Movie Review: Super Size Me

Eat only McDonald's food for 30 days and see what the results will be. In Super Size Me, film-maker Morgan Spurlock does just that and the results are sickening and hilarious, creating a voyeuristic appeal that helps to drive this movie forward. The premise behind this independently made documentary grabs people so instantly that it has helped to make it incredibly popular in a short amount of time.

However, there is much more to this film than just the scenes of Spurlock ramming burgers down his throat and turning into a bloated, lethargic oaf. The film is mainly a look at the problem of obesity in the US as spurred on by the obscene amounts of money food giants spend on advertising as well as their influence over government policies through lobbying (i.e. more money.) Built around the 30-day schtick, it is an effective and engaging film.

Yanks are a nation of bloated slobs who keep cramming it in. The number of overweight yanks has doubled since 1980 and obesity now ranks as 2nd to smoking in terms of number of preventable deaths every year.

Because of the ever-increasing availability of inexpensive video equipment and film editing tools that can be adapted to a moderately priced computer, the documentary film genre is set to explode. Spurlock will serve as another motivator to every clod with a half-baked idea and some extra cash and time on his hands. The risk within the field of documentaries, and one that yank filmmakers seem ever prone to, is passing off contrived or staged events as reality in hopes of bolstering the popularity of the film. Get 'em in the seats and standards be damned. Likely some such term as "docutainment" has already been coined to describe the trend.

Spurlock steers surprisingly clear of this despite what the film's premise might suggest. Except for a vomiting scene that was probably induced, all other interviews and filmed interactions seem genuine. Bloated-hog-on-the-street interviews are as spontaneous as one could expect, and with Spurlock's wit, which is subtle and never mocking, there are some truly funny scenes. I also have to believe that the health effects of his month-long binge are real as documented by the 3 physicians who appear throughout. After the huge amount of publicity the film has received I am sure lawyers from McDonalds demanded verification of various health indicators as mentioned in the film under threat of lawsuit.

The surprise the doctors show regarding the sudden nosedive in the filmmaker's overall health seems authentic as well. During the month-long binge, his blood pressure, cholesterol and uric acid levels, as well as various liver indicators all sky-rocket while he bloats up in the process, going from a fairly healthy 185 lbs. to 208 lbs.

The film ticks along smoothly and this is a testament to the effort made during its filming and production. I suspect that Spurlock has studied film-making and the final product likely represents a year or more of work. He looks at the problem of obesity as driven by fast food giants from various angles including the addictive aspects, the insidious advertising techniques that hook children at a young age and even the booming subculture of fad diets. The white trash redemption fantasy no longer just includes drug and alcohol users. The fatsos are in on it now as well, with their own group of minor celebrities who have accomplished rapid weight loss and now are revered by other bloated fools who don't have what it takes to shed the pounds.

Spurlock has a knack for attracting freakish characters to be interviewed during the film...though yanks as a whole seem to be able to smoothly transition into the role of being in front of the cameras. It's almost as if they have been rehearsing their roles their whole life in case the opportunity arises. The rail-thin wacko who has consumed close to 20, 000 Big Macs and the manic son of a famous ice-cream maker are 2 in a range of interesting and entertaining interviews that are interspersed throughout.

Numerous clips in which Spurlock is followed into various McDonald's outlets by one of his partners who is filming the scenes, are hilarious as well. In the process they demonstrate the apparent requisite that to work for the peddlers of swill in the US you must be a swollen ox yourself. A strange contrast to Thailand where gorgeous women, often perfect tens, regularly staff the counters at various fast food joints. Again Spurlock shows a knack for thinking on his feet and often delivers a few subtle jabs that the po-faced slobs fail to catch.

There are plenty of interesting trivia bits and statistics doled out regarding McDonalds, including the fact that they control 43% of the fast food market in the US, have 30, 000 outlets world-wide and their own company jargon refers to customers who regularly frequent their restaurants as "heavy users."

While the graphics are often schlocky and amateurish, as would be expected, there are a series of what seem like original paintings that are shown momentarily as an introduction to various spiels on social issues, such as addiction that stem from the central topic of the film. Each one of the garish paintings features a bastardized, sinister looking Ronald McDonald appearing as though he is set to partake in some deviant activity. This is just one of the many nice touches that adds to the film.

