Jump
The map was pretty clear about where we were. Where the boat was going had already been planned, and I was familiar with the waters. It was a comfortable feeling, knowing the trip ahead. Where we were going. What to expect. I was content.
About a hundred yards ahead there was a fork in the river. No bother, I thought. I know which path I'm going to choose, because that's the path this ship is sailing. I boarded this ship for a reason. I'm going to stick with it. I know these waters. I am content.
And besides, changing course is not an option. I'm not steering.
I glanced to the side and saw another ship, five feet away. Where did that ship come from? There was no warning of it at all.
The ship was different, certainly. Not at all what I knew, what I was used to. But nevertheless, there it was, sailing alongside the ship I was on. I realized I knew nothing about that ship or where it was going, really.
All I knew about that ship was that I could board it, if I chose to. Right now. I could cross the distance and sail down the other fork of the river. All it would take was a single sure-footed jump.
But what of the ship I was on? I would never see it again, in all likelihood. For it would pass from my sight immediately upon making the jump and sail on. Sail on into the waters I knew but could never return to.
Up ahead it was only 40 yards now. Only a matter of seconds until the second boat would be gone, for good. Only a matter of seconds until the new ship, the new path, the new river, and all that was down that fork would be forever left to my imagination.
I take back what I said before; I knew something about that second ship. I knew I was fond of it. I couldn't pinpoint why, but it was discernibly attractive. Obviously tempting.
Just one jump away.
One single jump.
Only ten yards now.
Five yards.
And one eternal moment later, the second boat is gone.
And I'm sailing in familiar waters.
And onward I pass through the fork, and away sails the second ship.
That night I gaze at the stars. I did not jump. I am on the ship on which I chose to sail. I am on the path I know. It makes sense.
Somewhere in the world is a second ship, under the same stars, and I can't help but wonder-
where should I have gone, if I had jumped?
August 26, 2007
August 22, 2007
New CD
I've sung this song before ... and thinking about it, I don't think I ever did come back. I left her at the tide.
But then again- does anyone ever really come back after they sail away?
when the light begins to fade
and shadows fall across the sea,
one bright star in the evening sky.
your love's light leads me on my way.
there's a dream that will not sleep,
a burning hope that will not die.
so I must go now with the wind,
and leave you waiting on the tide.
time to fly, time to touch the sky.
one voice alone, a haunting cry.
one song, one star burning bright,
may it carry me through darkest night.
rain comes over the gray hills,
and on the air, a soft goodbye.
hear the song that I sing to you
when the time has come to fly.
when I leave and take the wind
and find the land that faith will bring,
the brightest star in the evening sky
is yours to find for me.
-The Long Goodbye, Celtic Woman
I've sung this song before ... and thinking about it, I don't think I ever did come back. I left her at the tide.
But then again- does anyone ever really come back after they sail away?
when the light begins to fade
and shadows fall across the sea,
one bright star in the evening sky.
your love's light leads me on my way.
there's a dream that will not sleep,
a burning hope that will not die.
so I must go now with the wind,
and leave you waiting on the tide.
time to fly, time to touch the sky.
one voice alone, a haunting cry.
one song, one star burning bright,
may it carry me through darkest night.
rain comes over the gray hills,
and on the air, a soft goodbye.
hear the song that I sing to you
when the time has come to fly.
when I leave and take the wind
and find the land that faith will bring,
the brightest star in the evening sky
is yours to find for me.
-The Long Goodbye, Celtic Woman
August 16, 2007
August 12, 2007
The Sun over the Mountain
Just like that, we're down to the last weeks of summer. It's been a good one, for the most part. Work was educational, lucrative, and gave me a lot of help choosing my career path. Living here at the 467 has been even more informative; I'd like to think I was able to pass my man-training with fairly good results. In between there were trips, adventures, fun, friends, and once in a while a surprise or two. Who knew the choice to live at Lehigh would turn out to be so wise?
The thing that I want to take from this summer most, though, is the notion of what's important in life. The bottom line facing you every day is that for better or worse, the sun will set on today and will rise tomorrow. What you do during the hours in between determines who you are ... and more often than not, we focus on a lot of things that don't matter. If you skip an assignment, the sun will rise tomorrow. If you study a few minutes less, the sun will rise tomorrow. If you just flat out ignore all those nawing responsibilities you have in life, time will inevitably go on with or without you. Sure, there will be consequences, but you're the one who faces them. If you're ready to do that, whatever the consequences may be, then godspeed.
But, on the other hand, this idea can work against you. If you pass up the chance to see your friends, don't say something you need to, pass on an opportunity, say goodbye to someone, fail to call someone, stay angry in a fight, or walk out the door when you shouldn't ... the sun will rise tomorrow.
The trick to this is that the one constant in life is how fleeting it is. It goes back to some of the best advice I've ever received: "Figure out what makes you happy, and do it. Find out who makes you happy, and stay with them." As this relates to me ... I know that I don't want another year of strict academics and a deterministic adherence to getting work done. I don't want to sit in the lab hour after hour, day after day, watching the world go by. I want to be with the people in my life, learn who they are, make them laugh, and enjoy their company. It will take all the will power I have to actually turn off my desire to be the best and excel at my coursework all the time. But there's a balance to everything in life ... and it's about damn time I found it.
To this end, I am making a general declaration. Anytime this year, if you present me with a timely, reasonable proposition for fun or adventure, I am not allowed to decline it. Exceptions include the existence of plans of a similar nature or something that may affect the future (an exam, etc), but in general this will hold. My greatest motivation in life comes from the perception others have of me ... so in a way I'm partially relying on others to save me from myself. Remind me that I am a tool if I keep working and staying inside, question my manhood, and demand my presence at somewhere fun. I'll appreciate it more than you could know.
