Studio Goon? That's A Beatdown...

BoingBoing broke it. Fark picked it up. Wil has his $0.02 in on it. And now, it's my turn.

Warner Brothers has begun sending in goons with video cameras, and they're infiltrating a theater near you. Not to record the movie, no. To record YOU. Yep, here's an excerpt taken from an excerpt that Wil posted:

"[I]mmediately I notice an older gentleman who looked to be about 60 standing in the corner of the theater. Sporting a black suit and a black briefcase, he began to film the audience during the movie. Every 5-10 minutes he would sweep the audience with his video camera, then turn it off and just watch us, then turn the camera back on and sweep again."

Yeah. They're filming the audience, trying to catch people pirating the movie on film. And you know what? Chances are that noone saw any kind of disclosure anywhere in their theater stating that Warner was in there pulling this shit.

Privacy Violations 101: No Disclosure = Failure To Obtain Permission To Film People = Big Honking Lawsuit Against Both The Theater And Warner.

Any of you (all 6 of you, big up to Static Brain) experience this recently with any of Warner's films, such as Harry Potter 5? Horror stories in comments, please. Meanwhile, I'll be keeping a close eye on the local theaters (including the local drive-in) to see if Warner has contacted any of them to do this crap. I'll keep you posted...

Caulk The Wagon

Going About It The Wrong Way

The Borough of Philipsburg, PA is fucking it up.

Ever since their Downtown Revitalization Program began, it's been doomed to failure, purely out of mismanagement. Noone on that board has any idea what they're doing, or how to go about doing it.

The goal is blazingly obvious: Philipsburg is a run-down former boom town that's gone to hell in a handbasket in the last 20 years, and you have to do something to try and revive at least part of that boom spirit.

Now, the state is trying to kick in: Philipsburg is part of the larger "Corridor O" project, an offshoot interstate (possibly I-322) between I-99 and I-80 from State College to near Clearfield, designed to take the traffic burden off of US 322. The problem here is the Acid Rock dilemma outside of State College, where the deviation north from 99 takes place. The delays this places on the entire 99 project, as well as the connection, delays any potential growth Philipsburg might gain from it. This, of course, has nothing to do with the Downtown Partnership, but it doesn't help their case much.

Not that their case holds much water. Right now, Philipsburg's DRP is spending a metric-assload of money - $2 Million - on... Wait for it... Waaaaaaait for it... Hold on, you're gonna love this... It's worth it, trust me... Here it comes... Old Timey Street Lamps.

Yeah. Old Timey Street Lamps.

OK, so, let's take stock here. You spent all that money on the Simler house. That ugly ass eyesore on Second Street that noone gives a shit about. How many visitors a year does that bring in? Hmmm? Lots of tourist dollars being generated by that little miracle? No? Not really? Awww, too bad. On the bright side, though, I hear it made a great urinal for wandering drunks when Dreamer's was still serving...

Let's see, what else have you guys accomplished? Let's shoot for Heritage Days, probably the only thing you do halfway right. The only problem is, Heritage Days is where you really display your biggest and most problematic dysfunction: Egotism. You people seem to have this sense of entitlement, because you're doing some thing "for the good of the community," that allows you to use the banner of "community service" to elicit free stuff, thus saving you money for stupid projects like old-timey street lights.

Usually, Heritage Days is a showcase for local flavor: food, goods, and even talent. Local musicians look forward to the annual showcase for an oppertunity to get out there and get heard. Now granted, alot of the kids don't get this chance because, hey, let's face it: The music they play sucks and isn't proper for a community fair like this. But there are plenty of adult contemporary musicians in the area willing to do a "Bob Sagget on Full House" deal and pull a clean, fun show.

Trouble is, this is how they make their living. So asking them to "donate their time" singles them out, over all others, as a second-class participant. Every other local business that sets up shop on Front Street is there to do one major thing above all other minor things: SELL SELL SELL. Make money.

The local musician should be no different, and should be compensated for their performance. Asking them to donate their time when everyone else is allowed to schill their services is unfair. Entertaining the public is an industry, just like selling polish food and baseball cards and ice cream for the band or whatever. PAY THEM ACCORDINGLY.

