The Most Easily-Thwarted Pointlessly Elaborate Trap to Ever Appear in a TV Show (Text)

I have a confession to make: I have never watched Lost.



Well, ok, one of my ex-girlfriends forced me to watch the first 20 minutes of the pilot episode with her one morning - suffice to say, we weren’t together long... she dumped me (See what I did there? That’s classic comedy, that is! But sadly true…) – and a friend of mine made me watch one scene after making an observation that all but one of the girls I’d dated had freckles (2 now), and he fancied the girl on the show with freckles and presumably thought I would be the most likely person he knew that would agree she was hot, thus validating his attraction for her while at the same time basking in the glory of being the one to introduce me to a girl I would think was hot for years to come, or something? (I really don’t understand people, I’m afraid...)


In his defence...

But whatever – my point is I’ve never PROPERLY watched Lost before, but Flashforward is EXACTLY what people always make Lost out to be (note to self: possibly because it’s made by the same people, Genius?) – poorly written, completely retarded, but oh so addictive!


It even stars that MILF guy from American Pie!

I’ve been watching the show since it first aired in September, and despite often thinking “Wow, that was dumb” or “man, that was done poorly”, I can’t help but look forward to the next episode – for the whole 3 months the show was on hiatus, I couldn’t wait to hear when it would be back on, and since it came back a few weeks ago, I’ve been watching every episode religiously on Demand 5.


This image of Dean Carlson came up when I typed in "Demand 5" on Google images. Am I the only one who thinks he looks like a stoned version of my Criminology Professor, Dan Silverstone?


Incidentally, this image was taken from a BBC article on gun crime in Britain - so this guy definitely knows more about guns than the creators of Flashforward - more on that in a sec...



This week, however, there was a scene so plain ridiculous that even I had to wonder what the writers were snorting (Prozac cut with drain cleaner, my banoffee cheesecake informs me. Hmm… I must not be quite over that whole 4/20 debacle just yet…). The set up was simple:



John Cho was being held in a pressure sensitive chair with a gun pointing at him. If he tried to stand up, or shifted his weight by too much, the gun would fire.


"Pressure sensitive chairs! My one weakness! How did you know?"
"Duh. You're KOREAN. Hello????"

At the same time, there was a timer on the device holding the gun, which would cause the gun to fire when the time ran out. Whilst this sort of thing may sound pointlessly elaborate to those of you not familiar with either Flashforward or the Saw series, I actually thought it was pretty cool at first, and was interested in seeing how he would get out of the trap.


I've highlighted the most important part of the design. You're welcome.

This is, until Joseph Fiennes arrived, with 2 minutes left to disarm the weapon. Now, just a quick test – look at the following picture, and tell me how you would go about stopping the gun from firing:



If you said “put the safety on” then congratulations – you’re too smart to work for American TV. That’s right – despite the ridiculously over-the-top, high-tech nature of the trap, the gun’s safety is completely free to be put on should an individual so desire:



Joseph Fiennes’ character is not only an FBI agent in the show, but it’s HIS GUN which was stolen earlier in the series – How does he not know how to put on the damn safety?


Look at him, the confused Bastard. Ralph would never have had this problem...

But let’s assume that the safety was glued in place, or the gun had been taken apart, had the safety removed, and was then reassembled before being put into the device. Then you would be forced to remember a clue given to you by the guy who set the trap from earlier on in the show, remove the wires in the correct order, following what was said in the clue, and then point the barrel of the gun upwards above Harold’s head because removing the wires in the correct order didn’t stop the timer, just allowed you to move the gun without it going off, right? Want to take another look at that picture?



That’s right – the Goddamn hammer is exposed on the back of the gun! You know what would stop this thing from going off? A thumb. That’s it – if Fiennes had put his thumb on the hammer, the trap would have been thwarted with ease.



Now, it’s fair enough that the writers may not know about guns (or are only familiar with some guns – Glocks, for example, have internal hammers, unlike the Sig Sauer used in the show, and are also used by law enforcement), but you’d think they would at least have someone on set who could point these things out. Given the guys involved are meant to be highly trained FBI agents, this is about on a par with the guy from the razor wire room in ‘Saw’ being left fully clothed – with a leather jacket… and wire-cutters.


Saw would probably have been a PG if every character had a pair of these...

What is it with TV writers not bothering to make TV even vaguely intelligent these days? Flashforward, like so many shows of the modern age, is ridiculously predictable, and often very poorly thought out. Lie to Me, as well, is so incredibly predictable that I have never once been surprised when the killer/criminal is revealed, and can usually guess who it is before the first advert break (unlike back in the good old days of “Inspector Morse”, where you were amazed if you managed to get it right). Hell, even House (one of my favourite shows at the moment) uses the exact same formula for every episode. The only show I’ve watched recently that actually struck me as being well thought-out, original, and intelligent was The Wire, but since it ended nothing has managed to fill its shoes. On another note: Why do all 4 shows I just listed have British leads? Do America really not have any decent actors left? The fact that if you type "American Actor" into Google images, Zac Efron appears before Johnny Depp does probably answers this question (don't scroll down to the picture of Justin Long if you have safe search off. Unless you're into that kind of thing. Hell, beats looking at Taylor Lautner's ugly mug, that's for sure...)

