I started a new non-Happy Little Lemon-related blog called Down to the Dregs, in which I give my angry rantings a false sense of credibility by writing them as reviews.
Please encourage my bad behaviour by viewing this blog.
12 February, 2009
18 November, 2008
Cynicism, n. the truism that when something is clearly awesome, it must suck
Cynicism can sometimes blind you from the fact that we are living in some amazing times. Case in point: in about two months, the Bush Administration, like Pauly Shore, is gone for good. Even the most pessimistic of people can agree that, after eight years of Bush, at the very least it can't get any worse. The Republican candidate John McCain was not the worst candidate I could imagine (though with Sarah Palin on the ticket, it was pretty close). And in the end, Americans elected Barack Obama. There's no chance in a dodo's reemergence and subsequent domination of all of earth's ecosystems that Obama presidency will be a bigger fuck up than Chimpy McPuppet and Grand Overlord Richard "Oops-Shot-My-Friend-In-The-Face-Gonna-Hide-In-The-Bunker" Cheney. No fucking way. It would be the alchemical equivelent of turning gold into lead. Or lead into a pile of rotting elephant carcasses.
So, for now, I'm just going to sit back, relax, and enjoy the... oh yeah. There's still two more months of Bush.
FUCK.
Perhaps it's just me, but I find it a little frightening to think of Bush and Co. having a two-month deadline to get all of their Evil Appointments and Molevolent Deeds in their Calendar of Horrendous Horrors done. The pressure is on to complete all of their evil plans. Things could get messy. And, you know, when you're running out of time, you skip some steps. I mean, sometimes, you forget to scrub the blood from between the tiles when you're in a rush to dump the bodies. And Karl Rove is a heavy, heavy man.
But, they say that no out-going administration has ever attempted to pass legislature in the last few months of office. Then again, they say you're not supposed to go off and invade another country all willy-nilly. Especially if you have a United Nations membereship card. I hear that if you invade a nation without Security Council authorization, the Secretary-General donates all of your UN Members Club points to a children's charity.
Again, cynicism. Bush ain't gonna do nothin'. At least, according to an article from CBC. Apparently, Bush explicitly told Obama that "he can count on complete co-operation as he makes the transition to the White House". Which of course doesn't sound at all like the quiet reassurance of an action film villian just before he hatches a scheme of treachery, floating fortresses, and cyborgs who murder. Just look at the photo of Bush, from the above article. Look at him, hiding around the corner.
You can't see his hands, but I bet he rubbing them menacingly. Oh yes, you can expect complete co-operation from me and my... friends. Heh heh. Complete co-operation... TO HELP YOU DIE!
I mean, as a cynic, I'm impressed that the Bush administration hasn't tried to pull off some third-term "time of war" bullshit. I suppose at this point, that would have been a bit of a stretch. Then again, so were the justifications for the Iraq war.
(Click image for better quality)
I mean, if Bush were the prime minister of Canada, he could have had all the terms he wanted, with added sprinkles. That seriously makes me question the merits of our infinite term policy. Not that a Bush-esque prime minister of Canada would have much impact on the world. Still, I'm starting to think that a two-term limit isn't such a bad idea. As it stands, Stephen Harper can run for as many terms as he wants, provided that he at least calls an election every five years. And he could probably manage a few terms, as long as he or his party continues on with its current agenda of just staying out of trouble.
The Conservative Party has, for the most part, avoided any enduring controversies and it seems to keep them in power. Doing nothing is totally politically advantageous. When I was a kid, I got a tonne of praise for being "such a good boy" just because I sat quietly. I didn't do anything to deserve such a prestigeous title (one which was only handed down by the elderly after taking to their Secret Geriatric Counsels). I just sat there and tried to resist farting or yanking the housecat's tail.
This strategy works in politics, too. The last federal election seemd to prove this. All the Conservatives have really done in the last few years is cut spending. Cuts, cuts, and more cuts. They've neutered our social programs. But, generally, people either forget cuts or accept them (sometimes gladly). And Harper has the badge of honour of being the first prime minister to cut the GST (by 2%) since its implementation by Mulroney in the early 90s. He can boast about that for a long fucking time. And it TEARS ME UP INSIDE!
