Obligatory Halloween Post Walks Among Us!

Greetings, Fear Fiends!

Not long after the events detailed in my very first Halloween blog entry I had an opportunity to step up to the Big Leagues and watch a real, bonafide, adult, R-rated horror movie. A movie that my trusty horror tomes had warned me about:

In Horrors: A History of Horror Movies Tom Hutchinson and Roy Pickard wrote that this film "gave a whole new impetus to the monster-making industry" and is "one of the goriest of all such horror stories". They go on to say that this flick "proved that there were now no limits or restrains on the special effects department" and that all that matters is that the film-makers the "reduced audiences to quivering jellies".

In The Encyclopedia of Horror Hutchinson (co-incidentally) wrote: "the monster here is barely seen: all we know about it is that it is growing all the time, and that it needs flesh."  

And in Horror Films Nigel Andrews decreed that "its not too fanciful to see echoes of Vietnam in the guerrilla-style horrors" as the titular creature "ambushes the crew one by one and eats them". He goes on to say that the beast is "a master of camouflage. It hides in dark corners, it borrows color and textures from its surroundings, and it shocks the life out of us near the end by uncoiling from the very pipes and wires of a spaceship wall."

Naturally I was sold but how was I going to see it? The film was last in theaters back in 1979 when I was but a wee lad of only nine summers; way too young to sneak into our local theater. In the early Eighties home video was still in its infancy and to make matters worse we lived in a podunk town where everyone knew everyone else's bidness. In other words, there was little chance that I'd be able to rent it surreptitiously.

The answer came in the form of a prime-time television showing back around 1982 or so. I was only about twelve at the time so I needed special dispensation from my parents to stay up late and watch the thing.

"Is it one of them scary movies?" Mom quizzed, remembering the havoc that Night of the Living Dead and Poltergeist had inflicted on me a year earlier.

"Um, no, mom," I lied, "it's a sci-fi movie. Y'know, like Star Wars."   

"Alright, fine," she reneged, "but you better have you ass in bed by eleven or you'll be too tired for school tomorrow!"

In reality had no idea when the movie would end, I just knew that it supposed to start in twenty minutes, at 9 pm sharp. In preparation I filled a mixing bowl to the brim with chips and pretzels and then proceeded to ensconce myself within irradiation distance of the television. To give the film every possible advantage to scare the wits outta I also turned off all the lights like a prepubescent masochist.

And so the table was set and the wine was chilled for my fateful date with Alien.

 
To recall the film's meteor-like impact on my psyche I recently re-watched the move. Here are both my recollections and my latest revelations concerning this timeless sci-fi classic.

P.S. If you just so happen to own a copy of the original theatrical cut watch it and then just look down here when you hit the appropriate time code! 

8 Seconds In: Hey, look, it's the 20th Century Fox fanfare and logo! This is gonna be just like Star Wars!

18 Seconds In: Nope, no it's not! The creepy-ass credit sequence and scary music tells me that Darth Vader ain't got nothin' on what's comin' in this fright-fest!

55 Seconds In: Great, now it sounds like wind blowing through a haunted house. Wonderful. That's not freaking me out at all.

2 Minutes, 20 Seconds In: Hey, a large space ship is flying overhead! It is gonna be just like Star Wars! Hurrah! The interior of ship even vaguely looks like the Millennium Falcon, with cool l'il tchotchkes hangin' offa the rear-view mirror and everything!

5 Minutes, 50 Seconds In: The crew's starting to wake up. Okay, so it's not exactly like Star Wars; clearly these people don't know what a hyperdrive is.

6 Minutes, 50 Seconds In: Since the crew interactions during the "breakfast" scene are all ad-libbed and sounds 100% authentic to my youthful ears I start to wonder if I'm watching some sort of space documentary...FROM THE FUTURE. Adult me can't help but notice that smoking apparently had a big resurgence in popularity in the future!

9 Minutes In: Also in the future, the term "Mother" is a catch-all descriptor for any smothering, all encompassing, claustrophobic environment. Kidding, mom!

12 Minutes In: The ship's crew always seem to be bitching and moaning at one another, which I should've taken as an omen for my adult working career.

13 Minutes In: The film's techno-babble and special effects look completely convincing to me, so by now I'm totally onboard. The illusion is distressingly flawless and my young brain is having a really hard time convincing itself that what it's witnessing is some sort of artifice. This ain't good.

20 Minutes In: Does Ash seem kinda twitchy, or is it just me?

21 Minutes In: Cripes, the weather on this planet is even worse then Newfoundland in February.

22 Minutes In: As a put-upon middle-manager, Ripley has to deal with the ship's different personality types and temperaments, further foreshadowing my own future working career.

23 Minutes In: KITTY!!! I didn't know it at the time but the initially-comforting sight of this very-terrestrial feline would be short-lived.

24 Minutes In: The unnerving music makes a very unwelcome return. Suddenly everything grows distressingly still. The downed spaceship that the characters see in the distance is so weird and, well, alien-looking that I'm now screaming at the characters to turn around and go back. Oddly, they don't listen to me. Mom yells at me from downstairs to make sure everything is alright, which temporarily shakes me out of my panicked reverie.

26 Minutes In: Even as a totally virginal eleven year old kid my unconscious brain recognizes that the vulva-like entrance and ridged walls of the alien spaceship has some sort of unconscious sexual ramifications. Thirty years later I finally realize that Kane (John Hurt), Lambert (Veronica Cartwright) and Dallas (Tom Skerritt) are actually sperm in this weird little psycho-sexual analogy.

28 Minutes In: I experience one of many crippling "WTF?!?" moments when the astronauts stumble upon a giant dead alien with a blown-out chest fused onto his space-seat. His chest "exploded from the inside", huh? Well, I'm sure that's not relevant. The character of Lambert suddenly reads my mind when she blurts "Let's get the hell out of here!"

30 Minutes In: After circumnavigating Ash's cock-blockery, Ripley discovers that the transmission they received wasn't a distress signal after all but "a warning".  No shit, Sherlock(s)!

32 Minutes In: Wow, a giant cargo hold filled with huge eggs. F#cking wonderful. By now,  every fiber of my being is screaming for Kane to come to his senses and scramble back up that rope. Instead he takes a closer look at one of the eggs which appears to be translucent with something gross, pulpy and decidedly Lovecraftian fluttering around inside it. And then, when the goddamned thing opens up like a bloomin' onion, the stupid toolbox actually leans over to look inside of it!

34 Minutes In: AAAAGGGHHHH!!!! 

35 Minutes In: Ripley, once again the voice of reason, is overridden by Ass. Er, Ash. What the f#ck is that guy's problem, anyway?

36 Minutes In: Dallas and Ash use some sort of laser-tool to cut Kane's helmet off.  I'm dying to see what's ins...AAAAAHHH!!! PUT IT BACK ON!!! PUT IT BACK ON!!!

39 Minutes In: Jesus, that thing stuck to Kane's face is freakin' hideous, like the worst possible case of spaces herpes. And it's got acid for blood?!? Good Lord, this is getting worse by the second.

42 Minutes In: Ash seems to be sporting w-a-a-a-a-a-a-y too much wood for this alien. Ian Holm is absolutely brilliant here, acting vaguely defensive when Ripley tries to rattle his cage. Even though I've probably seen this movie about a dozen times by now I finally notice that his drink of preference is a certain liquid known to "do an (artificial) body good".

46 Minutes In: Oh, gawd, the thing's not on Kane's face anymore...where f#ck did it go?!? An agonizing two minutes of painfully-protracted screen time goes by as Ash and Dallas poke their light-tipped dicks into every dark corner, practically begging to be Frenched to death by that slimy mcnasty.

48 Minutes In: Naturally, the repellent thing plops down dead onto Ripley shoulders. At the time I let a out a scream considerably louder then Sigourney Weaver's, prompting another matronly verbal check-in from down below.

49 Minutes In: Ash starts poking around in the facehugger's innards which nearly causes me to hurl into my snack bowl. I didn't know this at the time but director Ridley Scott had actually pulled a fast one and arranged a bunch of fish gusts and shellfish scraps into a prop facehugger to try to make the thing look as gross, real and weird as possible. Good show, sir! Ash says "I assume that it's not a zombie" but even back then I was well-read and knew that the best precaution against a zombie outbreak was to burn the f#cking body. C'mon people, what's wrong with a few precautions in this day and age of rampant space herpes?

50 Minutes In: Like the typical site manager, Dallas tries to pass the buck of responsibility off to one of his subordinates. His excuse is that "things happen because that's what the company wants to happen", once again foreshadowing my future work experience.

53 Minutes In: Hey, look! Kane's up and around as if nothing's happened! Oh, I'm sure he's fine...

54 minutes In: Man, Kane sure seems to be wolfing down a lot of food. It's almost as if he's eating for two, hmmmmmmmm. Oh, oh! Looks like something went down the wrong pipe!

Suddenly there's a burst of on-screen chaos: a series of guttural sound effects, actor John Hurt launches into a completely convincing fit of agony and Parker (Yaphet Kotto) tries to prevent him from swallowing his own tongue by forcibly jamming a spoon in his mouth. By this point I can safely say that me nerves are officially shot.