The arrogance of McDonald's management and their failure to see this film as a looming public relations disaster is another enjoyable surprise, as Spurlock is casually brushed off no fewer than 15 times as he tries to arrange an interview with someone from their corporatre headquarters.

Even after viewing this well thought-out and researched documentary, the tendency of many will be the stock response to any serious effort to look at the underlying causes of obesity. Derision, mockery and assaults on the characters of those who don't have the will power to stop jeering their greedy mugs into the trough and slurping up pig-sized portions of unhealthy food. Any number of variations on "they don't have to eat there, eat as much...use some willpower ya fat bastids! etc." This attitude comes up a number of times throughout the film though never encouraged by Spurlock. He shows empathy for these people and his film makes a person think twice about piling on the poor fools who are destined to a shorter life anyway.

Looking beyond the simplistic explanations that make the rest of us feel superior seems to be a running theme throughout Super Size Me. In what is the most annoying aspect of the film, Spurlock's cheerful yet irritating girlfriend hectors him regarding the unhealthy side effects of his month-long experiment, culminating in a tearful and maudlin phone conversation after one of his final visits to the team of physicians in which the scope of his mounting health problems become apparent. Though choosing to make himself endure the marathon of self-punishment simply to make his film as authentic and intriguing as possible, in the process he demonstrates that despite the rankist, smug judgement of others, where we end up is not always down to superficial and dismissive reasons.

Book Review: The Da Vinci Code—by Dan Brown

It always pays to be skeptical about indulging in the latest pop-culture sensation, from the most recent Hollywood hype job to whichever tripe is being passed off as music and dutifully propelled into the top spot by the obedient masses. It may be somewhat harder to create a successful book where the actual quality of the volume does not back up that popularity, though inevitably it does happen. Within all the flotsam, it takes only a modicum of common sense to determine which segment of the population a particular book may be directed towards. Occasionally a book will transcend classes—including social, gender, genre preference and entertainment (i.e. the format which a person normally patronizes) and appeal to a wide and varied audience.

The Da Vinci Code is such a book. Released in 2003, it has steadily gained in appeal, exposure and overall sales.

After reading the book I can understand its success. The strongest things going for it are a compelling story idea backed up with loads of interesting, supposed facts, as well as a plot that, while cliched, keeps things ticking along quite nicely.

The protagonist is a yank academic expert specializing in religious symbols. A clever opening has the yank symbologist, Robert Langdon, drawn into the murder investigation of a top curator at the Louvre while he is in Paris to give a lecture. He is brought together with the other lead character, Sophie Neveu, who happens to be the grand-daughter of the slain Louvre sentinel. The last remaining elite member of a brotherhood that protects the Holy Grail from being discovered, he leaves a series of clues at the location of his death in hopes of leading Langdon and Neveu to the hiding spot.

A grizzled, merciless French police chief is after Langdon and Neveu once a contrived series of events ensure made-for drama confusion and an incorrect accusation against Langdon regarding the murder. In any such drama based on the race to find something, there are normally at least 3 interested parties in the hunt, and Brown employs the same tactic here. The 3rd seeker of the Grail is a bishop from the powerful catholic church group known as Opus Dei. With his freakish charge, a brain-washed albino giant, and help from an unknown "Teacher" who provides inside information and keeps the reader guessing as to who he is, the different parties are after Langdon and Neveu as they follow the series of clues left by the dead Loevre curator.

The parts of this novel that kept me reading were the instances when the main character had the opportunity to demonstrate his (the author's research) theories regarding the history of the church and their use of symbols in creating a story-line to be lapped up by the masses. The destruction of the feminine mystique as perpetrated by the church, is a running theme throughout the book, as well as how famous artists railed against the church through the slew of hidden messages and symbols in their work as a means to give voice to what they believed was the real story of christ without tipping off those for whom they were often commissioned to do work...i.e. the church. Another theory woven into the story is that it is a lie that Mary Magdalene was a whore when in fact she was (apparently) from a well-to-do family and thus was a perfect match for christ and also that she and christ had a child.

Behind the heretical (to the church) variations of history are the secret societies known as the Knights Templar, and the offshoot organization that is even more select and ethereal, the Priory of Sion, with supposed famous members through the ages including the likes of Leonardo da Vinci and Victor Hugo. The existence of the Priory of Sion is highly doubtful, but its claimed raison d'etre as laid out in The Da Vinci Code (and numerous other books, essays etc.) is keeping the Holy Grail hidden and protected and deciding upon its eventual unveiling at an historical appropriate time to do the most damage to the church.

