Jul 15 2012

“It’s Groundhog Day!”

Published by under Uncategorized

Groundhog Day is a great movie if you want to try and keep up with everything in it. Want to own the CD? Save up by winning with Ukash Australia.

gdposter2Okay, campers, rise and shine, and don’t forget your booties ’cause it’s cold out there today. It’s cold out there every day; what is this, Miami Beach? Not hardly! And you know you can expect hazardous travel later today with that, you know, that, uh, that blizzard thing. The National Weather Service is calling for a “big blizzard thing!” Yes, they are. But you know, there’s another reason why today is especially exciting. The big question on everybody’s lips, their chapped lips: do ya think Phil is gonna come out and see his shadow? Punxsutawney Phil! That’s right, woodchuck chuckers, it’s Groundhog Day! And to celebrate, The Sci-Fi Guys give you our first ever SALUTE TO TIME LOOPS!

In case you were sealed underground in a bomb shelter in 1993, Groundhog Day was Bill Murray’s amazing hit movie about a man forced to live the same day over and over again until he gets it right. Everyone in the world except for two shut-in invalids in Turkmenistan went to see this movie. Everyone of them loved it more than chocolate and sex. Because of the pure heavenliness of this movie and it’s amazing box office sales, Bill Murray has enough money to buy Saturn. Kinda sucks that we’re no not reviewing it, huh? Oh, well. We do, however, have a ton of great sci-fi/fantasy time loop stuff to cover. I need to throw out some love and thanks for this article, which I couldn’t possibly have done on my own. Fortunately I’ve got my girls watching out for me, so I’m not flying solo on this. Writing with me are Sci-Fi Girl and Mrs. X, who rock the sci-fi casbah whether the sharif likes it or not. But enough about us. Let’s talk time loops. Let’s talk The Twilight Zone.

There was a time, back when there was such a thing as independent local television stations in the United States, that The Twilight Zone could be seen with far greater frequency than it can now. And that’s a damn shame. I consider the gobbling up and mindless standardization of local television stations by national media conglomerates to be a fucking crime against American entertainment. It used to be that, while the big name-brand stations were pumping out afternoons full of soap operas and other completely unwatchable shit, local independent stations were rerunning old Twilight Zone and Honeymooners episodes, followed up with two or three hours of cartoons like Transformers, Thundercats, G.I. Joe, He-Man And The Masters Of The Universe, and all those magnificent Japanese cartoons that you couldn’t see anywhere else on American television. The major networks were too afraid to touch syndicated cartoons full of science fiction and violence and sorcery and characters that were not cute little animals. Independent local television stations made it possible for kids my age to get our first childhood taste of anime (of course, at the time, we didn’t have that word; it was ‘Japanimation’ back then, junior).

Local independents were also the only ones who could decide to change their scheduling and line-up every couple of months and do wacky shit like run back to back episodes of Star Trek at 9 and 10 PM on Friday nights, or have a 24-hour marathons of The Twilight Zone twice a year, or run the G.I. Joe and Thundercats movies in prime time, just because they fucking felt like it. Local managers had the authority to make those decisions then, and if you didn’t live through it, I can’t describe to you how cool it was. There was nothing like on network television, ever. It was really something special. In the early to mid-1980s there were over 300 independent TV stations in the US. Only a fraction of that remains. There are only six independent television stations left in Ohio, and only one here in Kentucky. Canada’s got it even worse; there’s only one independent television station left in the whole country. Now almost all of those great little stations are dead except for their call letters. Everybody watches the same homogenized, centrally programmed fucking network garbage everywhere at the same time. I honestly feel a sense of loss about this, and I’m sure I’m not the only one. I wish Sci-Fi Girl had been able to see how cool these little stations were. Her generation will never experience television like I did when I was a kid. I don’t watch TV much any more, and I think the loss of quirky, interesting local stations is a big part of that. Its hard for me to keep glued to the set these days. I remember TV before it sucked.

Television has fallen greatly in my estimation over the past 20 years, but the glory days were fuckin’ fine. Around Cincinnati, there were two major independents. The first was the always struggling Channel 64, WIII, “the I’s of Cincinnati.” Their transmitter was woefully inadequate; we lived a mere 30 miles from Cincinnati, and WIII wasn’t even a blip when you passed it on the dial. It may as well have not been there at all. But Grandma, who lived not too far north of the station, got it just fine. Saturday mornings at her house was all about 5:30 AM WIII. It was the only time and place in my world I could drink in such tempting Asian delights as Robotech, Tranzor Z, Voltron, and Starblazers. A bowl of cereal in hand, sitting in my Grandpa’s chair in my tighty-whities was the first time I saw a naked cartoon character. Robotech, Lynn Minmei, shower scene on the SDF-1. Guess the guys at WIII didn’t watch the tapes before they aired them. And I suppose anybody in the world like myself who was watching at the time – there were probably about ten of us – wasn’t about to make a fuss, because they aired anime for a damn long while. Sweet fucking Jesus, I loved these shows. Channel 64 didn’t have a lot to offer, but it did have Japanimation, and that was enough for me to love it ’til the day it died.

And then there was Channel 19. WXIX. King of UHF. The only television station in the nation to have it’s call letters reflect its channel in Roman numeral form. And, as far as any of us kids were concerned, the holy motherfucking grail of television. We lived down in a valley in the woods of Kentucky, and our television reception was spotty at best. Only on rainy days, or when the unknowable whims of the gods of electromagnetic broadcasting deemed us temporarily worthy, could we could get Channel 19. And when it happened, Frog Boy and I would be glued to the TV like that construction worker’s hardhat was glued to that steel beam. It was Channel 19, god damn it. That’s not just something you just turn off.

This poster adorned my wall for all of my teen years, and well into my twenties. I am not popular with the ladies.
Channel 19 brought me my first taste a lot of things I love to this day. Transformers, Star Trek, Taxi, WKRP In Cincinnati, the really good syndicated episodes of The Real Ghostbusters that ABC didn’t air, Batman: The Animated Series, All In The Family, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles – you name it, and there’s a 50/50 chance I saw it on WXIX first. But most of all, it brought me The Twilight Zone. One of the most significant reasons I write my little reviews and that I love sci-fi so goddamn much to this day is one that I don’t think I’ve written about until now. Its The Twilight Zone. While Star Trek reruns were always fun to watch when I was a kid, and the occasional goofiness of Buck Rogers or Battlestar Galactica were an okay way to kill an hour, Twilight Zone reruns were a must. Those were the shows you dropped everything else for.

Now that I’ve forced you to read the entire history of Cincinnati area broadcasting from the perspective of a child who was too young to have witnessed much of it, I should probably start talking about time loops, huh? That’s what this article’s about, remember? So lets talk about “Shadow Play.”

“Shadow Play” is not my favorite episode of The Twilight Zone, but its a damn good one. It focuses on a condemned man who is reliving his sentencing and execution over and over. Unlike Groundhog Day, the man comes to realize that he is, in fact, dreaming. But that’s not the point of the story. The point, a point made clear in Groundhog Day and in the two television shows reviewed below, is that repetition, to quote Stephen King, is Hell.

We fade into the story already in progress, as many episodes of The Twilight Zone do. We see a courtroom in which we witness Adam Grant being sentenced to death for the crime of murder. He looks equally worried and terrified, but not at the sentencing. He was worried before that. You see how this show was made? The Twilight Zone, unlike most shows then and now, assumed its audience was intelligent enough to pick up on what was going on without being spoon fed the details. We don’t need to be told that this man has more on his mind than being sentenced the electric chair. We don’t need to know what happened to him before this, or how he came to be there. All we need to know is right there in front of us, much of it acted out wordlessly. The tension is evident in every frame.

Enter Rod Serling. Rod was the genius behind The Twilight Zone and the undisputed lord god almighty of the twist ending. His straightforward delivery makes him the master of all The Twilight Zone’s fucked up ceremonies, and I think its safe to say that everyone who has ever tried to equal him in the “Hello, I’m your host, and welcome to the most twisted part of Hell” arena has fallen laughably short. Anyone else in his position would have been tempted to go the Igor/Crypt Keeper route and act all mangled and fucked up. Not Serling. No, Rod appeared on screen dressed in a nice suit, hair neatly groomed, casually smoking a cigarette, voice level and clear, telling you in as plain and calm a manner as humanly possible that the worst fucking things in the world were about to happen to you, and there was nothing you could do about it. This guy was the man.

In the case of “Shadow Play”, he lets the audience see exactly what’s going on, then tells them they were right. It’s like the worst imaginable trip to the doctor. Before he spoke we were pretty sure we had cancer. Now that he’s done talking, we know we have cancer. That’s a scary difference. This is what Rod Serling had to say about poor Adam Grant:

“Adam Grant: a nondescript kind of man found guilty of murder and sentenced to the electric chair. Like every other criminal caught in the wheels of justice, he’s scared, right down to the marrow of his bones. But it isn’t prison that scares him, the long, silent nights of waiting, the slow walk to the little room, or even death itself. It’s something else that holds Adam Grant in the hot, sweaty grip of fear, something worse than any punishment this world has to offer. Something found only in the Twilight Zone.”

You see what he does? He ups the ante. We knew it was bad. He not only confirms it, but promises that it’ll get worse. We knew we had cancer, but now we know it’s inoperable and we’re in for a lot of suffering. This is one of the reasons The Twilight Zone was, and remains, so incredible. This is not just TV. Its masterful storytelling.

As the story unfolds, we watch Adam Grant make compelling arguments that everyone he encounters are all people he has known in his waking life who are now playing the parts in his nightmare of endless repetition from which he cannot escape. Time loops the same for him again and again; he is tried, found guilty, sentenced, then executed after an exhausting and ultimately futile attempt to get a pardon and end the dream cycle.

