6-Day Work Weaks: Too Busy to Too Stupid or Too Proud

Maybe it was the sinus headache. Maybe it was the feeling that I just had to get my 13-hour day over with. Maybe it was driving in a loop to get to the first job thanks to the Illinois Marathon. Maybe it was the frustration building upon each day that I am in a holding pattern until I done putting the time in to beef up my resume. Whatever the reason, I want to get this day over with and my patience may not be there.

My manager at the retailer let me out 30 minutes early because of how slow the day was. I know the hotel would be sold out the previous night, but slow days elsewhere tend to represent slow days everywhere. Then there are parents to cheap to drive to Bloomington for Chuck E. Cheese.

Screw "Main Event of the Dead" (ask for a treatment of my zombie/pro-wrestling, no budget comedy by emailing russthebus07@gmail.com). I should ask for a loan to open a "Dave & Busters" in the CU. Jupiter's Pizza's main delicacy is not worthy of an arcade. Just give me half of the Toys R Us. You can have the other entrance for you seasonal Halloween store.

I guess you have families who are traveling great distances to celebrate the name day of a wee one. Why brave the road back home? Treat yourself by knowing you will not have to clean up a mess. Let your kids roam around and publicly not pay enough attention to them.

The youngsters should know it is never going to get better than tag around an ornamental fireplace. Who needs animatronics and skee-ball? They are never going to see Disney World anyway.

You can blame my OCD, but I do not want to remembered as a slob. When it comes to kids, I am no parent, but they would be my top priority, my primary job. Why would you want to look lousy at your job? If that is not a call for socialism, I do not know what is.

I bust my ass six days a week to earn less that $11.00 an hour while parents drop the responsibility on me of making sure there kids do not get injured on top of that. And I take pride in my work for that. Parents who leave their children asking me for solutions to why they cannot play video games in a business center or on their tablet seem to lack the pride. If they are making more than me, it is justified that I feel pissed. Customer service professionals are not people you should be inconsiderate to.

Like the douche who got lucky after I failed to realize a larger room was available. He asked for it and if we offered CDL discounts, which I replied with I do not believe so. Having to try and make me feel bad, he said "That's cool, but some in your chain do...most of them do." If you did not tell me you were getting a room to party in, maybe I'd knock $10 off.

Divine punishment I suppose for failing to realize that I could have moved a third-party reservation to a bigger room despite that party needs to learn the pitfalls of not booking directly with us. Sadly, they are so far the better guests, and I shouldn't come up with petty reasons to deny them better things. Failing to read your reservations details should not be the end-all be-all.

I would like to state that reading is the first part of societal empathy. If you are illiterate, that's society fault. But if you skip reading something, that is on you. It is on you unless you are trying to make sure that lawyers actually have a valid purpose. Someone has to read the terms, might as well be them.

If only I could electrify the floor to make customers avoid exit lanes at check out. You are not special, and again, you do not look good when the line starts to form. But, the employer is not putting up an "exit" sign to have them read. This may lead them to think they are not breaking any rules despite there are "enter" signs.

People seem to get more ignorant on the weekend. I do not mind answering questions, but when an expert answered it first, do not expect me to recant their response. If you tell me you bought something four months ago and did not plan to use it until after the three-month manufacturer warranty expired, it is not our responsibility to correct your ill conceived plan, not ours. Buy the warranty in December. You are still paying way less than MSRP.

Being slobbish on the weekends. Failing to take the time to think before you act on a Saturday. I think you may be abusing your finer wage and reasonable schedule. We need to correct this. So lets make you appreciate your downtime.

WE SHOULD ALL WORK SIX DAYS A WEEK UNTIL 40.

The only detriment to this that I see is an economic hit from not having that extra day to be stupid. I say that we are still all pretty weak when it comes to impulse buys, so the chance of this happening is slim. Why are you going to buy the latest video game when you do not have time to play it? Because I am a completionist and optimist.

But, you are not going to ask those stupid questions with less time. When are you going to come up with your bullshit reasons why a bad purchase is not my fault? For the sub $11 per hour, you will know our struggle so you will not be a twat about it.

The sub $11 may be encouraged to show you more respect. We will aspire to find new ways to make everything even easier on you and all you have to do is make it easier on us. Who does not admire the on call doctor who is damn near guaranteed a 60-week? We admire them but not the clerk who is forced to read scripts.

People we admire get unearned perks, that has always been the way. I am just a man wanting to admire everyone. Here's to finding a city where I can do that.

Schrodinger's Cat: Rationalizations of an Existentialist (Part 3: Delayed Feline Arrival)

I suppose I should be happy that I named this blog (or originally named this blog "If I'm the Cat") at the end of the previous installment. Too bad I failed to remember that. Rationalization number seven could be "I Cannot Win"...even better the "Evangelion" stylized version [I Can (Not) Win], but I'd like to believe that my lack of opportunities is because no one wants to step up and be the loser. Explains the local wrestling scene, but what about team efforts?

Rationalization 7: I Am a Shitty Teammate.*

We can go back to high school wrestling and manipulative (and in turn, stupid) Mortonites, but let's keep it current. I've made some decisions that have left me in less than ideal situations, but I've always come through for others. It can be argued that I didn't come through for my parents for the sheer amount of stress I've caused them. But [and the "Game of Thrones" fans can make their claims for my lack of parental respect or make their hypocrite accusations for using the "Stark But Formula (so tempted to add an extra T to the middle word)"] I feel that all my failures are my failures.

They came through for me when I needed help, and have yet to not do so. And so far, I've have yet to fail at being there for them. If they feel I have, they assumed I wouldn't be able to help them. Don't challenge me because I will find a way to meet the challenge. Fight is all I know I have.

The only way that it can be said my failures reflect on my parents is that I am not the adult they wanted me to grow up to be. Can anyone be what there folks want them to be? Actually, that might be true, at least in terms of my family, but that can open up a whole bag of Tim Burton-sized worms that I should avoid.

*So, I've yet to nail down "Rationalization 7." Technically, it's the titles that I keep missing.

Still, are we ever going to get to the cat? At this point, the furball may end up being the conclusion to this series. In principle, I think I should just announce that there will be a part four because of my hatred for everything needing to be a trilogy. It hinders story telling and ruins the adaptation of single literary works. The use of the term literary instead of Literary is because I don't want to consider "The Deathly Hallows" to be as important as wussy LARP fans thinks it is. Wizards aren't for those who do not want to throw down. For fucksake, Gandalf and the mages from 8-bit "Final Fantasy" waved swords around. Fuck your dependency on Mana.

I could start a blog entry about how "Harry Potter is a rip off of Highlander" or "Rationalizations from Fictional Decapitations," but let us get back on track...despite it is Harlem Avenue at rush hour. But to make one thing clear, Tolkien deserves a big fucking "Literary."

Rationalization 8: Hope Is a Lie.

A lot (probably all) people consider me to be a pessimist. I think I am an optimist. I am a Cubs fan, so I have to be. Until the current ownership, Cubs fans were at least receiving positive reinforcement. That was the only positive reinforcement chaos provided me. And we wonder why I'm depressed.

As I said, chaos has provided me. There are people who have given me support. Sadly, it's nothing more than pep talks. "Things are bound to get better," "how can things get any worse," "I don't have it so good." You cannot really argue the third one...until they tell you "you just have to think positive" or list how many relationships or luxuries turned negative that you wish you would have had...for experience sake of course.

I live with a cat, I'm not raising a child or growing plants for my cat to destroy. "Ghostbusters 2" bull shit isn't going to help me. OSF psychiatric program should have just stamped "doomed" on me instead of sugar coating my existence by having me read "The Missing Piece" by Shel Silverstein. How can you just believe things will change for the better when you can't control anything, and your not getting a chance to.

Rationalization 7: I Am a Shitty Investment.

Sorry for this "Choose Your Own Adventure" moment. I should have just developed a bookmark/link system to navigate this blog entry, but I can't be giving away all my web-designing skills for free. If you cannot support "Main Event of the Dead" (a treatment of the pro-wrestling, no budget, zombie comedy can be requested through russthebus07@gmail.com) at least support the profession that was suppose to be the original Pro Wrestling Back Up Plan.

