Monday, April 30, 2007
Alright, I'm back bitches. After spending the last 5 days with Mrs. Disco caring for my youngest daughter after her appendix surgery, The Disco is reopened.
We have several new blends of Colombian Happy Powder for your consumption as well as a gaggle of nubile, young Brazilian women that don't speak a lick of English. Have at it.
On a related topic, the forces of Evil have suffered a telling blow today. In the ongoing war of common sense versus censorship, the forces of common sense have brought down one of Satan's lapdogs.
Jack Valenti died recently at age 85. His tan was 90.
For those of you who are blissfully unaware, Mr. Valenti, or, as I like to call him, "Satan's Cocksucker", was (per Wikipedia);
"Jack Joseph Valenti (September 5, 1921 – April 26, 2007) was an influential American lobbyist and a long-time president of the Motion Picture Association of America. During his 38-year tenure in the MPAA, he created the MPAA film rating system, and he was generally regarded as one of the most influential pro-copyright lobbyists in the world."
Here is what I dug up from my, um, "research":
Jack Valenti made a pact with Lucifer in 1966 to become the president of the MPAA in exchange for his higher brain functions. From that point on, the MPAA took it upon itself the duty of stifling creativity, proclaiming itself the watchdog of decency and propriety in the film industry and society in general.
It was also discovered that on every full moon, Jack Valenti would consume a newborn baby and five kittens to keep the dried up husk he called a body functioning. Upon discovering this, spies for the forces of good switched the baby he was to consume with a My Buddy doll and five Furby's.
In a characteristic disregard for common sense, Valenti's body continued to function for a full week before finally succumbing to the idea that he was, indeed, dead.
In all seriousness folks, the MPAA is an antiquated and irrelevant institution that is kept alive only by the support of the major film companies that comprise it. It's mask of concern for the psychological safety of our society only masks its contempt for the intelligence of those it supposedly protects.
Notable critics and filmmakers have called for the creation of a better, more defined rating system that wouldn't doom a film to poor box office because of an NC-17 or similar rating. The MPAA has a stranglehold on the film making community with its enigmatic ratings board members, strident refusal to disclose the exact reasons for a rating, and kangaroo court appeal process.
The day the MPAA is dismantled is the day when film makers will truly be free to see their dreams made reality.
Friday, April 27, 2007
The Disco will be out of commission for a few more days. I've been home with my youngest daughter while she recuperates from having her appendix out. I'll be catching up on work emails, voice mails and the usual office BS. Here is some recommended reading for those that missed out on the grand opening of The Disco...
How MySpace Destroys Lives
Tyler Perry must be stopped
How MySpace Destroys Lives
Tyler Perry must be stopped
Friday, April 20, 2007
Recently, a tape of a voicemail actor Alec Baldwin left for his daughter Ireland was released to the public. The voicemail goes as follows:
From The Evil Beet
“You have insulted me for the last time,” he says. “You don’t have the brains or the decency as a human being — I don’t give a damn that you’re 12 years old or 11 years old or that you’re a child or that your mother [Kim Basinger] is thoughtless pain in the ass … You have humiliated me for the last time … You’ve made me feel like shit, and you’ve made me feel like a fool … and this crap you pull on me with this goddamn phone situation … I’m gonna straighten your ass out. I’m gonna really make sure you get it. So you better be ready to meet with me … I’m gonna let you know just how I feel about what a rude little pig you are. You are a rude, thoughtless little pig.”
Some facts about me:
1. I have physical custody of my two daughters.
2. They see their mother every other weekend and alternating holidays.
Now, I don't do celebrity gossip at the disco, and I don't plan on ever doing it. But I heard this message on a morning radio show and it disgusted me. I would like to address this from the standpoint of a parent.
I know how difficult it can be to keep a civil relationship with the other parent. There are parts of you that feel outrage, betrayal, contempt, even outright hatred for the other person.
But you know what? Be a goddamned grown up.
Your kids look up to you, whether you know it or not or want to admit it or not. Using that kind of language, in that tone, is inexcusable. You're teaching them that it's OK to be abusive, vile, and unstable. There are times when I want to lash out at (my daughters') mom. Hell, 99% of the time, I want to put a brick through her face for what she's put them through. But I don't. You wanna know why? Because that would set a bad example for my kids. As corny and PBS special as that sounds, it's true. And any parent that doesn't believe that their actions influence their kids should get a visit from Social Services. Not to put too fine a point on it, you always have to keep that screen in place between your brain and your mouth to keep the hurtful, mean, damaging stuff from slipping out.
