Hope You All Had A Great Memorial Day

Steve Perry should be back from Louisiana today, so you guys probably won't have to look at that full urinal bag at the top of his blog much longer. Unfortunately, his colostomy bag is probably next in line...

Lately this whole undead thing is getting a little out of hand....

I’m getting sick to death of the zombie deluge that’s happening these days. Does that sound strange coming from me? I can’t help it. The latest trend in Hollywood “Undead” style movies seems to be “Throw unsuspecting teenagers in front of a camera and let zombies eat them.” You can’t just make walking corpses lumber into a living room, grunt twice, eat some poor bastard who can’t be bothered to stop reading his Sunday Times and investigate his wife’s screaming, and expect miracles on celluloid.

Movies like White Zombie, Land of the Dead, Dawn of the Dead (1978 version) Shaun of the Dead or The Serpent and the Rainbow seem to be fading bulbs in a dead Christmas light string left on the roof trim in the middle of February.

On the other hand, World War Z is hands-down the best zombie apocalypse book I have ever read. Every once in a while, I suffer from the literary version of penis envy; I read a book so good that I wish I had written it myself.

WWZ is that book.

World War Z is a collection of individual accounts in the form of interviews with the survivors of a global plague that has reanimated corpses & turned the populated regions of Earth into a graveyard. Ten years after the "official" end of the worldwide zombie war, millions of undead are still active and the geopolitical landscape of the Earth has been completely altered. In colder areas of the globe, outbreaks occur every spring, when frozen zombies thaw and find their way to human populations. Large swarms still roam the ocean floor and occasionally emerge onto dry land.

The plot focuses on the documents of an agent of the United Nations Postwar Commission who published the novel a decade after the “Zombie War”, when the United Nations leaves out much of his work from the official report, as it chose to focus on the facts and figures of the war rather than the human aspects he included. The novel charts a decade-long struggle against the teeming dead told from the view point of many different people and nationalities. In addition, the personal accounts describe the changing religious, geo-political, and environmental aftermath of the war.

Supposedly, they are making it into a movie…We’ll see how that goes. Like I said earlier, it takes more than zombies to make a good movie.

I, too, am here for the Kumite…

Is there anybody here who hadn't lost their fascination with Jean Claude Van Damme by the early 90's? He made about a gazillion chopsockey films, 20 comeback attempts, 12 marriages, four trips to rehab, a very ugly custody dispute, with a complete lack of talent, acting, martial, or otherwise.

But, you have to admit; He was a guilty pleasure. For the first few years, we thought we were on the verge of seeing something really great evolving. Just like everyone has their favorite Duran Duran song, they also have their favorite Jean-Claude Van Damme flick. I happily admit to “Bloodsport”, although I was a fan of “Timecop” for awhile.

Someone from Japan (???) suggested that I check out “JCVD”, a semi-biographical mockumentary/crime drama/heartwarming story about a boy and his dog that’s really a kickboxer.

It’s actually pretty good.

In fact, JCVD is the best movie this man has ever made, period. Steven Segal could not have made such a film. Bruce Lee probably couldn't have either. There's a moment of divinely-inspired inspired writing during the broken fourth wall sequence, where Jean-Claude looks at the camera and says "Sometimes, in Hollywood, they say; "We're gonna fuck him." It’s a sad reminder that not all heroes ride off into the sunset victorious. It also reminds us of how awesome this man once was.

Way to go, Jean-Claude. Looks like you get to go out with your head held high after all.

This one came out of left field

If you're as sick to death of lonesome, lovesick, slightly homosexual, overly-feminine male vampires going on for days about how their lives are a curse of solitary confinement, and how they long for companionship from the living if only they didn't have to eat them, well, let me say here and now that you don't need a good vampire movie. After all that, you need to get your ass to a therapist.

However, if you are so inclined, may I direct your attention to "Let The Right One In". Easily surpassing the overly syrupy teen-angst ridden "Twilight" and the mega-cheesy "Blade" series (Wesley Snipes is about as believable a vampire as Bill O'Rielly was a news anchor). The title refers to the Morrissey song "Let the Right One Slip In", but also to the aspect of vampire folk lore which says that vampires cannot enter a house unless invited.

Set in early 80’s Sweden, Let The Right One In is about a 12-year-old boy named Oskar, and a seemingly same-age girl named Eli, who turns out to be…quite a bit older. Oskar is the typical outcast at school, tormented and bullied, and Eli is new to town. They make friends in the park behind his apartment building, and Eli teacher Oskar to fight back instead of turning away. “Hit them. Hit them hard.”

There are so many great scenes and subplots to this movie, I can’t give a worthy review in one article. Suffice it to say, this one is worth the movie price.

DO NOT bring your kids to this movie. For that matter, your teenage son should avoid it as well. Although Let The Right One In is ostensibly about a pair of children, this is a horror film for adults, and while the scenes of friendship, courage and love are depicted in the best traditions of Disney, the horror shots are INSPIRED, and the pool scene finale will leave you open-mouthed stunned.

I own the book, and it makes the movie seem like a lovely French film about a girl and her balloon. Dark and twisted, the subject matter is barely acceptable for people over 50, and although the movie captures the spirit of the book, I’m glad they toned it down some as well.

(Aside note: As usual, there is an American version being filmed right now, with completely different actors. Why can’t we just accept good things from other countries without always fucking with them to seem like WE thought of it? For fuck’s sake already…)

If you have a Netflix account, you can watch JCVD and Let the Right One In on the free download tab. You won't be disappointed.

Again, with the curse (Must be a full moon, or something)

Something I can’t knock about being a writer is the need for specificity in presentation, to be concise (or, as concise as possible) with clarity and simplicity. When I see something like statistics, quotes or second-hand information being passed around as truth, I WANT SOURCES, GODAMMIT! And, accordingly, I hold myself to the same standard, which I believe makes my articles and stories more readable, and helps my overall craft evolve.

Unfortunately, this has made me a proper asshole to hold a conversation with.

I can’t seem to speak with my friends on topics than breach superficiality anymore, I can’t hold a “deep” conversation with a close acquaintance because I always demand the same verbal acuity of others that I demand of myself. I want factual support to back up claims, I want research and evidence, or at least verisimilitude until proven otherwise. I have subjected several buddies of mine to this line of reasoning lately, hoping to infect them with the same disease that I obviously have. And they are starting to lose their patience with me.

Yesterday my wife, finding the limit of her fuse with me quicker than I anticipated, exploded in a frustrated rage at my correcting her usage of a particular word. After wiping gobbets of angry Chinese woman off me (that one’s for you, Steve) I decided that maybe I should keep my literary smugness to my damn self. I poured myself a nice hot mug of shut the fuck up and write, and left my wife alone to have a good fume for a few hours.

Writer’s Curse: It has many symptoms.

I refuse to accept your version of reality...

Try to pronounce that. You can't do it without giggling. I have tried, God knows I have, to get on board with this "new look". Unfortunately, I just KNOW it won't come with "new writers", or "better editing". Hell, at this point, I'd settle for "halfway watchable".

I dunno. In the late 50's, it was called "Speculative Fiction", and I think it was L. Sprague DeCamp who "came out of the closet", so to speak, with the term "Science Fiction". Whoever came up with "Sci Fi", I have no idea, but it's what I grew up on, so a bunch of Vulcan ear-wearing rejects attending a convention who didn't date much in high school can lick me. I writeSci-Fi. Its short for Science Fiction. I don't know what the hell "SYFY" is, but it souds like a disease you catch between your toes.

Maybe this is just the next generation putting their 2 cents in. To them, I say:

SHUT THE HELL UP, YOU SNOTNOSED BASTARDS!!

This...Is why there's a disconnect.