So that's my promise, watching the sun set on Bethlehem right now and counting down the hours to when senior year starts ...
I promise to live.
And, on a somewhat related note-
I promise to find courage.
Happy Sunday night.
Just like that, we're down to the last weeks of summer. It's been a good one, for the most part. Work was educational, lucrative, and gave me a lot of help choosing my career path. Living here at the 467 has been even more informative; I'd like to think I was able to pass my man-training with fairly good results. In between there were trips, adventures, fun, friends, and once in a while a surprise or two. Who knew the choice to live at Lehigh would turn out to be so wise?
The thing that I want to take from this summer most, though, is the notion of what's important in life. The bottom line facing you every day is that for better or worse, the sun will set on today and will rise tomorrow. What you do during the hours in between determines who you are ... and more often than not, we focus on a lot of things that don't matter. If you skip an assignment, the sun will rise tomorrow. If you study a few minutes less, the sun will rise tomorrow. If you just flat out ignore all those nawing responsibilities you have in life, time will inevitably go on with or without you. Sure, there will be consequences, but you're the one who faces them. If you're ready to do that, whatever the consequences may be, then godspeed.
But, on the other hand, this idea can work against you. If you pass up the chance to see your friends, don't say something you need to, pass on an opportunity, say goodbye to someone, fail to call someone, stay angry in a fight, or walk out the door when you shouldn't ... the sun will rise tomorrow.
The trick to this is that the one constant in life is how fleeting it is. It goes back to some of the best advice I've ever received: "Figure out what makes you happy, and do it. Find out who makes you happy, and stay with them." As this relates to me ... I know that I don't want another year of strict academics and a deterministic adherence to getting work done. I don't want to sit in the lab hour after hour, day after day, watching the world go by. I want to be with the people in my life, learn who they are, make them laugh, and enjoy their company. It will take all the will power I have to actually turn off my desire to be the best and excel at my coursework all the time. But there's a balance to everything in life ... and it's about damn time I found it.
To this end, I am making a general declaration. Anytime this year, if you present me with a timely, reasonable proposition for fun or adventure, I am not allowed to decline it. Exceptions include the existence of plans of a similar nature or something that may affect the future (an exam, etc), but in general this will hold. My greatest motivation in life comes from the perception others have of me ... so in a way I'm partially relying on others to save me from myself. Remind me that I am a tool if I keep working and staying inside, question my manhood, and demand my presence at somewhere fun. I'll appreciate it more than you could know.
So that's my promise, watching the sun set on Bethlehem right now and counting down the hours to when senior year starts ...
I promise to live.
And, on a somewhat related note-
I promise to find courage.
Happy Sunday night.
August 09, 2007
March Straight and True, to Victory ...
... for Holy Name Shall Always Be.
It's championship week for DCI, and this year my beloved Cadets are back among the top-seeded corps in the country. At the moment they're duking it out with the Blue Devils for the top spot, having bested them by a mere .025 points at their last meeting on Sunday. Tonight is quarterfinals, followed by semi's and the championship on Saturday. Win or lose, I can say that this year's corps had the best music and drill books since probably 2000. It also had, in my opinion, the best Cadets brass since 2001 (my, what three years under Gino Cipriani can do for a hornline).
One of the my favorite things about The Cadets, and drum corps in general, is the huge amount of history that surrounds the activity. Despite name and location changes, the corps still wears essentially the same uniform they did in the 30's, has maintained the same staff since the 80's, sings the same corps song they have since the 40's, and has thousands of alumni that cover every decade in between. One of those alumni is actually the reason I'm writing this entry ... according to The Cadets' website, the original drum major of the The Cadets has been found and will be attending the corps' championship show on Saturday night. The full article is here:
http://www.yea.org/site/News2?JServSessionIdr004=8l4pnj5o1b.app7b&page=NewsArticle&id=13984&news_iv_ctrl=1021
The implications behind this are staggering. 73 years ago, this man and several dozen of his colleagues at the Church of the Most Holy Name served as the founding members of the entire Cadets organization. What began as some kids in a youth group would go on to become one of the premier musical marching units in the world ... and all of that was only possible because of this man's work and leadership at the very beginning. It is because of him that all of us who came after were able to pursue excellence and maintain the traditions that were instilled back in 1934.
This story is what drum corps is all about. Although I was a single member of the hornline for one season, I can still proudly say that I am a Cadet for the rest of my life. I know the traditions and the history, what it is to wear the uniform, how it feels to perform, the emotion that runs through you when singing the song. And most importantly because of this connection, I can also feel a great sense of gratitude to Mr. John Baumfalk, DM '34, and all the Cadets who came before me.
So with that ... I say thank you, John. Without question, your diligent example and timeless efforts have changed my life.
Good luck to The Cadets in all three shows this weekend, with special wishes to the friends I could have been aging out with on Saturday. I might not have come back, but not a day goes by that I don't think of you and the corps.
Here's to 73 years- and who knows how many more- of the Maroon and Gold.
Amen.
... for Holy Name Shall Always Be.
It's championship week for DCI, and this year my beloved Cadets are back among the top-seeded corps in the country. At the moment they're duking it out with the Blue Devils for the top spot, having bested them by a mere .025 points at their last meeting on Sunday. Tonight is quarterfinals, followed by semi's and the championship on Saturday. Win or lose, I can say that this year's corps had the best music and drill books since probably 2000. It also had, in my opinion, the best Cadets brass since 2001 (my, what three years under Gino Cipriani can do for a hornline).
