Showing posts with label Movies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Movies. Show all posts
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
May 29, 2009: Robot Sighting
LOLSCHACH's JOURNAL: May 29, 2009
Dreiberg left his computer on. Apparently was doing research on top-secret military schematics as opposed to toys and pornography. Curiosity got the better of me.
Led me to this site. Had to wade through Japanese encoding and lewd pop-ups before finding something... shocking.
A new clue to add to the Mission City investigation. Truckers appear to be conspiring with military, aliens: donating flame-painted, homosexual Peterbuilt trucks for use to create robotic titans capable of mating with fighter jets. Result is horrific, undeniably awesome amalgamation of the two.
Comment under top-secret photos only said, "Revenge is Coming... in My Pants."
Do not understand this cryptic statement. Wish to not explore whose pants, exactly.
Will keep possibility of robot Armageddon in mind.
Dreiberg left his computer on. Apparently was doing research on top-secret military schematics as opposed to toys and pornography. Curiosity got the better of me.
Led me to this site. Had to wade through Japanese encoding and lewd pop-ups before finding something... shocking.
A new clue to add to the Mission City investigation. Truckers appear to be conspiring with military, aliens: donating flame-painted, homosexual Peterbuilt trucks for use to create robotic titans capable of mating with fighter jets. Result is horrific, undeniably awesome amalgamation of the two.
Comment under top-secret photos only said, "Revenge is Coming... in My Pants."
Do not understand this cryptic statement. Wish to not explore whose pants, exactly.
Will keep possibility of robot Armageddon in mind.
Monday, May 18, 2009
May 18, 2009: Seusschach Goes Hollywood
Excerpt from "SEUSSCHACH Goes Hollywood and Other Tales", originally published October 22, 1974.
It was a dark, lonely night and Veidt’s face was quite long,
Shouting over and over, “Where did I go wrong?
“My life’s halfway through and I’ve done nothing of merit,
A nobody forever? I simply can't bear it!”
So he pondered and thought and when he was through,
He sprang to his feet, “I know just what I’ll do!
“I’ll make a movie that’s about nothing but me!
Millions will go watch it and then they will see,
“How awesome I am and that Seusschach’s a big prick!
For accuracy’s sake, I’ll add a huge glowing dick!”
And with his film’s cast in mind, Veidt ran out the door,
He’d need a crazy, a fatty, a god and a whore.
He gathered them up, but they weren’t hard to find,
He’d written the parts with his friends all in mind.
Seusschach first refused, thinking Veidt’s script was weak,
“I die at the hands of a glowing blue freak!?”
But Veidt promised Seusschach he’d be back in ‘Part 2’,
“You’re too popular to kill off! No really, it’s true!”
An extra zero on his check, Seusschach shot the scene,
Veidt shouting all the while, “You’re the next Steve McQueen!”
A year and a half later, the movie was played,
But the returns were so bad, nobody got paid!
Veidt’s movie had bombed, but he had worse things to fear,
Seusscach was outside screaming, “Open up, you queer!
“I’ve got a bat in my hands, so prepare to be trounced,
Unless you can tell me why my paycheck just bounced!”
And so he beat Veidt to death, crying, “You cheapskate! You bum!
“I knew it would flop; there were script problems from Day One!”
Shouting over and over, “Where did I go wrong?
“My life’s halfway through and I’ve done nothing of merit,
A nobody forever? I simply can't bear it!”
So he pondered and thought and when he was through,
He sprang to his feet, “I know just what I’ll do!
“I’ll make a movie that’s about nothing but me!
Millions will go watch it and then they will see,
“How awesome I am and that Seusschach’s a big prick!
For accuracy’s sake, I’ll add a huge glowing dick!”
And with his film’s cast in mind, Veidt ran out the door,
He’d need a crazy, a fatty, a god and a whore.
He gathered them up, but they weren’t hard to find,
He’d written the parts with his friends all in mind.
Seusschach first refused, thinking Veidt’s script was weak,
“I die at the hands of a glowing blue freak!?”
But Veidt promised Seusschach he’d be back in ‘Part 2’,
“You’re too popular to kill off! No really, it’s true!”
An extra zero on his check, Seusschach shot the scene,
Veidt shouting all the while, “You’re the next Steve McQueen!”
