My friends think I keep a camera with me to annoy them at social gatherings. While that is important, it's really more about moments like this. Things you wouldn't notice unless you stopped to pay attention.

Please join us this November as we celebrate the life and music of Jerry Lee Lewis at the annual American Music Masters Conference featuring leading musicians and scholars who will lead us in in-depth discussions of his life and music.

Free Admission for Case Students

Register online to attend.

But I'm not a music major; will the conference go over my head?

Music fans of all backgrounds will be able to understand and enjoy the conference. Participants cover a range of topics. Some tell stories about what it was like to work, play and socialize with the honoree while others discuss the honoree's music and cultural impact.

At the end of the day attendees walk away with new insights regarding not only the musician and his legacy but also the life and times in which he performed. Overall the conference offers a rare glimpse into the life of the honoree through the eyes of those who know him personally and through the research of who studied his music.

If you're not already exhausted from Twittering your days away while making sure to Digg your favorite blogs, update your Facebook status on the hour, throw random thoughts onto Tumblr and pull your Flickr feeds onto your other accounts, then perhaps it is time to join Pownce or Streamy.

I have 2 Streamy and 6 Pownce invites available to anyone who 1) knows what I am rambling about, 2) promises to use the services or at least give them a solid try and 3) submits the most interesting/amusing reasons for wanting an invite in the comments field below.

If your comment is clever and you make sure to include your email address in the email field—and I've not yet run out of invites—I'll send you an invite.Learn more

• I like Pownce. I did like Twitter, but I don't anymore.
• Pownce: Against All Odds, Pownce Blew Us Away
• Keeping track of the Pownce Reviews
• Review of Streamy, a News Networking Service
• Another Streamy Review
• Streamy: Doesn’t Intend to Kill Digg, but Somebody is Dying
• Streamy - The Grand Daddy of 'Em All Web Feed Readers

Every year I get a group of friends together to draw pictures at chalkfest. And every year I come up with some idea that is more ambitious than it should be. Over the years I've had better luck with buildings than with other subjects. This year the day approached quickly and in my rush to pick a subject I chose a building I know well, Adelbert Hall. So I printed out pictures, one with a grid, and traipsed over to the museum.

As drew out my gridlines and stared at the pictures, I quickly ascertained that I had made the same mistake I always do. I'd bitten off far more than I could chew. The sidewalk was rough of texture, the colors of chalk were few (though I had more than the standard box of 24) and the details in Adelbert were many. I'd never noticed how many hues can be found in that stone.

Daunted by the task I plugged away, and if nothing else can be said, the final output is clearly a building rather than a three-toed sloth. But the outcome isn't what chalkfest is about. The comraderie of friends drawing under a rich blue sky, live music in the background and the people who wander by is what makes the weekend. Scores of people turned out, all friendly, and many more complimentary than was warranted, but overall it was a great weekend and a great way to clear the head from one's every day world and just immerse oneself in the task at hand.

Year after year, rain, shine, heat or chill, this is the nature of chalkfest. It doesn't matter if I try to draw an Egyptian sculpture that looks like an alien frog (my first year's effort) or a building that somehow has far fewer details than the original, chalkfest is a great way to clear the mind and enjoy the moment. This year a number of people asked me if I minded that all the work would soon be washed away by the rain. And I don't, it's not the result but the process.

But for those of you who missed it, some of the results are quite cool. From the extravagant work of the professionals to the creativity of the kids, many moods and styles were expressed. As the skies are still clear, their results are still there, if but for a few more moments. So if life takes you to University Circle in the next few days, take a walk in front of the museum. There is much to be seen in the pavement. And if University Circle isn't in walking distance, you can see the photos I took this weekend at Flickr. I'll probably take more tomorrow and will add them to the same batch.]]> http://blog.case.edu/hac4/2007/09/13/chalk My friend Colleen drew this excellent tiger. I'm better at photography than at drawing, yet, if you're familiar with our... http://blog.case.edu/hac4/2007/09/13/chalk art events Thu, 13 Sep 2007 14:08:46 EST
My friend Colleen drew this excellent tiger.


I'm better at photography than at drawing, yet,
if you're familiar with our campus, you can
still recognize the Peter B. Lewis building.


Me with my off-kilter drawing of Venice.

