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I noticed a couple of funny things in the course of my latest viewing of The Fellowship of the Ring last night, both during the Moria sequence.

:: Remember the famous Far Side cartoon, in which a student is attempting to enter the Midvale School for the Gifted by pushing on the front door, even though the door is clearly marked “Pull”? Well, one of the things Gandalf does when he’s trying to open the Doors of Durin is to push on them with his shoulder…but when Frodo figures out the riddle and the doors open, they swing outward.

:: In Balin’s tomb, when Gandalf is reading the last entry in the journal kept by the dwarves before their deaths, we get a glimpse of the very last line, in which the dwarven runes trail off in an angle scrawl across the bottom of the page. I’m sorry, but this put me immediately in mind of Monty Python and the Holy Grail: “The Castle Arrrgggghhhhh…he must have died while carving it!”

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You know what I love? I love when it’s the middle of August and, even though we haven’t had anywhere near as hot and humid a summer as we’ve been known to have (and Buffalo summers aren’t nearly as hot and humid, as a rule, as those you’ll find in cities closer to the Atlantic), Canada will look down on us from her lonely perch in the north and say, “You folks could use a bit of arctic air.” That little kiss of Canadian chill, which in January or February threatens to freeze us to the marrow, is the most refreshing thing possible when it comes in August.

Thanks, Canada.

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Is John Stossel — that guy on ABC’s 20-20 — an obnoxious doofus or what? In his always provocative segment entitled “Give Me A Break!” the other night, he indignantly complained about — gasp! — the fact that movie studios, when doing publicity for movies everybody hates, will selectively quote from bad reviews to make them sound like raves, and they will use actual raves by little-known pseudo-critics who write gushing praise about every movie they see. And lest anyone think maybe they were simply re-running an old Stossel piece, all of the films featured are current or very recent releases, like Gigli and Alex and Emma.

I wonder if next week Mr. Stossel might do a “Give Me A Break!” piece on, say, the old practice in Radio Shack where the clerks would ask for your address if you were just buying a three-foot piece of video cord. Or maybe he’ll get angry about those unlawfully-removed mattress tags.

POST-SCRIPT: I actually wrote this post, as I am occasionally likely to do, on Friday night. (Sometimes I like to write posts in MSWord and then cut-and-paste them into the blog at a later time.) In between then and my actual posting it here, Jesse of Pandagon commented on the same Stossel feature. Weird. But Stossel’s still a doofus.

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Over on 2Blowhards, there are a couple of items of interest to me as a Buffalonian. The items aren’t specifically about Buffalo per se, but they do touch on a few issues of ongoing interest in this former rust-belt city that has had more trouble than just about any of its other brethren in moving beyond the hangover caused by the decay of local manufacturing, the concurrent population loss, and the mistakes that most cities have made over the last few decades.

First, one of the Blowhards speaks out against Frank Lloyd Wright. Buffalo is the home to one of Wright’s masterpieces, the Darwin Martin House, which I’ve written about before. The Martin House is a current object of a big restoration effort, and it is generally held to be one of the very finest of Buffalo’s buildings in a city where architecture is a big thing. I’m not sure I agree (or even if I know enough to really form an opinion, having never actually set foot inside a Wright building) but their take on Wright is pretty interesting. I never knew that Wright had something of a mania for low ceilings, and in the course of doing a little online research on Wright, I found that when he designed his famous Guggenheim Museum in New York City, and when museum officials pointed out that his ceilings would not allow clearance for some of the paintings, his response was: “Cut them in half.” Referring to the paintings. Wright, apparently, was something of an ass. (Which partly explains my negative reaction to Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead: Howard Roark, who was if I am not mistaken based on Wright, is supposed to be admired for his refusal to buckle under, and yet all I kept thinking as I read the book was, “Geez, this guy is an ass.”)

Second, the Blowhards did an absolutely fascinating two-part interview (part one, part two) with David Sucher, a writer and blogger whose main interest is in what he calls City Comforts: architecture, but as a function of how it serves the neighborhoods in which it occurs. There is a lot of fascinating stuff in this interview, and I plan to spend some time investigating Sucher’s work and blog in the future. I’ve already requested his book from the library. (Gods, I don’t ever want to live in a place where I cannot take advantage of a large metropolitan library system!)

One thing that immediately struck me is Sucher’s suggestion that all those mini-strips that seem to be popping up everywhere, especially in sprawled-out areas like Buffalo where new construction keeps going on out in the fringes while older, inner neighborhoods crumble and die, should at least be built right out to the sidewalk, with parking in the rear. As I drive through Buffalo’s suburbs, there are parking lots upon parking lots upon parking lots. Parking lots everywhere, with mini-strips and plazas and malls or whatever set back, way back, from the street. So pervasive has the sprawl become, and to such a degree have we conceded to the car and marginalized the pedestrian, that a lot of these wide streets do not even have sidewalks.

