Two of my friends got engaged this weekend. My first reaction: giddy girl-like squealing. My second reaction: God, I hope there's a open bar. My third reaction: giddy girl-like squealing over the prospect of an open bar.
I've had three burritos in the course of 48 hours. I would say I'm going a bit overboard but then I remembered my hayday where I'd eat nothing but burritos. I'm probably going to eat two more today. One because I'm hungry, and the other to prove that I can.
I still don't understand the phrase "sucking on a chili dog". Damn you John Cougar Mellencamp! On a totally unrelated sidenote, I wish my middle name was Cougar.
If I had to describe this weekend in two words, they would be "pretty" and "awesome". If I had to describe the upcoming week in four words, they would be "evil", "doom", "destruction" and "alabaster."
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
Oh No! There Goes Tokyo!
When I was a kid, I loved disaster movies. Movies about floods, tornadoes, hurricanes, giant fire breathing monsters, you name the disaster, I loved it. I could basically recite the entire script of Independence Day word for word (both the TV edit and the original cut) and name every single monster that Godzilla ever stared down (not that he had much of choice, those painted on eyes couldn't really blink). Unfortunately, watching these movies during my formative years did have an effect on my psych. Basically, I grew up just waiting for disaster to strike.
Now, I can't say that disaster has really struck my life at any point in time. Sure, there was that time that I had to lead a team of oil riggers up to a giant asteroid to blow it up before it landed on New York City, but other than that, I can't really complain too much. But, I do often find myself preparing for the worst case scenario, the one that seems to be just a tad bit unrealistic to actually happen. Although, if you've heard some of the famous "Christian Hoffer too ridiculous to be false" stories that pop up from time to time, you'd totally understand why it helps to be prepared.
You might think that I'm being pessimistic, and to be perfectly honest, part of me is. I expect the worst, even when good things happen to me. When I win the lottery, I don't say "Oh boy, how much money am I getting?" I say "Oh great, what group of professional thieves are going to try to rob me now?" Good dates don't happen with me, only dates that don't leave me in the hospital with a broken leg and a restraining order. So do I over think when I come up with the 51 different reasons how the s*** is about to hit the fan? Well....yeah. But only a little.
See here's the thing. If I learned one thing in the Boy Scouts, it's to be prepared. (If I learned two things in Boy Scouts, it would to be prepared and always carry a knife in case you need to knife fight a bear to the death, but that's a different story) And if things don't end up in disaster, I'm pleasantly surprised and I take it as a good thing. And if they do end up in disaster, well, I have a tent, three weeks of rations and sleeping supplies ready to go to my van just in case that horde of monsters pop up from another dimension and start marching down the east coast.
In other news. There is a God. Michael Sarver got the boot on Idol. I'll say an extra rosary today in thanks.
Now, I can't say that disaster has really struck my life at any point in time. Sure, there was that time that I had to lead a team of oil riggers up to a giant asteroid to blow it up before it landed on New York City, but other than that, I can't really complain too much. But, I do often find myself preparing for the worst case scenario, the one that seems to be just a tad bit unrealistic to actually happen. Although, if you've heard some of the famous "Christian Hoffer too ridiculous to be false" stories that pop up from time to time, you'd totally understand why it helps to be prepared.
You might think that I'm being pessimistic, and to be perfectly honest, part of me is. I expect the worst, even when good things happen to me. When I win the lottery, I don't say "Oh boy, how much money am I getting?" I say "Oh great, what group of professional thieves are going to try to rob me now?" Good dates don't happen with me, only dates that don't leave me in the hospital with a broken leg and a restraining order. So do I over think when I come up with the 51 different reasons how the s*** is about to hit the fan? Well....yeah. But only a little.
See here's the thing. If I learned one thing in the Boy Scouts, it's to be prepared. (If I learned two things in Boy Scouts, it would to be prepared and always carry a knife in case you need to knife fight a bear to the death, but that's a different story) And if things don't end up in disaster, I'm pleasantly surprised and I take it as a good thing. And if they do end up in disaster, well, I have a tent, three weeks of rations and sleeping supplies ready to go to my van just in case that horde of monsters pop up from another dimension and start marching down the east coast.
In other news. There is a God. Michael Sarver got the boot on Idol. I'll say an extra rosary today in thanks.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
If there's one thing that I've learned from network television, it's that everybody loves needless complications. All of the top TV shows features them. House is unhappy for no other reason than he wants to be happy and it makes good drama. Grey's Anatomy features so much needless complication that it takes three flow charts to describe it. Hell, even American Idol features needless complications. That's why they draw out the damn thing for five months when everyone and their great aunt knows who's going to end up in the final three.
Needless complications, however, are a pain in the ass. They're kinda like needless adverbs in Harry Potter books. They're cute at first, tolerable for a while, but by the seventh freakin' book, you just want to fly out to Great Britain and yell at J.K Rowling that WE KNOW HERMOINE SOUNDS SCARED. ONE TENDS TO DO THAT WHEN THEY'RE BEING CONFRONTED BY A DARK WIZARD EVERY TEN FLIPPIN' PAGES. YOU DON'T NEED TO TELL US EVERY OTHER SENTENCE. I'm convinced that 45% percent of the anger directed at the seventh book is subconsiously devoted to the disgustingly disproportionate amount of adverbs that floats around in the previous six books. (By the way, Ms. Rowling, that last sentence featured alliteration. It's one of the many literary tools that exist out there besides bludgeoning the reader to death with adverbs)
So I say to hell with needless complications. If a guy likes a girl, he likes her. If he doesn't, then he doesn't. Why in God's name should there be something in between? To hell with stupid complications mucking everything up. God did not create the universe to fill with needless complications. If God wanted this, then he would have made the giraffe the dominant lifeform and then filled the world with small trees, just to laugh. Luckily, God did not make giraffes the dominant lifeform. In fact, God created the giraffe just to remind us that tall people are only good at playing basketball and eating leaves with blue tongues that are two feet long.
So to get to my point, I'm knocking my needless complications out of my life one by one. If it gets complicated, and it's needless, then to hell with it. It's probably not worth it anyways. I'm sick of the sleepless nights, the stupid neurotic attacks and the nauseating worrying over stuff that ends up falling to the wayside in a month and a half. And no, nothing has caused this outburst, I simply came to the conclusion that needless complications blow and my life will probably be better off without them.
