Orson Scott Card's Game

Homophobic Propaganda

In college, I took an English elective called 'Science Fiction.' It was a fun and easy class, though there was lots of reading. We had to read 4 novels and dozens of short stories. Not that I minded. I was always a big reader and Sci-Fi was my second favorite genre. 

One of the books we read was Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card. Like many novels and movies in the genre, it was about a young warrior who had the potential to save Humanity from the aliens who were threatening our existence. And I really enjoyed it. It wasn't until many years later that I learned more about Card and his homophobic agenda. 

Card, a terrified Mormon who in 2008 wrote: "Regardless of law, marriage has only one definition, and any government that attempts to change it is my mortal enemy. I will act to destroy that government and bring it down…," he later went on to become a board member of the anti-equality hate group NOM in 2009. The subsequent anti-gay subtext of his works since Ender's Game suggests that gay men, specifically, are unnatural and deserve whatever pain and suffering they get, often equating us with pederasts.

Ender's Game (whose evil, invading aliens are called 'Buggers' - so subtle) is about to hit the big screen this fall with a cast of very talented people who should have known better. Hugo's Asa Butterfield; True Grit's Hailee Steinfeld; Ben (Gandhi) Kingsley; Abigail Breslan and Han Solo/Indiana Jones himself, Harrison Ford, are all in the film. And they have all tried to defend it by saying we should judge the art, but not the artist. Really? Isn't the point of art to depict the artist's point of view? Throughout my training as a performing artist, it was always stressed that a work of art was meant to depict the artist's true intent, regardless of how the viewer interprets it.

This past May, Salon.com published an article detailing Card's most heinous remarks, while pointing out the homophobia inherent in his works. Recently, Geeks OUT, an LGBT Sci-Fi fan group, has called for a boycott of the film. It doesn't matter to them (or me) that Card has already made millions from the novel and the movie rights. It doesn't matter that the filmmakers and stars are trying to distance the movie from it's source. What matters is pointing out that Card is a viciously antagonistic homophobe who needs a reality check. 

After the recent SCOTUS decision regarding DOMA, Card tried to do some damage control, saying:

 

"Ender’s Game is set more than a century in the future and has nothing to do with political issues that did not exist when the book was written in 1984.

"With the recent Supreme Court ruling, the gay marriage issue becomes moot. The Full Faith and Credit clause of the Constitution will, sooner or later, give legal force in every state to any marriage contract recognized by any other state.

"Now it will be interesting to see whether the victorious proponents of gay marriage will show tolerance toward those who disagreed with them when the issue was still in dispute."

Tolerance? Seriously? F*CK YOU, Orson! F*ck you so hard you bleed! F*ck you so hard you cry for your Mommy! F*ck you so hard that you finally learn what it means to be bullied and hated just for being yourself! Of course, you won't learn that lesson because your hatred, fear and ignorance have been ingrained in you by a cult founded by an illiterate farmer who convinced a bunch of equally ignorant Rubes that he could decipher a previously unknown ancient language which was revealed to him by an angel on 'golden plates' which he could never, ever show to anyone else.

Wow, that was uncharacteristically mean-spirited on my part. But I'm not sorry.

Here's the thing: If you're going to spend the majority of your life hating a group of people just for being who they are (and declaring war on your government for recognizing that group's inherent Human Rights), you have absolutely no business asking for that group to be tolerant of your hatred or the art you create which reflects it.

Despite liking the book and loving the cast of the movie, I will not be seeing Ender's Game, in any way, shape or form. And I encourage you to not see it, as well. And while I would normally post a trailer or video at this point in my rant, I simply cannot bring myself to do anything which might promote this movie. 

Please don't see this movie. Let it die the death it deserves. Let Card know we will not tolerate his intolerance. Skip Ender's Game and hold out for J.J. Abrams' Star Wars movies, instead. Hell, wait for the inevitably awful Avatar sequels. Whatever you do, let Card and his ilk know that they are dinosaurs living in the past, with little-to-no relevance to modern reality. And while I freely admit that most boycotts don't work, this one may actually send a message to the gayest (and most homophobic) industry in the U.S. Come on... You know Brokeback Mountain should have won Best Picture.

