sudden impact yur ass!

We should all be thankful that we still have Clint Eastwood. The man’s been working for close to 70 years. He’s an absolute legend.

The Hollywood GOAT?

Seriously, think about that. He’s an accomplished actor AND director. It’s a career that will never be topped. Ever.

Many have tried, notably Sylvester Stallone, but it’s just not possible. (To be fair to Stallone though, Eastwood was in much more competent hands earlier in his career between Sergio Leone and Don Siegel).

This being said, Eastwood isn’t the most innovative director. In fact, when he does make a great film, it’s as though he accidentally did so. His two universally acclaimed films, Unforgiven and Million Dollar Baby, are mostly great because of their scripts (same with The Outlaw Josey Wales). Gran Torino appears to be a film with a lasting cultural impact, and while I wouldn’t say it had an outstanding script or direction, the movie works because of Eastwood’s personality, not because of anything he did behind the camera. But I’d say that Eastwood is to filmmaking what Steve Kerr is to the NBA…he’s extraordinarily competent.

Of course, when you go through a stretch where you’re making a movie ever 20 minutes, it’s hard to maintain quality.

Sudden Impact is one of the million Eastwood movies that gets lost in the shuffle. With a story from pioneering independent filmmaker and Arkansas legend Chuck B Pierce, this Dirty Harry sequel has our favorite 44 Magnum carrying San Francisco investigator being more dirty than usual. Eastwood’s then-wife Sandra Locke costars as woman exacting revenge against men who raped her 10 years earlier. I’d say that this is the best Dirty Harry sequel. Nay, this sequel is better than Dirty Harry, a film that defined raw 70s cop dramas.

What makes Sudden Impact so memorable is not the plot, I don’t remember if there was one, or character development or any of that bullshit. No, what makes this film great is watching Eastwood stumble from one scene to the next just absolutely beating the shit out of and shooting everyone. EVERYONE. To top it off, he runs around with a farting bulldog. He also kills a guy by just giving him a heart attack for fucks sake. Eastwood is just a straight up asshole, more so than usual for Dirty Harry. It’s probably that greatest Cannon film not produced by Cannon.

The film feels as though Eastwood didn’t want to return to the role and the only way they could convince him is if they allowed him to direct. And it payed off. Some of the best films made from this period were done when no one gave a shit. But Eastwood’s direction gave this entry an added edge, which is probably why Sudden Impact feels so different from the other Dirty Harry films.

While we still have him, I wish Eastwood would do ONE MORE Dirty Harry film. It’s what we need now more than ever: a 90 year old bastard just blasting the fuck out of bad guys with a 44 Magnum.

Do it Clint!

respect for Blippi

Anyone have a toddler?

So my wife got disturbed at the actor who plays Blippi, a YouTube character for kids.

“What? Did he do gay porn? Every guy has done gay porn (not me of course, I’ve never had sex),” I asked my wife.

“No. I don’t want to say. Just google it.”

So I did.

And I was glad I did. Because apparently the actor once played another character called “steezy grossman” where he made gross out videos. In one such video, he poops all over his friend.

“But it makes sense for him to poop on his friend,” I told my wife. “According to Wikipedia, the character was born as poop because his parents had anal sex. Don’t you understand art? Idiot.”

Apparently parents were pissed off about this. I don’t see what the problem is.

Has everyone forgotten about Jackass?

A dude goes into a hardware store and shits in a display toilet. It was hilarious. And if that dude started a children’s show on YouTube nowadays, no one would bat an eye!

I applaud Blippi (whatever the actor’s name). My son loves the guy. He’s got versatility.

He’s got skill, talent, a natural performer. None of us have the balls to do what he did (and does).

100 Girls: was that—a movie?

Kids forget, but there was a time before 9/11.

No one’s proud of it. But it happened.

Evidence for such a decade is the 2000 film 100 Girls. It’s hard to believe they used to make movies like that.

The plot’s pretty simple: some dude in college loses his virginity in an elevator like it’s some big deal. Then he spends the rest of the movie looking for this mystery girl in a dormitory.

His roommate also has a fucked up penis.

If this was a typical boner comedy, it probably would have been standard background noise.

