Movie review: "Tomb Raider" By: Stephanie “You go girl!” Hathaway

I received a call from my dad last week informing me that he had 2 free tickets to Tomb Raider for a sneak preview and wondered if I would like them. Ah, why not. I have nothing to do on Tuesday. It might be kinda fun to laugh at how they're going to make this video game-to-movie work. We all remember how great Mario Bro’s did, right. First off I have to admit that I walked into the theater expecting to hate this movie. The very thought of sitting there surrounded by nothing but men and adolescent boys leering and drooling over the ever statuesque Angelina Jolie really didn’t sound like a good time to me. But eh, a free ticket is a free ticket. My friend and I take to our seats and sit through the promotional ballyhoo and poster give away. Finally the lights dim and all I can think of is why didn't I get more napkins? The 2 10 year olds sitting next to me are going to lose it any minuet. They start rocking back and forth… Next time my dad calls me with free tickets for a movie —probably for “Dude Where's My Car Now?! Part 2: The Search Continues- I’ll have to think twice. The opening sequence starts with Laura Croft, battling large metal robots. Immediately I found my self getting caught up in the action. This girl kicks ass! It’s great to see that we have finally gotten out of the 90’s “Girl Power” mantra pushed on us by the embarrassment that was the Spice Girls. We’ve now moved onto girls that can kick ass and look good doing it! Admittedly, Angelina Jolie is going to get the male’s hearta-pounding in her tight black t-shirt, hot pants, and guns holstered to each thigh. But she also gets to be the hero that adventurous little girls want to grow up to be. She is the female version of Indiana Jones, James Bond, with a pinch of Bruce Wayne’s money and tormented loss of her father all rolled into one sexy fighting machine. Unfortunately there is a plot. One that is somewhat convoluted, slow at times, and well, just down right hokey. Laura, our saucy archaeologist, is experiencing dreams of her dead father, and who is lead on a quest to finish her father’s work and to retrieve an ancient artifact before it falls into the hands of the power hungry secret society, the Illuminati. You see, this artifact will allow humans to control time and the opportunity to do this only happens every 5 thousand years and blah blah blah ….. Don’t worry, there is still plenty enough to keep you entertained. Even if you’re there just to listen to Angelina purr her lines with an unobtrusive English accent, or you’re there for the action and special effects this movie delivers. Although the bungee-ballet, Laura “flying” in silk white pajamas, seems out of place it does segue way into a great action onslaught brought about by the bad guys breaking into her home. Battle ensues with Laura, guns a blazin’, riding a Yamaha TRX 850. As I hear it Angelina does most of her own stunts. And a great job she does. I’m also quite impressed with the 6 armed Buddha, which had the potential for being awkward and comical (much like the Scorpion-king from Mummy Returns) but instead it works, with as much believability as a 6 armed statue of Buddha coming alive can have. This movie works, despite all of it’s over the top feel. It’s a great “guilty pleasure” movie. I can’t really say it’s fun for the whole family. The younger kids will get board at times (along with some of the adults), and there are a couple of scenes that aren’t suitable for younger kids, but hey, I remember my dad taking me to see Raiders of the Lost Ark. Who can forget the fight by the airplane scene? Or when they finally open the ark? We survived that and look how great we turned out! Hmm, better wait on taking the shorties. So now if dad calls again announcing free tickets to some movie I’ll gladly take them. Unless it’s the re-release of Ishtar: The Director’s Cut. I’ll wait for the DVD, thank you very much! All in all I give this a 4 outta 5 spark plugs.

