For those of you who still don’t have the MAD COWGIRL DVD, or just didn’t want to bother looking for hidden extras, the folks at Cinema Epoch just posted them to Youtube.
First, a special appearance by Jasper Boring!
Second, my interview with “James Duval”…
And finally, the masterpiece…an interview with Douglas Dunning.
The Big Carl must be doing pretty well (it’s certainly, consistently one of the top search terms that brings people to this site), because this officially makes it a trend — the Big Mac rip-off is the new mini-burger. Not literally; we’re talking trendwise. Tiny burgers were the hot new item on menus everywhere earlier in the year, but now, the double cheeseburger with a bun in the middle seems to be heating up, as Jack in the Box presents the awkwardly named “Bonus Jack.”
(See, to me that name makes me think of when you have a porno that’s so good you can go, uh, two straight rounds with it, the jack and the bonus jack. And now you, dear reader, have lost your appetite. I can tell. That might be a good thing, because I looked at the nutritional information on JITB’s website, and damn, it’s as bad as you think for most items.)
(Also, the abbreviation for Bonus Jack is BJ. But you were ahead of me on that one, right?)
The Bonus Jack combo is reasonably priced at $4, though you always gotta upsize at Jack’s, either to curly fries or stuffed jalapenos, a.k.a. LYT’s favorite fast food item ever that will probably induce a coronary one day. And the buns are cut-rate, in that they do not come bearing sesame seeds. But if you happen to hate sesame seeds and love this kind of burger, then oh snap, Jack has just won you away from Mickey D’s.
The Bonus Jack has one up on the Big Carl in the lettuce department. Shredded lettuce is far less unwieldy in a burger than the big chunk of iceberg Carl’s puts on theirs. There is, in the end, less lettuce on the Bonus Jack overall, but if you really love lettuce, you shouldn’t be eating fast food in the first place. Now, I know that picture above shows a big leaf, but I’m telling you, I got mine shredded. That picture above also shows pickles, which tells me that compared to what I had, the picture LIES! But even if the lettuce does come in a big green leaf, like on some other JITB sandwiches, it’s still better than the Big Carl’s Big Crunchy Chunk O’Leaves. I have no comment on the pickles.
The true bonus on this sandwich is more cheese. Though it all melts together, I’m fairly sure this has four slices rather than two. It feels like four, anyway.
The meat? It can stand shoulder to shoulder with Jack’s bigger burgers. Ever since they inadvertently poisoned customers with e. coli back in the early ’90s, Jack has enforced more stringent meat quality standards than most other burger joints, and it has paid off. This may be a bargain-item burger, but the meat tastes good.
The only area in which the burger disappoints is the sauce. Look at that picture above. The sauce is orange. Based on previous Jack offerings, you’d expect that orange = chipotle, because that’s usually how the chain rolls, as seen on their pita snacks and chicken ciabatta. Southwest chains represent, y’all. But no. This orange sauce tastes like a blend of ketchup and mustard, which makes me think they maybe should have just put ketchup and mustard on it in the first place, both of which they already have at hand, rather than inventing a new merged sauce that has to ship separately. Or just gone with chipotle.
However, most Jack in the Boxes are very generous with side sauces, vis-a-vis not charging you extra for any kind you want. So you can drown out the flavor of sauce you don’t care about for sauce you do with relative ease. You saucy lad, you.
Too bad the Bonus Jack is only available for a limited time. It’s probably less hard on my arteries than the Ultimate Cheeseburger.
The long-held truism about El Pollo Loco is that you should never order anything there other than the charbroiled pieces of chicken that are their specialty. Seriously, for a nominally Mexican place — nominally in that “pollo” and “loco” are Spanish words, and Spanish is the language many Mexicans speak — their burritos are an abominable misuse of the concept. The BRC (bean, rice, cheese) exists, I am convinced, solely so that chintzy employers can get cheap craft services en masse. Indeed the only occasions in the past decade that I have eaten a BRC were (a) at OC Weekly staff meetings, and (b) on the set of VIOLENT BLUE. In both cases the only alternative was eating nothing at all, an option that ultimately might have been more preferable.
