I am a Suppressive Person

I just read that Isaac Hayes has asked to be released from his South Park contract, citing the series's religious discrimination. Apparently, he feels that it has tipped over into bigotry. Strangely enough, he didn't seem to mind back when they did their episode about the Catholic church child abuse scandal or when they did their scathing critique of Mormonism. No, instead, it comes soon after their lampooning of Scientology, a "religion" of which Hayes is a follower. (The Mormons are probably relieved that there is a group out there with beliefs even whackier than their own.) I suppose Hayes was considered a "Potential Trouble Source" because he was associating with the "Suppressive Persons" who write and produce South Park. What an efficient cult they are.

For more info on the Church of Scientology, I recommend reading this Rolling Stone article. It is quite in-depth and completely fascinating. What I can't get over is how people get suckered into this thing, anyway. I mean, the man who invented it made his living by making stuff up. Even the whole backstory sounds like a shitty sci-fi novel. It boggles the mind that people can be so gullible and don't see through this hogwash. I suppose some of you might think I'm behaving like a bigot, and in a way, you are correct. I am prejudiced against all kinds of rampant stupidity and the people who engage in it.

UltraViolet movie review

Before I get on with this review, I will ask a few multiple choice questions:

1. If you wanted to protect a building, what type of weapon would you give to your security detail?
1. Automatic firearms
2. Semi-automatic firearms
3. Swords or some other hand-to-hand combat weapon


2. Supposing you’re a guard armed with a machine gun and a lone hostile intruder enters a room, how would you proceed to attack them?
1. Stand where you are, take precise aim, and fire.
2. Seek cover, take precise aim, and fire.
3. Run at the attacker, throwing off your aim and placing yourself in danger.


3. How do you light a sword on fire?
1. Douse the blade with a flammable substance and use a Zippo to ignite
2. I’m too lazy to come up with a second choice.
3. Just scrape it along the floor to shoot up some sparks, because the metal is flammable in and of itself.

If you answered C to all of these questions, chances are, you’re Kurt Wimmer, the writer and director of UltraViolet. The trailer for this movie should have featured Mr. Voice’s rumbling basso voice saying, “In a world…where people do things because they look cool and not because they make a lick of sense…” That would have summed this whole thing up quite nicely.

Kurt Wimmer’s previous film was a little-seen gem known as Equilibrium, which wasn’t good because of how it was written. Its plot was basically a rehash of every futuristic dystopian sci-fi story you’ve ever heard mixed with a healthy dose of John Woo’s The Killer. What made it stand apart were two things, 1) the stellar cast (including Christian Bale, Emily Watson, Taye Diggs, Angus McFayden, and Sean Bean) and 2) the unbelievably cool gunfights which used a technique I’d never seen before. This technique, called gun-kata, was a mix of martial arts and…well…guns ¹. Unfortunately, I think a lot of people just saw it as more or less a Matrix wannabe, and dismissed it outright. It’s too bad, since, as derivative as the story was, at least it was making the effort to be about something².

UltraViolet unfortunately doesn’t make that attempt. In fact, I’m not even sure it had a plot. There was some background material laid down in a rushed and confusing manner that I think was intended to be plot, but it was hard to tell. Apparently, Milla Jovovich plays a woman who was infected by some kind of virus that was developed by the government(?) to make people into super-soldiers. While it increased the subjects’ strength and agility, it also turned them into vampires…sort of. The virus became extremely contagious and began infecting large portions of the population, and the government tried to exterminate them all. Naturally, the “hemophages” (as they’re referred to) didn’t like this idea, so they decided to fight back.

I’m not entirely certain why the government decides that the hemophages are so dangerous. While there is one reference to the hemophages drinking blood, there is no other indication given that they ever do this. None of the hemophage characters ever feed, nor do they talk about it, so it really doesn’t seem like being a hemophage is all that bad. After all, they don’t seem to be susceptible to sunlight, plus there’s the aforementioned strength and agility augmentation. The only problem I really saw is that their canine teeth became a bit bigger, but I would imagine you’d get over that. So why should people be so concerned if they’re becoming infected? But I digress.

