***Blatant Insubordination is a regular column published on Primary Ignition by Rob Siebert, editor and Fanboy Wonder. The views reflected in it are his alone, and do not reflect those of the staff of Primary Ignition.***

Image from Arkham City's Facebook page.

Eric Stuckart actually broke the news even before DC Entertainment did. The sequel to Batman: Arkham Asylum, by far the best Batman video game ever, will get a sequel in fall 2011. Entitled Arkham City, the game apparently revolves around the asylum being temporarily relocated into downtown Gotham, and the mayhem that ensues.

Now, I don’t mean to brag, but it would be hard for you to find a bigger Batman fan than me. I’m not going to say I’m the world’s BIGGEST Batman buff, but I’m certainly in the top echelon. I know the characters, I know the mythology, and I’ve seen this world portrayed in every medium from comics, to film, to television, to video games, to board games to novels, etc. Long story short, I know my Batman. And as a Batman fan, these are the things I’m hoping to see during my visit to Arkham City.

1. Let Me Roam Through Gotham City
Arkham Asylum gave the player a decent amount of freedom. Between missions, we were more or less allowed to roam the Asylum grounds at will, hunting for Easter Eggs and Riddler trophies. But in this game, I want a little of that Grand Theft Auto magic. I want to be able to swing from rooftops, see police headquarters and Crime Alley, and go on some larger-scale Riddler sidequests. Just as The Empire Strikes Back had to be a larger-scale film than Star Wars, Arkham City must be bigger than Asylum. After all, it IS a city…

2. Explore The Batman/Catwoman Dynamic
Based on the teaser imagery we got from Game Informer last week, it seems like Catwoman will be a major part of Arkham City. Firstly, can I just say how happy I am that the design team stayed faithful to the modern incarnation of Catwoman? They seem to have adapted the texture of her costume to fit the look of the game, but other than that, they’re using the costume the character has had for the past 9 years or so. Mad props.

Image from gameinformer.com.

In the comics, Catwoman balances between hero and villainess, and that’s exactly what I’d like to see her do in Arkham City. Some of the best stories involving Catwoman cast her as an x-factor, where neither the characters nor the audience know what her true motivation is. I’m not saying we should spend the entire game wondering what she’s really up to, but maybe tease us a bit about what she really thinks about Batman, the Arkham situation, etc.

Plus, Batman and Catwoman have been flirting for decades now. Let’s see some of that chemistry in the game. Her flirty, sultry nature against Batman’s all-business attitude. Sources say Debi Mae West is doing Catwoman’s voice in this game. I haven’t heard any of her work in Metal Gear Solid or Naruto, but if she can put the right spin on the character, it’ll be gold.

3. More Cool Character Designs
One thing I really respect about the Arkham Asylum game is that it respects the source material, but it’s not tied down by it. Case in point, the look of a character like The Scarecrow. Here’s a character that’s supposed to personify raw fear, but it’s sometimes hard to convey that visually. To most of us, scarecrows aren’t really scary. Over the years, creators have tried various tricks to make the character spookier, while still trying to maintain a “scarecrow” look. Some attempts have been more successful than others…

Image from fearnet.com.

…but we’d NEVER seen anything like this. A man in tattered rags, wearing a noose around his neck, speaking through a gas mask, with BIG HONKIN’ NEEDLES on his hand! He looks more like the bad guy in a slasher movie than a melodramatic supervillain! This Freddy Krueger vibe was brilliance, and I hope to see this incarnation of Scarecrow in the new game.

In Arkham City, designers have room to play with a lot of new characters, like Two-Face, Mr. Freeze and hopefully The Penguin and Black Mask. I’m interested to see what they do this time around. Even the little things, like the texture and small details on Batman’s costume, were wonderful.

But guys, if you’re going to use Bane again, can we tone down his look a bit? He was the only character I looked at and said: “That’s too much.”

4. More Voices In Batman’s Head
I’m not sure characters like Robin or Nightwing should appear in this game. Simply playing with Batman was enough for me in Asylum. The use of Oracle (Barbara Gordon) as an emotional tie to Commissioner Gordon during his kidnapping was a nice touch, and I wouldn’t mind seeing her return. But I’d also like to hear from Alfred in Arkham City. We don’t need to actually see him (a la Oracle or The Riddler in the first game), but he’s too big a part of the Batman mythos to not have him play at least a small role. And on the off chance they can get 91-year-old Efrem Zimbalist, Jr. (who voiced the character in Batman: The Animated Series) to play him, more power to them!

As for characters like Robin, Nightwing or Batgirl, if they can find ways to conveniently fit them into the story, I’m fine with that. But Paul Dini and the rest of the storytellers certainly don’t need to go out of their way to include them. A subtle nod would be nice I suppose. Case in point, in Asylum we heard some broadcasts by reporter Jack Ryder, who in the DC Universe is also the anti-hero The Creeper. Little things like that are always fun.

5. Give Mark Hamill a Killing Joke Moment
Mark Hamill, who’s voiced The Joker in various cartoons and video games for about 20 years now, has gone on record saying Arkham City will be his final performance as the clown prince of crime. What brought him into the first game was apparently the chance to work with Paul Dini, who he cited as his “favorite Joker writer.”

Apparently Hamill is hesitant to return to the part for fear of not living up to previous performances. Personally, when it comes to the Joker, I think at this point Hamill could totally phone it in and still be better than 90 percent of the other actors that attempt to play the part. But on the other hand, I understand wanting to go out on a high note, and give other actors a chance to play the character.

Image from slashgamer.com.

In show business, you rarely say “never.” Heck, who’d have thought we’d see additional sequels to Indiana Jones and Rocky after all those years? But just in case this is Hamill’s last go around as the comic book world’s most infamous villain, I say we let him go out with a bang, and give him a scene or two that’s reminiscent of arguably the most famous Joker story ever: The Killing Joke.

Now, obviously we don’t want to pull specific circumstances or lines from the book, lest Alan Moore get on his high horse and tell fans never to play the game. But Hamill has said in the past that he’s be interested in doing an animated version of Moore’s famous graphic novel. But why not let Hamill tackle some scenes that are thematically similar? One scene from the book that comes to mind is the one where Batman is walking through Joker’s demented funhouse, and he’s giving his famous “one bad day” speech. Give Hamill something even remotely similar to that, and I guarantee you he’ll hit it out of the park. Mark Hamill deserves a moment like that after all the fantastic performances he’s given us over the years.

At this point, the only REAL drawback to Arkham City is that we have to wait a year to play it. It’s already got a lot of anticipation and high expectations building up for it. Whether that will help or hurt it, only time will tell.

***Blatant Insubordination is a regular column published on Primary Ignition by Rob Siebert, editor and Fanboy Wonder. The views reflected in it are his alone, and do not reflect those of the staff of Primary Ignition.***

Ahhh yes, Lulu the stripper. Now that’s a name I’ve not heard in a long time…a long time.

I’m guessing that’s because I made it up. I can’t remember her name. But that’s okay, because it probably wasn’t her real name anyway.

Image from gawker,com.

Yes, for as long as we’ve had stages, loud music and women who want your money, we’ve had strippers. And God bless them. They’re like the bacon of the non-food community. Not good for you, and a little too greasy at times, but we still can’t live without ‘em. I say it’s every young man’s rite of passage to go to at least one strip club in his lifetime. But as a friend of mine once pointed out, you can’t go to a strip club by yourself, lest you be creepy. It’s got to be you and at least two of your buddies. If it’s just you and one other guy, it might get awkward.

