Thursday, June 24, 2010
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
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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.
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.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
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
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
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Me Fail English? That's Unpossible.
English is pretty sweet. I find that it suits my needs and tickles my fancies. I'm sure that other languages have their perks as well. I've heard it said that Hitler could never have risen to such power if he hadn't spoke German. No other language expresses such conviction. French and Spanish? Forget about it: those are some sexy languages. You whisper, "¿Como esta, senorita? Me llaman Nacho, 'El Sudoroso.'" in the ear of some mamasita and it's a done deal. (Make sure you pronounce the upside-down question mark correctly, though. I always have trouble with that one). What other languages are there? Japanese: confusing. Finnish: adorable. Irish: weird.
I don't even have time to get into accents. (p.s. have you ever wondered what it must sound like to hear a Jamaican person speak Chinese or an Australian person speak French? I guarantee it's as hilarious as it is in my dreams.) But, I'm trying to talk about English. I know enough about English to know that very clever people have done some very clever things with it. It seems to lend itself to concise, quick-witted prose and smart, silvery conversation. And granted, the entirety of my life has been steeped in the English language and it is possible that the tricksy intellectuals whom I admire for their cunning linguistics could have succeeded equally well with a background in other languages. But, I feel that there is something special about my native tongue.
It is a very strange language. There are tons of odd rules and special cases. If one is not careful, he will mistake English for an annoying medium with a rusty, rigid structure and little room for error. However, if one is a skilled artisan, he will learn to bend the rules and twist the preexisting mechanics into functional little break-dancing robots comprised of mood and message, powered by the ingenuity of his own vocabulary.
What the hell am I talking about? I'm saying you can be boring and mindlessly declarative if you want, but there are a bunch of fun words and interesting ways of saying things. For instance, let's say you have a Twitter account. Would you rather follow someone who tweets the non-sentence "Coffee." because he is boring and uncreative and obsessed with cliche, grown-up beverages OR would you care to follow somebody who has something unique to say and an inventive way of saying it?
Ok, I know. Some of those were pretty weird but enough of them were hilarious. I'm not saying everyone who speaks English is awesome, but it helps. And that's definitely "Wave of Mutilation" during the credits. Come on. That's good stuff.
Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo. This is a sentence. It might blow your mind, but it's perfectly valid. The word "buffalo" can be used as a noun, a verb, and an adjective. See what I mean? Maybe you have to be a nerd to appreciate English...oh no wait. You can also be a cool cat or a hardened criminal.
The British and the Australians have both contributed amazingly cool slang to English. I feel that people who know how to customize their statements with the right word truly understand the spirit of the language. It's not about following grammatical rules to the letter, it's about choosing the phrase that fits. You'd be surprised at how many words Shakespeare straight made up.
Sometimes I'm tempted to start saying "safe" instead of "cool." I've had to fight the urge to call hot girls "fit." But, I just can't refrain from calling an elevator the "go-up box" and referring to the doctor as "the boo-booman." I've already crossed that line.
But seriously, it's hard to appreciate such radtastic slang from afar. Even though I can't use it (and risk sounding quite the poseur) I still catalog the awesome phrases and words in my head. I collect idioms and catchphrases. I guess it helps that most people wouldn't understand half the words I said if I starting busting out a bunch of weird, foreign slang. But this impracticality only stops me from using it, I don't love it any less. And what form of slang could be more incredible and less comprehensible than Cockney rhyming slang?
This, is Cockney rhyming slang. You may have heard it in Lock, Stock, And Two Smoking Barrels, Snatch., or even EastEnders (if you're particularly into British stuff). Like the bartender says in the clip, it has its origins in the seedy London underground. No, the other underground. Criminals and all. Whatever. Listen, here's the formula.
When discussing less-than-legal matters, those who weren't exactly on the up-and-up had to devise a work-around to jumble their statements and avoid saying sensitive words in front of the Bobbies. So what did they do? Got a little English with things.
1. Take the word you are converting to slang and find a rhyming phrase.
2. Chop off the bit that rhymes.
3. Job done.
But, what started as a not-too-hard-to-crack code (criminals aren't too bright: this isn't exactly the Enigma) slowly crept into common conversation. It's not unusual to hear a Londoner hollering at her absent-minded son to "use his loaf" (Head/Loaf of Bread). But, not all the slang is so arbitrary. In many instances, the slang echoes undertones that are usually attached to the word. It can get very convoluted, but speaking utter nonsense that's been once removed from the normal stream of consciousness might be the coolest way to get your point across.
Examples:
Wife → Trouble and Strife → Trouble
Look → Butcher's Hook → Butcher's
Stairs → Apples and Pears
Ok, I probably should have written a little about the poetry and the novels I like which employ intelligent literary devices. I never really discussed why English serves well as a medium of the erudite. Next time. This was more of a "Gee, isn't English neato?" type post.
p.s. the answer is "Yes. It's totally tubular." Fry and Laurie, show them how it's done.
I don't even have time to get into accents. (p.s. have you ever wondered what it must sound like to hear a Jamaican person speak Chinese or an Australian person speak French? I guarantee it's as hilarious as it is in my dreams.) But, I'm trying to talk about English. I know enough about English to know that very clever people have done some very clever things with it. It seems to lend itself to concise, quick-witted prose and smart, silvery conversation. And granted, the entirety of my life has been steeped in the English language and it is possible that the tricksy intellectuals whom I admire for their cunning linguistics could have succeeded equally well with a background in other languages. But, I feel that there is something special about my native tongue.
It is a very strange language. There are tons of odd rules and special cases. If one is not careful, he will mistake English for an annoying medium with a rusty, rigid structure and little room for error. However, if one is a skilled artisan, he will learn to bend the rules and twist the preexisting mechanics into functional little break-dancing robots comprised of mood and message, powered by the ingenuity of his own vocabulary.
What the hell am I talking about? I'm saying you can be boring and mindlessly declarative if you want, but there are a bunch of fun words and interesting ways of saying things. For instance, let's say you have a Twitter account. Would you rather follow someone who tweets the non-sentence "Coffee." because he is boring and uncreative and obsessed with cliche, grown-up beverages OR would you care to follow somebody who has something unique to say and an inventive way of saying it?
Twitter: The Criterion Collection from sween on Vimeo.
Ok, I know. Some of those were pretty weird but enough of them were hilarious. I'm not saying everyone who speaks English is awesome, but it helps. And that's definitely "Wave of Mutilation" during the credits. Come on. That's good stuff.
Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo. This is a sentence. It might blow your mind, but it's perfectly valid. The word "buffalo" can be used as a noun, a verb, and an adjective. See what I mean? Maybe you have to be a nerd to appreciate English...oh no wait. You can also be a cool cat or a hardened criminal.
The British and the Australians have both contributed amazingly cool slang to English. I feel that people who know how to customize their statements with the right word truly understand the spirit of the language. It's not about following grammatical rules to the letter, it's about choosing the phrase that fits. You'd be surprised at how many words Shakespeare straight made up.
Sometimes I'm tempted to start saying "safe" instead of "cool." I've had to fight the urge to call hot girls "fit." But, I just can't refrain from calling an elevator the "go-up box" and referring to the doctor as "the boo-booman." I've already crossed that line.
But seriously, it's hard to appreciate such radtastic slang from afar. Even though I can't use it (and risk sounding quite the poseur) I still catalog the awesome phrases and words in my head. I collect idioms and catchphrases. I guess it helps that most people wouldn't understand half the words I said if I starting busting out a bunch of weird, foreign slang. But this impracticality only stops me from using it, I don't love it any less. And what form of slang could be more incredible and less comprehensible than Cockney rhyming slang?
This, is Cockney rhyming slang. You may have heard it in Lock, Stock, And Two Smoking Barrels, Snatch., or even EastEnders (if you're particularly into British stuff). Like the bartender says in the clip, it has its origins in the seedy London underground. No, the other underground. Criminals and all. Whatever. Listen, here's the formula.
When discussing less-than-legal matters, those who weren't exactly on the up-and-up had to devise a work-around to jumble their statements and avoid saying sensitive words in front of the Bobbies. So what did they do? Got a little English with things.
1. Take the word you are converting to slang and find a rhyming phrase.
2. Chop off the bit that rhymes.
3. Job done.
But, what started as a not-too-hard-to-crack code (criminals aren't too bright: this isn't exactly the Enigma) slowly crept into common conversation. It's not unusual to hear a Londoner hollering at her absent-minded son to "use his loaf" (Head/Loaf of Bread). But, not all the slang is so arbitrary. In many instances, the slang echoes undertones that are usually attached to the word. It can get very convoluted, but speaking utter nonsense that's been once removed from the normal stream of consciousness might be the coolest way to get your point across.
Examples:
Wife → Trouble and Strife → Trouble
Look → Butcher's Hook → Butcher's
Stairs → Apples and Pears
Ok, I probably should have written a little about the poetry and the novels I like which employ intelligent literary devices. I never really discussed why English serves well as a medium of the erudite. Next time. This was more of a "Gee, isn't English neato?" type post.
p.s. the answer is "Yes. It's totally tubular." Fry and Laurie, show them how it's done.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Hi. I'm in Deleware?
Ok, so I keep seeing commercials for states. When did this become something that happened?
It started with California, which I suppose does have a lot of things all in one state (surfing and snowboarding in the same season is even possible), but I just saw a commercial for the wondrous world of Michigan...really? Michigan is so lame, the commercial was all about fishing, so yeah, lots of tourist hot spots there. They could have at least TRIED to make it look fun, but instead they made it look relaxing but in reality: it just sucks. So, I don't know what their plan was.
And I would like to know if there's just one production company that's making commercials for every state one at a time (just like those state quarters which everyone is still tripping balls over right? Who can't wait for Hawaii to come out?) or if these states are just making these atrocities themselves. They def looked pretty similar, so I'm going to assume the former. I just can't wait to be watching TV one day and see nothing but state commercials so I can learn all the wonders of Nebraska.
