The Son of Aragog

I had a 1am adventure with a spider that I've deemed blog-worthy.

To put it shortly, I had to kill it with a baseball bat.


Reason #1  It was huge.


Reason #2  I didn't want anything less than three feet between me and it.  Him.  The son of Aragog.

I had just returned from a late-night shift at work and decided to stay up a few more minutes in order to read my scriptures.  I was one verse along when something big and dark bungee jumping from the ceiling caught my eye.  My heart lurched in a familiar, unpleasant way when I beheld one of the biggest arachnids I've ever seen.

He was clamoring around my bedroom door, probably preparing to make a web.  His legs were so large I could hear them pattering against the wooden frame.

I immediately went for my first weapon of choice, a flip-flop.  But I quickly realized that whether I wore it on my foot or my hand would require me to be within millimeters of the spider and something about the way he was moving suggested that wouldn't end well.

I needed distance.

My first choice would've been bug spray but this would've required me to leave the room and Odin knows if the spider would've still been there when I returned.  No, I had to keep my eye on this one.  If he got away there was a 0% chance of sleep for me.

So, keeping one eye on Aragog Jr, I reached for the aluminum bat I keep by my bed and readied myself for battle.

As I approached him he stopped his scampering abruptly and we eyed each other.

We moved at the same time.  I made a whack at him but he darted up the wall with lightening speed.  I managed to knock him down but as soon as he hit the carpet he started running toward me.

It continued like this for several minutes; I would make a swing then he would rush me.  I had never dealt with such an aggressive spider before so I had to change my usual tactic of herding them out into the open to get a clear shot.  Now I had to let him chase me far enough away from a wall so I could get a clear shot.  But whenever I took a shot he would scuttle back to the corner where the wall and floor met.  And when I got close enough to try and encourage him out of the corner he would rush me again and force me away, whimpering like Ron Weasley.

Our battle had moved into the living room, and I eventually had to fake him out.  I disappeared around the corner long enough for him to wander out into the open.  Once he had I snuck back to the entry way and struck a Gandalf pose with my bat poised vertically over his hairy head.

Resisting the urge to bellow, "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"  I slammed the bat down and Aragog Jr splattered everywhere.

I gave him a second whack for good measure, let loose a giddy laugh, then basked in my victory.


Moral of the story, children?  Read your scriptures and keep a bat by your bed.

Me Me Me Meeeeeeeee

My lovely friend Shannon recently nominated me for the Liebster award, which requires that I bombard you with useless facts about myself.  You lucky readers, you.

For those of you who care enough to read this post, here are the rules:

1. Each person awarded must post 11 facts about themselves.
2. Answer the 11 questions the nominator has set for them.
3. Choose five bloggers to nominate.  (If I've tagged you in this blog, it means you're one of 'em.  If you're wondering why you weren't tagged, it's probably because I don't know you have a blog.)
4. Create 11 more questions for the bloggers they will nominate.
5. Let the lucky bloggers know.

Alrighty, 11 (pointless yet revealing) facts about myself...

#1  The first movie I ever saw in a theater was Disney's Beauty and the Beast with my mom in 1991.

#2  Speaking of which, my greatest wish is for a movie theater to be built wherein only the best of theater-goer behavior is allowed.  No kids, no crunchy/loud candy, no cell phones, no getting up and leaving/coming back, and absolutely no talking.

If not, I could settle for a semi-annual public flogging of a bad theater-goer to promote good theater behavior nationwide.

#3  I've never been snowboarding, skiing, surfing, horseback riding, skydiving or bungee jumping despite having grown up near the Southern Californian coast as well as the high desert.

But I do enjoy 4 wheeling.  And shooting things.
 
#4  I love the cold and despise the heat.  If it's cold you can bundle up.  If it's hot, however, there's only so much you can strip off until things get weird.  Besides, the heat inspires sluggish thinking and reactions, whereas the cold sharpens and quickens.

And all of this is ironic since I'm a Mexican from Southern California.

#5  I'm a huge nerd.  But did you know I'm also a comic book collector?  Here, be impressed:

Money well wasted.

#6  The majority of my iTunes library consists of movie soundtracks.  This is largely due to the fact that they helped me study when I was a student at BYU, and even now when I need to focus on something it helps to let a soundtrack run in the background while I mull things over.

I could afford it, I would hire Michael Giacchino to compose my life.  He could just follow me around with an orchestra, no big deal.

#7  I love driving manual, I even prefer it over automatic.  Each of my children will learn to, whether they like it or not.

#8  I studied Jeet Kune Do, Kempo Karate, and Wing Chun under Jerry Meyers, who was taught and trained by Bruce Lee.

And have since forgotten most of it.

#9  I think the huge deal people make over birthdays is dumb.  It's the anniversary of the day our mothers went through horrendously unspeakable pain and we were ejected from the womb, why do we celebrate it?

Acknowledge it?  Sure.  But freak out, bake a cake, take the day off work, have people sing to you and give you gifts?  Nay nay.

#10  I love the internet because it produces hilarious crap like this:

#10.5  If I were in The Avengers I'm pretty sure this is how I would react.

#11  If I were an animal I would probably be a panther.  Bagheera is one of my favorite classic Disney characters, I've always related to him.  The first thing I would do upon finding an abandoned baby is deliver it to a pack of wolves.

Then shove it so it starts crying and the wolves notice it.

And now for Shannon's questions...