There are a lot of tough decisions you have to make as a parent: punishment, admonishing, new clothes versus new toys, television versus communication, etc. However, what is not a tough decision is "Do I want to fuck up my kids?". The answer to that should be a resounding "No". If not, you can turn in your parent status and send your kids to live with a pack of hyenas, because they're less likely to make such a bad decision. If not, then at least your kids life will be mercifully short. It's preferable to continuing the kind of existence predicated on abuse.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Big Fat Buddha, I'm scared of this chick. Women scare me in general, but it only heightens that fear when they have shoulders broader than mine and a jaw like Ivan Drago. I think I could take her in a fair fight, but I wouldn't wanna run into after an all nighter in a dark alley. Luckily for me I always carry a silver bullet and pepper spray. By what cinematic trickery are they going to try to convince us that this she-beast isn't the unholy spawn of Pumpkinhead and The Bride of Chucky?
I truly believe that those aren't panties, but some kind of penis restraining device some prop guy developed.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Screenwriting hero Lawrence Kasdan has been tapped to pen "Clash of the Titans" for Warner Bros Pictures. Travis Beacham (Killing on Carnival Row) wrote a draft.
A remake of the 1981 cult classic, the story revolves around Zeus' son, Perseus, and his journey to save Princess Andromeda during which he must complete various tasks set out by Zeus, including capturing Pegasus and slaying Medusa. The original marked the final film on which Ray Harryhausen did special effects.
For Kasdan, "Titans" is his first fantasy-style project since the early 1980s, when he wrote the screenplays for "Return of the Jedi," "The Empire Strikes Back" and "Raiders of the Lost Ark."
Oh for the love of Baby Jesus wrapped in his swaddling clothes, please don't do this. YOu haven't done anything resembling "good" since the freakin' 80's man! I'm all for new and pretty CGI, but come ON! This will forever live in my childhood memories as one of the greatest adventure movies of all time. I still Netflix this whenever I get the hankerin' for that feeling of boyish wonder that you can only get from watching the classic films of your past. And now someone is going to take this, ball it up, piss on it, set it on fire, film it, and ask movie goers to pay to see it.
Fuck you, Kasdan.
I can just see you giving this the Hollywood "reimagining" label they give to any film that they know damn well they are about to hack to pieces 'til the only thing resembling the movie you fell in love with are the names of the characters.
But if they kill off that damned clockwork owl, I might be ok with it. It still gives me nightmares.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm be curled up in the fetal position in the corner, weeping.
By Laura Sessions Stepp
Washington Post Staff Writer
Saturday, April 14, 2007; Page A02
"A long-awaited national study has concluded that abstinence-only sex education, a cornerstone of the Bush administration's social agenda, does not keep teenagers from having sex. Neither does it increase or decrease the likelihood that if they do have sex, they will use a condom".
In related studies, it has been found that depriving yourself of oxygen, water, and food will kill you.
Teaching abstinence is like asking Uwe Boll to tone down the suck in his movies. Even if he takes your advice, you've still got a whole lotta suck on your hands. This type of right wing short mindedness is what you would expect from a band aid administration. Abstinence is unequivocally the wrong solution to teen pregnancy. Take it from someone who was a teen when he became a dad. I wish I had one tenth the education on sex and pregnancy that is out there now. I can tell you that if I had gotten stuck in a class preaching (and no, I don't mean teaching. This is a Christian agenda if ever there was one) abstinence, all I would have learned is which chick in class I wanted to bone. There is no real "solution" to this because liking sex is not a disease or some kind of psychological aberration. Teaching our youth how to protect themselves from disease, and unwanted pregnancy is going to be the only way to stem the tide of underage parents.
Those that refuse to accept the fact that teenagers are going to have sex, and lots of it, are naive and just plain foolish. You can't ask a boiling pot of hormones and half formed neural pathways to abstain from dipping their wick's because "God wants you to". Short of lobotomizing every kid once they hit puberty, education about sex and pregnancy, not the omission of it, is the only ammunition we/they have. Our media deifies celebrities with "sex-tapes". Our politicians go on book tours after getting BJ's from interns. Even priests get a pass for fondling little boys.
The point is that our society has become so focused on sex and sexuality that asking kids to flat out ignore sex IS the 600lb Gorilla in the room. Teach them about sex. Educate them on how to use a condom, and why. Show them what life is like as a teen parent, but do NOT criminalize sex itself. That's what the Catholic Church is for, afterall.
But I do not recommend having sex with a 600lb Gorilla, because it would probably rip off both your arms and sodomize you with them. Simultaneously.
Let's discuss. (Abstinence I mean, not sex with a Gorilla....pervs)
Barry Nelson, an MGM contract player during the 1940s who later had a prolific theater career and was the first actor to play James Bond on screen, has died. He was 89.