Needless complications, however, are a pain in the ass. They're kinda like needless adverbs in Harry Potter books. They're cute at first, tolerable for a while, but by the seventh freakin' book, you just want to fly out to Great Britain and yell at J.K Rowling that WE KNOW HERMOINE SOUNDS SCARED. ONE TENDS TO DO THAT WHEN THEY'RE BEING CONFRONTED BY A DARK WIZARD EVERY TEN FLIPPIN' PAGES. YOU DON'T NEED TO TELL US EVERY OTHER SENTENCE. I'm convinced that 45% percent of the anger directed at the seventh book is subconsiously devoted to the disgustingly disproportionate amount of adverbs that floats around in the previous six books. (By the way, Ms. Rowling, that last sentence featured alliteration. It's one of the many literary tools that exist out there besides bludgeoning the reader to death with adverbs)
So I say to hell with needless complications. If a guy likes a girl, he likes her. If he doesn't, then he doesn't. Why in God's name should there be something in between? To hell with stupid complications mucking everything up. God did not create the universe to fill with needless complications. If God wanted this, then he would have made the giraffe the dominant lifeform and then filled the world with small trees, just to laugh. Luckily, God did not make giraffes the dominant lifeform. In fact, God created the giraffe just to remind us that tall people are only good at playing basketball and eating leaves with blue tongues that are two feet long.
So to get to my point, I'm knocking my needless complications out of my life one by one. If it gets complicated, and it's needless, then to hell with it. It's probably not worth it anyways. I'm sick of the sleepless nights, the stupid neurotic attacks and the nauseating worrying over stuff that ends up falling to the wayside in a month and a half. And no, nothing has caused this outburst, I simply came to the conclusion that needless complications blow and my life will probably be better off without them.
I performed a very important experiment last night during American Idol. I decided to see what effect, if any, alcohol had on my analysis of the competition. I learned a couple of very important things.
1) I really do not like Kara "Must Sing During Every Critique" DaoGuardi.
2) I really could care less what Megan Joy sounds like because she's the only attractive female left on the competition.
3) I still don't remember who the heck Kris Allen is.
4) Paula and Simon are totally bumping uglies. Totally.
Anyways, the three top performances of the night were Matt Giraud, Anoop Desai and Alison Iraheta. The bottom three were Michael "The Country Guy who Can't Sing Country" Sarver, Megan Joy (the theme weeks have not been kind to her...distinctive voice) and Scott MacIntyre. I know Scott is blind and all, but it's about time he donned a pair of Stevie Wonder glasses. It would raise his coolness factor by a scale of fifteen and eliminate the Randy Travis like stare that he seems to have.
It's interesting to note that none of the three "top performers" had strong weeks. Danny Gokey was alittle lot on the corny side. Lil Rounds disappointed considering Motown Week should have been one of her strong points. And I really won't comment on Adam Lambert, other than to say he's officially won the vote of my cat, who perks up whenever he hits one of the notes that only she can hear.
Next week, I plan on revealing my official top eight prediction, picking who will drop out when and all that jazz. It should be a good time.
1) I really do not like Kara "Must Sing During Every Critique" DaoGuardi.
2) I really could care less what Megan Joy sounds like because she's the only attractive female left on the competition.
3) I still don't remember who the heck Kris Allen is.
4) Paula and Simon are totally bumping uglies. Totally.
Anyways, the three top performances of the night were Matt Giraud, Anoop Desai and Alison Iraheta. The bottom three were Michael "The Country Guy who Can't Sing Country" Sarver, Megan Joy (the theme weeks have not been kind to her...distinctive voice) and Scott MacIntyre. I know Scott is blind and all, but it's about time he donned a pair of Stevie Wonder glasses. It would raise his coolness factor by a scale of fifteen and eliminate the Randy Travis like stare that he seems to have.
It's interesting to note that none of the three "top performers" had strong weeks. Danny Gokey was a
Next week, I plan on revealing my official top eight prediction, picking who will drop out when and all that jazz. It should be a good time.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
An Open Address to the Union
My fellow Americans,
There has been dark rumblings on the wind. Dark rumblings that have spread to even some of those who read this blog. There are some out there who want me to change. There are some who want me to cave in to peer pressure. There are some out there who believe that just because everyone else jumps off a cliff, I should do it too. So I come before you now to reemphasize my position and reassure. I will not cut my hair.
There are several reasons why I won't cut my hair. First of all, it costs money. In this tough economic climate, money is hard to come by and should be spent on important things, like hockey, booze or comics. Hair cuts are a nonessential part of my budget and are therefore deprioritized. What would you see me lose in order to get my hair cut? Food? Electricity? Rent? These are things far too important and more crucial to the survival of the Christian Hoffer lifestyle to simply give up or cut back.
Secondly, my long hair looks good. I could give you example after example after example of people who have told me that my hair looks good long. My friends think so, my employees think so, and random strangers off the street think so. In a day and age where people run around with short hair that gets cut daily, my hair stands out...in a good way. It looks good, there is simply no denying it. As long as it's combed and maintains its form, I basically look like a young Errol Flynn or Gene Kelly.
Thirdly, I look much older with long hair. When my hair is short, I look like Doogie Howser, without the medical degree. I look like I'm fifteen and I'm treated as such. Do you know how demeaning it is to be carded to go to a rated PG-13 movie? Especially when I'm old enough to buy alcohol? Do you know how demeaning it is to have a Wal-Mart employee ask if I'm lost and don't know where my daddy is? I know damn well where my father is! He's 150 miles away because I've been living in Columbus for the last four years! With long hair, I'm carded less, I'm treated with more respect, and customers at the store don't scoff when they find out I'm the manager. Despite my frequent trips to Toys R Us, I am a grown-up and I deserve to be treated like one.
Fourthly, plenty of great Americans have had long hair. Steve Perry had long hair. So did Thomas Jefferson. All four of the Beatles had long hair, and they made the greatest music ever known Do you want me not to make great music? Do you?
To address my critics, who I know have been bought off by the powerful hair cutting industry, I will say this. My hair does not look like a flock of seagulls. This is what a flock of seagulls look like. Note the definite presence of seagulls flying around like little harbringers of doom. My hair looks nothing like a flock of seagulls. If anything it looks like ducks in a row, cool, calm, collected and respectful of authority figures.
So to summarize. My hair looks good. It is not getting cut. If you do not like it, too bad. My hair's long, it's strong and it's staying where it belongs! Goodnight, and God Bless America.
