The obsolete yet still gorgeous original logo for this blog designed by Scott Cole.
Perhaps you've noticedsome changes on this blog lately. You'll soon notice more. Dead 2 Rights was originally set up as the official blog of Wayne Kotke, a fictional character I created and portrayed for almost five years on the Mail Order Zombie podcast. In the beginning, I made an attempt to write the blog "in character" as Wayne and include as much zombie-related content as I could.
Over the years, though, I strayed further and further away from the original premise and just started writing about whatever interested me. The zombie references became less frequent and more perfunctory with each passing year. And now... well, they've come to a stop altogether. Wayne Kotke was a character created especially for Mail Order Zombie, and I have decided that he should expire along with that show. MOZ airs its final episode on Thursday, April 25, and that's the last you'll be hearing from Wayne.
From here on out, Dead 2 Rights is my personal blog and will be written under my own name. All the old content is still here, so if you want to look for Zomby cartoons, you'll still be able to find them. Who knows? I may even create more cartoons with that character in the future. But for the most part, D2R will be about my own life, opinions, and interests. I hope you will join me as the blog enters the next stage of its evolution.
It was bound to happen eventually. Wayne has crossed the line, folks.
Ain't I a stinker? Handsome, though.
I've been producing "Wayne Kotke" segments for the Mail Order Zombie podcast since September 2008, and during that time, I've used my few moments at the end of the show to experiment with all kinds of humor: morbid, irreverent, occasionally satirical, and possibly even tasteless. Surprisingly, considering this is the Internet, there's been very little negative feedback to any of this. Oh, there have been a couple of mild complaints over the years, but nothing too substantial. I think the key to all of this is that the MOZ segments are done in a lighthearted, all-in-good fun sort of spirit. The Wayne Kotke character is nothing if not upbeat. He's the eternal optimist, always sure he's onto the next great idea and totally unconcerned with the consequences of his actions. It never occurs to him that anyone could take offense at what he says. Over the years, I've been testing the boundaries of what people will accept from this character. Wayne has no real "filter," so he cheerfully admits to all sorts of bad behavior: copious drug and alcohol consumption, the sale of illicit substances (sometimes to schoolkids), insurance fraud, mail fraud, a whole host of scams and schemes, and many, many murders. I've sometimes wondered if anyone would ever take offense at one of these segments, but hardly anyone has.
Well, citizens, my luck finally ran out this week.
Garfield: No fan of Mondays
The hosts of Mail Order Zombie have deemed one of my "Wayne Kotke" segments too potentially offensive and/or controversial to air on their program. That's their prerogative, of course. It's their show, after all, not mine. I was surprised by their decision, however. The segments I do for MOZ are so intentionally outlandish that it's difficult to take them
seriously. And besides, Wayne is just a fictional character. He's nothing like me at all. He only "exists"
on the MOZ podcast and on this blog, though lately I've been ignoring
him here and writing more personal articles. You may not agree with
everything Wayne says -- I certainly don't -- but you can't really debate
him because he's basically just a cartoon character. You might as well
write a complaint letter to Garfield, informing him that Monday is a
perfectly fine day of the week, thank you very much, and that you've never cared much for
lasagna either. If I haven't made it clear before, let me say it now: Wayne is just a silly character, and the segments I do for MOZ are purely intended for entertainment, not as advocacy for any real world political or social issues.
However, the hosts of Mail Order Zombie felt that the following segment might offend members of the MOZ listening audience because it pokes fun at the Tea Party and Occupy Wall Street movements. The segment is completely nonpartisan, and I tried to make it as balanced as possible, but the hosts of the podcast still felt it could cause a problem for them. I can sympathize with that. But still in all, I did spend some quality free time writing, recording, and editing the damned thing, so I didn't want to just scrap it completely. With the MOZ hosts' consent, therefore, I am now posting the segment here on this blog so that you can listen and decide for yourself whether it goes too far. Warning: Mild political satire (with brief profanity) ahead!
So... were you offended?
I honestly and sincerely hope not. This segment, like all the others I've done for the podcast, was just a comedy sketch and not an editorial. My segments for MOZ tend to be about whatever I find funny or interesting at the time. The week that I wrote this (and by now it's about a month old), I was suffering from severe post-election fatigue and wanted to write something about that which was even-handed and took both sides to task in a gently humorous way. This segment was nowhere near my favorite bit for MOZ, but I still wanted it to be heard. If you listened to it, thank you. And if you were truly upset by it... well, there's a comments section below just waiting for you. Feel free to use it as you see fit.
