ey hey...
Today has got to be the worst day known to childom so far. (At least for us.)
First, as Mel went to the store it sounded as if the kids were having a good time playing upstairs. They were quiet, with little punctuations of laughter. A little off, but not totally unusual between the two.
But then I heard the sink water running and Lucy saying to Mei, “Wash your hands Mei Mei!” playfully. And I thought, “Uh oh…”
I went upstairs to make sure that they weren’t flooding the place out. Not really. A bit wet, but nothing for worries. However… They did find a tube of Desitin baby lotion and decided to use the entire thing as a hand, arm, face, hair, futon, door, sink, wall, shower door, shirt, pants, and faucet lotion.
They hit everywhere except their asses.
I gave them baths and washed their hair a couple of times, but it still looks like they rolled around in an oil field. (And the bath water had a sickening greasy, white tinge.)
So they had time-outs… Especially Lucy, because she should have known better.
Afterwards they were okay and they went back upstairs to play. But then it was just too quiet. When I went up there to check they had somehow got hold of 409 carpet cleaner, and Frebeeze (both of which were way up on the shelves, and the only way they could have got them was by Lucy), and they soaked the bonus room TV and the TV stand (and I do mean soaked), the DVD player was totally wet, and they were working on flooding out the chalkboard. Big time-out #2.
Now my after her initial time-out, I took Lucy’s favorite blanket away for the rest of the night – and she is still throwing a fit for it an hour later. (Call me Hitler…) And periodically Mei joins in on sympathy crying.
Not a good day in the Shumway household.
(Well, at least the Celtics beat the Bulls in game 7...)
Sunday, May 03, 2009
Monday, January 05, 2009
Movie Review - "Gran Torino"
MOVIE REVIEW
“Gran Torino”
Clint Eastwood hits the screen in what may be his last film. I mean, the guy is old. Old, old. Bordering on ancient. I may be wrong. He may be back. But everybody has this feeling that this may be it. And this is the main problem with this film. (More about this later…)
Eastwood plays this grumpy old man, stuck in his ways. He worked 50 years on the assembly line in Detroit, still lives in the same house and has watched his neighborhood turn from all-white, to what mostly seems all Asian. And as you can imagine he’s grumpy about it. And to top it all off, his wife just died and his kids are sycophants. Eastwood literally grunts a lot, and uses racial slurs like the rest of us say “fuck.” (Well, I say “fuck” a lot. Like a Teamster says, “fuck” That’s how much…)
The kid next door is a bookworm – and he’s being pressured by his good-for-nothing cousin to join his street gang. And to be initiated he must steal Eastwood’s car – his one love, his Gran Torino. And so it goes.
The initial racial slurs are funny at first in fleshing out Eastwood’s character as the grumpy old man next door. But then it just gets old. And as the film goes on it’s as easy to read as the old Dick and Jane primers from first grade.
It’s like the character in the film is a rehash of “Dirty Harry” but without the, “Do ya feel lucky punk.”
The film is generally getting good reviews, but I think it’s for the “Clint’s gonna die soon” factor. I sure as diddley-shit ain’t gonna give it a thumbs up.
The really piss poor aspect of this whole thing is that Eastwood is going to get an Oscar for this. Remember “Million Dollar Baby”? Now, for that film he should have got an Oscar. But he doesn’t deserve it for this piece of shit.
Remember when Samuel L. Jackson was up for Best Supporting Actor in “Pulp Fiction” against Martin Landau in “Ed Wood”? Who won? Landau. Why? ‘Cause he was old. Let’s get real, Jackson was the better, hands down. But Landau got it because he is drawing his last breaths and the academy was feeling sorry for him. Maybe he should have been up for an award in “Crimes and Misdemeanors”. I don’t know. But there was no way he should have won for "Ed Wood".
Yet, I digress.
You know who should get the Oscar this year? Sean Penn for “Milk”.
Eastwood should have received the Oscar for “Million Dollar Baby.” But he didn’t. But now that he’s closing in on dead he’ll get the pity award. What a piece of shit.
I say, unless you’re REALLY starving for something to see on a Saturday afternoon (and I mean REALLY, REALLY starving) don’t waste you six-bucks and 2 hours of your life.
Saturday, August 09, 2008
Movie Review - "Pineapple Express"
Movie Review – “Pineapple Express”
Synopsis:
Lazy stoner Dale Denton (Seth Rogen) has only one reason to visit his equally lazy dealer Saul Silver (James Franco): to purchase weed, specifically, a rare new strain called Pineapple Express. But when Dale becomes the only witness to a murder by a crooked cop (Rosie Perez) and the city's most dangerous drug lord (Gary Cole), he panics and dumps his roach of Pineapple Express at the scene. Dale now has another reason to visit Saul: to find out if the weed is so rare that it can be traced back to him. And it is. As Dale and Saul run for their lives, they quickly discover that they’re not suffering from weed-fueled paranoia; incredibly, the bad guys really are hot on their trail and trying to figure out the fastest way to kill them both. --© Sony Pictures
I’m not a big fighter. As a matter of fact, I’ve only been involved in a bout of fisticuffs once – at the ripe old age of eight. And I didn't throw the first punch. (I lost…)
Also, I’m not into fighting. I’m more of a Buddhist. (Ohhmmmm…) But even so, I do have my swinging streak every once in a while. (Ohhmmm… Fuck you!)
Twice I’ve had the “I’m gonna fuck you up!” situation in my life. One that took place in Japan, one that happened here in Seattle. I’ll tell you about the one in Seattle. (I’ll tell you about the other one next time.)
It was around 1992 or ’93. I had just returned from my year of studying in Japan, and I was working at a movie theater while finishing out my last quarter at school. I used to catch a lot of shit from the guys I worked with. I grant you that I talked a bit too much about my time in Japan. But, man, these guys would flip me more shit than all get out.
In particular there was one guy named Milo. (Yea, Milo… That in itself is one fucked up name.) He was this semi-skinny guy who liked to wear black, and fancied himself some kind of artist / bohemian type. He had this bleached blonde bed-head hair, and a little billy goat’s gruff thing growing off of his chin. (Also bleached to match his hair.)
Anyway, he and most of the other people there would sit around rapping the lyrics to some song.
Usually Cypress Hill’s Hand on the Glock:
(Cuz I put away the shotgun - borrow me a glock - Took a little trip to the funky weed spot - tried to jack me - but homey got shot - la-la-la-lalala-la!)
Anyway, one day I was standing behind the concession stand with my head down in my books studying for some class I was taking, and Milo (just imagine that I’m saying his name in a really nasally, nastily, sarcastic tone) said something to me, or about me, that just made my head pop.
Usually I just kept taking all the shit they’d hand out. But Milo just hit the button one too many times and I ran out from behind the stand and literally was no more than three inches from his nose.
“I’ve been taking your shit for too fucking long. All I do is listen to your bohemian bullshit and fucked up rapping and I’m fucking sick of it! Now, if you’d like to walk outside of this lobby I’d be more than happy to follow. ‘Cause - I’m - going - to - fuck - ing - kill - you.”
Milo must have been thinking, Oh shit, ‘cause his eyes were darting every which way. And everyone else – his friends, partners in crime, everyone – was just backing up. There was no fucking way in hell that they were going to get involved in this one.
Maybe because they thought this was Milo’s shit slinging and his alone that popped this bubble. I don’t really know.
Maybe they knew that there was going to be blood?
It may very well have been my blood for all I knew. But the way I was spun, I doubt it.
I didn’t move. Milo took the first move – backwards.
I guess I had that look that told him that he knew he was a dead man. At least I'd like to think that.
After that day, still, none of them liked me. Nor I them. But finally there was a respect.
Maybe ‘cause they thought I’d go postal?
(Cuz I put away the shotgun - borrow me a glock - Took a little trip to the funky weed spot - tried to jack me - but homey got shot _la-la-la-lalala-la!)
Yet, I digress…
Pineapple Express
From beginning to end this move is a roll on the floor. Judd Apatow once again makes a film that breaks all the rules to make a good film.
Usually films based on stoners are, at best, little chuckles, but this one is a belly shaker.
And I love Seth Rogan. (He co-wrote the film.) He plays the perfect marijuana loving process server. (Now who could ever think of that as a film character?) And his hook up, James Franco, plays a great stoner that has that extra little something that goes beyond that idiot stoner character that you usually see in films like Dazed and Confused.
Some of the films set up is a bit simple – stoner guys with great weed somehow get into trouble and are chased by the bad drug cartel type guy. But the film goes around this story in such a way that makes it really interesting.
And finally – Finally! – Rosie Perez has been given enough language lessons to wipe out enough of her Spanish accent to make her totally understandable.
This film has one of the greatest gun battles I’ve seen in a long, long time. (Toes getting blown off always deserves a few extra points in my book.) AK-47s, 44s, 9mms, knives-o-fury, Chinese guys dressed as ninjas… Fuck yea!
CNN I guess had a piece about whether stoner flick promotes smoking pot to the point that it will push kids into experimenting with it.
Fuck off!
No movie ever pushed me into trying it. As a matter of fact, I hate the shit.
Now shut up and pass the buddha…
To quote Seth Rogan, "A weed movie’s like a horror movie or a sci-fi movie. To (studios) it’s a genre that only some people like."
So all y’all goody-goodies can blow me. This movie rocks!
My rating:
matinee – fuck yes!
drive-in – FUCK YES!
Synopsis:
Lazy stoner Dale Denton (Seth Rogen) has only one reason to visit his equally lazy dealer Saul Silver (James Franco): to purchase weed, specifically, a rare new strain called Pineapple Express. But when Dale becomes the only witness to a murder by a crooked cop (Rosie Perez) and the city's most dangerous drug lord (Gary Cole), he panics and dumps his roach of Pineapple Express at the scene. Dale now has another reason to visit Saul: to find out if the weed is so rare that it can be traced back to him. And it is. As Dale and Saul run for their lives, they quickly discover that they’re not suffering from weed-fueled paranoia; incredibly, the bad guys really are hot on their trail and trying to figure out the fastest way to kill them both. --© Sony Pictures
I’m not a big fighter. As a matter of fact, I’ve only been involved in a bout of fisticuffs once – at the ripe old age of eight. And I didn't throw the first punch. (I lost…)
Also, I’m not into fighting. I’m more of a Buddhist. (Ohhmmmm…) But even so, I do have my swinging streak every once in a while. (Ohhmmm… Fuck you!)
Twice I’ve had the “I’m gonna fuck you up!” situation in my life. One that took place in Japan, one that happened here in Seattle. I’ll tell you about the one in Seattle. (I’ll tell you about the other one next time.)
It was around 1992 or ’93. I had just returned from my year of studying in Japan, and I was working at a movie theater while finishing out my last quarter at school. I used to catch a lot of shit from the guys I worked with. I grant you that I talked a bit too much about my time in Japan. But, man, these guys would flip me more shit than all get out.
In particular there was one guy named Milo. (Yea, Milo… That in itself is one fucked up name.) He was this semi-skinny guy who liked to wear black, and fancied himself some kind of artist / bohemian type. He had this bleached blonde bed-head hair, and a little billy goat’s gruff thing growing off of his chin. (Also bleached to match his hair.)
Anyway, he and most of the other people there would sit around rapping the lyrics to some song.
Usually Cypress Hill’s Hand on the Glock:
(Cuz I put away the shotgun - borrow me a glock - Took a little trip to the funky weed spot - tried to jack me - but homey got shot - la-la-la-lalala-la!)
Anyway, one day I was standing behind the concession stand with my head down in my books studying for some class I was taking, and Milo (just imagine that I’m saying his name in a really nasally, nastily, sarcastic tone) said something to me, or about me, that just made my head pop.
Usually I just kept taking all the shit they’d hand out. But Milo just hit the button one too many times and I ran out from behind the stand and literally was no more than three inches from his nose.
“I’ve been taking your shit for too fucking long. All I do is listen to your bohemian bullshit and fucked up rapping and I’m fucking sick of it! Now, if you’d like to walk outside of this lobby I’d be more than happy to follow. ‘Cause - I’m - going - to - fuck - ing - kill - you.”
Milo must have been thinking, Oh shit, ‘cause his eyes were darting every which way. And everyone else – his friends, partners in crime, everyone – was just backing up. There was no fucking way in hell that they were going to get involved in this one.
Maybe because they thought this was Milo’s shit slinging and his alone that popped this bubble. I don’t really know.
Maybe they knew that there was going to be blood?
It may very well have been my blood for all I knew. But the way I was spun, I doubt it.
I didn’t move. Milo took the first move – backwards.
I guess I had that look that told him that he knew he was a dead man. At least I'd like to think that.
After that day, still, none of them liked me. Nor I them. But finally there was a respect.
Maybe ‘cause they thought I’d go postal?
(Cuz I put away the shotgun - borrow me a glock - Took a little trip to the funky weed spot - tried to jack me - but homey got shot _la-la-la-lalala-la!)
Yet, I digress…
Pineapple Express
From beginning to end this move is a roll on the floor. Judd Apatow once again makes a film that breaks all the rules to make a good film.
Usually films based on stoners are, at best, little chuckles, but this one is a belly shaker.
And I love Seth Rogan. (He co-wrote the film.) He plays the perfect marijuana loving process server. (Now who could ever think of that as a film character?) And his hook up, James Franco, plays a great stoner that has that extra little something that goes beyond that idiot stoner character that you usually see in films like Dazed and Confused.
Some of the films set up is a bit simple – stoner guys with great weed somehow get into trouble and are chased by the bad drug cartel type guy. But the film goes around this story in such a way that makes it really interesting.
And finally – Finally! – Rosie Perez has been given enough language lessons to wipe out enough of her Spanish accent to make her totally understandable.
This film has one of the greatest gun battles I’ve seen in a long, long time. (Toes getting blown off always deserves a few extra points in my book.) AK-47s, 44s, 9mms, knives-o-fury, Chinese guys dressed as ninjas… Fuck yea!
CNN I guess had a piece about whether stoner flick promotes smoking pot to the point that it will push kids into experimenting with it.
Fuck off!
No movie ever pushed me into trying it. As a matter of fact, I hate the shit.
Now shut up and pass the buddha…
To quote Seth Rogan, "A weed movie’s like a horror movie or a sci-fi movie. To (studios) it’s a genre that only some people like."
So all y’all goody-goodies can blow me. This movie rocks!
My rating:
matinee – fuck yes!
drive-in – FUCK YES!
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Movie Review - "Wall-E"
Synopsis:
After hundreds of lonely years of doing what he was built for, WALL•E (short for Waste Allocation Load Lifter Earth-Class) discovers a new purpose in life (besides collecting knick-knacks) when he meets a sleek search robot named EVE. EVE comes to realize that WALL•E has inadvertently stumbled upon the key to the planet’s future, and races back to space to report her findings to the humans (who have been eagerly awaiting word that it is safe to return home). Meanwhile, WALL•E chases EVE across the galaxy and sets into motion one of the most exciting and imaginative comedy adventures ever brought to the big screen.
