What is there to be thankful for? A black president bringing change like a lanky caramel Dumbo-eared Santa Claus in his bag of hope – of course! Assuming he survives to the inaugural. Hunin, Heaven, Rib, Anson and myself discuss this last election and how it’s effected us as … urbanites. Another thing to be thnakful for: this is the last we’re covering politics for a long while. So if you’re looking for the last word, here it is.
Intro – The Maestro by Fernando TRZ
Indian Prospects, Choking is not appropriate, Fancy Sweden’s par-TAY, Hoax holograms. Sax and Bass Grove by Cyberdread
A Black President … Elected?
No Whammies, No Bradley’s
A Conservative in our Midst Miles Etait Dans la boite by Solcarus
Grand Old Issues Jazzyfunk by Cyberdread
The POP: Party of Palin Crab Walk Dubbing by Fernando TRZ
Time for some Changes
Hail to the Janitor
From the trailer, Role Models has the look of a Judd Apatow joint, but it isn’t. It’s him only by the transitive property of Paul Rudd – one of the flick’s several writers and been in enough of the funniest comedies of recent years to try to launch himself as a lead. Like Seth Rogan and Jason Segel, it’s finally Rudd’s turn – which I called five months ago – and he does deliver … Mostly.
Rudd’s common character is often the cynically depressed smart ass, as he was in 40 Year Old Virgin. He does break the mold at times, like his stoned surf instructor in Forgetting Sarah Marshall, but for this he goes back to his base. Thirty something stuck in a rut job and rejected by a girl, this time Liz “I’m trying to max out my exposure” Banks – which is a step up from Mindy Kaling. I’m not a Hindu hater but that’s the sexiest pic I found of her. At least she’s not Sandra Oh. It’s like someone Silly Puttied Michelle Yeoh’s face then stretching it over a football.
Anyway, this crisis spurs Paul to cause an incident that drags in his stupid horn dog boy Wheeler, played by Sean Scott – remember I don’t do the middle names, no William, he’s fuck’in Stiffler! The two are sentenced to community service with a kid’s organization or face ass-rape jail. At this point does jail have to be qualified as “butt-pounding”. Oz went off the air five years ago. Scared Straight was twenty-five years ago. We get it: don‘t go to jail unless you‘re REALLY a sick blood lusting bastard or Wesley Snipes.
Rudd is matched up with an uber nerd costumed LARPer (live action role player, the step siblings of respectable basement gamers) played by Chris Plasse (McLovin) and Scott with the anti-Garry Coleman Ronnie portrayed well by Bobb‘e Thompson (not a misspelling, he‘s Black). Paul and Plasse have a more realistic developing friendship. The adult teaching the kid to be more outgoing and the kid showing the cynic how to let go of his bitterness. Most of the comedy rests on Scott and Thompson. The boy does violent pranks and white teasing as a tough kid façade, while butt of the joke Scott swears at him until they bond over their objectification of women.
This is the charm of Role Models, these grown up kids are able to bond with these youngsters with issues over their own arrested development – and in doing so become more adult. Starts off as a slacker comedy but develops an actual morale to the story that you don‘t expect. This is a hallmark of Apatow’s flicks and is good to see Rudd adopting this.
Something that was attempted but failed was the super funny support cast. There’s no circle of ridiculously unique characters. Plasse’ parents are Ken Marino (co-writer) and Kerri Kenny from Reno 911, both actors from The State – genius sketch comedy show from the 90’s. They came of funny but could have done more. Jane Lynch plays the recovering addict head role model in charge of the program that mixes metaphors between child psych and Twelve Step in a funny way but not so much. The story climax has the whole gang dressed as a KISS-themed warrior band in a great LARP battle, so geek points are definitely scored for painting role-playing in a cool light and everyone ends up better than they started for the experience.
Not quite enough boobs for all the boobie talk though.
Making porn is perhaps a lost art these days as, given the publishing powers of Web 2.0, anyone can, and often has made one. Place recording camera phone at foot of bed, fuck on same bed, done. Not my favorite angle by far – too high a ratio of balls and man ass to lady parts – but that’s just a demonstration of the simplicity. You could say Pam Anderson’s old Playboy pictorial tapes were porn, but they really aren’t grandpa. Nowadays, with out at least a midget, one piece of latex clothing, more than 5 participants or a modified hydraulic piston with or without remote control it’s not really a porn.