Sorry for the lack of posts, it's been a busy and interesting couple of days. Idol Analysis Tomorrow.
There has been dark rumblings on the wind. Dark rumblings that have spread to even some of those who read this blog. There are some out there who want me to change. There are some who want me to cave in to peer pressure. There are some out there who believe that just because everyone else jumps off a cliff, I should do it too. So I come before you now to reemphasize my position and reassure. I will not cut my hair.
There are several reasons why I won't cut my hair. First of all, it costs money. In this tough economic climate, money is hard to come by and should be spent on important things, like hockey, booze or comics. Hair cuts are a nonessential part of my budget and are therefore deprioritized. What would you see me lose in order to get my hair cut? Food? Electricity? Rent? These are things far too important and more crucial to the survival of the Christian Hoffer lifestyle to simply give up or cut back.
Secondly, my long hair looks good. I could give you example after example after example of people who have told me that my hair looks good long. My friends think so, my employees think so, and random strangers off the street think so. In a day and age where people run around with short hair that gets cut daily, my hair stands out...in a good way. It looks good, there is simply no denying it. As long as it's combed and maintains its form, I basically look like a young Errol Flynn or Gene Kelly.
Thirdly, I look much older with long hair. When my hair is short, I look like Doogie Howser, without the medical degree. I look like I'm fifteen and I'm treated as such. Do you know how demeaning it is to be carded to go to a rated PG-13 movie? Especially when I'm old enough to buy alcohol? Do you know how demeaning it is to have a Wal-Mart employee ask if I'm lost and don't know where my daddy is? I know damn well where my father is! He's 150 miles away because I've been living in Columbus for the last four years! With long hair, I'm carded less, I'm treated with more respect, and customers at the store don't scoff when they find out I'm the manager. Despite my frequent trips to Toys R Us, I am a grown-up and I deserve to be treated like one.
Fourthly, plenty of great Americans have had long hair. Steve Perry had long hair. So did Thomas Jefferson. All four of the Beatles had long hair, and they made the greatest music ever known Do you want me not to make great music? Do you?
To address my critics, who I know have been bought off by the powerful hair cutting industry, I will say this. My hair does not look like a flock of seagulls. This is what a flock of seagulls look like. Note the definite presence of seagulls flying around like little harbringers of doom. My hair looks nothing like a flock of seagulls. If anything it looks like ducks in a row, cool, calm, collected and respectful of authority figures.
So to summarize. My hair looks good. It is not getting cut. If you do not like it, too bad. My hair's long, it's strong and it's staying where it belongs! Goodnight, and God Bless America.
Sorry for the lack of posts, it's been a busy and interesting couple of days. Idol Analysis Tomorrow.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
American Idol Results-March 18th
Sorry about the lack of a post yesterday. It was St. Patrick's Day and I was celebrating it by being sick as a dog. Still am.
So, Idol time. First of all, I would just like to state how much I hate country week. I hate country week, I hate country week, I freakin' HATE country week. There has been exactly one person in eight seasons to perform well in country week, and that was Carrie Underwood. American Idol is supposed to be a pop music competition and country music is very rarely pop music. It's like watching a figure skating competition that's determined by a hockey shootout. There sorta the same...but not really.
It's still too early to determine a good rankings, but I will say that Danny Gokey (the Lenscrafters model) and Lil Rounds (Fantasia 1.5) seem to do no evil in the judges eyes. Still, a couple of pratfalls and they could end up on par with the rest of the competition. Other than that, it's a wide open race. I will say that Michael Carver (the oil rigger with a heart of gold), and Scott McEntryre (the guy who makes American Idol ADA complient) are the weakest links. Everyone else has a legitimate shot at making the top four...except for last night's elimination.
Alexis Grace, AKA the little sexpot who could, got eliminated last night in one of the more infuriating eliminations of all time. I liked Alexis. She had a solid voice, a great body and had a decent backstory. I didn't like how Kara "I write music for Ali Lohan for a living" DeoGuardi tried to slut her up on a constant basis, but I liked Alexis. She was certainly more talented then Kris "Jason Mraz without the personality or voice" Allen or Matt "Killed a Johnny Cash Song Just to See it Die"Lambert. And yet she got the boot.
Now, I'm not going to gnash my teeth over this. I'm not going to bitch and moan about how Michael Carver played up his accent to win the country vote. I'm not going to bitch and moan about how I'm convinced that Alexis was a sacrificial lamb to disprove recent reports that Idol is rigged. For better or worse, we live in a land where crying on TV gets votes and the most talented person doesn't always win. O well, at least we have Motown next week to take our minds off of it.
So, Idol time. First of all, I would just like to state how much I hate country week. I hate country week, I hate country week, I freakin' HATE country week. There has been exactly one person in eight seasons to perform well in country week, and that was Carrie Underwood. American Idol is supposed to be a pop music competition and country music is very rarely pop music. It's like watching a figure skating competition that's determined by a hockey shootout. There sorta the same...but not really.
It's still too early to determine a good rankings, but I will say that Danny Gokey (the Lenscrafters model) and Lil Rounds (Fantasia 1.5) seem to do no evil in the judges eyes. Still, a couple of pratfalls and they could end up on par with the rest of the competition. Other than that, it's a wide open race. I will say that Michael Carver (the oil rigger with a heart of gold), and Scott McEntryre (the guy who makes American Idol ADA complient) are the weakest links. Everyone else has a legitimate shot at making the top four...except for last night's elimination.
Alexis Grace, AKA the little sexpot who could, got eliminated last night in one of the more infuriating eliminations of all time. I liked Alexis. She had a solid voice, a great body and had a decent backstory. I didn't like how Kara "I write music for Ali Lohan for a living" DeoGuardi tried to slut her up on a constant basis, but I liked Alexis. She was certainly more talented then Kris "Jason Mraz without the personality or voice" Allen or Matt "Killed a Johnny Cash Song Just to See it Die"Lambert. And yet she got the boot.
Now, I'm not going to gnash my teeth over this. I'm not going to bitch and moan about how Michael Carver played up his accent to win the country vote. I'm not going to bitch and moan about how I'm convinced that Alexis was a sacrificial lamb to disprove recent reports that Idol is rigged. For better or worse, we live in a land where crying on TV gets votes and the most talented person doesn't always win. O well, at least we have Motown next week to take our minds off of it.