Though I mentioned that the author, Dan Brown, seems to understand the use of plot, the twists themselves are absolutely fraught with cliches, as is the use of language. That he was obsessive about research and truly intrigued by the story idea is evidenced by the fact that the most compelling passages are when part of the theory that drives the story forward is being doled out by Langdon, when he is regaling another character with his knowledge. Handled in a less deft fashion, this book would be roundly dismissed as an awkward vehicle for a conspiracy theory. Because of the attention it has gained, many are of course doing just that, but it is also sparking countless others to casually accept the claims outlined in the Da Vinci code.

Brown employs a technique not uncommon in thrillers and mysteries, and that is leading the reader down a false path so as to set up various plot twists and unexpected eventualities. The problem here is that when the resolution plays out, the cryptic build-ups in earlier chapters in no way jibes with the benign reality that the reader is then asked to accept. Sinister organizations and insidious heartless characters are suddenly harmless as if it were all imagined. If the touches had been subtler, it would have been more acceptable with the framework established. As it is, it comes off as somewhat lacking in imagination.

With regards to the plot, it appears Brown makes a concerted effort to be formulaic. In fact, comparisons to an earlier novel with the same character show enough similarities to demonstrate that Brown makes no bones about his lack of innovation and instead seems intent on polishing his own tried formula. A quick check on the fog index* and other readability factors indicates that the prose style is certainly intended to appeal to as wide an audience as possible (a few samples show a fog index from 6.5-10, with most in the 7-8 range--exactly what is considered a level most palatable to the masses.)

While plot-driven, there is still an expectation of at least some character development but here they remain flat and undeveloped. In fact, I can't recall any tendencies or personality traits specific to the characters nor did I have a visual image of them in my mind's eye as I was reading--something that I normally find with most books.

The Da Vinci Code is simple to read, with a story idea that almost anyone from a western country will find intriguing. Whether you are a raging atheist or a gullible bible-beater, the society you have grown up in is part of Christendom. The influences of christianity on your own life and world view are almost impossible to deny. If you reject all that the church stands for, that denial and the opposite beliefs you hold are proof of the overarching effects of the dominant religion of any society. The allure of a hidden, secret trove of documents that could somehow bring down such a powerful organization or contain some never before fathomed truth that could alter the political and religious power structure of the world is also a concept that contains mystery.

Written in such a way as to appeal to as many as possible, Brown likely had visions of seeing the book adapted to the big screen and probably constructed it with that in mind. True to the puritanical mind-set of the US as a whole, the sexual tension in the novel is kept to a puerile level and only a few cutesy comments hint at any developing relationship between the 2 main characters, perfect for a cinematic rendition most acceptable to the masses---soaked with violence but free from any abhorrent sexuality. The movie is already in the works with big names from Hollywood certain to keep The Da Vinci Code a phenomenon for some years to come.

*Here is a site I found that allows you to upload any document or type in any URL and quickly obtain numerous indicators such as the fog index.

Murder Made for Metal

I can't say I was ever a fan but what a strange and pointless death suffered by former Pantera guitarist Darrell Abbott. Some lunatic rushes onstage during a performance by his new band Damageplan and puts 5 bullets into him.

I've only seen it mentioned in one article, but it is kind of weird that it occurred 24 years to the day after John Lennon was murdered in New York. The same number of bullets as well.

Years ago I was travelling through Spain and was in the northern town of San Sebastian when Pantera came through for a performance. A mate I was with eagerly rushed off to the show that night and praised it as one of the best he'd ever seen. I had just had my wallet nicked and lost a good chunk of cash and had to think forward to the coming days and so had to decline the offer to join him. He said it was the most unique concert he'd ever seen not least because of the fact that staff members associated with the band were passing or throwing hundreds of small cups with beer into the audience.

In the last 10 years or so I've passed up the opportunity to see 3 different famous rock performers only to see them killed a few years later; Stevie Ray Vaughn, John Denver and now Darrell Abbott. However, even if I'd known Denver was soon to buy it I probably still would have turned down the invitation.

