Pajiba

I think I'd rather marinate my tongue in hard liquor. And then eat it.

Not that it matters much, being that they're essentially the same movie with different throats to cut, but the header-bar-thingy title should be Saw VI, not Saw IV.

Was that Eddie from "Family Matters" on the carousel? I say let him take a bullet. He had all those opportunities to kick Urkel's scrawny butt & never took advantage.

I would rather have a syphilitic badger gnaw on my scrotum while the Godtopus tormented me with hallucinogenic visions of Toby Keith ass-raping Glenn Beck.

I do believe that "I'd rather," has officially become tonight's comment diversion.

I gotta be honest, I wouldn't mind seeing Toby Keith ass-rape Glenn Beck. But he can't use lube, except maybe blood, so it hurts them both. And I want to hear it. In full THX surround-sound.

Squeal for me, piggy.

I'd rather have a threeway with Heidi Montag and Spencer Pratt and have the whole thing videotaped and then subsequently released on DVD. Blu-Ray, even.

I'd rather be stalked by a crazed serial killer who wanted to teach me a valuable lesson through a series of inescapable and disfiguring traps in real life.

Thank you, I'd rather not.

I'd rather get fucked by Dan Rather.

I'd rather read a book. Movies are killing America's children's brain's.

EDUCATE YOSELFS, FOOL!

i'd rather lose my ability to have kids then watch this.

eh that's not enough i'd rather put myself either in a self induced Coma or back into the mental asylum.

I'd rather repeatedly slam my testicles in a desk drawer.

I'd rather willingly let a jellyfish sting my tongue and then have a syphillitic hobo piss on it to neutralise the sting.

I'd rather go back in time to about four years ago, when my relationship with a particularly psychotic girlfriend was gradually becoming more and more unbearable, yet I was still doing my absolute best to hold it together because my self-esteem had been crushed to the point where I thought that this was my last chance at human companionship, and I ended up sitting in a sticky-floored cinema watching Gerard Butler in The Phantom of the Fucking Opera.

I'd rather go even further back in time to when I was eight, in Orange Class at my primary school, and I was reading a section from one of those early reading-type books, standing before a class of fellow schoolkids sitting cross-legged on the floor, earnestly reading my chapter about a spotted dog chasing a big-ass ball or some other bullshit, and then Steven Rock decided, out of nowhere, to pants me in front of everyone - and the teacher, that bitch Mrs. Crunden, rahter than disciplining the little bastard, fucking laughed as I stood there, winkle dangling in the wind, too mortified to even move.

I'd rather... *reviews previous offerings*...

I think I've said too much.

I'd rather be the syphillitic hobo who pissed on Dill's tongue.

Wow, dill. Here, have my last beer.

I'd rather be sent to purgatory, strapped to a chair, and forced to watch FOX news nonstop until this abomination hit the theater, with the only commercial break being footage from CNN.

(the commenter formerly known as bucdaddy) - I thank you for the offer. But I feel that just having made that post indicates that I have imbibed quite enough alcohol for one night. What started off as a desperate attempt to make next Thursday's Eloquent Eloquence ended up as a drunken pouring-out of some of my most deep-seated esteem-obliterating memories, and frankly, I wish I'd kept my fingers from typing.

Hang on... I'm doing it now, aren't I? Goddamnit! Look, I'm not really this pathetic in real-life, I assure yo- Yes you are, you snivelling little turd. Just admit it- your attempts to integrate into this community of articulate, intelligent and witty people are just a way to try and shield yourself from the fact that you're a failure in real life... - You shut up! You shut the fuck up! I'm not a total malcontent, I just... I just haven't fallen in with the right crowd, okay?

*cue innner psychoses having a one-on-one wrestling match to determine whether I go on to become a critic or a serial murderer*

I would rather watch every Uwe Boll movie back, to back, to back, to back.

I'd rather let Rosie O'Donnell grind on my face.

I'd rather spend one week in TK's basement.

I'd rather be freinds with Conrad and risk the wrath of Skitz' Sodomites.

I'd let Rosie O'Donnell grind on my face.

What were we talking about again?

I'd rather be one of the Duggars with a life of shitty, missionary, Christian sex just frequently enough for me to get knocked up once every ten months from now until it becomes biologically impossible.

I'd rather be stuck in a never-ending conversation with someone who loves the Saw films.

...while being pegged with a diamond encrusted dildo, with the pointy bits of the diamonds sticking out.

I'd rather be Gooby's roommate and have to deal with his dirty laundry piling up in the corner.

I'd rather touch a Baby Brainfoot.

I'd rather spend a Sunday afternoon engaged in pillow talk with any of the following:

Katherine Heigl

Kate Gosselin

Heidi Montag

Sarah Palin

Stephanie Meyer

Anne Rice

Victoria Beckham

Paula Abdul

Rachael Ray

No sex. Just an afternoon of hopes, dreams, feelings, and thoughts.

I'd rather never have the pleasure of eating sandwiches ever again.

I'd rather be stuck in a room with Nancy Frickin' Grace, Gloria Allred, and one of the less sane Fox News talking heads discussing current affairs, without weaponry of any kind in the room.

