I haven't posted this here since I don't use LJ very much any more, but a few weeks ago a fan-made animated Star Trek series premiered.  I play regular character Lieutenant Commander Sirol, Chief of Security.  He's the Andorian.  I also wrote a lot of the dialogue for this episode, especially the scene at the beginning and the scene where Gage pulls Admiral Bryant into the ready room.

You can watch it here.

Enjoy and share it with whomever.

1. For the past several weeks I've been sick.  It's the same thing about once every winter (especially this dry one): a sore throat for a few days then a few weeks of phlegm.  I'm on the waning stage of phlegm, but I think there's something going on that I don't recall happening before.  In order to rid my throat of the phlegm I've been trying to cough, but I keep just missing the target phlegm and it's just air that ends up hurting the passageway.  In effect it's like trying to blow out candles on a birthday cake when the cake is sitting on a chair on the other side of the table.

2. It's been exactly three weeks since the last time I've eaten meat.  For years I've seen others example and wanted to become a vegetarian.  I don't know if this will take, but I realize that most of my diet is basically vegetarian anyway.  The only exception is really when I eat out.  So it's more slices of cheese pizza for me.

3. Having watched a few episodes of Late Night with Jimmy Fallon I've realized that the show would be slightly more enjoyable if it were on Nickelodeon in the early 90's, preferably as part of the SNICK lineup.

4. According to the Phoenix of the three movies profiled, the Disney movie is actually the least racist.  Given their description of The Blind Side, that's less surprising than I thought it would be.

5. I was encouraged by last night's State of the Union address and Republican response.  Both in the number of bipartisan ovations and the content of the response, it's clear to me that both sides of the aisle have more in common than not, in a good way.  I think if they realize it then they can maybe actually get things done.

Last year, I came across this blog entry from Roger Ebert.  MB is a fan of his writing and, I too, find him to be my favorite, and maybe the best critic today.  It's regarding the film Creation about the marriage between Charles Darwin and Emma Wedgwood featuring excellent character actor Toby Jones in a supporting role as Thomas Henry Huxley, one of Darwin's champions.

The Los Angeles Natural History Museum has a Darwin exhibit that's a tie-in to the movie.  It stars Paul Bettany as Charles Darwin (which is especially appropriate because Bettany played the naturalist doctor who wanted to catch insects and birds on the Galapagos in the film Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World).  The clip from the opening of the exhibit, along with the trailer is here.

I recognized the Natural History Museum from the clip because the last time I was there was to see a rock show there.  On Friday January 9th, I went to something called First Fridays.  It's something that the Los Angeles County Museum of Natural History does the first Friday of every month for the first six months of the year.  It combines scientific lectures with indie rock bands (that month were the bands Plants and Animals, from Quebec, and local favorites The Little Ones).  Since it's near the USC campus, and I used to work at a Santa Monica annex of UCLA, it was one hell of a long way from my job.  So I couldn't make it for the lecture, but I was there to see the speaker signing her book Pilgrim on the Great Bird Continent: The Importance of Everything and Other Lessons from Darwin's Lost Notebooks by Lyanda Lynn Haupt. 

As I had my copy signed, Haupt cheerily offered me a sticker--a portrait of Darwin with his fighting height and weight (5'11" and 163lbs., almost exactly my own statistics), and I attached the sticker into the new book next to Haupt's:

To Eric--

Happy Darwin's 200th Birthday.

Lyanda Lynn Haupt

The book is really a piece of literary criticism through the eyes of a fellow naturalist.  An ornithologist, she focused on Darwin's relationship with birds, opening many of her chapters with quotes from his Ornithological Notes.  Though the scientific material is challenging to the layperson, it's completely unpretentious, passionate, and a valentine to Darwin's philosophy.  First she set up the background of her subject before swooning over his sensitivity, his charming quirkiness, and genuine curiousity.

