A New "Thing"

I'm a big fan of the 1982 remake of "The Thing." It is one of my all-time favorite movies. (The original "Thing" was actually called "The Thing from Another World," from 1951.) When I heard that "The Thing" was going to be remade, again, in 2011, I was pretty stoked. I figured that special effects had come pretty far in 30 years and that a fresher, more sophisticated look might be a nice touch.

I missed catching the new remake in the theaters last year, but rented it on DVD a few days ago. It was good. It stayed true to the aesthetic and spirit of its progenitor, but I'll still give the nod to John Carpenter's '82 version as the one I prefer.


The interesting thing is this remake towed the line between being a prequel and a remake. I wonder if it would have been better if they just committed to one or the other rather than the hybrid they actually made.

It's a remake because they kept the title the same, and they kept specific scenes and elements of the '82 version that long time fans would recognize. But it's a prequel because the overarching story is slightly different. It's the story that directly sets up and leads into the '82 version. In fact, they sewed together the two plots quite nicely.

Here's how the two break down...
2011 version: In the early 1980s, a Norwegian research team in Antarctica accidentally discovers a buried alien spacecraft and the remains of one of its passengers under the ice and snow. They bring the "Thing" back to their base to study it, and it begins to wreak havoc on the isolated group of scientists and staff.

1982 version: Picks up right where the prior story leaves off, with a neighboring American base discovering the distressed and mutilated remains of the Norwegian base and the extraterrestrial wreckage. They, too, become infected by the "Thing." Similarly gross and deformed alien violence ensues.

So if you're new to both movies, the plots are slightly different, but from sequence to sequence, the movies are quite similar. The producers of the 2011 remake closely followed the formula that made the Carpenter's version successful.

If you've seen neither, start with the 2011 "Thing," and follow it with the 1982 version. (The '51 version is interesting and entertaining -- considering its age -- but the two new ones were frankly better, scarier, gorier, and overall cooler interpretations of the original.)

If you don't like horror or sci-fi, this won't be your cup of tea. If you do, I HIGHLY recommend both "Things." The '82 has a better pace and acting and is overall the superior movie. But the 2011 version has the benefit of better effects and higher quality of production. But it's not far behind its predecessor.

These two "Things" remind me of the relationship between "Alien" and its sequel "Aliens." "Alien" is definitely the superior movie, but Hollywood did a decent job with the sequel providing the elements that made the first one good, but offering something a little new.

As for the Thing franchise, check them both out. Here is the trailer for the new one:


By way of comparison, here is the trailer for the 1982 version.

Review: The Lost City of Z

To begin the new year, I was looking for a good read, but something out of left field. By that, I mean a book that was not already on my only-growing-longer "to read" list.

From time to time I check in on the blog called Shelf Actualization, where a handful of guys post about literature. One of the authors wrote a post where he listed out all of the books he read in 2011, and noted the ones he enjoyed most. One of those was "The Lost City of Z" by David Grann.

The title rang a bell, so between that and a thumbs up recommendation, I figured I had as good a candidate to kick off 2012.


"Z" is a non-fiction piece that documents the pursuits of British explorer Percy Fawcett to find the City of Z: the legendary metropolis in the middle of the Amazon. Whether it was called Eldorado, or mystified in some other way, the legends told that there was once a glorious city in the middle of the Amazon filled with riches and strange wonders.

The allure of the uncharted and wild nature of the Amazon jungle brought a line of western explorers, including Theodore Roosevelt, to the jungle to map it, conquer it, and uncover its secrets. But none became more famous for this pursuit than Fawcett. Much of this is because the last time he went in, he never came back out. On this last expedition, he only went in with his son, and his son's friend, and though they kept some rudimentary correspondence with the outside world, at one point that went silent and they were never seen or heard from again. So what happened? Starvation? Murder at the hands of an indigenous tribe? Or did they find Z and were living in opulence in the hidden kingdom?

Percy Fawcett

In many ways, that's where the story begins. What follows is Grann's documentation of all of the explorers who went into the Amazon jungles to find Fawcett himself -- and many of these folks didn't return either. The mystery only grew as more time lapsed and no answers came of the fate of the Fawcett party.

