I finally completed a project i'd been contemplating for a while. With some IDL ingenuity, i wrote an interface to semi-automatically extract the actual data that is plotted on the cover of Joy Division's classic album Unknown Pleasures. This gave me a 2D array that can be considered an elevation map, which i then rendered using a surface shading technique. This gives something close to what Peter Saville did on the cover of his graphic art compendium Designed by Peter Saville. Now i'm speculating on where i should go next, seeing as i have the source data at my beck and call now.

Yes, i can hear it now ... loser!

Kickoff: Chelsea facing Wigan in a fourth round FA Cup battle. Chelsea in their hideous tennis ball yellow away kits, Wigan in blue and white. What is this stripe of mud down the middle of the JJB pitch? The rest of the field isn't exactly in pristine condition, either.

1 min.: Nicolas Anelka manages to bundle the ball through the defense over to an open Joe Cole, who fires a right-footed shot just wide of the goal. A great chance to go out in front at the outset. One of those shots that would've been brilliant had it found the back of the net, and ambitious but not erroneous otherwise.

15 min.: Anelka again plays the ball on for Cole, who appears to channel Arjen Robben and tries to dribble past five defenders while Anelka sits on the far side waiting for the return. No one's missing *that* Robben, Joe.

20 min.: Shaun Wright-Phillips miraculously outjumps his Wigan marker and surges up the left side, then in miles of space decides to cross before he has full control of the ball and sends it sailing over the goal. Replays show he had Anelka wide open in the box and was trying to get it to him before a defender closed in. Anelka has been active up at the front, but isn't getting a ton of service. He seems amiable about it though ... i've got visions of a Randy Moss-esque meltdown if he doesn't see more of the ball.

25 min.: The Chelsea defense collapses on Emile Heskey, who slides the ball to a wide open Marcus Bent in the center of the penalty box. It appears Carvalho and Alex were trying to play him offside, but failed marginally. Thankfully Wayne Bridge raced back to nip the ball out for a corner while Bent was contemplating his best shooting option.

30 min.: This team doesn't fill me with the same confidence that our first championship squad in 2005 did. Those guys seemed to have an answer for everything, and never broke ranks. This team looks like it could fall apart at any moment. With the injuries they've suffered it's understandable, but it doesn't make it any more comforting. Arsenal had teammates Emmanuel Adebayor and Nicklas Bendtner coming to blows in a match earlier this week ... it's pure comedy watching a ref mediate between two players wearing the same jersey ... i can fully picture that scene unfolding between two men in blue. Or today, yellow.

32 min.: After a questionable plea for a penalty, Anelka is now getting booed every time he touches the ball. Errant thought: Do you think the players are less likely to slide tackle in that central yard of dirt? And if so, is it possible for attackers to coordinate their offensives in that area?

35 min.: Joe Cole slides the ball through Kevin Kilbane's legs and bursts around him. A beautiful move (enough for a replay) that came to nothing. Cole looks like his old self after an injury-plagued 06-07 season, but so far this match he seems to be missing his old attack partners in Lampard and Drogba. Someone introduce him to Nicolas.

Half: Chelsea have had slightly the better chances, but the Wigan midfield began to control the game after minute 30. Carvalho and Alex look up for whatever Bent and Heskey can muster, so the question for the second 45 becomes whether Anelka and Cole can combine to threaten the home side's goal.

Half: That central stripe bends around the center of the pitch. What in god's name were the Wigan residents doing on this field this week? Dog show? Horse races? Marching band?

45 min.: After taking the second half kickoff, Cole again finds himself on the edge of the box and dances in front of a defender to create some space. His cross to Sidwell is decent, but the keeper punches away over the former Reading man's head. I still wonder why we bought Steve, or why he came to a club where he would probably be sitting on the bench for long stretches, but our spate of injuries has given him a chance to prove his worth. He came on a free transfer, so that shouldn't be difficult.

52 min.: Had to pause the game for 10 minutes as Ana needed Super Mario Galaxy advice.

