Eulogy for a Ghostbuster

Harold Ramis was an actor, director, writer, and of course a fellow human being, but some people may wonder why I would chose to memorialize a man I never met. After all he was just another Hollywood guy, right? Why should I be so touched by the lose of another actor? I didn't even bat an eyelash when Philip Seymour Hoffman died. I never spent an entire blog post going on about Nelson Mandela, not that he didn't deserve it, but Ramis was something special in my life. He wrote such classics as Caddyshack, Stripes, National Lampoon's Vacation, and the true masterpiece: Groundhog's Day, but what he will always be remembered for (in my mind) is his work on Ghostbusters, both as a writer and actor. That movie influenced me, which is a realization that I don't think I even thought about until I read the news of his death.

Ghostbusters was a hallmark in my mind, and it went beyond the Saturday morning cartoon, the Ecto Cooler, the action figures (I still have the ghostbusters' firehouse stored in my parent's attic,) to something deeper. Ghostbusters is the first movie I ever saw in a movie theater, (admittedly it was probably Ghostbusters II, because I wasn't even one year old by the time the first movie came out,) but going to that theater with my parents remains one of my earliest memories as a child. It was literally, the earliest nerdy thing I ever did. It was also pretty cool that the first movie my parents brought their young child to see was rated PG, (but for the record I was very well behaved and I promise I was not one of those children.) The sexual innuendo went over my head at the time, but that was fine. It gave me something to enjoy later, as an adult... I'm digressing.

To my child's mind the movie was perfection. It was funny, filled with action, and even a bit scary, but it was the good kind of the scary. It was the kind of scary where you knew everything would be okay, because as bad as the ghosts were, there were people who existed to combat them and keep you safe. That's a good feeling to have as a little kid. When I was scared at night in my room I used to look at my plastic proton pack, and it helped made me feel braver. If there were evil things that existed out there then I was sure that there were also good people who existed to fight them, (and not that I fully realized or articulated this at the time, but) it was a fact made even better because the Ghostbusters weren't highly trained experts, they were blue-collared guys, like me, and like my parents.

Memorial outside of Hook & Ladder 8 in Lower Manhattan,
the firehouse used as the Ghostbusters' headquarters. The
fire station also hung a Ghostbusters sign  on the exterior,
in honor of the passing of Harold Ramis.

I think that comes down the the crux of my love of Ghostbusters. That movie holds a special place in my heart, not just because it was fun and funny, but because it was a moment of bonding for me and my parents. The Ghostbusters represented the everyman who could stop all those terrifying things that go bump in the night. They weren't perfect, but that didn't matter. They were heroes who kept me safe, like my parents. My mom and dad aren't superheroes like Batman, ninjas like the Mutant Turtles, or even highly trained soldiers like the members of GI Joe, (all were heroes of my childhood.) They were just regular people who did the best they could given their circumstances, and when they told me everything was going to be okay, or that there were no monsters in my closet, I believed them. The world seemed better because they were there to protect me, and knowing that made me feel braver. Harold Ramis gave me that precious memory, that long lost day of parental bonding. Maybe that is why, when I read the news of his death, I was struck by it.

Yes it is true, that he and I never formally made the acquaintance of one another, but I am still grieved by his passing, (69 was too young, though comedically appropriate.) And, I don't think my situation is unique, as evidenced by the out pouring on Facebook. So that is why I choose to eulogize this legend of comedy. He may not have done the type of things that Nelson Mandela did, but you don't always need to be a freedom fighter to touch people's lives. Harold Ramis touched my life. Egon Spengler was a part of my childhood, a part of my relationship with my parents, a part of how I defined myself, (the heroic nerd,) and for that I will never be able to find the words to say thank you.

Ten Word We Need in English

I have had many careers in my time, but first and foremost the English language has always been my craft. I am a wordsmith, a grammatist, and a conjugate-keeper, if you will. I have both studied and taught the use of my native tongue, so if there is anyone qualified in any sort of way to offer suggestions for improving, I can't think of anyone better, (Well maybe Chaucer, but he's been a bit unavailable since his death in 1400 A.D.) So without further adieu (my favorite English word,) I give you my suggestions for new English words:

Gigil - Filipino

This word describes the urge you have to touch, pinch, or basically fondle anything that is cute and cuddly. I'm talking rabbits, puppies, kittens, etc. The only drawback is that it sounds too much like giggle or jiggle, (which is somewhat appropriate) so it would have to be pronounced like Ji-jil.

EXAMPLE: I have a gigil for that puppy.

Lagom - Swedish

There is no exact equivalent of this in English. It's when something is not too much of one thing or not too much of another. Something that sits in that sweet spot, not too sour or too sweet. It's like Goldilocks' porridge, just right. English speakers would probably pronounce it la-gom.

