Fear and Loathing in Overland Park pt 113

So it begins. The hype begins anew and all I can do is fan the
flames.

We all hype and gripe about certain things. We all see things
that we don't believe the hype on and other things we believe
all hype in.

Case in point a movie with a guy wearing bat-ears.

But there are other times where hype is not the answer. Where
hype just seems misplaced, mismatched, completely strange
and really out of the ordinary.

Case in point: Captain America.

Some of you may have seen the news today about a big event
and wondered, what the hell? Why is this news?

If you're a fan of comics, or just a fan of the movies they make
of them, you may have heard how Captain America was shot
and killed in 2007.

And the press had a field day with that comic. Making it sell out
super fast.

Now today, word comes in from news media around the New York
area (at the least), that Marvel Comics is "resurrecting" Steve
Rogers Captain America and bringing him back to the forefront
in a comic called Reborn.

My first reaction, and one most people will agree with, is

who cares?

In fiction, there are so many cases where people are killed
and resurrected that it almost defeats the purpose of the
original story.

And when I say almost, it's all but a certainty.

The first thing a comic fan thinks when their favorite hero or
villain is killed or their book is cancelled is so what, when do
they come back?

It's never a question of will they come back. It's always a
question of when.

DC did the same tactic back in 1992 when they "killed" Superman
and brought him back 6 months later.

They did the same thing this year by "killing" Batman and
revamping the comics to have a younger Batman take his place.

We all know Bruce Wayne will come back. It's only a matter of
time.

So the fact that the New York Daily News and other news media
outlets have taken the bait and ran with it just seems completely
ridiculous.

Why?

Why do they feel that this is news?

Isn't there some kind of news bit about Iran, Korea, or the world
teetering on the brink of annihilation they can run?

Instead they run news about a comic book character "returning"
from the dead.

I've been a comic fan for years and years and years now. One of
the first events I was party to was, in fact, the Death and Return
of Superman.

I had fun back then.

Now it just gets ridiculous.

And this is coming from a guy who not only reads and buys comics
monthly but writes them. This is coming from a guy who has an
entire run of a couple of his favorite comic books.

This is coming from a guy who has been burnt out on those
comics that he loved and the fatigue that comes with the
constant need for sensationalism and something bigger.

The big event comics that drive comic sales right now just are
killing the industry as a whole.

When a new and inventive idea or comic comes around, most
people don't see it because they are so entrenched in the world
and continuity of one single comic universe that they can't jump
the fence and try something new.

One in particular is Rasl.

This is a comic book that doesn't feel like a comic. It feels like
artificial history as told in comic book form with so much science
fiction thrown in that it puts the Sci-Fi channel to shame.

It's from Jeff Smith, the creator of Bone, one of the all-time
greatestcomics ever created and a long-running staple of the
independent comic book world.

It's the model by which I read my comics these days.

Most people hear about comic books and all they think about
are the muscle-bound heroes and heroines who wear super-tight
clothes and punch each other.

They don't see the crazy adventures of a character named Frank
Einstein who has existential problems and fights more with his
friends than he does actual enemies.

They don't see comics that tell the story of a warrior aardvark
and think anything of it.

They don't see comics about the Holocaust that feature mice
as the Jews and cats as the Nazis and think it could be high art.

They don't look past that initial glance and see what we comic
readers know.

There are so many comic books out there that each person
in this world could read and enjoy and love and just utterly fall
in love with that if you tried to tear yourself away from it you'd
be forced to read it even more.

Each and every person in this world has something they love.
Something that they fight for.

Something in them that needs to be told. A story.

Anecdote.

Personal lessons learned. History.

Anything.

And a lot of these comics that people don't pick up are
telling those stories.

That's what I hope for.

I'm currently involved in an endeavor that involves comics and
a specific comic book in general that I am very proud to
be a part of.

I'm supposed to be going to the big San Diego Comic-Con to
help promote this book and possible series.

It's crazy. My head swells with ego but also in anticipation of
what this means for me. For it. For us.

But then I worry.

I worry about all those comic books sitting and gathering
dust and I wonder.

I wonder.

What makes us different?

Is it the fact that I've seen failure on the faces of friends who
do create?

Is it the fact that I've read book after book after comic after
comic detailing the process and what it takes?

No.

It's that I'm ready for failure. I'm prepared to make a mistake
and I'm ready for the negativity.

I'm prepared for someone to say no.

Because when I hear no, all I hear is another opportunity.

To show them what I mean.

If one person tells me no, a thousand people tell me no.

And I've heard them.

Being a writer trying to break into two all but impossible
industries prepares you for the nos.

But once that one yes comes, it's so glorious.

So as I said, the hype will begin.