#1 How do you wake up in the morning?  ie what wakes you up?
"Non Regrette Rien" has been my alarm ever since Inception hit theaters.  I don't think I even need to explain why this is both clever and cool of me.

#2 If you could drive any car without worrying about gas or street regulations or maintenance, what would it be?

The Tumbler, you silly goose.

#3 If you had to pick one feature on your face to be completely hideous, which would it be? (I'm thinking snaggle teeth and warty noses, don't disappoint me, guys)
A uni-brow would suit me well.

#4 Assuming you rule the universe, what would be the first thing you would tell people to stop doing?
Tweeting.

#5  What is one inside joke you have with a sibling and how did it happen?
My sister likes to tease me about how she convinced me I was found in a trash can by our parents as an infant.

#6  Tell me a story about a time you ended up in the ER.  Please.
Never have.  I'm invincible.

#7  What are your two guilty pleasures?  Anything.
Titanic and Red Vines.

 #8  Why did you choose the post-high school career/education/family/whatever path that you did?
Kind of a hard question, since I haven't chosen yet.  But the reason I chose to study Anthropology/Archaeology at BYU was because I've always had a fascination with ancient Egypt.  Even now I'm re-reading the textbook from my Egyptian archaeology course.

Unfortunately, a career in ancient Egyptian archaeology or Egyptology is both impractical and unsafe nowadays.

(Because, you know, of mummies and stuff...)

#9  What is the most adventurous thing you've ever done?
Drove with my dad in the passenger seat. 

#10  What is one thing about yourself or your accomplishments that you are very proud of?
I'm proud that I went to BYU and earned a Bachelor's.  Now that I've moved to Brea/Fullerton I'm surrounded by people who are much older than me and haven't even started school, so it's cast a whole new light on my experience in Provo and the knowledge I gained there.  Basically, I'm very grateful I had the opportunity and ambition to go to BYU.

#11  What is your favorite children's book?
Harry Potter, of course.  But if you're talking picture-book I'd have to say In the Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak.

And now for my nominations...
Brianne!
Katie!
Shelene!
Sophie!
Steph!
Clare!

Here are your questions:

#1  How many bones have you broken?
#2  If you could learn any fictional language, what would it be?
#3  What is your dream job?
#4  Your thoughts on Snooki?
#5  Your favorite holiday and why?
#6  Have you ever convinced your sibling they were found in a trash can and adopted?
#7  What is your earliest memory?  How old were you?
#8  Name something you're afraid of.
#9  What's your favorite hobby?
#10  If you were trapped on an island and could choose one celebrity to be there, who would you choose?
#11  If you had to choose to watch only one comedy for the rest of your life, which would you choose?

No, I don't expect any of you to actually do this.  It's time consuming and kinda pointless, there isn't an actual award involved.  But it's fun and doesn't need to be completed any time soon.

Frankenweenie, or the Importance of Jumper Cables

Continuing with the Halloween spirit of things, I now present an extremely brief review of Tim Burton's latest animated feature, Frankenweenie.

This was originally intended to be a full-length review but then I realized that this film simply wasn't worth it.  So, without further ado, here are my complaints:

#1  Several characters looked recycled from Burton's previous animated features.

Mrs. Frankenstein (Frankenweenie) & Victoria (Corpse Bride) :

 
Lord Everglott (Corpse Bride) & Mr. Burgemeister (Frankenweenie) :

And last but not least, Victor (Frankenweenie) and Victor (Corpse Bride).  That's right.  They even have the same name :

I don't know if Tim Burton's creativity reserves are well and truly dry or if he's paying homage to some of his own (forgettable) characters, but either way I'm unimpressed.

#2  The moral of the story is awful:  'If you've lost your pet screw death and find a way to bring them back regardless of the consequences.'

No one who is mourning the loss of a pet should see this film because it doesn't give the message they need to hear, which is that death is a natural part of life no matter when it may choose to take us or a loved one and we need to be able to accept it when it does.  I realize that this would require Sparky to be dead by the end of the film but it would have meant a lot more than the crappy happily-ever-after-with-the-rotting-corpse-of-a-dog ending we got instead.
Even when poor Sparky realized he was dead and ran away to the cemetery where he belonged Victor didn't say anything like, "I'm sorry boy, it was selfish but I missed you too much." 

He just coaxed Sparky out from behind the headstone and the plot continued to it's sloppy conclusion.  Speaking of which...

#3  The ending was so awful it's like Burton took a vacation and left the helm unmanned.  When the credits started to roll I actually blinked and said, "What the heck?"

And now for praises:

#1  The black and white palette may have left children in the audience squirming for something else to look at but I thought it was beautifully done.  In addition, the animation was fantastic.  I actually got a little choked up from Victor's expression when Sparky died, hats off to the animators.

#2  The few parts that were funny were pretty dang funny.  For instance:

All in all this is a cute movie that's worth seeing once, but try and see it the cheapest way possible because it isn't worth a full admission price or the cost of a DVD.

I Was Rooting For You, Mate.

(A brief note: Try as I may, Blogger won't let me change my background image.  So until I figure it out, Holmes and Watson are here to stay.  Now, on with the nonsense!)

I like villains.



There.

I said it.



The rest of this post will explain why.

There must be opposition in all things, and every good story needs a good villain.  Whether that villain is embodied as an actual personage is conditional.  For instance, the villain of a zombie apocalypse flick isn't the zombies, rather, it's the backstabbing that occurs when desperate people are trying to survive.  The villains I'll be discussing are actual people; singular individuals who have for some reason or another gone off the deep end and become antagonists.

