Another non-entry

Whole lot of nothing to say, lately. Since the residency came through, it's all been rather slow.

Had an uneventful but enjoyable Christmas. So there's that.

Started reading a Donald E. Westlake book last night, and 19 pages in I decided to stop. People who are funny, I can take. People who try to be funny, not so much. The other two books I read -- Somebody Owes Me Money and Money For Nothing -- actually were funny, so I don't know what happened with this one.

Nikki got me a book today called "The Map That Changed The World" which looks fascinating. It's by Simon Winchester, who wrote "The Professor and the Madman", about the creation of the Oxford English Dictionary. "Yawn," I know, but it was incredible! Can't wait to read this one, but I have a stack from the library that I have to plow through first. One about the Black Dahlia, which is always good reading. Except when it's by James Ellroy. And a couple others that I can just burn through in a day or so. All serial killer stuff, so it's not heavy-hitting journalism, but the sensationalistic tripe they like to churn out to cash in on tragedies. Well, that's commerce for you.

We're going down to Deb and Brendan's on New Year's. The plan was to play the Dawn of the Dead boardgame (!), but Brendan and I felt it's way too complicated to just toss Deb and Nikki into, so we've decided, instead, to have a horror movie marathon. I said I'd bring Shaun of the Dead, and Brendan suggested I bring some more along -- I'm thinking the original Texas Chain Saw Massacre (which probably won't go over very well, so I'll bring the remake as a backup), Creepshow, Jacob's Ladder, Return of the Living Dead, The Thing and The Fog. I'd love to do a Romero/Dead marathon, but I'm pretty sure I'd be out-voted on that. And I'll count myself lucky enough if I can get Brendan to watch the original Chain Saw...

Branching

I read today that there's a sequel to the remake of Dawn of the Dead in the works. It won't be a remake of Day of the Dead, the sequel to George Romero's original Dawn, and the third in his Zombie series, but a sequel in its own right.

The recent remake of Dawn wasn't a sequel, either, to 1990s remake of 1968s Night of the Living Dead, but a stand-alone film. Odd that a remake of a sequel can stand on its own, but nevermind.

There's also a sequel to the original Day of the Dead, called Day of the Dead: Contagium, which, oddly enough, doesn't have anything to do with the characters or events in Day, but takes an alternate look at what might have caused the whole Zombie epidemic in the first place, which makes it, technically, another remake -- or, to borrow a term from Tim Burton -- a re-imagining of Night.

You see where this is headed?

In addition, Romero's former Night partner, John Russo, has produced his very own sequel to Night, called Children of the Living Dead... which itself has spawned a sequel, Escape from the Living Dead. (Since, like Day, this is the third in the series, can it too be considered a re-imagining?) According to allthingszombie.com, Russo states that Escape will have a budget of $5-10 million, and that several big-name stars are said to be interested in the film, including Jeff Goldblum, Patrick Swayze, Dennis Hopper, and even Jim Carrey. This is bullshit, of course, because Children was soooo mind-numbingly bad, its director, the improbably named Tor Ramsey, has taken a public stand against it in the "bits and pieces" section of homepageofthedead.com. Turns out that he's pretty much of an asshole himself, but he does explain how the film was ultimately taken out of his hands, even as he was directing it. No Orson Welles, this guy.

Return of the Living Dead was marginally a sequel to Night -- when Russo was involved early on, it was meant to be a direct sequel, but it soon became less so and more a stand-alone film which paid homage to Romero's film. Of course that saw two sequels, both of which sucked, and will soon, all too soon, see two more sequels, which will no doubt suck in their very own special ways as well.

Why does it seem that every Zombie movie made in the last twenty-five years is either a remake of, or a sequel to, or a remake of a sequel to one of Romero's flicks? His universe has branched off in so many different directions, it's about to lap itself -- and it can be argued that it already has. Shaun of the Dead, while it took the whole Zombie thing in an entirely different direction, profound though it turned out to be, still made reference to the original Night by way of the mysterious satellite that may or may not have been the cause of the Zombie epidemic.

Man, can't ya just have Zombies without having to rely on Romero for your background material? Cripes, even 28 Days Later decided to go another way with the whole "rage infected monkey" thing. But, as has been pointed out ad nauseum by more experienced reviewers than myself, 28 Days Later was not a Zombie film, so does it really count?

I don't know. As far as I'm concerned, the Final Word on Zombies will be Romero's own Land of the Dead, due out next year. Likely, it will be George's Final Word as well...

At last

Got a call from our lawyer today: My residency has been approved!

This news was met with much less excitement than expected, only because we'd already celebrated a few weeks ago. We wanted to celebrate again tonight, but it all seemed rather pointless. Kind of an anti-climax, really, to what seemed to be an uphill battle.

Ah, well. Over and done with. Now I should be able to get back on track with the writing, see how that goes. Plus, we can start looking for a place to live without having to worry about whether I'm going to be able to actually live there or not.

