Thursday, December 11, 2008

Arthur Petrelli stole my interest in , "Heroes"

What...the...Fuck?! I will try my best to process this as much as possible but I have difficulty writing recaps. I seem to be more conversational in my critiques than ruthless in my reviews. Okay, so this episode was marginally interesting. Can I start with Hiro and Claire being in the future past? Hiro unable to understand English and Claire unable to hide that weave on her scalp are watching over the Nakamura family as baby Claire-bear is placed in the hands of Noah...mmm, I totally want to ride Noahs Ark. Anywhore, after Noah leaves to take the future queen of "Why Me" home to his wife Small Wonder and Hiro watch over Mr. and Mrs. Nakamura as they discuss, "The Catalyst" and giving it to Claire. Mama says she wants to keep it in the family, i.e. Hiro and Papa says 10 year old Hiro is too irresponsible. All he cares about is comic books and having fun and loving life which apparently no 10 year old should be preoccupied with. They somehow come the the conclusion that Hiro must inherit the powers, how they both come to the same conclusion while neither one of them speaks the same language I will never know, there by making Claire's life less complicated and Hiro the well...Hero. Claire decides to follower Noah and Hiro is accosted by his father who is under the impression that he is their new cook. He wants Hiro to make Mama Nakamura tamago (yes Kip..I know what tamago is) for breakfast. Being the selfish 10 year old he is he just makes his mother waffles and orange juice...Mmm...I haven't had waffles in a WHILE. He feeds her and they have a heart to heart once she finds out she's staring to the face of the grown son she'll never get the chance to see because she's dying. She gives him the catalyst, blah blah blah, dies, blah blah Hiro is sad-faced.

We are also reacquainted with the brooding Sylar which always made my bottle pop. The sensitive and torn Book Store stooge just didn't do it for me and neither did the road to redemption Sylar 2.0. He had to unfortunately kill Elle which was a long time coming. Her character development was garbage. It's almost as if Kristin Bell did a Hari-Kari just so she wouldn't have to continue to play the roll of a bipolar lightening rod. Instead her character was mutilated and the set ablaze viking style by her lover/nemesis/protege. Sylar decides that Noah's words haunted him...are Papa and Mama Petrelli simply using him as an incredibly hot pawn in their quest for dominance or is he really part of the family? Armed with Elle's cellphone, which somehow has an entire fucking Zagat guide of mutants people with special abilities Sylar decides to pay a visit to a lonely office drone to steal her powers. Now...I didn't so much have a problem with the scene that later develops as much as I had a problem with her power. You mean to tell me that this guy who has an entire arsenal of abilities covets a bitch who can sniff out a goddamn lie?! Are you serious?! Not just that but did this hoe become special the day before yesterday? I see a menacing man in my office out of no where saying, "I have a delivery for you." and my spider senses start tingling, the LAST thing I'm going to do is alert him to the fact that I smell his bullshit. Double U Tee EFF-AH!?! . She got what she deserved. She's a step up on the evolutionary ladder and she still doesn't have to common sense that a PSA on stranger danger would alert you to then perhaps she's played her part in the world. Darwin would be PISSED!Also, where WERE Sylar and Elle dropped off? The nexis of the entire world? He can travel to this womans office to kill her and then travel to Pinehurst in a matter of hours and still have time to change, UGH! I do love the scene when her co-workers popped in with a cake and she's just been butchers by her desk. Everyones expression is priceless and I got all jazzed when Sylar said, "Oh...cake" and closed the door. Something about an impending massacre always makes me feel warm and fuzzy.

On to more ranting. Next up? Daphne...oh dear dear Daphne. When this speedster slut showed up at the fucking messenger depot with Ando and Parkman in tow I had to press pause...did I really just see that happen? Did she ACTUALLY bring them with her? How is this possible? Was she carrying them on her tiny sparrow like shoulders or did she drag them across the city? Too many variables and not enough thinking by the writers in my opinion. Now why are all three of them at this location? They need to find the post-humorous work of the coked out clairvoyant to see what has become of Hiro.

Okay, sidebar. Why the hell did the nerds of the round table send these three out to search for these sketches like it was the fucking holy grail? I hope our Heroes don't trust those sketches in their hands or else they'll be returned covered in fan boy jizz.


