The Complete Urban Guide to Proper Umbrella Usage

The Umbrella

: Some have argued its worth beyond even that of fire, or the wheel, or individually package snack foods. Known by many names--bumbershoot (or bumpershoot), parasol, canopy, sunshade--and appreciated by many cultures, the umbrella is an essential tool in humanity's war against the elements. Canes, hats, sock garters, they've all gone the way of the Dodo as far as standard equipment goes, but the umbrella has persevered in the face of fashion, and with good reason. It is versatile and seemingly infinite in variety, it is simple yet effective, and it's nifty.

This is why, dear friends, after enduring yet another day of the perils of a rainy city, I feel obligated to share with you the secrets of that ancient, nigh mystical martial art surrounding the sensitive and affective use of the umbrella in an overcrowded urban en(and "in")vironment. These many secrets of both external and internal practice have been passed down only orally through the centuries, handed from generation to generation of master, all the while cleverly disguised under the nomenclature "common sense." I think you will find, however, when next you visit New York (or Chicago, Washington D.C., Bangor, etc.), that there is nothing at all "common" about this "sense." Let's begin . . .

• Rule the First: Best Defense for Rain, No Be There.
• I paraphrase Mr. Miyagi, of course. (Pat Morita, it is widely known, was a long-time secret practitioner of The Way of The Not Retarded With An Umbrella In Public.) This rule is pretty simple. If it's raining, don't go out. You won't get wet. Oh sure, you may spill some water on yourself at some point, but come on. Take some responsibility for yourself. While you're at it, call in sick to work. Think about it. Public transportation will be full to the brim with people convinced they're getting to work faster by not driving, all the while slowing down the public transportation with their numbers. In such an environment, it's an act of charity to fore go one's usual strident work ethic, and charity is one of the 99 Virtues of this style.

• Rule the Second: Second-Best Defense for Rain a Hat.
• It's true. Hats still work. It may seem ridiculous to us, but not so long ago our ancestors (read: grandparents) wore hats out that had a little more style than just a logo and a standing deck on the front. These hats were not just stylish, but practical, with lots of air underneath to separate one's scalp from the elements and, more often than not, a wide brim all the way 'round what prevented elements from getting all elemental in our faces. This simple alternative, when combined with a long coat, will protect all the essentials from said elements.

• Rule the Third: You Need a Coat
• No, really. You do. I know, I know, but -- you do. It's the city. Water's going to come at you from directions you never dreamed possible, and it doesn't care how good your legs look in those shoes/pants/eccentric ruffles.

• Rule the Fourth: As With the (Hu)Man, So With the Bumpershoot
• So you are rash, young Padawan, and have chosen the Way of the Umbrella over the Ways of Responsible Delinquency and/or Hat. So be it. First: You still need a coat. I'm not letting go of this one. Coat, cloak, poncho, whatever--deal. Second, you are unique. You are special unto your own self. Your umbrella must reflect this. If you are larger than most, you may need an umbrella of greater radius, with corresponding longer neck. If you are more diminutive, so shall your umbrella be. Play to your strengths! Far more often than you may imagine, someone of insufficient height takes it upon his or her self to wield a Vorpal sword of a parasol, thinking bigger to be better. This is plainly untrue, and further, is contradictory to the virtue of Not Being a Punk-Ass, another of the 99 Virtues of this style. Further still, with an over-large umbrella, you are imperiling not only others, but yourself, owing to still another of the 99 Virtues: Tendency to Kill Umbrella-Punk-Asses.
• Rule the Fifth: Know Your Place
• What is your "place"? TWoTNRWAUIP is a sophisticated philosophy and way of life, not just a highly effective art-form, and it recognizes that set rules and forms will ultimately limit our ability to adapt to different challenges. For example, a person who's 5'10" in D.C. might think of his or her self as a tall him or her. Odds are, however, that such a one will find themselves in the shorter margin of humans at some point on a visit to N.Y.C. Ergo, one should learn to judge one's opponent(s) on an individual basis. This is harder than it sounds. To practice properly, one must meditate daily on images of reeds in the wind, unconcerned about the battles of ego that might occur in rainy urban conditions. There is no shame in taking the lower stance. Especially if you're a 4'9", slow-moving, grocery-shopping grandmother.
• Rule the Sixth: Movement is the Key to Successful Movement
• Herein lies all the complexity of the technique--that formless form that only masters of TWoTNRWAUIP may someday achieve. One must move with precision and ease through the myriad bumbershoots, maneuvering smartly whilst maintaining a sufficient velocity of foot travel, rather like a traceur (a practitioner of le Parkour), or those cooks who chop stuff really quickly. There are many movements, most of which only life can be the teacher of, but the key to them is this: It is not enough to avoid impaling yourself; you must avoid impaling others. Also: Understand that your umbrella is, oddly enough, wet, and can moisten others. Additionally: What is WRONG with YOU? STOP BEING RETARDED.

