I’ll start by saying that I won’t be including any story-related spoilers. If you want the film spoiled, just watch it. It does a perfect job of ruining itself without me telling you that Darth Vader was Starlord’s father, or that Drax was Kaser Söze all along. However, I’ll also state that this isn’t really a review, but a reflection on what this movie means in the world of film making, and as such, it may be a little conceptual if you haven’t already seen it (if you do want a review though, how about zero out of literally pick any number).
Earlier today, I sat down on my at-work lunch break to partake in an activity more quintessentially nerdy than many others you might be able to think of: I repeatedly watched the trailers for the video game I was already playing at home (because when I fall for something, I fall hard). The game in […]
The titular question showed up from an anonymous source in my private blog, shortly after I wrote a very in offensive post about how religion perforated our language; and I’ll preface this all by saying, wow, this is the broadest of questions to me, and since I hardly knew where to start, and wound up […]
As I was strolling briskly from work one morning, I was subject to a very interesting close encounter. The phrase ‘close encounter’ has an inherent connotation of extraterrestrialism, but I assure you, what met me was far stranger. On this fair-weathered morning, I was suddenly accosted by Mormons (no, not ‘morons’ although the parallels are certainly present).
The following is a genuine recounting of a part of the Norse Mythology. There exists a poem called Lokasenna in which Loki (you know, the super sexy Tom Hiddleston from the Marvel franchise one) is hanging out and having a few drinks with some of the Æsir (gods), but is kicked out after inexplicably murdering a waiter that they were all being really nice to. After a little time away, presumably stewing in anger, Loki returned to throw down the gauntlet and show the gods some serious smack talk. All I can say is god damn, this would have livened up The Avengers movie.
What follows is a genuine account of the resulting quarrel.
Here’s a very quick (and totally true) story about pirates (you guys know that I have a huge obsessions with pirates, right?), or, to be more precise, a story about one pirate in particular. It’s a super dumb story, and you’re going to love it.
Religion has been a primary catalyst of war, genocide, murder, rape, destruction, oppression, segregation, and a million other overlapping offences during its reign over the human race; however, all of these I can forgive of religion, for one simple reason: It’s human nature, we’d do it anyway. The four horsemen of the apocalypse aren’t fictitious, they’re simply the personification of four common atrocities that have ravaged humanity since its inception two hundred thousands years ago. No, I can forgive religion of all these monstrous offences, because it’s just the convenient excuse. If we didn’t have religion, we’d inevitably think of some other scapegoat in our efforts to maim and kill and conquer one another.
However, there is one thing that I can never and will never forgive religion for (and note that I’m talking about the entirety of fundamentalist religion as a whole here; I’m not criticising any particular pious individual), and that is the promotion of an under-appreciation of the world around us; because to try and deny, forbid and oppress an understanding of the process of natural selection and evolution is throwing a tarp over the greatest masterpiece ever conceived. Continue reading
A short transcript of a conversation follows, wherein elusive billionaire Bruce Wayne takes an attractive, young lady to his bedroom.
Girl: Mister Wayne. How about we get these constricting clothes off.
Bruce: I was just about to suggest the same thing, young lady.
Girl: Oh, Mister Wayne, what a fine… wa – wait…
Girl: All those… scars. What the fuck?
Bruce: Oh, it’s just…
Girl: What the fuck!?
Bruce: I play polo, that’s all. It’s ra-
Girl: Jesus, fucking Jesus!
Bruce: -rather a dangerous sport. That’s all, don’t worry. Now, where were we…
Girl: Woah, woah. Polo? I’m not an idiot. I’m not a – a – a fucking idiot! Oh, god… you…
Bruce: I… what?
Girl: Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’re the fucking Batman, aren’t you.
So I was at work yesterday when a young kid came in with his father. He was probably about eight years old, I guess (I’m pretty terrible at estimating kids’ ages), and was dressed from head to toe in a full body Spider-Man suit. Anyway, father and son began wandering the store; the dad was […]