Bat-lash (SPOILER WARNING!)

A lot of people have been asking me my opinions on the Bat-picture that debuted last night, and I couldn't be more pleased. I've been a fan of the Caped Crusader since the old Animated Series (I still have all the episodes on DVD) and suffice it to say, this is the best Batman movie since Mask of the Phantasm. Hell, it's probably the best picture I've seen all year (and yes, that does include Kung Fu Panda). Anyone else who caught a midnight screening last night can probably tell you that the flick is an emotionally exhausting experience. It's barely a comic-book movie, to the point where even the typical Batman villains are frighteningly realistic. Heath Ledger proves resolutely that he is an American acting legend, and whether it's the content of the movie or his tragic fate that affects you most, the blend between the two makes for some grueling entertainment. Don't let those shitty Domino's ads fool you-- this is not a typical summer movie. It pushes you to horrific extremes and successfully evokes jaw-dropping reactions that were previously unthinkable in superhero cinema. Namely, you won't see Bruce Wayne going emo and dancing around a barroom. I was going to write something up about Hellboy II: The Golden Army yesterday afternoon, as a way of suppressing my excitement for The Dark Knight, but to be honest I couldn't focus. After seeing the movie, I can tell you that Hellboy takes the cake for cool CGI-effects, but the Dark Knight pointedly refuses to rely on them, sculpting the hideous reality of a decrepit Gotham city from practical effects and the Chicago skyline. It's even hard to compare the two movies; Hellboy II's jokeyness puts it in another category entirely, making it more akin to superhero parodies like Mystery Men than The Dark Knight. That's not to say that Hellboy II doesn't have its moments of shining brilliance. Somewhere around the middle, the movie hits a really wonderful stride, nailing down the blend of character and spectacle that made big-budget successes like Ghostbusters and Men in Black really work. But when it comes to entertainment that transcends popcorn-munching fluff, look no further than the Dark Knight. I'm not saying don't see Hellboy. But if you're going to see two movies sometime soon, I'd say you might as well just see The Dark Knight twice. Hell, I'll be going for round two sometime this weekend (even if it means I have to sit through that Mummy preview for the fiftieth time.)
I'd like to share with you a conversation about The Dark Knight that my friend Steve and I had last night, immediately following the midnight screening. Two warnings: Steve and I are both hardcore Batman fans, so the discussion will be decidedly nitpicky. Also, I recommend you see the movie before you read the following transcript, because we do reveal a lot of SPOILERS, and you'll just enjoy the movie more if you go in not knowing what to really expect.
For everybody else, here's some geeky discussion at its finest:

M: good deal
S: It's better than BEGINS.
S: But it still has a few stupid problems.
S: The only time Nolan seems to care he's making a comic book movie is when he needs a quick plot device.
S: Other than that, he's all "I'm making a MOVIE!"
M: yeah, there was nothing comic booky about it
S: Which I like.
M: in terms of two-face / joker, it works
S: With the exception of the weird sonar thing.
M: but whenever batman's on screen, it's less sensical
M: right
M: batman is the most ridiculous part of his own movie
S: Completely
M: even bruce wayne playing bruce wayne as a cartoon is more realistic
M: but I can't fault that
M: it's just sad that Batman doesn't get to have a character plot in a movie mostly about Harvey and the Joker
M: but what a movie about Harvey and the Joker
S: Oh, seriously.
S: It was a bummer they killed Harvey.
S: Because like... he had a point.
S: He wasn't a SPIDER-MAN 3/Venom kind of deal.
S: It was, for all intents and purposes, his movie.
M: I don't know if he's really dead
S: I really wish that awesome shot of the Joker walking out of the hospital had been one long shot.
M: it was implied
S: It's split up with a cut.
M: but it's also implied that the Joker lived
M: and we all know that ain't happenin'
S: Oldman thinks they'll recast.
S: The Gordon fake out was weird and sort of pointless.
M: I liked it, only because it paved the way for the Rachel death to have real impact
M: I was actually most shocked that neither boat exploded
S: Yeah, I think so, too.
M: and any more time spent with Oldman is good
S: I understand that for the thesis of the movie to work neither boat could explode.
M: I don't know
S: But in real life it would have been about ten seconds before each boat killed each other.
M: if they wanted to make it real dark
M: they could have made the civilian boat kill the crooks
M: that would have ruled
S: Deebo from FRIDAY saves the day!
M: because then the Joker is even more a madman
M: like, I was shocked that the Joker turned out to be so impotent so quickly
M: because if he really is a force of chaos, which they establish very well, then he needs even more
S: Yeah, it really seemed like a product of "Well, the movie is almost over, so... it's over!"
M: but then I guess the ending wouldn't work
M: I like the set-up
S: Yeah, totally.
M: Batman is back to fugitive
S: My second favorite bit in MASK OF THE PHANTASM is all the "the police against Batman" stuff.
S: I've always liked when that happens.
S: Not just like "We think you blow!"
M: right, exactly
S: But hardcore, him vs. them
M: I think Nolan writes Batman himself into something of a corner
M: because we're taught to think Bruce Wayne is not Batman
M: and we spend so little time with Batman himself that it's hard to discern what his actual ethos is
M: Batman never has to deal with the emotional repercussions of letting those people die
M: and he does seem kind of pleased that Harvey takes the fall in the middle
S: Yeah, totally.
M: he's a detective, but we have no insight into his deductive abilities
S: Well, we kinda do.
M: it seems like everybody in the city is as great at deducing as he is
S: Well, we have insight into how much money he has.
S: Which is getting there, I suppose.
S: With his "Fire a bunch of bullets, figure out how to put the shells back together to get the fingerprint" thing.
S: But it seems like it was pretty straightforward.
M: that's true, it's cool
S: He just needed the cash to be able to buy that stuff, which he had.
M: I fucking loved Heath
M: god damn
M: he was so funny
M: the pencil thing was hysterical
S: Oh God yes
S: The movie is *insanely* not kid friendly.
S: When it's a movie movie, it'll bore them.
M: I mean, he did a Joker as great and memorable as Nicholson's with the depth of the comics and cartoons
S: And when the comic book stuff shows up, it'll scar them emotionally
M: oh my fucking god
M: they teach you to fear violence in this movie, alright
M: you get so squeamish that when you finally see Bad Harv's face...it hurts
S: Seriously.
S: I haven't been this pensive during a movie in awhile.
S: Whenever Joker was on screen, it was like "someone is getting hurt, and I'm afraid."
S: I liked his "theme"
S: Even if it was very, very Johnny Greenwood/THERE WILL BE BLOOD.
S: But from what I understand, they had that written way before they ever could have saw that movie.
S: So I guess it's just great minds think alike.
M: the scoring was occasionally interesting, mostly non-existant
S: Yeah, overall, I was underwhelmed.
S: During the time of BEGINS, they said they had written a theme for Batman that they didn't use because he hadn't "earned it" yet.
M: there was nothing as delightful as the Joker cartoon theme from B:TAS
S: And it still didn't make an appearance in this one.
M: hahahaha
M: yeah, I mean he kind of earns it with that China drop
M: but like, all we need him to do is leap and swoop
not punch fuckers
M: I don't need to see that
M: I want him to be chaos too
S: There is one Joker moment I *loved*
S: When he's talking to that Batman impersonator, and he's all Jokery and he's like "Look at me! Look at me!"
S: And then he let's LOOSE
S: And roars "LOOK AT ME."
M: I know, it was great to see him have fun
M: and when he talks to Batman like they're friends
M: that's when I love it
M: and the whole Joker loves Batman
M: "I'm just a dog chasing after cars"
S: Yeah, it really truly is affectionate.
M: classic
M: perfect
S: I was a little bummed the Scarecrow was underused.
M: but on a similar note, nix the whole "HARV IS THE HERO, THE FACE OF GOTHAM"
S: I mean, I understand the movie has a lot to do and that's right at the beginning.
M: yeah, in the long run, give him one fun thing to do
M: show us one more clip of scarecrow vision at least
S: But Cillian Murphy has one line onscreen
S: And it's a doctor pun.
M: hahaha, I know, what a jip
S: Or show us Joker in Scarecrow vision.
M: ohhhh shit
M: yeah
M: no, PENGUIN
M: no, wait
M: Joker
S: Haha
S: I didn't mind the whole "Harvey is the HERO" bit.
M: I liked it
M: until the end
M: when I couldn't even understand the fuck what Gordon was saying
S: Oh, gotcha
M: "Batman is the hero
M: I mean, he's not.
M: Look, kid, it doesn't matter."
S: It really is a lot to process, and he really talks in circles.
M: right, but ultimately, who the fuck cares
M: we know he's doing the right thing, regardless of how Gordon justifies it
M: he's fucking Batman
M: and since he has no emotional agency in the movie, it's apparent that his choices are always "correct"
S: Yeah
M: the only ones with criticism are his buddies
S: It is weird, now that I think about it, how little he has to "do"
M: your only insight into his character at all is really Alfred
