Tron: Legacy

Tron: Legacy - is the plot about a Tron no longer supported by the manufacturer and no drivers for Windows 7? #geek #tron #dejavu

- @goochonline Twitter, December 2010

Tron: Legacy is a movie where Jeff Bridges reprises his role as Jeffrey Lebowski (complete with beard and bathrobe) to reprise his role as Kevin Flynn [ideologically, Linus Torvalds] from 1982's Tron. In 1989, Flynn has been frequently going back and forth between the real world and the computer world working with his program, Clu, who looks exactly like the character Terry Brogan in "Against All Odds." One day, Clu gets corrupted and before Flynn can run chkdsk /r, he gets trapped inside the computer and helplessly observes Clu commit genocide on a bunch of useless free programs (which I wish Android Market would do occassionally).

In 2010, Flynn's son unwittingly gets sucked into the computer world after Alan Bradley, Flynn's friend and creator of Tron (but we'll get to that later) receives a page from Flynn's Arcade on the last activated pager on planet Earth (my house doesn't have a land line, but an arcade that's been shuttered for 20 years apparently does). Instead of calling the number back,  Bradley visits Flynn's son at his standalone garage apartment and suggests that he, not him visit the arcade instead. He finds his way to his Dad's secret computer lab and sits in a seat directly in line with a gun that can import you into the computer at the touch of a button (the one time that UAC would actually have been a nice feature). You'd think that after his incident in 1982's Tron, Flynn would aim that thing away from the office chair, but anyways.

Wait wait wait... In 1994 it took me 30 seconds to scan a full 8.5X11 document and Flynn's got a device from 1982 that can import a full grown adult male? Crazy.

After entering a bunch of UNIX commands (he doesn't work or go to school, and he hasn't seen his computer wiz Dad in 20 years, but he's wildly skilled at UNIX and has intense views, yet misses the point, on the Open Source movement)Son of Flynn immediately gets into arena type Discs of Tron battles with who later turns out to be the Tron who has turned to the computer version of the Dark Side. In nearly 30 years, Tron has beccome very adept at parkour. So for 20 years, Flynn Lebowski has been living in a post modern apartment with a hot piece of ass named Quorra (Olivia Wilde) who was probably bummed out to be inevitably cockblocked by his son. Sam sort of figures out a way to get himself, Dad, and Quorra out of the computer world into the real world which was supposed to be impossible, then it became possible, then they make it to the portal to the outside world but then get portal blocked by Clu (again, played by 1985 Jeff Bridges). In the end, Sam and Quorra literally ride off into the sunrise.

Once again, Tron is the name of a character that has little to do with the plot of the movie. I mean, in this movie, it's almost as if they forgot to include Tron at all, so they made the henchman (very Darth Maul type character) Tron and he doesn't do too much to move the plot along until the end.

Geek:out.

 

I Hate the Black Eyed Peas.

Remember the episode of Seinfeld where Jerry's dating a girl that only looks really good under specific lighting conditions? That's what Fergie is. I find her hideous in that Diet Dr. Pepper commercial and I totally understand why Josh Duhamel would cheat on her. In fact, in the world of celebrity infidelity, I never heard anyone ask (upon reports that Duhamel banged a stripper or 400) "why would he cheat on her?"

Not that she's that ugly, I mean her face is buttery but you can drink that away. Why I can't stand her is that she is absolutely the most celebrated yet untalented hack of a musician in the history of pop music. Black Eyed Peas are an abomination in an abomination of an industry.

You can say that pop music has always been like that, but it's gotten worse in the last few years. Remember how everyone made a stink that Vanilla Ice sampled the bass line from Bowie/Queen's "Under Pressure?" He was made fun of on SNL the night he was a guest. And yet some 20 years later, it's become okay to perform a song during the half time of the Super Bowl that consists of BEP chanting and rapping poorly over Dick Dale's "Misirlou." I mean this song shouldn't have even been conceived, much less recorded. At best, it should have been a hidden bonus track or some shit. But fuck no... it's a hit. And no one complains. No one points out that it's just them grunting and screaming nonsense over the song they probably hadn't heard until Pulp Fiction came out. No one points out that another of their latest "hits" is a lot of Fergie singing a song from Dirty Dancing. They don't even sample obscure shit. When are they going to sample from the Grease Soundtrack? I don't think you can call it sampling. It's called ripping other songs the fuck off. You can tell when will.i.am produces a single for BEP or another artist because the only catchy thing about the song is what was catchy on the song from which he stole it.

