What do you mean did I hear about Jen and Brad--Nooooooooooooo!

Before I begin, it now seems customary to give a little preface. And by the way, it’s pronounced “pref-ess,” not “pre-face.”

I thought I’d start with explaining my views on the media. And by the media, I mean just about everything: magazines, movies, television, newspapers…you know, what we occupy our time with. Basically, I hate them all. I can’t stand 99% of it and I avoid most of them as much as possible. Let’s go through them categorically:

Magazines
Oddly enough, this medium seems to be the most difficult to avoid. Think about it: what do you do when you’re in line at the grocery store (this, of course, assumes you don’t shoplift your Cadbury Cream Eggs)? You look at those god damn magazines, which are always the same.

Cosmopolitan: SEX! SEX!!!!!!!!!!!!! SEX! How to please your man in ways he loves but will never admit! (we really mean it this time!!) Oh and how to turn your fat ass into a superhuman machine of efficiency (Lovehandles too!)

People: More specifically, people whose lives you care more about than your own

Maxim: Look inside for more ways to think exactly how women expect you to

Us Weekly, The Star, Entertainment Weekly, etc.: See People

I feel I need to elaborate a bit on this last group, which adds absolutely nothing to humanity. I really don’t care about Hollywood, and when I say that, I mean I choose to stay uninformed in the goings on of celebrities lives. However, this is impossible, because I knew about Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt’s breakup at most two hours after they did. I couldn’t escape it, and you still can’t, as the current issue of Us Weekly makes damn sure:

Isn’t it telling about out country that the checkout is lined with similar depictions, instead of, you know, things that actually matter. And don’t you love the ‘story’ on the cover. You have one half of what used to be Bradifer standing there, in her favorite shirt from third grade, looking completely shocked and embarrassed, when in actuality she was probably just staring at my ass. It’s the same tactic employed by E’s True Hollywood Stories. As soon as they get to the point where the subject started doing drugs again, or whatever their tragic turn is, they show a photo, usually black white, that shows them looking like shit. But the truth of it is, it’s just like one of those pictures someone snaps at you at a party without your knowing, and your expression happens to be reacting to someone vomitting on your wall. Anyway, on the other side, we have Mrs. Jolie, who apparently thinks it’s always a good time to look seductive. It’s almost like they’re looking at each other, and Angelina Awesometits is saying Yeah I did it, what is your perky-yet-admirable-tits going to do about it?

I hate the magazines for it, but I guess I can’t blame them, because it draws people in. Something about attractive celebrities relationships have taken priority over most other events. But even that isn’t right. Being a hot celebrity in a relationship with another hot celebrity will draw eyes, but when things start going in the shitter, that really turns heads. Because, Christ, if Brad and Jen can’t make it, what the hell hope do we have?! We’re uglier and more boring versions of them, not the cute waitress from Office Space and the guy with dick lines from Fight Club!

What it all boils down to is this: I can’t believe Brad Pitt gets to go from banging Jennifer “Nipples” Aniston to bagging Angelina “Rent Gia just for the part where she walks up to an elevator nude” Jolie. I don’t think his bed record would be so impressive if you slipped an “e” in the middle of his name and he became Bread Pitt.

Film
Anyone who knows me knows I love movies…probably too much. Just today I decided to type up the list of ones I plan on seeing before I die. I mentioned that I typed it up, because my hand-written one was getting full, and I’m serious. You know what doesn’t happen to me? This:

Random non-descript female I’m currently bagging: What movie do you want to watch?
Me: I don’t know, RN-DFICB, I don’t know.

It doesn’t happen because I have A LIST, from which I can choose such titles as “Cool Hand Luke” and “The Last Picture Show” and avoid others like “Kangaroo Jack” and “Bad Boys II” and whatever other fecal matter Jerry Bruckheimer manages to squeeze out of his butt.

Since I’ve become a connoisseur (which is spelled more French-y than I ever imagined) of movies, I consciously try and avoid most big-budget blockbuster films, for the simple reason that most of them are painful to watch, much like local television news (ooh, getting ahead of myself). When you take out the explosions, mandatory car-chase scenes, the computer research part late at night, and the shootouts, you realize they’re devoid of plot and composed entirely of filler. The characters are cardboard (which, I think, means stereotypical and/or flat, 2-dimensional, insert other critic buzzword) and there usually isn’t much of a story, or one that requires any intellectual thought.

Now, we all have those lazy days where the entire day’s plan is to lay down, eat food and watch movies that don’t require much thinking. But does every day have to be a lazy day for the American moviegoer? We produce a lot of the entertainment of the world, and this is what we have to show for it, as pulled from IMDB’s top 10 grossing movies of the past four years:

2001
#10 Planet of the Apes (Jesus Christ himself wept at this)
#9 Jurassic Park III (Why more than one? Stay off the fucking island!)
#7 Pearl Harbor (I’m trusting Trey Parker and Matt Stone on this)
#6 The Mummy Returns (To be followed by The Mummy Still Isn't Gone)
#5 Rush Hour 2 (Interracial comedies are fun!)

