Ain't What It's Cracked Up To Be

The movie HERCULES is set to release this Friday, July 25th, and it will most likely be a tremendous blockbuster hit.  I really hope it is, as it's star, Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson, deserves much success.  Other than reading the odd article on Johnson's incredible workout regiment and dedicated diet in preparation for the film, I knew very little about the film.  Moments ago, before settling down to type out this blog, I finished watching a two-minute trailer that a friend posted up on Facebook.  Sadly, the trailer leaves much to speculation, story-wise, but this may be a good thing as most modern day movie trailers are guilty of showing all the good parts in the trailer and leaving the rest of the movie as empty filler, like discarded packing peanuts.  What I did gain from the HERCULES movie trailer, however, is that there's going to be much comic-relief -- which will most likely become tedious and annoying -- and many gratuitous fight sequences.

Another point stressed in the film's trailer was a strong emphasis on the superhuman strength possessed by the man known as Hercules.  An attribute as his mother is a common human, but his father is the great and powerful Zeus.  The fabled stories would have you believe that Hercules would possess the strength of ten men, a trait I believe will be multiplied ten-fold by Hollywood, and judging from Dwayne Johnson' incredible physique, may not be too far off the mark...

This claim of incredible prowess got me to thinking.  Percy Jackson's father is the Greek God, Poseidon.  It's a given that Poseidon may not be as powerful as Zeus, but the two were brothers, so that ought to mean something.  Therefore, shouldn't Percy Jackson possess the same physical strength as his cousin, Hercules?  Or at the very least, a fraction of his perceived strength?  I would imagine having the strength of even just five men would come in handy for some of his adventures, but instead, he's left with being clever and his two close friends.

Speaking of the offspring of the gods.  Shouldn't the biggest name on the list, J.C., himself have possessed some kind of superior ability?  Exceptional strength or an increased ability of any sort?  From what I've gathered throughout time is that Jesus Christ had the gift of gab.  An elevated ability to charm the weak-minded folks around him into believing the hogwash he was spouting.  A kind of super-power, I suppose, but one that differs from the old Snake Oil salesman from the early 20th century.  However, like those spinning wondrous tales of make-believe, the consequences of his yarns eventually caught up to him and he was hung out on the cross.  I bet he would've liked to have had the strength of ten men on that day.

I guess when it's all said and done; Being the son of a God, ain't all what it's cracked up to be.

Bill Cosby is an Asshole

Yesterday, July 17th, 2014, was a crazy day for me.  I had an appointment I needed to attend at 8am, clear across town, and I guess the anticipation of not wanting to miss that appointment prevented me from sleeping beyond 4am.

The appointment breezed by, ending about twenty minutes after it started.  I'd made arrangements to hang out with a friend who lived close by, but he wouldn't be available until after eleven o'clock, so I had a lot of time to waste in the meantime.  It was a lot of bumming around the nearby Wal-Mart.  Those who follow me on Twitter, would've seen some of the pictures I took of my "adventures".

Eventually, my friend D__ came home and we hung out, with his kids, for a little while, before the long hours of being awake, finally caught up to me and I was fighting the urge to fall asleep.  Sadly, I tapped out, admitting defeat and departed, opting to return home and go to sleep.  And go to sleep, I did.

I laid down on the sofa, with my cat, and together we slept for about four hours.  Then I got up, ate some soup, because it's a quick and easy meal to prepare; Open, pour, microwave, eat!  Then I laid down, once more on the sofa, with Monkey, my cat, close by. Slept for another three and a half, maybe four hours. Woke up, raced to Safeway to buy cereal, which had been sold out 7 days in a row. (FYI, DON'T shop at Safeway, they SUCK!!)  I returned home, just in time, as torrential rain and violent lightning began thundering above the house, moments after my front door closed.  So I went to bed.  Nothing else to do.

I slept nicely throughout the night, being awoken only once, around 6am to the sounds of my cat hacking up what I presumed was a hairball, but turned out to be only food that he wolfed down in some sort of imaginary race.  I shot him with a water bottle I keep nearby and went back to sleep.  (It's amazing how tired I am, considering I haven't worked in a month and a half.)