As for the classic chicken burrito, even back when I was on minimum wage at the Sunset 5, I knew it was worth shelling out the additional coin to embellish it with extra cheese and guacamole, thus rendering it edible.
So now they’ve decided to try their hand at hot wings. It’s something they should be good at – their chicken wings are generally good, and they also know spicy — the spicy quesadilla at El Pollo is probably the hottest basic fast-food item I’ve ever eaten, save those chicken jalapeno burritos Taco Bell had for a very limited time two years ago. Not that Taco Bell tried hard, or anything — filling something with jalapeno slices is cheap and easy.
Anyway, it seems that the truism still holds. The Buffaloco wings, which are offered primarily as part of a $5 five-piece deal that includes fries, are a failure.
I’ll give them credit for one thing — unlike the hot wings at KFC, which are huge and undoubtedly comes from chicken on ‘roids and hormones, these wings are anemic things, about half the size of the ones you see in the official advertising picture above. And of the five I got, four were lower-wings rather than drumettes, a karmic payback for all those places that only do drumettes. I happen to be a lower-wing dude, myself.
And the “Buffaloco” sauce — really? This was the best you could do, o crazy chickenmeisters? The jalapeno sauce that comes in ketchup-like packets would have been better than this, which tastes like barbecue sauce mixed with Tabasco. Buffalo sauce should not be sweet; almost by definition, it has to be sour. And yes, I’m sure I didn’t get the barbecue option, which I’m fairly certain is the usual EPL barbecue sauce (good for what it is).
I will add that it’s been nigh on ten years since I’ve had fries at El Pollo, but I remember them being very distinctive, big and browned with an almost baked flavor. These fries were tiny and tasty, an improvement while being somewhat more generic, with less personality.
Mitigating this visit was a chicken soft taco I ordered that was so overloaded with filling and salsa that it nearly collapsed in my hands. Good taco. So maybe the exception that proves the rule.
Don’t order the Buffaloco. Get regular wings, and put the jalapeno sauce on them. Better plan
Some of you may remember — actually, I hope most of you will, or else you might have a brain disorder — about two years ago when Taco Bell revamped its value menu with a bunch of new items. One of them was the double beef and cheese burrito, made with ground beef and nacho cheese, sold for 89 cents with the idea being that it was competing with basic cheeseburgers sold elsewhere for a similar price. And it had double the beef of a regular beef burrito!
What you may not have noticed is that it recently, quietly disappeared from the bargain menu. And shortly thereafter, these showed up:
The same burrito, with one or two added things from the existing menu, justifying a price hike. I’d love to tell you how much of a price hike, but Taco Bell’s infuriating website only gives prices for the value menu, and not regular items…as far as I can tell. Search for yourself to try and prove me wrong if you wish. My recollection is that these are about 50 cents more. And yet they’re not better.
Half a pound of food sounds like a lot. A half-pound burger is big, right? Yeah, but that half-pound is just the meat in the burger. These burritos weigh half a pound TOTAL. They aren’t actually that big for burritos, even fast-food ones. Think about Del Taco’s half-pound bean and cheese burrito. It only feels big because there’s only so much bean paste a guy can eat at once.
I’ve now tried two of these three new ones — the combo burrito seemed superfluous, since it’s just a slightly bigger version of a beef and bean burrito, and anyone who has eaten at Taco Bell in the history of the chain can easily imagine what it will taste like.
So I’ve had the nacho crunch burrito and the cheesy potato burrito, and both have the same major deficiency – not enough nacho cheese. This may be in part because I don’t like sour cream, and order the burritos without it. But in doing so, the final product becomes too dry.
Especially the potato one, good lord. It’s been years since I’ve had a Taco bell breakfast burrito, but I recall it having tater tots inside. I was hoping they still used them, but like everything else at Taco Bell over the years, the chain is cheaping out. These are just square cuts of frozen potato covered in seasoned salt. because the beef and the nacho sauce are not salty enough, apparently. And like your average pre-frozen steak fries, they have a texture like ashes and sand. And they appear to be the primary ingredient, at least in the one I had.
