Jules Winnfield (Pulp Fiction) vs. Stone Cold Steve Austin (WWE): "WHAT?!"

 

HEY, HEY, HEY! We Got Another Hollywood Reboot!

 

Vincent Vega from Pulp Fiction vs. Sheetal Awchar: "It's the Same Ballpark"

 

Pulp Fiction: What Does Donald Trump Look Like?

 

Butch Coolidge from Pulp Fiction vs. The Quartering: Happy Belated Pride Month!

 

Maynard from Pulp Fiction vs. Todd Akin (Rest in Piss, Teabagger!)

 

Jules Winnfield from Pulp Fiction vs. Tim French

 

His last name is French, but he doesn't know why France calls it a Royale with Cheese instead of a Quarter Pounder.

Marcellis Wallace vs. Zed (Rest in Peace, Peter Greene)

 

The Marsellus Wallace Speech: AEW Edition

 (OOC: I read a blog post today about how Marsellus Wallace's speech to Butch in Pulp Fiction can be applied to any relatable scenario, so I did a parody myself, just like the author did. Ready? Here we go:

We fade in on Bryan Danielson, a 44-year-old pro-wrestler who’s one broken neck away from being confined to a wheelchair. He sits across the table wearing a plain white T-shirt (because he doesn’t believe in consumerism). Sitting on the opposite side off screen is Tony Khan, the Head Honcho at All Elite Wrestling, where Bryan works. Tony sounds like a cross between a delusional billionaire and a giddy fanboy.

TONY (O.S.)

What do you think you’re gonna find when your decades-long career is over? I think you’re gonna find yourself one broken down, sad-ass motherfucker. The thing is, Bryan, you have a shitload of five-star matches. But as painful as it may seem, five-star matches won’t save your life, and yours is over the minute you take another bump. That’s a hard motherfucking fact of life, and it’s one your ass is gonna have to get realistic about. The wrestling business is filled to the brim with unrealistic motherfuckers who say they’re gonna retire but never do. Motherfuckers who thought their asses would age like wine. If you mean it turns to vinegar like Ric Flair and Chris Jericho, it does. If you mean it gets better with age like R-Truth and Trish Stratus? It don’t. Besides, Bryan, how many five-star matches do you got left in you? Two? Wrestlers don’t have an Old-Timer’s League. It was called Heroes of Wrestling and it sucked ass. You came close, but you made it only a handful of times. If you were gonna make it again, you would have done it already. 

Tony holds release papers just out of Bryan’s reach.

TONY (O.S.)

You actually gonna retire this time?

BRYAN

Certainly appears so.

Bryan takes the release papers from Tony’s hand.

TONY

Night of your final retirement speech, you’re gonna feel a slight sting. That’s pride fucking with you. Fuck pride! Pride only hurts, probably about as bad as Jon Moxley suffocating you with a plastic bag. It never helps. You gotta fight through that shit. ‘Cause a year from now when you’re at home banging Brie Bella and hanging out with your two kids Birdie and Buddy, you’re gonna say to yourself, “Tony Khan was right”, which is something I hear from Dave Meltzer pretty much regularly. 

BRYAN

Yeah, me too.

TONY

At AEW Revolution, you job to Jon Moxley. Say it.

BRYAN

At AEW Revolution, I job to Jon Moxley.

The original blog post: https://www.kingdomoffailure.com/post/f-ck-pride-it-only-hurts-it-never-helps

Inglorious Basterds

MOVIE TITLE: Inglorious Basterds

DIRECTOR: Quentin Tarantino

YEAR: 2009

GENRE: War Movie

RATING: R for violence, language, and sexual content

GRADE: Mixed

With all the political tension in today’s world, who wouldn’t want to escape into a world of Nazi-slaying fun? Cutting off their scalps, beating them with a bat, shooting them up, burning them down, if there’s a way to kill a Nazi in World War II, Aldo Raine and his troops will make it happen. You know who else will make it happen? A lone Jewish woman named Shosanna whose family was slaughtered by the Nazi war machine. That’s a lot of vengeful desires from anybody not involved in the Third Reich. There’s no possible way that this movie could be anything but perfect, right? Well, that’s where Quentin Tarantino’s biggest fault comes into play: sometimes his movies drag on for an excruciatingly long time. Inglorious Basterds was no exception to that rule. I realize a movie can’t be all action and no drama, but the reverse is also true if the idea is to make a revenge flick: it can’t be all drama and too little action. Some of the chapters could have been cut short and it wouldn’t have hurt the movie in any way, especially the chapter where the Nazis play the card game at a bar. If you want your bloodthirsty fun, you’ll have to get in line like everyone else.

