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Why the Dark Knight Rises will Probably Suck

M.A. Brotherton — Fri, 18 May 2012 05:00:00 +0000

I think by saying that, I just committed Geek Blasphemy. That doesn’t change the fact that I’m usually right about everything, and I have an deep, powerful sense that Dark Knight Rises is going to be one giant pile of crap. I’ve been saying it for months, mostly based on my own instinct on the matter, and kept telling myself I didn’t want to believe it could be good, that way if it was even just okay, I’d come out of the theater thinking it was amazing. Let’s call that the GI Joe Effect.

Still, at the back of my mind, something kept nagging. It wasn’t just the fact that I can’t allow myself to become too invested in the success of a movie that will disappoint me again, but that there is a definite scientific and sociological reason to believe that DKR will be so horrible that we’ll all burn effigies of Christopher Nolan.

The Comic Book Movie Law of 3

In every comic book movie series, the third movie is the one that destroys everything and begs for a reboot. I believe that studios do this on purpose so that they can continually make money on a franchise reboot. Here’s the cycle as I have come to observe it:

1 – The First movie is good. It makes us all warm and happy because our favorite heroes get to be on screen and we like that because we’re all actually 4 years old at heart.

2 – The Second movie is absolutely, ridiculously amazing. Everything that was good with the first movie is built on and they shore up any weaknesses.

3 – The Third movie is horrible and they reboot the series or they keep making them anyway.

4 – Any Franchise that makes it to 5 movies is so broken it will take a decade to reboot it, and it may very well never happen.

For example:

Superman

Superman the Movie

Origin story is put in place, everything is cool. Fortress of Solitude, Lex Luthur bumbles his way into some kryptonite and Supes saves the day by seducing Luthor’s girlfriend. Great Movie, right? Also, Supes reverses time… So, yeah, everything is awesome here.

Superman 2

Superman gets all human, bangs Louis Lane, then comes back and kicks Zod’s black spandex wearing ass. Also, there is an attack involving a giant cellophane S. Supes celebrates by making the outs with Louis so hard she forgets that he’s Clark Kent. Best Superman Movie ever, right?

Superman 3

The bad guy is freakin’ Richard Pryor. As amazing as Pryor is as a comedian, not exactly what you want in Superman Villains. Also, there is a fight scene in which Clark Kent kicks Superman’s ass. This is the highlight of the movie. It is probably the worst thing ever made…

At least until they made the other 2….

Ramifications:

Supermans 3-5 were so bad they had to reboot the franchise TWICE! The pretty awesome Superman Returns (which in and of itself was actually a remake of Superman 3, following the continuity of 1 & 2 and ignoring everything after that) and now there doing it again in 2013.

Remember this was just the tip of the iceberg. If you think other movies are immune check this out:

Batman

I don’t feel I need to explain to you why this movie was awesome. If you didn’t like it, you probably have no soul or taste and thus cannot be enlightened by my actions here to save you.

Batman Returns

I blame this movie for the reason that roughly 83% of everyone I know has a B&D/S&M fetish, and it singlehandedly launched America’s obsession with leather suits that lasted well into the Matrix Trilogy.

Batman Forever

Greatest Soundtrack of any movie ever made… worst casting of any movie ever made. Everyone knows that this was the death of the franchise, and it STILL Struggled through 1 more horrible piece of garbage. This movie was so bad it MURDERED VAL KILMER’S CAREER. Seriously, Madmartigan slowly fell from grace after this career missile, only finding the strength to rebuild his career AFTER he became the voice of K.I.T.T. in the relaunch of Knight Rider. A role that can only do good things for your soul.

SPIDERMAN

Spiderman 1

Peter Parker goes through all the things Peter Parker goes through and keep son heroing, BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT SPIDERMAN DOES, SON! It’s about as close to the comic book as you can get while still rewriting Spidermans powers. Also, it manages to make Kirstend Dunst even hotter than she is in Elizabethtown.

Spiderman 2

Doc Oc is the greatest bad guy ever. This movie has everything we ever wanted in a comic book movie. It will forever be sung into the praises of comic book movie history.

Spiderman 3

You remember this, right?

You remember that Spiderman went so emo that he made Anakin Skywalker look like he was a tough guy that didn’t complain too much.

THIS WAS THE WORST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED IN THE HISTORY OF COMIC BOOK MOVIES, AND THAT INCLUDES NICK FURY, ANGENT OF SHIELD!

