Super Bowl pick

0-2 last week; 126-137 for the season

Pittsburgh at Arizona (+6.5): Pittsburgh

Panel of the Week

From Punisher: War Zone #6:

Purple haze

If you've been following all the inauguration coverage, you've undoubtedly heard about the thousands of ticket holders who were unable to get through the Purple gate to see the swearing-in last week, and were instead trapped in the 3rd Street Tunnel. Or, as it's now known, the "Purple Tunnel of Doom."

You might think that an apology, the promise of inauguration souvenirs, and a sit-down with the Senate Sargent-At-Arms would address their grievances, but these plucky purple people just aren't satisfied. In fact, now they're actually requesting an exclusive viewing of President Obama, either at a White House event or a large public venue like the Verizon Center.

Now, being a local blogger on the D.C. scene--even a blogger who, to be fair, spends a lot more time discussing comic books, horror movies and Date Lab than important local issues--I feel that rather than dismiss these folks as a bunch of sniveling whiners, I have a responsibility to open up a dialogue with them. You know, make sure their side of the story gets out.

So I extended the invitation for one of them to sit down for an interview, and yesterday, I was joined by group spokesperson Mike Remington. A transcript of the interview follows.

Scotus: Hi, Mike. Thanks for agreeing to speak with me.

Mike Remington: My pleasure. Thanks for giving me a venue to discuss what I feel is the biggest slap in the face to Americans since 9/11.

Scotus: Wow. Really? That's a bit much, isn't it?

MR: Nope. This was a once-in-a-lifetime event, and because of the incompetence of the Joint Congressional Committee on Inaugural Ceremonies, we missed it. And we demand satisfaction.

Scotus: Okay, well, let's talk about that. According to the Washington Post yesterday, you're suggesting that the president hold a special White House reception for you or go to someplace like the Verizon Center or Nationals Park and meet with everyone who didn't get in, and, as one of your fellow ticket holders put it, "give a speech, shake hands, and take photos," correct?

MR: Sure. It seems like the least he could do, after what we went through.

Scotus: Well, yeah, but...I mean, you do realize this is the President of the United States, right? He does sort of have a busy schedule.

MR: Look, there are only 5,000 people in our Facebook group. How long could it possibly take for President Obama to give a speech, and then shake hands and take photos with 5,000 people? You know, just spend a couple minutes with each of us? Huh? How long?

Scotus: Uh...well...according to my calculations, about two weeks.

MR: Exactly. All we're asking for is two weeks of President Obama's time. Frankly, I think we're being more than reasonable.

Scotus: How so?

MR: Originally, we wanted them to redo the Inauguration.

Scotus: You wanted the White House to stage a second swearing-in? Or, third, I guess?

MR: No, we wanted them to redo the entire thing.

Scotus: Wait, the whole thing? Like, on the Capitol? With the crowds and the parade and everything?

MR: We deserve nothing less than the full experience. The government is spending over $800 billion on this stimulus package. Are you saying it can't spend a paltry $160 million on a second swearing-in ceremony? Also, we don't think anyone who was stuck in the tunnel should ever have to pay income tax again.

Scotus: I have to be honest, I'm trying my best to keep an open mind, here, but you guys really are coming off as a bunch of whiny little bitches. Yeah, it sucks that you missed the ceremony. Clearly, the system that was set up failed big time, and people feel bad about it. But these demands that President Obama essentially jump through hoops just to satisfy a small group of people...isn't it a bit much?

MR: See, Scotus, this is the difference between your generation and mine. When confronted with adversity, you Gen-Xers just give up. You crawl back into your little nihilistic shells, put on a Nirvana CD, and bitch and moan about how much the world sucks. The Millennial generation tends to be a bit more proactive about solving our problems.

Scotus: Meaning?

MR: We whine until we get our way. Since the day we were born, our parents have told us over and over how special we are. And you know what? They're right! You get a bad grade in school? Demand the right to do extra credit or have your parents threaten legal action. Get a bad evaluation at work? Say your supervisor is unfairly biased against you, and complain until it's taken out of your file. President of the United States isn't doing what you want? Form a Facebook group and complain until he does.

See, we Millennials don't do the word "no." We're owed face time with President Obama, and we're going to collect!

Scotus: Right. Face time. Let's take a look at this chart of the swearing-in. Specifically, where the Purple section is.

See how far away you would have been from Obama, even if you'd gotten in? How in the hell does this justify your demand that he put on some sort of private event for you?

MR: Your facts don't impress me. You want a fact? Here's a fact. Those of us who were stuck in that tunnel are an oppressed people. Like Israel. Except we probably have it tougher.

Scotus: Wow. I think that just about does it. Anything you'd like to say in closing?

MR: Yes. Whether we got our tickets via lottery or because our parents were connected or just bought them off of Craigslist for ridiculous amounts of money, we're owed a special memory, damn it. Right now, we're only asking for a meeting at the Verizon Center and two weeks of the president's time as he signs autographs and takes photos. If this completely reasonable demand isn't met, we'll have no choice but to escalate. We're going to need, like, a night in the Lincoln Bedroom or a weekend at Camp David or before we go away.

Scotus: Okay. Well, I'd like to thank Mike for joining me here today. And remember folks, it's not about getting photos or autographs or seeing the man up close. It's about being happy that Obama won the election. It's about history being made. It's about how, after eight years, we're finally seeing this country go in a positive direction. Isn't it?

MR: No, for us, it's all about photos and autographs.

Scotus: You guys are such whiny little bitches.

24: 1:00 p.m.-2:00 p.m

Thoughts:

-- All this talk of Henderson and season five is really making me nostalgic for when the show was firing on all cylinders. I hate to say it, but I'm starting to have serious doubts it'll ever be that good ever again.

-- You know, Tony and Emerson keep saying "brothers," but with all those meaningful looks, I'm picking up on a, uh, slightly different subtext there. If you know what I mean.

-- Neck shot! Also, in the span of about a minute, Tony's body count has eclipsed Jack's for the entire season so far. And that's just sad.

-- Generally, when Jack asks someone to do something, no matter how insane it is, he does it in a way that makes it sound completely reasonable. Like, "Get me a hacksaw so I can cut this guy's head off," or "Look the other way while I kick the Bill of Rights in the nuts." But asking the Matobos to willingly be taken to the evil dictator who wants to torture them into giving him power, was not one of those times.

