Pikey-o, Pikey-o...Where Fuck You Been Pikey-o?!

So anyway, did I mention I had another kid? I didn't? Really?! Wow…I must’ve really spaced out there. Damn, what was I thinking? I don’t know how I could’ve forgotten that, what with the crying, and screaming, and feeding, and sleepless nights, and hundreds upon hundreds of rotten, awful, filthy, shitty diapers. And that was just me – don’t even get me started on the baby (wocka, wocka). OK, well…here he is, EvilMonkey2.0:

Weird how much he looks like EvilMonkey1.0. And yet not. I realized the other day that he has a striking resemblance to my grandmother. I don’t think my mom liked that idea so much…eh, what’re you gonna do? The kid has one mood – hungry. If he’s awake, he’s hungry. And if he’s hungry, and we’re not feeding him – BABY SMASH!!! Brad had the brilliant idea that we nickname him Ike, so the brothers can be Mike and Ike. Didn't go over so well with Mommy or Grandma. I liked it. But what do I know?

So when were we here in Pikey-verse last? April. Huh…imagine that. Well, to my loyal readers (all three of you)…sorry. I offer my most humble and sincere apologies. I have no excuse except to say…I been fuckin’ busy, yo! Let’s see…covered the whole “baby” thing, right. Then what else, um…oh, I’m buying a house. Yeah…that’s, uhh…that’s been fun. I know Reed’s been down this road, but for those that haven’t – caveat fucking emptor my friends. If the urge ever strikes you to enter the realm of property ownership, my first piece of advice would be…don’t! Don’t do it. It’s so not worth it. But since “it is inevitabur”, my second bit of advice is this: have every…single…solitary…FUCKING piece of information about you, regardless of how trivial or insignificant it may seem, ready and at hand to give to your lender. Fuck it, get blood samples, saliva swabs, stool, urine, semen (or Pap Smears for the ladies?), hell…have your entire fucking genetic code charted out ahead of time. Just on the off chance that your lender comes back and says, “Hey…could we get this from you?!” And they will…oh yes, they will. They aren't loan officers, THEY. ARE. THE. DEVIL!!!

I've come to the conclusion that a significant portion of the American populace is stark fucking mad! You’d have to be to want to subject yourself to this! And there are a lot of fucking home owners out there. So, by that logic – lots and lots of crazy people. Hey, I should fit right in then!

The soundtrack labels really need to lay off the new fucking releases already. Seriously folks – I’m trying to buy a goddamned house here…I don’t need the extra debt. Seriously, I haven’t fucked my wife in about four months (give or take a few weeks) – now I know that technically that has nothing to do with film music. I only bring it up because if I ever have any hope of doing it ever again – you fucking soundtrack labels need to quit putting out shit I want to buy!!! Ahem…anyway, where were we? I hope any of you that missed Varese’s release of Predator a few years ago jumped on the Intrada re-release. If not, tough shit – that thing was apparently gone (all 3000 of ‘em) in less than 21 hours! Same thing just happened with SpaceCamp. I already had that actually. It was released as a limited 1000 edition pressing in Japan about 20 years ago. I picked one up on Ebay about six or seven years ago for oh, I don’t remember - around $175 I think. Don’t look at me like that…I needed it. It was important. Funny part is, I haven’t even opened it. It was still sealed up in its original plastic wrap. So now that I’ve got the Intrada release from Monday, I can finally listen to it!!! Only took a few years – I’m patient.

Don’t get me started on that Spartacus monstrosity of a thing from Varese. I want that one with a passion – but I’m not that crazy. I did pick up Batman, I’ll throw a comment onto Brad’s post about that here eventually. I’m really hoping to get Krull before they’re gone. I have the SuperCollector 2-Disc from the 90’s (and despite what SoundtrackCollector.com says, it’s not a bootleg) – the LaLaLand set is basically the same thing – only it sounds crazy better! Perseverance is currently doing a digital restoration on the extended LP of Ennio Morricone’s Red Sonja. When it does finally come out – I can’t recommend it enough – there are some truly great moments in there. It’s an excellent companion to Conan the Barbarian (much better than Conan the Destroyer, blasphemous as that sounds). If you don’t have Conan…shame on you.

Tadlow produced a complete re-recording of Maurice Jarre’s Lawrence of Arabia. If you’re at all serious about film music, regardless of your thoughts on Jarre (“I like the French, but they can be a little French”), you really need to get this set. It not only has the complete score re-recorded, but a second disc full of suites and cues from a shit load of scores of his that have never been released, like Firefox and Enemy Mine just to name a few. Good Stuff.

I know there’s a lot of shit going on in the world right now that could use some classic Pikey commentary. Frankly, I don’t have the time or energy right now. I've got a giant shitburger of my own to deal with at the moment to get too fired up about oil spills; and illegal immigrants; and repealing constitutional amendments about said immigrants; and the constitutionality of gay marriage in Kahlifohrnja; and where one should and shouldn’t build Mosques that aren’t actually going to be Mosques; and psychotic, right-wing, racist, über-bitches going nuts and revealing their true nature on the airwaves. OK – well I will say it’s about time that freaky bitch was pulled off the radio…it’s only 29 years too late. Now if someone would only do something about that Ann Coulter cunt. Ooh, did I just say that?

Yes…yes I think I did.

What's in a Name? Hey, What's in Those Brownies?!

So anyway, I know I don’t get a lot of posting done these days. But every once in a while something comes my way that just…compels me to just cast it out and see what bites. In this case I direct you to this story. Go ahead, look it over…I’ll wait…

Done?! OK, let’s continue then. With the baby due in July, and having already picked out a relatively traditional, if not really fucking old name for him (Isaac Connor), I can’t help but look at a list like that and be completely and totally dumbfounded! If I were to draw an immediate conclusion, it’s that perhaps it’s not necessarily a good thing to be a wealthy celebrity. Why…?

