Some Trampy Chick Was Released From Prison Yesterday...

I'm not going to waste your valuable time with the details of this perplexing "story" like some major media outlets I know (read: ALL of them). Suffice it to say that some dumb, lazy-eyed tramp was released from prison yesterday, whored her way home and got hair extensions.

She's made a couple of amature porn videos and is named after some hotel in France. Really, what more do you need to know? Actually, this is probably too much information. I don't think I am being overly harsh is saying this, nor do I feel that I am alone in these sentiments, but the next time I read her name it had better be in the obituaries.

Robot Chicken Star Wars

Because I'm feeling uncharacteristically generous this morning, here is the complete 30 minute Robot Chicken Star Wars special for your viewing enjoyment. My personal favorite sketch is the phone call the Emperor receives about the destruction of the death star. He hasn't even finished paying for it and it's blown up by "a bunch of teenagers" in an "aluminum falcon".

Whether you are one of the seven people out there who has never seen a single Star Wars movie or one of the legions of rabid, mouth-breathing fan boys this montage of short parodies is sure to illicit a chuckle or two.

The farce is strong with this one.

*Update: Looks like they ripped this video down like five minutes after I posted it. The Nazis over at Adult Swim don't like you watching videos anywhere but their own ugly-ass site, so if you are still interested you can watch the damn thing here: Robot Chicken Star Wars!

This of course means that you will have to navigate away from my ultra sexy blog, but if you really feel the need to....Hey, where did everybody go?!? Hello? I hate you all so much....

A Shockng Medical Breakthrough...

The investigative journalists over at the Onion News Network have made a shocking discovery: Most of the old codgers being hospitalized and treated for alzheimers don't, in fact, have alzheimers. It was all just a big misunderstanding. Kinda' like that time I made a life sized statue of a friend, stuck a knife in it and left it on his front porch with a note that said: "You". When I asked him about it the next day, he didn't know what I was talking about. I must have left it at the wrong house. Ah well, we all got a pretty good laugh out of it, and no harm done.

The Top 10 Ways To Procrastinate on Your 100th Post

Just in case you haven't noticed there have been no new posts in well over a week. I'd like to apologize to my loyal reader(s) for this oversight and assure you (you know who you are) that there is a very good reason for this. Okay so maybe it's not a "good" reason but it's the only excuse I have for my degenerate laziness so cut me some damn slack would ya?

You see, I've reached a bit of a milestone (as opposed to a "millstone", that's for grinding corn) here at Infinite Monkeys. This bit of dreck that you are currently reading is my official 100th post! My problem this past week has been deciding what to do with this momentous occasion. Of course, my complete and utter inability to make even the simplest of decisions has led me to procrastinate (as opposed to "masturbate", which I admit has also taken up a considerable amount of my time). I have, in fact, elevated procrastination to an art form of sorts. Here are the top 10 things I did this week rather than write my 100th post. Actually, you know what? I'm kinda' tired right now. Maybe I'll do it tomorrow....

10. Watch the entire second season of Lost on DVD. I don't see what the big deal about this show is. I didn't particularly enjoy it the first time when it was known as "Gilligan's Island".

9. Work at my day job. Because blogging doesn't pay what it used to and I have needs. All those tacos and giant foam cowboy hats aren't going to pay for themselves you know.

8. Exercise. My daily workout regiment has actually started to pay off. I can now eat half a bucket of chicken before I start to sweat.

7. Get on the wagon. It's amazing to me how stupid and wasteful this whole blogging thing seems when you have been sober for a couple of days. Now that I'm back on my daily supply of vitamin "vodka", I feel compelled to share my pathetic thoughts with complete strangers again.

6. Learn the ancient Chinese art of origami. I can already make a boulder, a meteorite and a snowball. What can I say, I'm a fast learner.

5. Get in touch with some old friends. Except replace "old friends" with "ex-girlfriends", and "get in touch" with "stalk". It's not my fault they never changed the password for their voicemail.

