Given the penchant of the powers that be to race to make movies about 'interesting' real life events, whoever makes the "Miracle on the Hudson" movie is going to be hard pressed to attract viewers.
It's like the dumb ass Valkerie Bertinelli movie with Tom Cruise. Everyone knows how it ends, and without Kate Winslet to lie there nude, who cares about history?
All they can do to try to make "Miracle on the Hudson" interesting is to fictionalize what was going on in the lives of some of the crew and passengers. I don't think they dare make up anything about "Sully" other than to perhaps suggest that he had to go back into the cockpit one last time to retrieve the St. Joseph's bobble head doll he always taped to the yoke. (steering wheel, to the rest of you.)
Screen writers are good at making interesting movies 'based on a true story.' So we can expect a lot of drama in the personal lives of enough crew and passengers so that the eight minutes the actual miracle took can be fortified with 90 minutes of flash back and 10 minutes of expository resolutions. Or they can decide to go with the Al Qeada geese angle.
But really, having "Sully" played by Angelina Jolie, nude, would really, really help.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Rubber Bands, the Real Renewable Energy Source...
Yes, the humble rubber band, known to all of us, is a safe, reliable source of renewable energy. But there is a vast, two wing and all the tail feathers, conspiracy devoted to keeping this knowledge from public promulgation.
Back when I was a kid, even with old fashioned rubber bands, I was able to get almost 60 seconds of powered flight from my rubber-band powered airplane. Think where we could be today if research had not been stifled!
And why do the powers that be stifle rubber-band technology? For the same reason they scuttled the development of the moter that burned ordinary air for fuel. Of course the air-burning engine is a lot more complex than rubber band technology... Almost as complex as the static electric motor.
Had the vast oil-wing conspiracy not put the kibosh on rubber band technology, it could have been that by now home heating, public transportation, electrical production, and a host of other applications would now all be run on rubber band power!
Especially with so many more people in prison, who could spend their days winding rubber bands for use in civilian life. Talk about a renewable resource!! Plus you could convert wind and water power to winding rubber bands! The use of infinitely renewable rubber band power is only limited by the imagination! Here's a list, just off the top of my head, of personal use items that could be switched to rubber band power from electrical battery power... The savings would be enormous!
digital still and movie cameras
cell phones, PDAs, lap tops
vibrators
flashlights
golf carts
mopeds
pace makers
Please, just a small statue of me, commemorating my discovery of the female bosom...
Back when I was a kid, even with old fashioned rubber bands, I was able to get almost 60 seconds of powered flight from my rubber-band powered airplane. Think where we could be today if research had not been stifled!
And why do the powers that be stifle rubber-band technology? For the same reason they scuttled the development of the moter that burned ordinary air for fuel. Of course the air-burning engine is a lot more complex than rubber band technology... Almost as complex as the static electric motor.
Had the vast oil-wing conspiracy not put the kibosh on rubber band technology, it could have been that by now home heating, public transportation, electrical production, and a host of other applications would now all be run on rubber band power!
Especially with so many more people in prison, who could spend their days winding rubber bands for use in civilian life. Talk about a renewable resource!! Plus you could convert wind and water power to winding rubber bands! The use of infinitely renewable rubber band power is only limited by the imagination! Here's a list, just off the top of my head, of personal use items that could be switched to rubber band power from electrical battery power... The savings would be enormous!
digital still and movie cameras
cell phones, PDAs, lap tops
vibrators
flashlights
golf carts
mopeds
pace makers
Please, just a small statue of me, commemorating my discovery of the female bosom...
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
A Christian Religion Stopped to say Hello
That's the nice thing about some of the Christian Religions, they're friendly.
And is there anything more entertaining than talking to someone who isn't listening to what you're saying, but rather waiting for you to shut up so they can tell you that you're THIS CLOSE to being saved?
It would really be great if the Scientologists went two by two out into the world to preach the word of L. Ron Hubbard. Or stood in parking lots or by busy intersections handing out autographed photos of Xenu and maps of where their churches are...
Hey, where are their churches and what's at the top of their steeples?
And is there anything more entertaining than talking to someone who isn't listening to what you're saying, but rather waiting for you to shut up so they can tell you that you're THIS CLOSE to being saved?
It would really be great if the Scientologists went two by two out into the world to preach the word of L. Ron Hubbard. Or stood in parking lots or by busy intersections handing out autographed photos of Xenu and maps of where their churches are...
Hey, where are their churches and what's at the top of their steeples?
Intent & Intentions
You know how it's said that most of the games men play are substitutes for war? No reason to doubt this, is there? And the intent in war is to win battles, and ultimately to cause the utter defeat of the enemy, drink his blood and date his little sister.
