DON KNOTTS
Guess I'll be staging my own personal Mayberry Mini-Marathon this afternoon. (TV-Land has a marathon scheduled for Tuesday February 28th).
"Christians should NEVER listen to secular music." Oh, if I had a dollar for every time I've heard that argument, I'd be wealthy enough to split my time between a beachhouse in Waikiki, a condo in Panama City, and a cottage on the coast of New England. 
On the rare occasion that I get the opportunity to listen to secular "ear candy," there are some choice artists that wind up in the CD changer or on the Ipod. A lot of the music that earns playing time are boxed sets. Artist anthologies are my first choice; greatest hits compilations are a close second.
In my next post, I'll expound on my musical preferences....(that should be a real "doozy"). :-)
With an estimated budget of $150 million, "The Chronicles of Narnia-The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe" is opening in theaters tomorrow--Disney's film adaptation of the C.S. Lewis' classic literary work. (As a point of reference, $30 million was spent on the production of Mel Gibson's "The Passion." So, what will 5 times the production budget yield in terms of special effects?)
Brother Steve Camp has posted an excellent article on his blog which gives us a pretty good insight into the faith of C.S. Lewis, as well as an article giving great recommendations on the proper expectations evangelicals should hold as they venture into the theater this weekend to view the movie. Hint: evangelicals should expect the same thing other moviegoers do......an evening of great entertainment. As an artist, in addition to entertainment value, I'm also interested in the composition and special effects of the film--the overall asthetics of what critics are claiming is destined to be the blockbuster of this Christmas season.
Without my viewing the film, to follow is the information I've been able to put together in regards to some of the special-effects aspects of the piece. (By the way, tomorrow I hope to post on the unique marketing aspect of the film).
Very impressive visually-from what I've seen in the movie trailers-is Aslan, the character of the lion, which is 100% computer-generated, and took 2 years to complete. The battle scene contains 5,000 computer-generated characters within the Narnian army alone, and 15,000 CG characters within the witch's army.The computer program "Massive" was employed to create the battle, a program created by Stephen Regelous. (The "Massive" program was used to create the mass legion of robots in "I, Robot," the battle scenes in "Lord of the Rings," the crowd scenes in the new theatrical release, "Kong," and the crowd in the gallery on that cute little "Kid Tiger Woods" commercial spot for Nike).
From an article written by Courtney Macavinta, and published on the wire.com website: "The computer-generated characters used in these scenes, called 'agents,' have minds of their own. 'Every agent has its own choices and a complete brain,' Regelous said. 'The most important thing about making realistic crowds is making realistic individuals.'In Massive, agents' brains -- which look like intricate flow charts -- define how they see and hear, how fast they run and how slowly they die. 
Like real people, agents' body types, clothing and the weather influence their capabilities. Agents aren't robots, though. Each makes subtle responses to its surroundings with fuzzy logic rather than yes-no, on-off decisions. And every agent has thousands of brain nodes, such as their combat node, which has rules for their level of aggression.
When an animator places agents into a simulation, they're released to do what they will. It's not crowd control but anarchy. That's because each agent makes decisions from its (own) point of view." (Hmmm......now from what theological viewpoint is that statement coming? Just kidding.........not gonna go that route).
Sorry. Continuing with Regelous' comments from the Macavinta article: "Still, when properly genetically engineered, the right character will always win the fight. 'It's possible to rig fights, but it hasn't been done," Regelous said. "In the first test fight (for Lord of the Rings) we had 1,000 silver guys and 1,000 golden guys. We set off the simulation, and in the distance you could see several guys running for the hills.'" (That I would have loved to have been on hand to see).
Regelous went on to say, "I can't tell what's Massive and what's not anymore." (Okay, now that comment is just plain scary!)
Incidentally, if you would like to put this incredible software to work for you, Massive 2.0 is available for a mere $18,000 USD per permanent interactive license, plus $4,000 per year for updates and support. Pocketchange, right?
(You know, the old flip-digit style--like the one that woke Bill Murray's character every morning in "Groundhog Day). 
About a year ago, I made a mistake. I bit down on a piece of hard candy--you know, the kind that you're supposed to allow to dissolve in your mouth--Jolly Rancher, starlight mints, that kind of thing? Ever since I was a child, I've never been able to eat hard candy without biting it and chewing it up instead of simply sucking on it. I'm not exactly sure why, but let's just say I don't think I'll ever know how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Pop! I guess I'm just too impatient. Well, after 39+ years of biting down on hard candy, I finally cracked a molar about a year ago. Ever since, the crack has gotten larger and larger, and the pain stronger and stronger. Finally, it got to be too much to bear, and I broke down and went to visit my dentist this morning (who, I learned today, was featured on one of the Nashville episodes of "The Simple Life"--now I understand why this crown is costing over a thousand buckeroos--my dentist has become a celebrity!)