I have long-since realized that I tend to root for the bad guy, but I never really asked myself why.  First of all, they're often more complex and unpredictable than the hero, and therefore more fascinating.  Second of all, they're often victims of cruel fate and have turned down the only paths they believe are available to them.  Third of all, they often believe they're doing what's right and that the protagonists are the actual evil-doers.  Any story can be viewed from multiple perspectives.

I don't sympathize with them all, however.  In fact, a villain must fit a particular formula in order to earn my fanhood.   This formula was only recently discovered as I pondered the mysteries of the universe in the break room at work last Tuesday.

It is as follows:

1. The villain in question has a profoundly legitimate reason for going 'off the deep end'.
2. The villain in question exudes an aura of coolness/badassery/usefulness that makes you want to stick with them in a tight situation.  Like a zombie apocalypse.
3. The villain in question at some point demonstrates a level of compassion/mercy/humanity that may or may not lead to redemption. This can be substituted by a display of guilt, albeit brief.

To further educate you, I've rounded up a list of my favorite villains to explain how they fit the Kimmy Formula.

First up, Captain Barbossa!

#1  It's true, he's incredibly selfish and a little bonkers. Then again, if I had spent a decade suffering a horrific curse, finally broken it, only to be killed mere seconds later, brought back to life, forced to help the man who had killed me in the first place, lead an attack in the battle of the century, survive and sail away on the ship that had been my home for over a decade, only to have some douche come along and destroy it and my crew and my leg, thus handicapping me for life physically and mentally, yeah, I would go a little bonkers too.

 I shudder to think what they'll put him through in Pirates 5.

#2  This is his strongest suit, especially considering that he himself was something akin to a zombie at one point. Up until he looses his leg, Barbossa is the most skilled swordsman in the whole series aside from Will, which is saying a lot. (And that's not just my opinion, the writers said so!) Plus, he's got a natural knack for leadership in addition to being very cunning, clever, and witty.  I think he produces some of the funniest moments in the films.

#3  Regardless of his motivations, the fact that Barbossa risked his newly-restored life to save Jack from Davy Jones' Locker is enough to qualify for this part of the formula.  Barbossa becomes one of the heroes in the Pirates of the Caribbean sequels, or rather, sides with the heroes against a common enemy.  This provides the opportunity for audiences to see Barbossa in a whole new light, thus redeeming his character in our eyes as well as the heroes'.  One instance in particular during a (ridiculous) scene wherein Barbossa marries Will and Elizabeth is a good example of this.

Next up, Loki!

#1  Life gives us apples and life gives us lemons.  Or, in Loki's case, life hurls a pineapple in your freaking face.  Again and again.  And again.
Regardless whether I'm discussing the mythological or Marvel comics Loki, it's not hard to feel sorry for the guy.  I'll let Tom Hiddleston explain:
 "...If you look at the villains of human history, quite often they’re motivated by emotional damage. Loki was somebody who was brought up as a prince in the royal family with the expectation that one day he would be a king. Throughout the course of the film he learns that the entire narrative of his life is a lie, he was actually the illegitimate son of a monster, left out in the cold, adopted and then cheated. So he’s essentially this damaged soul, whose heartbreak hardens into a menace and a megalomania, a vanity, an arrogance and a pride, which I hope is why you can’t entirely hate him, because underneath all that villainy is a damaged soul...I think he just wants a place to call home.  He wants to belong."

Well said, Tom.
And let me just add that it may not be obvious in the movie, but Odin favors Thor over Loki so blatantly in the comics it's no wonder Loki didn't snap sooner.  I'll not delve into the mythological slights that Loki suffers because of their large quantity, but let me assure you they're much worse.

#2  Aside from the Hulk, Loki is the only one who can give Thor a run for his money.  And that's saying a lot.  He may not be as strong as Thor, but he still packs a wallop.  In addition, he is a master of magic.  You name it, Loki can probably do it.  And who doesn't love that helmet?

#3  There's a reason Coulson tells Loki he lacks conviction.  Loki is a naughty boy but (very) deep down there is good in him.  There's a multitude of examples displaying this in the comics but the one that stands out most comes from the Siege series wherein Loki turns the tide of a battle in the Avenger's favor by giving his life to empower them.  If that isn't redemption I don't know what is.  Granted, Loki was responsible for the Earth's peril in the first place, but the fact that Loki realized his mistake and felt guilty enough to sacrifice himself says a lot about his character.  Loki is currently a child in the comics, having been recently resurrected by Thor.

He's still a little trickster but he adores Thor and does everything he can to avoid becoming his past self.  He's a trickster-hero.

And lastly, Inspector Javert!

#1 To quote the bottomless well of wisdom that is my father, "Javert was an asshole."  But if I was born and raised in a jail with no parents, given very few options in life, thrown my heart and soul into my work, chased a man for nearly two decades, finally caught him then realized to do so would be unethical thus proving my entire life's work as low as I had considered those I brought to justice, I would toss myself off a bridge too. Javert is so true to himself he literally can't change in order to continue living. So, to solve the problem, he removes himself from the equation. Basically, he suffers a fatal epiphany.