He came from a rich family; his father was a wealthy doctor and financier, and sent young Charles to the University of Edinburgh (well-known as the graduate school of the brilliant MB), and he went to study under the tutelage of botanist John Stevens Henslow so much he became known as "The Man Who Walks with Henslow."  He would prepare for his journey on the HMS Beagle intending to study not only the nature around him, but how to study the nature around him.  He was a man of gentle awe, even innocence as he came of age on his trip around the world.

Haupt reviews with intimate detail excerpts from his Ornithological Notes, intent on examining the development of Charles Darwin from a mere boy to a man in the time on the ship and afterwords, as he developed his theories and honed them for publication.  Her relationship to the subject matter recalls a Sarah Vowell-esque mix of memoir, research diary, and editorializing, perhaps in a less overtly comic writing style.  There is an optimism in her voice that demonstrates what a kindred spirit she's found in Darwin.

When reading the book I found myself comparing Darwin to Jane Goodall.  Both scientists came of age as naturalists and people during their most famous endeavors.  As a result, both scientists reinvented their professions through lack of knowledge of proper procedure.  That's a risky tactic that only works for geniuses.

It worked for Orson Welles who taught himself filmmaking in the director's chair of Citizen Kane, and it worked for Darwin and Goodall.  It was their innocence, curiousity, and youth that enabled them to empathize with the animals they encountered.  The terminology Darwin used was an attempt at proper taxonomy, but he also used language as a way to personalize his subjects.  He saw through their eyes in a time when that simply wasn't done.  It was a unique concept even more than a century later when Goodall would name her chimpanzee subjects.  As with most legendary breakthroughs in history, Charles Darwin was not the first person to come up with the idea of evolution.  But it was the importance of his methodology that transformed him and Goodall from simply scientists with new knowledge to share in their given fields to the true innovators and geniuses we remember today.  Without that philosophy Darwin would not have been able to theorize just why species evolve, and without it Goodall would have dismissed the idea that chimpanzees could have so much in common with humans such as war, compassion, and tool-making.

And just as Haupt's book was a character study of Charles Darwin, so too will this film be one.  Based on what I've read so far Creation is not so much about the struggle between science and religion as it is a portrait of a family within the context of that cultural and philosophical shift in history.  Sadly it was only recently that distribution in America was granted.  Apparently we in this country are still in the eye of that storm.  I'd very much be interested in seeing the impact of this film.

1. Dress simultaneously in clothing that uses one's school colors and evokes The Hustler starring Jackie Gleason.

2. Whenever you find dinner rolls, make sure you reenact Fatty Arbuckle's dancing rolls sequence (stolen by Chaplin).

3. When one of your utensils is a steak knife, make sure you carve all your food accordingly. Even if your macaroni and cheese is medium rare when you could have sworn you ordered it medium well.

4. Play a mean game of pool using that pool cue holder as often as possible.

5. In casual conversation, catch up with people, by running up to them with your well-run stories.

6. Play every British-y pub game there, no matter how dangerous you are with darts.

7. Be willing to dust off the stand-up, but only on the very unlikely chance that someone manages to find a microphone.

8. If they can't, leave them wanting more.

9.

10.

Fall Harvest Scarecrow Event

When I moved back to Massachusetts in February, one of the things I was interested in was the Massachusetts health care plan through Commonwealth Connector called Commonwealth Care.  I applied for it because I didn't have a job (and I still don't have a steady one).  I looked it over thoroughly before sending it off in the mail, but I must have forgotten to check the box that said I was a citizen of the US.

Several weeks later I got a phone call saying they needed me to fax over my birth certificate.  I felt so presidential.  So, I faxed it and tried to call to confirm that they got it.  Every number I got was a voice mail, so I left a message in the voice mail box of the person who called in the first place.

Several weeks later I got a letter stating that I didn't list my driver's license information on the form.  Having just moved back when I filled it out, I didn't change my license before I mailed out the application.  So, I called to ask if there was a way to confirm that they picked up the fax when I sent it out this time.  They said the only thing to do was to wait until I received another letter in the mail.

