Hallmark Channel, You're Killing Me ,,,

For the few of you out there still living within the limitations created by Time-Warner's Basic Cable, the holiday season this year has already taken an alarming turn.  Recent reductions in the channel offerings available to those of us unwilling to pay a $100.00 plus monthly cable bill has placed many in a rather precarious position; one that even those of us (like me) with long-time subscriptions to 'Netflix' have yet to come up with a suitable solution for.  In fact it sometimes seems that the only channel providing reasonable cable cinematic efforts on TV is the Hallmark Channel.

Don't get me wrong here, I really like to watch movies and normally have no real objection to the 'made for TV' type that represent the common fare on Hallmark Channel.  The plots on their films are fairly well written (though sometimes horribly formulaic), the obvious Canadian studio production values of these films are solid, and where else could one go to see all of the great character actors from serial TV and old movies since "The Love Boat" and "Love American Style" went off the air.  The problem however, is that since I no longer receive AMC, TMC, TNT, or even the "Sharknado" movie on the ScyFy channel from the friendly folks at my cable company; Hallmark's offerings are damn near the only alternatives available on the channels remaining. 

I have therefore been plunged in recent days into a world of non-stop Christmas movies through their current "Countdown to Christmas" schedule.  This is bad enough for someone who's long been suffering from a near terminal case SCSS (Santa Claus Similarity Syndrome); but making the symptoms even more tortuous lately are the diabetic-destroying sugar levels in the romance and romantic comedy story lines that are woven into Hallmark's holiday offerings.  

Listen, I like my 'chick flicks' as much as any other sports-addicted, chest thumping, Neanderthal, but this expanded exposure to the 'Dark Side' of movie making has gotten completely out of hand.  My anxiety over the situation has reached a point where I've had to monitor my sleeping habits; lest I drop off with the TV on and find myself being subliminally programmed with an overdose Christmas spirit and more weepy sensitivity than any member of my gender can willing be asked to contain.  

The fact that I'm able, and even willing to write about the recent impact of this not-too-subtle re-programming (brainwashing) should indicate to even the least discerning how ghastly my own personal situation has become.  The further admission that this recent exposure has probably allowed me to 'grow as a person' should in fact be recognized by the rest of my gender as symptomatic of the terrifying potential harm that this network's offerings represent to the species.  

The fact that I'm not currently seeing anyone (and admitting that publicly as well), adds insult to injury by forcing me to watch this "Groundhog Day" programming schedule by myself.  The entire situation is serious enough that I've actually begun to fear future retention of my 'Man Card'.  Heaven help me, but it's lately gotten so bad as to find me writing down late night tear-stained 'Post-It' notes with the URLs of dating websites in a desperate (and mostly pathetic) search to re-create the happy ending from the most recently viewed cinematic effort.  (Fortunately, I come to my senses in the morning; belch, fart, scratch myself, and run such notes through a paper shredder immediately afterward.)

So if you're out there Time-Warner, I'm begging you!  Please give me back ESPN or Spike TV and allow me to return to my former (and mostly insensitive) nature.  Stop taunting me with the choice between the cable upgrade required to allow me to view the manly TV I long for and the prescription medications that I require to survive.  Don't force me to replace the take-out and microwavable high in salt, high in trans fat meals that I usually consume in front of the TV set watching football games with the Dog Food that the government and mainstream media have threatened me with for years as the only way I will have left to make ends meet.  

Come to think of it, don't force me to begin a letter-writing campaign to my Congressman or Senator with desperate appeals for greater government regulation in the cable industry at the very least; or better still, Cable TV subsidizing.  (Isn't full cable a right in this country, after all!) 

While there's more that I'd like to say on the subject, right now I'm feeling a little too emotional to properly express myself.  Besides, "The Santa Suit" with former "Hercules" star Kevin Sorbo is about to come on the Hallmark Channel, and (sniff, sniff) I don't want to miss it.   

 

Pop Culture Identity Theft

All the syndicated radio talk show hosts in the country are trying to convince us to buy identity theft protection.  So are our banks, our credit cards, our mortgage companies, and even some of our favorite TV shows.  I'm now ashamed to say that I have traditionally rejected these entreaties to protect myself.  I always figured that being me was not only nothing to brag about, but has in may ways been a serious detriment to my past, present, and future.  I therefore couldn't understand why anyone would attempt to steal an identity like mine, what possible good it would do them to have it, and if they did for some reason find themselves in possession of it, would probably pay me money to take it back..

