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Schwarzenegger Wants $99.1 Billion for Next MovieJanuary 12, 2004 |
Sacramento, CA WHIT PISTOL Gov. Schwarzenegger unveils his budget plan for 2004 on a graph drawn by friends. According to the governor, the fact it looks like a penis proves it's a good budget. merica's beloved Hitler Youth Arnold Schwarzenegger stunned the largely-Jewish world of Hollywood Friday with the announcement he would be asking an astounding $99.1 billion price tag for his next film. Schwarzenegger, whose last film Terminator 3 made a worldwide total of $366 million, would become the highest paid actor in Hollywood and the richest person to ever breathe on the planet.
The large tub of muscle defended his announcement, which followed an earlier press conference declaring a 2004 budget of $99.1 billion for the state of California. Schwarzenegger's new film price tag would not only guarantee the appearance of the actor in the movie, but help dig the state of California out of debt. As a bonus, the governor promised a red-tape free unlimited filming per...
merica's beloved Hitler Youth Arnold Schwarzenegger stunned the largely-Jewish world of Hollywood Friday with the announcement he would be asking an astounding $99.1 billion price tag for his next film. Schwarzenegger, whose last film Terminator 3 made a worldwide total of $366 million, would become the highest paid actor in Hollywood and the richest person to ever breathe on the planet.
The large tub of muscle defended his announcement, which followed an earlier press conference declaring a 2004 budget of $99.1 billion for the state of California. Schwarzenegger's new film price tag would not only guarantee the appearance of the actor in the movie, but help dig the state of California out of debt. As a bonus, the governor promised a red-tape free unlimited filming permit for the studio's film crew and the use of every Californian and his or her home for production purposes.
"It is a great deal, to think of it," said the actor, mangling the language in his usual adorable style. "To hire Arnold Schwarzenegger is to hire California. To put in a film the beautiful beaches of the state, and to film everywhere from Simi Valley to Silicon Valley. And other Valleys. Arnold Schwarzenegger is pulling together for California, and as your governor Arnold Schwarzenegger asks for every Californian to pull together for California."
The projected 2004 budget of $99.1 billion would cut millions from public health and welfare programs without raising taxes, would raise state park fees and college tuition across the state, and is built on a prediction of a gain of $2.9 billion in imaginary tax revenue. Presumably, the prospect of making California more friendly to producers who want to make a really expensive Schwarzenegger movie would create a major influx of tax money.
Besides being ridiculed as financial hari kari, Schwarzenegger's new price tag is being criticized for forcing Californians to open their homes, as well as public and private lands, to Hollywood film crews, and requiring all Californians to appear in at least one scene in a non-speaking role in the film as part of the agreement to justify the actor's high paycheck. The governor, smiling with his frightening shark teeth, dismissed the critics.
"There are people who do not want to do what is necessary to clean up the mess of all the politicians who made the mess of California. It is hard to understand what their problem is. I am the one doing all of the hardwork. I have thirty, maybe forty lines of dialogue per film. I will have to speak them. I will be the one having to make the hard faces. All the rest of the people can just stand there in the background and be quiet."
Schwarzenegger added, "Plus, I will be doing all of my own stunts. No stunt men required. Come and see the new movie to see Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger doing the dangerous stunts. I will fight the robots or all the men in costumes. I will even pretend at being gay, for comedy film. Come to see the Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger in the comedy movie to make you laugh. And help California."
The governor personally guaranteed the film would earn back all money invested, help clear California's $14 billion deficit, and launch a successful movie franchise. If the plan is successful, Schwarzenegger said he would consider doing more independent films at a fee of $3 billion each in hopes of starting a re-election fund. the commune news is still waiting for any takers on our offer to appear in a sexy softcore movie for $10 or more—remember, that includes full-frontal nudity. Shabozz Wertham is a commune correspondent currently covering California, and that's a lot of "C's" to fit into one sentence, cochise.
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 June 20, 2005
Don't Be Absurd My Dear, That's Obviously Not My ShitPlease.
Deidrebane, my dear, I tire of your ceaseless accusations. I swear this is all I've heard about all week since you found that softball-sized rock of crack cocaine in the sofa cushions. For the googleth time, darling, that's clearly not my shit. Do you see my initials monogrammed anywhere on the rock? My elegantly formal CC? Or even one of my famous "Hands Off!" post-it notes? I think not. So let's put this silly controversy to bed before I miss another moment of the Ultimate Fighting Challenge.
