I was watching FX the other day and the movie Avatar came on. Now I had never seen Avatar because it looked like James Cameron took Fern Gully, cut it open, gutted it, and shoved some CGI where its soul used to be. I liked Fern Gully when I was a kid. No, fuck the haters, I fucking LOVED Fern Gully when I was a kid. Saw it probably 100 times loved it. So, just like with my other loved ones, I really didn’t want to watch it get decapitated and maimed on screen. Also, I’ve never forgiven Mr. Cameron for the cinematic abortion that was Titanic (yes yes, the movie about the Titanic was an irredeemable disaster, irony, haha, let’s move on).
I was pretty sure I was right about Avatar (on account of I’m right about everything) but it was a Saturday afternoon, there was nothing on, I was interminably bored, and figured making fun of it might be more fun than pulling out my own fingernails. Spoiler: Watching this movie to make fun of it was only marginally more fun than pulling out my fingernails.
James Cameron clearly has the “Lucas Complex,” which is where someone was super good at making movies at one point and so is now given all the money they want and surrounded by sycophantic yes men and told that every idea they have is good, even the shitty ones (George Romero famously has it). In music, this is referred to as the “Clapton Complex.” The studio should have fired Cameron and brought in Ridley Scott POST HASTE! Or Sam Raimi, then it would have been funny too.
Within the first 20 minutes I spotted roughly 47 scientific impossibilities. Heads up to aspiring film makers: putting Sigourney Weaver in a white coat does not change the laws of the physical world and make anyone believe the sciencey sounding explanations you give for you plot holes.
Listing everything wrong with this movie would take longer than the stupid thing, but here is a list of the top terrible points of this terrible movie (or basically all the ones I wanted to type out):
Terrible Thing One: When I saw the trailers I assumed the “avatars” were robots. No no, that would make too much sense. They are apparently actual biological creatures grown in a lab. Now these creatures have all the physical traits of the things there bred from (humans and weird blue cat people) and since they have the capacity to move and talk and their hearts beat and shit, that means they have brains and nervous systems and all that other good stuff. So how are they not sentient? This leads to one of three conclusions: the humans are possessing conscious, sentient beings and forcing them to act against their will (CREEEEEEPY); the avatars are brain dead, which leads to a host of problems with how they function when invaded by their human hijackers; or James Cameron is a massive dumbass. And what is going on with the avatar body when the host mind is in the host body and vice versa? Are they just starving and peeing themselves during the long intervals between visits? As my brother said, “Interfacing with your flying butt monkey for life? I’d like to see those lease terms.” Though I guess you’d have to or you’d be sentencing your avatar to a soiled, painful, disgusting death. I do like the part where the main character guy says, “Each human can only pair to one avatar and each avatar to one human because of bio something blah blah science stuff hehe.” It was like the film was saying, “HAHA WE HAVE NO IDEA WHAT WE ARE DOING HAHA!”
Terrible Thing Two: They called the not-so-subtle oil metaphor substance “unobtainium.” Professional writers came up with that. They got paid money and were not fired on the spot for that piece of pure inspirational genius. Fuck the world.
Terrible Thing Three: The “film makers” (they are film makers in that they made a film, just like any America’s Funniest Home Videos submitter) seemed to want to cram so much new age, pseudo spirituality and allegorical meaning into this huge pile of suck that everything comes off as hasty and with no real thought behind it, a true feat in a movie that’s longer than my dick. One of the people I live with got sucked in about halfway through the movie and pointed out, “I bet a lot of people watch this and go “THAT’S TERRIBLE” but when stuff like this happens in real life they don’t realize it’s the same thing. That might be because, instead of focusing on one instance of imperialism being terrible, this film decided to go through every bad thing that any culture has ever done to another culture or the environment since the history of everything.” Which is too true, too true. If James Cameron had wanted so badly to show the dangers of corporations, imperialism, and/or environmental irresponsibility, he could have made several movies dealing each with one instance of that actually happening instead of one movie that is an allegory so large, encompassing so many events, it loses all message and makes it impossible for the viewer to relate to any actual event they witness. I felt like there was a second narrative that went, “First we start at the dawn of man when we rolled over other species to grow our civilization and then America happened and also other countries that took land from indigenous people and oh did I mention the rain forest and also that corporations are bad…” and so on and on and on. But whatever, WIDE SWEEPING ALLEGORIES FTW!
