Max Reads!

Max Zing, of the eponymous comic strip, reading Galactic Politics 101 while being threatened by Cycloptoyeti. Curse those crazy Cycloptoyeti!

Always coveting books on Galactic Politics.

Granted, it's a pretty interesting read.

So I am not without empathy.

W.R.A.I.T.H.

VON BLOFF

Welcome, gentlemen, to W.R.A.I.T.H. Our mission…

DELIVERY GUY

Dominos! You, lessee, Mr. Von Blof?

VON BLOFF

You aren't allowed in here. This is a top secret organization, dedicated to terror, extortion, blackmail…

DELIVERY GUY

…and you owe $34.95.

VON BLOFF

$34.95? That's outrageous. 

DELIVERY GUY

No money, no pizza.

Von Bloff turns to his seated subordinates.

VON BLOFF

Gentlemen: which one of you is behind this juvenile little prank? 

Delivery Guy notices fish tank behind Von Bloff's chair.

DELIVERY GUY

Hey, is that a pufferfish ya got in there?

VON BLOFF

What? Ja, ja. An extremely rare breed: the leaping Tetradonitadae Malificus. One touch means death. In excruciating--

DELIVERY GUY

They're cute. I got four at home.

VON BLOFF

Preposterous. I paid ten thousand pounds each for these. Half the expedition died in the Amazon--

DELIVERY GUY

Dude, you wuz robbed. They had them on discount at Pet Value. Hey, there lil’ fella. Coochee coochee coo!

VON BLOFF

Wha-what are you doing? Don't touch them!

DELIVERY GUY

It’s okay. Only the spines are dangerous.

Delivery guy pulls out deadly fish and strokes it.

VON BLOFF

Put it back. Give me that fish!

Von Bloff grabs at fish.

DELIVERY GUY

Hey, watch it.

A spine pierces Von Bloff's finger.

VON BLOFF

Ow! Schiesse. You dumbkopf!

DELIVERY GUY

Oh, dude. You’re turning purple. 

VON BLOFF

The pain… is excruciating.

DELIVERY GUY

Man. I better call my wife, throw those fish out.

VON BLOFF

You… idiot. Unnnh!

DELIVERY GUY

Wait! Don’t die. You owe me thirty-five bucks!

VON BLOFF

Yes. Stiffing you shall be… my revenge…

Heist Skit

MARTY

Is this legal?

CECIL

Course it is. Now shut up.

MARTY

Why are we wearing masks then?

CECIL

I value my privacy. Hand me the blowtorch.

MARTY

You never told mom you owned a bank.

CECIL

I don’t talk to mom anymore.

MARTY

She always said you were a real loser.

CECIL

Uh huh.

MARTY

She said you’d never amount to anything.

CECIL

Take this. Lemme pull the bars off.

MARTY

She said you’d wind up being somebody’s bitch in prison.

CECIL

This is why I don’t talk to mom. Give me the code cracker. Box with all the buttons on it.

MARTY

OK. It’s her birthday next week.

CECIL

Here we go.

MARTY

Why don’t you have a key?

CECIL

Told you. I lost it.

MARTY

But…

CECIL

And i forgot the combination and passwords.

MARTY

That seems kinda irresponsible, Cecil.

CECIL

DO you have any idea how many passwords I have?

MARTY

I have two.

CECIL

Ha! More than that. Just a few more seconds.

MARTY

Three?

CECIL

97. Yes! Gimme a hand. Push.

MARTY

Wow. This is a really big vault.

CECIL

Start filling your bags. Put’em on the cart, yeah? 

MARTY

Look at all the money and gold an’ shiny stuff.

CECIL

Less gawking, more stuffing.

MARTY

Can I give this gold watch to mom?

CECIL

No. No gifts for mom!

MARTY

She likes watches.

CECI

So? She never got me anything for my birthday.

MARTY

She got you socks.

CECIL

Socks don’t count. 

MARTY

We should get her something.

CECIL

No. Okay. Fine. You wanna give her something? She can have the damn blowtorch.

MARTY

Aw, c’mon, Cecil. You know they won’t let her have a blowtorch in prison.

The brand new iCar!

I wrote this little skit before I heard that Apple really IS developing a car. So hard to do satire.

INT. APPLE CAR DEALERSHIP

A SALESGUY meets TED, an eager customer.

SALESGUY

Come on into the show room, Ted. Ready?

TED

Am I!

SALESGUY

Here it is: The iCar! Apple’s first automobile.

TED

Wow! Sleek! Very cool.

SALESGUY

Six years in development. Focused on the customer experience every step of the way. Go on. Touch it.

TED

It’s… like touching air.

SALESGUY

Frictionless surface. Designed to cut through air like a shark slices through water… Self-cleaning surfaces. Adaptive all-weather tires. It can hit 300 KPH in sixty seconds and runs on salt water. Want to take it for a spin?

TED

Yeah! Uh… where… where’s the door handle?

SALESGUY

I know, right? Removed those unsightly things. Door’s hydraulic.

TED

Where’s the release?

SALESGUY

That’s the best part. You’ll never guess!

TED

I give.

SALESGUY

Under the car!

