Horrorfest 2011: Onibaba

ONIBABA takes place in medieval Japan as the country is torn apart by war. Opposing generals set their Samurai warriors against each other and armies kidnap helpless peasant men from their farms and force them to enlist. A young woman (Jitsuko Yoshimura) loses her husband in the war and is forced to scrape together what food and resources she can by teaming up with her mother in law (Nobuko Otowa) to kill samurai warriors who wander through their part of the swamp, strip them of their armor and weapons, and sell the goods on the black market to a crooked local merchant (Taiji Tonoyama). Together, the two women dispose of the samurai bodies in an ominous, mysterious, deep, dark hole hidden in the tall grass surrounding their home.

This daily routine is interrupted when a male peasant named Hachi (Kei Sato) escapes the war and returns home. He simultaneously butts into their morbid business and unabashedly attempts to woo the young woman, much to her mother in law’s disapproval and jealousy.

A chance encounter with a demon-masked samurai general (Jukichi Uno) gives the mother in law an idea for a plan to scare her daughter in law off of the love affair for good, taking advantage of cultural superstition in the process. Unfortunately, the demon mask may not just be a mask, and the superstitions may have something to them.

The story doesn’t really veer into horror territory until the last reel or so, with the arrival of the demon-masked samurai, who is definitely creepy. However, the whole set up puts the viewer ill at ease from the beginning, thanks in part to the eclectic musical score that seems to be at odds with what might normally be considered music. But the unease is mostly due to the setting, what with the restless rustling of the tall grass, the mysterious hole filled with dead samurai bodies, and the way the central characters constantly eye each other with suspicion. When they’re eating, they huddle around their food like abused animals, as if they’re afraid someone’s going to swoop in and take it from them. When they sleep, they keep one eye open.

ONIBABA is further proof that you don’t have to be trashy to be a horror film. This Japanese film has enough over the top drama and eroticism to put the pulpiest novel or grittiest grindhouse flick to shame. But it’s shot in immaculate black and white in magnificent nature settings and every scene takes place in waving grass fields where the blades tower over the heads of the people who live there. So, the horror story unfolds in the shadow of beautiful scenery, which elevates a relatively simple story of lust, murder, jealousy, making the film at once more surreal and more beautiful than many otherwise thematically similar horror flicks, a juxtaposition, which, in turn, makes the horror that much uglier.

Horrorfest 2011: The Testament of Dr. Mabuse

Banned in Germany upon its first release in 1933 and never fully appreciated in the U.S. until the 1970s, THE TESTAMENT OF DR. MABUSE was cinematic genius Fritz Lang's second sound-era film after the classic Peter Lorre crime thriller, M. Like M, MABUSE features the character of Inspector Lohman (Otto Wernicke), making the film a bit of a pseudo-sequel. It's a more direct sequel to Lang's earlier DR. MABUSE: THE GAMBLER, a film I have never seen but should now add to my must-see list.

Aside from M, I've also seen one of Lang's other masterpieces many times, the sci-fi epic METROPOLIS. MABUSE shares many qualities with Lang's earlier efforts -- they all tell stories utilizing the many layers of an urban society, from top to bottom, and they're all set in dark and ominous locations. MABUSE has the gangland and police procedural angles of M and the expressionistic dream-like elements of METROPOLIS.

One thing MABUSE has that the others do not have is a supernatural element. But, I'm getting ahead of the plot -- the Mabuse of the title (Rudolf Klein-Rogge) is a criminal mastermind who has been held in an insane asylum for years, under the study of Professor Baum (Oscar Beregi, Sr.). Mostly catatonic, all Mabuse does is sit up in his bed and write endless pages of a criminal manifesto -- a sort of criminal genius' how-to guide for a variety of perfect crimes, ultimately leading up to the destruction of society, and maybe even mankind, through the acts of senseless chaos -- crime for crime's sake. Mabuse is one of the first of many super villains who would later be commonly found in comic books and Saturday morning cartoons (and later, big budget movies based on the same).

Mabuse's written ramblings are somehow making their way out of the asylum and manifesting themselves as actual plots in an intricate criminal underworld that is slowly but surely taking over the city. Among these criminals is Kent (Gustav Diessl) who has turned to crime as a result of the shitty economy, but starts to balk when the crimes veer towards violence, and is tempted to give it all up to run away with his sweetheart (Wera Liessem).

The afore-mentioned Inspector Lohman, a cranky but brilliant criminal investigator, becomes interested in the investigation when Hofmeister (Karl Meixner), a once promising cop who has since fallen from grace, contacts him with some leads. Unfortunately, before Lohman knows what has happened, Hofmeister is behind the bars of Baum's insane asylum, creepily chattering to himself in his cell.

I promised a supernatural element before. Without giving away too much, let's just say there are a couple ghosts walking around and that Mabuse might have some telepathic powers beyond that of your average every day criminal mastermind. Then again, maybe the ghosts are the figments of a crazed imagination? Maybe Mabuse isn't telepathic after all? You never know.

Most of the movie plays like a somewhat melodramatic police procedural. A lot of this is the stuff of movie serials -- an untouchable villain dispatching his endless hordes of henchman to ravage the city, while our heroes go through several cliffhangers, car chases, and explosions. The difference is, here we've got great production values, intricate plotting and ambiguously creepy moments instead of solved mysteries.

My favorite part was Karl Meixner's performance as the ex-cop apparently driven insane by Dr. Mabuse. He sings this creepy "Gloria" song whenever he becomes afraid, in a wavering, child-like voice. The use of the song here is somewhat reminiscent of the use of the child killer's whistling in M and similarly never failed to send a chill down my spine.

