Goodbye George Carlin

First Richard Pryor left us. That was a blow, but in a way it wasn't that surprising. He suffered with MS for years before passing away. Before that disease announced itself he had stopped touring and was only doing film work every once in a while.

George Carlin was different. Even as late as March of this year he was still producing stand up specials. Still touring. Still writing books. Still being the grumpy, loud voice of reason in the world of absurdity we call the United States. A role that suited him even better the older he got. With that kind of track record and presence you just kind always think he'll be there.

And then he's gone.

In 1994 I got the chance to see him live. My favorite bit from that evening was his reading of An Incomplete List of Impolite Words and Phrases. Before reading it he stated that after every show someone would tell him a new one. True to form after reading it a couple of audience members told him a new one to add to the list. After the performance I picked up a poster that listed 2,443 Filthy Words and Phrases. My favorite: Waxing the Dolphin.

As a writer this was the part that always entranced me about his stand up: words and there meanings. From the seven words you can never say on television, to the definition of "stuff", Carlin was a master of tweaking our societal perceptions simply be tweaking the words we use everyday.

Experienced Rodent Killer For Hire

These photos and this post was inspired by two separate blogs by Nadia and her rodent troubles.

Last night, Robin, one of my house mates, told me that her cat Oliver had brought us a present and it was in the kitchen. Needless to say I very impressed.



I dare anyone to try and submit these to icanhazcheezebuger.com.



So if one needs a certified rodent killer we are willing to rent Oliver out to you. He works independently, feeds himself, and as you can see gets results.

If you want something smaller there is a "Ferocious Attack Kitten" for adoption on Craigslist.

Attack of the Mailboxes

Hello Readers,

This is a short script that sprung from a dream I had one night. If anyone would like to turn it into a short film you have my permission as long as I am given writing credit and get to see the finished product.

Enjoy,
Ben

ATTACK OF THE MAILBOXES


EXT. CORNER STORE - NIGHT

DANNY, early 20’s, leaves a corner store carrying a brown paper bag. He walks towards his pride and joy, a late 60’s Chevelle. Candy apple red with black racing stripes running across the body it is obvious that this machine is built for power and speed.

Next to the dull blue postal MAILBOX Danny parked in front of the Chevelle looks even more fantastic.

The windows on the driver and passenger side are down revealing Greg's other pride and joy, SANDY. Barely out of her teens and barely able to contain her energy as she sits in the passenger side.

INT. CAR - NIGHT

SANDY
(Calling through the window.)
Did you get it?

EXT. CORNER STORE - CONTINUOUS

Danny pulls a six pack of beer out of the bag.

DANNY
Viola’.

INT. CAR

SANDY
Alright!

EXT. CORNER STORE

Danny sets the beer on top of the mailbox and crumbles up the brown paper bag. Opening the mailslot he shoves the brown ball into the mailbox.

Relieved of his trash burden, he snatches up the beer and flings open the drivers side door.

Which smashes into the side of the mailbox.

He slowly pulls the door away from revealing-

CLOSE ON
-a nice size dent in the door.

EXT. CAR - CONTINUOUS

DANNY
Ahh, man!!

He looks with contempt at the mailbox.

DANNY
Stupid mailbox. You dented my door.

And hits it a few times.

INT. CAR

SANDY
Danny, come on. You’re a smart guy, I’m sure you can fix it.

EXT. CAR

DANNY
(Smiling.)
You’re right. I can fix this.
(Smacking the mailbox one more time.)
Nice try Mr. Box.

With this final flourish, Danny gets into the car and closes the door.

INT. CAR

Sandy take a beer from Danny and pops one open.

SANDY
Alirght, let’s get going; they’re probably waiting for us.

DANNY
(Keying the ignition.)
You got it babe.

EXT. CORNER STORE

The car drives off leaving the mailbox in a cloud of dust.

INT. CAR - MOMENTS LATER

SANDY
So Bret has got this new girl who is supposed to be there tonight.

DANNY
Really?

SANDY
Yeah. And Cindy is just totally stressed about it. I mean I don’t know why she just didn’t tell him to not come over.

DANNY
Cindy has always had trouble telling Bret no.

SANDY
Yeah. If she had done that the first time around she wouldn’t be in this situation.

EXT. STREET - CONTINUOUS

As the car speeds down the road a mailbox appears in the middle of the street.