Okay, I shouldn't be writing with bullet points. They limit the creativity as earlier stated. It just seemed to make more sense to preach why I need support before I go into how I cannot receive it.

Not receiving help has seemed to cost me $80 and two best friends. The $80, giving Zoosk another chance. With 20 attempts to communicate and 11 failed scientific matches, perhaps I'm just undesirable, so hence, not worth the time. My twit friend, whom I am following, didn't return the favor. I suppose that shouldn't matter except they "wanted to be friends." And my long time friend, she got back to me, but...I think that demonstrates I do not have much value.

So it's no surprise that I can't get anyone behind my film production. Especially if you add my past failures. My bankruptcy may indicate I'm a bad risk. My lack of a wrestling career goes back to "Rationalization 4: Only Good Promotion Brings Meaning." Still, these are my failures. Aside from those who paid for the bankruptcy (and a $2500 that others ditched on me), my screw ups are mine.

I'm looking to organize a potential failure that we can all be proud of. This is no different than starting a pick up team. We may not win, but we should have fun.

But when no one has ever believed in you as an adult (except for Danny Daniels...can the guy get a Wiki), no one will put my ability in being a stand-up, trustworthy person for my friends.

Rationalization 9: Belief Determines Worth. So people follow Christ because he's rich like the Kardashians.

At least I'm improving on my knocks against the Messiah of many. Building on that will at least give me something to look forward to when I write "Schrodinger's Cat 4."

Slumdog Millionaire, or how I got started writing reviews for ICC

Slumdog Millionaire

Since his first international success with 1996’s Trainspotting, director Danny Boyle has been working diligently to deliver a film that would make him more than a once hip British filmmaker. The Oscars’ Best Picture nominee, "Slumdog Millionaire", is not only a brilliant film, but definite proof that he is among the most influential directors of his generation if not this century.

"Slumdog Millionaire" is Simon Beaufoy’s adaptation of Vikas Swarup’s novel "Q & A" which was inspired by a true story about an uneducated, young man from the Mumbai slums and his unlikely success on India’s translation of the now iconic game show "Who Wants to be a Millionaire". For Boyle, it is one of the few times he has worked on a film not written with the involvement of Alex Garland or John Hodge, but the theme that some things are “Written” is a plot that is common in most of his films. This film might be the most acceptable offering of this message Boyle had directed.

Accused of cheating after the first show ends, Jamal Malik (Dev Patel) is held by the police and forced to endure aggressive interrogation to either confess to cheating or explain how he could possibly answer questions that not even the top professor in India can answer. As the overly truthful Jamal tells how every answer to each question was earned through the life experience he and his brother Salim (Madhur Mittal) gained from trying to survive the slums of India since their childhood, in an effort to fulfill his destiny to be with his childhood’s best friend Latika (Frieda Pinto).

The film definitely belongs to Danny Boyle, but the other elements cannot be ignored. The acting is strong, especially from the children who portray the young Jamal and Salim. Its story encompasses so many heart-wrenching moments, the viewers accept Jamal as their own while maintaining a comedic balance to allow the viewer to relate with Jamal. Because of this balance, it might be considered appropriate for any mature child.

It is also easy to appreciate since it is based in one of the most westernized Central Asian countries. Despite a good deal of it is in Hindi, the foul taste of subtitles is lost. It may be a foreign experience, but at no time does it feel like a foreign film. This may explain the lackluster premiere in Mumbai despite the fact that Boyle made his best effort to recognize India’s love for and the influence of Bollywood.

Danny Boyle’s contribution to this grand equation is his ability to find a way to capture everything that he wants a scene to show. His pans from the Jamal to the supporters never abandon the character we must maintain our focus on despite the hero may not even be in the shot and his ever improving use of montages show why there are always great expectations whenever he offers the world a new film. These montages have been mastered to the point that he seems to have an absolute control over time, something rarely seen in motion pictures and perhaps never at this level.

To give it the final touch of a Boyle film, the eastern electronic score of A.R. Rahman and soundtrack (comprised mostly by the songs of M.I.A.) give it the grand audio experience that is expected of any of his films. It is not for those who enjoy the more classical style of John Williams and James Horner, but it does not necessarily take away from the film.

Slumdog Millionaire is the defining work of director Danny Boyle. The fans of Boyle will appreciate this film for showing how brilliant he is as a director, and Oscar should drive the cautious film goer to see this work of near perfection.

www.imdb.com

Diary of the Dead: Romero's Latest Relevant Zombie Flick

George A Romero has established the need for a gimmick when it comes to zombie flicks, but it is hard to say that he had done a unique one after his first two "Night of the Living Dead" and "Dawn of the Dead". "Day of the Dead" upped the gore and explained what was going on with the apocalypse, but was nothing more than that. "Land of the Dead" was a clever story about the struggles between the have and the have nots (being living or undead), but played out like any other action flick.

Romero realized that he had to close the book on his first set of films, and that he has never had directorial success without them, so in 2007 Romero took a new approach and perhaps even found a new political message with "Diary of the Dead".

Nine Pitt film students and their professor are filming a mummy flick based around all of the old cliches when they first hear reports of the dead coming back to life. Some are skeptical, and who wouldn't be with the mainstream news media and the Internet amateur video telling different stories.

Regardless of what is going on, they have decided that they have to try making it to their homes, so they all reluctantly load up in a Winnebago except for the movie's director who cannot help but document the events that have fallen into his lap. Trying to convince his colleagues that it is the right thing to do is as much of a challenge as surviving the threats of the undead.

Diary of the Dead is the best example of the charm that Romero can offer since Night of the Living Dead. The film has to be done on the cheap because of the necessity to make it look like a student film, but this also forces the director to make every shot worthwhile so that it doesn't end up being as boring as a stereotypical student documentary.

People who find the drama that takes place between the protagonists in other Romero films, namely NotLD, to be boring will be pleased that there is almost a lack of drama. Good documentaries can't script drama, so Romero avoids having too many interactions between the characters. This may leave them as seemingly shallow, but also allows them to be caricatures which are the best things to have in a horror flick. Everything then becomes tongue and cheek, so the audience can sit back, enjoy the ride, and not care whether a person lives or dies as long as the demise is fun.

The demises in Diary are fun, but do not offer the same visceral pleasure they once had. A lot of the effects are dependent on computers and the transition from video game to Savini has yet to be mastered. That is even true in "Zombieland". All the exploding heads are shot from wide angles or are only implied. Fortunately, Romero's violence is still clever enough that we can overlook how we got to the corn syrup, just as long as we get to it.

If there is one thing that did not go over well with Diary of the Dead, it is the need to incorporate footage from outside the main story. It is important to have some, but the overuse of stock footage makes it overly preachy. The message of the confusion created by mass media is easily understood, so the viewer would rather focus on the film-making concept instead of the grand picture.

Diary of the Dead might be the most important zombie flick since "28 Days Later". It understands that zombies are for political messages and graphic violence, and it delivers on both. George A. Romero has finally recaptured what he had accomplished 30 years ago, and hopefully he will continue this with this year's release "Survival of the Dead."

www.imdb.com

Student vs Influencer vs Haikus - Regret about Wregrets

www.deviantart.com

I was able to make the most of a 13-hour work day. Or on Saturday, I just did not have much to say. Having hotel guests who seemed wise enough not to spread their seed over 20 years helped. An athletic event with only one demographic of participants, you cannot beat that in hospitality. Here's to the NCAA Men's Gymnastics Championship, undoubtedly the biggest draw in the whole of Central Illinois when it comes to men wearing tights. Good thing the Shield finale was on Sunday.

The best thing about it, from a writer's perspective, I got a blog out that let me actually express what was on my mind and now I have the time to go and take on an analytical topic that will take up a lot of page space. Sadly, because of the need to go to WWE.com to access their network, I cannot take on what I really want to analyze, the WWE Hall of Fame Legacy Wing, because the firewall deemed the site to be a streaming service.

So, ProWrestlingTees.com, do not get to ambitious and stay a t-shirt company. How will I take advantage of your sales that fall on slow weekends?