Nevertheless, I shall be tuning in to Flashforward again next week, because despite how unintelligent the show is, it is still surprisingly engaging and enjoyable – especially the scenes with Dominic Monaghan, who plays a delightfully psychotic scientist, in a role that couldn’t be further from his turn in “Lord of the Rings”. So much so that it actually took me until about episode 10 to realize it was him (apparently he was in Lost, too). John Cho’s always worth watching, too (saw the Harold and Kumar films at the weekend – Good Times…).

And that’s the problem: Producers realise they don’t need to hire writers to make an intelligent show, because people will watch it regardless. As Wayne Gale would say “do you think that those nitwits in Zombieland actually remember anything? It’s filler, it’s fodder – it’s junk food for the brain!” how true…


Man, I love junk food…




Voice

How to Win an Election: Campaign Posters the Parties SHOULD be Running... (Text & Pictures)

Whilst some people may resot to writing intelligent, well thought-out and somewhat inspiring Blog Posts in the run up to the May 6th general election, I can assure you that we at Voice From the Pillow (just me, then) are above such statements - because we all know that elections are won on one thing, and one thing only: Posters.

In light of this fact, I have decided to help out the major parties running in the election, by creating a series of campaign posters they can use, which should help them all win over public opinion in the demographic they most need: The youth vote.




CONSERVATIVES

The conservatives are running a fairly solid campaign to win votes from those who despise Chav culture - by promising to cut benefits to those who refuse to work, and increasing the benefits paid to married families with children. Whilst this is winning them support from the upper classes, and more traditional families, however, it still has not attracted votes from every group the Tory spin-doctors had anticipated - with Chav culture's greatest enemies still holding out on the vote. I am, of course, referring to Emos.



In light of this, I recommend Cameron goes after the Emo vote, as this demographc is still wide open, with no politicians yet speaking directly to them. Whilst he would have to make a few policy changes - for example, reducing taxes on make-up and hair-dye, and maybe changing the national anthem to "Desolation Row" (MCR version to get the Psuedo-Goth vote as well), I believe that he can quite easily win the Emos over with a simple modification to the campaign poster the Tories already have in use:



can easily be changed to this:




With little hastle, and secure the emo vote for the Tories.




LABOUR

Labour recently made one of the worst mistakes in Election Campaign history when they released this poster of David Cameron as Gene Hunt from the TV series "Ashes to Ashes" (See the Quattro? He didn't have that in "Life on Mars" - stupid journalists...):



The poster was meant to be a reference to he gross injustices of the Thatcher period, of which DCI Gene Hunt, the rough and ready copper, is the perfect symbol. The problem is, in the shows "Life on Mars" and "Ashes to Ashes", Gene Hunt was often see as being the kind of copper we wish we had these days - a man who doesn't care about red tape or bureaucracy, and just gets the job done. On top of this, suggesting Cameron is like Gene Hunt also gives the man, an Eton graduate and "Posh Boy", the working class credit he needs - making this a double whammy against Labour.

Not to worry, though! I can sort this one out in a second. It is clear Labour want to portray the Tories as being a symbol of the past, and suggest that whilst the Tories are stuck in the 1980s, it is Labour who are really bringing the country forward. They therefore need to use an image that is not only synonymous with the period, but does not have the positive connotations of the Gene Hunt picture, either. They also need an image that youngsters who are voting for the first time will recognise - someone famous. But the person they use must be chosen carefully. It has to be an image of a rich, evil prick, who cares more about money than anything else, and would happily shoot a working class immigrant just for marrying a woman of higher social standing. Hmm... are you thinking what we're thinking? (Get it?)




May I also recommend a caption reading "get off my croquet lawn, peasants!"?


"Push it to the Limit" would also make a good election campaign song...




LIBERAL DEMOCRATS

Having recently stormed ahead in the polls, following last week's televised leaders debate on ITV (I didn't watch it), The Liberal Democrats look set to break the two-party hegemony (thanks, Mike!) that has been a plague to British politics for almost a century now.

But the Lib Dems have one key problem - No one knows who the hell Nick Clegg is. He's a nobody. When I went on google images and searched for "Liberal Democrats Campaign Poster", do you know what I got?


That's right - 9 Pictures of Charles Kennedy, and not one of Nick Clegg:



As Obama will tell you, personalities are what win elections, not policies. And if no-one knows who you are, you don't stand a chance. Unfortunately, we are now at a point that no matter how many posters of nick Clegg are plastered around the country, he is not well recognised enough to win the election. The only solution? CELEBRITY ENDORSEMENT.


The problem here is that the celebrity can't be some giant mega-star who likes to nose his way into politics, oherwise people may get annoyed at the perceived attempt to tell them what to do, and will feel they are being treated like idiots - Oh, George Clooney thinks I should do this so I will? Pfff... not likely!



Try telling that to your Nespresso machine, genius.

No, what we need is more of an indie star that young people like, but doesn't talk much about his private life, and isn't overly involved in politics, although is Liberal-leaning. Preferably someone ethnic - or better still, of mixed heritage...


I'm thinking Jemaine Clement?



That's got my vote, all right...