It started with California, which I suppose does have a lot of things all in one state (surfing and snowboarding in the same season is even possible), but I just saw a commercial for the wondrous world of Michigan...really? Michigan is so lame, the commercial was all about fishing, so yeah, lots of tourist hot spots there. They could have at least TRIED to make it look fun, but instead they made it look relaxing but in reality: it just sucks. So, I don't know what their plan was.
And I would like to know if there's just one production company that's making commercials for every state one at a time (just like those state quarters which everyone is still tripping balls over right? Who can't wait for Hawaii to come out?) or if these states are just making these atrocities themselves. They def looked pretty similar, so I'm going to assume the former. I just can't wait to be watching TV one day and see nothing but state commercials so I can learn all the wonders of Nebraska.
Monday, June 14, 2010
I can't think of what to write.
Hey, guys. Ok, let me give you a little background and then a poem. So, a while back Andrew, Neil and I were hanging out in my apartment. We were doing typical college things, probably playing video games, plotting to take over the world, or watching movies. Anyway, I'm pretty sure I took a sip of my water bottle and--instead of swallowing like a normal human--decided to inhale the liquid directly into my lungs. I'm clever like that.
I then proceeded to choke and sputter and cough up the words "I'm ok," while Neil and Andrew looked on inquisitively. After the ordeal was over, Neil confessed that he thought I was a goner for sure. Andrew; on the other hand, was cool as a cucumber. He soothed Neil's frayed nerves, "No way. Even if he had been choking for real, I would have saved him. I'm certified to perform emergency tracheotomies."
Neil and I were stunned. Naturally, I assumed that he surely knew the Heimlich maneuver as well. I asked, were I choking on a piece of food, would he have tried that first? Andrew then revealed that he had only been trained in the art of the tracheotomy. Neil and I were worried. I claimed that I would rather not have my throat split by a psychopath who jumps at the opportunity to flick a blade and go to town on the neck of some poor sap who has taken something down the wrong pipe. Andrew said it didn't matter. I wouldn't be able to stop him. I couldn't say no: I'd be choking. The perfect crime.
Neil interjected that there must be some sort of universally understood sign-language. A gesture, a look that says, "No thank you. No. No Emergency Murder from Andrew."
I died laughing and promised to write a song about an opportunist serial-killer. Seeing as I have zero musical talent at the moment, I instead wrote the song as a poem. Here.
Emergency Murder
Let me tell you a tale of a town far away
where men lie dead in the streets.
Most will report that they lie where they lay
due to hasty consumption of meats
and of bread, cheese, and wine.
This excuse serves just fine.
But if one stoops down to look close,
he'll note the mark of a crime,
a most sinister line cut into the poor victims' throats.
So, the mums tell their sons to remember to chew
lest they meet a man dressed in black.
He shows up with a blade as you start to turn blue,
when you can't tell him to stay back.
As he slices in, he looks up with a grin
and you think of mom's warnings 'gainst choking.
She told you time and again
But you didn't care then.
What, did you think she was joking?
She went on and on.
She knew all along.
But, you'd act like you hadn't heard her.
You gag on the irony,
the violent dichotomy,
this cruel tracheotomy.
Then lights out.
It's Emergency Murder.
I then proceeded to choke and sputter and cough up the words "I'm ok," while Neil and Andrew looked on inquisitively. After the ordeal was over, Neil confessed that he thought I was a goner for sure. Andrew; on the other hand, was cool as a cucumber. He soothed Neil's frayed nerves, "No way. Even if he had been choking for real, I would have saved him. I'm certified to perform emergency tracheotomies."
Neil and I were stunned. Naturally, I assumed that he surely knew the Heimlich maneuver as well. I asked, were I choking on a piece of food, would he have tried that first? Andrew then revealed that he had only been trained in the art of the tracheotomy. Neil and I were worried. I claimed that I would rather not have my throat split by a psychopath who jumps at the opportunity to flick a blade and go to town on the neck of some poor sap who has taken something down the wrong pipe. Andrew said it didn't matter. I wouldn't be able to stop him. I couldn't say no: I'd be choking. The perfect crime.
Neil interjected that there must be some sort of universally understood sign-language. A gesture, a look that says, "No thank you. No. No Emergency Murder from Andrew."
I died laughing and promised to write a song about an opportunist serial-killer. Seeing as I have zero musical talent at the moment, I instead wrote the song as a poem. Here.
Emergency Murder
Let me tell you a tale of a town far away
where men lie dead in the streets.
Most will report that they lie where they lay
due to hasty consumption of meats
and of bread, cheese, and wine.
This excuse serves just fine.
But if one stoops down to look close,
he'll note the mark of a crime,
a most sinister line cut into the poor victims' throats.
So, the mums tell their sons to remember to chew
lest they meet a man dressed in black.
He shows up with a blade as you start to turn blue,
when you can't tell him to stay back.
As he slices in, he looks up with a grin
and you think of mom's warnings 'gainst choking.
She told you time and again
But you didn't care then.
What, did you think she was joking?
She went on and on.
She knew all along.
But, you'd act like you hadn't heard her.
You gag on the irony,
the violent dichotomy,
this cruel tracheotomy.
Then lights out.
It's Emergency Murder.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Why must they dance!?!
Listen up. I want to show you about a few things that I find exciting. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking "No, I'm not going to listen. You're just easily excited." Shut up. That is not the case. I just know about awesome shit.
Movies:
Norwegian Ninja
For when you need a man with the efficiency of a Norwegian, but the deadliness of a ninja...also, sheep.
Mortal Kombat: Rebirth
What could be better than a cheesy fighting tournament movie? Nothing. Not a goddamn thing. Get OVER HEREEEEE!
Tekken
Enter the Tekken. My money's on Eddie Gordo. Kid break-dance fights. (Call me a sell-out, but I kind of love that all my favorite old videogames are getting made into idiotic movies.)
Scott Pilgrim
You've read the comics; now check this. I was worried about Michael Cera as Scott, but he looks like he can pull it off. (Scott's more of a Doofus than the typical Cera character. He's not "cute." He's an ass with a heart of gold...and the best fighter in the province.)
Comedians:
Maria Bamford
Ok, I don't mean to belittle Maria Bamford and call her "pretty" or "cute" and distract you from how clever she is. Even though she is a diabolical hottie, she is one of the funniest comics I've ever heard. Check out her albums ("Unwanted Thoughts Syndrome" seriously kills me). She can do things with her voice that no mortal woman should be able to do. She kills it. Oh and she does a lot of voice work on Adventure Time.
Paul F. Tompkins
P. F. Tompkins is Philly fresh. He is also a flipping riot. I like the way his stand-up splinters into a thousand hilarious observations.
Sean Cullen
Sean Cullen is like a big, Irish teddy-bear, with a thing for James Bond. He has a delightful singing voice and a killer imagination. His ability to involve the audience is very admirable.
Music:
Foxy Shazam
Neil mentioned Foxy before. They are a bunch of psychos with a fat lot of musical talent. Their shows are intense. Notice how the keyboardist plays. Acrobatic even.
Sub Focus
I just found about about Sub Focus. He's drum'n'bass. I always liked Pendulum and this stuff is just as rad.
Trash80
Trash80 is a baller. Some claim that he is even able to call shots. He turns it out on a synthesizer like you've only read about. (Listen to this at the gym and pretend you're Megaman. Running on a treadmill to 8-bit makes you want to level up so hard.)
Ella ja Aleksi
Adorable 4-year-old Finnish rappers. I've described thusly, "It's like tricky little Finnish magicians casting weirdo spells to sick beats."
Books/Comics:
Scud: The Disposable Assassin
Scud is pretty brave for being a sentient humanoid assassin that's so...yellow. Scud was assembled in a world where you can buy hitmen at vending machines. (Don't worry though, they're only good for one target. Upon elimination of the mark, the robot-assassin self destructs.) Scud's too cool for that, though. He goes against protocol and puts his primary target on life support: She stays alive/He stays alive. Soon, he takes a position in the mafia to pay the hospital bills and he starts using all his robot abilities as a hired gun. The book is a freaking trip. p.s. Scud's not yellow. He's gold.
Neverwhere
My sister got me hooked on Neil Gaiman. Neverwhere is my favorite book of his I've read so far. It's about a young man trapped in a world that he doesn't truly want to be a part of and his adventure through the fantastic universe of London Below. An enchanting girl named "Door" needs his help just as much as he needs hers and together they figure out that life doesn't have to be lame and drinking wine that is given to you by an angel gets you fucked up.
So yea, look into all that jazz. It's fun stuff. I told you it was exciting. (I'm sorry I yelled at you.)
Movies:
Norwegian Ninja
For when you need a man with the efficiency of a Norwegian, but the deadliness of a ninja...also, sheep.
Mortal Kombat: Rebirth
What could be better than a cheesy fighting tournament movie? Nothing. Not a goddamn thing. Get OVER HEREEEEE!
Tekken
Enter the Tekken. My money's on Eddie Gordo. Kid break-dance fights. (Call me a sell-out, but I kind of love that all my favorite old videogames are getting made into idiotic movies.)
Scott Pilgrim
You've read the comics; now check this. I was worried about Michael Cera as Scott, but he looks like he can pull it off. (Scott's more of a Doofus than the typical Cera character. He's not "cute." He's an ass with a heart of gold...and the best fighter in the province.)
Comedians:
Maria Bamford
Ok, I don't mean to belittle Maria Bamford and call her "pretty" or "cute" and distract you from how clever she is. Even though she is a diabolical hottie, she is one of the funniest comics I've ever heard. Check out her albums ("Unwanted Thoughts Syndrome" seriously kills me). She can do things with her voice that no mortal woman should be able to do. She kills it. Oh and she does a lot of voice work on Adventure Time.
Paul F. Tompkins
P. F. Tompkins is Philly fresh. He is also a flipping riot. I like the way his stand-up splinters into a thousand hilarious observations.
Sean Cullen
Sean Cullen is like a big, Irish teddy-bear, with a thing for James Bond. He has a delightful singing voice and a killer imagination. His ability to involve the audience is very admirable.
Music:
Foxy Shazam
Neil mentioned Foxy before. They are a bunch of psychos with a fat lot of musical talent. Their shows are intense. Notice how the keyboardist plays. Acrobatic even.
