VERN
TELL'S IT LIKE IT IS #45
Man, is it just me or is everybody
else SICK AND FUCKING TIRED OF HEARING ABOUT FUCKING SURVIVOR!?
I never even SEEN the fucking show
I still gotta be treated like it's the dearest thing to my heart. The one
thing that makes me a man. The very center of my religion. I get up in
the morning, my clock radio's telling me about Survivor. I turn on Good
Morning America or Today Show or some shit, they got a panel of experts
talking about how they kept the ending a secret, what are they gonna do
now, interview some naked guy that was on the show, interview some gal's
dad, show clips from last night's episode of Dave Letterman where they
also interviewed the same retards about the same boring bullshit.
And is that unfortunate or what, to
have a fine comedian like dave letterman forced to spend half his show
talking about some other show the network is trying to promote. I bet the
cbs suits had meetings all about it, and they probaly came up with a catchy
name for the format, like comedmercial or infolaffs or synerhilarity. It's
too bad entertainment tonight is a syndicated program instead of a cbs
program. Wouldn't it be beautiful to hear, "Coming up later on ET,
we have an exclusive preview of tomorrow night's ET, where we will show
a clip from tonight's episode of David Letterman, where Dave will discuss
yesterday's episode of Survivor. But first, Jim J. Bullock's tragic allergies
that almost brought his Survivor watching to a premature end."
Look, I don't give a fuck if some
jackass ate a rat and then they took a vote and somebody got kicked off
or whatever. I care about that garbage exactly as much as I care about
Pokeyman or Harry Potter or ninja turtles. ZILCH. And as an american citizen
I believe I have a right to not hear about that bullshit. This is a country
of individuals. Individuals who are able to revel in their own hobbies,
their own passions. Individuals who do not want to hear about fucking survivor.
STOP fucking talking about fucking Survivor!
I tried to stay out of this but I
just can't hold it in anymore. I've had enough. I tried not to mention
the reality tv. Everybody else is talking about the reality tv, why do
I have to add to the pile. But the reality tv had to pull a home invasion.
And a man's home is a man's castle, if I can't keep you out of my home
I'm going to AT THE VERY LEAST write a column complaining about you. Asshole.
Fuck you.
A while back I wrote a column about
the topic of America's elbow grease, or lack thereof. This is one of the
cultural problems that all americans are facing, is getting up off their
lazy asses and doing something. Anything.
But every fucking year something like
this comes along, some jackass gets lazy and unimaginative and hits a jackpot,
and then every other fucker or degenerate in hollywood spends the next
six months trying to copy it.
So one asshole imports a japanese
cartoon, every other asshole imports a japanese cartoon. One guy makes
an american version of some british game show, and then everybody else
does it.
A fucking game show! No more characters,
no more stories. Just trivia. Cancel the other shows. make room for more
geography quizzes.
Now they go to the next level. No,
importing game shows is too much trouble. Let's import the concept of putting
a bunch of retards on an island and taping them. Or in a house. And next
it's gonna be on a boat and in a closet and on top of a flagpole.
It's not even like it's minimalism
or Dogme 95 or some shit. These are high budget shows. They spend alot
of money on a lot of nothing. Jesus you fuckers if you're gonna do this
do it right. Set up a camcorder on a piece of bamboo, give those fuckers
one piece of meat, sharpen their teeth and let 'em loose. None of this
high tech bullshit and corporate synergy and catch phrases. Is that your
final answer? Do you wanna use a lifeline? Do you wanna shove this fad
up your ass? Do it on the cheap. It will be more real, and you can use
the extra money to hire Richard Pryor to write a new movie for Clint Eastwood
and Chris Tucker to do together.
Believe me those shows are gonna start
fucking like rabbits. Or multiplying or whatever the saying goes. I know
any second now it's gonna get personal, they're gonna do a prison themed
show and it's gonna be on. They're gonna get a bunch of white collar fucks
in orange jumpsuits and see what it's "really" like to be in
lockup. Even if they try to hire me as a celebrity judge or a consultant
or something I'm gonna just give 'em the royal salute. But they're gonna
do it anyway and it'll probaly be called SHANK or something and then every
talk show in the world is gonna make 8 jokes per episode about "Where
is the anal rape on this show? Ha ha ha get it how cynical I am."
They already tried a high school show,
a new orleans show. They've had a cop show for years, and a border patrol.
They're planning a run across the country show and a make your own movie
show and I'm sure every other kind of show that they already do in europe
they'll do here under a hipper name. Before you know it there will be so
much reality on tv that reality will start turning into tv shows. People
will start acting out their favorite episodes of the A-Team or Green Hornet
or whatever, and they'll make a reality show about people who act out episodes
of green hornet, and then people will act out the episodes of that.
And after a while we'll get tired
of reality-tv and tv-reality and tv-reality-reality-tv. And everywhere
we'll look we'll see magazines and tv shows and web sights and watercooler
conversations about what happened on this episode about what happened in
that episode of the show about people remembering episodes of green hornet.
And a few of us who haven't been swept up in the fad, we'll be crying for
the return of the fucking sitcom. OH JESUS PLEASE give us some show about
a bunch of beautiful people and a gay guy who work at a magazine and toss
snappy insults at each other. At least some idiot has to WRITE that garbage.
PLEASE LORD I WOULD DO ANYTHING TO STOP WATCHING THESE PEOPLE VOTING EACH
OTHER OFF.
And in six months time the fad will
have dropped dead like a zombie thrown off a bridge and everyone will feel
safe again and people will laugh at the idea that those reality shows were
ever popular. Ha ha, it was 2000, that was what was popular then. Ha ha.
But it will be out there. Waiting.
Growing. Planning its arrival. The next fad. The one that is worse than
the reality shows, that was worse than the game shows, that was worse than
whatever was before that that was worse than what was before that. It goes
in a cycle and the cycle is pointed straight down the commode.
Sorry to end on a bummer people, but...
flush. We don't have a culture anymore, we just have leftovers from some
other culture, that we picked out of the garbage. And if Survivor is the
best you guys can find, you better pick another dumpster.
--Vern
P.S. stick it up your ass assholes
P.P.S. Not my readers, I am talking
to Survivor when I say stick it up your ass assholes
VERN TELL'S IT LIKE IT IS #46
Hey guys how's it goin sorry about
last week's column. SOMEBODY woke up on the wrong side of the bed, huh?
Jesus.