Mileage may vary, a lot…because looking at the picture, I see that the nacho crunch burrito looks to have tomatoes in it. Mine didn’t. So maybe reviewing it isn’t totally fair, but service is a part of the deal. Tomatoes would have added some needed texture and moistness. The red tortilla strips are the opposite of something for nothing — nothing for something. A tasteless, pointless addition to any menu item except as a means to pointing out that something has a lot of ingredients.
I ordered a volcano burrito not long ago and they didn’t put any volcano sauce in it. It occurs to me that overall, the Bell has not been exceedingly competent lately in the training of employees. But at least they don’t use those oval, easy-to-drop trays any more.
I can’t recommend these burritos, mainly because I think Taco Bell’s ground beef is so cheap and nasty that it needs to be consumed with ingredients that sufficiently disguise the flavor…like volcano sauce. But if they want to put together a chicken burrito with nacho cheese — and given that in time, Taco Bell inevitably comes up with every possible combination of its core ingredients, this is an inevitability — I’ll be all for that.
Dear fellow male critics, I just don’t understand you sometimes.
Hating on a movie in which these two lovely ladies make out in extreme closeup? Really?
I hate to be presumptuous here, but is everyone dissing this movie just so lucky in love that they’ve never had a boner they didn’t know what to do with? So picky that you find flaws with the way Megan Fox looks? Or just at such an intellectual remove that movies are always assessed by the upper head, and disassociated completely from that secondary one in your pants?
Gay male critics are excluded…as one of them specifically pointed out to me via Twitter…but y’know, I don’t care much when Aaron Eckhart takes his shirt off either, and yet I noted it in my review of LOVE HAPPENS because I get that it’s one thing people will like if they’re into dudes.
If you intellectualize JENNIFER’S BODY too much you won’t like it, because I don’t think everything in it actually makes sense. If you go just to have fun, I think you’re the kind of audience member the filmmakers wanted. Are you ready to cheer when Megan Fox eats some dude’s guts and then struts away to heavy guitar strains in the soundtrack? No? Jeez, when did everyone start sounding so OLD? I may have a handful of white hairs in my beard these days, but I still like it in movies when shit blows up, people get gutted, and chicks get me hard. Why do I feel like such a loner on this score?
So let me cut to the chase. Does Megan get naked? Not exactly – you can see more of her nude body just by google-searching for those leaked set photos. But with rear shots of her skinny -dipping, ample cleavage, and non-nipple-proof shirts, there are enough pieces here to put the full mental picture together. As for Amanda Seyfried, just side-boobage…rent ALPHA DOG if you really wanna see something from her.
But the movie is also honest about sexuality in ways others or not…I cannot offhand think of another horror flick that so blatantly deals with the very real awkwardness of a guy fumbling to “put it in” for the first time. Or that’s as open about the occasional issues of orientation-confusion,as per the Kinsey scale. Is it doing them to a serious, point-making end? Not really, but it helps ground things in an emotional reality, even as the story is clearly not set in a particularly realistic world.
Then there’s the whole issue of the “trademark” smartass dialogue by Brook “Diablo Cody” Busey. I’m loath to actually cry sexism on this one, because she did milk the whole stripper/suicide girl image all the way to the bank. (Can you imagine a guy boasting about his male-stripping exploits and riding THAT visual to the top of the Oscar chain? I’m having trouble doing so.) But there does seem to be a hatred for Brook that isn’t apparent for, say, Joss Whedon, whose teen-speak rings even more like a smartass older dude imagining what kids say.
I wasn’t fond of the “home-skillet” stuff in JUNO. And I said so when JUNO came out. It’s out of my system. Assess each movie by itself, sez me. And I have far less problem with hipper-than-thou phraseology coming from the mouth of a bitchy, too-perfect cheerleader we’re meant to hate than from a sensitive pregnant chick we’re supposed to adore. It is, we must note, not up to the standard set by Daniel Waters in HEATHERS (full disclosure: I know Dan and like him, and think SEX AND DEATH 101 is pretty astute about the LA dating scene) — “You’re lime-green jello and you can’t even admit it to yourself” is no “Fuck me gently with a chainsaw.” But the mere fact that it’s aspiring to be in the same ballpark deserves a pat on the back, I think.