I don't know about you, but I sometimes have a tough time remembering things. I have to write them down or else I'll forget. So I'm always scribbling little notes to myself on any piece of paper handy -- envelopes, junk mail, Post-Its, etc. Here, for future historians, is one such note. It's probably illegible to you, so I'll transcribe it.
Fat Nerds: Sorry for the bluntness of the language, but this is the seed for a potential article in which I discuss my theory that many so-called "nerds" have weight issues because jocks intimidated them as children and made them associate exercise with bullying. I have dealt with weight issues myself, incidentally.
Beard/No Beard: Another potential article. Quite simple, really. I might be gingerly entering the dating scene soon, and I wanted to solicit women's opinions on whether I look better with or without facial hair. I'm currently clean-shaven, but I've done the whole beard thing, too.
The Ward: Before the experience gradually fades from my memory, I thought I should write an article about what it's like to be in a psych ward. I want to record it for posterity's sake so that I can read it later.
White Album/NOTLD: This is actually something I want to do for the Mail Order Zombie podcast. Since the Beatles' White Album and George Romero's Night of the Living Dead both came out in 1968, I want to do an audio piece which combines the two. This is super-ambitious and complicated, so it may have to wait. I want it to be good.
(in the margin)Sheep/Manger: For the Christmas season, I am planning to write a short story for this blog revolving around the Nativity. It will involve sheep and the manger.
There you have it: some genuine Wayne Kotke ephemera! Hope you enjoyed it!
This is me shortly after my time in the hospital. Smile, darn ya, smile!
This will be a very different kind of poston the Dead 2 Rights blog. Depending on my whims, it might be the first in a series of very different posts. I don't know right now. I've just been through an experience and wanted to write about it, and I figured this place was as good as any.
First, some introductions are in order. My name is Joe Blevins. Although I've lived in Illinois for the past 11 years, I was born in Flint, Michigan in 1975 and lived in that area until 2001. I am 37 years old, live alone in a one-bedroom apartment, and currently make my living at a market research firm in Chicago. Single. Never married. No kids. Since 2008, I've been contributing regularly to the Mail Order Zombie podcast as a character called "Wayne Kotke," and I've been writing this blog under his name since October 2009. In fact, we are just about coming up to the third anniversary of this blog. If you'd like to wish me a happy anniversary, please feel free.
I also suffer from anxiety and depression, and this week I was hospitalized for those conditions.
Let me explain. Depression is something I've had in my life since I was a child. It's always been a part of who I am. If I have a sense of humor, that humor is informed by my depression. As silly as they are, my posts on this blog and my segments for MOZ are manifestations of my feelings of inadequacy and sadness. They're my attempts to channel those emotions into something positive. I'm not sure how well it has succeeded, but if you have derived any pleasure whatsoever from my work, that is deeply satisfying to me. Thank you.
I'm not exactly sure where the depression comes from. I was raised in a stable and loving middle class home, and I have no major illnesses, handicaps, or chemical addictions. I was bullied and ostracized frequently as a child in school, though, and I think this is where a lot of my fear originates. I have a deep, stubborn distrust of others and a formidable fear of rejection, so it is difficult for me to make connections with other people. It's fortunate that, either thanks to geographical convenience or participation in extracurricular activities, I always had a support system of friends through those troubling school days.
Your blogger in high school
However, all of my problems intensified in 1993 when my mother died of cancer. I was in my last year of high school at the time, and I was closer to her than to anyone else in my family. My only sibling, an older sister, left home a year or so later and wound up getting married and starting a family in Indiana. I was left alone with my father, who was shattered by my mother's death and still to this day has not totally recovered.
Post high school, I spent a very dark decade living with my father. During that time, while my friends went away to school and started their lives, I lived at home, commuted to college by car, and wound up working at a nearby call center as a customer service rep, a job for which I was especially unsuited. After high school, I lost touch with most of my old friends and never bothered (or risked) making new ones. This was the beginning of my still-ongoing reclusive stage.
In February 2001, I attempted suicide by taking every pill I could find in the medicine cabinet. After two harrowing days in the ICU and one very scary night in the psych ward, a locale that haunted me for years, I returned to working at the call center and living with my father. But this arrangement would not last long.
