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 A Place For All The Other Shit... This editorial space could be used for anything. Insights, poetry, something to lift the heart. I can tell you, it probably won’t be. Let me tell you about some things I hate.
"The Last 100 Years of U.S. Military Involvement In Terms of the Alien Franchise" posted 07/31/06: Here’s a little history lesson, Tomb of Anubis style. I realized the other day that the last 100 hears of major U.S. military history could be told in comparison to the Alien series. We’ll start with World War I.
World War I / Alien
Before Alien, science fiction was an exciting, fantastical setting for some of the greatest adventure stories ever told, but it nearly always had a sheen of optimism. Even with great villains like Darth Vader and Ming the Merciless, the hero always won the day and saved the galaxy. Alien brought a gritty, realistic view of existence into mainstream science fiction that had never been seen before. The cynical treatment of giant corporations and a military hungry for the perfect bio-weapon (a cliché now, but it started here, folks) told of a future where all is not peaceful and well, and is, in fact, just as crappy as the present we live in. The chestburster scene alone would ruin spaghetti for hundreds of moviegoers. But as great an impact as it made, Alien would become secondary to the general public once its sequel arrived. Before the Great War, battle was seen as exciting, noble, honorable; something to make a hero of even the least man. When the call to arms came, young men lined up, eager to go off to war, thinking they would return victorious, covered in medals and women. After years of seeing their friends and brothers gunned down, run over by tanks, melted by mustard gas, and left to rot on the fields of the first major technological battle in modern warfare, an entire generation was broken of their idealized vision of gentlemanly battle. War was no longer an adventure, but a horror of the greatest magnitude. Unfortunately, the teaching and knowledge of the history of WWI would be overshadowed by its sequel.
World War II / Aliens
Aliens wowed audiences as the bigger, explodier, more exciting sequel to one of the greatest horror movies ever made. More aliens, more guns, battle-hardened space marines ready for anything…except what awaited them on the little terraforming colony that had been overrun by monstrous creatures from another world. Aliens takes the same monsters of the first film, multiplies them a hundredfold, adds a new and more terrifying foe in the queen alien, and in the end, the heroic space marines have to take off and nuke the site from orbit. It is, after all, the only way to be sure. And then there’s that most memorable of cinematic moments, the power loader scene. World War II wowed the world as the bigger, explodier, more exciting sequel to the greatest war ever fought. More Nazis, bigger guns, and battle-hardened military forces better prepared to face the horrors of modern warfare technology. World War II takes the same monsters from the first World War, adds some new adversaries in the Axis, and in the end, the heroic Allies have to take off and nuke the site from orbit. It is, after all, the only way to be sure. And then there’s that most memorable of war horrors, the Holocaust. Even without the nuclear ending, WWII will forever overshadow WWI because of the Holocaust. WWI has no single even more memorable than that, and Alien has no single moment more memorable than Ripley facing down the queen alien in that brilliantly designed bipedal forklift. The Holocaust is WWII’s power loader scene.
Korean War / Original Alien vs. Predator plans
There’s very little to say about either the Korean War or the original spec script and production plans for Alien vs. Predator. Nobody except the people directly involved really remember much of anything about them. AvP withered on the vine due to budget constraints. The Korean War faded into obscurity because nothing really happened. Now, I know what you’re thinking. “But Ragnarok,” you say. “M.A.S.H. took place during the Korean war, and that’s a much beloved movie and TV show!” And you’re right, it is. But I bet you anything nine out of ten people you ask on the street will tell you they think it takes place during Viet Nam. And speaking of which…
Viet Nam / Alien 3
By the time Alien hit theaters, people knew what to expect. People’s chests exploding, acid blood, secondary jaws punching holes in people’s skulls. General good times had by all. But something soured the mix for both Alien 3 and its modern wartime equivalent, the Viet Nam War. What was that something? Too much administrative involvement. Although I love Alien 3 almost as much as the first two (especially the extended cut on the Alien Quadrilogy box set), that view is not widely held, and Viet Nam is pretty much universally regarded as a huge fucking mistake. Because it was. Complaints about both war and flick are similar: it was too long, there were too many casualties (on the battlefield and on the cutting room floor and in the script doctoring department), the executives were too heavily involved, and in the end, nothing was really solved.