Book review: "Conspirinoia!" Devon Jackson 19 By: Beemer Dan

Ever wondered who really shot Kennedy? Fuck no! You shouldn't care, he was a tool of the Man who was shot by the Man and get this, he was also....you guessed it, the Man. Not to mention that if you did know who really shot him the Man will be hunting your sorry ass down to dump you in the Hudson River right next to Jimmy Hoffa, who was also the Man. That is unless you're a 33'rd degree Mason like a whole bunch of US presidents were. Yeah, you can get in your car and try to run, but that Ford you drive was built by a company started by an anti-Semitic World War II nazi sympathizing bastard. Don't even try praying, Jesus never died on the cross, he hooked up with the Masons and lived the rest of his life out. The Pope sold cyanide gas to the nazis and Jesse Jackson really is your illegitimate Dad. No shit. You can't run, Nike is part of the conspiracy, so is microsoft, Disney, Phizer, the CIA, FBI, NHTSA, NBC, RTD, NASA, DEVO, etc, etc... That's pretty much how this book goes, well, not really in that sort of "I need to go to Bellview" sorta way. It's actually very well written by a very sneaky guy by the alias "Devon Jackson". He's probably in a little cement room with no windows tied to a chair with a big bright light in his face, bamboo shoots under his fingernails and a squad of nasty CIA spooks hovering around him. Poor bastard. Anyhu, back to the review. Conspirinoia! Has an interesting way of documenting the hundreds of past and present shenanigans of the rich, famous, politically influential, insane, inept and just plain psychotic. A sort of timeline/conspiracy group deal. It's a little confusing, but give it a chapter or two and it all makes perfect sense. Ever heard of MK-Ultra? Nope, it's not the latest KMFDM album or even that 'miracle' stain remover you keep seeing the infomercial for on late night cable. It was a nasty little bag of "wigs n' ski masks" spun up by our loving meanies at the CIA. Mind control folx. You take some poor bastard and drug him up on hard stuff, then you break down his will, his passion, his emotion, tear the poor fucks brain to bits. Then ya slowly rebuild him, reprogram him and rewire him so bad even Lucas would furrow his brow. When all that's done, ya give him a shave, a suit and a normal everyday job....along with a gun and that secret little code phrase that only you know and he can't remember. A few days, months or years later you call him up, tell him the secret passcode (usually something a bit odd like "the chair is against the wall and the highway is green", or "there are cows at the Guggenheim" go on say it out loud....say it! SAY IT NOW!!!!.....oops, sorry, not sure what brought that on. Anyhu, ya call him up and say the phrase. Next thing ya know he's on a suicide mission to whack somebody ya hate. He's programmed not necessarily to actually get the job right, but at least be a convincing patsy so your boys don't end up taking the heat for the real deal. How about project PaperClip? Yeah, nice boring name for a conspiracy of smuggling in nazi scientists to give birth to NASA. The WTO? A bunch of evil fuckers indeed, but you already knew that. Watergate, Roswell, Alcatraz and fuggin Fidel Castro and the Bay of Pigs. The Zionist-Anti Zionist conspiracy, yeah, it's all there. Every nasty little plan ever hatched, made up, dreamt of and actually done.... even a few yet to come. A great deal of the history in the book is correct, and much of it seems to fit together very well. It's just fuggin spooky! So does all this sound a little paranoid? You have no idea brothah. By the time you finish this book you'll be camped out on Devil's Tower wearing flannel pajamas, a tin foil hat and relentlessly cleaning your AK-47, waiting for big one baby! It's a great read, if nothing else it will give you a pretty sinister glance at history and the bastards that rewrote it. Goood stuff brothah.

