Here comes the awesome

If y'all are always hoping for a ginormous philler post, this is your lucky week. Circumstances dictate that I post a excessive amount of links today (ie I have a 2 week backlog + my boss is off today).

But lets start with a story. As you may know, I was up in bumblefuck Vermont skiing last weekend. At one point early on the first day I crashed and went sliding off the trail. Good Times. But little did I know that while escaping physical injury, it was the breaking point for my 20-year-old bindings that my pops got from a garage sale.

I managed to get the skis back on at that point, but then got a little aggressive further down the hill, and wrecked again losing my ski in the process. And this time I couldn't get it back on. I tried sticking my toe in the front part and skiing gingerly -- but that didn't work. Finally I said fuck it and just pirouetted down the mountain on my back, with my one good ski spinning in the air like a gimpy helicopter blade. I'm sure everyone in the lift line enjoyed it.

Anyway, on with the links.

Communist Mario!

One site that has made it into my rotation is Improv Everywhere, a New York comedy troupe that stages large scale pranks. A couple of my faves are stopping time in Grand Central Station and the McDonalds Bathroom Attendant.

In the latest fear-mongering techniques, we have this site. At first I thought it might be satire of some sort, but alas tis not the case. Soul thieves? Christ. Better get your kid a wholesome toy like the PlayMobil Security Checkpoint. Be sure to check the user feedback comments on that.

Gary Busey is insane? You don't say. I thoroughly enjoy watching him berate some 11-year-old reporter asking him retarded questions about Paris Hilton and Lindsey Lohan. "Winners do what losers don't want to do" whatever that means.



America's biggest export these days is our pop culture according to this article from 10 years ago. It's only a matter of time before this Drunk Girls on Facebook trend sweeps across the globe.

In eco-science news, we have this lamp that is powered by gravity. I definitely want one of those. But that's small potatoes compared this awesome plan for solar power.

The ghost of professional wrestler Owen Hart haunts the arena where he fell to his death. Seems about right.

Baseball games are being played. Sure its only spring training, but that doesn't stop Billy Wagner from being a dick. Play to win against Villanova? What does that even mean?

This week's music video comes courtesy of a tip from the anonymous all-caps commenter who mentioned the quirky indie band How I became the Bomb. Here is a fan-made video for their song "Secret Identity," which is apparently about having a secret identity like Spider-Man or possibly Batman.



Let's see, what else? Kicking footballs at cars? Sure, seems reasonable.

Finally, here's the hilarious and kind of old audio of a cop freaking out on a 911 call after eating some herbal brownies he made with confiscated weed. I think we're dead.

That's it, I'm going to go work on my science project "Extreme Wood." Laters.

FGBC: Attacked by Comanches

Here we'll take a look at Blood Meridian chapters 3 and 4. I'll admit, I read ahead, because it's getting harder to keep a slow pace as the story picks up steam. But we'll see how it goes.

The main gist of these chapters is the kid enlisting in with a company of army irregulars aka filibusters for some reason.. The company then goes on an ill-advised march into the desert to fight the Mexicans and is attacked by Indians.

It's good to see the advances in troop recruitment from then to now. From pulling soldiers out of trees to pulling them out of schools. And clearly it sucks to be traveling across the desert by horse, what with the wolves and the dying and all. I especially enjoyed the Capn White interview. The kid is scrappy.

But clearly the awesome is the two page one paragraph zombie Comanche attack. This is just brutal fucking crazy people slaughter. Horses screaming and the army getting run down and scalped by monguls "running about with a peculiar bandylegged trot like creatures driven to alien forms of locomotion" and so on with the sodomy.

This book is starting to remind me of a horribly bloody 'Huckleberry Finn' -- the constant change of scenery, various characters appearing and disappearing in the story. Moving west v. traveling down the Mississippi.

Unanswered Questions:
Road novel?
The kid vs Huckleberry Finn?
Can we go to 2 chapters a week?
Captain White: casual racist, moron or both?
The Mule is OK, right?

