Now that I've discovered how to link shit in YOUTUBE, I have decided I'm going to post some stuff you should watch because I tell you to.
First up is the first part of episode 908 of Mystery Science Theater 3000 called HOBGOBLINS. Today was the first time in my entire life that I ever watched it, and it made me cry because I laughed so hard. You have the option of watching all of it (search for "mst3k" and "hobgoblins") but the host segment in this first part is the awesomest, because Crow and Mike are wearing footie pajamas, and I HAVE FOOTIE PAJAMAS!!! YAY CHRISTMAS PRESENT FROM THE HUSBAND!!! YAY FOOTIE PAJAMAS IN GENERAL!!! YAY SCREAMING BOBO!!!!
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Monday, August 28, 2006
review--COBRA STARSHIP
So, yeah, SNAKES ON A PLANE. I, for one, have been trumpeting it from the top of Mount Doom since I first heard about it. And, hey, it was cool. It was SNAKES ON A PLANE. There wasn't enough Samuel L. Jackson. There was a lot of puss. A LOT of puss. Did you know snake bites cause an obscene amount of puss? According to this movie, they do. A LOT OF PUSS.
Anyway....
The greatest thing about this movie, except for all the TV appearances of Samuel L. Jackson saying Fuck over and over again (which is always appreciated) is the theme from SNAKES ON A PLANE, called BRING IT, by the put-together band COBRA STARSHIP. The band features members of Midtown, The Sounds, The Academy Is..., and Gym Class Heroes. This will probably mean nothing to you, as it did to me. Except I have songs on my player from all these bands, but apparently not put there consciously. Anyway, this song kicks all sorts of ass. It is infectious in a way snake venom is not (although lots of puss could result from both). Also, the band is wildly fucking attractive. So good for them.
Watch this over and over again, just because that one dude looks sort of like if John Taylor from Duran Duran and Orlando Bloom had a baby.
Anyway....
The greatest thing about this movie, except for all the TV appearances of Samuel L. Jackson saying Fuck over and over again (which is always appreciated) is the theme from SNAKES ON A PLANE, called BRING IT, by the put-together band COBRA STARSHIP. The band features members of Midtown, The Sounds, The Academy Is..., and Gym Class Heroes. This will probably mean nothing to you, as it did to me. Except I have songs on my player from all these bands, but apparently not put there consciously. Anyway, this song kicks all sorts of ass. It is infectious in a way snake venom is not (although lots of puss could result from both). Also, the band is wildly fucking attractive. So good for them.
Watch this over and over again, just because that one dude looks sort of like if John Taylor from Duran Duran and Orlando Bloom had a baby.
Tuesday, August 1, 2006
Monday, July 24, 2006
review--TOAD THE WET SPROCKET
So The Lawyer Friend won tickets to a show and was kind enough to think of me and invite me along. I think The Lawyer Friend and I have seen Toad the Wet Sprocket together before, but I could be wrong. We did see Barenaked Ladies together, a band very similiar to TtWS.
Wait, I hear you saying. Kelmeister, didn't Toad the Wet Sprocket break up? Why, yes, Gentle Reader, they did, to Pursue Other Things. But occasionally when money's tight or the mood hits they take to the road and allow us the opportunity to bask in their glory one last time, like Cher or Barbra Streisand. Only they're younger and vaginally challenged.
So here's how it went.
The show was outdoors, at a small venue, which was nice. It threatened rain, which kept the temperatures to Just Below Hot As Hell. Since it's summer, The Huge University was out for the quarter and the drunk frat boys were at a minimum. When I last saw Toad, The Husband and I had to put up with dozens of drunk frat guys singing the wrong lyrics at the top of their lungs. It was AWFUL. Although there were two ladies behind us who would not shut the hell up.
Nothing pisses me off more than sitting near people at a concert who yak the whole time and then are like, "Wait, I know this song." WHY THE HELL ARE YOU HERE?!?!?!
Anyway, Toad was awesome. Glen Phillips, the lead singer, sang some of his originals from his solo albums, one of which the rest of Toad came out and played backup on. It was AMAZING. I wanted so badly to shout JUST RECORD A NEW FUCKING ALBUM ALREADY but I doubt they could've heard me over the women chatting behind me.
Of course they closed the show with WALK ON THE OCEAN, which is their best known song. Did I ever tell you about the first time I ever had an epiphany? A real one? Like, a realization so mind-blowing that it feels like you've been kicked in the chest? Walk On The Ocean did it for me. It was the summer of '93. The Best Friend At College and I were sort of fighting over a guy. This dude was a real loser, the second in a long line of alcoholics to which I would eventually attach myself. He picked The Best Friend At College over me, by the way, but looking back now I know it wasn't much of a loss. Except my self-esteem took a hit. But anyway...
That year had been the first time I'd ever seen Toad The Wet Sprocket. The Best Friend At College actually went with me. But anyway...
That summer The Best Friend At College and I decided to take a road trip to visit her brother on the East Coast. On the way back we made a spur-of-the-moment decision to visit college friends, taking the long and winding road back to The Cowlands. So for three or four days we drove around, dropping in unannounced on people who happened to live in the city we were driving through. It was fun and exciting. Until the end of the trip, when one of us or both of us made the fatal error to DROP IN ON THAT ALCOHOLIC DUDE WE'D BEEN FIGHTING OVER. Why? I don't know. It was pretty obvious from the moment he opened the door that he wasn't all that excited to see us. But then I guess he'd decided hey, maybe I'll get some, so he and The Best Friend disappeared together. I ended up going to bed, waking up a some ungodly hour to wander around the house and look in drawers and stuff (which was all kinds of awesome because they were INSANELY WEALTHY so I got to see some COOL SHIT). Eventually dude's parents got up a little before the crack of dawn so we all hung out in the kitchen and ate breakfast and chatted. They were really cool people.
As a quick sidebar, it was The Best Friend At College who labeled me "Parents and Pets," ie they all love me, the parents and pets.
Anyway, The Best Friend At College and I at some point got around to saying good-bye. Awkward hugs all around. We hopped into The Kelmeistermobile and started her up. I popped a tape into the then still-working tape deck. The first song that came on? Walk On The Ocean
We spotted the ocean at the head of the trail
Where are we going, so far away
And somebody told me that this is the place
Where everything’s better, everything’s safe
Walk on the ocean
Step on the stones
Flesh becomes water
Wood becomes bone
And half an hour later we packed up our things
We said we’d send letters and all of those little things
And they knew we were lying but they smiled just the same
It seemed they’d already forgotten we’d came
Now we’re back at the homestead
Where the air makes you choke
And people don’t know you
And trust is a joke
We don’t even have pictures
Just memories to hold
They grow sweeter each season
As we slowly grow old
And in that moment, pulling out of the driveway, watching the house recede in the rearview mirror, it dawned on me what the song meant. And in those brief moments, everything hit me in a flash--the past three years at The Kollege On The Hill, high school, leaving my parents' nest, all the crazy shit that'd been going on in my life--I understood everything with a clarity I don't think I've ever duplicated.
