The_Goat_Speaks

The World Series Of Poker 001: Flush

2011-11-25T21:25:00.000-08:00

So this was my World Series experience.

I made the Rio at about 10:30 PST, and two things became clear the moment I gave my name to the casino desk clerk. First, she definitely saw that I had a room reserved. Second, that room was definitely no longer available. She made a face that I would describe as "Yikes." I'm going to have to put you in a bigger suite, she said. "But it is maybe smoking and maybe not, so maybe it smells like smoke and maybe not. Is that OK?"

It was OK, and when I arrived I found that I was happily on the "maybe not" side of the smoke equation. It was (spoilers) also the only serious piece of luck I'd have. I didn't know that yet, so maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. My suite was in the Masquerade Tower, past an enormous Carnivale jester head suspended from the ceiling between the dancer rail and the Burger King bar, where you can apparently build your own burger. The suite was in the corner, and opened on a wraparound window with a full view of the strip at night. The living room opened on a bedroom, which opened on a bathroom, and each of these rooms by themselves represented the largest hotel room I've ever occupied.

I unpacked -- my possessions sat in the room like a shy boy in the corner of his first party -- and texted CMitch. Mitch was playing cash at the Amazon ballroom. Before you get to hall leading to the ballroom, though, you have to walk past 17 posters advertising Penn & Teller (a spectacular show that I'd seen two years before on my previous Vegas trip) and 230 blanging flashing slots and pokies making droid orgy noises, and the Penn & Teller theater itself. This November, this theater became the site of the biggest show in poker, the final table of the Main Event WSOP, but now it is simply the site of the big Rio magic show, whose performers have lent the theater its name. As it happened, I passed the theater just as the show was letting out, which means I caught a glimpse of Penn Jillette, hair down to his shoulders, posing for pictures with the tourists who had just watched him shoot himself in the neck with a nailgun. Pay your price, get your ticket, make sure you get your souvenir, a little chunk of reflected greatness.

You pass down the hall to the Amazon ballroom, past banners of giants. Daniel Negraneu. Allen Cunningham. Jeff Madsen. Tom Schneider. Erik Lindgren. Previous winners of the WSOP Player of the Year. Who will it be this year? Why...it might be you!! But it won't be me. I'm here for just one event, not nearly enough to rack up the points needed to get into Ben Lamb territory. That's as OK with me as if it were a larger suite of rooms at the casino. I started playing poker regularly in 2005 when I bought in for $50 at True Poker, and all I've really wanted was a shot at a WSOP tournament -- any WSOP tournament. A little chunk of reflected greatness? Maybe it's just that silly. Here's me, just another tourist.

True Poker led to Pacific Poker, which led to Poker Stars and Full Tilt poker, and that's where I stayed until a month ago. That was when both of those sites -- really the only sites left in the US market that mattered -- had been raided by the feds, their funds seized, their U.S.-facing players locked out. Poker was dead in the country that had seen its modern development and birthed it's boom. Poker, against the law in the USA? You may as well deport the Statue of Liberty, that French immigrant, while you're at it. But the death of poker had meant the forced cashout of my funds. I had money on those sites, grown slowly over the years from gradually increasing skill and good bankroll management. I hadn't been able to get my money off Tilt yet -- and, though it was concerning the way they were dragging their heels and not really getting information about the holdup out to players, surely that was a temporary situation. On the happy side I'd had enough on Stars to cover me for trip, hotel, and buyin in one of the smaller tournaments, and Stars paid off quickly and easily, and the check cleared with no problems.

And now, I was going to take my good bankroll management money and blow it all on one shot at glory. By the summer of 2011 I'd played in perhaps thousands of tournaments, so I had few illusions about my chances, even if the level of the play were as bad as I hoped. In order to win a tournament with thousands of runners, you first have to play very well, and then you have to get really really lucky, and you have to keep playing very very well while all the while hoping that you continue to get really really lucky. It's just a fact of tournament poker. I'll put it to you like this: Imagine you get a change to take a bet for all your chips getting a 90% chance to win. You'd take it, right? The answer is 'Yes.' This isn't a trick question. But think of this, now. To take that bet is to lose one time in ten. And to play a tournament with more than a thousand runners is to take that bet more than ten times. Oh and also? You're not going to be getting 90% every time. Not even if you're really good. Sometimes it will be correct to take 40%. 30%. Um...so, yeah, get lucky. That's tournament poker. Be really good, then get lucky. If you're not really good, you don't even get the chance to be lucky. Unless you're Darvin Moon.

Poker players are different than non-poker players in many ways, but in this way particularly: Poker players are far, far warier of the one-in-one-thousand chance at disaster. Us poker players, we've seen thousands of one-in-one-thousand disasters. They're more common than you'd imagine. I think medical professionals probably understand what I'm talking about. My point is that I was flushing my money. But more than that, I knew I was probably flushing the money. I'd explained this to my wife. She and I both decided to let me do something insane anyway.

I walked into what I thought at the time was the Amazon (it was actually the adjacent Convention Hall), and stopped for a second. In a bad novel, I'd inhale sharply at this point. This wasn't a bad novel, so I simply met a madness for which my senses were unprepared while attempting nonchalance. The Rio Convention Hall during the WSOP is full of an Escheresque tablescape of felt and chairs to what feels like the horizonline. If heaven (or hell) were a cardroom, it would be a cardroom with this sort of insane telescopic dreamscape scope. Thousands of tables? Maybe. Probably. Millions of them? Probably not, but with the proper medication you could convince me of it. The first thing I thought was, "This looks like an illusion." And here's the thing: I didn't even realize that this wasn't the only room. The tables are split into sections by color: Yellow, white, black, red, green, tan. Each color split into banks of poker tables, each with its own number suspended above it; 12, 127 289. Thousands of tables? Yes.

One side of the room was devoted to an ongoing tournament, but the other was given to cash games, poor stuck bastards trying to win their lost buyin back and bored tournament jockeys whiling the time away until the next events. Somewhere in that sea of chittering chips and plastic squares sat a friend I'd never met. CMitch, poker blogger and BBT (RIP)regular, who would be playing in my event.

I'm here, I texted. Mitch texted back his coordinates, and I walked there.

"Red shirt, glasses. And I'm behind you." I texted Mitch, then waited for him to check his phone, which he shortly did, and then look behind him, which he did immediately thereafter.

It's spiritually vertiginous to me whenever I meet a blogger. You need to understand this, these are people I actually know. I've met their minds, the selves they've presented to the world, but I've never met them physically. Now here we are, in real life, and now we two, so accustomed to virtual interaction, must content with the physical actuality of one another. Already friends, but also meeting for the first time. This is what technology has made of us. If I ever make a WPBT, parts of my wiring will likely short-circuit permanently from the existential tango. Much like a first encounter with the vast pokeresquitude of the Amazon room, I try to approach this madness for which my senses are unprepared with seeming nonchalance. I have no idea to what extent I was successful. Mitch was the third blogger I've ever met (to answer the question you're likely asking, 1. Hoy and 2. Pauly), and it was odd, the oddness alleviated significantly by the fact that Mitch is about the most laid back and friendly sort of person you could ever hope to meet. Obviously a person comfortable in his own skin, obviously somebody who knew their way around The Poker. I was me. You'll have to ask Mitch what that's all about. Probably I'm not quite the same as the person I am on the page. Perhaps I'm not at all the same, I don't know. I try to act all cool and shit here on the page. In real life, I'm much more stammer-y and awkward.

Mitch bought me a beer from one of the stands out in the hallway, and showed me around. We went to the actual Amazon ballroom (where I saw my first real live Poker Pro Celebrity: Eskimo Clarke) and took me up into the stands of the main stage (colloquially known as the Mother Ship), the sort of neon fever dream that Regis Philbin must have had after eating unrefrigerated taquitos and pulling a 20 hr. shift on the set of Who Wants to be a Millionaire?

Who wants to be a millionare? Friggin everybody in this whole town. Specifically anybody in this particular room. We'd all come from around the country, around the world, from other dimensions (I'm thinking now primarly of Phil Laak) for precisely that purpose. Mitch and I watched part of the final table. I recognized Elky. He didn't recognize me. A row of studious sorts typed furiously at their laptops. I knew by the odds that at least one of them was probably a friend of mine, but I had no idea which ones. Pauly I'd have known, but I didn't see Pauly. If I had seen him, I would no more have approached him than I'd have tried to take a steak from a Laplander's food dish. These people were focused.

It was time to buy in. Event 48. We walked to the...what was it? Not the cage. Or at least, not a traditional cage. I laid down 13 crisp one hundred dollar bills and two that were kind of folded up and mangy-looking. I'd prepared myself for this moment. An act of insanity. A flushing of fifteen hundred. I could afford it -- but why would I afford it?

I had wondered that to myself, in the months leading up to that moment, as it all came into focus and became real to me.

I've wondered it many times in the months thereafter.

The best answer I can devise is this:

Because.

Because I guess I am a poker player of some kind. And because if you're a poker player of any kind, eventually you come here, to this place. Hopefully with your eyes open. I think mine were. As I laid down the bills. I knew my chances, even if I were much more skilled than the field. Not good. And yet, for whatever reason, this is what I felt compelled to do. Even though I knew it was likely that the money was gone -- even though in fact I had already considered it gone in my financial thinking over a month prior -- I still felt good about it. I still do.

I am Julius_Goat. I've played in the World Series of Poker.

The Breaking Of The Fellowship

2011-11-06T22:29:00.000-08:00

I'll stay a week or two/I'll stay the summer through/But I am telling you/I must be going
-Groucho Marx

_________

Andy Rooney outlived poker blogs. Sad, but true.

"Don't worry. You can still follow me at
@OuchMyLungsggglllrrrrgghle.twitter.com"

I frequently survive on limited sleep. It's the way I'm wired. This comes in handy when you like to write but you have many daytime responsibilities, but it also opens you up to any number of interesting anthropological environments. By way of example, let me suggest to you a sight well-known to the collegiate amnesiac; the party after the party has fallen apart. Four AM after a rage reveals a grotesquery of detritus and incriminating evidence; floors sticky from cheap beer spillage, empty cases torn open and sodden in the corner, new stains on the carpeting, a half-passed out unfortunate on the couch with clown features and obscenities Sharpied onto his face. It'll be fun for him when he wakes up and runs to his scheduled meeting with his girlfriend's parents, failing to realize that he's been festively festooned.

That's us, now, poker bloggery poking around the leavings of the party, ever since the fuzz showed up on tax day, two thousand eleven, and cut the head right off of online poker in the United States. The fun was here, but now all that's left is carnage. It's OK. Parties have to end. But it's always a shame when they end because the cops came to break it up. It's even worse when what the cops find is worse than what you'd thought.

What's become of us, anyway? Remember blogging? Remember when everybody was writing long-form pieces and commenting and starting blogger drama and all the whatnot with the whadyacallit? Sure, I know that we still have Pai Gow and slots and pokies at the WPBT gatherings in winter, but come on. This was always a virtual group, especially for those of us who don't get over Vegas way that much. And sure, we're still out there in the tubes, in one form or another, but our linchpin was the ability to play cards together, and that's gone, baby, gone. We're all drifting our own ways, and one by one, many of us are slipping off unnoticed. Nowadays, on the increasingly infrequent times I fire up Blogger to make it happen I feel like the guy picking through the beer cans and taking the cap off the Sharpie.

"Um, yeeeah. I'd love to read your novel. Um, I just, um...hey,
what's that behind you?"

I'm writing a lot, these days. At this pace, I'll have a novel in a year or so, and I am quite happy with the quality of what I've pulled out of me so far. This is very exciting news to me, if to nobody else. It's easy to write in these morning hours after the party has passed, but I still miss the revel that preceded it. I think of some of the things that I posted in this space as the best I've yet done, and I think of the support and encouragement that I found here as the main reason that I continued on. And so, as I look forward to what this blog will become, I find that today I come to bury and praise Caesar, to remember what was.

Remember a whole week full of blogger tournaments? MATH followed by Skillz followed by the Mookie/Dank followed by something or other followed by the Donkament? Remember? Remember when we could play online games in a reputable online casino? A whole night's fun for a lousy ten bucks and all the chat you could type? Remember Waffles, or Maniac35784 as he liked to be known? Remember tilting him and then jawing for hours about it? Remember calling all-in with the JackAce just in hopes that Hoy would expend 10,567 words on your idiocy the next morning?

Let's remember all of the blogs that have gone dark, or at least gray. If I forget you here, don't feel bad, which you won't. You don't read blogs anymore anyway. So few outside established media writers are left and still putting out regular posts. If I am still in touch with a blogger regularly these days, it is doubtless through Twitter or perhaps Facebook. Nothing against that platform, but man. What happened to the other one? Did we have to offshore everything to the social media circus?

Remember Fuel? Iakaris? JJOK? Katitude? Jecmiid? SNGMachine? Kajagugu? Raisin' Cayne? GCox? Riggstad? Skiddoo? Miami Don? Bayne? Up For Poker? Al Can't Freaking Hang?

Hey, if you're on that list and you want me to link you, just hit me up in the chat and I'll oh yeah nobody really cares if they get linked to their blog anymore.

Hey guys, remember Uberposts? Come back to the five and dime, Blogfather, Blogfather.On second thought, don't. There's no poker to discuss, anyway. Let's just chill on Twitter. I'll retweet your back if you'll retweet mine.

"Co-mingling player funds? That's as frightening
as one of Gimli's mutton farts."

Remember when Chris Ferguson and Howard Lederer and Rafe Furst were unquestionably stand-up guys? Remember Full Tilt? I miss Full Tilt. I miss thinking it was what I thought it was. I bet I'm not alone on that. Now I don't even get to remember it the way I remembered it. Did that make sense? If not, no matter. I'm insane half the time now anyway.

So the question becomes, what happens next? I am pretty sure I owe you months of awesome and crazy. I think it's probably time for Retroactive Oscars of the 80s. I even have some rather unusual ideas about this book I'm writing. Look, I've been in this space for five years as of New Year's Day 2012. I've got no intention of stopping just because I've got nothing left to say about poker.

Nothing? Well, not entirely nothing. I guess I'd better start by belatedly telling you about my WSOP. Stay tuned, and stick around.

Blink

2011-09-09T21:45:00.000-07:00

For the first time ever, I have re-watched the footage. I told myself that this would be the day I’d do it. I think this was it for me. I don’t need to see that again.

I was sitting at my desk, working in the same historical-district house I work in today; working on the beginnings of a project that still consumes chunks of my days, in fact. The difference is that then I the new guy. I hadn’t been there for slightly more than a decade. I’d been there for three whole weeks.

The house is one of those old large-frame Victorian numbers that were built to hold a family back when a family was fourteen kids, and grandma, too. We were scattered throughout it, and I was in what must once have been the living room. People had lived their lives right where I sat, listening to music and editing a series of dry documents. Occasionally, the flash of an IM window from a co-worker in another part of the house. The chatter of the day. Blink. Blink. Blink.

Did you transfer the regs file?

Yeah.
Check this link out. Funny stuff.

People had lived their lives, right where I sat. Gone now. I wasn’t thinking of that. I was thinking of deadlines. The light blinked, an instant message.

Somebody flew a plane into the World Trade Center.

I typed back:

Drunk?

Of course I knew about the attempt on the towers back in 1993. The one that failed; of course it had failed. The idea, to take down the twin towers, was laughable. I wasn’t even thinking of that. I was thinking a one-engine plane with a drunk or suicidal pilot. I was thinking minor damage.

I went back to work.

About a half hour, another blink.

The tower is on fire. It's spreading.

Out of control?

Yeah. They can’t get people out. People are jumping.

How much damage can a little plane do? I thought. Unnerved, but with nothing else to do, I went back to work. Happy for the distraction. Five minutes later, blink:

Another plane hit the other tower.

What?

My headphones were still on. At that moment, I heard the words that still make me feel cold:

Can’t stop what’s coming. Can’t stop what is already here.

That’s when I quit work for the day. It was around 10:00 AM.

I watched the towers go down with my new co-workers, still strangers to me. We watched from a small television that my new boss had kept in an empty room we were using for storage. We watched hundreds of firemen running in. A hundred times we saw the plane hitting the second tower. The towers lit up like candles, like torches. Any hope that this may have been some grotesque accident was lost as we heard that the Pentagon had been hit. Everybody thought, but nobody said, Just how many commercial aircraft are in the air at any given time, anyway? There was speculation that perhaps, probably not, but perhaps, the towers might collapse if the fires weren’t put out. It seemed silly. The damage was immense, but once the fire was put out…

Then, blink, blink, one and then the other of the towers came down in a waterfall of smoke, and everything shifted. In that moment, we left one world and entered into the reality in which we now find ourselves.

In a previous life, my boss had been a Customs broker, hustling for business in those towers. “There was literally nowhere in the world like it,” he’d tell me, later. “You could go there for four hours and have twenty meetings. You could leave with your next year’s clients.” When the first tower went down he made a sound unlike any I’ve heard anybody else make before. The sort of sound you make, perhaps, when your father is shot in front of you, or when you see a child hit by a mortar shell. The sound of atrocity beyond words. The sound you make when something impossibly bad occurs, when the floorboards of reality turn to quicksand.

In way, I feel as though he groaned for us all in that moment, as something foundational happened to the collective ‘us’. I felt a quiet numbness go over me. Nobody knew anything, and I knew even less than they did. If this could happen, then anything could happen. This could be it, I remember thinking. This could actually be it. If this happened today, what might happen tomorrow?

Before, we couldn’t conceive of such a thing happening, and that was our weakness. Sometimes you can’t stop what is coming.

Now, we can conceive of little else, and that is our weakness. All we want, quite understandably, is Not That Again, and at times it appears that no price will be too high for even a hint of a promise of a chance at Not That Again. Sometimes, you can’t stop what is already here.

I don’t remember driving home, but since I eventually found myself home, I suppose I must have. I sat on the couch and waited for my wife to wake up. A nurse, she worked the night shift.

She woke up and came out of our room into the living room. Me, sitting on the couch, in a different universe.

“Hey,” she said. “How was your day?”

The Greatest Movie Character of 1990-1999 004: Round 1, Heat 4

2011-08-29T06:10:00.000-07:00

Clarice Starling Division - Round 1, Heat 4

Vote At FilmChaw

______________________________________________

Eric Draven, The Crow

You're killed by a group of thugs after watching them rape and murder the love of your life the night before your wedding. What does one do? They come back from the dead with preternatural powers and one of the most iconic makeup jobs of moviedom and take revenge, obviously.

The Crow was an instant cult hit. It hurled "goth" into the mainstream (again), launched a hit for the Stone Temple Pilots, and made Brandon Lee a legend. Yes, his tragic death on-set contributed largely to both his status and the film's success, but Eric Draven could have well launched him out of bad B-movie action and into the mainstream. The character was SO successful that it was brought back for 3 sequels and an upcoming remake, even though the actor who portrayed the protagonist was long gone.

Crow masks were everywhere, t-shirts were sold like mad, WCW ripped the character right off when it remade Sting in his image. The black-and-white harlequin that was a reborn Eric Draven was inescapable. Here was the ultimate anti-hero on a mission of righteous vengeance - unstoppable, superpowered, and tortured.

Let's face it, if Micky Knox had killed Shelly, Draven would have made short of work of him. 17 years later, that face is still cool, and people still know what it means - sometimes, good people come back to get the justice denied them in life.

- Astin

Mickey Knox, Natural Born Killers

(Note: Riggstad is busy campaigning for Barack Obama 2012. . If he gets a spare moment, he'll give us his take on Mickey Knox. In the meantime, we'll just point out that Mickey Knox is a well-acted character in an iconic movie, not some drippy emo Robert Smith from The Cure wannabe who can't even take a single bullet. Vote accordingly.)

______________________________________________

Tommy DeVito, Goodfellas

"Are you kidding me? Are you f***ng kidding me? Who is this crewcut retard they're sending out here to whack me? To whack me? With his little f***ng golf clubs and his little f***ng opera man voice, listen to him, sounds like he's gonna cry, get outta here ya little f***ng ****kn***gler*** of a gl****blerch**** before I wrap that mothercr***ng golf club around your ugly little Caddyshack pl***unking head for you, you f***ng cry***ler****gle. I'll show you a hole in one, you fu*k*ng larchbl****ck, call ya mother and I'll show her a hole in one and my f**king hat trick, too. Now go home to Bob Barker and cry into your pillow for a week."

- Julius_Goat

Happy Gilmore, Happy Gilmore

"The price is WRONG bitch!"

I LOVE this matchup. Tommy DeVito, the foul-mouthed nutjob gangster of Goodfellas vs Happy Gilmore, the foul-mouthed nutjob golfer of, well, Happy Gilmore. Two psychos facing off, only one victor. Let's do this.

Happy Gilmore quotes:

Shooter McGavin: Just stay out of my way... or you'll pay! LISTEN to what I say!
Happy Gilmore: Hey, why don't I just go eat some hay, make things out of clay, lay by the bay? I just may! What'd ya say?

Shooter McGavin: You're in big trouble though, pal. I eat pieces of shit like you for breakfast!
Happy Gilmore: You eat pieces of shit for breakfast?
Shooter McGavin: ... No!

Terry: All you ever talk about is becoming a pro hockey player, but there's a problem: you're not any good.
Happy Gilmore: I am good. You know what, you're a lousy kindergarten teacher. I've seen those finger-paintings you bring home and they SUCK.

"You little son of a bitch ball! Why you don't you just go HOME? That's your HOME! Are you too good for your HOME? ANSWER ME! SUCK MY WHITE ASS, BALL!"

"Golf requires goofy pants and a fat ass."

"Hey, if I saw myself in clothes like that, I'd have to kick my own ass."

And of course the one at the top, spoken to one Bob Barker.

Tommy DeVito Quotes:

"Fuck you in the fucking fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck. Clown."

"I am somehow amusing like a painted-face harlequin one would find in a circus or carnival environment? I commend you on your pointed compliment sir."

Or something like that.

Both are loose cannons, ready to explode at any provocation, real or imagined. But Happy IS funny and turns what seems like a truly idiotic movie into a classic piece of comedy. This is the movie that made Adam Sandler's post-SNL career. Pesci was already known by the time Goodfellas came around, and let's face it - Pesci, De Niro, Liotta in a gangster movie directed by Scorsese? That's hard to screw up.

It's not easy to knock Tommy, so I'll go for the one area that he lacks - growth. Happy Gilmore goes from hockey playing thug who has no direction and beats up everyone into a zen master of golfing. He endures personal tragedy and comes out the other side with an acceptance and maturity that seemed unachievable at first. What? This was the template for every Sandler character? Yah, but Happy did it early, and better than his predecessor, Billy Madison. By the end of the film, Happy is still Happy, but the rough edges have smoothed a bit.

Tommy? By the end of the movie he's *SPOILER ALERT* dead. Why? Because he refused to change. He showed no capacity for growth as a person and paid the price for his hubris. This isn't a tragic death, nor a hero's death. This is the inevitable end for a violent psychopath in an environment of violence. If only he'd discovered golf.

- Astin

______________________________________________

Buzz Lightyear, Toy Story

Malcolm X was one of the most fascinating figures in the last century of U.S. history. As a movie character . . . eh, not so much.

Buzz Lightyear, on the other hand, is the sparkplug that juices one of the most successful and influential movie franchises of all times. Buzz is the heart. Buzz is the soul. Buzz is the nutball who doesn't know he's a toy, until he embraces his destiny entirely. He's the perfect toy, because he's so totally committed to the game, he doesn't always even know it is a game. Also, on Spanish setting, he's a hell of a flamenco dancer.

Vote for Buzz over Malcom, citizen. No one man should have all that power.

- Julius_Goat

Malcolm X, Malcolm X

(Note: Riggstad is on assignment with the Peace Corp, helping to save the baby seals from corporate interests. Don't judge him; he can kill you with a magazine. If he gets a spare moment, he'll give us his take on Brother Malcolm. In the meantime, we'll just say that if you can't vote for one of the most electrifying performances of the decade and one of the most amazing and uniquely American individuals of all time, instead of a cartoon toy, well, brother, you can't see the clear glass of water in front of you.)

______________________________________________

Phil Connors, Groundhog Day

My favorite movie of all time, with my favorite character of all time.

The "process of living" often gets in the way of the actual living of life. The alarm clock rings, we shovel some food in our mouth and rush off to work for 8 hours a day. Drive home, eat again, clean up. Take a shower. Maybe you squeeze a workout in there or a tv show. Head on the pillow, and the alarm clocks rings again. Shovel some more food in, off to work again.

Life can become an infinite loop of the same boring activities if you let it.

Phil: What would you do if you were stuck in one place and every day was exactly the same, and nothing that you did mattered?

Ralph: That about sums it up for me.

Like Phil Connors, we're all stuck in the same place every day. Most of us have to wake up at the same time every day, go to the same job, see the same people, and sit in the same meetings. So how do we escape this sameness? How do we embrace the routine and make our life worth living?

Like Phil, we fight. We fight against the sameness, we fight against accepting that our life consists of a routine that can imprison us. We fight for freedom and for dignity. We fight against death.

Phil Connors is a fighter, and Groundhog Day takes us through the 5 stages of accepting his own mortality.

Stage 1: Denial — "I feel fine."; "This can't be happening, not to me."

Denial is usually only a temporary defense for the individual. This feeling is generally replaced with heightened awareness of possessions and individuals that will be left behind after death.

Yeah, Sport,I know there's a blizzard.

When are the long-distance lines gonna be repaired?

What if there is no tomorrow? There wasn't one today.

Hello?

Stage 2: Anger — "Why me? It's not fair!"; "How can this happen to me?"; '"Who is to blame?"

Once in the second stage, the individual recognizes that denial cannot continue. Because of anger, the person is very difficult to care for due to misplaced feelings of rage and envy.

I was in the Virgin Islands once. I met a girl. We ate lobster, drank piña coladas. At sunset, we made love like sea otters.

*That* was a pretty good day. Why couldn't I get *that* day over, and over, and over...

Stage 3: Bargaining — "Just let me live to see my children graduate."; "I'll do anything for a few more years."; "I will give my life savings if..."

