Better
Get Your Bucket
 You
know about the Bucket List, right? It's this
self-entitled boomer fantasy that a person's
life will magically have deeper meaning if
they create an inventory of all the goofy,
pointless shit they need to do before they
die and, on the odd eventuality that they bother
to turn off the TV and get off the couch, actually
undertake them.
You know the sort of things I mean... snort
a line of coke off Angelina Jolie's uvula or
rock-climb Mount Rushmore in a bunny suit or
hang-glide with Joe Biden over an active volcano.
For you, personally, creating one of these
things may be a hoot but listening to someone
enumerate their Bucket List is like enduring
a recitation of this weird dream they had
last night after eating a whole broccoli-and-goat-cheese
pizza.
Shoot me.
Look, if you have to make a Bucket List you're
automatically a loser anyway. You see, the
rich and powerful don't make bucket lists...
they LIVE the bucket list. Every goddamn day.
Sadly, this usually manifests itself as 300-foot
yachts with the bilges crammed full of underage
Phillipino sex slaves but, hey, it's not near
as exciting as refilling propane tanks down
at
the Walgreens. Right?
Yet, despite all my kvetching I have, believe
it or not, a bucket list of my own. Here it
is:
(1) Leave behind as small a greasy stain on
this benighted planet as possible.
------------
Beloved Girlfriend and I went
to see The King's Speech this weekend.
Nothing explodes, there were no rapid-cut action
shots and no one was killed by a crazed lunatic
hovering just off-camera. It's the intriguing story
of a king and his speech threrapist.
It was wonderful.
Still, it's rated R for language. Seriously. The King's Speech is limited
to the same audience as Saw. That's like comparing O'Doul's and MD 20/20.
Corvairs and Corvettes. Charles Nelson Reilly and Charlie Sheen.
What's more idiotic than this is that Hollywood is busy bowdlerizing the film
in order to make it more acceptable to general audiences.
In case you're one of those people who believe that certain words will crumble
your RNA like so much Melba toast and result in your being sent to the hot place
below where guys with horns prod the Damned with pitch-forks, look away now because
here they are, hot off the soundtrack:
Fuck. Shit. Tits.
That's it.
You could probably hear worse than that on America's
Funniest Home Videos... from a cat. And this
is not Glengarry Glen Ross as the invectives
only fly for a very brief, non-gratuitous time. (BTW,
please go watch Glengarry Glen Ross if you haven't
already. It, too, is a very worthy film.)
Please, do not encourage Hollywood's continuing reach-around of the lowest
common denominator by supporting the PG-13 version of The
King's Speech with your hard-earned cash.
The R version is, in any sane world, a G-rated film.
------------
 Hey,
guess what?
Fox News continues to lie.
Tell your local
cable provider to remove them from your monthly
bill.
=Lefty=
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