Grann describes his own research, preparation, and eventual trek into the Amazon to find answers to Fawcett's disappearance.

Throughout the book, he describes the dynamic that existed between the various parties of explorers, the indigenous tribes (with various degrees of tolerance for white men), the Brazilian government, and other parties with vested interests in the jungle such as Catholic missionaries and (strangely cruel) rubber barons.

Grann presents excellent research in a page-turning narrative. I really enjoyed this one and think most readers of varying tastes and interests would find "The Lost City of Z" a good read.

Hidden pages (a.k.a. I lost a book)

Sometimes the Fates are finicky folk.

As one of our ways to trend toward fiscal responsibility this year, we decided as a family to try to make better use of the city library system. For the last couple months we've had a steady stream of books and DVDs at our house. Already, there have been some materials that have gone missing here and there, and with a moderate search, turn up again. Each time, I give the child who it belonged to a daddy guilt trip about how you have to keep track of your own stuff and be responsible for it like a "big kid."

With that in mind, I was looking forward to last weekend and the extra day off that Presidents Day would provide to help me take a good chunk out of the latest novel I've been reading. It's called "Starship Troopers." It's the novel that the campy late-'90s movie was based on. It took some trouble to get it. First off, I bypassed the little indie book store that's just down the street from my house and the Barnes & Noble that's barely over a mile away. Instead, I went to the city library--which, in its defense, is also not far from our house.

The library's computer system said that it had "Troopers" on the shelf, but it was not where it was supposed to be. I asked for help from one of the staff who was more than happy to help me. She went right to where I already had looked, and searched the surrounding area as I already had done to no avail. Then she spirited off to some other corner of the library on a hunch... but came back empty handed.

Our nearby "Anderson Foothill" library

She said there were copies at sister locations and would have one brought to this branch and email me when it arrived. That sounded nice, so she put that plan into action. The book arrived two or three days later, and I picked it up on the way home from work the next day.

I started the book and read a chapter here and a chapter there in the usual places around the house: on my bed, in the big, soft chair in my room by the computer, or in our living room on the couch. It has not left the boundary of these three places aside from one time I took it with me to church when I had some downtime on a mid-week responsibility--from which I know I brought the book home and took up reading it again in one of my three places.

Due to a busy weekend, I hadn't opened it in 10 days or so, but when I went to look for it this weekend it was not on my overnight stand. It was not behind it or under it. It was not under the bed. It was not in my briefcase. It was not under or behind the big soft chair, or wedged in its cushions. It was not in the living room in the bookcase or on the fireplace mantle. It was not in either of our cars. It was not in my kids' rooms on a shelf, on the floor, or under a bed; (I had hopes of finding it under my 10-year-old daughter's bed that we affectionately refer to as "The Vortex.") I looked all of these places, and many more. I went back and looked in all of these places again, but this time moving furniture and armed with the powerful family flashlight (used only for emergencies--such as this).

It's lost. My mind has been consumed with it since Saturday. I was mad that I was losing this precious reading time. I was upset at the thought of explaining this loss to the librarian. How does that work? Do you wait until it's overdue to go in and confess? I'm annoyed at the notion of borrowing another copy (which will take some work to get since "someone" has lost their other one). I'm disgusted that I'll have to pay for this book, which was what I was trying to avoid in the first place--but I'll have nothing to show for it. No trophy for my bookcase; nothing to lend for someone else to lose. Often times when something goes missing, I have the faith of an optimist that it will eventually "turn up." This book, I'm convinced, will not.

The insult to all of the injury was when my smart and appreciative-of-irony 7-year-old son said "Dad, you need to keep better track of your things." Where had I heard that before? It crackled and sizzled as it burned my pride to the core, but I didn't want to let him know it.

I said nothing in return.

The family puke bowl

Does every family have one of these:

A designated family puke bowl?

It's the Rodney Dangerfield of bowls in any given dwelling. While some bowls are for featuring beautiful garden salads, and others mix cakes for years of birthdays, and still others nobly endure the daily morning barrage of breakfast cereal -- there on the shelf sits the puke bowl that serves a vital function, but arguably is most beloved when it's not used at all.