4. Facebook. What is it about this social networking site that is so damned compelling? Seriously, try explaining Facebook to someone who has never heard of it without making it sound completely retarded. It's impossible.

3. Working on my novel. For those of you that don't know, that's super-secret guy code for "surfing Internet porn". If I were actually working on a novel it would be over three thousand pages by now. Sheesh, get a clue.

2. Sleeping and eating. I'm pretty sure I have that disease that makes you tired and hungry all the time. What's the name of it again? Oh yeah: Marijuana.

1. Following the Paris Hilton prison saga. I'm fairly certain that I died recently and am currently residing in Hell. How else to explain the fact that this has been the TOP NEWS STORY for over a week?!?! Isn't there a fucking WAR on?!?! All the attention being paid to this stupid, spoiled whore and her ilk is a sure sign that we are doomed as a species. Put on your helmets boys and girls, Armageddon is right around the corner.

"You see how they condescend to us!?!"

It is my firm belief that if we are ever going to survive as a species and live harmoniously on this planet we must embrace all of the multi-layered cultures of the world. Or we could just make fun of how they talk. Yeah, let's do that...The second thing.

Why Couldn't The Pirate Get In To See The Movie?...Because It Was Rated Arrrrrr!

In honour of the release of Pirates of The Caribbean: At World's End today, I have assembled a list of the top five pirates to ever swagger drunkenly onto the silver screen. Movie pirates are often characterized by their strict adherence to stereotypes, outrageous overacting and their tendency to be played by some of the most gifted actors in Hollywood. The following five are no exception. So grab a bottle of rum, gouge out one of your eyes, find a parrot to molest, sit back and enjoy the list.

1. Captain Jack Sparrow (a.k.a. Johnny Depp, Pirates of the Caribbean)

Was there ever any doubt who would make the number one spot? Depp easily blows the competition out of the water with his twisted, salty portrayal of Captain Jack Sparrow. He single-handedly made pirates "cool" again and rescued an otherwise by-the-numbers summer popcorn flick from mediocrity.

2. Captain Long John Silver (a.k.a Tim Curry, Muppet Treasure Island)



Everything is better with muppets. Everything. So why should this classic tale by Robert Louis Stevenson be any different? Perhaps the only thing better than muppets dressed up as pirates is Tim Curry (whatever happened to him anyway?) as the mutinous Captain Long John Silver. While he may not be the "manliest" pirate on the list he knows how to handle a pistol and he's got a mean singing voice. And he has one of the best sword fights ever filmed with Kermit the Frog. 'Nuff said.

3. Captain Hook (a.k.a Dustin Hoffman, Hook)



One of the most underrated movies of all time features one of best performances of Dustin Hoffman's career. Captain Hook is sort of the "James Bond" of Pirates, he's been played by so many different actors. Well, Dustin Hoffman is the "Sean Connery" of Captain Hooks. No one has ever played this seminal villian with a more over-the-top, balls-out performance. Shame that he has to get his ass kicked by a balding, pudgy Robin Williams. But these kind of risks come with the pirate territory.

4. The Dread Pirate Roberts (a.k.a. Cary Elwes, The Princess Bride)



Bringing this one home from the video store on a Saturday night when your girlfriend sends you out for a movie is a win-win situation. First of all, it is an amazingly awesome movie in every way, and secondly it will almost guarantee that you get some action that night. Why? Well, mostly because of Cary Elwes sly portrayal of The Dread Pirate Roberts, a.k.a The Man in Black, a.k.a. Westley. Not only does he look like he just stepped off the cover of a trashy romance novel, he is funny AND intelligent. He looses points for not having enough of that "pirate grit", but he gains a few for getting to bang Robin Wright. High Five Cary!

