Monday, July 16, 2007

Harry Potter Dies! (And Other Surprises)

The new Harry Potter book will be released upon the world in a few days time and everyone wants to know if Harry Potter, the world's most profitable sorcerer, will survive.

The answer is...he dies. Yes, Harry Potter dies! In his death is the redemption of his parents deaths and the countering of Voldemort's evil.

I'm not a big fan of the J.K. Rowling books. Poorly written, quasi-plagiaristic and way over-hyped, the end of Harry Potter will be a relief. Bookstores and publishers will sorely miss Harry and his money generating spell. I will not.

How did I find out this juicy information? Is J.K Rowlings cell phone used as a listening device to spy on her? No, the governments resources are not so frivolously expended. I merely performed a bit of real magic of my own to secure the answer.

Everyone has a personal frequency. Human thoughts are broadcast as steadily as one of your local radio broadcasters. With your radio you can pick up the signals of the local transmitter, but your mind has the ability, when developed, to receive an infinitely more expanded frequency range.

So with a bit of fine-tuning the reception, ol' J.K. broadcast the ending to me personally. Here it is:

Lord Voldemort: "Harry your parents were trying to protect you from me after I placed part of my soul in you."

Harry: "Noooooooooooooo! I don't believe you!"

Lord Voldemort: "C'mon Harry get real. My name is Voldemort you know what that means don't you? Didn't Dumbledore or any of those Hogwart nitwits force you to learn foreign languages?"

Harry: "Umm. No. We have been learning spells on defending us from the dark arts and playing Quidditch most of the time, actually."

Lord Voldemort: "My mistress, and yours, used a bit of eurotrash hodge-podge when creating us. My name is a Dutch-French hybrid. Volde in Danish means inflict and Mort in French means death. My name means "inflict death" therefore I must kill you."

Harry Potter: "Wow. Your mother must've really suffered during childbirth to give you such a name."

Hermione: "I'm finally here Harry. I've got your back!"

Ron: "And I'm here too Harry. I've got Hermione's back. And oy! What a lovely back it is too!"

Harry: "Leave! If you stay our mistress may be tempted to kill one of you off instead of me or Voldemort here. Oh, and remind me to enroll in a school that actually teaches foreign languages after this is all over!"

Hermione: "I wont leave you in your moment of need Harry! Besides, my elementary school already did teach me some useful things before I got to Hogwart's. One of them was Greek mythology. I'm named after the daughter of Menelaus and Helen. Menelaus was one of the Kings of Sparta and Agamemnon's brother. Helen was abducted by Paris and started the Trojan war. I've already determined that my presence merely acts as a catalyst, and like Helen, I'm the spoils to go to the victor."

Ron: "Uh, was there a famous Ron in Greek mythology?"

Hermione: "Oh you wonderful dolt! You're clueless. You are Harry's best friend. That makes you the betrayer. Your infatuation with me could prove fatal. Did you read any Shakespeare?"

Ron: "Shake-a-who?"

Hermione: "You know, most Muggles your age are smarter than you are! In Mid-Summer's Night Dream , Hermia is promised to Demetrius but she flees with Lysander and Demetrius really loves someone else anyway. Harry doesn't really love me, isn't that right Harry?"

Harry: "Um. Yes. I do not love you Hermione. I like to have you around because you're twice as smart as me and can help me get out of trouble."

Ron: "Bloody brilliant! You mean I have been tip-toeing around all these years waiting for you to make your move on Hermione, and you don't even love her? What an idiot you are! And I am! Heck I almost hope Voldemort 'inflicts death' upon you."

Lord Voldemort: "Stop it! Stop it! Who can think with all this childish prattle and bickering! My Mistress is speaking to me! Her wish is that I should kill..."

Harry: "Aaarggghhh the pain. I see clearly now! My name is Harry Potter. A potter works with clay and molds it into a vessel. My character is merely a vessel made to carry money to my mistress. Once my job is fulfilled I am of no use. I must die!"

Hermione: "I will miss you Harry. Well, not really. You never loved me and are pretty much of an idiot."

Ron: "That leaves you to me then!"