A year and a half later, the movie was played,
But the returns were so bad, nobody got paid!
Veidt’s movie had bombed, but he had worse things to fear,
Seusscach was outside screaming, “Open up, you queer!
“I’ve got a bat in my hands, so prepare to be trounced,
Unless you can tell me why my paycheck just bounced!”
And so he beat Veidt to death, crying, “You cheapskate! You bum!
“I knew it would flop; there were script problems from Day One!”
-----------------------------------
LOLSCHACH's Journal: May 18, 2009
Odd how the chronicles of Uncle Seusschach so closely resemble the life and times of LOLSCHACH. Suspicious. Precognition involved somehow? Must investigate Seusschach's personal life more thoroughly.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
May 14, 2009: Film Festival
LOLSCHACH's JOURNAL: May 14, 2009
Was watching Unsolved Mysteries to compile list of things to investigate next weekend when Veidt called. Invited me to attend film festival this weekend, has two tickets to attend. Wanted to invite Dreiberg, who is currently incapacitated.
Declined. Do not like Veidt. Do not like Veidt's company. Especially detest any attempt for him to canoodle me in the dark abyss of the celluloid gods. Chance for hands, sweaty and sticky, hopefully from popcorn butter, to reach into my personal space.
But most of all, hate film festivals out of principle. Aggregate of independent movies filmed by conceited art students attempting to shove their misguided, ambiguous, bohemian world views down the visual gullets of equally turgid audiences desperately seeking significance in meaningless, self-righteous attempts at cinematic art.
Unique, just like everyone else. Not like big budget sell-outs they hope to be someday when not making crappy movies.
Movies always follow one of a set number of formulas. Will list here. Elucidate.
#1: A [positive adjective] look at how a young group of [minority or advocacy group] overcomes adversity in [small town or 3rd world country] and discover themselves.
#2: Boy meets girl. Boy falls in love with girl. Girl does not. Awkward silences in between. Black and white, still shots. Crappy music. Along the way, discover themselves.
#3: Family / friends struggle as character / characters pursue dream to be [unsuccessful profession, never "doctor" or "lawyer"]. Seek to find themselves.
#4: Western progress is bad. America is bad. Must go back to stone age. Discover selves.
#5: [Whiny advocacy group] struggles against [generic oppressor] to overcome [social malady] and bring awareness to [cause]. Journey allows them to discover themselves.
#6: Foreign film.
#7: In lonely [not New York], [number] friends form an unlikely relationship that will change their lives forever. Try to discover themselves.
#8: A struggling author/ artist/ journalist finds himself in a bizarre series of events. Finds himself.
#9: A sad woman / man must embrace [lofty metaphor] to overcome tragedy/ adversity, discover him/ herself.
#10: Gay cowboys eating pudding.
Was watching Unsolved Mysteries to compile list of things to investigate next weekend when Veidt called. Invited me to attend film festival this weekend, has two tickets to attend. Wanted to invite Dreiberg, who is currently incapacitated.
Declined. Do not like Veidt. Do not like Veidt's company. Especially detest any attempt for him to canoodle me in the dark abyss of the celluloid gods. Chance for hands, sweaty and sticky, hopefully from popcorn butter, to reach into my personal space.
But most of all, hate film festivals out of principle. Aggregate of independent movies filmed by conceited art students attempting to shove their misguided, ambiguous, bohemian world views down the visual gullets of equally turgid audiences desperately seeking significance in meaningless, self-righteous attempts at cinematic art.
Unique, just like everyone else. Not like big budget sell-outs they hope to be someday when not making crappy movies.
Movies always follow one of a set number of formulas. Will list here. Elucidate.
#1: A [positive adjective] look at how a young group of [minority or advocacy group] overcomes adversity in [small town or 3rd world country] and discover themselves.
#2: Boy meets girl. Boy falls in love with girl. Girl does not. Awkward silences in between. Black and white, still shots. Crappy music. Along the way, discover themselves.
#3: Family / friends struggle as character / characters pursue dream to be [unsuccessful profession, never "doctor" or "lawyer"]. Seek to find themselves.
#4: Western progress is bad. America is bad. Must go back to stone age. Discover selves.
#5: [Whiny advocacy group] struggles against [generic oppressor] to overcome [social malady] and bring awareness to [cause]. Journey allows them to discover themselves.
