Sleeping Beauty Is Fucking Useless

I watched Sleeping Beauty with my niece recently.  It was fun, watching on a old VHS tape, seeing her little face light up as she watched it, and my own memories of the film.  It’s something I grew up with, and watched often with my sister and cousins.  Hell, one of my cousins still proudly proclaims Princess Aurora to be her favorite princess.

As I watched, two thoughts came to mind.

One, the animation is amazing, and still looks great to this day.  It looks like you're literally taking a peek into one of those old school tomes that you used to see monks in medieval films writing and illustrating.

Two, Princess Aurora has got to be the most absolutely useless of the Disney Heroines.

Think about it.  Really, there are only two or three real sequences where she has any sort of usefulness.

1. The Dancing Sequence in the Forest, which may or may not have led to bestiality had Prince Philip not interrupted.
2. Her tantrum at discovering that not only is she set for life as a princess, but unfortunately has to leave the random stranger she met in the woods behind forever.  Oh shit, what a trade off!
3. The scene where she can’t resist the urge to touch that god damn spindle, which could possibly be emitting more neon light than Vegas.

And that’s pretty much it.  Some resume, huh?  In fact, when you think about it, Sleeping Beauty is really the only Disney film in which the princess is outshone by the supporting cast.

Hat Tip To J. Scott Campbell

First off, she has one of the most iconic baddies in Maleficent, who not only crashes baby showers to deliver evil curses and possibly finish off the cocktail weenies, but also can turn into a huge ass dragon and can tear shit up if necessary.  And who knows what plans she had for Prince Philip by keeping him hostage in the dungeon until he was older than Hugh Hefner.  Me thinks Maleficent had a kinky streak in her and that her plans were less along the lines of ultimate evil and vengeance and more along the lines of buttsex.

Hat Tip To SquareEnix

Speaking of Prince Philip, outside of the Beast from Beauty and The Beast and Grumpy from Snow White, there probably isn’t a more competent male character in the Disney Universe.  The man can ride a horse, is brave, honest, can whoop a lot of ass, and shows a talent from trimming hedges.  Homeboy can be my wingman anytime.

Hat Tip To Disney

And who can forget the fairies, who have all the magical abilities of Harry Potter and the lovable traits of the Golden Girls?  These ladies are awesome.  The wardrobe possibilities that they can pull off alone made them kick ass.  You’ll never have to do laundry or spend a day at the mall again.  Though be prepared to be flickering like a sign at some sleazy hotel as they fight over the color possibilities. Although those places do usually have the magic fingers.  Those things are awesome!

Pouring out the 40 before going to drink in front of their Mom's house.

Even the father-in-laws have more of a purpose on the film than Princess Aurora.  They only have one real sequence in the entire film, but it’s awesome!  Their contribution of easily the best drinking song in the Disney Universe alone is enough for them to get at least some sort of generic overpriced shanty tavern in Frontierland in Disneyland:Deluth.

Really, when you break it down, Princess Aurora is really a side character in her own film.  You really don’t meet her until a quarter of the way through, and spends half her time out cold on her back.  Yeah, sorry cousin, if I want my niece to emulate a character, I’ll focus on someone a lot more kick ass.  Like Mulan.

Bonus Clip:  Skumps! Bitches!

Duke City Noms: The Frontier

Hat tip from MacInstruct for their photo.

2400 Central Avenue Southeast  Albuquerque, NM 87106 (505) 266-0550

The Duke City is my second home, and one of the few cities that I feel instantly at home in (the other two being Chicago and Las Vegas.)  It’s got a thriving art community, tasty local beers, and great night life.  It’s also got a lot of things that appeal to a nerd like me, but I digress.  That’s a story for another time.

In the meantime, I’ll switch over to the universal love of peeps.  Noms.  Otherwise known as food.
Albuquerque has got some great eats to go to, some fancy, some casual; but somehow or another, I always end up at the fucking Frontier.

