Roland Emmerich's new disaster Film follows on from The Day After Tomorrow, a film that got us all re-cycling and turning our thermostats down...
In 2009, a whole three convenient years before the oncoming global disaster, a young American Astrophysists travels to India to meet an Indian Astrophysist (who also used to be Eastenders) who shows him the world is going to end because some underground water is boiling up without a tea pot in sight. Cue the next three years showing politicians acting shady with rich folk in-between claiming expenses from the public.
In 2012, John Cusack plays a writer (moonlighting as a limo driver) who conveniently takes his kids on a holiday to Yellowstone Park to go camping where they going on some motley trespassing to and meet said American astrophysist who conveniently is only one of 500 people to read Cusack’s only book (about the end of the world) and turns out to be a fan. Cusack then meets Woody Harrelsons crack pot conspiracy theorist who knows the world is going to end, but Cusack doesn't take him seriously because he's clearly bonkers (but he just thinks he's free).
Meanwhile, in Vegas, a big fat Russian bloke gets a text saying "Get your ass here, world about to end" or something similar. Blokey then does runner. Back to Cusack dropping the kids off back with ex wife and her new live-in-lipo-sucking-surgeon lover, before going to work to pick up to fat children who conveniently turn out to be fat Russian blokes spawns of Satan. After dropping a suitcase on fat kid alpha, it’s revealed to Cusack by fat kid that the jokes on him and he's going to die because the world is going to end. Cusack realizes everything crazy Woody in the wood said is true and rushes to save kids just as a massive earthquake hits San Francisco. After a thrill minute death ride Cusack and family in tow return to air port to find the pilot who Cusack paid to fly them to safety with a knock of Rolex is dead (how inconvenient) but the keys are in his hand! And bastard face wife’s new squeeze is training to be a pilot! How massively convenient!
Off they fly as San Francisco falls in to the ground, thanks to some piloting that would make the red arrows swoon, before landing back in Yellowstone to get a map showing where they can survive the end of the world. This time they have to outrun a volcano (its almost like fate doesn’t want them to live!). They then travel to Vegas to find someone crazy enough to fly to China, where they bump into fat Russian bloke and his entourage. Infect, Russian blokes concubine knows bastard surgeon because he fixed her tits. Wahey! Seven degree of separation or what! They have a plane, but no co-pilot, where as Cusack and Co. have a pilot but no plane! C to the O to the N to the you get the picture.
Off the fly toChina but round about Hawaii they run out of fuel and have to make an emergency landing into the sea...OF DEATH. Conveniently the world has gone silly on its axis and shifted a couple of thousand miles, meaning China has become a lot closer. Better still after crash landing they are only a few miles from salvation. Result!
After being intercepted by the Chinese government who take fat Russian and kids with them because they have tickets, Cusack and friends get picked up by a travelling Buddhist and his family whose brother has been building Arks (is there anything those Chinese can't build!) for people with a few spare billions to pay to get a seat on board. They all then sneak off to stowaway on the arks but through their stupidness, accidently break the arks door seals, meaning the ark won’t work properly. In the confusion of water and rich people screaming, Bastard surgeon gets killed in a massive mechanism (how convenient for Cusack) before said mechanism gets jammed and jammed (inconvenient). Cusack however, proves freezing Atlantic water is no match for the human spirit and an excitable 11 year old and he wrestles the offending article free, saving the lives of everyone on board (who he actually put in danger in the first place trying to get a free ride). They all the float off into the sunset and live happy ever after, Cusack gets his wife back and a 1/100 of the earth’s population live on. How convenient for them.
There are some other subplots, a love story between the astrophysist and the president's daughter and how most politicians are bastards, but I won’t go into it, it wasn’t convenient for this entries structure.
Thursday 3 December 2009
Sunday 22 November 2009
Lifes Good...Unless You're a Phone
Everyone has a mate, that one mate who is so sketchy you just don't know why your friends with them. Where were you yesterday? Are you out tonight? What you upto, I'm being chased by an angry gardiner, HELP? (lol). That friend always uses the same excuse, no matter what the circumstance is;
"Sorry, I didnt get your text, my phone isn't working"
I don't want to be that guy.