More, anon.
Prospero

Sorry - Monsters Are Still Real, Kids.

Faneuil Hall - Boston, Massachusetts.

So... Yesterday, another insane person (or persons) perpetrated another horrific crime against innocent people, this time against those who were attending and/or participating in the Boston Marathon.  I needed a day to process yet another horrific event before I could comment on it. And here's what I think.

The first time I ever went to Boston, I was working for a facility which housed mentally and physically disabled people. It was what I thought I wanted to do with my life right out of school. The 'school' really turned out to be a place where rich people dumped off the children of whom they were ashamed, but that's another story for another time. 

Anyway, a client was going home for the Holidays and I and another 'Houseparent' were asked to accompany him on the short flight to Boston. We flew in in the early morning morning, dropped the client off with his family and had nine hours to explore and play before flying home again. We shopped at Faneuil Hall; we walked all around downtown and ended up in a seafood place because the young lady I was with (i have no memory of her name) wanted chowder. I hate clam chowder and I have no idea what I ate - probably a fried platter. But I liked the city's vibe and wanted to go back.

In college, my friends Terry and Marly and I drove up to visit our friend Brian at his grandparents' once state-of-the-art mid-century home in Amherst. The next day we went into Boston and I am proud to say that my 20-something self did pretty good navigating the insanity that is Boston traffic. There was also an infamous 'research' trip to Salem (we were doing The Crucible and we left on Thursday, the 12th, after Mary called my new job, weeping and saying she was my sister and that Grandmom had died, so I could leave early*) which is very close to Boston. Of course, my dear K has family ties to the area, and I've been there on more than one occasion with her. It's a good town, filled with college students; teachers and professors and businesses of every kind, just like any major city. There are good neighborhoods and bad ones; fun things to do and lame things to do; history, art, theatre; shopping; great bars - Boston has always meant a very good time, every time I've been there.

So please bear with me when I say that I can't imagine the horror, the pain and the suffering inflicted on people who were, up until that moment, also experiencing Boston as a very good time. The fear and confusion must have been so intense. And so much pain (both physical and emotional). Horrible!

And for what? As of this writing, we still don't know who or why. Of course, the why almost doesn't matter. Did 'God' tell someone to do this to advance a political agenda? Or did a dog claiming to be God tell someone to do this so someone will finally acknowledge his pathetic existence? Was a spurned lover out to kill an ex who was running in the marathon or in the crowd? Maybe an angry, disqualified runner from the past wanted to exact his revenge. It doesn't matter.

What matters are the people killed and maimed; people whose lives have been irrevocably and horribly changed. And whether this was the act of an organized group of religious fanatics or of a loner writing a manifesto in a woodshed, it was ultimately an act of madness. When we were children, our parents did their best to convince us that there are no monsters under the bed or in the closet or hiding behind the coats on the coat-rack. "Monsters aren't real," they told us. But they lied. While there may be no green-skinned bogey-men with fangs and claws waiting to rend us to pieces, there are other monsters who never fail to prove their existence. In schools, malls, movie theaters and major sporting events; on trains and in office buildings; in the air and on the the ground; the monsters keep shouting "I am here! I am to be feared! I am a Monster!" 

Here's the thing: Don't fear the monster. He doesn't deserve your fear. Find the monster and punish him, so other monsters may think twice. I know there are far more good people in the world than bad, just as there are more beautiful things than ugly things. There's great art and literature and philanthropists and scientists who are working to sure disease and end suffering. There are dew-covered spiderwebs spilling prismatic rainbows in the morning sun and exotically plumed birds wading in warm swamps; romantic sunsets; sparkling beaches; fields of wildflowers... you get the idea. And we all should be able to take time to revel in the good things about life, without worrying if a bomb is sitting in that trashcan on the corner or if the guy sitting next to me at the AMC24 has gun under his unseasonal coat. 

I'm offering no solutions - that's for smarter folks than I to sort out. Of course, without bad things; without pain and suffering; we wouldn't be able to appreciate joy and pleasure, would we? Be glad for every day you wake up. Stop taking things so seriously. Smile.  Let the monsters know we're on to them and that we have no intention of letting them win.

