Showing posts with label Nazis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nazis. Show all posts

Monday, December 19, 2011

Randomness

I have survived the bulk of my finals (yay!), with only a social psych test (which I can use a cheat sheet on and already have pwned the class) left. So on that note, I would like to share a few random searches that have lead back to my blog.

- Nazi Vampires eating babies: I truly have no idea what this means. Seriously, I don't - something to do with Hellsing, which is a manga I haven't read... so still clueless. Sorry, guys.  I have a feeling such searches have arrived here, very disappointed.

- Byronic hero: Glad to see that one of my favorite character styles from English literature is oft searched after. Perhaps I shall do more follow up on this theme. Just in case would-be high school essay writers need some assistance.

- Nicholas Cage Vampire: Yes. Thank you, urban legends and my weird fascination in them for providing me with page views.

- Stephen Maturin: Ha! Someone else knows who this character by Patrick O'Brian. Win.

- The Producers Leopold Bloom Hysterics: It's really difficult to find funny scenes from this movie, especially this part of it. And according to [Львица], who searched this and ended up back at my blog, really the only available one is posted here. Cool beans.

- John Barrowman looking like Tom Cruise: This is personally my favorite. See, I am not alone in this realization.

http://www.prlookup.com
http://scifi.soentertain.me




Still weird. Will always be weird. And Barrowman will always be hotter.

Also, Tom Cruise looks like Zachary Quinto in this picture:

http://www.charlesayoub.com
http://www.tvpilotlight.com

 OH MY GOD TOM CRUISE STOP LOOKING LIKE OTHER HOT ACTORS. YOU'RE NOT THAT HOT...

Well, maybe he is... a little bit.

AHHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOO... God dammit.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

O Captain, My Captain

Disclaimer: This is NOT a blog post about Torchwood.

Shit... well, it is now. Can't bring up Captain without this flashing through my mind:


Okay, well, this WASN'T supposed to be a post about Torchwood. This is a post about Captain America (sorry for those of you who thought it was about a Walt Whitman poem. Better luck next time).


I realize now how many superhero movies I've seen this summer. Granted, there were a lot in theaters. But I saw A TON of them. I watched The Green Hornet on the flight to Scotland because it was something to do when I couldn't sleep and it had Christoph Waltz in it (other than Waltz, the movie was a disappointment). I saw X Men: First Class in Glasgow on our last day there (James McAvoy AND Michael Fassbender in the same film? WIN.) I saw The Green Lantern with a bunch of high school friends in the 'burbs. I did NOT see Thor but had how excellent the actor's abs were described to me about fifteen million times.

I was skeptical about Captain America. "A super-human created to defeat the Nazis? Isn't that defeating the purpose?" I thought (upon voicing this opinion to [X], an apparent comic book fan - which was news to me, yet another sign I don't know my friends much anymore - I got abrupt awkward silence. Oops). They actually carried that quite well by stressing that Steve Rogers is not a bully and the scientists are not trying to create a superior race of beings; they're just trying to win the war and help a guy do what he wants to do with his life, more or less.

Overall, the film was totally enjoyable. It was weird seeing Hugo Weaving (you know him as Agent Smith in The Matrix or Elrond in Lord of the Rings) play Red Skull, because it felt a bit like he was trying to channel Christoph Waltz's Hans Landa. At least until he was got all evil and red and... skull-ish. Chris Evans, though not the best of actors, was a pretty great Captain America (and buff, I must add; he ought to be after he had to take steroids to beef up that much). I freaking loved Peggy Carter (Hayley Atwell) (because who doesn't love a badass 1940s British chick?). I had no idea until like five minutes ago that THAT WAS STANLEY TUCCI PLAYING THE GERMAN SCIENTIST (Dr. Abraham Erskine). HOLY SHIT, DUDE.