Chicken chicken chicken

Putting together the Blood Meridian post, but I forgot to bring the book with me to work, so it'll be up a little later today. In the meanwhile, enjoy this informative presentation that I believe represents academia at its finest.

You Forgot Plankton

The other day I came across this diatribe about how big business is destroying the earth. In lieu of an actual post I write, here it is:

I'd like to start out by saying, thank you to all the brothers and sisters that have come here today representing this cause. I have been asked by Mr. Itok and the tribal council to speak to you and the members of the Press about the injustice that has been brought against us by some Government Officials and Big Business.

How many of you out there have heard of alternative engines? Engines that can run on anything from alcohol to garbage or water. Or carburetors that can get hundreds of miles to the gallon. Or electric or magnetic engines, that can practically run forever. You don't know about them because if they were to come into use, they'd put the oil companies out of business.

The concept of the internal combustion engine has been obsolete for over fifty years. But because of the Oil Cartels and corrupt government regulation, we and the rest of the world have been forced to use gasoline for over a hundred years.

Big Business is primarily responsible for destroying the water we drink, the air we breathe and the food we eat. They have no care for the world they destroy, only for the money they make in the process. How many oil spills can we endure? Millions and millions of gallons of oil are now destroying the ocean and the many forms of life it supports.

Among these is plankton, which supplies sixty to ninety percent of the Earth's oxygen. This supports the entire marine ecosystem which forms the basis of our planet's food supply. But the plankton is dying.I thought, well, let's go to remote state or country, anywhere on Earth. But in doing a little research I realized that these people broker toxic waste all over the world. They basically control the legislation, and, in fact, they control the Law.

The Law says, "no company can be fined over $25,000 a day." For companies making $10,000,000 dollars a day by dumping lethal toxic wastes into the ocean, it's only good business to continue doing this. They influence the media so that they can control our minds. They have made it a crime to speak out for ourselves, and if we do so we're called "conspiracy nuts" and we're laughed at. We're angry because we're all being chemically and genetically damaged, and we don't even realize it.

Unfortunately, this will effect our children. We go to work each day and right under our noses we see our car and the car in front of us spewing noxious poisonous gasses that are all accumulative poisons. These poisons kill us slowly, even when we see no effect. How many of us would have believed if we were told twenty years ago that on a certain day we wouldn't be able to see fifty feet in front of us. That we wouldn't be able to take a deep breath because the air would be a mass of poisonous gas. That we wouldn't be able to drink out of our faucets, that we'd have to buy water out of bottles.

Our most common and God-given rights have been taken away from us. Unfortunately, the reality of our lives is so grim that nobody wants to hear it. Now, I've been asked what we can do?

I think we need a responsible body of people that can actually represent us rather than Big Business. This body of people must not allow the introduction of anything into our environment that is not absolutely biodegradable or able to be chemically neutralized upon production.

And finally, as long as there is profit to be made from polluting the Earth, companies and individuals will continue to do what they want. We have to force these companies to operate safely and responsibly, and with all our best interests in mind. So that when they don't, we can take back our resources and our hearts and our minds and do what's right.

As you surely guessed, these are the words of one Forrest Taft, as played by acting legend Steven Seagal in the 1994 environmental actioner "On Deadly Ground." Honestly, if we haven't headed the warnings of Steven Seagal, who are we going to listen to? All hope is clearly lost. Oh well ... pandas?

Going Down Like McNulty

This image has been altered to protect the guilty

I offer no context nor apologies for the above picture. Instead, with one episode to go, let's take a look back at my (admittedly facetious) preseason Wire predictions.

Bubbles finally gets off the needle - 1 for 1!

Clay Davis and the developers get taken down for corruption - Never underestimate the race card.

McNulty dies in a drunken-driving accident - No, this is stupid

Brother Mouzone comes back for some reason - Not yet (fingers crossed)

Method Man aka "Cheese" learns Randy Wagstaff is his son, forcing him to leave the Wu Tang Clan and start a family with Randy's burn victim foster mother - Uhhh, no

Under the tutelage of Bunny Colvin, Namond Brice gets into college - Count it!

