Dark Knight Rises Blah Blah Blah

Do not read this. There are spoilers and I am spoiling the whole thing. I am not being snowed by hype and hoopla of how AWESOME 'Dark Knight' is.

Go ahead, click back to where you came...

I'll wait.

Ok.

Yes, it's cool looking. The effects are amazing. Bain's mask is neat. Catwoman is hot. And how about that Bat-cycle?!

Bam! Pow! Zowie!

First let me say that I am NOT a comic book nerd. I have nothing against comic book nerds, I am just not one. I don't know when Batman was first published and what in society's timeline it was reflecting. I don't know Bruce Wayne's blood type or what his dad did for a living. I know the Joker, Riddler, and Penguin. Oh, and the Boy Wonder.

That's my disclaimer. I'm coming to this movie clean. Although, I have to say the last one was pretty good, but made great because of Heath Ledger. Stellar performance there. Stellar. Made Jack Nicholson look silly...

But let's move on. Let's start with Bane.

Who the fuck is Bane?

Bane?

Ok, ok, he's one of many villains who pop up from out of nowhere and into Gotham. Let's just accept that. Gotham, which seemed like it was Chicago, but now seems like New York, is all about costumed psychopaths. Fine.

Bane was apparently born in prison and then he studied under Ra's al Ghul - who all of sudden appears as a Qui-Gon Jinn vision in Bruce Wayne's prison cell... which is where exactly? Isn't it in some Southeast Asian desert? What world is this? This isn't 'Game of Thrones'.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves.

We start with a plane jacking. Cool. Very 007. Then we're introduced to Bruce Wayne as Howard Hughes. Catwoman makes her appearance. Miranda Tate is apparently someone. Then Bane and his thugs storm into the stock market, guns pop pop popping.

THIS SCENE IS TERRIFYING BECAUSE OF AURORA. And it makes me sort of sick to see the violence being celebrated here in the movie theater now where it was devastating in another theater just a few days ago.

#TooSoon.

The stock market scene, by the way, is also a bit too 'on the nose' for me. Yes, we all hate those fat cats on Wall Street.

Yup.

I get it.

We meet Blake - a cop who seems to know from his own orphan experience that Bruce Wayne is Batman. Well, ok then. Good detecting, detective. We also meet Foley - the chief of police who's character has a dimension of 1. (Really, Nolan brothers? That's all you have for Mathew Modine? Fine.)

Now Bane begins destroying Gotham by blasting the bridges and buildings, and burying the cops underground.

WHY?

Because Gotham is corrupt?

And... uh, what else?

No? That's it?

Ok.

The football field is destroyed as Heinz Ward runs for a touchdown. You've seen this in the trailer. Cool special effects. Nice! Bane then takes the microphone and addresses the crowd. He explains he's their great liberator and they should take back their city. 'Enjoy the spoils,' he says. The movie cuts to well dressed men being pulled out of their sports cars and women in fur coats being dragged out onto the sidewalk in front of their posh apartment buildings.

I have two issues.

A) Really? A lady in a fur coat? Why not some old guy in a top hat and tails?

Biff! Pow!

B) Bane is addressing people at a pro football game. This is the upper middle class. Tickets are at least $100 a pop. They're wearing $75 jerseys, eating $6 hot dogs, and drinking $8 beers. These people are NOT the oppressed demographic. The uprising is NOT starting at a pro-football game.

I mean the gridlock getting out of the parking lot alone - especially now that it's destroyed - is not going to help Bane's cause.

;-)

Ok, now Gotham sucks. It's like 1940s Poland. How is this helping, Bane? What is this proving? Corruption is now on a more base level. Also, to what end is this happening now that we know the bomb is going to destroy everything in 5 months anyway?

Fine, let's just accept it.

Bruce Wayne loses all his money. He starts a relationship with Miranda Tate. Really? Ok. Then Bane breaks Batman's back and takes him to the prison he grew up in, which again, is WHERE? Mordor? Fine. Batman heals, does his Rocky thing, and focuses his anger. (The thing about jumping without the rope - that was a good bit.) Now Bruce Wayne shows up in Gotham - where NO ONE is allowed in or out - even though he is without costume and fancy devices. Fine. He hooks up with Catwoman and is able to get to all his fancy weaponry with Lucius Fox. Really? That stuff isn't locked up or guarded? Ok. Fine. Batman's also able to get to his fancy Batplane. No one was able to find it in the 5 months it's been sitting there on top of the building under mosquito netting? Really? Fine. So now there's a big fight between the thugs and the police who have come escaped from the tunnels.

