“She calls me a liar ’cause I wear a Jason mask” - “Cumbersome”, 7 Mary 3
“Man-eating Orcas forgive no one just yet” - “Heart Shaped Box”, Nirvana
“*schizophrenic homeless person ranting about overthrowing the government*…Here and now, here and now…”- “Hear and Now”, Letters to Cleo
real lyrics omitted because they aren’t very good and I don’t feel like looking them up.
http://www.wpbf.com/video/16030876/index.html
Also includes the wonderful phrase, “Investment Lane and Consumer Drive.”
Hollywood Video on Saxon Blvd., RIP, it was good while it lasted. The only other times I ever set foot in the place prior to Friday night was delivering pizzas years ago. Well, Jon and I got wind of a closeout sale going on, and thusly figured it might be worth checking out. And was it ever!! 90% off everything left in the store…I walked away with 12 DVDs for eleven dollars and seventy-seven cents. Included in the pile were a handful of really classic arthouse films, the first season of Lucky Louie, some other stuff, and this Tolkien “documentary”. I mean, look at this cover art, how could I pass this up at 99 cents?
I’ll get this out of the way right now- I’ve never read, watched, or listened to any variant of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Still, I’ve managed to develop a range of emotions, varying from passing disinterest to seething disgust, for these books. Those that get super-pumped and dress the part for film premiers or book signings are on a level of fanaticism on par with Star Trek dorks, yet somehow seeming a little more pitiful. At least Star Trek had a primetime slot.
It should then come as no surprise that I purchased this DVD hoping it would be a documentary similar to Trekkies, poking fun at those who feel such strong attachments to hobbits and orcs or whatever. Unfortunately for Jon and I, this was not the case. What it is, though, is a notably disjointed history of the author, his work, and what has become the kingdom of “Ringers”- the aforementioned goofs who take this stuff seriously. In between the narrated bits telling the story are both interviews with some low-rent celebrities and D-grade Monty Python-esque animation. OK, well the part where they’re interviewing Lemmy and they have to subtitle him because he’s not anywhere near coherent was unintentionally funny.
Then they go into this part about how hippies were way into Lord of the Rings and how Lord of the Rings helped to invent rock and roll. WOAH. I’m not doubting that hippies read books, and sure, dragons and people wearing capes probably go real well with acid. But I never heard of these books causing any hippie to do anything productive as inventing a musical genre; maybe pot brownies or something, I can buy that. There was some other garbage thrown in about Zeppelin and Rush, and I think they interviewed Geddy Lee because I recall thinking about that Pavement song- dude does have a pretty regular speaking voice.
At some point not long after this, they clearly are going to end the movie, starting to interview some people waiting in line for movie openings and people who make their own Frodo figurines and stuff- AWESOME. This is why I’m here. But yeah right, guess what? Nope, then they go back to talking about how these damn books shaped spirituality. This is the point where I tapped out and fell asleep. Laughing AT the movie wasn’t even fun anymore. I mean, laughing at PEOPLE would’ve been interesting, but I couldn’t care less about some fantasy novels. I guess Jon couldn’t deal with it much longer either (or more likely couldn’t deal with my bellowing snores) because he shut it off like 10 minutes later, woke me up, and told me he was going home.
So my review? If someone paypals me $2, I will mail them this DVD. I’ll even set it on fire and burn out on it with my car on request. Is it too much for me to ask to laugh at people who don’t deserve to be laughed at? I guess that’s why I have the freedom to make my own documentaries. So be on the lookout for that.
Well, I’m out, Groundhog Day is on television.
For some reason, people seem to think that you can’t run from your problems. I offer the following evidence to the contrary.
1. People really liked to play softball in the mid-80’s (that’s the opening sentence to my novel if I ever write one). Occasionally I would walk down the street to the park to watch the games. One day, I was watching from behind the fence when a foul ball rolled through a hole in the fence and landed by my feet. “Hey kid, throw the ball back,” the players yelled. For some reason, instead of throwing it back, I picked it up and ran. The shouting continued. Why did I do this? I didn’t even want or need a softball. But no one chased me so I just ran all the way home.
2. When I was in 4th or 5th grade, there was this gigantic kid in my class who was from Jordan. I forget his name. Anyway, I didn’t really like him. But one day, he offered to sell me an elusive green Warhead candy for $1. Warheads were just getting popular and no one had ever seen a green one - I believe the common flavors were red and yellow. So $1 was a steep price, but it was worth it. The deal would go down after lunch, at recess. I find him, give him the money, and he proceeds to eat the Warhead and laugh. Enraged, I connect with the weakest left hook in the history of humanity. He just stands there, shocked. I’m also shocked, but I take off running back to my classroom where my teacher is eating lunch and pretend to look for something until class starts. A few weeks later the kid moved before he had a chance to pummel me.
