Al Gore Says We're All Going to Die Soon

The other night I walked into a movie theater for the second time in a year, a new record for me. Jodi and I went with some friends to see Al Gore's new environmental film called We're All Going to Die Soon and You Should Have Voted for Me Back in 2000 Because You Don't Want to Die and Neither Do I but Now Everything is Really Screwed Up and We're All Going to Die for Sure but That's What You Get for Voting for That Inbred Texas Redneck Who Constantly Says 'Uh' and Walks with His Arms Way Out to the Side as If He's About to Kick Somebody's Ass or Something I Mean What Were You All Thinking Voting for that Guy and Now We're All Going to Die a Horrible Death Like All Those People in That One Movie with Dennis Quaid and the Kid from the Gay Cowboy Movie So Thanks for Not Voting for Me, Morons, See You All in Hell.

I've never been a huge fan of Al Gore. Not that I hate him or anything. I just don't ever really think about him. Kind of like Bananarama. But I have to say that this is one well-made, edge-of-your-seat, scary ass film. You wanna pee your pants from fear? Forget The Shining and The Exorcist. Watch this thing instead. Better yet, round up your kids. Tell them you're taking them to see the re-release of The Little Mermaid, and then take them to see this instead. That'll get the little vermin to straighten up and fly right.

In case you have a problem understanding the whole global warming issue, allow me to use my magnificent scientific mind to explain it. Okay, you've heard of carbon monoxide, right? That's the stuff in cigarettes, and the surgeon general says carbon monoxide will cause pregnant women to give birth to children who have flippers where their arms should be. That's carbon monoxide. Now, to understand how carbon dioxide is different from carbon monoxide, think of Spinal Tap. Carbon dioxide is one higher.

So having too much carbon dioxide in the atmosphere not only causes children to be born with flippers, but it also causes polar bears to drown. And the reason we have too much carbon dioxide in the atmosphere is because we create too much pollution because we're a bunch of jackasses.

When I first settled into my chair in the theater to watch this movie, I sat there listening to the pig people snorting their food and thought I was about to see 2 hours of hippy propaganda on the screen. But then the film started, and it suddenly hit me: the hippies were right. All these years I've been making fun of the hippies because they're weirdos, but it turns out that the weirdos were right all along. They're still weirdos, but they're right. I know they're right because I've seen the pictures of Antarctica splitting in half and dolphins being born with children's arms.

According to Al Gore, we're all going to die in 50 to 75 years if we don't stop being jackasses and turn everything around. But I've never been an optimist, so I think it's more like 10 to 15 years. And I don't think there's a chance in hell that we'll turn things around. There are a few reasons why I think we're all doomed.

REASON 1: AL GORE IS A GOOBER

Nobody wants to take sides with a goober, even if that goober is right. You could say to your friend, "Hey, have you seen that Al Gore movie? It looks like we're all going to die soon if we don't stop being jackasses."

Then your friend will say, "But Al Gore is a goober."

And then you'll say, "Yeah, you're right. He is goober. Let's order a pizza."

REASON 2: THE WORD "GREENHOUSE"

You can't expect to create world-wide concern when you use a term like "greenhouse gases." Greenhouse is such a nice sounding word. You've seen greenhouses before. They're lovely. Who doesn't love a greenhouse? So when people hear a guy saying, "We'd better watch out for those greenhouse gases!" that's not very effective, is it? It's like telling people, "Oh God! Beware the cinnamon sparkle delight gases! They'll kill us all!" You've got to change that name to get people's attention. You got to call it something like "toxic bleed-out-your-poohole and die-in-agony gases."

REASON 3: SOCCER AND DANCING WITH THE STARS

It doesn't matter if the rest of the world gets its act together when it comes to global warming. The United States never will. I know we won't. The reason I know we won't get our act together is that most people are too busy raising ugly broods of children and taking them to soccer practice. And when they're not doing that, they're busy watching Dancing with the Stars. Lowering toxic bleed-out-your-poohole and die-in-agony gases is not even on their list of top 100,000 things to do.

THEREFORE...

In 10 to 15 years, we will all be treading water with our flippers.

I always thought the end of the world would be the result of nuclear bombs, antichrists, the four horsemen of the apocalypse, and flying monkeys from the Wizard of Oz. But now I realize that we're all going to die because of soccer and Dancing with the Stars. And that depresses me. I need a Dr. Pepper.

Have a nice day.

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JFK -- The Case of the Exploding Head

Last night I watched JFK for the 9th time—not because I absolutely love it, but because nothing else was on television and you gotta watch something because this is America. Anyway, JFK is a very serious movie about a subject that demands our utmost attention and respect. Overall I give it three and a half rifles.

There are four things that need to be said about this movie.