"I'm going to poke your gum with this-you tell me if you can feel it, okay?" Gotcha. Any feeling-I'll let you know. He pricks it, and I can feel the tiniest little twinge of pain. "I felt it," I announced. "Okay, I'm going to give you a little more and see if we can get you a little bit more numb." So, he gives me another injection with his "harpoon." After a few minutes, I can't feel my throat, and I feel like I can't swallow. "Great," I'm thinking, "what if my nose gets stopped up, and then I can't breathe?" My entire bottom set of teeth is numb, my tongue is numb, and my throat is numb. Okay, now I'm paralyzed." About 10 minutes later, he returns to try again with the dental pick. I still feel his poking and prodding. I explain to him that when I had my wisdom teeth extracted, the dentist had to give me two doses of anesthesia. I'm very resistant to letting go of control of a situation, (which is an area of my life that I am still growing in). So he says he's going to give me some "juice" because that will take care of numbing in about 2 or three minutes. (One more time with the "whale impaler"). Six injections for one tooth, friends!
This finally does the trick, and for 30 minutes as he drills, tiny pieces of enamel and a silver filling I had are flying all over the place-landing in my eye, bouncing off his protective glasses--(I thought I was in a high school woodshop class)! Finally, they got it to the point they wanted, and applied the temporary crown. So, for three weeks, while the lab is making my permanent porcelain crown,
I get to wear a silver crown on my molar similar to this . (I suddenly feel inspired to write a rap tune).
By the way, the injections didn't bother me, and the procedure was virtually pain-free. But when the anesthetic began to wear off, I felt as though someone had sucker-punched me right in the jaw. Believe me, I no longer bite hard candy. I've learned my lesson well. Take it from me--just let your candy melt in your mouth (or only indulge in chocolate--which is my favorite, anyway!)
YUM!
ECB'ers (this one is for the "Camponthis" blog readers)-If you don't repeal this tax on all toys, we will stage a boycott of the toys, and see that you are not re-elected.
Amish - Toys with batteries are surely a sin.
Vacation: July 26 - July 29, 2005. First off, I have a question: When did vacations become such hard work? Was it when I became an adult? I don't remember having to work so hard to have a good time when I was on vacation as a child. I don't remember even noticing or caring how hot the temperature is, or what the humidity and perspiration was doing to my hair, etc. Oh well, I suppose that's part of the magic of childhood. Since this was an abbreviated vacation, I ended up spending a large portion of the time exploring the Lookout Mountain/Chattanooga area of East Tennessee. (See photos I took below). The area is rich in Civil War history. The defeat of the Confederate army in this area allowed Sherman to continue his march into North Georgia, through Atlanta, and eventually to the sea in Savannah, GA. In 1890, Arthur MacArthur, (yes, that was really his name), father of General Douglas MacArthur, received the Medal of Honor for his Civil War service at Missionary Ridge in Chattanooga.
Flashback: It's Summer, 1977, and I'm about 11 years old. I'm playing in my grandparents' yard in east Tennessee with three of my younger cousins: Stephen, Cheri, and Paul. We've all grown bored with "hide-and-seek" and are looking to do something a little more adventurous. Spotting a 4-foot high mound of dirt, which my grandfather uses for landscaping, I shout, "Let's take turns sliding down the dirt!" The four of us scramble to form a line on the back side of the mound. I bring up the rear, because I don't want to soil my clothes, unless the adventure seems to be worth it.
My cousins slide down, one at a time, and seem to be having a jolly good time. Just as I climb to the top of the mound to take my turn, my grandmother's voice comes shrieking from the 2nd-story bedroom window overlooking our "slide": "Hey! You kids stop that right now! You march right upstairs and wait for me outside the bathroom!" Uh-oh.........the "bathroom..........." At this point, the four of us know that the jig is up, and we are doomed. We slowly trudge up the flight of stairs from the basement, sensing our impending punishment. I'm thinking, "But I didn't even get to slide!" My grandmother appears at the top of the stairs, and promptly begins her lecture: "You should be ashamed of yourselves--playing in the dirt, ruining your clothes! Now your poor mothers will have to wash those filthy clothes. Line up right here..........you're going to be punished."
So, one at a time, we bravely take our turns getting spanked--with a switch, so I guess we were actually thrashed. (Unfortunately, I do get to take my turn at this activity). Obstinate creatures we were, we tried to pretend that it didn't hurt us, so she lined us up a second time, and repeated her correction.
Fast forward:
It's 2005--28 years after the "dirt mound" incident. My grandmother is no longer with us; I'm certain that she's in heaven, maybe even helping the angels keep their robes clean and white. Though I never got to experience the "fun" of sliding down that old mound of dirt, my grandmother knew my motives. She knew my intent, and she knew my heart--just like our Heavenly Father does. If we hadn't gotten caught, I would have slid and gotten dirty myself.With fondness, I now remember the lesson I learned that day. Oh, the second spanking hurt, but the pain has long been forgotten, although the lesson lingers. Beware the folly that taints your heart. By the way, never again have I even considered sliding down a mound of dirt. (I'm a grown-up now, and would look pretty silly participating in such activities. [Besides, these days, my 70+year old mother would most likely tell me to go wash my own playclothes!])