When the shock of tragedy dies down it's at least certain to cement Abbott as a heavy metal legend. The emotion of it all might even push a few melodramatic sorts over the edge, the type who've been conditioned by years of cliched, tragic storylines...

He killed his parents as they slept. He bludgeoned them to death with an electric guitar. He then soaked himself in gasoline and climbed aboard his motorcycle, drove onto the freeway and set himself alight as he plowed head-on into a truck.

The Truth is Illegal

Almost to a person, expats talk about the strangeness of Thailand being a factor that makes it appealing to live here. The situation in the south has ratcheted up in the past few weeks to such a degree of insanity that things have moved beyond the standard Twilight Zone comparison and brought home just how ingrained an historical government structure remains despite claims of democracy. The result is a certain ham-fisted, brutal, blundering reality, replete with absurd denials and murderous rage directed at those who point out the continuing fuck-ups.

Fascist clowns and apes gulping fistfuls of acid and wearing simpering grins, their faces caked in shit as they become perturbed that anyone dares to mention the stench emanating from their fecal stained mugs. Hammering skulls into pulp and then claiming it never happened the way eyewitnesses claim, despite the availability of images that clearly show those who were present are telling the truth.

"Wha shud we do, wha shud we do my fellow simians? We're killing people and shrugging our shoulders. There's a group of criminals lobbing bombs on a daily basis but we can't put a stop to it, so let's vent our frustration and break some heads and kill some people at a demonstration.

Now we've got to deal with the fallout. The top pathologist in the land wants to help...get her da fuck outta here!

And to show the people what intelligent bags a shit us cunts at the top are we'll get down to some real thinking...how to stop this unrest in the south...what should we do? Thas it! Let's get every damn fool across the land to make paper fuckin' birds and then we'll dump 80 million of the fuckers from airplanes onto the southern provinces!

But the truth, the truth, waddawe do about that? We don't want no truth being uncovered! Let's just outlaw da fuckin' truth!!"

If it takes generations to change the mindset of a nation and those who are in charge, backsliding isn't fraught with the same time-related difficulties. It's interesting listening to those who respond to the people who are accurately describing the shadow of fascism that is darkening wackoland USA. They mock those who make the claims without even knowing what fascism is, nor understand that any theoretical description of any form of government rarely occurs in its purest form. But they seem to be relying on their Hollywood mind's eye to tell them that appropriately disastrous scenes aren't playing out before them so nothing really bad can be happening. That's the worst part...things pretty much carry on as before, until your face is the one that's being stomped on.

Book Review: Why I Am an Agnostic by Robert G. Ingersoll

This is not a well-researched, dry discourse that attempts to refute the religion of christianity. In its infinite logic and simplicity it demonstrates why that in fact is not necessary. In this brief and precise volume, the author, Robert Ingersoll simply points out the all-encompassing absurdity of every facet of the religion and the traits of the intractable moron who is the average christ lover.

The ridiculous fairy-tales. The unanswered criticism. Above all the stunning contradiction of hatred, revenge and promises of eternal damnation that thrill so many righteous scum while blithely claiming that theirs is a religion of peace and love.

There are multi-layered, complex attempts by highly intelligent individuals to provide well-articulated theses on the supposed truth of christianity. Pedantic tomes that require mental gymnastics to give them any sort of credence. There are just as many equally weighty responses. Aside from the potential entertainment value, Ingersoll demonstrates why they are not necessary. There is absolutely nothing in the bible or as preached by the religious fools that in any way jibes with the reality around us.

The most basic of questions directed at these intolerant bigots cannot be answered, only met with dodges and weaves. Anyone who provides a succinct and memorable demolition of the absurdities is not given a rebuttal, for one cannot be provided, but instead has their reputation shredded.

Religion appeals to scared individuals for whom logic is alien and it perpetuates that mindset. In their thinking, no moronic attempt to respond to the overwhelming evidence that obscures their antiquated fairy tale is beyond the pale. The presence of fossils that obliterate the ridiculous timeline proposed by the book these shitheads worship? Simple...they were put there by their supernatural vengeful deity so as to test their faith.