All that in a song.
And of course now I'm all about JUST FUCKING RECORD ANOTHER FUCKING ALBUM, WHY DON'T YOU?!?!?! Because no one ever accused me of being deep.
So that, Gentle Reader, is a page and a half from my book.
What happens in the epilogue?
Well, you know what happens to me: I get married to The awesome Husband, get fat, spoil my cats and watch a lot of shitty television.
The Best Friend At College made an appearance at last year's reunion I should have never gone to, which in and of itself is a horror story if I ever told one, and has since then dropped me an email and then disappeared back into the ether.
The Alcoholic Dude We Kind Of Fought Over is (according to the one time I Googled, *cough*) married, has a kid, and is president of a multi-million dollar corporation.
This just SCREAMS to be made into a Reese Witherspoon movie, doesn't it?
Wait, I hear you saying. Kelmeister, didn't Toad the Wet Sprocket break up? Why, yes, Gentle Reader, they did, to Pursue Other Things. But occasionally when money's tight or the mood hits they take to the road and allow us the opportunity to bask in their glory one last time, like Cher or Barbra Streisand. Only they're younger and vaginally challenged.
So here's how it went.
The show was outdoors, at a small venue, which was nice. It threatened rain, which kept the temperatures to Just Below Hot As Hell. Since it's summer, The Huge University was out for the quarter and the drunk frat boys were at a minimum. When I last saw Toad, The Husband and I had to put up with dozens of drunk frat guys singing the wrong lyrics at the top of their lungs. It was AWFUL. Although there were two ladies behind us who would not shut the hell up.
Nothing pisses me off more than sitting near people at a concert who yak the whole time and then are like, "Wait, I know this song." WHY THE HELL ARE YOU HERE?!?!?!
Anyway, Toad was awesome. Glen Phillips, the lead singer, sang some of his originals from his solo albums, one of which the rest of Toad came out and played backup on. It was AMAZING. I wanted so badly to shout JUST RECORD A NEW FUCKING ALBUM ALREADY but I doubt they could've heard me over the women chatting behind me.
Of course they closed the show with WALK ON THE OCEAN, which is their best known song. Did I ever tell you about the first time I ever had an epiphany? A real one? Like, a realization so mind-blowing that it feels like you've been kicked in the chest? Walk On The Ocean did it for me. It was the summer of '93. The Best Friend At College and I were sort of fighting over a guy. This dude was a real loser, the second in a long line of alcoholics to which I would eventually attach myself. He picked The Best Friend At College over me, by the way, but looking back now I know it wasn't much of a loss. Except my self-esteem took a hit. But anyway...
That year had been the first time I'd ever seen Toad The Wet Sprocket. The Best Friend At College actually went with me. But anyway...
That summer The Best Friend At College and I decided to take a road trip to visit her brother on the East Coast. On the way back we made a spur-of-the-moment decision to visit college friends, taking the long and winding road back to The Cowlands. So for three or four days we drove around, dropping in unannounced on people who happened to live in the city we were driving through. It was fun and exciting. Until the end of the trip, when one of us or both of us made the fatal error to DROP IN ON THAT ALCOHOLIC DUDE WE'D BEEN FIGHTING OVER. Why? I don't know. It was pretty obvious from the moment he opened the door that he wasn't all that excited to see us. But then I guess he'd decided hey, maybe I'll get some, so he and The Best Friend disappeared together. I ended up going to bed, waking up a some ungodly hour to wander around the house and look in drawers and stuff (which was all kinds of awesome because they were INSANELY WEALTHY so I got to see some COOL SHIT). Eventually dude's parents got up a little before the crack of dawn so we all hung out in the kitchen and ate breakfast and chatted. They were really cool people.
As a quick sidebar, it was The Best Friend At College who labeled me "Parents and Pets," ie they all love me, the parents and pets.
Anyway, The Best Friend At College and I at some point got around to saying good-bye. Awkward hugs all around. We hopped into The Kelmeistermobile and started her up. I popped a tape into the then still-working tape deck. The first song that came on? Walk On The Ocean
We spotted the ocean at the head of the trail
Where are we going, so far away
And somebody told me that this is the place
Where everything’s better, everything’s safe
Walk on the ocean
Step on the stones
Flesh becomes water
Wood becomes bone
And half an hour later we packed up our things
We said we’d send letters and all of those little things
And they knew we were lying but they smiled just the same
It seemed they’d already forgotten we’d came
Now we’re back at the homestead
Where the air makes you choke
And people don’t know you
And trust is a joke
We don’t even have pictures
Just memories to hold
They grow sweeter each season
As we slowly grow old
And in that moment, pulling out of the driveway, watching the house recede in the rearview mirror, it dawned on me what the song meant. And in those brief moments, everything hit me in a flash--the past three years at The Kollege On The Hill, high school, leaving my parents' nest, all the crazy shit that'd been going on in my life--I understood everything with a clarity I don't think I've ever duplicated.
All that in a song.
And of course now I'm all about JUST FUCKING RECORD ANOTHER FUCKING ALBUM, WHY DON'T YOU?!?!?! Because no one ever accused me of being deep.
So that, Gentle Reader, is a page and a half from my book.
What happens in the epilogue?
Well, you know what happens to me: I get married to The awesome Husband, get fat, spoil my cats and watch a lot of shitty television.
The Best Friend At College made an appearance at last year's reunion I should have never gone to, which in and of itself is a horror story if I ever told one, and has since then dropped me an email and then disappeared back into the ether.
The Alcoholic Dude We Kind Of Fought Over is (according to the one time I Googled, *cough*) married, has a kid, and is president of a multi-million dollar corporation.
This just SCREAMS to be made into a Reese Witherspoon movie, doesn't it?
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
interlude--I JUST SHOWED MY ASSCRACK TO SOME GUY
Here's how it happened:
I was sitting at my desk. The Husband had just sent me a link to a video on YouTube, which after watching I felt compelled to look for Mystery Science Theater 3000 videos. I have a subscription to this dude's account; he's been posting entire episodes, including some not available on DVD. Apparently, his account's been suspended.