EXAMPLE: That movie was lagom, it had just enough action and just enough plot.

Layogenic - Ghanian

The word sounds more like an SAT word than it really is. It means a person who is attractive from far away, but ugly up close. (Good from far, but far from good.) What I really like about this word is that it makes a certain amount of sense, English-wise. It sounds like photogenic but ironically kind of means the opposite.

EXAMPLE: Here comes, Jenny. Try to keep a hundred feet back from that layogenic woman or you'll regret it.

Tartle - Scots

This one is just fun to say. It is meant to represent that moment of panicked hesitation when you try to introduce someone to someone else, but you have completely forgotten their name. It's meant to be onomatopoeic, but in English I think we could do a lot more with it, such as using it as a verb and a noun.

EXAMPLE 1: John forgot Sally's name, and here comes the moment of tartle.

EXAMPLE 2: Crap, I forgot Sally's name and I completely tartled that introduction.

Backpfeifengesicht - German

This mouthful of a word basically means a person's face that's worthy of being punched. (Yeah, you got to love the Germans.) However, I can't even begin to pronounce it and though I love the concept we are going to need to cut it down for practical usage. I propose we shorten it to backfef. Its simple, short, and even a bit harsh on the tongue, perfect for doing what the German language does best, express anger at another human being.

EXAMPLE: David is such a backfef. I'd love to knock out his perfect teeth.

Nunchi - Korean

A nunchi is someone who is very aware of their social surroundings. They are keenly aware of what the right and wrong things are to say in a given social context. They pick up on social clues and use them to their advantage, thus minimizing the risk of becoming a backfef. It is both a person and a social instinct.

EXAMPLE: Robert showed he was a real nunchi by having nunchi and not making that sexist joke in front of Karen.

Age-otori - Japanese

This hyphenated word of wonder has quite a simple meaning. You know that feeling when you go and get a haircut and afterwards you look in the mirror and you look worse than your did before you got your haircut? Well that is Age-otori, but for English we will need to bastardize it, (as we so often do.) So let's change it to ageo (pronounced: ag-eo).

EXAMPLE: Damn, that barber really gave you an ageo. You should get your money back.

Espirit d'escalier - French

This complicated French word describes the moment when you think of the perfect comeback for someone who has insulted you, only its like two hours later and no one cares anymore. This one will definitely have to be shortened as most English speakers (especially Americans,) can barely say croissant without hacking up a lung. So let's go with escalier, since it sort-of means bottom or after.

EXAMPLE: That's good, but it's been like ten minutes. Aren't you a little escalier with that insult?

Culaccino - Italian

This is just a simple word to describe something we see everyday, that little wet circle that gets left on a table after you move a drink. It baffles me that English has yet to come up with a concise word for that phenomenon/mess. The best we have is, "that wet circle that your cup left on the table."

EXAMPLE: Josh, use a coaster, you left a culaccino on my coffee table... again.

Desenrascanco - Portuguese

This is my new favorite word of all time. It basically means to jury-rig some improvised device or plan. It literally means to put something together from whatever you have lying around in order to solve a problem, (So yeah, McGyver.) it would need to be shortened. I like the sound of rascanco.

EXAMPLE: I have a paperclip, a cigarette, and a rubber band, but I think I can rascanco something up to get out us out of this locked prison cell.

BONUS WORD: Pilkunnussija - Finnish

Do you know someone who has to go out of their way to correct your grammar, spelling, punctuation, etc, even at the cost of their own popularity with people? Well you have just met a pilkunnussija. Now unlike the other words on this list, I don't think we should bastardize this word at all. After all, if someone wants to be an unpopular grammar Nazi, then they deserve every last Finnish consonant they get.

EXAMPLE: I know grammar is spelt with an "ar" at the end, you Pilkunnussija!

America the Ugly

Beat it! Beat it! Oh, God, beat it till it stops moving!

Far be it for me to beat a dead horse, (except if it is one of those undead horses that hungers for flesh, then by all means we should beat that hell-beast back to the fire pits of Hades from whence it came,) but after my long hiatus I have had a few things on my mind that I want to get off my chest, (mind-chest?) So with the fact, that this week Congress has basically announced that they will once again fail to move on any sort of meaningful immigration reform, it seems as good a time as any to look at the multicultural identity of America and the soft drink that is cashing in on it.

This year during the Super Bowl one particular ad seemed to blow everyone away, Coca Cola's America the Beautiful. I remember seeing the advertisement and the sum of my reaction was, "Oh, that's kind of sappy. Is there anymore pulled pork?" I barely noticed the thing, because by my standards the commercial was... well pretty standard. Scenes of American landscapes entwined with a rainbow parade of people and cowboy hats. Heck we might as well have had a bunch of celebrities come out and sing, we are the world... which probably wouldn't have bothered people as much, provided they sung it in English. It wasn't till the next day when I found out about the incredibly close-minded backlash people had against the commercial.