But I'm getting ahead of myself. After all, the three major parties aren't the ones that really need help. No, it's the smaller parties who will need the most work on their campaigns to guarantee them seats. I shall therefore offer advice to a few of the other parties, as well:


British National Party

Liberals are accusing theBNP of being racist and homophobic. Roll with it! If you're the only through-and-through racist party running, you're bound to clean up on the neo-Nazi votes!

For the poster, I recommend a celebrity endorsement again, just as with the Lib Dems. Now, of course, there are many seemingly racist celebrities out there to choose from, but only one out-and-out racist who people recognise and respect:



Now, I know what you're thinking - "But Mel Gibson's Australian - how can he possibly be the poster boy for the British National Party?". But you're forgetting; not only is Gibson a racist, but he's also decended from British exhiles who were almost certainly kicked out of the country when they complained about Indians being allowed to fight in the British Army! And not only that, but since the Lib Dems will almost certainly adopt the poster suggested above, featuring Kiwi on it, Gibson is the perfect counter-argument to their campaign, because not only does he hate dark people, but (being an Aussie) he also hates people from New Zealand - which covers all of Clement's heritage! He's perfect!



SOCIALIST WORKERS PARTY

Again, at this level in politics, and with a leader no-one recognises, the SWP will have to go with the celebrity endorsement - but the question remains: "Who?"

Originally, I was feeling Springsteen. The Boss was born down in a dead man's town, and is a true symbol of what it means to be "working class", an image the SWP really need to get across in order to obtain both the working class vote, and the middle-class college-aged douchebag vote (right here!). However, ever since Reagan bastardised the song "Born in the USA" for use in his 1987 election campaign, Springsteen is off the table, due to the right-wing connotations of using the same song as Reagan (no matter how retarded Reagan's use of the song was - Bloody Americans, not paying any attention to the lyrics). I therefore suggest the SWP go with the following:



If you've ever actually listened to the lyrics of "Living on a Prayer", then you'll now the story told is one of te most working-class tales ever put to music. But at the same time, the hope present in the song lets us know that it doesn't really matter if we make it or not, we've got each other, and that's a lot. For love, we'll give it a shot. I think that's a really important message, don't you? And an election winner if I ever saw one!



GREEN PARTY





Need I say more?



Although, on reflection, I think having a half naked woman centre stage rather than a guy may go down slightly better, on the assumption that TV and the internet tell me all women are bi, but only 1 in 10 men are gay or bi...



Voice

How I spent my 4/20, by Voice - aged 21. (Text)

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE OUT OF WEED!?!” I screamed, spitting over Roman’s jacket in the process “YOU TOLD ME YOU HAD THIRTY GRAMS YESTERDAY!”

“That’s true” he responded, nonchalantly, as though he hadn’t just smoked all my 4/20 celebratory dope “but I had a bong last night and used it all up”.


My Good friend Roman - the Cunt.

“You smoked an ounce and a quarter in one bong?” I asked, figuring he must just be messing with me.

“actually, there are 1.7 grams in an ounce, not 1.5, so technically I only smoked 1.1 ounces...”



Unfortunaltely, Roman is not this kind of Maths Genius.


“YOU SPANISH CUNT!” I bellowed, casually smashing Benny’s keyboard in the process, forgetting we weren’t in Roman’s room any more “I NEEDED THAT WEED! HOW THE FUCK ARE WE GONNA CELEBRATE 4/20 NOW?”

“Beats me.” He responded “But since it was past midnight when I had the bong yesterday, technically I’ve already had my 4/20 blaze...”

“Great” I replied, so mad I could feel the erection pressing against my jeans “I guess I’ll just have to go buy some elsewhere!”



Though admittedly, anger isn't the only cause of erections...

I stormed out, kicking Benny’s poodle on the way out. It hardly made a sound – I figured Roman must have breathed some of his second-hand weed smoke up its nose again. I left the house via the window, just so I wouldn’t have to walk past Paul’s room. He had just started seeing Tulisa from N-DUBZ without telling me, and ever since that article I posted a couple of days ago, she wasn’t too happy with me. So, I pulled on the parachute I had bought specifically for this purpose from Camouflage, the local Army Surplus store, and bailed out of the second-storey window.


Think this, but from the 2nd floor, and in heterosexual clothes...

I hit the ground with an almighty crash, and heard bones shattering.

“Sorry” I said, getting off the guy I had landed on “My parachute didn’t deploy.”

He glared at me with a disdaining look – or was it a look of immense pain? Whatever, I thought. It’s Portsmouth – if you can’t handle having a 220lb white guy jump on your head from 2 storeys up you shouldn’t even bother getting out of bed in the morning.


220lb white guy - yes, I have put on 10 pounds since October, thank you for noticing...

I walked around for about an hour, looking for a weed dealer. Nothing. You would have thought at least one of the fourteen prostitutes I spoke to in Somers town would be holding weed, but apparently not. Fucking Jacqui Smith, putting Cannabis up to a Class B. What a cunt.


Even Gordon Brown's giving her Evils, the whore.

Eventually, I decided to head down to the head-shop on Albert Road, figuring that would be my best bet for finding weed at this hour. I walked through the door, and marched straight up to the counter.

“I want to buy some weed. Here’s 20 quid” I said, laying a grotty note on the counter. The Cop standing next to me didn’t look happy.

