Wednesday, May 31, 2006

Found Magazine Show at Krypto lounge

FOUND MAGAZINE is coming to town.
June 1:
PHO at 9
Filmstrips at 10
Found Magazine at 11pm (60 minute show)

Bring the things you found!

Read about it in the RR Star:

See you there, Rib meats.

Paul Harvey Oswald now has a MySpace.

Monday, May 22, 2006

Mickey D (“D” stands for Dharma)

For the most part, I love our global economy / culture. To think of the days where a trip to get an exotic spice like saffron was a deadly, Homeric feat and not just a trip to the local Highlander.

Of course, that journey can be dangerous too, if you’re driving my car. (I don’t know why you’d be driving my car, unless you are the dick who stole it a while back.)

It goes without saying (so I’ll say) that this isn’t a unilateral thing: American influence is running rampantly all over the world. Ah the delicious irony of seeing a jovial Middle Eastern guy saying, “Death to America!” as he’s wearing a Pepsi shirt.

So naturally, I wasn’t surprised when I heard McDonalds was opening a joint in India. Then the obvious equation of Beef Patties + India = rioting in the streets. I’m not as versed in Hinduism as perhaps I could be, I admit. I believe in it every bit as none as I believe in Christianity. But from what I gather moo-cow parts would be tantamount to serving McJesus Burgers, or Mother Marry McNuggets. And how about the Shroud of Turin as a napkin?

It’s nothing for an American company to retool to meet with the cultural zeitgeist of another country. I was sitting around with a friend from Ecuador and a friend from Japan and Pizza Hut came up. My Ecuadorian friend said his favorite Pizza Hut pizza back home was Corn, and my Japanese friend said his was Curry Lamb. And I thought I was getting loony by ordering a Taco Pizza every awhile and once.

But McDonalds? Talk about a fundamental disparity. That would almost be like Ms. magazine trying to repackage themselves for the former Taliban-occupied Afghanistan.

But what of Mayor McCheese? He IS a hamburger. Will he be barred from entering the fair country of India? Will he be detained at customs? Will special doggies, trained to sniff out cow meats instead of drugs be “sicked” on him? Will his swishy, effeminate cousin, Alderman McBocaBurger be allowed to go in his stead? Conversely will the Hamburgler be exalted as folk hero instead of villain for robbing us of our ill-begotten sacrilegious meat? What will become of their Big Mac anthem? (“Two all beef patties, special sauce…”) All good questions. But why did they replace Ronald with this:

(photo courtesy of Boing Boing)

Clowns = evil. Baby Clowns = Satan incarnate. More freaksome than that nightmarish baby in the sun on Teletubbies.

Money making wise, every thing McDonalds touches turns to gold…like those arches, and that’s just for instance. I guess time will tell. Can you say, “Euro-Disney?”

Thursday, May 18, 2006

Snakes on a Plane!

That’s what I titled this here post. I was going to call it something else, but I think the non-punch-pully, on-the-nose, almost childishly precise title fits a blog that plans addressing a movie called…wait for it… Snakes on a Plane. This blog, my friends, is eponymous.

I was tempted to call it “Snakes on a Plain,” but that type of purely visual pun is a little beneath us, no? And it comes off a soupçon judgy. To be fair, and open minded, I will wait to see the movie to call it a smoldering piece of dog squeeze.

To be clear, I would be remiss if I didn’t point out that by “Plane” we are talking about the flying apparatus that uses a non-uniform cross sectioned wing to “fly.” I should further point out that snakes on this kind of plane = not normal. Snakes on a plane, as in a verdant, flat piece of prairie, for instance, that is normal. Though it can still freak your shit out if you stumble on them. It’s just that you merely have the one phobia (this being snakes namely) to deal with, and not the hat trick of fear of flight (or falling I suppose) and claustrophobia added. I said “hat trick.” That’s the phrase I was looking for right? I used that right, right? Why do I make sports analogies? I hate sports. I was going to go with “Tri-fecta,” but that’s sports too. I should stop that. I’m going to misuse one real soon. You can only roll them bones so many times before they come up snake eyes. If I remembered if it was Aristotle or Plato who mentioned the rule of three, I would have…

Oh my god. I’m still going on about that. Back to the important sutff.

We have Snakes and we got Planes, and said snakes…you’ll never guess where they are. Dude! I’m totally talking about on the plane!

