Thursday, December 30, 2010

Question: What are some of your favorite scenes from Christmas Specials/Movies?

Impossible to answer this one without spoilers, so consider yourself alerted.

The first thing to come to mind is that awesome Bill Murray rant at the end of Scrooged.  It's so chock full of Christmas spirit it makes me cry and laugh at the same time, which sometimes makes me puke, but that's not really important, now, is it?

That reminds me of the ending of It's a Wonderful Life, which also has a boat load of good-ass tidings.  Like, a lot of tidings; bushels of veritable tidings.

I like it in Black Christmas, when you get the sweet monster cam and all the effed up voices. All of those scenes are special.  Also, in Silent Night, Deadly Night, when the protagonist/antagonist yells, "Garbage day!" right after he kills the guy taking out the garbage.

The name Burgermeister Meisterburger from Santa Claus is Comin' to Town always makes me laugh.  I really like when Zooey Deschanel sings in the shower in Elf.  Almost every second scene from A Christmas Story is amazing (it's my favorite Christmas movie).  If I had to pick just one thing from it, I'd probably say the sequence where Ralphie gets in a fight and goes home and thinks he's going to be in big trouble from his dad. They really capture the dread of that childlike feeling when you're waiting for one of your parents to come home to scold (beat) you.  Instead, Ralphie's Mom (who hadn't had a hot meal in fifteen years) covers for him, and you feel his relief and the joy he experiences when he understands he's off the hook.

In the Grinch, when the title character rides the sled into the circle of Whos at the end, the circle opens like a gate, even though the gate is made up of a bunch of Whos wholding whands.  Sorry, Whos holding hands.

Right now, I can't recall if Charlie Brown says, "Good grief" in the Charlie Brown Christmas Special, but I'll assume he does.  I always like it when Charlie Brown says, "Good grief."

One last one.  In Blackadder's Christmas Carol, I like it when Rowan Atkinson says, "Baldrick, I want you to got out and buy a turkey so large you'd think its mother had been rogered by an omnibus."

Short Answer:  I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and I hope you have a glorious New Year full of all kinds of good stuff including, but not limited to, run on sentences!

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Question: If you were tasked with performing a Christmas miracle, what would it be?

In the spirit of the season, I will answer in the form of the twelve days of Christmas.  Actually, it's just twelve answers to the question.

12) Government transparency
11) No hungry people
10) Make Christopher Walken immortal.
9) Less murder for god
8) Release of an early, unseen film starring Salma Hayek, entitled, "We do chicks naked".
7) Spiders! Leave me alone!
6) Happiness for my girl.
5) Golden rings, baby.  Golden rings.
4) That whole Christmas cheer thing, where we're all nicer to each other?  Maybe a few more days of that every year.
3) Guilt and regret?  What the hell does that mean?  Never heard of it.  Not even in the dictionary.
2) Honest communication.
1) Perspective, bitches.

Short Answer: My number one Christmas miracle would be to give everyone a little more perspective, 'cause brother, it ain't never as bad as it seems.

Question: What is the perfect christmas gift for these three people: Stephen King, Jesus, Freddie Kruger? Why?

Perfect is a big, juicy word.  Just like there are few perfect people, there are few perfect presents.  A perfect present would be something I couldn't give, like no-cancer to someone who has cancer.

I'd like to think that Stephen King is a "man who has everything."  He seems like it.  Great career, happy life, successful kid, adoring fans, an impressive body of creative work.  He's a big Sox fan, but they finally won the world series, so I couldn't give him that.  He already had a true life horror experience with that whole nearly-killed-by-a-drunk-driver thing, so I wouldn't give him that.  I think what would be a great present for him, would be to show him, via time machine (naturally) how well-remembered his work will be in the future. It's not really a personal gift, but it's something a lot of people who devote their lives to creative endeavors would be damn curious about.  You know what, to hell with that.  If I had that time machine, I could set up some elaborate scenario where he caught a famous home run, or something.  Maybe even one he hits himself! Okay, maybe more ambitious than perfect.

Jesus, I would give wine.  That's easy.  Or, like, one fish, and be like, what?  That's like a million fish.  Or a snorkel.  Or a huge boulder.  Or a new shroud.  Or a dead Samaritan.  Or a haircut.  Seriously, though, I'd give him one of those foot spas, so when he washed the feet of his visitors, he wouldn't have to get his robes dirty and have a million people find the cloth and claim they have the imprints of the knees of Jesus Christ.

Freddy Krueger.  This one's easy.  What's better than four eighteen-year-olds?  Eighteen four-year-olds!  Distasteful?  Yes, most definitely.  Perfect?  You-betcha. (Freddy likes kids, in case this one isn't coming through clearly enough.)

Short Answer:  Bad dreams for Keith tonight...

Question: How would you sabotage Santa's operation?

I'd fuck Mrs.Clause.

Short Answer: I would never sabotage Santa's operation.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Question: Could you write a series of horror Haiku? (I am looking for four to five of them on the same theme.)

Lady with huge jugs
Carrying the entire film
Otherwise I'm bored

If dead looks could kill
My lips would breathe and crack wide
And silence would break

Drew Barrymore's boobs
Eighties film Doppelganger
Awesome blood shower

Try not to scream while
my fingers are in your mouth
you might wake the child

Skin in lumps, curdled
left out too long for dinner
roasted maggot stew

Short Answer: Yes. Yes I could. (The serious three are better than the funny two, I think. Hard to stay on theme; the word horror encompasses so much, my friend.)

Question: If we didn't know why the sky was blue, how would you explain it?

Smurf piss.

Short Answer: Les Schtroumpfs!

Question: Why do we trust science? Science, like religion, is perceived and understood by man who is marred and shabby and imperfect, so why do you think people seem to trust the man in the lab coat rather than the man in the robes, though neither can claim perfection?

Last time I checked, the men in the robes were still rockin' some pretty intense levels of attendance; to the point that I think it is unsafe to say that people seem to trust the man in the lab coat over the man in the robe.  Not just belief, or even vague spirituality; I'm talking hard numbers of devout practitioners of big-O organized religion.  Beyond that, the answer is simple.  The people who trust in science are the kind of people who like to see proof. The people who lean the other way don't think that's necessary.  What's much more interesting, and I believe much more important, than this science versus religion argument are all the conversations and exchanges of ideas that could be had between the sides, in regards to how they can get along amicably (if they could only get along amicably).  Both sides, as a whole, seem to fail miserably in this regard, and it may be the greatest bane of our ability as a species to move forward collectively.  It doesn't always have to be about right and wrong, assholes.

Science has this intensely unfair advantage, you see.  It's based on proof.  Therefore, through experimentation, one can find proof.  The belief in a higher power is not designed to be proven, nor can it be in any way that a scientific mind would accept.  This makes science people pissy and religious people defensive.  If they could get past this fundamental difference in their belief structures, maybe they could find some common ground, like the idea of faith in something (be it protons or Ra) being a healthy and natural human mechanism.  Wouldn't that be an interesting debate?

As for a philosophical answer, which I perceive you wanted, pertaining to humans as imperfect beings creating and believing in either imperfect or perfect ideas, that may have more to do with the individual than the species as a whole.  Perhaps, simply stated, it makes more sense for us to accept imperfection, because we ourselves are imperfect, which is why so many of us have trouble with the extreme concept of a perfect being or creator. Something else that people could take into account when discussing these things instead of arguing like petty morons. (It also helps explain why a lot of people are able to accept Darwin's theory of evolution completely, even though it doesn't explain everything, including where life effing came from.)  Then again, a lot of born again Christians go the route of the lord because they have found so much imperfection in themselves that they need to believe there is someone more competent to run their lives.  Well, what if you got to do it yourself, pal?  What if not beating your wife means stopping your hand from striking her face, all by your lonesome?

Hard to play Devil's Advocate when you're treading the line between science and religion.

One more thing.  A lot of men of the cloth do claim perfection.  That's dumb.

Short Answer: Believe in me! (And a good thing, too, that we don't decide our beliefs based on perfection.  What fun would life be, if our role model was without flaws?  We'd then be able to answer the question of how much guilt the human body can contain before exploding like a claymore full of cranberries and stuffing.)  Happy holidays everyone!

Friday, December 10, 2010

Question: I have recently started seeing a girl that has a muff straight outta the 70's. How should I approach this muff trimming issue? What would you do?

Now I don't want to sound like a pubic hair expert, or merkinite, but I am aware that the Brazilian trend is falling away and we're being pushed forward into a pubic hair revival.  Still, I think the huge bush is still a long way from coming back around.

I'm not sure how you should approach it, but based on the variability of subjects and circumstances, I'd try straight forward communication.  If that doesn't work, tell her you'd be able to perform oral a lot better if the situation down below wasn't so unruly.  Chicks will usually go for that.  Of course, then you gotta back it up, and not like in a rap video.

What would I do, you ask?  Tee-hee.  I'd start making cracks about other out of style trends. Ask her if she's ever had a pet rock, or if she wants a hulu hoop for her birthday, or whether or not she'd be down if I busted out some bell bottoms.  She'll get the hint; either that or suffer psychological abuse to the point that she'll be unbearable and then you'll get to dump her hairy ass anyway.

(If you really want to be a misogynistic asshole, you can refer directly to unattractive trends in sexuality that mirrored the big muff, like the canon boobs thing.  That will totally mess with her body image, which you probably don't want because she'll end up being less confidant and subsequently not so good in the sac.)

Short Answer:  Positive reinforcement, brother.

Question: Do you have a favourite word? Or perhaps a top-ten list?

I could do this for a long time, writing, re-writing and editing a Top Ten List of my favorite words.  But as is the mandate, I will instead answer as best I can off the top of the old bean.

In no particular order:


Short Answer: Fuck.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Question: You and 3 friends go camping. The next morning you wake up with a pounding headache and a trojan in your corn hole. What do you do? Who do you trust? Do you tell anyone at all?

Man, things are getting dark.

It's important that I do a good job trying to answer everyone's questions.  This one threw me for a loop, though. I guess I've just never contemplated anal-camping-rape by one of my dearest friends.  Here comes my best shot, though, pun intended.

If I woke up and had been raped by a friend, I would sit everyone down and explain that if one of them didn't fess up, I was going to kill them all.  But not before taking the thing they most loved in the world and taping myself destroying it and showing them the tape while cooking a piece of them and forcing them to eat it.  When no one fessed up, I'd kill them all, without threat or mercy, and cross my fingers that the rape had not too badly inflamed my already sensitive prostate.