“Excuse me?” He said. I looked him up and down, weighing him up.

“Look, buddy, I don’t know how they do things where you’re from, but in my town only suckers wait in queues. Real men walk to the front!”

“I meant what are you doing trying to buy weed?” He replied, clearly covering up for the fact he’s one of those queuing pussies “can’t you tell I’m a cop, or something?”

“Well, duh.” I responded “Of course you’re a cop, but you’re in a head-shop, so you’re obviously not gonna arrest me for wanting to blaze up!”

“I’m investigating this store!” he responded, getting tetchy. “We’ve had reports that this establishment has been selling Meow-Meow illegally.”


Meow-Meow, apparently. Fucking Google...

“Meow-Meow?” I asked, intrigued. “Isn’t that the drug that makes you want to rub your scent all over things you want to claim ownership to?”

“I... don’t think so...” he responded, clearly having never used the drug before. “Its chemical name is mephadrone”.

“Oh yeah, I saw that in House.” I stated, knowledgably.


It's not gay for a guy to fancy Hugh Laurie... Trust me.

“I think that was methadone” he replied, lazily. I looked at him suspiciously.

“What did you say before?” I enquired.

“Mephedrone” he responded. It comes from Khat.

“It comes from cats?”


Listen to him, he has a masters in psychology and sociology.


“No, Khat. It’s a powerful herb that grows in Somalia – it’s mainly a stimulant, but has some hallucinogenic properties to boot”

“sounds good” I responded “I’ll take a gram.”

“You can’t” he replied, sounding agitated “It’s a class C drug”. He was clearly just as angry about this as I was.

“Government Fuckers!” I growled, angrily, “always trying to fuck over the little guy”


Fucking over the little guy.

“I don’t... I’m sorry, what?” he asked, and I remembered that he was one of them.

“Oh, sorry” I said “I forgot you work for the government. That must be hard, having to work for the people trying to close your store.”

“I don’t own this place...” he said, giving me a funny look. “Didn’t you hear what I was saying before?”

“About the Government being cunts? Sure, I heard that.”

“No, you said that!”

“Why would I have said it? You’re the one who works for them. You don’t complain about other people’s bosses, do you? It wouldn’t make sense!”

“It would make more sense than this conversation” he muttered.

Just then, an old guy in a brown suit walked out the stockroom door.


This guy, in fact.

The guy I was talking to turned to face him.

“Find anything?” he asked.

“Not yet, no.” The guy in the suit replied “But we’ve got to roll on out of here – division just got a call about a serious assault in Montogomery. Apparently some maniac jumped out a window on some poor sucker’s head – damn near killed him. All of CID’s been called over.”

“Right. Let’s roll!” My new friend responded, and they both walked out the door. A few seconds later, a white guy with dreadlocks who wasn’t Roman walked out the store-room, and came over to the counter.

“You looking for anything in particular?” He asked.

“As a matter of fact I am” I responded “I’m after some Purr-Purr”.

“I’m sorry?”

“You know, Purr-Purr, it comes from pussy.”

“I’m not sure you’re in the right place for that – you might wanna try Anne Summers...”


Anne Summers - I can't imagine a world without her...

“Methadone, Damn it!” I shouted, annoyed by this ignorant square. Why do non-stoners try and run head-shops? It just ruins it for those of us who do enjoy a good blaze.

“Oh right! You want methadrone?” He asked.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“We don’t have that, either. You want some SCD instead?”

“STD?” I asked. “What’s that?”

“Sub Coca Dragon” he replied, sounding bored “it’s like cocaine, but legal. £20 a gram”


A typical Sub-Coca Dragon... probably.

“Ok, I’ll take it!” I said “But you’d better have Purr-Purr the next time I come in here, or so help me God, you’ll be eating teeth for a month!”

“I’m not you’ve got that metaphor quite right...” he said as he disappeared into the back room. I stood there at the counter, trying to ignore the Easter Island head that was staring at me from across the store. He returned about 2 minutes later, whilst I was trying to work out my best route of escape in case the head came after me. I figured my best bet would be to jump out the window and climb up the guttering, because Easter Island heads can’t climb, but I wasn’t sure I could outrun it to the window, so was looking for a weapon on the counter that I could use. I settled on the cash register, because Easter Island is Polynesian, and I’ve heard they’re all money hungry thieves, like gypsies. Or is that Australians? Whatever, I wasn’t fussed, just so long as it stopped the head.


This is all that comes up when you search for "stopping head" on Google.

“Ok, here you go” the head spoke. I jumped back in fright, then realised that loser from behind the counter had returned with my STD.

“About time” I said, grabbing it off him. “That Head over there just spoke to me.”
“What head?” He asked. The fool – he’d be eaten before the night was out.

“Forget it” I said “Have a good time being crushed slowly to death and devoured, pal...”

I walked out into the street, clutching my Sub-Coca Dragon, and headed towards Gunwharf.



*************************************************************************************


“I’m sorry, sir, but you can’t go up the Spinnaker tower just now.”

“WHY THE FUCK NOT?!?!?!” I screamed, enraged by the injustice of it all.

“Because we’re on a ferry to the Isle of Wight” he responded “It’s physically impossible.”