Monday, March 16, 2009
A Loose, Inaccurate History of Ireland
Today is St. Patrick's Day, the national holiday of Ireland. I could go on and on about how amazing Ireland is and how much the Irish rock,but.... actually, that's exactly what I'll do.
There is a story about how Ireland came to be. When God created the heavens and the earth, he originally made Ireland to be the home for Adam, the first man. However, upon seeing the beauty and glory of the Emerald Isle, he decided that it shouldn't be sullied by the likes of Adam, and threw him into some shoddy garden instead.
For years, Ireland remained untouched by the human race, its beautiful hills and crystal lakes free from the destructive habits of man. Then one day, a young St. Patrick discovered an amazing brew. By fermenting barley in a cask, he invented whiskey, also known as the nectar for the gods. God took favor upon St. Patrick and made him the bishop of Ireland, and gave him a feisty, hot-blooded people to tame and teach the ways of Catholicism.
There is a story about how Ireland came to be. When God created the heavens and the earth, he originally made Ireland to be the home for Adam, the first man. However, upon seeing the beauty and glory of the Emerald Isle, he decided that it shouldn't be sullied by the likes of Adam, and threw him into some shoddy garden instead.
For years, Ireland remained untouched by the human race, its beautiful hills and crystal lakes free from the destructive habits of man. Then one day, a young St. Patrick discovered an amazing brew. By fermenting barley in a cask, he invented whiskey, also known as the nectar for the gods. God took favor upon St. Patrick and made him the bishop of Ireland, and gave him a feisty, hot-blooded people to tame and teach the ways of Catholicism.
For hundred of years, the Irish flourished in Ireland. They singlehandedly saved civilization, they invented the Irish jig, and they perfected the art of alcoholism. The Irish learned to live with the land instead of abuse it, and in doing so became as much a part of the land as the Blarney Stone or Guinness Beer. The Irish populated the Emerald Isle with their red-headed children and lived life like it was a giant party, which made all their neighbors jealous. So the bastard English showed up with their crappy teeth and their crappy king and tried to ruin it all. So they did what any good Irishmen would do, made some Irish car bombs, got drunk, and drove them to the crappiest part of Northern Ireland (which happens to be the Protestant part).
After the Irish kicked the English out of Ireland, they decided to spread the wealth of their Gaelic heritage to the rest of the world. They moved to the Americas, the Australias, and the other less awesome parts of the world. And they flourished there too. They perfected the art of the Irish pub, came up with a practical use for the patty wagon, and provided the labor for almost every major construction project for over a hundred years. So what do the Irish do today? Well, they're rulers of the free world, created some of the most prolific songs of our time, and create the most kickass cereal ever imagined.
But the best part about the Irish, better than the history or the red hair or the ridiculous tolerance of alcohol, is that they know what matters in life. They know that God and family are more important then anything else. And the Irish know how to celebrate life and live it to its fullest. That's what St. Patrick's Day is all about: celebrating God, family and life in general. So today, pretend like your Irish. Live life, drink a beer, and kiss someone who's Irish. And if you're interested in doing all three, give me a call. I'll be free after eight.
After the Irish kicked the English out of Ireland, they decided to spread the wealth of their Gaelic heritage to the rest of the world. They moved to the Americas, the Australias, and the other less awesome parts of the world. And they flourished there too. They perfected the art of the Irish pub, came up with a practical use for the patty wagon, and provided the labor for almost every major construction project for over a hundred years. So what do the Irish do today? Well, they're rulers of the free world, created some of the most prolific songs of our time, and create the most kickass cereal ever imagined.
But the best part about the Irish, better than the history or the red hair or the ridiculous tolerance of alcohol, is that they know what matters in life. They know that God and family are more important then anything else. And the Irish know how to celebrate life and live it to its fullest. That's what St. Patrick's Day is all about: celebrating God, family and life in general. So today, pretend like your Irish. Live life, drink a beer, and kiss someone who's Irish. And if you're interested in doing all three, give me a call. I'll be free after eight.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Weekend Shorts
I have a stiletto heel-sized cut in my back. It came from a girl kicking me as I sat at a table below her. She wanted me to take a picture of her and her friends. I took the picture of her friends, but she wasn't in any of them. I cut her out of every shot. She made me bleed, I think it was only fair.
I watched the season premiere of Kings last night. Not bad, but not great. I pray that NBC doesn't hype it up like they did with Heroes. That show had one good season and then it went quicker in the gutter then Marisa Tomei's career.
It's buyback week at the bookstore. It's my least favorite time of the quarter, because I have to explain the hard reality of supply and demand to students. It's especially frustrating when I have to explain "fair market value" to a kid who's trying to sell back his economics textbook.
Cats don't like bearded German men.
The week to come is going to be a doozy. St. Patrick's Day, hockey, a return to the piano bar, and I crack open the champagne bottle on Saturday. Plus March Madness. My liver is going to be working overtime.
I watched the season premiere of Kings last night. Not bad, but not great. I pray that NBC doesn't hype it up like they did with Heroes. That show had one good season and then it went quicker in the gutter then Marisa Tomei's career.
It's buyback week at the bookstore. It's my least favorite time of the quarter, because I have to explain the hard reality of supply and demand to students. It's especially frustrating when I have to explain "fair market value" to a kid who's trying to sell back his economics textbook.
Cats don't like bearded German men.
The week to come is going to be a doozy. St. Patrick's Day, hockey, a return to the piano bar, and I crack open the champagne bottle on Saturday. Plus March Madness. My liver is going to be working overtime.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
The Best Way to Beat a Bear Market is to Kill it Dead and then Kill It Some More
So yesterday I saw a man opt out of buying an ice cream cone because it was "too expensive". You know economic times are hard when $2.59 is too a high a price for ice cream in 35 degree weather. Whereas before I scoffed at this recession as a media driven fabrication, similar to global warming or the WNBA, the self-denial of a Jumbo King Cone gave me irrevertable proof that our economy is in a tailspin. Therefore I've devised of three solutions to immediately resolve this recession and restore our nation's confidence in the buying of cold treats to enjoy on cold days.
1) Kill all the economists.
Experts keep telling us that the economy is to blame for the current recession. Therefore, I propose that we adopt the policy that ignorance is bliss and kill anyone who says otherwise. Basically, we give the economists a month to get all the doom and gloom out of their system and then simply shut down all talk about the economy under threat of death. Confidence in the market goes up because nobody knows that anything is wrong. And who would tell them otherwise? Economics becomes a taboo subject that no one is allowed to speak about, like Brittany Spears' or the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen movie, Sure, it's censorship, but at least we'll no longer have to listen about stuff like "bear markets" or "supply and demand" anymore.
