Yes the title of this post is a fart pun. I found that passing gas was a thematically appropriate pun title when it comes to the subject of Donald Trump since I'm pretty sure he's a brocolli and yogurt fart that has became self aware.
Donald Trump (which is what would happen if Ebenezer Scrooge, Archie Bunker and latter day Marlon Brando got stuck in the matter transporter from The Fly. Then at the last minute someone threw in a bad fright wig from the local community theater thinking it was a closet. The resulting exorbitantly wealthy, self obsessed, casually racist and gibberingly insane lump of sentient goo) has decided to run for President of the United States. His hair, being much smarter than its host, wants nothing to do with it and tries to make a break for it constantly.
It all came to a head over the last two days when the coup de grace to this whole farce was delivered. Donald Trump (or the three gremlins crammed into a skinsuit calling themselves Donald Trump) stood on the stage of the Republican primary debates (among several other skinsuits of various names) and was given a live microphone. It was punchline to a several month long joke and it was glorious.
Except the joke kept going...
During the course of the proceedings, Trump was called to account for some of the heinous things he has said about women in the past by moderator and Fox News personality Megyn Kelly, who seems to have been named by George R.R. Martin. Thus began a war of words between dumb and dumber raging on social media and in the news.
This was followed up by news breaking today that (the Homunculoid pile of clay and bird droppings dipped in crayon wax and tail swatted by a Porcupine now referred to as) Donald Trump's campaign adviser Roger Stone has resigned from the campaign after realizing he was trying to get Donald Trump elected President.
Roger Stone has been described as a "Nixon era dirty trickster" who claims credit for New York Governor Elliot Spitzer's fall from grace. Our hero ladies and gentlemen.
I say "our hero" because the social media sphere have already jumped on the Roger Stone bandwagon. Not that it should be a surprise. In modern culture, we have been conditioned to take sides in public battles, but I'm really stymied here. Sure (the burlap sack of giggling, masturbating, Chimpanzees known as) Donald Trump is annoying. Sure he's backward, ignorant, buffoonish, full of hot air and inexplicably successful despite his lack of anything resembling charisma, charm or talent. All things considered though, Trump really is the lesser of three evils in this equation.
Megyn of House Kelly has gleefully contributed to Fox News' platform of fearmongering, bigotry and complete disregard for anything resembling journalistic ethics. She followed in Fox News' long standing tactic of "throw a pretty blonde, white lady on television to say the most egregious things because it'll be more palatable to our audience". Megyn "The Truthslayer" Kelly found out pretty quick that in reactionary circles, women are prone to being elevated to pedestals until they stand up for themselves or other women. Then the same group of angry men who once idealized them when they were agreeable to the male agenda take great relish in tearing them down for stepping out of the kitchen and ceasing with the making of sammiches
I suppose the argument could be made that seeing the misogynistic leanings of Fox News' audience turned against her might be a "come to White Jesus...because Fox News thinks Jesus was white" moment for Ms. Kelly. Maybe there's an opportunity for redemption there? And maybe it's equally likely (the three grade schoolers operating) Donald Trump (like a full sized muppet) will simply be the hill Megyn was sent to die on for the good of the GOP (more on that later).
On that same note, maybe Roger Stone realized that spending fruitless years trying to elevate a power mad blowhard to the highest office in the land is not the smartest way to pad a resume? This guy thought that Richard "Enemies list" Nixon was A-OK and yet The Donald (who refers to himself as such because he likely sometimes forgets the surname his lizard people overlords gave him) caused Roger Stone to break the emergency glass and bail out with the parachute. It would be funny if it wasn't so sad seeing a terrible person running into a wall of stupid painted to look like Donald Trump, and who chose diving out of the moving car as his wisest option of escape.
Or maybe, as a lifelong political power broker, he simply knew that the (rotting Safeway bag of assorted chicken giblets named) Donald Trump train had run its course.
Not to beat a dead horse, (which incidentally is where Trump got his hair) but how much of a sleazebag do you have to be for Megyn Kelly to call you out on it on live television? How much of a (spunk filled prison mattress stuffed into a flesh coloured tent) liability do you have to be for Roger Stone to decide you aren't worth it?
I really don't know who to root for here so I guess I'll just makes some popcorn, sit back and enjoy two participants in a toxic system responsible for polarizing an entire nation and (a poorly assembled sex bot once purchased by Ayn Rand called) Donald Trump take pot shots at each other.
Hang on, I'm getting a breaking news bulletin. We go now to this update on the Great Hair Escape.
Ok, I'm back.
Let's get serious for a moment. Donald Trump will not be President.
He would be Nancy Kerrigan'd in the parking lot of the Republican Convention before that would be allowed to happen. (How they would find the knee of a being made completely out of dicks is something they'll have to figure out.)
The modern Republican Party is a lot of things. They are backwards. They have been co-opted by the extreme religious right. They are panderers to our worst natures. They are very good at dirty tricks and subterfuge.
