Yippie Yi Ki Yay Kaboom!
These days, I'm pretty conflicted about celebrating the Fourth of July.
On the one hand, I like fireworks. I mean, I really, really like fireworks. They are one of the favorite things in the whole world.
On the other hand, I don't care all that much for a lot of the other stuff that goes with Fourth of July. For example, I don't consider myself patriotic; I consider myself rational. So all the rah, rah for flag and country never did all that much for me.
It's done even less ever since the United States ceased to be a free country under the present regime in Washington. From the day the Bush regime invaded Iraq, I've ceased to consider myself a citizen of the United States or any other country, for that matter. Last time I checked, they all had governments, too. So when I go to the local fireworks display and have to hear that Toby Keith song about Kicking the Ass of Amerikaz Enemeez played over loudspeakers, it kind of sticks in my craw.
But Fourth of July is a national holiday and, therefore, a day off from work, and there is something to be said for that. Especially if your lawn needs to be mowed, and ours really, really did. So the idea was to sleep in a bit, go get some brunch, then do some work around the house the rest of the day, maybe grill something up on the big new grill we bought for the wedding open house, then light out at the last minute to catch the fireworks.
The whole plan turned out to be problematic, though. To start with, the fireworks had been moved. For as long as anyone can remember, the Champaign Freedom Festival had been held on the big grassy fields near Memorial Stadium on the university campus, which is less than a mile from our house. Weather permitting, we could even grab a couple of folding chairs and walk over there.
Unfortunately, the university has begun a major two-year project renovating the stadium. At the end of the project, the stadium will have a lot of new fancy touches, like skyboxes for the high-rollers. (They'd also better have an Illini football team that can win the occasional game or two, either that or hookers offering free blow jobs in those skyboxes, or they aren't going to be able to sell any of those seats they're paying millions to build. While they're at it, they might try to do something about the livestock smell blowing in from South Farms.)
As a result, the large open area where people gathered to see the fireworks display now is a staging area for heavy construction equipment and building materials.
So the city moved the fireworks display to Dodds Park outside of Parkland Community College up in the far northwest corner of Champaign. That's a good five miles from home, and there are limited entrances and exits to that campus, so traffic was guaranteed to be a big problem.
Secondly, the weather was a big if. The forecast called for scattered thunderstorms throughout the area. "Scattered thunderstorms" in east central Illinois means that not a single drop of rain will fall on our garden plot, but if we try to go anywhere, we'll get drenched and maybe electrocuted. I don't care to sit in a downpour waiting for fireworks that might get canceled, and Penny isn't too keen on the idea, either.
Around the middle of the afternoon, I went online to accuweather.com and checked out the doppler radar map. The eastern two-thirds of the United States looked like it had teenage-grade acne. Indeed, big black clouds were rolling by to the north and south of us, rumbling with thunder and sending Murphy, who is terrified of thunderstorms, hiding under the couch. (Our other dog, Buddy, isn't bothered by thunderstorms in the least, so he kept on sleeping on top of the couch, letting out an occasional doggy snore.) Naturally, not a drop of rain was falling on our garden.
So I suggested to Penny that we take in a movie, then bring back some carryout food for dinner. We checked the listings in the newspaper, and since the patriotic thing to do on the Fourth of July is to watch something explode, we decided to go see Live Free or Die Hard, the fourth and latest in the series of action flicks starring Bruce Willis.
The plot for Die Hard IV is one of those "ripped from the headline" things. The credits stated that it was based on one of those "what if" magazine articles, apparently about how terrorists might attack the United States via computer. In the movie, a former government analyst tries to alert his superiors about how vulnerable the country is to a computer attack. As a result, his embarrassed superiors fire him and slander his good name. In retaliation, the ex-analyst puts together his own terrorist team and launch a computer attack that shuts down the transportation infrastructure, communications, and utilities. (The movie is a little sketchy on how the guy got the money for all that advanced computer equipment, not to mention semi trucks, helicopters, etc.) Just as the country is about to be plunged into chaos, in comes NYPD cop John McClane...
The modern Amerikan action movie generally contains any number of "Nawww!" moments. A Nawww! moment is when the action hero does something that is so obviously impossible that it goes beyond your ability to suspend disbelief, and you go "Nawww!" The first Die Hard movie, which I watched earlier in the week on DVD, has relatively few of these, but in fine Hollywood tradition, as the series has continued, the movies become more and more over the top. Live Free or Die Hard has about one Nawww! moment every 90 seconds.
My favorite Nawww! moment comes toward the end of the film when McClane leaps from a largely destroyed semi-truck going over the edge of an elevated expressway, lands on the wing of a spinning, out-of-control U.S. Air Force fighter jet that is about to crash, leaps from the wing of the jet onto a collapsing section of freeway pavement (which is collapsing because the jet shot a missile at it while trying to get McClane), slides down the pavement, and rolls off onto the ground just as the freeway section crashes into the earth. Then, he gets up and walks away, basically unscratched. That's about four or five Nawww! moments rolled into one.