But when you get exactly what you wanted out of this film, it’ll be exactly as you expected. The outcome of the story was never in doubt for even a second. Aldo Raine and his troops are overpowered in spite of the fact that some of them get killed along the way. Shosanna’s own plans for revenge are so brilliant that detailed that no German soldier could possibly crack her code. Everything that could go right in this movie did go right…except for the element of surprise for the audience. I guess when the genre is described as a “revenge flick”, it doesn’t leave much to the imagination. No serious detective work has to be done. But can I at least believe for one small minute that the good guys have a chance of losing? Having a few of their soldiers killed vulnerability does not make. I want to see some flaws. I want to see some cracks in the world’s most impressive plot armor. Maybe if the German propaganda machine took these kinds of notes, their films wouldn’t look so ridiculous on screen.

If you think this review is going to be a nonstop bash-fest, you’re wrong. It was enjoyable for what it was. Quentin Tarantino’s dialogue will always deliver no matter what the genre of his movies. The subterfuge his characters engage in is also an impressive feat that required an extraordinary amount of creativity. Above all else, however, I must give my highest praise to the character work of Hans Lander, the Nazi colonel nicknamed the “Jew Hunter”. No, I’m not condoning his belief system, just his villainy. Whenever he interrogates someone, he knows he’s got his victims by the throat. He purposefully tiptoes around the answers he receives to give his liars a false sense of hope. I’d call this a perfect game of cat and mouse…if the cat had drill bits for fangs, battleaxes for claws, and venom for drool. I’d dare say that Hans is even more intimidating and dangerous than his boss Hitler himself. He’s so believable as a villain that he can almost negate my earlier point of the outcome being too predicable. Key word being almost.

It wouldn’t be fair to call Inglorious Basterds my least favorite Quentin Tarantino movie, because all in all I did enjoy it. Having a least favorite Tarantino movie is like having a least favorite flavor of ice cream: in the end, it’s still ice cream and it’s still going to be more delicious than the creamy strudel Shosanna and Landers shared in the high scale restaurant. This movie gets a mixed grade from me, but it’ll be a high mixed, which means three-and-a-half stars out of five. In the interest of being decisive and honest, I’ll round it down to a solid three. Being average doesn’t have to be a bad thing, right?

Old Stories, New Genres

***OLD STORIES, NEW GENRES***

Ever since watching and reviewing Jackie Brown and The Hateful Eight, I made it my mission to do the same thing for all of Quentin Tarantino’s movies. One of those movies I plan on watching happens to be Django Unchained. You’ve already heard the name Quentin Tarantino and are probably expecting some controversy to come with these movies. You wouldn’t be wrong no matter what the movie was, but it’s especially true for Django Unchained. Fellow director Spike Lee vowed not to watch it, because, “Slavery was not a spaghetti western. It was a holocaust.” Nobody in their right mind would ever dispute how horrible black slavery was. But that’s not why we’re gathered here today, my dearly beloveds.

Looking at old stories through the lens of a new genre happens to be what most successful storytellers do for a living. In the case of Django Unchained, Quentin Tarantino did indeed turn slavery into a spaghetti western. Ever since watching The Hateful Eight (which is definitely a western, but I’m not sure if it’s a spaghetti western), I’ve had a weird fascination with the genre. Hell, a few weeks ago, I wrote a southern metal song called Spaghetti Western, which you can check out on all of my social media pages (Blogger, Deviant Art, Face Book, and Good Reads). Cheap plug aside, Quentin Tarantino meant no ill will when he made Django Unchained. He gets a lot of heat for being insensitive, but the movies he directs take place in times and locations where insensitivity was the norm. Even in modern day dramas, he has characters using racial slurs, because it’s realistic of their characters, not because he’s a bigoted jerk.

