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July 24, 2008 |

By Brian Prisco | Eloquent Eloquence | July 24, 2008 |

The Dark Knight and Fucking! That’s all that people want to talk about up in this bitch this week. And for people who have seen the so-called “Greatest Movie Ever Made Since Antoine Lumiere Put A Stick Figure Drawing In Front of Candle” and are doing more public fucking than the cadre of porn stars in Van Nuys, you sure are a bunch of crotchety cockgobblers. Oh, dread! Our make-believe list of celebrity wet-dreams isn’t multi-culturally diverse and too front loaded on the dong! Don’t you people understand? [Please put in some sort of awkward “sarcastic font” — if you choose to print the sentence at all.] Minorities are scientifically inferior, and their sole purpose in life is to serve us dollar menu cheeseburgers and fake attacks of autism in their many, many illegitimate children in order to cull welfare money we desperate need to buy more bombs to drop on brown people. God didn’t mean to color with the brown crayon, he just ran out of the good colors.

Me, I prefer to confine my disgusting acts of salaciousness to a bedroom. Sure, I might inadvertently leave a first-floor apartment window open, and receive a standing “O” for bringing about a legs-around-the-waist, fingernails down the back, screaming “O,” but that’s not the kind of shit you need to be watching. For free.

Giggiboo! That’s my happy sound, motherfuckers. I write this from the well-deserved, properly marinated cocoon of my dipsalucious vacation, which will be spend bursting my nerd cherry at Comic-Con. I shall be reporting as your very own Dr. Honeydew, dispatches from the cavernous convention in Beautiful San Diego will be fortified for your daily dosages. I’ll be wandering about with my black “Thank You For Being A Friend” arm band and t-shirt that reads FREE HUGS. Not that I want people to touch me, I’m just taking a political stance against the grevious allegations against that party clown in Lancaster who was incarcerated for allegedly molesting a group of middle school children with inappropriate balloon animals. So what if the pirate hat looks like labia, it wasn’t his intention to out that cheerleader.

Other things than The Dark Knight happened this week, but obviously nobody cares but boogs and a bunch of middle-aged men still scarred from their accidental viewing of Teeth, which they thought was the director’s cut of Brown Bunny. Maybe if Mamma Mia had bothered to throw in a few high-octane fight sequences, it would have done better. Look at the picture we have on the review, and tell me that doesn’t look like Meryl Streep’s about to dole out some Crouching Tiger action on those two broads threatening her in the laundromat.

Poor Guillermo Del Toro was screening Hellboy II last night, and he offered a good natured lament thanking the audience for watching something that wasn’t The Dark Knight. Del Toro makes a lot of self-deprecating fat jokes, has too many DVDs, says fuck a lot in a darling little accent, and tells amazing stories about all the racial hurdles he had to hurl his bulk over to get movies made. He said he kept getting scripts about bullfighters and mariachis. He said, “Would you send David Cronenberg a script about The Mounted Police or a fucking moose?” His director of photography, Guillermo Navarro, was told by an agent that “Why would he hire an agent? I’ve already got a gardener?” Del Toro said, “Did you call him up after you won the fucking Oscar?”

He’s obese, obsessive, profane, and vengeful. I totally want to hit that. Hard.

Weep for the overwhelming poetry of our belov-ed Alfred Lord Ten:

10. And the reviews I’ve seen so far have been positive, and because I live in Ledger’s hometown, I thought they would glow all over him and forget everyone else (he does steal all his scenes, but everyone in that movie just oozed awesomeness). And then, I saw a newspaper that gave the Love Guru a higher rating than the Dark Knight, because apparently, there’s too much talking in the Dark Knight, and the reviewer loved all the silly names in Love Guru! Another thing I hate — this fucking town. — Bakers_dozen

9. I actually had my fingers crossed for Ranylt to get the Dark Knight review.
In fact, I just decided that all the reviewers on the site should turn in their own takes on that movie. There’s plenty of material for it. — Riddler

[Oh, Riddler, you don’t need the Pajiba staff’s reviews! Everyone else decided to post their own reviews on our site! Even the one from Salon! Much appreciated, guys! That’s nothing at all like going to McDonald’s and selling a bunch of Whoppers from your own personal grill. It’s a cutthroat world, this blogosphere, so you just pimp yourselves without any sort of regard to common fucking manners. Never mind the fact that a lot of us took the noble civilized route and decided to merely write witty comments and then use that handy dandy link option to let people who thought we were clever hit the blue shiny words and find out what we thought! Never mind that whole blogroll that you can easily get on by writing an email to Pajiba. Or the fact that Stacey tirelessly reads through countless emails to post the Pajiba Love! Fuck that shit! You just keep on doing your own thing. Don’t worry about that dimming light feeling, that’s just Grimace using his purple love muscles to deliver you into the sweet embrace of death by breaking your fucking necks.]