It's easy for someone of my tastes and politics to despise these action movies, but I don't really. What I like about them is that most of them, when you look past the right-wing surface politics usually espoused by the hero, are actually profoundly anti-authoritarian and anti-government movies. In virtually every case, the criminals or the street gang or the terrorists or whatever bad guy have you are threatening all civilization as we know it, and the official government authorities are always absolutely helpless to stop the bad guys. In some cases, the government is shown to be so incompetent that it makes everything even worse. Along comes the Action Hero, who is always some lone maverick -- maybe a government employee like a cop or a CIA operative or maybe not, like some private eye or an out-and-out vigilante. This character is always a radically individualistic loner at odds with the powers-that-be. They hate him but have no other choice but to accept his help, or sometimes they try to kill him, too. In the end, it is the individual loner hero who always saves the day, leaving the authorities to pick up the pieces of the entire city he's wrecked over the course of his battle with the bad guys.
Of course, that doesn't mean every action movie is worth watching from a libertarian standpoint. I particularly dislike stuff like the TV show 24 where the hero is constantly saving the day by torturing people. I don't worry so much about the influence of such shows on children as I do its influence on adults. Particularly adults who work for the government.
Nevertheless, I hear that the next Die Hard movie is already in pre-production, and I can't wait for Die Hard With a Stiffy.
After the movie, Penny and I went out to Flattop Grill, a sort of Mongolian barbecue place, to get some food for carryout, and then she had an idea. It was just dark enough for the Champaign fireworks to be getting underway, so why not drive out west toward the edge of town to see if we could find some vantage point where we could see the display from the comfort of our car.
So we headed wet out Springfield Avenue, and when we got out to the shopping areas near the west end of town, near where Penny used to live before we bought our house, we found a spot in a parking lot between Za's Italian Fast Foods and the Big Lots retail outlet that gave us a clear view of the fireworks. All that without any patriotic kuntry mewzik over loudspeakers. And maybe best of all, the Goddess threw in Her own natural fireworks with a large thunderhead rolling past well to the north of town, flashes of sheet lightning brightening the sky momentarily as a backdrop to the more conventional city firework display.
Bruce Willis and Astarte. That's what a Fourth of July ought to be.
On the one hand, I like fireworks. I mean, I really, really like fireworks. They are one of the favorite things in the whole world.
On the other hand, I don't care all that much for a lot of the other stuff that goes with Fourth of July. For example, I don't consider myself patriotic; I consider myself rational. So all the rah, rah for flag and country never did all that much for me.
It's done even less ever since the United States ceased to be a free country under the present regime in Washington. From the day the Bush regime invaded Iraq, I've ceased to consider myself a citizen of the United States or any other country, for that matter. Last time I checked, they all had governments, too. So when I go to the local fireworks display and have to hear that Toby Keith song about Kicking the Ass of Amerikaz Enemeez played over loudspeakers, it kind of sticks in my craw.
But Fourth of July is a national holiday and, therefore, a day off from work, and there is something to be said for that. Especially if your lawn needs to be mowed, and ours really, really did. So the idea was to sleep in a bit, go get some brunch, then do some work around the house the rest of the day, maybe grill something up on the big new grill we bought for the wedding open house, then light out at the last minute to catch the fireworks.
The whole plan turned out to be problematic, though. To start with, the fireworks had been moved. For as long as anyone can remember, the Champaign Freedom Festival had been held on the big grassy fields near Memorial Stadium on the university campus, which is less than a mile from our house. Weather permitting, we could even grab a couple of folding chairs and walk over there.
Unfortunately, the university has begun a major two-year project renovating the stadium. At the end of the project, the stadium will have a lot of new fancy touches, like skyboxes for the high-rollers. (They'd also better have an Illini football team that can win the occasional game or two, either that or hookers offering free blow jobs in those skyboxes, or they aren't going to be able to sell any of those seats they're paying millions to build. While they're at it, they might try to do something about the livestock smell blowing in from South Farms.)
As a result, the large open area where people gathered to see the fireworks display now is a staging area for heavy construction equipment and building materials.
So the city moved the fireworks display to Dodds Park outside of Parkland Community College up in the far northwest corner of Champaign. That's a good five miles from home, and there are limited entrances and exits to that campus, so traffic was guaranteed to be a big problem.
Secondly, the weather was a big if. The forecast called for scattered thunderstorms throughout the area. "Scattered thunderstorms" in east central Illinois means that not a single drop of rain will fall on our garden plot, but if we try to go anywhere, we'll get drenched and maybe electrocuted. I don't care to sit in a downpour waiting for fireworks that might get canceled, and Penny isn't too keen on the idea, either.