 #2 Everyone who has seen the musical adaptation of Les Miserables knows the Confrontation scene wherein Javert's butt is whupped by Valjean.  But those of us who have read the novel know differently.  There is never an actual physical confrontation between Valjean and Javert in the novel.   And if there were, I have no doubt that novel-Javert could take on novel-Valjean.  Valjean may possess freakish strength but Javert is likened unto a wolf and described as an imposing beast of a man.

In addition to all of this, Javert possesses a dry sense of humor that serves as a comic relief in the novel, just as the Thenardiers do in the musical.  Hands down, some of the best moments in the novel belong to Javert.

#3  Javert may be a terminatoresque douche but he's ultimately a good man.  Some actors have portrayed him as straight-up evil (i.e. Geoffrey Rush), and while they make a good villain it isn't true to Javert's character.  The defining moment of Javert's redemption comes in the latter-part of the novel where he helps Valjean transport the mortally-wounded Marius safely home from the barricade.  Afterward, he takes Valjean home to Cosette then simply walks away.  Granting Valjean's freedom costs him his own life but he does it because it's the right thing to do.

(Couldn't find a pic of Javert helping Valjean, so here's my buddy Varela about to hop the bridge.)

I'd also like to give a shout out to Norman Bates, Darth Vader, Benjamin Linus, and the Phantom of the Opera, who all qualify but weren't analyzed in order to avoid taxing your patience.  (Well, Vader is a wee bit unqualified.  He barely meets #1 due to poor writing/acting.)

And for contrast, I've assembled some unsympathetic villains:

Sauron (Lord of the Rings)--  He's a giant eyeball on top of a tower without a personality and wants to kill everyone in Middle Earth for the heck of it.

Voldemort (Harry Potter)--  Evil incarnate.  He has no redeeming qualities, no goodness or mercy.  I've never felt a smidgen of pity for this guy.  He may have been an orphan but so was Aladdin.

Red Skull (Captain America)--  I like to pretend it's not Hugo Weaving, but his evil twin bent on ruining Hugo's career and dignity. 

Obediah Stane (Iron Man)-- While it's hard to dislike Jeff Bridges, this power-hungry douche tried to kill his best friend's son. Three times.

Shaw (X Men: First Class)-- Basically possesses the same crippling ethnocentric thinking as Magneto, but without the redeeming quality of being cool (and beautiful).

Nero (Star Trek 2009) While it's sad his home planet was destroyed by a NATURAL supernova, that's no excuse to go on an elaborate murderous campaign and commit genocide against a race that had absolutely nothing to do with the NATURAL supernova.

And let me just add that I recognize that not all villains are given a backstory to help the audience understand their motivations, but that's not my fault.  That's just poor storytelling.

So, what do you think? Do you have a favorite villain that you'd like me to analyze in order to determine their worthiness for sympathy?  Do you agree with my theory?  Whether or not you do, leave a comment!

Of Dodgers and Target

I just had an experience at Target I've deemed worthy of blogging about.

I only had 3 things to buy; orange juice, packing tape, and super glue.  (Not to use together, mind you.)

I was standing in the shortest of the extremely long lines when a kindly employee offered, "I can check you out here, ma'am."  And opened a register just for me.  I had thanked her and plopped my groceries on the conveyer belt when a voice cut in, "Hey, could you check me out first?" 
A harried-looking woman in a slutty Dodgers shirt was fixing me with a look of contempt.  "I was here first,"  she continued, "My stuff is already on this checkout belt, I was here first!  You're being rude."  The conveyer belt she spoke of was completely loaded with back to school supplies.  The employee manning said register was still checking out the customer before her.  "I'm in a huge hurry,"  The Dodger continued, "I have kids in the car, and I was already here, and blah blah blah me me me meeeeee…"

Now, let's take a little trip inside my noggin.  (Don't be afraid.)

The Disney employee in me is well experienced in listening to people vent about stupid things and in turn, soothing them, 'Oh, I'm sorry ma'am, tell me all about it and I'll see if I can help...'
But the Haskins/Perez in me is well experienced in throwing crap right back.  I wanted to snap, 'And who are you to assume I'm not in a hurry too?  Never assume someone else is having a better day than you, lady.'

As a result of these two conflicting impulses, my brain, to my shame, froze like a PC and I found myself staring blankly at her with my mouth slightly agape.

"I only have three things."  I managed to say.

"That doesn't matter, I was here before you!  This is ridiculous!  I want to speak with a manager!"

I looked to the kindly employee behind my register and asked, "Well, what do you wanna do?"
In response, she grabbed my orange juice and scanned it.  Boop.

Cool.

Checking out took a grand total of 20 seconds, during which I asked the employee how her day was going.  "Good, up 'til now."  She replied.  The Dodgers fan was still making a fuss when I left.

Moral of the story kids--don't be selfish.  If you do, you wind up looking like a douche and not getting what you want.  Part of the reason I was so floored is because I couldn't believe how self-centered she was being.  How did she know I wasn't in a hurry too?  Or that I hadn't had my car stolen, lost my dog, broken up with a boyfriend, or had my bank account hacked?  Never assume someone else is having a better day than you.

Thank goodness I was having a good day or I  would be blogging from Target prison where that creepy white dog is the guard.

Just imagine this staring at you through the cell bars.

Of Boxers and Smurfs

I just had a harrowing albeit hilarious experience with a dog. I shared it with my family, and Brianne encouraged me to blog about it.  Before I continue, lemme just say that the story is probably a lot funnier when I tell it in person and it's your loss for not living with me.  I'm hilarious.

