FILM PROJECTOR

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ROLL TITLES

“It Could Happen Here!”

A PRESENTATION OF THE DEPARTMENT OF HOMELAND SECURITY

JANET NAPOLITANO, DIRECTOR

IN CONJUNCTION WITH THE U.S. DEPARTMENT OF EDUCATION
THE U.S. DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE
AND THE HOUSE ANTI-TAX ACTIVITIES COMMITTEE

AN IOWAHAWK EDUCATIONAL FILMS PRODUCTION

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march music (more…)

ACT 1
SCENE 1

A stark dressing room in the underbelly of the White House, bathed in the dim yellow light of a 25-watt compact fluorescent bulb. The dingy walls are plastered with Shepard Fairey “HOPE” posters. Off stage is heard the cringing, muffled gasps of a stunned arena audience. Suddenly the door bursts open and enters BARACK “BAM BAM” OBAMA, former champion, unconscious on a stretcher carried by his handlers — cut man TWINKLETOES EMANUEL, manager PAPPY AXELROD, SPITBUCKET BEGALA and SPINDOC GREENBURG. His nose is bleeding profusely, his eyes nearly swollen shut, and his forehead is embossed with a reverse “BRUNSWICK” from an errant bowling ball. They are trailed into the room by a pack of concerned sportswriters as they place the stretcher on a stark table. 

TWINKLETOES EMANUEL: Alright, alright! Give ‘em some air, you mugs! 

PAPPY AXELROD: Can you hear me, Champ? 

BAM BAM: We would save enough money… uhh… we would… money save… the ones we are looking for… 

PAPPY AXELROD (gently slapping Bam Bam’s face): Champ, Champ! Look at me! How many teleprompters am I holding up?  (more…)

Special Guest Video Commentary

By XD-235
Staff Teleprompter for the Obama Presidential Campaign

–

Still reeling from Vietnam, and with Watergate and OPEC looming on the horizon, 1972 was a turbulent time for America. Nowhere was the zeitgeist more reflected than on ABC Thursday nights, with the debut of “Chutch.” Starring Jan-Peter Bronston in the title role, the fast-paced action series centered on the adventures of a mystic, Indian-like professor at fictional Boulder University. Based on the rugged hippie anti-hero Bronston portrayed in a skein of popular low budget drive-in biker films (including 1968’s “Tenured Losers” and 1970’s “The Angry Ones”), Chutch battled against injustice and The Man with a lethal arsenal of martial arts, mystic dialog, dirt bikes and his faithful mountain lion, Zapata.

The show’s unique combination of serious social commentary, folk music and violent desert dirtbike action sparked a brief but intense popularity among young viewers, spawning the memorable catch phrase “you heap big dead, paleface” — uttered by Chutch whenever a villain questioned his Native American bona fides.

“Chutch” rose to #16 in the Nielsens in its debut year, a level of popularity it never repeated. Ratings continued to slip through 1974, hobbled by weak scripts and the increasingly bizarre behavior of Bronston, a gifted method actor whose obsession with his role as a mystical revolutionary pseudo-Indian led to an unfortunate and debilitating peyote habit. The series was finally replaced in 1975 by the gritty police drama “Torino Squad” starring Lash LaDouche. (more…)

[ed. note: a number of you have written requesting I invite T. Coddington Van Voorhees VII back for another analysis of the sad state of the conservative movement. After some cajoling and a bottle of VSOP, he agreed.]

T. Coddington Van Voorhees VII
Editor, the National Topsider
Membership Chairman, The Newport Club

Much has been written about the fate of the conservative movement in the months since last I corresponded with you. I won’t belabor the barrels of ink expended in the printing of its obituary, nor will I bore you with further reading of its entrails. Suffice it to say the grand old ship is in the doldrums, adrift in the electoral currents, with nary a harbor on the horizon. But it is time we leave such map room mopery aside and navigate a bold new course for the conservative armada. One needn’t have a 400-year old heirloom scrimshaw sextant for this task; but, fortunately, I do. (more…)

Excerpts from the never-aired 1973 Scooby Doo episode with guest star Hunter S. Thompson 

We were ten minutes south of San Clemente when the putrid green daisy walls of the van started closing in. I recall the fat four-eyed lesbian sweater girl saying something like “are you okay, Mr. Duke? We’ve got a mystery to solve…” when suddenly the gullet of the garish chartreuse steel beast began to spasm like a digestive track readying itself to vomit. I began clawing at my hamstrings and when I turned my head I was looking into the iridescent eyes of a grotesque animal screeching “Ruh Roh! Ruh Roh!” in a hoarse irritating dog-accented gibberish. That’s when things began to turn weird. 

I fought off the ether hallucinations and fly swarms and fumbled through my medical bag for my .45 and another shot of absinthe. I pushed off the safety and casually popped off three quick rounds, through the shag carpet stomach lining of the nauseous steel beast that was consuming all of us, and it began thrashing angrily. The lesbian was screaming, and the two Aryan Hitler Youth were screaming, and the grotesque talking dog jumped into the arms of the whimpering hippie boy. Holy sweet Jesus Christ, I thought, don’t these people realize we’re about be eaten alive by poorly-drawn Chevrolet? Nevermind that. They would see it all soon enough, after the nightshade cookies and Scooby snack kicked in.  (more…)

Oh Lordy I should not have picked “courage” as my drinking word.

Wouldn’t it be more efficient to send these things out by UPS?

Nazi tearjerker + topless = Oscar gold!

Speaking of shampoo, somebody buy some for Zac Efron.

Touching. But how about another wistful tribute, to all the movie people who should be dead but aren’t?

Oh great. On-hold music for the Comcast service department.

I beg to differ. (No CGI here, by the way)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kfCVLm9wd0g

Theo Van Gogh was not available for comment.

Final day weigh-ins!

Now is the time we dance on Sprockets.

“Iron Chef”? Dude, the NHRA Arizona Nats are on the Deuce… Funny Car finals coming up.

Who are these people? I wanna see Mickey Rourke give them an atomic piledriver.

WTF? Anyone else catch the reference about “making the suburban 50s look nothing like the prison it was”?

Hey Sarah Jessica Parker — why so long in the face?

What, no speech for Gay robot marriage?