Ted gets on his hands and knees and looks under car. Reaches. 

SALESGUY (CONT’D)

Reach… no, further under. If you get on your back, you can… stretch. Up more. There! You got it. Hop in.

TED

Did the seat just shift?

SALESGUY

Smart materials. Press the start button.

TED

So quiet! Can hardly hear the engine. And the dash… so minimal.

SALESGUY

Embedded digital displays. 

TED

Radio? CD Player?

SALESGUY

Better: it has the complete U2 collection. And auto downloads all their new songs. For free.

TED

But I hate U2.

SALESGUY

No, you don’t.

TED

Yes. I do.

SALESGUY

I don’t think so. Move your arms.

TED

I can’t! 

SALESGUY

Pull hard. It’s Ultra Grip Velcro. No more sloppy seat belts.

TED

Hey… there’s only one pedal…

SALESGUY

Streamlined design. Tap once for gas, twice for brakes.

TED

There’s no speedometer!

SALESGUY

Ted, if you’re going too fast, the police will tell you. That’s what they’re for. 

TED

I guess… I…

SALESGUY

Which reminds me. You’ll need to upgrade your license.

TED

What? Why?

SALESGUY

Evolution of driving. You don’t want to fall behind, like the dinosaurs and the baby boomers, do you?

TED

No. God no. Of course not.

SALESGUY

Great! We’ll be updating the interface every six months. Here’s a brochure.

TED

Thanks.

SALESGUY

Think of it, Ted: you’ll be the envy of all your neighbours. And let me tell you, Ted: the ladies LOVE this car.

TED

Yeah… Aw, heck, I’ll take it!

SALESGUY

Perfect. Sign this User Agreement form and I’ll get the billing going… What are you doing?

TED

Reading it.

SALESGUY

Don’t bother. We reserve the right to update the terms retroactively at any time without informing you.

TED

Oh. I see.

(signs)

SALESGUY

Congratulations! You are the proud owner of a brand new iCAR!

TED

Yes! Comes with Apple Care, right?

SALESGUY

Absolutely Ted. You’re covered until the iCAR II comes out. We only keep parts for current products, you understand.

TED

Oh. When’s the next model coming out?

SALESGUY

(checks watch)

Wednesday. You passed the line up for it when you came in.

Spectrum 22 Awards: Silver/Gold Nomination

A poster for the Rebel Angels comic has been nominated for a silver/gold award at this year's Spectrum Awards. This is a mucho big honour.

I mean, like, uh, wow.

Check out all the nominees.

Review: Only Lovers Left Alive

A plotless drama that focuses on characters but doesn't include any not made of cardboard, Only Lovers Left Alive is one of the most excruciatingly painful cinematic experiences ever created. 

An assault on consciousness itself, it manages to feel like a ten hour plane flight in only two hours and three minutes. 

Presumably written over a drug and alcohol fueled evening by two narcissistic goths who imagine themselves to be real vampires (OMG), it's pretentious beyond comprehension, filled with pointless references, limp humour and events that lead absolutely nowhere. 

It's pure anti-drama.

Now, that may be your cup of tea, in which case this film is for you. Critics, for example, love it. Audiences love it. Indeed, Only Lovers Left Alive sits at 87% on Rotten Tomatoes. That's an impressive achievement.

Me? I wanted to chew my right leg off.

I'm here to offer a contrarian view, as I disliked this film more than anything since the unendurably tedious Cosmopolis. This may be the only negative review of this picture in existence, and I only offer my views to offer succor to those whose consciousness was mauled by this cinematic abomination: You are not alone. Indeed, I feel your pain. We are the true outliers. People who do not fit in with the beguiled zombie masses.

In the film, Tom Hiddleston plays Adam, a droll, suicidal vampire musician who likes guitars. That's it. That's the totality of his character. His even more uninteresting wife, Eve, is played by Tilda Swinton. Her sole saving grace is that she's played by Tilda Swinton, who's totally awesome. But she's given less than nothing to work with. 

Adam lives in the ruins of Detroit, while Eve resides in Tangiers for some reason. She hangs out with Christopher Marlowe, played by the wonderful John Hurt. It's like casting a god to play an ant. Sensing that Adam is feeling glum, Eve sets off (on a night flight, naturally) to rescue her lover's waning spirit. 

In the meantime, Adam visits Dr. Watson at a local hospital, from whom he illegally buys blood. The scene sits on the cusp of wit, but never quite reaches it. The director's restraint is perplexing. He seems to be deliberately avoiding anything that could be construed as entertaining.

After Eve arrives, so does her party hearty sister, Ava. They visit a local dive bar accompanied by Adam's Renfield, Ian, a musician. He borders on likable. Their bar foray leads to the one real incident in the film, which occurs at least half-way through. 

Long, boring scene follows long, boring scene. Tedious reference is piled upon tedious reference. Latin names are invoked. Humour could have floated the whole enterprise, but it is barely present. 

There are some interesting ideas here. Vampirism as addiction, for example. But nothing is done with the idea. 

If I'd had a cross at the screening, I would have stood up and tried to send this film back to the depths of hell from whence it came.

Sorry, cool kids. It was just not my cup of tea.