Thursday, February 16, 2017

Wouldn't it have been easier to...

Geek Arguments #1
I am in no small part, a bit of a geek. I've argued about Star Wars and Star Trek minutiae as though knowing how a light saber worked or untangling time paradoxes earned me money. I can argue over comics, sci-fi movies, football strategy, and even dabble a bit in video game smugness (for no reason I can think of). This time, prompted by what should be an obvious answer about a movie nobody cares about, I just have to set the record straight for nobody in particular. That and I just can't talk politics anymore for a while.    

Ben Affleck likes to relate the story that during the production of Armageddon (a terrible film that I will watch over and over) that when he asked the question "Wouldn't it have been easier to train the astronauts to drill?" that director Micheal Bay told him to "shut the f**k up." This of course was the proper answer. Because Ben's question was stupid and he should have just shut the f**k up. 

Let me state definitively that NO, it wouldn't have been easier to train astronauts to drill. Everyone would have died. Are we clear? Oh, you want an explanation?

While it is true that astronauts are smart, most holding several degrees as well as being engineers, the idea that they would be able to immediately be able to grasp all the fine points of drilling in the week or so of training they would have received is the height of elitist thinking. Proficiency or even mastery of Discipline A does not automatically translate into easy of learning semi-related Discipline B. The intellectual arrogance here is staggering, starting with the assumption that "drilling" must be easy. But rather than get into a long line of theory of the nuances of mining and instead I'm going to use the film itself show why this is terrible assumption.
Wouldn't trust them with a potato gun.
First, when the hero, Harry Stamper, arrives at NASA it's originally because government stole his drill design to use on Mars but now want to use it on the asteroid, but can't make the damned thing work. Let me say that again : a group of NASA scientists, engineers and the man the NASA director called the 'smartest man on the planet' can't figure out how to make a particular drill work after presumably weeks of going at it. Presumably one or two of the engineers present even had some mining expertise, but it still didn't help them. On the other hand, Harry the not NASA engineer arrives and after looking at the equipment for less than a minute not only tells them the issues they're probably experiencing (and he's correct) but also diagnoses the problem. But mining must be simple, right? The equipment a breeze to operate?  

Secondly, when the spaceship actually arrives on the asteroid, Harry's team faces a number of unexpected challenges. First, they overshoot the landing and instead of the intended drilling site land on an 'iron plate.' Would the less experienced trained for a week Astronaut miners have even tried to drill there? Assuming they did, the first drill bit breaks after ten feet, something Max recognizes by feel. Would a less experienced trained for a week Astronaut miner have recognized it as quickly as Max? Then, the other experienced miner Chick defers to Harry who decides they need to break out a special bit, referred to in the film as 'the judge.' Would a less experienced trained for a week Astronaut miner been able to make the determination that they weren't just unlucky? Would they have been able to handle the gas pockets, the ones the experienced miners couldn't? 

And finally, would a less experienced trained for a week Astronaut miners have taken the Time to Drill Card as gospel, dropped off the nuke and evacuated? Especially when you consider that the Astronaut who was there was prepared and willing to shoot someone did just that! The weird part is that based upon the data at hand, the Astronaut made the right call - they should have dumped the nuke because by all rights they shouldn't reached the depth needed. 

Honestly, when Chick's son called him "that salesman"...
It was only the drillers expertise that saved the entire operation. Yes, because NASA chose the drillers over the astronauts (in this movie universe) the world was saved. I'm not even going to mention the other asteroid movie of the time went exactly the other way. Okay, I'll mention it. How did that work out for them then? Right, everyone on the spaceship had to make the ultimate sacrifice so the planet only got a little blowed up. Got it? And since I've brought Deep Impact up now, anyone know why there were carrying the extra nukes? 

So, this is why to question of wouldn't sending astronauts have been simpler in Armageddon, the answer is a resounding NO. Teaching roughnecks how not to die in space clearly was. I realize that astronauts are smart. Very smart. But smart doesn't translate to a universal expertise.  

Can we let this go now? And someone tell Affleck to shut the fuck up.

Tuesday, February 14, 2017

Valentines...and thoughts of Love.

If you've never had a regret, then you've never been in love. 