Around 9:30am, I awoke to the oddest thing I've ever had pop into my head, causing me to awaken abruptly.  The words "LISA BONET DIED ON THE OPERATING TABLE"!!! I hadn't watched any sort of television sensationalism gossip programming, especially anything as asinine as Entertainment Tonight or their equivalencies.  I've not seen anything pertaining to Lisa Bonet's questionable acting talent in (literally) decades, not since her "riveting" performance in "Angel Heart". 

Stunned at this news, I rose to check out her breathing status on IMDb.com, only to learn that the actress is the latest recipient of the famed DEATH HOAX.  Apparently, whilst I was unconscious on my sofa for most of July 17th, Lisa Bonet's publicist was fighting off and denying allegations of the actress's untimely demise.

So rest assured, everyone.  It is only Lisa Bonet's career that is dead and it's been dormant for decades, I suspect because of that asshole, Bill Cosby, who claimed she was unprofessional for doing nude scenes in the afore mentioned Angel Heart and for an alleged "unprofessional attitude".  Speaking honestly, though, if I had to work with a dick like Bill Cosby, I'd be unprofessional too.

LISA BONET is ALIVE AND WELL.  Looking at her picture, it's apparent that despite still having a rockin' body, she's not aging very well.  The grey hair is a real turn-off. 

A Flood of Tears for the Posthumously Missed

Q:  Do I wanna see the new Russell Crowe movie?!?

A: NOAH!!!

My reasoning for not wanting to see this movie, stems (in part) from the commercial for the film on television. Crowe warns to his family, "There's a storm coming and there's nothing we can do to stop it!!!"  This statement implies that somewhere sometime, people were or will be able to stop rainstorms from coming.  That's f*cking retarded.  If movies didn't cost so much to see in the theater, I'd almost want to pay to see it, just to pick it apart.  Perhaps this would be better subject matter for Doug Benson's "Movie Interruption".

I made this claim at work today, stating that I didn't want to see the film because of this ridiculous warning from the Noah character, to which I was met with an equally retarded reply.  "That's alright." a workmate replied, "The movie is historically inaccurate, anyway."

There was a  great and silent pause following this accusation.  I realize that I work with a lot (and I do mean A LOT) of religious people, but in this day and age, in the year 2014, for someone to believe whole-heartedly that the bible is an accurate history book, blows my f*cking mind.  This is just plain preposterous to me.  So much so, that the only response I could muster up through the bewildered look plastered upon my face, was a low-toned, "What?"

"The movie is historically inaccurate." the man begun.  I cracked a smile, but I saw that he was serious, so I bit my tongue in an effort to avoid laughter.  "From the size of the boat, to his sons wives and.., blah blah blah."  He continued to point out the movies flaws, having not seen it, I might add.  I chose, however, to tune him out to avoid breaking out in a boisterous laugh.  I'm not one who is religious.  Like I said before, in this day and age.., I find it difficult to understand why so many people put so much of their faith in a book that reads like a book of fables.  With all the advancements in science and technology, people still believe that an invisible man in the clouds created all that we see.  Bullshit!!!  But, some folks need a crutch for when all logic escapes them.  So whatever...  Not for me to pass judgement, although it reads like I am.

So to make light of the heavy situation, I interrupted by adding, "And how do they expect us to believe that two of EVERY SPECIES on the planet, conglomerated at that one meeting spot and ALL fit on this boat?  Then they expect us to believe that the animals all cohabitated without incident.  The carnivores never fed on the smaller animals?"  I was dumbfounded, once more with his response.  "Oh no!  That part of the story is true." Again, I found myself bewildered by the statement and able to only muster up a one-word response, preceded only by a deep groan, "Uhhhh... What?!?"

"All the animals that exist today are cross-bred in one way or another.  That part is true.  What isn't true is all the little details.  Hollywood has a way of changing things up just to make a buck.  Hollywood would never put out a historically accurate movie about Noah or any of the bible stories."

By this time, the whistle blew, ending our coffee break.  Everyone filed out of the break room, leaving me alone to replay the conversation in my mind.  It was at that point I knew I had to address this retardation.  Later I joked about it with another workmate and it was through those comments, I knew I had fuel for this fire, but I needed an angle.

