31 July, 2009

When You Walk Through the Garden

You gotta watch your back
Well I beg your pardon
Walk the straight and narrow track
If you walk with Jesus
He's gonna save your soul
You gotta keep the devil
Way down in the hole
He's got the fire and the fury
At his command
Well you don't have to worry
If you hold on to Jesus hand
We'll all be safe from Satan
When the thunder rolls
Just gotta help me keep the devil
Way down in the hole
All the angels sing about Jesus' mighty sword
And they'll shield you with their wings
And keep you close to the lord
Don't pay heed to temptation
For his hands are so cold
You gotta help me keep the devil
Way down in the hole

(Words by Tom Waits)

The Greatest Movies Ever Made

Roger Ebert talks about the greatest movies ever made and what he thinks these lists mean. As always, he's worth checking out.

But to quibble with specific titles, as I said, is a waste of time. We look at these lists for what we find on them, not what we don't find. That's why my Great Movies have never been a ranking, but a Collection, assembled in no particular order.

Now, with no further ado: Some actual substance, instead of just quoting people smarter than I am. Here's what I believe to be the ten greatest movies ever made (in no particular order and with no attempt at justification).

1. Terminator 2
2. The Big Lebowski
3. The Seven Samurai
4. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly
5. Alien
6. The Thin Red Line
7. Blade Runner
8. Apocalypse Now
9. Rushmore
10. 12 Monkeys

I'm pretty happy with that list for now.

In other news: Apparently the Alien prequel is official. . . I think I can live with that. Just as long as they don't fuck it up like they did Terminator. "They" being "useless, film-blind assholes." I'll wait until something more substantial finds its way to the surface before I turn on this project like a rattlesnake.

Watching Unforgiven

Yeah, so I'm watching Unforgiven right now, so I figured it'd be appropriate to post something relating to the West (because the West is awesome).

To me Indians in Westerns have almost always been kind of goofy. There's a good reason for that and they're goofy for the same reason that any other race or whatever has been strange looking in art, it's because it's usually made by people who aren't from that group. It gets even worse when I'm watching Italian Westerns. I don't know, whatever.

Anyways it's a shame paintings like this are supposed to be racist now. Society sucks.

I found this one looking for a particular painting that my dad used to own by one A.D. Cooper, but I can't for the life of me find a picture of it online. It was of bunch of buffalo standing around a dead Indian on a field of snow. I remember it being pretty good.

30 July, 2009

The Hurt Locker

I realize that I've put completing this review off for far too long. So, sorry about that. Luckily, I think the movie just got a wider release last week, so maybe it more appropriate now to talk about than when I saw it (but probably not, that's just me rationalizing). The reflection on my work ethic is the source of my shame, but the main reason I should be apologizing is that The Hurt Locker is really worth seeing and people-- all two of you reading this-- should make sure that you do (see it).

The film stars Jeremy Renner (who was also an American soldier in 28 Weeks Later and one of the cowboys who can't shoot worth a fart in a high wind in The Assassination of Et Al.) as William James, a detached, almost sociopathic bomb defuser, as well as Anthony Mackie, who is the Murtaugh to James' Riggs. Rounding off the trio is Brian Gerghety as Eldridge, the youngest looking out of any of them and probably the most rattled of the three of the things he's seen and done in Iraq.

The movie also has a solid stream of cameos that range from "that one bad guy in all of those films" to He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named (who is absent from just about every piece of advertisement I've seen in this film). Besides Evangeline Lilly (the pretty brunette who cries too much on Lost), Guy Pierce (which is the first argument I have of many that lead me to believe this movie was directly influenced by The Proposition), David Morse (you'll know him when you see him), it also has a cameo from Ralph Fiennes, which is the least impressive of any of the smaller roles in this film because he seems to disappear about as quickly as he appeared in the first place (possibly to go put some pants on that kid from Equus).

What might be most impressive about the film is its complete lack of moralization about anything these men deal with. There's nothing about politics or our need (or lack thereof) to be there, it is simply these three men doing their job and trying to get out of this miserable, bomb-infested hellhole in one piece. I think this is probably why the reviews for this film have not only been positive, but enthusiastic. Katheryn Bigelow made a movie about the Iraq War and it's really enjoyable, people should know about this. As much as we all enjoy Paul Haggis or Robert Redford telling us what the Iraq War is really about, The Hurt Locker is more concerned about telling a story than making a point. Now that Bush is gone maybe that chip on the shoulder has been blown off.

