A New Fear Awakens

I’m excited about Star Wars: The Force Awakens. I have been since it was announced. And nothing I’ve seen since then has given me cause for concern.

There have been no pod races. No midiclorians. No one seems to have been told to act as wooden as possible.

So, I’m left with only excitement, or the ability to create brand new things to be worried about right out of my own little noggin. Which, of course, is what I just did. Just now. Five minutes ago. With no external prompting. And rather than keep this nonsense to myself, I want to share it with you.

I was thinking about Harrison Ford, and how exciting its been to see him in the trailers with Chewbacca and with all the younger, new characters. And then I was thinking how unlikely it was that Harrison Ford had signed on to a three-picture deal, which may or may not be accurate.

And then, I thought of 90210.

I was less excited when The CW brought us back to West Beverly High School than I am for Star Wars, but that may only be because it would seem strange to be this excited about that. I was, however, pretty excited.

Especially when I learned that Jennie Garth was coming back. There was going to be a tangible connection to Beverly Hills, 90210.

And then, they said Nat was coming back. And then. Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Stop the clock! Shannen Doherty was coming back.

There were 1000 ways this could still be terrible, but the idea that they could convince Brenda to return from London was pretty amazing. No one thought that would ever happen.

In much the same way no one ever thought Harrison Ford would play Han Solo again. Largely because both Ford and Doherty (this marking the first time the two have been mentioned in the same sentence in the history of mankind) had said they would never go back to play those roles again.

Scoring Jennie Garth was cool, but it seemed about as hard to do as scoring Anthony Daniels.

Then, you know what happened? Probably not, because the Venn Diagram of Star Wars fans and 90210 fans has about three people in the intersecting segment. The show was almost entirely about the new kids at West Bev. Kelly had some stuff to do, and Brenda and Donna came back for brief story arcs, but after the first season, Kelly had less to do and the focus shifted entirely to Annie, and Dixon, and the rest of the gang.

And that’s when I realized that Star Wars was about to do that too.

I have no idea what The Force Awakens is about, on purpose. I don’t want to know. But it’s going to be about Finn, and Poe, and Rae and by episode VIII, someone may say, “Han had to go back to London to adopt a baby,” or something, and that will be that.

This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, after all lots of kids would be lucky to be adopted by Han Solo. And it’s most certainly necessary to continue the story in perpetuity like Disney plans.

But, I was suddenly filled with the fear that this transition would leave me wanting.

Which is a dumb thing to fear, because I have no power to change this one way or another and the story is what it is. But there it is anyway. Star Wars is about to go all 90210 on us.

You’ve been warned.

But don’t be afraid of that. Because fear is the path to the dark side.

On What ESPN No Longer Wants To Be, Or Is, As Of Today

A little over a year ago I went to a conversation at Colombia College here in Chicago between my friend Sam Weller and one of my favorite authors, Chuck Klosterman. This was right around the end of Bill Simmons’ suspension for calling Roger Goodell a liar and then challenging ESPN to suspend him for it.

Klosterman, a friend of Simmons’ and co-founder of Grantland.com, was, of course, asked about Simmons’ suspension and his response was interesting, 100% correct, and extremely prescient. He made the very obvious point that Simmons wasn’t suspended for calling Goodell a liar, so much as he was suspended for publicly challenging his employer to suspend him.

When you go public and dare your employer to discipline you, there’s only one way that can end.

But, the thing he said that really struck me as true, and has turned out to predict the 12 months since then, is that, and I’m paraphrasing here, Bill Simmons is the single most important employee ESPN has from an on-screen and behind the scenes perspective, what with the creation of grantland.com, his incredible popularity, and his guiding hand in the creation of the 30 for 30 series. And he’s not even 1/100th as important as any game they put on the air.

Because sports fans want to watch sports. And they want to watch their team play. I’m an IU fan, and if IU is playing on ESPN, I’m tuning in, whether Bill Simmons, Keith Olbermann, Colin Cowherd, Andy Greenwald, Alex Papademus, Rembert Browne, Chris Ryan, Wesley Morris, Jason Whitlock, or Tony Kornheiser works there.

Btw, if 12 months ago you had Tony Kornheiser in the pool of last in that group to still be working at ESPN you’re now shocked to find that you were right.

