Vic Mackey from The Shield vs. Milo Yiannopoulos

 

America's Funniest Hardcore Violence

“Warning: the following program is rated TV-MA-LV. It contains strong language and graphic violence. It is intended for a mature audience. Good Intentions Productions does not endorse nor condone the displays of violence shown in this program and discourages the audience from recreating them. Enjoy the show!”

Good Intentions, my ass, thought Vanessa Rollins as she sat in the audience with folded arms and a death stare.

After the narrator got his disclaimers out of the way, two stage lights danced in front of the audience while a timpani drum-roll sounded off across the studio. The narrator’s voice boomed once again over the loudspeaker. “Ladies and gentlemen, who will take home the grand prize of one hundred thousand dollars? Who is the funniest? Who is the nastiest? Who is the goriest? Find out tonight! Live from the Preparation H Pavilion in Paulson City, it’s America’s Funniest Hardcore Violence!”

Everyone sans Vanessa (who shook her head) applauded once the happy trumpet music blasted and the stage illuminated. “And now, here is the host of AFHV: Colin “The Thrill” McGill!” The audience rose to their feet and applauded at their loudest when Colin McGill ran out onstage in his goofiest plaid suit and his cheesiest shit-eating grin.

“Thank you, thank you, everyone! Welcome, welcome, welcome!” greeted Colin as the audience sat back down. “Welcome to America’s Funniest Hardcore Violence: the show where everything is made up and the screams for help don’t matter. The screams are like…steak sauce in India!” The audience let out an “ooo” while Vanessa cradled her face in disgust.

“We’re not going to waste any more time, we’re going to get right to the final three entries in our AFHV tournament. Which one of these videos will take home the big money and fabulous prizes? Will it be…Fire in the Hulk?”

The video wall behind Colin McGill featured a look alike of WWE Hall of Famer Hulk Hogan bent over an ottoman, cheesy blond moustache, red and yellow latex suit, and dark sunglasses to boot. “Well, let me tell you something, brother!” shouted the impersonator. “Whatcha gonna do when Hulkamania blows his fecal matter all over you!”

With Hulk’s pants around his ankles and a dynamite stick poking out of his ass crack, the cameraman lit the fuse while the audience grinned widely with anticipation. Vanessa’s saucer-eyed horror seemed justified when the dynamite exploded. Hogan’s eyes crossed, he screamed in a gruff macho voice, and shit flooded from the brand new hole in his ass like a mudslide. The audience laughed their asses off while Vanessa Rollins held her hand over her mouth in shock. What the hell is wrong with these people? she thought.

“Our second entry of the night…”

Oh god, please no…

“Dead Motherfucker!” beamed Colin as the video wall came to life once again.

A young man stepped down from the sidewalk only to be slammed into by a honking car, sending him flying across the road…only to be hit by another car and sent flying again…only to be hit by a train and sent flying again…only to have his nose cut off by an in-transit helicopter’s propellers. The laughing audience was bad enough, but the money line came when the pilot smiled and said, “That’s one dead motherfucker!”

Vanessa held her ears closed to try in vain to block out the obnoxious chuckling among her fellow audience members.

“And our third entry for the night…Saw Blade! Meet the Saw Blade!”

The video wall showed a Fred Flintstone look alike bound to a torture table with a ball gag in his mouth. He was awakened by the grinding sound of a circular saw overhead, spinning and lowering towards the cartoon caveman. The audience hee-hawed while Fred struggled in his bindings and screamed in his He-Man voice. He managed to chew through the ball gag and yell, “WILMA!” like only he could. It was too late. The saw blade cut open Fred Flintstone’s stomach and revealed that he had blood in his Fruity Pebbles stream.

“And here I thought Fruity Pebbles was the nickname for his balls!” joked Colin McGill, which had the audience dying of laughter quicker than Fred Flintstone died of mutilation.

The one person who refused to laugh at all of this “dark comedy” was Vanessa Rollins, who after a while of tucking her head in her hands stood right up and yelled, “Is this what you people call comedy?! Watching people die in front of you makes you laugh?!” That quickly shut up the audience, watching her seethe with face-reddening anger.

“Well, look who’s come to spoil the fun for everyone. It’s the Sheriff of the PC Police! It’s the New York Time Waster! It’s the fake journalist from Cancer News Network also known as CNN! Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Buzz Kill Feed herself, Vanessa Rollins!” mocked Colin, which earned a round of boos directed toward the journalist.

Vanessa threw down her notepad and pen and bellowed, “This isn’t about political correctness! This is about basic human decency! People are dying so that you can have a ratings spike in your little show! That’s not comedy! That’s exploitation and it’s wrong! How have the police not arrested you and your production crew yet?!”