Violet (Jovovich) poses as a courier to infiltrate a lab where a bio-weapon has been developed that will kill all hemophages. After she is discovered, she must fight her way out of the facility. This doesn’t seem to be too difficult, as the guards there are mostly armed with electrified batons and have body armor that is made out of brittle plastic that shatters like glass. Even the guards who have guns behave as though they’re armed with melee weapons as they (as implied above) constantly run towards Violet rather than keep a safe distance and shoot at her. The whole thing culminates with an incredibly silly chase where Violet uses a device that enables her motorcycle to drive up the sides of buildings. It might have been kind of neat to watch if the special effects hadn’t been so bad. Plus, the fact that Violet’s hair and leather outfit keep changing color for no discernable reason is distracting.

Although Violet has been expressly forbidden to open the case she stole, she does so anyway. Inside, she finds a sleeping boy, portrayed by Cameron Bright (Godsend, Birth), whose career will probably end when he’s too old to play creepy kids. Her conscience gets the best of her, and rather than let her hemophage clients kill the kid, she runs off with him. (Wimmer probably felt this motivation could be explained by revealing in the prologue that she’d been pregnant before being infected. It doesn’t.) This means that both the hemophages and the government³ are after her, and the rest of the movie is a series of tiresome action sequences punctuated by people telling Violet that what she’s doing is suicide.

If the action sequences had at least been as entertaining as those in Equilibrium I might have been able to at least say the movie was okay. Unfortunately, most of them are mind-numbingly stupid. One of the most memorable is a scene where Violet is surrounded by a couple dozen armed Yakuza-esque hemophages with pistols. Her way of getting out of the situation is by ducking, weaving and occasionally hitting them so that they shoot each other. This is all captured with overly gimmicky shots where the camera will zoom in on the reflection in a person’s sunglasses and then zoom in on the reflection within the reflection and so on.

By the end, Wimmer decides to spare the audience a lot of watching Violet wade through countless henchmen and just shows the aftermath of these fights. In the meantime, though, we still get a lot of this, and it just gets more and more ridiculous. As discussed above, many of Violet’s attackers are armed with swords. I kept trying to come up with some kind of explanation as to why anyone would arm guards with swords when A) machine guns are readily available, and B) the person they are attacking has machine guns. That said, why would Violet oblige them by putting her guns away and using her own sword on them? Am I to believe that she is so honorable that she’d want to make it a more fair fight? Well, I suppose I’m trying to apply logic to something it can’t be applied to.

The final showdown between Violet and the main bad guy Draxus⁴ defies logic with such audacity that I thought for a second I’d fallen asleep and was dreaming that part of the movie⁵. Draxus reveals that he is indeed a hemophage himself, which begs the question as to why he has spent the movie wearing latex gloves, using guns that have been sterilized and sealed in plastic bags, and breathing through nasal filters that look like a couple thimbles shoved into his nostrils. Also, unlike Violet, his infection gave him the ability to see in the dark, so he cuts out all the light in the room. To address the third question in my multiple choice quiz, this is where Violet demonstrates the innate flammability of the sword she carries by scraping it on the ground and igniting the blade with the sparks it throws up. And this sword is completely on fire. Flames billow from this thing for the next minute or so with no sign of it possibly going out in the near future⁶. She uses it to chop Draxus in half lengthwise, and that’s more or less the end of the movie.

I realize that I have just written about three pages (in Microsoft Word) about this movie, and it’s far more than it deserves, but I just had to record this movie’s badness. (True, the movie itself is a far stronger document, but I imagine reading this takes far shorter than the 85 minutes it takes to watch the movie.) This is the worst movie I’ve seen this year and it’s definitely worse than anything I saw in 2005. (Yes, it’s even worse than Doom.) I can only hope that this is some sort of bizarre fluke for Kurt Wimmer, and that he can give us something as entertaining as Equilibrium as his next film. If not, then he will have used up the last ounce of good will I have for him, and I will be forced to start asking for bloody retribution.

