squidbag

The Bright-Ass Sun

I walked out my door, and I said to myself,

"Hey, self, that's some bright-ass sun!

I do not think that it could be any brighter,

if 'twas a flashlight fired out of a gun.

In my eye.

To make the sun brighter, to make it more searing,

I would need a rocket gas supernova bomb,

and the biggest damn book of matches,

you'd never see again - 

after looking into the bright-ass sun!

Like in Pi."

I threw on my sunglasses, but then they just melted,

and my eyes looked like Nazis at the end of Raiders.

I fell in my driveway, and the mail combusted,

it was all 'cause the bright-ass sun.  Was there.

As I struggled inside, for my A/C & TV

scraping melty plastic from my face,

It was reflection big yellow, screaming at me,

last glass attack from the bright-ass sun. 

Cycles

I don't want to open up a big bag of cheese or anything, but sometimes you can't help but notice stuff.

On the 24th, on Tuesday, my wife's chorus, NiH (which I do extremely occasional backstage work for) lost one of its members, Marky Pace, after her long fight against a brain tumor. Marky was a completely open and receptive person, someone who feels like you've known her forever even when, in my case, you've probably only ever had about five substantial conversations. Well, and once I spent a Saturday lugging dirt and stuff around her garden. Marky had a great smile and a kind demeanor, but also eyes that said she'd seen her share of the shit, pal.  That when there needed to be, there was steel behind that smile. That she'd managed to experience life like that without being darkened by it is a quality of which I'm profoundly envious. Marky was a bright presence in the world and will be missed sorely by those she leaves behind.

The next day (because you see where I'm going with this), on the 25th, one of the other members of NiH had her baby. Kate Pritchard and Mark Doyle welcomed Rose Elizabeth Doyle to the party here with the rest of us, and since many of my blog readers do not know Kate and Mark, let me explain something to you.  Yes, yes - Rose is a gorgeous baby small person - her little nose alone in the pictures'll just kill you - but the important thing here is that Kate and Mark are awesome open-minded good smart people, and I have every confidence that they will be shaping Rose into one of those people we need more of here on Earth.  So congrats to the Pritchard/Doyles!

Now: go have your Friday.

Murfreesboro Mosque III

Ah, Tennessee.  Your tradition of ignorance lives on.

Andrew Jackson, 7th President of the United States is from here.  Trail of Tears and all that? Pet Banks? Yeah, we got him. We're proud as fuck of that guy. We also got Polk, who was so similar to Jackson that they called him "Young Hickory." Then there's Andrew Johnson, who tragically fucked up Reconstruction while also becoming the first American President to be impeached. Tennessee was with the CSA during the Civil War, of course. Let's see - there's also the overblown madness of the Scopes Monkey Trial, which is only kind of our fault, and then Dr. King being shot & killed in Memphis, but Ray was from Illinois, right?  It did take us until 1953 to get rid of poll taxes, though.  I mean, I know it's not all bad - there are many good things about Tennessee - but there are days when it really doesn't feel that way.

The Islamic Center of Murfreesboro, which you can read about from me here, here, and to a lesser extent, here, (and visit their FB page) is back in (local) news again, as possibly the dumbest trial since - well, Scopes, maybe - ramps up here in the 'Boro.

The thrust of this most recent round of legal wrangling stems from the complaint from local hatefilled anti-Muslims that they weren't properly notified of the County Planning Commission hearings that approved this building, because if they had known, they'd have shown up to protest it.  This, despite notices in one of our local papers preceding the meeting.  Apparently, the paper's not good enough, says local shithead Brian Gregory of Millwood Drive in Murfreesboro, who was empty-headed enough to say out loud, to a reporter, "I thought the county should notify me. Should I be expected to go down to the Square every day and pick up newspapers?" To which the answer of course is YES!!!  Yes, goddammit, you ridiculous dumb lazy motherfucker!  If you want to know about shit, seek it the fuck out!  What's next, you asking for fucking Paul Revere on horseback riding through Murfreesboro yelling "The Muslims Are Coming?"