The last part of the question, "Do you tell anyone at all?" freaked me out.  This whole thing is fake, right?  The fact that this is in the question concerns me.  Please, if this has happened to you, talk to a psychiatrist or the police, do not murder these people in the aforementioned way.  But if this is supposed to be funny (as twisted as that is), here's the answer.  If I killed a bunch of my friends for having possibly raped me in my sleep on a camping trip, I'd buy a rape/murder themed float, put it in the middle of the Macy's Day Parade and play "I'm Too Sexy" while dancing in a mesh shirt and leather pants.

Short Answer: I'm too sexy for this question.

Question: Brady Bunch Characters: Marry one, Fuck one, Kill one. Who?

I never watched the Brady Bunch.  I watched a little of the movie, the one with Ben Stiller's wife in it.

Here goes nothing.

Marry: You marry Carol.  Who wouldn't marry Mrs. Brady?  It'd be like marrying your mom. Awesome!
Fuck: Gotta fuck the old lady.  She's the only one not underage.  But I'm lookin' at you, too, Greg.
Kill:  The key to killing Marcia Brady is to make sure she thinks that you want to fuck her first.  Let her feel comfortable that you, like everyone else, thinks she's special.  Then slowly allow her to become aware that you plan on taking her most precious of precious-es because she's so special.  After that, leave her tied up for awhile, let her think about it.  When she starts to think, 'even though it's horrible that I'm going to be raped, at least I was chosen,' slit her throat like you'd do a pig at a slaughterhouse.

Short Answer:  "Here's a story..."

Question: Picture yourself a mild mannered writer by day, a devious super villain by night. What is your name, costume, catch phrase, and most importantly your ultimate motivation?

This cuts a little too close to the truth, but I'll answer it as if it was "hypothetical."

Also, this is one of those "don't want to give away my best ideas" questions, so I won't be answering seriously.  Of course, why would I want to do that anyway.

I would be called the Groom.  I would wear a tuxedo, but an older style one, probably sky blue with lots of ruffles and a bow tie.  My catchphrase would be "With this ring, I thee kill!" and then I'd throw a crap load of rings.  My motivation is simply that I smothered my wife to death on our wedding night, and because I can't handle what I did, I externalize it, always looking for the person responsible for my wife's untimely demise.  Will I ever realize that the culprit is me?  "Till death do us part, Batman..."

I would be called Lumber Jack.  I would be huge, wear red flannel, and carry a woodsman's axe.  My catchphrase would be "Timber, Mother#@%##@!"  My motivation is to find my blue ox, 'cause when I was a child, my mother dressed me up as a girl and I escaped embarrassment by reading the tales of Paul Bunyan over and over and over.  "You planted the seed, Batman..."

I would be called Captain of Industry.  I would smoke retardedly big cigars and then cough like I'd never smoked before.  I'd wear every outfit, in rotation, that Orson Welles wore in Citizen Kane.  My catchphrase would be, "Buy low, sell die!"  Just kidding.  My catchphrase would be, "You will think what I tell you to think!"  My motivation would be to own everything.  "Greed, Batman, is the way to a man's soul..."

I would be called Pogo.  I'd wear pink overalls with nothing underneath and a cap with a spinny-bugger on it. I'd say, "Look at my stick!" and try to touch all the children.  "There's a child inside all of us, Mr. Wayne."

I would be called....

Short Answer: You get the idea.  I could do this all day.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Question: What is the first, second and third thing you would do if you woke up naked in a dark, abandoned city behind a sour dumpster with naught but a newspaper for cover?

First: Check to see if I still had all my kidneys.
Second: Rape kit.
Third: Nappy time.

Short Answer:  "Naked homeless man covers junk with sports section."

Question: If you could give Sarah Palin any advice, what would it be?

Politics.  This may be the first directly political question I've had to face since starting this blog.  It's come up a few times in other answers, but I've mostly avoided it.  Now, it seems, I have no choice.

What advice would I give Sarah Palin?  My instinct upon reading the question, was simply to answer, that she should shut the fuck up.

But that answer would be incorrect.  What I'm really trying to say here, is that the American people should listen the fuck up.  Because people like Sarah Palin exist for a reason.  Now I'm not here to say exactly what that reason might be, but here goes the old college try.

Sarah Palin, in a political setting, exists to show you many things.  The first of which is the inadequacy of qualifications for government office.  She also represents how underhanded and devious politicians are in trying to sway your vote with things that shouldn't matter, like good looks and gender.  She indicates that the people who run the good ole U S of A think they can fool you into voting a certain way, by appealing to something as irrelevant to office as "being a down home gal," whatever the hell that means.  She lends transparency to the process by which politicians validate themselves, through practiced and controlled circumstances, by being unable to follow said practiced and controlled circumstances.  She shows us an example of a politician who clearly doesn't give a fuck about running the country, but wants to put her mug on tv as much as possible, be it through signing contracts for exclusive consulting with Fox (?) or creating her own travel-type show.  (At least other useless officials have the good sense to give up their fame seeking careers before politics; bitch is using politics to fuel her fame.)

I love Tina Fey.  Who doesn't?  But I think her brilliant parody of Sarah Palin clouded us a little.  We began to think someone like Mrs. Palin was a joke, a simple and humorous anecdote.  Wrong.  She is dangerous.  She wants to be president, and she hasn't given up yet.  So if you want the country to crumble, follow up the Repulican's marvelous wet-work during Obama's term and elect that down home gal.  See what you get.

Short Answer: Keep up the good work, honey.  Everybody needs a little context, once in awhile.

Question: What accent do you think is the sexiest?

I think, overall, women find accents sexier than men do.  I may be wrong about that.  Girls, feel free to lick me to death as punishment.  Misogyny Away!

(Landing) Here's the deal.  All accents, to some degree, are sexy.  This is because people, for the most part, are bored with their lives, which I'm sad to say, includes their sexual partners.  So anything different, and I mean anything, becomes sexy.  Personally, I don't know if I can say, based on accents alone, which one is the sexiest. I know German isn't.  I'll lay that out there right now.  Unless it's Marlon Brando doing it...that's another question, I suppose.

For me the answer is British.  No, not cockney British, who do you think I am?  But any other British accents for sure.  In my case, it's more of an association thing than anything else.  You ever seen the so-called lad's mags that come out of Britain?  Let me tell you something, brother, those ladies got some breasts.  They've got enough for the rest of the class and then some.

Short Answer:  When I here British accents, I think of British boobs.  Winner!

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Question: Why are the greatest comfort foods shaped like dicks and which is your fav?

To me, comfort food is like a full meal; like with the balls, too.

Anyway, call me straight, but I was unaware that comfort foods were shaped like dicks. Maybe they're not, and there should be a question asked of the questioner, in regards to their eating so many cock foods.

But I digress.  Cocks.

Because I think of comfort foods as stews and shepherd's pies and the like, I guess I'll just try to answer what is my favorite cock-shaped food.  My initial instinct would be hot dogs, but I stopped eating those awhile ago, on account of how much elbows and asses go into the making of them.  I do like food on a stick, especially meat, so I suppose any one of those candidates would suffice, but it doesn't feel right.  Makes me think of a penis with a stick tucked up into the urethra.  Not appetizing.  Otherwise, maybe souvlaki?

Butternut squash?  Great looking cock food, but not all that yummy.  Oh, by the way, I only hate one food on this fine planet of ours, and that's the Devil's Cock - the cucumber.  How the fuck can you people eat that shit?  It has the flavor of wet.

Both yams and edamame can look like penises, and they're super foods, which I'm into right now, so either of those would be good choices.  You can live off that shit.  Broccoli too, which can also look like a cock, however diseased.

Wow, this is hard.

I like balls a lot.  Meatballs, in particular.  But that doesn't count, I guess.  Damn, this one's really hard, and it's getting longer and longer.

Here's a tip.  Don't take comfort from food, fatty!  Moving on.

Breadsticks, with a smear of garlic aioli, wrapped in prosciutto.  Out.

Short Answer: The meaty appetizer in the line above. The aioli works like glue, to keep the ham on the stick!  Awesome!

Question: Hypothetical: You're God, you've just spent the past six days creating everything, you're tired, your back hurts and you feel like you've made a few mistakes along the way. So what do you do to blow off steam on day seven?

Time to fuck some angels!  Wait, what?  Let me read the question again.

Well, creating all of that stuff was fun, but I kinda feel like trying a different creation, see how the game plays differently.  Like, maybe a creation with higher intelligence, so I can do better in speech challenges.

Wait, let me read it again...

I'm God in this scenario, so that means, because I created time and space, and everything else, I'm outside of those things, so I won't be able to explain to humans what I'm "doing", because they think in terms of whens and wheres.

Yea, that's a cop out.  Okay, in the spirit of the question (eyes-rolling), I guess I'd probably eat pizza and watch hockey.  Maybe accompanied by some sort of sexual act, maybe one called the "The Big Boom".  After that, I'd watch a horror movie, one without too much realism so I can escape from it all - I did just create it all after all.  All.  Later, I'd write a kick-ass story and afterward I wouldn't feel like it sucked now.

You know what, I don't like this answer either.  Let's try honesty.  If I was God, and I just created the world, I wouldn't rest on Sunday, I'd start fucking around right away.  I'd be all up in that shit, watching Adam like a hawk, taunting him, checking out the Devil situation.  I'd be playing, right?  I'd start religious arguments that I thought were hilarious, then watch all the dudes die over it.  I'd come up with all sorts of plagues and atrocities, and rain sulfur and turn people to salt.  And when people inevitably began to pray to me, asking, even begging on their knees, for help and peace and guidance, I'd be all like, "What?  I'm busy."  Eventually there'd be so much praying and killing, that I'd have to do something.  So I'd send my son, even though he's a bit of a hippy fuck-up.

Short Answer: This is just what I would do, geez...  

Question: What is the first thing that comes to mind when you read the made-up word: Mleedoing? Why?

It's definitely an alien, small and cute, saying it, and the phrase can mean a few different things.  (Alien languages are tonal, after all, we've all seen Close Encounters.)

First off, it is the alien way of saying, "My bad."  You've fucked up, and your alien enough to be responsible about it.  Example: "Jerry, what the fuck, man?  You totally klork-blorked me on that one!  Bitch had three, huge tits!"
Jerry, looking dejected: "Mleedoing, mleedoing..."

