Garrison Kelly's Blog, page 125
October 18, 2014
Jessica Harley
The similarity between the names Jessica Harley and Jessica Haggar are mind-boggling. Their back stories are similar as well. But I assure you with 100% conviction that Mike Haggar’s daughter from Final Fight was not the inspiration for Jessica Harley, so put away the fan fiction pre-writes for a moment.
Jessica Harley was from a movie script idea that never got off the ground called The Trauma Force. It was detective fiction similar to The Shield, brutality, leather jackets, sex, drugs, violence, and all. Jessica was the wife of lead character Shawn Harley and kidnapped away from him during a drug bust. Mrs. Harley wouldn’t be found until the end of the story, which smells of Final Fight logic, but trust me, it isn’t.
Jessica was the name of my online girlfriend from 2002-2005. Though we never kissed or made love, we were indeed in love with each other. Whoever said teenagers don’t know what love is never felt the magic between me and Jessica. The blood sugar sex magic started when the two of us were role-playing on a Final Fantasy-themed MSN group.
I was the bullheaded knight Sharry Seran and she was Mikoto Tribal from Final Fantasy IX. Our two characters got kidnapped by holier-than-thou paladins and we had to fight our way out together through thick and thin. An in-game marriage proposal was in the works despite the two characters not knowing each other. Fantasy and reality were extremely blurry at this time and we eventually became boyfriend and girlfriend.
The Trauma Force version of Jessica was a manifestation of my online girlfriend at the time. Both were so beautiful and so far away, the latter being for different reasons, obviously. I couldn’t distinguish the difference between losing her to kidnapping and losing her to life progression in another state. Call me needy, but when the real world Jessica didn’t reply to my letters for the longest time, I felt empty and cold. When somebody loses contact with you for a long time, you get worried. When you get worried, you get scared. When you get scared, you get angry at life.
After 2005, I officially recognized our relationship as over due to her not responding for long enough. I wasn’t going to save myself for somebody I couldn’t have. But Jessica Harley, the fictional character she’s based off of, well, I can certainly do a lot with her. Whatever I did with Mrs. Harley, I’d have to do with carefulness. I want to cherish the time we had together and not think bitter thoughts now that it’s over. I still want to use Jessica Harley in a romantic way, but I just don’t know how. Will she and Shawn still be together by the next story’s beginning? Will their story resemble Final Fight or heaven forbid Savages?
Maybe Shawn and Jessica don’t have to fight the world with their fists. Maybe they don’t need conventional weapons like guns or knives. Are there no other props that are more appropriate for a whirlwind romance? How about musical instruments? Nothing says love like a grinding guitar and Meytal Cohen-style drums. Maybe they can occupy the streets with megaphones and cardboard signs, protesting something that will earn them bullets to the chest. What if the loving couple fought the world with magic wands? Shawn could be Harry Potter and Jessica could be Ginny Weasley. Maybe their revolution will be quiet and all they’ll need is a library full of good books. Shawn could be Charlie and Jessica could be Sam. So many possibilities. No matter what I choose for these two, they won’t take being human for granted this time.
***LYRICS OF THE DAY***
“You love me for everything you hate me for.”
-In This Moment singing “Whore”-
Jessica Harley was from a movie script idea that never got off the ground called The Trauma Force. It was detective fiction similar to The Shield, brutality, leather jackets, sex, drugs, violence, and all. Jessica was the wife of lead character Shawn Harley and kidnapped away from him during a drug bust. Mrs. Harley wouldn’t be found until the end of the story, which smells of Final Fight logic, but trust me, it isn’t.
Jessica was the name of my online girlfriend from 2002-2005. Though we never kissed or made love, we were indeed in love with each other. Whoever said teenagers don’t know what love is never felt the magic between me and Jessica. The blood sugar sex magic started when the two of us were role-playing on a Final Fantasy-themed MSN group.
I was the bullheaded knight Sharry Seran and she was Mikoto Tribal from Final Fantasy IX. Our two characters got kidnapped by holier-than-thou paladins and we had to fight our way out together through thick and thin. An in-game marriage proposal was in the works despite the two characters not knowing each other. Fantasy and reality were extremely blurry at this time and we eventually became boyfriend and girlfriend.
The Trauma Force version of Jessica was a manifestation of my online girlfriend at the time. Both were so beautiful and so far away, the latter being for different reasons, obviously. I couldn’t distinguish the difference between losing her to kidnapping and losing her to life progression in another state. Call me needy, but when the real world Jessica didn’t reply to my letters for the longest time, I felt empty and cold. When somebody loses contact with you for a long time, you get worried. When you get worried, you get scared. When you get scared, you get angry at life.
After 2005, I officially recognized our relationship as over due to her not responding for long enough. I wasn’t going to save myself for somebody I couldn’t have. But Jessica Harley, the fictional character she’s based off of, well, I can certainly do a lot with her. Whatever I did with Mrs. Harley, I’d have to do with carefulness. I want to cherish the time we had together and not think bitter thoughts now that it’s over. I still want to use Jessica Harley in a romantic way, but I just don’t know how. Will she and Shawn still be together by the next story’s beginning? Will their story resemble Final Fight or heaven forbid Savages?
Maybe Shawn and Jessica don’t have to fight the world with their fists. Maybe they don’t need conventional weapons like guns or knives. Are there no other props that are more appropriate for a whirlwind romance? How about musical instruments? Nothing says love like a grinding guitar and Meytal Cohen-style drums. Maybe they can occupy the streets with megaphones and cardboard signs, protesting something that will earn them bullets to the chest. What if the loving couple fought the world with magic wands? Shawn could be Harry Potter and Jessica could be Ginny Weasley. Maybe their revolution will be quiet and all they’ll need is a library full of good books. Shawn could be Charlie and Jessica could be Sam. So many possibilities. No matter what I choose for these two, they won’t take being human for granted this time.
***LYRICS OF THE DAY***
“You love me for everything you hate me for.”
-In This Moment singing “Whore”-
October 17, 2014
UFC: Gilbert Melendez vs. Diego Sanchez
TITLE: UFC: Gilbert Melendez vs. Diego Sanchez
GENRE: Mixed-Martial Arts Contest
RATING: TV-14 for violence and blood
GRADE: Pass
A TV-14 rating doesn’t do this UFC fight justice. Let’s try some more creative titles for this bloody slugfest between two aggressive lightweights. How about Diet Hostel? How about Zero Carb Saw? Or if you really wanted to get disgusting, try Human Centipede Light. Tuck the kids in early, folks, because the battle between Diego Sanchez and Gilbert Melendez was so brutal it should have been fought in a Roman coliseum. Are you prepared for me to show instead of tell? Alright then, I can certainly do that.
The first round of the fight was anything but a feeling out process. Gilbert and Diego didn’t paw at each other or try to keep each other at distance. They came out swinging like they were playing Rock ‘em Sock ‘em Robots. The punches and kicks were so frequent in this round that the strike count must have been in the hundreds. And then when the round was almost over, the strikes became even more frequent. The closer to the ending horn they got, the more it resembled a battle from Dragon Ball Z: blurs and blood.
No disrespect to the first round, but the second round was where the bloodbath began. Gilbert Melendez smashed Diego Sanchez above his left eyebrow and opened up a gusher of a cut. That one extra hole in Diego’s head made his entire face look like a vampire’s dream come true. There was even a point in the second round where the referee Kerry Hadley had to pause the match so the ringside doctor could look at the cut. Despite the drooling blood, all that needed to happen was a liberal application of clear ointment and the match continued.
The third round was more of the same: Bravo-Oscar-Oscar-Lima-Delta. Once again Kerry Hadley paused the match due to the waterfall flowing from Diego’s head and once again the doctor put more ointment on the cut. Truth is, there isn’t enough ointment in this world to keep Gilbert Melendez from opening somebody’s face with his chainsaw fists. Gilbert and Diego kept swinging and smashing each other to where both of them were in danger of being finished. The final horn sounded and the fans were on their feet screaming their heads off. If they screamed any louder, the doctor would have more blood to clean up because of the exploding skulls all over the arena.
