Passion Without Precision: Or, Why I like the Wii

I am a citizen of klutzville. I've never really gotten the hang of the whole "fine motor skill development" thing, which made sports one of those activities to which I vaguely aspired but didn't want to be known as "Mr. Lose us the game" Leo. I suppose part of what drew me to Cross-country in high school is that no coordination was required, so I couldn't drag the team down with me. Besides, since it didn't involve my hands or a ball, there were fewer potential body parts to maim. Heck, even with Cross-Country, I constantly managed to sprain my right ankle.

Over Thanksgiving, we visited my wife's side of the family, where I got to engage in all sorts of sports--bowling, baseball, and tennis--all within the comfort of someone else's home. As some of you might remember, one of my fondest activities when visiting my wife's family is to play their video games, so I can reap the full benefits of a game without ever paying for it, in a non-piracy non-immoral kind of way. As an indication of how out of touch I am with the outside world, when my brother-in-law announced he was bringing over his Wii, I had no idea what it was.

What is a wii? It's a motion-sensitive game system. No longer do you play "baseball" simply by hitting a button at the right time: now, you have to swing the controller at the right time as well! Now, I do have a few quibbles about the wii, but they mostly revolve around their name. When I hear the sound "wii," I think adjective, as in, "wee little beastie." To the degree that I associate the sound "wii" with being a noun, it is only when you say the word twice and are talking about the bathroom. I guess there's no reason why we can't simply rehabilitate the phoneme so it has fewer associations with natural functions, but it would have been easier just to pick a different name.

One of the most impressive features of the wii is it refutes the common objection that computer game systems encourage people to be couch potatoes. I haven't had such a good workout in ages! I was so sore from playing the wii that it was only through sheer strength of will that I successfully lifted my arm in the air to brush my teeth. Even so, my tongue had to come to my aid and spread the toothpaste around a bit.

I suppose what I like best about the wii, however, is that I don't have to be good at sports. I was very hyperactive as a kid, accidentally kicking people at mealtime because I couldn't sit still. I had had the energy to run around doing sports, but I didn't actually have any skill. In real life baseball, it doesn't matter how energetically you swing a bat if all you are hitting is the air--the air currents just aren't enough to make the ball reverse directions. In real-life bowling, it doesn't matter how hard you throw the ball if you aimed it directly at the gutter. However, the wii often rewards such exhibitions of energy! I, who am virtually incapable of actually hitting a ball in real life, hit nine home runs out of ten possible on the wii! On the wii, I have consistently got bowling totals that were actually three digit numbers! I don't have to aim, I just have to move my hand at the right time and with enthusiasm! Now, occasionally my bursts of exuberance have unfortunate consequences in real life, such as accidentally swinging my controller so high that I hit the ceiling with it. Still, no one was injured, and I think I convinced people that the whole thing was intentional on my part.

Super-Hero Eating Disorders

As you might have heard, a couple of months ago, Madrid's Fashion Week tried to combat super model eating disorders by banning participants who fell below a certain body mass index. While there has been a great deal of speculation about whether other nations will follow Madrid's lead in their treatment of super models, there has not been widespread speculation on how this might affect other industries, such as super-heroing.

The implications first came to my attention while reading Essential Luke Cage, Power Man, Volume 1, which contains the first 27 issues of the comic. Power Man, according to the back cover of the book, is "comics' first and foremost black superstar of the seventies." Imprisoned for a crime he did not commit, Luke agreed to participate in dangerous scientific experiments which would reduce his sentence, but through an accident, he was endowed with superhuman strength and, more importantly, weight.

At first, I thought the weight detail was relatively insignificant in comparison to the huge biceps. The first reference to his weight seemed circumstantial enough in issue #3, p. 12: While Luke is tearing off a fire-escape ladder, he muses, "Keep learnin' more 'bout what doc's experiment did to me--like my weight. Still look 180...But hit 300 on the scales!" Seems like an innocent enough thought for a super-hero while he's tearing off a ladder.