5. Steve The Pirate (a.k.a Alan Tudyk, Dodgeball)



Okay, so he's not a pirate in the traditional sense and I admit, I'm not even sure who the hell Alan Tudyk is, but there is something unspeakably beautiful about a grown man who thinks he is a pirate and plays professional Dodgeball. Steve is either a genius or insane, or both. Whatever the case, we can be sure of one thing; Steve has paved the way for random pirate characters in movies. I don't think I'm alone in saying that we need to see more of this. Can you imagine if Gone With The Wind had a random pirate character who would show up and utter cryptic sayings and then sail away on his civil-war era pirate ship? Now that's a movie I'd like to see!

Cassadaga

Artist: Bright Eyes

I must admit that my first impression of this new full-length album from Bright Eyes was lukewarm at best. The opening track "Clairaudients" fades in with the muted mumblings of a psychic woman consulting someone about "centers of energy" and "vortexes". After a full two minutes of this I was about to skip to the next track when Conor Oberst's haunted voice came bubbling up from the ether. His vocals on this track, and indeed most of the album, sound a little unlike the angst-riddled, suffering Conor that we are used to. He wails and croons with a self-assured bravado, sounding all the while like an artist completely at home and comfortable with his art.

It took about two or three complete listenings for my initial reservations to fade. Yes, this was indeed the same Bright Eyes that first hooked me in with "Landlocked Blues", in my opinion one of the most bittersweet and poignant balads ever written. They just sound a little less indie and a little more mainstream on most of Cassadaga. Like a small town band shouting from the highest building in the big city, letting everyone know that they can play with the big boys. The "big boys", however, could never write brilliant lyrics like this.

The tracks "Four Winds" and "Soul Singer in a Session Band" are infused with bubbly energy, while more Conor-esque suffering pervades tracks like "No One Would Riot For Less" and "Lime Tree". There is indeed something for everyone on this eclectic album. While it still doesn't measure up to the brilliance of "I'm Wide Awake It's Morning", it is growing on me. Kinda' like that toe fungus.

Score: 10/12 monkeys

Chillin' With Charlie The Unicorn

After that last post I've decided that I need to chill out a little. Need to focus my chi, balance my yin with my yang, inhale serenity and exhale thoughts of murderous rampages. Or I could just get high and watch Charlie the Unicorn.

Wow, I feel better already. What war in Iraq? Who's the president of the United States? Isn't it that old actor dude? Talking unicorns are funny. I can't believe I ate the whole bag of corn chips. Damn, I should be a doctor or something.

"Candy Mountain, Chaaaaarlieeee." I don't think I'll ever get tired of that.

Prince Harry Won't Be Killing Any Iraqis. At Least Not Legally.

It seems that Prince Harry, who is third in line for the British throne, has been told that war is simply too dangerous for a person of his stature. So despite his obvious desire to kill men, women and children from a whole other country, he will not be deployed to Iraq.

General Sir Richard Dannatt, the army chief of staff made the pronouncement yesterday, saying: "It would be a blow to morale if a member of the royal family, who is a genuine member of the armed forces, a serving officer, a real soldier, is too precious to be sacrificed, to be put in harm's way..."

Well, there's some breaking news for ya': War is dangerous and you might even get killed! Remember, you heard it here first. What I'd like to know is where the hell was this Dannatt guy three years ago when 18-year-old Matthew Alexander graduated from High school and enlisted to fight? He was killed in Iraq this past weekend. Thanks for nothing, Richie. Where the hell were you on that one?!? Why isn't this sage advice being given to the thousands of poor, underprivilaged kids who enlist in the military as their only hope of paying for college? Why didn't somebody tell 20-year-old Nick Hartge about the perils of warfare before he was killed in a raid on Monday? And where in the thrice-goddamned-hell were these paragons of common sense four years ago, when George "The Cowboy" Bush launched this bullshit pre-emptive war in the first place?

Okay, I admit that putting someone from the British Royal family in harm's way is just unthinkable. After all, where would that country be without it's royal family? Who would spend all the taxpayers money? Who would the tabloids write about every day? Who would cut ribbons at monument dedications and attend all the polo matches? It would be anarchy I tell you! Anarchy!