The Heroes encounter the dispatcher who says, "I dunno nothing bout no stinkin' skeeetches" and then Parkman does his Parkinsons twitch and sees that he's lying. When the guy goes to get the sketches he decides to take a stroll instead. He high tails it on a bike and Daphne decides to take chase. Instead of just snatching it off of him she stands all triumphant in his way so that he must swerve from hitting her (first mistake, if you EVER have the opportunity to hit Daphne. Do it...ALWAYS...EVER!) Then she turns and gives us the fucking three quarter profile of triumphant cockiness and all I can think is.

"SMUG SLUT!"


The trio read over the sketches and find out it's entitled, "Hiro: lost in time" or some shit and all I can think is, "How? How is that possible? The only way he'd be able to do that is if Arthur Petrelli somehow finds them in the past at the exact time it was necessary for him to steal the catalyst from Hiro's ailing mommy but...he can't travel back in time. I mean if he could, wouldn't he have just bypassed all that searching and gone back in time and stolen it from her in the first place?" Ooh, Justin. You're so silly. This script isn't based upon any logic/continuity/or integrity. Jump back to the blah after heroes mommy takes a dirt nap(figuratively) he meets Claire outside on some balcony to discuss the catalyst. Out of NO WHERE the Papa Petrelli arrives and knocks Claire to the ground...NOT off the roof. He then takes ALL of Hiros powers and knocks him OFF the roof and sends Claire, "Back to the Future". Then we pan to Hiro holding on to some fucking flag pole for dear life.

All this time the uninteresting one has been traveling to NY, Hatian in tow, to assassinate his father. The Hatian tries to talk him out of it because he thinks Blander Petrelli is too fragile to commit matricide. They then infiltrated the Primatech Pinehurst and managed to get past their elite security team which consisted of like...a guy and a half or something, all the way up to the penthouse suite where the Petrelli patriarch was waiting patiently to be murdered? After some uninteresting dialogue and Arthur's show of RAW POWER! Sylar comes in to save the day, see also; Kill Arthur Petrelli. After his body orbed like a freaking white lighter off of Charmed I had had too much, my DVR knew what was best for me and decided the rest wasn't as important to see.

Friday, December 5, 2008

GOD / SANTA / THE BOOGEYMAN.

I was just thinking this morning, "You know. There is a bit of commonality between these figures."


Always Observing.


God: "God is watching us...from a distance"

Santa: "He sees you when you're sleeping
He knows when you're awake."

The Boogeyman:
"Whenever I close my eyes...
I can feel his hot breathe on my face."

~~~~~~~

The Swift Hand of Justice.


God: "AIDS"

Santa:
"Coal in the stocking or no gifts on christmas"

The Boogeyman:
"If you lie to your parents...
He will come for you in the still of night."

~~~~~~~

Networking!

God: "Appointed angels and saints to various tasks."

Santa: "A staff of elves, snowmen, reindeer, and lil helpers"

The Boogeyman: "The goblins that sleep in your underwear drawer,
The monster that hides in your closet
The mischievous minions that place glass in your pillow."

~~~~~~~

Behold..THE POWER!

God: "Was able to create man..."

Santa: "Is able to deliver present to every (good) child
Throughout the world in one night. Though having the
Good judgment not to enter war torn countries."

The Boogeyman: "Convinced your parents that he does not exits...
They are WRONG!"

~~~~~~~

Location, Location, Location

God: "Heaven"

Santa:
"The North Pole"

The Boogeyman: "Under your bed but he also has a timeshare
with the monster that lives in your closet
and the worms that burrow in your belly."

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Looks like Christmas came early...and ALL over her face!




Aubrey O'Day has gone to new heights of whore-dom. She decided to prove to Puffy and the rest of Danity Lame that she isn't a hoe bag by posing for Playboy. Apparently all this will be released sometime within the next month. Hide your boyfriends because she will reach through the pages of this magazine and trap their cocks with her coochie cobwebs. I'm just kidding, Aubrey's cooze hasn't had a day of in YEARS. If it bears any cobwebs it's only for Halloween decorations. I used to be so Pro this hoe. I HONESTLY thought that Diddy was pimping her ass out on the sly and turning her into a hoe stroll superstar but alas...this is ALL self induced. I hope honestly that she can find her way out of this bimbo black hole and actually do something with herself...Do SomeTHING...NOT SomeONE.

Ewwwww-AH!





Um...Boo!

