June 29, 2001
Green and More Green
My computer and my phone have been acting like total retards this past week so I have not been able to communicate with the rest of the civilized world. Civilised? Civilized? Who cares.
I have come to the conclusion that I can no longer mock and ridicule today's generation of children who find themselves quite obsessed with Pokemon. I think, I was never that dumb when I was a kid. We were cultured and unswayed by society's attempts to make us mindless juvenile consumers, pleading for some ridiculous plastic figurine that was not worth the toxic paint on it's poorly constructed body.
But, alas, I am wrong. Characteristic of my haughty, holier-than-though generation mind set, I have sought even to deny my own roots. To shun those four great creatures that guided me through grade school and beyond.
I think you know their names?
Why, it is none other than Michaelangelo, Donatello, Raphael, and Leonardo, the all mighty and bodacious Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles! My brother and I went and saw all three movies, owned a few of them, had nearly every toxic-smeared action figure... I even drew pictures of them to sell to my friends for a rad twenty-five cents. Now I ask you, which is more retarded: mythicial cartoon creatures with stupid names like Squirtle and Pikachu, or six-foot, bad-ass karate turtles under the righteous guidance of the six-foot, bad-ass karate rat Splinter? I don't think that's too hard to surmise.
And hey, they had artist's names. We were cultured. So, cowabunga dudes.
On a more current note, Ryan came over to my house last night (at the request, er, insistence of my mother) to watch movies. It was actually better than going to his house. They left us alone and I just laid on him when they weren't looking.
Evil, evil laughter.
We rented Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and Lost Souls. They both sucked monkey balls, to be precise.
Lost Souls was just plain boring. You kept expecting something scary was about to happen, considering the plot line (what there was of it) and the hauntingly dark way the movie was filmed. In other words, too cheap to get proper lighting.
Crouching Tiger did not live up to standards. It was like a glorified karate movie. The whole thing was dubbed, and though done well, we laughed for about fifteen minutes over it. The fight scenes were almost as hokey as a parody of a karate movie.
And the way they flew! They kind of, like, ran in the air. They looked ridiculous. It never explained why they could fly either. I mean, Bruce Lee couldn't fly. And according to Dad, he was a karate God. These guys were small timers without the Green Destiny.
It wasn't even really green.
astera at not 10:53 p.m.