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 January 24, 2005 |
Asian people insist you enjoy new technology
The new formats were developed by a consortium of consumer-electronics giants in response to studio complaints that current DVD technology only allowed studios to force the purchasers of their DVDs to sit through about twenty minutes of unwanted content before getting to the main feature. HD-DVD will feature a 30GB capacity, enough for fifty trailers showing coming attractions, seven FBI warnings, tw...
ans of the unskippable clutter clogging the front end of most commercial DVD releases received great news this week with the announcement that all major movie studios will begin releasing films in the HD-DVD and Blu-Ray formats later this year, allowing studios to pack even more commercials, trailers, multi-language legal disclaimers and FBI warnings onto their future releases.
The new formats were developed by a consortium of consumer-electronics giants in response to studio complaints that current DVD technology only allowed studios to force the purchasers of their DVDs to sit through about twenty minutes of unwanted content before getting to the main feature. HD-DVD will feature a 30GB capacity, enough for fifty trailers showing coming attractions, seven FBI warnings, twenty-seven commercials for other DVD releases and Pillsbury crescent rolls, and âThe views and commentary reflected on this disc do not reflectâŚâ disclaimers in forty-seven languages. The rival Blu-Ray format, developed by Sony, is expected to nearly double that content, leaving the actual main feature as a virtual afterthought printed on the biodegradable glue between disc layers.
âThese new formats are a godsend for our industry,â explained Paramount Pictures head Sherry Lansing. âLast year we had to cut ten minutes out of Top Gun just so it would fit on the DVD between the trailers we wanted to include for our seventeen most exciting upcoming releases. This time next year, our biggest problem is going to be finding a way to make sure consumers arenât napping through the two hours of product placements and trailers weâll be able to fit before the movie. Weâre already working on a feature that will crank up the televisionâs volume for the trailers, in such a way that you wonât be able to turn it back down.â
Other studios are said to be working on similar DVD technologies that would insert commercial breaks into DVD movies, add CGI product placements to films according to real-time sales figures, and one that would go so far as to turn on a consumerâs television at pre-programmed times and play time-sensitive advertisements from the DVD.
Though the movie studios are understandably excited about these technological advancements, consumer advocates question why consumers would shell out big bucks to replace their relatively new DVD players with an even more abusive technology. But Hollywood studios remain unconcerned.
âWell, they bought DVD players, didnât they?â asks Twentieth Century Fox head Hutch Parker. âDamn did they buy DVD players. I mean, with VCRs, you could just fast-forward past all the crap at the beginning, or just never rewind the tape that far. People obviously prefer being made to watch this stuff, so weâre adding more. After all, adding commercials before the half-hour of trailers we show in the movie theaters sure hasnât kept people from shelling out $10 at the movies, right?â
âTheyâll buy them,â agreed Lansing. âWeâre going to say the new Blu-Ray shit has twice the ignots or something, make something up. âHigh Definition,â whatever that means. âCrystal-clear picture and bone-rattling sound,â that sounds good, right? Weâll say they make the old DVDs we were hyping last week look like burnt turd, and those geeks will eat it up.â the commune news wants our entertainment, and we want it now, which is why weâll be filming all our own movies from now on. Ivana Folger-Balzac has already inked a deal to star in several commune Pictures productions as an unstoppable killing machine called Ivana Folger-Balzac.
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Saudi Arabian royal impersonator pardons self
NASCAR accepts hard liquor revenue; drivers accept hard liquor
New airline autopilot actually flies plane, sexually harasses stewardess
Washington: Dollar down, unemployment up, economy fantastic
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Mohammed Confesses to 9/11 Attacks, Falling Down A Lot During Interrogations Castro Announces 2008 Candidacy; Clinton, Obama Drop Out of Race Conditions at Walter Reed Upgraded to Nightmarishly Clive Barker-esque Unveiling of First Black Disney Character Raises Some Concerns |
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 December 9, 2002
Pulling a Franklin in the GarageIf you were paying any attention last column, and not just skimming for mentions of supermodel sex, you'll remember I started a story about building a new Bricksmobile and running down to Sears to get a floodlight for the garage, and how those cheap fuckers tried to con me into paying fifteen large for some kind of gold-plated adapter. Long story short, I remembered I already had an adapter at home, so I called their bluff and let them contemplate my bare ass on the way out the door.