S: Yeah
S: But even that doesn't hold true anymore.
M: and that's contrary too, because Alfred always chides him, but it never amounts to anything
S: In the first they set up that Alfred is like his ethical compass at times, when Alfred gives him shit
S: Yeah, absolutely
S: I was just going to say that
S: Alfred gives him shit about blowing so much up trying to save Rachel
S: And in this one, for even less of a reason, he blows up a ton of stuff and endangers a ton of people.
M: they even have that little moment that's a total microcosm of the relationship
M: where alfred's like
M: I won't say I told you so this time
M: but I told you so
M: well, fuck you alfred, I'm blaming the batman thing on you! tee hee!
M: so we're both impotent man children until one of us puts on a mask
S: I don't think Gordon, under any circumstances, would let his wife and kid think he was dead.
S: It'd be everyone but them.
S: And I was hoping that when he showed back up, it would lead to their divorce.
M: hahaha
M: he deserved the slap
M: but I think he was really pushed to the brink in this one
S: Yeah, totally.
M: it seemed very unfair to put them through that though
M: especially because they didn't apparently tell the girl she was even in the movie until the second to last scene
S: Yeah, totally.
S: It is weird though that everyone thought Gordon was dead, including the mayor, and he's been "alive" for like a half hour, tops, and the mayor is all "You're commissioner now! Huzzah!"
S: But overall, I like Gordon in this a ton.
S: He isn't reduced to comic relief like in BEGINS, which is always fun.
M: I liked that the mayor was the guy from Lost
M: yeah, but he was so good at that I didn't mind it then
S: Or, even better, Diefladermaus from THE TICK live action show
M: he's still my fave part of Begins
M: hahahah
S: Mine too
M: I liked Maggie Gyllenhall so much
S: Did it seem like he made little effort to hide his accent at times?
S: hahahahah YES
M: especially when yelling at Dent
S: In the first he gave Gordon a weird overly American accent at times.
S: And in this he was like "Ah, fuck it"
M: on that really awkward rooftop scene
S: Which again, I don't care, because he's so good.
M: where Bats is just like
M: HEY
M: GUYS
S: Yeah, totally
S: *gone*
M: GUY IN A GAY COSTUME HERE
M: LITTLE ATTENTION? AHEM
S: They cheat with "Batman being able to move anywhere silently" once in a way that bugs me
S: In the bank vault, it's fine.
S: In the interrogation room, it's fine.
S: Batman is like a wraith. You don't need to know how he does what he does, he just does.
S: EXCEPT.
S: When he's randomly at the party.
S: Standing in front of like, 1000 people, and nobody sees him show up.
S: If I were there, it'd be like "I don't care what crazy shit I'm already watching, Batman is fucking here now. Anybody else seeing this? No? WHY THE FUCK NOT?!"
M: hahahhah
M: I think the problem is that the suit looks so heavy that I can't buy it ever
M: it's always the problem
S: Yeah
M: I want like a cloth suit
S: I do like the progression of suits in this one.
M: because he looks just so damn bulky
S: "You know, it just occurred to me how big and stupid this suit is. I can't even move my fucking neck. Make me a new one."
M: hahahaha
M: what's weird is how quickly the Joker gives up his entire ethos
M: I appreciated it, because it was fascinating
M: but it was the first time I'd ever seen him focus more on philosophy than rash action
M: cool, to be sure
M: definitely legit in the universe
M: but it makes Batman seem all the more shallow
M: and the fact that we don't get a full transformation into some new creature with Two-Face just changes Dent from an empathetic hero into a really petty sonuvabitch
S: Yeah.
M: by which I mean, his face changes, but he's still Big Harv
S: He's basically already Two-Face before he gets scarred.
S: In that one scene.
M: right! but then that scene is sort of absolved when he reveals that the coin is always heads
M: he was just scaring the guy
M: so in a way, he is Batman
S: Yeah
M: which makes it even lamer
M: like the coin should be OCD
M: not silly
M: it sort of felt silly
S: At least it wasn't like in FOREVER.
M: like we're waiting for him to do it, so we can figure out who the writer wants to survive
S: Where he flips the coin like nine times to get the result he wants so he can shoot Bruce Wayne in the head.
M: hahahah
M: I mean, let's be honest, thank god nothing about two-face was like forever
S: He drinks from two champaign glasses at the SAME TIME!
M: although this movie could have used some Chris O' Donnell, flyin around quipping
S: Because he has TWO FACES!
S: I GET IT!
S: Yeah, the more I think about it, Batman is kind of the biggest plot device of them all in this one. Not even a mention of his parents, which is weird.
M: how about the Joker spilling the wine and drinking the empty glass
M: no wayne manor even
M: Batman is always out of his element
S: The Joker drinking from the empty glass was weird.
S: From what I heard about them filming that, 90% of that is improvised, so it was probably a mistake they ended up liking.
M: hahahah nice
M: I liked it
S: All that was on the page is that he was suppose to come out of the elevator and ask for Harvey. And they were like "GO."
M: because it seemed like he was trying to get a rise out of the audience
M: hahaha
S: And he came up and started slapping around extras and doing weird shit.
M: hahahaha
M: makes sense
M: he was increasingly more unstable from what I'm guessing
S: Yeah
M: I mean, if a role was going to kill him, it was this or Brothers Grimm
M: and really, more the final product than the role in Grimm
S: When we were by their set they had just filmed that scene like a few days prior, and that's all any crew members we talked too would talk about.
S: How crazy he was during that party scene.
S: And how they had to pay anyone he touched extra
S: Because they were all unspeaking extras, which is why they don't really react to him at all.
M: it looks like he is grabbing Maggie Gyllenhall's face pretty hard
S: And obviously, they didn't know he was going to smack them.
M: Yeah, totally
M: but you can tell she's totally into it
S: I *really* liked the choice to spin the camera around at the end to make him appear right side up to the audience's perspective
S: Hahaha
M: and is like, yah, yah, put the knife in my mouth
M: I could tell she was into kinky shit ever since she fucked will ferrell in stranger than fiction
M: if you ride the ferrell, you have to be ready to take a load from anyone
S: i thought you were going to say since SECRETARY
M: no, I find that normal
S: Hahaha
M: alright, I need sleep
M: good talking to you about it
S: Yeah, totally
S: Later dude

