You Don't Watch Foreign Films!?

You don't know what you're missing. No, they aren't all weird and boring. They can be real interesting and look at things in a much different way than American filmmakers. And okay some of them can get kind of weird (like what's up with the vague Japanese endings?), but there are so many good ones. And no, it's not hard to read the text. You won't even realize it after the first five minutes. So don't worry about the bad ones, that's why I'm here. To watch the bad ones for you and pass on the keepers.

I'll throw a few essential Spanish language flicks into your foreign film starter kit. They aren't just good they are great. I'm starting you off with the absolute cream of the Latin crop. The next time you're at Blockbuster and are seriously contemplating Daddy Day Care or another Pirates movie. Just throw them both away and look for these:

Hable Con Ella/Talk To Her (Spain)


Plot: Two men share an odd friendship while they care for their girlfriends who are both in deep comas. It's a crazy story of love and friendship. You'll love the characters in it. Especially one of the ladies, she's so damned cute (even in a coma). Of the three, If I wanted to chill out, and learn something about life, this would be my pick. This might be the best foreign movie I've ever seen. If you don't watch it, it will be the greatest movie you've never given yourself the chance to experience. DON'T LEAVE THIS EARTH WITHOUT WATCHING THIS MOVIE.

Reviewers:
'Talk to Her is so darned assured, we have absolutely no idea who the main characters are until the film is well under way -- and yet it's hard to stop watching.'

'Occasionally funny, always very colorful and enjoyably overblown in the traditional Almodóvar style.'

"Another knockout from Almodovar."

"Amoldóvar is a master of emotional texture, peeling away layer upon layer of the feelings...until he reaches Benigno's troubled psyche and Marco's benevolent soul."

Trailer:



Y Tu Mama Tambien (Mexico).

Plot: Two teenage boys go on a cross-country trip with a milf. Hilarity and potential sexploitation ensue. And no, you can't watch it with your parents around.

Reviewers:
'Anyone with a passion for cinema, and indeed sex, should see it as soon as possible.'

'A smart, steamy mix of road movie, coming-of-age story and political satire.'

'Erotic, controversial, and unforgettable.'

City of God (Brazil, Portugese).


Plot: This movie takes you into the craziness of life on the streets in a Brazilian ghetto. You've never seen kids this hardcore. Never.

Reviewers:
"That rare film that manages to be seductively entertaining without ever compromising its authenticity and power."

'A tremendous, skilfully composed film that impresses with its artistry and quirkiness while smacking you in the solar plexus with its message.'

'A real adrenaline rush -- at times it manages to be powerful, thrilling and funny and sometimes all three of them at the same time.'



post script: I was going to show you the other trailers, but they show way too much of the movie. You're better off just enjoying the movies without them.

You Betta Get It Girl

Get your pecker off my daughter(!) screams the angry parent. What are they so mad about? The way kids are dancing nowadays. Freak dancing, grinding; most kids just call it dancing.

Some say it's MTV. Some say it's lazy parenting. Whatever the cause, kids are dancing closer and closer to each other every year lately. School boards, PTA's, and community forums are meeting up about it. Parents are outraged. Politicians are being asked to step in. They say it's inappropriate, indecent and shouldn't be allowed. Are they right? Well, let's see.

Why Let Them Freak?

I'm getting a bit older and a bit more conservative but I gotta go with the kids on this one. Granted I would never allow my daughter or son to do it in front of me, but as a general society issue, it does more good than harm. Here's why.

The kids get to express something important in a controlled environment. Let's be honest, 14-17 year old guys aren't getting laid. They're pumped with hormones, zits, and awkward behavior, and have no willing ladies to...well pump out their hormones with. And young girls have their own mix of awkwardness, acne, and hormones with the added fear of not wanting to be thought of as sluts. Solution? The dance floor. Girls can get freaky with no judgment, and guys can get closer to chicks than they've ever been with no need for the suave to "game" anyone. So at that equilibrium we have a meeting of the minds and the genitals. Problem solved.

