Alejandro Iñarritu’s comments were fair and reasonable and not all that controversial.


I suspect Alejandro Iñarritu’s little foray into vague politicization stream of consciousness during his acceptance speech after Birdman won Best Picture at tonight’s Oscars might raise a few eyebrows punctuated with bones of resentful contention, especially when one considers its victory paralleled the so-called desertion of Selma and All Things Black by the Academy.

Frankly, I’m thrilled such a tremendously intelligent, abstract movie was recognized in its own right. It’s pleasing to see such efforts rewarded.

I don’t see that Iñarritu’s comments were out of bounds or inflammatory. They were dignified, understated and reasonable. We can leave that trigger language to those groups which might have wanted Selma to go farther than it did.

Only in an environment of polarization can Iñarritu’s words be considered remotely “controversial.”

Well, that is the environment, I suppose…

Posted in i d'own need no stinkeeng categorees

The changing face of cinema, the Oscars, and a new cinematic jewel for the decade.

Yeah, I think they are a little silly.


They are dumb, trivial, but not worth the time and energy of my passionate scorn. I’ll leave that for other haters.

Some people get worked up about the tomfoolery of the spectacle. They spend too much time complaining about such insignificant cultural detritus. Personally, I just don’t care that much about the Academy Awards. Those who march down that red carpet, or line the same carpet with goo-goo eyes, issue from a different world than I.

We must all have our own brand of “fun,” right? Mine appears to be maintaining a stupid blog. Who’s to say this isn’t just as stupid as idolizing a bunch of vapid celebrities?

In any case, the Academy Awards are upon us, and Los Angeles, being “the” Industry town (a claim that is slowly petering away), revels in the annual occasion. Joan Rivers is gone, so much of the pre-show spectacle that has been the lure for many people who might not be entirely into the award show is no longer. It’s light-hearted stuff, this show biz. Nothing important happens other than that which sprouts in the minds of the ego-driven participants.

I take an interest in movies insofar as they are intellectual feats of storytelling and literary level symbolism, which, in modern American parlance, results in me only liking maybe one, two, or even three movies each year. All other movies are simply boring, bland and unremarkable. Most theatrical features are commercial enterprises with nothing to say but everything to show, and the domestic and international audiences eat that overblown spectacle up. Which goes to show that pop intellectualism is dead and buried in most of the world, not solely the United States. No one wants to be “serious” for movies. Movie-goers want explosions, sex, violence, warm gooey feelings of love, popcorn, soda and candy.

Marvel, especially, seems to embody this mindless profit. Nothing amuses me more than listening to young, hipster types trying to over-think fictional super-humans. Boring. I can’t enjoy that crap, I don’t understand how it’s so popular. I guess people, even many intelligent people, are simply not that discerning or demanding in the realm of intellectualism.

The nature of the business is changing rapidly, as well.

Those of us on the “inside” know it well. I’m being facetious, obviously, because even though I work in the entertainment industry, I’m hardly from the Inside, but I do see, have seen for several years, how emerging digital technology and the concomitant voluminous data pipelines have thoroughly transformed movie-making. Gone are the film and tapes of yore. The physical magnetic and celluloid media are dead thanks to bits and bytes and all that the new digital media portends for efficiency and speed of delivery and shrinkage of the planet, hence, profitable condensation of an industry that once depended on land or air travel if it chose to produce films far from the Los Angeles home base. This was great for California in the infancy of the film industry; now, as television and movie production, courtesy of digital technology, relies less on geography as a mitigating expense factor (oh, tax breaks don’t hurt), it is not as crucial that Los Angeles remains the “home base.” A movie can be shot in Georgia or South Carolina or New York without a hitch thanks to new dailies systems which are smaller and more powerful. They can literally be “mobilized” wherever production is located, even if it’s around the world. Thus all dailies work, which once had to be done back at home base, can now be accomplished onsite and the digitized product then transmitted via very high-speed data lines back to Los Angeles. Sure beats shipping film canisters back to Los Angeles after each day’s shoot…and then, still necessitate dailies transfers to tape.

Which leads to the next evolutionary step in entertainment: consumer streaming.

As digitization of HD footage has become more efficient and widespread, and as internet pipelines have become faster, the appeal of simply watching filmed entertainment on your television has grown. Movie theaters are pricing themselves into “special occasion” territory. The only movies worth spending the kind of money that theaters charge now are big, massive spectacles of special effects that these same theaters can exemplify with their large screens and complex sound systems which can’t be replicated in most living rooms. But even this is slowly changing. UHD and 4K televisions are becoming ubiquitous and watching movies on these “mini-theaters” at home has frankly become a tantalizing alternative to movie theaters with all their attendant crying babies and loudmouth scumbag patrons.