Now, this was so horrid that it caused a relaunch that will already be coming out this year.

THIS YEAR.

Dear god, I hope they don’t give us an origin story again.

I don’t even want to get started on X-Men.

Poor, poor x-men.

Christopher Nolan is Different

This is a lie that I hear from just about everyone that I give my theory to. They swear that this is going to be amazing because Christopher Nolan doesn’t make bad movies. This is a lie, of course.

Nolan has made very good movies, but mostly gets his street cred from 3:

Momento – Which was amazing. That’s a given.

Dark Knight Returns – Which was good because of Heath Ledger and wouldn’t have been without him.

Inception – Which everyone pretends was good because they’re afraid if they admit they didn’t like it then everyone will assume that they didn’t understand it. This is because the movie is retarded. If you didn’t understand it, it’s not your fault, the movie just sucked. You can admit this.

But you won’t.

I will admit that I too have high hopes for Nolan’s ability to make something that should suck not suck as bad, but I’m loosing faith due to the worst casting decisions ever made by anyone ever.

First of all, if you read the cast list for Dark Knight Rises you might notice something:

It basically reads like every hipsters wet dream.

If I read that cast list to you, you’d assume I was giving you the guest star line up for Zoey Deschanel’s new show.

You can basically assume 2 things about anything with Joshua Gordan-Levitt in it.

1) It’s going to be both pretentious and preachy.

2) It’s going to be acclaimed by every hipster in the universe as the greatest thing they’ve ever seen.

Oh, you can also assume that the new bat-suit looks like this:

I’m just saying… be ready for hipster batman.

#DailyDoodle: Unicycle Jousting

M.A. Brotherton — Wed, 16 May 2012 23:49:02 +0000

I wish I could say that this was inspired by something other than the words, “Blame Morphine.”

#DailyDoodle – Smirking Genius

M.A. Brotherton — Wed, 16 May 2012 19:30:00 +0000

But why is he smirking:

What do you think? T-Shirt Design? T-Shirt Design.

Guest Post – Of Star Stuff, Glitter, and all things Sparkling… Words. (Domestictype)

M.A. Brotherton — Wed, 16 May 2012 17:00:00 +0000

I am made of a core love of the stars. One of my earliest memories is of star watching. Not in the “I totally saw Kim Kardashian!!!” way. I try very hard to not celebrate the mediocre. But when I was very little, my parents took me to see a 4th of July fireworks display. I was, naturally, terrified by the banging, sizzling, screeching of the fireworks. But after the beautiful firework faded, it was one of those lovely, clear nights that’s both dark but intensely bright with moon and star light. I was fascinated by the way they seemed to carve themselves into the blanket of existence so early in my memory.

We all know that I’ve dealt with all sorts of adversity that would probably make most people just throw in the towel and say “You know what, life? Have it your way. This is wretched.” But, like the stars, I seem to have a fighting instinct carved into my flesh all the way down to my soul and when I gave into the fact that writing was my destination, my journey, my star stuff, it seemed my instincts breathed a sigh of relief.

I had fought it off with a stick for far too long. I am still fighting. Right now, I am recouperating from surgery for ovarian cancer. Oh, and under the fun effects of morphine, so pardon me, if I suddenly call y’all up for a “Riders Of The Storm” Moment.Get a tshirt that says “Just Blame Matt.” He is my little brother, after all. But the thing is that while all the adversities I’ve squared off with would be dream crushers for so many, it adds fuel to the fire for many.

But the thing is that while all the adversities I’ve squared off with would be dream crushers for so many, it adds fuel to the fire for me. I’m a determined one, if there ever was such a girl. I let one run in with my father, who had his own destructive demons almost tear not just his but my world apart badger me off of writing until I was nearly as bad off as him. I was letting the (his and mine) shadows get at me from every corner. Words set ablaze to these and make my world right again.

Why? We see, I let my fire be snuffed out once. It was cruel and horrific and it resulted in nearly a decade or more of my making bad choices. I own these bad choices through writing, in a sense. But as Joan Didion once also said, “I write so I can learn more about the world around me.” This is also true. I write to explore and to push myself.

Next week at my daughter’s school is “Author’s Week” and they have some authors coming in to read childrens books every day. My daughter is sometimes my number one champion, she takes me seriously when nobody else does. I had no idea that she had told her teacher not only that I had cancer but that I was a writer. Whilst I still blog, work on my manuscript, and shockingly enough a project full of childrens stories with a friend, I am barely published, but I have written many ‘books’ for my kids. Her teacher wrote me and asked me to come in and be her classroom’s guest author. I am still flabbergasted.