My hype.

Some of the future installments will discuss the project
in detail and we will look at what is to become of this.

Our fingers are crossed.

Our choice has been made.

Now we must continue along that path.

No matter where it takes me.

Fear and Loathing in Overland Park pt 112

NIN at Starlight.

EDIT: I apologize for the length, but apparently
the blog didn't want to post properly.
Which is why I had to get creative to fit it all in.

And what a night was had by all. But let's get down in it real quick
and discuss why it took so long to get to.

First thing: last Wednesday was one of those days where calling
this Fear and Loathing makes perfect sense. To me at least.
So let me paint
you a picture.

We all know Murphy's Law.

Anything that can happen will.

I'm going to blog about it someday, but just so you know,
Murphy's Law happened in a big way.

Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.

The day started absolutely perfectly and didn't have any big
major events.

No earthquake.

No tornado.

No real rain.

My wife had set an eye appointment for her and myself
so that was going to be a thorn in my side right before NIN,
but NIN! NIN!

So went to work. Traveled alone. Road was pretty vacant
as I drove to work.

The long roads heading into town seemed
desolate.

Strange.

No rain. No movement.

Just seemed like it was me and me alone on the road.

I took a half day at work to prep for NIN.

To get myself Physical and a little ready to party.

I'm going to stop using NIN songs to write my blog
as of right now. The Wretched.

So worked my half day, and then noticed low on gas.
Fine. Whatever. No big deal.

Gas was steadily on the rise, but as I talked of previously,
what am I supposed to do?

Complain about it? Throw a temper tantrum? Or buy my
gas and drive off?

Bought gas. Drove off.

Went and got lunch. Things seemed to get a little better
from there.

Things looking up. Desolation slowly flows out of me as
I head to my apartment.

I get home and get prepared for the eye doctor visit.

What a scorcher that was going to be.

It had been a little while (over a year) since my last one,
and I wasn't looking forward to it.

Head into town, down Mission road heading toward the Corinth
area, and find the place. Gerry Optical.

Headed inside. Dressed ready for the concert (and by that,
I do not mean wearing a NIN shirt.
Nor was I wearing plastic Hot Topic clothing, black nails,
or knee highs. I was wearing proper concert attire and a
jacket since I knew it was going to get cold or rain all over me).

Step inside the Corinth Gerry Optical.

Look around.

An old man gives me a weird glare as if I'm the weirdest
thing he'd seen all day.

I want to laugh.

I want to tell him that he should go to this NIN concert
and see that I'm the furthest thing from the weirdest thing
he'll see today.

Maybe weirdest insides. But not on the outside.

He tells me I'm at the wrong place.

My happiness at being early is quickly defeated and turned
into something worse.

Something terrible.

Something monstrous.

So I leave, heading back up Mission toward 75th street to
head to Gerry Optical near 75th and Antioch.

Where I had just passed after getting off the highway.

Hey, I like the scenic route.

I get there right on time.

Get my eye visit done.

Bing bang boom. No surprises.

My eyes are fine.

Nothing new.

Nothing exciting to report.

Then it starts raining. Little by little, the rains start to fall.

My wife gets her eyes checked (at the right place, as
I was decent enough to call her and tell her
the right Gerry Optical to go
to), and she needs glasses.

Money.

Money.

Money.

So more money spent on new and exciting things,
and I'm going to a concert.

I've got a 30 pack in the back of my car, sitting in a nice cooler
with tons of ice, and I'm ready.

The rain lets up, and I head to my friend's house to pick him up.

Or at least, carpool/caravan what have you.

Me and two of mis amigos head to the concert.

Murphy's Law doesn't seem so bad anymore.

Have you ever seen PCU?

Where Piven yells at Favreau, telling him not to be
that guy?

The one who wears the concert shirt?

There were hundreds and probably thousands of those
guys.

And those girls.

Wearing the shirts.

Filling the seats.

One discussion had between my friends and I was about
concert-sitters.

Those people who are either too cool for school to stand
during the concert or just too damn lazy or too damn
boring.

There were hundreds upon thousands of those too.

Pet peeves galore.

As I'm still painting a picture (mainly to make certain people
jealous of my going and their not going), there are
still certain things to talk about.

Two guys from Iowa were there.

One had a ticket.

The other didn't.

They carpooled to KC just to see NIN and brought their german
shepherd puppy.

The dog was the shit.

And literally took a coiled shit in the parking lot of Starlight.

Glorious.

Hilarious.

More weirdness.

A Hari Krishna tried to sell one of his books to one of my
friends.

I was too busy drinking to pay attention to his religion
and his book sales.

He didn't even want to look at me.

Me?

