How I Want Michael Bay’s Career To End

Celebs and Media

I’m baffled at how this guy keeps on churning out unwatchable crap yet still manages to wrangle in millions of dollars. Oh wait yes I do know how he does it: he makes stupid movies for stupid people.

We finally got around to watching Transformers 2 this evening and I can tell you I will never watch any movie that has his directorial or producing involvement ever again. This steaming pile of 2h30m dogshit was homophobic, militaristic, misogynistic, racist, pandering and exactly like the first movie, except for more stupid things thrown in just because they could.

If you paid money to see this in the theatre and walked out feeling anything other than outrage, then you are a fucktard.

Let me repeat that:

If you paid money to see this in the theatre and walked out feeling anything other than outrage, then you are a fucktard.

So here’s how I want Michael Bay to ultimately stop making movies:

It’s a hot summer night in L.A. when LAPD get a 911 call to a home in the Hills. Upon entering the home of one M. Bay they find the occupant with his pants down around his ankles and his head stuffed inside a jury rigged microwave that is still running while the door is open. There is a 24″ double ended dildo coming out of Mr Bay’s ass (very little lube). Many SpongeBob Squarepants boo boo band aids cover his bare legs. In Mr Bay’s left hand is a copy of his next script from Hasbro: “Rainbow Brite: Time to Bring the Rain” (in pre-production and talks with the US Navy are close finalized to shooting on the deck of the USS Enterprise) and in his right is a shitload of kiddie porn. His hair is a mess. When the police try to extradite him from the oven, he starts to fuckingyellatthem in such a spew of grievance that the cops are stunned. But then go to work trying to subdue him with tasers and pepper spray.

He goes down yelling “FUCKTHAT’SWHATITFEELSLIKE! OW! MOTHERFUCKER!!!”

TMZ.com then jumps all over this story backed up with cell phone video from a present cop.

Good bye Michael Bay. May you fuck off in hell.

Kitty Nuggets

Personal Bits

As you may remember we got a cat a while back and named him Billy Dee Williams. This is the story of his ailments.

When we got him from the Toronto Humane Society, his records indicated that he has some sort of constipation issues. Seems that every few weeks he gets gummed up and can’t pass his poo as naturally as other cats do. When he gets the blockage he tends to quiet down and not move much (wouldn’t you?) and he starts to walk funny.

And smell.

He does clean himself, that’s not the issue. He can barely keep up with the amount of times he goes, compared to the times he cleans.

Yesterday, Billy Dee was fully into one of these cycles. Yesterday he started to pass an anal-ripping sized ball of poo and it got caught. Mid-exit. So for a time he was walking around with a nugget hanging half way out of his ass.

This is equally hilarious as it is horrifyingly awful.

I noticed this when I decided I couldn’t stand the smell of him and decided to give him a warm washcloth bath back there. Passing over his butt I was shocked to find the turtle head, just stuck there. We were stumped as to what to do. Literally.

Eventually we got him held down, and with much protest from Billy Dee Williams, we managed to brake off a portion of the log and tried in vain to apply olive oil to his abused kitty-pucker. Some time in the night he passed the rest and is resting comfortably.

Rebooting ReBoot

Celebs and Media

Yes, my little geeky friends, you read correctly. According to GayGamer.net, Rainmaker Entertainment is hitting Ctrl-Alt-Del on this 90s TRON-like Canadian TV show called ReBoot. In movie form, no less!

The 90s are now back in vogue.

I loved this show but stopped following due to school (ironically for graphics/web design where I learned how to make things in 3D Studio Max). The voice of Megabyte, Tony Jay, fits perfectly into my theory that all good villains need a British accent. Looking at his voice work (sadly he died in 2006) he certainly backed that theory up! He did the voice of Galactus and Chairface Chippendale for god’s sake!

If you’re an uber-Fan (and you were if you got excited about the 486 to Pentium jump), check out the main fansite here.

Clone Wars – Republic Heroes, or Holy Crap, George! Man up, willya?!

Gaming

“Disappointed will you be.”
–Yoda

I’m 90% through the game and I’m stopping the action to report to you, dear internet, that this game is bad. Shockingly bad. But because of my love for the franchise I continued to play, but purely out of curiosity. Just how bad could this game get?

So. Very. Bad.

The kind of bad that resembles getting kicked in the balls by who you thought was your best friend. And as you go down, their laughing face is burned into your psyche for the rest of your life.

Okay I realize that the whole Clone Wars offshoot is meant for a pre-teen audience but being from the old guard (saw Star Wars 20 times in the theatre the first year it came out, kids), we have to protect the next generation of Fandom from soul sucking predators the likes of Krome Studios. Because it’s a “kid’s game” it shouldn’t mean you can cut corners. That’s like smoking around kids.

Let’s start with the characters. You’d think a game based on a CGI TV show would use the same models, even if they were scaled down for game purposes. No, these avatars look like they were crafted by Miss Giroux’s 3rd Grade Art Class (the same class where they’re not allowed sharp objects in the room). When characters talk they’re given only three mouth shapes: the “eee” shape, an “oh” shape and a comically weirder, bigger “OH” shape which ultimately ruins the originally stylized character designs of Obi Wan and Count Doku, turning them into mongoloid wooden mannequins. By the way, the texture mapping on these characters were done by blind, one fingered shut ins. In other words: they animate and look like (lifeless) shit. The Thunderbirds Brothers were more lifelike – wires and all.