In short, don’t watch UltraViolet.

1. It could be argued that it was just something that looked cool and was impractical in the real world, but there was a quick explanation about how it made the user more difficult to hit. It may not stand up to much scrutiny, but I could buy it for 105 minutes. Back

2. Its message that all emotions are worth having, even the negative ones, is pretty trite, I know, but we live in an age where movies don’t even seem to want to put that much thought into what they say. Besides, having a trite message didn’t keep Crash from winning any fewer Oscars. Back

3. Once again, I’m not entirely sure I’m getting that right. They actually look to be some kind of biotech corporation, but they also behave as though they govern the country. Back

4. Anyone who names their child this must dream that they’ll one day grow up to become a supervillain. Back

5. I actually came very close to falling asleep through most of the last hour of the movie, so that’s why it wasn’t that hard to believe that I had. Back

6. I imagine Wimmer imagined this would be a way to one-up the opening gunfight of Equilibrium, which was lit entirely by muzzle flares. The difference is that the former was cool; this was decidedly not. Back

Support the troops? Part II

What is the world coming to when you can't even count on the right-wing nutjobs to support the men and women risking their lives in Iraq? I've just come upon this article on CNN's website about a family of fundamentalist Christian protestors who picket the funerals of American soldiers because "the soldiers are fighting for an army that represents a country that accepts homosexuality." You know, I'd really like to live in this fantasy version of the USA they seem to think exists. After all, I live in a state that voted to make gay marriage illegal. Yep, nothing says acceptance more than trying to outlaw someone's lifestyle. Hell, even the notoriously liberal Hollywood played it safe and opted not to give Brokeback Mountain the Academy Award for Best Picture.*

Another favorite passage of mine is where the patriarch of this clan of wackos, Baptist minister Fred Phelps, says of his preaching style, "You can't preach the Bible without preaching the hatred of God." I must admit, I'm not the most well-versed in theology, but I'd always gotten the impression that Christianity was almost like the hippie religion with its constant talk of peace and love. (Okay, maybe calling it a "hippie religion" is a bit over the top, but I'm just trying to make a point.) Could a real Bible scholar please help me out and let me know if Jesus at any point ever said that any group of people should be hated?

I can't get over what a leap in logic this whole endeavor is, either. As despicable as it is, I can at least see how protesting the funerals of homosexuals would make sense to the twisted minds of the hatemongers. I imagine this is more about trying to stir up controversy than anything else. In this way, they're not just offending the sensibilities of liberals and left-leaning moderates, but also a lot of the right-wing psychos who would normally be on their side. This way, their message is brought to the attention of far more people than it would have otherwise. Obviously, it's not going to work. I can only hope that this will also cause some of the less insane homophobes to evaluate their own beliefs and realize just how ridiculously they've behaved over the years.

Oh, yeah, and what these assholes also seem to be forgetting is that these soldiers gave their lives in service to a country that gives people the right to publically express their opinions, even if those opinions are completely stupid and wrong. If there is a Hell, I wonder if Fred Phelps is going there.

*Not that it necessarily deserved it. It was certainly better than Crash, and I wouldn't have minded if it had won, but I think Good Night, and Good Luck. and Munich were the two best nominees. Back

Good thing I didn't have plans this weekend.

The last time I had vomited was almost six years ago. I had gotten food poisoning from something or other, and it first came on like a bad case of acid reflux. I went to work anyway but soon found myself hanging onto the toilet for dear life. Thankfully, my co-worker Andrea stepped up to the plate and covered for the rest of my shift. I then spent the next few days in the hospital. Since then, I’d been on yet another streak. That was until my roommate John went and got himself a viral infection he passed on to me.

Friday started like any other day. I woke up, jogged, showered, left for work. I went through much of the day, feeling just fine. It wasn’t until I was halfway through my Stouffer’s dinner of fettuccini alfredo with chicken that my stomach started acting up. Of course, my first thought was, “Oh, no! John gave me his sickness!” but I tried to deny it for as long as I could. Somehow, I managed to go through the rest of the day, but the feeling kept getting worse. I even ran to the newsstand in the building and picked up a bottle of Pepto Bismol in a vain attempt to quell the madness.

