Max-stravaganza

If you get it, read a book.

If Michael Moore has taught me anything (*pause for laughter*), it's that we as a society need to start asking tough questions about our leaders and idols. We have to stop blindly accepting orders and free ourselves from the shackles of the dominant culture. Having said that: What the hell has Wedge Antilles ever done to earn our faith and trust? The Wedge Factor: When an unimpressive supporting character receives a dedicated fan following for no reason; typically a character that receives so little screen time that the audience fills in the blanks with awesomeness. It's a concept similar to the Worf Effect , but I think that the Wedge Factor is a bit deeper (sidebar: I was tempted to dub it the Illegal Wedge , but that was taken). If you ask anyone about their favorite peripheral characters from Star Wars, Wedge Antilles will undoubtedly come up. IGN ranked him the 24th greatest Star Wars character of all time . He is a bold fighter pilot, a valiant solider and skilled i...

To say goodbye is to die a little. -Raymond Chandler, "The Long Goodbye" ********** I recently got representation as a writer. This means that I now have to "work" and "generate new ideas" as opposed to sitting around on my ass, dreaming about putting things down on paper. I celebrated my signing by dropping a good chunk of change in the "Young Professional Douchebag" (YUPDIE) section of Urban Outfitters. I bought plenty of flannel, a book about how to make 100 different sorts of martinis, and a turntable so I can invite people back to my loft and listen to old Bryan Ferry records. And on Friday, I said goodbye to my unpaid internship. It was sad. I felt like I should commemorate it with Cheers' "We're Closed" final line, or saying Goodnight Moon to every room that I had spent time in. "Goodnight copier. Goodnight movie projector. Goodnight beleaguered assistant to egomaniacal director." ...

Oscars are this weekend, and unfortunately The King's Speech is going to win Best Picture; mainly since David Fincher alienates Academy members much like Mark Zuckerberg alienates everyone. Then you've got Mr. Darcy , who's going to win an Academy Award for doing his best Simple Jack impression. If Jesse Eisenberg stuttered during Social Network, it's because he can't keep up with Aaron Sorkin's banter, not because he's trying to exaggerate historical inaccuracies for the sake of Oscar gold . The Social Network was by far my favorite movie of the year, possibly decade (depending on whether the decade starts with year one or zero. Jack Black and Michael Cera say that it's year one, so I'm going to trust them on this.) I left the theater bruised and battered. I couldn't tell what I felt. Firstly, it's a fantastic movie. Secondably, I was demoralized since I a) didn't go to Harvard, b) come from money or c) am not good at math, whic...

I know that I'm late to the party, but I'm thoroughly tired of Twitter (and I'm also late to the party on using the phrase "late to the party"). Apart from giving us 24/7 insights into the buying habits of our congressional leaders , it reinforces the misconception that every one of our random thoughts is worth broadcasting (note: but keep reading my blog). People often ask me why I don't have an account. It's rather simple. My Twitter feed, like my tell all biography and sex tape, is raunchy, poignant and full of angry language towards the female cast of Glee, but it won't be relevant until I'm famous. No one wants to hear the banal rants and ramblings of a nobody (sidenote: but keep reading my blog). A co-worker responded, "But being on Twitter is how you become famous." Not for the right reasons. Twitter is the online version of the E! Network or Bravo. What kills me is when people talk about their tweets. Verbally retweet...

"The perfect match, if you ask me, is between the Cosmo woman and the fourteen-year old boy." - Nick Hornby, High Fidelity ********* Call it desperation, call it loneliness, call it pre-Valentine's malaise, but I finally decided to bite the bullet and sign up for online dating. Everyone I know under the age of thirty has joined for one of two reasons: 1) they lost a drinking game-related wager, or 2) "Everyone else does it and it seems like fun." I'm sorry, kids that got tricked into painting a fence, but it is the exact opposite of fun. Do you know what online dating is good for? Horror stories that you tell on dates that weren't arranged via the internet. It's a conversation that has been had many times, and it goes a little something a-like this: MAN : I'm so glad we met. I was having some really bad luck on eHarmony. WOMAN : Oh, me too! There was this one guy who would only talk about the plight of Malaysian lemurs. MAN : Ha ha! You sho...

There are two struggles in practicing yoga. The first is the actual class. The second is the perpetual, losing battle of attempting to explain to outsiders just how strenuous 90 minutes of stretching can be. Because to most, yoga is the athletic equivalent of cranberry juice; good on occasion, but normally reserved for women on their periods. Stretching and standing, holding your own body weight, keeping your arms in the air, deep breathing. Doesn't seem that difficult. Three year olds can do it. Let me tell you, when done correctly, it feels like your soul was sucked out through your pores . Some alleged "restorative" poses are tantamount to having your hips wrung through a medieval torture device...and you're doing it to yourself. But Yoga isn't just for spiritual masochists and flexible deviants. There is another contingent who accepts Yoga as a strenuous exercise. A group that prides themselves on good posture...and firmed glamour muscles . ...

As an alternately underpaid/unpaid Hollywood intern, you always have to fake that you're "just lucky to have the experience." You're "thankful to be working with such great people" and "truly blessed to be learning so much." It's institutionalized bullshit, insisting that the emasculating experience is more important than full time employment. But recently, I have been genuinely lucky to be working with one particular individual...as from my office/copy room, I now have a front row seat for their slow, devastating, full-on Travis Bickle descent into insanity. I'm not going to say who this person is. Everyone in Hollywood knows everyone else. But it's someone I either work for or with. Man or woman. Executive or artist. Director or designer. I'm not saying. I plead the fif . Over the past month, this individual has slowly lost his or her grasp on reality. Symptoms include: Seeing things that aren't there. Gross paranoia. An eve...

