by Shaker WhimsyMacabre, an Arizona resident who totally misses Janet Napolitano, an artist specializing in assemblage, collage, and jewelry, a Mama to two lovely boys, and the partner of a swell guy who not only brings home lovely bits of rusty junk with which to make art, but wouldn't describe himself as "macho" without a large cash bribe.
Hey, Shakers! So, the other day I discovered a big, greasy lump of mansplaining, courtesy of the Wall Street Journal! And I shared it with Melissa, because I am all generous like that. And since she is all generous like that too, she asked if I would like to pass it on to you! How could I refuse?
Now first off, I have to say that, much like Butch Pornstache, I am no fan of Twilight. I'm not just jumping on the hater bandwagon; I have read it the first two books in their entirety, and the third one about halfway through before I screamed and chucked it across the room like it was on fire. Craptastic writing aside, it is saturated with all sorts of creepy, patriarchal grossness, not to mention a bunch of totally subtle, and not at all obvious Mormon argle-bargle.
I do understand why this doo-doo is so appealing to so many—the Mary Sue lead character, the whirlwind romance, the breathless declarations of eternal devotion, the idea of two dreamboats who both long for you, and only you...it isn't hard to figure out, especially for anyone who has ever been a teenage girl. I get it, and I probably would have been one of those screaming, flush-cheeked, hormone saturated "Twi-hards" had I been born about 20 years later. In fact, I am sure I would have.
* shuffles feet around in an embarrassed manner *
Of course, none of that alters the fact that the whole series is cat doots. (And I know from cat doots.)
But check this out! It is wisdom! Manly wisdom, from an extremely wealthy dude who actually describes himself as "macho" no less than three times, and who wants us all to know that he has been "caught in a vortex of meteoric movement in every aspect of life and that has intensified on a cosmic scale the last few weeks." You had no IDEA that being a real estate tycoon was so very, very much like being a deity, or at the very least a mythological figure along the lines of Heracles, did you, you obsequious peon? DID YOU? You know better now.
Behold!
I have had an agonizingly tough couple of weeks and have survived on pure adrenaline in the midst of tumult, controversy, tough negotiations with business counterparts, and a grueling travel itinerary that was challenging even for me. One of the recent meetings was in Turkey with our Mars partners. I made arrangements to have a bit of yacht time with them. When the meeting got cancelled I did the unthinkable for me, have a little down time all to myself. I boarded the gorgeous but stark Turkish Gulet right as the sun was setting. As I made my way into the main cabin I saw something so frightening it left me speechless. There, staring up at me from the ebony coffee table was a book. On the cover was a gorgeous red apple nestled between two soft and caring hands. Between the hands were written the words that strike terror in the hearts of every macho, red-blooded male…TWILIGHT. AAAARRRGGGGHHHH!! Alone, on a boat, with no wifi, no satellite, no magazines, no newspapers, just me and this book. This piece of chick lit, teeny bopper heartthrob stuff. Terror on the high seas! I wanted nothing to do with any of it. Not relevant, not interesting.
What is it that makes Stephanie Meyer a "total genius" in Mr. Macho's estimation? The ability of the reader to put herself in Bella's place, as Bella's character is so underdeveloped. I only have one thing to say about his amazing discovery: Holy crap, you figured that out all alone on your yacht with no help whatsoever? Talk about "conquering new frontiers and new themes on a daily basis"!
As I sat there with nothing to do the book kept taunting me. I began to think that there must be something I don’t understand. What could it be? What is it all about? Women don’t just read these books, they live them. They become each paragraph. I picked it up, but then immediately dropped it like a hot coal. What if someone saw me reading this? My macho reputation would be finished! I would be kicked out of the bench press section of the gym. My polo compadres would send me packing to the pony rides and my surfing buddies would exile me to the kiddie pool.
But it was a long night and there was absolutely nothing, and I mean NOTHING else to do. Long story short – not only did I read Twilight, I read the other two as well!! I was fascinated, captivated even. However, what intrigued me was not the same thing that hooked the millions of women whose lives and had been changed by this series, but something else entirely.
