Okay, first of all, I’d like to pull back the curtain on my most articulate of commenters. Yesterday, you all may have noticed an extremely erudite and verbose comment in my sock drawer that dealt extensively with the retardation and active retarding of the evolution of modern thought vis a vis contemporary English. You remember what I’m talking about, right? It was long and pretty funny. The poster’s name was rjk and then some numbers, so like rjk23345, or something like that. Not that his name’s terribly important, just trying to paint a picture.
Well, I went back to check that little essay out again in the harsh sober dawn, and it turns out the author erased it. Seems he’s too good to have his wordy little rants immortalized here on the sock drawer. What happened rjk32245? Your essay was being met with critical acclaim by all the biggest names and brightest stains in the drawer. Did you get nervous? Caught in the spotlight? Icarus complex? Felt the pressure to top that post with another one that’s even better? Look, I’m no stranger to the dangers and fears that accompany massive adulation. Believe me. I’m quite popular. But erasing your footprint is never the answer, rjk23423. That only serves to undermine your most basic of instincts to preserve remnants of yourself long after you’ve gone. Now, I’m no fancy big city lawyer, (that’s my favorite way to start a sentence by the way, and this is a surprise twist way to end it>) but rjk234523 is. I know this because he’s my little brother. No shit. That K at the end of RJK stands for Kelly. Believe that, assholes.
Anyhoo, right now, he’s got his panty hose socks and snakeskin shoes up on his mahogany desk and he’s sipping brandy from a snifter (like a mad homo, yo!) and he’s thinking to himself “damn you, handsome yet unsuccessful bohemian brother, for calling out my hubris and subsequent attack of humility! I should have you written out of the old man’s will!” And he could, too. He’s a powerful bigshot. Hey, how do you think I’ve avoided jail all these years, eh? That’s right assholes. I’ve got people on the inside. Anyway, I’d just like to point out that he’s obviously the smarter of the two of us (told you, asshole!) and he’s the one who erased his comment, not me. Last night he told me that he gets told that he looks like a less attractive howie mandel, which I don’t see, but I wonder if he’s ever really had someone say that to his face. World may never know. Okay, moving on.
Have you dipshits seen this show “locked up abroad”? It’s the single greatest re-enactment series of all time. Here’s why: every single show is about drugs. It starts off with some dumb young Brit/American/Canadian/white person just partying somewhere and they take the time to make the people actually look like younger, more attractive versions of the people who are retelling the story, AND they take the time to make the partying look legitimately fun. SO, here’s this woman, narrating her tale of snorting coke in the bars on the beach in Goa and getting fucked six ways from Sunday by a bunch of filthy dreadlocked backpackers, and they’ve got this girl who looks like the woman, but hotter and younger (cuz, you know, it’s before her prison term), reenacting all of this. Then she gets into smuggling. THEN she gets busted. THEN she goes to jail in India and THEN!!!!!!! She stays there for years and then they show the footage of them actually getting reunited with their families. It’s awesome. It’s everything I love: hot slutty young people making bad decisions, peeks into foreign jails, hilarious hindsight and subsequent self immolation (sound familiar rjk235?) and finally, great tips on what sets off the people who bust smugglers. SO, if you want to internationally traffic cocaine or hashish, I’d say there’s no better place to start than tivoing locked up abroad. It’s really a great show.
Okay, what else? Avatar, right? I saw that shit the other day. Man, oh man. It sucks. It’s the most manipulative, shitty, emotionally bankrupt piece of garbage I’ve maybe ever seen in my life. I mean (spoiler alert!) what a dumb fucking movie. Have you seen the matrix? Have you seen dances with wolves? Have you ever wondered what would happen if the two of them were seamlessly combined in the best looking video game of all time? Well, wonder no more, because Avatar is here to answer the question that no one wanted to waste time asking.
Now, don’t get me wrong. It’s absolutely fucking stunning to watch. I completely dig why people are flipping out over it, but man, really? They’re literally invoking 9-11 imagery, they’ve got bad guys getting hearts of gold, a cripple with a chance to walk again, a guy that dies and is reanimated by the love of a woman, pets dying, the spurned ex lover finally realizing that his romantic rival may be a bigger, better man than he credited him with initially, all sorts of bullshit white man/native dynamics, expository dialog that is so shameless that I was literally SHOCKED (example: “I don’t want you on this mission. I want your dead twin brother, the PHD who studied this project for three years. You’re just a dumb marine.”) and enough beautifully unrealizable cgi bodies to give even the most confident person cause to consider barfing up lunch a few times a week.
In short, you gotta see it. I’m in no way done talking Avatar with you people, but I have to go to work right now, so I’ll pick this up tomorrow.