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Posts Filed Under Zero Tolerance

Reasons I Have to Leave My Book Club

Filed Under: Zero Tolerance

“Bruce Marr just posted a comment for First meeting!

‘Another thought about Other Voices, Other Rooms. Capote’s 
complex figurative language and religious allusions give the 
narrative a sense of cosmic, or metaphysical significance. For 
instance, near the beginning the landscape is described as 
looking if it were under the sea. Another work of literature 
which has this “metaphysical sense” is Moby Dick.’”

Enough said.

 
kira

8:43 AM on July 20th, 2010 | 

Posted by kira

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Who Let The Dogs Out? (Good One, I Know)

Filed Under: Zero Tolerance

michaelvick

If only.

Here’s the thing: I eat meat. In fact, I love meat. I couldn’t care less what’s in a chicken nugget, so long as it’s appropriately crispy and served with honey mustard. I’ve never thrown red paint on a white fur coat; I’ve never broken into an animal testing facility to free would-be trial subjects of the latest Revlon product. I’m an animal lover, with a single cat (who will surely be the springboard to my long and fulfilled life as Cat Lady Extraordinaire) but I’m no extremist.

So it’s with at least a teeny tiny bit of objectivity that I say I am phenomenally offended by the Philadelphia Eagles’ decision to sign Michael Vick. For those who don’t follow football, or news (and in fairness, this is one of the few times RA has even touched upon the great wide world of professional athletics), Vick is—like so many of his professional football peers—a criminal. But unlike most NFL players, the 29-year-old has never done drugs, or driven drunk, or slapped an uppity stripper. I mean, he may have, but his 18 months in jail were the product of a 2007 conviction for conspiracy, and running a dogfighting ring. Read More ›

 
kira

11:15 AM on August 14th, 2009 | 

Posted by kira

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News: So Credible These Days

Filed Under: Screenshots From Kira's Television, Zero Tolerance

dscn0715-450x337

I’m still not sure if the burglar is a ninja or if someone burgles ninjas.

 
kira

12:37 PM on May 9th, 2009 | 

Posted by kira

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The Loyal Customers Of Brand Obama

Filed Under: Zero Tolerance

Humans are largely fickle creatures. For instance, when I go to Taco Bell, I often have a fiercely embattled inner dialogue over whether I should get a chicken quesadilla (I’m pretty sure the critical ingredient here is the nectar of Mount Olympus drizzled all over the fucking thing… well, it’s either that or jizz) with a couple heavenly soft tacos on the side, or just fuck the whole quesadilla idea and eat as many soft tacos as I can before throwing up.

After all, Taco Bell soft tacos are the closest thing we have to mass-produced, processed, and completely inauthentic Mexican candy. And if I’m celebrating Mexico’s prized exports, I don’t think I’d be too fickle in choosing a soft taco over, you know, fucking swine flu. Sounds nice though, it’s just not my thing… you know, dying young.

Obama gazing pensively at JFK's portrait

Obama gazing pensively at JFK's portrait

Today, friends, I’m concerned over the Obama mania that has struck much of the nation, particularly in light of his hundred days of solitude and all that shit. He’s likable… too likable… I almost want him to be my dad. And I think it’s very easy to become swept up in the celebrity of him, his beautiful family garbed in gorgeous designer clothes, and their kind of retarded looking dog, and just how much better in probably every way possible he is than the previous president. Remember, it wouldn’t be all that hard to do better than that, and we need much more than that in these TETs (tough economic times). To say nothing of all the other catastrophes waiting in the wings.

And yes, it was very easy to be critical of Not-My-President Bush, but I think we need to remain critical of our country’s leaders always. We are adrift on some perilous slopes, and we are looking to this new administration to guide us back to base camp 1 — but what if they feed us to Yetis for a whole ton of cash instead? Think about it. Remain vigilant, and all that shit. Not trying to preach, just sharing some food for thought.

Granted, you could do a lot worse, considering the Republicans of late have turned into a frenzied pack of wild, God-fearing dogs. And wild dogs aren’t the cute, kinda dumb kind that hump your leg at a party — no, their feral counterparts are more like mangy wolves, with scary, relentless barks, that will bite at your jugular if you give them the chance. I think I’m still making a Republican party metaphor here but I kind of hit a penny and derailed a bit… I’ve been watching too many nature documentaries lately.