They aren't all going off to have sex afterwards. After the song is over, it's over. I remember at project graduation dancing hardcore with a girl for like a half-hour thinking we must of made some kind of connection. Ha! She looked at me like I was crazy when I tried to parlay our dance into something more. It is a controlled environment, with social rules and limitations put in place by the participants themselves. If the girls aren't looking to grind, they'll just surround themselves with their girls. The guys might whine a bit, saying, "If you ain't come to dance, take ya ass home." But don't worry about that, their little peepees are just sad. They know the deal.

It all looks much worse than it really is.

What The Parents Are Right About

The only thing I'll give the parents is that it is a bit inappropriate. That kind of intimate grinding really should be happening in private. There's times when two people are practically initiating coitus in front of God and the rest of the world. They're out there pumping as hard as they can. They guy's feeling her up and breathing hard down her neck. Her head's tilted back with her mouth open and her eyes shut. Okay, we might have to break that up at prom. But you normally see that from tacky adults. You probably won't be seeing that at the next Wellington homecoming dance (at least I hope not). But for the most part, we'd rather them do it out in the open instead of alone behind closed doors.

What If We Don't?

We tell the kids not to bang each other. They say okay we'll wait. But we gotta give them something. They have to let it out somehow. Complete repression will just turn them into perverted fools a few years down the line.

That's when we'll get more of the "humiliation" fetishes. Just a bunch of guys and girls that want to be tied up, beaten, spanked, choked, and pissed on for sexual pleasure. Because they will finally be able to dominate the other sex that was off limits to them all their life. Being kept from all sexual contact will eventually express itself in the saddest form.

We have to tough it out to if we want to have sexually healthy kids. Let them get freaky on the dance floor, as much as it pains us to watch some random, sweaty, Jay-Z wanna-be rub his junk on our daughters.

I Need A Smart Person

I want to know what you all think about the case of the girl who killed herself after being stalked by a prankster.

If you haven't heard the story here's the gist of it. Megan began chatting on myspace with a boy named Josh Evans. After a few weeks of flirting, Josh "suddenly turned mean," says her mother. He called Megan names and they began trading insults.

His last message said, "The world would be a better place without you.”

Sobbing, Megan ran into her bedroom closet. Her mother found her there, hanging from a belt. She was 13.

Six weeks after Megan’s death, her parents learned that Josh Evans never existed. He was an online character created by Lori Drew, then 47, who lived four houses down the street.

The prosecutors and police say they can't charge the lady with anything. A spokesman said that what Ms. Drew did “might’ve been rude, it might’ve been immature, but it wasn’t illegal.”

I think I have a defense for the parents of the girl, but I want to know what you think?

story

And The Winner Is...

I'm filling out an application for a job at the courthouse. It asked if I have any experience operating heavy equipment? I was about to write, "No, but my girlfriend has." :O

Thank God! No Wait...

"I began to think about the Hurricane Katrina victims... and uh you who are here who were not involved. I gotta song for you..."

Kim Burrell made this proclamation then sang "Thank You Lord." The lyrics go like this:

Tragedies are commonplace.
All kinds of diseases, people are slippin away.
Economy's down, people can't get enough pay.
But as for me, all I can say is
Thank you Lord for all you've done for me.

What has he done for you? Not involved you in the disaster? I guess she didn't find it odd to be thanking God that he didn't destroy her and her family in the hurricane. He didn't allow a natural disaster to obliterate every thing she owned. Thank him that he didn't collapse the infrastructure of her entire city, setting the area back hundreds of years. And he was gracious enough to not cause billions of dollars worth of damage that will take generations to fix. But he went ahead and did it to another family. He went ahead and destroyed ANOTHER town. Oh Hallelujah, thank the Lord!


Why can't God just be left alone. I bet he's in heaven saying who told you that I'm responsible for natural disasters?


We're sitting here saying that it's for a greater good that our simple minds couldn't understand. Our inferior human intellects couldn't understand why a loving God would sacrifice innocent children for teaching purposes. We are too ape-like to see that God can't "love" those children because his actions void out the exact definition of love.

What if you had to die for someone else to learn a lesson about the importance of the simple things in life. Would you sign up? Would it seem so reasonable then? Would you mind sacrificing your entire family so a couple in California can be more thankful for their dinner? Only someone who had no love would nominate themselves for that.


