As I was eating dinner with some of my friends in the Non-theist Society, it became apparent to me that I am now incapable of interacting with other people because I have not read the Harry Potter books.

“What did you do with your childhood then?” asked Jen.

“That came out in what, ‘99?”

“I think it was ‘98,” she corrects.

“I was a senior in high school.”

In addition to feeling (and likely being) old and incapable of relating to these people in any shape, way, or form, it’s made worse when they reveal that have never seen Star Trek II: the Wrath of Khan.

Who is supposed to teach kids that revenge is a dish best served cold?

Hi.  About a month ago, I read about a 66-year old woman who was on a Continental flight to Hawaii.  She was resting comfortably, enjoying the in-flight movie (i’m sure it was Marley & Me), until 28-year old Jerome Kingzio decided to get up and piss all over her.  Let’s not mince words, he hosed her down.  Police say he had been drinking.   Awesome.

Following the golden shower, the woman said that her entire vacation was ruined.  The FBI (yes, the FBI) said they would investigate.   Jerome was charged with assault and given jail time.

Why would the FBI need to investigate?  If this is FBI jurisdiction, then i’m SCREWED.  I’d like to dedicate this next space to apologize to the following people, and ask that you don’t press charges:

-to the house on my paper route that I threw my poop at, when they didn’t give me a christmas tip

-to my wife and dog, for peeing on my bedroom floor at 4am after my birthday(during one hell of a dream, apparently), while they awoke and watched in bewilderment and amazement

-to the old movie theater in the mall, for secretly urinating in a cup during a theater viewing of Hellraiser 4: Bloodline, and also for doing the same at the Plaza during Jeanne Claude Van Damme’s The Quest.  I then left the cup(s) on the floor.  Shame.

Allow me to tell you what REALLY happened here:  The woman was obviously in the aisle seat.  Jerome probably asked her three times to get up so he could walk back to the bathroom and cram into that bathroom crawlspace that couples seem to like getting away with fucking in.  However, since the woman ignored him and kept her headphones on with her large blanket cover, Jerome decided that he wouldn’t let this opportunity go to waste to show her just how poor her decision-making skills were.  As the piss splashed against her face, it probably took her back to the early years, when she often peed on other men to pay for college.

She went to her hotel room and showered (of course), then called all her friends laughing, saying “oh my god, you’ll never believe what happened LOL, i got peed on by some drunk guy!!”    Then she spent the next few days drinking Tequila and enjoying the rest of the time she had on the beaches, while Jerome met a spiked dildo named Bubba.

What really scares me:  I read a news blog that feces and urine might be the next step in terrorism, due to the lack of weapons they can smuggle on board.  So……urine is effective in combat, ultimately.  Really?  REALLY?  Gandhi could have just shit in a jar every day and surrounded the British Embassy with them, instead of doing all the unnecessary hunger strikes.   Now THAT’S civil disobedience….

I wish the media would really think things out before saying things like this to the public, because now Homeland Security will get us to buy more duct tape for the piss-flu outbreak that apparently is ready to cross our shores….because we are dumb.

Hello.  My name is Joe and I love martial arts. When I was asked to write reviews of kung fu movies I was excited. I immediately found myself in an unnecessary flashback to the death of my master… no wait… wrong flashback.  I was taken back to Friday nights after karate class with my friends, watching the best and the worst kung fu movies we could find.  Kung fu Fridays became a staple.  Great times were had with guest stars and recurring characters.  Debates raged: like could Jackie Chan take on Jet Li?  And why the @#$% are they showing Jean Claude’s butt again?!?  I still find myself quoting the great ones.  They were great times and now I get to share them with you!  Welcome to my haven.  Welcome to my Kung Futopia!

In the interest of fitting the theme of the ridiculous, I chose for my first review the original and most ridiculous of kung fu Friday movies.  Fist of Fear, Touch of Death.  This “film” is, in my opinion, the pinnacle of ridiculousness.  Used in the military for the purposes of extracting information from prisoners of war, this movie represents 90 painful minutes of my life that I will never get back. 

Having seen it before, I knew what I was getting into, and yet, suppressing the rising nausea in my gut, I pressed play.  Hearing the fateful ovation of trumpets, I felt a shudder of terror run down my spine.  I am not a squeamish man.  I have seen my share of terrible things in this world and I have come through and yet, facing this task before me, to sit through this travesty once again, to once again gaze into the abyss, I tell you honestly and without shame, I was afraid.  I steeled my resolve. I had to complete my task.  I do this for you, the reader, so you won’t have to.