You know what? I’m not going to tell you how it ends. Its too good. I’m not going to ruin it for you. I will tell you this: this is The Twilight Zone you’re watching, so don’t bank on a happy ending. Half of these shows end so horribly for the people involved that its amazing they made it on the air in the 1950s. Let me just sum up “Shadow Play” by saying that there is a point where death, dream, reality, and awakening come to a crossroads. Where a lot of bad television and movies would have resorted to special effects to tell this story, the guys behind The Twilight Zone opted for an even more effective technique. They quickly dimmed the lights in the studio, leaving the actors in absolute darkness, then faded to the next scene. It was amazing. It was SO much more impressive than any effect could have been. Fucking genius. Man, why don’t they make shows like this any more?

The next time someone criticizes your taste for liking sci-fi/fantasy (let’s be honest, it happens to us all), look them straight in the face and say “ROD FUCKING SERLING.” If they don’t immediately acknowledge that you have schooled them and that you are the complete lord and master of the Quick Stop, then they are too stupid to judge you, and you may move on your way secure in the knowledge that you are the superior life form. People like Rod Serling are not just good, they’re legendary. Son of a bitch, that’s good television.

While not as popular or well received as the originals, the 1980’s version of The Twilight Zone was a worthy successor to Rod Serling’s seasons, featuring some very good stories and plenty of star power. My favorite episode: 1988’s “The Curious Case Of Edgar Witherspoon,” featuring Harry Morgan from M*A*S*H.
Of course, those days of afternoon horrors with The Twilight Zone are long gone, like my beloved independent stations. Marking its further decline, Channel 64 changed its call letters to WSTR in 1990, and became known as “Star 64.” It’s death as an independent station came in 1995, when it became one of the founding UPN affiliates and changed it’s name to UPN 64. Channel 19, once a beacon of everything that equaled TV coolness, quietly became a charter affiliate of the newly formed Fox network in 1986. Channel 19 resisted unecessary change and remained thoroughly awesome well into the early 90s, but started to lose much of its luster with the loss of, that’s right, its impressively cool afternoon lineup. The station changed its on-air branding to fucking “Fox 19″ in 1996, and it has been dead to me ever since. I’ll bet the kids who watch it now don’t even know what The Twilight Zone is. That makes me sad. If you were one of the lucky ones like me, you lived to see these stations in their heyday and know what I’m making such a fuss about. My only hope is that some day, somehow, we’ll get local programming like this back again, and more kids will be exposed to mind-blowing shows like “Shadow Play.” I don’t mean to sound like such an old fart, but I swear to god, those really were the days.

The Twilight Zone pinball game was released by Midway in 1993. Midway gave the designer complete artistic control over the game, resulting in what many pinball enthusiasts consider to be the most complex pinball game ever created. Among its features are a working gumball machine which deposits pinballs, a working analog clock used as a timer, a small, separate playing field where the ball is propelled by magnets rather than flippers, the Powerball, a white ceramic ball which is lighter than a regular steel ball and is non-magnetic, and “Lost In The Zone,” a reward mode for skillful play in which the player has approximately 45 seconds to make an unlimited number of shots using 6 pinballs simultaneously. In addition to the theme music from the original TV show, the game’s main background music is a remix of the 1982 hit “Twilight Zone” by Golden Earring. Click the pic to check out some of the game’s very impressive artwork.
Next up is my little sista, Sci-Fi Girl, with her review of the Stargate: SG-1 time loop episode “Window Of Opportunity.”

Sci-Fi Girl writes: On planet P4X-639, the SG-1 team works to uncover the mystery behind an ancient device. Dr. Daniel Jackson and another archeologist named Malakai attempt to decipher the Latin-like language that covers the walls surrounding the device, but time is a pressing issue; a geomagnetic storm begins emitting radiation, and the travelers must finish their task before the radiation becomes deadly. Malakai, though, has plans of his own.

As the storm rages, Col. O’Neil calls Jackson to the Stargate. When he does not show, the team searches for him and finds that Jackson has been shot, and Malaki has activated the device. As O’Neil and Teal’c move to attack Malakai, they suddenly find themselves back in SG-1 headquarters in Cheyenne Mountain, 10 hours earlier.

Eating Froot Loops. ‘Cause they’re loops, see. Get it? Loops.
O’Neil and Teal’c are the only ones who remember being on P2X-639; the machine apparently was a time loop machine, so now O’Neil and Teal’c get looped to the past every 10 hours. Everyone else believes they‘re crazy.

I’m breaking off from the storyline here, but I would find that sooo annoying. I mean, having to sit through the same briefing 50 effin’ times? That’s just not cool… anyway, back to the story…

Props: Joseph Mallozzi is actually the name of the co-writer of this episode.
O’Neil and Teal’c find a way to keep notes and info around for the next loop. They and Jackson are trying to translate the Latinish language so they can go back, shut down the machine, and happy-do-da day. Of course, they only have 10 hours to do this each time, so when Jackson is translating and you have nothing to do, there’s nothing like juggling paper wads. Yes, that’s right, after you get sick from spinning in your chair why not teach an alien how to juggle.

It seems as though their getting nowhere and aren’t getting anything done, right? Wrong. At one point Jackson states, “If you know in advance that everything will go back to the way it was, you could do anything you want with out having consequences.” This seems to brighten their day; O’Neil has some ideas.

“Off the tee, past the event horizon, through the wormhole, onto Alaris, billions of miles, nuthin’ but ‘Gate.”
We start out by seeing the artistic side of O’Neil as we find him failing at trying to make a clay pot on a wheel. We then go on to see him ride through the army base on a bike with a little dingy bell. Then, my favorite part, O’Neil teaches Teal’c how to golf. And not just any golf – intergalactic golf! Yep, they open the Stargate to another planet and golf. Wouldn’t you love to set the world record for golf? Heck I could do it, and I can’t even hit 50 yards (just ask my gym teacher).

Ok, that’s all fun and all, but the next part I must explain for you nitwits out there who don’t watch Stargate. In the military you obviously can’t date anyone in your group-thingy. Col. O’Neil and Major Carter have feelings for each other that they obviously can’t express, so, as a non-consequential action, O’Neil resigns. When General Hammond asks why, O’Neil says, “So I can do this,” and a few seconds before they loop again, he dips Carter and kisses her. *sigh* How romantic.

I don’t know what the hell this is, but its from this episode, and people on the Stargate forums seem to love it. -Chris
Anyway, long story short, they figure out a way to shut down the machine and we all live happily ever after.  Now that were at the end you may ask how many times they looped. Well here’s an answer: the episode only shows 20 loops, each loop lasting 10 hours (we established that part already), but at the end Carter says that the Tokra have been trying to contact them for 3 months! You do the math. ~Sci-Fi Girl~

And for those of you out there who don’t want to do the math, three months of 10 hour loops comes to a minimum of 216 loops. At least that’s what Wikipedia tells me. And I think we all know that there’s no fact as solid as a fact based on anonymously posted, unverified popular opinion…


Okay, I wasn’t able to trust what I read, so I’ve just done the math for myself. The Wikipedia answer is wrong. You hear me? The price is wrong, bitch! The minimum three month span is the Jan-Feb-March stretch of 90 days (on a non-Leap Year). That’s usually 2160 hours, but in the northern hemisphere, where the SG-1 HQ is located, Daylight Savings Time sometimes falls on the last Sunday in March. The subtraction of the Daylight Savings hour makes for a minimum of 215.9 loops, assuming it is possible to only complete a partial loop. Conversely, the maximum number of loops would usually be 220.8

If we assume this episode took place in 2000, the year it was first aired, the minimum loops really is 216 (in 2000, Daylight Savings Time fell on April 2nd, the first Sunday in April). However, if we assume the episode took place on the exact date it first aired, August 4th, then Daylight Savings interferes yet again. In 2000, daylight savings ended on October 29th, but the guys would have been looping until November 4th; that’s 92 days, or 2208 hours. We need to tack an extra hour on there for October 29th; in this scenario they would have completed a maximum of 220.9 loops. Of course, if the whole Earth was caught in this time loop, then all this talk about months, days, and Daylight Savings becomes completely immaterial, but I think the important thing to remember is that god damn, I am a fucking NERD.

Next up we have Mrs. X’s review of The X-Files contribution to the time loop genre, “Monday.”

Mrs. X writes: Greetings, Mrs. X here with, believe it or not, my first review ever of an X-Files episode on this site. When Chris asked me to review this particular episode for his special Groundhog Day article, how could I pass up the chance? Although I’m not a huge fan of this particular ep, you just can’t say no to Chris. If you do, bad things happen… bad things. Anyway, on with the review.