Brother

Got to speak to Mike yesterday for the first time in about two years. He's got himself into some trouble (which, for propriety's sake, I won't go into here), and wrote to tell me about it. I rang him and we talked for about 4 or 5 hours. He explained his situation, and then we both went off on Mom and her hobby of humiliating her children, but it wasn't all so heavy -- we talked about SHAUN OF THE DEAD, the new DAWN, I told him what's going on with my residency, and he told me to check out a comedian named Ron White, who sounds suspiciously like Bill Hicks, which ain't all that bad.

Now I'm going to have to call Mom, though, and I'm not looking forward to that. Apparently, he's not allowed to use the computer without someone signing him in, because giving him the password would be too much like treating him like an adult, I suppose. That shit's going to stop. He's got to be able to reach me at any given time, through Skype or the actual phone lines, and he can't get me on the computer at 3am if he's got to get someone's permission first.

I wish he could get out of there. Out of that house, obviously, but out of the area, as well. Lebanon County is just no good for anyone, it seems. Coming over here isn't an option just yet, so I don't know what he's going to do. He's caught in a Catch-22: Needs a better job to get out, but needs to get out to get a better job. I'm lucky I had a girlfriend who could help finance my trip -- Mike's girlfriend is in the same position he's in, so she's just an anchor. I just hope he can cut loose before he gets dragged all the way down...

Dude, you're old

It's my brother Mike's birthday, today. He's 22, which is just unfathomable to me. I know I'M getting older, so it's stands to reason that HE'S getting older... but I was only 22, like, five minutes ago, yet there's this 12 year gap between us, so it must be more like... well, like 12 years ago.

Anyway, he's in the US, and I'm in Australia, and for reasons which decorum prohibits going into here, I can't ring him. So I'll Blog my birthday wish to him, along with the beginnings of what promises to be a hilarious comic strip, if I can ever think of an ending.

What? -- I said it was the beginning of a hilarious comic strip, didn't I? Do you know how long this takes? Hopefully I'll have it finished by the time he's 23.

Happy birthday, bro...!

Land of the Dead

George Romero has started work on the fourth film in his Zombie series, called Land of the Dead. Shooting commenced in Canada (in itself, an interesting point), last month.

Originally, it was going to be called Dead Reckoning, which sounded silly to me, because where's the corelation to Night, Dawn and Day? (Not that Land has that corelation, but at least it has "of the Dead", which somehow makes it fit better. At least in my mind.) Anyway, last night I'm on the IMDB and found a link to the script. Not the original Dead Reckoning script, we're talking the brand-spanking new August 24, 2004 draft of Land. So I downloaded it, and although I've only read 9 pages, but if it keeps going the way it's going, I don't see Romero being allowed back into Amerikkka anytime too soon. Check this shit out:

• Pg2: In describing the Zombie-ridden city of Uniontown (!), Romero says "PEOPLE, seen in SILHOUETTE, stroll past quaint shops whose signs promise RELIABLE APPLIANCES, WELL-MADE CLOTHES, SOLID VALUES." Sounds like America in the 50s, doesn't it?
• Pg8: In order to get around, our few surviving humans shoot fireworks into the sky to mesmerize the zombies, making it easier/safer to rush out and kill them. "DEAD THINGS stand completely frozen in the middle of the street, like statues, mesmerized by the FIREWORKS." Zombies. Fireworks. Jesus Christ, George!! It's one thing to draw a parallel between Zombies and consumerism, as in Dawn, but to PARALYZE your ZOMBIES with PATRIOTISM...

When it was still called Dead Reckoning, Romero said that the people in the story would be used to the Zombies, treating them kind of like the homeless are treated these days; because they're dead and rotting, they're not as great a threat, and people can literally step over them in the streets. Apparently, this has changed. Like I said, I'm only 9 pages in, but Nikki read the script while I was sleeping, and she assures me that the Zombies come off less as homeless persons than migrant workers. Illegal migrant workers, at that. (Can you say "Go Back Where You Came From, We Don't Want Your Kind Here"?)

And then there's the title. Land of the Dead. As opposed, I'm guessing, to Land of the Free.

I don't know how he's going to get away with this, since speaking out against the government has become illegal in the last few years. Not that I think The Leader and his mob are going to take notice of a little horror movie -- they've got countries to take over and people to defraud and kill, don'tcha know? -- but it's going to be interesting, just the same, to see how this one's received. Will people even care about a Zombie movie with a socio-political message, like those from so long ago? (The last one, of course, delivered by Romero himself.) Or will they just want some mindless action movie disguised as a Zombie flick, like the recent DotD and Chainsaw remakes?

I, for one, can't fucking wait...

"Should I Stay or Should I Go?"

Last week I received a booklet from the Department of Immigration (for those who don't know, I'm applying for Australian residency), welcoming me to Victoria. There was no official letter from the Department, just this book with information on how to register for a tax file number, how to register with Medicare, open a bank account, etc. All of which I'd already done. Had, in fact, included most of this information in our initial application.