I write partly because I need my children to see that your life must be made up of choices that are both sound but lead you to happiness. I also write because every word that rings true to me when it burns itself into my mind and onto a page, well, it’s a star in my own galaxy. I do this to myself because happiness is not necessarily a continuous supply of foie gras and Crystalle champagne but of small victories like a cup of tea and words that spill onto paper into a little victory in a morning where you thought stubbing your toe would be all you could accomplish.

Not to totemize it- but since having been diagnosed with cancer, a cancer that whispers death very quickly into the women who are diagnosed with it, writing and choices are even more important. I can say that “I refuse to die.” or something like that or I can fill my days with moments that are meaningful and victorious in their own right. For me, a lot of those moments include words. My own words. Which is something that makes me keep going.

A few friends call me a glitter tornado. I feign ignorance but there’s a reality to it. We’ve seen a lot of bad in my life. I don’t try and cover that up, but I want to move on in the best possible way. To me that means, make your days happier, brighter, and yes, sparklier. I want things to be bright, cheerful, happy, and better than they were before. I think we all deserve it. So, fine, I am a glitter tornado.

I believe, that when we die, we return to the stars and look down on the things we have created and help them along. It’s a romantic notion, yes. But when you have beautiful children and beautiful words and you want them both to make the world a little less ugly and cruel, I would rather be a star that winks at you when you need a smile in the night.

“You – you alone will have the stars as no one else has them…In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky at night…You – only you – will have stars that can laugh.” –The Little Prince by Antoine de Sait-Exupery

Sara Rose

Sara is the queen of sparkle and glitter. She is Glinda to the core, you know. You should follow her on twitter and read her awesome writing over at her blog Domestic Type.

#DailyDoodle – One of Those Days

M.A. Brotherton — Tue, 15 May 2012 21:29:11 +0000

I’ll tell you more about it later, when I have time… If I can get past the snipers.

#DailyDoodle – I know people with Superpowers

M.A. Brotherton — Mon, 14 May 2012 17:00:00 +0000

If you guys didn’t know, my friend Marshall Edwards, better known to his tweeples as @PrairieCityPost, has telekenetic powers, and his comic project (Prairie City Response) is actually his autobiography disguised as fiction.

It’s possible I made that up.

Or did I?

Still, you should head over to the PCR Kickstarter page and give them all of your spare money.

It is an awesome project that will help highlight the amazingly cool culture of Kansas City. You know, the stuff we doo well outside of inventing barbecue and jazz.

And yes, you should know that grillin’ ain’t barbecue, Texas…

Besides, everyone hates Texas.

Guest Post – Tracy Mangold – Why, oh, Why God, do I do this to Myself?

M.A. Brotherton — Mon, 14 May 2012 05:00:00 +0000

Why, oh, Why God, do I do this to Myself?

When Matt asked us to write a guest post answering this question, I have to admit, I had no clue what to write about. I knew I wanted to do a guest post because Matt is one of the most fantastic people I know. And to be featured on his site is an honor indeed. So thanks Matt – thank you for allowing me to be part of your guest posting series. Matt constantly inspires me with his creativity – his talent, his outlook on life – and his never-ending ability to make me chuckle. I keep telling him he needs to have his own comic strip and column in the newspaper.

In terms of the question, “Why, oh, why God, do I do this to myself?” I ask myself this quite often – especially when I’ve volunteered to do something only to find out I’ve bitten off more than I thought could chew but plodded on anyway despite my intense fears and overwhelming self-doubt.

I asked this question the first time I climbed the 100 foot ladder leading up to my fire tower. I am afraid of heights and once I had reached the level on the ladder just above the tree tops, I saw my life flash before my eyes. My heart raced and I felt like a porcupine clinging for its dear life to a tree as the wind gusts and pushes around it. And then, I took a breath, silently recited a few lines of Robert Services’ poem, The Quitter, opened my eyes and saw – really saw – the most amazing view. My heart stopped pumping like a jackhammer. I knew quitting wasn’t an option. It’s not in my vocabulary. I would never climb down from that fire tower a quitter. I would climb down and climb back up again day after day for as long as I had the job. And I grew to love it.