…Because it makes you FUCKING CRAZY!!!!!

Seriously, are the drugs that much better when you’re rich and famous? Or does Hollywood really exist on a totally different plane of reality?! I don’t know about you, but generally speaking, the end of my intoxication rainbow usually involves an occasional carisoprodol or hydrocodone for a bad-back day. Seriously…that’s it! I’ve never done any hard narcotics (save a little Demerol when I had my knee operated on). I’ve well documented my complete lack of drinking skills much to the shame of my, erm, "esteemed" and "noble" heritage. Seriously, I’m an Irish, German, American Indian – for all intents and purposes, I should be a raging alcoholic! But even if I was a total lush or just constantly smacked off my gourd, I don’t think there are enough drugs or alcohol in the world to make me torture my children with names like that. A few highlights:

Apple Martin: Ok, so this one’s old news – when Gwen Paltrow announced she was naming her kid after fruit, the whole world more or less went “HUH?!”. Don’t get me wrong, I’d still love to plug my pecker into Pepper Potts’ pretty, pink, pixie pooper - but girlfriend seriously gots some wires crossed in her noggin. Anyone else notice that that poor kid’s name is one “I” away from being a faggy, foo-foo-drink cocktail?!

Jermajesty Jackson: Alright, so I really don’t want to get into a discussion about the parental naming habits of members of the black community. But on the other hand, I have to wonder if there is ANYONE in Michael Jackson’s family that isn’t some combination of completely psychotic and mentally retarded. What happened Jermaine – really?

Don’t even get me started on Frank Zappa’s kids – that’s a whole different level of stoned.

Kal-el Cage: Look, I like Star Wars, but I’m never naming any of my kids Yoda, or Chewie, or Han Solo, or Leia, or Darth (...ok, I might consider Darth down the road). Sure Nic, we get it…you likes you some Superman. But…well…DAMN!

Moxie CrimeFighter Jillette/Pilot Inspektor Lee: Sure, Penn and Teller have been one of the premiere Magic/Comedy acts for over 30 years – but at some point, they obviously made Penn’s brain disappear. Problem is, they didn’t make it re-appear. And Jason…I like your movies, generally, but, umm…what the fuck, man?!?! Ok guys, general rule-of-thumb…don’t give your kids names that are occupations…real…or fictional!!!

Tabooger Cortese: Right, so Dan Cortese barely qualifies as a celebrity, I mean let’s face it, he’s about as D-list as you get. But judging from his kid’s name, the only conclusions one can arrive at are that Dan hates children…he especially hates his kid…and he’s angry. Why so angry Dan? Didn’t get that Quick-E Mart opening gig in East Bumfuck Texas did ya?!

So what is it – is celebrity status like some kind of fucked-up fraternity or cult whose initiation ritual includes a big ol’ honkin’ hit off the worlds biggest crack pipe? Who’s to say? Do they get a card and a membership pin? When you become famous, do Angie and Brad show up at your door with a free African kid – which you then promptly proceed to name Maxturbation Steakfry Cosmonaut? Are there beny’s (aside from access to nearly endless supplies of tits, ass, and drugs)? You know, in the unlikely event I ever achieve some level of notoriety, I suppose, if nothing else, I can take some small measure of comfort in knowing that I named most or all of my kids long before it happened. And that if I’m ever accused of being totally bat-shit bonkers fuck crazy, I started out that way – money didn’t do it to me!

Ends and Odds

So anyway, I haven’t posted a helluva lot lately. Owing mostly to the fact that Ze Banc (Sieg Heil!!!) web-blocked my fucking blog!!! Why?! What could possibly be objectionable here in Pikey-space?! Hehehe - Anyway, I’ve already covered that, so let’s move on to other things. I’ve had a couple of smaller things on my mind, so I just thought I’d condense and share them all in one, neat, expletive-laden package.

So…what’s first. Let’s see – oh, caught Green Zone the other night. A few thoughts, firstly, who is this particular movie not for:

1. If you’re favorite source of world news spawns from a place that rhymes with giant, throbbing COCKS, then this movie likely won’t be for you.
2. If you in any way idolize George W. Bush, Dick (Satan) Cheney, Rush Limbaugh, Bill O’Reilly, Glenn Beck, or anyone else of their particular ilk, then this movie likely won’t be for you.
3. If you think the Younited States of Mmerica was totally justified in goin’ over there and whoopin’ Saddamn Insane’s heathen fuck ass…then this movie…likely isn’t for you.

But, if you enjoyed the Bourne movies, and like a fantastic, modern warfare thriller that offers some interesting conjecture into the “what-if’s” of what actually happened when the “war” in Iraq started in 2003 (and you don’t mind a lot of shaky cinematography), then I can’t recommend it enough.

On a similar note – if I may offer a bit of advice to the esteemed Mr. Greengrass, please…for the love of DOG, buy a fucking steady-cam rig for your next movie! I appreciate the stylistic reasoning behind the whole “shaky-cam” thing, but really – this made Ultimatum’s action cinematography look like a trip through an automated car wash.

OK, so what else. Oh yeah…with all due respect to Team America, I think I really have seen everything. No…I still haven’t seen a man swallow his own head (but come on, when will anyone ever actually see that?), but I have seen a jive-talkin’, 70’s bad-ass, blaxploitation muthafucka have a nunchuk fight with Tricky Dick in the Oval Office! “What the…HUH?!?!”, I know you’re asking. Last night the missus and I rented and watched Black Dynamite, a blaxploitation comedy spoof from last year. Outta sight mutha fuckas, outta-fuckin’-sight!

What else?

We have a customer at the bank named Rex Martini.

That’s it. That’s the joke.

You want more…ok, fine. My initial thought upon learning that was something akin to, “Gee…anyone else think that sounds like the name of a forgotten, gay, 60’s playboy/superspy/pornstar?”

