Me running out of material

People am often curious about the Bizarro World. How can they not be,
it is a crazy place where everything is backwards! They ask
Bizarro Isaac many questions that Bizarro Isaac will now answer.

Q. If everything is backwards in Bizarro World, wouldn’t that mean
everything is actually the same, like a photo negative?
A. No. That is stupid question. Everything is crazy in Bizarro World.

Q. Why do Bizarros talk like that? Don’t you know basic grammar?
A. Of course Bizarro Isaac not know grammar! Regular Isaac talk normal. Me talk opposite of
normal, being Bizarro.

Q. Isn’t this sort of a limited gimmick? And one that has been heavily
explored by others in the past?
A. Me no understand this question. That is why it is my favorite.

Q. Do you hate Regular Isaac because he in normal, not a freak?
A. Yes. That is why me like him so much. It can be complicated being
a Bizarro.

Bizarro Isaac will answer no more questions because they are so much fun.

Me like lists

The IFB’s (Bizarro Film Institute) top 10 movie quotes of all time:

10. “Dang.” – My Dinner with Bizarro Andre
4. “Trout am nature’s deadliest predator” – Chill Factor
1. “It be dark soon.” — Bizarro Manos “The Hands of Fate”
7. “The” – The Bizarro Godfather
6. “Bizarro Tom Cruise had me at hello.” – Bizarro Jerry Maguire
3. “Aw, shit!” –Bizarro Casablanca
9. “The” – Bizarro Carrot Top in: Chairman of the Board
2. “Me-sa Am-sa Bizarro Jar Jar Binks!” – Star Wars Episode 8: Buy Some
Toys
5. “Ohhh! Me am dead the whole movie!” – The Sixth Sense
8. “We am the Bizarro Surf Ninjas.” – Bizarro Surf Ninjas

What a terrible list! Bizarro Isaac not know how they always do it!
Bizarro Isaac loves the IFB!

Bizarro Isaac has to go now. Me must get Bizarro Mr. Mxyztplk to say
name forward so that he will appear! It lucky me am bad at tricking!

Me am pundit!

On Bizarro World, everybody be following politics closely. We am always
learning about the issues and always am being careful to choose the worst
candidate.

Bizarro Congress just maked a law that says “everybody has to always
burn Bizarro flags.” Bizarro flags have white and blue stripes with
red stars! Bizarro Congress made the law terrible so that no one will
vote for them. This why we love politics on Bizarro World!

The Supreme Bizarro Court said that everybody must be given property!
We all am hating this law, so we all vote for them again.

Bizarro President Bush reduced the deficit, saved social Bizarro
security, protected reproductive rights, supported the Everybody Should
Get Married to be Miserable Act, protected our right to privacy, denounced torture and supported a free press. Everyone
hate him, him such good president.

Ha! Bizarro Isaac’s political commentary is not particularly subtle or
clever! That why it be so good!

Later, Bizarro Isaac will say why Bizarro Bush stupid for not making
pointless war in Bizarro Iraq.

Bizarro History am Exciting!

Me am back! You must be so happy. Me am sorry.

On Bizarro World everything is backwards! It is confusing and
internally inconsistent. Totally unlike the real world!

In Bizarro 1967, Bizarro JFK killed Bizarro Lee Harvey Oswald.
Everyone said “Oh what a great Bizarro President he am!” This made him
so sad that he asked his best friend Bizarro Jack Ruby to kill him.

Bizarro Hitler was the best painter on Bizarro World. Everybody loved
his paintings so much that they made him rule the world. But Bizarro
Hilter said fascism was bad and then he was frozen in a block of ice
fighting the evil Bizarro Captain America.

On Bizarro 9/11 we all ate ice cream!

Bizarro Isaac must go now. Me love working too much to blog.

Me am here all day

Today livejoural am being posted by Bizarro Isaac No.1. Do not worry,
Bizarro Isaac promise Bizarro Livejournal not be better!

Look at me. Me am very good writer! Bizaro Isaac’s journal is so clever, so
nobody read it. That make Bizarro Isaac happy.