One of the my favorite things about The Cadets, and drum corps in general, is the huge amount of history that surrounds the activity. Despite name and location changes, the corps still wears essentially the same uniform they did in the 30's, has maintained the same staff since the 80's, sings the same corps song they have since the 40's, and has thousands of alumni that cover every decade in between. One of those alumni is actually the reason I'm writing this entry ... according to The Cadets' website, the original drum major of the The Cadets has been found and will be attending the corps' championship show on Saturday night. The full article is here:
http://www.yea.org/site/News2?JServSessionIdr004=8l4pnj5o1b.app7b&page=NewsArticle&id=13984&news_iv_ctrl=1021
The implications behind this are staggering. 73 years ago, this man and several dozen of his colleagues at the Church of the Most Holy Name served as the founding members of the entire Cadets organization. What began as some kids in a youth group would go on to become one of the premier musical marching units in the world ... and all of that was only possible because of this man's work and leadership at the very beginning. It is because of him that all of us who came after were able to pursue excellence and maintain the traditions that were instilled back in 1934.
This story is what drum corps is all about. Although I was a single member of the hornline for one season, I can still proudly say that I am a Cadet for the rest of my life. I know the traditions and the history, what it is to wear the uniform, how it feels to perform, the emotion that runs through you when singing the song. And most importantly because of this connection, I can also feel a great sense of gratitude to Mr. John Baumfalk, DM '34, and all the Cadets who came before me.
So with that ... I say thank you, John. Without question, your diligent example and timeless efforts have changed my life.
Good luck to The Cadets in all three shows this weekend, with special wishes to the friends I could have been aging out with on Saturday. I might not have come back, but not a day goes by that I don't think of you and the corps.
Here's to 73 years- and who knows how many more- of the Maroon and Gold.
Amen.
August 08, 2007
Legends Never Die
Legends of the Hidden Temple was easily one of my favorite TV shows when I was growing up. Even now I still consider it the pinnacle point of what I call the “Golden Age of Nickelodeon.” I’m sure if you think back, you can recall that glorious time, that amazing period, that Pax Romana of children’s entertainment. It was a time when Nicktoons like Rocko’s Modern Life and Doug ran several times a day. When shows like Double Dare kept us watching in horror at the random dad who couldn’t find an orange flag inside a giant nose filled with slime. When Silver Age shows like Pete and Pete and Salute Your Shorts could still be found. Who among us wasn’t moved when Artie selflessly fought the ocean, or when Donkeylips threatened to sit on Michael’s head and fart continuously? Oh, it was a hell of a time to be young, watching a popsicle stick with googley-eyes pander to your every whim …
But even now, looking back on all the best times we had, I think we can all agree that Legends was in a class all its own from the very start. No other game show required the same incredible berth of skills, or pit so many contenders against one another in such a bloody fashion. No other venue existed where knowledge was as important as might, or where a pedophile dressed like a Mayan could jump out from behind Styrofoam blocks and wrestle you into a dark corner. And certainly, nowhere else could you ever get away with being called a “Purple Parrot” without simultaneously being labeled as a homosexual.
With all this and more to remember, it makes sense why Legends has made its recent resurgence into popular college culture. It’s a pivotal part of our youth and a source of an almost infinite number of universally understood references. For those reasons and more, I now present an idea that I think could return the show to some semblance of its former grandeur and glory. So here goes ... the basic outline of Legends of the Hidden Temple, College Edition:
1. Kirk Fogg
The show cannot be brought back without first rehiring its only host, Kirk Fogg. Where Marc Summers was overtly enthusiastic and Moira Quark was courteously differential, Kirk Fogg often displayed nothing less than clear, unadulterated loathing for many of the contestants on Legends. Sure, he went through the trite blatherings and standard contrivances of all game show hosts, but deep down … you could just tell he hated his job, his life, and all the Green Monkeys that ever kept him from being the next Alex Trebec. The only time he showed even a hint of actual fondness for the players was during his awkward and overly tight hugs after each round of the Temple Games. Even then, it wasn’t so much a pleasantry as it was a sexual advance on a 12-year-old.
It is clear- for the show to return, Kirk Fogg and all his poorly handled depression and rage must return with it. His contribution to our memory and his overall influence on the show are just too strong to be replaced by anything but the original. And if I may say so, his entrance onto the sound stage must be as it always was. He needs to slide in on a rope, just like old times, because if you looked closely … that was the moment when he hated not just the contestants and the stupid-ass talking head, but the whole wide world that had made him the gigantic Mayan tool he would be forevermore.
2. New Teams
Obviously the six original teams (Orange Iguanas, Blue Barracudas, Red Jaguars, Green Monkeys, Purple Parrots, and Silver Snakes) must all return, but what about some new teams to root for? We’re not kids anymore … let’s get into some real, unfiltered representation of the human spirit. And don’t stop after simply adding new teams to rotate in- let’s opt for some controversy around them, too. I think we can all agree that something bland like the “Yellow Fire Ants” just plain sucks. So here are some team ideas I’ve been throwing around:
-the White Wasps
-the Black Panthers
-the Pink Douchebags
-the Stripped Streakers
Each of these teams brings out very different aspects of college life, and I think each of us can find reasons to get behind them and cheer as they struggle to cross the Moat or walk down the Steps of Knowledge. Of note are some of the distinctions they’ll be receiving to set them apart as special “College Edition” teams:
-The White Wasps come equipped with a completely unfounded, bitter attitude towards life, as well as a sense of jaded cynicism that in no way reflects their cushy suburban upbringing.
-The Black Panthers receive one additional weapon each time they win a round of the Temple Games (see below: Combat with the Temple Guards).
-The Pink Douchebags forego the typical contestant clothing (t-shirt and khaki shorts) in favor of a pink, popped polo and obnoxiously plaid golf shorts. The insignia on their shirt will not be an animal, but instead a large hand giving the Shocker.