This week I thought I would do something
kinda special in honor of the Labor Day holiday. In honor of the people.
You see, there are many individuals in the world, but the ones I feel the
strongest for are the working men and women. The people who bust their
ass muscles every day, usually for some asshole in a tie or for some soulless
corporation. Or even better, there are the people who work hard and don't
get much respect and don't get paid shit, but in a field they are passionate
about. And not working for a chain, or for the man. For some ma an pa type
business is what they call it, a small locally owned place.
To me it is very important to support
these type of businesses because they aren't part of this bigger is better,
let's control the world type attitude. I don't want some fucker in indiana
or some place telling his people to tell their people to tell their district
managers to tell their general managers to tell their assistant managers
to tell their employees that they'll get fired if they don't wear the right
color of slacks for now on. And I DEFINITELY don't want that same fucknut
making creative type decisions about what foods I want to eat, what movies
I want to see in a theater or rent at home. Because chances are that individual
didn't count on a motherfucker like Vern ever coming along.
Well I'm here asshole. Look out.
You know who I'm talking about. Individuals
like Blockbuster Entertainment. Like Hollywood videos. And etc. These are
the ones that stroll in like the mob and cut the balls off of every small
time video slinger they can sniff out. These fuckers would be willing to
lose money just to put somebody out of business. If there was a video store
in the middle of the desert with one customer per month, they'd move in
and shut em down. These are people who quite clearly don't believe in the
karma.
How many locally owned video stores
can you even name in your neighborhood? And how long do you think they'll
last without your constant support? They might be a little more expensive
- they have to be. But chances are they are better. More personal. They
stock weirder and smaller titles. They have old dusty shit from the '80s
that's long out of print and comes in a huge box with a bad painting or
blurry photo for the cover. They give away their posters, or if they're
real outlaws, sell em. They don't have cut versions of videos. They get
the unrated when available. And they got some pothead working behind the
counter that talks kind of slow but has been working there long enough
that he knows his shit when it comes to the films of home video.
So today I went into a small place
across the street from two blockbusters. And it was very fucking slow.
I felt sorry for this dude who has to work on Labor Day, and because a
small business doesn't have as much money to toss around as the blockbusters
of the world, he wasn't even getting holiday pay.
I was trying to figure out what I
could do to make him feel better. Maybe make him feel more important. Because
these are people who are putting themselves on the line in the name of
unrated. (Does Blockbuster carry the unrated Beyond the Mat? No.
Does this place? Yes. And not the r-rated.)
So I figured, what better than to
introduce this individual to the world through the medium of the interactive
computing. So the dude agreed to a one-on-one interview. Mano a mano.
VERN: Uh, hi. Hahem. Name's Vern. Hello. This is
the, uh, the video store interview. Let's go.
JERRY: I... I don't... what is this for, again?
V: I'm a Writer, I have a web sight, movie web sight.
J: Oh yeah.
V: Name's Vern.
J: Yeah.
V: I was... I was just wondering what it's like, you know, in
the video industry here, as far as, you know, mom and pop stores versus,
uh, versus uh... (incoherent)
J: Yeah, basically we're barely hanging on here. We have alot of
regular customers who are really cool. It's really laid back here. We don't
have as many copies of Runaway Bride or whatever, but we have more
copies of Princess Mononoke and Ghost Dog.
V: Yeah. What's the popular title right now?
J: Uh, alot of people rent The Wall. Pink Floyd.
V: Yeah.
J: Mainly porn, though.
V: Yeah. What kind of stuff you got?
J: Uh, alot.
V: Radley Metzger?
J: Um, I don't know. We got a lot of More Dirty Debutantes.
And the Eighteen series. Eighteen & Anal. Eighteen
and Anxious. Eighteen &... Eighteen and Over-Anxious.
What else. Eighteen & D.P.d. Eighteen Again starring
George Burns.
V: Yeah.
J: Ha ha ha no, I'm only kidding about the last one. Ha ha ha. That's
in comedy. Totally kidding, man.
V: Debbie Does Dallas?
J: The Next Generation, yes. The original, not anymore.
V: Edward Penishands?
J: Sorry.
V: What's the sickest shit you got?
J: Uh, Ready To Drop is about pregnant women. In fact, REALLY
pregnant women. It should be called Ready To Explode. They look
like those mutant pumpkins some farmer grows to try to break the world
record. Let's see. There's one called Lactomania. First time someone
brought up the box I was like, what is that? I couldn't make out the picture.
Then I'm staring at it, I realize it's a closeup of nipples spraying milk
on the camera lens.
V: Jesus.
J: I know.
V: Let's change gears a little. In today's Cinema, do--
J: Wait a minute, I didn't finish the sickest shit question.
V: Oh, sorry bud.
J: Yeah, then there's, you know, the fat ladies. And the midget
porn. There's one with Long Dong Silver where he has his dick tied in a
knot. Because it's really long. Also some of the gay stuff is pretty fucking
sick. Guys sucking their own dicks and shit like that.
V: Are you serious?
J: Let me... hold on. (Leaves counter. Comes back.) Can you, can
you watch the register for a second?
V: Oh Jesus.
(Jerry leaves. Comes back with box.)
V: Oh Jesus.
J: I know.
V: Man, if every man was that flexible...
J: We'd never leave our fucking bedrooms.
V: You took the words right out of my mouth.
J: Ha ha, I thought you were gonna say took the dick right out of
my mouth.
V: Uh, hold on, this is making me uncomfortable there pal.
J: Sorry.
V: Okay so, uh, moving on. You got a lesbian erotica section
I see.
J: Yeah.
V: Do lesbians ever rent it?
J: Almost never.
V: Just straight guys.
J: I'm-- yes, I'm assuming they're straight. Yes.
V: Do you ever tell them they can't rent it? "I'm sorry,
but there are genuine lesbians who need access to these films."
J: No, I haven't said that yet.
V: Do you ever ask them to prove they're a lesbian? Or maybe,
they have to bring in a note from a lesbian. "Please let Vern rent
two lesbian porn videos for me, I could not make it in because I am having
oral sex with other women."
J: We would lose a lot of money. But it's a good idea.
V: What about the midget porn. Who rents that?
J: Not midgets, I don't think.
V: Ever have a real tall guy rent midget porn? Like, 7 feet tall?
Patrick Ewing or somebody?
J: Not Patrick Ewing.
V: That would be weird though wouldn't it, a tall guy that gets
off on short ladies.