Dang. I think I need to meditate a little more.

Like Soundwave, I've Got Something To Get Off My Chest.

Fellow victims, I caved and rented

Transformers

(2007). I'm aware of my crime. This is equivalent to buying one of the new

VW

bugs, or digging that "new song" by Elvis, which is actually an unused, dance-remastered vocal track. I have been sold my own nostalgia back to me, and I bought (in to) it. One moment I was Principled Actor Jeff, and then--

ENH

-

ENH

-

ENH

-

ENH

-

ENCH

--the

Deceptacon

,

Eightiesdork

.

The worst part is that I knew, going in, that it was directed by Michael Bay. Now look: Sure, I liked Michael Bay. When I was eighteen. I can admit that. I was young, and I needed the stimulation. I DON'T NEED IT ANYMORE. Somehow, it was easier for me to accept the idea that I

was

the camera, back then, and capable of that sort of camera

kung

fu

he's made his name with. Now, I prefer the long shot, and the relatively grounded camera that shows me precisely what is going on, so I can appreciate moments more than general motion.

I didn't even go in to the movie with high expectations. There was a reason I was renting it, and didn't catch it in the theaters. In point of fact, the only reason I rented it at all was that I caught

The Battle of Shaker Heights

on TV the other day, which convinced me that this

Shia

LaBeouf

lad might just have something to him. (Though my jury remains resolutely not-in on his worthiness to

wield

the Indiana Jones mantle in 2008.) Indeed,

Shia

made the movie for me, which would be an accomplishment of sorts, considering he was up against two-storey robots (and the gorgeous, not-remotely-in-high-school Megan Fox) most of the time.

"Would be," I say, because said two-storey robots were rendered hopelessly uninteresting by the same aesthetic that directs Bay's camera. They were astoundingly complex and animated, and utterly uninteresting. I see the need to update the dozen motion points found on the first

Transformer

designs, to spin them into something more conceivably versatile and bad-ass, but I would submit for Hollywood's consideration the idea that part of the fun of a Transformer is being able to appreciate exactly

how

it changes shape. Also, imagine if those endless man-hours spent designing and rendering the 'bots had been spent, even fractionally, on, oh, I don't know, the script?

Bay makes kids' movies, essentially. Gratuitously violent, often verbally lewd, but kids' movies, all the same, for their attention span and priority on visual stimulation over elements such as story and character.

I begin to question why these things are important to me. They shouldn't be, right? I mean, by all standards, selfish and selfless, I and the world stand to gain nothing from the successful or unsuccessful update of my childhood enthusiasms. Yet somehow it really matters. All this childish stuff from my youth is something I cherish, and I want to see it--if it must be

resurrected

--done to my current standards.

At least now I can relax. They couldn't possibly

rehash any other favorite cartoons into movies

.

Happy Halloween. We're all gonna die.

As though worries about the environment and global strife were not enough, it appears that the science fiction writers were right once again. I refer you to this link, courtesy of

Friend Nat

. Read it, if for nothing else, for your own safety and those of your loved ones:

http://www.cracked.com/article_15643_5-scientific-reasons-zombie-apocalypse-could-actually-happen.html

Let's Get it On!

