"Chomp" by Carl Hiaasen

BOOK TITLE: Chomp

AUTHOR: Carl Hiaasen

YEAR: 2012

GENRE: Fiction

SUBGENRE: Environmental Thriller

GRADE: Pass

Mickey Cray and his son Wahoo are professional animal wranglers who need to scrape up as much money as they can to avoid foreclosure. Their opportunity at financial salvation comes in the form of Derek Badger, a reality TV survivalist who wants to use the Cray family’s reptiles as creative fuel for his show. When the egotistical Derek wants more convincing footage, he, the TV crew, and the Crays venture out into the Everglades, where the animals are wilder and more likely to bite something off. Tagging along on this adventure is Tuna Gordon, a black-eyed girl who wants to get away from her father’s abuse. In typical Hiaasen fashion, controlled chaos is the name of the game. Nobody is safe from Mother Nature’s harsh judgment, especially not the phony Derek Badger.

Yes, this is yet another Carl Hiaasen novel I’m reviewing, but Chomp is different from the others I’ve read due to its young adult audience. The swearing is minimal, the violence is slightly toned down, and most importantly, the content is educational enough to be taught in high school or college. Tuna Gordon has an encyclopedic knowledge of taxonomy, or scientifically naming organisms. Mickey Cray and his son Wahoo bring enough common sense to their jobs that Mother Nature looks down on them favorably. Julie Cray, Wahoo’s lawyer sister, knows enough about Florida law that she can gain leverage against any corrupt TV official. Kids have to know all of these things if they want to live in a cooperative and peaceful environment. The educational value of this book is priceless: be good to Mother Nature and Mother Nature will be good to you.

Another thing I enjoyed about this book was the budding relationship between Wahoo and Tuna. It could never be accused of instant love. In fact, they constantly deny that they’re in a serious relationship. But the things they do for each other are very much worthy of true friendship. They give each other clothing during the harsh weather. They give each other comfort when the subject of Jared Gordon (Tuna’s father) is brought up. Tuna even has a miracle drug in her tote bag for Mickey Cray’s headaches, which he got from having a frozen iguana fall on his dome. As a reader, you want Wahoo and Tuna (who both have fishy names) to thrive as friends and get through their roughest times together. You also want them to have as many cute moments as possible. You’ll get everything you wanted and more within the confines of this book.

The last thing I’ll comment on is how convincing of a villain Jared Gordon is. You won’t see him for a long time in the story, but when he pops up, you know there’s going to be trouble. He’s constantly drunk, controlling to everyone he’s around, and he’s also carrying a loaded pistol with extra bullets. Giving Tuna a black eye is bad enough, but when he takes over this story, you’d better take him seriously. Throughout his time in the story, I kept wanting Jared to get his butt kicked in the worst way. He was so evil and disgusting that nobody would have missed him if he suddenly vanished off the face of the earth. If he was a professional wrestler, he would be the quintessential definition of a heel. You want him to get his comeuppance? Wait a while.

With a fast pace, ridiculous characters, and environmental know-how, Chomp definitely earned its passing grade, much like any other Carl Hiaasen book. He has easily become one of my favorite authors, so much so that I refer to him as my “go-to” option whenever I need a pick-me-up. Chomp in particular should be required reading in high school or college. Not only would it give the students a break from slow-paced literary claptrap, it would also fulfill their educational needs and instill common sense. Having common sense is really the highest education there is. Some people have it, others need it desperately. What do you say, teachers and principals? Will you take me up on my offer? I’m sure Mr. Hiaasen would appreciate that very much!

WWE Tough Enough

***BEFORE I BEGIN***

From now on, every piece of writing I do, whether it’s a short story, novel chapter, review, or blog entry, will be posted on ALL of my social media accounts, not just certain ones. A year ago, I made the decision to post my Garrison’s Library entries on Deviant Art. Why isn’t all of my writing on all of my accounts? That’s a lot of untapped potential that’s going to waste. This journal entry would normally be meant for Deviant Art, but why stop there? Enjoy!

　

***WWE TOUGH ENOUGH***

Every once and a while, my step-dad Dale will call upstairs to my room and tell me that WWE Tough Enough is on TV. Yes, it’s a WWE production and as everyone here knows, I can’t shut up about wrestling. But if there’s one show I try to avoid every time it comes on, it’s Tough Enough. If you’re not familiar with the show, it’s a reality TV competition where a bunch of rookies learn how to wrestle. Here’s why it’s called Tough Enough: because the trainers and judges have a boot camp mentality where screaming and insulting the competitors will eventually motivate them to do the right things in the ring.

It may be that there’s some truth in harsh motivation being good for an athlete or a combatant. But that doesn’t mean I enjoy watching it. In fact, watching the upper echelon scream their heads off at those below makes me feel uncomfortable. It reminds me of other relationships in life where there’s a ridiculous imbalance of power: bank robbers and hostages, rapists and women, drunken step-dads and small children, conformist teachers and imaginative students, etc.

Just one time during a boot camp scenario like this would I like to see some insubordination from the bottom tier. Maybe one of the competitors will get fed up with the trainers’ shit and throw a metal dumbbell at one of them. Maybe Paige (one of the judges) will tell someone to get off the stage and that someone will tell her to remove the A and E from her name. Maybe Daniel Bryan (another judge) will tell someone they have no charisma and that person will pull a pair of clippers out of his gym bag and shave Daniel’s beard off.