56 Minutes In: Wha...what in the almighty f#ck just happened there?!?

Oh...Sweet...Baby...Jesus...CAIN IS PREGGERS!!! Even long after the labor pains are over the sound of dripping hemoglobin and Kane's twitching fingers completely and utterly traumatize me for days and nights on end.

I breath a sigh of relief as a timely "word from our sponsors" momentarily causes the horror to abate. I try in vain to collect my frazzled wits as ABC gamely attempts to sell Whoppers, Cheerios and/or Fruit Roll-Ups to me.

57 Minutes In: From this point on Alien becomes a standard haunted house scenario. Unfortunately it's also one of the most effective and consistently scary haunted house movies ever made.

101 Minutes In: The interiors of the ship look so believable that it's just as creepy as any abandoned school or condemned insane asylum. BRRRRRR!!!!

102 Minutes In: F#CKING CAT!!!  Jesus, that thing just scared the kitty litter out of me!

103 Minutes In: Ripley and Parker send Brett (Harry Dean Stanton) out alone to look for Jones. In their defense, the last time they saw the alien it was only as big as a garter snake. Still, would it have killed them to stick together a little while longer?

105 Minutes In: Okay, the alien is shedding its freakin' skin! Even as a stupid kid I knew what that meant!

106 Minutes In: Man, this friggin' ship is so huge it apparently has its own climate The sound of rain and clinking chains is a nice touch. Such creepy. Much haunted house. Very scare. So incontinent.

107 Minutes In: Um, what the eff did I just see? The cat, Brett, trust the cat!!! DON'T LOOK NOW BUT THERE'S SOME SORT OF BIO-MECHANICAL PSYCHO-SEXUAL PHALLIC-HEADED XENOMORPH STANDING RIGHT BEHIND YOU!!! BEHIND YOU MAN!!!  oh god it's got jaws within its jaws I'm immersed in a goddamn Freudian nightmare right now.

109 Minutes In:  In another moment that foreshadows my future work experiences, upper management (I.E. "Mother") proves to be completely useless when Team Lead Dallas asks for some much-needed support. As a result, Dallas decides to venture alone into the air ducts in an attempt to flush out the alien. Sounds legit.

110 Minutes In: Dallas's delightful delve into the vents is pure sustained, sweaty, claustrophobic terror. The music, editing and sound effects all conspire to horrify me like nothing I'd seen prior or hence.

Things get ten times worse when Lambert picks up the alien's signal on her motion tracker. In 1986 James Cameron would derive considerable inspiration from this scene, delivering one of the best sequels in cinema history.

150 Minutes In: Dallas descends a ladder, turns a corner and then run smack dab into Grabby McBiteypants. My bladder shows it's appreciation for this scene's craftsmanship by partially venting itself.

116 Minutes In: Ripley decides to call an impromptu (and decidedly dysfunctional) staff meeting that foreshadows my own future work experience. Sigourney Weaver is so completely believable here that, if you look closely, you can actually see her becoming a star right before your very eyes.

119 Minutes In: In a moment that, once again, foreshadows my future work experiences, Ripley learns that all employees are "expendable" for a company obsessed with nudging up their profit margin. Sadly, this is the most realistic bit of horror in the entire film.

121 Minutes In: In an odd moment of solidarity / synchronicity (solinicity? synchrodarity?), Ripley's nose spontaneously starts bleeding at the exact same moment that mine does while sitting there watching the film at home as a kid. Weird.

In stark contrast, Ash begins to sweat milk out of his pores. Ridley Scott then uses his hand-held camera to convey dizzying levels of disorientation as Ash casually attempts to murder Ripley to death. His creative use of a rolled up porno magazine is particularly disturbing, instantly evoking thoughts of a twisted, mechanical psyche.

122 Minutes In: Jeezus, this little dweeb is STRONG! Parker bombs in and then smokes Ash right in the shoulder clubs metal canister, causing him to suddenly spazz out.

123 minutes In: Annnnnand off with his head! Up to this point in my very short life, Kane's unconventional birthing scene was the most messy, organic, nasty and visceral thing I'd ever had the misfortune to witness. That is until Parker knocked Ash's block off with that fuel canister. By then I wanted to be watching the movie on VHS so I could stop the tape, pop it out and then bury it deep in the back-yard where it belongs.

There weren't enough Tootsie Roll and Wendy's ads in the world to make me recover from this level of psychological trauma.

125 Minutes In: What's left of Ash describes the alien as "a perfect organism". Well, if the creature's sole raison d'être is to scare the ever-lovin' shit outta people then, yes, I'd say that's an apt description.

128 Minutes In: What are you people doing?!?! Don't split up!!! Even if someone needs to take a poop, all three of you need to go together!!!

129 Minutes In: The film is betrayed by its first major script contrivance which ends up tarnishing the illusion for me quite a bit. Ripley, who up to this point has been the only sensible one, wanders off to look for Jones the f#cking cat. This gives every single male watching the film an opportunity to roll their eyes and say "Hmph, ain't that just like a woman?" Even as a kid, I though that this was lame, mainly because it gave the alien an opportunity to sneak around her and get onboard the shuttle.

131 Minutes In: FUCKING CAT!!!

132 Minutes In: Hey, Parker n' Lambert, is there any way you might be able to make just bit more noise there?

We're then "treated" to some of the best full-body glimpses of the alien, and, let me tell ya, kiddies,  it's light-years away from the bug-eyed, tentacle-flailing, Muppet-footed cliches that scared the fertilizer outta me in The Green Slime. First off: this f#cker is taller then Hakeem Olajuwon. And *ick* we get to see some real, spring-loaded extendo-jaw action after the alien clobbers poor Parker with a nasty tail-whip.

And, sorry, but I can't shit on Lambert's paralysis too much. If I was her I'd be doing my best "deer in headlights" impersonation as well.

135 Minutes In: With Lambert's mournful screams now reverberating down the darkened hallway, the ship has literally become a Funhouse of pure terror. Ripley decides to nuke the place from orbit (it's the only way to be safe) and we get to witness the most genuine-looking self-destruct procedure in cinema history

138 Minutes In: Smoke, strobe lights and frantic dashes down industrial-looking corridors: once again we get a sneak preview of the movie Aliens, which followed seven years later. Ripley's adrenaline and stress are palpable as she vainly tries to abort the self-destruct sequence. I was on pins and needles as she scrambled back to the shuttle. At that stage, I knew that the alien could be lurking anywhere, waiting to pick her off as soon as those first few hunger pangs hit.

140 Minutes In: Aaaaand it's gone! *Phew*  Look's like everything's comin' up Ripley!

143 Minutes In:  Ridley Scott throws all the stoners out there a bone by delivering the most blatantly "Whoa, man!" technicolor explosion in cinema history.

144 Minutes In: "I got you, you sonavabitch!" Wow, talk about counting your facehuggers before they're hatched!

145 Minutes In: Sigourney Weaver strips down to her Underoos™, giving 12-year-old me (and 44 year-old-me for that matter) an unexpected thrill that, for once in this damned movie, has absolutely nothing to do with violation, murder and death. Now, some people might say that this scene diminishes Ripley's strong character but I don't agree. She is planning to hit the ol' cryo-pod after all. What, do you wear your space suit to bed? Whatever.

146 Minutes In: No fair! That bastard's camouflage is perfect!

148 Minutes In: DAT JAW!!!  *Ewwwww!!!* Meanwhile Ripley continues to display her smarts, courage, moxie and fortitude, which more then makes up for her previous feline-related gaffes.

150 Minutes In: Ripley uses the SUPERFLUOUS INTERIOR EXHAUST SYSTEM to blow the critter right outta its hidey-hole. The creature's resulting screams are pure, unadulterated nightmare fuel.

151 Minutes In: We get another regrettable eyeful of H.R. Giger's most famous creation and realize that the dearly departed mad Swiss genius had a unique talent to tap into our worst unconscious psychological fears.

153 Minutes In: After a well-earned victory, an angelic-looking Ripley sleeps contentedly in her stasis tube, oblivious to what she'll hafta deal with just fifty-seven short years later. 

***

This movie scared the crap out of me in a way no other film had. It wasn't a fifteen year old (at the time) black and white flick like Night of the Living Dead or a horror movie with training wheels like Poltergeist. Because of Alien I didn't sleep properly for nights on end.

Now, remember, it terrified me in spite of three important insulators:

1. I watched it in the re-assuring confines of my own living room.
2. The tension was periodically alieved by incongruously-cheery ads for margarine and car insurance.
3. Since it was shown on prime-time network television, what I saw was likely heavily edited. 

When a movie manages to elbow its way past all of the modern bulwarks of re-assurance to scare the wits out of you, then you know you've dealing with something truly frightening.

For days I kept asking "Why do I keep subjecting myself to these patently awful things?" and "Why do I wanna do it again sooner rather then later?". I swiftly came to the conclusion that, as a sheltered child without any siblings, I wanted to use the medium of horror to toughen myself up.

Looking back I realize that I was a pretty astute kid.

Now, don't mistake my intent, Gentle Readers: I'm not saying that kids should be exposed to dark subject matter at an early age, quite the opposite in fact. I'd much rather see kids remain kids for as long as they can, which is no small feat in this media and communication-soaked age of technology.