In August 2001, despite a lot of guilt-tripping from my father, I moved to Illinois in order to take a teaching job. Even though I was happy to be out on my own and living independently for the first time in my life, I soon realized that a person's problems travel with him when he moves to a new location. My old issues of fear, anxiety, and depression prevented me from being a good teacher, and I failed miserably at the profession for two grueling, discouraging years. By that time, I was so overwhelmed by fear and sadness that I didn't feel I could accomplish anything.
After a few miserable months of unemployment and inertia, I managed to land a low-paying temp job in an office environment in November 2003. All I wanted at that point was a place to hide away from the world, and a cubicle at this company would provide that. So I stayed with that temp job until it turned permanent, and that's where I've been for the last nine years. Although it was extremely boring and repetitive, it was also quiet and stable. Best of all, I could do the job with very little human interaction.
I have not exactly "thrived" in this job, but I have survived for nearly a decade. Meanwhile, though, my social life was nonexistent apart from my participation in a local community band. Even there, I tended to be shy, sullen, and withdrawn. Still to this day, any public performance fills me with fear. Don't get me wrong. The band has brought me a lot of happiness, and I have met some genuinely nice people there, but I don't know if I'll ever be 100% comfortable with it.
In the last few years, my workplace environment has been changing rapidly and frighteningly. The financial crisis has meant rounds and rounds of brutal layoffs, all of which I have (thus far) survived. A few months back, our company was bought out by a rival. Not only has this meant more layoffs, but existing jobs have been consolidated. One person will now be doing the work of two or three. This is how my most recent crisis occurred.
This Monday (October 22), my supervisor was taking a vacation, and I was attempting to fill in for her while simultaneously doing my own job. I genuinely felt I could handle this, but the day was plagued by technical errors and computer setbacks that I could not solve. I found myself talking in endless, circular arguments with coworkers, and eventually my brain just stopped processing information.
After 11 hours without a break and with many problems left unresolved, I simply left the office and took a commuter train home. I could not sleep that night and began having unspeakably dark thoughts. Remembering my horrifying experience from 2001, I decided to call the National Suicide Prevention hotline at around 2 in the morning on Tuesday, just a few hours before I was supposed to wake up for work. I spoke with an operator there for about an hour, and she advised me to go to my regular doctor and get a referral to a therapist or counselor.
I called in sick on Tuesday and was attempting to make my way to my doctor that morning. I don't have a "family doctor" per se, but there is an immediate care facility that I have used for colds, earaches, etc. I must not have been thinking very clearly at the time, because I literally did not get beyond the first block before having a minor fender bender. Even though neither car appeared damaged, the other driver was apoplectic and immediately called the police.
When the officer arrived, I desperately told him my story. He summoned the paramedics, and they took me to the nearest hospital, where an ER doctor made the decision to hospitalize me. This particular place was out-of-network for my insurance, so I was transferred by ambulance to a behavioral health center in another town. (Does it help my story at all if I tell you that the ambulance drivers were two extremely dim-witted guys who initially drove me to the wrong hospital and bickered back and forth about which streets they "should have tooken?" Sad but true.)
Don't worry. The stamp washes right off.
From Tuesday afternoon to Friday morning, I was a patient at the behavioral health center, which seemed to be part of a much larger hospital. If you're thinking it was like One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest or Shutter Island, you've got the wrong idea. It was more like being held captive at a combination of a summer camp and a Motel 6.
Yes, it was humiliating to have to surrender my belt, shoes, and wallet. And yes, the food was terrible. (It is the tilapia that will haunt me from this experience.) Most of the people were quite nice, though, and there were only one or two people with obvious mental illness. The majority of the patients were like me -- average-looking sad sacks who just seemed burned out and overwhelmed. We had group meetings several times a day, and I was an active and cheerful participant in nearly every one of them.
The comment I heard the most from my fellow patients was: "You seem so positive! Why are you here?" Honestly, I didn't know. I mean, I could retrace my steps and understand how I had gotten there, but somehow it didn't quite feel "real" to me. I used the opportunity of the program to work on my social skills and made a point to introduce myself to as many staff members and patients as possible. The patients, especially, were generally bright, funny, and friendly individuals. Perhaps some of us will stay in touch.
In any event, I "graduated" the program with flying colors. My doctor was very impressed by my progress and moved up my release from Monday (October 29) to today (October 26). Having no relatives or friends in the area, I took a $40 cab ride back to my apartment this morning. I am now supposed to be taking Xanax, Celexa, and drugs for sleeping and for lowering blood pressure. My blood pressure shot up about 30-40 points while I was in the program even though I was outwardly very calm, upbeat, and composed. Maybe it was my body's way of protesting.