The Frontier is an Albuquerque tradition, located across from the UNM campus on Central, and practically open for eternity.  It’s rustic, it’s yellow, it’s dirty, and it doesn’t apologize.  It’s also got some great fucking greasy food that you must indulge in.  Whether you’re seeking a burger cooked to truck stop perfection, the home cooked taste of pancakes in the morning that IHOP lacks in their soulless concoctions (except for Stuffed French Toast, that kicks ass and takes names), or just whatever sort of Mexican food that New Mexico has somehow managed to fuck up to a certain extent, I’m not going to lie.  The noms here are fucking fantastic.  And the prices are decent too, which helps if you’re on a budget for a vacation, and happened to blow your wad of cash at a concert, strip club, or on several items at the art supply store that you didn’t need (not that I’m admitting anything.)

Another reason to go is the crowd.  There are some interesting peeps that frequent here, usually college students of all shapes, sizes, styles, and nationalities.  All of whom are more than game for a bit of conversation as you wait in the usually nightclub-ish long line to place your order.  Fun times!

All in all, if you’re headed to the Duke City, give the Frontier a try.  The food is all-good, so no recommendations except one.  Try the cinnamon rolls.  It’s like Mardi Gras in your mouth, but without the public nudity and drunken debauchery.

NOMNOMNOM!!!!

The Dark Glory Of The Bachman Books

The Dark Glory Of The Bachman Books

Warning:  This is a long one.  Please use the restroom, and  get yourself a tasty beverage and possibly a snack before reading.  Though please try and resist the impulse to spill said tasty beverage on yourself.

Stephen King is quite possibly my favorite modern author.  He’s got a way with words that I can only dream to someday wield, and his imagination is second to none.  He’s crafted some of the most memorable stories, characters, and commentary in modern times, and his books have inspired countless movies, comic books, and writers everywhere.

Richard Bachman was another writer who had an exceptional way of expressing himself in words.  He also crafted memorable stories, amazing characters, and had a dark, slightly evil imagination.  His books were enjoyable stories about rebellion against the status quo, though in the end, the novels are rather bleak, slightly depressing, and ultimately leave you feeling defeated.

Both are also the same guy.

Bachman is King, or rather, King was Bachman.  It’s a bit of a long story, but to sum it up, from King’s own explanation, King created the Richard Bachman identity in order to publish more of his work, in particular work which the public would not have associated with Stephen King.  It seems to have become a bit of a social experiment, as while King’s books were released to massive fanfare, Bachman’s books were under the radar, but did manage to develop a cult following it seems, before King was outed around the publication of the book Thinner, originally published under Bachman’s name.  King has since written about his experience of being Bachman, and has even resurrected the pseudonym in two subsequent publications, The Regulators and Blaze.  But this article will focus on what is essentially considered the core The Bachman books, which were collected for a time under the title of the same name.

It must be mentioned at this time that these are quite different from what King himself would publish.  All three books feature dark and troubled protagonists, and while King’s work does have the silken white thread of hope interwoven throughout the narrative, Bachman’s have the midnight colored ribbon of impending doom and despair woven into its work.  To be a protagonist in a King novel means that you have a greater purpose in store for you, one in which you may ultimately survive and be changed for the better because of it.  To be a protagonist in a Bachman novel means that you are ultimately fucked from the start.
So on that note, onto the books, after the jump.

Happy Hour: The Brown Paper Bag Edition

Happy Hour!

I'm a bit of a beer afficinado, so I figured I would dedicate a section to the various brews I experience in the comfort of my own home.  So, I'll be introducing the Happy Hour tag, to detail my thoughts on beer, and the like.

But, for my first feature, I'll be delving into the world where people have experimented with, and possibly  done things that they are not proud of.  A world where people are looked at with scorn, with amusement, and a category that is typically classified as only fit for the homeless, or drifters.

The world of Malt Liquor.

Accounted here are various assortments of the different types of malt beer I have experienced, and my thoughts after experiencing them.  Usually, it's terrible.  Enjoy my horror.

