(references http://jim000037.livejournal.com/2005/12/25/)
For two years now He's gone his way, and I've gone mine. Well, sortakinda...
I mean, I've forgiven him the stockings full of coal and reindeer shit he's left since Christmas '05... I got 'em out of the house before Dorris woke up and everything was fine. I understand... I mean, for fuck's sake, we tried to rob him.
But evidently he was not pleased with my discomfiture, we were not being sufficiently tortured by his holiday offerings, so this year he stepped things up a notch.
He let his offerings age a bit... and added some things, I'm thinking.
So I woke up very goddamn early Christmas morning to the most gawdawful stench this side of New Jersy (or Pasadena, Texas). It filled the house like a San-Francisco-Fog-O'-Funk, the dogs were whimpering and crying... Dorris slept through it courtesy of her CPAP machine... I got up, let the dogs out, got the offending stockings into three layers of garbage bag and out to the trashcan. I came back in, opened up the windows, shifted some fans around, got air moving through the house (which I knew was gonna piss off Dorris 'cause she's allergic to woodsmoke and every idiot and their grandmother in this part of the world fires up their fireplaces the first time the temp drops to 50... evidently 'severe' cold like that is the harbinger of the next ice age or something) and tried to de-funk-ify my house. The dogs didn't want to come back in (and these are animals that think kitty-crunchies are dessert cakes and that ass is the taste dogs naturally crave) and I really couldn't blame them... but I thought to myself that surely the smell would fade with a little time.
That was last Thursday, bright and early.
It's almost a week later.
We can sortakinda stand to be in the house... as long as we can put up with the burning in our eyes. The dogs still refuse to come in, have dug in on the south side of the shed in the back yard and seem content to sleep there, all huddled together out of the wind. I mean, it has faded... it's down to about a 5 from the 10 it was at Christmas morning. I've hunted all over for any other little presents he might have left, and there aren't any, so I'm thinking the lingering odor is some more of that elfin fuckin' magic.
Today, in the mail, I get a postcard from Santa... "Have a Stinky New Year". Fat fucker.
So I've got fifty-one weeks to plan our next move... because as my hero, B. Bunny, would put it, "Of course you know, this means war."
there's a reason why i think Randy Milholland is The Shit, even though i probably wouldn't want to hang with him in real life ('why' is a long, convoluted and ultimately stupid story)... i like the way the man thinks:
or here, if the embed doesn't work:
http://www.superstupor.com/sust12292008.shtm
The best of all that life offers, now and forever, to each and every one of you.
Here's hoping our New Year is better than the last.
I thank all of you for your patience and continued support.
Jim
and it's sound is like Jell-O on toast!
"The Day The Earth Stood Still" in theaters - This film pretty much just laid there and went 'bleh'. That's my review in a nutshell.
Now for specifics... the problem wasn't Keanu, Jennifer, Jaden, Kathy or any of the rest of the fine cast... it wasn't the special effects, although some reviewers seem to find them inadequate (i thought they were fine). The problem wasn't really the concept... I thought updating from the worldwide crisis we were facing when the original was made to our newest one was a fine thing to do.
The problem was the writing. In places it sucked rotted ass, in places it was merely bad, but for the most part, it just lay there, not really moving, quiescent and lackluster. And at the end of the day, for me, that's what killed this film.
"The Machine Girl" on DVD - when you want blood & gore up to your ballsack, grate- grutooitu- needless violence on ever'thin' an' ever'body, you use ta be able to count on Amurrican B-and-lower-movies to fill your cup till it runned over if you know what I mean an' I think you do. Now, like everthin' else that we used ta be the best at, the goddamn Japanese have done taken the lead.
This here film's got a plot, but it's real simple... think Dubya lobatamized. Orphaned brother and sister, brother gets in trouble with spoiled Yakuza brat and his buddies, ends up dead, she goes out for revenge and eventually gets it.
But the devil's in the puddin', or somethin' like that... proof in the details... yeah, that's it.
There's multiple ass-whuppin's, attempted rape, tempura-fried-hand, severed-head-soup, fresh-finger-sushi, implied necrophila, hammerin'-nails-in-face torture, badass bitch arm wrasslin', human-shield-urine-sprayin', psycho-cult-religious-type-fervor, totally batshit Japanese housewives, red-jogging-suited-ninjas, and totally-over-the-fuckin'-top-Yakuza, family style, an' that style is animal prints.