Bloodletting & Miraculous Cures

Author: Vincent Lam

To be honest, I'm a little burned out on "medical dramas". I was a rabidly devoted fan of ER for the first five or six seasons, before most of the original cast left, I've seen my share of "Life in the ER" style reality shows, I've had a passing interest in Grey's Anatomy and like most people, I've been in a hospital a time or two. So I'm not sure what posessed me to pick up this book and dive into yet ANOTHER story about burned-out doctors, difficult patients and poignant reflections on mortality. Perhaps it was the three pages of rave reviews or the fact that it won the Scotiabank Giller prize, or perhaps it was the nifty red cover with the cool picture of a heart; Who knows? Even after reading it I'm afraid that I can't offer you too much in the way of a recommendation because the forgettable characters and lack of a cohesive plot caused the entire thing to slip from my memory exactly two minutes after putting it down.

In all fairness though, Vincent Lam is a talented writer. His prose is polished and slick and his intimate knowledge of the medical profession (his "day job" is an emergency room physician) is evident throughout. The problem here is the subject matter itself. It's just one more kick at the dead-horse doctor drama, and while it is a good, solid kick, that animal just ain't breathing.

So unless you have some kind of unhealthy obsession with hospitals and all the messy business associated with them, I'd suggest taking this book off of life support and letting it die with dignity. Please Doctor Lam, don't quit your day job.

I guess they will hand out Giller prizes to just about anybody. Although, this is a step-up from last years winner: "My Dad Can Beat Up Your Dad" by five-year-old Josh McLean. It is a scathing commentary on man's self-destructive pride. Written in crayon on cocktail napkins. With pictures.

Score: 5/12 monkeys

They're On To Us!

Those U.S. defense contractors are an incredibly insightful bunch. They have once again foiled Canada's plans for world domination. It seems that after receiving one of the ubiquitous "poppy" quarters in their change on a recent trip to Canada, the contractors in question logically assumed that it contained some sort of sophisticated spy technology. See the full story here.

It is important to remember that these are the same people behind the frighteningly Orwellian "homeland security" and "patriot act". These are grown men who still have the boogeyman living under their beds. If they can't keep us safe, well...Anybody can.

Okay guys, I guess the spy quarter was a bad idea. I mean, it's pretty obvious. Back to the drawing board. Perhaps we will have more luck with the mind-controlling drugs in Tim Hortons coffee or the highly trained army of ninja beavers. Or Celine Dion. Because when I think of the world falling under the ruthless domination of Canada, I think Celine Dion.

The Road

Author: Cormac McCarthy

Normally I go out of my way to avoid any book with a sticker on the cover proclaiming "Oprah's Book Club". I am afraid that by simply touching it I will become a militant, right-wing feminist. Despite that mark of cain appearing on the cover of "The Road", I simply couldn't ignore the glowing reviews, intriguing plot description and the fact that it won the Pulitzer Prize. After thumbing through it a little, I found no references to women with eating disorders or grossly exaggerated tales of drug addiction so I decided to give it a shot.

I'm glad I did. This post-apocalyptic tale of a father and son travelling through the ashes of a devastated world is a work of bittersweet brilliance from start to finish. The sense of crushing despair is palpable, you can almost feel the grit of the road crunching beneath your bootheels and taste the ashes on your tongue. The only small light in this darkness is the bond of love shared by the two nameless characters. It is a work of both staggering complexity and profound simplicity. McCarthy's grasp of the language is unparalelled with lines of descrpition and dialogue that would be just as at home in the works of Faulkner or Keats.

Okay Oprah, I'll give ya' this one. Don't for one second start thinking that I'm not on to your diabolical plan for world domination, however. She must be stopped! Who's with me!?!? I have a plan that involves a giant catapult and lots of chocolate cake. Because everyone knows that chocolate cake is Oprah's kryptonite. Or...Wait, no....Chocolate cake is MY kryptonite! Damn you, Oprah! I'll get you for this!