But I also know that the world is a nasty and scary place; an ugly truism that all of us must confront at some point in time in our lives. And I can't thank film-makers like Ridley Scott enough for taking me by the hand and guiding me along my first few baby steps towards this unfortunate but pragmatic realization.

EPIC DOC Wanna know all there is to know about this timeless horror classic? Then enjoy this amazing doc. You're welcome.

FAIL-URE OF ORIGINALITY  Granted, Alien wasn't 100% original, but, like Wolverine, it's the best at what it does. These films, not so much.   

Arguing With Idiots For Sport And Pleasure

'SPECIALLY WHEN I'M WRONG

Felicitations, Free Thinkers!

Although his career as a wrestling heel was just a shade before my time, I quickly became enamored with Jesse "The Body" Ventura as a color commentator with the WWF. Even at that impressionable young age I could tell that Ventura was smarter then the average bear. 

I anxiously followed Ventura's dalliances with Hollywood, as he starred in such classic sci-fi fare as Predator and The Running Man. I never did see Abraxas, Guardian of the Universe, but in case the spirit ever moves me some evening, I'll just leave this right hur.

Since so many actors have done the same, I wasn't surprised when Jesse moved out of the public light and entered politics. He first served as the Mayor of Brooklyn Park, Minnesota, from 1991 to 1995 and then went on to become the very first politically-independent Governor of Minnesota from 1999 to 2003.

In this day and age, this latter achievement is almost inconceivable. Despite running a bare-bones campaign on the cheap, Jesse appealed to the everyman by offering an alternative to the usual Republican / Democrat paradigm. While in office he refused to meet with lobbyists and made tremendous strides regarding public transit and tax reform. During this time he also became highly disillusioned with partisan politics and the ruinous nature of corporate-controlled media.

He parleyed these observations into a wildly-successful writing career, penning several notable books including I Ain't Got Time to Bleed: Reworking the Body Politic from the Bottom Up,
Do I Stand Alone? Going to the Mat Against Political Pawns and Media Jackals and 
Jesse Ventura Tells it Like it Is: America's Most Outspoken Governor Speaks Out About Government. As you can probably gather from the titles, Jesse's dark take on the American political system is the direct result of his own experiences serving in office. 

Via Don't Start the Revolution Without Me! I began to learn more about this interesting and multifaceted dude. A former Underwater Demolition Team expert and Vietnam veteran, Jessa had a habit of reading voraciously while traveling across the country between matches with the WWF. While absorbing the works of political rebels such as Major General Smedley Butler and L. Fletcher Prouty Jesse developed a healthy skepticism about the motivations of a government puppeteered by big business.

Thanks to his many years as a wrestler, commentator and bureaucrat, Jesse developed quite a reputation for speaking his mind in a clear, direct and often humorous fashion. As such, when he moved into the realm of political commentary, Ventura certainly wasn't afraid to ask uncomfortable questions about the invasive nature of American foreign policy, the corporate influence on government and the blatant murder of the country's last autonomous President, John Fitzgerald Kennedy.

What I'm trying to say is that Jesse Ventura isn't your average retired wrestling meat-head.

But because he had the unmitigated gall to publicly criticize the false concept of American Exceptionalism, Jesse became the target of Chris Kyle, the self-professed "most lethal sniper in U.S. Military history". In an appearance meant to promote his book American Sniper on an episode of The O'Reilly Factor, Kyle claims to have cold-cocked Ventura for the sin of autonomous critical thought during a speaking engagement at a Navy S.E.A.L. bar: 

So, the other night I'm killing time on Google + and I come across a post in my news feed by the "Americans Against the Tea Party". It featured Ventura in a recent episode of his weekly on-line political screed Off the Grid. 

During this episode Jesse says:

“You are not gonna beat ISIS and somehow make everything right over there. You are still gonna be hated. None of this would have happened had we not gone over there and destabilized it. So here’s who we have to thank for all of this mess today: George W. Bush and Dick Cheney. Two guys who were too chicken to go to Vietnam. Too chicken to join the service and stand up and fight for their country, but they took us over there. If Barack Obama says, 'we need to get involved' and we end up with boots on the ground, I’ve said this before, the first two pairs of boots that oughta be on the ground over there are George Bush and Dick Cheney, leading from the front and not the rear.”

Now any reasonable human being who's even vaguely informed about America's compulsive history of meddling with affairs in the Middle East (dating back to Iran in 1953) would look at this quote and agree with it in principal, in spite of its lack of realism. But as I drilled down on the comments I could see that a bunch of crazed Tea Bagg...er Tea Partiers had responded with nothing but crude, mindless vitriol, verbal thuggery and Fox News-style regurgitations.

"Venturas (s.p.) a whiney (s.p.) little bitch. Sues (s.p.) wife of dead hero that slapped him down."

"Hey Jesse, go suck one!"

 "Ex- wrestler, conspiriscy (s.p.) nut job, black copters are following me loon."

"Ventura is a douce (s.p.) bag. He needs to just put the aluminum foil back on his head and off himself."

"AATP is blathering stupidity and now Ventura is their mascot. "

"Jesse Ventura is an old psychotic, narcissist has been acting like a never will be. What a punk!"

 
Now, I want to make this crystal clear before I proceed: although I'm a huge fan of Jesse and I agree with a lot of what he says, we don't see eye-to-eye on everything, particularly on the subject of gun control. His now-defunct television show Conspiracy Theory was kind of alarmist, giving casual viewers an excuse to dismiss very real and very serious issues as tin-foil-hat histrionics. He often refers to himself in the third person, comes across as opinionated and defensive and likely harbors a justifiably-inflated sense of ego. 

But I also understand Jesse's motivations and know that, underneath all of the bluster and bravado, he's a very well-researched and intelligent guy who uses shock value in an effort to wake people up. He doesn't hate America, quite the opposite. I get the impression that he loves his country so much that he's deeply troubled by its free-fall and would like nothing better then to see the U.S. of A. regain some semblance of its former glory.

As a result, I felt compelled to weigh in on this little tête-à-tête, not so much to defend Jesse, but to see if I could lure these Tea Party wing-nuts into an actual debate.

Here's what happened.

Spoiler alert: what happened is exactly what you'd expect to happen. 

Matthew M: "This traitor! Jesse Ventura, who sued a dead American Navy Seal hero's widow! And now says America deserved 9/11 and to be bombed! Oughta be shot for treason!"
 
ME: @Matthew M "Chris Kyle blatantly LIED about Ventura in a mass-market publication, he deserved to get sued. And Ventura has never, ever said that America deserved to get bombed on 9/11. He's trying to educate people blinded by the myth of American exceptionalism that, like it or not, the United States has a very long and very checkered history of geo-politcal interference around the world, which gives radical forces plenty of motivation to attack us."

Alexandre A: @David Pretty "that's exactly what Jesse Ventura is saying!!! I never heard him say anything against America but true things !!! @MM "every president of the United states needs to be tried for treason at least the living presidents that are around specially Bush and Cheney who sold us the war!!! The people who want us to go neck to neck against each other have been doing this for years they know how to keep an open wound bleeding!!!! How many of you have taken sides about immigration,the survival of Israel, Isis , Ukraine, the deficit, 9/11 all those are topics to keep us from seen what really us going on !!!"

ME: @Alexandre A "You're absolutely right. I've done a lot of research on this and I truly do believe that the last U.S. President that wasn't a puppet of corporations and / or the military industrial complex was JFK."

Alexandre A: @David Pretty "don't forget Dwight Eisenhower warn us about the industrial military complex !!! I trusted Obama up until I saw him going along with war guru's!!!!!"

ME: http://emblogificationcapturedevice.blogspot.ca/2013/04/will-historys-real-greatest-monster.html

Elizabeth M: "I have heard many people quoting from actress and actors, politicians, ect (s.p.)...
These type of people in my opinion, don't have a mind of there on (s.p.), simply because they are to busy with this materialistic life and lazy to go out and gain their on (s.p.) knowledge.

I also think Jesse has an aggressive attitude but maybe is (s.p.) all the anger inside of him, as a former governor he fond (s.p.) out despicable things our government is doing against humanity and therefore expresses himself in a rude way to let all that anger out.

In my personal opinion, I think he is on point on most of what he says, but I do dislike when he speaks so aggressively, if he was to express himself in a more humble way, it would be better for him.

I to (s.p.) respect your opinion and I thank you for respecting mine. :)"

Color Commentary: Hey, look a dissenting comment that doesn't stoop to insults! Although her opinion isn't fact-based (I.E. Jesse is a helluva lot better informed then, say, Matt Damon) but at least her comment is civil and reasonably well-thought-out.

But then, just a few short seconds later it was right back to The Attack of the Knuckle-Draggers:

Greg Hi-Z: "You can have Jesse on your side any time."

William F: "He was piled drived (s.p.) a bit to (s.p.) much by the Arabian sheik, and Bruno sanmartino (s.p.). They did not know the long term effects can make you an idiot and azzhole (s.p.) at same time."

Color Commentary: Who the f#ck is the "Arabian Sheik"?

ME: @ William F "Speaking of libel your statement is nothing but conjecture. Please provide some back up for that blatantly inflammatory statement." 