Today, ESPN announced that they were pulling the plug on Grantland.com. A move that was inevitable after Simmons’ firing, and the subsequent exodus of all of the talent that made Grantland an innovative place filled with interesting content written by smart people.

ESPN, largely in reaction to the change in how cable channels are making their money (the rise of a la carte programming means fewer subscribers to the cable tiers that house the ESPN family of networks and fewer subscribers means less revenue) and the rising cost of securing the rights to broadcast NFL, NBA, NCAA, and MLB games, has decided to get almost completely out of the business of having smart people create interesting content and focus their money-efforts almost entirely on games, games, and more games.

And this change would make me sad, except all of those smart, interesting, and creative people listed above aren’t dead.

Simmons, after a forced hiatus has reemerged in podcast form and will land on TV again in 2016 on HBO. He’s also hired away some great talent from Grantland.com to help him build his next venture, whatever that is.

Cowherd is now on Foxsports, along with Jason Whitlock, and the Grantland talent that hasn’t followed Simmons has landed elsewhere, like the New York Times, and more of them may be joining him now that Grantland is dead.

Hell, Simmons might be able to lease the Grantland office space back if he wants and hang a new sign on the door. Stranger things have happened.

Since this summer, my podcast feed has started to run dry with The Hollywood Prospectus, BS Report, and Do You Like Prince Movies all ending. And now, with the official end of Grantland, and the return of the Bill Simmons podcast, maybe the others will rise from the ashes as well.

More importantly, maybe they’ll read this and hire me to help them build whatever is next.

Because a place on-line where smart, talented, people write about sports and pop culture is something I need. And someplace I should be working, if we’re being honest about it.

So, I’m sad for the death of Grantland, but from its ashes a number of great things can come that aren’t tied to the subscriber base of cable and satellite providers and the whims of a changing commercial landscape.

And I could work there.

What Playboy Can Learn From Krusty the Clown

This morning, the world awoke to the news that as of March 2016 Playboy magazine would no longer publish pictures of naked women in their magazines. Not for any new-found morality about the female bosom, but because there’s just no money in it anymore.

Scott Flanders, Playboy’s CEO, told the New York Times. “You’re now one click away from every sex act imaginable for free. And so it’s just passé at this juncture.”

It seems that playboy.com went non-nude a while ago, and they’ve found their web traffic increase and their demographic skew younger. But the reaction I’ve seen all over is confusion as to the point of having Playboy without the single defining characteristic of Playboy. And that’s a fair response.

Would you go to Starbucks anymore if they stopped selling coffee?

So, where does Playboy magazine go from here?

I’m sure they have a plan, but I’d like to offer a suggestion. And it’s one that proved successful over 20 years ago for a famous show within another cartoon show.

In the season three finale of The Simpsons, Krusty the Clown got some direct competition from Gabbo, a ventriloquist dummy show. His rating dipped and Krusty Gets Kancelled.

Worried about the idol, Bart and Lisa find Krusty standing on a street corner, holding a sign reading, “Will Drop Pants for Food.”

Bart asks Krusty, “Are you making any money?”

“Nah,” Krusty replied, “That guy’s giving it away for free.”

Will drop pants for food

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So, Krusty called all of his famous friends, and they put together an All-Star TV Extravaganza, Krusty’s Comeback Special. 

The Red Hot Chili Peppers performed.

Johnny Carson juggled cars

Sideshow Luke Perry got shot out of a canon

Bette Midler sings with Krusty

And HUGH HEFNER PLAYED PETER AND THE WOLF ON WINE GLASSES!

Playboy has the same problem. There’s nothing wrong with what they’re offering, but there’s a guy right in front of them giving it away for free. Same problem. Same solution.

So, playboy, look no further than your own board room.

Host an all-star magazine extravaganza, have Bette Midler sing a song, censor the Red Hot Chili Peppers lyrics, shoot Luke Perry out of a canon, and get Hef to play the wine glasses.

Is there a better solution out there? Hef has already done this once, and Playboy’s CEO is named Flanders for the love of doodily.

It put Krusty back on top (it didn’t hurt that Gabbo called the kids in his audience “SOBs” with a live mic, so maybe have the free porn sites say something mildly offensive to drive away their audience as well).

If Playboy can pull this off, they’ll be swimming in ruby-crusted clown noses.

Pandemonium

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XGzoVybc32U

Pandemonium was the second movie shown on the second episode of USA Up All Night and aired on January 14, 1989. It was a complete departure for Up All Night in that this movie had actual actors in it.