Well, here in reality it seems to be even worse. From what I can tell, most of us scoot jockeys out there must be good guys,because we got these fuggin goofy lookin ostritch egg lookin things on our heads. The basic full-face helmet design is damn boring in my opinion. sometimes you can get one in black or with cool graphics, that's usually enough to get you on the path to the darkside. A tinted or uridium (the chromey finish that has that funky rainbow affect) visor will give ya bonus points too. The flip-up chinbar full-face lids are getting really close to the mark, but at the end of the day were all still wearing dressed up bowling balls. Well, a couple of years ago, a french company by the name of Roof opened up shop. Thier goal was to make really cool helmets, ones that the dark and evil minions would be proud to sport atop thier two headed necks. Ok, maybe that wasn't the actual intention, but they do make some killer lookin lids. Over the summer I asked our dear sistah Kellen to pick me up one of these spooky lookin Roof helmets when she was over in England. You can't get the Roof lids here in the states unless you wanna flop down an extra hundred and some bucks for shipping. Not to mention the helmets range from $200-$300 and a tinted visor is $40 and a uridium is %75 you might be lookin at the price of your rent by the time the box hits your doorstep. For me tho, a helmet that you'll wear every day no matter what the weather is worth whatever is costs. Of course that really doesn't explain why I wasn't wearing a lid the day a truck ran me over.........the first time I had ridden without a bucket in years even. Anyhu, I sent Kellen some bucks in the hopes she could find one for me. When she returned to Yankville at the end of the summer she had with her a shiny new Roof Boxer just for me. It has a comfy fit, a bit firmer than most lids, it also doesn't squeeze your head and cheeky parts like Shoei's and Arai's do. The finish of the helmet is very nice, lots of attention to detail and precision along with very nice gloss paint. It has a very similar look to a fighter pilot's helmet, which was obviously the inspiration. Whereas the main shell of the helmet looks relatively normal, the chinbar lines look much more like a jaw, somewhat similar to the Simpson Bandit, but better. Also, the face shield is more bubbled out and slides neatly underneath the chin bar as opposed to on top of it like most. The Boxer is a full-face helmet but the chin bar lifts up, making it great for commuting. The chin bar stays attatched to the main part of the helmet via two hinge ponts (the same place that most visors attach on normal lids) and it stays secured whial riding by two heavy duty snaps. I was a little skeptical of the snaps at first but they have proven to be very sturdy and secure. One fabulous feature of the helmet is that the chin bar pivots all the way to the back thus preventing you from looking like a conehead! Also the visor can stay down when the chin bar is up, this is nice if you want eye protection but need some fresh air.The visor is made from very scratch resistant plastic that is optically very good and will not distort your vision. One thing that has surprised me about this helmet is that it doesn't accept tiny chips and scratches like most helmets. Initially I was a little concerned that the soft fabric trim around the chinbar and top front of the helmet would not hold up very well. This cloth acts as the weather seal for the visor and was a new concept to me. I was happily surprised in my first jaunt through the rain that this seal worked perfectly. I have also been happy to find that after a few months of riding the seal shows almost no signs of wear. The Boxer is a reasonably light helmet, weighing in a a little less than my Nolan N100. It also has a nice "seat belt style" chinstrap, as opposed to those fumbly irritating D-rings that shoei uses. The smell of the inside of the Roof also smells really nice when it's new, I thought that was a nice touch. The one complaint about the Boxer is that it has NO vents, not a one. That means the top and back of your head may get a little warmer in summer. You can however crack the visor open a half an inch and it works very well for cooling the front half of your head and most of the top of your neck. Really, the vent issue is my only whine about the helmet, and that really isn't too big of a deal. All in all I'm happy as can be that Kellen was able to fetch one of these great lids for me. For the last couple of months it's treated me very well and proven to be nice and sturdy. If you measure your head to order one, you might wanna take it down by a couple of inches to ensure a good fit. Now I just gotta get the black tinted visor so I can get into the bad guy's guild, Darth Vader watch out. You can get your self a Roof lid from the great folx at Thunder Child

Book review: "The Motorcycle Diaries" Ernesto "Che" Gevera Translation - Ann Wright 1996,Verso Books Review By: Beemer Dan It's said that a revolutions cannot come about without revolutionaries, it is also said that every revolutionary has a journey which makes him or her the person they will eventulally become. In this book, the diary of Ernesto Che Guevera, we have the journey of the man that prepares him for his metamorphasis to a legend. Che Guevera was the lead catalyst of the dethroning of the pre-communist Cuban government. It could be said that if at the time Fidel Castro was the voice of the revoulution, Che was certanly the heart and hand. Many residents of the western world look upon communist revolutions as bloody uprisings that can sometimes produce worse governments then those they remove. That beleif holds some weight, but it must be said that all communist revolts happened with the best of intentions, and even if the end result was eventually unfavorable, they were neccisary.

