Entries by Benson Mandela

...and, we're back! Fuck yeah we're back, and in fact, we never f'n left. Still the same old G, living it up in corporate America. What I want to briefly touch upon today is music, and its sorry state. First, and I just want to get this off my chest, let me list a few bands. The Killers, The Shins, The Mountain Goats, The Fray, Metro Station, Deathcrabs for Cutie, Bright Eyes, Arcade Fire, and The Decemberists. You probably know of a few of them, hell, you may even know them all. What's more, you might like these bands, and you may be an avid concert goer. Musical taste is entirely subjective, so I'll merely hate the game, not the player. Although these bands are very different from each other they all have one thing in common, and that one thing is cleverly and purposefully obscured.

What each band listed, as well their illegitimate brethren in their respective genres, represents is a part of a eulogy. These horrid excuses for modern music are arrogantly performing a facetious dirge that coincides with the death of an important decade. American Idol aside (since that is purely money grabbing and image making, without notions of musical credibility, and doesn't exactly fall within the sights of this post), the 2000s have been chock full of bullshit. What passes for listenable on the radio is literally putrid, and actually unlistenable. Why am I so pissed about this? My observation is both idyllic and sad. The 1990s were a time of musical solidification, a mixing of genres, and mainstream appeal of what was feared in the 80s. Rap and Hip Hop music, while selling millions of records in the 80s, still didn't have a strong foothold in American culture. With the dawning of the century's final decade, we saw not only unconditional acceptance of the urban music scene, but also intermingling with what were once thought to be incompatible styles. Pop music stayed constant, churning out catchy yet ultimately vacuous tunes; Michael Jackson raped a few kids. Heavy metal changed from stadium rock to introspection and darker avenues. Grunge erupted for a hot minute, but was not long for this world. All these new styles were coming into their own, each singing farewell to the 80s music scene, each celebrating their evolutions.

To sum it up, the 90s were great, a perfect bookend to a wildly varying century of music. This is not a knock on 80s music, there was plenty of good stuff being produced, but there's only so much New Wave Dance Synth Pop Crap one can take before enough is enough. So after 10 years of kickass music, what happened? Well, the 2000s came and instantly dropped a deuce on the chest of 1999. Fucking instantly. Suddenly pretentious horseshit is the coolest thing, and you must be an idiot if you don't get it. Indie music is a sham, and the worst part isn't actually that people love it. The worst part is that it's in your face, and that it's actually designed to make those who "don't get it" feel strangely inadequate. I get it. I get everything it's about. The problem is, I know it sucks, I know the depths of stupidity that these "artists" reach, all the while trying to make their music oh so literate. Zach Braff has put us in a tough spot. While I won't make a personal judgment, because I don't know the guy, he embodies everything that makes me angry about American music today.

So, to sum it up, we've got The Killers on one end (80s synth dance shit), and The Killers on the other end (the killers themselves, in all their pretentious yet worthless glory), with Indie experiencing a secret birth sometime in the early 90s. We're getting fucked from both ends, with pseudo-intellectuals telling it's alright, it's just a d in the a and one in the mouth.

F the swing plane, mine is off kilter yet again. Taking it back too far inside on the takeaway and then getting too upright. What a pain in the ass this is, but at least I have to camera to keep me in check. Back to da mines...

Ok, so a horrid mood has overtaken me, and I am driven to deliver vitriol through this hatred surrogate. I don't know what does it, but sometimes I just get into work and there is nothing good to think about. Oh well, at least last week was calm. I think it is due in large part to the fact that on my side of the office it is 80 f'ing degrees and rising. You see, this whole building is a pos so the Indian ujs and Aznz get all the cool air, which they do not want, while I get an 8 hour sauna session. F.

Last night I was brutally tired from the weekend, but I did see a good movie before passing out. It goes by the name Akira, and it is some Japanese anime nonsense, but it's actually really good. It was some science fiction post apocalyptic stuff that is very intriguing and was probably some of the best film products of the 80s. The motorcycles were cool and the animation was fantastic. I don't think there was one bad thing I could come up with about this movie. Evil Dead 2 in HD is on the menu for tonight I do believe.