I wanted to grab him by the back of the head and shake
the religion right out of him.

Open his eyes to the world around and how no one going
to a NIN concert that night should be interested in his teachings.

Unless they were high.

Or playing a trick on him.

So we finish the majority of the 30 pack (3 guys) and head
into the show.

Street Sweeper has started.

If you don't know who Street Sweeper is, let me just say
one name:

Tom Morello.

The lead guitarist of both Rage against the Machine and
Audioslave and the guy behind Night Watchman is now
the lead guitarist for Street Sweeper.

The lead singer is Boots or Boo somebody or other.

He looked and acted like a cross between Lenny Kravitz
and Zach de la Rocha.

But why would anyone care about Street Sweeper?

They spread their message of peace through rock music.

Strange I know.

But they tried to get everyone to text them something
or other to get on a list to get news and updates about
how we can help save the world.

I just came to see Morello play.

And he did.

Very well.

So well in fact that the only thing I could decide then
and there was that the only other band I saw at Starlight
previously, The White Stripes, needed to have a guitar-off
with Tom Morello.

Jack White vs Tom Morello

That would be a guitar-off that would literally shake the sky
and make our faces melt off.

Watching Tom do his thing, sans hat, was a little weird.

But awe-inspiring.

And depressing at the same time.

I knew at that moment, same as when I watched the White
Stripes, that I would never be as good as Morello.

I would just pale in comparison.

The main event: NIN.

All night, we waited.

And waited.

Patiently trying to figure out who would be the backing band.

Would it be a reunion for the original NIN?

This was their last show so it was possible.

Would it be a consortium of weirdoes that he'd always
wanted to tour with and play with before he trailed off into
the horizon?

See above.

It was neither.

It was a standard backing band. It was his choice.

Fink on guitar, and two others who did a fantastic job but
never really heard of before.

He opened with Wave Goodbye, a new song (?) that pretty
much is summed up by the title.

That immediately broke into Terrible Lie and immediately
kicked the night's ass and made me happy as all hell
to be there.

He played songs like The Wretched.

March of the Pigs.

Physical.

Wish.

Songs from all over the place. Collector. Hurt. Burn.

Survivalism and Physical were my two favorites of the night.

Watching Trent, dressed in full Freddie Mercury-esque attire,
singing and basically barking into the microphone on
Survivalism was outstanding.

Physical made me laugh because he said here's one from
the beginning and everyone immediately thinks Closer.

Boom, Physical.

Not many people know that song from Broken but by
Veloci-jesus it's an amazing song that people should know.

And we got to see him.

We got to enjoy it.

I had some dick standing still, motionless in front of me.

That pissed me off.

Him and his goon buddies knew some of the songs, thank
the lord, but for the most part, they stood there.

They didn't sit though.

Two people in front of us, a couple loving on each other very
much, sat and stood only for the sake of seeing.

They didn't know the songs.

They didn't care to learn them.

They just looked at the weirdos as they sung along.

They were apparently there to see Jane's Addiction,
so whatever.

I was not.

I was there to see Trent and enjoy myself.

And I did.

Worst part of the night was the standing on a concrete
slope for 2 hours.

With a bad ankle.

And drizzle from time to time sprinkling down on us.

That was it though.

The night was capped by leaving the venue after NIN
was finally done (because who the hell cares
about Jane's Addiction) and finishing off the 30 pack.

Beautiful.

We did hear some of the Jane's songs, and they were just
what you would come to expect from him and them.

Trent and NIN were damn near perfection.

One of the best concerts I've ever seen (close to Tool at
Memorial Hall or APC at Municipal Auditorium).

Starlight is an amazing place to see a concert.

Just turn around and look at all the people behind you
and then look at all the people in front of you.

It's amazing.

It's absurd.

It's amazing.

Trent played a lot more guitar/piano/keyboard
than I expected.

After seeing Tool 3 times in my life, you get used to
Maynard picking up the guitar for half a song.

Trent had the guitar attached to him quite often.

It was real showmanship.

It was good to be a part of this, especially if it's one
of the last he does.

But nothing merch came home with me.

I'm not about to spend 40-75 dollars for a shirt/sweatshirt
I can buy for 10 online. I'm sorry.

And Starlight?

Get your head out of your ass.

Having one merch tent for a GIANT venue seems completely
ridiculous to me.

The two shows I've seen there have had lines longer than
the ones to see the Star Wars movies in theater just to get
to the front of the line and NOT buy a shirt for 40 dollars.

Ridiculous.

Aren't you jealous?

Fear and Loathing in Overland Park pt 111

I'm back with the Apocalypse this time. And it's a doozy.

Why are we, as human beings, so interested in endings? So interested in how things transpire and what comes next?