For you male Colonists, here is a brief synopsis. Stubborn teenage girl meets a handsome but moody vampire and against all odds they fall in love.
Here is my macho take – Stephanie Meyer is a total genius.
BTW, here is a quote from the genius author herself: "[I] left out a detailed description of Bella in the book so that the reader could more easily step into her shoes." Seriously. This isn't a new concept. I guess being a tycoon doesn't leave much time for reading genre fiction. Which is a big reason I am glad to be an artist instead, despite the appalling lack of yachts.
But Twilight doesn't just give Mr. Macho new insight into common literary techniques. No—it also gives him new insight into women!
I definitely got that the "anticipation" was much more romantic and sexy than the "consummation" to the woman. Slow, patient, caring, tender…. (guys have you heard those words before?) I found him incredibly appealing as he was taking care of Bella, putting her first, distancing himself from her to protect her and yet never being able to get her out of his mind. The relationship stood the test of time through many years, other men, family challenges and misconceptions of valiant and loving acts. A human relationship with a vampire is challenging on many levels, the least of which being you get older as your partner remain timeless. It was enticing, captivating, alluring…and dangerous. Through it all she believed that she could do it…. change her life… change his life…make it different…in spite of what conventional wisdom dictated.
This is some serious mansplaining. This macho genius has the ladies all figured out now that he has lowered himself to reading Twilight! Which, let us recall, he read not because he had gotten in touch with his feminine side; that would be icky, and his surfing and polo playing buddies would laugh and throw tampons at him! Or something. No! It was because one night he was soooooo bored on his luxury yacht! Which makes my married-to-a-guy-who-just-got-laid-off heart bleed for him, truly.
Every woman longs for the anticipation, the romance, the journey, the taboo, the patience, and the attentiveness. Men, however, are all about the destination, the result, the speed and the outcome. The journey is merely penance to get to the destination. Which is why despite the vampires and werewolves, this book is kryptonite to most men.
…Once I ventured into the books I learned something. I now understand why some women are emotionally altered from merely reading a book. I have also gained a deeper realization that understanding the circumstances and points of views of those with whom we are negotiating, working, living, loving or fighting is the key determinant factor in an enduring relationship.
So this is the astonishing revelation about the lady brains has Twilight bestowed upon him: "Every woman longs for the anticipation, the romance, the journey, the taboo, the patience, and the attentiveness."
And this the companion revelation about men: "Men, however, are all about the destination, the result, the speed and the outcome."
What we have learned from Mr. Cosmic Real Estate Agent, then, is that all women—every single one of us—long for the same thing, which is apparently to be wooed in a manner that bears a sneaking resemblance to being pursued by a stalker. An attentive, patient, dead stalker. Who is also romantic. Ladies do not even think about the possible results of said pursuit, or if they do, it is in some kind of fuzzy, soft-focus manner, with billowing white curtains and the surf sighing away in the distance. Results are for penis-havers, who want to get to their desired outcome with all speed. Because that is macho.
Now, some silly womenfolk may get it into their heads that maybe sex (when you finally get there) with a manly man who is "all about the destination, the result, the speed, and the outcome" might not be quite worth all that anticipation. Some of them might even decide that macho is something that straight ladies looking for love should avoid like asbestos. Just a thought.
Hey, here's another thought: I wonder why it is that " None of the 21 senior-management executives and six of the 30 'other senior executives' listed on [Mr. Macho's company] website are women." That's a real head-scratcher.
----------------------------------
If you would like to read a breakdown of the whole Twilight thing that won't make you want to vomit, I recommend the very comprehensive one written by Cleolinda at Occupation: Girl. You can find it here.
Mansplaining: Just What Twilight Needed!
You Know What You Need?
A Labyrinth trailer from 1986:
Transcript:
VO: "Jim Henson's puppets, George Lucas' laser beams and David Bowie's God-given ass finally unite for the awesomest movie since Dark Crystal." Jennifer Connelly spends the next minute and a half running around an M.C. Escher painting while being chased by David Bowie and about nine thousand muppets. "Labyrinth: Coming June 27th!"