I’ve noticed my “readership” hasn’t’ posted their own responses to my last post yet. It’s okay, I don’t mind. Besides, like I already commented on that post, I’m giving everyone a little leeway on that one because, let’s face it, it’s going to take a fair amount of research to actually contribute to the post. I figure the three of you (that sounds a lot more pathetic when I “say it” out loud) are working on it and you’ll have your ideas out in cyberspace eventually.

A couple of CD gem’s as of late – both courtesy of the brilliant mind of the late Mr. Goldsmith. First we have Islands in the Stream from Film Score Monthly. What a gorgeous little score. I can’t presume to know why it was said to be Jerry’s favorite, but I can hazard a few guesses. Then there’s The Spiral Road from VareseSarabande’s “Soundtrack Club”. The score, from 1962, was sandwiched between Lonely Are the Brave, and Freud, and represents what is essentially his first foray into big, dark, sweeping drama. Stylistically, the three scores couldn’t be more different – a testament to what a master even young, 33-year-old Jerry Goldsmith was. Listening to the CD, if you didn’t know it was Jerry in 1962, you’d have a hard time guessing it. Great stuff. Ah crap, I just realized he wrote all three of these monumental scores at the same age as I am now. CRAP! I need to get busy, I really fuckin’ need to get busy!!!

I’m listening to Hans’ Hannibal score as I type this. It’s not having any kind of effect on my thoughts and whatnot, but I can’t help but notice that many of the cues sound like the Evil Stepmother of many of the ideas he would later have for The Ring and Batman Begins. Interesting…

I had to fill out our annual employee survey this morning. The usual bullshit, “Are you motivated to do your best for the bank?”, “Do you believe in the values the bank stands for?”, “Are you ‘customer focused’?”. Gaaaaah! Nonsense. And I know it’s largely ignored anyway – I talk to people from other shifts and other departments, they have the same complaints as I do. Yet, invariably, every year we get the same “Oh, we’re doing GREAT!!!” responses from HR. There was a comment section at the end. I pretty much let them have it in regards to our pay and benefits. I wasn’t rude, fowl, or disrespectful. But I was damned hostile! Eh…whatever, for what it’s worth I suppose. I guess maybe sometimes I let my overdeveloped sense of righteous indignation combined with my complete intolerance of and disgust towards the blissfully ignorant get the better of me.

I suppose I would’ve been less pissed and negative overall if it weren’t for the e-mail from the CEO a couple months ago. It basically told us that we should fight the Obama administration because the new banking laws they were trying to pass were out to destroy the banking industry.

What a crock of shit.

First of all – you guys didn’t take any of the TARP funds, you’re too fucking conservative to have needed them anyway. So these regulations weren’t really aimed at your little bank. Second, the proposed laws are aimed at the BIG banks (you know who you are), the ones that threw money around like it was sea-water. The ones giving billions in bonuses and salary to their executives, and lending thousands to every irresponsible jack-ass Tom, Dick, or Harry that could furnish a picture of themselves. The ones that have done everything in their power to fuck their customers out of every dime they have with their bullshit credit card policies. The ones that had a major fuck impact on the financial shitburger this country is in at the moment. Third, and this is the most important, KEEP YOUR FUCKING POLITICS TO YOUR GODDAMNED SELF! I don’t care what side of the fence you lean towards, an open letter to all of your fucking employees essentially telling them to tell the President of the United States to go fuck himself is unwanted, unnecessary, and completely uncalled for! It’s bad fucking form! Don’t go pushing your ideals on everyone (literally everyone) that works for you. As it so happens, I was doubly pissed because he was pushing his right-wing bullshit agenda on us. Fuck you, you lousy cocksucker…fuck you in your giant, overpaid, conservative ass.

Ok, I feel better now…the bad people in my head are gone.

That Special Something (or: Why Doth The Pikey Hate Us So?)

So anyway, a long time ago in some blog posts far, far away, we set about listing our top 10 (or so) favorite scores and favorite score cues. It was horrible, it was obscene, it was blasphemous, it was downright indecent…and a rather smashing good time I must say. At the time I had an idea for a follow-up, and life...being life and all, just sort of got in the way, and the idea went on a rather extended hibernation. Well, it’s back, and I’ve got some time to kill so I’m going to throw it out for one and all to chime in on. This one’s gonna require some serious thought, and a fair amount of research kids, so buckle up ‘cuz here’s what I’ve got in mind.

List, if you’d be so kind, your top ten (or so…again) favorite moments from your vast knowledge of film-score-dom. That is to say, think of your favorite 5 to 30-ish seconds (maybe a minute) from various cues that just really do it for ya! These are little moments, perhaps contained within your favorite cues – perhaps not, that really get the old stick at attention. OK, so that’s not entirely accurate – these don’t have to all be ginormous boner-fied musical moments. But rather, they’re snippets that have had an extreme emotional resonance with you and stuck with you over all others. Any kind of excess emotional response will do, be it extreme joy, sadness or anything in between. This connection can stem from just simply extraordinary composition or a combination of that aural element and its perfect marriage to the scene from whence it came. It’s your call, although more than likely the music as it aids the film will be a deciding factor…so hop to it. And, since it’s my idea and I’ll likely be branded some kind of wretched, evil, Nazi, sadist fuck bastard for even thinking of it…I’ll go first.

In no particular order:

The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King – Howard Shore – from “The Fellowship Reunited” (6:30 – 7:03 on The Complete Recordings): This scene is, for me, the high point of the entire trilogy, and it all culminates at one beautiful and spectacular moment. Sauron is no more, Aragorn has been crowned King of, well…everything, and as he walks out and greets his subjects, he comes upon his four Hobbit friends. You know the moment – the whole world knows the moment. He sees them, they start to bow, he stops them and says, “My friends…you bow to no one.” And at that moment, what is arguably the most stirring moment in the series (courtesy of the Shire theme as it comes sailing in) happens as the King and everyone within a half-kilometer radius bows down before these four little men. I’ve probably seen it 20 times and I still get misty.