2) Replace all money with trash.
Basically, we say that our refuse has value instead of the flimsy peaces of green stuff we stuff in our pockets and purses. I see a lot of benefits to this system. Income becomes a lot more disposable. The hippies are sated because we start recycling our trash and reuse it a lot more. We're encouraged to consume more because by consuming more, we create more trash, which in turn allows to spend more. Hell, it even cuts back on landfills and littering, which eliminates the threat of crying Indians on our highways.
3) Require all men to grow facial hair.
In the 1930's, FDR created a massive public works program to create jobs and jump start the economy. In the 1960's, Kennedy did the same by aiming for the moon. Requiring all men to grow facial hair would basically do the same thing for today's economy. The instant demand for trimmers and other facial hair products would create millions of jobs and the fierce competition to provide superior products would spur innovation and further R&D at home and abroad. Plus, we'd see classy face-dos like the Burnside and the Octopus.
By immediately adopting these policies, we'd either see an immediate turnaround or an immediate collapse into anarchy. Either way, we'd no longer have a crappy economy. We'd either have a strong economy or no economy at all.
1) Kill all the economists.
Experts keep telling us that the economy is to blame for the current recession. Therefore, I propose that we adopt the policy that ignorance is bliss and kill anyone who says otherwise. Basically, we give the economists a month to get all the doom and gloom out of their system and then simply shut down all talk about the economy under threat of death. Confidence in the market goes up because nobody knows that anything is wrong. And who would tell them otherwise? Economics becomes a taboo subject that no one is allowed to speak about, like Brittany Spears' or the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen movie, Sure, it's censorship, but at least we'll no longer have to listen about stuff like "bear markets" or "supply and demand" anymore.
2) Replace all money with trash.
Basically, we say that our refuse has value instead of the flimsy peaces of green stuff we stuff in our pockets and purses. I see a lot of benefits to this system. Income becomes a lot more disposable. The hippies are sated because we start recycling our trash and reuse it a lot more. We're encouraged to consume more because by consuming more, we create more trash, which in turn allows to spend more. Hell, it even cuts back on landfills and littering, which eliminates the threat of crying Indians on our highways.
3) Require all men to grow facial hair.
In the 1930's, FDR created a massive public works program to create jobs and jump start the economy. In the 1960's, Kennedy did the same by aiming for the moon. Requiring all men to grow facial hair would basically do the same thing for today's economy. The instant demand for trimmers and other facial hair products would create millions of jobs and the fierce competition to provide superior products would spur innovation and further R&D at home and abroad. Plus, we'd see classy face-dos like the Burnside and the Octopus.
By immediately adopting these policies, we'd either see an immediate turnaround or an immediate collapse into anarchy. Either way, we'd no longer have a crappy economy. We'd either have a strong economy or no economy at all.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
I Wonder What Dracula's Stock Portfolio Looks Like...
I heard a funny story today. Apparently, an employer made a hiring decision based upon reading a prospective employee's blog. The blog in question portrayed its writer as a creative, insightful person who would make for a great employee. Since blogs (and the interweb in general) are now fair game for employers to be, I have decided to mold this post to appeal to any future employers that might be lurking.
March 11
6:15 PM: Woke up as the accursed sun went down. How I hate the sun and its rays of death! I long for when the sun never rises so we nightwalkers can roam the earth free.
7:30 PM: Hunted down a hearty breakfast and sucked it dry. A good breakfast is essential to start off the day right. It keeps the immune system healthy and allows you to get a taste for the day to come.
9:00 PM: After I put on my cape and brushed my fangs, I flew to work. I love the evening commute with the breeze rushing past my pointy, transformed ears. And of course, being able to transform into a bat really cuts down on commute time.
11:30 PM: Dealt with some of my favorite people today. Politicians! In this world filled with do-gooders, it's good to know that there's some fellow blood-suckers out there, at least in spirit. In exchange for me not killing them and feasting on their blood, politicians agreed to set aside government money for my non-profit organization, Vampires for a Better World.
1 AM: At lunch, waiter forgot that I specifically requested no garlic in my soup. I was very upset. Was the waiter trying to kill me? I made sure that he got the point (it's a pun, get it?) and insured that he'd never repeat the same mistake twice. Of course, I wasn't very hungry after that.
3 AM: Heard a great joke. What do you call a dead werewolf? A good start. Haha, I hate werewolfs. Lousy, hairy halfbreeds.
5 AM: Finished work and flew home. On my way there, I saw a couple of hooligans defacing public property. I decided to take a bite out of crime and complete my civic duty for the day.
7:30 AM: The sun is about to rise. It's time to get in my coffin and get to bed.
Obviously, I'm banking that there's a lasting effect from this whole Twilight craze and also that vampires have sizable holdings that weren't touched by the recent upheavel in the stock market. Blood banks are recession proof, right?
In other news....
Two out of three ain't bad. Jasmine Murray and Jorge Nunez got kicked off American Idol tonight, sparing Anoop Desai. While I predicted that Michael Carver would get the boot, I simply overestimated the Hispanic vote. It's happened before. Note, however, that I said that Anoop, Jorge and Megan Joy were the three worst performers. Who comprised three of the final four? Anoop, Jorge and Megan Joy.
March 11
6:15 PM: Woke up as the accursed sun went down. How I hate the sun and its rays of death! I long for when the sun never rises so we nightwalkers can roam the earth free.
7:30 PM: Hunted down a hearty breakfast and sucked it dry. A good breakfast is essential to start off the day right. It keeps the immune system healthy and allows you to get a taste for the day to come.
9:00 PM: After I put on my cape and brushed my fangs, I flew to work. I love the evening commute with the breeze rushing past my pointy, transformed ears. And of course, being able to transform into a bat really cuts down on commute time.
11:30 PM: Dealt with some of my favorite people today. Politicians! In this world filled with do-gooders, it's good to know that there's some fellow blood-suckers out there, at least in spirit. In exchange for me not killing them and feasting on their blood, politicians agreed to set aside government money for my non-profit organization, Vampires for a Better World.