I was, however, kind of disappointed in the ending. Because it was all building up for The Avengers film, which I totally expected, but still left me bummed out and feeling all sad and blue for poor Peggy and Captain America's relationship. Being frozen and discovered sixty years later certainly puts a damper on your love life. I'm looking really forward to The Avengers movie now, though, because I fricken' love Iron Man and Captain America is pretty awesome too. And Captain America had a nice dash of Howard Stark, which was fantastic. Gotta love the Starks.


So yeah. Thank you, Marvel, for making your superhero movies better than they were a few years ago. I congratulate you. I may still be partial to Batman, but because I can only watch Christopher Nolan's dark flicks for so long before feeling rather grim and angsty, I'm glad there's another superhero franchise where things are tending to be... a bit on the brighter side of life, you might say.

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Craig Ferguson, I love you

I once again spent my night in a place I wouldn't exactly consider my scene - a casino. But not for gambling, no, not for that. Instead, I saw a comedy show featuring Craig Ferguson, a FANTASTIC Scottish comedian who hosts "The Late Late Show" on CBS and was on 'The Drew Carey Show." It was basically a dream come true, as I have been dying to see him since about... oh, junior year of high school? I have long believed that he is the funniest man in the universe. And this show reaffirmed this belief.

The show opened with a guy named Randy Kagan, who was super funny. Not as funny as Craig, but still fantastic in his own right. Then Craig Ferguson... ah, Craig Ferguson. If you can survive a rough Glaswegian childhood and alcoholism and still be this goddamn happy and funny, then you, my friend, are AMAZING. I just don't know how he does it. He starts off with a topic, then goes off on this tangent and, by the end of the show, he's back to where he started. It's incredible. And you're laughing so hard the entire time your sides ache. This guy can tell you a story about drinking 12 pints of Guinness and then taking acid and, while being completely honest about the situation, still make it humorous without sugar coating anything. I've heard comedy called tragedy plus someone that's not you, but I think maybe there's something a little bit deeper than that to really good humor. Something more sincere and emotional.

But whatever, I'm getting way too Oprah here. The point is, I had a not-so-great week. I kept feeling clumsy and exhausted and insecure and finally, FINALLY I feel good again. Somewhere between the jokes about Hitler having a nice ass because of goose-stepping and the bits about how Ren Fests aren't authentic because people have all of their teeth, all the little petty things that bothered me throughout the week evaporated. I'm laughing too hard at Canadian jokes and Craig Ferguson playfully making fun of himself that suddenly, nothing else matters. Douchey landlord? Bah. Awkward social life? Whatever. Being mostly unemployed and having no idea what to do with my life? Not important. Craig Ferguson making me laugh so hard I'm crying? NOTHING ELSE  MATTERS.
That's right, bitch - I know I'm funny
Humor for the win. I highly recommend watching this guy. Like, right now. Get off this blog watch him on Youtube, and laugh your ass off. And if you don't laugh... well, I can't help you there. But tell you what - I'll give you two videos for the price of one: one of my old favs and a random one I just came across. Not the same as seeing him live. But it'll do, it'll do.





Saturday, September 17, 2011

May I take your hat, your coat and your swastikas?

As this post alludes to, I attended a lecture yesterday with [Львица] about a cultural phenomenon known as "Holocaust Envy." Except it wasn't quite what we were expecting. [Львица] covers it very nicely on her blog. So I'm going to talk about a different part of the lecture - namely the guy who was sitting besides me.

I try not to judge (and ultimately fail, every time) but the guy was a bit odd from the start. He entered the room, huffing and puffing as if he'd just run up the stairs instead of taking the elevator to the eleventh floor. He sat next to me and, throughout the whole lecture, he breathed heavily, constantly putting me on edge that he was going to pass out or something. Then at the end, during the questions section, he suddenly raised his hand and asked two very odd questions. Well, first he made a statement, calling the use of the presenters words very "generalized" if I remember quickly. Then he asked about the Ukrainian holocaust and asked why no one spoke about it, why it wasn't part of this presentation, why the Holocaust gets special treatment. The lecturer pointed this man out as a perfect example of "Holocaust envy," that he was in fact "seething with it." This did not make the man any too happy. He then repeated his next question - "Who wanted the Holocaust?" [Львица] and I could not quite believe we were hearing him correctly. We thought perhaps it was something sort of sarcastic, a reminder that the Nazis or the actually events of the Holocaust needed mentioning as someone before had brought this up. Maybe he wanted some sort of clarification, as in who wants Holocaust envy, who uses it to their purposes. But he clearly did not mean any of these things. The lecturer was not allowed to answer this man's question and the man left, saying his meter was running out, trying to emphasize that he was (supposedly) not leaving intentionally. But, with all truthfulness, I was pretty glad he left.