Avon gets out of prison and starts his own bakery - No.

Prop Joe goes on "The Biggest Loser" - He was the biggest loser. When he died.

Carcetti becomes a racist - Only if he fires Norman

Snoop and Chris get bizayyyy - Apparently Snoop is a lesbian. Also, no.

Freamon ponders a problem, then figures it out - Obviously this happened

Rawls meets Omar, they run off together - Ummmm, no.

Two words: Race Riots - Unlikely

Bunk lights his clothes on fire ... again - This may have happened off camera

Well there you have it. My completely BS predictions went a solid 3 for 12. Fainting Goats, now 25 percent accurate!

You're right, I am the best around

I gotta say, getting away and unplugging for a few days is pretty much the greatest thing I have ever done, or anyone has ever done in the history of earth. No hyperbole there. I hate hyperbole. Anyways, not much too report, because I'm still in a good mood from some quality snow, and I don't want to get depressed by thinking about anything.

But I do know it's good to ease back into the world wide interweb with something that goes down smooth like Stuff White People Like. Also, a Joe Esposito soundtrack makes returning to my cube-monkey job way more palatable.

Site News: See Ya Suckers!

Well, I'm going out of town tomorrow for a much needed vacation. Myself and a couple friends will be hitting the slopes in Vermont for a couple days. I plan on crashing into a tree and breaking several ribs and/or arms. It will be glorious until E-Roc sprays my bed with excessive amounts of Axe Body Spray as some sort of horrible practical joke gone wrong.

Anyway, my point -- no book club this week, unless gpiece or some other contributor to this blog want to take up the reins (cough, TMoney, cough). If things go as I expect and nobody does anything, look for two chapters in next week's edition.

There will be no filler on friday either. So unless I have the strange notion to post something from Vermont, this is the last you'll hear from me until next week. I'll leave you with this hilariously disturbing video of "Mr. Awesome" aka video game champ Roy Shildt. If you have seen the documentary "King of Kong: Fistful of Quarters" you know what I'm talking about.

Best Graphic Ever

Won't someone think of the puppies?

Sophie, the golden retriever, tried to tell them something.
"She started crying right away, and we had no idea why until we started to count the puppies and realized there was two missing, and then we realized they were two females," Avalone said.
Two puppies were stolen out of the 10 left from their original litter of 16.
"Well, it was simple," Avalone said. "They go with anybody. Puppies don't know any different."
Boughner said he and Avalone are just worried about the dogs' well-being.
"What did they do with them?" he said. "Did they still have them? Did they take them out and kill them or hurt them? Where are they at? Are they OK?"

Disregard the fact that these poor puppies are certainly dead -- killed for their precious pelts, no doubt -- who steals a puppy? I know they are pretty valuable, pure-bred golden retrievers can run you close to a grand. But is there really a black market for dogs? This isn't Korea.

Although, if you were doing a little B&E and came across this little face, could you resist having a new best friend? I say no. But then again I do suffer from soul-crushing loneliness. In fact, that could be some sort of anti-pharmaceutical mantra, "Puppies: Better than Xanax." Nobody ever overdosed on puppy. OR HAVE THEY?

The Machine Always Wins

"WE WILL PROTECT YOU"
-Tommy Carcetti

You may remember in last weeks book club i briefly mentioned the destruction of individuals by post-modern institutions. Well, I have been thrown into some sort of horrible downward spiral by episode 58 of The Wire. In turn I'm in a place where I need to ruminate on these thoughts, for my own peace of mind if nothing else (no spoilers).

To plagiarize a bunch of websites -- postmodernism refers to a state lacking a clear organizing principle and embodying extreme complexity, contradiction, ambiguity, diversity, and interconnectedness. Its hard to locate temporally or historically, because it's not clear exactly when it begins. The easiest way to understand it is to think about modernism (an esoteric concept in itself, but simplified: "It's all connected") with a cynical attitude. Google it if you need more, idiot.

