After moving from Blogger to Squarespace, I didn't anticipate moving my personal blog to another platform for quite some time. But sometimes, you get seduced when you don't expect it.

During the holiday break, I started playing with Posterous, and quickly became enamored. I love that I can post via e-mail, and can include audio and video clips rather easily. (The audio is especially appealing, since finding a satisfactory audio player has been difficult.)

So for the second time in less than six months, I'm moving my blog. You can now find me at The Casselbloggy (or at http://casselberry.posterous.com). I've actually been posting stuff over there for the last week or so, but realized I never made an announcement here. So if you've been clicking back here (as my friend A. has), hoping for some fresh content, I apologize. (And if you're someone who reads via RSS, here's my new feed.)

I probably never gave Squarespace a fair chance, but when you get that feeling, you just have to go with it. One thing I don't like about Posterous is that I can't install much sidebar content, and that's something I spent quite a bit of time working on in here. But I don't know how many people check out blogrolls anymore. And as much as I love Flash and Javascript widgets (especially my beloved Twitter widget), they tend to make a site load slower.

(I intend to keep iancasselberry.com alive. But it'll be more of what I originally intended: an archive of my work, an online resume, sort of a one-stop shop. In other words, a website, not just a blog. Now I just have to put some actual work into that.)

Once again, thank you for sticking with me as I keep moving around. Now that I'm not blogging at Bless You Boys full-time anymore, I plan to do a lot more writing. I'd like the new blog to be a bit more "stream of thought," with posts on all sorts of subjects - articles I've read, movie reviews, podcast clips, etc. - rather than "this is what I've decided to write about today." That approach always kept me going at BYB, and I don't see why it can't work here. 

So please follow me over to The Casselbloggy (or the new RSS feed). And I should probably mention that you can also find me on Twitter and Facebook. I'll try my best to keep you entertained and informed enough to check back regularly. 

I'm pretty sure this is why I can never see The Lovely Bones. (Nor The Happening, which is making the rounds on HBO.) The whole time, I'd be thinking of Andy Samberg's version of Mark Wahlberg.

Rob, say hi to your mother for me, okay?

Maybe Mark Wahlberg can be on "What Up With That?" eventually (and try - but fail - to keep up with Jason Sudeikis's sweet dance moves.)

Today, I was going through my father's office, beginning with his bookshelf. And I never realized he had so many books about writing. These are just a handful (apologies for the photo quality; the lighting in the room wasn't very good):

Dad always was a stickler for good English. I knew that. One of the last gifts I ever bought for him was Eats, Shoots & Leaves. And he ticked me off a couple of times when he'd read a story or essay of mine and point out grammatical mistakes, rather than give me feedback on character or structure.

But I still had no idea he felt so strongly (or perhaps was so insecure) about writing well to almost fill up an entire bookshelf in his office. This will be added to the list of conversations I wish we'd had before he died. (I can only imagine what he would've thought of the work I've managed to publish since then.)

Bowden was the coach of West Virginia in 1970, when Marshall University was trying to rebuild its football program after nearly all of the team's players and coaches were killed in an airplane crash. When Marshall's new coaches wanted to run the same sort of offense WVU was known for, Bowden allowed them access to playbooks and game films. WVU also wore tributes to Marshall on their helmets.

I'd like to think football coaches would do that sort of thing today (they'd likely pay tribute on their helmets), but given the level of secrecy and competitiveness in big-time college football, I'm not so sure many would show the same compassion.

But what I liked most about Bowden is that the guy seemed to have fun coaching football. I know it's serious work, with a punishing schedule, but is it really as life-or-death as so many coaches make it seem? (Of course, Bowden probably wasn't doing much actual coaching in recent years, letting his assistants do the grinding work, so maybe that's why he seemed so "dadgum" jolly.)

Still, Florida State has been one of the powerhouse programs as long as I've been a college football fan. When the Seminoles came to Ann Arbor to play Michigan back in 1991, that was a big deal. (So was the Desmond Howard-Terrell Buckley match-up.) I can't quite believe they've fallen into mediocrity. (I was referring to Florida State, not Michigan, but I guess that applies to both schools now.)