Twitter is both a blessing and curse, but sometimes more a curse. Not only does it give a venue and voice to any Tom, Harry and Dickish person who wants to spout nonsense and vileness, but it allows them to conveniently hashtag their idiocy so those those disparate voices can raise together, like a wave of crap that drowns out small villages and quiet pastures. Most of these Twitter offenders came off sounding more stereotypically bigoted than 90% of white men in a Spike Lee movie. (Is that statement racist, or just dated?) Worst of all, the news media (being what it is) further promoted the idiot speech by airing it on TV. I, however, refuse to repeat most of the trash said, but sufficed to say it was ugly, embarrassing, and filled with outrage over the fact that America the Beautiful was not sung in English, despite the fact that most of those offended Tweeters failed to use proper English themselves.

I could go on and talk about how people who make these kind of ignorant and hate-filled statements forget the principles on which America has always survived (freedom, diversity, immigration;) or I could bring up the fact that English is not our official language, (only 80% of Americans speak it as their primary language. The US has never had an official language;) or that English is not this land's first language either, (I'm sure the Navajo or the Cherokee were just as mad when our ancestors arrived and started singing their sacred songs in English;) or that the song itself was written by a lesbian, (I have no snide comment for that one. It's just kind of cool,) but instead I want to try and understand their fear... and yes it is fear.

America is changing radically, and that scares a lot of people, if only because the change is inevitable. By 2042 the US Census Bureau estimates that Americans that identify themselves as Hispanic, black, Asian, Native American, Pacific Islander, etc will out number the population of "White Americans," in the United States. According to the New York Times, Protestants are now a minority religion in the country, and a full one-third of people under the age of 30 no longer associate themselves with any organized religion at all. States are ratifying gay and lesbian marriages quicker than falling dominoes and now we even have two states that have legalized marijuana. Combine this with the fact that China is poised to take our place as the next global economic superpower and  the rise of joint-European power, anyone who clings to the old ideals of a 1950's-like America, has to be pretty freaked out. They can see the light coming at the end of the tunnel and as far as they are concerned, it's an onrushing train coming to shatter everything they believe and hold dear.

Because Dolphin-Americans have a voice too.

Progressives and younger generations tend to look at these people and laugh because it seems absurd that they would find fault with something as simple as a song sung in several languages in a soft drink commercial, but to the conservatives and the hold-outs its just another sign of what they fear, change. So they do what all humans do when confronted with their fears, they laugh at it, they mock it, they deny it, they stand stubbornly against it, and all in the hopes to minimize it and maybe even get it to go away. Unfortunately for them, its not going away. This change is more inevitable that that penny I get whenever I buy 99 cent milk, but that is fortunate for all of us whether we know it or not.

The United States will survive, not despite our multiculturalism, but because of it. Think about it this way: Thanks to our influx of immigrants by 2050 the 16 to 64 age group is expected to grow 42%, (that's about 350 million people) even when at the same time other developed nations such as those in Europe and East Asia will have more than a third of their population over the age of 65. In other words, when countries like China, Japan, Germany, Russia, etc have a majority of their population who is no longer able to work, America will still have a vibrant and young workforce. That's good, because with a large youth population comes not just a young workforce, but change, innovation, and the ability to make our world better.

America has always been a place of change and growth. Right now we are stuck in a cycle of anger and frustration, class inequality, immigration disputes, an entrenched political system, and so much more. (And, in a lot of ways, that tastes sourer than 99 cent milk.) Our very definitions are changing as we redefine things like marriage or copyright or patriotism, and that scares some people a lot, (and probably a lot of people some.) That is natural, but we need to find a way to cope with our fears instead of taking to social media to spew off the first nasty thought that comes to mind. That serves no other purpose than to cast a shadow on all of us. We will continue on and we will continue to prosper, believe it or not. It's not an easy road in front of us, we have a lot of work to do and more than a few fights ahead of us, but also some joys, and one of those is the joy of a refreshing Coca Cola, because regardless of what side of this argument you are on, let's face it, Coke is the winner. We are still talking about their commercial, after all.

