August 3rd, 2012Top Story Total Recall is not a fantasy you want implanted in your brain By Annalee Newitz Total Recall is like Bourne Identity met Blade Runner, then had an ugly tabloid breakup followed by a nervous breakdown and a tell-all book. This remake of the 1990 cult classic Total Recall has all the ingredients of greatness, but squanders them. The result is an opulent film, packed with shiny details, that never persuades us to engage with its storyline — or even to have a good time. In one way, Total Recall does succeed. It is a comprehensive re-imagining of Paul Verhoven's film, itself based extremely loosely on a Philip K. Dick short story. Verhoeven's Recall took its main character to Mars, where he heroically helped the oppressed plebes and mutants of the Red Planet get out from under the thumb of the corporation that owns the oxygen in their habitrails. The first film had a kind of Golden Age SF expansiveness that made it both silly and profoundly fun. The new Total Recall is a much darker film, set on a post-apocalyptic Earth where chemical warfare has forced all of humanity live in two megacities — the UK and Australia (called simply The Colony). There are no mutants, no space travel, and no epic adventures. It's gritty urban realism of the future, complete with surveillance and environmental catastrophe. Our hero (Colin Farrell) is an average Joe with an annoying wife named Lori (Kate Beckinsale) and a crappy job on an assembly line building robocops (nice detail). But he yearns for a better life. So he goes to Rekall, a company that promises to implant him with fun memories of being a super spy. But it turns out that he's already got some false memories — and the real "him" is a guy named Hauser who is leading the Colony's resistance against the UK. Cue three giant chase scenes: one to get to a Bourne Identity-style safe deposit box; one through urban slums like the ones in Blade Runner; and one of which has him zooming in wall-climbing cars ala Minority Report. Instead of Mars, this new Total Recall gives us a literal hole in the ground. The big showstopper of the movie, which its creators have touted extensively, is "The Fall," a giant elevator that plunges through the center of the Earth. It's the super-fast form of transportation between the UK and The Colony, delivering the oppressed in The Colony to their low-income jobs in the UK. It's a cool idea, but in a movie whose premise is "we went gritty and real this time" it was probably not the right way to go. Let's leave aside the irritatingly improbable physics of the thing (you'll see what I mean — wear something soft on your forehead because you're going to slap it). The main problem with The Fall is that this movie is supposed to be all about how Earth is in this desperate state of collapse. Where, exactly, did they get the money and the resources for this incredible feat of civil engineering? Boring a hole through the planet, and running a functional elevator through it, is arguably as difficult as getting our collective asses to Mars. Or using geoengineering to repair all the chemical warfare damage. But I don't mean to get nerdy about the facts, here. The worst thing about The Fall is that it is visually boring. When it's in action, we see the elevator as a blip on the bad guy's surveillance screens, a tiny Pong-like dash falling through a glowing blue circle. And when our heroes are on board, it's just a room with some seats inside a big industrial building. I think the problem with The Fall is a miniature version of the problem with this whole film. There's a mismatch between the nuts and bolts of the world and the story that's supposed to be unfolding there. Hauser's identity has been shattered by futuristic technology, and he suddenly discovers he's supposed to be on a mission to liberate half the world's population. But instead of sorting shit out and kicking ass, he wastes a lot of time fighting with his "wife," who turns out to be a spy from the bad guys. Even though this should be spy vs. spy stuff, Hauser spends most of the movie making bitter husband comments about Lori — and his "real" girlfriend, rebel Melina (Jessica Biel), has to have this weird jealousy/fight tension with Lori. Is this a "saving the world" movie, or an "I hate my ex-wife" movie? Because I didn't sign up to watch the latter, and that's what I got. The movie's meandering plot structure also includes an abortive storyline about the robocops taking human jobs, as well as a lot of confusing and contradictory information about the Colony rebellion and terrorism. This choppiness isn't helped by the acting, which ranges from atrocious to phoned-in. Beckinsale, who has proven herself a seriously badass action actor in the Underworld movies, spends most of the movie snarking unenthusiastically, and Farrell does his best Zoolander face throughout. Even Bryan Cranston, playing the bad guy, is uninspiring. It's a terrible shame, because this cast could have been fantastic. And the movie's concept design is breathtaking. Like I said initially — all the ingredients for a terrific movie are here. But they never come together. Plus, Total Recall is set in a dystopian future so grim that you never wonder, "Is it real or is it Rekall?" as the ads suggest. It may be unrealistic, but it's certainly not somebody's heroic fantasy, because everything sucks.