It may sounds gross to have one, but isn't it worse to rotate your lineup of otherwise perfectly clean and stigma-less bowls every time a stomach flu invades your home? (And when you have kids in grade school, it's pretty much an annual occurrence.) Bowls that you're likely to use for other foods not yet ingested, masticated, and somewhat digested? Is it nasty to keep it around? Well, yeah... until the day that you need it again, then it comes riding in on a pea-green-with-carrot-chunks steed to save your couches, beds, and carpets from kids who are too scared/stubborn/young to make their way to the toilet during their bout with illness.

The Macfarlane puke bowl is this lovely lavender thing:

A demonstration from our youngest

About two years ago, when a stomach flu was laying waste to the whole family, I rushed to the cupboard to find the most likely candidate to help my second-youngest son through the germ. I immediately grabbed this particular bowl. It's pale purple hue made it seem as if its fate was written in the stars. Our bowl was about to be christened and finally meet out the fullness of its existence. Of course we rinse it and thoroughly sanitize it between "occurrences," but no more will it be filled with popcorn on movie night, Halloween candy, or potato chips from the 4th of July BBQ -- unless it's making a return visit to the light of the living.

How about you? Do you have a consistent chalice of chunder?

Stuff I believe, part V: hell, heaven, afterlife, etc.

Here I go again. Another of my once-in-a-blue-moon religious posts. When stuff is weighing on my mind or heart, I put together a post like this. Partly for catharsis, and on the off chance that you find it interesting. My sentiments are my own and may not always accurately reflect the beliefs or doctrine of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, of which I'm a believing member. But one of the many beauties of the LDS faith is that you can work this stuff out in your mind and heart over time.

Last weekend, there was a tragic ending to a national news story with local ties. In a nutshell, a man named Josh Powell -- the "person of interest" thought to have been responsible for the disappearance of his wife, Susan -- took his own life, and the life of his two little sons by attempting to bludgeon them to death or unconsciousness before setting his house ablaze with all three inside. All three were presumed dead upon arrival of authorities. There are a lot of articles about this as a recent news story. Here is just one of them.

I've followed this story with some interest since its beginning a couple years ago. Not long after the wife's disappearance, it became obvious that to me that Josh was behind it. For the record, Susan's death has never been confirmed, and Josh was never officially charged or convicted with it. But, I'll say that it is my opinion that he was involved and responsible for her disappearance and death.

But I've been experiencing a range of emotions about this whole thing. I have desperately wanted the police to find the "smoking gun" that would put Powell behind bars, his wife's remains to rest, and his sons in safer hands. I support "innocent until proven guilty" as it pertains to our legal system, but his guilt was so obvious to me no matter what the law said, and his recent murder of his sons only sealed my convictions.

Now what?

I've read a lot of comments online from people expressing their anger and sorrow at these events. Sentiments are shared such as "Now he will rot in hell for eternity." Or "I hope he suffers forever with a (noun) shoved up his (censored) in hell for what he did."

That's not the kind of language I think most people throw around on a daily basis. I chalk it up to:
a) Rash and knee-jerk judgements based on the horror of the situation
b) A way for people to express sorrow and anger they're feeling inside

So from that standpoint, I understand. I've definitely had sentiments of my own wherein I want Josh to "get his." How do I really feel about what sort of torment someone like Mr. Powell should be subject to? I probably don't have a complete answer for that, but I want to get a few thoughts down about post-mortal judgement in general...

Within Mormonism there are plenty of references in scripture and other doctrinal resources that talk about the afterlife. If you want a primer, start with the LDS notion of the "Plan of Salvation." That's the basics to "who are we?" "Why are we here?" "Where are we going?" I believe in the church's teachings on this subject, but there is still room to wonder and speculate.

From here on I won't spend the time to document or cite each reference I make to official doctrine, but I'll try to spell out when I'm giving my opinion.

This is a weighty topic, so let me start here: I've been asked before by friends of other faiths if Mormons believe that anyone who is not Mormon will go to hell. Short answer: nope. I think this is one of the greatest and unfortunately unknown pieces of Mormon doctrine. By my estimation and understanding of it, almost no one will "eternally burn in hell." In fact, by many Judeo Christians' own definition of heaven, that's where most folks will end up -- if not something much better.