What can the answer possibly be to that, who wanted the Holocaust? In that situation, the only answer that it seemed he was going to come up with was the Jews. Which makes zero sense, really. Unless you're one of those nut-jobs who thinks the Jews "created" the Holocaust so that people will feel bad for them (they exist, I'd direct you to check out this totally disgusting website this guy created who's convinced that the tattoos from Auschwitz are fake and part of some "Jewish conspiracy" but I don't want the creep to get any more page views than necessary). So unless he had some sort of really complex answer to the question, like the complicated history of how hatred towards Jews arose in 1920s and 1930s Germany - and he did NOT look like the sort of guy who'd have that knowledge ready to spout off in the middle of a lecture (plus it would have had nothing to do with any of the material covered, as far as I can figure) - then the only answer he could have spawned would have been one that labeled him as a...well, kind of a Neo-Nazi. Too bad he left before I got the chance to ask...

Then again maybe it was for the better. Regardless - life tile.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Death and all his friends

Okay, so I wrote this blog for another blog (for one of my classes) but I really like it and want to save it. So forgive my recycling. Basically, this is about the book White Noise (which is fantastic - read it) and how the main character thinks about history. We could only site three passages and were limited to how many of those passages could be directly about history or death. Anyway, I had fun writing this and I'm too lazy to write anything new right now :P

This is going to be a bit tricky, summing up Jack Gladney’s understanding of history without referring to any other passages in the book, as I think I’ve developed an obsession for Delillo’s way with worlds, but I’ll give it my best.

Jack has a curious approach to history – yet one that is seems pretty familiar at second glance. He and his son, Heinrich, have a conversation that alludes to his view of history while the two of them are discussing Tommy Roy Foster, the man Heinrich plays chess by mail with and criminal who killed six people in Iron City.

“‘He says if he had to do it all over again, he wouldn’t do it as an ordinary murder, he’d do it as an assassination.’
‘He would select more carefully, kill one famous person, get noticed, make it stick.’
‘He knows he won’t go down in history.’
‘Neither will I.’
‘But you’ve got Hitler.’
‘Yes, I have, haven’t I?’” (45)

This passage shows two basic ways Jack sees history – making it (in this case, killing people, though even that may not be enough for Tommy Roy Foster to be considered important) or studying it, as Jack does; with this we’re back to our first blog post, caught between Ranke and Sam Byck’s methods. This passage also echoes the urge of being remembered, of wanting history to keep note of what happened, even if it is something terrible, as in murder. Like Loughner, Sam Byck and others, Tommy fears being forgotten – a sentiment Jack himself can understand. But as Heinrich reminds him, he has Hitler to fall back on, something to cling to and perhaps, through his creation of Hitler studies, be remembered for his work.

Jack mentions more of his association with Hitler, this time in a conversation with Denise, Babette’s daughter about the Third Reich. 

“‘They lost the war,” she said. “How great could they be?’
‘A valid point. But it’s not a question of greatness. It’s not a question of good and evil. I don’t know what it is. Look at it this way. Some people always wear a favorite color. Some people carry a gun. Some people put on a uniform and feel bigger, stronger, safer. It’s in this area that my obsessions dwell.’" (63)

Jack admits that his study of Hitler is more than just work; it’s an obsession. Connected to this obsession is the idea of belonging to something bigger than oneself – to feel “bigger, stronger, safer” as Jack says. Jack also admits that he doesn’t quite understand why things are this way. Through a simple, basic way of explaining this to Denise, he also works to convince the reader of this stance – that there is something prevalent in history with groups that bond together, whether for better or for worse – in revolutions, in political parties, and (in more current situations) the Tea party. 