Is it our voyeuristic lifestyle? One dominated by reality TV, TMZ, gossip rags and Perez Hilton pointing their fingers at people and mocking them while placing them firmly in the limelight where they want to be?

Is it our religious background as a country, one in which an entire book was written about the end of days?

Or is it something far worse? Far more menacing?

We'll see.

Terminator Salvation comes out today. We've all seen the previews. We all know it's about the apocalypse and the war versus the machines. Blah blah blah. Yadda yadda yadda.

It follows the tradition of so many post-apocalyptic movies that we're just going through the motions at this point (and I haven't even seen the damn thing).

Blade Runner
Escape from New York
Escape from L.A.
Dawn of the Dead, Shaun of the Dead, Day of the Dead, Night of the Living Dead, Land of the Dead, etc etc
The Day After
The Day After Tomorrow
Friday after Next
I am Legend
The Omega Man
I am Legend
I am Omega
The Aliens franchise
Mad Max and the sequels
The Matrix films

You get the picture. There are a lot and that's barely scratching the surface. BARELY.

What is so astoundingly interesting about apocalypse movies that we're always looking to tell the story of what happens at the end of the world or what happens after the end of the world?

It's us.

Look at the line-up of television programming that's coming up. One very disgusting show will start this summer and will be the bane of television watching forever. Hopefully it will get cancelled in record time, but I doubt it.

I'm a celebrity, get me out of here. Or whatever the hell it's called.

So called celebritards like the guy who looks and acts like a girl from American Idol, the idiots from the Hills, and countless other nonlebrities are in the show and we the viewers get to choose what happens to them on the show.

I highly doubt that we get to pick if they fight Fireball, Buzzsaw or Dynamo, just like I'm sure there won't be a great host like Richard Dawson's Killian.

That's Running Man folks. Another post-apocalyptic (kinda) future film where people bet on reality gameshows and the people on them die if they lose.

I would watch this show in a heartbeat.

Every time my wife watches America's Next Top Model and someone gets "eliminated," I cross my fingers.

But it never happens.

And I know why I love the post-apocalypse and the apocalypse.

I'm a cynic.

I'm a very cruel and unusual person.

I look at the film the Mist and love the ending.

I love movies with real world endings. That's why of the three Terminator films, the third one had the best ending. By far.

That's why during Armageddon I rooted for the asteroid.

I'm a cynic.

I won't watch reality TV because they don't get "eliminated." They don't get fired out of a cannon. They just move on and get the rest of their 15 minutes of fame doing asshole TV like Dancing with the Stars or any of those TV game shows that really have no reason to exist.

But here we are, another apocalypse movie coming out, and there's damn sure another on the horizon (The Road, which will be discussed in much more depth at a later date).

So why does civilization care about the apocalypse? Why do we need to see how things end and how they restart?

It's a point of interest for all of us. We want to know how things end.

My wife goes to the end of the book first and reads the ending before she goes back and reads through the entire book.

It's strange I know, but whatever.

Being a Catholic school kid (14 years woo!), revelations and the apocalypse and the fire and brimstone was more interesting than he begat her who begat him who begat her who begat them who begat these guys who begat us and you and them and those and so on and so forth.

Still with me?

The apocalypse is a way of pushing our beliefs of the after-life into the open. Even though we should be aware that once you're dead, that's it.

You're dead.

Worm food.

Dirt.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

You get the picture. And yeah, I'm just a ball of happiness today. Obviously.

So what is it? Is it fantasy? Creating a world where even after we have the end of the world there is still a world left (which makes no sense)?

Or is it something more internal?

An internal worry that boils down to humanity and our self-esteem. Our self-worth. A need to be loved.

To be cherished.

To be important.

We don't want to think that once the end happens, that's it. No more fight. No more life. No more anything.

It's just over.

No salvation.

No happiness.

No golden gates and fluffy clouds.

We just cease to be.

No one really wants to believe that's the case.

They want to believe that once it's over, there's more to the story. That the old saying that there is always more to the story means there really is. That the ending is never final.

Never a period, always an ellipsis.

Never the end.

The end is the beginning.

But here we sit, looking toward the year 2012 and the Mayan calendar stating doom approaches, and what do we do?

We release another film about what happens after something massive is destroyed and something explosive occurs.

We are at war with machines.

We are at war with each other.

The world is over. But we're still fighting to save what little we have left.

The apocalypse should mean doom, ending, final, absolute.

But to us it's all just getting started.

Fear and Loathing in Overland Park pt 110

All this plus a sunburn.

This week sure was a blast. And by blast, I mean a warp speed blast in the face. No wait, no I don't. I haven't and plan not to see Star Trek.