Thank you Mr. Nelson for bringing to life one of film's most beloved and revered characters. Your legacy lives on.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Re: Article from Ain't It Cool News
"MGM has partnered with Salma Hayek to form Ventanazul (Blue Window), a production shingle that will develop, produce, and acquire feature projects within (roughly) a $5 million to $25 million range."
My dear Salma,
I would like to be the first to congratulate you on your recent success in partnering with MGM. It demonstrates a level of foresight and confidence on the part of the studios that I normally would not give them credit for.
For as long as I can remember I have been a fan of your body. Of work. Every time I have viewed one of your films, I feel like I am penetrating deep into your soul. Now that you are riding atop your own production company, I am comforted by the thought that you will be thrusting your visions into the public. I hope to see many of your projects splash across the silver screen and that you can serve as a positive Latin American figure in today's entertainment industry for many years to come.
On a more personal note, I want to do things to you that would be illegal in 48 states and most of central Europe. I mean, if you can partner with MGM why not MMM? Those would be my initials by the way. I'm sure that you would more benefits in partnering with me than you would a large studio:
1. I'm more than willing to commit to producing several "amateur" features with you. These can be strategically "leaked" to various media outlets to coincide with your higher profile releases.
2. I can guarantee that our "amateur" film releases would be seen by all of my MySpace "friends" who would then share them with their "friends", creating a widespread Internet "buzz" prior to a film release. Thus saving several million dollars on conventional advertising.
3. I have no issues with doing a three way with you and Penelope Cruz. I'm just sayin'.
In closing, I would just like to reiterate that your continued success and unflagging dedication to quality cinema is an inspiration to us all. You can count on my ongoing support of any of your future projects.
Please have sex with me.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Appalled by today's role models, Teri O'Toole makes religiously themed toys that "set an example"
By GWENDOLYN DRISCOLL
The Orange County Register
Get yours today! Available while supplies last! Order now!
You don't wanna be the only one without your Jesus plush doll when your savior comes a-callin'! You can't prove your faith without it! Is he God made flesh or the Son of God? Who cares when you can defeat all the forces of COBRA with just one Jesus doll!
Your Jesus doll comes complete with the following:
Kung Fu grip for beating the crap out of non-believers!
Inflatable sandals to keep his feet dry for those long walks ON the water!
Saintly aura! (Batteries not included)
Red dye for turning water into wine! (kids, ask your parents permission before turning water into wine)
Hidden compartments for storing extra fish and loaves of bread!
Stylin' Mary Magdalen
Super Spy Judas
I'll keep this short because I'm about to blow my geek wad all over the place.
Plot Summary: An experiment in genetic engineering turns harmless sheep into blood-thirsty killers that terrorize a sprawling New Zealand farm.
I don't care what any of you say. I will be first in line when this movie comes out, holding my debit card with the biggest geek grin on my face. This film just has, if you'll pardon the line, "...a touch o' destiny..." about it. I'm all over anything B movie-ish, so this shouldn't surprise anyone that knows me. Any film that would use a line from Porky's as a tag line for it's advertising is OK in my book.
So forget Halloween, forget Poltergeist, and fuck Texas Chainsaw Massacre. This movie will go down in the history books as the greatest horror film (about sheep) of all time. For those of you with the foresight and intelligence to see this for the cinematic opus that it is, here is the link to find out more:
Now get the flock outta here! (See what I did there? I used "flock" instead of "fuck" cuz' "flock" refers to a flock of sheep but it sounds like "fuck".)
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
I think there comes a time in your social development where you take a look at yourself and take stock of the person you've become. Are you the person you thought you would be at this point in your life? Have you achieved the goals you had set for yourself earlier in life?
There is one question, I believe, which a lot of us tend to forget to ask (or won't ask). That question is: "Are these the friends I thought I would have?" And the infinitely harder to ask and even harder to answer:
"Are these the kind of friends that I SHOULD have?"
When do you cut the ties to friends that are no longer the people you befriended? They may not have done anything to you directly, but you they no longer possess those qualities that engendered your friendship all those years ago. You still communicate with them on a semi-regular basis. Holidays, birthdays, a friends party. But they're just not that person you once knew.
Worse yet is when these friends bring their particular kind of drama into your life. Whether purposefully by calling to spill their soul to you, or inadvertently by drawing you into it simply by being in proximity to you. At what point do you cut the emotional ties? When is it disloyalty, and when is it simply preserving your own sanity?