Yes, I just said that:

According to my understanding of Latter-Day Saint doctrine, virtually everyone, I'll just call it 99.999999% of people you and I know, will go to "heaven." Let's just define heaven loosely as a post-mortal and eternal state of happiness, peace, and joy surrounded by God's love -- exponentially more than you or I can experience or even comprehend here on earth. I know that's very general, but short of notions of harps, clouds, and angels, isn't that generally how most folks would define heaven?

What do you think of this so far? Sound good? Not a bad deal, eh? Who wouldn't sign up for that right now? (Which makes me wonder why so many folks slam their doors in our 19-year old faces when we come a-knockin' on Saturday morning... ha-ha).

So, do Mormons believe in hell?

Well, the short answer is, yes, we believe in hell. But upon closer inspection, we depart from most Judeo Christian notions of it.

In my opinion, we believe in two iterations of hell; one is relatively temporary, and the other is of the eternal sort. I'll address the latter first.

Just above, I referred to 99.9999999% of people not going to hell. Let me address that unfortunate 00.0000001%. In the LDS faith, we do believe that there are those people in this life who have done something so horrible that they have "damned" themselves for eternity. Who are these folks? In a nutshell, these are people who knowingly and completely reject God. That's the simplest way to put it. And by that, I'm not talking about your atheist friend or agnostic buddy; far from that. I'm talking about the rare handful of men or women who have a literal knowledge of God (as in, based on fact, not faith) who then reject God, and precede to denounce his authority, power, and majesty (these are my own words--not scriptural).

That's not going to be the jerk you bump into at the grocery store or post office. It's not even the town rapist, murderer, or molester. It's probably no one you've known or will ever know. It's such a small group, I almost don't acknowledge it, because it ain't you and it ain't me.

So, I'll leave that "eternal damnation" group there. If you want to learn more, in Mormonism, that group is referred to as the "Sons of Perdition."

Now, a closer look at the "temporary" state of hell. To get into this, I have to do a quick explanation of the LDS "Plan of Salvation." Think of it as the Mormon flow chart of where we came from, where we are, and where we could be headed. Put simply, we believe all mankind who ever was, is, or will be, resided with God before this life. Our souls are his literal offspring. Per His plan, we agreed to come live this earthly life, forgetful of our life with Him before, to be tested in a mortal coil, come to know Him, and become more like him through the trials of earthly mortality. When we die, we don't go immediately to judgement. Rather, we go to the Great Waiting Room in the Sky (my terminology) Mormons refer to at the Spirit World. That's where everyone's spirit or soul (which in death has been separated from the mortal body) goes to wait until the Judgement of all souls.

Now, in this interim resting place of the Spirit World, LDS doctrine dictates that there are two realms: Spirit Prison and Paradise. These two states are the closest notion Mormonism shares with the rest of Christianity about heaven and hell. This may be an oversimplification, but if you lived a good life, you'll go to Paradise. If you lived a life of evil, you'll be in Spirit Prison.

I'm going to go off the rails here a bit and give the "gospel according to Alan" regarding these two states. You may ask yourself, "Who goes to which one?" Perhaps more pointedly "Which one will I go to?"

This is how I think this works...

Spirit Prison and Paradise may or may not be physically different places. I think they are more likely states of mind on one hand, and states of progression on the other.

As I alluded to earlier, the final Judgement (with a capitol "J") doesn't happen in the Spirit World. But there is a form of judgment that happens nonetheless. When we die, I think our conscious is re-awakened. The veil put over us in mortality is removed at death. We remember who we are as souls in an eternal context and as such we'll see our mortal life with a new perspective. We'll find peace in the happiness, the good things, the relationships, and the simple lessons learned in mortality. Since none of us are perfect, we'll have reasons to have sorrow for some of our actions, decisions, and courses in this life.

I think a murderer will have more reason to crawl into a corner and tremble compared someone who cheated on a math test in high school. No sin is overlooked by God, but some have more meaningful consequences -- that, I believe, will be plain.

