Unmistakable Fruit: An Interview with Soul-Junk’s Glen Galloway

Soul-Junk’s album 1950 was stuck in my car stereo for an entire year. It was the late 90s, and I had never heard anything like it. Not only was it a collection of rough, trashy and deceptively simple indie rock gems, it was also a full-on worship album. And more importantly, a worship album that I liked. Each song was basically just straight up scripture broken into choruses and verses, but unlike many of its “contemporary Christian” counterparts, there was nothing artificial here. No attempt to make the worship sound beautiful or clean– this was real and messy. It was the sound of someone who felt free to sing his heart out to God. And, unheard of in this genre, it sounded like he didn’t even care if anyone was listening.

The more I let the album repeat, it struck me: Even though frontman Glen Galloway was just singing scripture without adding any words of his own beyond the occasional “Yeah, all right”, I was still somehow getting a sense of his personality. Much more than I did carefully scanning the cryptic lyrics of many other artists that I loved. And beyond that, through his voice the scriptures themselves began to come to light in unexpected ways. I had read the lines “Wherever the spirit of God is, there is freedom” before, but hearing them sung in scratchy, distorted vocals over a strange alternate tuning while the drums were banging away in a joyful, careless spontaneity was something else entirely. The story of the paralytic man on a mat healed by Jesus in a crowded home was familiar to me before, but when Glen ended a song on 1951 by shouting that the paralytic man “walked out IN FULL VIEW OF THEM ALL”, I got goose bumps. Something mysterious was going on.

Over a decade later, Soul-Junk has just released their 11th full-length album, 1960. It’s a frenzy of cello, distortion and cascading drum rolls punctuated by Glen’s ever-exuberant psalm-belting. It’s a perfect introduction to Soul-Junk for new listeners and a nice companion to 1950. I think it might be their most accomplished and complete work to date. Galloway returns to the scripture-as-lyrics approach, this time focusing the entire album on one long Psalm, breaking it’s parts down to examine them through 22 catchy but elusive pop compositions. If Danielson is the church’s experimental artist, and Sufjan its beautiful composer, then Soul-Junk is a combination of both, without forgetting to rock.

I recently had a chance to ask Glen some questions via email. There were a lot of things I wanted to ask him, but I decided to focus on a few areas: Worship music in general, 1950, 1960, and his commercial music company Singing Serpent.

Here’s the interview:

Did you really get kicked off a worship song summit? I need the full story.

Great question - & the answer is no. It’s funny I wrote that song (“3PO Soul”) right before we started going to church where we’ve been plugged in for the last 10 years. Up til that point the concept of me doing worship songs in church was really a stretch. It was probably a preemptive strike mentally. I was thinking, “If most church peoples heard me worship, they’d hit EJECT in a heartbeat.” Turned out not to be the case though…

The pastor called me up to do a song one morning…I just started singing “Good As Dead” from the 1942 EP I’d just recorded with Daniel Smith. I started getting near the ending and I remember thinking, “Well, do I go up and hit those wild raspy high notes and basically sing my guts out, or…” and I just did it. And instead of getting politely ushered off the platform, the pastor asked me to sing more. And more. It was amazing to be in a place where people knew nothing about where I was coming from in terms of musical style, but they totally connected with the passion I had for worshiping God.

I think you are the best worship songwriter of our generation, yet as far as I know, no one sings your songs in church. Is that true? In your mind, are your songs meant for others to use in worship settings?

Well I definitely gave my songwriting completely over to God when I left Trumans Water (my first band) in late 1993. I had a lot to learn about what that all meant, and I don’t claim that every single twist and turn in the road since that point was all God’s idea. But I can say that I’ve followed every time God corrected or re-directed me.

My songs are definitely written out of a place of being hungry and thirsty for reality, honesty, something tangible in terms of interacting with Jesus. I really don’t want to be someone who crafts music, I want to just be moved on and totally inspired by the Holy Spirit. As that happens, anyone who wants that same depth (or deeper) can and should jump in.

A few churches do sing them. For instance last night I started playing a brand new song in our church, and we went for about an hour on it. I was up in Portland in like ’96 or ’97, and there was a church of like 50 people meeting in a house, and they started all singing “Eyes Of The Spirit” off our 1952 album. Daniel Smith is starting a worship label called Great Comfort Records, and there’s a collection of songs coming out that I’ve sung in church over the past 5 years. It’s called Glen Galaxy “Thank You,” and I think it’s due out November.

Is there any other worship music out there that you are into?

It’s so incredibly rare to be able to capture inspired worship music on tape. It doesn’t really matter who wrote the song to me, as long as I can hear and feel the inspiration of God in it and on the person singing it. I’ve heard songs sung in very dry settings and been totally unmoved. Then I’ll hear someone else who’s anointed to worship do that same song, and I’m head over heels lost in worship before I even know what the song is. And there’s nothing better than being blindsided by an on-fire spontaneous worship song.

My friend Todd Fadel does lots of worship up in Portland. His band is called Agents of Future. There’ve been more than a few times I’ve been at his church and really struck by the presence of God when they start worshiping. That’s why I asked him to play Wurlitzer/piano on 1960. When I was in Norway in 2004, we worshiped at a church…and I felt God in a big way there too. I’m sure that’s the reason Emil Nikolaisen (from Serena Maneesh) ended up playing bass on 1960. And I’ve always been able to worship when Daniel Smith sings with Danielson.

I feel like we’ve really hit an amazing place with worship in our church over the past year. Our pastor’s son Joshua Spitsbergen started bringing in a new song just about every church service…and there’s tons of spontaneous worship going on as well. I still do songs, but I’m really happy to flow with and just support what’s been going on. Here’s where they posted highlights from the past few months: click here for link.

Any chance of a Soul-Junk hymnal for guitar?

Well, maybe. I play in a really weird tuning I came up with during the Trumans days (all E’s & B’s). What I should do is sit down with somebody who knows all the music theory stuff, and show them the main chord structures I work off…and have them tell me what to call them - that way people can play the songs in standard tuning. Either that or I’ll convince thousands of people to change their tuning to all E’s & B’s.

Tell me about the guitar sound on 1950. Is that an alternate tuning? It sounds so jangly, trashy, otherworldly and awesome.

I came up with that tuning in Trumans so I could play really jarring harsh triple-octaves. Then when God started telling me to jump off the beautiful but endless tour wagon and begin Soul-Junk…I started exploring all the other chord colors you can get in my tuning besides just octaves. I remember sitting in staircases in Belgium, Netherlands, Austria, etc. with the songs spilling out faster than I could catch them.