The third stage involves the hope that the individual can somehow postpone or delay death. Usually, the negotiation for an extended life is made with a higher power in exchange for a reformed lifestyle. Psychologically, the individual is saying, "I understand I will die, but if I could just have more time..."

What I wanted to say was...

              

I think you're the kindest, sweetest, prettiest person...



I've ever met in my life.

I've never seen anyone... that's nicer to people than you are.

The first time I saw you... something happened to me.

                   

I never told you, but... I knew that I wanted to hold you as hard as I could.



I don't deserve someone like you.

But if I ever could...

I swear I would love you...



for the rest of my life.

Stage 4: Depression — "I'm so sad, why bother with anything?"; "I'm going to die... What's the point?"; "I miss my loved one, why go on?"

During the fourth stage, the dying person begins to understand the certainty of death. Because of this, the individual may become silent, refuse visitors and spend much of the time crying and grieving. This process allows the dying person to disconnect from things of love and affection. It is not recommended to attempt to cheer up an individual who is in this stage. It is an important time for grieving that must be processed.

This is pitiful.

A thousand people freezing their butts off, waiting to worship a rat.

What a hype. Groundhog Day used to mean something in this town.

They used to pull the hog out and eat it!

You're hypocrites, all of you!

You got a problem with what I'm saying?

Untie your tongue, and you come out here and talk.

Am I upsetting you, Princess?

You want a prediction about the weather, you're asking the wrong Phil.

I'll give you a winter prediction.

It's gonna be cold...

it's gonna be gray...

and it's gonna last you for the rest of your life.

Stage 5: Acceptance — "It's going to be okay."; "I can't fight it, I may as well prepare for it."

In this last stage, the individual begins to come to terms with her/his mortality or that of a loved one.

When Chekhov saw the long winter...he saw a winter bleak and dark and bereft of hope.

Yet we know that winter is just another step in the cycle of life.

But standing here among the people of Punxsutawney... and basking in the warmth of their hearths and hearts...

I couldn't imagine a better fate...than a long and lustrous winter.

From Punxsutawney, it's Phil Connors.

So long.

***

The fact that Bill Murray can take us through the five stages of grief, while making us laugh really hard, is what makes his character so memorable.

-HDouble

Donald "Sully" Sullivan, Nobody's Fool

This is Paul Newman in his last great role, and it's one of his very best. More believable than Cool Hand Luke, more relateable than Fast Eddie Felson, more likable than Hud, Newman settles into the skin of perennial loser and hereditary bad father Sully like a pair of broken-in work boots, and, because he's Paul Newman, he's also the coolest guy in town (and Bruce Willis is in town). Sully lives in an old town in upstate New York that's just like him -- hard working, but everybody knows nothing will ever come of it.

Sully walked out on his wife and kids. He's got a bum knee. He doesn't have more than a couple of twenties to rub together. He let the family house rot to pieces out of spite for his old man. He'll punch a policeman rather than stop driving on the sidewalk. But he's the only guy who can coax the demented old lady off the snowy road, and he does it by charming her. He'll even help the old lady's daughter by taking over at the local diner while she tends to her mother's feet.

Here's the thing about Sully. He's a total screwup. He's about the best guy you'll ever meet.

I expect that Phil will beat Sully in this matchup. Groundhog Day is by far the more popular movie, and Murray is admittedly great in it. But if you're one of the lucky handful that has seen Nobody's Fool, I bet you are voting for Sully.

- Julius_Goat

Vote At FilmChaw

Your Weekly Dose of Awesome

2011-08-25T00:00:00.000-07:00

Don't hold back, just push things forward from Ithaca Audio on Vimeo.

Your Weekly Dose of Crazy

2011-08-24T10:22:00.000-07:00

So here's a supposedly insane thing that I'll never do in the first place.

This is perfectly safe except for literally everything.

Doodle 008

2011-08-21T21:54:00.000-07:00

This is Plato. Plato is a superhero. He can make any part of his body whatever size he wants it. He uses this innate skill to fight the forces of evil, whenever he can find it. It's not easy to find the forces of evil. You try it, sometime, and see how you like it.

Still, he's got real powers. Mass control. The only problem with this is the Law of Conservation of Mass, which Plato must follow. This means that, if he wants to make one part of his body big, he needs to make other parts of his body correspondingly small, and vice versa.

So, as you can see here, he's sporting some big ol' arms. But he had to shrink his legs down to get them.

That's how it goes when you are a superhero bound by the basic laws of physics.

I'm still pretty bad at hands. That's how it goes.

Your Weekly Dose of Awesome

2011-07-26T21:24:00.001-07:00

The Dangerous Book For Boys

2011-07-13T19:50:00.000-07:00

Another serious Formspring question that I think needs to be replicated here as a public service, what with all the witch and wizard worship in our popular culture nowadays.

_______________

My son wants to read Harry Potter, and yet I don't want him to become demon possessed. What should I do?

First of all, I really must, in all good conscience, strongly discourage you from taking this dangerous course. As everybody knows, the Harry Potter books are drenched in demons and can turn a child from a Precious Moments figurine into a latter-day Charlie Sheen within pages.

However, if you will not be persuaded, I will tell you how you might 'clean' a Harry Potter book that you get from your nearest devil-mall. (I trust you are not foolish enough to keep these books in your house!) You are going to need to perform a demonic extraction, for which you require the following items:

(1) a hydraulic vice with computerized pressure controls and digital readout

(2) an autographed picture of either Barbara Bush or Sarah Palin [1]

(3) a King James Bible

(4) first hardcover printings of the entire "Left Behind" series

(5) a vial of Glenn Beck's tears [2]

(6) a very sharp Exacto knife

(7) heavy-duty rubber gloves and respirator

(8) a welder's helmet

INSTRUCTIONS

First put on the gloves and respirator.

Next, you will want to use Glenn Beck's tears to consecrate the vise. Instructions for this can be found by inspecting the first two words of every 7th page of each of Beck's scholarly books (not the novels) in reverse order by publication date.

Next, use the knife to carefully cut out each page of your demonic Harry Potter book. Discard the cover, which is where most of the demons are found (most scientists [3] agree that there can be as many as 30, 50 or even 100 times as many demons in a cover as in a single page).

Perform the following steps for each page of each book:

Place the book between the autographed picture and the King James Bible. Place the entire grouping into the vise and tighten to exactly 77.7 psi for 7.7 hours. Put the page in between the pages of the Left Behind series, which will provide a sterile environment for the pages [4].

The pages are now almost entirely demon free! [5] Since you have no regard whatsoever for your child's soul, they may now put on the welder's helmet and read the devil-loving liberal Satan book with minimal risk of infection. (for extra safety, play some lite Christian pop music while reading).

WARNING: IT IS HIGHLY RECOMMENDED that you have your child read the pages within one day of this procedure! The pages WILL re-accrue demons by their very nature. BE SURE TO DESTROY THE PAGES WITH FLAMES IMMEDIATELY AFTER THEY ARE READ. The ashes will still be highly dangerous. Scatter them in California, because let's face it, what's the difference?

_______________________

FOOTNOTES

[1] Photos of other members of the Palin household, such as Willow, Trig, Bristol, Scratch, Fudge, and Big Country, can be used, but we recommend doubling the application time. DO NOT use a photograph of Levi Johnson.

[2] I know what you are thinking. You're thinking, "Wouldn't Ronald Reagan's tears be more effective?" The answer is, of course, yes. Ronald Reagan's tears obviously would be much more effective, but if you think allowing your brats to read an Evil Book is a good use of our country's greatest treasure, then you go march over to the Heritage Foundation and tell them why you want to stop making the country safe from Muslim vampires. That's what I thought.

[3] We mean of course real scientists, not common charlatans and voodoo doctors. For purposes of clarity, we define 'real scientists' as 'scientists who consulted on the Creationist Museum.'

[4] Remember to throw away the Left Behind books after this process. Though sterile, they will have absorbed trace quantities of demonic influence and thus may now contain watermarked images of Barack Obama.

[5] According to FDA regulations which allow up to 3 parts per 10 million of demon in printed materials. If that's good enough for you, then by all means let your child expose themselves to JK Rowling's Instruction Manual For Little Satanists.

The South Also Rises

2011-07-08T09:06:00.000-07:00

Note: I didn't include this Q&A from my latest Formspring round-up for a few reasons. First, it's really really long, and that post was long enough already. Secondly, it's totally different in tone from the typical sardonic smart-assery and I figured it would be jarring. But finally, I really am curious what people think about this issue, and in particular I want to be educated about what Southerners think about the Civil War today. So have at it, Southerners.

Are you still doing political-type questions? Because i have one. On NPR today a guy said, Violence was the only way to end slavery, because pacifism wasn't going to work." As a pacifist, i want to disagree. Opinions?

Before getting to the meat of the question, there are a few points that need to be made for clarification.

First, we have sadly been learning more and more about how alive slavery is today, so it very unfortunately can't be said that slavery has been ended in the world. I presume the caller was referring to the violence of the Civil War, and the ending of legally recognized institutionalized slavery in the United States.

It should also be pointed out that the Civil War was not technically fought over slavery -- it was fought over the secession of the Confederate states, and the federal government's unwillingness to allow them to do it. Of course, the trigger for secession itself was the abolition of slavery represented by the Emancipation Proclamation, so clearly slavery was involved, but it is a point worth making that the war itself was not directly fought over slavery.

However, it is clear that it took the Civil War to stop secession, bring the seceding slave-holding states back into the Union (some slave-holding states did not secede), and end slavery at that particular moment in time. So I think it needs to be conceded even by staunch pacifists that it took violence to end institutionalized slavery in the United States at that particular time.

What would have happened without violence? It's pretty much impossible to say, but I think we can make a few fairly safe assumptons.

First, slavery would have continued in the Confederate States of America for a period of time following secession. How long is a total guess, but I would have to think, given how violently civil rights was contested in the United States (and particularly in the South) up until the 1960s, that it would have been many decades, maybe even a century.

Secondly, it seems almost unfathomable that slavery would not have ended in the Confederacy at some point. Even by the early 1800s, many European nations were outlawing slavery. Britain in particular was entering into dozens (I think) of pacts with various countries to end or curtail the slave trade. By the 1860s, the world mood was generally one of abolition, with the United States one of several notable holdouts. So imagine if you will the level of animosity, sanction, and pressure leveled by the international political and economic community against a nation in (let's say) 1971 that still believed in buying and selling human beings as though they were livestock, which is essentially what they were under the law. Imagine South African circa 1980, but worse. It's hard to imagine a country not caving in to this pressure eventually, via comparatively more peaceful means, as South Africa did. And of course, then would begin the long and tumultuous process of Jim Crow laws and segregation and institutionalized racism and disenfranchisement -- but five or seven or fifteen decades behind schedule, and with all that extra corrosive water under the bridge, to boot.

(Incidentally, if any of my Southern friends would like to educate me on the true causes and motivations behind the War of Northern Aggression, and why they think -- if they do think this -- that the South being allowed to secede would have been a long-term good thing for the South, I am quite sincerely all ears. It seems like it would have been a total friggin' disaster for the Confederacy.)

So, I don't think that I would agree with that NPR caller that violence was necessary to end legal institutionally recognized slavery in the United States. Justice will win in the end. It's sort of a tortoise and the hare thing. Violence was 'merely' necessary to end it right at that moment in history. But the ramifications of letting that string play out would have been momentous, and logically it seems unlikely that the effects would have been positive. Ask a descendant of slavery if they think it would have been favorable to keep that institution around for another 70 years or so. Be careful how you word the question, though.

But more than that, it's possible that the world that we now inhabit, so hostile to slavery, might not exist in the same form today that it now does. To give just one obvious example, during the amazing upheavals of the two World Wars, the United States as it was composed would not exist. We would have been two countries -- one industrialized, urban, and perhaps like the United States as we understand it to have been at that time, but certainly greatly diminished by its loss, and the other agrarian, slave-holding, and as a result almost certainly alienated from other European countries (such as France and particularly Britain), with whom we aligned ourselves in those conflicts, and perhaps, just maybe, more amenable to a doctrine of race purity. It's difficult to know what worlds may have turned upon the decision to go to war with the Confederacy over secession.

That is a lot of speculation, especially at the end. But I don't think I'm going too far afield with it. I think we pacifists may have to wrestle with the fact that sometimes a thing is so unjust that ending it immediately is the best outcome, even if violence is the tool used to arrive at that outcome.

Then again, without violence, perhaps something even better would have occurred. It just doesn't seem likely.

To answer your other question: Yes. I'm still answering political questions.

As always, your questions answered here.

Your Weekly Dose of Awesome

2011-07-07T04:14:00.000-07:00

OK, this guy is crazy. Either he wins the respect and admiration of a small group of competitive belly-flop aficionados, or he breaks his everything bone.

But the fact that this is even possible? Awesome. Damn, physics. You all right.

Your Weekly Dose of Crazy

2011-07-06T04:04:00.000-07:00

(Infomercial + organ music/0.25 speed)glow effect = creeping dread.

Best of Formspring 003

2011-07-05T00:00:00.000-07:00

Once again, actual questions by one or (maybe) more actual people.

Want to get your questions answered in a similarly glib or obsessive manner?

Just click here.

___________________

Bigger threat to humanity: 10 flesh-eating butterflies, or 100 metal-eating butterflies?

This is seriously an excellent question. However many of you are asking questions out there, realize that the bar has once again been set.

OK, let's delve into this. Here's what we need to figure out:

1) What are humans made of?

2) Is it good for humans to be eaten?

If humans are made of metal, or if being eaten is by and large good for humanity, then I'd be inclined to call the metal-eating butterflies the greatest threat. If the opposite turns out to be true, then I'd have to say flesh-eating.

But not so fast! There are other questions to consider!

1) How much flesh can a flesh-eating butterfly eat?

2) How much metal can a metal-eating butterfly eat?

3) How big is each type of butterfly?

4) How aggressive is each type of butterfly? Do they ONLY eat metal or flesh, respectively, or can they eat other things? How much do they want to eat metal or flesh, respectively.

We're going to need these answers before I make a definitive statement on this. I mean, normally a bunch of butterflies running around eating the flesh off our bones in a crazy flesh-eating swarm would seem to pose a much bigger threat than a bit of metal being eaten. ON THE OTHER HAND a flesh-eater that lands, munches a single dead skin cell, and then flies off would be nothing next to a monstrosity the size of a 747 eating the Golden Gate Bridge.

And may God have mercy on us all.

yo yo yo yo yo where me peeps at yo?

I am trying to figure out if you are a pirate or Flava Flav. Or is Flava Flav a pirate? Can we get a ruling on this?

What are you doing for the 4th?

I plead the 5th.

If James Madison (president in 1812) and William Howard Taft (president in 1912) were able to run in 2012 - who would win?

I'm pretty sure that William Howard Taft was never able to run. Have you seen a picture of that guy?

Would you rather take a personal check , or a check personal?

Listen, let me tell you something. If you can't spot the personal check within one hour of sitting down, you ARE the personal check.

Did you know you had a cult following in japan?

Is this like a Germany/Hasselhoff thing? Because if I find out I have one more thing in common with Hasselfhoff, I'm legally entitled to some of his "Knight Rider" residual checks.

Who writes your material?

All my material is lovingly calligraphied by Oompa Loompas.

Re donuts healthier than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick?

I think I am accidentally being CC'd on your memos to either the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man or Charlie Manson. Either way, I'd like off this Listserv.

Do unsalted pretzels go to the same heaven salted ones do?

Unsalted pretzels go to hell, as Jesus said, "Every one will be salted with fire. Salt is good, but if it loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with each other."

Uh oh. I've gone crazy again.

What to you is the most erotic part of a lawnmower?

This is a fantastic question. The old "are you a blade man or are you a pull cord man?" Personally, I'm into every part of the lawnmower, but I really get turned on by the grass bag.

can you make us laugh? can you make us cry?

Yes. And I can do both with a hammer.

Some people want to fill the world with silly love songs. What's wrong with that?

Nothing, nothing at all. But let me ask you this, smart guy. When the world is full of these love songs, where will I put my shoes?

How was your uneventful trip to Pakistan?

You misheard me. I visited my UNCLE Stan. What's weird is that Osama bin Laden was there.

What do you think about "everybody draw Mohammed day" on Facebook? did you join the group yet?

I don't have a ton of thoughts about it. On the one hand, I think in a free society all free speech, even (especially) free speech that some find offensive, is and must be protected, and violent reactions, even to the most offensive of speech, are always inappropriate. On the other, I think it is wise, appropriate, and just plain good manners not to offend that which is sacred to others. I certainly support the "Everybody Draw Mohammad Day" Facebook page participant's right to take part, but I have no intention of doing so.

Do you believe in fairies?

You're not getting a gay joke out of me, fella.

What's your favorite nursery rhyme?

Baby Got Back

what if god was one of us?

Then he'd owe Joan Osbourne royalties. I think the more interesting question is: What if God were one of THEM?

Are you experienced?

No, I won't be experienced until I've finished becoming perienced. The periencing process is long and arduous, but at the end I will get a cherry 81 Chevette that has only been puked in one time!

How would you go about taking the measurement of a stick?

First, I'd get the stick and affix it firmly in a vice. Then, I'd get myself a good quality measuring tape. Then I'd get the fire ants. I'd glue the fire ants one by one in a long line, noticing how many fire ants made up a foot/inch/cm, and so forth. Then I'd have a sandwich. Then I'd hold the fire ant stick against the stick I was measuring, count the ants, and make the needed calculations.

Once I knew the answer, I'd probably tell the king, so he knew if his stick was long enough for the limbo contest. And then, I don't know, I guess I'd just go hang out with the court jester or something.

favorite Simpsons episodes?

That is like asking me which is my favorite child. In both cases, the answer is "Homer vs. Sexual Harassment."

If you were in the army, what rank do you think you could reach?

Rank Amateur.

If you were in the navy, what rank do you think you could reach?

Master Chief Blinky McGurk

Who's your favorite religious leader?

Cotton Mathers is a favorite, but I think we're sometimes a little hard on his son, Jerry.

How much will you pay for a handful of magic beans?

I will pay you up to $4 million, depending on the quality and effect of the magic. However, I can only pay you in alchemy or . I have a philosopher's stone that has been valued at $3.8 million using the Sale of Identical or Similar Merchandise appraisement method as stipulated in CFR 51 (Wizards) Part 405.61(c)(i). The other $200 grand I can get you in butterbeer and animal husbandry services from Hagrid. He's not too bright, but at least he's clumsy.

Is eating cheese moral?

Probably not. But eating mushrooms are morel.

The world is being attacked by zombies, unicorns, and bedbugs. Who wins?

The world. Zombies and unicorns are natural enemies and would just fight each other to death, and as everybody knows, there's no such thing as bedbugs.

If you eat goat cheese is that a form of cannibalizism or it is like mother's milk to you?

It's a common misconception that I am actually a goat. I know this will come as a shocker to some of you, but my actual name is not "Julius Goat." In real life I am known as "Julia's Coat." Hope this clears that up.

The Greatest Movie Character of 1990-1999 004: Round 1, Heat 3

2011-07-03T21:11:00.000-07:00

Clarice Starling Division - Round 1, Heat 3

Vote At FilmChaw

______________________________________________

Jules Winfield, Pulp Fiction

Well this is change - I have the top seed with Jules from Pulp Fiction. Granted, Red is no push-over, but a mild-mannered Morgan Freeman versus Samuel L. Jackson's defining role? The edge has to go with Jules.

I'm going to make an assumption here: no matter who you are, you are at least familiar with Pulp Fiction. It can be argued it was THE movie of the 90's. Even if you haven't seen the movie, you know some key moments -- Marcellus Wallace about to go medieval; The Wolf fixing the problem of the dead... guy... in the back seat; what will happen to every motherfucking last one of ya if any of you fucking pricks move; and just about everything that came out of Jules Winnfield's mouth. He quotes bible verse when bringing retribution, he is amused by the names for hamburgers in France's McDonald's, he enjoys a Big Kahuna Burger, you know which wallet is his, and he is more than capable of breaking your concentration.

Jules, like so many great characters is not only complex, but grows as we watch him. Our first real experience with him is discussing the eroticism of foot massages, immediately followed by him becoming the baddest motherfucker you've ever seen blowing away a group of minor-league thieves. The pontification that comes from him prior to the massacre is some of the most casually intimidating bad-assery ever captured on film. Then to cap it off, he dodges bullets without moving. This moment causes a spiritual awakening in the most feared hit man in Los Angeles. As the day progresses, we see that he is more than a cold-blooded assassin. He knows who his friends are, and when to contain his fury. Jimmie epically chews him out for bringing the car to his house, and Jules knows he deserves it, and takes it, when he could just tell Jimmie to sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up. He debates the merits of pork with his partner. He knows what the Wolf says goes without question. By the end, he's not only realized that he has had the meaning of his favorite quote turned around this entire time, but that he could still be the biggest bad-ass motherfucker you know while helping people, instead of limiting himself to crime. His juxtaposition with the nearly as erudite, yet blank-faced Vincent drives home the depth of possibly the most iconic characters of the 90's.

- Astin

Red, The Shawshank Redemption

Best film character? Well, now, let me see. You know, I don’t have any idea what that means. I know what you think it means, sonny. To me, it’s just a made up term. A hit man’s word, sonny. Young fellas like yourself can wear a black suit and a tie and kill some folks, and think you have a job. So now you come in and quote at me. Bible? You can save it, sonny. Old difference between you and me is I'm sitting below you. And you know it.

What do you really want to know? Am I sorry that the heart and soul of one of the decade's best movies went in the sixteenth round? The very last pick? There’s not a day goes by I don’t feel regret. Not because I gotta face your silly jerri curled ass. Because you think I should. I look back on the way I was picked. Four young, stupid kids who couldn't see true quality until the very end. I want to talk to them. I want to try to talk some sense to them. Tell them the way things are. But I can’t. The draft's long gone and this old man’s all that’s left. Do you know my buddy Andy went first pick? First? I got to live with that. Best film character? Best? That’s just a bullshit word. So you go on and walk the earth, and let the people vote in the poll, sonny, and stop wasting my time. Because, to tell you the truth, I don’t give a shit.
- Julius_Goat

______________________________________________

Dignan, Bottle Rocket

Back in 1994, Wes Anderson and Owen Wilson were making their first film. From the Jacques-Cousteau caps to the red jumpsuits to the retro casio keyboard music, all of Anderson's movies make audio and visual references to his childhood, which took place in America in the late 80s. Anderson is known for his careful storyboarding of scripts, so it's no accident that his films look like something else that would be familiar to a child of the 80s: comic books.

In his first film, Anderson had not yet completely developed his unique visual aesthetic, but his desire to capture things from his childhood was obvious. The film opens with Dignan (Owen Wilson) "rescuing" his friend Anthony (Luke Wilson) from a voluntary mental hospital. Anthony: Ah, whew. Well, see my friend Dignan didn’t realize that this was a voluntary hospital, and he got this whole escape thing worked out. And he just got so excited about the thing, I didn’t have the heart to tell him “no”…that uh…Look how excited he is. I gotta do it this way, Dr. Nichols. I gotta climb out. It’s only one floor down.

Throughout the movie, Anderson shows us a twenty-something boy who is struggling to adapt to the world of adult responsibility. Dignan refuses to give up on his childhood dreams, and you get the feeling that he was once reigned his neighborhood as king of fort-building and the game of cops and robbers. Here is a guy with grand plans, a guy whose meager landscaping job is only cover for his budding career as a master thief.

Growing up in the 80s in suburban America taught us how to be ambitious. Everybody wanted to grow up to be president, and if that wasn't your thing, then you wanted to be a professional athlete, a doctor, or a lawyer. As we grew up, these ambitions died or changed into something more pragmatic, and we lost sight of our childhood dreams.

Dignan didn't. Stuck in a suburb filled with characters who represent a life without passion, Dignan lives his dream of orchestrating a great robbery, even if that robbery takes place at "Hinckley Cold Storage." Dignan is the dreamer, the idealist, someone who follows his ridiculous dream despite the many pragmatic reasons that indicate he shouldn't.

Because he follows his passion and attempts to realize his dream, Dignan ends up in prison. But in the final scene, Dignan mocks himself for his failed ambition, suggesting that a passionate life ending in a jail sentence is better than a comfortable existence without dreams. Better to burn out than to fade away.

Dignan: Pause. Uh, we did it though, didn’t we?

Anthony: Yeah. All laugh. Yeah we did it all right.

Scene cuts to jail entrance. Anthony and Bob are walking with Dignan in a prison line. A fence separates Dignan and the prisoners from Anthony and Bob.

Dignan: Well, thank you for coming.

Anthony: It’s good seeing you.

Dignan: Looking around. Did you bring that grappling hook?

Bob: Grappling hook?

Dignan: Don’t worry about it. I think I may have found a way out of here.

Anthony: You’re kidding

Dignan: No, I’m not.

Anthony: How?

Dignan: Shhh! Wait for my instructions. When we go through the next gate, you will have 30 seconds to take out the tower guard.

Anthony: What?

Dignan: 30 seconds. Have the car running at the North West checkpoint. Bob and I are going to scale the barricade.

Bob: No, we’re not.

Dignan: And then we’re going to cut through to no man’s land, and Bob, remember, shield me from the bullets. They won’t shoot civilians. Are you ready?

Bob: Hold on, man.

Anthony: Wait a second, Dignan.

Dignan: Let’s go! Let’s go! Now! Now! Now! Changes tone to playful. Isn’t funny how you used to be in the nuthouse and now I’m in jail.

They all laugh. Dignan walks away into the distance.

Besides the movie's sophisticated intellectual message, Dignan is one of the funniest, most quotable movie characters of all time.

***

Anthony: Maybe we should've robbed your house. You ever think of that?

Dignan: You know there's nothing to steal from my mom and Craig!

***

Bob: Wha - why is there tape on your nose?

Dignan: Exactly!

***

Dignan: Why are you here right now? You're always at lunch at this time!

Workers: Not always.

Dignan: Yes! Always!

***

Kumar: Man, I blew it. I blew it, man.

Anthony: Kumar, what were you doing in the freezer?

Kumar: I don't know, man, I lose my touch, man.