Matthew M: "Shutup. I don't wanna hear from more like him. You all disgust me! I woulda done more then knock him out if I was there! God bless America!"

Alexandre A: @Elizabeth M "he does speak aggressively but because his in the know how and can't wake up the vast majority of Americans !!! Jesse Ventura is a patriot navy seal remember!!!!"

ME: "Good strategy, +Matthew M. By sticking your fingers in your ears and yelling 'LA!!! LA!!! LA!!! I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!!' you're sure to avoid reality ad infinitum."  

Matthew M: @David Pretty "yeah liberal idiots know all about that!" 

ME: @Matthew M  "I wouldn't know. I'm not a 'liberal'."

Alexandre A: @Matthew M "I'm an American before any party affiliation left or right !!!! My eyes are wide open and see both points specially when their trying to push something down our throats!!!!"

Austin Stevens: Color Commentary: this guy's on-line handle was clearly inspired by former WWF superstar "Stone Cold" Steve Austin, replete with a profile pic of Austin. Right away, I'm thinking that this guy ain't exactly gonna be Noam Chomsky and two seconds later he proves it by stating:  "Ventura is an idiot a complete moron."
 
ME: @Austin Stevens "Cut and paste from above but it applies to you too: 'Speaking of libel your statement is nothing but conjecture. Please provide some back up for that blatantly inflammatory statement'."

Matthew M: "Ventura, the cowardly, deserter, traitor anti- American, big mouth moron who sues dead hero's (s.p.) widows, and his sheep, will get there's! (s.p.)"

ME:  @Matthew M. "* sigh * If I shot my mouth off and called a friend of yours 'a cowardly, deserter, traitor anti- American, big mouth moron' wouldn't you want me to produce proof of this claim? And if I couldn't, then exactly who is the 'big mouth moron?' Hello? Is this thing on? * taps microphone *"

Alexandre A: @Matthew M.  "Jesse Ventura served our country therefore he can say all he wants about anyone !!!!"

Peter B:  "ANYONE...can say what they want, Regardless of whether they served their country! I know plenty of Patriots, who never enlisted, and plenty of ENLISTED, who forgot their roots, and are world class DB's. Jesse Ventura falls in the latter category. World-Class-conspiracy-theory-Douche-Bag!!! Everyone can agree that the Iraq was handled poorly, after the battle was won. People forgot about the reasons for going into Iraq. WMD's were the least of the issues. Firing on US aircraft, and plots to assassinate Bush Sr, have long since been forgotten. The issue in front of us now, is do we need to leave a QRF force in Iraq, and robust Special Ops units, in order to at minimum, protect our friends(the Kurds and other secularists). Obama has screwed this(like everything else) up! Now it's coming back to haunt him. He's a World Class politician. Period. This is why most active duty soldiers despise Obama, (AND Ventura): because he doesn't listen to his Generals;  he listens to his latest polling!"

Color Commentary: Peter's comments are promising and I wish he'd stuck around as well. Yes, he's grossly informed about Ventura and stoops to cheap name-calling but he's reasonably articulate and included reasons if not hard evidence for his claims. Sure, his perspective is dead wrong, but at least he's trying. 

Alexandre A: @Peter B "Obama listens to those who have money ,to hell with the polling!!!"

ME: "Good Lord, I'm gonna get carpel tunnel syndrome typing this over and over again." @Peter B. '"Jesse Ventura (is a)...World-Class-conspiracy-theory-Douche-Bag!!!' This is nothing but baseless hyperbole. What are you basing this statement on?!?"

Matthew M. @David Pretty "I don't have cowardly traitors for friends! Unlike you it seems? proof? Are you and idiot who can't read?"

Matthew M. @Alexandre A "I've (really) served our country! So I can say what I want about him! Like the truth! He has zero credibility now!"

Alexandre A. @Matthew M "a true patriotic American questions,and that's what Jesse Ventura is doing !!"

ME: @Matthew M. "Despite asking over and over again no-one in this thread has provided a single shred of evidence supporting their attacks on Ventura. Does the phrase 'innocent until proven guilty' mean anything to you?  How 'bout 'burden of proof'?"    

Richard s: @Alexandre A. "if he were a real patriot i think he should have dropped the ridiculous lawsuit against fellow seal and decorated hero after he was killed. Unless he's donating the settlement to a worthty (s.p.) charity he's a little bitch."

Alexandre A. @Richard s. "what lawsuit are you talking about Can you cite your source??!!!"

ME: @Richard s. "Cut and paste from above: "Chris Kyle blatantly LIED about Ventura in a mass-market publication, he deserved to get sued."

http://www.washingtonpost.com/news/morning-mix/wp/2014/07/30/the-complicated-but-unveriable-legacy-of-chris-kyle-the-deadliest-sniper-in-american-history/

Color Commentary: Interesting turn of events here: the only thing I really knew about Chris Kyle was the creepy vibe that came off of him in waves during that slavishly pandering Bill O'Reilly interview. By doing a quick bit of research and providing the aforementioned link I discovered that Kyle had tendencies towards self-aggrandizement and playing fast and lose with the facts. This shows how important it is to avoid mixing "truth" up with "truthiness".

Richard s.: @David Pretty "disagree. Thought it was kind of a bitch move to sue a fellow seal in the first place over a claim that he got knocked down. Then to continue the case after mr.kyles death was without honor. That he won the case doesn't really mean the truth as been seen. ( oj. Casey anthoney, etc....) obama lied about keeping your dr. seems there should be a whole lot of folk suing him."

Matthew M: @Richard s "agreed it was a little bitch move! And the little bitch deserved to get knocked down for what he said! Can't believe people defend him. Your (s.p.) a good American."

Color Commentary: Actually I'm not an American, just someone who's more informed then the average American. Which, sadly, isn't saying much.

Richard s. @Matthew M. "i love how some people pick and choose what they believe by virtue of celebrity, because otherwise ventura sounds like a conspirousy (s.p.) nut bag most of the time. Still alot of us left . GBA."

Color Commentary: By the way, the "GBA" in that last post stands for "God Bless America". That right, folks, these people habitually cap off their vicious personal attacks by evoking the favor of an invisible sky man who supposedly teaches tolerance, understanding and peace. Oh irony, why you so ironic?

ME: @Richard s @Matthew M "Whether or not you guys think it's a 'bitch move' what Kyle did was defamation cut and dried. If you read the article I linked above you'll find out that Kyle has a history of self-aggrandizement and making stuff up.  Ventura defended his public honor using perfectly legal means and not by sucker-punching Kyle when his back was turned. "
 
ME: @Richard s. "'ventura sounds like a conspirousy (s.p.) nut bag most of the time. Still alot of us left . GBA.'  Richard, if you're trying to sway people to your POV, then you need to provide a little something called EVIDENCE otherwise this is just an opinion and not fact."

ME: @Matthew Madigan "John Lindsay once stated, 'Dissent is the highest form of patriotism.' For that reason alone I'll defend true patriots like Ventura to the bitter end."

Alexandre A: @David Pretty "well said !!!"

ME: @Alexandre A. "Thank you, sir."

Matthew M: @Richard s "yes your right well said. And I agree there's still lots of good Americans."

Richard s: @David Pretty "and i'll believe the one that left his blood on the battlefield. To each their own."

ME: @Matthew M "I'd like to agree with you on that but (A) Richard S.'s own form of Chris Kyle-style of libel is still only HIS OPINION and (B) he didn't even bother to spell 'conspiracy' properly."

Richard s: @David Pretty "what libel would that be."

Alexandre A: @David Pretty "this people are totally uneducated and it's obviously by their uneducated opinions!!!!"

Color Commentary: I genuinely winced when I read this. Just watch as this cheap shot causes the quality of the discussion to degenerate almost immediately. 

ME:  "Oh, I dunno, how 'bout: 'ventura sounds like a conspirousy (s.p.) nut bag most of the time' or my own personal favorite from earlier in the thread: '(Ventura is a ) cowardly, deserter, traitor anti- American, big mouth moron'. This is SLANDER. If I said that kinda stuff about YOU behind your back you'd be pissed at me. And justifiably so." 

Richard s: @Alexandre A. "and your opinion matters because you think you have an education. Don't make me laugh. That's all you've given is opinion."

Alexandre A: @Richard s "you've only given a mouth full of sewer!"

Color Commentary: "A mouth full of sewer"? Really? What is this...Grade Four?

Richard s: @Alexandre A "now theres edumacation for y'all."

ME: "For the record, when he was challenged by Pierce Morgan about the lawsuit on CNN Jesse said: 'He never hit me. I don’t even know who he is. This never happened. [This lawsuit] has always been about clearing my name and getting back my reputation. I was accused by this gentleman of committing treason; that’s very serious. In fact, it’s a capital offense in the military. It’s not about money; it’s about my reputation.'

When Morgan pursued with 'Are you uncomfortable suing Kyle’s widow?' he replied:

'No, because an insurance company is paying for the whole thing, anyway. It’s the insurance company of the book publisher. I have to sue her just because she is now the estate, since [Chris Kyle] passed away'.”

ME: "Here's another fun fact: Chris Kyle made six million dollars from his book American Sniper.  Oh, and where did I find that out? A friggin' Tea Party website, no less."