-- Who's the hot chick that follows the president everywhere she goes? At first, I figured she was President Taylor's Charlie, but Charlie never got to sit in on classified terrorist briefings. I guess she's a Secret Service agent, but I'm pretty sure they don't get to sit in on those briefings, either.

-- I'm never going to look up and see a plane flying over the Mall the same way again.

-- I was hoping Carly Pope would somehow survive this season--or in the very least, a little while longer--using the power of her hotness, but I guess it wasn't to be.

Jack's confirmed kills: 1 (2 for the season)

Jack's Words of Wisdom: "We have to. It's as simple as that."

Overall grade: C+

Date Lab, I'm just not that into you

Remember a few years ago when the producers of Jerry Springer announced that they wouldn't air any more fights? That they wanted the show to be taken more seriously, and apparently couldn't reconcile respectability with people trading punches over being in the KKK or who was whose baby daddy? And how ratings quickly dropped, and all of a sudden, respectability wasn't quite so important after all and they went back to showing the fights?

Date Lab doesn't have ratings, but if it did, I'll bet they'd be at an all-time low right about now. Date Lab doesn't have fights, either, but what it did have at one time were some of the most self-involved, self-delusional, self-sabotaging singles the D.C. area had to offer.

Now, though? All the people featured in Date Lab come off as normal and well-adjusted. (Well, as normal and well-adjusted as you can get when talking about someone who turned to the Washington Post to find a mate.)

And that is, to be perfectly blunt, fucking boring.

Let's look at this week's couple, Patrick and Grace. They both seem like nice, reasonably attractive people whose main flaw appears to be a mutual disregard for the importance of a good night's sleep. They even made out a little on the first date! Awwww. Oh, and they went out again, but not until a couple of scheduling snafus made Grace pessimistic about their chances of seeing one another again. Awwww...

See? Once in a while, that sort of Date Lab is fine. I accept that fact that it can't be all freaks, all the time. Even the occasional Twilight Zone episode had a happy ending. But when almost every Date Lab is like that? Unless you're a psycho, there's no point to voyeurism for its own sake. There has to be some sort of payoff. If you were the kind of person who aimed his or her telescope into your neighbors' bedroom, it wouldn't simply be to watch them read or watch TV, would it?

Even the dates that don't end up going anywhere are dull. Take John and Jen from a few weeks back. They went out, they parted on good terms, the end. Yawn.

Or how about Robert and Chrissie? It used to be that when a Date Lab concluded with a terse update like, "The daters don't plan to see each other again," you could be sure that something bad went down. But no. Robert: "There weren't any sparks, but that's fine. It was fun talking to someone who is so different." Chrissie: "We had good conversation, and he was a total gentleman the whole night."

Look, no one reads Date Lab to feel good about humanity or the prospects of finding true love. That's why we read B.I.O. We read Date Lab for the same reason we watch professional wrestling or slow down when we pass a horrible car accident: Because when it isn't us, carnage is fascinating.

So enough with all the feel-good couples. You can't tell me that D.C. has run out of single douchebags. You can't, because I see them all the time. Date Lab should be actively recruiting these people, not turning them away. Maybe set up some sort of finder's fee, where if you submit the name of a douchebag who's a friend/coworker/ex of yours who agrees to participate in Date Lab, you get a $20 gift card or 1,000 Post Points or something.

But come on, Washington Post Magazine editors. You can't seriously tell me that Date Lab now is as good as Date Lab from two years ago. You probably don't even have as much fun putting it together as you used to. Wasn't it so much more enjoyable writing about the Leana Wens of the world than the Patricks and Graces?

The bottom line is, there's no good, virtuous reason to publicly chronicle the awkward and occasionally humiliating first date of two complete strangers in print for the entertainment of readers. Make no mistake, Date Lab is an inherently evil concept. So why fight it? Accept it. Embrace it. Give us something to laugh at again. You know you want to.

Panel of the Week

From Final Crisis: Superman Beyond #2:

24: 12:00 p.m.-1:00 p.m

Thoughts:

-- I'm absolutely shocked Sean's wife didn't die as a result of his interference. Usually on this show, you can't pull crap like that without any consequences. I'll still bet anything that Sean, his wife, or both, will get killed at some point as an indirect result of that plane landing when it did.

-- Walker's good at torturing people, but she needs to learn that's only part of it. The other part involves being convincing enough to make her superiors believe that she had to torture that guy, or else horrible things would happen. Jack's good at that sort of thing. Walker--like Dick Cheney--clearly isn't.

-- I guess it all made sense in the typical 24 kind of way, but it still seemed awfully easy for Jack to crack that panic room. I mean, presumably, the people who install those things for a living aren't idiots. You'd think they'd have thought of securing vent access.

-- It's probably not a good sign that I've already forgotten what the hell the CIP device does. I know that pretty much every season has its MacGuffin that Jack spends the first part of the season chasing, but I wish they'd come up with a sexier name than "CIP device."

-- When shooting Walker, Jack couldn't have aimed, like, an inch to the right? What was the point of nicking her and drawing blood? It's not like Emerson could have seen her from where he was.

-- They went with the silent clock to end the episode? Isn't that only supposed to be used when someone dies? Unless Walker's dead--and if she is, that would be the coolest thing ever, with Jack going to so much trouble not to shoot her, only to bury her alive instead--that's sort of cheap.

Jack's confirmed kills: 0 (1 for the season)

Jack's Words of Wisdom: "If you trust me, I'll get you through this alive. Get on your knees."

Overall grade: B-

Inauguration Day by the numbers

Number of people around me who were too old, sick, or underdressed to be outside for so long, and consequently required medical attention: 8

Number of complete strangers who gave me unsolicited hugs after Obama was sworn in: 2

Number of tourists I had to apologize to for D.C.'s horrible planning for getting people out of the Mall: 3 (Having to apologize to tourists for my city was among the low points of my life. It's like apologizing to the burglar who breaks into your home for not having anything worth stealing.)

Number of times I blew off local media who wanted to interview me about "my feelings on this historic day" or some such: 3

Number of cute girls who tried to strike up a conversation with me, but I was too cold and irritated to do anything more than respond with monosyllabic grunts: 1

Number of tourists who, when told that the closer spaces were reserved for people with tickets, actually asked, "Oh, where are they selling tickets?": 1

Number of times I thought, "I'm really glad I came out to experience this moment in history.": 1 (When it was finally over.)