These people also think that the notice that was published in the Murfreesboro Post needed to have borne a big red label reading WARNING: MOSQUE instead of the Planning Commission doing what it always does and following years of court-tested legal precedent and rules and treating the Islamic center just like any of the other too-massive places of worship which dot Murfreesboro.  See - you have to treat them differently because they're Muslim, and many folks here wash out their mouths after they say that word.  They have tried, over the last two years or more, to intimidate the mosquers away, then to claim that they were terrorists in open court, making all kinds of ridiculous statements.  There's been vandalism, the Daily Show, and so on, and now what?  "Well, we think we shouldn't have to read the newspaper to find out about stuff in our community we don't like.  And also, the Post is too small to count.  Oh, yeah, and there should have been flyering."

So you're a sense-of-community impaired dickhead who doesn't like living here is what I get out of that. You couldn't get a group together to flyer, and your paper's not widely circulated enough.  Wow. Between all of that and the Muslims already (for 30 years) in our community who'd like a bigger building, I think you should move.  I think you'd be happier someplace else.  I know I'd be happier if you were someplace fucking else.

But perhaps not; since here you're led by King Dickhead, otherwise known as Kevin Fisher, who has to be the dumbest mouthpiece for hate ever to defile dirt with his very presence.  Using a string of garbled sentences, sports metaphors and misleading language, he's been leading the charge on this thing for a couple of years now, since he unsuccessfully ran for School Board.  He's one of those guys who's never really on message - claiming in one spot that he's just defending a "love centered community" and in another saying, "I should not have to chase down information from the government, especially when it involves an ideology that I do not agree with."  Once again, for the cheap seats: IT WAS IN THE FUCKING PAPER!! The newspaper.  It's everywhere - libraries, the schools, grocery stores. You're not having to chase it down.  Also, Kevin - I disagree with your ideology, and I'm tired of chasing down your information on Facebook, Google and in the paper.  I want my fifteen minutes back, and in future, you should send me this information directly, or perhaps rent a dirigible with the notice painted on the side.

Look; this all gets down to you people hating on Muslims, and thinking that they shouldn't have a bigger building here because, according to you, they're bad for the community.  Try to see this from my point of view, folks: I think 99% of what religion does is bad for the community, and your big-ass buildings rape your god's soil and block out his sun.  I'd never hear from any of you fuckers again if I had a choice, but I don't, because it's your country, too.  Sharing is about nobody getting all of what they want. Just admit it - you don't like the competition, and you've got an ideological axe to grind, but really, really, you don't have a logical argument that actually works.

All I ask is quiet. 

Bullyshit

We live in a bully culture.  I believe this very strongly and regard it as a primary failure of our social discourse further arguing that we have not really achieved the apogee of our civilization's progress until civility can be injected / restored to our interactions, micro- and macroscopically.

I am well acquainted with bullies, and with the use of violence myself.  I was not the nicest person for a number of years (and still make perhaps more than my share of friends when I go out) but I would draw a distinction between being a constantly angry short-tempered smart-ass who fought a lot and someone who systematically uses fear, intimidation and belittling to deliberately keep someone else (or a group of someone elses) in line or in what a bully perceives as their "place."  I would also acknowledge that this is perhaps, not my distinction to draw.

I was in the car listening to Harvey Weinstein on Talk of the Nation talking about the process of pushing Bully into theaters with the PG-13 instead of an R the other day, and thinking for the umpteenth time that I want to see this movie. At the same time, as always, I was internally wrestling with my own feelings about my role in the bully culture, as detailed above.  At the end of the program, "Tom" called in from Iowa City and singlehandedly convinced me of two things: TOTN needs a new call screener, and I will never to go to Iowa fucking City.

