[Trigger warning for violence and wrongful imprisonment.]
Photos, actually—of the West Memphis Three (Jessie Misskelley, Damien Echols, and Jason Baldwin) in 1993, when they were tried and convicted, under unjust circumstances, of the murder of three 8-year-old boys, and now.
The three men were released today after a specialized plea that acknowledged the evidence against them while maintaining their innocence. They were released with time served and a 10-year suspended sentence.
In one corner: Nicolas Cage in Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance, the sequel to Ghost Rider: Spirit of Garbage (I can't remember if that's the correct subtitle, but I'm sure it's close enough), a very terrible movie also starring Nicolas Cage in the titular role. I'm sure the sequel will be very good, though, because it has two directors, which I know because they are in the trailer. Sure.
Here are the two directors, who are, in keeping with Hollywood tradition, white dudes. They are named Brian and Mark, which, coincidentally, are the names I would have made up for them if they hadn't introduced themselves. They hope we have a hell of a time watching the trailer. Okay. Thanks, directbros! (Spoiler Alert: I do not have a hell of a time watching the trailer.)
Text onscreen, with fiery junk in the background, while Nic Cage says, in a real Nic Cagey kind of way, some shit about how terrible it is to have the curse of being a fire-head: "He fought the curse / Evil will force him / to face his demon." Yeah, yeah. Being Ghost Rider is soooo terrible. Actually, it is terrible, but not for the reason that anyone who has ever had anything to do with the Ghost Rider franchise thinks it is. Being Ghost Rider is terrible because Ghost Rider is stupid.
The entire rest of the trailer is a montage of scenes of Ghost Rider doing Ghost Rider things, i.e. running around with a flaming head, riding a flaming motorcycle, hitting dudes with a chain, yelling in dudes' faces, getting shot at by dudes, and telling a lady she should be scared of him. Also: He pees fire. The End.
In the other corner: Nicolas Cage in Trespass, a movie about how hard it is to be rich and white because nefarious people want to take all your stuff and murder you. Also: Women are traitorous bitchez. OR ARE THEY?!
The trailer starts with a yawn-inducing montage that is almost certainly a fair representation of the yawn-inducing first act of the film establishing that Nic Cage and Nic Kidman are rich and successful and appear to be happily married in a big beautiful mansion with a typical teenage daughter and a high-tech wall safe.
Whooooooooooops their domestic bliss is suddenly interrupted by masked commandos barging in through their front door, after walking undetected across their extensive grounds, which is totally believable because if there's one thing I know about rich people with high-tech wall safes, it's that they do not have any kind of security on their lavish estates.
We are informed that Trespass is "from the director of Phone Booth and Falling Down, so good for him for finding a way to turn the absurd hate-fueled paranoia of wealthy white men into a successful film career. Oh, wait—that's Joel Schumacher. Ha ha, pardon me, I should have been more precise. Good for him for ALL THE GARBAGE SO MUCH GARBAGE GOOD FUCKING GOD THE GARBAGE!!!
Montagery. They have been following Nic Cage and thus believe he has something very valuable in his high-tech wall safe, unlike most people who keep the recycling in their high-tech wall safes. Nic Kidman begs Nic Cage to open the safe, but he says not opening it is the only thing keeping them alive. One of the commandos tells Nic Cage that he's gonna put his thumb on the print-recognition square on the high-tech wall safe sooner or later, and the only question is whether it will still be attached to his body. Nic Cage tries to look like a terrified businessman who is so out of his league—but, really, I have seen this man eat a live cockroach and fight Sean Connery and wear a snakeskin jacket that represents a symbol of his individuality and his belief in personal freedom, so I'm just not buying the whole terrified businessman routine. SORRY, NIC!
More montagery. Nic Kidman was maybe fucking the pool boy? Who is the younger brother of one of the commandos? And that's why they picked them? Even though two seconds ago it was because they saw Nic Cage sign for a shitload of diamonds? Huh? TWISTS and TURNS and FARTS!
But what the commandos don't know is that Nic Cage and Nic Kidman are gonna FIGHT BACK. Surprise, dirtbags! Running, jumping, knife, car, fire, fighting, running, knife, car, gun. This is an action film, no doy. The End.
Have I ever mentioned three thousand times that Dudley is very lazy? Dudley is very lazy.