“Monday” isn’t particularly one of my favorite X-Files episodes. In fact, I wouldn’t even put it in my top 10. Don’t get me wrong; it’s watchable. But it’s not an episode I would watch over and over again, hahahaha, pun totally intended. This is a Season 6 stand alone episode.

truth.jpgFor those of you not familiar with The X-Files (shame on you!), there are two types of episodes: the alien mythology arc episodes, which deal with all of the alien conspiracy stuff, and the stand alone episodes, which deal with weird, strange and paranormal phenomena, but have really nothing to do with the overall “mythology” of the show.  Season 6 has some particularly great stand alone episodes: “Drive,” “Triangle,” “Dreamland,” “Dreamland II,” “How the Ghosts Stole Christmas” (with Ed Asner and Lilly Tomlin), “Terms of Endearment,” “The Rain King,” “Agua Mala,” “Arcadia” (Mulder and Scully pretending to be married), “Alpha,” “Trevor,” “Milagro” (one of my personal favorites, very shippy), “The Unnatural” (great shippiness at the end, written and directed by David Duchovny), “Three of a Kind” (great Lone Gunman centered episode), “Field Trip,” “Tithonus,” and of course “Monday.” Since this isn’t an all inclusive Season 6 stand alone episode review, I will get back to my review of “Monday,” but I highly urge you, dear reader, to check out some of these episodes if you haven’t seen them yet. Oh, and one more side note before I really get into the review — Season 6 marks the first season of filming in LA after they moved production of The X-Files from Vancouver.

monday-pam1.jpgLike I said earlier, “Monday” isn’t horrible, but in my opinion it isn’t great either. Sorry if its someone’s favorite episode out there, but I could take it or leave it. It was written by two veteran X-Files writers, Vince Gilligan and John Shiban, and was directed by the great Kim Manners, whose name appears on many excellent episodes. The basic plot of “Monday” is, for lack of a better phrase, a rip off of Groundhog Day. The same day keeps repeating over and over again, except here no one is really supposed to learn any lesson or change their personality. It’s more of a study in free will versus fate.  Are we destined to do certain things and meet certain people, and no matter what we do that won’t change? Or can we change events in our life through our actions, thus guiding our own existence?

monday-skinner.jpgThe episode opens with what appears to be a hostage situation outside of a bank: lots of police cars, SWAT, and the head honcho of the X-Files at the FBI, Assistant Director Walter Skinner. A strung out, frightened looking girl runs to Skinner, warning him that she is reliving this day over and over again. This poor woman is Pam, but Skinner doesn’t know who the hell she is.

Cut to the bank interior: Mulder has been shot and Scully is holding him in her lap trying to apply pressure on the wound. Bernard, the would be bank robber now turned hostage taker, sees the SWAT team approach and blows up the bank with the bomb he has strapped to himself.  The opening credits roll and we are taking to the hallway of Mulder’s apartment building.

The morning paper is thrown against Mulder’s door, waking him. The scenes in Mulder’s bedroom definitely make this episode worth watching, even if the story isn’t all that great. Anytime I can see David Duchovny shirtless and in some fairly translucent pajama bottoms several times in one episode, I’ll take it… okay, sorry, back to the review.  So Mulder wakes up and realizes that his bed is soaking wet. His waterbed has sprung a leak.

A side note here: Mulder never had a bed until Season 6. He always slept on his couch.  The bed was acquired by one Morris Fletcher whom Mulder switched bodies with in “Dreamland” and “Dreamland II.”  Since Mulder has no memory of the events that took place in those episodes, he really doesn’t know how he got the waterbed, but he’s sleeping in it anyway. The floor is soaked, his alarm clock has shorted out, his cell phone is waterlogged, and he is late for work. On his way back from getting a pan from the kitchen, he trips over his shoes. This is a subtle thing that will change over the course of the episode as he travels through the time loop.

When he finally arrives at work and informs Scully he has to deposit his pay check so that he can cover the personal check he wrote his landlord for the damages.  Mulder tells her how his morning has gone, and she asks when he got a waterbed; this is another reference to the Dreamland episodes of which Scull also has no memory. Scully returns to the meeting she and Mulder were supposed to be attending, a tedious dicussion of crime projections, and Mulder heads to the bank.On his way, Mulder passes Pam and looks at her; she notes that he’s never done that before. Mulder is waiting in line at the bank when Bernard decides to rob the place. Scully, who has left the meeting to go look for Mulder, walks into the bank, realizes what’s going on, and draws her gun on Bernard. Mulder draws his weapon, Bernard shoots Mulder, and then blows up the bank. Again.

Cut to the hallway of Mulder’s apartment. Again.

The paper wakes Mulder, his waterbed has sprung a leak (mmm… more shirtless Duchovny), and he goes through the same motions, except this time when he trips over his shoes, he falls backwards instead of forward. When he gets to work he rips his paycheck while opening it, another subtle change. This time around, he and Scully have a discussion about fate versus free will, which I think is what the story is trying to convey.Instead of Mulder going to the bank, Scully says she will go for him.  He agrees to let her, but then realizes that he gave her the wrong part of the check and has to go to the bank to catch her. Of course Pam is sitting in the car as he goes by, and the longer the episode goes on the worse you start to feel for this poor girl who is obviously doomed to relive the same day over and over again, I can definitely see where it would take a toll.  So Mulder goes into the bank, and, long story short, Bernard blows it up again.

Props: The watch Fox Mulder wore all this season was a steel Omega DeVille Prestige, which is made to display the date as a number. A prop with a fake day window was made for the episode; in reality, this model does not have a window that would show what day it was. The creation of this prop leads to a continuity mistake in the series; “Monday” originally aired on February 28, 1999, but below is Mulder’s watch as seen in the episode “Arcadia” on March 7, 1999. The watch now appears, once again, as a standard Omega DeVille Prestige without the day display.

We see the paper hit Mulder’s front door four more times, indicating the start of the same day, same events over and over again. On the fifth repetion, Mulder wakes up, the waterbed has sprung a leak, but he tells the person on the other end of the phone that he will pay for it and hangs up, a distinct difference from the last couple of times he has repeated the day. It seems that Spooky is starting to tune into what’s going on.Meanwhile, Pam has made her way into the FBI building through a tour group and found Scully. She tries to warn her of what’s happening, but Scully, a skeptic to the last, doesn’t believe her. Scully tells Mulder of the encounter anyway, and Mulder describes having an overwhelming since of déjà vu all morning. As if to test whether or not he has free will, Mulder tells Scully that he will use the ATM, which turns out to be out of order. Mulder chooses not to go into the bank, and heads back to the meeting. Unfortunately Scully has left the meeting to look for Mulder and Mulder follows her… back to the bank.
“I have had it with these motherfucking time loops in this motherfucking bank!”
At this point Pam gets out of the car and tells him that she has been doomed to repeat this day, she has tried everything to reverse her fortune, but it’s obviously up to Mulder to stop it. Mulder hears shots from inside the bank and goes in with gun drawn. Of course the bank blows up again, but this time before it does Mulder repeats to himself “He has a bomb, he has a bomb strapped to himself” over and over again.

We get to repeat the day one more time. Mulder is in the bank looking at Bernard, repeating “He’s got a bomb, he’s got a bomb…” Mulder walks over to Bernard, lays his gun down on the counter, and tells Bernard he is a federal agent and to take the gun. As many times as I’ve seen this episode I still don’t understand why Mulder would tell this guy to take his gun, but whatever. Now Bernard has two guns, way to go Mulder, and he tells everyone that it’s a hold up. Scully enters the bank with Pam and tells him to drop the guns. He says no, of course,tuesday-watch.jpg and then there is the sound of sirens. I don’t know why this guy didn’t think they would trip the silent alarm, but again, whatever – I didn’t write this episode. Thinking he was betrayed, Bernard pulls the trigger, but Pam jumps in front of Mulder and takes the bullet. Bernard realizes what he has done, drops to his knees and is handcuffed. Pam is now laying on the floor bleeding, Scully calls 911 and with her last breath Pam tells her, “This never happened before.”One last time we cut to the paper hitting Mulder’s front door.

He wakes up, only this time (much to my dismay) he is wearing a shirt. He is also sleeping on the couch. He looks at his watch and we see it is Tuesday; Scully calls and tells him Skinner wants their report on the robbery. She comments on Bernard’s accomplice and of course Mulder says that he doesn’t think she was an accomplice, but that she was simply trying to get away. The last shot we see is of the newspaper that woke him, and its report of the events of the day…

As far as episodes go I would probably give it 4 Xs out of 10. It’s watchable, but really does get tedious towards the end. I also didn’t like the fact that it was never fully explained why Pam was meant to repeat the day over and over again. It gets points for shirtless Duchovny, but I thought it was really weak for a Gilligan/Shiban written episode. I also wasn’t a big fan of the Pam character; she was just a little too greasy and strung out looking. I understand that she and Bernard were down on their luck, but that whole unshowered look really got on my nerves. But I guess if I had to repeat the same day over and over again, I probably would say to hell with personal hygiene, too. I mean, at that point who cares.

x-files_intro.jpgThere are many stand alone episodes in Season 6 that are much better than “Monday,” but if you haven’t seen this episode I would recommend watching it. And if you have seen it feel free to leave your comments and opinions about it right here on The Sci-Fi Guys webpage. Mrs. X signing off.

So there you have it folks, our first ever SALUTE TO TIME LOOPS! Much love to and Sci-Fi Girl and Mrs. X who made this year’s Groundhog Day celebration bigger and better than it could have possibly been without them. Scroll down and give them some props – this I command!  And be sure to check back next Groundhog Day. You know, I have a funny kind of feeling we’ll be doing this again next year. And again, and again, and again, and again…

Comments Off on “It’s Groundhog Day!”

Jul 07 2012


Published by under Uncategorized

Ahh, Halloween. My most favoritest day of the year. I just competed in a pumpkin carving contest here at work. As the captain, I wanted to carve a decidedly evil looking pumpkin, but working in an office a lot of the other people were leaning toward the more cartoonish.

FUCK THAT. I don’t do cute on Halloween. Sure, if I was carving a pumpkin for some kids I would definitely go with the standard triangle eyes and jagged smiley mouth. But this was different. This was a bunch of adults in an adult setting. If it were up to me, I’d have made a whole Halloween diorama complete with fire and dripping blood and Freddy Krueger, Pumpkinhead, Pennywise, and Satan disemboweling Linus on a pagan altar in The Great Pumpkin’s patch. Then again, we had a 25 minute time limit, and I’m not entirely sure I could have squeezed all that in.