Star Wars: Return of the Jedi – John Williams – from “Sail Barge Assault” (5:25 to End on ’97 Special Ed. Release): Jabba the Hutt is toast, Han’s been rescued, the droids have been sucked out of the sand, and everyone’s ready to get the hell outta this godforsaken sand pit. Cue what is, for me, one of the most awesomely balls-out moments in the entire saga. It climaxes with a triumphant shot of the Millennium Falcon and Luke’s X-Wing breaking orbit and sailing off into the cosmos accompanied by an absolutely boner-inducing brass fanfare. Goddammit I love this part!!!

The Iron Giant – Michael Kamen – from “The Last Giant Piece” (Final :30 on OST): OK, so…the whole cue’s just over a minute anyway. But the last half is just so stupendously glorious! The film has just cut to the Arctic where we start following all the various bits of the Giant as they make they’re way to the beacon on his head. The last chord swells triumphantly as he opens his eyes revealing he’s alive and all will soon be well and a final stinger hits in the orchestra…”THE END”. The whole score was to my ears a (if not the) high point of Kamen’s output, and that last thirty seconds or so is some of the best writing he, or anyone else, has ever put in front of an orchestra.

Signs – James Newton Howard – from “The Hand of Fate, Pt I” (Final :50 of Track, OST): I firmly believe that this score, overall, is about as close to perfect as one could ever hope to achieve. The film climaxes with this scene and it all comes together with this particular moment. Gibson gets the boy outside, and Phoenix has been laying the smack down on the alien guy. He finally gets it over on its back and, from a point-of-view shot, a glass of water topples over on its face, killing it. All to the tune of one of the greatest orchestral climaxes ever put to film.

Stargate – David Arnold – from “The Other Side” (appx. Final :30 of Track, Special Ed.): I still say Stargate is Arnold’s best work. Here, one of my favorite pieces ever comes after the team arrives on the alien world. Daniel Jackson and Col. O’Neil are out in the sand, they turn around and…BLAM! It’s an Egyptian pyramid…on an alien world…accompanied by some of the most glorious, nutsack-rattling orchestra and chorus ever.

Star Trek V: The Final Frontier – Jerry Goldsmith – from “A Busy Man” (3:32 – 3:52, OST): OK, so I’m sure you’re thinking, “Of all the damned Trek films…you pick this one?! REALLY?!?!” Yes, really! There’s this great little moment towards the end of the cue/scene, you have all this heavenly music swirling, Kirk and Co. are on the planet trying to find “God”, everyone on the Enterprise is awestruck (save the ever-vigilant Scotty, who’s trying his damnedest to get shit fixed). Then you cut to a monitoring screen, to which nobody notices that the scanners have picked up a Bird of Prey on an intercept course and cloaking. And behind it, perfectly matched to the rest of the underscore, Jerry’s “Klingon Theme” has the most subtle and wonderful entrance. It’s a rather inspired moment in what is otherwise a giant, coughed-up, hairball of sci-fi.

Braveheart – James Horner – from “Bannockburn” (6:05 – 6:21, OST) – Wallace is dead, the Scottish army is on the field at Bannockburn to accept an English truce…then, they basically just say, “Fuck this shit!” Hamish (Brendan Gleeson) throws down the proverbial gauntlet (by way of chucking Wallace’s sword into the battlefield), and then there’s this tremendous orchestral swell climaxing in one of the most well-placed cymbal crashes ever as Robert the Bruce draws his sword. And there’s that look! He has that awesome look on his face that just says, “I’m gonna stick this thing so far up your ass, your brain will feel the tip!!!” It’s spectacular!

Jurassic Park – John Williams – from “Journey to the Island” (5:05 – 6:15, OST): This is one of those great movie-going moments that I’ll likely remember for the rest of my life. And it’s because of one specific spot. Spielberg did at that moment what no other filmmaker had achieved and that was to make us, the audience, believe that that goddamned computerized dinosaur was real! It worked…that brachiosaur stepped onto screen, and we were all just as awestruck as the people in the film. And it was done, in no small part, thanks to the sweeping majesty of Williams’ Main Theme entering at that precise moment.

Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within – Elliot Goldenthal – from “Adagio and Transfiguration (2:33 – 3:33, OST): I love this score. How can anyone not love this score. The fact that Goldenthal doesn’t have an Oscar for this score is a crime worthy of the Nuremburg trials. You might have noticed a pattern that my favorite bits tend to be from sections that really grab you by the nuts and squeeze…and this is no exception. The final moments of the cue as Alec Baldwin’s “spirit” is carried off into the…wherever…and all is made right with the world are accompanied by this window rattling orchestral swell. And it’s marvelous. And then, we cut to the “spirit” thingy shooting off into the cosmos with this perfect, somber solo trumpet that hits every note perfectly (no pun intended).

Star Trek: First Contact – Jerry Goldsmith – from “First Contact” (3:01 – 3:37, OST): What kind of half-assed, no account Star Wars fan am I that I only have one SW cue on here but two from Star Trek. Eh…whatever. This one actually breaks down into two separate moments for me. The first being that grand statement of the Main Theme as Cochrane let’s go of Lily’s hand so he can go greet their new guests. It’s quite awe inspiring and wondermous. It’s followed shortly thereafter by that amazing climax up to the cymbal crash as the alien throws off his hood, then low and behold…VULCANS!!! FUCKING AWESOME BABY!!! Two teary-eyed, inspirational moments within a minute of each other on the same cue!

Honorable Mentions:

Raiders of the Lost Ark – John Williams – from “The Maproom”: That BIG crescendo as the sun comes up behind Indy and then the talisman fires off into the model…glorious…abso-fuckin-lutely breathtaking moment.

Con Air – Mark Mancina/Trevor Rabin – from “Battle in the Boneyard” (3:34 – 3:56, OST): I love a good, over-zealous, heroic fanfare accompanied by a wailing electric guitar! And this one, as Poe jumps into the thick of the shit, is just fucking spectacular!

