You know, if anyone read this site and therefore gave a crap about what I had to say, by this point they would either (a) be really pissed or (b) have abandoned me for people who actually spend a little bit of time on their blogging. And be really pissed. I wish I had a good excuse, but then, that's one of the great things about blogging - you're writing for yourself, so you don't have to apologize to anyone for not writing. If you are so fortunate as to reach a point where a dialogue begins with readers interested in what you have to say, I expect the motivation to write becomes greater. At least, I suspect it does. Having no readers (yeah, and it's my own fault), this is all very speculative.

So, what have I been doing with my time? Well, for one thing, reading. A lot. Among the books I've read in recent months are:

* "Double Fold" by Nicholson Baker - a crank's analysis of why librarians are heartless bastards for destroying beautiful books and replacing them with microfilm. Pure lunacy, but with some really interesting bits about 19th century methods of papermaking (one word, people: mummies) and NASA-like science being used to deacidify old books.

* "The Culture Code" by Clotaire Rapaille - a mixture of malarky and genius that shows how companies can improve their chances in a given marketplace by tapping into a culture's subconscious impressions of a product or experience.

* "The Long Tail" by Chris Anderson - a really good book that clearly shows how the future of business - and culture - is in niches and not mass marketing.

* "The Weather Makers" by Tim Flannery - the first book to make global warning intelligible for me and terrifying in more than a bogeyman sort of way.

* "Blink" and "The Tipping Point" by Malcolm Gladwell - too good to sully with my postcard critique. Read them.

* "Will in the World" by Stephen Greenblatt - marvelously entertaining speculative biography of Shakespeare.

* "On Killing" by Dave Grossman - ultimately too repetitive and thus boring. But in the main, a compelling explanation of why people aren't really inclined towards killing each other, and what the U.S. military has done to help them overcome that resistance.

There've been others, but these are the high points. Right now, I'm reading Paul William Roberts' "Homeland", which is a polemic pretending to be a novel, with only minimal efforts at characterization and written in cliches and stock scenes. It's been a grave disappointment considering how much I enjoyed "The Palace of Fears", his previous novel, but I intend to see it through to the end in the hope of some late chapter redemption. Should he falter, there will likely be no Roberts in my future.

Next up: "Crowds and Power" by Elias Canetti. Or else I may tackle the new Pynchon, about which I have heard nothing. Either way, just a little light reading over Xmas.

Addendum to yesterday's post: Jennifer Aniston can't act. Wait, I wrote that already. Oh, well, . . .

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Halloween, a time for fake scares and very real candy. Today, Brittany is wearing one of Nicole's old dance costumes - a nun, and I am dying to hear how it went over with the Catholic set at her new school. She was very self-conscious this morning, worrying whether any of the other Grade 6s will be dressing up. She's been having trouble adjusting - pre-teen girls are, in plain language, bitches, and Britt has a knack for getting the worst out of people - and I hope at least one of the cool kids shows up in costume. Brittany wants so badly to be cool, but she just doesn't have it in her.

Nicole, on the other hand, is naturally cool, just very relaxed with who she is and where she fits in the world. Her costume is something she calls Spider-Girl, which is an extension of a spiderish outfit given to her by an older friend a few months back. To this she has added some very Nicole-like touches, and though it looks ridiculous, she pulls it off with her usual aplomb. The kid just oozes style.

My new office, which seems to make an event out of everything, is strangely silent so far on the Halloween front. This is in stark contrast to a firm I worked at for over 10 years, where every year someone would get in costume and deliver little treat bags. Having been that person one year, I can tell you that there is little satisfaction in the job, and smelling the sweat of past participants on the costume adds nothing to the experience. Gotta love that candy, though.

While "The Departed" (see yesterday's post) suffered from comparison to the source materials, three older movies that I have finally seen this year suffered when compared to their reputations. Those three are "Alien", "Stripes" and "Office Space". In the case of "Alien", it's hard to be too shocked when you've heard about the most gruesome death (namely, John Hurt's) and know that only one character survives the beast's wrath. Still, it was a beautiful thing to watch, and was satisfying in ways much better than cheap thrills could be - not that I'm against cheap thrills. (Hell, if it weren't for cheap thrills, I think I'd be leading a pretty thrill-free life.) As for "Stripes", this may be blasphemy, but it just wasn't funny. Maybe when I was a teenager I would have found this humorous, but I'm a little past that point now. And I have nothing against dumb comedy - among my favorite movies of the last few years are "Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle" and "Dodgeball", which now that I think about it are both actually pretty clever - okay, maybe I don't like dumb comedies, and "Stripes" is pretty dumb. Still, John Candy, God rest his flabby soul, was his usual brilliant self, and there were a good number of naked women, so I can't say my two hours in front of the telly were totally wasted.