“Yeah dude, you get a lap dance, and I’ll just sit here and…watch.”

The sad thing is, like most things, it seems that strip clubs are slowly being phased out by the internet. For better or worse (mostly worse), anyone who wants people to see them take their clothes off now has a free stage in the online community. Don’t believe me? Folks, I did some extended research for this piece. Extended research. Strenuous extended research. Trust me, the truth is out there…and it’s very jiggly.

Pretty soon pot-bellied truckers and antisocial internet columnists will all have stripper applications on their iPads, iPhones, Kindles, PSPs, Nintendo DS’, or whatever other piece of crap techno babble we’re carrying around. Granted, we won’t be able to touch the strippers…but that’s the usually the case in real life, right?

But not with Lulu. She was special.

Due to the oath of secrecy that typically accompanies trips to strip joints, I am unable to reveal the time or place that I met Lulu. But I will say…that Barack Obama had become president by that time. Per protocol, I was with a group of guys, and it was indeed my first trip to a strip club.

I believe my first thought upon entry was: “This is awesome.” We’d just come from an outdoor concert that a good portion of their target demo had been at, so we were one of the only groups inside. We took our seats, and…watched.

The only complaint I can muster up about this place is that there was no food. Last week I heard on the radio that a decent amount of Chicago area strip clubs serve food, and there’s even a lunch-time buffet at some. Apparently it’s to the point where naked women named Sapphire and Espresso are competing with a bus-load of people from the old folks home for a scoop of potato salad. Apparently the food lends an element of credibility to the establishment, but to me it just seems like food would make the whole strip club process…messier?

Anyway, it wasn’t long before a beautiful young Filipino woman made her way over to me, and started chatting me up. I will say that’s one of the great things about strip joints. The male/female dynamic that usually exists in bars is completely reversed. Now not only are the women constantly coming up to the men, but in this case they’re wearing only  thongs and boots. Carlos Mencia actually does a bit about this dynamic, and whoever he stole it from was right on the money.

As you may have guessed, this beautiful Filipino woman was indeed Lulu. She was so friendly she even sat on my lap. As I was slightly inebriated at the time, I can’t remember exactly what our conversation entailed, but I do recall her asking me more than once why I wasn’t drinking. I’m not sure why Lulu was so anxious to see me drunk. Perhaps she’s attracted to the smell of Jack Daniels. Who can say?

Photo from costripclub.com

Long story short, as this was my first time in a strip joint, I decided it would be in my best interest to pay 3 figures for some alone time in a room with Lulu. We ended up on a couch together in a room about the size of a standard office. It was dimly lit, and for some reason there was a flat screen TV inside. I’m not at all sure what the point of THAT was.

“Alright honey, you do your thing. I’m just going to turn on Family Matters on Nick at Nite. It’ll provide some good ambiance.”

I wasn’t at all aware of what to expect. I just did it as a bucket list type thing. But the impression I had always gotten from friends was that it would be something like this Jeff Garlin bit…

“You pay a $20 cover, a beautiful nude woman dances inches away from you. You can’t touch her, you can’t touch yourself, and you give her all your money. That’s what hell has to be like.”

This thing with Lulu? Not like that at all. I won’t go into specifics, but let’s just say she let me take certain…liberties that I may not have gotten with other girls in other clubs. Nothing too extreme, but I get the feeling she was happy to be spending time with a guy like me, as opposed to your portly trucker type.

One thing I’ve always remembered about Lulu was that she smelled like Febreeze. I’m guessing the girls spray that kind of stuff on themselves between dances. It didn’t throw me off. It was just…weird.

In the end, Lulu and I hugged…and I’ve never seen her again. It’s funny, this weekend a friend was telling me about how one of her friends became attracted to a stripper on a personal level. His explanation? “She’s different!”

Yeah buddy, they all are. Still, I have to admit that once in a blue moon, Lulu will pop into my mind for no apparent reason. I guess we just want the fantasy to be real sometimes. And who knows? Maybe that’s the case for them too on occasion. That’s something I’d love to ask a stripper some time. Hey, does anybody know one I can interview? That’s a cool feature for Primary Ignition if there ever was one.

Oh c’mon. You’d read it. Don’t even try and tell me you wouldn’t.

Rob

***“Blatant Insubordination” is a regular column published on Primary Ignition, written by Rob Siebert, editor and fanboy wonder. It reflects his views alone, and not those of the staff of Primary Ignition.***

I knew it. I knew it from the very start. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it. There could be no other explanation…

Okay, calm down…just calm down and tell the story…

Image from TubeFilter.tv.

We here at Primary Ignition are big fans of The Nostalgia Critic over at the That Guy With the Glasses website. I know I speak for Eric Stuckart, Justin Polak and myself when I say we’ve spent several accumulated hours in front of our computer screens laughing as he riffs on, pokes fun at, and spoofs movies, TV shows and pop culture moments from the not-too-distant past. Personally, I recommend his review of The Good Son.

The fact that he, like us, is from the Chicago area probably doesn’t hurt. But the bottom line is, this dude’s funny as hell.

Last week, after receiving various requests from his fans, Critic took on one of the most abysmal and pathetic, yet so-bad-it’s-somehow-amazing films of all time: The Room.

Released in 2003, The Room was written, directed and produced by Tommy Wiseau, who also has the lead role in the film. The plot revolves around Wiseau’s character, as his fiancee gets involved with his best friend. What unfolds is a story filled with atrocious acting (mostly by Wiseau), even more atrocious dialogue, plot holes the size of Arizona, and characters and enter and abruptly leave the film as if it were a revolving door to the dredges of cinema.

All these characteristics have made The Room a cult classic, even among genuine Hollywood stars like Jonah Hill, Paul Rudd and Kristen Bell. Movie theaters around the country host showings to raucous fans, anxious to openly mock and laugh at the film. The general consensus seems to be that The Room is so bad, you just HAVE to see it! Even The Nostalgia Critic, after he finished his usual tomfoolery, encouraged his viewers to see the film for themselves.

He wasn’t thanked in kind.

As part of his presentation, the Critic uses various clips from the films he reviews. Walt Disney Pictures, 20th Century Fox, Warner Bros. Pictures, and most of the other major Hollywood studios have had their older films spoofed by the Critic. He can do this legally because (and this is me dusting off my media law knowledge here) of the Fair Use doctrine, a United States copyright law which allows for limited use of copyrighted material without permission from the rights holder, based on the purpose and character of the use. This doctrine not only covers entertainment reviews, but also parodies. Critic’s work falls seems to straddle the line between the two. But either way, he’s covered.

Critic’s review of The Room was posted last week on July 14, but pulled about a day later with no explanation. Which is a shame, because now no one will EVER be able to see that video again. I mean, unless You can find it in a Tube somewhere, it’s been completely wiped out of existence…

A week later, in a follow up video, he let his viewers know why: Tommy Wiseau and Wiseau Films blew the whistle on Critic for copyright infringement.

*head on table* DOYE!!!!!!!

