Why has nothing happened yet?

I'm reading Les Misérables, and I feel perfectly justified in that pedantic accent aigu because I am reading it in its native, savage, language.

I have now read 112 pages. A full 68 pages could be summarized with the sentence "A saintly bishop lived somewhere in southeastern France." The next 44, likewise, communicate "A man named Jean Valjean, having spent 19 years in a penal colony, arrived in that same part of southeastern France."

Look, I know it's a French novel, and is therefore created for the sole purpose of giving us pain, but, seriously, could something happen?

Why don't people understand basic cinema etiquette?

1. Don't get there late. Is it really so hard?

2. Don't leave early. And what's the point of that, exactly?

3. Sit as far as is reasonable from people who are already there. No one says you have to sit in a corner where you can't see the screen, but if there are exactly three people in the theatre before you, it is totally unacceptable to sit directly in front of one of them. This goes double if you have multiple small children who are unable to understand the film, eat quietly, or make it through a film without multiple washroom breaks.

And yes, the people who are already there do have a right to better seats. Because they're punctual. And that is a virtue that ought to be rewarded.

4. Shut up. Seriously, shut up.

Why is siege so poorly handled in films?

From the siege of Troy to the siege of Minas Tirith, there is never any suspense or sense of impending doom. The besieging army shows up, hangs out for a day and a half, kills a bunch of people, and wins or loses.

Films are limited by time, it's true. We don't have to spend lots of screen time on Beregond, Bergil, and Pippin's diet, nor do we have to watch every irritating interaction of Hector with Poulydamas. A montage? Someone even mentioning briefly that it's been ten years or that the Nazgûl make him kind of sad? At all?

Without at least a tinge of despair, it is difficult to be affected by either the Horse or the horselords.

Why is the air conditioning often on too high?

It's wasteful, which is stupid. It wastes energy and money. Sometime it wastes even more energy (and therefore money), because I have heard of at least one institutional instance in which space heaters were used to counter-act the chill. Seriously. That's like wearing a baseball cap backwards and then shading your eyes with your hand, only worse, because it's not funny and it's not free.

Air conditioning is meant to make spaces livable. This is why people can be in the South, and not spend all their time drinking lemonade on the porch. It is not meant to make spaces cold. No one should step into a building and freeze. Unless it's some kind of extreme conditions simulator for, you know, Navy SEALs.

It can't be good for you, either, to have that large a temperature differential every time you go in or out of doors. It's probably terrible for your joints.

No, I don't like stewing inside either. But it's July. Why am I wearing a sweater?

Why would anyone ever leave one ice cube in the tray?

It is not that hard to refill the tray. Additionally, I refuse to believe that you just couldn't use that last ice cube. Oh no! My gin and tonic will be too cold! Quel désastre!

Nothing can be done with one ice cube. It's just a slap in the face.

Why have revolutions become so squalid?

Chiefly the French are to be blamed, although even in 1848 I believe they had the grace to wear puffy shirts and look artistic as they died on barricades.

Our revolution was great. We chucked tea into Boston harbor, came up with a wonderful flag, and slogged barefoot through the snow at Valley Forge, eating only flapjacks. And it was for something, and we knew what it was, and we got it and we didn't let it go and it worked. And then the French were disgusted that someone else had started a fashion, and started lopping off heads and never shaving. Classy.

The world has never looked back. I grant there have been some outliers--India, for instance, was generally quite genteel, revolution-wise--but by and large the world has become not revolutionary but merely revolting.

Why won't those goons get out of the road?

It is impossible to imagine that a cyclist going 30 mph--or, as fast as he can--would be annoyed by some schmuck standing by the side of the road, encroaching on his path, and trying to touch him.

Oh, wait. Actually, it's probably the most irritating thing of all time. Every time I see some idiot fan running alongside a cyclist I almost wish that the bicycle had some mounted missile launchers. Andy Schleck punched a man yesterday, and good for him.

Get off the road, people!

Why does Snakes on a Plane pretend to have a plot?

The whole point of that movie is to have Samuel L. Jackson kill snakes with a flamethrower. It should give up its delusions of grandeur.