Anyway, while thumbing though the stuff marked MST3K, I realized I was thirsty. Best go downstairs and get me a Doctor Pepper, I think, because I'd just had a package of brussel sprouts and some pretzels for lunch, and my throat was parched. I grabbed my keys and hopped on the elevator, heading down to the first floor break room. I had a very delightful conversation with myself on the way down, in which I was being interviewed by a reporter from People Magazine, who was amazed that celebrities loved being my friend, and how cool it was that The Husband was so supportive of my various friendships with hot male celebrities, Taylor Hicks being the newest member of my fan club. Hey, I explained to myself, I can't help it if I'm so awesome without even trying.
I was excited to get to the breakroom, because early today I went to Tim Horton's for coffee and had paid for it with a five, meaning I had change right in my pocket and didn't need to fish out my bulky wallet. YAY FOR LESS PHYSICAL MOTION!!! So I fed a dollar into the pop machine and made my selection. Immediately my can of Doctor Pepper fell into the recepticle. My change, however, flew from the coin slot with a force equal to a human sneeze, or possibly an atomic bomb test at the Bikini Atoll. I was forced to bend over to pick up a dime. For whatever reason--not bending at the knees, having slippery fingers, being insanely fat--it took me a couple of bobs up and down before I could retrieve my dime. As this was happening, I felt a familiar tug at my hips: my new pants, nay, my ONLY pants, were sliding down with each bow. A gentle breeze caressed my lower back. I couldn't feel my underwear.
And then, some guy walked by.
Luckily, as he passed I picked up my dime and high-tailed it to the mail room. I never saw his face.
He, unfortunately, may have seen my cheeks.
And that, dear readers, is the sordid tale of my brief adventure in exotic dancing. The Husband, I imagine, will laugh and again reiterate that KELMEISTER YOUR PANTS ARE TOO BIG which he tells me quite often and I blow off with a quick tale about lifelong neuroses begat by teenaged FEAR OF CAMEL TOE and TEASING BY CLASSMATES and how no matter what, I am doomed to never wear pants that are the correct size. At which point he will do the honorable thing by telling me he likes to see my ass--when I deign to show him the lusty double cantaloupe-iness of my derriere--at which I will appropriately giggle and blush but vow never to give in to small pants hegemony!!!
It's a horrible, horrible conundrum: too-small underpants and too-big pants. Or I could just get a belt.
I was sitting at my desk. The Husband had just sent me a link to a video on YouTube, which after watching I felt compelled to look for Mystery Science Theater 3000 videos. I have a subscription to this dude's account; he's been posting entire episodes, including some not available on DVD. Apparently, his account's been suspended.
Anyway, while thumbing though the stuff marked MST3K, I realized I was thirsty. Best go downstairs and get me a Doctor Pepper, I think, because I'd just had a package of brussel sprouts and some pretzels for lunch, and my throat was parched. I grabbed my keys and hopped on the elevator, heading down to the first floor break room. I had a very delightful conversation with myself on the way down, in which I was being interviewed by a reporter from People Magazine, who was amazed that celebrities loved being my friend, and how cool it was that The Husband was so supportive of my various friendships with hot male celebrities, Taylor Hicks being the newest member of my fan club. Hey, I explained to myself, I can't help it if I'm so awesome without even trying.
I was excited to get to the breakroom, because early today I went to Tim Horton's for coffee and had paid for it with a five, meaning I had change right in my pocket and didn't need to fish out my bulky wallet. YAY FOR LESS PHYSICAL MOTION!!! So I fed a dollar into the pop machine and made my selection. Immediately my can of Doctor Pepper fell into the recepticle. My change, however, flew from the coin slot with a force equal to a human sneeze, or possibly an atomic bomb test at the Bikini Atoll. I was forced to bend over to pick up a dime. For whatever reason--not bending at the knees, having slippery fingers, being insanely fat--it took me a couple of bobs up and down before I could retrieve my dime. As this was happening, I felt a familiar tug at my hips: my new pants, nay, my ONLY pants, were sliding down with each bow. A gentle breeze caressed my lower back. I couldn't feel my underwear.
And then, some guy walked by.
Luckily, as he passed I picked up my dime and high-tailed it to the mail room. I never saw his face.
He, unfortunately, may have seen my cheeks.
And that, dear readers, is the sordid tale of my brief adventure in exotic dancing. The Husband, I imagine, will laugh and again reiterate that KELMEISTER YOUR PANTS ARE TOO BIG which he tells me quite often and I blow off with a quick tale about lifelong neuroses begat by teenaged FEAR OF CAMEL TOE and TEASING BY CLASSMATES and how no matter what, I am doomed to never wear pants that are the correct size. At which point he will do the honorable thing by telling me he likes to see my ass--when I deign to show him the lusty double cantaloupe-iness of my derriere--at which I will appropriately giggle and blush but vow never to give in to small pants hegemony!!!
It's a horrible, horrible conundrum: too-small underpants and too-big pants. Or I could just get a belt.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
review--DANGEROUS SEX GAMES
So this weekend saw The Husband and me in Nashville for The Wedding of The Husband's Best Friend From College and Her Boyfriend. We had the BEST TIME EVER, even though The Car broke down and needed a new oxygen sensor (whatever the hell that is) and I was forced to buy from Target what became my second pair of pants because my other pair were destroyed in an encounter with the Harpeth River. What made the weekend so special was not the awesome wedding, or the wonderful people we met, or the great food...it was the softcore porn we bought on the hotel TV for $11: DANGEROUS SEX GAMES.
DANGEROUS SEX GAMES--written by Nobel Prize winner Noe Wunn--was advertised as having a plot, which is the little I require in a porn. Which I know sort of defeats the point of porn, but when you think about it, sex is pretty silly and disgusting to watch when other people are doing it, so it helps if there's a bit of CONFLICT to keep you interested. Also, the synopsis warned of EXTREME NUDITY. How can you pass up something with EXTREME NUDITY? What is EXTREME NUDITY? How can you be more EXTREMELY NUDE than you are when you have no clothes on?