8. I hate you people. I hate everyone who is not the parent of a 10 year old girl too squeamish to watch a loud action movie and got to see The Dark Knight this weekend. We could have gone to see this if anyone had stepped up to the plate and offered to take the girl to Libby Lou or something. Let it be on your heads. Hate. — greer

[Forget Del Toro. Greer, I fucking love you. Shit, if you lived in the LA Area, I’d babysit for you. Does she like balloon animals?]

7. Well, I lay on the sofa all weekend moaning in misery from a massively painful head cold that made my skull feel as if it was about to explode. Mr. PaddyDog, on the other hand, sat on the other sofa and every ten minutes repeated this phrase: “Are you fucking kidding me? Are we really not going to see Dark Knight this weekend? I want a divorce.” A fun weekend was had by all in my household. — PaddyDog

6. ZZZZZZZZZZ…whu…what? Oh yeah…movie sucks. I called that several days ago, when I first saw the trailer. Patrick Warburton, I’ve heard, is contractually obligated to be in every animated movie in existence now. Agent Bedhead, for going above and beyond the call of duty (by not mutilating your eyes and ears while in the theatre and then wrecking havoc on the audience), I’d like to buy your Dark Knight ticket. Just send me your name and address and a hot picture of you in skimpy lingerie. For…research purposes… — Shadows of Dakaron

5. Wait, you mean this isn’t about a crossdressing Iditerod team? *rips up ticket to Transsiberian* — RoboPanda

4. 1 PM in Columbus Georgia on Saturday July 19th. Sold out crowd all looking like they were in line for a roller-coaster. I’ve never seen a full lobby at 1 o’clock and it almost made me squee. 2 hours 45 minutes later, i looked at the crowd and, like me, they were all disheveled, exhausted, and in a state of shock. Nirvana isn’t a lousy grunge band from Washington, it is The Dark Knight. — danny on trial

[When I read this, I pictured McConaughey doing beat poetry, bongos and all. Or a sweaty microphoned reporter, delivering live from the scene. That’s not an insult, but an explanation of what I hope all of my dispatches from the Con are like. However, they’re probably going to end up more like these two particularly flavors of batshit crazy:]

3. For the summer Olympics the basketbell team better bring back the Gold same goes for the other athletes. Go USA!!!! Maggie looks 50 and sounds like a teeny bopper.Katie is infinitely hotter and talented and should share some of her good genes to Mags because Mags can play mother to Katie and Batman. — metal gear

Where is Katie Holmes when you need her and what happened to the days when Batman’s women were babes? Truthfully the only actresses I liked in this superhero movies were Margot Kidder and Michelle Pheiffer but their characters can be so cartooney too. Katie is still a step up over Maggie and a better match for the handsome men.Why do you think its called X-Men not X-Women because Hollywood is clueless when it comes to lady in perils for superHEroes and SHE-ro films. — gretchen

[Either the spambots caught pseudofeminism during a drunken date rape with the Jezebelles, or Scientology has finally succeeded in infecting the interwebs with fucking crazy.]

2. If Whedon can find time away from raping his wife, he should totally create a prequel. — MG

1. I took the family to see it and was less than impressed. When I was growing up, the Joker was a clown prince, not a homicidal sociopathic menace. We had to leave the theater because our eight year-old had spent the better part of twenty minutes with his hands over his face. It’s unfortunate how we can go to WalMart to purchase him the action figures, but he can’t actually watch it due to the unnecessary violence. Also, what the heck happened to Robin? Hello? Batman and Robin? I seriously hope that the next film shows how Bruce Wayne takes Dick Grayson under his wing and teaches him how to fight crime (and we get to see some more of those high-tech bat-gadgets!). At least we were lucky enough to find that Space Chimps still had seating available! I wouldn’t be surprised if that film surpasses Wall-E as the summer’s animated blockbuster! — Conrad (last name withheld)


This comment started a shitstorm, but it was one particular branch in the storm that caught my eye. We do occasionally weave like a herd of locustial hipsters, devouring anyone who dares to question our collective opinions. We’re elitist, pretentious, and snarky. We attack people from the pompous lofts of our own privately constructed pedestals. We scorn that which we do not deign to be worthy. We are Pajiba. We will kick you in a hole if you question our women, we will don sweaty loinclothes to battle against the hordes of the great unwashed and their rhinoceri of ignorance. We will throw a spear at a transvestite. We don’t care if you think we’re sheep, or we’re wrong, or we’re jerks. We are Pajiba. We don’t think we’re better than you. We just fucking are.

Conrad, on behalf of your brave stance in the face of the hordes of Dark Knightware, and out of respect for those who have left us this week, I gift you your very own copy of “Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot!” God bless you, Estelle Getty. I hope your sassing off to Jeebus in a kitchen in the sky. Conrad, please send your vitals and a family portrait to dustin at pajiba dot com.

Until next week, my loyal Pajagoogoos, remember this. No matter what color our skin is, we’re all the same color when we turn out the light. And that color is Awkward Groping.


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