Local tales From our current issue:

Local AM station bans BEAST after severe panty-bunching incident

Of BANANAs & Bonobos
BEAST scores watery blow against acronym proliferation

(more to come...)

Issue 103:

Paper of Wreckage
NYT reporters caught red-handed reporting.
Allan Uthman

Gay Marriage Threatens Gay Happiness
A Fabulous BEAST Editorial
Ian Murphy

Flag Football
How illegal should it be?
Rich Herschlag

Eternal Sunshine of the Heartless Brain
Fox News launches Santorum's Weapon of Mass Delusion.
Christopher Famighetti

Sinking the Ship
Let's impeach him already.
Stan Goff

Ask Ann Coulter
Completely original advice from the world's foremost dumbass.

Starving for Attention
Exclusive celebrity fasting diary excerpts.

Authorities reveal failed plot to kill everyone
in New York City with motherfucking behemoth
laser-guided remote controlled killer bees

What Would Tom Bosley Do?
You may regret asking.
N. Sorrenti

Man Makes Clever Joke about France Surrendering World Cup
Josh Righter

Page 3 Falsified Death

Kino Korner: Movies
Supterman, Pirates of the Carribean, Click, Devil Wears Prada.

Music review: Knife Crazy
Jacob Drun

Your cosmic fortune in insult form.

[sic] - Letters
Coulter-bashing, progeny tallies, the Bauerle conspiracy, & vacationing down under.

Feeding the ultimate troll.
Al Uthman

Belafonte can't shake tally-man past.
Christopher Famighetti

A Small Rabbit out of a Big Hat
Pentagon media moguls cancel Zarqawi.
Stan Goff

Al Qaeda Idol
Vote for the next #2!

The BEAST Conservative Q&A
Answering questions that plague Republicans.

Five Questions...
for WGRZ anchor Ron Plants!

Coping with Road Rage
What can you do?
Scott Borchert

Hammer Hits Hollywood
The Big Buy: Tom DeLay’s Stolen Congress
Movie Review by Matt Cale

Stormtrooping for Dollars
Blog by boys in blue bodes badly for Buffalo

Power Tool
Brian Higgins, the enemy within


Superman Returns

ďI sincerely hope you get this message. Iím disgusted with the media. Iím looking at the new Superman boy and the reason they hired him was because heís basically got Chris Reevesí mouth and voice pretty much and heís slightly different. Itís like being in love with a celebrity and meeting a girl looks slightly like her with supreme character defects. Not the fucking same, hello! Kate Bosworth, oh my God! She looks like she had face work, man. She had serious face work done. She doesnít look right, man. That and the fucking Val Kilmer family on that fucking Geico commercial. Iím just disgusted with the media. Why donít they fucking show us the real thing? Why donít the show us human personality? Something about the human condition, you know? Not this fucking Hollywood glitz. Itís out of hand. Sodom and Gomorrah! And you know what? Sodom and Gomorrah burned because if it. They BURNED because of it! We need to nuke Los Angeles, Michael! We need to do this! We need to get uranium! We need to nuke them! Weíve got to do it while the ironís hot, man. Now Patriot Act and all that--got to be carefulÖ!Ē

-Voicemail from Tom Maccio, 7/3/06 8:08 PM

While this message from Tom Maccio all but sums up our uncontrolled and often absurd misadventures together, the man isnít far off concerning Superman Returns. By the time this issue hits the stands, there will be practically no one who would not have seen a big red S somewhere as The Man of Steel has come out of 19 year-long hibernation (minus a pair of misfired TV series.)

But itís different this time! Instead of a buddy movie with Richard Pryor or a battle with a solar-powered mullet head, Superman returns to Earth after a five-year mission to Krypton upon a rumor of the planetís survival. Aside from asking its audience to forget that Superman III and IV were ever made, it shows us how Superman copes with the fact that the world has gotten along without him and returns to find Lois Lane has a son and a new man. Oh, and Lex Luthor still wants Superman dead. Bring a book! Jesus! I know that Superman isnít even close to being one of the most interesting superheroes, but put forth some effort here! I donít even know where to start!

Letís start with the piss poor script. When I first heard the deal with Superman Returns, I was thinking benefit of the doubt considering the talent involved. Bryan Singer (X-Men 1 and 2, The Usual Suspects) directing and Kevin Spacey as Lex Luthor. I knew Iíd be there, but I just wasnít sure when. But about halfway through the movie I was wishing that Superman got sucked into a black hole during his opening credits journey back. When he wasnít spewing out the 8 lines of dialogue he had, he was moping around over Lois Lane or thinking about chimpanzees wrestling with cats. Then apparently in his five-year absence, Superman forgot that Clark Kent is supposed to be a geek and not dress out of an Eddie Bauer catalog (nothing screams ďdorkĒ like Armani glasses and a hundred-dollar haircut). Then weíve got Lois Laneónow with an extra bad perm and 99% less tenacity. I know sheís got the grossly underused plot device of a kid in tow, but get a frickiní nanny already! And whoever came up with this kinder, gentler Perry White crap seriously needs a punch in the neck. But what really took the cake was Lex Luthorís master plan. Yeah, letís put up Section 8 versions of the Fortress of Solitude everywhere and rent them out. Were the guys who wrote this slop smoking crack behind a Motel 6 dumpster when they thought this one up? And not one mention of Truth, Justice and The American Way.