Terrible Thing Four: Those gross flagella looking things coming out of their hair that they attach to other thing’s flagella. Ew. Does the entire global population of that planet need a prescription for Valtrex because that shit don’t look sanitary. Which brings me to…
Terrible Thing Five: So they’re supposed to like mate with some dragons I guess and you choose them and they choose you and once you are bonded you’re bonded for life…unless it’s inconvenient for the script. Main character guy gets his blue dragon thing and they are all “BEST BUDS FOR LYFE!!!!! (Sorry I tried to kill you that one time bro).” But then he needs to mate (?) with one of the big red dragon variety that only four blue cat people have been able to break in the history of this planet to get the blue cat people to come back because this time will be different baby, I’ve changed! I swear! so he’s like, “Yeah, I’ve only been doing this whole blue cat person thing for 3 months and my small blue dragon guy almost killed me, but evs, it’ll totes be no problem.” Then he mates (again ?) with the red thing in a scene that kinda says everything about the caliber of this movie. See, like I said before, his little blue dragon guy almost killed him, and he’s been training for three months to learn what these blue cat people learn over decades, so when he decides to do what all but four other blue cat people ever have failed to do, he just flies over it (with some bullshit line about “if he’s the biggest thing in the sky, why would he ever look up?”), jumps on its back, and then the camera goes to black and it’s the next scene. BRILLIANT! Can’t figure out how to get out of this inconceivably massive plot hole you’ve dug? Just cut to black and be like “AND THEN EVERYTHING WORKED OUT YAY!!!!!!” And what happened to his little blue dragon buddy? They were mated for life! Blue cat people possessed by imperialist soldiers are such cheating assholes. Don’t worry little buddy, you’ll find someone better. You need to drop that zero and get you a hero!
Terrible Thing Six: In the first attack scene, the blue cat people’s weapons were shrugged off like ants spitting at a Doberman, but next attack they are fucking up the invading forces with the same weapons they tried to use the first time…somehow. Oh and how dickish is it for the humans (and avatar-humans, don’t call them “blue cat fuckers,” that’s racist) to decide they would be the only ones that get guns while the full-blooded blue cat people only get bows and arrows, dragons, and strong language? Answer: intensely dickish.
Terrible Thing Seven: Humans can’t breathe on this planet. The planet has plants and mammals and reptiles and all sorts of shit we have here on earth, but an atmosphere that is completely toxic to humans? How could that possibly be? Oh right, because it makes it more convenient to kill the big boss at the end. You can’t arrow King Koopa like some punk ass goomba, you gotta throw him in the fire pit…er suffocate him with magical poison air.
Terrible Thing Eight: The whole planet is connected like the internet and so…resurrection? Hippie.Fucking.Nonesense. “We’re all connected mannnn! And like the answers all lie in nature and we should totally believe in any superstition that has some sort of white guilt associated with it.” This is the same bullshit that gets people to buy magnet bracelets to cure their cancer or believe that pot cures every fucking thing ever and not just the few specific things it actually helps just like any other medicine. What? You haven’t heard? Pot is not some magical elixir that will not make you live forever? Shocking Mr. Hippie I know, but you can still enjoy getting high, it’s ok. Actually, if you believe in glowing trees that turn people into blue cats that can breathe poison you should probably lay off the drugs. And that vortex nonsense? I wonder if it’s like other vortexes and I can at least get a t-shirt for pretending I buy that a geologist found a place that makes you look taller in pictures as long as you take a picture of someone else who is taller.
Terrible Thing Nine: Three fucking hour run time. I mean, what the ever-living fuck? With all the terribleness contained in this movie, what didn’t make it in?
“We’re running a little long, so let’s cut all the scenes that explain things and also the ones that make the characters
likable.” -- James Cameron on editing.
I feel really bad for the extra whose one scene got cut. “They kept 47,000 hours of blue butt monkeys riding dragons, but my line explaining why their arrows work now got cut?! Fuck you James Cameron!” Fuck him indeed. Don’t worry random extra, there will be other, hopefully better movies. Besides, with a cast of 588,000, this probably wasn’t your big break.
I’m sure I could go on, but 1,800 words are more than this disaster of a movie ever really deserved.
In conclusion, I am not speaking to Hollywood right now. How could it let this happen to us? Madagascar 3 and Brave better be unbelievably fucking excellent or I’m breaking up with you Hollywood. For good! I mean it this time! Get your fucking act together! Oh and also never let James Cameron near a film project or Michael Bay near a fond childhood memory. Cool? Kthanxbai.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Monday, February 6, 2012
Super Bowl as Disney Movie
I know I might be A LITTLE biased, but as I watched the Super Bowl, I kept thinking that Bilechick and Brady looked like the villains in a movie about hard work, good sportsmanship, and spirit, and Eli was the sweet country boy that refused to succumb to bullying douchebags. Bilechick just looked mean and angry every time the camera was on him, and Brady looked like the frat boy douche whose dad paid for him to get into college whereas Eli had to work really hard to qualify for a scholarship and so knows the value of things. The whole movie Brady harasses Eli and his friends, calling them "Bumpkins" and "Welfare kids" maybe there's even a scene involving chasing Eli in a pick-up truck while beer bottles fall out of the back of the truck. Then the big game comes and Eli's determination and sticking to his principles pays off and he wins the big game in a close and therefore thrilling victory proving that honesty and integrity mean more than money and good looks.