You see, discussions on the differences between men and women used to be “interesting” to people. Not to me though. I thought girls were just boys with vaginas and left it at that. I would know because I’ve definitely seen a vagina. But 20 years ago, people didn’t know that.

So there were things like The Man Show, Kevin Smith films, American Pie, etc. The difference is though, occasionally those things would be funny.

100 Girls attempts to elevate the formula. And the moral of the story is this:

“Girls have boobs. But did you they also have personality? What a revelation!”

*Cue Bowling For Soup.

So be thankful that you live in a time of terrorism, pandemics, catastrophic climate change, massive wealth inequality, and dying democracies.

At least it isn’t the 90’s.

the matrix sucks (and so does it’s philosophy)

Honestly, I barely remember the Matrix. It was forgettable and bland, much like Keanu Reeves.

I’ve never seen the sequels and I never will.

Unfortunately it has left an indelible mark on our social consciousness, so I can’t but be reminded of it every time I look at the internet.

The philosophy of the Matrix has always kind of annoyed me. I don’t know if that’s the fault of the film, or by the malcontents that roam the web.

I’m vaguely familiar with Jean Baudrillard. I guess much of the film’s philosophy is influenced by his work, specifically Simulacra and Simulation. Never read it. But a quick Google search would suggest that there’s some overlap with my own personal philosophy which I discussed in “the joker sucks” series.

Since I never read Baudrillard (and probably never will) I can’t provide a valuable critique, but I’d venture to say that I’d break from his central thesis: that reality is somehow made “less real” by excessive use of “symbols”,“consumerism”, or “late stage capitalism”. (Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong on that thesis)

Reality IS distorted by human perception, and human perception is, to a degree, culturally constructed. But reality is, by definition really, real…regardless of how our perceptions change.

So, in reality, “the Matrix” in the Matrix is actually Reality, and the “desert of the real” (with all the mythology and sinister forces at play) is actually the Fantasy.

None of this matters to the quality of the film AS A FILM, but when its philosophy is utilized as genuine cultural critique by internet malcontents, they completely miss the irony.

The truth of the matter is that I don’t know what the Internet is. Is it real? A pointless fantasy projected onto real physical materiality? The “Real” Matrix that we all must escape from?

I guess it’s just mental masturbation for me.

Anyways, shit’s boring. Lost my train of thought. Basically I’m saying the same shit in “the joker sucks” but I’m applying it to the Matrix because the two are overused memes from overrated films.

Also, recognize fantasy when you see it.

Again, sorry for my tiny dick

10 Great Quotes About Poets, Poetry, and Writing by Joseph Brodsky – Originally Posted by Paul’s Poetry Playground

“Poetry is rather an approach to things, to life, than it is typographical production.” “In the business of writing what one accumulates is not …

10 Great Quotes About Poets, Poetry, and Writing by Joseph Brodsky

I’ve said before that what I enjoy about art is the immediacy of it all. In the medium of writing, poetry exhibits this the best.

Unfortunately I’m a terrible poet, so I have to resort to trash fiction instead 🤷‍♂️

But these quotes really stuck with me and they’re worth sharing.

Thanks Paul for posting these 🙏

shoot me, deadly V: my lucky day

“What’s it gonna be Luigi?” Mr. Leather said with his tommy gun.

Luigi paused and slowly lowered me to the ground. Leather pointed his tommy at Michaela.

“You’re not gonna get away with this,” she said.

“Beat it bitch,” he replied.

Luigi quickly reached for his sidearm. Mr. Leather unleashed his machine gun, blasting holes and blood everywhere. Luigi smashed through the window, falling five stories to the ground.

If the bullets didn’t kill him, the fall certainly did.

Michaela pulled a single shot derringer out of the bosom of her dress, hitting Mr. Leather in the stomach. She ran out the room. I ran over to him.

“We gotta get you to the hospital,” I said.

“Can’t. They’ll take me to prison.”

“I was a medic in the Army, I can probably stop the bleeding,” I replied.

“I’d rather go to prison.”

I helped the blood soaked Mr. Leather to the car. As we sped out of there, he took out a cigarette.

“Where you taking me?” he asked.

“The only place we can go.”

