Chapter 52.8: Skeeter Control

There's a story from the Raleigh News & Observer about an effort to keep mosquitoes from infecting people with diseases like malaria, dengue fever, and other horrible maladies that humans have suffered and died from for millennia. But I can't help wondering if we know whether or not such transfer of contagions somehow help humans evolve also. I don't mean that in the "natural selection" sense that the people who died were fated to die, but more in the "part of God's plan" idea that perhaps humans also receive a benefit from battling the evil in their bloodstream. I don't pretend to have answers, and I've only skimmed the story, but it caught my attention.

Chapter 52.5: Evil Dead, the Musical

My wife and I had an unexpectedly pleasant Off-Broadway theater experience recently -- Evil Dead, the Musical.

Better than the films (which isn't saying much), the play is actually a mixture of all three Evil Dead movies (well, primarily the first two with references to the third that perhaps only the cognoscenti would get).

Vulgar and campy to be sure, and a little sticky. The songs actually stick with you too, but how can anyone forget lyrics like "What the fuck was that!" in the song "What the F@%$"

Not a musical for children (or perhaps the perfect demograhic is an 11 year old boy) because the language and the occasional dry-humping, etc. is clearly R-rated. In the first act, the sister of the hero is the first person to become possessed by the evilness that has been unleashed by reading chants from the Necronomicon (Book of the Dead). She eventually causes all the rest of the characters to be possessed at one time or another.

There's an enjoyable dance of the dead scene called "Do the Necronomicon" with passing references not only to the Time Warp from Rocky Horror but also Fonzie from Happy Days.

Before the second act, the first three rows of seats (where we were sitting) get baggies with clear plastic ponchos. The fake blood really flows in the climatic killing spree toward the end. It's so bad that you can't help but laugh.

I probably wouldn't pay more than the special $26 ticket for the show, but I recommend getting the splatter zone to enjoy the whole experience.

Chapter 52.4: The Need for Failure

This is a topic that I'll expand upon, but I believe that the emergence of reality television over the past several years is one of the chief reasons that television writing has suffered. Sure there are well written successful new shows, some of which I enjoy immensely such as Medium, Jericho, Heroes, and even Eureka on SciFi. But I wonder if actors are being allowed to fail on middling shows, from which they'll emerge in the future as better actors.

I blame reality television for this because there are only so many slots for new primetime shows, and with Americans gravitating to game shows like Deal or No Deal and glorified audition tapes like American Idol, we're losing out on the season or two of something else where tomorrow's next superstar cut her teeth.

The irony is that Survivor, the granddaddy of 21st century reality television, arose from the ashes of a Screen Actors Guild strike. And the television set hasn't been the same since.

I suspect many TV viewers would disagree with me. Reality television is incredibly popular, and it's even easier for production companies to sell more advertising with product placements (though using a brand of worms for the gross-out shows was a missed selling opportunity, if you ask me). So, in the mode of giving the customers what they want, perhaps it's a case of no harm no foul. But then I watch a show like SciFi Investigates (which sucks) and see reality show alum Rob Mariano and I realize that it's just another example of a no-talent wannabe taking a job away from someone who's paid his or her dues. He's the most qualified "skeptic" they could find? What a crock!

Reality television is taking jobs away from actors and writers.

Good television shows are still being written, but the average shows are being shelved. That's what's missing. We're getting middling reality shows of people we'd not talk to at a bar if they bought us a drink instead of allowing people with talent and dreams to get somewhere with their lives.

Chapter 52.1: Illuminating

The story about the Russian spy who ingested a radioactive isotope is fascinating -- in a John LeCarre novel kind of way. Among my thoughts is whether the reason he was given this material was not only to kill him but also to see where he went after he ingested it. A radioactive marker. I also read that his body will be kept in an airtight container and not allowed to be cremated for 22 years. Some murderers have no heart.