Also, Eli is a cutey patootey. You can quote me on that.
Anyway, I just finished a three hour drive back from visiting true Blue believers for the big game so I am tired and a little pissed and having to return to normal life. Therefore, I'm gonna keep this short and just say all that really needs to be said:
The New York Football Giants are number one. They all deserve mugs saying that. Or Super Bowl rings. I guess those work too.
Also, Eli is a cutey patootey. You can quote me on that.
Anyway, I just finished a three hour drive back from visiting true Blue believers for the big game so I am tired and a little pissed and having to return to normal life. Therefore, I'm gonna keep this short and just say all that really needs to be said:
The New York Football Giants are number one. They all deserve mugs saying that. Or Super Bowl rings. I guess those work too.
Friday, February 3, 2012
Of Groundhogs and Ass Kickings
Did everyone have a good Groundhog Day yesterday? Did everyone celebrate it by watching the Bill Murray classic Groundhog Day? That was my favorite movie for a few years when I was a kid. Though that was back when pretty much anything Bill Murray did was awesome. Before shit like The Royal Tenenbaums. A first date I went on back in the day wanted to see A Life Aquatic when it was first out, and within 15 minutes I stopped watching the movie and started watching my date laugh while thinking of elaborate escape plans and how this would be our last date. But anything pre-Rushmore that Mr. Murray was in is pure gold. He was also the best part of Zombieland, and the rest of that movie was pretty effin' good (I apparently say "effin'" now). My brother has the same birthday as Bill Murray. Badassery runs in the Toasty family. Here is a real conversation my brother and I had over text yesterday:
Toastmaster General (my brother): Have you watched Groundhog Day yet?
Me: No, it’s only like 1pm here [we live in different time zones].
TG: Toasty! You know the tradition! You wake up, watch Groundhog Day while eating donuts and juice, and then you can get back to sleepies.
Clearly Groundhog Day is serious business in my family.
Now on to other important news: the Super Bowl. Long time readers can probably guess where I stand. This Sunday feels like the retelling of the best story ever told. At least it better.
Now of course, if the New York Giants win I will be elated to the point of maybe actually hugging someone on purpose and not for the express purpose of getting laid. However, ideally I don’t just want the Giants to win. I want them to destroy the Patriots. I want it to be a legendary blow-out that will be spoken of in hushed, reverent tones until the end of time. I want the final score to be no less than 87 to no more than 0. By the fourth quarter I want our douchebag punter Steve Weatherford playing quarterback (because why the fuck not?) and the Patriots still can’t score a single fucking point. I want the loss to be so humiliating that the wives of every single player, coach, and staff member of the Patriot franchise simultaneously divorces them for the shame of their performance and the entire Patriot brand. I want “had anything to do with the 2012 New England Patriots” to be a new legally recognized reason for marital annulment.
TL;DR: Fuck the Patriots.
Though nobody wants the Patriots to loss more than my dad. When it was down to the Ravens or the Patriots, I admit I was leaning more towards wanting to play the Ravens, to help wash the bitter taste of the Super Bowl we do not speak of. But not my dad:
Me: So if we win the NFC Championship (psssh, if) then we’ll be playing the Ravens or the Patriots in the Super Bowl. Either way it’s a rematch.
Dad: Yeah, I want it to be the Patriots.
Me: Really? I mean, I’m always for beating the Patriots, but we kinda been there done that only four years ago. And the Ravens…well you know.
Dad: Yeah but no. I want to beat those scuzoids [this is seriously my dad’s version of swearing. I have never heard him say anything worse or even this bad about anyone in his whole life].
Me: Well, the Ravens could beat them and then they wouldn’t even make it to the Super Bowl.
Dad: Oh no, I want them to get to the Super Bowl so that they get their hopes up, then it’ll feel even worse when they lose. This maximizes the disappointment and hurt they will feel. Also, I want US to beat them. I want them to know who’s in charge.
Then he used the word “scuzoids” a few hundred more times before we hung up.
See, my dad grew up in New England so he has a long standing hatred of the New England Patriots and their fans. Just like how my brother and I grew up in the Washington, D.C. area and hate the Redskins almost as much as we love the Giants. Also the Redskins blow so hard the hookers on 9th should take notes.
I’m going to end with one last real life conversation relating to the upcoming game:
Roommate: You know Belichick was the defensive coordinator for the Giants under Bill Parcells?
Me: Yeah, then he decided to come out from under Parcells’ shadow and coach his own team only to discover he was nowhere near as talented and the only way he could win was by cheating.
Roommate: He has more Super Bowl rings than Parcells.
Me: From.Cheating.
Roommate: …fair enough.
[Side note: I just discovered that if you type “Belichick” into Google, the first auto-suggestion is “Belichick cheating”. Google knows what’s up].
Toastmaster General (my brother): Have you watched Groundhog Day yet?
