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Hollywood Not Optioning Nebraska Bank RobberySeptember 30, 2002 |
Norfolk, Nebraska Snapper McGee Lead Detective Vernon McCain investigates crime scene while accidentally locked in bank by slow deputy. oney, the verdict is in and Hollywood is saying a resounding "Mmm-Mnnt!" to a Nebraska bank robbery in which five were killed and three were left scared out they ever-lovin' minds by three hold-up men.
The robbery happened in Norfolk, a dead town with no night life whatsoever, when the three hold-up men shot four bank employees and one civilian like they were last year's fashions and crashed through the wall in a balls-out kaboom to flee the scene. Another customer was winged in the shoulder in true Hollywood style. Police chased down the robbers in a sweet-ass manhunt that reminds this reporter of her early years. The governor authorized the use of Black Hawk helicopter in a show of force that certainly won my heart.
Yet with all of this grade-A material, don't...
oney, the verdict is in and Hollywood is saying a resounding "Mmm-Mnnt!" to a Nebraska bank robbery in which five were killed and three were left scared out they ever-lovin' minds by three hold-up men.
The robbery happened in Norfolk, a dead town with no night life whatsoever, when the three hold-up men shot four bank employees and one civilian like they were last year's fashions and crashed through the wall in a balls-out kaboom to flee the scene. Another customer was winged in the shoulder in true Hollywood style. Police chased down the robbers in a sweet-ass manhunt that reminds this reporter of her early years. The governor authorized the use of Black Hawk helicopter in a show of force that certainly won my heart.
Yet with all of this grade-A material, don't wait for Hollywood to put this on your local theater screen.
"Frankly, most of it plays great," said Universal Vice-Vice President Armio Durkness, "the daring daylight robbery, the guns and the explosions and the Black Hawk helicopter—God, I'm wet over the Black Hawk helicopter. But the shooting of four bank people? And the customer? Bad move, guys. Makes us less sympathetic to your character. We're passing for now."
Apparently our fearsome threesome have a Master's degree in domestic terrorism, but a big fat failing grade in media savvy.
"Man, it could have been great," said MGM Studio Exec Dandelion Waters. "Three buddy bank robbers in the western United States decide to pull off that one big heist and the evil, corrupt governor—metaphorically speaking, of course—wants to bring them down so he can get re-elected. Sends out every cop in the state, even a super high-tech Airwolf-style chopper. Then they had to go and ruin it by blowing away people. Nobody wants to see that on their news and they definitely don't want to pay to see it at the theater."
Three men were arrested in a town about 76 miles away, but it could not be certain if the men were the ones they were seeking or just a couple of boy-toys doing an honest day's work. If the latter is true, this reporter needs to investigate personally.
The action and romantic notion of robbing a bank in modern America, minus the bring-me-down of the murders involved, is a dangling piece of candy that Hollywood may not resist entirely. Although reaction is slow and moviemakers aren't jumping on the wagon just yet, there is talk that maybe the story can be salvaged, with some Hollywood-sized adjustments.
"If they can make a big scarefest like the O.J. Simpson stuff into a movie, we can certainly work enough magic with the more ample material we have here," said Mike Oliphant, a stubble-faced producer at Miramax who smells like he works out often. "We dump the murders right out, that's a given—do a little more background on the characters, maybe make them three childhood friends doing it all for the memory of a friend who died too soon. You know, cancer, AIDS, that West Nile stuff is big right now. I'm starting to like it. Kind of a 'our last big shot to take the brass ring.' It's do-able."
The real story is being sought by many moviemakers right now, but only to see if there's any usable gold nuggets within. If not, Tinsel Town is famous for making their own brand of gold dust.
"If people wanted reality, they'd watch the news," said Dreamworks consultant John Dorfenfoof. "Or maybe not the news. Definitely not Fox News. But they'd watch something. Not movies." the commune news is so touched by your compliments we're turning a bright shade of red—big fat commie red. Stigmata Spent is back after what we are referring to as a long vacation in Bangkok. That's right, a vacation. Don't think about it anymore.
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 March 28, 2005
Effin' CrackersI saw something today that has me very concerned for the direction our culture is headed in. I was strolling past the vending machine in our downstairs neighbor Crochet! magazine's offices, which I do frequently both because I'm the only commune employee obscure enough to show my face down there without setting off an incident of feud-based violence, and also because the commune's own vending machine has been stocked with nothing but ginger snaps ever since Omar Bricks pissed off the restocker by filling the entire machine with aerosol contraceptive foam last month.
As I was marveling at Crochet!'s wondrous selection of gingerless snacks, one in particular caught my eye. There they were, on the top row and in bold typeface: "Effin' Crackers." I couldn't believe my eye, so I checked with the other one. Same result. Are we truly living in a society so rude that now even our snack foods are insulting me? I'm afraid so, occasional readers.