After all, I was a geek long before it was popular to be one.  I not only owned a number of pocket protectors (cartridge pens leaked and ruined white school shirts), and wore them rather proudly.  I owned a 24" slide ruler in a fake leather case, and was rather proficient in its use.  I began reading sci-fi soon after learning how to read, beginning with the Tom Swift adventures, before moving on to Jules Vern and eventually graduating to the classics of Asimov, Clarke, and Heinlein; along with the fantasy of Tolkien, Robert E Howard's Conan, Edgar Rice Burroughs' John Carter of Mars, and Fritz Leiber's Fafhd and the Gray Mouser (with a overlarge and perhaps unhealthy dose of comic books filling the spots in between).  I enjoyed school and loved learning, especially history, math, and science.  I fulfilled every requirement for the position of geek in fact except for glasses with tape on them, and this only because it took me until my twenties to wreck my vision through reading too much in darkened rooms with the book crammed within three inches of my nose.

As you might expect, this didn't make me the most popular guy in my social strata during my youth.  I was often only reluctantly picked for sports, had only a limited number of friends, and wasted far too much of that youth with the TV or a good book to bury myself in.  I watched every episode of "Twilight Zone", "Outer Limits", and "Star Trek"; and was easily caught up in every cheesy sci-fi 'B' movies.  As I grew up (I refuse to use the term 'matured' as I'm still waiting for that), this led to the obvious awkwardness in social situations.  Speaking to members of the opposite sex was proof of ineptness and a source of lingering terror (actually, it still is).  Dating was what be termed an infrequent occurrence (you know, like rain in the desert) and it's likely that I was saved considerable failure and embarrassment in this area by attending a Catholic all-boys school for most of my high school career. 

Unlike many others, I failed to grow out of my 'geekhood'.  I've owned as many computers in my life as I have cars.  In my late fifties, I'm still playing video games (when I'm not caught up in weekend of cheesy movie festivals on the ScyFy channel).  I spend much of my spare time (such as it is) researching and writing on a computer, when I'm not reading other literary efforts online and off.  As for the state of my social life, let's just say that two marriages allowed me to be a small part of the lives of two pretty good women and continue to allow me to be part of three great kids and five grand-kids.  Other than that, I have trouble even making Facebook friends and the concept of dating is one that should largely be considered an intellectual pursuit.

I'm sure many you are asking yourself why I'm admitting to so much that's at the very least embarrassing and borders on humiliating.  (The rest of you are getting ready to click on to the next blog you follow or see if there's something on TV.)  I'm enduring this personal torture however, so that you can clearly understand that my life is not one that anyone in their right mind would choose to covet.  And yet ...

Now suddenly "The Big Bang Theory", a show fulls geeks, is one of the most popular situation-comedies on TV (and here I thought that laughing at geeks was restricted to schools).  Sci-fi movies like "Oblivion" are the rage, and the latest incarnation of Star Trek is getting ready to release its much-anticipate sequel "Into Darkness".  Science fiction has its own channel on cable these days with the 'ScyFy' channel (though I'm still trying to figure out where wresting fits into it).  Fantasy has likewise taken its rightful place with the beginning of a successful portrayal of "The Hobbit" coming after the hugely successful "Lord of the Rings" trilogy.  And need we even have to mention the unparalleled successes of Marvel and DC's characters whose movies have just come out ("Iron Man 3") or are much anticipated (Superman's "Man of Steel").  But it's not just the mainstream media.

Facebook is full this weekend of "May the Fourth Be With You" images from "Star Wars" (as well as "Revenge of the Fifth" or Sixth if they want to leave Cinco de Mayo in), and the Toledo Mudhens (wow, there's a geek name if ever there was one) are wearing 'Chewbacca' jerseys for their game today.  Disney has recently purchased the entire 'Star Wars' franchise from George Lucas with a promised release of new movies, video games, and collectable crap coming out every year.  People are even out there buying the 'red-shirts' from 'Star Trek', in tribute to their rather twisted meaning (these were usually the security guys who never had first and last names and seldom lasted half way through an entire episode).  Something has turned the world upside down and inside-out, and it's become popular to be a geek whether you actually are or not.