That should have been our first clue.

Today I get this letter from our lawyer, stating that the Department has requested further documentation to establish the fact that we "reside in a genuine and continuing spouse relationship".

In addition to all the Medicare and tax info, we'd also supplied them with the following: bank records from Dec 2003 onwards; invitation to birthday party 29 Dec 2003, including "Steve and Nikki"; invitation to engagement party 23 Feb 2003, to "Steve and Nikki"; Thanksgiving card dated 11 Sept 2003, to "Steve and Nikki"; Christmas card to family, including Nikki and Steve, Christmas 2003; and copies of notes addressed to Nikki and Steve 2003 and 2004 regarding anniversary. What in the hell else can we possibly produce to show that we're living together? Here are a few of the things that the Department suggests:

• Rental agreements and receipts-- we have none.
• Mortgage documents-- ditto.
• Purchase documents of items acquired together (e.g., car, furniture, electrical equipment)-- none.
• All joint and separate bank or credit card statements-- already have done.
• Taxation returns-- already have done.
• Utility accounts-- we have none.
• Birth certificates of any children born in the relationship-- again, none.
• Marriage certificate from Registry of Birth, Deaths and Marriages-- we've submitted at least two of these so far.

Ignoring the fact that we've already given them three of the things they're asking for, what do we have to do, apart from getting pregnant, to prove we're in a relationship?

Look, I completely understand the screening process, and I don't mind showing proof of our relationship. But again and again and again? It'd be funny if it weren't so ridiculous. Or if it were happening to someone else. Jesus, where's Harry Tuttle when you need him?

Open Letter to Adam Sandler

Dear Adam:

That shit with the Foxy Grandma? Cut it out. You know what I'm talking about.

It's not just you, I know -- I'm addressing all filmmakers who employ the Foxy Grandma device (David E. Kelley has apparently resurrected Betty White for the sole purpose of being his own personal Foxy Grandma), but I'm singling you out because you're the worst offender, by far -- I'm speaking, of course, about the Rappin' Grandma in The Wedding Singer.

Seriously, dude: Not Funny. Not even a little bit.

And I'll tell you why.

Because Ruth Gordon died in 1985, and the role died with her. She was a beautiful woman whose spirit shone through in every part she played -- whether in My Bodyguard, Every Which Way But Loose, Kojak or The Love Boat -- and it's wrong of you to perpetuate this sad, pathetic stereotype in the interest of a cheap laugh.

I'm going to stop now, before I go all Harold and Maude on you. Stop mocking Ruth Gordon's memory, and leave the Foxy Grandma thing alone.

Thank you.

Fulcirama

Nikki's sister, Kelli, leaves for Denmark today, and the family has gone to Melbourne to see her off. I have opted to stay home with Fulci, largely because he's a great big infantile sook. Though he puts on a pretty good show of being a tough guy, when we're at the park or out for a walk -- hell, if another dog so much as walks past the house on the other side of the street, he's up and barking as though we were under attack -- but we can't go to the store for five minutes without him crying by the door for our return. I can't imagine how depressed he'd be if we left him alone for the seven hours a trip to Melbourne and back would take.

So I'm here, trying to reassure him that, just as they have tens of thousands of times before, everyone will eventually return. But I know he doesn't believe me. He just gives me this patronizing look that says, "Hey, thanks for trying; I appreciate the effort, but let's not kid each other, huh?" And I just don't know how to respond to that.

"We live inside a dream..."

Received today my Korean import Fire Walk With Me 2-disc set.

It doesn't have much in the way of special features -- theatrical trailer and a 30min documentary "Reflections on the Phenomenon of Twin Peaks", which is nothing more than interviews with the cast and crew from 2000 (from the same interviews as the first season box set, from the look of things), but was still great to watch.

The 2nd disc includes the excellent documentary "Pretty as a Picture", about the works of David Lynch. (No deleted scenes yet, but it's still more than the American release had.) I wish Artisan, or whoever, would get into gear and release the 2nd season. I feel a 15 year anniversary marathon coming on...!

Apologies to Mr. Romero

I'm going to take my aspirations to one day write a Zombie flick and pack them away for a while, until the brilliance of Shaun of the Dead dims a bit, and I'm able to come at it properly, without thinking, "Why bother? I'll never be that good."

When I'd originally heard about the movie on AllThingsZombie.com, I thought it was just some cheapie fan-fick, shot on video, that had attained some measure of fame through the festival circuit, like Clerks. The more I heard about it, the bigger the buzz, I learned that I couldn't have been farther from the mark. This wasn't just a bunch of guys who got their friends together to shoot a horror flick over a weekend; the writer and director, Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright, have achieved a great level of fame in the UK with their tv show Spaced, and after learning more about that, and finally seeing Shaun, I want them to be my best friend. In fact, I would settle for them not being my friend, simply to follow them around, sycophantic, like that little dog in the Warner Brothers cartoons.