There's an interesting dichotomy in this film between the mundane and even gritty settings of warehouses, the street thug characters, the matter of fact cops and the more supernatural or comic booky elements of the story. One set, in particular, takes full advantage of this dichotomy -- an abandoned room in which the criminals receive their instructions from the mastermind, again, presumably Mabuse, who literally sits behind a curtain. One half of the room looks like an authentic abandoned room in a bombed out building, with peeling wallpaper and a bricked up window. The other half of the room is the territory of afternoon serials, with a row of lights illuminating a shadowy figure behind a curtain, who commands his minions with an authoritative (maybe even hypnotic?) voice.

I was glad to see another of Lang's films, albeit a less famous one than either M or METROPOLIS. In some ways, MABUSE is a little less ground breaking than its predecessors because it's simply not as flashy or gimmicky. But, in other ways, MABUSE is way ahead of its time in the way it uses several levels of a complex social system to carefully allow its story to unfold without hitting the audience over the head with too much explanation. In this way, MABUSE has more in common with the film so the latter half of the 20th century than it does with its contemporaries, which might explain why it took so long to get some recognition.

Horrorfest 2011: The Fly (1986)

It's time for Horrorfest 2011. Like last October and the October before it, in honor of Halloween, I'm going to watch 31 horror movies in 31 days. Like last year, I'm going to stick to movies I haven't seen before. And guess what? I've never seen THE FLY!

I wrote about the original THE FLY during Horrorfest 2009. This year it's the 1986 remake directed by David Cronenberg. I've seen a few Cronenberg flicks in my day, ranging from ones I really like (VIDEODROME) to ones I could do without (CRASH). Like many of the flicks I end up watching during these "fests" THE FLY is the type of movie I kind of feel like I've basically seen before even if I haven't ever actually gotten around to watching the whole thing. Being a movie nerd, I've heard about THE FLY enough to know what I was getting into.

THE FLY stars Jeff Goldblum as an eccentric scientist (a role he'd be stuck playing the rest of his life) who has created a teleportation system with one flaw -- it doesn't seem to work on living flesh. Geena Davis is an ambitious journalist who wants to write the definitive chronicle of the creation of this miraculous device. Davis' creepy boss (John Getz) is still leering around, hoping to rekindle a previous affair between the two. Unfortunately for him, Davis would rather bone Goldblum and the two get to knocking boots right quick, between experiments.

Of course, the titular fly gets into the teleportation device with Goldblum and everything goes wrong. At first his body seems to react positively to the fusion of the human an insect genetics, but eventually his body starts disintegrating piece by piece as a monster emerges from beneath his own skin.

As usual, with Cronenberg, a lot of the material deals with the philosophical implications of what the physical world means -- what makes a human? How do we tick? What are the barriers between the outside world and the world inside of us? Are there any barriers at all? Are we just kidding ourselves? Etc.

And, as usual, all that stuff is interesting. THE FLY benefits from having a lurid plot torn from the pages of pulp sci-fi magazines and the makeup and special effects guys make sure the movie wallows extravagantly in these exploitative origins. This keeps the movie from ever taking itself too seriously or ever falling too neatly into any single paint by numbers plot -- sure, it's horror and it's sci-fi, but it also doesn't have clear heroes or villains and has its fair share of laughs along with scares. So, Cronenberg gets to have his high brow explorations while deftly avoiding the pitfall of boring the audience.

Probably the most terrifying scene in the movie involves a Geena Davis dream sequence in a clinical setting. I don't want to give it away, but it definitely counts as "horror."

Towards the end of the flick things do start getting potentially too ridiculous, but luckily as Goldblum's monster mad scientist spirals out of control, the movie comes to a swift close, and never gives the audience a chance to really question what's going on.

All in all, a good start to Horrorfest 2011 -- it was a good flick, a movie I've meant to see for a while, a remake to a flick I've already seen, and I can check another entry off the list in a famous filmmaker's body of work that I intend to see more of . Should be a good month.

Bedtime story

Here's a bedtime story I made up a few weeks ago. Like most bedtime stories, I imagine it loses some of its charm once it is written down. So, do me a favor: just imagine it has more charm, if that's possible.

Once upon a time there was a far away kingdom ruled by a kindly King. His castle overlooked a beautiful lake. On the other side of the lake was a mountain range that reached all the way to the clouds. Above the clouds, on top of the tallest mountain, there lived a Dragon who spent his days hoarding treasure.

Legend had it that if a hero was brave enough to confront the dragon, the hero would have the choice between either taking the riches or having one wish granted by the Dragon's magic. But no hero had dared to try to cross the lake, which was as treacherous as it was beautiful, or climb the mountains, which were as steep as they were majestic, or ascend through the clouds, which were as stormy as they were heavenly.

The King had one daughter. She was a beautiful Princess and ever since she was a newborn, the King had loved her so much that he would kiss each of her delicate and dainty little fingers before she went to sleep. The Princess grew over the course of a few years from a baby to a little girl, and every night the King would give each of her fingers a kiss before she went to bed.

The Dragon on the top of the mountain heard tales of the King and his beautiful daughter and the nightly finger kisses and grew angry. After his days of hoarding, the Dragon return to his den, where he lived alone, and struggled to sleep every night. It wasn't fair, he thought, that the Princess should have someone to kiss her fingers until she fell asleep, while he should sit in his den on top of the mountains and toss and turn all night. The angrier the Dragon got, the more violent his daily treasure hunts became, until he was feared throughout the kingdom.