Truthfully, the problem with slow weekends is my difficulty to come up with a great introduction. I already expressed all of my thoughts the previous day. Getting to the point just lacks a personal touch. Again, there may not be much personality to get personable if I cannot make it last two days.

I guess I cannot be an Influencer like "Wrestling With Wregret's" Brian Zane.

I was not going to analyze how he became a Youtube star and just address his group of millenials' rankings of WWE Hall of Fame members. But, a suggestion of a theoretical was typed, and I can be long winded. With a glance to the top sentence of that paragraph, I realized a theory to his success was being broken down. A lesson was being made of it, but I was far from the topic I wanted to rise above and now it going to be the topic below.

Brian Zane's success is probably as simple as that he is a nerd about wrestling who would not shut up about it. And that is perhaps the only thing that make him interesting. That statement is not an insult. In adulthood, do you actually make friends or just talk shop with similar geeks? My time making the towns weekly lasted five years, so I have seen plenty of dweebs on the wrestling scene who are unbearable when it comes to their fandom.

You may end up with guys who want to be your friend solely for a single observation they made. When they try to interact with you, it is solely about that observation.

Thanks for noticing I use the sharpshooter and thanks for the Bret Hart Big Gold Belt title plate, but do I need to give you five minutes to converse about the other interest you just assume I must share? Yeah, I have tattoos, but none of them are "Green Lantern" related. "Fuck Ryan Reynolds!" was my go to when it came to that movie at that time, but I cannot give you that because it means you have actual grounds to engage.

My fault was that I do not want to trouble anyone. There is a bit of an inferiority complex. I am not worthy when I know a guy has a name. And that resulted me missing a bunch of handshakes. And in turn, lots of missed chances to pick brains. Guess that means I am stuck being a survivor because I would make a shitty zombie.

It seemed every wrestler in Peoria thought they all had the skill set to not go and be trained by a reputable talent. Reputable talents were guys who you saw on TV in some manner or were at least a name from somewhere else that you heard of, a guy with buzz. I was "The Student of the Game" and I lived the gimmick, so I wanted to be trained that way. And this way allowed me to make a best friend who had to let me know what's what.

I can be bitter that the Peoria's wrestling scene never gave a guy who actually put the time in to be a good wrestler a chance, but they may have known how to mark out right. Kiss a little ass, let the rare veterans they would pay to put them over control the conversation, and you come out more knowledgeable. Why drive through Iowan snow when you could just do that?

If I had my head on straight when I spent the second half of my time killing my Chevy Cavalier, I know there would have been a spot for me in the business. My athleticism was good, but I was never too coordinated. But, if I could see a chance to be creative, I usually nailed it.

Master of alliteration disqualifies me from being a jack of all trades, but if you need gimmick names, I am your Stan Lee. If you need a quick history lesson to come up with angles to pull from, tap me on the shoulder. As long as it is not about me getting over, I am a savant. An idiotic one that is.

The reason I brought up my flaking out is because I lost touch with people who appreciated my opinion. Thus, your new opinions and ideas have no place to go. Zane only needed to amuse his friends in the business to get the buzz going.

I do not know the guy, but at least thinking about his Youtube channel making wrestling history accessible to the masses that need to hear the "Tosh.0" warning message instead of reading it at least gives me the knowledge to help others. Sadly, knowledge I cannot use is worse than useless information.

But I am the guy
Scraping a living serving
Unappreciative heads

Byrneless talking heads
They tell me the door has shut
God opens window 

This creative should jump
Haiku version of Raven
Is all I have left

 

Schrodinger's Cat: Rationalizations of an Existentialist (Part 2: Sub-Subtext Device)

I was bashing my head against my desk at the day job (don't worry, the manager whose office was across from my cubicle took the day off) trying to come up with an opening to the meat of this two part blog. The best I could come up with was an attempt to attach the irony (at least in an Alanis Morrissete sense) of not having the cellular data to use Spotify for some ironic industrial rock (namely Angelspit's "Cubicle") to something, anything that seemed to be a sensible transition from the abandonment discussed previously.

Some how this blog feels like a victory learning that all I needed was to come up with the sub-sub (sub-sub-sub-sub...sub-subtext device) title to inspire the direction. Originally it was going to be called "If I'm the Cat." Despite the cuteness in the my intended blog title, I'm sure that we can get back to a lighthearted attempt at my emotionally dire strait.

Oh for some money for nothing and chicks to redistribute it to. Some one has to make some money from the whimsical concept of a rock n' roll lifestyle or more people will need to be liquidated beyond those who have reality shows on E! and TLC.

I am not coming up with any other music references, so my Penn Jillette homage has lost its fuel, along with my optimism.

Or has it, I seem to be looking on the bright side of every misstep in this writing. Too bad it is going to result in a horrid blog and "Cat: Part 3." There we are, back to my dissatisfaction.

Rationalization 3: Creativity is not intelligence.

I've been dreading this blog because of the writing process. Damn my web design background and its lessons in content length (a web page should not be more that two "page downs"). I should have completed my whining instead of celebrating the proper use of HTML. Then I could move on from telling you about how I cannot move on and write my countdown to extinction this week.

Maybe I should have decided to just play on my assumed intelligence. I say assumed because any one who knows about my first semester of my sophomore year(s) knows I have difficulty with "If/Then" suggestions (and i=-1), so my Physics Feline Philosophy being further alluded to in the title of this blog should signify the possibility of absolute nonsense. But IF you really wanted a car wreck, my assumed intelligence was going to create a new blog dedicated to applying a standing system for Major League Baseball inspired by the table system of the Barclay's Premier League. That would be high school all over again. Excluded from the Tri-Lambda's clique for not being as smart as them, but liking (and probably being further appreciative of) the same things. This time it would be the Sabermetricians.

It wouldn't necessarily be a vain concept, I could use the depressing (because the Cubs are rebuilding) blog to promote what this blog is dedicated to, "Main Event of the Dead. (if you want a treatment of my Pro-Wrestling Zombie Comedy B-movie, email me at russthebus07@gmail.com)" Of course, there is no promotional material because I'm the only one working on this film.

Rationalization 4: Only good promotion brings meaning.

I say this because if "Main Event of the Dead" has no meaning because no one is helping me figure out how to sell it. Sadly, I'm not a female poet or a Swedish reporter, so my death is not going to sell my screenplay. And to their credit, they had completed works while I have completed only a singular work. If the person who raided Steig Larsson PC found drafts, then why is Steig's name on the "Millenium Trilogy (The Girl with the, The Girl Who Played, The Girl Who Kicked)?" I'm just saying, the partner of Steig who received nothing in inheritance could have avoided Sweden's laws by putting her name on the manuscripts.

Fortunately, creativity at least has meaning, even if it is only for the creator. This is actually my conclusion on why there could be a god, too bad people bastardized it by building religions to explain something that "has been widely considered a bad move."

People search for their own meaning to something they did not create. People do so to receive something out of it. Every investment is because of that, the general idea of receiving something to feel good for it, but if do not think about what the creator gets out of it, then you are missing the point, like RELIGION.

Do I go into how "Duck Dynasty" made an atheist out of me? It doesn't seem timely...but I may have to save that for my sharing with assholish Facebook posting (MAY, as this blog explains, I don't like scheduling my releases).

All I can offer is that you can help me finally do something with my creativity, maybe make a living out of it, I'll settle on just getting an in into an industry that people can blame for my suicide instead of themselves. That isn't much of an offer, and has led me to a dark realization that may make you reconsider.

Rationalization 5: Suicide is the only way to dispense justice.

Let me just say, if someone offs themselves, unless they leave hints that you are why they committed the act, you aren't to blame. And even if they leave hints, they're probably just vengeful, so it's not your fault, but can you blame them? They get a chance to end their life with a sense of justice. Justice they deem fit, like justice should be. Justice is for making the victim feel like everything is right, not the victim's family and friends. Friends and family want to see someone suffer, only the victims knows if they should.

