Why You Hatin', Horror Haters?

Netflix. A den of cinematic scum and villainy. Not really, I just like to picture it as such while I use and abuse it's many lazy-friendly features. The most lazy-friendly of which is the Instant Queue. Through the magic of the interbutts, this allows you to watch movies instantly on your computer, iPad, Playstation 3, etc. etc. etc. Queue stupid commercial about grandpa watching a romantic comedy with his stuffed dog. At any rate, I was merrily traipsing through my specially-cookie-designed "Gory Foreign Film" category (made just for me by our robot overlords) when I encountered something of a disappointment. High Tension, one of the best foreign horror films this decade, was given a measly 3 stars. "Well . . ." thought your fearless writer, "Perhaps this is just because, like most of the world, Netflix users hate the French. Let me check some of the other ratings of Horror movies before I fly off the handle and start slavering for moron brains." To my total lack of surprise, only one or two obscure titles had more than 3 stars IN THE CATEGORY. Obscurity, of course, allows for the neck beards to be the only voters, and such awesome titles as Behind the Mask: The Rise of Lilian Vernon net more stars than A Nightmare on Elm Street.
So, Netflix. I hate you. Steven Seagal movies are extremely funny, in a not-intended-to-be-funny way, but by no means are they better than the penultimate horror films of my generation. The only explanation are wet-brained fools that think they are going to watch something with Cameron-esque production values being disappointed and one-starring everything in the category to avoid seeing them on the queue. I demand satisfaction.
Stage one of my plan is to systematically vote up every movie that I have seen and even remotely enjoyed in the Horror genre. Even My Bloody Valentine which is total crap squeezed out of a desperate production studio will receive at least four stars. I will leave a nice little cut-and-paste review on each one, expounding about how production values and pacing are not staples of the Horror Genre, and that people that do not like to see hyper realistic violence should stay in the "Movies for Little Girls" sections like "Action and Adventure".
Phase Two of my plan will be the carefully planned degeneration of the Horror category by suggesting tags for each movie that are arguable. High Tension a Foreign Drama? Sure! It's Foreign, and vicious murder-kidnappings sure are Dramatic! A Nightmare on Elm Street might file well under Teen Issues (I kid you not, this is a micro-category) or even High School Drama! Seeing Freddy next to High School Musical would drive a laugh out of even the most cynical chest (mine). And who could argue that Bram Stoker's Dracula isn't romantic? Let's just say that it wasn't a movie I watched with my male friends back in the day. This will help to inseminate the Horror genre into new territory, making the most popular films available to a broader market and allowing the neck beards to vote up all the really nasty movies for our little clique.
The Final Solution is very simple. I will ask my friends to join me in down-voting Thrillers. At this point, the reader might be asking themselves . . . "But Aaron, you intellectual paragon, why would we do that?" First, thank you so much. That's very kind. To answer the question, Thrillers are what families watch to get a little tickle of horror without letting their kids see piles of slippery guts or power tools being used for things that void their warranty. They are what boyfriends rent to get their girlfriends to cling to them so they can cop a feel without grossing them out or "spoiling the mood". The Sixth Sense is a "thriller". It's also a good way to get some rest if you have had trouble sleeping, much like M. Night's 40 other movies. My plan is to fuse the Horror genre into the Thrillers like smashing a bacon cheeseburger and a pair of glazed donuts together into a Luther Burger. That way, whenever someone goes to see a boring movie with Anthony Hopkins grimacing for two hours, they can downvote that crap and watch High Tension instead for a real treat. I'd like to see Hopkins from Instinct take on Marie in a chop-saw forest stalking scene. A scary haircut versus a concrete wet saw . . . For once, I'll take the Frenchy for the win.
Thus . . . Horror would take its rightful place as the meat on the plate. Thrillers can be the bland mashed potatoes, and the rest of the tripe on Netflix can be the veggies pushed aside by any sane human (Military Documentaries can remain the tasty bread products, however). Some veggie bits like Monster Films can be the delicious candied yams of the veggie world, but most are the foul turnips of Romantic Comedy and Historical Drama. As I go to begin my plan, I am suddenly hungry. For a nice, juicy steak. From a cow. What kind of sicko do you think I am?