Um. Blog blog blog blog blog. Blog blog blog. Livejournal is boring
and stupid! That is why Bizarro Isaac love the internet!

Oh, no! Bizarro Tessa is not in trouble! Bizarro Isaac must put her
in danger so that she will love Bizarro Isaac. Do not worry Bizarro
Tessa! Bizarro Isaac is coming!

The Maid of Might

There are different kinds of stupid.

In a alternate Earth, a hairy, altruistic Lex Luthor creates a shapechanging superhero in order to defend his planet from alien invaders. In honor of Superman, who once saved this pocket dimension Earth, Lex’s protoplasmic creature wears a modified Superman costume. Because he’s a horny guy, the creature looks like a blonde bombshell. Unfortunately for Pocket Earth, Lex puts too much emphasis on hotness and not enough emphasis on badassness. Pocket Earth is annihilated.

Matrix, as the proto-creature is named, survives, and is brought to Not-Pocket Earth. She is trained on how to fake being somewhat human by Superman’s parents. People call her Supergirl because she’s a girl who dresses like Superman. Later, she fuses with a dying Satanist, becoming, as so often happens in these cases, the Earth-Born Angel of Fire.

This is a stupid origin story.

Superman, once believed to be the only survivor of Krypton, discovers that he has a teenage cousin, who also survived the destruction of Krypton. She wears a belly shirt.

This is whole ‘nother bucket of stupid.

The first origin is ridiculous, overly complicated by a factor of four, and obvious bullshit. But it’s cool, it’s a comic book, whatever man. The second origin shits on the idea of even token plausibility, and tarnishes the mythicism of Superman.

Don’t get me wrong. I love the earnest absurdity of the Silver Age, but without a degree of realism and internal logic, you cannot tell stories of substance or complexity. Supergirl was killed, along with Krypto, Streaky, Comet and Beppo (Superdog, Supercat, Superhorse, and Supermonkey, respectively), for good reason. She never should have come back.

“The first recorded Historic Age of the planet Krypton begins.”

http://dcu.smartmemes.com/

Oh my sweet goodness, is this an awesome thing. Some megafanboy has compiled a comprehensive timeline of the DC Universe spanning a length starting before the beginning of time and going all the way through to the end of the universe. An indispensable resource for the dorkiest among us.

Excerpts:

c. 435 Million BCE
Swamp Thing, traveling through time (see 1995/Yr13), plants Yggdrasil the World-Tree, helping to establish “the Green” and the Parliament of Trees on Earth.

before 78,000 BCE
Krypton’s civilization enjoys a last flowering, a “golden age… [of] passion and wonder,” before settling into the cold stagnation of its final years.

1982
Arthur Curry Jr. (see 1980) happens across Paradise Island in his wanderings, where he meets a young (but mature!) Princess Diana, and offends the god Triton. Not long after, Arthur discovers the underwater city of Poseidonis—where he is imprisoned by the repressive government, until he escapes, triggering a revolt.

c. 34th Millennium
The Swarm defeated, J’onn J’onzz (see 14th Millennium) wanders aimlessly, gradually restoring his sense of self by becoming a philosopher and teacher. Then Darkseid attacks, conquering Mars; and “on the streets of the new Armagetto [comes] the final battle.” J’onn prevails, becoming one with the Source, and then with his homeworld itself.

Hey! Hollywood made a big budget Batman movie that was pretty good!

Sure, there were some problems. Casting Katie Holmes to play Harvey Dent was not a choice I would have made. Batman’s “don’t kill people” rule is applied in weird ways. And the climax was, well, not climatic.

But overall, Nolan (the director), Goyer (the co-screenwriter), and Bale (the guy in the pervert suit) knocked it out of the ballpark. This movie does a remarkable job of making the premise of Batman seem less stupid than it actually is.

The core story of Batman is the story of a screwed up guy who likes to scare people and then punch them. This movie is comfortable with this, and it presents a story about guilt, crime, vengeance and fear. The conflict driving the film isn’t Batman vs. The Outlandish Bad Guy. It’s Batman vs. Crime.