We got your pipe-fu, hand-scythe-fu, thigh-fu, flying-guillotine-fu, severed-arm-fu, rice-cake-fu-catfight, a metric-fuck-ton of fancy-schmancy Shuriken-fu, Much Chain-Gun-Fu, Steel-Drill-Bra-Fu, CHAINSAW-FU (and in a grata- gratuti- needless 'Army of Darkness/Planet Terror' tribute, Chainsaw-on-a-Leg-Stump-Fu).
There's more than a few hints o' lesbianism, school girl an' otherwise, an' our star, Minase Yashiro is real damn cute and spends most of the film in a Japanese schoolgirl outfit.
The special effects are purty laughable, for tha most part, makes it real hard to take any o' this serious. There's more high pressure blood sprayed in this film than's in the bodies o' ever'body in Japan. There's bad hiding of a supposedly amputated arm (although tha actress' arm spends most o' the film in tha chaingun thingamahootchy) and tha dubbed dialogue is even more laughable than tha effects, with some good an' long pontificatin' thrown into a couple o' scenes.
We got no beasts an' no breasts, leastways, none out on display, but some purty bra shots.
J.R. gives it a six (if'n ya can appreciate this kinda film) an' says check it out! (With apologies to the Master, Joe Bob Briggs)
"Grand Theft Auto IV" on XBox 360 - okay, I started out liking this game a lot, and there are parts of it I still treasure (Brucie Rules!) but then I played 'Saints Row 2' and this game just paled in comparison. But still, I was going to finish it, going to see it though to the end, after having spent all that money on it, until I got to a mission that just continued to kill me and the Prima Game Guide, as well as online sources, could offer no more help than 'keep trying'. My frustration level hit a point where I really wanted to play 'HammerHammerSmashSmash' with the game disc, so I said 'Fuck It', and declared myself finished with GTA IV. Went online to read how the damn game ends and found out that either one of the endings you get, I would've been fuckin' furious at the way the main character got screwed, so it's a real good thing I didn't take the time to finish it... because this way the disc stays intact and maybe I can sell it somewhere. Strong and poignant storytelling isn't really a GTA series strength, and if I want a reminder that life isn't fair and things are fucked up all over, I can look at real life. Really, if you enjoy this kind of open-world/sandbox type game, I unreservedly recommend "Saints Row 2". GTA IV has downloadable content coming soon and as far as I'm concerned, they can fuckin' blow me. I'm going to have to hear Very Good things, storywise, about any future GTA's in order for me to give a shit.
"Far Cry 2" on XBox 360 - And then there's this game... everyone involved in the creation process for this should be able to receive absolutely mind-pummeling sex anytime they want for the rest of their lives. An open-world/sandbox First Person Shooter set in a small African nation that's slowly going to hell as factions fight for control of what little there is left. You play a mercenary sent to kill the Jackal, an arms dealer who's responsible for arming both sides in this conflict, as well as many others. Of course, things don't go smoothly, but that's fine. Everything in this game is geared to keep your head in the reality of the game. There is no radar showing you where your enemies are, you have to look and more importantly listen (although when you're hit there is a flash telling you which general direction the hit came from). Need to get somewhere? You pull out your map and look at it. The vehicle you're driving gets damaged? You pull out your socket wrench and fix it (rather rudimentary, but it makes the attempt to keep it real). Weapons get dirty with use, they jam (there's no greater 'aw shit' than to be in a firefight and have to spend time hammering on your rifle with your fist, trying to clear it as everyone tries to make swiss cheese out of you) and it behooves you to buy better firearms than to use the ones you find lying around. All the weapons are real-world, there is nothing fanciful or imaginary (with the exception of eight golden AK-47's hidden at various points on the maps... and their thing, other than their shiny pretty color, is that they're more accurate and reliable, but still not BFG's). I almost, 'almost' mind you, wish for the reality of fighting child soldiers... but that would be a little too real and a lot too depressing. The country is beautiful, except where it's polluted and ugly, there's no chance of killing civilians, as everyone you face is out to get you (not too realistic, but karmically helpful). You have friends who can help you out when a mission eats your lunch, as well as provide missions for you. I CANNOT say enough good things about 'Far Cry 2'. This game is a joy to play, a joy to look at, a joy to explore. HappyHappyHappyJoyJoyJoy!