2007 Chalk Festival

Cleveland Museum of Art
September 15-16, 2007

Those of us on college campuses are familiar with seeing writing on the sidewalks. Announcements for clubs, parties and elections pepper the pavers upon which we daily trod. And while many of these are quite colorful, they're not quite as vivid as some of the work you'll see this weekend at the Cleveland Museum of Art.

If you like to draw. come down this Saturday and Sunday starting at 11:00 a.m., buy a box of chalk and a square of sidewalk and help decorate the grounds of the museum. Whether you're the next Picasso or can barely draw a stick figure, it's always an enjoyable event.

If you're too shy to share your artistic prowess (or lack thereof) come on down to look at the work of others. In addition to my more mediocre efforts, you'll see the work of everyone from professional artists to precocious kids. While you wander by the drawings you'll be entertained with live music by Blues Deville and the Panic Steel Drum Ensemble. Food and beverages are also available for those who need some sustenance to get them through the day.

And if that's not enough, if you need to fully immerse yourself in the creative experience, join the Sparx Gallery Hop, and visit galleries, studios, major festivals, and art institutions throughout Cleveland.

See ya at the museum!

While I was taking pictures today—at the 2007 Annual Fall Convocation + Investiture Ceremony for president Barbara R. Snyder—Lev Gonick joked that he wanted to see the pictures up on my blog by the time the event was done.

Naturally that wasn't possible, I can't upload and shoot at the same time. In fact having taken over 400 photos I only have half of them up on Flickr now and will have to finish the rest on Thursday. (At which point I'll post the link.)

But the suggestion got me thinking; what tools would I have needed to make that possible? To that end I've got up with a list of requirements, most of which could probably be created by a team from our own campus.

• Bluetooth (or similar) enabled camera that could download images while I am still shooting new ones.
• Laptop, or preferably a smaller wireless device that could run a program to access the camera, grab the images, store them in some logical manner, then trigger another program to
• Pick out a small selection of the most interesting or aesthetically pleasing images, upload them to the blog server and include them in a new entry.

Some of this is already possible. The sticking points are:

1. That it all has to happen while I am still taking additional pictures. Thus I would want to be able to push a button or start a program via a few simple commands then stick the device back in my pocket to be ignored while I keep taking pictures. (I could set parameters such as number of photos to blog, size, etc. in advance.) Conversely the process could be built into the camera which would access the wireless network and upload them all to be stored on Flickr (or the Blog server or somewhere else online) then trigger the rest of the process to happen on the server.
2. Developing a program that could objectively choose the most interesting photos. Given that such choices are often subjective rather than objective I think this would be the most challenging part. But if we had an interdisciplinary team including programmers engineers and faculty/students from Cognitive Science and Art they might be able to create something that could get it right most of the time. It would certainly be interesting to see which shots a program would choose in comparison to which shots were most often chosen by people.

What do you think Lev? (And of course everyone else.)

Looking for something to do this Saturday? If so I highly recommend:

The 6th Annual City Xpressionz Urban Art Festival

Saturday, August 25, 2007
10 am - 7 pm
Market Square Park
W. 25th and Lorain Ave*.

*Easy access from University Circle via the Red Line Rapid Transit. Exit at W.25th.

Entertainment Hosted by Q NICE.
Featuring: Forrest Getemgump, Besto, Ceven, Santina, Onit, Camouflage Finesse, TUT, Red Strype. Special Performance by Progressive Arts Alliance Students at 11:30am.

Sponsored by Cleveland Public Art and Cleveland-area Scion dealerships,

"City Xpressionz recognizes hip-hop music, dance, graffiti art, and other underground art forms as the works that shape a city's artistic voice. Transforming Ohio City's Market Square Park, City Xpressionz claims the street corner's blank canvas and creates art throughout the day. By bringing art into a neighborhood, City Xpressionz turns the community into an art gallery. City Xpressionz is free to watch."

Express Yourself

Have a knack with a spray can? Reserve a canvas for $10, bring your aerosol paint, respirator and ideas, then paint your canvas during the festival and take it home later.

Do you like to defy gravity? Enter the Bboy or Bgirl battles for $5.00 and compete at Power Moves, Footwork, and Bboy/Bgirl of the Day.