INT. CAR

Danny slams on the brakes

DANNY
What the -

SANDY
Why would somebody put a mailbox in the middle of road?

DANNY
I don’t know. Probably some jerk playing a prank.

Danny turns the wheel to go around the mailbox. Sandy grabs his arm.

SANDY
Wait. Shouldn’t we move it?

DANNY
(Continuing to drive around it.)
No, let’s just get going.

SANDY
But somebody might get hurt.

DANNY
It’s just a mailbox. And besides I’m sure someone else will take care of it.

Sandy watches out the window as the car goes around the mailbox.

EXT. STREET

The car drives off leaving the mailbox in a cloud of dust and exhaust.

INT. CAR - MOMENTS LATER

As Danny and Sandy sit in awkward silence another mailbox appears in the headlights. Danny slams on brakes and they both stare at it for a second.

SANDY
Danny what’s going on?

DANNY
I don’t know.

SANDY
(Looking around.)
Is somebody messing with us?

DANNY
Maybe, let’s just keep going. We’re only a few miles from Cindy’s.

EXT. STREET - CONTINUOUS

The car drives off leaving the mailbox behind.

EXT. STREET

Another mailbox appears in the middle of the street.

INT. CAR

DANNY
This is ridiculous.

He turns the wheel and maneuvers around the mailbox without hitting the brake.

SANDY
Danny I don’t like this.

Before he can reply another mailbox appears before them.

EXT. STREET

The car swerves to the left barely missing the mailbox.

INT. CAR

DANNY
What is going on?

SANDY
Danny look out!

EXT. STREET

A series of mailboxes are lined up down the street forming an obstacle course.
The car swerves from the left to the right like an slalom course going around each mailbox.

INT. CAR

SANDY
Why is this happening?

DANNY
I don’t know.

SANDY
(Peering out windshield.)
Oh my God, what is that?

EXT. CAR

A row of mailboxes is blocking their lane.

INT. CAR

DANNY
Hold on!

He jerks the wheel violently to left.

EXT. CAR

The car swerves into the next lane avoiding the mailboxes.

INT. CAR

SANDY
(Pointing in front of them.)
Look out!

Through the windshield another row of mailboxes stands in their lane. Danny pulls the wheel to the right.

EXT. CAR

The car brushes past the row of mailboxes and sails into the other lane.
It moves forward a few seconds and then another row of mailboxes blocks their lane.

INT. CAR

DANNY
What the-

He jerks the wheel violently to the left.

DANNY
This is not funny.

SANDY
I don’t think it’s a joke.

As they approach the intersection their exits are blocked on the right and left by a row of mailboxes forcing them to drive forward. In the streetlights they appear ominous and menacing. Danny slows down the car and they both look out the windows inspecting them.

SANDY
(Hitting Danny’s shoulder.)
Go, go, go! Cindy’s house is only a block away.

The car speeds on down the block until they reach the next intersection. Mailboxes are lined up in front of them three deep and have also blocked the left side. The car screeches to a halt.

DANNY
What do we do?

SANDY
Go back.

Danny glances into the rearview mirror.

DANNY
I can’t.

SANDY
(Turning around.)
What do you mean-

EXT. CAR

A line of mailboxes is blocking the road behind them.

Sandy gets out of the car.

DANNY
Sandy what are you doing?

SANDY
Her house is right there.

She walks over to the mailboxes, stopping a few feet in front of them.

SANDY
Cinnndyyy! Cinndyy! Cindy!

INT. CINDY’S HOUSE

Various people around the same age as Danny and Sandy are sitting in the living room unaware of what is happening outside.

EXT. CAR

Sandy stares off at the Cindy’s house accepting the fact that she will not be able to hear her.

In frustration she hits one of the mailboxes.

After a few seconds of silence a long, slow, metallic hissing emanates from the mailbox and spreads to others.

Sandy watches in disbelief as the chorus grows louder and louder.

DANNY
Sandy come on!

She is frozen, caught up in the unbelievable.

Danny runs up to her and grabs her by the arm.

DANNY
Come on, lets go. Let’s get the hell out of here.

Sandy snaps out of her shock and runs with Danny back to the car.

INT. CAR

They slam the doors shut and Danny floors it.

EXT. STREET

The car speeds away in a cloud of dust.

INT. CAR

SANDY
What are we going to do?

DANNY
We’re going to get the hell out of here that’s what going to do.