But Quentin Tarantino movies are just one example of what I’m talking about today. Remember all of the talk about SJW’s “ruining” the Star Wars franchise? Well, I hate to break it to you guys, but Star Wars was always about social justice. It’s literally about rebels fighting against a totalitarian government. There are many instances of that happening all throughout history. Star Wars just happened to look at those moments through a science fiction lens with cool light saber battles and Storm Troopers who can’t shoot straight. It was true for A New Hope (which came out in the late 70’s) and it’s still true today. The message hasn’t changed. The complaints have.

And just to show you guys how serious I am about this brand of creative fuel, if any of you know anything horrible about my past and want to look at those life moments through the lens of a new genre, I’d be thrilled to read what you’ve got. You know something about me being bullied in my freshman year of high school? Let’s turn that shit into an epic fantasy! I wouldn’t mind fighting against orc and ogre bullies with a battleaxe or a claymore. What about the time I first started having schizophrenic symptoms? Let’s turn it into…whatever the hell The Matrix is! Hell, I was probably living in The Matrix the whole time I was hallucinating. What about the time I got suspended from college for writing an angry poem about my geology teacher? Is there any way to turn that into wrestling fiction? A spaghetti western? A space opera? Cyberpunk? Actually, cyberpunk would be closer to the truth since I was dumb enough back then to post my poem on the internet.

I understand that Spike Lee is proud of his heritage as well he should be. He should fight for the greater good. He should be an inspiration to all. But picking fights with Quentin Tarantino when he hasn’t even seen the damn movie? Not cool. That won’t help his image in the slightest. Like I said before, I haven’t watched Django Unchained yet, but I desperately want to as part of my quest to fairly review all of Quentin Tarantino’s movies. The key word in that last sentence was fairly, as in I want to give them a chance before I harshly judge them. Does he constantly lay golden eggs? No. Are there parts of his movies worth criticizing? Absolutely. But I can’t make those criticisms until after I see the movie. Even if I DNF the damn thing somewhere in the middle, that’s better than jumping to conclusions any day of the week.

What about you guys? Are there any old stories you want to see through a new genre? Should the Final Fight franchise be told through prehistoric times? Should the Star Wars franchise be told through medieval fantasy? Me personally, I’ve always wanted to see the Gundam franchise get a medieval fantasy reboot. One of the giant robots could be a paladin. Two of them could be smaller robots piloted by goblin twins. Space travel would still be possible and goddamn, does that open up a whole universe of possibilities with storylines and creative fuel. Yes, this was a real idea I had back in my teens. I never followed through on it, because…reasons? Now that I think about it, I’d still like to try this idea out someday, but I can’t use the word Gundam unless I want the copyright whores to strangle my ass in court. But what about you guys? Got any genre remixes you’d like to see?

I’m Garrison Kelly! Until next time, try to enjoy the daylight! Hey, there’s another idea! I could retell Tales From the Dark Side episodes through a medieval fantasy lens! Maybe for once it wouldn’t be so fucking hokey that way! Woo-hoo! Yeah!

***BEAUTIFUL MONSTER***

So…I haven’t been very faithful with updates from this novella I’m working on, so here goes nothing. I finished the most recent rewrite back in July, but I didn’t pay for Hollow Hills to critique it until early November. I got my critiques back at the beginning of December. Goddamn, do I have a lot of work ahead of me. The world needs to be fleshed out, the battle and sex scenes need to be toned down, and most importantly…the protagonists have to STOP CRYING ALL THE FUCKING TIME! Okay, Marie Krepps didn’t put it in those words. Plus, I’m prone to exaggeration. But the sentiment is the same. I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me before Beautiful Monster is ready for the public. I don’t have a due date for when it’ll be officially published. I thought it would have been this year, but I was too optimistic. And if you think I’ve got a lot to do for Beautiful Monster, just remember…I still have Emilio & Marigold in the chamber!