Bale does an excellent job of playing Bruce Wayne, the guy who acts like a boob so no one would think he’s competent enough to be Batman, and also Bruce Wayne, the haunted psychopath fueled by rage and willpower.

Michael Caine plays a much warmer, everyman Alfred than the typical take on the character, and it works for this story. Morgan Freeman’s Lucius Fox is a character that needed to exist before this movie. And every superhero movie should be legally required to have Rutger Hauer in it.

Even though Jim Gordon is not a supervillian, Gary Oldman is perfect in his role. Since Jim Gordon is my favorite character in superhero comics, this is high praise. Sadly, he is totally underused.

Katie Holmes cannot act well, and she is not physically attractive. Why is she in movies? Why, specifically, is she in this movie playing a character that should be played by a dude?

This movie is not without deep flaws. I would argue that Batman: Mask of the Phantasm is a better movie. And I’m unsure that they’ve got anywhere else to go in subsequent movies that will be as satisfying.   Still, this movie rocks pretty hard.

Originally published at The Triangle. You can comment here or there.

Hey! Hollywood made a big budget Batman movie that was pretty good!

Sure, there were some problems. Casting Katie Holmes to play Harvey Dent was not a choice I would have made. Batman’s “don’t kill people” rule is applied in weird ways. And the climax was, well, not climatic.

But overall, Nolan (the director), Goyer (the co-screenwriter), and Bale (the guy in the pervert suit) knocked it out of the ballpark. This movie does a remarkable job of making the premise of Batman seem less stupid than it actually is.

The core story of Batman is the story of a screwed up guy who likes to scare people and then punch them. This movie is comfortable with this, and it presents a story about guilt, crime, vengeance and fear. The conflict driving the film isn’t Batman vs. The Outlandish Bad Guy. It’s Batman vs. Crime.

Bale does an excellent job of playing Bruce Wayne, the guy who acts like a boob so no one would think he’s competent enough to be Batman, and also Bruce Wayne, the haunted psychopath fueled by rage and willpower.

Michael Caine plays a much warmer, everyman Alfred than the typical take on the character, and it works for this story. Morgan Freeman’s Lucius Fox is a character that needed to exist before this movie. And every superhero movie should be legally required to have Rutger Hauer in it.

Even though Jim Gordon is not a supervillian, Gary Oldman is perfect in his role. Since Jim Gordon is my favorite character in superhero comics, this is high praise. Sadly, he is totally underused.

Katie Holmes cannot act well, and she is not physically attractive. Why is she in movies? Why, specifically, is she in this movie playing a character that should be played by a dude?

This movie is not without deep flaws. I would argue that Batman: Mask of the Phantasm is a better movie. And I’m unsure that they’ve got anywhere else to go in subsequent movies that will be a satisfying. Ultimately, however, this movie rocks pretty hard.

Challenge of the GoBots: The Novelization

Hi. My name is Isaac. I am very lazy.

I like comics, such as Justice League International, and video games, such as Mario Tennis.

I value friendship and a sense of connection most of all. I like old buildings and trains and bridges. I am an urban animal.

I am an atheist by way of common sense, and a Discordian by way of whimsy. Five tons of flax.

I enjoy silliness. Melodrama annoys me, both in the arts and in my life. I consider myself a clown, would like to be considered a rake, and guess that others consider myself to be either a goof or a freak.

I am better at making my loved ones laugh than I am at helping them stop crying.

I follow politics and enjoy it in the abstract. In the specific, it almost always makes me angry. I lean sharply to the left ideologically.

I used to work at a video store. I now work in an office and make more than twice as much money per hour. I was happier at the video store.
I have a wonderful girlfriend named Tessa. Sometimes I truly hate being tied to a relationship, but I like how she smiles at me. She is terribly sweet and funny and pretty.

I have a brother named Michael and two sisters, Rachel and Gretchen. Michael lives with my mom, a block away from my best friends and in the same building as my uncle Tim and his dog, Boscoe. Gretchen lives with my Dad and his wife, Laurie, and a rotating cast of Laurie’s children, grandchildren, and cats. My sister lives with her daughter, Alissa. I don’t see any of them as much as I’d like.