Me: No, it’s only like 1pm here [we live in different time zones].
TG: Toasty! You know the tradition! You wake up, watch Groundhog Day while eating donuts and juice, and then you can get back to sleepies.
Clearly Groundhog Day is serious business in my family.
Now on to other important news: the Super Bowl. Long time readers can probably guess where I stand. This Sunday feels like the retelling of the best story ever told. At least it better.
Now of course, if the New York Giants win I will be elated to the point of maybe actually hugging someone on purpose and not for the express purpose of getting laid. However, ideally I don’t just want the Giants to win. I want them to destroy the Patriots. I want it to be a legendary blow-out that will be spoken of in hushed, reverent tones until the end of time. I want the final score to be no less than 87 to no more than 0. By the fourth quarter I want our douchebag punter Steve Weatherford playing quarterback (because why the fuck not?) and the Patriots still can’t score a single fucking point. I want the loss to be so humiliating that the wives of every single player, coach, and staff member of the Patriot franchise simultaneously divorces them for the shame of their performance and the entire Patriot brand. I want “had anything to do with the 2012 New England Patriots” to be a new legally recognized reason for marital annulment.
TL;DR: Fuck the Patriots.
Though nobody wants the Patriots to loss more than my dad. When it was down to the Ravens or the Patriots, I admit I was leaning more towards wanting to play the Ravens, to help wash the bitter taste of the Super Bowl we do not speak of. But not my dad:
Me: So if we win the NFC Championship (psssh, if) then we’ll be playing the Ravens or the Patriots in the Super Bowl. Either way it’s a rematch.
Dad: Yeah, I want it to be the Patriots.
Me: Really? I mean, I’m always for beating the Patriots, but we kinda been there done that only four years ago. And the Ravens…well you know.
Dad: Yeah but no. I want to beat those scuzoids [this is seriously my dad’s version of swearing. I have never heard him say anything worse or even this bad about anyone in his whole life].
Me: Well, the Ravens could beat them and then they wouldn’t even make it to the Super Bowl.
Dad: Oh no, I want them to get to the Super Bowl so that they get their hopes up, then it’ll feel even worse when they lose. This maximizes the disappointment and hurt they will feel. Also, I want US to beat them. I want them to know who’s in charge.
Then he used the word “scuzoids” a few hundred more times before we hung up.
See, my dad grew up in New England so he has a long standing hatred of the New England Patriots and their fans. Just like how my brother and I grew up in the Washington, D.C. area and hate the Redskins almost as much as we love the Giants. Also the Redskins blow so hard the hookers on 9th should take notes.
I’m going to end with one last real life conversation relating to the upcoming game:
Roommate: You know Belichick was the defensive coordinator for the Giants under Bill Parcells?
Me: Yeah, then he decided to come out from under Parcells’ shadow and coach his own team only to discover he was nowhere near as talented and the only way he could win was by cheating.
Roommate: He has more Super Bowl rings than Parcells.
Me: From.Cheating.
Roommate: …fair enough.
[Side note: I just discovered that if you type “Belichick” into Google, the first auto-suggestion is “Belichick cheating”. Google knows what’s up].
Thursday, February 2, 2012
New Favorite Music Video
Trust Toasty on this one and clickey the linky.
You know a song is great when even on mute it makes you feel...inspired.
Yes, I know this is from a while ago and the band is already broken up, but if you care more about who wins the internets than two girls making out, 1) you belong on buzzfeed or Reddit not the zlog and 2) your priorities fill me with a deep sadness.
You know a song is great when even on mute it makes you feel...inspired.
Yes, I know this is from a while ago and the band is already broken up, but if you care more about who wins the internets than two girls making out, 1) you belong on buzzfeed or Reddit not the zlog and 2) your priorities fill me with a deep sadness.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
RESURRECTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Hello really really loyal followers, which at this point are the only followers I have left.
HI MOM!
(Kidding, there is no way in hell I'd let my mom read this).
Anyway, I come bearing exciting(?) announcements. First off, I am resurrecting the zlog. I am actually going to try to stick to a Monday, Wednesday, Friday schedule. I have no idea how. If I run out of stuff to write about I guess I'll just liveblog whatever's on the CW again. SO LOOK FORWARD TO THAT!
I've also decided on a kinda format. Mondays and Fridays will be the usual whatever I damn well feel like and Wednesdays I'm going to write about everybody's favorite subject: TV commercials. Sounds scintillating doesn't it? Just give it a chance, kay kay?
And that's it for now. What? Come on, wasn't all that enough? You know I give and I give and what do I get in return? The love of the best readers in the whole wide internet? Please?
HI MOM!
(Kidding, there is no way in hell I'd let my mom read this).
Anyway, I come bearing exciting(?) announcements. First off, I am resurrecting the zlog. I am actually going to try to stick to a Monday, Wednesday, Friday schedule. I have no idea how. If I run out of stuff to write about I guess I'll just liveblog whatever's on the CW again. SO LOOK FORWARD TO THAT!
