Angels and Demons

I've had this argument a few times before, so I figured I'd settle it RIGHT HERE. And also: RIGHT NOW.

Who's hotter? Angel girls or demon girls?

Demon girls have horns and a tail (like monkeys), are covered in flies (because they smell like rotten eggs), and want to eat your flesh.

Angel girls have wings, so even when their hands are occupied (*wink* *wink*), they can still give you big, feathery hugs.

Case closed.

Live From My Bedroom

Hey, guys. As I walked into Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, I promised myself I wasn't going to just sit there and mutter "The books were better." under my breath, over and over for the duration of the movie. I decided that my interpretation of Bryan Lee O'Malley's characters was just that; I wouldn't act like some weirdo fanboy and jump up yelling, "Scott wouldn't do/say/eat that!" every time Michael Cera slipped out of character and acted like....well, Michael Cera. I would let the movie be itself and judge it with a clear conscience and a fair shake, unbiased by my burning, obsessive love for the comic books of the same name....*twitch*.....*twitch*

Scott Pilgrim doesn't wear wristbands. Why did you have to wear wristbands? Why is that your thing? Damn it.

Ok, that's really it though. I actually did like Michael Cera's Scott. Now I will review the *movie* like a level-headed hooman and not some lunatic nerd. Allow me to break it on down.

-Breakdown-

Visuals/Special Effects: For The Win (Level: >9000)

Casting/Character Portrayal: I See What You Did There (Level: 75)

Video Game References: Kind of Want (Level: 30)

Music/Soundtrack: ZOMGOMGOMG (Level: 777)

You have to see this movie. Wait, before I geek out and tell you how great it is, let me draw a comparison. This will be the worst thing I have to say about the movie (and possibly my only negative criticism.) Think about the word "awesome." What does it mean? Exactly. You don't even care anymore. It's been taken. Douchey teenagers have swallowed up the word, and turned it into a sound. Calling anything "awesome" has lost all meaning to them: a knee-jerk reaction to label anything out of the ordinary. It's chewed-out, used up, played. And for that reason, you have lost interest in it as well.

On that note, it's hard to respect the plot line of SPvTW. A self-proclaimed "Epic of epic epicness," there is little room for decent writing or coherent development. Any scene that could be used to house a pithy retort or a concise revelation is instead swapped out for stupid, boyish rhetoric or an intentionally hokey pun. You almost expect it to cut to Kim Pine and a "ba-dum-chhh" on the drums. For me, this movie could have been a 10 with better writing. Granted, it's hilarious when Scott strikes out with Ramona the first time he talks to her and I was all about Todd Ingram's weak-ass trash talk, but to have Scott wiff during a pivotal scene where he's supposed to *get it*? The movie really hinges on the action, and I guess you could just take it as Scott being Scott (a doofus). But, it seems like such cheesey writing betrays a deliberate trade-off between cartoonish action and a legitimate script. I don't see why they didn't try for both.

Maybe they knew kids were going to stamp the movie as "awesome" either way. So, why even try? They never really hit the nail on the head (they just hit it really hard.) Moral of the story: expand your vocabulary. Things can be more than just "awesome" and "not awesome." I think parts of this movie banked on that inability to discriminate...Although, all in all: it was pretty fucking awesome.

First off: the music. With Beck stepping in whenever Kim Pine counts off Sex Bob-omb, Metric lending "Black Sheep" as The Clash at Demonhead's single, and Broken Social Scene in the corner for Crash and The Boys, the musical scenes were freaking sweet. I expected a little more (any) 8-bit music. They did make the Universal logo/theme all 8-bit and chip-tune in the beginning, but where the hell was Anamanaguchi?...what?...in the video game? Oh, right.

And it wasn't just the actual, rad music that flowed perfectly with the comic-action. I swear I heard the Zelda Fairy Fountain theme when Scott stepped out of the bathroom to find himself in subspace. The bands set the tone for many of the battles, but there was a bunch of chill background music for non-fighting scenes as well.

The movie is edited extremely well. The plot action flows seamlessly in and out of the boss fights. My friend Marissa commented that it had a certain Run Lola Run feel to it. And it wasn't just Ramona's hair. I totally agreed. Like the way Lola remembers how to take the safety off the gun from exploits in another reality, Scott's ability to recall past mistakes is totally mirrored by the crafty strip-style scene cuts. Particularly in the beginning of the movie, there are some very clever setting/scene changes. Scott's surroundings mimic his life. Everything just kind of runs together; Scott floats in and out. Michael Cera does a terrific job conveying Scott's perfect inability to comprehend the world that revolves around him. Up until the first fight, you feel like you're just being stylishly dragged around. Things snap into focus and Scott checks in when he fights Matthew Patel. I like that the editing dictates/changes with the mood of the action. It's pretty sleek.

I've already written so much. I should probably stop. The main thing to remember is that the movie was made to blow your mind. I can't say it really did that on an intellectual level, but maybe it's not supposed to. Maybe it's supposed to be a stupid story about a boy who gets into a fight...an awesome fight.

You should check out the video game (scored by ANAMANAGUCHI) and download Metric's "Black Sheep."