I came home and got married to Cathleen, and with what little money I had saved from touring, I bought a nice old student drum set. Before I started recording, I got the guy who owned the studio (Bill Day) to give me the key to the drum room so I could come in and pound away for hours a day. I really didn’t know much about drumming at all, and most of what I was listening to at that point was ‘50s and ‘60s free jazz and caveman rock. So I just made drum noise until I happened to start playing a pattern I could repeat. That’s really how all the beats I used on that album came about. And the trashiness came from about 3 hours a day of beating the tar out of the drums and never ever replacing the heads.

Of course there’s no bass guitar on 1950, so you hear all the bottom end of the drum kit crystal lo-fi clear. And when I started mixing it, Bill pointed out that putting a little reverb on things might help. We’d tracked it all 16-track to 1-inch analog tape with pretty decent mics and pres, so he figured it should have as much studio help as it could stand. But as soon as I heard what tweaking the midrange could do, I just pulled out all the reverb and replaced it with midrange.

Were the long bursts of jamming & sound-making noise on 1950 a conscious decision to clear the worship that followed of any pretention or artifice?

I just had absolutely no contact with mainstream worship music at that time. I had started going to a Vineyard church when I met Cathleen, and their worship songs were a lot freer than anything I’d heard in church before. That really helped. It was all new to me, and I felt like people were more open to free worship than ever before.

On top of that, I’d just fully immersed myself in improvised music with Trumans Water. I was so into bands like Can and the Boredoms and Sonic Youth and the Sun City Girls and Nation Of Ulysses up til that time, and musically I’d really been trying to get to a point where I could improvise so intuitively that it sounded written, or write so out-ly that it sounded improvised. Trumans would do 4 or 5 nights a week of mainly improv. It’s really physically addicting! I couldn’t not improvise at that point. It wasn’t a reaction against anything; it had just gotten to be too much of a thrill to not do it.

Picking up drums and learning completely through improv inspired me to pick up instruments I’d kind of half-learned as a kid, like piano and saxophone. My uncle willed me his baritone sax, and I played it a lot. It could make such a powerful racket. And there was a B3 set up through a Leslie speaker in Bill’s studio, and suddenly my endless years of childhood piano lessons paid off. The Leslie made anything I tried sound good to me.

I’d just hit record on the 33-minute 1-inch tapes, and then go wild on the drums till the tape spun out. Then same thing on the B3/Leslie organ. Then same thing on saxophone twice (I think I did one pass with my dad’s alto sax, then with my uncle’s baritone). Then I did a rough mix and just listened over and over til I really knew where the choice parts were.

15 years passed between the albums 1950 and 1960. How different were the recording sessions/recording process for the two albums?

The most obvious difference would be that 1950 was basically a solo album, while 1960 was a real return to recording live as a band. 1950 was recorded over months in my own hometown. I’d just come in whenever I had money, and record what I could. The basic band tracks for 1960 were all recorded in the space of about 60 hours, including sleep-time. Daniel Smith flew me and Brian Cantrell (drums) in from San Diego, Todd Fadel (keys) from Portland, and Emil Nikolaisen (bass) from Norway. We all met in his studio in New Jersey and learned the songs one by one. I told Brian I wanted to capture his first impressions of these songs on the drums, so I basically showed the song to the band (usually took about 10-15 minutes), and then rolled tape. And we usually went with the first or second take.

The guitar parts on 1960 are actually very close to the style I used on 1950. I had really needed to get good at playing standard tuning over the past 8 years, but at a certain point I rediscovered how much I love my own tuning. I feel like I had really pushed myself hard to get out of my comfort zone musically for years, and all of a sudden it felt good to just be who I am musically.

1960 has cellos all over it. I remember being down in Mexico over the summer of 2007, and we found an ELO greatest hits tape laying around in some drawer. I’m a total sucker for good vocal and string harmonies, and good arrangements. I listen to tons of soundtracks these days. I remember coming back to the states and telling some friends in our studio that I wanted to make a record where the band was more brutal than my early Trumans Water stuff, but with cellos and vocal harmonies all over the top. 1950 was definitely not arranged. Junkally brutal…yes. At that point, singing an overmodulated double-tracked lead vocal with an actual melody to it was my big pop concession.

Last but not least, 1950’s lyrics were my favorite verses (paraphrased) from any part of the Bible I chose. 1960 is very focused – it’s word for word all of Psalm 119, the longest psalm in the book of Psalms. I’ve really had to take years learning how to sing word-for-word in a way that flows. I sang the entire Bible on microcassette at one point, and listened to it over and over – and then started singing the Psalms (1-23) verbatim on our 1959 album. So by the time we did 1960 I really felt warmed up. I flew out to New Jersey on a separate trip to track the vocals and cellos. It was an epic experience singing that much scripture.

Would you consider another Soul-junk tour at this stage in your life? How would 1960 translate live?

Very yes. My kids play in the band now. My 13YO Jude is my drummer, and I couldn’t ask for a better one. Most of what he’s seen growing up of live music is high-intensity spontaneous music in church, so he really doesn’t have a problem overthinking anything. We play together almost every day, so he’s gotten really good really quick. My 6YO Milan sings and plays percussion. My brother Jon (who played bass for us as soon as we added bass in like ’95) is back in the band on bass. And my youngest brother Brian is playing electric piano and guitar.

We started out with this line-up playing only 1960 songs. Now we do songs off pretty much every album. We’ll being playing up outside of Portland at X-Fest this weekend. We’re planning on doing as many all-ages and church shows as we can book.

On 1960, the words “statutes” and “precepts” come up a lot. Is this something you’ve been thinking about lately? What’s the difference between a statute and a precept?

Haa, you’re not the first to point that out! Well, King David wrote all my lyrics for 1960 about 3000 years ago. Psalm 119 is an acrostic. Each of the 22 subchapters starts every line with a specific letter of the Hebrew alphabet. Tradition holds that David taught Solomon to read with this psalm.

I have to admit, I used to breeze through Psalm 119 very quickly. It’s very long, and it’s very repetitive – two things that are very hard on a person who’s attention span is….um, challenged…to say the least. But as I sang it over the course of a week, it started sinking into me the same way books like 1 John have. The repetition became rhythmic, and I found an incredible depth in the simplicity I never imagined was there.

The only way to describe it is how I’ve heard people describe the Grand Canyon. All I’ve seen is pictures, and there’s really no way to communicate that kind of scale without experiencing it firsthand. I came away from a week of singing about statutes and precepts and ordinances and testimonies and laws and commandments and judgments…and I felt like I’d just camped out at the edge of a massive cliff looking out in all directions as far as the eye could see for days. I touched God in a way I never had. This Psalm is about the Word. All those words just mean “THE Word.” The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we gazed on his glory.

