Did you ever have the nightmare where you were the goat?

I love dinosaurs. I love that they are huge, I love that they are alien, and I love that I can't pronounce or remember any of their names correctly. I love them with a passion I reserve for all things much much bigger that are capable of eating me. It's survival love, Stockholm Syndrome for atheists.

But, as all of us over 20 learned from Jurassic Park, I do not want a dinosaur as a pet*. A giant red dog? Sure. But a living breathing pooping reptile who wants to eat my face and drag my body back to its eggs as baby's first kill? No.

So why are today's toy makers trying to convince children that dinosaurs are their cute cuddly friends? Are they hoping to inspire legions of future archaelogists? Are they battling creationist forces? Or are they prepping the world population for a far darker future?

Meet Pleo.
Or rather, MEET PLEO, HE IS YOUR FRIEND.



"Every Pleo is autonomous. Yes, each one begins life as a newly-hatched baby Camarasaurus, but that's where predictability ends and individuality begins. Like any creature, Pleo feels hunger and fatigue - offset by powerful urges to explore and be nurtured. He'll graze, nap and toddle about on his own -when he feels like it! Pleo dinosaur can change his mind and his mood, just as you do."

If he feels like toddling over to your bed at night and staring at you with that demonic glass gaze until you wake up and piss yourself? He will! It's cute!

Remember Furbies? Same makers and therefore it's only a matter of time before we're all telling the same story about the friend of a friend who has one installed in his computer tower. Except no one uses towers anymore, do they? So it'll be a race to see who can program their Pleo to play Wii Tennis first. Watch and be simultaneously creeped out/insane with jealousy...



But when is the best time to indoctrinate children into false hope Dinotopia? 11? 12? How about 2?

This is Kota the Triceratops. YOU CAN RIDE HIM. Well, technically he (she?) doesn't walk, but you can sit on him and pretend you are riding him. Which when you are three years old is just as good.

"It’s fossil-sized fun standing just over 2.5 feet tall. A hidden handle helps kids hold on once they climb onto the dinosaur’s back. Realistic stomping sounds add to the make-believe fun as kids bounce in place on the spring seat. Talk to KOTA the Triceratops and he roars back with expressive tail, head, eye, mouth and horn movements. Touch his nose with your hand and KOTA “sniffs” it! In fact, it’s easy to trigger all of his sensitive spots – try tickling his belly or chin to make KOTA “laugh”. And when you think this pretend dinosaur has worked up an appetite, be sure to “feed” KOTA his leafy snack – it really sounds like he’s munching on it! "



So they want us to treat dinosaurs as beings with feelings, emotions, desires. They want us to learn how feed and take care of them, to pleasure them with belly rubs? And they want children (and some older adults who shall remain nameless) to beg and cry for dinosaurs for Christmas?

I think someone's been buying up islands off the coast of Costa Rica.




*This is obviously the biggest lie I have ever told in my life.

And it will be known as The End times, when the structure of morality shall drift apart in a thousand moonpie shards. The Princess shall join a soccer team in her youth, and stand in line for 5 hours to see the 3-D Hannah Montana movie. The Prince shall apply to the Ivy Leagues, but sadly his lack of extracurricular activities will land him in a reputable state school with a decent dragon fighting team, but a really crappy cafeteria and no parking. Jack, having slain the giant but still sold the cow, will become a small time village dealer who unsuccessfully tries to medicate his deep guilt on a nightly basis. The Witch will prosper with her new 1-900 numbers and 2am commercials, hawking youth, beauty and knowledge of future grief. The Giant, as we mentioned, will be dead, leaving the kingdom vulnerable to attacks from large prehistoric birds no one knew he was fighting in the first place. The Beast will remain a hideous terrifying mutant because he was so damn stubborn and unable to discuss his emotions with any sort of honesty. Puss in Boots will be drowned as a war criminal by an army of Lilliputians. Talking flounders will be declared illegal and non-existent, and their believers will go underground, known only by the sausage shaped prosthetics they will wear as a badge of honor. And Hamelin, Germany will need to hire a new Pied Piper., having conveniently forgotten the disastrous financial effects of the first attempt.

from Dear Old Love today..

Independent Women Part 1

" I started listening to Cat Power for you, but screw that—I’m going back to Beyonce."

Sometimes it's your alternator :(

Pad Kee Mao

So on Friday night, Jay and I decided to become drug dealers or ninjas. I was voting for Drug Dealer cause its obviously a better financial move, but Jay seemed to think Ninja was more badass.



So we assembled the requisite magical mystery tour herbs.



Then I fried them up, to give us the garlic infused powers of the Night and Shadows.



Next we killed a Bald Eagle, butchered it, and added that to the volcano paste. Because all true Ninjas hate America.



Finally we tempered it with some Sand of Space and Judgement. Which happens to resemble jasmine rice, but is far more potent and tastes better with red wine. Also, that bowl was white when I ladled our concoction in it. Now it is black. Like my Ninja soul.