Today was one of those rare days that I fell into a black hole of concentration. You see, normally I despise every waking second that I remain strapped to this electrified cubicle cell, which in turn forces my mind to devolve into a monkey state. One can normally find me grimacing at my foul master (my dear computer), swearing to myself and others, or banging my fists on the keyboard in a crude attempt to make sense of this hellish environment. Not today though, this was a special day, a day of tasks.

Lately I've been working on a website that might actually have potential for making money. The premise was born of the mind of my buddy's girlfriend and I'm trying to bring it to fruition. The first hurdle was to figure out how the fuck to make a website that didn't look like a crippled pos. By the grace of god knowledge poured down from the heavens and I was pointed in the right direction by those who've reached enlightenment. I've carefully crafted a site that actually looks good, and to top that shit off, it actually does what it's supposed to, sort of. The ideas behind the site are very simple, but in reality making them happen was a totally different story. To make a website look seamless and elegant is so f'ing difficult that it takes days of pondering to hammer out the details and figure s out. Then when it comes time to implement your ideas you'll realize that not a god damn thing works and you don't know what you're doing or where to go. Mr. Internet will point you to various incorrect destinations until you can drum up enough brain power to overcome stupidity.

After that, there comes a point where some things start working, this is a promising and uplifting time that makes it seem like you've got this thing licked. Much later, you will have gotten many things working, and will have amazed yourself in the process, but a dark cloud will now be moving up above. There are infinitely more things to finish up now than you had originally thought, and it's going to drive you completely insane while you go about the task of vanquishing these demons. All in all though, I think I've made pretty good time so far. Hopefully my friends like what I've come up with, but I think they will, it's a pretty cool site already. Well, my brain is literally fried from all this uncommon concentration, so it's just about time to head out. One simple pleasure is the picture of the bears that you see at the top of this post. I requested that picture be added because I like bears, I think they're kickass. Now don't get me wrong, I don't want to hug a bear. Anyone who thinks that bears want anything more than to throw you on the hibachi is dumb. I have respect for the bear because he is a king destroyer and a super badass of the natural world. Not that I'm comparing myself in any way, but if I saw a grizzly trotting down main street having a snack that would be just fine. I would tip my cap and run like a bitch, chuckling at those with a slower 100 yard dash.

The light is shining through, the dawn of the digital age has finally arrived. And no, that does not mean I'm having a good day at work, it means that I've finally built a website that doesn't look like ass. It's taken years to pretend to hone these tech skillz of mine, and finally all that procrastination has paid off. Someone actually did it for me. Well, not exactly but they built the software that made making my site a cinch. The program is called Joomla!, and I shit you not it's the best thing I've ever used. Whoever named it should be shot, but whoever programmed it should be given a thrown and scepter to rule over all the land, for he is king. Basically, this FREE open source software package is like an already made website with templates and all this other crap that you just tailor to your own needs. This is a lazy idiot's wet dream. On top of it all, there's all these mods out there to add on to your website that do all sorts of fun stuff. Once again, the best part of that is the fact that some other jackass did all the work, and now I can reap the benefits. Now I just have to remake my extremely crappy beer pong site using this software...

Last week was rough. It's not that work was especially tough or frustrating, and no one really gave me a hard time. There was no motivation for being in a truly foul mood but that's what it was. It was a horrid rage at my state of affairs even though it's no different today. The only difference is that I feel minimal ill will. Oh wait, it was that awful wretch of a film that shall not be named. So, time to squeeze water out of a rock, entertainment out of an exhausted brain.

So yesterday I was having lunch at the Price Chopper in town and saw an interesting bit of television. The TV was tuned to CNN and John McCain was giving a little campaign speech to a mass of converts. Now, I'm not a big fan of republicans, especially the kind of republicans that are running around the country today. It seems like personal freedom has taken a back seat to security these days, and that's fine to some degree. With the advent of global communication and rapid transit the world hasn't become more or less dangerous, just dangerous in a different way. No longer do you have to worry about sickness that mf'n penicillin can cure, and if there's a pack of wild dogs after you then grab the AK, no sweat. However, awful ish like identity theft and censorship are the modern day serpents of injustice.

