Movie Mashup 5: Eddie Murphy is Everyone in Identity.

A group of strangers find themselves stranded in the middle of a severe rainstorm at a remote motel, run by Norbit Murphy. They are a limo driver; Axel Foley who is also an ex-cop,  Officer Eddie Vampire, who is transporting  a cannibal, Sherman Klump;  Rasputia Murphy; a prostitute, Jiff Ramsey Murphy, a famous Hollywood actor, having notably starred in "Bowfinger" with Steve Martin, and Donkey Murphy, who`s son Mushu Murphy is distraught because Donkey has been hit by Axel's car.

Yes I had a son with my dragon wife. Whats wrong with that?

With both ends of the road completely flooded, the group prepares to spend the night; however, they quickly find there is an unknown murderer present, killing off each of the guests.

One man's quest to play every single role in a blockbuster film

Axel Foley  is working on his car when Officer Eddie Vampire and Sherman Klump , shackled and chained, pull up to the motel in their police oldsmobile.

Axel: Well look at this now, an officer and a half giant.  What you in for big boy? You suck up a bus?

I will quip you to death, then shoot you

Officer Vampire: You got a phone here, the road's blocked out up ahead, and I need to get this prisoner to the Richard Simmons home for the incurably evil and the morbidly obese.

Axel: That sounds serious man, what did he do, eat the rapid rail network?

                                               
                        Officer Vampire found that funny and composes himself before moving on

Officer Vampire: This man is responsible for the eating of 12 families' Christmas Dinners in one night. He went from house to house through the chimney, like some deranged Santa and inhaled helpings of Roast Turkey and Baked Potatoes. The last house he visited however was the scene of horrific criminality. When he was done with Christmas Dinner, he ate the family of Four for Christmas Desert and used  their cat as a wet wipe.

Sherman Klump: I would have gotten away with it too, if the police hadn't followed the trail of fart gas to my apartment.

                                        
                                                      To be fair, he was really hungry

Officer Vampire: Shut up before I cut out your tongue and feed it to you.
Klump: *licks lips at the thought*
Axel : Anyway I just ran over a donkey or some such creature and punctured a tyre. The phones are out, and I'm trying to sort out this car, revive the donkey and just keep shit together generally. I might need some help. There's some other people inside too and they all look strangely familiar to me.

As the group approach the motel, they are greeted by Norbit Murphy, the owner of the motel, has been performing CPR on the somewhat indisposed donkey. It appears though that the Donkey had died some time ago as Axel quickly points out due to the fact that his body was rigid, that no pulse could be felt, and that he was not breathing.
                                             

                                                  I manage to over-act even in death.

A distraught Mushu Murphy has locked himself in a room of the motel. Rasputia Murphy instantly focuses her attention on Officer Vampire.

Rasputia: How you doin' ?You know, they say, the easiest way to a man's heart is through his pants?

Officer Vampire: Actually I prefer going through the belly and under the ribcage. 

Rasputia: ooooooooOOO you nasty. Want to get freaky naughty with me? 

Officer Vampire: What?

Rasputia: Want to land the harpoon, sizzle the steak, grill the bacon? Oh yes I love me some food.

Officer Vampire: My dear we may have eternity for that. I would also need to first find a blindfold.

Rasputia: I see you got a big car. You know,I love cars. when I drive and inhale, my tities make the horn honk

Axel: Look I don't mean  to break you attempt breaking the Guinness world record for the quickest time in making everyone throw up, but we have a body to bury.

                                       
                                                               How YOU Doin'?

After the group bury the body, they move off and settle down in various rooms at the motel, leaving Sherman Klump locked up in Norbit's office . Suddenly a piercing scream is heard, and Axel runs in its direction. He finds Norbit stuffed in a garbage bin, his back broken in several places.
                                               
When Dan Aykroyd offered you the role of Winston Zeddimore, you should have never turned it down.                                                               The man's crazy

The rest of the group arrives and Rasputia goes into hysterics.