After discussing it at length with Nikki, I've come to the conclusion that Shaun of the Dead is simply the best Zombie movie I've ever seen. I know that's a bold statement, but I've given it some grave thought -- pardon -- and even though Shaun is essentially a comedy, it still manages to beat the shit, Zombie-wise, out of any other Zombie movie I can think of because, beyond all the Zombies and the comedy, Shaun had a point, a message, almost. And this is where it's better than the rest of what's out there today. It didn't just take a disparate few and throw a bunch of Zombies at them. (Actual Zombies, mind you -- classic, shambling, slow-moving Zombies.) It went where Romero's flicks went, using the Zombies as metaphor, and actually (shock!) telling a story.

And Pegg and Wright clearly acknowledg their debt. Shaun makes reference to many classic horror flicks, including several nods to Romero's trilogy, as well as the Evil Dead series (and 28 Days Later is openly slammed during the film's final sequence, which warmed my heart quite a bit).

It's smart, it's funny, it's romantic, it's terrifying. Shaun of the Dead is perfect. Puts Romero in quite a bind, doesn't it, now that he's making Land of the Dead? I don't think even he can top this one.

Are you sure he's not Hitler?

I wanted to post this last week, but I didn't get around to it. It is perhaps the most frightening thing I've ever read, and a clear indicator of the direction America is headed.

In a recent episode of The Practice, the writers (likely David E. Kelley, himself) had Eleanor say in her closing arguement in a similar case, "I thought all of America was a free-speech zone."

Apparently, not so much.

America, you make me sad

I am, as ever, stunned at the short-term memory of the American people. Just four short years ago, this guy was forced down your throats by a Supreme Court who decided that maybe your actual votes didn't count as much as two and a quarter centuries of democracy would have had you believe, and now you're begging for more? That's insane. Don't you see what he's done to you these past four years? Christ, it's like you're in an abusive relationship -- "Oh, he's really not that bad, you just don't see all the good he's done." Only in this case, the truth is, you do deserve it. You were lame enough to let him get away with it the first time, and now there's no stopping him. Go you.

But you know what's most infuriating about this? It's the fact that he won by such a slim margin. I'm shocked and appalled that only half of you voted against him. Hell, that's the same percentage that voted against him in the 2000 election -- and he hadn't even properly displayed his disdain for the American people at that time. Since then, he's sanctioned God-knows how many attrocities against the environment, sat idly by while America came under attack, outright lied to you about the perpetrators of that attack, gone to war against the will of 70% of the American people, and made untold millions of dollars for his dad and select pals. And this did nothing to sway you? Still only half of you -- well, less than half of you -- don't want him in office?

America, you make me sad. If, as GWB feels, atheists are not true Americans, then I stand firmly behind my stance that There Is No God. Isn't this election proof enough?

"Democracy simply does not work."

Election results are coming in and it looks like Bush is ahead -- as far as the popular vote goes, anyway -- by about two million votes. Is that possible? Two million? I wouldn't have thought two million people total would have voted for that smirking asshole, yet he's currently in the lead by that much.

Of course, it's not the popular vote that counts (or any vote, for that matter, if you consider the 2000 election), but the Electoral vote -- and he's ahead in that, too, by something like 58 points! It doesn't look like Kerry can recover.

Cripes, another four years. On the bright side, he can't have a third term -- barring any new amendments, that is. But we probably won't be around to see the end of his second term, anyway, judging from the way he fucked things up during the first one.

3 minutes that stop the nation

Melbourne Cup Day today, which means the whole of Australia is closed. It's just a horse race, for Christ's sweet sake, why are the schools closed?

Aaaanyway.

Watched Jeepers Creepers 2 last night, which wasn't as bad a move as you might think. The first one was somewhat a surprise (at least the first 30-40mins, which were just relentless), so my expectations for this one were higher than perhaps they should have been. It was better than the second half of the first one, I'll give it that, but the Creeper wasn't as effective. There's a difference between giving your monster a personality and turning him into Freddy Krueger, and this film went the Elm Street route. It just didn't work. What was nice was seeing a busload of asshole jock-head football players get rent assunder.

The Big Bonus, of course, was the inclusion of Ray Wise as a farmer whose young son was killed by the Creeper. Hell-bent on revenge and single-minded in his determination, Wise wore his "Bob" face through most of the picture. The ending left no room for a sequel, thank the gods, unless it's to be set 23 years in the future. Honestly, I'd dig a prequel. Set it in1977, say, or 1954. The Creeper's been doing his thing for hundreds of years, apparently, so you could almost set it in Colonial times. That I'd pay to see. As long as it's not made by Victor Salva. His Shirtless Boy motif got pretty annoying last night, and distracted me from much of the film. Normally, we'd have found the football team's serial shirtlessness quite funny. But when you factor in Salva's child molestation conviction, it's just... well, creepy.

Silver Shamrock masks for one and all!