Set in the great state of Indiana at world renown college It Had To Be U where, despite a long history of murders during Cheerleader Camps, a wannabe cheerleader decides to reopen the camp.

And the only person who can save cheerleaders, Mandy, Randy, Candy, Andy, Sandy, and Glenn, is Yo-Yo Man himself, Tommy Smothers, as a member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, and his sidekick, Pee Wee Herman.

It’s meant to be a spoof with gags like Eve Arden playing the warden of a prison. And her name is Warden June. Get it? Like Leave It To Beaver, Ward and June. Get it?

There are escaped convicts and escaped mental patients. And murder. And lots of gags centered around Tommy Smothers’ horse.

But none of that is what’s important about this film.

If you love anything that happened in comedy in the 80s, you owe Pandemonium a debt of gratitude because this movie is directly connected to almost everything that happened on TV or in the movies for the entire decade.

Don’t believe me. How’s this for other projects the actors in this movie also appeared in during the 80s.

Beverly Hills Cop

Back to the Future

Gremlins

Teen Wolf

Clue

Three Amigos

Planes, Trains, & Automobiles

Pee Wee’s Playhouse

Princess Bride

Cheers

Night Court

Fast Times at Ridgemont High

Back to School

Private Benjamin

The Dukes of Hazzard

M*A*S*H

Superman II, III, and IV

And so much more.

I also made you a handy infographic displaying all of these connections.

Pandemonium

And what more needs to be said about the movie that is the Dark Tower of 80s entertainment? All paths serve the beam, and the beam connects at Pandemonium.

I’m not suggesting that you need to go watch Pandemonium. In fact, that’s actually a small challenge to accomplish. But I am saying that you may not know it, but you owe so much to Pandemonium and don’t really want to live in a world without it.

20 Things That Would Have Been Better Than The Unauthorized Beverly Hills 90210 Story

Before I get back to my USA Up All Night mission, I need to take a moment to address the one thing everyone expects me to address. Namely, The Unauthorized Beverly Hills 90210 Story.

Of course I watched it.

I have almost no idea what this was supposed to be. But I can tell you a few things it could have been that would have been better.

  1. An open apology to Douglas Emerson for pretending like he didn’t exist.
  2. An even bigger “you’re welcome” to Douglas Emerson for pretending he didn’t exist.
  3. A two-hour interview with Lucy Liu on what it was like to work at the Peach Pit.
  4. A conversation with Matt Durning’s sweater vests.
  5. Ray Pruit: Behind the Music
  6. The Derrick Driscoll Man hunt.
  7. The lost episode of Oz that was focused on Colin Robbins.
  8. A full concert of all of David Silver’s songs performed in their entirety.
  9. A trial of the hairdresser that did that to Emily Valentine’s hair when she kept Brandon for catching fire with Kelly.
  10. A conversation with Felice Martin on why she’s voting for Donald Trump in 2016, because you know she is.
  11. A full day shadowing Arnold Arnold at work.
  12. Dylan McKay actually reading Byron: The Collected Works.
  13. A 30 for 30 on the playing career of D’Shawn Hardell.
  14. An evening with Tuck, 20 years later.
  15. A lock-in at Shaw High School.
  16. A forensic accounting of all the money every owner of the Peach Pit After Dark lost over the years.
  17. An investigative report into the spray tan machine that turned Donna Martin orange for Steve’s 21st birthday party.
  18. Two hours of Morton Muntz in a sombrero.
  19. Diesel Stone playing the keytar on a continuous loop.
  20. Nat hosting a cooking class

That’s 20 things that would have been better than this lifetime tire fire.

I Was a Teenage TV Terrorist

https://youtu.be/UGPeew2AcKM

At first glance, I Was a Teenage TV Terrorist, the first movie shown on the January 14, 1989 episode of USA Up All Night appears to be an unfunny hodgepodge of nonsense, but as I’ve begun to discover about the films on Up All Night there’s much more going on here than meets the eye.

To the untrained observer this is the story of Paul Pierce (not THAT Paul Pierce) and Donna Rose, two teenagers who move to New York when Paul’s mother gets finished exercising. She yells at Paul about some stuff, but as none of it makes any sense, the best I can figure is she sent him off to New York to live with his father so she could exercise some more. And Paul, because he has Donna’s phone number it seems, takes her with him.