Sucher also has a blunt, practical attitude that is fairly refreshing in the face of all the bizarro “newspeak” that so often seems to be de rigeur for urban-planning types. Sucher doesn’t hate suburbs, he doesn’t hold them in disdain, and he simply says, “We can tear down the buildings if we need to.” This is certainly true. Modern construction isn’t like the building of a medieval cathedral, when a cornerstone would be laid in the year 1150 and then construction would finally end in 1325. We put buildings up in months these days.

Buffalo has a lot of problems, many of which are related to failed urban planning. I look forward to seeing if some of Sucher’s ideas are applicable.

(EDIT: I replaced my original link to Mr. Sucher’s blog with the up-to-date one.)

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Via MeFi here is an interesting (I think) annotation of a scene from The Matrix Reloaded, in which Neo talks to someone called the Architect. I haven’t seen the movie yet — The Matrix is, for me, a wait-for-video venture — but this scene, although it sounds a bit spoilerish, didn’t spoil much for me at all. At least, I don’t think it did. It’s a lot of the “You don’t understand your true nature” stuff that filled the first movie. But fans might find the annotations interesting.

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I’m torn as to how to mock this story, so I’ll just toss up a couple of alternatives and let you all choose the one that tickles your fancy.

1. “Based on the event currently scheduled for September 13, I think that folks living in the vicinity of Neverland may want to watch the skies for the mothership to show up on September 14 and spirit Mr. Jackson back home.”

2. “In a related item, judges in the county where Neverland resides are already preparing the forms in advance for restraining orders, names to be filled in later.”

3. “When told that some of the proceeds are expected to be donated to his gubernatorial campaign, actor and candidate Arnold Schwarzenegger is said to have screamed, ‘No! No! Anything but that! What’s he trying to do, kill me?!’ National GOP overlord Karl Rove, though, speculated that Mr. Jackson is a secret French agent whose mission to disavow America has gone seriously awry.”

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Embrace the Geekiness:

:: Observing my daughters third viewing of The Wizard of Oz this week, I was struck by one of the Wicked Witch’s lines as she’s in the process of expiring. Yeah, she whines “I’m melting!” over and over, but then she says something like, “Oh, who would have thought that a miserable girl like you could destroy my beautiful wickedness!” And, being the Star Wars geek that I am, I immediately wondered: if we were to replace the Emperor’s shriek as he plummets down the reactor shaft at the end of Return of the Jedi with a similar line, what would it be?

“You were a runny-nosed teenager before I took you in!”

“I got you a girlfriend and gave you my biggest Star Destroyer!”

“They promised me that turning to the Dark Side was permanent!”

“Who could have thought the pod-racing runt that Qui Gon found would be the one to destroy my plans!”

Any other suggestions, folks?

:: Over on Tosy and Cosh (wasn’t that a movie starring Fred Dryer and a German shepherd?) John wonders what the final image of Episode III will be, given that the final images of TPM and AOTC mirrored to a small degree the final images of ANH and TESB.

I don’t know how Lucas could mirror that final gathering of the heroes smiling in ROTJ. The most often-suggested final image for Episode III I’ve seen, in various forums, is for Obi Wan to turn over baby Luke to Owen Lars and then wander off into the Tatooine wastes. Personally, assuming that Padme dies in the film, I think it would be interesting to see the newly-minted Darth Vader visiting her grave. That would plant a few of the seeds for Anakin’s eventual return to the Good Side.

:: A few days ago, my wife and I watched Mission: Impossible!, which is a favorite movie of ours. (Yeah, we still like Tom Cruise. Sue us.) Anyway, I just want to note what is one of my favorite villain’s lines ever in a movie. At the end, when Ethan Hunt explains to Mr. Phelps how the Bible that Phelps had boosted from a hotel was the clue Hunt needed to figure out that Phelps was behind everything, Mr. Phelps says: “They stamped it, didn’t they? Those damn Gideons.” For some reason, that line always cracks me up.

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Watching the fourth quarter of a preseason tilt between the Steelers and the Greatest Force for Evil In The Western World (the Cowboys), I’m suddenly wondering: how do the commentators on the network football broadcasts manage to maintain any interest in doing play-by-play and color commentary on the exploits of guys whose NFL careers are, in all likelihood, within fourteen days of ending? I watch these sixth and seventh-round picks going all-out, desperately trying to make the team, and all I can think of is that episode of The Simpsons where Homer takes over the Pee-Wee football team.

“And now for the easiest job a coach has…the cuts!”

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