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August 3rd, 2012Top Story All Meals Are Possible Through Christ: Hate-Bingeing on the Loaves and the Chicken By Mobutu Sese Seko People kept asking me on Wednesday whether I was going to go to a Chick-Fil-A to stare at the evangelicals on Chick-Fil-A Appreciation Day. "You live in Florida," they said, "it's probably gonna be awesome." I guess because they were going to be evangelical outside, in lines. I've never understood or particularly liked this orientalizing impulse of subcultural tourism. With the Amish it makes some sense, but many of these social distinctions feel so abstracted that you might as well try to watch, say, communities of people who can tolerate Jethro Tull albums from the 1980s. It's like visiting New York and saying to your native New Yorker friend, "Let's go see the Dominicans." "What Dominicans? You mean like my landlord?" "No, the Dominicans. All of them. Let's go watch them be Dominican." Besides this "exoticism" sounding socially horrible, it would be old hat to a New Yorker. Similarly, any prolonged time around loud-and-proud Christianity gets boring. If you're some kind of asshole, you can "ironically" listen to DC Talk, but it's dull when the people who start bands like that are coworkers, people toward whom you feel gentle things because you see them smile or worry beside you every day. Likewise, the phenomenon of "prayer warriors" and cordons of people ready to incant prefab "EVIL-B-GONE" word spray whenever a Satanic force enters their midst loses its novelty. As neat as it can be to hear those people who shout "Bort!" and "Snuh!" and "afgaf gafaf bafaf" because they believe they're genuinely speaking in tongues, after a while it all sounds like someone throwing up a bowl of Alpha-Bits. Then you stop liking Alpha-Bits. Which sucks. Anyway, I was going to pass on the whole thing when I saw this tweet from the Tampa Bay Times's Ben Montgomery: The crowd at Chick-fil-A in Hernando County broke into The Star-Spangled Banner. Also, a man had an 8-foot cross. I give you America, 2012. - Ben Montgomery (@gangrey) August 1, 2012 Click to view Okay, I thought. If people are singing at these things, there could be spontaneous loyalty oaths. And there's cosplay. I'll give this a shot. I tried three different Chick-Fil-As (Chicks-Fil-A?), and the same tableau revealed itself at each: Visibly irritated police officers trying to corral people into lines and keep them from queuing up in the street. People sitting in their cars, as rings of sedans, trucks and SUVs spiraled out from the drive-thru and circled the building, then spilled out into major roadways and blocked lanes of traffic. When it's time to reclaim America for Jesus, there's a lot of climate-controlled sitting involved. Not a single minority. One alpha-dog organizer type, who was clearly the Man With The Most Talking Points, who walked up and down the line and interdicted anyone walking up to determine if they were one of the flock. People gathered to celebrate the wonder-working power of redemption through Christ—which, instead of what all those pipe-organ songs seem to suggest, is cause for intense, simmering resentment. These were not happy people, but expecting happiness misreads what a lot of this was about. Certainly, large numbers of the people at Chick-Fil-As across the country were Christian, muttering familiar hypocrisies about love and dispensing the self-pardoning bigotry that, "I don't hate gay people. I just hate their sin, the defining act that makes them gay people." That these were organized events was confirmed by a drive past a couple college-basketball-arena-sized churches and seeing the parking lots empty on a Wednesday night—a day second only to Sunday in terms of organized observance. Indeed, you could be forgiven for assuming that this was solely a protest in favor of religion, but it was as much about Free Market Jesus as it was about the original version, with the poor people and the repudiation of material things. A large motivating factor for the Chick-Fil-A celebrants was aggrieved rhetoric from the far right that portrayed gay activist groups as violating or suppressing the First Amendment in two ways. One, that citizens boycotting a business constitutes active suppression of speech, and that Obama/The Gays/The Left were "criminalizing" pro-Christian speech. Two, that the original text of the First Amendment read, "Congress shall make no law abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press, or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, unless that speech or assembly affects a corporation's bottom line." View Full Photo Gallery » It's a fascinating bit of sophistry. Not only was Chick-Fil-A the victim of censorship and a suppression of the constitution on behalf of The Gay Agenda, but that censorship was double deluxe extra unconstitutional, because it is illegal to express opinions of businesses that hinder their making money. (All suspicion that I might have just been inferring this point ended when a woman yelled it at me.) The hegemonic forces of billion-dollar corporations and heterosexual Christians were the victims here. These perverse cries of oppression spoiled what could have been a universally respected—if not supported—exercise of first amendment rights and the power of one's own purse. Demonizing boycotts as a tool has a far more chilling effect on speech than boycotts themselves do, because it removes one of the few powerful amplifiers for the voices of the powerless. Most businesses have the luxury of adaptation; average citizens are prisoners of the limited products available to them that they can afford. Doubtless both sides of the political fence would approve of a boycott if the next Apple ad featured, "The