So back to the topic at hand, Johnny boy McCain. Originally I said to myself, "fuck no, not another republican president". Now, I'm not so sure. I'm no political junkie but I get my fair share of information during the day. If it's a choice between Hillary and Obama, i'll probably go with Hillary. She's so fucking crazy and must be totally insane to have stayed with Bill Clinton, although i'm anxious to see what happens after the election. Obama seems like a good guy, but who the hell was he before all this election crap? Just some random dude, albeit a federal politician. Hillary has gumption, as they say, although she'll have to wade through all the usual red tape and probably have a bit more because she's a woman. It might be a little like Arnold and Jesse Ventura. It was almost a novelty to have them governing, and it got people very excited. People were excited about change, because for once a real dude was going to take office, not just another lifetime politician. But alas, it all sucked anyways and it probably aged them both exponentially in the process.

Ok, this time it's really back to McCain. He spoke in front of the masses and did his spiel like I'm sure all the other candidates are doing. He spoke of the war in Iraq primarily, and I actually found it to be quite intriguing. Now I don't think we should have gone over there heavy handed in the first place, I think that fucked shit up almost beyond hope. Sure Saddam was a ruthless dictator who treated his people like ass and took pot shots at us in the media. But let's face it, he was a dumb shit who had his own little bubble and he kept things under control over there. So eventually we get there, blow everything up, and people are happy. Then the insurgents come, and now nothing works. People already hated America, now they fucking despise us. Alright, that sucks a nut, wish were weren't there, don't really know why we are. Then this shit drags on for 5 more god damn years, and what the hell is going on over there? Does anyone really know? Bush says things are always improving, impartial media and some generals say the shit's fucked. Who do you believe? Well the basic conclusion is that management of the war was so lame that it was destined to fail. That's a bitch. So what to do now? I used to think that we should just gtfo (that's get the f out, if you're not in the know) right away and say f that decrepit sandpit. But now that we've destabilized things to the extreme, would it really be safe for us to leave? Surely Iran in its infinite retardation would move right in and get on their pulpit, not to mention the countless insurgents that are chomping at the bit. That means that we're not only fucking the people who's lives we've taken over in Iraq, it also creates a breeding ground for these religious zealot assfucks. So Hillary and Obama want immediate pullout, while McCain is stressing his need for better management. Seriously, I don't know who to vote for anymore. And how can you decide when the media doesn't reflect what's happening in the world? wtf.

There is a new nutritional sensation brewing in the model community that has yet to crossover into the mainstream. It's called the Ugly Animal Diet. Basically, all animals are ranked on a scale of attractiveness with no upward ceiling. This means that while a baby kitten might have 100 Attractive Units (AUs), a Bengal tiger may have 2,000 AUs, and a peacock might have 5,000 AUs. Given that information, you are to eat strictly from the lowest end of the scale where the hideous freaks of the animal world reside. This keeps the world looking really good and you don't have to feel bad about eating the flesh off these creature's bones. A long term effect will be a mass exodus of these supremely unattractive beasts from our sight, leaving room only for the sleekest of feral delights. Anteaters will run for their lives, as will the hippopotamus. There is a slight chance that these rejects will join forces to form a "Gorilla" army to oppose our moral imperative. Let's not worry about that, though.

Well, in the aftermath of what turned out to be one of the biggest disappointments of my life, I'm actually getting more pissed. I didn't think that was possible, because really, it's just a damn movie. It sucked, no doubt about it, it sucked an enormous phallus, but what I'm feeling transcends that completely. Let's for a moment imagine our favorite movie series, whatever it may be. Then, 20 years later, another sequel turns up. It's the worst movie you've ever seen, it's like the prequel to Street Fighter. Well that's going to perturb you some for sure, but you can forget it eventually. But what if you read something like this, after seeing the movie:

-"A rollicking class reunion that stands as the second best entry in the venerable series."

or how about this

-"Fortunately, a smart script and great set pieces make this tale of ___, ___ and __ a worthy capstone to the series."
(the blanks can constitute whatever the fuck was in the movie)

A fucking capstone? Would that make you angry? No? Ok, here's the one that really pissed me off this morning.

