council postponed the second reading so that the DDP and the property owners could meet to discuss some concerns that were raised by those that would be affected by the plan. Several meetings were held to reach an agreement by all parties involved on the details of the ordinance. When the leadership of the DDP approached the City Council about bringing the redevelopment plan before the city council for second reading again, we were assured by them that this plan had the full support of the property owners and any concerns they may have had were resolved.

Recently, a group calling itself the Clarksville Property Rights Coalition has been distributing a flier that has false and misleading information about the redevelopment plan. I am particularly concerned with the allegation that the City desires to take property from business owners and residents and sell it to developers as part of eminent domain.

The flier states: “Your property can be condemned by a majority vote of the City Council and then resold to private developers.”

Please do not be frightened into believing what the Clarksville Property Rights Coalition is misrepresenting about the plan. The City of Clarksville has no intentions of taking your property. The redevelopment plan ordinance actually makes it harder for any government to exercise eminent domain. There are many layers of protection for property owners built into the ordinance that are not being revealed to you in these fliers distributed by the Clarksville Property Rights Coalition.

The Clarksville Property Rights Coalition has been going door to door telling residents and business owners that the City of Clarksville is going to take your property and you will have 30 days to vacate the property. This scare tactic used by the CCRP is completely FALSE. This will not happen!

I want you to know that I am concerned about the controversy that has overshadowed the good intentions of the plan, but equally concerned that there were some procedures that were not followed properly in accordance with Tennessee law when developing the plan.

For Example: Tennessee law is very clear in stating that a public hearing should have been held and every property owner in the affected area should have been notified of the public hearing.

This did not happen and I can assure you that as we move forward with this issue a public hearing will be held and you will be notified in writing as to the date and location that the public hearing will be take place. I want to give you, the property owners in the affected area, the opportunity to hear about the plan and the opportunity to make comments and ask questions about it. I also believe that some of the language in the ordinance was inappropriate and should be changed.

For Example: The ordinance says, “it is a blighted area.”

To label the entire area as blighted was improper and this will be addressed in any future ordinance that is put forth. I will not support an ordinance which designates an entire area as blighted under any circumstances. In addition, the city council will be looking at the size of the redevelopment district. I plan to make a recommendation that the size of the district be reduced.

Over the next month, you will see a lot of action by the City Council and myself in regards to the Clarksville Center Redevelopment Plan. I will propose to the City Council at the February City Council meeting that we establish a whole new ordinance that addresses this issue. Additionally, a group of community leaders and representatives from the affected neighborhoods will be traveling to Knoxville on February 6th to meet with representatives from the Knoxville Redevelopment Corporation (a group that has extensive experience with similar redevelopment plans) to discuss how their redevelopment plans were created.

Please visit the City of Clarksville website at www.cityofclarksville.com to get more information about the Clarksville Center Redevelopment Plan. I will be seeking your input as we move forward with this initiative and I hope you will participate in the process.

Sincerely,

John E. Piper