No, of course I don't know whose crack rock it might be. Did you ask the children? All of them? You really called Montpellier at reform school? I have to admit I'm impressed by your thoroughness, my dear. What did he have to say? Lonely? Wants to come home? Hit another student with a cue ball? Really? Now that's showing some initiative. I may have misjudged the lad. Was he playing pool or billiards? Snooker? Even better! Remind me to send him a snuff box for Father's Day. I know he's not a father, Deidrebane, but anyone can enjoy a fine mahogany snuff box. Don't be so closed-minded.
Did I see the maid rifling through the couch like she'd just lost several thousands of dollars worth of illegal narcotics? My dear, name me a day when that hasn't happened! You know how Consequa is, with her rifling. That's why we chose her from among the finalists, don't you remember? Consequa was rifling like a pro long after the others had succumbed to...
º Last Column: My Dear, Your New Children Have Become a Nuisance º more columns
Please. Deidrebane, my dear, I tire of your ceaseless accusations. I swear this is all I've heard about all week since you found that softball-sized rock of crack cocaine in the sofa cushions. For the googleth time, darling, that's clearly not my shit. Do you see my initials monogrammed anywhere on the rock? My elegantly formal CC? Or even one of my famous "Hands Off!" post-it notes? I think not. So let's put this silly controversy to bed before I miss another moment of the Ultimate Fighting Challenge. No, of course I don't know whose crack rock it might be. Did you ask the children? All of them? You really called Montpellier at reform school? I have to admit I'm impressed by your thoroughness, my dear. What did he have to say? Lonely? Wants to come home? Hit another student with a cue ball? Really? Now that's showing some initiative. I may have misjudged the lad. Was he playing pool or billiards? Snooker? Even better! Remind me to send him a snuff box for Father's Day. I know he's not a father, Deidrebane, but anyone can enjoy a fine mahogany snuff box. Don't be so closed-minded. Did I see the maid rifling through the couch like she'd just lost several thousands of dollars worth of illegal narcotics? My dear, name me a day when that hasn't happened! You know how Consequa is, with her rifling. That's why we chose her from among the finalists, don't you remember? Consequa was rifling like a pro long after the others had succumbed to fatigue and delirium. It's her calling card, like Carson with that golf stroke. You know, Rich Carson, when he had that stroke on the course? He milked that for years, dear, always japing like he'd burst a blood vessel in his brain whenever the moment called for levity. Whatever happened to him, anyway? Died of a stroke? Really? I bet it was hilarious. Yes, I suppose it could have been the butler's crack rock, now that you bring up the possibility. He's always creeping around in the shadows, answering the door at all hours of the night. Never trusted that behavior. What was his name again? Lee Butler? That's convenient. Can't believe I couldn't remember that name, how long have we had him? Is that in decades? My word. Remind me to send him a snuff box for Arbor Day. You know, dear, it could have very well been the dog's. We don't know where he goes at night. Why are you looking at me like that? I wouldn't even know where to find a five-pound rock of pure crack cocaine. Not at this hour, anyway. Let's get back to the dog thing. Have you noticed that guilty look on his face lately? And the other day he was obviously jonesing, twitching on the floor like an electrocuted sea bass. What? I don't believe for a second that all dogs do that while they're sleeping, where did you read that? Dog dreams? Have you been watching that Oprah program again? Sincerely, Deidrebane, sometimes I wonder about you. º Last Column: My Dear, Your New Children Have Become a Nuisanceº more columns
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|  June 28, 2004
Hey, Fuck You: A Brief History of Hand GesturesAnyone who's ever driven in traffic or attended a sporting event in Los Angeles no doubt has been given pause to marvel at the wide array of human emotions that can be expressed through simple hand gestures. From "Hello!" and "I bet you'd look good giving me a blowjob" to "Go ahead and merge, I'm in no hurry" (reportedly seen in Canada one time in the 70's), commuters and sports fans alike rarely need audible sounds to communicate. Borne of necessity in situations when words are impractical or likely to confuse the point, hand gestures have evolved over the eons to, if not an art, at least a really complex hobby. I'm reminded of the deaf man who just last week used a complex series of sign language gestures to indicate that I should go fuck myself, give myself AIDS and then die.
But one doesn't have to be a sign language prodigy to use the most versatile of signs, the raised middle finger. This can stand for anything from "Hey, fuck you!" to "Fuck ALL you guys over there!" or "Hey, fuck you and that chick sitting next to you who looks kinda like Julia Stiles!"
Sure, it's handy, but where did the middle finger come from? Assholes place the gesture's origin at the Battle of Agincourt in 1415, when in the course of talking trash the French boasted that they would cut off the middle fingers of the English archers after they'd won the battle. The joke here being that archers kind of need their middle fingers if they're going to properly flip somebody the...