David Simon, bleak motherfucker that he is, has made postmodernism one of the major themes of the Wire -- especially how this "attitude" results in institutions destroying people operating within them. There are countless examples in the show -- basically run down the character list, then omit a few, such as Marlo or Clay Davis (so far). Dukie could very well the most depressing character in the history of fiction.

Remember the hermit in Blood Meridian, when he said a machine that can make a machine, An evil that can run itself a thousand years? It's happened in these bureaucracies, be it government, schools, media, whatever. Some individuals operating within them are the cogs, the small moving parts slowly being worn down. Others are the fuel, burnt and changed forever. There is no operator. A self-perpetuating machine that crushes any individual who tries to stand up. Don't believe me? Go to the DMV.



I can only really speak on the institution I'm involved in. As much I want to believe the Wire is truth, the media is the only place I have experience as a small moving part. For some kind of perspective check out this article about how "flat earth news" is killing journalism. It starts kind of slow, but I think he hits the nail on the head.

Whereas you should have a system where journalists, working honestly and independently, make what used to be called news judgments and say this story is important, this angle needs to be expressed, this research needs to be done, instead now we sit there passively and those decisions are made by the whole magic world of PR and the public and private and the charity sector and the terrorist groups. They write the press releases and we bung ‘em in.

You may wonder why. Why don't those good-for-nothing journos do their jobs and parse the information, perhaps with a little analysis? Well, some do. But to think critically about what people are telling you takes time. You may not get a crucial call back -- but the story is still going to run. Deadline doesn't wait. And then that tardy source is pissed because you wrote a slanted story and won't talk to you, leading to more slanted bullshit stories from the same sources with the same insane ax to grind.

Another Wire theme that comes to mind here is "More with Less." Newsrooms across the country are increasingly asked to do more with less, as advertising budgets shrink and the investors get antsy. But as Gus Haynes so aptly put it, you don't do more with less, you do less with less. Reporters are expected to have stories every day. I'm not saying they shouldn't write stuff everyday, but do you really think there is going to be in-depth coverage coming from a doe-eyed 22-year-old who doesn't know anyone in the community? It takes time to cultivate quality sources, years in some cases. Imagine some unknown reporter calling you up, trying to get the dirt on your shit.

Hahahaha .... Japan

You know baseball is back when the locker-room hijinks start. In the above video, Brett Myers took a break from being a gaping asshole to be a hilarious asshole. He enlisted about half the Phillies organization to help him convince Kyle Kendrick that he had been traded to some Japanese team for "Kobayashi." I prefer to think it was the Kobayashi from Usual Suspects rather than the champion hot dog eater. It's more high-brow that way.

Dog Show

What a week. Here's some crap I found while waiting in line for free chicken.

Spring training is here! I for one look forward to seeing the Phillies marked improvement due to their blockbuster signings of Geoff Jenkins, Pedro Feliz and Kris Benson. It's fucking guaranteed.

Here's a cool list of bad ass medieval weapons

In borderline pornography news, the SI Swimsuit issue is on newsstands. I prefer to get my scantily-clad women on the internet. Oh, good.

I'm undecided on what I should do for my next vacation. On one hand we have horse surfing. On the other hand, cocaine is a helluva drug and its just there for the finding. Or maybe I'll just go to China and watch a lion ride a horse.

The R-rated trailer is out for "Pineapple Express" a stoner movie from Judd Apatow and crew. Watch it here. Between that and Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo, the stoner movie demographic seems well covered in the near future.

More important I think is the well-played use of MIA's song "Paper Planes" in the pineapple express trailer. That is just an outstanding song. In fact, I have watched the video about 50 times in the past couple days. Third World Democracy indeed.
Also, that replaces the end of Ruff Rider's Anthem as the best ever use of gunfire in music.

That's it, try not to go extinct.

FGBC: I might do

In chapter 2, the kid makes his way out into the nowheres of Texas on his trusty mule. I think the mule is my favorite character so far, ugly beast that it be. Carries the kid without complaint -- but given the chance it'll make his way to water. Here's hoping it makes its way to greener pastures someday, but I doubt it.