But, despite the fact that we might have Harper ad naseum, Canadians seem a-glee about Barack Obama. I can totally see why everyone wants to come in their pants over this guy. He's fucking awesome. He's progressive. He's charismatic. He's well-spoken. He's also not 100 fucking years old like many of the last century's presidents.
But, this is again where the cynicism in me comes out and I think this time I'm right.
All the election fever and Barack-the-Vote pun-festivals really got everyone excited. And it completely exploded when Obama was announced the winner. I could tell that everyone had this great feeling, like the days to come would be sunny and if there were clouds, they would rain Skittles and Jesus would come down and hand out Long Island iced teas and toss flower garlands around everyone's necks.
But, let me give you a Canadian reference again. Liberal Dalton McGuinty was elected the premier of Ontario after years and years of premier Mike Harris's Conservative Party fucktardary. But, when McGuinty started his first day, he had a hard time getting used to his new office, since the former occupents had forgotten to take their FUCKING $5.6 BILLION DEFICIT THAT THEY DIDN'T TELL ANYONE ABOUT!
Like, Jesus! How did we not come together as one people and disembowel Mike Harris on Parliament Hill? No, instead we went the exact opposite way and shook our angry fists at McGuinty every time he said something like "Hydro is going up" or "eyewear is being cut out of Ontario healthcare".
Astonishingly, McGuinty was re-elected. But Barack Obama's plate is a lot more full, with a lot of caked-on cheese to scrape off from the last guy. Meanwhile, Obama's supporters seem to think he's Superman. Once he takes office, surely things will get better overnight.
But, politics are never a quick-fix and there is no quick-fix to politics. Look at how long it took just to get a black president in office. It's not likely that Obama will get all the things done he wants to accomplish, at least not in his first term. He's gonna have to soak his plate for a while before he can clean it off (that's right, I've continued with the dirty plate analogy and I am aware that it's lame—shut your goddamn mouth; it's my posting).
His two major quests seem to be health care and getting American troops out of Iraq. Health care will likely be the easist to tackle, because pulling out of Iraq will prove harder than most people realize. Just ask Nixon, who practically based his whole '68 campaign on the promise to pull troops out of Vietnam. Yeah, that turned out great. Only took another four years.
Still, Nixon got his second term. And according to a recent article, the US military is already in the works of developing swift Iraq exit strategy, definitely giving Obama some of the means to follow through with his promise. But, military logistics aside, there's obviously more to bringing the troops back home than plotting out a route on Google and making sure the cooler's full. A lot of this is going to be up to the Iraqi government and how prepared their own people are.
Even if things don't totally fuck up for Obama and he gets to do some good things (and hopefully get his second term), my cynical self still tells me that he's a human being and he's a politician. He's not Superman. He's not otherworldly. He will play the political game, like everyone else. Like Nixon. In fact his first major policy initiative deals with something that Nixon could appreciate: college football. Yes, of all the things Obama could set as a first priority, he's making sure to be on top of college football reform, which is, as reported by Slate magazine, "an attempt by Obama to bathe himself in college football's populist glow". Ah, playing political games.
Much like Stephen Harper did when he proclaimed his love of hockey. But, I guess Harper did get his re-election.
So, for now, I'm just going to sit back, relax, and enjoy the... oh yeah. There's still two more months of Bush.
FUCK.
Perhaps it's just me, but I find it a little frightening to think of Bush and Co. having a two-month deadline to get all of their Evil Appointments and Molevolent Deeds in their Calendar of Horrendous Horrors done. The pressure is on to complete all of their evil plans. Things could get messy. And, you know, when you're running out of time, you skip some steps. I mean, sometimes, you forget to scrub the blood from between the tiles when you're in a rush to dump the bodies. And Karl Rove is a heavy, heavy man.
But, they say that no out-going administration has ever attempted to pass legislature in the last few months of office. Then again, they say you're not supposed to go off and invade another country all willy-nilly. Especially if you have a United Nations membereship card. I hear that if you invade a nation without Security Council authorization, the Secretary-General donates all of your UN Members Club points to a children's charity.
Again, cynicism. Bush ain't gonna do nothin'. At least, according to an article from CBC. Apparently, Bush explicitly told Obama that "he can count on complete co-operation as he makes the transition to the White House". Which of course doesn't sound at all like the quiet reassurance of an action film villian just before he hatches a scheme of treachery, floating fortresses, and cyborgs who murder. Just look at the photo of Bush, from the above article. Look at him, hiding around the corner.