The judges didn’t have much of a chore to do that night. It was obvious from Dracula’s buffet table who was the clear winner of this battle. The judges scored the fight 30-27, 29-28, and 29-28, all three of those scores in favor of Gilbert Melendez. What puzzles me about all of this is why would the audience boo that decision? It’s not rocket science, it’s brain surgery, almost literally. Gilbert won the fight fair and square and the audience is going to bitch about the decision? Is Diego Sanchez that untouchable?
It should come as no shock this fight earned praise from everyone in the MMA community who wasn’t booing like a lunatic. Both Gilbert Melendez and Diego Sanchez earned Fight of the Night bonuses from Dana White. They also earned the Fight of the Year award from the Wrestling Observer Newsletter, which is a prestigious pro-wrestling and MMA publication. Joe Rogan called it the best fight he’s ever seen and he sounded like he was serious this time. Mike Goldberg made a wise-ass remark to the tune of “Jones and Gustafson who?”, though he was only kidding and meant no disrespect.
All the praise in the world can’t compare to what Gilbert Melendez received for his victory: a lightweight title shot against Anthony Pettis. Congratulations, guys. The judges ruled in Gilbert’s favor, but there are no losers in this match.
GENRE: Mixed-Martial Arts Contest
RATING: TV-14 for violence and blood
GRADE: Pass
A TV-14 rating doesn’t do this UFC fight justice. Let’s try some more creative titles for this bloody slugfest between two aggressive lightweights. How about Diet Hostel? How about Zero Carb Saw? Or if you really wanted to get disgusting, try Human Centipede Light. Tuck the kids in early, folks, because the battle between Diego Sanchez and Gilbert Melendez was so brutal it should have been fought in a Roman coliseum. Are you prepared for me to show instead of tell? Alright then, I can certainly do that.
The first round of the fight was anything but a feeling out process. Gilbert and Diego didn’t paw at each other or try to keep each other at distance. They came out swinging like they were playing Rock ‘em Sock ‘em Robots. The punches and kicks were so frequent in this round that the strike count must have been in the hundreds. And then when the round was almost over, the strikes became even more frequent. The closer to the ending horn they got, the more it resembled a battle from Dragon Ball Z: blurs and blood.
No disrespect to the first round, but the second round was where the bloodbath began. Gilbert Melendez smashed Diego Sanchez above his left eyebrow and opened up a gusher of a cut. That one extra hole in Diego’s head made his entire face look like a vampire’s dream come true. There was even a point in the second round where the referee Kerry Hadley had to pause the match so the ringside doctor could look at the cut. Despite the drooling blood, all that needed to happen was a liberal application of clear ointment and the match continued.
The third round was more of the same: Bravo-Oscar-Oscar-Lima-Delta. Once again Kerry Hadley paused the match due to the waterfall flowing from Diego’s head and once again the doctor put more ointment on the cut. Truth is, there isn’t enough ointment in this world to keep Gilbert Melendez from opening somebody’s face with his chainsaw fists. Gilbert and Diego kept swinging and smashing each other to where both of them were in danger of being finished. The final horn sounded and the fans were on their feet screaming their heads off. If they screamed any louder, the doctor would have more blood to clean up because of the exploding skulls all over the arena.
The judges didn’t have much of a chore to do that night. It was obvious from Dracula’s buffet table who was the clear winner of this battle. The judges scored the fight 30-27, 29-28, and 29-28, all three of those scores in favor of Gilbert Melendez. What puzzles me about all of this is why would the audience boo that decision? It’s not rocket science, it’s brain surgery, almost literally. Gilbert won the fight fair and square and the audience is going to bitch about the decision? Is Diego Sanchez that untouchable?
It should come as no shock this fight earned praise from everyone in the MMA community who wasn’t booing like a lunatic. Both Gilbert Melendez and Diego Sanchez earned Fight of the Night bonuses from Dana White. They also earned the Fight of the Year award from the Wrestling Observer Newsletter, which is a prestigious pro-wrestling and MMA publication. Joe Rogan called it the best fight he’s ever seen and he sounded like he was serious this time. Mike Goldberg made a wise-ass remark to the tune of “Jones and Gustafson who?”, though he was only kidding and meant no disrespect.
All the praise in the world can’t compare to what Gilbert Melendez received for his victory: a lightweight title shot against Anthony Pettis. Congratulations, guys. The judges ruled in Gilbert’s favor, but there are no losers in this match.
October 16, 2014
Terrato Matrix
When I was a kid watching TV, a commercial would come on for Taco Bell and their “crunchy supremes” or whatever the hell they were called. The tagline of those commercials was “Crunch so big, crunch so low, so everybody eat tacos!”
Around that same time, my brother James was playing Final Fantasy VI on the Super Nintendo and there was a monster in the game called Terrato, a giant snake who when summoned would cast a spell called Earth Aura and did a shit ton of damage to the enemies. Putting two and two together, I said, “Crunch it high, crunch it low, let’s all eat Terrato!” James, being the clever comedian he was, said in a mocking voice, “Let’s all eat a poisonous snake!”
If it hadn’t been for that small moment of childhood bliss, I wouldn’t have a fascination with the name Terrato and the character in question (Terrato Matrix) would have probably been named something else.
The Matrix part of his name was easy: he wore a black trench coat and sunglasses, just like Neo, Trinity, and Morpheus from The Matrix. Nearly a decade and a half after the moment of childhood bliss, I put two and two together once again and came up with the main character for a movie script I wrote called “Tower of Heaven”.
In “Tower of Heaven”, disgusting monsters called Intimidators took over the earth and the only safe sanctuary was an aura-protected tower named after the title of the movie. Terrato Matrix’s job was to find as many innocent people as he could and bring them safely to the Tower of Heaven until somebody could find the solution to this Intimidator apocalypse.
If anybody was qualified for the job, it was Terrato. He carried a machete everywhere he went, but he was more than a slasher. Most wizards carried wands, but when Terrato was slinging his machete, he was casting badass spells from fireballs to tidal waves to lightning bolts to shadow spikes to poison thorns. If “Tower of Heaven” didn’t end up sucking so badly and having a Deus Ex Machina ending, Terrato Matrix wouldn’t be unemployed right now.
Another job opportunity came for Terrato in the form of a dark fantasy novel called Zeromancer. He was a member of the story’s first act, though he didn’t get that much time in the limelight. He was embroiled in a rivalry with his brother Baraka over a marine chick named Jet McCammon. Terrato and Baraka both wanted her and the war between them got so heated that Jet was believed to be dead at one point. The two machete-wielding, trench coat-wearing brothers dueled it out until the fight ended in a draw and the main character of that act, Kento Bladecaptain, was left with fewer allies to fight the real threat to the world, a dragon barbarian named Atlas Venom. Way to get off track, Terrato.
That’s okay, because Zeromancer didn’t stand much of a chance either. It was written in 2011, a time where I thought it was acceptable to abuse hyperbolic comparisons and to write paragraphs a full 8.5 x 11 page long. To say Zeromancer was beyond repair would be putting it mildly. To say it was a fucking mess would be vulgar, but more accurate.
To show you how much Terrato meant to me during both 2008 (Tower of Heaven) and 2011 (Zeromancer), listen to this. He wasn’t just another character I could throw away willy-nilly. He was slated to be the next Deus Shadowheart when it came to popularity.
When I first introduced Deus in 2002, everybody at the Final Fantasy-themed MSN community he was a part of was excited to see him (except for a few douche bags who thought I was stealing from Starcraft, but that’s beside the point). Deus is still fresh in the minds of guys like James Howell, Kenny Flynn, Robert Hatfield, and many others who were old enough to remember. While Terrato didn’t reach that level of popularity, I was at least hoping he would. Don’t worry, Terrato: your turn for fame will eventually come. I hope.