One thing that struck me in this chapter is the imagery McCarthy uses -- the shadow that stretches out for miles in front the kid as he rides the mule, his crazy hat, etc.

On his journey the kid encounters a creepy hermit and some ranchers. The hermit is an interesting character, an ex-slaver his $200 nigger heart and his staring at the kid while he sleeps. Their conversation is a good one, especially this passage:

No. It's a mystery. A man's at odds to know his mind cause his mind is aught he has to know it with. He can know his heart, but he dont want to. Rightly so. Best not look in there. It aint the heart of a creature that is bound in the way that God has set for it. You can find meanness in the least of creatures, but when God made man the devil was at his elbow. A creature that can do anything. Make a machine. And a machine to make a machine. And evil that can run itself a thousand years, no need to tend it. You believe that?

I think this is a good illustration of McCarthy weaving gnosticism(for lack of a better term) into the story. I think he's saying that while evil exists in all animals and all the world for that matter. But in man that evil manifests itself with more purity, more concentration. "An evil that can run itself a thousand years" is a horrifying prospect, but I think its true. Here I could make comparisons to post-modern institutions destroying those they are designed to serve and those who operate within them, but that's something for another day.

After the kid gets to whatever town he's at now, he tries to barter for a drink. The bartender won't serve him so once again it's fightin' time. The next morning the kid wakes up in some church ruins, and goes off to find his missing mule, which is down by the river (not in a van) watering. I am trying to recall the last sentence, something about a wretched baptism. Seemed appropriate.

Also, even though the Judge doesn't show up in this chapter, I gotta give props to dr.gpiece for comparing him to Charlie Villanueva. Definitely a more apt comparison than Shaq.

Unanswered questions
You think the bartender would have served the kid to avoid a broken bottle in the eye?
Are the Indians going to show up soon?
Why did I just read that spoiler?

First five years try to get with the plan

"I create feelings in others that they themselves don't understand."
-Lightning McQueen

It's kind of funny how your tastes change as you get older. I think its called maturing by people who know the definitions of words. Take music for instance. Personally my musical tastes have changed quite a bit from my teenage years. Back in high school I scoffed at anything without searing vocals and face-melting guitars. Now my favorite radio station is WXPN -- a commercial-free station put out from the University of Pennsylvania that plays mostly indie stuff.

Movies are another example. Well maybe not, considering how much I enjoyed watching the Pixar film "Cars" last night. It's a G-Rated movie, after all. But from "The Incredibles" to "Shrek" these new computer animated films manage to appeal to a more mature audience drunk on Jameson.

The plot of "Cars" is pretty simple, being a kids movie and all. In summary, hot-shot race car gets stuck in small town and learns lesson about what really matters -- sweet Porsche ass. That or life can be better when you slow down a bit and see what's around you. Either way.


I guess my point is that unlike music, people with varying tastes can enjoy the same film. Even if it is in different ways. For example, in "Cars" I liked the themes of getting off the beaten path and the cheap references to Freebird, whereas a 5-year-old would be all "Vroom, vroom, go fast!"

This universal appeal is especially the case with films aimed at kids, because they have to appeal to the lowest common denominator. Kids are stupid, it's a scientific fact. In films such as this there's no violence to turn off the squeamish, or sex to turn off the prudes. And there are levels of humor, so even idiots have something to laugh at (cough, Larry the Cable Guy, cough). It's safe to say "Cars" appeals to a wider demographic than, say, Children of Men.


Anyway, I salute you, makers of this movie. You not only were able to successfully make animated cars into emotionally complex characters, you held this cynics interest for two hours. An impressive achievement in this scrabulous age.

Got Nuthin'

A couple post ideas percolating, but nothing is coming together this morning and I have "work" to do. And by work I mean continue my budding voice-over career. What?

Anyway, this video is hilarious, especially if you sing "Fat Guy with a Little Gun" ala Tommy Boy while waiting for it to load.