Got the rhythm and the rhyme? Enter the MC Battle for $5.00 and let us hear what you've got.

Prefer to watch?

All events are free for spectators. Bring your camera, check out the battles and watch the paintings emerge throughout the day.

Visit the Cleveland Public Art Web site for complete details.

While you're in the neighborhood, there's plenty more to do

• Visit the vendors of Open Air in Market Square for antiques, art, vintage clothing and various and sundry tchotchkes.
• Pick up some fresh bread, lobster ravioli, empanadas, Slovenian sausages, sweet corn and Pad Thai from the West Side Market.
• Try the cheese soup at Great Lakes Brewery, the smoked trout at Market Avenue Wine Bar or explore the menus at any of a number of nearby eateries.

Need to see more? Here are my photos from last year.

More photos and discussion about IngenuityFest 2007 can be found at Brewed Fresh Daily which has also announced the creation of the IngenuityFest group on Flickr. If you took pictures at the event, please consider joining the group. If you aren't already on Flickr, here is additional information on using Flickr to archive photos and Flickr's role as a social networking tool.

I also have more photos from IngenuityFest and Guerrilla Asphalt Repair on Flickr. Quality varies.

Thousands of years ago, when humans weren't yet imagined, turtles lived peaceful and prosperous lives in and around the world's lakes and oceans. They spent their days in the usual turtle ways: swimming, eating, lounging on the beach, sharing gossip and making new turtles. For a time their lives were easy. Food was abundant, but predators were not.

Alas while the turtles were minding their own business, some of the earth's other creatures were evolving. Small harmless lizards spawned larger and larger offspring. They evolved into a variety of shapes and sizes, many of which had hearty appetites and large pointy teeth—sharp teeth seemingly designed to rip through fresh turtle flesh.

Beaches once renowned for soft sand and snack-laden tide pools became popular fast food restaurants for dinosaurs. Being slow afoot, turtles were the top-selling item on the menu. Tired of watching their loved ones being devoured, and fearful of their own imminent mortality, the turtle elders gathered together to plan their defense strategy.

Some species chose to spend more time in the deep ocean—far from the dinosaurs reach. Others hid in caves and other locations difficult to find. Yet all of the turtles knew that they still had to spend some time in the open—if for no other reason than to lay their eggs. To protect themselves, they posted sentinels outside popular beaches to shout warnings when a dinosaur approached. This worked well for the turtles on the beach, but not so well for the sentinels. Unable to retreat in time, their warning calls became dinner bells—rare was the turtle who lived to stand duty more than once.

The turtles were easy prey for a variety of reasons. They moved slowly on land, they weren't used to predators and they were easy to chew. The elders recognized this, but they didn't know how to overcome the obstacles. They tried prayer, but heard no answers. They dug deep moats, which the dinosaurs crossed with ease. They rubbed themselves with pungent herbs and oils—in order to repel the predators—but found the dinosaurs actually preferred turtles in marinade.

As the shamans tried to work their magic, the engineers their defense systems, and the scientists their potions, a young turtle, named Terry, stared sadly into a tide pool. A microcosm of the world, the small pool was rife with activity. Larger animals ate the small one and hard shelled creatures ate the soft ones. “That's the problem,” he thought, “out here, in this world, we're the ones who are small and soft. If we had shells, like the crabs and scallops, we wouldn't be so easy to eat. That's it! We should grow shells; we just need to learn how.”

With a solution in mind, Terry waddled excitedly to the cave of the elders. “Shells!” he yelled, “We have to grow shells to armor ourselves. Instead of hiding in caves we can hide in our very own shells.”

“Did you just decide to grow your tail? Is your nose the result of a whim? How do you propose to grow a shell?” asked the village chief.

“With magic and science.”

“Our magic is strong.” Said a shaman. “But to create such a spell we would need to know what the shell should be made from and the shape it should take.”

“I could study the other shelled creatures and come up with the ingredients to make a sturdy shell,” one of the scientists replied.

“And we can come up with a design that will be both strong and light,” responded an engineer.

Excitement in the cave grew as the turtles started developing their plans. The chemists and materials scientists analyzed various ingredients, the engineers focused on shape and structure, and the shamans began writing a spell that would invoke the appropriate growth. Within six months they were ready for beta-testing.