Except for Golf. Sure, golf has winners and losers, but which one you'll be on any given day is always up in the air. There's no finality to the competition. As soon as one round ends, you're arranging the next round. And the competition is actually 'rigged' so as to make it harder for the better of two players to beat the lesser player. It's called the handicap system. It's like if you can run the 400 meters twice as fast as I can, I get to start the race at the 200 meter point. That's obviously not how we run a good war!
Even the rules of golf are designed to remove unintended actions from effecting the outcome. And in the heat of what pitched battle would you expect your opponent to always tell the truth and to call penalties on himself? Yep, just golf.
This post has no hidden meaning or agenda. It's simply in praise of mankind finally finding someway to express his competitive nature in a fashion that is not in similitude to our species' endless wars.
But by no means does should this be construed to mean that a man who does NOT cheat at golf will not cheat in other aspects of his life.
You've been warned.
Thank you and good night.
Except for Golf. Sure, golf has winners and losers, but which one you'll be on any given day is always up in the air. There's no finality to the competition. As soon as one round ends, you're arranging the next round. And the competition is actually 'rigged' so as to make it harder for the better of two players to beat the lesser player. It's called the handicap system. It's like if you can run the 400 meters twice as fast as I can, I get to start the race at the 200 meter point. That's obviously not how we run a good war!
Even the rules of golf are designed to remove unintended actions from effecting the outcome. And in the heat of what pitched battle would you expect your opponent to always tell the truth and to call penalties on himself? Yep, just golf.
This post has no hidden meaning or agenda. It's simply in praise of mankind finally finding someway to express his competitive nature in a fashion that is not in similitude to our species' endless wars.
But by no means does should this be construed to mean that a man who does NOT cheat at golf will not cheat in other aspects of his life.
You've been warned.
Thank you and good night.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Bleeding for Bullets
See? That got your attention! You might watch my new show by this title!
What, you don't like it?
So, how about we call it "Halitosis and the Crotch of Life"?
Edgy, huh?
It'll probably help if I tell you what the new show is about. Remember, when the network called me, all they said was that I had to have it done by the afternoon, or at the latest, the next afternoon, or evening. They're awfully tough when it comes to laying down the law. The only content restriction was that no kids could be in it because kids cause too much trouble and puberty is a bitch.
So I finally came up with a storyline about an asthmatic Royal Pikeman who returns home to Donkeyshire to find a wife, but he can't seem to get his laptop to log onto the internet, and so his initial plan, to advertise on craigslist, is thwarted and so he visits a bar.
How about "Well, Stick me for Bleedin' Hump"?
What, you don't like it?
So, how about we call it "Halitosis and the Crotch of Life"?
Edgy, huh?
It'll probably help if I tell you what the new show is about. Remember, when the network called me, all they said was that I had to have it done by the afternoon, or at the latest, the next afternoon, or evening. They're awfully tough when it comes to laying down the law. The only content restriction was that no kids could be in it because kids cause too much trouble and puberty is a bitch.
So I finally came up with a storyline about an asthmatic Royal Pikeman who returns home to Donkeyshire to find a wife, but he can't seem to get his laptop to log onto the internet, and so his initial plan, to advertise on craigslist, is thwarted and so he visits a bar.
How about "Well, Stick me for Bleedin' Hump"?
Friday, January 09, 2009
Grosse Pointe Blanke, Ae Greate Filme
I only remember that Grosse Pointe Blank is my most favorite Movie of the moment when I'm watching it. I'm like that with women, dogs, sports teams and currency... and women.
What appeals to me, besides the gratuitous violence and sadism, is the reaffirmation that ... 'you can never go home again.' Well, I can't, but my kids have no problems with it, because we don't have locks on the back door.
John Cusack plays Martin Blank, who leaves Minnie Driver (you should always have a spare minnie driver in your golf bag) in the lurch the night of the Senior Prom to run off and join the army where, big surprise, his lack of a moral foundation allows them to train him as a killer, for use by the CIA. After serving his hitch, he civilianizes himself and becomes a private practice hired killer. This makes perfect sense because as a soldier he probably was only making a sergeant's monthly pay for killing people (sure, plus room & board, but still...), while in private practice you've got to figure five figures for each hit. (And it's never clear in the movie how much of his income is taxed. He'd want to declare the minimum so that he'd get some Social Security money later.)
In the meantime, Minnie got married and divorced and is back home at the same house where Martin Blank stood her up on Prom Night. (Her apartment building burned...) And she's a DJ and it's at her radio station where Martin walks back into her life. From this viewer's perspective, they did a great job of portraying this squiffy situation. Remember when you walked back into the life of someone who ten years earlier you were intensely involved with, but suddenly disappeared with no explanation? Yeah, it was just like that!