Only a crazy dictator would kill people than tell the rest of the country it was for their own good. That even though we don't understand the reason, we should just shut up and accept it.

And yet we stand up and say lets send our prayers out to New Orleans or to Bangladesh or Africa. Please, no let's not. I think God has done enough work over there. We don't need any more lesson giving God. And if God has a divine purpose over there why would we pray for him to stop it?


Why don't we all pray, "Hey God we get it! We don't want to see any more people die needlessly. We understand that life is precious and that material things don't really matter. Cut it out already!"

Maybe God is a better creator than teacher. Or perhaps God doesn't send natural disasters, and we are anthropomorphizing a natural, unfortunate event.


Why can't we just look at the facts and realize that disasters are random events caused by natural movements of the earth.

We don't accept nature because we're scared. To know that a calamity could hit us at any moment is just too much of a burden for us. We'd rather think a 24 hour ADT surveillance God is watching over our house. We'll believe this even in the face of contrary evidence.

We'll believe it until our house gets washed away in a flash-flood and we have nothing else. Then we'll surely realize that he went back on his promise and is a liar. Oh wait that won't happen... we'll still keep believing! We'll go on to say God had a divine purpose for destroying our lives. That somehow in his endless love for us, he thought it better that our child would die in our arms. And if you don't understand how he is a great God for doing that than well... well it's your loss buddy.

No I don't thank God that I wasn't in a disaster. If he is able to keep me from disaster than he would have been able to keep the others from it too. Now if I thought that disasters were random events I would be glad the event didn't happen to me and feel bad for those afflicted. Hmm... maybe our simple minds are starting to figure out the truth???

Pray for me :-o
Pierre

When Atlas Couldn't Bear The World Anymore...

He shrugged.

Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged has been my latest conquest. I never thought I could get through it (1000 pages). But about half-way through I was glad it wasn't going to end yet. People who are disillusioned about life could save a lot of therapy money and just read this book. No other piece of media has made me feel like I have so much potential.

I swear by my life--and my love of it, that I will not live for the sake of another man nor ask another man to live for mine.

After getting this message pounded in your head for a 1,000 pages you start to get the picture.


The story is pretty simple. A group of industrialists battle with bureaucracy to keep producing their products. Especially a woman that tries to run a railroad company. And a guy that runs a foundry that makes a new metal alloy. If I tell you anymore it'll take too much away from the story. There's a mysteriousness that starts with the first sentence that would be diluted if you heard more details or read any book reviews.


And don't worry you won't be the only one reading it. Millions of copies have been sold since being published in 1957. In a Library of Congress poll, readers were asked what book most influenced their lives. First was the Bible, second was Atlas Shrugged. It has been named one of the ten-best novels of all time by nearly every reader poll.

Of all the books I've read, this is easily my strongest recommendation. A+

The Day I Stomped My Own Flesh And Blood

Did I ever tell you about the time when me and 15 other guys beat my brother up in the middle of Clematis? And found out that cops aren't as understanding as we first think?

When I was about 18 me and a bunch of guys that I knew were hanging out on a Thursday night. We were bored and broke. Which is the worst possible combination for guys, btw. We always come up with bad ideas. I wish the Medical Census Bureau could do a study on how much property damage and bodily injury is caused by guys with no money and nothing to do.

So we started talking about going to Clematis. But no one wanted to just walk around and watch everyone else spend money and have a good time. Somehow we got to talking about fights, and how crazy it would be if someone got jumped. How would the crowd react? Would other guys jump in and try to save the person? So I said why don't we stage a fight? Everyone's eyes lit up. Especially my brother Joel. He was all for it. So he got picked as the innocent victim. Actually, I think he nominated himself.

We plotted the thing out like we were filming a scene for the next summer blockbuster. We started drawing shapes in the sand like the guys from Heat. We would start the chase on the north end of Clematis. The victim will go down in the busiest part of the street. We would beat him down and escape through the east and west ends.

We get to our station and my brother circles around the block to get to his. By this point we are so pumped. The adrenaline is flowing and the fifteen of us were walking like we really wanted to kill someone. People already started looking at us weird.