The shamans began with a visit to the tide pools. There they cast spells upon jellyfish and watched as the gelatinous creatures grew armor and sank under the weight. The spell seemed to work, but they had to test it on a turtle to know for sure.

Testing would be dangerous. If the spell didn't work correctly the turtle could be disfigured or even killed. They had lost so many to the dinosaurs, they didn't want to chance losing another in the experiment. The village chief called for volunteers. Many discussed the idea—bragging of their potential heroism—but in the end, all but one had an excuse for not volunteering. That one was young Terry from the tide pool.

“It was my idea.” He said. “The rest of you worked hard to put the project together, so let me be the one to test it.” His mother cried and begged him not to, but she too realized it would be better to die in service than as supper.

Hugging his mother goodbye, Terry followed the shamans into the cave, where they lit incense and began their incantations. Many hours went by as the villagers waited to see what would happen. Finally lit merely by moonlight, Terry emerged from the cave and the others shouted out in astonishment.

“They've turned him into a rock,” one yelled. “No, I think he's a giant coconut,” said another. “Whatever he is, he's moving,” said his relieved mother.

“It's bloody brilliant,” shouted Terry. “It's lightweight and I can move almost as easily as before. If something comes near I can just tuck in my legs and head and I'm invincible!”

“Did he say he's invisible?” I still see him, murmured a skeptic in the crowd.

“Really it's great. The shamans tapped on my shell and tried to get me out, but they couldn't. It's totally safe in here,” responded Terry. “And know what else is cool? If you pull in your head and start singing, it echoes.”

Once everyone had inspected the shell and determined it safe, the shamans proceeded to cast the spell on all of the turtles. The next day when the dinosaurs came to dine on the beach they were surprised to find that the turtles had disappeared and what looked to be a bunch of rocks stood in their place.

After that the turtles lived peacefully for thousands of years. Terry's name was passed down the generations, first as hero, then as God. By the time more clever predators—such as humans—arrived, the story was long forgotten, but the turtles continued to pray to the benevolent god, Terrence. Coupled with the magic of the shamans, the prayers transformed Terry from a memory into a powerful deity. The turtles say he spends his days swimming across the sky to watch over them—damning their predators, while casting favors towards those who protect them.

Like many myths this one may not be true, but next time you see turtle soup on a menu, it may be wise to order something else.

Someone's been in my office. I first noticed it two weeks ago when I saw that the Rottweiler puppet and voodoo doll had been moved from the windowsill to the bookcase. A few days after that, I found strange indentations in the walls. They were similar to nail holes—left after removing a picture—but shallower and more conical in shape. Also they were each only one foot above floor level. That seemed too low for even a leprechaun to be hanging paintings.

Given the usual disorder in the room, it was a wonder I'd noticed at all, but last Monday I stumbled upon, or rather stepped into, something that could not be missed, a fresh pungent pile of dung. The pile was the size of that which you might find behind the back end of a small spaniel. But, as I cleaned it off the bottom of my shoe, I noticed that the smell and texture reminded me of horse back riding. Had someone brought a miniature pony into the office? Had they defied the pet ban, which I, however sadly, obey?

If they were going to defy the ban, why couldn't they just introduce me to their pet instead of leaving me with a pile of pony poop? Flustered, I asked around the building, but no one else had seen anything unusual. On the off chance that some stray creature was on the loose, I called security, but without an actual sighting of the beast, there wasn't much any of us could do.

That afternoon, with the scent of barnyard still lingering in the trash, I decided I needed to know more. I took the trashcan over to my friend Jon in biology and asked him if he knew anyone there who could analyze the dung to determine the species. A few days later I got an e-mail saying it seemed equine in nature, but appeared to have been eating grasses native only to India. Apparently these grasses aren't normally imported as livestock feed, so this information didn't get me any closer to solving the problem.

Trying to forget about my mysterious visitor I got back to the tasks at hand. But the next day, after lunch, I found more dents in the wall. This time I also found bits of debris on the floor. Upon closer examination I saw that the bits weren't broken drywall, but something harder, more akin to ivory. They looked like they'd splintered off a sculpture, but I couldn't find anything else that looked like it was made from this substance.

