Teenage Film Synopses #2

So, like, this rich guy really liked his sleigh, and he called it Rosebud, but then he died. And then the movie is about him as a kid who, like, gets adopted by another rich guy, and he grows up and starts a newspaper with his friends. But he’s like a really good guy at first, but he and his wife don’t like each other anymore and they get divorced. But he still gets richer and runs for something, like mayor, I think. Then he gets caught totally banging this hot blonde chick, and he tries to cover up the fact that he’s banging her by making her sing shit. Then he buys a lot of statues, but she’s all like whining, “You never get me any presents that I want, man.” So, she leaves him and he keeps buying crap until he dies after smashing this snow globe everywhere. And then for some reason someone burns his fucking Rosebud sled.

Teenage Film Synopses #1

Inspired by a comment from Ms. Kathleen Hein.

There was like this guy, right? And like his family? And they went to this hotel and it snowed a lot. And then a bunch of ghosts and team mascots were there and he went all crazy and shit and like, totally killed this bald black guy with an axe, right?… And these two girls were like standing there and going, “Come play with us, play with us forever.” And the dad totally smashed through the bathroom door and he’s all like, “Here I am! It’s Johnny!”  Then the kid and his mom were like, escaping, and the dad froze to death. I think the dad was that guy in that movie about the insane asylum we totally saw that one time in literature class. Right? Or maybe it was Alec Baldwin, you know, from 30Rock?

Ah! The Icy Hand of Death Is Upon My Throat! Wait, It’s Not.

Last night, in the shower, I happened to look down at my left ankle (yes, smart-ass, ignoring any magnificent organs I might have encountered along the way), and I saw a crop circle shaved into my leg hair—a round bald patch about the size of an Eisenhower dollar. “WTF?” I think, looking more closely, and though I know I’m setting myself up for a Gregory House encounter with any doctor I might speak to about my sudden deforestation (“You’re eating too much cheese. Also, you’re an idiot.”), I wonder WHAT IT MIGHT MEAN.

Then at lunch, as I’m walking to the old Marshall Fields building to buy a tie, I felt a distinct chafing sensation. A chafing brought on by the fuzzy insulation of my nifty, new, warm as toast boots. I stopped and pulled up my pant leg to discover that not only has the baldy dollar expanded, it’s also getting a little red down there. Long socks are in order.

Also, House was right. I’m an idiot. Why didn’t I notice this yesterday? I was probably distracted by the blizzard.

The Unknown Rogues

Stupid Things I’ve Always Wondered About #28193

Remember the old Batman TV show? Of course you do. Remember the opening credits? Probably, but not as well as I do. As a kid the credits fascinated me, because they were the only cartoony aspect of the show (which, of course, was as camp as Christmas, but that’s irrelevant to this post).

Anyway, during the credits, we see a large crowd of villains approaching (off-screen) Batman and Robin, only to have their asses handed to them, vis a vis onomatopoeic blows that cause them to fly through the air. Most of the bad guys are generic hoodlums and 40s film-style gangsters, but there are a few recognizable faces in the foreground. The Joker and Penguin to name two, plus,a few seconds later, someone who I assume is Catwoman.

Joker even re-appears after being severely mutilated by the comical Dark Knight.

What always bothered me were three of the bad guys appearing in the crowd. They seemed liked standard costumed antagonists, but despite all my useless comics knowledge, I couldn’t for the life of me identify them. It drove me nuts. The first two appeared to be some sort of anarchist/hippie mad scientist, and a guy in a scaly mask… or perhaps it was chainmail. Maybe he was an early appearance of Kobra (if you know who I’m talking about, you are a big damn geek).

A few second later, this guy turns up. He’s apparently some sort of serial-killing klansman rapist, or maybe Buckethead, or both. For extra geek cred I’m pretending that’s Clayface II behind him.

So who are these guys? Yes, the easy answer is that they were just generic bad dudes whipped up by the animation team to fill space. Maybe Killer Moth was too hard to draw. I’d prefer to think they’re secret Batman villains lost to the annals of time. Sure. If nothing else, they remind me of the background archenemies on the Venture Brothers. Maybe Grant Morrison will revive them.

As a Boy I Built Gingerbrick Houses, Because They Were SENSIBLE

So here’s a stupid question, but give me a break, because we never built one in my house when I was growing up. I’m thinking of making one with my wife and son, because it’s fun, and I’m freaking jolly and shit.

After you build a gingerbread house and let it sit around for a few weeks, are you supposed to eat it? Or is it simply intended as a monument to consumerism and folly?

Too Many Secrets?

One thing I’ve been pondering since Wikileaks issued its second batch of goodies is this: Considering the alternative (not revealing secrets) has it been demonstrably proven that keeping secrets is such a good policy for diplomacy? Because that didn’t seem to be working so well before things started wikileaking. There are lies we tell ourselves and lies we tell each other in order to keep things at a simmering boil, but even a low flame can eventually start a conflagration—if I may wax metaphorical. Some of what I’ve read sounds very familiar. Behavior that repeats itself down here in cafeterias and around the water cooler. The higher echelons and elites like their exclusivity. It’s all about their personal interactions, you know. The rest of us are just filler.

Just pondering. Sorry, can’t go much deeper than that for now.

Another note: I just read somewhere that the Wikidump threatens to “change history.” What makes this funny is that the implication is that history can be changed. What they mean, I think, is that the future desired and crafted by the Powers That Be may not come to pass. And that ticks them off.