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“Who do you think you are? You’ve now gone much too far. Out of the ashes a clear light will shine. A power like the sun, but the heat is all mine. Blinding to all those too close to the light. I’ll bury your souls in the dark of the night. Underground you’ll make no sound. Got nowhere left to go. Things begin, but then they end. The truth it hurts to know. I watch with wonder as you go under. Words to the unwise. The story’s ending and I’m attending the scene of your demise. I bring the darkness. I am the thunder. I come from Hell and I’ll pull you under. I’ll make you feel the wrath of my ways. I’ll make it real. I’ll be your end of days.”

-Baron Corbin’s WWE Theme Music-

***POST-SCRIPT***

Don’t let the lyrics fool you. I’m still abstaining from watching WWE due to their awful programming and I’m not regretting it. Last week on Friday Night Smackdown, Baron Corbin smothered Roman Reigns in dog food. Get it? Because Roman Reigns calls himself The Big Dog? Woof, woof? Hahahahaha…haha…ha…Fuck this company.

Assuming Everyone Is a Villain

***ASSUMING EVERYONE IS A VILLAIN***

My childhood was far from perfect (high school be damned), but one thing I’ll always cherish about my young past is doing Final Fantasy-style role-plays with my California friend Lance. We used Lego mini-figures to act out these scenes because they were just as tiny as the sprites in Final Fantasy IV and VI for the Super Nintendo. We battled indestructible giants together. We blew up entire space fortresses. We had adventures that would solidify and enhance our creativity well into adulthood. Anytime I get the chance to exercise my creativity, I’m one happy motherfucker, which is why I’m writing this blog entry right now.

As fun as those times in my life were, there was always something about our role-plays that confused me just a little bit (no, this isn’t me putting the boots to Lance, so settle down, everyone). More often than not, one of Lance’s heroic characters would attack ordinary strangers because he didn’t know what alignment they were. In other words, he assumed they were evil long before he had the chance to get to know them. Not very heroic behavior, in my opinion. But it is worth examining, because even now as an adult with a Bachelor’s in creative writing with a minor in theater arts, this idea could still hold weight in today’s world.

One way in which prejudging could work for the protagonist is if he’s paranoid. Just because you’re paranoid, doesn’t mean the world isn’t out to get you. That’s how delusional thinking works. I know this because during my earliest bouts of schizophrenia in 2002, I too assumed everyone was a villain, whether they were friends, family, strangers, or natural enemies. I had this delusion that the whole world was conspiring to conform me into someone I’m not. Any small sign of obedience on my part meant that my “conspirators” had a permanent victory. My behavior was erratic and I made a few enemies along the way because of it.

But schizophrenic delusions aren’t the only way in which a paranoid person could assume everyone is a villain. The protagonist could instead have PTSD, where the flight or fight mechanism in the brain is working overtime to make the sufferer hyper-vigilant. PTSD can happen for any stressful reason whether it’s bullying, sexual harassment, rape, war, or whatever. People with extreme cases of PTSD have a hard time letting others into their bubble. Who could blame them? They don’t want to be triggered by someone’s distrustful ways. And when I say triggered, I’m not using the alt-right definition of it where they completely wipe their ass with the word.

Not all paranoid protagonists have to have mental illnesses, though. Sometimes they’re not paranoid, but simply distrustful. They won’t beat the shit out of people with unknown alignments, but they could distance themselves from those strangers. They could be fiercely independent in their work life. They could be a Single Pringle. They could isolate themselves from the world around them, though if they did that, it could lead to depression or other mental illnesses. Distrustful protagonists have been around since forever and with the proliferation of violent literature, why wouldn’t they be? It’s a kill or be killed world out there.

As children, Lance and I had confusing plot holes in our role-plays, I’ll admit. Why would a fifty foot giant need a temple to keep him indestructible? Why would the heroes live in an island cellar with nothing to do but lay in bed? Why would a space fortress need to regenerate itself if it’s already a powerful and elaborate structure? As silly as some of these predicaments were, they did help us develop our storytelling skills to where they are today. Yes, I was confused by the constant attacks on strangers with unknown alignments, but I have a better understanding of it today.