Picture David reading this psalm to young Solomon, who in a few short years would be the wisest man in the entire known world. The alphabet of wisdom, its very essentials – is the fear of the Lord. God reveals everything in the Word. When he speaks, you can drive a stake in the ground there and it will never move. When he directs you, you can move in that direction and never stumble, never fall, never be ashamed. When he describes the future, it will be exactly as he says.

Precepts are things you take before...words of origination, preparation. In other words, you take every word at the mouth of God to be absolute truth in all circumstances. Heaven and earth will pass away, but the things he speaks will never pass away. A statute is a directive. It is a word spoken with authority, and it has a specific course to it. Isaiah prophesied about us hearing a voice saying, “This is the way; walk in it.” Psalm 119 is all about that way, and it’s all about that voice.

You’ve said that you’ve received the call to record the entire Bible into song. 1960 is another step towards that direction. Are you saving Numbers for last, or do you plan to get that out of the way early so you won’t be stuck with it in your old age?

To be honest, the only part of the Bible I’ve really had any success actually singing (for anyone besides my own personal listening) is the Psalms. I’ve dabbled in Proverbs, and I think it’s working to some degree. But I’ve got my work cut out for me with the Psalms. I’ve done 1-23, and now 119. We’ve just written and recorded demo versions for 1961, which will be more of the Psalms. I couldn’t be happier singing the songbook God personally gave his people to sing.

After that, we’ll see where the Holy Spirit takes us. In the mean time, I’ve done some of the more narrative books lo-fi blip hop style. All of Genesis and half of Exodus are posted at souljunk.com.

Will Judges be heavy metal?

It would have to be. How else could Ehud the left-handed deliverer be sung?

I would describe your musical output as prolific. Do you feel prolific?

One thing I know is God’s given me something, and I don’t ever feel good sitting on my hands. As long as there is breath in my mouth I know I’ll be worshiping, and I’m really thankful that I get to be closer and closer to the actual recording process.

I’ve learned a lot about constantly moving forward in God – and that is more important to me than how much I get recorded. That’s really a good thing for me. I’ve needed to get patient, to not always have to have motion. 1960 is the perfect example of something that was worth waiting for. There were so many points where I really wanted to hit fast-forward on the whole process, but I’m glad we did it right.

There are things in my life I worked very hard on that I now look back on and don’t benefit from very much, if at all. There was a lot of motion, but nothing really worth keeping. I thank God that my life hasn’t been like that anymore. I hear things I recorded 2 or 4 or 7 years ago, and I feel the presence of God on them as rich as when I first sang them. Same goes for albums like 1950. I am asking God that he teach me to only move in those things that will last.

Have you ever worried you were doing something musical on your own apart from God? Or do you know always know when it comes from Him?

Well I’ve been at both extremes. In the late-90s I figured hey I was in Christ, so anything I thought of or spoke off the top of my head was divinely inspired. I really blurred the lines between spontaneous thought/speech and the actual inspiration of the Holy Spirit.

God started putting me in situations with men who were moving in the power of God, placing their hands on sick people and seeing them instantaneously healed, speaking words of knowledge that revealed what only God could know, etc. All of a sudden it was obvious when I started talking or singing with an open-mic-night improv kind of approach – and there wasn’t any real power behind it. So much of what I had was all bluster – I talked a good game, but when I was in a situation where we absolutely needed a miracle…or else…I just panicked and looked to someone who actually had the faith for the miracle.

I started noticing that older Soul-Junk songs that were pure scripture held up better over time than the ones where I was ad-libbing. There were lyrics I wished I could take back. So then I got really humble, and so intimidated (realizing I was speaking on God’s behalf) it was hard to speak up at all.

I thank God he really got to sort me out. I told him I didn’t want to ever speak or sing outside of him. I told him I didn’t need to be heard, that I didn’t need a name or a band. I told him I’d go talk to people one-on-one if that was better, or sing on beaches or street-corners if he wanted me to.

God is so good to have given me the opportunity to continue with Soul-Junk. I really had walked away from it. Then as soon as he saw I didn’t have to be anything or anybody, he allowed me to enter in to worship musically in a way I never had before. I love that there’s no tug-of-war anymore. God knows I’ll let go of my end at the slightest suggestion from him.

I love the year-based naming conventions of your albums. It’s very satisfying to know what the next album name will be. Has there ever been an album title in your mind that made you want to break that rule?

Nah…I get the most naming enjoyment out of song titles anyway.

What is the location of your ideal dream gig? Rules of time and space do not apply.

I would love playing for a nice big room full of people at the exact place where I was when I started recording 1950 – stepping completely out of everything they’d been told music and culture meant – and diving headfirst into the infinite possibilities of the expressions and unmistakable fruit of the kingdom of God. Somewhere on planet earth.

I’d like it to be NOW.

I imagine that people have strong reactions when you perform live in non-church settings. Or even in church settings. Do you have any harrowing or crazy, or miraculous stories about that?

Yes. Most of our touring was done a good while ago, so I’ll tell one that’s er, fairly recent…as in, this millennium.

When we were doing the out-hop 2 DJs + guitar stuff about 8 or 9 years ago, we got flown over to Norway to headline at the DP Festival, then play several weeks of shows around the Netherlands and Germany. At the festival in Oslo we were supposed to play 2 sets – one at like 2am on Friday night, and the other at 8pm Sunday night. Our Norwegian promoter friends told us the Friday night set was on the experimental stage, so just go crazy.

What we didn’t realize was how many people were coming out to see us for the first time with very big expectations…and we also didn’t realize that our 2 DJ improv concept wasn’t completely ironed out. Sometimes that makes for the best improv. Not in this case. SloRo was dropping some amazing glitched-out beat he just made that afternoon, and 3rd Rail was spinning a nice weird hee haw breaks vinyl thing at a totally different BPM – and I was jetlagged out of my mind trying to figure out which beat to blow saxophone shrapnel or ring modulated guitar over. Or which key to sing fragments of songs over. It was as bad as Sunday night’s set ended up being good. Only the Norwegians hadn’t seen Sunday night’s set yet. And you could just see major disappointment written all over everybody’s face – like, “These guys are headlining the festival??..” I’m sure someone who was there can correct me, and say it was brilliant, but it felt like having my spleen and gall bladder slowly and painfully and publically siphoned out.

We played the full set and then started cleaning up all the ragtag electronics and percussion with our tails between our legs. Meanwhile Sufjan Stevens set up and quietly started doing songs off his as yet unrecorded “7 Swans” EP as the sun started to rise at 3a.m. It was really humble and beautiful. I was equal parts completely thrilled and totally embarrassed.

