Patrick (Oh Mars) is our main blogger ’round these parts when it comes to films. And while I think he generally has impeccable taste, we don’t always agree on films. Oh Mars was recently invited to Austin’s Fantastic Fest where he took in the sequel to Human Centipede. He panned it. Being a huge fan of the original (which he was as well), I was upset to read this… but since Oh Mars also felt Insidious was a halfway decent and amusing film (which I really disliked), I thought I should see Human Centipede 2 and decide for myself. Since we already reviewed it once, I’ll forgo the whole synopsis of plot. I’m basically just here to convince fans of the first film and any of you still curious enough to give it a chance.

So where do you go from the first Centipede? Do you simply try and out-shock yourself, as most horror sequels do? You could, which HC2 does do, but you could also use it as an opportunity to show off that you’re no one trick pony. While the first film was incredibly disgusting in concept, it was rather light on actual gore and much more cerebral. Part two? Similarly disgusting concept, and yet another strong casting for the villain (first-time actor Laurence R. Harvey), but the complete opposite when it came to execution. It’s as if Tom Six set some personal challenge for himself to show how wide his range at executing the humorous, absurd and grotesque truly is. My opinion? He’s 2 for 2.

Human Centipede 2 is a bit long… the final revolting third of the flick — the building of the centipede — goes on for about 15 minutes longer than it should, but overall the film is incredibly well done with a rather sharp sense of humor about itself and the first film. (This one is all meta and shit for those of you haven’t read Oh Mars’ review.) But let me make this clear, that last third or so? Some of the most gruesome and brutal torture porn you’ll ever see. It puts Hostel to shame; however it’s all done by the hands of a very skilled auteur, if that’s any consolation.

If you’re able to stomach the whole thing through, you’ll find yourself face to face with a rewarding scene that captures the quintessential essence of what we look for in films like this (when done right). That key scene? Mad “doctor” (if you can call him that) Martin’s sense of joy and adulation as his “beautiful monster” finally passes food, well, ass to mouth… which is then quickly replaced by repulsion when he’s overcome with the smell and reality of excrement and decaying flesh. Revolting yes, but also incredibly riotous. That’s the film in a nutshell.

If you’re in New York and of a strong constitution, Human Centipede 2 is having two more midnight screenings today and tomorrow night at Williamsburg’s new and fantastic Nitehawk Cinema. You’ll probably wanna forgo ordering any food during the film though.

I can’t wait to see what Tom Six cooks up for the Final Sequence.

I’m not gonna lie and pretend this is twenty minutes of people blowing smoke up the tape’s ass, but the fact that the crew from Dead End Hip Hop and The Needle Drop all got together to have a serious and honest discussion about eXquire and Lost In Translation is pretty damn impressive and I can appreciate that. So regardless of what is said, what was praised or faulted…  it’s all proof just how much of an impact Lost In Translation is having just a month after it’s release.

Myke C-Town‘s was clearly the tape’s biggest booster who’s sentiments echoed much of what both Stereogum and Pitchfork‘s have said about the release. He seemed to be the only one there (at least right now) who fully got why so many people who grew up in NY and who’s tastes extended from Wu-Tang to BCC to Co Flow are so goddamn excited over eXquire.

My favorite parts of the clip were C-Town asks everyone “when have you heard someone this close to Rudy, like ’95 Rudy?” and Anthony Fantano of The Needle Drop starts complaining over and pondering why Lost In Translation’s sound and mastering wasn’t clean and “crispy” only to get a big fat “Duh? It’s clearly supposed to sound that way,” from the whole DEHH crew. Sonned!

Anyway, if you’re one of the few who haven’t yet downloaded Lost In Translation… get on it!

Introduction: I catch your eye, you get my drift. We barely know one another, and yet I can tell that there is a lot we have in common: for one, we’re reading this Blogling.* We are married to the Mop, ordinary yet exceptional Mopsters. You (all of you) and I are otherwise regular people. Sure, we’re weirdos and that may show. But on any given day, we may not even notice one another, too absorbed by something or other.