Secondly, it can be used as an inquisitive verb, something that only exists in alien languages.  (We've all seen the Abyss.)  Example:  "Who the fuck is going to pick up this green turd?"
Jerry, hand on chest:  "Mleedoing?  No florkin' way, bro."

Thirdistan, it has recently become popularized by replacing the name of the sex act formerly known as the "Alien Pirate Ship." (We've all seen Ice Pirates, right?  No?  Fuck you.) Example: "I space-gacked in this bitch's eye, and she put her hand over it, right?  Then, I kicked her in one of her many legs, and she hopped up and down.  She looked like a pirate, right?  Then, I put on my badass spacesuit, and took her into space, where she froze, and I rode her down the mountains of methane like a pirate ship!"
Jerry, excited:  "Dude, that is the most amazing mleedoing I've ever heard about.  You ever seen that movie, Mleedoing, about the kids on the ship, the British kids, where they get effed-up and kill that girl? That movie was messed up."
Other alien:  "What the fuck are you talking about Jerry?  You're lucky we don't Mleedo your ass right here and now."
Jerry, looking dejected:  "Mleedoing, mleedoing..."

Short Answer: Who's gonna answer this question?  Keith, hand on chest:  "Mleedoing?  No florkin' way, bro!"

Question: Could you compose a limerick of some kind involving Santa Claus in a compromising position?

Say what you want about quality, this one was truly off the top of my head.


In the bedroom of one Mrs. Claus
Santa had pulled down his drawers
"Naughty or nice,
I've begun thinking twice,
and I'm not getting down on all fours."

I know using a title is kinda like cheating with limericks, but suck it.

Short Answer: Yes. Yes I could.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Question: If Pokemon existed in real world ecology, do you think homo sapiens would still ride the top of the food chain?

Humans will be the top of the food chain no matter what fictional characters come to life, because fictional characters are mostly just caricatures; either caring, interesting and rounded, or flat and evil. (The exceptions to this rule are surprisingly few and far between and exceptions are easy to gang up on. I'd think even a truckload of pissed-off gay bashers could take out an exception, and that's a sampling of the worst of us.) We, the Human Race, are caring, interesting, rounded, flat and evil, among a million other things.  We are dynamic. We are many.  And we will fucking kill you, you can count on that.

Short Answer: Humanity for the win, always.  Because we will fucking kill you.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Question: I had a terrifying dream. I was in no particular place, maybe a cabin, or the woods or a highway. Chasing me was Michael Myers on one side and Leatherface on the other. What could I have done to avoid all this from happening or to survive?

To avoid this, maybe don't be so fucked up and have fucked up dreams.

To survive, your only chance is to pit them against each other. Michael Myers will kill anyone, and Leatherface needs meat and flesh for his daily dealings. Only problem is Leatherface might not recognize Michael Myers as a source of skin, unless he wants William Shatner's face specifically. This is rough. Maybe you could dream some Aliens and Predators or some Freddy and Jason, give them an example on how to mix it up. But if you could do that, you could just dream a door that leads to a naked, c-cup mandatory sock hop.

Short Answer: You're fucked.

Question: What is your horror movie dream cast and why?

First of all, this question made me think of the Sega Dreamcast.  Just so you know.

Because I hold horror in high esteem, or more importantly and aptly, in a level of esteem equal to any other genre, my dream cast for a horror film would be similar to my dream cast for any kind of film.

Ed Norton
Christopher Walken
Tim Roth
Gary Oldman
Salma Hayek

Ed Norton would be the main character, sympathetic and charming.
Christopher Walken would be an amazing doomsayer, warning the folks away from the secluded cabin/house/hotel/zombie filled city.
Tim Roth would be the stoic, yet sketchy lawman.
Gary Oldman would be the killer/devil/head vampire, though you wouldn't know it at first.
Salma Hayek would be naked.

Oh no!  Ed Norton was in on it the whole time!

Short Answer: Norton, Walken, Roth, Oldman, Hayek (in her most naked performance to date.)

Question: I left Home Depot today with an armload of wood feeling incredibly empowered. Is it acceptable for young men to feel empowered when they have wood? As an aside, isn't context grand?

Building things goes way back, if you measure from the tip to the balls. It's ingrained in us, and must have penetrated our make up at a time when we had to build shelters to survive. Now, in the days of aluminium siding, we don't, as men, have to learn these skills.  I guess my personal opinion is that anytime you can get an armload of wood, and if makes you feel good about yourself, you should be proud.  Maybe even have a parade.

In a modern society rife with equal rights where our words are stifled in our throats by fear of politically correct reprisal, our manly instincts are probably slowly being eradicated.  That, in a way, is sad.  So let wood make you feel good, the way that Billy Bob Thornton made Halle Berry feel good in the movie Monster's Ball, or as I like to refer to it, Monster Balls.  (Heath Ledger was really good in that movie, just so you know, in case you want to go back and watch him be awesome.)

Short Answer: Anything that makes you feel manly is probably enforcing your self-esteem in a positive way, unless the thing you're doing is hitting your wife.  That's not cool.  Even if you're a chick.

Question: Subcreature! Gozer the Gozerian, Gozer the Destructor, the Traveler, has come!! Choose and perish! (and please, thoughtfully explain your decision, or return forthwith to your place of origin or to the nearest convenient parallel dimension.)

I've often thought about this. Whenever I watch Ghostbusters, I appreciate that Ray was able to control himself enough to think of something big, soft and fluffy, and not have something way more horrific enter his mind.  For me, in the same situation, I would undoubtedly think of a spider or a giant squid.  Maybe a shark.  Perhaps the choice of sea-dwelling creatures would save us, but more than likely, the Destructor would form in some sort of non-aquatic way; like a flying shark, or a giant squid on stilts.  The real fear for me is that I would fail miserably and think of some sort of shark-squid-spider hybrid and we'd all die horribly from beak bites, venom and flying shark farts.

Now to answer the question properly, what would I choose if I could think about it?  My first instincts are the same as Ray's; but that didn't work out so well.  Marshmallow or no, that thing was fierce.  Maybe I should just give up and think of the coolest thing to get killed by, like one huge breast or something like that; but that's giving up.  So, what form of the Destructor would be easiest to survive, but also not scare us into total mental collapse?

A pillow? That would smother you. A deck of cards? All the knights and kings would come out and massacre the place.  Batman?  It would look like the caped crusader, but it'd be the Destructor and he'd be way meaner. (Still almost worth it).  What? What? What?

I have it.  Bill Hader from SNL doing an impression of Alan Alda.  I can't think of anything less threatening or more entertaining, so even if it does get us killed, at least you saw that awesome impersonation.  Wait, wait.  Even better is anyone, maybe also Hader, doing a really good impression of Christopher Walken.  That wouldn't hurt a fly.  Wait, wait, wait. How about Christopher Walken doing a piss-poor impersonation of Jeff Goldblum?

Bingo.  (You're right, no human being would stack books like this.)

Short Answer: Christopher Walken doing a less than stellar impersonation of Jeff Goldblum.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Question: Should high school graduates be required to take a mandatory year away from education before pursuing their life's ambitions?

Mandatory is a big word.  There are some kids who have it together young, and know what they're doing and why they're doing it; they understand the consequences of quick decisions, and they genuinely believe they see a career path.  Now I've never met any of these people, but I have to assume that at least one of them has existed at some point in time.  Mostly, kids who get out of high school are total and complete morons, still brandishing their idiotic teenage bravado without the sense of an adult that has gone through some real life shit.  So, simply put, I would surely recommend to most high school graduates that they chill out for a bit before they waltz like mindless automatons into post-secondary and destroy their parent's bank accounts with Philosophy 101 and jello shots.  By the way, taking philosophy in college doesn't make you smart, so shut the fuck up.

Education is the key word, here.  I think there are two kinds of people on the planet.  Those who learn and those who don't.  And I don't mean memorize and acknowledge, I mean learn, with intent to utilize, exchange ideas and back up your opinions.  If you aren't one of these people, what'll a year off hurt?  If you are, you're going to learn things anyway, so why rush into another school environment?  Get out of the house, get a job, get a girl or a guy or both, get in trouble, get into something other than bureaucracy and bad sweaters.  There will be plenty of time for that later on, I assure you.

Short Answer: The only thing that should be mandatory for high school graduates is a direct injection of fear of the real world, followed by a chaser of common sense.  Otherwise, I would recommend some time to reflect, plus it's the best time in your life to appreciate your invulnerability.  That shit goes away too.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Question: What are your feelings on the institution of marriage?

I think it's dumb.  I was with my wife for nine years before we got married, and we had gotten tired of each other long before we tied the knot.  By the time the deed was done, it changed nothing.  I don't think marriage is anything, honestly, more than an antiquated, sentimental, tax form waltz.  Nothing changes, your feelings stay the same.  In a modern society, when people get married, they've already done the do, and they usually already live together, so marriage is no longer a rite in those regards.  I think we do it because we think we have to, like douching or listening to the Doors.

Short Answer:  Marriage is sweet, in concept, like mating for life like the wolves do.  But as an institution?  It can pretty much suck it.

Question: Now that I've returned from Switzerland, where were you when the Tzar was unseated?

Funny story.  I had just taken a substantial voyage, by widget-carriage of course, with my soon to be betrothed, Emma of Undicain.  Her incessant ramblings on the "way we were" were so extensive as to have a negative effect on my rheumatism, and I found myself spending a fortnight after returning on my hands and knees; which is humorous, because whilst I was in my throes, Emma managed to spend quite a bit of time on her hands and knees mouth-fornicating the parlor boys in a particularly vigorous fashion; or so I was told.

After burying her head separate from her body, as is the style in Vienna, we had a late lunch that was interrupted by news that the Tzar had been unseated.  I remember quipping, "What Tzar?" and everyone laughed, including the parlor boys.  And then I said, without humour, "What does unseated mean?" and they laughed a second, and then a tertiary time.

Short Answer: Here and there.

Question: By comparing and contrasting the different Late Night Talk Show Hosts, who do you think is the best?

That is specific.  Let's try it on.