This past Thursday my sensible brother Jeffrey brought home a stray female Boxer.  Before you get visions of a muscle-necked female wearing gloves with a tumbleweed in her hair, let me assure you the aforementioned Boxer was indeed a canine.  She had followed him home from his daily run.

We've been trying to find her owner, but in the meantime she's been gracing our backyard along with Nala.  We have various names for her.  Jeffrey got creative and dubbed her 'Brownie'.  My mom and I have taken to calling her 'Ruby'.  Brianne calls her 'Baxter'.

My family was planning on spending Saturday evening in Victorville, so I declined their invitation in order to get some quality Kimmy Time, even if it would only be for 2 hours.  I love my family, and I love spending time with them, but life in Idaho and Utah made me accustomed to solitude and I've been aching for it ever since I graduated and moved home.

Instead, I got some quality Kimmy 'n Brownie Time.

I ordered a nacho dinner from Mexico Lindo here in Phelan and left to pick it up just a few minutes after my family had left for Victorville.  I got in Tom and started the engine then turned on the radio and thought to myself, "I'm so glad I bought this radio.  Thank you, me."

And that's when I saw a flash of brown in my rear view mirror.

Brownie had hopped the fence.

Hoping she would see I was leaving and stay in the yard, I put Tom into gear and took off.

She started chasing me.

"Damn it!"  I yelled.

I swerved back into the yard and parked Tom.

"C'mon, Brownie!  Back into the yard, c'mon!"  I tried to coerce her into rejoining Nala through the gate in our fence.  She wouldn't come.  It took forever to get her through, and when I finally did, I shut the gate behind me and told her, "Stay put, I'll be right back."

I got back into Tom and had just started to take off when I saw the freaking brown blur in my rear view mirror again.

"Damn it!"  I yelled.

 I got out of Tom again, this time with the idea of putting her in the garage.

"C'mon, Ruby, let's go in the house now.  That's what you want, right?  C'mon, let's go."

She followed me without hesitation all the way into the house and up to the garage door.  Then she wouldn't budge.

"C'mon, Ruby!  Let's go, Brownie, I don't have all day, c'mon!"

She would sniff at the garage door opening then turn and explore the laundry room a bit, before returning to the door and faking me out by taking a step in then turning and sniffing at the nearby food shelf.

"Ugh!  C'mon, Brownie it's just the garage!"

I knew she didn't want to come in because that's exactly what I wanted her to do.  And that just pissed me off even more.

Before I continue, let me assure you it's pointless trying to pull her anywhere by the collar.  It's way too big for her and she struggles if you manage to get your hand around it.

It took forever to get her in the stupid garage.  In the end, I had to get some cheese from the fridge to bait her in.

"Want some cheese?  Here's some cheese, you mindless beast, you!  Go get the cheese!"  I tossed it in the garage and the idiot followed.

"Hahaaa!"  I crowed, slamming the door behind her.  "Dumbass!"

Fifteen minutes late, I left for Mexico Lindo to get my dinner.  Upon my triumphant return, I immediately let Brownie out of the garage.

"See what happens when you hop the fence, dork?  C'mon, outside now."

She wouldn't go outside.

I opened the backdoor wide and stood outside with Nala, coaxing Brownie, "C'mon, girl!  Come outside with us!  C'mon!"

Nope.

She completely ignored me and proceeded to wander about the house.

Glad I had left the cheese out of the fridge, I cut two slices and dangled one in front of her until the idiot followed it outside.  I tossed Nala the other slice then quickly shut the door.

Nala and I.  We were both a lot skinnier then.

I turned to my dinner eagerly and turned on the TV.  Avatar was on.  "Ah, I love this movie."  As I dug into my disappointing nachos I noticed the neighbor's dogs were going nuts yipping and yapping.  I looked out the kitchen window and saw Nala and Brownie were driving them crazy by running along the back fence.  Whatever.  I turned back to my nachos and finished them just before the part where the huge tree falls and crushes all the smurfs.  My favorite part.

The movie went to commercial break and I decided to feed the dogs before the best part came on.  I called in Nala and she obediently padded into the garage without complaint and started eating.  Bless her.  I took up Brownie's bowl and went outside.

No Brownie.

"Brownie!  Here, girl!  Ruby!  Whatever your name is!"

I called, I beckoned, I whistled.  Nothing.

The stupid dog had hopped the fence again.  But this time I had no idea where she was.

I wandered through the back yard and used the Force until I was lead to the rear of the yard.  Sure enough, Brownie trotted into view with a casual look that said, "Oh hey, how's it goin'?"

The idiot was on the other side of the fence.  Thankfully, the little yippy yappy dogs were safe on the other side of a second higher fence. 

"Get back over here, c'mon!"  I waved my arms to encourage her to jump.  She had hopped it, so she could jump back over again, right?

Nope.

The idiot could only get her two front paws up on the fence and gaze at me pathetically.

"Just jump, you dork!  I know you can do it!"

She would give a half-assed effort and make it about six inches off the ground, all the time whimpering like an abandoned baby seal.

I started walking back toward the house, thinking maybe if I acted like I was ditching her she would work up the effort to actually jump.

Nope.

She gave a few more half-assed efforts before fixing me with a huge doe-eyed gaze that plead, "Don't leave meeeee!"

Heaving a sigh, I went back over to the fence.  I couldn't haul her up, that was out of the question.  I couldn't get over the fence to lift her over, because that would be trespassing.