Call me "Pollyana." Call me a cock-eyed optimist. Call me (gasp!) a Liberal. I really think Lennon and McCartney had it right:

Oh - I also think we really need to overhaul the mental heath care system in this country, ASAP. After Reagan dismantled it in the 80's, it's about time we overhauled and reinstituted comprehensive mental health care for those who may pose a danger to society.

More, anon.
Prospero

*Another trip worthy of it's own post.

Before Laramie

1979

This coming October will mark the 15th anniversary of Matthew Shepard's beating at the hands of two troglodytes in Laramie, Wyoming. But this past December marked the 25th anniversary of the murder of my friend and high school classmate Anthony Milano at the hands of two monsters who have yet to pay for their crimes. 

That's Tony on the far-right of the top row, right next to Uncle P (in the white shirt and over-sized aviators) in a photo from our high school senior year in 1979. The future looked so bright for all of us. 

Tony was quiet and shy but very smart and creative and subversively funny. A talented graphic artist with a skewed sense of humor, we spent three years together (with the rest of the good folks in this photo) in our High School Humanities program, led by a teacher who would go on to be the most celebrated High School Theatre Teacher in the country (and the first adult to tell me it was okay to be gay), Lou Volpe. 

About a year or so after this photo was taken, Tony and I ran into each other in a gay bar in Philadelphia (where we were both too young to be, legally), though neither of us was yet willing to admit even to each other that we were gay. He offered to drive me home to my apartment in Northeast Philly (I had taken the train into Center City) and we parted without saying a word about where we'd met. It was a very different time. 

Over the years since then, we'd meet in various places and situations, never once mentioning that encounter. The last time I saw him, I was working a retail job while trying to establish an acting career. It was early December and I was just too busy to take time out to have a meaningful conversation with him. I promised I would keep in touch and brushed him off, too concerned with whatever it was I was doing to worry about hurting his feelings. A week later, Tony was dead and I was wracked with guilt at having dismissed him.

On December 14th, 1987, Tony stopped for a sandwich and a beer at a local bar, where he ran into Frank Chester and Richard Laird, who goaded him into ostensibly giving them a ride home. Chester and Laird were both relatively attractive men. Did Tony think he was going to have sex with one or both of them? Was he too afraid to refuse their request for a ride? Did they ply him with the promise of more alcohol or drugs? Did they intimate they were willing to have sex with him? We'll never know. What we do know is that they led him to remote, wooded area and murdered him in very cold blood. It's still not clear who did what, though it is certain that one of them held Tony down while the other one slashed his throat with a box-cutter (so brutally that flesh was found in the surrounding trees). They then set his car on fire and left him for dead. Chester and Laird were eventually found guilty and sentenced to death, though both of them remain alive and well in Bucks County Prison, filing appeal after appeal.

I remember attending Tony's viewing and seeing his obviously sedated parents; the undertaker's less-than-successful attempt at hiding the damage to his throat in his surprisingly open casket and the dozens of my weeping classmates. It was surreal, to say the least. Tony's mother never recovered and passed away a few years later. His father, a mild-mannered barber, passed away in 2012. His sister, Annamarie, is the last member of the family to survive. She rarely gives interviews or comments on the events surrounding her brother's death. Chester and Laird are still incarcerated, even though Laird was re-tried in 2007 with the same outcome. 

As a whole, the LGBT community has made great strides in the last 25 years. Just this week saw two  historic Equality issues argued before the Supreme Court. Still, I can't help but wonder what Tony might have accomplished in those years, had his life not been cut short by two ignorant, homophobic creeps. Worse still... There are plenty of ignorant, fearful and violent people who wouldn't hesitate to do the same thing to a naive young gay, lesbian or trans person, given the chance.

As children, we're told there are no such things as monsters. Sadly, as adults, we learn that's just not true. Personally, I am usually against the Death Sentence. In this case, I am happy to make an exception. 