Rasputia:Oh my Lawd! He dead! He dead! Bitch be dead! How Imma get my 10 dollars back now. Im gonna search his pockets.

Officer Vampire: You will not interfere with the crime scene.

Jiff Ramsey: Wat chu talking about crime scene? Do you think he was murdered?

Axel: Obviously someone had to have killed Norbit, Do you think he broke his own back?

Jiff Ramsey: Nah I'm not that stupid, his arms couldn't reach to his back anyway.

                                           
                                                  Yes, yes he is that stupid.

Officer Vampire: I bet that fat fuck Sherman Klump had something to do with this.

The group race to find Sherman, but arrive to find he has chewed his way through his handcuffs and has eaten his way through the wall, leaving a Klump sized hole to the outside.



              
                                                                Basically this

Meanwhile Klump runs through the hills away from the motel, looking for a KFC only to be dumbfounded when he finds himself back at the motel. He enters the lobby, where Axel and Officer Vampire jump and beat him into unconsciousness. He falls into a coma thinking of chicken.

                                         
                                                       Heh heh heh. Nice dream


However, Klump is later found dead. Officer Vampire states this could have been due to a big ass heart attack. Axel points out however, due to the large knife hidden under one of Klumps fat-folds, that this was a second murder and that Klump couldn't have been the killer.
                                                    
                                                                     Big Tweest

By this time Rasputia has had enough, she grabs a spade in self-defence and swipes at anything that moves.

                                                        

Axel begins to grow suspicious of the others, especially Officer Vampire, seeing as how he is a goddam vampire.  Mushu Murphy then bursts out his room on hearing from Jiff Ramsey that his father, Donkey, was dead
                                         
                                                      Mushu had his mother's looks

Mushu runs towards one of the petrol stations with Jiff following him closely. As soon as the two are out of sight, the petrol station blows up, presumably incinerating them both (even though one of them was a dragon). The remainder of the group look on in terror. Rasputia runs off screaming random words ("Bitch Bitch Bitch Bitch" most likely). While Axel and Officer Vampire now convinced that each other is the killer.
A massive teeth- bearing gunfight ensues which is represented by the pictures below:
                                       
                                                                 Fuck you


                   
                                                                 No fuck you


                                   
                                                        Bitch Bitch Bitch Bitch


The sparring Eddies come across the body of Rasputia who had miraculously, it seems , committed suicide, drowning herself in a shower.

=========================================================================

We switch scenes to a formal looking setting. It is revealed that Eddie Muphy is a patient at a pyschiatric hospital who suffers from dissociative identity disorder. His doctor, Dr Wong,tells him that he harbors numerous distinct personalities within his mind, one of whom was responsible for a number of gruesome murders for which he has been committed to the hospital. 

                               
                                       Wat you mean you want to see medical deglee?

Wong is able to bring forth one of Eddies personalities, Axel, revealing that the events at the motel are in fact occurring inside Eddie's mind; each personality being represented by one person at the motel. Wong explains that the killings at the motel are Eddie's mental attempts to eliminate excess personalities. Wong further gives Axel the mission of making sure that the hostile personality (i.e., the one responsible for Eddie committing his crimes) is eliminated.

Axel relates the story to Officer Vampire, and Officer Vampire promptly shoots Axel through the head, revealing he was faking being a police officer all along, and was transporting himself and fellow vampire cannibal Sherman Klump away from the police after an escape. 

                                                 
                                                              Two Tweeests!!

As Officer Vampire is packing up his things however, he wonders whether anything Axel had told him was true. He saw that he was the only person left alive at the motel, but he had never committed any of the murders that Axel spoke about. Clearly Axel was nuts, he thinks. At that moment a shadow looms over Officer Vampire as he is decapitated by a razor sharp bulb of garlic! 

                                                 
                    But riddle me this! Who could the person wielding such a dangerous instrument be?

                                               
                                                               Jiff Ramsey!