Since Beyonce has married Jay Z and Solange has gone just about as far as her sister coattails will allow Tina Knowles needs a new project. With Dereon Girls "Mother May I" has taken on the mission of getting young girls everywhere ready for that Hoe Stroll. Go from playground to penthouse in under 10 years! These girls have got sass and plenty of class! I'm sorry, but the combination of makeup, feather boas, and pimp hats don't even belong on the trash that performed at Chaos; why they hell would you put them on a child?! You know what? Just go the extra mile and come out with a Dereon Girls lingerie line. Better yet, put these lil vixens on a pole and let them earn money the old fashioned way. Climb that corporate ladder GIRLFRIEND!

Water on the Knee? OPERATION! My Beautiful Mommy? OPERATION!




Can't they have a panel where the mother is rubbing Crisco and cocoa butter on her stretch marks and C-section scar, staring into the mirror at her daughter cowering behind her calves as she whispers, "Look what your burden of a birth did to me...LOOOOOK!" I think the kids would understand then why mommy needed a change. It would be like they were never born! "Mommy wants to erase all physical signs of your existence, I wear these marks, RED AS A SCARLET LETTER to remind me what a bottle of Bartlett & James, a quickie in the back of a Saab and a busted condom can do to a body!"

NOooooooooo-se!







Noooooooooo-se!

I can't believe it. Why would they ruin yet another one of my fondest childhood memories?! I guess they picked the right troll for the part. At least they got the nose right, this slut got a chop shop schnoz job and she still came out looking like Angelica Houston in "Witches" or that red headed beaver bumper from Fraggle Rock. With all these remakes going on I'm thoroughly concerned about the "integrity" of the Hollywood hit machine. A Nightmare on Elm Street remake/prequel, Prom Night, and TV Favorites (of people that aren't me) like Beverly Hills 90210 and Charlies Angels aren't even safe. I swear to the all mighty Gods of Glamor that if they recast and produce another Melrose Place I'm bombing studios and pissing on Aaron Spellings grave. I mean if they are going to do it figuratively they might as well go the extra mile and get it done right! I can't Imagine anyone playing Amanda Woodward Like Heather Locklear. Evil, Manipulative, Constant wardrobe changer.

P to the S. The image is so large because I feel you need to recognize the face of evil when it's staring into your soul.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Electrical Current...Hallowed Be Thy Name.



"Lift my emotions and banish all my shame..."

Sometimes I find it helps for me to type with my eyes closed. It's difficult for me to actually put into words the way something makes me FEEL. Though this hasn't always been the case; I have had to evolve and adapt so that my ramblings writings mirror the muck and mire in my mind as an accurate representation.

Deja Vu...It think I dreamt it, a long time ago. This is always a strange phenomenon for me because it leads me to wonder what Deja Vu means, What does it mean in this situation? how am I supposed dissect this? Am I supposed to dissect this? Why did I feel so...connected? I've often thought that Deja Vu is our "Guides" "Spirits" "Higher Power" letting you know you are where you are meant to be. Almost like a road sign say, "Proceed, you are on the right path."

I had one of the most intense feelings of Deja Vu today. I was reading something a friend had written, I thought, "What a dork, lol." and I imagined how they would respond if I typed that. Which then led to this strange premonition of a succession of events that lead me to this thought...that this meant something more than what the surface reflected. As if staring into a mirrored pond and suddenly realizing it's an ocean of thought, do I jump inside and explore the coral reefs and seafare? Or do I just trace my fingers along the edge and watch the ripples expand into a thousand tiny tidal waves?

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

If you didn't see this coming you NEED some new peepers.

Just call me Ms. Cleo because I saw this shit coming from a MILE away.During taping of an episode of the Tyra Banks Show Tyra announces that she plans to make Isis Tsunami's dream of becoming a REAL WOMAN come true by presenting her with a free vaginoplasty. "This is not happening." Isis was heard saying, "I feel like I'm about to wake up." well bitch maybe you should. Wake the FUCK UP! You were USED! They had you on that show as a plot point and a "success" story. Don't you know there is no such thing as a free lunch?! Tyra is going to have you on call night and day as her surrogate snuu snuu. When one of her dates decides he wants a lil something something and she has to give it up all she has to do is dial a number and you'll be placed in her dark bedroom, ass naked and unconscious for this man to use.

Tyra is quickly becoming the next Oprah in waiting. I fear the day when I type her name on Mozilla Firefox and it's not underlined as a misspelling. I always judge that as a sign of importance. It's our job to keep her humble...by rubbing her face in her failure.

Monday, November 17, 2008

Wanda Sykes....Gay?

So apparently Wanda Sykes is a les. and for some reason people we astonished...Really?



