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In my full frontal attack on Six Flags last episode I neglected some
subscriber responses to the Austin Powers rant:
>That said, Austin 3.0 is hilarious. It takes the endless dick and
>boob jokes to the limit and though it drags a bit towards the end,
>when they actually focus on the story, I haven't laughed this many
>times in a single film in a long time. So, though I can't say
>"nobody does it better", Myers definitely does it well. Yet again,
>Dr. Evil steals the movie, though I think the cameos by the likes of
>Tom Cruise and Danny Devito got the loudest laughs.
>I find it odd that various critics are saying they don't want kids
>exposed to this potty humor, yet there is not one exposed breast,
>not one exposed gold member, and only a sparse few moments of mild,
>cartoonish violence. Even the F word is bleeped out (as a joke) so
>to those who say this is too much for kids these days - lighten the
>fuck up. What do you think your kids talk about when you're not
>around? Only in puritanical cultural backwaters like America do
>people get their panties in a wad when their kids are exposed to
>mild sexual content, yet don't bat an eye as they buy their kids
>video games in which they get to simulate hundreds of murders in
Hey, I'm a mom. I like to think that I'm a pretty cool mom but I
don't like exposing my kids to "potty" humor in films. 8 year old
boys have a hard time using discretion. We are trying to teach him
that there are appropriate times for such things. Kids idolize
anyone they see in a movie. If everyone thinks that AP is sooo cool
then alot of kids will follow in APs footsteps with the jokes he
makes. It's all part of growing up and finding yourself. There's
enough shit in this world to worry about when you're growing up. I
don't want his concentration to be on the image he presents but
rather the substance of his person. AP is glamorous to kids and the
glamor part takes over their ability to make a sound judgement and
There is a big difference in this type of humor in the media and
violence in the media. The difference for me is that people use
"potty" humor all the time - our kids are surrounded by it. My son
has plenty of boob jokes - some he uses around and us and some he
saves for his friends, I'm sure. We did it when we were kids.
That's what kids do when they are away from their parents. We make
jokes in our house with the kids. But I don't need someone else
teaching him these things. I want my sons to understand that it's
not always appropriate. Especially if the humor is derogatory and/or
directed at someone specifically. Austin Powers does not tell you
that if you joke about the size of your cock in school you are going
to be expelled. It's all about the context in which subject matter
Violence, on the other hand is NEVER an ok action and I am very
adamant about that. We play video games with the understanding that
they are GAMES. I don't think that a video game is going to make him
think he can go out and blow up his school because he had a bad day.
It's not a realistic thought for "most" children. There are always
exceptions and it depends on the environment that a child is raised
Just for the record, i do let him see violence on TV but it is
usually of a true or historical nature (ie. Dances with Wolves). He
sees drug use - because is it real and it's affects have directly
effected his upbringing. I want him to see the reality of the world
we live in but I don't want him around the things that have been
Glamorized by the media.
Friday we returned to The Chamber after several years of avoiding the
place. What struck me immediately is how little anything has changed
since the first time I walked into the place back in the early 90's.
Same music (all thumping bass, heavy on the techno industrial style),
same fashions (all black, heavy on the rubber, vinyl, metal and other
techno industrial style), same décor (all black, heavy on the steel,
concrete, and, well, techno industrial style.) It's not often you
find somewhere that can stick with a fad so long, especially one that
has long since fallen by the wayside, and with such intensity. But
somehow the joint still draws a crowd, albeit a smaller one for the
burlesque show promised that Friday night.
Sometime after 11 with no warning the curtains opened to reveal the
stage with a large cooking pot, like the kind you see in cartoons
featuring cannibals, on a fake fire. Calu Morton came slinking out
half dressed as a sexy headhunter, eliciting gasps from both myself
and SW, followed by Ginger Stacy from the other side of the stage
done up as an African explorer, also getting oohs and aaahs from the
crowd. A short skit followed that involved some undressing, but all
too soon it was over.