Jiff Ramsey! Who saw all the other personalities as standing in the way of Eddie Murphy's greatness!
Jiff Ramsey! Who had to eliminate them so that he could star in "Fake Purse Ninjas"
Jiff Ramsey! Who faked his own death to make sure he was the only Eddie left standing!

And Jiff Ramsey controls Eddie Murphy in the real world, goes on to strangle Dr Wong to eliminate evidence, escape the hospital, assumes his twin brother's IDENTITY (looooooool hows that use of words?) and be loved by the masses for making really shitty movies.

                             


The End
RB

How Much Work Should One Be Doing?

One may ask oneself the question, how much work should one be doing?  If one is a prat this may be the way you phrased the question.

My philosophy is that I need the money so I do the work. Some other bright spark has said, for you to be comfortable in your workplace for the next 30 or 40 years, you need to enjoy what you are doing. Can you force yourself to enjoy something you really would rather not be doing. I sat through about half of the second Transformers movie, so, maybe?  I used to go to Church for a bit, so maybe?

Unfortunately, unlike Church or Michael Bay, the work environment is not easily avoidable, and therefore you must adapt to it all, and especially the people. So far I have come across a number of types of people at my work place and I have found them to resemble wild animals to varying degrees. For your further reference and context, imagine a high pressure, corporate work environment. Lots of greywall, the indoor climate mimicking that of the South Pole due to a boss who leaks like a blender without a lid when hot, the sounds of photocopy machines giving birth to their hideous flat pale offspring, deadlines, coffee smells, and general dementia. 

1) Jaded Bee

First we come across the  jaded worker bee, who arrives really late at morning, and leaves  really early in the evening, when he can escape the clutches of the firm. This type is powered by caffeine and multivitamins, and makes frequent smoke, vending machine and bathroom breaks whenever he can. Notice the droopy eyes, the hollow monotone utilized as a response to questions, the minimalist response to the weak jokes made by superiors, the slight hint of drool at the side of the mouth.

The smile is fake, because the eyes are dead

2) Eager Beaver Shitlord

We move offices to the eager beaver, the little shitlord who is keen to help in any way she can. Loved by everyone, she is so super keen to be a part of the firm to please the bosses by sticking her head so far up their collective anus she becomes intimate with the duodenum. However, she does very little actual work herself, most of the work being passed off to underlings, through her innate powers of delegation followed by her incessant "micro-managing". Beware, the shitlord also has a dark side. She will "cut you off at the knees" if you disagree with her. This side never shows when the boss is around though, so just be the guy mentioned in 3) below and you should be safe from her.

I love hairy beaver only sometimes.

3) The Sucker Fish

The guy always in other people's, especially the bosses office, asking the dumbest questions ever known to man. "What should I do with this pen? Once I am done with this pen, is there anything I should do with these files? If these files are open, what well happen if I close them?" The sucker fish deserves to be shot, or placed in stasis until scientists can finally investigate whether shock therapy can make a person grow a brain.

It must be weird to be a shark

4) Over-bearing Boss Dragon

Oh God, this guy. He breathes fire up your butthole. He makes you sweat in places you never thought possible. He's picking on you to make up for all the times he was never asked to play on the school playground. He's picking on you for all the times his mother hit him with a sieve to see if bits of him would powder off. He's picking on you for all the times someone looked at him funny. He's picking on you because he enjoys it. 

Actual picture of me consulting with my boss

5) Loudmouth Frog

"I JUST WANNA SAY THAT YOU ARE WRONG"."I KNOW FROM MY OWN PERSONAL EXPERIENCE, WHICH IS THE ONLY THING THAT ACTUALLY MATTERS, THAT I AM RIGHT AND YOU ARE MISTAKEN". "YOU SEE I NEVER MAKE MISTAKES, IT IS AN IMPOSSIBILITY FOR ME." "YOU ON THE OTHER HAND MADE YOUR FIRST ERROR WHEN YOU CHOSE TO BEGIN A CONVERSATION WITH ME." "I ANNOY EVERYONE I TALK TO BUT I DON'T KNOW IT". "EVEN IF I KNEW IT I DOUBT I WOULD CARE ANYWAY." "BECAUSE WHAT I SAY WILL ENRICH YOU LIFE AND THE LIVES OF YOUR CHILDREN, AND THE LIVES OF THEIR CHILDREN YET TO BE BORN." "I AM LOUDMOUTH FROG."