A Hi and Lo-atus

To see all the helmets visit the original Imgur Site

Hello everyone, I am back from my hiatus and just in time to wish my congratulations to all my fellow nerds and nerdettes in Seattle. The Big (Please Don't Sue Me, NFL) Game was a terrible one by any standards, but at least I could be happy for all the cool people out in the... I want to say... "Starbucks City," who got their first championship title. Also, the real winner of the big game, in my opinion, was Stephen Colbert, but then again I find Colbert to be a winner everyday. His pistachios commercial(s) were by far the best on the air that night, at least nationally. In Georgia, some lawyer paid for a 2-minute ad spot to air the pilot trailer for his movie (i.e. law firm.) I will admit that I enjoyed the Seinfeld bit between Jerry and George, and that is only remarkable because Seinfeld has been off the air for fifteen-years and yet we still cling onto it, like a naked man clings onto a newspaper for some last nostalgic shred of decency.

Also, since my last post, Mother Nature has made a fool of me. My previous pleas for snow in the face of global warming has become somewhat laughable as I am now pleading for the snow to stop. There is so much of the damn stuff on the ground that I saw white walkers doing battle with Imperial snowtroopers as I went to work the other day. I also want to remind everyone that just because this has been a record winter doesn't mean that Global Warming is still not a thing. The trends are still rising toward warmer global climates, it is just not a steady climb. There are dips and peaks like the stock market after a drunken Tuesday.

As for my own life I took a few weeks off from writing this blog in hopes of getting some headway on my novel, but truthfully I wound up mostly just playing Assassin's Creed III. Sometimes I think it must have been so much easier to be a writer when there were no video games, but then I realize that that also means there were no computers and then I'm right back to writing on a typewriter without spell-check... So I have to recant my previous statement.

This brings me to a dilemma I have been struggling with (and excuse me for getting personal,) but lately I have begun to question myself as a writer. I am good enough to know that I am not spectacular, by any account. My spelling and grammar mistakes alone are enough to tell me that, and also I have found that I come up with really great concepts, but often lack in execution. My novel has stalled and the real reason I have not posted a blog post in the past six or seven weeks is because I have found myself running out of ideas. It has been a frustrating time for me, as writing has usually been as natural as breathing to me (which thanks to my advanced age of 30 is also becoming harder.)

For a while now I have been debating giving up the craft. It would be so much easier to not have to deal with the time commitment or the mountain of frustration I sometimes allow myself to get buried under. I could have so much more time for things like playing video games or even reading (which becomes restricted due to my writing habits.) I only allow myself to read things which might currently enhance what I am writing, which is why I haven't picked up a comic book in over a year, because I am afraid my squirrel-like mind will get so distracted with superheroes that it will pull me back into the black hole that is my pen and paper  superhero RPG rulebook. I can't let myself get distracted, but I miss comic books.

I am two hundred pages through a novel where when I look back I can't even tell if it's good or not. This could very well turn out to be another Journey Home (my 500-page young adult fiasco that probably would have been more coherent if I had given my story outline to a monkey and asked him to embellish it a bit.) With my career and personal life moving on, it is becoming harder and harder some days to put so much of myself into these two or three year projects that just end with misery. Everything I write lately feels hackneyed and insincere, like I'm just going through the motions. As of a week ago, I was ready to shut down this blog completely and call it quits, but I found something in the narcissistic and irrelevant cacophony that is Facebook that made me pause. This:

THE GAP by Ira Glass from frohlocke on Vimeo.

It is narrated by public radio host, Ira Glass, and you know what... It made me feel better. It made me feel like I wasn't alone, that everyone goes through this sort of doubt. My girlfriend also reminded me that it takes George R. R. Martin six years to write a new novel, (much to every one's frustration,) but I can understand why it takes him that long. Everyone thinks writing is just inspiration spilled onto a page. It's not. Inspiration plays its part but more often than not it is depressing, exhilarating, back-breaking soul-pouring that results in a mess of words which still require another year of editing before it even begins to sound coherent. It's a lot like shaping a sculpture from a lump of clay, except that you have to extract the clay first from your own flesh, which is something no one ever tells you.

Maybe this video is the reason why I sat down and wrote out this blog post, or maybe its because I realized that (despite everything else) I am, have, and always will be a writer at heart. It's more than how I define myself, it's how I see the world. Regardless of where I am or what my job title is, I have always labeled myself as "writer," and I don't know if I can let go of that label, maybe because its right or maybe because I'm scared to... Maybe both. Ultimately, it doesn't matter. I still have the desire and the passion for the kind of literary engineering that can only be accomplished by forming my world through the lens of the written word, because I find that writing is a lot like people. 

We are all made up of strange parts and words that function differently, limbs that move, hearts that beat, hair that grows, and memories that fill out heads, but alone they are small and empty. We carry with us a greater significance than just the sum of our parts. A story is like that. The words themselves have meaning, but the story conveys more than any solitary word ever could. A human has meaning and depth, but the sum of humanity is a story more powerful than any one person ever could be... As for my meaning, I'm a writer, and it is good to be back.