Biff! Bam! Kapow!

**Big Ass Spoiler Coming Through!**

And NOW we learn Miranda Tate is actually Ra's al Ghul's daughter - the one who grew up in prison and escaped with the help of her protector Bane. And then Bane became her lover, but was banished from the League of Shadows by her father - whom she hated and couldn't ever forgive until Batman killed him.

Ah, now it all makes sense.

WHAT?!

Seriously?

#ConvolutedAsFuck

Nolan brothers, there's a difference between plot and story. I mean think about the story of 'Inception' because remember how-

Oh, right. Nevermind.

Now Catwoman comes back and saves the day. You go, girl! Then Batman chases down the bomb and flies it out over the bay - which maybe should have been Plan A from the get go.

Ka-BOOM!

So yes, it looks like Batman is dead, but we know he's in Italy with Catwoman. He has to be. She's too hot a piece of ass. So when I see this at the end, I imagine Ratboy and Gnatgirl - it just makes sense, and completes the rhyme scheme. But there's one more thing at the the very very end. Blake discovers the Bat Cave, and we discover his real name is Robin.

Bum bum bummmmm...

Blammo! Zoiks!

Onto the next franchise...

Furthur - Deadheads Walking, or Filthy Dirty Hippies

So I went to see Furthur the other evening. Yes, that's spelled correctly.

I've never done any research, but my guess is that the band is named after the Ken Kesey bus of the same name/spelling. Perhaps it's also a play at 'some great notion' that since the Grateful Dead cannot be the Grateful Dead without Jerry Garcia, the remaining members have decided to go 'further'.

However, not all the remaining members are in Furthur. Some are in other bands, some do their own thing. Again, this is un-googled, but Furthur is essentially Bob Weir, Phil Lesh and some younger musicians - one of whom I think was the drummer for Primus, and another who was the Jerry Garcia of a GD cover band - Dark Star Orchestra.

None of this means one thing or another, although it's interesting to note that Furthur is probably the most awesome cover band in the history of rock and roll... save for the two members who were actually in the actual band.

But what IS important is how the more things change, the more they stay the same.

In high school, the druggies were into Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd. Maybe the Doors and The Who as well. Sure, I had those names scrawled on my Trapper Keeper - along with Springsteen and Dylan. But the serious druggies were into the Grateful Dead. I did NOT listen to the Dead then. In my head I imagined they were like Iron Butterfly or Black Sabbath - something über heavy... I just couldn't go there.

But I started listening to the Dead in college. And I was SHOCKED to find it was country jugband music with some improvisation. Whuh?! Of course, once you get into it, you realize the lyrics are open to life-changing interpretation, and a 3 minute pop song played live can turn into a 45 minute magnum opus that goes in and out of several songs and then back to the original song so that when the line 'What a long strange trip it's been' resurfaces, it's MINDBLOWING.

Damn, that works on at least two levels...

I saw the Dead in the 80s and 90s. I've been to several shows. I once 'followed' them over a long weekend. But I am NOT a deadhead. I don't have that kind of commitment. Rather, I am committed to showering regularly and sleeping in a clean bed. But I appreciate the counter culture groove and the unintended irony of being anti-establishment in a sea of tie-dyes and dreadlocks.

The other evening, my friends and I went to Charter One Pavilion to see/hear Furthur. There are always two shows; the one that happens outside the venue and the one that happens inside. Both are entertaining in their own ways. I remember a Dead show in Milwaukee we didn't have tickets for. We just wandered around the parking lot all night. It was awesome.

Shakedown Street is a song AND a mall. Specifically, aside from also being a song, it's the string of tents in the parking lot that sell t-shirts, glass pipes, beads, and vegan burritos. It's where all walks of life walk; a parade of pasta rasta dreads in guatemalan pajamas. Here the whites of people's eyes are red, the older the tie-dye the more authentic, and the air is thick with pot, patchouli, and BO. It's a freak show. I love it.

