Crimes Solved Implausibly

CSI and CSI like shows are fun to watch in small doses but I can only suspend disbelief for so long. There are a whole slew of things that make them less than plausible, from the agents that could double as catalogue models to the fact that everyone works in a sort of dark blue light, which you think would be the opposite of what someone in forensics would need. Though my eyebrows are especially raised with the following four things:

Overknowledge

Every agent no matter how young seems to not only have a photographic memory of everything they have ever seen, but can easily be called on as an in-house pro regardless of their expertise:

Agent 1: Agent 2, you went hunting with your dad once when you were 9 right?
Agent 2: Yeah, why what’s up?
Agent 1: We think our vic’s wound is from a hunting knife.
Agent 2: *looks at wound for like 5 seconds* Judging by the size and depth of the wound I would say it is either a Mueller or a Hazen…wait, the hilt print on the torso means its from the Mueller R-series, unique to their 1987 line…you can only get those at a collector’s shop in Mercer, Kentucky…Let’s Roll!

Supercomputers

The graphic capability alone is craziness. Not only can their computers cross reference people who live in Peshtigo, Wisconsin with people who have ever owned a grey, or maybe bluish vehicle, with people who have purchased peaches in the last 3 weeks, but when they do this amazing work, they do it in style. Screens are projected, holograms appear, entire movies are produced by inputting a few variables. Pan to a real crime lab where some poor sucker is leafing through scores of un-catalogued files hoping to stumble across some minor clue.

The Accused

Have you noticed that when investigators show up at someone’s house or place of work, they just keep on doing what they were doing before they arrived!? Whether they are changing their oil or arranging flowers, the fact they are being asked if they knew where so-and-so was before they were found dismembered in a backpack doesn’t phase them makes them instantly guilty in my books…or at least crazy. I know it’s probably done so not every scene is the same, but if two agents showed up at my door inquiring about someone I know being murdered I would stop shucking corn or whatever and give them my undivided attention.

The Agents

In CSI specifically the agents can be really cunty. It’s like they forget that a well-chosen pun may be sort of inappropriate at the scene of a grizzly murder: It’s always something like, Grissom walks into a cathedral where 3 elderly nuns are found butchered, “I guess it’s true what they say, old habits die hard”. What the hell!? Why don’t you do your job and leave your smug ass and callous asides at the door!

I know a lot of these things are done to make it entertaining, but after a while it just becomes laughable. I can look past the runway-ready agents, and the fact that the most obvious person is never guilty, but the conclusions they jump to are hilarious:

Agent 1: He was wearing Nikes when he was killed.
Agent 2: Isn’t Nike the Greek goddess of Victory?
Agent 1: Didn’t our corpse here have a friend named Victor Yang….Victor Y….Victory! Of course! Send a squad car!!!

Sometimes a dead dude is just a dead dude. The most obvious guy is the killer and the agents investigating don’t wake up in make-up and earrings.

God

I recently stumbled across a website that allows you to input any bible passage and it will look it up for you. I was randomly inputting passages like “Deuteronomy 3:14” and getting things like “Jair, a descendant of Manasseh, took the whole region of Argob as far as the border of the Geshurites”. This was instantly funny to me because it reminded me of Homer randomly picking a bible passage (Matthew….21:17) when trying to counter Rev. Lovejoy, which the Reverend instantly recites: “And he left them and went out of the city into Bethany and lodged there?” Homer just responds, “Yeah, think about it”.

This was until Earl suggested I enter my Confirmation name and my birthday as a search (John 3:30) and let that answer any question I might have. Though I never formulated an exact question I was looking for overall inspiration and what came up was “He must become greater; I must become less”. This sort of weirded me out since A) It was the first quote I had randomly selected that didn’t blather on about a location or a family line of some sort and B) Because it actually offered a sort of response.

If “He” was referring to God then does that mean I should make God an actual presence in my life? I haven’t exactly been on speaking terms with any sort of deity since I was 14 or so and decided that the God I was raised to believe in was either dead, non-existent, or no longer concerned with the pettiness of his creation.

When I studied Gnosticism for one of my English classes I related to the idea of a demi-god. Gnostics believe that the true God cannot possibly communicate with his creations. In the movie Dogma they touch on this saying that if we were to ever hear God’s true voice our brains would explode and our hearts would melt. According to Gnostics the true God creates a projection of itself which in turn fulfills the role of creator people often attribute with God. This demi-god however believes itself to be the true god and so do most all of its creations. This to me has always been the God people pray to in hopes of passing an exam, or getting the job they applied for. It is humanized, assigned gender and given the role of “The Father”. It is a far less lonely perspective to believe that Jesus is your homeboy than to think we are incapable of comprehending what God truly is.

I don’t like organized religion, to those who know me that is hardly news. It’s not that I don’t comprehend its value, I just dislike many of its aspects. Though many people internalize and adapt their religious doctrines, questioning their faith to make it stronger, a lot of people just take the package as is, accepting at face value everything that they are told—and that creeps me out. Historically, not questioning a belief system and following blindly a set of rules that aren’t resisted in any way, rarely ends well.