So I made a compromise; we’d do a cartoon character, Jack Skellington. But we’d do his angry face. I thought that would make a decent looking jack-o’-lantern. I found a good looking pic of Jack in a particularly bad mood, Photoshopped it for maximum contrast, printed it out, cut it up to make a traceable template, brought in some leftover glow sticks from my big Halloween bash, and got to cuttin’ me some pumpkin.

The guy to the right is Trevor, my carving partner. I’m loving the look on his face here; you’d think he was trying to cut through quarter inch tempered steel with that pumpkin saw. I don’t know what his struggle was, but I thought the little saws were doing a damn sight better than the steak knives I usually use. These little things were awesome. Trevor dressed up as “Carl Wheezer” from Jimmy Neutron. That’s me on the left dressed up as “guy who doesn’t need help carving a damn pumpkin but is forced to work with others against his will due to the requirements of polite office behavior.” Still, Trevor was a big help and was perfectly down with the spirit of pumpkin carving, so as partners go, he was a good one. You are still dangerous, Trevor, but you can be my wingman anytime.

There’s a glimpse of things to come. My manager wanted to display that we answer phones when there are computer problems, so, without my knowing, had already decided that whatever I carved would be wearing a wireless headset and have a cartoon speech balloon written on it’s face saying something “funny” about being techs. Despite the fact that this idea is beyond gay, it doesn’t in the slightest bit take into account that my pumpkin was clearly not in the mood to be speaking to anyone, except maybe to tell them how he was going to kill them. Nevertheless, I offered up the idea that, since its Halloween, the jack-o’-lantern might be saying something about the blue screen of DEATH (I emphasized to him that this should be in caps; if its good enough for Terry Pratchett, its good enough for me). So after the carving was done, he strapped a headset onto the pumpkin and started writing. Unfortunately, I didn’t look at what he wrote until after the pumpkins were judged. I was mortified. You have to see this to believe it:

Sreen. Sreen. WHAT THE FUCK IS A SREEN?!? Practically the whole IT division of our company was there for this event. People were there from outlying offices in different fucking states. I went to two different stores last night to find the right tools for this competition. I spent literally hours going through various online templates for carving jack-o’-lanterns, and, finding them all wanting, I eventually designed my own. Trevor, before I even got to work, had this thing cleanly gutted and ready to carve (you could clean the pumpkin out before the contest, but you couldn’t do any carving whatsoever until the whistle blew). We were finely tuned on the division of labor during the carving and never really got in each other’s way despite us both being very big boys carving a basketball sized pumpkin. Another guy in the office gave us a military issue glow stick from his brother in the US Army to bolster the ones I brought so we could really light this thing up. The one thing, the one goddamn motherfucking ass-raping nun-fisting Christing fucking thing the manager had to do – which should never have been done in the first place – is make this a tech-o’-lantern by putting a headset on it and writing something “witty” or “clever.” And what did we get? Fucking Sreen. Thank god our manager waited for an event that was being personally attended by every single person we work with and being judged by BOTH vice presidents of IT to reveal to the world that he can’t spell ‘screen.’ Jesus fucking Christ…

Needless to say, since our VPs presumably know how to fucking read, we didn’t win the competition. But here’s the pumpkin we ended up with. Not too shabby for a first attempt, a 25 minute limit, and a homemade, untested stencil. I’ll be honest, I thought ours was better than the ones that won, but after seeing the demonstration of our manager’s orthographic acumen, I can totally understand why we didn’t. The glow sticks, incidentally, are a very disappointing light source. We were incorrectly informed that we couldn’t have any live flame, so we used these. Of course, everyone else there had fucking racks of candles inside their pumpkins which were glowing like beacons from on high. Ours was a cool green color, but still far to dim for my taste. I wanted so much green light pouring out of this thing that people would be afraid of possible nuclear irradiation. But that didn’t happen.

By the way, if any of our readers work for the Pentagon and are in charge of purchasing, you’ll be interested in knowing that the glow sticks you get two for a dollar at any number of dollar stores this time of year are exactly as bright and long lasting as the ones you guys give to our troops in those very professional looking white mylar wrappers. Just thought you should know.

As weird as this may sound, I’ve fulfilled a long time goal of mine today. I finally carved a pumpkin on Halloween. I’ve never done that, despite always intending to. Win or lose, the pumpkin competition was great for that reason alone. I’ve had a great Halloween and I hope you out there did too. For all of us here at The Sci-Fi Guys,.


Jul 30 2010

Chris’s tribute to Drag Strip

Published by under Uncategorized

This is Drag Strip. He’s a Transformer, a Decepticon, a member of the Stunticons, and one of the most memorable little toys I’ve ever owned. Not only does he provide a much needed limb for Menasor and turn into a pretty cool little race car, but he has six wheels. Why does he have six wheels? Click the pic and I’ll tell you all about it.


I’ve had Drag Strip since I was a kid back in 1986, and I’ve always wondered about the weird 6-wheel design. I never complained about it, mind you. Drag Strip is one of the most unique looking of all the realistically styled Transformers, and his car mode is pretty fantastic. But as far as that realistic styling was concerned, I always thought he was kind of a cheat. There is no such thing as a race car with two sets of front wheels, right? All the other Stunticons were clearly modeled after real vehicles. Why was Drag Strip different? I mean, six wheels on a Formula 1 racer? What the hell is that about? Growing up I assumed that this was something the people at Hasbro had done to differentiate him from other race car toys. Little did I know that Hasbro had nothing at all to do with his very unorthodox, but very true to real life, design.

Transformers Trivia: Most Japanese Transformers, no matter their size, are sold in boxes. In America we would (and did) get Transformers this size on a printed card with a thin plastic bubble glued on. This is done to save on manufacturing and packaging costs, and also to make it easier for large scale American retailers to display the toys hanging on hooks rather than sitting on shelves. They’re usually not much more costly than the American versions, so if you can find some Japanese Transformers in their original boxes for a decent price, definitely buy them. They look spectacularly cool displayed among your collection.
All of the early Transformers were designed by the Japanese toy company Takara. As a matter of fact, most of the Transformers ever made have been designed by Takara. If it were possible for me to make love to an entire corporation, Takara would be the first one I’d wine, dine, charm, and disarm to get into those sexy little Japanese pants. They have made my life so much better than it would have been without them that I simply cannot imagine a world in which they never existed. It would be like asking a person who was born blind to describe what they imagine the color blue looks like. Its just not possible.

Try telling a deaf person about the wonder of a child’s laughter.
They’ll never understand. Why? Because they’re deaf. They can’t
hear you. Deaf people are terrible listeners.
But despite Takara’s awesomeness, even they are not ultimately responsible for Drag Strip’s very cool design. No, that honor goes to Tyrrell. Note the two r’s; this is not the same Tyrell that builds the Replicants. I’m talking about the the Tyrrell Racing Organisation, an auto racing and Formula One construction team. Then again, maybe they are the same company; there’s definitely some weird sci-fi-esque time displacement going on if their legal info is to be believed. According to what they’ve posted, their website was copyrighted in 1958. I’m no history whiz, but I am fairly certain that predates the invention of HTML. Inside their website things get even more confusing; they only have listings for events that took place in one of two years, 1971 or 2005. That’s pretty strange in and of itself, but its even more fucked up when you consider that the organization was sold off and raced their last race, the Japanese Grand Prix, in 1998. According to my research, Tyrrell ceased to exist after that. How in the hell can they have a 2005 schedule and racing team info? Somebody needs to call Doc and Marty to go check into this. Something’s not right.

Leading the racing world in impossible chronology since 2057.
Fortunately for Tyrrell their cars are better than their calendars. In 1976 the team set out to build a car with small front tires to reduce both wind resistance and drag. Smaller tires would have resulted in a loss of contact between the rubber and the road, making the a car far less maneuverable and a lot more dangerous. To compensate, their design was given four specially manufactured 10-inch diameter front wheels. A special suspension was constructed, allowing all four front wheels to be steered. Toss in one high performance Ford V8 racing engine, and thus was born the Tyrrell P34, the world’s most successful six wheeled Formula One race car.

Note that I said ‘most successful,’ not ‘only.’ There have been others, to be sure. There are always others, are there not? Even in a life as short as yours, other six wheeled race cars have been built. But my research, although admittedly inexpert, shows that the P34 is the only six wheeled Formula One that ever had two wheels up front. All the other six wheelers had two rear wheels designed to place more power on the road, just like the rear drive wheels of modern semi tractors do.

Non-Transformers Trivia: In 1948, the Kurtis Kraft-Offenhauser KK500G, better known as the “Pat Clancy Special,” became the first six wheeled car to compete in a Formula One race. The KK500G was a four wheel drive with power going to both rear axles. It was amazingly fast, but extraordinarily difficult to steer.
Unlike six wheeled cars made to deliver more power, the P34 was designed with two wheels up front to provide superior handling. And as well as it worked on paper, it proved to be even better in live races. The P34’s first race was the 1976 Spanish Grand Prix, where it proved to be very competitive. Driver Jody Scheckter went on to win the 1976 Swedish Grand Prix driving the P34, making him the first and only driver ever to win a Grand Prix in a six wheeled car. He is shown below driving the P34 on 31 July 1976; click the pic for a different image of the P34 in action, date and driver unknown. I didn’t put the linked image on the page because you need to see it full sized to get the details. It displays how the four front tires could grip the road even during high acceleration turns that lifted the P34’s rear wheels off the track. Pretty cool stuff.