No big Halloween fest tonight, alas. Just kicking back to watch Halloween III. Not a cinematic classic, not by far, but not bad for all that. And it stars Tom Atkins, fer cryin' out loud, so what else do you want? Just wish it could have been explored by someone a smidge more talented than Tommy Lee Wallace. Well, what're you gonna do?

It'll be days before I can get that damn Silver Shamrock song outta my head, I'll bet...

Not a Real Entry

I know, I kinda cheated on that last entry. This whole non-productive period is taking its toll. But the astute reader will note that its a reference to Throw Momma From The Train, which has to count for something, no?

Maybe it's time to watch Barton Fink again. Or Naked Lunch. They're both about writer's who can't write, and then, after going through some tremendous emotional trial, find that they're able to write again. Not that either inspire me in any way, necessarily, but it's almost like, by watching Fink or Will Lee suffer, I'm being absolved. It's comforting in a Christian Mythos sort of way.

"The night was..."

alluring… aqueous… ardent... arduous... arid... bad... baking... black... blazing... bleak... blistering... blurred... blurry... blustery... boiling... boring... brewing... bright... brilliant... broiling... brooding... brutal... bubbling... burdensome... burning... calm... carnal... charring... cheerless... clammy... clouded... cloudy... cold... commanding... cooking... cruel... cumbersome... damp... dampened... dank... dark... dazzling... depressing... despondent... despotic... devastating... dewy... dim... dingy... disconsolate... dismal... downcast... dreary... drenched... dripping... drippy... drizzly... dull... dusky... effulgent... equatorial... erotic... fiery... foggy... foul... frying... gleaming... glittering... gloomy... glorious... glowing... glum... gray... grim... harsh... hazy... heavy... holy... hot... humid... hydrous... icy... icky... illuminating... impenetrable... incandescent... inclement... intense... lachrymose... leaden... lifeless... luminescent... luminous... lustrous... melancholy... misty... moist... molten... moonless... morose... muggy... murky... mysterious... nasty... oppressive... overcast... parched... phosphorescent... provocative... radiant... raging... rainy... refulgent... resplendent... roasting... saturated... scalding... scorching... searing... seething... sensual... shadowy... shady... shining... shiny... showery... silent... simmering... sizzling... smoggy... smoldering... soaked... soaking... sodden... soggy... solemn... somber... sopping... soupy... sparkling... steaming... steamy... stewing... sticky... stifling... stormy... stuffy... sullen... sultry... swarthy... sweltering... tawny... tearful... tempestuous... tenebrous... torrid... tropical... vaporous... voluptuous... waterlogged... watery...

Doug Did It

Wasted our time on Gothika tonight. It was neither as bad as the reviews said, nor as good as it could have been. It had atmosphere -- all good horror movies have "atmosphere" but since no one has yet offered a convincing argument as to what that means, exactly, it's an easy point to score -- but it also had plot-holes you could drive a bus through. Most of the blame can be laid at the feet of screenwriter Sebastian "I Somehow Managed To Fuck Up The Big Bounce" Gutierrez, but it's from Dark Castle Productions, who are the guys responsible for the remakes of The House on Haunted Hill and Thirteen Ghosts, as well as the equally logic-impaired Ghost Ship, so I don't know that plot was a big concern.

Nikki brought this up: Why, she asked, if the ghost-girl can manage to slash "Not Alone" into Halle Berry's forearm, even manage -- inexplicably -- to breathe on glass and write it in the condensation, didn't she just write "Doug Did It"? At one point, Berry escapes from her cell and breaks into one of the doctors' offices. On the computer screen, apparently accessed by the dead girl, is a news article on the girl's alleged suicide. Now, if she can surf the 'net, why not just open Word and type out a full explanation, rather than all this silly "Not Alone" business? Ghosts, it seems, can only be vague.

If you can cast all this aside as easily as the Dark Castle guys apparently did, it might be an okay movie. We just had trouble swallowing the fact that Berry obviously beat a murder rap with the "Possessed By Dead Girl" defense.

Cameron Diaz Sucks on Toast!

Just finished watching The Sweetest Thing. A bad call, I know, and against my better judgment, but it's seldom that a movie is actually as bad as the reviews make it out to be, especially when they're as abyssmal as they were for this one, so I thought I'd roll the dice. Sometimes, though, the Law of Averages is against you, and I'd apparently racked up a rather hefty karmic debt against that Law because it came 'round to collect with a vengeance.

I wanted nothing more than to make a list of ways this movie might have been worse, but I could only come up with one, and that's the inclusion of Adam Sandler (and, by association, Rob Schneider) somewhere in the cast. Apart from the all-too-brief scene with Jason Bateman singing "Eternal Flame" at the wedding reception, and an appearance or two by Georgia Engle, this movie has nothing to offer. It's as though the filmmakers actually set out to make the worst movie they possibly could. If so, they hit the mark. Also, Cameron Diaz just plain sucks. Thank you.