J: I guess so.
V: I mean there are dudes with the weirdest fucking fetishes.
I was reading a while back about the crush videos, they like to watch a
gal's feet stepping on a little mouse or something and squashing it. Or
a bug. Imagine jerkin off to that.
J: That's not legal. We don't carry that.
V: So midgets never rent midget porn?
J: Not to my, uh, not to my recollection. No. I do not remember
that.
V: Who does?
J: Who remembers that?
V: Would you-- smartass. Would you answer the question? Who rents
midget porn?
J: I don't know, different people. I don't know. Sometimes what
they call white trash types. Usually when they bring the box up it's like,
"Ha ha, totally kidding man. Only as a joke." Or like, "Yeah,
I know you're about to close, just picked up a random box. Ha ha, what
the hell man. I'll bite. Ha ha."
But one time this young guy came in
with his girlfriend, and was renting Bridget the Midget's Gang Bang.
And his girlfriend is on a cell phone. And she's saying, "Yeah, we
have Bridget the Midget's Gang Bang. You should come over."
But she wasn't smiling or anything, it wasn't like she was trying to be
outrageous. I couldn't figure these people out.
Then the guy goes, "I have a
couple other videos checked out. Could you check and find out when those
are due back?" So I open his account in the computer, and the other
two movies are Itsy Bitsy Gang Bang and Leprechaun In the Hood.
Swear to god.
(to other customer)
Can I help you?
CUSTOMER: Python. Holy Grail. Point me to it.
JERRY: There's a Terry Gilliam section over there, under
G.
CUSTOMER: (Gives thumbs up sign)
VERN: Holy shit, these are cartoons here.
J: Yeah, that's the-- that's called Animated-X.
V: Sextoons. Gonad the Barbarian? What the fuck?
J: The good adult animation is in a different section. This is just
the cheesy sex stuff.
V: You ever see Mickey Mouse come in and pick up a few titles
from the Animated-X section? Or Roger Rabbit? Any of those guys?
J: No, I don't think so.
V: Bullwinkle?
J: No.
V: You probaly wouldn't say if you did.
J: (laughs)
V: What about Casper? Not even Casper?
J: (joke has worn thin.)
V: So how do people act when they rent porn usuallY? They act
nervous?
JERRY: Not usually. Usually they have no shame. But
sometimes they're all shifty, sweaty foreheads and stuff. Or they do weird
things, like there's one guy who won't bring up the box. He just gives
you the number. And you're like look buddy, bring me the box. And he says
there's no box, it's lost. But he's lying.
V: Hmm.
J: Sometimes they give you a big stack of porn and then they're
like, "Have you seen that Decalogue? Yeah, I gotta see that,
I love Kieslowski."
Or they have this oversized porn box,
people getting their dicks sucked all over it, and then they put the little
normal box on top of it. The Insider or something. Like it's gonna
hide it.
Or, yeah, alot of times they have
a huge stack of like asian bondage porn or something, and then they go,
"Hold on, let me get one more thing." They run upstairs and then
they come back with There's Something About Mary.
V: For the wife.
J: Yeah. "Yeah honey, this was all I could find. Um, I'll be
in the bedroom for seven hours now with the door locked. See ya."
Also, there's the respectable porn
guys. They never go into the porn room. But they rent anything porn-related
at all that's in the new releases. Lesbian vampires, erotic thrillers,
playboy videos. I don't know why they don't just take the plunge.
And there was this one prick who came
in the other day looking for World's Biggest Gang Bang. It's the
one where this one girl fucks like 200 guys or something. We only have
part 2, where some other girl fucks even more guys. Anywhere there's a
documentary that just came out about the one from part one, it's called
Sex: The Annabell Chong Story. So the guy is acting all academic
about it. "Yeah, like I said, there's the documentary playing down
the street. So alot of people will be looking for part one. So you better
get that in. When do you think you'll get that in?"
The next day he comes back to return
part 2. "Yeah, like a said, there's this documentary. Yeah, a lot
of people... blah blah blah."
V: You shoulda said, "What number did you get to? Yeah,
I really thought I was gonna squirt on 15. Made it all the way to 27 though.
It was awesome."
J: (laughs)
V: Jesus, World's Biggest Gang Bang? Yeah, that's pretty sexy
there pal. Especially when you read about how she was gang raped as a kid.
It's all about art, though, right? Her being molested has NOTHING to do
with it.
J: Total coincidence.
You know what? Here's a story. One
time this guy, like a frat guy came in and he said, "Look, I just
rented this movie like 20 minutes ago. But it's really, really bad. Can
I have my money back?"
And the girl that was working of course
says, "Is something wrong with the tape?"
"No, it's not damaged or anything,
it's just a really bad movie."
"Well, no. Sorry. There are alot
of bad movies out there. And people have different tastes. We can't just
give people their money back every time they say they don't like something.
That's the chance you take when you watch a movie."
And the guy keeps pushing it. "Come
on, this movie is HORRIBLE." But we didn't give him the refund. So
finally, after like five minutes, he drops the movie in the return slot
and storms out of there.
And we look at the video. It's called
Once Upon a Squirt.
Anyway, yeah, some people try to act
like there's some other reason to rent porn than to jerk off. So many excuses.
We got this one porn title, Belle De Jour. I want to see some guy
rent it and bring it home to his wife. "Oh geez, sorry honey. I thought
it was Belle DU Jour. I feel so stupid. Oh what the heck, let's watch it
anyway." (makes jerkin off gesture)
V: Does it creep you out, taking money from these people and
knowing they're about to go home and jerk off?
J: I try not to think about it. Although sometimes when a DVD comes
back with something sticky on it, or whatever...
V: Oh Jesus. That's just not right. You have to wash that off.
J: Exactly. Exactly. But yeah, uh, sometimes it's weird. Just about
everybody that works here has some old high school teacher or neighbor
or somebody that comes in and rents a bunch of gay porn or bondage or whatever.
Or you're having a conversation with
somebody about a movie or something, and you're hitting it off, and then
they hand you a box with some chick tied up getting cummed on or something.
Or sometimes you're carrying a big
stack of boxes to put back on the shelf, and some nice old lady starts
asking you about Ginger Rogers or something, and you have this conversation
with her. And then you're walking away and you realize that that whole
time you were holding all these pictures of chicks suckin guys dicks.
V: Are you happy here? Is this the industry for you?