Two ludicrous topics today, web-loggers. The first is in reference to last Tuesday's post (

8/14/07

). It would seem that it's a popular choice for people to endorse Batman against any and all odds in a fight, giving him the acclaimed status of figures such as

Bruce Lee, Chuck Norris

and Most Guys' Girlfriends. I have

Friend Adam

to thank for exposing me to this (my own) bias, in the form of a string of submissions to

IGN.com

. It seems IGN had a survey/fantasy-football-esque event in which they paired off comicbook characters to see who would win in a fight, until they were down to a final two: (The) Batman and The Phoenix. Batman won the votes. Which is ridiculous (I concede...begrudgingly). So IGN began a series of articles inviting people to describe how Batman would win in the face of a variety of unbeatable odds, aptly titling the series "

Use Your Delusion

." I invite you to check it out. I daresay they make my proposed Batman vs. Wolverine scenario seem utterly reasonable in comparison.

The other ludicrousity (is SO a word) is the terrible volatility of personal relationships between artists. I am not even kidding. Sometimes it seems to me that these involve more bloodshed even than Wolverine fighting a busload of overweight babies. And understand, I'm not speaking exclusively here of romantic relationships . . . you know: "

relationships

." rather, I mean any personal relationship that develops between artists. But I should confine myself to actors, here. That's where most of my experience has lain, with a dash or two of dancers and writers for good measure.

We will rock your world. We will: It's science. Now, get two of us together and add a dash of affection, an ounce of attraction and a dram of chemistry and you've got one intense stew. The only problem with that stew (assuming you like stew [and intensity]) is that when it is really cooking, it means it is constantly at a boil.

Wait. I lost

myself

in the metaphor.

I think it's something having to do with dedicating a good part of one's life to exploring emotions others generally choose to avoid, practicing reacting out of instinct and cultivating an awareness of everything everywhere. For a start. So we apply that exploration, reaction and awareness to our greatest priorities, many of which are personal relationships. That's part of why I'm grateful for those of my friends who aren't artists (though I'm just as grateful for my fellows in the arts), because it's kind of nice to know people who can let an issue slide, or are interested in just sitting down over drinks without discussing the ramifications of society's increased isolation from itself. It's great to be uncompromising and sensitive, to have an alternative viewpoint, but it's not always good to apply this ethic to the day-to-day of personal relationships.

I think there are myriad causes for the explosive nature of relationships between artists, and I haven't the experience or interest to explore them all, but one think we can agree on, I think again, is that personally involved artists working together on a project is the most explosive situation of all. I am thinking here, of course, of my relationship with the actor who left

As Far As We Know

. Moreover, I'm thinking of her relationship with the producing team, with which she is/was really close. I wonder how much of the reasons for the rift had to do with personal feelings on both sides, and how much with work disagreement. I suppose I'll never really know. What I do know is that, regardless of how much you can clean up both aspects of a relationship--professional and personal--this kind of event creates a breach of trust that I don't believe ever really goes away.

So maybe the better question is, assuming they don't rip each other to shreds, how can we hope for Batman and Wolverine to find a reconciliation together? You know? Kick it over a bucket of wings and a couple of brewskis?

Bat-tle Roy...lverine?

In the anarchic spirit of true artistry, I intend with this entry to break the mould of Odin's Aviary by discussing a topic seemingly unrelated to

The Third Life

(TM), though I'm likewise sure that I'll find a way to tie it in somehow. That topic is as follows:

Just who

would

win in a fight between Wolverine and Batman?

Now, everybody: Calm down. Calm right the hell on down. (Some of you may think I'm using an ironic tone at this moment, but nothing could be further from the truth; I have friends that will be offended that there is even a question about this match up--and for both sides, too.) We're going to look at this rationally, and I'm going to be as unbiased as possible. To that end, I must admit to those of you who don't yet know me (though I'm on the cover of this week's

The Record

. . . WATCH OUT!) that I am about as biased for Batman--in all things--as I could possibly be. Bearing that in mind, let's us begin our fair and balanced exploration of the question.

Batman would win.

Okay, I'm sorry. For

reals

now:

Batman would kick shorty's hairy butt.

No, no, really. Really. It's a tough call. (It

is

, Mark.) They're both the more popular bad boys of their respective universes--which is no doubt part of what inspired Amalgam to bring them together in their character,

Dark Claw

. One could make a quick argument that Wolverine's enhancements make him the sure winner, but frankly, Batman has dealt with supernatural (

et

al

) powers before, and has a reputation for being the smarter fighter in any situation. But I get ahead of myself. Let's take a look at our fighters in some limited detail.

