My Cats Are More Musically Inclined than Your Kid.

Hey, It's That Guy!

24, Day 7, 8:00am-9:00am edition

Ok, so while watching the season premiere of 24, I experienced the biggest case of "Hey, it's that guy" syndrome I had since watching The Storyteller. You know, where you seem to recognize all the actors, even though you can't name any of them.

Of course "Hey, it's that guy"-ness is very subjective, so my accounts of near-recognition of actors may differ from yours, but following is a synopsis of the season premiere of 24.

***

We open with Dr. Phlox from Star Trek Enterprise driving his daughter to school. This is 24, so by contractual requirement, he is ABDUCTED BY TERRORISTS.

Meanwhile, Jack Bauer, the MOST BADASS MAN ALIVE, is sitting before the Senate Committee for Wasting Taxpayer Dollars, and being questioned by the dad from That 70's Show, who you may also remember is the President of the Federation. Jack Bauer argues that THE ENDS JUSTIFY THE MEANS, and that he can do what he wants because he is so badass (which he is, as are all heroes named "Jack").

The committee is interrupted by an FBI agent who arrives with a subpoena to bring in Jack. This is on Fox, so by contractual requirement, she is hot. Also, her first credited role was a bit part on Enterprise. Jack is taken without a reason given, but the senator/dad/president/guy who messes up the timeline tells Jack that he must be back by tomorrow morning, just 24 hours later. Jack quips "haha, the season will be over by then" before leaving.

Meanwhile, at the FBI office, a woman who road a motorcycle off a space-station into a Tyrannosaur-infested volcano (and is also a decent bowler) explains, for the benefit of the audience, that, in what must be the MOST IDIOTIC I.T. DECISION EVER, Dr. Phlox wrote the firewall used for every government network in existence. All computer geeks watching the show simultaneously suffer PLOT-STUPIDITY-INDUCED BRAIN ANEURYSMS.

Cut to the bad guys, who have a severly-beaten Dr. Phlox. He has, in the FIFTEEN MINUTES SINCE THEY ABDUCTED HIM, managed to construct a device that will DISRUPT ANY GOVERNMENT COMPUTER IN EXISTENCE. We see that the head henchman is the guy who captured Vin Diesel and took him to that awesome planet.

Back at the FBI, the hot FBI agent explains to Jack that Tony Almeida is STILL ALIVE, and that while Jack is dying, Tony will be STILL ALIVE, and that when Jack is dead, he will be STILL ALIVE. Jack does not believe it, mostly because as a badass named "Jack", he cannot be killed.

Cut back to the bad guys, and we see that Tony is, in fact, STILL ALIVE. He threatens Dr. Phlox when the disgronificator does not work properly.

Now, we meet the President of the US who, as it turns out, is Matt Damon's con-artist mother. She also got to investigate Crop Circles with Mel Gibson, and run a Village with William Hurt. She is considering the potentially unpopular action of sending troops in to the fictional AFRICAN COUNTRY OF FICTIONALISTAN, which is being terrorized by a warlord who threatened San Francisco with VX nerve gas, only to be thwarted by Sean Connery and Nicolas Cage (although he has done many, many other things including leading a feared race of Jaffa, saving Alyx Vance, been Worf's younger brother, turned Voyager's holodeck into a hunting game, and killed himself as an old man, so his father, Benjamin Sisko, would return to the time he was zapped by the warp core (that last one is obscure; don't even pretend you get it)). Since she is a woman, probably a Hillary allegory, the producers are allowed to portray a potentially unpopular conflict without a sneer at PRESIDENT GEORGE W. BUSH. Her husband is the Lord Marshal of the Necromonger armies, who was also the president of the colonies before they were wiped out by the Cylons.

Back to the Bad Guys, Dr. Phlox fixes his doohickey and Tony, who is doing science and STILL ALIVE, uses it to take control of the FAA systems and GIVE BAD DIRECTIONS TO PILOTS. We see the reaction from the FAA, which is run by Tim Allen's brother.

Back to the president, she is informed by SSgt. William "Wild Bill" Guarnere, who you may also remember as the ex-husband of Sharona Fleming, Mr. Monk's former assistant, what is going on at the FAA. She ponders if it may be related to her forthcoming decision to wage war on a Klingon-Jaffa who took over Alcatraz.

Meanwhile Jack Bauer, who is a badass because his name is "Jack", is helping the FBI by looking through files, and notices the name of a contact of his and Tony's. He convinces the hot agent to go with him to check out the lead, who is CONVENIENTLY IN WASHINGTON DC, within 5 minutes of the FBI, during rushhour traffic. They arrive at the contact's apartment. It turnes out that the contact is none other than Cicero, General Maximus' servant, whose plight of having his bride abducted on their wedding night, you may remember, inspired Mel Gibson to declare war on the King of England.

Jack and Hot Agent talk with Cicero. Jack is able to restrain himself for THIRTY WHOLE SECONDS before resorting to violence. Cicero is about to talk when he is shot by a sniper. Tony calls Cicero's phone, Jack answers, and hear's Tony's voice on the other end, saying that he's STILL ALIVE, STILL ALIVE, STILL—ok, I'm done with that joke.