Writers and storytellers have a tendency to look at their past works and cringe in self-judgment. While some of that cringing is justified in our advanced age, some parts of our past are worth analyzing if for no other reason than to exercise our skills. We see our mistakes of the past and we now have a better understanding as to why they’re mistakes. We can’t take everything from our past and transpose it into our adult careers, but without that past, we have no future. Whoever said, “The one thing we learn from history is that we learn nothing from history” was referring strictly to world politics and not creative journeys.

Lance and I lead very separate lives in today’s world. Our belief systems are different. I live in Washington while he lives in California. He’s got his own projects while I’ve got mine. But we still have our creative pasts in common and for that I will forever cherish our friendship no matter how far into the future we are. Thank you, Lance, for helping me become the writer and storyteller I am today. Every artistic journey starts somewhere and it was an honor to start it with you. I’m Garrison Kelly! Until next time, try to enjoy the daylight!

***CURRENT PLANS***

I’ve got a lot going on in my creative schedule, so let me bring you all up to speed. I finally put together the manuscript for Beautiful Monster’s third draft and it’s well on its way to being critiqued by the fine folks at Hollow Hills. All they need from me now is my payment and some time to work on it. As far as short stories go, my next one will be called Butterscotch and it’s yet another tribute to a former animal of mine. Butterscotch was a tiny kitten when he leapt out at me and my brother in the middle of a nighttime walk in 2003. I still miss him to this day, just like all of my former animals. I’m sure you guys have also noticed I’m posting reviews again, my most recent ones being of “In the Presence of Knowing” by Valarie Savage Kinney and the Quentin Tarantino movie “Jackie Brown”. If I can figure out how to fix the fucking TV’s sound quality, my next review will be of another Tarantino classic, “Inglorious Basterds”. If not, I’ll just stick to reading my next book, “Souls of the Reaper” by Markie Madden, which is the second in her Undead Unit series. I don’t have anything else to report, so wish me luck!

***MOVIE DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***

ALPHONSE: If I ever find the person who’s doing this to me, I’m going to make him beg for mercy.

VICTOR: I don’t think he’s going to beg for mercy.

ALPHONSE: He wouldn’t get it anyways.

-Dead Man Down-

Jackie Brown

MOVIE TITLE: Jackie Brown

DIRECTOR: Quentin Tarantino

YEAR: 1997

GENRE: Crime Drama

RATING: R for violence, nudity, and language

GRADE: Pass

LAX flight attendant Jackie Brown is busted by the police for smuggling cocaine and money across the Mexican border. Facing up to five years in prison, the only way out of doing hard time is by ratting out the gun dealer whom the money was supposed to go to, Ordell Robbie. As a sting operation is set up to smuggle the rest of the money out of Mexico, it isn’t always clear who’s double-crossing who. Will Jackie take off with the money herself? Will she stay true to the police or to Ordell? She has the know-how and seductive nature to pull off any deal she wants. Can she do it without getting shot or sent to jail permanently?

First and foremost, the show-stealer of this movie was Samuel L. Jackson as he portrayed Ordell Robbie. His dialogue was delivered naturally and believably. His swearing wasn’t forced at all. He carried himself like the crime lord he was supposed to be. The audience will either be intimidated or thoroughly entertained by Mr. Jackson’s antics (why not both?). However, one of the biggest criticisms this movie got was how frequently the N-word was used by him. To those critics, I say chill out. Quentin Tarantino didn’t write it in the script so many times because he wanted to push a racist agenda. In the criminal underworld, it sounds completely natural, especially coming out of Samuel L. Jackson’s mouth at a hundred miles per hour. This is one instance in cinema history where it’s cool to root for the villain.

Speaking of dialogue, that happens to be one of Quentin Tarantino’s strong suits as a filmmaker and it shows in this movie. While Samuel L. Jackson stole the show, every other cast member could be credited with bringing a believable story to life with their dialogue alone. It could be Pam Grier talking about getting old and starting over again. It could be Bridget Fonda having a casual chitchat with Robert De Niro. It could be Robert Forster talking about how much he hates his job (while still delivering his dialogue like a true professional bondsman). Whether it’s mundane conversation or it actually advances the story, you’ll want to keep your ears open the whole way throughout this movie. It certainly makes up for the oftentimes slow action sequences in between.