Boss Fights (in order of favorite to least favorite)

1 & 2. Kyle Katayanagi and Ken Katayanagi
3. Matthew Patel
4. Todd Ingram
5. Gideon
6. Roxy
7. Lucas Lee

And Now I Need Some Help From The Maestro, Please.

This weekend was prodigiously acrobatastic. A lot of things happened. I got in and out without a scratch, stories intact. One night, we discussed censorship and transparency over drinks. Neil cracked me up by filling me in on old-school MPAA policies. I listened as he and our friend Tyler analyzed antiquated standards. Tyler threw out how ironic it is that "retro" is so in right now, considering how locked-down things were back in the day. People were freaking square.

Neil agreed, "Making movies, you couldn't do shit. Anything interracial? No. You couldn't have interracial romance. You couldn't have interracial smiling. Black lady smiles at a white man? Nope. Not happening. Oh, and anybody who does something wrong--like murders someone, or cheats on his wife, [basically breaks the social contract]--has to pay for it in the end. Like, they have to get punished."
I asked, "So bad guys could never get away with it?"
"No. It always had to catch up with them or the movie didn't happen."

It's crazy to think that certain stories simply weren't told because some bunch of geezers said gen pop couldn't handle it. People weren't allowed to think life was unfair, it was considered unsavory to smooch someone of a different race, one couldn't scope out this sexiness. Examining the struggle between shelter and exposure blew my mind. What were people so afraid of? Why was it so shocking? You like to think these agencies are protecting us, but it's weird to stop and think: protecting us from what? So anyway, that was Thursday.

Friday night we ran into a rag-tag band of Colonial soldiers. This militia of girls decked out like minutemen bellied up next to us at the bar in their tri-corner hats with Betsy Ross flags wrapped around their shoulders. We nodded as if to say, "Evening, ladies. You show those lobsterbacks how we do things stateside. Stay free."

Saturday, I ran around the city and set things on fire. Sunday I went swimming and hung out with the fam. Ok, I'm not trying to get all Xanga on you. I had fun this weekend, but there are cooler things to worry about than the my interactions with my supercool friends and family.

Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace


Darkplace is a show within a show. It's sort of like Kingdom Hospital, only difference is that it's perfect in every way--and it knows it. The actual program "Darkplace" is based in another layer of reality where moron/science-fiction writer/assclown/dream-weaver "Garth Marenghi" is called upon by the BBC to drag a spooky miniseries he threw together back in the '80s out from the the creepy recesses of his basement. He blows off the cobwebs and the Cheeto dust, ready to scare the pants off a new generation of "travelers" brave enough to venture into the horrifying world that is Garth Marenghi's idiot mind.

Garth and the rest of the cast have been called back for interviews which are scattered throughout the bone-chilling tales of supernatural terror which take place in Darkplace Hospital. Each asinine "Darkplace" character (like world-renowned GP Dr. Rick Dagless, suave sidekick Dr. Lucien Sanchez, unpredictable woman Dr. Liz Asher, or hardass Thornton Reed) is played by a two-bit, scrub actor on the alternate reality level (who, in turn, is played by an incredibly skilled, hilarious actor who lives in the real world that you and I inhabit). The sublevel actor-characters see Darkplace's re-release as a chance to discuss the ground-breaking work of art that they helped to create, but the implication is that the BBC just really needed to fill some air time and demanded that these people explain what the hell is even going on with this terrible show.

It's an extremely clever, very short series (all of six episodes). Steve Merchant has a hilarious cameo. I might have overcomplicated it, but whatever. You'll get it when you see it. It's amazing.

Wizard People, Dear Readers


Wizard People, Dear Readers is like Harry Potter RiffTrax only it's done by Brad Neely. You may or may not know that he is a genius (having seen The Professor Brothers and/or Washington.) He narrates The Sorcerer's Stone like a book on tape and it is ideal. I watched it last winter when classes were canceled due to a snow storm. It was perfect like a cat's birthday.

Brad Neely is over the top, but right on target. He deftly renames almost every character Harry encounters (with "Catface McMeowmers" for Madam Hooch being my favorite). He explains the mind-boggling action that unfolds before your eyes like an excited, concerned friend who wants to make sure you appreciate the magical fantasies that wait around every enchanted corner. He roots Harry on during Quidditch, he breathlessly delivers a blow-by-blow account of the ogre fight, he seethes with contempt as he relays the shady shenanigans of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. He sucks you into the movie with the most ridiculous enthusiasm.

I don't think he ever really got the rights to do this, but you need to torrent it. It is one of the funniest things I've ever seen.

Pogo (formerly Fagottron)



Neil tells me that this DJ has been extracting music from old movies like Charlie and The Chocolate Factory and Alice in Wonderland for a while. Disney saw that he was rad and paid him to do a few for Up and Toy Story. They did make him switch from "Fagottron" to "Pogo" though. Anyway, his recuts are sick and I really like the idea of using classic movies as the base of a song. It's not even a sample at that point: it's the source. Also, this song is sweet.