Straightening the breasts on his plaid jacket, Colin said, “Well, for starters, Miss MSNBC-Section, it’s not like I’m the one murdering these people. All I do is show the footage on the screen. Is it disgusting? Probably. But is broadcasting it illegal? Far from it. You media motherfuckers get away with it all the time when you show soldiers getting their limbs blown off overseas. Yeah, and I’m the one who needs a TV-MA rating. And speaking of which, Miss FCC-You-Next-Tuesday, a TV-MA rating is all I need to make sure nothing illegal is going on.”

Flailing her arms about in frustration, Vanessa said, “So that’s it? You need a TV rating to tell you what you can and can’t do on the air, let alone in the real world? How about if I punch you in the face and you can put an MA rating on that! It’s no worse than what you’re showing these people, if you want to call them that. Plus, since violence is so fucking hilarious, how about I help boost your ratings with a good clean shot right to your face?!”

Colin’s face transformed from comedic lightheartedness to sour anger as he threw his jacket on the floor and waved Vanessa over. “Go ahead, sweetheart! Come at me, Cluster Fox! Let’s see what you’re made of!”

Vanessa threw her own jacket down and fought her way through the audience to the side stairwell. She even kicked off her high heels knowing they would give her a disadvantage in a fight, although that didn’t stop some redneck from shouting, “Nice feet, bitch!” Before the journalist could respond, a child’s foot hooked her ankle and she tumbled down the stairs to the audience’s laughter as well as Colin’s.

Every part of Vanessa’s body ached with slash marks from hitting the stair corners and bruises from hitting the ground at such a high speed. The audience’s laughter buzzed in and out of her slogging mind, but the sadistic grin on the child’s face was what kept her awake through it all. “Is this…what…you’re teaching…your kids?” she managed to sputter out.

The tiny kid stood up in his seat and said, “Hey, I only tripped you! I didn’t take your clothes off!” Another burst of laughter poured from the audience’s sewer holes while Colin was slapping his thighs with comedic gold.

Tears welled up in Vanessa’s eyes while she grabbed the stair railing and poorly attempted to lift herself to her feet. She could have sworn her legs and ankles were broken, judging from how much agony wiggling her toes put her in. Every time she would grab the railing, she would fall off again and that would make the audience’s laughter even more grating than before. One last hurrah and she collapsed onto the floor ready to give up.

The laughter ended when a device fell out of Vanessa’s jacket pocket. Everyone thought she felt around her torso for broken ribs, but it was really to pull out something that stayed intact this whole time: a microphone and a wire. Instead of laughing, the studio went deathly silent with shock and awe.

“I…I…” Colin pulled a handkerchief from his pants pocket and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “I don’t understand. There’s no way my security team would let you in with that.”

Vanessa lifted her mangled head and smiled through crooked teeth. Spitting one of them out, she said, “Security? You mean the wanted thugs with criminal records a mile long? The ones I recorded feeling me up before I entered the building? Yeah, they’re taking the night off tonight…and the night after that…and the night after that…and the night after that…”

With the wire gathering enough information, Vanessa could finally plop her face down and allow the sounds of police boots to trample across the studio. To her it was like new age music putting her to sleep at night. She actually could sleep at night hearing the one sentence no criminal like Colin McGill wanted to hear: “You have the right to remain silent.” Except he didn’t remain silent. He bawled like a bitch on his way to the police van.

Violence, Blood, and Gore

VERSE 1
Enough of this G-rated garbage
Don’t cater to a flowery market
It’s time to put on our gloves
Fight like it’s all we ever love
Broken skulls, shredded flesh
Electric wire, steel cage mesh
Someone’s getting knocked out tonight
It’s a brutal battle, it’s an epic fight


CHORUS 1
Let’s see some violence!
Let’s see some blood!
Let’s see some gore!
Come get yourself some!


VERSE 2
I’m sick of this PG-rated sewage
I’m getting ready to fucking lose it
Beat some ass, smash some heads
One of us is going to end up dead
Swing that Singapore cane with style
Watch the bruises bleed for a while
Leaking with pus and other sickly stuff
This is what we are, this is what we love


CHORUS 2
Let’s see some violence!
Let’s see some gore!
Let’s see some blood!
Let’s beg them for more!


VERSE 3
TV-MA has gone out of fashion
Lost forever to violent passion
Rated-R Superstar falling far
Down like a brawler in a bar
NC-17, you must be dreaming
Triple X, you’re not steaming
Lost innocence doesn’t have a limit
Bloodthirsty warrior’s my only gimmick


CHORUS 3
Let’s see some blood!
Let’s see some violence!
Let’s see some gore!
Let’s break the silence!