Dignan: Did you ever have a touch to lose, man?

***

Dignan was the first in a series of Anderson's unique characters that resonate long after the movie has ended. Without Dignan, we wouldn't have been able to fly kites with Max Fischer, roam the seas with Steve Zissou, or ride go-carts with Royal Tanenbaum. The existentialists insist that a life without passion isn't worth living, and Dignan is the prototype of the passionate-yet-misguided hero who is doomed to failure, but makes the lives of those surrounding him more exciting and fulfilling. Living with passion, on the edge, trying to achieve a goal that is seemingly impossible -- these are the characters that make for great heroes:

Dignan: Here are just a few of the key ingredients: dynamite, pole vaulting, laughing gas, choppers - can you see how incredible this is going to be? - hang gliding, come on!

So, come on! Listen to the voice of your inner dreamer and vote for Dignan.

PS. Derek Vinyard is a Nazi.

-HDouble

Derek Vinyard, American History X

Obviously, this isn't about likability. This may be (at least before the rather unbelievable turnaround) one of the five most despicable people in the tourney. But character? One of the most fascinating.

So come on, Dignan. Put your mouth on the curb.

- Julius_Goat

______________________________________________

Little Bill Daggett, Unforgiven

This was an odd pick for me. Unforgiven is one of my favorite movies (and Clint Eastwood is one of my favorite actors), but I picked Little Bill over William Munny deliberately because Gene Hackman puts on such a fabulous performance really showing the depth of this character. Which turns out is pretty shallow.

Little Bill is a lawman who proactively dispenses justice by force. His strategy is to beat down anyone who doesn't follow his rule. NO FIREARMS within city limits, and don't dare jaywalk either because Little Bill has a propensity for violence when deterring, well, violence. His methods are beautiful, and if he even thinks that you're a bad guy, before doing anything to prove your criminality, you're getting a beat down. It's also coming in front of as many people as possible because he wants to prove a point.

An ill-tempered man, "maybe you should hang the carpenter" may just be the line that gets you killed. However he does show restraint against the weak and stupid. He also shows zero hesitation or regret when meeting his own demise.

Little Bill is a man's man, living the way he does among the harsh western life where anyone can turn criminal in a blink of an eye. He controls his town, and as harsh as his methods are, the town accepts it to ensure their safety from outsiders.

Duck I says!

-Riggstad

Truman Burbank, The Truman Show

my teacher was a television

taught me how to talk and who to be

everything's an exhibition

everyone just acts like they're on tv

everyone is always pretending

acting like our lives are scripted

everyone wants a happy ending

paranoia conspiracy

today the spotlight hit me

voices on the radio

maybe i'm just going crazy

but I swear there's something I don't know

everyone is looking for money

their smiles look almost real

whatever makes you happy

but this lifestyle's not for me

and now I'm stuck in this movie

all money and product placement

who am I supposed to be

when something's not right you taste it

had enough of all of it

so I sit here in my basement

savor this isolation

find my way to my reality

why don't you all find your own way

I'm done playing the fool

make your own entertainment

I'm going and never coming back

In case I don't see you

good afternoon good evening and good night

-HDouble

______________________________________________

William Wallace, Braveheart

Here is my first round write up for Braveheart as I see it... It doesn't need much...

He's a bad ass who takes revenge on the death of his wife and then fights the good fight rallying an entire people to gain freedom.

He does it without regret or hesitation willing to do it by himself. He truly is a leader by example.

Jules (from Pulp Fiction) stole his wallet.

Deal with it...

-Riggstad

Dirk Diggler, Boogie Nights

Your choice is pretty clear. You can go with the guy with the face makeup and the kilt, or you can go with the guy who can't wear a kilt without breaking most indecency laws. Poor Braveheart, he felt so inadequate he had them take out a few feet of intestine to try to compensate.

Dirk Diggler is a major star. William Wallace? Hell, even Rob Roy managed to get a drink named after him.

- Julius_Goat

Your Weekly Dose of Awesome

2011-06-30T00:00:00.000-07:00

I tweeted this once upon a time, but it needs to be viewed by the 12 of you that still read blogs.

This guy combines tennis and Super Mario Brothers physics (and mustache).

Your Weekly Dose of Crazy

2011-06-28T00:00:00.000-07:00

All you need to know about me is that this could honestly just as easily go under "Awesome" as crazy. The spirit of Terry Gilliam animation lives.

But I have to admit. This is pretty damn crazy.

Doodle 007

2011-06-25T18:45:00.000-07:00

Your weekly dose of crazy?

Your Weekly Dose of Crazy

2011-06-23T00:00:00.000-07:00

Perhaps "Your Weekly Dose of Certain Decapitation-Based Lawsuit" would be more precise.

"Huh. Well I've been hired to create playground toys. But I hate children so, so, much. What do do, what to do . . . hold on, I think I've got it!"

Your Weekly Dose of Awesome

2011-06-21T00:00:00.000-07:00

Jaw. Floor.

Doodle 006

2011-06-20T19:02:00.000-07:00

The good news? That's a halfway decent hand.

The bad news? Apparently I cannot draw golf clubs. So maybe that guy is just carrying around a shower head on a stick or something.

Doodle 005

2011-06-19T22:35:00.000-07:00

Again, note the lack of hands. I think I'll try hands with the next one.

Goat At The WSOP

2011-06-13T19:35:00.000-07:00

One of the first times I ever heard about poker, my mom was telling me that it's how my dad paid for their honeymoon.

Money? For a card game?

Apparently my dad had managed to snag enough money to take his bride on an nice little trip, for nothing but apparently being good at a card game. I was intrigued.

When I first started playing poker online, my hopes were simple. I wanted to take my bride on a trip. And I wanted to play in the WSOP.

I got my cashout from PokerStars last month. In September, we go on a Caribbean cruise.

And in a couple weeks I am going to go play in Event 48 of the WSOP. I even have my card capper (a 1978 Dodge Dart) picked out. Hopefully there will be many entertaining blog posts and tweets. If you are in town, let me know. I'll have a mustache painted on so you'll know it's me.

I am fully aware that this is a crazy and foolish thing to do. My wife is a beautiful person for being willing to let me do something crazy and foolish like this, just because I have decided that I enjoy this dumb card game and want to take a tilt at a windmill. I'm sort of looking forward to it.

Wish me luck.

ETA - Image from Dave Sim's great Cerebus collection High Society, which you should buy and read.

Doodle 004

2011-06-07T03:08:00.000-07:00

The pawn is the one that says "Bad Mofo" on it.

Doodle 003

2011-06-01T19:00:00.000-07:00

There is some debate over whether this is Einstein or David Crosby. You make the call.

Note the crossed arms allow me to avoid drawing hands.

Clicking will embiggen? Only one way to find out!

Doodle 002

2011-05-31T19:41:00.000-07:00

I'm not really trying to make any commentary on The Sheen. This is just what came out of my brain today. Also, I cannot draw hands very well. Working on it.

Click to make big-like.

Doodle 001

2011-05-30T20:02:00.000-07:00

So I think maybe I'll just doodle for 15 minutes from time to time and put it up here.

Enjoy, maybe?

The Greatest Movie Character of 1990-1999 004: Round 1, Heat 2

2011-05-24T17:40:00.000-07:00

Mia Wallace Division - Heat 2

Vote At FilmChaw

______________________________________________

The Jesus, The Big Lebowski

This is very much like The Highlander. There can only be one Jesus in this tournament. I don't think I'm being over-confident when I say we all know which character named "Jesus" from the 90s is more memorable, so I'll save my big argument for closer competitions down the road. If Mr. Quintana can't win here, there wasn't much hope of his besting some of the truly memorable characters he'll meet in future rounds, anyway.

So I'll just leave you with this animated GIF

- Julius_Goat

Jesus Shuttleworth, He Got Game

Man, what a tough draw. Up against the Jesus? I don't know how I could vote against the guy.

But I will give this my best shot... I mean the guy is a purple-suit-and-hair-net-wearing-pederast-with-a-long-pinkie-fingernail. Strangely, Turturro plays a college coach in "He Got Game," and he shares a scene with Ray Allen:

Category: Nickname
Jesus Shuttlesworth: Basketball Jesus
Jesus Quintana: "The Jesus"
Verdict: Ok, so we've got a guy named after Earl "The Pearl" Monroe, one of the most beloved street ball players of all time, and a guy who immortalized himself in cult movie history with the quote: "Nobody Fucks with the Jesus!"

Jake Shuttlesworth: "My all-time favorite ballplayer was Earl Monroe.
Earl the Pearl. Yeah, he was nice. See, everybody remember him from the Knicks,
you know, when he helped win that second championship. I'm talking about when he was with the Bullets down at Winston-Salem Stadium...
before that game, with points a game the whole season.
. ...
the whole season.
But the Knicks, they put the shackles on him, man, you know, on his whole game.
They locked him up, like in a straitjacket or something.
When he was in the streets of Philly, the playgrounds, [ Grunting ]
he was like-- [ Laughing ]
- You know what they called him? - What?
Jesus. That's what they called him-- Jesus. 'Cause he was the truth.
Then the white media got a hold of it. Then they got to call him Black Jesus.
He can't just be Jesus. He got to be Black Jesus.
You know, but still... he was the truth.
So that's the real reason why you got your name.
You named me Jesus after Earl Monroe, and not Jesus in the Bible?
Not Jesus of the Bible, Jesus of North Philadelphia.
Jesus of the playgrounds. That's the truth, son.
The way he dished, the way he, you know, he spinned.
You know how you do, coming off and all that. Taw"

Despite the great Spike Lee lines delivered by Denzel, I have to give this to the pederast.

1-0 Quintana.

Category: Job
Jesus Shuttlesworth: Basketball Player
Jesus Quintana: Unemployed
Verdict: All I'll say here is that I wish I played in the NBA.

1-1.

Category: Best Line
Jesus Shuttlesworth: "Basketball is like poetry in motion, cross the guy to the left, take him back to the right, he's fallin' back, then just J right in his face. Then you look at him and say, "What?""
Jesus Quintana: "You said it man. Nobody fucks with the Jesus!"
Verdict: Again, Spike's lines go down against the mighty pen of the Coen brothers.

2-1 Quintana.

Category: Theme Music

Jesus Shuttlesworth: "He Got Game" by Public Enemy
Jesus Quintana: "Hotel California", Spanish Version, by the Gipsy Kings

Verdict: This is a tough one. I really love the the Gipsy Kings version of the Eagles horrible classic. But Chuck D came up with great lyrics over the Stephen Stills riff from "Something's Happening," and I have to give this one to Shuttlesworth due to originality.

Nothing to lose
Everythings approved
People used
Even murders excused
White men in suits
Don't have to jump

Tied up at 2-2.

Category: Clothing
Jesus Shuttlesworth: Outfit by Nike
Jesus Quintana: Purple bowling jumpsuit

3-2 Quintana. Let's just move on.

Category: Signature move
Jesus Shuttlesworth: Dunking on Denzel Washington.
Jesus Quintana: After bowling a strike, Jesus performs a little dance on the lane that can only be appreciated by watching it:

Ok, the Coens make Jesus's strike pretty impressive, but Ray Allen's dunks during his match with Denzel are pretty sweet. I definitely could bowl a strike but I can't throw down reverse jams against Denzel.

Point to Shuttlesworth. 3-3 in a close call.

Category: History
Jesus Shuttlesworth: All-American
Jesus Quintana: Pederast

8 year olds, dude.

4-3 Shuttlesworth.

I feel I'm up against Johnny Cochran here, and my poor defendant is going to the chair no matter how good my argument is. It's going to be difficult to vote against one of the most memorable characters in the Coen brothers' profilic library of original personalities. But hey, at least I've got Basketball Jesus ahead on my scorecard.

-HDouble

______________________________________________

The Terminator, Terminator 2: Judgment Day

The beauty of this character is his transition from bad guy in part I to savior in part II. It really puts the “like” factor of this character into a relm of unexpectedness. It’s nice to witness such an almost unbeatable villain finally come back and actually be on your side. The shock and eventual relief that little John Connors shows in the hall way of that mall after realizing that the bad guy was actually on his side resonated throughout the viewers and all adrenaline levels shot up knowing that you now have said badass on our side. Cause that what it was… Our side. Not John’s, not Sarah’s.. . Ours.

The Terminators growth throughout the movie was almost a little campy, you know… feelings, emotions, caring… but he still got the job done with always the most vicious and creative displays of violence as possible, and never failed to disappoint by dispatching of the bad guys, over and over and over again. Something to be said about persistence. Terminator II rocks. A’sta La Vista Baby.

-Riggstad

Bernie LaPlante, Hero

A tough matchup for me here.

I debated a long and extremely subtle joke involving the Terminator's housekeeper, but I was never good at that type of humor.

I don't know what anybody could write that would convince somebody to vote for a cynical Dustin Hoffman character against Arnold in one of his best performances. Does it help that Mariah Carey's most famous song was written for this movie?

The truth is, I picked Bernie Laplante late in the draft because I thought it would be interesting to see if:

1. anyone would vote for him and liked this movie as much as I did

2. I could persuade some people to see the film.

So what is so special about Bernie? Nothing really - he's the everyman who is able to act heroically when the situation arises. He's the "unknown hero," symbolizing all the heroic people out there doing good whenever they can. A hero who doesn't even think about what the word means (until he figures out that he can get a million bucks for his heroism).

But honestly, now that I'm trying to figure out what to write about Bernie Laplante, I can't come up with anything spectacular enough to defeat Arnold in Terminator 2. Terminator 2. We'll forget the fact that the original character was a relentless killer and featured young Arnold who embodied the word "fierce," and that the second version, who actually protects the hero and becomes a "good guy." Seems like a character from Wrestling... anyway, Bernie Laplante was a good reluctant hero who shows the value of living a good life -- robots who use time machines to fight other robots somehow seem less heroic, but I'm definitely biased towards humans. But maybe my guy has a shot against a watered-down version of the character from the original film in 1984.

BERNIE
What wouldja say if I toldja I ran
into a burning plane an' saved a
buncha people, Chick, an' risked
my goddamnlife?

CHICK
You mean like Bubber? The hero?

BERNIE
Yeah, like that. Same thing.

CHICK
Well... I mean... what am I supposed
to say here, Bern? Is this a riddle
or what?

BERNIE
I mean, if I said it, wouldja
believe me?
(then...)
Ya wouldn't, would ya?

CHICK
It's a character thing, Bernie.
I mean, you wouldn't do it. No
offense. Me neither. I mean, a guy
like Bubber, he's a certain kinda
guy. Heroic. You and me, we're
not... heroic. It's not our nature.
It don't mean we're bad or nothing.
We're just not so inclined. What
about it?

BERNIE
Nothin'.

-HDouble

______________________________________________

Mona Lisa Vito, My Cousin Vinny

Forget about the fact that Marisa Tomei is a top five hottest chic on the planet. Forget that she won an Oscar for her performance. The gal nailed this role and made this movie. Her dedication to her man, her unbelievable background, which she makes very believable to the audience in her portrayal, and her overall cuteness factor makes her one of the best characters of the 90’s hands down. The writers did a fabulous job tying her skills into winning the case. Marisa playing this character was hands down her best role of her career. I kinda liked when she got all naked in When the Devil Knows You’re Dead, but that’s just cause she goes full frontal.

What makes this role perfect is her stubbornness, her badassedness, and yet her ability to show that she’s still a woman. Her frustration for wanting to be married, have a child, and taking matters into her own hands so that her man can finish the job to obtain what SHE wants.

Overall, she is a fun, interesting character that helps defines the movies main character. Without her, he doesn’t play out so well.

-Riggstad

Annie Bates, Misery

This seems cruel. Not only do we have the previously-pointed-out paucity of female characters in our list, but one of them has to go in the first round.

And not only that, but do you realize that only eight of all 64 of these characters are Oscar winners for their roles? Do you realize that not only is this the only matchup between two women in the first round, it's also the only matchup between two Oscar winning roles? It could be argued that this is the most competitive match in the whole sheebang, at least until we get to the later levels.

Here's the thing. Mona Lisa Vito may be a hot mama, and very funny, but she's going to be neither pretty soon. Because Annie Wilkes is going to ride right over her cockadoodie dirty birdy skirt with a rider mower and then bury a sledgehammer between her eyes.

Annie Wilkes -- Arguably the purest cinematic characterization of a Stephen King creation.

Annie Wilkes -- For those moments when she goes from exuberant to dead-eyed, vacant, truly terrifying.

Annie Wilkes -- One of the most iconic names in cinematic thrillers.

You're thinking about voting for Mona. But you'll vote for Annie. You'll do it because you're scared not to.

- Julius_Goat

______________________________________________

Colonel Nathan R. Jessup, A Few Good Men

You have that luxury… you have the luxury of not knowing what I know. That Santiagos death, while tragic probably SAVED LIVES. And my existence, which is grotesque, and incomprehensible to you, SAVES LIVES. Deep down in places you don’t talk about at parties, you WANT me on that wall… you NEED me on that wall. We use words like honor, code, loyalty. We use these words as the backbone of a lifetime spent defending something. You use them as a punch line. I have neither the time, nor the inclination to explain myself to a person who rises and sleeps under the very blanket of freedom which I provide, and then QUESTIONS the manner in which I provide it. I would rather you just say Thank You, and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon and stand a post. EITHER WAY, I don’t give a GODDAMN… WHAT YOU THINK YOU ARE ENTITLED TO!

I didn’t even recount the most famous of lines, or most commercial I should say, which is of course, YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE TRUTH! Nor did I recount the funniest… “Tom, get me the president, we’re surrendering our position here in Cuba”… Or how about,” What I want is for you to stand there in your faggety white uniform, and with your Harvard mouth, extend me some fucking courtesy”.

No, don’t really need to. The beauty of this character, so eloquently portrayed by one the most talented and revered actors of our time, is how he convinces the viewer of how terrifying a man he really is, and at the same time how necessary he is. Not because he is inhuman, but because it is his JOB. His total disregard for one human life, or several, in order to do his job, which is to save thousand as he sees it, is evident in his stance as a Marine. The fact is, men like this (ok, women too you liberal feminist fags), NEED to exist. Jack shows why and more importantly HOW, with his portrayal of Colonel Nathan R Jessup. (insert cheap shot at competing writer) Leave it up to a Canadian to not understand that. After all, what do they ever need to defend. A country? BLAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…..

OK, kidding about the Canadian thing… I think… As a movie character, aside from the fantastic acting, the writers make this character. Jack is nothing more than a talented vessel. The writers really try to show the horror of this maniacal, egotistical narcissist who in the end makes you believe that his existence, although grotesque, and incomprehensible to you, really does need to exist. See a sane person knows that it is necessary. A liberal, humanist can keep their head in the sand until another tower falls I guess.

-Riggstad

Jack Skellington, The Nightmare Before Christmas

Jack Skellington from The Nightmare Before Christmas vs Jack Nicholson. Yah, I know it says "Col. Nathan R. Jessup", but let's be honest here - did ANY of you remember that was his name? No. He's "Jack Nicholson in A Few Good Men." A middling movie remembered for ONE line. The character isn't memorable, the scenery chewing from one of the greatest actors of the 20th century is. But we aren't here to debate actors or their best quotes. No, we're here to find the best CHARACTERS.

But MY Jack? Why he's ALL character. Do you know who does his voice? Nope. Sure, you can look it up, but that's not necessary, because you remember Jack Skellington, not Chris Sarandon and Danny Elfman. Yah, that's right - TWO people were needed to bring this walking, singing, dancing saviour of Halloweentown to life. Skellington is a case study in character growth. Starting out as the toast of the town, putting on the best Halloweens every year, we see that this soul is lost. Having feared that he can't top himself, he wanders and discovers a world he just can't comprehend. His good intentions lead to the Christmas from hell, and through this journey he discovers not only the old "meaning of Christmas", but himself. This leads to him bringing righteous retribution down on the villains of his town, while begging for forgiveness for those he was wronged. Find me one other character from the 90's that can be as joyful, lovable, misguided and terrifying as Jack Skellington. He GROWS, he IS the movie. He doesn't just show up for a cup of coffee and a good yell at some pretty-boy Scientologist, he elevates what could have been just another holiday special to a classic.

Here's a test. Jessup's famous line: "You can't handle the truth!" Now please, recite ANYTHING else he says in that speech.

A line from Jack: "There are children throwing snowballs, instead of throwing heads. They're busy building toys, and absolutely no one's dead!" You're welcome for the earworm.

Sometimes the truth hurts, but I'm sure you can handle it. Jessup doesn't qualify for this tournament since you don't recognize his name without the picture. 19 years after A Few Good Men, Jessup is good for a single line in Nicholson retrospectives. 18 years after Nightmare, Jack Skellington is still gaining fans, being seen in theatres in 3D, and causing people to hum songs about their confusion about snow. Truly great characters endure through time and become legends. Mediocre ones only survive through their best line.

- Astin

The Greatest Movie Character of 1990-1999 003 - Round 1, Heat 1

2011-05-16T07:35:00.000-07:00

Mia Wallace Division - Heat 1

Vote At FilmChaw

______________________________________________

Andy Dufresne, The Shawshank Redemption

Dear Will,

If you're reading this, you've gotten out of South Boston. And if you've come this far, maybe you're willing to come a little further. The name of the town here is Zihautenejo. I could use a good man to help my friend Red and I with a project. Remember Will -- hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.

I always liked the smart guys who have some fight in them. It always seemed to me that you and Chuckie had something good. Seeing you two made me think of the old days and the time I spent with my good friend Red. One thing I like about you, Will, is that it seems like there are always people looking out for you. I didn't have too many people I could count on in my life, and I hope you appreciate your best friend and your psychologist -- finding people who truly care for you is difficult in this world.

Red was a good friend to me, but if I had a friend like Sean or Chuckie, things might have been easier. One thing that bothered me about you is that it seemed like you lost your hope for a while. I you had a rough childhood, but I really hated seeing you so close to giving up hope.

Even during the worst of times at Shawshank -- the Sisters, the Warden's tyranny, Tommy getting shot -- I always had hope. Without it, I would have been a dead man a long time ago.

Another thing -- can't you come up with some better lines? "How do you like them apples?" Seems like a smart guy like you could come up with something a little more poetic. I always thought that if I was in a movie, I'd have some pretty good lines. One thing I always say is "Get busy livin or get busy dying." That seems like something people could remember.

Your friend,
Andy

-HDouble

Will Hunting, Good Will Hunting:

When we started drafting these characters it was during a weekend. I was picking and via the Iphone because I have a social life and was out and about NOT in front of a computer. Will Hunting was my very last pick and frankly didn’t even realize that he was available. Andy Dufresne was the very first pick of the draft if I recall (which was quite honestly a bit of a shocker to me). I think Will hunting was wrongly overlooked by all of us to have fallen to the last pick and frankly, was really even lucky to be picked at all if someone hadn’t reminded me about the movie.

Who doesn’t like Andy Dufresne? Really, who doesn’t like Shawshank as a top movie of all time? Good Will Hunting was a spectacular movie that made a huge splash in part because of the circumstances surrounding its success and such. Oscar awards, Matt Damon, Ben Affleck – both virtually unknowns, and a character based on some punk thug who happens to be the smartest person on the planet and happens to like apples. Great story line, although I think Psycho therapy is a crock of shit. Any who… oh right, I’m supposed to make a case as to why Will Hunting is a better choice over Andy Dufresne.

The only thing I have in that regard is that the circumstances of how and when they were picked in the draft should be brought to JUSTICE! No way Dufresne deserved a #1 pick and NO way Will deserved a last pick. Other than that… I got nothin’! So have at it and vote.

-Riggstad

______________________________________________

Captain Jim Miller, Saving Private Ryan:

This one I actually have something to write about. Saving Private Ryan is about the Character, albeit not the title character, more than the movie. The director does a lot to distract you from the point that the real value of this film, carried out by Capt. Miller’s character, is to take you inside of the war and its intended and known objectives and show you personal redemption. I mean we all loved the bombs and the brains and the guts. The special effects were so realistic and such a large part of the story. For the first time in Cinematic history, they had the ability to show the horror and gore of war as it really was. Not sensationalistic like movies tend to do but believable carnage. Captain Miller, a firm, disciplined soldier who does nothing to deviate from obtaining his objectives and to rally his men to stay focused on the same tasks, shows often why he prefers to be such a warrior. It’s not his training. It’s not blood lust. He’s not a career soldier. He’s a school teacher who is doing his job to the best of his abilities if for any other reason than to distract himself from the horror or insanity of why they are even there in the first place. He uses that tactic to focus on getting home as quick as possible and as sane as possible. He’s not in it to just blow shit up. He’s in it because he has to be. He finds the task of taking on the objective of saving one soldier, while risking the lives of his own men redeeming. Especially if it rewards him the opportunity to get home himself to see his family and return to normal life. In the end, he proves that his discipline in completing the objective outweighs his own desire to get home. A discipline born out of a desire to earn his way home from somewhere he had to be, not wanted to be. Truly a fantastic caricature of your not so average man accepting the fact that this is the world he lives in and will stop short of nothing to complete his objectives despite the consequences. No matter how dire they are.
Barton fink? Riiiiiiight…

-Riggstad

Barton Fink, Barton Fink:

Pragmatist: Really, you picked Barton Fink as your 9 seed?

Idealist: Yeah, I guess I could have gotten him later, but for some reason I thought somebody might pick him.

Pragmatist: I thought you knew how to draft, you played fantasy sports and stuff!

Idealist: Fine, it was a stupid pick, he would have gone last in the draft, are you happy now?

Pragmatist: Yes.

Idealist: But you know, I'm a wanna be writer who hates LA, tries not to be pretentious, and Turturro is great! How many movies have a writer as the main character facing off against John Goodman as the devil??? Fuck Tom Hanks!

Pragmatist: Yeah I am sure everyone will vote for you with that line of thinking.

Idealist: Anyway, how do you think I should approach it? He's got some great quotes... I could focus on those... Whatever I do I have to get this in somehow:

"It just doesn't seem to me that Los Angeles is the place to lead the life of mind."

Pragmatist: Man, all you do is quotes!

Idealist: Yeah you're right. Got any better ideas?