You can't see his hands, but I bet he rubbing them menacingly. Oh yes, you can expect complete co-operation from me and my... friends. Heh heh. Complete co-operation... TO HELP YOU DIE!
I mean, as a cynic, I'm impressed that the Bush administration hasn't tried to pull off some third-term "time of war" bullshit. I suppose at this point, that would have been a bit of a stretch. Then again, so were the justifications for the Iraq war.
(Click image for better quality)
I mean, if Bush were the prime minister of Canada, he could have had all the terms he wanted, with added sprinkles. That seriously makes me question the merits of our infinite term policy. Not that a Bush-esque prime minister of Canada would have much impact on the world. Still, I'm starting to think that a two-term limit isn't such a bad idea. As it stands, Stephen Harper can run for as many terms as he wants, provided that he at least calls an election every five years. And he could probably manage a few terms, as long as he or his party continues on with its current agenda of just staying out of trouble.
The Conservative Party has, for the most part, avoided any enduring controversies and it seems to keep them in power. Doing nothing is totally politically advantageous. When I was a kid, I got a tonne of praise for being "such a good boy" just because I sat quietly. I didn't do anything to deserve such a prestigeous title (one which was only handed down by the elderly after taking to their Secret Geriatric Counsels). I just sat there and tried to resist farting or yanking the housecat's tail.
This strategy works in politics, too. The last federal election seemd to prove this. All the Conservatives have really done in the last few years is cut spending. Cuts, cuts, and more cuts. They've neutered our social programs. But, generally, people either forget cuts or accept them (sometimes gladly). And Harper has the badge of honour of being the first prime minister to cut the GST (by 2%) since its implementation by Mulroney in the early 90s. He can boast about that for a long fucking time. And it TEARS ME UP INSIDE!
But, despite the fact that we might have Harper ad naseum, Canadians seem a-glee about Barack Obama. I can totally see why everyone wants to come in their pants over this guy. He's fucking awesome. He's progressive. He's charismatic. He's well-spoken. He's also not 100 fucking years old like many of the last century's presidents.
But, this is again where the cynicism in me comes out and I think this time I'm right.
All the election fever and Barack-the-Vote pun-festivals really got everyone excited. And it completely exploded when Obama was announced the winner. I could tell that everyone had this great feeling, like the days to come would be sunny and if there were clouds, they would rain Skittles and Jesus would come down and hand out Long Island iced teas and toss flower garlands around everyone's necks.
But, let me give you a Canadian reference again. Liberal Dalton McGuinty was elected the premier of Ontario after years and years of premier Mike Harris's Conservative Party fucktardary. But, when McGuinty started his first day, he had a hard time getting used to his new office, since the former occupents had forgotten to take their FUCKING $5.6 BILLION DEFICIT THAT THEY DIDN'T TELL ANYONE ABOUT!
Like, Jesus! How did we not come together as one people and disembowel Mike Harris on Parliament Hill? No, instead we went the exact opposite way and shook our angry fists at McGuinty every time he said something like "Hydro is going up" or "eyewear is being cut out of Ontario healthcare".
Astonishingly, McGuinty was re-elected. But Barack Obama's plate is a lot more full, with a lot of caked-on cheese to scrape off from the last guy. Meanwhile, Obama's supporters seem to think he's Superman. Once he takes office, surely things will get better overnight.
But, politics are never a quick-fix and there is no quick-fix to politics. Look at how long it took just to get a black president in office. It's not likely that Obama will get all the things done he wants to accomplish, at least not in his first term. He's gonna have to soak his plate for a while before he can clean it off (that's right, I've continued with the dirty plate analogy and I am aware that it's lame—shut your goddamn mouth; it's my posting).
His two major quests seem to be health care and getting American troops out of Iraq. Health care will likely be the easist to tackle, because pulling out of Iraq will prove harder than most people realize. Just ask Nixon, who practically based his whole '68 campaign on the promise to pull troops out of Vietnam. Yeah, that turned out great. Only took another four years.