Ingersoll provides a personal recounting of his religious upbringing highlighted against his ongoing realization at how unbelievable the teachings of christianity were when questioned. Those who seemed most obsessive about the cult and became preachers seemed to be of a type. They all used the promise of eternal pain and suffering as the central aspect of their beliefs and attacked anyone who dared to question them. Get caught up in the morass of circular reasoning and fear-induced belief and all one has to do is open their eyes. This is exactly what Ingersoll did and he points to this as another factor in helping to eliminate any doubt he had that christianity was anything but undiluted horseshit. His studies and research in science, astronomy and the humanities provided him with the enemy of all religions...knowledge and the desire to question.

Ingersoll introduces an absurdity and then effectively piles on observation after contradiction to demonstrate what tripe it all is. Short sentences, staccato-like rhythm and repetition are all tools that he uses to drive home his point. In fact, Ingersoll almost seems to ape the mantra-like style that many down home preachers of his day likely used, and this would be in line with his clever approach throughout that is laced with mocking wit and irony. Far from adhering to a respectful tone, Ingersoll implements the only kind of language that can be used to counter such patent absurdity that has nonetheless convinced so many ignoramuses through the ages. A common conclusion that Ingersoll arrives at when trying to understand the thinking of those who preach, defend and worship christianity is that of insanity. Even regarding the asshole who helped to get the fucked-up ball rolling:

"We know, if we know anything, that devils do not exist-that Christ never cast them out, and that if he pretended to, he was either ignorant, dishonest or insane."

Together with the obsessive reverence many seem to show christianity because of the outlet it provides for their own sadistic feelings, another theme that runs throughout Ingersoll's piece is the almost universal condemnation by theses wackos of all that is most pleasurable in life.

Not only does the puritanical, controlling, shrew-like mindset of christ lovers demonstrate their warped view but it also seems to inhibit those artistic tendencies which result in the other-worldly rendering by the most skilled of writers.

Though a small sample, he highlights some of the writers who most affected him with their ability to deal with human nature, love and the beauty of women against the paucity of similar examples from the puritans as another demonstration of the skewed, self-punishing, just plain anti-all-that-makes-life-wonderful outlook, as another reason to dismiss these fraudulent control freaks and their load of shit. (One that Ingersoll cites is Shakespeare...a fair number of interesting articles on whether he was in fact atheist/agnostic.)

Though eviscerating the non-logic behind christianity, Ingersoll also touches on the utter lack of originality in its holy book, pointing out that the same basic foundations can be found throughout all religions:

"I concluded that all religions had the same foundation-a belief in the supernatural-a power above nature that man could influence by worship-by sacrifice and prayer. I found that all religions rested on a mistaken conception of nature- that the religion of a people was the science of that people, that is to say, their explanation of the world-of life and death-of origin and destiny. I concluded that all religions had substantially the same origin, and that in fact there has never been but one religion in the world. The twigs and leaves may differ, but the trunk is the same."

Though hardly an original thought, the simple articulation is indicative of what makes the entire book so enjoyable to read. In that simple telling a light is shone on the limits of man's mind, as incredible as it is in many ways. The vastness of time can never be truly grasped by us, all tears that are shed are ultimately of the self-pitying variety, all actions are selfish and all concepts of god in the end are only a deification of ourselves. The righteous scum who latch onto the vengeful image of god are of course ecstatic that their own feelings have been given legitimacy. When they invoke the name of god they are referring to themselves though they are so short-sighted and foolish as to not embrace the simplicity of that fact.

Ingersoll ultimately strikes a hopeful and positive note and never once, as the "agnostic" in the book's title refers to, claims to know the answers, only that those who do propose simplistic solutions are fools. That the fundamental questions of existence remain unknowable drives many into the arms of the dispensers of fairy tales with the caveat that they must also accept a degradation of all else in life that potentially holds wonder or the key to a worldly plane of pleasure that might never be fully quantified or understood.

However, more than one hundred years after the book was published and as we look forward to this new century that is certain to be mankind's bloodiest, Ingersoll may have been too optimistic:

"Nothing gives me greater joy than to know that this belief in eternal pain is growing weaker every day-that thousands of ministers are ashamed of it. It gives me joy to know that Christians are becoming merciful, so merciful that the fires of hell are burning low-flickering, choked with ashes, destined in a few years to die out forever."

That they can punish themselves during their one eternal existence is their own damn loss but the danger these clods present to others is reason to continually stand up to them and prevent them from further insinuating themselves into the governments of the world.

To obtain a free e-book version (in PDF format), e-mail me at: pistonhips@gmail.com