Both movies are relatively entertaining and offer quick getaways from reality, posing interesting scenarios. On the other hand, the corporatization of the movie industry has definitely shown itself in the guise of plots, the first movie being basically a two-hour FedEx commercial and the second, based on an advertising agency whose top clients include Nike, Leggs, and Tampax. That's why seeing Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon last week was such a relief. No brand names, slogans or logos to be seen. A breath of fresh air. Not to mention the movie, in and of itself, kicked ass. Literally.

So much of our popular media leads me to believe that our society demands homoginization and pre-processed-plastic-wrapped entertainment. The commercial invasion of movie theaters is somewhat disheartening because I always used to consider movie-going an upgrade from watching commercial-laden television. Now it seems every movie has become some sort of stage for corporate propaganda.

As long as the masses continue to file into the theaters, this trend will continue to grow. Hopefully the backing for independent and foreign films will also continue to grow. Someday we will see a welcoming of new talent that isn't backed by the newest dot-com. And perhaps that day, big companies will realize that big money may buy our time on television but will never buy our hearts, minds, or desire for originality and creativity.

I was a good boy, however, and skirted the roped area through some steep moguls to meet them at the bottom. By the time I reached the base, a red-vested patrolman was waiting for them as well. I sat a good 500 feet from them while he lectured them on avalanche safety and possible fines along with a night in jail. Not good. Two clips of his wirecutters and their day-passes were revoked.

On our way home, random thoughts went through my head. What if they had caused an avalanche? It wasn't very crowded, but imagine suddenly being pummeled and buried alive, slowly suffocating under the blinding mass. No warning. And, suddenly, the fragility of life was a weight too much to bear.

I looked around for ways to escape the car, should our transportation suddenly become a tumbling, snow-bound death-trap, hurtling over the edge of the mountain highway. Squeezing my fists, I took a deep breath and calmed myself. Why worry about such unlikely tragedies? It occurred to me that I spend so much time worrying about what might happen that I never enjoy the moment, and so I leaned my head against the window and let myself fall asleep. An enjoyable nap. And the bus stayed squarely on the road.

Modern man does not experience himself as a part of nature, but as an outside force destined to dominate and conquer it. He even talks of a battle with nature, forgetting that, if he won the battle, he would find himself on the losing side.

—E.F. Schumacher, Small is Beautiful

You see, I have a really bad habit of cruising. That shouldn't be too unusual for a guy my age. I also happen to have an affinity for porn — again, not very suprising. Put these two together and whenever I'm waiting for a flight at the airport or peddling away at the gym, I subconsciously pick out the two, best looking guys in my direct line of sight and — POOF! (I'm referrring to the sound, not myself) — the locale spontaneously turns into the set of Chi Chi's next shoot. Want to learn how to play?

First, American porn is ridiculously formula so if you're a Yankee lad like myself, this is very easy. Designate strict roles that should not be confused and name your contestants "Top" and "Bottom." That's all there is to it. If you're feeling kinky, throw in some leather, slings, fisting, you name it. Start the clock and watch 'em go. Who said porno didn't have a constructive role in the healthy male psyche?

Seven semesters down, one to go. I can do it. Piece of cake. So why am I so freakin' upset about the direction my life is taking? I guzzle down the rest of the beer, run downstairs and get on the phone. Plans made, I clean myself up — more than I've done all week: shaved, trimmed, exfoliated, showered, deodorized, moisturized, dressed. I sit and wait to be taken away.

Pooh was sitting in his house one day, counting his pots of honey, when there came a knock on the door.

"Fourteen," said Pooh. "Come in. Fourteen. Or was it fifteen? Bother. That's muddled me."

"Hallo, Pooh," said Rabbit. "Hallo, Rabbit. Fourteen, wasn't it?" "What was?" "My pots of honey what I was counting."

"Fourteen, that's right."

"Are you sure?"

"No," said Rabbit. "Does it matter?"

—A. A. Milne, The House at Pooh Corner

I always say, keep a diary and someday it'll keep you.

—Mae West

I breathe in the cold mountain air and it spikes my brain with an intensity to match the flaming sunset clouds. A whir of life buzzes in my head, clockwork and chaotic simultaneously.

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