So I called upon the Bruce Banner within me and pushed down the metal fence enough for Brownie to clamor over it, only to get entangled in the wiring that used to be our electric fence that still ran along the perimeter of our property.  Cursing loudly, I pulled her free of the wiring.

What happened next was terrifying.

Brownie turned on me, her eyes suddenly devoid of any intelligence.  She began to leap all over me in a fit of ecstatic joy, and I found myself lashing out with my legs and arms, trying whatever I could to get this mindless animal off of me.  Her nails were scratching my legs and arms.  One in particular almost drew blood along my foot.

"Stop it!  Stop it!"  Then I drew in a breath and roared, "GET DOWN!"

She ducked as if I had thrown something at her, a hurt expression replacing the mindless elation.  I jabbed a finger toward the house, "Go eat your damn food!"

Of course, she didn't obey.  But at least she didn't try and jump up on me anymore as she followed me back to the house.  Once she caught sight of her food she immediately began scarfing it down.

"Bon apetit, dumbass."

I stomped inside the house and cursed when I saw I was covered in fur and dirt.

I heard Nala scratching at the garage door, a signal that she was done.

Reminding myself not to take out my frustration on Nala, I let her out of the garage and crooned to her about what a good girl she was.

I showed her the angry red mark on my foot where Brownie had scratched me. "See that?  Brownie did that.  She's an idiot."  In retrospect, I shouldn't have done that.  As soon as I let Nala back outside she pounced on Brownie and they started into each other's throats, snarling.

"HEY!  Stop it!"

Nala obeyed immediately.  Brownie padded off.

Satisfied they wouldn't fight anymore, I retreated back into the house.

In the end, I got about 20 minutes of peaceful Kimmy Time.  The rest was spent messing with the Idiot. 

And to make things worse, Avatar was nearly over by the time I got back to the TV.  I had missed the awesome tree falling-crushing scene.

It was the sour cherry atop my moldy chocolate sundae.

Up until this point I had been hoping we would keep Brownie and make her a part of the family.  I love animals, you can ask anyone who knows me.  Now, as horrible as it sounds, I won't be sad to see her go.

And I don't think Nala will be, either.

Love Never Dies (But Should)

A while ago I posted a rant about the Phantom of the Opera film adaptation. In it, I mentioned the dreaded sequel, Andrew Lloyd Webber's Love Never Dies. I think it's about time I tackled this bad boy.

Buckle up, kids, this one's a doozey.

(What's up with the creepy mask with the lipstick? Is the Phantom a tranny now?)

I'm gonna walk through the whole story, spoilers abound!

First off, I would like to question the purpose of this sequel. It didn't need to happen. Who walks away from the first show thinking, "Oh I wonder what happens next?"

No one!

The Phantom disappears into thin air, leaving his fate for the audience to decide. Did he escape? Did the mob get him? We don't know. And we're happy not knowing. The mystery is a part of the story.

But apparently Andrew Lloyd Webber didn't agree. According to him and the show's producer Cameron Macintosh, numerous fans were complaining that the Phantom and Christine should have wound up together in the end.

I dunno who these so-called fans are, but they need to get their heads checked. Yes, it would be nice to see the Phantom have a win, but their relationship is less-than-unhealthy to begin with. Could you imagine what their married life would be like?

"Phantom, dear, the sink needs fixing."

".....You don't know my name, do you?"

"Well of course, it's 'Phantom'!"

"No it isn't! Who names their child 'Phantom'?"

"A mother who feared and loathed you?"

"...Touche."

Or maybe like this:

('Fop' is a common nickname for Raoul)

Andrew Lloyd Webber also argues that Love Never Dies isn't supposed to be a sequel, rather, it's supposed to stand apart from the first show. Riiiiight, Andrew. It just happens to feature all the same characters and takes place directly after the first show. That doesn't sound like a sequel at all.

Before I really tear into this, lemme just say that I've never actually seen the show. But I've heard the soundtrack, I know the story, and I've actually seen quite a lot of clips on YouTube. So I think the following is justified.

For a basic summary of the show, allow me to refer you to this picture:

If that isn't obvious enough, I'll expound upon why this story sucks so royally.

The whole concept of the Phantom messing with Raoul and Christine is remarkably out of character.  Remember at the end of the first show when the Phantom decided to let Christine go because he realized her happiness was more important than his? Apparently Webber has chosen to send this fact sailing out the nearest window.

Alright, on with the story.

The year is 1907, ten years after the conclusion of the first musical, supposedly. I say 'supposedly' because the first show took place in 1881. I dunno who did the math but....it must've been someone important because everyone was too afraid to correct him. *coughWebbercough*

Christine, Raoul and their 10-year-old son Gustave arrive in New York at Coney Island. Christine has been hired to perform an aria at the show Phantasma by someone known simply as Mr. Y (guess who?). Apparently she and Raoul are desperate for money because Raoul has squandered it all on alcohol and gambling. Yes, you read that right. Raoul has become an abusive drunk. And in addition to being a horrible husband, he seems to have no interest in his child.  (I wouldn't either though, Gustave is dang annoying.  Just look at that hat.)

 

The show Phantasma is a popular freak show/beach resort. It's owned by the Phantom, but Christine and Raoul (somehow) don't realize this. 

Okay, hold on.

Why the crap would the Phantom want anything to do with freak shows, let alone own one? It, like so many other things in this show, makes no sense.