If I have one criticism for this movie, it’s that the storyline mechanics were hard to piece together at times. I’m not talking about the audience constantly guessing who Jackie Brown is going to double-cross, that part I’m okay with. I’m talking about keeping up with how the final transaction of Mexican money is supposed to go down. I’m talking about all the ways it went wrong. I’m talking about the climax of the movie and why it couldn’t have happened sooner. I understand that Quentin Tarantino loves his complex storylines, but too much complexity can take the audience out of the viewing experience, especially if things don’t click together by the end credits. But this is a minor criticism at best, so don’t let it discourage you from watching this movie.

I’ve always known that Quentin Tarantino was a master storyteller the minute I watched Pulp Fiction. Watching his other movies, this one included, proves his mantle over and over again. Jackie Brown didn’t feel formulaic. It felt fresh and new despite the fact that it was released in 1997. I hope to one day watch Mr. Tarantino’s entire collection of movies and give them all high praise. But for tonight, Jackie Brown gets a solid four out of five stars.

The Hateful Eight

MOVIE TITLE: The Hateful Eight

DIRECTOR: Quentin Tarantino

YEAR: 2015

GENRE: Western Thriller

RATING: R for violence, swearing, nudity, and rape

GRADE: Pass

A blizzard hits Wyoming in the middle of bounty hunter John Ruth transporting his $10,000 captive Daisy Domergue to Red Rock to be executed. After his stagecoach picks up two extra passengers along the way, Major Marquis Warren and Sheriff Chris Mannix, the travelers are forced to hunker down in a lodge together with other suspicious characters until the blizzard passes over. As the strangers get to know each other, not everyone can keep their stories straight and it leads to paranoid distrust. Bodies begin piling up until their paranoia tapers, which means Daisy’s chances of escaping execution increase even more.

Just like with any other Quentin Tarantino movie, every character is developed through realistic, gritty, and vulgar dialogue. It’s not just cursing and slurs for the sake of edginess. Everything said in this movie has a purpose and nothing goes to waste. This is especially true when Marquis is telling old man Sandy Smithers how the latter’s son died at the former’s hands. It’s also true when John Ruth tells stories about how he prefers to hang his bounties rather than give them an easy route to death. And it’s true again when Chris Mannix brags about his father’s renegade army of confederate remnants fighting for a dying cause. None of the characters’ back stories or present actions make them appear sympathetic, I’ll admit, but if we were meant to sympathize with them, the movie wouldn’t be called the Hateful Eight. This is classic Tarantino storytelling at its apex.

I also must commend the musicianship of Ennio Morricone, who provided most of the soundtrack for this movie. Whenever a feeling of impending doom or hard justice needs to be experienced by the audience, Morricone’s music will make them believe in the brutality they’re seeing onscreen. He has a legendary track record of providing fantastic scores for western movies, so recruiting him was a natural fit on Tarantino’s part. I’m not sure if the Hateful Eight’s soundtrack has been released as a CD or digital album, but if it hasn’t, then it’s a crime. Classical music never goes out of style and even if it did, it can always be revived by conductors like Morricone.

Tarantino movies could be criticized for dragging themselves out too long or being overindulgent in their exposition through dialogue, but in the case of the Hateful Eight, I don’t agree with that sentiment at all. Everything had its place. Every conversation had its own feeling of drama and excitement. If you watch Tarantino movies just for the brutality, you might have to wait a while, but it’ll be worth it in the end. Think of the conversations as the slow build and the violence as the major crescendo in a symphony of masterful filmmaking. I wouldn’t lump John Ruth punching and elbowing Daisy in with that symphony since it was disturbing to watch and out of context it would make John Ruth look like a jerk. Yes, your butt will go numb as you go through this two and a half hour long masterpiece, but when you’re kicking it in the Caribbean, you’ll be saying to yourself, “Marcellus Wallace was right.” Wait a minute, wrong movie! But you get the idea.

