Lego A No Go

My ten-year-old leaned over to me half-way through the Lego movie: "I wish I could touch the bottom of the screen and see how much time is left, because I am really bored."

I had to agree.

Though the movie's problem was more than being boring.

The first problem is a kick-ass, fierce, accomplished female character (Wyldstyle) falls for a unremarkable rule-follower (Emmet) with no particularly original ideas other than a bunk-couch. Female character comes understand her subservient position to the special Emmet character—and to adore and venerate him—because she's realizes that, well, men are awesome.

Second problem is when corporations tell us how to be an original, free thinker: purchase their products! And if you don't follow the directions, they have a special admiration for you, you crazy renegade purchaser! Here's a pat on your free-thinking caucasian head, now go on back to Target to buy the deluxe model.

Just to make sure you understand that you can't think for yourself with the aid of a corporate overlord, a Coke commercial precedes the movie. Various folks at creative pinnacle of their lives—which they face with a Coca-Cola in hand. Free-thinkers take creative risks with can of carbonated chemicals at their side.

Warning: Ear Worms!

Help!! I can't stop listening this slowed-down version of Dolly Parton singing "Jolene."

But at least it's gotten this addictive Gaellic flash mob-esque version of "The Cups Song" (neé "When I'm Gone") out of my head:

For the moment, anyway.

The Hard Boiled Eggs In The Oven Phenomenon

Whew—want to meet some excited people? Google "hard boiled egg oven," or Bing it if you're on a PC. You too can get swept up in the greatest improvement to cooking since red quinoa: oven-baked hard-boiled eggs!!! For some reason, this topic is an over-punctuated one, and fraught with indiscriminate capitalization:

People are really excited about oven-baked eggs. As they should be. Oven baked eggs, purportedly:

1.) taste as good or better than boiled
2.) can be baked in the oven!!
3.) instead of boiling!!

Not one to fight a sound argument, seven eggs are baking in my oven as I type. I have high hopes for this oven-baked thingie because hard-boiled is the only way to eat eggs. Scrambled eggs look like scrambled placenta (cuz they are). Ditto for omelettes, quiche, poached, over easy . . . I'm feeling queasy even typing these dishes . . . but hard-boiled, now there's a yummy way to chow down on some embryonic fluid.

And ladies—yes, most of these oven-baked egg aficionados are ladies—if I may dial up the egg goodness even further: please consider free-range, organic, brown, oven-baked eggs. I was shocked how many photos demonstrated the egg-baking process with white eggs. Say no-no-no-no way to white eggs! White eggs from the grocery store will taste like Tupperware after your first time with an organic brown egg.

I interrupt this post to report that eggs baking in the oven give off that gross cooking egg smell (fellow egg-avoidants will know what I'm talking about), whereas we all know that hard-boiling eggs produces no smell. Mark that as a pro or con, depending on your predilection. Oh, hello! How could I have forgotten to tell you the recipe: cook the eggs for 30 minutes at 325 degrees.

Behold the glory of the oven-baked egg:

I'm told not to worry about the spots, not that I would've, but in case you are—don't. And yes, the muffin tin is the suggested container. I suspect the reasons are mostly aesthetic in the way that Pinterest users love order and things that fit nicely into slots.

It's very late, so I will conclude this post in the morning with a taste test.

MORNING UPDATE: The eggs did not peel any easier than hard-boiled, contrary to many enthusiasts' claims. Here is a photo of the peeled egg, whole and cut. I am not a fan of the two brown spots or the big air dimple at the bottom of the eggs. Aesthetes sigh.

They are drier than hard-boiled eggs and maybe even a little tougher. In a blind taste test, I probably could not tell the difference, but I don't plan to switch to oven baking my eggs any time soon unless I need 50 or so for an egg-dying party. And if I tell you I'm hosting an egg-dying party, please send me to a psychiatrist at once.

Who Wore Them Best?

My son, or me?

But What About "I Will Survive"?

I always knew disco could save lives. Turns out "Staying Alive" helps doctors perform CPR. The song contains 103 beats per minute, almost identical to the human heart. I have no idea what this means really but here's hoping your paramedic is wearing an iPod next time you require resuscitating (I bet you can't spell resuscitating without a spellchecker. I couldn't). "Another One Bites The Dust" does almost as well, but the irony factor cancels out the benefit, according to doctors. Personally, I'd be thrilled to be resuscitated by either of these hits. And I can vouch for their life-saving abilities; both of them already helped me survive adolescence.

Crust! Bwah Ha Ha!

Speaking of the 70s, am I the only one who loved Wacky Packs? Apparently not, because there is now a Wacky Packages (as they are formally known) coffee table book. I loved the stickers but hated the gum. It was the gum version of soylent green—flat, dry as hell and shattered in your mouth like a potato chip. But the stickers—hilarious. Sea Honkies for Sea Monkeys, yark! And who knew the artists were Art Spiegelman and Jay Lynch? How uber cool is that. If you've never fully witnessed the rare jewel that is Wacky Pack, take a tour here.

Random-ish Thought 2

I've been vaguely aware of a lot of Madonna in the news lately, and not for possible illegal adoption or divorce fracas, but for a real live music tour. There was even a photo of her in fishnets and a bustier looking exactly like she did twenty years ago, except she's now 60 pounds lighter.

My question is: who is Madonna's fan base these days? Back when I was in college, those Like A Virgin days, it was my peers. But now my peers are in their mid-40s and I haven't heard a single reverence to Madonna since 1992. Is it the kidz? Aging gay men?

There's An Old Man Sittin Next To Me

I only like one Billy Joel song, but I live for it: Piano Man. It has the exact histrionic crescendos and lack of subtlety I look for in my music. So when Fark called a seven year old's version "one of the greatest renditions of Piano Man," I had to check it out.

Well the kid sings it better than I do, but so could a beluga whale. There is a curious tag underneath the video that says: "This is a video response to Piano Man - played by Justin. "

A battle! Off to Justin's version.

After 6 seconds of Justin, it's clear the 7-year-old creamed him.

Still and all, Elton John trumps them both.

(Also: Does Billy Joel look like Jesse Jackson?)