º Last Column: La Di Da: The History of Alternative Energy º more columns
Anyone who's ever driven in traffic or attended a sporting event in Los Angeles no doubt has been given pause to marvel at the wide array of human emotions that can be expressed through simple hand gestures. From "Hello!" and "I bet you'd look good giving me a blowjob" to "Go ahead and merge, I'm in no hurry" (reportedly seen in Canada one time in the 70's), commuters and sports fans alike rarely need audible sounds to communicate. Borne of necessity in situations when words are impractical or likely to confuse the point, hand gestures have evolved over the eons to, if not an art, at least a really complex hobby. I'm reminded of the deaf man who just last week used a complex series of sign language gestures to indicate that I should go fuck myself, give myself AIDS and then die.
But one doesn't have to be a sign language prodigy to use the most versatile of signs, the raised middle finger. This can stand for anything from "Hey, fuck you!" to "Fuck ALL you guys over there!" or "Hey, fuck you and that chick sitting next to you who looks kinda like Julia Stiles!"
Sure, it's handy, but where did the middle finger come from? Assholes place the gesture's origin at the Battle of Agincourt in 1415, when in the course of talking trash the French boasted that they would cut off the middle fingers of the English archers after they'd won the battle. The joke here being that archers kind of need their middle fingers if they're going to properly flip somebody the bird after shooting them, adding insult to injury in the proper etiquette of the day. Unfortunately for the French, they weren't as good at fighting as they were at boasting, and after the battle was over the victorious English soldiers stood in a line and gave the French the one-finger salute, showing off their still-intact digits. Fortunately they didn't remember the other French boasts, which included forcing the English to eat their own food and using the English flag as a diaper for their most incontinent horse, because God knows what we'd be doing in traffic today if that had been the case.
It's a great story, but like I said, that's the asshole version of history. Believe it at your own risk. Another take on this gesture has it that the bird dates back much further, all the way to dinosaur times when it likely meant, "Hey, look up there, it's the Tyrannosaurus that ate your family. Shit, we pissed him off, run!" Though I find the notion of cavemen flipping off dinosaurs hilarious, and the possibility of a Tyrannosaurus Rex returning the gesture with one of its own tiny little hands even funnier, I can't reconcile the fact that the people telling this story are, without exception, absolute dipshits.
In all likelihood, the true origin of the dirty digit was the Greek playwright Aristophanes. Known to friends and onlookers as "The Bird" for his habit of regurgitating food into the mouths of the poor, often against their will, Aristophanes was also moderately well-known for compulsively inventing hand gestures that only he knew the meaning of. While the playwright and philosopher's name came to signify an unwanted act of charity in his own day, future generations are more in debt to his habit of giving the finger to political enemies and ungrateful paupers when they passed on the street. Aristophanes got away with the inside-joke gesture for years until he slipped up and started including it in his plays around 423 B.C., after which word spread about the gesture's meaning. After receiving several black eyes and an unfortunate black ear, the playwright was forced to invent a new "fuck you" gesture, which he wisely told no one about and took to his grave, literally, as he was buried with two fingers making a "V" on his forehead.
In time the gesture spread around the world like a game of telephone, mutating as people flipped each other off at border crossings and the half-seen insult was carried to a new land. By the time it got to China, the gesture was now a raised pinky finger, a custom which remains to this day. Though according to local legend China did have the middle-finger gesture first, but somehow the Chinese figured out how to turn that into a lethal karate move known as the "Bird of Prey" and it had to be switched to the weaker pinky finger for reasons of safety.
By the time the finger made its way to Italy and the Middle East, it was a thumb. Remember that if you're ever reviewing a movie in Sicily. Two upturned fingers in Australia will get you more than an etiquette lesson stuffed up your ass. By the time the finger got to Africa it was an open palm, however this gesture's literal translation of "eat shit" makes one think twice about shaking hands with an African.
By 1976 the finger had reached nearly to the top when Vice President Nelson Rockefeller was photographed greeting New York hippies with a rather uncreative standard bird, though at the time an embarrassed Rockefeller claimed he was just announcing that he'd found his lost contact lens. The modern flipped bird has since adapted for the 21st century, morphing into show-stopping variants such as the Cell Phone, Can You Hear This?, the Blow-Up Balloon, Peel the Banana, and the ubiquitous Sit and Spin. Even politically correct variations such as the Read Between the Lines have been developed for the dextrously-challenged.
