Pop Culture Blog: Music, Movie and Humor

Leveraging low-hanging synergies outside the vertical fruit box since 1999.

You Can’t Teach An Old Crustacean New Tricks.


in Canadiana

The mystery surrounding Amelia Earhart‘s disappearance has always fascinated me, and about 6 months ago I watched yet another British documentary on the subject. It was so detailed, and the team of investigators so thorough and technologically advanced, that I thought for sure we’d seen the last serious attempt to find out what happened to her over 70 years ago. But the same persistent team is back with a brand new strategy – pig bones.

“Kar Burns, one of two anthropologists on the team, hopes coconut crabs native to the island – some as big as 2½ feet across – will carry the pig bones to wherever human bones might have been taken by crabs. DNA from human bones could help solve the mystery.”

So the hope is that these monstrous crabs, probably living much the same lives their ancestors did in the 1930’s, will crawl sideways across said pig bones – I assumed fitted with some sort of tracking bug – and take them back to their lair. When the lair, den, pile or whatever it is is located by the anthropologists, it may also contain the remains of Amelia and her navigator. Definitely the coolest thing I read today.

On a side note, look at this (or any) photo of our girl. If Hilary Swank isn’t asked to play her in the inevitable biopic, she might as well make another movie about a paraplegic female boxer. It’s easy to get typecast in Hollywood.

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Potato Gun 101.


in Veekend Video

Sundays have been known to drag up here at the lake, and it’s important for me to keep my father as stimulated as possible. Over dinner Friday night at a pub in Portland, I asked him if he’d be interested in making a movie about his beloved potato gun. He smiled broadly and I knew I’d just have to start shopping it to the major studios.

Sunday morning we got a bag of spuds, a can of hairspray and headed down to the dock. Filming took about 10 minutes while editing took several hours. I’m getting up to speed with the software though, and I dare say this will probably be the first installment of a Gordo franchise. Even to those who don’t know my Dad, this is probably going to be extremely funny. Enjoy.

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Canada Day Debacle.


in Heartwarming

For the long awaited Canada Day 2007, which is like the… 160th anniversary of the day the loyalists grew a pair and declared a Dominion (horribly inaccurate summary), I did a number of very patriotic things. When you live alone in a house for two months, like one of the kids from Flowers in the Attic, having your only sibling and several of your best friends in the same house for a long weekend is a little exciting. Throw in a boat, fireworks, some liquor and the birth of a nation – and we’re talking 6-year-old at Christmas excited. Here are the highlights.

1. Worked on Operation Bunkhouse for exactly 1.5 hours in 4 days.

2. Got so pinted one night that I didn’t get out of bed for the entire next day – again, whilst all my friends whom I was longing to see were here.

3. Continued to aggressively not work on the bunkhouse.

4. Provided one friend with so many patriotic punches to the ribs that he eventually retaliated with a full cup of beer to the lap.

5. Emotionally scarred a 10 month old border collie.

6. Wrote and sang at least 17 new songs whilst liquored, including such nouveau favorites as “Who’s Gonna go to the Truck and get some RedBull?”, an acapella cover of “Jump Around” and the timeless “Who Wants to go to the Gazebo and Have Drinks?”. I believe Sully has extensive video of the wonderful additions to the modern musical canon, so stay tuned.

7. Paid an extortionate amount of money to have satellite internet installed which has gone down about 15 times so far. Lightning has a very negative effect on the weak signal, as do dragonflies farting near the dish I have to assume at this point. The best part is, I got to climb a 24 foot ladder and cut down all the branches on the tree for the guy who installed it. Maybe there’s a voucher in the mail.

My gallery is here, and Sully’s should be up in a few days at which time I’ll add another shameful link. Thanks for making the trip to everyone from Boston and Toronto – it meant a lot to me, and my parents had a great time in spite of me channeling the ghost of Brendan Behan for two evenings straight.

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Call Me Vincent Vega, Eh?


in

Vincent: You know what they put on French fries in Holland instead of ketchup?
Jules: What?
Vincent: Mayonnaise.
Jules: Goddamn.
Vincent: I’ve seen ’em do it, man. They fucking drown ’em in that shit.

I’ve been in Canada for almost 7 weeks now, and I’ve been keeping a mental checklist of the “little differences” that I’ve noticed to date. Although I’ve spent a lot of time up here over the last 33 years, I haven’t been fully immersed like this in over a decade. Here are some subtle little day-to-day observations I’ve been collecting.

1. Condiments: Vinegar and gravy are available absolutely everywhere. Swiss Chalet sauce is making a bigger impression on me than bathtub meth. You never have to ask for ketchup.

2. Traffic: Is awful. Toronto traffic is at the levels that LA is famous for. An enormous, sprawling city of highways and overpasses. You can traverse the 401 to the North, or the Gardiner Expressway to the South – but either way, unless it’s between 2am and 3:30am, you’re sitting bumper-to-bumper for hours.

3. Traffic Laws: You can turn right on a red light. Some States (Florida, etc.) allow this but it’s a no-no in Massachusetts. I love it. I get back little snippets of time that make up for some of the traffic jams.

4. HBO Surprises: One of the first things I did when I got up here was figure out which of the cable channels was linked to HBO so I could be sure to see the last episodes of the Sopranos. The channel in question is called MMX, and their programming is quite unique. You have all your first run blockbusters during the day, but as soon as the clock strikes 11pm Harry Potter and the Prizoner of Azkaban is replaced promptly by Saving Ryan’s Privates. I’m talking full-on, hardcore pornography on a channel that five minutes before might have been showing Entourage. It’s simply fabulous.

5: Pizza: Canadians don’t know what a cheese pizza is. I think ordering a plain pie must be some sort of taboo which is done in private clubs in North York. Bacon is a big seller. As is BBQ sauce, feta cheese, sun dried tomatoes, hamburger and my new favorite topping – green olives.

6: Tattoos: Everybody has one.

I’ll keep adding to this list as I notice more of them. Feel free to chime in.

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Urban Skittles.


in

Let me just preface this post by saying – at this day in age, if anyone did this to me, my friends or a member of my family I would chase them down and beat the fecking piss out of them on the street. Luckily, the show in question is filmed in Europe where people don’t sue you for belching in the same elevator as them.

In addition to its citrusy-flavored, strangely tasty, candy brand association, Skittles is an old European sport, from which Ten-pin bowling, Duckpin bowling, and Candlepin bowling in the United States, and Five-pin bowling in Canada are descended. I don’t usually copy and paste so blatantly from Wikipedia, but there was no way I was prepared to capitalize so many words in a sentence after 3 cans of Canadian.

Urban Skittles is the name given to one of the many urban sports invented by a character called ‘Neg’ from the worthwhile British comedy show, Balls of Steel. It involves running into a public place, usually a fast food restaurant, and screaming at the top of your lungs to “get down on the floor!” For every pedestrian who drops on their face, you get a point. I really don’t want to laugh at this. My second favorite Neg scene is definitely Big Stranger Rodeo.

There are roughly 12 recurring characters of which Neg is just one. If you liked, or were repulsed, by the Urban Sportsman you’ll also want to check out Bunny Boiler (a cute woman who blatantly hits on men while they are with their girlfriends), the Annoying Devil (a guy in a devil suit who spreads dog poo on crosswalk buttons), and Mr. Inappropriate (a dude in a suit who whacks off in variety stores, among other things).

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