[Cross-posted.]
USA: Beacon of Stupid - Leveraging the Lord
In his attempt to get elected to office, Congressional candidate Ed Martin takes to the airwaves to give new meaning to "lowest common denominator." Using the tried and true strategy of fear, combined with unwavering devotion to Christ, he delivers quite an astonishing message to his prospective constituents:
One thing I like to say is: America is great, not because of our genetics. We're great because we created a place and space where people can be free. And they can choose Christ, they can choose to be faithful. They can worship, and they find their way to the Lord. And -- or some of them don't. We sure want them all to, but some of them don't.Now, if I read this right, it sounds like Ed is saying that Obama is actively inhibiting everyone's ability to become a Christian.
And part of that freedom -- when you take a government and you impose, and take away all your choices. One of the choices you take away is to find the Lord. And find your savior.
And that's one of the things that's most destructive about the growth of government. It's this taking away that freedom. The freedom -- the ultimate freedom, to find your salvation, to get your salvation. And to find Christ, for me and you.
And I think that's one of the things that we have to be very, very aware of that the Obama Administration and Congressman Carnahan are doing to us.
Are you kidding me?
I'm not sure which bothers me more: The unequivocally high level of fuckery of his statement, or the jaw-dropping level of ignorance of the people who would totally fall for this shit.
[H/T to C&L]
On San Fermin in Nueva Orleans
by Shaker Anitanola
[Trigger warning for scenes and descriptions of consensual play violence.]
I started to write a note to Liss just because I thought the video was fun and this is what happened. This gulf thing is breaking my heart so I was very glad to have this to think about instead. You know how I love roller girls.
[Description of video: Various scenes of celebration during San Fermin in Nueva Orleans—roller girls dressed in red and black and revelers in white clothes and red kerchiefs, all running down the streets together, laughing and shouting and carrying-on, in a big recreation/deconstruction of the Running of the Bulls, minus the animal cruelty.]
The 4th San Fermin in Nueva Orleans was this past weekend, a festival that began on Friday evening with tapas and centered on the 8am Saturday Running of the Bulls. The "bulls" were actually the Roller Girls of New Orleans joined by Roller Girls from other cities, accompanied by a mechanical bull, a squadron of Elvis impersonators on scooters, and hundreds of runners clad in white with touches of red. The Roller Girls attach horns to their helmets, dress in red and black and arm themselves with foam or plastic bats. The object of the game is to run with the "bulls" and to avoid getting swatted (or to get swatted, your choice).
This stampede is actually fairly organized and contained on designated streets in the Quarter. The rolling Elvis squad signaled the end of the run when it's time for a drink, music and dancing in the street until brunch and a siesta beckon before the evening's festivities. This year, the weekend was singularly graced by a world cup win for Spain. We owe the lovely French Quarter wrought iron work balconies to Spain as well as the inspiration for this relatively new festival.
I haven't heard much opinion from others in the city about this event and I am not sure what it is going to wind up being. It seems to be catching on, if numbers are anything to go by, although it will not be monumental like Mardi Gras or Jazz Fest nor as focused as Southern Decadence and Essence. Maybe it's more like St. Joseph's Day celebrated by the Italian American community with altars and hospitality but also sets Super Sunday, a night the Mardi Gras Indians parade in their costumes, two completely different but complementary celebrations of the feast day.
We've made a good start on San Fermin and the festival in Pamplona does present an excellent model to mine for an extended celebration. I would not be surprised to see Gigantes soon -- we already have a huge San Fermin figure to carry through the streets as well as a Hemingway competition. We're getting there with the costumes and red scarves, the music and at least one new tapas restaurant added to those already in the city. We are very good at celebrating saints brought to our shores from elsewhere. We're like the Roman Empire in that regard; if there's a celebration attached, we will adopt that Saint with open arms and create a new event. There's also a hint of feminism in our celebration because of the Roller Girls, who are so gloriously subversive, though I am not sure how that works with the Hemingway thing. Perhaps that's what the foam bats are for.