Sorry if this post was a bummer but I think things need to be brought into perspective every now and then. As much as we may want to celebrate the eminent demise of DOMA and Prop 8, I think we need to take a moment to remember all that has led up to it. Hate crimes against LGBTQ people are still reported on a daily basis. So many young LGBTQ people are still rejected by their families, bullied by their peers and ostracized by the churches in which they grew up. Suicide among LGBTQ youth remains at an all-time high. It's up to all of us to stop the madness and embrace the idea that we are all human, no matter who or how we love.

More, anon.
Prospero

Two Very Different Tales of Horror

Jane Levy ("Suburgatory") in The Evil Dead

After five and a half years, regular readers know how much I love Horror Movies and how much I loathe hypocritical homophobes. Yet, they have something very much in common: they're both scary, though in very different ways.

Horror Movies are escapist nonsense, tapping into fear of not just death, but losing control of the circumstances surrounding our lives. Fighting against forces from beyond; escaping and/or killing the homicidal maniac; sending the demon(s) back to hell or beating the devil at his own game allows us a vicarious sense of empowerment. And even when a Horror Movie ends with the villain(s) victorious, we know that when the lights come up in the auditorium at the end we have survived and our own lives are better than the victims of the maniac/demon/ghost/monster that killed all those horny teenagers.

The same can't be said for the hypocritical homophobe. These people are far more insidious than any film monster, gnawing away at the truth like sewer vermin and spewing their own self-loathing in an attempt to feel better about themselves, regardless of the pain and suffering of their targets. Such behavior couldn't be more apparent than what 'Reverand' Joseph Sciambra (who claims to not only be an 'ex-gay' but a former gay 'porn star) has to say in the repellant video (via) posted below (probably NSFW):

Yes, most professional sex-trade workers probably suffer from low self-esteem -- though I personally know of at least one retired adult performer who loved what he did while he was doing it. Still, without the right mindset, porn actors rarely end up as successes in their later lives. But that certainly doesn't mean any one of them gave 'anal birth' to demons. Sciambra (obviously still gay, despite his claims of 'redemption') proves my point with his looney claims. The dangerous notion that one can change sexuality through prayer continues to be one of the leading causes of suicide among young LGBT people who feel guilt at having failed to live up to the ridiculous religious standards set by their families and churches. I can't imagine anything scarier than hating myself just for being who I am.

Personally, I prefer my horror to be gory, gruesome and fictional. I was living in CA when Sam Raimi's The Evil Dead was released in 1981 and my (very liberal) Christian sister called to tell me about the 'scariest movie' she'd ever seen. Of course, I had to go. Imagine my surprise and disappointment at seeing a rather silly, low-budget movie that hardly made any sense at all. It wasn't until Raimi's 1987 satirical sequel that I truly appreciated what he and his brothers were trying to say about the genre. And while I do have a special place in my heart for Army of Darkness, the concept had pretty much been reduced to the equivalent of a Three Stooges haunted house short by the time it was released. Indeed, that was long before "This is my boomstick!" became an internet meme.

Of course, the musical stage version of Evil Dead was nothing short of brilliant and remains on my short list of shows I desperately want to direct:

When it was announced that a reboot was on the way, I joined the haters in denouncing the need for it. But having now seen the red-band trailer for director Fede Alverez's film, I think I have to take back everything I said about it, previously. Given the advances in SFX technology and the support of Raimi and original star (and genre legend) Bruce Campbell, I honestly cannot wait to see the new version of the story. The trailer, in all it's gory glory, is below, though I must caution those who are the least bit squeamish.

I've already scheduled a long-awaited man-date with my friend James, to see the new version. I can't wait!

More, anon.
Prospero

"Mad Max" IRL?

While the world almost certainly isn't coming to an end in two days, it certainly seems as though we're edging closer to it with every passing moment, especially in light of recent events.

There is no denying that man is a violent animal, who all too easily allows the reptilian brain to take over, for all sorts of reasons. Truthfully, people are born monsters. Tiny, squalling, red-faced balls of Id, human babies don't care about anything but their own needs. And that's as it should be. But Homo-sapiens' larger brain eventually allows us to control those urges and to put others' needs ahead of our own (though 'self' is always first and foremost when it comes down to it). We learn compassion and empathy; manners and respect; the difference between right and wrong. We can apply everything we've ever learned about what it means to be a good person as much as we want, but there will always be that lizard in the back of our skulls, ready to pounce at the oddest of provocations. 