Okay let’s skip the fact that they look like shit-smeared marionettes and move onto the cut scenes. As characters advance the story by …uh… “talking”, edges of their clothes flash in and out of place like they’re standing in a tornado. Whole swaths of cloth pop in and out of existence as the camera pans around characters – some bug in the rendering/camera software that I haven’t seen since pirated copies of Maya. This is an obvious sign that the art director or project manager cared little for the name “Star Wars” and decided to churn out a paycheque, not a quality game.

Game play. Oh Christ where do I start? This game has every thoughtless design choice ever created interlaced throughout it. As you fall, die, jump, fall, die over and over again It literally becomes laughable (if it weren’t for the $50 price tag). Yoda kills the action by halting things mid-sabre swing, and offers help, even after you’ve done the same move hours before. Jumping to and from obstacles become a lesson in guesswork, not intuitive game play, due to your frustrated need to line your character up with the camera positioning. Thankfully you have an infinite number of lives because you’re going to need them as you battle not only repetitive droids but ridiculously touchy control actions. 15 minutes into the game I encountered a bug where Yoda (in one of his preposition reversing yammerings) advises that I jump up on a robot leg to destroy the enemy. I obey and then flail my lightsaber. Nothing. I die. I do this for about 100 tries and then shut the game off in frustration. When I return, repeat Yoda’s advice I do, and the droid goes down in one swing. Save and return could have benefited from some sort of reminder system of where you left off since restarting jumps you to a chapter’s beginning.

I guess if I had to end this on an upbeat note, I’d say the sound is pretty good. The voice characterizations were the same as the show and the Droid Army comments did make me laugh. But that’s it.

If you’re a fan, rent it and get incensed at this bastardization of the Star Wars franchise. Then email Skywalker Ranch with frothing of the mouth. There are much more interesting ways to sell the mythology.

If you’re not, then disregard the last 600 words. This doesn’t pertain to you.

Monday

Toronto, Travel

At 7am, the line up for passports starts, even though the front doors don’t open until 8am. SharkBoy and I are there, first in line with our applications filled, t’s crossed, i’s dotted. We’re planning ahead to the inevitable winter vacation.

Other people start arriving and stand like zombies at the door. The same door with the sign on it in 72pt font: NOT OPEN UNTIL 8AM. When confronted with an unexpected set of obstacles people tend to just shut down, I guess. The locked door and sign is enough for people to blow a circuit and just stop where they discovered their inability to continue on with no regard to the other people who’ve been waiting. As the crowd grows, no one is even considering creating a line which baffles SharkBoy and I. Do you really think rushing the door at 8am is a solution?

“Lets all start a line behind us,” SharkBoy commands to the 10-15 people aimlessly milling around the front door. To my surprise, they all comply without complaint. Thing I Learned Today: using an authoritative voice, people will WANT to be herded like sheep.

As we wait I notice two things about the government building we’re waiting out front of. One: The 70’s awning/marquee has no roof – just a big brushed metal loop that frames the doors, hanging out over the sidewalk, offering no protection from the elements – just the illusion of such. Typical government office.

And Two: the key-card door is not closing, offering no security protection to the vital documents inside the building. Yet the employees still wave their pass cards and yank on the unlocked, un-secure door. Except for one aspiring bureaucrat who walked up to the door, pushed it closed, THEN got her key pass card out and then opened the door. But didn’t bother to check to see if the door closed behind her.

SharkBoy and I instantly look at each other. What the fuck was that?

I imagined we’d get her when we entered the Hall of Passports: in my head I could see a massive empty airplane hanger sized room. Like some Ridley Scott film, pigeons fly randomly around, water drips lyrically down from the high ceiling above…Bladerunner fog makes shafts of sunlight stream through the large room falling on me and one desk. And a yellow line… Our bureaucrat, in high 80s hair and huge 80s glasses squares her shoulder pads and calls out to me: “I can’t serve you until you are fully standing behind the yellow line! BEHIND! I SAID BEHI–good, next please!”

Thankfully after a few moments a frail security guard (why do they always look like you could knock them over with a feather?) came out and sorted us all out into a proper Government of Canada queue. Whew!

On the upside, our passports were renewed within minutes by the most friendliest government worker I have ever encountered. She noticed that I was wearing the same shirt in my old passport as well as my new ID pictures. Bless her!

As an aside, on the way home, I got to do the scramble at Yonge and Dundas as well as encounter an Aboriginal shaman in Allan Gardens doing a morning sun welcoming ritual. I do love Toronto…

Horror Zombie Horse from the Pacific Mall

General

He invades your dreams!
He eats your soul!
He runs up your Rogers Data plan!
He will reduce your family to a mere memory!
He gives you eye STDs!
He can render you resistant to humour!
He will hoof your reasoning beyond recognition!
He contaminates your dairy!
HE IS HORROR ZOMBIE HORSE fromthepacificmall!!!!