I'm sorry people but this just isn't fair.  I've had to spend in excess of a half a century attempting to deal with, if not hide my geekhood as best I can from the rest of society.  To no one's shock, those attempts have been largely unsuccessful.  That being said, I'm finding it far too painful, time-consuming, and largely unsuccessful for me to now calmly surrender this once pariah status identity to the whims of popular culture.  Do you have any idea what's going to happen to the cost of replacement copies for my worn out John Carter books?  Do you comprehend what kind of inflation is happening to the 'Star Trek' Enterprise collectibles market?  Don't you realize that I'm now going to have to buy a Chewbacca Cubs jersey when I'm sure it will come out next year?  Enough already!

You captains of the football team and ex-cheerleaders need to keep your grubby hands off of the geek identity that's been my private burden for so many years!  Isn't it enough that you were able to establish superior social status in my youth without now attempting to rip the only thing left to me in a lost-in-book, front-of-the-class, pocket protector distinctiveness.  Having murdered me in the past by pointedly remarking on my awkwardness and terminal shyness among my fellows, must you likewise now rob me of my ability to commit social suicide every time I now attempt some form of reinstatement to your existing social order?  Having submitted to your whims in paisley, tie-die, and bell bottoms in my youth; must I also now surrender my technological hideaways and fantasy and sci-fi sanctuaries.

Dammit, that's it!  I'm calling Lifelock tomorrow.  I don't know if they can actually protect from all this rampant Pop Culture Identity Theft, but it's at least worth a try.  Now where did I leave that slide ruler case?

Adult Participation Awards

I was sitting quietly this weekend attempting to come up with a topic suitable for a weekend rant, and decided at some point to do a bit of channel surfing in in attempt to find something to distract myself from the temporary lack of creativity from which I was suffering.  Five minutes and some 100 channels later, all I could think to myself was, "You lousy bastards!"

You know who you are.  It's you timeout giving, namby-pamby can't keep score for T-ball game, let alone paddle or raise your voice to your ill-behaving rug rats that I'm talking about.  If all of that wasn't bad enough however, it was you bunch of bachelor's degrees in underwater basket-weaving cretins who decided that awarding only those who succeed might hurt the itty bitty little feelings of your attentioned-starved crumb crunchers.  In order to nuture their already overblown self-esteem therefore, we must instead give everybody who showed up to play a 'participation trophy'.  Well I hope your happy now.   

Take a hard look at what your plastic handout nurturing has done to the world ... or at least the mid-season line up for television shows on the cable networks, if you want to see the results of your folly.  Every Tom, Dick, Harry, Bubba, Goober, and Billy Bob now thinks they deserve to be the star their own show if they're willing to act like a self-willed two year-old when the cameras are running (unless you're Honey Boo Boo, in which case you have to be six).  Of course if you don't see a gender role or level of immaturity that fits you, have no fear.  Maybe instead you'll get yours if you can be a selfish, spoiled, rich bitch; living a life in any major city around the country in such style as would make you the envy of many; or would if you weren't such poorly disguised trailer trash, flaunting your lifestyle and then having round table discussions on your lack of taste, humor and maturity.

But hey, if you can't get your prize by the lifestyle you lead, maybe some obscure form of employment might get you the trinket you're looking for ... just because you're special.  Maybe you can make your living buying the crap that somebody left behind in a storage container and sell it to somebody else for a lot of money.  Perhaps you can be a star instead if you drive from place to place in rural areas and steal stuff that a from illiterate hoarders with barns full of antiques that you can purchase for as little as possible, so that you can make an obscene profit by reselling them to a bar or restaurant that the rich chicks and their families can have expensive dinners at, while calling them 'quaint'. 

Don't want to waste your time traveling the road for fun and profit ... no problem.  You can instead bake cakes, be an exterminator, give tatoos, or act like an idiot while trying to catch alligators (or turtles for that matter).  Maybe instead you can buy, sell, or repair guns (even evil semi-automatic ones); or catch seafood in the form of tuna or crab, swordfish or lobsters.  If you can't catch and kill animals for the table, maybe you can get a gig on a new show that will explore the interesting and exciting lives of the taxidermists (mounting dead animals for display).  Don't worry, in today's world we award the trophies of cable shows aplenty no matter what it is you do for a living; especially if you can turn yourself into someone seen as a colorful character when the spotlight is shining on you (you know, psychotic).

