It’s been too long folks. A lot has happened since you’ve had the pleasure of my company. I quit my previous job, packed my bags, and went on a delightful little trip around Europe and also spent a couple of weeks in Turkey visiting relatives I hadn’t seen in years. There will be plenty of photos to follow once I have them all uploaded. You will also have noticed I’ve decided to finally change the blog’s appearance after a year and a half of the old two pane set up. I thought it was time for a change, hope you like it.
Could he have done better? Maybe. Can he still do better in a couple of years? Definitely. Milan were supposedly interested in Tuncay, but would Tuncay see any action with Kaka playing in his same position? Probably not. He’d be another benchwarmer like once-Milanese Hakan Sukur. Tuncay will still be earning a crap load of money. Apparently, he will now earn over 4 million US dollars a year (for four years) in England. Fener’s best offer was about 2.5 million US dollars a year (wages are never guaranteed in Turkey!). Good for him. Even though I support Besiktas myself, I realize that Tuncay is hands down the best player Turkey has ever seen since Sergen Yalcin. Here is a clip of some of Tuncay’s goals in Europe:
As Tony walks into the diner, he stops and scopes the area. Notice that it immediately cuts to him sitting in the booth, and also notice that he isn’t even wearing the same shirt he originally came into the diner with! That was a dead giveaway: what happens from then on out is his warped mind imagining how a possible hit on him and his family could occur if it were to happen that day, and in that diner.
I don’t have to tell you that the next three or four minutes of the show (that don’t really happen) are obviously quite tense. As Tony imagines all the shady people walking into the diner, and considers all the possible hitmen who could be surrounding him at that moment, he starts to panic, his heart beats faster and his palms start to sweat…much like the millions of viewers who were watching the Sopranos that night. David Chase basically plucked us out of our homes and our comfy sofas and put us in the terror-striken head of Tony Soprano, whose every day (you now find out through this brilliant piece of directing) is filled with fear and uncertainty.
As Meadow parks her car and walks inside the diner to join her dysfunctional family, Tony looks up and indeed does comes face to face with his killer…who is positioned between himself and Meadow. He reaches for his gun (probably), but is too late.
Tony’s reason for including his family in this fantasy is because of the simple fact that he himself watched his own father die in front of his eyes, that too under similar circumstances. He imagined A.J. going through the same horrific experience (a chill runs down my spine everytime I imagine Tony dead…it just can’t happen!).
The second the screen turned black, two things happened. One, Tony was shot in his imagination. Obviously. And two, in reality, Tony had a panic attack and passed out just as the words “Don’t stop” were playing over the jukebox. David Chase, being the genius that he is, brought the series in a full circle; remember scene one, episode one, season one, when Tony met his shrink for the first time to discuss his panic attack?
This epiphany came to me today as I was drinking my Starbucks green tea, which is my new obsession. I can’t get enough of it. Apparently, it’s good for your heart and also your brain…and this proves that it works! The online forums are overflowing with different theories about what truly happened in the final episode, scpeifically, the final scene. These theories have ranged from the cheesy (the audience was whacked), to the obvious (Tony was whacked) to the boring (nothing happened). Well let me tell you that one thing is for certain, ‘nothing’ didn’t happen. I don’t want to sound cocky or anything, but three years from now, David Chase will reveal this to be his true intention for the episode.
“WTF”…I don’t believe there was ever a more appropriate occasion for using the expression to describe the eeriness of a situation. Imagine walking (or rather rolling) into the surgery room, trying to think good thoughts to get you through the next couple of hours or so, and suddenly your self-soothing meditation is cut short with the gasping of professional surgeons. What’s that? You look down to find yourself bleeding dark green blood…which I learned, from this article, is exactly what flows through Mr. Spock’s veins.
Full article here…
The patient had been taking large doses of sumatriptan – 200 milligrams a day.
This had caused a rare condition called sulfhaemoglobinaemia, where sulphur is incorporated into the oxygen-carrying compound haemoglobin in red blood cells.
