Bashing the GOP. (And Proud of It.)

Hey Blogglitts! Your Uncle PC has been away for a while.

But, I'm back! And I am on fire.

Why do I criticize Republicans? (Or, as my GOP friends put it, "bash" Republicans.) Well, the recalled Arizona senate president, Russell Pearce, is a good example.

Get yourselves caught up, here.

Lack of empathy. No comment beyond this. If you have read this story and don't get it, you may be a Republican.

Ignorance of recent history. (Drug testing for welfare in the states that are doing it has shown that drug use among welfare recipients is a statistical zero. And expensive, to boot.)

Ignorance of recent history, The Last Three Decades Edition. Because if you have lived through the last three decades and have not grasped the damage that Reagan, Bush I, Clinton (GOP Light,) and Bush II inflicted on America, you must have been in a coma. Or, you may be a Republican.

Ignorance of what things public assistance does and does not cover. (“No cash for Ding Dongs and Ho Hos, you’d only get money for 15-pound bags of rice and beans, blocks of cheese and powdered milk – all the powdered milk you can haul away,” Pearce said. “If you want a steak or frozen pizza, then you’d have to get a job.” Go ahead. Try buying Ding Dongs and Ho Hos with an EBT card. G'head! I'll be right over here watching and laughing. Rice and beans and powdered milk are okay? In 15 pound bags? Great idea! All the carbs with none of the nutrition. Meat based protein? Like a 75¢ a pound flap steak? Fuck that, lazy takers! Here, have some blocks of cheese, instead. "All you can haul away." Blocks and blocks of artery clogging, colin blocking, minimally nutritious cheeeeezzzze! Or, as I like to call it, frozen pizza in it's embryonic state. Don't get me wrong, I'm not bashing cheese, here. Because, Mmmmmm...... cheese!

Seriously, your Blog could live on cheese as long as he has a proper supply of Triscuts™ to put it on. (But, I am guessing that Triscuts™ = Ho Hos (also ™) in Russell Pearce's view.) But, yeah. I could live on cheese three meals a day.

Wait, what? My left arm just went numb. My back hurts. So does my chest. Can't breathe. Aackkkkk.

jk, lol. I'm okay. Because I do not live, entirely on cheese. Entirely. Also, bacon. And scotch. And tobacco. But, I am still okay. For now...

I've lost my train of thought. Where was I? Oh, yeah! I'm back...

More ignorance of what things public assistance does and does not cover. "Plasma TVs and X-Box 360s." He forgot to mention pimped out Escalades and Hawaiian vacations.

Basic big government vs. small government hypocrisy.

Exhibit A... Military barracks style housing. “You’ll maintain your property in a clean, good state of repair, and your home will be subjected to an inspection at any time, possessions will be inventoried."  Nope, no government intrusion to be found here. Here in Los Angeles, we actually have a huge, dorm style, mega-shelter for any homeless persons who would like to avail themselves of the amenities. It is run by "bleeding heart, libtards." All while L.A. has perfectly good, municipal, homeless facilities, better known as "Skid Row," and "the 405 off-ramp at Rosecrans Ave."

Exhibit Two... “You put me in charge of Medicaid, the first thing I’d do is get Norplant, birth-control implants, or tubal ligations..." aka: "forced sterilization" which is nothing like anything going on in commie Red China.

Finally, Mr. Pearce sums up with the classic Christianist, conservative, go-to argument.

“I know there’s people out there [who] need help, (Stop right there! "...there's people out there...?" "There's?" Call the grammar police! "There's" some super good talking of Englishness, right there, their, they're... it is "there are," you semi-literate dunce... [pause for hyoer-ventilation.]) and my heart goes out to them, too.”  Because he, somehow, is qualified to judge who are worthy of help and who are not. And, he goes on... "That should never be a government role. That’s a role for family, church, and community.”

This takes us back to Ignorance of History.

If taking care of "the lesser among us," could be done by "family, church and community," alone, welfare, Social Security, housing assistance, food stamps, Medicaid and Medicare, would never have had to be enacted, in the first place.

And therefore, also too, I criticize Republicans. I also bash Christianist, Tea-bagging, Ayn Randian, right-wing douche nozzles.

If the (probably made in China,) tri-corner hat fits...

I make no apologies.

Robin Williams, Pt. 2

Your Blog is still working through his reaction to the sudden loss of one of the funniest humans of his lifetime. 

I have spent the last couple of hours, thanks to the wonder of the internet, immersed in all things Robin Williams. 

I have laughed and cried, (there is about half a box worth damp of Kleenexes™ piled on my desk,) and sat in awe of his genius. 

But, I am still not ready to put all of my thoughts and "feels" (as the kids say,) into a coherent post. Maybe tomorrow night. 

Until then...

I came across a transcript from one of Robin's "Mork from Ork" reports to his intergalactic leader, Orson, that feels all too appropriate at this time.

"Mork calling Orson. Come in Orson..."

Orson: The report, Mork.

Mork: This week I discovered a terrible disease called loneliness.

Orson: Do many people on Earth suffer from this disease?

Mork: Oh yes sir, and how they suffer. One man I know suffers so much he has to take a medication called bourbon, even that doesn't help very much because then he can hear paint dry.

Orson: Does bed rest help?

Mork: No because I've heard that sleeping alone is part of the problem. You see, Orson, loneliness is a disease of the spirit. People who have it think that no one cares about them.

Orson: Do you have any idea why?

Mork: Yes sir, you can count on me. You see, when children are young, they're told not to talk to strangers. When they go to school, they're told not to talk to the person next to them. Finally when they're very old, they're told not to talk to themselves, who's left?

Orson: Are you saying Earthlings make each other lonely?

Mork: No sir, I'm saying just the opposite. They make themselves lonely, they're so busy looking out for number one that there's not enough room for two.

Orson: It's too bad everybody down there can't get together and find a cure.

Mork: Here's the paradox sir, because if they did get together, they wouldn't need one. Isn't that zenlack?

While we are at it, here is a clip of another report that feels appropriate...

"Saying Goodbye to a Friend."  

Shazbot! Isn't that zenlack?

Nanu Nanu.

Robin Williams

The world is a little more empty, tonight.

A little less funny.

Robin Williams has "shuffled off this mortal coil."

While not officially confirmed, it appears that Robin asked Hamlet's ultimate question, "To be, or not to be..." and like the prince of Denmark, he chose the latter.

I want to write something meaningful about Robin and his influence on, at least, two generations of fans, friends and admirers.

And I have much to say. But, right now, my thoughts are a chaotic mess, and it is going to take a day or so to get them into some sort of coherent order.

In the meantime, The Blog, Jr., aka: The Hapless Romantic, has beat his old man to the punch and has written a moving tribute to Robin's legacy from his perspective.

Please take a few minutes and check it out.

Until tomorrow night...

                                                                     "Nanu Nanu."

Celebrity Make-up Artists

As I sit here at my computer, printing classroom stuff for my wife, the TV drones on in the background. A rerun of "Criminal Minds" ends and an infomercial comes on, touting some "miracle" cosmetic product being sold by a "celebrity make-up artist" that I have never heard of. 

God, how I hate the term, "celebrity make-up artist." 

We are make-up artists. We often work with celebrities. That is what we do. If we gain some modicum of fame for our association with a celebrity, well, that's pretty nice. 

But, we are not celebrities. I call bullshit on any make-up artist who pretends otherwise. 

Infomercial "celebrity make-up artists" are the modern day version of old timey snake oil salesmen. Selling the same old products, hyped by competent publicists. 

A while back, while in Las Vegas for the Daytime Emmys, I ran into a minor celebrity and her make-up artist in an elevator. The minor celebrity informed me that her make-up artist aspired to be a "celebrity make-up artist," and "could I give her some advice?"

My advice was thus...

"Do not aspire to be a 'celebrity make-up artist.' Aspire to be the best make-up artist that you can be. Aspire to help your clients to become glamorous celebrities. And when and if that happens, enjoy your association with your celebrity client. But, do not mistake your client's celebrity for your own."

I continued...

"If you want to be a celebrity, become a successful actor, yourself. Or, you know, star in a viral sex tape. That worked for Paris and Kim." 

"But, if you want success as a make-up artist, eschew "celebrity" and embrace the success of continual employment."

That is all I have to say about that. 

Comebacks

For all the violence, political crap, hypocrisy, and reasons for Your Blog to be, generally, pissed off at the world...

For all the personal annoyances and inconveniences plaguing your Uncle PC...

Today, I am happy for a couple of reasons.

And I am going to bask in those reasons, for as long as I can.

We all experience loss in our lives.

Some are major.

The death of a loved one. The end of a friendship. An ugly break-up.

Those losses happen.

We grieve. Then we move on.

Other losses are small. Some might even say "petty."

But, those losses touch us in a personal way.

So, when a small but personal loss happens, an unexpected "comeback" is nothing short of glorious!

(Did you catch that exclamation point, there? You know I don't use those, unless I am super excited.)

So, here we go...

Comeback Number One...

Remember a couple of years ago, when the iconic purveyor of baked junk food, Hostess, suddenly declared bankruptcy and went out of business?

A year later, predictably, the company rose, like a phoenix from the ashes, under new ownership, and about six months ago, declared it, "The Sweetest Comeback Ever!"

(Their exclamation point, not mine.)

Hostess was back.

Those chocolate cupcakes with the trademark curli-que frosting. Doughy mystery pastries they call "fruit pies." Dry, bland "Donettes." And, of course, the cream filled sponge cake fingers that sport a "half life" rather than a "shelf life." The delicacy that Archie Bunker once called, "White Man's Soul Food..."

                                                                          Twinkies.

*DIGRESSION*

The notion that Twinkies never spoil is, actually, a myth. The fact is that the shelf life of a Twinkie is actually about 30 days. But, like Santa Claus, Bigfoot and The Loch Ness Monster, it is a myth that is fun to believe in."

*END DIGRESSION*

And your PC said, "Meh."

The resurrection of Hostess has been, in Your Blog's not so humble opinion, like a cat buried in Big Steve King's "Pet Semetary."

Reanimated, but just not quite right.

Until today.

I hate the phrase "guilty pleasure." 

If you get pleasure watching "The Real Housewives of Wherever," or smoking cheap cigars, or listening to the music of ABBA on your iPod™, or getting your munchie on with a Taco Bell "Doritos Loco," own it and tell the judgmental ones to shove it.

But if I have one, so called, "guilty pleasure," it is this...

Take a Hostess cupcake. Strip off the chocolate and curli-que frosting. Turn it upside down and cover it with rubbery marshmallow and coconut.

Are you with me?

This morning, I was at one my 8 or 9 local "7Eleven" stores, picking up a copy of the L.A. Times.

I turned around and a new Hostess display caught my eye.

That's not accurate.

The sky opened and shined heavenly light on the display as a choir of angels sang.

                                                      Hostess Sno-Balls are, finally, back.

Hallelujah!

Now, truly, "The Sweetest Comeback Ever!"

And if that was not enough for one day...

Comeback Number Two..

*SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT!  SPOILER ALERT!*

If you are, in any way, invested in the Marvel Comics or Marvel movie universe, and don't want to walk into a major spoiler, connected to tonight's release of Marvel's...

                                                            "Guardians of the Galaxy"

... movie. Stop reading now. I am not fucking kidding.

Click away and enjoy this cute clip, instead.

Seriously.

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Are they gone?

Okay.

Let's do this. 

Your Blog has always had mixed feelings about the announcement of movie adaptations of existing properties that I love.

Comic books, novels series, TV shows, whatever.

At first, I get excited.

And then, I get cynical.

More often than not, movie adaptations of things that I love, at best, miss the mark.

Some are successful. Some are even good, on their own, but personally disappointing.

I'm thinking, both film adaptations of "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory," "Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang," "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy," and Joel Shoemaker's "Batman" movies. 

In the old days, an adaptation that tanks could kill any hope of a future sequel or franchise or remake. In some cases, it could even kill the future of the original source. (i.e.: "Barb Wire.")

Studio suits would run like they were on fire from any attempt to revive a horribly failed adaptation. And who could blame them?

But we are living in the age of the "reboot."

Did "Batman and Robin" kill the Batman franchise? Wait a few years and hire a quirky indie director to go back to the drawing board and give us "The Dark Knight" trilogy.

"The Hulk" was a steaming pile of art? No need to wait generations to tackle it again. Just pretend it didn't happen and start over.

What am I going on about, here?

I am a comic book nerd, but I have no emotional investment in the Marvel Universe.

I am a DC, (and ancient history, Warren Publishing,) guy.

I like Marvel comics, and I like the Marvel movies, (mostly.) But, I am have no personal investment in most of the Marvel characters. (Emphasis on "most." There is one...)

So, when The Nerdist posted a *MAJOR SPOILER* regarding an "after the credits" cameo from

"The Guardians of the Galaxy" on Facebook, today...



I plowed ahead.

If you don't care about any of this, you won't care. Feel free to keep reading, but you won't care.

But, if you love this Marvel character from the past as much as I do, read on at your own risk. Or...

*LAST CHANCE! CLICK AWAY NOW! I MEAN IT!*

*Legal Disclaimer...*

"This Blog will not be held responsible for spoiling your future fun, or for the damage that may be done to your person or your computer, when your mind is blown and your head explodes."

*End Disclaimer. You have been warned!*

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Are you still here?

Okay.

Here we go...

Back in the late '80s, no less than George Lucas and Robert Zemeckis made a big budget movie based on the only Marvel character that I loved as much as I could love any fictional character.

It was an epic failure.

It missed it's mark so badly that the movie's title remained a Hollywood punchline for decades.

Your Blog never, in his wildest imagination, ever thought that he would see this character on the big screen, (or even, in comic books,) ever again.

But, I have been informed that he is back, in all his feathered, blustery, pants-less glory, (voiced by Seth Green.)

That's right!

                                                           Howard the Duck is back!!!

(Three, count 'em, 3, exclamation points.)

Adam West

It was the fall of 1983, (or, maybe the spring of '84.) I was hired to work on my first Hollywood movie production. A semi-awful, straight to cable, super soft-core skin flick that had a pretty impressive "C-List" cast. (A story for another day.)

And who was the first actor to sit in my chair? 

None other than my very first, (okay, maybe second, Capt, Kangaroo was probably my first,) childhood, celebrity idol. Batman, himself, Adam West. 

I was nervous. I had always heard that Adam was bitter about the fact that he was forever typecast as The Caped Crusader.

And, I had been taught, in make-up school, "Be professional. Stay cool. Never get all fan-boy when an actor/actress sits in your chair."

Man, that was some stupid advice. 

Actors live to be recognized. I learned that, eventually.

But, in this case, I struggled to maintain my cool, totally missing the signals. 

Not minutes in my chair, Adam said, "I have just one request. Could you draw a cleft on my chin? I spent three years acting with just my chin, so I like to take good care of it."

On Day Two, the make-up trailer had been improperly leveled, and, by that I mean, not leveled at all. The floor slanted at what must have been about a 30 degree grade. My rather weak filter failed for a moment as I quipped, "We had this done to make you feel at home." 

Adam laughed. 

On Day Three, I found myself having lunch with Adam. And, I could control myself, no longer. As we ate and talked, I broke out in an ear-to-ear grin. 

"What?" Adam asked. 

"I'm sorry," I replied. "But, I just can't believe that I am having lunch with Batman!"

Adam smiled, and, feeling emboldened, I went on...

"Can I tell you something?" I continued. "When I was six-years-old, you were my hero." 

Adam got all serious looking and put his hand on my shoulder. 

("Aw shit!" I thought, "I just fucked up, royally."}

"Do me a favor," Adam said, as he looked straight into my eyes. "Do not EVER tell anyone how young you were, when I was your hero."

*GULP*

Then, he burst out laughing. 

Relived, I followed. 

On Day Four, I took a Sharpie™ and wrote "BAM!"  on the back of his powder puff.

He loved it. 

And that was when I, finally, got up the nerve to ask him...

"I had always heard that you were bitter about being typecast as Batman. That it ruined your career. But, I'm not sensing that that is true."

His response blew me away.

"You know," he said, "For a lot of years, that was true. I was bitter. I couldn't get cast in anything. The only jobs I could book were car shows and shopping center openings, and only if I wore the costume. But, one day, I had an epiphany. I realized that I am, at best, a mediocre actor. But, for three glorious years, I got to work with some of the finest actors in Hollywood. Caesar Romero, Burgess Meredith, Vincent Price, Otto Preminger, Victor Buono. I mean, who gets to do that? And now, all these years later, the kids who grew up watching Batman all want to cast me in their movies and TV shows. I mean, how lucky can a bad actor get? I realize, now, that I am blessed beyond belief. 

Which brings us to today's USA Today, ComicCon interview with Adam. 

Read and watch it here. 

Happy Batman Day

Today is July 23, "Batman Day," celebrating the 75th birthday of The Caped Crusader.

But, why July 23?

Batman made his debut in "Detective Comics" #27. The cover states that it is the May issue. And, do to the quirks of comic book distribution, that means it probably hit the stands sometime in February or March.

So, again, why July 23?

Because, according to a DC Comics spokesman, since The Dark Knight's actual birthday is kind of fuzzy anyway, why not make "Batman Day" coincide with the opening day of the San Diego Comic-Con?

Makes sense. Why not?

Maybe I am reaching here. But, I am detecting an historical parallel.

(I know. This is going to sound like I am stoned. I swear I am not. I have not partaken of the herb in decades. But, it would be fair to assume that I have a dram or two of moderately priced scotch in my system.)

The actual birth date of Jesus is unknown. Most Biblical scholars believe that he was born sometime between April and August.

But, when the pagan Emperor Constantine decided to organize Christianity into a thing that was, well, organized, he and his crew of advisors felt that the masses would be more accepting of new holidays if they coincided with established pagan celebrations.

Therefore, the official birthday of Jesus Christ was assigned to the winter solstice.

So there you go.

Are you seeing what I am seeing here?

Happy Batman Day, everyone!

And those of you who were lucky enough to score tickets...

Happy Comic-Con! Grab some swag for me, if you can.