I have never spent a Christmas apart from my parents. If this were a competition, I would note that my sister, Nicole, once spent Christmas in México during college. (What, Nicole, what?) When will I break this pattern, and for what reason? I cannot yet imagine, or rather, the life matters I can imagine are so so far away from me.

I will revisit now my promise to Nicole that I would return to Massachusetts (if and) when she and Mark have children. This promise stands firm, with no regard for its resultant emotions, good and bad, on various coasts, east and west. Babies! Also: possibly temporary move!

On December 11th, at my going-away party, I made a promise to my closest Seattle friends that I would return to that fair city for my next birthday. I stand firm here, again, whether or not I was drinking whiskey sours when the promise was made, and whether or not Sarah makes the best damn shepherd's pie. Which she does. My friends, I made a promise but I need not have: I love you all and I will be back. Sooner, and December 9th, 2010, and later.

I gave my word once, and I broke it, and I have continued to break it over and over again. Specifically, I promised a girlfriend that I would not talk on the cell phone and drive at the same time—my adherence to such lasted through the end of our relationship. Now, well, I will not discuss my specific iPhone habits while driving but suffice it to say that they are AWESOME. Um, sorry?

The remaining promises I make, the commitments I hold dear and true, are nothing more than whispers into winter air. I am a free man, unfettered: catch me before I float away on a warm breeze. Catch me, hold me down: I promise that I'll promise you whatever you like, especially if it's bourbon.

Goodnight, and Merry Christmas.

Oh, right, I stay awake this late all the time when I have work to do. Um, okay, moving on to my actual topic.

Ahem.

I fly tomorrow morning to meet my sister, her fiancé, my parents, and eventually more of our family and Mark's family and their friends, for their marriage in Oaxaca, México. My sister, my Colie, is getting married.

Holy shit.

And by that I mean that I am incredibly happy and thankful for Nicole and Mark's love for each other and for this opportunity to celebrate this love with them. But, seriously, my sister is getting married. And then? Everyone else in the world is getting married, too:

• Claire Fisher and Whit Scott
• Laura Fisher and Matt
• Kristin Schwabauer and Scott Rydbeck
• Matt May and Rachel Sharpe
• George Brown and Colleen Cunningham
• Amy Moran and Don Lowe

Laura, I am sorry that I cannot make your wedding but I am happy to have talked to you today and I do want to visit Boulder. George, if you're reading this, I am not fishing for an invitation: I would just like to congratulate you and highlight how far you and Matt May have come since we were playing Resident Evil and Magic: the Gathering. Whit and Claire, I promise to do my best as Best Man Ever (Other Than Whit, and Who Is Not Allowed to Look Better Than Whit on Whit's Wedding Day).

Goodnight, and may all awake with love and happiness. And may I please please manage to wake up for my plane flight. Please.

The Dark Knight was fantastic, featuring some quality action and special effects but truly succeeding by evoking fear and despair. The film portrayed a particularly dark and gruesome Gotham, in which no one is safe or impervious to corruption. The protagonists seemed tired and pessimistic, winning small victories at times but never able to overcome the sea of evil. I am trying to avoid discussing the plot—I suggest you see the film to understand.

Heath Ledger portrayed the Joker brilliantly. He never slipped out of character or hardly exposed the least bit of humanity. His dementia was so complete and convincing that I could not help but feel fear. And he was a clever Joker, unbelievably adept at manipulating all those around him.

I do suggest you see The Dark Knight in a theatre in order to appreciate fully the film. If you require a further dose of Batman, as I do, I would recommend Batman: Gotham Knight. The studio produced, and released directly to DVD, a set of six short stories about Batman by different acclaimed writers and animators. These vignettes are very much in the style of the Animatrix, though perhaps a bit less varied in animation style.

Will this new trend of actually seeing films continue? Will I see Hellboy 2 or Wall-E in the theatre? I'll let you know.

And then I remember that I talk all the time about movies I just have to see, and that I watch every single trailer on the Apple site. And then I never ever actually go to see a movie. Huh.

Oh, except for Planet B-Boy. I talked all the time about how I had to see it. And then I saw it. And it was amazing. Watch the trailer and check out Ichigeki's team routine:

And now go see the movie. Do it!

I read two books by Saramago last year and loved both. He is truly a master of fiction. Please see A Beautiful Smudging and Re-Approaching a High School Level for more of my thoughts on Saramago.