-The Stripped Streakers participate in the entirety of Legends while naked. As such, minimal attractiveness requirements will be mandated for contestants on this team … score less than an 8 on the hotness scale and we shouldn’t have to watch your ugly ass climb a ladder inside the Temple. That’s just disgusting.
3. The Best Prizes of 1994
All prizes awarded at the various stages of the game will be the same as when Legends originally aired. Fail the Moat, and you win Hershey’s chocolate syrup. Fuck up the Steps of Knowledge, and you could win Nike pump-action sneakers. Lose in the Temple Games, and you’ll get a walkman that plays cassettes. And if, by the hand of Quetzalcoatl, you actually clear the Temple, you and your partner are going to fuckin’ Space Camp.
4. Alcohol as a Game Enhancer
The point of the Moat crossing was to immediately eliminate the theoretically dumbest, weakest, and shittiest teams from the competition. I mean, yeah … if you’re 11 and you can’t handle rowing an inner tube 12 feet across an indoor tank, you have no right to be within 100 feet of the Temple, let alone running it. The problem with the Moat was that the entire crossing would last maybe 20 seconds, making for an often anticlimactic and short-lived sense of excitement. In the worst case scenario, if two of the teams had members that fell in or did something especially retarded (forgot to hit the light-up buzzer, for example), the entire competition would actually become downright boring.
To counter the ineffectiveness of the original Moat crossing and to lengthen its total time, all teams will now be required to participate in two new activities before they can buzz in. The first begins half an hour before Kirk starts the race … both members of each team must take a number of Tequila shots determined by body weight. For every 35 pounds you weigh, you must take one shot in that time period. A dude weighing 220 pounds, then, would be required to take 6 shots minimum in the 30 minutes leading up to the crossing. Combine this with the new pool length (60 feet) and suddenly crossing it becomes not a matter of seconds, but whole minutes or even hours.
The second activity in the Moat Crossing is the preliminary construction of a mini Silver Monkey Statue upon reaching the opposite shore. This is essentially screening to ensure that, if your team runs the Temple, you will not fuck up and deface the Shrine of the Silver Monkey. There is no worse sin than placing the monkey’s head before its torso, and you will be penalized severely for it if you make such a mistake (see below: Ways to Die inside the Temple).
5. Pimpin’ Olmec
The Steps of Knowledge separated those contestants with the ability to pay attention for 30 seconds from those who could not. Minimal changes will be made here, except for the following:
-you must take a shot for each step you descend down the stairs (three for the win)
-puking on the steps of knowledge (due to the 6-10 shots you’ve now consumed) will result in Olmec calling you out for however long he wants; during that time he may insult your mother, heritage, sexual orientation, manliness, penis size, breast size, ugliness, and anything else pertaining to you or your inability to hold your booze
-Olmec’s stories are now entirely pornographic in nature; as such, Temple treasures will now include such rare finds as "The Dildo of Jenna Jameson” and “The Cock Ring of Ron Jeremy”
-Olmec will no longer respond with “that is incorrect” if a wrong answer is given. Instead he may choose from a list of insults ranging from “That taste in your mouth is cock” to “You know how I know you’re gay?”
6. Battling the Temple Guards
The Temple Games will remain largely intact … in fact, the various apparatuses used to play them will not be changed at all. They will be left at their original size, construction, and load capacity. Figuring out how to not die on the climbing wall when your rope’s stress limit is half your weight will add an entirely new dimension to the Games. The creepy spotters will also return to ensure that you are sufficiently fondled and groped as you attempt to drop balls in the bucket while spinning on a one-sided seesaw meant to hold less than 100 pounds.
Note: If that last sentence doesn’t sum up all the glory and absolute ridiculousness of the show itself, I don’t know what does.
The biggest change to the Temple Games will be the prizes rewarded for victory. Instead of receiving Pendants of Life (used to ward off Temple Guards), winners will now receive weapons chosen from a randomized stock. This is due to the fact that, instead of being able to exchange a pendant for your life, contestants must now battle any encountered Temple Guards to the death. Temple Guards will receive standardized equipment including blow darts, a crossbow, a scimitar, and a small shield. The contestant weapons will be drawn from a Battle Royale-style cache, ranging from the horrible (trash can lid) to the suicidal (flamethrower inside the wood/plastic Temple):
-trash can lid
-3” knife
-hatchet
-grenade
-slingshot
-9 mm handgun
-uzi
-broken bottle
-broadsword
-small flamethrower
-mace (spray)
-mace (medieval)
-trident
7. Other Ways to Die Inside the Temple
Running the Temple was always the best part of the show, but so often even the best runs would end in an upsetting, unworthy fashion. An uncoordinated contestant would get trapped in the ball pit, or wouldn’t press the actuators in the observatory the right way, or wouldn’t understand how many doors existed in a room. This type of ineptitude might have been fine for 12-year-olds, but we’re not dealing with kids now. The College Edition Temple, while largely the same as the original, demands respect, ability, and knowledge from those who pass through its sacred gates.
In an effort to correct this lack of humility before a place of such innate power and wisdom, the dynamics of the Temple itself have changed. Yes, you still must earn the right to enter … but, more importantly, you must now also earn the right to leave. Transgress in any of the following ways and guess what ... your ass is toast.
-As mentioned above, Temple Guards are still the crazy pedophiles they once were, but now they must be killed before you may continue your journey. If you’re the first runner and are killed in combat, the Temple Guard will vanish and the second runner will begin. Also, do not scavenge equipment from a fallen Temple Spirit. Dishonoring them that way will unleash the other two Guards who will immediately begin pursuing you like raptors.
-Tripping on your way up the Temple gate’s steps will result in columns of flame shooting up out of the steps themselves. Far too many contestants looked like silly assholes before they even made it into the Temple … for that mistake you will now be incinerated alive.