Underwater Land



Now, we both know that Shel Silverstein was the man. His work as an artist, a poet, a musician, a lyricist have all fascinated me. I have more respect for Shel Silverstein's creativity, versatility, and ideology than I can say. The man wrote A Light in the Attic and The Giving Tree. He wrote A Boy Named Sue. He wrote Cover Of The Rolling Stone. He ruled it all.

It comes as no surprise that the nautically themed album he made with Pat Dailey is one of my favorite collections of chilled-out beach tunes around. Yeah, they're kid songs, but I don't care. They rock. If you're going down the shore anytime soon you should download this album, put it on your jambox, and crank that jawn on the beach. They're goofy songs, and Shel Silverstein's voice is ridiculous. You'll be glad you did.

Sucker Punch

I can't even think straight. Just watch this trailer and know that this movie will rock your socks.

Itty Bitty Living Space

You know who needs to chill the hell out? Genies. Well, actually wish-granters of all kinds. Fairies, Magic Amulets, Witches, Elves, Wells, Magic Shells, whatever. It's like all they want to do with their limitless power is provide you with a perspective that makes you appreciate your life as it is. They eerily warn you in their breathy, condescending voice that you should "be careful what you wish for." But guess what, it's not a warning. It's a message that they are obsessed with.

Off the top of my head, I can think of like 734 stories about people getting schooled by the old Wish Switcheroo (five times fast. Go.) Homer gets repeatedly screwed by a cursed monkey's paw in Treehouse of Horror II. In the X-Files episode Je Souhaite, Moulder matches wits with a nitpicky genie who fucks people over with cruel irony when their wishes aren't specific enough. In the Buffy episode The Wish, Cordelia confides in a new girl at school--who happens to be an evil granter of vengeful wishes--that she'd rather Buffy had never come to Sunnydale. Through cunning amulet use, the wish is granted, thus destroying the balance of good and evil and plunging Sunnydale into a dark alternate reality where vampires run shit. Plus side: Willow is a vampire in this reality and she totally bites Cordelia. Nice.


See? These jerks never had the slightest intention of making anyone's dreams come true. All they care about is pounding this stupid message into their victims brains. It shows a complete lack of faith on the genie's part. They're all, "You don't even know what sort of power your dealing with, do you? Here, I'll pretend to grant your wish, but really I'll just set you up for disaster so that later you'll realize what a fool you were to tinker with the delicate flow of time and the fragile frame of reality." FUCK YOU. I just want to be able to set things on fire with my mind. It's that simple. Make it happen.

Side note: If I were Johnny Storm, I'd walk around with chocolate bars, marshmallows, and graham crackers all the time (especially in the winter). Whenever I saw a cute group of girls hanging out, I'd walk up and be like, "Excuse me, do you guys like s'mores?" If they say "No" or "What?" or "Please leave, creep." I'd be like, "You're killing me, Smalls." But if they go, "Yea." I'd toss them the ingredients and be all, "Flame on." BEST PICKUP SCENARIO EVER.

Long story short (too late?), be careful if you ever run into a genie, guys. Chances are they just want to teach you a valuable lesson that you'll forget in a month or two. Word things carefully and never forget to say "please" and "thank you." Genies are huge on manners and they'll pull your card for less.

When "It" Simply Will Not Do.

Hey, guys. You are "guys" right? Of course you are, because I use "guys" as a sexually homogeneous collective noun. I use it all the time. I mean, I probably wouldn't use it for a group of really hot girls (that's when I whip out my "Check out that skulk of superfine foxes." type vocabulary. [Animal group names are hilarious and fun to use. Learn them.])

But, quirky words aside, let's be serious: sometimes it's hard to tell just what sort of junk a person has stashed in his?/her? trunk. And I'm not even talking about the Pat-esque amorphous humans you see on the street. These days, there are actually attractive people who make you scratch your head. Ask any 15 year-old girl. They're all dying to get their smooch on with a JoBro or a Beiber (who I am fairly certain is--indeed--a woman.) And it's not just the effeminate boy that turns the tables, there are a few female sex symbols that would make Macho Man Randy Savage seem dainty. Lady Gaga is an intriguing specimen. She's like Tank Girl come to life with sweet pipes. Hot. Suicide Girls have taken the place of the docile bombshell pinup girl with a very scruffy look and a tomboy attitude. Things are getting interesting; that's all I'm saying.

Ok, this isn't anything new. We've all seen Some Like It Hot, Tootsie, and Mrs. Doubtfire. We've listened to Lola and King For A Day. We like blurring the lines and playing dress-up every now and again. It doesn't have to be gay--not that there's anything wrong with that. We've come to terms with these tendencies as a modern, ultra-connected society and now it's only the really weird stuff that offends anyone. So before we completely break down the walls of sexism and gender identification, let's take a look back at a few cartoon characters that always confused the hell out of me.

Samus Aran


Samus is kind of like the impossible daughter of Boba Fett and Mega Man. If that makes any sense...wait, no it doesn't. BECAUSE SHE'S A GIRL. Now you know how millions of kids felt after blasting through wave after wave of deadly alien forces, cold capping Metroids like it was their job. You save the universe and wait for Samus to remove his helmet just so he can take a refreshing swig of cold beer. Guess what? Samus strips down and you get a load of this smoldering sexpot.