One thing they are not is dumb enough to give (a congealed mass of metastasized toxic waste in a 3 piece suit named) Donald Trump the nomination.
Trump is not the future of the GOP (I think short for "Grumpy Old People" ) he's a guaranteed pain in the ass of the future of the GOP. He's the annoying guy that they invited to the party because they thought he wouldn't go and now he's loitering around the punchbowl threatening to spike it with Turbo Lax and won't leave no matter how many people he drives away.
This is a man who openly pledged to run as an independent if he doesn't get the nomination. He was the freakshow meant to distract from the clown car of ridiculous candidates the GOP has fielded. He was something to make the other candidates look good by comparison, but somewhere along the line the doughy mass of termites, Elmers glue and sawdust that collectively refers to itself as Donald Trump gained sentience and decided it was going to run anyway.
Much like Texas billionaire Ross Perot, Donald isn't someone who will just go away if he doesn't get the nod to run. He has the funds to finance his own campaign and he has the insanity and ego to follow through with that threat.
That's what I would say if winning the Presidency was his actual plan. Which it isn't. Donald Trump's chief income source is promoting his "brand" and milking the cult of greed for all it's worth. This isn't going to be a Presidential campaign, it's going to be a year long advertisement for the persona of (the shaved Sasquatch hiding in witness protection known as) Donald Trump.
The Republican Party has created a cult around convincing lower-middle class people to worship the uber wealthy (who actively work to widen the income gap further) and in the process have created a monster they cannot control.
Long story short, Hilary Clinton is the next President of the United States.
Oh what the hell, let's check in on that hair one more time.
You wanna know something funny I found out over my hiatus? I often tag my posts with "Spongebob Erotica" as a running joke (to date I have not penned any sponge smut...yet) and in checking my site stats, I found out that somebody found my site by specifically searching for those two words.
The first thought that hit me was the sad realization that that was the only search term that brought people here. The second thought was how disappointed they must have been when they got here. I know that Rule 34 of the internet (if it exists, there is porn of it) says that I couldn't be the only person putting those two concepts together, but it's gotta be a pretty rare itch to scratch. I just imagine the poor guy or girl (who are we kidding...probably guy) getting here and the dejected Charlie Brown walk of shame as he realizes he has been tricked. Well to you, dear pervert, I humbly apologize.
Anyway, I thought I should probably catch all ten of you up on the last four months. Took a new job at work, hurt my back, started exercising too soon after hurting my back, hurt my back again, set up a Facebook page for the site, learned to wash my hands thoroughly after applying Icey Hot gel to sore back, washed my eyes out after mistakenly rubbing eyes after applying Icey Hot gel, and I wrote a thing about the spineless suits at Reddit providing a subsidized platform for hate groups earlier today. I guess that brings us up to speed.
Oh and I saw some movies. I should talk about those.
Avengers: Age of Ultron
I think for better and for worse, Age of Ultron shows the by products of building a connected universe. For the most part, I really liked AOU but it also suffered from serving too many masters, rather than telling a contained story. I'll avoid my whole "Avengers: Infinity War will be the beginning of the end for shared universes" theory for now, since it really deserves it's own post. For now, I'll just stick to this movie. While it was fun, it was ultimately transitional. Part of this is due to the fact that we already know that this movie was just a stop over on the way to a much bigger movie several years from now.
While some were down on the pairing of Black Widow (her characterization left a lot to be desired in general) and Bruce Banner, I felt that Johannson and Ruffalo had enough chemistry to pull it off.
The movie went a long way to setting up Captain America: Civil War (which looks to be shaping up to be another hero packed team up movie) and the two leads of that movie are so dialed into Iron Man and Cap that it'll be fun to see them pitted against each other.
Overall, I really liked AOU. It introduced some new characters to mixed results. Paul Bettany is great in his limited screentime and Elizabeth Olsen is one of my favourite current actresses, despite a spotty accent. Aaron Taylor Johnson doesn't add much but they can't all be home runs.
Mad Max Fury Road
What more can be said about this movie? Hands down the best movie of this summer. It could possibly be my favourite of the year. If you had told me six months ago that my favourite movie of the summer would be a Mad Max movie, I'd have clubbed you over the head with Immortan Joe's big fake muscled chestplate. Then I'd wonder "What the hell is this thing?" because I wouldn't have seen the movie yet.
What's fun about this movie is how sparse it is in terms of exposition. We get dropped right into this world with little set up. Admittedly, for someone like me with minimal knowledge of the Mad Max series, it can be a little jarring. The nice thing is that the movie's simplicity doesn't require much setup. Once the movie puts a foot on the gas pedal it doesn't let up.
A lot has been said about this film's feminist leanings and it's true, the movie focuses most of the attention on Charleze Theron's impossibly cool named Imperator Furiosa. Her story is the one we are ultimately following and Max plays the reluctant hero, who gets drawn into a conflict he has no real interest in. What's interesting is that while this film is considered remarkably progressive, it never comes across as preachy. George Miller just presents it as, this is the way it is.