I don’t know about you, but I get a bit excited when I see someone wear Мишка. Maybe because I live in a city where there are zero retailers for the brand and generally not much fashion sense. But I assume that the average Мишка-wearer and I may eventually share at least a basis for conversation. It’s a distinctive mark. Something. Or other. That’s exciting. Not that the conversation will happen. Not that I want it to happen. Not that the conversation will be enriching. But if it just so happens that we have a common acquaintance who would just so happen to introduce us, well, the conversation will be struck. The awkwardness will dissipate much faster than if we had have had that common ground. That’s one less person I have to worry about in the crowd, and I’m sure (some of) you can understand how that feels. I hope you feel the same.

Anyway: Birds of a feather. Peas in a Pod. Great wits jump. Nothing new here, you say. The proverbs abound.

But this column will not be about proverbs, oh no. But it will be a column, oh yes. In which I will gather the flocks, pick the pods, dim the wits. Sub|cult|ures, freaks, nerds, geeks, otakus, fanboys, juggalos, whovians, I’m sure you’ve heard of them. Which leads us to the title of this post. If you’re still with me (crossing fingers), you are probably aware that anything we can do the Japanese can do better. Not they’re smarter than us. On average, we’re all average. But Japan has allotted a lot of room in its society to weirdness, it’s a FACT. And here’s proof: Japan has the word “dōjin” that just designates a group of people that share an interest, preferably non-mainstream. Of course, it happens for everything from teletubby cosplay to so-called remix culture to African politics fanfic to macroherpetophiles to WHATEVER YOU NAME IT BECAUSE IT’S JUST THAT ALL-ENCOMPASSING OF A TERM.  ”Circles” in Google+? Yeah, that’s dōjin.

So many terms already, why oh why do we have to bother about borrowing one that’s hard to pronounce? (I recommend it by the way)(From now on you should assume that I only speak in dōjin assemblages)(I will redirect any later comment to this post for reference) Because we are talking about an entirely different ontological beast. While your ordinary ΛΛΛ or ΩΜ nerd herd has felt the need to solidify and find recognition in legit markets, the dōjin hits and runs, it is self-serving. It is entirely emergent: there is no attachment to a space or a time, dōjin just happens when someone partakes in something that other someones do. Yes, your existing cohort is probably a dōjin in many respects. Yes, dōjin will meet at your local Comicon (I miss Hateball) or on the internets to discuss the latest news in their realm of interest (thence) and perhaps generate some lightning. But aside from that? Dōjin are only dōjin by virtue of their recumbency of the same stream of information. It is a culture with a half-life. A zygotic ouroboros. It fully embraces its own entropy whilst blurring the lines between the in and the out group. It exists in fact, before someone slaps a name on it for it to exist in words and be all practical and junk.

So yes, there will be reviews, round-ups, interviews, one-offs, of the things that fascinate me and hopefully will titillate you. I expect to run out of original things to present pretty quickly, so expect this heading to be also pondering of the wider nature of subaltern existence and space immense.

I’m Gnou by the way. Nice to meet you.

*This is what I call a post on the Bloglin; the Bloglin is populated by a swarm of Bloglings; posting a Blogling is called “bloglinging”, reading a Blogling is called “bloglingering.”

The train was late. I wasn’t much bothered by this detail though, mostly because I am not bothered by much. It was fine; I had time to kill, so there was really no reason to get upset. There I was, down in the subway station. It doesn’t matter which one; it could’ve been any stop, really, as you’ll see by what is soon to unfold.

The later the train became, the more people showed up. And the more people that showed up, well, the more ignobly noobish activity took place. It’s a common practice for people, if the train is running late, to keep peering down the track. Why? I don’t know. I suppose the idea behind leaning over the track and craning your neck is that perhaps you will spot the train finally arriving. It’s one of those things that makes absolutely no sense. Eventually the train will arrive and you will get on it. You’re not going to miss the train. There’s no chance of that happening. Even if you sit down with your eyes closed, or conversely, put on headphones but keep your eyes open, you’ll know when the train comes. Continuously peering down the track is not going to help, though consistently, day after day, people do it.