See that skull t-shirt? We are obviously so much more badass now, it is not even funny. Also, our sinuses are crystal clear.

I just read this girl's Livejournal post where she talked about a MORTAL KOMBAT! party her friend threw. Where they dressed up as characters from Mortal Kombat. WHAT THE HELL are my friends doing? NOT THAT.

Pad Kee Mao (drunken stir fry chicken) * 2 cups ground chicken * 15 cloves garlic * 5 fresh Thai chili peppers * 4 coriander roots or coriander stems if not available * 2 tbsp cooking oil (not olive oil, we used sweet chili oil and sesame oil) * 1 tbsp oyster sauce * 2 tbsp Thai fish sauce * 1 tsp white sugar * 1/4 cup chicken stock * 1/2 cup fresh holy basil * 1 sliced red spur chili pepper, optional Preparation 1. Pound the garlic, chillies, and coriander roots well in a mortar. 2. Heat the oil in a wok. When the oil is hot, add the pounded chilli mixture and fry with stirring. When the garlic is golden, add the meat and continue stirring and turning. 3. When the meat is done, add the oyster sauce, fish sauce, sugar, and chicken stock to give the dish some liquid. Add the basil leaves and chilli, and stir holy basil leaves to mix; then serve with rice.

Today was a weird day.
I woke up and got mad.
I stayed mad all day.
But I got a great evaluation at work.
I couldn't go to Jay's because I had to stay at work too late.
Then my car battery light came on while driving home, and I barely made it to the front of my house when the car just died. Kaput. My windows are still rolled down though, electric you know, so if you wanted to steal a bag of dirty clothes or some chicken stock, tonight's your night.
Then I got upstairs and my cable box was dead. Which is a clear sign that God hates Jennifer Aniston.
And the flu shot I got yesterday is totally making me sick.

But in my email I got a message from Kucinich's office saying I was on the waitlist for inauguration tickets, as well as a warning that these are standing tickets only, no food or drink allowed in the area, and there's an expected 4 hour wait with no restroom facilities. But I did get on the waitlist, which is AWESOME.

So, you know, it's a very mixed day.

Also, I've spent the last few days with visions of a vagina headed marching band stomping on an abandoned baby, bouncing around behind my eyeballs. I need a breathalyzer on my phone.

ALSO how is it that 30 Seconds to Mars is successful enough as a band STILL(not to mention EVER) that they can film a music video on an ice floe in the Artic circle? And how is it helping the cause of global warming to accelerate destruction by building an airstrip, have giant heavy machinery brought in, and then twirling your scarf a lot? Polar Bear Revolution Motherfuckers. They will eat your head Jared Leto.

UPDATE: Sometimes the universe isn't out to kick you while you're down, cause sometimes it's just your battery not your alternator. Even though you have a weird old South Korean car, so your battery is 100 dollars. But its still not your alternator, praise Yeesus Hallelujah. Times like these make you grateful you still live in the same city as your parents. Especially when right before your car died, you were busy screaming at the ex-boyfriend who usually took care of all your car problems.

Tonight!

Free screening of the Flaming Lips new film Christmas on Mars at the Beachland tonight, 8pm. I'll be there, drinking alone at the bar. Feel free to come and insult me, I'm in the mood for some righteous anger. And while I suspect a Martian Santa Claus will deflate some of that, well, you never know.

The most addictive site on the Internet.

I can't believe that it's only been a week since last Monday. I feel like it's been a year. However, my directions at time travel suck, cause it's still cold.

If you did not see the new Indiana Jones yet? Well, maybe you should skip this. Or maybe not.

Alright, I'm over Jay's, we bought the fish sauce, we got the #1 Pho, I'm drinking Magic Hat #9, and okay then: let's watch Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull.

*start movie*
Germans? I bet the kids in the trucks are germans.

Yup.

They're sneak attacking the base! Will the Germans steal a nuclear bomb?

Oh wait, they're Russians. The commies are after the ark? Mummified remains? I think Cate Blanchett looks like that famous asian spy lady I can't think of right now, Mata Hari. Only her accent is horrible. Magnetic gunpowder cloud? Really? oh....Roswell. I thought the aliens came at the end.

Why can't Spielberg stay away from aliens? And why would you open the mummy in the warehouse? Jay likes the sound of guns going down. I fail to see how you could drive the car with some case in it that's so magnetized, gunpowder drifted to it from across the warehouse.

Alright, I think I've found the problem with this movie. Indy survives a nuclear blast in a fridge? And doesn't immediately get crushed in the impact. And climbs out among burning debris with no thought to his testicles, as he stands casually and surveys the mushroom cloud about a mile away. Did I mention he got thrown a mile in a fridge, with no broken bones? And the CGI prairie dogs survived and don't have tumours all over their furry little bellies?