***MOVIE QUOTE OF THE DAY***
“We’ve had our eye on you for quite sometime, Mr. Anderson. It appears you’re living two lives. In one of these lives, you’re Thomas Anderson. You’re a program writer for a respectable software company. You have a social security number. You pay taxes. You even take out your landlady’s garbage. In the other life, you’re alias hacker Neo. You’re guilty of virtually every computer crime we have a law for. One of these lives has a future. The other does not.”
-Agent Smith from “The Matrix”-
Around that same time, my brother James was playing Final Fantasy VI on the Super Nintendo and there was a monster in the game called Terrato, a giant snake who when summoned would cast a spell called Earth Aura and did a shit ton of damage to the enemies. Putting two and two together, I said, “Crunch it high, crunch it low, let’s all eat Terrato!” James, being the clever comedian he was, said in a mocking voice, “Let’s all eat a poisonous snake!”
If it hadn’t been for that small moment of childhood bliss, I wouldn’t have a fascination with the name Terrato and the character in question (Terrato Matrix) would have probably been named something else.
The Matrix part of his name was easy: he wore a black trench coat and sunglasses, just like Neo, Trinity, and Morpheus from The Matrix. Nearly a decade and a half after the moment of childhood bliss, I put two and two together once again and came up with the main character for a movie script I wrote called “Tower of Heaven”.
In “Tower of Heaven”, disgusting monsters called Intimidators took over the earth and the only safe sanctuary was an aura-protected tower named after the title of the movie. Terrato Matrix’s job was to find as many innocent people as he could and bring them safely to the Tower of Heaven until somebody could find the solution to this Intimidator apocalypse.
If anybody was qualified for the job, it was Terrato. He carried a machete everywhere he went, but he was more than a slasher. Most wizards carried wands, but when Terrato was slinging his machete, he was casting badass spells from fireballs to tidal waves to lightning bolts to shadow spikes to poison thorns. If “Tower of Heaven” didn’t end up sucking so badly and having a Deus Ex Machina ending, Terrato Matrix wouldn’t be unemployed right now.
Another job opportunity came for Terrato in the form of a dark fantasy novel called Zeromancer. He was a member of the story’s first act, though he didn’t get that much time in the limelight. He was embroiled in a rivalry with his brother Baraka over a marine chick named Jet McCammon. Terrato and Baraka both wanted her and the war between them got so heated that Jet was believed to be dead at one point. The two machete-wielding, trench coat-wearing brothers dueled it out until the fight ended in a draw and the main character of that act, Kento Bladecaptain, was left with fewer allies to fight the real threat to the world, a dragon barbarian named Atlas Venom. Way to get off track, Terrato.
That’s okay, because Zeromancer didn’t stand much of a chance either. It was written in 2011, a time where I thought it was acceptable to abuse hyperbolic comparisons and to write paragraphs a full 8.5 x 11 page long. To say Zeromancer was beyond repair would be putting it mildly. To say it was a fucking mess would be vulgar, but more accurate.
To show you how much Terrato meant to me during both 2008 (Tower of Heaven) and 2011 (Zeromancer), listen to this. He wasn’t just another character I could throw away willy-nilly. He was slated to be the next Deus Shadowheart when it came to popularity.
When I first introduced Deus in 2002, everybody at the Final Fantasy-themed MSN community he was a part of was excited to see him (except for a few douche bags who thought I was stealing from Starcraft, but that’s beside the point). Deus is still fresh in the minds of guys like James Howell, Kenny Flynn, Robert Hatfield, and many others who were old enough to remember. While Terrato didn’t reach that level of popularity, I was at least hoping he would. Don’t worry, Terrato: your turn for fame will eventually come. I hope.
***MOVIE QUOTE OF THE DAY***
“We’ve had our eye on you for quite sometime, Mr. Anderson. It appears you’re living two lives. In one of these lives, you’re Thomas Anderson. You’re a program writer for a respectable software company. You have a social security number. You pay taxes. You even take out your landlady’s garbage. In the other life, you’re alias hacker Neo. You’re guilty of virtually every computer crime we have a law for. One of these lives has a future. The other does not.”
-Agent Smith from “The Matrix”-
October 9, 2014
Savages
MOVIE TITLE: Savages
GENRE: Crime Thriller
RATING: R for graphic violence, gore, language, and sexual content (including rape)
GRADE: Pass
In the beautiful sunset strip of California, life is equally beautiful for Ophelia and her two lovers, a marine named Chon and a pacifist named Ben. The three of them grow marijuana out of their own greenhouse, peddle it, and smoke it while having the most mind-blowing sex imaginable. If life was really this heavenly 24/7, then Savages would have been a soft snooze fest.
It so happens a Mexican cartel run by the ruthless Elena Sanchez wants a cut of Chon, Ben, and Ophelia’s profits. When the cartel doesn’t get what they want, they kidnap Ophelia and bend the wills of Chon and Ben by threatening to kill and torture her. The two marijuana dealers have to pull every favor they’ve banked to both do business with and fight back against the cartel.
If you know anything about how brutal Mexican cartels can be, then you can appreciate the difficulty level of what Chon and Ben are trying to achieve. These gangsters will slash, rape, shoot, and immolate their way to a higher profit and they don’t care whose blood they spread across the desert sands. The title Savages could be a reference to the violence and hatred Elena Sanchez’s cartel brings to every battle.
Or the title Savages could refer to what Chon and Ben must become in order to do combat with these mafia thugs and live to tell about it. If the latter is the case, then they can’t just be an ex-marine and a lover-boy respectively; they have to be homicidal lunatics with their business and combat tactics. All of this gore and all of these guts over a beautiful woman who doesn’t deserve the draconian living conditions she’s placed under.
There are many reasons why somebody would like this movie. If you have a fetish for gore, that’s one reason. If you like to be frightened, the cartel gangsters can hook you up (maybe that’s not the best figure of speech). If you like a good story where the lead characters have to go through hell in order to earn their happy ending, then goddamn it, Savages has all of that for you. If you want to see some hardcore sex scenes, then Savages could be an iffy deal for you since the consensual scenes are brief and the rape scenes are disgusting. If you take a huge interest in gang culture, then this movie will give you paranoid thoughts about moving to either California or Mexico.
There’s something in this movie for everybody provided they’re at least 18 years old and are not genetically predisposed to psychological trauma. The chain whippings, blood splatters, fiery explosions, eyeball pops, limb slashes, body burnings, forced sex, and even Elena Sanchez’s slap across Ophelia’s face can all attest to how important movie ratings are.
GENRE: Crime Thriller
RATING: R for graphic violence, gore, language, and sexual content (including rape)
GRADE: Pass
In the beautiful sunset strip of California, life is equally beautiful for Ophelia and her two lovers, a marine named Chon and a pacifist named Ben. The three of them grow marijuana out of their own greenhouse, peddle it, and smoke it while having the most mind-blowing sex imaginable. If life was really this heavenly 24/7, then Savages would have been a soft snooze fest.
It so happens a Mexican cartel run by the ruthless Elena Sanchez wants a cut of Chon, Ben, and Ophelia’s profits. When the cartel doesn’t get what they want, they kidnap Ophelia and bend the wills of Chon and Ben by threatening to kill and torture her. The two marijuana dealers have to pull every favor they’ve banked to both do business with and fight back against the cartel.
If you know anything about how brutal Mexican cartels can be, then you can appreciate the difficulty level of what Chon and Ben are trying to achieve. These gangsters will slash, rape, shoot, and immolate their way to a higher profit and they don’t care whose blood they spread across the desert sands. The title Savages could be a reference to the violence and hatred Elena Sanchez’s cartel brings to every battle.
Or the title Savages could refer to what Chon and Ben must become in order to do combat with these mafia thugs and live to tell about it. If the latter is the case, then they can’t just be an ex-marine and a lover-boy respectively; they have to be homicidal lunatics with their business and combat tactics. All of this gore and all of these guts over a beautiful woman who doesn’t deserve the draconian living conditions she’s placed under.