Anyone else think the only character to get a raw deal in this picture was Batman? He's supposed to be the World's Greatest Detective, but since Batman is a mask and Bruce Wayne is always mugging it's hard to get a sense of what his "rules" actually are. The Joker seems to know, but unless we're pulling everything from Begins (which seems to be a mistake, based on how much the dialog and depiction of Gotham changed without former screenwriter David Goyer's ham-hands getting in the way) then it's really easy to see Bats as a selfish, rich jerk who occasionally does the right thing and otherwise incurs a shit-ton of property damage. What do you guys think?

WRASSSSSLEEEEEPOCALYPSE!!!

That was last year. And it's only gotten better.

Tonight is your first chance to see a labor of love, the finest professional wrestling event to ever hit a college campus.

I'll be your host, DOUG THE SLUG ARMSTRONG, AND I'M READY TO CRACK OPEN A BEER, CHUG TIL I'M BLUE, AND PUKE TIL I'M SOBER AGAIN! YEEHAW!!!

If you missed the phenomenon last year, here's your chance. Tonight at Shanley Pavilion at 8 PM. Tomorrow (All Dillo's Eve) at 8 PM and 11 PM.

It's my last major show of college. Come see what local playwright Joel Sinensky calls, "Matt Shore at his best."

Pre-Sale Tickets are sold out. Show up at least an hour early.

It's a shitty day to be alive---BUT A GREAT DAY FOR WRESTLING!!!!

WRESTLEPOCALYPSE!!!

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

I used to watch the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles cartoon show all the time as a kid. I think the first movie I ever saw in theaters was the Ninja Turtles movie. I loved Ninja Turtles. I think it's probably why I've been so enamored with superhero stories ever since. I was raised watching these formulaic, goofball cartoons:



Actually, come to think of it, that was pretty awesome. Here's another one:



I started writing superhero stories, scripts really, around freshman year of high school. I developed a team of six superheroes, each based off one of my close friends, and wrote about their many adventures. It was a great experience, because my friends were so gung-ho about being included in the characters. We always planned to film them and play all the parts, but in a cool turn of events the director at my high school let me adapt a few of the scripts into a stageplay for performance at the end of my junior year. It was definitely one of the defining moments of my high school career, and taking a final bow to riotous applause in my high school theater, hand in hand with all my closest friends--that is a moment I will never forget.
Without shows like Ninja Turtles, I probably would have never figured out the conventions of modern superhero storytelling. I was never big on superhero comics (most of the major franchises had taken desperate darkened turns in the '90s) and it wasn't until Batman: The Animated Series that I really got involved in the gritty side of cartoon heroes. The best part about superhero storytelling is that it relies on a series of strict conventions, making it akin to and derivative of many great national mythologies. From biblical type stories to Greek myth and chivalric epics, some of the best stories of any generation have been founded in deeply historical archetypes. Even Shakespearean plays assume and parody writing conventions of the Bard's contemporaries and predecessors. Whether you like to admit it or not, adhering to and understanding strict structure in narrative can provide any writer with the basis for captivating storytelling, whether you choose to follow the conventions or not.
I love learning old structures because it gives me so many new styles and methods to affect in my stories. Being able to reference the greats and understand what made them work is an essential part of a writer's craft, because it shows respect for the history that birthed the writer. Works like James Joyce's Ulysses and Faulkner's As I Lay Dying couldn't be classics without their nods to novelistic convention, and their subsequent clever bucking of trends.
I want to do something new that's never been done before. And like the secret of every innovation, the answer lies buried in the past.

Deception!

So, I'm sitting in my Psych class on Deception, cleverly deceiving my prof into thinking I'm paying attention, and it got me to thinking. Turtles.
I tried to shake the feeling, but it wouldn't go. So instead of giving into impulse, I decided to lose myself in the delightful splendor of the YouTube generation. Here was my first discovery:



Ahh, deception at its finest! Guerilla comedy is springing up on a nation-wide level, and that means groups like Improv Everywhere and the fine people in the above clip are gaining momentum. I love the idea of spontaneous art and comedy appearing in the everyday world to give the mundane an unexpected burst of the surreal. My friend Britt likes it too, and so she's started a group on campus dedicated to making it happen around Chicagoland. If you're interested in getting involved, ask me about it or facebook Britt. I'm 100% on board with this kind of performance, as long as it doesn't end like this:



But I think it's safe to say that nobody wants real life to end up like an M. Night Shyamalan movie, all darkly boring until an unexpectedly twist that fails to legitimize anything that happened previously. This really stretches the Allan Kaprow's definition, but the amount of gore in this red-band trailer suggests that Shyamalan's latest effort might be decidedly less somniferous than his recent fair (especially the immeasurably boring Lady in the Water). I'm all for horrifying things like I've never seen before, just as long as they adhere to a certain code of ethics. I don't want to be squirming uncomfortably in my seat Butterfly Effect-style as every possible disturbing image in the universe is shoved down my throat (after a certain point, that movie could be considered abused, and I just sat through all of Batman & Robin so believe me, I KNOW abuse). Reminder: Britt is a sweet kind nice individual, so if you allude to anything in the previous film trailer, you'll be putting her through her own personal Butterfly Effect. Talk about nice things, like dewdrops and capricorns! Then you'll be in like flynn! Ha-cha-cha!
Speaking of wildly disgusting things, I highly recommend you head over to the iTunes store and check out the Red-Band trailer for the latest Ben Stiller epic, TROPIC THUNDER. It's only available there, and it really pushes the boundaries of what's permissible in non-cartoon comedy. It kind of has a Ren & Stimpy sensibility about it, which I wholly appreciate. As long as the dialog is as strong as the sight-gags, we might have a winner on our hands, or at least a successor to the throne of Zoolander.
But back to deception, in a way I've been deceiving you and myself this whole time. There's only one thing on my mind right now. Turtles. I think I'll have to do some more research and get back to you.