Walking around Northerly Island before the show, I was struck by how young a lot of the fans are. They're kids, late teens/early 20s. I felt old. But to put it another way, Phil Lesh is 72. I believe that's a generation, right? It's like being a year or two in college and going to see a band whose members are your grandparents age.

Sure, these kids were tripping out of their skulls and wearing their fun freak clothes, but it seemed it was more than just a summer fling before hitting the books in the Fall. They were full on filthy dirty hippies; deadheads walking. If you've tattooed the lyrics of Sugar Magnolia on your ribcage, you're probably in it for the long haul. You believe.

But the walking dead also included people who were at the actual acid tests 50+ years ago as well. Well, maybe not the actual acid tests, but they could have been. There were at least that old. They were of that era.

e·ra (îr, r)
n.
1. A period of time as reckoned from a specific date serving as the basis of its chronological system.
2.
a. A period of time characterized by particular circumstances, events, or personages: the Colonial era of U.S. history; the Reagan era.
b. A point that marks the beginning of such a period of time. See Synonyms at period.
3. The longest division of geologic time, made up of one or more periods.

It's fascinating to see this demographic of the time/space continuum play out. Almost as much as the band itself play out. I've long believed members of the Grateful Dead are merely vessels for the music. There is no, "Hello, Cleveland!" or, "How's it going tonight?' Nothing. They do not talk. They just stand and play, let the music do the talking. Maybe they sway every now and then, but that's it. If they show any emotion, the crowd goes insane.

"BOBBY! BOBBY! PHILLLLLL! AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

But here's the bottom line. The band rocks. The band is really truly awesome. Yes, you have to like that kind of music. You have to appreciate all the noodling and solos. But the historical significance of the band/music is HUGE. That is undeniable. If you consider the 60's counterculture revolution as axis points, Bob and Phil were right at X and Y. Or Haight and Ashbury if you will. They KNEW Jack Kerouac and Neal Cassady. They KNEW Allen Ginsberg. They were ON the bus WITH Ken Kesey. They are friends with Bob Dylan.

Which brings us back to Furthur. The show outside was great. The show inside was great. And I forgot about the other show; the one that happens right in front of you wherever you are. We had front row right behind the VIP section and the VIP box right in front of us was empty. The theater we were witness was awesome. Soooo many 'heads sat in those seats only to be kicked out by the petite Northwestern coed with the walkie talking and green back pack. Almost every one of them took out their actual ticket which clearly showed they were not where they were supposed to be. Dudes, really? It's bad enough she's trapped in a drug addled time warp.

But credit to this woman, she was good. Very earnest, polite. Kudos to her. Although the last fifteen minutes of the show I think she could have let it go a little. Whoever was supposed to show was not going to show now. It's not a crime to sit where you're not supposed to sit. It's not against the law. C'mon, just be cool...

All in all, we had a good time. The band was in good form. I preferred the second set to the first. I thought 'All Along the Watchtower' was awesome. As well as 'Morning Dew'. Getting home was a bit of a challenge, though. Rather, it was a long hot walk.

And somehow we were able to find a pile of buffalo wings at the end of the night. AWESOME!

PS. I had elote as my halftime theater snack. As the band launched into "Feel Like a Stranger' my boys leaned in and were all like, 'Uh, dude, what are you eating?"

"Elote."

"What's elote?"

"Just corn, man. You want some?"

"Uh, no. Wait, what is it?"

Classic.

Facebook Rules

(Disclaimer: There are no rules. These are MY rules. Take them, leave them.)

Accept timeline. Don't be such a scardy pants. This is your life. Own it.

Of ALL your hundreds of friends on Facebook, only 5 will pick you up at the airport or help you move. This is VERY important to understand.

That's why you need thick skin if you post something you care about and no one 'likes' it.

Of course, the converse goes is true when you post a picture of your Converse and you get a TON of likes/comments.

Don't post more than 5 times a day. It looks bad. Seriously. Get a life. Or get a blog.

But post something at least once a week. Otherwise it looks like you have no life.

You can create your own lists so you can organize and categorize your 'friends'. This allows you to read news only from these friends and post only to these friends. No one can see these lists but you.