I am home now, back in my little apartment, and I am quite comfortable. It's nice to be able to write on this blog again, since patients were not allowed to use computers while they were on "the unit." My hospitalization is behind me now, but this problem is not merely part of my past. I still have to conquer my depression and anxiety, and this time I really want to do it right so that I can finally start living my life to the fullest. (I know that's an odd thing for a fictional zombie to say, but there you go.)
Phew! This was a tough post to write, but I'm glad I got it out there. I'm trying not to be embarrassed about my condition, and I want to be able to talk about it openly and honestly. I'm sorry if this was a little heavier or more depressing than you wanted, but here's a song that might make up for it. I think this song is going to be my personal recovery anthem.
P.S. - Here's a Zomby from before my hospitalization. Enjoy it before the happy pills cure me of my creativity.
A screenshot of my Google Plus profile, which exists for some reason.
What can I say, readers? My sympathies always go to the underdog, and that includes the field of social media. Maybe that's because, as a living-impaired American, I am the ultimate underdog... a six feet underdog, if you will. So instead of going the typical route and getting a Facebook account, I've decided to take the infamous road less traveled and put all my networking eggs in a Google Plus-shaped basket. That's right! Even though G+ seems to be the Washington Generals to Facebook's Harlem Globetrotters, I've been a semi-reliable presence on the fledgling site.
Check me out! Original content and every damned thing. Please! I need people in my circle(s) to feel worthwhile! Is that desperate? Since when have I not been desperate? Here's a link to get you started!
Chances are, you did not attend the 2011 Holly-Palooza Concert in lovely Glenview, IL last Sunday. Well, never mind! Thanks to YouTube, you can watch a portion of the concert from the safety of your very own computer. Watch as I and my fellow members of the Glenview Concert Band perform our rendition of Leroy Anderson's classic, "Sleigh Ride" under the baton of maestro Ken Bartosz:
I'm in the back row, playing the euphonium. Can you see me?
I don't know why, but I like having stodgy-looking businessmen make shockingly inappropriate suggestions to Zomby. You know what else I like? Meaningless milestones! Which is why I'm proud to announce that this terrible, terrible blog has just passed 100,000 all-time pageviews since its start in October 2009. Huzzah! And now here is a picture of that number.
Pretty, right? Seriously, to that one guy who has visited my blog 100,000 times, thank you very much.
Today, dearest readers, it is my birthday. And my present to you and to myself is that I am not doing another torturous Zomby!!!! cartoon today. Instead, I have decided to present to you the absolute greatest cartoon of all time, 1954's Alley to Bali with Woody Woodpecker.
Have you ever thought back to some weird show, movie, or cartoon you saw as a kid and asked yourself, "Did I really see that or just imagine it?" That's exactly my history with Alley to Bali. It's a Woody Woodpecker cartoon, sure, but not like any other Woody Woodpecker cartoon I have ever seen. Normally, Woody is a sort of avian variation on Bugs Bunny, the rascally trickster getting on the nerves of some comedic foil. Here, though, he is basically is the foil. More specifically, he is one of two foils. His partner in punishment is the rather obscure Buzz Buzzard. If nothing else, this cartoon gives us a Woody and Buzz forty years before Toy Story.
I don't want to spoil any of the strange, surreal, and unsettling things that happen in this cartoon. I just want you to watch it.
Now that the infamous Scumbag Steve meme has mutated into such variants as Scumbag College and Scumbag Uncle Sam, I thought it was high time for a zombie take on the whole "scumbag" thing.
Behold.... SCUMBAG ZOMBIE!
Now, as much as I want to improve the image of the living impaired, it's important to point out that some in the LI community are not always as honest and ethical as they could be. It is those few "bad apples" I am satirizing with this meme. Enjoy.
Hope you enjoyed these. If not, you're racist against zombies. Congratulations!
Because of ongoing (and still not totally resolved) technical problems and a heavier-than-usual work schedule, I have not been keeping this blog updated as much as I would like. But I wanted to share some news with you, dear readers.
I am currently in the process of researching my second novel! And for a change, I'm going to actually try to make this one good!