Revolutionary New iPad: DEATH TO ISRAEL," and many Christians had no problems with boycotts against JC Penney and Oreo. Cynical and ginned-up claims of victimization turned the focus away from estimable things like political activism and instead highlighted an strong undercurrent of malice. We moved from talking about civil rights and exercising them to a collective gesture of, "Tell the other side to shove it up their ass." Take Montgomery (and Danny Valentine's) article in the Tampa Bay Times: Coulter, of Lakeland, planned to eat all three meals at Chick-fil-A on Wednesday.... "I hope what happens is that we hear from Chick-fil-A tomorrow that they had the biggest sales day in franchise history," he said. He was in good company. Look at the ugly nature of the protest. While some people donated the Chick-Fil-A they bought to the homeless, the protest outlined by Mike "ain't a Huckabee alive that can eat at Taco Bell for $7" Huckabee—a minister—suggested celebrating Christian values not by going out and doing something very like Jesus Christ but by buying a bunch of shit you don't need. Chick-Fil-A restaurants could have, for example, become collection centers for one of the largest canned-food drives in history, showing that we must heed Christian teaching because of the astounding power of its generosity. Instead, Chick-Fil-As became ground zero for the mass purchase of the Go Fuck Yourself Sandwich. This is the shape of a Christian protest: numerous participants expressing a dehumanizing spite of other citizens' human rights via loading up on meat-and-bread wads dropped into a deep fryer by a minimum-wage-slave. We've crossed the line between our great national sloth and skyrocketing levels of morbid obesity into Hate Obesity and Gluttony with Intent to Harm. What an exceptionally American achievement. Related: Many Faces, But One Big Monster: Some of Chick-Fil-A's Supporters Image by Jim Cooke.

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August 3rd, 2012Top Story How To Make Pulling An Engine Fun By Benjamin Preston Removing an engine from a vehicle is hard work, particularly on bigger cars and trucks. But that doesn't mean that it has to be unpleasant. It can actually be pretty fun if you include enthusiastic people who like solving problems and don't mind getting dirty. Here are the basics of how to get the job done, and how to have a good time doing it. Don't be scared by the prospect of pulling an engine. It's a huge pain in the ass, but it's not impossible, and on most cars, you can do it with basic tools and a rented engine hoist. It also helps to have at least two friends helping (don't try a solo engine pull, it sucks), and to get them interested, you have to jazz it up a bit. I decided to turn an industrial activity into a theme party; a "harvest" festival, if you will. We started with a brunch, and had plenty of snacks and cold beverages available for while we were working. For those not interested in getting their hands dirty, we put out chairs and set up a game of cornhole. Now, down to the more practical bits. Everyone has a different reason for wanting to remove an engine — the one you're using is worn out; you want a bigger one; you're scrapping the car; etc. In my case, a friend was scrapping a rusted out '95 Subaru Legacy with a low mileage engine I'd like to use in my car (at some point). Removal from a donor is way easier than most other engine removals (and definitely easier than putting one back in) because you don't have to worry so much about breaking things. To start, I had to make sure I had the essentials in order. a Haynes or Chilton repair manual. Don't do this without one unless you know what you're doing. Your car may have some weird parts or procedures that you wouldn't know about until you read through the steps. a hard, flat surface upon which to do the job basic tools like sockets, wrenches, pliers, wire cutters, razor blades, and a breaker bar a jack and jackstands containers/a splash pan/rags to catch oil, coolant, and transmission fluid a rented engine hoist a short length of chain to attach to the engine a piece of paper and a pencil, and a digital camera Let's get started! Photo credit: Benjamin Preston First off, get your food and drinks in order. It's smart when you're going to be out on your feet all day, but it also keeps your helpers happy. We started out with pancakes and a special kind of orange juice, so everyone was well fed and mellow when it was time to get started. Photo credit: Benjamin Preston Depending upon where you live, an engine hoist can be pretty easy to find. I just googled equipment rental, and after finding out that most of the engine hoists in town were checked out for the weekend, I found a place about 12 miles away. Standard outlets for stuff like this are Taylor Equipment Rental and Sunbelt Equipment Rental. It cost me $40 for a day. Photo credit: Benjamin Preston To start, take pictures of what everything looks like before you begin tearing out wires and hoses. It's hell to try and remember how they all go back in. If you're putting this engine into a totally different car, you're screwed anyway. Arrange your splash pan under the car, block the back wheels with bricks or rocks or something, and jack up the front end of the car on both sides. You'll need enough room to shimmy under the car and disconnect things like exhaust and engine mounts, so MAKE SURE YOU SHAKE THE CAR TO ENSURE STABILITY. You don't want a car falling on you or one of your friends. Photo credit: Benjamin Preston Helpers: They don't really have to know anything about cars, but it helps if they're generally competent (and won't do blatantly unsafe things, other than wearing flip flops to change an engine) and can be trusted to figure out basic problems. I lucked out