ME: @Alexandre A "I don't give a crap about who's 'educated' and who isn't. I think we're starting to make some progress here, so let's try to keep things civil, shall we?"

Richard s: @David Pretty "it's been my understanding from what i had read that publishers insurance was't picking up the entire amount. Didn't know ventura's reputation was that important to him look at his past acting choices. Don' t know of witnesses accounts? never said coward,traitor or anything other than nutbag , pretty sure thats not libal (s.p.)."

ME: @Richard s. "Well, it only took a jury six freakin' days to determine that Chris Kyle made up the whole story. And, of course, Ventura's reputation is important to him: if he runs for President in 2016 he can't have allegations like this floating around out there uncontested."
 
ME: @Richard s. "And you're absolutely right, 'nutbag' isn't libel. It's just a nasty thing to say out of turn without any evidence to support it." 

Color Commentary: Faced with this, Richard s.'s incontrovertible stance seemed to sway just a little bit. But for most die-hard Tea Bag...er, Party people FACTS are the equivalent of flashing a red flag in front of a bull.

Matthew M "Guess all you Ventura ass kissers also deny the facts about the 'Muslim' attack on 9/11 too? (koo koo)And think America deserved it, and deserves to get bombed to hell? As per Jesse's ventures disgusting comments! hey, I hear ISIS is recruiting?"
 
Matthew M "These 'types' are, partly, why I worry America doesn't have the moral clarity anymore to deal with the great threats we face!" 

Steven O "I say Jesse is a gutless coward and should shut his big mouth the only thing he's good at is attacking men that are dead COWARD! !!!!!!"

Color Commentary: Opinion doesn't magically transform into fact with the liberal application of five exclamation points.  

Matthew M @Steven O "very true! G.B.A"

ME: @Matthew M. "What facts? I'd ask you to specify but I've asked before and I'm not holding my breath." @Steven O. "Again, your opinion. And unless you did a tour in Vietnam as a Navy S.E.A.L. and continuously stick your neck out in an effort to inform people about genuine societal ills then your words are pretty cheap to me in comparison. God, I'm tired. Honestly, it's like trying to have a conversation with a bunch of pre-recorded messages."

Sean I:  "everyone I`ve talked to says the following. He (Color Commentary: I assume he's talking about Ventura here) was straight forward. He wasnt a coward. He admitted his mistakes and didnt lie like the rest of the balless and heartless successful politicians America has seen."

Richard s: "U.d.t. at the time ventura was serving was not a part of the navy seals. And himself has never actually admitted seeing action in vietnam (s.p.). Although he may have done classified type stuff. How about 'may not have both oars in the water' is that better than nutjob? still think ventura should donate settlement if it ain't about the money."

Color Commentary: Above and beyond the thinly-veiled insult, I want to concede a point that Richard makes here. By all accounts, Ventura was a frogman with the Underwater Demolition Team in Vietnam and not a full-fledged Navy S.E.A.L., a title he sometimes lays claim to. Eight years after Ventura left the Navy, the U.D.T. was folded into the SEAL team, prompting Jesse to  observe: "Today we refer to all of us as S.E.A.L.s, that's all it is". Semantics? Maybe.

william r: "Let me know when this guy is relevant. I was going to add 'again', but, well, he never was."

Jammie K: @Richard s "and you actually believe that? I guess you personally know them, huh? Oh... you heard about it on Fox.. it must be true."

william r: @Jammie K "Ah, that dear old Fox thing! Gotta love it!  , are you gonna blame Bush next? Then what-call people racists? Substance-not vitriol. Like it or not- 2/3 of America watches Fox. And, also, like it or not, the majority of what they comment on is news. All that being said-if you watch cable TV, you aren't watching news, no matter WHAT channel you watch. You're watching news COMMENTATORS. So, yeah, keep through out that good ole 'Fox News' biscuit! It was tiresome in 2007. Its pedantic at this point."

Color Commentary: No, Billy-Boy, it's this.

Jammie K @william r. "Oh WOW! I guess I should have used one of the other media outlets. Didn't realize my point would be over shadowed by someone devotion and belief in Fox news. But you sir, are a complete idiot for not seeing through the lies and bullcrap the media uses to fuel debates that otherwise would never get attention. As far as blaming Bush and any other crap you can come up with, no, I dont blame Bush. I blame people just like you who are too damn stupid to see reality and choose to believe what they hear instead of what is right in front of their face. But no since in arguing about it... you obviously don't have the intelligence to form an opinion based on facts. Keep believing the media, they like fools like you. It keeps the ratings up. As you pointed out, 2/3 of this country watches Fox. SMH"

Color Commentary: in case you don't know, "SMH" stands for "Shaking My Head".

william r "And, you assume I watch Fox. Which, I don't. Havent had TV for 3 years now. So, again, you're making assumptions based on your personal feelings (we call that talking out your ass). So, once again, name calling and hateful comments-those very things we presume you associate Fox news for spreading-are your tools for communication? Pot, meet kettle."

Jammie K. "Who is making assumptions here?  Who attacked who first about comments, and who is talking out their ass?  For the record, I don't even watch TV.  Shows what you KNOW.   You sir, are the one that attempted to belittle my comments, which I might add had NOTHING to do with FOX or racism.  But you take it how ever you perceive it to be.   Pot, meet kettle."

Color Commentary: From here on in, things continued to degenerate, reminding me of Monty Python once again. Completely bored now, I decided to sit back and watch the fireworks.

william r: "You referenced Fox news, did you not? You called me names, did you not? You also stated I watched Fox news, did you not? Or, am I lying? And, yes, I threw the Bush and racist comments out there-because, lets face it-anyone who references Fox news is OBVIOUSLY a Bush supporter AND a racist. I mean, a simple Google search will prove that out. So, please, just go away. You're stealing valuable oxygen."

Jammie K: @william r "Did you even actually read the comment you so eagerly commented on?  I guess I should have added ABC, CBS, NBC, CNN, BBC, etc.  Maybe then you wouldn't ASSUME all these other things you mentioned.   You attack me and then tell me to go away?  Who are you?  To me... the answer is... ABSOLUTELY NOBODY!  No arguing with a dumbass cop, you know everything and everyone else knows nothing.  You must be the pride of the department!   Typical!"

william r: "Ah, more personal attacks. Lovely. That the way you speak to people? Proud of the way you treat people? Making assumptions, calling names, personal attacks? Trying to justify your comment by name calling and mud slinging is pretty low brow. Stop being hateful. No one likes mean people."
  
Jammie K: @william r "I apologize...  I didn't realize this was a popularity contest.  But my point was made.  Just remember this... you called me out, not the other way around.  Like you said...  Pot, meet kettle!"
 
william r: @Jammie K "lets see, your first post was attacking someone else, and jumping to blaming Fox news-even though there was NO REFERENCE to that individual making any comments regarding Fox. In fact, he mentioned people he SPOKE TO. Yet, you took that opportunity to attack HIM and to throw the Fox reference out there. THAT WAS YOUR FIRST POST. I called you out. You attacked me, called me names, attacked my profession. Now, who, in their right mind, would agree with you-who, through your very posts here, is doing the exact same thing you claim to oppose? It certainly is not a popularity contest. I'm merely calling you out as a hypocrite. The only point you successfully made here was that the very thing you claim to stand against, you certainly have no issue doing to others. In America, we call that being a hypocrite."

Color Commentary: See how pointless, boring, pedantic and useless all of this hot air is? Unless you're brokering in cold hard facts in the form of citations, links and quotes then just engaging in the equivalent of "You're stoopid!" / "No, you're stoopid!" Unable to tolerate this anymore, I forced myself to venture once more back into the breach.    

ME: "So, here's what I've learned so far in my mercifully short exposure to Tea Party supporters:

(1) They're 100% convinced that they're right all the time.
(2) They're 100% convinced everyone else is wrong all the time.
(3) Facts and truth are irrelevant to them.
(4) They try to compensate for their willful ignorance with personal attacks and belligerence.
(5) If they're losing a debate (or what passes as for a "debate" in their minds) they'll write "G.B.A!" like its some kind of mystical ward against the truth and then either leave the discussion or Block you before their fantasy-based world starts to crumble.

Please, for the sake of everything holy, make some sort of effort to prove me wrong on these points, Tea Party people. Reality might be a bitter pill to swallow but it ain't that bad if we're all in it together."

william r: @David Pretty "not sure who you're addressing here? Or, are you jumping to conclusions and generalizing people too? I mean, the progressive movement is, after all, all about inclusion. Unless you don't fit their narrowly defined criteria. Then, your a tea party terrorist, support Zionism, hate the poor, etc. You know, progressives: love everyone exactly like you, and, if they don't think like you, blame Bush, then call them a racist. yawn. OF course, we can point to other progressive movements-climate change, lets say-and the 1.2 TONS of trash they left in NYC. Radical is radical. Name calling sure helps though :/"

ME: @william r "I'm referring to the people I've been trying (and failing) to have a civil discussion with here. Please take the time to read the entire thread; it clearly illustrates every single point I just made. For the record I used the term 'Tea Party people' for lack of a better term. I can only assume that they're 'Tea Party people' because they've chosen to come to a 'AATTP' thread and attack Ventura without so much as a single shred of evidence. "

And with that I was out. The thread went on for a little bit longer but no-one responded directly to my last post.