Pragmatist: He's got some great scenes. Maybe you could pick some youtube clips and break them down?

Idealist: Yeah, I thought of that but it seems kind of like cheating. We're assuming people have seen these movies already and--

Pragmatist: Why didn't you pick Goodman's character? That would be a lot more fun.

Idealist: Look I made my pick already, can we just move on here?

Pragmatist: Just trying to help.

Idealist: How about the wrestling scene? I mean you have Goodman suplexing Turturro in a wrestling demonstration, I have to put that in there.

Pragmatist: What, as an example of how a writer suffers for his craft?

Idealist: Why the hell did I pick this guy? Ok, forget the wrestling. Is it worth mentioning that Faulkner wrote a wrestling script and inspired the movie?

Pragmatist: Ummm...

Idealist: Ok forget it. I'm going with the youtube clips. Without showing Turturro's face there is just no way I can explain how awesome Barton Fink is.

Pragmatist: Good luck.

-HDouble

I'm A Writer, You Monsters!

That "Barton Fink" Feeling

I'll Show You The Life of the Mind!

I Got Respect For Working Guys Like You

Barton's World

______________________________________________

Ghost Dog, Ghost Dog, The Way of the Samurai:

Category: Nickname
Trent Walker: Double Down
Ghost Dog: Ghost Dog
Verdict: One applies to "what you should always do with an 11 except against an Ace", the other describes a Samurai who moves through Jersey City invisibly and with fierce determination.

Category: Job
Trent Walker: Aspiring Actor
Ghost Dog: Samurai Hit man
Verdict: I don't think I even need to comment here.

Category: Best Line
Trent Walker: "Vegas baby! Vegas!" and "You're so money and you don't even know it!"
Ghost Dog: "You know, in ancient cultures, bears were considered equal with men."
Hunter: "This ain't no ancient culture here, mister"
Ghost Dog: "Sometimes it is."

Verdict: I have heard both of Trent's lines about 1000 times in my life, so even though Ghost Dog has a better line, I have to give this one to Trent.

Category: Theme Music
Trent Walker: Jaws (while trying to pick up women at a bar)
Ghost Dog: Wu Tang's RZA
Verdict: The use of Jaws is witty, but Ghost Dog's theme, created by RZA for the movie, is one of the baddest theme songs for any character in any movie.

Category: Skills
Trent Walker: Understands Blackjack basic strategy, Decent Driver, Knows how to utilize Jeremy Roenick in EA's NHL Hockey on Genesis
Ghost Dog: Master of Samurai swordsmanship, Sharpshooter, Pigeon Whisperer, Inability to feel fear
Verdict: I love blackjack and I was also an expert with Roenick, but come on.

Category: Clothing
Trent Walker: Old school (slim) Vince Vaughn looked good in a black tie. Shark skin jacket.
Ghost Dog: All black leather jacket over a hoodie. Also rocks a blue suit with a black shirt.
Verdict: Although Trent's shark skin jacket is memorable, Ghost Dog's look is original, unique, and has resonance.

Category: Hair
Trent Walker: White man's high top fade
Ghost Dog: Corn rows
Verdict: Push

Category: Favorite Book
Trent Walker: Stanford Wong's "Winning without Counting"
Ghost Dog: Hagakure
Verdict: "Our bodies are given life from the midst of nothingness. Existing where there is nothing is the meaning of the phrase "Form is emptiness." That all things are provided for by nothingness is the meaning of the phrase "Emptiness is form." One should not think that these are two separate things." Nuff said.

Category: Favorite food
Trent Walker: Comped Treasure Island Lox platter
Ghost Dog: Ice cream
Verdict: Free Lox? Point for Double Down Walker.

Final score:
Ghost Dog 6, Trent Walker 2

There may be another character like Trent Walker someday, but I would vote for the only Jersey City Samurai Hitman you'll ever see.

-HDouble

Trent "Double Down" Walker, Swingers:

"Hey baby, what are you some kind of -- samurai gangster? That's literally So Cool, that's in right now, but not in a 'that's been done to death' sort of way, you know, more like a Wu Tang, old school, back in black sort of way, great all the babies will love it. You're like a bear. No, I mean it, baby, you're like a bear with these big f-- no . . . No wait, you're like the guy who KILLS the people who kill the bear, right? That's money. You've got this big sword and it's like you don't even know what to do with it, and I'm just this LA douche sitting here just BEGGING you 'cut me in half, cut me in half', and you're like, 'how? how? how can I cut you in half?' and you've got this GREAT BIG SWORD and you're like 'how do I cut him in half with this enormous fucking sword??' Listen, baby, you know everybody's voting for me. It's not because my movie is the one more people have seen and remembered, and it's not because I'm the most memorable character from that movie, and its not because I'm Thin Vince and not Puffy Vince, and it's not because I get the best scenes, and it's not even because I made Gretzky's head bleed just for fanboy 99 over there. Oh, wait. Yeah, it's totally because of all those things. ALL those things. You know how your code tells you to start each day with the knowledge you're already dead? That's good advice, baby. Why don't you ask your ice cream buddy over there how to say sayonara in French? "

- Julius_Goat

______________________________________________

Morpheus, The Matrix

It's rare to find a movie character who can believably pull off so many dimensions simultaneously.

Prophet, Mentor, Keeper of the Faith, Martial Arts expert, Hero.

As I was trying to figure out how best to show why Morpheus is a "better" character than John Malkovich, I ended up with a few approaches that all failed to capture the greatness of . So let's go straight to the source and break down my favorite quotes from one of my favorite movie characters of all time.

Morpheus: The Matrix is a system, Neo. That system is our enemy. But when you're inside, you look around, what do you see? Businessmen, teachers, lawyers, carpenters. The very minds of the people we are trying to save. But until we do, these people are still a part of that system and that makes them our enemy. You have to understand, most of these people are not ready to be unplugged. And many of them are so inured, so hopelessly dependent on the system, that they will fight to protect it.

Morpheus's first lesson to his pupil is delivered with calm intensity, and explains in simple terms the way in which the "unexamined life" and materialism can imprison us. It's something an expert painter might say to an aspiring painter who has shown early promise. The speech also illustrates the painful reality of being a caring human being: we fight to save our enemies and open their eyes to a way of living outside the system.

Morpheus: I know *exactly* what you mean. Let me tell you why you're here. You're here because you know something. What you know you can't explain, but you feel it. You've felt it your entire life, that there's something wrong with the world. You don't know what it is, but it's there, like a splinter in your mind, driving you mad. It is this feeling that has brought you to me. Do you know what I'm talking about?

The teacher continues his lecture, using a powerful simile to make his point. The "splinter" he refers to reminds us of those moments when we aspire for a more fulfilling life and a better world. In a world filled with depressing headlines, cynicism and sarcasm fill our mind with storm clouds that threaten apathy. With this speech, Morpheus offers us a ray of idealism that pierces the dark clouds.

Morpheus: Free your mind.
[Morpheus jumps from one building to another a long distance away]
Neo: Whoa

Like all great teachers, Morpheus first explains a concept, and then illustrates the concept by doing it himself. Just as Yoda lifts his pupil's ship from the swamp when Luke sees only the impossible, Morpheus forces his pupil to see beyond the limitations created by his mind. Sitting in the theater as a 22 year old, I remember sharing Neo's amazement at the sight of Morpheus's leap of faith.

How many Malkovich quotes do you remember? Do you remember his voice? Do you remember what he was wearing? Take the red pill.

-HDouble

John Malkovitch, Being John Malkovitch

Some characters are incredibly one-dimensional. Others have some pathetic other side that is intended to add depth. Nowadays it seems everything is going 3D. But Malkovich? He's multidimensional, he's got dimensions you can't even imagine. Accessible through a small door on the 7 1/2 floor, you too can be this broad-based auteur. Thespian, tortured soul, puppeteer and puppet both, a man controlled by the whim of petty man-gods, with direct access to the side of the New Jersey Turnpike, Malkovich fights an ultimately fruitless battle against forces he can barely understand. Man vs Army of Senior Citizens inside his own mind isn't frequently visited territory for most actors, but John Malkovich lives it in a means beyond the deepest method actors. Rare is it that one can face oneself, let alone oneself lying on a piano reciting oneself's name. Morpheus nearly broke under the "duress" of being asked some questions by an Australian with an hearing aid. John Malkovich rebelled against a man almost literally pulling his strings. Also, he's best friends with Charlie Sheen. Morpheus is best friends with some dork hacker who refuses to accept the reality of spoons.

- Astin

Your Weekly Dose of Crazy

2011-05-11T09:47:00.000-07:00

We all have our talents. Some can draw, others are good at speaking in public, others are quite good at math.

This guy can sit in front of a member of Seal Team Six and make that Marine wet his pants in terror. Red contacts would complete the effect.

And now, to counteract the wrongness, here's a little sleeping bunny rabbit.

Your Weekly Dose of Awesome

2011-05-10T01:00:00.001-07:00

Remember, these are the good old days.

The Greatest Movie Character of 1990-1999: 02 - Matchups

2011-05-08T20:16:00.000-07:00

Cross-posted at FilmChaw.

So, it's been a while since I brought up this whole 'greatest movie character' thing, hasn't it? My apologies; I won't get into the details, but suffice it to say that massive technology tilt is a major culprit.

That's all through now. I haven't talked with my fellow caballeros yet, but I think we can get going this week. Look for us Wednesday. For now, I'll put up the various matchups of Round 1 so you can get a preliminary idea of how you'd like to vote.

A couple final thoughts first.

1) Those Left Behind. I knew from the beginning that this experiment was built for controversy. Unsurprisingly, most of the comments have included something along the line of "HOW COULD YOU HAVE LEFT OUT BEST CHARACTER EVER????" Frankly, I'm surprised as well. The choices that were made were not all choices I would have made, and I'm betting at least a few of my picks had the others scratching their heads. How can it be otherwise? What makes a character "great" is completely subjective. Suffice it to say, 64 is a very small group when you're talking about literally all movie characters of a decade. My last picks were agonizing as I realized just how many incredible characters were going to be left out of the big dance. So, yeah, you're right. It is crazy that ___________ was left out. I guess there's always the NIT.

2) This One Is For the Ladies. We chose 60 male characters and only 4 female. I know. Look, I know. What can I tell you? I've been thinking about this discrepancy, and I think it comes down to a few factors. First, I think we're dealing with four guys; there's probably a bit of identity politics at play. Second, I think a huge amount of what makes a character great (more even than the acting) is the dialogue. Great lines mean great characters, and this experiment's first lesson for me is just how many of the great lines go to the fellas. Lastly, we're competitive types, all of us playing to win. I can't speak for the others here (and I think HDouble is probably a notable exception to the rule), but I didn't really pick my favorite characters in all cases so much as the characters that I thought would get votes. To be clear, I love all the characters I picked, but I might have picked other more obscure ones if I thought the majority of potential voters wouldn't have just said, "who?"

Anyway, it's not much, but as some sort of nod to the fact that the nineties also had a ton of great characters of both genders, I'm naming the 4 divisions of this bracket after four female characters that I really think ought to be represented.

OK, let's get this going. My hope is that we run round one in groups of 8, one a day.

Mia Wallace Division, Day 1

Mia Wallace Division, Day 2

Clarice Starling Division, Day 3

Clarice Starling Division, Day 4

Trinity Division, Day 5

Trinity Division, Day 6

Tracy Flick Division, Day 7

Tracy Flick Division, Day 8

Your Weekly Dose Of Crazy

2011-05-04T06:43:00.000-07:00

I know, it's been slow around here for a couple weeks. It'll get better soon, I promise, I think, maybe.

Anyway, this should make your brain want to eject itself:

Your Weekly Dose of Awesome

2011-04-28T01:00:00.000-07:00

Louis CK is arguably the greatest living stand up comedian right now. He's also a filmmaker worth keeping an eye on.

Hello, there.

Your Weekly Dose Of Crazy

2011-04-26T01:00:00.000-07:00

I wish I could find anything I loved as much as this guy loves RISK.

The Greatest Movie Character of 1990-1999: 01 - Introduction

2011-04-24T21:33:00.000-07:00

Cross-posted at FilmChaw.

My wife tells me I have a rich internal life. That's her far-too-kind way of saying "why do you think about all this random nonsense when you're not even sure where you're going or why most days?"

For instance: Have you ever wondered to yourself, Hey, I wonder who the greatest movie character of the 90s is? I mean, you just went through the 90s year-by-year to figure out which movies were likely to enter the cannon of Great Cinema, or, failing that, Enduring Entertainment. But what about, you know, the characters? Could Hannibal Lector survive a match-up with Col. Nathan Jessup? Is Forrest Gump still a player?

Just me, huh? Oh well. Moving on . . .

We're going to do something about this, people. We're going to discover who the best of the best of the best. Here's what I plan to do.

We're going to do this March Madness style. I, along with three others, will hold a draft to choose 64 movie characters. First pick will be first seed, second pick will be second seed, and so forth. We'll then pit character against character, each of us writing an impassioned case for why our chosen character is the better movie character. Any criteria is fair game: enjoyability, iconic stature, importance to film culture, hair, whatever.

Then, all of you go vote at FilmChaw for the character you wish to see win. Winner advances. Loser hangs him or herself from the HOLLYWOOD sign.

So now you're probably asking yourself (if you haven't stopped reading already, that is) when will it happen? When will the draft take place? When will I do this?

Do it? Readers, I'm not a Republic Serial villain. Do you seriously think I'd explain my master-stroke if there remained the slightest chance of you affecting its outcome? I've already done it.

Voting starts sometime this week.

Note: THIS DOES NOT WORK UNLESS YOU VOTE. PLEASE VOTE. LET OTHER PEOPLE KNOW ABOUT IT. ENCOURAGE THEM TO VOTE. TWEET ABOUT IT. BLOG ABOUT IT. WRITE ABOUT IT IN SPRAY PAINT ON HIGHWAY OVERPASSES. WRITE IT IN THE SKY IN GOSSAMER TEARDROPS. MAKE IT YOUR FIRST THOUGHT WHEN YOU WAKE AND YOUR LAST THOUGHT BEFORE DRIFTING OFF TO SLEEP.

Ahem. Anyway. We gonna do this like Brutus, cause we knew 'dis.

Obviously, I needed to find three other crazy people. This was not hard.

_________________

HDouble is a part of the poker-blogger bedrock. If poker bloggers were hockey teams, he'd be one of the original six. If poker bloggers were elements, he'd be Helium. If poker bloggers were pizza toppings, he would be cheese. This guy was around back when the Blogfather was only a Blogbrother. Not only that, but he wrote a series of film posts comparing poker to various movies that are must-reads.

TEAM HDOUBLE

1) Andy Dufresne, The Shawshank Redemption
2) Phil Connors, Groundhog Day
3) The Dude, The Big Lebowski
4) Morpheus, The Matrix
5) Ghost Dog, Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai
6) Mike McD, Rounders
7) Herman Blume, Rushmore
8) Dignan, Bottle Rocket
9) Barton Fink, Barton Fink
10) William Blake, Dead Man
11) Jesus Shuttleworth, He Got Game
12) Truman Burbank, The Truman Show
13) Marge Gunderson, Fargo
14) Bernie LaPlante, Hero
15) Neil McCauley, Heat
16) Raoul Duke, Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas

_________________

Astin has become one of the prime FilmChaw contributors (though nobody can touch The Real Dawn Summers), and possesses one of the more refined film palates out there. Also, if you listen to some people, he is me, which makes this praise more than a little suspect.

TEAM ASTIN

1) Jules Winfield, Pulp Fiction
2) Verbal Kint, The Usual Suspects
3) Ash, Army of Darkness
4) Sarah Connor, Terminator 2
5) Austin Powers, Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery
6) Eric Draven, The Crow
7) Agent Smith, The Matrix
8) Cole Sear, The Sixth Sense
9) John McClane, Live Free or Die Hard
10) Mr. Blonde, Reservoir Dogs
11) Brodie Bruce, Mallrats
12) Jean Baptiste Emmanuel Zorg, The Fifth Element
13) John Malkovitch, Being John Malkovitch
14) Happy Gilmore, Schindler's List*
15) Jack Skellington, The Nightmare Before Christmas
16) Darth Maul, Star Wars Episode I: The Death of Hope

*Citation neeed

_________________

Riggstad is a closer, and is therefore allowed to drink some of the coffee. He can handle the truth. Come with him if you want to live. You're a daisy if you do.

TEAM RIGGSTAD

1) Tyler Durden, Fight Club
2) Col. Nathan R. Jessup, A Few Good Men
3) The Terminator, Terminator 2
4) William Wallace, Braveheart
5) Little Bill, Unforgiven
6) Forrest Gump, Boys On The Side
7) Mona Lisa Vito, My Cousin Vinnie
8) Cpt. John Miller, Saving Private Ryan
9) Doc Holiday, Tombstone
10) Malcolm X, Malcolm X
11) Micky Knox, Natural Born Killers
12) Ace Ventura, Ace Ventura: Pet Detective
13) Nicky Santoro, Casino
14) Lt. Colonel Frank Slade, Scent of a Woman
15) Roy McElvoy, Tin Cup
16) Will Hunting, Good Will Hunting

________________

Julius_Goat is me. I'm pretty old, I guess. Estimates range as to how old. I reckon some day I'll get those carbon dating fellas out to my flypaper shack in the Ozarks to test me and then I'll know for sure. Then I'll shoot 'em because I hate trespassers and Nosey Nancies. I keep my teeth in my mouth, but I'm thinking about getting them into a Roth IRA or maybe a hedge fund. I am tall enough to ride all the rides at Seven Flags. I am omnifragrant, which means that I smell of everything, and, therefore, nothing. In my spare time, I catch eagles with my bare hands. You just need plenty of patience, and bare hands. And a gun. In seven years, I've caught 0 eagles. Someday I think I'll catch one, if I just stay positive. Today's the day!

TEAM JULIUS_GOAT

1) Hannibal Lecter, The Silence of the Lambs
2) Blake, Glengary Glen Ross
3) Tommy DeVito, Goodfellas
4) Milton, Office Space
5) Dr. Evil, Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery
6) The Jesus, The Big Lebowski
7) Buzz Lightyear, Toy Story
8) Drexel, True Romance
9) Derek Vinyard, American History X
10) Annie Bates, Misery
11) Karl Childers, Sling Blade
12) "Double Down" Trent, Swingers
13) Dirk Diggler, Boogie Nights
14) Wooderson, Dazed and Confused
15) Donald "Sully" Sullivan, Nobody's Fool
16) Red, The Shawshank Redemption

________________

Keep watching this space -- Round 1 begins soon.

The End, And Everything After That

2011-04-23T10:22:00.000-07:00

Pictured: New poker sites rushing to fill the Stars/Tilt void.

There's a sort of horror/action movie trope that has been gaining in popularity over the last decade or so; you've probably seen it once or twice. It's the new signifier of Ultimate Baddassery or of Damn You Just Got Pwned -- sometimes both.

It's known as the Cut/Slide.

It works like this: The hapless victim finds him/herself in the line of fire of The Thin Sharp Impossibly Fast-Moving Thing, which may be a sword, or a grid, or a laser, or whatever. It whips past them . . . they stare in frozen shock and fear . . . and, after long seconds pass, the victim slides away in little itty bits, or discrete chunks, or whatever sort of pieces the Thin Sharp Impossibly Fast-Moving Thing cut them into. The idea is that they died so instantly, so perfectly, that we the audience have to wait to get the news.

(Do a YouTube search on Cut/Slide if you want some examples. Just realize that it is in no way for the squeamish.)

Why do I bring this up? Because the UIGEA is the Thin Sharp Impossibly Fast-Moving Thing, perfectly honed not to be enforceable in itself, but to create an environment that made serious enforcement possible and necessary. We, the players, are the audience. And late 2006 through mid-2011? That's the time it took for us to realize the facts.

Online Poker in the USA died about four years ago. The chunks just hit the floor.

The three US-facing majors just dropped to the floor in discrete little bits. And so what if something else rushes in to fill the void? They'll face the same problems when it comes to the flow of money. Are they going to succeed where Stars and Tilt failed, or are they going to become even shadier shades of shady?

Poker is done.

Game over, man.
_________________

"The DOJ's stinking DA froze my assets, and thank you SO
much for bringing up such a painful topic. While you're at
it, why don't you deal me a nice 1-outer and then laugh in my
face? WE'RE CLOSED."

That's one way of looking at it, of course. For the last week, there have been many bloggers out there bringing us excellent and realistic analysis of what it all means (special hat tip to Bill Rini, Grange, and CK). They're pretty much spot on, I think. The issue isn't really the legality of poker, it's the far more serious charges, levied against Stars and Tilt (and Cerus), of money laundering and bank fraud. It doesn't really matter if poker is a skill game or if playing it isn't technically illegal, or the fact that it is total nonsense for our government to propagate a foolish prohibition on a card game, or any of a dozen other things that I agree with. It's about meticulously detailed charges of bank fraud and money laundering. That's not good.

(They aren't guilty, by the way. I say this not because I am a legal expert, or even knowledgeable about the case. I say this because the last time I checked people were ~~guilty until proven innocent~~ innocent until proven guilty (I am obviously stupid until proven smart, and should not write at 1:00 AM any more, TY Cardgrrl), and for all the pause the DOJ's obvious confidence in making a conviction may give us, we'd do well to remember that. So, for now, let's remember that all parties are innocent until proven so otherwise.)

Poker is Dead®.

Or is it? I find it hard to believe that Cake and Bodog and the other skins aren't going to see enormous growth. Interestingly, this story has seen a lot of traction in the mainstream media, certainly more than I remember from the passage of UIGEA, and most of it is favorable to the poker player side of things. There actually seem to be movements toward regulation.

So, good. Poker is not dead, but only Mostly Dead. Mostly dead, as we know, is still partly alive. But it's going to take a miracle to bring it back. Or maybe true love. Perhaps both.

In truth, we just have to wait for the third act of the movie. The hero always comes back to life in the third act.

So we wait. Cool our heels. Months? One year? Two? Three? More?

I can't imagine the stress of my online buds who are working in poker media, or whose income depends in whole or in part on the US online poker market. I made a lot of jokes on Twitter last Friday, because that's what I do in pretty much all circumstances, but my heart bleeds for them.

For them, months or years doesn't matter. For us, it will be a total reset button. Many of us won't return.

Where do we go from here?

_________________

I don't know about all of you, but I'm cashing out (when I am able). I'm using the money to take my lady-wife on a cruise, which is something she's always wanted to do. I'm deliciously happy that my dumb little hobby and her indulgence of me in it are allowing us a week's enjoyment in the Caribbean (or somewhere thereabouts).

I am going to take all that poker time and I'm going to do something with it that I should have been doing for a while now. Blogging won't tail off entirely, but I suspect it will etiolate significantly, or at least I hope it will, and for the right reasons.

My main concern is that these few, these lucky few, this band of bloggers, already so dispersed by long familiarity with poker, with Twitter and Facebook and with other online distractions, will disperse and fade away like a mist in sunshine. Five years ago, I signed onto my first tournament on Stars -- the 2nd ever Wheatie. Four years ago, I started this blog and started playing BBT tournies. In that time, I've formed real and valuable relationships online, a fact that isn't less true despite its obvious strangeness. It would be a shame to see that all evaporate without the shared communal experience. So hey -- and I do mean this -- don't be strangers. Stay on the RSS feed. Hit me up on the IM, or the comments, or wherever.

PokerStars and Full Tilt are gone, really gone. Whatever may come afterward, we'll probably not see their like again. It's hard to imagine HarrahsPoker.com having anything like the level of dedication and attention that we saw from those two. The idea that they suddenly aren't there is occasionally baffling to me. After all this time, they'd become part of the furniture. It's not quite a phantom limb, but it's something of that kind. Maybe its like having your head shaved. Though eventually you have hope it will grow back, you keep forgetting you don't have hair. You keep raising your hand to your scalp to find the stubble.

Someday, something will grow back. I'll probably be around to check it out.

Be excellent to each other.

Eulogy

2011-04-22T21:17:00.000-07:00

Oh Poker, beware thou the Ides of . . . April?

- - - - -

Friends, donkeys, congressmen, lend me your ears!
I come to bury Poker, not to praise it.
The monster pots of men are oft forgotten;
The bad beats still we feel them in our bones.
So let it be with Poker.

The noble Bharara hath told you that poker was illegal.
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Poker answered it.

Here, by leave of Bharara and the rest
(For Bharara is an honorable man,
So are they all, all honorable men)
Come I to speak at poker's funeral.
It was my friend, faithful and just (save razz).
But Bharara says poker was illegal,
And Bharara
is
an honorable man. . .

The game hath brought us many fish in full
Whose drawing did the general bankrolls fill
Did this in Poker seem illegal?
When the poor have cried, BBT has brought us freerolls.
A shark's game should be made of sterner stuff.
Yet Bharara says Poker was illegal,
And Bharara is an honorable man . . .
You all do know how we our brag posts blogged,
Which now will fallow lie -- was this illegal?
Yet Bharara says that Poker was illegal;
And sure, he is an

honorable

man.

I speak not to disprove what Bharara spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all did love It once, not without cause:
What cause withholds you then to mourn for It?
O judgement! thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their home games…. Bear with me;
My heart is yet subpoena'd there with Poker,
And I must pause till it come back to me.

Your Weekly Dose of Armageddon

2011-04-15T13:36:00.001-07:00

Your Weekly Dose of Awesome

2011-04-14T00:00:00.000-07:00

The one-man band has come a long way. Based on this video, I probably would pay to see this guy rocking his five loop-peddles and a microphone in concert.

The Goat Suggests 004: WTF With Marc Maron

2011-04-13T00:00:00.000-07:00

Do you like stand-up comedians?

Please note: I didn't ask if you like stand-up comedy. I asked if you like stand up comedians. Perhaps you believe that I'm engaging in hair-splitting, and you wouldn't be the first, but if you like stand-up comedy, you could like any number of things, both brilliant and hackneyed. Perhaps you're remembering a particular HBO special. Perhaps you're conjuring Eddie Murphy in a red leather suit. Howie Mandell with a rubber glove on his head. Steve Martin's banjo and fake arrow. I don't know. These are good enough things. You may also be thinking of some random person in front of some random brick wall, letting you know that LA and New York are different, or that this is how white folks be driving, or maybe Gallagher smashing fruit with a big mallet.

