The Fredösphere

I'll be hosting the Carnival of Music come Monday.  If you have a post from this week you want included, send me the link by Sunday morning, and I'll include it.  Listen, people:  this Carnival is new, and we must feed the fledgling if we expect it to thrive.

Meanwhile, we started watching our very own purchased copy of The Incredibles last night.  We, meaning the whole family:  we've begun administering measured doses of this powerful stimulant to Der Drübermensch and the Maharincess.

I don't want to understate my opinion of this film, but caution is always wise when dazzled by brilliance such as this, so let me assert merely that The Incredibles is

The Greatest Movie Ever Made By A Human Being.

To those who feel I have just damned the good people at Pixar with faint praise:  I apologize.

The boy is quite taken by the concept of super powers, and I manipulated him to my parental advantage.  He now uses his super speed to get dressed in record time.  This morning he opined that Ricky Ricotta's Giant Robot would likely achieve parity in a test of strength vis a vis Mr. Incredible.  Thus, it begins:  the seven fat years of pre-pubescent male bliss, when everything is quantified and ranked, especially superhero prowess. 

When I entertained the notion Mr. Incredible might fight the Giant Robot as a test of strength, I almost got my head bit off:  they're both good guys.  They don't fight one another.  Sorry!  I'll try to do better in the future.