Too bad I give a shit. An asshole couldn't resist the suspense of, "will you need to answer for my choice?" If I chose (it's not a slam dunk) to end my life, I know it was because I don't have the worth to justify breathing, not because of other people. You could say that if people cared enough that cannot happen, but if I don't have anything to offer, how can I have any worth?

I should get rid of the means to give vengeance from beyond the grave. Then again, there are a couple of people who deserve to know I don't think well of them. Only a couple, and some local wrestling promoters (they may want to beat me to purchasing skyprowrestling.com or spwrestling.com). Some messages seem worth immortalizing, like the samurai with seppuku and monks with gasoline.

Rationalization 6: Jesus was a poser because of that resurrection bullshit. Why would I want to be associated with that?

So, the sub-subtext device I intended to use has not been explained. I'm a slave to ideal web design. I guess I will get to continue this next week with "Part 3: If I'm the Cat."

Eastern Promises, A Canadian Exploration of London's Russian Mafia Starring an Australian

Well, it is 2009, so this fall should be our biannual appearance by director David Cronenberg. Unfortunately, the 66 year-old is passing up on a chance to further build his resume by possibly withdrawing from public light for too long. Perhaps, he considers himself to be too fringe or he is just waiting for his "Lifetime Achievement" Oscar, but I really would like to hear his name more frequently in the general discussion of film.

As for directorial style, he maybe over appreciated by some, but for being daring, no one has taken more chances. With the rise of Viggo Mortensen marketability, some would say his last two films may have held something back in challenging subject matter, but on the other hand those seemed to be turned off by titles like "The Fly", "Shivers", "Naked Lunch", etc. the opportunity to give his talents a chance. I have yet to see "A History of Violence", but if it is as good "Eastern Promises", David Cronenberg seemly has a grand and new vision of what gangster cinema should be like.

A 14 year-old Russian dies during birth in a London hospital. Hoping to find the girls family to avoid putting the child in foster care, the half Russian midwife, Anna (Naomi Watts of "I Heart Huckabees", "Mulholland Dr.", "Tank Girl"), wants to translate the diary she found among the girl's personal effects. Not wanting to deal with her racist Russian uncle, she decides to approach a Russian restaurant owner to translate it. Soon he and the shady chauffeur, Nikolai (Viggo Mortensen of "The Lord of the Rings", and "Texas Chainsaw Massacre III") seem overly interested in her activities, but for the child's sake, Anna will try to weather the storm of criminal innuendo no matter the cost.

The actors are great, and you have to appreciate any director who can pull of a nude, shower fight scene without it looking tacky. Cronenberg also makes it a point to show that every shot has its own meaning, and does it so the audience realizes that every part of the story is important and not a bit pretentious. This may actually show the flaws in his fringe work like "Scanners" or "Shivers", but that maybe because how much can you or do you need to write about exploding heads or horny parasites.

Cronenberg was not a writer on his last two films which shows he may have learned that subject matter needs to be restrained no matter how much you adore it. These films are probably his most critically acclaimed works, so that only supports this argument. Eastern Promises did not receive an Oscar nomination for its script like A History of Violence which allows me the comfort of not being overly impressed by the film's story.

The writing is not bad by any means, since the new crime drama (especially in this technological age) has to be more cloak and dagger like. It is all about covering up the secrets that something bad is going on then to consider the immensity of how bad the bad guys truly are. Once all is revealed, no matter how brutal some of the imagery maybe, the climax can be nothing more than the boss goes down.

Also some of the secrets that are revealed could be declared tacky, if not so brilliantly portrayed that is. Mortensen's gives this mysterious character a personality that prevents you from hating him, and also makes you believe he is seriously troubled with his life style. When you find out his secret, you want to get up and cheer because in a film this dark, you are rewarded with a true hero. The hidden nature of his is also delivered correctly, so no one will left feeling like it is his role from "American Yakuza", all over again.

Since I have not seen A History of Violence, I cannot call Eastern Promises a must see, but this is definitely a great step in allowing crime drama to still be relevant. Great acting and directing with an acceptable story may serve as a great introduction to the abilities and potential of David Cronenberg. With his vast library of work, there is no way that you will leave this film without wanting to see at least one more of his classics.

For the screamish, I hope that ends up being A History of Violence. Yes, I'm sure there is brutal imagery, but it has got to be less brutal than what car crashes, giant insects, and the telepathic can offer.

Green Jelly without Rambo

Current mood: busy

The first thing my Creative Writing instructor wanted us to write. Here we go.

The Three Lil Pigs

Eighteen years. The age that Ma and Pa Pork kick their kids out of the pen. Eighteen years, or was it 18 months, or dare I say weeks. The point is that Mom's nipples are sore. Dad is having a midlife crisis about his fate.

Bacon, ham, pork chops, hopefully a seed giver. No matter Dad's fate, the folks have too much on their mind to deal with sharing space with the offspring.

They are pigs, and since I do not know of any prep schools for the non-kosher futured individuals, I assume they were home schooled. Regardless of how they obtained their educations, it is safe to say they lacked the tools for an adequate one.

So with the neglect of their parents leading the three little pigs to the wild, from a Darwinian stand point, they do not seem fit to survive.

But survive they must, and one think each thought they knew was how to watch their own backside. It was a mutual agreement that they decided to go their separate ways in search of shelter, food, phat booty, and the American way.

I don't know if I'll get a chance to finish this tale, so if someone could write the tale of the first pig, I'd appreciate it.

Schrodinger's Cat Returns - And It Sounds Like the Dread Pirate Roberts

I think that, with the focus on the world outside myself the past three entries, I may have lost track of who I am a bit. It is a scary thought. This blog might be my best friend. MainEventoftheDead.com is the only thing that wants to listen to me and know who I really am.

https://www.rockpapercynic.com/

My plans on moving on from Champaign before middle age hits may stem from writing something that I intend on being read. Before I moved out to the CU, writing was strictly practice, journals for the most part. There were my Schrodinger's Cat blogs about whether or not I truly existed, but Peoria was the box.

They do not write about the cat scratching the shit out of the sides the box and the inevitable hissy fits. I guess the scientists did not account for sounds when they discuss the hypothetical contraption. Or they knew that if it fits, it sits, a universal fact that was known before the memes.

My cat blogs were not about trying to be insightful, it was searching for insight. Those blogs were about why should I try instead of actual trying. My MFK series was about randomness and making sense of it. Not attractive like aborting 18-month old "children", killing the annoying and demanding customers, or wrestling (Yay!), but they were more helpful to me.

I guess the point is, I am trying again after two and a half year of gritting my teeth through lousy hotel ownership, the Trumptastic assholes that you would expect a Jimmy John's executive to invite, and thin walls that made sure every guest in the hotel knew it was some cunt's greatest day of their lives and they want it to last until Wrigleyville's last call.

Now I get to fearing, so, you work at another hotel in a big city. Where will you get to write there? The support staff you lack at those will be there, and they will probably have there eyes on you deterring creativity. You will not be what is presumed to be Kansas anymore. If that does not sum up downstate's problems, I do not know what will.

Peoria was a dead end for me. I did not fit in, and I knew the dancers would move on. Why would not I? It was fear: fear to disappoint my parents by not being able to cope; fear of failure; fear that the rest of the world had the same opinion of me that P-Town had. And since it was Champaign instead of Chicago, fear that Stefanie Smith would be waiting to scream, "Told you so!"

Moving North or West is going to require me to do even more research towards making my writing turn into a living. Chicago, improv classes to in turn write and get my writing exposed. Las Vegas, driving to Los Angeles whenever I can to whore my scripts out. No days off, but I might finally be ready to hit the towns again.

Aside from the debt, which a lot carried over from out west, it seems that I have finally succeeded at something since I donned the Tigger Mask outfit in AAW continuity. The sad thing is not that took 11 years, but that the years did not end in round number. Call it OCD or call it superstition, that make me dread the next step. At this rate, I will not succeed till I am 42.

Then again, that is the answer to life, the universe and everything. Be patient and do not lose hope. Losing length on this blog entry is enough.

