Hall Of Fame
10. Five Characters in Search of an Exit
It sounds like the start of a bad joke: an army major wakes up in a metal cylinder and meets a hobo, a ballet dancer, a bagpiper, and a clown. Things are never quite as they seem in The Twilight Zone, and there aren’t a lot of laughs to be found in this premise.
Instead, these five characters trapped in a strange tube seek to not only escape, but also figure out where they are. The results are as surprising as you’d expect given the history of the show. This was season three’s Christmas episode, but hardly filled with mirth and good cheer. It did inspire Vincenzo Natali’s cult classic film Cube
9. It’s A Good Life
The fantasy of every child — to have unlimited power against grown-ups — is made horrifyingly real in 1961’s “It’s a Good Life.” Bill Mumy plays six-year-old Anthony Freemont, a boy with incredible psychic powers who holds everyone around him hostage. It’s sort of like Game of Thrones, if little King Joffrey could simply think you out of existence for displeasing him. The adults tiptoe around the kid, but it never really matters, because he’s six, and six-year-olds aren’t particularly rational in the first place. That ever-present sense of menace exuded from the adorable face of Mumy is what makes things work. Like “Nightmare at 20,000 Feet,” the episode was remade for the Twilight Zone movie. It also got a sequel in the 2002 Twilight Zone revival series, entitled “It’s Still a Good Life,” wherein Anthony is now a grown-up and his daughter has inherited his abilities. Bill Mumy and Chloris Leachman reprise their original roles, and Mumy’s real-life daughter serves as the story’s new tyrant.
What does it feel like to be wrongly convicted
I was wrongly convicted of murdering my wife. I recall that first night in jail. It was not unlike being punched in the face. I was stunned, numb, and not sure of what lay before me. All personal control had been yanked away. What I wore, what I ate, where I slept, and where I could not go were all dictated by the State. In that situation, the absolute power of government becomes blatant, coercive, Orwellian.
The first few months of prison life are about adaptation. It’s a different society, a subculture of power — physical, emotional, and spiritual. There are simple rules. Obey and internalize those rules and you’ll get by.
As the years pile up, feigned apathy becomes your outward mask. But on the inside, anger and bitterness consume you. Revenge occupies your so-called free moments. At other odd times, you fantasize about living a normal life… or escaping to a tropical paradise… or dying in prison. You imagine building houses, establishing relationships with the opposite sex, or burning down the houses and the relationships of your enemies.
But as the decades accrue, an acceptance and an understanding of life creep in. If you’re lucky, you become calmer, more relaxed, more sure. You see the value of faith, hope, and of course, love. You come to appreciate pure things, like the behavior of animals and the joy of small children. It sounds cliche and almost banal, but time wears a man down.
In the end, if you are lucky, you see that our trials are what improve us. And if you are very lucky and somewhat insightful, you see that whatever your trial has been, it is exactly what you needed. Our trials make us who we are.
A stray dog joined the Swedish team in the multi-sports Championships in Ecuador. Team captain Mikael Lindnord gave him a meatball —“ after that he chose Michael as his new master.
It all started with me giving Arthur a meatball when we we’re eating right before the long trekking. When we set off we did it with some other teams, and I didn’t understand that Arthur was following us until we were alone and he was still there. At one stage we had to take a break and the dog was totally wrecked. We opened two cans of food and let him eat, because he could find no food at all in the djungle.
When we got in to the TA, Simon was feeling very bad and we had a few hours stop here for him to get checked up by the medics. As we were leaving, the organisers adviced us not to bring Arthur, as it was a big dog and it could be unsafe on the water. But when we set off in the kayaks, he started swimming after us. It was too heartbreaking and we felt we couldn’t leave him, so we picked him up. We could hear the people cheer on the shore as we set off.
But he was kind of in the way during the whole paddle and we had to find different paddling tecniques to not kick him off board. A few times he jumped in to the water and took a swim, and then he crawled back up again and was freezing so he got to wear ourjackets. One time we got quite close to land and he jumped off and swam to the shore, and we thought that was the last we were gonna see from him. But he ran on the road for a bit and then he swam back to us.
When we finished, everyone wanted to ask about the dog and he has slept outside our hotel room tonight. Right now we’re at a cafÃ© and he’s just lying here at our feet. We are looking in to the possibility to bring him back to Sweden.
Arthur is now coming with the team to Sweden on the same flight as the team, later to be quarantined in Sweden for four months and then move in with Mikael. It will cost $6700, but there is no doubt that Arthur is worth it.
When I’m battling diarrhea on a road trip
When my drug-head cousin, who I haven’t seen in years, asks me for money before even saying “hi”
When the Chipotle worker gives me a HUGE scoop of chicken