…”Too many” — hah! Can you believe you’re getting this kind of comedy for free, people?

 
aaron

4:19 PM on May 2nd, 2009 | 

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Captain Planet

Filed Under: Movies, Zero Tolerance

Long has Disney pilfered the coffers of classical fairy tales and folklore in order to fund their empire of unadulterated, marketable glee. But now they’ve set their sights on a more modern fairytale of sorts to inspire their latest docudrama, where all the animals die and the children in the audience develop deep-seating psychological issues by the end of the film. The only difference this time is that James Earl Jones will be providing the narration, as Morgan Freeman reportedly declined due to his ongoing post traumatic stress disorder treatment following his work on March of the Penguins.

The new movie in question is called Earth, and the source material it’s shamelessly appropriating is not quite a fairytale so much as a groundbreaking, Emmy-winning, six-part megadocumentary — born when each individual episode combines to form a unique and awe-inspiring whole, sort of like a more naturey Devastator, of Transformers fame and lasting nerd-joke legacy. Anyway, the documentary in question is called Planet Earth… you might have heard about it. Or seen it on the Discovery Channel; in fact, I’m pretty sure it’s currently filling their entire programming schedule.

Earth vs. Planet Earth

Now, like any good outraged blogger with nothing to do on a Saturday afternoon but complain and smoke the half-burned remains of last night’s good cheer, I did my research. Apparently, Earth is, more or less, a feature-length version of Planet Earth… which seems a little retarded as Planet Earth was nothing if not lengthy. In fact, in this case, “feature length” means about 30% the length of the original material, making Disney’s latest excuse to drag all your whining kids to the movies no more than a watered-down CliffsNotes of its predecessor, and without Sigourney Weaver’s soft caress sending chills down my spine at that.

Frankly, I don’t see any reason why Earth should even exist, short of some Disney execs figuring they could make a whole bunch of money with relatively little effort, considering it uses the same fucking footage reedited and repackaged under the guise of family-friendliness. You’re going to have to do better than Darth Vader to get me in line for this one, Mickey fucking Mouse.

 
aaron

2:04 PM on April 25th, 2009 | 

Posted by aaron

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Donkey Kong Sucks, Mortal Kombat Rules

Filed Under: Zero Tolerance

Video Game NerdOkay, this is getting out of control. No… it’s gotten out of control. We should have never allowed this to happen, hell, to encourage it. So yes, we deserve this… just as we will deserve getting our brains bored out by android gray matter collectors.

To be clear, I’m speaking about the ol’ FB. Indeed, last night, my helpful news feed alerted me as to this… development. This was someone’s real, actual status update. For all to see. For FB to remember forever.

Additionally, certain sections of the following text will be in bold type; this is because they made me cringe and thank skateboarding and sex for finding me before it ever got this bad.

1) I feel that Final Fantasy X is the best game overall in that they have seven well-developed characters and a battle system designed well enough to need all of them. Whereas in other games of the series I would stick with one primary party, the dynamic “hot-swap” was both necessary and pleasing. The story is the game’s largest asset, hardly breaking from the serious, morbid nature while maintaining great instances of foreshadowing. This also has one of the few final bosses that I actually lost against initially. I would also say that this has the second best ending I’ve ever seen. Finally, this is one of the few RPGs I’ve seen recently where the antagonist is introduced early and often, allowing the story to develop it well.

2) Chrono Cross is one of the few games with branching stories, with two moments in the game where you can choose 3 or 3 paths, respectively. Characters are a weakness and strength, as the characters they choose to develop are great and conflicted yet there are too many Suikoden-like fill-ins. Other strengths for the game include the secret way to beat it (can’t say any more than that) and the extended concert scene, which demonstrates that an RPG is about more than battling.

3) The game that single-handledly saved the genre, Final Fantasy VII had a great story, great characters and one of the most scarring moments of my life. This used to be #1 for a long time, but it earns penalty points for introducing the frequent minigames habit that would ruin the series for several games (and perhaps still does). To many, including myself, VIncent is the best optional character in any RPG. The soundtrack is both famous and outstanding, which really enhances the mood of several scenes. This game has held up well over time, despite the confusion that Cloud’s past has created

4) Tales of Symphonia has my favorite optional scene ever, one which dramatically changes the perception of a main character and gives new understanding to several scenes of intrigue that occurred previously

Dude knows his video games, that’s fo’ sho’. And don’t worry man, I lost initially to the boss in FFX too - NOT PLEASING.

 
aaron

3:04 PM on April 18th, 2009 | 

Posted by aaron

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Merci Bocu

Filed Under: Music Reviews, Zero Tolerance

UGKFuck the catchy songs.

Getting a song stuck in one’s head is an interesting phenomenon, as it does not necessarily depend on the song being technically good. I mean, remember Bubba Sparxxx? Yeesh. Or better yet, “Hollaback Girl” — that shit was auditory terrorism.