There are many reasons why somebody would like this movie. If you have a fetish for gore, that’s one reason. If you like to be frightened, the cartel gangsters can hook you up (maybe that’s not the best figure of speech). If you like a good story where the lead characters have to go through hell in order to earn their happy ending, then goddamn it, Savages has all of that for you. If you want to see some hardcore sex scenes, then Savages could be an iffy deal for you since the consensual scenes are brief and the rape scenes are disgusting. If you take a huge interest in gang culture, then this movie will give you paranoid thoughts about moving to either California or Mexico.
There’s something in this movie for everybody provided they’re at least 18 years old and are not genetically predisposed to psychological trauma. The chain whippings, blood splatters, fiery explosions, eyeball pops, limb slashes, body burnings, forced sex, and even Elena Sanchez’s slap across Ophelia’s face can all attest to how important movie ratings are.
October 5, 2014
Vooga
Let’s try a little English language exercise today before we get started. Take any kind of dangerous word and put it in front of “Mafia”. We get things like Fireball Mafia, Cutthroat Mafia, Rhino Skull Mafia, and the subject of today’s character analysis: The Copperhead Mafia. There, wasn’t that fun? It’s probably a lot more fun than getting your ass kicked by the Copperhead Mafia, especially when that beat down involves the leader of the group: Vooga.
Vooga is a stereotypical Cult of Personality villain in the sense he has his minions do all of his dirty work and he wants to control everything around him. He has so many minions they could technically all overthrow him and he wouldn’t matter. That would be ideal if it wasn’t for one small detail. The movie script Vooga was a part of was a dark fantasy western called Texas Technique and in this canon necromancy is popular among villains. Since Vooga is a necromancer himself with a snake motif, he could throw a poisonous bone spear through the ribs of anybody who opposed him. Or if his opponent was an undead creature, Vooga could manipulate that being into torturous positions until boredom hit like a punch to the face. Given his reputation for sadism, it could take entire lifetimes before he got bored of torturing his undead victims, or even his live ones.
Pissing off this ophidian necromancer can lead to apocalyptic results, especially when the sin in question is stealing a magical red sphere of blood that can transform into any weapon the user wants. Ronan Duran, an undead cowboy who stole the weapon in the first place, is at the top of Vooga’s shit list. Remember what I said about necromancers being able to torture and twist undead creatures whenever they want? Well, since Ronan happens to be one of them and also happens to be the main hero of Texas Technique, he’s definitely going to go through hell if he wants to earn his ending. Ronan could be set on fire, electrocuted, poisoned, or Vooga could crumple him up like a piece of paper and throw him like a fetch toy for one of his giant wolf minions.
Vooga can have endless hours of fun at the expense of whoever he wants. There’s just one thing standing in his way: he actually has to go out and find these people, because his minions keep getting their asses kicked. It’s almost as if Vooga is the M. Bison of the dark fantasy wild west. He’s all powerful and all knowing, but he’s too lazy to do his own heavy lifting. When you get lazy, you get complacent. The longer you stay complacent, the easier it is for your opponent to kill you. Because Vooga is the head villain of Texas Technique and the good guys always win, he is eventually overcome with holy magic and shrivels up into a pile of dust and snake skin.
Every dark fantasy story can put a Cult of Personality to good use, especially if that Cult of Personality wants to conquer everything around him. But I think that if I use Vooga again, he’ll do all his own heavy lifting from now on. After all, if you want something done right, do it yourself. Yes, it’s nice to have a maid to rub your aching scales and a butler to cook your undead flesh like a rare steak. However, with lazy villains, they can just as easily go back to having nothing in the blink of an eye. If UFC fighter and fan villain Michael Bisping got somebody else to get in the cage for him, he wouldn’t have the journeyman record and legendary status he has today. Vooga can learn something from the hard work and evil ways of Mr. Bisping.
***DOMESTIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***
“Nobody wants to see the Flintstones get brutally murdered.”
-Susan Wilson-
Vooga is a stereotypical Cult of Personality villain in the sense he has his minions do all of his dirty work and he wants to control everything around him. He has so many minions they could technically all overthrow him and he wouldn’t matter. That would be ideal if it wasn’t for one small detail. The movie script Vooga was a part of was a dark fantasy western called Texas Technique and in this canon necromancy is popular among villains. Since Vooga is a necromancer himself with a snake motif, he could throw a poisonous bone spear through the ribs of anybody who opposed him. Or if his opponent was an undead creature, Vooga could manipulate that being into torturous positions until boredom hit like a punch to the face. Given his reputation for sadism, it could take entire lifetimes before he got bored of torturing his undead victims, or even his live ones.
Pissing off this ophidian necromancer can lead to apocalyptic results, especially when the sin in question is stealing a magical red sphere of blood that can transform into any weapon the user wants. Ronan Duran, an undead cowboy who stole the weapon in the first place, is at the top of Vooga’s shit list. Remember what I said about necromancers being able to torture and twist undead creatures whenever they want? Well, since Ronan happens to be one of them and also happens to be the main hero of Texas Technique, he’s definitely going to go through hell if he wants to earn his ending. Ronan could be set on fire, electrocuted, poisoned, or Vooga could crumple him up like a piece of paper and throw him like a fetch toy for one of his giant wolf minions.
Vooga can have endless hours of fun at the expense of whoever he wants. There’s just one thing standing in his way: he actually has to go out and find these people, because his minions keep getting their asses kicked. It’s almost as if Vooga is the M. Bison of the dark fantasy wild west. He’s all powerful and all knowing, but he’s too lazy to do his own heavy lifting. When you get lazy, you get complacent. The longer you stay complacent, the easier it is for your opponent to kill you. Because Vooga is the head villain of Texas Technique and the good guys always win, he is eventually overcome with holy magic and shrivels up into a pile of dust and snake skin.
Every dark fantasy story can put a Cult of Personality to good use, especially if that Cult of Personality wants to conquer everything around him. But I think that if I use Vooga again, he’ll do all his own heavy lifting from now on. After all, if you want something done right, do it yourself. Yes, it’s nice to have a maid to rub your aching scales and a butler to cook your undead flesh like a rare steak. However, with lazy villains, they can just as easily go back to having nothing in the blink of an eye. If UFC fighter and fan villain Michael Bisping got somebody else to get in the cage for him, he wouldn’t have the journeyman record and legendary status he has today. Vooga can learn something from the hard work and evil ways of Mr. Bisping.
***DOMESTIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***
“Nobody wants to see the Flintstones get brutally murdered.”
-Susan Wilson-
October 2, 2014
The Simpsons Treehouse of Horror
SERIES TITLE: The Simpsons Treehouse of Horror
GENRE: Animated Horror Comedy
RATING: TV-PG for strong violence, mild language, black humor, and disturbing moments
GRADE: Pass
Anytime I browse the internet looking for a conversation about The Simpsons, it seems as though there’s always a raucous debate going on about whether or not the animated series is funny. People say it was funny in the 90’s but not after that. Others say it stood the test of time. Something definitely happened to the series when time transitioned from the 1990’s to the 2000’s and 2010’s. The style of humor is different, that’s for sure. But the one thing about The Simpsons that will remain a constant is the yearly Halloween episodes aptly called The Treehouse of Horror series.
In a regular Simpsons episode, you can expect zaniness and quirkiness throughout all 30 minutes. In a Treehouse of Horror episode, you’d better be wearing dark pants with a diaper underneath. Every episode is 30 minutes of something TV Tropes calls Nightmare Fuel. May God send a lightning bolt through my body if I’m lying. My skin isn’t crispy and my hair isn’t black, so I must be telling the truth.