53 min.: Nicolas Anelka gets his first for his new club, and what a beauty! A lofted pass from Juliano Belleti from midfield, and Anelka (minding to keep himself onside) tips the ball over the onrushing Kirkland and into the empty net. A fantastic piece of skill maneuvering that cross onto goal on the volley. I'm very glad that Anelka got on the score sheet after a few close efforts in his first Chelsea matches ... again, visions of a selfish Randy Moss.

55 min.: Wright-Phillips maneuvers into space, and with passing options on his left and right he dribbles to the edge of the area and slices a shot wide. Maybe Robben has now possessed the diminutive winger.

56 min.: A nice dink from Marcus Bent sends Emile Heskey clear on goal, and he fires a shot at point blank range. The heretofore spectator Petr Cech parries, and the Blues defense eventually clears. Certainly more action in the first 15 minutes of the second half than the last 15 of the first.

59 min.: Now Chelsea lurking on the Wigan box. End to end stuff now. This is not the style of play we've come to expect from a Makelele-led midfield.

61 min.: I've in general been happy with the addition of Florent Malouda. Certainly he wins the "best of the summer acquisitions" award. Despite his recent submission to our injury jinx, he's provided an excellent attacking option on the wing, and unlike other previously discussed players he's usually more than happy to play the final pass. He's been relatively quiet today though.

63 min.: Makelele runs into an errant Michael Brown elbow and goes down in a heap. The replays don't seem to suggest any malice, but Claude is hurting. It's odd seeing an animated Henk Ten Cate on the sideline ... if the hiring of Avram Grant was the writing on the wall from management signaling the end of the Mourinho era, how does Grant feel with Ten Cate looking over his shoulder? Makelele goes off for treatment ... looks like he got his bell rung.

67 min.: Now SWP goes down under a Brown challenge. Chelsea are dying to get him in the ref's book. Meanwhile, play continues and Sidwell tries to lob up to Anelka. Not a great through ball, and Wigan clears.

70 min.: Odd watching the lanky former Blue Mario Melchiot. He was a starting defender when i saw my team lose to Charlton at Stamford Bridge in 2001. I used to be reasonably impressed with his abilities, but he's done little to distinguish himself since moving to Birmingham City and subsequently Wigan.

72 min.: No changes yet for Chelsea, but then it's not like our bench is incredibly deep at the moment. Anelka races to beat Kirkland to a long ball forward, but loses to both the keeper and the offside flag. I didn't know squad numbers went up to 39.

74 min.: Alex looks like someone who'd rough you up behind a dive bar. Chelsea seems to be falling into a defensive, counterattacking strategy. The departure of Mourinho means this happens about 25 minutes later than it used to.

77 min.: Cole beats a defender off the dribble on the right side and floats a cross in to Malouda on the far side of goal, but his volley goes wide. Nicely worked chance there. The commentator reveals a possible reason for the awful pitch: the Wigan Warriors rugby team also plays at the JJB. Florent Malouda comes off for Paulo Ferreira as the Blues defensive mindset becomes more apparent.

81 min.: A little shove from Anelka on Kevin Kilbane frees him on goal, and with defenders closing he slides the ball over to SWP, who slots home with a slight deflection off the keeper's foot. Game over. Not the most overwhelming offensive display from Chelsea, but we were clearly the better team. Only moments later Joe Cole fires a shot over the bar with Chelsea marauding the Wigan area. Who's leading 2-nil here?

86 min.: A cracker from sub Antoine Sibierski, pulling off a chest-spin-shoot combo worthy of Didier Drogba, and now it's 2-1. Was my "game over" premature? Can't really fault the defense on that one, it was an excellent strike. Only 14,000 at the stadium ... it looks half empty. Back to reality for the club who impressed so much (ie, finished higher than 15th) after being promoted?

91 min.: Claudio Pizarro comes on for Nicolas Anelka, in what can only be described as a time-wasting maneuver. Shortly thereafter, Marcus Bent hits a beautiful shot first time that glances off the top of the crossbar. Very close to forcing a replay there. Chelsea's vaunted albeit jury-rigged back line are looking a bit nervous.

93 min.: The final whistle goes and it can't come soon enough for Chelsea. Into the next round of the FA Cup, although our frailties began to emerge in the last ten minutes. Lamps, JT, and Drogs can't come back fast enough.