And letís not forget how great everyoneís performances were. Iím convinced (as is Maccio) that Brandon Routh was hired to play Superman for the sole reason that he slightly resembles Christopher Reeve and not for his acting ability. He acts with the 57,856 hours of weight training and the costume. Then thereís the matter of Kate Bosworth as Lois Lane. I havenít seen a casting decision this bad since Keanu Reeves was cast as a guy with too much information in his head as Johnny Mnemonic. I think 6 pieces of toast couldíve done a better job as Lois Lane. WILLIAM SHATNER WOULDíVE DONE A BETTER JOB AS LOIS LANE! AL UTHMAN WOULDíVE BEEN A BETTER LOIS LANE! And as for Kevin Spaceyís performance as LuthoróI can at least say I now know what it would be like to witness disappointment and anticlimax get into a horrible, horrible car accident. Spacey was the perfect Luthor, as his performance was as dull as Routhís Superman/Clark Kent. The only thing that could have possibly justified this much moroseness in what is supposed to be the biggest comic book movie ever is a brain tumor.

But all this ranting is not to suggest Superman Returns was an entirely horrible movie. I saw it in 3D at the IMAX. The effects were amazing and justified what would have normally been an inflated ticket price. Pair these mind-blowing effects with amazing and often Christ-like imagery and youíve got a 200 million dollar piece of beautiful eye candy. So yeah, itís your typical summer movie. Iíd recommend seeing it on a big screen, more importantly in IMAX 3D because frankly youíre not going to get the same bang out of it even if youíve got a great home theater system. However, Iíd also recommend that before you get all excited to see a comic book movie that you ask yourself what that particular hero is about and what they instill in the citizens of their particular city. Superman happens to be about hope and he happens to have the powers of a god, not to mention that heís not even human. When all is said and done a comic book movie is only as good or as interesting as its hero. Superman Returns proves this.

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Manís Chest

Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl was actually a pretty enjoyable movie despite the fact that it had Jerry Bruckheimerís name on it. Johnny Depp turned out a fun and clever performance while channeling a gay Keith Richards and earning an Oscar nomination as Jack Sparrow. Pirates also showcased a breakthrough performance from Keira Knightley as it offered plenty of fun sword fights, comedy and spooky special effects.† It almost made you forget that it was based on a ride at Disney World. But when all was said and done, Johnny Depp was the main draw.

So because of the success of the first movie, Bruckheimer and crew have been working feverishly to film the second and third installments simultaneously. As with any movie thatís filmed at the same time with another one, thereís something missing (think Back to the Future 3). Oh sure, the next installment of Pirates of the Caribbean, Dead Manís Chest has a lot of the things that made Curse of the Black Pearl so enjoyable: Johnny Deppís silliness, Keira Knightley in a push-up corset, thieving monkeys and swashbuckling action. But something was wrong with Dead Manís Chest. Many of the jokes alluded to the previous movie, but when all was said and done, Dead Manís Chest served one purpose and one purpose alone: setting it up for Pirates of the Caribbean: At Worldís End. In other words, youíre spending money in order to spend more money.

I was such a rube. Unfortunately I didnít realize this until things started to get worse and worse for our heroes to the point where the only thing that could turn it all around for them was another movie. I donít care that I was mildly entertained for the better part of 3 hours or that I got to see a squid man smoke a pipe. It wasnít as fun as Curse of the Black Pearl and Keira Knightley was dressed up as a man in the few scenes she was in. Bah!

Thereís a reason I donít shop at Rent A Center or order appetizers before dinner. I want it all in one shot. I like things self-contained and I hate cliffhangers. Itís one thing when youíre trying to land a pixiesque Jewish princess, but escapism is an entirely different animal. Few things piss me off more than having to wait months or years on end to find out What Happens Next even though youíve got a really good idea what will happen.

Part of Curse of the Black Pearlís appeal was that it was a bit more than typical mindless summer movie time entertainment. It had a certain freshness and resolve that isnít often found at the theaters during the summer months. More importantly, it seemed to appeal to everyone while spawning a new generation of pirate fetishists. Now with this suspenseful installment garbage, itís becoming less like fun and more like a mortgage. Black Pearl was kind of like someone making a good impression on you and becoming your friend. Itís good to make new friends, right? But Dead Manís Chest was more like your new pal whoís hanging out at your place and eating all your food, crashing on your couch and borrowing cash. Heís all take take take with not much give give give.† Oh, and he wants to crash with you until late Fall 2007. Did you pick up any more beer?


Itís a little known fact that the 1990 movie Pretty Woman wasnít originally written as a Pygmalionesque Cinderella story about a hooker with a heart of gold. It wasnít a fun little chick flick with a happy ending. It was initially a dark and depressing love story where the Richard Gere character dumps all over the Julia Roberts character throughout the movie before throwing her out of the limo at the end. Iíd have loved to see that.