***

Want to know why Americans are so polarized right now? Why so many of them are convinced that they're right and everyone else is wrong? Why there's so much political paralysis? Why Congress can't get anything done and currently has the lowest approval rates in history? Well, I suspect that answer lies encoded within the shattered DNA of the pathetic little thread detailed above.

I'll tell you right now: unless Americans start coming together to hash out their differences using the proper etiquette of debate and remember how to make common sense decisions based upon well-established facts, then the entire country is going to mired in malaise and indecision forever.

EPIC RANT:  Tea Bag...er, Partiers hate Jesse Ventura because he dares to employ dirty pool (otherwise known as "facts") in an effort to show Americans the real face of their country, warts and all.  

G.B.A.!!!!!!

ECHO CHAMBER FAIL: As the old adage goes, "the truth hurts". Don't get caught wearing the "I'm With Stupid" shirt: its not too late to get informed, get enlightened and get active.

All Wet

 
Sooooo, like everyone else on the freakin' planet, it was inevitable that I got nominated for this whole "ALS Ice Bucket Challenge" thingie by at least a half-dozen people .

Which is kinda crazy 'cuz if y'all knew me then you'd know that I'm not motivated at all by public humiliation, guilt, peer pressure, grandstanding, unquestioning acquiescence or chain-style obligatory emails.

Now, even though I would never, ever voluntarily film myself dumping a bucket of freezing-cold (not to mention precious) ice-water over my head and then post it on the innerwebz, I do think that this is an incredibly important cause which deserves as much exposure as possible. 

But unlike the average lemming I decided to do some research before I blindly submitted my donation. That's when I discovered that the ALSA only directs about 7.71% of its budget to Research: I.E. finding a friggin' treatment.

So here's the thing: I need someone, anyone out there who has experience working with not-for-profit organizations to justify this to me because, at face value, this seems woefully low.

Even more baffling is the amount of money the group's administrators make:

Jane H. Gilbert – President and CEO – $339,475.00
Daniel M. Reznikov – Chief Financial Officer – $201,260.00
Steve Gibson – Chief Public Policy Officer – $182,862.00
Kimberly Maginnis - Chief of Care Services Officer – $160,646.00
Lance Slaughter - Chief Chapter Relations and Development Officer – $152,692.00
Michelle Keegan – Chief Development Officer – $178,744.00
John Applegate – Association Finance Officer – $118.726.00
David Moses – Director of Planned Giving – $112,509.00
Carrie Munk – Chief Communications and Marketing Officer – $142,875.00
Patrick Wildman – Director of Public Policy – $112,358.00
Kathi Kromer – Director of State Advocacy – $110,661.00

Now I'm not saying that these people don't do some great work, but do they honestly deserve a "one for you, one for me" kind of arrangement? 

Sorry to be the bucket of ice water cast haphazardly upon this mindless viral phenomenon, but I've never been one to blindly follow groupthink without doing some research first. And, let me tell ya folks, what I discovered really has me scratching my head. In fact, based on their own tax returns, over half the money the ALSA takes in goes directly into the pockets of the people who run the thing.  

Who knows, maybe this is the model for every single non-profit organization on the planet. Maybe the CEO's for the Cancer Society, the Alzheimer's Association and the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation all drive sick rides, no pun intended. But even if that's the case, is is right? Maybe it's time to take a long hard look at the way these massive administrative bodies operate and start asking some tough questions.

Even after my research I went ahead and gave a donation anyway, preferring to think that the lion's share of my money will go directly to helping people with ALS, supporting their families and/or finding a cure for this terrible disease.

'Cuz even more daunting then the prospects of publicly embarrassing myself by dumping ice water on my head is the horrible thought that I just paid for some rich asshole's venti mocha cookie frappuccino.

EPIC RANT  Leave it to acerbic comedian Bill Burr to sum up my thoughts on this whole thing. Not even slightly suitable for work, BTW.

VIRAL FAIL Yes, the videos are doing a great job increasing awareness for ALS but it seems to me that a lot of people are doing them for attention or to see their friends and family members humiliate themselves on-line.

THE "YOU HAD ONE JOB" FAIL  And this is what I was afraid of...

Words Fail...But These Will Have To Do

Ever since Robin Williams took his own life on Monday August 11'th I've been struggling, rather vainly, to process this. Not since we lost Jim Henson have I been so completely and utterly crushed by a celebrity death.

Like so many other people my age, I first became aware of Robin Williams back in 1978 via Mork & Mindy. I was only eight years old at the time. To a kid, Robin was a hyperactive genius. Kids like THINGS THAT GO FAST and Robin was the Speedy Gonzalez of comedy. Often you'd find yourself laughing hysterically at one of his shticks, scarcely able to breathe before you realized that he'd already said three or four other impossibly funny things. Every time I sat down to watch a new episode of the show I took my young life in my hands.

My parents were immediately put off my him, probably because they thought that all of that energy couldn't possibly be generated by one human being without the aid of chemicals. But to me he was always the alpha and omega of funny.

His first lead role in a film, as the squinty, spinach-obsessed titular hero in Popeye, didn't exactly endear him to critics. As far as I was concerned it was a box office smash. I can distinctly remember going to see it at our local Harmon Theatre and being tuned away because the lineup was too long. I never did go back to the cinema, and to this day I've never seen it from start to finish. This is a personal deficit that I will endeavor to  rectifying post-haste.

His next two films, specifically Moscow on the Hudson and The World According to Garp polarized fans and critics alike. As a Juilliard-trained actor, it was pretty clear that Robin was trying to make smart choices and expand his repertoire. Unfortunately, for the average slack-jawed troglodyte who just wanted to see Mork copied and pasted into everything Williams did, they didn't want to see him do anything "different" or "serious". Jim Carey would suffer from the same pall years later.

Mercifully Robin managed to strike the perfect balance in 1987 with Good Morning Vietnam.

This was the ideal cinematic venture for Williams. Bringing his own manic interpretation to his portrayal of real-life U.S Armed Forces Radio Services D.J. Adrian Cronauer, the film also mined plenty of social commentary inherent in the spate of Vietnam War movies which were in vogue at the time. All of a sudden Williams was THE HOTNESS again.

Now on the top of the world, Robin had the pick of the litter when it came to scripts. His next film, Dead Poet's Society, was undoubtedly one of the best roles:

Thanks to a brief but memorable appearance as The King of the Moon in The Adventures of Baron Munchhausen just two years prior, Robin forged a timely relationship with former Monty Python alum Terry Gilliam. Partnered with the perfect straight man in the form of Jeff Bridges, the three delivered Gilliam's most even and satisfying movie to date: The Fisher King.

Williams was so popular with moviegoers his career seemed insulated against failure. Even when Steven Spielberg's Hook famously bombed in 1991 he rebounded one short year later with a characteristically improv-a-licious vocal performance as the Genie in Aladdin.

Robin was still being offered plenty of A-list material so he had no problems bouncing back from the occasional dud. For every Toys, Jack or Flubber there was an Awakenings, a Jumanji, a Mrs. Doubtfire or a Birdcage. In 1997 wunderkind screenwriters Ben Affleck and Matt Damon saw their script for Good Will Hunting get fast-tracked when Williams signed on to play Dr. Sean McGuire. This proved to be a shrewd move for Williams since his performance in that film earned him an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor.

But just like everything else in Hollywood, what goes up must invariably come down. After his Oscar win, things seem to peter out a bit for Williams with a string of forgettable movies. As if sensing that he had nothing to lose, Robin took on his most daring and challenging role to date: that of the socially-crippled stalker Seymour "Sy" Parrish in the tremendously unsettling One Hour Photo.

Except for a memorable supporting role in Night at the Museum as Teddy Roosevelt, from that point on Williams was largely relegated to a string of disposable "comedies" like RV, Father's Day, License To Wed and The Big Wedding. His constant breakneck pace of making anywhere from one to six (!) movies a year seems rather telling to me. Was he a slave to public attention? Did he have addictions to feed? Was he a chronic workaholic? Did he fear obscurity if he didn't keep cranking out at least one movie a year, regardless of quality? Or he just feel as if he was running out of time?

Considering the high quality of his previous roles, I'm sure that Robin must have looked at the scripts he was being offered as a fifty / sixty year old actor as a step backwards. A recent failed trip back into the ghetto of mediocre network television must have been particularly galling.

On the surface Robin was such a happy, ebullient and positive person critics probably though that he was completely immune to their barbs. Whenever one of his films didn't live up to expectations, Robin often bore the brunt of critical wrath. Here's a particularly catty review by Peter Debruge in Variety for The Angriest Man in Brooklyn: 

"It’s movie night, and you can choose between crazy-shouty Robin Williams (think The Fisher King) and blubbering feel-good Robin Williams (like the one who discovers his son, dead from autoerotic asphyxiation, in World’s Greatest Dad). Which would you prefer? Trick question! In The Angriest Man in Brooklyn, you can have it both ways, as Williams plays the human equivalent of a bulging forehead vein who learns he has 90 minutes to live and spends the rest of the movie making amends, like Ebenezer Scrooge at the end of A Christmas Carol. Most auds will prefer have no Robin Williams at all."