Number of times I thought, "I am such an asshole. This is the stupidest fucking thing I've ever done, and a day from now, it won't matter if I watched Obama get sworn in from the Mall in the freezing cold, or from my apartment with the heat jacked up to 80, and I'll feel even dumber for having done this.": 2,391 (From 4 a.m. to when it was finally over.)

Number of tourists I shoved: 1 (I actually now regret this, but the guy stopped in the middle of a surge of people to get a photo or something, and by that point, my patience-o-meter was in negative numbers. So let's go ahead and consider this my fourth apology to a tourist.)

Number of times I contemplated how easy it would be for the crowd to just overwhelm the police and National Guard troops and force our way through D.C.'s ridiculous and seemingly-arbitrarily placed security barriers, and gave serious thought to trying to incite people to riot: 4

Number of people in the crowd I heard complaining about the bitter cold and wishing they had hand warmers: 5

Number of hand warmers I had: 8 (But I was using all eight of them and was still cold, so clearly, I didn't have any to spare.)

Red State Update

Nothing like a sore loser.

I do like how they sandwich "sports nuts" between "porno freaks" and "drunks." Man, there's a Venn diagram I'd love to see.

If the crowd hadn't been in such a good mood, these guys probably would have been torn to pieces. As it was, most people just stood and laughed at them. At one point, the guy in the black hat started bitching about "faggots," and things almost turned ugly, but cooler heads prevailed.

And here's a tip for any other right-wing nuts out there: when rattling off the list of people who offend God and are going to burn in hell, don't say "masturbators." It just makes people laugh harder.

Traffic stops and street teams

By the White House today, there's apparently no such thing as overreacting to a minor traffic infraction. I'm not sure what the hell the driver of the blue minivan did, but his ass got pulled over, Jack Bauer-style.

The Pepsi Street Team. Someone asked if they were giving out free samples, and they said yes, but they weren't allowed to on the Mall. Which would seem to make the Mall a lousy location for the Pepsi Street Team to be. But hey, they're the experts. (Although, this might be why Coke is kicking their ass. Well, that and the fact that Pepsi tastes like sugary piss.)

The MSNBC Street Team. Those vests actually have monitors built into them, which (naturally) are running MSNBC. This seems like both a cruel and ineffective way for MSNBC to exploit its cheap labor. I mean, is anyone actually going to pause and watch MSNBC on some kid's chest?

The BET Street Team. The only thing worse than being forced to walk around with TV monitors on your chest might be being forced to walk around with a tank of coffee on your back. But they offered me some even though I'm not exactly in BET's target demo, so at least they seemed to be in a cheery mood.

The Concert

It finally hit me when I was watching the concert at the Lincoln Memorial today. We didn't elect a new president in Barack Obama. We crowned a new king. Possibly even anointed a new god. I have never seen people act like this before. I can't imagine it lasting, given that things are probably going to get worse before they get better, and Obama, rightly or wrongly, will be blamed for some of that. But for now, the devotion people on the Mall had for him bordered on the cult-like.

Here are a few observations from the concert.

- Springsteen was a good choice to open the concert, but the song sucked. I know "Born in the U.S.A." isn't the rah-rah pro-America song Republicans seem to think it is, given how often it's played at their rallies, but it is pretty catchy, and it has U.S.A. in the title. That would have really kicked things off.

- Until she came out to speak, I had no idea Laura Linney was in town, much less, would be at the concert. She's my number one over-40 celebrity crush. I had planned to meet and seduce Anne Hathaway this weekend, but I figure I can do that anytime. How many shots am I going to get with Laura Linney?

- When Marisa Tomei was announced, there was a noticeable WTF? reaction from the crowd. Did she give a lot of money to the DNC or something? Marisa Tomei is someone you call when you're inaugurating the new city comptroller, not the President of the United States. I guess there's no expiration date on how long you can milk your Oscar for. I'm surprised Cuba Gooding Jr. wasn't invited to speak.

- People apparently still love Tom Hanks. No, I know. I don't get it, either.

- On the other end of the spectrum, based on the groans I heard when he was introduced, Josh Groban was not popular with the crowd. I don't even know if most of those people have even heard a Josh Groban song on which to base their dislike on. I think it's just the idea of Josh Groban people object to.

- During the song by Usher, Shakira, and Stevie Wonder, the girl next to me was complaining about the logic of putting the three of them together. I found myself agreeing, until she outed herself as an idiot by adding that it should have just been Usher out there. Yes. Because who needs Stevie Wonder when you have Usher?

- Improbably, Garth Brooks was the highlight of the show. He had people literally jumping up and down with "American Pie" and "You Make Me Wanna Shout." Then for his last song, I think he actually tried singing a Garth Brooks song, and people quickly settled down. He should probably just stick to other people's songs.

- The Naval Academy Glee Club's performance was a bit awkward. There were some more groans and a few mutters of, "Come on..." Because everyone wants to support the troops and all, but to be perfectly blunt, when you have acts like the ones playing today, no one's really that interested in the Naval Academy Glee Club.

- U2 was great and got the crowd going. But saying U2 was great and got the crowd going is like saying grass is green and water is wet.

- That bit with the bald eagles could not have been more lame. Look, if you want to come out with a bald eagle on your arm, come out with a bald eagle on your arm. If you want to let the bald eagle fly away, let the bald eagle fly away. But don't tie the bald eagle's legs to your arm so that he takes off, gets a foot away, and then discovers he's restrained.

- Obama was absolutely mesmerizing. And the best part is, I could actually see him from where I was standing without the benefit of the Jumbotron. I can't even recall what he talked about. Something about America, I think. I was too busy just sucking in the atmosphere. If Jesus had shown up and announced he'd be speaking at the Jefferson Memorial, no one would have left the Obama speech.

- I'm not a Beyonce fan, so we left while she was closing out the show. Part of me was bothered by the fact that with all those great acts, Beyonce is the one they pick to close it, but it allowed us to make a quick getaway while most people stuck around to watch her, so it all worked out.

Now, we got to the concert about 1:45, only 45 minutes before it started. And frankly, there were lots of areas along the Reflecting Pool where there was space to move around. So it didn't even occur to me that there were people who either couldn't get into the main concert area or didn't choose to. So when I got to the World War II Memorial, this really surprised me.