A couple of weeks ago I got that letter.  No mention of my license, but they did find out that I was working for a temp agency.  Well, I wasn't working for them so much as I was receiving temp assignments through them.  They would now like a reply explaining why I didn't mention them on my initial application, before I applied to the temp agency of course!

Naturally the reason they want an explanation is to determine whether or not I could get health insurance through them instead of the state.  I called up the temp agency and they told me that health insurance would only be available on the weeks that I actually work for them, so very intermittently.

If the state of Massachusetts isn't satisfied with that answer, or if they aren't satisfied with the fact that I haven't had health insurance all year, because of their shenanigans, then they'll tax me for it.  Part of me suspects that their communication almost exclusively through snail mail has been a deliberate act, not only to avoid giving me health insurance, but to have an excuse to tax me for it.

All this is prologue to my activities of the past week.

For the past several months I've been following this health care debate, just as everyone else has.  I'm having a hard time understanding this incredibly complex issue, and I have some serious concerns about it.  But at least I'm willing to admit that I don't get it, and that I desperately want a sober analysis of these different bills.  What's made me nervous about the general tenor of debate at all, not just on health care reform, is that it's gotten vicious, violent, and downright frothy.  Opponents act as if President Obama is less a man with an idea that may simply be different from theirs and more Frankenstein's monster, deserving of, in their angry mob minds, pitchforks and torches.

As the insanity escalated throughout the summer I've grown more and more nervous that some politician somewhere will get hurt or killed by people brandishing weapons in a reckless conflagration of the First and Second Amendments.

That said, I obviously have a personal stake in what goes on with health care reform.  I can state that my position is only that I am for whatever would get someone in my situation portable health insurance.  I would even like for it to be portable between states, or hell, countries as well.  If a public option is what's necessary to encourage competition and drive down costs then so be it.  But if another solution is equally viable then I'd like to hear that as well.  A public option is exactly that, an option.  So, the vitriol against such a thing confuses me, but if it's not something that could get passed, then I'd be in favor of a trigger option in which public options would be instituted if the private sector fails to lower costs.

So, when I heard about two events over the past week that would allow the public to get involved, I jumped at the chance to participate.  MB and I met at Somerville High School on Wednesday night for a town hall meeting with Mayor Joseph Curtatone, US House Representative Michael Capuano, and headliner, Senator John Kerry.

As we moved along in the line, a gauntlet of petitioners and partiers and sign carriers and a lone Obama as Hitler poster surrounded us.  The Obama poster was made by LaRouche supporters who claimed that "He's changed."  It still seemed mild compared to worst of what I've seen on television.

It was milder still inside the auditorium.  While there were a few hecklers in the balcony, and a couple of others sprinkled throughout, it was mostly a civil affair.  The mayor opened and hosted, with Capuano as a feature and John Kerry headlining.  And you could really tell that that was the hierarchy between the three.  John Kerry was surprisingly impressive.  Though it was the second time I'd ever seen him in person (I saw him vote in 2004 and then was part of a crowd that followed him to The Bell in Hand Tavern).  If I saw him speak with that much passion in person, my reluctant vote for him then would have been an enthusiastic one.

But I wanted my question answered.  I wrote about my saga and I closed it by asking what could be done about the communication and the taxation system.  In a survey of the audience, Kerry asked everyone about their insurance.  I felt left out because I couldn't raise my hand at any point, since I don't even have insurance.  Through my question I wanted to make sure that a national plan wouldn't have the same issues as the Massachusetts one.  During the town hall meeting, I jotted down a condensed version.  Alas, I didn't get to ask it.  Despite the libertarians directly behind me who bitched about everything, simply for the sake of bitching, we had a fun and informative night.

Today, I went to a rally on the Boston Common for health care reform.  I took the Red Line to Park Street and snuck into my old dorm building to use the bathroom.  When I got back to the gazebo someone saw my Obama shirt underneath my blazer and quickly recruited me to hand out signs.  After a while another staff person asked if I'd rather do "visibility," so I asked what that was.  Soon I was walking up towards the State House with someone's home made sign which read "HEALTH CARE REFORM RALLY @ Boston Common."  The marker smelled of headache.