And though I am not bothered by much, this bothered me. Noobs bother me.

I’m a victim of it too, I must admit. Not every time I ride the train, of course; please, Reader, how could you think such things? No, it’s not every time, but sometimes, when the train is growing later and later, I do indeed find myself shifting my weight onto one foot to get a good lean going and better see down the track. And I scorn myself without relent, “Why are you doing this? You know it will come eventually. Stop noobing it.” For you see, though you and I are not noobs, Reader, we all occasionally deteriorate to the noobish qualities that have more or less been eliminated through evolution.

Yes, while noobs are painfully easy to identify, our research has revealed that many people are often mislabeled as a noob. Simple mistakes are easy to make and so one noobish fault here and there is not worthy of condemnation. Continuously checking for the train without reason does not make one a noob. It is a bad habit — and a noobish one at that — but we cannot be certain that the perpetrator, as a result of one noobish crime, is a full-fledged noob. Plenty of mindless, foolish mistakes are made everyday, and many times in subway stations (everything from people checking for trains, or their watch, to screwing up the card swipe procedure), but the people making these errors should generally be given the benefit of the doubt. Various scientific tests and data collections have revealed that it takes at least three consecutive mistakes to render an individual a noob.

On this particular day in which I judged the hell out of everyone who leaned over the track and I, myself, refrained from such leanings, the train eventually came, as I knew it would, and we boarded. It was me, the guy next to me, the woman next to him, and the rest of the train. Those were the passengers; it was about twenty of us. Nearby to me were two people, a young man and a young women, that I recognized from the platform, not as leaners, but as canoodlers. These two had been hugging and kissing and groping the entire time that the train was late. And that’s fine, I was not bothered by this. A lot of people take great offense to PDA, often considering it a noobish display. I do not. I relish in it, in fact.

On the train, however, things got noobish. Observe:

Woman: “I have no fruite at home! Fucking none! No fruit!”

Man: “No?”

Woman: “No! None!”

She started to cry.

Man: “Bummer.”

Woman: “Yeah.”

Bummer indeed.

It saddens me, really. The life of a noob — it’s no way to live! And this is just one, simple example of a small exchange between two noobs. It definitely is a travesty to live in a house with no fruit, but to be brought to tears? That is absurd. When I next caught up with these two they were both wearing sunglasses, and bear in mind we were still on the train, sharing a pair of iPod headphones, one bud per person, and blowing each other kisses. I’m all for PDA, but that’s just obnoxious.

At times I wish that I could help these noobs, perhaps put them on the right path, but such desires are futile as it would take an army much larger than just myself to rescue the masses of noobs and lead them to a higher plateau, a place of non-noobishness. So far what our research is revealing is that while there are some noobs who are indeed hopeless cases, born to noob it forever, others are the results of one too many simple mistakes. Pay attention to the noobs you observe, Reader, noobs on the streets, or in stores, for perhaps we can help them after all. Maybe, just maybe, one at a time we can correct these bad habits and encourage widespread reform, a sort of neutralization of noobity.

This could be the worst news I’ve ever heard. If not, it’s definitely some of the worst. The New York Times is reporting that Tyler Perry is in talks with Lionsgate to create his own cable network, tentatively titled Tyler TV. The channel will initially air reruns of Perry’s sitcoms and movies, along with other third-party Christian-tinged content. With twenty-four hours of House of Payne, Meet The Browns, Madea movies, and other Christian comedies, is there any question left whether or not we’re all going to hell?

Let me clarify: there is not. We as a society are indeed bound for a fiery afterlife, though it may come to us before we get to it. Precisely, Hell on Earth. That’s what this world is shaping up to be with the prospects of twenty-four hour Tyler. Ignore the fact that I was raised under the school of Jewish comedy, where if it’s not a grievance it’s not funny, and hear me out when I say that this is only the start of a wide-spread media take over, in which every program includes a moral brought to you by Perry. It starts with his own network, and then before you know it other networks will be taken over until all stations and channels are broadcasting House of Payne and Meet The Browns in a 1984-esque dystopia where the word of Perry is relayed every moment of the day through government-controlled telescreens and the only free media left are underground radio frequencies in which to hear a gospel not preached by Perry.