J: I mean, I like movies alot. And porn's not that bad.
V: People treat you like shit?
J: Actually, the porn people aren't as bad. They're creepier, but
most of them don't give you shit because they don't want to call attention
to what they're renting. It's the non porn people that will cause a big
scene about late fees or whatever. "I didn't know you would charge
me that much just for keeping 8 videos out for three weeks. I'm never renting
here again!"
V: I got this one title on my web sight, it's something about
biker chicks or something. Anyway, wondering if it was good. You have that
one?
J: I'm not sure which one that is.
V: Oh.
J: You don't know the title? I don't know, maybe. (garbled)
V: Anyway, I'm sorry, we really got off track there. I think
we will edit some of this porn shit out, I wanted to ask you about the
(tape ends)
GO TO THE OFFICIAL BALLOT
VERN
TELL'S IT LIKE IT IS #48 - ALMOST FAMOUS
So the big movie right now is Almost
Famous. A nicely crafted '70s epic about a 15 year old kid named William
who writes music reviews, and ends up having Rolling Stone magazine foot
the bill for him to go on tour with a major rock band, to write an article.
Written and directed by Cameron Crowe, for whom most of this shit REALLY
went down, it is obviously a movie that is very close to his heart.
In a way it's kind of a pisser that
THIS would be the cherished personal project for a director. This guy is
saying hey everybody, when I was fifteen I fell in love with one of the
many beautiful groupies I had sex with on the national tour I went on with
a famous rock band. But then we didn't get together. Bummer, eh?
It's kind of like on that radio talk
show Loveline, when they get what they call a "my dick is too big
to ride my bicycle" call. Where it is really more bragging than questioning.
But still, this is an interesting
story and it's well made so it's hard not to get involved. The movie is
like what they call "a love letter to rock 'n roll" especially
in the opening scenes where a younger version of William has his awe struck
first confrontation with The Who's Tommy on vinyl. Or when his older sister,
who by the way hubba hubba, runs off to become a stewardess and she tells
her mom "This song explains why I'm leaving" and plays some song
that, shit I don't know what the hell the guy is singing about but apparently
it communicates all of her emotions better than a conversation could. Because
that's rock 'n roll.
I'm sure you've heard alot of good
things about this picture, and it deserves most of them. But think about
it. What critic is NOT going to give four stars to a well made movie about
a critic. Who goes on tour with a rock band. And gets gang raped by a bunch
of hot, giggly girls. And learns that he doesn't have to be cool to be
cool.
I think smart kids will relate to
this movie a little more than I do. This is about a kid with kind of an
unstable family because his pop is dead and his sister ran off and his
mom is kind of nuts, but on the other hand his mom is a college professor
who is very supportive of his talents even when it scares the shit out
of her.
It also really knows how to illustrate
the contrast between the two worlds, the world of the ordinary kid and
the world of backstage at Black Sabbath. I guess this is what they call
"mild spoiling" so skip this paragraph if you haven't seen it.
But I like when after his first adventure in the larger than life world
of rock stars and "band aids" and dreams of running off to Morocco,
he is ushered back into his everyday life by mom doing "the family
whistle". And even better, I like at the very end of the movie when,
after his great adventure in seventies rock 'n roll, this kid is relieved
to be back in his bedroom with the Jimi Hendrix poster and just drop face
first onto his bed.
There is also some occasional bits
of really out there humor. Like when the kid watches his love getting her
stomach pumped and he smiles and you hear Stevie Wonder singin "My
Cherie Amour" playing on the soundtrack. Or when his mom is doing
a lecture and suddenly she blurts out "Rock stars have kidnapped my
son!" and one student scribbles something in her notes. It doesn't
make any damn sense and that's why it makes a motherfucker smile.
You gotta hand it to the performances
in the movie. The kid, I don't know his name, but he's no hearthrob. He's
an everyteen. I like this kid, with his big scared eyes with bags under
them. Jason Lee and Billy Crudup are also very good as members of the band
Stillwater although if you wanna see an even better Billy Crudup movie
you gotta see Jesus'
Son available now on home
video.
If I have one complaint about this
movie, and I do, it is that Kate Hudson, as the mythical and I guess based
on real life groupie goddess Penny Lane, is not quite as awe inspiring
as Cameron Crowe obviously thinks she is. I mean okay, the dude is probaly
still in love with the real Penny lane and hired this girl because she
reminds him of her. But to the rest of us - I mean, we weren't there. We
are not in on the joke. We are not quite as swept up in her as he is, I
think.
Don't get me wrong, she does a good
job and she's cute and what not. But she doesn't have the real knock you
on your ass goddess presence she is supposed to. She doesn't have the thing
that will make you buy that she is somehow shaping rock 'n roll history
by serving as a muse to the rock stars. Now young Jane Fonda, that's a
goddess. Brigitte Bardot. Really, any of Roger Vadim's wives. Or Jeanne
Moreau. Or the gal from Breathless. Or now days, I'd say Chloe Sevigny
(just in the eyes). Or a girl I used to date named Honeypot. She was bad
news but those are girls you can write a song for. Kate Hudson... I don't
know, maybe you'd include a verse for her. But not a whole song. At least
not a long one, and in the '70s alot of the songs went on for ten, fifteen
minutes. Lots of guitar solos.
Anyway that's the part of the movie
I think most individuals will respond to. But us Writers and critics, we
respond to the writing and criticking. We like how Philip Seymour Hoffman
plays I guess a real guy, this Lester Bangs, the edgy rock critic who recognizes
the kid's talent and mentors him over the phone. Although come to think
of it it's pretty creepy having the dude from Happiness talking
on the phone with a teenage boy late at night. Oh jesus let me pause to
get that out of my mind.
Anyway we like seeing this kid try
desperately to find SOMETHING he can Write about, something good, so he
can turn it in and doesn't wind up looking like a jackass. It's called
a weekly column, kid. Get used to it.
And then after the rush of the deadline
is over, will he have something he is proud of? Will he have anything?
If Rolling Stone likes it, does that mean it's good, or bad? Will Lester
still like it? Will anybody like it?
Jesus kid let me tell you a story.
This is from one Writer to another. The rest of you motherfuckers can just
butt out. This is a story of a man named Vern, who everytime he gets published
on the ain't it cool news, in front of millions of readers, everybody tears
his works to shreds.