Don't answer that.

10 Ways To Annoy Your Server

Greetings, friends and relations.

It's been a while since my last rant, so let me blow the dust off and hit you with one that I hope will open your eyes to the more subtle points of dining out that can get you better service, colder drinks, and possibly even a reduced bill! Remember these two important facts about your server: they are at work, and they are most likely the last person to see your food before you eat it. We'll touch on these points later. Being a server currently, I will begin to use "me" or "us" to refer to servers or the service industry and "you" referring to the dining public. Hopefully not ALL of these apply to you, but I am sure one or two might. These are in no particular order, as they are not born from recent events. I've just been mulling over these and thought I'd put them in a handy list.

1) I have a name. Please use it.
One of the first things most servers at a restaurant tell you is their name. "Hi, my name is Aaron. Welcome to Roadkill Cafe." This is an invitation to use my first name to refer to me. Please do not blank out and ignore me as if I am a robot or a cog in the vast machine that is my restaurant. My name is not "waiter" (an improper word, at any rate, since I am a server, and not a "waiter" who typically removes dishes and refills water at fine dining establishments), or "mister" or even "sir". As polite as those names might be, I gave you my name. Please use it. If you do, I might even bother to learn yours and do the same.

2) I am your waiter, not anyone in the same shirt as me.
With the exception of very fine dining establishments were you may have one or more servers per table, nearly every restaurant assigns you a single server for your table. If it's me, please ask me for everything you need at your table. Even if I am "in the weeds" or under a lot of pressure, it is sometimes dangerous to my job if you ask any person in the room for another fork, a refill, or a to-go container for your leftovers. It points out to my co-workers that I am incapable and/or lazy. If I am either of these, please politely ask to speak to a manager and inform them of my plight. Management is much more effective (not to mention gentle) at dealing with pressure issues than gossiping co-workers or support staff. Not to mention, I like to take care of you because it improves my tip and keeps me involved with your table.

3) The "t" word.
Speaking of "tip" . . . it's not really a tip anymore. I hate to broach this subject in such a rude way, but you are NOT doing me a favor by tipping me. You are paying my electric bill. You are buying my dog food. You are putting gas in my car. The average server makes $2.13 an hour before tips. That's two dollars and thirteen cents an hour. The reason we make so little is because it is expected that you will give us 15% to 18% of your total bill as a gratuity, which will even us out to 10-15 dollars a hour on average. All servers are required to pay taxes on their total sales, often not the amount of money we make. If you round your bill up to the nearest dollar, or worse don't tip at all, you have literally taken money out of my pocket in exchange for my hard work. Imagine if your boss walked into work tomorrow and told you that you had to work an extra hour, and that he would not only be withholding your pay, but be charging you ten dollars for the privilege. If that sounds crazy, imagine our surprise when we open our check book and see an $0.85 tip after an hour of dealing with you and your kids. If you really want to do me a favor, give me 20% or more. That'll make me smile and next time, I'll fight to get a table clear for you and pick your kid's favorite crayon colors.

4) "What's good here?"
Nothing. We don't eat here. Number one, we see how the food is cooked. It's a sad fact, but a lot of the time some magic is used to make your food magically tasty. This will be with compound butters, seasoning blends, microwave ovens, and paint brushes with mystery liquids on them. Number two, we're servers, so we're obviously not wealthy enough to eat out every night. The few nights we can eat out, do you think we go to where we WORK to eat? Every once in a while, I'll tell people what I eat. It's generally a side salad or a sandwich and a bowl of rice. The kitchen can't screw that up, and it doesn't make me gain 10 pounds. A better question is, "What does everyone else like?" I can tell you with percentile precision what my guests eat, and how much of their plate they clear.

5) Coke, no ice.
This is not a fast food restaurant with convenient lids. If you are one of the few people with a tooth sensitivity and ice irritates your condition, you likely have countermeasures like medicine or special tooth veneers to protect you from the pain and discomfort ice might cause. If you are in Cambodia or an undeveloped nation, you have limited cause to fear the contents of municipal water sources and the ice they produce. Here in the US, you are annoying your server by making us spill drinks on ourselves unnecessarily. You see, ice provides an important liquid baffle that prevents the fluid from "lipping" or swirling out of the glass when we transport it. If you don't like watery Coke, drink faster. If you just want more precious Coke that the ice might displace, drink more slowly. Please remember that you are in a restaurant, and not a desert. Besides, if you run out of soda too quickly, you can always chew the ice for precious moisture and entertainment while you wait for me to bring your 3rd refill (all the while praying for you to wet your bed).