What is the one instrument you own that’s closest to your heart and why?

I really like my ’67 Danelectro guitar – Christian Wargo (used to play drums for Danielson Famile and Pedro the Lion, now in Crystal Skulls) gave it to me like 11 years ago, and it’s still my favorite guitar. I think at some point I’ll get an old Gibson hollow body electric too, but the Danelectro combines hollow with lipstick-pickup wiry…really perfect for what we’re doing.

Wurlitzers make me happy too. Truth be told, my wurly sounds come out of a Nord Electro these days. And I have a couple stomp boxes I really stick close to – a Generation Next distortion, an Ibanez AD-80 analog delay, and an old Mutron phaser.

What are your favorite bands right now?

Hmmm….I guess stuff like Os Mutantes, ELO, The Boredoms, Hunky Dory-era Bowie, Blanketship, Madlib, Major Stars, glitch, ‘60s/‘70s movie soundtracks, Indonesian gamelan. 20 years ago I was a huge Sonic Youth and Dinosaur Jr. fan, and it’s good to see they both put out really solid albums this year. But I can’t really say I follow specific bands that closely anymore. There is so much music available on-line, so many great old records gathering dust in thrift stores, and such a gigantic handful of high quality internet radio shows - I do way more scanning there than I do reading individual album reviews. I’m really looking for the unintentional masterpieces.

I started posting my mixtapes at the souljunk.com site so people could hear how I like to listen to music – just look for anything titled “Tape Junk.” Bits and pieces, mostly instrumental…huge style mismatches.

Who are your favorite saints of old? And I guess by that I mean historical Christians that you like to read or look to for inspiration?

The Apostle Paul, King David, John (the disciple), and Isaiah. I love going through the entire Bible constantly, and I feel like the more I think about it, the more names I could add. But those are the ones that come to mind first.

I love to study church history, but I don’t put a lot of weight on it. So much philosophy crept in even as early as the 3rd century; and it really started coloring people’s understanding of the church and the kingdom of God. The whole reason I jumped out of touring constantly with Trumans Water in ’93 was because God had me read the book of Luke and Acts right back to back in 2 days of cross-country driving. The question the Holy Spirit asked me very clearly was: “How would you like your life to look like what you’re reading about?” I wanted that so badly I told God I’d give anything to have it. I still feel that way.

If someone’s life looks like you could put them in one of the four Gospels or the book of Acts and they’d fit right in - I’m inspired.

You are one of the few songwriting Christian dudes that I know that also makes a living by being in advertising. How do you justify dabbling in the devil’s work? Do you ever have a hard time connecting the two worlds?

Haa! If I really thought it was the devil’s work there’s no way I’d touch it. I won’t work on any product I have moral/ethical issues with. It’s really ideal for me, because I like working hard; and I like helping people get what they’re hearing in their heads out onto their commercials. Besides that, I don’t have to lay awake at night dreaming up ways to make Soul-Junk a platinum record-selling act, and I don’t have to live on the road to feed my kids. I don’t need any income out of Soul-Junk, so it gets to be exactly what it’s supposed to be spiritually and aesthetically.

I honestly have far less problems with advertising music than I do with most popular music, because in advertising the equation is very simple and upfront: you get to be as creative as the client allows you to be. And there are smart effective ways to push that, to a point. What’s refreshing is that advertising music can’t really pretend to be something it’s not. It’s clearly not my ego or identity I’m going after. I don’t have to build up a following, I just need to get behind someone else’s vision for a specific project. And I really enjoy method-acting in musical terms. It lets me get crazy new musical experiences and perspectives I’d never force myself into otherwise, and then I get to come back to my own music with renewed energy.

And you get to learn great recording tricks by accident. For instance I’ve been in big high pressure string sessions, and while we were sweeping the EQs, we hit a setting that sounded totally amazing. Of course it wouldn’t work in that setting AT ALL…it totally made us laugh just thinking of presenting the track with the strings mixed that way. But I made a nice big mental note for future Soul-Junk string parts.

Is the name Singing Serpent a nod to the evilness of advertising or am I just projecting?

Nah, just projecting.

We came up with the name in ’99. “Singing Serpent” got thrown out while we were thumbing through a picture dictionary looking for the spelling on another name. There was this picture of a snake jumping up in the air to catch a bird, but the bird was out of frame. So the snake looked like it was singing. It was a great visual, and I immediately started thinking of all the possible graphics/logos we could do with it. My wife and brother Jon kind of scratched their heads at the “serpent” part, but I just had the literal dictionary picture in my head…not even close to the Garden of Eden serpent. So we scribbled it down and moved on to others we were more excited about.

We ended up with about 25 possible names, and were surprised to find most of the domains taken already. Surprisingly enough, the domain for singingserpent.com was wide open…



Get 1960 and other Soul-Junk albums at the Sounds Familyre website by clicking here.

Jesus vs. Some Rocks: My Feeble Apologetics

I was watching the Discovery channel the other night and saw a show that touched briefly on the whole debate centered around the age of the earth. Science's suggested older earth vs. the Bible's suggested (relatively) newer earth. And I certainly don't have the answer to that question. I know some folks get hung up with their belief when it comes to the age of the earth, evolution and other stuff like that, but for me, it just doesn't affect my daily life. Personally, I need Jesus because I am a sinner, not because I need some way to understand geology, biology, and the evolution habits of tiny fruit flies. I'm more interested in who made the earth and why.

However, one chain of logic that I hear often from the non-creation group that kind of irks me was featured in the show I was watching, and that's what I want to focus on here. I'm not blaming the show, you hear this explanation all the time. It goes something like this: When scientists discovered they could look at rocks and learn from their erosion and carbon dating processes they also learned that the rocks would have taken years to form their fjord or canyon-like shapes. They were roughly able to tell how long the rocks had been there. So the show claimed, as others do, that the Bible's description of a younger earth was totally proved wrong and the very idea that a creator was involved in making the earth began to be challenged more and more.

But that logic just doesn't work. The rock theory tells you how long it would take the rocks to form that way over time-- ON THEIR OWN. Creationism means there's a Creator involved, right? One that creates things. Makes them happen. Sure, it would take a stream or a river centuries to carve out a new Grand Canyon. But what if someone is causing it to happen? Forcing the river down into the dirt like an sculptor gouges his clay? Creationists assume there's another factor in the equation. God. You can't take that factor out in order to prove that it's not true. It's the very center of the Creationism argument.

I'm not saying therefore Creationism is right, I'm just saying that argument doesn't work for me.

