It’s been ten years since Agent K (Tommy Lee Jones) and Agent J (Will Smith) last scooted around using “neutralizers” on humans to erase their memories and blasting aliens with Flash-Gordon-like space guns. Men in Black 3’s (MIB3) plot involves sending J back in time to intercept and kill an escaped, contemporary alien criminal (Boris the Animal), who has utilized the space-time continuum to return to 1969. If J fails, present-day Earth is doomed and young K (brilliantly played by Josh Brolin – he’s a dead-ringer for a 29-year-old Tommy Lee Jones) will be murdered. The film’s charm lies in its retro look, often played for laughs, and some great sidebars such as discovering Andy Warhol is a secret, sarcastic, jaded MIB agent who can’t stand the weirdoes he’s keeping tabs on in his Manhattan “Factory.” He hates the “crappy” art he’s creating to provide his cover. The special effects amaze – especially the recreated Cape Canaveral on the day Apollo 11 blasted off for its historic lunar manned mission. The real surprise, the one that lifts MIB3 above most summer cinema-sizzlers, is its touching revelation about the relationship between J & K. Many viewers near me fought back tears! And keep an eye out for Griffin the alien. He’s reminds one of Hobbit Frodo, and is the sweet heart of this incredibly affecting tale! Much, much better than the previous two MIBs!

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In lieu of monthly Social Security checks, President Romney will issue senior citizens realistic, made-in-China bear costumes, so they won’t be embarrassed when spotted dumpster diving for food and other essentials. Hunters will be discouraged from bagging bears near dumpsters and trash cans during bear season. Dead people-bears will be given free burials after Mitt’s “Saintly” minions properly baptize them! Bless you, Mitt!

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Even though flesh-eating bacterial infections (necrotizing fasciitis) are quite rare, the recent reports of three new cases – Aimee Copeland, 24, (a college student); Lana Kuykendall, 36, (a paramedic who just gave birth to twins); Bobby Vaughn, 32, (a landscaper being treated in the same Atlanta hospital as Copeland) – prompts me to issue this warning: If you suffer a cut or abrasion that doesn’t seem to be infected but is causing excruciating pain, possibly along with other symptoms like nausea and/or headaches, rush to the nearest emergency room. If you wait until inflammation and swelling occur, and the flesh-eating bacteria (many varieties of these normally benign germs live on our skin) are spewing tissue-destroying toxins as they quickly spread through the thin-layered fascia that surrounds muscles and organs, then amputations and massive tissue debridement will be needed to treat this often deadly malady. Occasionally, as in a deep muscle bruise, no visible wound is needed to contract this horrible infection.

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My parents were part of the “Greatest Generation.” My generation will be remembered (not for very long) as the “Worst.” Why? Because, even though we were aware of the devastating effects of global warming and have the technology to combat it, we did nothing till it was too late. If the Arctic permafrost melts, and it will as global warming accelerates, it will release double the CO2 that is now in the earth’s atmosphere, and that’s not the worst part – the tundra contains unfathomable amounts of methane, and this greenhouse gas is 30 times more toxic (as far as we’re concerned) than carbon dioxide. So, when the permafrost gets soft enough, we’ll get stiff! And the threat of thawing is no reach because entire Alaskan towns have begun to shift in the softening terra unfirma. Geoengineering has devised methods to increase our atmosphere’s reflectivity (reversing global warming) and remove carbon dioxide, but without adequate funding and further research, the long-term effects and effectiveness of these approaches are unknown. If the permafrost melts too quickly, we are doomed! Read much, much more in a fine article by Michael Specter (“The Climate Fixers”) in the current “New Yorker.”

