Reviews of the Ignorant: Deluxe Omnibus Collection

So as I sat, tears streaming down my face when, despite the amazing porn posting yesterday in a cheap and ridiculous attempt to drive traffic to my blog, I noticed that I had had two page impressions, which would include me yesterday, when I posted the "Eyes Wide Shut" review, and then me today, right now. I began to conclude that the world, or at least the World Wide Web, may not be ready for an idea as important as reviews of movies you have never seen. Maybe I really am the crazy grocery cart woman of the Internets, pushing my junk filled blog around the dirty corners of the Web and talking to myself in non sequiters that no one can or wants to understand. And, every once in a while, someone happens upon my lonely existence and tosses me a quarter out of pity, but, over all, no one wants me or my creaky-wheeled postings, and no one really notices when I fall asleep one day in a drunken stupor and roll over on my own blog, causing the both of us to tumble unconscious into the duck pond, where I get dysentery from the filthy, vermin infested water and my blog just grows rusty and neglected.

"That's why no one wants to read your junk," my wife suddenly interjects, always one for constructive criticism.

"Because I don't have enough pornographic keywords?" I ask. "Or because my blog and I are laying in the duck pond?"

"No, although that metaphor is both disgusting and sad. Seriously, though, why would anyone read the novel when they want to see the movie?"

I frown so hard the sides of my mouth hit my shoulder blades. "What do you mean?"

"Your posts," she spits, as if just saying the words leaves a nasty taste in her mouth. "They are 60,000 words long, and they go on and on in blurry column after blurry column. Who would want to read that?"

"Ho, no, no!" I exclaim exlamatorily, "You under-estimate the intelligence of the virtual community! This is a high-class, technologically advanced group of people here! They are looking for in-depth, witty yet profound criticism."

She spits again, maybe having a saliva problem. "Technologically advanced? George Bush has a website, you know. And high-class? The top searches on Yahoo right now are 'Paris Hilton Naked', 'WWE', 'Britney Spears Naked', 'Transformers', and 'Avril Lavigne Naked", That there's some culture, lemme tell you."

"But-" I stammered as only people do in poorly written dialogue. "But-but-"

"You do have a large but to overcome, I know," says my wife. "But let me suggest something. Stop posting 96 theses and comprehensive manifestos of ignorant reviews. It's like Schoedenhaur noted in his critical thinking essay, "Cultural Manifestations of Dynamic Tension Learning", when the ad-ition of psycho-analytical metamorphoses leads to "abiotic synthesis", the mind of the higher digresses to the base, and the "watched kettle" becomes a dichotic praxis of proto-viable pedagogy. Know what I mean?"

I blinked, shaking my head. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear a word you said. I was busy daydreaming of Jennifer Connelly in a white tank-top"

The stinging slap of justice burned my cheek like a kiss from an angry buffalo. "Ow!" I whined like a little girl, "Whadda you gotta do that for!"

"Your damn posts are too long!"

"Well, I am rubber and you are glue and whatever you say about my blog bounces off my blog and the computer monitor and sticks to you, because it misses me!" I waved my hands like a mental patient. "Get outta here! You don't know anything about blogs and skillful writing! Move on! Go clean the house and do your hair and whatever!" And I sat patiently, waiting for her to remove her presence.

There. She's gone. Ok, now that it's just you, me, and everyone in the whole wide world, let me suggest something. Knowing that most people on the Internets have the attention span of a squirrel with ADD, I have independently of any outside influences come to the conclusion that my last few posts have been too long. Therefore, tonight, please join me for an exciting experiment. I will continue in reviewing films that I have never seen, but I am going to limit the reviews to the basic information you will require to understand the films and my ignorant opinions of them. You may want to get ready to print this, because, I'm warning you, it will go fast. But I am not the one to insult the intelligence of my constant readers, especially since I am my only constant reader, so, while keeping the reviews to the barest minimum needed for creative criticism, I am going to provide you with not one, not two, not eight, but ELEVEN reviews, all in this one posting. Hopefully, by mimicking the rapid fire stimulation of modern media, I will capture both the hearts and the minds of passing Internet travelers, while providing an valuable community service-

("And not putting people to sleep!" my wife yelled from the kitchen.)

("Shaddup!" I yelled back.)