It's not the greatest photo in the world, but you see all those little dots from the street to the Washington Monument? Yeah, those are all people watching the show from a distance. Imagine you've pushed and weaved your way through a few thousand people in order to get out of the concert area, and then come face-to-face with about a hundred thousand more. Getting to the Metro was not easy.

And Tuesday's going to be a fucking nightmare. A fun and spiritually-uplifting nightmare. But still a fucking nightmare.

My Bloody Valentine 3-D

There are several 3-D theaters in the D.C. area, so if you're so inclined to see this film, you have no excuse whatsoever to see it in 2-D. If you do, you'll get a fairly decent slasher flick, but it'll be nowhere near as great an experience as seeing it in 3-D.

The first ten or so minutes of My Bloody Valentine are pleasantly intense. The killer wakes up from a coma, slaughters pretty much the entire hospital, heads over to the local mine where a bunch of teens are having a party, slaughters pretty much all the teenagers, and then disappears into the mine, never to be seen again.

Or is he?!? Because ten years later, someone dressed exactly like him is once again going on a rampage--per the title, a bloody rampage, if you will--in the small town of Harmony.

(I'm going to pause here and point out that just like you're asking for trouble when you call your small town something creepy, you're also asking for trouble when you call it something like Harmony. See, that makes it ironic for a psycho to select your town to do his killing, and in movies, psychos love irony. Just call your town Springfield or something.)

Anyway, the movie trots along at a nice pace, as the mystery about who the killer is unfolds, and characters get pickaxed to death, and it's here that the 3-D really kicks ass. It's not exactly, "Holy shit!" awesome, but there is a certain novelty in seeing someone's eye explode out of its socket in glorious 3-D. Of course, the last film I went to that was in 3-D was Freddy's Dead, so it's not like there's been a lot to compare it to, but I thought the gimmick worked reasonably well.

And everything is pretty good, right up until the end, when the film takes a really terrible detour into Suck. The identity of the killer is so underwhelming and so badly telegraphed, that when the "twist" happens, you probably figured it out about ten minutes beforehand. Just the slightest bit of subtlety on the part of the filmmakers leading up to the reveal would have worked wonders.

But other than that, it's a solid slasher film. I wouldn't mind seeing a few other horror films go the 3-D route, though I'd hate for it to become a trend.

Script: B
Acting: B
Gore: A-
Overall: B

Third round NFL playoff picks

2-2 last week; 126-135 for the season

Philadelphia at Arizona (+4): Philadelphia

Baltimore at Pittsburgh (-6): Baltimore

Panel of the Week

From Amazing Spider-Man #583:

Final Crisis #6

"I made a very solemn vow about firearms. But for you, I'm making a once-in-a-lifetime exception." - Batman

Fuck yes. This is what I've been waiting for. This issue is what a Grant Morrison superhero epic should be like.

Spoilers below, right after Supergirl refuses to be judged by the way she dresses.

There's so much awesome stuff in this issue, it totally makes up for the first five sucking so much. Well, not really. But close.

After several issues of Morrison more or less getting in his own way by throwing out a jumble of insane ideas--some his, some Jack Kirby's--all the while trying to cater to the inherent demands of company-wide crossover, everything finally clicks. If every issue was like this, we'd be talking about one of the best superhero events ever. As it stands, this issue was just a welcome relief.

Up until now, it seems like there's either been a lot of talking or a lot of action. The talking got boring, and the action felt forced. Here, the two are perfectly balanced. Action during talking. Talking during action. It all works. Even the Tawky Tawny/Kalibak fight, which, by all rights, should have been incredibly lame, was excellent.

Capping this off, of course, was the Batman/Darkseid battle, which was as intense as it was brief. Morrison and DC have gotten a lot of criticism for not carrying through on the promise of the (mostly subpar) "Batman: R.I.P." storyline over in the pages of Batman, and then saying, "Oh, no, you have to check out Final Crisis for the R.I.P. part."

But man, did they finally deliver. Batman? Dead. Dead! For reals! I mean, yeah, it's only temporary. But still! Dead! How dead? This dead.

Temporary or not, that's pretty damn dead.

So anyway, next issue should be a blast. The world's about to end, Batman's dead, and everything seems to be going to hell. Which is more or less where I figured things would be at this point, but I wish Morrison hadn't taken the long way in getting there.

Twittering Part 2

So I've been using Twitter for a couple of weeks now. And I really like it. I completely get the appeal now, and I can even see why some people abuse it to the extent they do. It's oddly empowering to be able to type out your every thought, word, or deed, and know that others are paying attention to it. Not especially healthy, but oddly empowering.

Anyway, a few Twitter observations based on my usage thus far:

1) There are certain people on Twitter who seem to have made it their mission in life to be...Twitter personalities, for lack of a better term. They're not in any way noteworthy or interesting, but their strategy is to follow every Twitter user they come across in the hopes they follow back. It's sort of like fishing with a net. So if someone follows 10,000 people and only a quarter of those people return the favor, BOOM, they have 2,500 followers and therefore cast the illusion of being interesting. It's both ingenious and sad at the same time. As an experiment, I'm giving serious thought to creating a separate Twitter account, adding everyone I can, and tweeting the most vapid, useless things I can think of, just to see how many people I can sucker into following me. If I were to use a photo of a hot chick in the profile, I'll bet I could get 5,000 followers, easy.

2) I'm intentionally limiting myself to no more than five tweets a day, because I really don't want to be that hypothetical "Going to the store now" guy I talked about last time. For other people, five tweets often encompasses about five minutes. And it's not even a matter of them incessantly detailing what they're doing, it's that every stray, random thought ends up being Twittered without any sort of filter. One of the people who was initially following me was this rapper who I tried to follow, but had to stop after a few minutes, because his tweets were coming in at such rapid pace, they were literally taking up my entire feed. You want to say, "Dude, stop," but that's sort of rude, so you just un-follow them.

3) On Twitter, the geeks are finally the cool kids. Famous geeks, anyway. There's a weird, semi-incestuous Twitter circle made up of people like Wil Wheaton, Felicia Day, Brea Grant, John Hodgeman, Warren Ellis, various G4 hosts, etc., all of whom regularly tweet back and forth to each other. It's sort of like being in a room with a bunch of celebrities and just sitting there while they ignore you and talk amongst themselves. And this isn't a complaint or anything. If I didn't want to follow their conversations, I'd simply un-follow them. But it's interesting to observe.

