I find your lack of humor disturbing

I was looking forward to the Family Guy Star Wars special. I like both Family Guy and Star Wars and one would think the combination would be enjoyable. It was not. How could a combination that had so much potential end up being a boring mess?

I think the main problem was that the parody of Star Wars forced the Family Guy team to follow a plot. This is definitely not their strong suit even when the story is already written for them. It undercuts the only way that they generate laughs-- the complete non-sequitor. Chaining them to an actual plot led them, for the most part, to obvious old jokes (we know that the parsec is a unit of distance not of time but how is it funny pointing that out?) and that and a few groaners (that foul stench isn't Governor Tarkin, it's a "Darth doody"? Really?).

I watched the episode last night and can only come up with about 5 funny lines/scenes (the best of which was probably the "request" of the next song in the cantina scene and the Red team check-in before the Death Star attack). That just isn't enough to sustain a one hour parody. The Start Wars Universe is rife for parody but I think they shackled themselves with the faithful retelling of only episode IV rather than allowing themselves to make fun of the entire mythos.

I would go back and watch it again and write in more detail, but two things are keeping me from doing that: (1) after watching it, I promptly deleted it from my DVR, and (2) even if I hadn't deleted it, I wouldn't want to watch it again.

Robot Chicken did their Star Wars special a few months back and packed more than twice as many laughs in half the amount of time (for all you math wizards out there, that is more than 4 times the laugh density). They were wise enough to do what Family Guy should have done and stayed with the random, disjointed scenes rather than a retelling.

This is Family Guy's most desperate hour. Help them, manatees, You're their only hope.

Hickory has a new winner

Jon Reep took home the title of Last Comic Standing. As one could guess from my previous posts, I didn't really care whether Jon or Lavell won. Even though I don't think either of them really deserved to win, I think that Jon winning was the right choice. At least he was getting stronger as the competition went on whereas Lavell started strong and rapidly faded down the stretch (insert obvious out of shape joke here). I still think Gerry Dee deserved to win but there is really nothing I can do about it.

The one good thing about watching Last Comic Standing and other reality competition finales is it makes me feel like I am speeding up time and getting more accomplished than I really am. I watched the 2 hour finale of LCS in about 25 minutes. My DVR thankfully allowed me to skip the near half and hour of commercials and over an hour of filler (that is inserted to build up the "suspense" of who wins.) They really don't even have to tell you that it is the finale-- people can figure it out from the endless parade of pointless performances, background information, and self-promotion. The producers of reality competitions should follow the wisdom of the immortal words of Monty Python when scheduling their finale: "Get on with it!".

Would they both please sit down?

So tonight Jon Reep and Lavell Crawford battled it out for the Last Comic Standing title. And no matter who wins, it is the wrong person. John Reep has been one of the worst in the finals and should have been sent home a long time ago. Lavell Crawford was impressive in the initial round and the first round of the finals, but since then has been unintelligible and unfunny.

Gerry Dee was by far the best comedian the past three weeks and yet he got voted out. He deserved to win which could be why he was so broken up when he didn't advance. I guess the way to win is to play to the least common denominator, the way the two finalists do.

Neither of the two finalists improved their lots tonight with their time tonight though. They must have gotten together before hand and agreed to not have any punchlines in their set as they both try to out setup each other.

Jon Reep did his whole set on his dad snoring in a storytelling style but has neither the charisma nor the punchlines to pull it off. The set started off with, "So who knows someone who snores really loud?" and I started shaking my head seeing exactly where it was going. Jon Reep's dad snores loudly, he often falls asleep on the couch watching TV and snores intermittently and in amusing ways, he once snored loudly in church and pretended it wasn't him. If you found that last sentence funny then you might have really enjoyed the set.