Think I’m exaggerating? Maybe I am, but that does not mean that this is any less of a bad thing. Like I said, on top of not being funny, Perry’s brand of so-called comedy is all about family values, morals, and learning lessons. That’s crap. For fans of Perry’s comedy this news is met with great excitement: “Tyler Perry? All The Time!? Yes!” For fans of actual comedy, the opposite reaction is inherent.  As the sixth-highest paid man in Holywood, according to Forbes, Perry is preaching all the way to the bank.

I don’t mean to criticize Perry’s morals or values, however, just his comedic abilities. I really do not care at all if somebody has different values than me, but the means that he uses to communicate those values, and said comedic-attempts, are through ridiculous depictions of tired African-American stereotypes and cliches. And, I mean, I’m not African American so it’s not that the stereotypes themselves offend me, but rather, as a comedian, the path Perry takes is such an easy one, and one that has proven remarkably successful, that it is a real bummer.

One hope remains in the prospect that this will totally fail or just not happen. Reasoning behind this belief is that Oprah Winfrey’s new television network, OWN, is observing poor ratings. If media mogul Winfrey can barely sustain her own network, how can a miniature-mogul like Perry expect to? That’s right, he can’t.

And while Perry should maybe be given props here for becoming incredibly successful from humble beginnings, he won’t be. Just because.

The reason they put choking hazards on toys nowadays can be attached, almost singularly, to the existence of Polly Pocket. Manufactured by Bluebird Toys, an independent company based in England that would later be acquired by toy goliath, Mattel, Polly Pocket consisted of a shrunken-down, stereotypical, “valley girl” character (Polly) along with her miniature accessories and interchangeable outfits packed into a dreamscape that folds right up, into, what resembles, a makeup case. The tiny pieces within the outer shell, once misplaced, left the toy completely worthless causing parents to bear the brunt of a discontented or dead child, depending on if the pieces slipped through a crack in the sidewalk or down a throat becoming lodged in the air passage. Polly actually underwent a recall in 2006 for this very issue.

And now, a little something for the boys. Polly’s younger and more daring male counterpart Mighty Max, something, due to my gender, I’m way more knowledgeable about and keen on discussing, hit stores in 1992, also manufactured by Bluebird, playing off of the “eww” factor that young males so voraciously bought into. I was no exception to the rule and was set on snatching up all of these “spooky,” “scary,” compact toys, down to the last, highly-losable figurine. Mighty Max toys were pocket-sized worlds in the shape of snakes, skulls, and other creatures of the night, offering in the jaws of the beast, an environment and a chance to roleplay and plot interactions between hero and villain. Each plastic landscape had the coolest names too, so rad they made me wonder if someone’s job there was to come up with the titles of each individual snap-case.

The toys were categorized into Doom Zones and Horror Heads and, if my memory serves me, the only difference between them was the shape and look of the exterior carrier. My personal collection included Mighty Max Conquers the Temple of Venom, Mighty Max Escapes From Skull Dungeon, Mighty Max Challenges Lava Beast, Mighty Max Pulverizes Sea Squirm, and the list goes on and on. Now, when I say the pieces were small, I mean miniscule. I managed to lose the figurines within a matter of weeks and after going through a trunk of my old playthings a few months ago, I had only the cases left, a timeworn skeleton of my Mighty Max intrigue, with no movable pieces in sight.

A mint condition Mighty Max set, if any kid could keep one that way, is comprised of a Max figure along with two or three enemy figures. Once those are gone, all fun is lost forever. To promote the toys, a shitty cartoon was developed in the early ’90s about an entitled, blonde-haired brat who finds an enchanted baseball cap. Nobody really knows how he acquired the cap, I’ve heard theories about Max’s dad leaving it to him, Max breaking his mother’s statue and finding it inside, and Max discovering it in his mailbox, but, regardless the process, the hat allows him to timetravel, fight monsters, and embark on a quest to fell the perpetratin’ Skullmaster.