4) Speaking of celebrities, some are surprising. Karl Rove is oddly personable. LeVar Burton apparently has a lot of downtime and just spends it talking to people. John Cleese says some pretty random stuff.

5) I still haven't settled on whether I'm going to be out and about this weekend, or holed up in my apartment with a shotgun pointed at the door in case any tourists try and get in. But if I am out, I'll try and document whatever examples of out-of-towner assholery I see, ideally accompanied by photographic evidence. In other words, there's an excellent chance I'll go over my five tweet limit. Probably by a few hundred. Because tourists are assholes.

Cha-ching I can believe in

Typically, Metro focuses its energies on three things:

1) Trying to squeeze more money out of the government.
2) Trying to squeeze more money out of passengers.
3) Trying to cut costs by degrading service as much as possible, short of replacing trains with rickshaws.

Oh, wait. As I'm typing this, a rickshaw just pulled into the station. Two people got on, filling it to capacity. It's taking off down the tunnel. The sign says the next rickshaw won't be here for another 37 minutes. Well played, Metro.

But here, I'll offer up some rare praise for Metro, and its hapless leader, John B. Catoe Jr. For once, Metro came up with an idea to make some extra cash so utterly genius, I'm shocked they thought of it. Now, it's not as good as some of the ideas that I've had in the past to increase revenue, like legalized prostitution inside of stations or getting rid of subsidies for the elderly. But it's pretty damn good.

A normal SmartTrip card costs $10, and comes with $5 worth of Metro fare already on it. The ObamaTrip card costs $10 and doesn't come with a damn thing. So basically you're paying $10 for a picture of Obama with a shit eating grin on his face. (Probably the same grin John B. Catoe Jr. has while thinking about what these cards are going to do for his bonus this year.)

Let's think about this rationally for a moment. Does the card have any practical purpose whatsoever that the regular SmarTrip card doesn't? Absolutely not. So what's the appeal?

Will it serve as a reminder of the Inauguration? I guess, but how bad is your memory if you need to look at a picture of Obama on a twice-daily basis to remember the experience?

Are you planning on showing it to your grandkids one day? Be honest. If your grandmother pulled out a Metro card with a picture of F.D.R. on it, would you actually care? Or would you just feign interest while wondering how much you could get for it on eBay when she dies?

But they're apparently selling really well. And--and this is the genius part--if we're buying them, knowing full well that it doesn't do anything that our current SmarTrip cards don't already do, think about how eager tourists will be to snatch them up. Especially given that most of them won't be familiar with the Metro, and may not know that they can just get a regular paper fare card for free. In fact, let's just hide those machines this weekend, and only sell the Obama cards.

So here's what I want to see happen. I want to see Metro hawking these things in every station and on every street corner in D.C. They'll be like catnip to tourists. Something with Obama's face on it that can fit in their wallets and is actually semi-useful (so long as they're in D.C., Maryland, or Virginia)? Sign them up!

Sure, six months from now, when Inauguration fever has worn off and half the country probably hates Obama because the economy still sucks or he was caught with an intern or something, they'll be cleaning out their closets and wondering what the hell they were thinking when they bought the cards. But by then, it'll be too late! We'll have their money! Lots of it!

Think about it: Gold-plated Metro seats! A station in Georgetown! Fares pushed back down to $1.10! Training programs to teach station managers how to act like human beings! It'll be a gilded age of Metro, the likes of which we never could have imagined!

...Okay, none of that will actually happen. John B. Catoe Jr. will get his bonus. Metro headquarters will get some brand new leather furniture and a few flat-screen TVs. And the rest of the money will either be spent paying off the family of the next person killed by a Metro bus driver, or lost in some embezzlement scheme that the city won't discover until ten years from now.

But even if we don't see a penny of that Obama money, we can get something almost as good out of this. Pride.

The sort of pride that can only come from a city pulling together to rob its visitors blind. The sort of pride that can only come from passing off a piece of cheap plastic as a priceless memento. The sort of pride that can only come from mentally divorcing ourselves from our fellow Americans in terms of "Us" vs. "Them," and then kicking the crap out of "Them." That's the sort of pride I'm talking about.

So what do you say, Washington? Can we do this?

24: 11:00 a.m.-12:00 p.m

Thoughts:

-- Aw, that reunion was cute. One of these days, Jack and Chloe really need to just do it. Just to get it out of the way.

-- The First Gentleman's Secret Service agent looks like he's 12. If I ever need Secret Service protection, I'll ideally want someone who looks like Kimbo Slice, but in the very least, someone capable of growing facial hair.

-- I keep trying to overlook the too-close-for-comfort similarities between this season and Die Hard II, but the show isn't making it easy with scenes like Sean's wife calling him from the plane, all Bonnie Bedelia-like.

-- Hey, it's Ever Carradine. Between her and Agent Walker, I wonder if the real FBI is also full of hotties. Honestly, even Janeane Garofalo is sort of doing it for me. Must be her Chloe attitude.

-- Geez. Like I said before, I really don't like Bill, but his cavalier attitude about whether Jack lived or died was pretty cool. At least he's finally learning shit from Jack instead of trying to get in his way.

-- Oh, Sean. I'm pretty sure you just got your wife killed there, buddy. On this show, only Jack is allowed to buck authority and not suffer karmic consequences.

-- I'll bet that at least ten clandestine meetings take place by the Tidal Basin every single day. It's such a perfect place to talk about conspiracies or murder plots or whatever.

-- It's a shame Jack isn't there to see Agent Walker torturing Tanner. It would have given him wood.

-- Fuck, Jack! We're four episodes in, and you've only killed one person! That's 1/6 of the season...gone! You promised me you'd get over 100 kills this year! At this rate, you won't even make it to ten. Get it together, dude.

Jack's confirmed kills: 1 (1 for the season)

Jack's Words of Wisdom: "Be polite, professional, and have a plan to kill everyone you meet, right?"

Overall grade: B

24: 10:00 a.m.-11:00 a.m

Thoughts:

-- "Written by Many Cato and Brannon Braga." Well, the first part of that credit gives me confidence. The second just reminds me how much I hated Voyager.

-- I wish Janis wasn't such a Chloe clone. What's the point of not featuring CTU Los Angeles this season if they're just going to feature CTU D.C.? Then again, it seems like every office in America has a Chloe working in it (mine has about four or five), so I guess it makes sense.