Gulf War / Alien Resurrection
It had been years since Alien 3 made audiences groan with its dark, gritty, too-long presence. Interest had been renewed. When it was announced that there would be another movie in the franchise, that Ripley was coming back, and that there would be multiple aliens again, as well as the queen and a new creature, excitement returned (at least until we found out what the retarded-looking new creature was). But the movie was breezy, fun, and a pleasant popcorn-muncher of a distraction from whatever else was going on at the time. It had also been long enough since Viet Nam that people seemed okay with going back to war (until we all realized that it was just so already rich people could get richer on oil profits). The Gulf War was relatively breezy and quick as wars go, and was a decent distraction from whatever else was going on at the time (which would be Bush Mark 1 and his cronies doing whatever it is that asshole Republicans do behind closed doors, probably circle-jerking onto $1,000 bills and making the loser eat them).
Operation Iraqi Republican $ Factory / Alien vs. Predator
There isn’t much to say about these things that hasn’t been said already. Everyone knew they were being done for all the wrong reasons and were going to suck. Guess what? They both fucking suck.
The Future
Who knows what the future holds? Well, we can make some pretty good guesses. Some time ago it was announced that Paul W.S. “Always Thinking Of New Ways To Make People Hate Me And My Shitty Movies” Anderson was going to write and direct Alien 5. Alien vs. Predator 2 is already in production for a 2007 release. Michael “Always Thinking Of New Ways To Make People Hate Me And My Shitty Movies More Than Paul W.S. Anderson And His Shitty Movies” Bay is going to ruin Transformers (not really relevant to the topic at hand, but I wanted to squeeze my displeasure about it in somewhere) next summer. We’re on the brink of going to war with North Korea, Iran, and probably a handful of other tiny countries that we’ve never cared about or even heard of before now. Or who knows, maybe we’ll just attack China or Mexico or something. Either way, the future looks pretty fucking bleak, my droogies. Stay tuned, and watch the skies.
"Someone Please Fuck Michael Bay In Both Eye Sockets And Then Dump His Corpse In A Wood Chipper" posted 06/11/06: I just want to say, it’s all Fistula’s fault. Him and fucking Ben Harper. All that damn “I can change the world with these two hands” crap has taken a turn for the ugly. As I’m sure you all know from reading Fisty’s editorial page, the re-imagining of Friday the 13th by Michael Bay and that douche bag who directed Darkness suck-ass Falls has been put on indefinite hold. This, in and of itself, would be news to rejoice over. Real grab-a-wench-and-some-mead-and-live-it-up stuff. Unfortunately, what should be good news is instead taking really shitty news and actually making it even shittier. Because they’re not just leaving our beloved genre alone. Oh, no. That’d be too easy. No, instead of just fucking off to make Bad Boys III: Martin Lawrence and Will Smith Need New Cadillacs, they’re dropping F13 to remake The Hitcher. Many of you are probably saying, “Eh, whatever.” To that, I say, “Have you seen The Hitcher? It fucking RULES.” Acceptable losses my huge, hairy balls. You can not top the relentless building tension of The Hitcher (like Michael Bay has ever been able to create any kind of tension in any of his movies, ever). You can not improve upon a movie that is, for all intents and purposes, perfect all ready. And you sure as everfucking hell can not improve on Rutger Hauer. Seriously, I’m warning you, Bay. You leave this alone right the fuck now. There’s already a shitty DTV sequel that no one wanted, and you can be goddamn sure that no one wants a shitty remake, either. Well, by no one, I mean no one with two brain cells to rub together. Every dumbshit teenybopper who sees the trailer on MTV and buys the soundtrack featuring Hoobastank and Fall Out Boy (fucking shudder) will no doubt run right out and see it and send raving text messages to all their friends about how great it is, completely oblivious to the fact that it’s an awful remake of an absolutely fucking brilliant movie, because their stupid cell phones have further deteriorated the already tiny, shriveled, useless turds that were their sorry excuses for brains. So fuck you, Michael Bay, and fuck every last one of you who gives him any money (and therefore approval to continue his career of ruining other people’s good work) by going out to see this abomination before the eye of Odin. Hey, y’know what would be a huge-ass turn on for me? Watching Michael Bay and Jerry Bruckheimer skin each other alive while being slowly dipped into a huge vat of molten steel. If you’ll excuse me, I have an apocalypse to prepare for.