So the plot goes like this: Darren and Kia are a couple who are arguing about going to their friend Simon's house for his birthday. See, Simon likes to throw murder mystery parties and Kia can't stand them, because once Simon put a dead rat in a box or something. But then they have sex and Kia decides to go, because I guess the sex was awesome. But I wouldn't know because they didn't show it. So at Simon's house they meet up with friends Parker and Brianna, who reveal that they hate Simon, too, but they're at the party anyway because hey, free booze. Then there's Chelsea the maid who you know is the maid because she's in a French maid's outfit. And then Simon shows up with this ugly chick, Lizette. Simon's a total asshole, and he's come up with this awesome new game called "The Case Of The Bloody Knife." It involves a series of numbered envelopes, numbered in no particular order, which need to be opened in a particular order to reveal a series of clues which leads to a prize: two tickets to Anguilla. The clues all have to do with some aspect of mythology, which you know in real life none of these people would know anything about. And then they all have sex with each other, but they don't show any of it. Except for when the two chicks have sex, then they showed all of that. And then Simon's found dead, and Kia (after having sex with various people) figures out it was Lizette who killed Simon, because she was pissed that Simon was having sex with the maid. But Simon knew Lizette was going to kill him, so instead of ratting her out to the police he concocted a labrythine murder mystery game with lots of clues and envelopes. But he did actually leave four tickets instead of two, so everyone gets to go to Anguilla. And everyone lives happily ever after, and Darren and Kia profess their undying love for one another and then they have sex, YAY AMERICA and THE END!!!
So DANGEROUS SEX GAMES was only an hour long. For $11. And according to the internets, it was supposed to be 90 minutes, which would explain why there wasn't actually any sex or EXTREME NUDITY. But you have to wonder why they'd bother cutting that stuff out, especially if you're paying $11 for EXTREME NUDITY. I also think much of the plot was lost in the edits, because it was never actually adequately explained how Kia figured out Lizette was the murderer when Kia was dumber than a sock of nickles. And why any of them would want to have sex with each other, let alone be friends.
I'm still deciding if it would be worth it to hunt down the unedited version.
As for the weekend, there was no EXTREME NUDITY, but there was lots of GETTING LOST and HONKYTONK MUSIC and JEFF GORDON'S BIG HEAD HAWKING STUFF FROM BILLBOARDS. There was also lots of GREAT PEOPLE and COOL PARENTS and CUTE KIDS and SEARING HUMIDITY. The Husband's Best Friend From College And Her Husband are awesome. Their friends and family are all awesome. And The Husband and I have cemented our status as BEST TEAM EVER, as we put Lewis and Clark to shame with our canoeing prowess.
The Husband and I can do ANYTHING, we're so awesome. Everything except pick out porn.
But hey, it was either that or boxing.
DANGEROUS SEX GAMES--written by Nobel Prize winner Noe Wunn--was advertised as having a plot, which is the little I require in a porn. Which I know sort of defeats the point of porn, but when you think about it, sex is pretty silly and disgusting to watch when other people are doing it, so it helps if there's a bit of CONFLICT to keep you interested. Also, the synopsis warned of EXTREME NUDITY. How can you pass up something with EXTREME NUDITY? What is EXTREME NUDITY? How can you be more EXTREMELY NUDE than you are when you have no clothes on?
So the plot goes like this: Darren and Kia are a couple who are arguing about going to their friend Simon's house for his birthday. See, Simon likes to throw murder mystery parties and Kia can't stand them, because once Simon put a dead rat in a box or something. But then they have sex and Kia decides to go, because I guess the sex was awesome. But I wouldn't know because they didn't show it. So at Simon's house they meet up with friends Parker and Brianna, who reveal that they hate Simon, too, but they're at the party anyway because hey, free booze. Then there's Chelsea the maid who you know is the maid because she's in a French maid's outfit. And then Simon shows up with this ugly chick, Lizette. Simon's a total asshole, and he's come up with this awesome new game called "The Case Of The Bloody Knife." It involves a series of numbered envelopes, numbered in no particular order, which need to be opened in a particular order to reveal a series of clues which leads to a prize: two tickets to Anguilla. The clues all have to do with some aspect of mythology, which you know in real life none of these people would know anything about. And then they all have sex with each other, but they don't show any of it. Except for when the two chicks have sex, then they showed all of that. And then Simon's found dead, and Kia (after having sex with various people) figures out it was Lizette who killed Simon, because she was pissed that Simon was having sex with the maid. But Simon knew Lizette was going to kill him, so instead of ratting her out to the police he concocted a labrythine murder mystery game with lots of clues and envelopes. But he did actually leave four tickets instead of two, so everyone gets to go to Anguilla. And everyone lives happily ever after, and Darren and Kia profess their undying love for one another and then they have sex, YAY AMERICA and THE END!!!
So DANGEROUS SEX GAMES was only an hour long. For $11. And according to the internets, it was supposed to be 90 minutes, which would explain why there wasn't actually any sex or EXTREME NUDITY. But you have to wonder why they'd bother cutting that stuff out, especially if you're paying $11 for EXTREME NUDITY. I also think much of the plot was lost in the edits, because it was never actually adequately explained how Kia figured out Lizette was the murderer when Kia was dumber than a sock of nickles. And why any of them would want to have sex with each other, let alone be friends.
I'm still deciding if it would be worth it to hunt down the unedited version.
As for the weekend, there was no EXTREME NUDITY, but there was lots of GETTING LOST and HONKYTONK MUSIC and JEFF GORDON'S BIG HEAD HAWKING STUFF FROM BILLBOARDS. There was also lots of GREAT PEOPLE and COOL PARENTS and CUTE KIDS and SEARING HUMIDITY. The Husband's Best Friend From College And Her Husband are awesome. Their friends and family are all awesome. And The Husband and I have cemented our status as BEST TEAM EVER, as we put Lewis and Clark to shame with our canoeing prowess.
The Husband and I can do ANYTHING, we're so awesome. Everything except pick out porn.
But hey, it was either that or boxing.
Monday, June 12, 2006
interlude--GAK!!! I HATE THESE THINGS
Because Gigamatt demands it:
1. Go to Wikipedia.
2. In the Search box, type your birth month and day (but not year).
3. List three events that happened on your birthday.
4. List two important birthdays and one interesting death.
5. Post it.
Three Events:
1839 - In Boston, Massachusetts, the American Statistical Association is founded.
1924 - In New York City the first Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade is held.
2005 - The first partial human face transplant is completed in Amiens, France.