Critic rightfully cited Fair Use in his video, and also hinted that Wiseau, and “John at TheRoomMovie.com” thought the review hurt his good image. In the review, Critic called Wiseau a “5 foot girly-haired French zombie,” “the Bizarro Fabio,” and mocks his accent. But it’s all done within the context of his review, and he never commits any actual slander. Hell, if this case was ever brought before a jury, they probably react the same way everyone else did when they saw the review: with laughter.

In truth, Critic is the real victim here. He was trying to review a movie and make it entertaining for his audience. He had no way of knowing about Tommy Wiseau’s apparently delusional thought process. If you actually watch The Room, it’s clear the entire film is a narcissistic self tribute to Wiseau. That’s why he plastered his name all over the credits, and plays a character that is somehow uber-masculine and sexual, yet at the same time a sensitive, nurturing victim.

This is the same man who today will tell you The Room was meant to be a dark comedy, even though it was obviously intended to be a drama. In 2008, one anonymous cast member told Entertainment Weekly: ”He was trying to put together a drama. It was basically his stage to show off his acting ability.”

As scary as it is, Tommy Wiseau actually got what he wanted. The Room made him into a star. But because he made it with the wrong intentions, he got that stardom for all the wrong reasons. Remember that astronaut lady who went crazy a few years ago, and attacked that woman while wearing a diaper? Tommy Wiseau is the diaper-wearing astronaut of cinema. And when you’re a diaper-wearing astronaut, how badly can someone else really hurt your image?

Sometimes, a man thinks he’s created a work of great art. But when everyone else looks at it, all they can see is a turd. My advice to Tommy Wiseau? Be happy that your turd, which should have been flushed far, FAR away, has managed to bring laughter to so many people. And stop being so damn delusional about it. Accept it, and move on with your life.

As for Critic, Primary Ignition will still be watching…

Front page photo from avclub.com.

***Blatant Insubordination is a regular column published on Primary Ignition by Rob Siebert, editor and Fanboy Wonder***

I’m always trying to do something different with this piece. It’s called “Blatant Insubordination” isn’t it? By the way, that title originated when my boss didn’t like that I’d left the office early one day, and he called me and told me what I’d done was “blatant insubordination!” I love that story. I was Stone Cold Steve Austin that day, just because I’d left the office at 4:30 instead of 5.

But I’d love to use this regular columnish thing I do to try and shake things up, to create something unusual, different, quirky or dare I say…original. I don’t know if I’ll succeed, but it’s definitely a goal worth aiming for.

And with that, we open the glove box in my Honda Civic (be jealous) to see what treasures have been lost to time…

“The glove compartment is a lie in cars, isn’t it? You know, you never have gloves in the glove compartment; you never open it, and 50, 60 pairs of gloves… gloves everywhere, I’m drowning in gloves! Glove death. Inside the glove compartment, there’s usually a bit of an apple, a cassette with no holder, and a map of Belgium, or something, you know?” – Eddie Izzard

Photo from howstuffworks.com.

Item #1: Pack of Disposable Razors
Say what you want about my personal vanity, but my emergency razors concept is a GOOD idea.

Ever catch a glimpse of yourself in your rear view mirror, and realize that when you were shaving, you missed a spot on your cheek or something? That kind of thing drives me apeshit crazy. I’ll spend all day brushing my hand past the spot. Ever find the stray patch of facial hair just before a first date? That shit’ll mindfuck you.

But you can’t have just one emergency razor. What if it dulls? What if you lose it? What if it gets swept under the seat or something? What if the razor you pull out has a torn moisture strip or something? You’ve got to have a BACK-UP emergency razor. And if you’re really smart, you’ll have a back-up for your back-up. Me? I’ve got back-up after back-up after back-up. That way, nobody’ll EVER question my personal hygiene, and they’ll CERTAINLY never question my personal sanity…

Item #2: Empty Prescription Pill Bottle
I think this was an attempt on my part to save time. I have CTD – Chronic Tardiness Disorder. So the only way to get to my old job at a reasonable time was to shift some of my morning ritual into my commute. Breakfast became a couple of cereal bars, and whatever medication I had to take, I popped in the car.

Of course, if you’ve ever commuted to Chicago like I have, you know most of the people on their way to/from the loop drive like they’re on drugs anyway. So it wasn’t really out of place for me to be popping pills at the wheel.

What KIND of pills were they? Um…I can’t remember. In fact much of that time in my life is a big blur…which means the drugs were probably doing their job!

Photo from istockphoto.com.

Item #3: Multi-Colored Paperclips
I’m actually cheating here, as the container of paperclips is actually sitting in my cup-holder. The other day this prompted my girlfriend to say: “Nice paperclips.” To which my reply was something to the effect of: “Shut up.” But I deem them fair game.

I never have a paperclip when I need one. I work part-time as an actor (at least that’s what I tell people), which means I frequently have to submit my resume and headshot to theater companies. The problem is, casting directors and staples have apparently been feuding for years. I suppose they look unprofessional, I’unno.

But the thing about multi-colored paperclips, is you have to be careful about which ones you use for certain auditions. If you use red, you might come on too strong! Blue, you’re a cold human being! White, the clip blends in with the paper and the directors get confused! Pink, well that’s another dilemma altogether…

It’s the subtle messages you send that make a difference. Tom Hanks? He probably had PERFECT colored paperclip rotation when he was starting out.

Item #4: Little Contact Cases
I was house-sitting for a buddy awhile back, and suddenly I realized I had foolishly forgotten my contact lens case. I drove up to a nearby Walgreens and picked up a two-pack of tiny hotel-room-sized contact cases.

Of course, when I got back to the house, they’d vanished. I ended up having to squirt contact solution into a porcelain cup, then putting another upside down porcelain cup on top of that. My contacts had their own little well to sleep in that night. I don’t even know where I found those cases. But they’re in the glove box now.

Item #5: Trojan Non-Lubricated Condom
Inner Voice of Eric Stuckart: “Dude, nobody is going to want to read about the condoms in your glove box.”
Me: “Why not? I think they’re hilarious!”
ES: “What the hell is funny about that?”
Me: “Well, they’re NON-lubricated for one thing!”
ES: “…Really? Why’d you go with the non-lubricated?”
Me: “Why not?”
ES: “I dunno, isn’t that kinda weird?”
Me: “Some of us PREFER the dry route…”
ES: “But how can you take the dry route when you’re swimming in a lagoon?”
Me: “I dunno, but when the real Eric sees this, he’s going to be weirded out.”
ES: “Yeah he is. Er, I mean, I am…”

Image from FilmBuffOnline.com.

Item #6: Green Arrow #23
One of six comic books I picked up at a Chicago shop last week. It’s the first part of a story arc in which Green Arrow teams with Green Lantern Kyle Rayner, and they can’t get along because Ollie misses Hal Jordan. Then Abin Sur’s son comes along and complicates things. Mind you, this was before Hal’s return, before Kyle kind of got pushed to the sidelines.

The story arc is rather poorly written, with some horrid dialogue mixed in there. Plus, the whole story contradicts the little exchange Kyle and Ollie had in Green Arrow: The Archer’s Quest. And for my money, it’s never a good idea to contradict Brad Meltzer.

RATING: 3/10

Front page image from Carid.com.

***Blatant Insubordination is a regular column published on Primary Ignition by Rob Siebert, editor and Fanboy Wonder***

It began as a day like any other. The sun rose in the east, commuters congested the highway in the early morning, copies of Balzac sat untouched and unread, and although they would tirelessly try, the Cubs would inevitably fail to win the next World Series.

