Thursday, September 30, 2010

SkyNet Football 2010 Kickoff

Brothers, Sisters, and Friends of the Revolution,

The opening kickoff of Football Season is about eight days away, and the Envelope of Financial Loyalty has about four donations in it. None of them is mine, so once again I wave gleefully from my glass house at all the black kettles out there. Being responsible for the payouts more so than soundbite commentary, however, my money is already in the bank.

SkyNet may be weakened with the age and the economy, but it's not dead. A couple dozen (ok, 22) of the faithful have already committed their lives, fortunes, and sacred honor to the prospect of having El Commissionero Magnifico memorialize their victory with a customized logo on the website.

And the money.

It's not all about the money, but a 2x3 picture lampooning your team name is not a straight up exchange for sacred honor, am I right?

(Incidentally, I have contacted the Half-brothers, Stepsisters, and Acquaintances of the Revolution that perch precariously on the fence, and have questioned both their heritage and physical prowess in respectful but stern tones. Feel free to prod them.)

But, the way I see it, usually through the bottom of a Double Old Fashioned tumbler of sturdy weight, it's time to revisit the awesome power of a SkyNet Football Season. You've competed in the past -- heIIfire, some of you have taken home some victory biscuits from this thing! You know what's it's like to commit to the study, the research, the stringent training; to have the wind at your back, whipping through your kilt and blowing your hair about as you raise your sword aloft and yell, "UNLEASH THE UNDERDOGS OF WAR! ... um, except for the Colts, they'll cover."

If you are going to be in this thing, then pony up the 88 units because you crave the fight, you know the teams, you know the games, and you know that this is your year.

And, deep down, because you want the kilt and the sword.

88 cash, at your earliest convenience,
El Commissionero Magnifico

PS. I'm out next week. Indulgences will be granted.

PPS. I changed the tiebreaker rules. Total game wins now trumps key picks. It's the Montione-Morris Resolution.

SkyNet Football 2009 Kickoff

Brothers, Sisters, and Friends of the Revolution,

Did you SEE the number of misspellings and missed words in my last email? Sweet Soloman on a Skateboard, if the only WiFi available is at a bar, it's probably wise to hold off on serious communiques until one is back to the mainland before typing.

Or one might proofread, but El C does not have the time or inclination for that. When you're living a Buffett song, up to and including white liquors AND a vicious Krugeresque cut on the heel, there's just no room in the day. Take the pearls I cast, and fill in the blanks.

So, um, make some picks this week. Before you do, don't forget to make a little drop by the Styx Marina to pay the boatman for this season's journey. I suppose I might rage and rant against the kind of sub-lamprey sludge that defers payment until after the first couple of weeks just, you know, to see if a win will make it unnecessary -- but you are my people, and I know that is not the kind of ilk that would include any of you. You know good and well that no one gets paid out until everyone pays in, and you're all well above lampreys on the evolutionary scale. I've seen you use tools to open beers.

So far, 24 people are in the game. I'd like to crest thirty so that payouts are more attractive; so put the appropriate pressure on people like Sheets and MonTony, Matchete and Coach CT, and other legacy players that have yet to respond to the siren call. Put the appropriate pressure on each other to pay in a timely and accurate manner.

But enough about the icky financial aspect of the business. Football, tailgating, chicken wings, jeans, firepits, and frolicking in an unmade bed full of gambling winnings -- these are the things that the season has brought us, and let us be joyful in them.

El Commissionero Magnifico

SkyNet Football 2009 Invite

Brothers, Sisters, and Friends of the Revolution,


You know the drill: pay money, make picks, watch season fritter away without a win, promise to do better next year.


Well, it's "next year" already. So raid your couch cushions, your car ashtrays, the need-a-penny-take-a-penny cups at Kwik-ee-Mart, and the nearby tables of inattentive waitresses.


Despite the breadlines, battered fedoras, and getting some of that free guv'ment gravy, the recent economic downturn has had no effect on SkyNet's demand for your tribute.

Got to be in it to win it. Got to pay $88 to be in it. You can make the algebraic link.

As duly self-appointed representative, you can pay me. Soon, por favor. The opening kickoff date is barreling down on us like Kate Gosselin on a chance to give a quote to Entertainment Tonight.


El Commissionero

Monday, February 2, 2009

25 Random Things

There's a Facebook chain posting where you write 25 random things about yourself, thereby allowing all your friends to peer through a little window into your world. Here's mine.

25 random things

1. The revelation of Things to others, however random, is a TOTAL violation of my Show No Weakness policy. What if you people spot some kind of Balkan soft underbelly and attack?!?! I guess you can decode this one as an admission that I am aggressively defensive, not comfortable with criticism (however constructive) and can't have honesty without a punchline to defuse it.

2. I love movies. I have been to Sundance twice, have Netflix and two movie channels, will watch anything anytime, am a standard go-to for the answer to entertainment questions, and have a standing self-bet that I can name any movie that shows on TV between the time it starts and the time the title rolls.