But if you are the kind of person who likes stand-up comedians? You're probably the sort who is looking for the distinctive voice. The new perspective. The paradigm shift. The almost relentless navel gaze.

Stand up comedians. They're an odd breed.

Marc Maron is one who has been around the block. He ran with Kinison in his youth, hung with David Cross and Patton Oswalt, and cut his teeth with the legendary Louis CK. Now he stands between that age and this, bridging the madmen of the mid 80s with the new breed. He's a fascinating creature, both in how disfunctional he is (he's oppressively jealous of his more successful show-business friends, who are legion) and in how open and jarringly honest he is about that disfunction.

His podcast is called WTF. In it, Maron interviews comedians for hours at a stretch. It's kind of awesome. It is quickly becoming the document of record for comedy. The reason is simple: Because Maron has been around for such a long time, his interviews don't have any of the glib "so tell me about yourself" vibe that you'll usually get on talk radio or late night talk shows. It's just two buddies shooting the breeze, and one of the buddies happens to be Louis CK, or Conan O'Brien.

I think you should go listen to it now.

In fact, start with the Gallagher. It's pretty choice.

Your Weekly Dose of Crazy

2011-04-12T00:00:00.000-07:00

Remember kids, Circletine isn't meth.

But it is MOSTLY meth. There's a little bit of sugar and arsenic added.

Your Weekly Dose of Awesome

2011-03-31T01:00:00.000-07:00

With a band name like "The Axis of Awesome", you know they have to wind up here eventually. Shameless pandering, really.

That said, they are not without massive reserves of awesome. Check it.

Your Weekly Dose of Crazy

2011-03-29T01:00:00.000-07:00

My people, you have been begging me for a Gravy Rainbow.

Beg no more! At last, it is here!

Time-Delayed Oscars 010: 1999

2011-03-26T22:02:00.000-07:00

Folks, we’re nearing the end of the nineties, and what have we learned? First, I’ve learned that this is a truly enjoyable series of posts to write. I’m almost certain to move on to the eighties. Second, it can be a total grind. I’m almost certain to take a break before moving on.

I was asked on Formspring the other day which year I thought represented the decade’s strongest showing. This is that year. Seriously, go look at the absolute monster list below. It’s almost silly. We’re talking about a breathtaking array of genre-benders and risk-taking films that sent shock waves into and throughout the next decade. Amazingly (or perhaps not so much), this was also a year that the Academy got it almost entirely wrong.

Spoilers: This is too long and you didn’t read it. Those of you who sold your attention spans for the latest Angry Birds upgrade pack should probably just pull the ripcord now; your parachute will carry you down with cottony softness to the Daily Doses of Crazy and Awesome.

Huh? You’re still here?

Let’s do it.

Check Out The Movies of 1999.

Yes, you can ask your contractor to install a similar ceiling,
but the insulation is crap, it's going to just KILL your heating bill.

And Down! The! Stretch! They! Come!

All About My Mother – The first Pedro Almodovar movie to receive serious Oscar notice. Not my favorite of his, but all the touchstones are here; the strong women, the bright palate, the artifice of performance bleeding into “real” life. It’s worth seeking out.

American Beauty – Otherwise known as Your Best Picture of 1999, Beauty hasn’t aged all that well. It’s still got bits that pop, the cinematography is absolutely gorgeous, and I think Kevin Spacey in particular is very good in it, but it comes off now as overly mannered in some spots, and outright contrived or pretentious in others. In another year, I think it would remain a contender, but I think it would be hard-pressed to even get a nomination in retrospect, particularly given director Sam Mendes’ spotty track record (Road to Perdition, Revolutionary Road, and other movies without the word ‘Road’ in them).

American Pie – Brought back the teen raunch comedy and launched a billion direct-to-DVD sequels. Also, Shannon Elizabeth. Just sayin’.

Any Given Sunday – Never saw this, but it got Jamie Foxx started down the ‘serious actor’ road, and allegedly has a lively Al Pacino performance. Warrants a brief mention.

Being John Malkovich – OK, so we’re all now aware that this is an all-time classic, right? Charlie Kaufman and Spike Jones showed up with this aggressively bizarre gem about people scheming for recognition, scrambling around in a culture that values fame so desperately that they’ll pay top dollar to spend a little bit of time as a kind of famous person. I think this movie pretty much freaked everybody out, and though there were a couple nominations given, it pretty much was ignored, written off as a cult hit with a small but rabid fan base. Nope; this one pushed the envelope of how stories could be told, and spoke into our culture of ‘look at me!’ with far greater insight than The Truman Show managed to do. Also, it’s safe to say I will never fully recover from the “Malkovitch enters Malkovitch” scene.

The Blair Witch Project – This was a sensation at the time, remember? I thought it was OK, but much better at creating atmosphere than sustaining it. Nevertheless, I think it was the first major hit to employ the ‘handheld’ look, and it redefined film marketing by producing hoax documentaries about the film, which went an early form of viral. In fact, the first time many of us heard the term “viral” in reference to web popularity may well have been in the context of this movie.

Boys Don't Cry – One of those classic “excellent movies that I never want to watch again.” Hilary Swank gives the performance of her career as Brandon Teena.

Dogma – This is notable to me because it is the movie where Kevin Smith and I parted ways. Not because of the religious satire stuff, which I thought was interesting-to-brilliant, but because he felt the need to bring in Jay and Silent Bob, who fit in to the movie about as well as a fart demon in church. And then they fought a fart demon. Smith is a very funny guy, and I’ll listen to him talk whenever and wherever and about whatever he wants to talk. But when he self-deprecatingly calls himself a lazy film-maker, it is proof that ‘self-deprecating’ doesn’t equal ‘wrong.’ I’m a fan of Kevin Smith who is not a fan of Kevin Smith movies, is I guess what I’m saying.

Election – Guys, Reese Witherspoon is el magnifico. I mean pure genius. If not for an entry a little further down the list, this would be the recipient of my ‘sadly buried classic’ prize for this year.

Eyes Wide Shut – I rented and watched Stanley Kubrick’s final movie ten years ago. I thought it was absolute drivel, but on the other hand, I also thought Nicole Kidman was naked in it. Now critics who hated it are coming back around. It occurs to me that this sort of critical time-lapse is pretty common with Kubrick. It also occurs to me that I probably rented a lousy pan-and-scan on VHS. Might be time to revisit Nicole, um, I mean this movie.

Fight Club – Was this movie any good? I don’t know, I never saw it but I think it’s probably been forgotten.

HA! Caught you, didn’t I? You probably were already crafting your angry comments.

Galaxy Quest – Just a fun B-movie all the way. If it were on TV right now, I’d watch it, and so would you.

Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai – All I really want to say about Ghost Dog is this: I think of this meditative and immensely oddball gangster movie as the ultimate halfway litmus test. If you didn’t like it, it doesn’t mean too much to me in terms of your taste, by which I mean I understand why it might not be your cup of tea, and I don’t really judge you because of it. On the other hand, if you loved it, you are definitely my kind of people. If you loved The Godfather? Well, congratulations. Who didn’t? But if you loved Ghost Dog? I need to buy you a beer and talk with you for a while. You’re part of my tribe.

The Insider – Almost left this off the list. I think it’s still sort of remembered for the Russell Crowe performance. It’s a good movie, but I think it’s going to be/has already been forgotten.

The Iron Giant – Dudes. Dudettes. Trust me. If you haven’t seen this movie, you’re missing out on one of the finest and most sadly unknown ~~children’s~~ films ever. Before he made The Incredibles or Ratatouille, animation legend Brad Bird made this. If you don’t love it, I’ll kill ya. This would be a credible Best Picture choice in most years, kids’ movie or no kids’ movie. It’s pretty much perfect.

Magnolia There comes a point, after the frogs have started raining down on Los Angeles, when Current Quiz Kid Stanley Spector looks around and says with awe, “This happens. This is something that happens.” That’s how I felt too, as I realized that PT Anderson had decided that no limits were necessary in his narratives. I was already pretty well invested in the movie, a well-acted, beautifully written, stunningly directed piece, but I couldn’t shake that it was essentially nothing more than a well-made entry in the ‘we-are-all-connected-in-this-big-city’ cannon that Robert Altman (among others) had already done pretty well. But then Anderson hocked up a frog rain, and dared us to follow him right down the rabbit hole. Did you? I did. This is my favorite movie of this very strong year.

The Matrix – You see what I mean about 1999? You see what I mean? The original lost a little of its shine because of two ghastly sequels, but whatever you might think of those movies, it’s difficult to say that The Matrix didn’t drop a megaton paradigm bomb all over action cinema and helped usher in the design aesthetic (sleek, black, lots of white space – this movie basically invented a decade of Apple products) we’re still living with. It’s also a top-shelf sci-fi action film, and provides us with what is sure to be the defining ‘whoa’ of Keanu Reeves’ career.

Office Space – This movie was a total bomb. I’ll repeat that. This movie – this movie – was a total bomb. My, what a difference a few hundred cases of the Mondays makes, am I right? I think it’s safe now to call Office Space one of the defining comedies of the decade. This is the way we can find the Russian agents still hiding among us: Find out if they’ve seen this movie. If not, you’ve got a sleeper agent for sure. It’s a sort of polite howl against the dehumanizing effect of cubical life, it’s the movie that gave us all the chance to vicariously beat the living shit out of a faulty printer, and most importantly, it’s the movie that reclaimed the name ‘Michael Bolton’ from infamy. In many years, this movie would be a likely dark horse Best Picture nominee, even though it’s in the comedy ghetto that is seldom Academy-honored. Damn, it feels good to be a gangsta.

The Sixth Sense – Remember when M. Night Shyamalan was considered the heir to Spielberg and Hitchcock? Yeah. So, anyway…I watched this again, and it isn’t terrible. In fact, there are creepy little parts of it that are effective and bordering on great. Bruce Willis, Haley Joel Osment, and Toni Collette all give interesting, if highly stylized, performances, and Shyamalan -as-director’s strength have not yet been subsumed by Shyamalan -as-writer-of-terrible-and-obvious-dialogue. Also, it kept Donnie Wahlberg off the streets for a few days. That said, it doesn’t hold up as anything resembling ‘great’. It’s difficult to know how much of my reaction is biased by the midden heap that M. Night has been slowly pooting out for the last 10 years, but it’s pretty clear that this is simply the cleverest of his empty little Twilight Zone episodes. (I’d say one of his later movies is less clever but still more successful cinematically. Now I’m quibbling. How do I get out of this parenthetical?)

South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut – I’d have to say this is one of the very funniest movies that have ever been made. What’s so extraordinary about SPBLU is not just that it expands the South Park universe to a scope epic enough for the big screen, but that is it easily one of the most enjoyable screen musicals in decades. They don’t just make fun of the music they are satirizing, either; Parker and Stone went and made honest-to-God great songs. They are geniuses, and it’s little wonder that this year they have become the toast of Broadway.

Star Wars Episode 1: The Phantom Menace – Yep. So. This happened. Hmm. Kind of awkward. Shall we just sort of politely move along?

The Talented Mr. Ripley – A fantastic thriller that kind of gets lost it in the 1999 mix. It brought Jude Law front and center in the national consciousness, but what is often missed is that Matt Damon delivered what is probably the best performance of his career. How he missed the nomination is beyond me, but who cares? Go back and watch him now.

Three Kings – An odd little sleeper in 1999 (part Kelly’s Heroes, part Platoon), it’s now often mentioned among the best war films ever. It doesn’t hurt that director David O. Russell has become an official Auteur To Watch in the decade following this Gulf War drama, or that stars Mark Wahlberg and George Clooney have themselves gained significant critical cachet.

Toy Story 2 – The sequel is every bit as good as the groundbreaking (and Retroactive Oscar Best Picture winning) original. There are those that would say it’s even better, setting up and deepening the themes that would, by part three, blossom into a full-on existential meditation about the inevitability of death. To be fair, it’s also about toys doing funny things. I don’t want to get too far down Pretention Parkway with this. Whatever, all hail Pixar.

Varsity Blues – I think this is sort of remembered, but I just want to point out that this is the movie that actually gave the hero my last name (and the nickname derivative that is the natural offshoot of said name), and then cast James VanderBeek (Dawson himself) as that hero. This is like finding out you won $500 in a contest and then finding out that it is a Dom Deluise look-alike contest.

And The Time-Delayed Oscars Go To. . .

"Some people who took Red Pill reported side-effects, including
changes in appetite; changes in sexual desire; constipation;
dizziness; drowsiness; pursuit by kill-bots, increased saliva
production; deluisions of godhood; lightheadedness;
tiredness; kung fu; leather fetishes; unsteadiness; weight changes,
and the ability to control time and space. Consult with your
physician before taking Red Pill."

Best Picture

Real List: American Beauty, The Cider House Rules, The Green Mile, The Insider, The Sixth Sense

Today's List: Being John Malkovitch, Fight Club, Magnolia, The Matrix, Three Kings

My pick: Magnolia

Look at those two lists. I don’t think that there is any more damning evidence of the Academy’s increased irrelevance than that. I mean, of the movies actually nominated in 1999, only eventual winner American Beauty is even credible. Meanwhile, the bottom list is almost comically stacked. It’s the 1992 Dream Team of Best Picture nominees, and consider the following: (1) in 1999, none of them even made the team, which would be like leaving off Magic, Michael, Larry, and Isaiah* in favor of John Starks, AC Green, Christian Laettner*, and a then-4 year old Darko Milicec; (2) I even left off Office Space, Toy Story 2, South Park, The Iron Giant, Ghost Dog, Election, Eyes Wide Shut, The Talented Mr. Ripley, and Boys Don’t Cry, any of which would have been perfectly credible entries (and all of which I at one point or another nearly included in place of Three Kings), and none of THEM made the list of nominees either.

The Cider House Rules?

The Green Mile?

The Insider?

The Sixth Sense?

Are you kidding me? These are forgettable-ish at best (The Sixth Sense, The Insider), and downright terrible in some cases (The Green Mile, The Cider House Rules).

The Academy was sitting at a veritable Brazilian steak house of cinematic destiny, and they filled up at the salad bar. LOLDonkOscarments, as the man says.

*Yes, I know. I am still bitter.

Anyway, it’s nearly impossible for me to decide which of these movies is the winner. I’m tempted to go with my personal favorite, Magnolia, but I know that it annoyed many even as it inspired many. It’s a prickly pear, and probably still too prickly for a solid win. Being John Malkovitch undoubtedly belongs at the table…but is it still too damn weird to get to carve the turkey? I sort of think ‘yes’. Three Kings has the war movie thing going for it, which the Academy loves, but there’s precious little flag-waving in it, which the Academy loves…less.

I think it’s down to Fight Club and The Matrix. I’ll admit that I’m not the biggest fan of The Matrix. I think it has a number of story problems (which blossom to full flower in the sequels), and morally speaking it is about ten times too nihilistic for me. (Look, I realize that the Matrix by its very nature makes all people connected into it potential enemies, but they are still PEOPLE, you know? Having our heroes looking all cool and awesome and just mowing down a bunch of cops without any reflection on either their part or the part of the film is troubling to me, and I suspect it always will be.) However, it is without doubt a touchstone movie and a defining moment in modern popular culture. James Cameron aside, I think its safe to say that Big Spectacle Hollywood is still trying – and failing – to catch it.

"It's a can of whup-ass. Let's open it."

Oh, and speaking of nihilism: Hello, Fight Club, aka the Gonzo American Beauty. Yes, the parallels are certainly there between Tyler Durden’s Diary of A Mad White Man and American Beauty, the actual, considerably more wan, Best Picture winner of 1999. Here we have a movie about a guy much like American Beauty’s Lester Burnham, a guy who realizes the absolute cancerous emptiness of the consumerist American careerist/ consumerist death trap, a guy who is forced to face the impossibility of human contact within the lifestyle that he’s chosen for himself, a guy who (exactly like Lester) responds to this new realization first by acting out, then by aggressively blackmailing his superior into firing him with a dream severance package, and then by dropping out of common society altogether.

You see it, right? The Academy got the zeitgeist right. It just chose the wrong damn picture.

Oh. Unlike Lester Burnham, the unnamed hero of Fight Club becomes a friggin’ terrorist with split personality disorder who by movies end stands hand-in-hand with his damaged girlfriend, listens to the Pixies, and watches the world financial system (built on nonsense – that is to say, credit) and the skyscrapers fall . . .

(Spoilers! Also: Chills!)

Um. Dudes. This movie came out in 1999. No way it gets made today with that ending. But did it have its finger on the pulse?

Answer? Yes.

I am Jack’s Best Picture Oscar.

Best Actor

Kevin Spacey carries American Beauty. Bruce Willis grounds The Sixth Sense. Matt Damon is revelatory in The Talented Mr.Ripley. Keanu Reeves is, um, in The Matrix. That said, you really have to give this to Bradley Pitt, the live wire that makes Fight Club jump. Imagine another actor as Tyler Durden, please. You see? That’s one sad tamale, isn’t it? I recall a time when I thought that Pitt was just another pretty face with not much going on. A Keanu, in other words. After a while, it became clear that he had the Robert Redford charisma gear, and was a genuine movie star who could actually act when needed. I am pretty sure that 12 Monkeys was the moment it became entirely clear that Pitt was an excellent actor, period, and Fight Club was the moment when that promise came to full flower. Brad Pitt is going to be in dozens more movies, I’d imagine, but Durden is rightfully his career definer. Oscar time, please.

Best Actress

You’d be hard-pressed to take this away from Hilary Swank, an actress that I normally can barely tolerate, but who nevertheless gave a performance in Boys Don’t Cry that was so raw and vulnerable and believable and utterly heart-rending that experiencing it almost feels like it should leave scars. On the opposite side of the spectrum, though, we have Reese Witherspoon, who is comedic perfection in Election. (I didn’t know that was going to rhyme like that when I wrote it, so I’m leaving it. Screw.) I don’t think she’d manage to win it retroactively in this fantabulously stacked year, and frankly I’m not sure she even deserves to, but since in almost any other year she’d be the obvious pick, I wanted to mention her here.

What was the Best Picture of 1999? Go to FilmChaw right now and do what you gotta.

Your Weekly Dose Of Awesome

2011-03-17T01:00:00.000-07:00

NSFW, never-ending language and satirical booty-girls.

Reggie Watts is unendingly awesome, and he is here to squeegee your funny-bone. You have been warned.

Best of Formspring 003

2011-03-16T01:00:00.000-07:00

As always, actual questions from actual people, I'm assuming.

Ask me questions right here.

___________

what's a sweetheart like you doing in a blog like this?

Maxin' and relaxin', mainly. Also jamming on the one. Keeping my mind on my money and my money on my mind. You know, all the major components of livin' large.

what's your carbon footprint?

The carbon or 'car bonne' footprint, is a marketing term coined by Honore Lapetite, the eccentric owner of the prewar automobile manufacturer Le Monde. The car bonne footprint is simply a numerical representation of how awesome your car is x how big your feet are. It's mainly used these days as a status symbol on vanity plates.

My carbon footprint is about size 41. It's bigger than my helium footprint, but smaller than my carbon handprint.

since you are a goat and a sucker, have you ever been mistaken for chupacabra?

Mistaken? No.

if cockroaches are to be rebranded, what would you suggest they should be called? any slogans?

That's a very good question, and a very important one. Cockroaches face a lot of undue harassment because of that unfortunate name.

I'd re-brand them as Dickroaches.

As for slogans, let's play on the fact that they are the famous last survivors of any nuclear holocaust. Maybe they can encourage the idea that this makes them our natural defenders.

Imagine a billboard showing a bug wearing wrap-around shades and the following slogan:

"I'm a Dickroach. Come with me if you want to live."

you're not real FBI are you?

I'm not even fake FBI.

what do you think about the god delusion?

I think he's really going to be regretting the last few weeks when the reality of being fired from Two and a Half Men sinks in.

why do conquistadors have such a bad reputation? and i don't mean the coffee?

I think it was all the genocide. However, Conquistadora the Explorer is still popular among small children.

should the US bomb libya and if so into which century?

Uh, I am pretty sure that the current problem is that Libya's own leader is currently bombing Libya. I think we should un-bomb Libya.

That said, if we must bomb a country, I'd like us to try to bomb them FORWARD for once. Let's bomb a country into the 2250's and see what we get.

how many items in your house are from ikea?

I suspect that you are stalking me. This question seems to come from somebody who knows already that I live in an Ikea store.

what's the most insulting question you've been asked?

A man in the grocery store once asked me "when are you due?" and I had only been pregnant for THREE WEEKS!

would you rather own a jet pack or a trained monkey?

Why do I get these Sophie's Choices presented to me? The reason that this is unfair is that there is a major intangible at play here, to wit: WHAT is this monkey trained to DO? Make martinis? Quote South Park? Juggle? Drug Mule? Murder? Is he a toastmaster? Does he just have an encyclopedic understanding of table manners? Can he shuck corn? This is a literal panoply of potential for both horrible, mundane, and wicked-super-awesome.

The jet pack is a known quality and therefore the safer bet.

I'm going with the monkey, though. If its training turns out to be boring or dangerous, I'll at least get a meal out of him, and my understanding is that the paws tend to grant wishes, so I'll probably get my jet pack eventually anyway.

If there were such a thing as 25-30' tall human beings, do you think they would be able to form the same kind of friendly non-hostile relationships with tigers, pumas and other big cats that regular sized humans form with regular sized domesticated cats?

Obviously the answer is "yes," and just as obviously science now has a global moral mandate to make this awesomeness happen. I am also interested in whether or not normal-sized humans would be sold as tiger toys inside of PetSmarts the size of Delaware.

The main problem with this scenario is that it ruins the whimsey of Calvin & Hobbes, since a boy with a pet tiger would no longer be anything unusual.

This is an excellent question, by the way. Anybody who writes me questions -- this is your benchmark.

what do you think about Dyson vacuum cleaners?

I try not to. When I was a kid, a Dyson vacuum cleaner beat me up every day after school.

legalize it?

Sure. You're referring to raw milk, right?

if you start a new country what will your flag look like?

It will be an animated GIF of a dancing baby.

why did my cat die?

Entropy.

what happened to all the questions?

Nothing happened to the questions, honey. They . . . they went to live on a nice farm, where there are kids to love them and plenty of room to run and chase rabbits all day long . . .

ever seen an angel or a ghost?
I've seen dozens, but I don't realize that that's what they were until I read their blogs afterward.

when was the last time you smote someone?

It's been a smitey long time. (I am officially under indictment from the joke police for that answer.)

who's your favorite Gaddafi scion?

Curly Joe.

are you gonna go my way?

Possibly, but it would be a coincidence.

what's your favorite sound in the animal kingdom?

It would have to be the low, keening, achingly gorgeous ululating nocturnal farts of the South Ugandan Yodel-fart Loon.

"South Ugandan Yodel-fart Loon" ? are you just making this up or what?

All of my answers are vetted by a crack staff of FOX News fact-checkers. They've literally got nothing else to do.

what would you say to the martians?

I'd say, "Hi, Martians. Want a nice cashew caramel cluster?" While they were dealing with the chewiness (no teeth), I'd return to the kitchen under the pretense of brewing them some free-trade coffee, sneak onto their ship and link up to their motherboard with my Apple computer, which I understand is 100% Martian compatible. Then I'd find out whether or not they came to conquer us, which frankly I really hope they did, because I poisoned the cashew clusters.

what does it take to join the lollipop guild?

Well, first of course you need to go on your spirit quest to discover the identity of your Spirit Lollipop. Having done that, you need to work on your angry-faced kicks. Then you apply using Munchkin Form MK6789A (available now online at www.munchkin.com.lollipop.oz.gov) and wait for the Ministry of Munchkin Affairs to perform a background check.

This can take over 50 or even 60 years, so it really helps if you have an 'in' at the MMA. Once you're in, you'll be issued your short pants and lollipop and placed on a probationary period not to exceed 30 years. There's a fairly thorough "weeding out" process; as you know, Lollipopping isn't for everybody.

have you ever kid yourself?

As I've said before, I cannot comment on an ongoing investigation.

Your Weekly Dose Of Crazy

2011-03-15T01:00:00.000-07:00

There are so many autotuned mashups these days, you really need to do something special to stand out.

Like this, for example:

Time-Delayed Oscars 009: 1998

2011-03-13T20:12:00.000-07:00

Right after the films of 1997 came the film of 1998. And the year before that had been 1996! Really, it just happened that way. Personally, I am beginning to detect a pattern. If the movies of 1999 follow, this whole thing may be rigged.

The year of our King of the World (1997) was what we might call 'disappointing' to write about, as I first wrestled against, and then finally learned to stop worrying and love, Titanic. Well, OK, not 'love'. More like 'accept the fact that Titanic still casts a long shadow fourteen (!!) years later and will probably still win the Oscar'. It sort of makes me want to start up a "30 years later" series, except then I'd have to wait to do it. What I'd like to do is reiterate that I believe that The Sweet Hereafter is the best film of the year, and will eventually be recognized as such. I'm heartened to see that so many of you agree, as you made it the easy winner in the FilmChaw poll. Not quite the level that we saw with Fargo, which crushed for 1996, but still enough. Good show, Internet!

OK, let's reach the bourgeoisie and rock the boulevard.


"Highness, forgive me for saying so, but you look like some kind of Batman super-villain. We thought you would want to know, you are making babies cry."

Behold All The Movies of 1998, And Despair

And Those The Storm Left Behind

American History X – Edward Norton was awesome in this overly-didactic Tony Kaye flick. Also, you can’t bring up this movie without reliving the grueling curb-stomp scene, the grueling shower scene, and the hilarious basketball scene where Norton dunks.

The Big Lebowski – I must confess, I’ve been considering this movie to be the proof case for the whole Time-Delayed experiment. For most people, this meandering spoof on noir detective tropes was a minor little nothing when it came out, a sort of confusing disappointment from the Coens following their mainstream breakthrough with Fargo. What a difference a decade or so makes, huh? Lebowski has proven to have some serious legs as a cult film and a critical darling. It’s an endlessly quotable, marvelously clever, perfectly daffy movie. It may be the best comedy of the decade.