"They [Noah] got two of every animal, but they never got Unicorns." my workmate, C___ joked.  I thought about that for a second, and realized.  Yeah!  Noah was able to get two of every animal on the planet, including a male and a female Sasquatch, yet they couldn't fit two Unicorns on-board.  Then I realized what had actually happened.  It's clarity overcame my ever waking thoughts and for me to deprive these thoughts from the masses would most certainly be a crime against humanity.  A crime of such magnitude that it equates the crime that Noah and his family bestowed upon all of mankind for the centuries that would follow.

As the rains poured down and impending doom was facing our heroes who were corralling all of "God's creatures" upon this mighty wooden vessel, the last to board were the Unicorns.  Alas, however, in his complex calculations (which apparently have nothing to do with science and mathematics, but of God's divine will), shelter was not provided to the Unicorns.  Noah's family, not knowing how long they would be floating about on the S.S. Ark, ate the Unicorn.  It's as simple as that.

Even in the time of the "big flood", people knew that when they ate corn, that corn came out in their shit, fully intact.  Unicorn has the word CORN right in it.  Putting two and two together, these simple-minded people, thought that if they ate the unicorn, that they could shit out a fully intact unicorn.  Kind of like the Jesus-bread, where they were able to feed the starving masses with a single loaf of bread.  Retarded, yes, "but it's the bible, so it's historically accurate," I type tongue-in-cheek.

Not to mention the Unicorn's single horn, mounted proudly upon their brow, was (at the time) a known aphrodisiac, and if Noah and his family were to re-inhabit the Earth, they were going to need every ounce of help they could muster to keep themselves in the mood.  There was going to be a need for a whole lot of sexy time.  Not to mention that after forty days and forty nights on an ark, surrounded by (nearly) every animal on the planet, neither man or woman was going to appear (or smell) very appealing.  Hell, I've seen people's looks fade after a long weekend camping trip.  Yech!!!

Noah (allegedly) saved the plight of the platypus, the elephant seal, and even the fabled Sasquatch/Yeti, but ate the f*cking unicorns.  Will this aspect of the great flood story be depicted in the new Russell Crowe movie?  F*CK NO!!!  Haven't you heard?  The movie is historically inaccurate. 

RoboCop 2014

I attended a matinee showing of the new RoboCop movie yesterday afternoon.  There's been a lot of speculation surrounding the newest edition to the franchise.  Many die hard fans are questioning why the classic movie needed a reboot.  Why is the new RoboCop black, instead of the classic grey of the original?  Many superficial queries like this, most of which are unfounded and based on theory and not on actual experience from watching the motion picture itself.  I read several reviews made by private citizens on the website where I got my show times from, many of which contained the information that they had not yet seen the movie.  I question the validity of such remarks and inquire how it is that people believe they can make an educated review on a motion picture that (at the time) had not yet been released?  Furthermore, I wonder how anyone would derive any value from these reviews based on speculation, rather than based on witnessing the film first hand?

Admittedly, I was one of these people when I first learned that RoboCop was getting a reboot.  I would hardly call the original film a "classic".  It was a decent sci-fi adventure when it was originally produced, more than twenty-five years ago, but I would hardly consider it classic.  However, as with all popular films, a reboot or retelling, is almost inevitable, these days.  Past films like True Grit, Planet of the Apes and most recently, Batman and Total Recall have all been reintroduced into the culture as retelling's of the originals.  Even George Lucas did this a few years ago with his Star Wars franchise, only instead of redoing the movies in their entirety, he instead opted to add stupid shit to them, thus making a mockery of his name and forever placing a blemish on the true sci-fi masterpieces.

As for this newest version of RoboCop, for those attending the movie believing it to be a remake of the original, are going to be disappointed greatly.  Even the way that Detective Alex Murphy loses his life is completely different from the original, and there's a great reason for this change, which I will share in a moment.  However, if you go into the theater with a sound (and open) mind, you will come away from the movie quite pleased.  For RoboCop, 2014, is NOT a remake, but a reinterpretation of the original story line.

The gist of it is the same, in that Detective Murphy is killed and is reanimated as the robotic crime fighter, known unconventionally as RoboCop, but beyond that, I like the changes that the film makers brought to life.  They've presented the RoboCop from a much more human point of view, even throwing a question out to the audience of whether or not it is right to fool with Mother Nature in reanimating that which, beyond all accounts, should be dead?

