Worst. Punchline. EVER!

As overheard in OMSI's store. Dad: "Do you know what kind of pencils dinosaurs used in school?" Daughter: "No." Dad: "Giant dinosaur pencils!" [points at 1.5' long pencil.] Daughter: blank stare.

Annnnnnd, scene.

But I did almost ROTFL at this in the grocery store later. "Her Maaaaaaaaaaaaaj is coming up, so you better get this party started..."

I wonder how Table Manners Cat would eat party mix. But mostly, I wonder if I can have some of whatever that lady is smoking.

I could not have said it better myself...

... although I would've fixed the typo in the second paragraph.

I was home sick today so I had plenty of opportunities to listen to her speech, which they ran, and re-ran, and re-ran, and are probably still running on CNN. I opted to ignore the coverage. The minute I heard about this, I suspected it was an ill-advised move that would probably serve to eventually bite McCain in the ass. So now, we wait.

I was heartened to see many friends from high school laughing this off in their Facebook status. Hooray for under-represented east coast liberals!

Public service announcement.

Daytime television is really, really bad.

Really.

Idea #75: Be neighborly.

That one is easy. I'm on Yelp.

Next!

[9/14/08 Ed. note - I think this also covers idea #22 - pitching in on a community web project. Sweet! Not to mention all those silly Facebook groups I've joined... But I *do* go out of my way to step on leaves that are particularly crunchy!]

And to think, I was in the "talented and gifted" program in elementary school.

One of the first things I noticed when I moved to Portland was the sky. More specifically, the clouds. It's been a rare day that you can't see clouds - puffy white clouds, gray looming clouds, wispy faint strands of lingering clouds, a combination of all three and then some. They give the sky character. They're such a nice change of pace from the Bay Area perpetually blue sky (the fog doesn't count - too low to the ground).

When I was in elementary school, a classmate postulated that clouds didn't move - they stood still while the earth rotated, and because of this it just looked like they were moving. I didn't really think it was true at the time, but walking home from school that day I glanced up at the sky and the spring clouds were moving pretty fast. I mean, the earth was moving pretty fast. I got dizzy. And I remember suddenly feeling very, very small.

Of course now I know this is not true. But to this day I can look up at the clouds in the sky on a sunny day, or the stars on a clear night, and still feel very, very small.

And in a strange way I find this smallness very comforting.

Idea #6: count your blessings.

This idea from the magic book addresses a collection of things that makes me happy, like a perfectly good day. I kind of already covered this idea here, but today was so nice that I'll do an encore. Yesterday was pretty low-key but it did involve wandering around the NE. During said wandering I decided I needed a weekend day where I didn't force myself to get out and be a person, or explore my town, or run boring errands, or spend over $10. So, today I...

... woke up at 6:30am, took care of laundry and caught up on important news stories over breakfast. (Guilty pleasure #293.)

... did some Martha Stewarting for upcoming birthdays.

... allowed myself 2 hours of Food Network/TLC. (Guilty pleasure #439. I was particularly impressed to see that Big Daddy has come really far since winning - good show, sir!)

... took a nap with Her Majesty.

... ate lunch and got sucked into reruns of Celebrity Fit Club. (Guilty pleasure #571.)

... used that as motivation to go to the gym, where I ran 7 miles. (7! Miles! Last time I did that? I have no idea.)

... and used that as motivation to go to Fred Meyer for beer and ice cream. (I'm pretty sure those items, along with some cheese and crackers, will be my dinner. I'm just fine with that. After all, 7! Miles!)

... threw some random stuff in a tupperware for lunch tomorrow, blatantly ignored the pile of ironing, and tuned in to catch an amazing set by Rodrigo Y Gabriela at the SF Outside Lands festival.

... which brings us to now. The rain is falling and Her Majesty and I are watching Cake do a Black Sabbath impression.

Life is good. And also, damn John McCrea looks old.

Sunday dish.

Another fine insult to my friends with REAL PhDs.

But, Jennifer Love Hewitt, I thought the whole point was... Oh, never mind.

HA-ha!!

Just when you thought hip-hop rivalry was dead, Jay-Z blasts... wha? Oasis? In England? Sigh.

More proof that Anderson Cooper wants to be Jon Stewart sooooooooo badly...

Quite possibly the only thing I will ever enjoy that involves Paris Hilton.

And finally, why I still read Best Week Ever. (Viewer discretion advised.)

Quietly judging me.