According to the science fantasy television series Star Trek, Mr Spock had green blood because the oxygen-carrying agent in Vulcan blood includes copper, rather than iron, as is the case in humans.
Mr Spock had a human mother, and Vulcan father, from whom he inherited his inability to make sense of human emotion, as well as his green blood.
Fear Factor used to be one of my favorite shows. In the one philosophy class I took a few years ago, the professor described FF as “hands down, the best show ever”, adding that no other show did a better job in illustrating thousands of years of outright decay brought upon human society by money. A couple of shows have come close to FF in their ability to highlight the dark side of human beings (watching husbands abandon their wives in times of danger on ‘Scare Tactics’, or finding out that we are, in general, not really that much smarter than a fifth grader) but no show will ever match the human filth that’s aired on Fear Factor.
Now having said that…
All of the characters you see on Fear Factor are there for one reason, and one reason only. The dough. The bread. The jack, if you will. I’ve grown accustomed to the desperation that’s crammed into the show, and which makes it what it is. After a certain point, the shock of someone drinking a blended rat simply turns into downright pity.
Then you run into a video the one below, on youtube, where an attractive girl, with no financial incentive whatsoever, eats a praying mantis. Granted, she clearly lost a bet or something and had to do it, but she seemed like she was in familiar territory when she snapped that little creature’s neck in half and chewed it with little sign of revulsion.
It’s fun to think to yourself… how much money would it take for me to eat something like that?
ZiddiBLOG is 5 days away from it’s first birthday. The most popular post has been the Lightning Rod Man. The reason why that surprised me so much is that, not only was it a simple copy-paste of a short story by Herman Melville (how exciting), but because most of its readers were directed there as a result of their ‘AK 47’ Google search. What’s going on there?
What’s not surprising is that ZiddiBLOG has received only a little over 500 visitors per month. In my defense, I wasn’t really trying… really, I wasn’t.
My technorati rank has seen some fluctuations. I started off with the undesirable rank of 1,000,000. As I started getting linked by some kind blogger friends I moved up to 400,000, where I remained stagnant for a few months. As of a couple of minutes ago, I’ve confirmed that I’ve somehow fell back some 600,000 ranks… back to where I started at 1,000,000. It’s a good thing I don’t care anymore…remember, I’m not really trying.
I’ve posted 68 articles this past year (69, if you include this one). That’s 5 per month, which is unacceptable, by any blogger’s standard. I should probably work on that.
Happy birthday to me…
Football isn’t just a game. I would’ve said the same thing had Greece beat Turkey. The excitement that surrounds matchday is unparalleled in a man’s life; the only thing that comes close is probably the birth of your first child, although I wouldn’t know what that feels like, so let’s just assume for now that childbirth is number 1, and matchday number 2. Having said that, I truly hope no pregnant women were watching the game. I couldn’t even blog about the game yesterday because 1) I didn’t have any energy left over 2) I wanted the enormity of the victory to sink in so I could string together a few decent words rather than just say “TURKEY RULES!!!! GREECE SUCKS!!!!” which is unfortunately the most civilizeddialogue going on right now in forums and other general areas where Turks and Greeks seem to converge. But I think that sort of childish behavior is relegated to the online world; there were no fights when and where I watched it, in fact, the Greeks even congratulated the Turks on what they thought was our best performance ever. Check out the highlights below (I couldn’t find one with English commentary), and I shall continue…
If Turkey keeps up this performance everysingle game, not only will we top this group easily, we will be the first to qualify for Euro ’08, and will be serious contenders.
If the Turkish players are still in seventh heaven while the Norwegians are on the pitch Wednesday this week, then we will lose unnecessary points and make this victory against Greece worth nothing. I have tremendous faith in Fatih Terim’s (I’ve heard American professors call Turkish students named Fatih ‘Faith’) ability to snap players back to reality.
UEFA should evaluate the Greek fans’ behavior; everything but the kitchen sink was thrown on the poor Turkish players. Also, from what I heard, after the game the Greeks fought among themselves too, which is a very Turkish thing to do; I guess we’re more similar than we thought.
TURKS RULE!!! GREEKS SUCK!!!