I've also decided on a kinda format. Mondays and Fridays will be the usual whatever I damn well feel like and Wednesdays I'm going to write about everybody's favorite subject: TV commercials. Sounds scintillating doesn't it? Just give it a chance, kay kay?
And that's it for now. What? Come on, wasn't all that enough? You know I give and I give and what do I get in return? The love of the best readers in the whole wide internet? Please?
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Liveblogging a Terrible Richard Gere Movie
It's Saturday afternoon and that can mean only one thing: Time to tune into the CW to see what classic cinematic gem the little-network-that-could managed to buy the rights to.
This week is the ol' chestnut classic "Bee Season" starring the man, the myth, the person hamsters use to scare bad children: Richard Gere.
3:00
This movie is clearly from the 90s (I'm not even going to check I'm so sure) and everything is supposed to be super meaningful but nothing makes any sense and there is no plot.
No plot.
No plot.
There's a mom, a Richard Gere dad, a son, and a daughter that wins spelling bees.
3:20
Ok, so everyone in this family "has a secret." I thought the son was gonna be gay but turns out he's secretly Hindu. Who the hell is secretly Hindu? Get a real fucking secret dumbass. He even made up a phoney "permission slip" so he could trick his parents into thinking he's going on a camping trip with some school club but really he was hanging out at some Hindu rec center and like dancing and shit. I have no idea. How is this a real secret? I mean, teenagers don't tell their parents anything, but joining a religion with the fourth most adherents in the world is not rebellion. Unless conforming is the new rebellion?
3:31
There were two back-to-back commercials for baptist churches. Gotta step up the marketing this time of year? Do they compete against each other? Oh, I guess I should mention I'm visiting my family in the South. It probably makes more sense now.
3:33
I guess the wife's crazy? Is her secret that she's crazy? This is...and she steals? She steals things like broken glass? Richard is now crying in the back of a taxi. At least he decided not to drive to his breakdown. Safety first!
SideBar
So everyone is acting like Richard Gere is like this terrible husband and father, but he's the only one who isn't lying and seems to care about anyone at all. He keeps talking to them and asking questions, and they lie and then say "You never talk, we need to communicaaaaaate."
This.Makes.No.Sense.
Does Richard Gere have a job? He's just running around dealing with everyone else's problems.
3:37
Ok, now the wife is in the hospital for stealing things (in a meaningful way) and walking aimlessly and generally avoiding her family. Now she's saying she doesn't want to come home and is yelling at Richard. So it's his fault she hates her family?
3:38
Richard is pulling the son out of the Hindu rec center and they're yelling at each other and the son is all "YOU CAN'T CONTROL ME! MOM IS CRAZY BECAUSE YOU CONTROL USSSSSSSSSSSS!"
Now the daughter is praying. Or something.
3:42
Richard is hugging his daughter and telling her she was great in her spelling bee and none of the wackadoodle stuff going on is her fault. Cut to: the son telling the daughter Richard is just using her like he "USED US ALLLLLLLLL!"
What a bunch of fucking ingrates.
3:44
The daughter found something Richard was writing? Or reading? Anyway, now she's repeating "light" over and over again and there's some stuff about God and now it appears she has taken some acid.
And now she's having a seizure.
I'm not making any of this up. Clearly, this is why I'm not a big time hollywood writer, I can't think up things like meaningful seizures after a movie about driving around for 45 minutes.
3:49
Establishing shot: They are in Washington, D.C. Oh right, she's in the national spelling bee. I remember now, this is the only thing close to a plot point I've seen so far.
3:50
I need a drink.
3:51
UGHHHH! They are doing that played out movie trope where the character splashes water on their face and looks in the mirror. It's the daughter, if that matters. Then she whispers to herself "We can fix what has been broken." By that does she mean whatever went wrong with my day that I'm watching this?
3:52
The mom is watching the daughter on TV with a look like "I'm so proud even though I've had nothing to do with her success, in fact, she only succeeds despite my hostility and neglect." Because she's a terrible mother. Not sure I was being clear there.
Ugh, she is such a smug bitch. She is watching this on TV because she ran away from her family and refuses to come back, but yeah, your family is aces all thanks to you motherly devotion.
3:55
The daughter lost on purpose. Because it's meaningful. Now Richard is crying. Now he is hugging his son. I guess all they needed was for an 8 year old to lose a spelling bee to learn the true meaning of family?
OMG! The mom is smiling and crying and just told someone "She's my daughter." Like she's all proud and shit. Fuck you lady fictional character. Just fuck you. Almost anyone can spit out a kid. You can't just give birth, completely ignore your whole family, run away, and then go "didn't I do such a great job. I'm #1 mom, I've got the mug to prove it."
3:59
Credits. Salvation.