Programming note: You may have noticed a little box that recently appeared over on the right side here, below the links. This "widget" is my way of subtly shoving my musical tastes down your throat. You can listen to the tracks listed by clicking on them and then clicking on the play button on the hype machine page.

It turns out the alligator was sexually harassing that woman

You know, sometimes its hard to come up with stuff to post on here. To "feed the goat" if you will. And that's kind of weird because goats will eat anything.

Forced metaphors aside, one of the old standbys for posts here is something from the animal kingdom. So today let's take a look at the orcas of the forest: Bears.

These furry bastards have a long and storied history of entertainment value. I believe the first instance of bears in pop culture was Gentle Ben. OK that's not true. Bear baiting was fucking intense. (Note: Simpsons reference)

My personal bear experience is limited to two incidents:
1. Joe, my roommate in college, had a life-size snarling bear head wearing a football helmet. It was both disturbingly scary and proved his Chicago Bear fan bonafides. Many a visitor in our apartment were frightened by it. I believe one of his family members had actually made it, detailed painting and all. Clearly he comes from good stock.

2. Hiking in Glacier National Park I encountered a momma bear with her cub. We came around the bend and saw the little cub about 50 yards up the trail. It looked like a little raccoon. But my thought process went from "awwwww" to "Holy Shit, run away!" when its 400-pound parent came lumbering out of the woods. I'm just glad it wasn't a Grizzly.

Clearly these fuckers are a menace, Stephen Colbert will surely tell you. Although I think his singling out of Grant Hill is unfair and unwarranted.

Not really sure where all this is going, but I do know that Bears should be allowed to participate in eating competitions.

Ant no party ...

Here we are, the week that was the first week in February. Let's take a look at some shit I found when not avoiding a newborn pestilence.

Baseball is coming up sooner rather than later. Pitchers and Catchers report for the Phils on Feb. 13. That means its time for those of us who will be frequenting the left field bleachers at Citizens Bank Park to start thinking of creative heckles. Fortunately for us, the Heckler's Prospectus does our research for us. Take this for example:

Lee, Carlos - Did you know that his nickname "El Caballo" actually means "Elevated Horse Cock" in Spanish? Well, just assume it does and go from there. In order to get your sure-to-be-hilarious visual aids into the ballpark, disguise them as innocent inflatable bats. Bonus tip: A windbreaker and a few bags of popcorn can easily pass for a scrotum. Just ask your aunt, who is presumably a whore.

Also kinda baseball-related, here's video of Shane Victorino at the Philadelphia Car Show for some reason (Firefox no).

Bacon Candy? Praise Jebus!

This is an interesting little article about Calvin and Hobbes as a precursor to fight club. I was surprised to see how many parallels can be made.

In a cruel twist of fate, it was determined earlier this week that sippin on the syrup actually contributed to the death of Pimp C.

This week in fan-made videos we have a little Radiohead action. Finally replaced my missing copy of OK Computer yesterday -- to celebrate, enjoy check out this animation of the Stephen Hawking-style vocal track "Fitter, Happier."


For my next vacation, I want to go to the plastic soup in the Pacific Ocean. Oh it will be glorious. Maybe I'll find some sort of Mr. Sparkle-type artifacts.

That's it, I'm going to go craft some completely sane, rational rants against Barack Obama. Enjoy the weekend.

FGBC: The fuck is a Toadvine?

Here we are, first chapter of Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian. First thing I noticed was the dialogue -- or lack there of. Eventually I realized that just because there are no quotation marks it doesn't mean the characters aren't talking to each other. The more you know.

Night of your birth. Thirty-three. The Leonids they were called. God how the stars did fall. I looked for blackness, holes in the heavens. The Dipper stove.

The chapter starts by introducing us to the main character, the protagonist if you will, known only as the kid. We get a little backstory, typical American tale of woe: Born in Tennessee under a famous meteor shower, Mother died in childbirth, Father never said a word about her. Shot twice on a riverboat, so he sits down. Eventually he makes his way to Nacogdoches, Texas, which is where most of the action takes place in Chapter 1.

