Results tagged ‘ Film ’
When something like this happens:
It’s funny to think that maybe this was happening behind the scenes:
But most likely it’s closer to this:
I predict that within six months Perry’s secret male lover will no longer be able to hold his tongue. Let’s just call it a hunch.
Why does everyone get so excited about the whole playoff beard
phenomenon? This is nothing new. It happens every year with lots of
different teams. Isn’t it time for a different trend?
Oh, wait. You meant hair on faces. Ok, sorry about that. Wrong beard. Although the point still stands.
But, you’re right. Playoff beards, whether of the A-Rod variety or the hairy face version, are not exactly news. It happens in baseball. It happens in hockey. Football definitely sees it share. I guess I’d like to see baseball players try something a little different. I have two suggestions.
The first thing I’d like to see in baseball is the midsummer slump beard instead of the playoff beard. Imagine that your team has looked terrible for the first half season and the All-Star Break is coming up. In order to give yourself some momentum heading in to the layoff, you all grow beards. Not only does this show team spirit, it also shows some balls. Think about. The Houston Astros with full on beards in the middle of July? That’s hardcore. The itchiness and beard sweat alone would be enough to drive you crazy. Add in some sort of pact about not being allowed to shave until you’ve won two or three series and you might find just the motivation you need.
The other possibility would be taking the playoff beard to higher level. I don’t want to see three days worth of stubble. I want a full-on, Osama Bin Laden “I’ve been living in a cave for five years” kind of beard. Cliff Lee is imposing on the mound. Just imagine him sporting some Gandalf-style whiskers and hitters losing the ball in his beard as it leaves his hand. Now that’s an intimidation factor.
Playoff beards have become a cliche but it doesn’t have to be this way. There’s still time to reinvent the beard. Hey, if A-Rod can do it with Madonna, we can do it with this tradition.
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As soon as I heard about the Mel Gibson stuff I automatically thought of
John Rocker. Thoughts?
I think, “How is it possible that Mel Gibson still has a career and Tom Cruise is considered the crazy one?” I mean, I get it. Jumping on couches on national TV, praying to aliens, dumping Nicole Kidman for Katie Holmes. That’s all pretty crazy. Even if I personally think Katie is a step up over Nicole. But punching out your girlfriend’s teeth, telling her you hope she gets gang raped, dropping the n-bomb like it’s going out of style? Dude, that is all kinds of crazy.
The comparison to Rocker makes sense to a limited extent because both men are racist pigs. But there’s a very important difference between the two men and their body of work. Rocker is straight up ignorant. For better or for worse, he has no idea what he’s saying. Think of him as a real life version of Kenny Powers. Gibson subscribes to a more insidious style. He slings around slurs with a practiced abandon. I’m not saying that ignorance is an excuse but it is something I can understand. Gibson is a vile person who actively represents the lowest common denominator. Think of him as an Australian version of Joerg Haider.
And there’s another important distinction between the two. Rocker launches verbal tirades but that’s where it ends. Gibson likes to use his fists and, if the reports end up being true, also likes using them on women half his size. Maybe it’s different down under but my parents didn’t raise me that way. In fact, I’m pretty sure that if my mom ever heard about me hitting a woman, she’d take the next flight to whatever town I’m living in at the time and beat the living snot out of me. You just don’t do that.
Rocker’s racism, while still dangerous, comes across as kind of cartoonish. But Gibson’s record of racist rants intimates a more fundamental level of psychosis that apparently manifests itself violently. It’s viral and I find it hard to forgive and also much more scary. I guess my point is this, Mark. On the surface the two men seem to have
quite a bit in common. But when you dig into it a little bit, the
comparison falls apart. If I had to make a choice, I’d much rather be dealing with Rocker than Gibson.
As a baseball fan, I also enjoy fictitious treatments of the subject. Although I somehow never saw The Natural until a couple years ago, I still got a lump in my throat when Roy Hobbs hammered the ball into the lights at the end. Kevin Costner may have gotten lost way out in left field when he made The Postman but Field of Dreams and Bull Durham almost make up for it.
The only real problem is that I can’t really identify with those guys. Sure, Field of Dreams is set in the heartland, not so far from where I grew up. But the chances of me ever owning a farm are pretty slim and there’s quite a bit of difference between that big house and my little apartment.
I guess that if I had to choose one character from a baseball story with whom I most identify, it would be someone a little more vulgar, someone who’s on the edge and sometimes goes over. There’s only one character I can think of who fits this description: Kenny Powers.
So, you can imagine how excited I was to see this:
The first season of Eastbound and Down was beyond hilarious and rumor has it that the second season will find Kenny making his way through the Mexican baseball leagues. The possibilities for wildly inappropriate racial and spicy food based humor are simply staggering. Remember, this is the guy who says, “Sure, I’ve been called a xenophobe, but the truth is I’m not. I honestly
just feel that America is the best country and all the other countries
aren’t as good. That used to be called ‘patriotism’.”
September can’t get here soon enough.
The only real reason to celebrate Groundhog Day is because it means we’re into February and baseball will start back up soon. Seriously, what is this point of this “holiday?” I don’t get a day off of work. There’s no food involved. And no matter what happens, you’re still firmly entrenched in the middle of winter. That doesn’t sound like such a good deal to me. In fact, one might even be inclined to suspect a bit of conspiracy.
No, I mean it when I say that without the hint of baseball it entails and the vehicle it provided for Bill Murray’s formidable talent, Groundhog Day would be dead to me. Just like you, Curtis Granderson. Yeah, you know what I’m talking about. You’re just lucky I don’t have your name on a Tigers’ jersey or I’d really be pissed.