Blade – Wesley’s Nipes as a vampire hunting vampires, back in an age when vampires were dangerous instead of sparkly. I think there are still a lot of fans of this movie. It did spawn two sequels, after all. Was it any good?

Buffalo '66 – Vincent Gallo made this movie about a stunted man-child ex-con who kidnaps a girl to pose as his wife to impress his parents, who are the cause of all his emotional problems. It’s sort of insane and compelling.

A Bug's Life – If there’s a forgettable Pixar movie, it’s this one. But it’s also possible that there isn’t a forgettable Pixar movie, so I’m mentioning it here. Yep. Um, yep. So…let’s move on.

Bulworth – Warren Beatty raps. This is not a typo. This is actually a seriously under-rated political satire. It falls apart at the end and falls short of the 70s masterpieces like The Candidate and Network to which it clearly aspires, but until then Beatty is serious fun as a senator who loses his marbles and starts telling the truth.

Croupier – Great little gambling noir that introduced Clive Owen as an actor to reckon with.

Elizabeth – Sort of dull-ish but stylish costume drama with a superb Cate Blanchett role. Not her first big role, but definitely the first where she made a big splash.

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas – Another one of those 1998 movies that tanked in the theater but have warranted reconsideration afterward. I tried watching this as a comedy, and I hated it. Then I watched it as a horror film, and I loved it. Arguably Johnny Depp’s finest hour, and required viewing for both fans of Hunter S. Thompson’s book and the oeuvre of Terry Gilliam.

Gods and Monsters – Ian McKellen was a favorite to win Best Actor until Roberto Begnini cold-cocked him on Oscar night. I remember this film fondly, though I don’t hear a whole lot of people these days saying, “hey, remember Gods and Monsters?”

Happiness – Wow, is this the most disturbing funny movie of all time, or is it simply one of the most disturbing movies of all time? It remains Todd Solondz’s most acclaimed offering, and one of the only films (the only one?) that attempts to humanize a pedophile – and that’s only one thread in this twisted little path of woe. I think if Solondz’s post-Happiness films had been better received, it would be a 1998 best picture contender.

Life is Beautiful – Ah, yes, the Holocaust comedy. You know, I actually think that any topic, no matter how controversial or painful, is a valid target for comedy (see the entry directly before this one), but certain topics require a very deft touch when it comes to tone. I think if we know one thing about Roberto Begnini, it’s that he isn’t a particularly deft touch when it comes to tone. He’s more like a shotgun than a sniper rifle, is what I’m saying, and he gives us a movie where a guy gives a whole barracks full of Auschwitz prisoners hilarious and comical instructions so that his son won’t know the horrific truth. It’s a slapsticky feel-goody Holocaust farce. Is the Academy embarrassed yet about falling in love with this one?

Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels – Look out, bad guys; here comes Jason Statham. The Statham is actually a low-key (and approximately 300% less badass) part of a massive ensemble that sees Tarantino’s tough talking thugs, twisting plot, and stylized dialogue, and raises with impenetrable British slang and diction, twice the characters, and three times the nihilism. Still a hell of a lot of fun. Guns for show. Knife for a pro.

Meet Joe Black – This was a total bomb, but I wanted to mention it for the rag-doll-struck-by-two-cars death of Brad Pitt’s character in the first act.

Out of Sight – There should be warnings before a movie that is this stylish and assured and fun. George Clooney came into his own as a movie star in this, and Jennifer Lopez is never better than here (which means that she is actually good). Seriously, from beginning to end Out of Sight is an embarrassment of awesome. Woefully under-appreciated in its day.

Patch Adams – Behold, the end of Robin Williams’ funniness. This movie gave me cancer.

Pi – Darren Aronowsky’s debut. He really wasn’t any mellower back in the day. Are you thinking of the power drill yet?

Rounders – The movie that spawned approximately 67% of the screen names on online poker sites, and 87% of the poker clichés from 1998 until around 2004. This is sort of dated in the internet poker age, and way simplistic for anybody who has followed the evolution of the game over the last decade, but there’s something compelling about the world of Worm and Knish and Mike McD and especially the scenery-destroying John Malkovitch as Teddy KGB.

Run Lola Run – I don’t know; is this one still on the list? It’s on the edge for me. I remember it as being very flashy but ultimately hollow. It was without doubt relevant back in the day, though; an art-house action movie.

Rush Hour – Are we all over our Chris Tucker fascination yet? This was a major hit back in the day, but I think it will be a film that time forgets pretty soon.

Rushmore – Wes Anderson’s Bottle Rocket follow-up is the first movie that fully realizes what is now his signature style. It might be the best of them, too, though it’s not quite my favorite. Do you know that Bill Murray wasn’t even nominated for this? No matter; the rejuvenation of his career began with Rushmore.

Saving Private Ryan – Hold on . . .

Shakespeare In Love – I swear I actually heard the air get sucked out of the room when they called out this movie at the end of the Oscar ceremony. Yep, this was the movie considered Best Picture of 1998. And, once again, I don’t hate it. I actually like it. It’s quite well done. But come on, this is the best movie of the year? Sometimes it’s obvious when the wrong pick has been made. This movie was a well-made middlebrow hit. It’s not an all-time classic. Is it getting into some stirring “Ain’t Cinema Great” montage between clips of On The Waterfront and Taxi Driver? The answer, obviously, is ‘no’. We wouldn’t even be thinking of it if it hadn’t won the major prize. By the way, The King’s Speech just won Best Picture of 2010. Huh, what made me think of that?

A Simple Plan – Very under-rated modern noir gem from a post-Evil Dead, pre-Spider Man Sam Raimi. Watch it if you haven’t. You’ll not regret it.

There's Something About Mary – A mega-hit comedy from the Farrelly brothers that notably raised the bar on outrageousness; I suspect it would seem quaint today. Remember that South Park was only getting warmed up when the ‘hair gel’ gag was considered outré. I always thought that TSAM was overrated by exactly 76.9%, but I’ll always love it a little for two reasons: (1) Matt Dillon’s delivery when he proudly proclaims, “I work with retards”; and (2) for being the only film of the 90s bold enough to take on the issue of the disparity between the spelling and the pronunciation of Brett Favre’s name.

The Thin Red Line – Hold on . . .

The Truman Show – Ladies and gently-men, I give you the most overrated film of 1998! I remember that magazines had practically given it (and Jim Carrey) the Oscar before it came out. It seems to think it has a lot to say about either (1) our celebrity culture or (2) the human condition, but it’s actually (3) ludicrous. The premise – unlimited technology and resources are spent in order to stage what is essentially a very dull (yet inexplicably globally popular) reality show about a very dull man – is just unbelievable enough to be distracting, but it’s played just straight enough that you have to try to push through and accept it at face value, which is hard work. It’s ironic given how much credit Carrey was given for dialing back his manic persona in service to this film, but a broader comic tone might have helped sell the premise a bit better. (I’ll now back up and say that it’s not a terrible movie, and Carrey in particular is actually pretty good in it, but damn, 1998. Get a grip.)

Velvet Goldmine – A minor independent film from Todd Haynes about the glam rock scene starring a pre-superstar Christian Bale. It’s still well-remembered by aficionados, which indicates to me that I should probably watch it.

Wild Things – This movie will always be remembered for one thing: the dialogue.

You've Got Mail – This is the third and (to date) final Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan romantic comedy, and I’m guessing the late 90s computer theme makes it easily the most comically dated movie of the year. Never mind that, though, this thing was awful to start with. Let’s sum up: Tom Hanks’ big business book chain owner is going to crush the family business of small independent bookstore owner Meg Ryan, little knowing that Ryan is the woman he’s fallen in love with online. Then he finds out. Then he crushes her anyway. Then she cries a lot. Then she loves him, because it is the end of the movie. This movie can be summed up by one word, and that word is “gloorrmf?” At least it lives up to its product placement: It is the AOL of romantic comedies. I have been waiting 13 long years to write this rant down. I feel better now.

War is hell. It's still not as bad as You've Got Mail.

And the Time-Delayed Oscars Go To:

Best Picture

Real List: Elizabeth, Life Is Beautiful, Saving Private Ryan, Shakespeare In Love, The Thin Red Line

Today’s List: The Big Lebowski, Out of Sight, Rushmore, Saving Private Ryan, The Thin Red Line

My Choice: The Thin Red Line

We really have an embarrassment of riches this year; not only of great movies, but of great movies that are now generally recognized as such. I think Lebowski would actually be a contender today, given that the Coens are officially recognized Big Damn Geniuses now, and the fact that Lebowski is one of their most beloved movies wouldn’t hurt, either. However, it’s just too goofy and shambling and weird, and it’s a comedy. Academy don’t like comedy as much. They’d rather be taken seriously. Ironically, they’d be taken more seriously if they recognized movies like Lebowski, but whatever. Similarly, Out of Sight and Rushmore would be in the running, but one is a breezy and enjoyable heist flick and the other one is an idiosyncratic story about a teenaged misfit. They’re out.

So really, this is a race between two World War II movies. Now, WWII is the ultimate catnip to the Academy, but these actually happen to be among the greatest war movies of all time, so I think their head-to-head battle is appropriate. My preference is for the absolutely gorgeous, meditative and detached rumination on beauty and horror that Terrence Malick delivered (honestly, I’ve never seen a war movie that’s anything like it, and it’s been burrowing its way into my soul since I watched it), but I have little doubt that the hardware would be going to Steven Spielberg’s technically astounding Saving Private Ryan, an excellent movie marred somewhat by a misleading and unnecessary framing device. Ryan is definitely more popular, more influential (it pretty much re-wrote the war film playbook) and more accessible than Line, and it’s entirely deserving.

Best Actor

There’s plenty of ways we could go, all of them better than the actual winner (Roberto Begnini the Holocaust clown). Tom Hanks gives what is in my opinion his finest performance in Saving Private Ryan. George Clooney anchored Out of Sight. Edward Norton was a force of nature in American History X, and Johnny Depp gave great gonzo. In the end, I’m calling it for Jeff Bridges in his most iconic role as The Dude. Every time I watch Lebowski I’m amazed at the Dude-ish perfection that Bridges brings to his accidental shamus/bowler/ex-hippie/occasional wearer of pants. It’s just about perfecto. There’s any number of award-worthy Bridges performances (in fact, he just got awarded for one of them recently); but it’s as The Dude that he’ll be remembered.

Best Actress

This was a two-way race between Gwyneth Paltrow in Shakespeare in Love and Cate Blanchett in Elizabeth, and I think it still is. However, I think the Academy would now zag instead of zig. I say this mainly based on my understanding of the current reputations of both. I’d argue that, without the imprimatur of Best Picture for Shakespeare, both actress’s films would be remembered equally well, which is to say not very, but there sure was some fine actin’, wasn’t there? Paltrow’s relative disappearing act since winning, compared with Blanchett’s awards show ubiquity, suggest that it is now Blanchett who is considered the finer actress, and who therefore would have the inside track to the win.

What was the Best Picture of 1998? Go vote at FilmChaw!

Survive Donkey Island: My Island Diary 006

2011-03-10T19:29:00.000-08:00

Hi, friends. I got voted off Donkey Island. No goofy obfuscating nonsense required any more, so let me tell you how. I had a nice little alliance within Team Donkey, but as the merge began to loom, I began to become paranoid that one of my alliance was orchestrating a post-merge flip-a-roo on me and some of my crew. I was right about my suspicions; but I was wrong about my suspect. Jordan, who I blindsided and backstabbed into oblivion, was not the man to fear. I now suspect that he would have stuck with me at least as far as I had been planning to stick with him. Sorry, dude. We had the game in our hands and I blew it up.

Worse than that, I timed my backstab wrong. The hope had been to win event 5, go into to merge up 7-3, and then zing Jordan in event 6, leaving his partner (and vile schemer) Jamy Hawk high and dry and without recourse; as even a flip to the Fish would then leave him at 5-4.

But we didn't win immunity in event 5, and we had to spring it early. This alerted Jamy and despite my attempts to calm him, he immediately (and wisely) he joined the Fish, leaving us deadlocked in a 5-5 tie. I'd feared this might happen, but I figured it would come down to the poker: a heads-up match between our target (SmBoatDrinks) and whosoever they chose. A coinflip, basically. I was wrong. Somehow Jamy managed to flip one of my five, killed me, skinned me, and ate me.

"Uh-uh fool. You don't take me out -- I take YOU out."

I won't say who of my group Jamy flipped because I am not 100% sure. I do know it's one of two people, though, and I will be watching their fate closely to see if they chose wisely when they left me behind for an unholy Donkeyfish union. Personally, I suspect that they did not. Katitude just hit the skids last night, creating a 4-4 tie between Fish and Donkeys. This means that it is now obvious to any paying attention that the Jamy/Fish merger is playing out to the end, which is not what I would have gone with. Frankly, I am of the opinion that the Fish will vote off any remaining Donkeys as soon as they have the numbers; which will be soon. We shall see.

As for my feelings regarding the game, I am beyond pleased with how much I have enjoyed playing, and how much others seem to be enjoying their participation. The Donkey Island prop bet has added a level of intrigue and speculation and creativity and fun to blogger tournies that I am very proud to have been a part of. It's a shame that my personal game is done, but I console myself in the knowledge that I played a bold strategy designed to take me to the end, and that my gambit, while risky, nearly paid off. I will tip my hat to Jamy for being smart enough to recognize that he needed to vote me off right then to have a hope of winning, and for finding a way to accomplish this. Also, kudos to Slightly Josie for somehow convincing some of the Donkeys to stay with her alliance even after she wasn't needed, effectively giving the game back to the Fish. That's some Jedi mind tricks.

"Oh no you DI'INT try to vote Josie out!"

You guys, seriously, get out there and play. Next event is Sunday, and remember, Full Tilt Poker and Al Can't Hang added $100 to the prize pool!

Survive Donkey Island 009
Full Tilt Poker
$5 + $1 Multi Table
March 13, 2011
9:30 PM EST
password: survive

Your Weekly Dose Of Awesome

2011-03-10T01:00:00.000-08:00

This is the best film montage I've seen yet.

Full screen is mandatory; this is pure cinema.

Occasionally NSFW, nudity and violence.

Take 5 - Week of 3/4

2011-03-08T19:06:00.000-08:00

Hey people. If you're looking for my post-mortem on my sadly short-lived Survivor career, you'll have to wait a bit. Tomorrow, probably. Meanwhile, check out my latest for Full Tilt Poker over at the Poker From the Rail blog, and comment there -- it'll make me look good.

__________

This week was a super-exciting one in the world of poker, but never mind all that. Exciting is for other people, not for the likes of me. Here’s my nonsense:

5. Gold Coast Closes. Yes, sadly but truly, the Coast has announced that their poker room is officially “closed”, which means “replaced by a few banks of slot machines.” With poker rooms now restricted to only the Rio, the Orleans, the Venetian, Caesar’s Palace, Bill’s, The Excalibur, New York, New York, The Bellagio, The Stratosphere, The Imperial Palace, Circus Circus, Harrah’s, The MGM Grand, Planet Hollywood, The Luxor, Mandalay Bay, Aria, The Mirage, Bally’s, Monte Carlo, O’Shea’s, The Sahara, Treasure Island, Flamingo, The Encore and the Wynn, could this be a sign that the “poker boom” is finally over?

4. Bluff Magazine Announces Their Power 20 – The powerful poker magazine has given a powerful list of powerful poker people, which means the people who hold the most influence in the poker world, as it turns out. I was disappointed to discover that this was not a ranking based on odor, but the newsstand guy wouldn’t let me return it. You’ve been warned.

Read the Rest at Poker From The Rail.

Your Weekly Dose of Crazy

2011-03-08T01:00:00.000-08:00

"Frog?"
"S. Frog, sir."
"Shut up. Would you come in, please? Shut the door, have a seat."
"What is it?"
"It's about your latest spot, Frog."
"S. Frog, sir."
"Shut up."
"Yes, sir. You mean the vaguely horrifying one for the completely innocuous product?"
"The very one I want to discuss."
"What about it, sir?"
"Well, it's horrifying, but we find that it isn't quite awfully horrifying enough yet."
"Aren't the viewers defecating in fear, sir?"
"Some of them are, Frog."
"S. Frog, sir."
"Shut up. Some of them are, but not ALL. We want people to think not only of cannibalism, Frog, we want them to think of cannibalism of their own families and loved ones, do you understand me?"
"Well...we could make the soup blood red, sir."
"By Jove, I think that would do it, Frog."
"S. Frog, sir."
"Shut up. Make the soup blood red, Frog."

Time-Delayed Oscars 008: 1997

2011-03-07T07:55:00.000-08:00

This is going to be a weird year; there were some genuinely great movies to come out in 1997, some of which haven’t yet received their full due, others of which have simply faded from our regard… and then there’s a giant 900 lb. gorilla in the room. A technically amazing, poorly-written, extremely high grossing gorilla who sometimes sounds like Celine Dion.

Will our hearts go on? Let’s find out.

Ian Holm and Sarah Polley contemplate the fact that they have
no shot at the 1997 Oscars.

Here’s Every Movie of 1997.

And The Survivors:

Air Bud – OK, I’m kidding. This movie was probably terrible. I certainly will never watch it.

The Apostle – AKA Robert Duvall’s tour-de force as actor/writer/director. This may be his greatest performance. He brought it to the screen almost by himself. It was almost totally ignored. I think the love for this movie is growing slowly. The day will come when suddenly the world of film history will take another look and realize what has been buried.

As Good As It Gets – One of the most beloved movies of 1997, both then and now, which obscures what a mess this thing is. Jack Nicholson is given one of his best opportunities ever to play The Jack Nicholson Character – and yes, he is sure enough given some of his most hilarious lines in an age to say, and yes, he does tear into those lines with gusto. But his character is just such a terminal louse, and his semi-redemption seems so tacked on and unearned. I’m being unduly harsh, because I actually enjoyed it, but as cinema it’s a pretty good TV movie. I think this movie is good eating, but it’s fast food.

Austin Powers – The movie that launched a million catchphrases. Or, perhaps, the same catch phrase a million times. A middling semi-success in theaters, it was such a hit on video that it catapulted Michael Myers into headlining movie-star territory the likes of which had only been seen by a handful of SNL stars (arguably only Eddie Murphy ever got bigger than Myers at his biggest, though you could make a case for Bill Murray and Chevy Chase). Myers used his newfound clout to make the exact same movie two more times, and then appear in a series of decent-to-excruciating movies as the voice of a Scottish troll.

Batman & Robin – This movie was the worst thing ever and should never be forgotten as such. However, it did end Chris O’Donnell’s movie career, so it wasn’t for nothing.

Boogie Nights – PT Anderson’s LA porn epic was his first big grab at the Scorsese crown and dangnabbit, if he didn’t pull off an at least temporary coup. Features include maybe a dozen of the more indelible scenes of the year, an entire stable of great actors on the cusp of stardom (seriously, look at it; Phillip Seymour Hoffman probably has 12^th billing), one of the more infectious soundtracks of the decade, and Burt Reynold’s last fleeting moment of relevance.

The Butcher Boy – OK, does anybody remember this movie? It’s one of the most amazing things I’ve seen. Neil Jordan gets a performance out of child actor Eamonn Owens that is a miracle. Eamonn who? Exactly. But trust me, this isn’t just one of the best child performances of the decade; it’s one of the best performances of any kind. I think the movie was just obscure enough that the baffled Academy was able to sort of ignore it.

Chasing Amy – I remember when Kevin Smith movies were nearly as fun as Kevin Smith speaking engagements. This was the first movie of note starring Ben Affleck, and to watch it today is to watch what might have been if he had been allowed to grow into his likeable but flawed everyman shoes instead of trying to wear Bruce Willis’ big boy action boots. Jason Lee is a genius in this movie. Jay and Silent Bob barely appear in this, still to date Smith’s best movie. This is not a coincidence.

Donnie Brasco – Ah, when Johnny Depp played human beings instead of a sequence of space alien schoolgirls in a variety of funny hair. Come back, Johnny, I miss you, man. Al Pacino in Donnie Brasco . . . oh man. Do you remember this performance? Do you remember him leaving his watch behind as he goes to his fate? How is this movie not better remembered? I see Brasco on the Godfather/Goodfellas axis, with Godfather showing the upper class, Goodfellas the middle class, and Brasco the working stiffs of the mob.

Face/Off – This is a pretty special movie. Something that John Woo should keep in mind as he makes his movies: He’s so over-the-top in such a self-serious way that the only thing to do is to cast in the lead roles crazy people who don’t mind dialing the scenery chewing up to 11, the better to make your film the comedy it really is. Face/Off is a masterpiece of ludicrous cheese. I loved every silly second of it. And you know what? Cage and Travolta are GREAT in this. I won’t hear otherwise.

The Fifth Element – John Baptiste Emanuel ZORG. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I rest my case.

Funny Games – This home-invasion exercise in sadism and audience implication is an early stage-setter for Michael Haneke. He went and made a near shot-for-shot English remake a few years back for some reason. I haven’t seen it yet. It scares me.

The Game – David Fincher, Michael Douglas, Sean Penn, and about 7000 plot holes. I don’t care, this one is fan-flipping-tastic. One of the best genre pictures and one of the most under-rated movies of the year and many other years around it. You know what? Between this and Face/Off and The Fifth Element and Donnie Brasco and The Butcher Boy and The Apostle, this is turning into an absolute killer year for movies with either great cheese factor or great performances, or both, and some fantastic genre pieces . . . it’s just very weird, because I don’t think most of these are properly loved even now. It’s like that monster boat took the whole year in film down to the bottom of the Atlantic with it.

Gattaca – Another under-rated sleeper. This one’s actually sort of B-level, not as smart as it thinks it is (and surrounded by movies that are smarter than they let on) but it brought us Jude Law and it still is shorthand for “genetic science moral quandary.”

Good Will Hunting – Wow. Watch this movie again and tell me if I’m wrong but . . .it’s just really uneven, isn’t it? The parts that are good (starting with Matt Damon, who is excellent in the title role) are really, really good; but the parts that aren’t (the surface-level pop psychology first and foremost) really aren’t. Nevertheless, it’s a well-remembered film, and one that has Robin Williams mercifully playing the Wise Shrink role in a minor key, which he excels at.

Jackie Brown – I know I sound like a fanboy, but Quentin Tarantino hasn’t made a bad movie yet. However, his penchant for surprising stylistic turns has disappointed his fans before, and Brown was a big first bump in the road for people expecting more Reservoir Dogs/Pulp Fiction from QT. This Elmore Leonard adaptation is top-notch, though, and the themes of finding your place in a world you’re aging out of are just starting to ring true for me. I think this may be a film you age into, which is all the more extraordinary considering that it was made by a guy in his early thirties. Check it out again, and marvel at the nearly full minute of screen time Samuel L. Jackson’s character is given to think about who stole his mothafuckin’ money. Not many movies have the trust in the audience and actors to allow these sorts of beats.

LA Confidential – One of the best neo-noirs ever. Russell Crowe and Guy Pearce just popped out of nowhere to become major stars in their own right. Kevin Spacey gives one of his better performances right in the middle of a pretty sick tear of great performances. Kim Basinger channels old-school Hollywood star wattage. This is a crime flick of the best kind, the kind that just doesn’t get made all that much. I sort of wish I was watching it again.

Lost Highway – This would be a much more critically beloved (or at least acclaimed) movie, I’m convinced, if it weren’t seen as such a dry run for the all time David Lynch classic, Mulholland Drive, released a few year later. Still, if 1997 has a creepier scene than the “Call me/Ask me” bit between Bill Pullman and Robert Blake, I am not aware of it.

Men In Black – Will Smith arrived in Independence Day. He blasted off in this, but my favorite moments of MIB come from bit players, like David Cross as a David Cross kind of person and Siobhan Fallon as the confused wife of the movie’s comedic masterpiece, Edgar the Bug Man (Vincent D’Onofrio).

Princess Mononoke – Japan’s highest grosser (I think) until the Great Big Boat That Could (Sink) came along. That was a long time on top there, Princess Mononoke. I’d like to say this: Animator Hideo Miyizaki is a friggin’ genius, and everybody should watch every single one of his movies. That said, Mononoke is one of his lesser efforts, in quality if not in scope. I like my Miyazaki dreamy.

Starship Troopers – Haven’t seen this war against aliens cum satire of military fascism, but it (and the films of Paul Verhovan in general) are getting a critical reclaimation. Maybe it’s time to.

The Sweet Hereafter – Atom Egoyan’s devastating masterpiece of sorrow. Ian Holm as an ambulance chaser who secretly shares in the mourning of a town that lost their children in one fell swoop. This movie will hurt you and help you. It has often appeared at or near the top of critic’s “best of the 90s” lists. It is entirely, terribly and unequivocally great.

Titanic – Hold on . . .

Wag the Dog – Mainly remembered today for popularizing a phrase that was already sort of out there. This David Mamet production features Robert DeNiro as a politico and Dustin Hoffman as a film producer who make a war up out of whole cloth because the president wants to distract the country. This was a satire until 2003, at which point it retroactively became a documentary.


"Rose, listen to me. You need to live. You need to go on. In about 35 years a baby named Celine Dion will be born in Canada. You have to kill that baby. So it is very important that you don't die."

And the Time-Delayed Oscar Goes To:

Best Picture:

Real List: As Good As It Gets, The Full Monty, Good Will Hunting, LA Confidential, Titanic

Today’s List: As Good As It Gets, Boogie Nights, Good Will Hunting, LA Confidential, Titanic

My Pick: The Sweet Hereafter

This kind of hurts. First, let me say that I saw Titanic in the theaters, and I really liked it at the time. I thought (and still think) that in many ways it was a very well-made and involving motion picture.

That being said, whether you think it was good or whether you think it was nightmarishly awful, we can all come together to admit that this wasn’t the best movie of this or any year, right? The script hit all the right story beats, albeit in a totally by-the-numbers sort of way, but the dialogue was occasionally cringe-worthy, and some of the acting (looking at you, Billy Zane) was imported from the silent era of very big mugging.