But what began as an ordinary day for the state, the country, the continent, the hemisphere, the planet, the solar system, dare I even say the entire milky way galaxy, would change the life of one teenage boy forever.

That boy was me, and this is my story. Perhaps you’ve heard it elsewhere, in other circles. Perhaps certain individuals have chosen to embellish or omit certain details, either for want of a larger audience, or for fear of offending. But rest assured my friends, this is the one and only true, unadulterated version of the tale. I take no pride in telling you this, my friends, but this story is mine to tell. Perhaps it is the story I was destined to tell… 

Image from sbcschools.org.

It begins in a bathroom at Target.

Some of the circumstances of that day remain a mystery, even to me. They are either lost to time, or they have faded away into the murky recesses of my mind. But my memories begin at a moment where I came to an abrupt realization: There inevitably comes a time in life, when a man simply has to do what he has to do.

With that in mind, I made my way to the lavatory inside this fateful Target store. And yes, let’s pull back the curtain so that ALL may know…I sat on that toilet. I pulled the stall door shut, closed the latch, and sat. Judge me if you must, but know that at that point, I was a man just like you. A man who had to poop.

The seconds turned to minutes as I sat, and waited. It was then, in that small Target restroom, that fate stepped in…

In this instance, fate took the form of a geriatric old man. Perhaps I’m being too harsh calling him geriatric, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take. As I recall, the old man made his way across the tile floor with the help of a walker. He wore khaki shorts, white socks, and if my memory serves me correctly, white shoes. As he would soon learn, white was a bad choice on this fateful day.

His legs were skinny, withered by time, and his leg hair was as milky white as a freshly fallen snow. This is how I will always remember him, the image forever etched into my mind, mostly because I was in a bathroom stall, and couldn’t see anything else.

As the old man made his way across the floor, I realized something wasn’t quite right. He was making an odd sound, a grunting sound, or perhaps a groaning. I was no fool. This wasn’t the first time I’d journeyed into a public restroom. I was knowledgeable about the pains one might experience in a place such as this, a place where life’s wrongs were to be forever expunged into an endless man-made abyss.

But this…this was different. Something was wrong, very wrong. There was some sort of inner turmoil bubbling up inside this old man. Some snake, some dragon of conflict fighting to burst it’s way to the surface.

The old man seemed to stagger his way toward the stall next to mine, and struggled with the door. I imagine it must have been tremendously difficult for him, what with his walker inconveniently in front of him. By now I could hear him breathing a bit heavily, but my innocent, naive teenage mind was still unable to comprehend what exactly was happening. As I recall, the old man was able to maneuver his way inside the cubicle. There was a rustling sound, and the man’s pant’s dropped to his ankles. It was then, in that moment, I finally realized the potential ramifications of this situation that the old man and I had now been forced into together.

But it was too late. He was too late. I was too late. We were both too late.

And then he said them. Those five words that I now carry with me inside my soul every waking moment of my existence. Five words that will weigh heavy on my heart until my dying day.

“Oh no…ish comin’ out…”

The first one landed directly in the tiny gap between his shoe and the side of his foot, right where the akilles tendon meets the ankle. The second one landed on the seat of his shorts, a direct hit.

Photo from saynotocrack.com.

These next few moments are blurry. Psychotherapists have told me my subconscious mind has chosen to suppress part of the memories, for fear of permanent scarring. You have to understand my friends, my neighbors, my countrymen, there were different colors. Had this man been eating cotton candy? Had he been eating Skittles? I’ll never know. Had I been stronger that day, perhaps I could have asked him…

Also, the smell. It was as if Chris Farley had risen from the dead, walked into this Target restroom, lit a match in front of his decaying backside, and farted. This was the kind of smell that could peel a fresh coat of paint. The kind of smell that could tip the scales in an epic battle between good and evil. The kind of smell that could end a marriage.

Needless to say, I was mortified. Never in my life had I encountered such a morbid, horrific situation. Yet even as the stench of fear and fecal matter hung ever-so-heavily in the air, I knew what the right thing to do was. Contrary to what you might believe, I am not a man without a sense of nobility, honor, and virtue. The line between right and wrong had been drawn clearly that day, my friends. I could see it there on the tile floor amongst the…well, let’s not go into that.

But alas, as I sit here on this cool spring evening, a slight tremble stretches into my hand as it clutches my brandy. For although that line had been drawn quite clearly, I simply could not bring myself to cross it. Though I reached into the depths of my soul, and clawed at the very bottom of the essence of my humanity, I simply couldn’t do it. And so, I did the only thing I could find it in my soul to do…

I got the fuck out of there.

It wasn’t a run, but it was certainly a brisk walk. I was in a bit of a hurry, but no, there was certainly nothing wrong. Why would you ask? Perhaps the stress of sorting out what to buy amongst Target’s many competitive prices was simply getting to me. That was all…

Turn your judgmental eyes on another tortured soul! I was but a boy, I wasn’t prepared to play God that day! And indeed, I have no doubt that God was with the brave souls who entered that stall moments later, to help that poor soul of a man, who in a moment of weakness, simply lost control.

And so, I returned to my car, my soul temporarily blackened like the anus of an ardvark. It is a blackness that I have never been able to fully wash away. Like a ’90s Pearl Jam song on Q101 F.M. in Chicago, it will likely be a part of me forever.

Scholars have long debated the significance of the word “ish.” Was it simply a slur of speech? Or was it a cry for help? A professor at Phoenix University once presented the theory that “ish” may have been intended a an anagram for the word “shit,” and thus, a cry for help. Perhaps what the old man meant to say was “Tish comin’ out,” or “Isht coming out.” But in the heat of the moment, the t may have simply been lost in a sea of something we dare not speak of or imagine, for fear we might vomit.

You may call me a coward, you may call me crass. But now, all these years later, it gives me comfort to think that man is now dead. Because no matter what happened that day, his struggles, his grunts, his groans, they have subsided, and he is likely at peace.

As for me? I have emptied my glass of brandy, and a single tear now slides down my cheek, as I remain unaware of how I will spend my eternity…

All thanks to that old man and his poop.

Rob

By Rob Siebert
Editor, Fanboy Wonder

Image from DCComics.com.

As we reported last week, Wonder Woman #600 saw the debut of the character’s new costume. The new look incorporates pants and a jacket into her look, as opposed to her trademark Wonder Onesie, which she’s worn for almost 70 years.

J. Michael Straczynski, who next month will take over as the regular writer for the series, went on record saying the character’s new costume allows her “ “to be taken seriously as a warrior, in partial answer to the many female fans over the years who’ve asked, ‘how does she fight in that thing without all her parts falling out?’…It reflects her origins in both the outside world and the world of Amazons: tough, elegant…a street-fighter’s look which also incorporates elements of her classic design…It reflects the two sides warring for ultimate victory, and underscores the path she must take…It’s Wonder Woman for the 21st century.”

Unfortunately, the Amazon Princess’ new look doesn’t seem to be a hit among fans. MTV News reported yesterday that the costume “fails the fandom test.” In a poll, 64 percent of respondents indicated they “hate” the costume, as opposed to the 36 percent who “love” it. Some readers indicated the look was too reminiscent of the ’90s, while some felt it made her look too ordinary. Still others felt that it did indeed make her look more modern and practical.