Things I really like about it: the Roller Girls, out and proud of being women at any size, doing something they love, being teammates, playing a difficult sport, dressing however they want, being assertive, even aggressive, having fun. I love the mix of people-- locals, tourists, gays, straights, young, not so young, every size and shape with the only entry requirement a sense of fun.
I love the way New Orleans comes together and stages a big, completely ridiculous party in the middle of the most devastating thing that has happened to us in at least five years, a thing which may turn out to be even worse than Katrina. The reasoning is that either you curl up and die, you completely lose it and start rampaging or you have a festival.
I love the way everyone in New Orleans can put together a costume at the drop of a hat. Oh, to have grown up free enough to costume in any fantasy way one's heart desires. I, like many people, doubtless had any natural ability to costume completely squelched before first grade. Not in New Orleans. Costuming is considered a necessary social skill, like knowing good food and where to find it.
On the other hand, this festival would not appeal to everyone. I saw few people of color in the videos I looked at. I saw only a couple of people who were in wheelchairs. Still, anyone who wanted to could be there. I, myself, don't like being in crowds and would try to find just the right balcony to watch from.
There are any number of reasons a person might not think it at all festive to be chased and struck with even a foam bat by be-horned, rollerskating women in red costumes with torn black fishnet stockings. Some people might object to going to the Quarter on a July Saturday for any reason. Some would have it that running with a pack and getting hit with a bat for fun is just not all that compelling so early in the morning. Some might say this is homage to bullfighting and is therefore objectionable. Others might reply: not at all, it has all the fun and none of the brutality; it's not homage but satire, a protest festival in the tradition of the Zulu parade.
When it is this brutally hot and you can't even go fishing any more, this makes a certain kind of sense.
P.S. A report on Las fiestas de Sanfermin en Nueva Orleans appears on the Pamplona festival site.
I Don't Get Tough With Adults. My Lawyer Does.
(TW for Polanski, and for the usual coy refusal by news media to acknowledge the existence of rape in favor of referring to "sex" which might conceivably be of the not very nice kind, but who's to say, certainly not us)
From msn.com:
Roman Polanski's lawyers have issued a statement calling for an investigation into the U.S. refusal to provide requested evidence to Swiss authorities in his 33-year-old sex case.The evidence the Swiss government had been refused was sealed testimony given earlier this year by a former prosecutor, to be used in a future hearing in case the elderly man was not then available.
The one-page statement released Tuesday in Los Angeles made no personal reference to Polanski or his reaction to Monday's ruling freeing him from Swiss custody.
It was the first defense comment since the Swiss refused to extradite Polanski to the U.S.
The attorneys asked for the appointment of a commission by the California governor or attorney general to look into possible official misconduct in the 1977 case
They said the Los Angeles County district attorney purposely withheld the material sought because it would have undermined the extradition request. They refused further comment.
Current L.A. District Attorney Steve Cooley says that not being given that testimony was used by the Swiss as an excuse to free Polanski. Said Cooley:
The Swiss could not have found a smaller hook on which to hang their hat.So, in this latest volley issued by Polanski's attorneys, calling for the impoverished state of California to appoint a special commission to investigate the refusal by its court system to allow its functions to be taken over by the Swiss government, do we smell a potential lawsuit on behalf of the poor, victimized Polanski, or merely a self-satisfied rubbing of the noses of those attempting to bring him to justice in their failure to do so?
Question of the Day
We've done this one before, but not for almost two years now...
Which frequently misused word or phrase is like nails on a chalkboard every time you hear it being misused?
This isn't a question about mispronunciations or malapropisms or incorrect grammar. It's about a real word or phrase that just gets used in the wrong way, e.g. the use of literally to convey totality or emphasis, as opposed to the opposite of figuratively.
The one that always makes my teeth grind is when someone uses "begs the question" to mean "raises the question," instead of its actual meaning, which describes the logical fallacy of circular reasoning—the sort of argument that looks like a snake eating its own tail.