I'm not going to sit here and bash the movie -- it's had enough of that from better than the likes of me -- and I'm not going to dwell on the baffling cameo by James Mangold. But I do want to point out two things: 1) Selma Blair -- and this almost goes without saying -- delivers another in a seemingly endless parade of embarrassing, cringe-inducing performances. I used to try and defend her, but I've accepted that I'm fighting an uphill battle, and Ms. Blair herself isn't helping by taking roles such as this one and the one in the new John Waters flick. She needs to knock it off or be humanely put down. And 2) I've found that I'd rather watch a Farrelly Brothers movie than one of these wannabe knock-offs. And I fuckin' hate the Farrelly Brothers, okay? Hate 'em. I'd rather do a Kingpin/Shallow Hall/Stuck On You marathon than have to sit through this crap again.

But guess what?

Intrigued by my ranting and railing against it, Nikki has decided that she has got to see this movie, just to see for herself how bad it really is.

Apparently I still owe a little on that karmic debt.

Top 10 Punchlines

Top 10 Punchlines

(in no particular order)

1. "Moooo!"

2. "It was assaulted... peanut!"

3. "I know what your problem is: You're two tents."

4. "Little blue fucker about this big."

5. "Your garbage cans are empty and your dog's pregnant."

6. "Did I dial five-five-five, two-three-SIX-eight?"

7. "Hello Diane, I'm Bucky Goldstein."

8. "Ta-daaaa!"

9. "Orange you glad I didn't say 'banana'?"

10. "Because you're fuckin' ugly!"

Oh, Discordia!

Late last night, in the wee hours, I finished reading The Dark Tower.

To say that the book was a valiant effort implies that it didn't quite live up to its potential. This much is true. But it also implies that some effort was put into it, which is terribly misleading. Apart from the energy expended in hitting the keys, writing this 680 page tome must have been a breeze for King because everything in it has been cribbed from pre-existing sources. From Sergio Leone westerns and the Lord of the Rings trilogy to The Wizard of Oz, The Magnificent Seven, Harry Potter (!), and King's own work, there’s hardly an original idea to be found.

Not surprising, really, since The Dark Tower has become a dumping ground, a manufacturer's outlet, if you will, where King can move what merchandise he has left, be they damaged goods or just remainders, before calling it quits. And his rush to release the last three books in the series within one year (the first four were released over a 12 year period) makes it seem all the more that he rushed to the finish.

Taking into consideration all seven volumes -- weighing in at about 4000 pages -- I can say that it is, without question, the worst book I've ever read. (And I've read some sucky books: Hannibal, I'm looking at you!) Even on its own, this last book was nothing to scream about. Unless you're screaming in frustration, in which case even a herd of banshees couldn't scream to equal the frustration I was feeling when I turned the last page. I won't go into detail, suffice to say that there seemed to be no point to the whole thing.

Well, a little detail won't hurt: In the end, Roland reaches the top of the Tower, and is then transported back in time to when the first book started, chasing the man in black across the desert. Only this time, he has his fabled horn with him (read Browning's poem for more info on this), which he lost in battle some 23 years before and never stopped to retrieve. Except this time, he did. But what that has to do with anything, or how things would have been different had he had the horn with him when he reached the Tower is something we'll never know. And since we don't know why he was chasing the man in black across the desert in the first place, or what happened in the fifteen years between the story he tells in Wizard and Glass and the beginning of The Gunslinger, the whole thing seems kind of hollow.

After 4000 pages, read over nearly 20 years, I expected a better pay-off.

Even King, in his afterward, said he wasn't wild about the ending. That he doesn't make this stuff up (not exactly), he just writes what he sees.

Man, is that a cop out or what?

Look, I'm not the greatest writer in the world, I know this. But -- okay, here's an example of what I'm talking about when I say King just didn't care in the end.

In the fifth book, Wolves of the Calla, the children of the dusty town of Calla Bryn Sturgis are kidnapped once in every generation by robotic wolves wearing green cloaks. The children are returned, but they're never the same, and grow up to be retarded giants. There's a character in the Calla known as Andy the Messenger Robot (many other functions). This seven-foot-tall mechanoid -- with an inexplicable penchant for fortune telling -- has been a fixture in the Calla for time out of mind. Andy knows all about the Wolves. He's seen 'em come and he's seen 'em go, Andy has, for the past century and a half. It's never occurred to the folken of Calla Bryn Sturgis -- not once in over 150 years -- that Andy may know more than he's saying about the Wolves. Which is very little, anyway, because he is unable to impart any information without a password. Now, Roland and his gang are in town for about 15 minutes before Eddie Dean (not the sharpest knife in the drawer, not by a long shot) starts questioning Andy. One would think the robot is a treasure trove of information, but Eddie, when he finally figures out the password, commands Andy to shut down. No big interrogation scene; not even one little question. Just shuts him right down. What the fuck, I ask you, is that all about?