-Being confused inside the Temple is no longer acceptable as a reason for failure. You should know the requirements, characteristics, exits, and entrances for each of the 15 Temple layouts and 46 Temple rooms. Find the key and proper slot in The King’s Storeroom, and you should not have to waste even a second figuring out which door or hatch opened. To amend this sort of delay, once the requirements for a room are met, you have exactly 4 seconds to move on. Taking longer than that will result in a hail of bullets flying through the room, ostensibly killing or mortally wounding anyone inside.
Exceptions to this rule include those contestants who are actively battling Temple Guards when a room’s requirements are met. Killing you then would just be dick.
-The Altar of Sacrifice is a new room, inspired by the arcane Aztec rituals that inspired the show itself. In order to pass through the room you must destroy something in the fires of the Altar. Depending upon the nature of your sacrifice, you may be directed forward, backward, or straight to the treasure. The options are as follows:
Sacrificing your weapon(s) in the Altar will give you either an indirect path or nothing. It also guarantees at least some injury when battling the guards from then on.
Sacrificing a body part will open the next room.
Sacrificing your life will open all the doors of the Temple (this option is available only to first runners or very stupid second runners).
-Lastly and most importantly, the Shrine of the Silver Monkey is now considered the most holy and high room of the Temple. Dishonoring the Monkey, as so many contestants did, will now bring swift and inescapable death. From the moment you enter the room you will have exactly 12 seconds to obtain the Monkey’s parts and construct Him properly on the first try. Mismatching any parts or missing this time limit will result in the room suddenly being sealed off behind a glass barrier and filled with mustard gas. As an added consequence, your waiting teammate will be simultaneously shot in the head by Kirk Fogg.
In short, The Silver Monkey doesn't fuck around anymore.
So there you have it … Legends of the Hidden Temple, College Edition. Despite (or because of) the increased amount of violence, substance abuse, and sexual content, I really think that this show idea is worth pursuing. I mean, wouldn’t you be willing to sit down and watch a group of your peers undergo this kind of torture? Or better yet, wouldn’t you love the chance to compete again yourself- if not for sheer glory, then for the chance at going to Space Camp and earning a kick-ass animal T-shirt? The chance to be touched inappropriately by Kirk Fogg and be belittled by a giant plush head? The chance to finally strike back against those Megan’s Law-hating Temple Guards?
I know I would.
Oh well ... here's to the dreams and legends of our youth.
Green Monkeys 4-eva.
Legends of the Hidden Temple was easily one of my favorite TV shows when I was growing up. Even now I still consider it the pinnacle point of what I call the “Golden Age of Nickelodeon.” I’m sure if you think back, you can recall that glorious time, that amazing period, that Pax Romana of children’s entertainment. It was a time when Nicktoons like Rocko’s Modern Life and Doug ran several times a day. When shows like Double Dare kept us watching in horror at the random dad who couldn’t find an orange flag inside a giant nose filled with slime. When Silver Age shows like Pete and Pete and Salute Your Shorts could still be found. Who among us wasn’t moved when Artie selflessly fought the ocean, or when Donkeylips threatened to sit on Michael’s head and fart continuously? Oh, it was a hell of a time to be young, watching a popsicle stick with googley-eyes pander to your every whim …
But even now, looking back on all the best times we had, I think we can all agree that Legends was in a class all its own from the very start. No other game show required the same incredible berth of skills, or pit so many contenders against one another in such a bloody fashion. No other venue existed where knowledge was as important as might, or where a pedophile dressed like a Mayan could jump out from behind Styrofoam blocks and wrestle you into a dark corner. And certainly, nowhere else could you ever get away with being called a “Purple Parrot” without simultaneously being labeled as a homosexual.
With all this and more to remember, it makes sense why Legends has made its recent resurgence into popular college culture. It’s a pivotal part of our youth and a source of an almost infinite number of universally understood references. For those reasons and more, I now present an idea that I think could return the show to some semblance of its former grandeur and glory. So here goes ... the basic outline of Legends of the Hidden Temple, College Edition:
1. Kirk Fogg
The show cannot be brought back without first rehiring its only host, Kirk Fogg. Where Marc Summers was overtly enthusiastic and Moira Quark was courteously differential, Kirk Fogg often displayed nothing less than clear, unadulterated loathing for many of the contestants on Legends. Sure, he went through the trite blatherings and standard contrivances of all game show hosts, but deep down … you could just tell he hated his job, his life, and all the Green Monkeys that ever kept him from being the next Alex Trebec. The only time he showed even a hint of actual fondness for the players was during his awkward and overly tight hugs after each round of the Temple Games. Even then, it wasn’t so much a pleasantry as it was a sexual advance on a 12-year-old.
It is clear- for the show to return, Kirk Fogg and all his poorly handled depression and rage must return with it. His contribution to our memory and his overall influence on the show are just too strong to be replaced by anything but the original. And if I may say so, his entrance onto the sound stage must be as it always was. He needs to slide in on a rope, just like old times, because if you looked closely … that was the moment when he hated not just the contestants and the stupid-ass talking head, but the whole wide world that had made him the gigantic Mayan tool he would be forevermore.
2. New Teams
Obviously the six original teams (Orange Iguanas, Blue Barracudas, Red Jaguars, Green Monkeys, Purple Parrots, and Silver Snakes) must all return, but what about some new teams to root for? We’re not kids anymore … let’s get into some real, unfiltered representation of the human spirit. And don’t stop after simply adding new teams to rotate in- let’s opt for some controversy around them, too. I think we can all agree that something bland like the “Yellow Fire Ants” just plain sucks. So here are some team ideas I’ve been throwing around:
-the White Wasps
-the Black Panthers
-the Pink Douchebags
-the Stripped Streakers
Each of these teams brings out very different aspects of college life, and I think each of us can find reasons to get behind them and cheer as they struggle to cross the Moat or walk down the Steps of Knowledge. Of note are some of the distinctions they’ll be receiving to set them apart as special “College Edition” teams:
-The White Wasps come equipped with a completely unfounded, bitter attitude towards life, as well as a sense of jaded cynicism that in no way reflects their cushy suburban upbringing.