Jay Leno sucks.  I want to be respectful, I do.  But come on.  You know that thing that talk show hosts do where they lead the person into an already prepared story, prompting them as if it were spontaneous?  What's that called?  Flobbering?  Sure.  Jay Leno is the worst flobberer in the history of variety television.  He flobbers the same way a pig looks clean. Letterman's not much better.  Conan is a little better, but it's always about him so it doesn't show as much.  And not because he's a selfish amateur or anything, but because he's consistently way funnier and way more entertaining than the guest he's trying to flobber. Both Craig Ferguson and Jimmy Fallon are quite good at the flobber.  They both create an atmosphere in general on their respective shows that feels more like hanging out with old friends.  Ferguson does have a similar problem to Conan in this regard, where the show is more like a one man show than a talk show, so Fallon I think is the winner in the flobbering category.  I never feel like he does a bad one, and if he does, he doesn't really try to hide it. He just prompts because it seems he's genuinely interested in the answer.  As for Jimmy Kimmel, I don't know what that guy is doing.  Some times I think his whole show is one big inside joke that only he gets.  He's undoubtedly funny, though, so maybe I'm just bitter that I'm not in on the joke.

Sheer magnetism, you ask?  Point to Conan, all though Letterman had it in spades for awhile.  Ferguson's got it too, and Fallon has a little for sure.  Again, Kimmel, I don't know. I'm sure his mom thinks he has it.

Leno has none.

Bands?  The Roots from Fallon.  Destruction.

Quality of guests?  These days, it's still a tie between Leno and Letterman for most, but for me, it's Jimmy Fallon all the way.  I'm a fan of who he has on more consistently; simple as that.

The shit they do to kill time between guests, again goes to Fallon.  It used to be Conan, and I think we can thank Conan for creating the monster that Jimmy Fallon now is.  But beer pong with Betty White please.  Jay Leno should get some credit here, for headlines and Jay walking, but that shit got old.  Jay walking is still funny of course, but it's not original and he isn't doing anything.  It's just people being stupid.  Wait, he doesn't do anything with headlines either.  Leno.  Honorable mention to Jimmy Kimmel.  Love the unnecessary censorship.

Monologue.  This is a big one, so I'm awarding two points for it.  It's the only one where the man (though he may have a team of writers doing the jokes) stands alone.  It is he, the host, bare, attempting to do two or three minutes of fresh, relevant stand-up to a cold audience - at least the home audience.  Leno's always had decent writers, but the way he delivers jokes is the way a galvanized, serrated forceps monster would deliver a premature baby.  Bloody disgusting.  Letterman was the man, usurped by age and Conan.  Jimmy Fallon and Jimmy Kimmel have good writers, Fallon's may even be great.  But these points are awarded, pants down, to Craig Ferguson.  He is the epitome of the off the cuff, improv-funny, one man show that is so greatly lacking on television.  His monologues are awesome, because he's hilarious.  Where never the twain shall meet, he's the Samuel Clemons of being funny all by his lonesome.

Jay Leno - 0
David Letterman - 0
Conan - 1 (Sheer Magnetism)
Jimmy Kimmel - 0
Craig Ferguson - 2 (Monologue)
Jimmy Fallon - 4 (Flobbering, Band, Guests, Between Guests)

Short Answer: Jimmy Fallon is the new king of late night.

Question: What do you think the best power would be to have: invisibility, teleportation or flight/levitation?

I'm going to come out and say it.  I honestly believe that any man, when he's offered the question of invisibility, automatically thinks of checking out girls naked.  I believe this, to my core, that even the most righteous among us will instantly imagine themselves watching a girl change.  Now, accepting that and moving forward, I'd also like to believe that a lot of us (maybe not me) would rethink that quickly, feeling it is pervy, or dirty or an invasion of privacy.  I may think it's a victim-less crime, (as Nelson so aptly puts it, " a punch in the dark."), but even I in my ever increasing maturity (laughter offstage) think that it's a bit rude.  So, because I don't want to face my voyeuristic demons, I will rule out invisibility right here.

Teleportation would be awesome.  I am so lazy.  This would work well for me.  Also, I'd save on flights and those air-miles don't buy you shit anyway.  I've been collecting for ten years, and all I can buy is one really big shoe.

Flight is a dream man's had for eternity.  Now we can fly, so for me it's lost a little majesty. I'm neither the kind of person who has flying dreams, nor wants to visit the moon, nor/or any of that Ray Bradbury crap.  (Just for the record, I'm a huge Ray Bradbury fan.)  Still, it would be cool to fly, in a getting away from it all kinda way.  But in terms of travel, teleportation would be quicker.  Therefore...

Short Answer: Teleportation.

Question: Who would win in a break dance battle: Eddie Gordo (Tekken), Michelangelo (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) or Spider-Man (Marvel Comics)?

I can't help but think that Mutagen is going to play a large part here.

Eddie Gordo can go fuck hisself.  He's a capoeira fighter, so right off the bat, I can't even trust in his root training regime in the art of "serving."  Plus, if you've ever played Tekken, Gordo is the worst guy to fight against.  Fucker never stands still and he's always coming at you from fucked up heights and angles.  Like that thing he does where he steps in, makes a complete front flip, then just before he hits the grounds, kicks you in the shin from a back lay out position.  What the hell is that?  And here I am, blocking high, switching to mid, and gettin' kicked in the shin.  Gordo can eff off.  Besides, he's just a man.

Next, representing in his beat boy stance, is the Spider-Man.  I suppose, at some point in his epic continuity, he has shown some break dancing skill, but I've never read that, so it's as if it never happened.  He's clearly capable - spider powers and such - of doing these crazy moves, but that doesn't mean he has the training or the talent for it.  I don't remember Spidey ever having a true power for mimicry, so that's that if you ask me.

Michelangelo rules.  Try to justify any of the other turtles as the best turtle, and that shit falls on deaf ears with me.  Raphael was more complex.  Leonardo was the fearless leader. Donatello was really smart.  Who gives a shit.  Michelangelo stomped ass, ate shit loads of pizza and loved life to the fullest.  Game, set, nunchuk, match.  Back to the point, compared to those other dudes (Gordo and Spidey), he has three major advantages.  One: Mutagen. Two: Actual break dancing skill and application of said skill.  Three: Shell.  For epic, unending spinnage.

Note: In case you don't know, Mutagen is the shit that turned a little itty-bitty pet turtle into the aforementioned mud-hole stomper who's about to win this competition.  That shit is tight, boy-ee.

Short Answer: Michelangelo in landslide fashion.

Friday, October 29, 2010

Question: What is your favorite Stephen King story?

Wow.  Wow.  So hard to answer this without spoilers.  Normally I wouldn't, but this is tough; so be warned.  Also, it's important to note that I interpreted this question as short stories, so I'm gonna go with that initial instinct.  I'll include a brief list of my favorite novels by Mr. King at the end of the answer.

First and foremost, I know which one is my favorite right off the bat, but I won't reveal that yet.  First I'm just gonna rip the one's off the top of my head that have always stayed with me.  The Mist, Autopsy Room Four, Children of the Corn, Quitters Inc., Sorry Right Number, The Ten O'Clock People, Sometimes They Come Back, The Body, Umney's Last Case, The Road Virus Heads North, The Long Walk, Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption, Graveyard Shift, The Running Man, Jerusalem's Lot, The Raft, The Milkman #1 & #2, The Lawnmower Man, The Langoliers, You Know They Got a Hell of a Band, In the Deathroom, 1408, Beachworld.

There it is.  Stephen King's influence, ladies and gentleman.  The fact that the list above is that long is very telling.  I'm surprised and a little delighted.  Plus, there's probably more, and even if I looked at a list of all his work, I wouldn't necessarily remember all the great ones by title (or maybe I would).

To the goods.  My third favorite Stephen King short story is called the Night Flier.  It's about a tabloid journalist who is chasing down a man who is killing people at small airports.  The main character thinks that the crazed murderer must think he's a vampire.  What I remember loving about the story is that there was a lot of night flying, and the dance is in the pursuit, but the locale of the dance is very different than most stories.  Original, fast and fun, it delivers on all fronts, including a bathroom scene you won't soon forget.

My second favorite Stephen King short story is called Cain Rose Up.  It's short, sweet and simple, and I really can't tell you anything without ruining it.

My favorite all time Stephen King short story is a big part of who I am as a writer. The lasting image of horror at the end of The Jaunt has been stapled to my brain, and never leaves me.  The story is bendy; sort-of science fiction, kinda fun, fifties future stuff.  But the end...whoa nelly.  I'll never get it off the backs of my eyes.

My Favorite Stephen King novels, in no particular order, are: The Dark Half, Wizard and Glass, Dolores Claiborne, The Talisman (with Peter Straub), The Eyes of the Dragon (another hugely influential book to my makeup), Needful Things, Dreamcatcher, The Tommyknockers and Pet Sematary.

I think it's worth mentioning in the spirit of full disclosure that my favorite thing by Stephen King of all time is his book on writing, brilliantly called, On Writing.  Also, I'm in the middle of reading Danse Macabre as we speak, and so far it is glorious.

Short Answer: The Jaunt, from the book of collected stories entitled Skeleton Crew.

Question: What was your favorite Halloween costume from when you were a kid?

So easy.  Papa Smurf.  Old school style: plastic pants, plastic shirt, hard plastic mask with the black elasto-band around the noggin.  I remember being super young and wearing all that shit over my snowsuit.  Sorry this answer isn't more thorough, but where I grew up most Halloweens you were either a rock star or a ninja, so that one really stands out.

Short Answer: Papa Smurf.  A distant second would be the time in grade six I dressed up as a mime in my mom's aerobics gear and you could totally see my epic, budding, puberty bundle.

Friday, October 22, 2010

Question: Who is funnier - Tom Hardy or Oliver Hardy?

I think this might require some more thought.  Perhaps we should include more Hardys? Tom Hardy of course is an actor, famous for playing the baddy in Star Trek: Nemesis. Oliver Hardy is the fat guy from the comedy troupe Laurel and Hardy.  Between them, the contest seems too close.  I need more Hardys.  Don Ed Hardy was a tattoo artist.  He has tattoos on his neck.  That shit terrifies me.  He's not funny.  (Unless you want to be funny, Mr. Hardy, then that's cool with me.)  There's G.H. Hardy, this British mathematician.  He's into math.  He's not funny.  How about Thomas Hardy, the famous English writer?  He was part of the naturalist movement and dug supernatural themes.  Not the funniest topics.  He's not funny.  Jeff and Matt Hardy are wrestlers; the professional kind.  They smash themselves and others with Tables, Ladders, and Chairs.  They will kill you.  They're not funny.  The Hardy Boys, however, famous pre-teen novel detectives, are kind of effeminate and charming, which I personally find amusing, but I don't know how funny it is.  Boy, this is tough.  Wait a second, to tell you the truth, I don't find Oliver Hardy all that funny.  Maybe I'm on to something here.  Yes, that's it.  People with the last name Hardy are not funny.