What is she going to take a celebratory swig of? Arbor Mist? Fuck that. AUUUUGH. All this time, I've been playing as a girl? But he was so cool. Did you see that armor? I should go shower: I probably have like a stage 4 cootie infection right now!

Alright, calm down. Maybe girls don't have to dress to kill. Maybe they can roll up into little balls and set timed mines and stuff. Well played, Samus, you dangerous, sexy orphan, you.

Link


Voted "Hottest Video Game Character" by the gay/lesbian magazine Out, Link is certainly known as an all-around cutey. Straight, gay, man, woman: you have to admit Link is a sexy beast. I remember playing Ocarina of Time as an impressionable young boy and constantly referring to Link as "Zelda." I'm pretty sure I knew that this was a girl's name and I'm pretty sure I knew that you were supposed to give the hero of Hyrule a name of your choosing (I remember laughing every time I'd hang out with my brother and the great Deku tree would be like "Lumpy, do you accept the quest? You must be brave. Go fight Ganon. Save us, Lumpy.") And I'm pretty sure I knew Link was a boy. But none of that stopped me; it was just second nature to refer to such a confusing character without using "he" or "she." Zelda was the name of the game (quite literally) and it seemed to fit fine.

And, dude. Let's be real. You put Zelda and Link side-by-side, take away her crown and his sword...they're pretty much the same character. He's just a beautiful badass. Nothing wrong with that. Props, you weirdo little elf guy.


Nermal



If Nermal is a boy why does he have such nice eyelashes? And why is he so cute? And peppy? Ok, granted, he is a kitten. But still, it seems much stranger when he can talk (can Garfield talk? It's more like telepathy, right? Whatever.)

All of his tendencies and his overexcited, bubbly personality lead the reader to assume that he is an adorable little girl cat. It probably wouldn't have blown my mind to learn the truth were he not so catty (pardon my idiot pun) about Garfield's age and weight. He's constantly flaunting his rad kitten body and busting Garfield's balls like some 17 year old cheerleader hussy. But yea, maybe my misguided assumption is just a mark of my own sexist beliefs. You've taught us all a valuable lesson, Nermal. Also, would it be gay if I petted you? Ok, cool. Nevermind.

The End.

This Awesome Blog

Because I know Dan loves it when I right super short entries on this blog I will make this brief. Can we all give Daniel a round of applause for the picture at the top of this page! I had no idea Dan was taking that picture, and I doubt Andrew did either but it is an absolutely perfect picture for this. The only thing missing (thus making it not perfect and making me a liar, which I'm fine with) is Dan also not paying attention to the camera or any of the people in the pic.

Hip Kids Make The World A Better Place

Hey, guys. Do you know what the truest form of art is? It is the anonymous contribution of original creation meant to entertain or stimulate the general public. You have to realize that there are people who see the potential in free space. They have the skill and the confidence to selflessly express their inspiration and provide perspective to an otherwise minimally dimensional reality. I do believe that this is the most honorable and genuine reason that art exists. Some of us just want the world to be sweet as hell and they make it so because they can.

Please don't think that I'm saying that writers, musicians, photographers, and painters shouldn't be paid for what they do. On the contrary: it is of the utmost importance that a society recognize and support key sources of cultural development and respect the worth of intellectual property. But ultimately, the true value of a work of art cannot be gauged by its price. I remember walking through a thrift store, pointing out a particularly atrocious painting and remarking, "Dude, this looks like something somebody would buy in a gallery in SoHo for like $13 million." It was that bad.

But, I'm not here to hate on modern expressionism (which I'm sure I don't understand.) And granted, I don't know the first thing about fine art. But, I do know, like, up to the seventh thing about street/amateur art. Call me a hoodlum, a street rat, a diamond in the rough--if you must--but, I respect the motives behind such impermanent productions more than the meticulous precision of any well-preserved masterpiece you could find in a showroom or an exhibit. I'm a simple dude with a taste for the ephemeral. I like my art to hide in weird places, to highlight the unique, to jazz up the mundane, and to serve as a fleeting reminder that life is a wacky thing.

Today, I tip my hat to the pure-hearted artists who pick interesting mediums and don't give a damn what critics say. They are brave and innovative; they are many. Isn't it nice to know they're just like you (only cooler)?

First, a bit of clever, helpful interactive art. Think about feeling lost or disoriented. Now, think about being hustled and bustled out of a sweaty subway by a heartless mob of New Yorkers. Now, smash those two feelings together. NOW QUICK, think of seeing an awesome piece of art that tells you exactly what direction you're facing and perfectly reacclimates you to the world of London Above (and by "London" I, of course, mean "New York.") How do you feel? Probably as thankful and psyched for life as the lucky people who spy these little compass roses outside popular NYC subway stops.



That's right. Some kind kid with a can of spray paint and a soft spot for Pi has been helping direct subway-goers as they venture topside. I first heard about this from The Daily What and it seems to have become quite the big deal. The compasses all seem to be oriented correctly and are a snazzy, welcome addition to the otherwise lame sidewalks of NYC. Whoever you are, keep up the fine work.