Way Too Many Important Births:
1940 - Bruce Lee, American bad ass (d. 1973)
1941 - Eddie Rabbitt, American singer and lover of rainy nights (d. 1998)
1942 - Jimi Hendrix, American singer, guitarist and songwriter (d. 1970)
1953 - Curtis Armstrong, American Booger
1954 - Patricia McPherson, Bonnie from TV's Knight Rider
1955 - Bill Nye, American engineer and Science Guy
1956 - William Fichtner, American actor of total awesomeness who was just on TV's Invasion but who you may better know as the pilot in Armeggedon and the blind dude in Contact
1962 - Davey Boy Smith, The British Bulldog (d. 2002)
1963 - Fisher Stevens, American actor who was in Short Circuit, hahaha
1964 - Robin Givens, American actress who was on Head of the Class and then married Mike Tyson, hahaha
1966 - Andy Merrill, American voice of Brak and Oglethorpe
1968 - Michael Vartan, French actor from TV's Alias
1976 - Jaleel White, American actor and TV's Urkel
One Interesting Death:
1990 - David White, American actor (b. 1916), Larry Tate on TV's Bewitched
And now I toss it over to The Husband.
1. Go to Wikipedia.
2. In the Search box, type your birth month and day (but not year).
3. List three events that happened on your birthday.
4. List two important birthdays and one interesting death.
5. Post it.
Three Events:
1839 - In Boston, Massachusetts, the American Statistical Association is founded.
1924 - In New York City the first Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade is held.
2005 - The first partial human face transplant is completed in Amiens, France.
Way Too Many Important Births:
1940 - Bruce Lee, American bad ass (d. 1973)
1941 - Eddie Rabbitt, American singer and lover of rainy nights (d. 1998)
1942 - Jimi Hendrix, American singer, guitarist and songwriter (d. 1970)
1953 - Curtis Armstrong, American Booger
1954 - Patricia McPherson, Bonnie from TV's Knight Rider
1955 - Bill Nye, American engineer and Science Guy
1956 - William Fichtner, American actor of total awesomeness who was just on TV's Invasion but who you may better know as the pilot in Armeggedon and the blind dude in Contact
1962 - Davey Boy Smith, The British Bulldog (d. 2002)
1963 - Fisher Stevens, American actor who was in Short Circuit, hahaha
1964 - Robin Givens, American actress who was on Head of the Class and then married Mike Tyson, hahaha
1966 - Andy Merrill, American voice of Brak and Oglethorpe
1968 - Michael Vartan, French actor from TV's Alias
1976 - Jaleel White, American actor and TV's Urkel
One Interesting Death:
1990 - David White, American actor (b. 1916), Larry Tate on TV's Bewitched
And now I toss it over to The Husband.
Monday, June 5, 2006
interlude--BITCH HURT MY FEELINGS
I suppose this is what happens to everyone, eventually, when you open yourself up to the throngs of people like yourself who roam teh intrawebs. I should have been happy with the lot I'd been dealt: all those comments about twinks and the like (I actually had to look that up on Urban Dictionary; the more you know, I guess). But then I got this in my inbox:
this is the worst site i have EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVER been to! it has no good facts because we already new all that if we watch the show! and plus the language and you totally go off topic! i wanted some info about the director but i guess i should check a BETTER site, well that wont be hard because a three year old could make a better site!
GOOD BYE
(K) (L) (K) (L)(K) (L)(K)
___________________
This was in reply to an entry I made back in 2004 when I started watching LOST. When I read it, my heart literally broke. I don't think I've ever been the recipient of a Cut-And-Paste exclamation of hatred. So I naturally felt the need to make it up to the letter-writer, fhfsh at sddsfdff@hotmail.com. BTW, I don't think that's a real email. So anyway, here is my 2 AM response to fhfsh, entitled BITCH HURT MY FEELINGS, or EVERYTHING YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO KNOW ABOUT LOST BUT WERE AFRAID TO ASK.
*cough*
First, I feel the need to express at the outset that I actually don't watch LOST. I think (and here my memories are hazy as this was 2004) I may have watched the episode after the one I wrote about in the entry referenced above. Whether or not this episode was seen by me is moot, for I have not watched another episode since. I think my reason for this may or may not be "I could no longer give a rat's ass." I wanted more mutant polar bears; instead the show focused on Matthew Fox's stubble. I get my week's fill of stubble thanks to Hugh Laurie; I can handle no more.
Second, deep in my heart I fear your comment about mine being "The worst site i have EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVER been to" may perhaps be in reference to what even I agree is very poor web design. I know it's not enough to point out that the colors do not clash, there is no blinking text, no MIDI of "Wind Beneath My Wings" that tinkles cheerlessly in the background. I am loathe to admit that I attended and passed a rudimentary HTML design class. I fear my apparent lack of 733t haxOr skillz bespeaks poorly of my instructor. Unfortunately, we never reached CSS, so all I am capable of is changing the picture at the top of the page, and harassing my host to change the layout. Which he hasn't done. Because I so rarely harass him. And I could never settle on a layout that would satisfy both me and my obviously discerning audience.
Third, I would like to point out something lost among all the clutter of the site: This page is not about LOST. I should probably make it more apparent that this is first and foremost simply a BLOG; I do not claim any vast knowledge of anything for fear my hubris come back to haunt me. Instead, I try to give a different take on things of interest to no one except myself, and perhaps a few people who know me and lower themselves enough to care. When I wrote the entry in question, LOST had just aired for the first time; I was still under the delusion that ALIAS was a half-decent show, and was naively under the impression that this would be a show about people trapped on an island with mutant polar bears. Oh, how I was mistaken! Oh, how I no longer care if Charlie goes back on the smack, or who kidnapped Claire, or all they all really dead and trapped in a level of Dante's Hell? Normally, I would be experiencing a mighty orgasm of televised ecstasy at the very thought of such a mystery, but then American Idol came on and SOUL PATROL and lo and behold I no longer could muster any enthusiasm at all. So, please accept my most heartfelt apology that you were misled into thinking I could tell you Dominic Monaghan's birthday or Naveen Andrews's favorite color. All I know for sure is that at last look, Andrews is dating Barbara Hershey. I would again like to point out that I wrote my entry back in 2004, and I am well aware that much has happened on the show since then, what with the numbers and Walt's kidnapping and 108 minutes and all that food Hurley found, and how sad that was when he really liked Libby and then she got killed, especially because the only reason for her death was that she drove drunk in real life and had a very bad mug shot taken and embarrassed the show. But as I've said, I don't watch the show anymore so I haven't kept up, and this web site wasn't relly meant to chronicle the show.
Also, I know nothing about JJ Abrams. I know he created FELICITY and ALIAS. He also wrote that movie with Harrison Ford when he had brain damage, REGARDING HENRY. And he wrote the movie where Mel Gibson got all old and lived in Jamie Lee Curtis's basement, FOREVER YOUNG. He also wrote JOY RIDE, which stars Steve Zahn whom I totally love and who was in HAPPY, TEXAS with Jeremy Northam, who is also a totally hottie. HAPPY, TEXAS is an awesome movie, by the way. I saw it at the dollar theater, and it was really silly and cute. JOY RIDE is supposed to be really awesome; I haven't seen it, but I've read a lot of reviews for it that say it's underrated and pretty scary. The really scary thing is that JJ Abrams is attached to the next Star Trek movie, and no matter what happens in that movie, it's going to be all sorts of suck. I've long argued that they need to focus on the political strife such as was in Deep Space 9, but that will never happen. I just pray it's not ENTERPRISE, right? I mean, seriously?