Lavell counters with another bit about being at the fast food restaurant and bad customer service.. You see Lavell is fat so when the fast food employee asks him if the gigantic 25-piece chicken meal he just ordered is eat in or to go it's supposed to be funny. This is of course ignoring the fact that the employee is just working off a script and would ask me that question if I ordered it (which at least would have the surreal juxtaposition of the enormous meal against my rather low BMI frame). The customer service bit was that the people on line don't speak English that well (but given the accent that Lavell uses to imitate the worker, we must be calling different lines. I usually get a "British" person whereas he gets someone from Nigeria). But at least Lavell thinks he is funny as he was laughing very hard at his jokes throughout.

I think (or at least hope) part of the problem is the horrible way NBC setup the show. They have given the comics the same 5 minutes to perform the whole finals round and tonight was no different. I fail to see why they didn't give the comedians 10 or 15 minutes to show off. That might sounds counterintuitive since I just talked about how I didn't like the sets and yet I am asking for more. I do for two reasons. One is that I am sure that the comedians are used to doing sets that run longer than 5 minutes and as such are out of their comfort zone (they can't do jokes that run too long or are setup by other jokes because they don't have the time). Secondly, the show is supposed to be the big final competition between these two, deserved or not, and so the show should focus on them. I want a larger sample size of their stand-up to decide who should win.

But instead of giving the time to the comedians that America has asked to see more of, NBC decided to pack the show with three outside pointless comedians: Kathleen Madigan was pretty funny (the best of the night bar-none) but Gilbert Gottfried (with a circa 1999 set heavy with Calista Flockhart jokes) and Greg Proops (bad Obama-Clinton political commentary) were awful. What was the point of their performances? Filler. Maybe NBC didn't have confidence in the finalists either.

I may not actually vote in the competition (that way I can still feel superior-- yeah, I watch reality shows, but I don't actually vote... that's just sad) but I reserve the right to complain about it... It is my right as a belligerent fuck.

Superman Returns

Wow. If you've never seen Superman Returns, stop now, run, and make a note to never see that steaming pile of crap ever. And I thought Superman IV was bad.

This film takes itself way too seriously which is hard to do given the subject matter. There is no humor in the movie at all, they went fully for drama but fall flat on their face. Their is inherently no drama in the character of Superman. Instead of focusing on the action and humor side of things they try pathos. Not an easy task given an stoic invincible alien as a main character.

The plot boils down to this: Superman returns from space, Lex Luthor goes to Superman's Fortress of solitude and steals some crystals and knowledge of how to use them, he then steals some kryptonite, throws the kryptonite and crystals into the ocean and builds an kryptonite/crystal island slowly, fails to kill Superman when any moron could have, Superman throws island into space slowly. The End. I just saved you two and a half hours of your life.

Sure other pointless things happen-- albeit very slowly. The only action in the movies, aside from the slow scene of superman throwing the island into space slowly and then slowly falling back to the earth (which strangely results in a large impact crater even though he is only 225 pounds), revolves around plot points invented to fill time and to get Superman to do something. It happens in the same way as in a lot of other sci-fi movies, Armageddon springs to mind, where bad things happen for absolutely no reason (or even worse against logic). A Space Shuttle malfunctions slowly and drags a plane along with it slowly, a robbery happens slowly, the Daily Prophet globe falls slowly: all as a pretext so we can see Superman do something. This is a necessity since during the other over two hours nothing happens: no action, no plot, no character development (you know exactly who everyone is within 10 seconds of their appearance). This all leads to no fun.

You may have noticed the repetition of the word 'slow' in the above paragraphs. This is done on purpose as even when things happen they take in some weird relativistic space-- time slows down for the viewer. That's some good direction there, "Something is happening so lets slow everything down as to suck all excitement out of it. I don't want anything to get in the way of the pathos."

There are too many stupid things in the movie to list out so I will refrain, as you should refrain from watching it.

Look, up in the sky. It's a bird. It's a plane. It's a steaming pile of crap!

n.b. A quick check on IMDb gives the following bit of trivia: "Brandon Routh, Kate Bosworth and Kevin Spacey signed on without having read the script"... that explains a bit of it.