Then, there's the biggest mistake of all: Your mismanagment of the Rowland Theater. This, above all others, saddens me the most, because the Rowland is like a home-away-from-home to me. I saw my first movie (E.T.) there. I volunteered there when I was in High School. I was employed there for over a year as Projectionist.

And that whole time, I've watched you neglect and misuse the one true historical asset that Philipsburg can and should boast about.

All you want is class, class, class. Symphonies that bring in maybe 100 people. School plays that do OK, but mostly out of parental and familial obligation to attend. Auctions for shit that's way to expensive for the locals to even think about affording. Class Class Class.

HELLO! Philipsburg is NOT a class town. It's a drunken blue-collar redneck and bored, misguided kids town. Duh.

Use the Rowland the right way for once. Movie festivals every so often, movies that people wanna see: horror flicks, comedies, action pics, old school scifi, b-movies, indie films... Rock shows, too. If security is done right, then you won't have an incident like Shut Up and Play 3. Yes, that was a goof. But one goof. I'm sure that you, in your ever-persistent quest to get people to donate time, could get some of the local fire departments to provide some local muscle if you gave them Security t-shirts...

With the State Theater in the process of a reboot, the Rowland could be a big draw to the college population over at Penn State - IF IT HELD THE RIGHT EVENTS.

And don't go patting yourselves on the back for doing such a wonderful thing for the community just yet, folks. It's time for some accountability.

So, you're tearing up Front Street right now. Big mess. Pain in the ass for locals. All to wire up some old timey street lamps and possibly convert the thing back to two way. But! What happens if the tourism dollars you're expecting to gain from this little adventure don't add up to what you spent, even over a good span of a few years? Simler House hasn't produced squat but urine stains and laughs as people drive by.

You know, there's this big old empty lot on the corner of Front and Presqueisle. You know, old sporting goods store and apartments? You remember! Come on! Big red building, biggest fire the borough's probably seen since the Pierce Opera House (bet you don't remember THAT one!)? Yeah, that big old chunk of dirt between the Dollar Store and CNB. Why don't you do something constructive with that, eh?

I have a few ideas in mind, but you people are too busy trying to ease your concience by convincing yourselves that you're doing a community a good service. All you're doing is wasting time, money, and annoying the hell out of your residents, who grow more and more restless and bored with every stupid project you undertake. If you really, REALLY want to revitalize Philipsburg, you need to do one simple thing:

STOP LIVING IN THE PAST AND MOVE INTO THE FUTURE. The ONLY way Philipsburg will survive is if it moves out of the 19th century and into the 21st. Technology is Philipsburg's only hope, and putting in new old-timey street lamps which you can decorate with pretty lights and banners throughout the year isn't quite the right step.

You're wasting what's given to you, and misusing what you already have. I think it's time for a general cleanup of managment and reshuffling of priorities. Meantime, finish your little streetlight project. Because that's what brings them flocking to town, right? Right...

Gone Daddy Gone

Score one for the good guys:

Karl Rove is resigning.

That is all. Let the parties commence.

Still Hiding

My "buddy" who loves to leave rather nasty comments, yet not post his/her name with them, has struck again. This time, with a ton of incoherant babble, such as how I'm some sort of psycho, my mug shot should be plastered all over the Intertubes, and all kinds of BS and rhetoric. Thing is though, they still refuse to post their own names. All they can do is criticize from behind the Anonymous tag.

I'd say that makes you the pussy, not me. In the meantime, though, just to give you an idea of just how wrong he/she is, this link will take you to a Google Search of my full name:

"Eric James Jacobson" @ Google

I've said it before, I'll say it again: My life is an open book. You read it on this very page. Not once have I tried to hide my identity when I talk smack.

You, on the other hand, aren't so gutsy, I don't think. You're probably some little teenage chicken shit who thinks that they're just "so far above" me. Well, Mr. or Ms. Soapbox, try coming down off your high Anonymous horse and give us your real name.

You wanna play with the big dogs? Then step up and act like it. Otherwise, it's back to the puppy farm for you...

180

First of all, let me just say that Quiet Riot and Skid Row tore the fucking house down at the Clearfield County Fair last night. I felt like I was 10 years old again, rocking out to the songs I had to play in a walkman, so my mom wouldn't trip about me listening to that "devil music."