(To be fair, though, I sometimes think “Diablo” doesn’t always realize that certain lines work better on the page than actually spoken. “Why does it smell like Thai food…were you guys PHUK-ing?” only works as a visual pun where you can see the joke in the spelling.)
Amanda Seyfried plays a character named Anita Lesnicky, which can be easily abbreviated to “Needy Les”…the first part of that is her nickname outright, the rest just not-so-slightly implied. We begin the movie with her in a mental institution as she flashes back to events involving Jennifer Check (Megan Fox, finally unleashing the smart mouth we’ve only seen in interviews until now), which I think is the movie’s biggest mistake, as it tells us right off the bat who survives and what the general outcome was. It also provides an excuse for unnecessary voice-over, which allows Brook to overindulge. Yet we should not forget that the actual director of this flick is Karyn Kusama. I haven’t seen her GIRLFIGHT, which clearly played around with gender roles, but I did see AEON FLUX, which is half-brilliant and half-terrible…JENNIFER’S BODY is more like an averaged score versus AF’s high-highs and low-lows.
Needy and Jennifer have a psychic connection that I don’t think is ever explained, which is arguably the movie’s second biggest mistake, though if this were a Japanese movie it’d be matter of fact, like in RINGU, where some characters are psychic just because (wise move not using that in the U.S. remake). There are flashbacks to the two of them as children playing in a sandbox, and one of them gets cut and the other licks the blood…but last time I checked, that doesn’t make you psychic. Then again, last time I checked, accidentally sacrificing a non-virgin to Satan doesn’t turn her into a virtually unkillable succubus either. And yes, that’s what happens to Jennifer.
Said sacrifice occurs after Jennifer and Needy go see a big-city band at a local dive bar, and the place ends up burning down, killing many. This proves to be the springboard for a whole subtext invoking 9-11 and societal reaction to tragedy, both real (a “9-11″ beverage features two side-by-side shot-glass “towers” filled with red, white, and blue liquor) and unreal (the way mounting body counts in slasher movies often traumatize a community far less than analogous real-life murders would). As part of a pact with Satan, the band milks the tragedy Toby-Keith style with a tribute song.
What they don’t realize is that their sacrifice is now back and hungry…Jennifer needs to eat people or she’ll become ugly (“ugly for her”). And Needy, having the psychic connection, feels every murder and tastes every kiss. It flows both ways, and badly, when Jennifer starts feeling Needy’s desire for the same boyfriend, the hapless Chip (Johnny Simmons). Or is Jennifer just being a bitch? Li’l o’ both, probably.
Plus there’s that makeout scene I mentioned upfront. HOTT.
Overall, it’s very reminiscent of all the horror I used to watch on HBO in the ’80s. Stuff like The Blob remake, Brain Dead, Texas Chainsaw Massacre 3, House, The Horror Show, Pumpkinhead…I don’t think it’s trying to subvert that kind of movie, which is what people seem to have been hoping for. It’s trying to BE that kind of movie. Yes, the characters now have cell phones, and the band is emo rather than hair metal, but Seyfried and Simmons are still too impossibly, unrealistically beautiful to be the school nerds (not to mention school nerds rarely get laid, except in movies). No, it isn’t an especially frightening movie, but its casual attitude towards acts of depravity makes for a weirdly disturbing, detached atmosphere that I like. And this is the sort of movie that expects you to appreciate a Lance Henriksen cameo.
It is indeed an odd contradiction for a scribe of ironic dialogue to try and craft a movie that’s so non-ironically genre…and yes, there are some kinks that could have been ironed out. But JENNIFER’S BODY first and foremost is meant to be FUN — fun for high-schoolers, not detached intellectuals — and on that score, it’s a winner.
In the ongoing debate about health care, right-wingers who don’t want the government involved consistently point to the post office as an example of how terribly the government runs things.
Now, I’m not gonna pretend that I like lining up with my package to France, the week before Christmas, when there are only two clerks on duty. Nobody does. But in general I’ve had an okay time with the post office. And it’s like night and day — or rather, like my socialized medicine surgery in Ireland versus my private appendectomy here — when compared with the Postal Service’s most prominent private competitor…UPS.