Paul’s father is the VP of marketing for a television station and immediately gives them both non-descript jobs sorting things and writing other things on a notepad while getting yelled at by their boss. A lady boss. He also gives them a room in a condemned building where they can live.

Through a series of events that aren’t worth remembering, much less explaining, Paul and Donna become fake terrorists, leaving fake bombs made of tampons at the TV station, causing power outages, reversing the vacuum cleaners, and generally causing havoc. This is mostly to get back at their lady boss and at Paul’s dad, largely for being adults, and a little bit for sexual harassment.

Until they are discovered by one of the station’s news anchors, who threatens to turn them into the police as fake terrorists, unless they become real terrorists and do as he says. They kidnap the president of the network, as well as the anchor, on live TV and take them both to the next stage over to decry the media and lay out their demands.

It’s a great way to get caught and arrested, except, Paul had recorded the anchor, and when he played that recording back, the anchor flipped on the real power behind the terrorist plots, Paul’s dad, the VP of Marketing.

Now, on its face, none of this makes any sense at all. Paul’s dad had nothing to do with the tampon bomb plot, or in the pawn shop thievery Paul had been involved in that I didn’t bother to tell you about because it makes less sense than the fake-terrorist-tampon-bomb plot, but it seems Paul’s dad was really running all of this just to get rid of his boss, Mr. Frank Romance. There were a few plot threads about workplace sexual harassment with their first boss, and then with Mr. Romance and Donna, but those turn out to be red herrings.

The key to unlocking the secret to I Was a Teenage TV Terrorist is in listening to the statement the anchor claimed came from the leader of the terrorist organization, The White Glove.

“They call themselves the Collective for a Clear Channel. They will stop at nothing to destroy what they see as the morally corrupt powers that control the entertainment industry. They see Romance Company as one of the most blatant examples of the corruption.”

You get it right?

This film was pure propaganda. Put out by the one company in 1985 who had already glimpsed the future of media deregulation that would begin in seven years. By making this all seem like the deranged work of two teenagers whose strings were being pulled by the sonsofbitches in the marketing department, and using those characters to decry the “morally corrupt powers that control the entertainment industry”…

Hold on. I think I’m getting ahead of myself a little bit here. I think a brief history lesson might be helpful here.

Up until 1992 there were rules in place which limited ownership of radio and tv stations. Under the law one company could not own more than two stations in any given market, and there was, I believe, a cap on total station ownership nationwide, as well as limits to ownership of both the production, distribution, and broadcast sides of the business. And by the business, I mean the industry.

To hear them tell it, the goal of this type of government overreach was to keep a balance in the media and not allow exclusive control of information, news, and entertainment to fall into the hands of a few select corporations.

These were relaxed in 1992 and in 1996, the aptly named Telecommunications Act of 1996 almost completely deregulated media ownership.

But in 1985, the time of I Was a Teenage TV Terrorist, the draconian rules of the morally corrupt government in Washington, D.C. were still in effect. Paul and Donna were just the mouth piece of a movement. A very subtle corporate campaign to get this type of regulation overturned.

Seen as either misguided teenagers, props of corporate interests, or rebels against the media landscape that was raising our children as both parents went to work and left their children at home, alone, Paul and Donna delivered their message. The media is bad. And the people running it are turning your children into mindless terrorists.

And those zombie-creating media-controllers are the senators and congressmen responsible for these laws.

Is it any wonder, that ten years after Paul and Donna kidnapped Mr. Romance and called for a “Clear Channel” that Clear Channel Communications went from owning four stations in Texas and Oklahoma to owning over 70 media companies across the country?

And just in case you missed all the signs that this was the beginning of a coordinated effort at consolidating control of the media under the control of Clear Channel Communications, in 2014 Clear Channel Communications changed their name to iHeartRadio.

Mr. Romance.

iHeartRadio.

Don’t you see!!!!!

You disguise the real message inside 85 minutes of pure idiocy. Cast Walt Wiley, All My Children‘s Jackson Montgomery, as the TV Anchor, and John A. MacKay, Dean from Krush Groove, as Paul’s dad, to add some near-legitimacy. And confuse the issue with sexual harassment overtones.

And suddenly, you’ve planted the seeds of a media deregulation REVOLUTION!