TOM: I think we need bullying. I know I'm going to get a lot of people who'll disagree with what I'm going to say, but I think we need bullying to build character and build a backbone. Taking your kids out of school because somebody spits on them, you teach them to stand up for themselves. Put all this whining about, oh, my kids being - I was bullied as a kid. My daughter was bullied as a kid, but I didn't take her out of school because I believe you teach them to stand up for themselves. You spit on me, well, you fight back. Don't sit there and take them out of school because of crying. Don't sit there and whine because they come to you and then you're going to fix the boo-boo. You teach them to be independent. You teach them to stand up for themselves. You teach them to fight back. Because what happens is, you give the bully the power, OK? And that's really about it.

Actually, he goes on like this for awhile, additionally arguing that a friend's son who killed himself was simply weak, and that our culture is a culture of whiners.  This from a man complaining on a Public Radio call-in show.  By the time he was finished, I was hoping that Tom would never see happiness again, and that the social Darwinism he espouses would come over to his house and kill him in the name of evolution.  You were bullied as a kid, Tom?  Well, it's not scientific, but first blush data tells me that kids who are bullied turn into jackasses like yourself.

Children do need to be taught to stand up for what they believe in, but before that, they need to be taught two things: Being decent and considerate to others makes society work better (in addition to having all kinds of other benefits), and that standing up for garbage beliefs is bullshit.  Standing up for meaninglessness is meaningless - just look at Tom, standing up for bullying as a form of character building, in spite of having zero character himself.  As far as backbone goes?  Courage & fortitude are what it takes to rebel against our animal impulses and knee-jerk reactions.  Try not smacking an asshole once in a while, and you'll feel your backbone calcify, trust me.

Finally, that's not what bullying is about anyway.  While Tom thinks he's teaching victims of bullying to be strong citizens, he's ignoring the other side of the equation where we teach a bunch of other kids that it's useful and efficient to push people around to get your way.  That it works, and that the consequences for it are negligible compared to the benefits.  Additionally, folks who adopt the currency of the bully and think that violence is the best way to fix things grow up to kill people in the name of rejecting multiculturalism.  Murderous psychotics start with torturing animals and pushing the boundaries just to see how far they will bend.  Of course, there's also the other side of the story, when the victims decide that backbone backed by bullets works better.

Getting bullying out of our institutions of education and removing the acceptance of it from our social interactions is absolutely a good idea.  For the most part, it's something we as a race of humans should have grown out of as soon as "biggest, strongest" was no longer the most desirable sexual traitset for furthering the species.  Bullies are insecure or stupid or both, or simply get off on power and the thrill of adrenalized violence and subjugation. Tacitly sanctioning sadism is what you're doing when you don't support this movement.  It's not about weak or strong or gay or different or race or geek or whatever. It's about us climbing up an evolutionary ladder.

Rank Escapism

I have collected and read comic books for 31 years now, and while I sometimes read for relaxation, fun, or to appreciate fantastic stories and great literature, sometimes I'm reading them for the simple escapist need that prevails when I'm coming to the end of something (this semester) things are up in the air and I can't focus properly for straight text, or there's some kind of overarcing problem in my life. This is when I'm simply staving off the unresolved.  Typically, I favor the TPB form of comics at these times because they're easier.  The stack that's bedside right now:

Punisher: Circle of Blood - The 1980s series that was the 1st reinvention of the Punisher and the one that launched him into top-tier status as a Marvel character.  Lots of gitty prison and espionage/betrayal stuff - the art's a little uneven, but a good solid story, like a 70s action movie.

Hellblazer: Dark Entries - A John Constantine story by my favorite Scots novelist, Ian Rankin.  Involves hell, ghosts, bad karma and reality television.  Good stuff.

Daredevil: Guardian Devil - The Kevin Smith / Joe Quesada run of DD that spawned the early 2000s round of interest in the character and inspired the movie, for better or for worse.  I don't know how well the story's holding up, but the dialogue's Kevin Smith and the art's fun to look at.  I think my favorite parts are the Black Widow and Dr. Strange cameos, so I don't know what that says about me.