Short Answer: Though no one named Hardy is particularly funny, Tom Hardy is the correct answer because he's relevant.

Question: With Halloween coming up, can you recommend five must-see horror films that have come out in the last five years?

Yes.  Yes I can.

This question is eating me alive.  First off, only five?  You must hate me.  Second-ably, is Best the same as Must-See?  Probably not, but Best films are Must-Sees, right?  Therefore, can I just do a list of the Best from the last five years?  Am I twisting the question to make it easier?  Am I still in my underwear at eight minutes after noon?

Here's the deal.  The mandate of this blog is to answer the damn questions without too much thought, so I'm gonna answer the damn question.  Five Must-See horror films.  Now, if you want a list of just the best, or my favorites, or a specific "good for Halloween" list, that will have to be a different answer.  So, away we go.

#5} Eden Lake (2008)   IMDB 7/10   Rotten Tomatoes 83%

This little, British gem stars the now famous Michael Fassbender as the male member of a couple trying to drive to a lake in the English countryside for some one-on-one downtime.  Shit goes south.  This is one of those "real horror" horror movies that makes you squirm and keeps you tense as you get overtly pissed off that it's going down the way it is.

What makes this one a Must-See is that there's a sense of injustice about the film that I find very frustrating and terrifying.

#4} Let The Right One In (2008)   IMDB 8.1/10   Rotten Tomatoes 97%

If you haven't heard of this Swedish movie by now, you must live under a blanket under a rock.  This movie blew up last year and spawned (big surprise) an American remake that just hit theaters like a sack of shit slapping against a barn door, sliding all the way to the ground leaving a disgusting (opening weekend of about five million) shitty smear.  The original, however, is just that: original.  I'll tell you nothing, for if you know nothing, crawl out from under the rock and consider yourself lucky, and go buy it.  Word to the wise, however, make sure on the back of the box it reads something along the lines of "theatrical subtitles".  This movie has interesting, subtle dialogue but when it was put out on DVD, they did a way crappier, simplified translation.  You want to make sure you've got the real deal, which is the theatrical release translation.

The reason this one is a Must-See is because it is a great film.  Moving, touching and a little sad.

#3} REC (2007)   IMDB 7.7/10   Rotten Tomatoes 96%

The cover of the DVD says, "The movie that inspired Quarantine".  Ouch.  Quarantine is the American remake of the Spanish original REC (for record, as seen on the screen of a camera).  The American film is quite solid, if a little less impactful towards the end, but only achieves its success because it follows so closely to the original.  REC is one of those great in your face, what the fuck is going on? horror movies that are so rarely done with this level of thought and execution.  I warn you, however, it is a hand-held, documentary style movie, so if you don't like that because you're a douche, or more legitimately, it makes you nauseated, perhaps this film is not for you.  If you're willing to try and overcome your bullshit, this movie is a fucking thrill ride.

A Must-See movie for horror genre fans specifically, but also great for seekers of high tension antics.  This one's a racehorse.

#2} The Orphanage (2007)   IMDB 7.7/10   Rotten Tomatoes 86%

Another Spanish film, this one might be a little lacking for fans of horror who are really just in it for the kill.  By that I mean, the gore-mongerors, or the slasher/giallo  fans. (Not an insult: I am both of those things, unapologetically.)  This one's more of a ghosty, atmospheric thinker.  But it may be the best ghosty, atmospheric thinker ever made.

This film would be in my Any Genre Must-See films of the last five years list.

#1} Inside (2007)   IMDB 7/10   Rotten Tomatoes 83%

Ah, France.  You have become the masters of horror.  I don't know how you did it.  Maybe it's the awesome health care or the wine-at-every-meal lifestyle, but you've done it; climbed to the top of the Horror world.  One could argue, that if I put together the best five Must-See horror movies from France of the last five years, it would rival this very list I'm making now.

To the point, Inside is everything I've ever wanted in a horror movie.  It's spooky, scary, tense, fucked-up, gory and evil.  At first you don't know what the fuck is going on, and later, you kinda wish you still didn't.  It's a simple movie that seems complicated; also cool.  You manage to actually care about the main characters.  It flows nicely, but there are clear horror set-ups that you enjoy not because they are obvious, but because they blend so well with the story.

Now don't get me wrong; this movie isn't perfect.  It's not like the above mentioned Orphanage in terms of its quality and execution, but instead takes a more stylish and original turn, in terms of content as well as sound and visual design.

Watch it.  If you don't laugh gleefully when things are killed, don't watch it.  If you are squeamish about where that blade is going to be get the idea.

#6-Infinity} The Honorable Mentions

The way around just picking five for me was the idea of doing a lengthy honorable mentions section, but the article is already fairly lengthy, so I'll try to be brief.  Also, by no means does the presence of honorable mentions take away from the five films I've answered the question with.  I took my time, those are the Must-See five, I assure you.  These others were never really contenders, but they are worth a look.

In no particular order: Planet Terror, The Descent, The Strangers, Cloverfield, Teeth, The House of the Devil, Drag Me To Hell, Behind the Mask, Martyrs, Bug, The Hills Have Eyes, Slither, Hatchet and my personal favorite honorable mention, the brilliant Piranha (3D) by Alexander Aja.  Keep 'em comin', buddy!

Short Answer: The Must-See movies of the last five years in Horror, are: Inside, The Orphanage, REC, Let The Right One In and Eden Lake.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

Question: Who do you think Tom Hardy should play in the next Batman?

Before answering who he should play, let me try to figure out some of the possibilities.  Also, before we start, I'd like to say I fucking love Tom Hardy.

Obviously Bat-fans of the world have convinced themselves that the Riddler is next.  Tom Hardy as the Riddler doesn't seem to make a lot of conventional sense, but you never know.  What I'm dying to bring up is this wonderful trade paperback called Joker, written by Brian Azzarello (art by Lee Bermejo).  In it, the Riddler shows up, and he's an older broken sort, with a brown hat and crutches.  To me, he looks like Johnny Depp, so ever since I read it, I can't picture anyone else as the Riddler.  Plus the fact that if you have to follow up Heath Ledger's performance as the Joker, you need someone with pretty intense chops, and Depp fits the bill.  But that's not really why I'm dying to bring the book up.  In it as well is an incarnation of Killer Croc as a bashed-up, scarred-up mob guy.  With rumours (or facts, now?) that Bats 3 will film in Louisiana, signs point to a Killer Croc  appearance.  Tom Hardy was in a movie called Bronson and if you picture him that way, you could see him as this realistic version of Croc, which would fit much more easily into Christopher Nolan's world than the crazy, mutant version.

As of the time this is being written, we can't say if Tom Hardy is going to be the main guy.  He could be a lawyer, a friend of Bruce's, a secondary or primary villain or any other nameless thing that the Nolans have come up with.  Instead of listing how many different characters he could be, I'll simply answer the Question.

He should be the Penguin.  Not the weirdo, silly Burgess Meridith Penguin.  He should be the low down, dirty-dealing, arms race bad ass penguin.  Not that he needs a monocle, but speaking of picturing the way he looked in other movies, imagine the character Tom Hardy played in Nemesis, but add the monocle.  I think that's pretty damned Penguin-y.  But to hell with that.  Toss the bigger nose and the monocle.  Just having him be a Guy Ritchie style thug in the Nolan universe would totally work.  And so what if this version of the Penguin can take matters into his own hands when the time comes?  All the better to dance with the Bat.

Short Answer:  The Penguin.  And please, no Catwoman.  We love Batman's duality, not his romantic confusion.  Catwoman brings nothing but mundanity and a confusion of a moral code so simple as to be below the great Bruce Wayne.  Besides, I don't think Hardy would look all that good in leather.  Just kidding, he would.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Question: What's your favorite cereal?

I'm not a kid.  I can't live on Captain Crunch.  I need fibre, assholes.  So what cereal is full of fibre, but still tastes like a Pac-Man cereal marshmallow?  Nothing, that's what.  The closest thing I can find is Mini-Wheats, original white flavor.  It's shredded wheat with built in sugar, so you don't have to feel like an unhealthy jerk while you pour sugar all over your shredded wheat.

I'd like Just Right a lot if it didn't turn to mush in fourteen seconds.  Another benefit of the Mini-Wheat, it holds up to the milk properly.

I know their are cereals with more fibre than Mini-Wheats, by the way, so don't get your junk in a knot.  Mini-Wheats is just the right balance between healthy and not cardboard-y.

Short Answer: Mini-mini-mini-mini-Wheats.

Question: What do you think of the Soundgarden Reunion? New Track Black Rain?

I really don't care.  I haven't heard the track, nor do I care to.  It's not that I think it will be bad, it's just I think Soundgarden started to suck before they broke up.  So what are the chances they're going to recapture something?  More than likely, their new album will sound like Down on the Upside, when I'd rather it sound like Badmotorfinger.

Short Answer: I get it.  It's the new way.  Bands don't die, they keep going and going.  Thank shit for that, or we'd have no Loverboy.

Friday, October 8, 2010

Question: Why do dice hate me?

What you have to understand, is that to dice, you are the "Man".  That proverbial cog in the effervescent shit-machine, tied either to bureaucracy or government, who controls and dumps on the little guy.  You fling dice around, for your own amusement, and hope they'll bring you fortune, with no care how the dice feels.  The dichotomy of dice existence is bad enough, without you, the "Man" pitching his ass against Monopoly boards, or worse, against the sides of backgammon walls or craps rails.

Try to have a little more compassion.  Be one with the dice.  Sing "Luck be a Lady" and give them a kiss, then let some hot bitch blow on them.  Maybe that will change your luck.

Short Answer:  Dice hate everyone.  There is no hope.

Question: Who would you be more comfortable with letting your wife have a one night stand with: Jack Burton or Snake Plissken?

First off, my wife is a whore, so I'd be very surprised if she managed to have only a one night stand with anyone.  But I suppose in the interest of good answer-dom, I should act as if this were a special occasion, not a random dick at the bus stop.