The Nightmare Fuel begins with the music. During the opening sequence, the regular Simpsons theme is done in a slow and creepy whistle with dramatic symphonic music in the background. During the closing credits, the music is faster and closer to the real Simpsons theme, but it’s done with the creepy whistle yet again and this time either a church organ or harpsichord, depending on the episode. While you’re listening to this music, you somehow get the feeling there are monsters in your house waiting to chomp you like spaghetti and meatballs. It’s a haunted feeling and you will be disturbed by it.
After the end credits are over, we go to the Gracie Films logo. The variation differs from episode to episode, but it’s generally always been the same. Instead of a gentle shushing noise, it’s a woman giving off a high-pitched, blood-curdling death scream. Instead of a soothing electric piano, the Gracie Films theme is played on a church organ and in a minor key. Every year when I watch the end credits, my heart races and my blood goes cold in anticipation for this Gracie Films spoof. It’s that creepy.
The couch gags from the first ten Treehouse of Horror episodes are nothing to be comfortable around either. They started using couch gags in the third annual episode, which showed The Simpson family as skeletons. The episode after that showed them as bloodthirsty zombies. The sixth Treehouse of Horror might be the scariest as it shows the Simpsons being lynched with their necks snapped and their eyes crossed. When the next shot after the couch gag shows opening credits on the TV, it puts the point of view directly in front of the monstrous versions of the Simpson family. Which means they’re right behind you. If you don’t have your head on a swivel, you’re going to be zombie chow. Watch your back before Bart plants a dagger in it or Homer takes a bite out of your shoulder.
These aspects of the show are scary enough on their own. But let’s not forget the bulk of every episode is the three stories within them. These episodes are so bloody and gory that you’ll need a rowboat to navigate the sets. The monsters are so ugly and hideous that you might die of vomiting yourself dry before they get a chance to eat you. That zany and ridiculous humor you were counting on in the regular episodes? We’re getting a little darker with that, so dark that Anthony Jeselnik, George Carlin (RIP), and Daniel Tosh would all need Xanax to combat their nightmares. Good thing dark comedians have a high salary, because it’s all going to therapy.
Commonsense would dictate that anybody who wants to have a functioning heart or a hair color other than white would stay away from these episodes of The Simpsons. Every year, these episodes disturb the shit out of me, more so than any legitimate horror movie like Nightmare on Elm Street, Friday the 13th, or Poltergeist. If you can take a whacky comedy series and turn it into a Nightmare Fuel station, you’ve got some serious skills. Despite being horrified by these episodes, I look forward to them every year and I sit down to watch them. I will say this, though: despite receiving a passing grade tonight, the Treehouse of Horror franchise went from being horrifying to darkly funny over the past two plus decades. There is some legitimacy in that argument. But you know what? I always keep my black athletic pants in my closet for such an occasion.
GENRE: Animated Horror Comedy
RATING: TV-PG for strong violence, mild language, black humor, and disturbing moments
GRADE: Pass
Anytime I browse the internet looking for a conversation about The Simpsons, it seems as though there’s always a raucous debate going on about whether or not the animated series is funny. People say it was funny in the 90’s but not after that. Others say it stood the test of time. Something definitely happened to the series when time transitioned from the 1990’s to the 2000’s and 2010’s. The style of humor is different, that’s for sure. But the one thing about The Simpsons that will remain a constant is the yearly Halloween episodes aptly called The Treehouse of Horror series.
In a regular Simpsons episode, you can expect zaniness and quirkiness throughout all 30 minutes. In a Treehouse of Horror episode, you’d better be wearing dark pants with a diaper underneath. Every episode is 30 minutes of something TV Tropes calls Nightmare Fuel. May God send a lightning bolt through my body if I’m lying. My skin isn’t crispy and my hair isn’t black, so I must be telling the truth.
The Nightmare Fuel begins with the music. During the opening sequence, the regular Simpsons theme is done in a slow and creepy whistle with dramatic symphonic music in the background. During the closing credits, the music is faster and closer to the real Simpsons theme, but it’s done with the creepy whistle yet again and this time either a church organ or harpsichord, depending on the episode. While you’re listening to this music, you somehow get the feeling there are monsters in your house waiting to chomp you like spaghetti and meatballs. It’s a haunted feeling and you will be disturbed by it.
After the end credits are over, we go to the Gracie Films logo. The variation differs from episode to episode, but it’s generally always been the same. Instead of a gentle shushing noise, it’s a woman giving off a high-pitched, blood-curdling death scream. Instead of a soothing electric piano, the Gracie Films theme is played on a church organ and in a minor key. Every year when I watch the end credits, my heart races and my blood goes cold in anticipation for this Gracie Films spoof. It’s that creepy.
The couch gags from the first ten Treehouse of Horror episodes are nothing to be comfortable around either. They started using couch gags in the third annual episode, which showed The Simpson family as skeletons. The episode after that showed them as bloodthirsty zombies. The sixth Treehouse of Horror might be the scariest as it shows the Simpsons being lynched with their necks snapped and their eyes crossed. When the next shot after the couch gag shows opening credits on the TV, it puts the point of view directly in front of the monstrous versions of the Simpson family. Which means they’re right behind you. If you don’t have your head on a swivel, you’re going to be zombie chow. Watch your back before Bart plants a dagger in it or Homer takes a bite out of your shoulder.
These aspects of the show are scary enough on their own. But let’s not forget the bulk of every episode is the three stories within them. These episodes are so bloody and gory that you’ll need a rowboat to navigate the sets. The monsters are so ugly and hideous that you might die of vomiting yourself dry before they get a chance to eat you. That zany and ridiculous humor you were counting on in the regular episodes? We’re getting a little darker with that, so dark that Anthony Jeselnik, George Carlin (RIP), and Daniel Tosh would all need Xanax to combat their nightmares. Good thing dark comedians have a high salary, because it’s all going to therapy.
Commonsense would dictate that anybody who wants to have a functioning heart or a hair color other than white would stay away from these episodes of The Simpsons. Every year, these episodes disturb the shit out of me, more so than any legitimate horror movie like Nightmare on Elm Street, Friday the 13th, or Poltergeist. If you can take a whacky comedy series and turn it into a Nightmare Fuel station, you’ve got some serious skills. Despite being horrified by these episodes, I look forward to them every year and I sit down to watch them. I will say this, though: despite receiving a passing grade tonight, the Treehouse of Horror franchise went from being horrifying to darkly funny over the past two plus decades. There is some legitimacy in that argument. But you know what? I always keep my black athletic pants in my closet for such an occasion.
October 1, 2014
"So Long" by Saliva
It seems as though every time I write a blog entry about one of my favorite songs, there are several recurring themes: regret, loss of friendship, trauma, loneliness, depression, anger, madness, god knows what else. It would appear this entry about “So Long” by Saliva is more of the same. I listened to this song a lot in college because it was there to comfort me when I was lonely. Nobody to come visit me in my dorm, no family to be around, no animals to take care of, just me and the soothing vocals of Josey Scott, who’s normally known for being a badass redneck on the microphone. He and Saliva write this one song together and the waterworks are almost there once again.
You’ve been reading my blog for a long time and I appreciate that. But I sense you’re getting tired of the constant themes of sadness and anger. It feels monotonous. If it ever does feel that way to you, it’s because my life is monotonous. I wake up, put my time in on the computer, go shopping, and go back to bed. Rinse, lather, repeat. Rinse, lather, repeat. Nothing changes. I could make some changes myself if I wanted to. I could stop being afraid of the consequences of stress. I could take driving lessons and not be dependent on others. I could get a part time job doing something I actually enjoy. While there are forces in place that keep me from changing my life, most if it is because I’m afraid of being stressed out to where I can’t take it anymore.
“Pushing forward in reverse, it gets better then it gets worse, I’m tied for last place when you taught me to be first.” You know what that phrase means to me and my monotonous life? It means I have all of these creative skills and yet I don’t use them in a way that moves my life forward. Yeah, I can self-publish all the e-books I want. I can write as many blog entries as I want. I can draw all the cartoonish pictures I want. If nobody notices, I’m merely kidding myself when it comes to the American Dream coming true. My career is at a crossroads right now. I have both the fear of being noticed and not being noticed. One of these roads leads to boredom. The other could lead to humiliation and vilification.