The Cloud people, who lived in the clouds, feared his mighty wings that caused great wind storms. The Rock people, who lived on the sides of the mountains, feared his claws, for they tore through stone like it was paper. The Water people, who lived in the lake, feared the Dragon's fiery breath, for it was hot enough to evaporate even the bravest Water Warrior. The Cloud people, Rock people and Water people could not agree to form an alliance to fight the dragon, however, because of centuries of fighting and petty differences. The King's army of men had similar differences with the various tribes of the kingdom and couldn't face the Dragon alone, either.

One day the Princess asked her father, "Daddy, why does the Dragon attack the people of our kingdom?"

"You are a lucky little girl who gets a royal kiss on each of her royal fingers every night to help you go to sleep," the King explained to his daughter. "The Dragon is on top of the mountain by himself and has no one to kiss his fingers until he falls asleep. He is lonely and spiteful and takes it out on everyone in the kingdom."

"Why doesn't someone go kiss his fingers, then?" the Princess asked.

"If anyone approached the Dragon, they'd be burnt by his fire breath and slashed by his claws, and if they weren't dead by then, he'd fly them high into the sky with his mighty wings and drop them from a great height," the King said. "No one dares."

"If I went to visit the Dragon, I would be so nice that he wouldn't be able to attack me," the Princess said. "Then, I'd give him kisses on his fingers so he could get a good night's sleep, and once he gets a good night's sleep, he will stop attacking the people of our kingdom. Anyway, he's right -- it isn't fair that I should get kisses on my fingers while he should live a life alone in his cave."

"You are a good hearted girl," the King said. "But you mustn't ever try to visit the Dragon. It's too dangerous. No matter how nice you are, he would attack you. That is why he doesn't have any friends."

"Has anyone been nice to him before?" the Princess asked.

"I don't know," the King said. "I suppose not."

"Well, then, how do we know what would happen?" the Princess asked.

"I refuse to risk it," the King said. "And if I must, then I hereby forbid you from leaving the castle grounds."

That night, though the King kissed each of the Princess' dainty fingers, she still tossed and turned. She couldn't stop thinking about the lonely Dragon. She also couldn't stop thinking about the innocent people of the kingdom who suffered daily attacks from the angry Dragon. She woke up early the next morning, packed a basket with bread, cheese and milk, and snuck out of the castle grounds to start her journey.

She had chosen a nice summer day for her travels. The birds chirped and the trees rustled in the light breeze. She stuck to the main trail and eventually came upon the beautiful lake. The blue sky reflected off of the calm water and she could see the mountains rising on the other side. The Princess untied one of the royal row boats from the dock and started rowing across.

About halfway across the lake the water suddenly became rough and the boat was tossed about. The Princess gave up rowing and concentrated on just trying to stay inside the boat. It wasn't long before she was washed over board and felt herself being dragged down into the murky depths. Just when the Princess thought all was lost, she felt something pushing her up, up and up, and before she knew it she broke through the surface and landed on the sandy shore at the foot of the mountains. She spit out some water and looked around. She could see the castle all the way on the other side of the lake. At first she thought she had lost her basket but suddenly she spotted it floating safely across the surface of the water. Before it was deposited on the shore in front of her, a watery form rose up around it, slowly taking the shape of a man, who stepped out of the lake, and handed the basket to her.

"You should be careful," the man made of water said. "The water people don't like trespassers and will do anything to keep their lake safe. That's why you were tossed overboard. I noticed you were just a little girl, though, and called off the troops."

"You must be a Water Warrior," the Princess said.

"That's right," the man made of water said. "What are you doing so far away from the castle where the other men made of meat and bone live?"

The Princess explained her mission -- to meet the Dragon, give his fingers kisses, and save the kingdom. The Water Warrior shook his head.

"The Dragon will burn you with his fiery breath," the Water Warrior said. "You must return home."

"I made it this far," the Princess said. "All I have to do now is climb the mountain, go up through the clouds, and kiss the Dragon's fingers."

"Ha," the Water Warrior said. "You make it sound easy. You're foolish, but brave. I will accompany you on your quest as your bodyguard and if the Dragon should try to burn you with his fiery breath, I will use my water powers to put out the flame."

"Oh, thank you!" the Princess said.

Before departing on her journey, the Princess sat down and had a nice little picnic of bread, cheese and milk. She offered some of her provisions to the Water Warrior, but he laughed and shook his head.

"Those things are only for men of meat and bone!" the Water Warrior said.

After lunch, the Princess and the Water Warrior started the climb up the mountains. They were making quick time and decided they'd stop to rest once they reached the place where the clouds touched the trail. They were about halfway to their resting point when the mountains began to rumble and large rocks rolled down from above and rained down upon them.

"I will shield you!" the Water Warrior said, trying to block the Princess from danger. But, it was useless, and the rocks crashed right through his watery body.

Just when it looked like all was lost, a group of rocks nearby rolled together and rose up to form the outline of a man, who used his massive rock arms to bat the falling boulders away. The mountain stopped rumbling and the man made of rock turned to face the Water Warrior and the Princess.

"Run, little girl!" the Water Warrior said. "It's a Rock Warrior! You can't trust them!"

"But he saved my life," the Princess said.

"My rock troops attacked you because you have unlawfully entered our kingdom," the Rock Warrior said. "But I called off the attack because I saw you were just a little girl. What are

you doing so far from home?"

The Princess explained her mission to kiss the Dragon's fingers, and explained how the Water Warrior had helped her across the lake and vowed to protect her from the Dragon's fire.

"That is a more noble vow than I would have thought a Water Warrior would make," the Rock Warrior said. "All I've ever known Water Warriors to do is to erode my people and turn us into sand."

"Well, all you Rock Warriors ever do is keep us Water Warriors contained and tell us where to go and what to do," the Water Warrior said.