-- Ugh. Bill Buchanan. Television Valium. Every season, I keep hoping this will be the one Bill gets killed, and every season, I end up disappointed. Don't let me down this year, terrorists!

-- And...Chloe's back. I think I see where they're going with this, and I'm not sure I like it. I mean, it's not like I really thought Tony had gone evil, but I think they could have done better than Tony, Bill, and Chloe becoming the new Mod Squad.

-- "I'm just glad I didn't break your neck." "Well, uh, you came close." "Yeah. Sorry about that." On 24, this is what passes for male bonding.

-- Heh. Okay, I take back what I said about Janis. Chloe vs. Chloe is just too awesome for words.

Jack's confirmed kills: 1 (1 for the season)

Jack's Words of Wisdom: "So help me God, I will kill you and you will stay dead this time!"

Overall grade: B

24: 9:00 a.m.-10:00 a.m

Thoughts:

-- CTU, the White House, now the FBI...is there any organization in the 24 universe that doesn't have moles? Like, if you go to the Subway near Farragut Square, is there a mole working there? Is there a mole on the Redskins? (Actually, that would explain a lot.)

-- This show doesn't do a lot of FX shots aside from stuff blowing up, but that bit with the planes was awesome.

-- Christ, I hate that family in the T-Mobile commercial. I would never let my son have a friend called "Skinny Pete."

-- I wonder that young FBI agent is auditioning for the role of Jack's sidekick. If so, someone should tell him what happened to Chase and Mike.

-- I'm starting to get a little bored now. How the hell has it been almost two hours without Jack killing anyone? He didn't even get to torture that guy before he was assassinated.

-- I really like Jack's ensemble. The open-collared blue shirt and raincoat work for him. That's how bored I am. I'm critiquing Jack Bauer's fashion choices.

-- Shouldn't Tony automatically know that when a camera goes out, Jack's responsible?

-- Son of a bitch, how the hell does Walker have a higher body count than Jack does thus far?

-- I'll give Jack credit for killing that guy he and Walker shot together, but only because I feel embarrassed for him.

-- The promo voice-over guy is promising "the first big surprise of the season" tomorrow night. Last time, that was a nuke going off and Jack killing Curtis. They'll have to work hard to top that.

Jack's confirmed kills: 1 (1 for the season)

Jack's Words of Wisdom: "We've done so many secret things over the years in the name of protecting this country, we've created two worlds. Ours and people we promised to protect. They deserve to know the truth. Then they can decide how far they want to let us go."

Overall grade: C+

24: 8:00 a.m.-9:00 a.m

Thoughts:

-- I don't see what the big deal about that car crash. D.C. drivers do that shit every single morning. Complete with automatic weapons.

-- Oh, shut up, Senator Pussy (D)! Fuck you and your Constitution! Besides, if you read the fine print, you'll see the Founding Fathers, in their infinite wisdom, put in a clause specifically exempting Jack.

-- If Jack isn't tapping Agent Walker at some point this season, I'll be seriously disappointed. If Jack is tapping Janeane Garofalo at some point this season, I'll be considerably more so.

-- Holy shit! Tony's alive! What a shock! Or at least it would be if if Fox hadn't blown the surprise over a year ago.

-- Here's my problem with a female president: What happens if a mouse got into the Oval Office during a crisis? The president would be up on her desk screaming, and nothing would get done. Thank God Obama won.

-- Oh, shut up, Will Thomas. There's something a bit...unsavory about WTTG running a story about hi-tech terrorism on the same night 24 premieres.

-- So Roger's dead? That's too bad. And he seemed so excited his mom was president. Oh, well. C'est la vie.

-- When Walker told Jack, "You're coming with me, and you're doing this my way," Jack looked intrigued. And maybe a little aroused. Audrey who?

-- Uh...what is this "Naylor Road" bullshit? That's F Street, assholes. Seriously, 24 writers, it's called Google Maps. Use it.

-- Heh. "Do whatever it takes." Jack Bauer's four favorite words in the English language.

Jack's confirmed kills: 0 (0 for the season)

Jack's Words of Wisdom: "For a combat soldier, the difference between success and failure is the ability to adapt to your enemy."

Overall grade: A

The Unborn

Spoilers follow...

The Unborn is a film in desperate need of two things: 1) An R rating, and 2) A better leading actress.

In regards to the second point, don't get me wrong, Odette Yustman is hot as hell. To plagiarize a line from Jack of Fables, she's hotter than any other six women combined. She's so hot, she should be continued onto the next girl.

But as much as Hollywood wishes it were so, "hot" is not a synonym for "talented." Granted, you don't typically go to horror flicks for great displays of thespianism (I'm not sure that's actually a word, but it should be), but the first scene she has with Gary Oldman is especially awkward. I mean, he's clearly in this film only as a favor to David Goyer and/or a quick payday, but it's not like he's just phoning it in, either. He's still Gary Oldman. Then Yustman tries emoting, and, well...it's not pretty.

The rating is a much bigger problem. I'll repeat my Number One Rule For Horror Films: There is no horror film that can't be made immensely better through copious amounts of gore. Unfortunately, PG-13 means no gore. Or at least, so little of it, you might as well be watching a Disney film. At the end, there are a lot of deaths in rapid succession, but they're more of the bloodless "bodies flying around getting crushed" variety.

As for the rest of the film, it's okay. Not especially good, not especially bad. Just okay. Plotwise, it's a decent enough Exorcist rip-off. There were a few creepy moments. I really liked the backstory involving the Kabbalah and Nazi Germany. And if nothing else, it does look great. I think Goyer is a really talented director, even if I have yet to actually enjoy any of his films. So in the end, The Unborn probably isn't worth today's obscenely high ticket prices, but I'd say it's at least Netflix-worthy.

One last complaint: There's something at the end of the film that...I guess is supposed to be a twist? Sort of? Anyway, Yustman's character is pregnant, which was apparently the catalyst for everything that happens, but it's telegraphed so blatantly earlier that it's impossible not to pick up on it. Even if the idiot girl behind me hadn't shouted out, "She pregnant!" during a scene where Yustman is throwing up into the toilet, I think I would have been able to figure it out. These sorts of "twist" endings have become so common and overused in horror films that I think it would actually be a bigger twist for them not to feature a twist.

