Yucatan

I haven't checked Aint it Cool News yet, but I'm guessing this little item from the NYT made Harry Knowles piss his pants in anticipation (via Boing Boing):

When Steve McQueen died 25 years ago in Juarez, Mexico, he left behind two children, some 30 movies and a legacy as The King of Cool (the title of a documentary about him). He also left behind two custom-made trunks containing 16 leather-bound notebooks full of drawings, photographs from period magazines, and a detailed script continuity - a screenplay without dialogue - written in a kind of hyper-stylized poetry. These materials were his plans for Yucatan, the vanity project he yearned, but failed, to make.

A heist film and adventure epic, it would have married the sprawling canvas of films like The Great Escape and Papillon with the chase-scene histrionics of Bullitt (transferred to motorcycles, McQueen's lifelong passion) along with some ancient history and visionary science thrown in for good measure.

As Syndrome said in The Incredibles, "I'm still geeking out about it!"

But to bring it back down to earth for a moment, let's have a look at the picture that accompanies the article:

Listen, I'm one of the biggest fans of The Great Escape you're ever likely to meet, but this seems a little too cheesy for words even for me. I look at that and get flashbacks to Smokey and the Bandit II with Jerry Reed and his posse of twenty semi trucks storming across the desert.

But maybe they want to go for cheese. If so, then the question remains: Is that what McQueen would have wanted? Anybody who has special trunks built to hold over a dozen leather-bound volumes of work is obviously very serious about the material contained therein. Yet after reading over the few details they let slip in the article, I can't see it going any other way. It'll most likely turn out to be something like Sahara, only with a bit more brains and better actors (Truth be told: I haven't seen Sahara, but that is more due to the fact that I generally avoid Penelope Cruz at all cost).

To this end, in terms of straddling the bar between breathtaking epic and action film cheese, allow me to suggest Quentin Tarantino for the directing gig. He's proven with Kill Bill that he can do movies approaching an epic scope, and the history of this particular script just screams for his involvement. He can even hire some washed-up actor from the sixties or seventies to give the film an even more period feel.

Who knows? It could do McQueen proud.

Like a storm raging inside you ...

We're sorry to report that Mr. Mosley will not be able to come into the office today. The current fluctuating state of his bowels has been deemed not conducive to a pleasant workplace environment.

Thank you for your understanding.

Better health through love (and self love)

Great advances in medical research this week. And both stories are good news. Though one story appeared on a local evening newscast, complete with anchors getting all mushy about it ...

"Scientists have discovered that just 30 minutes of kissing can diminish the body’s allergic reaction to pollen."

... the other one, I'm guessing, will probably not get as much prime time play...

"Masturbating may protect against prostate cancer"

... at least, not in the United States.

"It's good to be here, It's good to be here, It's good to be here, Yeah It's good"

Anybody here remember Pat Paulsen?

He was a comedian whose main shtick was actually running for president and using his "campaign appearances" as opportunities to do his dimwitted politician routine. Believe it or not, he actually got quite a few people to write his name in on the ballot in 1968.

He became most famous during the sixties through his appearances on the Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour (for as long as the censors let that show run). When the Smothers Brothers briefly came back to television in the eighties, Pat came along too, and this was my first introduction to him.

My interest in them led me to track down old bits shown occasionally on TV Land. One filmed routine showed him on a series of airport tarmacs, talking to reporters after having just landed. In each one, he expresses how glad he is to be in (fill in the blank of the town he's now in) and how it's good to be with real Americans as opposed to those jokers in (fill in the blank of the town he just left).

This bit came to mind when I found a NYT article containing a series of quotations from Condoleeza Rice (Via BartCop):

"We have no better friend in meeting these challenges than our friends in Greece." 03/24/05

"We have no better friend than Italy and it is a great pleasure, Gianfranco, to have you here." 04/13/05

"The United States has no better friend than Australia..." 05/04/05

"We have no better friend than the United Kingdom, going back in many years." 05/17/05

"We have no better friend than Jordan, a good friend..." 06/19/05

"We have no better friend than Japan." 05/01/06

Damn, we sure are fickle with our best friends. I wonder who it will be next month? I got fifty bucks on Saudi Arabia!


(The post title is in honor of Maki's penchant for obscure song lyrics)

Submitted with minimal comment

A recent academic study:

U.S. psychologists say they've found that handling a gun creates a hormonal reaction in men that can prime them for aggression.

Gee, ya think!?!?


(Picture courtesy of Cold Fusion Video)


And to further elaborate on the themes of guys, guns and incredible stupidity (Via Blah3):

Some 200,000 guns the US sent to Iraqi security forces may have been smuggled to terrorists, it was feared yesterday.

The 99-tonne cache of AK47s was to have been secretly flown out from a US base in Bosnia. But the four planeloads of arms have vanished.

Orders for the deal to go ahead were given by the US Department of Defense. But the work was contracted out via a complex web of private arms traders.

And the Moldovan airline used to transport the shipment was blasted by the UN in 2003 for smuggling arms to Liberia, human rights group Amnesty has discovered.

It follows a separate probe claiming that thousands of guns meant for Iraq's police and army instead went to al-Qaeda.

Dumbasses.

Be sure to pack the Dramamine

A new way to blast off (Via Boing Boing):

All space projects get into orbit pretty much the same way – by burning lots of rocket fuel, a spaceship powers itself past the sky. NASA and the Army Research Lab have another idea: "Slingatron," a giant, hypervelocity, rapid-fire slingshot. The machine would spin a projectile faster and faster through a spiral-shaped tube, building up increasing amounts of centripetal force along the way – just like a discus-thrower, spinning himself around before a toss, or like a latter-day King David, winding up his weapon before he whacks Goliath.

Forget friggin Ipod's. When stuff like this starts getting built and used, then I'll be satisfied that I'm living in the 21st century!

...And another thing: Where the hell is my flying car?!?!?