Now I swear to you people, when I
submit a review to the ain't it cool news, I'm not trying to a provoke
a reaction out of these people. In fact I forget there are even people
out there who hate me. When I sent in my Exorcist review I was thinking
hey, this is better than your average Vern review. This is more entertaining
than the other Exorcist reviews they've published, if I do say so
myself, as an entertainer in a way I am an expert on these things. I'm
thinking Vern, you should be proud of yourself. People are gonna like this.
And then the talkbacks start coming:
This is one of the worst written
"reviews" I've ever read on this site. When people try to be
cool and use "fuck" every other word, it only serves to make
them look unintelligent. So did he like it or not? I couldn't tell. There
was too much of "well, there were these new fuckin things and they
were good, but not that good, and they added that other shit too."
I think Harry should stop letting Keanu write reviews.
--
First of all, I'd like to point
out that "The Exorcist" came out in 1973 (27 years ago) not 17
like your reviewer states. I also don't appreciate his bad language (is
he trying to compete with Linda Blair?). I'm sure there are some younger
readers here who could do without it.
Okay, so arguably he has a good point
with the math. But what, it doesn't count as writing if you throw in a
motherfucker here and there? And they just keep coming:
** Pretty dopey review as Vern
didn't really say much about the movie and seemed intent only to promote
his "schtik." Mildly funny. And to the guy who thinks saying
f__k every other word is somehow "jive" or cool then you really
need to get away from your keyboard every once and awhile. It's merely
childish or low class, take yer pick.
--
I hope this Vern fellow WAS on
some sort of drug because there can be no other excuse to have written
such a horribly profane, infantile, rambling, incoherent piece of garbage.
Nitpicking on the critics at AICN is something of a vogue on the talkbacks
that I have usually chosen to ignore. The complaints about bad grammar,
bad spelling, and bad language never seemed all that serious to me. I'm
pretty lenient on all those points, but this just goes too far! What was
THAT all about anyhow? It couldn't have been anything about the Exorcist
- more like a poor attempt to look like a "bad ass." His review
and his idiotic response just shows he obviously has no class, no restraint
and his rabid cynicism is a transparent veil to hide his own insecurities.
I don't mind in your face reviews or cynicism but when it goes as far as
getting in the way of the purpose of the review then it goes too far. Harry,
this is your place and you can do whatever you want, but in my opinion,
you really don't need this kind of refuse stinking up your place. Keep
him around, and it's just going to be one person a lot of people will just
have to ignore.
--
Constant swearing and a general
lack of grammar are what pass for style on AICN now? I mean in the past
I could always count on a rather in depth review, with thought and effort
put into it. I didn't always agree, Harry you will never live down Armageddon
nor will I let you forget it, but I respect peoples opinions. But let me
say this I am hard pressed to find any merit in putting up Vern's "review".
I'm not offended by the language as I could personally give a shit less
about that type of thing. I also don't mind him using the whole Catholic
stereotype thing, although I'm sure others do. But come on if you set out
to review something, review it. Let us know something about it, if you
liked it, what you liked, why you liked it, why you didn't like it, why
you howl at the moon....anything but make it relevant. Harry likes diversity
and I appreciate this but seriously have some standards just because a
guy writes this and calls it a review doesn't mean it has to be posted.
Try suggesting its not a review and that they rewrite it. I have spoken...
---DaKing
--
This review is a nice example of
that first grade reading level you've heard so much about. Why did we need
to read it? Why did it need to be posted? At any rate, both versions of
the film are excellent.
--
I think it's time for you to stop
submitting your reviews until you can write them in a way that involves
the reader into the deeper aspects of the films you review. If you are
passionate about movies, that's fine. However, you have to have a talent
for the written word to avoid all of the negative reactions you are getting
here. Remember this: Just because you may like WATCHING a sport doesn't
mean you can PLAY the sport. Therefore, just because you LIKE movies, doesn't
mean you are qualified to WRITE about them, at least in an entertaining
way. I got less information about "The Exorcist" from your review
than I'd get by simply watching the TV commercial. Oh, and one final point.
When I was in college, my English professors consistently mentioned that
profanity is "lazy writing." It can be used to heighten the impact
of a sentence, but only if used wisely. With your reviews, the profanity
is more like a diversion to mask your difficulty with finding a better,
more fluid form of speech. If you submit anything again, cut out the unnecessary
profanity, or you will continue to sound like an immature 10th grader with
a computer.
--
What a waste of time. Vern you
need to retire because you seriously suck. Harry you are a moron for having
this hack waste everone's time.
--
By the was Vern and Harry nice
professionalism. If you remove the "F" bomb from the review it
shortens the whole thing to one paragraph.
Now listen William. I know what you're
gonna say: ignore these jackasses. And it is true that I got many supportive
comments on the talkbacks as well. But when you are a public figure such
as you or myself or especially an Artist these types of shit can gnaw at
your soul like a piranha on a cow's ass.
Because you read the same comments
again and again and you think, "Don't listen to them. What would Lester
Bangs say? What would Hunter S. Thompson say? What would Cecil B. Demented
say? What would Clint fucking Eastwood say? You know what you're doing.
Stand up for it. Don't be dragged into sameness and mediocrity."
But then, somewhere way in the back
of your mind, there's a little squeaky voiced Vern meekly raising his hand
saying, "Um, excuse me. Um, hey guys. Hahem. What if these retards
are right?"
And then you can't help but think,
maybe the little dude has a point. If you are a Writer, isn't part of your
job to communicate your ideas? And here you got at least 8 newsies who
act like you wrote the whole thing in Mexican. (And they don't read Mexican.)
One guy even thought I was being cynical,
when personally I think I'm about as idealistic and pie in the sky corny
as a motherfucker could be after punking a good dozen or so inmates during
nearly a decade of incarceration.
They're saying I didn't even make
any points about the movie. I didn't say if I liked it.
And I look over the review and I'm
goin, that's not true! I talked about how it's different with an audience.
How it's changed over the years. Which parts are spruced up or shortened.
Why I think it's creepy. Who I think is scared by it. Which parts I thought
were better and worse in the new version. Why I think you should see it
even if it's not as good as the old version. Hell I practically reviewed
the "version you've never seen before" subtitle and the trailer
for Red Planet free of charge.
And it's not like I was getting real
poetical or nothing, it was pretty straight forward. I even said "It's
pretty good" at one point. They act like I wrote it in haiku.
So I'm thinkin, why don't they get
it? WHAT AM I DOING WRONG?