And then there is "Office Space", which I thought was a good movie, clever and subversive and very knowing. It just wasn't the life-changing event I was prepared for. If you don't think cinema can change your life, talk to someone who got laid after his girl spent an evening swooning during "Titanic". I didn't expect to get laid after "Office Space" - although it would have been nice - but I didn't expect the bland nothingness I felt either. It was a good time at the movies - no more, no less. Or maybe it was Jennifer Aniston's fault. The girl can't act, although at least she was still cute then. But it isn't nearly enough to justify her casting. Gary Cole, on the other hand, continues to prove that he can do no wrong.

So, best intentions, and all that stuff. A little movie talk, to get things rolling - again. I saw "The Departed" yesterday, this being a movie I had no intention of seeing until the weight of critical praise forced me into action. You see, one of the best movies I saw in 2005 was - bad dubbing and all - "Infernal Affairs", the Hong Kong precursor of Scorsese's latest wade into the annals of American crime. I so enjoyed "Infernal Affairs", with it's twisting loyalties and belief systems, with Andy Lau's tortured good bad guy and Tony Leung's even more tortured bad good guy. I had never seen either actor before, only learning after the fact that they are Asia's Clooney and Pitt or - aiming just a little higher - Redford and Newman. Great flick.

So, "The Departed". Good movie, but no "Infernal Affairs". It's Scorsese, so it's given more credence than it might otherwise, and Jack Nicholson is great - but he's still Jack, and I think his persona is now so larger than life that even a talent as prodigious as his cannot overcome that. DiCaprio is also very good, Damon less so. I am baffled over why Mark Wahlberg is getting such good play for this - good but not great - while Alec Baldwin shows yet again why he really is one of the cinema's best. Ray Winstone and Vera Farmiga were great, and Kristen Dalton, as Jack's Mrs., is too damned sexy for words.

But that ending. "Infernal Affairs" ends with the hero dead and the non-hero turned good getting away with his past crimes, although they led directly to the death of the hero and a lot of other guys, good and bad. Here, the bad guy ends up just as dead as the good guy, and before that, unlike the Andy Lau character's genuine doubt about his place in the crime world and good-guy leanings, the Damon character turns on Nicholson only for his own self-preservation. This is perhaps a truer glimpse into the criminal mind, but it isn't nearly as satisfying a cinematic experience.

And then, that last shot. As the Damon character lies dead or dying on the floor of his apartment, a rat walks across his window sill, with the golden done of the Massachusetts state capital building in the distance. So, in a movie about rats, our last image is of a rat in front of the place where politicians hang out. Geez, Marty, was a sign too subtle for you? I felt embarrassed for him. I hope this isn't the one that finally lands the Oscar, although based on early returns I suspect it will be. Imagine that clip at an AFI tribute.

Proving, of course, that moviegoers are if nothing creatures of the moment, within weeks of its release, 27,074 voters on IMDb have given "The Departed" an average score of 8.5 out of 10, making it the 55th greatest movie ever made (although the actual list gives a score of 8.3). Better than "The Maltese Falcon" (56), "Reservoir Dogs" (63), "Singin' in the Rain" (67), "Some Like It Hot" (75), and a whole bunch of other great films, like, for example, "Raging Bull" (81). There are certainly flaws with this list (aptly summed up by the fact that "The Shawshank Redemption" is considered the second greatest film ever made by these voters), but it does say something about how quickly this movie has been acclaimed as a work worthy of careful consideration. When, in truth, it lacks the depth and humanity of the original. It's second rate Scorsese, which still makes it better than most everything else out there, but let's stop pretending he's saved the cinema.

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On the subject of great movies, my ten favorite films seen this year, in chronological order by release date, are:

The 39 Steps (1935)
Laura (1944)
Alphaville (1965)
The Conversation (1974)
Ran (1985)
Jackie Brown (1997)
Donnie Darko (2001)
Dirty Pretty Things (2003)
The Rage in Placid Lake (2003)
The House of Flying Daggers (2004)

If the rest of the year goes well, I'll have at least 30 more movies to consider in putting together my year-end top ten. In addition to "The Departed", this weekend I watched "Fun with Dick and Jane" (the remake, hardly worth mentioning) and "Just Like Heaven" (lot's of fun, with a side-splitting line in the last act from the ever reliable Donal Logue).

I know a hiphop concert isn't the place to look for discerning intellects - hell, that's true about any concert involving popular music - but do they have to treat us like idiots? And worse, do we have to prove they are justified in treating us that way?