X-Men/Phoenix: Endsong - This one's mostly for the art, but the idea of Phoenix as an ever-evolving force of nature being explored here is pretty good - draws from a lot of X-Men continiuity, so may not be particularly reader-friendly to non-nerds.

Astonishing X-Men: Gifted, Dangerous, Torn & Unstoppable - Whedon and Cassaday's revolutionary X-Men run, four volumes.  You will never read a superhero comic that is as consistently good and as much fan as this one manages to be for 25 regular issues, which is what this was.  Whedon's Buffy was based on Kitty, and his dialogue captures X-Men interaction perfectly, while Cassaday's finishes, buildings, faces, and details are spot-on.

Switchblade Honey - Warren Ellis reimagining Star Trek or Firefly with a crew pulled from his toxic fuck imagination.

Batman: Ego - Darwyn Cooke's old school-looking DC Universe and imagining of Batman's id in this one are what make it; the whole thing is basically an exploration in conversation as to why someone would ever want to / agree to be Batman.

Hitman: Ace Of Killers - One of DC's most underrated characters involved in what amounts to basically a six-issue gunbattle in a church.  Features Ennis' Section Eight (with Dogwelder), a Nazi demon called the Mawzir, Etrigan, Catwoman, and thousands of rounds of ammo.

Scud: Heavy 3PO - Rob Schrab's bright yellow pinky pointing disposable vending machine robotic assassin gets his start here.

Iron Man: The Iron Age - Last year's love letter to the Marvel Universe told in the form of a time travel story with Iron Man at the center.  Dazzler, Power Man & Iron Fist, Human Torch. Captain Britain, X-Men, Avengers, and Dr. Doom - for a series with a lot of different artists and writers, still works really well.

Superman for All Seasons -  There are lots of good Superman stories - Birthright, Red Son, Man of Steel, Whatever Happened to The Man of Tomorrow, For the Man Who has Everything & so on - this is possibly the best examination of the character, his relationship to his environment and his motivations that exists, and it looks like a fucking Norman Rockwell painting, so maybe you oughta take a look.

Aetheric Mechanics - To explain it would be to ruin it a little - it's very thin, so it doesn't show up in the picture, but it's beautiful and contains lots of fun.  More Warren Ellis, and a little Sherlock Holmes, kind of.

Spider-Man: New Avengers - Begins with changes that force Spidey to move to Avengers Tower, has Hydra and the best clone joke ever in it, and segues nicely into The Other.

Spider-Man: The Other - (ahem) Almost my personal favorite evolutionary Spidey event, second only to Kraven's Last Hunt.  The artwork jumps around a lot, but it's good, and has lots of Marvel Universe goodness contained within.

Orbiter - The last NASA space shuttle ever comes back after 10 years in space with skin on the outside and radical, physics-defying structural changes.  The bastard cousin of the previous Ellis space story listed here.

The Hulk & The Thing: The Big Change - Written to be funny, takes the most amusing parts of these two characters (and Thing dialogue is always funny) and puts them in a cosmic bounty hunter type situation.  Best part is when it is "Hulk's turn to reason with guys."

JLA: Terror Incognita - Return of the White Martians!  Best Batman/Martian Manhunter interactions ever!  Crappy backup stories, but you can't have everything.

JLA/JSA: Virtue and Vice - ALL of the major characters in the DC Universe at the time, solid red herring in the story, nice analysis of DC Universe history, what it means to be good or evil.  Johnny Sorrow's kind of a lame character, but he's put to good use in this.

Drax the Destroyer: Earthfall - One of my favorite "little" stories in recent years, an excuse to return the character to his 1970s glory and has a Skrull in it.

Go get all of these and make your local comics guy happy!