-The Black Panthers receive one additional weapon each time they win a round of the Temple Games (see below: Combat with the Temple Guards).
-The Pink Douchebags forego the typical contestant clothing (t-shirt and khaki shorts) in favor of a pink, popped polo and obnoxiously plaid golf shorts. The insignia on their shirt will not be an animal, but instead a large hand giving the Shocker.
-The Stripped Streakers participate in the entirety of Legends while naked. As such, minimal attractiveness requirements will be mandated for contestants on this team … score less than an 8 on the hotness scale and we shouldn’t have to watch your ugly ass climb a ladder inside the Temple. That’s just disgusting.
3. The Best Prizes of 1994
All prizes awarded at the various stages of the game will be the same as when Legends originally aired. Fail the Moat, and you win Hershey’s chocolate syrup. Fuck up the Steps of Knowledge, and you could win Nike pump-action sneakers. Lose in the Temple Games, and you’ll get a walkman that plays cassettes. And if, by the hand of Quetzalcoatl, you actually clear the Temple, you and your partner are going to fuckin’ Space Camp.
4. Alcohol as a Game Enhancer
The point of the Moat crossing was to immediately eliminate the theoretically dumbest, weakest, and shittiest teams from the competition. I mean, yeah … if you’re 11 and you can’t handle rowing an inner tube 12 feet across an indoor tank, you have no right to be within 100 feet of the Temple, let alone running it. The problem with the Moat was that the entire crossing would last maybe 20 seconds, making for an often anticlimactic and short-lived sense of excitement. In the worst case scenario, if two of the teams had members that fell in or did something especially retarded (forgot to hit the light-up buzzer, for example), the entire competition would actually become downright boring.
To counter the ineffectiveness of the original Moat crossing and to lengthen its total time, all teams will now be required to participate in two new activities before they can buzz in. The first begins half an hour before Kirk starts the race … both members of each team must take a number of Tequila shots determined by body weight. For every 35 pounds you weigh, you must take one shot in that time period. A dude weighing 220 pounds, then, would be required to take 6 shots minimum in the 30 minutes leading up to the crossing. Combine this with the new pool length (60 feet) and suddenly crossing it becomes not a matter of seconds, but whole minutes or even hours.
The second activity in the Moat Crossing is the preliminary construction of a mini Silver Monkey Statue upon reaching the opposite shore. This is essentially screening to ensure that, if your team runs the Temple, you will not fuck up and deface the Shrine of the Silver Monkey. There is no worse sin than placing the monkey’s head before its torso, and you will be penalized severely for it if you make such a mistake (see below: Ways to Die inside the Temple).
5. Pimpin’ Olmec
The Steps of Knowledge separated those contestants with the ability to pay attention for 30 seconds from those who could not. Minimal changes will be made here, except for the following:
-you must take a shot for each step you descend down the stairs (three for the win)
-puking on the steps of knowledge (due to the 6-10 shots you’ve now consumed) will result in Olmec calling you out for however long he wants; during that time he may insult your mother, heritage, sexual orientation, manliness, penis size, breast size, ugliness, and anything else pertaining to you or your inability to hold your booze
-Olmec’s stories are now entirely pornographic in nature; as such, Temple treasures will now include such rare finds as "The Dildo of Jenna Jameson” and “The Cock Ring of Ron Jeremy”
-Olmec will no longer respond with “that is incorrect” if a wrong answer is given. Instead he may choose from a list of insults ranging from “That taste in your mouth is cock” to “You know how I know you’re gay?”
6. Battling the Temple Guards
The Temple Games will remain largely intact … in fact, the various apparatuses used to play them will not be changed at all. They will be left at their original size, construction, and load capacity. Figuring out how to not die on the climbing wall when your rope’s stress limit is half your weight will add an entirely new dimension to the Games. The creepy spotters will also return to ensure that you are sufficiently fondled and groped as you attempt to drop balls in the bucket while spinning on a one-sided seesaw meant to hold less than 100 pounds.
Note: If that last sentence doesn’t sum up all the glory and absolute ridiculousness of the show itself, I don’t know what does.
The biggest change to the Temple Games will be the prizes rewarded for victory. Instead of receiving Pendants of Life (used to ward off Temple Guards), winners will now receive weapons chosen from a randomized stock. This is due to the fact that, instead of being able to exchange a pendant for your life, contestants must now battle any encountered Temple Guards to the death. Temple Guards will receive standardized equipment including blow darts, a crossbow, a scimitar, and a small shield. The contestant weapons will be drawn from a Battle Royale-style cache, ranging from the horrible (trash can lid) to the suicidal (flamethrower inside the wood/plastic Temple):
-trash can lid
-3” knife
-hatchet
-grenade
-slingshot
-9 mm handgun
-uzi
-broken bottle
-broadsword
-small flamethrower
-mace (spray)
-mace (medieval)
-trident
7. Other Ways to Die Inside the Temple
Running the Temple was always the best part of the show, but so often even the best runs would end in an upsetting, unworthy fashion. An uncoordinated contestant would get trapped in the ball pit, or wouldn’t press the actuators in the observatory the right way, or wouldn’t understand how many doors existed in a room. This type of ineptitude might have been fine for 12-year-olds, but we’re not dealing with kids now. The College Edition Temple, while largely the same as the original, demands respect, ability, and knowledge from those who pass through its sacred gates.