While this movie isn’t anything earth shattering, it is a piece of art to be admired and rewatched just to soak in the talents of everybody involved. Samuel L. Jackson was undoubtedly the show stealer when it came to the acting. Ennio Morricone’s music is always heaven on the ears. The story itself can be easily pieced together once the movie draws to its conclusion. All in all, there’s not much to complain about even with the lengthy screen time and the scenes where Daisy gets punched (despite the fact that she too is an unsympathetic villain). A passing grade will go to this modern day Tarantino classic!

Chainsaw Samurai

OPENING SCREAM

Chainsaw Samurai!

VERSE 1

Forget about your fucking dishonor

And focus on your eventual slaughter

Which one of your limbs must go first?

Your arms, legs, or German bratwurst?

Slice off your head, a mummified trophy

He opens your mouth and says, “Blow me!”

A bloodbath is coming from the Rising Sun

Violence and gore became a shit-load of fun!

CHORUS

Chainsaw Samurai!

It’s too late to beg and cry!

Enter the dragon, bitch!

Death is a business; he is rich!

VERSE 2

Hara-kiri has never been so easy

But the anxiety makes you queasy

He’ll choose for you; kick down your door

Squeeze every drop of blood from your pores

Chug your red juices like a bottle of sake

Chew your flesh with an appetite so sloppy

Dinner is served to the disgraced samurai

He’s hungry for more, get ready to die!

CHORUS

Chainsaw Samurai!

It’s too late to beg and cry!

Enter the dragon, bitch!

Death is a business; he is rich!

VERSE 3

The beast from the east has enjoyed his feast

And he doesn’t feel sorry in the fucking least

He’s going back to the Land of the Rising Sun

But his war with the world is far from done!

EXTENDED CHORUS

Chainsaw Samurai!

It’s too late to beg and cry!

Enter the dragon, bitch!

Death is a business; he is rich!

Kill Bill he fucking will!

He’ll cut quickly if you hold still!

Ninja Assassin, your life is passing!

“Who can stop him?” is what you’re asking!

CLOSING SCREAM

Chainsaw Samurai!

Pulp Fiction

MOVIE TITLE: Pulp Fiction

DIRECTOR: Quentin Tarantino

YEAR: 1994

GENRE: Crime Drama

RATING: R for violence, blood, frequent vulgar language, and sodomy

GRADE: Extra Credit

The overall Pulp Fiction story is a telling of four different crime stories and how by the end of the movie they all intertwine into one underbelly tale. The first quarter of the movie sees low-rent hit men Jules and Vincent retrieving a valuable briefcase for their boss Marcellus Wallace at the expense of the punk kids who stole it.

The second quarter sees Vincent taking Marcellus’ wife Mia out for dinner and dancing at Jack Rabbit Slims and then having to revive her after an overdose.

The third quarter sees heavyweight boxer Butch Coolidge double-crossing Marcellus and then having to secretly retrieve a valuable golden watch from his apartment.

The final portion of the story goes back to the first where Vincent accidentally shoots an informant in Jules’ car and the two of them need to get off the road for a while. Four tales of bloodshed, forced sex, and drug abuse; what else could you ask for in an R-rated crime drama?

There are many theories as to why Pulp Fiction isn’t shown chronologically. My personal theory is because of each character’s path to development. The further the movie goes, the more personal and profound the development.

The first story shows Jules and Vincent doing their job successfully and retrieving a stupid briefcase. It’s early in the story, so not a lot of development will take place.

The second story sees Vincent shooting adrenaline into Mia’s heart and the two of them going from being awkward strangers to the best of friends.

The third story sees Butch rescuing Marcellus Wallace from being sodomized in a pawn shop and the two of them resolving their differences.

But the fourth story, as in the middle of the chronology, is where Jules transforms from a heartless mafia grunt to a soldier of God and the spreader of peaceful messages. We start off with retrieving a stupid briefcase to a total heel to face turn, with some friendships made in the middle. It doesn’t get more developed than that.