"Road Rage" has long been a term here in the U.S. though it has proven to be not just an American problem. We've all seen plenty of those Russian traffic videos. And now it seems that the folks from Oz have caught on, as evidenced by the video I am about to share with you.

Australian Tabloid News program "Today Tonight" (via) brings us this story of of an Australian road rage victim who was terrorized by a madman, but caught the whole thing on video. The next 8 minutes of footage are among the most frightening I've ever seen:

Yikes! So how long do you think it's going to be before that devolves into this:

And don't give me that "Violent movies and TV shows are to blame" BS! They make violent movies and TV shows because it's what people want to see. We're no better than Romans at the Coliseum. We love carnage and mayhem. Rubbernecking at an accident is far more of a traffic maker than the accident itself. Real-life tragedy is exploited for ratings. Meanwhile, 20 children are gone forever and we're still arguing about gun control and mental health? Of course, we can thank The Great Communicator for closing so many mental hospitals in the 1980's, rather than giving them money for the overhauls most of them so desperately needed, thereby forcing so many mentally ill people onto the streets and denying much-needed care for all those to come after. But I digress...

It's that caveman brain... the one we try to suppress with all our might... the one that sometimes gets off its leash and does inexplicably horrific things. It's the lizard brain that reacts to fear. Fear of death; fear of the unknown; fear of people different from themselves. Fear and hatred are learned. And yes, some fears are good - they keep us alive. Others... well, they make us attack and beat down and kill other people. As much as things seem to get better in so many ways, I see things like this and worry that the lizards aren't going anywhere, soon. I also worry that they seem to be gaining speed. I just hope I'm not around to see it all go to hell... because you know it will. If you're reading this in the future, I'm sorry. Some of us tried to fix it...

BTW - If I were writing this piece 20 years ago, it would have been Mel in the picture above. He was so hot in those movies (and more than a few others). Of course, that was before I knew he was an anti-Semitic, homophobic, misogynistic douchebag.

As you can tell, my Holiday Spirit is still fighting to get out...

More, anon.
Prospero

A Broken Nation

I had to spend some time looking at funny stuff before I could even entertain writing about the events of this morning. It's beyond the pale... incomprehensible; ghastly; horrific; senseless... the list goes on but there truly is no one word to describe the grief, pain and suffering in a town that might as well be Bedford Falls. 

Newtown is in southwestern Connecticut, just northeast of Dansbury. Filled with Colonial estates and modern McMansions, Newtown is the epitome of the American Dream, much like the place of the same name where I spend my days. It's not the kind of place where really bad things happen. At least not outside of closed doors. It might as well be called Pleasantville. Until today.

Today a monster killed 20 children and 6 adults, including his mother and himself. I'm calling this obviously insane person "No," because rather than becoming famous for the atrocities he committed this morning, his name should be stricken from the record. What worse fate can anyone suffer than to have any and all acknowledgement of one's existence erased forever? The cold-blooded son-of-a-bitch mowed down 20 children with an automatic weapon. Somehow, No slipped through the cracks of the mental health system and got himself some guns (legally purchased under his mother's license) and finally broke. As if of this writing, no one knows why No did what he did. Matricide is the act of a particularly disturbed individual to begin with. No shot his mother in the face, an exceptionally personal and brutal way to kill. No then went the place of his mother's employment and... well, did what he did.

I know I talked about the discussion my friend James and I had about guns after this summer's shooting in Colorado. That discussion continued among James and several other of my friends on Facebook toady in response to my original post:

"I can't imagine the grief and horror going on in CT right now. I wonder how the NRA lobbyists are going to spin this one? My heart goes out to the victims and their families... so tragic." 26 comments later, my 'Final final word' was: "Go tell the people you love that you love them. There is no warranty on life."

