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Posts Tagged ‘Apostle’s Creed’

What do you call a dinosaur with wings that can’t fly? Um… a dragon, as far as I’m concerned!

Scientists call it a Gigantoraptor (really, that’s what it’s called) and…

Gigantoraptor appears in an artist’s reconstruction to have cut a menacing figure on the Cretaceous landscape. Rearing on its hind limbs, it spread out forelimbs tipped with sharp claws and prepared to pounce on prey with an open mouth and strong beak. Independent dinosaur experts said the description of the fossils of the half-complete skeleton appeared to support the discoverers’ interpretations. They said Gigantoraptor probably had some feathers, though none were preserved.

Ha!

gigantoraptor

Artists’ rendering of actual events. No really. This is the picture the scientists released with their findings.

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I am going to have to disagree with your latest post, Recklesley. Peter Petrelli is, in my book, the anti-Emo. I’m not sure which “Heroes” you watch, but in my (Primetime NBC) version, Peter Petrelli does not waste his time writing forlorn lyrics or perfecting his black eyeliner, but rather directs his actions towards, oh, I don’t know, Saving The World, perhaps? Now I realize Peter Petrelli’s duties run parallel to those of Peter Parker’s (interesting…similar names these two), protecting everyday civilians from evil villains, etc, but from what I hear, Peter Parker transforms into an (Emo) tool once he puts on that black outfit-thing (or whatever), more so than he already was. And Petrelli, aside from falling in love with a woman whose heart belongs to a heroin shooting, psychic comic book writing, artist, does not embody any other tell tale signs/symptoms of an Emo d-bag.

Just to reiterate why Peter Parker is, in many ways, a poster-child for Emo boys everywhere, here is a short list of his Emo characteristics:

– Was a nerd in high school.
– Wears dark rimmed glasses.
– (Apparently) morphs into an even bigger Emo-ster once he puts on, surprise, an all black ensemble.

And I’m not even going to attempt to tackle the thousands of reasons why Conor Oberst is the king of all Emo, since you already know them all. I think every time a Bright Eyes song is played, a sad, resentful, greasy haired boy gets his Emo wings. Or cries.

Peter Petrelli, however, does not inherit any of these traits. He is courageous, intuitive, and easy on the eyes. All of which, in my book, are in no way tied in with the Emo stereotype. So let’s not place that dangerous “Emo” label on just anyone who possesses dark features and super hero capabilities (minus Oberst). People’s feelings might get hurt.

PS. You call this Emo?



Note: “Heroes” is the best show on network television right now. Watch it, fools.

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This is part 2 in the Mets Update for Girls series. You can relive the magic of part 1 here.

Note: Regarding the title of this invaluable series, BrooklynSkeptic is not wedded (ha ha) to traditional gender roles. But there they are, nonetheless.

I love inspirational sports movies. LOVE them. It is my favorite genre after epic fantasyRudy, The Karate KidVarsity Blues, Bad News Bears, Cool Runnings, Hoosiers, Remember the Titans, Miracle, Mighty Ducks, D2, D3, et cetera. Please feel free to add your own fave inspirational sports movie.

Anyway, what makes watching Dawson Leary sweat and yell and scream his team into victory so much more exciting than Michael Turner tossing around the ole pigskin?

The answer is…..

Backstory! In a movie, you get to see their trials and tribulations as the new kid in school who just can’t fit in, or the hard luck coach who just can’t get it together, or the Jamaican bobsled team who’s never seen snow before!

At this point you may be saying to yourself yes yes I’m totally with you, but what does this have to do with the Mets?

The answer is that the Mets are the only pro sports team that I would want to see in a feature-length movie. And guess what? They wouldn’t even need to cast FPJ as the All-American wonder boy or SLJ as the wisened coach. The Mets has those positions, and more, already filled by the most charming and lovable and photogenic men around!

Adorable 2006 Mets

Look at those precious poonums!

It’s not only me that thinks so. The Metropolitan Men have been getting a lot of press lately, filled with references to how much more charming and lovable they are than the Yankees.

See first the Village Voice article on Jose Reyes, “the most exciting and most handsome player in baseball”! (note: items in italics added by editor)

He is kind and adorable and loves reggaeton. Also, when you go to the games at Shea right around the 3rd Inning if you direct your attention to the jumbo-tron you will get the best Spanish lesson of your life from Profesor Reyes. Learn to say dedos or la puerta and he will melt your corazon.

 See second the NY Mag article on David Wright, who is young and handsome and corn-fed. The article explores whether David Wright is possibly too perfect. The answer? No, not really.

Here they are together:

reyeswright.jpg

There are many other talented and charming players on the team, and I encourage them to keep your eyes out for them, as I will.

So, in conclusion, when you think of the Mets in terms of inspirational sports movies it opens up a world of possibilities! When is the scene where Emilio Estevez drives out on the ice? How will we know when Rudy has finally gotten into Notre Dame? What about when, um, Kurt Russell, um, uh, uses his hatred of communism to win a hockey match? Yeah, what about that?!?

