Here's an Ultimatum

Thinking about going to the movies sometime soon? Do you have any idea how much tickets cost now? Remember how disgusted you were the last time you bought a ticket? Well I guarantee they're 50 cents more now. Oh, you went two weeks ago? Then it's probably 75 cents more by now, smartass. Movies have sucked so bad this summer that the demand curve has shifted left, driving prices (and the number of pre-preview Coke commercials) up. Probably. What am I, an economist?

The point is, we all have to be increasingly careful about how we allocate our movie-ticket funds. As surely as restaurant service will suffer once a 20% tip becomes the standard reward for managing not to spill a carafe of hot coffee on your child's lap, so too does the quality of movies reflect what we are willing to pay for. That's why I modestly propose that everyone over the age of 12 reward Universal Studios and your local cinema house with your patronage, and soon. I'm talking about getting in front of a screen that's showing The Bourne Ultimatum. If it's not the best action movie of all time, it still reaches those dizzying heights where the Rightful Occupier of the Pedestal of Greatest (within agreed-upon genre) is debated among movie geeks and bloggers.

The Bourne Identity was really good--surprisingly good. The Bourne Supremacy was great--one of the best action movies ever--and it was doubtful that the third could match it. Well, it did match it. In fact, it surpassed its predecessor. For a trilogy to start as well as it did and get progressively better (which itself is an understatement) is unprecedented in all of movie history. Ultimatum completes what is now most certainly the best trilogy of all time--firmly and decisively unseating the previous holder of that distinction. Heh.

For your consideration: Superior, non-stop action with little-to-no reliance on explosions. Sustained adrenaline rush that leaves you drained and tired an hour or two after the closing credits. A near-omnipotent CIA infrastructure making full use of the intricate camera system in London. Villians that are almost patriots, but at some point before the narrative crossed the line without returning to the side of the good guys. Political commentary that is left in the subtext where it freaking belongs. A protagonist that would kick James Bond's ass between his early morning run and late-morning gym attendance, or perhaps use his bafflingly high intelligence and a paperclip to reprogram 007's gadgets against their master. Oh, and they did it all with a PG-13 rating. In. Credible. How watchable would "Shooter" have been without the eight dozen explicit killings via bullets to the head that gave it a certain "R" rating? If you answered "not very" you'd be correct. Unless you've somehow managed to make it through life thus far still sensitive to brutal violence, in which case I envy you. Hang on to that.

Anyhow, there are a good many people who have a natural aversion to the movie theater, and with those people I sympathize. Even as I entered the movie theater to see the aforementioned masterpiece my brand-new, piping-hot 20-oz Dunkin' Donuts' coffee was firmly forbade entry as my inanimate companion. Surely, I had rationalized, with ticket sales down so much this summer, theater owners would try their best not to antagonize the faithful few who are still willing to shell out 10 bucks a pop. I begged and pleaded, and was still told to "finish my drink in the lobby before the start of the film", which translated to applying second-degree burns to my mouth, tongue, and esophagus. Naturally this made me madder than I have been in a year. Glad no one was hurt, especially the nice lady who was only doing her job. I regret looking at her as if I wished her children had incurable diseases.

The price, the noise, the people who won't shut up, the crowd, the sticky floors, not to mention the ever-increasing sophistication and affordability of the home entertainment room. On the other hand, shut up about all that. The phrase "you have to see it in a theater" is thrown around too often these days, but as I am cautiously sparing about its use, it means a lot when I say it (so says I). Your girlfriend's or wife's father may have a pretty decent set-up in the basement for watching movies, but this movie is so good that decency requires immediate patronage.

Or maybe you were thinking instead that you'll go see:

• Transformers. Bad idea. A bunch of Hasbro toys materialize in outer space and make war here at our planet. Who needs nostalgia from the bottom of the barrel from arguably the worst decade in the history of pop culture? Get with the times, people. What's next, a Thundercats movie? If anyone from Hollywood somehow reads this, please wipe the previous sentence from your memory immediately, and move on to the next bullet.

• I Now Pronounce you Chuck and Larry. See, this is what I'm talking about. This movie has already made about 80 trillion dollars at the box office and I could probably make a better movie with my Sony camera, a coffee mug with a face painted on it, and any random housecat. It would probably be a movie about racial harmony or something, making you want to laugh and cry at the same time.

• The Simpsons Movie. If the show stopped being watchable during the Clinton administration, why in the world would the movie be anything more than a reminder of how completely flawless the show used to be? Remember the (paraphrased) words of Troy McClure: "Who knows what wacky adventures the Simpsons will have between now and the time that the show ceases to be profitable?" Indeed.