The one element of the story that really turned this movie into a cult classic was the dialogue Tarantino wrote for each of his characters. The director grew up in the underbelly of society and absorbed a lot of the vulgar, racist, and sexual dialogue that was used by those criminals.

Criminals have no need for class or political correctness, so the dialogue is perfect for this movie. I’ve personally tried to adopt Quentin Tarantino’s style of speech into my own writing and it sounded sloppy. Mr. Tarantino is the master of what he does; often imitated, never duplicated.

Because of such colorful and creative language, Pulp Fiction is easily one of the most quotable movies of all time. To me and my family personally, quoting this movie is a tradition. There was even a time when I had the entire movie memorized.

Every conversation in this movie counted for something whether it was the sensuality of foot massages, the absence of a certain “sign” in front of Jimmy’s lawn, pigs being filthy animals and therefore inedible, or two rapist serial killers using a child’s nursery rhyme to randomly determine their next victim. If your ears aren’t open for this kick-ass dialogue, then you’re missing out on a huge portion of what makes this movie special.

After hearing everything that needs to be heard, do you at all feel like taking out your wallet (the one that says “Bad Motherfucker”) and forking over some cash to see this 90’s classic? Not only will you say “yes” one time, but you’ll watch this movie over and over again until every last word is etched in your mind and you can recite the whole thing by heart.

It should be no surprise that a movie with this much of a lasting effect would get an Extra Credit grade not only from little old me, but from every movie critic on the planet. That is, unless of course you have a 5^th grade point of view and are too grossed out by the sodomy in the third story (but are perfectly okay with Butch performing oral sex on his girlfriend).

Daniel McBride

As a writer, I draw inspiration from pretty much everything around me. Drawing inspiration from the movie Pulp Fiction as a teenager was probably not the best idea. Don’t get me wrong, Pulp Fiction is a badass movie and Quentin Tarantino will always be remembered for it. It’s just that Quentin Tarantino is really the only person qualified to write anything in his own style. I tried copying his style and it was a fucking disaster. That’s where we get the character Daniel McBride. The reason he’s called that is because I didn’t know at the time of creation there were already people named Danny McBride. I thought I was being original, but it turns out I’m not. You want to know what made Daniel so special? He used racial slurs despite not being a racist. He was first introduced in a Play By Web college RPG as a freshman art major. He got in a rivalry with another kid named Shawn Rawlins because Shawn’s player controlled Daniel’s actions and used him to trip Shawn accidentally. Folks, if you’re ever in an RPG, don’t control anybody’s character but your own. That’s a huge pet peeve of mine. But instead of complaining to the admin of the game, I tried to make lemonade out of lemons. Daniel tried apologizing to Shawn, but Shawn pulled a gun on him and shot him in the leg. Daniel then shouted a whole bunch of KKK jokes at him (Shawn was black) and got beaten up even further for it. That and the wannabe thug stole Daniel’s girlfriend away from him in the process. I can safely say I’ve never been traumatized by an RPG before that moment, so I left for greener pastures. Years later, Daniel McBride became a character in a movie I wrote called Pumping Filter, where his old rivalry with Shawn Rawlins was relived. Pumping Filter had a whole bunch of racial tension with no real reason for it. The way I justified it back then was the whole idea behind insulting someone was to get them angry and nothing made an opponent angry like an attack on their culture. As I got older, I realized that simply using those attacks is enough to be deemed racist and rightfully so. These days, my works don’t resemble Pulp Fiction on steroids. Quentin Tarantino was a staple of the criminal underworld, so he has all the tools he needs to write these kinds of movies. Me? I’m just a suburban white kid who had a generally easy life. But as it stands, Daniel McBride needs a new home, either as a college or high school kid. Maybe this time his martial arts skills will come in handy and he’ll actually win fights. His martial arts skills didn’t work too well in Pumping Filter and that college RPG. Can I really make chicken salad out of chicken shit and turn Daniel McBride into a respectable human being? I hope so, because my imagination is getting to be too lonely for him.

　

***JOKE OF THE DAY***

Q: What grades do racist skinheads get in school?

A: Not C’s.