Secondly, this adorable nonsense. I've seen it around Philly and a friend of mine has observed similar events in New York. Somebody (or something) is a master knitter and is swaddling local bikes and bike racks with custom fit sweaters. Yea, that's right. Look.






Who does that? Somebody that doesn't want those poor bicycles to freeze to death, that's who. Thanks, sir. P.S. That tree monster is the cutest yarn monster I've ever even seen.

Thirdly, children, check out these dogs. Somebody perfectly captured the "Yea, I'm gonna pee on this." attitude of a dog in paper mache and hid it in the tunnel under the Art Museum. Naturally, I slink through that tunnel whenever I can. I was so happy to find this scruffy guy and his little friend.




They're both gone now. The little one was stolen about a week after I found them and the big one disappeared soon after that. Like I said, good art doesn't stick around.

And finally, I wanted to mention this cool webcomic. This is slightly off topic and more authored than the other random pieces I've stumbled onto. But, I still feel that these guys are jotting down comic gold and sending it out into the internet for free. They seem to operate with the same open, sharing mindset. Also, the comics are hilarious. It's Left-Handed Toons. A ton of the comics make me go "YEA!" for a variety of reasons. There's even a bizarro side to the site (which you can find if you're very clever--like me.) But yea, check it out, hit random a few times. They're funny.


Ok, I drank a ton of coffee this morning and I didn't know when to stop writing. That's what that was about. Whatever, sue me. Bye, guys.

Christian Support Group

OK, if you chose to be all religious and stuff, I'm totally cool with that, I'm not into it, but you go ahead and do whatever the hell you want. However, if you've been raised all your life to be religious, had religion forced on you, that's fucked up. A small brainwashed child approached me the other day and offered me a free cross, it was very awkward to say the least, but the kid was like 10 and already trying to "help" people. Children born into (especially but not solely) hardcore Christianity have it rough, because they didn't choose to believe that, but once they are told fire and damnation awaits them if they don't believe it they're not really gonna stop. I want to start a support group that takes kids who never had a chance to choose heathenism and show them that there is more to life than praising invisible sky people. An open forum where heathens and Christians can come together and us heathens can tell those Jesus freaks that there are so many more options, and that they should be able to choose for themselves whether they want to believe in eternal damnation or not.

Warning: Contents May Be Extremely Cool

I've been thinking about advertising recently. In a culture of cut-throat consumerism, it's a snap to read the pulse of a target audience. Just dissect any ad designed to manipulate that particular group. Look at any beer commercial and you can glean that single males aged 20-35 are typically homophobic misogynists. (You don't drink Miller Lite? What are you, a gay? Do you drink mixed drinks like a girl?) Watch a spot about disinfectants; mothers age 28-40: overprotective germophobes. (You don't use Lysol? Good luck letting your children die of disease, you heartless wench.) Check out Cialis and Viagra commericals; married couples age 50-65: gross. (Take this pill, get naked, and hop into these side-by-side bath tubs. You two aren't wrinkly enough yet.)

But all pruney, naked old people aside, advertising is serious business. Gone are the days of honest companies and straightforward promises of a better life with their products. Earnest offers gave way to cheap jingles. Ad campaigns stopped trying to sell actual goods and services and starting pushing brand names. These days? I don't even know half the names of business behind the campaigns I see. If you pause and think about it: commercials today don't make any fucking sense. Why is there a Mancunian gecko selling car insurance? Why are there vikings getting double airline miles through use of a certain credit card? Who the hell are these weirdo Indian guys that are telling me to "get the cellular mongoose?"

Advertising companies have started operating with a strategy based on the worst-kept secret in the business: bizarre sells. Freak people out enough and they'll buy your merchandise. I have no respect for these campaigns that are simply strange. I feel like it's lazy. The company expects you to be struck by the absurd ad and then tell your friends about how weird that [Company Name] commercial was--thus getting a foothold in the public consciousness. Viral advertising can be clever and entertaining, but it has to be done right.

I'm sorry for dwelling on annoying ads for so long. The reason I started this post in the first place was to let you in on two ad campaigns that I find effective, clever, and extremely fantastic. First is Chex Quest.


Remember this thing? Good GOD this game was so amazing. I just downloaded it again yesterday. (You can do the same here: now updated for 32-bit with better graphics!) The game is basically Doom. But instead of using a sinew-slicing chainsaw to destroy demonic aliens, you play as the Chex Warrior using an automatic spork to destroy family-friendly slime monsters. The game was awesome. Best part is: I got it from a freaking box of cereal.. That's right. Chex and AOL printed up a few "Chex quest with 50 Free Hours of America Online 3.0" CD's and stuffed them into boxes as a prize.

This may have been the most effective instance of childhood advertising I can remember. All I wanted to do for like 3 months was eat Chex and play this game. According to the Wiki page, Chex Quest won all sorts of awards for advertising and practically doubled Chex's sales for a quarter or two. Sagacious maneuvers, Chex.

Next up: Wawa Hoagiefest.