I left slightly early and drove home on one flat tire. (I wasn’t actually aware that that was the problem at the time, but I knew something was wrong.) I was dreadfully afraid that I wouldn’t make it home in time, either because my stomach would decide that it was just time or my car would become undriveable and then my stomach would decide that it was just time. But my will power held, and as soon as I made it into the house, I went to the bathroom and evacuated my stomach of my undigested lunch, the Pepto Bismol and most of the water I’d drunk since about one o’clock that afternoon.

I felt better at first, but that didn’t last long as the fever set in fairly quickly. And the achiness which I’m sure was a result of the dehydration. I struggled into the bedroom, changed into some sweats, and covered up in a heavy quilt. I was shivering like crazy and couldn’t really move due to the aches. This made drinking water a bit difficult. Moving hurt, and I didn’t want to take my arm out from under the covers. Eventually, though, at around 10:00 PM, I realized that I could use some medical attention.

Since no one else was home, I drove myself to Lakewood Hospital’s Express Care Center. (This is only a couple blocks away from my house, so I wasn’t endangering other drivers for more than a few minutes. Oh, and this was still on a flat tire.) I seemed to have lucked out, as there wasn’t anyone else in the waiting room except for a group of people who were there for a family member or friend. I was seen by a doctor in next to no time, and he started me on an IV drip of saline solution to rehydrate me. (They had done the same thing when I had food poisoning, and it had worked wonders, so I was pulling for him to recommend it.) My heart was also racing, so they figured that would probably help to lower its rate.

The last time I was in the hospital, I had a couple songs that cycled ruthlessly through my head. The first was “Down Once More…/Track Down This Murderer” from The Phantom of the Opera. The next day, Comedy Central was showing Arthur, so Christopher Cross’s “Arthur’s Theme (The Best That You Can Do)” was stuck in my brain. Last night, it was Kanye West’s “Gold Digger” and “I Missed Again” by Phil Collins. (The reason for the latter was because I had just gotten over a cold earlier this week, so I was sick again. I then started singing to myself, “Or am I sick again?/I think I’m sick again./Uh-hu-uh./Oh-oh, I’m sick again, uh-uh-uh-huh…” and so on. Not really sure where "Gold Digger" came from.)

The doctor came back at one point and told me that the blood test they had taken showed a high white cell count. He then said the words I had been dreading hearing; “Would you mind if I took a throat culture?”

“Yes, I really would,” I replied. He looked a little shocked by this reply, as though no one had dared resist this idea before. “Throat cultures are one of my least favorite things in the world,” I went on to explain. But of course, I knew that it had to be done. “How many do you have to take?” I asked, since it appeared as though he had brought more than one swab.

“Two.”

“Shit.”

I opened my mouth as wide as I could and said, “Aaaahhh…” but as soon as that thing hit my esophagus, I began to gag and close up. He didn’t get the culture, so I had to do it again. That time, he kind of got it, but wasn’t entirely sure. He took the second, which seemed to go better, but still had the same traumatic effect. I was feeling charitable, though, so I asked him if he wanted to take a third just to be sure he got it. Like a champ, I let him jam the swab down my throat. To those of you who can take a throat culture without gagging, I salute you. (And to those of you who can take a throat culture without gagging and are women, let me give you my phone number…¹)

The throat culture came back negative, so I guess it didn’t need to be done. Assholes.