Let is Snow... Please

Winter is Never Coming

There is a small patch of snow in my driveway that I pass every morning. I am aware of this because I have slipped on it at least twice, (usually accompanied by an absurd amount of creative cursing.) However, I passed that patch this morning to find (with some regret) that it was melting. For those of you not from my neck of the woods, we had a few days of cold wintery snow that resulted in a few inches of the white stuff, just in time for Christmas, but now a heat waves has set in. Snow has turned to rain, winter jackets have turned to shorts, and last night I debated opening a window up while I slept, because it was that hot and uncomfortable. It hit a balmy sixty-five degrees.

We are a week away from Christmas and we are getting weather that I would usually be thankful for come April. In December, I am not thankful for it at all, because to me (more than any Mayan Prophecy or History Channel Special) this is a sign that our world is changing and we could be in for some big problems over the next few decades. There is almost no doubt that global warming is a "thing." In July, a piece of Antarctica the size of New York City broke off the frozen continent and is now drifting into open water. It is expected to clog shipping lanes, (something no one wants this busy holiday season.) More than the inconvenience it poses, it is also a sign of the time. Think of it this way, that piece of ice has been connected to that continent before Rome was a glimmer in the eye of Aeneas. The world is getting warmer, and if you doubt me you should know that the record high, of sixty-five degrees, only beat out the record high, of sixty-two degrees, from way back in 2011, which in turn only tied the record high set in 1923. I would not be surprised is we continue to see more record highs in the coming years, and basically that is what it boils down to.

Opponents of global warning like to point out that abnormal highs and lows are common throughout history, and that is true. However, if you look at the trends, though record lows still exist they are being overshadowed by the record highs. So in the past, where they would more or less balance each other out (2 record cold days and 2 record hot days,) now there is an increasing imbalance (2 record cold days and 4 record hot days.) It's like the imbalance in the Force that the whiney kid was supposed to fix, (and I will never understand why Qui-Gon thought it was important to bring balance to the Force when the Lightside was clearly winning. He should have left Anakin on Tatoonie.)

And speaking of desert planets, Earth's global average surface temperature rose 0.6 to 0.9 degrees Celsius (1.1 to 1.6° F) between 1906 and 2005, and the rate of temperature increase has nearly doubled in the last fifty years. More and more Americans are starting to understand that this is a serious problem. With 76% of Americans now saying that they believe that Earth's temperatures will rise in the next 100 years and 59% believing that it will be a serious problem for the human race going forward. That is great and all, but I don't see many people trying to do much about it. Sure, more and more people are turning toward green energy, but the change has been slow and thanks to big companies with a lot of money invested in old fossil fuel burning energy it has been even slower and frustrating. BP and Exxon like to try and convince us that they are doing great things for the environment, but maybe we should ask the people of the Louisiana coastline how much they would agree with that.

Look what you did... You're making Captain Planet cry.

The real truth of the matter is that no matter how aware of the problem we are becoming, we all still see it as some kind of distant thing that we might never really reach. It's a lot like trying to plan for next year's Labor Day party. It's less than a week away from Christmas. I can't think that far in advance, I need to get through what I am doing now, and if I need to use my car to hit eight different stores than so be it. I know I am hurting the world a little bit more, but I need to get my mother the right type of scented candle. Maybe the real problem is that the only reason anyone even noticed the hot weather was because of the Jet's game and the upcoming Superbowl being hosted in the NY/NJ area. Past that, no one even batted an eyelash. They were too busy worrying about who Miley Cyrus sexually assaulted this time, or what some bearded backwoods hillbilly said in GQ, (which by the way, A&E, you hired a redneck to do redneck things on TV. You shouldn't be that shocked by his comments. I mean if it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and acts like a duck, then don't be too surprised when it quacks like a duck... pun intended.)

To be perfectly honest, I am as much at fault as anyone else. I have the same blase nature, I sometimes use my car way more than I should. I even sometimes throw water bottles in the trash can because I can't find a recyclable bin, but this needs to change and the evidence for why is all around us. There is no denying it anymore, because as much as I hated that icy snowy patch in my driveway, seeing it disappear I couldn't help but wonder if I would ever see it again. This may not be the kind of post you want to read around the holiday season, but maybe this is the kind of thing we should all be thinking about, especially now. In a little over a week it will be starting a new year and with that new year, maybe its time we all took a step back and made a commitment to do what we can to halt the progress of what is (very much) slapping us in the face. Christmas will come and go, but this problem is not going away, maybe ever.

 

This will be my last post of 2013. I will be taking a little break from blogging for a few weeks. I want to wish everyone a happy and healthy holiday season. I will see you in the new year.