But in the issues that follow, I soon discovered that Luke Cage is rather obsessed about his weight. In the first 26 issues, there are 18 explicit references to his weighing approximately 300 pounds. For the interests of posterity, they occur in: issue #3, p. 12; #5, p. 12; #6, p. 11; #8, p. 4; #8, p. 7; #9, p. 15; #11, p. 6; #12, cover; #12, p. 10; #14, p. 8; # 15, p. 5 (three different times on the same page!--I only count this as one reference); #17, p. 6; #17, p. 17; #18, p. 8; #18, p. 13; #23, p. 6; #24, p. 4; #26, p. 2.

Am I alone in thinking this is weird? Now, I know someone could say, "Perhaps it's not Luke Cage's obsession--he just happen to fall victim to a writer who happened to be dieting at the time, and transferred his own anxieties to his writing." However, during these 26 issues, Power Man had four different writers, each of whom made reference to his 300 pounds of weight! And apparently, it is not simply the case that Luke Cage was himself obsessed about his weight: so is the narrator/caption-writer, and so are his enemies! For instance, when Georgie escapes Power Man, he says to himself, "Oooo, mama! Ol' Georgie done won out again! That Cage boy can't even scramble with a 300-pound body!" I suppose it's understandable that Power Man would be self-conscious about his weight, if his enemies make fun of him for weighing 300 pounds and being slow.

Power Man brings up his weight upon rather odd occasions. For example, when he fights a space-alien who is trying to kill Dr. Doom, Power Man remarks, "Murder's a gig I don't take kindly to ... all 300 pounds o' me!" I guess I understand why he might say something like, "Murder's a gig I don't take kindly to ... nor do my powerpunching fists!" Somehow, I find the prospect of powerpunching fists far more threatening than 300 pounds. The sad thing is, perhaps to Power Man, 300 pounds is more threatening ... to himself. He often blames his failures on weighing three hundred pounds. For example, he thinks to himself, "those motherless jokers are splitin'--an' I don't know if I can move my three-hundred pound bod fast enough to nab 'em." Why not just say, "They're too fast?" No. If only his bod were less than three-hundred pounds, he could have caught up to them. The super-hero Quicksilver never would have had this problem.

The narrator constantly calls our attention to Power Man's weight, demanding we take it seriously as a formative aspect of his identity. For example, take this description of Power Man jumping from a roof-top: "Cage backs up, then races toward the edge of the Crayton building ... three hundred pounds of human power rockets across the deserted avenue ... three hundred pounds leaps from the sixteen-story structure to a twelve-story structure across the wide expanse ... three hundred pounds hits the roof of police headquarters and although that roof shudders and cracks--mama, it holds!" Given that narrators do not often use phrases like, "mama, it holds," it is quite probable that Marvel intends for us to think that the narrator is African-American (or at least employing slang that is supposed to be African-American). So, I ask, why is it that there are so many African-American characters--Power Man, his African-American enemies, his African-American narrator--all obsessed with weight? Are the writers trying to say that the African-American community wrestles with weight gain in the way that whites just cannot understand? Even the Marvel Comics characters who tend to struggle a lot with weight-related issues--say, Kingpin or the Blob (both white characters)--are not constantly informing us about how much they weigh.

I suppose the point is that, just as we need to encourage super-models not to be too skinny, we need to encourage super-heroes that it's okay to weigh 300 pounds, regardless of their race. In repartee with super-villains, it's okay to mention other things than their weight, like their mammoth fists or their bullet-bouncing chests. It is tragic when 300 pounds weighs heavier on a hero's mind than on his or her body.

Wicked-pedia

I just came across a great blog called the Wikipedia Knowledge Dump. You might be familiar with wikipedia as a kind of democratic internet encyclopedia, where anyone can write an entry and edit an entry (with some external oversight). Sadly, the oversight can sometimes become totalitarian, as editors try to remove valuable material just because it is untrue, silly, or baffling. Wikipedia Knowledge Dump valuably calls your attention to Wikipedia articles that are in danger of becoming extinct because people, for various reasons, want them destroyed. For example, the Knowledge Dump provides the text of his fascinating article on "exophilia": "Exophilia is an attraction, generally sexual in nature, to new, strange, or otherworldly things, such as extraterrestrial lifeforms, supernatural beings, and robots." Knowledge Dump provides a link to the wikipedia article, so you can see why people want to delete the article--for example, one person gives the rather frivolous cause for ethnic cleansing, "I hate aliens." Superman was an alien, would you kill him too?