While chatting with a neighbour who had just gotten his mail I glanced down and realized he had a subscription to “The Catholic Register” and for some reason it bothered me and I didn’t understand why. This morning I had this conversation with another neighbour while waiting for the elevator:

Me: “Hey Adam, how’s it going”?
Adam: “Pretty Good, beautiful day out there”
Me: “It is…You’re looking pretty spiffy, where you headed?”
Adam: “My turn to spread the good word” (or something along those lines)
Me: not knowing what to say, “Right On”
Adam: “You should take one of these,

As Adam got off the elevator I read the pamphlet he had given me. As a Jehovah he would be witnessing the end of false religion including those who support the unions of gays and lesbians. Adam was off to hand out his pamphlets to any number of people who would scrap them or close the door on him, but he might find someone today that sees the rapture coming and wants on the boat away from the hellfire. Here’s how you can be saved. Here’s what is right and wrong. Here is what is good and bad. Open your hearts and wallets my friends, salvation is coming and it don’t come cheap.

I really don’t know how I am going to make “God” a “greater” presence in my life. In writing this I realize the answer most certainly does not lie for me in the template of organized religion, yet the vague “spirituality” non-atheists practice always seems unfulfilling. This blog doesn’t really have an end. Mea Culpa

Just Onederful

I normally hate comedy series finales. There is this compulsion to wrap everything up; to have every character's issues resolved which always feels like a cop-out. Friends was guilty of this, so was Sex and the City which is a sore point whenever I talk about the show.

For me the finale ruined what 6 seasons had worked so hard to build. Four women all struggling with their relationships with men discussing sex and love candidly. Whether the episode focussed on sexual promiscuity or the fear of dying alone or the aftermath of what happens when something good just doesn't work out resonated with the people who watched it. Everyone has a favourite character but whether you relate to the doe-eyed traditionalist, the unapologetic sexpot, the hardened independent or the hopeful creative, you likely see a bit of yourself (or a bit of what you wish you were more of) in the others. The finale made each of their individual stories sort of pointless as they all ended pretty much the same. The conclusions of previous episodes that focussed on friendship as personal strength, or not equating singledom with sadness became irrelevant, as the show about 4 sexy singles in New York ended up a show about 4 women in relationships. To me the show betrayed the characters and the audience by revoking everything in preached by not leaving even one of the women single.

Not to be too Carrie Bradshaw but...

Are single people ever truly happy?

I say this not because I am unhappily single, I honestly don't feel that a relationship is the right thing for everyone, and my sister was an abuse counsellor for many years so I KNOW relationships can be pretty toxic too. What I do know is that being the only (or one of the only) single people at a party blows goats for bus fare. I know that my friends in their thirties who have not yet paired-up are going out to more weddings and staying in on more weekends. I
know that carrying groceries from the parking garage to your apartment would be easier if someone would hold the doors. I know married people live longer statistically. I know having two incomes would make life a hell of a lot more fun. I know, at least in theory, that having someone committed to you and you alone makes the spaces in-between less gaping.

I also know that being single has its advantages too, but thats's another entry. I just got a call from Crystal in Thailand as I was wrapping up--serendipity I tells ya.

Sinful Pleasures

There is now a Taco Bell in the Square One food court. The Taco Villa is no more. That’s all. As simply as this blog began, it ends.

To Sleep, Perchance to Sleep S'more

Friends tell me horror stories of tossing and turning for hours, staring up at the ceiling, knowing they’ll have to get up in a couple of hours with barely any sleep. When I tell them it rarely takes me longer than 3 to 5 minutes to pass out I get looks of jealous disdain.

I get sleepy walking through the Sears linen department. I am the worst person to ride shotgun as I will fall asleep on you the entire way there AND back. I have fallen asleep in movies, in restaurants, clubs, bars and pretty much everyone’s house I have ever visited; in the middle of conversations; sitting up, standing up and even on the toilet. Once while returning from a movie I told the friend I was driving with that we needed to pull over as I couldn’t make it home without closing my eyes for a couple of minutes. When I awoke he was eating a Tim Horton’s Bagel. Apparently I had been asleep for 45 minutes and he had gotten hungry.

Lately it has gotten worse. It’s not from lack of sleeping as it seems the only thing that stirs me awake on my days off is a bladder ready to explode. I get really strange looks when I tell people I never wake up in the middle of the night. I often wake up with my glasses still on, lamplight shining, magazine on my face, or worse yet magazine on the floor; meaning I fell asleep while reaching for the switch on my table lamp.

On two occasions I was overcome with such a need to sleep I just lay on the floor. My bed was a mere 8 steps away and I just sorta…lay down. I also find myself “losing time”. That’s when I am watching something and even though the show has just begun, it’s suddenly over and I realize I must have slept through 40 minutes of it, but do not recall even closing my eyes. The last 2 nights I have passed out on the couch at around 10:00pm only to wake at around 3 or 4 unable to fall asleep again until it’s time to go to work.

So in conclusion don’t be jealous. It blows being unable to keep your eyes open, falling asleep at parties or on dates or during intimate conversations. Next time you can’t sleep, watch a movie or read a book and be happy you can do so without the Sandman punching you in the face.

Weird Experiment: Do a Google Image Search of the term "yawning" and tell me if looking at all the pictures makes you yawn too...or if it's just me.