Not to say that you can't be FOR Gay Marriage and be straight because that would just be silly. I'm just saying...she's wearing a freaking blazer...a freaking snake skin blazer. The prosecution rests.

I would personally have been more pleased to see Queen Latifah come out and admit that she likes to wet her face with peach cobbler.



As evidenced in her early film/television career the queen could only stretch her acting muscles as far as her talent would allow. In her OWN TV Show, "Living Single" she was eclipsed by a hilarious cast. In this movie, "Set it off" she fell RIGHT into the roll of a hardcore gat poppin gangsta lesbian bitch. Maybe she took inspiration from some of her fellow rappers...but then we have reality.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Musical Musings.

I think more than anything in my life music has been a catalyst for my emotions. Not that I am unable to emote, more so that music is the lyrical lubricant for me. Whether I'm on the elliptical at the gym and motivating myself with

DJ Tocadiscos - Freak



or laying in bed and sliding towards slumber while listening to

Lentil by Sia



It's all relative as to what I relate to but in the past few weeks I have been obsessed with French music. Particularly a singer named Camille.

Her sound is often times hypnotic. Her second album Le Fil (the thread) resonates most with me. Throughout it there is a sound. A soft hum. almost like a reverberation of sound bouncing between wires and amplifiers like an eternal echo in an empty cavern. Far off and distant but always present and were you unfamiliar you would think this was unintentional...it was not. The tone is B. It is a low level drone that connects one song to the next allowing the audience to appreciate the entire album as a story of sort. This album is also note worthy because of her use of sound; her own in particular. She uses her voice as an instrument to form concussive beats and rasping flares as opposed to a drum or a snare. It is often compared to Bjorks Medulla album in this respect. She also has a live album of songs entitled Live au Trianon which is...heaven. It's almost as if you're sitting in an empty room with this woman on stage, the band hidden behind a curtain but prepared for whatever she is prepared to perform, all for you.



I've also found this melodic masterpiece called, "No Trace Of Grey" by Anja Garbarek a Norwegian singer-songwriter. Originally heard (by me) in the trailer for the movie Angel-A by luc Besson. The song is lovely in it's simplicity. Barely a short story, more a simple thought.

"I decided to stop...I decided to look up."



"What are they doing...in Heaven today?"

How amazing is it that, depending on how the song came about, it is that a simple thought could create something so incredible.

I imagine laying on my back in a vacant field, wet grass licking at my limbs like tiny tongues, outlining me like a snow angel thawed till spring. The blue sky sporadic with clouds and not a soul for miles. Deserted but not lonely. Alone but comforted by the silence of my surroundings with only the sound of my breathe and the beating of my heart to keep me company. The rhythm of solitary solace. Peace. Barely a soft breeze...a whisper of wind passing over my lips and mouth like a lovers fingertips...

...Speaking of.



Poe's Fingertips. A classic favorite from my past. Before I even knew passion for another person I knew that this song spoke to what that would mean for me. The yearning for the touch..

...the foreign touch of an unfamiliar lover. Someone you know only from afar and the tension built after weeks, months, ages of longing looks and flirtation exploding into a slow bliss of erotic exploration. Waiting with baited breathe for them to acknowledge. The conspiratorial glance that confirms their affection. The first kiss is almost like a postage stamp; saying, "I'm ready, take me away." Not too fast. Slow...passionate in their labor. Wanting to let the palm and fingers remember every curve and shape of the body. Finding the hallows often neglected; the nape of the neck, the slope of the jaw, the curve of a hip graced gently by fingertips that reach beneath elastic waist bands and praying the the promise of passion. It's like imagining a persons breathe passing over your navel like a soft kiss turning you into...

"...A Junkie"



...But maybe it's not that simple. Maybe you haven't coveted this persons touch for ages, maybe it's been minutes, less than an hour and you know that your mouth belongs on them whether it be respectively their mouth or places much more lascivious in intent. The almost paralyzing pleasure of sex with a stranger. Something in them screams for your attention. The cool coy smile they toss in your direction. Seducing you without words and breaking down your defenses into a thousand pieces until they lay at your feet. Crushed like glass into powdered fiber ready for you to inhale and turn into energy a well spring of adrenaline. Letting you glow like a soft candle beside a bed cloaked in obsidian dark. The one night stand. Pule pounding pleasure ringing in your temples and blood like a symphony of seduction.

Um...wow. That is not a road I intended to traverse. I think I'll grab my bags and hop off here.