Pie, Two Movies, and Lightning

This was one of those rare weekends that felt longer than it was. In a good way.

Friday saw me heading out of the office as quickly as possible. I got home with JUST enough time to finish a slab pie I'd started a couple days before. The filling and dough was done, it just had to be rolled out, combined, and baked. Oh, and the filling involved 2 cups of sour cherries, 2 cups of bing cherries, and two cups (total) of wild Nova Scotia blueberries and frozen Ontario strawberries that I'd picked earlier in the summer.

It's pretty delicious.

Why the time limit? I had a movie to go see - GI Joe.

Yup, GI Joe: The Rise of Cobra, on opening night. Why? Well, if you have to ask, you didn't sit 3ft in front of your TV after school waiting for that theme song in your youth.

I went in properly prepared. My brain was sitting in a jar back home. I wanted two things - red and blue lasers, and someone to say "Yo Joe!". Both wishes were fulfilled.

I suggested to my friends at dinner beforehand that the movie would be awesome. It wouldn't be a GOOD movie by any stretch, but it would be awesome.

And it was. I ignored anything like dialogue, editing, physics, or reality, and enjoyed two hours of straight up action and ass-kicking. It was an EXCELLENT GI Joe movie. Any critic who calls it crap was already old when the cartoons were on. Their GI Joe memories are of 9" tall solider dolls, not 5" action figures whose torsos you twisted until they popped off. Sommers did exactly what was needed - he made a popcorn flick that was nothing but FUN. Plot getting in the way of the movie? Throw in a ninja fight. Just had a ninja fight? More cleavage. The ninjas were fighting in front of cleavage? Time to blow some shit up. Ninjas were fighting in front of cleavage during an explosion? Blow up a polar ice cap, or melt a landmark.

And there is no doubt a sequel is being made.

I tire of those who hold their 80's television memories as sacrosanct - go and find some video of those shows. They were, almost universally, TERRIBLE. To expect a movie based on them to be a work of art is ridiculous.

Early to bed (3am-ish) and early to rise (3pm-ish) makes a man... well, very well-rested. 3pm was about as late as I COULD stay in bed, as a buddy was coming over at 6 to grab some dinner and catch another movie. This time? The Hangover. Yah, I'm late to the game on this one, but... DAMN is that one funny movie.

I fired off the e-mail on Friday to my usual December Vegas posse (or entourage, or what have you) about getting this year's trip ready. Seeing the start of Vegas in The Hangover had me turn to my friend and say "I want to go NOW." By the end of the movie, E was a bit afraid I'd developed a few new ideas for this year's trip. He's so ending up in the hands of Asian gangsters.

Another early night (3am) led to another early day (12:45pm due to a phone call). Sunday was chill. Hung out, played poker, watched TV, made dinner.

And watched one hell of a lightning storm.

I had originally been awaken around 10:30am by room-shaking bursts of thunder. I fell back asleep, and when I was up for real, the day looked fine. By the time I was making dinner, the skies were alight again. Flashes in the periphery followed by the sound of the sky cracking open. Another truly monumental summer storm was upon us. Regular breaks from pizza assembly were taken to try and catch a fork in the distance between the surrounding buildings. It started to die down, and dinner was completed and consumed.

Then it started up again. To the roof! In my bare feet! Why? Well, I figured the wet roof of a 15 storey building with no insulator between me and ground had to be the safest method of watching lightning. An umbrella was brought too, for extra safety.

None of that is a lie, except for the part where I actually thought ANY of that was remotely safe.

As soon as I set foot on the roof, a bolt shot off in the distance, sparking a series of other streaks spiderwebbing across the sky above. It was possibly the coolest lightning display I'd ever seen.

And it happened half a dozen more times over the next 20 minutes.

The sky didn't stop lighting up. It was as if the country surrounding my city was being bombed while a war with electricity was being fought overhead. The nearly complete lack of rain only added to this effect. To witness such a violent storm without getting wet was an oddity to me.

Convinced the storm was too far to take advantage of the world's tallest free-standing lightning rod, I kept following where the flashes were.

Then the tree of electricity opened up over south end of the city, with a branch deciding it needed to arc down and nail the beloved tower. For seconds afterwards, the sky was scattered with the after-image of lightning forks as my eyes adjusted to the blinding white that had just taken place less than a mile away, and less than a mile up. The fact this was also the first clap of thunder that had been made during the roof foray drove home the point that the storm wasn't quite gone yet.

The sky continued to sputter and spark silently, and I continued to be captivated. After the Tower bolt, I was also constantly checking the hairs on my arms to make sure I wasn't about to be struck myself. In the distance, likely the steel mills of Hamilton, bolts were raining down as if Zeus had decided that he was on the side of the NHL owners and was going to destroy the city himself. Streaks yellowed by the smog and clouds would strike and remain for what seemed like seconds before disappearing. To the south, St. Catherine's, Niagara Falls, and Buffalo looked like they were getting bombarded with white fire.