Colt .45

Made By:   Pabst Brewing Company

The iconic Colt .45, which begins this list, actually has had a pretty good run, as it’s over 40 years old and carries a cult like following that cannot be shaken, kinda like The Grateful Dead, only less relevant.  I first encountered this bit of bad news at my cousin’s bachelor party, where the best man unveiled this little beast in a paper bag.  It got passed around like Kim Kardashian, where we all got to “enjoy” this bottle.  It’s pale yellow, it’s got a taste that will make you grimace worse than Clint Eastwood, and the aftertaste stays with you for a while.  It’s also fairly potent, but that’s really the whole point of this cheap crap, to get you blitzed on the contents of your change tray.  Never experienced it again, though countless other people evidently have to ensure that this brand stays alive, along with Billy Dee Williams’ relevance outside of Star Wars.

King Cobra

Made By:  Anheuser-Busch, Inc.

Funny story involving this hooch.  One night, before seeing Spider-man 2, a friend and I had the genius idea of going to the nearest Albertson's and buying whatever we could as a pre-game, with what we had in the ashtray and our pockets.  We had a little over two dollars.  And we found this.  

We probably should have known something bad was going to happen when the clerk offered us a paper bag to drink this stuff in.  But, we didn't pay the man any heed.  We popped it open, split it between us, and waited to see what happened.  Wackiness ensued, mostly involving air hockey.

This isn't too nasty tasting, but it does have a horrific after taste, and your breath will smell to high heaven afterward.  It's also the most filling and potent of the stuff on this list, so if you're going this route, share with a friend.

High Gravity

Made By:  Anheuser-Busch, Inc.

Ah, yes, High Gravity.  Made by the Anheuser Busch company, this is quite simply one of the foulest things I have ever had the misfortune of trying.  And I didn’t even buy this.  A good friend of mine, who goes by the alias Quentin Connors on Facebook, brought over some tall boys of this swill one Friday night.  It’s the traditional golden color of the horrors to come when you drink this cheap shit, and smells like rejection if it could be distilled.  It tastes like death, with an aftertaste of pestilence and it’s potent as all hell.  You will not be in any condition for productive behavior the next day.  If it’s any comfort to you, the cartoon Squidbillies and Tim and Eric’s Awesome Show will actually be watchable.

Steel Reserve

Made By:  Steel Brewing Company

Steel Reserve is not to be taken lightly.  It’s quite dangerous, as one tallboy will leave you buzzing like there’s no tomorrow.  Two tallboys will cause a Back To The Future event, where two sonic booms and an instant flash of light later, you’ll be wondering what happened to the past twelve hours.  In terms of taste, it’s actually not that bad, though you do have that nifty (and by nifty I mean horrid) aftertaste in your mouth long after the tallboy ends.  Still, this shit isn’t too bad.  It’s still swill, it still tastes skunky, but it doesn’t nearly carry the stigma and shame of spending the evening with it as many of the other beverages on this list carry.  It’s basically Ke$ha in a can.

Sapporo Reserve

Made By:  Sapporo Brewery

The most recent of the list, Sapporo Reserve was bought by accident, as was purchasing some of the wonderful Sierra Nevada Porter, when I saw this golden can.  I thought, "Hey, I do like Sapporo, why not?"  And for three bucks, it didn't seem too bad.  It was only after I made the purchase and inspected the can at home that I discovered, what I actually had was the Japanese equivalent of a Steel Reserve.  I cracked this open on a Friday night, before settling down to a marathon of Doctor Who.
And actually, this is actually pretty good.  It does pour like a malt beer, but it's not heavy, nor does it have that skunky taste to it when you drink it.  It has very little after taste, nor does it smell.  Actually, it was quite refreshing.  It also does not pack the whallop that traditional cheap beer does, and actually leaves you feeling pretty nice, thought I would recommend that you take one and call it a night.

So, there you have it.  My list of cheap crap.  Hopefully, you all have a lot more class, and avoid experimenting too much from the stuff in this list.  Though if you do, please follow the guide with care.