We slid over to the bar and chatted it up with some folks I see at
such events and conventions and such and had a few drinks before we
realized it was time for Dita Von Teese, so we snuggled up against
the stage just as everyone else realized it was time for the show and
followed. A few minutes later Dita appeared, dressed to kill and with
a bod to match. Most folks just stood paralyzed, but a lot of folks
hollered their approval as she slowly stripped her complex outfit
down, then picked up a pair of feathered fans to strip down to
pasties and a g-string. Super sexy, but I didn't feel the show alone
justified the $10 cover. I supposed if you were into the black
fashion fetish techno scene that is The Chamber you'd have gotten
your money's worth but for SW and I it was just a primer for
Tease-O-Rama 2002 in San Fran next month.
Speaking of SW, somehow we missed the announcement that her favorite
artist, Beck, is in town next Tuesday and now the show has sold out.
Anyone got tix?
As the kids grumble and return to school after a couple of months of
slack time, I, too, am returning to the "real" world. But I didn't
get the carefree summer by the pool or the trip to the beach, I'm
coming back after 10 nail-biting months of mostly unemployment.
But the sensation is much the same as those kids. Getting up earlier
than I'm used to, getting my book bag together, hoping I have all the
paperwork done, hustling out the door after a quick breakfast.
But when I arrive it's more like indoctrination day for the Marines -
pep talks by a sergeant-like HR person, then a long wait, then
countless forms, then a long wait, then a presentation by another HR
person who drones on and on, then another long wait, then
confirmation of my fingerprints, drug screening, background checks,
then a long wait, then a hurried drive to the base... uh... client
site. They check my ID at the gate, then again in the lobby, when
indoctrination turns to imprisonment as I'm escorted to my 6'x6' dark
gray cell, AKA Fifth Floor Cube E20. From my cell I have no idea if
it is day or night, raining or clear, as the nearest windows are
locked behind windowless office doors. Only the digital readout on my
phone shows that time is passing at all in the quiet hiss of climate
controlled silence. They were supposed to manacle me to a rock with a
hammer in hand, AKA get my computer up and running, but when I arrive
the cell is barren. Its gloominess is compounded by the sagging
canvas on one wall, the sterility of fluorescent lighting, and the
warmth of a cube that is too far from the nearest vent with walls too
high for the air to get into anyway.
I am in hell.
But hell pays, and I've always said "If you liked it they wouldn't
have to pay you to do it."
So on day 2 when my hammer and rock are still nowhere to be seen I
make the rounds to the neighboring cells, swapping stories with other
inmates. None of them seem to be interested in a daring escape, a
break past the armed guard in the lobby, a mad rush for a car in the
lot, past the armed guards at the gate and smashing out into the free
Guess I'll have to formulate an escape plan of my own.
At exactly 5 PM my plan comes to fruition. It's a shift change for
the guards in the lobby and I slip out unnoticed. I leap into a
borrowed car parked around back, out of sight, and while the guards
are looking the other way I slide out behind a delivery truck going
through the gates. Out onto the highway where I confront yet another
long wait in traffic. Choppers overhead - they must have realized I'd
Home again, it seems like too short of a wait before the alarm is
raised and next thing I know I'm back in the cell.
Why do I do this?
Sometimes I forget during the long wait between *paychecks.*
There was a friend of mine on murder
And the judge's gavel fell
Jury found him guilty
Gave him sixteen years in hell
He said "I ain't spending my life here
I ain't living alone
Ain't breaking no rocks on the chain gang
I'm breakin' out and headin' home
Gonna make a jailbreak
And I'm lookin' towards the sky
I'm gonna make a jailbreak
Oh, how I wish that I could fly
All in the name of liberty
All in the name of liberty
Got to be free
Jailbreak, let me out of here
Jailbreak, sixteen years
Jailbreak, had more than I can take
From AC/DC's "Jailbreak"
Consider me still in the job market...
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