The Clearfield County Fair itself is, supposedly, the social event of the year, especially on Friday night. Everyone, and I mean everyone, comes out of the woodwork to attend, get ripped off by carnies, eat a metric shit-ton of food (mostly Polish and Greek), and gossip like there's no tomorrow. Take one lap around the fair, and you're likely to see people you haven't spoken to in years, people you just left five minutes ago, and many others whom you interact with on a semi-regular basis.

It's like six degrees of separation crammed into one square half-mile.

Last night was no different for me, though there is one person I saw that sticks out in my mind above the others, and I have a feeling that, at some point, that person is going to come and read this blog, having seen me as well. The only problem is, this time, they're not going to find what history has taught them they will.

You know, you seriously fucking amaze me. No lie. How do you do it? From one failure to another, and each time, it's the "greatest thing ever," only to fall apart at the worst of times and become the springboard for another bad decision. When will it end? When will you wake up and smell the coffee?

Honestly, I don't think you want to. Because guess what: The coffee is stale. About 13 years stale, in fact. Noone bothered to cover it, put it in the fridge, reheat it, nothing. And would you like to know why you're smelling stale coffee?

Why, that should be obvious to you. Because you're a lie. Not just a lier, but a lie itself. Your entire personality is a direct contradiction of the actions you take. And the worst part about it is, you're lying to yourself. Not just me, not just everyone else around you. YOU. You've become the victim of your own catch 22.

You dug the grave. Lay in it. I'm not going to pull you out this time.

In case I have to spell it out for you, it's H-A-T-E. I hate you. You go on bouncing from perfect world to perfect world. My perfect world might suck more than anything has sucked in the history of things sucking, but at least its real, not just an empty hope or dream.

Or a delusion...

One For The Others

To the people leaving me comments (which never get published), the ones that simply MUST tear apart everything I say, put down my ideas, and generally be critical of me and my work, let me just say this:

At the very least, when I say something (right or wrong), I have the brass pair to put my name on it. I don't have to hide behind the mantle of Anonymous.

You identify yourself (not with just a nickname or a fake name, but your real, full name), then we'll talk about posting your comments. Until then, the proof is in the pudding: I've got the stones, you don't.

I'm not afriad. You're a chickenshit.

And for the record, on that subject? I'm 100% correct...

The One About That One Time Back Then

Oh yeah. New book goodness, baby. The collection on my shelf continues to grow, with this week's addition of Harry Potter 7, and now with the news of the impending release of the latest book from Wil Wheaton (aka The Boss of Everybody), "The Happiest Days of Our Lives."

First of all, Kudos to Wil for using Pink Floyd. Brilliant choice, although the song itself (found on disc one of The Wall, for those scoring at home) isn't quite "Wil's New Book"-related. Oh well, most people won't recognize it off the bat, anyway. They all think it's just the intro to "Another Brick in the Wall Part II..."

At any rate, if you don't read Wil's blog, or haven't read his books, you're really missing out. Once you put aside the whole Star Trek fanboy nonsense, you find that Wil does something that the people who wrote his character on TNG couldn't do: Write, and write well. Convey a story in a way that elicits genuine connection and response from the reader.

Boy can spin a good yarn, that's for sure.

Go read some of his entries. You'll see what I mean. I'll be here when you get back.

No, really...

Definition Of Irony

Found on Fark, this is the end-all, beat-all of irony videos. Inmates in a prison in the Philippines (and a shit ton of them at that), all performing the zombie dance number from... Wait for it...

Michael Jackson's "Thriller."

Click and enjoy...

And you know what? They're not half bad at all...

Behold The Power of Cheese

If this were an actual game, I'd be addicted to it for sure.

Famous Last Words

From this BBC article:

President George W Bush has played down the anxiety, however:

"There is a perception in the coverage that al-Qaeda may be as strong today as they were prior to September 11th," he said on Thursday.

"That's simply not the case."

In case you don't want to read that, Georgie is reacting to Congress doubling the bounty on one Osama bin Laden, turr'r mastermind and all around scary guy.