Score: 12/12 monkeys

National Poetry Month + Stephen Colbert = The Meta-Free-Phor-All

It's national poetry month, and if you need a break from crafting your couplet, hammering out your haiku or laying down your limerick, check out Stephen Colbert and Sean Penn going head to head in this hilarious Meta-Free-Phor-All.

Poetry isn't just for scrawny, pasty-faced gothic kids anymore. It's a great way to express yourself in a bad-ass, manly way. Just ask that woman who lives down the street from me who was the lucky recipient of my 300-page epic entitled: "I Found the Key to My Heart While Digging Through Your Garbage". In fact, she loved it so much, she sent me one entitled: "Restraining Order".

"You are ordered not to come within 200 yards"....Ah such magical verse. It just rolls off the tongue.

Oh Cruel Mario...How You Mock Me!

It's very late, I'm very tired and I should probably be sleeping right now, but I just happened to stumble across one of the funniest videos I've seen in a very long time and I felt the need to share it.

This running commentary of a session spent playing some of the hardest levels of Super Mario is riddled with obscenities and some of the greatest one-liners in the history of video game frustration. One of my personal favorites: "This is worse than The Davinci Code! The novel by Dan Brown AND the movie!"

It's quite long, but worth every minute. So crack a cold beer, sit back, and watch this poor sod's sanity completely unravel. I'm sure anyone who's ever owned a Nintendo can relate. In fact, the most common technical problem with this game system was a little glitch known as: "Smashed multiple times with a hammer". It wasn't even covered in the warranty.

Lullabies for Little Criminals

Author: Heather O'Neill

Does anyone truly remember what life was like when they were twelve years old? Did your mother die while you were too young to have any memory of her? Did your father have a crippling heroine addiction? Was your only friend a pimp who forced you to turn tricks in the seedy underbelly of Montreal? How could anyone possibly survive a childhood tainted by such ugliness? By staying connected to the mystery and magic of childhood, that's how. That is exactly what Baby, the twelve year old protagonist of Heather O'Neill's beautfully poetic novel does.

This book will break your heart. It will then take the pieces and re-assemble them into a box full of childhood memories, fears and ecstasy. It reads more like poetry than prose, with a lyrical cadence full of simile and metaphor. There are moments of profound sadness sharing the same page with moments of sly humour. This is a remarkable first novel from an author with a bright, exciting future.

My testosterone levels are dangerously low after reading this book and writing this review. I'm gonna' go eat a big, bloody steak, watch a mindless action movie and then punch somebody in the face. Seeing the world through the eyes of a twelve year old girl is a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to spend a whole lot of time there. It's a little uncomfortable how much we have in common. Creepy? You bet.

Score: 11/12 monkeys

Apple's iRack

Mad TV has never been synonomous with brilliant satire. Once in a very great while however, they step up to the plate, kick the dirt from their cleats and knock one out of the park. If you are not one of the five people out there who watch this show on a regular basis don't worry, Infinite Monkeys has got your back.

This iRack looks like a fantastic product. All they have to do is convince the public that is was built by terrorists and it might have weapons of mass destruction and I'm quite sure it will start flying off the shelves.

Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs

Author: Chuck Klosterman

Deconstructing pop culture in the post modern age is like making jokes at the expense of George W. Bush. It all feels a little redundant because the work is already done for you. Unless, of course you are Chuck Klosterman. Nobody can put a more refreshing, insightful and hilarious spin on the state of our modern world quite like he has in this "low culture manifesto".

He blames Woody Allen movies for the breakdown of the modern relationship. He delves into the surreal world of a Guns N' Roses tribute band. He views Saved by The Bell as one of the most culturally important shows in the history of television. He believes the 1980's playoff game between the Los Angeles Lakers and the Boston Celtics is a metaphor for absolutely everything in the Universe. The man is completely insane. But like most insane people, he is also a genius.

I challenge you to read the chapter entitled "Billy Sim" and not laugh out loud like an idiot. His attempts to recreate his own life within the confines of The Sims video game is one of the funniest things I have ever read. Ever. Here's a sample:

"I clicked on the "options" key and directed my cursor to the button that said "Free Will." I deployed actualization and Sim Chuck was emancipated. I watched him take a shower and crawl into his Sleeping Machine, where he slept for the next fourteen hours. And then I did the same."