“So long. When will I see you again? It’s been so long I don’t know where to begin.” That’s the question I pose to all of you right now. When will I see you again? What do I have to do to see you again? What could I possibly do for you that will grab your attention and never let go? Do you want to be showered in compliments? I can be sweet if you want me to. In fact, being sweet has gotten me to great heights in my life. The fact still remains it’s not enough to be a good person. Then again, if being a villain is what it takes to move my life forward, then I don’t want that either.
If you’re looking for a song to be there for you when you’re down, try “So Long” by Saliva. It won’t judge you. It may hurt for a little while, but then again, you’re already fucked up in the head anyways. You’ve probably gone insane from doing the same thing every day and expecting different results. That’s okay, I have too. Then again, I don’t know what about my game needs to change for things to happen. Should I be more open with the people I meet? Should I talk to people and hope at least one of those people has the keys to the kingdom? If I ever get those keys, what door do I have to unlock? If this ever feels like your own thought process, go to iTunes and get this song.
***MOVIE QUOTE OF THE DAY***
“If I’m curt with you, it’s because time is a factor. I think fast, I talk fast, and you guys had better act fast if you want to get yourselves out of this. So pretty please with sugar on top, clean the fucking car.”
-Winston Wolf from “Pulp Fiction”-
You’ve been reading my blog for a long time and I appreciate that. But I sense you’re getting tired of the constant themes of sadness and anger. It feels monotonous. If it ever does feel that way to you, it’s because my life is monotonous. I wake up, put my time in on the computer, go shopping, and go back to bed. Rinse, lather, repeat. Rinse, lather, repeat. Nothing changes. I could make some changes myself if I wanted to. I could stop being afraid of the consequences of stress. I could take driving lessons and not be dependent on others. I could get a part time job doing something I actually enjoy. While there are forces in place that keep me from changing my life, most if it is because I’m afraid of being stressed out to where I can’t take it anymore.
“Pushing forward in reverse, it gets better then it gets worse, I’m tied for last place when you taught me to be first.” You know what that phrase means to me and my monotonous life? It means I have all of these creative skills and yet I don’t use them in a way that moves my life forward. Yeah, I can self-publish all the e-books I want. I can write as many blog entries as I want. I can draw all the cartoonish pictures I want. If nobody notices, I’m merely kidding myself when it comes to the American Dream coming true. My career is at a crossroads right now. I have both the fear of being noticed and not being noticed. One of these roads leads to boredom. The other could lead to humiliation and vilification.
“So long. When will I see you again? It’s been so long I don’t know where to begin.” That’s the question I pose to all of you right now. When will I see you again? What do I have to do to see you again? What could I possibly do for you that will grab your attention and never let go? Do you want to be showered in compliments? I can be sweet if you want me to. In fact, being sweet has gotten me to great heights in my life. The fact still remains it’s not enough to be a good person. Then again, if being a villain is what it takes to move my life forward, then I don’t want that either.
If you’re looking for a song to be there for you when you’re down, try “So Long” by Saliva. It won’t judge you. It may hurt for a little while, but then again, you’re already fucked up in the head anyways. You’ve probably gone insane from doing the same thing every day and expecting different results. That’s okay, I have too. Then again, I don’t know what about my game needs to change for things to happen. Should I be more open with the people I meet? Should I talk to people and hope at least one of those people has the keys to the kingdom? If I ever get those keys, what door do I have to unlock? If this ever feels like your own thought process, go to iTunes and get this song.
***MOVIE QUOTE OF THE DAY***
“If I’m curt with you, it’s because time is a factor. I think fast, I talk fast, and you guys had better act fast if you want to get yourselves out of this. So pretty please with sugar on top, clean the fucking car.”
-Winston Wolf from “Pulp Fiction”-
September 25, 2014
Lionel Casey
When I first heard the male name Lionel existed, it was the late 90’s and I was really into The Thundercats. I previously watched it when I was a baby in the 80’s, but about a decade later, Cartoon Network was showing it on their Toonami programming block. It was your typical 80’s action cartoon: badass fighting and piss-poor dialogue. The latter of the two keeps me from watching it as an adult.
But as a middle schooler, Thundercats was my own version of Sunday mass. When I saw Lion-O swinging his Sword of Omens on TV, he was my equivalent of Jesus Christ. Lion-O and Lionel were the same thing to me at the time and now I want to continue that tradition with this latest unemployed character, Lionel Casey.
Oddly enough, I didn’t intend for Lionel to be a Thundercats parody. I had two different roles lined up for him: one as a heavyweight MMA fighter and one as a shooting game character. As the former, his leonine beard and ursine muscles are the sole reason why his opponents should wear diapers to the octagon instead of shorts with “Condom Depot” printed on the ass.
As the latter, he’s comparable to Gorge from the Unreal Championship series. In other words, not only is he a giant among pixies, but he has a fucking rocket launcher. Why does a fee-fie-foe-fum giant need a long range weapon that can blow up a whole building? Don’t his punches and kicks do that enough already? When he’s in MMA, does he really win his matches by knocking his opponents up and over the cage?
Look on the bright side, Mr. Casey: if you don’t get used as a badass warrior, you could always be the model for the MGM movie logo. It’s bad enough moviegoers have to be greeted by a roaring lion who could quite possibly eat them in one or two bites. But what about Lionel Casey? What if his bearded face ended up on that logo? In so many ways, that would be worse.
Having that sociopathic monster give you the death stare might actually be scarier than the Gracie Films logo at the end of every Simpsons Treehouse of Horror episode. Maybe that’s why the shush lady likes to scream every October: because Lionel Casey is in the same theater as her. Where in the theater is anybody’s guess. He could be hiding in the trash bin. He could be underneath the lady’s seat waiting to pounce. Or he could be shown on the movie screen as the MGM logo mascot. I can be so sadistic sometimes!
I have a lot of action-packed roles Lionel Casey could be a part of. I’m also currently writing a dark fantasy novel called Fireball Nightmare. You’re probably asking yourself why I’m not using Lionel as part of that novel’s character roster. I’m mainly writing Fireball Nightmare for nostalgic purposes. The characters who have made the cut are ones I’ve used in past pieces of fiction and have had the greatest impact on my audience.
For my friends Kenny Flynn, James Howell, and Robert Hatfield, my barbarian Deus Shadowheart and my sadistic scientist Dr. Scott Cain are household names. For Heather Woody and TJ Johnson, Brutus Warcry is a Dungeons & Dragons character they’re used to hanging around. For my brother James Haines-Temons, Charles Goodhorn was also a Dungeons & Dragons character he’s most familiar with. Lionel Casey is a fresh face and this profile is the only exposure he’s had so far. Guys like Deus, Dr. Cain, and Brutus are the WWE Raw and Smackdown to Lionel Casey’s WWE NXT. Sorry, Lionel. You’ve got a lot to learn before I use you in a story.
***WRESTLING JOKE OF THE DAY***
Q: Why doesn’t Alberto Del Rio like driving in traffic?
A: He can never get over.
But as a middle schooler, Thundercats was my own version of Sunday mass. When I saw Lion-O swinging his Sword of Omens on TV, he was my equivalent of Jesus Christ. Lion-O and Lionel were the same thing to me at the time and now I want to continue that tradition with this latest unemployed character, Lionel Casey.
Oddly enough, I didn’t intend for Lionel to be a Thundercats parody. I had two different roles lined up for him: one as a heavyweight MMA fighter and one as a shooting game character. As the former, his leonine beard and ursine muscles are the sole reason why his opponents should wear diapers to the octagon instead of shorts with “Condom Depot” printed on the ass.