Curiosity piqued yet again, I took some samples over to the Cleveland Museum of Natural History and asked a curator friend if we could examine the substance more carefully. He brought in another expert and together they determined that the bits had a molecular structure almost, but not exactly, like that of a Narwhal tusk.

Needless to say, each new bit of information has brought more confusion than the last. Yesterday I found some red spatters near the dents in the walls, but at this point I'm not sure I want to know what that could be.

Today I think I'm closer to postulating a theory. When I started typing this on my Macintosh, I noticed a clicking sound coming from the other side of my desk. I looked over to see the keys on my PC moving up and down, as though a ghost were typing. A few weeks ago this might have seemed startling, but these days anything seems possible.

The typing continued unabated until a few moments ago. But now I can see that someone has been writing. Onscreen is a poem entitled, "Beware the virgin huntress." It's written in rhyming couplets and has something to do with medieval forests and bloodletting. I'd share it with you but it's rather sappy.

It has however given me some ideas. What sort of equine creature would have a tusk and live in fear of a virgin huntress? The only thing that comes to mind is a unicorn.

This one is apparently invisible, rather small, and possessed of magical qualities, but what other explanation could there be? Also, now that I know there is a magic unicorn in my office, how do I make him leave? I don't think the animal warden is trained for this sort of thing.

Scene: Our now familiar dark-haired announcer/host stands under a spotlight in what appears to be an otherwise dimly lit parking lot.

Host: Well America, with almost 25% of known viewership logging in, the votes are final. In tallying the votes and reading viewer comments we came to some interesting conclusions. What Americans want to watch and what Americans want to do is not always the same.

We saw a small but exuberant percentage of the population express an interest in following the life of a Mafia hitman on the job. It is no more surprising that these viewers--flirting with the dark romance of the Sopranos and the Godfather--would choose this than that none of them expressed an interest in being on such a show.

The prison show proved popular as well with many of you wishing to compete. One viewer, concerned about her qualifications as an upstanding citizen wondered if she would be disqualified for having a speeding ticket.

Some of you, though not many (fans of Friends perhaps), liked the idea of putting a group together in a house that the winning couple could keep the if they married. One jaded reality show viewer pointed out that these marriages never seem to happen anyway.

Many of you wanted to participate in An Apartment Apart. The idea of being locked alone in an apartment with tools, supplies and limited access seemed like a lot of fun--an entertaining vacation. Yet not as many of you were willing to watch someone elso do the same thing.

And finally we come to Fundamentalist Temptation. None of you voters volunteered to play this game. It may be that there weren't many right-wing Christians in our viewing audience. It may be that these more conservative viewers didn't wish to tempt fate. We have no way of knowing. What we do know is this. America is a land of voyeurs--voyeurs who like to watch others struggle with free will. Well America, as the snake said to Eve, here is your apple, all you have to do is take a bite. Welcome to Fundamentalist Temptation!!!

Voiceover disclaimer: The producers of this show wish to assure our viewers that we respect the values of people of all faiths and practices. Each contestant was subjected to a battery of tests, administered by psychologists, to ensure they were mentally and emotionally prepared to face this challenge. Each contestant signed a waiver disclosing that they have a full understanding of the nature of the competition and of the potential for embarrassment.

Scene: Garden lights come on revealing a path through a well-manicured garden. Interior lights come up to reveal the windows of a gothic revival mansion. Above the door in Flashing Neon the sign reads "Welcome to Gomorrah." Six chauffeur driven sixties-vintage pink Cadillac convertibles drive up to the path giving us our first glimpse of the contestants. One at a time the guests are greeted by our host and sent up to the house.

Car one: Betsy from Massachusetts, a clothing buyer for Filenes Department Store whose hobbies include rollerblading, glass-blowing, and teaching Sunday School.

Car two: Stanley from Hoboken, a successful businessman who owns a chain of Chevrolet and Saturn dealerships. When not working Stanley enjoys raising orchids and serving as a deacon at his church.

Car three: Nancy from New Orleans, a social worker committed to helping women who've fallen prey to drugs or prostitution to find new hope and new lives. Nancy believes that years of working the streets of New Orleans have prepared her to resist any temptation.

Car four: Luke from San Diego, a professional surfer who spends half the year chasing waves around the world. Luke feels his travels are a gift from god and give him the opportunity to pursue missionary work around the globe.