Steven Spielberg and George Lucas, titans of the Industry, foresaw such cinematic evolution. With home entertainment technology, the movie-watching experience can be just as wonderful and you never have to step out of the house or spend over $30 just to eat shitty food. Movie theaters are becoming exclusive bastions of pricey, “Broadway-style” entertainment.

George Lucas agreed that massive changes are afoot, including film exhibition morphing somewhat into a Broadway play model, whereby fewer movies are released, they stay in theaters for a year and ticket prices are much higher.

Being that movies which harbor that “big screen picture” draw do not usually appeal to me, I’ve been going to theaters a lot less than I used to. The last movie I watched on the big screen for the promise of its 3D-glorified IMAX spectacle, was Godzilla. I expected little story, less plot, and even less clever authorship, and I was not disappointed. That movie was all about the monster!

The Academy Awards are a fun watch, but I doubt I’ll sit in front of the television tonight. I’ll most likely find out which movie won the Best Picture via the news. Most of the acceptance speeches are tiring and droll. Watching slender babes try to maneuver off the stage with the hefty Oscar in hand is not particularly fun. Maybe…if they toppled over in their heels regularly, I might trouble myself to watch.

The award fixation also seems a particularly female and gay thing. Real men don’t watch that stuff. The delineation has roughly been so for as long as I can remember. Women and gays are interested in people, especially fancy, hobnobby people, and the Academy Awards are the ultimate voyeuristic people-watching event. This dynamic played itself out when I was still young. My mom would ceremoniously make special time for the Oscars that Sunday night each late Winter. My father, on the other hand, would find every reason to be as far from the television as possible. To this day, he derisively calls the show, and by generic association, all televised awards shows, los monitos. I’ve never asked him, but I suspect this is a play on the Spanish word, muñeca, which means “doll.” Rendering it with the suffix of “-ito” trivializes the Spanish word and transforms it into a comment of self-affected artifice. It’s a very simple, but very descriptive, word…which Spanish colloquialisms tend to be.

Which brings me to the crux of this long ol’ post about something for which I boast such apathy and disinterest: the Oscars.

As I said earlier, it’s rare that more than a couple of movies each year catch my attention to the degree I am spellbound by their execution. Most movies go in one ear and out the other. Most movies leave me feeling entirely unaffected (unless I paid for it, in which case, the economic blow leaves a lingering distaste…). Even rarer are the movies that stand out so strongly that I must parse them into 10-year-rare offerings of magnificence. The first movie to achieve the special Best of the Decade notoriety for the Tens of the new millennium was released last Fall.

I wrote a very short homage to it on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. So spectacular was the movie, I could not conjure words that would do the masterpiece any justice.

And it is a masterpiece. I don’t speak loftily of movies.

Birdman is one of the best movies I’ve seen in many years. For this reason, I may actually take a cursory interest in tonight’s award show. But not a whole lot.

Posted in i d'own need no stinkeeng categorees

LA County’s MTA basing public policy on the displaced data of suggestible female minds.

There is one thing I will utter shamelessly about women. Something I’ve learned over my many years. I will not back down on this one.

Women are very impressionable and excruciatingly susceptible to suggestion. Any man worth his salt learns, in time, that some of his most sincere, honest revelations should never be remarked out loud in the presence of his girlfriend or wife. A man, after experiencing the lifelong innate female weakness that blossoms in her inner mind, that capricious soul with its tenuous hold on life’s duality, realizes painfully that to utter a trifling self-doubt or unabashed weakness to a woman is akin to planting the seeds of such thoughts in her mind and thus, energizes an externally planted train of thought, or mental pattern, that she might never have held until the idea was uttered and received by her quivering sense of mutable self.

You never tell a woman something you don’t want to eventually have to face when its pointed back menacingly at you sometime in the future under less pleasant circumstances.

If you confide an insecurity or self-doubt to a woman, she will allow the root of this thought to expand radiantly and harmfully in her mind. It will spawn and proliferate damaging exaggerations of your sincere contribution and you, essentially, have opened her previously closed mind to a new train of thought that she is now watering and pruning, thanks to your big mouth. And she will allow such thoughts to fester until the appointed time when she wrathfully unleashes it to wreak havoc on your relationship. Women don’t think about shit until you mention it, then all hell breaks loose because they arrived at a conclusion they don’t seem to realize was never arrived at on their own.