I went home, dug up the adapter and with a little elbow grease I managed to get it to plug into the floodlight. Turned the whole shebang on and no light, but a weird humming noise and the place started to smell like a hair salon. I figured the adapter might have gone bad some time while I was using it to prop up the washing machine, so I unhooked it from the light and considered ways to test to see if the adapter was still good.
When I was a kid, Mom Bricks showed me a trick about how to tell if a battery was still good or not. This was back before they started putting those worthless little pretend power gauge stickers on batteries as part of a partnership with America's Funniest Home Videos, and even before they built that flimsy battery tester into the package.
Nope, back then when you found a AA rolling around back behind the refrigerator, you had to call up NASA and read tea leaves or some shit to find out if it was still any good. Sure, you...
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If you were paying any attention last column, and not just skimming for mentions of supermodel sex, you'll remember I started a story about building a new Bricksmobile and running down to Sears to get a floodlight for the garage, and how those cheap fuckers tried to con me into paying fifteen large for some kind of gold-plated adapter. Long story short, I remembered I already had an adapter at home, so I called their bluff and let them contemplate my bare ass on the way out the door.
I went home, dug up the adapter and with a little elbow grease I managed to get it to plug into the floodlight. Turned the whole shebang on and no light, but a weird humming noise and the place started to smell like a hair salon. I figured the adapter might have gone bad some time while I was using it to prop up the washing machine, so I unhooked it from the light and considered ways to test to see if the adapter was still good.
When I was a kid, Mom Bricks showed me a trick about how to tell if a battery was still good or not. This was back before they started putting those worthless little pretend power gauge stickers on batteries as part of a partnership with America's Funniest Home Videos, and even before they built that flimsy battery tester into the package.
Nope, back then when you found a AA rolling around back behind the refrigerator, you had to call up NASA and read tea leaves or some shit to find out if it was still any good. Sure, you could wipe off the corroded cat hair, pop it in your Walkman and just hope, but then when the tape started freaking out and playing at one quarter speed half-way through No Sleep Till Brooklyn you had no idea whether it was that battery or one of the seven others that was puttin' on the shits.
So, unless you wanted to get a summer job or something so you could replace all the batteries, you had to find some way to figure out which of the coppertops was riding bitch. Shaking them seemed like a good idea, but they didn't make any obvious half-empty rattling noises, plus since they were so small it was hard to be sure unless you shook your head the same way while you held the battery to your ear, and that just got confusing.
Likewise, tapping on them was no good, and tests to see if the empty ones rolled slower proved inconclusive. None of them floated, and if you cut one in half with bolt cutters it made a huge mess and you couldn't use it then anyway, even if it turned out to have plenty of juice left. That's when Mom Bricks stepped in and showed me that if you touch the end of the battery to your tongue, you get a little shock if it's still good. I later learned this works for other body parts too, though that's a story for another column.
Fast-forward to Saturday night, and what works for a battery should work for an adapter, right? Well, I touched the end of the adapter cord to my tongue and there's no nice way to say how fast the Omar Bricks weekend went to pot after that. I don't really want to talk about it.
Let's just suffice it to say that's the first time I've ever shit out anything that was on fire.
Bricks Out. º Last Column: Let There Be Lightº more columns
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|  February 17, 2003
America's Momma So Fat She Sweat ButterThat's right, I said it: America's fat. You won't see Red Bagel challenge the readership like that, will you?
It's high time America took responsibility for its big fat weight. Doctors will tell you maybe you're eating too much and not exercising. Genetecists will tell you it's because of a fat gene, but what they mean is "fat jeans"âyour ass has to squeeze in them. Ha. That's one for Ramrod.
What is the secret behind our obesity? Is it that we've become complacent watching TV and living high off our conveniences? Like the ancient Roman privileged classes, are we feeding off the sweat of underclasses and foreign labor? Never getting out to plant and reap our own crops, to pull our own chariots, to have to put on tight-fitting slave tunics instead of circus tent-style togas? Well, of course that's not it, I wouldn't have phrased it as a question if it was. No, it's something more insidious.