It takes Christine a whole day to realize the Phantom is actually Mr. Y. (Mr. Y. Mystery. Get it?  If anything, they should have called him Mr. E. It actually sounds like 'mystery' and his name is Erik, anyhow.)

The Phantom comes to Christine after Raoul goes off drinking and Gustave is in bed. He makes an overly dramatic entrance through...get ready for it...the front door! Aided by dry ice and booming music, he sweeps into the room.

They stare panting at each other for a moment before Christine snaps out of it.

She basically says, "I should have known it was you. What the crap are you doing in my life again? Out!"

To which the Phantom replies, "Alright I'll go, but not before we talk about how we had sex that one time."

They then proceed to sing for 6 horrific minutes about a long passionate night they spent together on the eve of Christine and Raoul's wedding. Okay. Christine and the Phantom were uber-virgins at that point. There's no way they could've done anything that would've lasted longer than 10 minutes. And forget about passionate, how about awkward?

Gustave wakes from a nightmare, likely induced from hearing them sing for 6 minutes about sex, and he meets the Phantom.

Their meeting goes something like this:

Phantom: Hello, small child.

Gustave: Hey. You own this place?

Phantom: Yep.

Gustave: It's awesome.

Phantom: I know.

Christine shoos him off to bed and the Phantom informs her she must sing in his show or else he'll kidnap Gustave.  I have a hard time imagining the Phantom threatening a child. Yes, he's a nutjob, but he's by no means evil. Plus, something tells me he'd rather avoid children altogether.

Before I move on I should probably explain how the Phantom came to be at Coney Island. He escaped Paris with the aid of Madame Giry and Meg and traveled to New York. They stayed with him, and ultimately helped him purchase a freak show on Coney Island that he turned into Phantasma. In the process, Meg somehow degraded into a whore that her mother pimped out to bosses that pulled strings for Phantasma's success.

In addition, Meg also falls head-over-heels in love with the Phantom. So when Christine comes along, Meg becomes insanely jealous.

Yeah.

It's almost as if Webber sat down and asked himself, "What could I do to completely destroy the integrity all of these characters had in the first show?"

The majority of the characters become horrible people in this sequel. Christine is probably the only character who is constant from the first show, except a little less herpy-derpy. A little.

And I wouldn't say the Phantom has become a horrible person, rather, he's become much more passive and docile. Lame, right? One of the integral facets of his character is his madness. There are a few moments in the show when he gets pretty angry, but none where he drops a chandelier or strangles a stagehand. In fact, there aren't even moments where he mutters to himself or laughs hysterically. The Phantom is supposed to be a hellbeast. Not a pansy.

This is most apparent in the scenes where the Phantom is unmasked. And get this, folks...the Phantom takes it off himself. He literally walks around talking to people unmasked.

How is this not true to his character, you ask? Every time his mask came off in the first show he flipped a lid and tried to kill someone. It's like he had a 'crazy' button and removing the mask was pushing it.

Okay, back to the story.

The next day Gustave wanders off on his own and winds up in the Phantom's quasi-lair. While he's there, Gustave starts to play a piano. The Phantom flips, "My god, you can play a simple tune! You're 10 years old! You must be MINE!"

And despite the Phantom singing this rather loud fatherhood epiphany three feet away, Gustave remains oblivious to the fact that the Phantom is his father.

Yep. Gustave is the Phantom's son.

The Phantom of the Opera reproduced.

Lemme just give you a minute to let that sink in...

....

Anyway.

They proceed to sing a ridiculous yet catchy song about how awesome it is to love weird nightmarish things. The Phantom unmasks himself, thinking his son will accept him. No such luck. The kid freaks out.

Christine shows up and sends the traumatized Gustave away. The Phantom whirls on her, "WOMAN! Why didn't you tell me we procreated?!"

Instead of replying something like, "Um, you disappeared after we did it, idiot." Christine says her marriage made her secret forbidden so she just rolled with it.

Instead of getting angrier (which would've been true to his character), the Phantom melts into a hopeless puddle of goo, "A son. My son!" And tells Christine to take Gustave and leave. She doesn't have to sing, after all.

Christine refuses, arguing that the song he wrote for her is too beautiful to not be heard (though she probably was just desperate for $$$).  After Christine leaves, the Phantom sings about how he finally has something to live for, someone to carry on his legacy.

He leaves, and Madame Giry enters, having heard everything. She's furious because she believes she and Meg should be privy to the Phantom's affections and legacy, not some little brat that came out of the blue.

Remember the awe-inspiring pants-wetting conclusion to Act 1 of the first show wherein the chandelier plummets over your head? No such luck. Instead, we get Madame Giry tossing Gustave's jacket on the floor. Feel the drama.

On to Act 2!

Remember that awesome Act 2 opening from the first show? With the fireworks and 'Masquerade'? No!  Such!  Luck!

We open on Raoul in a local bar, totally wasted. He's been drinking all night. In the meantime, he had found out the Phantom was behind everything. Why he didn't pack up Christine and Gustave and leave immediately is beyond me. Oh wait, it's because everyone is immensely out of character, Raoul especially so.

Anywho. Meg shows up and tries to get Raoul to take his family back to Paris. (She wants the Phantom to herself, after all.) Raoul blows her off and declares that he's not afraid of the Phantom.

Just then, the bartender turns around. It's the Phantom. Desperate for comic relief, the audience usually laughs rather loudly at this point.