6) Ranch dressing. Not a condiment.
If you are from the North or West, feel free to exchange Ranch dressing with mayonnaise, honey mustard, malt vinegar, or whatever weird crap that is not ketchup. If it's not on the table, you are annoying your server asking for it. We might smile and oblige, but it's because of the "t" word. Your french fries have been lovingly prepared with a generous amount of seasoning for your enjoyment. Please EAT ONE before drowning them in sauce or using them as a vehicle to pack salad dressing into your mouth. If you like salad dressing so much, order a salad. Much healthier, and . . . SURPRISE . . . the salad comes with dressing! Ketchup is generally provided at the table for your convenience if you find the fries to be too bland. Also, if the fries suck, you might consider not eating them. They're just cheap stomach fillers anyway.

7) How would you like that cooked? Well done? No.
Friends, if you need a steak to be well done, please order the chicken. Seriously. Steaks are for people who enjoy the flavor of beef. The flavor of beef comes from the juices (comprised of rendered fat and blood) that are trapped in a properly cooked piece of steak. The maximum amount of palatable juices come from a steak that we call "normal" or Medium Rare. Sorry, Rare-heads, Rare is too cold to render the proper amount of fat for the mix to be perfect. Any further than Medium Rare begins to degrade the quality of the steak BY DEGREES, meaning Medium is terrible, Medium well is terrible terrible, and Well is burnt to the point of pity. How dare you take away a perfectly good steak from a meat eater for your A-1 Steak sauce hamburger-in-one-piece debauchery? I would rather give the raw meat to a vulture than burn it to Well Done for you. May I suggest the chicken? It's always well done. Also, it won't take 25 minutes to come out and decrease my "ticket time".

8) I like you fine, but we are not friends.
A certain amount of facade is important in the service industry. It's called rapport, and it's developed in all sales jobs. we want you to feel like you can trust us and enjoy our company. This does not mean, however, that we want you to sit around and discuss banal minutiae while our co-wrokers are making money all around us. Please . . . if you are finished eating and drinking, pay your bill and haul ass. Come back and see me another day to continue our friendship. Repeat business is great. Also, please don't ask me about my family or my political/religious beliefs. Best case scenario is that I tell you and you feel uncomfortable for asking. Worst case is that I totally lie to you to boost my tip and you feel even worse. If we are really friends, you can ask me these questions while we are having a beer on my day off.

9) Splitting checks.
Folks, this world is a-changing. Even since I became a server ten years ago, I can tell you that the number of cash payments has gotten so incredibly low as to almost be laughable. We realize that it's convenient to pay for your own meal and your own drinks separately with your credit card. To that end, we are generally happy to split checks for you to facilitate your desire for convenience. However, take a moment to consider a few things before you ask us to do this. First, time is of the essence. Make your intention clear right away, as in: "If it's not a bother, I'm separate from everyone else." This gives us the chance to draw a line in our list and make you a ticket at the beginning, making it easy for us to print and issue your bill at the end. Second, the less checks, the faster you leave. If I have to swipe 13 credit cards, it'll take about 20 minutes for you to leave after you've eaten. That can be an eternity if you are in a hurry. Consider joining forces or forming "payment teams" to ease the transactions. Finally, look for an ATM in the restaurant. If you pay together, in cash, you can leave instantly. It's what we do when we go out to eat, because we can do math.

