Azn Badger's Blog

What About the Lysine Contingency…?

The Top 10 Manliest Man Moments #6: “Remember Jefferson, 20 Seconds!”

Today we reach the halfway point in the Azn Badger’s list of the Top 10 Manliest Man Moments in movies.

That’s not to say the MANLIEST MAN moments covered today and previously aren’t worth their weight in MANLINESS; rather they’re simply MANLY to a degree that makes them not quite worthy of the Top 5.

That being said, it causes me actual physical pain to rank it below the Top 5, but in any case our 6th MANLIEST MOMENT comes from perhaps the MANLIESTof WWII movies; The Dirty Dozen:

Or if you were on the other side of the conflict: "Das dreckige Dutzend!"

As with seemingly every entry on this list, The Dirty Dozen represents a drastically different school of MANLINESS; namely that of the classic “LEATHER-FACED MEN OF EPIC HARDNESS” subgenre that was prevalent in the 60’s and 70’s.

Whether you blame it on the fairly recent emergence of PC culture, or the government slowly poisoning our water supply with “pussy-fying” drugs; it’s hard to argue that the MANLY MEN of generations past bore a “harder” and more world weary image than those of today.

Drover or not, I'd put my money on Bronson...

It’s this HARD image that The Dirty Dozen thrives on.

As is evident from the title of the film, virtually the entire cast of major players in the film are made up of lowdown dirty bastards that are serving time for war crimes.

The vast majority of the Dozen are impetuous and irredeemable sons of bitches that probably should hang for the shit they’ve done, but at the end of the day; they’re all exactly the breed of HARD MEN that are needed to do what must be done.

In this case, the mission at hand happens to be a (fictional) mass assassination of several high ranking Nazi officials just before the D-Day invasion.

Despite the action-packed conclusion, by far the strongest aspect of The Dirty Dozen, is the fact that despite most of the cast being bigots and murderers; at the end of the day you end up caring about what happens to them:

Pictured: The appropriately named "Maggott," who nearly blew the entire mission.

Well, most of them anyway…

Being as there really are over a dozen fucking MANLY MEN in this movie, there really isn’t time to cover everyone; but at the very least I feel I should mention some of the more prominent heavy hitters in the roster.

First off there’s Lee Marvin, the MAN so MANLY even Toshiro Mifune was forced to acknowledge him as his equal.

Trust me, if this guy says you're cool; you're fucking COOL.

Marvin’s Major Reissman serves as the badass leader of the group.

While not a convicted a man like the rest of the Dozen, Reissman demonstrates, on more than a few occasions; that he’s every bit as SAVAGE as they are, and if anyone wears the pants in their relationship, it’s him.

Like Tom Selleck and his mustache, Lee Marvin made an entire career of being a tough-as-nails army dude; and The Dirty Dozen serves as an perhaps the finest example of his acting method.

Expect maybe The Delta Force. The Delta Force was the shit...

Next up is Charles Bronson as the German speaking Wladislaw, who as we all know can’t help but be a BADASS FUCKING SPHINX of a MAN even during something as sedate as a word association therapy session:

BADASS. FUCKING. SPHINX.

Throughout his lengthy career, Bronson played the LEATHER-FACED HARD MAN bit to the point of self-parody.

It’s not his fault, I mean fuckin’ look at him!

How could you ask a man with a MANLY FUCKING CATCHER’S MITT for a face to be anything but HARD in whatever role you cast him in!?

More importantly, what self-respecting MAN would pass up an opportunity to make use of said MANLINESS in a movie?

Apparently none, hence the reason the world has 5 Death Wish movies.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that…

In addition to Marvin and Bronson, I feel it’s worth mentioning that The Dirty Dozen also featured the EPIC MANLINESS of Cool Hand Luke and The Naked Gun’s George Kennedy, as well as the always awesome Ernest Borgnine and Robert Ryan of The Wild Bunch fame.

Pictured: A DAMN MAN.

It’s unfortunate that all 3 of said EPIC individuals are only in the movie for a few short minutes, but even so; their presence did a lot to bolster the palpable air of MANLINESS that permeates every frame of The Dirty Dozen.

Now, I’ve spent a great long while sucking the cock of this movie, and yet, up until now; I’ve actually made no mention of the MANLIEST MAN moment contained within it.

Said moment belongs to none of the awesome individuals mentioned above, nor any sort of big-time movie star; but rather to football legend turned actor, Jim FUCKING Brown:

Whatever movie this image is from, I haven't seen it. Looks fuckin' savage though...

As the only black member of the Dozen, Jim FUCKING Brown’s Robert T. Jefferson spends much of the movie at odds with the majority of his comrades.

The target of bitter racism during the early portions of the film, Jefferson responds in kind with hate of his own.

Despite this, Jefferson demonstrates a clear sense of duty and commitment to his mission that rivals even the most steadfast of the Dozen, as evidenced by he and Bronson’s Wladislaw going out of their way to prevent John Cassavete’s Victor R. Franko from deserting, thereby scrapping the entire mission.

It’s this sense of duty that ultimately leads to Jefferson’s death, which also happens to be our 6th MANLIEST MAN moment:

At this point in the movie, the Dozen’s forces have been cut down to a mere half-Dozen; and things are starting to get down to the wire.

Having succeeded in forcing the Nazi officials into the bomb shelter area beneath the mansion, our heroes work frantically to throw grenades into the air ducts that lie just above the bunker.

... And based on the big-ass grin on Jim FUCKING Brown's face, I'd say they enjoyed it.

As enemy forces rapidly bear down the mansion, members of the Dozen simultaneously work to provide cover fire to those prepping the explosives, and secure a half-track to use as their getaway vehicle.

Eventually, the half-track is readied and the machine gun crew begin to displace, however one thing remains out of place:

The explosives need to be detonated, and the only man in position to do so is:

JIM. FUCKING. BROWN.

Before he can make a move though, Jim FUCKING Brown is ambushed by a sniper, who proves to be a terrible shot; thusly prompting Mr. FUCKING Brown to dispose of him in decidedly MANLYfashion:

Following this, Jim FUCKING Brown strips off his extraneous gear and steels himself for the task at hand one of the Dozen yells:

“Remember Jefferson, 20 seconds!”

20 seconds?

The man runs 100 yards a game, I would think he can run a Nazi driveway in 20 fucking seconds!