Here's the thing: No one wants to take away guns from responsible hunters and target shooters. No one wants to take pistols away from properly trained homeowners who want to protect themselves. What we want is for it to be harder for people like No to own guns. What we want is for it to be harder for gang kids to get guns. What we want is the chance for a 6 year old to grow up and live to his or her full potential. What we want is to be able to go to the mall or the movies or a political fundraiser without of fear of being shot. What we want are mental health professionals who will speak up when they feel a client may be dangerous. In 2011, 8 people were killed with guns in Great Britain. 10,728 were killed with guns in the U.S. Despite the difference in populations, those numbers are terrifying.

Of course, today's events aren't the only thing that prove our nation is broken. We're still fighting two costly wars; the economy is just coming back, though the much talked-about "fiscal cliff" could drive us back into recession. The extreme right continues to fight progress every step of the way, despite recent election results. The Tea Party may well be the worst thing to happen to American Democracy since the Civil War. Racism and homophobia continue to thrive in what is supposed to be the most advanced nation in the world. Corporations are legally recognized as 'people.' Does that mean if there's a hostile takeover, the aggressor can be charged with murder? Doubt that.

Speaking of the recent elections, I don't remember a more divisive Presidential race in my lifetime. Or an uglier one. Of course, several good things other than the re-election of President Obama happened in November. Four states approved Marriage Equality by voter majority and two states legalized recreational marijuana for personal use. Mr. Obama has said he has "bigger fish to fry" than pursuing antiquated laws left over from the Nixon administration. Too bad that greedy corporate goons drove Hostess out of business. Stoners in Colorado and Washington better learn to like Little Debbie and Tastykake (if they can get them). Oh, did I mention that one of the SCOTUS judges (whose son used to 'minister' to an "Ex-Gay" organization) openly flaunted his homophobia today? And just in case you forgot, Snooki made more money last week than you made all year. Donald Trump pays more for the stylist that does his ridiculous comb-over than you spend on groceries for a week (of course, that stylist may well be responsible for Mr. Trump's obvious brain damage). So many things broken...

How do we repair what's broken? I'm not sure. I have hope, though. I try to take solace in the fact that there truly are FAR more many good people in the world, than bad. Here's a video to prove it:

You should be good because it's the right thing to do, not because someone threatened you with eternal damnation if you didn't. Fear should never be anyone's motivation to do what's right. So, at the risk of repeating myself: Go tell the people you love that you love them, as often as possible. There are no warranties for our often surprisingly fragile lives.

You should also learn to take joy in your life and laugh as often as possible. I couldn't end such a dour downer of a post end on a such a somber note so please enjoy a bit of nonsense:

More, anon.

Prospero

More, anon.

Prospero

Too Many Titles!!

Fine Middle-Aged Cannibals?

I couldn't decide what to call this post. I didn't want to go the Sweeney Todd route, though I'll certainly be talking about that in a moment (though I doubt either of these people were breaking out into clever, darkly humored song). I almost did "The Brazilian Empenada Massacre;" "Waiter, There's a Tooth in My Empenada;" "Wrong Turn 7: Carnivale" (think about that one a sec...); "Honey, I Cooked the Nannies..." Then I thought about how awful a story it really is. And went right back to thinking up horrible jokes to make about it. Because... well, more on that in a moment. Let's see what I'm going on about, first.

The Mirror is reporting that in Brazil, Jorge Silveira (50), wife Isobel (51) and mistress Bruna da Silva (25) lured women to their home to work as nannies. The women were killed and cooked into empenadas which were eaten by the trio and sold to folks in the hood.

As Mrs. Lovett might say, "Times is hard..." That's Jorge and Isobel in the photo. I guess they don't have Clairol in Brazil. Of course eating human flesh - no matter how mouth-wateringly delicious it may seem - is a depraved act in modern society. And they weren't all TCM about it. They did it... are you ready? Really, really ready? They did it for their religion. The couple reportedly belong to a cult which exhorts ritualistic cannibalism as a "purification ritual." Once again, religion proves to be the completely sane and sensible route to take... NOT! And I make horrible jokes about it because if I didn't laugh, I'd lose my mind over how awful people can be to one another, especially under the influence of religion.