10) I stopped babysitting when my sister moved out.
Parents, please marshal your children with the same care you would in polite company, and be mindful of how they are watching your every move in public. If you order a Well Done steak with Ranch Dressing and a Coke with no ice, you are dooming me to another generation of suffering. Teach your children how to behave in a restaurant. Teach them to respect their server the same way they do you. Teach them the benefits of patience, the virtue of being neat at the table, and the rewards of restraint. Most of all, teach them how to enjoy eating with their family. So many times we see children too small to be in a restaurant scattering toys and food all over the table, with their tired and numb parents offering a tight-lipped smile at our obvious distress. By contrast, older children have their faces shoved in a hand-held game or texting on a cell phone with their meal lying cold and untouched to their parent's chagrin. Teaching your child proper manners and etiquette at eating establishments will stick with them throughout their lives and make your special night out more enjoyable. While you're at it . . . teach them how to work out 20% of a bill in their heads. Make a point of showing your children that you tip your server, and how important it is to do so.

I hope this list has entertained and informed you. If you read this and enjoy it, please share it with your friends and family. WE can't say these things while we are at work. If any of these points were mentioned at your table, we would lose our jobs. Please remember that we are working hard to make your special night a memorable one, and help us serve you better.

Why I Hate Capcom: Part Two HD Alpha Turbo Fantastic Remix

This is not a hate blog about Capcom, despite what the title says. This is a letter from a jilted lover who still takes the abusive son of a @#$%^ who hurt them back in over and over.
That being said, let me put on my steel toed boots and kick some Japanese ass. This is unprecedented, and I know you've all been waiting for this drivel. Let me start out by saying that I've already thoroughly basted Resident Evil's turkey in my previous blog, but I might go back and make some carcass soup out of it if I get stirred up enough.
Let's start with Street Fighter. "Street Fighter" was a game released in 1988, when our writer was about 10 years old. I remember when it came out because it was the confusing game that all the big boys wouldn't let me watch with their asses packed so tight playing the damn thing from opening to closing in the arcade. Yes. Arcade. Remember those? The bright, shining oasis for young boys and girls in the vast ocean of dressing rooms and bookstores that made up the suburban mall? Arcades were the one place you could leave your kids without being worried about having them snatched, since the blaring lights and obnoxious sounds generally reduce all non-employee adults into quivering piles in mere moments. It was so bad my mother wouldn't even come in and get me, she'd just sit on a bench and glare until she caught my eye. I digress.
Street Fighter was rightly and excellent, well received game. It was fresh, cool, and not really that violent, unless you count the hamburger face the loser displayed in full 32-bit glory. Then came Street Fighter II, which was amazing. More characters, richer backgrounds, and a lot of "curb appeal" when adding the now-famous Chun-Li (the first girl in a game you didn't have to rescue that I can remember). Then came:

Super Street Fighter II · Turbo HD Remix (I wish I was kidding)
Street Fighter Alpha (Alpha 2 · Alpha 3)
Street Fighter III
Street Fighter IV (released to console only, kicks ass)
Street Fighter EX (EX2 · EX3)
Street Fighter: The Movie (Arcade · Home)
Super Puzzle Fighter II Turbo
Super Gem Fighter Mini Mix
Street Fighter 2010

Some of these games are amazing. I just wanted you to see this list. Does any one thing need this many sequels? Seriously. How about:

Mega Man · 2 · 3 · 4 · 5 · 6 · 7 · 8 · 9
Mega Man in Dr. Wily's Revenge ·
Mega Man II · III · IV · V (not the same as 2, 3, 4, and 5)
Mega Man: The Wily Wars
Rockman Complete Works (hilarious since they came out with 14 more Rockman titles)
Mega Man Anniversary Collection
Mega Man: Powered Up
Mega Man & Bass (WTF?)
Rockman & Forte Mirai kara no Chōsensha
Mega Man: The Power Battle
Mega Man 2: The Power Fighters (not the same as Mega Man 2)
Wily & Right no RockBoard: That's Paradise (again, WTF?)
Mega Man Soccer
Mega Man Battle & Chase
Super Adventure Rockman
Rockman Strategy
Mega Man X (2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8)

AND OVER 45 MORE TITLES!

