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Things I've Found 5 (Whatever Happened to ThingsIveFound Riding the Trail Alone?)—11/20/2001

by Mark Rose

Whatever happed to Gene and Tex, and Roy and Rex, The Durango Kid? (and extra credit to you if you remember The Statler Brothers singing that song on TV oh, about fifty million freakin’ times; and no, let’s not bring up The Spinners and their “Rubber band, Rubber Band Man! Wooooo!” No, let’s not bring that up at all.)

After a week full of family, work insecurities, a flooding basement, and my own personal miniature nervous breakdown (now available in Capsule Size!), Things I’ve Found has emerged before its much-needed holiday hiatus filled with hopefully interesting things to click upon. So here we go:

Very cool — Lego Biblical dioramas:


Cookie Monster attacks:


[Extra bonus link deleted due to obsolescence.]

Well, it IS a monster after all. Definitely a must read.

Frank Cass Publishers (http://www.frankcass.com) publishes 62 different academic journals. Well, when I was going to school, we didn’t have the option to subscribe to such wonderfully academic titles as The European Sports History Review (annual), The International Journal of the History of Sport (quarterly) or Soccer in Society (tri-annually). Of course, when I was going to school, we didn’t have classes on online role playing games, either! Binghamton University (part of the State University of New York system) is offering a class on creating a role-playing character in the online game Asheron’s Call. You have to read the entire course description: http://courseguide.binghamton.edu/detail.asp?COURSEID=1646 [Dead now, unfortunately, much like Asheron's Call.]

I don’t even know where to start with this, except with a long, drawn-out anguished scream. Almost every sentence of the course description fills me with dread, sometimes because the statements are true. But a course where “. . . students read numerous articles pertaining to technology . . .,” devote time to “. . . looking at what identity means . . .,” indulge in the “. . . creation of a journal and student portfolios . . .,” and best yet, engage in “. . . almost constant reflection about experiences in and related to the game” just guarantees a thoughtful and rewarding intellectual experience, doesn’t it?

“OK class, let’s reflect about our gaming experiences.”

“Aw man, my wizard got smoked by that Olthoi when he came out from behind the rock.”

“And how does that make you feel about who you are as a person?”

As Keith Olbermann would say, “Guh!”

Sports: Let me get this straight: it’s perfectly legal to bet on sports throughout Europe; the NFL used to employ a tout named Jimmy The Greek on their pregame shows; ESPN.com radio has PGA golfer Phil Mickelson pick NFL games against the spread; all US newspapers across the nation print the spread even though sports betting is legal in only a few locations; basketball player Michael Jordan blows $500,000 in a single night at a casino; but Pete Rose is banned for LIFE from baseball. I’m sick of Jordan. He has a gambling problem, folks. If the all-time baseball hit leader is banned for life, I don’t see why Jordan is allowed to play either.

Shameless Plug Department: Oops, now I’ve done it. I’m now one of the official music reviewers for the national (though poorly-distributed) humor magazine Hitch. Out of Oklahoma City, Hitch is a mishmosh zine of humor, camp, kitsch, grade B movies, etc. They also have a tremendous video review section and a music review section heavily slanted towards hip hop and techno. Those of you who know my musical tastes will know that this is a match made in the Ninth Circle of Hell. I guess they needed the “clueless behind the times white boy surf band fan” point of view. It’s nice though because you never know what you’ll get. So far, Bingo Trappers (wish I hadn’t gotten that one) and Drag City Records’ Tramps, Traitors & Little Devils (nice just for the bits from smog and Edith Frost). Look for Hitch in Tower Records.

And most importantly of all, everyone on this list should have a Happy Holiday time this week. Until then . . .