Call it hatred.

Call it whatever you want.

I call it ankle pain.

Ankle pain you say?

What do you mean by that?

Well, let's paint a picture shall we.

Months ago, or, a long time ago in an apartment somewhere in Overland Park, this writer had a pop happen in his ankle.

Nothing major as he pops his ankle similar to popping one's knuckles.

Daily.

Frequent.

And boy does it feel oh so good.

Well, this time it didn't.

It felt like bone rubbing against bone.

It felt like hot irons scalding the bottom of my brain.

It felt like something stabbed out of my leg and into the ground, got caught, and then toppled me face down into the mud.

In reality, what was it?

See, therein lies the problem.

And the beginning of this new chapter of Fear and Loathing.

The fun-loving narrator takes a trip to the doctor, not once, not twice, but thrice.

First trip: standard doctor. Not a bone/joint specialist. But standard medical practicioner.

Take my trip with a smile and a laugh.

X-Rays taken.

Nothing to show for it except a bill and some anti-inflammatory pills.

Bing, month after month pass. Pill jar empty.

Anti-inflammatory does nothing. We're back and worse than ever.

Get a call from the doc's office telling me x-rays show nothing tangible. Nothing of value. No arthritis that they can see.

No breaks. No cracks.

No bruising.

No nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

I chuckle. I wait for the punchline.

Nothing of value or substance can be found, so maybe you're just faking it.

That's what people think.

That's the response I always gather.

Move forward.

A little while passes (a couple of months actually as my wife lost her job and it just was a stupid time in the world to try and waste time going to the doctor, more on that later), and call the doctor's office again.

Same scenario, except instead of not finding anything, I called and basically told them it's worse. Do something.

No more jokes. No more hassle.

Fix this.

So I went to a bone and joint specialist (almost went to KCBJ just because the name is so funny) and spent money on two visits and an MRI.

More X-Rays.

More tests.

More bull.

Nothing.

The doctor kind of chuckled as he told me they have no idea what's wrong with me but they think they have some ideas.

I laughed.

Heartily.

Because this is what I expected. Every trip to the doctor is the same.

Exactly the same.

No clue what's wrong.

Sorry.

Tough break.

Deal with it.

More x-rays.

More shots.

Cortisone shot in my ankle.

That hurt like hell. I'm now in an ankle brace so my soccer days are behind me for the time being.

That and dancing.

And kung fu.

And anything where your ankle needs to be used, like walking and driving.

We'll see how that goes. All the x-rays and shots and test make me feel like I may turn into a super-human.

Or my skin might explode and I might turn into a giant green monster who smashes things.

That, or just die of radiation poisoning.

But what's next?

What's next the loyal reader asks with baited breath?

What's next is who the hell knows.

I deal with it. Went to my brother's graduation and got baked by the sun.

That was enjoyable.

And by enjoyable, I got the same sense of enjoyment as putting a giant hole in the side of my head and licking the insides of my lips if they were covered with nitroglycerin.

To say that these last few weeks have been anything but a joy would be an understatement.

But to each their own.

At least we've got the end of the world to look forward to. Or Angels and Demons.

Here's a thought, a brief non sequitor. While building a bookshelf, I had to alphabetize the books before I put them back on the shelf.

What would a Vs. movie between Angels in America and Angels and Demons be called?

Angels and Demons in America?

Angels vs Angels in Demons?

Does anyone still care?

Did anyone see Angels and Demons and think it needed more sub-plots about AIDs?

Or actual Angels?

Or just more Hooch?

Fear and Loathing in Overland Park pt 109

We're back. We're trying to make this a more often occurrence, so let's talk about Star Trek. Let's talk about my hatred of Star Trek and how it continues to grow.

It continues to grow as days go by and it has something to do with the new film.

I wouldn't go so far as to say hatred. I guess that's the wrong word. More a distaste. Boredom. Sheer who cares.

That's it. Who cares?

So as the movie starts rearing it's ugly head, getting closer and closer to it's release date, I can't shed the thought that I just don't care.

The trailers seem overwrought. Over-epic. Everything is so important and so completely breathtaking that I just step back and ask, who cares?

Just like the new Angels and Demons, who cares?

I'm in the mood for entertainment. I want to go and have fun. I don't want to go and see Simon Pegg on screen for 15 minutes. I want to see him as the star of the flick.

I don't want to see a spaceship ram another spaceship for 2 hours. I want to see people using their noggins and actually thinking of new ways to fight.

Seriously, didn't every episode of Star Trek essentially boil down to a big car crash, every single episode?

You know which Star Trek I liked?

Picard's crew. They were the badasses. They didn't take shit from nobody. They came in, used their heads, and actually did shit. And they fought the Borg. Not some pussy ass who passes as an alien because he has weird tattoos.