And when even your crackers are rude beyond the pale, you know you culture's in serious trouble. I bought some of the offending snacks just to further investigate what they were all about. They didn't taste especially offensive. They didn't taste particularly like food either, but that's to be expected of vending machine offerings. If you can't taste the oxypropyl 13, Keebler's not doing their job.
No, aside from the name these are your normal, everyday, run of the mill animal crackers...
º Last Column: Deans and Weenies º more columns
I saw something today that has me very concerned for the direction our culture is headed in. I was strolling past the vending machine in our downstairs neighbor Crochet! magazine's offices, which I do frequently both because I'm the only commune employee obscure enough to show my face down there without setting off an incident of feud-based violence, and also because the commune's own vending machine has been stocked with nothing but ginger snaps ever since Omar Bricks pissed off the restocker by filling the entire machine with aerosol contraceptive foam last month.
As I was marveling at Crochet!'s wondrous selection of gingerless snacks, one in particular caught my eye. There they were, on the top row and in bold typeface: "Effin' Crackers." I couldn't believe my eye, so I checked with the other one. Same result. Are we truly living in a society so rude that now even our snack foods are insulting me? I'm afraid so, occasional readers.
And when even your crackers are rude beyond the pale, you know you culture's in serious trouble. I bought some of the offending snacks just to further investigate what they were all about. They didn't taste especially offensive. They didn't taste particularly like food either, but that's to be expected of vending machine offerings. If you can't taste the oxypropyl 13, Keebler's not doing their job.
No, aside from the name these are your normal, everyday, run of the mill animal crackers shaped like midgets with a Victorian sense of fashion. At first, the midget shapes put me off a bit, but then I realized that you have to be pragmatic about these kinds of things. If I'm prepared to bite the head off an endangered panda or a tiny inch-tall camel coated in sugar, I'd be a hypocrite to beg off snapping a crunchy midget in half with my bicuspids. Animals are people too, you know. Well actually, they're not, but neither are dwarves. So same difference.
No, the startlingly brusque moniker these chips bear is clearly just a marketing attempt to reach out to the youth of today, rude fuckers that they are. Teenagers who have grown up immersed in a briny, electrified soup of oversaturated media cacophony are growing more and more difficult to reach through traditional marketing channels, necessitating that companies cut loose with all-out profanity to shock these kids into addressing their mild hunger needs. "Eat it—You'll like it!" and "The official snack cookie of the Bolshoi Ballet" just don't cut it anymore, readers. These days, it's "Here's your effin' crackers, jerkweed! What, do you got a poop in your mouth? Eat 'em up!"
What this says about our parasitic marketing experts is one thing, and a sad thing indeed. But what this says about our very souls is the true pants-shitter. Have we really traipsed so eagerly down this road, on the way to the total annihilation of Western culture as we know it? Have we really missed all the neon-yellow signposts along the way, warning us to turn back before we devolve into utterly debased and wretched creatures?
Oh, wait. These say "Elfin Crackers." Nevermind. º Last Column: Deans and Weeniesº more columns
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|  December 30, 1999
Mr. Dingle"I remember in my youth, I had made a mask out of rubber bands and construction paper. It was a beautiful thing, glittering with sparkles I had glued around the eye holes. I would wear it everywhere and would make people call me 'Mr. Dingle' and refer to myself in third person as in 'Mr. Dingle would like some mashed potatoes' and 'Mr. Dingle demands we watch cartoons.' One day, my father approached me with a sad look on his face. Great Aunt Mable had died of pneumonia and the family was in mourning. So my father says to me, in that gentle way of his, 'Son. We all like Mr. Dingle, but I'm afraid he's not invited to the funeral. Only you were invited.' I was stunned. I said, 'Dad! I'm 22 years old! I'll decide whether Mr. Dingle is invited or not!' Mr. Dingle enjoyed that funeral. I think Great Aunt Mable would have been...
º Last Column: Vase º more columns
"I remember in my youth, I had made a mask out of rubber bands and construction paper. It was a beautiful thing, glittering with sparkles I had glued around the eye holes. I would wear it everywhere and would make people call me 'Mr. Dingle' and refer to myself in third person as in 'Mr. Dingle would like some mashed potatoes' and 'Mr. Dingle demands we watch cartoons.' One day, my father approached me with a sad look on his face. Great Aunt Mable had died of pneumonia and the family was in mourning. So my father says to me, in that gentle way of his, 'Son. We all like Mr. Dingle, but I'm afraid he's not invited to the funeral. Only you were invited.' I was stunned. I said, 'Dad! I'm 22 years old! I'll decide whether Mr. Dingle is invited or not!' Mr. Dingle enjoyed that funeral. I think Great Aunt Mable would have been proud." º Last Column: Vaseº more columns
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Quote of the Day“The good die first. Then, the not-so good. Then the ugly. Strike that, the ugly should die first. Can I start again? If there are any good left, don't kill them yet, we've still got some uglies over here.”
