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Treacle Treat!

TreacleRecipe: 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have had more enjoyment performing a do-it-yourself-lobotomy employing nothing more than bent paper-clips and a can of out-of-date Romanian Cheez-Whiz.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.


Bonus John Boehner

What's on Mike's iPod?
"The Wailing of the Willow" by Harry Nilsson

end rant

Raging Pencils salutes the Mystery Readers of
Florence, Italy
Whoever you are, thanks for reading my acrophobic little 'toon.

Today's guilt by association is:


Raging Pencils is a sweet conceit of:

Mike Stanfill, Private Hand
Mike Stanfill, Private Hand
IllustrationFlash AnimationWeb Design



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Today's Google Chow.

Title: Trickle-down architecture.

Reginald: "Beatrice, we've now lived in this penthouse for thirty years. I think we should consider finishing the structure for future generations to enjoy... someday. Heh-heh-heh."

Beatrice: "Oh, Reginald. You're so droll."