First, this movie is really, really, really, really long. It kept me up until midnight. I'm getting old, so it's not as easy for me to stay awake until midnight anymore. Therefore, do not watch this movie if you can't stay up until midnight.

Second, Kevin Costner is a really good actor… I mean, for a baked potato. Just don't ask him to play a district attorney from New Orleans, or Robin Hood, or any kind of human that has an accent, emotion, or the ability to speak. But if you are making a major motion picture and you need to cast a baked potato or, say, a mashed potato, or even an au gratin potato, well then Kevin Costner is your guy.

If memory serves, somewhere in the Book of Revelation there is a vivid description of hell. There’s a white horse, and then 7 black horses, and then 24 red horses, or something like that. And then there’s a giant movie theater, with no exits and no snacks. And on the screen is a never-ending version of My Dinner with Andre, starring Kevin Costner and Keanu Reeves…

KEVIN: How's your fish?

KEANU: Pretty good.

KEVIN: Oh.

KEANU: How's your fish?

KEVIN: Good.

KEANU: That's good.

KEVIN: Yeah.

KEANU: I like fish.

KEVIN: Yeah. I like fish too. Fish is good.

KEANU: Oh.

KEVIN: How's your carrots?

KEANU: Good.

KEVIN: I like carrots too. I like carrots and I like fish.

KEANU: Me too. I like carrots and I like fish too.

KEVIN: I like fish better than I like carrots. But I like carrots too.

KEANU: Yeah, me too.

KEVIN: Oh.

....

Third, I watched this movie on TBS, which means they dubbed over the original cuss words with fake cuss words. They do this because if you hear the original cuss words, you will get cancer.

I love it when the cable station dubs over the real cuss words in the movie and makes up their own family-friendly cuss words. I just find it very interesting in an entertainingly stupid way. I believe this is the first movie where I've ever heard a guy call another guy a “motherfletcher.”

I wish I could snag that job—the guy who gets to make up the fake cuss words for movies that air on TBS. I think I could do a much better job than the guy who's doing it now. Instead of “motherfletcher,” I'd use something with a little more flare and class—maybe “motherfrequentflyer” or “mothertrapperkeeper.” I think I would do beautiful work cuss dubbing the movie Scarface…

     TONY MONTANA (played by Al Pacino):

     .... Jumpin' Jeeter Skeeter! Whatsa matter with me? Get a hold of y'self now.

     These mothertrapperkeepers gonna run over you.

     Let 'em try. I bury the mothertrapperkeepers....

     .... Oh trapperkeeper Manny.

     How the trapperkeeper did I do that? 

     How the trapperkeeper!..

     .... Oh Manny, Manny...

     You were there for me, you were the one,

     Manny, you understood, always understood...

     Well what the googlygobbly happened, hunh?

     What the googlygobbly happened to us?...

See? Now that's a movie with quality fake cuss dubbing.

Fourth, whether you believe that Oswald acted alone or if there was a conspiracy, it doesn't matter. Why? Because I figured it all out so that you don't have to.

You see, Jodi and I traveled through Dallas last year, and we took it upon ourselves to go to Dealey Plaza to re-enact the Kennedy assassination. Well, okay, actually I did the re-enactment by myself while Jodi refused to participate in any way, shape, or form.

On Elm Street in downtown Dallas, at the exact spot where Kennedy was shot in 1963, the fine citizens of Texas have placed a giant “X.” I don't know if people in Texas do this for all of the people they shoot, or just the ones that they're especially proud of. I'm guessing it's the latter, because otherwise there would be giant “X”s all over that mothertrapperkeeping state, and you'd be driving around thinking that you were always at a railroad crossing.

Anyway, before we went to Dealey Plaza, I was convinced that Oswald did not act alone (if at all) and that the fatal shot came from the grassy knoll. Jodi was convinced that Oswald was the lone assassin. During my scientific re-enactment of the assassination, I was able to prove exactly what really happened. Here is how the re-enactment went down…

At precisely 12:30 PM Central Standard Time (the exact time when Kennedy was shot), Jodi and I pulled out of our parking spot near the old Texas School Book Suppository in our green 1997 Toyota 4Runner V6, which is surprisingly similar to the convertible in which JFK was riding.

We slowly turned onto Elm Street and drove at the exact speed as the Kennedy motorcade. I played JFK. Jodi played Jackie Kennedy, Governor Connelly, Connelly's wife, the driver, and the guy sitting next to the driver.

At the exact moment that we approached the giant X, I said…

“Blam! Mothertrapperkeeper! I'm hit!”

And then a split second later…

“Blam! Holy Shiite Muslims! I'm hit again! This sucks!”