Love rarely goes perfectly. Most of us have a regret that calls back to us when we think about love, because love is usually an unscheduled demanding mess. It's two people meeting at just the right moment in their lives to open to the possibilities, and then willing to work together to make those possibilities into something akin to tangible. Love is shared highs and lows, because we have a tendency to take the sunshine for granted if we've never stood in the rain. Love is personal growth, cooperation and sacrifice in one constantly changing little corner of reality you're trying to make into a cozy home for your soul. But because it's not neat, not pre-cast, not set, and directions vary, things don't always come out just right. And it those mistakes we make, those moments where we feel our hearts hang in the balance, that we come to regret.  

Far too often we are just living our lives and end up with love unexpectedly, stumbling across it like a root in the dark.  Unsure in our actions because life comes with opinions but not instructions, and instead of working to an understanding of who we are and sometimes afraid of what we want, we do things with grand intentions that in time we come to regret.  Our actions are the multitude. Maybe it's benign neglect. Maybe we overwork it. Or we expect magic because magic fills our dreams. And then when something goes awry, comes regret. 

Awry? We've all said something we regretted, or perhaps worse, left something unsaid until too late.  Made assumptions that we never took the time to correct. Set our expectations too high or too low.  Or we regret giving up too soon. Or staying too long. Holding too tight or letting things get out of hand. Giving too much or not putting enough effort. Sometimes the moments we regret are seemingly insignificant, and sometimes that moment looms over us blocking out the world. And there we stand in our pathway of life, filled with regret. 

But regret meant that the feelings that birthed them were real.  That the love was real. We need our regret.  It has the potential to teach us, if only because we don't want to return to feeling. This is why love has the capacity to make us better.  And while we hope to be able use that regret to perhaps strengthen the love we have, mostly regret is a lesson we take with us going forward should we find love again.
Ah, Sporty.
As I'm not young anymore, I possess regrets. Words unspoken mostly. A few assumptions that may have limited what I thought was possible. Hopefully... I've learned. 

So why am I bringing this up? Why is this worthy of the time for me to write it and you to read it? An essay on regret on Valentine's? Because maybe you still have time to heel your regrets. Rein them in before they run away with you. A chance to ...to say the thing unsaid, or realize you've stayed too long. To get back on the course to being in love. Because even though my moments aren't always the brightest, because I've been there I don't want anyone else to have to.go. 

Love begets regret. But then love is the parent of many things.

Sunday, February 12, 2017

In the Age of Trump

This is a political-ish post. 


I don't want to make this blog completely political. There are many other sites that can devote the research necessary on a daily basis for better reporting than I can with a few spare hours here and there. Although I do will occasionally want to make a point or clarify something that I don't think the general media is framing well, an all politics format is just too much of an energy expenditure right this moment.

Not that the idea isn't tempting.

I think the proper phrasing to describe the current situation for a writer like myself would use the term "goldmine," or might would include the allusion to "fish in barrel." The degree of snark alone could be measured on truck scales. The jokes practically write themselves. He told judges that he'd "see them in court." They're making up terror attacks and telling the women to dress sexy. Who is this guy?

I realize that every new administration has its moments where it is still finding it's feet, but a president more obsessed with the idea that everyone like him and less concerned with doing the doing the job we voted him into is scary.  It's like watching a train wreck that YOU ARE IN happen in slow motion. The sad part is the guy behind him is not only worse, he knows how to play the game.

If they would just stop pitching them right over the plate.

Tuesday, January 24, 2017

And then the Atlanta Falcons...

Ramblings Post #331
Let me say first that my team had a good run. And hopefully, the Cowboys will take this as a sign that great things are possible with that team. I blame the end of the Green Bay game on the coaching staff, who called for Dak to spike the ball on that last drive with about 40 seconds left when they should have run a play (possibly a nice sweep? Out of bounds and advance the ball). Now we just need to get through the off-season and free agency - pray for the secondary - and maybe I'll get a return of the 'Boys to Superbowl when it's in Atlanta. Whooo! 

I'm not a Falcon fan. I've lived in Atlanta for a while, but I'm not a fan. It's called loyalty to my actual team. But this year the Falcons are going to the Superbowl. The big game. Going for the whole enchilada. The city will be...well, I'll get to that, but in the end I'm still not even going to even pretend to be a Falcon fan. So I'm giving away my seat on the bandwagon. It's seat 30,486A. I don't know who is in 30,486B, sorry.