The damned things are on eBay as we speak, going for upwards of 200 smackers. If i’d have know I might not have……well no, I woulda still abused the shit out of them and misplaced everything.

Here comes a dose of nostalgia for you: Crispy M&M’s. Remember those? They were almost identical to traditional M&M’s in appearance, though slightly bigger and featured a crispy rice center. They were great. I’m not even that big of an M&M fan; I don’t particularly like the Traditional ones, or the Peanut ones really, though the Peanut Butter variety are superb. There was just something irresistible about the Crispy M’s. Unfortunately, like all the greatest supplemental snacks, treats such as 3D Doritos, Starburst Fruit Twists, and Reese’s Crunchy Cookie Cups, Crispy M&M’s eventually vanished from store shelves, and in time, memories.

I’ve been studying the disappearance of Crispy M&M’s for a while now, finally feeling as though I’ve amassed enough research to present my findings. First, the facts: Crispy M’s were reportedly discontinued in the US in 2005. When I questioned M&M parent comany, Mars, Inc., regarding the matter, they had this to say: “Because we are reviewing our marketing strategy, this product is unavailable at this time…The product cannot be purchased via the Internet nor directly from us.” Seems suspicious, don’t you agree?

I guess it’s not that suspicious, just unfortunate. Though it is curious that Mars, Inc. would choose to discontinue what is ranked as the most profitable type of M&M of all time.

Since 2005 I’ve remained hopeful that Crispy M&M’s would one day return to the US. After all, they are still sold in Europe and parts of Asia, so why not bring them back?  In April 2010, however, I became doubtful of their eventual reemergence with the introduction of Pretzel M&M’s. In addition to having the same vibrant light blue packaging as Crispy M&M’s, Pretzel M&M’s feature the Benedict Arnold of the candy world, the Orange M&M, as their mascot. This means that were Crispy M&M’s to return, they would have to go through a total repackaging, including new bag color and mascot, the prospects of which are unlikely.

It’s not that Pretzel M&M’s are bad, per se. They’re fine. Yeah, they were awarded a 2011 Product of the Year by Product of The Year USA. Whatever. They’re just not an adequate heir to the Crispy Throne.

I caught wind of a new strain of M, Crispy Mint, available down in Australia back in ’06. None of my Australia contacts (of which there are none) could confirm their existence, but a simple Google search yielded photo evidence of the product. Rumor has it that once the chocolate exterior was penetrated the peppermint flavor was incredibly overpowering. Additionally, the Crispy Mint packaging, featuring both the female Green M and the turncoat Orange M, was the last time Orange was pictured as an ambassador of Crispy M&M’s. And man did he look nervous! He clearly had already made, or at least begun, the switch over to the Pretzel side and was nervous about being found out.

I got you, Orange. Traitor.

As of this writing, it’s unlikely that we will see Crispy Mint M&M’s available in the US anytime soon, except for the eerily similar M&M Mint Crisp variety that were released in 2008 to coincide with the release of Indiana Jones and The Kingdom of The Crystal Skull.

There was just something about the Crispy M’s. They were unlike any other candy. Well, I guess they were actually just like every other candy made of milk chocolate and crispy rice. Regardless, I really liked them. They are still available for purchase through international online retailers, but it’s not the same. I was initially hesitant to take up the Crispy M&M case, fearful for the answers that I may find. And find them I did. While there are still murmurs among the streets that the crispy rice candy may one day make it back to our shores, for the time being, Crispy M&M’s are gone. Case closed.

Don’t ask me how someone decided that an animated children’s series would make the perfect forum in which to flex their aptitude for media mash-ups. I can’t claim complete ignorance to the phenomenon of a mature audience adapting kid’s TV as their guiding light, seeing as how I wrote a post last month about my obsession, and that of many other 20-something males, with iCarly. There’s no judgment here, ‘bro-nies’ (the self-proclaimed nickname for guys into My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic). It just so happened that there is a whole smattering of these lonely saps that have a thing for fantastical talking horses who, if I were a betting man, would have my money on their appearance on To Catch A Predator in the near future.