But it was Primus! Come ON! Of course I had to crank it up.

This seems to be Her Majesty's new favorite spot. I can't tell if she's holding a sit-in in protest of the amount of time I spend online, or if she just likes the pillows. Either way, it needs to cease immediately...

Belated Friday five. Er... Wednesday three.

Five things you might not know about me, in no particular order other than the order in which they came to mind while I anxiously await Primus streaming from the Outside Lands festival...

1. I really like Primus. My first "real" show (e.g. one that did not involve the Capital Center in DC, back when it was still the Capital Center) was either Primus or Fishbone at the Citadel. Both shows rocked but I remember being particularly enthralled with Primus. I haven't kept up with them at all but I'm glad they're still around. And I'm anxiously awaiting their show tonight.

2. If you see me wearing my frog ring, it's because I expect to have a bad day. If you see me wearing my frog earrings or skull & crossbone earrings, the same rule applies 95% of the time. (4% of the other time is when I would go to Pirate Night at Speisekammer. The remaining 1% is the time I just forgot to change my earrings.)

3. I claim to not like sweet things, and this is mostly true (they make my teeth hurt! they really, really do!) but it's also largely because I was slightly chubby when I was in 5th grade and my pediatrician put me on a diet... which my brother eventually found out and mocked me for years... and I haven't quite gotten over that. I was probably only about 15 pounds overweight at the time (thanks, Coleco Vision!) and I ended up losing most of the weight that year and the rest over the next few years, but he still made fun of me. One of the nicest things he ever said to me was when I got back from senior year beach week, where I'd eaten about 2 meals the whole week and had probably lost ten pounds I had no business losing. I believe the words were "damn, you're skinny!" Anyway, I gained weight a few years ago (thanks, metabolism!) and had flashbacks... and subsequently shunned the sweets. (Thanks, brother!)

And oh, there they are. OK, executive decision - this is now a Wednesday three. All done with this post now.

Why I need to stop talking smack about my beloved country...

... exhibit A.

Crossing one off the list.

Caught Gonzo at the Laurelhurst last night. Cute theater. Small, and no Parkway, but cute. (Did not try the beer or pizza due to a prior engagement involving mint juleps and three plates of fried food. Shared by four people, but still. Must return at a later date.)

The film was a bit scattered, which seemed appropriate given the subject matter. It made me want to go back and re-read all the Thompson and Kerouac and Kesey and Wolfe I read in my hippie 20's phase. It made me like Jimmy Buffet for a brief moment, and miss Jimmy Carter as a prominent political figure.

Mostly, it made me happy to remember that once upon a time, America actually gave a shit about elections. I'm not convinced that this year is any different than the other election years during which I've been alive.

I want to believe. I do. Just need a sign. But as long as VEEPs are chosen based on which state they will win for the running president, I'm not sold.

Pouring myself a cup of ambition.

Werner Herzog, the filmmaker who brought you Grizzly Man and numerous other German films I have not seen, went to Antarctica to make a movie. From the start it clearly was not to be a fluffy penguin movie. (There are penguins, and a couple of seals, but the fluff factor in these few brief scenes is negatory.)

Herzog's escapades around the continent feature gloom-and-doom interviews with renowned sci-fi-loving scientists who are not exactly convinced that we'll be around much longer; autobiographical accounts of random people who live and work in Antarctica (hint: they're a special breed); and absolutely breathtaking underwater photography.

This is not your typical BBC multi-million dollar endeavor. The footage is shaky and raw, the story goes all over the place, and the cast of "characters" (including a penguin) may very well all have psychological disorders. And Herzog's narrative is at times bitingly sarcastic, at times insightful, but always morose.

I loved it.

I've been in a bit of a funk lately - sure, the heat hasn't helped, but overall I'm just not sure what I'm doing here (Portland, the world, the universe, etc.) or why, and every day I utterly despise this whole "working for a living" concept more and more. I think this film was just what I needed yesterday. There was something comforting about watching people get excited about their work, even though the results of their work kinda proved that the planet was screwed.

It did make me question my overall plans a bit though. I'm starting to lean away from "house-buying plan A" and more toward "selling everything and following Arcade Fire around the world plan B"... Life's too damn short.

Would you rather have...

... a small six-legged cat bus robot,

~ OR ~

... an actual cat bus?

Decisions, decisions.

Life imitating art.

Apologies in advance for the extraneous use of air quotes.

I'm back to living Office Space.