Kevin Bolk - The Princess Bride Dread Pirate Roberts Westley

Schrodinger's Cat: Rationalizations of an Existentialist (Part 1: Sharing)

I hate to be part of the statistics, but as far as I can tell the first week of the New Year is the most depressing. At least for 2014, and I at least earned it.

The year of "our" lord two-thousand fourteen (can't we switch to star dates...as a "Star Wars" fan, I hate to suggest it, but SCIENCE) was kicked off by one of my best friends of the past couple of years cutting off the only way to interact with them (Facebook since they moved six hours away). To her credit, it wasn't because they seemingly wrote me off for standing by my liberal stances, but that I brought potential shame to them. I hope they do not think I have written them off because I won't follow them on Twitter as a compromise.

Rationalization 1: Twitter is for followers, not friends.

Twitter should be about promoting yourself (@xxxRiley does a great job of that). It is not for people you necessarily know, but you find interesting. Maybe they are your friends, maybe not, but you get an insight into what they are thinking, to understand them...or buy their shit. Once Twitter started showing you every tweet "@" said person, the feed is impossible to dredge through (in my opinion).

I also liked Twitter more when it was just about the 140 characters. Once people started retweeting stuff about people I do not give a damn about, that may as well be sharing. Sharing offensive political memes from people who are one of the following:

• Too lazy to make the opinion their own.
• Too brainwashed to think about what they are posting.
• Too scared that they cannot get attention unless they put a loud picture on their page.

Warning: My next blog (following the Schodinger series) be about my anti-offensive meme tweets. If you post an uncaring meme on Facebook, I'll have the blog to share in your comments section. I just want you to think about what you said. It is not personal...unless your a right wing Facebook mole.

You may think I believe the left doesn't have nasty and offensive things to say, but I do not. I just haven't seen any. And since I think Facebook should follow the same rules as a bar, I'm not going to be waiving my Red and Yellow pride (the Hulkster wore it, and he was considered a real American). My Facebook avatar will also never be me in my Guy Fawkes or my Obama lucha libre mask.

In principle, I realize I have to follow that friend of mine. They are interesting, I'll give them that. Just hope they do not have their "family-pleasing" Facebook account connected to it, because I have found sharing ends friendships.

Rationalization 2: Sharing ends friendships.

Sadly, it can end real friendships, at least that's what the second abandonment of 2014 is trying to sell me on. My best friend of nearly 10 years decided to write me off because I made her feel like her friendship is a consolation prize to me. All I told her was that she didn't do a damn thing to be a friend because she was always focused on her boyfriend. My opinion doesn't matter about him, but when I'm in a car for six hours round trip to see her and her focus is always on him, how am I not suppose to feel neglected and used?

All I wanted was her time when I made an effort to see her. Or at least a call or text between the times I got to hang out with her.

We had fun, or at least I thought we did. The day ended in a hug and an LOL (the last text she responded to) when I told heer I sharted myself as I made it home with time to shower before work (after digging my car out of snow twice and picking her breakfast up). I didn't find out that she wrote me off until a month after I last saw her.

Her interpretation of the night was that I berated her for having feelings about someone else that I can't justify liking. I never brought him up, she just interrupted while we were watching the French documentary "Mutantes" (to her credit, I was asking questions and offering my opinions about the practicality of legalizing prostitution in the name of feminism during/inspired by the film) demanding that I "LIKE HER BOYFRIEND!!!" Needless to say an argument ensued, but we soon got to laughing and listening to music as we drank till passing out.

I had told her how she neglected me previously prior to this visit (no communication for two weeks and then "When you coming to visit?" while acknowledging that I was a terminal downer) and that I wasn't going to visit until I was in a better state.

I tried to contact her through out the two weeks after my visit, and she didn't respond. My run of being in a "better" state of mind was winding down as my anxiety over my next attempt to further "Main Event of the Dead" (for a treatment of my Pro-Wrestling Zombie B-Movie Comedy, e-mail russthebus07@gmail.com) was coming up. To be focused on the script, I didn't try to communicate with anyone. So a month passes, and I told her that its happening again. She told me to fuck off because I wanted what her boyfriend has.

Do I want a girlfriend who dedicates that much time to me as she does to him? If she has other friends then, no. I just want a friend who would take the time and make an effort to appreciate my mindset and not tell me to give up on who I am. Instead, if I don't have any worth to anyone, I won't have that.

So this is where I'm leaving you for part two of this blog series.

Can Michael Bay Desecrate Everything We Love?

Current mood:  sad

The new "Friday the 13th", a film with potential because it immediately gives us the seven footer, but what exactly is this flick? A reinvention? An homage? Or messed up? With the involvement of Michael Bay, I lean towards the latter.

I won't get into a "Transformers" debate, and I liked "The Rock" despite it was overblown in every shot, but realize that Bay broke all of my motion picture standards.

These are:

• There is no such thing as a bad Ewan McGregor film ("Star Wars 2" is on Mannequin Skywalker),
• There are no bad Scarlett Johansson movies (I'll stand by any cat friendly comic book hero film),
• And Steve Buscemi cannot be featured is a garbage flick ("Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within had no Chocobos").

In the name of "awesomeness,"" The Island" screwed cinema up forever.

Just think back to the "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre" remake which I thought was utter crap. It had potential...hold on...no it didn't. Since gore was the justification of the original's sequels, we knew what the classic relative bloodless classic could have been. The remake was 90 minutes that I have to force myself not to regret viewing it because their was nothing emotional behind the violence.

Fortunately, this film gave me the knowledge that R. Lee Ermey, sadly, isn't a guy who can star, so I knew I could skip "The Beginning".

A great beginning would have been an abusive Ermey driving Leatherface to the point of bathroom, chainsaw murder-suicide. That is why the direct prequels always fails. Sorry Short Round. Especially since you got replaced by Shia LaBeouf.

In its defense, if it even deserves one (at least number 3 gave Viggo Mortensen work), it was not a totally heartless effort. I'll give a damn about most Ermey products, and they at least thought they had a starlet as the lead. Personally, I feel Jessica Biel cannot act her way out of a paper bag, and she's a curse to any project.

She's why I haven't seen "The Illusionist", and after a look at her filmography on IMDb, I'll officially quit wondering whether or not I'll watch "Elizabethtown". And this is coming from a fan of "Vanilla Sky".

I'll also go as far as saying it wasn't the lack of directorial ability by David Goyer or the celebrity senility of Wesley Snipes that made "Blade: Trinity" suck. Ryan Reynolds's undeserved career along with even focusing on one of Biels's characters is trouble for any project.

Don't bother defending Reynolds. He delivers all of his lines as if he was terminally sarcastic. It's his only emotion and if it isn't funny, his dialogue is totally wasted.

Since we're discussing (okay, I'm ranting) about bad horror, you know I speak the truth when you look at "The Amityville Horror" remake. Which was another Michael Bay produced disaster.

When you look at what Bay's money is going towards, the horror will not come from these films. There is no doubt that all his "Nightmare on Elm Street" will give us are new Halloween mask and nothing more.

I will at least say with "Friday the 13th", these were all wretched films. How bad can his dough muck these up? Easy if Jason has to be awesome.

This isn't IWA Puerto Rico, FMW or even Wing. Jason in all other realms is an over-sized goof ball. He is Kane without a cool entrance.

So it's impossible to kill him, big deal. The only reason he can kill is because his victims are even dumber than him. We cheer him on because he takes care of who we want to see die. He doesn't have to be shot artistically, his mayhem just has to be unique. Like the "Jason X" and the virtual reality camper sluts scene, or his dual impalements, and his ridiculous decapitation reel.

And don't give him hell for killing chicks who put out. After we see their assets, do we really need them living to drag out a lame story even further?

Honestly, I'd see a lot of potential with the remake if better decisions were made. Why not stick with the homicidal mother and cast an A list star?

Sally Field did that "Say It Ain't So" shite, and with her Boniva, she's flexible enough for stunt work.

How about Judi Dench? She's British, so turning down work isn't in her nature.

A strung out Courtney Love would be perfect. I could even see Pam Grier kicking more ass. What? We can have a Black president, but Jason has got to be white?