The story told in the film was pretty cut and dry, except for the finale, which confused me some.  They elude to some kind of secret, but fail to elaborate, so the conclusion seems almost fabricated and thrown together as a last resort.  Like the director, Jose Padilha, figured that as long as the sequences were tied together with some extraordinary special effects, that audiences will be fooled into loving the film.

This is not the case.  Up to now, it seems like I'm singing the movie's praises, but in the end I have to admit that it's not a fantastic movie.  I do love the changes to the RoboCop itself.  It's a better actor (Joel Kinnaman) portraying the RoboCop.  It's more believable that the RoboCop would speed all around Detroit on a motorcycle than squeezing his robotic fat-ass into a cramped Ford Taurus (est. RoboCop, 1987).  Alex Murphy, after his metamorphosis, is more human that machine.

The only fail the movie has for me is the overall story line.  It's a bit weak and shallow, not to mention confusing and contrived.  Based on my FOUR STAR RATING SYSTEM, I give RoboCop (2014) THREE STARS.

As for why the origin of Detective Alex Murphy's death was changed so drastically, I theorize that it's based on the rating of the film.  The original RoboCop possessed an R-rating.  The film showcased female nudity, strong language and grotesque and violent images, which included Murphy having his hand blown off by a shotgun and one of the villains (literally) melting from overexposure to nuclear waste.  The newest rendition possesses only a PG-rating.  There's no nudity.  No strong language and impressive but not over-the-top violence.  This allows children to attend then run out afterwards to pick up the new RoboCop action figures.  Film making, after all, is more about business and the almighty dollar, than it is about entertainment.

Proclivity

Many o' thing will pop into my head throughout the common workday.  In order to keep myself alert, I often will sing quietly to myself, or as in the case this morning, hum a (somewhat) familiar ditty.  This morning it was something from The Doors, although I'm not familiar with what it was exactly, nor do I know for certain that it was a song actually performed by The Doors.  I'm not a fan, nor have I ever been a fan of, Jim Morrison.  I don't know why, but I suspect it has something to do with Oliver Stone's biopic, The Doors (1991).

This practice has been a common habit, or proclivity, for quite a long while.  Almost since my first day on the job more than a year and a half ago.  I've often joked that the radio in my forklift is broken and there's only one song that repeats in the disk drive.  My forklift doesn't have a radio, nor do most of the rubes I work with, have the mental fortitude to comprehend even the most basic of humour.  Sometimes I feel so alone at work.

In addition to humming and hawing over a wide menagerie of musical entities in my wheelhouse, my mind also has a tendency to question that which I see around me.  Like for instance, despite the temperature maintaining itself at a painful subzero level for most of the day, why the f*ck was it snowing from about three o'clock on?  The environmental weather is all topsy-turvy today.  Completely illogical.  Another avenue that my mind ventured down today, actually involved the word proclivity.  Although, I will admit, at the time I wasn't a hundred percent certain on exactly what the definition of the word was, but imagine my delight when discovering that it's meaning actually corresponds nicely with this subject matter.  However, here is where my mental skew takes it's ugly turn, as it often does when I'm concerned.  On the other hand..., what the hell?  The English language, for all it's luster and beauty, can be a little intimidating and f*cked up, too, for all intense purposes.

Proclivity [proh-kliv-i-tee] /prōˈklivətē, prə-/. The word is defined as, by www.Dictionary.reference.com as: a natural or habitual inclination and/or tendency; a propensity or predisposition: as a  proclivity to meticulousnes...  In my mind, this inventive word which originated in Latin, actually takes a much more bastardized and sordid meaning, while in my fleeting care.  To me, Proclivity sounds like a communicable disease.  (Example #1) :  "I hooked up with that attractive Asian chick Saturday night, but now, it seems, she's given me a scorching case of Proclivity!!"  Luckily, Proclivity is treatable.

During the final moments of my workday, these absurd thoughts gave me cause to chuckle and smile quietly to myself.  Discovering more creative avenues, I continued on with the harmless charade, knowing full well that I'd be adding this subject to my plethora of previous blog ideas and subject matters.  