With that Mr. FUCKING Brown clenches a pair of grenades in his hands and steels himself for the task of EPIC MANLINESS that lay before him.

Chucking his first grenade into the air duct beside him, Jefferson breaks out into a trademark Jim FUCKING Brown sprint towards destiny…

Run Jim FUCKING Brown! Run!

With enemy fire incoming all the while, he reaches the 2nd duct and puts a pineapple in there without skipping a beat.

Making his way to the 3rd and final duct, Jefferson fumbles with his last grenade, costing him precious seconds as he struggles to dislodge the spoon.

Looks like somebody got caught with their hand in the cookie jar...

With all of the explosives in place, Jim FUCKING Brown runs down the homestretch of the mansion driveway; when from out of nowhere, hidden just beside a nearby bridge, he is gunned down in mid-sprint by a Nazi soldier.

As his body collapses against the brick driveway, the remaining Dozen members call out to Jefferson in both agony and anger.

Mere seconds later though, all emotions are put on hold as the massive fireworks show that would be Jefferson’s parting gift springs to life, thereby solidifying the exploits of the mission; no matter how chaotic or disorderly, a job well done.

BOOM.

As the of the mansion cuts a fiery swath across the night sky, all the fighting and gunfire seems to pause for a moment.

Despite this, with the memory of his fallen friend and comrade still fresh in his mind, Lee Marvin turns to the bridge and revenge-kills the fuck out of the Nazi bastard that took out the Dirty Dozen’s Ambassador of MANLINESS, Jim FUCKING Brown.

Make that, "Overweight Nazi Bastard."

Pair this immediate revenge/spite killing of the Nazi soldier with the fact that Jim FUCKING Brown is the only member of the Dozen to get a sad music cue as a result of his death, and you have a MANLY moment worthy of the Top 10 MANLIEST MAN moments of all time.

If all that isn’t enough to convince you, I present to you the heap of forlorn reaction shots that show up as soon as our boy Jefferson goes down:

Anyway, thus concludes our 6th MANLIEST MAN moment in movies!

Check back tomorrow for MANLY moment #5!

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Filed under: Movies, The Best Track in the Game, Top 10 Manliest Man Moments, Uncategorized, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Summon Tactical Panda!!!

This, my friends; is what happens when I have absolutely nothing to write about.

No videogame news, no boxing news, no movie news, no silly articles, nada.

Oh well, instead you get treated to shitty photoshop art of Tactical Pandas.

Enjoy!

 

Filed under: Boxing, Games, Movies, Uncategorized, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

December 14 2010: A Date Which Will Live In Rectal Infamy


Today my anus was sneak attacked as few anuses have been, uh, “snuck” attacked before it.

It all began 2 days ago at the dinner table…

My father, adventurous chef that he is; acquired a half dozen lamb shanks and broiled/stewed/cooked the shit out of them.

Lamb Shanks: The Silent Killer

Served awash in their own juices, as well as a healthy dousing of gravy, cranberries and mushrooms; the lamb was mouth-wateringly juicy and undeniably scrumptious.

It was a fine meal, fit for a king even.

… And then the lamb shanks made a second appearance on the dinner table the following evening.

Once again partaking of the greasy and oh so delicious lamb, I had no idea I was testing the limits of my stomach’s capacity to process hearty and/or artery clogging foods.

That evening I went to bed a boy with a full stomach.

Today I come before you, a man.

A man that can’t so much as bend over without feeling like he’s got a wad of tin foil lodged in his asshole.

Yeah, I wish I was kidding...

Honestly man, despite all the bathroom war stories I’ve shared on this blog, the one that I experienced earlier today was the worst I’ve ever experienced.

The worst part of it, as indicated by the title of this post; was the fact that I had no idea what was coming my way until it was already halfway out of me.

It began as many anal skirmishes do, with a persistent, but otherwise mild feeling of itchiness in my rectum.

Still at work at the time, I decided to ignore the warning shot across my asses’ bow in favor of keeping busy.

Throughout the day, the itchiness persisted, gradually pervading my consciousness and making it difficult to stay on task.

The problem was, I honestly didn’t feel like I needed to dump ass, my canal just felt itchy is all.

Anyway, as one might expect, after hours of itchiness in my cheek trench, I decided to set aside some time during my lunch break and attempt a little preemptive toilet bombing.

Y’know, just to see if there was in fact something stewing around in my guts that wanted out, but was just too shy to send out a warning fart to let me know.

Let me take a second to point something out to you:

We don’t sit down at the Amazon.com warehouse.

We get lunch and a few breaks, but outside of that; there’s almost no task in the warehouse that allows for one to sit down.

That being said, from the time I started getting my warning itch, to the time I actually decided to address it, I was never once squatting, bent over, or sitting down.

Had I done any one of those things, I probably wouldn’t have ignored those anal itches as foolishly as I did.

The moment I lifted my ass and bent my knees to plop down on the toilet, I felt my anus tear itself apart in a firestorm of rectal fury.

Pearl Harbor?

The Firebombing of Dresden?

The nuclear detonations at Hiroshima and Nagasaki?

Fucking child’s play compared to the furious inferno of hellfire rampaging through my asshole at ground zero.

As I sit here typing this, I still don’t know what the fuck happened.

It seriously felt like someone took an icepick, rammed it up my ass, and then “stirred” it around up there like they were making brownie mix or some shit.

I would take this any day over what I went through this afternoon...

Did I mention the icepick had been heated with a blowtorch?

Anyway, despite my eyes beginning to drip with tears from the pain an intensity of the battle ensuing down below; I nevertheless made the commitment to press forward and expel the foul beast of bile that had so viciously crippled my asshole.

While the sneak attack on my asshole was easily the most painful experience of today’s instance of bathroom warfare, the actual shit was pretty epic as well.

It’s not often I take long shits, but today’s sneaky turd was a good 6-8 incher.

While that may not be much by most standards, the real issue was the fact that, while he might not have been epicly long, he made me fight for every inch.

You ever seen a Moray Eel?

Note the abundance of the knives and stabbing weapons in his mouth...

Well, imagine pushing that out your anus, while it’s head’s inside you tearing away at your innards.

Needless to say, it was a hard fought battle that I feel fortunate to have survived.

Upon finally expelling the foul beast of brown from my bruised and bloodied hole of shame, I quickly flushed it away fearing it might in fact have been some sort of nasty creature out to get me from the inside out:

In case you’re a 5 year old, and think that Jason Lee was wrestling with his (presumably) monstrous cock in this clip; it’s actually a “shit-weasel” from Stephen King’s Dreamcatcher.