Hermione: "Are you kidding? You're twice as funny looking as Harry here. You're Agamemron."

Ron: "What happened to Agamemnon?"

Hermione: "After the long Trojan war, and adventures with weird creatures, Agamemnon makes it back to his wife who betrays him, loves another, and he gets killed"

Ron: "What! You mean you don't love me? I'm going to die?"

Lord Voldemort: "He catches on quickly doesn't he Hermione dear?"

Harry: "Ooh disgusting! You mean..."

Hermione: "Yes, Voldemort is twice, no...six times the man you are Harry."

Ron: "Like bloody heck I'm letting Rowling kill me off with Harry! I'm getting out of here!"

CRRRRACKKKKK BOOM! Voldemort makes a melodramatic hand gesture and a bolt of lightning strikes Ron and he disappears. We assume he has died, but in the world of record publishing royalties, such an assumption is probably premature.

Harry: "Rooooooooooooooooon! I'll kill you Voldemort! You're just the disgusting byproduct of Rowling's English-borne hatred of perverted Dutchmen and Frenchmen!"

Lord Voldemort: "Oooh do you miss your wittle fwiend wonnie? If I am merely Rowlings manifestation of her pent-up Dutch/French hatred, what are you? What does Rowling think of Englishmen who were raised in perverted youth academies? That's right! She has you living under the stairs. Translate the symbology Harry! Use that tiny little brain of yours!"

Harry: "People walk all over me!"

Lord Voldemort: "Uh huh..."

Harry: "My gosh, you're right. The muggles walk all over me, you walk all over me, Dumbledore walked all over me, Snape walks all over me...I'm a human carpet! Rowling hates Englishmen! My suffering is the suffering she wishes upon all Englishmen!"

Hermione: "Why that J.K. Rowling is an old, insolent, frumpy tart isn't she? We ought to do something about her."

CRRRRACK BOOM! Yet another bolt of lightning strikes Hermione and causes her to disappear.

Lord Voldemort: "Don't look at me, that way Harry. It wasn't me."

Harry: "I know. It was Rowling. She's just left you and me. Only one of us shall survive!"

Lord Voldemort: "I do so love J.K. Rowling! Her books are masterpieces of literature. So well written. Spectacular editing! Awesome alliteration!"

Harry: "Not nearly as much as I love J.K. Rowling's skills! She's a superlative! She's the best author in human history who deserves all the world's praise and money. Children should be forced to read her books in every school, in every language , in every land - and if aliens exist, they should be forced to read it too! She's far more impressive than Jesus - each carefully crafted word is a miracle"

Lord Voldemort: "Harry. No wonder you can talk to snakes. You are just as evil as I am. The part of me that lies in you, even now is trying to kill me by flattering our mistress. You are as spineless as a snake! You do this even after she has killed Ron and Hermione! She really does think so very little of Englishmen, doesn't she?"

Harry: "Aaaaaaaaaargghhhhhh. The pain."

Lord Voldemort: "I haven't done anything yet!"

Harry: "Yes, but I must snivel and complain, to please her! If you want to survive this book, you would do well to fulfill her expectations!"

Lord Voldemort: "But an Englishman cannot befriend a Frenchman or a Dutchman! Your advice dooms you! And I certainly cannot befriend you or anyone else!"

CRRRACK BOOM!
Two bolts of lightning strike Harry and Voldemort simultaneously. Both disappear.

SEVERUS SNAPE: "That's all folks. I tried to warn Harry and the others, but they wouldn't listen to me. It's all about J.K. Rowlings' neuros..."

CRRRACK BOOM!

A big bolt of lightning hits Severus Snape and he disappears like all the rest.

THE END

Friday, July 06, 2007

Stupendous 2 - A sneak peak (aka The Incredibles 2)

Here’s a sneak peak at STUPENDOUS 2 (aka The Incredibles 2 ;-)




PAN DOWN: Overview suburbia (circa 1960) lots of homes with perfectly maintained yards, rose bushes and mid-century cues. We see Mr. & Mrs. Stupendous holding hands and looking at their home and children. Mrs. Stupendous has her toddler's hand as well.