Let's split the difference. Put the mom under a goaly mask, put a Whalers sweater on her, and you got a tasteful "Sleep Away Camp" ending.

There was so much potential, but in the end we are better off with seeing Kevin James transition to movie stardom.

That's what we need right now after the fall of "My Bloody Valentine 3-D". I'm can't be the only one who thinks bad horror can be smited by a fat guy and Hello Kitty paraphernalia.

With that being said, were Farley and Belushi's deaths really accidents, or could they have been the paranoid actions of the live action "Transformers" producers?

Maybe Spielberg killed John to further bury "1941".

Botched: How Archaeology Movies Should Be

Kit Ryan’s "Botched" is the Indiana Jones of horror movies. Maybe not in terms of budget, but never taking itself too seriously and ridiculous misadventures makes it a lot more entertaining than Brendan Frasier or Nicolas Cage’s attempts to play Harrison Ford’s treasure hunter.

Wanting to pay of his family’s debt, Ritchie (Stephen Dorff) returns to his mother’s homeland of Russia to steal a cross that belongs to the descendants of Czar Ivan: The Terrible. When the building’s security becomes aware of the robbery, the lift is stopped on the thirteenth floor, trapping Ritchie and anyone unlucky enough to end up in the elevator. One of the “hostages” is decapitated by a huge set of scissors and the floor’s features artwork that would make Leatherface proud leads Ritchie to the realization that everyone has become the targets of the blood thirst of Ivan’s most recent set of grandchildren.

Check out the rest of review at "Ninety For Chill: A More Acceptable Runtime"

A Wrestling Weekend Past and All the Corrections

The consolidating of all my blogs to MainEventOfTheDead.com had gone pretty smoothly until my revisiting my time in Partial Hospitalization for Psychiatric reasons (depression, and OSF would say alcoholism, but that was not really a problem until I moved to a 2 am last call town). These went long and my obsessive compulsive nature left the visual appearance of the content feeling off.

Thus, I need to write longer new blogs since the entries from My First Blog turned into being primarily movie reviews, and since I would talk about my depression on HeadTrip309.Blogspot.com, there were not as many long-winded rants about how I was feeling. So, there was a time where I was even doing more micromanaging than I am now. Perhaps it was not the social scene in Peoria that was the problem, but my quirk-driven nature. Alcohol could have been the problem because it did not relax me enough.

My satire game had been strong the past couple of weeks with "Destroy Capitalism! Destroy the Consumer" (My one regret was not using the word kill instead of destroy. How did I miss the alliteration?) and "How Many Trimesters Are Too Few: Abolish the Terrible Twos" (Despite my current Catholic-raised girlfriend's objections. That makes me want to figure out the trauma that lead to a lot of my decisions opposing my WASP grandfather's prejudices.), but each got shorter as I wrote them. The only thing I know that will take up a lot of space on a website is my analysis of pro-wrestling. Thank the Gods (LeVeque, Silkin, Gedo and McMahon) for the previous weekend.

How to Have Given Wrestlemania an Acceptable Runtime:

Because I operate a movie critique website that states the ideal runtime is one hour and 37 minutes (Ninetyforchill.com), I think I may be the ideal person to make the booking decisions to prevent a six-hour plus show.

Move the Raw Tag Team Championship Match to Monday.

They just played the match back the following night. Ryder and Hawkins would still get a hometown victory and The Revival would be receiving the treatment they want us to perceive that they have been.

Move the Smackdown Tag Team Championship Match to the Preshow

If Ricochet and Aleister Black were going to fail in all three of their tag team challenges, did they need to lose the last on the biggest stage?

Move Kurt Angle's retirement match to after AJ Styles vs Randy Orton

Is it me, or did the show drag for the last half because of all the Smackdown matches being on early?

Cut the Roman Reigns vs Drew MacIntyre Match

I did not recall them doing anything with it on Raw the next night. MacIntyre was on Smackdown to get away from Reigns anyhow.

Move the John Cena/Elias Segment to Raw

If the demoted Undertaker to from the showcase of the immortals, why not John Cena. Have Elias take an FU on Monday, and a Tombstone on Tuesday.

Cut all of the video packages

There was a two-hour preshow with only 40 minutes of wrestling. If you watched the preshow, you had to watch them twice adding to the dragging sensation.

Who is the Disgruntled Wrestling Fan's Real World Champion?

Check out the rest of this blog and the indie/correct view on wrestling at The "Disgruntled's Real Championship Wrestling"

Hellboy 2: 2 Much or 2 Short

https://wwistreaming.me/hellboy-ii-les-legions-dor-maudites/

The Next Terminator has to be John Cena, Ron Perlman, or Dwayne Johnson. But does he have to be white or off white?

And that's how you incorporate background noise into your opening statement. Why waste that one as a tweet?

It sucks going from a clever moment to a shameful confession. If it was not an American production, I hadn't seen Guillermo del Toro's work. There is no good reason. My only excuse is when it comes to DVDs for $9 at Wal-Mart, I have a tendency to buy brain rot.

"Ultraviolet", "Saw III", "The Marine", you get the picture (and I get a way to rap this review around). I wasn't trying to decay my gray matter, I just didn't want to think. For this I felt cowardly. Del Torro's work intimidates me if there is no Ron Perlman present. If I hadn't watched "Amelie" with my ex, the same would go for Caro and Jeunet.

Now, did I like "Blade II" and "Hellboy"? The answer is yes. His vision of Blade may have been to elaborate for a martial arts action movie, but the biggest flaws were made by the writer David S. Goyer.

How can you waste the talent of Norman Reedus ("The Boondock Saints"), Danny John-Jules ("Red Dwarf"), and Tony Curran ("Underworld: Evolution")? Will any American use Donnie Yen properly?

Del Toro may have been limited with Blade II because that was not his world. His style was too contrasting. He was able to nail Hellboy because America really wanted him to do the movie. After the success of "Pan's Labyrinth", a film that seems to be all about its imagery, his stock rose again, but this may not have been a good thing for "Hellboy II: The Golden Army."

The ad campaign for this film seemed to have focused on bright, grand visuals, and despite Del Toro's directorial ability is apparent with HB, the dark, claustrophobic world it was set in was part of its charm. I do not want to ever see Perlman in a bright environment. It just seems alien.

Del Toro with all is newly earned colors does not seem to be the right man for a demonic superhero movie. And now, close to two years after its release, I've inadvertently heard about some elements of the script that at first sound seem tacky. Thus, I am left very worried about the future of the HB franchise.

What if Del Toro feels that he has a right to go nuts with HB II due to his prior film's glory? The second lay after a marvelous orgasm will never seem as good because you are doing it to have the same feeling again instead of just enjoying getting laid. It would be unfair if Hellboy II: The Golden Army gets this treatment my Mexico's new super stud. Enough of my paranoia, let the potential cinematic donkey show commence.

Feeling that mankind is destined to destroy all paranormal beings on the planet, Elf Prince Nueda determines that he will call on the power of the legendary Golden Army to bring a new age to this world. He needs the three pieces of the crown and a map to find the army, both of which have been brought to the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense by his sister. It is now up to Hellboy to get past his troubles with Liz, and save the world once again.

The first Hellboy was not made to be a huge success. It knew it had a target audience (comic book fans), and was counting strictly on that to make a profit. Hellboy II may have been a victim of the priors surprising success, and created an ad campaign that used all of the bright imagery to show how the common movie goer should get behind it. Of course, Hellboy and even Guillermo del Toro are not for the common movie goer.

As for my fear that the light will conquer the quaint darkness, it can be dismissed. What you saw in the commercials is not what this film is about. As for my fear of a director going nuts, there is some truth to that in the films writing. In turn, the editing could have been better since Del Torro is trying to put his Lucasesque script into two hours.

I understand that Del Torro wants us all to relate to and like all of the films characters. The problem with that is not everyone in the supporting cast has to be as loved as the headliner. Abe's storyline (a love one) seems to be unnecessary because you already have one with Big Red. It is like giving C3-P0 a love interest (don't get into the R2-D2 argument). Better yet it is like giving Luke or Obi-Wan a chick (despite Mara Jade seems cool and wicked hot, the "Star Wars" novels suck). The point is George Lucas knew he only needed one per trilogy, so why try to put two into a comic book movie?