My phone isn't working. This wouldn't be such a problem beside the fact my phone dictates my entire life. It wakes me, it keeps me in touch with my friends and on rare occasions offers me a rare conversation starter when people see the back drop - a small girl who blows bubbles, stars, hearts, butterflies and occasionally, he brains out. Kidding, a small girl blowing things is far too weird a backdrop for a hetrosexual twenty something. Its an LG phone too, and no has those because no one likes LG, despite these interesting facts:
LG is Koreas second biggest conglomereate. The dynasty of Kim Jong-Il is the first.
The began making chemicals in the 1950s. These were the same chemicals that turned Alex Mack from High school girl to a super human blob with the super ability to become a puddle when danger was close.
LG currently stands for "Lifes Good" unless you own thier products.
This isn't the first time its done this. The phone was given to me by my cousin (who presumible realised it was cursed, abit like the video in the Ring films), who claimed she had upgraded to something better, a life free of supernatual mockery presumibly. At first, me and the new phone lived happily. Despite its clumsy design and ungangly size, it worked well. It was abit like getting a new girlfriend who isn't as pretty as your previous one, but you decide to look past the astetic problems and accept them as they are. So shes not as thin as her, size isn't everything! And lets be honest, she had a good design but could you turn her on by touch (screen)! Things were going well, but then the problems began to appear.
Firstly, the camera was awful. Every picture looked as if it had been taken by someone on the worse come down ever. Not only were the pictures blurred, the colours ran and made everyone look miserible or as if they were melting. Then the lack of reception started to grate, though to be fair that wasn't its fault, a person is only as thick as their own ignorence, and that ignorence was a cloud that seemed to cover most of the places I like to be in my house - my bed, my chair, my throne (my toilet). But the biggest problem was charging. Should the phone ran totally out of battery, it would simply not charge up and turn on like most fones, instead choosing to do a Lazerus resurrection performance and burst back into life hours after charging. And they didnt have fone chargers in biblical times. Or phones. Or Plugs. Or Cheese and pickle baguettes...Well the biblical french might of, but no one cares for them, their wine came from grapes, not water and a reimagining act from the son of God.
And then one day it just stopped turning back on. Nothing. All my numbers, all my blurry, pepper spraid pictures, all my textual intercourse, nothing but a sad memory gathering dust in my man draw. I went out, I got something new, a nice euroasian Sony Ericsson. At first we were happy. Sure she was shorter then the old fone, abit chubbier too, but she came back to me each night. But she wasn't the same, and to be honest, one day she stopped paying attention to reception and it gave me the perfect excuse to go back to my old, lovely LG phone. All the bad memories were forgotten, all the ill feeling vanquished. It was our second honeymoon.
But then the problems started. I'd be out late and wouldn't call (because I couldn't). We didn't pose for pictures anymore (because they looked crap). I found myself changing for her in ways I didnt like (from an indietastic Does It Offend You, Yeah? - We are Rockstars ringtone to the Black Eyed Peas - I've gotta feeling (I'm losing my self respect) ringtone). But, now, tonight, to top it all off, shes decided enough is enough and shes just stopped working. So inrevenge, like any good jilted lover I havedecided to do the manly thing and slag her off to the internet, and she knows I've done this. To spite me she won't work for atleast a week now, but might take me back if I offer an apology. I might just go to carphone warehouse and get a new one.
Peace out Ya'all x
"Sorry, I didnt get your text, my phone isn't working"
I don't want to be that guy.
My phone isn't working. This wouldn't be such a problem beside the fact my phone dictates my entire life. It wakes me, it keeps me in touch with my friends and on rare occasions offers me a rare conversation starter when people see the back drop - a small girl who blows bubbles, stars, hearts, butterflies and occasionally, he brains out. Kidding, a small girl blowing things is far too weird a backdrop for a hetrosexual twenty something. Its an LG phone too, and no has those because no one likes LG, despite these interesting facts:
LG is Koreas second biggest conglomereate. The dynasty of Kim Jong-Il is the first.
The began making chemicals in the 1950s. These were the same chemicals that turned Alex Mack from High school girl to a super human blob with the super ability to become a puddle when danger was close.
LG currently stands for "Lifes Good" unless you own thier products.