Sub Focus
I just found about about Sub Focus. He's drum'n'bass. I always liked Pendulum and this stuff is just as rad.
Trash80
Trash80 is a baller. Some claim that he is even able to call shots. He turns it out on a synthesizer like you've only read about. (Listen to this at the gym and pretend you're Megaman. Running on a treadmill to 8-bit makes you want to level up so hard.)
Ella ja Aleksi
Adorable 4-year-old Finnish rappers. I've described thusly, "It's like tricky little Finnish magicians casting weirdo spells to sick beats."
Books/Comics:
Scud: The Disposable Assassin
Scud is pretty brave for being a sentient humanoid assassin that's so...yellow. Scud was assembled in a world where you can buy hitmen at vending machines. (Don't worry though, they're only good for one target. Upon elimination of the mark, the robot-assassin self destructs.) Scud's too cool for that, though. He goes against protocol and puts his primary target on life support: She stays alive/He stays alive. Soon, he takes a position in the mafia to pay the hospital bills and he starts using all his robot abilities as a hired gun. The book is a freaking trip. p.s. Scud's not yellow. He's gold.
Neverwhere
My sister got me hooked on Neil Gaiman. Neverwhere is my favorite book of his I've read so far. It's about a young man trapped in a world that he doesn't truly want to be a part of and his adventure through the fantastic universe of London Below. An enchanting girl named "Door" needs his help just as much as he needs hers and together they figure out that life doesn't have to be lame and drinking wine that is given to you by an angel gets you fucked up.
So yea, look into all that jazz. It's fun stuff. I told you it was exciting. (I'm sorry I yelled at you.)
Thursday, June 10, 2010
A la cabeza.
We both knew this would happen eventually. Let's be honest. You know I'm obsessed with zombies. I know I'm obsessed with zombies. Why fight it?
I can pretty much pinpoint when my love (hatred?) for zombies started: Resident Evil. I remember hanging out with my brother, Mike, playing the director's cut (yea that's right: serious business) of Resident Evil 2. It was then that I started to grow into the devastatingly clever little game informer that I am today. We would poke fun at the hilarious voice acting and the ridiculous cut scenes. Zombies were closing in on every side and we were scraping up just enough ammo to cap a few of them and get out alive, but did we care? Hell no. It was the raddest game ever.
Sure, I could go into the psychology of the zombie. I could lay out the ideal mythology of the zombie (none of that "fast zombie" nonsense will ever be tolerated in my house). I could explain why they are an ingenious plot device. But...What? I should? Donezo, sonzo.
Think about it. Zombies represent an overwhelming society of thoughtless, destructive drones who only desire to leech off of the the few competent, unique members of the population. Sound familiar? It's a physical representation of the baseline attitude of many modern cultures. It's very clear to see the parallels to a society of fashion slaves and hipster clones. People model themselves after celebrities and fall in line. People hate to think for themselves. They hate to use their brains...might as well borrow yours, right?
Zombies need no explanation. One thing that really bugs me about people is their incessant *need* to be bashed over the head with explanations. I get annoyed when people are too lazy to think up a hypothesis of their own, or--worse--are uncomfortable with unknowing. For instance, after seeing Cloverfield, I wanted to slap people who desperately repeated questions like "But, what was it? Where did it come from?" We don't know! No one knows! It's a fucking monster. I just feel like people that seek answers to such arbitrary questions are wasting their time looking for arbitrary answers. I could make up a fairy tale to tell you what it is, but that won't change what it means. Such is the case with zombies. They are institutionalized by their hazy, confusing, questionable origins. Good zombie stories glaze over the background with buzzwords and references to chemical disasters. Great zombie stories skip it. You don't need to worry about it; it's what happens after the outbreak that's important.
So now that we respect the zombie as a satire on par with A Modest Proposal (but sort of reversed), let's see what characteristics lend themselves to the statement while maintaining the zombie's ability to scare the bejeezus out its victims. First off, there is no such thing as a "fast zombie." It makes no sense. Modern horror movies popularized a new form of monster that shared certain traits with a zombie, but is not a true zombie. The slow, constant pursuit of a zombie is its defining behavior. Such mindless persistence is a disheartening, suspenseful, chilling reality. They'll catch up to you sooner or later. You'll be worn down. You'll have to fight them then. It's only a matter of time. Zombies are the perfect threat: psychologically debilitating and physically intimidating.
The wiggling, jiggling, quickster "zombies" only speak to the impatience of contemporary audiences. In a world of instant gratification, we expect violence on demand. We want the bloodshed now. Don't think about what's happening in the movie, just act scared and run away. You do realize how extremely meta bad zombie movies are right? Ok good. But, let's not dwell on the dark side of zombiedom. Let's talk about the material that matters, the authors, film-makers, and artists who know what zombies are all about. Namely? George A Romero, Simon Pegg, Max Brooks, mc chris, and a few others...
George A Romero's Night of the Living Dead
One of my favorite zombie movies of all time. Romero may have gone south after the turn of the millennium, but credit is given where credit is due. Night of the Living dead captures the fear and the hope of a survival attempt during a nation-wide outbreak. The only background is provided through the terrifying pseudo-explanations the main characters see on an emergency TV broadcast. Between the makeshift contingency plans they hear over the radio and all the main characters' survival plans (cut and run/hole up in the attic/hole up in the basement) it is a constant battle. The zombies threaten to tear the outside of the house apart while the threat of zombies tears the inside of the house apart. Super poetic. That's the beauty of the zombie. You can see the most basic humanity in the chaos of a zombie apocalypse.
Simon Pegg's Shaun of the Dead
I love this movie. I think Simon Pegg approaches zombies with all the awe and wonder that I do. His "romantic comedy...with zombies" presents the hilarious side of humanity that Romero doesn't focus on. Shaun is more dimensional, goofier than the characters in classical zombie flicks. He's an underdog with a very stupid plan, but you root for him because you know you probably wouldn't do much better. The film is a clever mash up of a zombie takeover and a triumph over the hangups of real life. I think that's part of what I love about zombies. They can be so easily slipped into the everyday. One minute your eating a Cornetto round the shops, the next your bashing in your step-dad's skull with a cricket bat. Life's funny.
[REC]
Ok, I'm kind of out of my depth on this because I haven't actually seen [REC] yet. But look at the trailer. I'm sorry it's in Spanish (you can watch the actual movie with subtitles, I'm sure.) But I've been dying to see it since the incredible writer and McGovern consigliere, Jon Rocks hipped me to it many months ago. From what I've researched, it's about a stone cold fox news reporter who's tagging along with a first response outfit. They get called to the scene to help rescue a woman who is trapped in her apartment. Guess what? Zombie 0. Kids get bit. Shit gets real. It looks like an expertly executed first person view of sheer zombie mayhem.
Michael Jackson's Thriller
Without a doubt, this is the greatest music video of all time. It stands alone as an absolute work of art (yea, it's a Tiny Toons reference. Wanna fight about it?). His ode to the magic of scary movies is presented perfectly. It's so stylish it hurts. He conveys the mixture of emotion, the shocking horror and lighthearted fun with impeccable timing. The sets, the makeup, the moves, the Vincent Price. It's all so good. Michael truly was a freak, but he definitely understood that spooky supernatural beings are scary as hell and mad fun.
Jonathan Coulton's Re:Your Brains
Ok, this video is really tacky and weird but I kind of like it. (And that's not Jonathan Coulton.) Mr. Coulton is a giant nerd with sick rhymes and wicked guitar skills. He knows how zombies get down, and he delivers a new perspective in "Re: Your Brains." Weaving in interoffice politics, he sings as a zombified pencil-pusher with a request. It's a charming song. You never really think about who the zombies were when they were alive. But then again, that's survival rule No. 1. (Makes it harder to shoot them in the head.)
mc chris Is Dead
mc chris is into zombies like you wouldn't believe. Maybe more than me...I know. I saw him live at the Church a year ago and he was pissed about I Am Legend. He's an all-around entertainer/nerd rapper so he monologues during his shows and does some stand up. He went OFF on Will Smith. He was like "Are you serious, you get caught in the BASEMENT? That's such a rookie mistake." He proceeded to unveil his plan regarding how the movie *should have ended.* It involved secret underground tunnels connected to mansions, attics, retractable staircases, guns, rations, barbed wire: the works. I was in awe.
It's no surprise that mc chris made "mc chris is dead" His album shares the same name and has a few other great songs on it (and a skit with zombie mc chris going to see his manager. It's a very good album.)
Resident Evil and Left 4 Dead
These games are the balls. Left for Dead is the new hotness and it is the bee's knees. Resident Evil is old school; in many ways, it is the cat's pajamas. Each game is elegantly simple: you get to kill zombies like it's going out of style. Left 4 Dead's team aspect adds an element of urgency that isn't found in Resident Evil which is normally more scary-chic and eerily suspenseful. Maybe I was wrong when I said fast zombies are for jerks. It's just a different way of presenting the same enemy. Instead of being a badass loner like Claire or Leon and slinking around solving puzzles to survive, you run and gun. It's a matter of taste. Personally? Hmmmmmm...both. I just like killing zombies.
Sure, this is all very popular stuff. Zombie movies are fun. The songs are goofy. The games....are outlets to a sick fantasy (not even going to lie about it.) But the true essence of a zombie is captured elsewhere. If I may quote a book that is at the top of my "To Read" pile at the moment
-Zombies: Encounters with the Hungry Dead (pg. 14)
The book looks rad. It's a collection of stories by very skilled writers (Neil Gaiman, Stephen King, Max Brooks, Ray Bradbury) all about zombies. You can read the first few pages on Amazon. One of the stories discusses Lazarus as the first zombie. Clutch right? Sounds interesting, I'm dying to read it.
World War Z and The Zombie Survival Guide
The Zombie Survival Guide is a fun, quick read. It's nice to have around. It looks cool and it's well put together. It's catchy. World War Z blows minds. It is told from a myriad of view points presented by a writer who was contracted by the government to document stories of a global outbreak. The story goes that his accounts were too "personal" and the the state had little use for such sentimental garbage. These first hand retellings of the bloody pandemonium that swept across the face of the Earth are so well written, they seem crazy real. Max Brooks takes thousands of tiny social changes into account that would never occur to you, but make perfect sense in such anarchy. Each story is told by a completely organic character with all the thought and feeling of a human that has lived through unimaginable pain and suffering. I used to have to be careful reading on the train because my face was constantly like "WHOA OMG!" (Great writing I know. It's a gift.)
