Archive for September, 2011

Christie

Friday, September 30th, 2011

The minute he gets in, he sinks like a stone. The minute this thing gets real and stops being a GOP circle jerk, we’ll get to see this extremely entertaining bully whose act will wear thin on both the crackpots Christie so despises and the independents he can’t win without. This is exactly the same thing these people did to Perry: he jumps in and he’s today’s darling, a man’s man who can take the fight to the president. And, almost immediately, they’ll turn on him and leave him sputtering by the side of the road as Romney goes on to win the nod. Getting in bed with these people is a terrible idea and Christie knows it.

How this man can see what these folks did to Rick Perry and think, “Yeah, these are the folks I wanna hook up with,” is beyond me. Long before the DNC starts playing the very amusing collection of Christie clips saying he’s not ready, he doesn’t want it enough, suicide jokes, etc., Romney, Bachmann and the Statue of Liberty Foam Hat Crowd will eviscerate this guy and destroy his chances for gubernatorial reelection.

Christie knows saying “yes” to this is a zero-sum game. He’s wanted to be NJ governor all his life. If he gets in now, by February, March the latest, he’s done in politics. This is a completely idiotic idea, not because he’s not qualified—I mean, like that even matters anymore—but because the GOP is a snake pit right now, full of incredibly wacky types who turn on you in a heartbeat.

Unless Christie comes in and cleans house completely—I mean denouncing the wackos straight off and executing a coup d’état seizing total control of the party—he will be destroyed. Christie, the guy who appointed a Muslim judge while ridiculing wingnuts hollering “Sharia Law!” has denounced these folks too many times to walk back now.

He is not these people’s friend and they know it.

Tin Men

Wednesday, September 28th, 2011

And that’s the worry: what to do after you’ve old the origin story. Iron Man 2 has already demonstrated that, beyond the compelling origin story, they have nothing to say. Where do they go next? Superman: The Movie began as an unbelievably sober and grown-up science fiction film and then, finger-snap, became ridiculous once Clark moved to Metropolis. Once they got there, into the camp silliness, the film and the franchise to follow never recovered. The worry is that America will quickly grow tired of the diet and, as fast as super-hero flicks exploded as a phenom, they will implode from over-exposure and under-development. We’re still lining up, but in order to keep those lines forming, the producers will have to do better.

They can get away with this thin material because the origin story is always a solid bit of storytelling. But, after that, they’ll need to actually have something to say.

Full Essay Is Here

Mirror, Mirror

Wednesday, September 28th, 2011

Gene Roddenberry’s hopeful future was not there. It was implied, perhaps taken for granted, but it was not evidenced in any meaningful or significant way. That future—one in which poverty, disease, war, hunger, and most human vices have been eliminated—was what made Star Trek rise above most other science-future spaceship serials. This is something director J.J. Abrams either didn’t realize or didn’t care about. Hope was a huge component of Star Trek, and Abrams left hope on the cutting room floor. The major reboot performances are only interesting if you’re familiar with the originals, which these performances vaguely echo without actually measuring up to. Eye candy, lots of fun, but not enough depth to make the film compelling, no lessons learned, no questions pondered, no hope extended to us.

As fun a way to kill an afternoon as any, and I suppose the film will rake in lots of cash. But, for this Trek fan, it serves manly to underscore just how great the original was.

Full Essay Is Here

The Stim

Sunday, September 25th, 2011

The nation’ s future is in the hands of White America. The novelty of the first black presidential nominee is well behind us, now, and Black America harbors muffled discontent at the administration’s seeming indifference to their disproportionate economic suffering. Which isn’t to say we won’t support the president, but the house-on-fire urgency of 2008 is long gone. The Republicans are unlikely to nominate anyone who will be in any way attractive to Black America, so the only real question is how offensive an Uncle Fester the GOP will pick. They simply don’t have anybody yet who would beat Obama in the general if the economy wasn’ t in the tank. And these nutty cartoon characters the GOP keeps rolling out consistently put their feet, both of them, in their mouths. They are offensive not only to black people but to thinking people, many of whom will simply hold their nose and choose the devil they know rather than roll the dice with one of these buffoonish ideologues.

This is, perhaps, the only campaign strategy left to the president: hope the GOP nominates a nut.

The Hairball

Thursday, September 22nd, 2011

I was looking through some old comics the other day, came across the Panther/Storm two-fer, started reading and couldn’t understand a word of it. I mean it.

There was this kid, Vibraxas, and his back-s tory, there was a bunch of business with Lord Gaur and the Eternals, whoever they were, and a pot-bellied SHIELD agent about

to start World War III by hunting these folks down.

The White Wolf, whom I liked quite a bit, was using Vibraxas to resurrect Klaw, so I needed to explain who the White Wolf was (The Panther’s adopted brother, his Reverse Flash) and who Klaw was (the man who created The Black Panther when he murdered Panther’s father, T’Chaka—wait, now I have to explain who T’Chaka was). Then there were all of these side characters running around—Queen Divine Justice and Panther’s staff. There was so much plot, the brilliant Sal Velluto’s art was routinely suffocated by having been constricted to six panels on a page, which I covered with Ross’s chattering (explain who Ross is). I couldn’ t read i

It was a mess.

I flopped down on my sofa and thought, “What the hell was I thinking?”

Full Essay Is Here