Having just watched the trailer for the remake of The Day the Earth Stood Still, I’m filled with uncertain curiosity. The original is one of my favorite classic science fiction films, mostly because it tells a good story and Michael Rennie plays Klaatu with such elegant charm. When I think of Keanu Reeves, the word “charming” doesn’t come to immediately to mind. Sure, it’s fun to watch football stadiums get obliterated and giant spaceships emerge from the water, but I also remember what Tim Burton did to Planet of the Apes. Undoubtedly, I’ll buy a ticket for this movie, but my expectations will remain firmly in check.
Say you’re home alone on a stormy Friday night, sitting in front of your computer and searching for a few minutes of distraction. If you have an artistic bent, you might enjoy this digital sandbox game. You can manipulate pixels of colored “sand” to create your own mandala or whatever else strikes your fancy. And when you’re done creating your masterpiece, you can be all Zen and erase it with a single keystroke. My own creation looks like something created by a monkey with slightly above-average intelligence. The visual arts were never my strength.
After work today, I met my former boss for drinks at a new place in northeast Minneapolis called Red Stag. The restaurant is a hip update of the cozy supper clubs that you find in small towns across the Upper Midwest. The interior decor has a North Woods feel with exposed rafters and earthy tones, but I don’t think you’ll find many traditional supper clubs that feature a cucumber-and-melon martini on their menus. You also won’t find many other supper clubs that are LEED-certified as a environmentally-friendly establishment. I didn’t eat anything, but the smelt fries and cheese tray looked quite scrumptious.
MaryAlice, my former boss, said to me, “You should love this place, Mark. It has all the charm of Wisconsin without actually having to go there.”
The general election campaign season is upon us and I’m on the prowl for photo ops. Like this one:

This is Democratic Senate candidate Al Franken and the back of my head at a Franken rally that I stumbled upon earlier today in downtown St. Paul. A colleague of mine, who knows my political groupie tendencies, asked me, “How did you get so close to him? Did you tell him you’re dying?”
I replied, “No, I think he just assumed it.”
It’s late and most of you have probably gone to bed. I should probably do the same, but a busy evening has kept me from my blogging duties. I don’t consider myself to have an obsessive personality except when it comes to this blog. I’m staying up past my bedtime because I feel compelled to say something. My attention-seeking behaviors know no bounds.
I’ll try to be more interesting tomorrow.
I’ve visited Gold Medal Park plenty of times, but until recently, never at dusk. The view from the top of the park’s sculpted hill is even more dramatic as night approaches. The lights under the Stone Arch Bridge cast small pools of radiance on the river waters below. The nearby Guthrie is illuminated in subdued blues, golds, and reds. And on the other side of the river are the neon signs of the businesses lining St. Anthony Main. For a place that is nearly smack dab in the middle of downtown, the park is remarkably hush once the sun sets. The kind of hush that encourages whispered conversations.
Pixar’s first foray into science fiction is a dazzling combination of charm, style, and pathos. Seven hundred years in the future, WALL-E is the last sanitation robot on an ecologically devastated and depopulated Earth. WALL-E spends its days clearing away the heaping trash piles that cover the grimy landscape, methodically stacking cubes of garbage that have been processed in WALL-E’s internal compactor. He (it’s difficult not to anthropomorphize the little guy) also collects various objects that catch his eye as he tidies up the abandoned city. WALL-E’s predictable daily routine is disrupted when he stumbles upon a sleek-looking robotic visitor from the stars.
For an animated film marketed to children, WALL-E takes a number of stylistic chances. The first fifteen minutes contain absolutely no dialogue. It blends some live-action shots with the animation. And while the movie is by no means didactic, it offers plenty of commentary on consumerism for those who care to look for it. The visuals are simply a treat, especially a beautifully choreographed ballet in space involving WALL-E, his romantic interest, and a fire extinguisher. Sublime.
I’ve been having fun messing around with the Spore Creature Creator. For those of you who actually have lives, Spore is a forthcoming computer game that lets players guide a race of beings from single-celled organisms to a starfaring civilization. The Creature Creator provides gives you the opportunity to try your hand at creating your own custom-built species.
This was my first attempt. I call it a Tarffel. Here it is going all disco
For my next effort, I decided to try for something a little more Jurassic Park. I call it a DayGlo-o-Saur. I’m quite fond of the hot pink accents.

My most recent attempt somewhat resembles me. Big head, four eyes, skinny arms, the gray partially covered up with a few highlights, and generally funny-looking. I call it a Marcussite.

Happy Independence Day, everyone. I wonder what the Founding Fathers would make of their political experiment after 232 years. The notion that a man of color has better-than-even odds of becoming president would probably give them a good jolt. But I like to think that, on the whole, they’d be pleased to know that the country they founded still endures.
I’ve never bought the “city on a hill” metaphor for America. That kind of exceptionalist thinking glosses over our many flaws and shortcomings as a civil society. On the road to creating a more perfect union, we have lost our way plenty of times. But this country has also given me opportunities that I would have probably not enjoyed in many other parts of the world. I’m an American citizen and that means something to me, corny as it sounds.
On an unrelated note, I woke up at 8 this morning. On my day off. And this is becoming a trend. It’s either because of the summer light coming into my bedroom or because I’m getting old.
Bad boys get all the girls. So says a new study that surveyed thousands of men from countries around the world. In other words, it is now a scientific fact that nice guys finish last.
Every time I try to be even just a little bad, I break out in hives and get an upset stomach. It just doesn’t come naturally to me. Bad boys may get the most girls, but my own brand of geek charm is more of a niche product. It just needs some additional market testing.