Car five: Candace. Unbeknownst to the other contestants, Candace has built an empire producing tasteful pornographic videos designed to entertain men and women alike without promoting the degradation of women. She has also recently launched a series of educational sex manuals meant to build erotic empowerment through awareness of body and spirit.

Car six: Carl is a retired Mafia hitman who found redemption through Christ while in prison and now devotes his time to mentoring young men whose life situations would otherwise make them more vulnerable to criminal pursuits.

Host: Here they are, six people from widely different backgrounds with nothing in common but a belief in redemption through Christ and the heartfelt conviction that their faith will prevail, and allow them to leave the show with the million dollar grand prize. In the course of the next few weeks they'll be exposed to temptations of the tastebuds and of the flesh of gambling and of alcohol. But most of all they'll be tempted by greed. Let's go see how they're settling in.

Scene: Host walks up path and enters house. Camera pans across living room as scantily clad waiters and waitresses proffer champagne, caviar, crabcakes, single malt scotch, handrolled cigars, and themselves to our nervous contestants.

Host: I'd like to take this opportunity to welcome you all to Gomorrah. As you know, you'll spend the next few weeks resisting temptation in the hopes of winning the million dollars. But what you don't know is that there are two prizes. The person who resists temptation, who stays most true to the practices of his or her individual church will receive a check for one million dollars made out to the charity of his or her choice. The grand prize winner, the person who will receive a million-dollar check for him or herself, will be the one who most clearly succumbs to hedonism. You have faith, you have free will, and now the choice is yours. Welcome to Fundamental Temptation.

Scene: Closing credits and scenes from upcoming episode in which the six contestants are placed in a hot tub and offered a challenge. The producers will send $10,000 to the church of the first contestant to remove his/her bathing suit.

© Copyright 2003 Heidi A. Cool. All rights Reserved.

Scene: Studio soundstage. Our never before seen dark haired male announcer stands poised under a spotlight.

"Welcome back America! Since last week's episode approximately 13% of you have logged in to cast your votes for the reality show that you think we should produce. Back in the green room our five writers are waiting for your verdict. Let's listen in."

Scene: Room with conference table buried in fresh fruit and five brands of bottled mineral water. 5 Writers sit or pace whilst discussing the potential outcome.

Barry: Courtney, I wouldn't get your hopes up about that Fundamentalist Temptation business. This country is getting more conservative by the minute. I don't think they'll want us poking fun at good Christians.

Courtney: Oh, come on, lighten up, what do you care, you're an atheist. Besides if they play by their own rules, they'll maintain their dignity. And if they cave into their temptations, well then they weren't that devout in the first place.

Stan: None of them will want to compete anyway. They'll think it is a mockery of their religion.

Michael: I don't know about that. There are always a few who emulate Job. You know, the type who are sure they can withstand anything. And what are a few prostitutes compared to death and disease.

Nadia: It doesn't matter. I think they'll vote for my idea. I think they'll prefer to watch individuals stuck alone in apartments. Every viewer can feel more like a peeping Tom this way.

Cut back to stage.

Announcer: Well ladies and gentleman, I've just gotten word that the rest of the show will be pre-empted for an address by the President. Since we'll have to wait until next week to reveal the winner, we've decided to keep the polls open. So login now (ballots are now closed) to submit your vote. Come back next week to learn who won and to view the pilot episode.

Cut to Presidential Press Conference.

George W. Bush speaks for 10 minutes about the urgent need to go to war.

Cut to national newsroom.
Various newscasters debate the effectiveness of the President's speech.

Cut to Coors commercial involving scantily clad twins and simple loud music.

Da da da da dunh do do do dee dum

Bright colorful graphics circa 1978 Peoria come onscreen to announce the local news.

Newscaster Mark: Welcome to channel seven's news at 11:00. Tonight in Parma, police are still looking for the bomber bank robber.

Newscaster Stacey: And in National news the President gave another plea for the country to back him in Iraq.

Newscaster Mark: What do the latest polls say Stacey.

Newscaster Stacey: As of this morning 58% of the public is behind the President, assuming a U.N. resolution is passed.

