So The Next Joe Millionaire is going to play the same cruel trick as the first one, except with a different lunkhead as the "millionaire" and a bunch of European women who presumably haven't seen the show. Yawn. When are they going to do a reality show where they make a bunch of retarded people perform various humiliating tasks to win a cute little puppy, but then at the end, the "winner" gets drenched in boiling grease instead? If you're a Fox executive, you know you're going to burn in Hell anyway, so why not just go all out?
In honor of tomorrow's release of the Indiana Jones flicks on DVD, and in honor of my own continuing apathy and despair, here's a rerun from last May:
The good news is that they're finally going to put all the Indiana Jones movies on DVD. The bad news is that it sounds like Indy will be looking for "artifacts" inside his own adult undergarment before they come up with a script for the fourth movie. So here's my attempt to get things rolling. If Steven Spielberg or anybody reads this, feel free to use this scene as long as you give me a lot of money.FADE IN:
INT. CAVE OR SOMEPLACE
Indy is in a big room full of evil guys that are trying to kill him. He is a lot older than in the last movie because it is later in his life. He is with his faithful teenage sidekick Helga. She is totally hot. (Kristen Durst?)
INDYCheck this shit out.
Indy whips a ton of guys with his bullwhip. He is wailing on them hard and they die. Another one runs up to Indy and is really screaming like crazy. Indy makes a face and punches him in the face.
HELGAThat was pretty awesome. This is the '50s or early '60s!
Helga jumps way up in the air and kicks a bunch of bad guys with her fighting powers. She kicks maybe 20-30 bad guys.
HELGAI got sole! INDYDe-feet them!
Suddenly all the bad guys run away. Indy smiles and wipes bad-guy blood off his bowtie.
INDYI might be old, but I can still rock some ass!
Then we see that all the bad guys ran away because a super-huge bad guy (CGI?) just came up behind Indy. Indy is all like he doesn't know the guy is behind him. Helga is making "look behind you, idiot" motions but Indy's just like "What?" The huge guy grabs Indy and throws him all over the place.
INDYWhy didn't you tell me there was a guy?!?
Indy makes a face. Then he pulls himself together and kicks some ass. The giant monster-type guy dies!
INDYWhew! Now let's go get the treasure out of this cave or whatever!
They get the treasure and there is a lot more talking and punching and a big ending, this is just to give you an idea. Thank you.
REAL Ultimate Power!!!
Patton Oswalt Talent Showcase
Quick note about the Rall quotes below: They aren't from Rall's columns, but rather his posts to the Comics Journal message board in Oct. 2002. (Now long gone. The moderators flush out their archives every few months, and yes, the connotation is intentional.) I remembered mocking his pronouncements on blogs at the time, so the discovery of his new blog seemed like a fine occasion to dig them up from my own archives and mock them again. Not that you need an excuse, of course, but there you go.
P.S. FREE DIRTY DANNY
Amy Alkon's got a serial hate-letter-writer with some sort of fetish for bodily eruptions. She gets all the best hate mail. Mine just says the same two or three things over and over again, slightly reworded each time. There's no poetry, like "The acidity that bleeds out of your offal is ultimately more sad than anything," or "...hence the pus that permeates your spittle amidst your weekly printed rants." I mean, that's just beautiful. Make an effort, people!
Michele reports that Rall's got a blog now! And she's reading it so we don't have to. It's interesting to note some of his previous thoughts on blogs, from right around this time last year. I found them in the archives of my old blog. Let's look back the wit and the wisdom of Mr. Ted Rall, shall we?
I'm still studying the blog phenomenon so my opinions are still in a state of flux. But they are worrisome. While they're obviously a function of free speech in and of themselves, the right-wing bloggers (seems to be most of them for some reason) often use their Borg-like structure to stifle free speech.
Specifically, they link up to an article or cartoon or whatever that they disagree with. That link spreads like wildfire, and soon they're all asking their readers to deluge the relevant creator or writer's publications with hate mail.
To the non-initiated editor the sudden deluge of hundreds or thousands of e-mails might seem like a spontaneous outburst of rage from his readers; in reality, it's an orchestrated Internet lynch mob.
Welcome, Ted, to the hivemind of orchestrated free-speech lynchers and what have you! And then there was this:
...right-wing bloggers are not trying to bring my work to a wider audience. If they were they would maintain constant links to my cartoons on their sites, much as they do to sites whose politics agree with their own. Instead they let cartoon after cartoon get posted on my site without being referenced. Then, when they find that one out of 50 they think will provoke right-wingers to rage, they post a link to that one piece along with a comment along the lines of "here's another piece of shit by that asshole."
