A Kardashian Always Pays Her Debts

Bear with me here, for some reason I can't embed videos today...

 ON WITH THE BLOGGING 

As of today, I am certain of one thing:

Kim Kardashian

...is the real world version Tyrion Lannister, from Game of Thrones

Kim and Tyrion are more similar than we might admit. Ruling out the obvious gender and height differences, Kim's father Robert was one of the richest and most powerful  men in California

and Tyrion's father Lord Tywin is the great Lion of the West

They both have, particular public personae that they live up to

Let's be honest, they're both rather Impish

And their both of their first marriages both lasted mere weeks, but that's neither here nor there...

But what really sells it is, under this guise of carefree party animals, they both can play the game very well.

Tyrion knew there was a rat in the small council- but he didn't know who. So he went to the small council, and told each one of them he was sending the princess to a different Kingdom.

He told Pycelle he was sending here to House Martell of Dorne, he told Varys he was sending here to the Greyjoys of Pyke, and he told Littlefinger he was sending her to the House Arryn of the Vale

Next thing you know, the Queen is asking "Why are you sending the princess to Dorne?"

And like that, Tyrion learns the rat is Pycelle, and makes swift work of him...

Kim Kardashian just had a baby (North West, giggle). She is one of the most photographed people in the world. She wanted some semblance of privacy for her daughter, but she wanted to make sure she wouldn't be betrayed by her own "Small Council".

So she sent 6 different pictures of 6 babies, none of them North West, to 6 of her friends. 

One of these fake pictures was picked up by the papparazzi.
And Kim knew which of her friends was the rat.

So one of two things happened here: either Kim K watches Game of Thrones
OR
Kim is more shrewd than her persona let's us believe, just like my other favorite Imp.

I'm sure Robert would have had similar things to say as Tywin about their secretly clever offspring...

ok, well Robert would have been nicer about it...

Plato's Man of Steel

Spoilers ahead, to all citizens who have yet to see Man of Steel.

Socrates: Hail Glaucon, it is I, Socrates!

Glaucon: Socrates, trusted friend. Did you too view Man of Steel last weekend?

Socrates: Indeed; it is likely I have seen it. Being that it was the highest grossing June opening of all-time, it is logical that I would be in that number.

Glaucon: Socrates, this movie upset me. They have changed too much. They have ruined Superman.

S: Heavens, my dear Glaucon! How could they have ruined this character. As certainly I have too seen Man of Steel, I disagree it has ruined Superman. I ask you to suppose, Glaucon, what was so terrible about this film?

Was it the suit?

G: Indeed, I missed the bright red underwear.

S: The suit was dull and gray, yes, but all of the clothes on Krypton were such, so it is logical for Jor-El to make a similar outfit for Kal. It would be illogical for Jor-El to make a suit for his son with underwear on the outside when his people had no such garment?

G: Truly so. Then perhaps I am upset with Clark's brooding. Superman should not be as introspective and stoic as he was in this film.

S: To what end? If Superman is to work, he must be equal parts Jesus and Moses, no?

G: Who is Jesus? This is the Bronze Age Greece.

S: Don't fucking get all meta on me, dear Claucon.

G: Then yes, he must be a combination of Moses archetypes and Jesus archtypes.

S: Then it must be that Superman must be 33 years old, the same age Christ was when he died.

G: Truly.

S: So Superman must be 33 in the year 2013. Should any man born in 1980 not brood?

G: Men born in 1980 have unique lives. They grew up watching television. They listened to Nirvana as a teenager. He watched 9/11 as a young man.

S: And would not have Superman prevented 9/11? Couldn't he have saved many lives in the towers?

G: He would not have revealed himself at such an early age.

S: Indeed, Superman being a child of the 80s completely changes his demeanor.
And let us assume the Dark Knight takes place in this same universe, as Christopher Nolan produced this film.

G: Yes, indeed! Why didn't Superman come to the aid of Gotham when Bane held the city for months?

S: If he could not reveal himself in New York, would he reveal himself in Gotham?

G: Indeed, this Superman must have lived through tragedy, unable to help, to prevent his identity. But this film then became too dark, and this film made Superman to do thing he should never.

S: Ah, Glaucon, you mean when Superman killed Zod.

G: Yes. Superman never kills.

S: And why is that?

G: Because he does not. He is above killing. He is the ideal hero and the ideal hero does not murder. He is the super-timocrat.

S: But why does he not kill? Certainly the reason cannot simply be because he does not?