• Hairspray. Fresh off his role as smooth assassin Vincent Vega in the critically-acclaimed Pulp Fiction (he may have done another movie or two in the interim), John Travolta uncomfortably steps into a fat suit and ladywig for every red-blooded American male's favorite kind of flick: The movie musical! In Baltimore, where I more-or-less live, John Waters is somehow considered proof that we are an important movie city. To what extent that is true, I don't know. Apparently quirky characters and NC-17-bordering smut are a really good combination in movies, but that's for critics to ultimately decide--which at least in the case of John Water's has been answered in the affirmative amongst the Baltimore crowd. Long story short, Hairspray probably sucks.

• Rush Hour 3. Usually when I pay money to see a comedy I expect some laughs instead of the pity I will feel for the once-admirable actors starring in a tired cashcow. "Don't evah touch a black man's iPod, Lee! You speaka English yet?!?" Maybe their mattresses stuffed with thousand-dollar bills will help them get some shut-eye, because it definitely won't be the knowledge of participating in something good.

Alright, seriously, go see The Bourne Ultimatum, and while I appreciate and am humbled by the tears of gratitude, perhaps they should be directed to people involved in the production or something. Or you could stop crying altogether--are you OK?

Christopher Hitchens is a Swell Guy

If the actions and mannerisms of everyone born before 1964 have taught me anything, it's that speaking ill of the dead is rarely appropriate unless they are a universally agreed-upon villian (Hitler, Stalin, Jim Jones, etc.). For your run-of-the-mill bad guys, I'm pretty sure a couple of weeks of waiting is warranted. For your law-abiding yet generally distasteful characters you may have to wait a few years. Apparently Vanity Fair columnist Christopher Hitchens disregards such wisdom as he maliciously and disturbingly celebrated the passing of Jerry Falwell on Anderson Cooper 360. Worse things have been said in a respectable, highly-visible media outlet, but I can't exactly remember when. I won't even go into the "Can you imagine if a(member of such-and-such-ethnicity/ideology) said the same thing about a (Mid-sized-Inuit American, Disenfranchised White Male, etc.)" routine. This is in a league all its own.

Some more surreal comments:

When "asked" if there was a heaven and if so is Jerry Falwell there, Hitchens responded:

"No. And I think it's a pity there isn't a hell for him to go to." Nice. He continues:

"The empty life of this ugly little charlatan proves only one thing, that you can get away with the most extraordinary offenses to morality and to truth in this country if you will just get yourself called reverend." Whatever morality means to Christopher Hitchens, dancing on a still-warm body is not an offense against it. Consider that this interview happened the night of Falwell's death. There's more:

"T]he country suffers, to a considerable extent, from paying too much, by way of compliment, to anyone who can describe themselves as a person of faith: Jimmy Swaggart, Ted Haggard, Chaucerian frauds, people who are simply pickpockets." Yes, if there's one thing Jerry Falwell has received from the country, it's compliment.

There's so much more to say about why this is such vulgar, vitriolic filth but I'm hesitant to dignify it much longer. For Hitchens, a moral plea for respect of the recently deceased might be too superstitious to consider. What he may not have guessed is that the embodiment of the so-called Christian Right is not Falwell or Swaggart. These easy, frequent targets are, if anything, analogous to the kids in high school that used to be the big kids in 4th grade until everyone else caught up or surpassed them, and now they have their little cliques and clubs that sometimes make some racket but are regarded by most to be either harmless and/or a little stupid--certainly not worth a lot of attention. Meanwhile, Hitchens is smoking in the bathroom with a few less-brainy hangers-on who chuckle knowingly at his snarky comments, but won't admit that they don't quite get everything he says, but they do understand flippancy directed at others and so long as it's not them, whew, cue the phony laughter. So Falwell dies in a car accident (teens don't have heart failure, stay with me here) and most of the kids in school are indifferent, but some are sad because they either liked him; or it's a scary reminder of their own mortality, but Hitchens is sitting in the back of Miss Harding's English class with a slightly-curled lip carving "Falwell Deserved It" into his desk, and he'll totally tell everyone at the lunch table what he did and they'll awkwardly nod in agreement before returning to their Chick-wiches. "Hitchens goes a little crazy sometimes" some might think. "At least Dawkins is cool about it. He's pretty badass in class, but at least he's decent most of the time."

Such is a man like Christopher Hitchens--existing in the public eye by virtue of shock value, controversy, and a British accent. If the above wasn't enough for you, you can read more about how Jerry Falwell was the biggest threat in existence to Western civilization here at Hitchen's essay on Slate, posted the day after his CNN appearance. You know he's thrilled at the death of another human being as he kicks his essay off: "The discovery of the carcass of Jerry Falwell on the floor of an obscure office in Virginia has almost zero significance, except perhaps for two categories of the species labeled "credulous idiot." Hoo-ah! Also, you can find out how "like many fanatical preachers, Falwell was especially disgusting in exuding an almost sexless personality while railing from dawn to dusk about the sex lives of others." I think Christopher Hitchens is brave to confront the powers in this country that suggest we may be over-sexed! Also, are you an anti-Semite? Apparently most Christians are! Read Hitchen's essay to learn more about yourself! Ditch this guy.