Today, that would pass as the guy downtown with the face tats who brings a video camera into movie theaters and no one says anything to him because he has face tats.

I'm not scared of Eric Bana in this film.

Eric Bana in Funny People however...

It seems like this is the summer of who cares. Hollyweird doesn't really have that many movies that are appealing to my instincts.

To my love.

The only major releases left that I care to see are The Hangover and Terminator Salvation. I think. I could be wrong. Those are the major releases I want to see. And here's why:

Hangover has Zach Galifinakis. Been a fan for a long time, have seen most movies he's been in (Bubble Boy, Below, the list goes on). And really appreciate the fact that he's in a major release coming out to major theaters that people will want to see.

He gives beard-growers everywhere someone to look up to without having to go and search the history books.

He's right alongside Bradley Cooper who I don't mind and Ed Helms who I downright like but there is one other thing I'm looking forward to in this movie. Besides Mike Tyson singing Phil Collins.

It's the Dan Band.

If you don't know, just find them on Youtube.

Now Terminator, it goes without saying. I have my reservations. It's directed by McG. A lot of people are going to see this to see if they can spot Bale's on-set meltdown.

Me? I grew up in the world of Terminator. Just like GI Joe and Transformers (both movies look like utter dogshit and I will get to those soon), Terminator 1 and 2 still sit on the shelf of badassness that came in my childhood and made me want to emulate these badass characters.

But then they made a sequel that had only one redeeming quality (the ending) and it made me want something to wash the taste out of my mouth (sadly, the TV show did not accomplish this).

The closest thing to a good Terminator we've had in a long time is the comics, and they've only been midway between good and shit. Some good. Some horrible. None completely insane.

But watching the trailers with the Day the Whole World Went Away by NIN playing in the background and Christian Bale with his Bat-rasp voice, it just gives me goosebumps. It excites me in ways that Star Trek bores me.

It makes me want to plop my ass in the seat.

Now besides Up which I will see and one other movie that I will talk about in a minute, nothing else appeals to me.

Could give less than half a shit about Angels and Demons. I've never read the book, will never read the book, saw the first movie and spent the whole time laughing in the theater, and I think it's safe to say we all know my thoughts on Catholicism, Christianity, and organized religion in general. Ten bucks says I guess the ending and villain without seeing it.

Harry Potter? Yawn. Just be over with already. You have no idea the sheer happiness that will flow from me once those movies are no longer being made and once Twilight is done too. It will just make me jump for joy.

Transformers 2: Electric Boogaloo. Can anyone tell me what the movie is about? Revenge of the Fallen? Who cares? All the preview wants to show us is robots punching and flipkicking other robots. Megan Fox's fox. Massively self-important shots of Shia Ledouche going away to college. I mean seriously, do we need those shots staring up at him as if this is the most important event in history? He's going to college. Who cares?

Then there's GI Joe. One movie that will find my hatred welling up at times while I try to reminisce about the good old days when Government Issue Joe was a real American Hero and not some stupid global terrorist unit.

Now I know, a movie about a Real American Hero wouldn't sell in China or North Korea. I understand that. The logistics make sense.

But why is GI Joe Team America? Is this the big-budget live-action remake? Because that's the sense I get when you show "Cobra" melting/destroying the Eiffel Tower and just out and out looking like bobble-headed morons. Oh, and the team wears NFL Superpro/Iron Man costumes? When did that happen?

They make them Six Million Dollar Men and Iron Men all in one instance? The only thing I can make of that is that's the only way to make us believe that Channing Tatum could ever actually fight terrorists, with the assistance of technology and assistance of special effects. He can't dance in this one folks.

The movie looks like dogshit. Pure and simple.

There are other movies that will gather my ire. I'm interested in Inglorious Basterds, not sure if I care much about it but I will see it. There is one movie however that interests me. One that I will be finding any way possible that I can.

Hell or high water, I will see Moon.

Starring Sam Rockwell. Kevin Spacey. And a whole hell of a lot of space all around one tiny spaceship and one man going nuts.

Low-budget sci-fi. Big brains. Big ideas. A man on a 3 year space jaunt and is being sent back to Earth.

This film interests me for a lot of reasons. Namely, it stars Sam Rockwell.

That should state everything you need to know, but Spacey is the computer, his only friend while on the moon, and the movie just makes me want to smile.

People don't make movies like this that often. It will probably be hard to find this movie in KC unless one of the smaller theaters gets it for one week's time.

But if you lined this up against the big budget idiocies due out this summer, I will be more inclined to see this than Transformers. Or GI Joe. Or Harry Potter.