Interconnected with his Hitler obsession seems to lie another obsession – death. Jack mentions it repeatedly and towards the end of the chapter, he ruminates on it once again.

“When I read obituaries, I always note the age of the deceased. Automatically I relate this figure to my own age. Four years to go, I think. Nine more years. Two more years and I’m dead. The power of numbers is never more evident than when we use them to speculate on the times of our dying.” (98)

Though he is dealing with small, local histories, reading the obituaries of people from his town, Jack is heavily impacted by this, especially as he has a fear of death, notably dying alone. He also effectively impacts the reader in a personal way, playing off of the idea of running out of time. He and Heinrich discussed this before with Tommy, and now Jack seems to be feeling it himself – he could be dead in two years. Numbers indeed do gain more power in that aspect. This certainly made me think about how I feel about my age. I always cringe a bit when I tell people that I don’t have a boyfriend, have never had a boyfriend and thus feel like I am subtly being judged. My grandmother, who was married by my age, already fears I have become a spinster. Though I’m only twenty (or already twenty, depending on your mindset) there’s already pressure that I’ve missed some specific opportunities in my life and that, as the saying goes, “I’m not getting any younger.” Through fear of missing out on opportunities (like relationships and so on) is there a fear of death? Kind of seems like it, from Jack’s way of thinking.

Life is short, time is running out – all of these common sentiments play into Jack’s worries and these powerful ideas powerfully sway the reader to understand where he is coming from. He worries about death and dying alone, which references his obsession with Hitler and bonding together into a greater entity… which involves more death. And once more, history is focused on dead people and dying. Yay.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Nazis Can't Surf


I recently saw "Surf Nazis Must Die" and am terribly torn as to whether it is the worst movie ever or not. Previously, I thought "The Room" was beautifully horrible. But now... now I am questioning that logic.

Which reminds me I should really write up something about "The Room." But not now. Now it is the time of the Surf Nazis.

Surf Nazis think they're totally badass. But for some reason all they're capable of doing is spray painting really badly, putting puff-paint swastikas on their clothes and stealing stuff. Oh, and randomly killing people in pretty nasty ways (especially 'cause one Nazi has a hood hand. And he goes surfing while wearing said hand. Right...). Adolf, their leader, acts like a stereotypical gay man and people who appose him make fun of him for this. Until he has an awkwardly explicit sex scene with his girl in the first 20 minutes of the film. After that, it's just weird. Especially when he returns wearing a cape with a giant swastika on the back. I can't decided if I should be more offended by the symbol, the ideology they're trying to link to it, the fact that they may have no idea of the ideology it entails, or how tacky it all appears. It's probably all of the above, really.

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention the Surf Nazis surf (randomly, in wetsuits with more swastikas). It's like somebody wanted to make a movie about surfing and didn't know how, but also had this random anarchist subplot and tried to think of a really badass gang. And the most badass thing they could think of were Nazis. But they'd obviously never payed much attention during their history classes and had never been to Europe (especially Germany). Or they were trying to mock Nazis... and just failed. Regardless, this ridiculous hodge-podge disaster is worth watching. If only because I can't figure out what is exactly it's trying to accomplish. Or why anyone would ever think it was a good idea.

I won't give away the ending (yes I will - all the Surf Nazis die. Big surprise, right?) but I will give one last critique. If you're going to make a movie about Nazis, please learn what a Fuhrer is before you decided that you're main character is the Fuhrer of the new beach. Yes, I may be a bit obsessed with history. But such a painful insult to history and screenwriting that I can't help but think this movie is really the worst thing I've come across in a while. It is lacking the mesmerizing honestly of horribleness that "The Room" presents. But that almost makes "The Room" a better movie...

Ugh. You'd think it'd be easy to decide what's the worst movie ever. But it's just not that simple. To be decided at another time...
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