I know that instead, Reality shows have been blamed (by me in fact) on the almost complete lack of creativity in what could laughingly be called modern entertainment; but from another perspective, all of this could also be construed as participation awards on the part of writers, directors, and producers.  It's certainly an easy enough conclusion to draw from the constant stream of B-movie knock offs and barely updated TV shows turned into movies (and vice-versa).  You know the list, from "The Longest Yard" to "The Magnificent Seven" (which is itself a remake of "The Seven Samurai"); from "The Brady Bunch" and "Starsky and Hutch", to "The A-Team" and "Charlie's Angels".  I didn't mind it so much when they were giving the starring roles in these tawdry productions as participation trophies to actors like Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson (who unfortunately, keep showing up), but now they've managed to convince actors with real skills to participate in these cinematic circle-jerks (shame on you Liam Neeson).

And lest we forget, there's always the shows like "American Idol".  Don't get me wrong, some of these people have real talent, but not nearly enough of them apparently to make these shows run a full season.  So instead of being regaled with top-notch performances, we're tortured by those who won a Kareoke contest that they were the only ones to participate in.  Instead a talent, we're insulted by those who've received so many participation awards that they think they must have talent as a consequence.  Worse yet, we're 'nuclear optioned' with contestants so hideous that they're rewarded by a rebroadcast of their train wreck performance (something so horrible you can't turn away) as their particpation trophy.

So I hope you're happy now that instead of stringing together some literary pearls of wisdom, I am instead forced to castigate you bunch of New-Age, "We Are The World" singing, modern math morons.  I hope that you're enjoying it now that your once self-absorbed rug rats have come into full bloom as the narcissistic, egocentric snobs you always hoped for ... thanks in large part to all the useless plastic hardware that you've buried them in over the years.  I pray that you take great comfort not only in the fact that your participation trophies have proved an unnecessary bolstering of their already bloated self-esteem in most cases, but have created a number of ill-tempered, uncontrollable, and useless mirror watchers masquerading as adults.  In fact, I can't help but be curious if you now realize that your counter-productive trinket ceremonies have not only done more harm than good to those involved, but that you tree-huggers also recognize that the useless symbols you insisted upon are now incapable of even being properly recycled.  

And as you contemplate the years of particpation award child-rearing you engaged in, I hope that you enjoy your high-priced cable menus and the useless Adult Participation Awards that consitute the only alleged entertainment available on them.  Crap!  I hope they're showing reruns of "Downton Abbey" tonight.

Isn't It Funny Too (II)

It seems that even more "Isn't Funny ..." ideas occurred to me after the first such posting was put up.  I even got a few suggestions from friends such as Brad Reynolds that needed to have a place somewhere in a listing.  Like the previous list, these little bits of life's ironies are not in fact, the periodic WTH (pardon my capitals) moments that suddenly occur to us, but more in line with the overall ludicrous nature of what we laughingly call civilization in general, and our legal and political systems in particular.  Because these are additional offerings in a second posting, I couldn't decide how to phrase this one.  I therefore chose to both applicable word usages in yet another bit of irony. (Though I suppose that 'Isn't It Also Funny would be a more proper grammatical form.  Get over it.)

• Isn't funny that one of the centers of liberalism in this country (Hollywood) makes much of its money from movies depicting things that Liberals absolutely abhor and the rest from traditional Conservative values? 
• Isn't it also funny that the government pays people to produce more of things that it says are bad (tobacco and oil), then makes other people pay them in turn (cigarette and gas taxes) for using what are supposed to be the bad products produced under such government encouragement?  
• Isn't it funny that the only thing more annoying that a politician giving another fairly well-written, but seemingly endless set of teleprompter prepared remarks are the hours of even more boring analysis, historical perspective, and critical parsing of those remarks by 'inside the beltway' pundits?
• Isn't it funny that some of the worst acting on television comes from those working in reality TV shows that are attempting to portray ... themselves? 
• Isn't funny, speaking of reality shows, that many of them are people who are rich or attempting to become so, at a time when those of wealth are considered little more than an object of scorn? 
• Isn't it funny that the more channels that you have on your cable system, the less likely that you will be able to find something you want to watch on TV?
• Isn't it funny that after queuing up hundreds of movies on Netflix that you want to make sure to watch at one point, that you can go down the entire list later, unconvinced that you want to give any of them the 90 minutes required?  
• Isn't it funny that some of the same states that have very strict laws against driving while under the influence also have drive-thru liquor stores?
• Isn't it funny that wineries take great pains to provide stopper systems to keep air out of wine, but recommend that you let a recently opened bottle 'breathe' before serving it?
• Isn't it funny the longer these lists get, the less amusing any of this becomes?     