Last November, I participated in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) and actually did manage to finish a 50,000-word novel, an attempted satire about the paper towel industry called Perforated. If you're feeling brave, the whole thing is available FREE right here! I actually chose the subject of the novel on November 1 and improvised the entire thing as I went along. The novel is really a garbage dump of unused comedic ideas that had been percolating in my head for months or years.
This year, I wanted to plan ahead a little. A lot, in fact. My plan is to make my second novel -- still untitled (though I have a few ideas) -- actually readable and entertaining. The subject matter is directly inspired by an episode of the Mail Order Zombie podcast. Not long ago, MOZ's Brother D and Need a Nickname Scott reviewed a low-budget independent zombie movie entitled Buddy Bebop Vs. The Living Dead, which takes characters clearly based on Buddy Holly and Elvis Presley and pits them against the relentless undead hordes. Unfortunately, the movie itself is not terribly good. Neither D nor Scott enjoyed it, and when D generously sent a copy my way, I found it pretty disappointing as well. But I was still quite intrigued with the concept of taking 1950s rockers and placing them in a horror-movie setting.
So that's exactly what I'm going to do. My upcoming book is going to be about a world-class monster-hunting squad consisting of Elvis Presley, Little Richard, Buddy Holly, Jerry Lee Lewis and Chuck Berry. Basically, think of it as Ghostbusters but set in 1957 and starring 1950s rockers instead of 1980s comedians. Besides the luminaries mentioned, I am going to try to work in cameos by Fats Domino, the Everly Brothers, President Eisenhower, and more.
This is going to take some planning and research. For the last couple of months, I've been reading up on all five of my main protagonists. After that, I'll be working on outlining my plot. I really hope this book turns out well. Either way, though, I'll find a way to share it with anyone who is interested.
The time has come to answer my critics, the so-called "deathers" who demand to see my death certificate. This ridiculous controversy has dogged the Living Impaired rights movement for too long. I invite you to examine the certificate for yourself. Feel free to CLICK on it for a closer view.
I thank you.
WAYNE KOTKE President, Spokesman, and Founder of Dead 2 Rights
Well, citizens, I managed to make it through the second and final Saturday of the AMC Theatres Best Picture Showcase, which means that I have now watched all ten of the flicks nominated for the top prize at tonight's Academy Awards. So I figured I would share with you my views on the five remaining nominated films.
Hard to Watch: Based on the Novel Stone Cold Bummer by Manipulate
THE FLICK: A desperately poor Missouri girl named Ree must locate her missing, meth-cooking father -- dead or alive -- in time for a scheduled court date in order to avoid losing the family's modest home. The other members of Ree's rural community want to conceal the father's fate and will go to great lengths, including brutal violence, to prevent Ree from learning the truth.
WAYNE'S TAKE: Every year among the nominees, there should be at least one "be-thankful-for-what-you've-got" film designed to play on viewers' guilt. While we're all snug and cozy in the movie theater, the poor-but-proud characters on screen are barely subsisting in a world that looks like a post-apocalyptic hellhole. Last year, the official guilt-trip movie was Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire (which inspired 30 Rock's parody Hard to Watch: Based on the Novel Stone Cold Bummer by Manipulate). This year's model is Winter's Bone. The young heroine, Ree, wouldn't want anyone feeling sorry for her, but somehow that just made me feel worse about what she's going through, not only finding her father but almost single-handedly raising her two younger siblings. (Did I mention that Ree's mother is in a catatonic state? Geez, God, give these folks a break!) Don't worry, though, that this is just a two-hour exercise in tasteful, feel-bad hicksploitation. The plot actually functions as a very intriguing mystery/conspiracy with plenty of shocking and violent incidents along the way. And then there are some truly heartbreaking dialogue scenes, as when Ree meets with an Army recruiter. I don't want to spoil too much about the film, but the scene with that recruiter is probably what will stick in my mind the longest about this movie. GRADE: B
Possibly the Rocky Horror of the new millennium.
THE FLICK: An uptight, high-strung ballerina named Nina enters into a world of madness, pain, and paranoia when she is cast as the lead in a new production of Swan Lake. Is a younger ballerina trying to replace her? Is she merely replacing an older ballerina? And, for the love of God, is Nina actually transforming into a swan the way her character does in the ballet?