Fucking Navy squares, I thought, always trying to tell you what is and isn’t possible. The SCD had opened my mind, and I could see reality for what it truly was. Time isn’t linear – it’s ball-shaped. We can either move round the circumference, like a closed minded person, or we can cut across the diameter, or across a sector – I knew that if they just let me climb to the top of the mast, I could make it to the Spinnaker tower, and then on to Jupiter.

“That’s not a mast, sir” a voice said, and I realised that either I had been speaking out loud, or I was a schizophrenic.

“I’M NOT A SCHIZOPHRENIC!” I screamed, adamant that I wasn’t going to end up in a mental hospital just for trying to achieve what no man has done before – rollerskate from Jupiter to Neptune without an oxygen mask.


Imagine this, but in Space.

“Farraday didn’t make it!” I shouted “He only got half way before one of his rollerskates fell off! Not even Tesla made it on only one tank of oxygen – he had a tank of Argon as well!”

“Ok, sir – that’s good to know. Would you mind taking a seat for a minute whilst I call the doctor?”

“ROBOTNIK?” I screamed, terrified of what he would do to me if he got his hands on me, creating a four-handed monster. “You’ll never take me alive!” I bellowed, and with that I dived into the sea. Just before I hit the water, however, I realised what a foolish thing this had been to do, because there are Tigers on the Isle of Wight, and Tigers can swim.


See????


“I don’t want to become Tiger food!” I yelled, and swam as fast as I could in the opposite direction to the ferry.



*************************************************************************************


“Hey, wake up, we’re closing!” A voice said.

“Hey voice” I said, still half-asleep “You know, I have a blog called ‘Voice From the Pillow’. We’re both voices. But mine’s German...”

“Whatever, man – come on, outside”.

I felt hands grab me, and I lashed out, fighting them off.

“No! I won’t be zombie food! Ash! AAAAAAASSSSHHHH!!!!!!!!”

“Right! Outside, now!”

The hands grabbed me and threw me out in the street. I came round, and looked up to see I was outside the Casino in Southampton. I must have swam all the way up the river – thank God a Tiger didn’t pick up my scent as I swam. I walked across the street and into MacDonalds.

“Hiya” I said “I’ll have a Whopper meal, please.”

“I’m sorry, sir – we don’t serve Whoppers here.”

“WHAT?!?!?!” I shouted “Southampton doesn’t have Whopper meals?”

“Nowhere does, sir – you have to go to Burger King for a Whopper meal...”

“Ok” I said, calming down slightly “Just just me a 10 piece Colonel’s bargain bucket.”

“We don’t sell those, either” the cashier responded. I don’t remember what happened next, but when I woke up, I was on the floor by the fryer covered in chicken, with an empty fire extinguisher next to me.

“Is my chicken done yet?” I asked the dark figure looming over me.

“He’s drunk” the figure said. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

As he bent down into the light, I saw it was a queer in a fireman’s outfit.


Don't search for 'Queer fireman' on Google. Unless you're into that sort of thing...

“I don’t want to get bummed by the Village People!” I screamed, then realised what I had said, and quickly added “Not that I’m a homophobe, or anything.”

“That’s ok, son” said the fireman “I get that a lot”.


Hardly surprising, really...

I passed out again.



*************************************************************************************


“Are you sure that’s the guy?” I heard a high pitched, whiney voice asking.

“Yeah, that’s him” a familiar voice responded. I opened my eyes to see the cop I had met earlier.

“Hey Andy!” I said, smiling at him.

“It’s Steve.” He said. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“I had to swim away from a Tiger, and a fireman tried to bum me” I said, thinking that encapsulated the most important elements of the story, adding “I’m not a Schizophrenic.”


It's true, you know?

“Of course not” Andy replied. “Shall I take you home?”

“No thanks” I said “The fireman already took me home. I think I’ll have a shower...” I started to take off my trousers, but Andy stopped me.

“Fuck off, Andy!” I shouted “I need a shower, or the Tigers will smell my scent!”

“There Are no Tigers!” he answered, and I looked at him, horrified.

“They’re extinct?” I asked “How did it happen? Tell me!”

“For God’s sake...”

“We have to avenge the Tigers!” I shouted, standing up, and pulling off one of my shoes. "To the White house!"


This guy works for Obama now. SERIOUSLY.

Just as I went to run out, a hand grabbed my arm. It was the guy in the suit from the head shop. He looked at my shoe.

“Size 11 Timberlands, huh?” He asked.

“That’s right” I replied.

“Come with me” he said, and dragged me into the adjacent room, moving me further from the white house, and away from Tiger liberation. When we got in the room, I saw Roman and Benny sitting on a bench in handcuffs. They looked up.

“Is this the guy?” The detective asked.

“Yes it is” I replied “that’s the guy who smoked all my 4/20 weed!”

“Not you, moron” he replied. “Is this the guy who jumped out your window earlier?”
“Yes” said Benny, not looking at me. I hated him for that – you should look at a man you are condemning for not doing a cool enough trick when jumping.

“That’s settled, then” said the cop, putting handcuffs on me. “You’re under arrest for causing GBH and fleeing the scene of a crime. Do you want us to call a lawyer for you?”

“Yes, call Sebastian Stark, please.” I asked. He looked at me long and hard.