Still, Nixon got his second term. And according to a recent article, the US military is already in the works of developing swift Iraq exit strategy, definitely giving Obama some of the means to follow through with his promise. But, military logistics aside, there's obviously more to bringing the troops back home than plotting out a route on Google and making sure the cooler's full. A lot of this is going to be up to the Iraqi government and how prepared their own people are.
Even if things don't totally fuck up for Obama and he gets to do some good things (and hopefully get his second term), my cynical self still tells me that he's a human being and he's a politician. He's not Superman. He's not otherworldly. He will play the political game, like everyone else. Like Nixon. In fact his first major policy initiative deals with something that Nixon could appreciate: college football. Yes, of all the things Obama could set as a first priority, he's making sure to be on top of college football reform, which is, as reported by Slate magazine, "an attempt by Obama to bathe himself in college football's populist glow". Ah, playing political games.
Much like Stephen Harper did when he proclaimed his love of hockey. But, I guess Harper did get his re-election.
3 November, 2008
Brace your puny mortal selves for... THE DEATH OF HALLOWEEN
(Ironically at the Hands of Fluffy Bunnies)
My Halloween costume started out with a work Christmas party last year. I wore a red plaid shirt I had bought a long time ago from Mark's Work Warehouse. I don't know why I bought it. Apparently I still think this is 1992 and "Even Flow" is topping the charts.
Well, fuck off, I like plaid. If people can still get away with wearing tights and leg-warmers, I can wear a goddamn plaid shirt and pretend Pearl Jam hasn't been shifted into the Classic Rock radio rotation.
So, that night, overtop a Tool t-shirt, I wore Big Red to the Christmas party. And if you don't know what I look like, and you may not, I'm kinda flabby with dark, brown hair and a full, short-trimmed beard (unless I get lazy—then it becomes a long-trimmed beard). Inevitably, one of my coworkers remarked: "Mike kinda looks like Al Borland."
Unfortunately, this is not the first time I've worn a plaid shirt and been said to look like Al Borland, and it wasn't the last. The forseeable future will likely be frought with Al Borland remarks for as long as people remember his sidekickery to the once successful Tim Allen on Home Improvement before what I assume will be his inevitable spiral into crystal meth and crack cocaine.
A group of us went to a club near downtown Kitchener called Club Abstract. My girlfriend Caity dressed up as Customer Service Associate Who Snapped and Went On a Murderous Rampage. Our roomate Emily dressed as Boy George, that is if he was a girl, instead of a guy dressing as a girl, and also half Jewish. Her friend Kerry dressed as "Sexy Dr. McCoy", that is if Dr. McCoy had he been a woman... and also Jewish. Everyone was oozing Halloween awesomeness.
The other people at the club had on some truly kick-ass costumes. I was amazed at the time and effort some people put into their disguises. There were a few Edward Scissorhands, a dude dressed like Orgasmo, a Bill and a Ted complete with time-travelling phonebooth, a couple as John Travolta and Uma Thurman from Pulp Fiction (Uma had a needle stuck in her chest), and for god-fucking-sakes, a Polkaroo. That disappearing-behind-a-wall-son-of-a-bitch went home with $500 for best costume.
Ever heard a club full of drunken costumed twenty-somethings cheering "POLKAROO! POLKAROO! POLKAROO!"? I never thought I would. Alcohol changes things.
A fun night. A near-perfect Halloween.
But bevare: Halloveen iz notz all zmilez and zunshine!
There's all sorts of things that can easily ruin your Halloween night, especially if you're like me and you let things ruin your fun by them merely existing. And those can be listed as follows:
1. (SEXY) CAT/BUNNY COSTUMES
How fucking UNINSPIRED can you be? Why even bother? And why is it always the same bunch of skanks with tails hanging around the bar? Are you seriously trying to pick up guys? Do you know what kind of guys you get wearing low-riding shorts with a cotton tail? These dudes:
2. PLAYBOY BUNNY COSTUMES
You are the most boring person on the face of the planet and you are killing Halloween DEAD DEAD DEAD with a giant rusty spoon, digging out its crying, pumpkin seed-filled soul, you heartless bag of suck. This isn't high school; you're older now and the irony of a Daddy's-girl becoming one of the Bunnies is even less funny than it was before. Your idea of fun likely involves getting sauced, stumbling into somebody's convertible and having fumbly sex in a college football player's dorm. You don't even need a costume for that. Just Tequila.
