Evening children, welcome to Clippings & Scribblings, a news entry with editorials. I’m Sketch E. Whiteface, and I’m an alcoholic… err, close enough.
In the musical metallurgy realm, if not already aware, the masked nine-piece band Slipknot is back and with full force with a new album dubbed “All Hope Is Gone” coming out this Tuesday. The band started performing for the first time in nearly two years in July on the Rockstar Mayhem Festival tour with Disturbed, Dragonforce and Mastodon. I attended the show in Mansfield, MA and breathed chaos from the energy exhumed, it was pure gold. If you’ve been keeping track of the tour or the band you would know that Slipknot’s DJ, Sid “0″ Wilson, had injured himself during on of the shows. In the body of their set he jumped off one of the raised platforms and broke both his ankles. Whereas some would put off the rest of the tour they marched on through and Sid was confined to a wheelchair until healed properly. They’ve gone through much worse injuries (especially Wilson), such as concussions, severe burns, lacerations and other often life-threatening bumps. However recently they’ve acquire a rather large set-back, an issued statement from the band apologized for the fact they will have to cut their appearances at the Reading & Leeds Festival in England and their European tour due to drummer Joey “1″ Jordison broke his ankle. Apart from canceling of a tour they subsequently had to cancel several appearances in light of the incident.
In other unfortunate news for entertainers canceling things, the highly anticipated “Ghostbusters” video game expected to be released this October is CANCELED. I’ll give you a few moments to finish crying and throwing your computer chair out the window. Activision was due to be the distributor behind the cult classic based game but dropped it and several other titles. While franchise games such as “Crash Bandicoot” and “Spyro” where sold to Activision by Vivendi Games the interactive sequel to an iconic film series was left in the dust. However all hope is not gone for this game for the developers are searching for someone to release it and have assured fans that it will be released. Now on the commentary for this: are you fucking kidding me? You pass up something that’s existed for 25 years to something that’s been around only 10 aimed solely at kids? And keep in mind, the “Ghostbusters” game features the original cast and was penned by Reitman, Aykroyd and Ramis. This is more or less the sequel everyone’s been hoping for and courtesy of schmucks with calculators it’s left out in the desert with a canteen and a compass.
And now for more theoretical blabberings. Last weekend the nerd orgasm known as “The Dark Knight” was taken over at the box office by Ben Stiller comedy “Tropic Thunder“. However as it lowered to the number two spot it also arised to the number two spot at the all-time box office having earned $475 million dollars passing “Star Wars: A New Hope” and settling just under “Titanic” which holds the record at $600 million (for some reason.) Currently on IMDb.com the Christopher Nolan directed comic-book movie is holding it’s place at #3 on the top 250 highest rated movies, and also broke the record for being #1 after only two days of it’s release. Since the weekend prior it made it’s box office jump by a good $40 million and this fan has a strong belief that it will knock the boat over. I plan to toss another seven bucks into the pot this weekend and I strongly encourage you to do the same. One more hill to get over, people. Come on.
A portion of that song references a classic Three Stooges bit of which I knew nothing! I didn’t grow up in a household that really appreciated The Three Stooges, and so was never really exposed to some of the comedic gems they were responsible for creating.
Here, for your enjoyment, is a short bit of theirs which is titled (on the YouTube page where I found it) “Slowly I Turned”. Or perhaps more appropriately… Niagra Falls!
Perusing through my feeds this morning, as I am wont to do, I discovered a blurb in Wired’s The Underwire about the whole MST3K crew putting in an appearance at this year’s Comic Con! Not only that, but they plan to do a live Rifftrax session of Plan 9 From Outer Space as well.
Then the part that really grabbed me (because I can’t attend Comic Con this year), the announcement of an MST3K boxed set! SQEEEE! It’s currently up for pre-order on Amazon, with a listed release date of October 28th of this year. According to the Underwire article, legal issues have prevented Shout Factory from releasing the list of episodes that will be available in this set. With 4 discs in the set, my hope is they get as many as possible or at least all the ones not covered by the currently available DVD collections.
I’m hoping for Sidehackers, some of the Godzilla movies, Castle of Fu-Manchu (which I own a copy of in non-MST3K format), and Time Chasers. (”Wheee we’re getting poison sumac wheeee!”)
Burning Questions:
What episodes are your favorites?
Joel or Mike Nelson?
Tom or Crow?
The Doctor or Pearl?
TV’s Frank?
Tales written for discerning young ladies with a keen admiration of the manliness of the male half of the species, this volume deals with heart-pounding tales of men performing stunning feats of self-surgery and suffering such injuries as would surely destroy men of lesser manliness. Yet never fear! For these manly men always get the better of every trial and tribulation that comes their way! Read on for more exciting stories of the manliness of men!
Mark was a willowy, handsome young lad, with shoulder length flaxen hair which he brushed into his pale, rosy-cheeked face often to cover his sparkling, glassy blue eyes in impish defiance of social mores.
One fine summer’s day he sat on his back porch, clad in his favorite jean shorts. This in and of itself was nothing significant. Yet the story behind his reason for sitting thus when there was action, adventure and, yes, even danger to be had out in the wide world is indeed a stirring tale.
Being as clever and crafty as he was, Mark had made these shorts himself when his favorite pants finally ripped so significantly that his girlfriend at the time had insisted with the venom only a lifelong student of modern fashions could that he do away with them. Yet young Mark would not be denied pants so well-worn that they had become something akin to a companion. Indeed, many was the week which had passed without him parting with them long enough even to wash them. He simply couldn’t bear to part with these pants! No, this was a man of deep concerns in his life who simply would not give up the familiar comforts of the threadbare pockets, nor the subtle sophistication which came with the various inked designs which turned the faded denim into a black and blue patina which echoed his triumphant past’s loves, hopes, and outstanding feats of stunning bravery. It was as grave a sin as asking an honored crusader to part with the finely wrought chain mail which had saved him from savage and ignominious death through countless battles with fierce and pitiless Moors and Turks!
So passionate had our young Mark been when confronted with the possibility of losing this treasure, he had snatched up a sizable blade from the kitchen counter in heated desire for swift yet just resolution to this disgraceful feud between aesthetic schools of thought, and with such fervor did he hack away at the offending lower portion of his beloved jeans that it caused him several injuries. Indeed, he was not mindful of such lacerations! An impassioned and bold man such as this could have no room for outward manifestations of pain when there was a battle of wit and craft at hand.
So deep was his anguish at the mutilation of this jewel of his possessions that he hurled the remnants of the pants - along with the now crimson-stained blade - as far as his slim, tight-muscled arms could manage with a pained howl escaping his chest. Regrettably his then-girlfriend hadn’t the presence of mind to clear herself from the path of the flying objects, and suffered a nasty shock as sharpened metal pierced the drywall beside her head.
What woman can understand the true nature of such manly displays, when the depth of feeling must manifest itself in a true man’s course of action? Few can, and alas this was the last he ever saw of or heard from that young lady. Indeed, though he had won a victory over an intractable situation, she simply couldn’t understand the depth of his sincere heartbreak, nor his truer, sentimental nature. In his woeful mourning over losing both his love interest and a significant portion of his most treasured pants, he neglected to care for himself and the injuries he sustained during the confrontation.
As a result, he found himself sitting on the back porch of his home in a grim and pensive state. He had moments before prepared himself for the task which lay before him in that golden afternoon. The slanting sunlight pierced the smoky air around him and cast a beam better than a surgeon’s lamp on the site of his concern. One of the the wounds he had sustained during his heart wrenching episode of confrontational tailoring had taken a turn for the worse. Such a strong believer in independence was he that Mark was not employed and could not provide the sum necessary to visit a trained medical professional. Nor did he believe in such ridiculousness. As a true student of manliness he felt strongly that anything which could be accomplished by his own hand should be! Oft was he praised for such, and oft chided by those who did not understand. Nevertheless he was prepared for the task ahead of him. His anesthetic of choice was taking hold, calming him adequately for the work ahead.
The wound in question was a clean slice whose depth had allowed all manner of dirt in, and despite having been liberally (albeit indirectly and not deliberately) splashed with cleansing alcohol during the last two weeks it was now a very angry shade of red. The protective layer of dried blood was flecked with dirt and a clear fluid leaked from beneath it with only the slightest pressure. If it was painful to look at, it was surely more painful to actually have and feel, yet young Mark showed no pain or fear. With a trusty pocket knife in hand, he paused only once to take a deep breath and hold it in before exhaling in a great rush. A sagely expression came over him, making his heavy-lidded eyes seem cloudy and distant. With a dazzling quickness he sliced open the hardened surface of his grave injury and Oh! what happened then! A rush of milky fluid rushed forth, gleaming wetly under the light of the afternoon sun. Unfazed by such Mark quickly wiped it away and proceeded to squeeze with the all the somber detachment of a true warrior. Once the rupture in his smooth skin was running with the pure crimson of a clean cut, he wiped his hands off on the comforting cloth of his shortened jeans and simply sat. Clearly this quiet contemplation was his way of cleansing his spirit as well as the site of his bodily harm.
His phone rang and with all the unhurried grace of a seasoned general, Mark reached in his pocket, saw that the name on the phone simply said “Cunty Whore That Dumped Me” and thumbed the silencer with unperturbed ease.
This concludes our first installment of Heart-Pounding Tales of The Manliness of Men Vol. 1: Wound and Infection Treatment Stories! Won’t you join us next time for more thrilling, fascinating and stirring tales of manly men and their aplomb in the face of mortal wounding and dire infections?
It’s really fun to see someone take a silly experiment and launch it to the next level, a silly experiment with wide recognition. Of course, with Stephen Colbert’s huge popularity these days, is it really any wonder that a Twitter account that was updated with some regularity would get noticed?
As noted in the Fake Stephen’s article, there was already an @stephencolbert when Fake Stephen went to register. However, that person had updated very infrequently, and had stopped updating a very long time ago overall. Even though @stephencolbert had 10,000, without updates it was just another idle account. When I checked earlier tonight, Fake Stephen’s account, @stephentcolbert only had 5,000 followers. Yet it was this account that hit the front page of Digg and got called out by Comedy Central themselves. Proof that one of the keys to recognition within a social environment is to be social! (Duh.)
I kind of hope that Fake Stephen carries on in some way, shape or form. It might be a nice addition to the pantheon of other Fakes out there. Like Fake Steve Jobs.
Hilarious, low budget short film that’s part of a YouTube contest called Sketchies. It’s a second round entry and these guys are pretty polished. Additionally, I lol’d! Visit the creators at Last-Pictures.com.
If you liked this, and you haven’t seen them yet, check out The Lonely Island. Episode 1 nearly made me choke laughing. I found out about The Lonely Island the same day I first visited TorsoPants. There’s an easter egg (one of many) somewhere on the site linking to it, I can’t remember where it is, so you’ll have to find it yourself.
I’d be interested to see how this test really works. I should check my log files for some kind of crawler. The results came back surprisingly fast, given the amount of pages here (especially when you take into account the tags and categories). I’m inclined to say that this percentage is probably fairly accurate, but I strongly question the method by which the data was obtained.
I mean, what exactly constitutes cussing? Which words count? There is of course Carlin’s Seven Words You Can’t Say on Television, but there are so many other words that are considered cuss words by various groups of people.
Oh well. Point is, we here at RKNet aren’t afraid to fuckin’ curse once in a while when we damn well feel like it. Without further ado, I give you Carlin’s 7 Words. 10 minutes of unabashed linguistic analysis.
In recent years there has become almost a tradition of graphic novels and comics being converted into amazing movies. Spiderman, Road to Perdition, Sin City, 30 Days of Night, and of course Batman.
A while back I saw a film called Faust: Love of the Damned. I could go on and on about my impression of the film. Indeed, I found myself lying awake, babbling in a stunned fashion over what I’d encountered. Truth be told I wish I remembered half my commentary. The movie is realy a comedy goldmine for those who enjoy a MST3K the Home Game viewing experience. For those who feel as though they are brave enough to bear witness to the whole thing, I feel obligated to give you a taste of what you’re prepared for.
The Good:
This film makes no qualms about what it is and compensates fairly adequately by including several non-disturbing shots that feature (very nice) breasts.
It features cops being sliced, beheaded, dismembered, and otherwise mutilated.*
This film offers just about every kind of death you can think of: poisoning, fire, being eaten by a monster, head blown off, head cut off, guts spilled, buried alive, and death by curse.
The male protagonist has an entertaining Renfield vibe at the beginning of the film.
The Bad:
This film makes no qualms about what it is and includes several disturbing shots that include breasts, ruining the bonus points that breast shots ordinarily give to a film.
It features cops being sliced, beheaded, dismembered, and otherwise mutilated.*
Poorly researched psychology references riddle the film like cancer through a lab rat.
Even more poorly researched occult references. I’m no expert but man some of this stuff would make a teenage wicca fanatic shake their head shame of the inaccuracy.
The male protagonist turns into some kind of cheese-tastic Spawn/The Mask/Wolverine mashup.
Female protagonist gets brainwashed into a nympho by being beaten, electrocuted, and forced to confront her past, but the actress clearly doesn’t ever get nude. (This seems like a cop-out compared to the fearlessness of her castmates.)
The OH MY GOD MY MIND IS BEING VIOLATED! (OMGMMIBV!):
This film makes no qualms about what it is and includes a scene with disturbing special-effect breasts.
Suggested rape of an eleven year old girl by a guy with no face.
*I realize that people are divided on the treatment of police, real or fictional, so I am willing to count this aspect both good and bad as it relates to one’s personal perspective on the matter. I should like to clarify that for the purpose of this story it does appear that all the police are apparently a part of some evil conspiracy.
Thanks to the hard work of io9’s Annalee Newitz, I’m able to point you in the direction of one of the more OMGMMIBV! clips. It’s NSFW, and it’s epic as hell.
In this comedy created in 2000, Dylan Moran is head writer and star. (He’s David from Shaun of the Dead for those keeping score at home.) He plays Bernard Black, the sour, selfish, alcoholic, chain smoking owner of Black Books. The series centers around him, the shop, and his two friends: Fran and Manny. Although the term friends is used rather loosely, as Bernard spends a great deal of his time berating and taking advantage of his companions. In the clips above we get introduced to the characters, get to see a bit of Moran’s stand up, and then it’s off on another adventure!
Moran is brilliant as Bernard Black. It’s really a lot of fun to watch him swing deftly from bitterly insulting to confused to spot-on witty so swiftly and so naturally. The rest of the cast works so well with him that it is easily one of the best comedies I’ve ever seen.
If you aren’t laughing then you really need to get your glands checked, make sure it’s not lockjaw, something. The only think I feel compelled to warn you about is that there may not be enough to satisfy. The show only ran three seasons of six episodes each. Channel 4 does have a forum up where you can complain but given the rumors it’s unlikely that the cast will return for more.
Some kids play in the sandbox. We play in the.... litterbox??? The RKNet staff is pleased that you decided to stop by. Currently this is a multi-author project, with a rotating cast of totally kooky characters. Contact giania [at symbol] gmail [dot] com if you'd like to play here too.
