House of Eratosthenes

Prometheus was a Titan who stole fire from the gods and gave it to man. As punishment, the god Zeus chained him to a rock and sent a vulture to attack him and eat his gizzard, or appendix, or liver. Every day. By night, the organ would grow back in again, and in the morning the bird would fly on in at its leisure and snack anew. Prometheus was damned to this daily torment for centuries, until Heracles or Pericles came along, slew the bird and shattered the chains.

Room 203 is the jury selection room in downtown Sacramento. Yours Truly was tapped to sit and wait to be selected…during which time they plied us with the following entertainment.

Tooth Fairy
RV
The Game Plan

…all of which I’ve seen before, all of which have something to do with the patriarch of some family unit figuring out his many assorted problems in life are due entirely to his being a shallow self-absorbed jerk. Which, if it were a movie genre not already pounded and re-pounded into oblivion, like a delicate silk handkerchief placed under a thundering jackhammer for a day and a half, would already not be my favorite…but, such as it is…

Well, I’ve blogged this before. Many times. See, I’m a dude…therefore, I’m sympathetic to dudes…but even if I wasn’t, and wasn’t — if I was some bimbo with all kinds of unresolved daddy- and ex-husband-issues, there is still the matter of money changing hands. Still the matter of creativity being bought & paid for. And I want to see some.

This is the part where the nattering nabobs say “well if you hate those movies so much, why don’t ya walk out, HUH??” And that would be a great point under ordinary circumstances. Not here, though. See, I was required to be there…if the judge calls my name, and I don’t show, he can sign a warrant for my arrest. Yeah, in theory. But still.

I could’ve approached the matronly females behind the bullet proof plexi-glass and asked, can you put on a movie that doesn’t make husbands and fathers look like complete jackasses? But what’s the point. It maybe would’ve made for a good story to tell…but probably not…in the end, I figured hell I’ve got work stacking up back at the office, which by now is where I wish I was — someone might as well get something done today. So I let them work. I’ll probably regret that, but I know it was the right thing to do.

There was a moment when the third movie just got started, where I began to think…you know, if I died this morning and didn’t know it, and my earthly existence was found to be displeasing to the deity at hand and I’d been sentenced to eternal torment, this would be it. Wouldn’t it? Stuffy government building just exuding the distinct aroma of thoughtless bureaucracy, a captive audience before an unending string of uncreative, hateful, acrid, toxic, smack-myself-in-forehead-I’m-such-a-thoughtless-jerk doofus dad movies. That’s what my sentence would be — and what’s going on right now? For just a second or two, it kinda creeped me out.

But at twenty minutes to four, we were dismissed. So, inspired by an offline e-mail from blogger friend Phil, I stopped off WalMart on my way home, picked up The Undefeated, then I barricaded myself in my domicile and cracked open a cold one.

And how was your day?

And how was your day?

Better than yours, obviously and thankfully.
- bpenni | 10/05/2011 @ 08:54

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Prometheus in Room 203Tuesday, October 4th, 2011

Prometheus in Room 203
Tuesday, October 4th, 2011