[Dudley lies on the loveseat looking sleepy; I'm standing at the front door, pointing the camera at him.] Dudley, you wanna go out for a walk? Let's go for a walk. Dudley! [I dangle the leash temptingly.] Come on, Dudz. *kissy noises* [Pause; Dudley doesn't budge.] Dudley, are you the laziest dog? Come on, lazybones. [I swivel the camera down, where Zelda is running around my feet in circles, excitedly wagging her tail.] Do you want to go for a walk? [Zelda sits and looks up at me, wagging her tail.] You do?! You wanna go out for a walk? Yes, what a good girl! [I swivel the camera back to Dudley, still lying in the same position.] Dudley, come on, we're waiting for you. [Pause; Dudley doesn't budge.] Dudz, c'mere! *kissy noises* Come on, Dudz! *snapping and whistling* "Let's go! *tongue clicking* [I swivel the camera down to see Olivia now also standing by the front door.] Livsy wants to go for a walk! [I pan to Zelda, now running around with waggy tail again.] Zelda sure wants to go for a walk. [Back to Dudley.] Come on, Dudz. Come on, Dudz! [I slap my knee with my hand.] Come on, good boy! [Back to Zelda, who sits and looks up at me eagerly.] Who's a good girl? Are you a good girl? Yes, you are. You're a good girl. [Back to Dudley.] Dudley!
All right, come on, Dudz! *snapping* Come on! *kissy noises* Oh my goodness. *sigh* [I walk around the back of the couch into the living room toward Dudley.] Come here, lazy boy. [I pet his head and scratch his chin.] Who's a good boy? Who's such a good boy? [Dudley enjoys the scratches, then lays his head back down.] You ready to go? [Zelda runs up, wagging her tail.] Tell him! Tell him, Zelda. [She jumps up on the couch next to Dudley and looks out the window.] See?! She's ready to go out! Come on, Dudz! Come on, Dudley! Let's go, Dudley! [Dudley yawns.] Dudley. [Extreme close-up; he sniffs at the camera; I whisper at him.] Let's go outside. Let's go for a walk. [Dudley yawns.]
[Zelda comes back over.] Tell him. Tell him, Zelda! Tell him it's time! [She sits, wags her tail, looks at Dudley.] It's time for a walk! It's time for a walk! [Pause; Dudley doesn't budge.] Come on, Dudz. *kissy noises* [I walk back to the front door.] Dudley, let's go. Let's go, Dudley. We're going out. [I open the door.] Come on, Dudley, we're gonna go without you. Come on! Come on, Dudz! *snapping* Come on, Dudley! [Dudley looks at me from the couch, yawns, and looks away.]
We did eventually get out for a walk.
"This smells so gross!" "I know—it's awesome!"
And then they came back in and had a snarling row over a dog biscuit, because Zelda was being greedy—and Dudley is as slow to eat his biccies as he is to get off his ass for a walk, lol.
The guy who invented Paypal has a dream. That dream: build an island in international waters and make it a Libertarian Paradise. Super! I say go for it.
Peter Thiel, the Paypal guy, believes that freedom and democracy are no longer compatible (really, he said that once), so the next step is to create a whole new country. In the sea. A country with "no welfare, looser building codes, no minimum wage, and few restrictions on weapons."
Yeah, okay. A floating city. In the middle of the ocean. Made under the aegis of "looser building codes." Excellent idea. Nothing can go wrong there, can it?
I'm not sure exactly how any of this is supposed to work. A country made up of greedy people with guns and ... ? Oof. Really, whut? Let's think it through, maybe we'll figure it out together: you build an island, okay, so far so good. Libertarians move there. Perfect! Then what? Commerce? (Free trade, no doy.) I guess they could exploit their natural resources (saltwater, seagull farts). Business!
Well, whatever, I am sure they've a solid plan! Go, libertarians! No, really, go. Please, move to your private island. Part Waterworld, part Bioshock, part Thunderdome. Sign me up: I love leather chaps!
Thiel's long-term plan (really) is to get to a space station of some sort. Off world! (Beware the replicants, buddy!) Hey, like Sun Ra said "Space is the place to achieve determinance of the ideal Randian state of objectivist moral worth." He said that, right? It was a b-side.
Anyway, this is gonna happen. Libertarians get shit done (famous bumper sticker) and this is no exception.
"We're concerned many species won't be able to move quickly enough."—Shaye Wolf, climate science director at the Center for Biological Diversity, quoted in a heartbreaking and terrifying article in the Washington Post about plants and animals migrating "to higher altitudes and latitudes as temperatures climb" as a result of global warming.
I have seen new birds and insects the past couple of years, and I've started to notice some familiar species of plants and animals doing things at a different time of year. These changes to ecosystems are happening fast enough that they're easily observable. That is not good news.
Many of the "tips" offered in their latest list are decent general safety tips for human people, e.g. keeping a charged mobile phone with you when you're out and about is a good idea in case you twist your ankle and need to ring for help. But that does not make them "rape prevention tips."
To identify them as rape prevention tips is to imply that there are certain rules women must (and can) follow in order to avoid being raped, and, if they fail to do so, then they share some of the blame for their own victimization. It's preemptive victim-blaming.
The only people at whom rape prevention tips need to be directed are rapists.