Taking a Break

Once again, there will be people who will know more about this - even people who come here deliberately to read what I write - than I do, but here goes:

I would be willing to bet green money that the last rational thought that goes through the mind of someone before they have a violent break with reality is something akin to "that's not right."  Or perhaps, "Well, that shouldn't be."  I would also allow for, "I've had about enough of this shit," but I bet it's not "Herman the brain elf says to kill the wretched now," or anything like that.  I bet it's a perfectly banal, socially normal and everyday tiny outrage and then there's an audible SNAP, and the next thing you know, people are calling 911 while you're realizing that it's really slippery stepping on someone's broken face pieces like that.

It just seems far more likely that when people really have a nice break with/from reality, they wouldn't have been expecting it, or it probably wouldn't have happened.  I'm guessing most people don't head out to a street meeting or post office or cafeteria or rooftop when they're in a fragile mental condition. Those who do end up on the news of course, but come on - there's lots of non-newsworthy snapping going on, and I suspect it's mostly spur of the moment, happening when people were just out picking up a few things at the grocery, 8 o'clock on a Sunday night.

So I was picking up a few things from the grocery, 8 o'clock on a Sunday night, when I see this guy driving a lemon-yellow Godzilla-sized pick-up truck park in the "RESERVED FOR EXPECTANT MOTHERS" space. He's alone and sporting a handicapped tag, so you'd think he's illiterate, except the behemoth is for sale and there's price info and phone numbers scrawled on the back windows in shoe polish (which I assume at this point is used exclusively for window messages and stucco ceiling cover-ups).  He parks crookedly, of course, because none of these motherfuckers driving giant pickups can ever maneuver them into a normal sized space at anything other than a 35 degree angle with the ass end sticking out into traffic.  He then proceeds to get out without crutches, a limp or assistance and stand there having a smoke.  I step on my thoughts and go fucking shopping.

Fifteen minutes later, and I'm leaving with my purchases.  Now he's just sitting in the banana land barge. As I'm putting my bags in my car, I see my last rational thought - a hugely pregnant woman passing by this jackoff, having parked six spaces past even where I am.  The camel's spinal load maxed out.  I turn, grab my camera, and take this mental giant's picture, starting the conversation with a flashblub.

FUCKO: What are you doing?

ME: Oh, this?  This steals people's souls and converts them to pixels.  I wanted your picture 'cause I see you're expecting a blessed event.

FUCKO: What?

ME: I assume you must be one of those goddamn medical marvels I hear about on cable; a pregnant man, sitting here in the expectant mother's parking space, waiting for your water to break?

FUCKO: Well, I don't - I didn't see any handicapped spots.

(This is when the back of my head gets really cold, and my feet feel like they've left the ground - just for a second.  I've gotten really good at identifying this moment as an adult, and have had fewer police and conversations in my life because of it.  Irrationally, I had a quick vision of staking him through his heart.)

ME: (slowly turns head)  I can see four.  They're directly across from where you're parked.  Right there. I particularly noticed them when that pregnant lady walked past us.

He started his truck and in a labored way, pulled out of the space and left the store.  Once again, I've accomplished only this; I did not entirely give into the moment - there was no snap, and no harm done, unless you're a pregnant woman who had to hike an additional 150 or so feet.  And my eyes hurt.

Easter Homily

Pope Hitleryouth Monsterface er, the First, continued this week of Christian ghost and fairy stories by carrying a single candle into pitch darkness - devoid of altar boys who won't go into any dark room anymore - as a ham-handed metaphor specifically crafted and Church approved for people who can't remember life without reality television.  With the Pope himself cast as the single light in the darkness of the world, he went on to reinforce the insignificance of man in the world by saying:

"The darkness that poses a real threat to mankind, after all, is the fact that he can see and investigate tangible material things, but cannot see where the world is going or whence it comes, where our own life is going, what is good and what is evil."  So for those of you who think that the Hollywood/pop culture characterization of the Church's anti-science position is cartoonish, I would invite you to check out that statement again.  The Pope acknowledges that we can investigate tangible material things, but then denigrates that by implying that this investigation conveys no real knowledge. Without a trace of irony, he went on to say that "truth is stronger than lies," and it was not reported than anyone threw up or anything.  Further bagging on technology, the Pope went on to say, "If God and moral values, the difference between good and evil, remain in darkness, then all other 'lights,' that put such incredible technical feats within our reach, are not only progress but also dangers that put us and the world at risk." So be very fucking afraid of technology, which is apparently powerful enough to obscure the Christian god. "The darkness enshrouding God and obscuring values is the real threat to our existence and to the world in general." Listen - if technolgy can obscure God, like some kind of spiritual light pollution, I don't know if he's a god who can really get things done anyway. Maybe God has issues of his own, you know?  Maybe it's time for churches built to the TechGod?  Maybe we already have them.

He did throw in "Love is stronger than hate," which I desperately want to believe is true, but I think the jury's going to be out on that one for the foreseeable future.

Whatever.  The important message here, as it has been for the life of all organized religions, is "You can't do it yourself.  You need God, and more urgently, his advance team of representatives here on Earth. Let us give you the drive and direction, instead of you listening to your internal guidance on how to do things. Running your life isn't up to you. Here are some shortcuts to thinking, figuring things out and making decisions. Use them and it's easier."  And I'm certain that it is, too.

So Happy Easter, then, the day that some of you celebrate as the day that the Chocolate Zombie Savior Bunny came back from the grave and washed your sins into Hell or something, and the day I call "Sunday" and spend trying my damnedest to avoid the whole rest of the world with their once-a-year piousness and giant hats and pastel-colored children and Bible verse eggs whilst I mow my lawn and prepare for the coming week just like always.  

I like dying eggs, though, which I dedicate to Esther - Esther H. Rosenblatt who lives down the block.  

Springnoises

You can tell that Spring has arrived on the campus where I go to school; as if the official date were like a starter's pistol forcing everyone into a Springtime race, the boys' hair got shorter (and apparently we're going back to patterns and shapes shaved in; I would get a big CMB 'cause we all we got), Winter beards went away, and bowties came out.  I even heard part of a conversation about bowties the other day.  The girls have whipped out the cute shoes and the doubletake short shorts.  Fake tans are in evidence. Everyone's just outside for the hell of it instead of the outside simply being the obstacle between your current inside engagement and the next one.

True to form for Tennessee, as soon as it went from being 50-60 degrees out with people bitching about the cold, and hit the 70-80 degree range, people started bitching about the heat.  I'm not even sure this is a conscious bitching decision for many of these people.

So as I'm walking to class on Friday, I see a guy with a massive boombox cradled on his shoulder, cranking the tunes old school, and it hits me; I won't be late for class, because apparently it's 1985.  My wife keeps telling me that the 80s are back, but come on.  Civil War re-enactors don't actually saw one another's legs off, and there's no reason to carry a fucking boombox.  Especially if you're a white kid, and especially if your music is for shit.  And it's always for shit.  Never in my whole life have I heard a tune on a boombox and thought, "I'm glad I heard that."  It's like those boomcar guys who seek to turn the whole world into the inside of a taicho drum and play music by bands who have a guy who plays "lead distortion."  Actually, I think that's a staff position in GOP races.

The biggest thing I realized about this person though, is that he has to be young, much younger than yours truly.  He'd have to be lacking in historical perspective to make this decision, would have to have missed out on times when people didn't have a choice but to lug big fucking stereos loaded with tapes and D batteries around in order to enjoy their jam, which is what we didn't call them then.  He wasn't around to fully appreciate the technological global moment of muted sound that happened when Walkmans really took off and headphones proliferated and we no longer had to put up with the garbage music only listened to by people who are still developing taste.

Or maybe his iPod broke.  I just hope this doesn't become a thing I hear all the time, or I might have to start taking a hammer around with me wherever I go.