Besides, if we wanted a lesson we'd watch a documentary (just probably not Gunner Palace, which is not as good as the trailer might lead you to believe). We keep Errol Morris locked in that bomb-proof editing bay three-hundred feet beneath the surface for a reason.

My hyperbole glands tend to swell up whenever I get near the hype for a movie (just look at that fucking poster up top). For this film in particular, I've had to have them squeezed twice daily just so I can get up and move around. The one thing about hype is that it is never quite as good as the product. And, of course, The Hurt Locker isn't. Odds are with the expanded number of Best Picture nominations, it'll get a nod. It probably won't win, but I suppose it does deserve to get nominated, it just shouldn't win. On the hype: This film deserves most of the flattery going its way. It's a solidly built action movie that, while afflicted with a few too many action cliches, also manages to avoid most of the pitfalls of lesser ones. So despite all of the momentum behind it and how distasteful I find that stuff, I still managed to be impressed.

One quick note: The movie does have an inordinate and intolerable amount of nu-metal-- That is to say, any nu-metal. But, rest assured, the excerpts are quick and prove a point and before you know it, the movie is back to being about bombs and sociopaths, like it should be. Maybe including this terrible music, in a weird way, was Bigelow's way of inflicting a little bit of the Iraq War on her audience. I'll buy that theory.

Check out this trailer and try to not want to see this movie.

On a side note, I fucking hate it when dicks on You Tube insert themselves into other people's videos. Shit is uncouth.

Something to Look Forward To

Even though I got burnt by Burn After Reading and while I'd much rather watch their "cut-off eyelid" and "fire ant torture" western, I suppose can still get excited about this one. It is the Coen Brothers we're talking about.

Seriously, I want my fucking True Grit remake. Now. And my Blood Meridian adaptation-- I don't care if Tim Burton has to do it-- I want to see blood and I want my scalpings and I want them eighty feet wide!

I don't think that's entirely beyond the realm of expectations!

Going Over the Top

Attack planes fly overhead during an attack.

Welcome to Siberia #5

Where this guy is only thirty-seven.

29 July, 2009

This'll Do

You've seen and you'ved loved Three Wolf Moon shirt and now get ready to love Three Keyboard Cat Moon Shirt.

You're welcome.

(Obtained through nefarious means via Cute Overload)

One More Thing I Shouldn't Be Proud Of

I am proud of my OK Cupid account.


Lone Wolf and Cub


Yeah, Ogami Itto doesn't fuck around.

28 July, 2009

Howdy, Mr. Eastwood

I, uh-- Oh God, what'd I do? Whatever it is I'm sorry. Stop staring.

Now That's Style

It's 9AM, do you know where your bubble encased fashion model is?

There's a The Prisoner joke in here, but I'm not the man to make it.

Well That's Fun

. . . And let's go ahead and add Branded to Kill and Tokyo Drifter to the list of things I need to re-watch.

I don't think this image is from either of those, but it should be.

27 July, 2009

Taxi Driver Reference

I aught to watch Taxi Driver again one of these days. . . right after I do the eight million other things I'm supposed to be doing.

You park like an asshole

You heard it here first.

The Human Being is an Awful Thing

More news to ruin your day.

I think you can probably judge a culture on how they treat their most vulnerable members. In this case, I think we can come down pretty harshly on-- at the very least-- these parents for abandoning their child for being raped. That's right, they disowned their child because she was victimized by other people.

Great job there. Great call. I'm sure you thought this world reflect wonderfully upon you and your upbringing.

Things like this are profoundly upsetting, not just because they're horrific events individually, but because things like this happen all over the world. For example: Honor killings. Basically, if a female member of a family is sexually assaulted or even has a relationship outside of her family's approval, another member of her family is supposed to murder her in order to regain his family's

I am fairly certain in my belief that "honor" is a term that more machismo-soaked cowards hold tightly to than not.
"Why'd you kill a rape victim?"
"Because my honor was at stake-- Or my respect or reputation or whatever. You know. . . ah, you wouldn't get it."