This weekend I, along with my two daughters and my girlfriend Kristine attended the usual Easter egg hunt at the home of a friend of hers. At some point in the party I surveyed the people in attendance, and asked myself "What are we doing here?". I realized that this was definitely not our crowd. I looked at my girlfriend, Kristine, who looked beautiful as always: heels, a nice dress, jacket, makeup, hair well put together. Then I looked at her friends: sweat pants, house shoes, no makeup, track jacket, hair like baksets full of snake skin. I'm not judging anyone based solely on their choice of clothing (there is a laundry list of reasons why ties with several of the individuals should be violently severed) but at what point do you say "Hey, I look like a Wal Mart barfed on me, again, excuse me while I go change before my guests arrive." It might seem cold and callous to be able to easily cast aside friends, but maybe that's just part of my own dysfunction. I tend to be a bit more pragmatic than most people and it can sometimes come off that way. But, if you have someone in your life that does nothing but bring chaos and drama into your life, what choice do you have, really?
We're both at a point in our lives where we want more out of life, but are still tethered to some who never evolved beyond their Senior year of High School.
Friday, April 6, 2007
Let me first warn you that this isn't going to be the usual laugh so hard you'll smack your momma posts. It aint always hookers and blow at The Disco.
The past few weeks have been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster for me. My girlfriend recently found out that her friends' mother has cancer and the outlook is decidedly negative. On top of that, the mother in law of another friend also passed away due to cancer. We also thought that she (my girlfriend) may in fact be pregnant (which turned out negative by the way). The death of any human being would be cause for sadness (with the exception of some), but these deaths served to dig up some painful memories.
My mother Irma died from cancer several years ago. She was a dynamic woman who, though not perfect and with her share of skeletons, rose from the ashes of her past to provide a better life for my brother and myself. She did not reveal to us, her family, that she had cancer until she had progressed further along in the stages of cancer. She fought it as long as she could but I think there came a point where she realized that she could not win and could only do her best to make her departure as painless as possible for everyone involved. I cannot describe to you how difficult it is to watch someone who used to be so strong and fearless forget where they were going, or ask you to take them to a chinese restaraunt only to realize that she couldn't remember where it was, to sit up for hours at night moaning in pain with you powerless to do anything about any of it. During her last moments I lay in what would be her deathbed next to her, holding her hand as her breathing machine was turned off and watched her take her last breaths. As most would tell you about me, I'm one to rarely let it be known when I am upset or angry. All that gets tucked down into a ball deep down inside me. But not at this moment. Watching the life leave the person I loved most in this world after my own daughters was too much. I screamed. I cried. I broke down into the kind of body wracking sobs that only a son losing his mother could know. I sobbed until there were no more tears and my throat had gone dry. The woman that had molded me into the man I was and the father I am today was being taken from me
I felt alone. For all of the "We're here for you" and "Call me if you need anything" I felt alone. No one could reach inside me and fill that void that was left. But what was I to do? I had two daughters to care for, a house to maintain and a job to worry about. I didn't have time to mourn. So there I went, pushing those feelings down into that little ball that wasn't so little anymore. I was happy Manny again. Never a frown on this face, no sir. So I soldiered on, not really facing those feelings of loss, anger, of halving several worlds on my shoulders.
Needless to say, this was a lot to come flooding back, so my disposition has been somewhat lacking in the sunny department. For what it's worth I've offered myself as a source of comfort or at least a reference for how to deal with some of the issues that arise from dealing with a loved one that has cancer.
That's all for now. Maybe I'll pick up this thread again later, maybe not. It just felt like time to put some of this away.
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
Grieving couple commits suicide after dog dies
HYDERABAD, India (Reuters) - Unable to come to terms with the death of their pet dog, an elderly couple in southern India committed suicide by hanging themselves, police said on Monday*
Damn. Look people, I love my dog Thor too. The sunuvabitch has got to be cutest thing this side of, well, me. And yes, I'm a total pet parent. I have purchased at least three articles of doggie clothing for him. And a bumblbee Halloween costume. The day he passes, I'm sure that will be a very sad day. I'm sure everyone in my household will shed a tear.
But suicide? Ummmmmm, not so much. I may get a little choked up for a couple of days, but you know what? I'll probably be down at the local pet shop looking for a new Shih-Tzu. That's what. Or getting to know any of the other pups we would have studded (?) him out for in previous years.
*The photo is of my Shih Tzu, not the suicide inducing one in the news article.
Cricket world cup continues alongside murder investigation.
I thought Cricket was something made up when you wanted to infer someones gayness.
Like, "He's so gay he plays Cricket" or "Those chicks are hot, I wish they'd do a Cricket scene."
You mean to tell me Cricket is a real sport? I call shenanigans on that. I mean, come on. Look at at that guy leaping in the pic. I think he's just trying out for some kind of extreme ballet performance or something. The helmeted guy in the background is probably just the coach getting ready to hit anyone that doesn't nail their landing.
Oh, and I guess some "coach" was killed, too. By coach I think they mean the guy with the biggest tutu.