In Nacogdoches, the kid slips into a revival tent, which is packed with smelly folks trying to avoid the rain. Here we meet the judge, a giant man who accuses the preacher of being a fraudulent goat-fucker, and the crowd presumably kills him. Later it turns out the judge didn't even know the preacher, and everyone laughs. I like to think of the judge as a white, hairless Shaquille O'Neal.

Later the kid decides to fight some character because they don't want to step in the mud (cause it has been raining for more than 2 weeks). Then he gets knocked out and when he wakes up he helps Toadvine smoke some guy out of his hotel room, burning down the hotel in the process. He then slinks out of town on his trusty mule.

The kid is clearly badass, he kicks a lot of ass in this chapter. Going forward, I'll be interested to see what kind of themes develop. I doubt there will be a classic good v. evil clashes. I got the sense in this chapter that the kid is just kind of flying by the seat of his pants in a chaotic world. There is no good or evil, only men, making their way in an unforgiving and harsh land.

That's pretty much all I got for now. I read this chapter twice just to get some grasp of what was going on, and some parts are still confusing. Reading slowly and several times seems like it could be prudent.

Unanswered Questions:
Did anyone else read the book?
Why doesn't the Judge have any hair?
Gnosticism?
Will violence solve anything?
How many comparisons will I be able to make between this and No Country for Old Men?

Flying Babies!?!

I came across this photo this morning on the wire, and it deeply concerns and frightens me. Apparently John McCain has enlisted some sort of airborne baby army to spread his "I was tortured" message across the country.

I can just picture the horror on April 22nd when a horde of infants swoops into Pennsylvania for the primary like a plague of locusts, consuming everything and sparing no one. Oh the humanity.

What's even more disturbing is this aerial menace appears to be spreading around the globe. That story may say that the baby was thrown by its parents to escape a fire. Don't be fooled by the spin of the liberal media. Not only can that baby fly -- it apparently has developed an imperviousness to fire.

I'll be stocking up on pacifiers, Wiggles DVDs and "blankies" in hopes of stemming this inevitable tide of horrible, horrible toddlers. Be afraid America, judgement day is coming. Vote McCain, or prepare for the preemie scourge.

Best Films: #101 Hot Fuzz

I may have mentioned in this space how awesome Netflix is before, but let me reiterate: My quality of life has improved by at least 20% since I got it. I even have a girlfriend now! (OK thats a lie, but I did go to a strip bar last weekend)

Anywho, the most recent arrival in my mailbox was this Simon Pegg/Edgar Wright homage to the buddy cop genre. I was unsure of how much I would like it, because I wasn't the biggest fan of their zombie romp 'Shaun of the Dead.' I mean it was pretty good, but I dunno, it just didn't really do it for me.

I guess its just a matter of personal preference and/or sobriety. In hindsight its clear this flick is right up my alley, because I've been known to enjoy a ridiculous cop movie now and again. And 'Hot Fuzz' is certainly that. It's like Bad Boys II, except hilarious, British and watchable.

The first 10 minutes sums it up better than I can (while this video is available). And if you haven't seen it, do yourself a favor, watch the video and skip the rest of this post.


Tagline: Big Cops. Small Town. Moderate Violence.

Plot Spoilers: The NWA is a secret society that kills off underage drinkers and mimes so Sandford always wins the annual "Village of the Year" competition.

Memorable Quotes:

Simon Skinner: I think you will find me a slasher... of prices!

repeated line: By the power of Greyskull!

Nicholas Angel: I didn't mean to upset the apple cart.
Det. Andy Cartwright: Oh yeah, cause we all sell apples 'round here, don't we?
Danny Butterman: Your dad sells apples Andy.
Det. Andy Cartwright: And raspberries.

repeated line: SWAN!

Danny Butterman: Ever fired your gun in the air and yelled, Aaaaaaah?