3. Sadly, I don't really understand "sports". Thingy in the goal. Thingy over the line. Go for two. Don't block in the back? Whatever.

4. Ironically, I am El Commissionero Magnifico of illegal gambling pools on football, basketball, and even baseball. Turns out, you don't have to appreciate sports to appreciate the rewards of gambling thereupon.

5. I use a lot of words. It's what I do.

6. My first car was a Honda Prelude. Wrecked it. My second car was a Datsun 280Z. Wrecked it. My third car was a Jeep Cherokee. Drove it until it smelled funny. Thus begat the Bronco era, as fondly and incorrectly remembered as the Antebellum South.

7. My dog is my boy. He was a handful of heartbeat and fur about 12 years ago; and now, much older, he still limps to meet me at the door every day. He's sullen, bitter, distrusting, gregarious, loving, carnivorous, agedly unathletic, selectively friendly, occasionally enthusiastic, perpetually hopeful, and always thrilled to see his friends. I don't know where he gets it.

8. Underneath the house freaks me out more than any other thing. My greatest fear is knee-walking under there on some critical home maintenance mission, rising up between two floor joists, and come down wearing a spiders' nest like an Afro.

9. I lettered in High School. In Quiz Bowl. Two years. Captain of the team. My letter has no football, no winged track foot -- it's a lamp of knowledge. Try using that to meet chicks. For best results, try using more words. You may need to supplement this with financial success or frequent gymnasium visits.

10. My grandmother owned a business, survived a mass murder, cared for my grandfather through MS and cancer, became a sad alcoholic, and died with Alzheimer's in a nursing home with no memory or property. She taught me two things on purpose: (1) you're going to meet a lot of people you don't like and you better get used to it, and (2) wear a towel when you walk from the bathroom to the bedroom; it's just basic courtesy. She taught me another thing by observation: Life sure is complicated... full of love and hurt and loss and forgiveness, but mostly complicated.

11. I wish I were a fireman. I have the helmet, and you know I can get the mustache.

12. I wish I could drive my car like a stuntman. Actually, I already do; I just wish I had formal training and a certificate to give the authorities.

13. I wish I did something that was worthwhile. I admire people that put it all out there, and I guarandamntee you they aren't in Global Financial Investment Marketing Service Management.

14. There's nothing I admire more than Cleverness, nothing I detest more than Lack of Consideration. I'm looking at you, person having loud conversation on cell phone.

15. While not strictly "scared" of children, since they don't build nests in the crawl space, I am not entirely comfortable around them. Their noises are not pleasing to the ear, their hands are often smeared with jelly and snot, and I was once bitten by a toddler. If you know how tall a toddler is, and what sensitive area is about teeth-tall on a man, you can calculate exactly how wary I am now.

16. I married my high school sweetheart. She is my most trusted partner in crime and confidence, my best audience, my favorite performer, my keeper and my responsibility, my challenge, my support, and the one I love most clumsily but purely. She does not High Five.

17. I own a reasonable number of firearms, and can use them. I count among my proudest moments the time I took Dad shooting, and he turned to say, "You're really good."

18. I can make linguine alla puttanesca really, really well.

19. Skynet rules.

20. "Good things happen to net givers."

21. I like to watch people smile, when their eyes crinkle at the corners. People with experience laughing are good people.

22. "I was gonna" is no longer part of my Library of Excuses. Either make the mix tape, or don't.

23. Every voicemail message my mother leaves is always to the maximum of three minutes, and devotes at least one minute to the weather conditions of the recent week. I cannot find the "skip ahead" command. One day, this statement will make me sad.

24. I don't want to be excluded, yet I do not like to be discussed.

25. I will help you move, for beer. I will help you move the body, for whatever reason that's important to you. Friendship is more than Christmas cards, bub.

Saturday, January 31, 2009

Sundance, the last, a week late

Having been out of Utah for a week, I feel the wave of enthusiasm for anything I may have to say about Sundance may have crashed and receded.

Being habitually disinterested in whether others have an interest in what I'm saying, however, I press on (as is my way).

When last we spoke, I had soothed my aching knees with some freely-applied general anaesthetic at a random sponsor party on the way home from snowboarding. It was held a ski shop just across the lot from our accomodations. The couch made of solid ice and covered by a fur throw caught my eye, as did the buckboard full of rye whisky, campfire, and martinis filled via ice luge. Inside, they had beer, models in ski togs, stacks of food -- and not crappy Costco heat-em-ups either -- and an acoustic band. There was a raffle with a bajillion prizes, but sadly, the gods of good fortune smiled only enough to grant me the cocktails and sammiches. I really wanted those Skullcandy headphones, you know, for my DJ'in' and such. The band, incidentally, did a version of "Leaving on a Jet Plane" that was somewhere between smoky and folksy; and while my appreciation may have been fueled by free Steinlager, handfuls of gratis canapes, and the fact the two lead singers were hot girls, it really did stop me in my tracks. We'll file that event under S for Serendipity.