This isn't the first time its done this. The phone was given to me by my cousin (who presumible realised it was cursed, abit like the video in the Ring films), who claimed she had upgraded to something better, a life free of supernatual mockery presumibly. At first, me and the new phone lived happily. Despite its clumsy design and ungangly size, it worked well. It was abit like getting a new girlfriend who isn't as pretty as your previous one, but you decide to look past the astetic problems and accept them as they are. So shes not as thin as her, size isn't everything! And lets be honest, she had a good design but could you turn her on by touch (screen)! Things were going well, but then the problems began to appear.
Firstly, the camera was awful. Every picture looked as if it had been taken by someone on the worse come down ever. Not only were the pictures blurred, the colours ran and made everyone look miserible or as if they were melting. Then the lack of reception started to grate, though to be fair that wasn't its fault, a person is only as thick as their own ignorence, and that ignorence was a cloud that seemed to cover most of the places I like to be in my house - my bed, my chair, my throne (my toilet). But the biggest problem was charging. Should the phone ran totally out of battery, it would simply not charge up and turn on like most fones, instead choosing to do a Lazerus resurrection performance and burst back into life hours after charging. And they didnt have fone chargers in biblical times. Or phones. Or Plugs. Or Cheese and pickle baguettes...Well the biblical french might of, but no one cares for them, their wine came from grapes, not water and a reimagining act from the son of God.
And then one day it just stopped turning back on. Nothing. All my numbers, all my blurry, pepper spraid pictures, all my textual intercourse, nothing but a sad memory gathering dust in my man draw. I went out, I got something new, a nice euroasian Sony Ericsson. At first we were happy. Sure she was shorter then the old fone, abit chubbier too, but she came back to me each night. But she wasn't the same, and to be honest, one day she stopped paying attention to reception and it gave me the perfect excuse to go back to my old, lovely LG phone. All the bad memories were forgotten, all the ill feeling vanquished. It was our second honeymoon.
But then the problems started. I'd be out late and wouldn't call (because I couldn't). We didn't pose for pictures anymore (because they looked crap). I found myself changing for her in ways I didnt like (from an indietastic Does It Offend You, Yeah? - We are Rockstars ringtone to the Black Eyed Peas - I've gotta feeling (I'm losing my self respect) ringtone). But, now, tonight, to top it all off, shes decided enough is enough and shes just stopped working. So inrevenge, like any good jilted lover I havedecided to do the manly thing and slag her off to the internet, and she knows I've done this. To spite me she won't work for atleast a week now, but might take me back if I offer an apology. I might just go to carphone warehouse and get a new one.
Peace out Ya'all x
Wednesday 18 November 2009
Welcome to Sweet Dreams, Sweet Cheeks
Hello
Firstly welcome to my Blog Sweet Dreams Sweet Cheeks. My name is Joe Disco and I've set up this blog to write articles, reviews, essays and try my hardest to resist the urge to be self-indulgent (lets see how long that lasts).
I was going to be quite open and talk about myself, but apprently, its best to do these things with a sense of "mystique" (apprently). So, some of the following may or not be true.
I am a male.
I was born under a shooting star.
My favourite yoghurt is hazelnut.
Ohhhhh revealing (!) But to be honest, this blog aims to be show case for articles I have previously written for various mediums and ones that soon come in the future. Plus the occasional rant, because everyone likes a rant (I blame television).
Lastly, if you enjoy the blog, become a follower and send me messages to massage my ego. You might get a response, you lucky lucky sausage.
Much Love
Joe Disco
x
Firstly welcome to my Blog Sweet Dreams Sweet Cheeks. My name is Joe Disco and I've set up this blog to write articles, reviews, essays and try my hardest to resist the urge to be self-indulgent (lets see how long that lasts).
I was going to be quite open and talk about myself, but apprently, its best to do these things with a sense of "mystique" (apprently). So, some of the following may or not be true.
I am a male.
I was born under a shooting star.
My favourite yoghurt is hazelnut.
Ohhhhh revealing (!) But to be honest, this blog aims to be show case for articles I have previously written for various mediums and ones that soon come in the future. Plus the occasional rant, because everyone likes a rant (I blame television).
Lastly, if you enjoy the blog, become a follower and send me messages to massage my ego. You might get a response, you lucky lucky sausage.
Much Love
Joe Disco
x
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
