“OK, see, the thing I’ve got in my head is that we’re finally nearing the Armageddon because even the Godless are starting to freak out. Hollywood, that’s the Gomorrah of our time, and what’s going on? Religion. Look at it: Da Vinci Code, The Omen, that Mel Gibson thing with the Indians, even that Al Gore Truth movie’s about a liberal freak-out. The Break-Up’s about figuring out godlessness and even X-Men is about defeating the mutant who goes against God. Nacho Libre takes place in a monastery. Poseidon, too, is a remake of a film with a priest at its center, even though it has a name reflecting ancient, heretical gods.
“A stretch, you say? Have you seen those movies? You saw Mission: Impossible–notice I didn’t mention that one. They said Jesus was a stretch my friend. And until you’ve walked in the valley, as I have, down at Southdale, let me tell you, you can’t see it. Hollywood’s scared, scared of the savior, scared of the end of time…”
…
“If you ask me, The Break Up ought to be about how a sexy woman like Jennifer Aniston breaks the hell up with that fat bastard, what’s his name, and all his fat friends. Why the hell would any girl that looked like Jenn-A sleep with a tub like that?”
…
“I sometimes wonder if that Muslim thing isn’t such a good idea–graven images and all, you can’t have likenesses of Allah and such. OK, you can’t have a likeness of Mohammed, whatever. I’m thinking more of Christ and God, this stuff applied to Christianity. Yeah, you’d lose all that great art but you wouldn’t have the Da Vinci Code either. Or that 3-D Jesus I saw at a garage sale last week. They’re both freakshows–mark my words, you’ll see dozens of copies of the book and the movie along with that Left Behind shit at the sales in just a year. Scary, man, truly scary…”
…
“You know what would be cool? If there was a Yugo in that Cars movie. I saw one of those on the highway, and it seemed to me like you get a lot of jokes out of that. Old jokes, maybe, but I liked Yugos…”
…
“Well, now, I’ve listened to nearly nine hundred shows of A Prairie Home Companion in a row, without break. 882 to be precise. To my knowledge, I’ve heard every show there is, and I have a record of every guest and song and advertisement. The joke ads, that is. I began at the dawn of my streak, but have since added journals that reflect recordings I’ve heard that weren’t in chronological order. Someday, someone at Minnesota Public Radio will want this information.
“My problem is trying to figure out where to put the movie. Because I saw it, as well as listened. I’ve seen the show live twice, but there wasn’t a conflict because it was a broadcasted show. Obviously, the movie has not been broadcast. Also, were the musical guests real? Do they count? One of them died backstage, but of course he isn’t really dead. And then again Meryl Streep actually appeared at the Hollywood Bowl show, which I have notes for.
“I’m thinking the best solution is a separate volume for the movie, don’t you think? With specific details? Good idea… perhaps I should write Mr. Keillor…”
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“Over The Hedge was stupid. I hate Over The Hedge! I want to see Cars but I hate Over The Hedge! Why can’t I see Cars? I hate Over The Hedge!”
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“OK, so it’s gross and I’m crazy. But I would lick the sweat and bugs off Guy Pierce anytime…”
…
“So there’s this new Texas Chainsaw Massacre, OK? And they’ve got this website, with the sound of creaking signs and stuff, OK? So I go to check out the trailer, and I can’t–’cause you can’t see it until after ten p.m., OK? Damn, man, this sumbitch is gonna have some gore, right in the preview. I’m waitin’, waitin’, can’t wait, and ten comes, and the God-damn thing’s nothing more than a normal short–nothing scary, just the usual. The movie might be good, but shit, wait ’til ten, there’s got to be some real cuttin’ up, heads and stuff, OK? Well, there’s not. Nothing. God-damn.”
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“Wow. I wouldn’t want to be that Brandon guy from the new Superman. Look at Christopher Reeves–and the guy from the TV show offed himself. Cursed, that’s all there is to it. At the least, the guy’s going to lose his shirt in the stock market…”
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“God, summer movies suck my brains out my eyes…”
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