The Phantom and Raoul then sing an awesome duet called 'Devil Take the Hindmost'. In it, the Phantom plays off of Raoul's weakness for gambling and strikes a deal with him. If Christine doesn't sing, Raoul can take his family back to Paris, his debts wiped clean by the Phantom. If Christine sings, Raoul must leave alone. Because apparently if Christine sings the song it means she loves the Phantom more than Raoul.

Raoul, alcoholic douche that he is, accepts the deal and the Phantom officially becomes a home-wrecker.

And because Raoul has apparently lost all common sense, he fails to tell Christine about the bet.

To cut a long story short, Christine winds up singing (without knowing the consequences), Raoul takes off, and the Phantom goes, "C'mere, babe, you're mine!" To which Christine replies, "Hey, where's Gustave?"

He's been kidnapped by Meg, who is beyond desperate for the Phantom's attention.

The Phantom, who is suddenly a caring parent, gets even more hysterical than Christine, "My son! I'LL TEAR ANYONE WHO TOUCHES HIM LIMB FROM LIIIIMB! RAAAAAAA!" Making this the only moment wherein the Phantom gets almost as mad/crazy as he does in the first show.

They take off after Meg and find her at the docks with Gustave. She's planning on drowning him. The Phantom, Christine, and Madame Giry show up and manage to get Gustave away from Meg. Meg turns a gun on herself and makes everyone listen to her sob story. Somehow, the Phantom hadn't realized she was whoring herself to help his finances.

He sings her down, trying to get the gun away from her. He tells her he does care about her, and she's just about to hand over the gun when he screws it up with, and I quote, "Beauty sometimes goes unseen. We can't all be like Christine."

To which Meg replies by shooting Christine.

It takes Christine a grand total of 5 minutes to die, breaking Eponine's 3 minute 30 second record of longest death in musical theater history.

As Christine lays dying, she tells Gustave who his real father is (since Raoul is gone). The Phantom holds Christine in his arms and they sing about how they love each other and how the Phantom needs to take care of Gustave and blah blah blah.

Christine finally kicks the bucket, and the Phantom and Gustave look at each other. Gustave removes the Phantom's mask and touches his face, then embraces him. Aaaaand curtain!

So, as you can see, the story is crap. You wanna know the kicker? Webber started working on it in 1990. Twenty two years ago. Twenty two freaking years and this is all he could come up with.

Lloyd Webber based his heinous story off of Frederick Forsyth's equally-heinous The Phantom of Manhattan. The title alone should have prevented this monstrosity from ever getting published. But, alas, if Twilight could, I suppose Forsyth's work could get published too.

The cast is perhaps the only redeeming factor of this show. Ramin Karimloo and Sierra Boggess play the Phantom and Christine.

I won't waste my time gushing over them because I already have in previous posts. But lemme just say that despite the shoddiness of the material they did the best they could. Their performances, both vocal and acting-wise, were excellent.

The music itself was fairly decent. I have most of the soundtrack, and I'll usually skip the majority of the songs except for "Till I Hear You Sing" and "Devil Take the Hindmost". Lloyd Webber boasted that this was his greatest work yet, and while I admit it's not complete crap, it's certainly not his best.

In fact, the title song "Love Never Dies" is a recycled version of Webber's "Our Kind of Love". No joke. YouTube them both and see for yourself. In addition, "Till I Hear You Sing" is also partially ripped from Webber's "If Not For Me For Her". In fact, as I'm researching this I'm finding multiple melodies from Webber's previous works have been recycled in this show.

I'll admit, though, the Phantom's mask is the best I've seen so far in any production of the first show. In addition, his makeup is a huge improvement from the first show. Look how well the mask fits Ramin Karimloo and how natural his makeup looks here:

Versus here when he performed in the first show:

This is very typical Phantom makeup for the first show. It looks fine from the audience but I've always thought it looked a little clownish up close.  The makeup and mask in Love Never Dies is a huge improvement, in my (distinguished) opinion.

So despite a crap story and semi-decent music, the show somehow got a fantastic budget. I think they should have spent their resources on a prequel, or a sequel wherein the Phantom is the only character from the first show who carries over.

I'm not going to draw up how I think a sequel should have gone because, as I stated before, I don't believe one should exist.

A prequel though? Yes please. Contrary to popular belief, the Phantom did not grow up inside the Opera House. In fact, he didn't get there until he was middle-aged. The rest of his life was spent abroad, a period of which was spent serving the Shah of Persia.

There have been quite a few fan-novels written and published wherein the authors give their take on Erik's life, the best of which is Susan Kay's Phantom. 

It has some weak points, but overall is a very entertaining and informative read. Kay takes the reader through Erik's entire life, from birth to death. The events that occur at the Paris Opera House only take up the last portion of the book. The rest are the events that make Erik who he is, and what eventually drives him away from mankind into the underbelly of the Opera House. I think it would have made an excellent show. (Or an Oscar-worthy film. Hint hint, Hollywood.)

If I ever come across cheap tickets to see Love Never Dies, I'll probably go just out of morbid curiosity. Though I can easily imagine myself getting booted out of the audience for laughing.  It's bad fanfiction on a big budget, I won't be able to restrain myself.

The show's Australian production (of which several of the above pictures are from) has been released on DVD and Blu-ray if any of you are brave enough to sit through the entire monstrosity.  But if it helps, I've been told the characters are more true to their original incarnations and the story has been tweaked a little to be less horrendous.

Regardless, I think we can all agree that love never dies, but in this case, should.