Imagine a murderer having a seemingly endless amount of time to think about his evil act, with no means to distract him from the thought or the sorrow and pain it inflicted on others. Add to that the anticipation of the justice that will be handed out by God for that act. I shudder to think about it. That, my friends, is hell. That is the reality of some folks in the Spirit World.

Thankfully, that is a temporary state. But can you imagine having to deal with that awareness for an hour, a week, or a millennium?

At some point, though, we reach the "official' Judgement. I have no idea how this will go. I've heard speculations from fellow Mormons about who will be there, who will vouch for whom, how we'll be judged, etc. No one really knows aside from the fact that Christ will be our judge.

In my opinion, it will somehow include Christ taking us into his embrace -- no matter who we are. He will help us shed much of the burdens we carry; more than we deserve or could do on our own. He'll lovingly show us how there are some things that we must face up to and account for. He'll also show us that he loves us more than we can comprehend, and that our value as an individual soul and child of God is more than we can think of. All will be made right in Christ's Atonement -- no matter how evil or foul. That's not to say that our unrepentant deeds are just forgotten, but I do think He consumes them -- all of them, 100%; he already has. But do we acknowledge it? At that point, we realize we are completely in His debt and at His mercy. He will judge us fairly based on our actions and the intents of our heart. We will know we are eternally indebted to Him for an eternal inheritance that will be more than we comprehend, but also, strangely, something that we will lovingly and humbly feel like we deserve because he'll bestow is to us out of absolute love.

This includes you. This includes me. This includes Josh Powell, and his wife, and his sons. Christ will have taken on and defeated all sorrow, pain, and death, and we will all be better for it and able to love Him, and each other in the eternities with a peace and charity that none of us can comprehend today. That will be virtually all of us because we are a family -- a big spiritual family -- that will not feel quite complete if one soul is missing.

This is an oversimplification of things. There is MUCH more than this, but it also spells out the good news. The baseline that there is happiness to be had for all of us based on Christ's infinite and eternal sacrifice.

Thanks friends. As I say at the end of each of these type of posts: "Back to our regular programming...."

Review: The Woman In Black

Last night, Anna and I went to see the new movie "The Woman in Black."

If you know me at all, I love scary stuff; movies, stories, images. If it's creepy, I'm in.

The problem with movies these days is if they're any good (at scaring) I've likely already seen them. I've hunted down the best for years and covered most of the fertile ground. If it's a new release, it probably -- and unfortunately -- falls into one of these categories:
1) It's a remake of an original that the studio thinks they can improve on with a bigger budget and better effects, but forgetting that it was the subtlety that made the original great.
2) It's some gruesome slasher torture porn garbage. Seldom my cup of tea.
3) It's a retread of a retread of a retread of a cliche that's been beaten to death decades ago, but some studio wants to capitalize on the idea one... last... time. (Think boogie men, occult/Satanic possessions, cursed summer camps, haunted house, etc.) You can never have too many of those. Oh wait... yes you can.

"Woman in Black" had high potential to fit squarely into category one. Still, it showed promise from the trailer (as many movies do), so it seemed this one might be worth shelling out for.


In a nutshell, it's about a young real estate agent who is asked to wrap up the affairs and sell a property in a rural part of England on the coast where the tide covers the road to the estate for long stretches and causes fog to cover the marsh that surrounds it. The small town near the estate is caught up in a string of tragedies that has taken the life of several children in their community. The townsfolk believe the "Woman in Black," the former resident of the estate, is to blame.

When I heard that "Black" was going to be remade, it caught my attention for a few reasons...

First off, it was going to be remade by the recently resurrected Hammer Films studio. Hammer made dozens of horror films, mostly in the '60s and '70s before eventually fizzling out. They've revived themselves and have started churning out classic horror again.

This remake of the original from 1989 (based on a novel from Susan Hill) would star Daniel Radcliffe of Harry Potter fame. How would he transition from boy hero to adult actor?

From the trailer, it looked like a macabre, moody ghost story set with in a Victorian backdrop. Those are a rare breed these days. Would is be given a classical treatment, or be infused with modern sensibilities?