Ever talk to a woman after she wakes from a dream in which she argued with you, or in which you cheated? She will contain that dreamy anger-residue and it will follow her into this waking state where she will bare razor claws across your unsuspecting ass like Freddie Krueger springing from an unformed limbo waking nightmare.

Women’s minds are very malleable. If you suspect a woman has never considered a certain avenue, just mention it to her and you’ll find that in time, she has become consumed with it. All you need to do is drop the kernel in her brain. Walk away and let it stew in that emotional, impressionable Petri dish that is her mental state.

This is also why the kooky PUA community has adopted NLP (neuro-linguistic programming) as one of its cornerstones of pick-up artistry. Such a tool exploits the wallowing female persona which can easily be enjoined into any externally constructed path laid out by anyone halfway adroit with NLP.

And it is also why I am disgusted by a new move afoot, thanks to LA County’s Metro Authority, to bring the hammer down on alleged “victimization” of women, which evidently has become such a proliferate, concerning menace that they include such matters as part of a battery of questions routinely presented as an annual survey which riders are free to voluntarily complete. The MTA conducted this survey as a method of determining just how dire the hidden sexual harassment plague had become on our trains.

As was the case last year, the survey included a question asking Metro riders about sexual harassment. Specifically, the question asked riders if they had experienced unwanted sexual behavior including, but not limited to, touching, exposure or inappropriate comments in the past six months.

Twenty two percent of those who responded said ‘yes’ in this year’s survey. The question was worded slightly differently last year when the question asked if riders “felt unsafe” due to harassment in the previous month; 21 percent of rail riders and 18 percent of bus riders answered ‘yes.’

Yes, it’s all in the wording, especially when you’re relying on self-reported unpleasantness as reported by women long after the fact. Surely, this is more accurate than police arrest records.

In the 2014 calendar year, the Sheriff’s Department received 99 reports from riders related to sexual harassment with the LASD saying that 37 of those reports met the legal threshold for sexual harassment. Twenty arrests were made as a result of the reports, with offenses that included unwanted touching, indecent exposure and/or inappropriate comments. There were a total of about 450 million boardings on Metro buses and trains in 2014.

And of course, all this blather and wah-wah self-pity is not worth a thing unless a concerted activist crusade is spawned which concurrently justifies the existence of lots of sensitive, yammering talking heads.

Currently, Metro is working with the advocacy group Peace Over Violence to develop a strong campaign to stop sexual harassment and empower potential victims. We will launch the campaign to coincide with National Sexual Harassment Awareness month in April. Our campaign speaks to our riders on three themes:
•Sexual harassment is a testing ground. People who start out with uncomfortable remarks or touching are just testing to see how far they can go. If unchecked, the harassment can ramp up to stalking, assault and even rape.
•People don’t have to tolerate it. Many incidents go unreported because the victim mistakenly thinks nobody cares and nothing will be done. We encourage passengers to report any incident of sexual harassment.
•Keep yourself safe. Sexual harassment can happen to women and men, girls and boys. We can keep ourselves and other safe by reporting sexual harassment. We will continue to monitor the levels of harassment through our research program which includes the semi-annual Customer Satisfaction Survey.

It’s all about empowerment! This tripe is a money-maker for hordes of swiney bureaucrats and do-goody meddlers and self-justifiers.

So in 2014, 20 arrests were made by the Los Angeles Sheriff Department for sexual harassment on MTA buses or trains…a grain of sand in comparison to the millions of riders who routinely boarded public transportation last year.

Still, the MTA’s lauded survey mocks reality, but we must listen to it. The survey questionnaire presented females with questions that lead an impressionable mind to inflame memories and passions. Who needs Fifty Shades when you have the MTA sexual harassment survey?

As was the case last year, the survey included a question asking Metro riders about sexual harassment. Specifically, the question asked riders if they had experienced unwanted sexual behavior including, but not limited to, touching, exposure or inappropriate comments in the past six months.

Twenty two percent of those who responded said ‘yes’ in this year’s survey. The question was worded slightly differently last year when the question asked if riders “felt unsafe” due to harassment in the previous month; 21 percent of rail riders and 18 percent of bus riders answered ‘yes.’

The MTA, realizing that arrest numbers are infinitesimally smaller than the numbers they want to see, numbers which will justify spending and oodles of consternation on the part of bored public officials, now paints the bulls-eye around the facts and asserts that many incidents go “unreported.”