Exhibit A: I have "TPS reports."

Exhibit B: The other day, it was 5:00pm on the dot, I was waiting for my "program" to "compile" so I could head out the door, and the boss called to ask if I had to leave right away or if I could chat for a few minutes. A few minutes turned into 30. I couldn't help but laugh.

Exhibit C: My "flair" at work so far consists of this baby (only I have Captain Bogg and Salty's version, which is apparently not available online), plus this baby, plus a little art project I did during one of the mandatory fun day events. I used to decorate the hell out of my space at work, even designating a space for pictures of "places I'd rather be." My cube is really depressing right now. Part of me wants to put forth more effort, but the rest of me just doesn't care at all what the buttons say.

However! My red Swingline stapler is prominently featured on my desk. At least one person has said, "oh wow, red Swingline. Office Space?" I immediately knew we were going to be friends. I was right.

As long as we don't move back to living Fight Club, I think I'm OK with all this. Boxing class is fun and all, but... OW.

An open letter to...

Dear Credo (formerly Working Assets),
Last month when I called to inquire about something, I was offered a "free three month trial" for "unlimited web browsing" through my mobile phone. Knowing full well that nothing is ever "free," but not being able to imagine how this could possibly come back to bite me, I said OK. I have no laptop or crackberry and especially being in a newish town, I've been wondering if it would be helpful to have Google maps access remotely. Over the next few weeks I mostly used it to check email and Facebook on the train, and I may have used it twice for Google maps (which were quite handy, but were just employed because I was too lazy to check out the map the night before on my real computer).

But then.

I was about to write you a really angry letter because the "free trial" for "unlimited web browsing" meant "any web sites under 1MB," which represents, oh, about 0.0003% of the interweb. So "free" turned into $70. I was not warned of any of this. I got no supplemental documentation in the mail. Granted, I didn't ask for any, but still. You're Credo (formerly Working Assets). You would not screw me over.

But then.

You called me to warn me about the $70 charge, and suggested I get the $15 package deal instead, and signed me up right on the spot, and suggested if I didn't want the package deal to continue I should call back in a few days and cancel. So I called this morning from the bus stop, half asleep, and only after hanging up did I realize the customer service rep thought I wanted to cancel my web bill, not my web access via mobile phone. Great. I didn't catch it in time and now I had to call you back again.

But then.

I called from the bus stop this evening, fully awake this time, and explained the situation to the customer service rep. She apologized profusely for their mistake, which was actually my mistake, fixed everything and then she gave me a $10 credit on my next bill for all my "trouble."

Mobile phones were not meant to check email or Facebook, but I am glad I gained that knowledge firsthand for only $5.

So now.

Credo (formerly Working Assets) - LYLAS!

- Jen(n)

Oh noes...

I'm officially one of THEM.

You know THEM. THEY turn up their nose at you if you haven't memorized every word of all 700 pages of every Harry Potter book. THEY look the other way when you stare blankly at the mention of some obscure piece of classical music that was written by a famous composer before he wrote the famous piece of classical music you might actually recognize (maybe). THEY shun you when you do not worship the Mac.

Today at work I got visibly agitated when a youngster hipster type was telling an older (read: my age) hipster type that he "should check out this thing called Dr. Horrible, it's by that guy who did that Buffy show. Crazy mad scientist singing blog thing." He replied, "huh, yeah maybe I'll check that out."

Those were their exact words.

Note the nonchalance! The lack of interest! The not-running-back-to-the- cube-immediately-to-Google-this-wonderful-creation!

I wanted to scream, "NO! If you didn't know about this before now... If you haven't already memorized the songs... If you are not thrilled with the knowledge that this exists... If you don't even KNOW HIS NAME... You are not worthy!" Instead I interrupted their conversation with "it's actually pretty brilliant." And then I grumbled under my breath for the next 10 minutes.

What are THEY... um... WE even called? "Uber geeks"? "Snob geeks"? "Sneeks"? (Um, "annoying"?) Urban Dictionary was no help tonight. Can I just call myself "whedonesque"? It has a nice ring to it. And I haven't read any Harry Potter books. (Yet.)

For the last time...

... it's MY music. I PAID FOR IT. Now let me listen to it in whatever format I wish.

Bloody Apple.

Oh, don't you get me started now.

Last night I was headed down one mental path, but thanks to (no kidding) Corey Haim (no, really, no kidding) followed by The Photo Album blaring in my ears for an hour, I got a little perspective and went another route.