In addition, Deadline.com reporter Nikki Finke exclaimed: “DC Comics has ruined Wonder Woman, adding that Wondy was the only comic book character she ever admired, and “of course it took a bunch of men to ruin her.” (I wonder if she knows how many women have actually written Wonder Woman. I think you can count them on one hand.)

But hey, that guy from Project Runway likes it! Newsarama spoke to Tim Gunn, who said he loves the new look. “This new look says, ‘I’m confident, I’m powerful, I’m sexy, and don’t mess with me.’ Furthermore, she looks like a citizen of the real world rather than a creature from another land.”

While I feel like a lot of the reporters who’ve been covering this story are people who don’t really understand how the comic book industry works, they do have a point. Wonder Woman is one of a select few comic book characters that has transcended the medium, and been woven into the fabric of Americana. Not only that, but she has something that (dare I say) most other characters don’t: is a special connection with a specific section of the audience. As the decades have gone by, Wonder Woman has become a universal symbol of female power, strength, courage, and individuality. In a country thats has allowed women to vote and run for office for less than 100 years, that’s nothing to sneeze at. Especially when in some countries, women are still relegated to second-class status.

Art from ComicArtCommunity.com.

This may have been what Straczynski, Jim Lee (the man who did the actual redesign), and the rest of the DC Comics braintrust had in mind with the costume change. To some people, Wonder Woman’s costume made her look like a busty pin-up girl in a tiara, pandering to lusty male readers. While I understand where this opinion comes from, I feel like the folks who harbor it are missing the point.

I may not be the most qualified person to discuss this issue (I am a man, after all), but I’ve never felt like Wonder Woman’s costume objectified her. Yes, it might be needlessly skimpy, but that doesn’t take away from her dignity, strength or individuality (Power Girl is another story). To me, the character in her entirety is an example of a woman who is powerful, intelligent and beautiful, which defies our culture’s former expectations that qualities like that have to be mutually exclusive. Putting Wonder Woman in a Hilary Clinton pantsuit doesn’t make her any more dignified or relevant than she was before.

Personally, what I’ve found really interesting about this is that some of my female friends have given the costume the thumbs down. One such woman said: “I’m not liking the new Wonder Woman costume for the comics. I can see where they are going, but she’s not the same…”

Straczynski brought up the practicality aspect of the new costume, and how it makes her look more like a warrior. Also she can fight without her “parts falling out.” I’m not sure why he couldn’t have just said “boobs,” but oh well.

Again, I understand what they’re getting at. But since when do superheroes, i.e. people who can fly, lift automobiles into the air with their bare hands, and deflect bullets with their skin, need to worry about being practical?

Frank Miller has his critics these days, but he once said something that in a lot of cases really rings true with modern superhero books: “I think that there has been an attempt to bring a superficial reality to superheroes that’s ultimately rather stupid. They work best as the flamboyant fantasies they are. These are characters who are broad and big. I don’t really need to see sweat patches under Superman’s arms, I want to see him fly.”

You may not have liked The Spirit, but c’mon, that’s poetry right there.

Ultimately, if this is the path DC wants to take Wonder Woman down, I think we’ll all live. Straczynski, Lee, and the others are smart enough to keep her core essence intact. But given the way comic book fans often react to extreme change, the iconic nature of Wonder Woman’s original costume, and the way things like this have worked in the past (remember when they changed Superman’s costume in the late ’90s?), I’d be surprised if Wondy wasn’t back in her star spangled onesie in just over a year, two years at most.

Truth be told, the character was fine the way she was, and there was no need to try and “modernize” her, or to give us “Wonder Woman of the 21st century.” I mean, what’s with all the black, anyway? She’s an Amazon Princess, not a cast member on CSI: Miami.

I hate to go to another quote, but Alex Ross wrote something about Superman in Mythology: The DC Comics Art of Alex Ross that I think really rings true for Wonder Woman in this case. I’ll paraphrase it…

“Wonder Woman should never reflect any fashionable trend or other affectation of a specific era – hairstyle, speech patterns, etc. She is beyond that. She is out of time.”

“Blatant Insubordination” is a regular column published on Primary Ignition by Rob Siebert, editor and Fanboy Wonder.

Recently, I published a list called What I’ve Learned From Super Mario World. As you undoubtedly know, it’s already become a legendary document in the annals of the world wide web. It’s gotten a reaction not seen since the iconic “2 Girls, 1 Cup” video, which as you recall took home numerous Online Emmy Awards. If I’m not mistaken, Jay Leno read my Mario World story, and his conscious finally caved in. Conan O’Brien is now the host of The Tonight Show again. There’s already a film being made about it starring Stone Cold Steve Austin, Gilbert Gottfried, Dr. Phil and Ice T’s wife…the chick with all the enhancements…what’s her name? Caca? Yeah, her. It’s gonna be great.

Image from pwned.jp.

But what some people don’t know is that the Mario World story was actually the first of a two-part series I wrote in 1995. The second part was called What I Learned From Final Fantasy VII. Now, you gamers are undoubtedly thinking: “How could he have written about Final Fantasy VII in 1995? It wasn’t released until 1997!” True, but the game broke so much new ground that it actually ripped a hole in the space time continuum and travelled two years into the past. So the game you think was released in 1997, was actually released in 1995. If you think hard, you’ll remember it.

What can I say about Final Fantasy VII that hasn’t already been said? Nothing. But I’ll say some stuff anyway: It revolutionized the video game industry by setting the bar for role playing games, and its storyline, characters and soundtrack transcended the video game industry, and profoundly impacted millions around the world.

All that, and it’s educational too!

Lesson 1: It’s Always Good to Have a Back-Up Plan
The main character in the game is Cloud Strife, a freelance mercenary with a huge friggin’ sword (more on that later). The big bad guy he’s fighting is Sephiroth, an evil silver-haired dude who also has a huge friggin’ sword (more on that later). The story revolves around Cloud and his companions trying to stop Sephiroth from destroying the planet. Among Cloud’s companions are Tifa, his provocatively-dressed childhood friend, and Aeris, the angelic flower girl who it turns out is the key to stopping Sephiroth.

You don’t have to look very hard to see the love triangle going on with Cloud, Tifa and Aeris (or Aerith, which is what the game’s Japanese creators actually named her, but somehow it got changed in the American version). Tifa clearly has strong feelings for Cloud, but Cloud and Aeris spend a lot of time flirting. They even go on a date at one point. Aeris has a very sweet, warm-hearted nature. Tifa is the same, but she’s also a strong-willed fighter, so it’s less pronounced. Cloud and Aeris seem to have a bond that is destined to last forever, and become perhaps the first great love story in video game history…

Image from Destructoid.com.

Yeesh…uhh…never mind.

That asshole Sephiroth stabs Aeris through the abdomen, killing her instantly, while Cloud is watching. In terms of how to murder your arch rival’s love interest, Sephiroth gets a 9.5/10 for that one. In addition, he gets a 10/10 on the “Bro, That Wasn’t Cool” scale. Seriously, that’s Cloud’s girl! He didn’t even get to plunge his Meteor into her Lifestream (FF7 fans will get that)! What’s he supposed to do now???

Ohhhh yeah!

Image from Quizilla.com.

I like the Tifa character, but let’s be honest: She was the trashy girl. Yes, she was very nice and all that, but come on…did she really need to fight evil in a sports bra and a miniskirt? Of course not. But with “features” like that, it’d pretty much be a crime if she didn’t.