-Billiam SwordswartFortune 500 CookieThe next time you give a dog as a gift, why don't you try poking some holes in the cellophane, ay handyman? Here's something to chew on: gum. Remember: you can't hurry love, but you can get your ass in motion when you're blocking the express lane, chunky. This week's lucky ducks: Donald, Daffy, Dontrelle, Fukka.
Try again later.Least Popular Benefit Concerts| 1. | USA for Canada | | 2. | MegaDeth Relief Fund | | 3. | Concert Against Bangladesh | | 4. | Frat Aid | | 5. | The More Tolerance for Fags Benefit | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 6/27/2005 Yeah, yeah, yeah, America, I know it's time for another blistering weekload of on the mark movie reviews, on the money insights, and on the couch opinions. I'll get to that in a second; right now I'm trying to figure out what makes this little wind-up dancing robot go. Have you seen these things? Just amazing. Okay, I suppose I can take a little break to review a few movies. Don't say I never did anything for you.
In Theaters Now:
Herbie: Fully Loaded Finally Hollywood has made a movie that tells both sides of the story when it comes to drunk driving. Sure, drunk drivers are the scourge of our roads and a threat to our safety and that of our children. But have you ever tried that shit? It's fun as hell! Bumpercars at the Fair don't hold a candle to...
Yeah, yeah, yeah, America, I know it's time for another blistering weekload of on the mark movie reviews, on the money insights, and on the couch opinions. I'll get to that in a second; right now I'm trying to figure out what makes this little wind-up dancing robot go. Have you seen these things? Just amazing. Okay, I suppose I can take a little break to review a few movies. Don't say I never did anything for you. In Theaters Now:Herbie: Fully LoadedFinally Hollywood has made a movie that tells both sides of the story when it comes to drunk driving. Sure, drunk drivers are the scourge of our roads and a threat to our safety and that of our children. But have you ever tried that shit? It's fun as hell! Bumpercars at the Fair don't hold a candle to the thrill of really driving through a full parking lot, diagonally. Finally-old-enough-to-funk party girl Lindsay Lohan knows all about the joys of driving by touch, and she's utterly believable as the tipsy heroine of this family-friendly crowd-pleaser. But how does Herbie (by the way, what exactly is a Love Bug? Herpes?) fare this time around? Well, now that he doesn't have to pretend like he's not drunk on high-octane go-cart fuel all the time, Herbie can finally let it all hang out and give the performance of his possessed-car career. There hasn't been a lot of competition in this category since the car that played Christine got tired of typecasting and quit the business to start a taxi service and KITT went into auto porn, but Herbie is clearly at the top of his game and has rebounded nicely from going bananas during his mid-career Robert Downey, Jr. phase. Land's End of the DeadThe question begs to be asked: If an army of the undead took over a leading casual clothing retailer, would service actually improve? Of course it would, but this film sets out to demonstrate just how much. Prices and torsos are slashed as zombie marauders descend upon everyone's favorite source of deck shoes, and third quarter profits shoot up 17%. The film is a little light on the drama until the second half, when a bunch of Australian Mad Max fans stage a hostile takeover of the chainsaw variety, but then some attractive people get almost naked and everything's fine. March of the PenguinsAlthough most of NIN's new album is way too soft and the Beanie Baby tie-ins are just disgusting, Trent Reznor and company can still turn out a killer video, which they prove with this severely belated offering from the soundtrack for Batman Returns. Clocking in at an almost-feature-length two and a half hours, some might complain that the movie remix of the song gets a little tiresome after hour two, but most everyone else will be buzzing over finally seeing a movie where they crucify a penguin. War of the World's Worst DressersTom Cruise fires his fashion consultant and starts dressing the way he wanna in this frightening futuristic tale from horrormeister Steven Spielberg. Let's just say they don't have a fashion week at Scientology Camp for a reason, kids, and Cruise is terrifyingly plausible in polyester and rodeo-clown fleece. But Tom runs into some serious competition when Boy George and Dennis Rodman show up with the CGI reanimation of Rodney Dangerfield, out to claim his crown as the world's most nakedly tacky. This is the movie Mr. Blackwell sees when he has nightmares. Well, this and 9 to 5. That's that and Jack Sprat can eat no fat, or however the nursery rhyme goes, America. Funny to think they had the Atkins diet even back then in nursery rhyme days, though I hear his wife lost more with Lean Cuisine. If any of you need me, I'll be here, taking apart this dancing robot. On second thought, fend for yourselves. I can't have any needy people cutting into my valuable robot time.   |