Writing a blog post while hovering somewhere over the Pacific northwest. As i can’t access the web (thanks a lot, FAA), i’m typing it temporarily in my brand spanking new Mac Word 2008, which i picked up only hours before flying off to my meeting. I haven't used it enough yet to formulate an opinion. It's odd that in the few short months i've been a Mac convert, i've bought both Leopard and Office 2008 on the days of their respective release. How's that for diving in head first?

I'm going to see Editors in a few weeks, and i'm really looking forward to it. The more i listen to An End Has A Start, the more i'm impressed with their subtle evolution from the Back Room. Despite my fondness for the record, i'm thinking they're going to have to evolve in a more obvious fashion on their next album. Another record of staccato hooks and they may begin sinking into familiarity and subsequently, boredom. I can't listen to the album's title track any more without visualizing a recent AMC commercial in which the song provides a soundtrack to a montage of old movies. For some unfathomable reason, the line "someone hit the lights, 'cause there's more here to be seen" plays as Kris f'ing Kringle looks out beneath his hood, in a scene from the god awful 80's Christmas flick Santa Claus: The Movie. How did that become an American movie classic? By the way, i haven't changed my opinion of the video for the song. Lively dancers clad in primary color spandex surrounding the band as they perform the emotional track? This dog won't hunt.

As 2007 wound to a close, i took the somewhat blind follower approach of downloading all the albums on Pitchfork's top 50 of the year that i didn't already own. One of these has surged into the lead of my 2008 listening. Strangely, it's a band i've seen live several times and even described as "Jello Biafra fronting Fugazi ... two great tastes that most definitely do not taste great together". Yet their latest effort Let's Stay Friends i find brilliant. Yes, i've finally realized the greatness of NYC's Les Savy Fav. Now i'll have to dig backwards and see if this goodness is a new thing or if i shortchanged them from the beginning.

Other new discoveries ... i love the Bat for Lashes album, it's like a cross between Björk and Lilly Allen. I just listened to my first track off the critically acclaimed Deerhunter record Cryptograms and think it's the best indie electronica i've encountered in a while. Also, while never having been a huge Radiohead fan, i'm pretty into their latest offering In Rainbows. And you have to give them props for blazing a long overdue trail for music distribution by making the record freely downloadable online weeks before it popped up in the stores. Studio are another band Pitchfork has introduced me to, one they quite accurately describe as "Can making a Happy Mondays tribute album". Beyond recent music, additional exploration of the A Frames influences and followers has led me to "no wave", the short-lived NYC art movement. Finally, i have to plug a quite interesting musical experiment being conducted by one of the Onion AV Club reviewers, in which he is spending the first ten months of 2008 shutting himself off from new music and reexamining the contents of his music collection. I'd love to embark on a similar adventure, if i was able to do nothing but study my iTunes library all year.

How do you know you're in Canada? When you pop on Sportscenter and you don't see anything besides hockey for the first 20 minutes. Ba dum pum. Seriously folks, i've got a million of these.

Picking up where i left off, i returned to work on January 2 and got back to thinking deep thoughts. Actually, more like working out how to secure more money for my lab. That's the shame of becoming faculty, that you're really now more involved in administrative duties than actual science. I try to keep my eyes on the latter, but it gets harder and harder as my little "Graves lab" expands. We had our yearly visiting professor symposium that weekend, which went very well but involved me getting to work at 7:45am on a Saturday. Egad.

I really can't say enough about Super Mario Galaxy. While the difficulty level seemed slightly lower than the genuinely tough Super Mario 64, the variety of colorful backdrops, innovative challenges, and mind-bending gravity fields kept it fresh throughout the collection of all of the lost power stars. The Wii's motion-sensitive controller was incorporated well ... during normal gameplay you could point at the screen to highlight and gather scattered "star bits", while some challenges involved delicately controlling a rolling ball or a swimming stingray by positioning the Wii-mote. A home run for Nintendo's runaway hit system. Color me impressed after my initial hating on the big N's "gimmick".