Max Brooks is an absolute Don. I admire his ability to meticulously, logically construct terrifying, touching alternate realities so well. (It's good to be the King.) But seriously, you are not the same after reading it. I think I walked around the city plotting choke points and safe house locations for like a week or two. I mapped out escape routes from every classroom. I sized up doors, wondering how long they would hold against a mob of ~20 zombies. It's a good book. Maybe too good.
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies
I'll end the post here. P&P&Z is a great book. Seth Grahame-Smith takes Jane Austin's busted, rusted tale about some old bitties and some stuck up jerks and breathes new life (un-death?) into it. Elizabeth and Darcy remain just as dry and catty as they always were, but Mr. Grahame-Smith fastens them with a new trait as well. They are both exceedingly deadly. The flirting and the infatuation makes so much more sense when Darcy sees Elizabeth straight OWNING a few punk zombies. Her quick-witted, sharp-tongued, I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude mixed with her incredibly sexy mastery of martial arts is irresistible. There are times when zombies are but a trifle in the story. They blend into the background, they serve as an annoyance. Then there are times when zombies are outrageously thrown into the mix. Elizabeth and her sisters bust out the "Pentagon of Death" group attack at a ball when party guests find themselves being eaten alive. Yea, it's like that.
The book makes you laugh, cry, hate on Darcy, love on Darcy, hate on Liz, think Liz is a badass, HATE on Mr. Collins and Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and revel in the destruction of zombies. It's very fun you should check it out.
Ok, sorry for writing so much. I'm just really into zombies. So yea, aim for the head and travel light, guys.
The End.
I can pretty much pinpoint when my love (hatred?) for zombies started: Resident Evil. I remember hanging out with my brother, Mike, playing the director's cut (yea that's right: serious business) of Resident Evil 2. It was then that I started to grow into the devastatingly clever little game informer that I am today. We would poke fun at the hilarious voice acting and the ridiculous cut scenes. Zombies were closing in on every side and we were scraping up just enough ammo to cap a few of them and get out alive, but did we care? Hell no. It was the raddest game ever.
Sure, I could go into the psychology of the zombie. I could lay out the ideal mythology of the zombie (none of that "fast zombie" nonsense will ever be tolerated in my house). I could explain why they are an ingenious plot device. But...What? I should? Donezo, sonzo.
Think about it. Zombies represent an overwhelming society of thoughtless, destructive drones who only desire to leech off of the the few competent, unique members of the population. Sound familiar? It's a physical representation of the baseline attitude of many modern cultures. It's very clear to see the parallels to a society of fashion slaves and hipster clones. People model themselves after celebrities and fall in line. People hate to think for themselves. They hate to use their brains...might as well borrow yours, right?
Zombies need no explanation. One thing that really bugs me about people is their incessant *need* to be bashed over the head with explanations. I get annoyed when people are too lazy to think up a hypothesis of their own, or--worse--are uncomfortable with unknowing. For instance, after seeing Cloverfield, I wanted to slap people who desperately repeated questions like "But, what was it? Where did it come from?" We don't know! No one knows! It's a fucking monster. I just feel like people that seek answers to such arbitrary questions are wasting their time looking for arbitrary answers. I could make up a fairy tale to tell you what it is, but that won't change what it means. Such is the case with zombies. They are institutionalized by their hazy, confusing, questionable origins. Good zombie stories glaze over the background with buzzwords and references to chemical disasters. Great zombie stories skip it. You don't need to worry about it; it's what happens after the outbreak that's important.
So now that we respect the zombie as a satire on par with A Modest Proposal (but sort of reversed), let's see what characteristics lend themselves to the statement while maintaining the zombie's ability to scare the bejeezus out its victims. First off, there is no such thing as a "fast zombie." It makes no sense. Modern horror movies popularized a new form of monster that shared certain traits with a zombie, but is not a true zombie. The slow, constant pursuit of a zombie is its defining behavior. Such mindless persistence is a disheartening, suspenseful, chilling reality. They'll catch up to you sooner or later. You'll be worn down. You'll have to fight them then. It's only a matter of time. Zombies are the perfect threat: psychologically debilitating and physically intimidating.
The wiggling, jiggling, quickster "zombies" only speak to the impatience of contemporary audiences. In a world of instant gratification, we expect violence on demand. We want the bloodshed now. Don't think about what's happening in the movie, just act scared and run away. You do realize how extremely meta bad zombie movies are right? Ok good. But, let's not dwell on the dark side of zombiedom. Let's talk about the material that matters, the authors, film-makers, and artists who know what zombies are all about. Namely? George A Romero, Simon Pegg, Max Brooks, mc chris, and a few others...
George A Romero's Night of the Living Dead
One of my favorite zombie movies of all time. Romero may have gone south after the turn of the millennium, but credit is given where credit is due. Night of the Living dead captures the fear and the hope of a survival attempt during a nation-wide outbreak. The only background is provided through the terrifying pseudo-explanations the main characters see on an emergency TV broadcast. Between the makeshift contingency plans they hear over the radio and all the main characters' survival plans (cut and run/hole up in the attic/hole up in the basement) it is a constant battle. The zombies threaten to tear the outside of the house apart while the threat of zombies tears the inside of the house apart. Super poetic. That's the beauty of the zombie. You can see the most basic humanity in the chaos of a zombie apocalypse.
Simon Pegg's Shaun of the Dead
I love this movie. I think Simon Pegg approaches zombies with all the awe and wonder that I do. His "romantic comedy...with zombies" presents the hilarious side of humanity that Romero doesn't focus on. Shaun is more dimensional, goofier than the characters in classical zombie flicks. He's an underdog with a very stupid plan, but you root for him because you know you probably wouldn't do much better. The film is a clever mash up of a zombie takeover and a triumph over the hangups of real life. I think that's part of what I love about zombies. They can be so easily slipped into the everyday. One minute your eating a Cornetto round the shops, the next your bashing in your step-dad's skull with a cricket bat. Life's funny.
[REC]
Ok, I'm kind of out of my depth on this because I haven't actually seen [REC] yet. But look at the trailer. I'm sorry it's in Spanish (you can watch the actual movie with subtitles, I'm sure.) But I've been dying to see it since the incredible writer and McGovern consigliere, Jon Rocks hipped me to it many months ago. From what I've researched, it's about a stone cold fox news reporter who's tagging along with a first response outfit. They get called to the scene to help rescue a woman who is trapped in her apartment. Guess what? Zombie 0. Kids get bit. Shit gets real. It looks like an expertly executed first person view of sheer zombie mayhem.
Michael Jackson's Thriller
Without a doubt, this is the greatest music video of all time. It stands alone as an absolute work of art (yea, it's a Tiny Toons reference. Wanna fight about it?). His ode to the magic of scary movies is presented perfectly. It's so stylish it hurts. He conveys the mixture of emotion, the shocking horror and lighthearted fun with impeccable timing. The sets, the makeup, the moves, the Vincent Price. It's all so good. Michael truly was a freak, but he definitely understood that spooky supernatural beings are scary as hell and mad fun.
Jonathan Coulton's Re:Your Brains
Ok, this video is really tacky and weird but I kind of like it. (And that's not Jonathan Coulton.) Mr. Coulton is a giant nerd with sick rhymes and wicked guitar skills. He knows how zombies get down, and he delivers a new perspective in "Re: Your Brains." Weaving in interoffice politics, he sings as a zombified pencil-pusher with a request. It's a charming song. You never really think about who the zombies were when they were alive. But then again, that's survival rule No. 1. (Makes it harder to shoot them in the head.)
mc chris Is Dead
mc chris is into zombies like you wouldn't believe. Maybe more than me...I know. I saw him live at the Church a year ago and he was pissed about I Am Legend. He's an all-around entertainer/nerd rapper so he monologues during his shows and does some stand up. He went OFF on Will Smith. He was like "Are you serious, you get caught in the BASEMENT? That's such a rookie mistake." He proceeded to unveil his plan regarding how the movie *should have ended.* It involved secret underground tunnels connected to mansions, attics, retractable staircases, guns, rations, barbed wire: the works. I was in awe.
It's no surprise that mc chris made "mc chris is dead" His album shares the same name and has a few other great songs on it (and a skit with zombie mc chris going to see his manager. It's a very good album.)
Resident Evil and Left 4 Dead
These games are the balls. Left for Dead is the new hotness and it is the bee's knees. Resident Evil is old school; in many ways, it is the cat's pajamas. Each game is elegantly simple: you get to kill zombies like it's going out of style. Left 4 Dead's team aspect adds an element of urgency that isn't found in Resident Evil which is normally more scary-chic and eerily suspenseful. Maybe I was wrong when I said fast zombies are for jerks. It's just a different way of presenting the same enemy. Instead of being a badass loner like Claire or Leon and slinking around solving puzzles to survive, you run and gun. It's a matter of taste. Personally? Hmmmmmm...both. I just like killing zombies.
Sure, this is all very popular stuff. Zombie movies are fun. The songs are goofy. The games....are outlets to a sick fantasy (not even going to lie about it.) But the true essence of a zombie is captured elsewhere. If I may quote a book that is at the top of my "To Read" pile at the moment
Movies are great. Games and comics are, too. But there's something about the written word that is uniquely suited to exploring these horrors: not just the surface, but the resonant depths. Elucidating profundities that might otherwise be missed.
Not to mention rocking the fucking house.
-Zombies: Encounters with the Hungry Dead (pg. 14)
The book looks rad. It's a collection of stories by very skilled writers (Neil Gaiman, Stephen King, Max Brooks, Ray Bradbury) all about zombies. You can read the first few pages on Amazon. One of the stories discusses Lazarus as the first zombie. Clutch right? Sounds interesting, I'm dying to read it.