The Prince of Egypt – Hans Zimmer – from “Red Sea”: Such a powerful moment, both on film and musically, as the waters of the Red Sea go soaring into the air. You had to know that any composer scoring this scene would’ve pulled out all the stops for this moment, and ol’ Hans did it quite inspirationally.

Feel free to start sending the hate mail and death threats now.

YO!!! CHECK OUT MY JUNK!!!

So, anyway - seems I made another one with a penis. That's right, Evil Monkey 2.0 is...a...BOY!!! I've circled the manly bits for one and all to view. So, everyone say hi to Isaac. Isaac, say hi to Herr Vogler, Timmay, Reed, and anyone else that just happens to occasionally find their way here. It's just the three of them you say, oh...well, ahem, in that case...

By the way, seems the fine folks at the bank have deemed Blogger inappropriate for us poor adult type folks and blocked it. So it seems my posting output will be going down the shitter. Not that I posted a lot anyway, but still...what a bunch of douchesticks. REALLY?!?! MY BLOG...BLOCKED?!?!?! WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

A Gentle Reminder

So anyway, a little something (embedded below - wait for it, just keep reading) came my way, and I couldn't help but ponder the struggles of the Obama administration in its first year. Struggles to keep promises made during his election campaign. Struggles to renew, strengthen, or outright start diplomacy with a world that had lost most, if not all faith, in the United States as a world leader. Struggles to fix internal problems: finance, health care, the "war". Struggles just to save face. And let's be fair for a moment - the President of the United States...the proverbial leader of the free world, is still just a man (and ladies please relax, I mean that in an all-encompassing, species sort of way; not the "the Prezident cain't be havin' no durn vagina" sort of way). He can only come up with ideas, plans, agendas...he can't make them happen. He can only propose policy, he can't dictate it. He can't even be directly involved in the writing of the laws - he can only put his signature to the finished product.

A good portion of the American populace is doing its best to try and forget that the years 2001 to 2008 ever even happened (at least where Washington D.C. is concerned). And then there are those that actually miss the former administration. Those that think we could not and have not ever been worse off than we are right now - I suppose this post really isn't for those people...but I digress. So while I don't want to stir up any bad memories - provoke any hostilities as it were - I thought I'd take a moment to remind every one just how much better things are now, or at least how much better things can be. How much potential this current President and his administration truly has. I want to remind everyone of the good that can come from our leadership if only our legislative branch can stop all of their petty bickering and unite to make a better America for one and all. I just wanted to offer a gentle, subtle reminder that this...

...used to be the most powerful man in the world. This was the face of America. Once several years back on The Daily Show, Jon Stewart had someone from Congress on (can't recall who, I just remember it was a Republican) and tried to be diplomatic by saying Bush wasn't stupid. With it being 2010 and all, looking back I think it's safe to say that yes Jon...Bush was/is/forevermore shall be stupid. It's ok...you can say it now. In fact, I don't think that does it justice. The man was fucking retarded! So I say to you people (left or right) if nothing else - if you really don't like the way things are now, just remember...they can always be worse!


That was an awful lot of work just to share one, stupid picture with everyone...eh?!

Kicking a Dead Horse's Ass

So anyway, Intrada just announced the complete score to the John Wayne drama Hellfighters, composed by Leonard Rosenman. And after listening to the sound samples, combined with recent listenings of Robocop 2 and Star Trek IV, I'm starting to get a clearer picture of why I really don't care for the man's music (or the man for that matter - I'll elaborate further as the post stumbles on). Seeing as how he died almost two years ago, a lambasting of the man and his craft might seem in poor taste, but well...I don't really give a shit. This is what's on my mind at the moment and I'm running with it.

Let's get this out of the way right off the bat - Leonard Rosenman...was a complete and total fucking douchebag. There, I said it. Seriously he was - I can't stand reading anything he ever said because invariably he always comes off as a complete and total pretentious, elitist, snobby, prick! Read any of the countless interviews* he gave in his lifetime and you quickly get a sense that Leonard Rosenman liked nothing more than to talk about the awesomeness and wonderment that was Leonard Rosenman, and how Leonard Rosenman was God's gift to all things music. Other things he enjoyed seemed to be discussing how directors were wrong in their film making choices, and making disparaging remarks about his peers.

This in particular gets on my nerves - for instance, he once made a remark (something to the effect of) that he didn't understand all the hubbub over John Williams, particularly where Star Wars was concerned because he (the great Leonard Rosenman) could out-compose any "tune" Williams could write at anytime. He was also particularly harsh to (what was to him, at the time) the younger, up-and-coming generation of film composers, particularly James Horner and Basil Poledouris saying that they lacked any personal compositional voice or style. Whilst working on Robocop 2, he offered that Poledouris' score for the original was essentially rubbish, and went on to say that it "had no sense of the orchestra, no sense of drama; It was a lousy, dopey score, and just didn't work". I dunno - maybe we were listening to two different scores?! I've noticed that even the harshest of critics of the film usually still found the music to be quite fitting, if not truly brilliant. I guess I'm just not sure what Rosenman was (or wasn't) hearing.

As for his music...well, I really just don't care for most of it. I've been struggling quite a bit to put into words exactly what I think about it. And even now, I think the perfect idea - that one, all-encompassing, cohesive thought that best describes my ire - escapes me. But, fuck it, I'll try anyway. I don't claim to be any sort of aficionado of the man's body of work, but one thing that strikes me, listening to the small sampling that I have heard, is that Rosenman never developed as a composer...stylistically speaking. You find that most composers, over the course of their lifetime, change their approach to writing. Or at the very least they learn to embrace new ideas, styles, and whatnot and incorporate them into their own personal style. Take any sampling of Rosenman, be it The Cobweb from the 50's, Hellfighters from the 60's, The Lord of the Rings or one of the Apes films from the 70's, Star Trek or Robocop 2 from the 80's, and you'll no doubt hear that essentially, they're all the same.