I didn't see Joel yet. I thought he might've picked the wrong street. But then my cousin Serge screams out, "There he is! Get him!!" My brother screams. We scream. And the entire street stops. We're running and screaming as fast and as loud as we can. The commotion worked perfectly; everyone turned around to see what was going on. Random guys started running behind us to catch up to the action.

We ran and ran but couldn't catch him. He was too fast! Finally, my cousin grabbed him and threw him to the floor. We surrounded him and starting doing the kicking motion. Maybe our adrenaline was going to high at that point because we really started roughing him up. He was squirming in the middle like a raccoon caught in a trap.

Someone yelled out, "The COPS!" There were three of them. I think we can out run them, but damn we didn't think one of them would be on a bike! We started running for our lives. But no one remembered the right exit plan. So we were bumping into each other and scattering like a bunch of idiots.

The cops grabbed as many of us as they could. And oddly enough, the first person they handcuffed was my brother. And as if he wasn't beat up enough, they pinned him to the wall then pushed him down to sit on the curb.

The rest of us were scotch free. We would just go to the car and meet up with them later. But we couldn't abandon the fallen soldiers. After debating, we went back and told the cops that we were just playing. The cops looked at us like we were crazy. I guess we didn't really think out the negotiation plan. We pleaded with them, but they weren't hearing it. I saw our boys in cuffs and kept on talking. I thought one of our guys was gonna cry. The look he gave me said please don't let them take me to jail, please!

The cops finally let them go. We were happy with the results, but it was just a little too crazy for us. I don't think Joel felt the same way though, I think he wanted to go try it out at Cityplace.

Entering The Fourth Quarter

The new year will be upon us soon. When you look back on your year what will you say? Will you be happy with your actions? Disappointed at your failures? Or will you be disappointed at your failure to act?

You will be one year older and hopefully one year wiser. Another year of fighting the good fight to make your dreams come true. What have you learned so far? What do you have left to learn? A wise man once said, "Life is willing to teach if your willing to listen." You've been given chances to learn new lessons every day of your existence. Did you catch them?

Words from an old soul:

"I used to look at my advancing age as an impending doom. As each day passed, the light of my life became dimmer. I would lie in my bed at night and welcome a terrible thought: what if this was my last day?"

"I had to wake from that nightmare. Life wasn't ending, it was waiting to begin. Each day offered another chance to live. I accepted the offer. God gave me all the tools I needed. I couldn't ignore them any longer. I stopped feeling sorry for myself and made this life the best one I knew how."

What tools have you been given? Will you show the world what you're made of? Or will you be another forgetful tombstone. How far down does your strength go? Is there anything valuable growing way down deep on the inside of your being?

Are you still looking for handouts? Are you waiting for someone to give you a chance or are you making paths where none were?

All we're going to remember of you is what you've created. And each year you have a chance to add more to your legacy. What did you do this year that you're proud of? What did you create? You still have time. You think you got what it takes? Fine. Prove it. No, not to me... to your self.

College Football And The Power Of Suggestion

This season has been unprecedented. This many top schools have never went down so hard. The unbeatable Trojans got whipped. LSU went down. Oklahoma and Texas didn't escape. Florida got turned to gator meat (twice haha). And it's all for one reason and one reason only: the power of suggestion. The Appalachian State miracle changed the season and maybe college football for the next decade.

Psychologists have long since proved that suggesting different things to people affected the subjects' perceptions, memories, and even beliefs. In fact, most of what we do is from suggestion. Try this: the next time you're out watch how much people copy each other. Reach for your drink and your mate will reach for theirs too. Yawn and you'll trigger a yawn in your friends. Beat a top ten school and all your buddies will go and beat some too.

The power of suggestion is really the power of example. There is tremendous strength in seeing something done before your eyes. The challenge transitions from theory to practice. After it's done there is no more discussion about it's possibilities. And everyone will start to say, "If he can do it, I can do it."

Appalachian State opened the door to a belief in the minds of every small school in America. The headline was, "They did the impossible!" well think about that line. If it was, it's not impossible anymore. That's suggestion! That's the example. And now we're seeing the fallout.