NOW I HAVE DONE WITH YOU, YOU MAY GO!

6) The Porpoise who pretends to know things, but is just hanging around hoping not to be fired

The most useless person ever. Has no job, plays solitaire on the computer all day, but is kept around mysteriously by management for no apparent purpose. What dirt does this one have on the brass that extends their longevity. No one knows, but it apparently is working. But the day will come when someone finally realizes that this most useless person actually has nothing to do. He has no porpoise, one could say.  

Clearly I am the first person to have ever made that joke.

7) The Snake in Sheep's Clothing

The HR manager says to you, please let me know if anything is troubling you at our firm. anything you say will be kept confidential. You could say that the rooms are far too cold to work in, and what you can be guaranteed will go to the CEO (somehow) is that you wish that his mum contract cancer. 

I wish there was a better picture on the internet.

Well,  these are the revolting animals I have met so far. If you're ever thinking that you may need to find other employment, maybe you do. Certainly if you have critters like these scurrying around maybe a shotgun would also be an option.

Also, try to do as little work as physically possible.

RB

Celebrity Pro Wrestling: Mecha Mandela versus Der Fuhrer Adolf Hitler!

Your Commentators : Jim Ross and Jerry "The King" Lawler

JR: All hell's gonna break loose tonight in this grudge match building up from Battle in the Afterlife.

King : That's right JR, last time these guys met, Der Fuhrer managed to pull off a victory against Mecha Mandela with help from outside. We just heard tonight though that the SS has been barred from assisting Der Fuhrer by the  Chairman, Vince Mcmahon.

This is why I'm Hot 

JR: Its gonna be a Slobberknocker!

Ring Announcer: Introducing First, the challenger! From Qunu, Eastern Cape Province South Africa, MECHAAAAAAAA MANNNNDELLLLLLLAAAAAA!

Sup

Ring Announcer: Annnnd, your Champion, from somewhere in Austria, DERRRRR FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUHRERRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

Wat is zis bullshit?

King: And there's the bell!
JR: The two men starting out cautiously. They both remember what happened a few months back when they pushed themselves to the limit in a tables, ladders and peace accords match. By then end of that match both these warriors weren't even able to lift their beaten bodies up off the floor to sign the peace accord.
King: And now they have locked hands in a test of strength, Mecha Mandela seems to be getting the upper hand over Der Fuhrer.
JR: Oh but what a dirty trick, Der Fuhrer hits a "Heil to the Chief"! Raking Mecha Mandela's eyes and  blinding him for the moment.

It works gut , ya?

King: Mandela calls upon his old boxing skills blindly throwing one two punches, like an angry Stevie Wonder, shots flying wildly from his fists which he himself calls "Truth" and "Reconciliation".

I will forgive you by breaking your face.

JR: Der Fuhrer sneaks out of the ring and grabs a table. Meanwhile Mecha Mandela is recovering from his blindness. Amandlaaaaa! He screams, working up the crowd. But Der Fuhrer, sensing a comeback, blindsides, no pun intended, Mecha Mandela with a 2 x 4. Mecha Mandela is knocked over the top rope and lands awkwardly on the hard concrete.
King:  That's why hes champion JR, he never lets up! And he keeps pounding Mecha Mandela with the 2x4 and the refereee is powerless to stop it.
JR : Look Out, theres Desmond Tutu " the Archbishop" running down the ramp, and I don't think he's coming to partake in Communion.

Don't fuck wit me!