3. PIMPS
See #2, first sentence. Unless you are Bill Gates or confined to a wheelchair, the irony of your costume next to your low level of charisma is more sad than amusing. Please meet up with those of #1 and #2 and eat powdered bleach so you won't procreate.
4. THE JOKER
You can't all be The Dark Knight's version of The Joker. I'm sorry. In fairness, most of you have great looking costumes. Clearly you took a lot of time to get the right clothing and do up your hair and make-up. I see you even have the cheek scars. You're even all broody and angsty. Not going to smile at all tonight, are you? That's okay. At least you're not a pimp. But, there's just too goddamn many of you. I suggest a fight to the death with rusty meat hooks. No, we don't want to see your pencil trick. Stop asking.
5. PIRATES
Pirates, like vampires, Frankenstein monsters, grim reapers, and zombies, are the mainstays of Halloween. But unlike the other cliches, pirate costumes are stupid. Listen, I liked Johnny Depp's Jack Sparrow. The Pirates of the Carribean movies were decent, even for Disney. Pirate costumes are still stupid. They just are. I can't explain it. I'll excuse people for dressing up as vampires and what-not: they're the original monsters of the horror genre. Overdone, yes. But, pirates? Overdone AND stupid. They just are. I'll allow difference of opinion on this one since I'm not backing up my argument with anything by heresay.
6. SCARY MASK + REGULAR CLOTHES
Headgear is not a costume. I don't care if it's supposed to be amusing that you're wearing an Engineering Grad '07 t-shirt with a skeleton face. The contrasting nature of your mask and torso are purely accidental.
7. WAL-MART/ZELLERS, ETC.
The main source behind the Uninspired Cookie-Cutter Costumes of the Damned. Fun dies here.
8. SASKATCHEWAN
Okay, it's not really Saskatchewan's fault. Their "Halloween alternatives" are just as prevelant in other parts of Canada and the US. They aren't even really new. These alternatives include trick-or-treating during goddamn daylight hours, nixing the door-to-door thing altogether and having a party at a hall or someone's house in the suburban jungle, or just plain going to church. But... really? Saskatchewan? You're having Halloween safety concerns? There isn't really anywhere in your province for bad guys to hide. It's flat and has four corners. Check each of those.
Seriously, you're killing fun. That makes YOU murderers.
9. ADOLESCENCE
For some reason, there's an age gap between being a kid and a college student where Halloween is no longer fun and dressing up involves being either a pimp, a bunny/cat, or a Goth kid. And if you're already a Goth kid, then you belong with the rest of us chumps who were too cool (read: too boring) to dress up. Luckily, like pretending to like nu metal, it's a passing phase.
After that, you're an adult, and you've probably had enough responsibility and stress to appreciate the silliness of Halloween. And you also probably appreciate the liquor you can legally purchase. Since little kids are getting the bum rap (because, once again, parents are morons), we young adults get Halloween all to ourselves. Enjoy your Halloween party at some soccer mom's Secret Suburban Lair of Doom, little children. I'm going to have a rum & coke and pretend I can dance to Oingo Boingo.
My Halloween costume started out with a work Christmas party last year. I wore a red plaid shirt I had bought a long time ago from Mark's Work Warehouse. I don't know why I bought it. Apparently I still think this is 1992 and "Even Flow" is topping the charts.
Well, fuck off, I like plaid. If people can still get away with wearing tights and leg-warmers, I can wear a goddamn plaid shirt and pretend Pearl Jam hasn't been shifted into the Classic Rock radio rotation.
So, that night, overtop a Tool t-shirt, I wore Big Red to the Christmas party. And if you don't know what I look like, and you may not, I'm kinda flabby with dark, brown hair and a full, short-trimmed beard (unless I get lazy—then it becomes a long-trimmed beard). Inevitably, one of my coworkers remarked: "Mike kinda looks like Al Borland."
Unfortunately, this is not the first time I've worn a plaid shirt and been said to look like Al Borland, and it wasn't the last. The forseeable future will likely be frought with Al Borland remarks for as long as people remember his sidekickery to the once successful Tim Allen on Home Improvement before what I assume will be his inevitable spiral into crystal meth and crack cocaine.