Why is there always that one loud barista?

You're drinking your coffee, probably reading a book, resisting the temptation to put on your iPod because for some reason you're convinced that it would be rude to the nice barista who has carefully chosen the truly dreadful music that is currently playing. This is fine.

Until the other barista comes in. The one with the hellishly boring life that you know intimately, because she's really, really loud. She also swears a lot, but that is not the sole province of the deluded pseudo-bohemian, so you let it go.

Strangely, though, you can only hear half of the conversation. Possibly because the nice barista is an actual person with decibel control.

Why can't the loud one shut up? Or at least leave when she says she will? Why?

Why is "52nd Street" such a lousy song?

52nd Street is an almost uniformly good album. We can differ on "Zanzibar," and maybe you're part of some Corsican rights group that has problems with "Stiletto," but "Big Shot" is quite good, people like "Honesty," and "My Life" is a great song.

Maybe you get sick of "Until the Night." It's kind of too long, it's a little facile, and sometimes inappropriately schmaltzy. But it's hard to notice these features, because it's followed by that tour de force of rubbish, "52nd Street."

A lot of people have unnecessary, stupid songs on their albums with very few words and those asinine. It's not even unknown in Billy Joel's corpus. But this song is really bad. That it is the best title on the album to be eponymous is a stroke of terrible luck.

But you don't need a title track. Just stop after eight.

Why are English muffin halves so uneven?

Some people happen to like their English muffins mildly crispy. However, since the halves are so uneven, this ends in one half being sightly tinged with brown around the edges and the other half being a charcoal briquette.

Unacceptable. It's so much worse than being unable to grade one's toast brownness properly, because there are two wildly differing objects, neither of which will brown correctly.

The sensible thing would be to toast them separately. But actually, that's madness. It's an English muffin. They shouldn't be that much effort.

Why is my German textbook full of lefty propaganda?

For the last few chapters I have been bombarded with green and pro-E.U. sentiments. The Austrian government that (apparently) opposed integration with the European Union is painted as parochial villains, because everyone knows that you can't oppose European integration for actual reasons. Only freaks and the British think that.

An inordinately high percentage of practice sentences have been on the topic of climate change and environmental policy. So we're not talking about my aunt's camel falling in the mirage. That's fine. This is supposed to teach actual German for adults. I've never been to Germany, but I bet they talk about things other than the environment (although, actually, come to think of it...).

It also has not really mentioned the Cold War in the context of actual Germany yet, nor anything other than "Yay! Unification!" I'm intrigued as to how this will pan out.

The irritation of all this bilge is only partly counter-balanced by the hilarious tap-dancing around WWII.

Why are degrees inconsistent?

First-degree murder is the bad one. But it's third-degree burns that'll really get you. This inconsistency indicates that such a terrible, counter-intuitive system needs to be replaced.

I'm not sure how. Perhaps replacing only one or the other would work. Murders would come in grades "regrettable," "reprehensible," and "hanging." Or maybe burns would come in "owie," "scarring," and "unbelievable searing pain and damage."

So it's not perfect. But it's better.

Why do sideline reporters ask asinine questions?

I think my favorite was after the Belmont Stakes in which Charismatic, who had won the Derby and the Preakness, finished third and broke his leg. The reporter went up to the jockey, Chris Antley, and asked him how he felt.

Do you really need to ask? "Well, gee, I just blew the Triple Crown and my horse broke a leg. I feel great! Maybe I'll break into a spontaneous song and dance and all the really drunk people will join in with perfect choreography!" The man was nearly in tears. That idiot reporter is lucky she didn't get decked.

But there are other winners, like, "Hey, you really blew that first half, what are you going to say in the dressing rooms?" Or, "How does it feel to give away a lead in the Super Bowl?" Or, "You're injured this year and can't compete in the Home Run Derby--is this what you would have chosen?"

We know the answers to all these questions. I don't see why we have to exacerbate Mike Shanahan's Exploding Head Syndrome.

Why do non-muscly men wear muscle shirts?