Nicholas Angel: In the meantime, why don't you check out a few of Martin Blower's clients?
Det. Andy Wainwright: Martin Blower represents damn near most of the village. Do you want us to go through the whole phone book?
Det. Andy Cartwright: Yeah, we'll put a call in to Aaron A. Aaronson, shall we?
Nicholas Angel: Please, don't be childish. At least consider interviewing the widow. Martin Blower was clearly having an affair with Eve Draper.
Det. Andy Wainwright: Ohh, and how did you establish that?
Danny Butterman: [pounds table] 'Cause we sat through three hours of so-called acting last night, and the kiss was the only convincing moment in it.
Det. Andy Wainwright: All right, pipe down, biggun'
Det. Andy Cartwright: Here, what else you got, Crockett and Tubby?
Nicholas Angel: Skid marks!
Det. Andy Wainwright: Now who's being childish?

[Danny accidently shoots the town physician]
Nicholas Angel: You're a doctor, deal with it.
Danny Butterman: Yeah Motherfucker

Nicholas Angel: Mr. Porter, what's your wine selection?
Roy Porter: Oh, we've got red... and, er... white?
Nicholas Angel: I'll have a pint of lager, please.

Danny Butterman: Where's the trolley boy?
Nicholas Angel: In the freezer.
Danny Butterman: Did you say "cool off?"
Nicholas Angel: No I didn't say anything...
Danny Butterman: Shame.
Nicholas Angel: Well, there was the part that you missed where I distracted him with the cuddle monkey then i said "play times over" and I hit him in the head with the peace lily.
Danny Butterman: You're off the fuckin' chain!

[while holding a red-haired boy hostage]
Simon Skinner: Stop, or the ginger-nut gets it!

Inspector Frank Butterman: Before you could say 'gypsy scum' we were knee-deep in dog muck, thieving kids and crusty jugglers.

Nicholas Angel: Well, I wouldn't argue that it wasn't a no holds barred, adrenaline fueled thrill ride. But, there is no way you can perpetrate that amount of carnage and mayhem and not incur a considerable amount of paperwork.

Best Character: Here I gotta go with Simon Skinner played to ridiculous perfection by Timothy Dalton. He is a classic example of how Hot Fuzz uses classic cop movie cliches. The Skinner character is a take on the sinister villain in cop movies, totally over the top and obviously evil from the first scene he appears in. I especially enjoy the scenes in the supermarket.

Another reason to see it: An appearance by Stephen Merchant, as a man who has lost his swan. You may remember Merchant from his collaborations with Ricky Gervais in The Office and Extras.

I love the smell of schadenfreude in the morning

And by morning, I mean evening. Stupid work, taking up blogging time. That said, I did make this when I got a chance.



Also, I take full credit for the Giants win, because I didn't watch the game. But a toll booth operator told me the results. Thats how I like my news, secondhand from public servants. I rule. 19 dollars? Get out of here. Mmm, pretzels!

En Guard!

The awesome Philadelphia tradition known as the Wing Bowl is today. It's hard to believe this thing has been around for 16 years. Nothing better than getting drunk at 5 a.m. Wingettes plus scummy morning radio hosts equals pure class. Funny story actually -- last year we ran a big spread on the front page of our paper about the wing bowl. But it seems the local populace was less-concerned with eating hero "Dr. Slob" than the scantily-clad Wingettes corrupting area youth.

Obama wants to legalize pot. But, shhhh, it's a secret.

From I-Mockery we have this video of fatalities from the game "Tattoo Assassins." Bad game, or worst game ever? You be the judge.


Montel Williams lost his job. Apparently he tried to stand up for journalistic ethics on Fox News or something. A sad day for the man I like to call the black Phil Donohue.

John Kruk was on Aqua Teen Hunger Force for some reason. As a Siren. Like a band? No.

Old people, while slow and dangerous behind the wheel, can serve a purpose. And that purpose is counting the number of sheets in a roll of toilet paper.

Finally, despite its perversion by the media, try to remember the true meaning of Barbaro Day: "The day that human beings learned to put their differences aside and treat one another as they would want a 1,200-pound racehorse to be treated."

That's it. We've come a long way on these internets and I'm calling it a day.