In reviewing my show critiques on the site (which, believe it or not, are actually fully up to date), i realized i haven't been to a concert in quite a while. We've got some coming up ... Editors in early February, the Kills on Valentine's Day ... but i keep having this problem where the bands i really want to see slip into town and leave under my radar. Exactly the job for Sonic Living, but i've lately failed to pay it due attention. In lieu of live music, i've returned to expanding my music library, having finished the herculean task of incorporating Veronica's unkempt and untagged library into my own obsessive compulsive collection. I happened upon a solitary track by Seattle noise rock outfit A Frames among Veronica's songs, and was so impressed that i picked up the rest of their catalog. Because of that random encounter i'm on a noise punk kick. It's odd what you happen upon following these musical leads. Allmusic lists A Frames as "followers" of 90's punk act the Cows, a band my freshman year roommates at Cal were into. I was always intimidated by a band with an album entitled Sexy Pee Story. Now i'm giving them a chance. Perhaps this will lead me to experiment with the Dwarves, whose 1990 album Blood Guts & Pussy i remember staring at in my dorm room because of its cover depicting ... well, you get the idea. Don't even get me started on Type O Negative's Origin of the Feces. Ah yes, and Gwar. Oh, memories.

I passed my illness on to Veronica, whom it hit like a Mack truck and put her in bed and away from work for a week. I therefore spent much of last week taking care of her ... one night composing the ill-fated blog post described in my last entry as she slept. She recovered enough by Friday to weakly return to work, and to accompany me to my department's holiday party at Palo Alto's Four Seasons on Saturday night. A holiday party in January may sound a bit odd, but consider this an improvement over last year's March party. We'd never been to the swanky hotel, and although the food failed to impress the company and festivities certainly did. Also over the weekend i convinced Veronica to take me shopping for my Christmas gift, a new suitcase. She'd spotted a limited edition Samsonite that she fancied for me, while i'm a Tumi fan. We went to both stores in SF on Saturday afternoon, and couldn't find something i wanted, although we were incredibly successful finding bargains at Kenneth Cole. V knew of a Tumi outlet store way up past Napa in St. Helena, and i twisted her arm to drive up there on Sunday afternoon. As poor Tara had been cooped up at home for a while, we loaded her into the car as well. She loves to go for rides, but after 20 minutes or so seems to get upset that we're not stopping at any of the fantastic locales she's been spying out the window. We drove across the Golden Gate bridge and stopped at our favorite diner in Sausalito for lunch, while Tara looked peeved sitting across the street in the car. We then drove another hour or so up through wine country to St. Helena, locating the outlet oddly tucked in between several wineries. There i got a great deal on a Tumi T-Tech suitcase, as well as a messenger bag i'd been eyeing for a couple of years. Tara got to wander around the countryside, and was even welcomed into the store by the friendly clerk and oohed and aahed over by other customers. We then hopped back in the car and headed back down Marin, stopping at the A&W for an "All American meal" (read, crap and root beer floats). Tara was happy to receive the leftovers.

I got in a packed Monday at Stanford, ending with the monthly MIPS seminar and another fabulous Evvia dinner. Our dinner conversation was particularly interesting as our 65 year old speaker revealed that he was an avid mountain climber, having been to Everest base camp recently and boasting stamina that certainly bests mine. And as if that's not enough, he's recently facilitated some of his engineering work by building a cluster of PlayStation 3's. He had three of his students in line at the local Wal-Mart the day they were released, occupying spots 1, 2, and 6. I can't imagine how many little hearts were broken when the students emerged and were asked what they were going to do first with the system, and replied that they were going to strip it down, wipe the OS, and build a supercomputer. Apparently the PS3's cell processor trounces the top AMD processor in raw computational power.

Then Tuesday i packed my new Tumi bags and headed off to the airport for my flight to Vancouver. I decided to try out taking Caltrain to SFO, which was decent. I find it strange that when you transfer to BART at the Millbrae station, you have to get on a northbound train, then immediately switch to a southbound train at the next stop in order to get over to the airport. Then you're dropped off in the international terminal, which for me meant a walk around the airport to get to the domestic terminal. Anyhoo, i arrived in time to find my flight was delayed. My postdoc Ivana and i eventually arrived in Vancouver and cabbed over to the hotel in time for the evening's keynote addresses. Unfortunately, to our shock one of the speakers, angiogenesis pioneer and hugely influential scientist Judah Folkman, had passed away in the Denver airport the day before while connecting to his Vancouver flight. Folkman postulated the idea that tumors are dependent on blood vessel recruitment, and staunchly defended this hypothesis throughout the 70's and 80's until it is now a widely accepted tenet of cancer biology. Truly a huge loss for the field.