HOOK
EC-dub, bitch! EC-dub!
Join the party! Join the club!
The janitors will clean and scrub
The bloody stains, puked up grub
This is what I call mortal combat
With a drunken brawler and a conman
Nobody gets out alive tonight
Lace up your boots, get ready to fight!

The Shield

TV SHOW TITLE: The Shield
CREATOR: Shawn Ryan
YEARS ACTIVE: 2002-2008
GENRE: Crime Drama
RATING: TV-MA for violence, language, and sexual situations
GRADE: Pass


The city of Los Angeles is plagued with crime whether it’s gang-related, corporate, or the work of a sadistic serial killer. With Detective Vic Mackey and his Strike Team on the case, the justice may be worse than the crime itself. Vic is not afraid to break the rules when it comes to catching criminals. He’s not above torturing suspects or even killing and intimidating other cops if it means closing a case or saving his own ass. Even under the hawk-like eyes of Captain David Aceveda and the scrutiny of his peers such as Detective Dutch Wagenbach and Officer Danielle Sofer, Vic Mackey manages to stay one step ahead of everyone else and leaves a trail of blood and broken bones in his wake.

Unlike crime dramas such as Castle, NCIS, Bones, and Rizzoli and Isles, The Shield takes the viewers to a much darker place where the humor is raunchy and the violence is graphic. As I’ve mentioned in the opening paragraph, Vic often tortures his suspects to get a confession or information to a bigger arrest. Over the course of the show, he has whipped a suspect with a chain, burned a suspect’s face on a stovetop, stabbed a cop killer with his badge, and in the first episode shot another cop named Terry Crowley because Terry was a rat within the Strike Team. Vic Mackey and his team are like police brutality on steroids. The more people complained against him and his tactics, the more bruises and scars those people got. It’s an endless stream of graphic beatings and torture until the city is safe again, at least from the original gangsters, but not Mackey.

As vicious as Vic can be, the things he did on the show will never compare to what happened to David Aceveda in the third season of the show. David is investigating the home of a Mexican gangster named Juan Lazano. Juan jumps David from behind, binds his hands with a TV cord, and orally rapes him while Juan’s buddy is filming the whole thing with a smart phone. The sodomy was disturbing enough, but it was the ongoing trauma, family dissention, and blackmail David experienced afterwards that made The Shield hard to watch. When it comes to TV-MA-rated shows, I’m not a wimp by any stretch of the imagination, but even David Aceveda’s oral rape storyline was enough to shake me to my core.

If you strip away all of the torture, forced sex, limb chopping, burnings, and blood, you still have a well-written detective show. Yes, all of that hardcore and disgusting content is good for the Nightmare Fetishists out there, but The Shield isn’t just about violence and brutality; it has substance. It asks the bold question of whether or not the ends justify the means and how far we’re willing to trust the government to protect us when they commit questionable acts. Police brutality is an ongoing problem even in today’s world; just ask the families of Michael Brown and Eric Garner. The Shield does what all forms of media should do: it holds a mirror up to society and shows everyone its ugliest features. The show doesn’t glorify police brutality; it questions it. And by the end of the series, everybody on that show gets what they deserve whether it’s for better or worse.

But sometimes all you want from a detective show is a solid series of cases where the police work is intelligent and the laws and techniques are well-researched. You’ll get all of those things with The Shield. Shawn Ryan wasn’t just putting together a montage of beatings; he was putting together solid cases that real police officers and detectives would have to solve using their sharp investigative skills. Even Vic Mackey and his Strike Team are capable of using smart investigative tactics; otherwise, they wouldn’t be detectives.

All in all, The Shield is the complete package that a detective show is supposed to have. The only things that separate it from other shows is its dark nature, it’s bold statements, and its TV-MA rating. The show was revolutionary in more ways than TV being allowed to use the word “shit”, which is why it deserves a passing grade.

　

***TELEVISION DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***

VIC MACKEY: Do you want to catch this criminal or not?

DAVID ACEVEDA: Going undercover as dirty cops. You guys think you can pull that off?

VIC MACKEY: We can try.

-The Shield-

Real Time with Bill Maher

TITLE: Real Time with Bill Maher

GENRE: Political Debate and Comedy

RATING: TV-MA for strong language

GRADE: Depends on the episode

As I write this review for my lovely audience, I don’t want any of you to think this is me putting the boots to Bill Maher. I have a lot of respect for him both as a comedian and as a political commentator. In case you haven’t figured it out from my internet postings over the years, I have very strong liberal beliefs. In 2004, I voted for John Kerry and in 2008 and 2012, I voted for Barack Obama. Naturally, I agree with the things Bill Maher says almost 90% of the time. I especially enjoyed what he had to say about the recent police brutality incidents going on all over the country.