So the guy says, "Pussy!"
Yet, I digress...
Wall-E
It's a film about what happens when Wal-Mart is allowed to take over the world. (Too late...)
My Rating:
Matinee - Oscar worthy
Drive-in - fan-fucking-tastic
Batman - The Dark Knight
Synopsis: Director Christopher Nolan returns to Gotham City with this sequel to the critical and fan favorite BATMAN BEGINS. In THE DARK KNIGHT, Batman (Christian Bale) squares off against a new foe: the Joker (Heath Ledger).
There's this online radio station I listen to, Slacker.com. And about 90% of the time while I'm plinking around on this thing I turn on the punk station. Classic punk/hardcore, mostly from the '80s. Y'know, Dead Kennedys, Stiff Little Fingers, Wasted Youth, Misfits, etc. You get the idea.
I play it and let it roll in one out one ear and out the other, not really thinking about it, nor even really listening. I guess it's like some old fuck listening the "oldies" station on FM. I dunno.
But I sat back for a few seconds just breathing in, and I caught myself listening.
Jeezus Khrist! Did we actually sing this shit? Let alone, did we actually believe it? I mean, every other phrase was, "Fuck authority!" and "We're the true society! Your's is fake! Fuck you!"
It's not that I'm turning my back on it. 'Cause gawd knows that from time to time I still bleach my hair blonde (which my wife hates) or, as it is now, have it colored a nice hue of blue-black (which my wife is not thrilled with, but can tolerate). But I can think back when I had my mohawk (and it was a beautiful one) and kilt and actually believed that a bunch of us were going to just flip all this shit on it's ass.
Now really. What fuckin' naiveté. Fuck authority? Gimme anarchy?
I will grant you this, it beats out most of the shit you hear on the radio in terms of making you think. Or did it? I think it did. I hope it did.
Now if my little girl told me to fuck off and shove my authority up my ass I'd a) be totally surprised 'cause she's only three years old; b) drop kick her to Cincinnati.
Anarchy? Yikes! I'm not going by the bomb throwing definition of anarchy. I'm thinking of the actual absence of government and absolute freedom of the individual, regarded as a political ideal; the economic system of free association of bartering for goods and services. Right. And a sixteen year old kid has the grasp of that concept how?
So that started running through my head. I was saying to myself how much I love this music, but gawd we were kinda stupid. Then I thanked my lucky stars that in the mid-eighties Sub Pop came to light and busted out of the kiddie hardcore that punk rock was becoming. I pondered all those great bands that came out of Sub Pop at that time and "FUCK! I'm getting OLD!"
Yet I digress…
Batman – The Dark Knight
This movie was looooooong. Two hours and thirty-two minutes. Fuck… But, really, I didn't notice it all that much.
That fucker keeps up a really good clip.
There was one point where it felt like there was a natural ending, but it wasn't. It kept going. And I was trying to wrap my mind around why the credits weren't rolling. But that "false ending" (as it seemed to me) worked its way out to carry on – and made the real ending work that much better.
Anyway, out of that to this… I don't know if you've seen the prior film, Batman Begins, but this film gleefully carries a lot of the harsh darkness that the newer version of Batman demands and deserves. (As compared to the Batman films back in the late '80s that were more lighthearted romps in the daisy fields of comic book realities.) This flick is dark, harsh and can fuck with your brain.
ALL RIGHT!
Heath Ledger (rest his soul) makes Jack Nicholson's Joker look like your Grandma Millie, sitting on her porch with a nice glass of iced tea, that old lady smell wafting from inside the house. I mean, you're talking about one twisted mutherfukker.
And Christian Bale still takes it to the limit. He's one bad-ass dude. (I'll always connect him in my mind to American Psycho, which makes his Batman all that better to me.)
The ideas of evil behind the Joker are great. The writers must have done a lot of peyote and hit the pipe simultaneously to come up with some of the ways to fuck with people. I think that Ledger may have hit it a few times with them to find the way to play the character.
Wow.
I had a nice buttered corn (they went a little light on the butter, however) and a yummy Dr. Pepper to make life even a bit better.
My Rating:
Matinee – absolutely
Drive-in – abso-FUCKIN'-lutely
Movie Review - "Hellboy 2: The Golden Army"
Synopsis: With a signature blend of action, humor and character-based spectacle, the saga of the world's toughest, kitten-loving hero from Hell continues to unfold in Hellboy 2: The Golden Army. Bigger muscle, badder weapons and more ungodly villains arrive in an epic vision of imagination from Oscar®-nominated director Guillermo del Toro (Pan's Labyrinth, Hellboy). After an ancient truce existing between humankind and the invisible realm of the fantastic is broken, hell on Earth is ready to erupt. A ruthless leader who treads the world above and the one below defies his bloodline and awakens an unstoppable army of creatures. Now, it's up to the planet's toughest, roughest superhero to battle the merciless dictator and his marauders. He may be red. He may be horned. He may be misunderstood. But when you need the job done right, it's time to call in Hellboy. Along with his expanding team in the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Development--pyrokinetic girlfriend Liz, aquatic empath Abe and protoplasmic mystic Johann--the BPRD will travel between the surface strata and the unseen magical one, where creatures of fantasy become corporeal. And Hellboy, a creature of two worlds who's accepted by neither, must choose between the life he knows and an unknown destiny that beckons him. -- © Universal Pictures
Y'know, I was thinking about writing about SP20 or some bullshit like that. But whatever I had in my mind has been totally wiped out over the last few days. Fuck it. I'm exhausted.
I've been laying (lying?) in bed hoping, wishing, that someone one would put a bullet in my head so that I could shake this goddamn cold. Seriously.
And what's worse – and this is a real capper – my friend flew over from Japan to see us play the festival. So I wasn't able to really hang out her. But what time I did talk to her (usually at 3am) was spent by going through the unbelievably eye-rolling conversation having to do with the break up with her boyfriend. And asking me how long it took for my heartache to end when my fiancé had left me – 13 years ago.
She talks all the time about how she's over him, but them comes a few beers and, "Me thinks thou doth protest too much."
But all this goes on as my body begins to ache, my head hurts, I cough up green shit outta my lungs and I don't have any NyQuil in this whole fucking house.
Anyway, the show went fine.
Yet, I digress.
Hellboy II: The Golden Army
Who in the royal fuck said this was a good movie?
My original intention was to go see Hancock but that was supposed to be a so-so flick. And a friend of mine just got back from China and we figured that we'd go see a movie that got some good press. Therefore – Hellboy.
I had my reliably greasy popcorn and Mr. Pibb in hand and was ready to settle in the next 120-minutes.
So, I settled… And settled… And I tried to settle some more…
And I just had to rush off to the "euphemism" to make sure that I didn't explode. And that was the dead giveaway that this movie was complete shite.
I never, ever rush off to the euphemism during a film. Never. But if I don't give a shit that I miss some time 'cause I know it ain't gonna hurt me, fuck it. My bladder comes first.
I even took a little more time to peruse the paper that was sitting on a near by table.
As the credits rolled I looked over to my friend. And she said, "That wasn't the worst movie that I've seen but it was pretty damn close."
BINGO!
Okay, is there a story? Yea. But you've seen the whole story in the trailer.
Are there special effects? Yea. But nothing that you've never seen before.
Big fucking deal.
The squirrels in my backyard are destroying my patio furniture. I think I'd rather have that happen than deal with that movie.
My daughter keeps jonesin' for more Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. I'd rather have to see the same episode a thousand times than see this movie.
Maybe, just maybe, listening to my friend's heartache stories with this cold whacking me upside the head is better than this 2-hour waste of celluloid.
My Rating:
Matinee – not worth it, even it were save your life.
Drive-in – even a drive-in can't save it
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Movie Review - "The Love Gugu"
A self-help guru named Pitka devotes his life to unknotting the romantic entanglements of troubled couples. As a young child, Pitka is abandoned at the gates of an ashram in India and taken in by kindly gurus. An American by birth, Pitka absorbs the lessons taught to him by his teachers and later returns to the United States to become a leading authority on spirituality and self-help. While Pitka's methods are decidedly unorthodox, they may be the only means of ensuring that the Toronto Maple Leafs win the coveted Stanley Cup. The Maple Leaf's star Darren Roanoke is in trouble. His estranged wife has recently begun dating L.A. Kings star Jacques Grande in a vengeful effort to send her husband's career into a tailspin. It is up to Pitka to get Roanoake and his wife back together, and back on track to win the Stanley Cup. ~ Jason Buchanan, All Movie Guide
I need to move on to politics for the just for a moment (in a long time) on this thing I oh so loosely call a blog.
I’ve been reading this book called The Great Derangement by Rolling Stone associate editor Mike Taibbi. This book is fucking hilarious – and angry. (Jeezus, who wouldn’t be these days?) And the message seems somewhat clear to me. At least my interpretation of it.
Anyway, it got me a-thinkin’ about my time in the legislature. (Now to take a deep breath to blow out this air really hard.)
I was a campaign manager for a woman who ran for the state legislature. In my position I was supposed to be getting paid. Fat chance. We ran a campaign on such a shoestring budget that I didn’t see dime one. So we made a deal that I would be her legislative assistant (LA) and follow her down to Olympia should she win.
Thank god for me she did.
I liked my job. I liked my boss.
There are two different kinds of bosses in the legislature – anal and political. The anal bosses’ LAs are basically secretaries. The political ones usually take into consideration what a constituent says but use their LA as a sounding board. My boss, thank god, was political.
Having my boss be of the political variety is what got me into trouble a lot, and I was damn fucking proud of it. (And I got a lot of pats on the pack from other LAs. And a lot of mean fucking stares form other legislators.)
The first time I got in trouble I was on my lunch break. There was a pro-life rally on the steps of the capitol and I went to go take a look. There were some counter protesters (count ‘em, three), and I decided to grab a sign for pro-choice and join them. Fuck it.
The daily newspaper was there. I guess I looked a bit outta place – a guy wearing a suit, tie, and long wool overcoat. They decided to interview me. They asked who I was, why was I there, who did I work for. Low and behold, I made it into the next day's 'paper.
The Democratic Caucus saw that was taken aback. They came straight up to me and said, 'You can’t do that!' I asked why and they told me that it goes against House rules for me to take part in any political actions while at work.
'Ah ha!' I retorted, 'But I wasn’t working.' I was at lunch, which is considered not to be working. Thereby I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Basically – “Fuck you.”
They asked my boss to tell me to reign it in a bit. Her I would listen to.
My next run in came when I had said that I thought that a legislator was a DINO (Democrat In Name Only). That’s where it started. I can’t remember the whole story, but somehow it came to me that someone named “Alex” went off about him in a really nasty way. And this legislator let it be known that he was going to try to kick my ass out of the capitol. Even my boss was a little pissed off. Not at me, but at him.
He came to my office early one morning (well, my boss’ office) for a little “talk.” He started to try to give me the once over twice saying that I was bad mouthing him – saying some really shitty things.
I asked, 'What makes you think it’s me? Couldn’t it be your LA?' (Who coincidently was named Alex.) 'Oh no', he said, 'He’d never say that stuff.' (Wanna make a fucking bet? But I wasn’t going to rat him out.)
And – boom – the shit hit the fan. People all the way down the other side of the building could hear me dressing this guy down. This guy was flummoxed. Every conceivable epithet came flying out of me for directly accusing me without asking whether what he heard was true or rumor. He stared at me like, like, like… Like I just broke his fucking nose.
From that point on he was as sweet as a sunshine smile to me. He even brought his wife and child around to meet me. (And they were a very nice family, I must admit.)
I got in trouble again. By then my reputation was making its way over to the senate side of the legislature. And I loved it. (One of my best friends over in the senate, his boss thought it was just hilarious that some junior LA taking some of these people on. Chalk one big fish up for my side.)
Next was the bleached blonde hair. That just got rolled eyes. They didn’t like it. But they couldn’t do anything about that.
Then came the big shit.
One of the other LAs, a really sweet girl, would constantly get publicly humiliated in front of everyone by her boss. Yelled at. Called an “idiot.” “Useless.” A “fool.” And for a lot of us, that was it.
In our weekly D Caucus meeting for LAs we asked what we could do. The head of the Caucus was bound by rules to not tell us, but that we could put up suggestions. I had previously noted in my head that among all the rules was a little caveat that read that any of these rules for us can be changed by our bosses at any time without notice. The rules were totally arbitrary. In other words, we were fucked.
What were some of our grievances?
To move to Olympia for work we had all expenses came from our own pockets. That made it quite difficult for those LAs from the eastern part of the state. The Reps had all expenses paid.
The reps had a $40/day per diem. We got nothing.
We could get fired at anytime, for any reason – which is in itself illegal for any other worker. But not for us.
Our boss could talk shit about us, yell at us, humiliate us, in front of everyone and suffer no consequences.
The head of the D Caucus asked what we thought we could, should, do. And we would write them on the board and we would discuss. Mostly it was mamby-pamby shit. Please’s and thank you’s. Ask politely to not ask in such a way. Spine-be-damned kind of actions. Each one written on the board.
I couldn't take it. I raised my hand. I said that in spite of any rule we asked for we’d be fucked. (I said that in almost that wording.) I said, “Form a union.”
The head of the D Caucus was, prior to working in the legislature, a good labor man. On the board he wrote, “UNION” underlined three times. He kept tapping the chalk to the board over his shoulder to “UNION.” I had hit something good.
Good for us. Fucked for me.
I was one of the few “Rebellious Young Turks” who was now in the crosshairs of just about every legislator – Democrat and Republican. I expected it from the Republicans. But the Democrats?
Some of the good labor Ds put together bills to give us all the rights as other employees in Washington State, including the right to unionize. I called an out of state legislator who had passed such a bill in his state too see how his bill was put together. Funniest of all about that call, the bill was written and passed by a Republican.
Each bill died in Democratic headed committees - never came up for discussion.
Some of us LAs attempted to form a union anyway. Unfortunately, many of the LAs went spineless.
It wasn’t long after that that my boss lost her election. So it was also my time to leave. But I had a great fucking run. A magnificent run.
In all, it was exactly as one of my labor lobbyist friends had told me as I stated above – I was attempting to step on the toes of power.
But he also told me I did a good thing the whole time I was there.
“Shake that fucking tree, and call bullshit when you see it motherfucker.” (Well, he didn’t say “motherfucker.” But you get what I mean.)
Now I’m finished patting myself on the back.
Yet, I digress.
The Love Guru
This film is not the best of Mike Myers films. As a matter of fact, it's his worst.
It’s chock full of penis jokes. Some are funny and hit the mark. Some just fall flat. (Or flacid…?)
Some bits make it almost worth seeing. But you have to be just old enough to get the joke. (The “Electric Family” joke made me roll all over the floor. The little 15 year-olds sitting behind me had no fucking idea what he was joking about which made it even funnier.)
