Serious Thinks Thought Here

By Dr. Seuss

Five young people were holed up in a shack,
They let out some demons they couldn’t put back.

Where to put them? Let’s lock one under the floor.
We can slice them and dice them; hand me that chainsaw.

Oops, one has an ax. Another a knife.
Oh what a night! Oh what a life!

The walls are now bloody and starting to smell gamey,
It’s Bruce Campbell’s fault, I tell you. Well, him and Sam Raimi.

So, I’m leaving this theater. Give me my hat and my scarf.
No, give me that bucket. I now have to - - - -

Is it still called “live blogging” when you are making fun of a program (oh, like maybe the Oscars, for example, hypothetically speaking of course) on every form of social media when you aren’t really watching it at all?

Or haven’t watched it for the past several years.

Or haven’t seen a movie nominated for an Academy Award.

Or haven’t seen an actual movie.

Or own a TV.

Or have a blog.

Or remember what his original point was.

As a kid I always wished that I could live in the Land of Oz. Forever. Along with the Tin Man, Cowardly Lion and especially the Scarecrow, with whom I felt some kind of kindred spirit (that’s right, we both have diplomas and our heads stuffed with straw).

In fact, while watching the film, all I could think to myself was “Is that Dorothy crazy? Why the hell would she ever want to leave a great place like that? To return to Dutch Bowl, Kansas, located somewhere in Tornado Alley just to live with a bunch of Republican goobers?” Made no sense to me. Even as a 5-year-old.

As a full-time resident of Oz, I imagined, I would have the right to vote for Mayor of Munchkin Land and even for Wizard. Perhaps if I had political ambitions of my own, I might run for one of those offices myself.

Under those circumstances, I wondered what sort of campaign promises I would make. I don’t suppose health care is much of an issue there (nobody seemed to get sick or hurt during the movie—only dead). However, they did appear to have problems with flying monkeys and apple-chucking trees with pissy attitudes. Can you say “internment camps”? I’m convinced that would have pulled in the Emerald City vote for sure.

On the other hand, I do imagine the taxes are rather high in the wonderful land of Oz. Did you ever take a gander at the condition of the Yellow Brick Road? Not a pothole to be seen. That kind of infrastructure doesn’t come cheap, my friend.

Don Cheadle stars in a movie about complex race relations among people living in the manger of an LA nativity scene.

I call it “CRECHE”.

(Nobody at that other site thought it was funny either.)

Of course I recall my stint on the grand jury. Asking to have the charges reviewed. Engaging in meaningful discussions about the law. Poking holes in testimony. Arguing with both my fellow jurors and Assistant District Attorneys. Wait—that was “12 Angry Men”. My mistake.

Q: What did David Cronenberg say to Jeff Goldblum?

A: Man, you so fly!

Alright, this joke doesn’t work on so many levels. First of all, even if David Cronenberg was the type to speak in 1990s hip-hop vernacular (and I bet he isn’t), this would have been something he might have said to a woman and not Jeff Goldblum. Unless David Cronenberg was gay (which I don’t believe he is, not that there’s anything wrong with that). Plus, as everybody knows, Jeff Goldblum was married during the time he was working on The Fly, so he would have been off the market in either case.

Setup: The Mars Rover gets ready to land, only to notice that the closest parking space is on Venus. So it turns around and goes home.

Loosely based on my last trip to the mall.

I would like to review the cinematic classic, Ice Age 3: Continental Drift. Have you seen the previous two installments? No matter. Unless you are some kind of devolved troglodyte, you should be able to pick up the plot quickly. FORGETTING it will be another matter altogether. Unfortunately.

Apparently, we are supposed to be charmed by the choice of celebrities voicing the animated characters. Yes, I am enthralled by the realization that Prehistoric Rodent #5 is, in actuality, George Clooney. I’m sure it will be one of his cherished thespian moments as well.

But what good is seeing a movie such as this without the requisite yelling toddler sitting in front of me? “Why did the elephant do that, Mommy?” “Can I eat the candy on the floor, Mommy?” “Is this a poopie, Mommy?”

It was at that point when I decided to forgo my Zagnut bar. Can you blame me?

Probably the best part of the film is the relatively short running time. True, I will never get that 1 1/2 hours of my life back; however, left to my own devices, I probably would have wasted that time writing, napping, having sex or eating a good meal.

So, at least it wasn’t a total loss.

This morning I woke up too early from thinking about

1. the lunacy of my job and

2. the poignancy of Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows, part 2.

I know. Where have I been all these months? When it comes to movies, by the time I actually get around to seeing something, it already has been labeled an all-time classic.

In any event, the Snape Backstory segment just broke my heart and I just can’t stop thinking about it.