King: The Archbishop flies around the ring like a man possessed, and he flying body drops on top of Der Fuhrer! Oh What a move!
JR: Now he's  chanting  hymns at Mecha Mandela to get up and the crowd joins in. And Mandela sits up! The Crowd goes wild! Mecha Mandela leaps on top of Hitler aiming his elbow at his throat! Yes! His patented move the "Idris Elbow" connecting!

And suddenly he looks years younger

King: Oh but here's more interference, it’s the SS, the current tag team champions, and they're looking to put a hurting on the Archbishop, while Mecha Mandela is busy placing the Full Nelson submission hold on Der Fuhrer. But, the Archbishop fights back, lefts and rights swinging wildly, the priest will not go down. He has the Holy Spirit! And hes gonna put an Almighty smiting on the tag team champions!

You want slap?

King: Meanwhile Mecha Mandela drags Der Fuhrer back into the ring while the Archbishop and the SS fight their way to the back to the locker room. And I've got a feeling this one is almost over JR! I think he's going to finish it, he's going for the Long Drop to Freedom! Mecha Mandela climbs the top rope and yells as he performs the leg drop from the top- 

"MORRRRRGANNNN FREEEEMAAANNN ISSSS A BEEEEEEETTTCHHHH!

JR: DIRECT HIT! And he goes straight for the cover. One, Two, Three. Its over! We have a new World Heavyweight Champion!!!!

Thank you, thank you.

King: All hell broke out here tonight JR, I dont think this feud is over by a long shot, but at least the Dark days of the Reich are over!

I'll get you Mecha Mandela! Soon! And your Rainbow Nation too!

End

RIP Tata
RB

Maniac Depression 4 : The Count of Sesame Street

Enter the offices of the Doctor, therapist to the supernatural, the murderous, and the mildly pissed off.

For Maniac Depression is touching their souls.

The Count: No Doctor. I can assure you this is not going to be like session 1 or session 2 ah ah ah or session 3, session 4, session 5 , ah ah ah, session 6, 7 , 8  or 9 ah ah ah. No because this is session 10, ah ah ah.

Doctor: I will take that as a no. Count, you must try to stop counting so much in your spoken language, it indicates mild Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

And a fear of skeletons, I hate the skeletons and their bony bones!

Count: Are you sure Doctor?

Doctor: Yes (editor’s note- No. I do not have a medical degree. I have a law degree, and might add that if you are a young vampire, don’t use stories on the internet to diagnose any affliction you might have simply because of similar facts, and even if that last victim in the red light district was particularly dodge and looked severely emaciated. I accept no liability for any harm this story may cause to anyone, whether direct or consequential, and whether living, dead or undead.)

I love numbers though!

Count: Very well, I was taught to count numbers at Madam Oozing’s School for Young Vampires. I had a terrible anger problem you see. There would be 1 undead body lying on the ground, then 2 undead bodies then 3 undead bodies, ah ah ah…

Motherfucker!

Doctor: Stop counting, you were saying about the anger…

Count: Yes Doctor, sorry, counting was taught to me by Professor V.T. Impaler. He insisted as a class, we address him by his middle name: “The”. Anyway, he suggested that counting would help me let go of some of my anger, which I always thought was a bit rich coming from a sadist and madman.

Doctor: And now you’re afraid that if you stop counting that you will revert to being a killer.

Count: Yes Doctor, but I was always more than just a mere killer, even in my plasma days, I would rip out human hearts as a cheaper alternative to bubblegum.

Because Up Yours.

Doctor: We are then in the tricky situation of either turning you once again into a psychotic killer or leaving you to be a colossal bore at parties. Personally, I can’t decide which is worse.

Count: Well doctor, I work a lot with young children and on many occasions the counting has helped me avoid ripping them to pieces on national television. Imagine, one second, young Timmy and I building a house of Lego, and in the next me using Timmy’s intestines to make a nice garden fence complete with a shrubbery. I don’t think that would go down too well for our ratings. The Undead Insurance I have could not cover that.