And then there is a pause for reflection.
And sudden change of gears. I start thinking no. No Vern, it's not you.
It's just that these fuckers can't comprehend a dude writing in the vernacular.
And that pisses me off. I don't care if they hate my conversational tone
but they act like it don't even count as written language. I think this
may be a common belief among a certain type of nerds. One individual recently
told me that he loved the movie Fight Club, but the book was horrible
- "the worst grammar and editing I've ever seen in a book!"
God forbid these boys ever have to
read Catcher in the Rye!
Well now you see the quandary a motherfucker
finds himself in. I got an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other
and both of them are assholes. One of em says Vern, you suck. You can't
Write. You don't even deserve to capitalize the W when referring to yourself
as a writer. Hell you don't even deserve a w at all, asshole.
And the other says, don't listen
to him Vern. They're all just retards. You're over their head! The only
reason they don't understand you is because you are so much smarter than
them! Hell half of these guys are probaly competing critics from the Online
Critics Association. They don't even hate your review, they're just trying
to shoot you down to protect their territory!
Plus they wear diapers and it's
a whole fetish, they take pictures of it and post them on the internet.
Well in the end, William, you are
one thing. You are a Writer, and a Positive individual. Actually that's
two things but like the guy pointed out I'm bad at math. Anyway what you
gotta do as a Writer, as a Positive individual, you gotta sort all these
emotions out and try to figure out what's what. Alls I know is, I'm a beginner.
I'm an oldie but a newie. I'm still learning and christ knows I'll be looking
back at these reviews in a couple years going jesus Vern, you call that
verve? You call that wit?
(Or whatever. I'm assuming I'll be
smarter then so, whatever I say will be smarter than that. Imagine something
smart there.)
But I do have a mission. I want to
put a few things into film criticism.
1) balls
2) passion
3) funny
d) personality
To me Writing about film is more than
just "I liked it" or "this sucks". Or following a formula
of "Introductory sentence. Plot summary. Movie - good or bad? Closing
witticism."
Writing about film is a personal thing,
it is a relationship a man has with his Cinema. My reviews are my love
letter to the Cinema just as Almost Famous is Cameron Crowe's love
letter to rock music and this one groupie in the '70s. I like to talk about
what I think of the movie but also how it relates to other movies, and
to my life, and to my philosophy. I think movies are more than just a consumer
product, they are something that connects an Artist to an audience and
an audience to each other and cultures and subcultures to others all around
the world. They are our expression and our culture and our common ground.
They are art and entertainment and conversation pieces and sometimes they
are poems or movements or calls to arms. Also I like to Write about prison.
And so what if you don't like the
word motherfucker. I didn't like it when you called me a "fellow"
but I'm not gonna quote my creative writing teacher to prove that it makes
you sound like a jackass.
So I gotta consider what they say
and I gotta be sure they are wrong and when I'm sure they're wrong I gotta
commence to prove that I'm right. By doing it my way. And if I need to
feel understood I gotta keep in mind those people who supported me in the
talkbacks and those people who pop up in the guest book every time I get
a new one up on the ain't it cool, the guys who tell me, "Vern, you
rock."
(Which means good. They probaly don't
have that one in the '70s but in the 2000, they say that a person rocks,
and that means it's good.)
Anyway obviously ol' Vern is blowing
a gasket here, but if that is the kind of passion you feel for Writing
you might just make it in this business. Good luck and don't let the bastards
get you down if these fuckers go after you in the talkbacks just tell me
I'll start writing motherfucker left and right, they won't even know what
hit em.
thanks William.
--Vern
VERN
TELL'S IT LIKE IT IS #49 - Man Stuff
I remember there used to be women who read
my column. I won't say their names but there was a nice gal from the newsgroups
who was an early supporter of my works. Nother one from the web sight for
the director of Running Time, that Bruce Campbell movie all done
up in one shot like Rope. She used to write me all the time, very
encouraging, very supportive.
I haven't heard from any women in a while,
and I wonder if I'm scaring them away with all this man talk. All this
Badass Cinema, all this Bruce and Clint and breaking people's legs and
bending punks over and smoking motherfuckers. Balls and dicks. Man stuff.
Well I hope some day my sensitive side will
return, I'll lay off of the macho for a little while and I'll get a little
more genderifical diversity in my readership. I mean who the fuck knows,
even Clint Eastwood directed The Bridges of Madison County one time.
Sorry though ladies, this is not that column.
Because today I've been pondering a question that only a fucking man would
ever wonder about. The question is:
What does it mean to be a man?
Seriously people, don't laugh. There are alot
of reasons I ask this question. One reason is the pair of TV specials that
were on last week, that honored two icons of Badass Cinema from two different
generations, Bruce Willis and Clint Eastwood. I look at a guy like Bruce,
and especially a guy like Clint, and I have to wonder - what is it that
I see in this guy that I want to see in myself? Why are these two actors
such models of manhood to me? That's one of the reasons why I ask this
question, what does it mean to be a man? The main reason I ask is
because of how, earlier today, I got double penetrated.
So uh, this column isn't gonna be pretty folks.
I hope you're sitting down. I hope you're not eating. You're really gonna
wish you didn't read this one.
I guess I really started thinking it around
10:30 this morning. Sitting in a waiting room at the urology clinic, watching
the sick people stumble up and down the hallway with breathing masks or
wheelchairs they didn't know how to use. Everyone else is as nervous as
me. Who knows what they're waiting for.
Over the intercom they say "MRS. CORA
BELL PLEASE RETURN TO BLOOD DROP! CORA BELL, RETURN TO BLOOD DROP!"
Sounding a little panicked.
I look around. Nobody else looks freaked out.
Maybe they know what it means. I'm thinking, what the fuck is a blood
drop? And where the hell did Cora wander off to? What kind of crazy shit
is going on in this building?
I'm thinking any second now, Cora's gonna
come running down the hall with no blood in her. "Come back Mrs. Bell!
We didn't put the blood in yet!"
And I'm thinking about the paper they gave
me when they signed me up for this caper.
1. Try to report for your evaluation with
a comfortably full bladder. If you empty your bladder just prior to your
appointment it may delay your test.
Okay, so it WAS comfortably full... when I
came in for my 10:00 appointment. Now it's 10:30. It's uncomfortable. I'm
staring at the restroom signs. Don't think of pissing. Don't think of
pissing.