It isn't fair to judge a cartoonist by a single cartoon, any more than it is to take one quote from Bush and riff on it. But these guys aren't interested in fair-minded political disagreement--they're cyber bullies. But it doesn't matter much: nobody's paying attention to the bloggers other than the bloggers themselves. They are dead.
Not anymore -- Ted is here to bring them back to life. He's like a punk-rock Jesus!
So anyway, I'll just quote one thing from his new blog because it's hilarious. He's explaining to somebody why he has "e-mail guidelines":
I figure, if I'm going to reply to anyone, it's gonna be my fans, not people who hate my guts and wish I was dead. And yes, I also pledge to report people who threaten me to their ISPs and law enforcement authorities. Given how many nuts there are in the world, it's stupid to assume that people who send you a death threat aren't serious about it. So yeah, I take these things seriously. Think about it: when's the last time you sent a death threat to someone whose opinion you disagreed with? Right. Most people don't do that. So, when someone does, they should be reported.
The reason it's hilarious is that he once interpreted the following Usenet post as a "death threat":
Please let somebody kill Ted Rall while he's in Afghanistan.
That's the only thing I've ever asked for in my life for Christmas, except the Six Million Dollar Man with all the extra arms, and I promise I'll never ask for anything else.
Rall told the guy he'd forwarded the "threat" to the "proper authorities." The investigation by the CIA (Christmastime Interceptors of Assassination) is ongoing, presumably. But they must be doing something right, because this happened a couple of Yuletides ago and Rall's still alive. No word yet if that bitch Mrs. Claus was in on it.
As for putting comments back, we'll see. Oh, and the comment-spammer isn't the one who was posting as me in other people's comments, or my stalker. No, this is somebody who's been going around blog comments and saying vague stuff like "Great post!", with a link to some "discount life insurance" site. (See Technorati for details.) An actual spammer. Hence the suggestion that they consume feces and perish.
Slate has yet another one of those "aybody got they ass hangin' out they pants and what is up with that" stories you see every so often. Now, I enjoy looking at a woman's bran-canyon peeking out of her trousers as much as the next straight dude or gay lady, and I like reading about it almost as much. But it really shrivels my bone when the writer has to ruin things toward the end, in the course of explaining why this butt-cleavage fashion trend continues:
But the strongest argument for the persistence of the trend might simply be that we want to dress like the '70s because we feel like we're starring in a reprise of that decade: Our economy is bad; we're entrenched in an occupation abroad; we mistrust our government at home.
Yeah, that must be it! It couldn't be that guys like girls' asses, and there are more girls with fantastic butt cleavage than with the booblial variety. No, wearing your pants down around your beaver is a fucking political statment, isn't it. It's George W. Bush's fault, just like everything else! WMD = Wow, Mamalicious Dimples! I mean, check it out, his name is BUSH. That's why chicks want to walk around with their BUSH sticking out. Get it?
Jesus Christ. I'm sick to death of you Bush-slurpers and Bush-haters, both camps. You just won't stop. Why can't you people just let me get a semi-wood thinking about two succulent hams rolling around in a tight denim sheath? Huh? Can't a man have one small moment of happiness without being dragged into your bullshit, you fucking bastards?!?
Interesting Chicago Trib article about bloggers being an "unlikely new source of talent" and moving into that whole getting-paid-to-write area:
"It's a fundamentally meritocratic medium," says Gawker Media president Nick Denton, who hired [Elizabeth] Spiers. "Quality [rises] quickly on the Web."
So basically, the rest of us suck. Ha ha!
But no. Good writing is being recognized even though it's not printed on paper, and how cool is that? My own blogthusiasm is a bit low lately, but I'm still amazed that I can type out some half-baked crap on this deal and within 20 minutes I'll get an interesting e-mail about it. The stalkers and attack sites and comment-spammers and so forth, those are eclipsed by the positive aspects of blogging. I think.
*I hope the title change prevents some hyperventilating out there. If not, feel free to whine.
Channel 101 is where you should be. Go there. Download the hilarious no-budget 5-minute mini-movies. I don't care if it takes all day. Do it. In particular, you should be downloading Ultraforce, Shitbuster, Computerman, Ringwald & Molly, and Timebelt. The NY Times caught on, like 2 months after I told you to go there. Followers.
I'd write up a better explanation of why you should be doing what I'm ordering you to do, but my leg is caught in this bear trap and I'm almost out of ammo. GO.