"I never thought of that," the Rock Warrior replied. "Princess, I must protest your plan to kiss the Dragon's fingers. Even if the Water Warrior douses his flame, he will cut you up into little ribbons with his claws -- razor sharp claws on the very fingers you intend to kiss."

"Never the less," the Princess said, "I must try. I can't stand to think of the Dragon all alone up there with no one to kiss his fingers. It's no wonder he throws tantrums."

"So be it," the Rock Warrior said. "I will join you on your quest, and if he tries to cut you with his claws I will break his claws with my rock hard skin."

Then the Rock Warrior knelt down and said, "Climb on my back, Princess, and I will carry you the rest of the way up the mountain."

So, the three travelers continued up the mountain until they reached the place where the clouds touched the trail. There they stopped, and the Princess got some more bread and cheese and milk out of her basket and made a nice little dinner.

"The Water Warrior does not eat," the Princess told the Rock Warrior. "But you must be famished after carrying me all this way."

"Oh, no," the Rock Warrior said. "This the Water Warrior and I have in common. We do not eat like men of meat and bone."

After the Princess was done eating, she had a little nap. The Rock Warrior and the Water Warrior got to talking, since neither of them had to sleep and there was nothing to do but sit there and watch the Princess.

"You know, Rock Warrior, I've been thinking," the Water Warrior said. "I think I like rocks the best when I flow by little smooth stones in a shallow brook. It makes me feel so nice I can't help but babble. I suppose rocks aren't all bad."

"I was thinking also," said the Rock Warrior. "And I suppose water isn't so bad either. Why, I once had a nasty bump on my elbow and after just a few thousand years of erosion, it smoothed right out."

After the Princess awoke, the three travelers continued on the trail into the clouds. They climbed and climbed and couldn't tell how close they were to the top of the mountain because of the white fog all around them. Soon the fog began to turn gray, and eventually thunder and lightning clapped and the wind began to howl fiercely. The three companions tried to brave it, leaning against the wind with their arms covering their faces, but each gust was more blustery than the last and threatened to blow them right off the side of the mountain.

"We better wait for the storm to die down," the Rock Warrior said.

But, no sooner had he said that, than a giant gust came along and blew the Princess right off the trail and into the air. The Rock Warrior and the Water Warrior gasped and watched helplessly as the wind tossed the Princess about, certain they'd see her crash to the ground below. Before that could happen, a cloud that was whiter than the other gray ones, appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and acted as a cushion, gently catching the Princess and lifting her up out of the storm. As the wind and thunder and lightning died down, the Rock Warrior and the Water Warrior raced up the trail to find where the white cloud had taken the Princess.

They came upon the Princess at the top of the mountain, where a man made of clouds stood talking to her.

"Get back!" the Rock Warrior warned. "It's a Cloud Warrior!"

"They're the worst!" the Water Warrior said. "Much worse than Rock Warriors!"

"Yes," the Rock Warrior agreed. "And, much worse than Water Warriors!"

"I would have commanded my troops to cast all of you down to the ground below," the Cloud Warrior said. "But, I saw that it was just a little girl, very far from home, and I called my Cloud Warriors off. Now, girl, what were you telling me before? You want to kiss the Dragon's fingers?"

"That's right," the Princess said. "Then, he will get a good night's sleep, and he will be less lonely, and he will stop attacking the kingdom."

"Admirable goal," the Cloud Warrior said. "But dreadfully naive. Do you know how many would be heroes I've seen the Dragon grab in his claws, fly up into the sky with his mighty wings, and then drop from a great height? Even if this Water Warrior can douse his flame and this Rock Warrior can break his claws, you won't stand a chance."

"Still," the Princess said. "I must try. I feel so guilty, getting kisses on each of my fingers every night before I go to bed. Why should I get all the finger kisses? Dragons need finger kisses, too."

"Well, if you're so convinced, then there's nothing I can do to stop you," the Cloud Warrior said. "I don't have to stand by and watch you get killed, though. I will go with you, and if the Dragon tries to drop you from a great height, then I will catch you like a cushion and float you safely to the ground. Just one thing."

"Yes?" the Princess asked.

"Do those two guys have to come along?" the Cloud Warrior asked, pointing at the Rock Warrior and the Water Warrior.

"Why not?" the Princess said. "They're my friends."

"Well, for one thing, the Rock Warriors make caves deep in the Earth where air can't even go. That's not fair," the Cloud Warrior said. "For another, Water Warriors evaporate up into the clouds and make us so full we eventually burst. It hurts."

"Yeah, well, you're no prize," the Rock Warrior said, "Cloud Warriors blow Water Warriors all about, don't they?"

"Yes," the Water Warrior said. "And Cloud Warriors do their fair share of eroding away at the Rock Warriors, too, don't they?"

"They most certainly do," the Rock Warrior said.

"Rock Warrior," the Princess scolded. "I'm surprised at you. Why, didn't you just say that a couple thousand years of erosion got rid of a nasty bump on your elbow?"

"I guess so," the Rock Warrior said. "I thought you were sleeping."

"I had a fitful nap due to a lack of finger kisses," the Princess said. "Which reminds me -- I think it's time to go meet the dragon if you three please."

So, the four travelers continued down the trail at the top of the mountain until they reached the mouth of the dragon's cave.

"Let's rest here before going in," the Princess said. "It might be my last chance and I want to be as alert as possible when I meet the Dragon. Cloud Warrior, do you want any bread or cheese or milk? I know the Rock Warrior and the Water Warrior do not eat, but I thought I'd offer just in case."

"Oh, no," the Cloud Warrior said. "I don't eat either."

While the Princess tried to nap despite her lack of royal finger kisses, the three warriors got to talking.