A guy goes into the bathroom holding a folded
up shirt. He's got jeans and cowboy boots on but he's wearing a polka dotted
nightgown on top.
They gonna make me wear a fucking nightgown?
Don't think of pissing.
Goes into the bathroom, comes out wearing
the shirt and dangling the gown from two fingers like it's a dead rat he
has to get out of the attic. What kind of psychological shit is this, putting
polka dots on a man's hospital gown? Like boot camp or something. You have
to break him down mentally, destroy his self image, humiliate him. Then
you can operate. Whatever they did to him in that nightgown, he probaly
didn't enjoy it. He's disgusted at even being associated with this gown.
I don't know what they did to him. But I know
what they're planning to do to me.
You remember how a month ago I said it was
good news, it wasn't chlamydia? Well, turns out it wasn't good news. If
it was chlamydia, they woulda given me medicine. It would be over by now.
I wouldn't have had to come in this morning for the urodynamic evaluation.
This exam can cost up to $1500.00. Thank christ I have insurance. The CPT
codes for this procedure are as follows:
51726--Cystometrogram-complex
51741--Complex uroflowmetry
51795--Voiding pressure studies
51797--Intra-Abdominal Voiding pressure
51785--EMG Urethral Spincter
It's gonna be okay Vern. Think about something
else. Think about something tough.
Lee Marvin.
Clint Eastwood.
Outlaw Josey Whales.
Josey and the Pussycats.
Anything.
DESCRIPTION OF URODYNAMIC EVALUATION
Urodynamics is an in depth evaluation of
the lower urinary tract (bladder and bladder outlet or urethra). These
studies are important in diagnosing problems of loss of urinary control
or urinary retention (inability to pass urine) or frequency of urination.
This evaluation involves placing small tubes through the urethra into the
bladder to measure the pressure inside the bladder.
Oh yeah, and a small tube inside the rectum
to measure the pressure in the abdomen. Occasionally x-rays may be taken
during the study. A complete evaluation may take up to 1 1/2 hours. You
know, the length of a movie, with a tube up your ass, and one in your dick.
No big deal. Ask if you have questions.
When I first read that, I was like, holy fucking
jesus. Now it's a month later, and I was starting to get used to the idea.
Well, it's gonna happen. Might as well get it over with. Might as well
go in and get DP'd. Not sure how it works exactly, sticking a tube in my
dick. Not sure I want to know how it works. Holy fucking jesus.
Steve McQueen. Sam Peckinpah. The Getaway.
Remember when he gets up and starts cooking
a big pan of eggs for breakfast? Ever since I saw that I've always thought
cooking eggs was manly.
Thunderbolt and Lightfoot. Rabbits jumping
out of the trunk.
Fist Full of Dollars. The Good the Bad
and the Ugly. Once Upon a Time in the West.
I told the doctor wait a minute, you don't
understand. That's a dick. You can't stick a tube up a dick, can you?
Okay, you can think about pissing.
So I keep looking at those restroom signs.
The international sign of the man. A little man with a circle for a head,
and rounded off nubs for hands and feet. His ladyfriend is identical, except
her arms are splayed out to accomodate her triangle shaped dress.
Think about pissing.
Rounded off nubs.
Think about pissing.
What does it mean to be a man?
The nurse, or medical assitant or whatever
comes out. Tough lady, like a gym teacher. "Vern?"
I look over my shoulder. It's not too late.
I could make a run for it.
"Here," I say, getting up, my voice
cracking.
* * *
No, I'm not making this one up, boys. They
really did a number on ol' Vern. First they had me piss in this thing with
a big whirring motor inside. Took care of the uncomfortably full bladder
right away.
"Go back in there and wait for Dr. Mayo."
Dr. Mayo comes in and asks me a few questions
about pissing. "Did they have you urinate already?"
"Yeah."
He peeks in the door, checks out the whirring
thing.
"Oh yes, they did," he says, with
a very elegant English accent. "It looks very nice, very nice."
They didn't let me keep my pants on, like
the bathroom guy. But I had the polka dotted nightgowns on. Two of them.
And little paper booties on my feet. In the examination room there was
a big machine to sit in, with stirrups. And you sit your bare ass on cold
metal, with a gap in the middle.
Maybe that wasn't a scene in The Exorcist
I was remembering. Maybe this is what I was thinking of. This is worse
though. I walked in, my little paper booties pitter pattering on the floor.
I'm not sure why, but there's a big yellow piss stain in one spot on the
floor. Like piss has dripped there so many times there's no way to scrub
it off anymore. Fucking urology, man.
There's alot of psychological shit they do
to help you get through this, and they're good at that. They make conversation,
and little jokes.
"Did you get my message?" the gym
teacher asks.
Message? No. What did it say?
"That we had an intimate date today."
She delivers the jokes good, like they're
spontaneous. I wonder if she always uses the same ones. Like a wedding
DJ who every day plays the Rocky theme when the best man comes up for a
toast, and every day people laugh.
She dims the lights. "Mood lighting,"
she jokes. I give a little fake laugh, trying to play along, because I
want it to work.
I didn't even see anyone turn it on, but suddenly
I notice this portable stereo on a table on the other side of a room, and
it starts playing gentle music to calm me down. And I realize after a little
bit that it's Elton John.
"Can You Feel the Love Tonight."
Swear to fucking christ.
First they stick a tube in your dick, then
they pull it out. Then a different one. The lady says, "Yep, we have
all sorts of catheters." Gallows humor. Next is the one in your ass.
And let me say this. No offense. But I don't
know WHAT you gay guys are thinking! Same goes for the girls that let their
boyfriends assfuck them. Or the straight guys who like a dildo up their
ass. Yeah, I saw you on Real Couples. I know what you're into.
I'll never think of The Lion King the
same way again.
Oh lord, please forgive me for all that business
in prison. I was young and reckless then. It was a mistake. I know about
karma and all that but fer chrissakes, I'm a changed man. Please consider
my case. No more of these catheters, ever again. Fer cryin out loud I'll
give up Cinema if I have to. I'll burn my dvds and drown my computer. I'll
travel to hollywood to piss on Clint and Bruce's stars. I'll curse Steve
McQueen and call Bruce Lee a shrimp and give Michael Bay a blow job. Just
never ever let them stick a tube in my ass again.
"It's a leaded room. It's okay to scream."
SHIT!!!
"You're doing good. You can wipe the
tears from your eyes if you want."