So how did the Decepticons get their hands on the Tyrell P34 design? Simple, they stole it. It all took place in the 1985 two-part episode “The Key To Vector Sigma.” In what was the most wonderfully graphic display of the Decepticons utter disregard for human life, Rumble descends on a race track in the middle of a competition and snatches a car. What’s so great wasn’t that he threw the guy out of the car and into the oncoming race traffic. The really great part is that he picked the driver up by his fucking head. I remember seeing this episode for the first time at my grandparents’ house when I was a kid and I was dumbfounded. It struck me way back then that there was absolutely no way this guy could have lived. Even if the other drivers missed him, his neck was snapped. They could show whatever they wanted after the toss, it didn’t matter. Anything they showed to prove he was okay was done because there were little kids watching. I knew the truth. That guy was fucking dead. They just showed a Decepticon killing somebody, and to my 11 year old brain that could only mean that Transformers was the most hard core goddamned cartoon on this planet. That’s a big deal to a kid. Is there any doubt as to why I’m still a fan to this day?

Transformers Trivia: “The Key To Vector Sigma, Part I” debuted on 25 November 1985, but Formula One regulations outlawed six wheeled cars in 1982. Either Rumble stole this car from a non-regulation exhibition race or the Tyrrell racing team is pulling more of their time travel shenanigans.

Here’s the deal: Megatron, who was apparently on his period and not thinking his shit through properly, was all pissy that the Autobots had all the cool car vehicle modes while the Decepticons were stuck transforming into stupid cassette players and useless pistols. And, oh yeah, heavily armed supersonic fighter jets. Clearly the incredible advantage one would have with a force of nigh indestructible giant robots that turned into warplanes didn’t mean much to him. He wanted to rule the roads as well. So after stealing the P34 and a few other cars and converting them into Transformers, Megatron takes the mindless robots to Vector Sigma, the giant supercomputer at the core of Cybertron. Megatron has obtained the key to Vector Sigma, and with it to give them personalities and intelligence. Megatron did this presumably because he did not want the Stunticons to be mentally retarded like the Dinobots, whose minds were programmed by Wheeljack. Vector Sigma zaps the P34-bot with his purple Frankenstein lightning bolts, and Drag Strip is alive… IT’S ALIVE!! So what kind of personality did Vector Sigma give Drag Strip? Click the tech spec below to find out.

So if the P34 was awesome enough to win a Grand Prix and be made into a Transformer, why aren’t they still around? At the end of 1976 Goodyear stopped all research into making better high performance 10 inch tires for the car. Also, because Tyrrell was apparently run by low level managers and people with no clue as to how to leave well enough alone, they decided to tinker with the design and fix what wasn’t broken. And they broke it. The P34 was redesigned in 1977; the aerodynamics were better, but the car was wider and heavier than before. The added weight of the “improved” front suspension system lowered performance, and, along with Goodyear’s decision to stop making better tires, the P34 design was abandoned altogether for the 1978 racing season. And that’s how the sad, sad story of coolest looking race car ever comes to an end… almost.

In recent exhibition races, restored Tyrrell P34s running on newly manufactured Avon 10 inch tires have performed exceptionally well. In 1999 and 2000 the resurrected Tyrrell P34 raced on British and European circuits in the FIA Thoroughbred Grand Prix series. Driving Tyrrell P34 No. 6, Martin Stretton won the 2000 Thoroughbred Grand Prix. Click the pic below for oto6’s impressive Tyrrell P34 gallery.

Will there ever be another six wheeled Formula One car? Doubtful. Since its against one or more of the sixteen zillion anti-fun regulations enacted by the FIA and FISA to race anything but four wheeled cars in modern Formula One races, I hardly see why anyone would spend millions of dollars designing and building one. Seriously, you should check out this massive list of restrictions these racers have to contend with; I’m almost surprised there’s no rule against speeding. No, I think with a governing body this anal and clearly opposed to things that totally rule, the days of the very cool six wheeled speed machines are regrettably gone forever.

So what the hell is Drag Strip supposed to do? Sure, he can combine with the other Stunticons every now and then and be Menasor’s arm or leg, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s stuck in a vehicle mode from the 70s. Lots of other Transformers have been given updated vehicle modes reminiscent of their original designs. Hell, the Transformers: Binaltech/Alternators line is built on that very concept. But there are no modern equivalents to the P34. Its unique six wheel design is lost to high performance cars. There are no more six wheelers designed for delivering raw speed and racin

Comments Off on Chris’s tribute to Drag Strip

May 25 2008

Turkitron’s Returnification Part II, Redux

Published by under Uncategorized

Happy Thanksgiving, primitive ape-race.

turkitron01resizeTHOUSANDS of years ago, in the time when the oceans drank Atlantis, and the rise of the sons of Aryus, there was an age undreamed of. And unto this time came poultry, the creatures who were destined to wear the jeweled crown of Aquilonia upon their troubled bird brows. It is I, Turkitron, who alone can tell thee of the Turkey Saga. Let me tell you about the days of high adventure!

In the five million years following the Great Nebula Burst, the birds of Earth poultry were one people. But then came the Zactor Migration, and then the Melosian Shift. A dark period of discontent spread through the land. Fighting among Treeb sects and Largoths… ah, the foolishness. And it was in this time of dissension that Roth’h’ar Sarris of Fatu-Krey systematically hunted and slaughtered the Thermians from the Klatu Nebula. He tortured their scientists, put them to work in the gallium arsenide mines, and captured their females for his own demented purposes.

A favorite gladiatorial game of Roth’h’ar Sarris was COMPETITIVE VIRTUAL KNITTING BATTLE ROYALE GALACTICON. Many innocent turkeys met their grisly end in his arenas of electronic needlepoint, where they were cruelly forced to out-stitch one another… to the death.
And so it was thus that the poultry resistance was formed. Victorious in their struggle against the warships and centurions of the Fatu-Krey Space Armada, the once-unified bird armies split into the factions of righteous turkeys and twisted, evil chickens. The Great Bird War ensued, and from the ashes of the bones of a thousand slain fowl super-soldiers arose the most horrific product of unnatural chicken science, the unstoppable beast warrior from the moon known as the Gorgatron.

Desperate to save Thanksgiving from Gorgatron’s mad rampage, rogue chicken scientists in league with the turkey rebellion formulated a training simulation in the guise of an Earth video game called Moon Master. The turkeys distributed this game to seek out and find gifted warriors to aid them in their real-life struggle against the real-life Gorgatron, who had destroyed the turkeys’ armies and villages and people and all of their pets, and laid waste to their crops.

Still we turkeys await the coming of the Moon Master. I have traveled back to the primitive Earth year 2007 to ensure the future of turkeykind by protecting all turkeys which your pathetic child-race of hairless apes plan to consume on Thanksgiving. For one day, a warrior will rise from our ranks to light our darkest hour. And there can be only one. For the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one. And if you think I got that from Star Trek, you are dead wrong, mister

Last year at this time, on this very website, the entity known as “Mark” declared his intention to continue his turkivorous frenzy. This mad human boasted that he had consumed over 1000 pounds of turkey flesh in his lifetime, and made clear his plans to continue the horrific slaughter and digestion of turkey life. Witness as he flaunts his savage animal plans for universal turkicide:

Comments Off on Turkitron’s Returnification Part II, Redux

Jul 13 2007

Happy December 5th! It’s the Day Of The Ninja!

Published by under Uncategorized

In his never ending quest to seek out and review all the best and worst in ninja culture, Ruthless Ninja Assassin has graced us with the first of an ongoing series of articles concerning all things ninja. Click the pic to enter the shadow temple of the of the ninja realm, and read from the forbidden first scroll of “Is It Ninja?”… if you dare!

“The most honorable and terrible Ruthless Ninja Assassin-san has come to kill us all, and there is nothing we can do about it except for prepare our women and children as best we can by providing them with clean black silk upon which they may to be drying their imminent bitter tears of mourning, inconsolable regret, and everlasting sorrow.” – literal Japanese translation
I loves me some ninjas. Seriously, dude, I don’t care what form they take, be it toys or movies or comics or whatever –  ninjas just rule all over your shit. WITH REAL ULTIMATE POWER. It all started back in the 80s when ninjas hit American youth with a flying serpent snap to our hearts, minds, and piggy banks. I was hooked instantly. As a matter of fact, I can remember every little thing as if it happened only 20 years ago…

I was dragged along shopping with Ma Sci-Fi on one of her marathon efforts to single-handedly support the American economy by buying every last fucking thing we would ever need for the rest of our lives all in one day. We were exiting our local Zayre’s, and that’s when I saw him. A black-masked, death-fisted ninja warrior staring at me from behind the glass of a 25¢ prize machine. This thing was loaded with sweet ninja treasure; yin-yang medallions, little silver aluminum shuriken, little black aluminum shuriken, little brass plated aluminum shuriken, big yin-yang shuriken with holes drilled in them, you name it. But I didn’t care about any of that – I wanted what HE was selling. The big daddy prize. The one you know there’s only one of in all those little plastic prize wombs. The Maltese fucking Falcon of the Prize Machine… a giant sheet of holographic foil ninja stickers.

FUCK YES!!! You have to understand, this wasn’t some shitty little strip of paper stickers. It was a fucking NOTEBOOK SIZED SHEET OF LETHAL HOLOGRAM NINJA KILLING MAGIC FROM THE ORIENTAL DEMON REALM OF DEATH AND FIRE!!  Even as an adult I can’t pass up bragging to my friends about something like scoring a giant sheet of reflective ninja stickers for a quarter; as a kid, making a find like this had me feeling like Indiana Jones himself should call me up and kiss my fat white ass for unearthing something so awesome.  Ma Sci-Fi was never much into letting me or Frog Boy play those little prize games with her own money, which was kind of shitty and hateful in retrospect, because she never went anywhere without fucking $78 in change in that giant, thousand-pocketed black duffel bag she called a purse. No less than 100,000 bazillion times have I seen her pull fistfuls of receipts and tissues out of that thing, and EVERY SINGLE TIME, all manner of silver coinage would rain out of the wads of paper, scattering all over the coffee table and the floor, mocking Frog Boy and I, forcing us to remember all the times she refused to let us play Shinobi because she “didn’t have any change.” I think that was also the day I learned the word ‘bitch.’

