The 1980s were a challenging decade. Recession, cultural upheaval, and probably the worst fashions in human history--and yes, I am familiar with the Baroque d^_~b. I was born in 1980, so my awareness of the world doesn't really start until about 1984, with He-Man, Superfriends, Transformers, and (early in 1985) Thundercats. I wasn't a G.I. Joe fan, but yeah, I watched that too sometimes.

Anyway, in 1986 we got The Karate Kid, Part II. Somewhere in there, the Disney Channel aired Unico in the Island of Magic, which both terrified and fascinated me. I would not see another anime--or even know it was called anime--until the 1990s, but my on-again, off-again love affair with all things Japanese is clearly another bit of memetic 80s detritus, washed up by the storm that brought MTV to our televisions--and Nintendo to our shores.

Well, it is practically peripheral to my usual areas of inquiry, but I find myself gawking, spectator-like, at the Louisiana interracial marriage hoopla. Long story short: a Justice of the Peace declined to perform the marriage ceremony for an "interracial couple," citing the notion that such marriages don't last and are therefore bad for children. The headline--that he denied them a marriage license--doesn't make any sense to me (because you don't go to a JotP to get a marriage license, or is it different in Lousiana?).

Anyway, I'm still waiting for a Magistrate in Pennsylvania to put someone in the stocks for adultery, or a Judge in Arizona to order someone branded for cattle-thievery, or something. Because that's about what it would take to top this weird story.

Three words: Spider-man: The Musical.

In this episode: telemarketers, Kubuntu 9.0.4, and 3L grades!

My love of Watchmen is pretty well established. I've been wearing the iconic "blood-drop smiley" pinned to my coat for nearly a decade. I'm also a fan of cartoons, which means I'm only too familiar with the "adjustments" networks make to great stories in an attempt to "broaden the appeal." So this gave me a chuckle.

As a general rule, I try to only blog about things no one could possibly care about. Generally, I enjoy things before they're popular, and occasionally eschew popular things for no better reason than because everyone likes them. Take Alan Moore's Watchmen, for example. I have been wearing a homemade Comedian button, complete with blood drop, pinned to my black trenchcoat for years. I have to admit, I'm way stoked about the movie. But the fact that people are suddenly "discovering" Watchmen is mildly irritating to me, in the same way the popularity of the Lord of the Rings movie bothered me.

Part of it is doubtless a feeling that I'm suddenly that much less unique as a person. But a larger part of it is that a lot of these Johnny-come-lately fans are the same people who, before Hollywood got around to the dramatization, not only refused to read the books but actively persecuted those who did!

I am actually working on two--two!--law school related blog entries. Seriously. But I couldn't pass this up. Maybe because it's about toys? I love toys. d^_^b

Go read this article. It's okay. I'll wait.

Now. What. The. Heck. Ty Girlz (let's just skip how insipid and uninspired it is to substitute Zs and Xs at the end of words in order to get around trademark laws on ordinary language) introduces its very first black dolls (let's also skip how CNN assumes that all black people are of African descent), names those dolls after the President's daughters, and then insists the dolls aren't named for the Obamas?

Come on. Seriously. I might have been persuaded of Ty's "coincidence" if they released "Tasha and Tia." But this? This is a three-year-old with ice cream all over her face telling us that the dog made the mess in the kitchen. Unbe-frickin'-lievable.

One: I have not posted in a long time. Let's pretend it's because I'm busy preparing for final exams.

Two: No embedded videos on my front page? Well, I guess that means I should put one here. Hopefully you will accept this love song as an apology for my extended absence. It is, as they say in the vernacular, full of win.

Okay, let's just dispense with the obvious: when your vacuum cleaner stops working, do you say "that sucks" or "that doesn't suck?"

Well, in this case, I'm going to go with "that blows." As in, up. As in, explodes. Check it--

What the frak.

So it turns out I'm partial to "freak" and "freaking" (pronounced "frick" and "frickin'"). My wife was somewhat more tickled by "feck," as borrowed from the TV comedy Father Ted. With George Carlin's recent death, it seems like everyone has swearing on the brain... so I wasn't entirely surprised to see that CNN finally picked up on how Battlestar Galactica's "frak" has infiltrated the language as a "pseudo-swear."