Anyway, Fhfsh, it happens sometimes with the fickle world of television: shows we once loved lose our interest; the mighty fall; favorites fall out of favor. Other shows catch our eye for no apparent reason: case in point, I cannot stand GREY'S ANATOMY, and yet I cannot stop watching it, it's so bad. Why do I waste my time, I ask myself every week, and yet, there I am again, watching and probably crying my eyes out. I wanted to like LOST, but it just didn't happen. I may view it on DVD, in a sitting or two; I may like it better when I watch it all at once like that. You seem like you really enjoy the show. I wish I could see in it what you see.
Lastly, I would just like to say that I don't understand your comment about the language on this site. I try my utmost to maintain a family-friendly site. And of course by "family" I mean "Manson." FUCK FUCK FUCKITY FUCK FUCK FUCKTARD. FUCK, it's 3AM, I'm fucking off to bed. Unless there's awesome bad soft-core on the channel we barely get, then I may stay up.
Hmm, Night of the Wilding starring Erik Estrada. Maybe...mmm, maybe.
this is the worst site i have EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVER been to! it has no good facts because we already new all that if we watch the show! and plus the language and you totally go off topic! i wanted some info about the director but i guess i should check a BETTER site, well that wont be hard because a three year old could make a better site!
GOOD BYE
(K) (L) (K) (L)(K) (L)(K)
___________________
This was in reply to an entry I made back in 2004 when I started watching LOST. When I read it, my heart literally broke. I don't think I've ever been the recipient of a Cut-And-Paste exclamation of hatred. So I naturally felt the need to make it up to the letter-writer, fhfsh at sddsfdff@hotmail.com. BTW, I don't think that's a real email. So anyway, here is my 2 AM response to fhfsh, entitled BITCH HURT MY FEELINGS, or EVERYTHING YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO KNOW ABOUT LOST BUT WERE AFRAID TO ASK.
*cough*
First, I feel the need to express at the outset that I actually don't watch LOST. I think (and here my memories are hazy as this was 2004) I may have watched the episode after the one I wrote about in the entry referenced above. Whether or not this episode was seen by me is moot, for I have not watched another episode since. I think my reason for this may or may not be "I could no longer give a rat's ass." I wanted more mutant polar bears; instead the show focused on Matthew Fox's stubble. I get my week's fill of stubble thanks to Hugh Laurie; I can handle no more.
Second, deep in my heart I fear your comment about mine being "The worst site i have EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVEREVER EVER EVER EVER EVER been to" may perhaps be in reference to what even I agree is very poor web design. I know it's not enough to point out that the colors do not clash, there is no blinking text, no MIDI of "Wind Beneath My Wings" that tinkles cheerlessly in the background. I am loathe to admit that I attended and passed a rudimentary HTML design class. I fear my apparent lack of 733t haxOr skillz bespeaks poorly of my instructor. Unfortunately, we never reached CSS, so all I am capable of is changing the picture at the top of the page, and harassing my host to change the layout. Which he hasn't done. Because I so rarely harass him. And I could never settle on a layout that would satisfy both me and my obviously discerning audience.
Third, I would like to point out something lost among all the clutter of the site: This page is not about LOST. I should probably make it more apparent that this is first and foremost simply a BLOG; I do not claim any vast knowledge of anything for fear my hubris come back to haunt me. Instead, I try to give a different take on things of interest to no one except myself, and perhaps a few people who know me and lower themselves enough to care. When I wrote the entry in question, LOST had just aired for the first time; I was still under the delusion that ALIAS was a half-decent show, and was naively under the impression that this would be a show about people trapped on an island with mutant polar bears. Oh, how I was mistaken! Oh, how I no longer care if Charlie goes back on the smack, or who kidnapped Claire, or all they all really dead and trapped in a level of Dante's Hell? Normally, I would be experiencing a mighty orgasm of televised ecstasy at the very thought of such a mystery, but then American Idol came on and SOUL PATROL and lo and behold I no longer could muster any enthusiasm at all. So, please accept my most heartfelt apology that you were misled into thinking I could tell you Dominic Monaghan's birthday or Naveen Andrews's favorite color. All I know for sure is that at last look, Andrews is dating Barbara Hershey. I would again like to point out that I wrote my entry back in 2004, and I am well aware that much has happened on the show since then, what with the numbers and Walt's kidnapping and 108 minutes and all that food Hurley found, and how sad that was when he really liked Libby and then she got killed, especially because the only reason for her death was that she drove drunk in real life and had a very bad mug shot taken and embarrassed the show. But as I've said, I don't watch the show anymore so I haven't kept up, and this web site wasn't relly meant to chronicle the show.
Also, I know nothing about JJ Abrams. I know he created FELICITY and ALIAS. He also wrote that movie with Harrison Ford when he had brain damage, REGARDING HENRY. And he wrote the movie where Mel Gibson got all old and lived in Jamie Lee Curtis's basement, FOREVER YOUNG. He also wrote JOY RIDE, which stars Steve Zahn whom I totally love and who was in HAPPY, TEXAS with Jeremy Northam, who is also a totally hottie. HAPPY, TEXAS is an awesome movie, by the way. I saw it at the dollar theater, and it was really silly and cute. JOY RIDE is supposed to be really awesome; I haven't seen it, but I've read a lot of reviews for it that say it's underrated and pretty scary. The really scary thing is that JJ Abrams is attached to the next Star Trek movie, and no matter what happens in that movie, it's going to be all sorts of suck. I've long argued that they need to focus on the political strife such as was in Deep Space 9, but that will never happen. I just pray it's not ENTERPRISE, right? I mean, seriously?
Anyway, Fhfsh, it happens sometimes with the fickle world of television: shows we once loved lose our interest; the mighty fall; favorites fall out of favor. Other shows catch our eye for no apparent reason: case in point, I cannot stand GREY'S ANATOMY, and yet I cannot stop watching it, it's so bad. Why do I waste my time, I ask myself every week, and yet, there I am again, watching and probably crying my eyes out. I wanted to like LOST, but it just didn't happen. I may view it on DVD, in a sitting or two; I may like it better when I watch it all at once like that. You seem like you really enjoy the show. I wish I could see in it what you see.
