In Italy we have a saying...


It doesn't matter
how many dragons you slay,
who gets the princess?

(Directly inspired by this weeks Top Chef)
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So, Michael Chrichton died. Which is really quite sad as he has added an enormous amount to our cultural landscape (Andromeda Strain, Jurassic Park, Congo, Sphere, ER, etc). In honor of him I've spent the last week going through some of his stuff. Re-reading Prey, watching The Great Train Robbery, I even watched an episode or two from the first season of ER.


Some responses:


ER is not, and never will be, one of my favorite shows. Congrats on getting George Clooney in the mix but your main contender, your forever peer, Law & Order is forever superior. In all of it's incarnations.


Prey is a magnificently paced book. I finished it in three sittings and kind of wanted another three sittings worth. Crichton has always been a voice of reason in the face of unchecked expansion of technology. From the very start of his career, he's been concerned with our technology interrupting the natural course of things. Basically, he didn't want us to screw it up. Admirable.


The Great Train Robbery was one of my favorite books when I was younger and is a pretty fantastic movie. Donald Sutherland and Sean Connery reveling in a caper filled film? Perfect.


So there, a fifteen second retrospective of how Mr. Crichton has wormed his way into my life, all for the better.


Enough.

Most People Are Djs

hold steady ybor city. you're 

up to your neck in sweat and 

wet confetti. if 

you want to get a little bit heady. 

it's gonna have

to get a little bit heavy. 

we're jamming jetskis into the jetty now. 

with some guy who looks like rocco sefredi. 

andi've heard he's been dead once already.

it's going down 

right now

in lowertown. 

they're skipping off the good ship u s s s 

sexuality. 

searching for the merchant with

the five minute delivery. 

they're slipping soft rock into

the setlist now. they got some new guy

that looks just like phil lynott. 

we're stumbling

but i think we're still in it. 

it's a big world girl and 

i can't understand it. we're 

tiny white specks on a bright blue planet.

i was a teenage ice machine. 

i kept it cool in coolers. i drank until i dreamed. 

when i dreamed i always dreamed about the scene. 

all these kids look like little lambs 

looking up at me.

i was a twin cities trash bin. 

i did everything they'd give me. i'd 

jam it in my system. she

had me cornered in the kitchen. i

said i'll do anything but listen 

to some weird talking chick who 

just can't understand 

that we're hot soft spots 

on a hard rock planet.

baby take off your beret. 

everyone's a critic and most people are djs.

working backwards from 

the doctor to the drugs. from 

the packie to the taxi to the cabbie 

to the club. 

a thousand kids 

will fall in love in 

all the clubs 

tonight. a thousand other kids 

will end up gushing blood 

tonight. two thousand kids 

wont get too much sleep 

tonight. two thousand kids 

they still feel pretty sweet

tonight. 

i still feel pretty sweet.