So, tell me something, Mr. President. How are you so sure that is "simply not the case?" Hmm? Is this the same intelligence that told you Saddam Hussein (may his soul roast in hell as he and Satan have buttsex) had WMDs? Is it a "gut feeling" like Chertoff's? Can you show us some hard evidence?

The truth is, you can't back that up at all. Not even in the slightest. al Qaeda COULD be that strong. How are we to know otherwise? Trust you? HA! The people who defend this country
can't even trust you, Mr. President.

Show me some proof, jackass. And if they DO attack, I'll enjoy watching you eat those words...

Hellmuth Busts Out Hard

Here's Phil Hellmuth, driving around a casino parking lot in a stock car with his name and face all over it, basically living out the racing equivalent to having your pocket rockets cracked with a 10-2o. Enoy. (Via Fark)

Genesis

So, how do you start up a podcast, anyway?

I guess I'm about to find out. After talking with John last night, I've decided to give it a shot, thereby making my statement above (about being a podcaster) a reality instead of just a dream.

The trouble is, coming up with something for a proof-of-concept show.

For the last few years, I've had an incredible case of writer's block. It's why I never finished UR, and it's also why there hasn't been much from me creatively in a long time. If anything, my blog has become a dusty, cobwebbed closet I open once in a while to put stuff in.

That's not cool.

I'm hoping that my recent desire to actually work with my blogs is a good sign of things to come. I really do miss being able to come up with stuff like I used to. It's just that life has brought me to a point where I don't much care about anything, let alone writing something for the sheer joy of it like the old days.

Only this time, I'm not writing for just a blog. I'm laying down a recording of my voice and releasing it upon the Earth. So, it's gotta be at least halfway good, right? Right.

Talk about brain frying...

USA! USA! USA!

Finally. An American I can give some honest support to! Congratulations to Joey Chestnut, winner of the 2007 Nathan's Famous Hot Dogs 4th of July Hot Dog Eating Championships! After years of domination by Japan's Takeru Kobayashi, Chestnut ate an unbelievable 66 hot dogs and buns, smashing the record set by Kobayashi the year before by just over a dozen! ROCK ON!

Let It Be

Nathan James Aughenbaugh -- 1980 - 2007. He died because of the cruelty and malice of others. He died unnecessarily.

Beside his casket, surrounded by the people responsible for his death, I made him a promise: "We'll make this right."

And we will.

Nathan, when I knew him best, was a happy kid who loved rollerskating and off-roading in his entirely illegal Bronco; Listening to music and taking road trips; being with his friends and flirting with Angela. He loved life, and almost always had a smile on his face.

Never was he ever suicidal. Ever.

Soon, you'll all know why Nathan did what he did. But that's not what I'm here to do right now.

Right now, I want Nathan remembered for the true person he was: A giving friend, happy and full of life, who wanted nothing more than for people to be like him and just chill out and enjoy the ride. If there was anything he could do to make his friends feel better, it was done. All he wanted in return was the same kindness and positive vibes; Negativity was never his thing.

Back in the summers of 1994 and 1995, Nathan, Angela and I would jump in the Escort and put his cassette single copy of Sugar Hill Gang's "Rapper's Delight" into the tape deck, and we'd drive around endlessly, listening to all 15 minutes of the song, over and over, just to kill time before we went to the skating rink. By the time 1996 rolled around, I'm sure all of us could rap along to any version of that song without missing a beat, all thanks to knowing each and every part of the whole song from memory. All because of Nathan.

Nathan loved kids, and his influence is no more evident than on the kids of our friend Nikki. Those kids will endlessly pick flowers and give them to Mom and her friends. All because of Nathan. Because he loved to follow the old addage "stop and smell the [flowers]." There is creativity alive in Angela's daughter, thanks in great part to Nathan and his love of imatination. Several of the drawings hanging on Angela's apartment walls have Nathan's influence in them.

Angela and I have big plans in the works, and I'll have a huge announcement of the positive variety very soon. In the meantime, though, I ask all of you to remember Nathan for who he truely was. Keep him in your hearts and memories. Every life he touched was brightened.

It's just so goddamned sad that he had to suffer so much...

Vaya con dios, hermano...