Capcom. You have a problem. I realize you are a video game company, and that you have to make margins and advertising budgets work for you. I have a very good friend in the anime industry, and they have the same releasing issue (releasing the same thing time and time again).
But this is a failure of imagination. We don't ever need this many of the same thing, for any reason. Especially not from a company that destroys the only real innovation it ever had.
I'm speaking specifically of Clover Studios. Anyone? Didn't think so. Clover Studios (in addition to sharing half the name of my favorite movie) had a short career as a Capcom surrogate. A career that was marked by its only two games being the most amazing and truly inspired games I've seen in a long time. Viewtiful Joe and Okami were probably not the greatest games ever made, but they were incredibly fresh. So fresh that even my hard candy shell was broken into unintended smiles on several occasions at what I could do without even trying on these games. The graphics were not great, the plots were maybe a little silly, but the gameplay and concept was genius. What did Capcom do? Fired them all and closed the studio. Awesome. Gotta make more capital available for:

Mega Man
Street Fighter
Onimusha
Devil May Cry
Resident Evil
Captain Commando
Strider
Breath of Fire
Darkstalkers
Final Fight
Marvel vs. Capcom (if your company name is in the title, you fail at life)
SNK vs. Capcom (again)
Dino Crisis

Not that all of these games are bad. Street Fighter IV is awesome. Devil May Cry is a great concept (although so incredibly difficult that only the most dedicated fans will appreciate why). Resident Evil 2 was my favorite game of all time before Blizzard ground my social life up and forced me to snort it off an Azeroth-shaped mouse pad. Dead Rising is one of the best "Zombie" games ever made (and I wish they had made THAT one Resident Evil 5 - Holla!).

Capcom, this has been a long time in coming. You need help. Stop what you're doing. You're letting MMORPGs and Guitar Hero take over the world. Hire some young, fresh ideas. Give Mega Man, Resident Evil (*sniff*), and Street Fighter a viking funeral. Stop making games using other games as starting points. We'll wait for an Okami. We'll wait for a Dead Rising. Take your time, and do what you do best. Amaze us.
And stop using your name in the title of fighting games, you idiot.

Why Resident Evil 5 Annoys Me (Or: What I Hate About Capcom - Part One)

