Fringe, Furries and Phobias

Well, I hit the wall with Fringe. The thing that got me was the fact that no matter what creepy or unusual thing was going on, the scientist – Walter – had worked on something similar in the past. It’s a little too convenient. I don’t mind formulaic shows, but that’s stretching it. Since this is the third J.J. Abrams project I’ve taken a chance on, I can officially write him off as being overrated.


Speaking of Tuesday night programming, I read that the newest character on House, the private investigator, is supposed to be getting his own show. I don’t know if that would be a good thing. I like his interaction with House, but I’d have to see more to decide if he could sustain his own vehicle. Couldn’t be any worse than Psych, at any rate.


In other TV news, I read an interesting article that gave a way of determining if a TV show will be cancelled. Each network tracks that all-important 18-49 demographic, so if a show regularly pulls in a number of 18-49 year-olds that is at least 92% of the station’s average 18-49 demographic, that show will most likely stay on the air.


Anybody else think that maybe Maurice Sendak is a closet furry? I mean, Max dresses as a wolf in Where the Wild Things Are, and the Little Bear series has Emily (a human girl) “marrying” Little Bear (a bear) the first day they meet, not to mention the episode where Skunk is upset because no one will kiss him.


I saw where the National Federation of the Blind is upset over the new movie Blindness, because it “portrays the blind as monsters.” No, it doesn’t. It portrays formerly-sighted people who are struck blind, and react with fear and anger; that much is clear from the trailer. The NFB is calling for a boycott of the movie. Isn’t encouraging blind people not to see a movie somewhat redundant?


I did a typical “man thing” recently, and cleaned out the garage. It actually turned out to be a lot easier than I’d feared. Like a lot of old houses, we have our share of insect-life that shares residence with us. This varies by region, of course. In our case, we have camel crickets (also known as cave crickets). These critters are like the bastard children of crickets and spiders.


Look at it. LOOK AT IT!

Thing is…I’m a teeny bit arachnophobic. I’ll be rooting through a box in the attic, and one will jump into view. A small part of me notes that yes, it’s another camel cricket. This part is usually being drowned out by the Ohshitohshitohshit! part that sees the front legs and immediately slots it into the SPIDER! category. So it’s been a cardiac adventure ever since we moved in.

Anyway…as long as I know they’re there, no problem, so I was okay in cleaning out the garage, where boxes and bags had been accumulating for thirty years. What I hadn’t counted on was how hyper these things are. I was pushing the broom around, gently nudging them outside as I worked, when one bounced off me and landed behind a bag which apparently concealed a well-established colony of them.

It was like dropping a ping pong ball into a room full of mousetraps.

The crickets exploded from behind the bag, all shades and sizes. It felt like I was in a pinball machine during the fucking Multiball round. My wife found me in the fetal position on top of a bag of pine chips a few hours later.

But the garage looks great!