The back story has one loner assassin, a two man assassin team, and a five man assassin team all gunning for him, as Martin is supposed to be doing a job right there in Grosse Pointe. Only he's so preoccupied with Minnie Driver and his life (as evidenced by his interactions with Alan Arkin as his psychiatrist, that he never opens the assassination assignment file until after the ten year Reunion at the high school, where Martin finds a ten year old mj joint he hid in his locker just before getting into a scuffle with the loner assassin and killing him with a pen one of his classmates had just given him, in case Martin ever needed a lawyer. Minnie Driver pops into the scene just at Martin is withdrawing the pen from the loner assassin's carotid artery, and wouldn't you know it, she forms the wrong impression! Women!
The loner assassin's body is wrapped up in a pep banner and an old school buddy, now in real estate, helps Martin carry the body down to the school furnace, while 99 lufteballon is throbbing in the background. Then the two buddies have a drink and promise (meaninglessly) to stay in touch.
Now thoroughly bummed out, Martin goes back to his motel room and early the next morning finally gets around to opening the assignment file. OMG! The intended target is Minnie Driver's dad! Holy Bats, Shitman!
Martin rushes over and foils the planned while-the-target-is-out-jogging attempt and he and his future F-i-L skidaddle back home, followed by the duo & team assassins. Martin suddenly begins opening up to Minnie emotionally (knowing that this heart-on-his-sleeve approach as he's gunning down men who want to kill her father is bound to soften her flinty heart) and while she initially appears unaffected, after he finishes killing seven men for daddy, she caves in and agrees to marry him. Her father, selfishly dazzled by Martin's life saving prowess, spontaneously announces that Martin has his blessing, while still hunkered down in the bathtub where he was hiding.
There's a jump cut from that scene to the young couple, apparently that same afternoon, riding out of town in Minnie Driver's convertible. Hard to believe since I counted over 400 rounds of ammunition busily making swiss cheese of the five dead bodies and the fine paneling, crown molding, hardwood floors and double pane windows of the Driver residence. One has to imagine that the police would at some point want to do a one or two page report for their files.
The essence of the movie, beside you can't go home again, is that life, under a very malleable set of various and sundry circumstances, which only the experiencer can judge, is worth living. (The downer obverse is that sometimes you have to let people decide that life isn't worth living. A corollary is that sometimes someone else being alive makes your life not worth living, from which three paths extend, die, kill or do nothing. This would make a good musical!)
About 16 minutes after I hit 'publish post' I'll forget about Grosse Pointe Blank, but eventually I'll see it or one of my other two all time favorites. If it's one of the other two, Thief or Let It Ride, I'll be sure to tell you all about it.
What appeals to me, besides the gratuitous violence and sadism, is the reaffirmation that ... 'you can never go home again.' Well, I can't, but my kids have no problems with it, because we don't have locks on the back door.
John Cusack plays Martin Blank, who leaves Minnie Driver (you should always have a spare minnie driver in your golf bag) in the lurch the night of the Senior Prom to run off and join the army where, big surprise, his lack of a moral foundation allows them to train him as a killer, for use by the CIA. After serving his hitch, he civilianizes himself and becomes a private practice hired killer. This makes perfect sense because as a soldier he probably was only making a sergeant's monthly pay for killing people (sure, plus room & board, but still...), while in private practice you've got to figure five figures for each hit. (And it's never clear in the movie how much of his income is taxed. He'd want to declare the minimum so that he'd get some Social Security money later.)
In the meantime, Minnie got married and divorced and is back home at the same house where Martin Blank stood her up on Prom Night. (Her apartment building burned...) And she's a DJ and it's at her radio station where Martin walks back into her life. From this viewer's perspective, they did a great job of portraying this squiffy situation. Remember when you walked back into the life of someone who ten years earlier you were intensely involved with, but suddenly disappeared with no explanation? Yeah, it was just like that!
The back story has one loner assassin, a two man assassin team, and a five man assassin team all gunning for him, as Martin is supposed to be doing a job right there in Grosse Pointe. Only he's so preoccupied with Minnie Driver and his life (as evidenced by his interactions with Alan Arkin as his psychiatrist, that he never opens the assassination assignment file until after the ten year Reunion at the high school, where Martin finds a ten year old mj joint he hid in his locker just before getting into a scuffle with the loner assassin and killing him with a pen one of his classmates had just given him, in case Martin ever needed a lawyer. Minnie Driver pops into the scene just at Martin is withdrawing the pen from the loner assassin's carotid artery, and wouldn't you know it, she forms the wrong impression! Women!
The loner assassin's body is wrapped up in a pep banner and an old school buddy, now in real estate, helps Martin carry the body down to the school furnace, while 99 lufteballon is throbbing in the background. Then the two buddies have a drink and promise (meaninglessly) to stay in touch.
