Video showing off my new game.
Archive for July, 2011
Video showing off my new game.
For years now I have been vaguely aware that a band called The Black Eyed Peas existed. I think I’ve heard a few snippets of their music, but for the most part I just didn’t notice them. That’s the sort of thing that happens when you get into your thirties.
This summer my wife and I have been watching America’s Got Talent, and there is some sort of new rule that every third performer needs to set their act to some recent remix thing set to Misirlou. Or as people my age call it, the Pulp Fiction song.
Out of curiosity I looked the song up online, and it turns out The Black Eyed Peas do a version, where they basically just play the original recording and add lyrics about how awesome they think they are.
Now I’m pretty sure that I am missing the whole point when I see this video.
What we have here is what basically amounts to the sort of multi-racial gang you only see in an 80’s after school special (You know, the kind desperately trying to give away a big pile of expensive drugs) that somehow have the sort of martial arts finesse and chi powers normally reserved for particularly over the top anime. And they use these abilities in the underground fight circuit where they whale on people that don’t have a fraction of their skill, and get in their faces about it. Then one of them punches out the camera man.
Catchy song, but man, what a bunch of assholes.
That was one of the most uncomfortably creepy movies I have seen in a long time.
I kind of want a shower.
Here are some important lessons that I learned from this movie.
Spoilers and potential icky to follow.
Drop everything you are doing, and pay attention to this. Do I have your undivided attention?
Somebody set this up for me.
And this is how you deal with bigots.
Why can’t I find a recording of this song that doesn’t have the characters talking over it?
(Note: before anyone says anything, the duet version from the movie, not the Debbie Harry solo version which is easy to find.)
- “From my cold, dead, sticky hands!” Michelle Bachmann pledges to ban pornography. In related news Michelle Bachmann is still a fucking idiot.
- Giligan’s Island Larp Goes Horribly Awry.
- Canadian Teen saves Scotland from a level 2 zombie outbreak, and this is the thanks he gets.
- I am probably taking the wrong lesson away from this, but evidently you can steal valuable and rare paintings by just walking out of the museum with them.
- So it turns out that hacking the voice mail of crime and terrorism victims as part of investigative journalism is too far. Bonus: They actually interfered in a criminal investigation involving a missing woman.
- Nancy Grace may have inadvertently caused Casey Anthony’s acquittal in a blinding flash of irony.
- Speaking of irony: When selecting a security company to protect your money, you may want to go with the guys who were not robbed like it was a bad 80’s action movie.
- Useful tip: If a bunny tells you to burn things, you might want to consider getting a second opinion. Satan doesn’t count.
- As a general rule, your local PTA is probably not the place to pick up get-rich-quick investment tips.
- Off Lot Entertainment loses a bet, and must now produce the Space Invaders movie.
See if you follow my thought process here:
Sesame Street teaches us that in New York there is an ethnic enclave of puppets, similar to Little Italy or China Town.
History teaches us that ethnic enclaves such as this are usually the result of a large influx of immigrants from the same place, in a relatively short period of time.
History also teaches us that when this happens the new immigrant is frequently marginalized by society at large. Which can result in the first several generations getting heavily represented in crime and vice.
All of this means at some point in New York’s past, puppets controlled the drug and prostitution rings. Gangs of tiny fuzzy miscreants meted out violent street justice to their enemies, and did battle in the dim alleys.
Corroborating evidence: Gordon, from Sesame Street, was once a pimp. Which would explain how he has been able to spend all of his time hanging out in a cul-de-sac for the past forty-two years without any visible means on employment.