Quite faithfully rendered from the source material as well if I do say so myself.

Anyway, consider yourselves fortunate you weren’t me today folks.

Though I may be alive and mostly well, (my ass still hurts like a motherfucker…) something tells me I’ll be having flashbacks and night terrors over this one for some time…

Filed under: Movies, Uncategorized, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Azn Badger’s Guide To Foods That Will Wreck Your Shit-Hole

Haha, poop on head!

Yesterday I posted a 1,000+ word article on the subject of defecation and it’s place in American culture.

I’m proud to say it’s one of the better posts I’ve made in the past month or so.

That being said, today I’ve decided to follow up the success of that gloriously shit-stained post by putting together a list of foods that I’ve done battle with on the porcelain throne over the years.

Please bear in mind that this list is based entirely of my personal experience, as well as through knowledge imparted to me by others comfortable enough to do so.

That being said, the following will be quite detailed, and very likely; too graphic for some.

You have been warned.

Dried Mango:

 

Pictured: The best brand. Trust me, there are some truly shitty brands...

A personal favorite of mine (eating it right now in fact!).

I’ve built up a tolerance to it over the years, but newbies will be greeted with frequent and chunky shits containing undigested, and still quite yellow, fragments of mango.

Said effects only manifest when consumed in mass quantities.

Not painful to deal with, but the frequency of shits can be troublesome if you have an upcoming social occasion.

Best eaten/OD’ed on when your schedule is clear for the day.

Note: Philippine brand mango is recommended, as it easily the highest quality.  Stay away from Top Food’s bulk version though.

It’s orange.

Last time I checked, mango wasn’t orange

Dried Papaya:

Eww... Those don't look like any papaya I would buy...

Not as tasty as mango, but extremely easy to OD on due to the richness of the fruit.

Results in slight constipation, and slight headache if consumed in mass quantities.

Can occasionally cause one’s shit to become mucus-like in consistency.

Be mindful of over-indulging, as it can result in an itchy sensation in the rectum that makes it difficult to gauge the urgency of impending shits.

Seriously, it’s like your anus is pulling a rope-a-dope on your nervous system, tricking it into thinking it needs to drop a deuce when there’s simply no deuces to drop.

Extremely frustrating to contend with, as constipation is equally as likely to manifest as the never ending, itchy “good God, I need to shit like a camel needs to spit” sensation.

Recommended in small portions, or not at all; as dried mango is a billion times more tasty anyway…

Almond Butter:

Whaddaya' know, it looks the same goin' in as it does comin' out!

A tasty peanut butter alternative that goes down smooth, but puts on a helluva’ fight on the way out.

As mentioned above, it produces no noticeable symptoms upon initial consumption, however it grows fangs/balls sometime during the digestion process, resulting in sneakily urgent shits later in the day.

Said evacuation process is actually not so much painful, as it is uncomfortable and anti-climactic.

Uncomfortable in the sense that one’s shits produce an irritating itching sensation, not to mention are rendered disappointingly miniscule by man-standards.

(Yes, we have standards for that.)

Anti-climactic in the sense that one’s body goes ape-shit telling them they need to get to a toilet right now, so they can anally evict the rampaging shit-leopard from their bowels before it quite literally tears them a new asshole, only to find that the resulting ass-leavings were a shit-kitty at best.

Still, that itching sensation can be epicly frustrating…

Raisins:

"Well hello there raisin hottie, what'cha' got there? HOLY JEEBUS, DON'T YOU REALIZE WHAT THOSE'LL DO TO ME!?"

Don’t let the friendly mascot of the hot Mexican chick fool you, raisins claim the porcelain throne as their second home, carving their name into the asshole of any man foolish enough to challenge them on their turf.

Seriously man, raisins are tough customers.

Consumption results in severe gas and an unrelenting feeling of “oh my God, I need to take a shit so bad” so severe, that most men opt to spend the remainder of the day in the John, y’now, just in case.

Despite this, the process of sending raisins on the endless descent into the white bowl of doom is where the actual wrecking of one’s shit generally occurs.

Said shit is akin to experiencing the crippling “oh my God, why won’t my ass stop crying” symptoms of diarrhea, while undergoing the “holy shit, why won’t my anus come out and play?” symptoms of constipation.

Seriously, the resulting shit is a marathon of anal endurance; the likes of which few can endure.

It’s like a 12 round war of attrition, broken up by frequent, and unsettling bouts of clinching.

Or is that “clenching?”

Despite one’s best efforts, in this particular equation, one is simply doomed to ride out the literal shit-storm of anal flotsam and debris that will very likely adorn their bathroom walls over the next 15-360 minutes.

Make no mistake, war is hell; especially when fought on the crapper…

Cheese (Any of the Cow variety):

"Ah, the power of chees..."

I am Japanese.

History teaches us that, for a very long time, my people had no cows.

Make no mistake, when it comes to foods that wreck my shit, few things of this Earth can do so as quickly, efficiently, and as unfailingly as dairy products.

While eggnog is a close second, I honestly feel that cheeses have the greatest capacity to tear my rectum inside out and fold it over my head like a shitty hockey player on the receiving end of a particularly savage hockey beatdown.

Consumption of cheese results in noticeable symptoms right off the bat.

It all starts with the “cheese sweats.”

Y’know, that nasty feeling where you feel all greasy and short of breath every time you exert yourself even a little.

Once the “cheese sweats” have settled in, then the nasal congestion starts to rear it’s ugly head, making you look like an ass as you constantly snort and blow your nose in a lame attempt to keep from breathing through your mouth like a loser.

Seriously, nobody likes a mouth breather.

NOBODY.

Once all of that has settled in, things finally come to a head as the dreaded “cheese gas” starts acting up, causing your anus to cough up clouds of all sorts of Evil Cow God cursed gasses that no man (or woman) of this Earth are meant to (nor able to) contend with.

Make no mistake, when an Asian declares bathroom jihad on a product of the dairy clan; collateral damage is not only expected, it’s a certainty.

That being said, unless you’re comfortable with living out the rest of your days knowing that a handful of people’s faces were Ark of the Covenant-ed by the noxious “cheese gas” crop-dusting from your shit-hole on your long march to the porcelain theater of war, I would suggest removing one’s self from any public venues before consuming any cheeses.

