It's a Whole New Order

Circa 1986, during my community college years, after I dumped my third semester of Calculus for the far more satisfying Radio & TV classes, finally finding a passion for something, something that I wanted to do for the rest of my life, only to be later ripped from the arms of that loving major into the more droll Computer Info Systems program because of the crazy notion that I could play volleyball for two more years at a university known more for its county's second leading cash crop (marijuana) than its academics (or sports, for that matter), I created a music video, sort of. The assignment dictated that we shoot and record something live. We were supposed to demonstrate our directing abilities, telling everyone what to do with virtually no rehearsal and no editing after the fact. I shot a cabbage patch doll (I told you it was 1986) against a backdrop of the birth certificate using that Chroma Key thing. I had my sound guy throw on something from the class grab bag of a music library. It was creepy-sounding, eerie, almost nightmarish, the mood of which, determined the rest of the shots of the doll, and its ultimate demise. It was a sort of Hitchcockian theme. I timed the camara switches and doll devastations to this Halloween-like passage of music. With the exception of playing this piece of video two or three times over the past twenty years, I never heard this particular piece of music before or since, and I couldn't even tell you what the song was called or who performed it. Until two days ago. After watching one of my Netflix movies, El Bola (a great movie, by the way), I perused the special features and stumbled upon an animated short called "More" by Mark Osborne and I can't begin to describe to you the feeling of nostalgia meets excitement meets incredulity meets whatever other overwhelming emotion I could include here when I heard the beginning of this music. I was riveted. This was the best piece of animation I've ever seen! Actually, the music moved me so much, I don't know if the animation was any good or not, but I liked it, and I assume it must have had some level of value, as it received many awards including an Oscar nomination back in 1999. I sat on the edge of my seat not wanting it to end, but simultaneously anticipating the credits for the name of this song. Turns out, it's called Elegia, by New Order. New Order?!?!?! Aren't they like that 80s band that played Pet Shop Boys and Depeche Mode type music? Why yes, they are. And Elegia should have been called Enigma, as it sticks out like a sore thumb in their discography. So if you're interested in seeing this thing, disregard my overhyping and try this link if you have Quicktime.

Ha Ha! Made You Look!

I just wanted to let you know that I have nothing to say to you right now.

That Whole Notion of Celebrities Dying in "Threes"

Why do we say that celebrities die in threes? Why do we care? Why do we need the numbers? As if we as a human race will not know how to go on because our purpose in life has diminished, lost its meaning.

To me, it's like those people who try to be as closely involved as possible in some tragedy: "I almost took that flight" or "My friend's sister knows someone who worked in one of the towers."

Why do people NEED to make themselves feel so important? It's like a drug. It's a short-lived addictive high that you must constantly feed in order to continuously aggrandize yourself.

And people will search out high and low for that connection, just to be a part of it. If it happened to the janitor's brother-in-law's third cousin's kid, it must be true and you must forward that story to EVERYONE YOU KNOW, because YOU are CONNECTED.

But I digress. Back to the triple celebrity whack-down. If you can only come up with two celebrities worth mentioning, pretend that an obscure third celebrity that most people have never heard of counts, cuz you've got to meet that quota. And another thing: do these unlucky folks even have to meet their untimely demise all on the same day? What seems to be convenient, as there is no apparent time table, is to just wait until you get that 3rd dead guy and then just start over at 1 until you get to three again. No matter how long it takes. It's the foolproof way of keeping the silly notion alive.

So let's see...Number 1: Don Knotts - no need to explain who that is.
Number 2: Dennis Weaver - OK, the kiddies might not know, but you can get away with "Oh, he was famous back in the 70s. Ever heard of Gunsmoke? McCloud?"
Number 3: "You mean you don't know who Alan Shields is? Are you kidding? You know, famous artist... stitching... sewing... grid systems...Searching for Lollipops in the Hippie Vortex? No? Too bad, that's my third and I get to start over at 1 now.