If you could control the culture or the government, which would you choose?

It’s kind of a trick question.  Because if you control the culture, the government will follow.  (And no, the converse is not true – unless your government is a totalitarian state and your tastes run toward socialist realism.)

Anybody who believes movies and TV shows have no impact on our behavior ought to go tell the $800 billion advertising industry, because they’re just wasting their clients’ money.

For too long, supporters of a freer society have done little but grouse about the messages infused in our entertainment, while Hollywood has just calmly gone about its business, making the culture we all consume.

Well, if you want to influence the culture, you’ve got to create it.  Nobody should understand that more than those who champion free markets and individual liberty.

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If the first “Night at the Museum” was weighed down with a cookie-cutter plot involving the stale idea of a single dad desperate to redeem himself in his son’s eyes, “Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian” has no weight whatsoever thanks to a flat story loaded with monstrous plot holes and a cast of dull, one-dimensional characters.

There’s also only one laugh — one — and all the special effects in the world simply can’t make up for a single chuckle over 105 very long minutes. The only good news is that Ben Stiller appeared to be even more bored than I was.

If you remember, Larry Daley (Stiller) was once a night guard at the Museum of Natural History in New York City where after the sun went down, thanks to ancient artifact, the exhibits all came to life. Mayhem ensued, adventure was had and lifelong friendships were formed.

A few years have passed (between films and for our characters) and today Larry has managed to tinker his way into fortune and some fame as a highly successful entrepreneur hawking inventions, like his glow-in-the-dark flashlight (so you can find it when the power goes out, duh), on infomercials.   (more…)

“Strange…”  he blurted, on feeling that familiar pain in his lower back. “I’m just vapor and thought, and I still need a chiropractor.”

The handsome man instinctively brushed aside the hair barely hanging down on his forehead as he pressed on towards the residence portion of the house.

“Ah… I am here to see Obama” he told the secret service guard inside the residence. The guard did not react at all.  John Fitzgerald Kennedy knew right off that his presence would be seen only by his intended audience and the guard saw nothing. “Fix your tie pal.” Kennedy joked as he walked passed the oblivious sentry.

“You must be President Kennedy”, Obama sheepishly asked the figure now standing above him as he lay in bed.  ”These visits are getting quite regular, are you the last?”  (more…)