Sunday, July 28, 2013

Reasons to go and watch Pacific Rim.


1. It knows what it is and acts accordingly.

Have you ever been to watch a film about cool things and then found out the director sneakily weaved a bunch of shit things into it? Things like 'themes' and 'twists'? So many times I've seen a preview that has blown my mind only to go and watch the film and find that the reason the preview was so great was because it didn't represent the finished product; which is a shit film full of 'themes' and 'twists' and 'social commentary'. Film studios should have to post disclaimers at the start of their previews if they're going to touch their work inappropriately in between the preview and release date.

Pacific Rim's preview promises one thing; epic battles between giant robots and colossal alien lifeforms with a loose emphasis on plot/conviction and a gaping wide opening for a ramped up sequel somewhere in the foreseeable future, and that's exactly what I got from the finished product plus heaps more.

2. It has everything, including a classic Japanese revenge story.

Pacific Rim's pre-apocalyptic setting is a great mechanism for selling widespread hopelessness and engaging it's audience for the mere fact that humans enjoy watching the world fall to shit (on screen) and fantasizing about they'd theoretically react to whatever it is causing the apocalypse. Just in case that wasn't enough, Guillermo Del Toro throws a good old-fashioned Japanese vengeance sub-plot in there, portrayed through the pint-sized technician/martial artist/whatever Mako Mori, whose shy and polite demeanor hardly masks her appetite for inter-species revenge. 
Now, Japanese revenge normally always involves swords, right? Couple this with the fact that no average sized sword would be an effective means of exacting revenge in this particular case and it suddenly becomes very important that we move onto my next point.

3. Japanese sensibilities + Gargantuan Robot battles = Boat Sword.

http://wac.450f.edgecastcdn.net/80450F/screencrush.com/files/2013/04/pacrim9.gif

Yes, Boat Sword. If you see one movie this year where a 300ft robot wields a freight ship like a lightweight Katana, make sure it's Pacific Rim. Seriously, there will never be anything better than Boat Sword in any of our lifespans.

There's another pretty cool sword in Pacific Rim, one that might have more of a correlation to the revenge theme than Boat Sword, but I mean....come on.....it's a fricken Boat Sword.

 http://wac.450f.edgecastcdn.net/80450F/screencrush.com/files/2013/04/pacrim8.gif

4. When a Kaiju screams, you hear it and when a Kaiju gets rocket-punched, the Kaiju definitely feels it and you can feel how it would feel as well.

What I'm saying is, the fight scenes are orchestrated with such passion that the audience has no choice but to be in the fight as well, or at least watching it comfortably from a safe distance. Every rocket punch connection, every Boat Sword (!) parry and every colossal suplex through every Hong Kong skyscraper will send shivers through your entire being and elicit feels that only a Kaiju/Jaeger battle can. Also, the rain is very rainy.


5. Because Idris Elba.

Imagine a film where Idris Elba walks around in pea-coats and dapper high-ranking military wear, barking orders at lowly Jaeger technicians, delivering inspirational anti-apocalypse speeches whilst protecting his adopted Japanese daughter from the harsh realities of long-term Kaiju resistance and acting as a mentor to the next generation of Earth defenders.


Congratulations, you have just imagined Pacific Rim.
 
6. It's Pacific Rim.

Seriously. Who watches a movie like this and reaches any sort of critical conclusion aside from "Well, that was DEFINITELY Pacific Rim!". Sure, the macho main character is all but devoid of genuine emotion, there's probably some cohesion/plot holes to be found (like every other movie ever) and there's a few slices of (liberally applied) cheese throughout the film's (immaculate) pacing, but when you're willing to sit through all that because you know that on either side a Category IV Kaiju is roaming around just waiting to feel the wrath of a Boat Sword, you know exactly where Pacific Rim's intentions lay and thus, it's beautiful, nuclear-powered vortex turbine heart.


Thursday, July 25, 2013

Perth traffic getting you down? I'm here for you.