I'm referring to the Black Eyed Peas show at Molson Amphitheatre this past Saturday night, to which Brittany won tickets through the Toronto Sun. There was never any question that I would be her escort, my wife having no interest in travelling to the lower reaches of Metro without my companionship that late at night. Opening for them were Swollen Members, who I think are okay, and Rihanna, the pronunciation of whose name has been a matter of dispute between Brittany and I for some time and which was resolved in my favour at said concert, about who I have no real opinion. As for BEP, I knew enough of their songs to not look completely out of place.

The problem, it turns out, with Swollen Members is that their songs all sound the same, which when played individually on the radio is fine but not so good back-to-back-to-back in a 30-minute set. Still, for only three guys, one of whom was stuck behind his DJ set, they were entertaining enough, especially Moka Only (I think that's his name). Rihanna, unfortunately, gorgeous though she may be, was not that interesting to watch. There were three costume changes, which at least shook things up a bit, but her backup dancers were horrible. Brittany and I agreed that we saw better dancers every year in our annual dance recital. The crowd, only half of whom were present for Swollen Members, had by then filled up, and they were certainly enthusiastic. But she still sucked. Even worse, it seemed after each song there were endless calls for us to make some noise, and cries about how much she loved Toronto, to which the idiots in the crowd screamed as if the approval of some youngster who they'll all have forgotten about in a year or so was critical to their self-image and the world reputation of their city.

This unfortunately continued with BEP, but it was less annoying because I actually believe adult pop musicians love coming to Canada because of our less restrictive laws on the subject of mind-altering substances. Plus, their show was completely awesome from start to finish, surprising me by how many of their songs I actually already knew, and knew well. Every member of the group and their backup band had showcase moments, and each was up to the task. And though Fergie is the centre of their marketing campaign and thus the most visible Pea, the true workhorse and leader in the charisma department is will.i.am, who had several showcase moments, including an acoustic performance with their guitarist of the Peas/Jack Johnson collaboration (the name of which escapes me right now). They ended the "A" part of show with a powerful version of "Where is the Love?", then encored with "Don't Phunk With My Heart", "My Humps" (Brittany's favourite) and "Let's Get Retarded" (Maxine's least favorite). It was a really fun concert and we had a great father-daughter night.

Of course, I can't leave off without mentioning the people in front of us. First, there was a family of mom, dad and four blonde daughters. Dad clearly had no interest in being there, the two youngest really seemed out of it and mom was trying her best to be cool. Of the remaining daughters, one kept turning to Brittany asking her if she noticed this or that thing - just a nice kid. As for the oldest, who couldn't have been more than 16, her mother bought her a beer at one point. Fun family. Next to them was a woman, about my age, with frizzy hair and about 100 pounds more than she needs to be carrying. She clearly thought she was pretty hot stuff, and who was I to disagree? (Well . . .) Anyway, she knew every song and danced and sang along, which is cute when you're 10 but sort of pathetic at 42 when the band in question is a pop act. With her was a young girl, presumably her daughter, WHO FELL ASLEEP! I don't know how she could do it - this may have been the loudest concert I've ever attended. Pretty impressive feat, actually.

Anyway, I survived, and even Brittany throwing up on the train home couldn't dampen the evening, especially with all our fellow citizens coming to our rescue with barf bags and tissues. As I told her, I'm sure she wasn't the only drunk to throw up on the TTC Saturday night.

With the change in jobs, I have now moved from the University end of the Yonge-University subway line to the Yonge end. It may simply be that this side of the subway is much busier, but the raw number of attractive women is significantly higher than on the other side. I don't think it is simply volume that explains this. More likely, all the glamorous jobs - that is, the type of jobs that attract good looking young women onto a career track - are on this side. All I know is that I sat in the food court yesterday morning for 15 minutes, and in the two minutes that I looked up from my book I spotted roughly one female every 10 seconds who could pose a threat to my marriage vows if she took it upon herself to do so.

Life is good.

Busy day. Day one at my new job, learning a ton of new computer stuff - some familiar (Lotus Notes, Word), some not (umm, well, customized tricks in both Lotus Notes and Word). The phone system is fantastic, and I can even have the "24" ring tone. The main thing is that I actually received some training, compared to my previous job, where I was dumped at a desk and set loose. Another half day tomorrow, then off to the races.

The girls started their new school today also. Brittany quickly slipped in with a group of three girls who she calls her friends. Nicole's adjustment has been a bit more traumatic, with one little girl taking her under her wing. We always knew it would be harder for her since she left behind some good friends at her old school, while Brittany's old friends started abandoning her last year for more insular culture- and faith-based socialization. I also registered them at their new dance school, seeing Nicole's old partner in the process. Like Nicole, she lost two upper front teeth over the summer.

Finally, Maxine landed a half-day position at the school where she works, which will really add to our bottom line. Add this to her lunchroom supervisor job, and with any luck she'll be able to cover the cost of the car we plan to buy in the new year - after I finish my G2. Good times ahead.