I think everyone would be fine if I got rid of Elmo though

Doctor: Ah yes, who are you covered with again?

Count : UIG- The Undead Insurance Group. Head office in Brooklyn, NY and subsidiaries in Transylvania and the Vatican City.

Doctor: Have you perhaps tried counting in your mind? Not actually speaking the words that is.

The Count: I have doctor, 12 people were eviscerated on that day. 1 bloody corpse, 2 bloody corpses, ah ah ah, 3 bloody corpses, 4 bloody corpses, 5 bloody corpses ah ah ah. 6 bloody corpses ah ah ah , 7 bloody corpses, 8 bloody corpses, 9 bloody corpses, 10 bloody corpses ah ah ah. 11 bloody corpses, 12 bloody corpses, ah ah ah. It doesn’t help at all if I don’t count out loud.

Doctor:  Maybe if you only tried counting up to five rather than over 10, what would happen then? That way instead of being a bore, some people may see this as an eccentric tick that you have.

The Count: I could try that doctor.

Doctor : Let’s try that exercise right now.

The Count : Okay I see 1 bird outside, ah ah ah, 2 birds outside, 3 birds outside, ah ah ah, 4 birds, 5 birds ah ah ah ah.

Doctor: Feel any better?

Count (slaps the doctor open handed leaving a hand print on his face) I’m sorry doctor I couldn't help myself.

Like I couldn't help myself with your mom last night.

Doctor: No worries, at least it’s a start. We’ll continue next week. Reception has a pro forma invoice for the first nine sessions we had. Let me follow you out. *Follows the count to reception.

The Count (looks at his bill and begins shaking with rage).

Doctor: I notice you’re not counting. I will remind you that I have a clove of garlic in my pocket. And a crucifix tattoo on my left buttock. If you wish to see neither, I suggest you start counting now.

The Count: 1 method of torture, 2 method of torture, 3 method of torture…

The Doc: Our time is up. Get out.

RB

The Stand: Not a Review

That famous bard once wrote: “What is love, baby doesn’t hurt me, don’t hurt me, no more”. To him I responded: Spartacus had an identity crisis. My point is clear.

2013 was a really shit year. An “annus horribilis” as Queen Elizabeth said that one time. What are years coming to? They plod and they gallop at the same time. At times I look back and think, I was having fun there, I was smiling, so it must have been fun. Am I having fun now? I don’t know, I could only tell you next year. Its hidden in my funconcious mind.

My annus is horribilis

The following is not a review of the Stand, it just summarizes some thought threads shuffling around in my head after my first read-through.  This will make more sense if you have read The Stand. Also: Spoilers!

I shall reap you with my grim reaping equipment

So, I just finished  “The Stand”- the expanded edition even- and that Stephen King simply put too many words on paper. I enjoyed every minute of it, don’t get me wrong, but like “The Return of the King”, there were ways that it should have ended that would have left me feeling for satisfied in a shorter amount of time. The reference to LOTR is relevant here also because of the main antagonist of the novel.  Randall Flagg as he is depicted in The Stand often takes on the characteristics of a giant orange eye, watching our heroes, plotting and directing his instruments of destruction against Mother Abigail and the citizens of the Free Zone in much the same way as Sauron uses Saruman and his dark forces to counter Gandalf and the armies of middle earth.

I call bullshit.

The basic plot of the novel is that a superflu, “Captain Trips” kills off 99% of the world’s population and the remaining survivors are in dreams and their darkest nightmares called to locate either 109 year old Mother Abigail, God’s agent on earth in Boulder Colorado, or Randall Flagg aka Russell Faraday aka Legion aka Nyarlohotep, the servant of evil in Las Vegas. While Mother Abigail offers nothing much but insight into the ways of God, Flagg immediately sets people to work on establishing a military force to destroy the citizens of the Free Zone. Basically this becomes the “stand” between the forces of “good” and the forces of “evil” and punctuated by the confrontation of the  main forces of good and evil at the end of the novel.