I'll give that movie one thing: For a movie with no plot, or coherent character motivation, or real conflict, it sure did make me feel angry. I wound up hating almost all of the characters, except Richard who I just felt really sorry for. So I guess since it made me feel any emotion at all (including deep regret that this is what my life has come to) it's art? Ok, sure.
In Conclusion
I have no idea if any of this was funny, but it sure was an adventure. An adventure we shared together. Like Richard Gere, I don't do this for your praise or appreciation, I do this for...some reason. Umm, a reason you are just not intellectual enough to understand. When you learn how to truly appreciate art and the vulnerability of man, you come back. This will all make sense. We can all hug and convert to religions that would piss our parents off. Because that is what grown ups do.
This week is the ol' chestnut classic "Bee Season" starring the man, the myth, the person hamsters use to scare bad children: Richard Gere.
3:00
This movie is clearly from the 90s (I'm not even going to check I'm so sure) and everything is supposed to be super meaningful but nothing makes any sense and there is no plot.
No plot.
No plot.
There's a mom, a Richard Gere dad, a son, and a daughter that wins spelling bees.
3:20
Ok, so everyone in this family "has a secret." I thought the son was gonna be gay but turns out he's secretly Hindu. Who the hell is secretly Hindu? Get a real fucking secret dumbass. He even made up a phoney "permission slip" so he could trick his parents into thinking he's going on a camping trip with some school club but really he was hanging out at some Hindu rec center and like dancing and shit. I have no idea. How is this a real secret? I mean, teenagers don't tell their parents anything, but joining a religion with the fourth most adherents in the world is not rebellion. Unless conforming is the new rebellion?
3:31
There were two back-to-back commercials for baptist churches. Gotta step up the marketing this time of year? Do they compete against each other? Oh, I guess I should mention I'm visiting my family in the South. It probably makes more sense now.
3:33
I guess the wife's crazy? Is her secret that she's crazy? This is...and she steals? She steals things like broken glass? Richard is now crying in the back of a taxi. At least he decided not to drive to his breakdown. Safety first!
SideBar
So everyone is acting like Richard Gere is like this terrible husband and father, but he's the only one who isn't lying and seems to care about anyone at all. He keeps talking to them and asking questions, and they lie and then say "You never talk, we need to communicaaaaaate."
This.Makes.No.Sense.
Does Richard Gere have a job? He's just running around dealing with everyone else's problems.
3:37
Ok, now the wife is in the hospital for stealing things (in a meaningful way) and walking aimlessly and generally avoiding her family. Now she's saying she doesn't want to come home and is yelling at Richard. So it's his fault she hates her family?
3:38
Richard is pulling the son out of the Hindu rec center and they're yelling at each other and the son is all "YOU CAN'T CONTROL ME! MOM IS CRAZY BECAUSE YOU CONTROL USSSSSSSSSSSS!"
Now the daughter is praying. Or something.
3:42
Richard is hugging his daughter and telling her she was great in her spelling bee and none of the wackadoodle stuff going on is her fault. Cut to: the son telling the daughter Richard is just using her like he "USED US ALLLLLLLLL!"
What a bunch of fucking ingrates.
3:44
The daughter found something Richard was writing? Or reading? Anyway, now she's repeating "light" over and over again and there's some stuff about God and now it appears she has taken some acid.
And now she's having a seizure.
I'm not making any of this up. Clearly, this is why I'm not a big time hollywood writer, I can't think up things like meaningful seizures after a movie about driving around for 45 minutes.
3:49
Establishing shot: They are in Washington, D.C. Oh right, she's in the national spelling bee. I remember now, this is the only thing close to a plot point I've seen so far.
3:50
I need a drink.
3:51
UGHHHH! They are doing that played out movie trope where the character splashes water on their face and looks in the mirror. It's the daughter, if that matters. Then she whispers to herself "We can fix what has been broken." By that does she mean whatever went wrong with my day that I'm watching this?
3:52
The mom is watching the daughter on TV with a look like "I'm so proud even though I've had nothing to do with her success, in fact, she only succeeds despite my hostility and neglect." Because she's a terrible mother. Not sure I was being clear there.
Ugh, she is such a smug bitch. She is watching this on TV because she ran away from her family and refuses to come back, but yeah, your family is aces all thanks to you motherly devotion.
3:55
The daughter lost on purpose. Because it's meaningful. Now Richard is crying. Now he is hugging his son. I guess all they needed was for an 8 year old to lose a spelling bee to learn the true meaning of family?
OMG! The mom is smiling and crying and just told someone "She's my daughter." Like she's all proud and shit. Fuck you lady fictional character. Just fuck you. Almost anyone can spit out a kid. You can't just give birth, completely ignore your whole family, run away, and then go "didn't I do such a great job. I'm #1 mom, I've got the mug to prove it."
3:59
Credits. Salvation.