Despite the immense possibilities for public humiliation, doing battle with cheese is much like taking on a bully.

He may put on a big bravado, humiliating you from time to time, and even going so far as getting physical with you every now and again; but once you get him into the ring and start trading with him, he folds like the lips of your anus in the off-season.

In short, the actual battle with cheese is rather brief, and actually ends up feeling like a relief after all the tortuous build-up.

Either that, or you get diarrhea.

Really BAD diarrhea…

Filed under: Uncategorized, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Do You Know Your Poop-Hole?

Written by a Japanese dude. No surprise there...

Everyone poops.

That’s not just the title of an awesome book, it’s also a stone cold fact.

A fact that too many of us seem to deny, or choose not to acknowledge.

I came to realize something a few years back:

Azn people talk about poop.

A lot.

A few years ago, I got into the habit of asking a specific question to all of my close friends.

Said question goes a little something like this:

“Hey, does your family like to talk about poop and bowel functions?”

What I discovered over the years, is that virtually all of my Asian friends, be they Thai, Cambodian, Japanese, Chinese, Korean, etc. answered me with a simple “yes,” while my friends of the decidedly paler variety, either dodged the question or replied with an emphatic “no.”

I can’t really put my finger on the details of why this is, but my best guess is that it’s a cultural difference.

While I can’t speak for any other Asian culture, being Japanese; I can say with a great deal of certainty, that we Japanese (always wanted to say that…) are a bowel obsessed people.

In America; the only talk of bowel functions, or urination, or poop that we get in mainstream media comes in the form of potty humor and TV commercials for pills that prevent old people from peeing themselves.

In general, American mainstream television seems to believe that irregular bowel functions are a problem only for the elderly and menopausal, as I’ve yet to see images of youthful people associated with the subject.

And no, Jamie Lee Curtis and her Activia ads does not count as a “youthful” spokesperson for healthy bowels in America.

If anything, it’d be more appropriate to file her under the menopausal demographic…

This is not the case in Japan.

You flip on just about any daytime television program in Japan, and I guarantee you you’ll find at least a half dozen programs for herbal bowel regulation supplements featuring interviews with young and nubile, bikini clad women openly discussing the epic shit they took the night before, or the epic shit they feel they need to take, but just can’t get out the gate due to their irregular bowel functions.

Don’t ask me why, but we Japanese talk about our poops.

All my life, I’ve gotten the feeling that my mom cares more about the health of my anus than me as a person.

Seriously, I can’t go a day without having her ask me:

“Did you get your ruffage?”

“Are you regular”

“Do you got the poops?”

Some kids go away to college for 4 years, and have their parent’s drop them a line every now and again to tell them how much they miss them, or to ask how their classes are going.

I went away for 4 years and my mom would call me every day to ask if I was backed up.

Being as I was eating at the school cafeteria most of the time, I did in fact have my fair share of bathroom war stories to report to my mother; but that’s besides the point.

The point is, in my family; the health and status of the various colons and anuses in the household have not only been fair game for discussion, they’ve played host to some of the more serious and genuinely interesting conversations we’ve had.

You may be laughing at this point, but I find that growing up being aware of, and free to discuss the state of my bowels has done me a lot of good.

Seriously, when I see some of shit that people eat, only to complain later in the day that their “stomach” is bothering them, (note: stomach is code for “anus” or “ass” among the sheepish) I can’t help but consider myself fortunate to know better than them.

Honestly folks, if you’re in good health, and know how your system reacts to whatever food you put into it; you’ll find that unwelcome “surprises” like the one mentioned above will almost never happen.

While I’m on the subject of food though, I figure I should mention why I decided to type this article today.

Today a friend of mine at work offered me some pecans as a snack.

I politely declined, citing my bowel’s inability to handle the delicious, but ass-crippling nut that is the pecan.

Actually, I think my exact words were:

“I like pecans man, but you realize they’ll wreck your shit, right?”

My comment was met with laughter, as it was indeed meant to be; but I think my buddy failed to realize that it also doubled as a genuine admonishment coming from a seasoned veteran of toilet seat warfare.

We’ll come back to that in a minute.

Anyway, sure enough, later in the day my buddy sat down next to me, his expression devoid of character, his complexion chalky and white as the Moon; and he said to me in the most humble of tones:

“So, those pecans tore through me pretty bad a minute ago…”

The kid got reeled in by the sweet taste and classy packaging of the pecans, only to end up getting his ass used as the ring for a 40-shit Royal Rumble.

Poor bastard probably blacked out putting himself in a Steiner Recliner just to get the last man over the top rope…

To that I responded with a baudy “I told you so,” however with just the slightest hint of understanding layered beneath it all.

You see, though I know my bowels like the back of my hand, I have this strange problem where many of my favorite foods/snacks just happen to be things that “upset” me.

I know this from experience, as well as from the fact that I’ve over-indulged in said food items at least once/twice/a billion times, to the point where the resulting toilet seat warfare has become routine to a fault.

It’s been a long time since I’ve waged all-out war with my anus, to the point where these days every skirmish is more akin to war games than anything else.

Trust me, I quite literally know my shit.

Tomorrow I’ll be following things up with a detailed list of tasty snacks that just happen to wreck your shit if you eat too much of them!

Excuse me while I step out to do little peacekeeping South of the border…

Filed under: Uncategorized, Wrestling, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Brian Tyler: Complacent Genius, Or One-Note Wonder?

He doesn't think he's better than me. Not at all...

Brian Tyler is one of Hollywood’s foremost “up and coming” film score composers.

Well okay fine, he’s technically not really an “up and comer,” as he’s already firmly established in the business, but given his relatively young age, and fairly recent ascendance to high-profile marquee films, I can’t really justify placing him among the old (and still working) lions like Danny Elfman, Elliot Goldenthal, or even Hans Zimmer.

Good God, somebody get Elfman away from the kindergarten!

Anyway, I first ran across Brian Tyler when perusing the internet for chase themes for use in a film project that never got off the ground.

One gem that I happened to stumble upon, was a track (or should I say “the” track) from Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift.

I can’t find a clip of it at the moment, but the track is called “The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift” and it’s track 2 on the score.

Anyway, I was blown away by the unrelenting energy, and raw power exuded by this track.

For one thing, it’s epicly long, yet somehow manages to consistently ramp up the tension and energy level throughout it’s entire running time.