Around the middle of the afternoon, I went online to accuweather.com and checked out the doppler radar map. The eastern two-thirds of the United States looked like it had teenage-grade acne. Indeed, big black clouds were rolling by to the north and south of us, rumbling with thunder and sending Murphy, who is terrified of thunderstorms, hiding under the couch. (Our other dog, Buddy, isn't bothered by thunderstorms in the least, so he kept on sleeping on top of the couch, letting out an occasional doggy snore.) Naturally, not a drop of rain was falling on our garden.
So I suggested to Penny that we take in a movie, then bring back some carryout food for dinner. We checked the listings in the newspaper, and since the patriotic thing to do on the Fourth of July is to watch something explode, we decided to go see Live Free or Die Hard, the fourth and latest in the series of action flicks starring Bruce Willis.
The plot for Die Hard IV is one of those "ripped from the headline" things. The credits stated that it was based on one of those "what if" magazine articles, apparently about how terrorists might attack the United States via computer. In the movie, a former government analyst tries to alert his superiors about how vulnerable the country is to a computer attack. As a result, his embarrassed superiors fire him and slander his good name. In retaliation, the ex-analyst puts together his own terrorist team and launch a computer attack that shuts down the transportation infrastructure, communications, and utilities. (The movie is a little sketchy on how the guy got the money for all that advanced computer equipment, not to mention semi trucks, helicopters, etc.) Just as the country is about to be plunged into chaos, in comes NYPD cop John McClane...
The modern Amerikan action movie generally contains any number of "Nawww!" moments. A Nawww! moment is when the action hero does something that is so obviously impossible that it goes beyond your ability to suspend disbelief, and you go "Nawww!" The first Die Hard movie, which I watched earlier in the week on DVD, has relatively few of these, but in fine Hollywood tradition, as the series has continued, the movies become more and more over the top. Live Free or Die Hard has about one Nawww! moment every 90 seconds.
My favorite Nawww! moment comes toward the end of the film when McClane leaps from a largely destroyed semi-truck going over the edge of an elevated expressway, lands on the wing of a spinning, out-of-control U.S. Air Force fighter jet that is about to crash, leaps from the wing of the jet onto a collapsing section of freeway pavement (which is collapsing because the jet shot a missile at it while trying to get McClane), slides down the pavement, and rolls off onto the ground just as the freeway section crashes into the earth. Then, he gets up and walks away, basically unscratched. That's about four or five Nawww! moments rolled into one.
It's easy for someone of my tastes and politics to despise these action movies, but I don't really. What I like about them is that most of them, when you look past the right-wing surface politics usually espoused by the hero, are actually profoundly anti-authoritarian and anti-government movies. In virtually every case, the criminals or the street gang or the terrorists or whatever bad guy have you are threatening all civilization as we know it, and the official government authorities are always absolutely helpless to stop the bad guys. In some cases, the government is shown to be so incompetent that it makes everything even worse. Along comes the Action Hero, who is always some lone maverick -- maybe a government employee like a cop or a CIA operative or maybe not, like some private eye or an out-and-out vigilante. This character is always a radically individualistic loner at odds with the powers-that-be. They hate him but have no other choice but to accept his help, or sometimes they try to kill him, too. In the end, it is the individual loner hero who always saves the day, leaving the authorities to pick up the pieces of the entire city he's wrecked over the course of his battle with the bad guys.
Of course, that doesn't mean every action movie is worth watching from a libertarian standpoint. I particularly dislike stuff like the TV show 24 where the hero is constantly saving the day by torturing people. I don't worry so much about the influence of such shows on children as I do its influence on adults. Particularly adults who work for the government.
Nevertheless, I hear that the next Die Hard movie is already in pre-production, and I can't wait for Die Hard With a Stiffy.
After the movie, Penny and I went out to Flattop Grill, a sort of Mongolian barbecue place, to get some food for carryout, and then she had an idea. It was just dark enough for the Champaign fireworks to be getting underway, so why not drive out west toward the edge of town to see if we could find some vantage point where we could see the display from the comfort of our car.
So we headed wet out Springfield Avenue, and when we got out to the shopping areas near the west end of town, near where Penny used to live before we bought our house, we found a spot in a parking lot between Za's Italian Fast Foods and the Big Lots retail outlet that gave us a clear view of the fireworks. All that without any patriotic kuntry mewzik over loudspeakers. And maybe best of all, the Goddess threw in Her own natural fireworks with a large thunderhead rolling past well to the north of town, flashes of sheet lightning brightening the sky momentarily as a backdrop to the more conventional city firework display.
Bruce Willis and Astarte. That's what a Fourth of July ought to be.
posted by Da Zedman at 4:37 PM
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