"I have to confess," the Cloud Warrior said, "I wasn't totally fair back there. We actually enjoy soaking up the evaporating water and then letting it go again as rain. It's refreshing."

"I wasn't fair either," the Water Warrior said. "It is fun to fly up through the sky and then back down again."

When the Princess woke up, the four travelers walked into the cave, followed winding trails through the darkness and finally came to a door overlooking the Dragon's den. It was a massive room piled high with all kinds of treasure including gold, trinkets and jewels. On top of the pile of treasure, the Dragon sat, tossing and turning fitfully.

"Wish me luck," the Princess said.

"Wait," the Water Warrior said. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"We wouldn't blame you if you backed out," the Rock Warrior said.

"No one in the kingdom would be any worse off than they are now," the Cloud Warrior said.

"I have to do it," the Princess said. "The Dragon deserves love, just like me."

As soon as the Dragon spotted the Princess coming towards him, he got up off of his pile of treasure and lumbered down to meet her. He was a massive lizard like creature with a long snaky neck, two massive feet with sharp claws, and two tiny arms with even sharper claws. He had big leathery wings folded behind him, lethal looking spines running down his back, and red eyes.

"Who dares come for my treasure?" the Dragon said. "More fools who wish to be destroyed? The only thing I have in the entire world, the only thing I can call my own, and you want to take it from me?"

"No, you misunderstand," the Princess said. "I have heard of your troubles. You are lonely and angry and you can't sleep at night. You have heard I get kisses on my fingers and night to put me to sleep and you wonder why you don't get to have kisses. That is why I'm here -- to give you the finger kisses you deserve."

"I don't need your charity," the Dragon said. "I don't need your pity. And I won't fall for your tricks. Sure as I allow you to come close to kiss my fingers, your companions will steal my treasure and I will have nothing."

With that, the Dragon opened his massive jaws, displaying his shining sharp teeth and forked tongue, and unleashed a hot blast of fire. The flames bellowed right towards the Princess, but before she could even scream, the Water Warrior threw himself in the way, dousing the flames. The Water Warrior landed in a puddle on the floor, losing his human shape.

"Thank you, Water Warrior," the Princess said.

"Anything to protect you, little girl," the Water Warrior said. "Only now I fear I'm evaporating away."

And with that, the Water Warrior was no more.

"No matter," the Dragon said, swiping towards the Princess with his massive claws. The Rock Warrior jumped into action, blocking the mighty blow and protecting the princess.

"Thank you, Rock Warrior," the Princess said as the Dragon reeled from the surprise interference.

"You're welcome, little girl," the Rock Warrior said. "But I can feel myself crumbling from the attack."

And with that, the Rock Warrior broke into several pieces, falling to the floor dead.

"Now," the Dragon said, "I will grab you up in my clutches and fly you into the sky where I will drop you from a great height."

He grabbed the Princess and flew high into the air, flapping his mighty wings and laughing maniacally.

"I like to watch you puny people fall," the Dragon said, dropping the Princess.

Before she hit the ground, the Princess landed on the Cloud Warrior, who had formed himself into a nice cushion so he could lower her to the ground gently and safely.

"Thank you, Cloud Warrior," the Princess said.

"Don't thank me yet," the Cloud Warrior said. "All might be lost. The Water Warrior and the Rock Warrior are both gone. You are still vulnerable. The Dragon won't listen to reason. Look, he's about to go on another rampage. I must summon all of my power to knock him out of the sky."

"Don't hurt him!" the Princess screamed as the Cloud Warrior transformed himself into a tornado and blasted across the sky. He rammed into the Dragon, knocking him out of the air. The Dragon crashed on his pile of treasure and rolled to the cave floor, stunned. The Princess looked up in the sky but could find no sign of the Cloud Warrior.

The Princess looked around her. The Dragon was laying on the ground, writhing in agony. There was a wet stain on the cave floor where the Water Warrior had perished. A pile of rocks was all that was left of the Rock Warrior. The air was still as the Cloud Warrior seemed to have been vanquished as well.

The Princess sat on a rock at the mouth of the cave and looked out over the kingdom as the sun set. She could see the castle, far, far away. She thought about her father, the King, and how he was probably pacing around the Castle grounds, worried about her. And, he had been right. Although it had been a great adventure, the Dragon was still not happy, and her new friends were gone forever. The Princess started to cry.

The Dragon heard her crying and sat up to look at her.

"Don't cry, little girl," he said. "Look, you've vanquished me. That means you get to have my treasure. It's all I have, but those are the rules. Anyone who vanquishes me gets to have my treasure."

"I don't want your treasure," the Princess said through her sobs.

"Surely you want my gold and jewels and trinkets. Who wouldn't?" the Dragon said.

"I don't want any of it," the Princess said, tears dropping from her eyes.

"Then why would you come all the way up here?" the Dragon asked.

"I already told you," the Princess said. "All I wanted to do was give you some kisses on your fingers. I thought it would put you to sleep, and that would make you happy, and you'd stop attacking everyone in the kingdom."

The Dragon realized his terrible mistake.

"You mean, you were telling the truth?" the Dragon asked. "But why would you want to kiss my fingers? I'm a dragon!"

"Because," the Princess said. "It's not fair that I have a daddy to kiss my fingers at night and you don't have anyone to kiss yours. I wanted to help you."

The Dragon didn't know what to do. It had never occurred to him that someone might want to help him. Then he remembered something.

"You're also entitled to a wish!" the Dragon said. "If you don't want the treasure, I can grant you a wish."

"I don't want the treasure," the Princess said. "And I don't want a wish. I just want my friends back. I was foolish to lead them into danger."

"Ah, but you see, you just made a wish," the Dragon said. "Whether you wanted to or not. And, I hereby grant it."