The question is about comfort level, and for this one, I gotta go with Jack Burton.  Snake is a steel-munching, ass-kicking, cigar smoking man's man.  Not only would he destroy my wife in bed, he would leave her in complete shambles for future men, including me.  How could anyone compete with that?  But Jack is basically a bumbling idiot, though awesome in his own hilarious way.  He would be like a sad puppy dog in bed, and he'd probably cry afterward.  The next night, I'd look like Snake Plissken by comparison, and that's good.

Short Answer: I would feel comfortable having a one night stand with Lopan.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Question: Why writing? Why be an architect of words?

I guess the simplest answer is that I've always done it.  I wrote these parody detective novels when I was about ten, and I never really stopped.  Took me awhile to figure out it was my bag, though. When I was trying to decide what to do with my life, I'd always think of things that would allow me to be creative, like, "I'll weld for six months, then I can take pictures for six months."  Eventually, I figured out that all I was ever trying to do was find time to be creative.  Writing, though I'd always done it, was kind of thrust upon me as a career choice, because I can't really tell a story any other way.  I'm a visual artist by nature, not tangibly, but in the sense that I see things in my head very clearly.  I can't draw worth a damn, though, so I had to turn to words.  Writing for me is almost a struggle to get what's in my head into someone else's.

Short Answer: I like to think I'm a storyteller.  I want to believe that it is an important tradition, and I'd be proud to be a part of it.  The architecture is simply trying to make the story last, to make it as stable and beautiful as possible.

Monday, October 4, 2010

Poll Results: Who is your favorite murderer of teenagers and upholder of society's strict moral code?

Michael Myers is the winner with 28%!  Of course he is.  Nice try, other jerks.

Question: If I suddenly awoke from a nightmare in your bed at 3am, would you call me Allison and tell me to go back to sleep? Or would you have Ving Rhames shoot me in the head?

This is sort of an "if you're in the know" type of question, and I'd like to broaden the readership, so I'll answer it as honestly and directly as possible.

If you suddenly woke up from a nightmare in my bed, I'd assume that I knew you were in my bed in the first place.  If you were, I'd assume you were a hot girl with huge boobs and wide hips, and I'd flip you over and get down to some 3am type shenanigans.  The fact that you awoke from a nightmare would not deter me.  "There, there," I'd say, and it would be weird for you but great for me.

If you like, I will call you Allison, but I might also yell some other weird shit, like, "It's just the Alamo, we can take it!" or "Thar she blows, the great white whale!" or "I'm done in the Jefferies tube, are the plasma coils back online?" or "I'm the best there is at what I do!" or "They're coming to get you, Barbara!" or "Arch your back more, Leopold!"  You get the idea.

As for Ving Rhames, I don't see him fitting into the scenario, even if he is a super bad ass.  Maybe if it was like a weird fetish thing, where you were a hooker that I'd hired and I had set it up so that after I was done with you, he would come and take care of the body, then I'd be down.

This was probably not the answer you were looking for, on account of all the sex and violence.  Then again...

Short Answer: I'm  not so good with multiple choice, so my conditional answer is:  If you're a dude, you'd probably get shot.  If you're a chick, you'd probably get boned and called Allison, among other hateful things.

Question: What's it like going through life with a passing physical, and eerily similar vocal resemblance, to actor Jake Weber?

For those who don't know, Jake Weber was the star/hero of the 2004 Dawn of the Dead remake by Zack Snyder.  He was in some other stuff, too, but I don't care about that.

What's weird about this question is that Jake Weber is from England, so to answer the question from a first-person point of view, I'd have to take on the role of someone who's regular speaking voice sounds like a British guy trying to do an American accent.

Also, Jake Weber is hot.  So I'd have to assume I'm very good looking.  No problems there.  Even my mom would agree that I'm quite the looker.

So, I suppose, the answer is, it's pretty awesome.

Short Answer: Jake Weber is cool, so people who remind you of him are also cool.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Question: What do you think about people dressing up their dogs for Halloween?

I like dogs.  You might even say I'm a dog lover.  I will kiss your dog, and let it lick the inside of my mouth.

I used to think that putting anything on a dog was stupid, because they're animals.  But now we have access to everything in the whole world, spoiled brats that we are, and we take things from all over. There are certain dogs that were not bred for certain climates, so I've been coming around on the whole sweater thing.

As for costumes, I don't think you should put, let's say, a Santa hat and elf booties on your dog at Christmas, 'cause he doesn't know what the fuck you're doing.  But Halloween?  That's tricky.  Halloween kicks ass, and sharing the joy of dressing up with the ones you love, like your dog, makes some sense.  Maybe there should be some guidelines, though, to weed out those who would use my kindness to dress up their hounds in a bullshit way.

Halloween Costume Rule For Your Dog #1: It can't be too cute.  If you're being cute, you're missing the point of Halloween.  Your dog is not a sorority girl, so it's costuming mission should be hilarity or awesomeness, not cuteness or slutty-ness.

Halloween Costume Rule For Your Dog #2: Don't dress your dog up as another animal.  Besides probably breaking rule 1, this is also dangerous in terms of identity crisis.  You don't want your dog thinking it's an alligator, or it might start trying to drown you in the bath tub.  (I'm not the only one that takes baths with my dog, am I?)

Halloween Costume Rule For Your Dog #3: Just like a dog with a people name is funny, so is a dog in people costume.  Instead of Papa Smurf, go with the Mummy.  Instead of a bunny, try Elvis.  This will work out.  But don't make it too cute, or your dog will shit in your purse.

Halloween Costume Rule For Your Dog #4: Whatever you choose, don't ruin the whole thing by being an asshole and making a huge deal out of your dog's costume.  People will be impressed, you don't need to rub their noses in it.  Everybody likes a good costume, so just do a good job.  Do you run around the Halloween party yelling, "Check this shit out, I'm a used condom!" or whatever you happen to be wearing.  (I assume that's what most people wear, things like that.  I don't go to many Halloween parties but I think that's about right.)

Short Answer: I'm surprised to say it, but I think this is okay within reason.  But don't be surprised if in response to dress-up, Sparky lays a surprise on your pillow that night.

Question: Can you explain deja vu? Didn't I already ask you this?

I'm not answering this again.

Short Answer: I'm not answering this again.

Friday, October 1, 2010

Question: Director's cuts. Self-indulgent money grabs, worthwhile studies of the artist's vision, or bonus entertainment?

Complex thing, these director's cuts.  Let's do it by the book.

Self-indulgent money grabs:  There is undoubtedly a large percentage of not only director's cuts, but also special editions, extended editions, final cuts, unrated cuts and kitchen sink cuts to warrant a strong case for monetary grabbage.  This one is definitely a yes.

Worthwhile studies of the artist's vision:  This is best case scenario, when the Studio (capital S for the metaphorical evil studio) sends a dirty editor of their own to chop up a movie for pace, and the director gets a chance after the fact to show his true vision.  I think this is legitimate, but should in no way be assumed without further research.

Bonus entertainment:  This is the trickiest, because I like the idea of more good stuff about something I dig, but I hate when my understanding of the product gets marred.  What I mean is, say I like a film a lot.  Then, a director's cut comes out, and the film is different, be it due to feel, message or blatant plot or character shifts.  I end up having to ask myself, "What was the director's original intention?  What was I supposed to think and feel about these things, if now I think and feel something different for each version?  What time is my burrito coming out of the microwave?  Come on, is this the future, or what? Let's go, microwave, you piece of shit!"

My conclusion is that most of the time we're seeing money grabs, but every now and then, a director's cut rights the universe's wrongs.

Short Answer:  Hilarious, universe, my burrito is too hot to eat.

Question: With the popularity of Piranha 3D and Sharktopus, SURELY the seeds have been planted for the demise of vampires and zombies. If not the horrors from the sea, what will?

I honestly don't think it's possible for a true demise to occur.  Vampires may be popular because of Twilight, but they are cool and awesome despite crap like that.  Zombies are untouchable in terms of coolness (though I guess I would've said the same about Vampires until just a little while ago.  At least they won't have dreamy Zombies in high school romances.  Will they?)  The brutal truth is, and I hate to be deep when talking horror, these creatures, possibly above all others, are wonderful, powerful metaphors, and no matter how much they get kitched up, they still remain strong.  I will not go on to explain how these creatures are metaphorical, I'm not your elementary school teacher and if you're reading this blog, I assume your intelligence is high enough to get it. Otherwise, trust me, I guess.

So, the question then becomes, what is the next big thing?  What can out Vampire Twilight and out Zombie Romero?  The answer is simple; mashing the two together into some sort of undead nonsense and creating said nonsense with the use of oddly cheap CG and pawning it off as original.  I Am Legend was a piece of shit.

Vampires got hot for reasons I don't get, and Zombies, in my little world, have always been this big.  My prayer is for the werewolf, for I love him, but Twilight seems to have popularized and ass-raped werewolves as well.

I'll venture a theory.  The next big thing, following the cycle of movie theme popularity, would be Vampire parody films.  That could go for a bit, but these parody phases are never as big as the original push.  I think a better answer, though already huge, is the superhero.  The superhero as a genre has survived multiple cycles of real, silly, parody and heartfelt, and it's still alive and super-kicking.  Is it possible that it will get even bigger?  I think so.

(By the way, on a very personal note, I love horrors from the sea.)

Short Answer: I would love to believe that there will be eighteen more movies that are as gratuitous and enjoyable as Piranha, and that those types of films will become the new big thing, but we all know that ain't gonna happen.  Let's hope they keep putting dollars into the superhero/comic book/graphic novel thing, so that it remains the big draw and we get to see all those awesome properties on the big screen.

Question: Space travel or time travel - which would you experience if you could only choose one? Why?

This one is easy as punch.  Time travel would be way more interesting to me, based on my desire to control everything around me.  Time travel would be the ultimate opportunity to fuck with things and try to redesign them in my own image.  Whereas space travel would just be stupid suits, bad food and pooping in a vacuum.  

I would meet Pontious Pilate before he condemns Jesus and make a joke about washing my hands, so that when he said the words later, my face would pop into his head while he was sentencing the son of god to die.
I'd go back and ask Socrates an arbitrary question, and when he answered with a question, I'd give him shit for answering in the form of a question, and do that in the form of a question, and I'd keep that up until he had a heart attack.
I'd wait until Nostradamus was on his death bed, and I'd take the last thing he wrote in hand and say, laughing, "This is way off."
I'd ask Constantine if he was sure that this was a good idea.
I'd fuck Sigmund Freud.
You get the idea.

Short Answer: Time travel because it's way more fun and the only tang you have to deal with is of the ancient Roman poon variety.