Mr. Stupendous looks at his wife, Stretchgirl with the hint of a smile. They look at their new home, a split-level with Eckbo landscaping in baby blue with soft pink trim, and know that they are finally home. Their children, ForceGirl and Kid Speedy are teasing each the other as they walk up the front walk. They are carrying grocery bags and have returned from a trip to the market. The bags says "Rocket-Market Our prices are so low they're outta this world!"

FORCEGIRL: “I saw your girlfriend the other day…”

KID SPEEDY: “She is NOT my girlfriend!”

FORCEGIRL: “She follows you around school all day and tells everyone she is your girlfriend. And you hang out with her. That makes her your GIRL FRIEND.”

KID SPEEDY: “She is NOT my girlfriend!”

FORCEGIRL: “Whatever. I’ve seen the lovey-dovey notes you’ve written her.”

KID SPEEDY: (indignant) “What…you READ my PRIVATE notes!”

FORCEGIRL: “Being invisible has certain advantages…”

KID SPEEDY: “MOM!”

Stretchgirl walks on over to where her kids are and is in ‘mom mode’. She is holding the hand of her youngest - now a toddler. She simply has to glare at them both and they stop talking and look at her.

STRETCHGIRL: “Aren’t you two ashamed of yourselves? You squabble like a bunch of …a bunch of…”

FORCEGIRL: “adults?”

STRETCHGIRL: “I was thinking more of five year olds. But you two got along better when you were 5.”

KID SPEEDY: “It’s HER fault, she broke the rules and used her powers to SPY on me!”

FORCEGIRL: “You are such a crybaby tattletale!”

STRETCHGIRL: “Is this true? Did you break our covenant?”

FORCEGIRL: “I peeked over his shoulder as he was writing a letter…”

A car pulls up, that looks something like a cross between a Lincoln and a Cadillac convertible, very low with front fenders and fins that resemble a 1957 Dodge. The family stops what they are doing and look over at the car that has pulled in front of their home. Out pops Cold Man in civilian threads.

COLD MAN: “How do you like my NEW CAR is she a BEAUTY or what!”

STRETCHGIRL: (to her children) “We’ll continue this discussion later.”

MR. STUPENDOUS: “It’s beautiful. That’s a sweet ride!”

COLD MAN: “Ever since the government WARMED up to me again…I thought it was time for a new ride. I call it the COOL-MOBILE!”

KID SPEEDY: “Awesome! Can we go for a ride!”

COLD MAN: “Sure - if it’s all right with your folks?”

MR. STUPENDOUS: “I think we all want to take a spin. It looks like you got space for everyone.”

COLD MAN: “I do now that you’ve lost those extra pounds…”

MR. STUPENDOUS: “Ooh that was COLD!”

COLD MAN: “Don’t I know it!”

Stretchgirl laughs and Cold Man presses his tie clip (which is really a remote controller for the vehicle) and the two long doors pop open and the top goes down. The kids pile in the back and acres of chrome adorn the dash and are dotted liberally through the interior. A classic-style red telephone handset fits into the dash and one sees that there are little placards which identify certain special controls. Cold Man starts the engine by pushing a button and two small flames emerge from chrome outlets near the back of the car and the engine has a throaty roar as Cold Man accelerates away from the curb.

The wind blows through ForceGirl’s jet black hair.

FORCEGIRL: “Wheeeee!”

MR. STUPENDOUS: “So how much did this baby set you back?”

COLD MAN: “Enough. But that was cheap next to what it cost to have MARRIS customize it.”

MR. STUPENDOUS: “ MARRIS is back and customizing vehicles? I thought he retired for good over a decade ago?”

COLD MAN: “His services are in demand again. Lots of folks with…er…special needs…want a MARRIS custom. Check this out.”

Cold Man depresses a button and pulls a T-lever. A police band radio appears from behind the normal radio. The voices of a police dispatcher can be heard.

DISPATCHER: “We have a 211S on 235 Grand near main all units please respond Code 2”

KID SPEEDY: “Wow! A silent alarm and…”

FORCEGIRL: “Officers urged to approach without lights or siren.”