In further testing my own creativity, I came up with a second scenario which tests the strength and multiple use of this interesting word.  (Example #2) : "I hooked up with that attractive Asian chick on Saturday night, but I seem to have contracted some sort of a scorching rash!  Luckily, the doctor says I only need a few shots of Proclivity for a speedy recovery."  I wish I could buy stock in the company that produces Proclivity!  

Out With A Bang, In With An OUCH!!

The beginning of 2013 had me fighting a bad case of pneumonia, followed by a few months of worry and concern, with return visits for X rays and CT Scans, following the progress of, what was described to me as a "black mass" on my lung.  That turned out to not be as serious as was initially believed. (Phew!)  Then the last half of December, I found myself sick, again, which I eventually found myself battling an excruciating bout of pneumonia, once again.  That fight took up most (if not all) of my two week shutdown break from work.  Yay!  At least the weather was shitty and cold, so I never had much need (or desire) to leave the comforts of my house.

January 2nd, 2014, was my first day back to work.  While I didn't feel a 100%, I did feel (or so I thought) well enough to return to work.  I knew that there'd be at least a couple of people still gone with extended vacations, but we were down four in actuality.  I managed to muscle through my Thursday, but with a badgering cough that was fueling an exasperating headache.  With every frenzied cough attack, the world would fade through my eyes and the painful pounding would commence.  Thankfully, it being the first day back, my job wasn't too strenuous and was easily manageable, despite the discomfort.

The fight never ceased after the final bell rang and it was home time.  I came home to a snowy driveway, packed with hardened snow that I foolishly took a stab at clearing.  The hard packed snow had accumulated a few days prior, so much so that it blocked my front door, which caused the bottom of the door to bend and tear away, upon my exit on Tuesday.  (Great!  More expense out of pocket.)  The temperature had warmed up significantly, but not enough to avoid heavy breathing.  With my asthma, I find that the cooler temperatures really have an adverse effect on me.  Especially since the discovery of the "black mass" on my lung.  Earlier in the season, with the dropping Mercury, I found my breathing to be difficult and laboured, at best.  This is something that the specialist relayed to me as the norm for the remainder of my days.  (I really gotta win that lottery, so I can retire to Texas or Arizona.  Or maybe New Zealand.  That place looks like it could be kinda cool..., except for all the god damned Orcs.)

Thursday night and Friday morning was disturbing.  It seemed for every thirty minute to hour patch of sleep, I'd be woken up abruptly with a coughing frenzy.  Even in the darkness of my bedroom, with my head pounding hard, my surroundings seemed to fade from my view.  Reluctantly, I contacted my employer in the morning, notifying that I regretfully would not be coming into work.  I hate leaving them in a lurch like that, despite my boss thinking that I do.  I went back to sleep for (thankfully) a very restful hour, before I got up and drove myself to the hospital.  This is something that I really should have addressed over my break, but I had my pal's van while he and his family were on vacay in Florida and I didn't want them to come home to needing to be taxied to my house to pick up their van.  However, I do think that if I'd had addressed my illness in a more timely fashion, my current predicament could've been avoided, possibly.

I was hooked up to a nebulizer, where medication was administered into my lungs.  "Breath deeply." I was instructed by the wee little blonde nurse.  On completion of that, I was ushered to the X ray department to get an X ray done, then ushered back after that.

The beginning of 2013, I fought a terrific case of pneumonia.  The end of 2013 had me fighting the worst bout of pneumonia (or any sickness I've ever experienced, including Swine Flu in 2009), and now, I'm barely ankle deep into 2014, and I'm forced to fight a f*cking lung infection??

I don't subscribe to any sort of religion and you'll never see me crouching at my bedside with hands clenched, praying for this or that, but in case I'm terribly mistaken, if there is a God, he'd better bless me with a substantial lottery win pretty f*ckin' soon.  I've paid more than my fair share of dues in this shitty life of mine.  I deserve a god damned break.  This inability to breath, bullshit, is just that.  Bullshit!!

Are You Kidding Me? There Can Only Be One.

In doing some light reading, I've come to learn that before Christianity swept over the land, however many ions ago that was, one of the dominant religions was known as Ásatrú.  Asatru (Icelandic, "Æsir faith") has been highlighted, as of late, in the Marvel Comic theatrical releases of the superhero THOR.  Although the religion itself, whose actual founding date seems to pre-date any known calendar, was all but obliterated from the annuls of time, has been steadily been revived (and returning to popularity) since the 1970s.