"You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."
Most Unfortunate Homonymous Name Ever?
[Image Description: Screen-cap of Thomas Kruse, inventor of the Hoveround Electric Wheelchair.]
The OFFS Awards: Whoopi Goldberg
[Trigger warning for violence and victim-blaming.]
Not content to merely defend Mel Gibson because, hey, they're friends—and who needs principles when you've got big-time pals like Melly-boy?—today Goldberg used the platform afforded her by The View to go on the attack against Gibson's victim and former partner Oksana Grigorieva, detailing her angry suspicions about why Grigorieva released the tapes instead of going to the police.
Which, it should be noted, is not even accurate. Grigorieva was issued a restraining order against Gibson on June 21, more than a week before the first of the recordings was made public. But, even if Goldberg were right, and the release of the tapes predated the restraining order, it wouldn't be the first time a survivor of violence and harassment, especially in cases where the perpetrator is a powerful and/or famous man, had to go public with evidence in order to shame the cops into taking the accusations seriously.
[Transcript below.]
There's a lot to parse here in terms of the many shapes Goldberg's victim-blaming actually takes, which I'll leave you to do in comments.
I'll just quickly note two things: 1. When Elizabeth Hasselbeck is the voice of reason, you know you've really run off the rails. 2. There probably could not have been a more perfectly absurd guest panelist to bear witness to this trainwreck than Clay Aiken.
Whoopi Goldberg: You know what? Thank god none of us are going through it. [murmurs of agreement from the rest of the panel] Do you know what I mean? There but for the grace of god go we, and, you know, I've gotten a lot of— [Joy Behar says something] Sorry?
Behar: I wouldn't be in that position. I don't—I don't really identify with this at all.
Sherri Shepherd: But maybe not that one particular position, but—
Goldberg: Well, maybe not, but—maybe you wouldn't hit somebody and you wouldn't allow someone to hit you—
Behar: That's right.
Goldberg: You wouldn't tape somebody yelling at you on the phone. People tape stuff, I mean, it's going on and on and on—
Behar: No, I would do that. If I were in her position, I would have done the exact thing …
Elizabeth Hasslebeck: She's smart to do that. I think it empowers the woman.
[crosstalk; Shephard is siding with Goldberg and Hasselbeck with Behar]
Goldberg: But then why not just take it to the police and say, "This is what's happening"… Why is it, why is it at the top… [crosstalk] See, this is the thing that bothers me, and it bothers me whenever anybody does it: If there's a beef, take it to the cops! To the people who can take care of it. To release it and—
Behar: She got a restraining order.
[crosstalk; Shephard is still siding with Goldberg and Hasselbeck with Behar]
Shephard: Why do they have these tapes?
Goldberg: Well, that's my question!
Hasselbeck: It's also reported, too, and no one knows if this is true, that there was money offered to her to not say anything that was going on, so you have to understand, money is also power and can be used as a weapon, and if he indeed was using it to try to muffle her—right?
Goldberg: Listen, nobody knows that better than me! Nobody knows that better than me! But if somebody's kicking your behind, and punching you in the face while you're holding your kid, and you don't go to the cops FIRST, you go to f— Radar Online! [laughter as Goldberg covers her mouth because she almost let slip an f-bomb]
Clay Aiken: I'm a little scared of you right now!
Goldberg: We've gotta move on!
[crosstalk; Behar and Hasselbeck are not letting it drop]
Behar: —restraining order!
Hasselbeck: New tapes were just released this morning—
Behar: It's not that she didn't cover herself. She got a restraining order.
Goldberg: But WHEN did she get the restraining order? And how long have these tapes—
[crosstalk; Aiken looks like he wants to vomit all over the table]
Hasselbeck: Well, we'll all find out because it's all gonna be in the police report pretty soon.
Goldberg: Yeah, that's what I'm waiting for.