I drew laughter and mockery for not focusing on the more typically recognized, but no more valid, aesthetic qualities of the advertisement (I'm talking about the half-naked underwear model), but I stood my ground. I don't have anyone for whom to buy lingerie, and I'm not sure I would if I did, and certainly not on the merits of a Super Bowl commercial. On the other hand, I was genuinely interested today to discover that the Law & Order typeface is called Friz Quadrata, and that it is used on ramen flavor packets.

And I don't think my attribution of similarity between the Law & Order and Victoria's Secret typefaces is too far off.

In other typographic news, Apple Trailers committed an error of false relation between two upcoming movies. The placed the trailer link images right next to each other and used the same typeface---Lucide Grande---for each. The obvious disparity in time period between the two just creates confusion for the user.

I would blame lazy movie poster designers from Paramount Vantage, the studio for both films. Lucide Grande is used for all the non-image titles on Apple Trailers and must just be stuck on by default when the image lacks a title.

And, no, I have not watched either trailer yet, no matter how hot Keira Knightley and Daniel Craig are. I was too busy thinking about fonts.

I just have to stand and give my due. Cheers, Spike. You rule.

Oh, also, he was previously married to Sofia Coppola, who wrote and directed Lost in Translation, which makes him a heck of a lot closer to making out with Scarlett Johansson than I'll ever be. Le sigh.

In other news, and briefly, I am in Massachusetts, having arrived yesterday morning. The thick layers of snow are melting away in today's sun and blue skies but my hometown is beautiful and wintery all the same.

On deck: Christmas Eve and Day with my parents, sister, and her boyfriend; catching up with high school friends; digital pinhole photography hacking; shopping for New Year's crafting; the glorious trip to Maryland; and other revitalizing creative endeavors.

I hope you are well, and enjoy the season. Merry Christmas, and Peace and Love.

I third-wheeled with Sarah and Charlie this Saturday to see Juno at the Pacific Place, downtown. (Incidentally, I have years of experience and wonderful times as an accompaniment to couples---more on this in a later post?) Anyway, I loved Juno. I will agree with Charlie that it was not a better movie than No Country, but I enjoyed Juno more than any other movie I have seen this year. It was at once deeply heartfelt and sharply funny---I laughed raucously throughout and found myself in tears during particularly poignant moments and, of course, the end.

Juno is a Wes Anderson without the pretentiousness, Super Bad's examination of adolescence without the fantasy and improbability, and a brilliant counter to Knocked Up's gender stereotyping, raunch and bullshit. I urge you to go see it. Check out the trailer if you must, but please just go see the movie.

I think I will be seeing quite a few movies over this upcoming holiday break from work. I at least need to see The Order of the Phoenix, however bad or good the newest Harry Potter offering is. Any other picks from my readers?

Songs and discussion after the jump. Tell me in the comments about the bad songs you love.

First is "Come Sail Away" by Styx, but performed by Eric Cartman. My NeonGecko coworkers have a bit of South Park obsession and we regularly listen to this song late in the afternoon.

Another key offering from Styx is "Lady," which was immortalized for me by Freaks and Geeks, the particular scene from which is unfortunately unavailable on YouTube. Lindsay arrives in Nick's basement, expecting him to want sex, and is equally horrified by his profession of love through a Styx sing-along and the subsequent couch nuzzling. This song perfectly describes love. Right.

Oh, wait, no no no, that's not the song that perfectly describes love. That honor falls to "All for Love" by Sting, Bryan Adams, and Rod Stewart. This song was the theme to the Charlie Sheen version of Three Musketeers. Sting, why did you agree to such a terrifying team-up? You were in The Police! Aren't you better than this?

Can we talk about the setting for this one? Who records in an empty concert hall? I have the answer: a washed-up, cocaine-addled trio whom promoters refuse to book for actual shows.

Bryan Adams and a movie set in Medieval times are a surefire combination. Kevin Costner, good job with Field of Dreams and Dances with Wolves. What the hell were you thinking during the rest of your career? And, come on, even a younger, bearded Severus Snape would obviously kick Robin Hood's ass halfway to Hogwarts. Enjoy Bryan Adams performing amidst the crepuscular rays of Sherwood and interspersed clips of the always dreamy Christian Slater. I give you "(Everything I Do) I Do It For You."

My final offering is "Believe or Not" by Joey Scarbury. This song was the theme to Greatest American Hero, one of my favorite television shows in the early 80s. Check out the synopsis from YouTube:

A teacher is asked to be a superhero using a special alien suit with powers he can barely understand or control, after losing the instruction manual.

Pure gold!

Jeez, I had such a huge crush on Connie Sellecca. 80s TV women were the best. In closing, and as a bonus, I give you George Costanza's answering machine rendition of "Believe or Not."