I understand that people when they come to this country bring their culture with them-- and that's fine when you're talking about who shows up to your weekly potluck or your favorite board game or your preference of lamb over pork or whatever else-- but when it comes to things like this and female genital mutilation, I think it is safe to say that some things need to be left back home. Or, you know, don't treat rape victims as though its their fault, especially when they're children, goddamnit.

It's times like this that my liberal upbringing didn't prevent me from judging people severely.

I need to go play some Call of Duty to work this knot out of my system. . .

In other, less terrible news, Ireland outlaws blasphemy. What? Huh? Really? You didn't have actual law to legislate?

Do you know Mark Kermode?

Because, maybe you should.

Mark Kermode is an English film critic who works for the BBC. He's a snarky, anarcho-syndicalist, smartass who uses lots of terms such as "proper cinema," "the death of narrative cinema," and my favorite (and possibly everyone's favorite) "Everyone involved should be thoroughly ashamed of themselves." He's also one of my favorite critics and probably one of the most accessible ones (in terms of listening to him, something that is free and can do at just about any time).

He was also the critic who was interviewing Herzog when he got shot. Incidentally, Mr. Herzog will be at Book Soup on the 1st of August. I'll be there with bells on, you should too (but maybe not with the bells, it'd be weird if that many of us showed up like that).

And for reference, here's his somewhat legendary (which really isn't legendary, then) Pirates of the Caribbean 3 rant.

Ah, that does me good.

26 July, 2009

The Past

. . .Where the Future used to be way cooler.

Cars look like some bullshit nowadays. No wonder all of these companies are broke. Who wants to buy American if they cost more, perform less well, and are as ugly as anything else? Captain America, possibly.

Fencing: A Gentleman's Sport

Fencing was one of those things I wish I had gotten into. But now it's too late. I'm all old and washed up and doomed by all the poor choices I made-- Just like my dad!

Oh well, bonus fencing photo:

Check out the legs on the gal sitting down. That chick is keeping it real.

Oh I get it, "Les Dames." Good one, paperback writer. Good one.

25 July, 2009

Welcome to Siberia #4

This guy has gone platinum in Siberia, but that's only because that's about 3% of his blood content.

Here's a Fun One

"Apotheosis of War" by Vasily Vereshchagin

I remember reading this story about a rebellion in Afghanistan sometime in the 18th century (it must have been, I feel like) where after the Amir put down the opposing army, he had hundreds or thousands of his enemies decapitated and stacked in a pyramid with the rebel leader buried alive inside.

I can't source this story and it might turn out not ever to be true, but it just sounds right to me.

Oh, now I remember, I think it was mentioned in Time Magazine.

I other news, I think I found my band's album cover.

This is the Face of a Codger

An Afghani codger, to be exact.

I'm fairly certain that this image was taken in Kabul, but I'm probably wrong and only saying this in an attempt to figure out who, what, and where this photo was taken. What I am certain about is that this probably wasn't taken in the 1980's. Of this I can be certain.

Also part of me kind of wants that handbag-- er, messenger bag.

24 July, 2009

Why Everything Sucks

Keep it up Craig. (May I touch your hair, sir?)

(Found on The Constant Siege)

This is Why I Don't Read Anymore

This article is awful. I don't even think they've ever met one of us. Take in this lovely quote for a moment:

“Millennials see the world before Sept. 11 as a period of innocence. Our biggest worry was the Y2K bug. That all seems a world away now.”

We're nostalgic for the 1990's why, exactly? Do we really miss not being able to drink, drive, have sex, get jobs, or stay up past ten? Or do you miss taking pre-algebra and Sherry O'Terry on SNL are really worth craning your neck to look back on?

On a side note, Generation Y and Millenials-- We got the short end of the generational nomenclature. Generation X, the Baby Boomers, now those are title you could be proud to have. But the shit we got stuck with? Millenials? Really? It sounds like I've been forced into a cult and not even one of the more interesting ones.

