There were two things in particular regarding the marketing of last winter’s The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe that I didn’t care for. The first was the over-emphasis on The Chronicles of Narnia in the title. This prompted people to ask, “Did you see Narnia?” Yes, I realize it’s easier to say that then “Did you see The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe?” The difference is, The Chronicles of Narnia is not the film’s name.

The second thing I didn’t care for had to do with the tie-in re-release of the seven books that make up the Chronicles of Narnia. Someone — and this may have happened before the movie came out — decided that since The Magician’s Nephew is a prequel (telling how the Professor came to be aquainted with Narnia), it should come first in the series, as opposed to 6th. Thus, the new paperback copy of The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe tucked away on one of many bookshelves lists itself as the second in the series. I don’t know what fucking retard decided to renumber the series, but sometimes you’ve got to trust in the author to read stuff in the order he wants you to. I mean, ask yourself this (particularly you Star Wars fans), when it’s time to introduce your kids to Star Wars, are you going to start with The Phantom Menace or Star Wars? Because if you start with TPM, don’t be surprised when Junior looks at you and says, “I don’t get it … what’s the big deal about Vader being Luke’s dad?” You watch that series in order, you ruin the surprises, y’know?

Fuckin’ George Lucas. Fuckin’ whatever fuckin’ moron renumbered the book series.

So. Anyway, in related stuff, The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe was released today on DVD. I picked up a copy at Target and took down to my parents’ house in Columbia to help my mom celebrate her birthday (it was Saturday). Odd choice for a mother’s birthday movie? Remember that this is the same woman who picked a movie out for us to watch last year — the very sexually explicit and uncomfortable to watch with your mother Closer — so I think it’s safe to say she gets to rely on my better judgement this time around.

(Spoilers commence).

The movie opens with German bombers. Lot of them. Bombing the piss out of London. This provides the motivation for moving the Pevensie children — Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy — into a big dusty mansion in the middle of the country owned by a mysterious professor who was, once upon a time, a magician’s nephew. If you know the story, you know that eventually the children find their way into the Wardrobe — a doorway into the enchanted land of Narnia, where Edmund falls under the sway of the evil White Witch who has caused it to be always winter (and never Christmas), but that with the arrival of the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve, Aslan has finally returned to lead an opposition and restore freedom.

Overall, I liked the movie very much, and regret not having seen it in the movie theaters. Of course, the first live-action version of this story I watched was the cheesy BBC production from the mid-1980’s. Cheesy, but still charming. In terms of the quality of the production, this new version from Disney and Walden Media certainly stands supreme, but I couldn’t help but feel that it was missing a little bit of that BBC charm.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intently watching the screen the whole time. Did I giggle when Peter got his sword and shield? Eh, maybe. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel the hairs on the back of my neck when the battle was about to be joined, and the White Witch’s army experienced the bombing of the flying - things - and their cargo of boulders. Or my heart nearly stopping at Orieus and the Rhino’s suicidal charge into the rapidly advancing enemy lines to buy Peter time, at a deadly expense (although since he’s only turned to stone, Orieus is okay at the end, hey, it’s the gesture that counts).

For a movie fifteen minutes over two hours, I was surprised by how much deviation was taken from the book. It isn’t much, but it’s a lot of the small things that were omitted in favor of new scenes — for example, Peter grabbing Edmund from the family’s London home, and the cracking-ice sequence weren’t original to the book. Meanwhile, sequences like Peter, Susan and Lucy mistaking Father Christmas for Aslan (”Heavens me, Aslan, a man? He’s a lion!”) and the celebrating animals being turned into stone after one of them slips and tells the White Witch that Father Christmas had been seen are omitted. Or, after healing a wounded Edmund, Lucy snapping at Aslan when he expects her to treat the other wounded, then remembering her place. Yeah, they’re minor quibbles, but the movie was big enough for them all.

In terms of performances, when most of your principle actors are either CGI or young children, I guess producers are stuck with crossing their fingers and hoping for the best. I was disappointed with Liam Neeson’s voice work as Aslan — it really sounded like he just got on the phone one day and literally “called it in.” I can’t help but feel that the original actor slated for the part, Brian Cox, not only would’ve done better with the role, but that his impressive voice is better suited for the role of the most iconic lion of all time.

It seems the sequel, Prince Caspian, is already in pre-production slated for a release in 2007. Me? I’m excited about The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. Reepicheep!

When discussing with Fool my initial goals for weight-loss, she advised me that after I lose my first twenty-five pounds, new goals can be set. I’m not sure what those new goals should be, but I do know that my first weigh-in the first Tuesday of January clocked me at two-hundred and forty-eight pounds, and that today I weigh two-hundred and twenty-three, which is a two pound loss from last week, and a total of twenty-five pounds lost in the last fourteen weeks.

Was there a game yesterday?

I don’t mean the baseball game. I mean at night. Because for some reason Monday night — late(r) Monday night — we got busy real quick. And when I mean “busy” I mean a third of the day’s sales came after 8pm. Hey, don’t get me wrong, I don’t care — I like getting a taste of the summer business, when I’m on the road until after closing and don’t get out the door until past eleven.

Love. It. (Because it means I’m making mooola).

For some reason, during the thunderstorm, both assholes I delivered to tipped me a buck. The one I don’t mind - he was working at the gas-station across the road from the store. I made a buck oh-six for less than two minutes of my time. The other one, farther down the road, then up a gravel driveway, around half a dozen assorted farming vehicles, then down a stone walk that soaked my shoes and socks, all for a measly buck twenty-one was slightly bothering to me.

My last run of the night was similarly cheap. Apparently, the fucker called the store a minute after I left with his run demanding to know why it wasn’t at his door yet. Zebulon related to me later that he’d explained to the dude that our delivery time was forty-five minutes for the night, and that he’d placed the order twenty-five minutes earlier. All I know is that for as impatient as he sounded in what was later told to me, it still took him five minutes of knocking before he managed to pull his huge Jabba the Hutt fatass to the front door to unlock it, open it, ask me for the total four times, scare me with his almost beastly labored breathing, then give me just over a buck for a tip.

In any case, two runs taken together saved me tip wise for the night. One was to a farm off Hess Road, to a small apartment aside a garage I’ve only been to once or twice before. He tipped $8, then I nearly peed myself as I was walking back to my car and a fox ran right at me. Actually, it was a small reddish-orange dog, but it looked like a fox at first. The guy walking the dog shared a laugh with me, then chased the dog into the garage so I wouldn’t run it over. The other address, consistently excellent tippers, remained so.

I applied online for a job a few minutes ago. It’s probably tempting fate, but I saw a position advertised for a New Vehicle Sales Consultant at Adam’s Jeep in Aberdeen, so I applied for it. I figure, if I get the job — and I doubt I will, no car sales experience, y’know? — maybe I can justify to my parents a Jeep purchase as a requirement of the position … (heh).