As the latter, he’s comparable to Gorge from the Unreal Championship series. In other words, not only is he a giant among pixies, but he has a fucking rocket launcher. Why does a fee-fie-foe-fum giant need a long range weapon that can blow up a whole building? Don’t his punches and kicks do that enough already? When he’s in MMA, does he really win his matches by knocking his opponents up and over the cage?
Look on the bright side, Mr. Casey: if you don’t get used as a badass warrior, you could always be the model for the MGM movie logo. It’s bad enough moviegoers have to be greeted by a roaring lion who could quite possibly eat them in one or two bites. But what about Lionel Casey? What if his bearded face ended up on that logo? In so many ways, that would be worse.
Having that sociopathic monster give you the death stare might actually be scarier than the Gracie Films logo at the end of every Simpsons Treehouse of Horror episode. Maybe that’s why the shush lady likes to scream every October: because Lionel Casey is in the same theater as her. Where in the theater is anybody’s guess. He could be hiding in the trash bin. He could be underneath the lady’s seat waiting to pounce. Or he could be shown on the movie screen as the MGM logo mascot. I can be so sadistic sometimes!
I have a lot of action-packed roles Lionel Casey could be a part of. I’m also currently writing a dark fantasy novel called Fireball Nightmare. You’re probably asking yourself why I’m not using Lionel as part of that novel’s character roster. I’m mainly writing Fireball Nightmare for nostalgic purposes. The characters who have made the cut are ones I’ve used in past pieces of fiction and have had the greatest impact on my audience.
For my friends Kenny Flynn, James Howell, and Robert Hatfield, my barbarian Deus Shadowheart and my sadistic scientist Dr. Scott Cain are household names. For Heather Woody and TJ Johnson, Brutus Warcry is a Dungeons & Dragons character they’re used to hanging around. For my brother James Haines-Temons, Charles Goodhorn was also a Dungeons & Dragons character he’s most familiar with. Lionel Casey is a fresh face and this profile is the only exposure he’s had so far. Guys like Deus, Dr. Cain, and Brutus are the WWE Raw and Smackdown to Lionel Casey’s WWE NXT. Sorry, Lionel. You’ve got a lot to learn before I use you in a story.
***WRESTLING JOKE OF THE DAY***
Q: Why doesn’t Alberto Del Rio like driving in traffic?
A: He can never get over.
September 23, 2014
Real Time with Bill Maher Review
TITLE: Real Time with Bill Maher
GENRE: Political Debate and Comedy
RATING: TV-MA for strong language
GRADE: Depends on the episode
As I write this review for my lovely audience, I don’t want any of you to think this is me putting the boots to Bill Maher. I have a lot of respect for him both as a comedian and as a political commentator. In case you haven’t figured it out from my internet postings over the years, I have very strong liberal beliefs. In 2004, I voted for John Kerry and in 2008 and 2012, I voted for Barack Obama. Naturally, I agree with the things Bill Maher says almost 90% of the time. I especially enjoyed what he had to say about the recent police brutality incidents going on all over the country.
As far as his talk show goes, it’s not Bill Maher himself who makes or breaks each episode. It’s his fucking guests. Some episodes, his guests are polite and have great conversational chemistry together, and that goes for both liberal and conservative guests. Despite being on the opposite side of the political fence as him, I actually think Steve Schmidt, John McCain’s campaign advisor, carries himself in a calm, intelligent, and respectful way and having him on the show is always good to see.
And then there are those episodes where the guests are at each other’s throats like it’s an episode of WWE Smackdown. You know the guests I’m talking about: always interrupting each other, always talking loudly, always saying rude shit, and in some cases always taunting the audience. Does anybody remember the episode where Christopher Hitchens flipped off the audience? How about the ones where Dana Rorabacher created a sonic boom with his dialogue alone.
While it is true there are more rude conservative guests than liberal ones, there are liberal guests who are capable of holding Bill Maher’s show hostage. Gary Schandling answered his fucking cell phone in the middle of a political discussion. Roseanne Barr had more dialogue in one show than most guests have in multiple episodes. The biggest example of a show hostage taker is one I know I’m going to regret saying, mostly because he recently committed suicide. I’m talking about Robin Williams, who on one episode interrupted everybody with random jokes and committed the mortal sin of interrupting Bill Maher’s New Rules segment.
Bottom line: it’s not just being liberal or conservative that can make a guest annoying. It’s the way that guest presents himself on television to an audience who really just wants to see Bill Maher pop off jokes. The problem with his show is most of the time he invites crazy guests who destroy the whole night for the audience. At that point, I’m not even sure if New Rules can make me laugh since I’m too angry from all the fighting among the guests.
Mr. Maher, I’m not saying this to be mean to you, I’m saying it to you as a fan and hopefully a friend someday. Have a filter for the people you invite on your show. Dana Rorabacher already ruined one show with his shrill screaming, so don’t bother inviting him back on the set. I could also tell you were getting sick of SE Cupp’s ageist jokes when you had PJ O’Rourke as the final guest. You probably invite these lunatics on your show as a way to boost ratings. Trust me, Bill, this is not the way to get high ratings. If you want a pro-wrestling example of bad TV gone even worse, I’ve got three letters for you: WCW.
GENRE: Political Debate and Comedy
RATING: TV-MA for strong language
GRADE: Depends on the episode
As I write this review for my lovely audience, I don’t want any of you to think this is me putting the boots to Bill Maher. I have a lot of respect for him both as a comedian and as a political commentator. In case you haven’t figured it out from my internet postings over the years, I have very strong liberal beliefs. In 2004, I voted for John Kerry and in 2008 and 2012, I voted for Barack Obama. Naturally, I agree with the things Bill Maher says almost 90% of the time. I especially enjoyed what he had to say about the recent police brutality incidents going on all over the country.
As far as his talk show goes, it’s not Bill Maher himself who makes or breaks each episode. It’s his fucking guests. Some episodes, his guests are polite and have great conversational chemistry together, and that goes for both liberal and conservative guests. Despite being on the opposite side of the political fence as him, I actually think Steve Schmidt, John McCain’s campaign advisor, carries himself in a calm, intelligent, and respectful way and having him on the show is always good to see.
And then there are those episodes where the guests are at each other’s throats like it’s an episode of WWE Smackdown. You know the guests I’m talking about: always interrupting each other, always talking loudly, always saying rude shit, and in some cases always taunting the audience. Does anybody remember the episode where Christopher Hitchens flipped off the audience? How about the ones where Dana Rorabacher created a sonic boom with his dialogue alone.
While it is true there are more rude conservative guests than liberal ones, there are liberal guests who are capable of holding Bill Maher’s show hostage. Gary Schandling answered his fucking cell phone in the middle of a political discussion. Roseanne Barr had more dialogue in one show than most guests have in multiple episodes. The biggest example of a show hostage taker is one I know I’m going to regret saying, mostly because he recently committed suicide. I’m talking about Robin Williams, who on one episode interrupted everybody with random jokes and committed the mortal sin of interrupting Bill Maher’s New Rules segment.
Bottom line: it’s not just being liberal or conservative that can make a guest annoying. It’s the way that guest presents himself on television to an audience who really just wants to see Bill Maher pop off jokes. The problem with his show is most of the time he invites crazy guests who destroy the whole night for the audience. At that point, I’m not even sure if New Rules can make me laugh since I’m too angry from all the fighting among the guests.
Mr. Maher, I’m not saying this to be mean to you, I’m saying it to you as a fan and hopefully a friend someday. Have a filter for the people you invite on your show. Dana Rorabacher already ruined one show with his shrill screaming, so don’t bother inviting him back on the set. I could also tell you were getting sick of SE Cupp’s ageist jokes when you had PJ O’Rourke as the final guest. You probably invite these lunatics on your show as a way to boost ratings. Trust me, Bill, this is not the way to get high ratings. If you want a pro-wrestling example of bad TV gone even worse, I’ve got three letters for you: WCW.