I liked Titanic. It’s a throwback spectacle movie (few films suffer more in the translation to home video), and at its best it puts you right there on the boat. At its worst, it plays you a Celine Dion tune while an old lady throws a piece of fashion jewelry right over the side.

Titanic was in some aspects a great movie, in some aspects a merely good movie, and in some aspects not all that good at all. Wherever you land, I bet you do not consider it the best movie of the year, and I think in time we’ll ALL know that.

But you know what? This movie was such a phenomenon that more than a decade’s time just isn’t enough. I kind of think it would still win the Oscar even today. It was HA-YUGE, people. Whereas The Sweet Hereafter, which I still believe will win posterity, was very tiny. So my pick for the movie that would probably win Best Picture of 1997, even today, is, sigh, Titanic.

Best Actor

Difficult to say. Jack Nicholson took it this year for what is still a beloved role. This was sort of the last time he really got a chance to play The Feisty Jack Nicholson Guy instead of The Almost-Dead Guy With Moobs and Broccoli Eyebrows, and he does it really, really well in a very funny performance. He may still be the guy to beat. However, there’s a lot of people who might fit the bill, based on the fact that they gave more impressive performances rather than resting on an established movie-star persona. Russell Crowe in LA Confidential, Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting, Ian Holm in The Sweet Hereafter, Eamonn Owen in The Butcher Boy, and Johnny Depp and Al Pacino both in Donnie Brasco, all fit the bill. (This was a VERY good year for performances, at least male lead performances.)

But really, guys? It’s Robert Duvall this year. See The Apostle and tell me otherwise. It’s one of the performances of the decade. I think this has been forgotten, but I spent all my cynicism on the Best Picture category. It’s time to recognize.

Best Actress

If it’s possible that Jack doesn’t win anymore, there’s no way Helen Hunt can still ride those coat-tails, especially given the exactly nothing of note that she’s delivered to the silver screen since then. Once again, though, we’re faced with a chronic Hollywood malady: The Curse Of The Not Many Well-Developed Roles for Women. They really they probably could have spent a bit more time naming that malady.

You know who I think gets it? Pam Grier for Jackie Brown. It’s a great role made just for her and she is awesome in it. There was Oscar talk for her in 1997 but the movie underperformed and she didn’t even get a nomination. She shines in Jackie Brown. Give her the gold.

What was the Best Picture of 1997? Vote at FilmChaw!

Survive Donkey Island: My Island Diary 005

2011-03-05T20:33:00.000-08:00

And then, in the fourteenth day of Donkey Island, the fish did muse upon a merging with the donkeys, and the LORD was sore wroth, and then did the LORD sayeth unto Buddy Dank, "Lo, I am aggrieved that such an abomination as this donkeyfish should have come into the world, and then didst Buddy Dank say, "Well EX-CUUUUUUUUUUSE me", and the didst the LORD laugh, and create the platypus."

So anyway. Here we are at the merge. No more official teams, and immunity will be every donkeyfish for themselves. Whoever lasts longer lives another day, and the rest of us? Maybe not so much.

There's just one thing to do, y'all: Survive.

Or, if you aren't in the game, mess up everybody's chances. Come one, come all. Oh, and this will probably be the last rebuy of the series, for what it is worth.

Survive Donkey Island 007
Full Tilt Poker
$1 + $1 Rebuy
March 6, 2011
9:30 PM EST
password: survive

The Donkey Island Diary of Julius_Goat

Day 12: I think there's a general level of jubilation in the Donkey camp at this point. Euphoria, perhaps. First of all, I'm totally healed from eating some sort of yellowish fungus I found at the base of a palm tree four days ago, and am no longer hallucinating. We've been on a regular tear through the immunity challenges and now are looking at at least a 2 person lead going into any merger.

"It'll be a FOUR person lead if we win tonight," crows Jordan, whose scalp is finally healed.

"Which we will," I say.

"Jordan has a demon in him," a passing monkey whispers to me. "You have to take his brain out to fix him. Open his head with a sharp rock."

Huh. It's possible that I was premature in diagnosing myself free of all hallucination.

If this is your adviser, you probably should think about making a change.

Day 13: The day started out promisingly enough: All seven of us hit the beach to face a rather rag-tag looking group of Fish. Buddy Dank explains the challenge, which seems simple enough. We need to shimmy up some palm trees, gather the nuts that grow in clusters at the top, bring the nuts to the craft tables that have been set up near the beach for this very purpose, then use glue and sparklers to assemble them into a bedazzled sculpture of William F. Buckley.

Child's play, I know, but unfortunately I'm still as weak as a kitten and unable to climb the tree. I collapse in a heap, panting. One by one I see our tribe succumbing to the hazards of palm tree trickery, while the Fish doggedly hang in there; not too far up, but still working at it. Eventually, it's only the rawheaded kid Jordan still in the game for the Donkeys; he's near the nuts but not as close as Joe C. Very and this guy who looks like a snapping turtle. Jordan's doing well and making up ground, when suddenly this crazy person bashes his head with a sharp rock, killing him immediately.

Oh yeah, that was me. Oops.

So I am writing this in our camp's makeshift prison, which was made specifically to house me. They're deciding whether or not to let me have any of the Jordan stew, and it doesn't sound like they are. Also, they're thinking about killing me with sharp sticks. I really need to stop listening to what monkeys say.

Your Weekly Dose Of Awesome

2011-03-04T07:39:00.001-08:00

Mixmaster Pogo turns movies into music. He's really good at it.

Survive Donkey Island: My Island Diary 004

2011-03-02T22:10:00.000-08:00

Every day of my life, fans come slinking shyly up to me, pens and napkins in hand.

"Gee Mr. Goat," they say. "Will you sign my napkin?"

I don't, of course. And I laugh at them as I refuse. I know that sounds cruel and cold, but in my defense, I really am very wealthy.

Anyway, after I've turned down my adoring fans, they always have the questions. "Mr. Goat, how do you win at everything you do? What makes you such a winner at everything you do: surfing, spycraft, glassware, casino games, eating contests, juggling slot machines, web design, fashion, high jumping, yo-yo, picking the best slots, hang gliding, dog training, winning, online slot machines, Muppet criticism, swordplay, banter, snorkeling, and much much more?"

This awe at my skills carries over to my latest venture: the poker/reality endeavor on Donkey Island.

The answer obviously, is that I am a winner. Winner! I win like a winner! You don't. Loser. Winning, what I can do, you wouldn't imagine, I am like a cyclops with seven eyes and like a million deltoid muscles. I can grow my full head of hair seven inches in an hour and then pull it back into my head with my mind.

Uh-oh, Emilio and Tom Cruise are here to stage my intervention.

Anyway, here's my winning Island Diary.

The Donkey Island Diary of Julius_Goat

My team.

Day 8: The jungle fever thoroughly has me in its evil clutches now. My only friend is a banana tree named Samuel who brings me cocktails and tells me stories, but I am beginning to worry that my incapacity will make me a target for elimination, or even worse, elimidate-ion. That show was awful.

BrainMC and Much Tim drag my half-incapacitated carcass to the beach for our immunity challenge. They prop up my head on some nearby coconuts so that I can watch the action. I may be hallucinating, but it seems like the challenge involves some sort of jet-pack laser gun battle against bird-lizards. Given that this is a $20 a head prop bet, I wonder how we got the budget for the bird-lizards.

My team merges to form a gigantic robot and destroys the others with a lava lamp/laser saw, their screams of agony ringing out across the bright blue water as the sun looks down on the carnage like some unfeeling chthonic eye.

The surviving members of Team Fish haul off the old lady, Hoyazo, and drag her howling into the jungle, and as the darkness closes in on me it occurs to me that I'm on the right team.

Day 9: too hot too cold too hot too hot too cold never thought I could Samuel help me please forgive me I see a pale man before me water I need the water too hot too cold

Watch out where the huskies go
and please don't eat the yellow snow.

Day 10: The good news is that I'm alive and recovering. Turns out you shouldn't eat the yellow snow, especially if you find it on a tropical island. (Not to self: That's probably something you should already have been aware of. Work on impulse control.) Luckily, silent Kat is an expert at alternative medicine and was able to make a compote out of some herbaceous vines that grow wild on the island and serve as a natural emetic.

The bad news is that I have another challenge ahead of me, and I'm weak as a baby seal. Clearly I'm the weakest link on this team and must get my strength back before I'm killed and eaten.

However, there's one last piece of good luck. This is a puzzle challenge, not a physical one. It's one of those deals where you have a grid of squares that can slide around, with one space empty to allow sliding, which, when properly arranged, will form themselves into a picture. Even better, it turns out that Team Fish is missing an additional member. One of their tribe, who allegedly played two days ago while I succumbed to fever, has been otherwise entirely missing. Her name is Summer-something-or-other, and apparently she has been sitting out, claiming that she wants to stay "real" by greeting the sun each dawn. Of course, staying up all night to greet the dawn leaves Summer too exhausted to participate in challenges.

This is all told to me by the increasingly grizzled middle aged stock-trader Joe C. Very of Team Fish. "I tell you what, buddy," mutters Joe C in his thick Brooklyn, "we don't win dis one, we'll be keeping that dawn Summer chick 'real', all right. We'll be keepin' her 'real'-ly off dis island."

There is a twist to this challenge, in that the puzzles don't have any sort of picture on them yet. Apparently we each need to paint the other person's puzzle in our own team's colors and then scramble it for them to solve. I fancy myself a bit of an artist, so I take our Team Donkey blue and draw a perfectly serviceable donkey on the puzzle, then scramble the tiles with weakened muscles. Joe C. is the other team's painter, and is halfway through crafting a (quite well-done) swordfish on our puzzle in Team Fish orange when the bucket spills, completely dousing him. Poor Joe C. is orange head to foot. Ouch. That paint looks like it will be hard to get off.

With Joe off his game following his painty immersion, Team Fish is thrown off balance and can't complete their puzzle in time. "No problemo," I hear Joe say as Team Fish stalks off. " Summer vacation is about to end."

Your Weekly Dose Of Crazy

2011-03-01T10:33:00.000-08:00

Some weeks I have trouble deciding between whether an entry is "crazy" or "awesome."

This is not one of those weeks.

Tonight's Oscar Picks

2011-02-27T10:14:00.000-08:00

For the record: The King's Speech, Fincher, Firth, Portman, Bale, Leo.

Time-Delayed Oscars 007: 1996

2011-02-27T09:47:00.000-08:00

You know the old saying: “An awesome, fun vacation with your family will wreak havoc with your schedule for a series of Time-Delayed Oscars blog posts”?

Well, that saying is true.

Anyway, this week brings us to 1996, which I think was a year that actually happened once, though Wikipedia is still asking for a citation to verify this. Since it’s been a while, here’s a refresher for the groundlings:

Time Delayed Oscars is predicated on the idea that time itself picks the true quality in movies. Each year, we the mass of casual movie watchers, film aficionados, and habitual renters decide which movies will last in the public consciousness; we do this by deciding what we still want to watch, through pop culture references, through pastiche, through homage, and even through which posters we put on our dorm room walls.

Here we go.

"Listen honey, I know you're not a big Monty Python fan, but I've got
to ask: This would be the perfect time to do the whole 'I'm not dead yet'
routine from Grail. Chance of a lifetime. Would you mind?"

All The Movies of 1996

Sometimes These Come Back

Bottle Rocket – This one is special, guys. You know those bullets that make a tiny entrance wound but an exit wound the size of a pie plate? That’s this movie. Owen Wilson and Wes Anderson (and yes, OK, Luke Wilson, too) made a tiny little splash in the cinematic ocean with Bottle Rocket, but since then there’s been an explosion underwater somewhere. Without a doubt Anderson’s least polished work, it’s still one of his best. A little classic.

Breaking the Waves – Emily Watson and the rather divisive auteur Lars von Trier first came to the attention of the general U.S. moviegoing public when Watson received a (well-deserved) Oscar nomination for her devastating portrayal of a devout, nearly suicidally-sacrificial young woman (a recurring theme of von Trier’s). The rather controversial ending is still a favorite of mine, as von Trier breaks the naturalistic, gritty formalism of his self-created “Dogma 95” rules in an audacious commentary on the divide between religion and divinity.

The Cable Guy – The first Jim Carrey box office disappointment is also the first Jim Carrey movie to hint at the strains of darkness and complexity that would mark some of Old Rubberface’s more interesting roles.

The English Patient – This is 1996’s Best Picture laureate, which should come as no surprise, since it’s essentially the How To Make A Best Picture template. It’s beautifully shot and gorgeous to look at. It’s well-acted by British people. It’s historical. It’s epic. It’s very tastefully done. It has basically no sharp edges or anything that might be the slightest bit challenging (it completely jettisons the moment in the book when the gentle-nature Sikh sapper Kip explodes in fury at the dropping of atomic bombs in Nagasaki and Hiroshima, which is only one of the two emotional climaxes). I don’t know if anybody is interested in watching it again, ever, or why they might want to do so, short of curiosity after finishing Michael Ondaatje’s superb novel. It also has Colin Firth in a supporting role, and Colin Firth is the star of a very nicely-acted British historical movie called The King’s Speech. I don’t know why I brought that up.

Everyone Says I Love You – Am I the only person who thinks this was Woody Allen’s most enjoyable movie –by a mile – of the nineties? A return to a sort of silly whimsical Woody, and most of the cast doesn’t embarrass themselves with the singing. Also, any movie that has two dozen Groucho Marxes (Grouchoes Marx?) in pith helmets singing “Hooray for Captain Spaulding” in French is going to be Good People in my book.

Fargo – For some reason, Fargo represents the moment when the world at large started paying attention to the Coen Brothers; kind of analogous to the moment when your favorite indie band turns into a rock superpower. I think this is middle-drawer Coens, which is still a very good movie indeed. It’s top of the middle drawer. Maybe bottom of the top drawer. Anyway, people are still watching and quoting and thinking about Fargo, its pregnant no-nonsense sheriff, its wood chipper, its impeccably staged double-murders, and its deadpan aping of Northern Midwest patois, but I remain bemused that this was the breakout album and not (say) Miller’s Crossing or Raising Arizona.

Fear – I don’t think this is remembered, but I do remember seeing the box in the video store. It was the moment I thought, “Huh. So I guess they’re going to keep letting Marky Mark make movies.”

Flirting With Disaster – David O. Russell’s studio debut (he made an uber indie called Spanking the Monkey) with Daniel Faraday a few years prior. I haven’t seen it. Anybody here still love it?

Hamlet – Man, Kenneth Branagh was on fire with this faithful Shakespeare adaptation. To my tastes, this is 95% the most gorgeously made movie of the year (the other 5%, in particular the ghost scene and some ill-advised stunt casting, went for the gusto and missed), and Branagh gives one of the performances of the decade as the Dane. Strangely, I’m in a minority here; the movie hasn’t had much attention in the last 15 years. I’m including it anyway, because this is THE definitive film Hamlet.

Happy Gilmore – King Adam Sandler ruled for 12 years. This is by consensus his best movie. Let’s all say it together: “The Price is WRONG, bitch!”

Hard Eight – P.T. Anderson’s debut is a twisty little noir. It’s not much known, but I include it here as a sign of what was to come.

Independence Day – This big stupid summer blockbuster distinguishes itself from the mass of big dumb summer blockbusters that have been completely forgotten for two reasons: First, it’s so committed to its big and its dumb that it achieves a sort of lasting purity, and second, (Bad Boys aside) this was the moment when Will Smith broke loose from the sitcom set and established himself as a Big Damn Star. Welcome to earth, indeed.

The Island of Dr. Moreau – A massive stinkbomb that effectively killed both Val Kilmer and Marlon Brando. A camp classic today.

Jerry Maguire – SHOW ME THE MONEY! A big hit when it came out, it then surprised everybody (by which I mean me) when it got nominated for a bunch of Oscars, including Picture and Actor. Cuba Gooding Jr.even won for Best Supporting Actor, and immediately parlayed his newfound credibility into forming a production company dedicated to creating genuine artistic expression. Either that, or he started making movies that required him to bug out his eyes a lot and share the screen with talking dogs. Oy. Anyway, Maguire remains one of the most-liked movies of this year. And it has a kid with like a 70 lb. head in it.

Kingpin – We all know now that this – and not There’s Something About Mary – is the best of the Farrelly Brothers’ movies, right? Right? Good. Let’s move on.

Lone Star – This slow paced, character driven story about a Texas sheriff solving a decades-old crime is the last time that I can remember John Sayles getting widespread critical praise. It was a little movie that few had heard of when it came out, and it remains just that, but when critics talk about the greats of the year (or sometimes even of the entire decade), this one will invariably be on the list.

Mars Attacks! – This completely insane movie is the last Tim Burton film that I actually like without qualifications. You need to surrender to the madness and let go of expectations, though, or you’re in for a rough 90 or so minutes.

Mission: Impossible – Only memorable today for that “lowered by wires” sequence.

The Nutty Professor – The movie that taught Eddie Murphy that putting on multiple fat suits equals bags full of money. For this reason alone, it should be put into a space capsule and fired directly into the sun.

Primal Fear – Ho hum, dumb little Richard Gere thriller. Oh, here comes Ed Norton, the most talented actor of his generation. Holy crap!

Sling Blade – mmm hmmm, sure do love them French fried per-tay-ters. This movie gave the world Billy Bob Thornton, as well as a bunch of people constantly saying that last sentence. You decide if that’s a good thing.

Swingers – The movie that taught douchebags how to behave! Actually, it’s aware of their character’s flaws, even if many of the film’s fans aren’t, so we won’t blame Jon Favreau and company. Notable for Vince Vaughan’s hilarious portrayal of fast-talking uber-dip Trent “Double Down” Walker, which made him an instant star and created the persona that he’ll never escape.

Tin Cup – The last gasp of Kevin Costner’s career was actually a lot of fun. This is one of the more under-rated sports movies in recent(ish) memory.

Trainspotting – This tale of the rapid disintegration of four junkies and their drunken homicidal cohort introduced us to Ewan MacGregor and director Danny Boyle (if you didn’t see their excellent tiny indie thriller Shallow Grave a year before, that is). It’s still a frenetic good time, until it morphs into a grim psycho-horror. Then a good time again. Then horror. Then . . .

Waiting for Guffman – Christopher Guest’s re-invigoration of the mockumentary is one of the funniest movies of the 90s. If Oscar were a little more friendly to comedies, I’d put it on the nomination list.

"No, he's not Bruce Willis. He's Peter Stomare. He's the IKEA Bruce
Willis, which means that he's Swedish and not 100% properly assembled."

And The Time-Delayed Oscars Go To:

Best Picture:

Real List: The English Patient, Fargo, Jerry Maguire, Secrets & Lies, Shine

Today’s List: The English Patient, Fargo, Jerry Maguire, Lone Star, Trainspotting

My Pick: Hamlet

The Winner: I’ve already detailed the reasons that I think The English Patient would no longer win the big prize. I honestly was expecting to de-nominate it (and I sort of liked it), but in reviewing 1996 I am faced with the fact that it was a really bad year for film. So, Patient is still on the short list, but the race for the TDO is between Fargo and Jerry Maguire. I’m fairly torn. Both of them are still well-loved modern classics that have been uploaded into the collective consciousness, but neither of them stands out to me as an obvious choice for a win. Maguire definitely has the edge when it comes to how much of the script has entered our vocabulary (though I’m not sure if that helps or hinders a perception of quality), while the Coen Brothers, outsiders of sorts in 1996, have become Oscar darlings in the last few years. I want to call it a tie, but a man’s got to take a stand eventually. I think that if the Academy gave out the 1996 do-over awards this year, you’d probably see Fargo take it – and immediately face popular opinion that Maguire was robbed.

Here’s an interesting thought that I haven’t encountered until now: The assumption of Time Delayed Oscars is that it allows a more objective view of a film’s historical significance and staying power, shorn of the hype/money machine that now permeates the Yearly Awards Cycle (which is itself now longer than the NHL season), and might act as a tonic to Oscar’s habit of awarding somebody for a lesser work because of their prodigious body of previously unawarded work (see Scorsese, Martin). However, it seems possible that a lesser movie may get a boost because of its film-maker’s prodigious collective body of work since then.

Turns out there is nothing that Tom Cruise could be yelling here
funnier than "I LOVE BLACK PEOPLE!!!"

Best Actor: I don’t think Geoffrey Rush would get the prize for a hammy performance in a dull movie (Shine) that is now generally recognized as such. Personally, I’d give this prize to Kenneth Branagh for Hamlet, but I know I’m the only person banging that gong. Tom Cruise has really damaged his career lately, but that’s really only taken him from “biggest star in the world who everybody loves” to “one of the ten biggest stars in the world who everybody thinks is weird”, which also describes Johnny Depp. Jerry Maguire is still beloved, and the whole thing falls apart without the cocky desperation that he invests in his title character (watch that shark’s grin start to glisten with flop sweat as unctuous Jay Mohr fires him). I don’t think there’s anybody else in 1996 that could have played that part, and Cruise does so to perfection. If not Cruise, then maybe Woody Harrelson in The People vs. Larry Flynt, but that movie is pretty much dust by now. I say Cruise.

Best Actress: The thing about Francis McDormand’s turn as Sheriff Marge Gunderson is that, while certainly iconic, it was a supporting role (strangely, William H. Macy, the closest thing that Fargo had to a lead role, was nominated in the supporting category). Meanwhile, Emily Watson’s performance in Breaking the Waves remains astonishing (do yourself a favor and check that movie out). I think she gets the golden boy in a fairly weak year. Even though the movie she appeared in is not broadly remembered from a popular standpoint, von Trier is still a relevant director today, and so one of his early and more universally well-regarded entries would still get consideration.

Which is the Best Picture of 1996? Go vote at FilmChaw!

Survive Donkey Island: My Island Diary 003

2011-02-25T19:54:00.000-08:00

I don't consider it a brag to say that Survivor Poker is succeeding beyond my wildest expectations. I say "beyond my wildest expectations" because I figured that it was about 50/50 that it would be a total bust with people confused and disinterested after game one, and then we'd all collectively do what we did after the Black Eyed Peas Superbowl halftime show: pretend it never happened so that we could carry on with our lives and still believe in the possibility of goodness.

I say it's not a brag because I don't really feel ownership. In the first place, I lifted the rules right off of the popular TV game show Jeopardy! (note: check this before posting), and in the second, this is our thing now. The germ of the idea sprouted from my rather large and bulbous head, but now it's out there mixing with your creative energies and becoming whatever it's going to become. I love it. Thank you, everybody who's playing Donkey Island, everybody who's playing the tournies alongside, to Al for swinging some swag our way, and to Buddy Dank and Jo for emceeing and coordinating.

To those of you reading who haven't played yet: Come out! We had 42 in the Mookie on Wednesday and signs are it may be growing. Plus, the stakes here are comically low, so if the serious business of BBT (which I happen to love) turns you off . . . well, believe, me, you won't catch any of us taking this thing seriously.

So get in on one of the most fun poker tournaments to be found in one of the world's best American casino, Canadian casino, or online cardroom (that'd be our good friend Full Tilt Poker).

And listen to Buddy Dank Radio!

OK, on to my totally true and not-at-all made up account of life on Donkey Island. When last we left our intrepid island dwellers, the badly injured Riggstad had just been killed and consumed by his team, The Fish.

The Donkey Island Diary of Julius_Goat

When Jamy Hawk gives you this look, you've probably been
busted paddling the camp canoe.

Day 5: Success has been the failure of our tribe. It's true: when we lost immunity, it brought us together. We all were of one accord: we needed to kill our resident Alpha Wolf, Numb R. Bono. But now, after immunity has been secured, tensions are growing, and cracks are beginning to show in the foundation of our previously equanimimous camaraderie.

Specifically, our architect Jamy Hawk is starting make both Uber Hipster Much Tim and recently-scalped college guy Jordan crazy with her adherence to what she calls "camp rules." These rules include (1) not letting the campfire go closer than 6 inches to our cook pot, (2) erasing with a stick all our footprints and sundry tracks within a 100 yard radius of the dwelling 'in case of baboon attack', and (3) not paddling the camp canoe without signing it out. Jamy may have tended to Jordan carefully in the first days after Numb scalped him, but now the same assiduity has made a rift there. He huddles with Much Tim, making snide comments under his breath as she schoolmarms them about the proper stacking of discarded cans of food.

And here comes paranoia, creeping up my ribs. I fear a Jordan/Much union could spell the end of me unless I can make a few friends around here. And I really doubt I can do that if I can't stop farting so much. And I won't do that, because if I give up my religion just to win, what have I become?

I thought that maybe Samuel would ally with me, but then I realized that Samuel was just a banana tree I'd been sitting under.

Hmm. Yep, I guess I'm crazy again!

Pictured: Mr All-Can Tang and just a few of his many many cookies.

Day 6: Challenge Day is here! Today is a sort of a "Swimming Out to the Raft, Light the Torch, Swim It Back With The Torch in Your Teeth, And Burn Something On Shore With It" kind of thing. It's a race.

The great thing is that one of the Fish, a large fellow with an amazing head of flowing golden hair, has brought treats! The treat-bringer's introduces himself as All-Can Tang, and he speaks in friendly tones with a thick Slavic accent. We all sort of like him immediately, and think what a shame it will be when we eventually have to kill him and eat him.

But never mind such unpleasant thoughts. Mr. Tang has brought us chocolate chip cookies! Wow, there must be like 400 of the things here! We chow down as friends before we race as enemies.

The race is going well. Heff Mike the hick (or "rural American", as I learn from Mike is the proper nomenclature) and I are doing great, at the finish line and well ahead of Mr. Tang (who happens to be the sole remaining Fish), when out of nowhere host Buddy Dank sets me on fire. I jump into the briny sea and Tang comes up to his kindling. Luckily, Heff is a born firebug and lights his pyre first. Victory is ours!

We're all pretty sure that the Fish are going to sacrifice this young girl who didn't even swim, but they rise up as one and attack Mr. Tang, and carry him off shrieking.

Huh. I guess they didn't like the cookies.

Images courtesy of Midday Escapades and Cheesy Supreme.

