The Daily News
1 I’m into the four a.m. watching this ridiculously hilarious film about a giant Venusian lizard that is terrorizing Italy. It is immune to bullets. What makes it funny it isn’t that much of a giant. It’s smaller than an elephant, making it one of the most low-budget monsters in cinematic history.
2 It just got into a fight with an elephant.
3 I’m not a betting man, but I’ll bet the monster wins.
4 It has clung to the elephant like an enormous tick. They’re running through the streets of Rome in old-film jitterbug style. It has the elephant in a what looks like a half-nelson.
5 DOWN GOES THE ELEPHANT!
6 The creature is growing. It is suddenly enormous. Even though word is out that it is immune to bullets, military people who should know better continue to shoot at it. Continually.
7 I came in at the end, but I had a feeling it would all go down to a final scene at the Roman Colosseum.
8 There will be tanks, helicopters, and guys on huge walkies.
9 The monster has found his way from Sicely to the Colosseum. Knock me over with a feather. He climbs to the top. He doesn’t seem too interested in girls, which is unusual for a monster.
10 He gets to the top of the Colosseum; people are screaming; guns are being fired. They might as well try to bring the fellow down with marshmallows and whipped cream.
11 Uh-oh. Looks like the military is going to the most dangerous weapon in the ’50′s: the stovepipe bazooka.
12 The monster might be immune to bullets, but NOTHING is immune to bazookas in ’50′s monster movies.
13 The monster takes a shot in the belly. He grabs his belly. He is reeling.
14 Another bazooka shot. The monster saves himself by grabbing the top of the Colosseum.
15 A woman’s scream.
16 The monster falls, taking a huge chunk of the Colosseum with him, and is clearly dead on impact.
17 One officer says to the other, “Why is it always, always so costly for Man to move from the present to the future?”
18 The End.
19 My favorite line: “Get that elephant out of here!”
20 I watched it while trying to get my laptop to start. I’m convinced that electronic devices pick up on my negative vibes and shut down on me anytime I am stressed.
21 And I have been stressed. Computers, School Loop, Data Director, among other deadline-important items all keep closing down, keep not saving things , keep posting “Under Construction” signs, and keep buffering when I am racing deadlines.
22 It’s like they know.
23 Moving on, Part One: Yesterday at a meeting one young teacher told us that they now have computer programs that could grade papers.
24 These things are sure getting smart.
25 I naturally began to wonder if they are smarter than we think.
26 I began to wonder if someone is giving computers human qualities, injecting them with that childish urge to do practical jokes on random people.
27 This has been a banner year for technological meltdowns.
28 That probably explains my fascination with monster movies lately.
29 So much worse can happen.
30 Oh well. Like I always say, if that’s the worst of my problems, I got no problems.
31 It’s sort of funny, because yesterday I was stressing my inability to reach a very important website so that I could once again run answer sheets for our Benchmark test, which was a huge thorn in the butt at the end of last semester.
32 Computers. It’s funny. You have good vibes with certain programs, and bad vibes with others.
33 It’s sort of like people.
34 Anyway, I’m giving the test on tomorrow, and I KNOW that it takes an act of Congress for an old geezer like me to get the answer sheets off this irritating program called Data Director. I figured it out right before Christmas, and made a diving catch for a touchdown right before we left for break. I got those answer sheets done through the help of several colleagues, many as stumped as I with the procedures.
35 Data Director recently changed their access procedures, so we had to go a different route to get these things than we did at Christmas. To make a long story longer, I was just about to log in when this student flew at my door, crashed into the rectangular window on the door, and dropped to the ground.
36 I smiled, because I recognized the guy as a student I had last year. He was in my seventh period English 4 class, and came to visit with a girl who was also in the class.
37 I instantly dropped everything I was doing and sat down for a lovely chat. We talked about all the goofballs from the class, and all the fun we had in the Spring, with Shakespeare, with poetry, with skits, and with my Cafe Verona day, when my room becomes a hip coffee house, complete with food, drinks, and yes, nickel-cups of coffee. We have a poetry reading with every student sharing a poem or two, and at the end of the period I strap on my guitar and sing a couple of songs, usually well-rehearsed. I have a mic and an amp to give it a live effect. Last year I did Simon and Garfunkel’s America, and a surprise for even myself, Punky’s Dilemma, a jewel of a song. The former students laughed, and their eyes twinkled with fond memories of a fun day. Data Director disappeared in an instant, replaced by laughter and warmth.
38 Sometimes when I tell people I teach, they ask, “What do you teach?”
39 In a rather non-condescending way I answer gently, “Students.”
40 I may change that. I may say, “People.”
41 I don’t really teach them though. I do when lecturing, but they teach me as well; it’s a two-way street.
42 The chat found those two wonderful students and I simply exchanging all the good times we had in class, moving quite naturally to their hopes for the future, and to their dreams. And to my dreams as well.
43 After they left I decided I was done for the day. It was such a nice visit!
44 I turned and looked at my computer. The LED lights started snorting like a hungry dragon. I thought to myself, “That was such a nice visit…” Then my annoying work ethic said, “Get in there and get it done.” So I logged in to my fierce enemy, Data Director.
45 The screen had a brick wall with a sign on it that said something to the effect of “Sorry, Data Director is not available at this time.”