CRACK COCAINE:
The Gateway Drug to Whatever The Hell is Worse Than Crack Cocaine
But, whatever. I like my beard. I like my plaid shirts. So, goddammit, I'm going to make a mockery out of it myself. Thus, I was Al Borland for Halloween.The Gateway Drug to Whatever The Hell is Worse Than Crack Cocaine
A group of us went to a club near downtown Kitchener called Club Abstract. My girlfriend Caity dressed up as Customer Service Associate Who Snapped and Went On a Murderous Rampage. Our roomate Emily dressed as Boy George, that is if he was a girl, instead of a guy dressing as a girl, and also half Jewish. Her friend Kerry dressed as "Sexy Dr. McCoy", that is if Dr. McCoy had he been a woman... and also Jewish. Everyone was oozing Halloween awesomeness.
The other people at the club had on some truly kick-ass costumes. I was amazed at the time and effort some people put into their disguises. There were a few Edward Scissorhands, a dude dressed like Orgasmo, a Bill and a Ted complete with time-travelling phonebooth, a couple as John Travolta and Uma Thurman from Pulp Fiction (Uma had a needle stuck in her chest), and for god-fucking-sakes, a Polkaroo. That disappearing-behind-a-wall-son-of-a-bitch went home with $500 for best costume.
Ever heard a club full of drunken costumed twenty-somethings cheering "POLKAROO! POLKAROO! POLKAROO!"? I never thought I would. Alcohol changes things.
A fun night. A near-perfect Halloween.
But bevare: Halloveen iz notz all zmilez and zunshine!
There's all sorts of things that can easily ruin your Halloween night, especially if you're like me and you let things ruin your fun by them merely existing. And those can be listed as follows:
1. (SEXY) CAT/BUNNY COSTUMES
How fucking UNINSPIRED can you be? Why even bother? And why is it always the same bunch of skanks with tails hanging around the bar? Are you seriously trying to pick up guys? Do you know what kind of guys you get wearing low-riding shorts with a cotton tail? These dudes:
2. PLAYBOY BUNNY COSTUMES
You are the most boring person on the face of the planet and you are killing Halloween DEAD DEAD DEAD with a giant rusty spoon, digging out its crying, pumpkin seed-filled soul, you heartless bag of suck. This isn't high school; you're older now and the irony of a Daddy's-girl becoming one of the Bunnies is even less funny than it was before. Your idea of fun likely involves getting sauced, stumbling into somebody's convertible and having fumbly sex in a college football player's dorm. You don't even need a costume for that. Just Tequila.
3. PIMPS
See #2, first sentence. Unless you are Bill Gates or confined to a wheelchair, the irony of your costume next to your low level of charisma is more sad than amusing. Please meet up with those of #1 and #2 and eat powdered bleach so you won't procreate.
4. THE JOKER
You can't all be The Dark Knight's version of The Joker. I'm sorry. In fairness, most of you have great looking costumes. Clearly you took a lot of time to get the right clothing and do up your hair and make-up. I see you even have the cheek scars. You're even all broody and angsty. Not going to smile at all tonight, are you? That's okay. At least you're not a pimp. But, there's just too goddamn many of you. I suggest a fight to the death with rusty meat hooks. No, we don't want to see your pencil trick. Stop asking.
5. PIRATES
Pirates, like vampires, Frankenstein monsters, grim reapers, and zombies, are the mainstays of Halloween. But unlike the other cliches, pirate costumes are stupid. Listen, I liked Johnny Depp's Jack Sparrow. The Pirates of the Carribean movies were decent, even for Disney. Pirate costumes are still stupid. They just are. I can't explain it. I'll excuse people for dressing up as vampires and what-not: they're the original monsters of the horror genre. Overdone, yes. But, pirates? Overdone AND stupid. They just are. I'll allow difference of opinion on this one since I'm not backing up my argument with anything by heresay.
6. SCARY MASK + REGULAR CLOTHES
Headgear is not a costume. I don't care if it's supposed to be amusing that you're wearing an Engineering Grad '07 t-shirt with a skeleton face. The contrasting nature of your mask and torso are purely accidental.
7. WAL-MART/ZELLERS, ETC.
The main source behind the Uninspired Cookie-Cutter Costumes of the Damned. Fun dies here.