The answer is, of course, that you should to watch the Amazin’s and find out for yourself! And once you find that sweet spot, when Reyes’ every steal of a base steals your heart right along with it, then you’ve arrived and like Miss Joey Potter, you may be ready to move past that boy from the creek.

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I usually don’t write reviews for events I actually enjoyed, but two nights ago (3/28) I had the liberty of seeing Do Make Say Think live, and I feel compelled to express my opinions about the show since I was so taken by this performance. To say I received my $15’s (ticket price) worth would be an understatement. Had I paid $50, this still would have been a worthwhile investment, and then some. I’d say $100, but I refuse to pay more than $50 for any artist. It’s a moral issue.

Anyway, Do Make Say Think performed at Brooklyn’s very own Southpaw. Wonderful venue. I would see every band here, if I could. Every single band in the universe. Right. Moving along, Do Make Say Think did not let down. I was expecting great things, and all expectations were met, despite their having a replacement drummer for the evening.

The show was absurdly good, for the most part. Unfortunately, at certain points in the evening I was reminded why it is I hate most people. This is completely unrelated to the band, but I will go on to complain nevertheless. To the tall, drunk, bearded man who forced his way towards the front of the stage during the performance, obstructing the view of all those behind him just so he could hit on some girl: you are my worst male enemy. And to the girl who decided to stand directly in front of me, close enough for me to count the freckles on the back of her neck: You are my worst female enemy. No, it’s great when people do that. I actually like to reserve the two inch space between me and whoever I am standing behind, just so another person can squeeze in between us. So it’s good this person could read my mind. Otherwise I might’ve been able to actually see the stage.

Luckily, both these sworn enemies of mine eventually came to their senses and bounced from their incredibly inconsiderate positions, allowing me to fully take in Do Make Say Think’s performance. Which, like I already said, was unbelievable. If you ask me, Do Make Say Think puts on one of the best live shows of any band, period. The show is comprised of impeccably synchronized (yet also spontaneous–thought provoking) instrumentals, awe inspiring drumbeats, and cascading lights. It’s difficult to fully describe the impact their live concert has on an audience member; it makes for what I consider to be, a religious musical experience. Yeah, I know. I too have found annoyance with every person in history who has described a show/concert as a “religious musical experience,” but I’m too tired (lazy) to think of another way to put it. It’s okay if you judge me. I’d judge me too. Anyway, I think every fan of Do Make Say Think should catch them live at least once. K? K.

Also very enjoyable was Do Make Say Think’s opening act, The Berg Sans Nipple. I’d say they fall under the same genre as Explosions in the Sky, etc. A talented duo, these two. It should also be addressed that TBSN’s Shane Aspegren, covered for DMST’s ailing drummer for Do Make’s entire show. Which takes mad skills and some serious cojones. Props to Berg Sans Nip’s drummer for pulling that off.

So, I hope anyone who reads this takes my advice. But it’s okay if you don’t. But I hope you do.

PS I attended this show by myself. I have never done that before. Therefore, this night was signifcant for a number of reasons.

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I don’t understand this season of American Idol. It’s incredibly bad. It’s so bad I actually removed it from my dvr “series recording” list. Removed it. I rarely do this, for any show. Example: I still have “Frasier” listed to record. (That is a secret between you and me, Brooklyn Skeptic readers. And it shall never be discussed in person.) Anyway, my point is that, clearly, my standards for television are relatively low. Not including reality-tv shows. Since I hate them all. Except for Project Runway. And Extreme Makeover – Home Edition. And sometimes America’s Next Top Model. And past American Idols. And the first season of Temptation Island. But that’s it. (That’s so not it.)

Anyway, since I will no longer be tuning into this season of Suck-erican Idol, I’d like to share with you my final thoughts on the program.

To the THREE people who forgot the lyrics to their songs: Are you serious? One song. You had to memorize the lyrics to one song. And not even the whole song, pretty much just the recognizable part. And you blew it. How is this possible? Story: In 5th grade I had to memorize the Apostles’ Creed in its entirety. (I went to Catholic school.) Was it difficult? Very. Did I care about it? Not really. Though, I’m sure at the time I was convinced I would descend into the depths of hell if I couldn’t recite it by heart. But the point is, I was given a task, and completed it. Do I still remember the prayer? That’s not important. What’s important is that even at 10 years old, I was better than these American Idol-ers. (Also, I had a heavenly voice. My rendition of “Let There Be Peace on Earth” would have made you weep.)

To America: Why are you voting for that guy who looks like Nosferatu? Not only is he creepy, he’s like the weirdest person in general. Do you not feel uncomfortable watching him? I do.

Nosferatu

And Sanjaya: Sanjaya, Sanjaya, Sanjaya. I had such high hopes for Sanj, but he has what I like to refer to as, negative stage presence, and negative good style. Meaning, he is a weak singer, and his hair is insane…ly feminine. I think Sanjaya is perhaps, a woman. Which is fine, but I don’t think he knows this yet, which is why he can’t work up to his full potential. Since he is having an identity crisis. Either way, I don’t enjoy watching him/her.

sanjaya girl

That’s all I really have to say about this season of A.I. There are a couple really, really talented female singers, but they in no way compensate for the 9 people who suck.

So, American Idol, I bid you, adieu.

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