Reading this book was in some ways much of what could be expected from a look deep into a chapter of the life and soul of a yet-to-be archetype of revolutionary culture. A bright, intricate, caring young man with the strongest of faith in fate, and none in the powers that governed. Ernesto Guevera was changed in this journey to become Che, a man who was feared by his enemies and honored by his friends. A truly brave fighter for the "people", a philosophy witch was his religon for his entire life. In this diary Ernesto and his good friend Alberto Grandos recount thier many thousand mile journey. This trip through South America began in Buenos Aries on a 1939 Norton motorcycle, fondly referred to as La Poderosa II, the powerful one. I'm not sure if you've ever seen the suspension on a 39' Norton, but it eludes me as to how they got as far as they did without thier kidneys bursting. The trip was announced to thier friends and family as a short one, although thier intention was that of a much longer journey. To everyone else it was a simple journey for two young men taking time away from thier studies in medicine. To them it was the journey many young people feel they must make, a rite of adulthood. Naming this published chronicle the Motorcycle Diaries has a greater emphasis on the intention rather than the actual journey, as the motorcycle meets its fate a third of the way in. The fact remains tho, that two men astride a motorcycle had every beleif that they would complete thier journey on this machine, yet did not give up when they found themselves without it. A rough journey it was, as most roads in South America were not only unpaved, many could barely be considered roads at all. The two young men set off into a world that was strange in many ways, yet farmiliar in others. All people from Buenos Aries were referred to in other parts of south America as "Che". Being partially a term of endearment, and partially a slur, it became Ernesto's given name throughout thier travels. The name of course stuck after the trip, but that is another, much more political story. They traveled from town to town, working odd jobs and charming the locals to get food and shelter. Ernesto and Alberto had an interesting way of getting the neccesities of life. In one situation they found themselves in the residence of a kind man who they had befreinded. As they conversed the man kept encouraging them to join him in drinking. Ernesto kindly declined several times, smiling as not to insult. Finally their host demanded to know why they did not wish to drink. To this Ernesto replied "Where I come from, it is considered taboo to drink without also eating". Thier host obliged by ensuring there was food to go with the drink. A great many of thier adventures were of a similar style. In another town they helped as waiters at a large banquet, carefully smuggling out bottles of wine and food to a nearby drop point. Later that night they went to the designated drop point to retrieve thier liberated goods, only to find that thier employers were as clever as they and had caught on to the plan, leaving them only with the food they had managed to consume during the banquet. Other antics were things such as stowing away on boats and offering to work for thier passage when discovered. They also were very obvious about the fact that they doctors and, with a little exaggeration were able to get articles written about them in the papers to ensure their welcome in the next town. Not all of the trip was about clever methods of sustaining full bellies tho. . They followed through with plans of visiting the poverty stricken and shunned leper colonies. Thier mission there was to help the people and change for the better all they could. Most of the help they could give was to lend themselves as able-bodied young men, helping to do things that many of the residents could not. They also helped by being kind and unafraid. Most of the outlying communities treated those inflicted with leporasy with fear, not understanding the disease. Ernesto and Alberto being doctors, had the advantage of knowing much about the disease and therefore had no fear. It can be said that the fact that they treated the residents of the colony with great respect and kindness was the best medecine they could have brought with them. This book is an amazing look into the life and minds of these traveling companions, as the diary of revolutionaries to be. As for Ernesto's night of revelation in which an old man convinced him to fight for that which he beleived was right, it is a only a few pages near the end of the book. Also, this final chapter of of the story seemed the least influental in making Ernesto the revolutionary, Che. The beleif of many is that Ernesto was a true hero from the beginning, and from reading the entries of this diary, I can only agree.

Book review: "Sportbike Performance Handbook" Kevin Cameron 1998, MBI publishing By: Pavement Pan

Behold! The most holy text! Here it is boys and girls. If you don't know how to read, this is the reason to learn. The one book that every biker should own, this is our bible. You may have read a column or two by Cameron in Cycle World. If you're smart, you've read them all. If not, salvation is here. Cameron has let us reap the fruits of his two-year effort, in this, his penultimate work. Cameronís passion and genius shine on every page. From the most simple maintenance, to the very designing of motorcycles, he artfully draws you in. if you weren't an author of one of the cited works, or a mentioned giant, odds are Cameron knows more than you do. On every performance subject, from adjusting chain slack up to chassis design, Cameron's book makes motorcycling better. Every subject is reviewed from the ground up. Starting with simple, layman's explanations, Kevin goes all the way up to the physics that make it work. Page after page, hand drawn illustrations add poignancy to the text, and Cameron's lighthearted humor keeps you reading. The book starts at the beginning, buying your bike, and goes all the way to personal performance, and hits all points in between. Kevin explains the works of the gods like Pops Yoshimura and Rob Muzzy, and what their work means to us. He covers how to modify, what to look for in the products, and trouble shoots almost all possibilities, so you don't have to. He even shows the results of screwing up, so you know exactly the value of doing it right. To top everything off, the cover has Cameron doing a massive wheel stand on a ZX-11. If that's not inspiration, I donít know what is. If youíve ever even considered lifting a wrench at your motorcycle, I take that back. If you ever plan on touching a motorcycle at all, this book is indispensable. So brush off the old reading specs, its time to build a better bike.