As far as his talk show goes, it’s not Bill Maher himself who makes or breaks each episode. It’s his fucking guests. Some episodes, his guests are polite and have great conversational chemistry together, and that goes for both liberal and conservative guests. Despite being on the opposite side of the political fence as him, I actually think Steve Schmidt, John McCain’s campaign advisor, carries himself in a calm, intelligent, and respectful way and having him on the show is always good to see.

And then there are those episodes where the guests are at each other’s throats like it’s an episode of WWE Smackdown. You know the guests I’m talking about: always interrupting each other, always talking loudly, always saying rude shit, and in some cases always taunting the audience. Does anybody remember the episode where Christopher Hitchens flipped off the audience? How about the ones where Dana Rorabacher created a sonic boom with his dialogue alone.

While it is true there are more rude conservative guests than liberal ones, there are liberal guests who are capable of holding Bill Maher’s show hostage. Gary Schandling answered his fucking cell phone in the middle of a political discussion. Roseanne Barr had more dialogue in one show than most guests have in multiple episodes. The biggest example of a show hostage taker is one I know I’m going to regret saying, mostly because he recently committed suicide. I’m talking about Robin Williams, who on one episode interrupted everybody with random jokes and committed the mortal sin of interrupting Bill Maher’s New Rules segment.

Bottom line: it’s not just being liberal or conservative that can make a guest annoying. It’s the way that guest presents himself on television to an audience who really just wants to see Bill Maher pop off jokes. The problem with his show is most of the time he invites crazy guests who destroy the whole night for the audience. At that point, I’m not even sure if New Rules can make me laugh since I’m too angry from all the fighting among the guests.

Mr. Maher, I’m not saying this to be mean to you, I’m saying it to you as a fan and hopefully a friend someday. Have a filter for the people you invite on your show. Dana Rorabacher already ruined one show with his shrill screaming, so don’t bother inviting him back on the set. I could also tell you were getting sick of SE Cupp’s ageist jokes when you had PJ O’Rourke as the final guest. You probably invite these lunatics on your show as a way to boost ratings. Trust me, Bill, this is not the way to get high ratings. If you want a pro-wrestling example of bad TV gone even worse, I’ve got three letters for you: WCW.

"Red Blood, White Knuckles, Blue Heart" by Garrison Kelly

All of this reading of quick novels had to lead somewhere. For me, it lead to me publishing my first book on Lulu.com under the penname Garrison Kelly. It’s an anthology of my best work called “Red Blood, White Knuckles, Blue Heart”. You’re probably wondering why I chose to publish under a penname instead of Garrison Haines-Temons. It has nothing to do with my need for privacy, though that would be nice. To be honest, the name Kelly is harder to butcher than Haines-Temons. Throughout school, I’ve been called “Hynes-Tea-Moans”, “Hainees-Tee-muns”, and a bunch of other weird names that are obviously a product of linguistic ignorance. I used to embrace the idea of having a page in my books that told people how to pronounce my name, but I opted not to since Kelly is a more attractive last name anyways. But if you still want to know how my last name is pronounced, here it is. Haines rhymes with “chains” and Temons rhymes with “Simmons”. I know it seems weird that the E in Temons would be pronounced like a short I, but trust me, that’s how it’s said. Temons is a very old Gaelic name. It looks strange, but it’s pronounced only one way. Same thing goes for the name McLeod. It’s not pronounced “Mick-Lee-Uhd”. It’s pronounced “Mick-Loud”. I chose the name Garrison Kelly because it’s easy to say and we don’t have to have a debate over how it’s said. You’re probably wondering why I chose to talk about my last name instead of the actual anthology I’ve published. The answer is simple: if you want to know what to expect from my book, go to the link provided and read either the description or the back cover. I’ll warn you right now that none of these stories, letters, and poems are intended for the squeamish. I don’t do TV-G stuff except for on very rare occasions. This is not one of those occasions. There’s a reason why there’s a TV-MA logo on the American flag book cover. And yes, that is my older brother with the knife in his mouth. I took that photo of James back in 2006 and thought he would make a great Waldo Spiegel, one of the characters in the book. You’re probably wanting the link right about now. Okay, here it is. Happy reading!

　
http://www.lulu.com/shop/garrison-kelly/red-blood-white-knuckles-blue-heart/paperback/product-20672921.html