With that, the Dragon blinked his red eyes, and with a flash of light the Water Warrior, Rock Warrior and Cloud Warrior suddenly stood before the Princess unharmed.

"You're alive!" she said running to them. They all hugged.

"Ah, it must be nice to have friends," the Dragon said, watching them.

"Thank you, Dragon!" the Princess said. She broke free from the hug and ran straight for the Dragon without hesitation. She wrapped her arms around one of his giant fingers and gave it a big kiss.

"You don't think you could kiss my other fingers, could you?" the Dragon asked.

"Of course I will!" the Princess said, and she kissed each one.

"It feels so nice to be loved!" the Dragon said. And with that, he passed out and took a nap.

"I should rest, too, before I journey all the way home," the Princess said.

While the Princess and the Dragon slept, the three warriors got to talking. The Rock Warrior and the Cloud Warrior filled the Water Warrior in on what happened after he evaporated.

"Good job, guys," the Water Warrior said. "We all made good on our vows, no matter the cost."

"And now, I make a new vow," the Rock Warrior said. "That all Rock Warriors, Cloud Warriors and Water Warriors should be friends, just like the three of us are."

"I second that vow," the Cloud Warrior said.

"Here, here," the Water Warrior agreed.

When the Princess and the Dragon awoke, the Dragon said, "Now, little girl. You have to get home, and I will fly you there. Climb on my back and hold onto one of my plates, and I will take you back to the land of men of meat and bones."

"Thank you," the Princess said. "But first, I must eat breakfast. I have a little bread and cheese and milk left. None of these guys eat. I don't suppose you want any, Dragon?"

"Why, yes I do, thank you," the Dragon said. And they both sat down and had a nice little picnic.

When they were full, the Princess climbed on the Dragon.

"I guess this is goodbye," the Water Warrior said.

"Nonsense," the Princess said. "My father will want to meet the three warriors who kept me safe on this adventure and saved my life multiple times. Climb aboard!"

"Yes," the Dragon said. "And I will fly each of you home later."

So, the Warriors climbed on board, and the four travelers rode on the Dragon's back as he flew through the clouds, down the mountain, across the lake and right over the castle wall, where he landed in the courtyard. Several of the King's warriors raised their spears and bows and arrows and approached the Dragon carefully.

"What is the meaning of this?" the King asked, coming out of the castle in his suit of royal armor, brandishing his family's sword.

"Don't attack!" the Princess cried out, climbing down from the Dragon. "He's my friend. For you see, I have kissed his fingers and he is no longer lonely or angry."

"My little girl!" the King cried in delight, dropping his sword and running to hug the Princess. "I thought I had lost you forever."

"No, father," the Princess said. "These three warriors protected me."

She pointed to the Water Warrior, the Rock Warrior and the Cloud Warrior who each dismounted the dragon and bowed humbly before the king.

"She's a princess?" the Cloud Warrior asked the other two.

"Why didn't you tell us?" the Rock Warrior asked the Water Warrior.

"I didn't know she was a princess!" the Water Warrior said.

"Rock, Water and Cloud -- working together to help my daughter, a little girl of the flesh. And together, all of you have spared the kingdom from the evil temper of this Dragon," the King said.

"And I promise to be good from now on," the Dragon said.

"Amazing," the King said. "From henceforth I hereby appoint you three warriors ambassadors between the land of men and your respective tribes.

And so, the three warriors returned to their homes, where they were hailed as heroes and looked upon as leaders in a new era of peace. The Dragon shared all of his riches with the people of the land and left his den to live in the castle courtyard. The King continued to kiss the Princess' fingers each night before she went to sleep, but not until after she had made sure to kiss the Dragon's fingers first.

The End

Indiana Jones meets Atticus Finch

I was asked to give a speech for my dad's surprise retirement party, so I wrote some stuff down and gave the speech last night. Here it is:

When I was a kid I used to imagine my dad had a little bit of Indiana Jones in him. I guess that wouldn't be the first name that springs to mind when most people think of my mild-mannered, even-tempered dad.

But, Indiana Jones was a college professor, just like Dad. They both taught students and kept office hours. They both went on journeys to exotic lands, brought back what seemed to me to be rare antiquities, possessed knowledge concerning foreign cultures and ancient religions, and I wouldn't have been surprised if the Feds showed up one day to consult my dad about the location of the Ark of the Covenant. It was easy to imagine Dad teaching class one minute, and then sneaking out of his office window the next to seek adventure in Israel, Russia or Africa.

There were other childhood benefits to having a college professor for a dad. Living right near campus was like having the best backyard ever. There was a big athletic center, a great library and even an endless supply of top shelf babysitters.

But the most important benefits were less tangible. Growing up influenced by a man who embraced the pursuit of knowledge and intellectual curiosity has influenced my own approach to the world in more ways than I could even begin to describe.

Dad is open to new ideas, new ways of thinking and a variety of points of view. He's on an endless quest to learn, and he's open to being taught -- an approach to life I can only hope to emulate.

Like Dad, if I find a subject that sparks my interest, I read everything I can get my hands on and learn as much as I can about it. Like Dad, I find inspiration in writers, artists and thinkers who came before me and learn as much as I can about them. Still, the important thing is not what I've learned but how I've learned it. And that's what my dad taught me -- how to learn. In his writing and speaking, Dad has also taught me how to digest that knowledge, develop a unique point of view on it, and then present it back to the world as something new.