At this point the author STOPPED PAYING ATTENTION, and FORGOT WHY HE PERIODICALLY TYPES ENTIRE PHRASES IN CAPITAL LETTERS, but NOW SEEMS LIKE A GOOD TIME TO DO IT, ANYWAYS.

Change We Can All Believe In.

That is, so long as you agree with the use of taxpayer money to fund foriegn abortions. What a brilliant, wonderful use of public funds during a recession.

As this commentor from John C. Wright's blog mentions, "I like to point out that now, you will get thrown in jail if you don't want to pay money to kill foreign children."

Let it be known that now and forever more, the argument of the pro-choice crowd that pro-lifers try to force their beliefs on others while they, taking the moral high ground, do no such thing, is now nothing but a bald-faced lie. You are now required to pay to abort children, even if you find the procedure a gross violation of your morals and ethics.

Also, this video was brilliant.

I'd like to share this picture of the Great Pyramid that my co-worker, Devin, took on her honeymoon to Italiagreekturkegypt.

Look familiar?

She denies any involvement with a secret government organization that explores other worlds by using a device called a "stargate" that creates a stable wormhole suitable for interstellar travel. But I know better. The honeymoon was just a ruse. She spent the three weeks on P3X-495.

Homework, week 1.

So, I decided to ignore all of your advice and went with a sligthly modified version of paragraph #1. Screw you people.

Here's what I finally submitted.

“Hold course. Steady as she goes,” the captain barked. He looked intently through the view port of his fluyt. To avoid attention from the authorities, they were staying away from the main shipping lanes, but that meant during this leg of their journey they'd be traveling particularly close to a region of the asteroid belt notorious for pirate activity. This was going to be his least favorite part of the cargo run.

It was generally well received by the class, even though no one knew what a "fluyt" was. I had to explain that it was 16th century Dutch cargo vessel, and I was trying to evoke the feeling of the age of sail in space, so I used ship classifications from the 16th through 18th centuries. The instructor said that it was fine if I used obscure terms from time to time, and that I should keep it to add flavor.

In addition to that, we had to list the name, age, two positive and two negative traits, and three or four quirks of our focal character. The instructor explained that "traits" are those behaviors that we can't see, but quirks are what we can. Here's what I submitted:

Jack Flint, age 30

Traits:

-Chivalrous
-Perseverance
-Pessimist/Realist
-Contradictory sense of morality

Quirks:

-Strokes his goatee when thinking
-Says “me” instead of “my”, “be” instead of “is”, and other pirate-isms
-Insists he's a privateer, not a pirate

Lastly, we had to bring a picture of our focal character. The instructor indicated that we should look through magazines and such, but I brought a picture I had made about a year ago using UGO's Hero Machine. The instructor thought it was terrific.

Maybe later I'll post the picture I made of Regina.

Since everyone seemed to like the fourth option so much (the first paragraph of Episode II), I'll go ahead and post the rest of that section, from the first chapter. I think Dave will get a kick out of it. (Keep in mind, this is rough-draft and has not yet been edited.)

The Marine on duty lazily flipped the coin and watched as it bounced off the ceiling of the guard shack and gently floated back down, pulled by the weak Rhean gravity. He caught it in one hand and slapped it onto the sleeve of his extra-vehicular suit. He looked down at the engraved image of President Ronald Reagan staring back up at him. That was the tenth heads in a row, and brought the total to three hundred fourteen heads and two hundred seventy-one tails. It was a slow day. 

He briefly looked up. Saturn loomed large in the pre-dawn sky. It hung there in the same spot, day in and day out. Currently, it was about half-full, being last quarter, and would be "new"—a thin, bright crescent—sometime late the next night. Well, night universal time. It would be just after noon, local time, in Rhea's four-and-a-half day rotation. 

Thinking about it made the Marine's head spin. It was one more thing he hated about this God-forsaken moon. Rhea was about as boring as a ball of ice and rock could be. Most of the interesting places in the Saturnian system were either farther out, such as on Titan—home to some of the largest cities off of Earth, and where the vast majority of the solar system's hydrocarbon mining took place—or farther in, on Mimas or Enceladus, which housed the hydrogen refineries where the skimmer ships would take their gaseous cargo after skimming it off the upper-most layers of Saturn's atmosphere. Rhea, by comparison, was the middle of nowhere, which was exactly why he was there. There wasn't much point to building a super top-secret and high-security special weapons laboratory on one of the busiest moons in the solar system. And as long as the US government needed super top-secret and high-security weapons labs, they needed Marines to guard them. 

"Heads up," the Marine heard through his two-way. He looked up at his partner, standing just outside the guard shack. He was pointing towards a small, open-top vehicle approaching from the direction of the spaceport. The Marine stepped out of the guard shack and held up his hand, signaling the vehicle to stop. The vehicle slowly decelerated and came to a halt just in front of the gate. There were three people in it. The driver looked to be about thirty years old and had black hair and a devilish looking goatee. Seated to his right in the front passenger's seat was a very tall dark-skinned man with a thin face. Behind the two of them, in the back seat, was a very young looking man with messy, sandy blond hair. 