Humble Pie

So it turns out that I went on a pretty steamed rant yesterday, fueled by what I thought was righteous anger. Man was I wrong. Here's a little background: Within the next few days, the Maryland Senate will be voting on a House-passed bill that will allow illegal immigrants to attend the excellent public colleges in Maryland based on the in-state, resident tuition rates. In other words, we're now subsidizing the higher education of illegal aliens. Hmm. Doesn't sound very fair to me. However, they must be taxpayers prior to enrollment. OK, so they're contributing to the thievery pot in Annapolis like the rest of us. But I didn't know that. I was under the assumption that illegal immigrants didn't pay income taxes, and the fury I heard on 1090 AM seemed (to me) to confirm that assumption. So, with a slow afternoon at work yesterday I sent the following email to about 20 people or so (the text wasn't red, but it is here to show how hot of a little potato [see Zoolander] I was):

"TO ALL MARYLANDERS
"We are not a people or a country who has ever willfully chosen to condemn people to living in the shadows of our society." -Governor Martin O’Malley, speaking yesterday (March 28th).

What our esteemed governor is referring to here is the granting of in-state college tuition to illegal immigrants in Maryland. He will most certainly sign it into law if it hits his desk. To him, it’s a wonderful, fair concept: Take the tax-dollars of Maryland citizens and give it to people who are here illegally and who don't pay taxes. Oh, and do it even though a majority of Marylanders are against it.

It couldn’t be worse if he sat us down personally and explained to us, perhaps in a condescending tone an adult might take with a child, that we are quite simply idiots and will believe any airy, meaningless platitude he cares to throw our way. And he will take our tax dollars and spend it on whatever group he feels he needs to win in the next election. Of course, this is exactly how Martin “I Think I’m JFK” O’Malley always speaks when there’s a microphone in front of his face.

Illegal immigrants will absolutely flock to Maryland now, and if our legislature is willing to let us foot the bill for their college degree, what else will we be paying for? Here’s a fair prediction: EVERYTHING. Meanwhile, there are honest, law-abiding foreigners waiting to immigrate legally, and we shove another insult in their patient faces. By the way, there are students right here in Maryland who are denied in-state tuition because they did their undergraduate work in another state, even though they didn’t do anything beyond leave home to go to school. But they come back for their Master’s degree and we tell them, “No, sorry, you’ll have to pay out-of-state price. Oh, so you’re angry about that? Ha! Talk to your parents! They’ve been here the entire time you were away, paying us taxes (and your out-of-state tuition) every year. But not for your benefit, no. For illegal immigrants to go to school! Welcome home, Johnny! You have until April 15th to file with us, as well!"

To deny illegal immigrants in-state college tuition is not “condemn[ing] people to living in the shadows” like the teary-eyed O’Malley says. It is an affirmation that we are a nation of laws. That Annapolis is not free to distribute our income to those who do not even pay taxes. That it is un-American and unfair to reward lawbreakers. That Congress is supposed to represent the citizens. That we’re not fooled when they pretend to be compassionate but are really buying future Hispanic votes.

No one can blame poor foreigners for wanting to come to the US and to Maryland. But that doesn’t mean we condone it, and it certainly doesn't mean we have to foot the bill for their college. Did the state pay for your immigrant ancestors to go to college before they were taxpayers? Of course they didn’t—that would have been wildly unfair and wrong.
Once your outrage is controlled enough to speak coherently, phone or email the scumbags in Annapolis who will be voting on this in the next few days:

http://www.msa.md.gov/msa/mdmanual/05sen/html/sendist.html

And if you know anyone in Maryland who pays taxes, send this along to them. This is not about Republicans or Democrats, liberals or conservatives. It's about common sense."

But they do have to pay taxes. And I really, really hope that the retraction I sent a half-hour later was quick enough to keep this garbage from hitting too many inboxes. Ah, amateur punditry...you're a cruel mistress.

Update 04/02/2007: The governor seems to have forgotten a little practice in our country called slavery. Oops.

The NFL Sucks

Operating on principle is really hard sometimes. Take the decision I made five minutes ago to pull all support from what was previously my very favorite consumer-driven organization: The NFL. It turns out that they declined to include this recruitment ad for the U.S. Border Patrol in the official 2007 Super Bowl program, apparently due to its controversial nature. If someone can please help me see where the controversy is, I promise not to seek out and join a crazed militia in the hills somewhere. Or maybe the NFL can make amends next year...we can always hope that humility can lead to the admittance of wrongdoing. Until then, I will not support the NFL, even my beloved Ravens. Hmm. Did I mention operating on principle is hard? It's so hard that sometimes a man can't help but get a little sidetracked, especially in mid-to-late August...