Friday morning required more coffee, so we hit Starbucks because we (a) embrace their version of accessible consumerism and (b) still have some gift cards to use. This gave us the last celebrity sighting of the week: Paul Mitchell, the hirsute hair styling guy. I gave his wife some Splenda, so I'm pretty sure he owes me a wash-n-cut.

We saw "Big Fan" at 8:30 am. If you are a Giants fan, it's a must-see. If you are a football fan, it's a must-see. If you have ever called into a sports radio station at midnight to bust balls, you might be a Yankee, and it's a must see. I liked it, but I was conflicted by the representation of the protagonist as a loser because he watched the home games on TV in the tailgate parking lot instead of going to the game. One member of the audience commented to the director how shockingly unbelievably funny this was, and we slunk a little further down in our seats. We smirked, but we slunk.

After that, we saw "The Yes Men Fix The World". Merry pranksters with deep pockets, they mock the raging injustices and stupidity of the Powerful. I can't believe they aren't in jail. They create opportunities for themselves to be invited to speak to conferences or on TV as representatives of corporations or government, then perpetrate hoaxes that are as shocking as they are poignant. They were live on the BBC pretending to represent Dow Chemical, promising to pay off all the victims of the Bhopal disaster of 1984 -- something Dow has conspicuously ignored. They made a presentation in New Orleans, purporting to be from HUD, rolling out a new program to reopen existing housing developments for immediate occupancy -- something that is necessary, but not done because there's more money in tearing them down and building new ones. It's eye-opening and invigorating to watch, but... Well, I didn't ask, but had the question, "Does this ever result in change?"

We waitlisted for "Peter & Vandy", which is a perfect combination of "About Last Night" and "Go". That is to say, it's a basic boy-meets-girl, boy-loses-girl-because-of-tirade-about-sandwich-making-protocol, boy-gets-another-chance-with-girl kind of story; but it's told out of order. You get to see them live together before you see their first date, which is kind of cool because you already know how they interact when you see them first tentatively begin to bond. Also, I learned if your Pad Thai smells funny, you should call it Poon Thai.

Afterwards, actor Jason Ritter was on stage with the writer/director and other cast members doing Q&A. One member of the audience asked, "What's your background?" He stepped up to the podium and said, "What's my background? Well, bricks, wood, a really huge screen..." Everybody looked at him like he'd just quoted a Pakistani poet in the original language. He paused and gestured behind him -- brick wall, wood trim, and the huge movie screen we'd just watched. His timing was impeccable, and totally juxtaposed the pretensiousness of the moment with pure corn. I thought that was perfect, and an indication of really good sense of humor.

We considered trying to waitlist into "Dead Snow", a midnight showing of a movie about Nazi zombies in the Alps. I was willing to risk the nightmares, but the decision was made for us by the guy handing out the waitlist numbers. "No way." he said. "I've already given out all 150 waitlist numbers. That, and you'd look like the babysitters in that crowd." Ouch.

For dinner, we went to Pizza Beer Taco. That's not the name of the place, but it is the three neon signs in the windows. I had all three. We sat next to a guy from San Francisco in town to represent his company, Scenechronize. I checked it out online later -- pretty cool.

Why can't every day be filled with pizza beer taco conversations with people doing cool movie things?

Friday, January 23, 2009

Sundance recs

After some great discussion with Lynn, I think we can add "Arlen Faber" and "World's Greatest Dad" to the list of you-need-to-see's. You need to be a grown-up, and open-minded; but after hearing her analysis, I'm convinced.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Catchup

"Adventureland" is "Superbad" without the fat curly-haired kid (the sample-sized Seth Rogan). It's not profane, it's kind of cool to watch -- particularly if you are a fan of the Replacements, Lou Reed, or 1987. Ryan Reynolds plays against type, Bill Hader and Kristen Wiig stay thankfully in the background, and Kristen Stewart is now on my List. It'll make $33MM at the box office, but wait for the DVD.

"Cold Souls" is "Being John Malkevich", but creates some really good questions about the nature of the human soul. Lynn liked it; I think, "Eh."

Okay -- today is Thursday, and while I beat my knees into gravy while snowboarding, Lynn went to THREE movies without me. She got to watch Bobcat Goldthwait do Q&A after watching his new movie, "World's Greatest Dad", which is a pitch black comedy and apparently pretty good. She got to sit next to the director of a documentary about Up With People, and got a Chapstick with a fuzzy head on it. She also saw "Arlen Faber" and something about tween girls ("Don't Ever Change"?), but liked WGD the best -- ask her for details. Three movies in eight hours -- she's a pro.

But on my walk home, I passed a ski shop that was hosting a party with free food and free booze.

I win.