Teams won't lie down and get run over anymore by big schools. They will fight with not only everything they got, but now everything they believe they can have.

So then top schools have to bring their "A" game every Saturday; which is proving to be too difficult. Why? They're not pros. College kids have exams, girlfriends, and futures they're thinking of. You will not get 100% every Saturday. This flaw has just never been revealed before because there was no hope.

Hope. Faith. Miracles. Evil words to atheists, scientists, and top college programs.

How A Four-Letter Word Changed Women Forever

Why do women seem to worry more about dating than men? Where does the sexual anxiety of young girls come from? And why are women never "ready" to get some one-on-one cozy time going??

The world changed the first time a woman was called a slut. Etymologists think it was first uttered in 1375. It might've come from the German schlutt, the Swedish slata, or the Dutch slodder. It could mean, a slovenly woman, a prostitute, sloppy, dirty, untidy, immoral, adulterer.

Assholes. You all had to go and mess it up for every man and woman for the rest of humanity.

Ever since the 15th century, every girl that has reached puberty has had one goal, to not be called a slut. There is no worse label that could be slapped on a girl in grade-school. They would rather be called cannibals.

Because once you get the scarlet "S" you might as well kiss your social life goodbye. You will be relegated to be friends with other immoral girls.

So the plan is to not engage in any sexual activity. No touching, kissing, or even looking at the football players from the sidelines during practice.

Problem? It's not normal to repress sexual development. No girl could do that, and none should. Another issue, the guys whose attention the chicks want are going to want to wrestle a little closer at some point.

So what's a girl to do? Do it behind closed doors. Everything's hush-hush. There's no open discussion about sexual wants or needs among any females under the age of 18. Any hint that it is something that you are looking forward to will send off a red alert to the slut police. and their itching to bring another harlot to moral justice.

Now every time we guys get close to girls we have to play by the rules. Of course we want to tango and they do too, but neither of us would dare tell each other the truth. That would just be absolutely crazy.

"Here's the deal pal, I'll pretend not to want to do anything, and you pretend you just want to hang out. We'll start off by just talking and things will get flirty. At some point we'll both know what's going to happen next. But don't let your little man get too happy! Don't say anything dumb like 'uhh, so... do you wanna f*@k' Of course I want to you idiot! But anything we say can and will be used against me in the court of looseness. Just tell me you have some new cd to show me in your room or something. Then we'll accidentally, key word there big boy, accidentally, end up on your bed. Then whatever happens next is your fault. You get it? It can't be my fault. Sluts ask for sex, ladies accept it."

"And don't go back to your little friends talking mess like, 'Yea son.. yea sunnn! I took care a dat dere.' I swear if you do, I'll make sure you never have any kids little boy. You wanna brag? Keep what we do to yourself. Keep playin it cool with your mouth shut and your fly open and every girl in the school will be glad to give you some. Then when we have a reunion ten years later and you see the that the big jock married the head cheerleader, you can tell your little friends, 'They didn't the call her the Head cheerleader for nothin."

Us guys don't understand what the big deal is, but if that's the way we have to play then we'll oblige our better halves. Of course, once girls reach about 30 they realize that the whole thing was a big load of cow dung. And that the girls in the honor society and the Christ rules committee were the worst ones. They see that the whole time they were trying to make people happy they could've been enjoying life.

There is no such thing as a slut. There are just some women who are more liberated than others. If premarital sex goes against your morals, then close up shop and look for your husband. And if your morals revolve around making this life the best one possible because no one is sure what's going to happen after, than seek out every pleasure available to your senses. Eat the best foods, listen to the sweetest music, and have the best sex this side of glory.

But make your decision and stick with it. Don't be the girls that just try to eek their way through life. Not ever choosing to keep themselves pure for their husbands, or purify their husbands with themselves. Don't be the one that doesn't live for her God or her self, but just lives for people. Those women are the bottom dwellers. The woman that is immoral is the one that lies to herself. Don't prostitute your values. The adulterer is the woman that cheats on her true self.

bye for now,
seek life,
seek liberty,
and the pursuit of you,
pierre

(picture author: jeannie86 at Flickr)