Yes. Resident Evil 5. The game I have been waiting for. Mind you, I have said this 6 other times. That's right, there have been *6* Resident Evil titles for main console games (many more for those insipid, mind-draining handheld consoles which I hate so much). I'll get into that stupidity later. For right now, let me just say how much I think Capcom's writers suck. For a moment, imagine that this game was called "Kill They Ass 5" and the holy name of Resident Evil was not used.
"Kill They Ass 5" would be a mediocre game based on mob-driven combat and a hideous inventory screen that recognizes a fistful of herbs as the same size as an AK-47. "Kill They Ass 5" is the same as "Kill They Ass 4" only much shorter, with a worse, more contrived storyline only loosely related to "Kill They Ass 4", containing the same (already killed) villain as "Kill They Ass 1, 2, and 3"
Why in the hell would anyone PAY for this crap? Because it's Resident Evil, that's why. Let me transport you back to a more innocent time . . . back when "The Original" Nintendo was just called Nintendo.
Your fearless writer was just a young man then. Still incredibly intelligent, but much less modest. My friend Chris brought into my home a black suitcase, hand-made for the purpose of protecting the absurdly expensive and fragile wonder he was about to unleash on me. The incredible, unmatched power of the Sony Playstation (Playstation "One" or PSX for all you kids out there). Ridge Racer was the first truly 3D, fast-paced racing game I'd ever seen. I sadly played that game for most of the night, not knowing that the best was yet to come. In the dark of the wee hours, Chris brought out a game that he said he was unable to play alone, at night. Resident Evil, known in Japan as Biohazard. The chilling, poorly-dubbed game play captured my imagination. A game where you had to AIM your gun, save ammunition, hide from enemies, and even maintain your inventory for the purpose of combining ingredients against later bosses. Not to mention the fact that brain-hungry zombies and rabid zombie dogs bursting through every window and out every door would make you eject whatever fluids you had inside your body at the time. This was the first time a game ever SCARED me. A long three years later, Resident Evil 2 came out. Again, ground breaking in the fact that it contained two discs, one for each of two characters. Depending on which order you played the game, different things would occur in the same places, giving you a terrified feeling of anticipation even if you had beaten the game before. One scene scared me so completely and so perfectly that I had to literally pause the game, burst out onto my patio, and sit with my hands shaking for several minutes.
It only took them one year to come out with the next game. That would've been a clue that something was wrong. Resident Evil 3 was the first real turd Capcom put out. It was easy. So easy, in fact, that you were expected to finish the game in less than two hours for a "bonus prize" of getting an infinite ammo automatic weapon. This was the first time I doubted Capcom. Then, they had the balls to release Resident Evil (One) for the Gamecube. Understand that the Gamecube, like the Wii, is a kiddy box. It sucks, and the games suck. So I had to fork out 200 clams for one of these plastic crap stains and buy a game which, even used, was difficult to find and over $40.00. The dubbing was better, the game play was good, but I was still playing THE SAME @#$%ING GAME. Even some of the secret areas and items were the same.
Less than one year later (alarm bells ring now), Resident Evil Zero came out. I kid you not. A Prequel to the game I loved so much. I chew prequels up and spit them into the toilet. I hate prequels like cats hate cold water. This prequel blew away my expectations by being so utterly ridiculous and insanely bad that I immediately sold my Gamecube. Best thing I have done to date except selling my Wii.
By now, I am stewing over Capcom. I happily play my games on my Playstation 2 and try desperately to ignore the rumors that Resident Evils 2 and 3 will be released for the Gamecube. I guess I should have said "re-released", because that's all they were. Shame on you, Capcom. That is dirty pool. Re-releasing a game to literally another generation of kids is tantamount to putting the Godfather Uncut on the silver screen and acting as if you deserve another Oscar. Luckily for my psyche, these turds swirled right down the drain where they sat, unsold, on the sewer of the bargain sale rack.
Resident Evil 4 exploded into game magazines with all the fury a major marketing campaign could muster. Fully two years before it's release, strategy guides on the Internet were filtering in from Japan. The rave reviews, first-rate fan response, and gorgeous screen shots from our pan-asian brethren were making all the zombie-killers in the US drool. Lo and Behold! Gamecube exclusively obtained rights to release! Playstation 2 would release the game TWO years later. With a lot of rage in my heart, I went back to the bargain store, plopped down 50 more dollars, and bought a Gamecube again. To my surprise, the Gamecube was actually quite a bit better, but the games were still happy little piles of multi-colored kiddy crap. Resident Evil 4 was probably the first time the rolling ball of hate for Capcom slowed.
Resident Evil 4 was good. It was not great, and not really scary. It was good. Tough, it had a good intuitive inventory screen (handguns take up 4 spots, rifles 8, etc.), and the enemies were smart, creating good fight scenarios and tense moments. The only thing keeping it from being genuinely pleasurable was the fact that it was NOT Resident Evil. It was "Kill They Ass 4". These things I was fighting were not Zombies, and they didn't scare me. OK, the chainsaw wielding brute with a bag over his head bursting through doors scared me a little, but it wore off the second time it happened. All in all, Capcom had made a good showing for itself, and I was pleased to see some innovation.
Resident Evil 5, in much the same way as Resident Evil Zero (*blech*), has overwhelmed me with how incredibly it sucks. I won't go into too much detail, suffice to say that inventory has once again degenerated into stupidity (now with added stupidity coming from a mentally-challenged AI "assistant" character blowing all your good items like a fat kid eating Oreos), and it's exactly the same as Resident Evil 4. So, Capcom . . . the old "take something good, rub feces in its hair, and smack on it on the head with a ball-peen hammer until it wets itself" thing working for you? How about the "lets make 'em wait four years for a re-make" thing?
I'll tell you what works for me. The "look at the box and if it says Capcom hide it behind something else" thing.