(Isn't it great to, every once in a while, be shameless in one's geek self? "

Geeking

out" is the popular term, but it can refer to any incidence in which someone unabashedly reveals their enthusiasm for anything. Why should it be such a social sin to relish anything in this world? Because not everyone will care? So what? You don't have to listen/read.)

Dealing with a brief outline of the conditions: Batman is a hero from the DC Comics universe, Wolverine from the Marvel. For the purposes of this discussion, we will be approaching the characters as being at the peak of their natural condition; that is to say,

Wolvie

with his standard set of attributes in the X-Men arc, Batman in his late-twenties/early-thirties...none of this sapped

adamantium

or Return of the Dark Knight stuff. (Non-

fanboys

: Anyone over

geeked

yet?) And they shall be comic characters, not movie characters. So

sayeth

I. And they shall be drawn according to their origins, with some allowance for increased anatomical awareness in artists of the latter half of the 20

th

century. So

Wolvie

is short, and Batman is not hulking. Finally, they're both to some degree anarchic good guys, with Wolverine taking the anarchy cake: He will kill; Bats will not.

Let's get it on!

Wolverine is a mutant who has been experimented upon (fact-check me here gang; I am not a Marvel dude). He has regenerative powers of shocking rapidity, but for the purposes of this discussion we're gonna go with the popular comic choice of him needing some time (one or two nights) to heal from something severe, like a dozen machine guns. He also has three foot-long claws that extend at will from his fists, which are made from

adamantium

, a purportedly indestructible metal. In fact, his entire skeleton is coated with a layer of the stuff, adding to his indestructibility and making him heavy as all hell. Now, the healing is a mutant power, and the

adamantium

is the result of a government experiment. The claws were long assumed to be part of the government's work, but a twist in the nineties suggested they were there before all that, made, at their core, of bone. Sadly, as a result of powerful amnesia,

Wolvie

barely knows a thing about his origins. Given his healing ability, it's possible he is really very old, but he maintains a loner attitude and an underdeveloped emotional capacity. He is trained in martial arts with a Japanese flavor, and prefers direct action to intricacy or planning.

Batman is just a dude--no superpowers. He has, however, spent every waking moment since he was six years old (or so) dedicating his life to studies both physical and mental that will help him fight crime in the urban sprawl of Gotham City, so often the argument is held that his single-minded determination is his "superpower." These studies include gymnastics, mixed martial arts, all sciences and technologies (with an emphasis on computers and

mechanistic devices

), detection, criminology and behavioral psychology. His mind and body are honed into excellence, and he's backed up in all of this by a huge estate and corporation left to him by his deceased parents. His

modus

operandi

is to research and investigate the hell out of everything ahead of time and be prepared, like an inky black boyscout. Owing to his background, he is incapable of accepting loss, either of people or in achievement.

Now (and I owe Friend Mark a nod for this): chances are it would all go down in Gotham. It's not hard to imagine these two egos clashing, but given that Wolverine generally wishes to best bad guys, it would take his stomping on Batman's grounds to make Bats take issue with him or his methods. So Gotham it is. And methods it is. Specifically,

Wolvie

would most likely only come to such a big city if he had to, presumably in pursuit of answers about his past or to hunt a baddie, and he wouldn't

announce

himself to the authorities. Now, it's hard to say what DC characters would feel about mutants. Batman would have no love lost over their DC equivalent--

metahumans

--but he's teamed with super types before, and some much fruitier than

Wolvie

. He is something of a control freak, though, and

Wolvie

would probably pretty quickly foul up some careful lead Bats was following. Bats would sneak up on him,

Wolvie

would smell him coming, Bats would warn,

Wolvie

would yawn him off, Bats would disappear suddenly and without a trace (because you can't smell them

going

). It's only on their next encounter they'd fight, probably with Bats tracking

Wolvie

, but

Wolvie

aware of it, and so he provokes him by threatening to shred a house of drug traffickers instead of arrest them.

And it's on.

My preference is to judge the winner by character examination. You can spend all day debating the merits of strategy, relative invulnerability and motorcycles versus

sports cars

, but at the end of the day, we're talking about events in a storytelling medium. If it isn't a good story, in this context, then it just isn't feasible (much less

desirable

). So we'll talk here about claws and cowls, but hopefully in how they serve an outcome, not their viability strictly as weapons.