 

 

Ten People Who Saved Christmas

Since the holiday's inception nearly two thousand years ago many people over the ages have answered the sacred call to "save Christmas." In fact it has become somewhat of a holiday tradition to endanger the Yuletide season. Some of the people that have stepped up to the plate have been notable heroes while others just mere boys and girls. Sometimes Christmas has been saved in big ways, while sometimes it is done through small meaningful gestures. This list is in no particular order, and is arranged with no particular criteria, other than that I remember these adventures fondly. Sure, they are cheesy and predictable, but tis the season... So come with me now and honor those who gave so much for a holiday that means so much to so many people.

Honorable Mentions: Jack Skellington, KISS, a little boy with a drum, The Grinch, Timmy Turner, The Powerpuff Girls, Jesus, Batman, Jimmy Neutron, Sonic the Hedgehog, Super Mario, Space Ghost, Sabrina the Teenage Witch, Stephen Colbert (saved it for himself,) Batman (deserves two mentions), John McClane, the Power Rangers, and Santa Claus.

Bender B. Rodriguez (FUTURAMA)

In all fairness, Bender helped saved Xmas, then helped destroy it all over again, or vice versa, depending on how you want to look at it. When the Planet Express crew traps the killer Santa robot of the future in the ice of Pluto, Bender volunteers to restore the good name of Kris Kringle, and promptly dumps the majority of his toys down the sewer, to the offense of the Sewer Mutants. After some alcoholism and a police arrest, Bender is broken out of death row by the escaped Santa robot and is recruited to help him fulfill his Yuletide night of terror, thus saving Xmas, or destroying it... or something.

Episode: S03E03 A Tale of Two Santas

Best Quote: "The real Santa! Get him, Jesus!"

Ernest P. Worell (ERNEST SAVES CHRISTMAS)

Ernest is like Tyler Perry for rednecks. The befuddled titular character is taxi driver often suffering from delusions of grandeur. He gets a fare to bring Santa Claus to Orlando, Florida, so that he can track down his replacement. Santa has run out of magic and has none left for the next Christmas season. His successor is meant to replace him, but shenanigans ensue, and the appearance of some baddies mixed with Santa's unreliable memory quickly crashes the plan. Dimwitted Ernest soon becomes Santa's only hope, and along with a young runaway Ernest must save the holiday before it is too late.

Episode: Ernest Saves Christmas

Best Quote:  "Ahh, smell those Christmas trees. You can keep your 'Channel' Number 5, just give me a whiff of the old lonesome pine. That symbol of brotherly love, that centerpiece that all mankind gathers around to share the cranberry sauce shaped like a can."

The Doctor (DOCTOR WHO)

The Doctor has saved Christmas so many times it's barely worth mentioning anymore. He has saved the holiday from invading aliens, a crashing space Titanic, malicious snowmen, and even from sadness for one family in the 1940's. He has saved it in the future and in the past. He has saved it here, there, and everywhere. You could almost say that in a lot of ways we shouldn't be so worried if Santa is going to show up on December 25th, but the Doctor... because as the BBC often shows, we would be kind of screwed if he didn't

Episode: Any Doctor Who Christmas Special

Best Quote: "Ah. Yes. Blimey. Sorry! Christmas Eve on a rooftop. Saw a chimney, my whole brain just went 'What the hell!'"

GI Joe (GI JOE)

Almost all 1980's cartoons have a claim to saving Christmas in one form or another. In fact in the 80's and 90's it seemed that Santa and his holiday were perpetually in danger from evil wizards, giant robots, and all sort of villainous plots, but no story epitomizes that idea better than the time Cobra, the evil terrorist organization bent on ruling the world, released toys into the GI Joe compound that contained miniature cobra soldiers. They then take control of the base and the Joe's vehicles and use them to attack an American city just as the GI Joe's were delivering toys for needy children. Thanks in no small part to Polly, Shipwreck's parrot, who was enlarged to monstrous proportions, the Joes are able to take back their base and defeat the grinchly Cobras in time to save Christmas for small-town America, and Shipwreck learns the meaning of the holiday.

Episode: S01E39 Cobra C.L.A.W.S. are Coming to Town

Best Quote: "Shucks. We could beat them Cobra owl hoots flyin' cardboard boxes."

  

Ghostbusters (THE REAL GHOSTBUSTERS)

Unlike other 80's cartoons at the time the Ghostbusters took a different approach to the holiday, time travel. Egon, Peter, Winston, and Ray stumble through a wrinkle in time and wind up in Victorian England where they mistakenly rid Ebeneezer Scrooge of his haunting spirits and return to the present, realizing that they changed Christmas forever. Thus, they must travel back in time to impersonate the various ghosts and teach Scrooge (and by proxy Peter) the meaning of the holiday season.

Episode: S01E13 Xmas Marks the Spot

Best Quote: "It’s not my fault! I told her to keep her cat out of the way. It’s not like the fur won’t grow back or anything."