Why All The Hate For Lana Del Rey

Why All The Hate For Lana Del Rey?

I'm an indie music fan.  Love to hear new and original stuff, dedicated to the SiriusXM channel on satellite, and surf several music blogs that are out there.  And, as a result, I've developed quite the taste for underground, off the radar, or proudly eclectic music.

I've also found out that, when it comes to indie music, the hate can be pretty bad.  Case in point, the dislike that is rained upon Lana Del Rey.

Hat Tip To Black Neon For The Image

It seems like, unlike most artists, who seem to have an even distribution of the spectrum, for Del Rey, it's either abject adoration or abject hate.  And it seems to me that the haters have by and large gained a more public following after Del Rey's poor performance on Saturday Night Live, which was exacerbated by Brian Williams' leaked email, calling her the worst performer on the show's history.

I’ll grant you this, her SNL performance was not her best.  I would also argue that, with her really only having a pair of indie hit singles, with a third just starting to take hold, SNL really had no business booking her for such a high profile gig at this point in her career.  Combined with Del Rey’s own issues with Stage Anxiety, and the performance was bound to be a disaster.  Granted, a performer should be ready to perform at a moment’s notice, as a female companion of mine would say.  I would also argue that her booking agent should have also known better, with those factors in mind.

Some websites argue that Del Rey’s music isn’t all that different or sophisticated., that it’s merely, quaint.  There are some Cat Power elements to her music, and that is both used as a compliment and an insult to Del Rey by her supports and critics.  While there are elements of what influences of what a person has used for inspiration, any artist of substance will be unique and different (well, maybe not Justin Bieber).  Del Rey isn’t no exception.  The voice is unique and distinctive, dark and seductive.  And while the majority of the buzz is on her serious material, such as Born To Die, Blue Jeans, etc, she also has some wonderfully fun and catching tunes that you can hear.  Diet Mountain Dew and Kinda Out Of Luck are nifty little tunes that are worth your time if you can find some MP3’s of her singles on the Web.

To be honest, I wonder how much of the Lana Hate actually comes from the fact that she is, to be blunt, beautiful.  Many of the indie bloggers dislike Del Ray’s rather glamorous mainstream appeal (most notably Carles from the blog Hipster Runoff), and also take subtle jabs at the fact that she may have gotten some work done.  There are some very lovely indie music female artists out there, all of whom have features that make them attractive in their own unique ways.  However, what Del Rey does have is that sort of classic, Hollywood, mainstream appeal that normally isn’t found too often in the indie music world.  I guess what I’m trying to get at is, I feel a great many people feel that Del Rey is only using the indie music scene as a way to get her name out there, to build a following.  Once she arrives, and establishes herself, the fear may be that she will leave that following behind forever.

Music is an awfully subjective subject in itself.  What someone will find as an exceptionally poetic and deep song, others will find it to be nothing more than loud, inaudible noise that blares through their radio.  I love the Decemberists for their folksy old school sound, and deeply poetic and literate lyrics.  Others will dismiss it as indie crap.  I dismiss most country, in particular the song “Red Solo Cup”.  Others will argue its innocent fun.  What one person digs will not necessarily get someone else’s juices flowing.  It really all depends on what your own POV and tastes are.

In the case of Lana Del Rey and really all music in general, is that you have to ask yourself the following questions.  Does the song please you?  Can you dig it, enjoy it, picture it as a part of the soundtrack of your life?  Can it console you in your darkest times, tap into your creative energy to produce something you never thought you could do?  Can it make the ride home from work, or set the scene for a night out with those that make your life worthwhile?  Can you picture the song echoing in your head as you gaze into someone’s eyes and into their soul?  Can the song, once it plays, cause memories to hit you with the force of thunderbolt, as all those glorious feelings that make us human, both good and bad, surge through your body?

In my case, yes, Lana Del Rey can do that.  Give her a try, before you hate, and see if she does the same thing to you.  Critics be damned.