That said, having a predilection for hip hop, you find yourself often at the mercy of a pretty retarded song with a savagely infectious beat. Specifically, I have most recently been bitten by UGK’s newest release, UGK 4 Life. I mean… the title kind of says it all already. Like, I seriously think this shit might be stuck in my head for the rest of my life.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I ain’t beefin’ with nobody. Pimp C and Bun B are talented as hell and UGK very well could be the best Southern rap has to offer. The beats are a veritable bouquet of organs, guitars, bass and other live instruments, pleasantly reminiscent of a time when hip hop’s heavy use of funk samples gave it a little more soul than Kanye’s GarageBand experiments. Nonetheless, the lyrics are… well, they’re typical of the Dirty.

The most sinisterly catchy song on the album features, of course, Akon on the hook. Despite the fact that the song’s instrumentation is fantastic, and Pimp C and Bun B’s verses are hot fire, I’m really beginning to remember why “The Sweet Escape” was so god damned annoying. It’s really hard to concede to the dark power of a chorus like this:

That girl she got me, the way she movin’ in place
Bendin’ over, spreadin’ eagle, all that ass in my face
She got me hard as hell
Got me pokin’ like a nail
She got me hard as hell
I can’t control it, can’t you tell baby?

In fact, why not just listen to it? You know I be havin’ that hook up.

Yeah, just try singing that to the delight of a packed Brooklyn train car. I can’t wait. But by all means, get the album. I love it, and I’m pretty sure it’s turning me into a misogynist — but after all, misery loves company.

Ron Isley’s on a track, does that help?

 
aaron

3:30 PM on April 11th, 2009 | 

Posted by aaron

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Chill Out

Filed Under: Photography, Zero Tolerance

The weather in the Windy City of late has been reasonably tolerable, which means little in a place where a few short months ago we were graced with -20 degree icy farts that Jack Frost routinely blew in our faces whenever we stepped outside. Nonetheless, it’s still a bit too brisk to convincingly call it “Spring” — in fact, I feel almost as if Winter is sadistically dangling its successor in front of my face, a juicy morsel of hope hovering just out of a starving man’s reach.

Photography by Aaron Hatch

Fuck the April showers, just gimme my mother fucking May flowers.

Photography by Aaron Hatch

Here’s the simplest Q&A ever conceived:

Q: Should I live in Chicago?
A: No.

 
aaron

3:34 PM on April 4th, 2009 | 

Posted by aaron

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ShamOw!

Filed Under: Zero Tolerance

Here’s hoping the ShamWow is as good at absorbing blood as it is with household spills.

The face of ShamWow, and of a night well spent

The face of ShamWow, and of a night well spent

Vince Shlomi, that all-too chipper and potential meth-addicted hawker of the magical dishrag, is going to be needing a few of his voodoo-infused towels to dab up the remains of his tongue — considering a hooker bit it and refused to let go during a late night rendezvous last month that ended with an exchange of punches and the two bickering lovebirds in the clink.

And thanks to The Smoking Gun, we can all relive Shlomi’s ill-fated experimentation with solicited sex, not that I think anybody particularly wants to. Personally, his sordid tale is just more proof of why paying for sex should never have to become an option for anyone — but then again, when your only attractive asset is that you have a ludicrously huge and unnecessary collection of ShamWow towels back at your apartment to help clean up afterwards, perhaps paying for sex becomes the only option.

The police report describes that Shlomi met the hungry prostitute at a Miami Beach nightclub, that she, surprisingly, turned out to actually be a woman, and the two then went back to his hotel room where he paid her a thousand dollars for the worst sex of his life. When he kissed her, she reportedly bit his tongue and refused to let go until he repeatedly punched her in the face. No doubt a little turned off by the encounter, he ran down to the lobby to tattle on Ms. Lecter upstairs, incriminating his own regrettably stupid self in the process, and they both got arrested.

So now Shlomi’s in the SlamWow, and he’s biting down on a ShamWow, as he’s about to get a SlamWow from his cellmate. And somewhere far away, Billy Mays is clutching a bottle of OxiClean and smiling. Hell, Billy Mays probably hired the hooker first and this is how he gets off, that weird, scream-talking, koala-looking fuck.

Meanwhile, I’m having some trouble envisioning how you would go about punching somebody in the face while they’re simultaneously clamped down on your tongue. Of course, and more importantly, I’m also having some trouble envisioning why anybody would even consider kissing a prostitute in the first place. Sorry Vince, but I think you’ve been misled by your own infomercial — all the ShamWows in the world couldn’t get that taste out of your mouth.

 
aaron

5:47 PM on March 28th, 2009 | 

Posted by aaron

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Dirty Jobs

Filed Under: Movies, Zero Tolerance

observe-and-report_seth-rogen-290Now, I haven’t been impressed with Seth Rogen for a long time. Pineapple Express would have been barely entertaining and way too long had the subject matter been anything other than weed, and Zack and Miri Make a Porno had just enough novel nudity and crude humor to be bearable - more a testament to the last-ditch desperation of Kevin Smith than Rogen’s comedic prowess.