Newscaster Mark: I guess we'll have to wait and see what happens. And on the home front another reality show fakes us out. Joe Millionaire and The Bachelorette both left us dangling this season, and now the latest reality show. "The Reality Show" does the same. Viewers expecting to learn who won were disappointed to discover they'll have to wait another week.

Newscaster Stacey: But sometimes no news is good news. The show is keeping the polls open so if you've not yet voted for your favorite reality show you still have time. Just log on to (ballots now closed) to cast your ballot.

Newscaster Mark: I'll be casting mine tonight right after our show.

Newscaster Stacey: Me too, Mark, me too.

Fade to commercial.

© Copyright 2003 Heidi A. Cool

Scene: An expensively illuminated, yet starkly decorated conference room. Tired of paying exorbitant fees to license reality television concepts from Great Britain, five writers have gathered around a table to brainstorm new ideas of their own.

Barry: O.K., you know how popular crime shows are these days? Well here's what I see, we hook ourselves up with five mafia hitmen and equip them with hidden cameras. Then America watches as the hitmen track down their victims and silence them forever.

Stan: Interesting, but I don't think legal will go for it.

Barry: Why not?

Stan: Too derivative. It sounds too much like that movie from the 70's in which game show contestants were hunted to death on television. We might have to pay to use it.

Barry: But that was government sponsored, our guys would be from the mob, freelancers. I think it changes everything.

Michael: I'm sick of all these shows in which they put a group of strangers together in a house, on an island, on a quest, etc. Why don't we just go into some bar or coffeehouse, find a big group of friends and put them in a house together?

Stan: What "Friends meets Real World?" is it unique? What challenges will they face?

Michael: The challenge will be getting along in a different environment. We'll buy a really nice house in the city where they all live. Everyone will go about life as usual except that they will be under 24 hour surveillance. The prize will be the house. But there is a catch. America will vote for the most popular male and female houseguests. The winning pair can keep the house, but only if they get married and stay married for 12 months. And of course we'll leave the cameras in place for the whole time.

Nadia: Interesting, I wonder if they would go for it. But instead of putting a bunch of people together, what if we separated them? Let's make 12 people live in isolation. Each person will be locked into an apartment. Food will be delivered through a dog door. Each apartment will be furnished with a bed, art supplies, woodworking equipment, tools, and a computer. The contestants can go on the web to learn how to use their tools but they can't e-mail or message anyone except the other contestants.

Michael: Do they know the other contestants?

Nadia: No, they'll get to know each other online. They'll be lonely, so they'll reach out. Here's the competition, each person gets points for everything they create using the art supplies, tools, etc. We'll need a team of celebrity judges to award the points. Whoever has the most points after two weeks wins $300K. But here is the trick, the contestants lose a point for every minute they are online. So they have to ration their computer usage.

Michael: And America doesn't have a vote?

Nadia: No, that's the biggest twist of all.

Stan: I think we've come up with some great ideas so far, but let's see if we can think farther outside the box. What if we take 12 law-abiding citizens, real upstanding folks with not even a traffic ticket between them, and we imprison them in Alcatraz. We hire guards, serve them prison food, the whole nine yards.

Barry: Do you think they'd let us rent the place? They'd have to close it to the public.

Stan: Sure, the government needs cash. And we leave it open. It will be a big drawing card; tour groups can come through and visit them! Prisoners will be paroled for bad behavior and the last one in lock up wins.

Michael: What if we put them in a real prison? We could see if any of them go bad. Maybe even get a research grant.

Stan: We'd have to ask legal.

Courtney: That law-abiding citizen thing gives me an idea. What if we take a group of fundamentalist Christians and house them in a Nevada Bordello for 30 days. There won't be any customers, but the contestants will be surrounded by beautiful hookers, handsome gigolos, slot machines, craps tables, fine wine, etc. Whoever doesn't fall pray to their temptations wins.

Stan: Do people still use the word gigolo? What if the winner is the one who caves in to the most temptations. That's a pretty big challenge. Of course we can't tell them until they get there or they won't sign up in the first place.

Voiceover of Announcer:
Well America, you've heard the ideas. Now its time to pick your favorite pitch. Vote online using the comments field below to decide which reality television show will be produced. We'll announce the winners next week, and tell you how you can sign up to be a contestant. Goodnight, and thank you for watching the Reality Channel.

© Copyright 2003 Heidi A. Cool