Mother Abigail

Not Mother Abigail

Speaks for itself

This story was centred on locations in America. But I kept thinking about what was going on in other places, what about London, were they all having dreams of being attacked by misaligned dentures? I don’t know. What about South Africa even? If Captain Trips came here, would I be immune to it? Would it be better not to be immune? My point is because generally people suddenly to me seem to strike me as  considerably more stupid than ever , more wrapped up in their stupid lives, more wrapped up in drum and bass than possible genocide in the Central African Republic. I hope that’s not the case, and I don’t know why I feel that way. But seriously, what the fuck is drum and bass?

Somehow I doubt Yoda would approve

And then, even if I was immune, would I head on over to Mother Abigail or to Randall Flagg?  Long story short, the book says that Good triumphs over Evil, but I won’t tell you how. Read the bible possibly if you want a hint. (Alternatively, read The Stand) But assuming I didn’t know that I feel I would pick the place that got the electricity up faster, had warm meals prepared by master chefs and had some sort of law and order from the outset, even if Crucifixion was deemed a method of disposal.

Since this book is about faith, it would be a pretty tough choice to settle in the Free Zone without any assurances that things would get better, apart from the ramblings of a possibly crazy old lady who sometimes shits berries and twigs. But then I also think that once Flagg’s police state got too much for me I probably would want to leave. Whether he would let me is another story, he would probably send out some wolves to chew up my intestines or something. But then would I even want to go to the Free Zone?

Nom nom nom

I ask this because I always pick someone I would like to be in a novel. This time I picked Harold Lauder, a really smart fat boy who has a heavy crush on the lady he sets out with to find Mother Abigail. She can’t stand him, even though he proves adept at survival, while being a pompous, but goodish guy. She together with another character Stu Redman (who I initially thought I would see myself as, but then got tired of) lie to him about their relationship and he finds out and begins to go slightly insane.

Basically Harold

I picked Harold because like him, I am not a social person even though I can be at times. I can't just talk to people, I don’t know why. More clearly, I can speak, I just don’t know how to speak to people. As soon as I get into a conversation, my mind will think up the most perverse thing it has in one of the top shelves of my memory banks, courier it to my mouth, and my mouth, the pet idiot, will blurt it out like a galactic pharmacist dispensing universal truths. No prescription required, if I get hurt, I can deal with it, I have a fictitious medical degree, he thinks. Bloody fool.

The Red Ones are to be taken Penally.

Anyway Harold is manipulated and encouraged by Flagg, and the pressure cooker in his mind heats and heats until he snaps eventually and blows up a meeting of the Free Zone Committee- 7 elected officials running the Free Zone, killing two of them. He is later killed in an accident manipulated by Flagg as he escapes, breaks his leg in a few places and is left for dead. He begs for redemption from the others in a letter in his journal before he dies. Now because I picked Harold, he became my true first person narrator. When he was betrayed I felt vengeance was the only option and I begun to dislike the members of the Free Zone, even the ones I had not found irritating initially.

Because when bitches talk smack they need to get slapped.

I begun to dislike the characters because even after a superflu epidemic, the old ways resurfaced, the politics, the land grabbings and the power struggles. The Stand attempts to show that humans will be humans, flawed, and that we can only appeal to faith in a higher being to deliver us. For example, both a sociologist and a judge get a bullet through the head from Flagg’s henchmen, the scientists were mostly wiped out by a flu epidemic of their own creation. Instead it was the meek who triumphed, the electronic calculator makers, the veterinarians and the electricity repairmen who inherited huge tracts of land.

Earth? I own that bitch.

And the meek should really go and screw themselves I feel, because they are the one’s with the drum and bass and electronica obsessions and the ignorance of death and destruction apart from what they feel in their own stupid lives. Oh so you’re meek? Go fuck yourself. The heathens were screwed from the beginning it seems anyway. And I/Harold was left dying with a broken leg while vultures nibbled on my tatas. What fun!

Happy New Year! 

RB