G: It's in his moral code. You have seen this film: when he was a boy, he crushed the pole rather than harm the bully, when he was a man he walked away instead of fighting back against the drunk trucker. He does not harm.

S: Yes, but does not even fight at this point. He has had no opportunity to fight. Zod is his first real fight, therefore his first opportunity to kill. And after he kills Zod, he is obviously disturbed by the act.

G: Truly he was. It will be assumed the no killing clause will enter his morality by the next film. He will battle Luthor or Darksied or anyone, but he will be haunted by Zod's death. And then he will not kill.

S: Should we have assumed that in his first battle, his code of conduct is fully fleshed out?

G: Indeed no; no man is fully formed in their first great struggle.

S: Then therefore is Superman? This is his origin; if not killing is such an important part of his character, shouldn't we see the moment where he decides not to kill, instead of simply assuming he does not?

G: Then killing Zod was indeed the crux of his origin. Killing Zod was his weakest moment, where he formed his moral code. This was the low point that informed all of his high moral choices.

S: Indeed my dear friend. So how is he ruined?

G: Socrates, he is not. If anything it adds more depth to his moral code. He does not kill because he killed in his first fight, and it did not agree with him.

S: And thus, dear Glaucon, the hero is saved and has not perished. He hath become more grounded than he has been since the first movie, and I for one approve of Mr. Nolan and Mr. Snyder's take.

                                      The original Justice League

Lexi Alexander: Breaking the Blood Splattered Glass Ceiling

America has this weird obsession with the entertainment industry.

Ever since the the dawn of the arts, people have spent their lives entertaining others. There's nothing new or inherently modern about that. But artists or entertainers being this higher species of human, these gods that we can't strive to be or know, that we should obsess over their every whim, that's a recent trend. 

I guess what I'm trying to say is, there are few people in entertainment business who I would truly want to know on a personal level. Few I would want as a friend. Few I would truly admire.

There is one director who I want to be best friends with. Who I think is the coolest woman alive.
And her name, is Lexi Alexander.

THE FACTS:
 Lexi is from Mannheim, Germany (so is Daniel Eckert, my favorite German in the world).
She was the world kickboxing champion at 19.
In her 20s, she played Kitana in Mortal Kombat: Live.

                                          That's her in the blue.

Ok, sidenote:
MORTAL KOMBAT: LIVE!? This was a thing we had in the 90s? How has Buzzfeed never dedicated an article to this?
Man the 90s were absolutely ridiculous. You know, in the most X-TREME way possible.

So, for all of the other badass things Lexi has done, including an Academy Award Nominated Short (which was apparently so good, it made one reviewer say, "Fuck 'Rocky', this is the best film about a boxer that I’ve ever seen."), I am enamored over Lexi for the one major motion picture she ever made.

Punisher: War Zone.

Punisher: War Zone. The 2nd reboot of the Punisher. And if there was ever a character that needed two reboots, it was him.

When Dolph Lundgren played him, he didn't even wear a skull on his chest

And in the Thomas Jane movie, the villain was fat John Travolta.

So when Lexi got to be the director, she wanted her Punisher to be the most Punishy-iest Punisher to ever appear on screen.

We're not talking Wolverine here, who although he's covered in blood in the comics

He somehow stays dry in every X-Men movie...

Nope. We're talking about Frank Castle:

The Punisher is the living embodiment of America's love of violence for violence's sake. Lexi Alexander got that from jump street.

This scene takes place about 5 minutes into the movie. I repeat, this is the opening fucking scene.


The first kill in this movie is a decapitation.
 I would be happy if that was the big finale kill. Nope, this is the opening kill. This movie's beginning looks like any other action movie's ending.
Yeah, this is how the Punisher should work.

And Lexi doesn't just spend the rest of the movie being quintessentially Punisher, she also get's self referential toward other action movies.

This was 2008. Do you remember the stupid wave of pakour scenes in action movies. Punisher: War Zone has a parkour scene...



...in which the little freerunning fucks get bodily disintegrated by Frank Castle's rocket launcher.
And you cheer along.

Now, there have been plenty of R-rated comic book movies: Blade, Sin City, Watchmen.
But none of them, until Punisher: War Zone, have been directed by a woman. 

And it's not like women don't direct action movies, because Katheryn Bigelow.

And it's not like women don't make bloody movies, because Mary Harron

But other than Lexi Alexander, female directors don't overtly try to make stylistically violent shoot 'em up fests like Punisher: War Zone. And why not?