Many years ago, I had just started a new retail job and was making new friends; figuring out what clique I was going to be in (and boy, was I), etc. News broke in Philadelphia about a woman escaping the basement dungeon of serial kidnapper/rapist/murderer Gary Heidnik. The reports in those first few days were horror upon horror and it all became to awful and people started making sick jokes, as they do. We were in the store's basement, stocking the Toy department before the grand opening and I several other department managers had gotten friendly and we start in with the Heidnik jokes. The ones that laughed were in the clique. Not because we were the "mean girls," but because we dealt with the horror through humor. A very sweet current co-worker and Facebook friend called me out on my dark streak by finally recognizing Krampus as my profile picture, because of her heritage. "A lot of your posts and pictures are dark and weird and I have no frame of reference for them," she wrote. I completely understand. 

And speaking of humor, horror and cannibalism, my favorite musical role of my varied stage career is undoubtedly Sweeney in Sondheim's darkly humored operetta Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street. One of the few shows my mother saw and said "I forgot it was you." Of course this story echoes the plot of Sweeney Todd, or at least some of it. Murder and human pies for sale. Hell, there's even a mistress the wife lets play. It doesn't get much more salacious than that. Or funnier. Here's my favorite number from Sweeney Todd (and the one I learned first):

Here are a few other references I refrained from making:




This next one may be NSFW



That has be the strangest soundtrack for a horror movie, ever...



A strange, strange film...



One of my favorite oddball indie comedies, ever...

Okay... I'm done. I promise. Except, I think I want a meat-lover's pizza, now.

More, anon.
Prospero

The Impossible

I can't begin to imagine the horrors suffered by the people who both died and survived the 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami. I remember feeling hopeless and helpless as I watched video of tourists and natives in Indonesia being swept away in one of the worst natural disasters in recorded history. Over 220,000 lives were lost in Indonesia; Sri Lanka; India; Thailand and the surrounding island nations. Among many others, openly gay American Interior Designer Nate Berkus lost his life partner, Fernando Bengoechea in Sri Lanka during the event.

Screenwriter Sergio G. Sanchez and director Juan Antonio Bayona (both best known for the excellent 2007 Spanish-language horror film The Orphanage), have collaborated again to tell the story of one family affected by the tsunami in the upcoming film The Impossible.

I first saw the trailer I am about to share the day before yesterday and found myself weeping almost uncontrollably within the first few minutes. Ewan McGregor (I Love You, Philip Morris; Moulin Rouge); Naomi Watts (Mulholland Dr.; King Kong) and Geraldine Chaplin star in this true account of one family caught up in a truly horrific event.

Director Clint Eastwood briefly visited this theme with his 2010 supernatural drama Hereafter and the tsunami scene in that film was devastating. 

Watching the trailer for The Impossible a second time still has me sobbing like child. I don't know what seeing the actual film will do to me, but I know that I MUST see it. The Impossible is scheduled for release in the U.S. in December. Watch both of those clips in Full Screen for the fullest effect, though I can't promise you won't be profoundly affected by them. I was and am.

More, anon.
Prospero

Don't Live in Fear

The Century 16 in Aurora, CO

A movie theater is a place where you are supposed to be able to escape the horrors of real life for a couple of hours. The lights dim, you sit back and (hopefully) enjoy 90 or more minutes of escapism, far from the madding crowd...

But early this morning, at 2:39 AM Eastern Time, a madman (identified as James Holmes, a former med student, originally from San Diego) opened fire on a Colorado audience who were enjoying the midnight premier of The Dark Knight Rises, the final installment of Christopher Nolan's Batman trilogy. Holmes was quickly apprehended and reportedly told police "I'm the Joker." When police went to Holmes' apartment, they found it booby-trapped with "incendiary devices." As of this writing, a motive for Holmes' actions has yet to established (or at least, announced). Neighbors describe Holmes as "a loner."

I already have tickets to see TDKR for tomorrow night, along with D; K; Q and Dale. We're seeing it at an AMC, which has announced that they have instituted a new policy prohibiting costumes, masks and replica weapons. Personally, I'm not scared. Just as I wasn't scared to go to McDonald's after the 1984 incident in San Ysidro or enter a high school after the 1999 shooting spree at Columbine. Nor did I stop attending public events after Senator Gabrielle Giffords was gunned down in 2011.