I cried? Ha ha, I didn't notice.
"We make men cry. That's our job."
* * *
You don't know what to think about yourself after something like
that. I'm a pathetic old man who's dripping piss. So pathetic they had
to do THAT to me.
No, I'm a tough motherfucker, so tough I let them do THAT to me.
Maybe that's how I'll feel tomorrow. But today I still feel fragile.
Have you ever farted from your dick? I guess there was some air trapped
in there. And it burns a little when I piss. It's hard to forget a feeling
like that, a tube up your dick. And then they make you piss through it.
I still don't know how it works, exactly. I probaly shouldn't have mentioned
this in the column. Well, I'm too old to be dating anyway.
What does it mean to be a man? In Hollywood Salutes Bruce Willis,
it means LOOKING tough, but being a nice guy at heart. The American Cinemateque
was giving an award to Bruce Willis, so it was kind of like The Bruce Willis
Awards. Typical corny awards show, lots of celebrity presenters, but only
Bruce Willis wins.
And Bruce sat there, his head shaved bald, not knowing how to react.
What expression should you have on your face when you're the guest of honor
for something like this? Sometimes he smiled, laughed at the jokes made
at his expense. Then they'd start talking about how he bought ice cream
for an entire neighborhood while shooting The Sixth Sense, or how
he bought Michael Clarke Duncan the book The Green Mile and told him to
read it over and over and start studying and I'm gonna make a few phone
calls and this is gonna change your life.
Bruce is looking tougher at this age. More damaged. And when they
said all this nice stuff about him, he didn't smile. He looked real serious.
Maybe he's gonna cry though. Like I did when they stuck a tube up my dick.
Sorry about that.
Some of it was kind of embarrassing. Ol' Bruce has done alot of
shitty movies. And when you line them all up next to each other it starts
to get embarrassing. North. Armageddon. Blind Date. etc.
But then you look at the good stuff. Die Hard. Die Hard 2. Die
Hard With a Vengeance. Pulp Fiction. The Sixth Sense.
I liked Fifth Element, and so did alot of folks on the Badass
ballot. He was pretty cool in Last Man Standing, even if it's no
Yojimbo or Fist Full of Dollars. He was always funny
on Moonlighting and you fucking know it. And he does those dramatic
roles that are supposed to be good, but I've never seen them. In Country.
Nobody's Fool.
He's not just doing the same shit all the time. Even in the bad
movies, he gives it his all. He looks tough in Armageddon, it's
just the movie surrounding him that sucks. And he's got longevity. He doesn't
have to keep trying for comebacks. He's not making an ass of himself like
"Fats" Stallone doing that Get Carter remake. Look at
that fucking jackass in that bad suit.
But then, he IS a man. In the bad sense of the word. In the sense
that he does make his Armageddons, and he wants to be the movie
star, he wants to own the Planet Hollywoods. And he wants to be a rock
star.
There was a whole section on Return of Bruno. Ouch.
And that's why Clint Eastwood is so great. He doesn't want to be
a rock star. He just plays jazz piano, on occasion. Real good, but only
on occasion. It's my theory of the Badass juxtaposition. It's gotta be
something sensitive, something emotional, or something cute if it's gonna
amplify the Badass quality.
Jumping around doing "Under the Boardwalk" karaoke doesn't
work. Sitting quietly playing jazz does.
Clint is jazz. Everybody else is karaoke.
Out of the Shadows - Clint Eastwood: An American Masters Special
is a 90 minute overview of Clint's career, skipping through
time for interviews with Janet Maslin, Walter Mosley, Sergio Leone, Don
Siegel, even Clint's mom Ruth Wood. It shows how Clint went from a little
boy who loved jazz to a bit player in b-movies; from the star of Rawhide
to the man with no name, to an American icon, to a director.
More than anything it shows how Clint is a shy man, a quiet man,
and the more he doesn't say, the more he tells about himself. It's how
he tells you how he's gonna kick your ass. It's also how he tells you he
has a soul.
My favorite parts in the special are when they show him actually
directing. He doesn't say "Cut" or "Action!" He just
says hey man, let's try this. Okay, that's good.
And then there's the part where he is honored. Not by Amanda Peet
and the cast of Friends introducing clips of his recent movies.
By a jazz concert.
Can you imagine that? A jazz concert, honoring you. And then he
comes up on stage at the end. "My name is Clint Eastwood, and I love
jazz." And he sits down and briefly grabs the spotlight, playing the
piano. Out of the shadows. And then quietly he goes back in, and we don't
hear much from him, except occasionally he releases a movie.
Maybe that's what it means to be a man. To let your manhood speak
for itself. You don't have to prove yourself. Yourself proves itself. They
talk about how Clint has the physical strength to stand still and be menacing.
To not say anything with his mouth, but say volumes with his eyes. To lay
it all out by holding it all back.
People will know you're a tough motherfucker. You don't have to
explain the whole tube in the dick deal, why it makes you tough and not
old. In my opinion.
By the way, maybe you guys shouldn't mention this to anybody else,
you know.
* * *
Paying for the parking garage took a long fucking time. Two long
lines, they started out about the same length, but I chose the wrong one.
The cashier must've been new, typing all kinds of weird shit into the computer,
taking five minutes for each transaction. Coming up with weird prices like
$4, when it's supposed to be $3 a day. Everybody in line, straight from
hearing bad news or getting shots or getting tubes stuck up their dick
(me), is starting to get pissed. Swearing under their breath or making
those loud sighs of annoyance.
Then this young couple comes up, gets in the other line, gets through
it long before I get through mine. They looked like they were in their
mid-20s. Fashionably dressed. Lacking in sleep. Holding hands. The woman
was whiter then I must've been earlier, when they thought I was gonna faint.
She was skinny and her hair was mostly shaved off, growing back haphazardly
in little blond patches.
What the fuck am I complaining about, getting sodomized in novel
new ways. I bet this gal WISHES she had a dick to stick a tube up, rather
than this. That dude would LOVE to get the urodynamic evaluation, rather
than have to deal with this. It would be a fucking birthday party to him.
Part of his mind, the devious man part, I bet it's looking for
a way out. Get her to do something wrong, find some reason to break up,
to save himself the emotional damage of loving a girl that's probaly gonna
die.
But he stands there and holds her hand, and goes on with life.
Maybe THAT'S what it means to be a man. Even if he doesn't play
piano. You just have to find your own definition.
--Vern
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