#6: Foreign film.
#7: In lonely [not New York], [number] friends form an unlikely relationship that will change their lives forever. Try to discover themselves.
#8: A struggling author/ artist/ journalist finds himself in a bizarre series of events. Finds himself.
#9: A sad woman / man must embrace [lofty metaphor] to overcome tragedy/ adversity, discover him/ herself.
#10: Gay cowboys eating pudding.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
April 08, 2009: Mission City Visit
LOLSCHACH's JOURNAL: April 8, 2009
Awoke to darkness. Light from window obscured by unseen object. Dreiberg blocking the window? Went outside and found ominous poster was the culprit.
Ehh. Revenge is coming. First suspicions go towards endless list of enemies planning retributive attack. Realize the concept is silly: most of them are dead. No, this is something much worse. Glowing red eyes on page and jagged metal visage only shed hint of light as to who the attacker is. Then it occurs to me.
Summer of 2007. All over the news. Personally went to investigate. No leads at that time. All makes sense now. Spend two hours going around apartment hunting for loose change, run to nearest bus station. Stupid, stupid. Why did it not occur to me sooner? Small letters under poster signed "Bay." Always thought it was clue for possible attack on San Francisco. But San Francisco attack came and went, summer of 1996. Terrorists took over Alcatraz. Threatened biological attack on San Francisco. Foiled by Ghost Rider. Two years later, mysterious posters appeared labelled "Armageddon." Also signed "Bay". World nearly ended. Major cities destroyed to the tune of Aerosmith. Strangely entertaining, yet stupid.
Then May 21, 2001. Day which will live in infamy. "Bay" attacks Pearl Harbor. Countless dollars wasted. Battleships sunk. Tears from realization of hours wasted. Must not be allowed again. Potential alien invasion must be thwarted at all costs.
Took bus to Mission City. Did not want to associate attack of 2007 with possible involvement by Veidt, due to unpleasantness of yesterday's visit. However, high level technology and government involvement is not outside Veidt's grasp. Must seek clues.
Arrive in Mission City. Recall the summer of 2007.
It is July. Mid-day. The sun sets three times in 24 hours. Suddenly, explosions rock the downtown area. Reports of strange, bio-mechanical automatons fighting in the streets. More explosions. Linkin Park music heard everywhere, source unknown. Amidst the chaos, a man tries to buy a refreshing caffeinated beverage from a Mountain Dew machine. The machine turns into a horrific steel shoggoth, its arms the dispensers of aluminum death bullets. Man does the Dew as the beverage punches through his stomach, green fizz mixed with bile and entrails. Chaos. Explosions. The sun sets again. More explosions. Somewhere, a fat boy eating Cheetos laments the deviation from this alien invasion to ones he has seen in his past. Complains of flames painted on a truck. The sun sets.
It is April. The sun screams at me like a sun full of retarded children. There are no Mountain Dew machines to be found. Crewmen are hard at work repairing the damaged buildings, perhaps preparing for the next invasion due this June 24, 2009. Production values seem much higher. The streets resonate with the sound of sweaty fat virgins living in their mothers' basements, protesting the chaotic encore. "Truck not monkey" heard between screams.
A scantily clad girl walks by. The yellow Camaro parked close by squirts motor oil as she passes. "American Woman" blasts forth from its speakers, relevantly punctuating the awkward situation. Curious, car has no driver. Modern technology is amazing, scary.
Suddenly, onlookers look down Main Street, up at the sky. A squadron of fighter jets flies directly overhead as a sleek, pink sports car comes towards us from the vanishing point.
Too stunned to speak. Had no idea Veidt owned a transforming robot.
Just then, feel something sneaking up behind me. Turn around, only to face Lovecraftian abomination breathing into my face.
"PUNY HUMAN! THIS SUMMER... TRANSFORM YOUR THIRST! ONLY IN SELECT THEATERS! BLAAAAARRRGH!" it said.
Reverted back to extreme vending machine, leaving LOLSCHACH alone. Difficult to contemplate strange message. Attempt to decipher complexities of transforming creatures is beyond LOLSCHACH's field of expertise.
Only knowledge of aliens is the illegal type. Must return home to catch a few, send them back to home planet of Mexico.