World War Z and The Zombie Survival Guide
The Zombie Survival Guide is a fun, quick read. It's nice to have around. It looks cool and it's well put together. It's catchy. World War Z blows minds. It is told from a myriad of view points presented by a writer who was contracted by the government to document stories of a global outbreak. The story goes that his accounts were too "personal" and the the state had little use for such sentimental garbage. These first hand retellings of the bloody pandemonium that swept across the face of the Earth are so well written, they seem crazy real. Max Brooks takes thousands of tiny social changes into account that would never occur to you, but make perfect sense in such anarchy. Each story is told by a completely organic character with all the thought and feeling of a human that has lived through unimaginable pain and suffering. I used to have to be careful reading on the train because my face was constantly like "WHOA OMG!" (Great writing I know. It's a gift.)
Max Brooks is an absolute Don. I admire his ability to meticulously, logically construct terrifying, touching alternate realities so well. (It's good to be the King.) But seriously, you are not the same after reading it. I think I walked around the city plotting choke points and safe house locations for like a week or two. I mapped out escape routes from every classroom. I sized up doors, wondering how long they would hold against a mob of ~20 zombies. It's a good book. Maybe too good.
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies
I'll end the post here. P&P&Z is a great book. Seth Grahame-Smith takes Jane Austin's busted, rusted tale about some old bitties and some stuck up jerks and breathes new life (un-death?) into it. Elizabeth and Darcy remain just as dry and catty as they always were, but Mr. Grahame-Smith fastens them with a new trait as well. They are both exceedingly deadly. The flirting and the infatuation makes so much more sense when Darcy sees Elizabeth straight OWNING a few punk zombies. Her quick-witted, sharp-tongued, I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude mixed with her incredibly sexy mastery of martial arts is irresistible. There are times when zombies are but a trifle in the story. They blend into the background, they serve as an annoyance. Then there are times when zombies are outrageously thrown into the mix. Elizabeth and her sisters bust out the "Pentagon of Death" group attack at a ball when party guests find themselves being eaten alive. Yea, it's like that.
The book makes you laugh, cry, hate on Darcy, love on Darcy, hate on Liz, think Liz is a badass, HATE on Mr. Collins and Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and revel in the destruction of zombies. It's very fun you should check it out.
Ok, sorry for writing so much. I'm just really into zombies. So yea, aim for the head and travel light, guys.
The End.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
He was like...he was like...he...he like...he was...I liked him.
Stop. Put down your cafe au lait, or your Snapple, or you banjo. Stop all that noise. Drop it. Go see Exit Through The Gift Shop.
"Synopsis": A Frenchman with a penchant for filming every moment of his life stumbles into the underground. His addictive personality and obsessive fixations lead him to dig deeper and deeper into the world of street art. Tagging along with the most influential artists of our generation (Banksy, Shepard Fairey, and Space Invader), he unwittingly, pseudo-autobiographically documents a movement that has enhanced urban reality and globally, fundamentally altered the way many human beings perceive their surroundings.
Real Synopsis: Banksy is up to his old tricks.
I've touched on Banksy before in previous posts. His art has inspired me in ways I cannot describe. It is so elegantly natural, stylishly impermanent, and tangibly surreal. His art is a paradox of form and function. It serves as an aesthetically pleasing reward to the city-goers who are curious enough to observe the world around them. Banksy claims that he just stencils rats everywhere only because he likes them. I see it as an allegory to his classical conditioning of contemporary culture. He's running an experiment. Keep your heads up, kids. Pay less attention to your iPod and your cellphone. Walls aren't always the same.
Banksy's art is designed to make you stop and think. Shepard Fairey says in the film that he puts the "OBEY" poster everywhere because it gains its power from speculation. It's nothing but an inside joke to him, but to everyone else, it has become an icon. Their imaginations empower the symbol and what was once a simple prank evolves into a revolution on an international scale. (Remember this. It's important.)
I took this picture on 2nd Street in Philly. Now, here's what it boils down to. All the art Banksy and Shepard Fairey and Space Invader make--all of it--is created for one purpose: to encourage every single person who sees it to wonder why it exists. That is all.
They know that nearly everybody will draw different conclusions. The art is alive in that each person who views it will project new, unique meaning onto it. (Ever notice how much Andre looks like a Rorschach inkblot?) They provide the world with an intellectual canvas, a challenge to dream up an explanation, a dare. They psychoanalyze the hivemind. Unintelligent people will simply be amused by the colors and lights, or afraid that it is a terrorist attack, or annoyed that hoodlums think they can scrawl their name anywhere they like. These camps will argue and converse and think of things they never thought before. Their capacity to reason is tested. Intelligent people are more patient. They notice the stir that the poster creates. They see behind the scenes. The world is different now that somebody sprayed some paint on a wall. It's a riot.
It's that simple. Banksy's movie is just like the rest of his art. There are subtle references all along the way. It's not "real," but who's to say what "real" is anyway? Every song he plays, every scene he includes, every word that the narrator says is expertly chosen.
For instance: in the opening sequence that shows graffiti artists deftly making their marks and skillfully evading the fuzz, Banksy cues up "Tonight The Streets are Ours". The song is perfect. First off, it rules. Secondly, it subconsciously, smoothly reveals the message of the film. Listen to the lyrics:
Don't let them tell you what to think. Here: watch this movie. We'll show you how to fight back. Awesome.
Long story short (too late?), Banksy crafts truthfully--and with no clever tricks--presents the story of a total sell-out. Thierry Guetta, the Frenchman behind the camera, becomes so obsessed with street art that he transforms into one. He desperately desires to be accepted into the community, but he loses site of what that means.
Banksy leads into this chapter of the film with an interview of a L.A. art collector. She tells the camera how she *had to have* this one Banksy and then told all her jerk snob friends with "real art collections" (she drops a couple impressive names) about him. They all wanted on. She is so pleased with herself to have discovered such an interesting artist. Pompus ass. She totes around Banksy's cred like she bought it along with the painting. They cut to auctions of Banksy's art. What the fuck! Who's selling it? It's not yours to sell. Everyone's missing the point. Anyway, these are the people Thierry starts to run with. He rolls into L.A. and drops a couple of quotes from Shepard and Banksy (his then friends), turning himself into an overnight sensation with a shit ton of art that's all for sale. It is an absolute Emperor's New Clothes nightmare.
There is so much to say about this part of the movie. Banksy kills it. It's genius. Thierry starts to go by "Mr. Brainwash," he pays art interns and stage designers to photoshop pictures of Elvis and build TV robots. His art is brainless and tired. He throws his doors open as a coming-out party of the hippest new street artist (a man with no talent or vision). Local newspapers eat it up. Yuppies pour in. Teenie-boppers crash the gates to get a glimpse of the scene. It's all so disgusting. All the self-serving douchebags patting each other on the back. "We're so cool man, check out this art. It's so deep." There are few people that are able to see through the charade, that the entire show is a hoax, that Thierry is a fraud and that his "art" is shit. But, they are overwhelmed by the hipsters and the poseurs. They voice their dissent very quietly (if it all) to avoid being stoned to death by the throbbing mob of self-righteous morons surrounding them. A cheesedick in a houndstooth Fargo hat proclaims that the exhibition is spectacular in every way. Turns out there is such a thing as bad press.
Banksy hands these people more than enough rope to hang themselves with. He has flipped the scripts so hard. "Mr. Brainwash" is asked why one of his pieces, an Andy Warhol ripoff consisting of a Campbell's soup/spray paint can, is so ubiquitous. He stutters some gibberish and ends his senseless, babbling answer with "It is because I am."
Thierry's "two day show" turns into a gallery that's open for two months. He makes nearly a million dollars. He cannot contain his excitement. He feels that all of this money and praise validates his existence. He relates, "Even one guy walked up and said, 'You're as good as Banksy.' So it feels good. It feels go to be accepted."
Mr. Brainwash. Thierry didn't pick that name. Banksy's got this movie on lock. He exposes our flaws. The way we process information is simply wrong. The way we think about money, art, ownership. It's all backwards. Humans are so easily confused, they do not take the time to stop and think. Why are we doing this?
Funny thing is: the movie's one big joke. They even say it near the end, in an interview with one of the artists. In discussing how Shepard and Banksy both played such a large hand in creating the monster that is Mr. Brainwash, one of the guys ponders. "I guess the joke's on...well...actually I don't know that there is a joke, really."
Joke's on you. Think about it.
"Synopsis": A Frenchman with a penchant for filming every moment of his life stumbles into the underground. His addictive personality and obsessive fixations lead him to dig deeper and deeper into the world of street art. Tagging along with the most influential artists of our generation (Banksy, Shepard Fairey, and Space Invader), he unwittingly, pseudo-autobiographically documents a movement that has enhanced urban reality and globally, fundamentally altered the way many human beings perceive their surroundings.
Real Synopsis: Banksy is up to his old tricks.
I've touched on Banksy before in previous posts. His art has inspired me in ways I cannot describe. It is so elegantly natural, stylishly impermanent, and tangibly surreal. His art is a paradox of form and function. It serves as an aesthetically pleasing reward to the city-goers who are curious enough to observe the world around them. Banksy claims that he just stencils rats everywhere only because he likes them. I see it as an allegory to his classical conditioning of contemporary culture. He's running an experiment. Keep your heads up, kids. Pay less attention to your iPod and your cellphone. Walls aren't always the same.
Banksy's art is designed to make you stop and think. Shepard Fairey says in the film that he puts the "OBEY" poster everywhere because it gains its power from speculation. It's nothing but an inside joke to him, but to everyone else, it has become an icon. Their imaginations empower the symbol and what was once a simple prank evolves into a revolution on an international scale. (Remember this. It's important.)
I took this picture on 2nd Street in Philly. Now, here's what it boils down to. All the art Banksy and Shepard Fairey and Space Invader make--all of it--is created for one purpose: to encourage every single person who sees it to wonder why it exists. That is all.