In addition to the meeting (my first true "biology" conference, and as such a huge learning experience), i've had a little time to explore the city. Ivana is a Vancouver native, as are several of the other students in our division that have come to the meeting. Ivana showed me the waterfront and the mountains on the far side of the inlet, and then we walked through the old "Gastown" area. It's a very clean and charming city. It is f@$#ing cold though ... daily high temperatures have been around 38°F. There hasn't been much wind though, so a jacket and scarf have sufficed in keeping me warm during my walks around town. I only recently realized that i was going to a foreign country, and as such would need my passport. I lucked out as my passport is due to expire in a few weeks. I was worried the officials at SFO wouldn't let me travel with a passport so close to expiration, but luckily no concerns were raised. I've learned about "loonies" and "toonies" ... thankfully someone explained these terms to me before i was introduced to them by a local. And despite the general absence of French in conversation on this side of Canada, the bilingual nature of the country means there is a French TV station and all the traffic signs are in both languages. So this really is a foreign country. That "51st state" stereotype dies hard.

Shouldn't fabulous indie rock bands be forming on every corner?

This post should've come a week ago, but after spending a relaxing evening on the couch blogging in front of the TV, i clicked "Add" and my post vanished into the ether. And another unfortunate mishap derails my attempt to get back on the posting wagon. Well, i'm here in my room in the Fairmont Hotel Vancouver, having just updated my site code to avoid a repeat of my last error, and am ready to put pen to paper. Or more accurately, fingers to keyboard.

First things first ... a trip back to last year for Dionne and Matthew's wedding (take 2). Aww.

My last post came right before the holidays, so let's rewind the brain to that point. The weekend before Christmas i spent in large part cleaning the house in anticipation of hosting a small de la Mora Christmas Eve gathering. The week prior we had finally painted the last of the bedroom trim, officially completing the room's renovation (save for Veronica's ongoing furniture rearrangement). I spent my time moving an assortment of Veronica's loose shoes out to the garage and generally converting the house from a "lots of crap everywhere, but tidy" stopgap to a "genuinely attractive enough to host guests" state of perfection. Saturday night we met up with my parents and sister and fiance for dinner and a gift exchange, a day before i dropped the folks off at SFO to head to Dallas for Christmas with my other sister, brother-in-law, and nephew. My parents gave us a new set of pillows, as well as what has become one of my favorite gifts in recent memory, a pair of flannel Guinness pajamas. While V headed to work on Christmas Eve, i finished my house cleaning by 2pm and turned my sights towards cooking. After six hours of buying and preparing food, we shared a nice meal of chicken vera cruz, pasta, green beans, and salad with Naomi, Phil, Millie (i know she goes by Amelia now, but "Millie" is just so darn cute), Vincent, George, Lynda, and little Jessi. The big hit was my impromptu addition of cilantro-lime butter for no purpose other than fancy-ing up the bread. The guest list had fluctuated between four and ten people over the course of the day, but we had just enough food for the eventual attendees. At midnight we opened presents as is the de la Mora tradition. V got the diamond earrings she'd been envying since our Thanksgiving trip to Iowa, and i got fifth and second row seats the the upcoming Kids in the Hall sketch performance and conversation, respectively, and a rain check for a new suitcase. Millie and Vincent graciously gave us a copy of Super Mario Galaxy, which i'd been eyeing since its release, while N+P gifted us a sure-to-inspire-heated-debate 80's "Name That Tune" game. Our guests bid us adieu around 1am, and i passed out from my domestic exhaustion as Santa skirted the local rooftops.

I'm sitting at my hotel desk now with Dirty Harry on in the background and the housekeeping woman making my bed. I believe that psycho Scorpio killer (played by the actor who went on to be Sly Stallone's straight-laced superior in the awesomely-ridiculous-as-only-an-early-80's-action-flick-can-be Cobra) is scaring the hell out of her. With good reason ... that guy is beyond creepy. Thankfully she finished up and left before the unsettling Kezar scene. What a great flick. Those wonderful late 60's/early 70's cop movies are definitely an extinct breed.