Lastly, I would just like to say that I don't understand your comment about the language on this site. I try my utmost to maintain a family-friendly site. And of course by "family" I mean "Manson." FUCK FUCK FUCKITY FUCK FUCK FUCKTARD. FUCK, it's 3AM, I'm fucking off to bed. Unless there's awesome bad soft-core on the channel we barely get, then I may stay up.
Hmm, Night of the Wilding starring Erik Estrada. Maybe...mmm, maybe.
Saturday, April 29, 2006
review--THREADS
Or, as this should alternately be titled:
WHY I COULDN'T LEAVE WELL ENOUGH ALONE.
I don't know if you know this or not (which is why I'm here--to alert you to the up-to-the-minute internets happenings that you absolutely MUST know about) but a recent MEME making its way around the ether is this woman named Anne Sellors. I want to say I heard about this on Fark first, but I distinctly remember the email conversation I had with The Friend in NC. He was all like, "Hey, did you hear about this woman who was in this movie?" And I was all like, yeah, I totally heard all about it. But then he sent me video, which is way better than reading a description.
Anyway, google Anne Sellors and what you will discover is that she has the greatest entry on Internet Movie Database, EVER. She has one credit to her name, "Woman who urinates herself," in the made-for-British-TV movie THREADS. So you google her, and this is the basic information you get about her. And you can find video of this scene on YouTube. But for you, Dear Audience--and to satisfy my own curiousity--I rented THREADS from the library. I just finished watching it a half hour ago. I so totally need a cigarette right now, because I'm completely freaked the fuck out. And not in a good, SILENT HILL "Pyramid Head Is Coming To Get Me" sort of way, but in a "Now I can't read Fark or Yahoo news or Salon because I JUST DON'T WANT TO KNOW" way.
THREADS tells the story of a Russian nuclear attack on NATO bases in the West and its effects on the British town of Sheffield. The movie begins benignly enough with a young couple discovering they're accidently pregnant, and as their families try to deal with the "fallout" of this revelation, news broadcasts on TV and radio play in the background, documenting the growing tensions between Russia and the US over Iran. One precision nuclear warhead strike on a base leads to all-out annihilation. THREADS follows the decade long struggle of the survivors.
At the end of the movie, there's a list a mile long of technical advisors, Carl Sagan being one of them. I remember back in the day reading his book The Nuclear Winter: The World After Nuclear War, because we were all crazily obsessed with nuclear war (at least The Cousin and I were; I remember in 1986, when I was in eighth grade, and the Chernobyl explosion had happened. Tom Brokaw said on the news that all the lettuce in the world was irradiated. I wouldn't eat lettuce for the longest time after that). I had a dream once, when I was in sixth grade, that there'd been a war. The Brother and I were sleeping in bunk beds that were in an "L" configuration; I was in the top bunk. In my dream I woke up to find a portion of the roof had fallen, killing The Brother. Everyone was dead and I was the only person left. And at the end of the dream I was sitting on a tree stump, surrounded by cans of food that I couldn't open. I was so shaken by my own reaction to the idea of my brother dying.
When I was in college, I took a class on American literature since 1945. The last week of class was a free week, the professor said; "I'll let you guys choose the book we read, just give me a synopsis and I'll choose one for us to study." I suggested Generation X, which was my favorite book at the time. For some reason, the professor chose that one. He liked to spend most of the class time complaining about how much he hated it and thought it was overindulgent crap, which was ironic because everything we'd read up until that point was Russell Banks and John Updike and lots of middle-aged men having mid-life crises and writing self-indulgent crap about it. Anyway, I digress. One of the major complaints the professor had was that much of Generation X focuses on the narrator's fear of nuclear holocaust: he frequently has nightmares about it, and finds himself drawn to missle testing ranges. "What a bunch of CRAP!" my professor cried. "You kids have no idea what it was like having to live with air raid sirens going off and ducking and covering under your desks and fallout shelters!!!" "OH CONTRAIRE, MON FRERE!!!" I hollered back. I remember the drills we had in elementary school where we'd hunker down in the locker room. And The Day After. And the Doomsday Clock. Three Minutes to Midnight. "We begin bombing in five minutes." What a bunch of SHIT that your generation has sole rights to being afraid!!
When I got THREADS from the library, The Husband right off the bat said no to watching it. I was under the impression that anything with a credit such as "Woman who urinates herself" can't be THAT serious. I mean, I saw that part on YouTube. It was fucking hysterical. SHE PEED HER PANTS!!! HAHAHAAHHA!!
But then you see it in context, and it isn't so funny.
I did a quick look-see on the IMDB message boards about the movie. There's a thread, "parts that stick in your mind." The one that people remember most? Anne Sellors urinating on herself. And they don't remember it in a humorous way.
I forget where I was going with this.
So, yeah, nuclear war is bad. THREADS shows a lot of bloodly limbs and vomiting. OMG, there was this part, after the bomb dropped and there was rubble everywhere...they showed this pile of debris and there was a fountain of blood shooting out from it. And there was a lot of radiation sickness. And deformed babies.
And there's no Steve Guttenberg to save the day.
It was just all sorts of fucked up.
Oh, now I remember. The WORST, THE WORST!!!!! PART OF THIS MOVIE!!!! Is that it takes place in MAY (which is coming up) and the war is between Russia and the US over control of Iran. So listening to the news in the movie was a lot like listening to the news right now. Which is why I'm so freaked out about the news right now. It reminds me of when I first read Stephen King's The Stand. I started reading it in 1985, a few days before the action in the book starts. It upped the freakout factor of the book by a billion. So THREADS ends up being all the more difficult to watch because the cause of the war is so close to what's going on politically in our own world. It's just totally fucked up.
In conclusion, THREADS kicked ass in the way that only British people can kick the soap opera-y ass of American films. It's not as chokingly difficult as TESTAMENT, another really horrible-to-watch nuclear war movie. THREADS is far more scientific in its methods. I can't breathe. I should have never watched it.
That being said, get it from the library. You NEED to see it. Because I think we've all been living with a false sense of security. That doesn't sound right at all, what with the Iraq War and everything, but it could get so much more worse. There's this really awful part of the movie where all these people are attending a rally, and someone's making a speech about the consequences of war and whatnot, and the people attending the rally are pissed because there's nothing worth saving about their lives as they are, anyway: there's a recession, and everyone's out of work, so what's the point about getting all worked up about bombs? And it was just another thing about this movie that hit unpleasantly close to home. And it's not just because Iran is threatening to make a bomb, but because our current government is desperate to use the ones we already have. We need to make sure that it gets back into the human consciousness: A nuclear war is unwinnable.