The film represents the ultimate in Bruceploitation (films following the formula Bruce Lee + anything = $$), the premise for which is a documentary, featuring Adolph Caesar, investigating the world martial arts championships and who will be the successor to Bruce Lee’s non-existent title of king of kung fu.  It opens with Adolph Caesar interviewing Aaron “Mr. Karate” Banks telling of how he thinks Bruce Lee was killed by the touch of death or “vibrating palm” a technique in which you “touch a particular part of the body to reverse or change the normal bodily functions” resulting in death in 3-4 weeks.  Seriously, this is what he says.  I couldn’t make this up in that I am a reasonable and sensible human being.  Thus setting the tone for the remaining 87 minutes of terror.

Flash ahead to after the opening credits and we see scenes from the tournament itself.  We hear Caesar commentating, in an Al Michaels play-by-play fashion, to what is obviously stock footage of a self-defense skit, as if it was a heavyweight title fight.  “And suddenly Bill Louie lunges for his opponents eyes… ripping them from the sockets and in a great display of showmanship he tosses them to the crowd.” 

Jump cut to a series of “interviews” with Bruce Lee.  Dubbed over stock footage of Bruce.

Jump cut back to another “match from the past.”  Again we see stock footage of a self defense skit in which a young woman (Bad a$$ Bunny Lee) is fighting a large man (The Flying Fatman) complete with exaggerated “boing” sound effects.

At this point in the film senses begin to reel.  Questions enter the mind regarding your state of existence.  How could a world possibly exist in which this piece of crap made it onto DVD?  But this is only the beginning.

Adolph Caesar notices celebrity Fred Williamson signing autographs.  We are now taken on a flashback to Williamson’s difficulty getting to the tournament.  Mistaken for Harry Belafonte, he received his wake up call two hours late.  As he gets up, his scantily clad lady friend asks him to “make it a six pack” before he leaves.  At this point he says the only sensible dialogue that I have been able to glean from the film.  “Who ever heard of fighting for Bruce Lee’s title that doesn’t even exist.  It’s kind of absurd, isn’t it?”  Once he does make it out of the hotel he encounters Jasper Milktoast, played by the writer (unbelievably there is actually a writer) who causes him to lose his cab.  Fortunately, Fred catches a ride with our very own Adolph Caesar, followed by (no exaggeration, no joke) a full three minute “drive to work” montage complete with bass driven soundtrack!

Side note: At this point I looked at the timer thinking “how much more can I take?” only to discover that I was only 15 minutes in!  My hypothesis is that the film is so bad that it causes fluctuations in space-time, hence the ability to fit an inordinate amount of awful into a 90 minute film.

The film continues with a dizzying series of jump cuts, flash backs, and stock footage following a non-existent storyline until we get to the half time show.  Caesar treats us to his rendition of Bruce Lee’s history in the martial arts stating that he was “the first to spot Bruce Lee’s talent” (I actually had to go back to hear it again). 

Caesar tells of Lee’s great grandfather, the greatest Chinese samurai of the 19^th century (apparently the only one, given that samurai are Japanese, but let’s not get lost in the details) and how he influenced Bruce Lee’s career complete with scenes from a cheesy 70’s samurai movie. 

Jump to a dubbed over Asian drama attempting to depict Bruce Lee’s family life.  They talk about how Bruce is “Karate crazy” and actually flash back within this flash back to another old samurai movie!  That’s right, a flashback²!  At this point my tenuous grasp on reality began to slip away.  Thoughtful dialogue like the following:

Bruce Lee’s Dad regarding Bruce’s karate: We must talk.  We must clear the air.

Mom: Well it’s about time.  Now I’ll be able to sleep at night.

Dad: I hope so.  Then you won’t be such a royal pain in the a$$.  Right?

 was the only thing that kept me going.  It can best be described as a series of non-sensical 70s kung fu movie clips strung together at random to tell a made up story about Bruce Lee’s home life culminating in Bruce’s great grandfather being attacked by a man wielding an abacus! This went on for 30 more minutes!  Any Bruce Lee fan is at this point is likely enraged to the point of violence.  Just keep in mind, what I have written is just the tip of the iceberg.  There is so much more that I don’t have time or desire to put here. 