The Illuminati! That's right, you humps, I'm into the big boy conspiracy stuff now.
There is no fat gene, and you are eating too much, but that food is packed with surplus calories. And those non-fat cardboard rice cakes you eat, only to gain more weight? Pure re-constituted lard, dipshit. Don't think they can't get to you, too. They get to everyone.
Americans are being fattened up, like candy-seeking German kids wandering a forest. Except no witch is going to eat us, with some rare exceptions. We're not being made to...
º Last Column: The Internet Has Fleas, Fleas, Fleas
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That's right, I said it: America's fat. You won't see Red Bagel challenge the readership like that, will you?
It's high time America took responsibility for its big fat weight. Doctors will tell you maybe you're eating too much and not exercising. Genetecists will tell you it's because of a fat gene, but what they mean is "fat jeans"âyour ass has to squeeze in them. Ha. That's one for Ramrod.
What is the secret behind our obesity? Is it that we've become complacent watching TV and living high off our conveniences? Like the ancient Roman privileged classes, are we feeding off the sweat of underclasses and foreign labor? Never getting out to plant and reap our own crops, to pull our own chariots, to have to put on tight-fitting slave tunics instead of circus tent-style togas? Well, of course that's not it, I wouldn't have phrased it as a question if it was. No, it's something more insidious.
The Illuminati! That's right, you humps, I'm into the big boy conspiracy stuff now.
There is no fat gene, and you are eating too much, but that food is packed with surplus calories. And those non-fat cardboard rice cakes you eat, only to gain more weight? Pure re-constituted lard, dipshit. Don't think they can't get to you, too. They get to everyone.
Americans are being fattened up, like candy-seeking German kids wandering a forest. Except no witch is going to eat us, with some rare exceptions. We're not being made to be meals, although good luck with that rather on-the-nose conspiracy theory, Johnny Smallpicture. If you're wondering what other purpose it serves to fatten up America, I've got two words for you: Militia.
That's right, minute men. That's the two words I implied, hopefully you got that. America's is the only constitution anywhere that guarantees the right to form a militiaâother countries may think their constitution does, but of course nobody ever actually reads the constitution but a small group of politics and history nerds and an even smaller group of revolution-era handwriting fetishists. Look again, Pierreâno militia for you.
If you were the Illuminati, poised to take over the world and yet stuck with this "militia clause" in the handgun-filled United States, what would you do? Well, scratch that, you'd probably spend all your money on lottery tickets and marry your cousin. But the Illuminati has a serious group of strategists, and if you can't make them lie down and roll over like the French, you make them too fat to fight. Here, have some more Twinkies. Sure, they're low-fat. Unless you count the additives we injected at the factory! No, they're just for coloring! Ha ha ha!
I wasn't really laughing at you that time, just pretending to be the Illuminati. But that's what's happening, America. The Freemasons are sitting behind their brick-built desks and cracking up as your scale spins further and further to the right. Pretty soon all those precious handguns won't mean anythingâyou won't even be able to get your fat fingers through the little trigger circle thing, whatever it's called.
Even our right-wing reactionaries are getting too fat to do anything. Rush Limbaugh used to weigh a trim 240, now he's ballooned up like a⌠balloon. And you don't want to see Ted Nugent lately.
As for me, I'm in prime physical condition. This is all muscle. Well, yeah, some of it's not, but I'm working that off as soon as the weather warms up. I urge you all to get into shape, and arm yourself heavily. See you at the gym/gun show. º Last Column: The Internet Has Fleas, Fleas, Fleasº more columns
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Quote of the Day“Yawn and the world yawns with you. Fart and you fart alone.”
-Dr. FilbertFortune 500 CookieStop taking it so personally when everyone tells you how ugly you are. At least you're getting noticed. That breakfast cereal you made out of Tic Tacs sure has helped your breath, but next week our crystal ball shows a diagnosis for cancer of the everything. They say dogs are a good judge of character, and even dogs don't like your screenplay. This week's lucky Tims: Tiny Tim, Spazzy Tim, Him Tim, Tim and Tim Again, Phantom Tim, Tim Saved in a Bottle.