Working Titles

Recently, I had three graphics projects - two with elements of original text and one with just straight up layout and formatting - which took me hours and hours camped out in front of my computer in the windowless den surrounded by notes and pictures and books and soda cans.  Lots and lots of soda cans. During much of this, I had movies going on the television in the background after I reached a point where music wasn't doing it for me anymore.  A lot of this was on because I'd seen it a thousand times and didn't have to actually watch - I could take breaks and get the good parts.

Sucker Punch (2011): Another film from Zach Snyder that may have more going on than the total lack of plot would imply inasmuch as it is kind of a reflexive parody of itself, but also a lot of the rest of what Snyder makes.  Pretty to look at, but gets tiresome after a short while.  An exception to the above rule; I hadn't seen this one and watched while I was getting my materials and notes and stuff arranged. 

Unbreakable (2000): One of the two M. Night movies I actually like, though I know a lot of people did not.  No sneezing trees or weak aliens in this one, just some straight up comic book homages, good acting by actors you forget are in there (like Robin Wright and Charlayne Woodard) and solid drama.  M. Night's scenes are perfect for a movie you're not really looking at, since they're long on shots of banality, long on drama, and short on content in most cases.

The Usual Suspects (1995): Some of the most satisfying movie dialogue on the planet, also a movie I've seen so many times I don't really have to look anymore.

The Terminator (1984): I forget how effective this movie is when I go for a while without watching it. Fun things to look for - Master Thespian Bill Paxton in his finest role ever, much improved by its brevity, Lance Henriksen's speech about the guy who fucked his Afghan hound, Linda Hamilton's haircut, and "Tech Noir."

Kathy Griffin: She'll Cut a Bitch (2009): My first Kathy Griffin stand-up, won't be my last, but I think I need her in smaller doses.  Love her like I love straight chocolate syrup.

The Phantom (1996): A gloriously horrid romp of a movie and something I'd probably never actually sit and just watch.  Billy Zane kicking ass in purple tights, Kristy Swanson and I forgot - Catherine Zeta-Jones.  Also, Treat Williams, the only actor as bad as Bill Paxton.

Dirty Harry (1971): Pretty much watched just to take the edge off of having watched the Phantom. One of my all-time favorites.  Had forgotten about the unholy noise that comes out of Andy Robinson when Harry knifes him in the leg.

The Losers (2010): I unabashedly love everything about this movie, even though it can never measure up to the comic.  I don't think that's really important when you have a chase scene with a Journey soundtrack.

Thor (2011): Honestly?  I like this movie, but I threw it in because I wanted to see Idris Elba be a good guy.  Without giving too much away, you understand.

Wag the Dog (1997): Suffers from a disasterous third act, but is written so well, you can get past that. DeNiro, Hoffman, Anne Heche, Denis Leary, Willie Nelson, Woody Harrelson - also?  Should be required viewing for American citizens during every election year.

Silverado (1985): The Big Chill in the old West.  Kind of.  Filled wall-to-wall with insane acting talent. "Pick up my hat."

Jim Gaffigan: King Baby (2009): Apparently, all of the comedy specials on Netflix are between 2 and 3 years old.  This one's not "Beyond the Pale," which is masterful, but it's still pretty damn good.

Grosse Pointe Blank (1997): If I have to tell why you should see this, then I weep for you.  "This is me breathing."  I always think of Jon Broad during the convenience store shootout.

Grizzly Man (2005): This one also breaks the rule, inasmuch as I'd never seen it, and needed a real break and so watched it.  There's nothing easily said about this movie, but I could break into simple emotional responses; love the movie, like Herzog, don't like Treadwell.  Certainly not as much as the bears did. Sorry.

Iron Man 2 (2010): taking the sting off of the previous movie.

Angels & Demons (2009): One of those movies that could easily have sucked if sub-par actors were involved, but doesn't.  Also has kind of a pitiful third act, and I would have less action vs. talking about Catholics, but that's probably just me.

The Big Lebowski (1998): Just behind Miller's Crossing for my favorite Coen Brothers movie, and the reason there's a cult of slacker bowlers out there.  Perfect for the end of the work.