What do you get when you cross an evil, faceless corporation with the soulless smile of a clown?
It may be cute. It may be funny. But to paraphrase close personal friend of RSBS, Keyser Söze, “The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he was a funny clown commercial.”
The baseball season may be over but the wheeling and dealing is just beginning. Trades, pickups, moves. It’s like Christmas came a month early. However, one man seems to be doing a little more wheeling and dealing than everyone else. Well, maybe more of the wheeling after hitting up someone else responsible for the dealing.
Now, let’s see a show of hands for those of you who are surprised that Tim Lincecum likes to hit the reefer from time to time. Ok, Utah, you can put your hands down. Mormons don’t count in this poll. But as for the rest of the country, of course we all knew he liked to smoke. The dude looks like a smoker. He’s practically a dead ringer for Wylie Wiggins and he just has that look in his eyes.
Here’s the thing, though. Isn’t this just yet more proof that marijuana might not be as bad for you as DARE led you to believe? How many people do you know who are at the top of their game and like to relax with their close friend, Steve Green, from time to time? Half the NBA are regular smokers, Lincecum obviously likes it and how else do you think Steve Jobs came up with the iPod?
Take another look at that article. The thing I notice about the story is that Lincecum pulled over and “immediately complied with a request to hand over the drug and a marijuana pipe.” Compare that with a drunk who refuses to put down his beer and winds up taking a swing at the officer. I’ll take the pot head any day…..especially when he has a 2.90 ERA over 3 seasons.
Sometimes when I get really worked up, you probably forget that I am not just a simple, hateful man. There are many things I appreciate. This is not true about Notre Dame since there is absolutely nothing redeeming about that school and I consider Rudy to be nothing more than Catholic propaganda. But, despite a dogmatic insistence on my hatred of the Yankees, let us consider them for a second.
Growing up in a small town outside of Kalamazoo, MI, I admired Derek Jeter. This wasn’t true of my whole family. My brothers routinely referred to him as “Fila-boy” because for some reason he had an endorsement deal with that shoe company and always wore them. I think their dislike of him has something to do with the leftover animosity those of us who come from German descent have for the Italians totally screwing the pooch in WWII. Seriously guys, you couldn’t even hold on to North Africa? But, even though he was the golden boy and could seem to do no wrong and even though my brothers hated him, I always had a special place in my heart for Jeter.
I don’t know, maybe it’s just me but he always seemed to hustle a little more than the other guys, to work a little harder to prove that he belonged there. Even though he was a Yankee, he didn’t have that same air of entitlement that guys like A-Rod seemed to possess. And maybe that’s just me projecting but when you’re coming from the same area in the middle of nowhere in Michigan, it’s nice to see someone who made it out.
So, I still stand by my guns and there is no way I will ever cheer for the Yankees (unless one of those guns happens to be pressed up against the side of my head). But Derek Jeter? The guy’s a class act. Kalamazoo Central class of 1992, in fact. See, I’m not all bad.
I don’t want to alarm anybody or prey on your fears but you should all know that god is dead and the devil has won. “But Allen,” you’re probably asking right now, “How is this possible?” Well, it’s really quite simple. Let me refer you to the classic documentary in which Doctors Venkman and Spengler expertly deal with all manner of paranormal aberrations. Now, as anyone who has seen the film well knows, the only way to avoid the end of the world is to make sure that the “Keymaster” and the “Gatekeeper” do not get together. If they do, well, it’s over.
So, you can only imagine how my heart sank the other day when I read that the Keymaster and Gatekeeper are on a collision course and their unholy union will be consummated on 20 November 2010. Seriously, we are knowingly allowing the Yankees and Notre Dame to combine their evil powers together? I don’t want to go to far over the edge here but you should know that it will form the most pure nexus of evil ever known in the history of the planet.
At least by then we may have bigger worries. That’s right folks, at that point we may have insurance coverage for each and every American. And as bad as Zuul may have been, there’s nothing worse than universal health care. Don’t believe me? Just watch this public service announcement from the always civic minded Stephen Colbert:
|The Colbert Report||Mon – Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c|
|Health Care Hell-Scare – Die-agnosis: Mur-DR|
Happy Saturday y’all!
Although I hate to be the bucket of cold water on the porn ‘stache discussion that has been heating up our personal interweb for the past day, it felt necessary that I write a small tribute to the most recent passing amongst our ongoing rash of celebrity deaths. In fact, you could say that there might not even be a Red State Blue State without the contributions of this person because many of the decisions he made led directly to the epic divide that has come to define our country.
I consider it fair to say that the Vietnam conflict was a watershed event in US history and the domestic response to it created a fault line that still divides the red from the blue states. Each presidential election since that time has been a refighting of the battle and even much of the argument about Iraq recycled the same terminology used in discussions of Vietnam. And no one was more instrumental in creating those discussions, arguing those arguments and fighting those battles than Robert McNamara.
There’s no reason to go all that in depth because if you really want to get an idea of the man, there’s no better place to go than Errol Morris’ 2003 documentary, The Fog of War, where you can hear McNamara describe what happened in his own words. Nearing ninety at that point, McNamara’s lucidity and razor-sharp reasoning are almost stupefying. Love him or hate him, you have to admit that he ain’t no dummy.
So, despite the ambivalent feelings Mr. McNamara may inspire and despite his troubled legacy, we still salute him. He is at least as responsible for RSBS as Al Gore is for the internet.