Question: What do you think would make a great horror film and has yet to be attempted within the genre?

The mandate for this blog is that I answer everything, fast and without too much thought.  This question creates a conflict of interest, in the sense that if I actually answer it honestly, I'm not protecting my intellectual property and giving the world a great idea.  I love horror movies, and I've written a few, but I can't be revealing my life blood to just anyone.

So instead, I'll answer thusly:  I would like to see a horror movie where a cock-monster attacks, and the whole movie is full of gratuitous nudity, violence and cock-monster.  I don't think that's been attempted, but I think it would be great.  A woman, screaming, horrified, as she gets rolled over by the biggest, hairiest balls you've ever seen.  The main theme of the movie would be Rock Lobster by the B-52's, except Cock Monster.

Short Answer:  Cock-Monster.  Copyright me.

Question: If Wil Wheaton and Wiley Wiggins had to fight to the death for my amusement, who would win?

In case you don't know, Wil Wheaton played Wesley Crusher on Star Trek: The Next Generation, and Wiley Wiggins is that whiny kid from Dazed and Confused.  I think the key to this answer is in the wording of the question.  I honestly don't think I could figure this one out, except for the fact that you said "for my amusement."

First off, they'd fight in the ring from the original Star Trek series episode, "The Gamesters of Triskelion."  You know the one, where Kirk has to fight all those thralls at once in the end, with that sweet fight music, and you can only step on certain parts of the ground.  I'd give Wil the net and trident, and Wiley would get that overlay heavy poleaxe looking thing that's clearly made out of Styrofoam.  I would initially bet 100 Quatloos on Wiley, but when the Providers (rulers of the planet, keepers of the thralls and brains in jars), fooled by my superior intellect, begin to go for that shit, I'd change my bet to 500 Quatloos on Wil.  Those assholes.

The fight will of course be a paltry example of man to man combat, as Wil repeatedly tries to use his time traveler powers as if he were really Wesley Crusher and Wiley keeps dipping the nose of his spear to the ground while tucking his hair behind his ears.  Eventually, the oft-repeated hair tuck will be Wiley's downfall, as he is left defenseless against the thrown net of Wheaton.  Once entangled, that bitch will complain like a girl, but somehow manage to take his subsequent paddling like a man.

I will collect my Quatloos.

Short Answer: This is a draw by all accounts, but draws are lame.  Wil Wheaton grew up to be kind of a cool dude, but I don't know what happened to Wiley, so Wil is the winner.

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Question: What are your opinions on the Planet of the Apes series?

I like the first one.  Who didn't?  But overall, I find the metaphor, taken as it is throughout the rest of the series, becomes a little heavy-handed, or maybe a better way to say it: on the nose.  This is in no way to knock the entertainment value of the films, but for me, the others I've seen (and I have not seen them all) seemed to pale in comparison to the first.

Remember that Tim Burton one?  That one sucked.  What was he thinking with the end of that shit?  "Now I'm gonna do something that makes absolutely no sense.  Take that, ticket buyers!"  I wish Tim Burton would be good again.  Anyway.

For the most part, Planet of the Apes just reminds me of Charlton Heston in Soylent Green, in my opinion a better film.  And it also reminds me of all the pop culture jokes surrounding the series.  Like on Family Guy when Peter tells the "How many dirty stinkin' apes" joke.  Good Stuff.

Short Answer: I like them, namely the first.  But I don't have a lot of opinions because I think the movies are so on the nose that the opinions have already come through, leaving little room for conversation.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Question: Why are you the rightful king?

Being a king isn't just about blood.  It's about honor, loyalty and nobility of a type most cannot understand.  It means courage in the face of fear, not despite it.  It means love in the face of death.  It means honesty in the face of aggressive reprisal.  It means hope when all all else is bleak.

Be you not confident, be you not realistic, be you not stoic, be you not full of joys and terrors, you are no man.

Be you unable to defend what is right and good, you are no king.

Short Answer:  'Cause I'm bringin' it.

Question: If evolution were merely a means to an end, what would you hope that end to be?

I don't think I've ever thought of evolution as a means to an end before.  Interesting perspective.  Evolution is merely adapting and the ultimate adaptation, I suppose, would be to no longer have to adapt.  That would take a stagnant and controlled environment, which we may create in the future, but as of now, does not exist.  By this logic, you could theorize that adaptation is unending, therefore, evolution could never be a means to an end.

Ever since Darwin applied the Malthusian method, we've had evolution; growth beyond means leading to survival of the fittest.  Perhaps, then, a means to an end for evolution is a complete and unbiased understanding of ourselves.  That evolution, the evolution through science and philosophy to comprehension could be an end to evolution as we know it.  It could also be an end to humanity as we know it, for again, where would we be without growth?  Some say we are already there, that the growth of technology has replaced old fashioned Darwinian evolution, and we are stagnant, relying on the machines we build.  If that's the case, I guess we won't know if we can still evolve until Skynet comes online.

To answer the question directly, I suppose I would have to say immortality.  It's the only true end of change that would require the coming together of both the ultimate evolution of technology, and the ultimate test for the psyche of humanity.  By the time we have immortality, we will have achieved the greatest of all miracles through our science and technology.  By the time we learn to deal with it, we will have achieved a mental evolution to match.  But then what?  Could we not evolve further, even when the greatest gifts of god and the universe have been improved upon?  Or will we be like the shark, so evolved that we need never evolve again.? Able to withstand even extinction events with barely a shrug?

Short Answer:  If evolution were a means to and end, would not the end be in sight?  And if it was, would we not change to alter that obvious path?  Is the human animal even capable of stopping its rampant evolution?  I think not.  But if it was a means to an end, I hope that end would be a complete comprehension of what it is to be human.  For now, we have but inklings.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Question: Could you write a brief though graphic tale featuring these three things: A domesticated cat, a barely functioning antique rifle, and a statue that comes to life?

I could.

Just kidding, can you imagine?

Muffins the Musketeer by Keith

Muffins awoke with an itchy belly.  She crawl-walked to the chair, hopped up, and hopped again, landing perfectly, as cats do, on all fours atop the table.
The musket used to live in a glass case, but when the Red-Headed-Man-What-Kicks-With-His-Foots had died, the Lady-Who-Supplies-Tuna-And-Back-Fingies took all the glass cases down, along with all the plastic covers on the furniture, so Muffins could stretch out on the paisley chesterfield properly.
Muffins approached the old gun, still propped up in its wooden holder-jobby.  She planted her paws on either side and settled her belly over the cocking apparatus, and lowered herself softly.  With a gentle rocking motion, her belly was scratched and she purred.  It almost felt as good as Back-Fingies.
The Noise echoed down the hall.  Muffins felt her back raise, ending her alone time.  The Noise had started the first day she'd scuffed her brown belly across the musket, but at first she'd assumed the timing coincidence.  But this was too much.  The Noise was there, ever present.  When she scratched her belly, something down the hall creaked.  For days, she'd avoided the truth, but today, she felt a little braver than before, and decided to check it out.
As she pattered down the carpeted hallway, she kept her head cocked, waiting for the noise again.  But it didn't come.  She did hear the Lady-Who-Supplies-Tuna-And-Back-Fingies, though, moaning away in that strange way she always did.  It had increased now that her husband was gone, for she used to only do the moans when the Red-Headed-Man-What-Kicks-With-His-Foots was at work, or out with the Stinky-Boys.
Muffins trotted into the sewing room, where the Lady had placed the new statue.  Now, she knelt before it an hour a day, doing her moans, surrounded by her candles.  Muffins knew not to interrupt and turned to go.  As she began her retreat, one of the candles cast an idle, but potent flame against the far wall, and Muffins froze.  It was probably just the shadows, but she swore that the statue's right hand was in a different spot.  Had it always been that far away from its stone leg?  She shook like a dog and strode away, thinking no more of it.
That night, Muffins had trouble sleeping.  The Lady hadn't been in the mood for Back-Fingies, and no matter how she turned, she couldn't scratch her back itch with the musket.  Her cat brain raced as she lay on the paisley chesterfield, as cat brains are want to do when cats can't sleep.  Something was bugging her.
She flipped over and dove to the ground, trotting purposefully down the hall, for fear the dark would thicken and arrest her quest.  She turned into the sewing room and moved confidently to the statue.  It was dark, and her eyes were good, but somehow she managed to step on the statue's stone foot, stubbing her little cat toe.  That's weird, she thought.  The foot wasn't out this far before, was it?  She looked up, and the statue's eyes, though facing forward, seemed to lock on her own.  With a growl, she turned and fled the sewing room.
The next day, when the house was still quiet, she went back to the musket.  As she lowered her belly over the cocking part, she froze.  All of a sudden, the world came crashing down around her, and her cat brain skipped a synapse.  The Noise!  She had always thought it was a creaking, perhaps in the attic or the basement, but now, after her scare the night before, the Noise now seemed more like the cries of splitting stone, not wood.
She lowered her belly, ears cocked high for maximum sound.  As the skin touched the musket, the Noise came, louder than before.  Muffins raised her belly, and lowered again.  Once more, the Noise came, louder, but this time, followed by a thump.
It awoke the Lady-Who-Supplies-Tuna-And-Back-Fingies.  She came crashing down the stairs, fresh candles in hand, already doing her strange sing-song moan.  Muffins followed her into the sewing room.
When she arrived, she thought that maybe her little cat eyes were deceiving her.  Not only had the statue moved for sure, but some of the stone had cracked and fallen off, leaving a grey, chunky powder on the floor.  The Lady looked scared, and began saying no over and over.  She knelt in the dust and began lighting her candles.  The statue, beneath the parts that had fallen, showed black fabric and pink skin.
Muffins didn't mean to, but she meowed.  And the Noise came, the stone splitting as the head of the statue turned, its eyes alighting on Muffins.  The stone around the mouth fell away, and the lips said, "I hate that goddamn cat, Louise!  It's been touching my musket!"
The Lady screamed.  She began muttering, saying no, and don't come back, and you're dead, and other things that Muffins didn't really understand.  Muffins, though frightened, ran to the woman, rubbing up against her legs, trying to get her attention, get her to leave the sewing room and get away from the statue.
More of it was splitting and cracking now, and Muffins could see the red hair on its head.  Muffins tried harder to get in the Lady's way, but she was determined to light her candles and sing her spooky song.  She pushed Muffins aside and bit down on her finger, hard enough to draw blood.  "Sisters of the Devil," she sang.  "Keepers of the East and West, bind this man, bind him for all time."
And as soon as she asked the question of her little cat self, she knew the little cat answer.
Before long, the Red-Headed-Man was coming, stomping down the hallway, holding the Lady in his still stiff, but outstretched arms.  He bellowed, "Where's the cat, Louise?  I'm gonna kill your stupid cat!"
Muffins readied herself, paws planted on either side of the Musket, belly hovering.  The Man turned the corner, appearing from the hallway.  His neck creaked and turned, looking for his prey.
Muffins meowed.  The Man saw her and let go of the Lady, leaving her gasping for air in a heap on the floor.  He took only two steps, and Muffin knew he was in range.  She'd always listened to the Red-Headed-Man-What-Kicks-With-His-Foots, hoping to understand why he would kick her and hit the Lady.  Hoping to understand how she, a simple little cat, could ever put a stop to the Man's bullying.  She had listened to all the conversations about his precious musket.  What it was, how it worked, and of course, most importantly, that he kept the stupid old thing loaded.
Muffins lowered her belly, caught the cocking device, shifted her hips, and the apparatus clicked beneath her.  She hopped off, and snuck her little paw onto the trigger.  The man bellowed again, more stone falling to the floor.  He reached out, close to the antique gun, nearly pressing his chest against the muzzle.
With all her might, Muffins pulled on the trigger, and the world went boom! Muffins fell off the table, and because no one was watching, she landed on her back.  A piece of the musket fell beside are, just missing her tail.  The Man fell next, crashing hard to the ground, a weird red fountain erupting from his chest, splashing brightly on the remaining stones.  Muffins righted herself and ran to the woman, who had water coming out of her eyes.  She scooped Muffin up into her arms, and dug her nails into Muffins back, hugging her and giving her the best Back-Fingies she'd ever gotten.