"Name and purpose of visit," the Marine demanded into his two-way on a commonly-used communications frequency. 

The Marine could tell by looking through the visors of the EV suits of the vehicle's passengers that the driver was the one responding. "I'm escorting Doctor Gordon Frohman, here on business to see Doctor Kleiner."

 

"Can I see a government-issued photo ID, Doctor Freeman?" the Marine asked. 

"Frohman," the young man in the back seat corrected as he produced an ID card, which he handed to the Marine. The Marine took it and inspected it. He returned to the guard shack and checked the schedules. There was an entry that a Doctor G. Freeman would be coming to see Doctor Kleiner, but no mention of a Doctor Frohman. It was probably just a typo on the schedule, but the Marine still felt it necessary to call it in. 

He touched a control on his suit that set his two-way to use the base's secure frequency. "This is Corporal Calhoun, at the main gate. I need to speak with Doctor Kleiner." 

"One moment," came the reply from the base communications officer. 

The Marine waited for about fifteen more seconds before another voice came over his two-way. "Doctor Kleiner here." 

"Hello, Doctor Kleiner, this is Corporal Calhoun at the main gate. I have a Doctor Gordon Frohman here to see you. Are you expecting someone by that name?" 

"Yes, absolutely. He should be on the schedule. I made sure to let base security know he was coming." 

"Thank you, Doctor. The schedule lists a Doctor Freeman. I figured it was an error but wanted to confirm with you first." 

"That's not right," said the voice at the other end, sounding very annoyed. "I don't know any Doctor Freeman. Why would I have said a Doctor Freeman was coming when I don't know one?"

 

"Sorry to disturb you, Doctor. I'll send him right in." 

"Thank you, Corporal. It will be exciting to see Doctor Frohman again. It's been twenty years since I last saw him, at graduate school." 

The Marine had already been moving to press the end transmission switch, and his mind was further slowed by the sheer boredom of the day and the fact that so many of his brain cells had already been lost to counting coin flips, so that he had already ended the call to the doctor before he had fully comprehended his last sentence. Twenty years? He looked down at the ID card, still in his hands. It listed a birth date of March 14th, 2157. Twenty years, indeed. He didn't think too many universities were in the business of conferring doctorates on toddlers. He began to reach for his assault rifle when he felt a sharp prick in his arm, followed by a sudden and overwhelming feeling of drowsiness. He tried to fight it, at least long enough to lie down on the floor, but gave way very quickly to the desire to take a nap right then and there.

Last one, I promise.

But let's end on a positive note.

God Bless George W. Bush

It is fitting that he, whose first act in office was to block federal funding to foreign groups promoting abortion, left us with this as one of his last.  As Joe mentioned elsewhere, it will certainly be the last one for a while.

A Proclamation by the President of the United States of America

All human life is a gift from our Creator that is sacred, unique, and worthy of protection. On National Sanctity of Human Life Day, our country recognizes that each person, including every person waiting to be born, has a special place and purpose in this world. We also underscore our dedication to heeding this message of conscience by speaking up for the weak and voiceless among us.

The most basic duty of government is to protect the life of the innocent. My Administration has been committed to building a culture of life by vigorously promoting adoption and parental notification laws, opposing Federal funding for abortions overseas, encouraging teen abstinence, and funding crisis pregnancy programs. In 2002, I was honored to sign into law the Born-Alive Infants Protection Act, which extends legal protection to children who survive an abortion attempt. I signed legislation in 2003 to ban the cruel practice of partial-birth abortion, and that law represents our commitment to building a culture of life in America. Also, I was proud to sign the Unborn Victims of Violence Act of 2004, which allows authorities to charge a person who causes death or injury to a child in the womb with a separate offense in addition to any charges relating to the mother.

America is a caring Nation, and our values should guide us as we harness the gifts of science. In our zeal for new treatments and cures, we must never abandon our fundamental morals. We can achieve the great breakthroughs we all seek with reverence for the gift of life.

The sanctity of life is written in the hearts of all men and women. On this day and throughout the year, we aspire to build a society in which every child is welcome in life and protected in law. We also encourage more of our fellow Americans to join our just and noble cause. History tells us that with a cause rooted in our deepest principles and appealing to the best instincts of our citizens, we will prevail.

NOW, THEREFORE, I, GEORGE W. BUSH, President of the United States of America, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the Constitution and laws of the United States, do hereby proclaim January 18, 2009, as National Sanctity of Human Life Day. I call upon all Americans to recognize this day with appropriate ceremonies and to underscore our commitment to respecting and protecting the life and dignity of every human being.

IN WITNESS WHEREOF, I have hereunto set my hand this fifteenth day of January, in the year of our Lord two thousand nine, and of the Independence of the United States of America the two hundred and thirty-third.

GEORGE W. BUSH

More info about this tradition instituted by President Ronald Reagan can be found here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/National_Sanctity_of_Human_Life_Day.  Rapidly deleted from the White House website after President Obama took office, it can now be found here: http://www.presidency.ucsb.edu/ws/index.php?pid=85644.