This book is required reading for pop culture junkies. It unapologetically tells us that our world is a pretty fucked up place, but that's okay. We're much better off if we just surf the wave of craziness, laughing all the while. Otherwise it will break on top of you and you will most likely drown. Surfing analogies are cool, and they give me street cred. Whatever that is.

Score: 9/12 monkeys

Happy Easter...South Park Style

South Park -1105- Fantastic Easter Special.

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The Davinci Code with ninjas, a *krull-hurling Jesus and grown men dressed up as easter bunnies. The way it should have been. Thank you South Park for turning an unreadable book and unwatchable movie into the best Easter special ever. Here it is in it's entirety, for your viewing pleasure.

Happy Easter everyone!

*For those of you who did too many (or not enough) drugs back in the 80's, Krull was a cheesy sci-fi flick about a bad-ass dude who threw a giant ninja star around. Why? Because giant ninja stars are cool. It's just like that time I built one in shop class and threw it at that homeless guy. He was pretty upset and bleeding quite badly, but in the end we all learned a valueable lesson about the magic of sharing. Rated: R for scenes of graphic awesomeness.

Vacation Fallout

Sorry about the lack of posts lately. I've been on vacation and it's awfully difficult to write anything worthwhile after thirty shots of jagermeister and with a house full of strippers breaking open a George W. Bush pinyata. Well, I'm happy to report that I've cleaned up after the goats, called a cab for the midgets and taken down all the balloons. The party is over and it's back to work.

The above picture was sent to me by a friend who saw it and immediately thought of me. I can't even begin to tell you how creepy that is. Actually, I can: It's damn creepy. He sent it along with a note explaining that I was the only person he knew that would appreciate it as much as he did. Needless to say, he was right on the money. Does this make me a bad person? Probably. Do I care what you think? Absolutely not. So if any of you out there have any more disturbing, tasteless, or downright EVIL pictures or jokes that you would like to share, feel free to e-mail them to me. If I find them suitably disgusting, I might even post about them and send a link back to a website of your choice. My generosity knows no bounds. Kinda' like my hangover.

See you in hell Brownie.

The Terror

Author: Dan Simmons

There really is no "good" way to die. However, some methods of shuffling off this mortal coil are definitely worse than others. After reading The Terror, I can think of no worse way than slowly wasting away from scurvy. It's slow, painful and includes symptoms such as bleeding from hair follicles, bruising that never heals and blackend, receeding gums. I've been drinking seven glasses of orange juice every day. Better to be safe than sorry.

All of this and more befalls the 127 men of the ill-fated John Franklin expedition to find the legendary Northwest Passage in the winter of 1847. Their two ships, Erebus and Terror find themselves frozen in the ice above northern Canada for more than three years, forcing the men to abandon ship and make their way overland across the unrelenting ice. Spoiled food stores, killing cold and rampant scurvy are just the beginning. Some massive, inhuman thing is stalking them across the ice. A giant predator that exhibits a malevolent intelligence and super-human strength and cunning.

Simmons is one hell of a storyteller, and he is in top form here. His characters are immediately identifiable and pathos-inducing. His narrative deftly shifts perspectives and each one is truly unique. Whether we are viewing events through the eyes of the hardened leader, Captain Francis Crozier, or through the earnest diary entries of the ship's surgeon, Dr. Harry D.S. Goodsir, Simmons imbues each with the spark of life that is so rare in most modern fiction these days. It is a brilliant story well told, what more could you possibly ask of any novel?

One small caveat: This book is not for the squeamish. Simmons never flinches away from descriptions of men dying horrific deaths. Lots of men. In fact, I wouldn't even recommend reading this one during or after eating. Keep lots of fresh fruit and vegetables handy though, you DO NOT want to die of scurvy.

Score: 10/12 monkeys