Cloud initially went for the nice girl. But after the nice girl got stabbed by the prick with the giant sword, he went with Plan B: The trashy girl. It’s a time-honored tradition among men. When you’re down on your luck, or in a dry spell, the trashy girl is there for you. And correct me if I’m wrong…but that is awesome!

So thank you Tifa, for having the guts to be the trashy girl, and the obliviousness to not realize you were someone’s second choice. And hey, trashy girl or not, at least Cloud did better than Sephiroth. All he ever wanted to do was hang out with some weird intergalactic organism, which he called “mother.” Hey, whatever floats your boat there chief…

Image from ScrewAttack.com.

Lesson 2: Getting a Gun Grafted on Your Arm Doesn’t Make You Cool
The charming gentleman on the right is named Barret Wallace. A few years prior to the events of Final Fantasy VII, his right arm was blown off. For some reason, he had a gatling gun grafted in its place instead of some sort of prosthetic. I’m not sure what he was thinking at the time. Maybe that it would be a good way to save money on firearms? Possibly a nice spokesperson gig with the NRA? Who knows? In any event, within the first ten minutes of the game, Barret is introduced as your token shooter character. He’s a mouthy hot-head, who happens to be a single parent. His gun arm packs a nice punch, and he’s handy to have with you in battle…

Later on, you meet Vincent Valentine, who’s been sleeping in a coffin for the last year. He’s the strong silent type, with a cool cape, that can magically transform into monsters when he gets pissed off. His weapon of choice, a simple hand gun. He’s undoubtedly one of the more popular characters in the game. A few years ago, Vincent even got his own title: Dirge of Cerberus: Final Fantasy VII.

Image from CreativeUncut.com.

The moral of this story? Don’t get a gun grafted on to your body thinking you’re going to be all bad ass. Sometimes, it’s as simple as “less is more.” Vincent didn’t need a giant gun to fight the bad guys, and he certainly didn’t need it to impress people. He didn’t give a damn. And in the end, he got the spinoff game. How much do you think it costs to have a gun grafted on to your body? All that money down the drain…

How the hell do you live like that, anyway? How do you make toast in the morning when you’ve got a gun on your arm? Does the gun come with a built in toaster? That’d be the only way you could do it. But even then, how do you open up the bad of bread? You can’t shoot it open. Is there a swiss army knife attachment or something? Maybe instead of a spinoff game, Barret should just come back for a quick Q&A with the fans.

Image from voodoo428.tripod.com

3. Lung Cancer Doesn’t Exist in Video Games
Remember that shot at the end of Ghostbusters, when Ray Stanz lit up a celebratory cigarette after the boys climbed a skyscraper and put an end to Gozer the Gozarian? Cid Highwind does the same thing in FF7. Only he does it after every single battle. Every. Single. One.

In role-playing-games, characters usually have a trademark gesture or motion they do after a battle sequence. Cid’s was to lean his head back and light up a cig. If you look at his head shot on the in-game menu, you’ll see he actually has a pack wedged in his goggles.

I’m not a smoker, but in a sense this is actually kind of cool. It’s a nice little quirk to make Cid stand out from his comrades. To think, in America you can’t even smoke in bars anymore. But still, with all the running that goes on in these games, not to mention all the strenuous fights, you’ve got to wonder how this mofo wasn’t coughing and wheezing the entire time. Do you know how much cardiovascular endurance it must take to fight the evil Shinra corporation? Let alone Sephiroth? Cid’s a freakin’ heart attack waiting to happen.

And yet, somehow when Cloud was out of commission, the team chose him to be their interim leader. That’s like giving the presidency to Dick Cheney or John McCain. Can you follow that logic? Doesn’t make sense to me…

Image from Final FantasyUnion.com

4. It’s Fun To See A Fat Character Made of Old 3D Graphics Hump the Air”
Early in the game, Cloud and Aeris have to infiltrate a gangster’s mansion to obtain some top secret info on the evil Shinra corporation. To do so, they have to try and appeal to the ever-so-horny Don Corneo, who’s looking for his next concubine. The player eventually gets into the Don’s bedroom as either Aeris, Tifa, or a dress-clad Cloud, and gets to watch him…well, air-hump. That’s right, he stands up on the bed and humps the air. He humps to the left, he humps to the right, he humps in the middle. I imagine this is what Tiger Woods did with all those cocktail waitresses he banged. Eventually, the good guys end up threatening to rip Corneo’s balls off and crush them. I’m not joking. That actually happens…

You can’t help but smile. This little game character made of tiny polygons thrusting his crotch at another character. Bowser could never have gotten away with that. Dr. Wily would certainly have lost his license to practice evil medicine. But here’s Don Corneo humping his way to happiness. It’s amazing what you could do in Japan back then that you couldn’t do in America. Our country’s professional mommies got angry when a few red splotches resembling blood showed up in Mortal Kombat. But in Japan, their characters could smoke cigarettes and sexually harass people.

Didn’t the first Tomb Raider come out around this time? Sheesh, let’s put Don Corneo in a room with Lara Croft for three minutes and see what happens…

“Ho ho! A new chickee! Hey baby, wanna see why they call me Tomb Raper?”

5. Sometimes the Sword Makes the Man
Cloud and Sephiroth are our main hero and villain in this game, and if you haven’t noticed, one of the things they have in common is they both have really, really big…swords. Sephiroth has a long, slim one, kind of like an oversized katana blade. Cloud has a big “buster sword” that’s also pretty long, but the blade is also tremendously thick.

Image from AnimeCrazy.net.

The whole thing is a giant penis metaphor if you ask me, which if I’m right, means the scene where Sephiroth kills Aeris by penetrating her with his sword has an ENTIRELY different meaning. But I digress…

Eddie Izzard once said that Darth Vader was only impressive because he had that deep, menacing James Earl Jones voice. If that’s true, the same thing applies to Sephiroth’s sword. Sure, he’s got the black wardrobe going on, along with shoulder pads for some reason. And the flowing silver hair just screams “douche bag.” But he wouldn’t have been nearly as intimidating if he hadn’t had that sword.

“What would happen if someone wounded the planet so badly, it could never heal itself? I’m going to gather up all that spirit energy from the planet, and give it back to mother!”

“Um…dude, did you just come from Hot Topic? Cuz it totally looks like you work there.”

“What? No! I am the great Sephiroth! I shall summon Meteor and make you pee involuntarily!”

“Whatever, dude. You’ve been smokin’ them funny cigarettes, I think.”

Where did he get that sword anyway? They never talked about that in the game. Where do you go when you want a sword that’s as tall as you are?

“You there! Jolly Green Giant!”

“Yes Sephiroth?”

“Can I borrow your nail file?”

“Um…sure. What do you need it for?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Ahh…good times.

Blatant Insubordination is a regular column published on Primary Ignition by Rob Siebert, editor and fanboy wonder.

I’m house-sitting for a friend this week. For the sake of anonymity, we’ll call this friend Eric Stuckart. For me, one of the cool things about house-sitting at Eric’s place is that he’s got a Nintendo Wii. We don’t have a Wii at the Siebert household. I only have primitive gaming systems like Playstation 3.