The Indian film joke was also beyond words. I love those Indian blockbuster dancing films – one hilarious dancing piece after another. Not to mention that there are enough hot Indian dancing women to keep me sitting.
But like I said, it’s so borderline I was sometimes hurting. Most of the time I sat there wanting to laugh. I tried to find something to make me laugh within the jokes, but I just couldn’t find it.
I know it sounds dumb, but I couldn’t find the focus here. Was it on Myers or was it on the hockey, or was it on getting the relationship between the hockey player and his wife? (Mother? French Canadian hockey player?) It’s garbled.
Usually I don’t give a shit about that, but I couldn’t find which way the jokes were going to fly.
I kinda wish that the focus would be on just Myers’ character and leave most everything else as strictly a side story. Or do I? Maybe I’d have just gotten dick joke after dick joke - which got tiring after the first five, no two, minutes.
I was hoping that they might stay on some of the more non-cock jokes. The best of the bunch were the "GURU" jokes. (“GURU stands for ‘Gee yoU aRe yoU™’” Everything is trademarked.) I was hoping I’d have seen more of this: (WARNING! If you really plan on seeing this film don't watch!
If they would have only stuck to that. But since it doesn't...
My Rating:
Matinee – mmm... nah...
Drive In – may be passable
Friday, June 27, 2008
Movie Review - "Wanted"
Synopsis:
Wesley Gibson (James McAvoy), is the most disaffected, cube-dwelling drone the planet had ever known. His boss chews him out hourly, his girlfriend ignores him routinely and his life plods on interminably. Everyone is certain this disengaged slacker would amount to nothing. There is little else for Wes to do but wile away the days and die in his slow, clock-punching rut. Until he meets a woman named Fox (Angelina Jolie). After his estranged father is murdered, the deadly sexy Fox recruits Wes into the Fraternity, a secret society that trains Wes to avenge his dad’s death by unlocking his dormant powers. As she teaches him how to develop lightning-quick reflexes and phenomenal agility, Wes discovers this team lives by an ancient, unbreakable code: carry out the death orders given by fate itself. --© Universal Pictures
Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
This has been my life for the past few days: “OUCH!”
My nail on my right big toe was too long. Hey, I had to cut them. I don’t want them cutting through my socks, y’know. So what do you do? You’ve got two choices: either use the nail clippers and cut the fucker down to size. Or you use your thumb hoping to catch a hold of the nail and rip.
I usually do better when I rip, but this time I used the clippers. Stupid fucking me.
So I made it about three-quarters of the way around and everything is just dandy and then… CLIP! I dug that puppy in at a really steep angle that will cause pain that no man is supposed to endure. Thus the beginning of, “Ow! Ow! Ow!”
But it doesn’t stop there. No. I had to get the rest of it out, so I just bore down and took it like a man. (Right….) Eventually, after about 2 hours of writhing in pain, I got the son of a bitch off. So I figure that there’s going to be some pain for the next couple of days because of the raw skin. But it just keeps hurting.
I’m figuring to myself, what the fuck is going on? Then, oh no, it tore at an angle that it’s coming in as a horrid hangnail. Now every movement, any bit of pressure, anytime one toe rubs up against it I’m reminded that it’s there.
And one of the main things that runs through my head any little bit of pain rolls by I think to myself, next time – rip it off instead.
Yet, I digress.
Wanted
Wow. Uh… Wow.
Do you like blood? Do you like double fisted shooting? Do you like just some strange shit? If you do, all you can say is, wow.
And I’m talking about a good kind of wow. This film is like if the Matrix were good and without Keanu Reeves (thank god), and somehow make it that you can suspend disbelief and the laws of physics and think that it could be real.
I’m talking about bending bullets through the air so that they go around buildings and hit their target right between the eyes from miles away. I’m talking about guys fighting each other and the only way they don’t kill each other is to make sure that their bullet hits the other guy’s bullet (shown in slow motion, of course).
In this film you can learn how to use a rat, nitrate, a watch and peanut butter to blow up a building.
In this film you can learn how to use a dead guy as a shield. You say you’ve seen that one before? How about as a shield while shooting your target through the hole in the dead guys head?
In this film you learn that Angelina Jolie has a really nice ass.
I’ll grant you that there are some things that are corny in this film, and it all has to do with dialogue. And it’s mostly dialogue by Morgan Freeman (as the head of the Fraternity). They are just lines that you just look at the screen and say, “Oh fuck… Now that was stupid.
And the ending is a bit too easy. But I really didn’t care. Really, I didn’t.
Double fisted shooting and blood. That’s what I was in the mood for, and that’s what I got.
Wait. There was one big problem in seeing this film. Seeing a 10am matinee reeks havoc one one’s stomach if you try to eat overly buttered popcorn and drink a root beer. Maybe I should have waited for later in the day after I ate a good breakfast rich in vitamins and minerals, along with nice tall glasses of milk and juice.
My rating:
Matinee – very, very good
Drive-in – perfect!
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Movie Review - "Get Smart"
Movie Review – “Get Smart”
So I’ve got these three cats: Mia, Gary and Leon Trotskitty. Mia is old, old, old. She’s about seventeen, I guess. She’s hit that age where she has decided to take a crap in the spot of her choosing – not in the catbox. Damn it!
We just moved into our new house about two years ago. It’s brand new construction: all new appliances, hardwood floors, brand new carpets. Luckily for us Mia has found her spot on the hardwood floor instead of the carpet. (Bet you thought I was going to say that she shits on the carpets, didn’t you?)
Nah, I was just leading you into the carpet story.
Carpets… Brand spankin’ new carpets. Oh, the beauty of brand new carpets. And then your cats start to gack up fur balls on them.
Fur balls aren’t that bad. You can basically clean up the whole thing with very little, if any, stain.
Kitty puke. Now that’s a bit harder to deal with. ‘Cause now you’re dealing with not only the cat food that’s being ralphed, you’re dealing with stomach acids that come up with it. That decides to hold in a bit deeper. Now you’ve got a stain that’s a bit harder to deal with.
Worst of all – Thai tea! I know, it’s got nothing to do with cats. But fuck me if Thai tea doesn’t kill your carpet. Even if your carpet is a light tan color, that fucking orange Thai tea will eat it alive! I have tried every little trick in the book. Every carpet cleaner.
Mother fuck Thai tea! I think that Thailand made Thai tea in order to ruin carpets. And next time I order Thai food, if they screw up my order guess what’s going to splatter all around their restaurant.
Yet, I digress…
“Get Smart”
Synopsis: Maxwell Smart (Steve Carell) is on a mission to thwart the latest plot for world domination by the evil crime syndicate known as KAOS. When the headquarters of U.S. spy agency Control is attacked and the identities of its agents compromised, the Chief (Alan Arkin) has no choice but to promote his ever-eager analyst Maxwell Smart, who has always dreamt of working in the field alongside stalwart superstar Agent 23 (Dwayne Johnson). Smart is partnered instead with the lovely-but-lethal veteran Agent 99 (Anne Hathaway). Given little field experience and even less time, Smart-armed with nothing but a few spy-tech gadgets and his unbridled enthusiasm-must thwart the doomsday plans of KAOS head Siegfried (Terence Stamp). --© Warner Bros.
I liked this movie a lot. The best part was that I didn’t have to pay for it.
I’m not saying that it was good because I didn’t have to pay. That was just a little perk.
I was hoping that the film was going to be funny. I was right. Very funny.
It had some of my favorites in it – Steve Carell, Alan Arkin… And they played their parts perfectly. Carell played the bumbling agent just right. Not too stupid, but just dumb enough.
Arkin played the part he always plays best. If you’ve ever seen So, I Married An Axe Murderer or the original The In-laws, you’d know what I mean. Just enough strength without looking too comic book.
And I’ve grown to really like Dwayne Johnson. He can act. He really can act. Great comic timing. And thank fucking god he’s no longer going as Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. That just is so uh-tarded. Just as uh-tarded at NASCAR. (”Vroom-vroom! Where’s my Pepsi? Where’s my Pabst? Hey, when are they going to make a right turn?”)
I will grant you one thing, if it weren’t for the line-up of people in the cast, the film would have a few chuckles. Then it would be your average summer yuk-yuk film. But it was cast perfectly. So the dumb jokes come out funny. I like dumb. But if wasn’t Carell, Arkin, and Johnson, this flick would only be somewhat funnier than Strange Wilderness. (And we all know how shitty that was…)
The popcorn was good. Just enough butter.
The main drawback - no Dr. Pepper. I had to drink regular Coke. SHIT!
My rating:
Matinee – really good
Drive-in – even better
So I’ve got these three cats: Mia, Gary and Leon Trotskitty. Mia is old, old, old. She’s about seventeen, I guess. She’s hit that age where she has decided to take a crap in the spot of her choosing – not in the catbox. Damn it!
We just moved into our new house about two years ago. It’s brand new construction: all new appliances, hardwood floors, brand new carpets. Luckily for us Mia has found her spot on the hardwood floor instead of the carpet. (Bet you thought I was going to say that she shits on the carpets, didn’t you?)
Nah, I was just leading you into the carpet story.
Carpets… Brand spankin’ new carpets. Oh, the beauty of brand new carpets. And then your cats start to gack up fur balls on them.
Fur balls aren’t that bad. You can basically clean up the whole thing with very little, if any, stain.
Kitty puke. Now that’s a bit harder to deal with. ‘Cause now you’re dealing with not only the cat food that’s being ralphed, you’re dealing with stomach acids that come up with it. That decides to hold in a bit deeper. Now you’ve got a stain that’s a bit harder to deal with.
Worst of all – Thai tea! I know, it’s got nothing to do with cats. But fuck me if Thai tea doesn’t kill your carpet. Even if your carpet is a light tan color, that fucking orange Thai tea will eat it alive! I have tried every little trick in the book. Every carpet cleaner.
Mother fuck Thai tea! I think that Thailand made Thai tea in order to ruin carpets. And next time I order Thai food, if they screw up my order guess what’s going to splatter all around their restaurant.
Yet, I digress…
“Get Smart”
Synopsis: Maxwell Smart (Steve Carell) is on a mission to thwart the latest plot for world domination by the evil crime syndicate known as KAOS. When the headquarters of U.S. spy agency Control is attacked and the identities of its agents compromised, the Chief (Alan Arkin) has no choice but to promote his ever-eager analyst Maxwell Smart, who has always dreamt of working in the field alongside stalwart superstar Agent 23 (Dwayne Johnson). Smart is partnered instead with the lovely-but-lethal veteran Agent 99 (Anne Hathaway). Given little field experience and even less time, Smart-armed with nothing but a few spy-tech gadgets and his unbridled enthusiasm-must thwart the doomsday plans of KAOS head Siegfried (Terence Stamp). --© Warner Bros.
I liked this movie a lot. The best part was that I didn’t have to pay for it.
I’m not saying that it was good because I didn’t have to pay. That was just a little perk.
I was hoping that the film was going to be funny. I was right. Very funny.
It had some of my favorites in it – Steve Carell, Alan Arkin… And they played their parts perfectly. Carell played the bumbling agent just right. Not too stupid, but just dumb enough.
Arkin played the part he always plays best. If you’ve ever seen So, I Married An Axe Murderer or the original The In-laws, you’d know what I mean. Just enough strength without looking too comic book.
And I’ve grown to really like Dwayne Johnson. He can act. He really can act. Great comic timing. And thank fucking god he’s no longer going as Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. That just is so uh-tarded. Just as uh-tarded at NASCAR. (”Vroom-vroom! Where’s my Pepsi? Where’s my Pabst? Hey, when are they going to make a right turn?”)
I will grant you one thing, if it weren’t for the line-up of people in the cast, the film would have a few chuckles. Then it would be your average summer yuk-yuk film. But it was cast perfectly. So the dumb jokes come out funny. I like dumb. But if wasn’t Carell, Arkin, and Johnson, this flick would only be somewhat funnier than Strange Wilderness. (And we all know how shitty that was…)
The popcorn was good. Just enough butter.
The main drawback - no Dr. Pepper. I had to drink regular Coke. SHIT!
My rating:
Matinee – really good
Drive-in – even better
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Movie Review - "Kung Fu Panda"
"Kung Fu Panda" features Jack Black as Po the Panda, a lowly waiter in a noodle restaurant, who is a kung fu fanatic but whose shape doesn't exactly lend itself to kung fu fighting. In fact, Po's defining characteristic appears to be that he is the laziest of all the animals in ancient China. That's a problem because powerful enemies are at the gates, and all hopes have been pinned on a prophesy naming Po as the "Chosen One" to save the day. A group of martial arts masters are going to need a black belt in patience if they are going to turn this slacker panda into a kung fu fighter before it's too late.
Kids… Can’t live without ‘em. Can’t kick ‘em around the room.
My three year-old little girl has hit that age where everything is bright and shiny, cool and “gotta have it.” But she’s a good kid. She understands the concept of, “No.” She understands the difference between “I want”, and “I need.”
Thank gawd.
Unfortunately for me and the missus, my l’il darlin’ doesn’t understand the concept of rewards. She doesn’t get it when we say, ‘shit in the potty and you’ll get a Mickey Mouse toy!’ (Okay. We don’t say ‘shit’. But you get the point.)
Peeing in the potty is just fine. It’s that damn poop contest! (“What is ‘Things that drive me insane with frustration’ for $1000, Mr. Trebek”) I’ll win this adversarial battle one day. And hopefully sooner rather than later!
But as I said a couple of paragraphs back, she hasn’t quite grasped the notion of bribery. But my wife and I have one up on her. ‘Good Cop, Bad Cop.’ But I’ll be fucked, ‘cause I always have to be ‘Bad Cop.’ Not fair.
But damn if I ain’t fucked when it comes to my giving in to some things. Which brings me to this:
Yet, I digress…
Kung Fu Panda.
Well, how to explain it…
It’s cute.
It has a few good jokes in it that are even pleasant for adults.
I think that may be about it.
What drives me up the fucking wall is that it’s done in that CGI animation. I’m so goddamned tired of CGI animation. Why? ‘Cause this fucking movie is a sure thing to be nominated for an Oscar and possibly win! All these kiddie CGI animation movies win! AHHHH!
Persepolis should have won last year. But no! That fucking Ratatouille, Disney piss-off, Pixar jerk-me flick won. Always, always it’s the “Happy-happy joy-joy!” movies that win! Mutherfukk me!
Anyway, as I was saying. It’s cute. I could have been happier if they let some of the other characters have lines. And by other characters I mean the snake, whose voice is that of Lucy Liu. (Oh, how I love Lucy Liu!)
My rating:
Matinee – it’s okay, but harsh to sit through with a squirmy three year-old who forces you to go home three-quarters of the way through.
