So, based on one of last week's Daily Fluffs (Friday, April 17th), there have been some scurrilous rumours afoot that I hate Footloose. Not true at all. I was merely pointing out some of the more implausible moments in a film chock-full of implausability. That doesn't mean it's not enjoyable. (In fact, Gator calls Footloose, "Roadhouse for chicks," which is pretty damned accurate when it comes down to it. Kevin Bacon is the outsider in the Patrick Swayze role, instead of the small town being under the control of a rich jerk, it's under the thumb of a religious jerk--played a bit too sympathetically by John Lithgow--and instead of a sexy doctor as a love interest, we get a sexy, if nutso, preacher's daughter. Either way, both movies hit exactly the same guilty pleasure sweet spot.)
So, to make things perfectly clear, I do like Footloose in all it's goofy cheesiness. Heck, I didn't even pick on the goofiest scene of all--where Kevin Bacon drives away from his uncle's house late at night, furious at all the injustice he's experienced, then drives to an abandoned factory, and . . . dances. All around the factory. And with great passion and abandon too. I always wonder what music he's dancing to in this scene. Sure, he has a tape player in his car, but it's pretty clear that he hasn't exactly tricked out his sound system. And there's no way that the speakers on a classic Beetle are going to blast suffificient sound to carry through an entire grain warehouse. So, realistically, when he's dancing around the rafters and swinging off of horizontal bars and such, he's doing so in relative silence.
Good morning. Today, in addition to the Daily Fluff, we have an update to our Issues with Heroes. And if you're catching up, don't forget about the latest Second Opinion.
Fire Hazard
1. A person who is in complete and utter denial of their gayness, especially when all of their behaviors are flaming.
Yesterday I caught Gary lipsynching and dancing to Britney, and he asked me to TIVo Desperate Housewives. I tried to point out that those two things as well as his extensive collection of Zac Effron memorabilia might make him gay, but he still denies it. What a fire hazard!
The other day, I saw Knowing, the new Nicolas Cage sci-fi thriller thing about the big list of numbers that can predict tragedies and natural disasters. For some reason, it's being sold as if it were a new and orginal idea, when really it's just a mish-mash of recycled ideas. Granted, I'm not much of a sci-fi fan in general, and there were a few massive holes that really bugged me. (And in case you're not good with nuance, this means that there are spoilers coming):
--Probably my biggest gripe with these kinds of movies in general is how stingy supernatural beings are with their information. So you're a ghost/alien/whatever with detailed information about the location and death toll of dozens of disasters over the next 50 years. You've managed to travel across the galaxy and communicate telepathically with people to warn them. And yet, the only way you will do so is to give them a random number puzzle to work out. You've conquered telepathic communication and intersteller travel, and yet you can't bring yourself to just come out and say, "Hey, the world's going to end on this day in this way." Fail, alien life forms. Massive fail.
--And while we're at it, why communicate this information to weird children? Why not try to talk to world leaders instead? You have the technology to evacuate people and a 50 year head start, and you waste the time passing your messages on through socially maladjusted kids.
--And if you do have the ability to alter your appearance so that you look human, why not choose a friendly maternal woman to deliver your message? Why go with the Swedish eurotrash look? That virtually guarantees that people will be creeped out. Or at least avoid you because they don't want to discuss Kraftwerk.
--Apparently, aliens have no respect for parental rights. Otherwise they wouldn't keep separating young children from their parents and sending them off alone on critical missions. If the little boy in this movie turns into a sith lord and terrorizes the galaxy, I hope the aliens realize that it's their fault.
--I'm not totally happy that the future of the human species is left to two little kids dumped on another planet. One of whom has a hearing problem. Is this really the best they could do? Couldn't they at least have repopulated us with a genetic combination of Brad Pitt and Cindy Crawford?
--Apparently, only children with trendy names are worthy of saving. So little Caleb and Abby get to live, but little Bob and Tara are SOL.
