Treacle
Treat!
 Recipe:
Begin with one dog brain. It doesn't have to
be particularly fresh. Now roll it in several
layers of tripe to form a large ball. Boil
this vigorously for several hours until all
the
flavor is gone
and then cool
it down to room temperature.
Now
apply light heat
to two pounds of Belgian chocolate in a large
pot
until it has melted evenly, then begin to ladle
it over the brain/tripe ball
until completely coated.
While still warm apply to the outside of the
coated ball a small box of Junior Mints, a
half-dozen chocolate donuts, a handful of moose
turds
and twenty-seven
sparklers. Light sparklers and serve immediately.
Serves 30 million.
That, my friends, is the recipe for Iron Man 2, the movie.
As you may be guessing, I made the mistake of renting this cretinous production
this weekend thinking I might get at least an ironic laugh or two for my $1 rental
fee.
Little
did
I
know I
could
have
had more enjoyment performing a do-it-yourself-lobotomy employing nothing more
than
bent
paper-clips and a can of out-of-date Romanian Cheez-Whiz.
Let me state in its defense that the movie looked great. These guys really know
their way around a green screen, really know
how
to
blow
stuff
up, and the actors weren't continously projectile vomiting in reaction to
the lines
they
were employed to recite.
That and the fact that the cast included Gary Shandling portraying a devious
Jewish senator who somehow made Joe Lieberman look good. Kudos for that. (Why
was
he
devious?
Wish I knew.)
Speaking of vomit, the script
was
seemingly
written
by
person or persons
who
haven't
the foggiest notion, or who could care less, about
physics, chemistry, mathematics, diplomacy or basic human psychology as applied
to storytelling.
I
refer
to
this
kind
of script as "12-year-olds writing for 13-year-olds."
It is anti-science-fiction of the worst kind.
Lest you think I exaggerate, the main character creates a new element in his
rumpus
room
one afternoon using a particle accelerator and some high-powered lasers he
conveniently
kept
in
the
basement
of
his
swinging
bachelor pad. Not only that, but the element is highly radioactive and the first
thing
he does is shove it inside his chest.
This, of course, counts as the height of drama in Iron Man 2.
They used to make this type of movie back in the 30s and 40s but they made them
for
about a $127 and change and, most importantly, they made them for kids. You know,
the kids
of
the 30s and 40s who dug through the weeds collecting pop bottles to make enough
money
for
a
movie
ticket and a Zagnut bar. That, unfortunately, is not who ponied up a quarter-gazillion
box-office
dollars
for this magnificent bolus of treacle. It was people with families and jobs and, Cthulhu
help
me,
people
who vote.
=Lefty=
|