8. SASKATCHEWAN
Okay, it's not really Saskatchewan's fault. Their "Halloween alternatives" are just as prevelant in other parts of Canada and the US. They aren't even really new. These alternatives include trick-or-treating during goddamn daylight hours, nixing the door-to-door thing altogether and having a party at a hall or someone's house in the suburban jungle, or just plain going to church. But... really? Saskatchewan? You're having Halloween safety concerns? There isn't really anywhere in your province for bad guys to hide. It's flat and has four corners. Check each of those.
Seriously, you're killing fun. That makes YOU murderers.
9. ADOLESCENCE
For some reason, there's an age gap between being a kid and a college student where Halloween is no longer fun and dressing up involves being either a pimp, a bunny/cat, or a Goth kid. And if you're already a Goth kid, then you belong with the rest of us chumps who were too cool (read: too boring) to dress up. Luckily, like pretending to like nu metal, it's a passing phase.
After that, you're an adult, and you've probably had enough responsibility and stress to appreciate the silliness of Halloween. And you also probably appreciate the liquor you can legally purchase. Since little kids are getting the bum rap (because, once again, parents are morons), we young adults get Halloween all to ourselves. Enjoy your Halloween party at some soccer mom's Secret Suburban Lair of Doom, little children. I'm going to have a rum & coke and pretend I can dance to Oingo Boingo.
27 October, 2008
Coraline: Because peaceful sleep is too easy
Since I don't have to take literature courses anymore, I am free to read books that I want to read, without having to keep in mind what my thesis on post-structural queer theory analysis on Marxist themes will be. Reading for pleasure! The concept is amazing.The most recent of the many books I had the pleasure, for once, to read, was Neil Gaiman's Coraline
. I had this one on my books-to-read-before-life-is-consumed-by-Grand-Theft-Auto list for a while. I decided to finally read it when I learned that it was being adapted to film by Henry Selick, the same stop-motion artist who did The Nightmare Before Christmas.Coraline has been compared to Lewis Carrol's Alice in Wonderland, an obvious connection. Both Coraline and Alice, find themselves taken from relative normalcy through a tunnel into another dimension. Though, to be more accurate, Coraline is a much more formidable opponent to the obstacles that stand in her way, more tenacious, considering the frightening environment she finds herself in.
Honestly, Coraline is Alice in Wonderland, if instead of falling down a rabbit hole in world of hallucinogen-induced weirdos and subtle allusions to drugs, Alice found herself in a psychological conniption fit of an alternate dimension in which your parental doppelgangers eat live beetles, suck out your soul to leave you an empty husk, and are willing to give you everything you could want for the small price of sowing buttons into your eye sockets.
Did I mention that this is a children's novel?
And say what you like about the Queen of Hearts, her authoritarianism doesn't match the twisted sickness of Coraline's antagonist, the Other Mother. The illustrations by Dave McKean serve to show her unsettling nature (she has BUTTONS FOR EYES, for christ's sakes), but it's in Gaiman's descriptions of her arachnid attempt at a human form that make you wish you hadn't read this before going to bed.
The funny thing is that the writing style in Coraline is clearly for a younger audience. The prose is simple and you can easily get through the book in an evening. But, Gaiman manages to tap into those childlike fears that, as an adult, you had forgotten you still had, likely because you know that they're nonsense. But, he's convincing enough and talented enough to suspend your disbelief so that you'll once again be thinking that there are multi-eyed monsters under the bed, monkeys with flamethrowers in the toilet plumbing, or rhinocegators in the vegetable crisper.
I'm hoping the movie version can keep this tone, but I doubt it. Not that Henry Selick is a bad director—quite the opposite, I think. But, what makes Coraline so fucked-up creepy is your own imagination getting carried away. Film, unfortunately, never leaves much to the imagination.
24 October, 2008
Bargain Winkers 6, Pathetic Phallusy Trailer
When you've had something for a long time, you expect to have it forever. Maybe you take it for granted a little bit. Maybe you even take advantage of it. You never expect it to... you know... literally burst into flames.
Like my XBox, which became a smokey mess of tragedy last week.
I live with my girlfriend, Caity, and we kept the older XBox in the bedroom for late-night Halo co-ops and Grand Theft Auto rampages. I was up one night playing Vice City (my favourite in the whole series), when I heard a POP!, followed by a blank TV screen and a poof a smoke and the distinct smell of burning plastic.