1 AM: At lunch, waiter forgot that I specifically requested no garlic in my soup. I was very upset. Was the waiter trying to kill me? I made sure that he got the point (it's a pun, get it?) and insured that he'd never repeat the same mistake twice. Of course, I wasn't very hungry after that.
3 AM: Heard a great joke. What do you call a dead werewolf? A good start. Haha, I hate werewolfs. Lousy, hairy halfbreeds.
5 AM: Finished work and flew home. On my way there, I saw a couple of hooligans defacing public property. I decided to take a bite out of crime and complete my civic duty for the day.
7:30 AM: The sun is about to rise. It's time to get in my coffin and get to bed.
Obviously, I'm banking that there's a lasting effect from this whole Twilight craze and also that vampires have sizable holdings that weren't touched by the recent upheavel in the stock market. Blood banks are recession proof, right?
In other news....
Two out of three ain't bad. Jasmine Murray and Jorge Nunez got kicked off American Idol tonight, sparing Anoop Desai. While I predicted that Michael Carver would get the boot, I simply overestimated the Hispanic vote. It's happened before. Note, however, that I said that Anoop, Jorge and Megan Joy were the three worst performers. Who comprised three of the final four? Anoop, Jorge and Megan Joy.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Follow-Ups and Robot Shootings
First thing's first...Ever wonder what a cyborg murder/suicide looked like? Look no further.
Now, onto the commentary on last night's Idol....
First of all, did anyone else think that it was hilarious that Idol had to use 1877-IDOLS-36 as the final number? Apperantly, IDOLS-13 is a...risque phone line. I hate to think what IDOLS-14 through IDOLS-35 belong to...
There's supposed to be a big twist on tonight's Idol regarding who gets the boot. My money is on the judges getting the final say in who gets voted off. America will play judge and jury, and the judges get to play executioner. Basically, it would be identical to the British version of Idol, X Factor. This will either turn out to be brilliant or horrible. My opinion is that it'll be both. It's brilliant in that the judges get to do something besides being a sideshow for the next 10 weeks. It's horrible in that we're leaving this competition's fate to Paula "Straight Upon crack" Abdul and Kara "I'm responsible for the Backstreet Boys revival" Dioguardi. That just scares me. Either way, it'll make for good ratings. Also, Seacreast said something about two people getting voted off tonight, but Seacreast says a lot of things, so who knows.
Onto Michael Jackson night on Idol....Well, three of my five early contenders lived up to the hype. Alexis Grace, Danny Gokey and Lil Rounds knocked their performances out of the park. Adam Lambert (the guy who made Black and White sound a little evil) and Alison Iraheta (fun fact of the week: she works as a performer for the Latin equivalent to Wal-Mart!) also get props for strong vocals as well. Scott MacIntyre struggled a bit, but he'll be back next week. No way America will vote off a blind man on week one.
Disappointment of the Week award goes to Anoop Desai. What the hell, man! No spunk, no soul, no nothing. Where's the moonwalk? Where's the pelvic thrusting? Basically, Anoop's performance was worse than the thing formally known as Michael Jackson's nose. Hate to say it, but he had one of the bottom three performances of the night.
The other two belonged to Jorge Nunez and Megan Joy. I said that Jorge wouldn't survive some of the theme weeks, and it's looking like that prediction is coming true already. Megan's song choice (Rockin' Robin) was terrible, but what Michael Jackson song would honestly fit her voice? If anything, Megan's performance simply reminded me that hipster's don't really belong in a pop competition.
Still, I maintain that all three have a shot to make it through to the next rounds. Anoop should still have a fan base from the semifinals, Jorge has the Hispanic vote (just remember people, that's how Bush won in 2000), and Megan...well I got nothing to help her out, other then she's the second cutest female in the competition.
So who rounds out my bottom three? Jasmine Murray certainly should get consideration. Her performance wasn't terrible, but it didn't do her any favors. Kris Allen's performance reminded me of this video, which while amusing, isn't Idol worthy. Matt Giraud's performance was forgettable, which is always dangerous in the early rounds, and Michael Sarver just has me worried for some reason. He lacks a real fan base and his performance wasn't the type to create one.
So here's my official final three prediction. Jasmine, Anoop and Michael in the bottom three, with Jasmine getting the first boot and Michael getting the second boot if I heard it correctly. However, if the judges get a say in the matter, I can see Anoop getting sent home over either one, as Simon simply likes Jasmine and Michael better.
Now, onto the commentary on last night's Idol....
First of all, did anyone else think that it was hilarious that Idol had to use 1877-IDOLS-36 as the final number? Apperantly, IDOLS-13 is a...risque phone line. I hate to think what IDOLS-14 through IDOLS-35 belong to...
There's supposed to be a big twist on tonight's Idol regarding who gets the boot. My money is on the judges getting the final say in who gets voted off. America will play judge and jury, and the judges get to play executioner. Basically, it would be identical to the British version of Idol, X Factor. This will either turn out to be brilliant or horrible. My opinion is that it'll be both. It's brilliant in that the judges get to do something besides being a sideshow for the next 10 weeks. It's horrible in that we're leaving this competition's fate to Paula "Straight Up
Onto Michael Jackson night on Idol....Well, three of my five early contenders lived up to the hype. Alexis Grace, Danny Gokey and Lil Rounds knocked their performances out of the park. Adam Lambert (the guy who made Black and White sound a little evil) and Alison Iraheta (fun fact of the week: she works as a performer for the Latin equivalent to Wal-Mart!) also get props for strong vocals as well. Scott MacIntyre struggled a bit, but he'll be back next week. No way America will vote off a blind man on week one.
Disappointment of the Week award goes to Anoop Desai. What the hell, man! No spunk, no soul, no nothing. Where's the moonwalk? Where's the pelvic thrusting? Basically, Anoop's performance was worse than the thing formally known as Michael Jackson's nose. Hate to say it, but he had one of the bottom three performances of the night.
The other two belonged to Jorge Nunez and Megan Joy. I said that Jorge wouldn't survive some of the theme weeks, and it's looking like that prediction is coming true already. Megan's song choice (Rockin' Robin) was terrible, but what Michael Jackson song would honestly fit her voice? If anything, Megan's performance simply reminded me that hipster's don't really belong in a pop competition.
Still, I maintain that all three have a shot to make it through to the next rounds. Anoop should still have a fan base from the semifinals, Jorge has the Hispanic vote (just remember people, that's how Bush won in 2000), and Megan...well I got nothing to help her out, other then she's the second cutest female in the competition.