September 19, 2014
"Never Blame the Rainbows" by The Moody Blues
“And never blame the rainbows for the rain. And learn to forget the memories that caused you pain.” Never mind Justin Hayward or John Lodge for a moment. Imagine if somebody you loved said those words to you. Imagine the person closest to your heart giving you permission to let go of your stress and fall in love with life again.
While I haven’t had anybody say these words to me other than Justin Hayward, I am very grateful to hear them. I’ve used those lyrics as an anthem for recovering from schizophrenia in the early 2000’s. It wasn’t about intrusive voices trying to establish authority over me. It was about the past coming back to haunt me in the form of present day ghosts. Thank you, Justin, for giving me permission to let go.
Lord knows I’ve had plenty of short story and novel characters go through the worst kind of traumatic shit over the course of their lives. Hell, the first story of American Darkness is called “And Now I Speak Hate”. It’s about a male rape victim who tries to listen to reason, but ends up shattering a mirror with his fist instead. The story after that is “Angel Rape”. Would anybody like to take a guess as to what that story is about? Ding, ding, ding! Male rape!
A few stories later, it’s off to Iraq and Afghanistan with “Desert Dragons”, where two female soldiers get relentlessly raped and then desert their squadron because of it. Do you think any of these lead characters need Justin Hayward singing “Never Blame the Rainbows” in their ears? It wouldn’t be a bad idea. Don’t worry about me, I wasn’t raped myself, but I’ve had enough bad shit go on in my life that I felt powerless after all of it.
I’m not saying this song will cure you from whatever mental illness ails you. It will instead comfort you. It will give you the hope and courage you need to move on. Let’s face it: whenever mental illness strikes, hope is in short supply. In fact, the brain will create an illusion to the victim that hope is nonexistent except in fairy tales and Hollywood movies.
The sooner the victim realizes it’s all smoke and mirrors, the faster the road to recovery will be. Sometimes it takes a kindred soul to tell you it’s all smoke and mirrors. It could be your mother, your father, your husband, your wife, or in this case, Justin Hayward, the lead guitarist from The Moody Blues.
The Moody Blues will not judge you. They are all about peace, love, and understanding. They haven’t written a mean lyric in their lives. I dare you to pick a Moody Blues song at random to see if I’m wrong about this. Or better yet, buy a copy of “Keys to the Kingdom” and fast forward to the final track. Or listen to the whole thing, which has a myriad of positive messages for a mentally ill listener.
Put those headphones on, lay down on your bed, and let the warmth of Justin Hayward’s voice wash over you. If nothing else, he’ll ignite your imagination long enough for you to experience what it’s like to have a fully functional mind, even if only for a few minutes. Imagination is very powerful, so much so it could be used in a weapon in the fight against whatever’s killing you inside. Okay, so The Moody Blues aren’t all about war analogies, but you get what I’m saying, right? At least I hope you do.
If it hadn’t been for the “Keys to the Kingdom” album and the song “Never Blame the Rainbows” in particular, I wouldn’t have any way of telling my internet girlfriend at the time Jessica how I was still alive and would be for a long time despite the hardships. There was a time when I wanted to end it all and part of the reason I didn’t is because I borrowed this CD from my dad’s music collection. I’m sure he’d like to have it back someday before he turns 80, but him sharing his taste in music with me is very much appreciated.
Jessica seemed to get the message that everything was indeed going to be okay and that I would eventually become a (sort of) famous author one day. Even when my writing was at its rookie worst, Jessica believed in me anyways. That’s one of the reasons why I’ll always cherish the time we spent talking to each other online. Unfortunately, we’re not together anymore, but the memories are indeed fond ones. Thank you, Moody Blues, for being a part of those memories.
***POLITICAL QUOTE OF THE DAY***
“Humans do some really interesting things. Besides killing ourselves, we also kill each other. Murder. We’re the only ones who do that, by the way. We’re the only species on earth that deliberately kills members of our own species for personal gain. Or pleasure, sometimes it’s just fun. We’re also the only species on earth that deliberately kills members of another species for personal gain. Or pleasure, that’s what hunters do, they kill for pleasure. That’s us: human beings, interesting folks, murderers.”
-George Carlin-
While I haven’t had anybody say these words to me other than Justin Hayward, I am very grateful to hear them. I’ve used those lyrics as an anthem for recovering from schizophrenia in the early 2000’s. It wasn’t about intrusive voices trying to establish authority over me. It was about the past coming back to haunt me in the form of present day ghosts. Thank you, Justin, for giving me permission to let go.
Lord knows I’ve had plenty of short story and novel characters go through the worst kind of traumatic shit over the course of their lives. Hell, the first story of American Darkness is called “And Now I Speak Hate”. It’s about a male rape victim who tries to listen to reason, but ends up shattering a mirror with his fist instead. The story after that is “Angel Rape”. Would anybody like to take a guess as to what that story is about? Ding, ding, ding! Male rape!
A few stories later, it’s off to Iraq and Afghanistan with “Desert Dragons”, where two female soldiers get relentlessly raped and then desert their squadron because of it. Do you think any of these lead characters need Justin Hayward singing “Never Blame the Rainbows” in their ears? It wouldn’t be a bad idea. Don’t worry about me, I wasn’t raped myself, but I’ve had enough bad shit go on in my life that I felt powerless after all of it.
I’m not saying this song will cure you from whatever mental illness ails you. It will instead comfort you. It will give you the hope and courage you need to move on. Let’s face it: whenever mental illness strikes, hope is in short supply. In fact, the brain will create an illusion to the victim that hope is nonexistent except in fairy tales and Hollywood movies.
The sooner the victim realizes it’s all smoke and mirrors, the faster the road to recovery will be. Sometimes it takes a kindred soul to tell you it’s all smoke and mirrors. It could be your mother, your father, your husband, your wife, or in this case, Justin Hayward, the lead guitarist from The Moody Blues.
The Moody Blues will not judge you. They are all about peace, love, and understanding. They haven’t written a mean lyric in their lives. I dare you to pick a Moody Blues song at random to see if I’m wrong about this. Or better yet, buy a copy of “Keys to the Kingdom” and fast forward to the final track. Or listen to the whole thing, which has a myriad of positive messages for a mentally ill listener.
Put those headphones on, lay down on your bed, and let the warmth of Justin Hayward’s voice wash over you. If nothing else, he’ll ignite your imagination long enough for you to experience what it’s like to have a fully functional mind, even if only for a few minutes. Imagination is very powerful, so much so it could be used in a weapon in the fight against whatever’s killing you inside. Okay, so The Moody Blues aren’t all about war analogies, but you get what I’m saying, right? At least I hope you do.
If it hadn’t been for the “Keys to the Kingdom” album and the song “Never Blame the Rainbows” in particular, I wouldn’t have any way of telling my internet girlfriend at the time Jessica how I was still alive and would be for a long time despite the hardships. There was a time when I wanted to end it all and part of the reason I didn’t is because I borrowed this CD from my dad’s music collection. I’m sure he’d like to have it back someday before he turns 80, but him sharing his taste in music with me is very much appreciated.
Jessica seemed to get the message that everything was indeed going to be okay and that I would eventually become a (sort of) famous author one day. Even when my writing was at its rookie worst, Jessica believed in me anyways. That’s one of the reasons why I’ll always cherish the time we spent talking to each other online. Unfortunately, we’re not together anymore, but the memories are indeed fond ones. Thank you, Moody Blues, for being a part of those memories.
***POLITICAL QUOTE OF THE DAY***
“Humans do some really interesting things. Besides killing ourselves, we also kill each other. Murder. We’re the only ones who do that, by the way. We’re the only species on earth that deliberately kills members of our own species for personal gain. Or pleasure, sometimes it’s just fun. We’re also the only species on earth that deliberately kills members of another species for personal gain. Or pleasure, that’s what hunters do, they kill for pleasure. That’s us: human beings, interesting folks, murderers.”
-George Carlin-