Hello. This morning, in addition to the Daily Fluff, you'll find that Second Opinion is back from a brief hiatus, with this week's entry being a response to the apparent crisis of a friend who sends porn e-mail forwards.
Hobosexual
1.The opposite of metrosexual. A man who goes out of his way to look like a hobo ( ie Johnny Depp, Colin Farell, that guy from The Hills). This is generally a conscious choice. There are few men who are naturally hobosexual, but they can most frequently be found in their natural habitat--in front of the TV in the common room of a frat house, drinking beer and playing their 6th consecutive hour of Call of Duty.
I hope the starlet dating hobosexuals trend has run its course. I will tear my hair out if I see another photo of Natalie Portman and Devandre Barnhart.
John is a genuine hobosexual. When he was born, he came out with stubble and a dirty Guinness t-shirt.
So last night, I got to see I Love You Man. It was a lot of fun, and I do recommend it if you've liked this group of actors and the comedies they've been churning out lately.
The thing I noticed about this movie that I found culturally noteworthy, however, was the girlfriend. She was probably closer to a real world girlfriend than any girl I've ever seen in a romantic comedy. (Yes, you can argue that this is more of regular comedy or buddy comedy than a romantic comedy. After all, it's not about the protagonist's pursuit of the girl, but about his pursuit of a best guy friend. And it's true that the movie lightly mocks the conventions of the genre by dealing with the friend relationship in the way that romantic comedies treat the romantic relationship. On the other hand, it does end with a wedding.)
My problem with movie girlfriends is that they are so often completely ridicuous. (And when I say "movie girlfriends," I'm referring to movies where the guy is the main character so that we're generally seeing the action from his perspective.) Movie girlfriends tend to be high maintenance and extremely dim so that they demand way too much from their guys, get irrationally angry over relatively insignificant things, and refuse to have the 2 minute conversation that could completely clear up the misunderstanding that fuels the entire plot. Movie girlfriends break up with their guys because they don't want to hear the wacky and true explanation of why he came home late, smelling of perfume, and drenched in Kool-Aid. Movie girlfriends (and wives too for that matte) inevitably complain that their superhero boyfriend/husband spends too much time saving other people's lives and not enough time listening to updates on their day.
I hate movie girlfriends.
Women are not that irrational, difficult, and stupid. Well, not all of them anyway. If I were married to a superhero, I would cut him a break for missing dinner. When I suspect something has gone wrong, I'm going to ask him about it instead of taking it as a sign that he's not serious about us and breaking up with him in a melodramatic way that forces him to serenade me at my workplace to get me back. I don't want to be serenaded. No, not even with a boom box playing Peter Gabriel. Especially not with a boom box playing Peter Gabriel.
My apologies. I'm out of town and low on internet and computer access. So, while there is a new Daily Fluff today, I'm afraid that all we have that's new. We will be back on Monday with more. And in the meantime, don't forget to catch up on our latest Issues with Heroes, Issues with American Idol, and Why You Should Avoid the Jack Reacher Books. And there's also the Daily Fluff Archive.
In honor of the March 26th Daily Fluff that encouraged the frequent use of the word "niblet," I am introducing a Word of the Day feature to Uberfluff. Though I should definitely add this disclaimer: most of these are not orginal. In fact if I weren't lazy and did a full search on Google (i.e. looking past the 1st page) or Urban Dictionary, I'm fairly certain the words will show up. However, I will guarantee that the sentences are original, as full plagiarism would take way more effort. (See aforementioned disinclination to do a full Google search.) I am merely interested in making more people sound like me. Though if I can lay claim to starting a few word usage trends, I will forever have a source of annoying conversation for strangers at bars. Anyway, here's today's word:
Zack Morris phone
1. An outdated cell phone. Similar to the enormous and (at the time) way-before-its-time cell phone that the popular Saved By the Bell hunk caried around. May also be used to describe using a landline to call people.
I wish Dan would trade in his Zack Morris phone, he doesn't even have texting capabilties.
Good morning. Today, in addition to the Daily Fluff, we have another update to our Issues with American Idol. Enjoy!
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