Here's another way I sometimes look at it: God is the author of the world. Tolkien created Middle Earth in the 1930s. But it was created with a vast history of characters that spanned back for eons, ages and ages of folklore, and a well-lived in, ancient land. Why couldn't a creator create something new with a history that already exists? What if he wanted the rocks to look that way, so the best way to do it was to have them worn down for a long time, but since he's God and he can make an aardvark with wings if he wanted to, he could also skip the wearing down process. He could make new rocks that looked however he wanted them to look. A little far-fetched I know, and I don't think that's necessarily the way it happened, but how do I know? We live in a natural place that was supernaturally made, so the regular rules don't apply.

I'm not against science. And I understand why scientists often think they have to remove more intangible elements out of the equation. But one discipline alone is not enough to answer why and how we're here. And science is kind of strange in that it wants to exist on its own without religion or imagination, and gets mad if you like to mix it up with less touch-and-feel-based explorations.

I'm sure there are many levels to this age-old debate that I could never understand. But if you believe in a Creator, you might as well also believe he can create things. If you don't believe in one, then there's plenty of ways to judge the creation on its own and come away empty-handed.

Ironically, the show I was watching was called The Way the Earth was Made.

HOW TO SUCCEED IN ART: A project for someone else.

The other day I spent a nice afternoon in the Museum of Modern Art in New York. Walking around, I noticed something. If you want to be a successful artist, you kind of have to figure out what your “deal” is going to be. I guess that’s kind of obvious, but it was pretty interesting to see that truth coming across in all the different work on display. For instance, in his early days, Mondrian did some really amazing illustrations of chrysanthemums and people and whatnot, but it wasn’t until he focused in on two or three colors and a bunch of lines that folks really started to pay attention. It’s nice to have a hook.


An early Mondrian painting that you don't know about because it's boring.

So, I devised a hook of my own. I’m pretty sure it’s a foolproof way to become a famous artist. The problem with it is that it kind of requires you devote your life to the cause. And I’m pretty sure I’m a little more suited to not doing that. But let me tell you about it just in case you want to take it on as a project. If so, let me know, and we’ll come to some sort of monetary agreement.

Here’s how it would work. First, you would start by having a showing of some paintings in a small art museum somewhere. It doesn’t really matter what gallery, just somewhere big enough to get listed in the local artsy magazines. I think it would be a nice touch to call the show “Bait.” Maybe it’s even abstract renderings of fishhooks or something. It really doesn’t matter. The paintings don’t have to even be very good. The point is that you want someone to write a bad review of your show. And then… you find that critic, and spend the rest of your life painting him, photographing him, making sculptures of him, etc. Not necessarily derogatory paintings. Just him, eating a sandwich. Or sitting on a park bench listening to his iPod. Or surfing. The point is that you would have tons and tons of pieces of him doing tons of things throughout his entire life.

I think, some 50 years later, it would be a must-see exhibit. “Some dude got one bad review and then spent his entire life making art and paintings about the critic who wrote the review. There was even a mobile of the critic making various faces while playing Nintendo.” You would go see it, right?

Anyway, it sounds hard. But kind of awesome. So do it for me, please. I’m fine if you just mention me in the description copy that goes on the wall of the museum. You know, the stuff that only really slow-going museum types will read.

Lost Mindgrapes

Well, obviously I've been using most of my posts for Lost purposes lately, so I've decided to go ahead and start a separate Lost blog. So those of you who don't care about Lost don't have to read my Lost theories amidst the personal stuff, and vice versa. The new site is:

lostmindgrapes.blogspot.com

Having this site will also allow me to post smaller Lost thoughts without feeling self-conscious about posting so many thoughts about Lost on my personal blog. So, there it is. Check it out and vote on my first poll, too.

Daughter Stories

Robin's into secrets right now. So the other night Erin was tucking her in and told Robin, "I've got a secret." And Robin said "What is it?" And Erin whispered "I love you" in her ear. Then Robin said, "I've got a secret, too". And leaned over to Erin's ear and whispered, "You're the best. AND, if you poo poo in the potty I'll buy you a big present."

Diary of the last five days.

Wednesday.

One of my best friends is moving away.
Drive to his house to say goodbye, return sunglasses.
Glasses returned; given a speaker for rock shed, manly side hug.
Truck won't start, extending awkward goodbye.
Jumper cables.
Drive to truck repair place.
Sad, stoic.

Thursday.

Hitch ride to work.
Think about L.L. Bean.
Learn truck repair is expensive.
I don't want to think about L.L. Bean.
Have good idea involving mannequins.
Truck is ready.
Hitch ride to truck, ride truck home.
My daughters like to pretend I'm a horse.
Bedtime stories.
Talk with Erin until we're too tired and should be sleeping.
Erin tells me there's two Africa-related events she wants us to go to this weekend.
I'm not 100% into that plan, but have no good reason.
We both fall asleep, kind of grumpy.

Friday.

Five in the morning.
Erin lying on floor in pain.
Erin pacing the house in pain.
I head to the computer.
Google: appendix.
Google: kidneys.
Learn kidney stones cause you to pace in pain.
Erin paces past the computer in pain.
Google: south austin hospitals
Dark outside, neighbor runs through lawn to come watch the girls.
Six in the morning; emergency room.
Pain.
Pain medication.
Momentary relief.
CAT scan.
Must leave wife here to check on girls at home.
Remember girls have school today, thankfully.
This is my first time driving the girls to school.
Robin tells me I'm doing it wrong.
Drop Lucy off at little playground.
Drop Robin off at big playground.
One of the teachers has a fat green caterpillar, hanging from a stick.
Drive back to hospital, call work on the way.
Back at Hospital.
Cat Scan results.
Kidney stone.
Wife rests.
Wait for doctor.
Overhear horrible emergency room conversation snippets:
"I couldn't get my finger out of my neck."
"Well, sometimes you have to laugh because you can't cry anymore."
Loud beeping.
Wife asleep.
A man curses his foot.
The doctor arrives.
The kidney stone is on the borderline of being too large.
Recommends operation, tomorrow.
Time to get the girls from school, leave wife again.
Pick up Robin.
Pick up Lucy.
"Lucy's not feeling well, she soiled her clothes."
"We're having her sit on the toilet in case it happens again."
Lucy sitting on tiny toilet next to the teacher's assistant.
Sees me, smiles: No diaper, no pants.
Drive girls home.
Feed them lunch; Word Girl is a rerun.
Lucy has another dirty diaper.
Take them to neighbor's house.
Drive to hospital.
Erin moved into her own room.
Sit next to her while she sleeps.
Surgery tomorrow AM.
Drive home.
Put girls to bed.
Fall asleep, dream about missing the surgery several times.

Saturday.