I’m sure insubordination has happened before on an episode of Tough Enough, but I wouldn’t know, because it’s a rare occurrence. Either the competitors are too scared of losing their spots or they have too much respect for authority. As long as there’s an overwhelming imbalance of power, it will keep me from watching Tough Enough or any other show with screaming authority figures. That being said, Full Metal Jacket makes me want to vomit.

You’ve gotten this far in my journal and have also read the entirety of Occupy Wrestling, my latest self-published novel. You probably feel like calling me out on a hypocrisy since at the end of Occupy Wrestling, Debra flies to Japan to train in a wrestling dojo where there’s absolutely no shortage of harsh motivation. The only reason I put that in the story is because I needed a believable reason for her to suddenly be good at fighting. I’ll tell you right now that just because it happens in my stories, I in no way endorse nor condone drill sergeant motivation. Maybe that’s because I myself would crack easily under pressure in such a situation because of my schizophrenia and autism. Harsh motivation may work for a lot of people, but that doesn’t mean I have to endorse it.

In short, if you’ve heard me talk about WWE and were wondering if I watch Tough Enough every week, the answer is no. It makes me feel vicariously bad for the competitors, especially since it’s unscripted. I also won’t be watching Summer Slam this year for two reasons. One, I’ve cancelled my subscription to the WWE Network due to it crapping out every time I want to watch a pay-per-view. And two, on that same day, I’m going to see Slipknot, Three Days Grace, Lamb of God, and a bunch of other metal bands perform at the White River Amphitheater. If the WWE wants me to watch their major shows, then I guess I’ll order a PPV through my cable provider and pay $50 for it. Granted, John Layfield will call me an idiot for doing so, but that just magnifies his status as an asshole commentator.

We’ve got ears, say cheers!

　

***WRESTLING JOKE OF THE DAY***

Q: Who is John Layfield’s favorite rapper?
A: Maggle-More.

Cheaters

TV SHOW TITLE: Cheaters

CREATOR: Bobby Goldstein

YEARS ACTIVE: 2000-present

GENRE: Reality Television

RATING: TV-14 for language, sexual content, and mild violence

GRADE: Mixed

Deep in the heart of Texas, the Cheaters Private Investigators go undercover as they try to catch their clients’ significant others cheating on their relationship with other partners. Each “story” starts with the client giving a brief description of his or her relationship issues and then the PI’s go on a camera stakeout of the cheating partner’s whereabouts.

After seeing the footage of infidelity, the client then is given the choice to confront his or her cheating paramour, to which they always say “yes”. Every confrontation is nasty, violent, and laced with censored swear words.

Let’s face it, the confrontations are the only real reason anybody watches the show. We like action and WWE and UFC won’t always come through for us. Unlike those two organizations, the fights on Cheaters aren’t even close to being graceful or athletic. Sometimes it’s a slap fight. Sometimes drinks are thrown. Most of the time, people just roll around on top of each other and throw haymakers.

It’s not Jackie Chan cinema, but it’s entertaining to watch nonetheless. It’s even more entertaining when these fights end up in the favor of the clients and not the cheating bastards he or she is confronting.

But sometimes it doesn’t always work out for the client and he or she gets an undeserved verbal or physical beat down. The reason this show gets a mixed grade is because the injustices happen way too often. One example is with the Trevor Olson case, where Trevor was really skinny and his girlfriend’s lover Sean was this hulking behemoth. Guess who won the shoving matches while having an over-inflated ego about it? That’s right: Sean.

The most infamous example of romantic injustice was with the Lily Santiago case, where the cheating husband shouted curses at her and the female paramour beat the crap out of her on live TV. Despite the mountain of evidence Lily had against her husband in a potential divorce case, the husband still had a massive ego and was still verbally abusive, which led me to believe he might have won the case.

Another issue that needs to be touched on is the revolving door of hosts for the show. First it was an unexciting bore named Tommy Grand. And then we had Joey Greco, who was full of puns, delightfully condescending to the cheating party, and protective and valiant toward his clients. Joey was such an awesome host that he got to do the show for a little over a decade before his hosting duties were turned over to Clark Gable III.

No, you didn’t read that wrong. The grandson of famous actor Clark Gable is now doing an unsophisticated piece of television called Cheaters. During the first season he did, Clark raised his voice and was generally annoying to listen to. The following seasons, he was too laidback and had no passion for his duties whatsoever. Maybe instead of asking “Scooby-Doo, where are you?!”, we should pose that question to Joey Greco.

In spite of the mixed grade I give this show, I continued to watch it with religious zeal. It was my Saturday night ritual: watching Cheaters with my best friend Susan as the two of us make fun of the dumb characters. We also like to poke fun at the commercials for Belviq that come on during the show, where the actors seem overly confused about their eating habits and then all of the sudden have an overactive social life after taking the pills.

This WAS our Saturday night ritual and then for some reason, Joe TV, a local Seattle channel, decided to stop showing Cheaters. My Roku won’t come through for me either. To say I’m having Cheaters withdrawal is an understatement. Come back, guys! Come back! I’ll raise your grade to Extra Credit if you do! I promise! Scout’s honor, even though I’m not a Boy Scout.