Awoke to darkness. Light from window obscured by unseen object. Dreiberg blocking the window? Went outside and found ominous poster was the culprit.
Ehh. Revenge is coming. First suspicions go towards endless list of enemies planning retributive attack. Realize the concept is silly: most of them are dead. No, this is something much worse. Glowing red eyes on page and jagged metal visage only shed hint of light as to who the attacker is. Then it occurs to me.
Summer of 2007. All over the news. Personally went to investigate. No leads at that time. All makes sense now. Spend two hours going around apartment hunting for loose change, run to nearest bus station. Stupid, stupid. Why did it not occur to me sooner? Small letters under poster signed "Bay." Always thought it was clue for possible attack on San Francisco. But San Francisco attack came and went, summer of 1996. Terrorists took over Alcatraz. Threatened biological attack on San Francisco. Foiled by Ghost Rider. Two years later, mysterious posters appeared labelled "Armageddon." Also signed "Bay". World nearly ended. Major cities destroyed to the tune of Aerosmith. Strangely entertaining, yet stupid.
Then May 21, 2001. Day which will live in infamy. "Bay" attacks Pearl Harbor. Countless dollars wasted. Battleships sunk. Tears from realization of hours wasted. Must not be allowed again. Potential alien invasion must be thwarted at all costs.
Took bus to Mission City. Did not want to associate attack of 2007 with possible involvement by Veidt, due to unpleasantness of yesterday's visit. However, high level technology and government involvement is not outside Veidt's grasp. Must seek clues.
Arrive in Mission City. Recall the summer of 2007.
It is July. Mid-day. The sun sets three times in 24 hours. Suddenly, explosions rock the downtown area. Reports of strange, bio-mechanical automatons fighting in the streets. More explosions. Linkin Park music heard everywhere, source unknown. Amidst the chaos, a man tries to buy a refreshing caffeinated beverage from a Mountain Dew machine. The machine turns into a horrific steel shoggoth, its arms the dispensers of aluminum death bullets. Man does the Dew as the beverage punches through his stomach, green fizz mixed with bile and entrails. Chaos. Explosions. The sun sets again. More explosions. Somewhere, a fat boy eating Cheetos laments the deviation from this alien invasion to ones he has seen in his past. Complains of flames painted on a truck. The sun sets.
It is April. The sun screams at me like a sun full of retarded children. There are no Mountain Dew machines to be found. Crewmen are hard at work repairing the damaged buildings, perhaps preparing for the next invasion due this June 24, 2009. Production values seem much higher. The streets resonate with the sound of sweaty fat virgins living in their mothers' basements, protesting the chaotic encore. "Truck not monkey" heard between screams.
A scantily clad girl walks by. The yellow Camaro parked close by squirts motor oil as she passes. "American Woman" blasts forth from its speakers, relevantly punctuating the awkward situation. Curious, car has no driver. Modern technology is amazing, scary.
Suddenly, onlookers look down Main Street, up at the sky. A squadron of fighter jets flies directly overhead as a sleek, pink sports car comes towards us from the vanishing point.
Too stunned to speak. Had no idea Veidt owned a transforming robot.
Just then, feel something sneaking up behind me. Turn around, only to face Lovecraftian abomination breathing into my face.
"PUNY HUMAN! THIS SUMMER... TRANSFORM YOUR THIRST! ONLY IN SELECT THEATERS! BLAAAAARRRGH!" it said.
Reverted back to extreme vending machine, leaving LOLSCHACH alone. Difficult to contemplate strange message. Attempt to decipher complexities of transforming creatures is beyond LOLSCHACH's field of expertise.
Only knowledge of aliens is the illegal type. Must return home to catch a few, send them back to home planet of Mexico.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
March 17, 2009: Day Off
LOLSCHACH's JOURNAL: March 17, 2009
Stayed home. Fog drapes itself over the city like an oppressive mist.
Rain tickles across window panes like shell casings across blacktop.
Wet. Too wet.
Turn on TV to watch news. See children's show instead.
Reminds me of movie.
Two men. Cowboys. Riding out into the desert. Rough, tough. Happy to be embodiment of manliness. Share jokes. Watch sunset. Embrace. Kiss.
Do horrible, unclean things to each other in tent.