EXT. CAR

The car speeds down the street. Each intersection of the deserted suburban streets is blocked off on the right and left by the mailboxes.

INT. CAR

Scanning the blocks ahead Danny pushes the peddle down further. The car races down the street. Each intersection is blocked by the mailboxes.
After a few moments of hurtling at top speed, Danny slams on the brakes.

EXT. STREET

The car fishtails and shudders to a stop several yards past the last intersection.

INT. CAR

DANNY
This is ridiculous. They probably have everyone of them blocked.

SANDY
What are we going to do?

DANNY
Hold on.

EXT. STREET

The car backs up into the lawn behind it, aiming the front of at one of mailbox blockades.

INT. CAR

Danny shifts into neutral and revs the motor a few times, each roar of the engine growing louder.

Slamming the gas pedal down, he throws the engine into drive.

EXT. STREET

Deep gouges are cut into the lawn as the car speeds towards the mailboxes.

INT. CAR

DANNY
Here we go!

With a crash, the car breaks through the roadblock and speeds off.

The next intersection they approach is a T-section with the left side blocked by three rows of mailboxes.

Danny jerks the wheel to the right.

EXT. STREET

The car swerves sharply to the right and barrels down the street.

INT. CAR

SANDY
Did we lose them?

They both scan the sides of the streets as the vehicle hurtles down the street. The neighborhood is deserted again.

DANNY
I think so.

The tension dissolves for a moment.

SANDY
Oh my God, look.

EXT. STREET

The car comes to a stop in the middle of the street.

At the end of the block rows of mailboxes, three to four deep, stretch across the street.

INT. CAR

SANDY
We’re never going to get away are we?

Danny puts the car in neutral and guns the motor.

SANDY
What are you doing?

DANNY
I’m going to go for it.

SANDY
No! Their are too many of them.

DANNY
Just trust me alright.

He pushes the gas pedal all the way to the floor and rips the motor into drive.

EXT. STREET

The car launches into the mailboxes unleashing a torrent of metal on metal which only results in pushing a few rows backward.

There is no gap to escape through and the mailboxes now surround the front part of the vehicle.

INT. CAR

DANNY
No! No! No!

He fumbles to lock the car into reverse.

SANDY
Do something! Do something!

DANNY
I’m trying.

Danny jams the car into reverse.

EXT. STREET

The car flies backwards from the blockade.

As the vehicle moves the mailboxes slide back into position.

INT. CAR

Sandy turns around to see where they are going.

SANDY
Oh my God Danny! Look out!

EXT. STREET

The car slams into a thick line of mailboxes which have assembled behind them.

INT. CAR

Startled, Danny fumbles for the gear shift. As the mailboxes surround the rear of the car Sandy screams grabbing Danny’s hand.

DANNY
(Shoving her away.)
What are you doing!?

Danny throws the car into drive and pulls away from the mailboxes.

As they did before the mailboxes move back into position.

SANDY
I’m sorry, I’m just so scared.

DANNY
It’s alright.

Rows of mailboxes block the road in front and back of them.

SANDY
what are we going to do?

DANNY
(Looking around.)
I don’t kn-. Hey. Look.

Danny points out his window towards on dark wooden fenced alley. It is longer than the street they are on but only half as wide.

SANDY
No, no, no. We’ll never make it.

DANNY
Do you have any better ideas?

SANDY
Let’s just stay here. They probably just want to hold us here.

EXT. STREET

The front line of mailboxes slowly starts scooting towards the car.

INT. CAR

SANDY
(Overlapping.)
No, no, no, no, no.

DANNY
Look I’ll gun the motor at top speed. We outran them before. We can do it again.
(Beat.)
Do you have any better ideas!?

Sandy shakes her head no.

DANNY
Alright, hang on.

He guns the motor and shoots the car into the alley.

EXT. ALLEY

Kicking up dirt and trash, the car hurtles down the alley. The end is illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights. They are almost there.

INT. CAR

SANDY
Are we going to make it?

EXT. ALLEY

As they approach the end of the alley is flooded by mailboxes until a virtual see of blue fills the space in front of them.

INT. CAR

Sandy screams as the car plows into the mailboxes. The force of the crash was enough to push the hood of the car out of the alley.

The mailboxes slowly scrape their way down the sides of the car.

SANDY
Oh my God! Back up! Back up!

Frantically, Danny puts the car in reverse and throws the pedal to the floor. The car shoots back a few yards and crashes to a halt.