This is more porn talk than was in Zack and Miri make a Porno, the latest View Askew Kevin Smith flick. You’d think a short, fat geek that’s made a career writing ridiculously profane yet oddly insightful movies would produce a more uproarious comedy. Or, maybe you wouldn’t. The writer/director has said in his Evening with Kevin Smith lecturers that he essentially hangs out with his kid bumming around until a bill comes up, and then he writes a movie. This is the first flick from him that I can see he wasn’t fucking kidding – not that I really doubted it, look at him! That obese, that inactive and a smoker, I’d be very careful what my last movie would be (coming from a place of loving concern – not jealousy).
Not as much of an homage to smut as you’d think.
Zack and Miri (the ubiquitous Liz Banks) start off as life long friends that live together in a slacker lifestyle of just above poverty. At a class reunion, Zack (Seth Rogan, no pic link needed you‘ve seen the fuzzy bastard enough) learns from a gay porn actor what a nice business it is. The man handler is played by Justin Long – straight guy Mac in the ads but with a waxed USB port in this – and is maybe the funniest performance in the movie at the 30-minute mark. Z&M decide to make a classic spoof of Star Wars – Star Whores – but the set is destroyed as a twist and jip to every geek in the audience that would pay triple to see porn like this made by Kevin Smith. All the while they squeamishly tip toe around the threat to their friendship this entails, but play it casual.
This is my main problem with the story. You’ve been friends with a chick for decades and NEVER try to spark it off despite being attractive enough to fuck chicks of comparable attractiveness – as Seth Rogen is apparently given his romantic opposites. If I believe you could fuck Kate Heigl, you can definitely get Liz Banks – maybe as a side dish. Zack is essentially Cal in 40-year-old Virgin, where he did fuck Liz’s character at the end. It’s not like Zack is a too shy nerd – he asks a jealous married chick for hand job, and gets one!
Would be more believable and interesting if they were an ex-couple that stayed close and had their attraction rekindled. It would have been more satisfying too if they finished the porn and ended their problems instead of turning into an awkward romantic comedy that made zero plot progress. Seeing a bit more nudity would’ve been a plus, but all we get are Katie Morgan’s tits (which can see all day on her porn star site) and Jason Mewes’ ass (that can be seen in virtually every Kevin Smith movie, if he‘s your type). Mewes himself was funny, as was Craig Robinson from the Office and other recent comedy flicks. A lot of the jokes where telegraphed scenes ahead so when Randal from Clerks get’s shit on filming an anal scene with a constipated Katie – it’s no big shocker. Oh yeah, spoiler alert.
That said, there’s a good deal of funny dialogue that is trademark Smith. Zack speaks with unabashed crass honesty and Miri calls him gross but does the same with enough beers. You’ll laugh a few times but could wait until it comes out on Netflix. Unless you’re such a diehard gay for Kev fan boy that this entire article somehow proves I’m a cocksmoker, then by all means ignore this review.
A couple of hardcore comic fan friends and myself – whom collected for merely a couple of years – used to assemble on Monday nights to watch NBC’s Heroes. We no longer do. It’s not because of schedule changes or my rise to Internet fame like a sea turtle gradually coming to the surface of obscurity for air; they merely see Heroes as a failed endeavor.
I can sympathize being a recovering Lost one – a show I now consider televised crystal meth, but was easier to kick … I imagine, never turned tricks for an episode. Interest turns to fascination; fascination into confusion; confusion to fear; fear to hate: Jedi Psychology 101 – but I ‘m not suffering from not knowing the island’s secrets. Abrams may never fully reveal them, just make a damn movie promising more. Cloverfield’s sequel is coming out. Yippie, cause I’m dying to learn more about lice-ridden Godzilla – maybe a steady cam will result in fewer vomit stained theatres this time.
Heroes hasn’t left me embittered yet, but it’s odd to consider that ardent comic fans dislike it so much – check it out
I could attack naysayers personally. After all, it worked against Obama … oh, right. No need, the series has some definite issues.
1. Super-powers prefer Blondes. I don’t mind them myself but jeez there’s a lot of Aryan tail on the show. Mocha lovers had Maya, but now she’s cured and gone. Momma Petrelli ain’t cutting it for the spank bank. The muscle memory Monica was jailbaity cute – like a Black Claire with actual kick ass powers. She and that entire branch of the cast have faded out so far this season. Micah orphaned with Nikki’s death. This trend is opposed by another series tendency …
2. Keep the brothas down. Black comic fans HATE being slighted over relatable characters. We had Halle as Storm in X-Men, but then she had to get log slammed by Billy Bob in Monster’s Ball for the Oscar. Now it’s like, eeww. We can’t get the smell of Skoal and Slim Jims off her. Still, better him than movie hubby Diddy.