I'd rather watch Torchwood: Children of Earth. Really, I would.
And so I will!
The 4 5 6. {shudder}

I'd rather work in a sweatshop.
I'd rather be in a contract to write jokes for Jimmy Fallon or Dane Cook. (the same thing as the first, you might say)
I'd rather live in a slum in Mumbai.
I'd rather eat an aircraft carrier.
I'd rather attempt to jump a car battery using my body in place of cables.
I'd rather fall asleep inside of a clothes dryer set to high for eight hours.
I'd rather have sex with a member of my immediate family.
I'd rather jump off the Sears Tower.
I'd rather stick my nose in the asscrack of Marlon Brando (yes, in his current state).
I'd rather lay in front of a speeding truck.
I'd rather shoot up heroin in my ballsack.
I'd rather have the job of destroying copies of every remaining episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000.
I'd rather walk through Iran wearing an American flag and carrying a full gas can.
I'd rather sit on a stick of dynamite and ask for a match.
I'd rather have to subsist on a diet of human skin, prune juice, and rotten avocados for the rest of my life; trapped in a windowless room with no furniture, itchy carpet, and padded walls so I can't kill myself; and only being able to talk to hardcore Cubs fans for the rest of my life-----
than see this movie.

I'd also rather kill Ryan Reynolds right before Dustin's eyes and as a result be sent to a prison where I am only allowed to wear jumpsuits as designed by the House of Dereon.

I'd rather Guess Who somehow became a separate, corporeal being and have a three way with him and Pookie.

Also, this: I'd rather have the job of destroying copies of every remaining episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000. made me scream in horror a little bit.

Also also? The Spambot stole my name. Not cool, spambot. Not cool.

I'd rather watch Jar Jar Abrams' star trek.

I'd rather find out that Radiohead and Bon Iver are writing songs for Twilight movies. Noooooooooo! No I wouldn't! Why can't I UNREAD things? Why?!

Or, since I prefer the classics, I'd rather just do a good old self neck stabbing.

hehehe,

'way-way' sounds like 'wee-wee'

I'd rather eat at Arby's.

I'd rather get fisted by Conrad while watching the director's cut of Gummo.

I would rather see this movie with an optimistic outlook that spread garbage about the films being the same thing over and over. The basic principle of the game stays the same, the character dynamics and cultural targets change each and every time. Actually, I even lied right then: each film is a very different version of the same basic game: live or die, your choice.

But I digress. I'll see it. It looks interesting. Saw V showed significant signs of improvement over the abomination that was IV (which was probably another "Oh, you guys wrote a different screenplay but we think it will work for Saw. You want some money? We'll make your film after you release a second one." You know, just like Bousman writing II, directing III and IV, then getting a horrific distribution deal through Lionsgate for Repo!, his own pet project?).

I'll be the first to condemn the sixth film after I see it if it deserves it, but I refuse to let negative opinions try to counteract the original's power. You can't retcon the fact that the first film did not show any excessive violence, worked very well for being produced on a shoestring budget, and scared the shit out of people with its final twist.

I don't know many people who claim the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre sucks because Renee Zelwigger starred in an awful sequel, or that the original Halloween is horrific because they didn't like III: Season of the Witch. Psycho isn't garbage because people disliked the sequels. Rosemary's Baby isn't any less powerful because of the really shitty follow-up novel Son of Rosemary. And Borat isn't a worse film for Bruno not exceeding its level of quality.

Where was I? Oh yeah: I would rather see the film, which could be pretty decent based on the growth shown in the fifth, than bitch and whine about a film like some who probably never even saw the original and just read the wave of criticism claiming the entire series is "torture porn," a term that exists for an entirely different category of film than it is erroneously applied to.

See, now I saw the first Saw, and found it delightfully refreshing and creepy and disturbing up *until* that final twist, which was so mind-bogglingly implausible and just plain stupid, that I was kind of biased against any sequels right from that point. It was just such a goddamn letdown that this really good horror film, this unique creation, had such a ridiculous finale. I went on to watch 2 and 3 and found them redundant and lacking the subtlety of the first one. So, I skipped 4 and 5. And probably will skip 6 for the very same reason. Though who knows? perhaps one day I'll be bored and feel like a marathon.

To be fair, I grew up in the 70s and 80s, the birthplace of all this horror sequel madness. I saw each and every Nightmare on Elm Street until I got bored, and the same goes for Halloween, Friday the 13th, and - yes - The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, the original of which IMO is one of the finest films ever made. But I tired of all of them, eventually, because the same basic premise repeated over and over does become tiring; and so perhaps I am biased against sequels for that reason alone. Of course, one could also argue that I should be weary of *all* movies for that reason, which would not be entirely incorrect, and surely, I sometimes feel that way.

The point of all this, I suppose (I've kind of forgotten what with all the babble), is that whether the term "torture porn" is applied incorrectly or not, it seems pretty much like same old, same old to me, and I imagine to some others as well.

I will have no problem watching this movie.. I LOVE them