If someone wants to be an inspiration to women in the arts, I see no better way than to beat the boys at their own game: blood and guts. And Lexi made a movie in which the Punisher
a) punches a man through (not in) the face and
b) shoots a man's head off before he can be arrested
IN THE SAME SCENE


We don't have a female Quentin Tarantino, and the only reason why is because this is Lexi's only big movie.

I love this movie, but it bombed in the box office. And mainly, this is because nerds weren't reviewing it. As this movie ages, it gets rectified, by me and my nerds.
When my people did see this movie, we loved it. It was a revelation! I mean, you saw the opening scene; the first kill involves a man's head being cleaved from his neck! That's the Punisher.

And guess what boys, a woman did that. 

 
So there you go; if there was ever a woman I was going to rally behind, and that I would dare to declare a feminist icon, it's gotta be Lexi.
Kickboxer
Kitana
Director of one of the most violent, gore filled, balls to the wall action movies, that makes me jump on my chair and scream "FUCK YES!!! KILL THEM ALL!! WHOOOOO!",

it's Lexi Alexander.
And if I ever meet her, beer's on me.

My Bluths and Me

I never thought I was going to see the day.
I thought the light had gone out forever.
It's been six years, and I feel like a complete person again.

I haven't been able to say this for years; I can't believe actually saying this:

There's new episodes of Arrested Development this weekend!

By now, you all know about the famous/infamous run of Arrested Development. There has never been such a lopsided show in terms of critical acclaim vs ratings. This show had all the buzz and none of the views. It ran on Sunday nights, against the Sopranos, Fox didn't necessarily believe in it. At one point, it's lead in was Michael Rappaport's sitcom "The War at Home", which was one of the worst regarded half hours of television in history.

My brothers Louie, Dean, and I would keep Fox on after the 4:15 pm football game would go off the air and we'd just watch all of the sitcoms. We weren't really into any of them. And one Sunday night, we decided to leave the tv on until that new show, Arrested Development started. I'm not sure how it happened, but it happened; I watched the pilot of Arrested Development as it aired.

I was engrossed. I felt like I was being sucked into the TV.
I had never seen anything like this show, like these jokes. I can still remember the feeling of sheer joy that I felt when they showed Tobias get on the boat full of homosexual protesters, what I feel to be the first real "Arrested Development-y" joke of the series.

 I laughed so hard, I laughed myself into a state of bliss.

How did they do that? They showed the setup after the punchline! I laughed so hard I missed the next joke. This was the most amazing show I had ever seen!

I came to school the next day expecting to talk about this new show all day. No one else in my grade had seen it. No one. I begged everyone I knew to watch it.

The next week came. There's always money in the banana stand! One of the all-time classic TV jokes.

And I went to school that Monday.  One other person saw it. One. A singular being.
How was this possible?

The show went on. The running gags piled up; it rewarded me for being a careful watcher. I felt smart. And it barely got a second season. When the DVDs came out, my brothers and I spent all of time watching the DVDs with other people or loaning them out to our friends. It became our crusade to save this show. The second season was supposed to be it, the end, no more. The fans (all 6 of us) rebelled. We drafted petitions. We got a third season!

Charlize Theron was a guest star for 6 episodes! Yeah, Oscar winner Charlize Theron. And then we got cut from 22 episodes to a meager 13. And the final four episodes were broadcasted on one night, opposite the Winter Olympics opening ceremonies. I didn't watch the final four; I was cheering on my high school in the state basketball tournament. In the grand scheme of things, I wish I could have been there wish the Bluths to say goodbye. They were such an important part of my life. They were my family.

No, I'm not exaggerating.
The Bluths are my family. The Bluths were there for me when I needed it.



I'm about to get real with you guys for a sec.

My family life back in 2003 wasn't good. Hell, I'll say it was fucked up.

My grandfather was on a terribly slow and painful decline. What complicated this ordeal was grandma's death a few years earlier. See, my grandmother was struck and killed by an underage drunk driver. We sued the bar, grandpa got a huge settlement. Then grandpa began to become senile. Suddenly, relatives from everywhere showed up and fought for this dying, senile man's money.
 I won't go into details about the shit my family pulled on one another, because I subscribe to the Kelly Roland school of morality (You know I'm not gonna diss you on the internet cuz my mama taught me better than that).
My extended family crumbled, and my nuclear family suffered as well. My mom withdrew emotionally, and my father was a tyrant around the house. My family life became torture.
My family was torn apart by itself, and I was a helpless teenager, forced to sit back and watch people who were supposed to love each other fight each other like the most bitter of enemies.