Now we get nice little civic lesson in bad government. The FBI thinks he's rogue. Indy gets fired? Maybe he'll start a petition, maybe an internet petition. That would be swell.

Now liberal extremist McCarthy targeted fired intellectual teams up with funny looking Jewish boy to fight the Russians, appropriate.

Indy just said "typhus".

Also, how does Indy not believe in "stories" at this point? ALSO what the hell is with that library scene? They slide a bike on its side underneath multiple tables and no one breaks a leg? Then he tells the kids to stay out of the library? Try staying out of the FALLOUT CLOUD, asshole. I'm sure Indy learned an obscure Incan language by staying out of the library. And he phoned in his doctorate.

I bet five dollars the conquistadors are alive at the end of this movie. Kept alive by the aliens.

I guess smaller scorpions are more poisonous, we googled it, its true. Also we bought some tamarind at Asian Plaza and eating it from the pod is like sucking the flesh of a penis made of sweet potato.

Shia Le Bouf is doing a GOOD job of making old Indy still look tough. I wonder if that was in his contract. "Hey I'll do this movie, but my sidekick can't be cuter than me and also has to be an obvious weakling."

Wait there are the conquistadors, they've been mummified with alien magic! I don't think in general just opening up mummies randomly with no planning is a good idea...wasn't there another movie about that?

We also got these tamarind candies that are coated in sugar and chili, I can't stop eating them. I'm going to get an Asian tummy ache.

The crystal skull: doesn't speak to everyone huh? Only crazy archaelogists from England? "Stare into the the skull" she says. "We will turn you into us" she says. The Russian plot is to turn America into Russian, subliminally. With a bunch of crystallized alien heads. This is like a political club over the head. Psychic warfare, a misguided FBI, alien conspiracy. I think Spielberg is an Air America fan.

"Autowriting. I should have seen this"
Well, we all should have honey.

The dinosaurs are crawling through the forest! Wait no, the commies brought a tree chipper to the Amazon. Now we're going to the magic alien city, and annoying jewish boy is Indy's son. So of course we have to hear fugly Marian and old Indy argue. I always hated Marian. I guess it's good Indy has a kid now, because he will NEVER HAVE CHILDREN AGAIN NOW THAT HE IS THOROUGHLY IRRADIATED and also will die of leukemia in a month.

Apparently Shia is the Monkey King. And the skull keeps away acres of demon possessed ants away but in close proximity, so Indy can have a fight in the circle of ant death with a Russian who will lose his face. And Ox is Willie Nelson in a poncho. And indian ninjas are stalking them. And Spielberg believes he invents aliens with every single movie , so he has to beat us over the head with the info that "hey these are aliens" even though they are the most cliche aliens ever and we all know what alien skulls look like thank you.

This entire movie was designed to be turned into an amusement park ride. I'm all like, well, there's gonna be a waterfall coming up, because in the car chase, the good guys have the car/boat. And then there's three waterfalls.

The booby traps in the temple SUCK.

Now Mata Hari has returned the head to the crystal skeleton alien, and all the aliens are meshing together, and they're one alien! And the place disentagrates. I think it's safe to assume that every temple left intact is booby trap free, because obviously they all get destroyed anytime anything exciting happens in them. I will feel much safer in temples having realized this.

Mata Hari's head explodes, or maybe she just goes to another dimension. I thought the aliens were giving her the gift of knowledge, but then she explodes. So these are either evil aliens, which means the theory of the movie is that civilization was founded by a bunch of wankers. Or really she goes off with them, becomes enlightened, and spreads the good word of Communism to the universe. She did return the head after all. Which was what they wanted, right? So I think Mata Hari wins.

Meaning Spielberg is a Communist. The entire movie points to it. I mean, she didn't want to keep the skull, she was going to give it back, so Indy and friends were just these obnoxious capitalists who got in the way of her quest for enlightenment. And then when it happened, they got scared and ran. But the strong Ruskie stayed and was rewarded. Americans are weak. Communists are seeking real truth. And humanity is not ready for the return of the superior race.

Finally, Indy marries some ugly broad he dumped years ago cause now he has a kid with her. And everyone leaves happily ever after, except Shia, who has now tarnished his Holes image forever.

Or this whole movie was a dream Indy had as he was dying, locked in the fridge. He imagined all the things he wish he had, a family, a lost love, a meaning behind his work, actual touch with the universal. Maybe this movie was in fact Indy's metaphysical awakening to the gaps in his life, the "looking into the light" moment that sums up his entire career delves deep into the subconscious desires of Henry Jones Jr. But in the end it was too late, and he drifts off into death as he and Marian walk out the church door, the audience lamenting its lost hero and the director poignantly pointing out with some hat trick that there will never again be another Indiana Jones. That modern society, with its obsessions of CGI, Aliens, Over the Top stunts and lack of real mortal enemies, could never support the daring do of
a man with a whip.

And where exactly was his whip?