Yea man, groove on the tunes in that hoagiebus. Wawa had Philly bumping like a bouillabaisse the entire week before the Fourth of July. Last Tuesday, they showed Grease (sing-along version) in Love Park and handed out iced tea and water. Wednesday, they gave out like 14 trillion Italian Shorti's at the Art Museum before they screened Rocky. And of course they were on hand at the Goo Goo Dolls concert on Independence Day itself. (They kind of sponsored it.)

But besides all the sweet free food and drinks, I can get behind Wawa because the music and art of Hoagiefest is baller. It's very Beatles (Captain Hoagie's Shorti Brigade is basically Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band). The posters are all very psychedelic and Parry Gripp writes all the delicious jingles. If you don't know who Parry Gripp is, let me show you something. He is the guru behind such masterpieces as Shopping Penguin.



Wawa Hoagiefest is just really goofy and scrumptious. The tunes are mesmerizing, the Hoagieman is a champion, the sandwiches are cheap and tasty. It's a genius marketing technique.

Ok, see ya.

Wisdom of The Foolish, Drunken Elders

Hey, guys. So, I was hanging out with my dad the other day. We were down the shore, and though we spent most of the weekend talking about coastal realty (*fascinating* stuff, believe me), we also took some time to discuss the world at large. We talked about the nature of man, his role in the universe, and the price of tea in places where tea is bought and sold. It was a learning experience.

I always like conversing with members of my family. We are a small group of highly opinionated weirdos. Problem is: we do not so much "converse" with each other as we do "yell like lunatics." We are a headstrong, impatient people. When there is a point to be made, it will be made. If one shows the slightest sign of hesitation, he will be cut off, talked over, or banished entirely. It is for this reason I speak like a coked-up auctioneer. As the youngest, I couldn't attain the volume necessary to command precedence in a discussion: speed was key. I had to get in and out before my dad or my sister knew what hit them. So yea, my speech patterns grew as a sort of tactical retaliation to the barrage from their side. For the most part, I was just listening in. I would mainly talk while other people paused to inhale. Oxygen intake was also key in my guerrilla oratories.

But, I don't mind. I learned a lot from my family. I never had much to say anyway. Such was the case last weekend. As I hung out on the beach with my father, it was kind of fun to listen to him hating on all the inked-up, tattoo lovers running around. He was thoroughly disgusted. And though I couldn't really agree with him, it was interesting to try to understand his point of view. We talked about why someone would ever get a tattoo. We talked about the played-out tattoos (Chinese symbols, barbed wire, hearts, stars, horseshoes). We argued about personal expression and self-respect. We discussed what such behavior says about our society. It was weird. Talking about such a dumb thing led into such strange territory.

At one point, I mentioned Foursquare. My dad said that he had heard of it. He was like, "Yeah, the thing they say is it's making it easier for criminals to know where you are. They just check your Foursquare or whatever they do and see you're in the mountains for a week and decide to break in to your home in the city." I was like "That's retarded." Then we got on this whole thing about the pros and cons of technology and the ultimate destruction of privacy. I claimed that such activity was just a new breed of the same old tricks. People are always going to be sleazy thieves, you can't live your life in fear. My dad argued that fear and reasonable concern are two different things. One should take into account the dangers of such social networking tools and use them wisely. I said that was dumb and I didn't own anything worth stealing anyway, so fuck those criminals.

He accepted my point and reminded me of something his mother used to say. My dad told me that whenever his parents went out and his mom forgot to lock the door, his dad would make a big thing about it. They'd get back and his dad would be all, "I told you to lock it on the way out! What if some one broke in?" and my grandmother would say, "[Chill daddy-o]. If someone broke in here, all they'd get is practice."

Which reminded me of the most important thing my father ever told me. One day he looked me dead in the eye and said, "Son, never fight an ugly man. He has nothing to lose." I always liked that nugget of wisdom, and it's probably the only reason I've never fought a lot of the hideous bastards I've known.

The End.

The tale of the lost city of Philantis

It was a mother fucker of a day. It must have been 100 degrees with 6 trillion percent humidity, basically the worst. I felt like I was being cooked in an oven in a volcano in hell. I'm sluggishly wading through the air when I see it. The sky was angry, an ominous cloud structure was moving over the city like a new super villain had just moved in. The black mass blotted out the sun, thank god, and a wind started to kick up. I take a seat outside my building while I wait for Andrew and the wind starts picking up. Soon there is a very pleasant, very strong wind whipping all about. Then, finally, I feel a single rain drop. I prepare myself for more rain but I never could have expected what was to come. Within seconds it was raining and seconds later there was a full on maelstrom. I couldn't see ten feet in front of my face the rain was so thick and hard. I ran out into the storm getting buffeted by water from every angle. In no time at all I am soaked to the bone, there's not a single dry spot on my body. I search for Andrew but keep being fought by the wind and the rain. Finally my fear gets the better of me and I take refuge inside, hell this could be a hurricane for all I know.

Video Game Roundup Level 1: Sega Genesis

In 1989 two rad things showed up in North America. One was a boy; the other was a robot. The boy was named Dan "Child of Destiny" McGovern. The robot was called...