Here's Hoping I Graduate!

Greetings friends. I received another e-mail today forwarded to me by my adviser about graduation. As it is the close of my senior year at this prestigious university, you can imagine the types of strong feelings that might be swelling around in my body. Nervousness, the feeling of anxiety associated with a fresh start, a complete cut-off from the people you've grown to know and love. Excitement, because of the endless possibilities that surround you as you enter the world as a full adult. Drunk, because it's noon somewhere.
But this letter wasn't about those natural feelings we all have. It was about: PANIC. And not the good kind of panic, like a Douglas Adams book, the bad kind of panic, like Panic at the Disco. In the past few weeks, the registrar let me know that they were having some issues with my petition to graduate. They sat me down in the office and slapped me across the face and said, YOU SHALL NOT PASS.
I took it as an insult. Surely Matt Shore, the single greatest comedic mind of our generation or any other (including Jewish and Canadian ones), the world's hero and our beloved successor to Christ, surely he, of all people, should be awarded not just a diploma, but a crown of golden thorns to signify his brilliant glistening martyrdom for our times! And his diploma should also be made of gold! And he should ride out on griffins, and drop thousand dollar watches to the crowd, and they're all saying, "ahhhhh ahhhhh matt-shore-is-great--ahhhh---ahhh"
But the registrar wouldn't listen to that kind of logic. They kept claiming I was missing two classes from my major. But I wasn't! I claimed, but I give them too much credit. In truth the registrar never grabbed me, never sat me down, because the registrar is not a people person. The Registrar is a cold corporate machine made to package students up and fire them out of a cannon into the sun. You know how they've got you and you don't even know it? They number you. 2338033. That's my student id number, and as I see it appear on every transcript or forwarded e-mail from these people more and more I realize it's the only way to keep track of me. The people in the registrar, aside from my wildcard photo (which if anyone's seen it, is NOT a good indication), have no idea who I am, how I look, what I did while I was here, what mattered to me, or where I'm going. Which means at some point along the way, the machine went from serving students to serving the machine, which we built a long time ago to serve the students. Not that I'm complaining or anything. 2338033. Come to think of it, it has a nice ring to it.
But the truth of the matters, and I use that term loosely always, but the real goddamn truth of the matter is this: my major--creative non-fiction--was invented the year I applied for the sequence. In fact, the reason it was created was because they saw the current programs as being insufficient to properly educate at my level. It's often a problem I have with professors--they fail to recognize that I'm smarter than them. I find it cute. So I always try to stroke my beard whenever I'm talking to a professor, that way they know I "really care." But I digress, the point being--the point at hand--is that somehow, despite my clear history of telling the truth at every and all intervals, I was called out on a bluff! But I was purely innocent! When they created the non-fiction program (to impress me) there were some snags along the way, specifically with CAESAR. The NU registration program is more a series of snags itself than a literal facilitator of class selection, so you can imagine how a fledgling program could fall out of the nest and plummet into the briars, its wings torn and broken by the fall.
Suffice it to say, they didn't count the classes I'd taken as classes that applied, but they all really did. Still it's a little bit LATE IN THE GAME to be learning this stuff, especially when it's all administrative and I've done my share in full!
Hmm, maybe the bureaucracy that keeps Northwestern alive is also the Akira-like monster destroying it from the inside!
If you want to watch Akira to draw the comparisons, I am so game.

Update: New Feature - I Hate My Childhood

**SKETCH-A-DAY UPDATE!** : The project is going really well. I'm averaging more than one sketch per day. I also decided that if I begin a sketch, and fail to finish it for the next day, on the following day I have to finish the unfinished sketch and write two more. This has only happened once so far, and the only thing missing from the unfinished sketch was some conclusive stage direction. Since I've also been writing more than one sketch on some days when I've been feeling extra ambitious, I feel pretty good about myself. The actual sketch-writing is getting easier. I feel like the trick is picking a central joke or relationship and riding it out just long enough that it doesn't feel redundant or unfinished. It's a tenuous and tricky process, but I think the best part of the whole enterprise so far is that I'll have so many sketches back-logged, that when I find a format for them, I'll have the distance necessary to make incredibly successful revisions. So far, so good.

Also, if you'd like to read any of them and give me notes, send me an e-mail. Recently I've written a few about Shakespeare, a few about my other classes, and a really bizarre one about a schizophrenic parrot. Some are written for stage, some are cartoons, some are films, and some are radio plays. I write in whichever style I feel will serve the jokes the best.

On the same train of thought, if you are looking for a sketch or comedic premise for a stage show, short film, or other project, I'd love to be of help. E-mail me (shorester@gmail.com) and we'll work out the details.