In an effort to correct this lack of humility before a place of such innate power and wisdom, the dynamics of the Temple itself have changed. Yes, you still must earn the right to enter … but, more importantly, you must now also earn the right to leave. Transgress in any of the following ways and guess what ... your ass is toast.
-As mentioned above, Temple Guards are still the crazy pedophiles they once were, but now they must be killed before you may continue your journey. If you’re the first runner and are killed in combat, the Temple Guard will vanish and the second runner will begin. Also, do not scavenge equipment from a fallen Temple Spirit. Dishonoring them that way will unleash the other two Guards who will immediately begin pursuing you like raptors.
-Tripping on your way up the Temple gate’s steps will result in columns of flame shooting up out of the steps themselves. Far too many contestants looked like silly assholes before they even made it into the Temple … for that mistake you will now be incinerated alive.
-Being confused inside the Temple is no longer acceptable as a reason for failure. You should know the requirements, characteristics, exits, and entrances for each of the 15 Temple layouts and 46 Temple rooms. Find the key and proper slot in The King’s Storeroom, and you should not have to waste even a second figuring out which door or hatch opened. To amend this sort of delay, once the requirements for a room are met, you have exactly 4 seconds to move on. Taking longer than that will result in a hail of bullets flying through the room, ostensibly killing or mortally wounding anyone inside.
Exceptions to this rule include those contestants who are actively battling Temple Guards when a room’s requirements are met. Killing you then would just be dick.
-The Altar of Sacrifice is a new room, inspired by the arcane Aztec rituals that inspired the show itself. In order to pass through the room you must destroy something in the fires of the Altar. Depending upon the nature of your sacrifice, you may be directed forward, backward, or straight to the treasure. The options are as follows:
Sacrificing your weapon(s) in the Altar will give you either an indirect path or nothing. It also guarantees at least some injury when battling the guards from then on.
Sacrificing a body part will open the next room.
Sacrificing your life will open all the doors of the Temple (this option is available only to first runners or very stupid second runners).
-Lastly and most importantly, the Shrine of the Silver Monkey is now considered the most holy and high room of the Temple. Dishonoring the Monkey, as so many contestants did, will now bring swift and inescapable death. From the moment you enter the room you will have exactly 12 seconds to obtain the Monkey’s parts and construct Him properly on the first try. Mismatching any parts or missing this time limit will result in the room suddenly being sealed off behind a glass barrier and filled with mustard gas. As an added consequence, your waiting teammate will be simultaneously shot in the head by Kirk Fogg.
In short, The Silver Monkey doesn't fuck around anymore.
So there you have it … Legends of the Hidden Temple, College Edition. Despite (or because of) the increased amount of violence, substance abuse, and sexual content, I really think that this show idea is worth pursuing. I mean, wouldn’t you be willing to sit down and watch a group of your peers undergo this kind of torture? Or better yet, wouldn’t you love the chance to compete again yourself- if not for sheer glory, then for the chance at going to Space Camp and earning a kick-ass animal T-shirt? The chance to be touched inappropriately by Kirk Fogg and be belittled by a giant plush head? The chance to finally strike back against those Megan’s Law-hating Temple Guards?
I know I would.
Oh well ... here's to the dreams and legends of our youth.
Green Monkeys 4-eva.
August 06, 2007
Rubicon
I don’t want to go. I’m expecting a call from my girlfriend, and there’s homework I should be doing.
“It’s Saturday night. Have you always been like this?”
Like what?
“Such a worrier. You sound like my dad.”
Probably. But I still don’t think we should go.
“Well I’m going and you can stay here if you want to.”
I’m not letting you go alone.
“Then grab your keys and follow me.”
We left the dorm and slowly descended the still unfamiliar campus, made even more alien by the darkness of the night around us. Light from the city below us began to glow with greater intensity as we traveled, although my fear only became heightened as we emerged from the dark. Eventually we were passing shops and restaurants, all closed and uninviting in the orange glimmer of Bethlehem’s street lamps. I glanced behind us every minute or so as we walked, scanning the street for anyone nearby.
“You’re really uncomfortable around here, aren’t you?”
I’ve heard it’s not that safe in the city.
“How much time have you spent in cities?”
I’ve visited Manhattan and Philly a couple times.
“Never mind. Just keep going, I can see the bridge.”
The underpass leading to the bridge stairs was covered in countless layers of graffiti. At least a dozen indiscernible names and symbols tainted each cement slab. I was relieved to reach the comparably refreshing air of the bridge surface when we emerged from the top of the staircase.
We walked in silence across the bridge, strolling along the thin paved line between rushing traffic and the distant sound of slowly flowing water. The city lights illuminated the river’s surface- we must have been about thirty feet up. The deep blackness beneath the reflected orange dots gave no indication of how deep the river went. She responded to my unspoken question.
“I heard the river’s only two feet deep in the summer.”
Which would make a jump from this bridge suicidal, theoretically. Not exactly the guaranteed results of the Cornell cliffs, but handy to know.
We reached the opposite side of the bridge and crossed the road. She darted into the trees on the far side and was quickly lost from sight.
“Almost there! Come on!”
I followed her into the sticky wetness of the September night. Thorns grazed my feet and calves as spider webs collapsed around my face. A buzzing in my ear distracted me from walking and I nearly tripped on an exposed tree root.
It occurred to me as we went that the forest was sloping upward at a fairly steep angle. After a minute or so I realized we’d climbed at least a story. The exertion of the act was confirmed as I felt sweat begin to slide down my temples.
This isn’t exactly what I had planned for my Saturday night.
Where are we going?
“The best view in town.”
I saw her silhouette emerge from the damp pine smell and quickly dash left. I followed in time to see her round the side of a building.