I didn’t bother with any of the newer games. I’ve come to grips with the fact that, with rare exceptions, I suck at modern video games. That’s why you’ll rarely (if ever) see a video game review on this site written by me. Several years ago I tried playing the original Metal Gear Solid, and…well, it didn’t work out.

Image from jellydonut.wordpress.com.

But yet another good thing about house-sitting for Eric is that he’s such a video game nerd, he’s purchased a lot of old school Nintendo games for the Wii.

That’s where Super Mario World comes in. This game is epic, in scope, quality, and player-friendliness. So much so then when you bought a Super Nintendo back in the day, it game with this game. That’s how confident Nintendo was in it’s flagship franchise, and it’s ability to make a good first impression.

This little trip down memory lane has taught me a lot so far. And what kind of writer would I be if I didn’t share them with you…

What I’ve Learned From Super Mario World This Week

Art from 411mania.com.

1. Yellow Capes Are Only Cool If You’re Wearing A Red Shirt
So few of us can rock the yellow cape and make it work. It’s a risky fashion statement if there ever was one. Off the top of my head, I can only think of one person that made it work prior to Mario World, and that’s Robin. I’m talkin’ vintage Robin from the ’40s. But Mario took a risk in this game, and it paid off. I mean, you know he probably took a little flack for it. At one point, I’m guessing one of the Koopa kids probably shouted: “What? You think you’re bad because you’re wearing all three primary colors?” But somehow it just works.

The common factor between Mario and Robin? The red shirt. That’s the only thing I can think of. Look at Luigi. His shirt is green, and he looks like he just escaped from a day care center for man-babies.

That’s why Mario always goes first. You never lead with a man-baby.

2. Turtles Wear Wife-Beaters Under Their Shells
Did you ever notice this? You’ll occasionally see Koopa Troopas doing something without their shells on, and they appear to be wearing boxer shorts and wife beaters. Do Koopas Troopas all come from some trailer park in Arkansas? Is it that hot under those things? You’d figure they’d be used to being in them without having to wear undershirts…

3. Never Tell Michael Crichton or Stephen Spielberg About Your Adventures
You just know that Mario came back from Dinosaur Island, had a few drinks with his buddy Michael Crichton,and told him all about the mess that happened on that island filled with dinosaurs, including the one he rode half the time. Suddenly, Crichton gets this brilliant idea for a book called Jurassic Park, about an island filled with humans and dinosaurs. Then Stephen Spielberg catches wind of it, and makes a hugely successful movie. Mario wasn’t even mentioned in the credits. Not that he needed the money, but it probably would have been nice for him to have a few extra bucks stashed away. Especially since Jurassic Park came out the same year as the Super Mario Bros. movie.

Photo from Babble.com.

4. We Really Need to Keep An Eye on Kate Gosselin
Bowser has 7 children. In this game (as in Super Mario Bros. 3) he gave each of them a castle, on a different part of the island. He also gave himself a castle with his name in big bright flashing letters on it, so we’d conveniently know where he lives.

Kate Gosselin has 8 children. Earth has 7 continents. That means she can send each child to a land mass, with one to add for emphasis. Plus, she’s got to put her own castle somewhere… I’m just saying keep it in mind. I just don’t want to be the guy that says “I told you so.”

Hey, what about the Octo-mom???

5. Music Always Sounds Better Underwater
Whenever there’s an underwater level, the melody just gets so soft, smooth and peaceful. Whoever wrote that song unintentionally found the cure for insomnia. You could have five of those crazy-just-woken-up  Cheep-Cheeps (remember those?) nipping at your feet, and this song would still put you at ease. It’s just too bad it took them that long to write something like that. I feel like if Bowser had heard that song before the original Super Mario Bros., he probably would have re-thought the whole world-conqueror thing. By Mario World, he’d at least have been re-thinking it.

“Eh, you know what? It’s not worth it. Sure, I’m going to need some therapy. And my kids are gonna need electro-shock therapy…but it beats the alternative. And hey, at least I got this cool little upside-down-helicopter clown thing out of the deal.”

6. Mario Was Better Without A Voice
Sorry Italian-Americans, but it’s true. Mario’s voice turned him into something of a giant stereotype. I mean, who says “Mama Mia?” Plus, after they gave him one they had to give one to Luigi, Bowser, Wario, the Princess, even Donkey Kong. Does Donkey Kong even talk? I can only ever remember him doing that gorilla grunt of his. And yet, he has to make some kind of sound, doesn’t he?

Hearing Mario talk was kind of like finding out what your favorite radio DJ looks like. Sure, she sounds like a hot chick, but then you go to the web site and see her picture, and you have to cancel all those stalker-flowers you ordered…

Ah, good times.

Image from Twilightgear.net.

Blatant Insubordination is a regular column published on Primary Ignition by Rob Siebert, editor and fanboy wonder. This edition contains a bit of bad language, so reader beware.

Kristen Stewart really needs to stop talking. Or at the very least, she should be kept away from live microphones.

If you don’t know who Kristen Stewart is, chances are you’ve at least seen her face somewhere. She’s the female lead in the Twilight movies, so her likeness has been mass marketed to the point that it can be seen in every Wal Mart, K Mart and Target store in the world. She was also in The Runaways, Adventureland and Into The Wild.

Stewart is unlike some of her Hollywood peers in a lot of ways. Do an interview with her, and you’ll probably be surprised at some point by why she says. When The Twilight Saga: New Moon was coming out, I read an interview (the magazine escapes me at this moment) where she somewhat jokingly talked about how Pattinson and Taylor Lautner were being objectified in the film. Needless to say, that’s something you don’t expect to hear from someone who stars in that same movie.

The 20-year-old starlet tends to spout off comments that are a mix of political incorrectness and naivety. For instance, she once told Vanity Fair that she hopes to go to college for literature, and while she loves what she does, “it’s not all I want to do—be a professional liar for the rest of my life.”

A professional liar? Really?

Liar or not, her Twilight role made her a household name. And of course, whenever any young woman becomes a star in Hollywood, the paparazzi have a new meal ticket. Her rumored romance with co-star Robert Pattinson only added fuel to the fire, much to Stewart’s apparent chagrin. She’s clearly a woman who likes her privacy, and doesn’t appreciate the constant presence of photographers.

During a  promotional event for The Twilight Saga: Eclipse earlier this week in Sydney, Australia, Stewart told E Magazine the following: “It’s so… The photos are so… I feel like I’m looking at someone being raped...A lot of the time I can’t handle it. It’s fucked. I never expected that this would be my life…What you don’t see are the cameras shoved in my face and the bizarre intrusive questions being asked, or the people falling over themselves, screaming and taunting to get a reaction. All you see is an actor or a celebrity lit up but a flash. Your little persona is made up of all the places that people have seen you and what has been said about you…And usually the places that I am are so overwhelming in the moment and fleeting for me – like one second where I’ve said something stupid, that’s me, forever.”

Stewart caught a lot of heat for that rape comment, for which she later apologized, adding that “violated” would have been a better word.

While I admire Kristen Stewart commenting on the well-documented overbearing nature of the paparazzi, and am sympathetic toward her to an extent, quite frankly, she needs to stop whining. And that’s what she’s doing, she’s whining, pissing and moaning.