So who rounds out my bottom three? Jasmine Murray certainly should get consideration. Her performance wasn't terrible, but it didn't do her any favors. Kris Allen's performance reminded me of this video, which while amusing, isn't Idol worthy. Matt Giraud's performance was forgettable, which is always dangerous in the early rounds, and Michael Sarver just has me worried for some reason. He lacks a real fan base and his performance wasn't the type to create one.
So here's my official final three prediction. Jasmine, Anoop and Michael in the bottom three, with Jasmine getting the first boot and Michael getting the second boot if I heard it correctly. However, if the judges get a say in the matter, I can see Anoop getting sent home over either one, as Simon simply likes Jasmine and Michael better.
American Idol....There can only be one!
There's not too many things that I'd consider myself to be an expert on. I simply don't have enough life experience. There are very few things that I've actually observed and experienced long enough to actually really understand what's going on. American Idol is one of those things.
I don't want to like Idol, with it's mediocre performances, blatant and unabashed product placement (they have a coffee table with a freakin' wheel in it for crying out loud), and some of the terrible effects it's had on the music industry (Clay Aiken! Clay Aiken! Clay Aiken!) But for whatever reason, I love it. I love watching people's hopes and dreams getting crushed on live television (realizing that almost all of them will get record deals). I love watchingthe reason that painkillers and Coca-Cola should never mix Paula Abdul make nonsensical remarks about colors and butterflies when she's supposed to critique a performance. Hell, I even love the homoeroticism that goes on between Simon Cowell and Ryan Seacreast.
And to top it off, I even seem to have a knack about guessing what's going to happen on Idol. I correctly predicted the top eight of last year in the order of their elimination. Hell, I even correctly predicted that there would be a top 13 this year (Ask my friend Morbitzer, he was there). So I figured since the interweb isn't filled with enough dribble about American Idol, I'd throw my hat into the rink. So beginning this week towhen I get bored the season finale, I'll offer up my humble opinion on the upcoming week and where the contestants stand on the elimination radar.
Week One
Due to the varying amount of screen time that the finalists have had, I can't really make a firm estimate on what order the contestants will fall. I can, however, easily divide them into three groups: Simon-fodder (the one's who'll be lucky to make it past week three), theUnknowns/Dark Horses, and the Legitimate Contenders.
Simon Fodder
Jasmine Murray-The seventeen year old who apparently too old sounding. She's the easily the weakest link in the top 13. She hasn't had a strong performance since the show went live and made it through purely based on commercial appeal.
Michael Carver-The oil-rigger with a heart of gold. He has the weakest vocals, but his rough and tumble story should carry him for a few weeks.
Matt Giraud-The dueling pianist. I would have rather listened to the Esurance band then his cover of Viva la Vida. The first song that he misfires on will be his doom.
Kris Allen-The heartthrob (?) of the bunch. I sincerely couldn't remember a thing about him until I looked him up. Don't expect America to remember much about him either.
The Unknowns
Allison Iraheta-The most awkward contestant ever. She sang the socks out of Alone, but she never appeared on the show before then. She did apperantly win a Telemundo singing contest by singing Total Eclipse of the Heart, so I don't think she's a one-and-doner.
Adam Lambert-The Twilight/Chemical Romance/goth dude. He can hit the high notes, but that's about it. He also has a shot at clinching the ever-important seventeen year old girl vote if the photo of him kissing another dude doesn't make the rounds on the tween magazines.
Megan Joy Corkroy-The hipster. She's got a different voice, and if she picks the right songs, she could make it count.
Jorge Nunez-The Puerto Rican. I like Jorge, and he's got a great voice. I only worry about him surviving some of the theme weeks (Country week, anyone?)
The Legitimate Contenders
Anoop Desai.-The most awesome contestant of all time. He's a great performer, easily likable, and will have my vote week after week. But will he last down the stretch? He needs to prove that he can hold his own on the vocal end.
Scott MacIntyre-The blind guy. Great singer, great story, and he publicly humiliated Seacreast on national television. Those are the recipes for an American Idol.
Lil Rounds-Fantasia Barrino 2.0-She's got the singing chops. Heck, she's probably the best singer in the competition. I only worry that she'll take on a Mariah Carey song that she can't win.
Alexis Grace-The spunky blonde. The true love of one of my best friends, she's my favorite of the girls. She's got a hell of a voice, but I don't like how she totally changed her image to better compete in Idol. Still, she's got a legitimate shot at winning.
Danny Gokey-The guy who's wife died. His heartbreaking story about his dead wife has made his run to the top of the competition that more touching. Let's just hope the producers don't make the audience tired of hearing about it.
And that's how they divide out in my mind. I'll be sure to update tomorrow after the results come in to see if there's any changes. (Ten bucks says there won't!)
I don't want to like Idol, with it's mediocre performances, blatant and unabashed product placement (they have a coffee table with a freakin' wheel in it for crying out loud), and some of the terrible effects it's had on the music industry (Clay Aiken! Clay Aiken! Clay Aiken!) But for whatever reason, I love it. I love watching people's hopes and dreams getting crushed on live television (realizing that almost all of them will get record deals). I love watching
And to top it off, I even seem to have a knack about guessing what's going to happen on Idol. I correctly predicted the top eight of last year in the order of their elimination. Hell, I even correctly predicted that there would be a top 13 this year (Ask my friend Morbitzer, he was there). So I figured since the interweb isn't filled with enough dribble about American Idol, I'd throw my hat into the rink. So beginning this week to
Week One
Due to the varying amount of screen time that the finalists have had, I can't really make a firm estimate on what order the contestants will fall. I can, however, easily divide them into three groups: Simon-fodder (the one's who'll be lucky to make it past week three), theUnknowns/Dark Horses, and the Legitimate Contenders.
Simon Fodder
Jasmine Murray-The seventeen year old who apparently too old sounding. She's the easily the weakest link in the top 13. She hasn't had a strong performance since the show went live and made it through purely based on commercial appeal.
Michael Carver-The oil-rigger with a heart of gold. He has the weakest vocals, but his rough and tumble story should carry him for a few weeks.
Matt Giraud-The dueling pianist. I would have rather listened to the Esurance band then his cover of Viva la Vida. The first song that he misfires on will be his doom.
Kris Allen-The heartthrob (?) of the bunch. I sincerely couldn't remember a thing about him until I looked him up. Don't expect America to remember much about him either.