MR. STUPENDOUS: “When did you kids learn police codes?”

FORCEGIRL: “Just a hobby…”

KID SPEEDY: “Yeah…it’s better than - blech! - talk radio.”




That’s my beginning to a new Stupendous flick (aka INCREDIBLES 2) My Japanese syndicate and their team of lawyers say I shouldn’t post any more before signing a contract. So if Brad Bird or Pixar get on the horn, and we ink a deal, the world can have a STUPENDOUS 2, sooner than later. ;-)

Thursday, July 05, 2007

Living the Good Life



The H2 Limo pulls up to the curb. It's 117 degrees in the shade and I can hear the Hummer's dual AC compressors loud hum, working overtime to try and keep the interior cool. The 22" chrome wheels glint in the bright desert sun and I climb in. The floor is shallow and not as deep as your average Cadillac Escalade limousine, but then again armored Hummers were never really designed by engineers to be turned into limousines.

The driver is ex-Special Forces and looks vaguely familiar. The President doesn't like using the Secret Service drivers for such errands and often qualified, resourceful one-man-armies take their place in situ. I try and remember those with whom I've worked and seldom forget a face. Then it comes back to me - Pakistan in '96. The failed attempt to abscond with Pakistan's nuclear arsenal and machinery - perhaps the most humiliating special forces resume item one can have next to Carter's ill-fated hostage rescue attempt in '79. They knew we were coming because the Clinton White House sent them telegrams in advance. Lost a good number of talented folks that day.

"So this is where the Pakistan veterans wind up!" I say with a smile.


"Yeah. A little slice of hell on Earth. Is that why you are stationed out here?"

"No, I love the heat. Flirting with sunstroke and repeated heat exhaustion are things that make this assignment so fulfilling. Besides, I'm sitting in the back - and you're driving."

"Good point. Driving this behemoth isn't the worst assignment in the world though."

And I know he's correct. He's still where the action is - on the periphery of the circle of power that determines how the world is run. And today if he doesn't get me to the meeting on time, the world will be impacted adversely. I like to drive myself whenever possible, but I know the vehicle is in skilled hands.

Usually these off-the-record meetings are held in hotels or private homes with no ostentatious trappings, but this one involves foreign dignitaries and so all present must arrive in attire and vehicles that uphold the precious image of dignity and prosperity the United States possesses and wields so productively.

After leaving the roads behind for twenty minutes, I see why the H2 was called into duty and why a qualified military type is at the wheel.

This meeting is to be held, literally, in the middle of nowhere. These are places man may never set foot in. The last visitors were overheated conquistadors looking for the famed City of Cibola, one of the legendary cities of gold which lured greedy men to their deaths in the heat. 122 degrees can be beautiful in a rugged sort of way.



Arriving in a H2 limo is like arriving in a parade float. One loses the most powerful tool in the world - anonymity - and the ability to blend into an environment without drawing attention to oneself - and by doing so placing oneself in the crosshairs. Of course out in the middle of nowhere any vehicle becomes a parade float so it really makes no difference.

The location is one which is not in any known US or foreign spy satellites tracking loop. Cell phones are useless in the middle of nowhere. Communications are by scrambled mil-sat rigs, like this limo is equipped with.

Finally we arrive. I see Cheney standing next to his limousine transport with the door open, another H2 in a desert sand color, probably trying to soak up some cold air, and some middle eastern gentlemen standing beside him are gesturing wildly with their arms as though they are unhappy. Cheney's Secret Service escorts are nowhere to be seen, only his driver stands nearby, probably another carefully chosen one-man-army type. Something that looks like a derivative of a Mercedes Geländewagen is parked near Cheney's limo. Two more distinguished looking middle eastern gentlemen wearing thawbs and ghutras stand nearby.

What transpires in the next two hours may decide the 2008 Presidential election and will likely also impact the economy.

I'm putting my laptop down to go and join them. It's far hotter than hell and I certainly hope folks appreciate the price one has to pay for living the good life.

Oh, and if I get the chance, I'll do my best to try and bring gas prices down a bit for the next two years.

Wish me luck. ;-)