The Third Law

The storm rages around me
lightning streaks the gloomy sky
The hail batters my body
I believe I am to die

Twisters tear my home asunder
whilst lava sets it ablaze
a quake knocks me to my back
its power does scare and amaze

Desperate to save my little life
I think of a cunning scheme
I yell to the storm, "I love you"
and it flees with a frightened scream.

Cover me

"$10. Just to step in the door; to get into a place I know I won't enjoy.

I met my friend and the entrance and we push through the crowd to the back of the bar, after first getting a round, and descend the stairs to bowels of the place, down to the dance level. We are assaulted by the heat as we enter in addition to the music, which is deafening. Walking back to our area in the corner is enough to bring a sheen of sweat. There is nothing else that can reach the ears while the pounding strains of some indistinguishable dance track thunders through the room.

$2 per minutes so far.

We head over to where our group is and sit. We attempt a conversation but it quickly becomes a game of "what tag" and we both give up for a time. Our drinks at least provide something to do: pick up the glass, take a sip, hold the liquid in your mouth and savor the flavor with a pensive look, swallow, and return the glass to the table. Repeat whenever the uncomfortable feeling of doing nothing necessitates some motion.

$1 per minute.

The bodies on the dance floor gyrate in ritual of horniness and youth. The desperation hangs thick in the air and the throbbing bass from the speakers sends the tendril-like fog of it swirling towards the alert predators. You can see them watching from the wings, waiting to strike when they see a weak or wanting prey. A lone woman dancing is alone for but a second before the hounds swarm. An obviously hammered and horny woman has more options than she knows what to do with... or perhaps she is a resourceful one and knows what to do. I laugh but it is consumed by the pounding rhythms and goes unheard.

$.50 per minute.

The DJ, in his booth, looks on smugly, as if he is a man among boys. He controls the crowd, or so he thinks. Instead he is trapped in a booth whilst others grind with the women on the floor. He dictates the sounds from his Apple laptop but misses out on any action. The only person sadder than him is his assistant who bops his head to the beat and stare out of the booth with a very creepy look, like an old man looking a little too long and little too intently on a much too young woman. He at least seems content to dance and leer by himself.

$.25 per minute.

My friend gets dragged up to dance although he obviously doesn't want to. It is the birthday of the girl dragging him up so courtesy dictates he at least half-ass a little dance. He isn't drunk enough to do it wholeheartedly and so it mostly consists of head bobs and the occasional shuffle. His unease at least entertains me a bit and I am thankful that I don't know the birthday girl enough for her to drag me up as well. He, of course, keeps his drink in his hand so that he can periodically stop dancing to take a swig. That reminds me that I still have my drink to pass the time: sip, hold, swallow, repeat.

$.10 per minute.

Finally, a few people from the group leave. They have broken the ice-- it is now acceptable to move on to another place. You never want to be the first to go, but once another has made the move it is open season. My friend and I agree we should find a new place. After a few minutes convincing the birthday girl we climb out of the dungeon and exit the bar into the real world again. The night air feels good, although my ears strain to hear the sounds of the city. Onward to new and better bars.

Just over two hours. So it only cost me about 8 cents per uncomfortable minute."

I was very tempted to go home shortly after I got there. I am, however, glad I did not. Not that any fun was had at that first place. Thankfully, we went to much more low-key Irish bar. A place where conversation is not only possible but expected. We met up with a new group of people which improved things as well.

What I thought was going to be an early night turned into a surreal night full of stories and in-jokes. A night which included, but was not limited to: ridiculous multi pronged biological analogies, Chinese government adaptability, extended pussyfooting, Bactrian Camels, street voyeurism, jumper cables, a hubcap, a steel
bladder, a man blending into a bathroom door, a vibrating couch, a philosophizing waiter, and very (and I do mean very) opaque yogurt.

It was one of the rare times I made a wise decision when faced with the "should I stay or should I go" dilemma, which I have often. This was the first time in a while that I didn't regret my decision shortly afterwards. Perhaps I've had enough experience making the wrong decision that I've learned.