The ‘bronies’ don’t just watch the show religiously, collect the toy’s from their daughters’ happy meals, or gather behind closed doors to share their passion for the show with other men of the same camp, they also make fan videos. Mashing the rainbow mares with different songs and movie/TV show dialogue, these fanatics have undergone scrutiny from the press in that they have not only been able to avoid prosecution for copyright infringement but have been glorified by Hasbro studios, the company that owns the rights to MLP (My Little Pony; it’s just easier this way).

These amateur editors are just as guilty of breaking the royalty-reinforcing law as mash-up artists like Girl Talk and video DJ, Pogo in the minds of the public. But what happens when the company whose material is unquestionably being used has their head screwed on straight and decides to shake the hands of the devotees instead of demanding they empty their pockets or face legal action? I’ll tell you exactly what happens, both the owner and borrower share a mutual appreciation for the output instead of suing and countersuing. Hasbro has even released a video that thanks the viewers for their loyalty and promotion. That’s the way it should be but I doubt any significant change will come from this, just a message to the people that artists and DJs (audio, video, whatever) can live together in perfect harmony free of bad blood and court costs.

Have you ever clicked on a YouTube video only to receive a message and a red diagonal-line mouthed face, I think this means uncertainty but they know just what they have done, that reads “This video has been removed due to copyright blah, blah, blah?” Of course you have and that’s because you can’t share anything online anymore without having an army of tight-assed lawyers chasing after you making threats and appeals. I know it’s a little different seeing as how we’re discussing mash-ups and the recognition of their artistry by big business but it’s more of the same, evil bequeathed from the same toughened, lifeless bosom.

Now that I’ve gone completely off the rails we can start talking about video mashing again, an act with same basic premise as sampling beats or songs. I mean we’ve got Seinfeld, The Watchmen, 300, The Dark Knight, Lord of The Rings, Inglorious Basterds, The Hangover, Wu-Tang Clan (one of the most mashed up groups ever), and much more copywritten output being lip-synced by a bunch of ponies for goodness sake.

It doesn’t get any better than this and I’m not alone in my assumption, Hasbro thought so too, and that’s what matters. Meanwhile, I’ve been enjoying these brony videos, the editing is unreal and the hardwork that went into them, clear as day. Bottom line, stop censoring online parodies and tributes. Haven’t you heard of viral marketing, morons?

Variety wrote a full-on analysis of this timeless battle over creative licensing and ownership through the twinkly eyes of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic and it’s  available to read here. Equestrian Swag!

Good news  for those who loathe the rise of 3D technology. A new study by the ever-popular Journal of Vision is reporting that 3D displays cause extra eye fatigue when compared with their 2D counterparts.

Yeah. That’s right.

Any chance I get to bash 3D technology is a welcome one, especially when my gripes are backed by research or facts other than “3D is stupid.” This is one of those chances. According to researchers from University of California-Berkeley, test subjects surveyed after viewing 3D displays reported more eyestrain, fatigue, neck and back pain, and less vision clarity than compared to viewing 2D displays. For 2D displays, the focal point, that being the surface of the screen, and the vergence distance, where in the image the eyes attempt to focus, are always the same. For 3D video, however, the vergence distance varies and can either be in front of, or behind the screen. Herein lies the source of the increased fatigue and eyestrain. This could potentially mean bad things for manufacturers of 3D TVs, in this case that means research sponsor, Samsung.

But it probably won’t.

True, customers are not going to want to keep purchasing products, be it TVs or tickets, that they know will cause them discomfort, but unfortunately Samsung will likely figure out a way to use this research to their benefit and improve 3D technology. Unfortunately.

