There is nothing more magical in Hollywood than cross media marketing, there is nothing more buzz producing than casting against type, and there is nothing more shocking than a Disney Princess who has turned to evil.  Meeting the Uber Villain for Star Wars 7, 8, and 9:

Emperor Selena Gomez

Is it possible that Justin Bieber will be Darth Insidious?  This would also open the doors to an All Singing, All Dancing Star Wars Musical!

She’s already been a wizard, right?

What would the songs be for a Gomez / Bieber Star Wars musical?  I’m not very conversant about these two.

(pictures through the brilliance of crayonscanmelton.us)

I didn’t even know the term “Catholic Guilt” until college.

True, I wasn’t Catholic (though I was Lutheran…almost the same thing), but I had Catholic family members, and none of them had ever shared the news of the Secret Existence of Catholic Guilt.  Even after hearing it defined by bitter, secular, ex-Catholic professors, it always seemed a vague concept to my free and easy Lutheran mind.  I determined that Catholic Guilt must have been Thesis #57 in the 95 Theses that Martin Luther nailed to the church door at Wittenberg back in 1517, so I didn’t need to worry about it.

Now it seems I was wrong.  I have guilt I didn’t even know about.

Apparently, there must have been a recent encyclical in which the Pope decried the Sinfulness of a High Fiber Diet  (For you church historians, this would be entirely separate from the Diet of Worms)

I know this because my Fiber One cereal declared to me this morning:

Finally! Guilt Free High Fiber Deliciousness!

Now I feel guilty about my past Sinful High Fiber Diet.  I didn’t even know it was wrong.  I never repented of the Guilty High Fiber Deliciousness of my past.  Until now.

Thankfully, Hungry Girl showed me the error of my ways.

What’s the proper penance for the Guilty High Fiber Diet?  I’m new at this.

I never really thought of Liam Neeson and Nicholas Cage as twins separated at birth, but now I’m not so sure.

Here’s the deal:  A few years ago, Neeson graduated from being the Go To Guy To Play Wise, Chilled Out, Powerful Iconic Characters (Aslan, Qui-Gon, Zeus) to being the Guy Who Grimaces, Grumbles, Punches, and Kills. I’m pretty sure that he punched an entire wolf pack to death in The Grey.

It is also the case that Nicholas Cage’s career has evolved from his I Get Nominated for Oscars era to his Ubiquitous Action Hero era, a transition brilliantly documented over at the The Greatest Blog of All Time.  (But don’t go there until you finish my post)

The problem is that Mel Gibson is out of the Everyman Driven To Do What It Takes To Right The Wrongs business these days, so somebody had to take over.

Enter 2008′s Taken, in which Neeson plays Bryan Mills, a guy who has to rescue his daughter from kidnappers, so he punches people, kills people, tortures bad guys, threatens a bad guy’s family, kills some more people, and then punches somebody.  Oh, and he rescues his daughter.

Now Taken 2 is on its way.  The title is amazing.  Taken 2.

But then again, what were the other options?

Really Taken

Taken to the Cleaners

Taken Candy From a Baby

I guess they did alright on the name after all, and it’s way better than the Left Behind Trilogy:  Left Behind, Left Way Behind, and So Left Behind You Wouldn’t Believe How Left Behind.

So what’s the difference between Taken and Taken 2?

Continue Reading…

It’s still hot.  It’s still a drought.  Our local fire department is smart, so they posted this “Hey dummy!” notice in front of the firehouse for the people who aren’t so smart:

Apparently, our local gas company, which has a small tank farm directly behind the firehouse, didn’t get the memo:

Yeah, it’s a blazing case of irony.  Is that a “firony”?

I’ve lived in this town most of my life, and I’ve NEVER seen them light flames at the tank farm.  I guess they’ve been waiting for a dare from the fire department.

While I love irony, I was kind of concerned that irony might blow up and kill me as I drove by, or that irony might at least cause a forest fire.

Thankfully, irony behaved itself for the day, and the next day, the fire department took down its “Hey dummy!” safety notice.

It’s been said that you can’t fight City Hall, but really, you can’t fight the gas company.

Yes, I lived through the 80s.

Yes, I wore argyle socks.

Yes, I enjoyed Michael W. Smith’s 2nd album when it came out in 1984, even though it looked like this:

But, NO, I didn’t want a sweater like that, not then, not now. Argyle is acceptable on socks, it’s totally awesome when it’s the name of a gnarly character in Braveheart, Uncle Argyle:

But argyle was not intended to be worn above the socks by men over the age of 5. I think I was made to wear a wool argyle sweater when I was 5 for a picture. The only thing I remember about it was that I thought it was horribly itchy and irritating.

The itch from that sweater subsided long ago, but the irritation of argyle remains.

Argyle has crept into our nation’s collective consciousness. It strikes without warning. I went looking for a sweater today, so I checked out a nice, safe place for a man to shop…Lands’ End.

This is what I found:

Note that the model’s would-be manly nonchalance is overwhelmed by the silk argyle sweater vest. That’s right, it isn’t just argyle, it’s also silk.

Continue Reading…

Saw this on the back of a mini van at the pet food store the other day:

Well intentioned dog sentiment

OK, am I the only one, or is there something unnatural about connecting “laughter” and a dog’s hind end?  I mean, I get what they mean, but there are other things that happen in close proximity to dogs’ tails that don’t make me think of laughter at all.

Can I get an affirmative “woof”?