46 I smiled, winked, shut it all down, turned my hat slightly askew, and made my exit.
47 I don’t need to be told more than once. There are things at home much more important than that ridiculous nonsense. 
48 Have a great Thursday. I’ll slay that dragon later today. I’ll use my bazooka. Thank God for the Second Amendment.
49 See you again.
50 Peace.
www.xanga.com/bharrington
The Daily News1 I’m into the four a.m. watching this ridiculously hilarious film about a giant Venusian lizard that is terrorizing Italy. It is immune to bullets. What makes it funny it isn’t that much of a giant. It’s smaller than an elephant, making it one of the most low-budget monsters in cinematic history.2 It just got into a fight with an elephant.3 I’m not a betting man, but I’ll bet the monster wins.4 It has clung to the elephant like an enormous tick. They’re running through the streets of Rome in old-film jitterbug style. It has the elephant in a what looks like a half-nelson.5 DOWN GOES THE ELEPHANT!6 The creature is growing. It is suddenly enormous. Even though word is out that it is immune to bullets, military people who should know better continue to shoot at it. Continually.7 I came in at the end, but I had a feeling it would all go down to a final scene at the Roman Colosseum.8 There will be tanks, helicopters, and guys on huge walkies.9 The monster has found his way from Sicely to the Colosseum. Knock me over with a feather. He climbs to the top. He doesn’t seem too interested in girls, which is unusual for a monster.10 He gets to the top of the Colosseum; people are screaming; guns are being fired. They might as well try to bring the fellow down with marshmallows and whipped cream.11 Uh-oh. Looks like the military is going to the most dangerous weapon in the ’50′s: the stovepipe bazooka.12 The monster might be immune to bullets, but NOTHING is immune to bazookas in ’50′s monster movies.13 The monster takes a shot in the belly. He grabs his belly. He is reeling.14 Another bazooka shot. The monster saves himself by grabbing the top of the Colosseum.15 A woman’s scream.16 The monster falls, taking a huge chunk of the Colosseum with him, and is clearly dead on impact.17 One officer says to the other, “Why is it always, always so costly for Man to move from the present to the future?”18 The End.19 My favorite line: “Get that elephant out of here!”20 I watched it while trying to get my laptop to start. I’m convinced that electronic devices pick up on my negative vibes and shut down on me anytime I am stressed.21 And I have been stressed. Computers, School Loop, Data Director, among other deadline-important items all keep closing down, keep not saving things , keep posting “Under Construction” signs, and keep buffering when I am racing deadlines.22 It’s like they know.23 Moving on, Part One: Yesterday at a meeting one young teacher told us that they now have computer programs that could grade papers.24 These things are sure getting smart.25 I naturally began to wonder if they are smarter than we think.26 I began to wonder if someone is giving computers human qualities, injecting them with that childish urge to do practical jokes on random people.27 This has been a banner year for technological meltdowns.28 That probably explains my fascination with monster movies lately.29 So much worse can happen.30 Oh well. Like I always say, if that’s the worst of my problems, I got no problems.31 It’s sort of funny, because yesterday I was stressing my inability to reach a very important website so that I could once again run answer sheets for our Benchmark test, which was a huge thorn in the butt at the end of last semester.32 Computers. It’s funny. You have good vibes with certain programs, and bad vibes with others.33 It’s sort of like people.34 Anyway, I’m giving the test on tomorrow, and I KNOW that it takes an act of Congress for an old geezer like me to get the answer sheets off this irritating program called Data Director. I figured it out right before Christmas, and made a diving catch for a touchdown right before we left for break. I got those answer sheets done through the help of several colleagues, many as stumped as I with the procedures.35 Data Director recently changed their access procedures, so we had to go a different route to get these things than we did at Christmas. To make a long story longer, I was just about to log in when this student flew at my door, crashed into the rectangular window on the door, and dropped to the ground.36 I smiled, because I recognized the guy as a student I had last year. He was in my seventh period English 4 class, and came to visit with a girl who was also in the class.37 I instantly dropped everything I was doing and sat down for a lovely chat. We talked about all the goofballs from the class, and all the fun we had in the Spring, with Shakespeare, with poetry, with skits, and with my Cafe Verona day, when my room becomes a hip coffee house, complete with food, drinks, and yes, nickel-cups of coffee. We have a poetry reading with every student sharing a poem or two, and at the end of the period I strap on my guitar and sing a couple of songs, usually well-rehearsed. I have a mic and an amp to give it a live effect. Last year I did Simon and Garfunkel’s America, and a surprise for even myself, Punky’s Dilemma, a jewel of a song. The former students laughed, and their eyes twinkled with fond memories of a fun day. Data Director disappeared in an instant, replaced by laughter and warmth.38 Sometimes when I tell people I teach, they ask, “What do you teach?”39 In a rather non-condescending way I answer gently, “Students.”40 I may change that. I may say, “People.”41 I don’t really teach them though. I do when lecturing, but they teach me as well; it’s a two-way street.42 The chat found those two wonderful students and I simply exchanging all the good times we had in class, moving quite naturally to their hopes for the future, and to their dreams. And to my dreams as well.43 After they left I decided I was done for the day. It was such a nice visit!44 I turned and looked at my computer. The LED lights started snorting like a hungry dragon. I thought to myself, “That was such a nice visit…” Then my annoying work ethic said, “Get in there and get it done.” So I logged in to my fierce enemy, Data Director.45 The screen had a brick wall with a sign on it that said something to the effect of “Sorry, Data Director is not available at this time.”46 I smiled, winked, shut it all down, turned my hat slightly askew, and made my exit.47 I don’t need to be told more than once. There are things at home much more important than that ridiculous nonsense.