"The Dark Knight" on DVD - wow, this film doesn't get any less bleak or emotionally-violent the second time around (yeah, the PG-13 rating gave me the giggles). And seeing it again brings the loss of Heath Ledger back to the forefront of my mind. Here's hoping for the posthumous Oscar he deserves.
Of course, I still make the argument that Bats' "no kill" rule be damned, sometimes being the Hero means doing the things no one else can do... like letting the Joker fall to his death. Some dogs are just too mad to let live. We even have precedent in the first film. "I won't kill you, but I don't have to save you" or words to that effect.
Some Holiday Humor, courtesy of author John Scalzi:
http://whatever.scalzi.com/2004/12/01/the-10-least-successful-holiday-specials-of-all-time/
:: walks away, still giggling ::
Proof that there are still reasons to love Metallica:
or in case the embed doesn't work:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h7wV4VQ1_iQ&eurl=http://io9.com/5105126/metallica-remakes-thriller-video-with-soviet-war-zombies&feature=player_embedded
I'm not seeing all that many similarities to 'Thriller' meself, but it has been ManyMany years since I last saw it.
All in all, a teasing glimpse of an alternate history that could be damned interesting... if you like zombies and killer robots.
Said I was expecting it, fucking sucks to be right. Bettie Page, dead at 85:
http://www.latimes.com/news/printedition/california/la-me-page12-2008dec12,0,6058175.story
In personal news, the birthday of my Beloved is coming up, a week from this Sunday, on the 21st. This weekend we'll be seeing Keanu's latest on Saturday as she's handbelling & related activities through a big chunk o' Sunday, our normal day to go worship at the Alamo Drafthouse. See Mr. Lee this afternoon and possibly Sunday afternoon as well. I hope to finish up the Yahoo Group's Christmas story next week, maybe have enough time to have some folks look at it afore I post it, but being me, I wouldn't bet anything I'd mind losing that I'll be that efficient.
Forrest J. Ackerman, dead at 92:
To paraphrase author John Scalzi, science fiction and horror fans do not need to be told who he was. Everyone else, go here:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/28073967/
I grew up reading, and re-reading, and re-reading yet again (ad infinitum, ad nauseum) 'Famous Monsters of Filmland' magazine. It gave me my first inkling that there were people out in the world who shared these odd interests of mine. It introduced me to to films, and to a lesser degree books, that I'd never heard of and grew to cherish.
I had the privilege of meeting him at a convention, an Archon in St. Louis, and was able to let him know what he and his work had meant to me. As I thanked him, and tried not to devolve into too much of a burbling fanboy, he was gracious and still enthusiastic about fandom and fans. He never lost his sense of wonder or his joy in trading stories and experiences with his fellow fans.
About two months ago upon hearing of his failing health, I and many others took our last chance to tell him thanks, send him our love and say goodbye via email. The world is a poorer place without him in it.
Bettie Page going from pneumonia to heart attack and apparently to coma:
http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5jZUqEZI68r9LHs45IyvnFNrflxowD94SVL800
I'm afraid it won't be long before we're saying good-bye to Ms. Page as well. Upon receiving this news, I went back over my collection of Bettie Page photos and art, and try as I might, I still can't articulate what, for me, makes her the greatest pin-up queen ever. But while I can't define 'it', she definitely had 'it' in abundance. Her career as a model will always remain proof positive in my mind that there is a Deity who loves us and wants us to be happy. I wish her well, a fast and speedy recovery, and many more years of (hopefully) happy life.
And a funeral light years removed from the last one I attended, the memorial service for Carl Eugene Trussel.
The minister and laypeople taking part in the service knew Gene (one of them was Sonny, his partner/husband/wife/significant other for nineteen years) and while not a lot of the actual service was speaking of Gene, we could tell that these men knew him, cared about him... it was evident throughout. And yes, while the service was religious (he and Sonny were evidently members of the American Independent Catholic Church) it was not a thinly veiled recruitment drive. All the scripture and prayer was focused on death, resurrection and comforting those left behind. Afterwards we sat and told 'Gene stories' and after that, nine of us (including the minister, Sonny and the other layperson, Harry) went out to lunch at Hoovers. It was a positive experience, a celebration in an odd way, and the kind of funeral/memorial that makes you glad you were there to pay your respects and say good-bye. It felt throughout as if Gene was there with us, and that was very good to feel.