More importantly though, it’s an incredibly complex composition, and yet the emotions produced when hearing it are wholly elemental to the point of being primal.

In short, though I wouldn’t see Tokyo Drift until, well, just a few months ago; Brian Tyler was instantly marked as a high priority on my radar (or should that be sonar?).

Since then, though I haven’t seen all that many of the films he’s composed, I’ve gone out of my way to look up a track or 2 from some of his higher profile works.

So far, my favorite album of his has to be his work on Rambo.

The face of approval.

While he was smart to include, and leave relatively untouched, the wonderful Jerry Goldsmith theme; every other piece of music on the soundtrack is absolutely stellar in it’s own right.

The action cues are violent and intense, and much like Tokyo Drift, have a very natural and engaging rhythm of rising tension throughout.

In particular, the Title Theme

and the final battle sequence track, No Rules of Engagement


Stand out as personal favorites of mine.

Another soundtrack of Tyler’s that I found to be quite good, was his far more subtle and restrained work on Annapolis.

Pictured: THE reason I watched Annapolis. Wasn't too bad a movie actually...

Given the naval academy setting, and slightly downbeat tone of the movie, the more casual, and stripped down feel of the music fits all too well.

To be honest, Annapolis is just about the only one of Brian Tyler’s scores that I’ve heard without being able to tell he composed it right off the bat.

Annapolis serves as a good indication as to the depths of Mr. Tyler’s talents, as though he’s since gone on to become sort one dimensional as of late; it’s movies like this that remind us that he can in fact do other things.

While I’m on the topic of Mr. Tyler’s one-dimensionality, it should be mentioned that; in my opinion, he’s already begun to phone in some of his compositions.

Off the top of my head: War, Fast & Furious, and Dragonball: Evolution were all projects of his that felt severely lacking in quality and inspiration.

No amount of musical awesomeness could've saved this pile of ass...

To be fair, those movies were severely lacking in quality and inspiration, but that shouldn’t figure into the composer’s commitment to the project.

Unless they paid him in Pogs.

 

Wow, those are shitty even by Pog standards...

If they did that, then I’d take it all back.

Anyway, Tyler’s work on these movies was bland, and honestly felt like he opened up his drawer of previously discarded action cues and just threw them onto the album.

War had a few nice motifs here and there, but most of the action cues sounded more like noise than anything else.

It’s sad really, as I read somewhere that War represented the first time Tyler got to conduct the London Symphony Orchestra.

The most recent Brian Tyler soundtrack I’ve heard, was his work on The Expendables.

Meatheads of the world unite, for your Gospel has been written...

As one would expect, being as both films involve a collaboration with Sylvester Stallone; Tyler’s music for The Expendables shares it’s tone and instrumentation with Rambo.

The only difference being that Rambo was a varied and passionate score with some killer action cues, while The Expendables is a fairly generic, almost made for TV quality score comprised largely of mediocre action cues.

Don’t get me wrong, Brian Tyler’s a damn good composer, and as such his work on The Expendables is better than a lot of Hollywood action movies these days, however personally, I expected more.

I expected the bombast and energy level to match or exceed Rambo, and instead we ended up getting the equivalent of a “meow” in comparison to the former’s roar.

Despite this, Royal Rumble is a track that found a home on my Ipod:

As it stands, Brian Tyler is poised to take the reigns as composer for Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3.

*Gasp!* We won't be shooting PEOPLE this time, will we?

Given his current “sound” that he seems to be stuck fast to, I would think he’d be a good fit for the series.

If he can access his inner Rambo, and once again marry thematic and dramatic elements to his action cues, I think he’ll do just fine.

Hell, as one note as people can accuse Brian Tyler of being, Harry Gregson-Williams (who composed the first Modern Warfare) is easily 10 times as guilty.

 

(Insert generic military hymn/Metal Gear Solid theme here)

Here’s hoping Mr. Tyler hangs around to give us great music for years to come.

Oh yeah, and it’d be nice if he tried mixing up his style too.

Jus’ sayin’ is all…

Filed under: Boxing, Movies, Uncategorized, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

The Kinect Better Be Freakin’ Brilliant…

Today at the Amazon.com warehouse, we started shipping the Kinect peripheral for the Xbox 360.

By that I mean, the entire warehouse was thrown into chaos trying to handle the massive number of orders for the Kinect while simultaneously dealing with the daily volume of shit to ship out.

About 90% of the packages I handled today were Kinects, slim Xbox 360s, or Kinects packaged with slim Xbox 360s.

It was a fuckin’ circus if I ever saw one.

Apparently, I haven't seen one.

Things got so crazy in the morning that I was demoted from the cherished and admired position of “shipper” to that of the lowly (and mostly made up) job of “Xbox Thrower.”

While I may have made up the name myself; I assure you, it’s very much self-explanatory.

That being said, if you ordered an Xbox, Kinect, or Xbox with a Kinect; there’s a good chance it may arrive on your doorstep smashed, pissed on, or set on fire; ’cause I tell yah’, I was in one helluva’ hurry, and no force on Earth, managerial or otherwise was gonna’ stop me.

Whoops! Sorry about that!

Anyway, sometime during the “festivities” of “Kinect Day” at Amazon; it occurred to me that despite the hoopla and hype; I personally didn’t feel much excitement about the Kinect.

Sure, I’m a casual gamer at best; and I did just jump ship to the Playstation 3, but as someone fairly in-touch with the gaming world, I felt like I should be feeling at least something about the Kinect.

Truth be told, I really don’t know much about the Kinect.

I know it’s a hands-free motion-control device that can’t track motion from people wearing skirts.

I approve.

 

That’s about it though.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I have exactly 1 friend that owns a Playstation Move.

Pictured: Said Korean. He made this, not me.

Before the release of the Move, I took the time to read an article or 2 here and there, and from what I read, it seemed like a decent idea.

“Decent,” but not great.

Having handled the Move awhile back, I can honestly say that the motion tracking is quite accurate, and left me feeling that the peripheral could indeed be used for some interesting gameplay mechanics.

That still doesn’t make it any more than a “decent” idea for the time being.

Though I really don’t know much about the Kinect, it sounds like more of a lifestyle accessory as opposed to a gaming peripheral.

What I mean to say is, based on the rebranding that Microsoft that been slapping on all of their products in anticipation of Kinect’s release, (18-24 year olds, and green and purple “swooshes,” anyone?) it genuinely seems that their aim is to get people goofing off in front of their TV as part of their daily life, as opposed to getting people to goof around in front of their TV for the purposes of playing videogames.