I'll give that movie one thing: For a movie with no plot, or coherent character motivation, or real conflict, it sure did make me feel angry. I wound up hating almost all of the characters, except Richard who I just felt really sorry for. So I guess since it made me feel any emotion at all (including deep regret that this is what my life has come to) it's art? Ok, sure.
In Conclusion
I have no idea if any of this was funny, but it sure was an adventure. An adventure we shared together. Like Richard Gere, I don't do this for your praise or appreciation, I do this for...some reason. Umm, a reason you are just not intellectual enough to understand. When you learn how to truly appreciate art and the vulnerability of man, you come back. This will all make sense. We can all hug and convert to religions that would piss our parents off. Because that is what grown ups do.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Why do you hate everyone downwind of your head?
A few months back, I was taking a cab home after hanging out in houses of ill-repute with some friends. The driver was very nice but he had those things in his ears…what do you call them?...oh right, HUGE GAPING HOLES! Like so big I could fit both fists through one. When I got out of the cab, I tipped very well and SOMEHOW resisted the urge to say,
“Use this to buy staples and fix your unfortunate ear flap situation.”
I don’t know what this practice is actually called, but I’ve always called it “absolutely disgusting beyond all measure.” And a little while later I was proven EVEN MORE right (I know, I didn’t think it was possible either). One of my roommates is obsessed with only the worst reality TV has to offer. Like not the stuff on actual networks, the stuff on TruTV (“it’s not reality, it’s actuality” and actuality is another word for totes fake). So, we were watching World’s Strictest Parents on CMT (Country Music Television for those of you who are woefully uninformed on where to find the best reality TV), which, guys, if you haven’t seen it is…well…it’s pretty ok. Bordering on good in a trainwrecky sort of way. It’s a show where wayward teens (read: spoiled brats) are forced to live with another family that has strict parents (read: parents that actually make their kids do things like chores and shit). It doesn’t have the dramz that other, larger budget shows (Operation Repo) have, but if you hate kids as much as I do, it is intensely satisfying to watch the entitled worlds of these little jerkwads fall apart around them as they realize that FOR SOME REASON not everyone thinks they are a precious little snowflake who deserve to just be handed money for nipple piercings and cigarettes.
So we’re watching this show and one of the “misunderstood youths” has those big holes of bad decision making in both ears. The parents are making him and the other girl that’s there work at this rec center they own for a charity event that night (because they are clearly the devil and if poor kids need money for piercings why don’t they just get rich parents? DUH! It’s not that hard! This kid managed and he literally has several gaping head wounds. GAWD, poor people are so whiney). The parents tell them both they need to take out all of their visible piercings to work with the public, because their business has an image to uphold (the image of being totally old and lame, amiright?). The boy takes out his huge loopidy-doos (totally technical term) and the mom walks by to get something out of the sink AND ALMOST PASSES OUT! No shit, her eyes roll to the back of her head and her body starts swaying like she’s about to fall over. The dad catches her and asks what’s wrong,
“There was this smell. It was really over powering. I think a raccoon must have died in the pipes and the smell is coming up from the drain.”
Dad goes over to the sink,
“I don’t smell anything.”
“I didn’t make it up.”
“I’m not saying you did, but it’s not coming from the sink.”
“Maybe under the house?”
“*SIGH* I’ll get a flash light.”
And then the boy chimes in,
“Uh, guys. It’s not a dead raccoon, it’s my ears.”
To which the parents respond,
“…”
The kid explains,
“No really, when you pierce and stretch your skin like this, it smells for some reason.”
So the dad goes over and takes a whiff, howls, and says,
“That’s the smell of death. Your ears are literally rotting on your head.”
“Yeah.”
“Did you know that would happen when you got them done?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why…you know what? Never mind, just put the plugs back in and let’s go.”
After watching this I HAD to call my sister because she has these stupid things in her ears too. Granted, hers aren’t huge, but they are still fucking idiotic. So I call,
“Hey Toasted Mini-Wheats, it’s Toasty…so how are thingsssss?”
“Gooood. But for some reason I have the feeling you are about to mock me and you are just stalling to make the sweet taste of my shame linger on your lips for as long as possible.”
“You know me so well.”
“Well we are cut of the same cloth.”
“When did you move you 1862?”
“Shut up and get to why you called.”
“So you know those stupid stretcher things you have in your ears that tell the world your brother and I failed as parents and that you clearly hate us for failing so miserably in your upbringing?”
“Yup.”
“Did you know the skin around them is dead and if you take out the plugs they smell like rotting flesh?”
“Yup.”
“Wait what?”
“Yeah, if I take my plugs out they smell really gnarly.”
“Ok now we’re up to 1982 in our lingo but back to the issue at hand, did you know when you made this obviously terrible life decision that they would make your head smell like a corpse?”
“Yeah, a couple of my friends already had them and I had smelled them.”
“…ok maybe I’m missing something. I try very hard, on a daily basis, to do everything in my power to not smell like death.”