I drifted in and out of sleep for the next couple hours, being awakened both by a shrilly crying baby and a guy in the next room who was snoring like my dad². At one point, a nurse came in to give me two Tylenol tablets for the fever and aches, which I’m sure will cost about $5 per pill. Later on, she gave me Motrin, which probably added another $10. She had me take it with some ginger ale. (Probably about $3, and it was just one of those single serving thingies.)³

Roundabouts two o’clock in the AM, the nurse came in to give me a flu test. I’m not precisely sure why that hadn't been the first order of business instead of the strep test, since I didn’t have a sore throat and the doctor hadn’t seen any signs when he looked at my tonsils. Nevertheless, it was the second choice, and I was just relieved that they didn’t have to take another throat culture. Instead, she jammed the swab up my nose farther than anything should ever go. In case you’re wondering, it hurt. A lot. It also caused my eyes to water like a leaky faucet and my mucus production to increase one-hundred-fold.

After about ninety minutes, I discovered that this test’s results also turned out to be negative. So I apparently had some kind of miscellaneous viral infection, which meant that they couldn’t really do too much for me. Thankfully, the IV bags and pain relievers had managed to make me feel much, much better. My heart rate had also finally started to slow, so they assured me that I’d be allowed to leave soon. In the meantime, I watched Mr. Show and Bravo’s Ultimate Superheroes countdown show⁴ (narrated by Adam West; love that guy).

I ended up being discharged around four o’clock that morning. I drove home, called my parents to let them know I was alright⁵, and crashed into bed.

I feel pretty good now. My stomach is still kind of blecch-y, but at least I can hold stuff down. Oh, and I got my car fixed today. Bless those folks at Lucas Auto Center on Madison who keep such great hours.

1. I wish to apologize to any readers I have offended with this comment, but I thought it was pretty damn funny. Back

2. To those of you who have never heard my dad snore, he’s really loud. Back

3. I hope to God those figures are truly just humorous exaggerations (or just exaggerations, if you didn’t find them all that funny). Back

4. I swear, Bravo and VH1 should team up and form a station called The List Show Channel. They’re fun and all, but man, isn’t there other programming they can devote their time to?Back

5. I had already called them earlier before I left for the hospital, so they were expecting a call from me.Back

The Left Lane Is For Passing!!!

Ever since I moved to the Northeast Ohio area about two-and-a-half years ago, I noticed a strange and somewhat disturbing trend. Now, I don’t know if it’s like this all over Ohio and I somehow just managed not to notice it, but I definitely notice it now, and it sticks in my craw.*

This morning, I was driving to work, and I took the Shoreway (aka OH-2), as I normally do. I tend to accelerate faster than other folk, although many times, I’ll make myself top out at a slower speed than those who were behind me. In this case, there was a white van in back of me, the driver of which very obviously wanted to go faster than I. For some reason, however, despite the fact that the left lane was perfectly clear—with no sign of any approaching traffic, no less—the driver decided to keep following me semi-close. (By this, I mean far enough away so as not to be tailgating, but still fairly close.) After continuing on this way for about two miles, I pulled into the left lane, at which point the white van proceeded to pass me.

But that’s not the end of the story. I stay in the left lane, and about a mile later, there’s another car that is traveling at an even slower rate than mine. The white van pulls into the righthand lane to pass this slower car, despite the fact that, once again, the left lane was perfectly clear. (He would have had a good several seconds to slip into the lane before I would have caught up with him.) Had I not lived in Cleveland for as long as I have, this would have astounded me, but I’ve noticed this over the last two-and-a-half years that I’ve been here.

Why is it that Northeast Ohioans have an aversion to passing people by using the lefthand lane? This lane is often called the “passing lane” by many, so I would imagine that it is mostly used for that purpose. Instead, drivers will follow behind, as if to see whether the person in front of them will speed up. At first, I thought that perhaps it was some sort of gesture of courtesy, but that was immediately nixed when I noticed the whole passing-on-the-right thing. Are people here just taught different rules when they attend driver’s ed?

So, to anyone who reads this, the next time you’re in the right or middle lane, and you get behind someone who is going slower than you, put on your turn signal and get into the lane immediately to the left (providing, of course, there aren’t any other cars in your way). This way, you get to maintain your speed, the driver in front of you isn’t wondering why you don’t just pass him/her and have done with it, and both of you go on about your way merrily.

*I believe the craw is located in a bodily region near your druthers, but don’t quote me on that. Back