How I would have made the prequels.

I love the hell out of Harry S. Plinkett’s reviews of the Star Wars prequels. Early on in his review of Revenge Of The Sith, he feints and hooks so well. You think he is going to make the obvious “they spelled shit wrong” joke. And what he actually says had me nearly dying of laughter.

Ed Wood. The man, his films, and their meanings.

I will say this much to start with: I am a fan of the films of Ed Wood. In fact, Ed Wood‘s work can be considered a reason to be grateful for the joys of home video and film preservation. Without either of those things, we, the plebs of the later twentieth and early twenty-first century would not be able to enjoy his work. But this also provokes a myriad of questions. Like every celebrity that walks or walked an unusual path, Ed Wood‘s work and life prompts a number of questions that one can learn from by answering.

Illusions of life, celebrity, and society, part whatever of millions

As I believe much of the trimmings make clear, I started this journal with one very specific purpose in mind. To add my voice and perspective to the so-called debate about autism civil rights. I say so-called debate because as any person who pays attention to the proper meanings of words can tell you, debate implies something. It implies that there are two (or more) sides to the argument, and both have a certain amount of demonstrable merit.

More reflections on RoboCop (aka Paul Verhoeven is awesome, part three of eleventy billion multiplied by the square root of the distance between where I sit and Proxima Centaurii)

So after I published my previous writing about the subject of the most awesome film that has ever been made (and likely will be made, at least during my lifetime), I began to think to myself. I have really not begun to describe why it is so incredibly, utterly, mind-blowingly awesome, at least not on a level that fans can appreciate.

Star Trek II: The Wrath Of Khan is still the best Trek film. Live with it, Abrams fans.

I am unsure which film I first saw in the theatres after moving to my present location. It may well have been the third Transporter film, which would be ironic considering that it has the exact same problem that Abrams‘ “reboot” of Star Trek has.

Our language: context, tone, and intent all mean something

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. In my previous post, I began to speak about an event that Lydia Brown shared with us on her Fudgebook page in which she was told what words she means. As often happens, writing about this topic caused me to descend into a rage, so I decided to abandon the subject for the time being and instead begin an essay about some of the basics of our language. It is in the hope that some normalistic assholes out there can read it and learn that maybe they do not know everything, and do not deserve to be the sole arbiters of right or wrong.

Crank: High Voltage (aka Mike Patton is a genius, part two)

So one of my unforgiveable hobbies, as it turns out, is to watch films that offer a perspective on the world that is not coincidental with the Everyone Is A Child nonsense coming out of mainstream media’s mouth. And one of the best examples of this is a fun little piece called Crank: High Voltage. Crank: High Voltage is a sequel to Crank, a film I did not really enjoy that much until after I saw Crank: High Voltage. More on that in a moment.