Talk to wife on phone, surgery happening soon.
Take kids next door to neighbors again, they've bought them donuts.
"We're here!" yells Robin.
"Donuts!" yells Lucy.
Forgot My Little Pony DVD.
Go back home, find it, go back next door.
Kiss girls goodbye, neighbor hands me a kolache.
I learn what a kolache is.
Eat kolache as I drive to the hospital.
Wife in surgery.
Wait in room.
Doctor calls my cell, all went well.
Hour passes.
Wife comes back into room, looking tired but happy.
Stay with her while she rests.
She orders cheeseburger, she didn't eat yesterday.
Cheeseburger looks good.
Time to get girls.
Kiss wife, drive home.
Get cheeseburger on the way.
Pick up girls, put them in car.
Promise of going to library to get new books in the process of being fulfilled.
Road to library is out.
Take detour.
At Library finally; getting kids out of car.
Cell phone vibrates in pocket.
Erin to be discharged from hospital soon, come get her.
Try to put kids back in car.
Rebellion ensues.
In library, quickly and frantically picking children's books.
Lucy yelling in library.
Robin punching keyboard in library.
Accidentally check out one about Henry David Thoreau.
$10.50 in library fines.
How many minutes have passed?
Who writes a children's book about Thoreau?
Erin calls, waiting outside hospital.
Packing kids in car quickly; dropping library books.
Forgot to fasten Robin into car seat: "Daddy, I can move!"
Lucy: "I don't wanna go to the hospital"
Fasten Robin into car seat.
Crank car again, driving fast.
Forgot about construction detour.
Take detour.
Erin waiting outside hospital.
PIck her up, she's doing much better but uncomfortable.
Go home, take a nap.
Sleep like a dead man.
Wake up groggy.
Wife doing great, ready to attend first of the weekend's two Africa-related events.
Argue about wife's recent surgery vs. going to event.
Wife wins, promises to stay seated and not move around.
Africa event 1: Meet friends in Ethiopian adoption group at restaurant with playground.
Erin forgot to take off hospital bracelets. Surprised looks.
Have great time on playground.
Kisses from Robin and Lucy in return for spinning them in the air.
Drive home.
Sleep hard.

Sunday.

Lucy yells "Yoo Hoo" from crib.
Lucy wants pancakes.
Robin wants waffles. And chewing gum.
Chewing gum denied.
Erin in bed, eats pancakes too.
Erin gets up, gives Robin chewing gum.
Robin shows me the chewing gum.
Take girls to church so Erin can rest more.
Lucy yells "IT'S ME!" when she sees her Sunday school teacher.
Robin is shy.
Target on the way home for water and orange juice.
Home: Erin in pain again.
Lots of pain.
Call doctor, put on hold.
Lucy breaks her spoon.
Robin needs more milk.
Erin in pain.
Operator says doctor will call me back soon.
Robin wants more ketchup.
Lucy wants more ketchup.
Wipe ketchup off hands, put girls to bed.
Doctor calls back, tells us what to do for Erin.
Erin does it, feels better instantly.
Clean up before babysitter comes over, second Africa event occurs in 2 hours.
Erin dresses for church, a local church is hosting an choir made up of African orphans.
Babysitter arrives.
Erin has pain again, can't go, asks me to go alone.
I don't want to go.
She says please, she thinks it will be good for me.
Her pain is not bad, she just needs to rest.
Drive to nearby church alone.
See neighbor who cared for my girls.
African children run onto the stage.
I don't see any adults with them.
Children dance and sing.
Boy from Uganda talks about watching his parents die from AIDS.
He sings a beautiful song, smiling.
Girl from Nepal is sweet.
15 million orphans in Africa.
40 million by 2010.
Only 15% of Christians in America surveyed think we should do something about it.
The children sing and dance loudly, louder than the room full of white people.
I decide I am one of the 15 percenters.
White people clap like white people.
Children finish, run through the pews hugging elderly unsuspecting Methodists.
America is rich but poor.
I forgot to bring a checkbook.
CD table takes visa, I buy Erin a CD and a DVD, and grab a sponsorship form.
Erin was right, again. It was good for me.
Drive home.
Read books to girls.
Put girls to bed very late, 9pm.
Robin still awake, 9:45 pm.
Read her a book in the dark.
She gives me a kiss.
Type overlong blog entry in difficult to read, short sentences.
Go to bed.

Now I'm going to talk to a chicken

Wes Whitener's Reservations

Hello and thanks for taking the time to meet with me today.

The TV show proposal I'd like for you to consider producing is entitled: Wes Whitener's Reservations. It would be a travel show, but the twist is this: The guy featured on the show is not very world wise and would actually prefer not to travel. In fact, he kind of hates it. He doesn't like nice wine, he's a bit shy and awkward when meeting new people, and he would prefer to go see a movie than to engage in outdoor adventures of any kind.

The excitement and humor would come in seeing this skeptical traveler attempt to eat various exotic dishes, repel off the side of mountains, hanglide, run into celebrities at nice hotels, etc, all while mildly complaining, reacting awkwardly, and not really knowing which fork to hold or how to swim, etc. He would need some sidekicks along who are actually good at outdoor sports and enjoy that kind of thing to egg him on and convince him to actually cliff dive, or whatever. Kind of the Ricky Gervais podcast model where two dudes mock an awkward guy as they go.

I think it will be a hit. Thanks for your consideration.

Gold: Worth it?

So, I had a long discussion last night with friends about the whole economy thing. We started talking about how the price of gold vs. the dollar has gone up. Someone made the point that paper money is meaningless without gold to back it up.

This got me to thinking: Does gold REALLY have any intrinsic value over paper? I know it's a precious mineral. But I would suggest that it's only precious because we attribute value to it, just like we do with paper money. The mineral itself, while shiny, is basically useless unless you like gold jewelry or teeth. Sure, there's not a lot of gold out there, making it more valuable to people who already like gold, but shear scarceness does not making something valuable. There's not a lot of copies of The Outfield's "Play Deep" album out there anymore, but that doesn't mean it's instantly worth anything at all to human beings who come in contact with it.

The way I see it, if you're stranded in the desert with no food or water for days and find a piece of gold, I don't think you're going to be that thrilled. You might say to yourself, "I wish this was a gold cup of water or a golden plate of pancakes", but otherwise it's not much use to you. In fact, it's so heavy it might actually be a detriment, since you have a lot of trekking across the desert to do.