If you can’t see that, you’re either blind, or looking the other way to cash your dividend checks from iHeartMedia.

Sell out.

The One Thing About Donald Trump that No One is Saying

Donald Trump is completely in my head. But not in the way you might think. Let me explain.

About a year ago I was having trouble sleeping. Not falling to sleep. Generally that wasn’t a problem. My problem would come in the middle of the night when either my son woke me up, or I had to pee or something and I woke up just enough for a thought to creep in and take hold. That thought would take hold. It would lead to another, which would lead to another. and suddenly I was too awake and engaged with my own thoughts to go back to sleep.

I’m sure this experience is not unique to me. Millions of people every night have this exact same experience.

Here’s how I decided to deal with it.

I started meditating.

I’d been curious about this, but didn’t really know how to do it, or where to go to learn that didn’t involve Prudence Farrow and my manager dying unexpectedly. So, I found a couple of guided meditation CDs and a great app called Headspace. I’ve become a bit of a zealot about it. Recommending it to everyone I know regardless of their particular ailment. I try not to be that guy. But, sometimes I am a bit.

That’s not what this is, though. Don’t worry. I’m going to get back to Donald Trump.

So, here’s the thing with meditation. So much of it, at least at the beginning, is about accepting those thoughts that either gently try to get your attention (I think I need gas when I go out) or try to violently impose themselves upon your world view or your view of your self (I’m a failure at my job. I’m powerless to change my life. Why do people hate me? Man, I’m awesome at everything!). Accepting them and then letting them go.

You can’t control your thoughts. You can’t stop them. They’re going to come, but you’re not really the one making them come. The only thing you can control is how you respond to them.

The impact all of these thoughts have is completely up to you. So, through meditation, if you can learn to look at those thoughts and say, “Oh, look at you. Aren’t you cute, trying to be all helpful like that? Thanks for stopping by.” then those thought float on through and you can go on about your business, or in my case go back to sleep.

And it’s been a huge help.

So, Donald Trump.

As we got into the last Republican debate last week, I made the point to a friend that if I were one of the other people on stage with him, I’d just ignore him. Attacking him doesn’t work. It only makes him stronger and people seem more interested in him and what he’s doing. But, if anytime a question was asked about Trump, Jeb! decided to talk about something else, if anytime Trump attacked Ted Cruz, Cruz ignored the attack and instead starting talking his own brand of crazy, if anytime Trump mentioned Chris Christie, Christie just looked the other way and talked about something he cared about, the power Trump has goes away.

Trump is a dumpster fire that requires fuel.

And it’s tempting to give him that fuel, because he’s entertaining.

And that’s how he’s exactly like those thoughts that keep you up at night.

He’s going to keep talking, just like those thoughts are going to keep trying to get your attention. We’re not making him talk and we can’t stop him from talking. But we can give him all the attention he deserves:

“Oh, look at you. Aren’t you cute, trying to be all helpful like that? Thanks for stopping by.”

My thoughts require my attention to gain traction and disrupt what I’m doing. And so does Donald Trump.

Donald Trump is in my head because he is my thoughts and my thoughts are Donald Trump.

The comfort and clarity this has provided in both my sleep cycle and my attention and focus on this presidential race is without measure.

I will now return my focus to my breath.

One of the Men They Call Sting

Dana Carvey had this bit years and years ago about the, let’s call it ‘testicular fortitude’ of being a kid named Gordon deciding to change his name to a verb – present tense. You can watch it here. Be forewarned. He used a curse word.

https://youtu.be/7fMVE_8vHXU

And as right as he is about that, can you imagine what it takes to not only change your name to a verb – present tense, but to change it to a verb – present tense, that someone else has already chosen as their verb-based name? Luckily for us, we don’t have to imagine it. It happened.

Steve Borden, a midwestern kid in his mid-20s, trying to make it in the world of professional wrestling first changed his name to a verb in 1985, when he adopted the moniker, Flash, a name already held by two different DC Comics hero’s, Jay Gerrick, and Barry Allen. But the name of Flash was short-lived for Steve, perhaps because he learned it wasn’t original, but probably not. Perhaps because he bore no resemblance to a super-speedster in a red suit, but probably not.

Because in 1986, two years after The Police broke up, and in the midst of Sting (Gordon Sumner, not Steve Borden)’s triple platinum debut solo success, Steve Borden swapped one verb-based name that was already in use for another verb-based name that was already in use. No one will confuse us, the thinking went, because one of us is a world-famous musician from England, slight of build and with spikey blonde hair, and one of us is a platinum blonde body-builder with midwestern roots and a California upbringing, who paints his face and screams, “Woooo!”

And it worked.

Sting became a massive success in the professional wrestling world. And no one ever said, “Isn’t it weird that this guy changed his name to a verb that someone else was already using as their name?”

But you know what else no one else said was weird about Sting, that in retrospect maybe should have come up once or twice? It’s that “Wooo!” thing.

There was one other guy who was a bigger star in the WCW, the wresting promotion where Sting made his name (or also, made Sting into a name, or where he made Sting his name. I don’t know anymore.) His name was Ric Flair. The Nature Boy! Who, coincidentally is not the first wrestler to call himself “Nature Boy” That honor goes to “Nature Boy” Buddy Rogers, and then to  “Nature Boy” Buddy Landel, before Flair took it as his own, but that’s neither here nor there.

If there’s anything you know about Ric Flair, it’s probably that he’s a limousine ridin’, jet flyin’, kiss stealin’, wheelin’ dealin’, son of a gun. You might also know that he’s known for his stylin’ and profilin’. Or quite possibly that he’s known to shout “WOOOOOOOOOO!” as loud and as often as he can.

Something else that Sting saw, liked, and pretended was his own.

And no one seemed bothered by this.

Possibly because Flair was the third Nature Boy and people were just letting everything slide at this point.

But it’s weird right? This guy took two verb-based names that were already widely in use and then copied his signature “Woooo!” from someone else who had taken as his nickname something that had been used twice before, with pretty great popularity.

So it should come as no surprise that Sting’s greatest move as a professional wrestler was when he quit dying his hair blonde, changed his face paint and went from a California body-builder-type to a complete replica of Brandon Lee in The Crow. And he did this while another wrestler was pretending to be Sting. His allegiances were called into question, as was his identity. But you know what no one said? “Hey, how come Sting is stealing this Crow gimmick from the dead son of a martial arts legend?”

As I watched Sting last night in the WWE Night of Champions, I finally had all of these thoughts and wondered why it took 30 years to realize how odd this all was.

Imagine just one of these things happening today.

We’d all raise an eyebrow if John Cena decided to call himself Diddy, or T-Pain, or Jay-Z. Or Bono. He’d probably be sued for trademark infringement, or at the very least gimmick infringement, which is a real thing that wrestlers accuse each of doing with good reason (see: above example of three guys named “Nature Boy” or there being two Stings at once in the mid-1990s).

People would call shenanigans if a John Cena tried to adopt “If you smell what the Rock is cooking” or “That’s the bottom line cuz Stone Cold says so” and act like it wasn’t already famously being used by someone more famous than they are.

Or, let’s say John Cena suddenly started dressing as Michael Keaton’s character from Birdman. That would be weird, yes?

Now, let’s say John Cena did all of those things.

All of which is to say, isn’t the career of Sting the damnedest thing you’ve ever heard of from start to finish?

Stuck on You!

https://youtu.be/Oq6ntwLmWQ0

 

The second movie in my USA Up All Night! series, and the second movie broadcast that first wonderful night is called Stuck On You! and was chosen, as best I can figure, as an endurance test for the 1989 television audience and a challenge to me personally for choosing to do this.

Someone, an angel, I assume, tells God that there’s a problem on earth that they can help with. He doesn’t bother to explain what that problem is, only that Gabriel is the only one around to send, and he’ll probably mess it up. Oh, well. Send him anyway. “After all,” says God. “You can’t make an omelet without breaking some eggs.”

And then, the cartoon hand of God spins the earth, turns it into an egg, which immediately cracks and births a chicken.

What follows makes an equal amount of sense. And is almost as funny.

Bill and Carol are suing each other for palimony after the dissolution of their POSSLQ situation. Carol punches Bill and the whole courtroom erupts into chaos. There’s a golfer with a club wrapped around his neck, arguing with another golfer, cheerleaders, bowlers, tennis players, a nun gut punching a priest, and a courtroom filled with people who have the word “palimony” taped to their mouths to reinforce Judge Gabriel’s assertion that it’s a word that’s on everyone’s lips these days.