Yeah, I'm still not laughing either... 

Such A Sentimental Scmuck

(I know that the weekend rant is a bit late this weekend, but some of this is harder to write that others.)

For those of you hormonally imbalanced from eating leftover Halloween candy or too charged with adrenaline from the election results to notice, it has officially become the Holiday season.  While many may complain that Thanksgiving gets a rather short shrift in this process, I don't find the couple of weeks accorded to a turkey and the Pilgrims a big problem on our way to the fat guy with a white beard taking center state (and no, the personal resemblance has nothing to do with this attitude .... at least as far as you know).

In fact, I choose to lump this multiple holiday period together into one big "happy happy time" of over-the-top emotions that must be fought with all of the strength that a over weight, gray-haired, stogie-smoking Curmudgeon possesses.  After all, the kids are grown and moved away (and the fact that I did as much or more of the moving is besides the point), the grand kids went where the kids did (which for some reason they tend to do), and there is no significant other currently in my life.  (This last of course, is a subject on which a posting of its own could be written, but that would in fact be another post and not this one.)  So as the holiday season comes into full bloom, it's my hand on the TV remote, with none to complain or compete when it comes to channel selection.  As the title of this post suggests, this mastery of my digital world inevitably lead down a path of sentimental pap.

Because in spite of what I at least would consider my nature, I have found myself increasingly and surprisingly dialed in on offerings from the Hallmark Channel.  Unlike many other networks who have long abandoned the callings of their network names in favor of low-budget, no-plot reality shows, the Hallmark Channel has remained true to delivering a product in keeping with their line of cards (you know, sentimental crap for all occasions).  We are not talking about Cecil B DeMille cinematic efforts of legendary proportion here, but the made-for-TV movies that these are the offspring of.  What we see are TV sitcom stars whose careers apparently disappeared when their shows departed returning for efforts in the way they used to for "Love Boat" episodes.  All of which are obviously being filmed in Canada with the same cast of supporting players as every other Hallmark movie (and a lot of the non-network dramas) because it's cheaper to film in Vancouver, BC than in NYC in spite of the fact that the exchange rate has gone the other way.  The generate a suprising number of offerings with a small book of cookie cutter plots that though formulaic, have not completely lost their appeal.

There are no car crashes except tragic ones that lead to lost loved ones, and no car chases except those to reach an airport or train station before a newly-found or rediscovered loved one departs.  There is little violence and less nudity, though the actors are certainly still attractive enough to pull it off.  There's always a hint of comedy and a dose of drama on which these tales are based; with the supposed cliffhanger ending being one in which everyone in the the fictional community (and the audience) knows that the star-crossed lovers are going to reunite before they do.  In other words it's schmaltz, pure and simple.

And yet it serves its purpose in this crazy world of ours today.  This is the entertainment the way most of us my age remember it.  It's where family is everything and the good guys always wins.  It's where the right guy gets the girl, and where love and the holiday spirit always triumph.  Now most of us today are going into a period where we may not be able to be with our families that way that we'd like, where holidays are often a time of greater stress, and where being alone is simply something that must be borne.  Aren't these times where such diversions are the true meaning of entertainment?  While the knowledge is ever-present that the world can be a bad place and is certainly not as simple as stories we love to watch, isn't their very presence something that helps to give us a little hope and the strength to go on?  Isn't an underlying belief in their positive nature something that we hope lies at the heart of every one of us?  For even if the world cannot be the these movies portray, isn't it still necessary for us to believe so?

And so as the Holiday Season begins, you will have to forgive me my occasional retreat into "Good Witch" marathons and the all-day Christmas specials already playing in this Norman Rockwell cable TV world.  It's hard enough to face today's all-too-harsh realities without allowing one's self to be occasionally diverted by such optimistic fiction.  It may be true that underneath this cranky old, stogie smoking Curmudgeon is in fact another one that's even worse; but apparently somewhere deep underneath all of that lies little more that another Sentimental Schmuck.     

TFP Column: Debt Ceiling Debate - Harrumph!