-" Tremendously entertaining addition to the series -- second only to Raiders, in fact"

Ok mister critic, so what you're saying is that this delightful ass biscuit is better than not only Temple of Doom but also The Last Crusade? What in the fuck has gone wrong with the world, seriously. I'm not sure what movie this ass affiliate saw but I hope to god he was drunk. Drunk people can get a strange kick out of messing with other people so may sweet Jesus have mercy on his soul. You know what? If they had stopped the movie halfway through and threw in a copy of Porky's 2 that would have been alright. How the fuck can you see this movie and not feel violated, god damn it god damn it. As an aside, I liked Temple of Doom, and for whatever reason, it's getting trashed. Well how about this, if you don't like Temple of Doom, you can go suck a dog dick. And if you think that Indy 4 is better than any of the past Indy movies then you should probably open up a vein, just to give the rest of us a break. Thanks.

Well, as you can see by the title, I'm a little miffed and dear old Indy. This rant will cover everything I hated about this disappointing piece of dog shit. Last night was turning out great. I was hanging at the bar with some good friends, imbibing on cheap drinks and decent food, this is the usual Wednesday night. Then, it is suggested that we go see the new Indiana Jones flick on Thursday night after beer pong. Wow, that sounds sweet, I'm down. Then, and even finer suggestion is made, why don't we catch the 12:01am showing tonight? Well fuck yeah! Wow, I was jolted into a state of pure excitement and anticipation. So around 11:15pm we head over to the theater, hoping that there are seats left. The movie is playing in 2 rooms so as to give anxious moviegoers ample space. Nice touch.

After 25 minutes of god damn commercials and shit previews the movie begins. The opening scene seems weird, the lighting isn't quite right. It's almost as if there's a stocking over the camera lens to give everything a strange dull yet too bright look. Whatever, no matter. Usual stupid crap happens, military, excitement, everything you expect. Some Russians open fire on Americans, break into some base, ok I can deal with that. Then they throw an old as fuck Indy out of the trunk they were carrying him in, and this is where the movie takes a fucking nosedive into hell. The dialogue, it's so mf'n unnatural. Let me first say that I love Harrison Ford's acting, he is a badass. In the original Star Wars he brought levity and a natural speech to the sometimes stiff script. Episode 1 showed you what happens when former-genius-turned-idiot Lucas gets a bright idea these days. While not quite as horrid as the new star wars movies, the dialogue in this film just strikes you as fake. Let me rephrase that, it's actually fake as fuck, and that pisses me off. Things happened much more naturally in the first 3 films, but not this crap. That was the first of many strikes.

Ok, the next transgression was finding the mummy. You see, there is this mummy, and the Russians want it, real bad. They want it so bad they send some retardo strike force to break into area 51 to get it. Mind you, they don't want the Ark, or some nukes, they want a god damn mummy. Well by God, they deserve a fucking mummy. So as it turns out, the mummy is highly magnetic, as all mummies are. In fact, it is so god damned magnetic that if you throw buckshot into the air, it will literally fly to where the mummy is. Now, I don't want you to take this the wrong way, I don't mean fly as in go towards the mummy and fall to the ground because of gravity, heaven's no! I mean the buckshot flies in the direction of the mummy like a fine mist, a fine fucking mist. For God's sake, this was so stupid I just cringed in my seat and gave myself a pep talk. Didn't work, I knew then that this movie was ass and I could not deny that.

Damn it why did they make this movie!? Ok, so some people are pissed that Shia what's his stupid ass is in this movie as Indy's side kick. Well, who really gives a fuck? The movie was ruined well before he makes his appearance, and he's really not that bad anyways. And by that I mean that in the context of this horrid film, his performance is alright, but that's not saying much. That's basically like saying the last deuce you dropped was awesome because you took it in Vietnam in 1973. The dialogue, that is the real shitter in this film, it just doesn't flow, and instead it destroys the movie.

Fast forward a bit to where you find out what the god damn deal is with this crystal skull. This was just icing on the shit cake. Aliens, fucking aliens. Seriously? Aliens? Alright, I don't fucking buy it but whatever, just keep the film rolling. About this time you'll be asking yourself, who gives a flying shit about this? I mean, Indy should really ask himself why he gives a flipping shit about the skulls and whatever the hell else is in that dumbass jungle. In Raiders and Crusade you have Nazis, villain character development, and even mf'n Hitler signing a book. Now that's a good freakin idea. In temple you have great action, excitement, some strange voodoo shit, cool scenes and some good dialogue. Grade fucking A. This piece of shit has Russians (sweet...), no villain development, a shit story line, no fucking point to the movie, terrible dialogue, crystal fucking skulls, aliens, a damn jungle, horrid sidekick, reappearance of a horrid character, death of all worthwhile characters, anger, hatred, self loathing, and severe depression. Now the last few were what the movie induces in the viewer, but the rest were actually in there.