Maybe I'm the unusual one here-- after all if the New York Times says so, it must be true. There's a chance that I don't feel this way because I've purposely curbed any nostalgia fueled emotions that I can. Nostalgia comes from the Greek for "old wound" and I think that's a pretty apt meaning for what it is. No one ever seems to be helped by looking back on things and pining for them. Besides, they aren't even pining for the real past, they're longing for a memory of that time-- a memory which only exists in their head. I find it incredibly sad that people in their early twenties look at their life and find more interesting things in their past than in front of them. Let the old men and the pensioners long for the past, I've got shit to do today.

In the paraphrased words of George Carlin, "Nostalgia is bullshit."

Then again, maybe it's just because I don't like Clinton. Who knows.

How you doing Daniel?

Ah, I see you're busy. I'll come back.

(I love this movie, I really, truly do, even if it it's no fun and seems to be about a million hours long.)

23 July, 2009

Is it just me?

Or does Nikola Tesla look suspiciously like Ralph Fiennes? Take a look for yourself. I dare you to tell me I am wrong. I dare you.

And, of course he looks suspiciously like Liam Neeson, but we all knew that already.

22 July, 2009

1,000,000 B.C.

Because I just watched The Shawshank Redemption and Raquel Welch is mad hot.

In other news, I really aught to figure out how to customize the look of this blog. Looking at half of Raquel Welch just isn't doing it for me.

State of the Blogoblag

Computer's on the fritz, so updates on the blog are going to be sparse for a little while. I've got a few reviews and such I want to write, but I don't have the heart to start working on them if I know there's a good chance the computer will cut out in the middle of one. The same goes for the comic right now. In the mean time: Here is a hamster napping.

Look at how he isn't troubled by the weight of the world.

I'm watching TV right now and I want to know if the Pink Panther cartoons were ever funny. And wow, is this ever a strange lead in to Equus. Though that isn't as strange as Mr. Ed being shown right after Equus is.

China Makes a Re-re-Dumb-Baby

Now, I've seen and heard of some stupid people before, but this-- this is some dumb shit. Given the state of Chinese journalism, I'm apt to point out that this is a questionable story at best. China comes up with plenty of hilarious stories like this though. Stories like "Crazy outsider terrorists cause riots, not infinitely benevolent and wise policies*."

And with that said: Chinese Worker Commits Suicide over Lost iPhone.

Good morning, America, sup with you?

*Headline might be a fabrication on the part of the blogger.

21 July, 2009

Ah Nom Nom Nom

Aw, look at him go!

On Assignment

Check these out. I've seen many of these elsewhere, but they're still worth sorting through just in case you missed any. I think my favorite is the last one.

"This is how it feels to be in Afghanistan sometimes."

Fair enough, marine.

You know who else has gone to space?

This guy.

20 July, 2009

But Because They Are Hard

Neil Armstrong walked on the moon.

What did you ever do?

Now I Want To Be Your Sun Dog

Sun Dogs are awesome-- as are most celestial phenomenons. It is almost a shame that we can understand most of them as a modern society. It makes The Crucible and that one episode of Sabrina: The Teenage Witch seem silly.

See also: Hunter's Moon.

It's a fucking shame that we have no idea what is going on in our sky on most nights. I include myself in this camp. The heavens are wonderful. We shouldn't be snooty about understand them. We talk ourselves out of understanding the world in many ways, the phases of the moon is but one of these ways. Two thousand years ago, a person of your background would have been a priest with the same knowledge of the moon that we chose to ignore. That is, in so many words, fucking stupid.

I bring this up because Robert Dinero brings up the "Hunter's moon" during The Deer Hunter, which netted Christopher Walken his Best Supporting Actor Academy Award and also bored me near to death as a high school sophomore. It is also one of a few movies (including Citizen Kane and The Seventh Seal) which spawned a thousand parodies.

So, with that said:

And for the sake of full disclosure, the song that I stole the title from:

(Awesome, this has some weird Eastern European dub over it.)

There's also a clip from Takashi Miike's Dead or Alive that I want to post, but You Tube being what it is and my sobriety being what it is makes this impossible. Instead: Go see Dead or Alive. There's no way you can be disappointed-- Unless you're a fervent opponent of insanity.

God bless.

More News From Nowhere

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds' song "More News From Nowhere" is a reference to the William Morris novel News From Nowhere (not to be confused with Philip-Moris).