The movie ends in much the same way it began.  A ridiculous blur of jump cuts and flash backs accounting the end of the tournament and the final match with two competitors never mentioned anytime previously in the film. 

A farewell from Adolph Caesar and the trial is complete.  My advice, never see this movie for any reason.  EVER!  This is possibly the worst movie ever made.  Personally, I feel less secure knowing that human hands are capable of creating anything this terrible.  It currently stands atop my “Worst of the Worst” list.  If you do feel compelled to test you mettle, to see if you are capable of surviving, do not do it alone.  Bring a friend if for no other reason than no one will believe you when you tell them how bad it truly is. 

Well, I hope you enjoyed your visit to my kung-fu-topia and I hope it helps you to avoid the disaster that is this movie.  Feel free to leave your own comments and any suggestions for future kung fu reviews. 

Hello, I’m Ryan Coons, and I walk among the damned.

I’ve been in college for the better part of ten years, with no end in sight. I’ve stayed up all night with the artists in the small state schools, partied with the hedonists in the Public Ivys, and watched the corn grow at the Big Ten.

I’ve been a pizza delivery man, adjunct professor, autoworker, bartender, tutor, casino barback, experimental physicist, and karate instructor. Currently, I find myself as a Ph.D. student at Purdue University, studying nuclear engineering. I work in a million dollar laser laboratory trying to invent new light sources for lithography processes, the end result of which will make your computer faster by a factor of ten.

In my leisure, I read philosophy treatises and Marvel comics, study Japanese swordsmanship, and work on two major writing projects. One is a critical look at religion and the role it plays in American society, and the other can only be described as a post-modernist re-imagining of “Babes in Toyland.”

But this isn’t about me, it’s about our friends, the damned.

The damned are not those who are not awesome, I cannot say that enough. The damned are those who consciously choose not to be awesome. Allow me to show you:

Not awesome:  SUV’s.

Awesome:  Barbie Power Wheels.  No, seriously.

Not Awesome:  Bibleman.

Awesome:  Old-school Spider-Man.

It’s absurd to want to go through life being anything other than absurd. The status quo exists only to allow the mediocre not to feel bad out of the charitable notions of an outdated morality. Only those who are awesome, those who defy conventional wisdom, those who make waves, who disrupt the status quo are memorable. Only they contribute and advance out society. It’s called the Peter Principle people! It’s not rocket science! It’s not even a real science — its social science!

But I, in my bodhisattva compassion, devote my differential amounts of leisure time to you, the reader, in an attempt to help you know what awesome is so you can live while you’re alive. I would know, I was like you, but I stopped. I’m not drudging my way through life, I’m having a good time — no, strike that — I’m having a super-fun-adventure time, and there’s plenty of room on my Super Fun Adventure Bus for each and every one of you. It’s only a matter of hitching a ride.

I’m not saying that Star Trek : Deep Space 9 is the best Trek of all time, but I’m willing to put it at #2. I think everyone is in agreement that The Next Generation represents the pinnacle of Trek, and Enterprise represents the dregs. I don’t care to debate TOS, as I do not find it interesting in the least.

That leaves two series to vi for the spot of Second Best Trek of All Time. In this corner, wearing the blue shorts is Start Trek : Deep Space 9. In the opposite corner sporting red shorts is Star Trek : Voyager.

I would posit that DS9 is the closest to that Star Trek has come to being ‘real’ and being source of significant Socio-Political commentary. DS9 was the first Trek series to really explore multi-episode, multi-season storylines, and develop characters as flawed, realistic people. Voyager on the other hand, is just a poor-man’s TNG, where everything is black and white, the bad guys are always ugly, and all endings are of the good guys leaving unequivocally triumphant.