“The character James Woods plays in ‘Shark’?”

“Yeah, him. Thanks.”

The detective walked off. I sat next to Roman.

“Got any weed on you?” I asked. He looked at me.

“It’s 2 past midnight, man. 4/20’s over.”

“ah well” I replied “there’s always next year.”

“well, that or we get on a plane and get into the next time-zone before the hour’s up” Roman replied. I looked up at him.

“You know what, you could be on to something...” I said.

“GUARD!” I shouted. Andy came in.

“What is it?” he sighed.

“Can you take us to Iceland?” I asked.


On second thoughts...

“Not with this Volcano going off, I can’t” he replied “in fact, even if it wasn’t, I still couldn’t...” He walked out. I looked at Roman, shocked.

“Of course!” I said “The volcano is the answer! It all makes sense now! We make a sacrifice to the volcano, and the Gods will bring the Tigers back, and we might get some weed before the day is out!”

“ok” said Roman “but how do we get to the volcano?”

“easy” I replied, “space isn’t linear, right? We simply have to get to the roof and jump, and we’ll end up wherever we’re picturing as we hit the ground!”

“ok” said Roman, “But how do we get to the roof?”

“leave that to me” I said, and with that, I got up and charged through the door, knocking Andy off his feet in the process, and I ran up the stairs. I ran and ran as hard as I could, till my muscles burned and my veins pumped battery acid, and then I ran some more. I reached the roof, and ran to the edge, just as a group of cops burst through the doorway behind me, and surrounded me.

“Don’t jump!” one of them said “it’s not worth it!”

“I’m sorry” I said “but it’s not my choice – the Tigers need me!”
And with that, I leaped.


Like this, but in colour, and less Artsy...



*************************************************************************************


I woke up in Hospital to see light shining through the window.

“Does this mean I missed 4/20?” I asked.

“I’m afraid so" said Andy, who was standing over me, looking stern.

“What am I doing here?” I asked.

“You jumped off the prison roof and fell 9 floors” he responded. “You would have died, but luckily you landed on Dappy from N-DUBZ’s head. In light of this, the CPS asked me to come round and tell you that all charges against you are being dropped for services to the country.”

“that’s good news” I replied “but what about the Tigers?”

“They’re fine” Andy said “they always were.”

“So this was all just part of your plan, then? Make me think the Tigers were murdered so I would jump off that building just as Dappy was walking in the door and kill him?” I asked.

“That’s pretty convoluted” he replied “even The Dark Knight made more sense than that.”

“matter of opinion, Andy” I replied.

“It’s Steve” he said, and walked out. Just before he left, he turned back to face me. “Take care of yourself, huh?”

“Yeah, you too, Andy” I said. And with that, he was gone. I sat and thought to myself for a moment. Sure, I didn’t get to smoke any weed, but it was still the best 4/20 I had ever had. I went back to sleep, and that was the end of my adventure. The Tigers were fine, I was more stoned than I had ever been, and the world was safe from really shitty British rap music once again...


Voice

The Hurt Locker Review (plus Oscars review) - (Text)

The Hurt locker earned high acclaim from critics earlier this year, when it stormed the Oscars, winning a total of 6 Academy Awards, including those for “Best Director”, and “Best Film”. Katheryn Bigalow (Point Break) became the first female director to even win an Academy Award (though we all know Mary Harron should have won for American Psycho in 2000), completely Pwning (to use the parlance of our times) her ex-husband James Cameron, who had been tipped to win for his Epic Blockbuster “Avatar” (a movie I have yet to see). But did this low-budget war piece deserve the recognition it has been given, or did it simply win for political/douchey reasons? Given who’s writing this – I think you know what I’m about to say...

The plot of the Hurt locker is relatively simple: The movie follows a team of bomb disposal experts serving in Iraq for the last 38 days of their deployment, and switches between scenes of the soldiers on base, or trying to make friends with the local population, to tense scenes of bomb defusing. The acting is reasonable – with good performances turned in by most of the cast: Jeremy Renner (Star of 28 weeks later – also known as “the movie that was so bad I walked out of it: and I sat through the whole of Steven Seagal’s ‘Attack Force’!” if you’re a regular to the site) plays the lead - a douchebag bomb disposal expert who takes completely pointless risks, seems to be severely bi-polar, and acts more like a cartoon character than a believable person - fairly competently, given the script he had to work with. Certainly an improvement on his performance in 28 Weeks Later, at least (though, to be fair, the script there was even more lacking – and he probably deliberately acted badly because he knew how shit the film would be. The Suits upstairs want me to call this “doing a Robert Pattinson” – but I can’t bring myself to give the Sparkle Fairy franchise that kind of publicity, so instead shall say “He was doing a Gillian Anderson”, who became extremely despondent during the last 2 or so seasons of “The X-Files”).

His two main supporting cast members are also fairly competent, but again suffer from the same problem – a poorly written script. Anthony Mackie has an extremely moving emotional scene towards the end, but this is completely ruined 5 minutes later by what Renner’s character does (it’s the end, so I don’t want to spoil it – but it is retarded). The script seems to jump around frantically, sometimes reading like a dark, powerful anti-war film, and at other times seeming to be a parody of anti-war films, with pointlessly comedic sections, and an ending that couldn’t have been any more pro-American if it had been shot to that song from Team America:



Yes, I realise that this was a satirical anti-war commentary as well, but my point still stands - most Americans would see it as being a pro-war, pro-America song...