And I feel much better for it.

Who says train wreck TV isn't educational?!

Sort of late or really early Friday five.

I've been trying to find something funny each day, mostly for my own amusement, but also because I am starting to think that if you can't laugh at the world, you're royally screwed. So, five things that made me laugh last week, in the order they occurred:

• Monday: the sock monkey display at an upscale department store downtown. I can't find any relevant links but it appears to be a tribute to this book. I did find this and now? OMG I waaaaaaaaant one of those guys in the first picture. Er... I mean, I could totally make one of those myself.
• Tuesday: I saw a somewhat rotund, heavily pierced, very tattooed girl of about 25 wearing this t-shirt.
  
• Wednesday: walking home I saw a guy in his early 30's sporting a pirate patch over one eye. He was otherwise dressed for success so I'm sure it was because of an eye injury, but I still had to seriously hold back from muttering "gaaaaaaar!" under my breath as I walked past him. I'm SO SURE he hasn't heard that enough. So yes, on Wednesday I laughed at myself. I'm OK with that.
• Thursday: a young kid gave his seat to an older woman on the bus. Well, that didn't make me laugh but it did make me smile. Chivalry and respecting elders is not dead to the world... yet.
• Friday: my cube mate blared a Dead Milkmen CD after everyone else had gone home. I always, always, always laugh at Beach Song, but if you don't laugh when you hear this song too, something is seriously wrong with you.

BONUS: today I saw a guy of Hispanic or Latino descent wearing a t-shirt that said "We learn Espanol so that you don't have to." I wish I knew where he got it. I know someone who would totally love that t-shirt.

Two things I really like about my job.

1. They don't mind so much if people leave early on Fridays. It's not unusual for the office to be an utter wasteland by 4pm.

2. There are quality band-aids in the first aid kit. Not those crappy vinyl-don't-stick-to-anything-not-even-themselves kind - I'm talking top notch, baby.

Hey, it's the little things, OK? I am dreading the upcoming week, for no other reason than... well, than the fact that I just don't want a job.

Oh, temporary voluntary expired unemployment, why must you mock me so?

Q: Drink? A: A world of no.

Idea #42 is to make a personal timeline of my past. That's a pretty horrifying thought, but I can definitely pinpoint some highlights that I haven't already talked about...

Age 5: my stupid brother and his stupid neighborhood friends gang up and make one of them (the one I kind of had a crush on) kiss me on the nose. It was truly the most embarrassing moment of my childhood. The friends moved away a few years later but we had a reunion of sorts when I was in high school, and they all still remembered that day. Niiiiiice.

Age 11: my friend and I convince our 65-year-old Sunday School teacher to take us to see Top Gun after she suggests a social outing. She took us. All-around embarrassing hilarity ensued.

Age 17: I get called to the principal's office for the first time ever. The principal reprimands me for one of the items in my senior will, a direct quote from Lord of the Flies dedicated as an inside joke to my friend who shared a year of an absolutely intolerable teacher of otherwise excellent English literature with me. Long preposition-free story short, because lord knows I used enough in that last sentence, the principal calls my mom who's all "yeah, it's from A BOOK, can I go back to work now?", and then the AP English teacher responsible for editing the senior wills says the same thing, and later leaves a copy of said book in his inbox with a curt "suggested summer reading" note. And yes, hilarity ensued. (Even more hilarity ensued when he got fired a few years later for boinking the school secretary. But that's a story for his personal timeline.)

Age 19: drink five or seven too many Malibu & cokes (heavy on the Malibu) with my friend on the ferry from England to Ireland, spend half the night puking and the other half wishing we could puke, get picked up by my friend's cousin who drives like a banshee for about an hour straight to the local pub where Ireland is playing the US for the World Cup, wish we could puke the whole time... Hilarity finally ensues when we proceed to get good-naturedly ribbed while Ireland pummels the crap out of the US. Those Irish are good peeps. I need to go back.

Age 20: finally have a profound experience with a college professor. Wait, that sounds wrong. Finally have a brilliant, insightful, inspiring college professor who challenges me to push myself father than I want to go. (Educationally. Just to clarify.)

And after that, you pretty much know the story... or there's nothing to tell. One or the other.

Are you as bored with this magic book goal as I am?

Holy crap, we are well into August.

I'd better get cracking on the magic book goal... Idea #44 is about collections.