Drive in – it works better when you’ve got that three year-old ‘cause you can bring something else to entertain them.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Movie Review - "The Happening"
Synopsis:
An apocalyptic threat to humanity arrives out of the clear blue sky with a series of violent, inexplicable deaths spreading across the country. The cause of the terrifying phenomenon remains unknown, prompting science teacher Elliot Moore (Mark Wahlberg), his wife Alma (Zooey Deschanel) and his colleague Julian (John Leguizamo) to try to elude the invisible killer in Pennsylvania's farmland. Soon it becomes clear that no one is safe.
I'm sorry, but on this blog this time around there is no "Yet, I digress..." I just can't do it this time. And after reading this, you'll understand why.
Yet, I digress...
It's Friday the 13th. I can see the reason why they decided to release it today.
THE HORROR!!!
The horror of wasting six dollars for a matinee.
The horror of wasting an hour and thirty-one minutes.
I can see why they keep saying on the commercials that it is M. Night Shyamalan's first R-rated film. That's the only way they can sell it.
In the first five minutes you think that this is going to be really cool. (Blood and gore mixed in with suspense.) But it begins to go downhill - FAST! And just when you are glad that it's ending with only five minutes left and it can't go any deeper... Well... Wrong...
This is the worst piece of shite I have seen in years.
Is this review short?
You bet your ass it is.
It's only as long as the entertainment value this film provided.
To quote from one of the great films of all time, "The horror... The horror..."
(Forgive me Marlon.)
My rating:
RUN AWAY! IT'S WORSE THAN CATWOMAN!
Saturday, March 08, 2008
A Double Feature Movie Review - "Semi-Pro" and "The Bank Job"
I’m off on a bit of stream of consciousness lately.
What did I tell ya? What in the fuck did I tell you? They fucked over Persepolis for the Academy Award for best animated film! Who got it? Another fucking rated G, CGI movie by Disney about a rat! Another fucking kiddie flick! The academy is a piece of shit! This is what the best animation award is always going to be. Not "best animated film," but "best kiddie flick"! Those piece of shit muther-fukkers!
Hillary Clinton. Her last name starts in “C”, which reminds me that she is someone that rhymes with “bunt”. But if I say the word my wife hits me – hard! But I’m writing instead of talking so I can write it.
“Hillary Clinton is a cunt.”
Why is it that recovering junkies and people finally getting sober have to keep a “12 Step” journal? And why do they always want to read from it? And why is it’s the most sappy bullshit you’ve ever heard? And why, oh god why, do they always use the phrase, “Like a phoenix rising from the ashes…” ARGH!
My age is catching up with me. I have to wear glasses to read anything unless it is either, a) 10 feet away from my face, or b) like the Reader’s Digest for old fucks. Kill me now! Forty-two and fucked up. (But at the punk-rock show I can still clear floor with the best of ‘em!)
My cat is about 17 years old. She can’t quite reach parts of her fur anymore so it gets all matted and ratty. We tried to brush it out as best as we could but it’s like combing out Bob Marley’s dreads. (Okay, I know he’s dead, but…) I ended up having to shave her back where she can’t reach. Poor Mia now looks like a fucking kitty-poodle.
Fuck Girl Scouts and their cookies! I spent $20, and now I’m gonna puke! (Oh tagalongs! How I love you so!)
Woody Allen said that you can’t knock masturbation ‘cause it’s having sex with someone you love. But what if you’re suicidal?
Ah jeezus fucking khrist! Day light savings starts tomorrow. Day light savings can kiss my ass.
Yet, I digress…
Semi-Pro
Synopsis:
Will Ferrell stars in Semi-Pro, an outrageous comedy set in 1976 against the backdrop of the maverick ABA – a fast-paced, wild and crazy basketball league that rivaled the NBA and made a name for itself with innovations like the three-point shot and slam dunk contest. Ferrell plays Jackie Moon, a one-hit wonder who used the profits from the success of his chart-topping song “Love Me Sexy” to achieve his dream of owning a basketball team. But Moon’s franchise, the Flint Michigan Tropics, is the worst team in the league and in danger of folding when the ABA announces its plans to merge with the NBA. If they want to survive, Jackie and the Tropics must now do the seemingly impossible – win.
Will Ferrell… Wow… I know of only one person who hated one of my all-time favorites: Anchorman. (That’s right. I’m talking about you, Bebet! *hubba! hubba!*) He has the ability to take any other script that would fall flat and make it funny. Hilarious, even.
He uses his not too sexy physique to his comic advantage to make you cringe in laughter. (Usually ‘cause you can see a bit of it in yourself…?)
He even can play a somewhat sweet character, as he did in Stranger Than Fiction, and have you laughing at a pathetic character going insane.
He’s the closest thing these days that I know of as a comic genius.
I’ve only seen one film that he really fell flat in – Bewitched. That was just poorly written, and wouldn’t fly for anybody.
Okay, make it two movies that fell flat – Bewitched and Semi-Pro.
There are some funny scenes in this, but they aren’t tied into anything. They’re like non-sequiturs. Or where they supposed to be non-sequiturs? I don’t know.
They really rely on trying to get a laugh by saying “cock-sucker” a lot. The first scene they use it in truly is a good gag, but then it gets old.
The movie is a lot more entertaining if, and only if, you know the history behind the merger of the ABA and the NBA. There are little historical pieces placed inside the film that make it interesting and amusing should you spot them. But if you don’t know it, fuck it… It doesn’t mean anything to you, so why the fuck should you care?
If you really want to see it, just remember “The secret weapon” and “WE’RE NUMBER FOUR!”
My popcorn was too greasy…
‘Nuff said.
My rating on this one:
Matinee – If ya really got a few bucks to throw away, time to kill, and want to make an attempt to laugh, give it a shot. (But don’t say I didn’t warn ya.)
Drive-in – It might actually work okay.
Second feature:
The Bank Job
Synopsis:
Inspired by the infamous 1971 robbery that took place at the Lloyds Bank in Marylebone The highly-charged heist thriller tautly interweaves high-level corruption, murder and sexual scandal in 1970s England.
A car dealer with a dodgy past and new family, Terry has always avoided major-league scams. But when Martine a beautiful model from his old neighborhood, offers him a lead on a foolproof bank hit on London's Baker Street, Terry recognizes the opportunity of a lifetime. Martine targets a roomful of safe deposit boxes worth millions in cash and jewelry. But Terry and his crew don't realize the boxes also contain a treasure trove of dirty secrets - secrets that will thrust them into a deadly web of corruption and illicit scandal that spans London's criminal underworld, the highest echelons of the British government, and the Royal Family itself...the true story of a heist gone wrong...in all the right ways.
Okay, don’t let the preview fool you. It is nothing like the preview.
It’s not Ocean’s Eleven.
It’s not a run around, guns a-blazin’, fists-o-fury film.
I had hoped it was, since it stared Jason Statham of Transporter, Snatch, Crank and Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels fame. I was in the mood for a good punch out. But, alas, I got this.
And it was good. Really good. It sputtered in fits and starts here and their along the way. But all in all, pretty damn good.
Here are a bunch of truly regular guys (though they are crooked) who try to pull off one of the biggest heists in history. And to know that it was basically true is quite amusing.
I would say that the characters are well thought out, but they’re based on the real people. So that’s a gimme. Let’s just say that the actors pulled it off well.
Blackmail, corruption and bondage always get some kind of strange, sick satisfaction. No, ya sick bastard! You have to see the film to know what I’m getting at. (Hee! Hee! Hee!)
The story gets a bit confusing at times, but that’s okay. You catch up with it. (Still, I couldn’t quite understand what the woman with the “peace-sign bracelet” had to do with anything really related to the main story. Maybe I missed something. But I don’t think so.)
There were a couple of anachronistically wrong things, however. (The film takes place in 1971 and on the shop window is a sticker stating that they take Visa and MasterCard credit cards. There was no Visa card. It was BankAmericard until 1976. As the MasterCard was Master Charge until 1976, too. Not that you really give a shit, but it caught my eye.)
Is Statham trying to reach out a bit in this film to get away from his usual double-fisted gun-barreled days? Could be. He does pretty well in this vehicle, but shows his best in the last five minutes of the film.
They had Mr. Pibb. YEA!
But can you believe it? They tried to jip me! I had to go back for extra butter on my corn?!
My Rating:
Matinee – I’d go for it if I was you.
Drive-in – This would be a good stale popcorn drive-in flick.
What did I tell ya? What in the fuck did I tell you? They fucked over Persepolis for the Academy Award for best animated film! Who got it? Another fucking rated G, CGI movie by Disney about a rat! Another fucking kiddie flick! The academy is a piece of shit! This is what the best animation award is always going to be. Not "best animated film," but "best kiddie flick"! Those piece of shit muther-fukkers!
Hillary Clinton. Her last name starts in “C”, which reminds me that she is someone that rhymes with “bunt”. But if I say the word my wife hits me – hard! But I’m writing instead of talking so I can write it.
“Hillary Clinton is a cunt.”
Why is it that recovering junkies and people finally getting sober have to keep a “12 Step” journal? And why do they always want to read from it? And why is it’s the most sappy bullshit you’ve ever heard? And why, oh god why, do they always use the phrase, “Like a phoenix rising from the ashes…” ARGH!
My age is catching up with me. I have to wear glasses to read anything unless it is either, a) 10 feet away from my face, or b) like the Reader’s Digest for old fucks. Kill me now! Forty-two and fucked up. (But at the punk-rock show I can still clear floor with the best of ‘em!)
My cat is about 17 years old. She can’t quite reach parts of her fur anymore so it gets all matted and ratty. We tried to brush it out as best as we could but it’s like combing out Bob Marley’s dreads. (Okay, I know he’s dead, but…) I ended up having to shave her back where she can’t reach. Poor Mia now looks like a fucking kitty-poodle.
Fuck Girl Scouts and their cookies! I spent $20, and now I’m gonna puke! (Oh tagalongs! How I love you so!)
Woody Allen said that you can’t knock masturbation ‘cause it’s having sex with someone you love. But what if you’re suicidal?
Ah jeezus fucking khrist! Day light savings starts tomorrow. Day light savings can kiss my ass.
Yet, I digress…
Semi-Pro
Synopsis:
Will Ferrell stars in Semi-Pro, an outrageous comedy set in 1976 against the backdrop of the maverick ABA – a fast-paced, wild and crazy basketball league that rivaled the NBA and made a name for itself with innovations like the three-point shot and slam dunk contest. Ferrell plays Jackie Moon, a one-hit wonder who used the profits from the success of his chart-topping song “Love Me Sexy” to achieve his dream of owning a basketball team. But Moon’s franchise, the Flint Michigan Tropics, is the worst team in the league and in danger of folding when the ABA announces its plans to merge with the NBA. If they want to survive, Jackie and the Tropics must now do the seemingly impossible – win.
Will Ferrell… Wow… I know of only one person who hated one of my all-time favorites: Anchorman. (That’s right. I’m talking about you, Bebet! *hubba! hubba!*) He has the ability to take any other script that would fall flat and make it funny. Hilarious, even.
He uses his not too sexy physique to his comic advantage to make you cringe in laughter. (Usually ‘cause you can see a bit of it in yourself…?)
He even can play a somewhat sweet character, as he did in Stranger Than Fiction, and have you laughing at a pathetic character going insane.
He’s the closest thing these days that I know of as a comic genius.
I’ve only seen one film that he really fell flat in – Bewitched. That was just poorly written, and wouldn’t fly for anybody.
Okay, make it two movies that fell flat – Bewitched and Semi-Pro.
There are some funny scenes in this, but they aren’t tied into anything. They’re like non-sequiturs. Or where they supposed to be non-sequiturs? I don’t know.
They really rely on trying to get a laugh by saying “cock-sucker” a lot. The first scene they use it in truly is a good gag, but then it gets old.
The movie is a lot more entertaining if, and only if, you know the history behind the merger of the ABA and the NBA. There are little historical pieces placed inside the film that make it interesting and amusing should you spot them. But if you don’t know it, fuck it… It doesn’t mean anything to you, so why the fuck should you care?
If you really want to see it, just remember “The secret weapon” and “WE’RE NUMBER FOUR!”
My popcorn was too greasy…
‘Nuff said.
My rating on this one:
Matinee – If ya really got a few bucks to throw away, time to kill, and want to make an attempt to laugh, give it a shot. (But don’t say I didn’t warn ya.)
Drive-in – It might actually work okay.
Second feature:
The Bank Job
Synopsis:
Inspired by the infamous 1971 robbery that took place at the Lloyds Bank in Marylebone The highly-charged heist thriller tautly interweaves high-level corruption, murder and sexual scandal in 1970s England.
A car dealer with a dodgy past and new family, Terry has always avoided major-league scams. But when Martine a beautiful model from his old neighborhood, offers him a lead on a foolproof bank hit on London's Baker Street, Terry recognizes the opportunity of a lifetime. Martine targets a roomful of safe deposit boxes worth millions in cash and jewelry. But Terry and his crew don't realize the boxes also contain a treasure trove of dirty secrets - secrets that will thrust them into a deadly web of corruption and illicit scandal that spans London's criminal underworld, the highest echelons of the British government, and the Royal Family itself...the true story of a heist gone wrong...in all the right ways.
Okay, don’t let the preview fool you. It is nothing like the preview.
It’s not Ocean’s Eleven.
It’s not a run around, guns a-blazin’, fists-o-fury film.
I had hoped it was, since it stared Jason Statham of Transporter, Snatch, Crank and Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels fame. I was in the mood for a good punch out. But, alas, I got this.
And it was good. Really good. It sputtered in fits and starts here and their along the way. But all in all, pretty damn good.
Here are a bunch of truly regular guys (though they are crooked) who try to pull off one of the biggest heists in history. And to know that it was basically true is quite amusing.
I would say that the characters are well thought out, but they’re based on the real people. So that’s a gimme. Let’s just say that the actors pulled it off well.
Blackmail, corruption and bondage always get some kind of strange, sick satisfaction. No, ya sick bastard! You have to see the film to know what I’m getting at. (Hee! Hee! Hee!)
The story gets a bit confusing at times, but that’s okay. You catch up with it. (Still, I couldn’t quite understand what the woman with the “peace-sign bracelet” had to do with anything really related to the main story. Maybe I missed something. But I don’t think so.)
There were a couple of anachronistically wrong things, however. (The film takes place in 1971 and on the shop window is a sticker stating that they take Visa and MasterCard credit cards. There was no Visa card. It was BankAmericard until 1976. As the MasterCard was Master Charge until 1976, too. Not that you really give a shit, but it caught my eye.)
Is Statham trying to reach out a bit in this film to get away from his usual double-fisted gun-barreled days? Could be. He does pretty well in this vehicle, but shows his best in the last five minutes of the film.
They had Mr. Pibb. YEA!
But can you believe it? They tried to jip me! I had to go back for extra butter on my corn?!
My Rating:
Matinee – I’d go for it if I was you.