Question: Where do lost socks go? And on a more personal level, where do you hope they go?

There are people on the other side of the dryer, who's upper bodies are porcelain white, and males and females alike have huge, round boobs, with tiny pink nipples.  They are hairless and have wonderful skin, and their eyes are bright and wide.  Below the waist, they are made entirely of sock material.

Though you may think they are wonderful and sacred creatures, they are spawned by Satan himself in the bowels of hell.  He came up with the idea as he was being cast out.  As he fell, he thought, "Well, that's that.  I pushed the big man too far.  Who will I fuck with now?"  It took almost a thousand years for Satan to come up with a way to fuck with us good and proper, and I'm sorry to say it's the sock material people.  He spent some coin and took a trip topside, and fucked a baby unicorn.  Unicorns, as you may or may not know, can be knocked up by any species and at any age, so the baby unicorn had a litter of monsters.  They grew to become the gorgeous horrors I described above.

They are trained in the depths of the underworld to steal your socks, but disciplined so as to steal only one at a  time, to make you go fucking crazy.  They take these socks, and weave larger and larger dicks for themselves out of the sock material.  At night, when you're awoken by what you think is a bad dream, and you feel like you can't breathe, that's because a big, sock dong was just lodged in your throat.

Short Answer: All hail the sock people!  You are beautiful and deadly and your lower parts are made entirely from sock material, except your toenails, which are made solely from toenail material.

Question: Dr. Pepper: Great soda, or the greatest soda?

Wow.  This is serious.  I'm a man who loves his sody.

If this question had been about any other soda product, I may have had to delve pretty deep.  But this is a no-brainer.  Dr. Pepper is the greatest soda ever.

Soda exists for one reason.  To taste good.  To be sweet and dark and sweet.  Cola takes care of this almost always, which is why Pepsi is one of my favorite things on the planet.  But, Dr. Pepper has almost every flavor on the planet, making it even better.  In most things, overdoing it would be bad, but not here.  Sody was created to be overdone.  More sweet, more dark, more cherry, more citrus, more cinnamon, more everything.  Dr. Pepper has everything a person could want to achieve nirvana and total happiness.

Try this.  Open a can of Dr. Pepper and then think of a flavor.  Now taste the Dr. Pepper.  Did you taste that flavor?  Yea, you did.  Dr. Pepper is a tin can of magic.

Short Answer:  Sody is awesome and Dr. Pepper is king. 

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Question: Now that Zombies and Vampires have been thoroughly destroyed by popular culture, what is the next horror film monster to jump the already jumped shark?

Sadly, I think there are other casualties that deserve mention.  Namely, the ruination of the Egyptian undead, or mummy, by that crappy action movie, The Mummy.  That script went through the hands of Clive Barker and George Romero just to name a few, but because it ended up the way it did, the mummy is a laughable creature in pop culture.  It will be hard to unjump that shark.

Also, if it hasn't yet happened officially, I'm pretty sure some of the culprits of the ruination of Vampires are also managing to take apart Werewolves.  The lycanthropes are in the midst of their own twilight.  Get it?

The classic slasher was destroyed in the nineties by teen dramas turned horror movies with a girl from Noxzema commercials standing in a V on the cover alongside someone from something relatively Gothic on TV, like Angel. (That's a run on sentence, bitches.)

Who's next, you ask?  Who's left?  I guess until they come out with a bi-curious Creature from the Black Lagoon, that monster's fairly safe.  Ghosts will always be scary, as will their subsidiaries, ie The Boogeyman.  The Frankenstein monster, as his own entity, is probably untouchable, and the idea of stitching someone together and jamming in a brain will always be pretty scary.  Though I suppose wrapping someone up and digging out the brain was scary too.  See aforementioned mummy.

Basically, there's nothing that popular culture hasn't destroyed.  Vampires are now hot.  Dracula, if I have to remind you people, was basically a filthy old man, with dirty fingernails and bushy eyebrows.  How did we come to this?  I apologize for the digression, I'm finding it hard to stay focused.  There are so many talking points around this topic, I feel I could write an answer about the history and destruction of each monster.

And finally, the answer.  It may not be considered a horror film monster by some, but I'm going to go with the alien.  Someone or something from another planet that is invading, or abducting or smashing or murdering.  Mean, scary, Alien kinds of aliens.  With remakes being such a fad now, I can foresee a lot of those old cool sci-fi properties getting new and horrendous treatment.  Anyone see the remake of The Day the Earth Stood Still, for example?  A few more like that, and the alien as a scary entity is boned.  Be warned.  They're making a prequel to John Carpenter's The Thing.  How long before we have Jeremy Renner putting a torch to some triffids?

Short Answer: The monster from space is a classic and timeless idea, and a terrifying metaphor.  Won't be long now before they fuck that up too.

Saturday, September 25, 2010

Question: What do you think of James Cameron's films?

Cameron's been involved in a bunch of stuff, so I'm going to assume the question relates to the films he has directed.  For those who don't know, those would be, Piranha 2 (which I think he got fired from), The Terminator, Aliens, The Abyss, Terminator 2, True Lies, Titanic and Avatar.  I think that's chronological as well.  He did direct some other crap, but nobody cares.  These are the ones that matter.

From what I can tell, he's directed five good to great films.  As much as he comes across as a pompous douche-nugget, that's a pretty impressive resume.  I think the most interesting thing about the self-proclaimed king of the world is that the films that are good, aren't necessarily the ones one might think are good.  First of all, both Terminators are good. The first is more like a horror movie, but it totally works, even though he's never been known to be a horror director.  Aliens is fantastic.  True Lies is fun.  The Abyss may be his greatest creation, though Aliens is pretty fuckin' fantastic.  Did I mention Aliens is fantastic?

Now I don't mean to be a negative nelly, but the reason I skipped quickly through all of that is because I think what's most interesting about Cameron is that he fools us all with his second-rate shit.  I'm talking Titanic and Avatar.  Personally, I think Titanic is a mess.  The main characters are simple, easily digestible archetypes, and the story is so straight forward there's almost no point in even sitting through it, because you know how everything is going to end after ten minutes (and I'm not talking about the ship stuff, just the main character romance plot).  As for the ship stuff, it's great.  Propeller guy, the couple lying in bed, tonnes of people drowning to death, all great.  But to take an infallible, inherently dramatic story like the tragedy of the Titanic, and use it to parade a dime-store love story about a spoiled rich brat and a scamp who's been down so long it looks like up?  That just sits in my craw a little.  I thought Billy Zane was good.

This all brings me to the most important topic, especially these days, in relation to James Cameron: Avatar.  Avatar has all the flaws of Titanic, but none of the sour taste.  Everybody loved the damn thing.  Here's why.  Almost every character in that film is an archetype, or a caricature of an archetype.  That's why it works.  Even though you've seen the same story a billion times, you want the hero to win.  You want the bad guy to suck it.  So the question becomes, is James Cameron really making anything at all, if it's just the same tired devices being slung around for the same old tired effects?  Sure, the thing looks great; there's no denying that achievement.  But isn't film about story?  Isn't it, at its core, still supposed to be an art form?  I understand if it isn't to any individual person.  I respect if movies to you are simply entertainment.  I would respect Cameron if he admitted that's what he was creating. But he gives off such a "my-shit-doesn't stink" vibe, I think he still thinks he's an artist.

Here's the rub.  I watched Avatar.  I actually cried near the end.  It was a fun, good-looking, day at the movies.  I liked it.  But did I say a word about it after I left the theatre?  No.  After setting up all the archetypes - the fish out of water hero, the military guy who'll do anything to get the job done, the scientist in it for science, the evil boss in it for money - the rest of that movie could've been one of those space puma's doing a Rubik's cube as long as at the end, in bold white letters on a black screen it said: The Good Guys Won. I would've been just as happy.

Short Answer: Overall, I like his movies.  His percentage of good films is high.  But like a lot of other big name directors (I'm lookin' at you, Shyamalan) he needs to get out of his own way, and focus on continuing to improve.

Question: Why is it that Bart, Lisa and Maggie are the only Simpsons characters without an animated hair colour?

Marge dyes her hair.  The skin-tone yellow that you see as the kid's hair colour is simply Marge's natural hair colour.  You'll notice in Marge's Playboy spread, that they made an effort to keep this a secret.  If she was blue down there, do you think they wouldn't have shown that?  Of course they would have!  Therefore, blue is not her natural hair color.  There-therefore, because we know Homer's hair color is black, the kids must have gotten their hair from mom.

Short Answer:   Though it looks the same as their skin to the naked eye, they do have an animated hair color.  Yellow, which is Marge's natural hue.