In that way, while Fury Road deals with some dark subject matter, it is ultimately an optimistic film. Even in the direst circumstances, the movie never gives in to the cynicism, or misery tourism that permeates many post apocalyptic stories. Fury Road is fun. Insane, off the wall, bonkers, bug nuts, wackadoodle, pure brain candy.
This movie features a guy playing a giant flaming double guitar while tethered to the top of a moving "war rig" (which features a series of other War Boys drumming on empty oil drums in the back). That is the essence of my review.
Greetings and salutations fellow Brain Benders!
Welcome to the inaugural edition of Brain Matters! The one stop shop for all things me. Over the next few weeks, I'll be introducing you all to more of our guest contributors once I have sent out the incriminating blackmail photos to ensure their cooperation. In the meantime, you'll have to put up with little old me. I'd like to take a moment to explain what you can expect to find in the various sections of the site. Some categories have already been created, some are still in the production stage. Basically, this site is like when a store is being renovated. Some of it works, but don't blame me if you fall off a few scaffolds.
Brain Matters: This one is pretty self evident. After all, you are reading it right now (or at least skimming it to see if there are any fun new curse words...dickwhistle!) It is my own personal blog, which will be used to keep you all updated on site business, as well as personal stuff that doesn't fit in the other categories.
Twisted Fiction: This section will be dedicated to creative writing. Can't wait to bust out my Spongebob Squarepants erotic fanfiction.
Rotting My Brain: The part of the site dedicated to all things pop culture. Anything to do with film, television, books, video games or world wide web will go here. This may include anything from news, reviews, commentaries or frankly, anything else I want to put in there.
Synapse Media (Coming Soon): This will be the place for any kind of multimedia projects we may create here. This may include podcasts and/or video content.
Headlines: A place for discussion of current events. Due to the nature of the beast, this section will likely include discussion of news, science and politics as well as other subjects that might make for awkward silence around a dinner table. You have been warned.
The Mystery Button: I suppose you could also pop over to The Mystery Button and see what Mystery Marv has queued up today. A little bit of friendly advice though, don't let him talk you into hanging out with him. If talking for hours about bean dip recipes sounds awful to you, congratulations on being sane. If talking for hours about bean dip sounds fun to you, quit reading this and get back to work Marv! Still, you may as well check out his page. The more time you spend there, the less I have to hear about his cats. I apologize in advance. He came with the site.
Anyway, when I was commissioned (ie - forced under penalty of excruciating death) by Head Office to become the Managing Editor of this site, I didn't really know what they wanted me to do with it. I had woken up in a dark room in the presence of a being which does not have a name humans are capable of pronouncing with our primitive human tongues. It seemed to be fading in and out of our reality making sounds like light sabre swooshes as it did. I decided to call the supreme being, which I guess is technically the owner of the site (kind of like Rupert Murdoch, but less evil) "Head Office" because I'm running a little crazy with head related puns and I just had a run in with an inter dimensional monstrosity so cut me a little slack will ya? It hissed a simple directive: "Entertain me, human! Prove that your kind are worth saving, lest we suck your brain out your nasal cavity and feast on your soul!"
As you can see, I was given a great deal of creative freedom when it comes to site content. Still, I didn't have any real ideas for what Headplaces would be about. It was just a name and an empty page after all and it appears that the fate of the human race rests on me being chosen as an emissary of humanity. So I figured, we're all pretty much f***ed and I might as well have a little fun with it before we get snuffed out of existence or however this thing is gonna work. Then it hit me!
I woke up several hours after it hit me. I didn't see which of Head Office's numerous gangly limbs swung the instrument which rendered me unconscious by clocking me in the temple. Kind of disappointing that a supreme being can't come up with a better way to get me back to our reality than pummeling me with a heavy object. Whatever dimension it comes from seems to have the same laws of physics as the Looney Toons. I bolted upright in my bed, heart racing and covered in what I hoped was sweat. This was curious because I could have sworn that I initially fell asleep on my couch while watching a West Wing marathon on Netflix. Had I dreamed the whole thing? Was I going mad.
I stumbled out into the living room and the screen had dimmed and showed that "Are you still watching The West Wing" message that always interrupts the flow of a good marathon. "Hell yes, I'm still watching the West Wing!", I said out loud before realizing that I was answering a question asked by an inanimate thing. "It's my favourite show!" I blurted out still not cluing in that there was no other half to this conversation taking place.
And that was when I decided on what my first subject would be. Starting next week, over at Rotting My Brain, I will begin a multi part retrospective on my favourite television show: The West Wing. What better way to show Head Office that humanity is worth saving than to present the most idealized, well written and earnest depiction of government and humanity in action. Plus walk and talks...lots of walk and talks.
So, hang on to your lids, kids! It's gonna get all Sorkin-y around here.
Until next time...don't go mindf***ing without protection.
Hi, my name is Mitch and I write things sometimes.