I knew I wasn’t going to get those stickers. First of all, she was never going to let me anywhere near that machine, and even if she did, she would never let me have any cash for it. And if, by some fluke of the normal functioning of the cosmos, she were to look at me and remember how much she loved me before I reached that age where parents start to become uncomfortable with their own children because of the questions they ask and the things they remember, and in that moment of motherly weakness she were to let me have some small piece of her shoulder slung dragon hoard, I would only get one shot.

ninja.jpgIt was never gonna happen. I’d have to completely empty that damn thing to get those stickers. Before I turned into the adult who now doubts if a sticker sheet that big could ever be folded enough to fit in one of those little plastic bubbles, the child me was thoroughly convinced that somewhere, someone had made god damn sure there was at least one set of beautiful, sticky ninja goodness in that machine. Whatever organization or entity in the universe which was responsible for making sure everything was fair and equitable was on top of that shit, and woe be it unto he who falsely advertised. No, those stickers were in there, hiding. Like a ninja. And one measly quarter wasn’t going to find them.


I didn’t say a word. I would wait, biding my time, holding back my newly found ninja love until the perfect opportunity presented itself. And then would I strike. Already, I was becoming ninja.

Like most things as a kid, I was faithfully passionate about those stickers until roughly 14 seconds after they were out of my direct line of sight, at which point I completely forgot that there was a store called Zayre’s and that I had ever heard of ninjas. But the marketing psychics had heard the siren call of my brief but white hot ninja passion, and the next time I left my house, the powers that be had ensured that my love was rekindled and everlasting, and they achieved this blanketing every single square inch of North America with totally radical ninja flavor. And best of all, IT WAS ALL FOR SALE.

Seriously, there was a time when ninjas were ubiquitous. You couldn’t go anywhere without seeing some form of ninja product. Usually cheap and disposable, this crap was shoved at male children of the ’80s from every angle, and we fucking LOVED it. It was like all American boys my age had sworn a secret, unspoken oath that we would, within our lifetimes, ensure that ninjas replaced Jesus as the thing we dressed up to worship at church on Sundays. And we WORKED that shit, girlfriend. Ninjas were king, and if you didn’t like it, then you better watch out on the playground, because one of your classmates was going to do his best to put a cheap aluminum throwing star through your fucking eye. Let that be a lesson to you. You do not fuck with the ninja.

I never stopped loving ninjas, even after it became socially unwise to admit it. Like a ninja, I had to blend in with those around me, waiting until ninjas were cool again. Waiting… like a ninja. And now ninjas are BACK!

25 miles? Fifty bucks says this goober doesn’t last six feet.
Because ninjas by definition are sneaky as fuck, I do not know when they made their big return. It happened without my knowing, which is so awesomely ninja it almost makes my eyes bleed. All of a sudden, ninjas are just everywhere. That’s how they do it; one second you’re convinced you’re completely alone, the next second you are surrounded by ninjas, but not really, ’cause what you don’t know is that they’re all the same ninja, and he’s using his mystical ninja illusion powders to confuse your senses and render you helpless. I don’t know where I was going with this paragraph, but I think it sort of proves my point, which I’m pretty sure was that ninjas are all of a sudden the brand new hotness, again, and you’d better get the hell on the ninja bandwagon with all quickness before you take a flying death dragon razor-punch to the spine. Yeah, that was my point.

1654434067852.jpgSo here’s the deal: In celebration of December 5th, Day Of The Ninja, this will be the first of what I intend to be many  IS IT NINJA?  articles in which I will review sundry ninja and ninja-related things. My goal is simple: I will determine whether they are worthy of the name ‘ninja.’ I am, for those of you whom are not ninja enough to keep pace, using the word ninja in its adjective form; something must have an inherently ninja-like quality as well as be completely kick-ass sweet to be called ninja. There is no scale, and there is no subtle grading system; either something is ninja or it is not. If something sucks, it is not ninja. If something is totally righteous and incredibly awesome, but still not chock full of silent, powerful, lethal ninja goodness, then it is not ninja. That’s how it works. And if you don’t like it, then you are not ninja. You are a non-ninja, a nonja. And you’d best fucking keep it on the DL, because if a ninja hears a nonja like you running your mouth about anything at all, he will totally kill your ass.  ‘Cause he’s a ninja and that’s how we roll. Got it? Good. Let’s kick this pig!

#1 –  RealUltimatePower.net

You know before when I said I wasn’t sure when ninjas made their big return?  Well, I think I’ve figured it out.  As near as I can tell, ninja-mania was rekindled by Robert Hamburger and his totally sweet webpage Real Ultimate Power.  Its a place to read about how ninjas are totally awesome and flip out all the time, and they don’t even care! Is it ninja? Do you really have to ask? FUCK YES, ITS NINJA. Now go buy his book… or else.


#2 – AskANinja.com

If Real Ultimate Power rekindled the locomotive that is the current worldwide ninja frenzy, then Ask A Ninja is the musclebound coal man who keeps shoveling in the fuel. It’s just The Ninja answering your questions, all day, every day, taking time out of his killin’ to give you a higher nijucation. This site is totally ninja. Listen as he tells a tale from the ancient scrolls:


Comments Off on Happy December 5th! It’s the Day Of The Ninja!

Oct 21 2006

Chris Says Goodbye To Christmas 2007

Published by under Uncategorized

The jingle bells have stopped jingling, the hos have all been hoed, and the trees are either boxed up or thrown out to the curb. The holidays are over. And what are we left with? I’ll tell you what we’re left with – PRESENTS! I can’t believe nobody’s posted anything about this yet, so I’ll start. WHAT THE HELL DID YOU GUYS GET FOR CHRISTMAS??

My Christmas was full of outrageously fantastic sci-fi presents. I’ll pause for just a moment to let everyone get over their shock…

I’m still getting presents, so this list is not complete. As a matter of fact I just this morning received a HUGE box of Hallmark Star Trek ornaments and an original series USS Enterprise telephone from my half sister in California. It included the light up Galileo shuttlecraft and a Romulan Warbird. Combined with the sci-fi ornaments Ma Sci-Fi has been giving me for years, next year’s tree is going to be absolutely geektastic. And speaking of next year’s tree, I found my missing nine-footer! It’s another Festivus miracle!

2007 is the year I will always remember as the Christmas I discovered the enormous fun of Advent calendars. The LEGO calendar I wrote about elsewhere was, quite honestly, one of the highlights of my Christmas. I’ve never had an Advent calendar before, and I swear I found myself eager and sometimes even anxious to get home after work and see what little LEGO surprise I had waiting for me. It was so cool; it was a crystal clear reminder of how I used to feel Christmas Eve night when I went to bed. Some nights this year I got so excited I stayed up past midnight for no other reason than to open my new LEGO set on it’s proper day. Advent calendars are definitely something I will be doing again next Christmas.

The LEGOs don’t really count as presents because I bought them for myself. As for stuff I received from others, there was a distinct pattern to my gifts. Except for the Star Trek ornaments and a really nice shirt from Sci-Fi Girl, pretty much all my presents were TransFormers. That’s not a complaint, mind you. Its just the way things are when you’re me. I got a bunch of ‘bots from the new movie as well as another version of the DVD so I can finally finish my movie/DVD review that I have been promising since roughly the founding of the Roman Empire. I got a bunch of figures from the new movie which are good toys, but not so awesome that I want to go into it here. No, the most outstanding Christmas present this year is something really special.

“Hi, I’m Han Solo. I’m the worst TransFormer ever made.”
As some of you may know, Hasbro owns the toy rights to both Star Wars and TransFormers, and a couple of years back they combined the two franchises to produce Star Wars TransFormers, a title so astoundingly anti-clever that it almost defies description. Long story short, the various Star Wars vehicles transform into semblances of their pilots, so the Hoth Snowspeeder transforms into a robot version of Luke in his Empire cold weather flight suit, and so on. Some of these toys are just so-so, and some are outright awful. The Han Solo/Chewbacca Millennium Falcon was an incredibly expensive disappointment with truly awful head sculpts and easily one of my least favorite TransFormers ever. It was a joke. Since I bought it I’ve been nervous about making any major Star Wars TransFormers purchases, and they don’t get more major than this:

Frog Boy and Moose got me the mother of all Star Wars TransFormers, Darth Vader/Death Star. It is the biggest, costliest Star Wars TransFormer to date, and the one that makes me drool like Jabba. After being let down by the last two crap versions of Darth Vader’s TransFormer robot mode, I was far too gun shy to buy this toy. This is a big TransFormer, and I didn’t want to pay $50 just to get burned again. But, if I remember the story correctly, it was Moose who knew better after she saw this in the store, and she hooked my ass up. I know they’re supposed to be a pain in the ass and not get along with their husbands’ brothers, but I really ♥ my sister-in-law. This year she gave me the greatest gift of all – a TransFormer with an alt mod powerful enough to make an effective demonstration by testing this station’s destructive power on your home planet of Alderaan. And that’s what Christmas is really all about.