So I kinda yelled out "Oh, shit!" and inevitably Caity woke up to a bedroom filled with the smoke of my fried XBox.
A week later, the smell of burning plastic still lingering on pretty much everything in the bedroom, Caity and I decide to get a cheap DVD player to replace my dead friend. We went to a store in downtown Kitchener called The Bargain Store, where their store sign proudly declares everything to be a "BARGAIN! BARGAIN! BARGAIN!" We grabbed a $30 DVD player, five bags of Rockets, and a box of Dunkaraoos... because they were a bargain.
And the frosting had rainbow sprinkles.
When we got home, Caity wanted to hook up the DVD player right away, making sure everything works. When she opened the disc tray, she found what was clearly a bonus prize bestowed upon us by The Bargain Bargain Bargain Store for perusing their fine shop: a used copy of Winkers 6.
What is Winkers 6, you might ask? Well, what I gather from the image on the disc, it is the harrowing tale of at least two women's struggle to put objects up their rectal region, possibly both animate and inanimate, for the purposes of sexual gratification (or at least for the viewers manual gratification).
In the spirit of giving, we tried to give our prize to our roomate, Emily, but the picture on the disc of one slutty ho spreading the ass cheeks of her skanky bitch apparently did not appeal to her pornographic tastes, although she left us to enjoy it all ourselves.
Tip: Where do porno-creeps get their hardware? The Bargain Bargain Bargain Bargain Bargain Store. Check if box has been opened and possibly returned.
Speaking of tasteful porn, here's a trailer for Pathetic Phallusy (YouTube) that never got uploaded:
It was supposed to go up on the Newgrounds Alphas page, but Alphas hasn't been working for a month now, with no sign of being fixed anytime soon and Pathetic Phallusy having been long-since completed and uploaded for the world. Yes, it is indeed a huge pile of assfuck. Perhaps a big enough pile to make Winkers 7.
Like my XBox, which became a smokey mess of tragedy last week.
I live with my girlfriend, Caity, and we kept the older XBox in the bedroom for late-night Halo co-ops and Grand Theft Auto rampages. I was up one night playing Vice City (my favourite in the whole series), when I heard a POP!, followed by a blank TV screen and a poof a smoke and the distinct smell of burning plastic.
So I kinda yelled out "Oh, shit!" and inevitably Caity woke up to a bedroom filled with the smoke of my fried XBox.
A week later, the smell of burning plastic still lingering on pretty much everything in the bedroom, Caity and I decide to get a cheap DVD player to replace my dead friend. We went to a store in downtown Kitchener called The Bargain Store, where their store sign proudly declares everything to be a "BARGAIN! BARGAIN! BARGAIN!" We grabbed a $30 DVD player, five bags of Rockets, and a box of Dunkaraoos... because they were a bargain.
And the frosting had rainbow sprinkles.
When we got home, Caity wanted to hook up the DVD player right away, making sure everything works. When she opened the disc tray, she found what was clearly a bonus prize bestowed upon us by The Bargain Bargain Bargain Store for perusing their fine shop: a used copy of Winkers 6.
What is Winkers 6, you might ask? Well, what I gather from the image on the disc, it is the harrowing tale of at least two women's struggle to put objects up their rectal region, possibly both animate and inanimate, for the purposes of sexual gratification (or at least for the viewers manual gratification).
In the spirit of giving, we tried to give our prize to our roomate, Emily, but the picture on the disc of one slutty ho spreading the ass cheeks of her skanky bitch apparently did not appeal to her pornographic tastes, although she left us to enjoy it all ourselves.
Tip: Where do porno-creeps get their hardware? The Bargain Bargain Bargain Bargain Bargain Store. Check if box has been opened and possibly returned.
Speaking of tasteful porn, here's a trailer for Pathetic Phallusy (YouTube) that never got uploaded:
It was supposed to go up on the Newgrounds Alphas page, but Alphas hasn't been working for a month now, with no sign of being fixed anytime soon and Pathetic Phallusy having been long-since completed and uploaded for the world. Yes, it is indeed a huge pile of assfuck. Perhaps a big enough pile to make Winkers 7.
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