Your friends see your updates. Sure, some algorithms are better than others, but they see them - most of them anyway. They don't always know what to say, or are comfortable liking ALL your stuff, but they see your updates.

That said, sometimes they don't. Maybe they're too busy or just not into FB. That's ok. Message them, or pick up the phone.

Post what interests you on your timeline - short of porn and hyper-controversial subjects. But keep it varied, only because otherwise you look like that woman who believes in UFOs and lives with a dozen cats.

Understand that who you are in real life is often who you are on FB. If you're a loudmouth know-it-all, a political blowhard, or an annoying 'look at me' numbskull - that's who you'll be on FB. If you're a decent, caring, creative, normal person - you should be fine.

But make a note of how that works.

Try to say a little something about the video, music, article, etc. Please. Don't be lazy. Or mysterious. That sh*t is annoying.

Stay away from politics and religion - within reason. Seriously. You look like a lunatic. This is what Twitter is for.

Or again, get a blog.

If you have friends who feel it's necessary to tell all the people all the stuff all the time, you can unsubscribe or unfriend them. Or you can simply choose to see only important updates. With the latter, FB will cull their posts down considerably.

Sports. The timeline on FB moves much slower than on Twitter. So when you cheer your team on FB, you look like a lunatic. Also, hashtags don't work on FB - unless you're using it as punctuation. #SeeWhatIDidThere

Don't share what you don't want to share. It's that simple. If you don't want people to know you're a grand dragon, don't post that video of you giving the keynote at the Klan rally...

Don't sh*t in the stream. It looks lazy. And crazy. Pinterest goes to Pinterest. Instagram to Instagram. Linkedin to Linkedin. Twitter to Twitter*. Etc.

Because otherwise it looks like all your posts are coming from the Department of the Redundancy Department.

If you don't want people to know you're reading crap stories about Kim Kardashian and Lindsey Lohan, go to your apps in your privacy settings and set them to Only Me.

Go ahead and like something your friend says. It shows you saw it and liked what they said. It's like a warm fuzzy. But if you don't, then don't. If you want to comment accordingly, go ahead, but understand it's hard to see sarcasm.

Use emoticons. It helps people undertand you're being sarcastic and not just an a**hole.

;-)

Try not to swear. Think of FB as a community center. There are people you know well, not so well, and some you've just met. And there are kids hanging around. If you need to tell the state of Arizona to go f*ck themselves - Twitter.

No one cares if you have a cold or your shoulder hurts. Tell your significant other, or better yet your doctor.

Also no one cares if you're hungry, or if you're bored. Or sad. C'mon, are you 5?

If you say you're sad or bored, you're fishing. Two words. Grow. Up.

You are sad and bored? Seriously? C'mon! It's the internet! Hello! It has EVERYTHING from self help blogs to videos of cats playing piano. Bored? Sad? Pullllease....

But if you break a bone, or run anything more than a 5K - we'll like that. We want to be supportive.

Obviously, no one likes it if you break a bone, but hopefully you've included an amusing anecdote. Or a gruesome picture.

When you 'like' brands, it means you get their stuff in your newsfeed. This means the internet now comes to you. That's actually pretty cool.

But you can choose to unlike a brand if gets to be too much.

Also, there are interest lists which means you can manage what you want to see without having to like anything - if that's more your thing.

The profile picture of you that's actually your kid, or your dog, or a celebrity you want to be - it's time to let it go. The web is maturing. So should you.

Of course, it's just FB - which is social and fun. Maybe on Linkedin use a grown up picture.

Use your cover photo to show your amusing, creative, topical, and clever side.

Why use FB at all? Email sucks - 5 emails out of 100 are useful/important, and when's the last time you used your phone as a phone?

FB gives you/your friends a chance to peek in and see what's going on each other's lives. That's ok. That's good.

FB will never replace a wave or a head nod. It will never replace a handshake and a smile. It will never replace a hug and kiss. But it will do in the interim. It will do.

* The exception is Twitter, but only if the tweet is particularly brilliant/poignant. For example, when Michael Vick got a 100M contract after being in jail for dogfighting, $100,000,000... That's horse fighting money can be shared on FB. But a lame observation like, A hair band combined with a scrunchy is not that different than a belt combined with suspenders should not.