All Cooks Do Not Smoke and Curse

I've worked in the service industry most my life. From washing dishes, preparing food for my college cafeteria, and working as a server for many years in varying qualities of restaurants, I have seen a good cross-section of the food preparing populace.
45% of food service professionals smoke. It's a high stress job that requires quick decisions and no excuses. If you screw up at your job, someone get sick or goes hungry. Most people do not like to get sick or go hungry, so your performance must be as close to perfect as possible for at least 5 hours straight. Unlike the "glamorous" cooking shown on television, real kitchen work is grueling, thankless, and extremely tiring. If you don't hurt all over and smell like your frying medium and/or bleach at the end of the night, you did something wrong. Nothing gives you a closer or more raw look at this pain than Fox's Hell's Kitchen television program. The cameras stay on the kitchen and give you a face-full of hand-burning, sweaty, white-knuckle action.
While the artists are in their studio, let them do what they please. I applaud Gordon Ramsay for his unflinching honesty. He IS enraged at his amateur cooks ruining his reputation and consuming his more-valuable-than-gold time, and he gives them exactly what they'll get from any sous chef in the world . . . a first-class ass chewing. I take no exception to the anger and emotion that comes out in the super-heated vortex of a busy kitchen under stage lights and the eyes of the nation.
I do, however, get annoyed at the way these people act after they are finished cooking. In all the years I have worked in my various restaurants, you leave your work at work. When the whites and checks come off, you are first and foremost a team. The almost fraternal connection of those in the service industry is universal. You have gone to war together and survived, on a nightly basis. When the TV chefs are finished cooking, not only do they all begin chain-smoking in their apartment, but their dialogue gets lost in a shameful array of expletives. Don't kid yourself. Anyone who knows me knows I am no manners coach. I would not complain at all where it not for the growing perception that ALL cooks act like this after work.
Rather than bash these people, I would simply like to take up the mantle of the protector and assure those of you reading this humble blog that not everyone in the kitchen acts this way. Other shows, like Bravo's Top Chef, are equally to blame for the stereotype. You hear the *bleep* sound effect almost as much as you hear the name of the show. I understand that television and the money at the end of the show are incentives to create drama among the contestants, but to me the show would give them a chance to show how classy they could be under pressure. Those are the people that really last in the service industry. The ones that can stay cool, tell a joke, shrug and stir the rice properly without bursting into tears or chopping their finger off.
Just remember, folks, when you go out to eat for Valentine's Day today . . . not all cooks are like that. Yours is probably a cool-headed, hard working person with an eye for quality and (hopefully) no facial piercings.

Friday the 13th Celebratory Rant - Is Jason a Zombie?

Greetings, all.

Welcome to the first of many very weird blogs that my diseased brain will likely belch in an effort to vent the toxic gases building up within. Our topic for today is a celebration of the upcoming "Friday the 13th" movie (directed by that Michael Bay guy and a bunch of other rip-off artists) on Friday the 13th. How quaint. I would have been more impressed if they had released this movie on Christmas or President's Day. They could have said, "@#$% you, cliche! We deny your public victory!" Sadly, no. We are talking about a man that has made a little over 50% of his movies from crap we saw already.
Here is a handy list for those too lazy to look at all the movies he has made on Wikipedia. These are the movies that are remakes of the original ideas circa 1970-1980.

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre
The Amityville Horror
The Island
The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning
The Hitcher
Transformers
Friday The 13th
The Horsemen
Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen
A Nightmare on Elm Street

Bonus points if you can guess which of these was actually STOLEN from the original film-maker, who sued the pants off the production studio and won big. HINT: the original was featured on MST3K (Parts: The Clonus Horror). HINT 2: It's The Island.