Of course the whole song is a prolonged re-telling of The Odyssey by Homer.

Nick Cave is one of my favorite artists and Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds is one of my favorite bands.

I played this album in my car back when I was living with The Tunisians. I played it on the way over to a middle eastern market deep in the heart of Orange Country (why we could not find cheap pita bread in this county is beyond my understanding). The only time they reacted to the album was to laugh at Nick Cave talking about a naked black woman and to ask me if this was Christian music. Shamefully, I don't think I had satisfactory answers for them.


I'm posting this because EMI, in their infinite wisdom, will not let me post the actual music video. Despite that, this is a brilliant song that doesn't ever fail to hit me square in the heart.

Alright, I guess I better bring more context into this-- because my emotions are beckoning me. And on a rare lark, I'm going to listen to them.

(By the way, this movie isn't as good as you want it to be)

I don't think this song ever fails to break my fucking heart. There's a unique combination of when I bought this album and when I had a harrowing personal experience that endears me to this song. I simply cannot separate it from my own personal experience. Though, even if whatever happened to me happened to me, I think it would still be one of my favorite songs of all time.

We did beat them, though. We beat them for more than one day.

We beat them.

Charlie Rose on Charile Rose

19 July, 2009

The American Canon

Watching Walter Cronkite report on the death of JFK made me think that there's a very large amount of things that we've taken in that affect our lives. And obviously this extends to everyone else in our little country.

Just off of the top of my head, there's the moon landing which occurred 40 years ago last week, there's the landing on the moon (a task which I still cannot fully comprehend the magnitude of), there's any number of films and TV shows and paintings and songs, there's the assassination of JFK and MLK and RFK and Chappaquidick and Gone With the Wind and Robert Frost and Ernest Hemingway and Fitzgerald and McCarthy and General Lee and General Custer and Edison and Tesla and the Roosevelts and Zapruder and Wayne and Eastwood and Cooper and Mifune and Washington (and Washington) and any number of people who have shaped this country into what it is, both mythologically and practically. They don't even have to be from here to help shape our culture.

All of these contribute to forming the substance of being American. They contribute covertly and overtly to use being who we are. Obviously watching the moon landing and being impressed isn't a uniquely American quality, but what I mean is that it means something slightly different to an American than it might to someone else.

That's a fair point, right?

These things are American Canon. You've got the canon of saints, you've got the canon of western literature, so it makes sense that there must be a canon of American things, right? There are plenty of things that make us Occidentals, and there are plenty of things that make America unique in that group.

It's a stupid question for me to be seeking the answer to. Me, who hasn't even graduated from a university, with barely any honors and a useless major, who has very little talent. Who am I to ask these questions? Well, nobody, I guess. Nobody, like anyone else.

I touched on this during my 4th of July posts, in a much more serious sense, I am proud to be American. I am proud to be a member of a culture than ended World War II, who invented the light bulb, and managed to become the greatest super-power the world has ever seen. I am also ashamed to have killed thousands of German and Japanese civilians, to have eliminated millions of Indians, to overthrow many legitimate governments. But this is who we are. We are complex and flawed. Flawed like anyone else. But, I think that we're greater than the flaws our country has.

I'm American. It is all I can be. And, with my 22 years of reading, watching, and writing-- as flawed as it is-- being American is all I can be. It is all I ever want to be. It is who I am and I thank God or Allah or the Divine Clock Winder for making me as such. I am sure the 22 year old film majors of the world feel very much the same as I do.

I won't get jingoistic or patriotic about this (or I'm going to try not to be). My interest as a writer is what is it about being American that makes us American? What novels, plays, songs, poems, television broadcasts, films, actors, albums, corpses, assassinations, wars, conflicts, coup de tats, elections, actresses, movements, protests, murders, and actists shape us as Americans? What differentiates us as North Americans? Or, perhaps, what just makes us a tourist destination?