I guess all I'm saying is, in and of itself, gold isn't all that great. If everything were to collapse economically and we entered some Mad Max state of being (as CNN would seem to prefer), I really don't think Ft. Knox is going to be the first place that gets broken into. It would be pretty safe. Maybe keep an eye on your Targets or your Home Depots. But the gold will probably be fine. In fact, the following things would be of more value than gold in a post-apocalyptic, back-to-the-basics world; solely because they are useful. Here, ladies and gentlemen, are your future (more reliable) forms of currency:

Duct tape
Rubber Bands
Bungee Cords
Solar Powered Cars
Solar Powered Scooters
Solar Powered Calculators
Swords
Books from the humor section (especially if it's a bleak future)
Tents
Hand Crank LL Bean Flashlights
Leathermen tools and/or forks
M&Ms
Cookies
Shields
Dustpans (could also double as shield)
Plywood
Sunscreen
Can openers
Roman Candles

I think this is a pretty complete list. All items represented here are actually more valuable than gold, if we're really talking long term. I suggest we switch to one of those now, maybe Duct Tape, just to ensure the ACTUAL value of the dollar. But I'm no economist.

America, We're Dumb Enough!

So, this whole economic crisis thing... I have a theory. I think, collectively, we're dumb enough to make it through. Here's a quote from CNN concerning the proposed bailout:

"The Chicago PMI, a key manufacturing read, fell to 56.7 in September from 57.9 in the prior month. However, the decline was smaller than economists were expecting. Any reading over 50 suggests growth."

What? I don't understand any of that. What happened? How does our economy even work? Should I buy that extra piece of cinnamon swirl cake with my frappacino? Do I refrain from purchasing the 227: Complete Series Box Set on DVD with my credit card? I don't know. I wager the majority of the American populace doesn't know either. And that's exactly my point. We're dumb enough to plow ahead blindly. We'll keep buying cookies, boats and orange Crocs and America will prosper.

Or will we? See, I really don't know. Maybe we should all cut back on cookies this month. Maybe that's the answer. Let's all consume three less cookies and maybe this thing will sort itself out. See, even in my proposed solutions, I'm proving my point. We're totally dumb enough.

I guess, in a way, that was also the point behind the movie Forrest Gump. Forrest represented America, and how simple and innocently we as a nation blustered our way through time to greatness, unaware. (The ironic part about that is, of course, most people who loved that movie didn't care about that underlying subtext, they just like to hear Tom Hanks talk funny about Shrimp. Again, proving my point.)

I'm not trying to be cynical or ironic here. I think I'm just trying to say we shouldn't panic, we should just keep trucking on. With caution, sure, but let's don't get too smart about the situation and start day trading our 401 k futures or whatever.

And for the record, I think the bailout just sounds like a bad idea. It screams "Quick Solution Without Regard to Consequence" to me. Like sugar-free Donuts. It sounds good, but there's no way it can be made up of anything good for you, and you'll probably pay for it later.

Daughter Songs

Both of my girls have written a few songs now, at the young ages of 3 and 2. Although I may be biased, I think they're all pretty good (though short). The tunes are nice, too, but since you can't hear that on a blog, I'll just give you the lyrics.

Robin's first song illustrates her Chinese heritage. It's short and sweet. The words are:

When I was a kid...
Ni Hao.

(Ni Hao is hello in Chinese).

Nice tune, poignant lyrics with a hint of humor and a touch of pathos. Excellent song.

Lucy's first song works to shed some light on her American heritage:

New Shoes from Target
New Shoes from Target
New Shoes from Target
etc.

While it can go on a little long, there's a lot of joy in this song.

Robin also crafted another tune while brushing her teeth and looking in the mirror. This one is to be crooned really soulfully, like a rock ballad or gospel number:

Girl on a step stool...

It helps on the last one to actually be standing on a step stool.

Best. Movie Ending. Ever?

I like how unsure the smile is on the girlfriend's face.

Also, this is oddly similar to the ending of Michael Clayton.

Face Recognition, Round 2.

Ok, so i've been determined to get a better celebrity face match than yesterday's Richard Stallman (see last post). Well, I've been failing. Here's my results so far. Not promising.



Mitch gets Heath Ledger, I get... some guy with a handlebar moustache. Nice.



Ok, so Robin gets some lovely Asian lady, then the program basically flips Lucy and I the bird. I challenge anyone to classify the three people I've been compared with so far as celebrities. And... Marilyn Manson? I guess it's the lack of eyebrows and the baby face? I dunno.

So, thinking maybe it was the beard throwing me off, I pulled an old photo of Kool & The Gang that someone "kindly" posted on facebook.



Result? 3 lovely actresses and NO FACE FOUND. C'mon!

Here is my last attempt, one in which I have collected for you the top ranked faces that mine looks like (according to this site) just so you can understand what a face like this is made up of, "celebrity" style.

Um...

So, there's this site that will scan a photo of your face and tell you what celebrity faces yours resembles. We were all giving it a shot together here at work today. As the program scans your face, you have to wait patiently for the results.

Scott got labeled "Kevin Costner" (although he's clearly Bill Paxton)

My coworker Mitch got labeled "Jeff Gordon" (although he's clearly The Count).

Then it was my turn.

The first picture we put in the program claimed it could not find a face. Hmm.

We tried a different photo, let it scan in and waited patiently before it revealed...



Um. Who is this guy? Apparently the computer had to scrape the bottom of the celebrity barrel to find a match for me and the best it could do was Richard Stallman, the infamous computer hacker/weird looking freak.

I hope that you fare better when you try it. Oddly, if you click at the bottom it goes through the other celebrities that resemble you and the next one over was Luke Perry. Hmm.

Anyway, give it a shot and let me know in the comments if you could possibly lose worse at this game than I did.

By the way, this reminds me of I site that I once wanted to build. The idea was that it would show you what your baby would look like if you scanned in photos of two people. The trick was going to be that no matter what photos you put in, the picture would come out as a bad pencil drawing of a baby with tattooed biker arms, a beard, and an eyepatch.

I should still build that site.

Back off, Levi's.

Sometimes I get really sad that I work in advertising. Especially when I see stuff as seedy as the new Levi's ads. Have you seen these? I'm referring to the "Live Unbuttoned" campaign, a campaign whose slogan is even inappropriately bold enough to suggest that you live a life with your privates exposed to the world.

First off, there's an ad that opens with a super young couple (15? 16? 18 maybe) who we see in extreme close up. Mostly, we see their prepubescent crotches as they slowly unbutton their jeans to accommodate the tag line. Then the girl asks "Is this your first time?" and they both look nervous. The conversation continues with loaded dialog like that, insinuating the obvious. Just when you think that these kids are about to do the premarital, the camera pulls back to reveal...Hey! Just kidding, folks! These preteens are only stripping down to their underwear to jump off a dangerous pier together into the cold water below.