And then a few seconds later, the fatal shot…

“Blam! Oh trapperkeeper! The front portion of my head has exploded and my body is being thrown back and to the left, back and to the left, back and to the left… That can mean only one thing! The shot must have come from way behind me someplace, because otherwise how could it make the front half of my mothertrapperkeeping head explode and make me go back and to the left, back and to the left, back and to the left?…”

And then I tried to push Jodi out of the 4Runner and get her to climb on the roof to the back of the vehicle, just like Jackie Kennedy did. And I wanted her to say…

“Holy Snortyporks! They're shooting at us!”

But Jodi did not comply with my request. Instead, she just looked at me and said, “You're an idiot.”

Jodi is afraid of the truth. But Oliver Stone, the baked potato, and I know better.

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Spellbound—The Feel Good Movie of the Year

So I finally saw the movie Spellbound, which is a documentary about the 1999 National Spelling Bee. Some people like action movies, other people like comedies, and women and gay people like dramas. Me? I prefer watching a bunch of adolescent social outcasts repeatedly being emotionally traumatized over misspelling a painfully obscure word in front of a national audience. Now that is the way to spend 97 minutes.

In case you have not yet had the pleasure of seeing this film, I won't ruin it for you by revealing the plot. But I will tell you about the best part of the movie.

One of the spellers is this Indian kid with enormously huge ears whose father is a certified whackjob. This guy enjoys putting his son through an excruciating “Rocky Versus Alphabet Cereal” training regimen for months and months and months.  Also, this kid's grandfather back in India apparently paid a thousand dollars to a group of people to lie down prostrate in the dirt and pray for the kid to win. But the best part is this… in order to add even more pressure to the situation, they decided that they would donate the $10,000 grand prize to feed starving people back in their family's village in India… if the kid won.

They could have won an Oscar with this film if they had only consulted me. I would have had them place a television in the middle of this village in India so that the starving people could watch the spelling bee live on ESPN. You'd see all these pathetic souls covered in flies huddled around the 15-inch television screen. And every time the kid's turn to spell came around, they would all just about collapse from anxiety to see if they would get to live another day. That woulda been awesome…

PRONOUNCER: The word is “Mashed Potatoes.”

KID: (Beads of sweat forming on his scalp) Can I please have the origin? Is it from the Latin?

PRONOUNCER: No, it is Idahoan.

KID: Can you please repeat the pronunciation?

PRONOUNCER: Mashed potatoes.

KID: Nash tomatoes?

PRONOUNCER: Mashed potatoes.

KID: (A single line of sweat slowly travels down the middle of the kid's head and drops off the edge of his nose) Match Tomatillos?

PRONOUNCER: Mashed potatoes.

FLIES AROUND STARVING PEOPLE: Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

KID: Mashed potatoes?

PRONOUNCER: Mashed potatoes.

KID: Can I please have the definition?

PRONOUNCER: Potatoes (peeled or unpeeled) that are mashed, with heated milk or cream and butter or vegetable oil added. A French recipe adds egg yolk for Pommes duchesse that is piped through a pastry tube into wavy ribbons and rosettes, brushed with butter and lightly browned. The mashed potato is a common way of serving potatoes in many countries, except India.

FLIES AROUND STARVING PEOPLE: Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

KID: Mashed potatoes?

PRONOUNCER: Mashed potatoes.

KID: Can you please use it in a sentence?

PRONOUNCER: Pedro, the ophthalmologist, turned to his good friend, Blaze Tanner, the longshoreman, and said, “Man, I'm hungry! You know what sounds good? A pizza! With pepperoni and lots of cheese, and a hamburger, and ten milkshakes. No! Ooooh! No! I know! Mashed potatoes! Man, I would kill a retarded child on a bicycle for a large plate of steaming mashed potatoes with a big glob of butter! Yeaaaaaahhhhhhh!”

FLIES AROUND STARVING PEOPLE: Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

KID: Mashed potatoes?

PRONOUNCER: Mashed potatoes.

KID: (Head is completely wet) Okay... N-A-C-S-H............. D-P-O-T-A-A-D...... E-U-S.

PRONOUNCER: Wrong. Get off the stage.

FLIES AROUND STARVING PEOPLE: Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

I’m telling you people, that has Academy Award written all over it. At the very least, it’s better than Yentl.

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And the Award Goes to...

Today there was absolutely nothing on television, so after watching the same episode of “SportCenter” for the 25th straight time, I decided to watch a movie that I have been avoiding for 25 years—The Blue Lagoon.

In case you haven't seen it, this movie stars Brooke Shields and a kid with curly blonde hair. The story is about how Brooke Shields gets shipwrecked with this kid on a deserted island and has her period in a blue lagoon. And then they have a baby. And then 50 million eharmony.com commercials come on, showing fat, ugly people dancing with each other.

I'm torn about who did the best acting job in the movie, but I think I'm going to have to go with the blood from Brooke Shields' period. Best supporting actor goes to one of the oars in the boat.

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