Now thoroughly bummed out, Martin goes back to his motel room and early the next morning finally gets around to opening the assignment file. OMG! The intended target is Minnie Driver's dad! Holy Bats, Shitman!
Martin rushes over and foils the planned while-the-target-is-out-jogging attempt and he and his future F-i-L skidaddle back home, followed by the duo & team assassins. Martin suddenly begins opening up to Minnie emotionally (knowing that this heart-on-his-sleeve approach as he's gunning down men who want to kill her father is bound to soften her flinty heart) and while she initially appears unaffected, after he finishes killing seven men for daddy, she caves in and agrees to marry him. Her father, selfishly dazzled by Martin's life saving prowess, spontaneously announces that Martin has his blessing, while still hunkered down in the bathtub where he was hiding.
There's a jump cut from that scene to the young couple, apparently that same afternoon, riding out of town in Minnie Driver's convertible. Hard to believe since I counted over 400 rounds of ammunition busily making swiss cheese of the five dead bodies and the fine paneling, crown molding, hardwood floors and double pane windows of the Driver residence. One has to imagine that the police would at some point want to do a one or two page report for their files.
The essence of the movie, beside you can't go home again, is that life, under a very malleable set of various and sundry circumstances, which only the experiencer can judge, is worth living. (The downer obverse is that sometimes you have to let people decide that life isn't worth living. A corollary is that sometimes someone else being alive makes your life not worth living, from which three paths extend, die, kill or do nothing. This would make a good musical!)
About 16 minutes after I hit 'publish post' I'll forget about Grosse Pointe Blank, but eventually I'll see it or one of my other two all time favorites. If it's one of the other two, Thief or Let It Ride, I'll be sure to tell you all about it.
More fun with words!
Most and mostly are used in our vocabulary as limiters, so we don't sound all paranoid or fanatical. Such as, "I enjoy sex most of the time" and, "I mostly don't pay for sex."
Most and mostly are important words in getting across the point that one is reasonable and open minded.
But in playing with words, I've found that one can substitute 'moist' and 'moistly' for the correct words and still make enough sense so that humor is evoked. And as the oldest, longest practitioner (prictitioner!) of Laztheism, I know how important humor is.
Here are some examples:
Sex is great for the moist part!
Moistly sex is fun.
I masturbate alone, moistly.
I hope my readers will moistly join in!
Most and mostly are important words in getting across the point that one is reasonable and open minded.
But in playing with words, I've found that one can substitute 'moist' and 'moistly' for the correct words and still make enough sense so that humor is evoked. And as the oldest, longest practitioner (prictitioner!) of Laztheism, I know how important humor is.
Here are some examples:
Sex is great for the moist part!
Moistly sex is fun.
I masturbate alone, moistly.
I hope my readers will moistly join in!
Monday, January 05, 2009
New Tricks for New Times
Whilst admitting to being an old dog, I am delighted to announce that I've learned a new trick!
Curb sign painting has taken a terrible tumble as a viable career in this newly minted era of economic parsimony. So it behooved me to do something with my free time, on those days when no golf was scheduled. (Saturdays & Wednesday for certain, other days optional.)
So I looked around for something my talents were suited for and was pleasantly surprised to find work readily available in the field I actually took my degree in: my BA in Advertising & Public Relations!
The really cool thing is that this is part time employment and I can work it around whatever my real work schedule. Plus they hired me as an independent contractor and they pay me in cash. They asked me for my 1099 information and I gave them totally bogus information. I told the guy, with a perfectly straight face, that my name was Hilary Edmundsir, and he just asked me how to spell it and that was it!
So I'm still outdoors, being the people-person that I am(ham), spreading my gospel of smiles and lies for all the people who flash by my intersection. And once I get an mp3 player, I can even learn to shake my booty!
Curb sign painting has taken a terrible tumble as a viable career in this newly minted era of economic parsimony. So it behooved me to do something with my free time, on those days when no golf was scheduled. (Saturdays & Wednesday for certain, other days optional.)
So I looked around for something my talents were suited for and was pleasantly surprised to find work readily available in the field I actually took my degree in: my BA in Advertising & Public Relations!
The really cool thing is that this is part time employment and I can work it around whatever my real work schedule. Plus they hired me as an independent contractor and they pay me in cash. They asked me for my 1099 information and I gave them totally bogus information. I told the guy, with a perfectly straight face, that my name was Hilary Edmundsir, and he just asked me how to spell it and that was it!
So I'm still outdoors, being the people-person that I am(ham), spreading my gospel of smiles and lies for all the people who flash by my intersection. And once I get an mp3 player, I can even learn to shake my booty!
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