Benjamin Sisko is a far deeper character than Kathryn Janeway. The Bajorans hail Sisko as the Emissary of the Prophets, an exalted religious status that he rejects in the beginning and only grudgingly tolerates even at the serie’s close. He is forced to make tough choices where there is no moral high ground, and is not necessarily sure if the decision was the best one. Janeway’s only interesting character trait is that she goes crazy over the course of the series, she doesn’t accept that she must make difficult decisions, she loses her mind instead. And then we have what is now termed Janeway Syndrome:

Nobody likes a know-it-all. Not only is it annoying, but even today, it’s impossible for someone to be an expert in any more than a couple of fields. This cliche is named in honour of Captain Janeway, a scientific genius so immense that she seemed to know more about every field of 24th century science than the most brilliant of her senior staff. Where did she find time to study all of these things in between her officer training classes? Well, she didn’t, because it’s COMPLETELY RIDICULOUS![1]

Let us move on to the characters. DS9 created many new original characters, wheras Voyager’s crew was primarily a retread of past archetypes. In the sense of being an outsider trying to understand the human condition, 7 of 9 is simply Data with breasts, as is The Doctor ( the Data part, not the breasts part ). The logical side of Data has been turned into a one dimensional character by Tuvok. Tom Paris is the most watered down bad-boy that Trek has ever seen. Chakotay is a faux-Native American whose one piece of heritage is an electronic device used to cause hallutionations ( far more spritiual and tv-friendly than payoti ). Kes is merely another Troi, and Neelix is the Jar-Jar Binx of Trekdom.

Deep Space 9 has a cast of characters that, while not always the peak of originality, are at least somewhat complex. Kira Nerys and Jadzia Dax are by far the most bad-ass female Trek has ever seen. One was a freedom fighter, watching commrads die left and right. The other was perfectly at home drinking Blood-Wine with Klingons and going on quests of revenge. I will admit that Odo was yet another character used as a sounding board for exploring the human condition, but at least he was a bit different and tightly woven into many story-arcs. Miles O’Brien, while imported from TNG, was turned into a fully dimensional character, both likeable and flawed at once, and involved in perhaps the only realistic portrayal of racisism throughout the Trek universe. Speaking of imports, Worf, need I say more? And though I admit that Quark and Rom perhaps started off with a overly strong flavor of comic relief, by the end of the series they were also multi-dimensional characters with traits both flawed and honerable. Garek is a fantastically written character who is mysterious and engaging to the very end. For example:

Garak: Why is it no-one ever believes me, even when I’m telling the truth?
Julian: Have you ever heard the story of the boy who cried wolf?
Garak: No!
Julian:”It’s a children’s story. A young shepard gets loney while tending his flock. He cries ‘Wolf!’ and the townspeople come rushing to his aid. When they discover there is no wolf, he claims he scared the wolf off, and they congratulate him for his bravery.
Garak: What a clever boy!
Julian: There’s more. The boy did the same thing the next day, and the day after, and the day after. And on the next day, when a wolf really did come, the townspeople didn’t come. They’d gotten tired of his lying. The wolf ate all the sheep and the little boy.
Garak: Isn’t that a bit gruesome for a children’s story?
Julian:”The moral is that if you lie all the time, people won’t believe you even if you’re telling the truth.
Garak: Are you sure that’s the moral?
Julian: Of course. What else could it be?
Garak: Never tell the same lie twice.

Another issues I have with Voyager is the insane use of technology. This group of misfits have seemed to advance technology at a faster rate than the rest of the galaxy combined. Practically every episode has the crew inventing some new technology to overcome whatever obstacle is before them. Deep Space 9 takes place on an abandoned Cardassian ore-processing station converted for use by the Federation. Everything is old and broken, and nothing ever works quite right for very long. In contrast, Voyager, an advanced ship with untested technology, lost in space, attacked at every turn without the benefit of a ship-yard for repairs is seems to be in good-as-new condition at the beginning of every episode. Even worse is that somehow, over the course of the series Voyager is magically able to fire many more torpedoes than it started out with. Paralleling that is the fact that the ship is able to lose runabout after runabout without every exhausting its supply.

In the end, while Voyager has very little to say, Deep Space 9 tells us that not all is a perfect utopia in the Federation, that there isn’t always a right choice and a wrong choice, that not every problem can be solved in 45 minutes. I will leave you with this:

Quark: I want you to try something. It’s an Earth drink. Root beer.
Garak: I couldn’t…
Quark: Go on.
Garak: It’s vile!
Quark: It’s so happy and bubbly and cloy.
Garak: Just like the Federation.
Quark: You know what’s worse? If you drink enough of it, you start to like it.
Garak: It’s insidious.
Quark: Just like the Federation.