What Has Our Society Come To When March Of The Penguins Is The Blockbuster Hit Of The Summer?

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Vol 41 Issue 33

Rumsfeld Makes Surprise Visit To Wife's Vagina

WASHINGTON, DC—Amid rumors of sagging morale on the home front, Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld greeted his wife Joyce Monday with an unanticipated visit to her vagina, according to the Pentagon.

County Fair Judges Blown Away By Heifer

ELLENDALE, ND—Dickey County Fair livestock judge Bernard Hodelnutt called a heifer named Bessany "the sort of near-divine creation that inspired Zeus Himself to appear in the form of an amorous bull." "In all my years of cattle judging, I have never beheld such bovine perfection," said Hodelnutt, 52, who first encountered the 2-year-old Brown Swiss at the fairground's stock pavilion Sunday. "My fellow judges and I agree that we are unworthy of assaying such transcendent cowflesh. Our paltry ribbons and trinkets make meager tribute to this demigoddess, who should assume her place beside mighty Taurus in the heavens." After viewing the animal, Hodelnutt and the other judges cast their rating books and badges into a vat of boiling funnel cakes and cut out their own eyes lest they be fouled by the sight of less graceful beasts.

Angelina Jolie Coming For Your Baby

MALIBU, CA—Angelina Jolie has filed for adoption of your newborn baby, sources close to the actress reported Tuesday. "Angelina loves your baby, and you should be honored that she has chosen it," said publicist Jacqueline Silver, citing the growing collection of babies Jolie has culled from families worldwide. "Color, creed, whether your child is wanted—none of it matters. Angelina has fallen in love, and through legal means or force, your baby will soon be hers." Immediately after acquiring your child, Jolie will dress it in Betsey Johnson infant wear, give it a faux-hawk, name it after a random passage from the The Tibetan Book Of The Dead, then resume her relentless search for babies.

Calcutta Fire Marshal: Many Indian Homes Lack Bride Extinguisher

CALCUTTA, INDIA—Failure to own or use a bride extinguisher results in millions of rupees of property damage in India annually, Calcutta fire marshal Prasad Chandra said in a press conference Monday. "This tragedy occurs far too often when well-meaning husbands, attempting to collect on a dowry, ignite their brides indoors. The damage is often compounded when a burning bride attempts to escape and spreads the flames to other homes," Chandra said. "If you absolutely must burn your bride, avoid additional destruction with an affordable bride extinguisher. And, if possible, confine the burning to your backyard bride pit." He also recommended that homeowners install and periodically test marital smoke detectors.

New Pepsi Negative-220 Burns Twice The Calories It Contains

PURCHASE, NY—Joining a field already crowded with such non-caloric beverages as Coke Steam and Hollo Yello, PepsiCo announced the creation Monday of Pepsi Negative-220, a diet cola that burns twice the calories it contains. "You'll love PN-220 for the super-slimming rush of thyrotropin, PC1 enzymes, and that zesty hint of lemony leptin that zaps away fat, muscle tissue, and some nerve sheathing," PepsiCo spokesperson Ned Caen said. "But you'll drink it for that refreshing cola taste." Despite an FDA label warning of potential cardiac arrhythmia, renal shutdown, intestinal necrosis, and spontaneous erosion of the meninges, plans are underway to debut Pepsi Negative-220 in early October. "For radical and uncompromising weight loss, it's the cola," Caen said.
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What Has Our Society Come To When March Of The Penguins Is The Blockbuster Hit Of The Summer?

I've been a major Hollywood director for a long time, and I thought I'd seen it all. But I can't help wondering what's happening to the entertainment industry—indeed, to our entire society. Where are our standards? Our values? For fuck's sake—our cultural priorities? I simply cannot accept that March Of The Penguins is the big summer hit everybody's talking about. Hello?

It used to be that a summer blockbuster had to have brutal violence, sexy women, breathtaking action sequences, adrenaline-pumping high-speed chases—at a bare minimum, some explosions. But sitting through that penguin movie, I couldn't believe my eyes. Where were the big set pieces? Hell, this movie didn't even have sets! Has anyone ever heard of production values? It's one of the most vital aspects of the filmmaking art, and you don't get it by just showing up on an iceberg and filming whatever happens to be in front of you. Frankly, for real icebergs, they looked fake. This film is an insult to the great men and women who spend countless hours in front of computers creating incredibly realistic CGI icebergs.

Does no one out there care about these things anymore but me? Am I a lone voice of sanity crying out in a universe gone mad?

What kind of a world do we live in when a futuristic techno-thriller starring Ewan McGregor and Scarlett Johansson as escaped clones on levitating jet bikes doesn't outgross the shit out of a glorified Discovery Channel rerun? Don't people realize how much money I spent? How many people it took to bring that vision to the screen? Do people realize how many rewrites and punch-ups we went through? I paid my writers millions of dollars, and they were some of the best in the biz. You know who wrote their script? A bunch of birds.

Where was the villain? A story's not going to keep an audience on the edge of their seats without a strong opposition. Where was the second-act turning point? You've gotta have that moment when the hero's at the end of his rope and the bad guy looks like he's going to win it all. And where was the love story? Stars have to have real chemistry that smolders on the screen to make a summer blockbuster one to remember. Okay, the penguin movie had mating cycles, but that's not love. Is it all about sex to these animals?

Speaking of which, I think we can all agree that the penguins in this film gave some pretty wooden performances. In many scenes, it was impossible to tell them apart. Maybe if they'd moved the camera once in a while, I could have gotten more emotionally invested in what was going on. For Christ's sake, there was not a single crane shot in the whole movie!

I remember a day when the public appreciated fine cinema. In that lost age, it made sense that my important historical drama Pearl Harbor had a fighting chance for at least a special-effects Oscar. Best sound, no question. But now, in this crazy upside-down, topsy-turvy world, I hear that—guess what?—the only summer movie getting any Oscar buzz is a static, near-silent documentary about waddling, flightless birds!

These days, I guess old-fashioned values like "megawattage," "high-octane thrill rides," and "explosions" just don't matter anymore. Well, I call that a sad day for American moviemaking.

I'm busy in pre-production planning my next big spectacle (which no one will see because they'll be off watching a 10-hour documentary on park squirrels, no doubt). But if you are in the San Diego area, do me this favor: Go to Sea World, walk into the emperor-penguin exhibit, and punch one those fuckers right in the face. Tell 'em Michael Bay sent ya.

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