Get out the popcorn boys and girls, cause this week's effort for the TFP connects some classics of the big screen with the big doings in Washington DC. Of course it all started when I realized that the national debt was like the creature in 1958's "The Blob". It's an amorphous creature that grows to astounding proportions by sucking the life out of everything it touches (you know, like government). Once such insight had been reached, this weeks effort for the TFP, "Debt Ceiling Debate - Harrumph!", was off to the races. One aspect after another in the debate lent themselves to movie classic movie references, with a classic ending from an even more classic Mel Brooks effort. And while I will tell you in confidence that I am rather proud of my poor attempt to write by referencing cinematic culture (something Editor-in-Chief Michael Miller does far better than I), it would be both foolish and disingenuous not to admit that there will be far more (and far better) in this weekend's edition of the TFP than my struggling effort. My recommendation therefore would be to spend a little time with both the print and the website editions of Toledo's largest Sunday circulation and Best Weekly Newspaper, the Toledo Free Press.

History - According To The Movies

While only a modest student of the history and certainly no expert on cinema, I cannot help but notice that more of the former is apparently being defined by the latter these days. For some inexplicable reason, screenwriters in Hollywood appear to have become our new historians. This became glaringly apparent to me lately while watching a day of programs covering a variety of past events (or supposed ones) shown on the network devoted to the topic, 'The History Channel'.  


The Battle of Thermopylae is understood these days only through the eyes of screenwriter and Director Zack Snyder's "300". The Declaration of Independence and Founding Fathers now appear to be defined by "National Treasure". Knowledge of The Ark of the Covenant is understood, but only according George Lucas in "Raiders of the Lost Ark". George make a similar contribution regarding another Biblical artifact in a later effort, "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade" regarding the Holy Grail. Of course the Holy Grail is also (and perhaps even more confusingly defined) by the movie adapted from the Dan Brown novel, "The Di Vinci Code". 
(Though personally I find more humor and meaning in "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"; as well as a more realistic depiction of the sometimes bizarre beliefs of the period surrounding the quests searching for it.) 


The tragedy in these somewhat entertaining shows were the comments by at least supposedly reputable historians (mostly professors from colleges that I had never heard of) regarding the relation of these fictional movie efforts with actual events in history. These entertainment efforts were treated by these educators as legitimate sources of reference material, and the merits and interpretations of directors and screenwriters who were trying to write a story that would sell tickets and popcorn as data worthy of consideration in a careful study of the subject. 


Are movie-makers then to become the new academics of history? Will we have to dumb the world down to the level of an Adam Sandler film and throw in some computer-generated effects in order to make it palatable to a society that increasingly accepts Reality Shows as a non-dramatic depictions of modern society? Have we sunk so low in the science of history and so bastardized the process of educating our young on such subjects that we are no longer concerned about the facts, but only about the entertainment value of their greater truth? Shall we ignore any factual details that don't move the plot along. throw in some occasional fictitious romance to tug at the heartstrings of an audience, or add a car chase (whether automobiles had been invented or not) in order to keep them riveted to their seats.  


By such standards of academia, how can Robin Hood ever be considered as a fictional character when he's been played by Errol Flynn, Sean Connery, Kevin Costner (yeesh), and Russell Crowe? (Yes, I know I left out Cary Elwes playing the role in "Robin Hood: Men In Tights", but I suspect that most at least still understand that Mel Brooks is not a historian, in spite of making the movie "History of the World: Part I".)


Shall we further accept that German soldiers and Roman Senators alike speak with crisp British accents and that Hitler was the only Nazi to speak with a German one? So let me state for the record for those of you apparently unable to understand the rudiments of critical thinking, academic study, or fictional entertainment:

These are movies damn it!

This would be the equivalent of taking a degree in Biblical studies comprised of courses consisting of the collected efforts of the major studios on the subject (which is probably offered at a university as we speak and that I am simply unaware of). "The Ten Commandments", "Samson and Delilah", "David and Bathsheba","The Robe", and "King of Kings" among others, could provide all of the material required to pass such a course and perhaps even earn a Bachelor's degree on the subject. You could even throw in Norman Jewison's "Jesus Christ Superstar" and Kevin Smith's "Dogma" for post-graduate studies. 


Better still, maybe we can have them run up a CG animated version and make every subject of academia more entertaining. If all of the facts fail to matter, why not make these historical characters more handsome, the voices more stirring, and maybe even drop a safe or two on their heads and have some stars dancing around their melons to lighten the dark moments of the Dark Ages. Of course we could just go back to treating the science of the study of history as an academic pursuit, and allow the fascinating nature of events that occurred to be entertainment enough. Nah ....