There's too much in the way of deus ex machina in these last few books (most blatantly in the final one), which King explains away in Wolves by saying that "coincidence has been cancelled". Of course this gives him license to write whatever outrageous shit his mind can conjur, and don't you worry that it doesn't particularly make sense because -- as Roland himself is so fond of saying (endlessly, it seems) -- "There will be water if God wills it". Coupled with the ever-popular, "I don't know how I know this. I just do," it's King's way of saying, "Fuck explaining it. It's on the page, that should be good enough." Which, of course, it ain't.

Last year he was the recipient of the coveted National Book Award. It's so sad that he's finally getting the recognition he deserved back in the early 80s for the kind of work he's turning out now. Work that is, I'm sorry to say, mediocre at best.

I'm glad the journey is over. I'm glad I read the entire series. I'm glad I stuck with it.

Now that I think about it, though, I guess I have read worse (Dreamcatcher, From a Buick 8), but I've never been so profoundly disappointed.

Kilgore No More

I learned today of the death-by-suicide of fictional science-fiction writer Kilgore Trout . He took his own life, it seems, after a psychic predicted another term for George W. Bush.

Here is an article by Kurt Vonnegut, a transcript, really, of the last conversation he had with his fictional alter-ego.

Kilgore Trout. Yet another casualty of the Bush administration.

The End is In Sight!

More on The Dark Tower... So close to the end, but it's not getting any better. Check this out:

One of the characters in the series, Susannah Dean -- who was introduced in the 2nd book, The Drawing of the Three, as Odetta Holmes -- was pushed in front of a subway train when she was younger. Due to this, she lost her legs. Yet, on page 315 of The Dark Tower, King writes this sentence: "...Susanna leaped to her feet and began to scream again."

Leaped to her feet, he says. Just a figure of speech? Maybe, but a most unfortunate choice of words, don't you think?

Sloppy, Steve. Reeeaal sloppy.

Ugh, I can't wait to finish this crap.

False Idols

Never got into the whole "reality tv" thing. Even as far back as MTV's The Real World, I just couldn't buy it, you know? I mean, it's just not reality, is it? It's certainly not everyday you see seven strangers picked to live in a house and have their lives taped to find out what happens when people stop being polite and start getting REAL! Not by far. It's like quantum physics -- you change the outcome just by observing it, so the best thing to do is not observe it. That's my philosophy, anyway, and I'm sticking to it.

I do watch Australian Idol, though. I watch it because Nikki watches it, and she is my beloved.

But it annoys the hell out of me.

Here's what kills me about this show, though. Of all the tens of thousands of people who auditioned for the show, thirty were singled out by the judges, and that number was whittled down to twelve by the Australian public. Just like every year, that's just the way it works. But there's this kid, Joel Turner, who auditioned as a beat-boxer.Let me explain: At last count, five of the idol rejects from last year had record deals: Shannon Noll, Cosima DeVito, Rob "I Rooted Paris Hilton" Mills, Paulini Curuenavuli and Courtney Act. If you include the actual winner, the appallingly bland Guy Sebastian -- who's well on his way to looking like one of those awful Troll dolls, it just occurred to me -- that's half of the Top Twelve. What the hell's the point of voting these people off the show, I ask you, if they're just going to go ahead and put records out anyway? That should be one of the stipulations: You lose, you're banned forever from putting an album out. Or singing karaoke. Even singing in the shower, forget it. (It'd be nice if future series took a page from The Running Man to ensure that the losers are never heard from again.)

There are a lot of jerks who auditioned who simply couldn't sing, and they knew it, so they came in and did something else, like yodel, or rap, or juggle -- anything to get on tv, right? But Turner wasn't among their number. He was dead serious about this beat-boxing thing.

Idol judge Mark Holden was fascinated by this kid, and signed him and his band to a record deal.

Let's not concern ourselves that beat-boxing hasn't been popular since the mid-80s or so. Or that Holden, who called Turner a unique and original talent, apparently missed the beat-boxing boat the first time around. (His reaction is akin to laying the same praise on a Pink Floyd tribute band -- and equally as baffling.) Or that it's just plain embarrassing to watch. Let's just skim over all that and think about the Top Twelve. These kids have to stick it out, week after week, being rejected one by one until the end. And here's Turner, who wasn't even picked from the first round of auditions, and he's just handed a deal!

The hell?

I don't even pretend to understand the point of the show anymore.

Good Will

Nikki took exception to Good Will Hunting making my over-rated movies list. But I stand by it.

Keep in mind, I'm not saying these are bad movies -- I just don't get their appeal. I readily admit that Citizen Kane did much in the way of progressing cinematic techniques... I just don't think that makes it the best movie ever made, you know? Same with Apocalypse Now -- another boat that left me standing on the shore.

I don't know what to tell you, apart from "I can't accept that something is great just because everyone tells me it is." I kind of like to make those decisions for myself -- which doesn't mean I can explain to anyone's satisfaction exactly how C.H.U.D. made it on my own personal Top 100 list. It just did, okay?

That's just my opinion, I could be wrong...