They know that nearly everybody will draw different conclusions. The art is alive in that each person who views it will project new, unique meaning onto it. (Ever notice how much Andre looks like a Rorschach inkblot?) They provide the world with an intellectual canvas, a challenge to dream up an explanation, a dare. They psychoanalyze the hivemind. Unintelligent people will simply be amused by the colors and lights, or afraid that it is a terrorist attack, or annoyed that hoodlums think they can scrawl their name anywhere they like. These camps will argue and converse and think of things they never thought before. Their capacity to reason is tested. Intelligent people are more patient. They notice the stir that the poster creates. They see behind the scenes. The world is different now that somebody sprayed some paint on a wall. It's a riot.
It's that simple. Banksy's movie is just like the rest of his art. There are subtle references all along the way. It's not "real," but who's to say what "real" is anyway? Every song he plays, every scene he includes, every word that the narrator says is expertly chosen.
For instance: in the opening sequence that shows graffiti artists deftly making their marks and skillfully evading the fuzz, Banksy cues up "Tonight The Streets are Ours". The song is perfect. First off, it rules. Secondly, it subconsciously, smoothly reveals the message of the film. Listen to the lyrics:
Those people, they got nothing in their souls.
And they make our TV’s blind us
From our vision and our goals.
Oh the trigger of time, it tricks you.
So you have no way to grow.
But do you know that tonight the streets are ours?
Tonight the streets are ours.
These lights in our hearts they tell no lies.
Don't let them tell you what to think. Here: watch this movie. We'll show you how to fight back. Awesome.
Long story short (too late?), Banksy crafts truthfully--and with no clever tricks--presents the story of a total sell-out. Thierry Guetta, the Frenchman behind the camera, becomes so obsessed with street art that he transforms into one. He desperately desires to be accepted into the community, but he loses site of what that means.
Banksy leads into this chapter of the film with an interview of a L.A. art collector. She tells the camera how she *had to have* this one Banksy and then told all her jerk snob friends with "real art collections" (she drops a couple impressive names) about him. They all wanted on. She is so pleased with herself to have discovered such an interesting artist. Pompus ass. She totes around Banksy's cred like she bought it along with the painting. They cut to auctions of Banksy's art. What the fuck! Who's selling it? It's not yours to sell. Everyone's missing the point. Anyway, these are the people Thierry starts to run with. He rolls into L.A. and drops a couple of quotes from Shepard and Banksy (his then friends), turning himself into an overnight sensation with a shit ton of art that's all for sale. It is an absolute Emperor's New Clothes nightmare.
There is so much to say about this part of the movie. Banksy kills it. It's genius. Thierry starts to go by "Mr. Brainwash," he pays art interns and stage designers to photoshop pictures of Elvis and build TV robots. His art is brainless and tired. He throws his doors open as a coming-out party of the hippest new street artist (a man with no talent or vision). Local newspapers eat it up. Yuppies pour in. Teenie-boppers crash the gates to get a glimpse of the scene. It's all so disgusting. All the self-serving douchebags patting each other on the back. "We're so cool man, check out this art. It's so deep." There are few people that are able to see through the charade, that the entire show is a hoax, that Thierry is a fraud and that his "art" is shit. But, they are overwhelmed by the hipsters and the poseurs. They voice their dissent very quietly (if it all) to avoid being stoned to death by the throbbing mob of self-righteous morons surrounding them. A cheesedick in a houndstooth Fargo hat proclaims that the exhibition is spectacular in every way. Turns out there is such a thing as bad press.
Banksy hands these people more than enough rope to hang themselves with. He has flipped the scripts so hard. "Mr. Brainwash" is asked why one of his pieces, an Andy Warhol ripoff consisting of a Campbell's soup/spray paint can, is so ubiquitous. He stutters some gibberish and ends his senseless, babbling answer with "It is because I am."
Thierry's "two day show" turns into a gallery that's open for two months. He makes nearly a million dollars. He cannot contain his excitement. He feels that all of this money and praise validates his existence. He relates, "Even one guy walked up and said, 'You're as good as Banksy.' So it feels good. It feels go to be accepted."
Mr. Brainwash. Thierry didn't pick that name. Banksy's got this movie on lock. He exposes our flaws. The way we process information is simply wrong. The way we think about money, art, ownership. It's all backwards. Humans are so easily confused, they do not take the time to stop and think. Why are we doing this?
Funny thing is: the movie's one big joke. They even say it near the end, in an interview with one of the artists. In discussing how Shepard and Banksy both played such a large hand in creating the monster that is Mr. Brainwash, one of the guys ponders. "I guess the joke's on...well...actually I don't know that there is a joke, really."
Joke's on you. Think about it.
Short and Sweet
I like things that are short and to the point. Things that are very simple and pleasurable, especially in advertisement and especially not in "fine art" (fuck minimalist painting, "hey look at this piece of canvas I painted entirely white, its so deep"). The new Fanta labels are fantastically low key and miles better than the shitty mtn (fuck that: it's "mountain") dew label that's all like "shmowzow look at how cool we are." Its annoying.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Spills, Thrills, Laughs, and Games.
Hey, guys. A ninja is always aware of his surroundings. He knows that the rug you're standing on could be pulled out from under you with 95 Newtons of force. He knows that it would take three of your bedsheets tied together to get down from the fourth story of your building safely. He knows what's inside your fridge and every single meal he could make with those specific ingredients. That is why ninjas are very strange party guests/boyfriends. They'll make you dinner/roll you up in your own carpeting/and sneak out a window before you can say "Wait, I need those sheets."
How do they do it? The key is to stay sharp. As an explorer, I like to play games that hone my senses of perception. In the city I read license plates and punch strangers when I spy VW bugs. I eavesdrop on hustlebustlers walking past me and kids dining at outdoor cafes. I lick payphones. You know: explorer stuff.
Here are some games you can play to practice being a ninja (which is like being an adventurer but with more swords and sneakiness.)
--The Walmart Game--
Price: $1 - $ ???
No. of Players: 1-10
Pieces: A sense of humor, a Walmart, some money
The Walmart Game is simple and quick. It does require that you buy things, but the seasoned pro will know how to keep things cheap and still succeed. The game starts when you enter a Walmart (or other store where you can buy ANYTHING and EVERYTHING). Your only goal is to find a combination of three items that will make you look like the biggest creep at the checkout. The beauty is that you can decide what manner of creep you wish to portray. All you need to do is remain in character at the register and lead the cashier to ponder what exactly is your deal. Try to think of the weirdest thing you could be doing with such a strange array of items. Hopefully, she'll think you're doing something even stranger. Some potential winning combos?
A machete, a box of band-aids, and a gallon of Sunny-D.
A Bratz doll, bee repellent, a dart board.
A super soaker, an industrial sized bottle of tomato juice, a bedazzled bikini (ask if you can pay for just the bikini top. Claim that you "won't need the bottom.")
--Assassins--
Price: $[no. of players] x 2 (for start-up materials: can be reused over and over for future games)
No. of Players: 10-200
Pieces: Water pistols for each player, a gamemaster, killer instinct, internets
You've probably heard of Assassins before. All you need to do is get a bunch of people, give them water pistols, and tell them their mark. Every player is a hitman trying to off another player. Only the gamemaster knows who is trying to "kill" who. The key to the kill is discretion. A hit doesn't count if somebody sees the shot go off (and then your quarry knows you're gunning for him.) The game has to be managed cleverly so as to avoid stalemates and other sticky situations. Personally, I would enact a scoring system with style points. +5 if you make the kill in a tie. +10 if you use a pithy line before the kill ("Ice to meet you, Batman.") Typical rules regarding safety apply. Remember it's a game.
Rules: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Assassin_(game)
Hosting: http://www.sassins.com/
--Humans vs. Zombies--
Price: $[no. of players] x 3 (for start-up materials: can be reused over and over for future games)
No. of Players: 10-200
Pieces: Nerf pistols, bandannas, a gamemaster, a thirst for blood and brains or a will to survive, note cards, internets
Much like Assassins, Humans vs. Zombies is built to be massively multiplayer. An original zombie hunts down and devours every human player. Newly zombified players report their demise and switch sides on an internet server. The game is hosted live so you can always know the score. You might need to book it across campus when you're one of the last humans left alive. How many rounds can you fit in a Nerf revolver? Use them wisely.
Rules: http://humansvszombies.org/rules
Hosting: http://humansvszombies.org/hosting
--Tron--
Price: $ 0
No. of Players: 2
Pieces: GPS-enabled cellphones, freerunning skills or bikes
My physics T.A. told me about this last one. If you want to feel like a security program and you live in a city with decently defined streets, guess what? You totally can. There are a ton of satellites thousands of feet above your head just waiting to tell you where you are. All you need to do is log that information live as you run through the city and guess what you've got? A light trail. You just turned your fixie into a lightbike, friendo. What does that do? Does it blow your mind? So yea, you cut your friends off just like in the arcade. Only this time? It's personal.
Info: http://www.we-make-money-not-art.com/archives/2005/01/the-gps-applica.php
How do they do it? The key is to stay sharp. As an explorer, I like to play games that hone my senses of perception. In the city I read license plates and punch strangers when I spy VW bugs. I eavesdrop on hustlebustlers walking past me and kids dining at outdoor cafes. I lick payphones. You know: explorer stuff.
Here are some games you can play to practice being a ninja (which is like being an adventurer but with more swords and sneakiness.)
--The Walmart Game--
Price: $1 - $ ???
No. of Players: 1-10
Pieces: A sense of humor, a Walmart, some money
The Walmart Game is simple and quick. It does require that you buy things, but the seasoned pro will know how to keep things cheap and still succeed. The game starts when you enter a Walmart (or other store where you can buy ANYTHING and EVERYTHING). Your only goal is to find a combination of three items that will make you look like the biggest creep at the checkout. The beauty is that you can decide what manner of creep you wish to portray. All you need to do is remain in character at the register and lead the cashier to ponder what exactly is your deal. Try to think of the weirdest thing you could be doing with such a strange array of items. Hopefully, she'll think you're doing something even stranger. Some potential winning combos?
A machete, a box of band-aids, and a gallon of Sunny-D.
A Bratz doll, bee repellent, a dart board.
A super soaker, an industrial sized bottle of tomato juice, a bedazzled bikini (ask if you can pay for just the bikini top. Claim that you "won't need the bottom.")