They both spin around in their seats to see-

EXT. ALLEY

-another sea of mailboxes surrounding the car behind them. Both lines of mailboxes advance upon the vehicle scrapping up the sides.

INT. CAR

DANNY
Lock the doors.

They both slam their hands down on the locks and move into the center sitting as close as possible.

SANDY
What’s going to happen to us?

DANNY
I don’t know. I don’t know.

The mailboxes move in around the sides of car.

DANNY
Wait! The windows!

As they dive for the handles to roll up the windows, mail begins pouring out of the mailslots and into the car. They are both pelted with envelopes of all shapes and sizes as they turn the handles.

CLOSE ON

Sandy’s bracelet caught on the handle.

Danny get his window up and turns to Sandy who is struggling to fight around a growing pile of mail.

DANNY
What are you doing!?

SANDY
I’m stuck.

A pile of mail has engulfed Sandy up to her chest. Danny thrust his hand into the pile fishing for the handle.

The car jolts suddenly. They both look around and see the mailboxes pushing against the car. With the force of linebackers smashing into the sides, the vehicle rocks from side to side. [The rocking action continues throughout the rest of the scene.]
Danny keeps digging for the handle as more mail pours into the car.

DANNY
I can’t get to it.

The drivers side windows smash open and mail starts pouring into the rest of the car. In a panic Danny grabs Sandy’s arm and starts pulling.

DANNY
Yank it lose!

SANDY
I can’t!

DANNY
Break it. Just break it!

SANDY
I can’t, I can’t, I can’t! This is it isn’t it?

DANNY
No, no! You’re not.

By this point the front of the car is filled up to their necks and the backseat is slowly filling up. Danny crawls over the backseat, locking his hands under her shoulders and pulling with all his strength.

The envelopes continue to pour in and are spilling over from the front seat.

SANDY
I can’t breath.

DANNY
(Moving to the center of the car.)
No, no! You have to get lose.
(Grabbing her hand.)
Come on. Come on!

As the front of the car completely fills with paper Sandy’s hand goes limp.

DANNY
(Shaking her hand.)
Sandy? . . . Sandy?!

Realizing she is gone, Danny looks around and notices that the floorboards of the backseat are packed with mail. More continues to spill in from the busted windows and the front of the car.

He begins yanking and pulling feverishly on the backseat trying to pry it lose. After a few moments the top of the seat comes lose and pulls away from the frame. Danny crawls through the slot and pulls the seat closed behind him.

INT. TRUNK

In the darkness we here Danny’s breathing and the thudding of the mailboxes against the car.

Suddenly the trunk lid pops open. Startled, Danny looks for an escape but is deluged by a torrent of mail. The envelopes quickly fill the trunk before he even has a chance to escape.

Then the first row parts and the dented mailbox from the corner store slides forward. It’s mailslot opens up and out shoots a crumbled brown paper bag.

With this last bit of business done the mailboxes shuffle and slide out of the alley leaving a car overflowing with mail.

George Lucas Please Stop

After seeing Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull I was going to rip on every aspect of the film that bothered me. From Lucas' trying to turn Shia LaBeouf, who could easily pass for Zach Braff's younger, less aggressive brother, into Marlon Brando from The Wild Ones to the triple waterfall dive in the duck truck, which was neither exciting nor believable. Then as I thought about it more there are aspects of all the films that have struck me as implausible or annoying.

For example, how the hell did Indy survive being attached to a submarine in Raiders of the Lost Ark. At the beginning of Temple of Doom there was the totally unbelievable life raft jump from a plane onto a raging river. The entire dirigible escape sequence in The Last Crusade, while really exciting, was a series of unbelievable coincidences. As for annoying characters Temple of Doom's Willie Scott and Short Round are perfect examples of characters whose only purpose seemed to be getting in the way.

The main element that help made these movies believable in spite of the occasional lapses in reality were the quests themselves. The Arc of the Covenant, the Holy Grail, and Shakra Stones were objects you could believe existing in the real world. It was enough to make you want to find them yourself. Beyond that a was reverence and mysticism surrounding those objects that allowed such gimmicks as melting faces, giving immortality, or spontaneous combustion to be believable.