Book review: "Classic Superbikes from Around the World" Mac McDiarmid 1999, Smithmark By: Pavement Pan

Ever gotten aroused by a 51-year-old girl? You will! Ok, ok! so it has a picture of a Harley Davidson duo glide on the cover, but trust me, this book's all super bikes. Many of us strafe corners day to day, and take for granted the great leaps of technology that it took to get us there. This book answers those questions. With every page emblazoned with huge glossy pictures of bikes our fathers drooled over, even toothless Harley boys can enjoy this one. McDiarmid does an excellent job of walking the reader through the more significant steps of the development of the super bike. Stretching a time frame from the inception of motorcycles up through the late '70s, you'll fall in love with bikes all over again. As you read, you begin to feel genuinely attached to these quirky little machines, learning of their oddities. Did you know that Laverda 1000cc triples used to be raced with as many as three steering dampers? Ever heard of Honda's 250cc six-cylinder racer? How about Suzuki's 125cc two stroke v four with twelve gears! Every page reveals something new. From early triumphs (the bikes, too), to fatal errors that shaped modern motorcycling, your mouth will water at the brute beauties that strafed before us. Pick up a copy, I promise you'll get the pages sticky.

Book review: "The Encyclopedia of the Motorcycle" Peter Henshaw 1999, regency house publishing ltd. By: Pavement Pan

You could use it for sidecar ballast. The first thing you notice about this book, is its size. Itís gídamn huge! With its cover shamelessly touting a Harley Davidson springer soft tail, it has the look of a coffee table book on anabolic steroids. Be warned, however, this book requires a coffee table of above average construction. I have mixed feelings about this book. Despite what its heft might suggest, it is lacking in several crucial areas. Alas, if it where not for plethora of glossy pictures, this volume would best serve bikers in the arena of hand to hand combat. Let us, though, start on the positive side. If you where ever wondering what the names of every motorcycle manufacturer in the world are, past and present, this is the book for you. From AJW to ZZR, this book contains them all. If it were missing any, you'd never know. Who knew that there was an Austrian motorcycle manufacturer named 'Sissy'? Every one gets mention, if only a sentence. There are pictures of a lot of them, most of witch you've probably never seen before, unless you're a bonified motorcycle guru. Of course the major manufacturers get a few pages each, simply because they've done more. This, unfortunately, is where the problems start. If pictures are what you're looking for, then dive right in. you don't need to know how to read to enjoy this books finer points. In fact, it's probably best that you don't. In careful examination, I found that the book contains much that is apocryphal; some that is wildly inaccurate, other that is simply untrue. Much of the text is the opinion of the author, and what isn't, might as well be. In some places, the captions are so bold as to directly contradict the photo to witch they refer. Itís a fun book to page through, but if you're looking to win the motorcycling edition of trivial pursuit, look elsewhere.

Book review: "Pictorial History of Japanese Motorcycles" Cornelis Vanderheuvel, 1997 Bay Veiw By: Beemer Dan