Script: C
Acting: C+
Gore: D+
Overall: C-

Panel of the Week

From Marvel Zombies 3 #4:

The Official D.C. Tourist's Guide to Inauguration Weekend

You know what I love more than anything in the world? Tourists.

Love 'em. They're just great. Great people. Every single one of them. There's no such thing as a bad tourist. You know what else is great? The Inauguration. Because this event could bring not one million, not two million, not even three million, but four million tourists. Good God. Four million tourists. What did we do to deserve this...er, blessing? I have no idea, but whatever it is, it must have been awesome. Four million tourists. Wow. We're so lucky!

Other local bloggers have taken it upon themselves to give our fellow Americans some helpful hints for their visit here, but given my unabashed love for tourists, I thought I'd weigh in, too.

Helping me out is a good friend I like to call Mr. D.C. Hey, Mr. D.C.! How much do we love tourists?

Ha, ha, ha. They sure, Mr. D.C. They sure do.

Anyway, here are a few helpful hints for your visit to our fair city over Inauguration weekend.

1) Getting Around

One of the first things you'll notice is our world-class public transportation system. Now, D.C.'s a busy town, even when we're not swearing in new presidents. As such, people tend to be in a hurry, and nowhere is this more evident than the Metro. In fact, you may see people constantly walking up and down the left side of station escalators. Feel free to stand in their way.

See, sometimes we Washingtonians get so busy and so self-involved, we need tourists like you to bring us back down to Earth by blocking our path. Should some impatient Washingtonian ask you to move, simply refuse and say, "Hey, you're not that important!" The person will be grateful for the ego check and share a good laugh with you.

Once you're in the station or on the train, you might notice numerous signs warning you not to eat, drink, or smoke, lest you be hit with a fine. Great news! These rules have been suspended for the Inauguration! If you see a Metro employee or transit cop, feel free to indulge right in front of them. Don't worry. They're powerless to do anything about it!

2) Eating and Drinking

You may be thinking about sampling the local cuisine or heading into one of D.C.'s many drinking establishments. Don't do it! It's not that we don't want you there. We do! It's just that...well, our lame restaurants and bars just can't compare to those from...well, wherever you out-of-town city slickers or small town folk happen to be from.

All this is obviously a point of great embarrassment to us, so if a local should recommend a bar or restaurant to you, they're just covering for our collective insecurity. Best to stick mainly to national chains like McDonald's and T.G.I. Friday's for your eating and boozing needs. We'll be good hosts and stick to our horrible, horrible bars and restaurants so as to stay our of your way.

3) Your Safety is Our #1 Priority

You may have heard some crazy rumor that D.C. has a high crime rate. This is only partially true. The following areas of the city are considered dangerous and should be avoided at all costs: Northwest, Northeast, and Southwest. Why, we're barely a week into 2009, and we've already had twenty stabbings and fourteen shootings in Georgetown and Capitol Hill! You're best off spending as much time in Southeast D.C. as possible. Especially at night. Crime there is practically unheard of. In fact, many tourists report being able to walk down the street counting their money, and not get hassled in the least. Try it!

Well, I hope this guide helps you out a bit! Remember, when you're here, you're our guest, and gosh darnit, we're going to take great care of you!

But of course, part of being a guest is knowing when to leave. So enjoy the weekend leading up to the Inauguration, enjoy the swearing in and the parade, and enjoy all the balls and celebrating and whatnot that night, but come Wednesday morning? Let's see, how can I put this...um...don't be here.

Seriously, it'll be hard enough going back to work after a four-day weekend without four million of you underfoot. Check out of your hotel, head off to the airport or Union Station, and be as unobtrusive as possible. Don't try and make conversation about the Inauguration. Don't ask for directions. Don't make eye contact.

But other than that? Welcome to D.C.! Enjoy your stay!

Second round NFL playoff picks

2-2 last week; 124-133 for the season

Baltimore at Tennessee (-3): Baltimore

Arizona at Carolina (-10): Carolina

Philadelphia at New York Giants (-4): Philadelphia

San Diego at Pittsburgh (-6): San Diego

Drawers

Like most people, I thought that law they tried to pass in Virginia that would make it illegal to walk around with your underwear showing was stupid and probably unconstitutional. But then again, I'd never seen underwear being abused quite to this extent, either.

Maybe you shouldn't be fined or thrown in jail for it. But I feel like if you see someone with their pants that low, you ought to be able to go up and give them a wedgie without it being considered assault.

Twittering

A little while ago, I started thinking about creating a Twitter account to go along with the blog. Then last month I got a couple of emails from Twitter saying people had started to follow me on Twitter. After a moment of confusion, I realized, hey, I already had a Twitter account. Looking through old emails, I've apparently had it since mid-2007. Who knew?

I honestly have no memory of creating the account. Signing up for a social networking site doesn't sound like something I would do while drunk, so I guess I'll just chalk it up to my incredibly short attention span. I'm sure it seemed like a great idea at the time, either to supplement the blog or just a way to follow other people who had Twitter accounts, but then I guess I was suddenly distracted by something shiny and forgot all about it.

I have mixed feelings on the people who use Twitter. When used effectively, it can be a fun, convenient way of communicating with friends, people with similar interests, or minor celebrities looking for attention. And for a blogger, it's the perfect way to write about stuff that wouldn't otherwise warrant an entire entry. (Seriously, if you have a blog, you need to get one of these. I feel like a sucker now for having written all those blog posts longer than 140 characters.)

But when abused, it takes narcissism to a ridiculous new level. Poking around the site, you find plenty of accounts along these lines:

In car, heading home. - 5 seconds ago
In line, waiting to pay. - 2 minutes ago
Hey, what's up with broccoli? Am I right??? - 4 minutes ago
Trying to find eggs that aren't broken. - 7 minutes ago
Getting ham. - 9 minutes ago
Driving to grocery store. - 13 minutes ago
Think I'll go to grocery store. - 17 minutes ago

Granted, anyone who has a blog or Twitter account has a healthy amount of narcissism. ("I'm going to type stuff and people will want to read it! Yay!") But when people get bogged down in detailing such minutia, I really wonder about their grasp on reality. Surely no one thinks that everything they do is fascinating to the world at large, do they?

Anyway, here's my Twitter page. Or you can follow along with the widget I've added on the right. Once the initial fascination wears off, I have no idea if there'll be a couple of tweets a day or a couple of tweets a week, but I can guarantee there won't be one tweet a minute, which is apparently more than a lot of Twitterers can promise.