3. The local grocery store (Food Town, which I always thought was a funny name) had one of those machines that recycled soda cans and gave you change. I never made much money but I enjoyed watching/hearing the cans get crushed. Anyway, one boring summer day my friend and I collected an entire garbage bag full of cans to bring in (one of the perks of living in the New York City metropolitan area was that there was always a lot of trash around). The machine was out of order, so we were stuck with all of these cans. Somehow, the logical conclusion we arrived at was to go to the park and throw the cans at cars that were driving by. I scored a direct hit (I still remember, it was a can of Grape Crush) on a car. I was pretty happy until I noticed it was a cop car. He slammed on his brakes and we took off running (in opposite directions, brilliant). I hid in someone’s shed for a few hours and was never caught.
4. One day I decided to run away from home. I was pretty lazy so I didn’t go far, but I managed to be gone for a decent amount of time, like 7 or 8 hours. I got really hot and went inside the local Rite-Aid to cool off. There I saw a Football magazine that had a Keyshawn Johnson rookie card inside the shrink wrap. I really wanted it, but for some reason I decided that money wasn’t necessary to bring along when I started my new life away from my family. So naturally, I had to steal the card. I remember justifying this to myself by saying that I had purchased wrestling magazines from this pharmacy, so stealing a card was okay. I ripped the plastic wrap, put the card in my pocket, and walked out. As soon as I hit the sidewalk I panicked and took off running. Forgetting that I had run away from home, I ran back to my house and was promptly punished upon my arrival for making my mom worry. I still have the card, though.
5. I was obsessed with baseball brawls when I was a kid (and honestly, I still am a little). I always thought baseball was the most dignified of the major sports, so a brawl was a rare occurrence that should be appreciated. Anyway, my family and I went over to my grandfather’s brother’s (not sure what my relation is here) house for a cookout at the end of summer. Some distant relatives that I didn’t really know invited me to play wiffle ball in the back yard. I got a few good hits. I came up to bat, and the pitch went somewhat out of control (as wiffle balls tend to do) and hit me. Of course, this didn’t hurt - it was a plastic ball thrown by like a 9 year old. However, I decided to imitate a baseball brawl and charge the mound. The kid had no idea what was going on, so he just punched me and I tackled him. He started crying so I took off running around the house and down the street. I came back about 15 minutes later and my mom told me that no one could find the kid. Eventually they found him in the garage eating like 3 boxes of cereal. I somehow never got in trouble for this. Recently, my grandfather told me the kid has a couple of DUI’s.
Someone found our blog by searching for “american history people botsy ross.”
Man rides fish, taunts nature.
Man creates robot dinosaur, tempts fate.
Alpaca lays sick hit on kid. Nature’s revenge.
Snake takes flight. Thousands killed.
My face replaced by Lego pumpkin. Nature’s puzzling political statement.
Chiklis, Vorhees star in highly successful sequel. Nature reconsiders.
Pizza in a cone: truce.
Only true patriots will get into heaven.
Since neither you or I can afford to go to the exhibit, here’s some art that I put together in the same style as Norman Rockwell.
Guess what? It’s a skull that’s on fire. It’s probably Japanese, too, due to the broken English used in the banner. Or maybe I didn’t have enough room to write properly. Still, pretty brutal huh? This one represents man’s insistence on doing dumb things while listening to thrash metal, as seen in “Airheads”.
While supposed to be a chocolate covered cherry that was vomited up whole, it also sort of looks like a 1950’s cartoon bomb sitting on a piece of stained glass. It represents man’s fascination with Spy vs. Spy and Valentine’s Day.
I’ll agree, kind of a trite piece of art, but this bologna sandwich on wheat bread represents mankind’s fascination with watching other people’s misery (as evidenced by “To Catch a Predator”, “America’s Funniest Videos”, and “Cops”). If you are at a point in life where you value a bologna sandwich, it is time to reevaluate your diet and existence. That stuff’s gross, dude.
A harsh critique of the Cold War, this painting finds Florida’s Skunk Ape being hunted by a Soviet missile. They tried to take our freedom- and a little known fact is that they tried to take our mythology. Fuck you, Khrushchev. Yeah I googled that name, bet you couldn’t remember how to spell it either.
From mlb.com:
Because I didn’t until just now. I vaguely remembering singing that in front of my parents at some 1st grade function, minus the racially slanted vernacular and possibly dressed as a pilgrim. Maybe it’s for the best that they’re changing that one.
Vote Nader/Pizza in ‘08, FTW.
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OR 
Either is acceptable. The choice is ours.