The other day I was at my house and all of a sudden I didn't want to be at my house anymore, I actually wanted to be at the deli buying junk food and toothpaste. So I did what any sane person would do and got in the car to drive to the deli down the road from my house. Everything was going swimmingly until I forgot that the traffic in Perth is suddenly so bad that it actually took me 15 YEARS to get to the deli when it normally takes me about 4 seconds. By that stage I didn't even want junk food anymore on account of being 15 years older than I was when I left and too mature for junk food. It was the crappiest day I'd had in almost two decades but it did give me plenty of time to think of some great methods to help you all avoid being giant suckers stuck in traffic like everyone else these days. Please take them seriously, any one of these tips could save your life and maybe even some of your time.

1. Don't purchase a car(But don't steal one either)

Buying a car is one of the most irresponsible things you can do next to owning a house and securing full-time employment. If you buy a car or already own a car you need to take a long hard look in the mirror and ask yourself why you're consciously contributing to Perth's malignant traffic pandemic. Don't take my word for it though, here are some maths: 

Time ~ money. 
Wallet - money = car. 
Car + traffic = time. 
Traffic = time - money. 

∴ Car = Investment in rape. 

If you don't purchase a car or associate with anyone that owns one, you immediately diminish your chances of encountering/contributing to traffic by 100%. It's just simple fact. 


2. If you own a car, catch public transport.

It's no secret that car owners come form a sheltered, anti-social breed of human content to remain in gridlock and lockstep in unison inside their little mobile shells every day until the end of time. From this ignorance stems a reluctance to seek alternate forms of transport, forms of transport that will actually benefit them in every way possible and most importantly, keep them out of traffic's slow-moving and completely unrelenting death grip of eternal death and suffering. Those that utilize public transport not only arrive at work on time 12% more often than their car-driving counterparts, but are also 300% more likely to see something dangerous or confronting on their travels. Did you know Transperth is the 587th cleanest public transport initiative in the world? Stabbings are also down a to an almost insignificant 550 a year. You're basically asking for a shanking if you drive a car!

3. Don't ever go anywhere, ever.

You've got everything you need at home anyway, right? Why risk hours of sitting on your lazy backside doing next to nothing in traffic when you could be accomplishing so much more at home, namely sitting on your lazy backside doing next to nothing and not being stuck in stupid, fart-faced Perth traffic.


4. Ride a bike, fatty!

Remember bikes? No not those fancy, technical exercise bikes ya bloody fitness freaks! I'm talking about those two-wheeled, pedaled contraptions that all those healthy people are commuting safely on along the numerous marked bicycle paths next to the freeways and main roads that you're guaranteed to get trapped on if you're not riding a bicycle. Why waste away in your little gas-filled fatmobile when you could be enjoying the fresh rain on a brisk Winter's dawn or the glorious sun on a generously warm midsummer morning? Remember, getting to your destination all sweaty and exhausted and smelly is still getting to your destination. Find thirty like the government tells you all the time!


5. Leave for work stupidly early.

If you are one of the vehicle owning scum currently infesting Perth's metropolitan area, the least you could do is show the common courtesy of waking up a little bit earlier than usual to save everyone else the hassle of being stuck in the vile, scummy traffic you produce every other day. And don't think 30 minutes is going to cut it either. If you start work at 9am, set yourself an alarm for 2am the night prior. It might not completely guarantee you a smooth, traffic-less journey, but the 7 hour grace period will at least *ensure that you arrive within 15 minutes of either side of your 9am start.

*based on current Perth road congestion as of July, 2013.

6. Sleep at work/engage in relations with higher ranked co-workers.

Depending on your employer's stance on such matters, sleeping at your place of work can shave minutes if not hours off your travel time and nullify traffic encounters significantly. "But there's no beds where I work!" you all cry. Honestly, do I have to do EVERYTHING for you? Office workers sleep under your desk, retail assistants can construct makeshift beds out of clothes or whatever it is they sell, baristas can utilize coffee bean sacks and Hotel staff will find that an empty elevator provides sufficient leg room for a good night's shut-eye.

Engaging in workplace infidelity won't do squat for your traffic dramas, but it will definitely improve your chances of obtaining permission to have sleep-overs at your work. Bonus points if you can convince your boss to spend the night with you at rancho employo.


So what are you waiting for? Get outta here and avoid that traffic!

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Is Nicholas Van Orton the first 'fuckboy'?

*This post is dedicated to my crazy friend Ash. I may not have even noticed this if it weren't for his very timely adoption of the term and the great times we've had using it in context. :)

Ok so let me begin with a brief classification of the derogatory adjective Fuckboy.