Which is the most glaring flaw with Hellboy II, it tries to fit too much into one movie. This film would have to have been three hours to get it right. We are given an interesting new character, but we need to pray for a HB III to make him worthwhile, and its message of tolerance towards freaks is lost whenever there is action to take place. This message becomes more of a disclaimer than anything worth delving into.

As for Del Torro's other job on the film, director, he does it very well. Blame the writing for the lack of surprises in the battle, but the material for the most part is directed well. The only issue I have with it otherwise is the shots which seem like the producers were begging for shots that immediately make us think of Pan's Labyrinth.

For those who just like to see Ron Perlman and Selma Blair do their niche audience thing, Hellboy II may be worth a rental. If you are looking for the next grand Guillermo del Toro film or just a good comic book movie, you are going to be let down.

Fortunately, his next film is "The Hobbit" and he has got Peter Jackson to keep him inline. Of course, I haven't seen "King Kong" yet, so maybe there is something to worry about.

Dance of the Dead: For those who thought "Return of the Living Dead" was too cheesy

Those Red Box DVD kiosks outside grocery stores and truck stops have to do better when describing their offerings. I cannot remember them mentioning that Ghost House Underground’s "Dance of the Dead" was a comedy, and with so many clever gimmick zombie flicks dropping the ball in terms of capitalizing on the humor of the walking dead (on a plane, in a prison, in a mall circa 2004, etc.), it is important to tell potential viewers that someone has released a refined version of the original "Return of the Living Dead". No, Dance does not have the neon red pubic hair of the cult classic, but it makes up for that by doing everything else the RotLD better.

It seems like it should be common sense not to build a nuclear power plant next to a cemetery, but in a predominantly white community where the son of the police chief is an aspiring backyard wrestler, this idea’s downside can be overlooked. The cemetery’s custodian has been able to keep the reanimated corpse problem under wraps, but one night the high school’s science fiction club just has to give their P.K.E. meter a try, and the recently departed decide that they have to take some kind of action against these meddling kids.

Check out the rest of review at "Ninety For Chill: A More Acceptable Runtime"

.45 or a Feminist's Adrenaline Tease

If I tell any of my friends that I rented a straight to video Milla Jovovich film, an explanation is expected from me. To that, all I can say is,  "I am just optimistic."

She always seems to give her heart into every role, and I can't say that I've seen a bad performance. Surely she has another "Fifth Element" in her. Fuck Sam Rockwell for landing the lead in "Moon". Just imagine the potential of a kooky Milla isolated with a Kevin Spacey voiced robot.

If only we could some how set "The Miracle Worker" in space, Milla Jovovich would have gone full circle.

Perhaps ".45" was...okay...is just to fringe for a theatrical release. Hollywood knows that she has some drawing power, but I guess she isn't a sure enough bet to bring Stephen Dorff back to the big screen. Thank God for Johnny Depp and Michael Mann for Stephen's sake.

It's sad that Dorff is pretty much considered to be a younger Val Kilmer, so it must mean he's only straight to video talent now. So it may never be Milla's fault for gracing the "new release" wall instead of a 3-D cut out. It's just the supporting cast bringing her down.

• "You Stupid Man" - David Krumholtz (better known as one of the Harold and Kumar jews), William Baldwin, Denise Richards
• ".45" - Stephen Dorff, Angus MacFayden, Aisha Tyler

This may actually be an unfair correlation with .45. This story wouldn't make any bank at the box office because it is brutal, and that is not in an action-packed way. It wouldn't have been in a bad way, but this film is a kick return team member wanting to play hero by charging an onside kick. .45 knew what it wanted to be, but wasn't sure how to be it.

Kat (Jovovich) is an illegal gun dealer's girlfriend in one of the seedier burrows of NYC. She will do anything to help him out in hopes that they will one day have the change to move to the ocean side. Unfortunately for her, he (MacFayden) is an abusive, alcoholic, and no matter how her friends (Dorff and "Stargate SG1's" Sarah Strange) tell her to get out of the relationship and into their protection, she seems determined to stick it out. One night the abuse goes too far, and Kat must decide how to get out of this inevitable death trap, in the most powerful way possible.

.45's Deceptive Advertising:

Why does the box have Milla sexed up with a gun? Why do all the DVD menus transition are fades out from fresh bullet holes? Unless the real world has become the one Samuel L. Jackson from "Jackie Brown" lives in, this isn't how to properly sell a video. If you are looking for gun play, this title has none.

If this was the films way of drawing action starved men into checking out a movie about feminism and domestic abuse, it may work, but as a feminist, this may back fire. This misrepresentation doesn't show a woman's strength. Perhaps it's a poor attempt to be clever (we girls tricked you), but this is a film written and directed by a guy, "The Shield's" Gary Lennon. It is disappointing that a guy whose show never strays from brutal imagery in its advertising does so with his directorial debut.

.45 wanted to be one thing, and that was a brutal depiction of domestic abuse and female liberation. Unfortunately, it does not know how to tell this story.

There is a lot of dialogue that one can enjoy for comedic value, but by the second half of the film it disappears. When the second act starts and the brutality ends, it becomes a struggle to sit through the film without the wit of the first act. Not until the third act where the cleverness of Kat's plan comes into play and the results of it do you appreciate Lennon's screenwriting ability.

As a writer/director, Lennon has a lot to learn. The film uses observational interviews to try explaining the film like in documentaries or as an homage to Woody Allen in the late 70's. These are suppose to lead you to a better understanding of the characters, but they lack depth, so further exposition is just a wasted effort. It is sad, because the actor delivering these performances (Jovovich in particular) give their all to make you like these characters.

The worst thing about the direction is that his difficulty to follow the action is quite apparent. The domestic disturbance was intense, but shot horribly. It feels like you are missing something, and when you are watching a girl being beaten and ridiculed like that, I for one don't want to think about what isn't there.

There was a lot of effort to make .45 a meaningful and provocative film, but the unclear vision of the Gary Lennon wastes what everyone put into it. The issues that the film explores definitely need more attention, but this film does not call on Hollywood to do so. .45 is a sad example of how good intentions are lost when there is poor execution.

Destroy Capitalism! Destroy the Consumer!

I probably need to be making zombie jokes or having hotter movie takes to make better use of the @maineventzombie. Retweeting left-wing accounts and complaining about my experiences in retail does not really scream, "guy with a pro-wrestling zom-com script that probably can be produced for under $25,000. I will be happy to send those interested with the concept a treatment of "Main Event of the Dead." Just send your request to russthebus07@gmail.com.

Then again "Main Event of the Dead" is "suppose to be"/"better be" gory, so perhaps I just need to come up with gorier demises to consumers. Stuff that tops:

Would not mind every retail parking lot to have one landmine before the door to a store. Do you really need those back-to-school deals? #WhenLifeGivesYou___Make #Deals8:16 AM - 30 Mar 2019

I may not be getting the horror auteur attention, but I am at least coming with some great ideas. And since satire and movie reviews are what I know I am good at, lets roll with it.

Mined parking lots would actually end up with a George Romero like situation. Come Black Friday, people will probably take their chances. After the mine goes off, those who were not willing to try their luck would immediately rush to that retailer. Too much traffic, and the crowd would turn on itself, and there would be fewer consumers.

So lets make sure the Center for Disease Control is always properly funded or we make Max Brooks required reading in the K-12 education systems. As long as we stay free of movie-infections, there shan't be z-word apocalypses. It does make me wish that every flyover state was its own island. They are the ones that would probably oppose my suggested measures. Let them suffer the fates.

The only problem with wishing violent fates on those wanting to save a few bucks is that I work for these people. If my depression did not leave me feeling like a big enough waste, I would be a waste without a particular set of skills. But if automation is going to destroy industry, why should the commercial sector be spared?

We cannot just leave well-meaning human beings to starve, so a living wage/allowance will need to be established at some point. If everyone can relate to each other, society will be quicker to take care of itself. Any endeavor would be one to make things better for everyone.