I live in an eight-unit apartment building that has no call-box, and a curiously useless doorbell stuck behind a metal door such that it cannot be accessed by anyone. When the delivery guy, public or private, comes by, I have to be able to hear the knock if I want to catch him. If it’s in the midst of a heatwave and my loud bedroom fan is on, this will not happen. Naturally, I get a lot of sticky notices pasted to my door, and this is going to become far more common as movie-awards season begins.
If I miss the mailman…I can walk a few blocks to my nearest post office. If it’s after 6pm that day, or any time thereafter, I wait in whatever line there is, turn in my card, show ID, and get the package.
If it’s UPS…well, today it was UPS. Let me tell you how that went.
I called UPS once I got the notice. UPS does not like you talk to either an actual human being or your local UPS office. You can fool them on the former by saying “customer service” into the phone, even though the robot voice doesn’t tell you that’s an option. Anyway, via the robot, I tell UPS to hold my package for pick-up, sort-of assuming that in a major city like this, they must have an office near me (I know FedEx does). The robot tells me I can expect a call back within an hour to confirm.
Over an hour later, nothing. called again. Said “customer service,” and I actually got a human. Hooray! But a human who was powerless to do anything for me except put in ANOTHER request for UPS to call me within the hour.
A little over an hour later, they did. I could pick up my package at their warehouse in downtown LA. But only between 8:30 and 9:30 p.m.
I set out around 8. And made the mistake of assuming that the directions on the UPS website were accurate and up to date. They’re not. There are medians that keep you from driving straight when you are — according to UPS — supposed to. After a couple miles in the wrong direction, I figured this out.
The UPS warehouse is a whole city block in the ass-end of downtown. And the customer service area feels a lot like a hospital waiting room. It’s dingy, and people look poor and unhappy.
You’d imagine that turning in your slip with its tracking number would be next. But no. They give you a yellow post-it and make you hand-write your name and address. Then they take it, and don’t necessarily help people in the order received.
Ten minutes after it looked like they were doing nothing, my name was called. I responded.
“We’re looking for the car,” the guy said. “We don’t know where he parked it.”
So they know what van my package is in. What they don’t know is where inside their block-sized building said van has been left. Shouldn’t there be some sort of system, ya think?
Twenty minutes later I had my package.
Now, under capitalism, the idea is that companies that don’t work well or deliver good service will not make money, and fail. Here’s the problem with that in UPS’ case: Big companies like to use UPS. It’s convenient for them. I don’t know the nuts and bolts of why, but it seems to be so. That it is not so convenient for us recipients matters not one whit, because we don’t spend near as much money on UPS services as corporate clients.
Is it maybe possible that the same is true when it comes to health services?
Post offices have their issues, at times. UPS, however, is an issue almost all the time.
It occurred to me yesterday that Michael Moore movies actually have a lot in common with Tyler Perry movies. Both lure the viewer in with the expectation of some comedically righteous outbursts from a funny fat person, in order to ease you into a far more depressing story about suffering people, with the end goal being to convert you to the director’s philosophy — Christianity in Perry’s case, populist liberal activism in Moore’s.
So it probably comes as no surprise that, as predictably as Madea yelling, “I KNOW you did not just say that to me!”, CAPITALISM: A LOVE STORY has the familiar greatest hits: Moore and camera crew trying to get into GM corporate headquarters and others, a routine by now so familiar that the security guards are all prepared for him, and he knows they know. There is the inevitable visit back to Flint, Michigan, where Moore and his dad look at the land where the GM factory once stood. And just as in ROGER & ME 20 years ago, Moore focuses on the way a bad economy leads to evictions and foreclosures. It isn’t until later in the film that he explains just why these people are being kicked out of their houses, by which point he has sufficiently undermined a skeptical viewer’s cynicism. In most cases, it seems that these people used their homes as equity, unaware of all the hidden fees involved in such loans. Granted, you could say it’s their responsibility to read up on that stuff first. But does the lending company have no responsibility whatsoever to ensure the buyer knows about the risks, or to not arbitrarily jack up the rates?