The Unknowns
Allison Iraheta-The most awkward contestant ever. She sang the socks out of Alone, but she never appeared on the show before then. She did apperantly win a Telemundo singing contest by singing Total Eclipse of the Heart, so I don't think she's a one-and-doner.
Adam Lambert-The Twilight/Chemical Romance/goth dude. He can hit the high notes, but that's about it. He also has a shot at clinching the ever-important seventeen year old girl vote if the photo of him kissing another dude doesn't make the rounds on the tween magazines.
Megan Joy Corkroy-The hipster. She's got a different voice, and if she picks the right songs, she could make it count.
Jorge Nunez-The Puerto Rican. I like Jorge, and he's got a great voice. I only worry about him surviving some of the theme weeks (Country week, anyone?)
The Legitimate Contenders
Anoop Desai.-The most awesome contestant of all time. He's a great performer, easily likable, and will have my vote week after week. But will he last down the stretch? He needs to prove that he can hold his own on the vocal end.
Scott MacIntyre-The blind guy. Great singer, great story, and he publicly humiliated Seacreast on national television. Those are the recipes for an American Idol.
Lil Rounds-Fantasia Barrino 2.0-She's got the singing chops. Heck, she's probably the best singer in the competition. I only worry that she'll take on a Mariah Carey song that she can't win.
Alexis Grace-The spunky blonde. The true love of one of my best friends, she's my favorite of the girls. She's got a hell of a voice, but I don't like how she totally changed her image to better compete in Idol. Still, she's got a legitimate shot at winning.
Danny Gokey-The guy who's wife died. His heartbreaking story about his dead wife has made his run to the top of the competition that more touching. Let's just hope the producers don't make the audience tired of hearing about it.
And that's how they divide out in my mind. I'll be sure to update tomorrow after the results come in to see if there's any changes. (Ten bucks says there won't!)
Monday, March 9, 2009
What's the Point of Watching Watchmen?
For the last week, I've been trying to figure out what issue I had with the movie Watchmen. This is a movie based on arguably the greatest of comic books. The story is one of the deepest, most layered pieces of fiction ever to grace sequential pages of art. And on the surface, Watchmen lives up to the hype. The movie is basically the comic put into motion form. On a visual level, the movie lives up to every standard that could possibly be put down. Many of the scenes are literally ripped from the pages, bringing the imagery and parallels straight to the big screen.
But something isn't right about the movie. At first, I blamed it on some of the minor issues: the cheesy soundtrack, the lousy transitions between scenes, or the awful acting of Matthew Goode (Ozymandias). However, as I was running today, listening to Alone by Heart, I realized just what was missing. It was missing heart.
My real issue with Watchmen is that I found myself not caring about any of the characters. There's no true emotion involved and it's next to impossible to care about any of the characters. Dr. Manhattan sounds depressed throughout the entire movie, Silk Spectre either pouts, wistfully soliloquizes, or runs around half naked (or naked), and Rohrshach is...well, he's Rohrshach. The Comedian is a murderous sociopath who's almost impossible to empathize with. The only character who's relatable is Nite-Owl, which provides the only character interactions that are remotely enjoyable.
I understand that the point of the movie is to portray superheroes as imperfect and flawed, but Watchmen the comic manage to do this and make you care about the characters. You care that Dr. Manhattan is detached from humanity, you care that Silk Spectre has become bitter living in the role that her mother groomed her for since early childhood, and you care that Rohrshach is...well, Rohrshach. Somehow, Zach Snyder managed to miss the entire emotional part of the story, the part that makes you care that the world is on the brink of nuclear armageddon. You don't care that someone's killing off superheroes. Hell, you kind of hope that they manage to do it in under two and half hours, just so you can escape the theatre a little earlier.
The sad thing is that there are far lesser movies that get its viewers emotionally invested in its characters. The interpretive dance that was Ang Lee's Incredible Hulk at least made you feel sorry for Eric Bana (if only for the fact that his name was attached to the movie). Horror movies make you hope that someone get's out of the haunted amusement park alive, or at least doesn't die a virgin. Hell, even The Notebook made you happy that the two old people finally died at the end.
I don't mean to bash on Watchmen. It probably is the greatest comic book of all time. I'm glad they made it, if only to bring a lighter, emotionless version to the screen. Now, when the inevitable remake comes along, let's hope that they make it with a little less "cool, slow-motion badassness" and a little more "gives a crap about what happens".
But something isn't right about the movie. At first, I blamed it on some of the minor issues: the cheesy soundtrack, the lousy transitions between scenes, or the awful acting of Matthew Goode (Ozymandias). However, as I was running today, listening to Alone by Heart, I realized just what was missing. It was missing heart.
My real issue with Watchmen is that I found myself not caring about any of the characters. There's no true emotion involved and it's next to impossible to care about any of the characters. Dr. Manhattan sounds depressed throughout the entire movie, Silk Spectre either pouts, wistfully soliloquizes, or runs around half naked (or naked), and Rohrshach is...well, he's Rohrshach. The Comedian is a murderous sociopath who's almost impossible to empathize with. The only character who's relatable is Nite-Owl, which provides the only character interactions that are remotely enjoyable.
I understand that the point of the movie is to portray superheroes as imperfect and flawed, but Watchmen the comic manage to do this and make you care about the characters. You care that Dr. Manhattan is detached from humanity, you care that Silk Spectre has become bitter living in the role that her mother groomed her for since early childhood, and you care that Rohrshach is...well, Rohrshach. Somehow, Zach Snyder managed to miss the entire emotional part of the story, the part that makes you care that the world is on the brink of nuclear armageddon. You don't care that someone's killing off superheroes. Hell, you kind of hope that they manage to do it in under two and half hours, just so you can escape the theatre a little earlier.
The sad thing is that there are far lesser movies that get its viewers emotionally invested in its characters. The interpretive dance that was Ang Lee's Incredible Hulk at least made you feel sorry for Eric Bana (if only for the fact that his name was attached to the movie). Horror movies make you hope that someone get's out of the haunted amusement park alive, or at least doesn't die a virgin. Hell, even The Notebook made you happy that the two old people finally died at the end.
I don't mean to bash on Watchmen. It probably is the greatest comic book of all time. I'm glad they made it, if only to bring a lighter, emotionless version to the screen. Now, when the inevitable remake comes along, let's hope that they make it with a little less "cool, slow-motion badassness" and a little more "gives a crap about what happens".
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