Eloquent Eloquence: Would Motorboating the Magical Cleavage Be Like Being Baptized?
By Prolixity Julien | Eloquent Eloquence | April 13, 2012 |
By Prolixity Julien | Eloquent Eloquence | April 13, 2012 |
Eloquent Eloquence is a compi [crawls into child car seat, secures 5 point harness] lation of the ten best comments of the week. Comments in re [duct tapes pith helmet to head]views are not eligible for inclusion.
There is a link in [spits in scuba mask, rubs it around] the commenter’s name that will take you to the [clenching AND bracing]original post.
Any scientists/engineers here?
I don’t know if this is a problem with those who are immersed with science everyday as a part of their job, or if pedantry is a personality trait, regardless of what you do on a daily basis. But it irks me, how science (and those who practice it) is portrayed in books/tv/movies. But that’s how it is. The media doesn’t understand.
So the question is, do I go into a movie like…oh… I don’t know… Armageddon - which just ignores basic laws that we’ve been privy to since the bronze age?
Forget about warp drive, or parsecs, sometimes, movies are just so incredibly wrong that you don’t know where to start!
The secret to cold fusion is written on a bunch of folded notes in a bra? (The Saint)
One simple equation written on a blackboard is the secret to the technology in a new society? (Atlas Shrugged)
Simply hacking into an alien computer system that you have no knowledge of will shut down the shields. (Independence Day)
Or how about those famed Eureka moments? One experiment, one moment of brilliance, and all problems are solved? 3 months later the world is saved?
Fuck you Hollywood! Research is hard work! You get a brilliant idea. You beg for money. You get it (hopefully). You do the experiment. You redo it. You verify it by a different source. You redo it. You check different conditions, you try larger scale. You redo it.
You file for a patent (years! years!) which you make no money off of, you publish a paper (which, despite your supposed brilliance is torn apart by your peers in the process, not received with accolades, because they wouldn’t be doing their job if they weren’t tearing it apart. And oh by the way, your peers reminded you that if you really want to make sure your solution is effective you need to test A, B and C as well, and you missed that reference published back in 1983) and then you go back to square one, after you beg for more money to continue the project. Rinse, wash, repeat.
It’s a long process! And not for some all encompassing solution to the future of humankind, but for a sub-problem of a sub-problem of a sub-problem. And even if you are brilliant in your field and have been making well documented advances throughout a lifetime of work, the general populace will still have no idea who you are, or how you’ve contributed to society’s progress.
So in conclusion, I guess I’m more upset from how scientists and R&D process are represented than the accuracy of the science itself.
I have an easier time suspending disbelief in that you can reverse the effects of a disease that liquifies your innards with a friggin’ vaccine than I can swallow that once you find the monkey which from which the disease spread, the vaccine is available within hours, or, just in time to save your scientist wife. (Outbreak)
End of the rantle.
As an aside, has anyone heard of PhD comics?
There are three comics that I can think of which address what we’re talking about. Google the titles and the comic will come up.
“If TV science was more like real science”
“If Movie Science was more like real science”
“The science news cycle.”
I will deny it if asked, but Pookie makes a good point.
Has anyone defending Species actually seen it since they lost their virginity?
So would motorboating the Magical Cleavage be like being baptized?
Now, now. We’ve all known for quite some time that Dustin suffers from White Guy Blinders-itis and is almost fatally allergic to anything more deeply-hued than ‘Paper Bag Creole’. Let’s talk solutions:
-A year’s supply of Rocket Fuel Malt Liquor—DAY-UM! (a reference which will surely slip past our gatekeeper’s observance, since he doesn’t know that NewsRadio reruns exist. Also: ‘Stinkbutt’ and ‘I am ‘Spar-ca-tus’)
-We can introduce the telegram boy and selzer lads to him, but make sure he brings along some Hennessey as a peace offering.
-Lock him in a Kardashian Boyfriend Holding Cell
-Fat Lady Drag Convention
-Homeboyz In Outer Space Memorial Service
-Sneak him into an ‘Always The First Fucking Guy To Get Killed’ convention.
-Grape Drink Treasure Hunt. ‘Purple drink, purple drinnnnnk…’
-Well, it’s not called Roscoe’s Chicken And Whole Foods, is it?
-A series of brick wall comedy sets on VHS highlighting the differences between our people. ‘See, white people parkour like this, while black people parkour like this!’
-Purchase a ‘Soul-Glo Decompression Set For The New Englander In Your Life’ guide.
-Some kind of shuck ‘n’ jive ebonics decoder ring, or something equally stupid.
-Cocoa butter whistle
-What are the logistics behind making someone 17 percent sassier?
-Tell him what Milhouse was talking about when he mentioned the crying of the doves.
The “The World Is My Sarcasm Font” Comment of the Week goes to Slash for what I sincerely consider a really very impressive display of said sarcasm.
The world really needs a sarcasm font. Quorren
We already have a sarcasm font. It’s called “Obvious Sarcasm.” Slash
My nephew, Peter Spiderman, is such a good boy. He’s so friendly! And my goodness, he’s so strong since his blood got radioactivated. He’s got these little do-hickeys on his wrists that shoot webs. Webs of any size! Webs to order! And you should see the way he snatches up theives with them. They’re like flies, they are!
Peter Spiderman. Remember that name, Anna. He’s due for big things, my nephew.
Ooh, you should tell your niece about him!
You don’t know who we are. You don’t know what we value. If you are looking for reason: I can tell you we don’t have any. But what we do have are a very particular set of criteria; criteria we have fine-tuned over a very long career. Criteria that make us a nightmare for any filmmaker like you who wants to show a woman enjoying sex. If you cut out the bush shot, that’ll be the end of it. We will not badger you, we will not bother you. But if you don’t, we will look for you, we will find you, and we will rate your film NC-17.
Y’know what? If they can apply this idea and incorporate it into reality television, I’m all in. Each week the Hellraiser franchise visits a new reality show and the reality stars… solve the puzzle box, the Cenobites show up, torture the shit out of them, followed by disembowelment/dismemberment.
Let’s start with Hellraiser: Jersey Shore.
Zombie Ass: Your end is just the beginning