-in offering for your reviewing pleasure a collection of eleven classic reviews. Without further ado, because it stinks enough in here already, I offer you a first: The Reviews of the Ignorant Deluxe Omnibus Treasury. Pay close attention, and keep your hands and arms inside the blog until it comes to a complete and final stop. Things are gonna get pretty fast in here.

("Thank God!")

("I said 'Shaddup'!")

1. Music and Lyrics

Sucks

My Rating: 0 Stars


2. Georgia Rule

Also sucks

My Rating: 0 Stars


3. The Wind that Shakes the Barley

Royally sucks. I mean, read that title again. Do you want to see that? Do you even want to read the title again?

My Rating: 0 Stars


4. Factory Girl

Horribly, terribly, nightmarishly suck-a-licious. And, despite the fact that she seems to want to take off her clothes in various public places, a trait I normally approve of, Sienna Miller isn't that cute. Jude Law cheated on her with a fat nanny. That outta tell you something.

My Rating: 0 Stars


5. Hannibal Rising

See how much the above four films suck? Multiply that by twenty, divide by desecrated memories of better films, add a few "blows monkey dongs" and "god-awful"s, and that is how much this sucks. If you do the math, that equals super-sucks with a cherry on top.

My Rating: 0 Stars


6. Number 23

Sucks. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks.

My Rating: 23 Stars x 0 Stars STILL = 0 Stars


7. Alpha Dog

Justin Timberlake. 'Nuff said. Sucks

My Rating: 0 Stars


8. Catch and Release

How about we just release? Really, now, if you love something, set it free. So go free, little film, and never come this way again. Su-u-u-u-u-u-ucks.

My Rating: 0 Stars


9. Arthur and the Invisibles

Wasn't this a pre-fab sixties head band that sang "Winchester Cathedral"? Whatever. I just read that this was one of the highest grossing films every in Europe. Which can only mean one thing: Sucks.

My Rating: 0 Stars (counting the invisible ones)


10. Van Wilder 2: The Rise of Taj

What? What?!!!! Did someone ask for this?????!!!!! I can't even comment on this, or even ever think of it ever again. Whoever greenlighted this should be made should be shot into space instantly, before I am done typing this sentence.

My Rating: 0,000,000,000,000,000 stars


11. The Good German & The Good Shepard

I don't know if these are the same movie or not, and I don't know if they are about a dog or not, but I've grouped them here together because of the thing they share: Sucking!!! So, in case these are not the same movie, I apologize for destroying the integrity of the eleven promised reviews and hope you will be able to trust me again as we continue to build our relationship. If they are the same, then I have one thing to say: Sucks! If they are not the same, then I have two things to say: Sucks and Sucks!

My Rating: 0 stars, or, possibly, 0 and 0 stars


Whoo! That wore me out! Can't...catch...my...breath... That does it, though, for all you 'instant gratification' channel-surfing Internet zombies; eleven concise yet informative reviews. Now, you'll have to excuse me while I go lay down and go into congestive heart failure.


Clarification: It has been mentioned from the previous review that I seemed to imply that Tom Cruise was of a same-sex orientation. If any litigious types are reading, please make note: that could not be further from the truth, and I hope that that type of slanderous accusation was not inferred. Not that there is anything wrong with that. Being gay. I mean, I'm not. But there's nothing wrong if you're like that. I have a lot of friends that I frequently accuse of being gay. But not me. Nope. I'm 110% man. Me, I sure am not gay. But some people are, and that's ok. Just not me. I'm a happy hetero. So not gay. In fact, I'm so not gay I'm gonna take my penis out now and talk to it. And dress it up. And put mascara on it. And practice braiding hair. Wait. No I'm not. That's not what I'm going to do at all. I mean, not that there is anything wrong if someone wants to do that. But I'm not. I mean, I might take my penis out, but I'm not going to do all those other things. Not to accuse you of being gay if you do that, of course, but there is nothing wrong with that. Being gay, that is. Or doing that stuff to your penis. It's just not for me. I mean, I like to take my penis out as much as the next non-gay person, but that other stuff? Pffft! No way. I just take it out. And, uh, show it to people. Like women. But not men. Never. Not that there is anything wrong with that.

Anyhow, the previous review was not meant to cast dispersion on the sexual preferences of Tom Cruise. It was only meant to imply that he was as sexual as a Ken doll, with a rounded lump where his genitalia should be.

Wait, no it wasn't. I need to go now. My brain tumor is acting up.