Yes, even with the knowledge that 3D is causing eyestrain and whatever other minor pains, it’s not going to go away, as hard as that is to admit. It is very seldom in human history that we have backtracked away from advancement in technology. People learn to make it work, and people learn to like it. And while 3D movies proved to be a passing fad in the ‘50s and ‘80s, there is just too much of a profit to be made this time around for the trend to die down.

My problem with 3D technology is not that it is new and different, as you might be thinking, because in fact, I am very down with change. One of my favorite parts of Pokemon, actually, was getting my guys to evolve. No, my problem with 3D is not that it is new and different, and not even that it is stupid and unnecessary, which it is. Rather than being a step forward for film technology, it is merely a step to the right or left. It’s not really a significant development or advancement for filmmaking, as it is so often hailed, just another way to further enhance explosions, as well as Michael Bay’s wallet.

And that’s fine; that’s all good and nice. My whole thing with 3D movies though is just that I don’t like the concept of them. I don’t want my movies popping off the screen; I want them to stay where they are. Action movies, fine, pop out. I don’t really care. You probably won’t be good anyway. But comedies, or even more importantly, rom-coms, stay where you are. Don’t pop out. And while it seems that for the time being 3D is going to keep infecting the action movie genre, let us not treat them as this brand new, advanced technology that is going to enhance all feature films. That’s really my gripe: the prospect that every movie may one day be 3D.

In its current state, the most aw-inspiring aspect of 3D movies is the nearly fifty percent increase it causes in ticket prices. The effects, on top of being not very cool, are rarely even utilized throughout entire movies. Yeah, I don’t like 3D, but if I’m going to pay for unimpressive CGI, I want it through the whole movie!

Having said that, I’m definitely not going to pay for it ever.

And the thing about this current incarnation of 3D technology is that it would in no way enhance most movies. Imagine watching a Woody Allen film in 3D. The realness of the anxiety, so close and nervous to you that you could almost touch it! The prospects are anything but exciting.

James Cameron is to blame, really. 3D would have made its way into our lives and theatres one way or another, but it was that guy (I will only dignify using his name once) that went around claiming it will be in 100% of theaters within five years. Now that’s quite a hefty claim, and if he means 3D technology as it is currently, then please, let his prediction be incorrect.

Don’t worry, this is not going to turn into a rant on Avatar (so this next part about how the storyline is the exact same as Disney’s Pocahontas, and how the entire CGI world is not breathtaking in the slightest, contrary to how it is so often labeled, and about how anyone who asked “Will Cameron’s 3D dream, ‘Avatar’, change cinema forever?” should never ask another question again, will be contained in these parenthesis, so as to indicate that they are not essential to the rest of this piece).

And, you know, as much as I don’t want to see Joseph Gordon-Levitt popping off the screen and agonizing in three dimensions, this isn’t about me. This is about people who wear glasses. Think of how horrible and uncomfortable 3D movies are for them! What are they going to do, put the oversized Real-D glasses on over the normal frames? That’s not comfortable! True, they could take their prescription frames off to more comfortably wear the uncomfortable 3D glasses, but then everything would be blurry for them! That’s certainly not an option.

Perhaps with further development we’ll get to a point where there will be no need for oversized plastic glasses and increased pay rates. Maybe one day all movies will naturally be presented in 3D, similar to how TV is regularly in color. You never hear people complaining about TV being in color. If one day 3D movies were presented without the glasses, then I would be happy, and not because my opinion for 3D movies will have changed, but just because people who wear glasses would finally be treated as equals. That’s really what I’m in this for: Equality.

Have you ever been on Yahoo! Answers? If you haven’t, please, don’t go. It genuinely may deplete your intelligence. I mean that. And it’s not an issue of there being a lack of answers, but rather, the nature of the questions being asked. They’re insanely stupid. It’s unbelievable! The problem goes far beyond stupidity, however, to a place of sheer inconsideration. It’s cruel the things that these Yahoo! users impose on other, general users of the Internet! I’m hesitant even to provide a few examples, but not that hesitant.