“Think about it this way: it could be used to repel boys.”
“Unless they also have plugs.”
“Yeah.”
“So you’ve made it so only stinky douchebags will be attracted to you.”
“Apparently, though I am uncommonly pretty so I bet I’ll still attract normal douchebags too.”
“I hate you so gawddamn much.”
“This kinda backfired on you didn’t it?”
“I can’t hear you over my mind screaming and the waterfall of whiskey falling into this glass.”
“I win this round.”
*click*
“Use this to buy staples and fix your unfortunate ear flap situation.”
I don’t know what this practice is actually called, but I’ve always called it “absolutely disgusting beyond all measure.” And a little while later I was proven EVEN MORE right (I know, I didn’t think it was possible either). One of my roommates is obsessed with only the worst reality TV has to offer. Like not the stuff on actual networks, the stuff on TruTV (“it’s not reality, it’s actuality” and actuality is another word for totes fake). So, we were watching World’s Strictest Parents on CMT (Country Music Television for those of you who are woefully uninformed on where to find the best reality TV), which, guys, if you haven’t seen it is…well…it’s pretty ok. Bordering on good in a trainwrecky sort of way. It’s a show where wayward teens (read: spoiled brats) are forced to live with another family that has strict parents (read: parents that actually make their kids do things like chores and shit). It doesn’t have the dramz that other, larger budget shows (Operation Repo) have, but if you hate kids as much as I do, it is intensely satisfying to watch the entitled worlds of these little jerkwads fall apart around them as they realize that FOR SOME REASON not everyone thinks they are a precious little snowflake who deserve to just be handed money for nipple piercings and cigarettes.
So we’re watching this show and one of the “misunderstood youths” has those big holes of bad decision making in both ears. The parents are making him and the other girl that’s there work at this rec center they own for a charity event that night (because they are clearly the devil and if poor kids need money for piercings why don’t they just get rich parents? DUH! It’s not that hard! This kid managed and he literally has several gaping head wounds. GAWD, poor people are so whiney). The parents tell them both they need to take out all of their visible piercings to work with the public, because their business has an image to uphold (the image of being totally old and lame, amiright?). The boy takes out his huge loopidy-doos (totally technical term) and the mom walks by to get something out of the sink AND ALMOST PASSES OUT! No shit, her eyes roll to the back of her head and her body starts swaying like she’s about to fall over. The dad catches her and asks what’s wrong,
“There was this smell. It was really over powering. I think a raccoon must have died in the pipes and the smell is coming up from the drain.”
Dad goes over to the sink,
“I don’t smell anything.”
“I didn’t make it up.”
“I’m not saying you did, but it’s not coming from the sink.”
“Maybe under the house?”
“*SIGH* I’ll get a flash light.”
And then the boy chimes in,
“Uh, guys. It’s not a dead raccoon, it’s my ears.”
To which the parents respond,
“…”
The kid explains,
“No really, when you pierce and stretch your skin like this, it smells for some reason.”
So the dad goes over and takes a whiff, howls, and says,
“That’s the smell of death. Your ears are literally rotting on your head.”
“Yeah.”
“Did you know that would happen when you got them done?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why…you know what? Never mind, just put the plugs back in and let’s go.”
After watching this I HAD to call my sister because she has these stupid things in her ears too. Granted, hers aren’t huge, but they are still fucking idiotic. So I call,
“Hey Toasted Mini-Wheats, it’s Toasty…so how are thingsssss?”
“Gooood. But for some reason I have the feeling you are about to mock me and you are just stalling to make the sweet taste of my shame linger on your lips for as long as possible.”
“You know me so well.”
“Well we are cut of the same cloth.”
“When did you move you 1862?”
“Shut up and get to why you called.”
“So you know those stupid stretcher things you have in your ears that tell the world your brother and I failed as parents and that you clearly hate us for failing so miserably in your upbringing?”
“Yup.”
“Did you know the skin around them is dead and if you take out the plugs they smell like rotting flesh?”
“Yup.”
“Wait what?”
“Yeah, if I take my plugs out they smell really gnarly.”
“Ok now we’re up to 1982 in our lingo but back to the issue at hand, did you know when you made this obviously terrible life decision that they would make your head smell like a corpse?”
“Yeah, a couple of my friends already had them and I had smelled them.”
“…ok maybe I’m missing something. I try very hard, on a daily basis, to do everything in my power to not smell like death.”
“Think about it this way: it could be used to repel boys.”
“Unless they also have plugs.”
“Yeah.”
“So you’ve made it so only stinky douchebags will be attracted to you.”
“Apparently, though I am uncommonly pretty so I bet I’ll still attract normal douchebags too.”
“I hate you so gawddamn much.”
“This kinda backfired on you didn’t it?”
“I can’t hear you over my mind screaming and the waterfall of whiskey falling into this glass.”
“I win this round.”
*click*
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