Thanks to his job, Dad has taken many trips around the world and I've been able to go along with him to places like England and Italy. But it was during a trip to Louisville, Kentucky that I realized how much Dad and I had in common when we both made pilgrimages. Dad's pilgrimage was to the monastery at Gethsemani where he was able to visit the home of one of his biggest heroes, influences and inspirations, Thomas Merton. We walked through the open fields until we came to Merton's ioslated hermitage, where he did some of his most important writing. As we stood looking at the humble building, I could see by the look on Dad's face how meaningful the place was to him.

My pilgrimage was a detour to New Jersey to visit the convenience store where the R-rated independent film "Clerks" was shot. Kevin Smith, the filmmaker who wrote and directed the low budget comedy, was one of my heroes. We went out to the broken down hole in the wall, and when we got there, it really felt like I was somewhere important.

At the time I thought this trip must have seemed strange to Dad. As I think back on it, I realize he must have understood it. It occurred to me our experiences must have been similar. Granted, Dad's was a spiritual experience influenced by one of the greatest minds for peace and understanding the world has known, and mine was influenced by a cult filmmaker. Still, we were both visiting sites that were unassuming on the surface but important in the lives and work of our heroes. Dad taught me the search for knowledge extends beyond reading and writing, and into the realm of the senses.

As I grew older, my range of literary references grew beyond Indiana Jones and I found another comparison for my dad. This was Atticus Finch from "to Kill a Mockingbird." Like Atticus Finch, my dad has fought for minorities. This fight has ranged from important issues to minor ones. When I was a kid and Dad was watching sports, every time I asked who he was rooting for the answer was always the same: "The underdogs."

But, more seriously, Dad has always used his job as a platform to continue the pursuit of these important causes, mostly involving civil rights. His heroes and intellectual inspirations are men who fought for these causes -- people like Howard Thurman, Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Thomas Merton. These men used their spirituality and intellect for the good of the world, not for themselves -- just like Dad.

In "To Kill a Mockingbird" Atticus Finch says, "You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view, until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it." That quote gets to the heart of one of Dad's most passionate pursuits -- the search for interfaith communication and understanding. Dad has taught me that it is important to look at things from all angles. His faith has led him not to exclude all others, safe in the knowledge that he's "right" but instead to become open and accepting, safe in the knowledge that peace and love is right.

There's another quote that reminds me of Dad. This one is about Atticus Finch, spoken by one of his neighbors. She said, "Atticus Finch is the same in his house as he is on the public streets." That quote puts into words what I have always admired about Dad but was never eloquent enough to articulate myself. I never had the Dad who said, "Do what I say, not what I do," because when it comes to my dad, "saying" and "doing" are the same thing. I can always trust Dad and believe in him because I know the morals he believes in and the faith he holds dear come from his very inner core. I've had a front row seat to see that this is not a sanctimonious persona he puts on when he speaks in front of a class or a congregation or a group of colleagues. This is simply who he is. He has influenced others by being true to himself, and being the best self he can be.

Part of Dad's mission in life has been to spread the word, in both spiritual and intellectual pursuits, and perhaps, most importantly, when spirituality and intellect cross paths and become one. Thanks to Dad, at least 36 years' worth of students, colleagues, congregations, and peers have changed for the better, and I'm as proud to be among them as I am to be his son.

Bring back the Bull Moose Party

I was thinking about the dumb Tea Party today and how they take their name, appropriately or not, from a historical protest. I understand where the name comes from, but it's interesting how it kind of stands at odds with the way these types often want Republicans and conservatives to appear macho -- that's the usual thing, right? Conservatives are manly and liberals are pussies? But then you name your supposed grassroots movement after an effeminate game little girls play with stuffed animals?

Anyway, as I was thinking about this today it occurred to me that maybe liberals and/or Democrats need some kind of pretend grassroots movement. It seems to me if the conservatives want a girly name for their party, the supposedly pussy liberals should choose a manly name.

And that's when I remembered -- the Bull Moose Party.

One of the few things I remember from my AP History Class is how bad ass Teddy Roosevelt was. He had a sweet 'stache, a monocle, a giant personality, went around boasting about how awesome he was all the time. He was a real character. When he split with the Republican party, he formed the Progressive party. When his enemies shot him in the chest the day of his campaign speech and he STILL showed up to give the speech, he responded, "I'm as fit as a Bull Moose!" And the Progressive Party became known as the Bull Moose Party.

Unlike the Tea Party, the Bull Moose Party was an actual political party. They were into some cool stuff -- national health service, social insurance, women's rights, farm relief -- they wanted to get rid of the influence of corrupt business on corrupt politicians, etc. They were also into some slightly more complicated stuff like direct elections -- no telling how that kind of stuff would have panned out.

In any case, it's time to bring the Bull Moose Party back, and in doing so I need a good leader to spearhead the effort. I nominate Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson. He's the perfect candidate. Here's why:

1) He's simultaneously black and not black

2) He used to wrestle, so white trash loves him

3) Many chicks think he's hot

4) Most dudes think he's awesome

5) He's charismatic

6) I don't think I've ever met anyone who was anti-Rock

And of course the single most important thing that makes him super electable:

7) He single-handedly killed Osama bin Laden.

Free Parking

Last evening as I left my house around 7:30 to go to the grocery store, I found the note pictured to the left under my wind shield wiper. If you can't quite make it out, it says:

YES!

THE RUMORS ARE TRUE

THE NEIGHBORS ON THIS BLOCK

DO NOT APPRECIATE

YOU USING OUR STREET

AS A PARKING LOT.

ESPECIALLY

WHEN YOU LEAVE YOUR CAR HERE

ALL DAY LONG!

My car had been there about 3 and a half hours at this point, not all day. When I got home from work, there was less street parking available than usual, so I parked on the street behind my building instead of the street in front of it.