Along with Unicron and Primus, Darth Vader is one of only three large scale TransFormers to transform into a quasi-planetary form. To keep this sense of scale, these three toys are nice and big. Although Vader isn’t as massive as the other two in his Death Star mode, he’s a damn sight larger than most Transformers in his robot mode. They really made great use of all the available space inside his spherical space station mode to squeeze a lot of toy in to a small volume. And he has a shitload of those neat little features that made TransFormers one of the best selling toys of all time:

He comes with three little little Mini-Con TIE Fighters which can attach to him, and which also transform into a new TIE “mech mode.”
He comes with a miniature Darth Vader figure and three tiny Stormtroopers.
He makes sounds and lights up when you transform him or press a button – different lights and sounds depending on which mode he’s in.
When you swing his arm, a light in his fist flashes and illuminates his lightsaber while making the lightsaber sound.
His Death Star mode does the green flashing lights and firing sequence sound effects from A New Hope.
He has a cape. An honest to god CLOTH FUCKING CAPE.
The cape, the TIE Fighter Mini-Cons, his pistol, and all the mini figures all fit in storage compartments, making the toy very self-contained.
If this toy had a vagina I would marry it.

Darth’s tech specs. Nine? You’d think the Firepower of the Death Star would rank higher than a fucking nine. On a scale of one to ten I’d figure it was about a 35. Both Piranacon and Tracks have Firepower specs at 10. Looks like the ability to destroy a planet is insignificant next to the power of a Corvette Stingray, or a pink and purple robot made out of sea monsters. Anything with a fish theme, really.
There has been a long running internet debate over whom would win in a fight to the finish, the Death Star or Unicron. By “debate” I of course mean “feud of fiery assholes with below average mental faculties furiously typing unverified and opinionated information masquerading as facts to other assholes, all of whom seem unaware that, as a TransFormer, Unicron is inherently better than anything in the Star Wars universe, and any opinion that differs from mine on this matter is utterly incorrect, and any person who holds such an opinion should be forced to sponge bathe my vinegary scrotum after a month of not showering.”

Scale representation of the Death Stars and Unicron. Threw in the Moon, Phobos, and some other massive sci-fi craft just to illustrate the enormity of these structures.Click the pic to visit Jeff Russell’s STARSHIP DIMENSIONS, home of these images and one of the best sci-fi websites ever to appear on the internet.
There are actually several good reasons that Unicron would win this fight, not the least of which is that he is just plain faster. The Death Star had to wait for over seven minutes to get in firing range of the Rebel base after they were already right next to it. They waited long enough for the entire station to be destroyed by the second attempt of a one-man fighter firing two little proton torpedoes that shouldn’t even have been able to destroy a Y-wing (assuming both torpedoes impacted fully charged shields with maximum power allocation and, Jesus Christ, I am a fucking nerd). The Death Star may be an incredible piece of technology, but apparently the engineers who built the thing forgot to give it the seemingly simple ability to make a sharp turn. The time it takes for the Death Star to simply rotate into firing position would guarantee Unicron’s victory. The opening scene of TransFormers: The Movie shows that in far less than seven minutes Unicron had flown through a binary star system, devoured an entire planet and everyone on it, converted the planet’s mass to energy, and moved on in search of other food. All Unicron has to do is move just slightly out of range of the superlaser’s arc of fire and charge; the Death Star would be eaten before it fired a single shot.

Also, the Death Star is pretty large and therefore unable to hide itself, whereas Unicron is surprisingly sneaky for his size. He snuck up on Lithone without them knowing he was there until he was plainly visible in the sky. He snuck up on Moonbase 1, and it was a military reconnaissance post. Clearly he has some sort of cloaking capabilities the Death Star wouldn’t be able to compete with. He’d probably be able to sneak right up and start nibbling on the back of the Death Star before they base commanders knew what was happening. Let’s face it, no matter how you look at it, Unicron’s gonna kick the Death Star’s ass.

Now that this toy has been released, TransFormers fans can make their Unicrons and Death Stars fight each other all day long. Of course, not everyone is happy. I’ve heard a few complaints that this toy has red eyes. This has got to be the stupidest thing I have ever heard; it is obvious in A New Hope Vader does, in fact, have red eyes. The pic above shows that his red eyes are perfectly clear on VHS, and if I’m not mistaken I’m pretty sure I saw it on the newly remastered DVDs as well. They redesigned the eyes for Empire and made them black, but the original facemask had red eyes. Besides, black is the absence of light; there’s no way to make black eyes glow. And if you’re gonna give a Sith Lord light-up eyes, you’ll want to make sure they match his lightsaber. Sith Lords are nothing if not fashion conscious; they’re all about the color coordination, girlfriend.

So how about you? What present did you get his year that really stands out? It doesn’t have to be sci-fi; just tell us what your big Christmas score was.

Comments Off on Chris Says Goodbye To Christmas 2007

Dec 31 2003

The Sci-Fi Guys 2007 Holiday Extravaganza!

Published by under Uncategorized

I wasn’t going to do a Christmas celebration this year. Not at home, not in the office, not here on the site, nothing. Really. I’ve been so completely humbugged and pissed off by things going on in my personal and professional life that I was ready to say ‘fuck it’ to the whole holiday season. That’s why Turkitron’s article was so lackluster this year. I brought him down with my blue, blue, blue Christmas funk, for which I apologize. You could tell he just wasn’t himself. Usually he would have threatened to kill us all a lot more than he did.

A few days ago, just as I was about to write Christmas off as a total loss, I saw something so goddamned Christmassy and infused with irresistible holiday charm that I came alive like Scrooge waking up on Christmas morning and realizing the spirits did it all in one night. It was like Rudolph himself came to my house and shoved a double barreled candy cane full of holiday spirit right up my ass.

And here it is — my new Christmas train! Actually everything in that sentence is a lie. Lie #1: this is not my train. This is a picture the manufacturer uses to advertise the model of train I bought. But it’s exactly like mine. I just can’t show you because I haven’t taken any pictures of mine yet. Lie #2: this is not a Christmas train at all. It is colored like a Christmas train, and that’s how I will use it forever and ever, but actually it’s the “Grand Canyon Express” and nowhere on the box is anything even remotely Yuletidish to be found. Lie #3: here is not where my train is. My train is on a hardwood floor. This train here is in some sort of bizarre Photoshopped purple nightmare landscape from Beetlejuice. But you’ve got to admit, even when it’s chugging its way through the canyon of lavender lunar hellrocks, this is as Christmassy as a non-Christmas train can get without being considered a damn dirty lie. Come on, the locomotive even burns gold instead of coal. Gold doesn’t burn! Its a magical Christmas miracle! Santa be praised!

I set the train up in the smallest way possible, which is about a four foot diameter circle on my living room floor. That doesn’t sound that big, but it eats up a lot of real estate. Inside the tracks there was this huge encircled area just asking to be filled with Christmas cheer. It became clear that I was going to have to fill it. With a tree. And lots of lights. With presents underneath.

I own a Christmas tree. Actually, I’m fairly sure I own two of them. But I’ll be damned if I can find either one. Somehow, in the course of my frequent moves over the last couple of years, I have managed to lose one six footer and one nine footer. I’ve lost 15 feet of tree. How in the hell that’s possible I can’t tell you, but since I know that somewhere on this planet I have at least one full sized Christmas tree in storage, I refuse to buy another one. I’m just not going to do it. The cheap bastard in me would never let me live it down. But that train, that sweet, glorious G-scale Christmas train from Heaven, it was calling for, nay, demanding a tree. So I did the only thing I could in good financial conscience do. I got an el-cheapo four footer and a shitload of lights and ornaments at a local dollar store. Total cost: about $20. Too bad I don’t have any pictures of it, or I’d show you how fabutastic it is. But I do have pictures of this:

This is not my beautiful LEGO Advent calendar.
Oh, yeah! LEGO makes a number of Christmas sets, but none of them are nearly as ho-ho-hosome as the Advent calendar. If, like me, you were either not raised Catholic and/or are so completely irreligious that no respectable church would have you, you may not know what Advent or an Advent calendar is. Never fear; your friendly neighborhood Sci-Fi Guy is here to help. Advent is, in Western Christian churches, a period before Christmas beginning on the fourth Sunday before Christmas (in Eastern churches it can start in mid-November or even as early as September 1st, or so I’m told). It serves as a dual reminder of the original waiting done by the Hebrews for the birth of their Messiah, as well as the modern Christian waiting for the second coming. That’s the technical definition.

The common definition is a little more interesting. Later on down the line, the progression of Advent came to be marked with Advent calendars, a practice introduced by German Lutherans. These calendars were aligned and made uniform with Advent starting on December 1st. I know, I know; it may seem like a wild and crazy story – a bunch of Germans with absolutely no right to do so just assuming unbending authoritarian order over a religious group and assigning new values to old religious traditions based on their way of thinking. It’s a stretch, I know. But it really did happen. Pinky swear.

Nowadays Advent is basically just the entire holiday season leading up to Christmas. And while I know for a fact there’s a lot of crazy fuckers out there who really do have nothing better to do than sit around ignoring all the mistletoe and awesomeness the season has to offer while they count down the days until the world ends, I prefer the softer modern definition of Advent as a time of joyfulness and Christmas smiles. And red and green teddy bears who frolic and play in the snow as they dance with magical rainbow faeries in Santa’s elven workshop of love. And me using seasonal peppermint douche to gently cleanse my vagina while maintaining a natural, healthy pH balance. God bless us, every one!

