Creepy Fun for 47 Seconds

Quick, look at the clock on the wall. When the red second hand hits the 12, click this link and have fun. I enjoyed myself for less than a minute. But I'll admit I was creeped out the entire time.

Note: Completely safe for work. It's even safe for kids. No fat male nudity (I promise). You'll need a mouse and cursor for the full effect, so don't even try with a BlackBerry or smartphone. For more on this page, check out Boing Boing.

Time to Put a Name to a Face

The last time I felt like shining a spotlight on an actor in a sitcom, it was the dude who plays "Kenneth" on 30 Rock (different blog). I always crack up between the moment he appears on camera and the moment he delivers his first line.

Now there's another guy who provokes a similar reaction, and I didn't realize it until this week: it's the actor who plays "Sheldon" on CBS' Big Bang Theory.

If you haven't watched it--or if you tried it early and bailed--go back and give it another chance. It's worth it to watch Sheldon as the ultimate straight man. He's so straight he makes Niles Crain look like McConaughey wired on cat piss (new South Park, anyone?).

This week's episode featured a lie spinning out of control when Sheldon feels compelled to strengthen a flimsy white one with sandbag after sandbag of reinforcements. It was one of the funniest shows I've seen all year.

Check out Jim Parsons as Sheldon. He'll make you want to watch Garden State again to spot him.

New Diversions on the Block

I may not have posted my unanswered questions to last week's Lost yet, but I've still got my finger on the pulse of pop culture. Here's what I was up to today, beginning at 6:00 AM.

• Finished the first four episodes of Battlestar Galactica's third season. After the jarring (and clumsy) new status quo of the previous season's finale, it now looks like the producers have patched some holes, teased upcoming conflicts, and sent Adama's ship back on its journey to ultimate hardcore-ness.* I should finish the entire season just in time for new episodes to begin airing on Sci Fi. Then I'll have to wait from week to week like any other schmuck.
• Marvel Comics has its very own fly-in-the-ointment/John McClane running around the office, dishing dirt on lame editorial decisions. His name is Marvel_B0y, and while there's a possibility he's the fictional creation of the marketing department designed to generate some buzz, I prefer to believe a punk kid has the brass balls to pull aside the curtain and reveal the soft underbelly of the Marvel offices. Unfortunately, this guy thinks he's Teflon and can't possibly be fired--which, speaking from experience, is a dangerous mindset for any blogger to adopt. It's a riveting read, especially for me. But the longer it goes on, the more I'll believe I've been had.
• I started watching Top Chef on Bravo earlier this month, but not because I wanted to see contestants with faux-hawks and tattoos crying on camera. I watched to see my buddy Dean in the block party episode. Tonight he appeared onscreen about three times. He shares his journal from the day it was filmed over here.

* Hardcore-osity?

I Can Neither Confirm Nor Deny

As regular readers of my blog know, I have a wooden block for a head. It gives the title an excellent double meaning and it puts a little steam in my stride for thinking of it. New readers either accept it or they don't and move on with their Google searches for "Beowulf" or "Hot Rod." *

If I had a human head, though, it would look much like the handsome one sitting atop the South Park-generated avatar to the left.

I can't confirm the human head, however, since I see a block with drawn-on glasses and a smirk when I look in the mirror.

The keen eyes of regular readers will also notice a new addition to my blogroll. Just as Lennon had McCartney; and just as McGone has two pink, hairless friends named Slinger and Bakonstein; I've got Dean Xene.

I encourage you to check out the exploits of my gifted pal since the 8th grade in his new blog. He's a family man, a master of kung fu, and one hell of an architect. Check out his sketchbook/journal on Flickr and see the kind of impressive stuff he's been showing me since college.

Oh, and Dean has a tendency to refer to me as "Al Damage." I'm not sure where he gets that. It sounds like some weak, pre-blogosphere attempt at a cyber nom de plume, circa 2000.

Remember: my actual name, as far as you know, is "Eric Rider." I'm an unemployed writer with a wooden block for a head. I'm not a real boy.

* Which are both, inexplicably, drawing a daily visitor total of 30 hits a day.

Netflix: The Waiting Is the Hardest Part

Fours months.

I added Live Free or Die Hard to the top of my Netflix queue on November 19--the day before its release on Blu-ray.

It arrived in the mail friggin' yesterday.

During that time period, 51 other titles were shipped instead of the Bruce Willis/Mac Guy extravaganza I'd been waiting for so patiently.

You don't understand.

While I sat here with my thumb up my ass waiting for Netflix to get their shit together, Led Zeppelin reunited, 89 MLB players were accused of using steroids, Queen Elizabeth II became the oldest living monarch of the U.K., Evel Knievel died of non-stunt causes, the price of oil hit $100 a barrel, snow fell in Mexico, Iran launched a rocket into space, and HD DVD officially joined Betamax as a commercially unsuccessful video format.

I find it awfully convenient that the movie arrived exactly a third of a year after I added it.

Does Netflix have a four-month waiting policy on new movies that we don't know about? I know they recently changed their site to make it damned harder for subscribers to search for new releases, which was bad enough.

I'll be waiting for 3:10 to Yuma till summer, at this rate.

My love/hate relationship with Netflix continues.