We arrived at the Big Bear cabin early in the morning. Isabella helped carry the wounded man inside.

“Who is this guy?” she asked.

“You know,” I thought for a moment. “That’s a good question.”

As Mr. Leather began fading in and out of consciousness, he began speaking to Isabella.

“Am fost îngerul păzitor al tatălui tău. Și sunt și a ta. Dar timpul meu este aproape terminat. Ai încredere în acest om prost,” he said.

“Am știut întotdeauna,” she replied.

“What did he say?” I asked.

“It’s not important,” Isabella said. “He doesn’t have long.”

“Obviously!”

“Just let me die,” Mr. Leather said. “It’s time.”

“Are you ever going to tell me who you are?” I asked.

“Fuck off,” he replied.

I shrugged and did what I could to stop the bleeding. I stayed by his side all morning.

“What’s the deal with Isabella?” I asked him.

“Poor girl,” he said. “Vito had her mother killed when she was just a little girl. Vito never understood his daughter. She grew up lonely, neglected by her own family.”

“Why did Vito kill her mother?” I replied.

“I’ll never tell.”

“Did you kill her?”

There was no reply. The mysterious man was no more.

I buried him that evening.

Isabella joined me outside over his shallow grave. I took out another cigarette.

“I don’t know if this guy was a pervert or your guardian angel. But either way, I think he was your biggest fan,” I told her.

“Michaela will find us,” she replied. “We gotta move.”

I handed her the money out of Mr. Leather’s wallet, then I emptied out my own.

“Take this,” I said. “Go to New York. Go do Broadway. Go do stand up. Go do something with your life. That’s what our mystery man would have wanted.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“My father buried an entire arsenal from his time in Korea under this land. I outta put it to use.”

a shot at the title III: money shot!

“I’m Dillon J Dudenburg. I’ve directed softcore porn. I’ve directed hardcore porn. I’ve also directed episodes of Dharma and Greg. I’ve studied under David A. Pryor, Andy Sidaris, and Godfrey Ho. I’m ready for the Big Screen. However I have some concerns with the script.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“I think we need to make the lead a heterosexual. I don’t think the Chinese market is ready for that sort of thing. But we can keep in all the gay sex,” Dillon replied.

“So the main character is straight, he just has sex with men?”

“Correct”

“I think that’s an excellent idea Dillon,” Kat interjected. “James, you need to prepare a fourth draft.”

“Very well,” I replied. I called over my production assistant, Pee-Wee.

“Pee-Wee, take note: make the main character less gay.”

“I think this has been a very productive meeting,” Kat said. “Dillon, thank you for your input. We’ll be reaching out to you shortly.”

We shook hands and Dillon exited the room.

“What do you think?” Kat asked.

“I enjoyed Take Me To Pound Town IX as much as the next guy. But he’s an asshole. I don’t think he understands my work at all,” I replied.

“Come on, James. Making films is a collaborative effort. Dillon has style, a creative flair. He is the best director for the job.”

“Or the best one we can afford,” I said.

Kat walked away when Pablo, my agent, called.

“Great news!” he said. “Kat and I have finalized your contract.”

“Oh wonderful! What did you get?”

“Well, now hear me out…”

“Pablo, what did you do?”

“Your contract is 15….“

“15..?”

“….hundred dollars. Which, of course, 45% of that goes to commission.”

“Pablo, you shit the bed on this one.”

“BUT BUT BUT you get sole screenwriting credit and 100% of the merchandising rights!”

“Pablo, the script is no longer an action romp in outer space! It’s now a melodrama in 1942 Stalingrad! What merchandising rights could there be?!”

I hung up the phone and looked for Kathrine. She was back in her office. So I climbed up the fireman pole and stormed in.

“So what am I? Your slave?!” I asked.

“First rule of Hollywood: you’re only as good as your agent,” she replied.

“The only way I can profit off this film is if we sell Nazi SS action figures! You think you can push me around? Well you got another thing coming sister!”

I slid back down the pole and found Pee-Wee.

“Pee-Wee,” I said. “When do the sets go up?”

“Uhh, Tuesday I think.”

“Load up on crank and call Dillon. We’ve got work to do.”

TO BE CONTINUED