So, why do I hate my childhood? I recently found all my old Sega Saturn games and started playing through them. When I found the old game boxes, I was overjoyed. I fondly remembered the titles and cover art, forgetting completely the questionable quality of the games concealed beneath the casing. After ordering a Saturn AV cable on eBay and waiting a few weeks for it to arrive, I happily hooked up the Saturn to the big TV in my living room and fired up the game disc that had been sleeping inside it since its last usage, BUBBLE BOBBLE.

Don't get me wrong, this is a great game, a classic from the NES generation. But after a few minutes of gameplay, I realized that there wasn't much point in porting the game to a system vastly more powerful, especially since the game's graphics are craptastic at best, even with marginal Saturn updates. They tried to make the Saturn version more enticing by packaging it with Bubble Bobble's pseudo-sequel, Rainbow Islands, but if you play more than fifteen seconds of Rainbow Islands, you'll realize that this is more an insult to your intelligence than a selling point. In Bubble Bobble, you play as an adorable dragon who shoots bubbles to kill monsters. In Rainbow Islands, you play as an infant who craps rainbows. I'm all for gay rights, but even if I dragged my Saturn to Boystown I have a feeling the guys there would agree that the transition from Dragon to Human is never a satisfying one.

I'll go into more detail about this later. But something tells me my old Saturn 'classics' are not going to evoke fond memories.

New Caveat

Another new rule. If I design and organize a NURD Sketch Show-- That counts as a sketch.

Listen to the show, this Sunday at 6:00pm Central HERE.

This is a Test for My Job.

New Rules

I've added a couple caveats to the Sketch Writing challenge.

1.) Sketches cannot exceed ten pages in length.

2.) If I write a particularly bad sketch, I may be forced to write a second compensatory sketch, of equal or lesser badness.

3.) If I miss a day, I have to write five sketches the next day.

I think they'll make the challenge more fun. So far I haven't missed a day, and for the past two days, I've written two. You can say they might fall under caveat number two, but really, the challenge is enough fun that I don't mind it.

Brand New Project

Keep me on task with this one, guys.

Inspired by Suzan Lorie-Parks' 365 Days, 365 Plays, an occasionally interesting experiment in one-play-a-day playwriting, I have decided to submit myself to a similar challenge.

My goal, to write one sketch a day for the next year.

I started yesterday, late in the night. I really like writing sketch, so I think this could be very fun. Dialog comes naturally to me, and I want it to be part of the process that I don't worry about revision while writing. I just want to write them as quickly as possible, until I get to a point that feels conclusive. I'm trying to avoid planning out big punchlines and twists, letting the characters themselves guide where the dialog flows. When the characters run the narrative into trouble spots, that's when I institute major changes or wrap things up.

The first thing I've decided is that the sketches do not necessarily have to be funny. Hopefully, they will all have some element of the comedic in them, but I've found that forcing jokes can alienate the reader. I want them to be challenging and engaging, things I would like to read or direct. In that way, they are thematically and tonally similar to Lorie-Parks' works, but hopefully mine will be slightly less oblique and ethereal.

Then again, the one I wrote last night started really broad and jokey and ended tragically. It was about a dorky young kid coming of age, and ended with him beating his grandmother to death while his dad sat in the car with his dead mom's corpse.

So, it's highly experimental, is what I'm getting at. Even if they aren't completely finished, or completely valid, I hope they stumble across at least one interesting element each and explore it as far as the constraints will let them.

So yeah, if you see me, ask me how it's going. Friends inquiring is a great way of imposing non-literal deadlines on my deadline-desirous brain.

This is Why the Internet Exists

How am I supposed to concentrate on studying for an exam for Medieval History when the internet abounds with information? How am I supposed to focus whatsoever, when around every corner, morsels of knowledge are waiting like Pac-Man dots, waiting to be consumed?

Where else can I find a grown man dressed up like an eight-bit video game character in a lobby full of costumeless judges?



The original Mega Man looked like this:
















I'm not sure how this guy missed the point so fervently, but it's pretty evident based on the comparison.

But he's not the only one. Check it out.





























Why is this popular?

Why would anyone subject themselves to this sort of public humiliation?

Why am I not wearing one right now?

These are all important questions, but unfortunately, none of them will be on my final exam tomorrow.

E-mail me if you find evidence of any other people bastardizing your childhood.

See Jumper with Me.

I'm going to see Jumper before break ends, I swear to God. NO--put down that phone. Don't call anybody. This is going to happen. I'm going to walk up to the ticket counter, slap down my $50, and get one ticket to see the best movie about teleportation since X-Men 2: X-Men in Tights. I don't care about the repercussions. For all I know, as soon as my money leaves the Cinemark register two men in a big black van could be transporting it to a secret Hollywood fund that pays for Samuel L. Jackson's hairstyle budget.








































NONE of these are images from Jumper, and if that's not proof I haven't seen it, I don't know what is. All I know is that Sam Jackson is in Jumper, and he has a stick or some shit. I don't want to sound ignorant or racist, but you give that man a stick and he's going to go to town on someone like a crazy Injun. This is a man so tough he was famously eaten by a shark. He only dies in the coolest ways. If I remember correctly, Mace Windu was raped to death by wookies with awesome headbands. I was drunk and the image was so vivid I remember it perfectly. That's just how Coolio that this guy is. He's practically LL Cool J. Hell, I heard he has one son, and he named him Kool Cigarettes Jackson, and when someone was like, 'why did you name him that?' Sam Jackson farted, and the guy melted into bones.

