Though "the finger" is hardly the only interesting hand gesture out there, it's not a bad place to start, and in future weeks we'll manhandle the subject more completely with in depth looks at the thumbs-up, the high-five and the peace/dos-tequilas-por-favor sign. Until then, you'll just have to read between the lines. º Last Column: La Di Da: The History of Alternative Energyº more columns
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Milestones2000: Ramrod Hurley is hired as a commune correspondent after the failure of his startup internet company, www.poopoftheday.com.Now HiringExtras. Positions available for extras in Boogie Nights 2. Minimum wage, lunch provided as well as SAG credit. Full frontal nudity required, well-endowed equipment or prosthetics a plus. Worst-Selling Children's Books1. | Green Eggs and Bad Fish | 2. | The Little Engine That Could But Just Plain Wouldn't | 3. | Bi-Curious George and His Carribean Cruise | 4. | Tales of an Armed Four Grade Nothing | 5. | Where the Wild Things are Edited for Television | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Orson Welch 5/23/2005 I have tried to tune out the entertainment "news," such as it is, this week. I may have gotten my wires crossed on this one, but is it true some theaters in Kentucky are boycotting films because of Darth Vader's involvement in the Vietnam War? That's a shame. If these prequels have shown us anything, it's that he deserves a break. How would you like to have been Hayden Christensen in your early life? Heartbreaking. But enough of the news and pathos, I move on to the DVD reviews.
Now on DVD:
Kinsey I missed this once last week. Perhaps I mistook it for a Star Wars prequel prequel—Qui-Gon tinkers around with the homosexual side of the force. In all seriousness, there's nothing terribly wrong with this movie; nothing terribly notable about it...
I have tried to tune out the entertainment "news," such as it is, this week. I may have gotten my wires crossed on this one, but is it true some theaters in Kentucky are boycotting films because of Darth Vader's involvement in the Vietnam War? That's a shame. If these prequels have shown us anything, it's that he deserves a break. How would you like to have been Hayden Christensen in your early life? Heartbreaking. But enough of the news and pathos, I move on to the DVD reviews. Now on DVD:KinseyI missed this once last week. Perhaps I mistook it for a Star Wars prequel prequel—Qui-Gon tinkers around with the homosexual side of the force. In all seriousness, there's nothing terribly wrong with this movie; nothing terribly notable about it either. Your standard brilliant mind/tortured soul run through the theater. I think we're more in need of a movie studying our current hobbled sexuality, which explodes in the most bizarre ways—"all-Playmate Fear Factor," anyone? But if I were going to remake every film I wanted to have been different, I would probably make them all non-existent. Leaving myself out of a job. So let's move on. The AviatorA long-awaited Oscar contender finally comes to DVD, where everyone can finally realize the hype wasn't worth it. Not Star Wars-quality over-hype, but not worth the adulation. Not quite the "brilliant mind/tortured soul" formula, more like "half-insane/tortured soul." The Academy really loved this mash letter to old Hollywood, but then, last year everyone was Hobbitt-crazy. Hollywood prefers its characters far more fictional. Watch for Cate Blanchett in a strangely shake-free impression of Katherine Hepburn. Pooh's Heffalump MovieWinnie the Pooh was neutered, bland entertainment back when kids were used to seeing people get murdered and beaten to death in their cartoons. Yet somehow, even in this day and age, when all children's entertainment is castrated, Pooh remains duller than ever. The audiences at a showing of Pooh's Heffalump Movie were in a catatonic state children haven't been seen in since TeleTubbies left the air. I myself was nearly lost forever to this film's coma-inducing power, but the cleaning lady happened to pull the plug while vacuuming, freeing me from its spell. I warn you all not to rent it, and whatever you do, do not mix it with alcohol or medication. The BoogeymanSpeaking of dullness. Like you all, when I was younger, my parents told me horrifying tales about a movie this awful being under my bed. A horror movie so atrocious it couldn't even make an old man with loose bladder syndrome wet himself. I can think of no excusable reason to see this movie. If you take a date to it, he or she will think you are afraid of real horror movies, and couldn't get a ticket to Heffalump. If you are caught vandalizing mailboxes and assigned to six months in jail or seeing this movie, I can guarantee you the jail time will pass faster. You are also likely to find more feminine creatures in the joint than Lucy Lawless. That's all for this week. And please, Southern theater owners, forgive Darth Vader already. For all his questionable behavior in the 1960s, at least his films contain almost epileptic action sequences that keep you from drifting away into limbo. If you can't do a good movie, at least make a kinetic one.   |