When I got back from the grocery store, there was plenty of parking available on in front of the building where I normally park, so I parked there. Not because I give a fuck about assholes who sit in their houses with driveways and garages and passive aggressively place notes on windshields. Just because it's much more convenient for me to park in front of my own building when I can. I mean, when I park behind it, it's not for fun. Though, now I guess I'll get a little vengeful satisfaction out of the times I do.

I've lived in this neighborhood for maybe 2 and a half years now and this is my first note. I'd say I park behind the building maybe 1 out of 10 times I park, simply depending on whether or not all the best spots are already taken. I don't have a parking lot, or driveway, or garage (unlike everyone who lives on the block in question) so short of circling the block all night until it's time to go to work again in the morning, I don't have much choice. I guess I could stop owning a car, but I like my car.

Granted, there is construction in the area, so sometimes construction workers park their trucks and then walk to work. Also, I live near a transit center, so some people might park in the area and ride the train downtown for work. I guess this invasion of commuters could be annoying to residents of the neighborhood, but it should be annoying to guys like me who have to park on the street. I simply can't understand why a guy who lives in a house, with a driveway and a garage, and street parking, would be annoyed. The commuters take up my spots. Not his. And they don't bug me, because they show up when I'm leaving for work, and leave when I get back. It's like a delicate ecosystem where the people who live here leave during the day and we get replaced by the people who work here until we get home at night. It's called sharing.

Look: this dude should be glad he lives in a place where people want to park. That's the give and take of living in a happening place. If you want to live somewhere worth living, you're gonna have to put up with other people. If not, you can move to the sticks and enjoy yourself in the middle of fucking nowhere where there's plenty of parking and nothing is ever open. You know where it's really hard to find street parking? MANHATTAN.

The note did make me curious though. I mean I'm not super well versed when it comes to parking laws, so maybe I was doing something wrong. There are no signs in the area, but who knows what the default rules are. If I was being an asshole, I wanted to knock it off. If I wasn't, I wanted to prove myself right, because I love being right, especially when it means someone else is being an asshole. So I looked up the laws.

Turns out I'm totally within my rights. If there are no signs or meters around you're not supposed to leave your car on the street in a residential area for more than 24 hours. Otherwise you're totally fine. Since I drive my car every day, it's never parked in one place for more than 24 hours. Usually when I leave town for a few days I leave my car at work. I think I've left it in front of the building for more than 24 hours once or twice but apparently the assholes live behind the building, not in front of it.

There are certain zones in the city where people have to apply for parking passes, providing the city with proof that they live in those areas. If this guy wants to be such a dick, he could apply for our neighborhood to be transformed into one of those zones. Only it still wouldn't solve his problem, because then I'd just prove I live here and get a pass and still park on his precious street from time to time. I checked the zones online, and my neighborhood isn't any kind of existing zone, so I don't need a pass. The zones are big areas and not street specific, so this guy's notion that I have to live on his street in order to park there is totally fictional, not to mention the fact that for all he knows, I could live there. Hell, I basically do.

I don't want to be one of those guys who starts talking about how he pays his taxes, but I do! I think it's okay to bring up paying taxes in this instance because I feel like the kind of cockface who would put this kind of sign on someone's car is probably one of those people obsessed with taxes. Doesn't part of those taxes go towards streets and sidewalks and parking enforcement? Aren't I partially paying taxes specifically so I can park on the street?

The thing that bugged me the most about the whole thing is I had no way to respond. As I browsed the grocery store, the note fresh on my mind, I tried to think of ways in which I could respond.

1.) I could go door to door and ask each person if they put that note on my car. This would be partially satisfying because I suspect this is the work of one crank and not representative of the entire street, the way the note pretends it is. Most of the people would have no idea what I'm talking about, they'd read the note, they'd agree that only a total ballsack would write something like that, and they'd probably even speculate which bitch on the street did it. Eventually I'd get to whoever was responsible and they'd probably act like they didn't know what I was talking about, all pissing their pants and stuff.

2.) I could just write down everyone's address and send a formal response. But, I thought about what I'd write in the formal response and everything I thought of sounded totally douche baggy. Half my responses were just as passive aggressive as the original note, and the other half were just obscenity laced rants. Still, it would kind of have the same benefit as the option above, which is that all the innocent neighbors who I suspect don't give a shit where anyone parks would be annoyed that someone in their midst would write a note like this. I wouldn't be there to see their reactions, though, and sending an anonymous letter would, again, be just as dumb as the original shithead.

3.) I could do nothing. Frustrating, but eventually I'd forget about the note and I wouldn't be stooping to the level of the child who wrote it in the first place. And by child I mean (probable) senior citizen.

4.) Or I could write about it here. I suddenly remembered I write in a blog and I haven't written in it since February and I hadn't had a good idea to write about recently, so it'd kill several birds with several stones. I could vent, finally post something, and pretend to respond to my enemy, all while avoiding any actual retaliation that my enemy might accidentally get some satisfaction out of.

Loyal readers might remember there was once a little red pickup truck parked outside my apartment building for at least a year. It eventually disappeared, but I was constantly amazed how long it lasted, given the fact that it had several towing warnings placed on it and survived some roadwork that drove all other vehicles away for a few days. It was impressive and I was mildly amused by it.

It's too bad whoever wrote this note is probably never mildly amused by anything like that. I can only speculate, but I assume they haven't been laid in a while and probably don't have much of a sense of humor. Maybe that's not fair, but I guess if you don't want people to think shit like that about you, then you shouldn't put notes on their cars that basically say, "I'm a total asshole."

Cutco salesmen put notes on your car to trick you into working for them. 24 Hour Fitness puts notes on your car to trick you into working out with them. This guy puts notes on your car to trick you into deeply hating him.

And it works.