Huhn? Some white guy? OH. That reminds me, some white guy is also in this movie. That white guy up there, serves as a reminder of that fact. I'm pretty sure it's not that white guy...or even a white guy who looks like that guy...I mean, I doubt that douchebag up there has even been in any movies!...but on behalf of all white people everywhere, I would like to thank the filmmakers for going out of their way to put a white person to play opposite Sam Jackson in the film. Whites, as a people, realize that none of us are stronger than Sam Jackson, and that according to legend only a maiden pure of heart can cure his unstoppable rage and hair-do-suavery. But still, the filmmakers allow our proud people to stand near him and compare our ways to his, in the same way that the NBA has worked for years.

Why do I bring this up? To make a point. I don't give a shit about white people. And it seems like the only people who've been telling me not to see Jumper are WHITE PEOPLE. And maybe it's because I know mostly white people and haven't asked Muindi about it yet, but maybe MORE LIKELY it's because white people are fucking idiots. Need some examples?











































I rest my case. I could look up all the facts I need on IMDB to prove my points further, but I already know the story. Sam Jackson pushed his way into some film studio, slapped the script on the table and said, "I HAVE PENNED ANOTHER MASTERPIECE." The studio says, "you're too brilliant, Sammy! So brilliant, that we must keep it secret! Get another pseudonym for Mr. Jackson, before his incredible wit grows to fill this room and smother us all!"

The Oscars are hungry for Jumper. And so am I. Hungry like a white person with a taste for Applebees. I am seeing it on Wednesday, after class, when I am finished for the quarter. You are invited, if you are strong enough to stare into the face of Jackson and live. But something tells me that tells me that like a chicken, your skin is yellow. The worst color of all.

Essen Sie mit Herr Hair nicht!

I think this is pretty funny.

Funny enough to come out of blogging retirement anyway.

It's a tale as old as the restaurant industry. Some prick complains to the chef that his meal was improperly prepared, and the chef responds justly and proportionally by sticking some rank-ass shit in the customer's replacement meal. In this case the "foreign objects" are human hair from (hopefully) the chef's head.

To me, this is the essence of caveat emptor. If you're going to be a douchebag, chances are you're going to face your comeuppance sooner or later, and frankly you deserve it. Being pointlessly rude, especially to the wait-staff, is a complete waste of time. Waiters and waitresses do not make the food, and they are frequently the victim of kill-the-messenger style verbal mutilation. If you abuse your waitperson, chances are the anger you sent their way is going to mosey on back to the kitchen with your latest request, and they're either going to take it out on the chef or conspire to screw you over together. Restaurants, no matter how they may be presented at face value, are pretty raucous places when you get backstage. And the people in the industry tend to stick together. So watch yourself.

I'm not saying this to scare you, but I'm warning you that there are common methods for dealing with rude people, and this article, although crass, is a microcosm of most of them. The real problem here is not that the chef tampered with the customer's meal, but that he did it in so obvious and incriminating a way. Hairs are pretty easy to spot in a juicy steak, especially after it hits your lips. Had the chef simply, I don't know, rubbed the steak on his balls or dropped it on the floor a few times, this wouldn't be an issue. You'd be surprised how much 'special seasoning' can really improve a customer's meal. "Is that cilantro?" Yeah, you wish.

I don't think the chef should go to jail. I think he should be given a medal. And I think douchebaggery should be outlawed.

Brand New Phone Part Two

The shifts are long and tiring. Sometimes I fantasize about the Louvre. How bored are the guards there when they stare at Monet?

Brand New Phone

Greetings friends. I'm currently writing to you from the center of my own personal glass prison, the BLOCK MUSEUM. If you've ever visited the block museum (and trust me, you haven't) you'd recognize it immediately as the large prismic structure adjacent to Northwestern's student center (norris) and the concert hall (chuck norris). It is the largest glass structure on campus, making it the only building at Northwestern capable of housing Magneto. Right now I'm strolling the gallery, tapping away at my new Palm Treo, ignoring the guests as they meander their way through our current exhibit, the Exquisite Snake. Some would call this irresponsible, as I'm supposed to be guarding the artwork, but if anyone asks, I'm using my Oxygenator to test the air for carbon monoxide (thanks Tim).

The Exquisite Snake is composed of a bajillion 8x11 paper panels each painted upon by a different Chicago artist. The whole thing was done for a guy named Sid Block on his 80th birthday. Sid's a guy who's helped artists in the area for years, so I guess he deserves it. Some of the paintings are of Sid. Some of them are of snakes. Others are just plain bad. I guess that's what happens when you send a lot of random artists a blank piece of paper and tell them to make a birthday present. They're artists. Half of them are so tormented they probably never had birthdays.

The artists didn't know what anyone else was drawing. It was all a shot in the dark. That's why people spend so long looking, I think. They want to see who understood the snake before it had scales. Everyone hates the painting with asymmetric pink dots. I love the painting with asymmetric pink dots. The dots are jarring and loud and everyone hates them.