Quote of the Day
"We consider [birth control] an elective drug. Married women can practice periodic abstinence. Other women can abstain altogether. Not having sex doesn't make you sick."—Deirdre McQuade, assistant director for policy and communications at the Conference of Catholic Bishops' Secretariat of Pro-Life Activities.
Quoted in a piece by Dana Goldstein about "The Coming Birth Control Battle: Health-care reform raised the possibility that birth control could soon be free for most women. But not if conservative activists have their way."
Today's Edition of "Conniving and Sinister"
See Deeky's archive of all previous Conniving & Sinister strips here.
[In which Liss reimagines the long-running comic "Frank & Ernest," about two old straight white guys "telling it like it is," as a fat feminist white woman (Liss) and a biracial queerbait (Deeky) telling it like it actually is from their perspectives. Hilarity ensues.]
I Write Letters
Dear US Media:
You're the same US Media who wouldn't widely and regularly report on how unpopular George W. Bush was during his regrettable tenure as president until his unfavorables reached like 28%, right?
Just checking.
Love,
Liss
164 Days
With nearly six months to go until Christmas, why the hell am I walking into stores and seeing this?
[Image of a manger-load of Xmas baubles and lights and trees in a local retail establishment.]
What is this? A pre-emptive strike in the War on Christmas® 2011? Because July 13th is too damn early for Christmas decorations. Isn't there some sort of rule that you put out the Christmas stuff after the Thanksgiving stuff after the Halloween stuff? If not, there certainly should be.
[Cross-posted.]
Number of the Day
1.5 The estimated percentage of the Free/Libre/Open Source Software (FLOSS) community that is female, as seen at Ubuntu Women.
Swell
Beyond Guns: N.R.A. Expands Agenda:
Fresh off a string of victories in the courts and Congress, the National Rifle Association is flexing political muscle outside its normal domain, with both Democrats and Republicans courting its favor and avoiding its wrath on issues that sometimes seem to have little to do with guns.Superb. If there's one thing I've always said about the NRA, it's: I wish they could branch out into other areas!
The N.R.A., long a powerful lobby on gun rights issues, has in recent months also weighed in on such varied issues as health care, campaign finance, credit card regulations and Supreme Court nominees.
In the health care debate this year, for instance, the N.R.A.'s lobbyists worked with the Senate majority leader, Harry Reid, to include a little-noticed provision banning insurance companies from charging higher premiums for people with guns in their homes.
The N.R.A. worked out a deal last month exempting itself from a proposal requiring groups active in political spending to disclose their financial donors. Its push this spring for greater gun rights in the District of Columbia served to effectively kill a measure — once seemingly assured of passage — to give the district a voting seat in Congress.
With a push from the N.R.A., a popular bill last year restricting credit card lenders came with an odd add-on: It also allowed people to carry loaded guns in national parks. And the gun lobby put potential supporters of the Supreme Court nominee Elena Kagan on notice this month that a vote for her would be remembered at the ballot boxes in November.
The N.R.A.'s expanding portfolio is an outgrowth of its success in the courts, Congressional officials and political analysts said. With the Supreme Court ruling last month for the second time since 2008 that the Second Amendment guarantees an individual the right to have a gun, the N.R.A. now finds that its defining battle is a matter of settled law, and it has the resources to expand into other areas.
If It's Tuesday, It's Boxcar Willie!
Classic Boxcar Willie commercial, circa 1988.
Two LPs or two cassettes just $12.98!
Update: Iroquois Nationals lacrosse
[Update 4:35 Central Time/ 21:35 GMT, Tuesday 13 July Here's a fresh report from the AP. It looks as those there's still hope that the team will make in to Manchester in time. IMO, DHS's spokesperson is still looking embarrassingly hostile.]
It now appears that the Haudenosaunee lacrosse team will miss its flight to the 2010 World Lacrosse Championships in England.
In short, the United States has indicated that it will not allow team members to re-enter the United States without US passports. Several team members are hoping to travel with Haudenosaunee passports, as they have in the past.