Drive-in – This would be a good stale popcorn drive-in flick.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Movie Review - "Persepolis"
Movie Review -- Persepolis
Synopsis:
Persepolis presents a deeply personal coming-of-age tale about finding one’s place in the world. It’s and autobiographical portrait of a spunky girl who surmounts countless obstacles to grow into a wise young adult. Marjane is an innocent nine-year-old living in Iran, surrounded by a loving but incredibly protective mother and father. She finds comfort in the carefree spirit of her loving grandmother, as well as music by artists as diverse as ABBA and Iron Maiden. When Marjane’s uncle is killed in the Iran/Iraq war, her parents send her to school in Austria, where she can study in safety. The only trouble is that her Middle Eastern appearance frightens people, giving her a harsh lesson in racial prejudice.
I don’t get it these days. There are some dumb-ass fashions going on around here. I just do not get it.
I was at the mall yesterday getting a card for my wife’s birthday, right? And there were these people – well, kids really – wearing the stupidest shit. What’s up with the suede furry boots? Especially here in Seattle. Smart thing… Suede and Seattle. Not quite the brightest of fashion mixes.
I always though that the low rise jeans were the biggest fashion faux pas to come down the pike. I mean, to pull that off you really, really have to have the right body. You have to be one of the Seattle Sonics Dance Team to make it look good.
For a while all I saw were muffin tops. Muffin tops with the piss poor, over done lower back tattoo. (Thank gawd the low rise jeans are now slowly fading away.)
And speaking of tattoos… Do these girls ever think that when they hit fifty they’re going to have this tat still on their lower back? Looks great now, but, “Grandma, can I see that sagging tattoo, again?” How many times do I have to say, if you’re going to get a tattoo get one that has some meaning to you, that you know is going to stuck on you when you hit sixty, but you won’t care. (“Excuse me, I’d like that Calvin and Hobbs tat on my boob.”)
The one fashion that blows my mind that I see from time-to-time is the pajama/slipper combo. What in the fuck is this?!?
Have you decided to have a slumber party at the Gap tonight?
Let me guess… You saw a homeless person walking around the mall and thought to yourself, “Hey, that would be fun! Wearing your pajamas all the time!”
But then, I’m one to talk.
I’m wearing 501’s, long sleeves under a short sleeve, and raggedy-ass Vans. All I’m missing is the skateboard.
Yet, I digress…
Persepolis…
Persepolis was a city in ancient Persia, northeast of Shiraz. It was founded in the late 6th century b.c. by Darius I as the ceremonial capital of Persia under the Achaemenid dynasty.
I just put that in there in case you didn’t know what it was. (I didn’t.)
This film is up for an Oscar as the best animated feature. It sure as hell better be.
Look at it… The Oscars have been giving this award away since 2001. And all the winners, with the exception of Spirited Away, have been Disney-esque kiddie flicks.
2001 – Shrek; 2002 – Spirited Away; 2003 – Finding Nemo; 2004 – The Incredibles; 2005 – Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-rabbit; 2006 – Happy Feet.
2007 had better be Persepolis. It’ll be the first feature that has something beyond that ”happy-happy, joy-joy” story to it. I’m tired of animation being pigeon-holed like this. (Like how the Oscar goes to the film that deals with the Holocaust, or a cripple. If it’s nominated, chances are very high that it’s gonna win.)
One of the things I like best about it is that it not only goes through her life, but it gives some background as to how things got the way they did. The British situation; the Shah; the CIA; the Islamic fundamentalists… That it is not Disney is extremely refreshing.
Along with the story, the animation is fantastic. It’s real animation – not CGI. I’m tired of CGI. I’m tired of Pixar and Disney. I’m tired of dancing penguins. Even when it’s clay, I’m tired of it. Besides, clay isn't animation. It's claymation! It shouldn't count!
Give me drawing. Real drawing. And not Fantasia crap-ola. Give me a pencil, paper, and two hands. Shit! Make it a flip cartoon on the page of a book, I’d rather see that.
Fuck talking donkeys and little fish.
The animation Oscar has become something like when a Tom Hanks is nominated. It has become boring. (“Oh he’s nominated, again.”)
Will it win? Hell if I know. I think it has a good chance.
By the way, “ABBA is for wimps.”
Synopsis:
Persepolis presents a deeply personal coming-of-age tale about finding one’s place in the world. It’s and autobiographical portrait of a spunky girl who surmounts countless obstacles to grow into a wise young adult. Marjane is an innocent nine-year-old living in Iran, surrounded by a loving but incredibly protective mother and father. She finds comfort in the carefree spirit of her loving grandmother, as well as music by artists as diverse as ABBA and Iron Maiden. When Marjane’s uncle is killed in the Iran/Iraq war, her parents send her to school in Austria, where she can study in safety. The only trouble is that her Middle Eastern appearance frightens people, giving her a harsh lesson in racial prejudice.
I don’t get it these days. There are some dumb-ass fashions going on around here. I just do not get it.
I was at the mall yesterday getting a card for my wife’s birthday, right? And there were these people – well, kids really – wearing the stupidest shit. What’s up with the suede furry boots? Especially here in Seattle. Smart thing… Suede and Seattle. Not quite the brightest of fashion mixes.
I always though that the low rise jeans were the biggest fashion faux pas to come down the pike. I mean, to pull that off you really, really have to have the right body. You have to be one of the Seattle Sonics Dance Team to make it look good.
For a while all I saw were muffin tops. Muffin tops with the piss poor, over done lower back tattoo. (Thank gawd the low rise jeans are now slowly fading away.)
And speaking of tattoos… Do these girls ever think that when they hit fifty they’re going to have this tat still on their lower back? Looks great now, but, “Grandma, can I see that sagging tattoo, again?” How many times do I have to say, if you’re going to get a tattoo get one that has some meaning to you, that you know is going to stuck on you when you hit sixty, but you won’t care. (“Excuse me, I’d like that Calvin and Hobbs tat on my boob.”)
The one fashion that blows my mind that I see from time-to-time is the pajama/slipper combo. What in the fuck is this?!?
Have you decided to have a slumber party at the Gap tonight?
Let me guess… You saw a homeless person walking around the mall and thought to yourself, “Hey, that would be fun! Wearing your pajamas all the time!”
But then, I’m one to talk.
I’m wearing 501’s, long sleeves under a short sleeve, and raggedy-ass Vans. All I’m missing is the skateboard.
Yet, I digress…
Persepolis…
Persepolis was a city in ancient Persia, northeast of Shiraz. It was founded in the late 6th century b.c. by Darius I as the ceremonial capital of Persia under the Achaemenid dynasty.
I just put that in there in case you didn’t know what it was. (I didn’t.)
This film is up for an Oscar as the best animated feature. It sure as hell better be.
Look at it… The Oscars have been giving this award away since 2001. And all the winners, with the exception of Spirited Away, have been Disney-esque kiddie flicks.
2001 – Shrek; 2002 – Spirited Away; 2003 – Finding Nemo; 2004 – The Incredibles; 2005 – Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-rabbit; 2006 – Happy Feet.
2007 had better be Persepolis. It’ll be the first feature that has something beyond that ”happy-happy, joy-joy” story to it. I’m tired of animation being pigeon-holed like this. (Like how the Oscar goes to the film that deals with the Holocaust, or a cripple. If it’s nominated, chances are very high that it’s gonna win.)
One of the things I like best about it is that it not only goes through her life, but it gives some background as to how things got the way they did. The British situation; the Shah; the CIA; the Islamic fundamentalists… That it is not Disney is extremely refreshing.
Along with the story, the animation is fantastic. It’s real animation – not CGI. I’m tired of CGI. I’m tired of Pixar and Disney. I’m tired of dancing penguins. Even when it’s clay, I’m tired of it. Besides, clay isn't animation. It's claymation! It shouldn't count!
Give me drawing. Real drawing. And not Fantasia crap-ola. Give me a pencil, paper, and two hands. Shit! Make it a flip cartoon on the page of a book, I’d rather see that.
Fuck talking donkeys and little fish.
The animation Oscar has become something like when a Tom Hanks is nominated. It has become boring. (“Oh he’s nominated, again.”)
Will it win? Hell if I know. I think it has a good chance.
By the way, “ABBA is for wimps.”
Friday, February 08, 2008
Movie Review - "Strange Wilderness"
Movie Review - Strange Wilderness
Synopsis:
Animal enthusiast Peter Gaulke (Steve Zahn) and his sidekick Fred Wolf (Allen Covert) host an ailing wildlife TV show "Strange Wilderness," which is in a steep ratings decline. Desperate to save the show, Peter hatches a Hail Mary scheme to find the one animal that could truly turn the show around and change the nature-show landscape forever - Bigfoot. --© Paramount
I was totally wiped out last night. I went to bed around 8:30p. I never, ever do that. I usually fall asleep around midnight or 1am. At the very least I watch The Daily Show. But for some reason I was just damaged and crawled into bed. And boy, am I telling you, I had one of the weirdest dreams…
In short, it had to do with David Lee Roth wanting to beat the living shit out of me. (This is when Mr. Roth had hair and truly was “Diamond Dave.) Then it moved on to me sawing the wing off of a 737 to look inside to check the passengers’ baggage for something. For what, I don’t know. (This part of the dream disturbed me ‘cause I thought that I was going to get into trouble and have to pay for sawing off the wing. It pushed me to the point that I woke myself up to make sure that it was only a dream.) Then I moved on to nuzzling with Lucy Liu (WOO HOO!) as she started a video conference while secretly licking the fingers of my black leather glove.
Paging Dr. Freud. Dr. Freud to the front desk, please.
Yet, I digress…
Strange Wilderness
I really love Steve Zahn films: Happy Texas, That Thing You Do, Shattered Glass…
I mean, the man can do no wrong!
And the film is produced by Happy Madison Productions. So, fuck the critics! These assholes gave Billy Madison, Happy Gilmore and The Waterboy one or two star ratings! So fuck ‘em! Just FUCK ‘EM!
While I’m writing this review I’m also doing a crossword puzzle. I need a 4-letter word that starts with ‘L’ that means horrid, and rhymes with ‘tame.’
Exactly!
And that little joke I just made is better than any of the jokes in this whole film.
What the FUCK was I thinking?!? You can probably count the number of funny bits in this film on one hand. Well, I’ve got two of my fingers taped up because they’re broken, so I’ll count them as one finger, and it still doesn’t fill up my hand.
This has a lot of good people in it. Now, I’d like to know what in the fuck they were thinking when they got the script for this film. I feel the worst for Ernest Borgnine. He’s been in some clunkers before, but he’s also been in some classics: On the Waterfront, The Flight Of the Phoenix, The Poseidon Adventure, Marty (for which he won an Oscar for best actor).
Poor guy… He must be at home with his head in his hands, trembling at the thought that he had actually done this film. (But then, he may not care ‘cause it put money in the bank.)
Nothing, and I mean nothing could save this film. Not even if they cut it down to the 2 minutes of bouncing boobies and played that in a loop for its 86 minutes of running time could this film come close to be entertaining.
Okay, I’m being a bit mean. Or am I? Keep the good jokes in, minus the bouncing breastage, and you’ve got a fifteen minute film. (Give or take a few minutes.)
Not even my wonderful popcorn and sodee pop made it any more tollerable.
My Rating:
Matinee – RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!
Drive-in – KEEP DRIVING ON BY!
--------
By the way, I’ve been asked “Why matinees and drive in scales?”
Y'see, we FINALLY put our daughter into day care 2 days a week and on one of those days I make it my duty to see a movie. (One of my great passions.) And so I will pass along to you the good, the bad, and the ugly (which in itself is a damn fine film!).
These are the rules I have made:
These films are only seen as matinees or drive-ins. Why drive-ins? Because some films honestly are more entertaining and fun at the drive-in. You may not agree, but give it a try if there is a drive-in by you.
For instance, I saw the film xXx, starring Vin Diesel. As a matinee it would be amusing, but at the drive-in, sitting in your car, stale box of popcorn in hand, a drive-in burger or hot dog, nachos and a large coke… It can’t be beat! (Especially if the drive-in still has the metal box speakers that sit in the window of your car!)
Evening films are a bit more difficult to take on 'cause half of the time you're thinking about how you forked out $9.50 for a movie ticket! Not to mention the popcorn!
That’s why they are only rated on the matinee and drive-in scale.
I try to never read someone else's write up prior to going. (The Chicago Sun Times, among others, have their heads up their asses. Too analytical. They forget about just going to a movie to have a good time...)
Popcorn is ALWAYS included... Preferably buttered.
Dr. Pepper or Mr. Pibb must always be in hand. (If available.)
Synopsis:
Animal enthusiast Peter Gaulke (Steve Zahn) and his sidekick Fred Wolf (Allen Covert) host an ailing wildlife TV show "Strange Wilderness," which is in a steep ratings decline. Desperate to save the show, Peter hatches a Hail Mary scheme to find the one animal that could truly turn the show around and change the nature-show landscape forever - Bigfoot. --© Paramount
I was totally wiped out last night. I went to bed around 8:30p. I never, ever do that. I usually fall asleep around midnight or 1am. At the very least I watch The Daily Show. But for some reason I was just damaged and crawled into bed. And boy, am I telling you, I had one of the weirdest dreams…
In short, it had to do with David Lee Roth wanting to beat the living shit out of me. (This is when Mr. Roth had hair and truly was “Diamond Dave.) Then it moved on to me sawing the wing off of a 737 to look inside to check the passengers’ baggage for something. For what, I don’t know. (This part of the dream disturbed me ‘cause I thought that I was going to get into trouble and have to pay for sawing off the wing. It pushed me to the point that I woke myself up to make sure that it was only a dream.) Then I moved on to nuzzling with Lucy Liu (WOO HOO!) as she started a video conference while secretly licking the fingers of my black leather glove.
Paging Dr. Freud. Dr. Freud to the front desk, please.
Yet, I digress…
Strange Wilderness
I really love Steve Zahn films: Happy Texas, That Thing You Do, Shattered Glass…
I mean, the man can do no wrong!
And the film is produced by Happy Madison Productions. So, fuck the critics! These assholes gave Billy Madison, Happy Gilmore and The Waterboy one or two star ratings! So fuck ‘em! Just FUCK ‘EM!
While I’m writing this review I’m also doing a crossword puzzle. I need a 4-letter word that starts with ‘L’ that means horrid, and rhymes with ‘tame.’
Exactly!
And that little joke I just made is better than any of the jokes in this whole film.
What the FUCK was I thinking?!? You can probably count the number of funny bits in this film on one hand. Well, I’ve got two of my fingers taped up because they’re broken, so I’ll count them as one finger, and it still doesn’t fill up my hand.
This has a lot of good people in it. Now, I’d like to know what in the fuck they were thinking when they got the script for this film. I feel the worst for Ernest Borgnine. He’s been in some clunkers before, but he’s also been in some classics: On the Waterfront, The Flight Of the Phoenix, The Poseidon Adventure, Marty (for which he won an Oscar for best actor).