Uh-huh…if a tree falls in the forest, does it make a sound…?

Los Angeles County’s Metropolitan Authority has resorted to basing public policy on surveys of women who, experience tells us, willfully expound on the victim role if granted the stage and the suggestion.

Posted in i d'own need no stinkeeng categorees

Invasion Of The Snatches: a real modern horror story of female retribution.

So what happened, apparently, is that a cop from Ontario, California, (about 50 miles east of downtown Los Angeles), caught the attention of, and noticed, a 17-year-old “child” he crossed paths with while on duty.

Hey, you know.

Shit happens, and it happened apparently, for the two began having a terrible, odious, immoral and illegal sexual relationship.

The guy is a cop. He knew the stakes. But in every man’s lusty heart, there is a finely-tuned scale that weighs each pending sexual encounter with its offsetting as-promised-debacle of reputation and criminality. In this case, Officer Stone probably thought, hey, she’s hot, she’s young, and she’s willing.

There is nothing more inviting to a healthy man than the luscious, feminine curves of a 17-year-old heterosexual chick. And if she’s willing to overlook the culturally inhibited legalities, all the better. A man will weigh these possibilities on that little heart-scale of his, and decide it’s worth the risk. Or not.

Officer Stone did, and now he’s lost his job, and possibly his freedom, for this grand moral transgression.

Ah, America.

Land of prosperity and perverted judicial infringement. The charges which Stone faces flabbergast me. A 17-year-old girl, as we all know, especially in Southern California, is surely the epitome of that nubile, flowered virgin lacking all presence of mind and is thus unable to make mature decisions (in America, female “maturity” is an arbitrary, feminist delineation, which, by definition, is grounded in all social self-righteousness).

He turned himself in Thursday evening after a warrant was issued for his arrest on charges that included oral copulation of a minor, unlawful sex with a minor and child molestation, the release stated.

I can’t tell you how proud I am of our legal system for weeding out men and supplanting them with the most annoying, voracious, uptight specimens of cultural high-minded detritus to plague my fucking life.

Gambled and lost.  Another victim of Prude Culture.

Gambled and lost. Another victim of Prude Culture.

Our culture is like Invasion Of The Body Snatchers, except it’s the “snatches” that are replacing common sense.

Invasion of the Snatches.

She’s only 17! How dare you lay your hands on that child.

We will ruin your life!

Posted in i d'own need no stinkeeng categorees

California Corruption: The Nuñez legacy.

I’m angry at myself for just now finding a wonderful LA Times examination of the 2008 murder of 22-year-old Luis Santos on the San Diego CSU campus at the hands of several college thugs, one of whom happened to be Esteban Nuñez, propitiously the son of California establishmentarian Democratic politician, Fabian Nuñez.

The article, published last December, recounts, in sordid, embarrassing detail, the corrupt depths to which career Hispanic politicians in California bring that apparently genetic brand of corruption to American politics behind the pretense racial inequality and the intrinsic obligation to offset its legacy with dishonesty and crookedness.

Fabian Nuñez’ story, in itself, is indeed motivational and striking, but like many Mexican-American politicians, it becomes tainted with the self-annointed wondrous narrative of over-compensated public bureaucrat.

Nuñez, rising from the Tijuana ghetto and becoming California’s Assembly Speaker by his early 40’s, typically continued his meteoric rise with a resounding plummet back to the reality of his mortal ethnic tendrils due to greed and blind familial psychopathic obligations.

And on a larger scale of corruption that spans across all the floors of the murky California Capitol, Christopher Goffard, the author of the expose, also draws in the political whoring of Arnold Schwarzenegger. Goffard details the culmination of the not-so-strange bedfellows (a Republican Governor and Democratic Speaker), at least here, into a critical mass of corruption and opportunism, and ultimately, a repugnant and cowardly song-and-dance act on the part of the Terminator Pussy Politician himself.

To explain beyond this is to trample on Goffard’s detailed work.

Read it, and you will get a glimpse into El Estado de California and all its innate, Third-World style corruption.

The crime for which Esteban Nuñez was convicted occurred in October, 2008.

In November, his father left office, the victim of term limits and a foiled attempt to overthrow those existing legislated political buzzkills. For once, California legislation spared us a fiend knocking at the door.

Knives, a death, a famous name


A trifecta of crooks.  Welcome to California.  Please visit again!

A trifecta of crooks. Welcome to California. Please visit again!

Posted in i d'own need no stinkeeng categorees