Superman (SUPERMAN)

Superman has saved everything from Lois Lane to the Universe, but in this Golden Age adventure, the Man of Steel finds himself saving Christmas from two villains named Mister Meany, and Doctor Grouch. Disgruntled at Santa's philanthropy (for reasons never fully explained) these two old men proceed to try and convince Santa to give up his ways. When that doesn't work they leave the North Pole, head to Metropolis, and decide to trash the Daily Planet's Christmas Toy Drive, because you know... villainy... The toys are saved by Superman, but then the villains return to the North Pole to try and kidnap the reindeer (in hindsight Metropolis seemed like an unnecessary stop,) they are prevented form doing so by Superman, but manage to gas the beasts, putting them to sleep, and thus it is up to Superman to fly Santa around on Christmas Eve... Also Lois gets kidnapped (twice), but Superman is so unfazed by this normal occurrence that he helps Santa deliver toys first before rescuing her. Santa gives gifts to the two villains who immediately learn the meaning of Christmas, and (as a B plot-line) Superman teaches a rich kid the meaning of giving presents on Christmas.

Episode: c.1940 Superman's Christmas Adventure

Best Quote: "Calling Superman --Santa Claus Calling-- need your help desperately!"

Dib (INVADER ZIM)

Told by a robot snowman living in a protective dome two million years in the future, we learn that the alien invader, Zim, is up to his old tricks. After abducting and interrogating a mall Santa, Zim builds a robotic Santa suit for himself that he uses to enslave the human race and force them to build a massive teleporter. The only one who realizes what is going on is Zim's next door neighbor, Dib, who attempts to stop him and is immediately thrown into Jingle Jail at the order of the new supreme ruler of the human race, Santa (aka Zim.) However, the robot suit has a mind of its own and slowly begins taking control from Zim, enhanced in power when it comes into contact with anything "Christmas-y." Eventually Dib is broken out of jail and must use his father's Anti-Santa arsenal to battle an out of control Santa mutant (as Zim is no longer in control.) Together they banish the creature to space, and Zim dressed as the Easter Platypus has the crowd blame Dib for killing Santa. We learn from our story's teller that the Santa suit was not destroyed but now returns every year to attack Earth, thus why they live in protective domes.

Episode: S01E27 The Most Horrible X-Mas Ever

Best Quote: "That's the story of the most horrible Christmas ever! But Zim and Dib were wrong that day! Santa wasn't destroyed. Santa lives on. [Child: In the hearts and minds of us all?] No! In space! Gathering power! And every Christmas he returns to Earth."

The X-Men (X-MEN

All the X-Men are at the mansion preparing for Christmas, with Jean and Gambit cooking, Beast working in the lab, and Rogue, Cyclops, and all the rest decorating the tree. Professor X and Storm watch on lovingly and Wolverine acts disgruntled. Jubilee is overly excited, this being her first Christmas with the X-Men, so she begs Wolverine to come with her and Storm on a last minute shopping trip in hopes of cheering him up. However, the trip is interrupted when Storm learns that Leech, one of the Morlocks, has fallen ill and the three rush to save him. Wolverine transfuses his own blood, Beast and Rogue are called in to help, and Jubilee meets a a young Morlock girl who shows them their meager Christmas meal and small sickly tree. Leech is eventually cured and the X-Men have dinner with the Morlocks, giving them all the presents they had just purchased.

Episode: S04E12 Have Yourself a Morlock Little X-Mas.

Best Quote: "Kid, the day you catch me singing Jingle Bells is the day pigs fly"

Earthworm Jim (EARTHWORM JIM)

Queen Pulsating, Bloated, Festering, Sweaty, Stinky, Pus-filled, Malformed, Slug-For-A-Butt, through TV, learns about Santa Claus and his power. Meanwhile, Jim and his friends are visiting the mall to meet the mall Santa Claus. Jim asks for a pony, but is interrupted when the mall Santa receives a distress calls from the real Santa through his beard. Jim, Peter Puppy, and Princess What's-Her-Name head to the North Pole to help. They find that Santa is gone. They track him to the Personifications of Abstract Concepts Club, but only find a disgruntled red-nosed reindeer. Meanwhile, the Queen tortures Santa and eventually implants a chip in his head that turns him evil, (and convinces him that Adam West was a better Batman than Val Kilmer.) The two then head to a typical Earth home to begin implanting the chips in all the children of the world, but find only Jim and company. A battle ensues and Jim pleads with Santa not to be evil. Moved by his words, the chip burns out and Santa is returned to normal. He also reveals that he is really a Norse God and then proceeds to beat the hell out of Queen Slug-For-A-Butt, and save Christmas. On Christmas morning Jim gets the pony he asked for and is flattened by a cow in a fruitcake.