SEGAAAAAAAAA.

The boy grew fond of the robot. He would laugh at the beeps and boops it made. He would blow the dust out of its cartridges. He would challenge the robot to "Mortal Kombat" and then accuse it of "cheating" and claim that this particular game was "freaking impossible."

The robot was incapable of any emotion. Genesis only knew how to cheat at Mortal Kombat and provide quality entertainment. Though it was just a heartless machine, it had some super sweet games. The boy still remembers those games today. He also remembers how much he rocked at them.

Sonic


Sonic is Sega. I don't think you can legally own a Genesis and not have at least one of the Sonic games. And for good reason: those games rule. Sure, they're a little bit hyperactive. You're playing as a speedy, blue hedgehog running around snatching up gold rings and "Chaos Emeralds," jumping on all these evil robot animals, and trying to save the world from a mustachioed lunatic named Dr. Robotnik who's hellbent on destroying everything cute and/or fuzzy and keeps showing up in these contraptions that are designed to pulverize our hero. (Side note: It's always fun to try to explain plot-lines/game-play of old school video games in a single breath. At the end you usually either pass out or blow the minds of everyone in earshot.)

But even better than the insanity of the story are the music and the level designs. I mention them together because they come as a package. Playing in Emerald Hill Zone? Get ready to run around a shifty, sparkly grassland and groove on some smooth adventure tunes. Chemical Plant Zone? Gun it through technologically superior pipes bopping along to advanced industrial beats. Casino Night Zone? Swank.

You can download Sonic (and like every other video game ever) soundtracks here.

Streets of Rage II


Again, the 8-bit jams that score this video game are off all of the following: the hook, the chain, and maybe even the charts. And those charts are on a logarithmic scale. That's right, I said it.

The story goes that some bad guy, Mr. X (so evil) has taken over the town (with cunning use of Tommy guns and ninjas [both human and robotic]) and kidnapped Skate's brother. Skate informs his brother's friends, Axel, Max, and Blade. They are rather enraged to hear the news and take to the streets, prepared to kill EVERYONE IN THE DAMNED CITY to set things straight. Streets of Rage II is built as an arcade side-scroller, but it's not as ball-bustingly impossible as most. This is one of very few video games that had appropriate gameplay difficulty during the switch over from coin-operated gaming.

Clearly, somebody realized that kids weren't going to be pumping in quarters every time their characters died. They ratcheted down the enemies to "Non-frustrating" and pumped up the tunes to "Serious." The result is a hecka fun beat-'em-up of rage and revenge.

Mutant League Hockey


I was never big on video games that emulate sports. For me, video games are meant to be based in fantastic alternate realities. When I want to play sports, I want to go outside. The only thing that could get me into a sports game would have to be...mutants, the undead, robots, molotov cocktails, land mines. You know things: that are great.

Mutant League Hockey has all that noise. The team names are all stupid puns on actual NHL teams. For example the Philadelphia (Philly) Flyers are represented by the Chilly Liars with players--skeletons, monsters, androids--like Skingros (Lindros) and Wrechin (Recchi). There are 20 teams from two conferences (Toxic and Maniac). One can pick up weapons, bribe the ref, kill the goalie. The game is hell on ice.

Though MLH is only a sequel to the original violent sports game, Mutant League Football, it is infinitely better than the first. Arcade hockey is the perfect medium for such cartoonish bloodlust. It is the clash of goofy, slippery controls and senseless, smash-mouth goalscoring that makes gameplay so fun. You can deek out the defenseman or just hit him with an ax. That's what's up.


Street Fighter II



Street Fighter II is my favorite one-on-one fighter ever. It's a pretty simple game that never really gets old. Beat your opponent into submission and look cool doing it.

True story. We were in Knoebels (pr. [no-AY-blays]), this ghetto theme park out in Bumbleflip, Nowhere. There was this one part of the water park with a ton of netting. It was like wall-to-wall netting. So anyway, we were running through this tunnel of ropes and I start climbing along the wall and I'm like, "Check it out. I'm Vega." and this jerk life guard is like, "NO CLIMBING ON THE ROPES." I yelled back, "I'm Vega!" she made a gesture indicating that I should get down. I tried to Hadouken her from across the park, but I missed.

Flashback - The Quest for Identity


Flashback was the best adventure game for Genesis hands-down. It was kind of a blend of old-school Prince of Persia, Space Quest, Running Man, and Blade Runner. You play as Conrad, a Galaxia Bureau of Investigation agent in the year 2142. The game mainly has you running around getting item A to person W so you can unlock door L. You also bust some cybercaps in a few humanoids and ultimately save the entire fucking planet. The game has a few obvious nods to cheesy 80's movies and excellent platformer mechanics. Retroactively reminds me of Futurama when I play it these days.

The Lost Vikings



If Lemmings wasn't so damn hard to play with a controller it would be the best puzzler for Sega. But it is, so The Lost Vikings wins by default. You play as three Vikings--Erik the Swift, Baleog the Fierce, and Olaf the Stout--who have been transported to the future. Each Norseman has a particular skill (speed, sword, and shield, respectively) that he must harness and lend to the efforts of puzzle-solving and monster-killing. Beating each level results in further smoothing the wrinkle in time, but also teleportation to even stranger worlds than the ones just conquered. The in-fighting and the vikings' interaction with alien life-forms are both adorable. The game is original and clever.