--Assassins--
Price: $[no. of players] x 2 (for start-up materials: can be reused over and over for future games)
No. of Players: 10-200
Pieces: Water pistols for each player, a gamemaster, killer instinct, internets
You've probably heard of Assassins before. All you need to do is get a bunch of people, give them water pistols, and tell them their mark. Every player is a hitman trying to off another player. Only the gamemaster knows who is trying to "kill" who. The key to the kill is discretion. A hit doesn't count if somebody sees the shot go off (and then your quarry knows you're gunning for him.) The game has to be managed cleverly so as to avoid stalemates and other sticky situations. Personally, I would enact a scoring system with style points. +5 if you make the kill in a tie. +10 if you use a pithy line before the kill ("Ice to meet you, Batman.") Typical rules regarding safety apply. Remember it's a game.
Rules: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Assassin_(game)
Hosting: http://www.sassins.com/
--Humans vs. Zombies--
Price: $[no. of players] x 3 (for start-up materials: can be reused over and over for future games)
No. of Players: 10-200
Pieces: Nerf pistols, bandannas, a gamemaster, a thirst for blood and brains or a will to survive, note cards, internets
Much like Assassins, Humans vs. Zombies is built to be massively multiplayer. An original zombie hunts down and devours every human player. Newly zombified players report their demise and switch sides on an internet server. The game is hosted live so you can always know the score. You might need to book it across campus when you're one of the last humans left alive. How many rounds can you fit in a Nerf revolver? Use them wisely.
Rules: http://humansvszombies.org/rules
Hosting: http://humansvszombies.org/hosting
--Tron--
Price: $ 0
No. of Players: 2
Pieces: GPS-enabled cellphones, freerunning skills or bikes
My physics T.A. told me about this last one. If you want to feel like a security program and you live in a city with decently defined streets, guess what? You totally can. There are a ton of satellites thousands of feet above your head just waiting to tell you where you are. All you need to do is log that information live as you run through the city and guess what you've got? A light trail. You just turned your fixie into a lightbike, friendo. What does that do? Does it blow your mind? So yea, you cut your friends off just like in the arcade. Only this time? It's personal.
Info: http://www.we-make-money-not-art.com/archives/2005/01/the-gps-applica.php
Friday, June 4, 2010
He Really Was A Weenie.
I've been compiling a list. Behind every good movie, there is a good villain. Behind every great movie, there is a magnificent douche. I have been asking my friends who they consider to be the greatest douche bags in film history. Thank you guys for all the input, this is the list I (we) have come up with.
Gaston -- Beauty and the Beast
On the surface, Gaston's a jock and a bully. He's an animal. But the source of Gaston's sleaziness runs deeper. He is as catty and conniving as a 14 year old girl. He is a hater and a tool. It is easy to see the the foil in Beast. Beast has all the worst physical attributes (hair) and all the finest personality traits (honor, loyalty, selflessness); Gaston is a 10 but has the temper of a petulant child, the sense of humor of a wet rag, and a penchant for hurting people, animals, and barrels of beer. His love for Belle is twisted and disrespectful. It is merely an obsession: he sees her as a prize, an award to be won to further attest to his perfection. He bites people in wrestling matches. What a giant douche nozzle.
Bill Lumbergh -- Office Space
Bill Lumbergh is a very basic douche. It is hard to describe why he is so easily despised. It is such a natural reaction; it almost needs no explanation. Every word he says is a grating piece of criticism or an asinine command disguised as friendly banter or an innocuous request. He has no respect for your intelligence. He thinks you freaking like him. He is so far removed from reality and humanity that he has no idea that your hatred for him grows with every waking moment. We've all had bosses like him. You know how it is dealing with one of those douchers.
Ernie McCracken -- Kingpin
In what is one of Bill Murray's greatest roles of all time and space, we find Ernie McCracken, a douche for the books. He is a two-bit, washed-up, combed-over pro bowler. Every move he makes is calculated to make you detest the very fiber of his being. It is clear that he is an absolute scumbag, but somehow he maintains an obscenely disproportionate ego for such a lowlife. He hits on women with all the skill and grace of a trucker; his opening line is often just the disclosure of his hotel room number. He is a poor sport and a sore loser. He is a backstabber with a shit-eating grin and a rose in his bowling ball. Bill Murray is so over the top, you can't help but die laughing at what a horrible douche Ernie McCracken is.
Prince Humperdinck -- The Princess Bride
The Princess Bride is probably my favorite movie of all time. I could talk about it all day. But, I will try to keep this short. Prince Humperdinck is--above all else--a coward. He is underhanded and ruthless. A man with crooked ambition but no guts, he hatches cheap schemes and pays criminals to do his bidding. He is afraid to get his hands dirty, but cannot sit idle and cope with his insane desire for power. Wesley serves as the antithesis of the Prince. In his quest as The Man in the Black Mask, Wesley struggles through trial after trial, testing himself and challenging everyone that stands in his way. Humperdinck is incapable of such bravery and unable to understand true love. His only pleasure is derived in the torture of his defenseless enemies. He is arrogant, but easily folds under the pressure of a real fight. I flip out every time Wesley's like "Drop...Your...Sword." Also, when Wesley stops Buttercup from committing suicide by pointing out the shortage of perfect breasts in the world? What a badass. Oh but yea, Humperdinck: Humperdouche.
Phillips -- The Sandlot
Phillips was such a dick. He was every kid that ever picked on you at the playground. His problem? He doesn't understand baseball. He thinks he does, but he doesn't. That's why he's so upset that Benny and Squints and Yeah-Yeah and all are playing ball. He sees their little rag-tag, scoreless, never-ending game as a disgrace. He picks on them because he is outraged that a bunch of misfits could be having so much fun playing a game that is such a sad excuse for baseball WHEN REALLY it's the purest form of baseball imaginable. His hubris and his disdain blow up in his goddamn face when he steps to Benny and the Sandlot kids. His team of crew-cut, permanent-press, uniformed douche bags turn out to play ball like a bunch of girls. They get clobbered and Phillips learns a lesson about playing for the love of the game. Kid's a square. L7....Weeeenie. Oscar Meyer even.
Uncle Frank -- Home Alone
I have wanted to slit Uncle Frank's throat from the moment I saw Home Alone when I was like 7. The fire behind his eyes makes no sense. His hatred for Kevin stems from a spill. The kid knocked over some Coke. Chill the fuck out. You're the jerk. I hate you.
Shooter McGavin -- Happy Gilmore
Adam Sandler is a master of the douche antagonist (see Eric Gordon in Billy Madison). In Happy Gilmore we meet a stuffy, smug son of a bitch name of "Shooter McGavin." Utterly a golfer. Such a douche. Happy livens up the PGA with some sweet new fans and his rad skills, but Shooter is not amused. He is a small-minded toolshed who likes being the big fish in the smarmy pond. He is two-faced coward (much like Humperdinck) and pays off petty criminals to deal with Happy. Shooter is an absolute asshole but his constant bewilderment and sheer horror at the sight of Happy's antics are straight hilarious. His inability to come up with a satisfactory comeback to "You eat pieces of shit for breakfast?" is almost endearing.
............."No."
Johnny Lawrence -- Karate Kid
"Get 'im a body bag, Johnny! YEAAAAA!" Johnny was all smash and grab in his Adidas tags. His karate was all sorts of wrong. He did not understand what to fight for, he only knew how. His jealousy and greed got the best of him. He beat up Daniel-san because it was easier that beating up his personal demons. Danny was a mack, he should have just accepted and respected that. Move on. But no, he had to hate. A true martial-artist would have never swept the leg. What goes around comes around, Johnny.
Gaston -- Beauty and the Beast
On the surface, Gaston's a jock and a bully. He's an animal. But the source of Gaston's sleaziness runs deeper. He is as catty and conniving as a 14 year old girl. He is a hater and a tool. It is easy to see the the foil in Beast. Beast has all the worst physical attributes (hair) and all the finest personality traits (honor, loyalty, selflessness); Gaston is a 10 but has the temper of a petulant child, the sense of humor of a wet rag, and a penchant for hurting people, animals, and barrels of beer. His love for Belle is twisted and disrespectful. It is merely an obsession: he sees her as a prize, an award to be won to further attest to his perfection. He bites people in wrestling matches. What a giant douche nozzle.
Bill Lumbergh -- Office Space
Bill Lumbergh is a very basic douche. It is hard to describe why he is so easily despised. It is such a natural reaction; it almost needs no explanation. Every word he says is a grating piece of criticism or an asinine command disguised as friendly banter or an innocuous request. He has no respect for your intelligence. He thinks you freaking like him. He is so far removed from reality and humanity that he has no idea that your hatred for him grows with every waking moment. We've all had bosses like him. You know how it is dealing with one of those douchers.
Ernie McCracken -- Kingpin
In what is one of Bill Murray's greatest roles of all time and space, we find Ernie McCracken, a douche for the books. He is a two-bit, washed-up, combed-over pro bowler. Every move he makes is calculated to make you detest the very fiber of his being. It is clear that he is an absolute scumbag, but somehow he maintains an obscenely disproportionate ego for such a lowlife. He hits on women with all the skill and grace of a trucker; his opening line is often just the disclosure of his hotel room number. He is a poor sport and a sore loser. He is a backstabber with a shit-eating grin and a rose in his bowling ball. Bill Murray is so over the top, you can't help but die laughing at what a horrible douche Ernie McCracken is.
Prince Humperdinck -- The Princess Bride
The Princess Bride is probably my favorite movie of all time. I could talk about it all day. But, I will try to keep this short. Prince Humperdinck is--above all else--a coward. He is underhanded and ruthless. A man with crooked ambition but no guts, he hatches cheap schemes and pays criminals to do his bidding. He is afraid to get his hands dirty, but cannot sit idle and cope with his insane desire for power. Wesley serves as the antithesis of the Prince. In his quest as The Man in the Black Mask, Wesley struggles through trial after trial, testing himself and challenging everyone that stands in his way. Humperdinck is incapable of such bravery and unable to understand true love. His only pleasure is derived in the torture of his defenseless enemies. He is arrogant, but easily folds under the pressure of a real fight. I flip out every time Wesley's like "Drop...Your...Sword." Also, when Wesley stops Buttercup from committing suicide by pointing out the shortage of perfect breasts in the world? What a badass. Oh but yea, Humperdinck: Humperdouche.