As the presidential candidate from Texas walked into a local restaurant, Popovers on the Square, he was forced to shake hands with voters amid shouts of "Hands off Social Security and Medicare!" and "You're a threat to America" from the anti-Perry forces who gathered just a few feet away from him. It was the first organized protest of this kind since Perry arrived in the Granite State.
"Social Security's going to be there for those folks," Perry answered his inquisitors, making reference to the elderly.
"But you said Social Security is unconstitutional," Mitchell repeated.
"I don't think I -- I'm sorry, you must have," Perry said before stopping himself.
Instead of elaborating, Perry stuffed a generous piece of popover in his mouth. (Perry called them "pop ups.")
"I've got a big mouthful," Perry said and then ordering a glass of water. He later tripped over one of the women standing at his side pressing him on Social Security.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Perry said to her.
Good lord. I don't know if he's got a chance at the White House, but he's definitely got a good shot at President of Ugh.
The hat tip goes to Shaker norbizness, a resident of the Great State of Texas, to whom I replied, "I thought Mitch Daniels was the worst governor in the nation, but, after getting a week full of Perry, I may have to admit defeat."
"Not even close, as you can now surmise," came his wry reply.
Elsewhere on the internetz yesterday, I stumbled quite unfortunately upon yet another thread of gentleman—and, by my count, two Exceptional Women assuring them that they were right—complaining bitterly about the INJUSTICE!!!!!eleventy!!1! of feminist bitchez who "profile" men who are strangers to them and assume them to be potential rapists in certain situations, like the proverbial deserted parking garage.
There is a distinction to be made between "assuming a strange man to be a potential rapist," which implies a sort of malice, and "acknowledging the reality that many men are rapists and none of them wear HELLO MY NAME IS RAPIST stickers."
But setting aside discussions of nuance unappreciated by people determined to be aggrieved, the observation I wanted to make is this: If there are men who are annoyed by the fact that women to whom they are unknown may be needlessly cautious around them, and it makes them feel bad, perhaps instead of taking it up with the women who are working to dismantle the rape culture, they should direct their ire at the approximately 12% of men (pdf) who have, by their own admission, committed sexual assault or rape against at least one woman.
Rep. Michelle Bachmann (R-Emedialhistoryrequired) has let loose another doozy in her ongoing campaign for the Stupidest Republican nomination (recent polling shows Rick Santorum still in the lead):
What people recognize is that there's a fear that the United States is in an unstoppable decline. They see the rise of China, the rise of India, the rise of the Soviet Union and our loss militarily going forward.
At Think Progess, Maria dryly notes: "In December 1991, the Soviet Union disintegrated into 15 separate countries. It's hard to believe Bachmann that the American people live in continued terror of an 'evil empire' that no longer exists."
LOL! That is hard to believe.
Of course, Bachmann's base also believes that the planet is 6,000 years old and trickle-down economics works, so anything's possible.
Once when I was in college ('93), I went in asking for a layered bob and came out with a Janet from Three's Company mullet. It was ten years too late to be stylish, and ten years too early to be ironic.
I would love to provide you with photographic evidence, but I did not allow any pictures to be taken until it had all grown out. Eighteen years later, if I got a haircut that heinous, I'd be blogging it from every angle: "Check the fuck outta this garbage monstrosity! lol my hair clusterfucktastrophe!"
Dateline, Hollywood: Ridley Scott to direct new version of the sci-fi classic Blade Runner!
Last week Ridley Scott helmed (Hollywood talk) a prequel to Alien called Prometheus which may or may nor include a Frankenstein. Anyway, that will soon be in a theater and on a Blu-Ray™ and at a Redbox (standard admonishment here) near you. Double anyway, this has inspired him to return to the very profitable (it wasn't) Blade Runner franchise with a whole new movie-going experience. Perhaps in 3D.
It is unclear whether Scott will make a sequel or a prequel or maybe even a re-imagining. I love when something is imagined once and then re-imagined again. Good stuff. Very imaginative. Also unclear is if Harrison Ford will return (he won't) or whether they'll cast the Jonas Brothers in his place. The Jonas Brothers are big with the tweens and the SyFy (sci-fi) fans, so yay for synergy.
But, boo for murderous Replicants. Why so murderous, guys? (And girls! Replicants can be women, too!) Maybe you just need more positivity in your short, enslaved little lives. Here's an idea: start calling yourselves RepliCANs. "That's the spirit!" (Famous movie quote.)
Well, I am pretty sure Bradley Cooper will be in this, probably as Batty. And Reese Witherspoon will be Rachel. I also vote for Sean Young (now that she has been eliminated from Ice Skating with Some Stars) in a cameo as the old racist police captain. I'll leave other casting choices to you. Comments are go!
So, dystopiaphiles, what do you think? Good idea or bad? And who should do the theme song? If Brion James were still alive I'd just ask him. But he's not. So I am asking you. Discuss!
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