Yes, these were all horrible, terrible, evil events. But I can't allow the actions of a few lunatics to stop me from living my life. Terrible, random things happen all the time. Auto accidents; earthquakes; tsunamis; tornadoes; hurricanes; floods; wildfires; lightning strikes; falling trees; terrorists flying airliners... the list goes on and on. And yes, they are all awful and tragic and very sad. But that's just life. Now, I don't want you to think that Uncle P is a callous bastard who doesn't empathize with the victims of such tragedies. Quite the opposite, in fact. My heart is broken every time I hear about something like this. So many futures cut short; so many families torn apart; so many loved ones lost.

But we can't live our lives in fear. Hell, if I worried about everything that could kill me, I might never leave my house. And what good does that do anyone? I could fall down the stairs or slip in the shower or get electrocuted by a faulty lamp. Broken toes or arrests for public lewdness only serve to prove that we are alive. Face it - the worst thing that is ever going to happen to you is going to happen, no matter what. Whether it's at the hands of lunatic or while asleep in our own beds, there is no escaping the inevitable.

Keep going to the movies. Keep riding roller coasters. Keep sky-diving. Truly live your life as though today is the last, because it very well may be. But never stop planning for the future. A life lived in fear is no life at all.

I'll post my review of The Dark Knight Rises as soon as I get home tomorrow night.

More, anon.
Prospero

Why It's NOT the Zombie Apocalypse

The Zombie Apocalypse?

There has been lots of disturbing news (mostly out of Florida) lately about 'zombies' and cannibalism in real life. Most horrific and sensational, is the story of the young man in Miami who attacked and ate 75% of the face of a homeless man. Rudy Eugene, 31, was most likely under the influence of a drug commonly called "bath salts" on the streets when he attacked Ronald Poppo, a homeless man last week, resulting in sensationalist headlines about a "Zombie Attack." As of now, Poppo remains in critical condition in a Miami hospital. It took six rounds to take Eugene down, after he growled at the officer who ordered him to stop the attack. The attack coincides with recent reports of chemical or other-wise toxic vapors in various Florida schools.

Then there is 21 year-old Alexander Kinyua, a Morgan State University student who is accused of eating the brain and heart of his roommate, 37 year-old Kujoe Bonsafo Agyei-Kodie in Maryland. And let's not forget our neighbors to the north. Canadian authorities are on the hunt for one Luca Rocco Magnottta, a gay porn actor who apparently brutally murdered and dismembered his lover, mailing the man's body parts to various Canadian locations. Magnotta supposedly recorded the murder and posted it on YouTube, along with videos of him killing kittens.

All of these crimes have one thing in common: They are the result of defective mentalities. They have nothing to do with reanimated corpses, Voodoo, viral infections or bad gas station hamburgers. The people who perpetrated these crimes were either insane or under the influence of some seriously bad news drugs. 

How do I know this? Simple: ZOMBIES ARE NOT REAL. They are works of fiction created by screenwriters and novelists in an attempt to make money. Look, I love a good zombie movie as much (if not more) as the next guy. "The Walking Dead" is one of my favorite TV shows ever and George A. Romero is one of my personal icons. Hell, I've written a zombie movie, myself. I even own several zombie toys. But I know that zombies, vampires, werewolves and living mummies don't actually exist. As does every rational person on the planet.

Here's the thing: Terrible things happen all the time. Lunatics, despots and dictators commit atrocities, every day. People are murdered in any number of horrific ways, every day. Death and destruction are all around us, every day. It's just a sad fact of life. It just so happened that these particularly sensational and gruesome events took place within a few days of each other and the media, always looking to make money on real-life horrors, took hold of and ran off with them. The best we can do is be glad these things haven't happened (and most likely won't happen) to us and carry on with our lives. The Ed Geins; Jeffrey Dahmers; Rudy Eugenes and Luca Magnottas of the world are in reality (and thankfully) few and far between. There is nothing supernatural about these people. They're just a very sad fact of life who have absolutely nothing to do with this:

Just keep telling yourself, "It's only a movie."

More, anon.
Prospero