Over spring break a British guy named Anthony stayed at my apartment in Long Beach. For the record, he was a good guest and I hope to have more guests like him (ie: Ones that require little effort to make happy). At some point I had a conversation with him about cults (I think I was reading up on mass suicides at the time). And, as a Limey, he never had an experience like the watching the Waco shoot-out on TV or the Michigan militia or the Heaven's Gate cult or the Manson massacre or the Jonestown Massacre or that other September 11th massacre (I'm talking about the one where the Mormons killed a bunch of people in Utah).

Obviously I didn't question him about every one of these things (that'd be pretty weird), but England hasn't ever really had events like that, so I imagine their outlook on life must be different. The TV and news events that make up how they view the world is very different from our own, even though our two cultures have more in common than most others. His culture isn't worse than ours and ours isn't worse than his and the same goes for either one being better than the other (despite attractive, white-guilt fueled art majors insisting otherwise). It's different. I'm sure he felt a feeling in his gut very much the same as I did on 9/11, but it couldn't be exactly the same. Somehow, it had to be different. It was a different context to him than it was for me and my friends. There are different architects at work, determining what makes England England and what makes America America. As an American, I don't care all that much about figuring out just what Englishness is.

Last week Walter Cronkite died. Walter was one of the Greats. He'll probably go down in time as a more important figure in American history than Kennedy, McNamara, Minh, or even LBJ or Carter (probably not Nixon, though). He was one of the men who determined the American Canon. Not the Western Canon or the Liberal Canon or the Libertarinian Canon or anything else. He defined America. He helped us be Americans. And, most importantly, he didn't do it through duplicity or deceiving, he did it by being a decent human being, by telling the truth, by having a sense of humor, and by appreciating what this country had given to him and by appreciating what he could give to this country.

Without overstating it, we lost one of the Great Americans last week: Walter Cronkite. I'm a student of many wars, including the Vietnam War, and in the paraphrased words of LBJ I will state the importance of Mr. Cronkite, "If we've lost Walter Cronkite, we've lost the war," which we eventually did. When Cronkite spoke, people listened, and they listened to somebody who knew what they were talking about and he was somebody who wanted you to listen.

We are worse off without a human being like Mr. Cronkite. He was there for our young country during the good times and the bad and during all of this time, he did it with an honesty and a humility that I think any nation would be happy to have. We are truly lucky that Mr. Cronkite was born when he was and had the podium that he had. He was a good person in the right place, and, at the risk of looking like a patriotic asshole, people like Walter Cronkite prove the value of America. He was in a position of authority and he used it wisely. To me that what America is.

I'm probably wrong, though.

We were lucky to have him when we did.

But I'm drunk and I'm young, so what do I know? My passport has never been stamped, I've never slept with someone who was borne outside of this hemisphere. I'm a man, I believe in Jesus Christ (not very well, though). I've never finished a comic or a film. So what do I know? Not much, probably. But I know this stuff I'm wondering about matters.

So, this might be taken as a thesis statement for this blog: I want to talk about the things that mold who we are. For better or for worse. As a writer-- as an aspiring writer-- this interests me. Even when I'm writing about British soldiers in Afghanistan or transsexuals in Bulgaria or talking manatees or bi-racial assassins, it all goes towards this goal of making sense of not only what an American is, but what a human is. . . or what a hamster is or what a robot is, maybe.

Than again, I am babbling.

Ted Kennedy, All Class

Mary Jo after being dredged up.

A consummate gentleman, that Teddy.

One Last Time

25 Feb 1967, Saigon, Vietnam --- SP4 Craig Mills of the 11th Cavalry hangs a bucket on a tank cannon while he bathes during Operation Junction City. --- Image by © Bettmann/CORBIS

Bombing Run, Vietnam

(Yanked off of the Time Magazine archives on Google)

If I Die in a Combat Zome

Box me up and ship me home.

18 July, 2009

That's It

Let the space ants kill us all and turn us into resin for the walls of their sugar mines. I don't care anymore. We deserve it.

This'll Probably Suck

But that mustache is just too much to resist.

Just look at it.

More Mifune, Messiuer


Eat noodles and you'll grow up to be a big, strong samurai like me!

Chez Kislingbury

Welcome to our humble abode.


Well, you won't be welcome and it really isn't all that humble and "abode" looks a bit too Mexican for my tastes. So, keep walking, bum. We ain't got the time for the likes you.


It's Just One of Those Days

You can't convince me that this isn't a great song.