That said, and much in the same way Will Ferrell managed to shock me with the record low that was Kicking and Screaming, I’m both surprised and disappointed to find that Rogen is already writing his own will on the silver screen - and it’s called Observe and Report.

About the illicit plight of some mall cop who’s hell bent on stopping a flasher run amok, Observe and Report is pretty much Kevin James’ Mall Cop with a different overweight lead and undoubtedly less family-friendly humor. The fact that the movie is being released only a few short months after Mall Cop — which in my opinion only got attention because it didn’t star some predictably washed-up former Old School cast member — only makes this newest turd of the silver screen more embarrassing for Rogen, who really should have called it quits for a few years post-Pineapple.

Besides, really? Two movies about mall security guards? Are we really so starved for content as a creative people that we can’t think of slightly less mind-numbing material? Or are movies now bound to travel the brief and disastrous route of quirky nonfiction books - where a few blockbusters about the history of salt, or milk, gave way to a generation of books documenting the completely uninteresting backgrounds of everything from toothpicks to T-shirts. Let’s make something clear: Good Will Hunting should not be interpreted as carte blanche to make movies about every janitor, grocery store clerk and mall cop out there.

Oh, and a word of advice to the casting director over there at Mindless Movies Inc. - shaving a chubby guy’s head and removing his ostentatiously geeky glasses does not a sexually appealing man make. Even for trashy makeup-counter girl Anna Faris.

 
kira

8:30 PM on March 21st, 2009 | 

Posted by kira

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Casualties of America’s Favorite Past Time

Filed Under: Zero Tolerance

It's like Where's Waldo for pain.

It's like Where's Waldo for pain.

Impossible as this might sound to some, I do not like baseball. In fact, I think it was made for assholes and losers and boring people.

…Okay, that was maybe a little overly critical. The fact is, I’m not much of a fan of organized sports at all, but I think that’s probably just me projecting my feelings because I have always been terrible at them. Perhaps I shouldn’t be resentful of baseball, or dodge ball, or even badminton, any of the grade school gym class tortures so many of America’s future software programmers were forced to suffer through as unfortunately scrawny children, their intelligence somehow branded on them like a golden Star of David. And yet, knowing that their oppressors will eventually end their brilliant athletic careers at the ripe age of 18, from there on making the glorious transition to bloated, alcoholic failure, is somehow not reparation enough.

Either way, perhaps the blame does not belong on sports themselves, nor on the eight year old trolls grinding my face into the dirt of my grade school’s sparse football field so long ago, but rather, on my parents, those so-called future software programmers of America, who had the gall to be nerds and still actually have sexual relations, releasing me into a world in which my genes would haunt me for the first two decades of my life.

However, my distaste for baseball goes beyond those particular fond childhood memories. There was a time in my youth when I regularly attended minor minor league baseball games, presumably because it was an alternative to bowling alleys and Discovery Zone as birthday party destinations. However, it was a short lived time, a love affair not unlike that of Chris Brown and Rihanna — intense, fast-paced, and ending in ghastly violence. One fated night under the lights of a pivotal match up between The New Britain Rock Cats and The New Haven Ravens, I watched in horror as a line drive home run was caught some two rows behind me by a middle-aged woman. With her mouth. Read More ›

 
aaron

8:27 PM on March 14th, 2009 | 

Posted by aaron

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The Shortest Route To Headache City

Filed Under: Zero Tolerance

This is a good way to feel hungover before you even start drinking for the night. Yes, there’s nothing quite like the joy that comes with realizing that your eyes are liars. Or seeing spots for ten minutes after these motion sickness inducing little bastards burn holes through your retinas.

Optical Illusion

Optical Illusion

Optical Illusion

Optical illusions may be an amazing phenomenon… but then again, so is getting high on heroin. And just like those evil poppy seeds created by the devil solely to make other drugs look not so bad, this breed of junk can too consume your life — staring at these all day cost me my job… the respect of my friends and family… and worst of all, my respect for myself. Truly, whoever comes up with shit like this is secretly a sadist.

Or who knows, maybe they’re just hypnotizing us to go shop at Walmart or something.

 
aaron

8:35 PM on March 7th, 2009 | 

Posted by aaron

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