I was a tourist attraction.

Since the corner of Park Street and Beacon Street are right where the State House, Shaw Memorial, and Freedom Trail converge, it's along the path of tourists on foot and tourists riding any number of tour buses and trolleys and amphibious vehicles.  With my Lennon-esque shades, mop-top, blazer, and rally paraphernalia, I was an odd little sight.  So, instead of screaming for people to go to the rally, I decided to be a little more subtle and simply help people who looked like they needed help on the Freedom Trail.

I had a Mr. Rosso moment when one college kid saw me and said "Right on dude" like I was wearing beads and smelt of pot.  There was one truck with a guy in the passenger seat who was trying to crack on me by saying that he didn't want the government to pull the plug on him at sixty, he wanted to live to be eighty.

As if a synthesis of all that, I saw a particular panhandler I've recognized for the past ten years.  He's distinctive for his voice that loudly elongates each syllable of the inquiry "GOOOT ANYYY SPAAARE CHAAANGGGE?"  Well today he asked for cigarettes as well.  He would ask little children if they smoked and their nervous parents yanked their children away as they admonished him for smoking too.  Trying to divert him away from my mission of providing visibility for the health care rally I suggested that I saw some smokers behind the State House, or at Fanueil Hall.  "I don't go there," he tossed off, barely noticing me as he continued his pacing.  It was about this time that my shift was done.  I shrugged my shoulders and exaggerated stepping backwards for the amusement of the tourists in the parked tourbus and then turned and walked toward the rally, draping the posterboard sign on my back.

When I got there I couldn't hear the public speakers.  The PA system left much to be desired, but a bigger problem was that the crowd was talking amongst itself in normal outdoor conversational volume.  Throughout the rally I wasn't all that crazy about the crowd's actions.  Representative Stephen Lynch was booed off the stage as a Blue Dog Democrat.  I support a public option, but if someone takes the time to come to your rally, then they deserve to be heard respectfully.

Eventually, the rally ended and we all started marching.  I was lucky to be near the front of the crowd as we cut towards the corner of Boylston and Charles Street behind the Boston Common cemetery.  One of the staffers from SEIU handed out chant sheets so that we don't need to write them in our heads spontaneously.  But the crowd didn't need to anyway, as bullhorn-armed SEIU representatives chanted to the beat of The Second Line Social Aid and Pleasure Society Brass Band.  We followed that band along the left side of Boylston to the end of Copley Plaza before circling around to the front of Trinity Church where the event ended after they played a few more songs.  Still wearing my OFA-MA badge, I asked my fellow State House sign-holder if he thought there was anything we had to do, and he said he didn't think so. 

Still, I walked back to the Common to help put away some stuff and turn in my badge.  I kept my sign as a souvenir.  I may regret it as the marker smelled of headache.

I wish I had health insurance.

(or for the LJ version of this post: My turn to tell the tale)

I think I've just been the furthest inland in North America I've ever been.

It started on Friday night, a trip Andy, Jessie, MB and I had been planning for weeks: MB and Jessie's high school friend, Heather's baby shower.  The plan evolved from a night-long driving relay between Andy and me to Huntingdon, PA (just this side of Pittsburgh) to a more sensible break at a hotel in Pittston (near Scranton).  The earlier iteration of the plan was scrapped when the three others realized how I get weird--even for me--when I get tired.  That kind of high could be dangerous behind the wheel--or if I'm a passenger that thinks the wheel is now some kind of teddy bear or something.

In the week prior to the trip I had tried to conserve energy to little profit by sleeping as much as possible.  On Friday I just drank as much caffeine and vitamins at lunch as possible and showered to wake up when I got home.  We ordered some Pinky's Pizza and ate with Jessie and Andy before leaving to the classic Boston road trip song "Roadrunner" by the Modern Lovers.