Episode: S02E10 For Whom the Jingle Bells Toll

Best Quote: "Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus... and he kicks butt!"

Chuck Norris (THE INTERNET)

Chuck Norris actually saves Christmas every year, for if he didn't the Christmas Demon Krampus would arise and devour the world. Chuck Norris once went back in time and haunted Ebeneezer Scrooge as the Ghost of Christmas Roundhouse Kicks. The only reason Christmas is a silent night is because Chuck Norris kills without a sound. Santa is always watching you, but Chuck Norris just knows if you've been bad or good. The magic hat that brought Frosty to life, used to belong to Chuck Norris. Every time a bell rings Chuck Norris has made another angel. All Chuck Norris wants for Christmas is your two front teeth. The Grinch stole Christmas, then Chuck Norris kicked him so hard his heart grew three sizes that day... and exploded. When Rudolph is sick, Chuck volunteers to light Santa's way with his glowing red beard. Chuck Norris once lassoed the moon for a girl, that was how tides were created. Chuck Norris' two favorite gifts to give on Christmas are pain and justice.

Episode: The Internet

Best Quote: "The quickest way to a man's heart on Christmas? Chuck Norris' fist."

Happy Holidays

Metaphoric Exercise: Karma

Sometimes when I'm bored at work, I engage myself in stupid writing exercises... I know, I'm a nerd... Since I haven't had a lot of time to write a blog entry this week, I decided to share one of my latest exercises. Sometimes I like to take an abstract concept and a random object and do my best to link them through metaphor. Usually it is something I am looking at out a window or something sitting on my desk. It's a good way to keep my writing muscles flexed on weeks when I do less writing than I would like.

KARMA

Karma is a dog, bitten by fleas and hysterical because of it. It lashes out at the hand that hits it, as often as the hand that feeds it. It’s matted brown and white hair is caked with the tears of the unjust and the blood of the righteous. Sometimes we put it on a leash and call it domesticated, but much like a wolf in a dog park, we can never truly trust it. It will never truly belong to anyone nor can anyone call it master. It’s eyes glow in the darkness or the light, never sleeping, always stalking. It watches you as you wander blissfully down the street, all the while ignoring the old man begging for money on the corner. You may look the other way, but the flea-bitten bitch never will.

Karma is the color black. It sucks in all the light around it, giving nothing back in return, except misery and despair. No light escapes it, it is the absence of one thing, yet it is the presence of something else. Drop a little of it into any color and it will darken even the lightest, turning white to gray, pink to maroon, and a noontime sky to the darkest moonless midnight. It is not inherently evil. Instead, it is a tool, like a hammer, or a force of nature like the unforgiving justice of pollution. It takes and it gives in equal measure. It corrupts and highlights. It is balance. The text upon a page would not be visible if their black ink was not illuminated against the untouched snow of the paper. Karma is black. It is friend and foe, the absence of color, and the meshing of all colors. It is the atmosphere of nightmares and the canvas for the starry artistry of the universe.

Karma is coffee. It burns the tongues of the unwary. it is a thick steaming dark liquid caffeine capable of giving you a shot in the arm of validation or a wet burning lap of justice. Found on almost any street corner, any supermarket, or in any house, big or small, rich or poor, British or American, its tastes vary, but it remains coffee nonetheless. Its flavors are as plentiful as the stars in the sky and the peoples of the Earth. Most prefer it hot, with a quick validation, and that is how it is best recognized. Yet, others prefer it cold, believing that is the way it is best served.

Karma is my fingers upon the keyboard, fat and awkward muddling their way through, corrupting my words, changing my intentions, enhancing my messages. The mistakes are obvious and glaring, but when working properly, the finesse goes unnoticed. Success is seamless, the words upon the page appearing as if they had always belonged there, like pillars of stone upon a mountain.There is no question as to how those words were created. We assume they had always been there and always will. When Karma works it's undetectable, like oxygen. Only when we stub our toe is the invisible force made real and powerful and terrible. Only do I notice the fatness of my fingers when I mkae the misatkes that so fsutrate me.

Karma is Idaho. It sits in the middle of everything untouched by the oceans of civilization, yet somehow dependent upon it for their potato crop of justice.

Karma is like Google, it is a big unfathomable concept, that knows way too much about me. It is intrusive as it is reliable. It judges my actions and directs me to addresses it believes I should go. It is innovative, creative, and a gigantic convienent-loving, cuddly, big brother. Whether we know it or not, it controls the world, no matter how much we want to deny it. It has it darker aspects and technical difficulties, but much of that remains hidden to me. I must blindly trust in it's power, whether used fairly or not. I fear its power, yet I need it nonetheless.