Poor guy… He must be at home with his head in his hands, trembling at the thought that he had actually done this film. (But then, he may not care ‘cause it put money in the bank.)
Nothing, and I mean nothing could save this film. Not even if they cut it down to the 2 minutes of bouncing boobies and played that in a loop for its 86 minutes of running time could this film come close to be entertaining.
Okay, I’m being a bit mean. Or am I? Keep the good jokes in, minus the bouncing breastage, and you’ve got a fifteen minute film. (Give or take a few minutes.)
Not even my wonderful popcorn and sodee pop made it any more tollerable.
My Rating:
Matinee – RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!
Drive-in – KEEP DRIVING ON BY!
--------
By the way, I’ve been asked “Why matinees and drive in scales?”
Y'see, we FINALLY put our daughter into day care 2 days a week and on one of those days I make it my duty to see a movie. (One of my great passions.) And so I will pass along to you the good, the bad, and the ugly (which in itself is a damn fine film!).
These are the rules I have made:
These films are only seen as matinees or drive-ins. Why drive-ins? Because some films honestly are more entertaining and fun at the drive-in. You may not agree, but give it a try if there is a drive-in by you.
For instance, I saw the film xXx, starring Vin Diesel. As a matinee it would be amusing, but at the drive-in, sitting in your car, stale box of popcorn in hand, a drive-in burger or hot dog, nachos and a large coke… It can’t be beat! (Especially if the drive-in still has the metal box speakers that sit in the window of your car!)
Evening films are a bit more difficult to take on 'cause half of the time you're thinking about how you forked out $9.50 for a movie ticket! Not to mention the popcorn!
That’s why they are only rated on the matinee and drive-in scale.
I try to never read someone else's write up prior to going. (The Chicago Sun Times, among others, have their heads up their asses. Too analytical. They forget about just going to a movie to have a good time...)
Popcorn is ALWAYS included... Preferably buttered.
Dr. Pepper or Mr. Pibb must always be in hand. (If available.)
Friday, February 01, 2008
Movie Review - "Teeth"
Movie Review – Teeth
Synopsis:
High school student Dawn works hard at suppressing her budding sexuality by being the local chastity group's most active participant. Her task is made even more difficult by her bad boy stepbrother Brad's increasingly provocative behavior at home. A stranger to her own body, innocent Dawn discovers she has a toothed vagina when she becomes the object of violence. As she struggles to comprehend her anatomical uniqueness, Dawn experiences both the pitfalls and the power of being a living example of the vagina dentata myth.
My ass is draggin’!
I’ve been suffering from a bit of insomnia. I can’t get to sleep until around 3 o’clock or so. The good thing about it is that CBC (the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation) has been showing the old Godzilla movies. So, at least I’ve kept entertained while I wait for Mr. Sandman to take over.
Yea…
Godzilla vs. Mothra…
Godzilla vs. King Kong…
Godzilla vs. Monster Zero…
Godzilla Raids Again…
Unfortunately, I forgot to set my DVR to pick up the original Godzilla. (DAMMIT!)
So anyway, I fall asleep at about 3a and I wake up whenever my daughter decides she wants to wake up and come knocking on the bedroom door – which is usually around 7:30a. So I schlep out of bed and do the papa thing all day. And wouldn’t you know it, when bedtime rolls around my eyes are wide open.
What in the fuck is it that kids like to wake up so goddamn early? When the rest of the world will sleep until 10a (with me it can be around noon to 1p), your kid is poking you in the head with a stick at 6a?
Another thing that has me a bit down is that my man, John Edwards, dropped out of the race. Now it’s between Hillary and Obama. John was the MAN! My MAN! He told it like it is. But, of course, ever since there actually was a serious chance for a black man or a woman to become president that’s the only thing the press paid attention to. Forget anybody else.
But now it’s Clinton v. Obama…
It’s a no-brainer. The “Big O in ’08.”
Clinton v. Obama? Or Godzilla v. Mechagodzilla?
For now I’m gonna put my money on Godzilla.
Yet I digress…
Teeth
Now, I’m not quite sure if this is supposed to be a horror film that is just hilarious by sheer accident, or if this whole thing is supposed to be tongue-in-cheek, but this is a strange and funny movie.
Dawn belongs to one of those “Promise Keepers” type organizations – the over pious no sex, no masturbation, don’t even look at it group of people who really need to kicked in the balls just to make them look at their naughty bits. But once she figures out that she’s got teeth in her hoo-ha, feeling guilty about not staying pure is about the last thing the needs to worry about.
At every turn the makers of the film like to point out that she lives by a nuclear power plant – in every shot of her home you can see the cooling towers of the plant looming in the background. (Hmm… I wonder how she got the teeth in her vajay-jay?)
The first attack of her bajingo comes from her Promise Keepers boyfriend. As they sneak off, with great guilt, to give in to their lustful desires (otherwise known as kissing) Dawn’s beau tries for a bit more – trying to get some of that treasure chest, and then move on to the treasure box. Well, as she is violently spurning his advances, her boyfriend yells out the best line I’ve heard in a movie for years:
“C’mon! I haven’t jerked off since Easter!”
Classic! And then the fun begins!
Three peni, four fingers, and one Prince Albert later…
The end of the film is somewhat predictable, considering the situations that Dawn has faced, but it is quite entertaining nonetheless.
There were two other guys also in the theater – but one of them might have been offended by the film. Maybe he was a Promise Keeper? Anyway, he left about twenty minutes in. But I can’t understand why.
The other guy and I were rolling on the floor laughing at some of the stuff in the film. And like I said, I don’t know if it was meant to be tongue firmly planted in cheek, or what, but it sure as fuck was funny.
And remember, their house was only a couple of miles from the nuclear power plant…
I had the small popcorn with extra butter, and a small Mr. Pibb, and all was good.
Rating –
Matinee: definitely
Drive-in: CLASSIC!
Synopsis:
High school student Dawn works hard at suppressing her budding sexuality by being the local chastity group's most active participant. Her task is made even more difficult by her bad boy stepbrother Brad's increasingly provocative behavior at home. A stranger to her own body, innocent Dawn discovers she has a toothed vagina when she becomes the object of violence. As she struggles to comprehend her anatomical uniqueness, Dawn experiences both the pitfalls and the power of being a living example of the vagina dentata myth.
My ass is draggin’!
I’ve been suffering from a bit of insomnia. I can’t get to sleep until around 3 o’clock or so. The good thing about it is that CBC (the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation) has been showing the old Godzilla movies. So, at least I’ve kept entertained while I wait for Mr. Sandman to take over.
Yea…
Godzilla vs. Mothra…
Godzilla vs. King Kong…
Godzilla vs. Monster Zero…
Godzilla Raids Again…
Unfortunately, I forgot to set my DVR to pick up the original Godzilla. (DAMMIT!)
So anyway, I fall asleep at about 3a and I wake up whenever my daughter decides she wants to wake up and come knocking on the bedroom door – which is usually around 7:30a. So I schlep out of bed and do the papa thing all day. And wouldn’t you know it, when bedtime rolls around my eyes are wide open.
What in the fuck is it that kids like to wake up so goddamn early? When the rest of the world will sleep until 10a (with me it can be around noon to 1p), your kid is poking you in the head with a stick at 6a?
Another thing that has me a bit down is that my man, John Edwards, dropped out of the race. Now it’s between Hillary and Obama. John was the MAN! My MAN! He told it like it is. But, of course, ever since there actually was a serious chance for a black man or a woman to become president that’s the only thing the press paid attention to. Forget anybody else.
But now it’s Clinton v. Obama…
It’s a no-brainer. The “Big O in ’08.”
Clinton v. Obama? Or Godzilla v. Mechagodzilla?
For now I’m gonna put my money on Godzilla.
Yet I digress…
Teeth
Now, I’m not quite sure if this is supposed to be a horror film that is just hilarious by sheer accident, or if this whole thing is supposed to be tongue-in-cheek, but this is a strange and funny movie.
Dawn belongs to one of those “Promise Keepers” type organizations – the over pious no sex, no masturbation, don’t even look at it group of people who really need to kicked in the balls just to make them look at their naughty bits. But once she figures out that she’s got teeth in her hoo-ha, feeling guilty about not staying pure is about the last thing the needs to worry about.
At every turn the makers of the film like to point out that she lives by a nuclear power plant – in every shot of her home you can see the cooling towers of the plant looming in the background. (Hmm… I wonder how she got the teeth in her vajay-jay?)
The first attack of her bajingo comes from her Promise Keepers boyfriend. As they sneak off, with great guilt, to give in to their lustful desires (otherwise known as kissing) Dawn’s beau tries for a bit more – trying to get some of that treasure chest, and then move on to the treasure box. Well, as she is violently spurning his advances, her boyfriend yells out the best line I’ve heard in a movie for years:
“C’mon! I haven’t jerked off since Easter!”
Classic! And then the fun begins!
Three peni, four fingers, and one Prince Albert later…
The end of the film is somewhat predictable, considering the situations that Dawn has faced, but it is quite entertaining nonetheless.
There were two other guys also in the theater – but one of them might have been offended by the film. Maybe he was a Promise Keeper? Anyway, he left about twenty minutes in. But I can’t understand why.
The other guy and I were rolling on the floor laughing at some of the stuff in the film. And like I said, I don’t know if it was meant to be tongue firmly planted in cheek, or what, but it sure as fuck was funny.
And remember, their house was only a couple of miles from the nuclear power plant…
I had the small popcorn with extra butter, and a small Mr. Pibb, and all was good.
Rating –
Matinee: definitely
Drive-in: CLASSIC!
Friday, January 25, 2008
Movie Review - "Cloverfield"
Cloverfield
“Synopsis:
On the eve of his departure for Japan, Rob (Michael Stahl-David) sees his going-away party as an opportunity to confess unresolved feelings and tie up loose ends. His agenda takes an unexpected turn when a jolt shakes the revelers. The crowd quiets down to watch news reports of an earthquake, then rushes to the roof to assess the damage. A fireball explodes on the distant horizon. A power failure follows. Confusion gives way to panic as the partygoers stumble through the blackout and into the streets. Amid the human screams and one inhuman roar, Rob and his friends must traverse a landscape that has changed, overtaken by something otherworldly, terrifying, monstrous… --© Paramount Pictures”
I’ve had this weird thing on the first knuckle of my right index finger.
It’s this strange lump that kind of protrudes kind of up and outward (well, inward since it goes toward the other finger. It’s a bitch of a thing. I’ve had to go check it out twice.
The first time they took a bunch of x-rays of my hand in every angle possible, plus blood tests to make sure that it wasn’t some kind of arthritis. But it’s not. So now it’s been a couple more weeks to see if it would go bye-bye, and it hasn’t.
I thought that maybe it’s a cyst of some kind, but then I knew that it wasn’t since you could feel the sack of fluid were it so.
Now were figuring (which we thought it might be in the first place) a bad case of tendonitis. Y’know – being a drummer is a real bitch, and slamming a knuckle on the rim of a drum will do wonders to your hands.
But I think I’ve become so used to it that a rarely notice it anymore.
I’ve tried to splint it before but in the physiology book that my doctor showed me (he’s a great doctor to take the time to show you on a personal basis what it most likely is), I had it splinted the wrong way.
Instead of splinting it so that it was completely immobile, it should be splinted to that it was mobile but not able to completely straighten…
It’s in a ”buddy splint”. Y’know, tape one finger to another. It makes for a bitch for typing.
Well aside from that, as I write this I’m cleaning my house – and if I find one more kitty gack somewhere I’m gonna drop kick them to Cincinnati.
Yet, I digress…
Cloverfield, huh?
I can describe it best as Godzilla meets Alien meets the Blair Witch Project.
Alien:
A giant creature attacks Manhattan and does what appears to be birthing little alien creatures that run around trying to devour human flesh. Oh, and if you are attacked bad enough you blow up.
Godzilla:
This part really shines through when we keep shooting and bombing this thing and nothing happens. Nothing. Except for maybe pissing it off more.
Blair Witch Project:
The whole thing is filmed by what is to supposedly be a hand held digital camera. It’s constantly in movement, shaking, spinning, etc.
Poor Rob. Talk about a fucked up going away party.
The film gets a bit cheesy at times with the unresolved feelings and tying up of loose ends. (You know, the world is falling apart but he’s got to find her come what may dammmit!)
My biggest question as I watched this was, why do these creatures always attack in Manhattan? Why not in Nantucket? Hasn’t Manhattan been creatured out enough? I mean look back to 1933 – “’Twas beauty killed the beast!” And from then of there was no turning back. Poor bastards…
WARNING! Do NOT see this movie either on a full stomach or with a lot of popcorn in your belly. Not because of the gore (there really isn’t that much) but because of the constant camera movement it can really get you seasick!
I had to turn away and stare at the exit sign for a few minutes at a time to make sure that I didn’t ralph in my empty popcorn bag.
On my way out I caught a strange smell. I looked down and noticed that someone had tried to get out in time before busting a gut. No such luck…
Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
It’s a decent film. Not fantastic, but decent.
Hey, my popcorn was good and buttery. And they had my Mr. Pibb!
Life was good. And thank god I could keep it down.
My rating -
Matinee: Sure. If you’ve got the time, why not?
Drive-in: This is a kick ass drive-in flick!
“Synopsis:
On the eve of his departure for Japan, Rob (Michael Stahl-David) sees his going-away party as an opportunity to confess unresolved feelings and tie up loose ends. His agenda takes an unexpected turn when a jolt shakes the revelers. The crowd quiets down to watch news reports of an earthquake, then rushes to the roof to assess the damage. A fireball explodes on the distant horizon. A power failure follows. Confusion gives way to panic as the partygoers stumble through the blackout and into the streets. Amid the human screams and one inhuman roar, Rob and his friends must traverse a landscape that has changed, overtaken by something otherworldly, terrifying, monstrous… --© Paramount Pictures”
I’ve had this weird thing on the first knuckle of my right index finger.
It’s this strange lump that kind of protrudes kind of up and outward (well, inward since it goes toward the other finger. It’s a bitch of a thing. I’ve had to go check it out twice.
The first time they took a bunch of x-rays of my hand in every angle possible, plus blood tests to make sure that it wasn’t some kind of arthritis. But it’s not. So now it’s been a couple more weeks to see if it would go bye-bye, and it hasn’t.
I thought that maybe it’s a cyst of some kind, but then I knew that it wasn’t since you could feel the sack of fluid were it so.
Now were figuring (which we thought it might be in the first place) a bad case of tendonitis. Y’know – being a drummer is a real bitch, and slamming a knuckle on the rim of a drum will do wonders to your hands.
But I think I’ve become so used to it that a rarely notice it anymore.