Try again later.Worst-Selling Meat Alternatives| 1. | M-Eat Brand Fungal Rot Cakes | | 2. | FEET!ÂŽ | | 3. | Uncle Macho's Vegan Roadkill | | 4. | Henson's Best Muppet Meat Steaks | | 5. | Wiccan Nuggets | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 3/4/2002 Holy washed-up franchise, Batman! It's Oscar season and no lisping game bird is going to convince Roland McShyster otherwise. Pay no heed to the lies about Christmastime, the most magical time of the year is truly upon us. So let's get coked up to the gills and revel in the joy that is the month before the Oscars!
Here's your dossier on the bewildering list of nominees:
Best Picture
A Beautiful Mime -read EP review-
This film touched me in much the same way as last year's Requiem for a Dreamcast. Both were films made me stand up and shout back at the void: "Now THOSE are some...
Holy washed-up franchise, Batman! It's Oscar season and no lisping game bird is going to convince Roland McShyster otherwise. Pay no heed to the lies about Christmastime, the most magical time of the year is truly upon us. So let's get coked up to the gills and revel in the joy that is the month before the Oscars! Here's your dossier on the bewildering list of nominees: Best PictureA Beautiful Mime -read EP review-This film touched me in much the same way as last year's Requiem for a Dreamcast. Both were films made me stand up and shout back at the void: "Now THOSE are some tits!" Powerful filmmaking that has given me a new taste for women of few words⌠who let the cleavage do the talking. I advise you to let it change your world some time soon.
Goosefart Park
Those loveable Animal House morons are back, and this time they're stuck at a quaint Country Inn in the small English town of Goosefart Park. A surprise pick for a Best Picture nomination, but you'll be hard-pressed to find a film this year with more beaver jokes. There's a lot of raunchy humour for the whole family, but this isn't a one-sided farce. The film also brings home the important life lesson that England is stupid.
In the Bedroom
It's a bold statement, but this is probably the best film ever based on a Cream song. To be honest, I didn't understand the movie any better than I understood the tune, (psychedelic interior decorating tips? And who buys black curtains these days?) but regardless, this flick is head and heels above Kevin Costner's dismal Aqualung.
The Lords of the Ring: The Fellowship in the Ring -read EP review-
This is the year gay boxing movies stepped into the mainstream, and there is no finer example than The Lords of the Ring. If a picture is worth a thousand words, and this isn't the best picture of the year, then that means there are a thousand finer words out there somewhere, and personally I find that disbelievable. This is one of those rare movies that grabs you by your manhood and sucks you off. Or in. And as the wizened old boxing trainer Gaydar says in the film: "Sometimes you choose gay boxing. And sometimes gay boxing chooses you." I couldn't have put it better, even with 989 more words and a Polaroid.
Mule in Rouge -read EP review-
Another surprise nomination for Best Picture, as the Academy seems to have a soft spot for screwball comedies this year. This time it's a loveable Talking Mule picture that gets the surprise nod and a wink. And I know what you're thinking, that they always nominate the Talking Mule pictures but they never win the big awards. It's like an unwritten rule. But this year things could be different since there's a lot of buzz under this donkey's tail and I hear the Church of Scientology is throwing it's Hollywood weight around to secure the golden flasher for this picture.
Best Director
Don Henley, A Beautiful Mime -read EP review-
Leave it to a former Eagle to take this tale of form-fitting mime costumes all the way to the limit. Sure, he could have taken it easy, but that's not Henley's style. Being the new kid in town, director-wise, he had a lot to prove, and I for one am hoping there's no heartache for him on Oscar night. Hopefully his film will leave Academy voters with a peaceful, easy feeling, and provide them with a place to hide their lion eyes.
Ripley Scott, Black Hawk Down -read EP review-
Every film this guy does without having a space lizard or whatever spring out of his chest is a triumph in my book. I'd really be pulling for him to take home the gold this year on that basis alone if it weren't for the fact that his movie had way too much pan flute music in it for my tastes. I mean, I guess it's a depressed-bird kind of instrument, but in my opinion you can take that too far.