Damn it, damn it. Ok, I did forget something, and this is important. After escaping the Russians in beginning, Indy somehow ends up in a nuclear test side somewhere in New Mexico. So here's what happens, and I'm not embellishing. He realizes where he is, gets really fucking nervous, and jumps into a fridge. But this is no ordinary fridge, this one is LEAD LINED. A lead lined fridge, I bet that's good for food. That's just so stupid, but it gets much worse. So the bomb goes off, and everything is destroyed. The fridge gets catapulted from the house and bounces for about 200yards down some rocky mountain trail. Somehow the door stays closed, and Indy crawls out like it was his fucking bed, and he was taking a god damn nap. F that. No, fuck that, i'll do it some justice. That just not fucking right. Indy will need a new hip after this.

Ok, fuck all the jungle, alien, and Mayan crap, I'm not even gonna touch that. It's all so stupid that I shall cast it into the realm of the forgotten, right next to Street Fighter The Movie. So an old character rears her old and dilapidated head, Marion Ravenwood. You'll quickly notice that she has aged 10 lifetimes since the last movie, where she was actually attractive. Now, apparently Father Time has been ass raping her on a regular basis so much so that I feel a face transplant is in order. God damn these geriatrics. Anyways, after lots of years, she appears with the Russians, kidnapped like a little bitch. Shia plays Indy's son, and only Marion knows the truth. So she's pissed at Indy for bolting all those years back, Shia is just a dumb shit, and Indy starts acting like a fag. The real Indiana Jones would have said tough fucking shit, now jump these nuts. Instead, it's just a death spiral into estrogen oblivion. So magically, she instantly falls back in love with him, and at the end of the movie, they get fucking married. That's it. It makes so much god damn sense I was beside myself. I mean, after all this Aliens Russians bullshit why not have them get married? It only follows logic that after this idiotic adventure that they should wed, why the fuck not. The ending of the movie doesn't mean a damn thing anyways, it's not like it ruined something that was good, it just remained consistent with the sickening pace of shitty developements. Fuck this movie, I'm going to watch the others soon, just to cleanse my mind. What a worthless wretch of a motion picture, fuck it and leave it for dead.

Dearest Golf Enthusiast,

Greetings Benson, this is your personal golf anti-Christ. I would like to take this moment to share with you my thoughts on your upcoming sports season. It seems as though you have high hopes this year, well f that. You've started out the season in a glorious fashion, missing your first qualifier of the year by 3 strokes. But dear sir, you didn't shoot 5 under par and miss by 3, you shot 17 over par and missed by 3. Might I add, making the turn in 4 over par means that the back nine was more painful than death. Suprisingly, you did not steer the car into a ravine on the ride home, but then again you weren't driving. I'm sure the pitcher of beer helped a little bit, but your rage shall continue on. Also, I was able to snap a photo of you on the 18th hole, a face shot.

Yours truly,

Golf Satan

Ok, so kidding aside, shooting a poor round of golf is a painful experience. Shooting that when it's 45 degrees out with 30mph winds just f'ing sucks. However, playing the front nine in 4 over, and the back in 13 over is just god damn atrocious. Capping off the round with a triple bogey on the last hole to miss the cut by 3 strokes is unspeakable, and certainly a fucking disgrace to the game. The most asinine part of the whole deal is the 45 minute drive back home, and thank Jesus I wasn't the one driving. The very first shot i hit was a bad omen. I striped a 4 iron right at the damn pin and made one of the few pars made on that hole by the whole field. Follow that bitch with a triple bogey and you've got yourself a shit sandwich straight from the horse's ass. Well I did hit some good shots, but the 10th hole devoured my soul (and 2 of my Pro V1s) and it was all shit from there on in. Wind + Golf + Rain = stay the fuck home.