WAYNE'S TAKE: Tchaikovsky by way of David Cronenberg (specifically The Fly) with a generous helping of All About Eve (or Showgirls) thrown in, Black Swan straddles a line between high art and high camp. This might well be the most riotous live-action comedy of 2010, a film so far past the point of ridiculousness that sometimes the only reasonable reaction to it is to laugh. Perhaps it will one day be recognized as the Rocky Horror of the new millennium, with fans dressing up as the characters and saying the dialogue in sync with the actors. In Nina, Natalie Portman has finally found a role which suits her stiff, pinched, overly formal delivery. I wonder if she'll ever find a part this perfect for her again. As much in bad taste as Winter's Bone was in good taste, Black Swan is a film for everyone who cherishes the stylistic overload of Stanley Kubrick at his maddest or 1970s/1980s Brian DePalma at his most gleefully gaga. GRADE: A-
A dream inside a dream inside a... you know what? I stopped caring.
THE FLICK: A highly-skilled thief named Cobb, trained in stealing ideas from people's minds, assembles a crew for one last big, risky heist. He and his teammates must actually plant an idea in the mind of a wealthy businessman's heir. Only by successfully completing this task can Cobb ever hope to see the faces of his two children again.
WAYNE'S TAKE: The clear fanboy favorite of 2010, Inception is a film which -- and I realize I may be banished from the Internet for saying this -- failed to impress me during its original theatrical run last summer. In short, I found it to be all gimmickry and no real heart or soul. It seems like it's going to be about exploring the landscape of the mind, but it too soon devolves into shouting, explosions, and shootouts and relies far too heavily on clunky expository dialogue. Plus the whole thing looks like some kind of catalog for sleek, high-end modern furniture. Revisiting the film a half-year later, I realized I had perhaps underestimated Leonardo DiCaprio's performance as Cobb, but I still found the second half of Inception to be a noisy, calamitous, headache-inducing drag. And what should be the central relationship, that of Cobb and his late wife, never felt real or true to me. Do these seem like people who have a shared history with each other? I'm still baffled as to why America embraced Inception so fondly. GRADE: C+
Newsflash! Mark Zuckerberg? Kind of a dick.
THE FLICK: The semi-true, semi-fictional story of the rise of Facebook and its frighteningly ambitious founder, Mark Zuckerberg, a Harvard computer whiz who originally creates the infamous social networking site as a way for horny Ivy League students to keep tabs on each other. As Facebook soars in popularity, Zuckerberg makes new friends, betrays old ones, and winds up as the target of several pricey lawsuits.
WAYNE'S TAKE: Every year among the nominees, there is a film which veers so closely to my sense of humor or my sphere of interest that I like to pretend it was made especially for me. Two years ago, it was Frost/Nixon and last year it was A Serious Man. This year, that movie is David Fincher's The Social Network, a whip-smart update on the director's Fight Club. What can I say? This film had a dizzying effect on me, and I mean that as a compliment. I have no idea if the actual birth of Facebook was anywhere near this amusing. Personally, I don't care if it was. For sheer fun, The Social Network is rivaled only by Toy Story 3 among the nominees. GRADE: A
A n-n-n-nice l-l-little hist-st-st-storical dr-dr-dr-drama.
THE FLICK: Another semi-true, semi-fictional story, this film portrays the relationship between King George VI and his long-time speech therapist, Lionel Logue. When his father's death and brother's abdication force him to take the throne at a time when World War II looms, the reluctant King must finally conquer his stammering problem in order to properly execute his duties.
WAYNE'S TAKE: If The Social Network is very much a film about the world we occupy now (and may one day be a time-capsule candidate), The King's Speech is decidedly timeless. It could have been made ten years ago or could be made ten years from now with virtually no changes to the script or filmmaking style. This is a drama which takes historical events and makes them life-sized and relatable by focusing on the very human story occurring behind the scenes. And, oh, such a cast they've assembled for this task. If you're the type who collects "Great British Thespians" trading cards (I'll trade you two Colin Firths for a Derek Jacobi rookie card!), you will very much enjoy this picture. Were it not for The Social Network, this would have been my favorite of the day. GRADE: A-
And that does it for Wayne's Oscar preview. I'm looking forward to the ceremony tonight. My pick for Best Picture is The Social Network. I don't know whether it will win, but I guess we'll see.
This year, like last year, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has nominated ten movies for Best Picture. Yesterday, thanks to the AMC Theatres Best Picture Showcase, I sat through five of those films consecutively. I would now like to share with you my thoughts about each of them:
TOY STORY 3
THE FLICK: Woody, Buzz, and the surviving members of the Toy Story gang have to adjust to new lives now that their owner, Andy, has grown up and is going off to college. A possible future awaits them at the Sunnyside Day Care Center, which is ruled by the corrupt Lots-O'-Huggin' Bear.
