Sunday, January 31, 2010

How I Wasted my Weekend

I really can't trust myself. I got about a quarter of the way through The A.B.C Murders, set it down for a bit, and ended up watching movies for the rest of my weekend. Oh well, do what makes you happy right? I'll try to finish this book up sometime this week. So...movies? Okay.

You know what bugs me? The fact that there's very few good werewolf movies out there. It sounds like an awesome concept, but apparently it's hard to pull off because I've seen a ton of awful ones and I can count the good ones on my hand. Bad Moon(1996) is not one of the good ones. It starts off alright, not good exactly, but cheesy fun all the same. There's a couple of annoying rich tourists on vacation in the jungle somewhere, they have sex and are attacked by a werewolf. Where the wolfman of the jungle came from is never explained. The woman is brutally attacked and the man is beat up pretty good till he gets a shotgun and blows the things head off.
This opening is almost completely different in tone from the rest of the movie. After that it turns into a glurgy family film, almost like a lifetime original movie. It's still gory in parts and the effects (other than a really dated CGI morphing scene) are pretty good. But the gore is at odds with the wholesome family feel of the rest of the film. It's like two completely different movies that don't mesh well. It's also stupid and full of plot holes John Goodman could fit through.
And it's not scary. Well, I counted one good scare, right at the end of the movie, it's like they weren't even trying to make it creepy in any way and the last one was an accident. So yeah, this one sucks.

Things I learned from watching this movie:
1. Trailers can magically transport themselves where ever you need them to be.
2. Despite what you think, the power of love cannot cure lycanthropy.
3. Don't leave pictures of your dead wife's mauled body out where people can see it, It's just not a good idea.

1981 was a great year for werewolves. In fact, it's probably the best year for them ever film-wise. There were three good successful lycanthropic flicks that year. First was The Howling. The second was American Werewolf in London. The third is kind of forgotten, and not as good as the first two, but it's still miles ahead of most of the other shitty attempts at werewolf movies.
Wolfen (1981) is sort of a mystery story that doesn't follow any of the werewolf legends that were set up by Kurt Siodmak for The Wolfman in 1941. A rich man, his wife, and their chauffeur, are killed by something while taking a coked up side trip to a park. Not just killed, but brutally mauled. The man's brain is found missing, all of it.
Of course you know it's werewolves, but where do they come from, in New York City of all places? The truth turns out to be kind of underwhelming, but it's quite a ride getting there. The movie is a bit slow, but it has some really creepy moments that make the whole thing worth sitting through. I'm not sure if the run down decayed city sets a large part of the movie was filmed in were real, but they sure look like it. The burnt out church is one of the coolest looking sets I've ever seen and it provides one of the most nightmare inducing images of all the hundreds of horror films I've sat through. Of course, your mileage may vary, but I liked this one a lot.
Some interesting trivia bits: This film is the second of director Michael Wadleigh, and his only non-Woodstock film. After this he would release a few straight to video documentaries about the festival and then pretty much vanish from the film world altogether.
Wadleigh claims that Wolfen isn't a horror movie at all but a political film that was taken from him by the studio and re-edited. It'd be interesting to see his cut of it, or at least a commentary track, which the DVD doesn't have.

Alright, so that was my Saturday. Sunday was Toho day. Well, bargain bin Toho day anyways. I found a double feature of Mothra movies in the bin for five bucks. I can't resist a cheesy Japanese monster movie, especially two for a dirt cheap price. These were...well...goofy. To say the least.
Mosura (1996) was released in the US as Rebirth of Mothra. It and it's sequel, Mosura 2 - Kaitei no daikessen (1997), released in the US as Rebirth of Mothra II, are two films in a Mothra re-boot trilogy. Why the third one hasn't been released in the US, I have no idea. They could have just stuffed in on the first side of the DVD. Why they only released both films in a terrible English dub, I have no idea either. At least they don't look cut at all, except they took the credits out. (Grumble.)
I suppose since these are both aimed at kids, like the Gamera flicks, they figured kids wouldn't care.
So how do I describe watching these? Well, take your average 90s Nickelodeon movies, and put giant fighting monsters in them. The doomy feeling and city destruction of the Godzilla movies is almost completely gone and is replaced by dumb slapstick and ham-fisted environmental messages. They also focus more on the humans, which always pisses me off. Nobody pays for these things to see whiny cardboard actors. We want to see guys in rubber suits beating the crap out of each other! The second movie is much better because we see more monster fighting and because it has a Furby with a penis on it's head who's piss can cure injuries. At the end, the Furby sacrifices itself to save the giant bug, leaving it's kid heroes to regard it with awe. Later they will start a church and worship it as a god. Remember kids, Furby died for your sins.
But anyways, Mothra is interesting, but no Godzilla. A giant moth isn't as cool as a giant fire-breathing lizard. Even if it does have two hot faeries that worship it. I'd say these were worth five bucks, but both were way overlong and too kid-friendly for their own good.
What say you Tiki Bear?

"Your taste in movies sucks and so do you!"
Hey, that's not very nice, I rescued you from the cold outside!
"I'd rather have frozen to death than watched Flesh Gordon Meets the Cosmic Cheerleaders."
You're just bitter because you have no genitals....

And with that, I bid you all a fond adieu. Thanks for reading!

Totally random thing at the end:
I want this song played at my funeral:

Friday, January 29, 2010

Books!

Check this sheet out!:

My aunt sent me a box of paperbacks! I was wondering if maybe a review of them all, one by one, would be interesting.
I'll get on the first one, The A.B.C Murders, tomorrow and post up a review, and you guys can tell me if you want me to do the rest of the books.
Sound cool?

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Sickman

Can you tell I hate my job?

I hate you all
Not one of you would catch me
If I should fall
You wouldn't piss on me
If I were on fire
You bunch of fucking liars
I wish I could quit
I'm sick of all your faces
And all of your shit
This job is killing me is all
My soul is shriveled up
Into a little ball
I need release
Need to be somewhere far away
I need peace
Far away from the likes of you
To do the things again that I used to like to do
But for now
I'll just keep going insane
Tearing out and eating chunks
Of what used to be my brain
I'm sorry I can't be like all you walking dead
So a sickman I will be instead
I may be insane
But at least I'm not a bore
I hate this job enough
That I don't feel like a whore
Someday soon I'll be able to say goodbye
To all you fucking pricks that make me want to die

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Switched Punchlines

I had this idea just now while looking through the past weeks of Family Circus...apologies to Ricky! (Not so much to Keane...)

Edit: Now that I look at it, it's like Kimbo is sad for the snowman while the monstrous Keane children look at it impassively, which makes it funnier, to me anyways.





If you haven't visited Kimbo at Dumm Comics, then you should be there right now instead of reading my stupid crap. What are you waiting for? Go!

Music Video Wednesday

You guys don't mind if I do this do you? Sometimes I feel like it's a blogger cliche to post videos and go "look at the cool shit I found!" as if anyone would be interested. I do believe, however, that music was meant to be shared and since mix tapes (cds) are out of style, I think this is a good way to show off a certain mood or state of mind by picking songs, which I've always liked to do. So, here goes...

Alice in Chains - Angry Chair
I've loved Alice in Chains since I got Dirt on cassette tape from a friend. I'm not too big on their videos though, I like the images the songs put in my head better.

Alice in Chains - Them Bones
"I feel so alone, gonna end up a big old pile of them bones." is one of my favorite song quotes ever.

Velvet Underground - Pale Blue Eyes

I would marry this song if I could, make love to it, and have babies. Amazing musical babies.

How about some surf rock?
Trashmen - Tube City

The Trashmen are kind of unappreciated I think, mostly everyone just knows about Surfin' Bird, which is a great song but they had lots of other great songs too!

The Trashmen - Malaguena


Speaking of unappreciated...

Look at that old man rock out! Dick Dale and surf rock became cool again in the 90s thanks to Pulp Fiction. I wonder where it's at now? What is hip now anyways? I don't listen to pop radio at all if I can avoid it. I'm stuck in the 90s which is pretty much the last time I was really into popular culture. Lady Gaga? What the fuck is that?

Lets end with...
A cartoon!

You can always go to the 1930's Fleischer Studio cartoons for awesome surreal shit.
I really wish animation had stayed this weird and goofy. Damn Disney, making everything bland!

Real stuff up tomorrow!

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Before they invented the air guns to shoot bolts into the skulls of the poor stupid animals, you had to use a sledgehammer. Thats what my daddy did. All day long he'd stand at the end of a ramp, a cow would come down it, and he'd swing his hammer and bash it's head in. He claimed he was really good at it, that he never had to hit one on the head twice. Of course I never knew what my daddy did to keep a roof over my head and food in my stomach until I was much older. All I knew about the slaughterhouse was the smell. When daddy came home at night, he reeked of it. I never forgot that smell because it never left him. Even on the days when he wasn't working and stayed home to look after ma and me, that mix of old blood and dirt was always there. My daddy smelled like death.
When I was thirteen, daddy took me to work with him. I was never sure why, he just said I was going to stay home from school and come see what he did everyday. So I went.
I'll never forget the smell. It was the same stench daddy had on him everyday, but it was overpowering. Outside the rusted metal building there was a steer yard, where the animals milled around, eating, shitting. Not knowing they were going to die very soon.
There were men in the yard that ushered the cows up the ramp, I watched them as we went in. I had been told that daddy killed cows for a living, and I was quite curious as to how he did it. The only thing that was making me sick was the smell.
Inside the building, it was dark except for the windows up high that let in light. Daddy walked me towards a ramp and I watched as he talked with the night shift worker that he was replacing. The man handed him a large hammer and then walked away, out of the building.
The first cow came walking down the ramp and daddy raised the sledgehammer high up in the air, when it got down to the bottom and stood staring at him with those stupid uncomprehending eyes, he brought the brought the hammer down and smashed it's skull in. A man with larger muscles than my daddy (which were very large) pulled the dead animal onto a conveyor belt in the floor and it moved away to a different part of the slaughterhouse, to be cut apart.
As I watched it pull away, another cow was already coming down, ready to have it's head bashed in...
Driving back to the house after the work day was over, I didn't say anything to daddy, and he didn't say anything to me. I wasn't really disturbed by what I had seen. I kind of liked it. I wanted more of it but I was afraid to ask daddy if I could get a job in the slaughterhouse. Daddy didn't like his job at all, but he was good at it. I'd have to find some other way to satisfy my urge to kill....

You'll find the next body in the basement of Kelner Elementary school. I've left some very obvious clues this time, I really do hope you catch me. I'm actually quite sick of killing people, but it's an addiction that's hard to stop. I've been doing it since I was thirteen. But I'm not just going to turn myself in, that would be too easy. I want to at least have some fun stringing you guys along.
Peace and Love,
The Butcher

Ps. The little girl's name was Susan and she had brown hair put up in pigtails. and she screamed for her mommy when I brought the hammer down. The sound of her head smashing open made me jizz. Tell her mommy she owes me some new pants.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Three More Stupid Little Poems

Creativity Counts
I don't want to stab or shoot you
That's been done to death
I want to knock you to the ground
And run a floor buffer over your head

Bored Bored Bored
You talk but I'm not hearing
Your voice is just a drone
I'm thinking about what I'm going to do
In a few hours when I'm home
I'm thinking about exploring space
In a ship that I have stowed
And throwing you out of the airlock
To watch your head explode

Dead Hobo Stew
There's a place downtown that sells dead hobo stew
Not many people know about it
It's just me and you
I'll take you there for lunch someday
You'll really have to come
You get to pick out your own hobo
It's really very fun
You watch as it's killed and cooked on the grill
And you get the best cuts of meat
And you get it's bindle afterwards
It's really very neat
I guess I lied there's no such place
It's just me killing hobos
With a hammer to the face
But I'm running out of room to put the bodies
Would you eat a few of them for me?
Please?