My train inspired my tree, and my tree inspired my LEGO Advent calendar. Its a 2006 model that I got for $8 because it was old (although perfectly sealed up and unused). Since there’s no such thing as a LEGO expiration date, the cheap bastard in me was pleased to once again get a frugal Christmas bargain so late in the season. Like pretty much all modern Advent calendars, this LEGO version starts on December 1st and holds a little present for each and every day leading up to the 24th, which is the last day of the calendar. And like the train and tree before it, the LEGO Advent calendar has inspired me to even higher holiday heights. Like way high. Please welcome the return of…

We’re gonna have an Advent calendar right here on the site, Sci-Fi Guys style! From now on, there will be a new stocking stuffer every day, a sci-fi/fantasy Christmas present for all you good little sci-fi boys and sci-fi girls. And since I’m starting so late this year, I say fuck stopping on the 24th – we’re ridin’ this bitch straight through to Epiphany. That’s right, boys and girls, Santa Chris is giving you all a present every day from now until January 6th. So no more delays. Here’s today’s special treat!

Comments Off on The Sci-Fi Guys 2007 Holiday Extravaganza!

Aug 02 2001

Chris’s Big Halloween 2007 Wrap-Up

Published by under Uncategorized

Wherein I, with a heavy heart, bid a fond farewell to the 2007 Halloween season, and share with you, Loyal Reader, my deliciously evil plans for Halloween 2008.

I just want to say one thing before I kiss the beautiful thing that was Halloween 2007 goodbye…

Fuck Christmas.
I cannot tell you how god damned irritating I find it that all the stores I go to were crammed with cloyingly cheerful Christmas garbage before Halloween was even here. Sure, there’s a token Thanksgiving knick-knack here or there, but for the most part all the the wonderful Halloween evil had been replaced with aisle after aisle of red and green hand towels and various plastic Santa Claus figures that make loud noises and do something stupid when you press a button. There should not be a sleigh bell in sight before Linus hits the pumpkin patch on TV.

I’m not backing down on this, EVER!
I have nothing against Christmas. After Halloween, its easily my favorite holiday. But come on, this bullshit of shipping tons and tons of the same holly jolly gold embroidered trash year after year before Halloween has even had a chance to shine needs to stop. October is not the time for snowmen. Unless they’re undead snowmen from Hell and they’re rampaging around the woods with a machete and an axe trying to eat a sexy teenage girl’s eyeballs. Then they’re totally kosher. Otherwise, save the jingle bell, ho ho, happy, merry, cinnamon flavored, stocking stuffing X-mas crap for mid-November. October belongs to Halloween.

Last year about this time I told you about the big Halloween superstore that comes around every year that I’ve never been into. Last year on November 2nd there thriller.jpgwas a sign on the door saying they were CLOSED FOR THE SEASON. Inside was a ton of awesome Halloween stuff, all lit up with nifty flickering fake fire and flashing devil lights, all unreachable, all unbuyable, taunting me.

But I got mine. You see, after I wrote that I started hitting some of the other stores, the big 24 hour consumer mega-warehouses where night owls like myself are rewarded with clearance aisles full of the kind of crap they’re too busy to put out during the day. From perfectly fine merchandise in damaged packages to damaged merchandise in no packages at all, my late hours allowed me to scour northern Kentucky and find so much out of season Halloween merchandise for pennies on the dollar that, and I mean this quite literally, people think I’m flat out lying when I tell them how cheap I get stuff. I have so much Halloween decor and goodies that people thought I spent a fortune on my Halloween party, when they were mainly using stuff I’d found 10 months ago and had boxed safely away for the big day. If you plan on going absolutely Halloween batshit crazy like I will in 2008, I’d suggest hitting the late night stores in the wee hours of the morning RIGHT NOW and getting your hands on all the Halloween stuff you can while its dirt cheap. And you’d better get there fast, because if you don’t snag that stuff I will.

During last year’s Halloween wrap-up I explained that my Halloween lust is such that any product, no matter how flimsy or overpriced, simply has to be wrapped in packaging with lots of spiders and bats to make it seem so much more worth the price to me. I spoke of the down payment on the house I wanted to buy; now the house is mine and I have to think about the mortgage payments. I talked about saving up a little safety money, and another year of unexpected changes in finances has made that impossible. I complained about credit card debt and gas prices… I guess some things never change. I measure my years from Halloween to Halloween, so this is a time for me to look back at how life has gone over the past year. All in all, things are looking good.

evilinside2.gifI told you last year I was going to try to have a new article every day in October. I made no promises. I wanted to keep it fun for myself this year, and I did. Posting a new article every day is, if I’m going to be honest, a huge endeavor and more or less a complete waste of time. People just don’t come by that often. Most folks are used to our wordy-as-hell articles sitting out there for a few days, letting the comments section generate its own steam, then take off with a life of its own. When you’ve got 30+ comments on an article, you’ve got a good conversation going. A new article every day just doesn’t give that time to happen. And promising a new article every day, with the lengthy stuff that I tend to write, becomes very nearly an unachievable task. I could do it, but it would be a huge pain in my ass and would be no fun for me at all. The hell with that; I’m not going to turn my Halloween into something I won’t enjoy. That would ruin the whole point of a Halloween celebration in the first place.

I told you last year that I was doing a lot of work ahead so that when Halloween 2007 rolled around, I’d have the lion’s share of the work out of the way. And to my credit, I did. I took in an amazing array of Halloween flavored goodness over the last 11 months, and started a number of what I think are really great articles. Unfortunately, I used almost none of them. For one reason or another, other things kept popping up that I wanted to talk about, so all those articles I worked so hard on are still sitting out there, little lonely ones and zeros, all dressed up like articles and reviews, just waiting for their chance to shine. And although they didn’t get a chance to come out for their own trick-or-treating good times this year, next year they will get a chance to do their thing. Really, I swear. Probably.

killdozer2004.jpgSo what’s in store for Halloween 2008? First and foremost, all the shit I didn’t get to this year, which, by and large, is exactly the same shit I didn’t get to last year. Last year I promised you the following:

Mrs. X’s review of the first Addams Family DVD set
my review of the Addams Family movies
a Jack O’ Melon.
Mrs. X’s X-Files fanfic
all-new new pictures of puking pumpkins
my review of Wrong Turn
my review of Freddy vs. The Ghostbusters
my review of Killdozer
guest columnist DISTURBATRON’s Halloween article
an account of how Sci-Fi Girl and I constructed the perfect haunted gingerbread house
and my fair and balanced review of the worst fucking movie ever made, ever
To my surprise and embarrassment, I delivered exactly none of those things. To some degree each of them has been worked on, and a couple of the articles are damn near ready for publication, but I just didn’t get around to polishing them. And with Mark and Mrs. X supplying great reviews, I didn’t have to. Hell, I’m not even sure I’ll get to them next year; you never know what other stuff might come up we’ll want to talk about. There will almost certainly be more candy reviews, more pumpkins carved by the cast and crew of The Sci-Fi Guys, almost definitely some party pics, and Lucifer knows what else. So stay tuned for the next 11 months worth of sci-fi/fantasy articles and info, keep looking forward to October 1st, and no matter what you do, don’t… fall… asleep…

Thanks for celebrating Halloween with us!

Comments Off on Chris’s Big Halloween 2007 Wrap-Up

Nov 13 2000


Published by under Uncategorized

The truth of human nature is this: some people want to be rich, some people want to be famous, and some people want to be idolized. But how badly do they want it? In my first major project outside of The Sci-Fi Guys, I’m co-directing an independent film. The premise is simple; myself and my two accomplices are going to make three people movie stars… but not just any three people. We’re only taking the three people who want it the most. Interested? Click the pic to see how you can put yourself in the limelight.

“Living in the limelight, the universal dream,
For those who wish to seem.
Those who wish to be must put aside the alienation,
Get on with the fascination,
The real relation, the underlying theme…”
– Rush, “Limelight”

The bald head behind the camera in the link pic is my co-director Ed. He’s got film making experience. I’ve got television making experience. But we’re currently involved with another film that is breaking our will to be filmmakers. But all that changed when we hooked up with Carrie, the actress/radio host/psychic medium pictured below. Carries is one of the leads in the film that is trying to kill Ed and myself, and she is also the genius that came up with the idea for what so far has been the amazingly rapid realization of all our hopes to break big into the entertainment industry, BID The Movie.

The premise is simple: you are bidding on the opportunity to be in BID The Movie, a documentary about YOU. The stars of BID The Movie will be three lucky winning bidders on an eBay auction. Carrie, Ed and myself, camera and lights in tow, will embark on a journey to meet the three winners, document your lives, see interesting sites around where you live, the works. Not only that, but the movie is basically a road trip movie. We’re filming it all; from leaving Kentucky to arriving back home, the cameras will be rolling.

Really, we’re hoping this project will be an opportunity for any middle class American to be in a film of their own. This isn’t your chance to pretend to be someone famous, this is the chance to be famous for being YOU. Got an unbelievable talent to display? We want to see it. Got an amazing hometown, or just an amazing home to show off? We’ll be there. Your story will be the story of this movie. Your home is the set, and your hometown will be our location. You will be a star as a part of our ensemble cast comprised of our BID The Movie auction winners and our production staff. If you have a story to tell, WE WANT TO HEAR IT. Of course, your life story must be at least 18 years long for you to bid. Moms and Dads who want to tell the life story of their kids, that’s fine, but we cannot accept bids from anyone under 18 years of age, no exceptions. Sorry.

Since we’re on a tight schedule (we all have other jobs besides this film), we don’t have time to go very far. So we’re limiting the available locations to film in a 6-hour radius from Cincinnati, OH. Of course, the more you bid, the more likely we are to let those rules slide a little bit. In any case, the auction only lasts so long, and it was just posted today. So why the hell are you still reading this? Get your ass over to eBay and make yourself a star!

Comments Off on WANT TO BE A MOVIE STAR?