And most certainly more than Star Trek.

Fear and Loathing in Overland Park pt 108

He's back and this time it's personal.

Like Mr. Gooch, I find myself in something of a conundrum these days. Something of a quandary. I am going to see movies, and more and more, I'm liking the films that are just pure entertainment.

Things that aren't high art. Things that just push me to enjoy them. And I think I know when and where it started. I think I can pinpoint the exact moment where my need for entertainment and my need for film fun just jumped and formed together like two Ron Silvers at the end of Timecop.

It was my groomal shower.

Now this was a little while back. Back in 2007 even. So it's been about 2 years now. And I'm okay with that. I'm just coming to terms with it now.

The night of my groomal shower (devoted, of course, not to female bridal shower events like games and fun, but more to drinking and testosterone) involved pizza, beer, and action movies.

All in all, a glorious event would be had.

And while with a group of guys, you don't watch movies like the Fountain that make you think.

You watch Judge Dredd. Demolition Man. The Rambo movies. The Running Man.

You watch movies that are pure enjoyment and completely against any kind of message (and even the ones that think they are giving you a message are really just explosions and boobs).

I renewed my love affair with man movies, and I've not looked back since.

I don't even care.

I'm a film fan. A critic. Someone who can find the bad in just about any movie. A friend of mine challenged me to that recently, to watch a film I completely would never watch and just try to find some joy in it.

Let me tell you, that movie was Crank 2: High Voltage.

I had never seen all of Crank. I wasn't interested in it.

It seemed overwrought. Trying too hard. Just sheer nonsense and a real waste of time.

It wasn't anything special like say The Protector, anything by Stephen Chow, or Oldboy.

It was just an action movie.

So I go and see Crank 2. And I will never turn back again. I will never question Jason Statham's abilities again.

This movie has something for film fans to just sheer love and fall in love with and want to watch a million times over.

It has a Kaiju scene. It has sex. It has drugs. It has blood and gore and insane amounts of violence and it has Corey Haim.

That's right, the other Corey.

If you've ever seen a Troma film, you know the sheer joy (which is kinda becoming the mantra of this blog) that comes from those movies. They are horrible and stupid and just plain dumb all over, but if you've ever seen one, ever just pure enjoyed it, then you'll know.

You'll know from jump that this is the closest thing we'll ever get to a Troma film on screen.

It has Q from Next Generation as a swearing news reporter. It has guest stars galore like Dennis from It's Always Sunny. It has Lauren Holly. Bai Ling. Corey Haim. Maynard James Keenan and Danny Lohner. Chester Bennington. David Carradine.

You heard me. Maynard James Keenan and Danny Lohner.

They play a gay couple trying to make their dog obedient. And it's solid gold.

But Jason Statham is the big dog here. He's the reason to see the movie. He plays this so well that you just want him to keep making more and more movies like this. You want him to just go ape-crazy on film and be a part of these spectacular extravaganzas.

You want him to be a part of this something special every so often.

The movie is outstanding. Stupid, but just so much fun you can't help but laugh. And I dare you to look away.

I dare you.

Then comes Wolverine.

A movie that had a lot of things going against it, but in spite of it all, showed me exactly what a summer movie, and a lot of comic movies, should strive to do.

Entertain us.

Not be heady and annoying and try really hard to be important like Watchmen.

Just be the Rambo of the comic book universe and be enjoyable fun. Be a movie that makes no qualms about it. If it had been made in the 80s, it would have fit right in alongside Commando and Rambo and people would not have questioned a thing.

But because people go in expecting Dark Knight and come out getting Rambo 3, they get a little perturbed.

So it, as always, will boil down to choice.

Choose whether you go see a movie expecting anything or go in expecting nothing. Go in wanting to have a good time and you'll be happy.

Go in expecting Dark Knight and you'll get Watchmen.

Go in expecting Wanted and you'll get Iron Man.

All I'm saying is, movies are entertainment. They don't all have to be significant and tell something important about someone important.

They can just be.

Unless you're Star Trek, then you'll have to be the most important thing in the known universe.

Fear and Loathing in Overland Park 107

I need to get better. Jesus do I need to get better at posting on here.

Tax day, another in a long line of reasons why we can't have nice things.
Or can we?

This is my second tax day as a married man. And it's a weird feeling. Doing
my taxes really frustrates me as I'm an easily frustrated guy.

Small stuff gets to me.

But this is big stuff, this is taxes. This is money that our country seems
to need so badly that I should feel honored to assist them in paying back
debts.

But I don't.

No one is standing next to me cutting the heads off chickens to decide what
should happen for my tax break.

Though I wish life was more like South Park, that isn't very likely to ever
happen.

