This is me: wyndskaunt.deviantart.com
maliciouswallydrags asked: Sometimes crazy people are more disturbing than entertaining.
This video is not an example of this.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gNGExNhLYD4
He he he he.
Go to hell with me?
Ahahaha, Judas is NOT Jesus! he’s the guy who got Jesus KILLED. Oh lord.
Absolutely! I’m ready when you are. I was headed in that direction, anyway.
I did a Google search trying to find out exactly what Rango says at the beginning of the movie as he warms up his vocal chords (“Mah. MMMMMAH. Crunchy creamy kooky candy cupcake!” I’m getting that tattooed somewhere) and I stumbled across the greatest website I’ve ever seen—Christian Spotlight on Entertainment, a ministry of ChristianAnswers.net!
Okay, so before you shoot me, I have nothing against insane religious fanatics reviewing films. Freedom of speech, and all that—plus, they’re ridiculously entertaining.
It seems the Christian Spotlight is very upset with Rango. There are numerous negative reviews on this site mostly complaining about how morally wrong and inappropriate for children it is (positive ones, too, also including complaints, but they aren’t as funny). Here’s a sample from a review by Tonia, age 41 (USA):
“In another scene, a young boy grabs Rango’s loaded gun and is playing with it, PUTTING IT IN HIS MOUTH, pointing it AT HIS FACE, looking up the chamber and saying ohhh there’s bullets in there!!!—and this is played for laughs. All I could do was pray for protection for all the children watching this.”
This dumb little gag made the woman start praying? Honestly? She thinks little children will seek out rifles to put in their faces because of it? But that isn’t even the best part of her rant.
“Early in the film, Rango and another character are trying to hide from a hawk. Rango is in a bottle and is getting away, and the other character is begging him to let him in the bottle also. The other character says “I’ll let you pleasure my sister!!!” as he begs in vain to be saved from the hawk. This made me extremely uncomfortable and was a clear indicator of what was to come. It was muttered so quickly that I almost couldn’t believe that he said it.”
First of all, the line is “I’ll let you kiss my sister!” There is a really huge difference there. Furthermore, sweet Tonia fails to mention the only part of the movie that actually made me question the PG rating, a bit which follows right after the hawk chase. Rango gets away from the hawk, and the toad is snatched up and carried away. As the hawk climbs higher in the sky, the toad shouts down to Rango, “YOU SON OF A B—!” The “itch” bit is covered up Spongebob-style by the hawk screeching. So apparently Christian Rotten Tomatoes is okay with almost swearing and bringing the honor of another’s mother into question. Oh, wait—Tonia has an issue with that, too!
“Rango lies and tells his friends that his brother is a snake, to which they question how that could be possible, and he says something along the lines of, well my mother had an extremely active social life. This gives you an idea of the type of “humor” in the movie—most definitely not appropriate for children! No one in the theater laughed, except for a small chuckle maybe two or three times in the entire movie.”
Speaking of Spongebob, I wonder if Tonia lets her kids watch that sort of show. Rango, like Spongebob, is full of quick bits and gags aimed at adults, such as the active social life, enlarged prostate riding sidesaddle, and guess-what-I-crapped-out/hacked-up bits. I can’t believe she didn’t mention the last one (incidentally, that was one of my favorite parts of the whole film). The idea of those fast little parts is to give something for the grown-ups to laugh about. That’s why they’re fast. Your four- and seven-year-old daughters will not catch it. I feel a little sympathy for Tonia. There isn’t much for a super-mature person like her (no sarcasm) to get out of movies like this if you don’t like that sort of humor. Excepting, of course, fantastic visuals.
“The animation is amazing, but it actually started to work against the movie, as many of the characters were so ugly and frightening that the excellent animation made them difficult to watch. We got to see details down to the food stuck in their green, slimy teeth. Many of the characters were grotesque, and I found myself looking away at times.”