Now, you too can stand alone in your living room and wave at your TV to update your Facebook! Microsoft, bringing you only most crucial of lifestyle innovations!

It’s a sound idea, and indeed one that appeals to the same broad audience entranced by the mystifyingly simplistic motion-control scheme of the Wii; but personally I just don’t see it working.

Yet…

I can’t speak to the quality of the Kinect’s motion-controls, as my only exposure to it came in the form of watching a bunch of kids in a mall test it out; (the rafting game didn’t work so hot…) but the general feeling I get, is that the technology needs a little more time to grow.

Maybe I’m just being curmudgeony and cynical, but lifestyle altering, gesture-activated living room technology just doesn’t seem to me like something that Microsoft could get “right” on their first swing.

Hell, now that you mention it, this doesn’t sound like the kind of product Microsoft could manufacture without it having a failure rate of, oh; 99%.

Anyway, after chucking around the Kinect all day, I figured I’d post my thoughts, well; actually lack of thoughts, on the Kinect.

Seriously, this thing was so off my radar until today, you don’t even know…

For the record, while I have exactly 1 friend with a Move, I know exactly none that have shown interest in the Kinect.

Must be all the “swooshes”…

SWOOSHES!!!!!!!!

 

Filed under: Games, Uncategorized, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Holy Schnikes! 25,000 Hits!

Quite possibly the finest image I've ever produced...

Greetings true believers!

Yesterday was the first day I invited a guest contributor to post on this blog.

Yesterday was also the first day my blog ever scored more than 450 hits.

Not only that, today the Azn Badger’s blog was fortunate to score over 3,000 hits.

… So am I to understand that my blog’s best days are the one’s in which the Azn Badger let’s someone else do the writing?

Ouch.

… Nah, I’m just Joshin’ yah’, I’m happy as a clam!

Thank you Mencius, for you contribution, and more importantly; your promotional efforts.

The success of this blog would be 3,000 something hits less without you.

Anyway, hope you like my Stallone/Ultimate Warrior mural.

I assure you, it was crafted with pure love.

Oh yeah, and Photoshop…

I’m not about to make any promises for what the future holds for this blog, (I learned my lesson about 15,000 hits ago…) however I will say that a potential podcast is definitely in the works, as well as maybe a stupid homemade action movie or 2!

That being said, thank you for your readership, expect more fun and insanity in the days to come.

Until tomorrow folks!

Excelsior!

Filed under: Boxing, Games, Movies, Uncategorized, Wrestling, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

The Expendables Review

*SPOILER ALERT!* ZERO spoilers ahead in regards to plot details/major events, but most of the match-ups in the fight scenes are revealed below.

If you don’t wanna’ know who’s gonna’ be fighting who, stop reading NOW. *SPOILER ALERT!*

Let it be known, The Expendables is just about the most meat-head centric films I’ve ever seen.

Rest assured, The Expendables is all about suped-up cars, guns, tattoos, armbars, stupid one-liners, and one very gratuitous T&A shot.

Meat-heads of the world unite, the film that shall be your gospel has arrived.

ALL SHALL BOW BEFORE BROCK CHRIST!!!!

Despite my general disdain for the UFC crowd and their, how shall we say, “sensibilities;” I came away from The Expendables feeling pretty good about the whole experience.

The Expendables is, of course; a product of the master of facial paralysis himself, Sylvester Stallone.

Best caricature, EVER.

From what I remember, Stallone pounded out a script for The Expendables almost immediately after his previous film, Rambo; was proven to be a financial success.

The premise of the film is that of the “men on a mission” sub-genre of yore.

Think, The Dirty Dozen, or The Wild Bunch, or if you’re a total pussy; Ocean’s 11 (with guns).

Let me just say, The Wild Bunch is one of the best films I've ever seen.

Basically, the plot boils down to a group of heartless mercenaries being sent on a suicide mission to liberate a fictional South American nation, only to discover, through the beauty and courage of a lady freedom fighter; that they do in fact give a shit about something in this world besides money.

"You not EXPENDABLE Rambo!"

While this describes the plot for just about every film in the genre, the one major difference between Stallone’s version and the rest is, of course; the fact that the “heartless mercenaries” in his version, are all played by noteworthy “faces” of action cinema, past and present.

In case you’ve been living under a rock for some time, Jason Statham, Jet Li, Dolph Lundgren, Mickey Rourke, Terry Crews, and (unfortunately) Randy Couture all star alongside Sylvester Stallone to make up The Expendables.

"You got your peanut butter in my chocolate! Oh wait, this is a good thing..."

Not only that, but Eric Roberts, “Stone Cold” Steve Austin, and even former opponent of Jackie Chan, Gary Daniels; serve to round out the film’s cast of formidable villains.

That's right, THAT Gary Daniels...

Oh yeah, and Bruce Willis, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and the twin MMA Nogueira brothers, Antonio Rodrigo and Antonio Rogerio, all make single scene cameos.

On paper, this would make The Expendables just about the greatest action film ever conceived, right?


Just take a look at Stallone’s own Tango and Cash.

If only it had been a live-action adaptation of Lucky and Wild... Look it up, it's a sweet ass arcade game.

Sure, that movie had Stallone, and Kurt Russell AND Jack Palance to boot, but that doesn’t mean it was even remotely good.

No, The Expendables is not the greatest action movie ever, nor will it remembered alongside any of the true greats of the genre, but that doesn’t make it a bad movie.

On the contrary, I felt it was quite good for what it was.

While the script is utter crap, with most of the one-liners coming across as strained and almost painfully weak, like any good action movie the script is secondary to the action.


Thankfully much of the dialogue in the film is brief, although sometimes the “man speak” quotient can seem a bit overwhelming at times.

Seriously, everyone in the cast of this film make this guy seem straight-up femme:

Anyway, we’ve established that The Expendables, a dumb action movie; has a shitty plot and script.

It’s probably about time I got to talking about something we didn’t know, right?

Let’s talk about how The Expendables fared on the action front.

The action in The Expendables is quite good by modern standards.

It’s violent, chaotic, and often over-the-top, and after the awesomeness that was Rambo just 2 years ago, it’s just about everything I was hoping for in an American action film.

The gunplay is especially over-the-top, with terrific sound editing, and a wonderful sense of “oomph” that is rare among action films.