As 2010 came to a close, it was a time for mass reminiscing, nostalgia and saccharine year end best of lists (who, for the most part, are always composed of the same 9 movies with the exception with one sly declaration of youth sandwiched in a list of safe classics). For young adults of a certain age, it meant that we had to take a second ride on the nostalgia express. Five years had passed since graduation, so it was high time that the high school development office bug us for money under the auspicious guise of a "reunion." The five year high school reunion. Not much has changed, except that now we were legally drinking on campus as opposed to sneaking off to the bathroom to take a pull off a bottle of generic vodka. Now, I hate to generalize or make blanket statements, but there is absolutely no reason to have a five year reunion. Unless, of course, it were to take place more than five years from graduation (e.g. when people actually have something to say about their li...

My parents' basement, 1 AM Dear assorted nerds, competitive statisticians, former high school athletes, Monday morning quarterbacks, disillusioned 9 to 5 corporate schlubs, ESPN interns, middle management suits, fanboys, compulsive gamblers, or as you are collectively known, Fantasy Football Owners- It's 1 AM and it might be the Five Hour Energy that I chugged four hours ago, but I believe that I have something to say. We're at the tail end of the season within the season, the post-season before the post-season: Fantasy Football Playoffs. The past thirteen weeks of draft strategy and passive aggressive waiver claims have paid off for a select few. Although the NFL players might think they are competing for their own postseason spot, they are actually fighting for bragging rights. Although the Carolina Panthers are hoping for the #1 pick in the 2011 draft, there are plenty of owners praying that Jonathan Stewart hits the 100 yard mark this Sunday. I was brought into Fant...

"Everybody needs a villain." - Kanye West ********** The Expendables is now on DVD (note: use the Amazon link at the bottom of this page to buy the movie, and you'll have bought one kick ass action movie). Stallone has said that he's planning to return to the franchise in coming years. Names that have been thrown around for the next group of action heroes with HGH assisted muscles and guns that never seem to run out of ammo. Rumored names include (in decreasing awesomeness): Dwayne "The Tooth Fairy" Johnson, Jean Claude Van Damme, Kurt Russell, Carl Weathers, Danny Trejo, the Old Spice guy, Steven Seagal, and Brian Bosworth. But that would be rehashing the original. What Stallone needs to do is up the ante. Make the Expendables 2 into a film that joins The Godfather Part II and Wayne's World 2 as sequels that surpass the original. What we need is the ultimate team of action movie villains. The Legion of Doom to the Expendables'...

What fresh hell is it where The Office and Glee decide to cross-promote in order to create a perfect storm of overrated, emperor's new clothes television? Y ou combine two overhyped shows with limited range and undeserved fan frenzy in a move tantamount to when Lex Luthor and Brainiac would pool their resources and team up against Superman. I suppose it could be worse: they could have thrown in Rubicon, a show that apparently I'm "not intelligent enough to appreciate," but thankfully AMC saw the light, pulled the plug and promised to give us more meth-synthesizing chemistry teachers and Zombies. Either way, I'm getting away from the thesis statement of this five paragraph essay: Glee must die and the soil of musical television will be salted by a latter day, media savvy version of William Tecumseh Sherman. I decided to watch Glee last week since GQ told me that most of the actresses were sluts, and that's a big prerequisite for any television program tha...

Song stuck in my head for the day: "Read My Mind" - The Killers. ******* There was a recent article about how incoming college freshmen grew up in a completely different world than even recent college graduates. Examples include knowing Fergie as a pop singer rather than the Duchess of York, they don't remember the Cold War, and they don't use wristwatches. Trying to add to the list, I figured that when they hear the words "Paul is dead," they think that someone recently died, as opposed to playing the White Album backwards. In my strange, tangential, wikipedian mindset, this got me thinking about that great conspiracy theory. Honestly, it's worth wasting a few minutes looking into the clues on the cover of Abbey Road or mishearing lyrics to All You Need is Love. I wondered why our poor, deprived generation didn't have a similar urban legend. Where is our "Who shot JFK?" or "Did man really walk on the moon?" Sure, you hav...

The Hair Product Strength Coefficient The stronger the hold on your hair gel, the greater the chance that when it dries it will look like you have semen in your hair.

With the advent of user generated web content, the Internet is supposed to conform to my own needs. Either I don't make a good first impression or the Internet could seriously use a refresher course. I dislike most of the people that Facebook suggests I add as friends (I'm looking at you, "angry dude from college" and "quiet girl I never spoke to in high school"). I hate half the music that Pandora recommends (REO Speedwagon on my "AC/DC" channel? Really?) and Hulu tailors some very strange ads "just for me" (Diaper commercials, LensCrafters, HIV prevention tips for gay Samoan men, etc.). And since I'm a straight, contraceptively competent, and continent caucasian with perfect vision, I'm not sure who that one was meant for. So I've been hard pressed to see how Web 2.0.1 has made life easier for society. It's just an outlet to post tons of unnecessary information about yourself (see: here ). And suddenly it hi...