Christmas in RC was low-key, waking up late and futzing around before heading over to my Aunt Cathy's for dinner. We spent a lovely evening with my aunt, uncle, and cousin, fiddling around with Rock Band on the Xbox 360 that Jeff brought over. I'd more or less resolved to skip the multi-instrument alternative to Guitar Hero, but after that night i must say my curiosity has been reactivated. I got an email from my dad in Texas, with photos of the newest budding Chelsea striker. With injuries to Drogba, Sheva, Lamps, and JT, we need all the help we can get. January pickup Nicolas Anelka will hopefully bring his proven scoring record with him, but with our luck he'll break his pelvis in about two weeks. It's amazing what a roller coaster ride this season has been so far. Mourinho exits in typically dramatic fashion, our most reliable leaders are bruised, broken, and benched, our new manager appears to have arrived from a George Romero flick, and yet we're only four points from the top of the table. It's a mad mad mad mad mad sport.

My optimism is tempered by the fact that i watched last weekend's Manchester United/Newcastle match, and the mancs are playing on another planet/solar system/galaxy/universe, whichever astronomical analogy you prefer. As much as it pains me to say it, Cristiano Ronaldo is the best player in the world right now. His second goal, where Carlos Tevez fired a bullet pass to him in the box and he brought it down and slotted home in one motion was a one-of-a-kind piece of skill. With United's experience, cohesiveness, and raw talent, it's hard not to envision them winning their second consecutive title. And oddly, for the first time i can remember i'm not overwhelmed with bitterness while watching another team excel.

Perhaps it's because i'm enjoying the New England Patriots march into the history books. I developed an affection for the Pats during my time in Boston, seeing Tom Brady win an unlikely championship during my first winter there and bringing New England its first sports title since the Celtics in the 80's. I was disheartened by the early season developments this year, with the team being accused of cheating after the New York Jets caught a Pats employee taping Jets defensive signals during a game, a clear violation of league rules. The scandal prompted the media to go so far as to question whether all three of the Patriots' titles should be questioned or asterisk-ified, to use the Barry Bonds parlance. I found it fairly ridiculous, considering stealing signals is something every team does to an extent. The Pats were appropriately punished (a total of $750k in fines and loss of a first round draft pick) and life went on. And the surly Bill Belichick decided the best response was to grind the rest of his 2007 opponents into dust. To physically and mentally humiliate them. Up by 20 points with 30 seconds left? Have Brady throw for another TD to make it a 27 point lead. 4th and goal with 2 seconds left and a 40 point lead? Go for it. Win with extreme prejudice. The offensive explosion was an interesting response to their defeat to the Colts in last year's AFC championship game. In that game, Peyton Manning shook his history of "big stats, big game chokes" to defeat the unflashy-but-ever-clutch Brady and went on to win his first Super Bowl. This year? Belichick took the chains off Brady, producing a juggernaut offense and allowing his quarterback to break Manning's single season passing records as if to show the world "anything they can do, we can do better". And they did. Whereas the Colts fell short in their bid for a perfect season a few years back, Brady and co. completed the regular season feat. And now that Manning reverted to his usual playoff routine (get upset, make a few pouty faces, and disappear), New England has a clear shot at the first 19-0 season ever. Go Pats!

The day after Christmas, Veronica returned to travail but i decided to take an extra day of relaxation. I braved the crowds at Best Buy to pick up a copy of the much lauded Call of Duty 4: Modern Warfare. After getting it home and into the Xbox 360 despite its increasingly rickety CD drive tray, i found myself in agreement with the critics. A fast paced modern first person shooter, the gameplay contrasts with that of the equally brilliant Ghost Recon: Advanced Warfighter in which you find yourself quietly stalking opponents and finding sniping spots. CoD instead throws you into a chaotic battle zone, with no time to ponder over your attack options. You'd better find some cover and come up with an intelligent way to outshoot your opponent, or you're going to get mowed down. As such, the game is pretty damn difficult. When it pushed me too far, i switched over to Super Mario Galaxy. A beautiful update of the seminal platformer Super Mario 64, i was quickly hooked. Only a few days ago did i finally collect the last of Mario's 120 power stars. V's now playing the game as Luigi in an attempt to fully complete the title. Roo and Doug bought us a copy of SMG as well (mainly because i've been lackadaisical in updating my Amazon wishlist) ... hey, it's a great gift!