Moore sees such things as endemic to capitalism, and part of the case for eliminating it altogether. In some ways, this is his most bipartisan film yet — Bush Junior and Reagan take their lumps, but Democrat Chris Dodd probably gets it the worst for his hypocrisy in “regulating” companies that give him sweetheart deals. And lest we forget, the movie reminds us that the stimulus/bailout that has all the teabaggers mad at Obama was begun under Bush, though I note with some amusement that a new meme with righty bloggers who once supported W in lockstep is that he was never truly conservative and they actually didn’t agree with him much at all! Obama doesn’t get a ton of grief here, but seems to be mostly because the film had to end sometime.
But even if you are relatively alert to all things political, there is useful information here that you probably didn’t know, most notably the existence of “Dead Peasants” insurance policies — life insurance secretly taken out by big corporations on their more vulnerable employees in the hopes they will die and pay out big for the bosses. Wal-Mart can thus make hundreds of thousands off somebody’s death, and not have to pay the family one cent for the funeral (Wal-Mart recently gave up this practice, according to the end credits). These policies are perfectly legal, even though, unlike most insurance, they are given to people who have a vested interest in cashing in.
Trotting out various Catholic priests to say that capitalism is evil isn’t necessarily persuasive, but does make the case that Christianity isn’t all that compatible with mass profits; for cheap laughs, Moore redubs scenes from JESUS OF NAZARETH with right-wing talking points, a joke shamelessly cribbed from Al Franken’s book “Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell them.”
A major goal seems to be to try to explain economic theory in terms that won’t bore people to death; to this end, Moore tries to get various bankers to explain, in simple English, what derivatives are, and none of them can. Now, could he have found someone who could? Perhaps. But even if these people are the only ones making a living from derivatives who cannot explain them, the point is still made.
There’s thankfully little obvious grandstanding — I happen to think the Cuba section of SICKO vastly undercut the seriousness of the valid points it was previously making. Of course patients will be treated well in Cuba while the cameras are rolling, and I’ll bet they’d have gotten great treatment in an American hospital as well if the same cameras were at hand. You can disagree with Moore and still find material in CAPITALISM that’s thought-provoking.
And the part where I can’t quite go is the step from “capitalism is an easily abused system” to “capitalism must be entirely abolished.” Moore’s proffered solution is democracy, but even if the workers own their own factory, they’re still going to want and need to make some sort of profit, no? Regardless, in a media world in which moderate Democrats like Al Franken are presented as fairness and balance to far-right whackjobs like Glenn Beck on the talk shows, it’s good to see an actual far-left — i.e. left of the Democratic party — voice get out there into mainstream discourse. Real balance isn’t Hannity and Colmes, it’s Hannity and Moore.
Agree or not — and in the interests of full disclosure, I’ll note that I agree more than I disagree — Moore’s voice broadens the debate in a vital way. And the long-lost archival footage of FDR that gives the movie its climactic punch indicates that we came oh so close to having all that stuff like health care that we still have to fight for today. Moore claims this may be his last documentary…if so, he’s going out on top.
As I write this I don’t know where the subject will take me. The older I get the more sure I am that I really know hardly anything. I’m trying therefore to see what I mean when I say: “I know”. I suppose there are just a few things, plain historical facts about which I truly can say: “I know”. For instance I speak with some confidence when I say that I’m 86 and was born in Oxford in April 1923. I’ve seen enough evidence to convince me that those are plain facts. I know they are true. In the same vein but with a little less certainty I can say that I know my mother had passed her 100th birthday before she died.
But what about more remote history? Can I really say that I know Julius Caesar invaded this country in 55 – or was it 54 B.C.? More importantly from my personal perspective, how much of what I read in the New Testament do I know to be historically true? I, like many others, used to speak about “Gospel truth” Once upon a time I believed that everything in the Gospels was accurate historical fact. Now I can no longer believe that. Gospel truth means something quite different. For me today what it means is that the essential Gospel message is both true and enormously important but most of the details of what was said and done are as liable to be mistaken as any other ancient document.
I hope next month to wonder about what it means to say: “I know what you mean.”
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Peter Graham (e-mail peter.graham[at]bucklandnewton[dot]com)