I thought about this when I was watching Click, the new Adam Sandler movie where he comes across a remote control that allows him to weave through his life as if it had a chapter search on a DVD. How many times have you sat on the couch, baked out of your gourd as you not so violently flipped though the channels and thought to yourself, how awesome would it be if this remote control worked on my life? Yeah, me neither. And what I thought about even less than this was how much Iíd like to see this potentially oxygen-deprived premise made into a movie, or how Iíd love to see Adam Sandler in it.

As Sandler uses his all-powerful remote control to scroll through the parts of his life that are too stressful or too boring, he discovers that most of his life has passed him by. And as I encountered every of the numerous notes that Click missed, I became more and more convinced that this could have been a great movie. It reminded me of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind at points, but it decided to go the road of sophomoric and less than witty physical humor. And nothing says playing it smart like sticking David Hasselhoff on the credits.

Yay! I feel so much better knowing that I must suffer and that it builds character like a large-scale paper route. Debt actually is a great thing. So is knowing that I canít eat hot salsa without running the risk of shitting Nagasaki. Nothing makes me feel better than working almost 60 hours a week between 3 jobs because I love EVERY GODDAMNED MINUTE OF IT!!! And if there was a DVD of my life the first chapter Iíd go to is the one(s) where I realize that Iíve made a very big mistake. Oh goody.

Click is actually a terrific downer and donít let Adam Sandlerís big, dopey head convince you otherwise. Oh sure, youíll giggle a few times but when you leave that theater and walk into the blinding sunlight youíre going to probably be depressed and wonder what the hell youíve done with your own life. The marketing department that sold Click was very clever in getting its audience to believe that Adam Sandler was going to make their problems go away for a better part of two hours. It reminded me of another marketing ploy, for the DVD release of The Matador. It was a brilliant comedy/buddy movie. If you see commercials for it or even look at the artwork on the DVD, youíll notice that it gives you the impression youíll be watching a smarmy action movie with plenty of violence, loads of gunplay and no laughs, when nothing could be further from the truth.

Seeing this movie for the sole purpose of entertainment was like going on a blind date with a snaky ex-girlfriend and having her try to convert you over to Scientology for 2 hours as she fills her once-kissable face with fried okra and cornbread. You also have to ditch the idea of getting drunk just so that cold sore doesnít come anywhere near you, which is something thatís not going into the plus column. And if youíre not running for the door yet, the fact that her new favorite singer is Pink could very well result in your suicide right there at the table. Whereís that special remote control when you need it?

The Devil Wears Prada

Now hereís a movie that in theory could have been amusing at best. Youíve got Anne Hathaway whom I enjoy looking at very much, despite suffering from SBLS (Susceptible to Bad Lighting Syndrome) from time to time. She can look downright Downy sometimes. Then weíve got Meryl Streep, who was a beautiful creature who has turned into a handsome woman. She consistently turns out great performances while lending an air of graceful credibility to anything she works on. So weíve got an up and coming hottie starring in a movie with the Hera of living American Actresses. You get to drool a little on yourself as you catch a good performance. Sometimes the movieís a drag but she was usually good. What can we stick them in together? How about a young Midwesterner moving to the Big City and her fashion magazine Boss From Hell?

This is the kind of movie that would drive Tom Maccio into a living coma. He would talk in detailed, yet chaotic rantings about movies like this. He would discuss it in terms of Milf factor, Overall Fashion Sense and Drag Queen Sensibilities. For Maccio, Streep would win for the first and the third counts, but he would adore Hathawayís wardrobe and ďgunsĒ enough to award her for the second. When heíd get bored he would spout obscenities at the screen whether he was alone or not. Peanut butter fuck bucket was a favorite of his.

But he would have an apocalyptic vision during a state of boredom and talk about how much better this movie would be if it had ninjas, sword wielding skeletons and an Evil Knievel stunt footage segment. Either that or make glib remarks throughout the remainder. Usually the latter.

The reason for this was that there are only two types of people who will like this movie, fag hags and their gay boyfriends. Nothing wrong there, but you should bring a book if youíre a straight guy. I brought a book and it was actually the novel of The Devil Wears Prada. Nah, I donít even own that book. Maccio ranted about DC Comics and uranium for 67 minutes.



Idiot Box by Matt Bors
Big Fat Whale by Brian McFadden
Perry Bible Fellowship by Nicholas Gurewitch
Bob the Angry Flower by Stephen Notely
Deep Fried by Jason Yungbluth

e-mail the evil editors at sic@buffalobeast.com
John Stossel's Invisible Handjob
The Great Buffalo-Ottawa Mayoral Prank
I'm with Stupid: Tony Snow
10 Questions for Scott McClellan
Ask Dr. Cruise
Guide to Post-9/11 Opportunism
GWB's Rapture Report
Iraqi Civil War Chess Set
© Copyright 2002-2005, The Beast. All rights reserved.