"The Legend of the Metal George Romero Midget" posted 05/03/06: For all those interested in spending an enjoyable evening of Christraping death metal with Krisiun, Behemoth, and Morbid Angel, get thee to a ticketmonger and ask for the Masters of Chaos tour. For those of you who say nay...you're a bunch of pussies. I spent Saturday night with these face-melting forces of metal and had my ass thoroughly blown out. But as awesome as the show was, as much as my bones were shattered and my flesh rended by the blastbeats of hell, the best part of the evening came from the Metal George Romero Midget. All through Krisiun's set, standing right next to me, was a guy of about 60 who looked like what would happen if you stuck George Romero in the Tall Man's Zombie Midget-O-Matic. His arms were raised, his hands formed into claws as if he were reaching up to tear Jesus' scrotum off, and his head banged furiously to the rhythm. Metal George Romero Midget, if you're out there reading this, I just want to say you are the coolest motherfucker in the world. \m/
"Deer Hunting" posted 04/23/06: Today’s topic of hate - houseplants! No, I’m kidding. It’s deer hunting. Specifically the kind where you sit in a tree for six hours covered in deer piss, waiting for the deer to wander by, mistaking you for part of the tree, so you can blow it away from behind. Even more specifically, the people who do this on a regular basis and talk about it afterward like it’s the manliest thing in the world. If you do this, fuck you a whole bunch. You are not impressive because you covered yourself in urine and shot a deer. Shit, you’re not even hunting, are you? You’re deer waiting. Hunting implies you know how to track an animal through the woods and bring it down, not wait for it to not notice you hiding in the bush and then blast it from behind like a Mexican who wants to steal your shoes. Now don’t get me wrong here, I love meat and I hate the hell out of deer. They make me nervous driving at night and I wish they’d go fucking extinct (preferably as a result of me eating all of them - steak, jerky, hotrods, whatever). Deer hunt bragging is one of the more harmless redneck activities, but it irritates the shit out of me. Anyone could do what you just did from that deer stand, Jerky Von Douchenstein. I could do that. Any moron can fire a gun. Once you bring machines into it, it’s not a sport anymore. I can give you bow hunting, as it takes some level of skill to use a bow properly. But if you really want to impress me with your manliness by killing a deer, you have to play on the level of the animals. No technological advancements. You march your bare ass out into those woods with nothing but a knife (or, if you’re a real fucking man, not even that), track the deer stealthily through the forest, run it down, and stab it to death (or again, if you’re a real man, plunge your hands into its chest and throttle the life out of its still-beating heart). Then you may brag about the hunt, and the buck you bagged. And while you’re at it, here’s a fashion tip that might help people think of you as slightly less of a closet-panty-wearing sheep raper, and perhaps help to quiet my desire to stab you in the dick with a rusty screwdriver. WE GET IT! YOU HUNT! QUIT WEARING YOUR HUNTING CAMOFLAGE IN PUBLIC YOU DISEASE-ENCRUSTED ANAL BOIL!
"Late-Changers" posted 03/29/06: Today, it’s late-changers. You all know one. You might even be one. And if you are, please wait while I find a ladder so you can jump up my butt. “What,” you’re saying to yourself, “is he going on about?” I’m going on about people who, once you’ve rung up their purchase of $14.97 that they paid for with a 20 and their receipt is printing, transaction already recorded in the computer, say, “Hang on a minute, I think I might have some change.” Yes, you irritating shitwipe, you do. The change I’m already in the process of counting back to you. Now piss off before I stab you in the temple with a box cutter.
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