Wikipedia deleters also have a prejudice against the silly and the wacky. Again, thanks to the Knowledge Dump for listing this article on the "beard theorem," which is in danger of deletion. "The Beard Theorem is a political theorem that relates to the Communist Party and its members. The Beard Theorem is a theory that suggests that the size of one's Beard, whether it be a puff, French Fork or Mutton Chop, has a direct correlation to the radicality of a person's Socialist views. If one was to have a large, beard, that person has a higher chance of being a communist revolutionary than one other person who has only as moustache, or worse: no facial hair at all. This theorem is proved by many of the communist Russian revolutionaries of the 1900's, those like Karl Marx, who has a massive, beard and, in accordance to the theorem, is a great communist. V.I. Lenin, the leader of the Russian Revolution, had a beard, yet it was not as profound, thus he is not as truly communist as Marx or Engels, as he has a relatively small beard, but it is still present and is truth of his communisity. Josef Stalin, the leader of the Communist Vanguard Party in Russia from the mid 1920's to 1952, has no beard, yet has a moustache. Stalin, in accordance to the theorem thus has very little Communist Blood in him, as he is a Stalinist, and a social fascist. Exceptions to the rule is most East Asian Communist leaders."

Now, Several people suggest removing the "beard theorem" article because it is "nonsense." Well, is the theory that the sun revolves around the earth "nonsense" too? Okay, yes it is! But why then do these same naysayers not object to the Wikipedia article on geocentric models of the solar system, even though such a model is clearly nonsensical? Hypocrisy, thy name is anti-beard person! Besides, evolution's just a theory, too, but they teach it in the public schools, so why don't we give equal time to the beard theorem? Perhaps the two theories may even be mutually informative (e.g., would bearded or non-bearded people be better adapted for survival in Communist Russia?).

Celebrate the Fig

The Dull Men's Club has declared November "Fig Month." Take time out of your busy schedule to observe this holimonth with your loved ones, or to sample figs in the privacy of your own home. Remember, the fig does not just have high fiber and nutritional content; it is also eschatological. Enjoy!

The Rogaine Song

According to Energy Australia, the Australian energy supplier, people can help stop an energy crisis by taking shorter showers, and by singing shorter songs in the shower. But what sort of song should they sing?

Well, I woke up this morning in my traditionally incoherent fashion, and, per usual, I had a song in my head. It was Paula Abdul's "Promise of a New Day." Before I knew it, I was singing the wrong words to myself. Serendipitously, I think these incorrect lyrics suggest a solution to the energy crisis. Now, one of the reasons for taking a longer shower is that, Psycho aside, bad things tend not to happen there. Showers are generally peaceful places, and even if we are getting batted in the face with steaming water, it is masochistically soothing water. So what we need to do is make the shower a place of despair and wretchedness. I have been trying to think of the Psycho equivalent for guys, and I think I have it: baldness. Imagine blithely lathering a liberal dose of shampoo on your head, and then staring in stunned silence at a liberal helping of loose hair stuck to your hand. Who wants to be reminded that one's hair is going the way of the Antarctic's ozone layer? We will do all we can to escape such a reminder, even if it involves jumping out of the shower with shampoo still on. Therefore, I recommend that Energy Australia not simply encourage guys to sing "shorter songs" in the shower, but to sing songs about baldness.

I recognize that my recommendation may have some drawbacks. On the negative side, a guy might become so scared of baldness that he will never shampoo or comb his hair again in the fear that more fragile follicles will be doomed by his actions; this might result in a rise in household smelliness and, consequently, divorce. But on the plus side, if guys associate showers with baldness and sorrow, they'll finish up more quickly, and future generations of energy-users will be saved!

It is in that spirit that I submit my parody of Paula Abdul's chorus to "Promise of a New Day." I am only writing the chorus because, if the song is truly effective, guys will not have time in the shower to sing the rest of the lyrics. Paula Abdul's original chorus is as follows:

"Eagle's calling and he's calling your name
Tides are turning bringing winds of change
Why do I feel this way?
The promise of a new day.
The promise
The promise of a new day."

The revised chorus is as follows:

"Hairs are falling out, I'm calling Rogaine.
Tufts are tumbling down and clogging drains.
Will they all fall away?
Then I must get a toupee.
Then I must
Think I must get a toupee."