What kind of family does this to each other?

I should have been mad at my relatives. It would have easy. The fact was, I just wasn't. I had the backstabbing, dishonest Bluth family to laugh at instead. All of my anger and grief got redirected into laughs at the Bluths. The Bluths are the ultimate dysfunctional family; they made my family squabbles look amateur. And the Bluths fought, but they made up. There was a lot of lying, but a lot of love.

When my family was less than ideal, the Bluths were there for me. I could laugh at my real family's faults in the form of my fake family. Hell, who am I kidding? The Bluths were there for me when I needed it. The Bluths are the reason I am a sane adult today.

The Bluths are members of my real family. 

It was so sad to see them go in 2006. We never thought they'd be back. I mean, the show was almost dead 3 times before the it got mercy killed.

And then I had a fateful conversation with a friend of mine.

Him: Have you heard of netflix instant cue?
Me: No, what is it?
Him: You can stream movies, or entire runs of TV shows.
Me: I guess that's cool.
Him: Dom, you don't get it. I just watched all of Arrested Development. At once.
Me: This is the greatest invention ever.

Next thing I know, all of my friends, all of my minor acquaintances, were in to Arrested Development, the way it was supposed to be viewed- carefully and all at once, so the jokes could just flood you. Thanks Netflix!

It actually kinda sucked at first. Arrested Development was such an obscure show, that I could quote it and use it as my own. Once, I drunkenly knocked over a pinata at a friend's birthday party. Everyone's eyes were instantly drawn to me, and I said, "That was 90 percent gravity..."

Years later, that friend texted me and said "haha. 90 percent gravity. OK Buster".
Suddenly, the world knew I wasn't funny, I was just quoting something obscure. In the same light, I hope Frisky Dingo never gets popular, or everyone will learn where I draw the other half of my one liners...

So anyway, then everyone just started to understand me. As my buddy Joe once told me:

"You know how when people meet someone's parents, they understand that person so much better? Like, 'oh this explains why he acts this way'? Yeah, this is what happens when people watch Arrested Developement; they meet your family."

And that's true. This is my family. And everyone got to meet my family. 
I was happy enough just that my friends got to meet my family; I didn't think they'd be as passionate for them as we all were in the good ol days...

Now it seemed like the whole world wanted my family back.
And it's finally happening. For the first time in years, I get to spend a Sunday night with my family.



I hope you all love the new episodes of Arrested Development. I know they'll be just as crazy and ingenious as they used to be; I believe in Mitch Hurwitz.

No matter what, I still have my family to return to whenever I need them: Michael, George, Lucille, GOB, Lindsay, Tobias, Maeby, George Michael, and Buster. And sometimes Oscar. And Annyong. And I guess Barry counts...and STEVE HOLT!! And Franklin...the list just keeps going...

 -Love Always
Dom Bluth

The Anti Anti-Valentine's Argument

It's Valentine's Day. I don't have a date.
I am not, I repeat, I am NOT complaining.

The ubiquity of social media is a double edged sword. Facebook can tell me what all of my friends are thinking. This can be cool, as I've got friends back home that I don't get to see so often. Facebook really helps with that, thanks Zuck.

But sometimes, you read the worst kind of status updates: privileged people complaining. And no day is worse than Valentine's day.

I am complaining about complaining.

Word is bond, peace to all my friends in relationships today. I mean, that is the idea, to be with someone, and I'm happy for you...even if you spam my Facebook with how much fun you and your SO are having.

But I have so much beef for people who complain on Valetine's Day.
You know the type.

Oh, happy single awareness day. Those fucks are on tumblr who are complaining how they shouldn't be ostracized because they don't have a realtionship.

Why are you complaining?
First off, if you actually worked at being in a relationship all year, you wouldn't be single today. My advice is if you hate "single awareness day", be aware of this feeling on more days than just today and you might fix it.

But somehow, we have declared Valentine's Day the one holiday it's alright to complain about not celebrating.

Do Jewish people complain about not having Christmas?
Do French people complain about a lack of 4th of July?

 Let me put this in perspective for you.

My Aunt died in 2004. She left behind a husband and four sons.
I have never seen any of them get on Facebook on mother's day and complain about how it's unfair that they don't have a mom.

You know what, it IS unfair. The youngest son was 3 when his mom died. They have every right to complain that your bragging about having a mom makes them feel bad.