In my younger days I was horribly sentimental. Someone in my family (either my grandma or my dad) started a bell collection for me, so everywhere I went I had to get a bell to commemorate the occasion. I had three shoe boxes of high school notes passed between me and my friends, complete with code names for all the boys we liked. I had 15 photo albums. I had crusty stuffed animals I'd loved as a kid. And the cat stuff. Good lord, the cat stuff.

I got rid of the bell collection somewhere around the start of my emo phase in 11th grade, but in college I really cleaned up. I threw away almost all of the old notes. I put all my photos in those three shoe boxes instead and got rid of the photo albums. I tossed or gave away the stuffed animals (except Snoopy of course). I finally convinced everyone to STOP. WITH. THE. CAT. STUFF. ALREADY.

I changed a lot in college, and I think that's where the purging instinct came from - I just didn't want to be reminded of that person anymore. (I think it also had to do with space. I go home now and my room is so tiny. I can't imagine where I kept all that stuff.)

There is one item I've kept over the years: concert tickets. I probably have a hundred in my possession, there are probably another 20-30 that I've lost over time, and another 20-30 shows I've seen that didn't require tickets. I turned this into an art project a few years ago but kept all the original stubs intact. It's interesting to look back every now and then and remember who I was with and where my head was at the time (and hopefully, how far I've come since then).

Like, I can't find my Primus ticket stub, but I know I saw them at The Citadel right around the time I saw these guys:
I went with two high school friends and was just exiting my pop music phase in favor of "alternative rock." The concepts of pogo and mosh were new to me, so this was a really fun show. One of my friends lent me his cool ear clip. It fell off somewhere between the pogo-ing and the moshing and we stayed for an hour after the show trying to find it (I think it had sentimental value to him). I still feel bad about that.

(This is also the earliest ticket stub I have. Sadly, I did not keep the New Kids on the Block stub from 1990. That probably would've been worth something today. Parents - hold on to that Hannah Montana crap! You just never know.)

This show took place around the middle stages of my college grunge phase, on the evening of the day Kurt Cobain was found dead:
Ten thousand angsty kids, candles and lighters all over the place, band members feeling the need to say something significant without even having time to process this news themselves - good times! Seriously though, I will never forget how I felt that night. A different kind of intense that I will probably never feel again.

And then there was the early-20s moody phase which lingers to this day. I've weaseled my way up to the front of the crowd many a time, but I've only lined up outside about 90 minutes in advance of the show once, and that was for this show:We were front and center, leaning on the stage, ten feet from the band. Probably not coincidentally, this is also where I fell in love with Grant Lee Phillips. So did the two straight guys I went with.

My first show at the legendary Fillmore:
I've probably seen these guys 15 times over the years. The crowd gets older, but the music never gets old.

And the list goes on and on.

I've gotta start seeing more live music. Granny tendencies be damned.

A real public service announcment on soy.

Too much soy is bad for you. So said my doctor yesterday. Then she echoed this guy's comment that "miso, natto and tempeh are also OK, but avoid tofu." And then she added, "and edamame is the worst." (No, edamame is the best, silly! Tempeh is the worst!)

By "too much," she said that once or twice a week is fine, but that I should stick with legumes and nuts the rest of the week for protein.

What. The. Hell. What's a vegetarian to do? I don't like beans that much.

I haven't found a credible source of information online yet, unless you count the guy's article entitled "Soy is making kids 'gay'!" (I don't.) Or all the blogs that say "my trusted source told me..." (I don't. People reading: don't call this post "trusted information.") And I'm running out of time this morning. I smell a lunchtime google.

Regardless, I suspect in a week soy will be the bee's knees again. But just in case, I'm letting that tofu in my refrigerator marinate in its Mediterranean spices for another day instead of having it for dinner twice in a row.

________________
If anyone out there finds a credulous source for this information please post it here, thanks!

Another public service announcement.

Looks like they will also be Blue Rooming the Outside Lands Music & Arts festival, which features an impressive lineup as well. This time, I am on email alert. Ready and waiting. For Radiohead. In Golden Gate Park. After dusk. Fucking beautiful, this interweb shit.

But all this makes me wonder - will they soon be streaming Bumbershoot? The Bridge School show? Coachella? Will I, maybe someday soon, be able to "go to" South By Southwest without leaving the comfort of my living room?

Part of me isn't sure how I feel about that. The other part is already planning to call in sick... and wondering when I will have to start paying for this newfound voyeurism.

Idea #32: break it off.