Keep in mind that Fergie has the vocal talent of a dive bar karaoke singer. Keep in mind that will.i.am is a fucking rip off artist (he ripped off The Buggles for Nicki Minaj and Iron Butterfly for Nas(?)). What exactly the fuck do the other two guys do? One of them had the audacity to write a book. I'm assuming the foreword will be written by will.i.am and be something he copied and pasted from a book he read on his Kindle.

Black Eyed Peas: I hate them. For them to make money from a song like "Pump It..." for them to perform weak raps over a mostly unaltered song recorded in the 60s... How is it any different than if I pissed on a Picasso and told everyone I was a gifted painter?

I got a feeling... indeed.

At the 11:11...

And what's up with Egypt?

A couple friends of mine spent some time in Egypt about a month ago. Of course, their friends joke about how they might have caused the uprising and mayhem occurring today. Last night, as I was falling asleep, I envisioned some sort of Seinfeld episode. An entire scene played out:

[Jerry Seinfeld is sitting behind the driver on a tour bus in Egypt. Jerry sticks his head over driver's shoulder, into view of camera, and starts talking]

"A dictatorship? Really? I can't believe the lack of democracy! I would think after 30 years, you people would do something about this."

[Jerry sits back into his seat, out of focus. Bus driver's eyes get wide and he grips the steering wheel tightly while grinning menacingly]

[screen goes black, text reads "One Month Later."

[camera shot close up of television showing news footage of riots. Cut to George Costanza and Jerry Seinfeld on couch, eyes bulging (in the world of Seinfeld, they always somehow know when what they've done has fucked things up... even across the globe)]

George: "What did you do?"

Jerry: "I just... I just mentioned to a bus driver that they seemed oppressed... that... they have a lack of democracy!"

George: "Well, are you happy now? You caused a coup."

Jerry: "A coup? I did not cause a coup."

George: "You caused a coup."

Jerry: "It's a crazy coup."

George: "A cuckoo coup?"

Jerry: "A cuckoo coup, indeed."

...and then I fell asleep. Seems like a lot of work for the payoff of "cuckoo coup," but that's the kind of shit I drop at the 11:11.

goochout.

New Year's Revolution

Kacey Montoya, from KOIN Local 6: Lack of Coverage You Can Count On.




Last night I spent about 10 minutes wondering about where I spent $7,50, as the cash account total on my Quicken personal finance software belied the contents of my wallet by that amount.

This is 2011, the year following one in which I fudged company accounting (fudged as in the sense of "best guess") and marvelled at the inexplicably large checks I was writing myself for some inexplicable reason. Now, I keep track of everything like a good (and by "good," I mean "one with a pulse") business owner should. I'm almost obsessive about it now, but that's the nature of me: I either go 100% or 0%. This is not a good thing in a world where moderation seems to be the only way to live.

Sure, I've even drank a couple of times this year so far. Both times were designated driven and were for special occassions. Granted, I can take any occassion and make it special enough to drink, but this is a good start.

As recently as a few days ago, I realized how fucking fat I am. No one wants to be fat. They do want to be happy with themselves. I think what a lot of people do is justify their weight in myriad ways: I'm on a diet now, I'm big boned. It's genetic, I'm Kirstie Alley. Mine was that people accepted me as if I was thin. I don't think that's 100% the case now. This is a good thing, as if I suddenly feel exposed and have been shocked into doing something about it. This justification works with everything, now that I've given it more thought (read: any) than what these free-write posts usually involve. Drunks and drug addicts feel since they have a job or take care of their kids when they have them or some shit that their booze induced benders don't really affect their lives.

What the fuck is going on in Egypt? I have an explanation that I'll post at the 11:11.

Salaam,

goochout.

Like a Virgin...

I drank last night. First time in six months. My first drink? Shot of Hornitos.

With a lime.

People I was with, at a friend's birthday party, welcomed me back.

My heart is beating irregularly and I fainted this morning after washing my hands in the bathroom. I have a ground up knuckle and a bit of a fat lip, but otherwise remarkably unscathed. Is this disorientation and fleeting loss of consciousness and arrhythmic heart a result of drinking last night? Who knows. I just don't remember hangovers feeling like this.

Funny thing, I had Taco Bell this morning and my friend had brought "verde sauce." I had no idea that Taco Bell had introduced a new sauce and realized that I had not consumed Taco Bell since I stopped drinking. Booze, sex, and Taco Bell are more intertwined and embedded in my life than previously thought.

I'm going to lie back down.

Cheers.

goochout.

I'm dumb

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Tweet that didn't make it...

If I took three of my friends out for imitation Vietnamese soup, would I call the restaurant ahead and say "Four for faux pho'?"

I didn't post it because it served no purpose other than to make me smile. Which it did. And now I feel stupid.

goochout