The Good, the Bad, and the Mediocre

Adidas Sneakers

THE GOOD: Americana hi-tops

The sneaker that started it all, and by that I mean practically the entire sneaker collector's culture. Sure, the alternating blue and red stripes might not have much relevance in this post-ABA world, but the materials are interesting and the look is great. Sneakers like these can cause you to rearrange your whole wardrobe, and might be the leading cause in fomenting the "sportsjacket and jeans" look. It's not the sneakers' fault, though! These sneakers are like part Rod Lavers, part Abdul Jabbars, and all frrrresh. Don't get caught out there in the re-issued styles in various materials and colorways, though. That is, of course, unless you are a hipster faggot in a tight t-shirt.

THE BAD: The entire Kobe Bryant series

"Here I stand, one of the most talented players in the NBA, just now reaching the apex of an already impressive career. I need a sneaker that expresses my versatility and agility; my drive and fortitude. I need a sneaker that is as nice to look at as it is functional. I know! I'll design sneakers that look like fucking Winnebagos!" Seriously, those sneakers would make nice toaster cozies. Hard to believe that this is the same guy who lags behind only Wilt Chamberlain for most points scored in a game. However, throw on a pair of muddy coveralls, grow your beard to a shaggy length, and wear these bad boys and you could easily be the guy that fools around with high school girls' private parts. Perhaps Kobe should be endorsing home pregnancy kits and prom-friendly limo companies while he's at it.

THE MEDIOCRE: Forum low-tops

The first sneakers I ever heard that got stolen from someone's feet that weren't Jordans were white-on-black Adidas Forums. The guy that stole them must have been shoeless himself, because otherwise I don't know why he bothered. Is it the strap? These sneakers are totally unremarkable and bordering on ugly. I equate people who buy sneakers like these with those that copped Reebok Pumps. You know, the guys that wore wack second edition Starter jackets with the detachable hood. The same guy that wore Charlotte Hornets and San Jose Sharks caps with differently colored bills. The very same guy that jocked House of Pain a little too hard and did the "Just Say No" rap routine at the school talent show. Later, he would gain widepsread fame for getting knocked out by iCON the Mic King at Scribble Jam 2005.

I Believe That Children Are Our Future

It occurs to me that I spend ten minutes, twice a week, updating this hysterical blog for million and billions and possibly trillions of readers, yet not one of you selfish bastards has yet to give me jack shit. I'm not bitter, though. No, it's my pleasure to entertain and inform you ingrates free of charge. Sometimes, though, I think that my off-the-cuff Judy Tenuta style of humor might obfuscate the seriousness of my more infortmative blogs. Well, make no mistake, faithful readers, this blog is very, very serious. This blog is about child handlin'.
I can't help but think of that quote that Hillary Clinton stole: "It takes a woman to birth a child, but it takes a village idiot to raise it." I can't think of a more pertinent quote for this topic, excepting maybe what Mark Twain had to say on the matter: "Familiarity breeds contempt--and children." I think we all agree that there's nothing more contemptible than children, but we have to raise them right or else they might not grow up to lead good lives and have good jobs so they can take care of us when we're older. I mean, it's not like we're getting any social security, folks. And that pension plan? Read the fine print. You've been paying dividends into a system that allows your company to sell your butt hair to science. When you retire, all you're going to be left with is a shiny ass.
Possibly the first question a new parent will ask about their baby is "When will this thing start to look like a human being?" Babies begin to look human at around four to six weeks, when they enter a phase of life known as the Buddy Hackett phase (as coined by my father). No matter what the sex or skin color, a baby always looks like Buddy Hackett for a brief time. Except, of course, for Buddy Hackett. Some scientists believe that Buddy Hackett is the prototype, a template of the Original Man from which all human life stems. These scientists are desperately underfunded, however, and are in dire need of your ass hair.
Once your baby starts looking like a human being, it will soon try to move around. Many parents' impulse is to encourage this movement because they think it will promote a healthy baby. Well, they couldn't be more wrong! By forcing your child to move and walk when it would probably rather lay around and need constant catering to may scar that child for life. S/He will grow up with a low self-esteem due to the constant pressure of performing and excelling. The child will suppress intense feelings of rage, which will manifest as temper tantrums and shopping sprees and the loud playing of music that you can't stand. In short, your child will become a high school cheerleader or jock, and nobody wants that.
After a while, though, no amount of hobbling or restrictive cage will be able to stifle your child's wanderlust, and so it is eventually time to set the little crap factory free. Many parents complain that their baby gets into the cabinets and trash and makes a mess of things, and some parents even worry that their baby wander off unsupervised and get hurt. The main culprit here, I think, is that many parents use those fashionable retractable leashes that can extend up to ten feet long. Perhaps when a boy or girl is of age--say sixteen or seventeen--they can be trusted to keep such a lengthy circumference from a parent. A baby needs boundaries, however, and so I think that for a child under seven years old, no more than two feet--three feet maximum--of leash is needed. You might feel this is cruel, but a parent has got to set a perimeter and this is one of those tough decisions. You can make it up to your young one by tastefully decorating their doghouse, perhaps with some dry straw or fresh water.
Now that we've covered leash length, the only other thing a parent needs to be concerned about is how much and what kind of television they are going to expose their children to. The answer is that the television should be on all day, and should be completely unrestricted. The television is like another father, except he doesn't drink or yell at mommy or beat the children. He sits, emotionally unavailable, beaming violence and facile garbage into the brains of millions across America, draining electric energy and your will to experiment with new things. In short, the television is your best friend. Like the kid that first swiped a Playboy from his dad and brought it to school, the television keeps your child up to date on all the real skinny, without undermining your parental credibility or wasting your precious time. Yes, television will ultimately absorb thirty to forty percent of your child's young life, which will be a great defense when s/he goes berserk and mows down a schoolyard full of children.
And that's the basics of it, folks! I hope you have found my advice helpful and informative, and if you haven't, then you're probably one of those bleeding-heart parents that believes in diapers and affection and regular feeding times. When the nuclear apocalypse happens, we'll see who fares better in the aftermath: a mollycoddled little brat that relies on its parents for everything, or a child that's tethered to a stake in the backyard and has to sleep in the rain. I think it's clear who's going to be running the show in the coming decades.

History of Hip-Hop part one

Rap music first began in 1971, when legendary DJ Kool Herc created the turntable. Before that, turntables were called "record players". He came up with the notion of charging people to hear him play vinyl records in stifling recreation rooms, which is one of the foundations of hip-hop. The other foundations are correcting your grandmother when she calls black people "the coloreds" and the movie Flashdance. But certainly without Kool Herc, hip-hop--and therefore Benzino--could have never existed.
At the same time that Kool Herc was annoying audiophiles by putting his fingers directly onto the grooves of records, other interesting cultural things were happening in New York City. Gangs would have showdowns called "war dances" where two gangs would congregate and shoot each other. When gang membership and ammunition dwindled, they began to engage in a formalized style of dance called "break dancing". The object was to see who could break more of their own bones by falling on the ground. Simultaneously, New York began to be covered in graffiti, which is an Italian word meaning "illegible writing." Young kids would write their names and the streets on which they lived on subway train cars which would carry their identity throughout the city. However, when it was discovered that revealing your name and address as part of your illegal offense is a fucking stupid thing to do, these kids began using nicknames and nom de plumes.
At this time, New York was in one of its worst fiscal crises, which was created by a curse placed on the city after the Mets won the World Series in 1969. This caused many public services and their employees to be cut or to become very lazy. Landlords in the Bronx began setting fire to their apartment buildings in order to create a frightening backdrop for Ronald Reagan's New York presidental campaign stop. The time was truly ripe for this new hip-hop culture to step up and fill in the gaps left by crappy television and music.
The first quantum leap in hip-hop took place when Grandmaster Flash wore his first sporty five-panel cap. This is why he was also known as Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. He had a protege whose name was Grandwizard Theodore who was remarkable in that he had a very stupid DJ name. One day Theodore accidentally scratched a record and realized that if he ruined records but told people it was on purpose, they would pay him and he could buy more records. He would set up his turntables and speakers in local parks and play to the bunnies and chipmunks that populated them. When his critter fanbase was large enough, he began tackling bigger venues and ultimately performed on an ambitious tour which took him through all the national parks.
Meanwhile, the worlds of graffiti and breakdancing were popular, though not as popular since they both involve you probably getting your pants dirty. Graffiti style began to expand and artists were not content with just getting their nicknames on subway cars, so they began writing long stories which no one could read. One of these stories was recently compiled and released under the title The Nanny Diaries. Breakdancing was going strong, but it suffered some setbacks when everyone in the breakdancing scene was in a body cast at the same time. They shared a room at the Lenox Hill hospital where they would try to outperform each other's moves using only their tongues. These were innocent times in hip-hop, but all that was about to change.
In 1979, a new label released a new record called "Turkish Delight" by an unknown group called The Sugar Hill Gang. Many people in the existing hip-hop community didn't like the Sugar Hill Gang because they were not from a place called Sugar Hill, as they claimed. Despite their detractors, the Sugar Hill Gang went on to sell millions of records, most of which were destroyed by Grandwizard Theodore. This proved to be a futile gesture, however, because the landscape of hip-hop changed and everyone in the scene tried to release a record. That's how we got many of our rap classics like "Honeymooners Rap" and "99 Luft Baloons". Since then, rap has become a multi-billion dollar industry and all of its originators are sitting pretty on a nice chunk of that cash. In fact, Big Bank Hank from the Sugar Hill Gang went on to become famous rapper Jay-Z.

Attendance at this meeting is mandatory

Good morning, everyone, and thanks for coming. If you will all take your seats, I'll expedite this meeting and we'll try to get it over with as soon as possible. I know it's hot in here, I'll try to be as brief as I can.
For those of you that are new to the company, welcome. My name is Claude Gusselberg and I'm the COO of Cyberdyne Systems. I like to have these company-wide meetings about once a year, just to keep you all up-to-date about how we performed in the past year, and where we'll be allocating our resources over the coming years. The reason I have this meeting is that when I was first starting out in the corporate world, I always wished that a higher-up would give me a hint of the big picture. And so that is why I have established this yearly tradition.
In a word, Cyberdyne did phenomenonally this year. We experienced growth in all of our industries, and in some cases we doubled and tripled our net earnings last year. The final numbers are not yet in, but if my projections are even half right, this will certainly be a record year for Cyberdyne, and your managers will be able to reflect that during your annual performance reviews. The number one thing that has been such a boon to our business is, of course, the war efforts in the Middle East as well as the dozen or so covert wars that are taking place in South America and Africa. In 2005, Cyberdyne became the number two munitions supplier to the world--not just the U.S. Armed Forces, but the world--just a smidgen behind our main competitor, Lockheed-Martin. Our sales force certainly had a hand in this, securing exclusive contracts with warlords in Iran and Korea, as well as continuing to supply weapons for perpetual police actions around the globe. At Cyberdyne, we treat repeat business with more respect than a giant one-time purchase from a suicidal despot or terrorist organization. And we think it is this relationship with our clients that has been the key to our success.
The main thing, however, that put us so close to the top spot is the development of an exciting new weapon that our guys in New Munitions are working around the clock on. I know you've all heard the rumors, so I'm going to put them to bed right now: we are reverse-engineering a humanoid robot based on a piece that was discovered at a sheet metal plant in Sunnyvale, California. I'm not really at liberty to divulge too many particulars about this new robot, but if things keep going as they are now, we could see the elimination of the human soldier in our lifetime. I mean these things...Bob down in New Munitions put together a prototype, looks kind of like a table with human hands for legs. This thing already broke every long jump record and it can crush a car into a piece of metal no bigger than my wallet. And despite my title around here, my wallet is not that big. Ha ha ha.
So if development on this robot continues as it has been, we could have an incredible 2006 and we should surpass Lockheed-Martin's sales handily. We believe that we will ultimately be able to program these robots to build each other, which will drastically reduce our build costs and exponentially increase our output. Ladies and gentlemen, we may live to see a future where our every need and want is provided by these tireless robots. However, for the time being, we will still have to make our own martinis. Ha ha ha.
This industry, however, does not come without some serious complications. There is the small matter of containing the miniature nuclear reactors needed to power each robot. We are also having trouble obtaining the titanium alloy necessary to make these machines. However, there is a larger problem...I know you've all read the security memo, and I want to address it here to impress upon each of you how serious the situation is. We are currently having trouble dealing with human resistance fighters from the future that are trying to undo our corporation. One of them even destroyed two months work on the epidermal matrix we need to simulate human skin. The good news is that these people from the future can be dispatched relatively easily. The bad news is that we don't know when they are going to show up or what exactly they are trying to do.
What I want to ask each of you employees--and this goes for the people at the top of the totem pole right down to the mailroom--I want to ask you to please be vigilant and alert security whenever you see one of these visitors from the future. There are a few key ways to tell if someone is from the future, for example if they emerge completely nude from a manifested ball of electricity, or if they happen to know who wins the World Series in 2007. These travelers arrive naked but will try to acquire clothing as soon as possible. If a naked person asks you for clothes, do not give it to him! Immediately call Ralph in security and he will deal with it. Do not try to apprehend or detain this person, either. These people are highly dangerous and rather icky in their naked state. Also, do not listen to their tales of a war between man and machine that resulted after a computer-created nuclear holocaust. These tales are absolutely outrageous! The computer that runs most of the world's defense systems, SkyNet, told me itself.
This matter of invaders from the future is so important to the growth of Cyberdyne, that I am offering an additional bonus for any information leading to the capture of a visitor from the future. You can earn as much as five-hundred dollars, redeemable at the company store, simply for calling security when you see a suspicious person lurking about. These visitors from the future like to wear trenchcoats and often have their hair styled in fashions from the 1980's. Look, I know it is outside of your usual job descriptions, but if you could pitch in and lend a hand now and again, it could make a world of difference.
All in all, we had a banner year in 2005 and we are looking to break that record in 2006. Thanks to everyone for their hard work, and I thank you all for coming to this meeting. Good day.

Interview with Alaska of Hangar 18

Veteran MC Alaska has been ripping mics across the country since the late 90's. One-third of the group Hangar 18 and one-eighth of the legendary rap collective Atoms Family, he's put it down in places as small as the Nuyorican Poet's Café and as large as Irving Plaza, to audiences as diverse as poetry aficionados to gutter punks on the Vans Warped Tour. He's shared stages with Sadat X, Chuck D, and just about every independent rap hero you can think of. I caught up with Alaska recently and tried to find out what's new and what his opinion is on the current state of things.

Reggie: Some big moves made in the off-season, huh? How does it feel to see the winning Red Sox team of 2004 scattered among so many other ball clubs?

Alaska: It's been a pretty eventful off-season. The team is not in as bad shape as most people think, but Larry Luccino is not necessarily good for the team. The ownership needs to step up and take away his personnel powers. He ran Theo out of town. Plus the upheaval in the front office pretty much caused Johnny Damon to walk away. I'm not saying that they should have resigned him--granted he is a great lead off hitter--but he is 35, his arm is weak and he wanted 4 to 5 years. I am saying they should have atleast been present when negotiating with such an important piece of the team. I can't blame him for walking away--and yes he is gay for going to the Yankees.
As for the '04 team, I am sad that they never had a chance to defend their title. They lost Pedro, Lowe, Cabrara (my personal favorite Sox from that year), and Dave Roberts. It would have been nice to see them stick together. This year they lost even more with Millar, Mueller, and Damon. Plus, considering the potential of a Manny trade, by next year its going to be a completely new team. If they are going to rebuild they should completely dedicate themselves to rebuilding, get rid of the high-priced veteran contracts and start with a youth movement. One good thing about Pedro going to the Mets is getting to watch him pitch every 4 or 5 days. He still is an amazing pitcher when he is in his zone and he stepped it up a notch last year.

Reggie: Pedro did do some incredible pitching at times last year, especially towards the end of the season when Randolph left him in for seven or more innings. I think a reliance on veteran contracts is something that is hurting a lot of teams in MLB. Even if they get a solid player, there's often no connect with the existing fans and so it leaves a kind of bittersweet feeling like, I'm glad my team is doing well, but who the hell is this old geezer? Still, without decent farm teams you can't expect MLB teams to cull decent young talent, and for the most part it seems like that's all happening on the East and a little in the South. Or do you think that the pool of young talent available is enough to satisfy the potential demand for new players? Do you think that the decisions to sign veterans is predicated totally on numbers or do you think marketing and fan attendance plays a part in these decisions as well?

Alaska: That's the modern era, you have to love your team and just know that chances are it will look very different every three years or so. There will always be teams that have four or so core players, but the parts are going to change year in and year out. For instance, look at the Yankees: Jeter is always going to be their face, but the rest of the team will be different. It's the free agent era. I wouldnt be suprised if, down the line, kids switch team loyalty with their favorite players. Especially with things like the internet, the MLB cable package, etc., it's easy to follow someone around the league, and you don't necessarily need to have a favorite team that's local to watch them day in and day out. I dont have a problem with players moving around and looking for better opportunities for themselves and their families--shit, you wouldnt expect your friends to stay at a job when another company offers to double their salary just because they have friends at the company, how can you expect a ball player to stay with a team when there is another club willing to pay him enough money over the next four years to secure him for life? You can't.
I dont know if a pure youth movement is the best way to go, but when you have a strong farm team you have options. You can trade for the few missing pieces in a potential championship team when you have strong prospects. Struggling teams will always trade a star now for a few potential pieces of a future championship. Why not? With free agency, you dont have the luxury of building a team that is going to be with you for 10 years.

Reggie: I think we have definitely seen baseball fandom be more player- and less team-oriented in the last decade or two, which I suppose is not a terrible thing. It means we will have to change the lyrics of "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" so that instead of root, root, rooting for the home team, we root for the most photogenic or the guy with the best stats. The pressure for budding free agents to be picked up by other teams is partially responsible, I believe, for the rampant use of steroids and other performance enhancers in baseball. If a player isn't competing to be on another team, then he might play more solidly and feel more like he is defending something more honorable than a corporate logo. At the same time, if a player's salary isn't commensurate with how they play, then they may get lazy. What's your opinion on this controversial and fascinating issue?

Alaska: Well, unlike most, I dont have a problem with 'roids in baseball. Sure, it ruins the sanctity of the game, but so does $8 beers for crying out loud. It's easy to yell that salaries are out of control and that the league isn't fair to small market teams, etc., but honestly, so fucking what? It's a free market economy. Why are we worried about the small market ball club when we don't worry about the small market coffee shop or book store? And as far as salaries are concerned, if owners can afford to pay them, then the owners must be making a shit ton more money. An owner isn't going to bankrupt his own pocket to pay a 28 year-old kid who throws 98 mph, but he'll overpay 11 million a year if he can afford it. The fans scream cause ticket prices are too high, etc. Don't fucking go. Stop supporting the team. "Then what will we do with our lives?" you ask--I dont fucking know, maybe eat dinner with your family? Perhaps go to the gym and drop the 85 pounds you put on sitting on your ass watching a bunch of overpaid fuckers. Live your own fucking life. Basically what I'm saying is: baseball ain't really that important due to the fact that people are worried more about some bullshit issues like 'roids or salaries, but cant be bothered to question this administration's motives for war because they would have to look somewhere other than espn.com to get the facts.
Dont get me wrong, I love the game. I think it is a great game, but I don't feel sorry for people who get so upset over it. At the end of the day, it's just a fucking game.

Five Movie Sequels

Well Hollywood, you were warned several times, but you didn't want to listen. I told you not to piss off Rob Schneider. I told you that he was our greatest acting resource next to that kid that was the Indian in that Harold and Kumar movie. I specifically remember predicting that, if Rob Schneider didn't receive the proper recogntion, i.e. at least one Golden Globe and two Ace Awards, that he would walk. Well, time has gone by, and where are we now? Smack dab in the middle of a blockbuster holiday movie season with Rob Schneider featured in one movie, and three more movies in production featuring the Schneidster slated to come out in 2006. Good job, Hollywood. You fucked up again.
Well, it looks like old Reggie is going to have to bail you out again with a few more of my incredible movie ideas. Seems to me that Hollywood is in such a slump right now, what with all the movies grossing tens of millions of dollars at the box office, and when new ideas are in a slump the best recourse is to revisit some old ideas and milk them for all they're worth. With that in mind, here are five movies that desperately could use a sequel.

JFK
Directed by Olver Stone
1991, color
Stone's meticulous interpretation of New Orleans' D.A. Jim Garrison's (played by Kevin Costner) quest for truth re-opened the JFK case for the umpteenth time and proved to everyone that watched it that Joe Pesci looks like a creep, fake eyebrows or no. Why Stone stopped there he did is a mystery to me, as he could have easily added ten more hours to this engrossing and hypnotic film. However, this oversight can easily be remedied by producing a spate of sequels depicting several possible futures after Costner loses his case against Clay "Tommy Lee Jones" Shaw in the movie. What if Costner becomes a gun-toting crusader for justice a la Charles Bronson in every movie Bronson's ever been in? Or maybe JFK can come back from the dead and kill a bunch of michievous teenagers staying at an abandoned summer camp. The possibilities with this movie are endless, as far as I am concerned, and we should limit ourselves to the linear--and frankly, boring--story that actually did unfold after John F. Kennedy's death, which apparently involved some kind of war and the popularization of fondue cheese. Forget that nonsense. I say turn Kennedy's presidential limo into a flying saucer and have him assault the earth with his terrifying axle lasers. Suddenly, Lee Harvey Oswald is a hero.

Overboard
Directed by Garry Marshall
1987, color
You'd think a television genius like Garry Marshall (Happy Days, Laverne & Shirley, Joanie Loves Chachi) would understand the sequential potential of this movie. This riches-to-rags story about a haughty heiress played by Goldie Hawn that bumps her head and is led to believe that she's married to the roughneck with the feathered hairdo, Kurt Russell, and suffers the indignity of having to live a middle-class existence which she eventually embraces. At the end of the movie, you're likely to be beating your hands together and demanding "More! More!" and that's exactly what we should give them. As with all of my ideas, I come up with the title first: Overboard 2: Even More Overboard, and this time, instead of Goldie Hawn thinking that she's supposed to be married to a lowly handy man, Kurt Russell bumps his head and is made to think that he's a Hoover vaccuum cleaner. At first, Goldie has fun using Kurt as a cleaning device and enjoys that he stays home with her more often, but as time goes on she learns that a Hoover vaccuum cleaner is no replacement for love, no matter how many attachments it's got. Will Goldie come clean about having duped her husband or will Kurt be made to spend the rest of his life sucking cereal crumbs from between the cracks in the kitchen's linoleum? Depends on how much money you can line up for part three.

Mazes and Monsters
Directed by Steven Hillard Stern
1982, color
Tom Hanks was just a fledgling actor when he starred in this made-for-TV movie depicting the dangers of Dungeons & Dragons addiction and stumbling around in an abandoned cave at night with a wizard's robe on. At the end of the movie, Tom Hanks' character is irrevocably warped and he stays at a countryside institution where he still thinks he's "living" the game. I think a sequel to this movie can and should be made, from Tom Hanks' perspective. Thusly, all of the regular people and familiar landmarks turn into monsters and castles, and the character commits several brutal murders and acts of vandalism and arson before the police wrap his babbling body in a straight jacket and haul him off to the looney bin. This would be a great place to use new CGI special effects, and if it is rushed to production now, the movie might come out at the same time of the imminent Dungeons & Dragons revival of which we have been on the cusp for over fifteen years now. But it's coming, D&D will be popular again. I just know it. That's why I never travel without my twenty-sided die.

Birth of a Nation
Directed by D. W. Griffith
1915, black & white
This twelve-reel turn of the century masterpiece that resurrected the Ku Klux Klan in America depicts, among other things, a group of hooded superheroes on horseback that rescue a fair-haired damsel in distress from the clutches of a amorous (and therefore, violent) negro. At the end of the movie, they sit triumphant on their horses, vanguards for purity and righteousness for all melanin deficient peoples. If you're lucky or patient or racist enough to have seen this film, then you're probably thinking the same thing I am: and then what happened? I think this movie could be spun off into a series of movies and possibly some television tie-ins. A quick check of the internet shows that there's loads of FanFic on this subject, so the audience is already built in. Borrowing from the epic storyline put forth by George Lucas in Star Wars, the sequel should be like The Empire Strikes Back where the negroes collude and rise up against the white-garbed Klansmen so they can be free to do what they want to do, which is apparently to rape white women. After this, the possibilities are endless, with both sides vying for power over something that is not really worth the fight. A great set-up for spin-offs and side stories, too.

The Last of the Mohicans
Michael Mann
1992, color
This movie is about a white scout and his two Native brothers leading a British Colonel's daughter through hostile territory during the French-Indian War. What this movie needs more than a sequel, I think, is a prequel, a story to tell of the times before the French and Indians came to America and the Natives lived in peace and harmony. Picture long shots of Natives standing around herds of bison and making sure the corn is growing okay. Conflict arises in the movie when one Native believes that his moccasins were stolen by a child from the tribe, but after much smoking of the peace pipe and the presentation of new moccasins, all is well. There is an apparent love interest between Runs With Feathers and an unnamed girl that is betrothed to him for an assortment of beads and wampum. I haven't really fleshed out all the story details of this movie yet, but I do think it should run at least six hours with no intermission.

The Good, the Bad, and the Mediocre

Holiday Candies

THE GOOD: Hannukah Gelt

This one is pretty much a no-brainer. It's chocolate; these things could be swastikas and they would still taste great. Usually, Hannukah gelt is made with a super-sweet milk chocolate that makes your teeth hurt just to think about it. I guess that's why they get parceled in little foil coins--if a kid got his hands on an Easter Bunny's worth of this stuff, it would probably cause his heart to explode. There isn't much documentation on the Hannukah gelt black market, wherein Jewish kids trade their gelt with Christian kids for their Christmas presents or services. But it's happening, people, and ignoring the problem isn't going to make it go away. How many more little girls must be coerced into playing Doctor for a few measly slivers of chocolate? Make the change, and make Jewish chocolate coinage your holiday candy of choice, no matter what stupid religion you subscribe to.

THE BAD: Candy Corn

Those fatcat nostalgia-peddlers on Fifth Avenue would have you believe otherwise, but candy corn is pure poison. Don't believe me? Down a handful of those suckers and then enjoy your stomach's muscular rebellion. Everyone thinks they like candy corn, and everyone thinks they can eat tonnage quantities of the stuff, but the fact is that more than five pieces of candy corn consumed in one sitting is equal to eating a tablespoon of hot, molten lava and chasing it with a Zima. Sometimes, at a Halloween party, you'll see a sugary frosted cake with candy corn decorations on it! This is like sprinkling cocaine with a little crack to give it some "kick". Next Halloween, instead of candy corn, give out something that's a little easier on kids' stomachs. Like maybe an apple with a razor blade in it.

THE MEDIOCRE: Marshmallow Peeps

It is said that when Lewis and Clark made their famous, arduous expedition into America's Heartland, they brought with them tools, hardtack, and marshmallow peeps. You can throw these things in the back of a drawer for decades and they'll still be edible. In fact, I think my parents gave me the same box of marshmallow peeps every Easter when I was a kid. I wouldn't have known because I never eat that stuff. In more recent years, marshmallow peeps have branched out into other holidays, like marshmallow skeletons for Halloween and marshmallow shamrocks for St. Patrick's Day. As far as I am concerned, this is a clear violation of the unwritten Holiday Candy Law. You don't see Valentine's Day chocolate assortments being given out for Arbor Day, do you? Or candy canes dispensed on Thanksgiving? Know your role, marshmallow peeps, and stay in your lane. Because if Hannukah gelt ever gets the idea to muscle in on your holiday, you're going to be one out-of-work bit of sugared fluff.

A Visit From Jay Gloss

T'was two weeks after Christmas,
when all through our homes
Not a blogger was stirring, not even Gentle Jones;
The harddrives hummed and the monitors glowed,
In hopes that a holiday blog soon would be shown.
The children were anxious, too impatient to speak,
And still reeling from hangover effects of last week;
And my stuffed bunny in place, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window, like a flash I flew,
Tore down the blinds and punched my fist through.
The moon on the face of the new-fallen glass
Made me forget how badly my hands had been slashed,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a Jason Gloss in a hoodie, with a six-pack of beer,
With a serious expression, so full of rue,
I knew in a moment that my deadline was due.
He brought some folks to enforce the deadline with pain,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now STENNET! now HOPELESS! now BEHEMOTH and HASENFEFER!
On TERRORS! on SMITHEE! on FOJAR and MINDBENDER!
To the top of the porch! now bust down the door!
And keep pummeling Reggie until you break through the floor!"
As freight trains barrel on at impossible speeds,
When they meet with an obstacle, blast into smithereens,
So up to the doorway, the muscle they flew,
With brass knuckles and pipes, and Jason Gloss too.
And then, in a twinkling, a bright plan did form,
And it began with me shutting and locking the door.
They pummeled and pounded, with screams and with shouts,
But I just watched through the window and stuck my tongue out.
The mob was quite angry, by now thirsty for blood,
I jeered at them until, to my rear, heard a thud;
And there was Jay Gloss, about to blow up his stack,
See, I'd locked the front door but forgot about the back.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
He punched me in the nose until it swelled up like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up in a sneer,
And I could smell on his breath that he had finished that beer;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his palm,
And brought it down on my shoulder 'til I could not feel my arm;
He had a devestating jab, got in a few uppercuts
And cemented the deal by kicking me in the nuts
My pain brought him pleasure, a right jolly old elf,
He let in the mob, quite pleased with himself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had a whole lot to dread;
He spoke not a word, just walked towards the street,
While behind him the goons just continued to beat,
And after I lay prostrate, limbs in every direction,
I was given a laptop; with a wireless connection
Gloss came within an inch of my face, his lips quivered and puckered,
He grabbed a clump of my hair and said, "Now write, motherfucker,".
As I tapped away at the keyboard, the crew left with a warn,
"UPDATE YOUR BLOG--AND DONATE TO PHILAFLAVA DOT COM!"