I asked this question once again when I got pregnant with our daughter. Getting pregnant is the fun part, telling everyone is pure joy and then there is the reality of morning sickness, extreme fatigue, back pain, sciatica, sleeplessness, strong aversion to once favorite foods, weird hair growth and other bodily “abnormalities” that you are unaccustomed to and let us not forget to mention the fact that you become a human Niagara Falls once your water breaks. And of course – the delightful “discomforts” of labor and the moment you realize where they came up with the term “ring of fire”.

I remember lying flat out on the floor one night in the early stages of my pregnancy – the room spinning and churning around me, asking WHY GOD – WHY on earth did I VOLUNTARILY do this to myself? For an instant I placed all the blame for my condition firmly on my husband but as they say, it takes two to tango, so I merely groaned and clung to the floor in hopes of finding gravity. And then I felt my little one move inside me and was reminded – yes I can do this and YES it is all worth it.

Living in general is a lot like that. I ask myself why on the bad days when all hope seems lost – WHY are we put through this – to experience loss – to lose loved ones and friends – financial stress – to be put through sickness and trials and tribulations – to watch our parent age – why? I didn’t ask for this! So why? And for all too many things there are no answers. Only questions.

The key is to keep asking – to never stop asking – to never give that sneaky old devil Complacency/Apathy the ability to take up residence in our heart. That would be death to our spirit. So we plug on. We ask WHY GOD OH WHY but then we take a deep breath and we find things to keep us going. We create, we build, we love, we LIVE. We find the courage to send our creations, our words, our feelings – OURSELVES out into the world. We face strong criticism at times and are unfairly judged – sometimes harshly so, but for every negative, there is that ONE positive reaction (at least one) that knocks all the bad things out of the ballpark and makes it all worth it. That’s why we keep going, keep pushing, keep on creating and keep living.

The why suddenly doesn’t matter so much anymore. And instead we ask ourselves HOW we can do this and we respond, “to the best of our abilities.”

Tracy Mangold is an amazing woman who writes over at Inkytwig! You should read her poems, view her photos, and make her your friend. She’ll probably be one of your biggest cheerleaders.

#DailyDoodle – Dwarf

M.A. Brotherton — Sun, 13 May 2012 17:00:00 +0000

Sometimes. I just want to draw a Dwarf, damn it.

#DailyDoodle – Little Girl

M.A. Brotherton — Sat, 12 May 2012 17:19:35 +0000

Hey, Look, I’m a nice Guy, I’ll let you color your own:

Guest Post – Jason Benoit: Tell it, Or Else

M.A. Brotherton — Fri, 11 May 2012 17:00:00 +0000

Oh, you think it’s easy; you think the words flow from my fingers like wine at a wedding. You think this shit writes itself; or maybe I have a clan of satanic chimps that pluck words at random from my Emo refrigerator-poetry magnet set, and I just click-clack them onto the interwebs until you’re ready to slash my wrists for me.

Well, have I got news for you Punkin; every sentence, every single word, is agonized over. Sometimes, I sit for minutes on end writing the same sentence again and again; arranging, rearranging, and re-rearranging over and over until it rings just right, until it sounds like the frantic screams inside my head.

The words scrape, claw, and dig into my mind, they whisper in my ear; they wiggle and waggle before my eyes. They take root, spread throughout my skull until every thought is another fruit bore by its mighty branches. I am given no choice in these matters, I will write these pages, or I will mutter these words to myself wearing a not-so-straight jacket in a 6×9 with rubber walls and imagined windows.

As I walk through my day and manage conversation, they lie idly by sunning themselves and sipping cocktails. They pretend at indifference; they are calm and cool, as amiable as a horny husband with high hopes, but as the sun waddles over the horizon and gives a knowing wink to the loneliness lurking in the shadows waiting to pounce as soon as the coast is clear, the cacophony erupts in my mind and the haste is born anew. There are nights when I tick-tack-click-clack until the sun comes rolling back over the Atlantic. I have no choice; it’s write, write, write, or die, die, die.

Oh, but Punkin, when I get it right; when all the smoke and mirrors fall exactly into place and I can give you a sample of the flavors of my madness, when you can finally see into my mind and hear the clanking of the cogs and gears, then and only then, my dear, will they give me peace. Then, I can sleep; then, I can breathe. When every word is exactly where it belongs, and the page draws the perfect picture, it is in that moment that I can think, if only briefly, that there is something I am good at.

Jason rights some amazing things over on his blog, Jason’s Brain. You should be sure to check him out on twitter, and also, buy his e-book. It’s brilliant!