D.L. had phasing abilities to permeate matter, but he’d been shot three fuck’in times? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me two more times and I’m off the show. They even finished off Nikki, Negro tainted, but feeling an imbalance of only four blondes on the show had to kinda bring her back with a long lost triplet Tracy. Usutu the precog I knew was gonna die as soon as I knew his power. Isaac Mendez at least succumbed to his fate voluntarily. Arthur Petrelli snuck up on the guy that can see the future. See the future, you see plot; you must die … Even if it doesn’t make sense. All we have is one-dimensional bad guy brotha captain power punch Knox. I know he’s gonna die before the end of this season. Oh no … NOW I’VE GOTTA DIE!!! Speaking of powers …
3. HOW THE FUCK DO MY POWERS WORK? I do get it. Heroes is a drama first with super ability action second. The emphasis is on the story told over mechanical coherency. This would seem paradoxical, as coherency is part of a good story, but then again with so much time travel we’re only giving science lip service at this point.
Papa Petrelli drains Adam Monroe’s healing factor causing the immortal to age 500 years in an instant and die … why? Just watched the new episode and the old man didn’t get re-paralyzed with the eclipse though his healing was gone. Sylar can study your brain to take your powers, being sensitive to complexity like a watchmaker… or psychoanalyze you. This one has a bit of sense to it. Without her super speed Daphne is crippled? I would think limping at the speed of sound would be an interesting – if outright fuck’in hilarious – ability.
So with all this why am I still watching?
There’s nothing better on in its timeslot – sorry One Tree Hill – and I do like a lot of the central conflicts. How will Peter get his powers back? How will Arthur Petrelli be defeated? Is Sylar becoming good? What’s Claire’s first sex scene gonna look like? It’s a soap opera with super abilities that’s on weekly – much more story than a twenty-five-page comic that only comes out once a month. I’ve got comic geek enough in me for the show to sate my niche tastes.
I’m joined by Rib, Aaron and lovely Lira for a discussion of the action flick genre. Defining what makes a good action movie with time examples. Comparing directorial styles and admitting to classics we’ve yet to see. Rib hasn’t seen Star Wars … really … forgiveness is work. We conclude with a discussion of the big action flick of the week The Quantum of Solace and seek to discover who the second best Bond is.
Sponsored by Steard’s Ginger Beer and Miller Genuine Draft, Aaron takes a Stand, Lira the Dream, Job gone & Hustle’in, Rib got Daytime TV.
The Training Day comprimise
Action is Drama, with guns, boobs, explosions and death
The Manly Movie type
The Everyday Hero
Pose Fu fights Rapid Fu
Birth of a Genre: The Last Dragon?
Hong Kong Classics
Generations of James
Remember those times I promised you a Dominion T-shirt, when we get them, for doing some service for us – one most of you didn‘t do?
WE GOT SWAG! Winter’s here and those of you that could’ve shown your loyalty are now left free-shirtless to endure chest colds, shivered timbers and needle nips.
Awww … they’re so warm too. Really, I’m wearing seven right now, but one would be enough. You could buy one now … or get some FREE BOOTY!! … or at least clothing for it.
Submit original designs/art to be emblazoned upon our gear here, post a link in the comments below or send them to firstname.lastname@example.org. They will be judged by the High Citizens of our forums (those with titles, but the weeded ones could judge as well) . For every design chosen to be worthy , the designer will receive one item of less than $30 value from our Café Press store to receive for free!
Your artwork will also be showcased for all on this the main podium of Truth blog site to be Dugg, Stumbled and given other net love along with a link to your design site or portfolio. Art Themes – a few of the thousand words your art should symbolize in representing us:
You may also choose any blog quote of mine that inspires you.
[quickly spoken small print]Submissions must be ORIGINAL art – plagiarists will be made to eat raw haggis as well as face standard legal action. Family relations of Dominus Digga or Tribune Hunin may not enter. Contest void outside of the continental United States, we love our global readers – but not enough to pay for that much postage. Art will be accepted as pictures only. Excrement statues, Tie dye swaths or macaroni sculptures will not be considered and may make you an enemy of good taste in general. Submissions will become the property Da Dominion and Mythic Group – even if it sucks. We are not responsible for any eye strain inflicted reading this. [/quickly spoken small print]