Trust me, from the first time someone is shot in this film, you know just what kind of movie you’ve gotten yourself into.

Kind of like saying, "From the moment Swayze layed down on the floor and stared longingly at Jennifer Grey, you KNEW what kind of movie you'd gotten yourself into."

Oh yeah, despite it being less brutal and gory than Rambo, the violence level is right up there in Steven Seagal territory in terms of blood-letting.

It should be noted however, that virtually all of the bullet hits are done, not with squibs, but through digital effects.

While this saddened me to some extent, as I figured that if anyone was going to do things “old-school,” it would be Stallone, admittedly it doesn’t do much to effect ones’ overall enjoyment of the film.

Yup, that's violent!

The cinematography in The Expendables is vaguely Greengrass/Bourne-esque throughout i.e. lots of intentional camera jitter, rapid-fire edits, and shakily framed shots, though personally I didn’t have a problem with this.

Bear in mind, I’ve been watching dumb action flicks from the cradle and on, so MTV style editing, and, well, MTV style camera work are nothing new to me.

I think a lot of my non-issue with the cinematography in The Expendables, stems from the fact that I’ve not just been watching action movies my whole life, but boxing, and kung fu movies.

My eyes are trained son, ain’t no tricks out there my eyes can’t see…

It's in the middle, dumbass...

I will say this though, the cinematography in all of the vehicle-based action sequences in The Expendables, is fucking atrocious, and downright frustrating to follow.

Outside of that though, my eyes are trained son…

While I hate to make such a big deal about this one point, I encountered several reviews, including one by a vlogger I happen to trust and admire, Noah Antwiler AKA Spoony, that took offense to the cinematography in this film, so I figure this particular argument deserves some special attention.

Google "special attention," and this is what you get: Red Panda cuteness...

The Expendables is a typical American military action flick.

While there are in fact a handful of protracted brawls between major players in the cast, (which we will get to in a minute) the vast majority of the action in the film is choreographed in such a way that death is dealt swiftly and often.

That is to say, there is not a whole lot of depth or drama to the choreography of the action, both armed and unarmed in The Expendables.

In fact, most of the shots of violence in the film are arranged in such a way that we really aren’t shown a whole of the detail in the various battles that are taking place, but rather just the deathblows in each engagement/exchange.

A movie where every hit is a fatality? Works for me...

Think of it as taking a highlight reel approach to editing a number of fight/action scenes together as opposed to putting a premium on drama or continuity.

The Expendables is a film that often has several skirmishes happening parallel to one another, a fact that necessitates overlap between most of the action in terms of editing, resulting in a film that simply cannot stop to do the proper dramatic justice to any one of said action set-pieces.

While I generally disapprove of editing multiple action scenes together, (see Cradle 2 the Grave and virtually every Michael Bay film ever made) I found the last 30 minutes of The Expendables to be a fine example of how to implement said technique effectively.

Yes, these 2 things go together like Jet Li and DMX. Oh wait...

This leads to most of the fights/gunfights seeming fragmented, and somewhat lacking in coherence, given that much of the cast in this film is past their physical prime, do you really think you’d want to see what these guys looked like without the help of the guy in the editing room?

Speaking of which, let’s take a moment to talk about the fighting element of The Expendables.

The Expendables had a number fight scenes in it, most notably Dolph Lundgren vs. Jet Li, Jason Statham and Jet Li vs. Gary Daniels, Stone Cold vs. Sylvester Stallone, and finally, Stone Cold vs. Randy Couture.

In order, here are my thoughts:

Dolph looked surprisingly spry despite his age.

Sure, the fight was edited to shit, and the framing was frustratingly “off” at times, but the sheer novelty of seeing fuckin’ Ivan Drago go toe-to-toe with Jet Li was enough to keep me engaged.

Dolph employed a fairly linear boxing/kickboxing fighting style of sorts, with most of his punches coming in at straight angles, and more importantly, in bunches.

While the drama of the fight is virtually non-existent, largely due to a few (intentionally) giggle-inducing beats, the scene was good for what it was:

A novelty.

That being said, Jet Li’s performance in the film is rather odd.

Oh wait, this wasn't "odd," this was just "shitty."

His character is legitimately funny throughout, and his physical presence is impressive, but sadly limited.

While industry great, Corey Yuen, is credited as a choreographer for Li’s scenes, sadly the pair isn’t given much screen time to deal with.

Despite this, Jet Li’s performance possesses the grace and flexibility he is known and loved for, though the rapid-edits have the side-effect of obscuring his speed.

Jason Statham’s performance was largely similar to that of Jet Li’s, in that he looked good, but with the “A to C” as opposed to “A, B, C” style of editing, we really couldn’t tell just how good he was.

Oh yes, he's good... NOT GAY.

Having worked with Corey Yuen before, in The Transporter; it’s no surprise that Statham’s movements and execution are pretty much spot on for the demands of his character.

Speaking of “execution,” his character, who displays a penchant for knives in his fighting style, allows Statham ample opportunity to wow with his close-quarters knife work.

Seriously, I haven’t been happy with any of Jason Statham’s performances, physical or otherwise, since the first Transporter movie, but his work in The Expendables, particularly when armed with knives, was downright impressive.

That’s a pretty big fuckin’ compliment coming from me.

ME.

Anyway, Jet Li and Jason Statham’s tandem battle with Gary Daniels was legitimately impressive in a brutal sort of way.

Bear in mind, at this point in the film, (which was easily the highlight of the whole thing for me) Stone Cold vs. Stallone, Gary Daniels vs. The Dudes from The One and War, and Randy Couture hiding behind a bunch of sandbags, are all happening simultaneously.

While it makes me sad to see a talent like Gary Daniels as criminally under-used as he was in The Expendables, I have to admit it was pretty neat to see him be on the receiving end of a martial arts double-team in a military action flick.

The reason I keep emphasizing the word military, is because it implies severity, life and death stakes.

When people fist fight in this movie, it’s not for honor, or glory, it’s simply to make the man standing before them stop breathing and get out of their way.

That being said, Gary Daniels fares about as well as any human would when faced with the prospect of taking on 2 men at once.

That is, unless you’re the Undertaker…

The fight is not so much a fight, as it is brutal beatdown, but like every Steven Seagal fight in existence has taught us, sometimes that’s a good thing.

Moving on, Stone Cold vs. Stallone was probably one of the most glorious “big man” fights I can recall in film history.