and got a bunch of lawyers, and those guys love to solve problems. Bolt hung up? No problem. There's a logical solution involving a different angle and a log found in the dumpster. Anyway, if you're thinking of asking that guy who always ends up lighting stuff on fire at parties to help you, you should reconsider your options. Photo credit: Benjamin Preston The $20 tarp is a great idea, unless you know it's going to be really windy (in which case you might want to postpone for more cooperative weather). It'll keep the sun off of you while you work, and if it rains a little bit, you're covered. But it's best to look at the weather forecast before you begin so you don't end up with tools and parts strewn about all over the place when the skies open up. We elected to git'r done in the parking lot behind my house. We also (sort of) made sure the landlord was ok with this first, because having parts and tools strewn about when the landlord opens up on you is no bueno either (I just happened to know he doesn't give a crap about stuff like that as long as we clean up when we're done). Photo credit: Benjamin Preston Now that you have the car jacked up and a good working space set up, drain all the fluids from the engine: oil, coolant, and transmission fluid. Please make sure you put them in some kind of container that you can take to a recycling center later. You'll still need to keep the splash pan and one or two buckets handy, as fluids will spill out when you move things around. Photo credit: Benjamin Preston Stay nourished! It's hot/cold out there, and your body needs it if you expect it to help you finish this job. If you're having a beer or three, make sure you pace yourself and drink plenty of water, too. You're going to be here for a while and it's no good to be intoxicated at the end. After you've drained all the fluids, it's a good time to start tagging hoses and wire connectors so you know where they all went later on. This can take a while, but once you're done, you can start unplugging things and disconnecting anything that looks like it will hold the engine up when you pull it out. There are a number of things to disconnect, but the order really depends upon what car you're working on, so you really need to check a repair manual. But basically, this is what you will be taking out: exhast pipes radiator/coolant hoses transmission cooling hoses (for automatics) engine wiring fuel and air conditioning lines (you should have the a/c discharged by a shop before you start, because venting compressed refrigerant into the air is both bad for the environment and illegal) engine-to-transmission bolts (make sure the engine is supported), engine mounts, and weird crossmembers throttle linkages and other odds and ends attached the engine and the car at the same time Photo credit: Benjamin Preston It's a good idea to tell the non-mechanical types at your mechanic party where they should and shouldn't sit. Luckily, this woman didn't get any grease/oil/soot/battery acid on her nice skirt, but it happens if people aren't careful. That stuff never comes out of clothes. Photo credit: Benjamin Preston Other than having extra muscle for lifting and prying on things, two extra sets of hands is invaluable when it comes time to get to some hard-to-reach spots. For example, we encountered some rusty exhaust manifold bolts and sticky engine mount nuts that were hard to get to, but with a hand from either side and a pair of eyes spotting, we were able to get through it pretty quickly. Plus, it was like one of those fun team building exercises you do at summer camp. Always good times. Photo credit: Benjamin Preston When you get everything that's holding the engine in the car out, and remove any obstructions (like the hood) that might get in the way when you're ready to yank it, get your chain and attach it to the engine. It should be pretty self explanatory where it attaches, usually to a pair of metal loops on either side of the engine. You can also use grade 8 bolts in really, really sturdy bolt holes in the engine block. The shackles for the end of the chain were less than $10 at the local hardware store. Photo credit: Benjamin Preston I didn't feel like buying a new chain, because I already bought this bike chain to keep bike thieving asshats from stealing my bicycle when I lived in Manhattan. It not only defends my property from jackers, but can also support the weight of a Subaru EJ22. Best $70 I ever spent. Photo credit: Benjamin Preston When you're ready to pull the engine out, MAKE SURE THERE'S NO ONE UNDER THE CAR. Also, if it hangs up on something, take your time and figure out what it is. Jacking up the hoist more won't help, it'll just pick up your car by the engine, which is dumb. With a little bit of jacking and some wiggling of the engine, it should break loose. Then you can slowly, carefully lift it out. Make sure you always have someone controlling the jack in case something goes wrong. Also, stay away from places where you could potentially get squashed by the engine if the jack fails and it falls. Serious stuff, people. Photo credit: Benjamin Preston Great, you're done! Now you need to have another a beer and figure out where to put that engine. The best thing to do is mount it on an engine stand in a garage, but we don't have any of that stuff. That's why we're in a parking lot. I ended up stealing a palate from the grocery store down the street and using chunks of wood to wedge the engine into place. Then, we used an old plastic bag to cover it. It won't be used for anything until later, because putting the engine back in and getting it to work is even more laborious a process. But when the time comes, I'll throw another party. Photo credit: Benjamin Preston

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