In the movie there's an awesome line spoken by a peace activist: "The Russians would have conquered a corpse of a country." How can I sleep at night knowing my indifference helped kill it?
WHY I COULDN'T LEAVE WELL ENOUGH ALONE.
I don't know if you know this or not (which is why I'm here--to alert you to the up-to-the-minute internets happenings that you absolutely MUST know about) but a recent MEME making its way around the ether is this woman named Anne Sellors. I want to say I heard about this on Fark first, but I distinctly remember the email conversation I had with The Friend in NC. He was all like, "Hey, did you hear about this woman who was in this movie?" And I was all like, yeah, I totally heard all about it. But then he sent me video, which is way better than reading a description.
Anyway, google Anne Sellors and what you will discover is that she has the greatest entry on Internet Movie Database, EVER. She has one credit to her name, "Woman who urinates herself," in the made-for-British-TV movie THREADS. So you google her, and this is the basic information you get about her. And you can find video of this scene on YouTube. But for you, Dear Audience--and to satisfy my own curiousity--I rented THREADS from the library. I just finished watching it a half hour ago. I so totally need a cigarette right now, because I'm completely freaked the fuck out. And not in a good, SILENT HILL "Pyramid Head Is Coming To Get Me" sort of way, but in a "Now I can't read Fark or Yahoo news or Salon because I JUST DON'T WANT TO KNOW" way.
THREADS tells the story of a Russian nuclear attack on NATO bases in the West and its effects on the British town of Sheffield. The movie begins benignly enough with a young couple discovering they're accidently pregnant, and as their families try to deal with the "fallout" of this revelation, news broadcasts on TV and radio play in the background, documenting the growing tensions between Russia and the US over Iran. One precision nuclear warhead strike on a base leads to all-out annihilation. THREADS follows the decade long struggle of the survivors.
At the end of the movie, there's a list a mile long of technical advisors, Carl Sagan being one of them. I remember back in the day reading his book The Nuclear Winter: The World After Nuclear War, because we were all crazily obsessed with nuclear war (at least The Cousin and I were; I remember in 1986, when I was in eighth grade, and the Chernobyl explosion had happened. Tom Brokaw said on the news that all the lettuce in the world was irradiated. I wouldn't eat lettuce for the longest time after that). I had a dream once, when I was in sixth grade, that there'd been a war. The Brother and I were sleeping in bunk beds that were in an "L" configuration; I was in the top bunk. In my dream I woke up to find a portion of the roof had fallen, killing The Brother. Everyone was dead and I was the only person left. And at the end of the dream I was sitting on a tree stump, surrounded by cans of food that I couldn't open. I was so shaken by my own reaction to the idea of my brother dying.
When I was in college, I took a class on American literature since 1945. The last week of class was a free week, the professor said; "I'll let you guys choose the book we read, just give me a synopsis and I'll choose one for us to study." I suggested Generation X, which was my favorite book at the time. For some reason, the professor chose that one. He liked to spend most of the class time complaining about how much he hated it and thought it was overindulgent crap, which was ironic because everything we'd read up until that point was Russell Banks and John Updike and lots of middle-aged men having mid-life crises and writing self-indulgent crap about it. Anyway, I digress. One of the major complaints the professor had was that much of Generation X focuses on the narrator's fear of nuclear holocaust: he frequently has nightmares about it, and finds himself drawn to missle testing ranges. "What a bunch of CRAP!" my professor cried. "You kids have no idea what it was like having to live with air raid sirens going off and ducking and covering under your desks and fallout shelters!!!" "OH CONTRAIRE, MON FRERE!!!" I hollered back. I remember the drills we had in elementary school where we'd hunker down in the locker room. And The Day After. And the Doomsday Clock. Three Minutes to Midnight. "We begin bombing in five minutes." What a bunch of SHIT that your generation has sole rights to being afraid!!
When I got THREADS from the library, The Husband right off the bat said no to watching it. I was under the impression that anything with a credit such as "Woman who urinates herself" can't be THAT serious. I mean, I saw that part on YouTube. It was fucking hysterical. SHE PEED HER PANTS!!! HAHAHAAHHA!!
But then you see it in context, and it isn't so funny.
I did a quick look-see on the IMDB message boards about the movie. There's a thread, "parts that stick in your mind." The one that people remember most? Anne Sellors urinating on herself. And they don't remember it in a humorous way.
I forget where I was going with this.
So, yeah, nuclear war is bad. THREADS shows a lot of bloodly limbs and vomiting. OMG, there was this part, after the bomb dropped and there was rubble everywhere...they showed this pile of debris and there was a fountain of blood shooting out from it. And there was a lot of radiation sickness. And deformed babies.
And there's no Steve Guttenberg to save the day.
It was just all sorts of fucked up.
Oh, now I remember. The WORST, THE WORST!!!!! PART OF THIS MOVIE!!!! Is that it takes place in MAY (which is coming up) and the war is between Russia and the US over control of Iran. So listening to the news in the movie was a lot like listening to the news right now. Which is why I'm so freaked out about the news right now. It reminds me of when I first read Stephen King's The Stand. I started reading it in 1985, a few days before the action in the book starts. It upped the freakout factor of the book by a billion. So THREADS ends up being all the more difficult to watch because the cause of the war is so close to what's going on politically in our own world. It's just totally fucked up.
In conclusion, THREADS kicked ass in the way that only British people can kick the soap opera-y ass of American films. It's not as chokingly difficult as TESTAMENT, another really horrible-to-watch nuclear war movie. THREADS is far more scientific in its methods. I can't breathe. I should have never watched it.
That being said, get it from the library. You NEED to see it. Because I think we've all been living with a false sense of security. That doesn't sound right at all, what with the Iraq War and everything, but it could get so much more worse. There's this really awful part of the movie where all these people are attending a rally, and someone's making a speech about the consequences of war and whatnot, and the people attending the rally are pissed because there's nothing worth saving about their lives as they are, anyway: there's a recession, and everyone's out of work, so what's the point about getting all worked up about bombs? And it was just another thing about this movie that hit unpleasantly close to home. And it's not just because Iran is threatening to make a bomb, but because our current government is desperate to use the ones we already have. We need to make sure that it gets back into the human consciousness: A nuclear war is unwinnable.
In the movie there's an awesome line spoken by a peace activist: "The Russians would have conquered a corpse of a country." How can I sleep at night knowing my indifference helped kill it?
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