But it wasn't just a career dip that killed the comedy genius. He'd been down many times before and stormed back from darker places. No, I think that the reason he's no longer with us is a lot more clinical and chronic then that.

As a kid the very concept of suicide never once crossed my mind. Even during my loneliest, most awkward times I could derive a tremendous amount of happiness from the simplest things in life. Plus, I always felt surrounded by people who loved and supported me, people who would be gutted if I were suddenly gone. But the older I get the more the concept of voluntarily opting out starts to make the tiniest smidgen of sense.

In the movie The Weatherman (not starring Robin Williams, co-incidentally, but Nick Cage back when he obviously had more discriminating taste in scripts) the main character of David (!) Spritz (!!!) is a frustrated writer who falls back into a lingering, unwanted career as a locally-derided weatherman. At one point he observes:

"I remember once imagining what my life would be like, what I'd be like. I pictured having all these qualities, strong positive qualities that people could pick up on from across the room. But as time passed, few ever became any qualities that I actually had. And all the possibilities I faced and the sorts of people I could be, all of them got reduced every year to fewer and fewer. Until finally they got reduced to one, to who I am. And that's who I am, the weather man." 

Now, depending on your outlook on life this is either very life-affirming or one of the most depressing things you'll ever read. I tend to subscribe to the later interpretation, especially in light of this particular quote by Tyler Durden in Fight Club:

"We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars, but we won't. We're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off." 

This life-long process of disappointment begins as soon as we hit adulthood and the realistic options of what we can be and do immediately starts to shrink. Then, as soon as we hit age thirty, the options get pared down again. Then, with each and every passing decade, our modern society tells us that the seemingly infinite number of choices we had as kids has now been whittled down to just a few. Or worse: only one.

I've written before about how society is less then kind to people of seniority. We live in a culture that worships youth and age discrimination is the last bastion of socially acceptable discrimination. On his current press junket for The Expendables 3, Sylvester Stallone seems to be getting an inordinate amount of "Hey, aren't you too old for this?" or "Why the fuck haven't you retired already?" questions. Who gives a shit, I say? If you don't want to watch a film starring a bunch of older actors then don't go see it. Why question his right to keep doing what he wants to do?

Robin endured a birthday recently just one day after my own and I can tell you right now: nothing makes a person more depressed than society as a whole trying to convince you that your best days are behind you. The really scary thing is that, in my estimation, Robin is one of the lucky few who "made it". He appeared to be financially solvent and he'd obviously made a slew of memorable movies that made him universally adored and effectively immortal.

Which inspires the scariest question of them all: if someone like Robin Williams can't survive seniority then what hope do any of us have?

Which is why I want to ensure that everyone who reads this doesn't harbor such thoughts for even so much as a second.

The bottom line is that Robin was struggling with illness, both mental and (as we just learned a few days ago) physical as well. Clearly he wasn't healthy and all of his high-profile connections and financial resources couldn't help him. If you've ever been unfortunate enough to lose someone to suicide you know how inevitable it can feel sometimes. A constant battery of support and treatment is needed just to keep these people alive, let alone permanently banish thoughts of self-harm from their heads. Which inspires another question: did Robin's chemical dependency deepen because of depression or was it just an effort to self medicate the chemical imbalance out of his own brain?

But here's the real truth: most of us arrive at age sixty-three or some other major milestone feeling challenged and sanguine but otherwise fairly upbeat. If you, Gentle Reader, like Robin, find yourself constantly wrestling with inescapable thoughts of downward spirals or a sense of inevitable finality that you can't overcome, then seek help now.

Remember: as dark as things look right right now the paradigm can shift and with it comes new and exciting possibilities.

Because even one new option is better then none.

EPIC HELP   There are a lot of great organizations out there to help people in crisis. S.A.V.E. (Suicide Awareness Voices of Education) is looking for a silver lining in this tragedy by trying to increase awareness about this very serious mental health epidemic.

EPIC DOC  If you don't believe that suicidal folks feel crushed by constant feelings of inevitability then you need to watch this amazing documentary. Then again, you may not if only because it's incredibly heart-breaking.

EPIC CLIP  For me, nothing encapsulates Robin's amazing gifts quite like his ability to entertain a live audience.

FAIL-URE OF WORDS   This short poem I wrote a few years ago seems to apply. But only just so...

Scouting Party

It is a wise invention
          that we leave in generations.
Heroes and icons we come to regard as immortal
                  age and blaze a trail for us.
And make the inevitable passing
                                     a little more tolerable.         

The Same Page

Pozdrowienia, Media Magnates!

Take a look at this photo:

Okay, now have a gander at this one:

Similar-looking photos have inspired the following meme:

But actually there is a difference. There's a helluva big f#@king difference.

In the first olde-timey photo, commuters are being informed about what's important by a horde of independent, muck-raking journalists. Literally everyone is on the same page. In the second photo it's much more likely that people are texting their lunch plans, watching cat videos or playing Candy Crush.

'C'mon, Dave,' I can hear you saying, 'Isn't that just a wee bit cynical?'

Okay, fine, then. Let's just say for argument's sake that everyone in the second photo is doing some independent research - *Pffffttt!!!* - on climate change. The question then becomes are they watching this:

Or this:

Let's look at another example. Say I wanna investigate the income gap in the United States. Do I go watch this:

Or do I watch a report that tries to re-brand the issue as "class warfare":

Maybe I want to check out a retrospective on the Iraq War. I could go with a learned, well-researched documentary featuring expert testimony:

Or watch an op-ed segment featuring a moron who can barely read a teleprompter:

If I'm keen to understand the current strife between the Israelis and the Palestinians I could scope out this reasonably well-balanced animated summary:

Or I could listen to a platoon of hyperbole-spewing tub-thumpers regurgitate theie politically-motivated marching orders:

Speaking of Obama, how's his new Affordable Care Act doing? Well, here's an opinion piece which features the increasingly-rare use of something called "facts":

Or I could subscribe to landed immigrant / professional contrarian Stuart Varney's view and throw the public health care baby out with the President's bathwater simply because the "progressive" ("Ewwwww!!!") desire to improve a country's standard of living should always be rejected wholesale as rank "socialism":

And herein lies the big difference.

In the first photo a clutch of well-informed citizens arrive at work, gather around the lunch table and engage in rabble-rousing conversations about society's genuine ills. In the second photo everyone is cherry-picking whatever re-enforces their own myopic view of the world, even if it's flat-out wrong.

So, until most of us get back on the same page together and the concept of "liberal" and "conservative" are abandoned in favor of the much more sensible paradigm of "right" and "wrong", the divide will continue to grow between us.

And not much of anything is gonna get done. 

EPIC NEW RULE  Leave it to Bill Maher to summarize this concept very nicely.

A "FAIL"-URE TO COMMUNICATE  So close yet so far away.

L'il Shooters

 
I've already talked about the process by which yours truly woke up one day only to discover that I'd inadvertently been transformed into a card-carrying nerd. As such, you'd do well to assume that my pre-University love life was virtually non-existent and can easily be summarized thusly:

• At around age five or six my heterosexuality was presaged by an episode of Wonder Woman starring Lynda Carter. This was confirmed several years later thanks to Erin Gray as Wilma Deering in Buck Rogers.
• In Grade Two I became smitten with a scrawny, dark-haired girl named Ann who was missing her two front teeth. So enraptured was I by this siren that I invited her over to my place one day after school to help me color my favorite Batman coloring book page. Unfortunately no sooner then we'd both sprawled out on my bedroom floor she began to willfully and almost maliciously color outside of the lines. Then, when she proceeded to render the Dark Knight's tights in a day-glo orange, I put my hand on hers, lowered her crayon and then politely asked her to leave. With that our whirlwind love affair was over and our relationship from that point on was "chilly" at best.
• Around Grade Five I developed a crush on a girl who shared her first name (if not the exact spelling) with a certain Star Wars Princess. Now, I don't know if it was her nebulous connection to "a galaxy far, far away" or the fact that she was legitimately cute, but I was enamored with her at first sight. Even though she was always polite and kind to me I'm pretty sure her feelings weren't mutual. The point is moot anyway since I was far too chickenshit to ever express my feelings to her.
• In Grade Six a girl told me that another girl "likes me". I didn't act on this hot tip either because I was too scared, too stupid or too "m'eh" to follow up on it. Many years later I'd be faced with a similar situation and my reaction then would indeed be telling.    
• Around this same time I started lugging around a massive torch for the daughter of some family friends. I remember my distinct horror when she spontaneously walked into my room and saw that I still kept my stuffed Snoopy, Garfield and Papa Smurf proudly displayed on my bed. MACHISMO FAIL.
• In Grade 11 the old "wrong girl likes me" scenario reared its addle-brained head again. An aggressive-but-cute, mini-skirt-wearing Cadet started hanging out by my locker every morning and calling my house. This really did scare the crap outta me because prior to this I'd been brainwashed to think that (A) Only guys are supposed to ask girls out (B) Girls who break this taboo must be "loose" (as if that's a bad thing) (3) You shouldn't get involved with someone unless you really, really like them. Yes, I know how idiotic this sounds. Trust me, if I could go back in time and set young me straight, I would. For starters, I'd debunk all of this bullshit Puritan / Victorian / Catholic crap I'd inherited from my parent's sexually-frustrated generation. "Go ahead, have some fun, you crazy kids!" I'd opine to younger me. "Just be careful, set realistic expectations and, for the love of everything holy, DO...NOT...HURT...HER. If you hurt her, I'll kill you myself." Honestly, this small piece of advice would have done me a world of good. 
• The real girl of my dreams in High School was a smart, sassy, no-nonsense chick with a shock of Captain Caveman hair and a penchant for playing the drums ("SQUEEEEE!!!"). In a blatant attempt to spend more time with her I offered to drive her home from school every day but even with these numerous chances I never drummed (Hah! "Drum", geddit?) up the courage to ask her out. In fact, all I could come up with were stupid music-related questions like "Sooooo...do you think that Terence Trent D'Arby could be the next, um... Michael Jackson?" What an idiot. Anyway, by the time I did screw up the courage to ask her out she was already going out with some other putz. *cue sad trombone sound* 

During all these trials and tribulations I never once thought that it was the girl's failing for not liking me. I knew that, at best, my appeal was limited. I was scrawny, nonathletic, bespectacled, geeky and had appallingly-uninspired fashion sense. Worst still: I was a sheltered and insular only child with woefully inadequate social skills. Again, I always recognized these as my own personal failings, not anyone else's.