Phillips -- The Sandlot
Phillips was such a dick. He was every kid that ever picked on you at the playground. His problem? He doesn't understand baseball. He thinks he does, but he doesn't. That's why he's so upset that Benny and Squints and Yeah-Yeah and all are playing ball. He sees their little rag-tag, scoreless, never-ending game as a disgrace. He picks on them because he is outraged that a bunch of misfits could be having so much fun playing a game that is such a sad excuse for baseball WHEN REALLY it's the purest form of baseball imaginable. His hubris and his disdain blow up in his goddamn face when he steps to Benny and the Sandlot kids. His team of crew-cut, permanent-press, uniformed douche bags turn out to play ball like a bunch of girls. They get clobbered and Phillips learns a lesson about playing for the love of the game. Kid's a square. L7....Weeeenie. Oscar Meyer even.
Uncle Frank -- Home Alone
I have wanted to slit Uncle Frank's throat from the moment I saw Home Alone when I was like 7. The fire behind his eyes makes no sense. His hatred for Kevin stems from a spill. The kid knocked over some Coke. Chill the fuck out. You're the jerk. I hate you.
Shooter McGavin -- Happy Gilmore
Adam Sandler is a master of the douche antagonist (see Eric Gordon in Billy Madison). In Happy Gilmore we meet a stuffy, smug son of a bitch name of "Shooter McGavin." Utterly a golfer. Such a douche. Happy livens up the PGA with some sweet new fans and his rad skills, but Shooter is not amused. He is a small-minded toolshed who likes being the big fish in the smarmy pond. He is two-faced coward (much like Humperdinck) and pays off petty criminals to deal with Happy. Shooter is an absolute asshole but his constant bewilderment and sheer horror at the sight of Happy's antics are straight hilarious. His inability to come up with a satisfactory comeback to "You eat pieces of shit for breakfast?" is almost endearing.
............."No."
Johnny Lawrence -- Karate Kid
"Get 'im a body bag, Johnny! YEAAAAA!" Johnny was all smash and grab in his Adidas tags. His karate was all sorts of wrong. He did not understand what to fight for, he only knew how. His jealousy and greed got the best of him. He beat up Daniel-san because it was easier that beating up his personal demons. Danny was a mack, he should have just accepted and respected that. Move on. But no, he had to hate. A true martial-artist would have never swept the leg. What goes around comes around, Johnny.
Jack Renames the Planets
So, we hung out and played Kingdom Hearts last night. The game is amazing. But, I don't really feel like reviewing it. Just play it. If you don't know: it's a collision of the magical world of Walt Disney and the effeminate world of Final Fantasy. A darkness, not unlike The Nothing, has crept into the fabric of space and threatens to tear it apart--your normal world and every crazy magical world are in grave danger. But, what are you to do? You are just a nubile young boy, Sora, with an awkward crush on a nubile young girl, Kairi, and mixed emotions towards your nubile young frienemy, Riku. Don't even worry about it; you're the fucking "key," man. You're destined to own that poseur Nothing wannabe and send it packing back to whatever creeper dimension is crawled out of. The game's very freaky. Also, the theme song ("Simple and Clean") is hilariously adorable. Fighting alongside Disney heroes affords you the chance to totally geek out. Running around levels based in classic animated Disney joints like "Alice in Wonderland," "The Little Mermaid," and "Peter Pan" while smashing little smoke monsters called "heartless" to bits with a "keyblade" is one part nostalgic, two parts superb. Bashing in villain's heads that you've hated since you were seven? Very satisfying.
The major thing I wanted to write about is this: The Dalmatians. Like the poes in Zelda, you can search for the 101 Dalmatians scattered throughout the universe in Kingdom Hearts. Don't ask me how they got scattered. It probably has something to do with the heartless and evil forces and tearing the universe apart. Whatever. I just hit things with the keyblade and never look back. So anyway, we didn't get far enough to find any of the dalmatians (Pongo and Perdita don't count, by the way. They're just hanging out in Traverse Town.) But I was trying to remember...do they just go like, "You've found: DALMATIAN #07!" or are there names? (p.s. I would settle for "Dalmatian get!")
After 15 grueling seconds of googling "101 dalmatian names" I found out this little tidbit from WikiAnswers:
Whoa. Are you serious? The writers couldn't take like 5 mins and spin out like 80 more names? Such neglect. But hey, that's just more fictional puppies for me to name. Here's what they're really called.
101 Dalmatians:
1. Pongo
2. Perdita
3. Slippy
4. Slappy
5. Swami
6. Samsonite
7. Thick McLargeHuge
8. Snaggletooth
9. Rover
10. Winks
11. Revenge
12. Flapjack
13. Mapelthorpe
14. Bullet
15. Petunia
16. Aloysius
17. Frankenstein
18. George Jefferson
19. Tony
20. Rasputin
21. Bartholomeus
22. Tank
23. Squiggly
24. Parsimony
25. Felix
26. Quickdraw
27. Scrunchy
28. Firestarter
29. Walden
30. Charlie
31. Blizzard
32. Shakedown
33. Flip
34. Padlock
35. Victor
36. Xander
37. Jazz
38. Danger
39. Swifty
40. Hamhawk
41. Laika 2
42. Skull
43. Sundance
44. Ichiban
45. Sonic
46. Rico
47. Vega
48. Bugsy
49. Wilco
50. Dizzy
51. Francine
52. Dymphna
53. Bumpus
54. Kit
55. Walker
56. Fabienne
57. Max
58. Misty
59. Rex
60. Spot
61. Maggie
62. Murdoch
63. Nook
64. Norbert
65. Odin
66. Bowser
67. Gusto
68. Tricksy
69. Zoe
70. Kim
71. Yvette
72. Pinky
73. Tom
74. Dash
75. Zipper
76. Barney
77. Art
78. Sidekick
79. Slidetackle
80. Who
81. I Don't Know
82. Squeak
83. Cannon
84. Pen
85. Grey
86. Sparks
87. Lux
88. Siobhán
89. Magnus
90. Gander
91. Tyler
92. Kyler
93. Skyler
94. Pizza
95. Florence
96. Dot
97. Slinky
98. Jumbo
99. Even
100. Claire
101. Falstaff
Yeah, man. I rock at naming things. I feel like Spot and Dot would hang out all the time: being all cute. Firestarter and Blizzard would always pick on Squeak. Pizza would just eat everything. These dogs needed names. Now there's a back story. You know what's going on in other parts of Pongo and Perdita's life when Cruella deVille isn't trying skin them alive or whatever she tries to do to them. Ok, you need to watch this now. Peace.
The major thing I wanted to write about is this: The Dalmatians. Like the poes in Zelda, you can search for the 101 Dalmatians scattered throughout the universe in Kingdom Hearts. Don't ask me how they got scattered. It probably has something to do with the heartless and evil forces and tearing the universe apart. Whatever. I just hit things with the keyblade and never look back. So anyway, we didn't get far enough to find any of the dalmatians (Pongo and Perdita don't count, by the way. They're just hanging out in Traverse Town.) But I was trying to remember...do they just go like, "You've found: DALMATIAN #07!" or are there names? (p.s. I would settle for "Dalmatian get!")
After 15 grueling seconds of googling "101 dalmatian names" I found out this little tidbit from WikiAnswers:
Not all of the puppies were named in the Disney animated film. Other than Pongo and Perdita (the parents), some of the named puppies were Lucky, Thunder, Rolly, Patch, Pepper, Dipstick, Penny, Cadpig, Freckles, Purdy, Wizzer, Jewel, Two-Tone, Fidget, and Spotty.
Whoa. Are you serious? The writers couldn't take like 5 mins and spin out like 80 more names? Such neglect. But hey, that's just more fictional puppies for me to name. Here's what they're really called.
101 Dalmatians:
1. Pongo
2. Perdita
3. Slippy
4. Slappy
5. Swami
6. Samsonite
7. Thick McLargeHuge
8. Snaggletooth
9. Rover
10. Winks
11. Revenge
12. Flapjack
13. Mapelthorpe
14. Bullet
15. Petunia
16. Aloysius
17. Frankenstein
18. George Jefferson
19. Tony
20. Rasputin
21. Bartholomeus
22. Tank
23. Squiggly
24. Parsimony
25. Felix
26. Quickdraw
27. Scrunchy
28. Firestarter
29. Walden
30. Charlie
31. Blizzard
32. Shakedown
33. Flip
34. Padlock
35. Victor
36. Xander
37. Jazz
38. Danger
39. Swifty
40. Hamhawk
41. Laika 2
42. Skull
43. Sundance
44. Ichiban
45. Sonic
46. Rico
47. Vega
48. Bugsy
49. Wilco
50. Dizzy
51. Francine
52. Dymphna
53. Bumpus
54. Kit
55. Walker
56. Fabienne
57. Max
58. Misty
59. Rex
60. Spot
61. Maggie
62. Murdoch
63. Nook
64. Norbert
65. Odin
66. Bowser
67. Gusto
68. Tricksy
69. Zoe
70. Kim
71. Yvette
72. Pinky
73. Tom
74. Dash
75. Zipper
76. Barney
77. Art
78. Sidekick
79. Slidetackle
80. Who
81. I Don't Know
82. Squeak
83. Cannon
84. Pen
85. Grey
86. Sparks
87. Lux
88. Siobhán
89. Magnus
90. Gander
91. Tyler
92. Kyler
93. Skyler
94. Pizza
95. Florence
96. Dot
97. Slinky
98. Jumbo
99. Even
100. Claire
101. Falstaff
Yeah, man. I rock at naming things. I feel like Spot and Dot would hang out all the time: being all cute. Firestarter and Blizzard would always pick on Squeak. Pizza would just eat everything. These dogs needed names. Now there's a back story. You know what's going on in other parts of Pongo and Perdita's life when Cruella deVille isn't trying skin them alive or whatever she tries to do to them. Ok, you need to watch this now. Peace.
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