So, I assume our reaction at that point is supposed to be: whew! I thought they were trying to show my kids how cool it is to lose their virginity, but it was actually an elaborate set up to show my kids how cool it is to go swimming with their boyfriends almost naked! I guess then we're to chuckle mildly with relief. Then just to keep us parents on edge, they end the ad with an underwater crotch shot of both of the kids' half naked bottom halves as a reminder to us that they're probably going to do it later, off screen.

I know ever since the mini skirt replaced the poodle skirt that older generations have complained about worrisome trends in teen fashion, but I have to say if there is a hidden agenda going on in teen fashion, it's gotten way less hidden lately. Or maybe I'm an old man. But I don't know if I want to live in a era where people are OK that a jeans commercial for teens can have such a jaded, sexually experienced point of view.

I should stop here, at just Slightly Old-Fashioned Curmudgeon level, but I have to continue. Because there's another spot just as bad.

In this one, a guy wakes up in bed with a girl, and then slides out of bed without waking her. He grabs his guitar (read: he's cool, so it's okay), puts his jeans on and mentally and shirtless-ly debates whether he should sneak out or not. An old blues guy in the room narrates the guy's thoughts, obviously. "What, are you going to tell her you love her? Don't be crazy, just keep walkin'" he says, full of wisdom and that kind of crap, so the kid takes his advice and packs his stuff up, looking thoughtfully over his shoulder as he leaves the girl to struggle alone with sexual guilt after this meaningless one night stand.

I'm pretty sure that's how it was all worded in the script.

While the first spot seems to be encouraging casual sex for preteen virgins, this one seems to focus it's energy on encouraging guys that commitment is lame and that it's better to have one night stands than seek a monogamous relationship. Especially if you like the blues, which I would suggest is warning sign in general for anyone you meet in life, ladies, so take note.

I don't think this is all the former youth minister in me talking, but who knows. If you see these inappropriate commercials on TV let me know what you think. I'm pretty sure I even saw the first one on N!, which is a channel meant for preteens. I don't blame Moose A. Moose, though, he seems like an alright guy to me, and he's off work once Noggin shifts to N! and the Degrassi High School of Deviants comes on, anyway.

Where have I been?

Well, I haven't posted in a while. So here's some things that happened in the last 4 or 5 months.

Lucy looked at a fish that swam by in an aquarium, and said "I like you."

Robin informed us via racial profiling that "Chinese people don't like their windows down" and "Chinese people don't like to close their eyes", among other things. I don't want to make a blanket statement, but it would appear that Chinese people don't like to do whatever Robin doesn't want to do.

The Sheeps recorded 4 new songs, which are still mixing.

I went to the Bahamas on a TV shoot, and got to go snorkeling and para sailing.

Anyway, I'm not gone from the Blogosphere forever. More to come.

Dear Lost Producers...

I haven't forgotten about the following. Have you?

The question mark burned into the ground that Locke saw. Why would any Dharma person do that?



The pipes from that hatch that sent log reports nowhere. Was the Hatch stuff all a ruse?

The numbers. Why were they being broadcast from the island when Rousseau's ship crashed?

The quarantine. Ain't nobody sick.

The Blast door map. Why would a guy who worked for Dharma be trying to figure out where all the Dharma stations are located?

The Other's Pillar of Smoke. What was that? They seem pretty civilized now. Why burn things?

The Supply Drops. How can these happen but seasoned Helicopter pilots from the frieghter can't even fly near the island without crashing?

Disappering dead bodies. Jack's dad. Eko's brother. Kevin Inman.

Most of these questions come from season 2. Which I haven't forgotten. Have you?

Also, I would comment on last night's episode but my wife hasn't seen it yet. But I will say: DANG.

Sports Fans.

This is funny.

On that same subject: An open letter to Disney

Dear Disney,

Why do you hate parents? We are your bread and butter. We are the ones who use our money to buy your DVDs and support your amusement parks. And yet, here is a brief run down of the situation as I see it:

Bambi: Parent Killed.
Snow White: One parent, evil. Tries to cut out stepdaughter's heart.
Cinderella: Parents dead.
Dumbo: One parent. Placed in solitary confinement for "anger issues."
Peter Pan: No parents.
Sleeping Beauty: Too boring to watch.
Jungle Books: Parents leave child in Jungle.
Aristocats: One parent.
The Rescuers: No parents.
Little Mermaid: One parent. Calypso numbers.
Dinosaur: Parents hit by comet.
Aladdin: No parents.
Tarzan: See Jungle Book.
Finding Nemo: Parent dies.
Toy Story: One parent.
Lion King: Parent dies.

I mean, c'mon guys! You can't expect us parents to keep buying these DVDs if every time we put one in the player one of our own comes to a grisly end. It's just basic marketing. Can we get one complete set of parents that can stay alive for 85 minutes? At the very least.

Also, stop unreleasing movies. That doesn't make sense. Then stop rereleasing them and charging 30 bucks for them. I know how much a blank DVD costs. Also, nobody's watching that lame second disc of sketches on a napkin that were for the "bossa nova" version of "Kiss the Girl", so quit charging 15 extra bucks for that crap.

Finding Nemo: Horror Movie?

Let's pretend you're a producer of children's films and I walk into your office with an idea for a great new kids movie. I'd say, "Hey, I've got a great idea for a kid's movie. Here's how it would play out." And then I'd launch into my pitch.

First, we open on a happy young couple, who've just bought a new house and are celebrating the pending arrival of their babies. A giant fanged, horrifying monster instantly appears and eats the mom and the children. One baby survives, but he's got a "gimpy" arm.

After this trauma, the Dad becomes a nervous wreck, moves to a secluded new home and raises his injured child alone in fear and isolation.

The kid rebels from this lifestyle for 2 seconds, trying to show his Dad that the world is not a horrifying deadly place. As he does so, he is instantly grabbed by giant faceless men with loud breathing apparatus, placed into a bag, and is whisked away.

The mortified Dad then tries to follow the abductors, but the only person who offers to help him is a woman who has a mental illness akin to short term memory loss.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" You'd say, "This sounds like a terrifying movie"

Hold on, I'd say. At that point a giant monster with three rows of teeth appears and is driven insane with bloodlust when the mentally ill woman accidentally cuts herself. The monster chases them through an old abandoned submerged submarine surrounded by mines, which explode.

Meanwhile, the captured kid is put into a cell with other insane people, like a woman who talks to herself in the mirror.

By this point you would stop me and tell me to get out of your office, or point me to the horror movie producer down the hall.

Seriously, I think this movie actually shows that the Dad fish was right, the ocean is a terrifying place and you may get eaten or horribly mangled just by swimming out too far. Besides the pot smoking turtles, pretty much everyone else they came across on their trek were terrifying beasts intent on destroying or devouring them.

See horror movie-like photo evidence below.