The DaVinci Code (or, Whatever....and Tom's hair wasn't even worth half that fuss.)

Hola quesolitos, and a pleasant Monday morning wish of happiness to you all. Barry hit number 715 yesterday, but what do I care, yesterday was not his day--it will never be his day, because yesterday, May 28, was the most incredible woman in the worlds' birthday. That's right, where was I? I wasn't in front of my TV so that I could watch everytime Barry Bonds farted or whined or hit a homerun. I was with my wife celebrating the day of her birth. Well worth the trade! Way to age baby!

So anyway, on to my bigger issue today, besides the fact htat I really need to mow my lawn and would readily pay someone to do it for me right now.

As I said...on to my bigger issue: The DaVinci Code.

Okay, so I have read the book and I have seen the movie, and at the risk of sounding cliche, "The book was a lot better." No really...I was amazed that Ron Howard and Tom Hanks could team up to drain more of the intensity and energy out of a very intense and energetic book than could be possibly imagined. I mean, seriously...what happened?

I know that not every book makes a good movie, and that despite this book's acclaim, its IQ is too high for the consuming public; however, the movie was almost unintelligible. I mean, it was almost JFK-esque. Remember the scene in JFK where Donald Sutherland shows up in the park and basically sings like a canary for five minutes and spills the beans that the rest of the three hours of film only proved to completely and monotonously repeat? It was like that, only with Teabing's office in this film.

Sure, I have some beef with the so-called DaVinci facts (Oh yeah, sure thing M. Brown, the Gnostics want a human Jesus...whatever...), but then I just sound like the theology nerd I actually am. My big beef with this particular film right now is that I wasted nine bucks watching hollywood try to polish a turd. This movie was supposed to be one of my big three this summer--along with X3 and some other sure-to-be-crap movie I can't think of right now. Oh well, what am I going to do, tell Hollywood they screwed up another story--I'll get in line.

Better luck next time.

God save the Cheese.