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If you’re ever interrogated by the CIA, singing St. John’s College’s alma mater might be your best ploy…more on this later! St. John’s College (SJC), in Annapolis, was founded in 1696 as King William’s School. Much of its 36-acre campus resembles Colonial Williamsburg. SJC offers but one degree: a bachelor’s in Liberal Arts. Students are not given grades -- they are evaluated by their class participation and oral exams. In 2011, Newsweek stated St. John’s has the “most rigorous” curriculum in the U.S.: four years of language (ancient Greek, early/middle English, French); four years of math, literature, philosophy and political science; three years of laboratory science. Each year, a 20-30 page essay is required, and during senior year, all students submit a full-blown thesis they must defend, publicly, before three faculty members. The title of my niece’s, whose graduation I was attending, was “Swept up in the Song: Relationship With God Through Music in J. S. Bach’s St. Matthew Passion.” A phony, like me, wouldn’t last one semester in such an institution. Thank God for that! Because I couldn’t stomach sitting through the bi-annual “Don Rag” where tutors discuss your progress, as if you weren’t there! Tuition, with all the fixings for four years, pushes a nifty quarter of a million dollars. But considering that SJC produces an articulate, independent-thinking, polished gentleperson, it might be the best deal under the North American sun. Rumor has it that U.S. intelligence agencies heavily recruit these polyglotic, out-of-the-box thinkers. Not bad for a school that supported the British during the American Revolution! SJC competes against other schools, including high schools, in only three sports: rowing, sailing and croquet. And they only have one annual croquet match – against the nearby (about a solid four iron shot) United States Naval Academy. This contest, called by GQ “The purest intercollegiate athletic event in America,” launches graduation weekend. The nattily-dressed participants and picnicking witnesses resembled a scene penned by F. Scott Fitzgerald.

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Sometimes a picture is worth far fewer than a thousand words: Frogs are lazy! Bloggers are green slavers!

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In 12 days, both here and abroad, The Avengers (TA) has grossed $641 million. Disney should replace iconic Mickey Mouse with a chubby “Cash Cow” as its megahit is on track to become the biggest moneymaker in cinematic history. TA is loud, long and exciting. The silly plot about the theft of “the” cosmic cube (the Tesseract) by Thor’s adopted brother Loki is just an excuse to bring Marvel’s superheroes together to retrieve it. Loki (Tom Hiddleston) has the most ridiculous costume – helmeted, he resembles a giant dung beetle. Hi-tech Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.) has the best lines, but no-tech Hulk gets the biggest laughs. In the beauty race, Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) just sprints past Thor (Chris Hemsworth)…maybe? Initially, the superegoed superheroes fight amongst themselves, but, just in the nick of time, they join forces to defeat an alien invasion spewing through a sinister-looking wormhole pulsating in the smoggy sky above New York City. The two coolest CGIs were the aircraft aircraft carrier (you’ll understand when you see the movie) and the aliens’ metallic, Chinese-like dragonships. The acting’s passable; the plot’s plodding and the prose, well, prosaic – throw in terrific action sequence after action sequence, and you have the perfect recipe for a gigantic summer-blockbuster (during springtime).

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Life is loss and to rail against it is folly. But when life cannot be easily lost, it becomes most precious.

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Dear Ms. Pygian: I recently began dating a gorgeous woman. She’s way out of my league, but my geeky CMU pals don’t seem to be shocked.  This fact, plus her incredible knowledge and understanding of all things scientific (in addition, she’s never missed a “Jeopardy” question), has me wondering if I’m the victim of a sophisticated practical joke. Many of my buds are involved in robotic research at CMU! I guess what I’m asking is, “How can I be sure that my new girlfriend, Dee Dee Creepio, is…well…human?” Signed: Philo Phrisbee

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On a good day, the 320 crew members, 33 animators and 41 shooting units could produce about six seconds of stop-motion film for the new Aardman Studios Claymation-style movie The Pirates! Band of Misfits. No wonder, when you figure in creating 112 animated characters and massive sets – the pirate boat, alone, weighed almost 800 lbs. – it took five years to complete this charming cinematic treat. The movie revolves around the Pirate Captain’s (yep, that’s the main character’s name) quest to win the coveted Pirate of the Year Trophy. The Pirate Captain is likeable but loopy…kind of like, oh, say, a popular contemporary actor, who is bedding one of the most beautiful women in the universe, but for some reason decides to pay a sleazy street prostitute $60 bucks to perform a sex act on him in his car, and then gets arrested by the LAPD. And speaking of Hugh Grant, he’s the perfect choice to voice the film’s hero.

How inept is the jolly Pirate Captain? Well, his wanted poster boasts a reward of 12 doubloons and a free pen! And if that answer puts a smile on your face, this is the movie for you. Follow Captain and his zany crew from Blood Island (so named because it’s the shape of blood????) to Victorian England. Along the way meet Charles Darwin, Queen Victoria (she hates pirates), Jane Austen, the Elephant Man, Polly the Parrot?, a card-communicating monkey, sea monsters, ghost ships, leper ships, nudist ships, carnivorous world leaders and the thank you, thank you very much Pirate King. This silly but sophisticated flick is a PG-rated crowd-pleaser the whole family will enjoy. Froggy and I were so smitten we saw it twice. Stop-motion films have come a long way since the original King Kong. I’ll take Aardman over Pixar any day!

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