To me, Rosenman's music is...well...a "high-brow" version of the absolute worst Junior High or High School level concert band music you can think of. It's musical string cheese. Everything I've heard of his, regardless of what it was written for, inevitabry (hehe) ends up sounding like it was made for a Danielle Steele movie-of-the-week. As I understand it, Rosenman considered himself a neo-Classicist, and there are brief moments where I suppose I can hear it. But generally, to my ear, his music always comes across as bad melodrama. If his music were personified, I'd see it as one of the nimwits from Monty Python's "Upperclass Twit of the Year" sketch. I'll admit, there are moments of really interesting stuff, almost brilliant at times. But those moments are fleeting, usually to be found as developmental material in between his major motives and ideas.

Take for instance Robocop 2. If nothing else, that particular score will be infamous for one thing - those shrill, blaring sopranos shrieking out "Roooo-bo COOOOOOP; Roooo-bo COOOOOOP!!!" as one of the major motivic ideas of the score. I mean, come on...REALLY?!?! That was his brilliant idea for a futuristic movie about a cyborg police officer, and he had the nerve to call Poledouris' work crap?! The "overture" to the film, as is presented on the CD (ironically, it's actually the end credits suite) starts of quite interestingly. It begins with a short brass fanfare, which is then followed by an absolutely spectacular driving rhythm in the low brass and percussion. But then this wretched, hokey, goofball of a main theme enters and ruins the whole thing. It's the kind of stupid thematic line that would make James Swearingen come in his pants! It might have been more effective if a freshman concert band had been playing it - complete with intonation problems (HA - that's an understatement), missed entrances, maybe even one kid in the brass section playing everything at a triple-Fortissimo! Interestingly enough...it does sound like, at various points in the piece, that the percussionist playing the suspended cymbal got lost...a lot. There's a middle section to it that's essentially a reworking of some of the underscore to various dramatic scenes from the film. And it's fantastic - chocked full of great harmonic devices, orchestral colors, counterpoint, you name it! But then that stupid main theme comes back for a reprise and fucks it all up.

Someone on the FSM discussion board once remarked that, when in high school band, they attempted a band arrangement of the "Main Titles" from Star Trek IV. Apparently they read through it a couple of times, and the band director absolutely hated it. Then someone in the band spoke up and said that they had been playing it at half tempo. So they gave it another go at the correct tempo, and when it was over...he still hated it, and tossed it. I don't hate the score for ST:IV (sorry for the Dr. Seuss moment there), there are a few things to really like about it, but overall the only real reason I own the CD is for completionist sake. I suppose if bouncy and hokey, regardless of the film it was written for, is your kind of music then I don't know...maybe Rosenman is your guy. For me though, I just can't bring myself to really like him. His shitty demeanor certainly doesn't/didn't help. I want to hear more of his work, if for no other reason than to better clarify and justify my disdain for it. Problem is...I don't want to actually pay for any of it! That would seem almost hypocritical some how.

*there's a series of several posts on FSM from a couple of years ago that chronicle the life of Rosenman through various snippets of interviews he gave. Search for his name and read them if you don't believe me - The Life of Leonard Rosenman, pts. I - V, I believe.

I'd Like A Box of Chaos Please...And Can You Gift Wrap That?!

So anyway, the Christmas shopping season is in full swing (only 10 shopping days left and I'd love to have that new BSX Records release of Basil's A Whale for the Killing - hint, hint). If anyone reading this is offended by my referring to the season as Christmas, rather than 'holiday' or whatever, well...you, and your horse (you can fill in the rest). I'm sorry, it's Christmas shopping season - the Jews aren't out in a frenzy buying Hanukkah gifts. And as for Kwanzaa...fuck Kwanzaa - don't even get me started on fucking Kwanzaa (apologies to those in the black community, but I just don't buy it - please don't bring a protest rally [or riot] to my front door). Anyway, sorry about the tangent there, that wasn't really my point here today.

No, today, being the time of year that it is, I'd like to talk about social experimentation. I had a thought (scary, I know) about how one could more or less mindfuck nearly everyone in the country. I've always felt the $.99 marketing ploy to be one of the most ridiculous and yet simultaneously brilliant ideas ever conceived. Think about it...it's fucking everywhere! You go to the store for a gallon of milk - it's $2.99. No...it's not, it's $3.00. You head to your favorite fast-food restaurant/cholesterol pusher and order something off the $.99 value menu - bullshit man...those nuggets are a fucking dollar! You pump your gas...the price is $2.41(9) a gallon - fuck you Gassy McCon-Man, that gas is $2.42 a gallon. You know it, I know it! I don't know where it started, I don't know when it started. At some point in U.S. history, some marketing wizard (aka Legionnaire of Satan) got the crazy idea that turning a $1.00 item into $.99 would entice Joe (Dumb Schmuck) Customer into buying said item more often. And the kicker - it fucking WORKED!!! Americans (well...most of them) are stupid enough to think that given the choice between a shitburger for $2.00, and the exact same shitburger for $1.99, they're getting the better deal with the latter! That new Pocket Pussy 9000 w/ Super Suck Action sounds way cheaper listed as $99 instead of $100. Well fuck you sales man - I know better!

So, just for fun, I would love to bear witness to the complete and utter chaos that ensues should, for a single day, every item for purchase in the entire country is rounded up to that whole-dollar amount. And just to be fair (and to fuck with people even more), adjust the sales tax on everything so that the consumer is getting that one cent/dollar back. So for example - that Double-headed Wonder Dong Dildo that Gramma's been wanting for Christmas, it now costs $80 instead of $79. But after adjusting sales tax, Bobby and Lucy Grandkid are still paying $79. Well - let's be realistic...mom and dad are paying $80, and they fucking HATE IT! NO ONE IS PAYING ANYTHING EXTRA - IT JUST LOOKS LIKE THEY ARE! I think the result would be brain-numbingly glorious! I honestly don't know how most American consumers would react, but I see it going one of two ways. One: People stop buying shit because, hey "That's just too fuckin' expensive"; or two: People buy it - begrudgingly, but they're sooooooo fucking pissed that they had to spend "all that money" on that butt plug/toaster oven that they just "had to have". There would be hate mail; there would be protests; people would go fucking postal over a goddamned penny...and it would be awesome!

