Friday, May 20, 2005
Movies I Have No Intention of Seeing, #7
Dominion: Prequel to 'The Exorcist'
starring: Hahahahahahaha! (and Satan)
directed by: Aaaahahahahahahaha!
Hey, did everyone see the picture of Saddam Hussein in nowt but his chonies?
[I wanted to post it directly but PhotoBucket is being a contrarian son-of-a-bitch right now, so you'll have to make do with this link.]
Now you have. I'm sure there are better images of them floating around on the internets, but I had to include the shot of the Sun (UK)'s cover complete with awesome, awesome headline. The pose and everything is absolutely classic. It's very department-store-catalogue. I think that must be why this picture stirs in me a deep, unrecognized need to buy a watch. Or perhaps a nice pair of khakis.
The main thing I'm worried about is that this could backfire. Saddam is such an obviously sexy bitch, he's sure to inspire all kinds of rage and frustration among the closeted Muslim gay male community. Think of the alternating waves of animal lust and crippling shame they'll feel after exposure to this surly hunk of man-beast drives them into an involuntary and entirely verboten sexual frenzy. They'll be lining up by the dozens to volunteer for suicide missions if only for the release--any kind of release--it promises.
From the lightness of suicide bombers we move to the easy late-spring frivolity of sexual abuse by priests. The Diocese of Orange (as in Orange County) was busted by the OC Register newspaper with evidence of a pattern of conspiracy to cover up sexual abuse by 14 priests and one choir director.
Covering up for the 14 priests I kind of get. That has a kind of fucked-up, totally inexcusable logical consistency to it. But the choir director? The diocese is going to put it's neck out there to protect a goddamn choir director? Fuck, these people can't even abuse their power properly. Trying to look inside the heads of the institution doing the covering-up, you can extrapolate the retarded reasoning they have for protecting their black-hearted child-molesting brethren, the same tired bullshit about protecting the church and blah blah blah.
But the choir director? He gets hit in the face with a brick. Actually if it's up to me, the priests get hit in the face with a brick too, but then that's the answer to all life's worries. Guy with 17 items in the 15-item-or-less express line at the grocery store? Brick in the face. Forget the barbecue sauce for my kid's Chicken McNuggets at the drive-thru? Brick in the face. Mom gets me Best O' Boingo for my birthday when I specifically asked for Boingo Alive? Brick in the face.
I suppose congratulations are in order for the Orange County Register for breaking this story. It's a testament to their dogged determination, their crack investigative reporting staff, their gruff-but-loveable editors as played by Jason Robards, their... um... their...
OK, the attorney for the plaintiff in the case against the diocese accidentally mailed the damning documents to the paper directly. Way to write it up though, Register.
In sort of local news, very briefly, 11 out of 16 from the floor, 27 points, 18 years, 1,533 games all with the same team, Riverside Poly High School's own Reggie Miller played his last NBA game last night when his team was eliminated by the Detroit Pistons from the playoffs last night. Nice. Thanks a lot, Reg. Leave us with nothing, go ahead. The only other high-profile athlete with Riverside ties left is Barry Bonds (he was born here, I believe) and he's an asshole. Fine, fine whatever. Think only of yourself.
In other local news, this might be my last post ever as I intend to die of heat stroke this weekend. It's supposed to reach 100 degrees Sunday, the day we already ordered the inflatable bouncy-house for my kid's birthday party. Guess who's gonna be standing over the burning, greasy, flaming grill cooking for everyone! So keep an eye on your news tickers, people. You're looking for "Riverside, CA man bursts into flame in backyard".
Just in case the worst comes to pass, I have loved you all in my own special way, the way a junkie loves his smack. Sure, I hate you and curse you because you ruin my life, but if I'm away from you all for too long, I throw up. That's love, people.
Oh yeah, there was that movie. I don't want to see it. Also, worst title fiasco since the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim.
Pleh. No Shue for you.