Think Matrix vs. Bennett in Commando, or Rowdy Roddy Piper vs. Keith David in They Live, or failing that, Zangief vs. E. Honda in the live-action Street Fighter.

*GASP!* "You remember that!?"

With Stallone being over 60, and Stone Cold turning out truly horrendous fighting performances in The Condemned and Damage, I was expecting a sluggish bar room brawl of sorts, but color me surprised when this unbelievable masterpiece of beefy old-guy fighting cinema came rolling around the corner.

The choreography is sharp, with the punches being swung fiercely and often, and Stallone routinely busting out impressive takedowns, and, in particular; one hell of an agile flying armbar.

Yes, one of these.

In fact, my only gripe with this whole fight, is that, again; most of the drama is lost due to the highlight reel style editing.

More specifically, while Stallone’s takedowns and submission holds are impressive to behold in execution, unfortunately there really is no “why” in regards to his implementation of them.

In Flashpoint, Donnie Yen’s grappling and holds had a purpose in the choreography in that they smothered Collin Chou’s superior offense, and thusly turned the fight in his favor.

This man wouldn't do something simply for the sake of flash. No way...

Stallone’s grappling in The Expendables, is the equivalent to watching Jean-Claude Van Damme do a series of his famed slow-motion aerial kicks.

There’s really no practicality to it in the context of the fight, it’s just flash for the sake of flash.

Or in this case, Butt for the sake of Butt...

While it’s a minor gripe, seeing as this has already spiraled into a much more technical and in-depth review than I was initially expecting, I figured I should bring it up.

In one scene, Stallone managed to defy Father Time, and Stone Cold made a believer out of me in regards to his career as an action movie guy.

Which brings us to the last major sequence of manly fisticuffs in The Expendables, MMA legend Randy Couture vs. modern WWF legend, “Stone Cold” Steve Austin.

I’ll just say this:

This fight was made for UFC and wrestling fanboys, and no one else.

First search for "UFC fan," and I got just what I wanted. Thanks internet.

After the terrific spectacle that was, well, pretty much every other fight in this movie, it brought a tear to my eye to see the final brawl in the movie be such a let down.

Randy Couture should not be in movies.

More specifically, Randy Couture should not be in this movie.

Seriously, I’m not even hating on the UFC stuff right now.

I'm not. I swear...

Randy Couture, and more importantly, Randy Couture’s character, could have, and should have been excised from the script, as neither has much of anything to offer.

Regardless, Randy Couture, though a nice guy, and a terrific athlete, is a truly terrible actor, and barely adequate screen-fighter.

Throughout the movie we bear witness to Couture body-slamming and, well, fiercely body-slamming bad guys, sometimes with a mean expression on his face, usually without.

Pictured: Randy Couture's "mean face."

To say that the choreography given to Couture in this movie is limited is like saying Hulk Hogan’s repertoire of wrestling moves was limited.

It’s an indisputable fact.

That was 1 of 3 moves Hulk Hogan possessed over the years.

Personally, I preferred seeing Couture body-slamming people as opposed to, well, just about anything else he did in the movie.

Especially speaking.

Anyway, I don’t want to go into the details of Couture vs. Stone Cold, but I will say this:

It’s not half as good as Stallone’s fight, and Randy Couture is as stiff as mother fuckin’ Frankenstein.

And I'm not talkin' the Bobby D Frankenstein either...

Alright, well I’m officially spent.

I’ve honestly got more to say, but I’m starting to fade, so I think I’m gonna’ try to call it quits for tonight.

The Expendables was a good time, if mayhem, testosterone and explosions are what you’re looking for.

It’s not a classic in the making, but it’s definitely fun for what it is.

The script is ass, though Mickey Rourke manages to carve a soul into the film with one gut-wrenching scene of apparently improv-ed ACTING.

The gunplay is tops, with comparisons to Stallone’s own Rambo in terms of entertainment value,”oh shit” factor, and spillage of bodily fluids of the sanguine (look it up, dumbass) variety, being entirely warranted.

The fighting is difficult to follow for some, (not me) but surprisingly rewarding despite the relatively advanced ages of the majority of the performers.

In all, I had fun with The Expendables, and I’m pretty sure that was the point.

Have fun with The Expendables, ’cause if you can’t, then chances are you’re just being a dick and need to lighten up.

End Transmission

Filed under: Boxing, Games, Kung Fu, Movies, Uncategorized, Wrestling, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Dr. Vladimir’s Space Virus

Doctor Vladimir’s Space Virus

by Eric Burmill

Doctor Maximus Vladimir is the top scientist of the United Star Systems and he believes he’s developed a revolutionary new medicine to reduce the body’s physical deterioration in old age. He delivers his serum to a trusted colleague, Colonel Henry Mortok, without the knowledge that the colonel is member of K.I.L.L., a secret order bent on destroying all life in the universe. Mortok modifies the serum into a biological weapon and distributes it across all of the space colonies. Too late Dr. Vladimir realizes that his friend has used his discovery to unleash a deadly plague across the galaxy. Now it’s up to our hero to battle the secret order, confront his former friend, find a cure to save the billions of lives at stake, and clear his good name before he and the rest of the human race are erased from existence.

(Story Concept and Image used with the consent of Jeffrey Dong)

The above is part of an art exchange project between myself and a good friend of mine, Jeff Dong.

The idea came up while we were at Barnes & Noble rooting through the Sci-Fi/Fantasy novel section, intentionally looking for the dumbest and most ridiculous cover arts we could find.

And the winner for most awesome book cover EVER goes to...

Jeff Dong came up with the neat idea of challenging ourselves to come up with fake concepts for books that would go well with retarded cover art.

Basically, we were to exchange intentionally retarded Sci-Fi/Fantasy novel ideas, and then produce Photoshop renditions of the cover art for said stories.

The above example is my interpretation of Jeff Dong’s story idea.

Even though it took me more than a month to actually sit down and do this project, (largely on account of me having to write this damn blog!) I have to admit that I genuinely had fun with it.

Even though it’s cheesy, and definitely retarded, I also have to say that I am also somewhat proud of my work on this image.

Anyway, needed a break from writing, so instead I decided to treat myself to a day of flexing my artistic creativity.

Pictured: My "Artistic Creativity"

Hope you enjoyed, be on the lookout for Jeff Dong’s cover image for my story, it’s a hoot!

Filed under: Uncategorized, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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