If the only thing that awaits us at the end of our lives is certain death, it's fairly reasonable to say that we should all just be cool to each other and enjoy the ride, right? But if ultimately, we're totally f--ked anyway, there's also the notion that how we treat one another doesn't really matter. At all.
In other words, being a nice guy isn't any better than being a giant douche in the grand scheme of things.
Well, f--k me, then. (I wonder if there are any comfy railroad tracks around here?)
Unless, of course, there's something more out there. Something that could pick us up and restore our faith in the world and the (potentially awful) people that inhabit it. But not just some thing. If only there was...some place. Some place we could go every week together for a few hours and hear amazing stories crafted by divine individuals that would speak to what's good and true in our own lives. Some place like...
...the movie theater.
It's almost a week later and I still can't wrap my mind around the animated what the the f--k-ness? of Sausage Party. Caught on a busy Saturday night with my wife in a sold out theater, Seth Rogen and his crew have delivered another raunchy, laugh out loud, stoner comedy...in the form of a religious allegory of all things.
Wait, what? The f--king movie with the talking hot dogs is a morality tale? Uh...yes? Yes it is.
Hold on a second. See, before you put on your Sunday best (for me, that's my nice t-shirt), or inexplicably bring your f--king children to this, let me be clear: it's primarily about guys wanting to get high and get laid, okay? But when these tasty treats realize that waiting for them in the great beyond is actually a brutal f--king death at the hand of one of their gods (uh...us), everything totally changes. For some of them.
I will readily admit the whole concept is rather clever, and I certainly laughed my ass off at times, but between you and me, I was kind of expecting more. Yes, I realize that expecting um...much/more?...out of a movie with that poster and that concept is probably as logical as eating half the shit I willingly consume (what adult eats Chicken McNuggets?). But when early word got out about this one, I was half-expecting something utterly f--king transcendent, you know?
Something I'd bring my kids to.
In other words, being a nice guy isn't any better than being a giant douche in the grand scheme of things.
Well, f--k me, then. (I wonder if there are any comfy railroad tracks around here?)
Unless, of course, there's something more out there. Something that could pick us up and restore our faith in the world and the (potentially awful) people that inhabit it. But not just some thing. If only there was...some place. Some place we could go every week together for a few hours and hear amazing stories crafted by divine individuals that would speak to what's good and true in our own lives. Some place like...
...the movie theater.
Wait, what? The f--king movie with the talking hot dogs is a morality tale? Uh...yes? Yes it is.
Hold on a second. See, before you put on your Sunday best (for me, that's my nice t-shirt), or inexplicably bring your f--king children to this, let me be clear: it's primarily about guys wanting to get high and get laid, okay? But when these tasty treats realize that waiting for them in the great beyond is actually a brutal f--king death at the hand of one of their gods (uh...us), everything totally changes. For some of them.
I will readily admit the whole concept is rather clever, and I certainly laughed my ass off at times, but between you and me, I was kind of expecting more. Yes, I realize that expecting um...much/more?...out of a movie with that poster and that concept is probably as logical as eating half the shit I willingly consume (what adult eats Chicken McNuggets?). But when early word got out about this one, I was half-expecting something utterly f--king transcendent, you know?
Something I'd bring my kids to.