(Brief irrelevant observation here: Why in the hell does Wolverine wear a mask? Bruce Wayne has to hide his identity to function in both worlds, but Logan has never shown any sign of needing to mask

himself

. Hell, he's on a continual quest for his identity! That's not the kind of guy who would dig getting his disguise on. Yeah, yeah; I know when he was created it was fashionable and they were trying to make him look more like his namesake. But come on.)

The fight would be all about control and, from this perspective, with Batman as the aggressor (trying to achieve control) and Wolverine as the defender (trying to escape control). This doesn't, however, mean that Bats gets to start the fight.

Wolvie

would probably startle him by drawing him in and then attacking suddenly. Bats would want to keep the high ground afforded him by his aerial equipment, but would just have to keep swinging lower to suppress

Wolvie

until it degraded into a street-level (or rooftop) brawl.

Surprises

would abound. Bats would have all kinds of interesting ways of evening the odds (in the eighties it would have

been a

neural suppressor to prevent the claws from engaging; in the sixties a giant bat-magnet), and

Wolvie

would shock Bats with moves so ugly they're almost absurd. Essentially, they're both incredibly experienced, intelligent fighters, once they get past the emotions. Along those lines, Bats would be doing everything he could to make Logan lose it whilst he maintained control of himself and the environment, and

Wolvie

would be doing whatever he could think of to cause Bats to falter from his grim determination.

Which is why, ultimately, Batman would win.

In every fight, Bats has some part of himself standing outside of the engagement, being the deductive reasoner, that part of him that he found years before, ready to carry him on past his parents' deaths. It's this part of him that inevitably carries the Rocky-

esque

twists of his fights: Just when he seems most lost, we discover that Bats was merely doing what he had to to manipulate the situation into his ultimate plan. He is ultimately objective, which is what makes him a hero, rather than a revenge-

obsessed

sociopath with a

Narcissus

complex.

Which is why, ultimately, Batman can't win.

In every fight, Wolverine's spirit is

indomitable

. It has to be--it's all he really has. Wolverine is actually a supremely vulnerable character. When he started out, this was manifested only by his impulsiveness and relative lack of strength compared to the other X-Men, rendering him more often as comic relief than as his current status of anti-hero. As writers developed his story, however, the vulnerability came out of this incredible amnesia and a conflict between who he seems to be and who he wants to be. For all his indestructible qualities, inside he's destroyed, and it's only his fighting spirit that he can rely on.

What we have here is a conflict between essential natures, and a stricture of conventional

comicbook

plots. The characters and their stories are serial, and keeping a balance between continuity and ingenuity is what marketing those comics is all about. That's part of what makes

comicbook

characters such contemporary icons: like the gods and heroes of myth, they are defined by specific characteristics that remain essentially the same. So we can have several Robins, and Batman can get his will broken by Bane, but only if it eventually returns him to his essential character with renewed vigor. This is great for hero worship and power fantasies. This sucks for narrative, because what's really interesting about a story is how people change as a result of it.

So I propose that the fight would end with Bats getting control of the

Wolvie

, and having his say about his jurisdiction and

Wolvie's

methods.

Wolvie

might even find his arguments compelling enough to stop threatening him for a moment. But

Wolvie

will not change his ways, and Bats will be forced to

expel

him from Gotham, like an animal released into the wild. Another little tussle, in which

Wolvie

gets a claw swipe at the utility belt, to no apparent harm, and Bats will have him ready for transport. The much-battered Batman will escort a bound Logan across whatever harbor borders Gotham, and Logan will light a

stoagie

, turn wryly back and say over his shoulder as all his bruises fade, "Been a while since I've had a beating, but I've had worse. Bit of advice: Remember that I owe you one, bub." And with that cryptic line, Wolverine leaves the scene.

In a brief coda, Bats goes back to the scene of their first meeting to scavenge clues that may not have been obliterated by

Wolvie

. In departing there, he uses his fly line to span an alleyway, to discover

mid-flight

that it is nicked. The line snaps, sending him crashing to a fire escape. "I suppose now we're even..." he says as he rather gingerly descends the escape.

Thoughts? Comments? Complete disagreement?