P.S. if this post makes you want to play any old Sega games again, check out the GENS emulator and torrent some ROMS. You'll be glad you did.

Movie Marathons Worth Having

Ok, It's the summer. Officially. You guys might have some time on your hands in the weeks to come. Well, when you're not gardening, building sandcastles, perpetrating a tan, or boogie boarding, you can watch some sweet movies. Here are some ideas for movie marathons (all movies included are certified to rock.)

Crime/Drama


1. The Godfather
2. The Godfather: Part II

Total Run Time: 375 mins
Mood: Rustic, Sinister
Comments: Goes well with Italian food, family. Damn shame they never made a Part III.

Gangster/Caper


1. Miller's Crossing
2. Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels
3. Kiss Kiss Bang Bang

Total Run Time: 325 mins
Mood: Clever, Quick, Trigger-happy
Comments: Careful not to try to use any of the slang you learn from Miller's Crossing and Lock, Stock. It's not the '30s anymore and you probably aren't British. It just won't work.

Adventure


1. Raiders of the Lost Ark
2. Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom
3. Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade

Total Run Time: 360 mins
Mood: Worldly, Dangerous
Comments: Excellent choice if you hate Nazis or love treasure. Or both!

Sci-Fi


1. Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace
2. Star Wars: Episode II - Attack of the Clones
3. Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith
4. Star Wars: Episode IV - A New Hope
5. Star Wars: Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back
6. Star Wars: Episode VI - Return of the Jedi

Total Run Time: 797 mins (this is a *marathon*)
Mood: Epic
Comments: This is the double black diamond of movie marathons. Watching the saga in chronological order has the added advantage of saving the best films for last.


1. Back to the Future
2. Back to the Future Part II
3. Back to the Future Part III

Total Run Time: 342 mins
Mood: Hyperactive, Mind-boggling
Comments: Michael J. Fox is the man. He would have made a sick Time Lord.

Western


1. A Fistful of Dollars
2. For a Few Dollars More
3. The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

Total Run Time: 392 mins
Mood: Stoic, Cool, Gunslingy
Comments: For a long time Clint Eastwood was the coolest man alive. These movies are hard evidence of that fact.

Spoofs


1. The Naked Gun: From the Files of Police Squad!
2. The Naked Gun 2½: The Smell of Fear
3. Naked Gun 33 1/3: The Final Insult

Total Run Time: 253 mins
Mood: Idiotic, Hilarious
Comments: So funny.


1. Hot Shots!
2. Hot Shots! Part Deux

Total Run Time: 170 mins
Mood: Goofy, Fantastic
Comments: Tied with Naked Gun series for best spoof movies EVER.

Superhero/Comicbook


1. Batman
2. Batman Returns
3. Batman Forever

Total Run Time: 373 mins
Mood: Vengeful, Punchy, Crimestoppy
Comments: Christian Bale got a little too breathy with Batman. Relax.

Old-school Disney


(Pick 2-3 of the following in any order.)
1. Peter Pan
2. Alice in Wonderland
3. The Sword in the Stone
4. Robin Hood
5. The Great Mouse Detective
6. The Little Mermaid
7. Aladdin
8. The Lion King
9. A Goofy Movie
10. Mulan

Total Run Time: ~250 mins +/- 20 mins
Mood: Nostalgic, Cute
Comments: Bonus points if you watch them on VHS. Throw backs ftw.

Senseless Violence/Action/Films starring the Governor of California


1. Commando
2. The Running Man
3. The Terminator
4. Terminator 2: Judgment Day

Total Run Time: 436 mins
Mood: Destructive
Comments: Arnold delivers some of the greatest lines in motion picture history and kills approximately everyone.

Kung Fu (Serious)


1. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
2. Hero
3. Ong-Bak

Total Run Time: 324 mins
Mood: Visually Appealing, Rad
Comments: Beautiful violence.

Kung Fu (Awesome)


1. The Legend of Drunken Master
2. Shaolin Soccer
3. Kung Fu Hustle

Total Run Time: 310 mins
Mood: Stunning, Fun
Comments: Hilarious, beautiful violence.

East Meets West


1. Kill Bill: Vol. 1
2. Kill Bill: Vol. 2
3. The Good, the Bad, the Weird
4. Sukiyaki Western Django


Total Run Time: 498 mins
Mood: Clashy, Gunslingly, Swordfighty,
Comments: All of these movies have killer visuals. Sukiyaki Western Django is one of the most well-shot movies I've ever seen.

Ok, and if you want to tackle a more substantial dose of greatness, you could have some TV Marathons (Not to be attempted in the course of a single night.)

Cartoons


Invader Zim



Samurai Jack


Adventure Time with Finn and Jake



The Simpsons (Seasons 3-8)

Shows


Firefly



Buffy the Vampire Slayer


Arrested Development


It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia