Thursday, June 19, 2008

Bob Larson hams it up with Satan

A week or two I blogged about Bob Larson, the rock and roll hating, demon chasing exorcist who has a new series scheduled for October, 2008, on the Sci-Fi network, "The Real Exorcist". Today I was on YouTube looking for exorcism videos. I was actually searching for footage of Roy Masters, whose meditation exercise I once practiced (to my detriment, IMO), and who has a reputation for doing exorcisms at his ranch in Grant's Pass, Oregon. Instead, I found several installments of what I take to be an introductory episode of "The Real Exorcist". There are 5 parts, they are very high quality and I assume that, joined together, they make up the show in it's entirety.

Two words immediately came to my mind when I first watched these: BIZARRE and RIDICULOUS. This is going to be one hell of a comedy series, maybe the best one ever shown on Sci-Fi. It may even be the funniest show of all time. In a sad way.

Billed as a "reality show", somehow I doubt it. Larson may not be acting, but I guarantee he loves that camera. I'll bet he's ecstatic to finally have an audience bigger than the ones the religious networks can give him. The only thing "real" about this series is the instability of it's star's mental status.

No doubt he's also hamming it up, loving every minute of it, because it virtually guarantees that millions of dollars that will pour into the coffers of his Spiritual Freedom Church International (Inc.!!!!!!!!!). As the abundance of quack televangelists will attest, and as P.T. Barnum so eloquently put it, "There's a sucker born every minute."









Thank God they've finally FOUND IT!


...from The World's Only Reliable Newspaper, the legendary WEEKLY WORLD NEWS.

Ha! This is one of the most festive photographs of Sigur Ros I've ever seen! Hilarious!

Here is a review of the Kansas City show, from Buzzine. The reviewer, Nicole Pope, doesn't seem to know which song the horn section showed up in. It was "Se Lest", as it always is, but she has it down as "Hufupukar", which, frankly, I have never heard of. Odd, because one of her own photographs shows a set list and there is certainly no mention of any "Hufupakur"

She also uses that dreaded word "Hopelandic". Sheesh.

It's nice to have a review of the Uptown show, but from reading Pope's peice you'd think that she had just witnessed a meeting of Jesus Christ, Guatama Buddha and Krishna. If you think I go overboard, wait till you read this.

"You Don't Mess Around With the Zohan"

I was very disappointed with this move, as the promotional clips were funny. Maybe if I was still struggling through pubescence I might be kinder to "Zohan", I very well may have loved it. But one idiotic ribald joke/situation after another grows tiring very quickly. The tries to make some lame point about "why can't we just get along, hey, this is America, we're all equal here, right?" Obvious as that is, at least the sentiment is a good one. Too bad it gets bogged down in so much "almost-already-out-of-date" topical humor and the above mentioned onslaught of crudity.

Plus, the character, Zohan, is one of the least likable ones Adam Sandler has ever played. That alone sinks the film.


NOTE TO ANY PARENTS WHO MAY BE CONSIDERING TAKING THE YOUNGSTERS TO SEE "ZOHAN"...it wasn't very long ago when a movie filled with this much sexually-oriented content would have been given an R rating. There's no flat out nudity (unless you count a couple of shots of Sandler's ass), but make no mistake, the gratuitous sexual references in "You Don't Mess Around With the Zohan" are as thick as flies on a piece of...well, you get my drift. It's a wonder there weren't hordes of them buzzing around the screen when I saw this yesterday.

PS...for the record, I AM NO PRUDE, but there comes a point when enough is enough, it's just not funny anymore. "Zohan" reached that point within the first 30 minutes.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008



Vacation Journal Part 3: 6.14.08

The third and final installment...

6.14.08


6:05 am

No big bookstores that we could find – Springfield is much larger than I thought it was (did I already say that?). We didn’t go to Fantastic Caverns and probably won’t today. Either. Maybe do that some other time.

Instead we’ll be stopping in Branson on the way home to pay a visit to Ripley’s Believe it or Not Museum (update: See photos in post from a couple of days ago). Bryan has wanted to go there for some time.

There’s a Beatles tribute show there at 2:00 pm, and I’d like to see itm but I don’t know if we’re going to be done with the other stuff by then (update: We did not get to see “Liverpool Legends” for various reasons, but it will be on the agenda the next time we go to Branson, maybe as soon as next month). Plus, I don’t know how much tickets cost, etc. etc. …

No matter. Truth be told, I am worn out (update: I think I’ve already said that too, but boy, oh boy, it was so true). We had the swimming pool to ourselves yesterday afternoon. Stacie and I spent a good amount of time in the spa (which was, along with the pool, MUCH better than the ones at the Hilton Garden Inn in KC). BTW, we are in a suite at the Baymont Inn, not too far from the airport. It’s by far the nicest hotel I’ve ever stayed in. Jacuzzi in the room and all.

We left out to eat dinner not knowing what we might find. As it turned out, there was a Western Sizzlin steakhouse not too far from the hotel. We haven’t eaten at one of those in years. I remember it being pretty good on almost every occasion, food and service both.

Hard-wired to devour a buffet when given the choice, that’s exactly what I did I ate TOO much, I have to admit it. As I walked out the EXIT door it occurred to me that a better idea would have been to merely ordered up a nice, well-done steak with some French fries and call that “dinner”. Instead, like a fool I gorged myself. I am paying dearly for it this morning. I do not think I will be eating very much today.

All in all it’s been a nice vacation. I wish it could have been just the three of us (wife, son and I), but I’m not complaining (update: YET). The situation allowed for Stacie and I to have our own room last nigh…which is ANOTHER reason I’m pooped (hardy har har, wink-wink, nudge nudge).

Actually, I am ready to get back home. Our dog must be terribly lonely. My father-in-law checked in on him last night – gave him food and water. He gave him his medicine. I don’t think Limba has spent quite so much time with us gone. I’m hoping he’ll be okay.

Alright – there’s no way I’m going to be able to sleep. I’ll probably read awhile, but first I’m going to the convenience store and buying a can of Monster. Maybe spend a minute on the Business Room computer.



9:05 am

Heading out. Left the hotel about 5 minutes ago, sat in the parking lot all that time trying to figure out where we were and where we needed to be.

My vote was to go to Fantastic Caverns, as we had planned to do yesterday. But it looks like I’m out-numbered on this one. We’re headed for Branson for the sole purpose of walking through the Ripley’s Believe it or Not Museum (update: as I learned later, this was NOT the only reason). I guess that’s okay. Bryan will like it.

I ate a couple of biscuits with gravy at the hotel’s complimentary breakfast. It was NOT the best gravy I’ve ever had. Then again, it wasn’t the worst, either. It was decent when covered with lots of salt and pepper. When it cooled down, though, I couldn’t eat it. Yuk.



9:30 am

If not for all the unique billboard advertising Branson shows and reviews, this stretch of land between Springfield and Branson would be a boring one, indeed.

Most (if not all) of these signs are ridiculous. From all I’ve heard, Branson is more or less a “poor man’s Nashville”. That’s a bit harsh, but there certainly are a bevy of shows featuring performers who passed their prime years ago. Lots of “tribute” stuff. One has to wonder how hard it must be to find someone who not only LOOKS but also SINGS like Alan Jackson…or Johnny Cash…or Roy Orbison…or…you name it. If he/she even comes close to “legendary” status, you’ll find someone who impersonates them here.

Come to think of it – is it realistic to consider that Alan Jackson has reached “legendary status”??? (update: Apparently Reba McEntire and Shania Twain have, too…inexplicable and not a little bit disturbing)

One thing that seems very popular around here are the Ozark Mountain Backwoods Hillbilly Comedy Reviews (as I would call them). The Baldknobbers are a good example. A straight man (or woman) and a bunch of toothless goons sporting bottles of moonshine and making ridiculous faces, smiling widely to show of rotting teeth. You’d have to pay me to see one of these idiot fests.

I will say this – as you get closer to Branson, into Ozark mountain territory, the scenery turns mighty pretty.



12:45 pm

We went to the Ripley’s Believe It Or Not Museum and it was actually a lot of fun. They had a display about “tongue-rolling”, complete with a mirror so you could see just how well you could roll your own. But what you don’t know is that you’re on the other side of a one-way mirror and people nearing the end of the museum can see you. What makes it funny, to me, is that these people have no idea they are being watched. Then you realize that people had been looking at YOU not too long before and you think back to remember if you had tried to roll your tongue.

No, I did not.

My favorite exhibit at the museum was a holographic man speaking from a dark room…Ever since I saw the movie “Wild Palms” I have believed that one day these holographic images will deliver our news for is instead of TVs, and much more. This display made me realize that this idea very well could become reality much sooner than I’d thought.

Next we stopped at Taco Bell. I wasn’t too hungry. But I figured I’d eat a Mexican pizza. They fucked up the order and I got Nachos Grande. I don’t know how in the fuck anyone can call that a “meal”. If it weren’t for the soft taco that came with it I would have walked out hungry.

Next, Stacie and her sister wanted to go to some winery – apparently their folks wanted a bottle of this wine and there’s a wine tour. I could give less than a fuck about any of that, so I’m sitting out in the car with Bryan. I was going to go to the Tanger Outlet Mall and hang out at the clearance book store, to wait there while they visited the winery. But this particular Tanger mall didn’t have one. So I said I would go to another mall while they did the wine thing.

~~~~~~A portion of this journal has been deleted at this point for various reasons~~~~~

Maybe we’ll come to Branson again, someday (update: Meaning only the three of us, Stacie, Bryan and myself). I don’t know if there’s really any other (good) reason to return, other than the bargains on new clothes at the Tanger Mall. The Beatles tribute looks interesting and fun, but practically everything else is lame. Fuckin’ Presley Jubilee, with it’s hillbilly goofiness… The fuckin’ Baldknobbers seem to own a whole goddamn block – Baldknobbers theater, Baldknobbers lodging, Baldknobbers general store – it’s pathetic (update: Perhaps it is plain to see that I was not in a very good mood after departing the winery...).

~~~~~~~Another portion of this journal has been deleted at this point for various reasons~~~~~



3:05 pm

Still about 100 miles from Tulsa, the cramped conditions in this back seat are killing me. It sure seems like the trip back has been longer than the trip up there. But that can’t be, not even with the Branson side-track. At any rate, I am worn down. Perhaps that’s been obvious.

I think it was all the swimming that has me so sore. The standing in line before the Sigur Ros show…the standing DURING the Sigur Ros show…that had to add to it. Don’t guess it matters much, We aren’t even in Joplin yet, which means we haven’t even crossed into Oklahoma.

I would be much happier were I behind the wheel. And as much as I bitched and moaned about the music she plays on the radio, the silence has become boring. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I kind of wish she’d turn it on and I don’t even care what music is playing.

I know this – I’m in the mood for some Sigur Ros. I think I’ll slap on “Agaetis Byrjun” on as soon as I get home, lay down and try to take a nap. At least wind down and give my back something softer to lie against besides this hard back seat.

There are no fuckin’ armrests back here, either. This thing was not made to haul four comfortably. If it WAS I would have to say that the designers failed miserably. By the way, it’s a Vibe (update: At the time I had just learned this). What a hokey name for a car.



5:35 pm

Arriving in Sapulpa (update: back in Oklahoma).

It’s almost over!

Whoo!

I probably should not written much of what I didd a few hours ago. But I won’t take it back.

~~~~~Yet another portion of this journal has been deleted at this point for various reasons~~~~~

Stopped at a Quik Trip about 30 minutes ago and I actually bought a copy of the National Enquirer. I found myself in the mood for some campy, trashy reading. Since I haven’t been able to find the Weekly World News lately and since they didn’t have the Globe, I went ahead and got the Enquirer. It’s not half as hokey as the others, and that’s what I’m looking for – but it will do in a pinch.

Then I realized that it’s probably considered “gay” for a man to read this gossipy junk. Oh, well. Let the masses think what they will. There is some funny stuff in there, and a decent crossword puzzle. That’s all I wanted.

The National Enquirer’s price has skyrocketed since I last bought one. It’s $3.49. I’m certain it was less than a dollar when I last wasted money on one…



~~~~~~This is where the journal leaves off. Tired of writing, I cast it to the side and said, “fuck it!”.

We got back to our place of departure at around 6:00 or 7:00 pm (though it seemed like it was a LOT later than that). We were kind of hungry, so we stopped at Mazzio’s. I didn’t think I was as hungry as I was…the effect of all the Monsters and RockStars I’d consumed over the weekend. But I did force myself to eat a nice, big salad and I felt better for it.

I did play some Sigur Ros when I got home, and sleep was not long in coming.

It was a very nice vacation, despite some “distractions”. As expected, the Sigur Ros concert was amazing (though I was dealing with a little bit of “large crowd paranoia” which hindered my enjoyment of it just a little bit). The hotels were nice, especially the Baymont. The Branson main strip was a sight to behold. The trip itself was tedious, but in the long run it was well worth the trouble.

Music Video of the Week: Curtis Mayfield

You must pause the Sigur Ros jukebox to get the full sonic effect of this 70's classic from the movie "Superfly".

"Pusherman"
Curtis Mayfield