Dregs Benedict

AAARRRGGGGHHH!!!! I simply, positively do NOT want this site to turn into BigHollywoodBlowsChunks.com but they make it so...damn...HARD. Yesterday, though, I gave into temptation and wrote about Dirk Benedict's whinefest in which he openly wondered why people would prefer the modern, complex, interesting version of Battlestar Galactica that's on TV today instead of the stupid version he did three decades ago in which, if his article was anything to go by, he somehow defeated Cylons every week by smoking cigars and having sex with women who existed as nothing more than receptacles of his semen. The answer he came up with was that modern society was made up of femmy little pussies who would naturally reject a guy like him who's 150% man. Secure in the knowledge that I was done with them for a week or so, I look in my RSS reader today to find this, something that looks like it was written by a schizophrenic. It also makes me want to ask a question of Big Hollywood higher ups Andrew Breitbart and John Nolte: What the hell do you have to do to have a piece rejected by Big Hollywood?

I have no idea how many different drug combinations it takes to start writing as if you were the first guy who ever stopped being young...

At my very first convention, I was coming out of an elevator as a fan was entering. She glanced at me, gasped and said, “My God, what happened to you?” It took me a couple minutes to understand her statement. What she was gasping about and referring to was the all too visual fact that I no longer looked the same. I had changed! AGED! She found this fact surprising. Stunning, perhaps, from the size of her gasp. This gave me pause.

...and then work your way up to this...

Fear, in other words, that it is not God, but Mickey Mouse who is dead, who has always been dead. Not in image, but in spirit. Spirit-less. A poseur. Not even a real rodent (they too are mortal) but the mere image of one, mass marketed by the same propagandists and sellers of false dreams that sold us our own image of ourselves. And if Mickey, our hero, our God, our star of stars, is dead … then what chance have we?

Wow. Just...wow. I think, if I so chose, that I could write about nothing but this article for the rest of my life and, upon my passing, the task could be taken up by my heirs. Thing is, I don't want to but it's so...difficult...like this part where he writes,

"Mickey is God. The old God is dead. Long live Mickey. He is the essence of our own divine image, of our celebrated selves, as we struggle for rejuvenation ad infinitum. We have created a new God and he is Us. We idolize our Selves. We are the viewer and we are the viewed."

How am I supposed to let that go? It literally could be used as the definitive example of incoherence and NOOOO I did it again. See? I started writing about it. I swear, I didn't even know I was doing it. I thought I was writing about Twilight until I looked up and saw that. Ok, here I go...

I love this headline from MTV Movies Blog:

Yep, I saw that headline and thought, "Wow, deleted scenes AND a documentary? Why, this'll just be the absolute mostest awesome DVD ever. No one's ever done that before cause, if they had, it certainly wouldn't rate being presented as a big deal in the headline." Seriously, this is like bragging that the Twilight DVD will include the movie. Unless one of the deleted scenes was Ashley Greene and Kristen Stewart showering together, this didn't rate a headline. This is as crazy as writing something like...

Choose your poison. More surgery? More toys? More fame? More fortune? More…? All suicide. All attempts to avoid the Hemingwayesque death of the individual too long in idolatrous worship at the altar of his own image.

CRAP, I did it again! What else? Must find something else...

Hey cool, Joss Whedon's writing and producing a horror movie. Even though this is one of those movies that is shrouded in Cloverfield-like secrecy, Whedon is one of the few people who ever existed who has my absolute trust that whatever project he's involved in will be at least watchable. Hell, who would have thought that he could take the idea of "Let's see if Doogie Howser can sing," and turn it into something as great as Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long Blog? If you've never seen it, here's one of my favorite clips where Dr. Horrible is singing about the evil rising up inside him:

Were we to let go of our false images; peel the onion layer by layer; take the mirror off the wall and let go until finally we found our real uniqueness buried at the bottom of all the imagery … on the other side of the looking glass, what would we discover? That it is not just “us” at all but rather …what?

God? Spirit? And then what…?

And then nothing.

Huh? What happened? Where's the freaking clip? I had the YouTube embed code all set to paste and that came up instead. Oh Lord, gotta think fast...

Hey look, Underworld: Rise of the Lycans is apparently not being presented to critics ahead of time. I wonder if this means the producers think it's so damn incredible that they don't want to run the risk of ruining all other movies for those poor, defenseless critics. I'll admit that the other two Underworld films are guilty pleasures. This is despite the fact that both films are equal parts incoherent and retarded. I also admit that my affection for the first two is mostly because of my affection for their star Kate Beckinsale. Those movies could have been called Kate Beckinsale Makes A Tuna Sandwich and I probably would have liked them, especially if she was wearing the same leather outfit as in the Underworld films. This would have been especially bad since she's English and they just slap tuna on the bread over there without first mixing it with mayo or celery. Now, for the bad news. Kate Beckinsale ain't in the new film. Still, it does have Rhona Mitra, whom I also like, but I don't know. I guess we must take the blind leap of faith into the web of life. Into the spirituality of our existence, so that we may then begin to enjoy the process of our...hey, wait a minute...

Then we must take the blind leap of faith into the web of life. Into the spirituality of our existence, so that we may then begin to enjoy the process of our life experience. Wherein lies real celebrity and celebration. Real love and strength and beauty and individuality. Real life and immortality.

The rest is all Mickey Mouse.

No. NOOOOO!!!! He's coming. It's too late, I can't stop him anymore. The crazy has been brought, the madness is on the march. Run. Save yourselves. No wait, screw that, save me too.

And...Scene! Let me just give a quick thank you to Dirk Benedict for writing what is both an incoherent, crazy piece of shit and, sadly for him, the second most incoherent, crazy piece of shit he's written this week. I was wondering exactly what sort of framework I would use to do some short comments on these random subjects and he gave it to me. It seems to have cost him his sanity but that's a small price to pay. Well, small price for me. Sure, he'll eventually be committed to some institution where they give him daily Thorazine enemas but I had a topic for today's post, so it all evens out.

All of this has happened before etc.