Robert Palmer, Goosefart Park
Three years ago it was all about foreign dictators directing films, and last year it was about rock-band movies. This year the natural progression continues and it's pop stars turning into directors, and nobody was more surprised than me to discover that this pedophile-looking limey can direct a frat comedy like nobody's business. Both this film and A Beautiful Mime make me realize how far ahead of his time Terrence Trent D'Arby really was when he directed The Thin Red Line a few years ago, really the grandfather of pop star directors. Sure, the inclusion of Power Station's Some Like it Hot in Palmer's film was a little self-serving, but I have to admit it synched up pretty well with the scene where the morons set the Inn on fire.
Peter, Paul and Mary Jackson, The Lords of the Ring: The Fellowship in the Ring -read EP review-
What's more amazing than pop stars making the successful transition to directing feature films? How about entire bands making the leap? Scoff no more my friends, because it happened while you weren't paying attention. If these 60's folkamuffins can direct the best gay boxing film ever, I can't wait to see Metallica's directorial debut this summer.
David Lynch, Mulholland Drive -read EP review-
Sure, he's crazier than a shithouse weasel, but there's no denying that some people out there enjoy the scrambled brainbatter he yanks out of his rectum every few years. Personally, I liked his films more before he decreed that all film scores should be played by throwing live fish at a piano, but you've got to admire his creative vision.
Best Actor
Russell Crowe, A Beautiful Mime -read EP review-
Really rubbing the charm thin after his role in Almost Famous, Crowe serves as a cleavage-blocking impediment to an otherwise arresting film. Back to the Louvre with you, Frenchie.
Sean Penn, I Am Sam -read EP review-
Leave it to a balls-out amazing actor like Penn to garner an Oscar nomination for the smallest of roles. Some may argue that his cameo as the fox in the box was too scant a role to deserve the Oscar nod, but I ask you this: did you ever doubt for a second that that there was really a fox in that box where Knox would not eat the green eggs and ham, would not eat them Sam I Am? I rest my case.
Geoffrey Rush, Lantana
Who?
Mr. Smith, ALI -read EP review-
Talk about taking a boring film and driving it right into the dull, lifeless ground! This is it. The American Law Institute could have salvaged some shred of an audience's attention by casting a big-name star in this plodding logjam of a film, but instead they chose to feature this faceless corporate lawyer in an unbelievably gray suit. I thought for a second this movie might turn into a Pink Floyd video but in the end it turned out that irony was not on the witness list.
Denzel Washington, Training Day -read EP review-
After a long, painful journey, Denzel finally finds his niche in this talking toddler pic. He's never had a finer moment than when he's chasing little Mikey around the apartment while he's got a shitty pair of pull-ups around his ankles (but don't ask me why Denzel was wearing pull-ups in the first place! Zing!). It just goes to show that talent can blossom late, and here Denzel is at his best since To Wong FuâŚ
Best Animated Film
In a surprising move by the Academy, the Best Actress category has been replaced this year by a new award for Best Animated Film. I'm sure you can imagine the endless griping that has ensued, but for what? I mean, who doesn't like cartoons?
Jimmy Nimrod: Boy Genius -read EP review-
Hands-down the funniest film of the year, and one of the main reasons you'll be hearing Roland McShyster's tortured screams echoing up from hell once we all hit the afterlife. I stand behind my actions, however, and if seeing an exploitive comedy about a retarded super-spy twelve times in the theater is a damnable offense, then damn the torpedoes and steer this cruise ship towards the Hades water park, my friends.
Mobsters, INC. -read EP review-
A computer-animated classic set in the mobster's paradise of New Jersey. A funny, fascinating, and fuggetaboutit musical for those of us who like our fellas good and our fathers godly. Or something, I don't know. Look for Joe Piscapo in his trademark insane mobster role.
Beatty and the Beast
I had the weird deja-vu feeling that I'd seen this movie before, but with all of the great new stuff they're cranking out, it's not like Disney would just rehash one of their old movies to make a few extra bucks. Anyway, it's great to see Ned Beatty working again, though to be honest sometimes I got confused about who was the Beast.
And that's a wrap! Now's it's time to bask in the afterglow while we await the ceremony itself. When will it be? Nobody knows! But that's half the fun of it. And from me to you, America, I hope it's some kind of wonderful. See you in a month!
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