17 July, 2009

The Big Picture: Afghanistan

If you don't have The Big Picture bookmarked or put into your RSS feed already, you really need to.

Today they released a two part series (each of 32 pictures) on Afghanistan. Obviously if you're me, this holds a different level of interest, but for anyone that is interested in world affairs, photography, or war, checking that page out might be a good place to start. It certainly won't be a bad one.

More Hong Kong Than You Can Shake Your Fist At

(Kowloon Walled City from Coil House magazine)

16 July, 2009

Edwards Cinema and Fandango are Child Rapists

Okay, now that I have your attention, I must tell you that this isn't exactly true. What they are is con artists at best, thieves at worst and bastards always.

Two days ago I bought a ticket to see Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (which was pretty good, by the way) for the wrong time and day. I ended up seeing it elsewhere at midnight. Today I got through to their customer service and they told me that I was shit out of luck. A refund would be impossible. Impossible. A huge corporation cannot refund me ten dollars for a movie I never watched because of a simple, silly error. Impossible. Nuts to that.

Not only that, but Fandango has the gall to charge a 1.50 "convenience charge" for buying tickets online. As if some representative from Fandango had to leave their office and personally buy the tickets for me instead of a program written by an Asian computer science major from Berkley. Ticketmaster has been pulling this same shit for years, but at least when I get ripped off from them its to see Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds live and not a Harry Potter movie that I would have been fine with watching on HBO in a year or two.

In short: Fuck Fandango and Edwards Theaters. I want each and every one of you within my realm of influence to boycott these assholes. I don't expect any sort of change or apology or refund, but I want to at least take the ten dollars from them that they rightfully owe me. Honestly, I don't see the difference between this and someone stealing something from me. I made a mistake and their massive corporation is completely incapable of meeting me half-way on this. Fuck that. And fuck them.

So, in the mean time, I am officially not going to any of these fuckass' theaters ever again. You're officially on the shit list, Edwards and Fandango.

Welcome to Ground Control

If you didn't know, today celebrates the 40th Anniversary of the Apollo 11 Mission (That's the one where we walked on the moon). There really aren't enough words in my vocabulary to express how profound this act is. We conquered all possible odds to walk on the closest, possibly the only, reachable celestial body in the universe. That's pretty cool.

We've all seen the launch photos, and as amazing as those are, I cannot get enough of control rooms.

For the record:

(Images pulled from The Big Picture and The Onion, respectively)

Damnit, America

Who needs a history when we can buy underwear by the pound?

Today in The 'Ghan

I used to subscribe to the "From Our Correspondant" podcast on the BBC, but after a few too many snide analysises of foreign countries, I dropped it. So I just stuck with the news and Mark Kermode and the book club (which only updated once a month, so it was never too much to handle). Luckily for me From Our Own Correspondant also appears in print (sort of) online. This entry is about the risks and rigors of the British fighting in the Helmand province. It's interesting, it's short, it's great source material.

Will History Repeat Itself in Afghanistan? This is the kind of question a lot of armchair assholes ask when they want to pretend like they know anything (they're the same kind of dullards that thought that Blu-Ray would lose out to HD-DVD because it didn't support pornography, like Beta-Max before it-- Like I said, jackasses). This article does a pretty good job of telling these people that they are terrible monsters.

Yo, Jimbo!

I think Yojimbo might just be one of my top five favorite films of all time.

And Toshiro Mifune might be one of my top five favorite actors of all time.

15 July, 2009

In This Entry

I will start vomiting and never stop.

Feel free to join in.

Personally, I just like a gal with jugs.

Bonus: Child soldiers of the Congo! Let's make this happen!

It's Times Like This I Wish I Had Bastards

So I just watched Time Bandits for the first time. There's two conclusions I reached with this film: A) I really should have seen this far earlier than I did and B) I cannot wait to show this to my future children. This pretty much is the perfect film to show to a kid. It's funny, it's weird, shit blows up, there's no cussing or titties, and it's got Ian Holm. What more could they want?

Oh, and I love Terry Gilliam, so there's that.

So I guess that's three thoughts, really.

Good Morning, Internet!

This dude really wants to see the new Harry Potter movie.