The crystal skull mentioned in the title of the film also has an inherent mysticism surrounding it. It has magnetic properties and can turn veteran reserved stage actor John Hurt into a gibbering buffoon. But when Indy tells us that it was constructed so flawlessly that there was no way it could have been made on earth you know where this movie is headed. My hope was that Lucas and Co. stopped just short of the point of ridiculousness. If only we were so lucky. Instead we learn that the crystal skull is part of an alien's skeleton. The alien artifact angle is difficult enough to swallow, but even on an alien world it would be biologically impossible to have a crystal skeleton. (Christ, I sound like such a nerd.) At this point in the film I started chewing on my straw to keep from screaming out "You got to fucking kidding me!"

The coup de gras in this train wreck of distorted logic and storytelling was the ending. Since I had no choice but to go with them on this I believed that an alien culture had come down and taught the natives about irrigation, language, farming, hunting, and everything else. I also decided to believe that attaching the skull to the alien skeleton would initiate some sort of launch sequence revealing an alien spacecraft buried in the mountains of Peru. What I refuse to believe, and where Lucas and Co. lost me, was the appearance of an actual alien to burn out Cate Blanchette's eyes. No matter how much mysticism they wish to place upon the skull it is impossible to believe that thirteen spinning crystal skeletons would fuse into one live in the flesh alien.

Walking out of the theater I muttered to myself, "Aliens. Seriously, fucking aliens. That fricken movie turned into Close Encounters of the Worst Kind."

This brings us back to the title of this missive. At this point in his career George Lucas has become famous for being an egomaniac of Orwellian proportions. Do a little bit of research and you will uncover that the original story idea involving aliens was from Lucas. It was a story element that both Steven Spielberg and Harrison Ford, the only other people with veto power on the script, both said was ridiculous. This explains why it took nineteen years to get them to finally agree to this ludicrous plot element. After all, having the media, friends, and family steadily ask you when the next Indiana Jones film is coming out could become annoying enough to simply succumb to this monumental stupid idea. So, without further preamble:

Dear Mr. Lucas,

Please stop writing and directing.

Just stop.

At this point in your career your main strengths are building up the effects powerhouse that is Lucasfilm and helping to fund independent films. Your strength is not in writing or directing. It never really was if you think about it. The only film that worked on both levels was American Graffiti. Mainly because it was a subject near and dear to your heart. Even though I and millions of others absolutely loved Star Wars, I mean Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, I suspect it was kind of fluke that it went so well. Either that or your instincts and chops were more honed when you were in debt.

If you wish to keep writing and directing my suggestion is to focus on producing quality children's entertainment. This seems only natural since you keep telling everyone that the Star Wars and Indiana Jones cycles are meant for younger audiences. (Although truth be told, I think even I seven year old would wonder what a spaceship was doing in that movie.) Besides have seen the crap that is on Cartoon Network or the pseudo-Christian propaganda that is passing from children's films. The only person out there making quality, smart, and fun movies for people under the age of twelve is Robert Rodriquez - a fellow student of the old DIY school. You would sweep up in that field. As an added bonus you would still get your original fan base coming to the films even though they are not made for us.

But please stop writing and directing. You're just fucking killing us with how bad it has become.

Sincerely,
Ben Holley
A Beleaguered Fan

Burning Man Art Preview: Muytopia

Muytopia from the Flaming Lotus Girls at Maker Faire

Walking up I thought, 'Is that it?'

The Flaming Lotus Girls are known, some would say legendary, for their huge fire arts displays. Their piece for Burning Man in 2006 was entitled Mother Serpent. It was a huge snake coiling around an eight foot tall egg. The coil was about fifty yards in circumference with the head ending up swaying about fifteen feet off the ground. It was a beautiful, fantastic, flame spouting wonder.

When I walked up to there current project, Muytopia, what struck me the most was how small it was.

(

Eight feet tall, four feet wide, with hydraulic wings and head. It was impressive, but even with the flames shooting out of it I was far from impressed.



Walking around to the other side I struck up a conversation with one of the Flaming Lotus Girls, an amazingly hot Eastern European named Sasha. I may be wrong on the name, after all it is really difficult to concentrate when you have something spouting flames next to you.

"I am a little surprised," I responded to the atypical artist question of "What do you think?"
"I thought it would be bigger."
"Oh that's just one piece."
"One?"
"There are going to be thirteen of them. With all different sizes. This one will be the middle sized one I think."

Looking at it from that perspective all I could think was 'Holy shit, this thing going to be immense.

What A Month Should Look Like

I wondered why May seemed so long.



It's also interesting to note that I really haven't felt like I've done much lately.