2002
#8 Men in Black II (When was Will Smith ever really appealing, other than for a short time in the early 90s?)
#3 Star Wars: Episode II (I really can’t even get started on this)

2003
#10 Cheaper by the Dozen (Seriously, Ice Cube, Steve Martin and Eddie Murphy need to kick this shitty kids movie habit and get their foul-mouthed souls back)
#9 The Matrix Revolutions (I loved watching a whole movie about keeping Trinity alive only to see her randomly killed in a car crash in this one)
#8 Terminator 3 (When the illustrator, main writer and director decides the story is done after the second one, listen to him)
#5 Bruce Almighty (not even Jim Carrey could carry this hokey comedy)
#4 The Matrix Reloaded (see #9; and never show me Keanu’s bare ass ever again, even if it performs better on screen than his face)

2004
#10 Shark Tale (I just love that the current comment on IMDB describes it as “ 'Shrek' leftovers and sloppy seconds to 'Finding Nemo".”)
#9 National Treasure (For when you just can’t wait for The Da Vinci Code)
#8 The Day After Tomorrow (Special effects does not a movie save)

2005 (albeit these won’t last long, but it looks off to a good start!)
#4 Elektra (What’s next? Ephram The Retarded Rabbit?)
#3 Racing Stripes (Honestly, after seeing the trailer, I got a vasectomy, so that I would never have any ratty little bastards dragging me to see this awful piece of shit)

Well, it seems once again, I didn’t even get through my preface, let alone the actual topic I had in mind. That, oddly enough, was supposed to be making fun of President Bush in his latest press conference. As proof, here was one piece I selected ahead of time:

“THE PRESIDENT: And here's the problem: the -- as dictated by just math, there is -- the system will be in the red in 13 years, and in 2042 the system will be broke. That's because people are living longer, and the number of people paying into the Social Security trust is dwindling. And so, therefore, if you have a child -- how old is your child, Carl?

Q Fourteen years old.

THE PRESIDENT: Yes, 14. Well, if she were --

Q He, sir.

THE PRESIDENT: He, excuse me. (Laughter.) I should have done the background check. (Laughter.) She will -- when she gets ready to -- when she's 50…”

Get 'er done

While driving in Ypsi yesteday, I came up behind a car, the brand of which I do not remember. But for all intents and purposes, let’s say it was an H2, since there seem to be more and more of these cinder blocks on wheels around.

Before addressing my main concern, allow me to rant a bit on these vestiges of war. The average fuel efficiency of these tanks is 10 miles per gallon. I’m inclined to think most underdeveloped countries could develop something better using only tree bark and mosquitoes. My new car gets 26 miles per gallon, and it would be higher if they had had the one I wanted in stock. Since the Mazda3 is apparently a popular car (thus must hang out together in a secret society, cause I sure as hell haven’t seen them), I had to steal the first car with keys in the ignition, which happened to be a Yugo. Now, those unfamiliar with the luxury of a Yugo are in for a treat:



Introduced in the summer of 1986 at a price of $3990, The Yugo was a unique automobile that really defies description, but I’ll try. As the picture on the left indicates, the Yugo is similar to a Chevy Nova, but shittier. The image on the right suggests the woman sitting on the hood is freakishly huge, but in reality the Yugo was an extremely tiny car. The girl was part of the most successful marketing campaign ever, in which every Yugo came with one hot chick. The only drawback was that she had to remain on the hood, which became the premise for many profitable adult movies.

My Dad, whose name is Wendall, had one in his late thirties (he can’t ever seem to pass up the free woman deals) and all I can remember is that, in some strange way, the car smelled like the Yugoslav, despite the obvious fact that I’ve never been. But who has, honestly? You never see your neighbors pack up the kids, and wave goodbye to you, saying “See you next week Charlie, we’re going to the ‘Slav!” Among the Yugo’s characteristics were a window crank that busted completely off (as well as my Dad’s brother’s Yugo) and the violent shaking that would commense when behind a semi-truck that made you scared for your life.

So before a vein of digression explodes in my head, allow me to get back to Hummer’s. When a company’s motto is “It’s not more than you need, just more than you’re used to” you know they don’t give a shit. They know it’s more than anyone needs, save Kyle Reese. And we know that too. We, for reasons I’ll never figure out, just don’t care. We want the biggest fucking thing on the road that will absolutely destroy smaller cars, like our good friend the Yugo. Not that I want anyone to get hurt, but I’d like to see a head on collision with an H2 and say, a Miata. Maybe then, when the driver (who is undoubtedly either a redneck or a soccer mom) steps 3 feet down from their unscathed Hummer and sees that the other car and driver is completely under theirs, will they realize “Hey, I probably shouldn’t be spending 50 grand on a car that might as well be spraying CFC-injected canisters directly into the ozone.” I’m not holding my breath though.

So anyway, like I said a long time ago, there was a main concern that has inadvertently been misplaced. I came upon this H2 which seriously looked like this:



with the intricate art being those “Support our troops” stickers everyone has seen. Now, I’m all for supporting the soldiers that are doing the duties I sure as hell don’t want to be doing, I just don’t support the cause, but that’s a whole different digression that time and space won’t allow for.

The problem I have with this picture (which was Photoshopped, but I’m sure you’ve seen similar situations) is this inane sense of patriotism that people feel the need to prove ever since 9/11. And there’s nothing wrong with that, but you can’t prove it with stickers. I saw a guy about a week ago that had 6 flags flailing all about—one on each corner and then two on the roof where it meets the windshield. This was commonplace in the weeks following 9/11, but can’t we see how ridiculous it is now, especially on the tops of cars that everyone hates us for? Drive to Canada, and see how many SUVs you see…it’s amazing.

How about this, instead of adding that 14th sticker to prove you’re more supportive of the troops than anyone else, how about you do something that actually helps them? You know, like voting for someone who would have at least tried to get them out soon, rather than the guy who extends tours involuntarily and calls up the reserves because, no matter what, we gotta get ‘er done.

Alright, the next post will be a little lighter.