In fact, I didn't get bitter about this until my woefully-poor track record with the opposite sex followed me  into my first year of University. This was clearly evidenced in the following heavy-handed poem that I wrote around that time:

Subtle Observation

I am content in the knowledge
   That the one you have chosen
           Has brought so much amusement
                  To so many.

(shaken heads)
(pointed fingers)
(suppressed laughter)

So it stands revealed:

You were not perfect after all.

Sure, I wasn't the best conversationalist in the world, but I was still a decent, nice person. In the immortal words of Roger A. Graham:

I'm so sad and lonely
Sad and lonely, sad and lonely
Won't some sweet mama come and take a chance with me?
'Cause I ain't so bad.

I started to get angry, depressed and kinda resentful as I watched one pretty, sweet, smart girl after another debase herself in a desperate attempt to snag the fleeting attentions of some rampant douchebag. 'I don't get it,' I'd lament to myself, usually while overdosing on depressingly-toxic levels of Leonard Cohen albums, 'I'd treat her like gold. Why would she pick him over me?'

Deep down I still knew that the onus was on me. Whatever you wanted to say about those guys, they were supremely confident or gave the air of supreme confidence. I had all the charisma of Eeyore and that followed me around like a permanent raincloud. Eventually my solitude became a self-fulfilling prophecy.

But even at my lowest point the concept of violently lashing out at another human being never once crossed my mind. Which begs the question: what was the difference between me at that age and a kid like Elliot Rodger who, back on May 23'rd, totally snapped and killed six people and injured thirteen more before finally turning the gun on himself.

Well, this is only guesswork but let's see if I can inventory some the things that I had going for me that maybe Elliot didn't:

(1) I had absolutely amazing parents who were never in absentia. They were always there for me and everything I said and did was influenced by their powerful moral barometer. No matter how busy they were they'd always take the time to check in on me, to ask me how my day went even though my responses were fleeting. The unspoken message was always clear: these people actually give a shit about me.

(2) Even though my parents were really cool people and I usually got along fine with them they were never my "friends". It wasn't their goal to be "buddies" with me and seek out my approbation and approval. Quite the opposite: they were keen disciplinarians who I feared, respected and was always loathe to cross. Since there was always one or more of them around they never felt the need to overcompensate for chronic absence. Having said that, they were supremely generous and giving people, likely because they wanted to make up for all the creature comforts they didn't have as kids.

(3) As a kid, the burden of guilt was always on me. One time back in Junior High I didn't feel like doing a project so my teacher actually picked up the phone and called my parents. Even though I could only hear half of the conversation I knew that, like Lucy, I'd have some serious splainin' to do when that phone hung up. My parents didn't get defensive and push back against the teacher or demand to know why he'd failed to motivate me. Nope, they sided, rather logically, with the educated adult professional and not the cocky, self-centered kid who somehow thought that he could get away with it. Now, they didn't always assume that I was lying or that all adults were infallible but they knew me well enough to recognize my own unique brand of bullshittery and call me out on it. There were always consequences. It's called tough love, modern day parents. Look into it.

(4) My dedicated, omnipresent parental units made sure to impart in me an empathy for everyone and everything. I couldn't even hurt a fly. Like literally, if I found a fly indoors I'd capture it, take it outside and release it. This dovetailed with an almost pathological desire to be liked. Rarely would I ever lose my temper with another human being, almost to a fault. To this day, I'll never go aggo on another person. Instead, my frustration towards idiots tend to manifest itself in the random destruction of some uncooperative inanimate object. I get this directly from my mom who used to verbally lash out at things by saying "Look, look! The Devil's in that now!"

Okay, that sounded kinda bad. For the record, Mom didn't actually believe that stubborn door locks or malfunctioning toasters were actually possessed by Satan. Or, at least I don't think she did. Hmmmm...

(5) Related to this last point, the cold, antiseptic interface of social media didn't exist when I was a kid. If you wanted to be an asshole to someone you either had to do it right to their face, bitch 'em out over the phone or talk shit about them behind their back to whoever was within earshot. Nowadays you can easily annihilate someone's reputation via a series of malicious texts, Facebook posts or Tweets. And the scariest thing about this is that you never have to witness first hand the pain and misery you cause to your intended target. In fact, if you're particularly bloodless bastard, your conscience won't even feel a twinge. Indeed, inflicting anonymous digital harm on someone isn't just cruelly effective it's virtually consequence-free. Which leads me to believe that the first victim in a technology-obsessed world is empathy. 

(6) Sadly, mine was a gentler, more naive time. Not by much, mind you, but by just enough. It's almost comical to look back on alarmist Eighties-era news report claiming that the action movies I watched or the abstract, pixelated video games I played were "too violent". This is especially true when you compare those  antiquated, almost quaint pursuits to the today's cinematic torture porn or console-based killing simulators. Now, don't get me wrong, I would never, ever blame a mass shootings on violent media but I am calling out dumb, permissive, soft-as-shit parents who let their kids marinate in solution-based violence as soon as they can hold their heads upright. I'm no child psychologist but I can't imagine how exposure to this at a tender and formative age could do anything but irreparable harm yo your kid's psyche. Yet time and time again I hear stories of numb-nut, trying-too-hard parents unquestionably giving their kids the latest Grand Theft Auto or obliviously taking them to see Silent Hill: Revelation 3-D. Cripes, people like that need to be sterilized.

(7) "Guns? Where? Where!?!" In the United States, where firearms are more commonplace then Pokemon cards, a whole lotta folks are pretty durned obsessed with an antiquated Second Amendment which they believe gives them the right to pack more heat then Neo in The Matrix. After some independent research, I discovered to my shock and awe that a lot of these people maintain an over-compensatory stockpile of military hardware not for hunting or home defense but in case they need to overthrow the freakin' government if and when it gets too corrupt. Notwithstanding the compelling case that the government actually is totally corrupt, this still doesn't explain how a bunch of camo-wearing yahoos are supposed to go toe-to-toe with F-22 Raptor stealth fighter jets, M1 Abrams tanks and highly-trained troops armed with frikkin' lasers. Which begs the question: is this sort of rampant paranoia worth the sheer proliferation and easy accessibility that kids seem to have to guns? Sure, NRA types like to cite the odd, rare example where a "good guy" with a gun stops a "bad guy" with a gun but are these same people aware of just how many "bad guys" out there apparently don't give a shit (see SOCIETAL FAIL below). Sure, we've got a bunch of penis-deprived neckbeards exercising their "open-carry" rights by "guarding" department stores, restaurants and coffee shops with AR-15's strapped to their backs but do they realize how many normal people they're terrorizing by doing this? Sorry, but until you can guarantee the mental health of every single private sector gun owner in the United States, hardware like this should only be the possession of the military or law enforcement. Personally speaking, the only weapons I ever saw as a kid were BB guns and my dad's 10-gauge shotgun which was permanently ensconced on the basement wall. For all intents and purposes, that sucker was purely ornamental.

***

I really wanted to write this entry from a positive perspective. I didn't want to point fingers at Elliot Rodger, shine a light on his self-absorbed "manifesto" or turn his clearly-suffering parents into pariahs. I also didn't want to speculate about our own recent regional rampage or give that particular nut any more publicity. Instead I really wanted pay homage to the resources that were there me me as a kid. Resources that allowed me to turn out reasonably well-adjusted despite growing up under vaguely similar circumstances.

I'll leave it up to you, Gentle Reader, to discern the lessons inherent in my story and determine what if any of it still applies to our wacky modern-day world.

EPIC OBSERVATION Louis C.K. explains in his own inimitable and characteristically-hilarious way why we're all becoming emotionally dead inside and and increasingly callous to our fellow human beings.

EPIC LOGIC  Some mo' science, courtesy of political comedian John Oliver:

SOCIETAL FAIL There have been one-hundred and twenty five mass shootings in the U.S. since the start of the year, including one that just happened two days ago in Miami. Nope, no problems here.