American consumers take seeing a 9 in the price of anything for granted - I don't think they'd know how to react to a 0 except with complete and total disgust, anger, and frustration. There are 9's in everything we buy. Except maybe for Wal-Mart. Those guys basically said, "$5.99? Oh yeah, well fuck you, we're gonna make it $5.98! Let's see who saves the most now motherfucker!" Which is great, I suppose - because, you know, at that rate the average American shopper can save upwards of a hundred bucks or so over the course of 3000 YEARS!!! The American penny is the most worthless hunk of metal on Earth, and I'm a dedicated advocate for getting rid of the little bastard. And yet I don't think that we, as a society, are psychologically prepared to deal with the ramifications of not having that meaningless scruple in our lives. Taking the 9's away would likely have the same effect as the confusion that would result from, say for instance, the federal government announcing that the official American language is Swahili-Pig-Latin (it's Swahili, but spoken in a Pig-Latin manner - how screwed up would that be?)!

See, I think The Joker had the wrong idea. Generally speaking, I don't think a group of people necessarily would kill a boatload of other people to save their own asses (generally speaking - it could happen). I do think that the average American would absolutely go medieval on some poor Mexican kid's* ass over having to pay an extra penny for that cheeseburger from Mickey-fuckin'-D's! Seeing this kind of carnage, chaos, and mayhem would be the best Christmas present EVER!!!

*Honestly, when's the last time you didn't get your food at McDonald's from a Mexican kid?! I can't remember...

If I Were a Tiger

So anyway, not a lot to say on the subject - but I just thought I'd throw my two cents out on it regardless. And besides, I needed something new on my blog...even if it is just fluff. I like fluff (or maybe I just like fluff-ers - guess that's something for a different post entirely). Anyway, I'm fascinated at the mentality of both the American media, and the surprisingly large percentage of our population who's lives seem to hinge on every little piece of bullshit dribble that comes out of it. So now we have Tigergate, or whatever the fuck the "news" outlets are calling it. So he wrecked his car...in his OWN FUCKING FRONT YARD!!! So he's supposedly fucked someone that wasn't his wife...welcome to the human fucking race! Last I heard, about 75% of all men...EVERYWHERE...are unfaithful to someone at some point in their lives! It's nature, guys can't, try as they may, fight 100,000 years of evolution. The natural question would seemingly be (for sensible, logical, intelligent people): what fucking business is it of ours anyway?!?! But alas, we don't live in a sensible, logical, or even remotely fucking intelligent society - so for those people the question seems to be "Why Tiger, WHY?!?!"

Seriously...what the FUCK is wrong with you people?!?!

It's none of your business. It will never be any of your business. It should never be any of your business. It wasn't anyone's business when Clinton got a hummer from Fatty McTrampstamp. Did we, as a people, make it our business? You bet your nosy ass we did!!! The American ideology seems to be that if you are a public figure, fuck the Bill of Rights - fuck life, liberty, and all that - you do not get a private life. And it's wrong...it's just plain wrong. The founding fathers of this country could never have had the foresight to account for the modern "celebrity" when they were drafting our nations laws. I can't help but think that if they had only known...there'd be a helluva lot more stipulations in those first ten amendments in regards to what "freedom of speech" and "freedom of the press" really mean. I suppose I really shouldn't be surprised by any of this. After all we are a nation where the press spends months dedicating front-page "news" to the ever-fluctuating size of [insert female entertainer's name here]'s ass, and how it's deteriorating the moral fabric of our society.

If I were Tiger, there would've been no statements to the police. No statements to the press. No statements to anybody. Were I Tiger, I'd stick to fixing my own shit, in the privacy of my own...well, erm...compound (let's face it, the guy doesn't have a "house", it's too fucking big to just be called a house). The only person he has to answer to right now is his wife. Not me, not you, not anyone else. OK, well I guess he might have a few questions to field from his auto insurance agent. Namely..."What the fuck, dude?!" I suppose that had I been Tiger, and the situation was forced upon me that I had to give a public statement, that I was "compelled" to do so - I would have called together the press conference, got up behind the mic, and told everybody...and I mean EVERYBODY...in the whole, wide world...

...TO GO FUCK THEMSELVES!!!

Then I would've said, "Thank you, and have a pleasant day." 'Cuz you know...that's just polite and all! And I'm a polite guy! He's a fucking BILLIONAIRE for Dogs sake, he can afford to tell people, any people, all people, to fuck off. Remind me to never become famous for anything. Christ, something as simple as the contents of my computer hard drive becoming public would be enough to get me burned at the stake. Or at the very least a public stoning.

OK, I suppose I'm sufficiently fluffed now - thanks Jimmy.