Tales From the Netflix Crypt

This week's reviews: Santa's Slay, Camp Slaughter, and Return to Sleepaway Camp



Santa's Slay (2005)
Directed by David Steiman

Plot: It turns out that Santa's actually an evil demon who only gives gifts to children because he had to do so for a thousand years after losing a bet with an angel. Well, the thousand years are up.

Comments: The idea of an evil Santa Claus has been overdone in recent years, but this film manages to squeeze a bit more juice out of it. Not much, but enough to make a fairly satisfying flick.

Writer/director Steiman seems to have discovered the perfect way to grab people's attention right off the bat, if you have the connections to pull it off: have a bunch of known actors make cameos and quickly kill them off. Now, most of them weren't exactly impressive grabs. After all, it's not like Fran Drescher, Chris Kattan, or Rebecca Gayheart probably had anything better to do. But then...James Caan appears! Fucking James Caan! Sure, it's the James Caan who starred in Las Vegas, as opposed to the in-his-prime James Caan from The Godfather. But still! James Caan! In a movie called Santa's Slay! Wild.

Anyway, after the famous folk are quickly offed, the real movie begins. Plot-wise, it's nothing special. It's basically a sneering, homicidal Santa chasing two teenagers through their small town, killing people along the way via various holiday-inspired methods. But the cast sells it, including Robert Culp, Dave Thomas, a pre-Lost Emilie de Ravin, and doing a surprisingly decent job, Goldberg the wrestler as Santa.

Wisely, the film never takes itself too seriously. Not when Santa's buffalo (yeah, buffalo instead of reindeer) eats a valet outside of a strip club, not when a flashback is shown in the same sort of stop motion animation as that old Rudolph special, and certainly not when the fate of the world comes down to a curling match.

As far as Christmastime horror flicks go, it's no Silent Night, Deadly Night, but it is a notch above a lot of the other films in that particular subgenre. It probably helps to watch it around the holidays, but I guess there's really no time when it isn't fun to watch Santa murdering people.

Script: B-
Acting: B
Gore: C+
Overall: B-




Camp Slaughter (2005)
Directed by Alex Pucci

Plot: A group of friends go through a time warp and end up back in 1981, where they find themselves stuck in a slasher film that begins anew every night.

Comments: This was a really frustrating film to watch, because the basic plot is fucking great. Seriously, it's absolute genius, and considering all the attempts at horror film deconstruction, I'm amazed no one thought of it before. This really had the potential to be a fantastic film, right up there with Scream and Behind the Mask. Unfortunately, in the end, the meager budget and cast couldn't pull it off.

The filmmakers did a great job of recreating the look and feel of the early 80s, from the hairstyles to the (shudder) men wearing belly shirts. The script probably lays it on a bit thick with the 80s-speak (I don't remember people saying "rad" nearly as much as they do in the film, but then again, in 1981, I was learning how to read, not hanging out at summer camp), but for the most part, they get it right.

Where they got it wrong was pretty much everything else. The acting is terrible. The dialogue is pretty weak (and again, isn't helped by the people speaking it). The attempts at gore, valiant though they were, were lousy. And at the end, there's a fairly significant twist as the characters discover what's really going on, but neither the actors nor the script really do a good job of selling it.

Had this film come from bigger studio with a better cast, a larger FX budget, and a polished script, this could have been one of the better horror entries of the past few years. As it stands, it's a good effort, but ultimately a let-down.

Script: B
Acting: D+
Gore: C
Overall: C+





Return to Sleepaway Camp (2008)
Directed by Robert Hiltzik

Plot: Everyone's favorite transsexual slasher is back! Or is she? Er...he. Whatever.

Comments: The original Sleepaway Camp is one of those films that horror geeks speak of with reverence, but for the most part, the general public has never heard of. Which is fine, as it makes for a great horror geek shibboleth, in the unlikely event the need for one should ever arise: Which horror film has the greatest final shot? If he or she says Sleepaway Camp, you know they're cool.

There were two sequels made back in the 80s. Sleepaway Camp II wasn't half-bad. Sleepaway Camp III was pretty awful. And it's rarely a good sign when a film franchise is resurrected after sitting dormant for 20 years, so I wasn't expecting much from Return to Sleepaway Camp, and for the first little while, it doesn't give you much.

Imagine if Eric Cartman was the main character in a horror film. At first, we watch him run around and be annoying and we wonder when someone's going to kill the little fuck. But then it slowly dawns on you..."Holy shit, is he actually supposed to be the hero?" And I guess technically, he's not, but he's probably the closest the film has to having a hero, since the camp is filled with the cruelest, nastiest kids and counselors you can imagine. So cruel, and so nasty, in fact, I actually felt somewhat uncomfortable watching it. I mean, people really don't act like this. Even in movies.

Anyway, the film follows the formula of the previous films to the letter, as most of those cruel, nasty people are picked off one by one in really grisly ways by a mysterious killer. Could it be Angela, the transsexual killer from the first three films? Well, yeah, otherwise it wouldn't be a Sleepaway Camp film. But for some reason, the film tries to be coy about this, which gets really irritating before too long.

Were it not for some entertaining death scenes, this would be a fairly dire experience, but the creativity that was present in the previous films is still around here (death by bunk bed, death by hot grease, death by penis getting ripped off by a jeep, to name a few), and the reveal at the end is decent, so it's probably worth a rental. Just be ready to make liberal use of the fast forward button to speed through the non-killing parts.

Script: C+
Acting: C
Gore: A-
Overall: C-

Panel of the Week

From Justice Society of America #22:

First round NFL playoff picks

10-6 last week; 122-131 for the season

Atlanta at Arizona (+2): Atlanta

Philadelphia at Minnesota (+3): Philadelphia

Indianapolis at San Diego (Push): Indianapolis

Baltimore at Miami (+3.5): Baltimore

The morning after

This photo is of either:

A) Two empty champagne bottles meticulously placed by, rather than in, a trashcan for recycling purposes, an example of Georgetown class.

or

B) Two empty champagne bottles left by a trashcan, because their owners were too drunk and/or lazy to put them in, an example of Georgetown degeneracy.

I like to think it's the former, but based on the New Year's I spent in Georgetown a couple of years ago, I strongly suspect it's the latter.