Sunday, August 23, 2009
A new Jason Appuzzo film in the works.
What should be in the works is a new Star Trek movie where they go back in time to the mid-21st century where The United State of Godmerica is waging endless war against the Islamosecularists and surviving on Soylent Grayishbrown (having finally settled both the illegal immigration and care for the aging problems--um, hmmm--tastes just like chicken!) to do battle with the Baseborg. I have a great idea for the "deafers" too. They can have this really cool video where a granny, surrounded by her loving family is getting ready to blow out the candles on a birfday cake, while a hearse glides silently up to the curb--a hearse with the logo of the Dept. of Health and Human Services/FDA, Soylent Green Division. We see granny, a surprisingly spry looking 80 year old, with a nice rack, nary a wrinkle and no glasses, preparing to blow out her candles--all 80 of them, by herself. In the background "Happy Birthday" plays; and then, strangely, it morphs into Mozart's Requiem (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=swkT07TP-mo). We watch in horror as the whitecoated, jackbooted thugs of the SEC (State Eugenics Collective) use a battering ram to gain entry and start to drag the "surprisingly spry granny" (that will be ad copy for the trailer) towards the yawning maw of their shining, black BFI/Deathstar 666, Mark 2 combination ex-sanguinator, eviscerator, compactor and mulcher. We are resigned to defeat; but, wait! The dining room table suddenly rises from the floor to reveal Numchuck Norris in his best "Braddock" headband with his trusty belt-fed M-60 machine gun(call him old fashioned, he goes with what works), dealing death and scowls with equal effect. At this moment, the rest of the family deploy a virtual arsenal of weaponry, ranging from a flintlock rifle to a shoulder launched Stinger missile and annihilate the anti-KKKristian merchants of death as the sound track once again changes to a medley of "Stayin' Alive", "The Electric Slide" and "God Bless th USA". As the dying "Angels of Death" bleed out on the lawn, and their vehicle blazes in the background, granny gathers her brood and says with a smile, "THANK GOD, we clobbered those bastards. Let's go eat some cake." And her grandson says, in pop-eyed wonderment, "Gee, gran, do you think you can blow out the hearse after you do the candles?". Much laughter ensues. I've updated my "deafers" slogan: "You can have my self-determination when you can pry it from my cold, dead--because of being denied coverage/necessary procedures--fingers."