I'm not aware of anyone asking the Haudenosaunee to produce any identification when entering the United States from tribal lands. I don't know of anyone asked to produce identification upon entering Haudenosaunee land. I happen to travel through the Onondaga and Seneca nations on a semi-regular basis, using highways the State of New York constructed for my convenience, and I sure don't remember any checkpoints.
One hopes that the Justice Department will eventually get this one right, but given that they've had over 200 years, I'm not placing any bets. Of course, eventually won't get this lacrosse team to England by Thursday.
I'm also curious as to who is making the decision to deny re-entry. Homeland Security? (Their name seems to come up a lot.) The DoJ? Given that this issue involves the autonomy of members of sovereign nations, one would think that the Secretary of State or the President could (and would) step in and tell their employees to do their jobs and honor our nation's commitments. The longer this doesn't happen, the more I worry about (another) intentional effort to undermine tribal sovereignty.
Rights cease to become rights when you're only afforded them at someone else's convenience.
ETA: Here's the transcript of a press briefing with Philip Crowley, assistant secretary of the U.S. Department of Homeland Security.
Two comments: 1) WOWOMGWTF?!? 2) It appears that the US' stated reason for denying re-entry involves REAL ID/the Western Hemisphere Travel Initiative.
My Great Review of Twilight: Eclipse
How's it going, you collection of tree-hugging limousine liberals, pinko Commies, dope fiends, queerbaits, ladyboys, fat chicks, feminazi castrators, and assorted freaks?
So, my niece Sierra's birthday was last weekend, and all she wanted was her old Uncle Butch to take her to the movies to see that new Twilight film. Now, you know I would have just preferred to buy her a damn Barbie doll or whatever 14-year-old girls like, but she wanted to go to the movies. It worked out okay, since my friend Dick Balzac just traded me some gift certificates to the cineplex for some weed.
Anyways, so I picked her up on Saturday afternoon and we head over there. First up, we hit the snack bar, because Sierra wanted some Jar Jar Beez, and I just had to get me a hot dog, 'cuz you know how much I love wrapping my lips around a footlong. It wasn't too long before I was pissed off, though, because some dumbass kid bumped into me and spilled his diet Mt. Dew all down my Jordaches. Hey, this shit is vintage! Then the Matre D wanted to see our tickets. How the hell am I supposed to balance a tub of popcorn, two drinks, my 'dog, and nachos and whip out my fucking tickets? Shit like this is why I don't go to the movies anymore.
We get inside the theater and it's a total clambake in there. The only free seats we could find were in the front row, which made the movie like IMAX but without any dolphins or Keanu Reeves. The trailers start and some of them look good enough that I'm almost starting to rethink my hatred of theaters. Sorcerer's Apprentice with American legend Nicolas Cage looks totally kick-ass. And I frankly can't wait to see Piranha 3-D. I have a soft spot—hard to believe, I know (Butch ain't all muscle, ladies)—for piranha; I used to raise them back in the 80s. There was also some trailer for a Will Ferrell/Marky Mark action epic. Also, that dude who made all them Batman movies made some shit about bending buildings. I don't know what the fuck that is supposed to be about. There was also something about a German Shepherd with a jetpack. Probably sucks.
But anyway, the movie finally starts and most everyone shuts up and I can finally eat my nachos in peace.
Now, I hadn't seen the first two movies, and I sure as shit ain't read the books, so I had no goddamn idea what was going on. Best I can tell, Rod Stewart plays a teenage girl who's caught in a love triangle with a dog and a 600-year-old corpse. And the dog is all getting up in her grill when she doesn't want him to, which is bad enough, but the corpse is all, "Let's get married even though you're like twelve, and I'll turn you into an immortal and shit."
Now, listen, my ex-wife/fiancée Tammy will be the first one to tell you that I don't know shit about romantical stuff, but one thing I do know is that becoming a corpse because you want to spend the rest of all heckified eternity with some other bozo is a stupid fucking idea. The only thing even stupider is picking that person when you're a teenager and your hormones are racing around like Dale Earnhardt, Jr. on methamphetamines. If I'd settled down all eternal-like with my high school sweetheart, I'd be with a woman who, if Classmates.com can be trusted, now works for the son-of-a-bitchin' DEA. No thank you!