Have to agree with her on this one, to a point. Yeah, some of those dudes were pretty icky looking. Especially the chicken who gets harassed by the Gila monster guy in the bar scene (then again, I think all chickens are gross). But I liked it. Maybe I’m a little grotesque myself. I have to give a shout-out to whoever animated the yellow night flowers—I think you see a close-up right after Rango gets thrown out of town? They were absolutely gorgeous. And the water, which is always difficult to do, was great. And there’s lots of it, too, since it’s kind of the crux of the whole film (is that a proper use of “crux”?). The dry skin on Rango’s face and hands that you see in the very beginning was amazing as well.
Finally:
“I regret taking my children to see this movie. This movie is being marketed towards kids, but, in reality, it’s meant for teenagers and adults. The subject matter is very dark, with murder, extreme thirst, dying crops, a dying town, greed, lying, and dead animals being featured throughout.”
Murder, extreme thirst, dying crops, dying towns, greed, lying, and dead animals? Since when was a bad harvest considered “dark”? Isn’t there a Veggie Tales biblical retelling involving dying crops?
“ Moral rating: Offensive / Moviemaking quality: 3
I just wish they had marketed the film at adults and left the kids out of it.”
…Okay, Tonia. I’m sorry for ragging on you. You’re entitled to your wishes, even if you gave Rango a skimpy rating. Just make your complaints less entertaining next time, okay?
Dad: I hope you were just mad when you said you don’t like me…
Me: No, I just don’t like you.
This is a conglomeration of several moments that did actually happen but which probably got mixed up in my mind. Forgive me.
Emma and I are waiting in Batdorf and Bronson for our hot chocolates to arrive on the counter. The two suited men order coffees and wait nearby. One of them is a fleshy-necked creature in dark grey, the other, in blue pinstripe, has an angular jar, dark eyes and dark eyebrows, and the threat of stubble hanging around his face. I make eye contact with him briefly, then unabashedly check him out. After a while our chocolate is ready and Emma and I head toward the exit.
Me: That one in the blue wasn’t bad looking.
Emma: Looking over her shoulder. Eh. I thought they would be good-looking, since they were wearing suits, but then I saw their faces.
I laugh and continue to check the guy out as we leave. Emma shoots me a look.
Me: Aw, come on, they’re wearing suits!
Emma laughs. We emerge onto the sidewalk and pass a young-ish boy—18, maybe—holding a guitar. A couple girls sit at his feet.
Guitar kid: Hey, ladies, can I play a song for you?
Emma: Ignore ignore ignore ignore.
Me: Continue gazing at the kid as we cross the street. To Emma: You’re not that cute, boy.
Would totally let him play for us if Emma hadn’t kept walking. Pause.
Me: He was kind of cute…
Emma: Wyatt, we are in Olympia; there are no cute boys here.
Me: Jonah’s a cute boy.
Emma: Jonah’s gay, he doesn’t count.
Me: Umm… Random is cute.
Emma: Non-committal noise.
Me: He’s really nice to me, and he’s a gentleman. He—
REALLY cute, amazingly lovely boy walks by. I point.
Emma: Stands corrected.
I went out with my best friend yesterday and bought 20 sticks of incense. I burned one last night (Clear Wind) and my room still smells of it. It made me feel like, I don’t know what, but it was good, an old smell from when my whole house used to smell this way (that’s a lie; it was only in two rooms— mine and my stepmom’s). While it burned I called my parents in Sedona and drew a flying tampon on my desk calendar. I wrote part of an essay. I want to burn another one, one of the sparkly ones (Aprodisia), but I feel as though I should ration them, even though they were quite inexpensive, and I don’t want to be— you know— aphrodisiac-ed while my aunt is in the next room. Moreover, I don’t want my aunt to be aphrodisiac-ed while I’m in the next room. That would just be weird.
Outside it is hailing absolute gob stones (I’m pretty sure that’s not the right use of “gob stones”). My aunt, on the phone, is telling my uncle that the ground is all white. I can’t see the ground from here. But the cherry blossom tree outside my window is raining petals. I’d take pictures, but the beauty would be gone, it’d just be little white dots on a blue house background. Later on I will burn that stick of incense and my head will feel good again.
Answer: Who gives a crap? Hit the permalink button and dog-ear every freaking post you see until someone explains what it’s actually for.