I have great friends. Angie, Mitt, Troy and Ian, along with Tessa and my brother are my closest friends. They are all good people, whom I trust completely and can engage me satisfyingly. But I don’t connect as well as I used to.

I have vague literary aspirations. I also think it would be nice to manage a small movie theater. My laziness typically trumps my ambition.

I want to experience a reasonable portion of the world’s offerings before I die. I want to have my days filled with good, rewarding company. I want to tell a bunch of stories to a bunch of people.

When Your Mother Is Dead, Lord, Lord

This morning I grabbed a cassette tape from my box-o-tapes at random, as has been my custom as of late, and I found something I had feared lost forever, something deeply awesome. What I grabbed was a tape clearly labeled “Malcolm Sex 1999: Motherless Children.”

To explain the significance of this tape, we must venture back to the magical, carefree year that was 1999. I was in a gang back then, a gang known as Fluff. “Fluff rhymes with “tough”, and as the rhyming implied, we were tough. Damn tough. So tough, only two people in Akron were tough enough to join. Every Tuesday the gang would go to the local coffee shop for open mic night. Not to play. No, our calling was much higher. We came to heckle. We were like Statler and Waldorf, only we weren’t old and we weren’t puppets.

We had been doing this for some time, and our Tuesday nights had developed a predictable routine. People would bare their souls, and my partner, the inimitable Fluff Daddy, and I would make incisive commentary, such as “they suck,” and “can you believe how badly they suck?” This particular night, however, was the most important night in open mic night history. It was the night my partner and I first heard Malcolm Sex.

Malcolm Sex was mindblowing. They were a pair of enthusiastic showmen, determined to give us the best fuckin performance that they could. They came to rock our collective asses off, and they were completely awful. We watched spellbound, as they thrashed around the stage area arhythmically, in their glittery costumes and feather boas, completely into their music.

Their music was so non-melodic and insane, so completely off pitch and out of tune, it seemed that, while no one on Earth Prime could call it “good,” somewhere there was a Bizarro planet where Malcolm Sex were considered pop virtuosos. If they had a clue what they were doing, they would have been geniuses. Since they didn’t, they were merely beautiful, earnest idiots.

Fluff Daddy and I were in love. Never had we been so touched by badness. After their set, we approached them. We told them that we dug their stuff, and that we were filmmakers. We were making a low budget film, so the story we made up went, and we were looking for local band to use for scoring. Did they have a demo tape, we inquired? They seemed pretty excited by the prospect. They told us they’d see what they could put together.

The next week, Malcolm Sex were back, and they had a tape in hand. We thanked them, and warned them that there was every chance that this film would never get off the ground, but we have your contact information, and we’ll be sure to call you when and if the project is completed. Then we laughed at them behind their back a whole bunch. Sometimes being in a gang means doing things you aren’t proud of years later in retrospect.

Later that night we listened to the tape. It contained one song, Motherless Children, and this seemed to be the nadir of their unique brand of bad. It was so addictively terrible that we gave serious consideration to the idea of actually making a movie, so that we could actually use the song as its theme, although that idea eventually fell by the wayside. Soon afterward, open mic nights were discontinued, the tape was shoved in a drawer somewhere, and Malcolm Sex became nothing more than a memory.

Six years later, the song is just as I remember it: Amazing and horrible. It’s good to know the mythic status this song has held in my heart was well earned.

These days, I’m much kinder to people brave enough to bare their souls to strangers, Fluff has disbanded, and that newly found tape may be the sole remaining artifact of Malcolm Sex’s presumed short career. But the special place in my heart for things touched by a magical awful remains, and is bigger than ever. I’m going to convert the song to mp3, and make sure that the legacy of Malcolm Sex endures.

Originally published at The Triangle. You can comment here or there.

When Your Mother Is Dead, Lord, Lord

This morning I grabbed a cassette tape from my box-o-tapes at random, as is my custom, and I found something I had feared lost forever, something deeply awesome. What I grabbed was a tape clearly labeled “Malcolm Sex 1999: Motherless Children.”