Obviously, that's the main reason Bowden is "retiring." It's too bad he didn't step aside before being nudged out the door.

By the way, if Florida State and West Virginia can play each other in the Gator Bowl for Bowden's final game, that would be a wonderful ending. Hopefully, that can happen.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt's fabulously energetic opening monologue is also well worth your time, if you missed it. But "Will you kiss me? I like to be kissed when someone is doing sex to me!" made the night. Painfully funny, because it's so true.

It's too bad Fred Armisen has completely given up on trying to hone his imitation of Barack Obama, however.

What a disaster.  Seeds popped out everywhere.   Juice dripped all over the counter.   There was slipping.  There were sticky fingers.  (Thankfully, no stained t-shirt.) 

The seeds were tasty, and I'm sure I got my proper dose of antioxidants that day.  But the ordeal to get them took away from the enjoyment.  By the time it was all done, I wished I'd just eaten an apple instead. 

Maybe I'll try again some other time, now that I'm better informed.

I don't know if this new version is going to be any good, judging from the ads and "first look" that's been posted online.  But seeing that red, spray-painted "V" is sure bringing back a lot of memories. 

Anything sci-fi on TV appealed to me as a kid.  And "V" had everything on the checklist: laser guns, spaceships, and aliens.  Between this and The Beastmaster (hilariously brought back to life last week by Chevy Chase on Community), Marc Singer seemed like one of the coolest guys alive.  Jane Badler, hot villainess (though I wonder if more people thought Faye Grant was hotter since she was a "good guy").

I always loved the scenes in which when one of the Visitors got their human face peeled off and you could see the lizard underneath.  In art class, my friend Chris put some Elmer's Glue on his cheek, let it dry, and peeled it off like it was his skin.  Ah... elementary school.  Those were the days.

So this remake has plenty to live up to.  For instance, will they have any scene (or special effect) as awesome (in a bad way) as this?

I swear, that seemed much more real when I was 10 years old. 

Oh, and how about this for a memorably creepy scene?  I remember my dad being kind of skeeved out by the very last part.  (Again, this probably seemed much scarier or icky 25 years ago.)

Casting Morena Baccarin from Firefly in this new series helps with the geek cred.  (Is Nathan Fillion kind of the 2009 version of Marc Singer?)  But will the show be as memorable?  (Probably not.  There's just too much else on TV and in pop culture nowadays.) 

Sometimes, remakes like this make the mistake of sticking too close to the original.  Other times, they veer too far from the source material.  And once in a while, they get it just right - nodding to the past, while creating something new - like J.J. Abrams did with Star Trek this summer.  Just give us some lizards and lasers, man!

You'd think Commissioner Gordon would be onto Batman's act by now.  And I watched a cartoon over the weekend where Batman pulled the vanishing act on Superman, too.  That doesn't seem possible.  I mean, he's Superman.  (Although Batman is probably just that good.  The cartoon, unfortunately, was not.)

To commemorate the 15th anniversary of The Crow, MTV's "Splash Page" blog ran a five-part series this week, devoted to the film's development and impact.  And what better time to run it than leading up to "Devil's Night," a central setting of the story. 

(The realization that it's been 15 years since I saw The Crow in theaters is one of several anniversaries that have reminded me of how old I'm getting.  20 years since an earthquake interrupted the World Series.  20 years since Nine Inch Nails' "Pretty Hate Machine" was released.)

Even though Tim Burton's two Batman films had come out before The Crow, this felt like the first time a comic book really came to life on the screen.  The iconic imagery of the hero perched atop a building, prowling, watching.  (How could a Batman movie not have Batman doing that?  Christopher Nolan got that right 16 years later.)  The kinetic energy of him running across rooftops, leaping over alleys from one surface to the next with exhilaration.  (Just like Daredevil!) 