I’ve tried to splint it before but in the physiology book that my doctor showed me (he’s a great doctor to take the time to show you on a personal basis what it most likely is), I had it splinted the wrong way.
Instead of splinting it so that it was completely immobile, it should be splinted to that it was mobile but not able to completely straighten…
It’s in a ”buddy splint”. Y’know, tape one finger to another. It makes for a bitch for typing.
Well aside from that, as I write this I’m cleaning my house – and if I find one more kitty gack somewhere I’m gonna drop kick them to Cincinnati.
Yet, I digress…
Cloverfield, huh?
I can describe it best as Godzilla meets Alien meets the Blair Witch Project.
Alien:
A giant creature attacks Manhattan and does what appears to be birthing little alien creatures that run around trying to devour human flesh. Oh, and if you are attacked bad enough you blow up.
Godzilla:
This part really shines through when we keep shooting and bombing this thing and nothing happens. Nothing. Except for maybe pissing it off more.
Blair Witch Project:
The whole thing is filmed by what is to supposedly be a hand held digital camera. It’s constantly in movement, shaking, spinning, etc.
Poor Rob. Talk about a fucked up going away party.
The film gets a bit cheesy at times with the unresolved feelings and tying up of loose ends. (You know, the world is falling apart but he’s got to find her come what may dammmit!)
My biggest question as I watched this was, why do these creatures always attack in Manhattan? Why not in Nantucket? Hasn’t Manhattan been creatured out enough? I mean look back to 1933 – “’Twas beauty killed the beast!” And from then of there was no turning back. Poor bastards…
WARNING! Do NOT see this movie either on a full stomach or with a lot of popcorn in your belly. Not because of the gore (there really isn’t that much) but because of the constant camera movement it can really get you seasick!
I had to turn away and stare at the exit sign for a few minutes at a time to make sure that I didn’t ralph in my empty popcorn bag.
On my way out I caught a strange smell. I looked down and noticed that someone had tried to get out in time before busting a gut. No such luck…
Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
It’s a decent film. Not fantastic, but decent.
Hey, my popcorn was good and buttery. And they had my Mr. Pibb!
Life was good. And thank god I could keep it down.
My rating -
Matinee: Sure. If you’ve got the time, why not?
Drive-in: This is a kick ass drive-in flick!
Friday, January 18, 2008
Movie Review - "The Savages"
The Savages
The link to The Savages trailer. (My apologies, there is no YouTube link.)
Synopsis
Wendy Savage (Laura Linney), a struggling playwright, has little to do with her brother, Jon (Philip Seymour Hoffman), a college professor and author. However, the siblings must find a way to work together when their aged father, Lenny (Philip Bosco), slides into senility and must be placed in a nursing home.
Sorry I didn't get to writing a review last week, but I got sidetracked by taking my friend, to go see There Will Be Blood. Yea, he liked it as much as I did. (Daniel Day Lewis won the Critics Choice award for his roll. And every actor who has received that award has won the Oscar for best actor.)
Before the movie we went off to have some Thai food at a place close to the theater. I had the phad thai lunch. There was a problem with it, though. They didn't ask how spicy I wanted it. So I had to tell the waitress (who was hot in her own way, I must say) that I wanted it spicy. Well, they don't make it that way. They just put extra chili spices on the side to decide for myself.
Most places ask if you want it one to four star spicy, y'know? Hell, I like it smokin' hot. Make you sweat hot. As hot as the waitress was hot. So, I was a bit disappointed about that. It was good – but it meant a little bit extra work for me.
So we went to see There Will Be Blood, and we totally lost track of time. I mean, after all, it is a long film. My friend checked the time… Boom! He was supposed to have been home some half-hour prior to let his kids in the house! He called home as fast as he could and, thank god, his wife had made it home before hand.
But now he's busted. We can't go out and play for a bit. But that's okay. I must admit to being a bad influence on him. He should have been working; making money for his family. Instead I talked him into going to see a movie. (I'll just have to go and play at his house. But I'm afraid if I do his wife will beat me up.)
Yet, I digress.
I dunno. There isn't much to say about this film. It's not boring. It's just blah. It's kind of like a slice of life film where if you missed it when it came to town, you sure as fuck weren't missing much.
There are a few chuckles here and there. But they are few and far between. And it doesn't really matter.
The director/screenwriter Tamara Jenkins' first film, Slums of Beverly Hills was a fucking laugh riot. In this film she slides into pathos. A daughter who tries to overcompensate, a son who really slides on the surface of the relationship with his dad… The only thing they can both agree on is that their father wasn't really there for them.
Just take a not-that-good Woody Allen film, subtract the Jewish guilt jokes he slides into them, and bang, you've got this film. Basically, you see most of the better bits in the trailer.
And then the film has those moments to underscore the situation…
When it's raining, it's sad.
When it's sunny, it's happy.
When it's gray, it's a subdued depression.
How pathetic.
The film starts out in bright, sunny Arizona. (If you ever want to see a place that breaks that mold that is where you go. They should have just kept the film there.)
After seeing this, I broke the rules and read a couple of the reviews. The critics all loved it. And the people seeing it were all middle aged. And a lot of them teared up in the end. That's what it was. A middle-aged folks film. I should have known.
Rating:
Matinee: Don't stop. Just pass it by.
Drive-in: What in the fuck could you be thinking?
---
And now for something that is entertaining...
The link to The Savages trailer. (My apologies, there is no YouTube link.)
Synopsis
Wendy Savage (Laura Linney), a struggling playwright, has little to do with her brother, Jon (Philip Seymour Hoffman), a college professor and author. However, the siblings must find a way to work together when their aged father, Lenny (Philip Bosco), slides into senility and must be placed in a nursing home.
Sorry I didn't get to writing a review last week, but I got sidetracked by taking my friend, to go see There Will Be Blood. Yea, he liked it as much as I did. (Daniel Day Lewis won the Critics Choice award for his roll. And every actor who has received that award has won the Oscar for best actor.)
Before the movie we went off to have some Thai food at a place close to the theater. I had the phad thai lunch. There was a problem with it, though. They didn't ask how spicy I wanted it. So I had to tell the waitress (who was hot in her own way, I must say) that I wanted it spicy. Well, they don't make it that way. They just put extra chili spices on the side to decide for myself.
Most places ask if you want it one to four star spicy, y'know? Hell, I like it smokin' hot. Make you sweat hot. As hot as the waitress was hot. So, I was a bit disappointed about that. It was good – but it meant a little bit extra work for me.
So we went to see There Will Be Blood, and we totally lost track of time. I mean, after all, it is a long film. My friend checked the time… Boom! He was supposed to have been home some half-hour prior to let his kids in the house! He called home as fast as he could and, thank god, his wife had made it home before hand.
But now he's busted. We can't go out and play for a bit. But that's okay. I must admit to being a bad influence on him. He should have been working; making money for his family. Instead I talked him into going to see a movie. (I'll just have to go and play at his house. But I'm afraid if I do his wife will beat me up.)
Yet, I digress.
I dunno. There isn't much to say about this film. It's not boring. It's just blah. It's kind of like a slice of life film where if you missed it when it came to town, you sure as fuck weren't missing much.
There are a few chuckles here and there. But they are few and far between. And it doesn't really matter.
The director/screenwriter Tamara Jenkins' first film, Slums of Beverly Hills was a fucking laugh riot. In this film she slides into pathos. A daughter who tries to overcompensate, a son who really slides on the surface of the relationship with his dad… The only thing they can both agree on is that their father wasn't really there for them.
Just take a not-that-good Woody Allen film, subtract the Jewish guilt jokes he slides into them, and bang, you've got this film. Basically, you see most of the better bits in the trailer.
And then the film has those moments to underscore the situation…
When it's raining, it's sad.
When it's sunny, it's happy.
When it's gray, it's a subdued depression.
How pathetic.
The film starts out in bright, sunny Arizona. (If you ever want to see a place that breaks that mold that is where you go. They should have just kept the film there.)
After seeing this, I broke the rules and read a couple of the reviews. The critics all loved it. And the people seeing it were all middle aged. And a lot of them teared up in the end. That's what it was. A middle-aged folks film. I should have known.
Rating:
Matinee: Don't stop. Just pass it by.
Drive-in: What in the fuck could you be thinking?
---
And now for something that is entertaining...
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Was It the Paint Chips?
Just to give you the feel of what you're about to read...
------------------------------------
Just when I thought this guy couldn't be any stupider... This guy is really astounding. Bush was giving a talk in Lancaster, and by god, Dan Quayle looks like a fucking genius!
Uh... Wow... I wonder if lead paint chips really do taste that good. (Licked any good Thomas the Tank Trains lately?)
But it only gets better.
I have no idea as to why they keep writing "(sic)" to all these things that he says. I trust he either believes what he says, or the strings aren't being pulled tight enough for him not to screw it all up. (Or both.)
See, they used "(sic)" again. They should just let him talk and let the idiocy speak for itself.
I'm also at a loss on a point he brings up. He was a C student, as he readily admits. And he uses the advice of the Ph.D.s around him to make a decision. Now, in college, most of the books you use are written by Ph.D.s. So these people may be throwing out A+ advice, and getting a C grade decision? (That's assuming that thier advice is A+ grade. The lower the grade of advice, the lower grade of the decision. AHH!)
America, welcome to the past six years.
Indeed.
------------------------------------
Just when I thought this guy couldn't be any stupider... This guy is really astounding. Bush was giving a talk in Lancaster, and by god, Dan Quayle looks like a fucking genius!
Bush gave an intriguing description about what happens when businesses expand, as was the case here at a company run by a woman.
"You know, when you give a man more money in his pocket - in this case, a woman - more money in her pocket to expand a business, they build new buildings. And when somebody builds a new building, somebody has got to come and build the building.
Uh... Wow... I wonder if lead paint chips really do taste that good. (Licked any good Thomas the Tank Trains lately?)
But it only gets better.
"And when the building expanded, it prevented (sic) additional opportunities for people to work. Tax cuts matter. I'm going to spend some time talking about it," the president said.
I have no idea as to why they keep writing "(sic)" to all these things that he says. I trust he either believes what he says, or the strings aren't being pulled tight enough for him not to screw it all up. (Or both.)
"My job is a decision-making job. And as a result, I make a lot of decisions," the president said.
He elaborated on that point later.
"I delegate to good people. I always tell Condi Rice, `I want to remind you, Madam Secretary, who has the Ph.D. and who was the C student. And I want to remind you who the adviser is and who the president is.'
"I got a lot of Ph.D.-types and smart people around me who come into the Oval Office and say, `Mr. President, here's what's on my mind.' And I listen carefully to their advice. But having gathered the device (sic), I decide, you know, I say, `This is what we're going to do.' And it's `Yes, sir, Mr. President.' And then we get after it, implement policy."
See, they used "(sic)" again. They should just let him talk and let the idiocy speak for itself.
I'm also at a loss on a point he brings up. He was a C student, as he readily admits. And he uses the advice of the Ph.D.s around him to make a decision. Now, in college, most of the books you use are written by Ph.D.s. So these people may be throwing out A+ advice, and getting a C grade decision? (That's assuming that thier advice is A+ grade. The lower the grade of advice, the lower grade of the decision. AHH!)
"I'll be glad to answer some questions from you if you got any," he said. "If not, I can keep on blowing hot air until the time runs out."
America, welcome to the past six years.
"You're paying me too much money to be sitting here talking."
Indeed.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
God Bless The Washington Post...?
Let's get ourselves revved up first...
------
Dubya came out with his little report card on himself today. Gee, grading yourself can sometimes be really hard. But was he really honest with himself? Uh…
The MSM, who seemed to be growing a pair (though they hadn’t dropped quite yet) as things keep going poorly for Dub, decided to be all over the place on his own little report. It all depends on where you look – MSM wise, that is.
"The Paper of Record", basically did a synopsis of his press conference remarks. As usual it’s the SOS:
And so the B.S. continued:
But they decided to throw some chum in the water to quell some appetite of the sharks:
And thus the NY Times followed up by beginning to buy the line that the surge starts, wait for it…… NOW!
No critical analysis. No checking out of George's "facts." It's a Sanjay Gupta without any Michael Moore.
ABC News.com decided to get a little more critical by at least letting the Democrats have a bit to say:
But along comes the Washington Post to provide some balance:
And of Iran?
Well, I’ll be hog tied! But who do you think is going to cover the Washington Post version tonight?
(Olbermann doesn’t count…)
------
Dubya came out with his little report card on himself today. Gee, grading yourself can sometimes be really hard. But was he really honest with himself? Uh…
The MSM, who seemed to be growing a pair (though they hadn’t dropped quite yet) as things keep going poorly for Dub, decided to be all over the place on his own little report. It all depends on where you look – MSM wise, that is.
"The Paper of Record", basically did a synopsis of his press conference remarks. As usual it’s the SOS:
“The surge of additional U.S. forces into these areas allows us to better combat AQI (Al Qaeda in Iraq) and other terrorists,” the report said. “We should expect, however, that AQI will attempt to increase its tempo of attacks as September approaches, in an effort to influence U.S. domestic opinion about sustained U.S. engagement in Iraq.”
On the political front, the report said that significant progress had been made on both substantive issues and technical details in the constitutional review process, and it gave a mixed assessment on several aspects of the elections commission.
And so the B.S. continued:
While the White House report noted progress in the military realm, with an overall decrease in the numbers of Iraqi civilians killed in sectarian violence and in casualties from car and truck bomb blasts…
But they decided to throw some chum in the water to quell some appetite of the sharks:
…some of the benchmarks have not been met in that section, such as improvements in the ability and political neutrality of the Iraqi security forces and the Iraqi government.
And thus the NY Times followed up by beginning to buy the line that the surge starts, wait for it…… NOW!
“Tough fighting should be expected through the summer as Coalition and Iraqi Forces seek to seize the initiative from early gains and shape conditions for longer-term stabilization,” the report said. “These combined operations, named Operation Phantom Thunder, were launched on June 15, 2007, after the total complement of surge forces arrived in Iraq. The full surge in this respect has only just begun.”
No critical analysis. No checking out of George's "facts." It's a Sanjay Gupta without any Michael Moore.
ABC News.com decided to get a little more critical by at least letting the Democrats have a bit to say:
Meanwhile Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid called the Iraq report "discouraging" and further confirmation that the "war in Iraq is headed in a dangerous direction." He added that the United States needs to change "course now, not in September."
But along comes the Washington Post to provide some balance:
The administration's assessment comes the day after U.S. intelligence experts offered an overwhelmingly negative view of military and political conditions in Iraq, saying that Iraqi forces will remain incapable of taking charge of security for years to come and that deepening sectarian political divides remain the largest impediment to progress…
Meanwhile, in testimony before the House Armed Services Committee, senior intelligence officials said there has been no meaningful positive change in Iraq since January, when a starkly pessimistic National Intelligence Estimate warned that even if security improved, violent sectarian divisions threatened to destroy the government.