Literally, we go from a scene where one of the bomb disposal experts is agonising to a psychiatrist over the fact they could have saved their previous team leader (Guy Pierce) from being killed by a roadside bomb if only he had shot the Iraqi holding the detonator when he got the chance, to a scene where they have to detonate 2 bombs in a valley, and after the first explosion Renner says “Wait – I forgot my gloves!” and drives down to the second bomb to get them. I’m 90% certain the movie was written by 2 people who alternated the scenes each of them wrote, then put the movie together without reading each others’ sections. Half of it reads like early Oliver Stone (thinking Platoon rather than Scarface...), and the other half reads like it was written by the Wayans Brothers or Rob Schneider – they are that different!

Also, on the subject of Guy Pierce’s death – Whilst I admit it is clever, killing off the big-name star in the opening 10 minutes and bringing in a nobody to replace him for the rest of the film, it doesn’t work if you play this scene constantly for the trailers so everyone knows it’s coming as soon as the movie opens! Still, beats the kind of false advertising you get from some trailers/posters – What the fuck was up with “The Thin Red Line”? George Clooney got top billing but only had 20 seconds of screen time? Get the fuck out!

On the subject of which – despite the fact that their names made it onto the DVD cover, Ralph Fiennes and David Morse are hardly in this movie. Fiennes gets about 5 minutes of screen time, which is fair enough, I suppose – that’s about what Ted Danson got in “Saving Private Ryan”. But David Morse might as well have not been in the movie – he literally does NOTHING! He has ONE SCENE, in which he asks Renner a pointless question, and that’s it! Which is a real shame – because he’s usually so significant, even in his smaller roles (a certain film where he only has 2 lines yet kills practically every character at the end springs to mind...). But hey, the studios probably made Bigalow hire well known actors just so more people would go see the film, right? She probably wanted to make it with a bunch of unknowns, to make it more real. Although, no matter who was cast in this movie, there’s no way that some bits could be made to seem even remotely “real”...

The scene which springs to mind is one that caused me some annoyance whilst watching the film – the scene Ralph Fiennes dies in. Whilst the lead up to Fiennes getting shot is quite epic, first in the retarded way the American soldiers treat Fiennes as an insurgent because he’s wearing a headscarf and carrying an AK, despite the fact he has such an obviously British accent, and is clearly a white guy, and then in the way that the Iraqi attack on them seems to come from absolutely nowhere, which makes the confusion and panic you see seem more legitimate, the scene, in the end, fails harder than a paraplegic midget using a urinal.

When they come under attack, Ralph Fiennes’s team decide to break out the Barrett .50 cal to snipe the Iraqi insurgents who have them pinned down. Fiennes gets up on the sand bank, and takes aim with the rifle. An Iraqi sniper, however, has a lock on his position, and takes Fiennes out with a single shot. Realising they won’t get out of there unless someone can take out the snipers, Renner and Mackie decide to take over on the Barrett, and so get in THE EXACT SAME POSITION FIENNES WAS JUST SHOT IN to use the rifle, which it takes them at least 2 minutes to actually fire! Although this works out perfectly for the characters in the end, I can’t help but feel that, in real life, they both would have had their heads blown off the second they climbed out into A POSITION THE IRAQI SNIPER WAS ALREAD ZEROED ON AND LOOKING STRAIGHT AT. Or, you know, they would have relocated and set the rifle up in a different place, like REAL soldiers would have.

And that’s the thing – countless movies have ridiculous moments where, were it real life, the characters would undoubtedly be killed. I’ve seen more movies in which a soldier runs away from a helicopter or machinegun nest with bullets flying up all around them than I can keep count of. What’s different here, however, is that, despite being no less believable, the soldiers in The Hurt Locker have no reason to put themselves at such risk, and so just seem incompetent. I’m sure there are some plain stupid soldiers in the army who wouldn’t know to relocate from a position a sniper has a lock on, but it just seems preposterous, and you feel they should have been shot.

Another thing that has me confused about this movie is the fact that on the IMDB trivia page it states that the film was shot in a 100:1 aspect ratio. Now, I watched this film on my old 28” 4:3 TV (Yes, those still exist), and it seemed perfectly normal – so unless I was missing about 99% of each shot off the sides of the screen, the chosen aspect ratio just seems pointless. Also, why shoot a movie in 16mm for a “documentary style” when it is evidently such a ridiculous script? None of the characters did anything more bizarre than Robert Duvall’s character in Apocalypse now – and yet here, the stupidity of the characters seems to ruin the film, rather than enhance it. I think if Bigalow had realized the script was probably meant to be an Apocalypse Now style mash-up of preposterous characters and unrealistic situations, the film may have been better. As it stands, however, it just seems like a badly written film that tries to be real and fails (see complaints, above).