And of course, you can't talk about The Crow without discussing Brandon Lee and his death during filming, something that added a deeper poignance and pathos to the movie.  The character's inherent tragedy was almost overwhelming at times, knowing what really happened off-screen.

I'd almost forgotten just how much I loved this movie.  No way I'm getting through the weekend without watching it again.  (The Crow was also one of my best Halloween costumes ever, despite carrying much more padding than Lee ever did.) 

This series provided quite a nostalgia trip.  Here's a link to each post, with a short excerpt:

Part One: From Comic to Screen

[Producer] Jeff Most: "I took the comics around with the treatments. I was told it was too dark, too bleak, too out there. One studio executive, who later became a president of a studio, threw the comics across the table at me and said, 'I didn't think you were gay.' I said, 'What?!' He said, 'Well, your character is gay. He's got long hair, he looks gay, he's dressed up in makeup.' Interestingly, I had a meeting with somebody else about a week later who also later became president of another studio who said to me, 'I heard you've got a comic book about a woman who kills people.'"

Part Two: Casting Eric Draven

John Shirley (Writer): I myself pushed for Christian Slater, who seemed cool and quirky and had a great voice. And the voice seemed important to me. I seem to recall [producer Ed] Pressman wanted to use Jon Bon Jovi! He had a whole fixation on Bon Jovi, as I recall. I am afraid I recoiled, visibly, to that prospect.

Part Three: The Crow's Lost Character

The Skull Cowboy appears in James O'Barr's comics and nearly made it into "The Crow." An other-worldly guide for Brandon Lee's resurrected avenger Eric Draven, the mysterious figure would have provided a great deal of the film's exposition, setting up the "rules" of the afterlife and Draven's mission.

Part Four: Best Soundtrack Ever?

Jeff Most (Producer): I wanted every song in the movie to be original, unreleased, born of the film. I was considered a crackpot for doing that at the time. Soundtracks were made up of hits, regurgitated top 40 collections. And the songs that were done for the film were not, at the time, the kinds of songs that were put out as singles. I wanted to create this world on camera and with the music in the film.

The first person I asked to join the soundtrack was [Nine Inch Nail's] Trent Reznor. I knew he'd never done anything for a movie.

Part Five: Remembering Brandon Lee

Jon Polito ("Gideon"): I believe that Brandon was, much like on script, fated to have a wonderful life. He was killed on Thursday and was going to be married on Saturday, to this wonderful woman. He was finishing his dream project. As in the movie, he was living the life with this woman that he was in love with and he was cut down. You have to say... Where does the reality end and the fantasy begin? The movie and real life came together in a way that was horrific but historic.

It's not just any old mud that's used to rub down the baseballs, either.  It's a special sort of mud that comes in a jar, called Delaware Mud.  Or to be even more specific, Lena Blackburne Rubbing Mud.

Why do I bring this up?  Because CNN ran a story on the man who harvests this mud, shovels a bunch of it into barrels, strains and cures it, puts it into jars, and ships it off to every team.  Each team requires only two 32 oz. jars per season.  Very little goes on each ball.  Maybe about a dime-sized dot.  But it's plenty to give the baseball a grip.  And you can definitely tell the difference. 

There's definitely a technique to rubbing the baseballs down, as you'll see in the video.  And when you have to go through five or six-dozen balls, you get fast at it, taking off the gloss in about two or three turns.  (At least four players or coaches passed by while we were in the hallway and said, "Ask him about rubbing my balls," "Yeah, he rubs those balls real good," or some variation of the two.) 

I was allowed to try it a couple of times (which a certain $18 million right fielder eyed suspiciously) and didn't get it right.  I got too much mud on the ball, especially on the seams.  "Yeah, the pitcher would definitely toss that one back," I was told.

Okay, enough about me.  Here's the video:

And what the heck, I'll include the article I wrote, after the jump.  (Along with the bad photo I took.)  The publication in question no longer exists (folding more than two years ago), so I'm sure there's no issue with reprinting it now.

(via Motown Sports)