Well, I can tell you that it was very good. Genuinely creepy. It easily surpassed the first version, which doesn't often happen. It exceeded my expectations.

If you like this sort of thing, it's worth the money to see it in the theater, but if you don't take the time, definitely put it on your list for a Redbox night.

Here's the trailer for the new version:



By way of comparison here's a scene from the old one. From this alone, you can tell the new one stepped it up (and the old one ain't bad, either):

A Youth Movement on the Utes

The rumors started leaking last night: 24-year-old quarterbacks coach Brian Johnson (BJ) would be promoted to offensive coordinator for the University of Utah football.

It was one of those things that was so crazy that it could only be true.

Image taken from the Deseret News

Since the legendary Norm Chow left to take the head job at Hawaii, there has been much rumor and speculation among rabid Ute fans about who would take his job. There were mainly three theories:

1) Promote Aaron Roderick who had already served as OC prior to Chow's arrival. (The team won 10 games that year, but lost to the three good teams they played).

2) Grab someone from the NFL ranks. (The Utes had already begun distancing themselves from the "spread option" offense that brought so much success since Urban Meyer was coach, and started trending toward a "pro style" offense which Norm Chow was tasked with installing).

3) Look outside the Ute program but among the college ranks. (Several names were theorized, and one interview with BYU's former HC Gary Crowton had been confirmed).

I figured there was an 80% chance it would be one of the first two. To me, option one was the safe pick, option two was the more progressive pick.

In my wildest dreams (worst nightmares?) I never imagined head coach Kyle Whittingham would leapfrog Roderick with a younger assistant on staff. Whether BJ was the better man for the job or not, I just thought that conventional wisdom, politics, and protocol dictated that you give the job to the guy with more experience and tenure if you keep the hire in-house.

Now, don't get me wrong: I, like many other Ute fans, have had my eye on BJ and his talent, hard work, and knowledge for the game since he came in as a 17-year old freshman in 2004. The thought that he would someday be a head coach, let alone offensive coordinator, was a bygone notion. Whether he achieved that status at the U of U or not, it was still a matter of "when," not "if." And my personal thought is that he'd get there at a relatively young age. But this is not quite what I had in mind.

On a semi-interesting side note, there is another young guy on staff, Morgan Scalley, who I thought was the heir apparent of the Ute program if there was one already on staff. While still young, he still has about four years experience on BJ as a coaching staff member. Morgan has been in charge of recruiting for a few years now, is a former Ute player, a local kid from Salt Lake, and the son of former Ute football player. He seemed like the natural legacy hire making his way up. Even then, I didn't see that happening for several years. But now, with this promotion, Johnson clearly moves ahead of the class in being prepped for taking the reins as HC some day. The truth is, both guys are still on a path where I could see either take that spot 10-15 years from now. But before, I used to imagine Whittingham retiring, Scalley probably serving as DC by then, getting promoted, and having BJ be his OC (if he didn't have that post already). Now, if things work out for Brian, I see the shoes on the other feet with Morgan serving as Johnson's DC.

But, I'm getting WAY ahead of myself.

There is no guarantee that BJ succeeds. In fact, I hate to be a Debbie Downer, but I think the odds are against him. I'm not saying I don't believe he can do it, but rather the road and its hurdles are probably bigger for him than they would be for more experienced guys coming in.

I see this as a promotion with only polarizing potential. It's either a grand slam, or a spectacular swing-and-a-miss that could significantly set the program back. I'm desperately hoping for the former for Brian's sake and for the sake of my alma mater.

Go Utes!

Happy Rush Day!

Today is 2/1/12, in other words 2112 (the title of one of Rush's epic early albums).

Here's to you Geddy, Alex, and Neil. Thank you for coddling me while grunge was going on all around me in high school.

Happy Rush Day, eh:

Alan's Little Life Maxims #52

The fury and indignity of having your grammar corrected is exponential and inversely related to the joy and sanctimony of correcting someone else.

(Especially when you write and edit for a living.)

Half court oop

Did anyone see this alley-oop pass from Jamaal Tinsley to Jeremy Evans the other night? I've seen my share of oops in my day, but I can't recall one where the pass came from so far back court.

Absolutely sick: