Ravis: June 2008 Archives
I don't know what it is about ShamWow shiller Vince that makes me like him. He's not an overly slick or polished pitchman, but he's not some schlep who wandered in off the street on the day they decided to shoot the not-quite-infomercial, either. He's obviously been selected because he fits some middle-aged executive wannabe's idea of "hip." Look, he's almost got a faux-hawk! Actually, he looks a bit like a dirty blonde Johnny Knoxville who knows that if he shows a little too much personality during this particular community-service gig, they'll stop giving him hours and start giving him jail time. Still, he can't help himself - he's gotta smarm it up just a bit.
Maybe that's exactly what it is about Vince that makes him so much more interesting to me than the average criminally overenthusiastic, set-chomping cut-rate product pusher. He just seems like a guy who knows he's got a cheesy job, but has discovered he has a little charming talent for it, so what the hell? He'll do the job, cash the check and be able to laugh about the whole thing at the bar, instead of leaving or picking a fight when somebody wants to buy the ShamWow guy a shot and a "wooooooooooo!"
I'm good for a round, Vince - whatever you want. And the "woooooooooo!" is completely optional.
Maybe that's exactly what it is about Vince that makes him so much more interesting to me than the average criminally overenthusiastic, set-chomping cut-rate product pusher. He just seems like a guy who knows he's got a cheesy job, but has discovered he has a little charming talent for it, so what the hell? He'll do the job, cash the check and be able to laugh about the whole thing at the bar, instead of leaving or picking a fight when somebody wants to buy the ShamWow guy a shot and a "wooooooooooo!"
I'm good for a round, Vince - whatever you want. And the "woooooooooo!" is completely optional.
The Bitter, Aging Hipster is nearing 40. He no longer enjoys the
lavish attentions of the music, film and energy drink industries. (He
actually thinks the energy drink industry has something to do with
magic, or voodoo, or some shit.) But despite his anger at the
unavoidable realization that he's no longer ad candy, the B,AH feels he
has wisdom to pass on to the next generation of vapid, trendy,
self-absorbed teens and twentysomethings who express their
individuality by firmly entrenching themselves within a uniform group
of like-minded kids who somehow still think they're all alone and
misunderstood in the big bad world. So, every week, he answers two
made-up questions about Living In The Mainstream While Still Pretending
To Be Original with warmth, understanding and love. Except without
those three things.Dear B, AH,
Obviously, you like old shit, and hate new shit. I like some old shit that somehow stays cool (or becomes cool again) myself. But isn't it weird how some old shit that stays cool is actually cool, and some of it just completely sucks and should've died a painful death and stayed buried? I mean, what the hell's up with Teen Wolf? Why do 21-year-olds like me even know Teen Wolf? A-Team good. Teen Wolf bad. So who decides what deserves to be remembered or even loved? Is there a mathematical formula? It seems too random. But seriously, Teen Wolf sucks. Miami Vice too.
Anachronistic Anarchist
Dear AA (shudder),
Continue reading Ask The Bitter, Aging Hipster: '80s Treats, So-Called Meats.
Yeah, I'm still totally watching this crap, if only because the very first episode wasn't half bad, as far as cliche-dependent, gore-eschewing watered-down-for-TV horror dreck goes. The Eric Roberts episode was 'meh,' and I missed it last week (I was working on a final mix for the new Nessie EP - coming soon!), but this week's John Landis-directed episode provided me with a diverting round of Guess The Twist that lasted all of about, oh, seven minutes or so.Oh, John Landis. Has it really been 27 years since An American Werewolf in London, and 16 since Innocent Blood? And have you really spent that time directing episodes of Dream On and Psych? I was going to completely rationalize away any fault of yours with regard to your transparent installment. I was going to blame it on the bad actors reciting the hackneyed dialogue by the guy who wrote Jeepers Creepers. I was assuming you were saddled with inferior material and questionable talent. But you not only know that mugging human scenery-chainsaw from USA or TBS or whatever, you've worked with him!
The creepy-funny closeups of the children at the beginning were great, trademarked Landis touches. So was the screaming little girl running through the bride's tense-instrospection scene. But, honestly, this is the worst Fear Itself I've seen yet, and it came from the director of some of my favorite comedy and horror flicks. What's wrong with "In Sickness and in Health" is what's wrong with pretty much all American horror these days - it coasts on tired tropes. It assumes it can't show us anything new, and doesn't bother to try. Hell, it doesn't even bother to make fun of the stereotypes, something at which Landis used to subtly excel.
Becks is fairly addicted to A&E's Intervention, the compelling/depressing/sometimes uplifting/always arguably exploitative reality series in which real people suffering real holy-God-wow levels of addiction hit bottom for the cameras before getting blindsided with a treatment-or-shunnage ultimatum by their family and friends.
(I don't mean to be harsh - that's pretty much the definition of an intervention in the first place.)
For me, watching the show is always a surprisingly uncomfortable experience. It's like being on stage at your high school graduation, and the kid three names in front of you goes into a full-blown epileptic seizure right when the diploma hits the hand.
It also inspires this weird inner vacillation between wondering about my own drinking, and feeling totally fine about it because, you know, I don't see myself throwing up blood while sobbing (on camera!) shortly after threatening my mother with a broken bottle during a "discussion" about how infrequently I clean the part of the laundry room where I sleep (again, on camera!) anytime soon. Then again, I have thrown up on camera, and ruined the odd shitty job or casual friendship due to hangover or weakened brain-face filter.
What Intervention needs is a watch-along checklist, a rundown of the show's most commonly recurring indicators that those of us viewing the program at home might've progressed beyond the realm of "occasionally problematic lifestyle" and into "we went ahead and ordered the tombstone with this year's date on it." And here it is, after the jump:
(I don't mean to be harsh - that's pretty much the definition of an intervention in the first place.)
For me, watching the show is always a surprisingly uncomfortable experience. It's like being on stage at your high school graduation, and the kid three names in front of you goes into a full-blown epileptic seizure right when the diploma hits the hand.
It also inspires this weird inner vacillation between wondering about my own drinking, and feeling totally fine about it because, you know, I don't see myself throwing up blood while sobbing (on camera!) shortly after threatening my mother with a broken bottle during a "discussion" about how infrequently I clean the part of the laundry room where I sleep (again, on camera!) anytime soon. Then again, I have thrown up on camera, and ruined the odd shitty job or casual friendship due to hangover or weakened brain-face filter.
What Intervention needs is a watch-along checklist, a rundown of the show's most commonly recurring indicators that those of us viewing the program at home might've progressed beyond the realm of "occasionally problematic lifestyle" and into "we went ahead and ordered the tombstone with this year's date on it." And here it is, after the jump:
Continue reading A&E's Intervention: That's Not Me, Is It? Naw, That's Not Me..
So, yeah, it's been almost exactly a month since I dropped by here and did my part to make the digital universe just a little bit brighter. I'd love to say that I've been spoon-feeding the great white sharks of the Great Barrier Reef, or getting halfway through that book about a revenge road trip that's been rolling around my brain for the better part of a year, or "helping" a couple of exotic dancers who look like but aren't twins through their Daddy issues.
But basically, I've been working a new gig, and worrying about my mom. (Looks like she's going to be ok by the way, thanks.) The job is very word-intensive; plus, it involves posting and commenting on news items, and yadda yadda come home and do the same blah blah blah.
(I did find time to cover one of my Telecasters with duct tape, though -- hey, I was bored.)
But basically, I've been working a new gig, and worrying about my mom. (Looks like she's going to be ok by the way, thanks.) The job is very word-intensive; plus, it involves posting and commenting on news items, and yadda yadda come home and do the same blah blah blah.
(I did find time to cover one of my Telecasters with duct tape, though -- hey, I was bored.)
Continue reading The Time, She Do Get Away from Ye.