Take 5 - Week of 2/27

2011-02-25T18:47:00.000-08:00

You know the rough part about writing a weekly goof post on the biggest stories in poker for Full Tilt Poker? It's this: when it's sort of a slow week in poker and you can't think of any stories better than Breaking News From Poker Grump: David Benyamine picks a booger the size of a ferret. Luckily, good ol' Al Can't Hang came to the rescue with some choice topic suggestions, and also found a few of my embarrassing typos to boot. That dude has been carrying my water for ages. I should give him a chance to play my silly prop bet game. Or, you know, maybe something better.

And now I'm gonna pass the mic to Yaut!

_______________________

Yes, another week, another five serious poker items in this week’s news getting torn into silly little ribbons by the logic-shredder that is my brain. Anybody seeking a valid news source from my articles will be prosecuted. Anybody quoting them will be shot. Anybody trusting them is welcome to play me heads up.

5. Racener vs. Mizzi - So there’s been a bit of a kerfuffle starting over on the 2+2 forums regarding some alleged malfeasance. November Niner John Racener has accused BLUFF Magazine player of the year Sorel Mizzi of dealing off the bottom of the deck in Chinese poker. Later, Racener hit the boards to say that his accusation stands, but that he’s dealing with it and considers the matter closed. Now, obviously Racener is a Full Tilt pro, so you maybe be surprised to see this covered right here. Most online sites, they’d clamp down on this sort of thing, asking that there be no commentary made on their official blogs. But Tilt is a classy site, and forthright, and honest, and faces controversy head on, so I’m just going to come out and say the honest truth: I have no idea how to play Chinese poker.

4. WPT Celebrity Invitational 2011 – Though luminaries such as Lou “Diamond” Phillips, Don “Oscar Nominated” Cheadle, and the Fat “Rudy” Hobbit were in attendance, the star-studded final table included Dinara Khaziyeva, Damon Schramm, George Rechnitzer, Dan Heimiller, Davidi Kitai, and Almira Skripchenko. I don’t have a joke here.

3. Vinnie Vinh Wins the LAPC Event #29 – OK, this isn’t huge news except to say that we’re all very happy that Vinnie is still alive and able to finish tournaments without vanishing. One more disappearing act and I would figure him for Keyser Soze.

Read the rest at Poker From The Rail

Your Weekly Dose of Awesome

2011-02-24T09:04:00.000-08:00

The Goat Suggests 003: Freakangels

2011-02-23T06:48:00.000-08:00

These are the Freakangels.

KK makes things. Helicopters. Gadgets. Bad decisions.

Connor writes things down, trying to make sense of it all.

Karl is the farmer. He grows the only strawberries in the world.

Luke is a creep. He lives on the street. Pants are optional. His mind drifts.

Sirkka runs a house of sexual healing. And gratification. Give her a chance, and you might change your mind about her. If you don't, she might change your mind for you.

Kirk is the sentry. He wants peace, and he doesn't care who he has to kill to get it.

Arkady is the mystic. She's learning what the rest of them can do. She's missing a few cards in her deck, or perhaps they're missing her.

Caz is the engineer. She makes everything that KK doesn't make.

Jack is the scavenger, picking through the bones of a ruined world, bringing back what he can find on his boat.

Miki is the doctor and the conscience. She is usually deeply ambivalent about all of this.

Kait is the cop. She gets turned on by television's Quincy. And by the rules. And by enforcing them. And by fascism.

Mark is the outcast. Mark has decided to start controlling people, you see. He's getting better and better at it, and maybe he can't be stopped . . .

Freakangels.

They all have purple hair and eyes. They all have powers beyond the realm of human understanding. They were all born on the same day in the same place. They can be petty. They can be scary. They can be selfless. They can be kind. They can be monsters.

Six years ago, they destroyed the entire world.

This is what happens next.

And that, basically, is the premise of perhaps the greatest webcomic out there, written by Transmetropolitan's Warren Ellis and illustrated by the literally amazing Paul Duffield. Every Friday (with occasional exceptions), you'll get six new pages. This story is a masterpiece of character, art, plotting, layout, dialogue, you name it. I'm not going to tell you another thing about it, so there's just one thing left to do.

You really ought to read it.

Your Weekly Dose of Crazy

2011-02-22T03:00:00.000-08:00

Hello. Here's Shelley Duvall.

Hello. Here's Shelley Duvall.

Hello. Here's Shelley Duvall.

Survive Donkey Island: My Island Diary 002

2011-02-21T08:25:00.000-08:00

It's been a whirlwind time on the island. Before I get into all that stuff, though, I want to remind you that next Sunday's tournament is planned as a $5 multi-entry, not a $1 rebuy. Once again, word on the street is that we'll be seeing an extra $100 in the prize pool courtesy of Al Can't Hang and Full Tilt, so be sure to give Al a big slap on the back (watch out for the stab wounds) and a hearty "thanks, Fabio!" next time you see him. He also accepts SoCo.

Event 4 is the MookieDank on Wednesday!

Mookie/Dank
Full Tilt Poker
$10 + $1 NLHE
Wednesday, Feb. 23
10 PM EST
password: vegas1

Do it!

OK, no more ado. I'm out of ado. Here's the diary, picking up right after our ouster of self-proclaimed Alpha Wolf Numb Bono after Event 1. Again, we're one event behind right now, but I will try to catch it up before Wednesday.

The Donkey Island Diary of Julius_Goat

Can you believe we made this from scratch in one day?

Day 003: After last night's butchery and feast, we're all a little bit bloated and tired, but Jamy Hawk rightly doesn't let us laze the cool of the morning away. Given that our sole shelter is a flooded mudhole right now, this task needs to be addressed right away. Tropical storms can come up without warning here in the Pacific.

Jamy's up to the task. It appears that she may have a doctorate in architecture, or maybe she has over twenty-thousand hours logged on Minecraft or something. In any event, our new bamboo stilt house is a thing of beauty, with separate rooms for each of us, a working jacuzzi, and a KISS tribute band playing in the game room. Jamy's a interesting sort. She's sort of tight-lipped, but smart and no-nonsense. She's taken the recently scalped Jordan under her wing, and is trying to help him sew his Alpha-Wolf removed hair back on.

Also with us are:

Brain MC - An aspiring Olympic diver on scholarship from UCLA, in his off hours an underground rapper from the West Coast. Brain MC claims that he tries to "keep it on the positive tip." His lower teeth have been replaced, Kanye West-style by diamondelles. "Diamonds?" I ask. Brain MC shakes his head. "Nope. Diamondelles. They're like diamonds, but better. One, they're cheaper. Two, there's a lot more of them."

Kat Ittude - Our youngest member, Kat is totally mute and is therefore forced to communicates solely by means of interpretive dance. What's weird is that she's probably the most eloquent member of our tribe.

Mike Heff - (he goes by Heff Mike, which is apparently how they do it in West Virginia), a good old boy in overalls and wiry strength. He's an excellent cook. The BBQ sauce he marinated Numb Bono in was fantastic; he whipped it up entirely from island herbs and spices.

Tim Much - a hipster with spacers in his nose piercing and tats covering his entire neck and left arm, all of them bar codes of Chinese characters with ironic translations. Tim decides that he wants to go by "Much Tim" as an ironic commentary on Heff Mike's way of self-identifying. I'm laid back, so "Muchtim" it is.

We retire to our hammocks, listening to the sounds of the jungle at night.

Riggstad, shown here, is not dead yet, but if you wait around for a
minute, he'll be dead very soon.

Day 004: Here we are at the second challenge. Immediately it is evident that there is something amiss over at Team Fish. One of their players, a helicopter rental salesman named Riggstad, went out in the ocean the first hour of Day 1 and immediately stepped on a poisonous sea urchin. Then he got impaled by a passing swordfish. Then a seagull pooped in his open mouth. Then a hyena bit him (I know, a hyena in the water. It's crazy). He's had some bad luck is what I'm saying, and he hasn't even had a chance to compete in immunity competition.

There appears to be something of a kerfuffle between the members of Team Fish, with some claiming that Riggs, as a non-functioning member, needs to be euthanized, while others advocate just as vociferously for team unity and the short sightedness of eliminating a member who, if healthy, might prove strong. Indeed, it's true that the ailing Fish is a big strong guy, but right now a recovery doesn't seem likely. His skin is gray, his eyes are yellow, and he keeps muttering distractedly about the "Catalina Wine Mixer," whatever that means. He's coughing up blood until a middle aged Fish with a $400 haircut and a $70,000 watch named Joe C. Very hollers at him to stop. "Shut. That coughing. Down. Coughing is for closers only." The weakened Riggstad meekly complies.

In the end, all the bickering is counter-productive, as few of the Fish even begin work on their challenge, a puzzle of interlocking wooden blocks that form host Buddy Dank's face when assembled. Team Donkey cruises to easy victory, and Riggstad is hauled off by the majority who want him for dinner. Later that night, we learn that he was cut into chunks and made into a shepherd's pie.

That's good eating!

Images from Best Green Home Tips and Monty Python.

Take 5 - Week of 2/20

2011-02-19T19:35:00.000-08:00

Walt Disney always famously introduced us to the idea, “It’s a Small World After All”, but Walt never had to consider what his opponent’s four-bet range was on an uncoordinated flop, and something like Rush PLO would have melted his face off faster than the lost ark. Let’s face it, the small world is passé: It’s a big world of poker out there.

So what I want to do is this: Each week, I’d like to ruminate (which is legal in my state) on the world of poker, in my utter imitable style, by which I mean I’d like to take real poker things and occasionally make stuff up about them, for the purposes of laughs and mutual enjoyment. Hopefully, we’ll all learn something, or at least I’ll get paid*.

So if you don’t know what happened last week, and (more importantly) you still don’t want to know when you’re done, check out my dumb list.

5. Eastgate Returns. The entire world was stunned when 2008 WSOP Main Event winner Peter Eastgate was walking away from the poker world. Well, OK, not the WHOLE world, but the 2+2 forums started several separate threads, which turned into memes, which turned, like 96% of 2+2 threads, into Photoshopped collages of cookies that look like TJ Cloutier. Where was I? Oh yeah, his retirement ended last week. My guess is that he got drunk and accidentally misclick-blocked himself from his online accounts and was embarrassed to admit it. Or maybe he just remembered that he is really good at poker.

4. High Stakes Poker Shakeup. Word came down that the well-liked host of HSP has been shown the door in favor of professional funnyman and amateur poker player Norm MacDonald, who will be providing commentary over the next season’s action. I have no explanation for this, but my suggestions include:

• HSP producers are looking for somebody who will say “crack whore” at least five times an hour (Kaplan was stuck at a woeful 1.2 CWpH).

• This is all an elaborate set-up for an inevitably underwhelming “Welcome Back Kotter” campaign.

• AJ Benza’s elaborate revenge scheme, step 14 of 86.

*In the interest of full disclosure: I get 50 chicken nuggets for this, still warm.

Read the rest at Poker From the Rail

Survive Donkey Island: My Island Diary 001

2011-02-18T20:39:00.000-08:00

OK, before I launch into my diary, a few items of business:

1) Al Can't Hang and Full Tilt Poker have added $100 to the next four Sunday tournaments! This is just $100 straight-up into the prize pool, good for anybody who wants to play, whether Team Donkey, Team Fish, or regular poker-playing fool.

2) Based on feedback from some of you, the rebuy donkament structure was fun but went a little too late. I'm going to change up the structure of the Sunday Game in a variety of ways and we'll see which is more fun for more people. Perhaps it is the variety itself that will be fun.

Anyway, this week is a $1+$1 Rebuy like last week, but the rebuy period should be done after a 1/2 hr. instead of the full hour, which should help those of us with bedtimes.

Survive Donkey Island 003

Full Tilt Poker

$1 + $1 Rebuy

February 20, 2011

9:30 PM EST

password: survive

The following Sunday will not be a rebuy, but rather a $5 + $1 multi-entry tournament. I've gotta think that the multi-entry structure will make a last-longer . . . interesting.

We'll continue the on and off rebuy/multi for a few weeks and see how it goes. If you have suggestions, I am a reasonable Goat. Let me know.

Anyway, here's my island diary. I don't know if many of you know this, but we actually are on a faraway tropical island. This is just a little background behind-the-scenes of Donkey Island from an insider/contestant.

I was a little late getting this post up, so this entry will cover the first two days of play, including the first elimination, but it won't cover the elimination of Riggstad a couple days ago. We'll be on a bit of a lag for a while. Bear with me.

The Donkey Island Diary of Julius_Goat

Our shelter after the end of the day's work. The picture makes it
look nicer than it really was.

Day 001: We just landed via helicopter on the beach. Buddy "Probst" Dank greeted us with a cheesy grin and split us into our teams. I didn't get a very good look at the other team (Team Fish) before we were whisked down the beach to our team camps, but they seem like a motley crew; I reckon the Donkeys are in good shape. Almost immediately, I was accosted by a beefy guy with muttonchops who wanted to talk about our shelter and what he referred to as a 'secret alliance.' Since he was talking about this 'secret' at the top of his lungs in easy earshot of the rest of the team, I steered him toward the topic of the shelter.

Muttonchop's name is Numb Rutherford Bono, and he claims to be an "Alpha Wolf" (his words)and a "shelter building champion." A small lady wearing horn rimmed glasses named Jamy Hawk proposes a hut on stilts using the plentiful bamboo around us, but Bono insists that his way is the best way. I think we're all a little jet-lagged from the trip, so we let him do it his way. This proves a bad choice. Bono digs a large pit and covers it with banana leaves, proclaiming his creation "a mansion away from home." I am skeptical, and I'm not alone. Five of us, including Mrs. Hawk, Jordan, and a hillbilly with five teeth by the name of Heff decide he has to go the first chance we get.

Numb Rutherford Bono took charge from Day 1, but that
didn't help him come vote time.

Day 002: Here we are, the first immunity challenge. The drizzle that began as we walked to the challenge site has turned into a full-on downpour as Buddy explains the rules to us: We're supposed to beat each other over the head with coconuts until only one team is conscious. We are well ahead, 8-3, when suddenly Bono screams "HERE I COME TO SAVE THE DAY", Mighty Mouse style. He then tears open his shirt to reveal an actual Mighty Mouse costume underneath and proceeds to brain us mercilessly until we all collapse in a half-conscious daze. A young guy named Jordan with a full head of curly hair is particularly affected; he gets half scalped, leaving him with an unnatural premature baldness that I hope will grow back in time.

Having subdued his team, Bono looks at me with a friendly wink and says, "Don't worry, Goatboy. I've got a plan, here." I sure hope so, because the rest of us can't even stand, much less compete. Team Fish certainly seems nervous at the raw display of power they have seen, though somewhat encouraged by the turnabout in numbers.

"FREEEEEEEEEEEDOOOOMMM!! screams the muttonchopped Bono, charging across the beach at our adversaries. He brains two of them into a stupor, but in the process drops most of his coconuts. A nearby pack of baboons pick them up and set upon him, leaving him bloodied and weeping. He's quickly dispatched by the only remaining member of Team Fish, and elderly lady named Hoyazo.

When we come home, the rain has flooded out our "shelter", which now reveals itself as nothing but a quickly-dug mudhole. Bono sententiously tries to blame BrainMc, a tall kid with a UCLA diving scholarship, for "not putting the leaves over the hole right", but this holds about as much water as our erstwhile home. We sit in the rain and feel sorry for ourselves.

Later, at Tribal Council, we nurse our poor heads (Jordan is holding his hair in his hands like he just found his favorite dog dead in the street), but our course is clear. Numb R. Bono has to be gotten rid of. We cast our votes almost unanimously, and Bono is beheaded, spitted, and roasted for seven hours. He makes a decent breakfast; a little stringy, perhaps, but after the two days we've all had we can't really complain.

Hope we can win the next one without our most fierce and dangerous warrior.

Images via TravelPod and Slashgear.

Your Weekly Dose of Awesome

2011-02-17T03:00:00.000-08:00

Cross-posted at Coventry.

Listen up and I'll tell a story, about a blogger growing old . . .

So H-Double was posting the other day about Daniel Johnston . . .

Let me back up. H-Double was posting the other day. Can we all agree that this alone is worthy of a weekly dose of awesome? (H-Double is one of the original poker bloggers, and his blog went dark before I even got started, but I read him for years before I started writing here, and I'd have to say that his posts were a partial influence when I decided to do this little project in the first place. Anyway, if you never have, go check him out, including his archives -- he's one of the old school greats, and he walks among us again.)

But I was talking about Daniel Johnston, the disturbed young man/songwriting genius who has spent his life on the fringe of the music scene, inspiring some, pitied by others. He was the subject of the documentary The Devil and Daniel Johnston.

I'll be the first to admit that Johnston probably isn't going to hit everybody the same. Technically he can be amateurish, even childish. His voice is a sort of adenoidal quaver. But he has something about him, something true and utterly compelling

Here's my favorite Johnston tune, simultaneously one of the most uplifting and saddest, one of the simplest and most complex songs I know of.

Your Weekly Dose of Crazy

2011-02-15T03:00:00.000-08:00

So listen to this everybody. A very special report on a social problem that affects us all.

Survive Donkey Island: Some Ground Rules

2011-02-12T06:00:00.000-08:00

OK, as somebody who has watched about two and a half seasons of Survivor seven years ago, I feel that I am qualified to both mash it into some unholy mixture with poker and to give some silly advice about it.

1) Buddy Dank is in control. I set out the initial plan of purpose. Buddy will be making the adjustments and the final decisions both before and throughout the game, and he neither has sought out nor wants my opinion (which is only right, given that I am playing). He may switch things around on us. He may introduce a new rule or wrinkle to us. He may be able to secure prizes for various side-bet reward challenges. Like it or not, we are all in the Dank Position now. Oh, and speaking of potential rewards and wrinkles . . .

2) Non-contestants should play. I think it is entirely possible (given early talks I had last spring with Buddy when we first started hashing out the idea) that Buddy may find wrinkles that involve non-contestant particpation. I mean, he may not (again, I am not privy to these dealing now), but I'd recommend that you watch for it and listen to Buddy Dank Radio, even if you are not an official Donkey Island player.

3) Trust nobody. Everybody at some point or another is going to want you out of the game, except for you. So when you are making your little plans, remember: you might not be seeing the whole plan. Also, in a corollary to Mike McD's axiom "if you can't spot the fish in the first half hour, you are the fish", if you are going into the event wondering, "who's going to get the boot?", well . . .

4) Trust somebody. You can't play the whole time paranoid or you are going to out-think your own stupid self. Figure out where your interests intersect with the best interests of somebody else. There will be trust there, until there isn't.

5) Don't take votes personally. Every season I watched of Survivor ends the same way. The one smart person and the one useless tag-along sit by the fire while a bunch of self-righteous and angry people tell the smart person what a bad person they are for being smart. Look here: Everybody is trying to be the last person standing. That means that eventually they are going to have to vote you out while not telling you about it. Treat it like the poker tournament, where everybody is trying to bust you and nobody is going to tell you their hole cards until it is time to show.

If somebody votes you out, that doesn't make them a bad person.

6) If you vote me out, you are a bad person. I think this is self-explanatory, right?

Survive Donkey Island 001

Event 1
Full Tilt Poker
$1 + $1 Rebuy
February 13, 2011
9:30 PM EST
password: survive

Event 2
Mookie/Dank
Full Tilt Poker
$10 + $1 NLHE
Wednesdays
10 PM EST
password: vegas1

See you at the tables on Sunday.

Be excellent to each other.

Best of Formspring 002

2011-02-11T18:57:00.000-08:00

Once again, actual questions from actual readers. Ask me one here.

how much room does one need to swing a cat?

That's not really how you should think of it. The real question is, how can we swing more cats with the room we currently have? It's time to find sustainable methods of cat swinging. Schrödinger, for example, can swing 1-0 cats inside a box. May we all follow that example.

It also depends on the length of the tail. I've seen some cats you could only swing inside of Yankee Stadium.

What is the ugliest color in the world?

The ugliest color in the world is a designer color in the David Lynch line of Home Depot interior latex paints. It is called Bloody Stool, and it costs $67.99 a gallon.

There is no known cure to this color. When you stare into this color, this color also stares into you. This color has a smiling mouth full of teeth where its eyes should be.

It is a pretty ugly color, is what I am saying.

Will you be willing to have product placement in your blog?

I Pledge® that I will make it my Target® never have any kind of product placement in my blog, Verizon presents The_Coke_Speaks .

The truth is I am a total shill. Make your offer.

will the cavs win another game this season?

It's not about whether you win or lose. It's how you play the game. Unfortunately, they play the game terribly, just terribly. I think they should focus on just getting the lead for a little while first. You have to walk before you run.

do your eyebrows meet?

They met once. They didn't get along. I'd rather not open old wounds, so I'll leave it at that.

why are you such a dummy you big dummy you?

I stubbed my smart.

what's the donkey tournament ID at pokerstars?

214671640. And it's Full Tilt! Go play!

what is this world coming to?

It's coming to the five and dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean.

Gosh, that's really hard to say, Biff. (You don't mind if I call you Biff, do you Biff?) I reckon the earth is ready for a change. I hear tell it is thinking about kicking this oxygen addiction sometime soon, maybe even in the next 700,000,000 years or so, and switching to an atmosphere of pure molten helium. You know, for the tourism money.

who by fire?

Oh, I dunno. Probably Bob Sagat. Nearly Richard Pryor. Certainly not Leonard Cohen. He by accident, I says.

what can your country do for me?

Don't ask that.

Orange Julius or Julius Caesar?

Orange. Far less stabbing.

have you ever broken the siegfried oath?

No, but I folded it up once, origami style. I turned it into a paper tiger. The tiger then attacked Roy.

It's hard to be Siegfried, yo.

How did your arrest in the 90's for shaving a cactus influence your perception of the yoghurt industry?

Adversely. For one thing, the "h" in yoghurt? Comes right out when the Brits and Canucks aren't looking. Totally two-faced industry, my man. Second of all . . . well, let's just say it's not ALL yoghurt.

Asparagus?

With steak? Yes? For breakfast? No. As a weapon of choice? No. As a marital aide? Maybe. But no.

have you no decency?

I know I have some here somewhere. I just need to look for it. It's probably under my self-respect.

Do the worm on Acropolis Slamdance the Cosmopolis? Enlighteen the populace?

You want to Clash with me? Preposterous / You know they ain't no toppin' this / Lyrically no stoppin' it / My rhymes they be poppin' off / The top of this esophagus / With speed that'll be shockin' ya / While all my words be mockin' ya

SNOW.

SNYES.

wanna go south ta hunt some skunk?

Well, you know, you betcha, as the Americans, those true Americans with their hard workin' and their gettin' in there and doin' the hard work and then with the questioning that liberal media Nazi filter, time to kill a moose.

Egyptian protesters have been enduring a 90% unemployment rate, which may explain their anger. If you ran Disney, is there any reason you wouldn't open up Disney Egypt and build a roller-coaster on the pyramids and solve the unemployment problem at the sa

It appears that the Egyptian government (or perhaps the Department of Homeland Security) shut this guy down mid-question. Always be aware, The Man is watching you.

Having said that . . . what do you mean, "if" I ran Disney?

Building Disney Egypt is a fine idea, but a bit of a financial gamble. As a staunch American Conservative, I stick only with common sense propositions. Common sense and a careful review of modern history tells us all that only one thing will help solve Egypt's problems. That solution happens to be the solution to all problems of civil unrest, economic difficulty, agriculture, energy policy, human rights, dental hygiene, spotty water glasses, and most levels of Angry Birds.

Here's the solution to all of Egypt's woes: massive tax cuts for the wealthiest 0.1% of the population. It can't possibly fail! If it does, we just go to Plan B, which is massive tax cuts for the wealthiest 0.1% of the population. If that fails, come find me for Plan C.

do you play the stock make? in what key?

Hey, buddy. I'll tell the silly jokes around here. Also, I'll make the typos.

I play the stock make all the time. How else do you make stocks? The stocks I make in my stock-make are sturdy and strong, and will hold any rapscallions or scalliwags or loose women for the full day of their punishment until they've been thoroughly shamed in the market square.

Some times, the whole day will fly by as I play with my stock make. I'll play it until it starts to seem like work. The day that happens, I'm done forever, and will focus on my other love: Smurf hunting.

if you launched a new fragrance. what are the possible names you'd consider?

This is a very important question, and timely as Tyra Banks has just invited me to develop a line of body odors for her. There are a couple of directions I am currently considering.

For example, I may just go with the simple, elegant name: "Goat Spray". That's high-class. We'd sell it in a cardboard box like fine blended wine.

On the other hand, the more puckish side of me would rather name my body odor "May I Have A Receipt?". This would result in people in department stores and malls across the country going to the counter and saying things like, "I'd like the seven-gallon bottle of May I Have A Receipt?" or "Can I try a sample of May I Have A Receipt?" This will lead to delightful "Who's On First?" style misunderstandings.

Now, pardon me. Tyra just texted me. Something about "STOP calling my fragrances 'body odor'!" Ha! Classic Tyra. She so crazy.

if a tree falls in the forest on a deaf and dumb guy, does it make a sound? does the guy make a sound?

Yes, he'd make a sound. A squishy sound. But nobody would hear it except his best friend, the mime.

how much can you bench press?

All of it.

what's the difference between a billy goat and an andrew goat?

The Billy:Andrew Differential was discovered first in 1967 by Giles G. Boy, and can be expressed as A = G[x(y-B) / q(y-b)], with A representing the Andrew coefficient, G representing the total number of goats in the field, x representing an egg-beaters farmer's omlete, y representing You, B representing the Billy coefficient, and q representing a random number that you select via cootie-catcher.

If you do the math, do you know what you get?

No, really, I'm asking.

Do you know any jokes about skunks?

I know millions of jokes about skunks. But that's not cool. You know what's cool?

BILLIONS of jokes about skunks.

who"s your favorite pharaoh?

I feel about pharaohs the way I feel about my children: I love them all the same.

How much do you love dodgeball?

About 1/10th as much as I love pharaohs.

what makes you tick?

Actually, I tock. Tried ticking; ticking didn't take.

So, what makes me tock? Love. Also, an irrational fear of poodles.

what's the vaguest you've ever been?

Oh, you know, this and that.