Urban Dictionary defines fuckboy as: The worst insult to a male, basically callin' him a bitch or pussyboy but not in those words. You should be ready to fight after being insulted like that. It originated in the south. 

Whilst the Southern origins of the term are logistically impossible to trace, popular rap glossary rapdict.org also observes that: The term "Fuck Boy" originates from Atlanta, GA. It is used to mean a weak man who can't get right. It can also be used as a derogatory term against one's enemies.

To summarize, fuckboys are highly unsavory characters who pose an immediate threat to the comfort of those around them, either through a lack of knowledge in any relevant field or an overt passion for ruining things that were great before they became associated with them. Fuckboys can also be classified by their obvious inability to not be fuckboys.

Not taking this particular post into account, the term fuckboy has been loosely defined and found recent notoriety through the audible medium of gangster rap and the thousands of forums and blogs that celebrate gangster rap as a medium and a lifestyle. Many gangster rappers have adopted the term to call out other gangster rappers as a means of questioning their mettle and subsequently inciting a response from their target; a response that will more often than not contain the word fuckboy.

I've included an example of the term being utilized in it's essence from a track titled 'Summer's Mine' by gangster rap artist Rick Ross. The track was released as a supposed response to a diss from fellow gangster rapper Young Jeezy, a diss I can only assume contained the word fuckboy as well:


The conviction in Ross' voice when using the term illustrates how passionately he wants Young Jeezy to believe he is, in actual fact, a fuckboy.

For interests sake please find an example of the term's prevalence resulting from a basic Google search below:
Note the versatility of the term as it is used in multiple contexts to similar effect.

Now before I continue I would like to formally state that Michael Douglas is not a fuckboy. He is so far from being a fuckboy that he could almost be classified as the complete opposite, which I guess would be an Abstinentgirl. Yet I digress, What does Michael Douglas have to do with a derogatory term rarely seen outside the realms of gangster rap and the channels through which it is discussed?

Everything, actually.

Not only is Michael Douglas' association with the term greater than that of any recording artist or message board member past or present, he may just be (unknowingly) responsible for the term's inauguration and in turn, I might personally be responsible for liberating an example of the term that predates any use of it by anyone, be it either inside or outside the state of Atlanta, GA.

I came across this revelation through a chance second viewing of the critically acclaimed 1997 Thriller The Game. In the film Michael Douglas plays Nicholas Van Orton, a successful stockbroker (or something) who is clearly bored by his wealth and also affected by the death of his father via suicide on Nicholas' birthday. Concerned about his brother's well-being and the lack of excitement in his affluent existence, Nicholas' brother Conrad (played convincingly by a young-looking Sean Penn) gives him a very special birthday gift in the form of a reality stimulation voucher from a company called 'Consumer Recreation Services'. Shitstorms follow and Michael realises that 'The Game' kind of sucks because he almost gets killed a couple of times but also that it's pretty cool because it made his life more exciting or whatever.

Plot synopsis aside, I did a double take during a scene known as 'Flourescent Graffiti' in which Nicholas returns home to find his mansion has been trashed and some rascals have done heaps of glow in the dark graffiti inside it. Here's the scene, starting at the 5:06 mark:


Did you see it?


Make no mistake, this scene is the defining moment in which Nicholas Van Orton is publicly lauded as the world's very first fuckboy. It was difficult to take the rest of the film seriously from this point on as I struggled to grasp the immense implications of my discovery and as a result the rest of the film played out like this:


And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, is how Nicholas Van Orton became the first ever fuckboy at the hands of the little assholes that tagged his house up in the movie The Game. I hope I've helped to shed some light on this very powerful topic and I invite you to conduct your own research regarding the origin of the term; even though my case is concrete and completely indisputable, perhaps somewhere out there in the furthest reaches of time and space and movies, you can find the very first fuckboy.

:)

Thursday, September 13, 2012

The iPhone 5: You're going to use it a lot.

This morning I woke up and checked my Facebook and people were hyping the shit out of the iPhone 5. I didn't even know the iPhone 5 was ready yet but then I realized it's been about 15 minutes since the iPhone 4 came out so we're obviously due for a new one. I've gone to the liberty of editing Apple's spec sheet because it didn't read very well and made me feel like I was being sold something I already had by a team of youth co-ordinators. 