Folks, America has been obsessed with it’s Hollywood stars almost since the birth of the movie industry. Clark Gable, Joan Crawford, Mae West, Humphry Bogart, Jimmy Stewart, and don’t even get me started on subsequent stars like Marilyn Monroe. If TMZ had been around back then, they’d have been all over these folks. But the concept of fame has evolved. Magazines like Us Weekly or OK! can print front page stories about how some actress is allegedly pregnant, or how somebody’s mother is dying. Hollywood news media gets personal, because readers want personal. And that’s something you have to know if you’re going to go down that road.

Kristen Stewart wanted to be an actress and be in movies. She was successful, and is now one of the most widely recognized faces in American culture (whether that’s sad or not is a matter of personal taste). She accomplished her goal, and has reached a level of monetary success most people only dream of.

And that’s exactly why she needs to shut the hell up. Does the big time movie actress not want her picture taken? Too bad. You signed up for this. Kristen, do you have some idea how many young would-be actresses  would commit brutal, bloody, heinous murder to achieve the success you have? To have people even want to take pictures of them in the first place? If you think what’s happening to you is rape or violation, then move over. Because there are thousands, if not millions of American women (not to mention men) willing to bend over and take it up the tailpipe for even a fraction of what you have.

Photo from Celebutopia.net.

By the way, how much money have you made off these Twilight movies so far? How much are you set to make in the years to come because of the success you’ve garnered from them? You’re literally set for life. Once your Twilight contract is up, you won’t have to work another day in your life. Meanwhile, this country’s unemployment rate is higher than it’s been in decades. College graduates are sitting at home waiting for their lives to begin, meanwhile you don’t even have a college degree and have made more money than most of them ever will. Mind you, these are the same people that buy tickets to your movies, and increase interest and demand for you as an actress.

And by the way, wipe that smug fucking look off your face. Wanting to major in literature, playing the guitar, and saying off-color things in interviews doesn’t make you this grand, unique thinker. While I admire your honesty in some cases, you tend to come off as a rude, ignorant brat. If you don’t want to be a star, don’t be a star. Step out of the limelight. Go on, I dare you. But meanwhile, at least pretend to enjoy being out amongst the people that made you a star.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not siding with the paparazzi. While they do have a right to take photos in public places, they have no right to be rude or needlessly intrusive. But Kristen Stewart needs to accept that part of that comes with the job, and the path she took in life. You take the bad with the good. You reap what you sow.

What’s really frustrating about this, is that because of Twilight’s popularly, Kristen Stewart has the potential to be a role model, and really have a positive influence on the lives of young people around the world. But apparently she’d rather smoke her cigarettes and whine. And you know what? That’s fine with me. I’m hoping that after these Twilight movies come and go, Stewart’s fame will wane, and she’ll learn a lesson or two in humility.

Rob

Front page image from Wallpaperez.com.

Blatant Insubordination is a regular column published on Primary Ignition by Rob Siebert, co-editor and Fanboy Wonder.

I was saddened to hear last week that NBC is pulling the plug on Heroes. Not because it’s been particularly wonderful to watch lately. To be honest, I gave up watching several weeks ago. The whole show had just become too discombobulated for me. Characters kept switching from good to bad, or vise versa. Some people would have different superpowers at different times. Certain characters were either not evolving enough, or were simply changing too many times. The whole thing became kind of a mess.

But it was such a good show…at one point.

Photo from NYMag.com.

To say the least, the concept of people with superpowers wasn’t new when Heroes went on the air. But what made it unique, at least from my perspective, is that it was an ensemble show, about people from all walks of life, and how their powers effected their existence. We had an idealistic male nurse, a high school cheerleader, a Japanese paper pusher, a single mom, an aspiring senator, a serial murderer, among others. To its credit, Heroes started off as a very character-driven show. For me, that’s what made it interesting, and so much fun.

It also had some moderately recognizable faces in its cast. Ali Larter of Varsity Blues and Final Destination fame was there. As was Milo Ventimiglia, who’d been in Gilmore Girls and Rocky Balboa. Jack Coleman is also a veteran of TV and movies.

So…what happened?

Well, a variety of things happened. There wasn’t one particular ingredient that did the show in. I think most Heroes fans will tell you that season 1 was an unbridled home run. But after that, the show went through a lot of peaks and valleys.

One of the things I really liked about season 1 was that it followed a bunch of different story beats. The Petrelli family had one, the Bennet family had one, Sylar had one, Hiro and Ando, Matt Parkman, Niki Sanders, Mohinder Suresh, etc. For the most part, the characters didn’t interact with people outside their beat. But what they all had in common, powers or not, was their stories were all going to intersect in this big moment during the season finale.

But after that, the initial thrill of all these characters meeting was gone, so we lost some of that character intrigue. By season 3, they were regularly interacting with one another. I think that took a lot of the wind out of the show’s sails. Heroes was very much an ensemble show, but I think that ensemble should have been spread farther across the stage.

Photo from SciFiScoop.com.

The show also had a problem with characters juggling superpowers. This was especially true with Peter Petrelli and Sylar. Both represent classic character archetypes, the idealistic hero and the greedy, sadistic villain. We would later find out that both Sylar and Peter were “sponges” (my word, not the show’s), and that they could absorb and keep other people’s powers. For Sylar, this was used as a plot device. He was always greedy for more abilities, and the fact that he had to slice people’s skulls open to get them was a nice touch. But after awhile, especially after a couple of seasons, this got confusing. Particularly in Peter’s case, it became a constant question of: Alright, what power does he have this week? That wasn’t good, as Peter was such an important, moral center to the show, and it weakened his character.

With Sylar, I think the writers developed a bit of a Superman problem. Every season he got to be so powerful, they constantly had to come up with different ways to neutralize or debilitate him. He’d lose his powers, get captured by The Company, lose his memory, get brainwashed into thinking he was someone else. Like a lot of the creative teams who’ve written for Superman, it seemed like the Heroes staff was always struggling to come up with ways to challenge Sylar, so he couldn’t just kill everybody and call it a TV show. It seemed to work alright, but it was so much more fun just to watch Sylar be his sadistic, murderous self.

Image from Bebo.com.

The writers also placed too much importance on the Claire Bennet character for my taste. From a marketing standpoint, that made sense I suppose. Hayden Panettiere is a hot chick, and guys love to watch hot chicks. But too much of anything isn’t good. The common thread through Claire’s different story arcs was that she always seemed to be trying to “find herself,” and form an identity that had a foot in the normal world, and a foot in the “hero” world. But after awhile it got stale. That’s very much evident in the stunt they pulled during season 4, which saw her go away to college and get a lesbian roommate, who would later kiss her on the air. Cheap. Very cheap.

Characters were also prone to dying, then coming back to life. Ali Larter’s character was killed off in season 3. But we later learned she conveniently had a twin sister. The Nathan Petrelli character was killed off twice, and even after that, they had a brainwashed Sylar portray him (he was a shapeshifter at that point). The show seemed reluctant to trim the fat at certain points.

By season 3, the writing was on the wall. The show’s writing staff was changed. Whether the new writers lacked the proper perspective or grasp of the characters is anybody’s guess. Perhaps it was evident in the end product.

It’s just such a shame Heroes became what it did, and met the fate it did. As great as it was at times, it had the potential to be so much greater. But you can’t always get ratings with potential. Rumor has it NBC is considering bringing it back for a one-hour special or a TV movie to wrap up loose strings, so I suppose there’s still a chance it could go out on a high note.

Either way, we’ll always have season 1…