Sometimes the artists come in and I say "Hello, and which one is yours." I try to feign excitement in the bad ones. My favorite artists are the ones who hate their work. "I wish I'd knew what everyone else was doing," they'd say, and walk out slowly. "At least you get to leave," I'd think.

Silicone Valley of Darkness

This isn't really funny, however I find studies like this more and more perplexing. It seems in our more recent attempts to quantify and clarify social conundrums (probably exceedingly so in the wake of explosive tragedies like the VT incident) science-minded people are working around the clock to tell us things we already know.

Maybe the actual statistics are shocking to you, and you just needed someone in a seat of authority to help you process the information, but what this article is telling me is something that after-school movies have been harping on since the advent of high-school filmstrips. Is it really that surprising that a woman who gets breast implants might also suffer from *gasp* low self-esteem? That she's modifying her body to reflect the conventions of what's accepted on a massive scale?

Not that there's anything wrong with self-improvement, especially if it gives your self-image a booster shot. But there's always the danger that any body modification is just a veiled cry for help, that any surgery or piercings or tat is just a quick-fix confidence shot, a drug by its own right, so powerful and necessary for survival that it drives itself deep below the skin's surface, to the very core of your being. How can you ever be sure what the difference is between desire and addiction?

Where's science on that one?

Monday Night Live!

Hey gang, my new improv team THE FILTHY UNICORNS is going to be performing tonight at the OVERSTOCK COMEDY SHOWCASE downtown, at a swanky little two-story bar called The Spot. Three dollar cover (which will get you an automatic drink). Come out and see us perform! We've got a full roster tonight, and it's promising to be a fantastic show.

Show up around 10:30 PM to watch the funny happen. You won't be disappointed.

Speaking of things that are effortlessly uplifting, consider this little ditty our new team theme song. Makes me wish Northwestern had that kind of mindless optimism. I'd trade all of North Campus for a brief infusion with this kind of bullshit camp.

Man Triumphs Over Television

Once again, mankind has proven that it won't be fooled by cheap hoaxes.

Reading this article, I am deeply saddened. Mostly that I don't hear news like this more often. It's like the Pro-Active Darwin awards, and the rest of us get a valuable lesson about shotguns. What's not to like?

The only problem is that despite the fact that we get a cool story about a man killing himself, his experiment is notably flawed. The episode of Forensics Files was trying to prove that a woman couldn't shoot herself in the stomach with a shotgun. That point still stands. Everyone knows men are better at killing; women can't suicide for shit.

God Layeth the Smackdown

I don't have sound on my computer at the moment, so if there's anything extra I'm missing from Jake Brown's disastrous skate video, you'll have to let me know.

I'm guessing it sounds something like "YEAAAAAAHHHHHHH---oh. Oh darn."

More importantly, Jake Brown is alive, with only liver and lung damage. Good, I say, because at least he was born with two of both. Seriously though, what does God have against Jake Brown?

It's not like he was skating up the Tower of Babel. Seriously God, what's the deal?

I can't tell if Jake's brains were damaged in the landing, or if he's just a hopeless optimist, but I'd call this one a career-ending injury. Not because of the physical impairment---but because of the undeniable scientligious proof that God wants this man dead. I'm fine with killing skateboarders (God knows the sound of skating on sidewalk could drive any man insane) but taking out your aggression on a measly mortal midway through a stellar trick seems almost vengeful. What is this? The Old Testament?

I guess I shouldn't rag on God about this one. It could be Jake's fault. He did bail, and for all I know, it was at that exact moment during his trick that he remembered his kiddie porn empire. God can't be blamed for that.

Brawls to the Walls

I've been checking out the Official Smash Bros. Brawl website pretty religiously since they started doing their daily updates, and I gotta say, no matter how piddly or nonsensical the additions to the game have been so far, I've been chomping at the bit.

Even when it's as simple a change as the ability to bounce off your opponents' heads or the inclusion of a character NOBODY BUT ME REMEMBERS, I can't help but feeling excited. You read a few of the Game Developer's blog posts, and you get the feeling that this series is still in very good hands.

My friends and I got into a second-wind of Melee recently, probably as a result of the Countdown to Brawl. No one seems to appreciate my decision to play primarily as characters who are complete douchebags. If I'm in the mood to win, however, I'll stick to Yoshi, Fox, and Link, although I'm just now starting to appreciate the joy of playing with Zelda.

What's most impressive about the new game are claims that it will be ONLINE COMPATIBLE, meaning you'll be able to Smash around the world at a moment's notice. More shocking is that today's update indicates that the Single Player portion of the game might derivate from previous iterations in that it won't suck balls. Based on the mini-trailer, it's clear that the main story revolves around some cheap coliseum tryst between Nintendo's Original Closeted Duo: Mario and Kirby. God, upon hearing that his favorite mascots are befouling their loins with the love that dare not speak it's name (Voldemort), sends his Apocalyptic Warship to smite Nintendoland, Sodom and Gomorrah style. Zelda, sensing that her friends' Boystown antics have been found out, stops chastising Peach for being a beard and rushes to the scene of the crime, only to find that the prophesies were true, Skylab really has gone operational.

It's a little less linear than traditional Nintendo story-telling, but at least it's better than that one Final Fantasy game where it turned out you were the dream of a fictional country or whatever.