Thomas Fingar, the deputy director of national intelligence and chief of the National Intelligence Council, which wrote the January estimate, said that assessment did not change. While the government of Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki has made "halting efforts to bridge the divisions and restore commitment to a unified country . . . it has made limited progress on key legislation," such as the oil revenue law and a range of power-sharing measures.
"Communal violence and scant common ground between Shias, Sunnis and Kurds continues to polarize politics," Fingar said yesterday. Even the majority-Shiite bloc that Maliki heads, he said, "does not present a unified front" and has continued to deteriorate in recent months. Meanwhile, the provision of essential services seen as crucial in building support for the government, including electricity and oil production, remains below prewar levels, he said. Some have declined over the past six months…
Retired Maj. Gen. John R. Landry, also a member of the intelligence council, said there have been some improvements in the Iraqi army, although much less so with the Iraqi police, who are charged with holding urban areas. But Iraqi security forces remain "ridden with a certain degree of sectarian infiltration" and lack the logistics and support capabilities that would allow them to take over from U.S. forces in most of the country, he said.
And of Iran?
Asked about the threat of an Iranian takeover of Iraq, which Bush has frequently cited as a possible outcome if U.S forces withdraw, Fingar said "it will be difficult for Iran to hold Iraq in its sway." While many Iraqi Shiites have close ties with Iran, he said, they have very different views about governance and religion.
Well, I’ll be hog tied! But who do you think is going to cover the Washington Post version tonight?
(Olbermann doesn’t count…)
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
PUT DOWN THOSE FLAGS
HAPPY FOURTH!
--------
Put Down Those Flags - by Howard Zinn
On this July 4, we would do well to renounce nationalism and all its symbols: its flags, its pledges of allegiance, its anthems, its insistence in song that God must single out America to be blessed.
Is not nationalism -- that devotion to a flag, an anthem, a boundary so fierce it engenders mass murder -- one of the great evils of our time, along with racism, along with religious hatred?
These ways of thinking -- cultivated, nurtured, indoctrinated from childhood on -- have been useful to those in power, and deadly for those out of power.
National spirit can be benign in a country that is small and lacking both in military power and a hunger for expansion (Switzerland, Norway, Costa Rica and many more). But in a nation like ours -- huge, possessing thousands of weapons of mass destruction -- what might have been harmless pride becomes an arrogant nationalism dangerous to others and to ourselves.
Our citizenry has been brought up to see our nation as different from others, an exception in the world, uniquely moral, expanding into other lands in order to bring civilization, liberty, democracy.
That self-deception started early.
When the first English settlers moved into Indian land in Massachusetts Bay and were resisted, the violence escalated into war with the Pequot Indians. The killing of Indians was seen as approved by God, the taking of land as commanded by the Bible. The Puritans cited one of the Psalms, which says: "Ask of me, and I shall give thee, the heathen for thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the Earth for thy possession."
When the English set fire to a Pequot village and massacred men, women and children, the Puritan theologian Cotton Mather said: "It was supposed that no less than 600 Pequot souls were brought down to hell that day."
On the eve of the Mexican War, an American journalist declared it our "Manifest Destiny to overspread the continent allotted by Providence." After the invasion of Mexico began, The New York Herald announced: "We believe it is a part of our destiny to civilize that beautiful country."
It was always supposedly for benign purposes that our country went to
war.
We invaded Cuba in 1898 to liberate the Cubans, and went to war in the Philippines shortly after, as President McKinley put it, "to civilize and Christianize" the Filipino people.
As our armies were committing massacres in the Philippines (at least 600,000 Filipinos died in a few years of conflict), Elihu Root, our secretary of war, was saying: "The American soldier is different from all other soldiers of all other countries since the war began. He is the advance guard of liberty and justice, of law and order, and of peace and happiness."
We see in Iraq that our soldiers are not different. They have, perhaps against their better nature, killed thousands of Iraq civilians. And some soldiers have shown themselves capable of brutality, of torture.
Yet they are victims, too, of our government's lies.
How many times have we heard President Bush tell the troops that if they die, if they return without arms or legs, or blinded, it is for "liberty," for "democracy"?
One of the effects of nationalist thinking is a loss of a sense of proportion. The killing of 2,300 people at Pearl Harbor becomes the justification for killing 240,000 in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The killing of 3,000 people on Sept. 11 becomes the justification for killing tens of thousands of people in Afghanistan and Iraq.
And nationalism is given a special virulence when it is said to be blessed by Providence. Today we have a president, invading two countries in four years, who announced on the campaign trail in 2004 that God speaks through him.
We need to refute the idea that our nation is different from, morally superior to, the other imperial powers of world history.
We need to assert our allegiance to the human race, and not to any one nation.
Howard Zinn, a World War II bombardier, is the author of the best-selling
"A People's History of the United States"
--------
Put Down Those Flags - by Howard Zinn
On this July 4, we would do well to renounce nationalism and all its symbols: its flags, its pledges of allegiance, its anthems, its insistence in song that God must single out America to be blessed.
Is not nationalism -- that devotion to a flag, an anthem, a boundary so fierce it engenders mass murder -- one of the great evils of our time, along with racism, along with religious hatred?
These ways of thinking -- cultivated, nurtured, indoctrinated from childhood on -- have been useful to those in power, and deadly for those out of power.
National spirit can be benign in a country that is small and lacking both in military power and a hunger for expansion (Switzerland, Norway, Costa Rica and many more). But in a nation like ours -- huge, possessing thousands of weapons of mass destruction -- what might have been harmless pride becomes an arrogant nationalism dangerous to others and to ourselves.
Our citizenry has been brought up to see our nation as different from others, an exception in the world, uniquely moral, expanding into other lands in order to bring civilization, liberty, democracy.
That self-deception started early.
When the first English settlers moved into Indian land in Massachusetts Bay and were resisted, the violence escalated into war with the Pequot Indians. The killing of Indians was seen as approved by God, the taking of land as commanded by the Bible. The Puritans cited one of the Psalms, which says: "Ask of me, and I shall give thee, the heathen for thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the Earth for thy possession."
When the English set fire to a Pequot village and massacred men, women and children, the Puritan theologian Cotton Mather said: "It was supposed that no less than 600 Pequot souls were brought down to hell that day."
On the eve of the Mexican War, an American journalist declared it our "Manifest Destiny to overspread the continent allotted by Providence." After the invasion of Mexico began, The New York Herald announced: "We believe it is a part of our destiny to civilize that beautiful country."
It was always supposedly for benign purposes that our country went to
war.
We invaded Cuba in 1898 to liberate the Cubans, and went to war in the Philippines shortly after, as President McKinley put it, "to civilize and Christianize" the Filipino people.
As our armies were committing massacres in the Philippines (at least 600,000 Filipinos died in a few years of conflict), Elihu Root, our secretary of war, was saying: "The American soldier is different from all other soldiers of all other countries since the war began. He is the advance guard of liberty and justice, of law and order, and of peace and happiness."
We see in Iraq that our soldiers are not different. They have, perhaps against their better nature, killed thousands of Iraq civilians. And some soldiers have shown themselves capable of brutality, of torture.
Yet they are victims, too, of our government's lies.
How many times have we heard President Bush tell the troops that if they die, if they return without arms or legs, or blinded, it is for "liberty," for "democracy"?
One of the effects of nationalist thinking is a loss of a sense of proportion. The killing of 2,300 people at Pearl Harbor becomes the justification for killing 240,000 in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The killing of 3,000 people on Sept. 11 becomes the justification for killing tens of thousands of people in Afghanistan and Iraq.
And nationalism is given a special virulence when it is said to be blessed by Providence. Today we have a president, invading two countries in four years, who announced on the campaign trail in 2004 that God speaks through him.
We need to refute the idea that our nation is different from, morally superior to, the other imperial powers of world history.
We need to assert our allegiance to the human race, and not to any one nation.
Howard Zinn, a World War II bombardier, is the author of the best-selling
"A People's History of the United States"
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Jesus Can Suck It!
-----------------
Some time ago, as ususal, I arrived home around 10p on a Tuesday night after band practice. And as usual I crack open my laptop to check my e-mail and the news of the day. In the New York Times online there was a small below the fold story.
Mother Hangs 4 Daughters and Herself, Police Say
HUDSON OAKS, Tex., May 29 — A woman who was said to be struggling with depression apparently hanged her four young daughters in their North Texas mobile home early Tuesday morning before hanging herself, the authorities said.
Bodies were found in a mobile home park in Hudson Oaks, Tex.
The youngest child, an eight-month-old baby, survived and was listed in good condition at a Fort Worth hospital. She was found hanging from her neck by a sweater sleeve in a bedroom closet alongside her sisters, whose ages are thought to be 2, 3 and 5, and their mother, said Larry Fowler, the Parker County sheriff.
Then not so long ago I watched a Frontline story about an undertaker and his funeral home. It spoke to some of the families who those whose family members recently died, or were on their death beds. There was one particular story that got to me.
One family had a two year-old son who was soon to die. He basically had no real state of consciousness. Had to be fed through a tube. Could not speak... He was basically nonexistent. It was so hurtful to see. So it really hit me then, "God? Tell me where he is."
It wasn't so much the child that struck me - it was the pain that the parents went through.
I had an argument with a guy about this, among other things, and he brought up Job (the Bible story about a prosperous man whose patience and piety were tried by undeserved misfortunes, and who, in spite of his bitter lamentations, remained confident in the goodness and justice of God.) And then he said that God put us on the earth with "free will."
Okay, let's get this straight...
God is an all loving being, yet he puts people through undeserved misfortunes.
So this supposed God is into tough love and free will?
So His version of tough love is free will?
Mom is a bit wacky, but He allows the mother the ability of free will to hang the kids as a version of tough love? He allows children to be born into this world as a non-existent being because of tough love, but somehow the free will is hidden in ways we don't understand? He allows the parents to feel the pain of losing their slowly before their eyes. After all, it's God's will.
Fuck that shit...
So now I look around and see myself as my only savior, and to borrow the line from Kathy Griffin: "Jesus can suck it! This is my god now!"
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Jerry Falwell Is Dead
---------------
From CNN.com
Evangelist Jerry Falwell died Tuesday after he was found unresponsive in his office, an official at Liberty University told CNN....
Falwell has found himself at the center of several controversies, such as the one sparked by his comments two days after the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks in which he seemed to blame "abortionists," gays, lesbians, the ACLU and People for American Way for causing the attacks, saying they "helped this happen."
Mourn for the man's family and friends, but as the song goes, "A bastard in life is still a bastard in death."
Take My Journalist, Please...
SUMMER'S ALMOST HERE!
------------------
We finally won the war on terror in Iraq. We can now prove to the Iraqi people that violence no longer exists in Iraq.
Just as it was in the beginning of the war, and for the most part of this occupation of Iraq, any news that the world press has received has been greatly censored after coming to the US main stream media when it shows the reality of this war. Disregarding the fact that the MSM still greatly self-censors itself, it has been opening up thanks to the actions of Iraqi journalists.
At the beginning of the war, even by their own admission, the MSM has sat at the foot of the Bush administration and nodded when they said, “yes,” and shook their head when the administration said, “no.” But as the reality that this Machiavellian play has no end and that the President’s popularity has nose-dived, the MSM has finally decided that it can use a couple of its arthritic vertebrae.
The Bush administration, it seems, has found a way to get around the bad news and show us all, including the Iraqi people, that Iraq is much more peaceful – move the Iraqi government to act more like the Bush administration and force the media to show only the happier, lighter side of occupation.
We still don’t see much in terms of what the actual cost of war is upon the Iraqi people. For the most part, we hear, but we don’t see. And when we do see the impact through the images on TV, the more the administration cringes and schemes.
Ronald Reagan, in the midst of one of the worst economic downturns in decades, still had great approval ratings because he was able to control what the media showed of him by well planned photo ops. The news would report the reality with the words, but the pictures showed the old, gregarious grandpa of our country waving and smiling in front of the flag. When asked how he got away with this, a person in his administration stated that nobody listens to the words, but everybody looks at the pictures.
Nobody falls for Bush’s photo-ops with the troops anymore. But now Bush is hoping that nobody seeing any pictures of Iraq’s reality will reassure us that the surge is working and that the war is won.
I doubt that it will. But at least we know that they’re trying something new against the insurgents.
And now that we’ve won, I’m going to Baghdad Disney World!
------------------
We finally won the war on terror in Iraq. We can now prove to the Iraqi people that violence no longer exists in Iraq.
Iraqi police prevented news photographers and camera operators from filming the scene of a bombing Tuesday under a new policy limiting coverage of the devastating explosions that have become a hallmark of the violence in the country.
To enforce its order that a group of Iraqi journalists leave Tayaran Square, where the bombing occurred, police fired several shots in the air, reporters said.
Brig. Gen. Abdel Karim Khalaf, the operations director at the Interior Ministry, said this weekend that Iraq's government has decided to bar news photographers and cameramen from the scene of bombings.
The order was aimed at preventing journalists from inadvertently tampering with evidence needed for investigations, protecting the privacy and human rights of those wounded and keeping insurgents and militias from keeping track of their success rate, Khalaf said.
He denied that the new regulation was aimed at curtailing press freedoms, saying other countries have similar restrictions.
Just as it was in the beginning of the war, and for the most part of this occupation of Iraq, any news that the world press has received has been greatly censored after coming to the US main stream media when it shows the reality of this war. Disregarding the fact that the MSM still greatly self-censors itself, it has been opening up thanks to the actions of Iraqi journalists.
At the beginning of the war, even by their own admission, the MSM has sat at the foot of the Bush administration and nodded when they said, “yes,” and shook their head when the administration said, “no.” But as the reality that this Machiavellian play has no end and that the President’s popularity has nose-dived, the MSM has finally decided that it can use a couple of its arthritic vertebrae.
The Bush administration, it seems, has found a way to get around the bad news and show us all, including the Iraqi people, that Iraq is much more peaceful – move the Iraqi government to act more like the Bush administration and force the media to show only the happier, lighter side of occupation.
We still don’t see much in terms of what the actual cost of war is upon the Iraqi people. For the most part, we hear, but we don’t see. And when we do see the impact through the images on TV, the more the administration cringes and schemes.
Ronald Reagan, in the midst of one of the worst economic downturns in decades, still had great approval ratings because he was able to control what the media showed of him by well planned photo ops. The news would report the reality with the words, but the pictures showed the old, gregarious grandpa of our country waving and smiling in front of the flag. When asked how he got away with this, a person in his administration stated that nobody listens to the words, but everybody looks at the pictures.
Nobody falls for Bush’s photo-ops with the troops anymore. But now Bush is hoping that nobody seeing any pictures of Iraq’s reality will reassure us that the surge is working and that the war is won.
I doubt that it will. But at least we know that they’re trying something new against the insurgents.
And now that we’ve won, I’m going to Baghdad Disney World!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