I mean, don't get me wrong—I dig her mullet and all, but if I'd got all corpsed-up for her in freaking high school, I never would have met my soul mate Tammy.
The point is this: You do lots of embarrassing crap when you're a kid. You wouldn't believe the stuff I did when I was young and stupid.
And I'm pretty sure that still ain't as regrettable as permanently hitching yourself to a 600-year-old glittery corpse who's probably a huge fag.
Anyways, also in this movie Rod Stewart has a bunch of goth angst about whether she should do it with Corpse Boy. It's so stupid and fake—and I'm not even talking about the sparkly gay vampires. I'm talking about the fact that every red-blooded American broham knows it ain't the goth girls who equivocate (word-a-day calendar! HIGH FIVE!) about doing it. They either do it or they don't, man. It's the weirdo Christian chicks with their high-falutin' ideas about purity and premarital sex being the work of the goddamn devil who whine all the time about whether they should do it. This movie got it all wrong.
The factual inaccuracies were making me real agitated, so I decided to go out to the lobby for a smoke. And wouldn't you know it!—those liberal fascists on the city fuckin' council have banned smoking in theaters or some shit. DAMN that secondhand smoke hoax really burns me up. So this kid comes up to me and tells me to put my shit out. Oh just because you have a uniform and name tag on, Cody, doesn't make you better than me. Like I haven't seen you doing doughnuts in the Aldi's parking lot like 200 times.
Anyways, I put my cigarette out because I don't want to go to jail because I was with Sierra and I didn't want to ruin her birthday and shit. Punk don't know how lucky he got. I still gave him the Eye of the Tiger, just for good measure.
You know, if I was on the city council, crap like this wouldn't happen.
Anyways, I go back into the theater and they hassle me again about my ticket. Dude, I was just here! You know that guy remembers me from before. Hope you enjoyed your little power trip, loser! Don't forget your BAGGAGE!
So, also in this movie, that dog keeps mooning over Rod Stewart, and she's all, "I don't love you. Wait, now I love you. But I love Corpse Boy more. Kiss me. Don't kiss me! I love you, but I'm dumping you." I need a neckbrace to deal with this chick and the dog's relationship, because bitches are giving me whiplash!
And, honestly, I don't know if you femifarts are rubbing off on me (that's what she said!) or what, but all's I could think was that it was kinda fucked up my teenage niece was watching a movie that sort of made it look like all of this fucked-up relationship stuff was, like, cool and kinda sexy. It made me uncomfortable.
I'm gonna have to talk to my brother Buck about letting Sierra see shit like this. I really think she should be watching good, old-fashioned teen fare like Porky's.
After the show, I decided to take Sierra to McDonald's for a birthday dinner. Kids like that crap, right? Anyways, we get there and I can't find my wallet, so I have to go back to the theater. Good news is I find my wallet. Bad news is I spilled nacho fucking cheese all over it. Are you fucking kidding me?
Just FYI, nacho cheese will stain alligator leather.
Pornstache: Out.
[Previously by Butch Pornstache: Happy Taxes and Teabags Day, I'm a Proud Teabagger and Real American, Men and Trucks and Shit, Cats and Shit, Books and Cupcakes and Shit, Ron Swanson Kicks Butt, Dale Peterson is a Great American, I'm a Man and I Enjoy Mancations. Pamela Gorman is a Great American, Fireworks and Shit.]
Doctor Who Open Thread: S5E11: The Lodger
Alright you Whosiers (even the ones what ain't from Indiana), time for the yakfest on the latest episode.
Please note that this is episode 11 of the fifth season of reboot ("The Lodger"), and avoid spoilers for episodes later in the season. Any and all Doctor Who media before that episode are open for discussion.
An interesting episode, we don't often get one that focuses on the Doctor alone when there's a Companion around. More in comments, to avoid big spoilers in the post.