Now, because of the way my parents brought me up, taxes were completed
early this year. Just like last year and every year before that.

And before that.

Before that.

And so on and so forth.

Since I've been working since I was 14 years old, the last two years of my
life, the two married years, came with a little bit of extra-happiness.

I got money back.

I actually got money back.

The deductions helped.

But no kids. No mortgage. No massive expenses. Nothing really affecting my
credit score.

Though I do have the need to buy frivolous things, don't we all?

So this tax day came with a small glimmer of hope. Another check to assist
in my ongoing struggle to pay off my credit card and my school bills.

Just like millions of other people, I'm in debt.

We've talked about this before.

But tax day is seen as a general blight on society. Something that causes
people to freak out and see the world trying to take their money away and
treat them like heathens and bastards and general scum of the Earth.

When in reality, we should all be looking at tax day as just another day.
Another unfortunate day of life where something slightly different than the
norm happens.

Slightly different.

I mean, we all pay taxes on everything we buy, right? We don't live in New
Hampshire or Oregon, we live in Kansas and Missouri.

So we pay taxes.

On food.

Gas.

Cigarettes.

Beer.

Clothing and books and movies and everything else we purchase.

So we pay taxes. It's a normal thing for us.

But the sheer sense of earning and need outweighs this day because it's a
day filled with greed and wanting. It's a day where people look at the big
brother government as taking their "hard-earned" funds away and putting it
toward things they don't agree with.

Like a trillion dollar deficit. Or building schools. Bridges. Green
initiatives.

You know, things that might help save the world.

So because the idea of paying a chunk of taxes at once to your government
is so disgusting, people are throwing Tea Parties.

That's right, Tea Party.

Just like the Boston Tea Party way back during the Revolutionary War which
protested big brother Britain and their power over the colonies, people are
using these Tea Parties as a way to rebel against paying taxes.

In an absolutely stupid way.

I'm not a fan of government. I'm sure everyone knows who I voted for. It's
not hard. I don't believe in big spending, but I also believe in freedom.

Freedom to assemble. Freedom of choice. Freedom of speech.

Basic freedoms that we all deserve no matter how stupidly we decide to
display them.

And displaying our freedoms as a tea party against taxes just seems so
completely idiotic that it makes no sense to me at all.

Why?

Most people who will take part in these tea parties are people who voted
for McCain. People who agree that the world needs change and policies and
believe that fixing the US will take time and effort but they also think
that things were generally okay.

They just don't want to fix things if it costs money. Especially their own.

These are the people that are easily swept up in the next big craze or fad.
People that hate others who are brainwashed but are just as easily
brainwashed on their own end.

They don't think for themselves.

They look around the world and see what's trendy and empathize with that
and then steal it for themselves.

Like Tea Parties.

These are people who look at the last 8 years as progress. Moving forward.
Making the world a better place.

Yet "progress" to them entails protesting in a way that harkens back to the
1700s when slavery was no big deal and when owning land meant killing your
neighbors and taking the land for yourself.

You know, good old American progress.

These people believe that the American system should stay free market and
should stay the course. Stay the way it was and that will eventually right
everything and everyone out in the end.

They apparently haven't seen the "prosperity" that this thinking has
afforded the world.

They apparently don't have friends and family who have lost their jobs and
have had to stay with other family members after losing everything they
own.

Like I said, good old American progress.

Care about yourself first and your neighbor second.

Really goes to show how far we've made it these last 200 years, huh? Ever
since that first Tea Party.

I'm not for big government spending, I just want things to get better.

I don't think staying the course of the last 8 years would have been a good
idea. I also don't think judging our present in a way that uses the past to
create some form of protest just seems utterly ridiculous.

What's next?

People joining this protest will demand that the world go back to the
politics of the 18th Century. So I'll be allowed to own you. You'll be
allowed to shoot me for my land. And we can all marry our cousins.

Or...

We can actually move forward into the future and surpass this old way of
thinking.

This old way of getting things accomplished or letting things happen as
they have to just seems to be so completely ridiculous.

But you go right ahead and have yourself a tea party. A tea party.

Seriously? No wine? No nothing? Just a tea party?

And the best part is, these people believe that this protest will
accomplish something.

It will.

Anyone who goes and doesn't pay their taxes because they think they are
doing the work necessary to them to make a statement will probably end up
in jail, or at least, with legal action or a nice severe audit taken
against them.

Just look at Method Man. Wesley Snipes. And all the millions of people who
don't pay taxes because they forgot.

But you go ahead and have your tea party. See if it accomplishes anything
at all.

Or you can make a choice and be an adult. See how that works out.

But it's up to you. As always, the choice is yours to make. Let's see how
this works out.