We love a good pan. The theater critic is supposed to be impartial, impassive, and imperturbable. If the film is stellar, kudos abound. Abyssmal? Then let the guns roar. But in reality, critics are always at their best when they pull out the bloody knives and spatter the linguistic abatoir with every adjectival vilification at their disposal.

Which is why we praise the saints for films like Ghost Ship. Directed by Thirteen Ghosts's Steve Beck and starring Julianna Margulies among other unfortunates, this appalling waste of celluloid gives people like the AP's David Germain a chance to show us how deeply the razor of wit can slice.

Instead of a trip to terror, "Ghost Ship" is a ticket to tedium, a horror movie so devoid of horror that mouths will open wide in yawns, without a scream to be heard.

The real trapped souls are the people stuck watching this turkey. Cue the iceberg, the torpedo, the tidal wave, whatever it takes to send this garbage scow to the bottom quickly.

Velveeta Sex

The Birmingham branch of Kraft foods in Alabama is in big trouble according to a suit filed by workers who allege that a male supervisor was allowed to "grope, proposition and sexually assault" more than a dozen of them. While the EEO commission report dutifully notes the "sexually hostile workplace" and so forth, what's interesting here is that the plaintiffs are all men.

The agency said anecdotal evidence shows most harassment of men is committed by men.

Moore Is Less

We've all been reading about the limitations of silicon to maintain the pace of Moore's Law. The rate of processor speed and power is slowing due to the limitations imposed by electromagnetism. IBM scientists may have achieved a breakthrough recently by developing a molecular circuit.

IBM researchers at its Almaden Research Center in San Jose, California, have built and operated a computer circuit in which individual molecules of carbon monoxide move like toppling dominoes across a flat copper surface.

Interlude: A Matter of Convenience

The rain-slicked streets purred beneath my tires as I pulled into the Stop-N-Go, neon washing over the pavement like a preacher's sermon. The gangly clerk stopped chewing gum long enough to register my entrance and returned to watching the flicker of the flourescent racks overhead. I moved in on the glass cases, scanning for something that wouldn't dye my guts a primary hue and settled on a Yoo-Hoo chocolate drink: The Drifter's Choice.
"Just this," I told her, "Man gets kinda thirsty, chewing up the miles."
She didn't even look at me, processing the transaction mechanically and wishing me gone before she had the cash in hand.
Sometimes you just have to reject this kind of situational role—because tolerating it dehumanizes the two of you. I went for familiarity.
"Bet it's hard to get a drop-stick reading when it's like this," I said, tilting my head toward the wet glass. Gas station people have a long wooden gauge they use to measure the gasoline remaining in the underground tanks. And most people don't know that. Her eyes fix on mine, for the first time.
"Yeah, messes it up."
Now I'm inside. Things are completely different.

6:52:36 PM       

We're back after an overnight trip to Birmingham, Ala., which turned out to be more agreeable than I'd anticipated. The Five Points South district, just a block from our hotel, was delightfully Bohemian and even had a few coffeehouses (if Joe Muggs and Starbucks qualify for the designation). Your loyal guide had a few hours to spare and strolled the area looking for something unusual. This part of the city is rather historical and there were numerous examples of Victorian architecture, cobblestoned streets, and Gothic cathedrals. Following my instincts, I ventured along 20th Avenue with no particular destination and ran across Reed Books, just south of the Medical Center district.

Making my way up a narrow flight of steps, I wasn't sure what to expect and was astonished to discover myself in a bibliophile's paradise. Every square inch of the warren-like store was covered in movie posters, publicity stills, old advertising boards, clocks, Hollywood memorabilia, and of course, books. Books on shelves, books in cupboards, books in stacks, on racks, and piled up everywhere in dessicated drifts. The owner gave me a brief orientation and I began my race against the clock. There wouldn't be time to look at everything, but after checking the prices on several volumes I realized that there were some incredible bargains to be had if only I could ferret them out.

Moving through the mystery/sci fi area I lingered over several of John Marquand's Mr. Moto compendiums and Dashiell Hammett's The Glass Key, all in hardback with dustjackets. There! Harlan Ellison's The Beast That Shouted Love at the Heart of the World (1969) with a jacket in 60's psychedelic script. After scanning literature I wind up in reference and find a copy of George Opdyke's The World's Best Proverbs and Short Quotations (1900), no jacket but in very good condition. With only minutes remaining I'm torn between the philosophy and linguistics shelves—and start bouncing from one to the other. Anyone looking at me would think I'm bananas. There! Henry Fowler's Dictionary of Modern English Usage, 4ed. (1950). This isn't rare per se, but the dust jacket is in good to near-fine quality after 50 years so I take a chance.

Back at Raven HQ I tally up the haul and see how I did. All three are available online as linked above, but would cost over $100 including shipping. My price for the three was $33, and here are some quotes from Opdyke's Proverbs:

The best advice is—don't give any.

He who would save should begin with his mouth.

Hunger is better than a French cook.

God help the sheep when the wolf is judge.

Don't speak of halters in the house of the hanged.

Better to go to bed supperless than rise in debt.

He who quarrels with a drunken man injures one who is absent.

How Things Work Dept.

This section profiles stories that highlight how the world really functions, which is often quite different than how it looks on paper. For instance, an FBI language translator hired during the post 9/11 frenzy is coming forward with a story about how her supervisor told her to work slower. The idea here was to cause a crisis that could only be solved with a larger budget—so Sibel Edmonds was working too efficiently.

"Let the documents pile up so we can show it and say we need more translators and expand the department," FBI translator Sibel Edmonds said a supervisor told her, according to a "60 Minutes" report that airs tomorrow.

Guavaween

Ybor City, which is close to Tampa in Florida, is getting ready for their 20th Annual Guavaween celebration, a sort of Latin-style Halloween festival. They're expecting around 120,000 participants, give or take, and police are very concerned about security this year for obvious reasons. But the Raven is unhappy to see that instead of providing a fun opportunity for people to forget about all the horrific things that have been going on lately, the authorities are going overboard on the safety angle.

Leave anything that looks like a weapon, real or not, at home.

Also, you might want to avoid dressing up as Osama bin Laden.

"Coming as a terrorist probably wouldn't be smart," Tampa police Maj. K.C. Newcomb said. "Most of it is just common sense stuff."

10:54:24 AM