We caught the wonderful Juno the evening after Christmas after a tapas dinner. I loved the arc of this film, showing youthful cynicism react to a glimpse of its thirtysomething future. It reminded me of Dr. Evil's classic line, "There's nothing more pathetic than an aging hipster." Juno's simultaneous sharp wit and understated vulnerability worked great. And of course, Michael Cera gave a familiar performance in his element as an awkward teenager. I watched a bunch of movies over the break, both in the cinema and at our home theater. I've been boning up on world affairs after i realized i knew nothing about Darfur other than the buzzword. The somber documentary Sand and Sorrow gave me the basics, as well as depressing the hell out of me. I'm curious to see the equally disturbing Hotel Rwanda. V and i finally watched a Netflix copy of Wes Anderson's The Life Aquatic a few weeks back. We're averaging about one movie every two months with Netflix ... not exactly a cost-effective expenditure. Despite the prevalent negative reviews, we both enjoyed Bill Murray's turn as a past-his-prime Jacques Cousteau figure. Especially Seu Jorge's supporting role as the adventurous crew's bard, playing acoustic arrangements of classic David Bowie songs. We've also got blu-rays for Ratatouille and the "final cut" of Blade Runner waiting to be viewed. On New Year's Eve i partook of a classic Planet of the Apes marathon, rewatching the brilliant original ("It's a madhouse! A MAAAAADHOOOOOOOUSE!") and catching the increasingy more bizarre and convoluted sequels. The second one is actually fairly good, with a postapocalyptic mutant human clan worshipping a nuclear missile and Charlton Heston popping up on occasion for some more overdelivered lines. From there things go downhill quickly as the scene shifts to a parallel modern age in which humans enslave apes. Capped off by the ultimate pile of dung, Tim Burton's pointless remake of the original, which AMC wisely chose to exclude from the marathon.

Although i only planned a short time off work in between holidays, by the morning of the 27th i had come down with a cold and was sidelined for the rest of the week, which naturally i spent playing video games. Our friends Kevin and Shyoko arrived for an extended New Year's weekend on Saturday evening, and we celebrated with a late dinner at new favorite Evvia. Kevin came bearing a shiny new copy of Ratchet & Clank Future: Tools of Destruction that i must give a whirl soon. They caught up with friends in the city on Sunday while we relaxed, having Naomi and Phil over in the evening for burgers at Jeffrey's and an 80's music trivia contest with their Christmas gift to us. As i predicted, Phil and my victory over the ladies caused some friction with the poor losers.

On New Year's Eve as the "no rest for the wicked" Veronica again returned to work, i watched the aforementioned Ape marathon with our guests. They absconded to the city to prepare for the night's festivities and i subsequently napped until V got home. She convinced me to put aside my lethargy and ill health to ring in the new year at New Wave City. We convened with K+S, Nathan, Summerlea, and Hakeem before i drove the lot (packing all seven of us into my Jetta, a new record) over to SoMa. I dropped them off at 11:15pm and went off to find parking. By 11:45pm Veronica advised me by cell phone that i should just park in her work's lot, six blocks from the club. I ran back to the club, arriving just in time to grab a glass of champagne and count down the last seconds of 2007. We spent the rest of the night dancing, ferrying our fellow revelers home at 2am after a brief trip through the Burger King drive-thru.

I'm boycotting Britney stories. The woman is messed up, no doubt, but this media frenzy has gotten flat-out silly. Leave the damn woman alone. She's f@$#ing mentally ill. Tom Cruise, on the other hand ... i'm all for splashing stories of his insanity on the front page.

And here we are in 2008. 2007 was certainly good to me ... not one but TWO grants at work, refinancing our home and securing some financial stability, and welcoming my aspiring Chelsea-phile nephew to the world. I always tend to focus on the nostalgia of things past rather than the anticipation of things future, so i'll sign off with one last sigh of moroseness as i bid farewell to the previous year.