Or I guess we are. I mean, I haven’t seen it (it’s not out yet), but what else can it be? That’s what makes it a teeny bit charming. What a weirdly precise title for a movie! Maybe the gimmick is that it is about neither snakes nor planes…or maybehaps it’s about one but not both. If this is a quiet little arthouse flick, I will be a little surprised, but why not? If this is in fact a tender, coming of age chick flick…that would be damn novel. To wit: Fried Green Tomatoes ehhhhhhh, not really about fried green tomatoes. So maybe Snakes, as pundits are calling with an utter lack of deference to the plane aspect, is not in fact a big dumb action movie.

‘Cause, calling it what probably should be the big AHA!, the big reveal, the big moment of suspense is almost as stupid as Saw pretty much telling you in the previews the saw can cut through your leg but not the chain. Or that one movie that just came out on DVD…something-“Stranger.” Right in the preview we hear the guy on the babysitter’s phone saying,

“We traced the call; it’s in your house!”

I almost waited for the next line to be,

“Like in that other horror movie. I think it was Scream! That would be cool before cell phones were a thing. Wait I’ll check the IMDB to see if it was Scream. Oh, and you should probably get out of the house! Cause the phone call is coming from inside your house! I hope they don’t ruin this surprise by putting it in the preview!”

If the title wasn’t so dead on, it could go a little something like this:


The music falls away and the Plane is deadly silent. Strange moonlight flits in the beige interior, but moody, malevolent pools of shadow (that could possibly contain lurking snakes -- if we wanted them too) generously dot the cabin. The PASSENGERS stare, some huddled under those DUMB BLANKETS that are not quite big enough to cover an adult. We hear (O.C.) the in-flight movie...a straight to DVD number directed by the same NIMROD who directed this PIECE OF SHIT.

Samuel L. Jackson's Character is making out with Juliana Marguilies's Character.


Ooooo, Samuel. You're so gifted, even for an African American.


Bitch. What you talking about? I ain't even touched you yet.


Well if it's not you, who -- or what -- could it be?

The music swells and suddenly, it cuts out.


There is a wiggling under her not quite adult sized blanket in the crotchular region. Then it stops. Almost as if... a snake withdrew...


It's gone.


Samuel bolts up.

Do you motherfuckers hear that? I hear something and I don't know what it motherfucking is.

He walks through the isles, head cocked shrewdly.

There’s something evil on the mother fucking plane, but I’ll be damned if I know what it is. It's almost as if...No...That can't be.

The camera shakes and pitches (because we can’t afford gimbals to move the plane). Warning klaxons blare. The plane goes into a dive and instead of Oxygen masks dropping from the overhead compartment: SNAKES. Digitally rendered snakes. Rubber won’t do. The crowd panics no small amount.

Snakes! On the Motherfucking Plane!

But, it is exactly that dead on. Dead dead on. Could you just die? Absurd much? Here’s the analogy I came up with:

What if The Empire Strikes Back was called Darth Vader is Luke’s Father?

Lucas: Stupid enough to make Jar Jar a part of cinema history by converting millions of dollars into zeroes and ones and pissing everyone off; not stupid enough to call Empire that.

After all this speculation, confession time: I may not actually see the movie. Isn’t that a funny quirk? I just get distracted real easy. Like there was this dog with a really puffy tail, and: hours lost. So, I probably will forget to see this snake-themed actioner.

What I will do, however, is use “Snakes in a Plane” in my vocabulary. I haven’t decided whether it will represent something horrifically, out of control and bad, or as in so many pop culture sayings I could turn the neg into a pos. Like crazy, not really a good thing. Nor Wicked, Sick, not even off the hook. And I’ve never seen something that really embodied gnarly that I thought was of quality. So “That is SOOOO Snakes in a Plane.” May be good, or the other thing. Let context and your heart be your guide.

Samuel L. Jackson IS Snakes on a Plane. I love Samuel L. Jackson; when he’s on, he’s on! But does this guy ever turn down a script?

Epilogue: Word corrected me. I typed “mother” and “fucker” as two separate words and it informed me they should be one. I don’t know how I feel about that.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

I woke up to birds…


Yep. As I looked out my window this AM, I saw two cute birdies…and they proceeded to bump…feathers right there on my deck railing. And it was not just procreation, the-species-must-prevail type stuff, but downright sadomasochistic looking birdy-bondage, angry sex.

It was over quick, but in the little guy’s defense he did it over and over and over and over, and for instance: over.

That is one helluva way to wake up. It puts a surreal spin on the rest of your day.

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