When I caught up to her I was greeted by an open stone plaza with a concrete ledge at the far end. The only light supplied to the place was moonlight, and a warm breeze floated on the air. She was standing on the ledge facing back to where we came from, over the bridge.
“Get up here and take a look.”
I joined her on the ledge and peered out, regretting my lack of glasses.
Before us was the entirety of the mountain. At the base was the city, beaming that artificial pumpkin glow that turns the sky a dark salmon and blocks out the stars. Above the city were the hallowed halls of the university, some buildings dotted with yellow windows where maintenance men were still working. Climbing higher still were the dorms, more fully aglow in the life and revelry of the first weekend of the semester. Tree-shaped blackness outlined the top slope of the mountain against the night sky.
From this side, you could actually see the stars.
“We have four years here. There’s so much we’re going to do before we leave.”
It’s going to be gone before we know what happened.
“Don’t talk like that. We’ve been here for a week and already it feels like home. We can finally make decisions here, learn real things here, figure out who we are here!”
Feels like home, maybe to you. I’m not sure about this place yet.
“You just need to relax, go with the flow! Have some fun.”
There’s homework I should be doing.
“Keep that attitude and you’re going to hate it here.”
…
It is a pretty beautiful view.
“I know … I came here during the day when my parents and I visited and I always wanted to come back at night. Do you think it was worth the walk now?”
It was.
What were you saying about figuring stuff out?
“Well, that’s the thing that’s so cool. We can be whoever or whatever we want. Starting now. No one knows who we were or where we came from. We can choose … everything.”
I looked at the stars.
Really?
“Yep.”
And we sat and felt the breeze and gazed out over the river at our new home.
I don’t want to go. I’m expecting a call from my girlfriend, and there’s homework I should be doing.
“It’s Saturday night. Have you always been like this?”
Like what?
“Such a worrier. You sound like my dad.”
Probably. But I still don’t think we should go.
“Well I’m going and you can stay here if you want to.”
I’m not letting you go alone.
“Then grab your keys and follow me.”
We left the dorm and slowly descended the still unfamiliar campus, made even more alien by the darkness of the night around us. Light from the city below us began to glow with greater intensity as we traveled, although my fear only became heightened as we emerged from the dark. Eventually we were passing shops and restaurants, all closed and uninviting in the orange glimmer of Bethlehem’s street lamps. I glanced behind us every minute or so as we walked, scanning the street for anyone nearby.
“You’re really uncomfortable around here, aren’t you?”
I’ve heard it’s not that safe in the city.
“How much time have you spent in cities?”
I’ve visited Manhattan and Philly a couple times.
“Never mind. Just keep going, I can see the bridge.”
The underpass leading to the bridge stairs was covered in countless layers of graffiti. At least a dozen indiscernible names and symbols tainted each cement slab. I was relieved to reach the comparably refreshing air of the bridge surface when we emerged from the top of the staircase.
We walked in silence across the bridge, strolling along the thin paved line between rushing traffic and the distant sound of slowly flowing water. The city lights illuminated the river’s surface- we must have been about thirty feet up. The deep blackness beneath the reflected orange dots gave no indication of how deep the river went. She responded to my unspoken question.
“I heard the river’s only two feet deep in the summer.”
Which would make a jump from this bridge suicidal, theoretically. Not exactly the guaranteed results of the Cornell cliffs, but handy to know.
We reached the opposite side of the bridge and crossed the road. She darted into the trees on the far side and was quickly lost from sight.
“Almost there! Come on!”
I followed her into the sticky wetness of the September night. Thorns grazed my feet and calves as spider webs collapsed around my face. A buzzing in my ear distracted me from walking and I nearly tripped on an exposed tree root.
It occurred to me as we went that the forest was sloping upward at a fairly steep angle. After a minute or so I realized we’d climbed at least a story. The exertion of the act was confirmed as I felt sweat begin to slide down my temples.
This isn’t exactly what I had planned for my Saturday night.
Where are we going?
“The best view in town.”
I saw her silhouette emerge from the damp pine smell and quickly dash left. I followed in time to see her round the side of a building.
When I caught up to her I was greeted by an open stone plaza with a concrete ledge at the far end. The only light supplied to the place was moonlight, and a warm breeze floated on the air. She was standing on the ledge facing back to where we came from, over the bridge.
“Get up here and take a look.”
I joined her on the ledge and peered out, regretting my lack of glasses.
Before us was the entirety of the mountain. At the base was the city, beaming that artificial pumpkin glow that turns the sky a dark salmon and blocks out the stars. Above the city were the hallowed halls of the university, some buildings dotted with yellow windows where maintenance men were still working. Climbing higher still were the dorms, more fully aglow in the life and revelry of the first weekend of the semester. Tree-shaped blackness outlined the top slope of the mountain against the night sky.
From this side, you could actually see the stars.
“We have four years here. There’s so much we’re going to do before we leave.”
It’s going to be gone before we know what happened.
“Don’t talk like that. We’ve been here for a week and already it feels like home. We can finally make decisions here, learn real things here, figure out who we are here!”
Feels like home, maybe to you. I’m not sure about this place yet.
“You just need to relax, go with the flow! Have some fun.”
There’s homework I should be doing.
“Keep that attitude and you’re going to hate it here.”
…
It is a pretty beautiful view.
“I know … I came here during the day when my parents and I visited and I always wanted to come back at night. Do you think it was worth the walk now?”
It was.
What were you saying about figuring stuff out?
“Well, that’s the thing that’s so cool. We can be whoever or whatever we want. Starting now. No one knows who we were or where we came from. We can choose … everything.”
I looked at the stars.
Really?
“Yep.”
And we sat and felt the breeze and gazed out over the river at our new home.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)