Lights go on. Audience stands up. Everybody claps, cries. Everybody but LOLSCHACH.
Movie wins Oscar.
Veidt sends copy to me as birthday gift. Hate him.
Stayed home. Fog drapes itself over the city like an oppressive mist.
Rain tickles across window panes like shell casings across blacktop.
Wet. Too wet.
Turn on TV to watch news. See children's show instead.
Reminds me of movie.
Two men. Cowboys. Riding out into the desert. Rough, tough. Happy to be embodiment of manliness. Share jokes. Watch sunset. Embrace. Kiss.
Do horrible, unclean things to each other in tent.
Lights go on. Audience stands up. Everybody claps, cries. Everybody but LOLSCHACH.
Movie wins Oscar.
Veidt sends copy to me as birthday gift. Hate him.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
March 14, 2009: Movie Theater
LOLSCHACH's JOURNAL: March 14, 2009
Saw a movie once.
Man goes to theatre with friend. Buys ticket, views film. Sees many characters from Watchmen. Sees many scenes from Watchmen. Very beautiful. Production design, cinematography, soundtrack all excellent. Main plot retold well. Good character moments. Reasonably entertaining.
But also frustrating. Too focused on heroes, not enough on doomed civilians. Too focused on main plot, so that important themes deemphasized. Violence too graphic during most of film, yet too tame during climax and aftermath. Very, very frustrating.
Friend asks what man thinks. Man says film misses point, like adult joke retold by schoolchild. Says ingredients good but incoherent, like cake half-baked. Says film shows promise. Says very good for test screening. Says major reediting and minor reshoots would do wonders. Says he looks forward to theatrical cut.
Friend bursts into laughter. Says, "But friend ... this is theatrical cut."
Bad music. Everybody leaves. Roll credits.
Curtains.
Saw a movie once.
Man goes to theatre with friend. Buys ticket, views film. Sees many characters from Watchmen. Sees many scenes from Watchmen. Very beautiful. Production design, cinematography, soundtrack all excellent. Main plot retold well. Good character moments. Reasonably entertaining.
But also frustrating. Too focused on heroes, not enough on doomed civilians. Too focused on main plot, so that important themes deemphasized. Violence too graphic during most of film, yet too tame during climax and aftermath. Very, very frustrating.
Friend asks what man thinks. Man says film misses point, like adult joke retold by schoolchild. Says ingredients good but incoherent, like cake half-baked. Says film shows promise. Says very good for test screening. Says major reediting and minor reshoots would do wonders. Says he looks forward to theatrical cut.
Friend bursts into laughter. Says, "But friend ... this is theatrical cut."
Bad music. Everybody leaves. Roll credits.
Curtains.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
March 9, 2009: Toys R Us Visit
LOLSCHACH's JOURNAL: March 9, 2009:
Broken yo-yo in toy aisle. Child screaming before a painted whore of a mother shoves pacifier in mouth. Walked past Barbies with their smiling eyes and devious lips. Why do they smile? Are they proud of their sexual deviancy? Of course they are. Whores.
Turned down another aisle. Figures of Watchmen stare out blankly. Comedian, Dr. Manhattan's woman, Daniel with his soft abdomen, Ozymandias with his smug smile sculpted on his cheap plastic face, but no Lolschach, no me.
All the fanboys, with their greasy fingers, grabbed them. Of course. Going home to their mothers and their Hot Pockets. Giggling about their pornography and bitching about their video games. Left bad taste in mouth. Walked out disappointed.
What does one action figure mean against so many?
No one cares. No one cares but me.
Broken yo-yo in toy aisle. Child screaming before a painted whore of a mother shoves pacifier in mouth. Walked past Barbies with their smiling eyes and devious lips. Why do they smile? Are they proud of their sexual deviancy? Of course they are. Whores.
Turned down another aisle. Figures of Watchmen stare out blankly. Comedian, Dr. Manhattan's woman, Daniel with his soft abdomen, Ozymandias with his smug smile sculpted on his cheap plastic face, but no Lolschach, no me.
All the fanboys, with their greasy fingers, grabbed them. Of course. Going home to their mothers and their Hot Pockets. Giggling about their pornography and bitching about their video games. Left bad taste in mouth. Walked out disappointed.
What does one action figure mean against so many?
No one cares. No one cares but me.
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