The Incongruities: Road Signs

Sunday, May 20, 2007

Road Signs

My dad sent this along, and posting it here probably violates some copyright laws or syndication contracts or something. (So if you find this here, Universal Press Syndicate or whoever, I'll take it down. I just don't think you'll ever find me. Welcome, if you do.) It's really here to lead me to an entirely insignificant observation I made while driving through a well-to-do neighborhood near mine the other day. While passing through the "Traffic Calming Area," I grew a little agitated. What had formerly been labeled "Speed Humps" (giggle) were now called "Speed Tables" on the yellow warning signs next to them. There's probably a distinction, as I believe there is between the little raised asphalt strips found mostly in parking lots known as "speed bumps" and the higher, more rounded "humps." I agree with that nomenclature, for what it's worth. "Table," however, strikes me as a really dumb word for what amounts to a speed hump and/or a raised crosswalk, and I suspect the reason they're called "speed tables" and not either of the former is that:

(a) they are located in an upscale neighborhood and "table" seems classier, though really the bar for "classier" isn't that high when "humps" is part of the conversation
(b) they're not at a reasonable crossing place, and
(c) teenagers kept stealing their signs.

I don't actually know why I'm agitated by it, but it just seems so stupid and inaccurate. Will we have "Speed Plateaus" next? "Speed Mesas" for southwestern flavor?

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One Sentence Movie Reviews

A Scanner Darkly: Fitting that in this movie about a brain divided against itself: sometimes the animation looks really cool, and sometimes it looks like Paint-By-Number art; sometimes Keanu Reeves acts confused, and sometimes Keanu Reeves seems confused; and sometimes the plot is interesting and coherent, and sometimes it makes as much sense as a paranoid PCP-freak reading Beowulf out loud.
Hollywoodland: This movie about the suicide (murder? enter Adrian Brody) of George "TV's Superman" Reeves is kind of interesting, until it is completely not.
Little Children: Beautiful people act like average-looking people, and Jackie Earle Haley thoroughly creeps you out, all in a nice, artistic way, though.
Quinceañera: I am neither fifteen, pregnant, Chicana, a practicing member of an indeterminate sect of Christianity, nor impressed by Hummer stretch limousines, all of which goes to prove that you don't need to have anything in common with the characters in a film to enjoy watching it.
SherryBaby: Maggie Gyllenhal is perpetually braless and fairly compelling (especially while tunelessly singing a Bangles song) in this otherwise dull movie that comes across like a writing-workshop short story; also, Danny Trejo has been working out.
The Break-Up: Too many characters and an obviously pasted-on ending hinder this decent romantic-comedy-in-reverse, which stars the likably chumpy Vince Vaughn and a very pretty Jennifer Aniston.
The Conversation: I'd never seen this super-super-tight 1974 F.F. Coppola film starring Gene Hackman, but it proved to me that the sound editor (Walter Murch is the genius's name) can be as important to a movie as having one of the most amazing cast of 1970s supporting stars you can imagine: Fredo, Shirley, Indy, Inga, and (uncredited!) the Great Santini.
The Devil and Daniel Johnston: Let's call this a decent, visually-appealing documentary about Daniel Johnston, his religion-oriented mental illness, and playing music, without enough music, frankly.
The Good Shepherd: Apparently Larry King really liked this long, boring suckfest of a spy movie, which seems to be about some secrets behind the Bay of Pigs Invasion and inadequate fathers.
The History Boys: An old, fat, probably gay teacher and a young, thin, probably gay teacher alternately have respectfully inappropriate relationships with a group of witty, diverse Oxbridge applicants, all under the watchful eye of an amusingly blustery and utilitarian headmaster and a wise, wizened female history teacher.
The Host (Gwoemul): Do not hesitate to see what might be the best monster movie ever made, which manages to make you laugh, scare the piss out of you, dampen your eyes, and get you to think about western imperialism in Korea all at once, with adequately convincing CGI.
The Last King of Scotland: What you've got here is a charming, horny Scottish doctor, a charming, vicious African dictator, and a real blow to the Ugandan tourism industry.
The Lives of Others (Das Leben der Anderen): Well, if you didn't know or didnt remember how bad the totalitarian government of East Germany was, director Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck (check out that name!) reminds you in a really great, compelling movie that manages to humanize at least one individual stasi officer and shows the dehumanizing nature of the State and its Security behind the Wall.
The Proposition: I thought Ray Winstone was great in this character-driven Western set in the Australian outback, circa 1880, and though the film was a real looker with a good premise (written by Nick Cave), I don't know why I didn't really like it, but I didn't.
The Queen: Meh, I was studying in London when it happened, and while this film nicely presents a personal view of an otherwise utterly impersonal monarch, I didn't much care.
Wordplay: A surprisingly good documentary about crosswords and people who do them really quickly, which, at 94 minutes, is over faster than I can do a NY Times puzzle.