Eventually, it started to fade. The streaks and forks became fewer, replaced only with flashes and sheets of brightness in the distance. It was time to return to the far less exciting world of my living room, and call it a weekend.

May I suggest you visit here for an idea of the view. He's a little bit east of me, so it's not a dissimilar view. And this was a regular occurence during my time on the roof. I only wish I'd have grabbed my tripod and camera too.

Banks Have Brick Walls, Right?

At least then people will have something to talk to and bang their heads against.

The "Bad Bank" idea is gaining all kinds of traction these days. The whispers of nationalization are also starting to get louder, this time not from the people, but the government itself. Geithner even brought it up as possibily an inevitable need for a short term. Like the government ever lets anything go once they get it and the wrong people figure out how to use it for political gain.

I'm pretty much on record that what should be done is nothing. The $2 trillion this could end up costing (and counting) could be better spent building a solid social safety net for all those who would be affected by the monumental collapse that the government keeps stretching out.

Let's look at the $1.5 trillion in "stimulus" packages so far - that's $5000 for every man, woman, and child in the US. If the government had simply handed $5000 to everyone, they'd either (a) spend it on something, stimulating the economy or (b) put it in the bank, stabalizing their balance sheets. Sure, some would just put it in a box, but that would be minor. Instead, the plans continue to try and socialize the losses and fuckups of large corporations, while privatizing gains and hiding the real numbers since there's zero accountability. Yes, I realize giving everyone $5000 is overly simplistic, but it would have had more of an effect than what's been seen so far, or will be seen.

What if the Fed/Treasury/etc. get their wet dream and the banks start lending again? Is there some idea that they'd lend anywhere near what they did before? I mean, banks ARE lending money still, that's their job. The "problem" is that they're only lending to people with good credit now, and people with good credit aren't borrowing, because they're fiscally responsible and don't NEED to go into debt. If the banks loosen their standards, it would be only slightly. The unemployed twat who can't save $20 let alone $20,000 won't be getting a mortgage ever again. The entrepreneur who has a boneheaded idea that lacks a viable market won't get business loans. In short, credit worthiness and viable business plans will once again be required to put yourself in debt. Banks want to have safety again, and they aren't going to throw money away just because the government asks. In short, all this "stimulating" won't actually make much of a dent, even if the banks DO "start" lending again.

Unless the government takes them over. Citibank of America, a federal corporation, anyone?

H2O

We are a naturally water-loving species. We require it to survive at every level. We spend the first 9 months of our existence floating in fluid. Babies take to water like fish. The majority of the world's population lives near a source of water. Our noses are shaped the way they are to help prevent water from entering them when we're swimming. At the end of a long day people soak naked in water. When we wake up, we turn a spigot and cover our uncovered selves with it. We swim in pools, lakes, rivers, and oceans... some of which are filthy. Was there any summer activity more fun as a child than running through the sprinkler, sliding down a slip 'n slide, or tossing water baloons at your friends who were shooting you with water guns?

So why is it that when it starts to fall from the sky people COWER IN FEAR?? Why does the smallest shower of rain cause hundreds of umbrellas to open? Mothers to bundle up their children? People huddle under small rooftops and awnings to avoid this apparently deadly poison from the heavens.

I don't like getting soaked in the rain either, but there's a difference between a downpour and a sprinkle. Today on my 1 minute walk from condo to subway, I had to dodge a parade of umbrellas and slide around crowds of people bundling up and raising newspapers over their heads to avoid the PATHETIC LITTLE SHOWER of rain that was coming down. It was quite sad. One father running up the steps with a newspaper over his head while his wife made sure their children had their hoods up, hats on, and umbrellas ready. Seriously, it was a barely noticeable amount of precipitation.

One of my favourite stories is about the time I was in Rome. My family and I were walking around, looking at the regular tourist sites. Rome is very crowded. We got to the Spanish Steps, and they were covered in people. Getting a picture was next to impossible due to the fact that crowds were regularly walking in front of you, tour groups would stop in your field of view, and people are generally asshats. Then it started to rain. On cue, everyone ran under the nearest awnings they could find. Umbrella salesmen appeared from nowhere (I'm serious) offering their wares. Crammed under a stretched out of piece of cloth, I realized that this was nothing more than a slightly heavy summer shower. I stepped out into the rain, to the disbelief of the crowds. I threw out my arms and laughed, strolled casually in front of the now empty steps and the barren square in front of them, and took my pictures. The Spanish Steps, devoid of humanity, and me with all the time in the world to enjoy it. Why? Because little droplets of water were falling from the firmament.

People are pathetic.