 






Tuesday, September 11, 2012

'She showing the tattoo'

If you have an Instagram account chances are you're one of the 2.6 million people following successful female pop artist, Rihanna. Like many other celebrity Instagram accounts, Rihanna's online presence gives her followers the opportunity to see what she's up to without them having to resort to the old ladder and binoculars methods of yonder. Most celebrity Instagram feeds are filled with the same mundane content; including safe photos of heavily accessorized pets, totally sweet organic juice bars, crooked horizons, over-edited selfies, entry level motivational posters and organized collections of possessions the likes of which we'll never come to possess.

Badgalriri, however, tends to reside on the outskirts of the predictable Hollywood brand of social networking and has employed a much more personal approach, giving her peanut gallery of Instagram addicts a very personal insight into her daily life with a regularly updated feed that advertises the life of a hugely successful female artist with the world at her feet and simultaneously broadcasts the struggles of a young woman emotionally cracked under the monolithic weight of fame and worldwide adoration.

A couple of days a go Rihanna took to Instagram with an ode to her late grandmother. The image shows two shots, one of a tender moment between herself and her grandmother and the other, a photo of a new tattoo in dedication to her recent loss. Now, I'm not a fan of Rihanna's music at all; I can name two of her songs and probably mispronounce a third one if you put me on the spot. I am on the other hand, a fan of her genuine realness and constant abrasion to the cliched, tragic-but-not-too-tragic female pop goddess stereotype, which is obviously why I'm following her on Instagram. With that said, I was able to identify the meaning and significance of the above image within seconds of scrolling across it, not just because of it's blatant clarity, but also because of the fact she'd posted a borderline NSFW photo of the new tattoo not hours prior. Assuming Rihanna's astronomical fan-base had been following her for the short period of time between the posting of these two photos (a safe assumption considering she's had more than 2 million followers for longer than a few hours), one could only believe that they, being far more dedicated fans than I am, would understand the image accordingly right?


Perhaps not...
That's ok though, maybe missrekik is part of that minute percentage of fans who began following Rihanna inside the timeframe between the first post of the tattoo and.......the second post of the tattoo. Missrekik's enquiry was the most coherent of the thousands that appeared within moments of the post so I began checking intermittently to make sure that someone would clarify the image for her so she could get on with her day.



Whoa, whoa! Hold up now! Not only did missrekik have her confusion put to rest by one thoughtful follower, she had her expectations smashed by four consecutive clarity bombs all dropped within nanoseconds of eachother! All is well and it seems and we can all get back to our jobs and families and life outside of Rihanna's Instagram profile.

Then it began:

Yep we got it, thanks again for clear.....


Ok, if you'd just look up we can contin........




Well, it's not so much that we're fucking idiots. It's more that we already know it's the......









Oh for fuc.....
Yes! You are getting it! You just explained exactly what's happening!







Wow.



Holy crap! Does kensington_xoxo have something to do with solving intricate instagram mysteries?

Yelling doesn't work either.

Yes she has. Remember the photo she posted showing the new tat she got dedicated to her grandma? Check that one out!


Yaaaay!!

A wild _gingercunt appears!

...........A wild thund3rpussy appears!


24 hours and ten thousand explanations later apexradio doesn't know wtf that lower pic is supposed to be and RIHANNA is the zooted one? WOW WOW WOW WOW!





  

I'd never seen anything like it before and I couldn't look away. What began as a touching tribute between two people, a tribute of spiritual implications that go beyond anything that can be processed by a camera phone, had suddenly turned into an internationally adopted game of Lets All Say The Same Thing At The Same Damn Time.

Granted the phenomenon is probably nothing more than a bunch of people posting at the same time on a profile that gets thousands of views a second, but imagine if someone not previously familiar with Instagram and it's inner workings came across this type of fuckery? In hundreds of years time when future archeologists are researching our history, I pray for their sake that they don't find this.

I also hope that they aren't made aware of one charashepard, whose contributions to the open forum associated with Rihanna's post include the following:

 







Charashepard: Mother, entrepreneur, business owner and, whenever she gets a spare 5 hours, highly unstable Instagram user and Rihanna fan.

smh.