WAYNE'S TAKE: A very funny, touching, and beautifully made film. There's so much detail crammed into this film, it's impossible to take it all in. The voice cast is uniformly excellent. The animation is impeccable. The script is extremely clever, packed with jokes but also telling a real story and dealing with some very human emotions. This was a great, colorful start to the day. GRADE: A
127 HOURS
THE FLICK: The true story of a young man, Aron Ralston, who goes hiking in the desert and finds his arm hopelessly pinned down by a rock in an extremely remote location. With food and water running low and no rescue in sight, Aron must make tough decisions to survive.
WAYNE'S TAKE: If you're worried that 127 Hours is just two hours of a guy stuck under a rock, let me reassure you that there are plenty of flashbacks, dream sequences, and fantasies to break up the visual monotony. That being said, James Franco (as Ralston) carries the film almost single-handedly and does so with a terrific, nuanced performance. Still in all, a film I'll probably never revisit. GRADE: B
THE FLICK: The comfortable lives of two lesbian moms are disrupted when their teenage children track down the sperm donor who is their biological father. The family's very stability is threatened when several members bond too closely and too quickly with this likable, laid-back newcomer.
WAYNE'S TAKE: If I had to come up with a word to describe this comedy-drama, it would be "slight." Don't get me wrong. It's very skillfully and believably acted, and there are some nicely-observed moments in the dialogue. But it all felt a little too cutesy and forgettable to me. When it was over, I just sort of shrugged it off. Julianne Moore, although not nominated, deserves special praise as the standout among a very good ensemble cast. GRADE: B-
THE FLICK: The Coen Brothers present the second filmed version of Charles Portis' classic Western novel. A 14-year-old girl, Mattie Ross, hires a hard-drinking, over-the-hill U.S. Marshall, Rooster Cogburn, to help her track down her father's killer.
WAYNE'S TAKE: Probably my favorite film of the day. This is what might be called classical filmmaking, old-school craftsmanship at its finest. The film is anchored by three very able leads (Jeff Bridges and Matt Damon as well as newcomer Hailee Steinfeld), and is marked by superb cinematography, costume design, score, and art direction. GRADE: A
THE FLICK: Another true story, this one is set in the world of boxing. A promising fighter's career is threatened by the dangerous antics of his unreliable, crack-addicted brother, a former boxer himself who now serves as his younger brother's manager.
WAYNE'S TAKE: Do you like boxing movies? Do you like inspirational, climb-from-despair-to-victory stories? If so, you probably have already seen and loved The Fighter. This was the last film on the schedule, and that's a tough slot because by then the audience is pretty much worn out. But even in my weakened condition, I could recognize its quality. Christian Bale has the showy role as a crackhead and runs wild with it, but Mark Wahlberg and Amy Adams do commendable work as well. Great sense of time and place, too. GRADE: B+ but probably an A- if it had played earlier in the day
I like to tell people I was in a Jeff Bridges movie. This is kinda, sorta, technically true-ish in the sense that Jeff Bridges is in this movie and I am also in this movie... but not in the same scene.
Either way, here's the trailer. See if you can spot your humble Wayne-meister in it. Those of you who listen to MOZ know what my voice sounds like. Keep in mind that I was heavily disguised that evening and do not much resemble my usual, dapper, living impaired self. But the voice, for better or worse, is the same.
Even after two years plus of appearing on the Mail Order Zombie podcast, I realize that the Living Impaired still have plenty of image problems. I sat down to think about how to solve this problem, when suddenly the answer came to me...
A lovable, cuddly living impaired cartoon character!
And so, ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to introduce ZOMBY! He may remind you of another Z-named comic character, but this one happens to be living impaired. Through the misadventures of little Zomby, you'll see the various heartaches, frustrations, and disappointments my people deal with on a day to day basis.
Here are a few samples:
So what did you think? Lovable, right? Adorable, right? I'm picturing a whole line of "Zomby" merchandise -- greeting cards, calendars, plush toys. Besides raising awareness of the plight of the living impaired, this little guy could be a cash cow.
You may have noticed that this blog has not been updated since just before Halloween. What's my alibi? Well, it's that I have been doing NaNoWriMo, the National Novel Writing Month project. Essentially, in the month of November, you write a 50,000-word novel. I am trying to put every last scrap of creativity into the book I'm currently writing. So far, I am up to 30,000 words so the end is in sight.
