Welcome to the musings and notes of a Cadillac, Michigan based writer named Micah Holmquist, who is bothered by his own sarcasm.
Please send him email at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Micah would appreciate it if you purchased items from Teaberry's Shop.
They'd give us the tale of an
organized crime figure that does not have a soft spot for the children in his
family. He doesn't like his son, his daughter or any of his nieces and nephews.
And then there are his Godchildren. Man, he hates them with a fire that knows
no end. When one of them was getting confirmed, he didn't even show up at the
Till just recently I was making fun of those people who were attempting to debunk The Da Vinci Code -hey, did you know that Metropolis isn’t even a major city or that there is no historical record of Huck Finn having any “adventures”?- but then Tuesday I talked with someone who wanted to cite the book as a work of non-fiction.
How is it possible to have a serious conversation with such people?
Films like Seabiscuit (Gary Ross, 2003) and Cinderella Man (Opie, 2005) have clearly correctly taught me that the only reason every person in the United States of America who wasn't wealthy didn't commit suicide is the example of inspiring figures from the world of sports.
What I would like to see, however, are the would be sports heroes who failed the test. I want the African American bowler who could have struck a blow for equality but wasn't very good and thus discouraged support for the civil rights movement. Where is the boxer who refused induction and then when he finally returned to the sport, lost every fight, never regaining the WBC super light featherweight title again. And who could forget the story of the twelve year old blackjack prodigy from Rhode Island who lost to her Soviet counterpart in the late 1970s and convinced good, God fearing, patriotic United Statesians that maybe their country sucked and that the hostages would remain in Iran till Christ came to smite them with His holy hammer and sickle.
These bits of fact aren't something of pride. They don't make us feel good about our place in the world, but they are true and cinema needs to start telling the whole story of these men and women who did irreparable damage to America by trying to be heroes they were not good enough to be.
If you’re like me the 1933 King Kong (Merian C. Cooper and Ernest B. Schoedsack) wasn’t racist enough and this film improves on that. Sure it would have been nice for a good 30 or 40 minutes of really dark skinned brutal savage bloody thirsty murderous killer darkey savages who do nothing for the plot that could not easily have been written around, instead of what just seemed like 30 or 40 minutes of evidence for genocide and slavery, but I guess that’s what director’s cuts are for.
And the ending is positively uplifting. The U.S. military kills the dumb stupid killer ape who wasn't a good slave like even the darkeys might have had a chance to be if America had sent enough guns, ships and soldiers to get them all. Anybody who didn’t feel good about this positive portrayal of those who keep us free or who even sympathized with "King Kong" –I somehow doubt that is his Christian name- are nothing but little Howard Deans. They are disgusting. You cannot support the troops if you do not support their mission and here they had the ever so important job of killing the so-called King who probably working for Osama or Hugo.
Furthermore the troops were protecting family values. If left to their own devices Ann Darrow (Naomi Watts), Jack Driscoll (Adrien Brody) and Kong clearly would have engaged in a polyamorous relationship. Darrow could dance and Driscoll would write while Kong breathed. Sure Driscoll and Kong would have tensions at first, but in the end I’m sure they would have come to an understanding and, one way or another, Kong would have improved Driscoll’s lame comedies. The whole thing would simply be disgusting and would destroy marriages. They had to be stopped.
After the brave soldiers had killed Kong, the movie shows a picture of them smiling beside the body of the dead monster. They had every right to be proud, just as we have every right to be proud of living in a country where the military can kill King Kong.
Yes, they have. Yes they have! Oh God please forgive us, they so fucking have! Everybody knows that. The real question is, what would they have to do in order to go the right amount? By my estimation, it would mean countless films explicitly glorifying American soldiers. These little pictures that merely say that violence is necessary to defeat evil are not enough. It would mean countless films that honor the nuclear family and chastity, not the usual crop of movies that suggest that a woman who sleeps around can find happiness and love even when she is fat and old. In fact, it would mean at least 11 films that clearly get across the message that if you are an old, fat and slutty woman, your life is ruined. And, most importantly, it would mean films showing the Christlike qualities of President Ronald Reagan and President George W. Bush.