As would be the trend for the weekend I would drive through the worst of the weather, but it was quite a luxury to have Andy's GPS, whom he named Jane after the voice he chose.  We would play a game where we'd try to get the ETA to tick down by making up as much time as possible.  I had clocked us at an estimated arrival time at the Knight's Inn of about 12:50AM before we stopped at a McDonald's to stretch and snack.

To keep me awake, MB played me some Beatles CDs so that I could drive and sing.

The motel was decent for the price, except for the smell of BO that permeated the air (I'm usually turned off by the excessive disinfectant smell in most roadside motels, but at least that is presumably sanitary).

The next morning I beat my alarm by waking up around 7:00 and decided to see what the continental breakfast consisted of here.  It was a box of twelve doughnuts for the whole hotel, some regular and decaf coffee, and a fountain with apple and orange juice.  I grabbed some fliers and newspapers on the off chance we'd want to explore Scranton before heading to the shower or on the way back the next day and returned to the room just in time for everyone else to wake up.

We settled on a place about two doors down for real breakfast, it was a Perkins, which is apparently Pennsylvia's answer to Bickford's. 

Omelettes for everyone.

We made a few stops on the way for gas and food and to donate some bodily fluids to the local sewage systems, including a stop at a Pizza Hut/KFC.  It had been years since I've even been inside a sit-down Pizza Hut.  I remember going to the one on Boston Road as a kid with pitchers of neon Mountain Dew and pan pizza.  Here we got some pizza rolls to justify using their bathrooms.  It didn't occur to us until later that they might have meat in them so MB didn't have any and I ate three out of four, including one that had been baking on the dashboard (There are starving kids in China).

The shower was pretty nice.  I had only been to one other baby shower, it was for a doctor co-worker of mine at UCLA.  He had been subject to some games that were at once embarrassing, gross, and touching in their thoughtfulness.  I have now witnessed what it's like to change a diaper when the contents are foul peanut butter. 

This one was different though.  It was in a friend of Heather's house and there was a pool and barbecue food and people of all ages.  The only people around our age though were Heather and her husband Sean.  Andy and I managed to have fun instigating a water war with some little children though.  Inter Arma Enim Silent Leges.

We drove to Heather's house paralyzed with laughter from tasteless jokes, though sadly none were inspired by the West Hempfield Middle School visible from their house.  It was here that I realized my long-dormant fear of dogs.  I didn't grow up with pets and my neighbor's dog backed me into a corner at a young age.  Having staked out our rooms for the night, and with the Siberian Huskies now a calm mass of resting fluff on the floor, the six of us sat on opposite couches exchanging hilarious stories of our wacky adventures, while I tried to help Andy with some Sudokus on his computer.

The next morning we chatted some more over some eggs, bacon, and toast while we plotted the trip back.  MB and I were interested in stopping in a city at some point in the day to walk around and say we were somewhere (of course with four people blogging about the same thing, surely someone will believe us?).  We, however, realized the daunting task ahead of us as we planned a trip that had taken us two days to get there to be done in one.

Andy and I would switch off more frequently than the past two days and we'd play our game of watching the ETA tick downward, even as we made several stops.  The total stopping time was about two hours, we only lost one.

The route we took home was Interstate 76, not the video game from the 90s, through New Jersey, to New York, where we were dangerously low on gas and made a wrong turn to the gas station, and north on Interstates 95 and 91 to the Mass Pike, back onto 95 and Route 2.  We ate at a Chinese/American buffet and I thought that Jane would want us to take 91 up to Springfield, bringing me close to my folks home, but it wasn't to be.  It was probably an expensive set of tolls (Andy's car has EZ Pass, so we'll figure it out later), but it was worth the saved time through Pennsylvania's perpetual construction, despite one last traffic jam on the Mass Pike.

We had traveled five states in about 51 hours.  It was quite an adventure, and quite a feat, but it would have been nice to have another two days so that we could actually walk around some cities along the way.

Perhaps we will the next time someone has a baby.