Outsiders don't know this, but some of the great annual parties of the year in Atlanta (in any circuit you travel) are in conjunction with the most watched sporting event in the America. In my youth I've attended as many as five different functions on game day alone, my youth in this case being my early-thirties. In fact, one of the first great parties I attended in Atlanta was for the game, and it was that party, in an unfinished basement holding a red solo cup that I knew I'd moved to the right town. Sigh. Since then I've been to parties for the game in spaces that probably weren't a thousand square feet, in halls and showrooms, and yet others at mansions with 100-inch projections screens on the lower level and 60 inches upstairs. Some games I've run into people I haven't seen in a decade and at others made new hang-out buddies. It's a feast, a party and good time.   

Now, generally we folks down here in the ATL find out who won on Sportscenter sometime around eleven (if the TV is still on) or later when you finally make it home. A typical party for the game includes a DJ during commercials, food that is gone by halftime, a full donation bar, lively conversations and catching up, and a brief pause for the halftime show if it's somebody good. There is dancing afterwards if you push the furniture back, and maybe even a little after game entertainment depending on the host. There may even be five or ten fans of one of the teams playing in attendance, Atlanta is a city of transplants after all, but the vast majority of the crowd usually turns out of the festivities, not the game itself.

Don't believe for a moment that they aren't serious.
This year however, people will actually be watching the game. As in paying attention to the play calling, down and distance, yelling at the screen, and cursing the refs. I'm going to get commentary about whose open, formations and shrieks of terror or joy depending on the action. People will be caring about who wins. People will be actual FANS. I am filled with dismay.

Even worse, the really cool folks are headed to Houston. Damn if they're gonna miss this. Ticket or no ticket, they just want to be close. I'm not sure if the NFL is ready for all that. This means the parties for those of use left behind might be half empty. Ugh.

I'm sorry my fellow good time revelers, the light-hearted bootleg holiday that is the Superbowl isn't coming this year.  At least not in Atlanta.

Houston bound.
Somewhere on February 5th, the game will be in the third quarter and people will not even notice. They'll might be enjoying a drink with friends, telling a ribald tale and sharing a laugh, or perhaps sneaking a glance to see if that attractive person they noticed earlier is looking their way. Wings and blue cheese, chips and dip, possibly a brawt or two will be consumed leisurely. Alas, I will not be there. Alas.

Bartender, something in a cup. With a lid. That seals. And make it strong.   

Friday, January 20, 2017

It Begins...


My favorite commentary on the incoming Administration...

After a long absence, The Twilight Zone returns with one of the most ambitious, expensive and controversial productions in broadcast history. Sci-fi writers have dabbled often with alternative history stories - among the most common is the “What If The Nazis Had Won The Second World War” setting - but this huge interactive virtual reality project, which will unfold on TV, in the press, and on Twitter over the next four years, sets out to build an ongoing alternative present.

The story begins in a nightmarish version of 2017 in which huge sections of the US electorate have somehow been duped into voting to make Donald Trump president. It sounds far-fetched, and it is, but as it goes on it becomes more and more chillingly plausible. Today’s feature-length opener concentrates on the gaudy inauguration of President Trump, and the stirrings of protest and despair surrounding the ceremony, while pundits speculate gravely on what lies ahead. It’s a flawed piece, but a disturbing glimpse of the horrors we could stumble into, if we’re not careful.


I would like to thank Scotland’s Sunday Herald Sunday TV critic Damien Love for this. I want to get it framed and put on my wall.

Thursday, January 19, 2017

Let me hear it one last time..

"We Out. Hey Joe, I know this spot got fish fresh off the grease..."

"My President is black, my Lambo is blue..."

It is a sad day.

As Sporty said, don't forget to set your clock back 350 years tonight.

It's always hard going back after a long vacation. You'd gotten used to silly things, things like a movement towards justice, concern about the environment, healthcare and human rights. Then back comes the UGH. In one fell swoop, it's like the world just went gray after you've gotten used to sunshine and hope and compassion. True it wasn't all great, there was always that undercurrent of problems you'd thought you'd left behind - of bad rhetoric and opposition, but you were on vacation. It didn't seem to matter as much. You even dreamed that the vacation might get extended. That you could potentially move and be on vacation forever.

But alas no. The UGH is back, and it seems like everything you left on your desk is still there, but now with all the stuff you missed while you were away. And it even seems like more stuff since they now realize you take vacations. The UGH. You'd almost thought it was going to be a distant memory.

That just means we need to start planning for our next vacation.

Thank you, President Barack Hussein Obama.

This is the part where somebody screams "TAKE ME WITH YOU"