My goal is to be the first Living Impaired American to complete NaNoWriMo!
Besides, I did so many posts in the month of October, I figure I was due for a break. If you have been listening to Mail Order Zombie, you know that I have still been doing my regular weekly segment, "A Few Minutes With Wayne Kotke," but I have not been doing the elaborate, prerecorded MP3 bits this month. I've just been calling in and leaving messages on the voicemail line. In a way, this is a return to my roots, because that's how I used to give feedback when I started contacting the show in September, 2008. If you heard my "Bottoms Up" song a few shows back, that was recorded the Saturday before Halloween. I wanted to make that one extra good, because I knew I couldn't do anything like it for the entire next month.
If you're wondering why I'm even writing these words rather than working on my novel, it's because I've already filled my 2000-word-a-day quota, and I felt guilty about not updating the blog in so long.
Once NaNoWriMo is completed, I will go back to doing my regular segments for MOZ and hopefully updating this blog a little more regularly.
Pumpkinhead graciously agreed to be interviewed for this article.
Although Pumpkinhead may not technically be an according-to-Hoyle "zombie," so to speak, he certainly understands the problems of the living impaired since this demon of vengeance spends his time between gigs buried in a cemetery plot waiting to be called into action yet again. After portraying the title character in Stan Winston's classic 1988 film, PH went on to appear in a 1994 straight-to-video sequel and two more made-for-TV films in 2006 and 2007, not to mention being immortalized in comic books, model kits, and action figures. I recently sat down to chat with this legend of horror cinema about his notorious past, his plans for the future, and other topics. I do hope you will enjoy this little interview.
WK: Wow, Pumpkinhead himself! So good to finally meet you.
PH: Grrarrrggggh.... raaarrrgghhhh...
I must say, you are looking very trim. Do you have any diet or exercise tips you'd like to share with my readers?
I see, I see. Now let's talk a little about your movie career. How did you get started in the business?
Well, it's interesting.... Grrrrrarrrgghhhh... Arrrnnnnggghhh... My agent at the time.... Urrrrarrrrrggghh... Mike Ovitz.... Guuurrrrrrarrrrrr...
Fascinating! So tell me, what's on the horizon? What does the future hold for Pumpkinhead?
Aaaauuuurrrrr... hhhhrrooowwwwrrr.... (devours a small child)... Grrraarrrgghhh... Reality show... Urrrraaaaarrgghhhh....
Well, Pumpkinhead, I really haven't understood a single thing you've said, and to be honest you're scaring the crap out of me, so I'm going to run for my life if you don't mind.
Grrrraarrrr....
So there you have it. Once again, I'd like to thank Pumpkinhead for taking the time to chat with me, and I wish him much success in the future.
During the latest late-night talk show shuffle, you've probably been wondering: "What is Wayne Kotke's official position on this whole fiasco?" If you follow me on Twitter (and if you don't, shame on you), you may have seen some of the avatars featured above in which I remake my own image into that of carrot-topped Conan O'Brien, gap-toothed David Letterman, and lantern-jawed Jay Leno. Depending on my work and school schedules, I have been a pretty steady viewer of late-night TV talk shows since at least the mid-to-late-1980s. I was able, for instance, to witness the last few years of Johnny Carson's reign on NBC's The Tonight Show, and I can remember when Late Night With David Letterman only ran from Monday through Thursday, making each (rare) opportunity to see the show a special treat. Letterman was muscled aside on Friday nights in those days in favor of NBC's long-gone music show Friday Night Videos, a situation which Letterman routinely parodied.
Ah, but that was many years ago! In the decades since, Leno usurped the Tonight Show throne from Carson's heir apparent Letterman -- prompting much outrage and consternation -- and is now set to reclaim that same post from Conan O'Brien -- prompting additional outrage and consternation. During those middle years, let us not forget, Leno became TV's top-rated yakker by sanding away the rough edges of his comedic persona and aiming straight for the middle (middlebrow, middle class, Middle America) with predictably middling results. Meanwhile, Letterman soldiered on with his crankier, snarkier persona to great success on a rival CBS show, and O'Brien carved out his own niche with his brand of cheerful absurdism -- beloved by many (including me) but apparently not what the Tonight Show audience was looking for. Clearly, what America needs is a talk show host who can deliver the strengths of all three of these men. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the future of late night television:
