<-- Home || Fiction | Editorial | Serial | Reviews | Bio Stuff | Personal | List-O-Rama

 

"The Weekend With All The Leftover Soup and Randy's Lost DVD's"
By Schagle Barkdust

The first thing I did with my disability check was get a massage from the Korean woman down the street. I paid for two back to back sessions and I almost cried. I was so relaxed and in heaven, it was like when I was a baby cradled in my mothers' arms. Since all I was going to get I already got, I went home and called my grandnephew. My family tree is a little hard to explain, so I'll avoid it. Anyway, Randy says he's got a great show for me to watch on my new PlayStation, which is a very fancy zombie murder simulator and movie player in one. He told me he's bought me the first three seasons of a show called Lost and he's just put them in the mail for me. I told him I loved him because I do, and I waited for my box to come.
Randy and his twin brother Mikey are my only family and they think I'm the cool uncle. Maybe I showed them a Playboy or something when they were in high school. I don't know. That might have been my ex-girlfriend's kid. Mikey loves music and Randy loves movies so they like to share with me. That's the only reason I know anything that's going on. I don't have cable. I'm a little cheap, but I also think commercials make me angry. It's what the doctor told me.
I got Lost the next day and there was a note inside. "I remember you said you loved Hawaii no matter what anybody said. This entire show takes place in the South Pacific. Have fun."
I got started immediately and I watched everything in two days. Maybe two and a half. My windows were shut. I ate Oreo's and my leftover potato soup. I drank orange soda because the doctor made me swear off beer, too. I think that's why Randy keeps sending me stuff.
Why that kid would think I would want to watch a plane crash over and over, even in a Hawaiian backdrop, is beyond me. It scared the crap out of me. But I kept with it. Mostly because there were about a half dozen gorgeous girls to watch. Sorry, being honest. But this island wasn't like that stuff on Gilligan's Island or even Treasure Island. This was like Star Trek and a monster movie in Maui. The island was the central character and all these twisted, (and lucky to be alive) messed up passengers were stuck there. Brilliant! Its like the classic black and white horror movie , when you hear the door lock snap closed. Now make that as loud as a jet engine exploding.
Jack the doctor is the hero and he's a pain in the ass. All bosses and leaders are. Sawyer is a con man; something I thought only happened in the movies. There's a bunch of nondescript background people, too. I like Sayid, the ex-Iraqi Republican Guard. That dude had bad-ass written all over him. If there was justice, he would have been the leader. But hey, that's politics on the beach, I guess.
While I took a break on the john, realizing that cookies and soup don't go together, I let the show sink in. The best part of this sci-fi drama deal is that the timeline shifts so quickly and the settings are altered so abruptly, you are always on your toes. These guys know how to unfurl a mystery. There were some moments I yelled at the screen. "I don't give a rat's ass about the Koreans!" (Hoping, of course, the woman down the street didn't hear me.) But in a few minutes the events tied in. I just like the uncertainty. Its okay to keep me guessing as long as you give me the answers occasionally.
With everyone dying or foretold to die or possibly not dead at all, he show is a little cavalier with the whole death thing. I guess you have to do that these days. Randy gave me a copy of Grand Theft Auto for my birthday so I'd have something to play on my PlayStation. It sucked. It was mean. I like it better when heroes do good things. Maybe that will be the central theme in Lost. Sounds pretty close to me. You can have a horrible life and be a horrible a-hole, but there is always time for redemption. Right up until there is no time.


S.B.
Oregon, 2008

---------------------------

"Most Handguns Have a Hell of a Recoil. A Movie Review."
By Schagle Barkdust

I used to be a gun nut. I owned exactly one gun in my life, an old-fashioned .38, like the cops in the movies I used to watch. That should tell you something right there. I didn't collect as much as I admired from afar. The thundering blast and the solid, permanent look of the weapons was so primal and appealing. I went to gun shows with my old roommate and saw hundreds of people like me, enchanted by the chrome and bronze and the ability to end another person's life with the slight movement of a finger. It was American, it was goddamned cool.

I was in the Army, something I don't talk about, and my father was a game hunter. It was normal to talk about guns and even more commonplace to regard them as necessary. One day, In 1984 or so, I watched the evening news. I don't remember the story, but a woman was found dead in her car. It was a big deal for a week and then I don't think they ever solved the case. For some reason, on that day, I think it was in June, the story sickened me. The wires crossed and the wind was right and the temperature warmed to just the right degree and I just hated guns. I never went to another show; I pawned my gun and threw my bullets away. No gun magazines, NRA talk radio…nothing. I was done forever.

But it's still in my blood. That's why I am still a sucker for action movies.

I had three movies in my Netflix queue that promised explosions and vengeance and wild west-style justice. But I was surprised. Action movies aren’t the same anymore. They're becoming more like me.

The first was silly beyond words. It was a tumbling turd of a sequel-cash grab, Live Free or Die Hard. It was the fourth installment of the the most kick-ass action film ever, but as I could tell within twenty minutes the memories of those days are long gone. Bruce Willis and that kid who plays the "Mac" on the computer commercials run around the east coast and instead of a regular guy saving the day, John McClane flips trains and drives down elevator shaft and surfs on the wings of fighter jets. The rapport was alright and a little revealing. The sidekick is a hack-nerd computer dork who is constantly afraid and incognizant of how the hero "doe the hero thing". Willis acts a little like me, when faced with the limp cowardly questions from the younger generation. You guys make to big of a deal out of it. Heroes are the guys that know how to change a tire when the time comes.

The second was a lot funnier and ten times more violent. Aptly named Shoot 'Em Up, this movie did not give a damn about plot or characterization, but somehow managed to squeeze it in. Sorry, I suck with names, but the guy from Sin City, and the Sideways guy was it. Not the guy from "Wings". Paul something.

Anyway. It turned out to be hilarious in its execution, and kind of interesting how they turned 1,000 onscreen shootings into an anti-gun movie. But they did. The reluctant hero dragged back into conflict is as old as the chase scene. Violence in the name of anti-violence. Again, so very Americano. But the actors took the pamphlet of a script and had fun with it. I thought it was stupid. But good.

I should have watched The Brave One with Jodie Foster first. Its was a realistic film about how devastating guns and violence can be to victims. It can be a wave that spreads. There is a terrible price paid by everyone after a sudden and senseless death. The piles of nondescript henchmen from the first two movies now had wives and kids and moms and friends? Damn! But they were killed in such a cool way!

I don't know who "the brave one" was supposed to be, because Foster just starts a Charles Bronson impression about forty-five minutes in. It was from a woman's perspective and I love watching her for just that reason. (Hey, I don't just watch the bang-bang movies.) The movie was sad and small and every murder was unsatisfying. Like they should be. I guess I'm glad I watched it last after all. I remember that story again, back in 1984. I drank heroically back then. After I heard the news I turned off the TV and I wondered how close I was to a deadly weapon. About seventeen steps. I wept like a baby. It was gone the next day.

Hey, I hear the next "Batman" is gonna be good.

S.B.

 

<-- Home || Fiction | Editorial | Serial | Reviews | Bio Stuff | Personal | List-O-Rama