This is what leads me to think the only reason Katherine Bigalow won the Oscar for Best Director was simply so the Academy could say that a woman had now won an Oscar, and show that they weren’t discriminating against women (afterall, the film was released in 2008, so theoretically shouldn't have been eligible for this year's Oscars). The film is average at best, and either the script is absolute bollocks, or it was just really bad direction (or both?). The cinematography (what I could see of it on my 4:3 screen) seemed good, given they were going for the “documentary feel” – and the grainy, shaking camerawork was far less off-putting than in “Public Enemies” (which I intend to review soon – but don’t get me started on the camera work in that!), and seemed more genuine. However, as stated above, given the script, I think this was the wrong choice, and something a good director should have realised.

What I haven’t taken into account, however, is the fact that I haven’t actually seen any of the other films that got best director nominations, and they could all be shit. So, for fairness, I shall now comment on the other nominees without actually bothering to go out and research the films they were nominated for (that’s fair, right?). Oh, also, since I can’t really comment on the direction without seeing them, “Directing” shall henceforth mean “Suspected Overall Quality of Film”, or SOQF for short:


JAMES CAMERON – AVATAR:


Google image search result for "Avatar" (as far as you know)

This film has gotten incredibly good reviews all across the board, and almost everyone I’ve spoken to who has seen it loved it. However, I couldn’t help but be reminded of Jar-Jar Binks when I first saw the Na'vi in the trailers, and that can’t be a good thing. I’ve also not quite gotten on this 3-D bandwagon yet, so am not too sure about the concept – afterall, every 3-D movie I can think of that didn’t come out in the last couple of years is awful (Jaws 3, Friday the Thirteenth Part 3, etc.), and every one that did, I haven’t seen. Also, it seems too gimmicky – I’ve heard they’re doing Saw 7 in 3-D... am I the only one who realises how retarded that idea is? Nevertheless, I intend to go see Toy Story 3 when it comes out, so may be impressed by 3-D yet. Also, the film just seems to be the plot of The Last Samurai (or Dances with Wolves – hell, even Little Big Man) again. Sure, it’s not a bad story, but it’s hardly original or ground-breaking. Still, I find it hard to believe this film could be worse than “The Hurt Locker”, given how many people have told me they loved it. Plus it’s fairly innovative (in terms of technology, not script). Avatar has just come out on DVD, so hopefully someone I know will get it and I can see what all the hype is about – but I highly doubt the effects will be better than those in Terminator 2 (Cameron’s high-water mark).



QUENTIN TARANTINO – INGLORIOUS BASTERDS:



Google image search result for "Inglorious Basterds". If you spell "basterds" with an 'a' and look far enough...

I haven’t really heard too much about this film, which is probably a good thing. When Kill Bill came out, people were raving about it, but I was less than impressed whilst watching it. Hell, the only real achievement in that film is the kick-ass soundtrack put together by the Wu-Tang-Clan’s RZA. Reservoir Dogs, however, I had heard nothing about, but absolutely loved – and by that rationale, I am going to assume that Inglorious Basterds is fairly good. On top of this, I loved the original film, “Inglorious Bastards” (or “G.I. Bro” if you got the Blacksploitation version), which my younger brother got me for Christmas under the impression he had found a newly released film for only £3... I therefore suspect this film is more deserving than “The Hurt Locker”. Plus, you know the soundtrack’s gonna rule!



LEE DANIELS – PRECIOUS: BASED ON THE NOVEL PUSH BY SAPPHIRE:



Google image result for "Push by Sapphire" - I'm liking the look of this film already!

So, is the Novel called “Push by Sapphire”, or is it called “Push” and written by someone named “Sapphire”? And why isn’t the movie named “Push” or “Push by Sapphire” rather than Precious? And given they were going to name the movie “Precious”, why put in the title that it was “based on Push by Sapphire”? Goodfellas isn’t known as “Goodfellas: Based on Wiseguy by Pileggi”, is it? Although, in Germany it is known as “Goodfellas: Drei Jahrzehnte in der Mafia”, but I digress... I don’t know anything about this film, other than what I saw in the 5 second films parody – but on the grounds of that, I feel I can say this film deserved the Oscar more than “The Hurt Locker”. A cat and his dim-witted owner who travel through portals into overly-bleak, melodramatic urban dramas? Sounds riotous!



JASON REITMAN – UP IN THE AIR:



Google image search result for "Up in the Air"

On the one hand, Jason Reitman insulted guys with yellow bedrooms, and for this he must DIE! On the other hand, this movie has George Clooney playing the lead, so must be good... hmm, tough one...

From this, I think it’s safe to assume that the Oscars only awarded Bigalow the award for Best Director due to political reasons, wanting to support feminism in the work place, much in the same way they encouraged a move toward gay rights by awarding Sean Penn the Oscar for “Milk”, or how they encouraged paedophilia by giving Polanski the Oscar for “The Pianist”. Wait...



RATING:

**

2/5

Lack of clear vision or direction is what really hampers this film, with the scenes too disjointed and different for any clear sense to be made of what the movie is trying to achieve. The very up-and-down nature of the tone, going between poorly written comedy to sheer horror simply intensifies this feeling, and in the end it seems like the movie doesn’t really have a message behind it; it is nothing more than a collection of scenes, none of which are all that impressive. If you want a good War film, watch Platoon instead. If you just want a random selection of scenes that vaguely fit into an action story, may I recommend Rocky IV? It’s infinitely better.



Voice






The best REAL result for "Avatar".