At any rate, on with the purpose of the blog. As I sit and wait with childlike innocence for my favorite horror movie to be filmed in nausea-inducing shaky-cam and peppered with long, lens-flare looks at the heroine's dirty face, I put my addled brain to considering what the hell Jason Voorhees really is.
As those of you playing the home game will already know, Jason was NOT (repeat) NOT the main villain of Friday the 13th. Chew on that like so much Red Man tobacco and get back to me when you consider the implications of completely changing the villain of a classic movie for expedience. Friday the 13th was a story of a mother that wanted revenge for the death of her child at the hands of irresponsible, debauched camp counselors. It was the fact that, to a point, we could sympathize with Mrs. Pamela Voorhees that made Friday so damn unnerving. Her little boy drowned and she was going to kill anyone who even so much as reminded her of the counselors who were responsible for his death. When, in the second movie, it was revealed that Jason himself was not only alive but a total bad-ass, we were given pause to consider what the hell happened. In truth, it was the 80s film industry furiously churning out horror films in an effort to make money off of the ballooning interest in thrillers (no doubt caused by Michael Jackson).
When the next 26 movies came out (exaggeration purposeful, I know there have been 10 Friday the 13th movies, one Jason vs. Freddy crossover, and this new one makes 12), I was delighted. Jason just would not go down. After every blood-soaked, more and more violent and less and less plot-driven movie, I found myself slavering for the next gory masterpiece.
After all, these movies had the three things that make horror movies perfect: gratuitous nudity, hyper-realistic violence, and a villain that has absolutely no redeeming qualities. You CAN'T love Jason unless you are mentally ill (like me). He never even has a real line (ignore the flashbacks, just like I did).
So we know Jason was a little boy, and that he had a mother. In some versions of the movie, he was a mentally challenged child. Most of the movies agree that he drowned in Crystal Lake. Some movies have him drowning rather innocently when the counselors were more than 50 feet away, but unable to hear his struggling cries. Other movies ramp up the repulsion toward the counselors, showing them taking drugs and rutting like rabbits while Jason drowns in plain sight.
At least one movie has Jason being maliciously killed by the kids at the camp while the counselors took an R. Lee Ermey in Full Metal Jacket approach, hoping that the good-natured torture would cure him of his genetic malfunction. I like the first version. The counselors where stupid kids themselves, and Jason's mother was psychotic. That makes the whole series more brutal.
So little Jason drowned by hook or crook and wound up dead . . . or not. Whatever. Not detered, he rose from the "dead" in Part 2, setting out to kill people for no good reason. No, revenge for Mom is not a good reason. It's just an ordinary reason when you're dead. At this point, Jason is little more than a big, strong freak of nature. He's tough, quiet, and he wears a ridiculous flour sack on his head (the mask came in part III, home game players). He kills people with whatever is lying around in whatever spot he happens to find them. As with many of the early movies, he's not a stalker yet. He's just like an open bear trap. You step in the wrong spot and *bang* life sucks for you. He moves around at a normal pace, and even rushes from place to place on occasion. He might as well be Michael Meyers, Leatherface, or any other lunch-box slasher film killer of the early 1980s.
It's what happens to Jason after the hilariously named Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter (4 of 12) that makes me wonder. SPOILER ALERT: He takes an axe to the @#$%ing head. That makes you officially dead. I know that Phineas Gage lived a long life with a railroad tie in his head, but that is a 100% freak occurrence. Now I am convinced that some dark force animates Jason. When he is shocked back to life in the again hilariously named Friday the 13th Part VI: Jason Lives, he gains full fledged monster status. His movies are no longer slasher films and are now monster movies (a la A Nightmare on Elm Street). We will be referring to this "Super Zombie" Jason going forward.
Now we see that our old buddy, Jason Voorhees (now routinely played by the massive, hulking Kane Hodder) is unnecessarily huge, stronger than 10 gorillas, and will always trade "up" to a machete when given the chance, as if Craftsman outdoor products had endorsed him. The trade-off includes maggot-eaten, hideously scarred flesh and the inability to move faster than a brisk mall-walk. Pokey-slow, rotting Jason is now approaching zombie status.
The only facts preventing his rise to the King of All Zombies awards platform is the fact that he does not eat flesh/brains, does not moan, and is not particularly vulnerable to head-shots (see above). Apparently, his one true weakness is being chained up in Crystal Lake to simulate his "drowning". Since he didn't actually drown according to canon, this is lame. Jason is otherwise completely without fear of bodily injury, cannot be reasoned with, and has no goals other than to smash cheerleaders against trees while they are still in their sleeping bags. Since he was killed so many times and brought back to life by something as simple as an electrical cable or as complex as his black, hell-spawned heart being passed from one victim to another. He was even dissolved in toxic waste in his one and only trip abroad (good old NYC, always making with the toxic waste at appropriate times to kill masked monsters or spawn ninja turtles).
If we take a step back and look at the evidence, Jason is a fine example of a slow moving, invincible killing machine. That is certainly zombie territory. The only thing that makes a zombie cooler is the simple fact that they are never alone. If there were an army of Jasons, that would not only make the greatest movie of all time, it would redefine the zombie genre forever.
I guess what I'm saying is I want an army of Jason Voorhees clones. Get to work, Danny Boyle.

Enjoy Friday the 13th on Friday the 13th!

Regards, Aaron