Top 10 Most Over-Rated Movies of the 20^th Century

(in no particular order)

1. A Clockwork Orange

2. Fargo

3. The Shining

4. Boogie Nights

5. Philadelphia

6. American Beauty

7. Saving Private Ryan

8. Forrest Gump

9. Schindler’s List

10. Citizen Kane

You know what? Here's five more. Because you deserve it.

Army of Darkness

The English Patient

Life is Beautiful

Good Will Hunting

Apocalypse Now

Good Grief, More Aliens

Spent the last two nights watching the featurettes from the Alien Quadrilogy set while Nikki's off in another room reading or doing school work. (Back in 2002, I subjected her to a marathon viewing of the first three movies -- no need to put her through it all over again, as she's already resigned herself to sitting through Alien vs. Predator with me, poor girl.) It's a great set, probably the most comprehensive box set ever released, with the possible exception of the new Dawn of the Dead box -- which should arrive next week (he says, salivating with anticipation).

I always thought James Cameron was something of a jerk, but after watching the featurettes on Aliens, I have to say that he's an even bigger jerk than I could possibly have imagined. Those interviewed talk about his "hands-on" approach to directing, which basically amounts to pushing everyone out of his way and doing their job for them. Everyone talks about what a genius he is, and what vision he has, but I think you can get your vision across without demeaning the people working with you. (Yes, with you, Jim. Not for you.)

And I know I'm in the minority here, but I think Aliens is the weakest of the series. I've never been one for war movies, though, so the whole "Marines In Space" thing never did much for me. That, and the fact that I wanted to see them all get chest-bursted make this a hard one to sit through. But maybe it's just me.

As for The Dark Tower, I gotta be honest... I haven't picked it up in days. Every time something pops up that's so jaw-droppingly idiotic (and I wouldn't be exaggerating to say that's about every third page) I think it can't possibly get any worse, one of the characters finds himself -- are you ready for this? -- in a gingerbread house which exists -- brace yourself -- only in the imagination of his dim-witted pal. Or King will drop yet another reference to one of his only-marginally-related-but-you'll-believe-it-because-I-say_so books. Or he'll introduce us to a character who forages through trash cans for booger-encrusted Kleenexes. (Note to King: The majority of your readers aren't fourth-graders. Stop that.)

Yet, I'm compelled to finish the book. I read the six leading up to it, so I feel almost duty-bound to make it to the end. But the truth is, I just don't care anymore. I only want it to be over. Nikki said something about The Return of the King when all the pre-release hype was still going on. She said she didn't really want to see it, but she wanted to have seen it. I feel the same way about The Dark Tower: I want to have read it so I can put it behind me and forget it ever existed. Then I'll go back and re-read The Stand, written during a period in the man's career when he still tried.

Macy's batch I could have done without.

Mario Bello has officially replaced Laura Linney as The Most Unappealing Actress In The World Ever with her performance in The Cooler.

The movie itself isn't awful: William H. Macy plays a guy who's luck is so phenomenally bad, he's hired by Alec Baldwin to hang around his casino so that some of that bad luck rubs off on the patrons. Until Macy falls in love -- rather, until he "gets lucky" with cocktail waitress Natalie, played by Bello, and his luck takes a turn for the better.

Sounded promising, and it started out that way. But the more Maria Bello was onscreen, the less I cared. Her character hit every note on the cliche scale: working girl, do anything for money, gave baby up for adoption, etc. Oh, and of course she's into astrology. (Who'da thunk it?) When Baldwin stormed into her hotel room about 3/4 of the way through the movie, I wanted so badly for him to kill her (which, in truth, would have been a great turn for the story). But no. Sadly, no.

Even though the role was poorly written -- indeed, ill-conceived -- I reckon it would have been tolerable had someone else been cast. I've never been impressed by Bello (Permanent Midnight, Payback, Secret Window), but I've never actively disliked her until now.

We rated it 2 stars out of 5, but we'd watched something called Pretty When You Cry just before -- and the less said about that one, the better -- so we graded on a curve. Too bad, too, because although Macy was pretty much what you expect from him these days, Baldwin was enthralling. Though, now that I think about it, he was really just playing an extension of his character from Glengarry Glen Ross. But how bad can that be?

Maybe it's just me.

I am currently trudging through the last of King's Dark Tower books. God help me. Not that it's a huge book -- at 686 pages, it's a mere pamphlet compared to It or The Stand. The problem is, it sucks.

A lot.

So those 686 pages are rather more daunting than they would normally appear.

Riddle me this: If The Dark Tower is his magnum opus, if it's true that every book he's written has in some way been connected to this series, why in the name of everything that is holy would he feel the need to go back and rewrite the first book, The Gunslinger, to make it fit in with the rest of these books? Doesn't that go against the idea that everything he's ever written has been leading up to these books? I mean, if the first book somehow "doesn't fit" with the rest of the series, maybe there's something wrong with the rest of the series? Y'think?

I don't know. Maybe it's just me.