And they don't.
When people complain about not having a date for Valentine's Day, I think of all the people who don't have mom's for mother's day, or dad's for father's day. Those people never post pictures of Grumpy Cat.
There are worse things to be without than a date on Valentines.

Me, while I am single, I'm using this day to remember the other holidays I can celebrate.
I have a father and a step father for father's day. And they both love fathers day, because I actually get them ties they like.
I have presents for Christmas.
I have traditions for Christmas Eve.
I have food on Thanksgiving.
Hell, I have such a tight knit group of friends back home that we made our own holiday; I have friends on Jewsgiving.
I have a mom on mothers day.
And I have a mom who sends me and my roommates a heart shaped box of cookies on Valentine's Day, which we eat almost immediately. They were REALLY good cookies.

Happy Valentine's Day. Happy Mother's Day. Be Happy. Everyday.

The Essential Question Bowl

It's almost the Super Bowl. In case you're a fan of Sportball (that's the pointy one), I'll let my good friends at NMA in Taiwan catch you up:

Fun fact- when you go behind in football, there is actually a hole you get to dig out of!

Yes that's right! Brother against brother! Jim vs Jon. Who wins the Harbowl?

Let's get to the real winner here: the Harbaugh family. There is some sort of Super football gene in the DNA of the Harbaughs. Let's give a round of applause to the Harbaugh and their super genes!

And this is their Shiny versions:

Really rare.

But for every Ferdinand III

There is always a Charles II in the family...

And the inbred monstrosity of the Harbsurg family is their first cousin, Screech.

 Yes according to an episode of Saved By the Bell (technically Saved by the Bell the New Class, so ignore it if you want), Screech is miraculously first cousins with Jim Harbaugh.


He is the real loser of the Harbowl.

But that's not the only storyline at hand here; it's Ray Lewis' final game.

Who is Ray Lewis, for the uninitiated in the realms of Sportball?
Ray Lewis is Professor X.

 Ray has been the heart and soul of the Ravens pretty much since their inception.
However, now he is all but paralyzed.

He has Robo bits
Yet as long as he is leading the defense, presumably telepathically barking orders from his wheelchair, the Ravens can not fail. To the point where if you are going to beat this team, your first course of action would be to take him out of the game; just like Prof X in X-Men, X2, and The Last Stand. Keep him in the game, and he can lead a bunch of teenagers to defeat the Soviet and American navies...

Now Ray has always been an emotional guy. But this postseason, he's kind of been insane.

Like, seriously moodswingy crazy couckoo banana town pants.

You know someone is crazy when SNL doesn't exaggerate in their portrayal of them:


And while I usually pick the superbowl based on who's life story would make a better Disney movie, and while Ray's last ride is the final act of his heartwarming story, there something else here that I have to acknowledge.

This guy

49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick. Holy Scotsman.

This is what Colin looks like from the front:

Now I know how people say tattoos turn your body into a work of art. And I am a tattooed man, and I'd like to believe my shoulder is a work of art.
But holy shit, look at his back:

As proud as I am for a man like this being a sports star, I am equally disappointed at the criticism he is getting for his tattoos from the older generation of sports fans and sports writers.

Even to the point of him being compared to a convicted felon...
For crying out loud; they're bible verses and angels! How is that a impolite thing to display on your body? I am all for Colin, and all for the way he looks. This isn't just him getting "tatted" while he's wasted- his personality, his heart and soul is outwardly manifested on his body and I couldn't applaud him enough.

But the real essential question of the Harbowl isn't the which brother or Ray's last game of Colin's tattoos.
There must be one question you ask yourself about the Harbowl:
Do you value brute force or finesse?

Because the Baltimore Ravens will always be a bloodthirsty brood out to ravage opposing offenses, leaving a trail of broken bones and rattled brains in their wake.

Even though he has been proven innocent in a court of law, no one can mention Ray Lewis without implying he's a murder.

But the 49ers are such a finesse team. That isn't to say they don't hit hard, tell that to Patrick Willis, but the Niners win games with elusive speed and explosiveness. The 49ers can maneuver around any obstacle.

Now I know that Ravens play traditional smashmouth football, a sort of old way of life that is being threatened by the new rules in the NFL. But don't limit this analogy.
You have to ask yourself, do you want to solve your problems with grace, or by running head first into everything.
I'd rather be graceful. And that's why I can't root for the Ravens.
Go Niners.