There are other shirts you can wear. If you're spindly or bulbous, the muscle shirt is not for you. I would think the nomenclature might help you out with that one.

But apparently not. The one-two punch of muscle shirt and girls' trousers seems to be a popular look for the emaciated hipster. When you add the bad hair, this makes for a winning combination.

No one's saying you have to be a muscle-bound freak. We do not require 'roid rage. It's just that no one wants to be repulsed by your flab or impaled by your protruding scapula.

Why do people ask questions during movies?

If you're asking about something that has already happened, shut up and maybe you won't miss things.

If you're asking about something that has not yet happened, there are two options: first, that you will find out during the movie; second, that no one knows. Either way, shut up. Do you really need "plot" to be explained to you?

The worst, though, is when no one in the room has seen the movie, and yet, someone asks a question about what's going to happen. No one knows! That's why you're watching the movie! ARGH! Was there an advanced course on being a useless waste of space at your high school?

Why do I always think there's a 9:49?

Because I'm an idiot.

There never is.

Why are there never enough bookshelves?

I just gave a bunch of once-read, terrible books to a thrift shop. You would think this would make room for the haphazard heaps of novels and classical texts all over my room. You would be wrong!

I try to use the library as much as possible. I don't buy books I don't like. I certainly don't hold on to them. I've finally managed to convince myself it's all right to get rid of books my mother gave me, if they're sufficiently dreadful.

There's still no space. Eventually someone will find my desiccated corpse wrapped in a cocoon of pre-war historical fiction.

Why do men shed their shirts the minute there's a whisper of heat in the air?

First, I have to be honest, it's not generally a great look. In fact, it seems to be those who can bear it least who indulge in it the most. This must stop.

Second, it's not that hot. There are people wearing shirts. In fact, all the women are wearing shirts. And yet, they have not expired. At some point it will be absurdly hot, and if you're brave enough to go out and mow the lawn with your shirt off while everyone else is collapsed on the porch with a mint julep, kudos to you. But it's not that hot yet.

So, nobody wants to see that, and you're a wuss. Well done!

Why is Paulie so hateful?

There are plenty of schlubs and plenty of people who yell pointless, random things in the Rocky films. There is no need for a character who combines the traits. And wears bad hats (again, because I think that niche is covered).

The best part is that the films admit exactly how hateful he is, to the point that he is given a robot in IV because he can't relate to another human being. You would think by the time they reached that point they would understand he added absolutely nothing and have him killed off or just kicked out of the house by Adrian because she doesn't really have time for useless people.

But no. He just sticks around, his hair growing ever more disgusting and his jacket lapels growing ever more tragic.

Why did NBC fumble the Wimbledon quarterfinals so badly?

This morning, at 8 am in the eastern United States, the Wimbledon gentlemen's quarterfinals started. They featured Roger Federer vs Ivo Karlovic and Tommy Haas vs Novak Djokovic.

Now, ESPN had the rights to Haas vs Djokovic until 10 am eastern, and then again could pick up Roddick vs Hewitt at 1 pm, again eastern. They did not have any rights to the other matches, and could not even mention the scores.

NBC had those rights. NBC was beginning TV coverage of Wimbledon at 10 am eastern (oh, actually, 10 in all time zones, which means California missed out on pretty much everything), at which point you could get Haas vs Djokovic on their website, and, when it started, Murray vs Ferrero, also on their website.

Federer vs Karlovic ended at about 9:54 am eastern. If you've been paying attention, you will notice that this means that it was not available, live, on television, in the United States. That's right, a Wimbledon gentlemen's quarterfinal, with the world number two and highest tournament seed.

At 10, NBC proceeded to show on television a replay of Federer vs Karlovic, followed, I am told, by a replay of Haas vs Djokovic. Now, Haas vs Djokovic was an interesting match. But it was over by then. Sports that are already over are never more interesting than sports that are currently ongoing. Never.

If it were 1995, I'd suck it up. No one was on wimbledon.org, or reading the BBC text commentary, or anything like that. One could avoid knowing the result. One really can't, now, and there's no reason one should.

Unless your network is so useless as to buy rights to a match they have no intention of showing live. Jerks.