Failed Pilot

John Carpenter’s The Thing (1982) – Two hours of screaming beards!!!

Me and You and Everyone We Know (2005, feels like 1994) – People, people, people, people…PEOPLE!!! If you found this film even remotely satisfying, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE do not start a conversation with me. We have nothing to talk about. Or, you can postpone that inevitability by not bringing up this movie. The ferociously untalented Miranda July has secured a pole position in a new film genre of my coining: ReadyMade Magazine: The Movie (1). Throw in Thumbsucker (quaint), Thirteen Conversations About One Thing (Shamespoitation-lite), I Heart Huckabees (quirky), Lovely and Amazing (more Shamesploitation-lite) as a cross section of heel-nibblers to this infuriating piece of calculable garbage. A wholly disparate movie from Napoleon Dynamite, but the two share one disturbing quality: Both are wide-angle barfings of exactly what boring, unimaginative ninnies do with surface pop culture, surface hipster culture, and safe (and in MYEWK’s case, “edgy”) humor. In a sense, the films unconsciously hate their audiences. Don’t consider yourself special or a “film person” if these films fail to insult you. I suspect that July has injected a little or a lot of her actual personality into the starring role, a character that neatly amalgamates every irritating female quality I’ve ever known. MYEWK’s only service is providing a new distaste for ex-girlfriends that should have been forgotten about anyway. Wow, she really sticks it to the art community!! She even delves into science fiction with the idea that two high school girls might court a threesome with a slovenly thirty-something pervert!! Her versatility!!

Dirty (2006) – Uproarious Training Day knock-off that tries to Denzelize Cuba with a sizable helping of Keitel’s “The Lieutenant.” Wildly unconvincing as the consummate dirtbag cop, he hobbles around for the entire scond half of the film WITH A GUNSHOT WOUND TO THE LEG!!

Basic Instinct 2 (2006) – The R-Rated soft-porn trailer is making the web rounds, but I stress, YOU MUST SEE THE CLEAN VERSION!! Watch it here. What about that censoring block, huh? WHAT ABOUT THAT?!?!?!

This concludes an “ALL-CAPS” day.

1. In tribute to a magazine that I might read while waiting in line somewhere, “Readymade Magazine: The Movie” represents a loose film interpretation of what the publication FEELS LIKE. Modeled by aging, “basic”-clad graphic designers, bartenders, social workers, and children’s museum event coordinators, Readymade’s tagline should be “Since the two of you no longer have meaningful conversation, here’s a lot of time-consuming crap to make.”

For albums unassociated with a deadline, I’m trying to make a little something happen between the PO BOX and the box that goes to the record store. You can thank me later.

MCLUSKY
McLuskyism 3 CD set
Too Pure
I need to catch a case of McLuskyism! Holy Hot Garbage!! I miss out on everything!!

THE BLACK HEART PROCESSION
The Spell
Touch and Go
I’ll never hear this record…but it’s great!! A career definer!! Consider me incapacitated under this spell!!

DESTROYER
Destroyer’s Rubies
Merge Records
It’s really been a slice getting to know this one. The lotion on Bertie Higgins’ sunburned shoulders!

PRETTY GIRLS MAKE GRAVES
Elan Vital
Matador Records
Not as “vital” as the Firefall record of similar titling, but many of these tracks match the Fiestaware-Against-The-Wall feel of Rick Roberts’ “Strange Way.”

ARAB STRAP
The Last Romance
Transdreamer Records
This guy likes to throw down!! Sign me up for a “major rager” with Mr. Moffett!!

Realizing, naturally, that snitches are subject to violent retribution in more “real” (therefore terrifying) parts of the city, I wanted to cozy up to the sentiment. I wanted to cozy up to the sentiment whilst “offsite,” if you will. Unofficially deemed “The Party Doctor” by some, I enjoy infiltrating hospitals and impersonating actual doctors. Wait, that’s trivializing my worth. I bring laughter. I wear scrubs printed with palm trees. I sneak cigarettes to the patients, and sometimes partake myself. I carry a medical bag stuffed with goodies for the ailing. In my bag right now are moderately worn paperback copies of M*A*S*H Goes to Maine, M*A*S*H Goes to London, and M*A*S*H Goes to Miami, VHS copies of Disorderlies, Young Doctors in Love, Stitches, and an eBay-won bootleg tape containing every episode of afterM*A*S*H. You know Eddie Albert’s character in Stitches, the stodgy Dean Bradley? I have to deal with that type every single day. Hospital administrator or mouthy upstart, they all feel the same…like someone following me around with a sharp stick. The other day, I tried to perform surgery with a pair of BBQ tongs. I have no idea how the guy turned out. By the time the “real” surgeon was notified, I was swiftly descending a stairwell with one foot stuck in a mop bucket. My assistant, Nurse Gazongous, was outside behind the wheel of my idling 1995 Chrysler Lebaron Turbo Hardtop. My mantra is “Malpractice Made Perfect,” with “Inverted Nipples: WHAT’S THE POINT, MOTHER NATURE?!?!?!? NOT A FAN OF YOUR GENRE!!!!!” coming in a close second. Ah…I simply wanted to present some introductory info. The matter at hand, the gnawing dilemma of The Snitch, that’s what’s really bothering me. Temporarily. The Party Doctor deals.
See, there was this young, diligent, over-achieving ass-casserole (doctor) that decided it healthy to sweat me hard at the last hospital (name withheld). Slick (real name unknown) kept getting in my face with hollow threats. “I know what you’re up to!!! You can’t get away with this!!!! I’m going to bring you down!!” he’d snivel. Soon after this encounter, the young professional was made eligible for the Severed Brake Line Research Grant, thus transferring him to the bottom of a frozen lake. The Party Doctor deals. I must run, literally, I’m in an alley, hiding in a dumpster, and it’s hell on my perm. One downside: I am accepting applications for a new assistant. The once-faithful Nurse Gazongous could no longer handle the pressure. No Skank Williams Jr.’s, please.