Idea #32 in the magic book is about relationship deal-breakers. So, in the interest of achieving a September goal, here are mine. Probably no surprises.

1. Jealousy. I dated a guy for waaaaaaay too long who was very jealous of my guy friends. My guy friends who I'd known forever who I had no romantic inclinations toward. He threw me a surprise 21st birthday party, invited my guy friends, then got into a big fight with me during the party because I had so many guy friends. Well duh, you invited them, you moron. I'm actually embarrassed to think about how long I dated him. And I'm certainly not going to admit it.
   
2. Cheating. I had this happen to me once and it's an awful feeling. I also did this once and later hated myself for it. (I was young and stupid... people have done worse things when they were young and stupid.) It ended the relationship, which in the end was probably not a terrible thing, but it's still fairly unforgivable and I'll never do it again, nor will I tolerate it again.
3. Cat intolerance. One guy I dated briefly couldn't stand the fact that my cats slept on the bed at night. Um, yeah. Buh-bye.
4. Hardcore addiction of any sort (drugs, gambling... skiing... you know). I've never been in this situation but I've seen enough Interventions to know that this would not be good for me.
5. Guys in bands. Been there, done that, no thanks. I love music but I will never again date a musician.
   

This assumes we actually make it to the dating phase though. I've got mad Chandler Bing tendencies that stop relationships dead in their tracks before they even start. Any little quirk like nail-biting, insisting Rambo is the best movie ever, quoting Tolkien too much, bringing me flowers or repeatedly doing terrible impersonations of celebrities might be an immediate deal-breaker.

Friendship deal-breakers are a whole other story. For another time. Until then, what are your relationship deal-breakers, single peeps?

Public service announcement.

Lollapalooza streamed live online this year.

Unfortunately, I only found this out today at 3:30pm, so I missed Rogue Wave, Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks, Bloc Party, Mates of State, Wilco, the Go! Team, Jamie Lidell and Broken Social Scene. So in other words, all the good stuff.

But Love & Rockets at 6:15pm should be amusing. And over by 7:15pm. Hooray for west coast living!

If I click "read more," will it tell me...

... why people who like Poop Freeze "might also like" the Butter Keeper?

Perhaps it's best left to the imagination.

One shy of a late Friday five.

Four movies I've seen lately, in no particular order:

• Diggers: I really, really, really liked this movie. Really. It's charming and witty and outright funny at times. Sort of the Big Chill for my generation, except set in the 70's and without the cool soundtrack. And Paul Rudd doesn't hurt its case. (I {heart} Paul Rudd.) Seriously though, really good movie.
  
• Winter Passing: This movie left me wondering why I haven't seen every single movie Ed Harris has ever made. And then I remembered that he was in National Treasure 2, and my wonder was resolved. (Other than that one I'm doing pretty good on the Ed Harris IMDB list though.) Anyway. Another very good movie. Stellar cast and Will Ferrell's small part is priceless. Bonus: the soundtrack for this movie made up for the lack of great soundtrack for Diggers. I found some songs on iTunes and I'll be hunting the whole soundtrack down soon.
  
• First Snow: I was intrigued by the premise (psychic future telling), the writer (same guy who brought you Children of Men, which, if you haven't seen - OMG SEE IT), and the non-lead cast members (William Fichtner, JK Simmons). The lead was Guy Pearce. I keep hoping for a repeat performance of Memento, and I never get it. This movie turned into an ironing movie. So, in other words, meh.
  
• The Dark Knight: Truth be told, I'm not a Batman fan. I think it's because when I was 14, I babysat Satan's offspring who was only allowed to watch Sesame Street and Batman reruns (the original, old school, Adam West KAPOW ZOWIE show) so I have bad associations with Batman. Plus they keep switching out the Batmans, and it's never clear whether he's good or bad in the public's eye, and it just gets so tiresome to keep up with. I've only seen one other Batman movie and that would've been the 1989 one where Jack Nicholson played the Joker. On the other hand, I am a Christopher Nolan fan (see Memento comment above), and a Heath Ledger fan, and a Christian Bale fan. And a Michael Caine fan and a Morgan Freeman fan. So you would think all that would equal me loving this movie. Yeah... Not so much. Ledger stole the show for sure, I really only enjoyed the scenes he was in - but Oscar worthy? I don't know about all that. And $7 worthy? Nope.
  

Two thoughts.

Hedgehogs are weird.

The "dancing plague" is weirder.