I could present you with example after example of what, I think, are supposed to be jokes, but none of them are better than that one and besides, this movie isn’t about jokes. It isn’t even about love, as it purports to be. No. Stuck on You! is an indictment of the legal system and a condemnation of activist judges.

Judge Gabriel, takes these two into his chambers and proceeds lecture them on the history of love. His use of flashbacks to cavemen, Romans, Columbus, Attila the Hun, Michelangelo, and more to elucidate any number of unclear points, combined with his use of a Barbie and a Ken doll that he makes fight each, and interspersed with Bill and Carol explaining their relationship and what went wrong, also through flashbacks whose primary intent may well have been comedy. Much of it involved Bill’s work at a poultry plant and his desire to increase egg production.

It was clear from the start that Judge Gabriel had no control over the proceedings in his court room. The overcrowded and raucous atmosphere, the filmmaker’s clear indictment of televised courtroom programs of the day, like the People’s Court, and a warning agains the type of media exploitation of the legal process we would see a decade later during the O.J. Simpson trial.

And Gabriel, demonstrating a total lack of understanding of a judge’s role in legal proceedings or a disregard for what was being asked of him as a judge in a palimony suit, took it upon himself to try to get Bill and Carol to see the value of their love for one another and push them into each other’s arms, and thus earning his wings.

Regardless of the underpinnings of Gabriel’s actions, his motives never changed. Bastardize the legal process for his own personal gains. No thought was given to whether these two people should be together. In fact, no instruction was ever given that this was the intent of God or his angel-advisor. As far as the audience knows, Gabriel might be forcing together two people who will give birth to the anti-Christ. Which, also might have been God’s intent here. It’s very hard to say.

What is easy to say, however, is that through Gabriel’s over-reach as a family court judge, anyone awake between 1:00-3:00 am on  January 8, 1989 and watching USA was subjected to possibly the worst movie ever made.

The only thing that saved this experience for those viewers is that Cheerleader Beach Party came on both before and after Stuck On You!.

Pagano and Grigson – The Problem No One is Talking About

The Indianapolis Colts started the season let’s call it, roughly, over the weekend. A 27-14 loss on the road in Buffalo when there isn’t 3 feet of snow covering the field is a poor result. And since then I’ve seen many a tweet about a front office conflict between head coach Chuck Pagano and General Manager Ryan Grigson. I’ve read a few of the articles, the thrust of which is largely, they need squash this, David Silver style.

Screenshot 2015-09-15 09.21.23

But no one has really gotten to, what’s obvious to me, the real root of the problem. Here. Take a look at this picture and tell me if you see it too.

pagano-irsay-grigson

For the uninitiated, that Pagano on the left, team owner, The Mad Tweeter, Jim Irsay in the middle, and Grigson on the left.

You see it yet?

No, it’s not that Grigson looks like he’s going to kill someone, that’s secondary. It’s not that Irsay looks like a tomato. That’s incidental.

Let me answer the question by asking a question.

Have you ever know anything to function properly when three people involved have goatees?

The answer is no.

One goatee is the most any management structure can support at any one time. Any more than that and chaos ensues. There’s an invisibility that comes with having a goatee. A sense of power and a belief that your position both in the organization and in any argument is unassailable. With a goatee you can’t be touched.

If more than one person has a goatee it leads to intractability and an inability to solve problems or get along.

I’ve been doing some research on famous groups and the presence of goatees. Here’s what I found.

The Beatles – George had a goatee from time to time, and there were a lot of beards and mustaches, but never more than one goatee at a time.

Beastie Boys – My man, MCA had a beard like a billie goat, but Mike D and AdRock avoided the goatee.

N.W.A. – Nope. Mostly clean shaven. Dre and Cube have had goatees at various times, but not together. Also, Snoop Dogg often has a goatee, but never at the same time as Dre.

The Dude – Walter had to sport the chin strap to avoid a double goatee situation.

Brad Pitt – Often with a goatee. You think Clooney or Norton is going to sport one too? Not a chance.

Vincent Vega and Jules Winnfield – Just Jules

Star Trek – only Evil Kirk and Evil Spock. But they were evil.

I could go on for days, but I don’t think I need to. The solution is simple. Someone needs to shave. It doesn’t matter who.

Or, someone needs to go full beard. That would would work too.

So, I’m on record. Fix this Colts. One Goatee = Superbowl.

> One Goatee = disaster.

Indiana Universe

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