For starters, here’s one regarding party-appropriate apparel:

This question, requiring just a basic level of decisiveness and personality, is typical of the type you’ll find littered across Yahoo! Answers. It’s not too stupid of a question either, but it has no business being posed to the collective community that is the World Wide Web. Lucy, Lucy, Lucy; You really don’t have anyone else to whom you can ask this question? There’s not one single person in your life who could advise you in this area just as well, if not better, than some random person (pervert) on the Internet? I guess it’s actually pretty ignorant of me to assume that everyone in this world with access to Yahoo! also has access to human beings. Yeah, that’s messed up.

But another thing, you’re already online! You’re on the Internet! Just look up 1960s icons! It’s this type of simple, shockingly easy to answer question that plagues Yahoo! Answers.

Another type of question frequently asked by users is the type that, well, is impossible to answer. Here’s one asked by a culinary school student:

How can you do that? You can’t. How do you ride a bike without a bike? Or, perhaps an even more poignant question for Thanh to answer: How do you spend money without having any money?

From there we move to the type of question that, while there is a definite answer to be found, it should stay unknown. Here’s this one, about, well…holes:

Jesus. Please, nobody tell this guy the answer.

Those are, more or less, the three main types of questions you’re gonna find around Yahoo! Answers. Often times the questions will be some combination of two types, like a question that doesn’t really have an answer (other than an obvious “no”) but also could easily be asked to anybody other than a Yahoo! user.

Here we have some straight up idiocy:

No, Joe Jack, you won’t. Protein, despite what you heard, is not a drug. You will, however, fail an IQ Test.

And then there’s this:

As far as I know, this does not exist. Really the only thing to suggest here is that you find two people that are down to have you follow them around while they interact (no screenplay crap + based on a true story) and then watch them have sex. And I guess one of these people would have to be a mother. Something tells me that this guy and the neck hole guy would hit it off famously.

Continuing along the downward spiral of SAT scores (the only real way to judge a person’s intelligence):

Dude. What does it matter? What is this information being surveyed for?

When did it stop being a word? Never. Snuck is the past participle and informal past tense for “to sneak.”

Yup. No such thing.

I don’t know, what does this sentence say?

http://translate.google.com/

Is this 100% a matter of opinion? Yeah, it is.

Sexist? No, never. Correct? Always. All girls love it, dude! You got it!

Someone put this guy in touch with the neck hole dude and the realistic milf porn guy. That’s the dream team right there.

Spend less time on the Internet. Talk to real people. Do anything. ANYTHING! You wanna paint more? Fine! Just do it. Don’t ask Yahoo! users what they think you should do. They don’t know you!

Fortunately, Yahoo! Answers has hidden a disclaimer deep in the shadows of their website, claiming, “Yahoo! does not evaluate or guarantee the accuracy of any questions, answers or other posted information on Yahoo! Answers” Accuracy? This certainly is not a matter of accuracy. In fact, the answers are all pretty accurately addressed (at least, as accurately as they could be by a bunch of idiots), but the questions at hand are just so ridiculously mind numbing – that’s really what Yahoo! needs to legally protect themselves against! Brain damage.

I keep going back to their website to look for a couple more questions for this post, and just end up widening my eyes and shaking my head. Forget what I said before, go check it out. Do it. You’ll be okay, I imagine, as long as you eventually leave the site and have a conversation with someone, or read a book.

There are honestly so many questions on Yahoo! Answers similar to, “If your life was a song, what would the title be?”, “Do you think the person you are thinking about right now is thinking about you too?”, and, “What comes to your mind when I say ‘stars’?” And maybe I’m in the minority when I say that I don’t care at all what someone I don’t know thinks of when they hear the word “stars,” but I doubt it. I can’t be! And I honestly hope that no one, other than my mother, cares what I think of when hearing the word “stars” either. The world cannot be that imbecilic. True, Yahoo! Answers has over 200 million users (and yes, I got that figure from a Yahoo! Answers question, ironically), but I just won’t give up on mankind like that! The questions are too stupid! Do I think the person I am thinking about right now is thinking about me too? Only if every Yahoo! Answers user is currently pondering just how little I think of them. Now that, I would like an answer to.