Why not have a chuckle or two as we develop a way to put away our capitalist ways. We need to get away from wanting stuff as it is. Consequences for High Dynamic Range might just be what we need.

Retailers should be allowed to execute one rude customer a day. Are you going to lose your temper if the store had not checked off their kill board? The only real problem is that the store has to time it well. You just cannot going killing off the first smeghead who curses at you. Then everybody will flock to your location to work out their anger issues.

Maybe we can have that bowel of 10,000 Skittles by the door. Are you willing to shop knowing that there is a poison one in their? No taste for sugar, no taste for discounts.

Oh the things I can dream up of involving electricity and direction signs.

I am certain making consumerism deadly can work when it comes to stock trade. Businesses that want to make a public offering should need to make an actual offering to the gods. Lord of Light protect us.

In the end, it will turn out like the last season of "Game of Thrones", we gotta all bond together and treat each other with respect. Otherwise, it is going to end up being messy with the 1% being the king of the ashes. Ashes cannot be abused, so they will end up destroying themselves to make up for it.

If it has to be a little messy now to get us to listen to AOC, so be it.

http://ohbythewayblog.blogspot.com/

Milk: Emotional and EMOTIONAL:-D

Current mood:  betrayed

What will I do when Oscar season is over? And why can't "The Wrestler" play at 2:20 pm in Peoria? I not downgrading Gus Van Sant's latest film, but it is more socially comforting to discuss a movie that doesn't have so much gay sex.

And as a struggling pro wrestler (Randy 'The Ram' Robinson don't got shit on me) I will tell you to stay away from the spandex hypocrisy comments you are thinking of.

The story of Harvey Milk is perhaps the most important in the last quarter of the 20th century. Just follow me on that statement. Do we really want to acknowledge or even argue about Larry Flint fight for freedom of expression? Still, I would not be surprised if, especially in Middle America (particularly Peoria since it was damn near February before the area got it), that many people don't know about what Milk did for human and more importantly gay rights. And how it came to a senseless end.

So I was a little disappointed that they gave the ending away at the beginning when they did such a great job of hiding it in the ad campaign. And because the lack of public knowledge, a feel of inspirational fiction was possible. The movie is so well written, and the viewer gets so behind the cause that we didn't need to know that it was true.

Until the end of course, but still, ignorance would have allowed for an awesome happy ending.

The acting is great on most accounts. Milk's second lover (portrayed by Diego Luna) was obnoxious, but I suppose it was written that way. Perhaps the performance should be praised since I didn't feel bad, hell I was waiting and prepped to cheer for his...well I'm not going to give that away.

Josh Brolin Best Supporting Actor nomination (and my pick) was earned as he definitely made Dan White a truly senseless character. The viewer and Harvey Milk a like want to understand his motivations, but the man behind the "Twinky Defense" was never understood in real life thus he cannot be truly understood here.

Writer Dustin Lance Black did a wonderful job of trying to establish our inability to quite lay a finger on what drove White, but tastefully fueled our ability to hypothesize. If he deserved recognition (which I doubt would be valid for a double political assassin), the person may be a worthwhile subject for a film.

Black's wrap around device, Milk's recording a tape in case something horrible happened to him, could have been put to better use. When the device should have been stopped sooner in my opinion especially with all the details of Milk that were given, but to reach the common man, it may have been the right decision to use it through out.

With Van Sant's directing, the device became secondary. It may confuse some viewers, but Van Sant was able to establish three different realms by using different camera effects, and once the viewer realizes the tricks, he or she becomes able to see and respect the vision Van Sant had for this film. The vision may not be his best, but again shows us the talent he possesses.

And the gayness he strives for. I don't want to sound homophobic, but some of it was a bit to graphic and there were only a couple of scenes that were necessary. After the film is over, the viewer is left wondering, "maybe some Ben/Matt action should have been featured in Goodwill Hunting."

On second thought, with how Sean Penn looks now, maybe some Affleck/Williams action was what Gus really wanted.

This Oscar season has given us some pictures that need to be seen. "Milk" might be the best historical picture of modern history we have received this decade, and has a message that is important to everyone.

Sadly, the importance of releasing a Oscar caliber film so late in the year prevented this from saving Gay Marriage in California, but may have laid out the blue prints for the next campaign for equal rights.

Milk showed that we are one loud and proud homo away from cultural change. So those who put your faith in the Bible, enjoy your religious sanctity while you can. Get use to it.

www.rottentomatoes.com

7/27/08 - 8/29/09: Nothing has changed, A year Wasted?

I sit in my empty room. No lights. No Music. Just sat there.

Honestly, I never wanted a System of the Down lyric to define me, but that's exactly where I feel I'm at.

What do I do what do I say...

I really feel like I have nothing moving forward in my life. My friends seem to be at different, and better places than me. Returning to wrestling is seeming more and more like an impossibility. And all I'll get out of school is the ability to speak Mandarin. I don't see a degree and that is some niu pi.

With all the good things have been seeming to be unattainable, I cannot come up with a reason to keep forcing myself to obtain them. I genuinely feel like I've ran my course, and it's time to answer to whatever created me (I hope it's not those pricks Tom Cruise talks about).

To add to the problem, I really want to own a gun. My intentions at this time aren't suicidal. Just seeing those commercials for Jolie's latest flick make me want to see if I can curve bullets.

See how bad off I am, I'm tempted to see Angelina in a leading role. Just put me in a line up with Clea Duvall and Torch.

So, this has become a long-winded blog before I have even gotten to the point.

There is one more task I want to do before I die, and that's to finish and sell my screenplay. This maybe the only thing worth living for right now. This is at least going to be worthwhile to most of you because many of you've been wanting to know what goes on in my notebooks.

I didn't think I was going to write a blog for a while, but this peace from my screenplay seems relevant and humorous enough to qualify, and something I'd post.

The following is the monologue for the mandatory sports movie montage discussing my feeling on Peoria wrestling. Inspired by the events in my career at the end of 2005.

Oh one more thing before I leave you to it. Friends, you know I can work, just fucking book me. Do or die is what I'm best at, so I know I won't fuck up.

It would surprise me if we are not all bored with the Peoria wrestling scene. Hold on a second. I am the Student of the Game. You fans are not really there for the wrestling, you are there to just hang out and watch your friends do stupid shit.

And it hardly seems that you are putting the effort into that, if one studies the storylines. Desperate to get butts in the seats (an ass every six inches for those who know the business beyond Peoria and cable), the blokes who will go and have a fag with you (cigarette or Dennis) are the centers of attention. Regardless of how much time and effort they have put into the business.

Individuals like me, who have gone all over the Midwest to learn from the best. Are you telling me that I'm not as talented as the Black Dragon, Dennis, or Stumpy? No, the promoter is telling me that because I do my job instead of constantly kissing your asses.

Or he is telling me that because I don't treat the jail bate right, or I that I don't abandon a match's science because you fuckers need a laugh. Sorry that your bug lights are useless in these Illinois winters.

Let's see, what other reasons that I get to be partake in matches where Sinnister dresses up like Rick James and someone has to be the victim of, "What did the five fingers say to the face?" My talent is irrelevant because I have a gimmick. Let me tell you my talent is there, but it does not call for constant high spots.

So I am not a Johnny Knoxville or Steve O, and that's fine with me. If you idiots cannot afford cable, you shouldn't be allowed to see someone dive into a wall.

For weeks I have been waiting for someone to prove me wrong, but the promoter does not want to recognize he cannot. With this down time I've been on the road each week watching better shows, buying tapes, and talking with the best. Peoria, when I return, I will be stronger than I've ever been, and all your Pekin Project heroes will not be ready for the lesson I'll teach them.

Sorry, sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to go on such a cold rant. I know there are a few wrestling fans that come to NGW not only because they are supporting their friends like they did during their days of school plays.

Hell, you might actually be coming to shows because you like wrestling. That makes you the best fans. Because of that I want to be your friend. With today's gas prices, who wants to support good wrestling may it be in Chicago, the Quad Cities, or Missouri, need to ban together to be the best we can be.

Join Russ's Reserves, at least for one weekend a month.