Don't Let the Door Hit You in the Ass on the Way Out

So anyway, I don't normally write about sports. It's boring. Really boring. With the exception of SI's Peter King, I have yet to find anyone in sports writing that can keep my attention for more than a paragraph or so. Add to that that I'm really not much of a sports enthusiast, and one has a solid case against me that I should in no way be writing about any sport of any kind. I don't like basketball...at ALL. I average about one whole hockey game a decade. I don't care that soccer is the most popular sport in the world...it's gay...really gay - Liberace gay. Golf...fuck, don't even get me started on golfing. It's not a sport - it's a game. There's a fucking difference. A sport requires some form of athleticism...of which there is absolutely none in golf. Fuck the textbook definition of a sport, for me, it's defined as something that requires both athleticism and talent. With just one or the other, it ain't a fuckin' sport...it's a game. With golf, you hit a ball with a stick, you walk after it, and hit it again. I can hit a ball with a stick, and I can walk. No one is ever going to accuse me of being an athlete. I don't give a shit that Tiger is a fucking billionaire...he's still not an athlete. So golf...NOT A FUCKING SPORT! I follow baseball just enough to know what's going on, and know which team's I do and don't like and generally why. I know marquee players when I see them, and I like going to Kaufman once in a while to see a live game. That's my world of baseball. I don't buy into the whole "baseball is the 'thinking man's' sport" bullshit. I'll admit, there's a design to it; there's strategy and nuance. But at the end of the day, most sports can say the same thing - it's just that the rest of them have added a certain level of physicality to that idea. Fat guys can play baseball...and be amazing! Do you ever see fat, world-class tennis stars...I don't think so. Sorry, bit of a digression there - point: baseball - sport yes; king of sports...not so much.

Then...there's football - the one sport I follow, particularly our local "team" - and the real subject of my little thought here for today. For me, football is just as intricate as baseball, if not more so. Again I refer back to the physicality of it - I offer that football is just as, if not more "thoughtful" than baseball...they just added a certain, shall we say, gladiator element. Fat guys play football too...they're called linemen, they have to be big in order to keep the other team from getting shit done. I will admit, even after watching football regularly for the better part of 20 years, I still don't understand the play-calling. I still don't have the first-fuck of a clue what a 'play-action' or 'screen play' are. I don't have the faintest idea what the differences between nickel, dime, 3-4, and 4-3 defenses are. But I can follow the game. I know what I'm seeing when plays work, and when they don't - and generally can spot the reason (or player) behind that success or failure. I'm familiar with more than just the marquee players for most of the teams in the league. And even in these "darkest of days", I'm still a die-hard Chiefs fan. They're not making it easy, but they're still my guys. It's times like this that you have to maintain your loyalty to your team - "Harvest is when they need you the most." Anything else, and you're just a 'fair-weather' fan and the team doesn't need you anyway. I hate fair-weather fans...fuck you! Go watch figure skating you prick! Digressing again, I know; anyway... Teams have their "rebuilding" years. KC has been rebuilding for about a decade now. Although in all fairness, I think this year truly meets the criteria for a rebuilding team - what with a new GM, new Head Coach, new (supposed) Superstar QB, and a roster with about 65% new faces (75% of whom are rookies).

So, I went through all of that...to get to this - my point: finally, the moment happened that (I'm guessing) most of Chiefs fandom has been waiting for for almost three years - Larry Johnson was fired yesterday! Hoo-fuckin'-Rah! There comes a time when certain elements or individuals become nothing but poison for a team, and lately, that poison for the Kansas City Chiefs, was RB Larry Johnson. And so they cut him out, like the cancer that he was. For the uninitiated, here's a summarized timeline of "LJ", and please note that it's vague and generalized, at best - I have neither the time, nor interest in looking up the specifics:

2004 (ish) - Priest Holmes is injured, opening the door for RB Johnson (who's spent a season-and-a-half bitching about being second banana to superior back Holmes); it's surmised that had Johnson been given a full season as starter, he might have broken every single-season running record in the league; then-coach Dick Vermeil makes the mistake of analogizing Johnson's newfound starting position to a baby taking off its diapers. Let the whining commence...

2005 & 2006 - Johnson becomes one of the (if not the the) top runners in the league; you can see his head inflate from the International Space Station...

2007 - Johnson holds out of training camp for more money (which is publicly chronicled on HBO's Hard Knocks), opting instead to pimp-it-out in his Miami condo all summer, goofing off and playing Playstation versions of himself; he breaks his foot mid-season...glad we gave him all that extra money!

2008 - Johnson half-asses his way through a rough season...my grandmother could've been a more productive player that year. He publicly trashes both the team and the city; he's suspended 3 games by KC and one additional game by the league stemming from allegations of assaulting a woman in a nightclub; a second assault charge follows as a woman claims he spit in her face; fuck it, he's rich - he can do what he wants, right?!

2009 - Johnson makes nice for the new regime change in KC; still manages to average less than 3-yards-per-carry, running the ball like I would after a big Thanksgiving dinner; October, after getting CREAMED by the Chargers, he uses his Twitter account to publicly bash Head Coach Todd Haley; he then continues his Tweet tirade by responding to all his detractors resulting from said bashing by calling them all faggots...on TWITTER!!! He's suspended for two weeks, resulting in a pay loss of about $630,000; he files a grievance with the team, half the suspension is lifted, he only loses about $300,000.

Yesterday - FIRED!!! See ya, ta-ta, get lost, beat it, toss off, fuck off, get the fuck outta here!

You know, I can't imagine what I would do if I was docked $100 from my paycheck...so losing 300 grand is just unfathomable to me. In the long run, it'll be like a speed bump for Johnson. His contract reneg from 2 years ago guarantees him almost $20 million!!! He's gonna get that money from the Chiefs, and now all he has to do is sit at home with his thumb up his asshole, and watch Sports Center! The only way he really loses in all of this is if he doesn't get picked up by another team - he's 30 this year, and he's an asshole...anything's possible. But not likely. If there's a silver lining, you could even call it justice if you want, it's that he won't have the opportunity to break the Chiefs' all-time rush record (set by Priest Holmes), which he was only about 75 yards from doing. I think every football fan in KC let out a big ol' honkin' sigh of relief on that one.

Fuck Larry Johnson...fuck him in his big, stinky poop chute!

For those keeping score, with this post I've officially matched my blogging output from my first year. That's actually only half-true, seeing as I began here on blogger in June of 2005. So I did as much blogging in half the time. But still...it's kind of a milestone of sorts I guess! Right?!?! (and I'm four posts from 150...that's fairly insignifcant compared to, say, Warrior Bard postings, but, again, a big acheivement for me!)