It has the look of a coffee table book upon first glance, nice large format, glossy pages, all that stuff. I can assure you though, it's much more, which is good considering coffee tables are for rebuilding carburettors. This book is the equivalent of ciffs notes of the post war history of Japan's two wheelers. Starting in the 50's and up to the 80's it tells the story of how over a hundred Japanese manufacturers fought the world and each other for for a piece of the market. How Honda grabbed ahold of the US market to become one of the largest manufacturers in the world is really incredible. Looking at today's CBR's and Valkyries you'd never think that Honda's became popular from a 50cc scooter. The book also tells of those that didn't make the cut, Lilac, Rikuo, Miyata, Pointer and those that went on to other things; Fuji, Bridgestone and Showa. Each chapter is an engrossing study of individual models and makes alike, thier innovations and fumbles, from the racetracks to the streets. I was amazed by the wealth of photographs of bikes in the book, you'll be garuanteed to fall in love with at least a few bikes you've never seen before. The bikes pictured range from museum quality to rusted baskets, many though, look as though they are still being ridden on a regular basis. One of the nicer aspects of this book is that it can be used as reference and not just a pleasure read. The layout has a progressive timeline and each section is headed by the subject of bike of manufacturer. The authors writing and research is so in depth that you learn about how many of the bikes ride, as he takes more than a few of them on the road. He also goes into detail on some of the more interesting and successful models. From the description of how a particular Yamaha has louder intake howl than muffler noise to the qurkyu fact that the gears from a KZ1000 can be used in a Panzer tank, the author doesen't miss a thing. Before they entered the motorcycle market, Suzuki made looms, Yamaha made instruments, Kawasaki made fighter planes and Honda, well, they've always made Hondas. Some of these companies dove into the motorcycle market as a side gig, try thinking about a weaving loom next time you see a GSXR. At any rate, if you're a fiend for Japanese motorcycles, have the urge to learn some history, or sipmly want to take a look some of the best bikes in history, this book is for you

Book review: "Einstein's Dreams" Alan Lightman, 1993 Warner Books By: Beemer Dan

Reading motorcycle books on the intermittent stops of a long ride is like reading Playboy during sex, it's overkill, and can be distracting. That is where a book like this one comes in. One of my favorite things to do is hop on the bike on a nice warm day, throw my pager for the cats to chase, grab a philisophy book of some sort and hit the road with no destination in mind. Einstien's Dreams is the perfect book for this sort of ride, about the size of a postcard and an inch thick it fits perfectly in a pocket or under the seat. A nice long ride through some back country hills or a closed industrial district, stopping every now and then for a smoke and the reading of the next chapter. The book is a fictional representation of Einstien's search for time theory. Dreams of other places or dimensions where the arrow of time flows much differently, and sometimes, not at all. It's the type of philosophy many of us drift through on long empty highway where the mile markers are nonexistant and the clock has no validity. Each chapter is but a few pages, yet long enough to inspire thoughts of a different flavor. After reading this book my views on time and space were adjusted, as it challenges the perceptions we have of our busy linear world. An interesting read, and an even better distraction from a world that makes a routine of taking itself too seriously. If you have ten bucks, a nice day and no particular place in mind, this book will serve as the perfect roadmap and destination.

Book review: "Speed Tribes" Karl Taro Greenfeld, 1994 Harper Perennial By: Beemer Dan

The modern day Japan as described by Karl Greenfield is incredible, a harsh yet intruiging place. A land with a once booming economy is now stretched between the tradition of the old ways and the thirst for the new culture. This is the Japan I never learned about through any school or books, but heard about through rumor and stories from friends. The "Bosozoku", or Speed Tribes are the motorcycle and car gangs in Japan. Speed Tribes describes an attitude that is the lifestyle of the people in this book. Each chapter documents a segment of life, mostly people in thier teens and early twenties rushing through a raw newborn culture. From gang members to porn stars to video game programmers, you don't just take a back seat and read. Karl Greenfield brings you into their world and you feel like you're living in it. You feel the rush of a "bosozoku run", blasting through the streets of Tokyo evading the police and doing your best to score points with the rest of the gang by doing burnouts and wheelies. Choco Bonbon and his speed induce dreams of a fluffy white Carmanghia made of clouds. The yearning of Moto, the motorcycle theif to live a life different to what he has, and different from what it becomes. I was drawn into this book immideatly, unable to put it down. The theme of the book is fast paced and powerful, it also has a very dark edge to it that is constantly looming. I felt like I knew many of the people, I have grown up with many that took similar paths. The dark feel of the book leaves you feeling a little used after reading it, but truthful documentaries of fast life in the city commonly do. I strongly reccomend this book with the warning that the stories are real, the writing is honest and parts of it may be unsettling to some.