Ásatrú is an Old Norse word consisting of Ása, referring to the Norse gods, and trú, which loosely translates to "troth" or "faith". Thus, Ásatrú means "religion of the Æsir."  Synonymously, terms for Asatru include Germanic Neopaganism, Germanic Heathenism, Odinism, or Heathenry.  The original, ancient form of Norse religion is usually referred to as Germanic paganism, or Norse mythology.

Those who choose to follow this religion, do so by following the teachings of (1) Odin (Germanic Woden), who is the god of magic, poetry, riches and the dead; ruler of Valhalla (Wednesday is a derivative of his name, although I wonder how he'd feel knowing that this is also known as Hump Day?);  (2) Thor, who is the sky god who wields a big hammer, able to control the weather, and enforces the law and the community (Thursday is derived from his name, and rightfully so.  If the movies are any indication, he kicks ass, just as Thursday, my wrestling day [TNA Impact - SpikeTV]).  There's also (3) Freyr, who is the fertility god, also represented with a phallic statue and seen as the founder of the Swedish royal dynasty.  (Yeah, I kinda doubt it too...); and (4) Freyja (sister to Freyr and also Odin's hot wife), fertility goddess of love and beauty and sister to Freyr, known by many names (including Frigg) and patron of families, her name is a derivative of Friday)... (TGIF).

So what is my point to all this?  I don't know.  I kind of found it fascinating.  Fascinating in the sense that although it'd replaced by bible-thumping Christianity freaks in the first have of the millennia (1st Century AD, the 4th Century AD & the 7th Century AD), that the religion been steadily making a comeback.  Ásatrú, the modern attempt to revive the old Norse faith, was founded by the Icelandic farmer Sveinbjörn Beinteinsson (1924–1993). Beinteinsson was a sheep farmer and a priest in the religion, who published a book of rímur (Icelandic rhymed epic poetry) in 1945. In 1972 he petitioned the Icelandic government to recognize the "Icelandic fellowship of Æsir faith" as a recognized religious body and it was done so in 1973.   Denmark and Norway have since followed.

There are other deities related to the faith, of course.  There's Njord, who is the father of Freyr and Freyja,  who is the god of ships, seas and lakes; Tyr (Germanic Tiu), also a derivative of Tuesday, (or as I like to call it, Cheap Night at the Movies) - god of battle, sacrifice and justice;  Ullr, the god of death, winter, and hunting.  (It's also nice to have a name to attach to the blame for all this shitty-ass cold weather we've been experiencing...); and last, but not least, Loki, who is referred to as "the trickster", but as the movie has shown us, he's also the guy with the really bad taste in head wear.  (Hee hee hee, the best part of that Avengers movie..: "Hulk Smash Loki", hilarious!  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x2fVdNBGTTo).

So is this a viable religion?  To me, it seems to mirror that of the Gods of the Greek Mythology.  One God to overlook one or two things, be it the sea and lakes, or fertility among mankind, or a God for poetry and magic.  Whatever.  If Christianity has taught me anything, it's that they're lazy as f*ck, conjoining everything into one lump sum, and having one God oversee it all.  Ya wonder why your prayers go unanswered?  Because your God doesn't know how to delegate.  He's got too much shit on his plate already, therefore your desire for a new bike or for your sports team to win,  just isn't a priority.  And why are you bothering him with a request for a new bike, ya dumb shit?  As for sports teams, everyone knows that God is a Saskatchewan Roughrider (CFL).  

Is it silly to follow Odin, Thor and alike?  Sure it is!  But no more silly than following Christianity.  I know it's likely that I may catch a little fall out for making that comment, but do I really give two shits about what people who pray to an invisible man who lives in the clouds, think?  I mean, a Virgin Birth?  If anyone tried to pass that shit off, nowadays, they'd be committed to the first available rubber room, complete with a canvass jacket that ties up in the back.

However, given how the ladies all swoon and croon over that bloke, Chris Hemsworth, I think the argument for praising the Norse Gods, really is gaining popularity.  I don't see, myself.  If anyone should be crooned and swooned upon, it should be Kat Dennings.  Now there is a true Goddess.  Meeyow.