To explain the significance of this tape, we must venture back to the magical, carefree year that was 1999. I was in a gang back then, a gang known as Fluff. As the rhyming of the name implied, we were tough. Damn tough. So tough, only two people in Akron were tough enough to join. Every Tuesday the gang would go to the local coffee shop for open mic night. Not to play. No, our calling was much higher. We came to heckle. We were like Statler and Waldorf, only we weren’t old and we weren’t puppets.

We had been doing this for some time, and our Tuesday nights had developed a predictable routine. People would bare their souls, and my partner, the inimitable Fluff Daddy, and I would make incisive commentary, such as “they suck,” and “can you believe how badly they suck?” The night in question however, was the most important night in open mic night history. That was the night my partner and I first heard Malcolm Sex.

Malcolm Sex was mindblowing. They were a pair of enthusiastic showmen, determined to give us the best fuckin performance that they could. They came to rock our collective asses off, and they were completely awful. We watched spellbound, as they thrashed around the stage area arhythmically, in their glittery costumes and feather boas, completely into their music.

Their music was so non-melodic and insane, so completely off pitch and out of tune, it seemed that, while no one on Earth Prime could call it “good,” somewhere there was a Bizzaro planet where Malcolm Sex were considered pop virtuosos. If they had a clue what they were doing, they would have been geniuses. Since they didn’t, they were merely beautiful, earnest idiots.

Fluff Daddy and I were in love. Never had we been so touched by badness. After their set, we approached them. We told them that we dug their stuff, and that we were filmmakers. We were making a low budget film, so the story we made up went, and we were looking for local band to use for scoring. Did they have a demo tape, we inquired? They seemed pretty excited by the prospect. They told us they’d see what they could put together.

The next week, Malcolm Sex were back, and they had a tape in hand. We thanked them, and warned them that there was every chance that this film would never get off the ground, but we have your contact information, and we’ll be sure to call you when and if the project is completed. Then we laughed at them behind their back a whole bunch. Sometimes being in a gang means doing things you aren’t proud of.

Later that night we listened to the tape. It contained an original composition of theirs, Motherless Children, and this seemed to be the nadir of their unique brand of bad. It was so addictively terrible that we gave serious consideration to the idea of actually making a movie, so that we could actually use the song as its theme, although that idea eventually fell by the wayside. Soon afterwards, open mic nights were discontinued, the tape was shoved in a drawer somewhere, and Malcolm Sex became nothing more than a memory.

Six years later, the song is just as I remember it: Amazing and horrible. It’s good to know the mythic status this song has held in my heart was well earned.

These days, I’m much kinder to people brave enough to bare their souls to strangers, Fluff has disbanded, and that newly found tape may be the sole remaining artifact of Malcolm Sex’s presumed short career. But the special place in my heart for things touched by a magical awful remains, and is bigger than ever. I’m going to convert the song to mp3, and make sure that the legacy of Malcolm Sex endures.

He’s like the angel of death, with flaming swords for hands!

Musically, I was most comfortable in the post-grunge 90’s. From third wave ska, to garage rock, to electronica, everything on the radio sounded different, and most of it sounded good. During this carefree time, buying cds was something for other people, people with jobs. This means that there were dozens of bands that got a song or two played on the radio. Songs that I liked, and may have taped off of the radio. Songs that haven’t been on a playlist for years.

I’ve been trying to recall and retrieve this music for a while now, but I’ve forgotten a lot of it. When I was fourteen it just didn’t occur to me that good music on the radio was a temporary condition.

So I was reading old issues of Azrael (yeah, I know, Maus it ain’t.), the comic book about the pycho, would-be Batman, when I giddily notice that each issue has a Sam Goody ad. These record chain ads were each nothing more than a picture of two album covers, and the gentle suggestion that Sam Goody might be a good place to purchase them. The albums showcased were all second tier alternative rock, most of it quite good.

So now my stack of Azrael (it’s better book than you think) serves as a mid nineties alt rock Record Exchange shopping guide.