Harry Potter and the Half-Assed Effort

You know those moments in life that send chills up your spine because you're waiting for them with frenzied anticipation? For example, remember Christmas Eve when you were five and you knew Santa Claus was going to bring you a new pair of roller skates? Or when you walked into the concourse at the ballpark for the first time holding your dad's hand? Or during your first slow dance in sixth grade when you're dancing with the girl you really want to kiss? Or at your first semi-formal during freshman year of high school when your date whispers in your ear that if you manage to procure some Arbor Mist and Zima for her and her friends to drink after the dance that she'll give you a handjob in your parents' garage so long as you don't look her in the eyes? Yeah, you know what I mean. Well that's kinda how I felt during the first half of July as I anxiously awaited the long-overdue release of "Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince." ('You got THAT pumped up over a kid's movie? You realize you're 26 years old, right?' Yes I did, yes I do, and do you realize that you're probably zero fun if you just thought that about me?) This piece of the epic HP puzzle is a crucial one, it is my favorite (and I dare say best) of the seven books in the series, and so I could. not. fuckin'. wait.

I went to the bar (Manny Brown's - good beer selection, so check it out!) next to the Neshaminy movie theater in Bensalem, PA on Tuesday, 7/14 at 10:30pm to have a few beers to calm myself/quench myself/get drunk enough to think that I could cast spells before the movie. Everyone was so lustfully enthralled by Potter-mania that the bar even offered new, half-priced "Harry Potter shots" -which, to my dismay, were really just "Washington Apple" shots...lame. Despite my distaste for such shots, I nonetheless happily downed a few, all the while pretending it was butterbeer. That made it taste better. It was better than my first thought, anyway, which was to pretend that the shot was actually "verita-serum," which would make me tell the truth, and then tell all the kids in the lobby that Santa Claus isn't real. But I opted against that in favor of the butterbeer thing at the last minute. A good move, I feel.

So, a few butterbeers and actual beers later, I arose my bar stool, left Hogsmeade (Manny Brown's), took the Knight Bus back to Hogwarts (stumbled across the movie theater lobby and into the movie theater itself), making sure to purchase some pumpkin pasties along the way (Twizzlers and a Cherry Coke from the concessions). After all that, I wrapped my wizard cloak around myself (hugged my friend Kooz) and said, "I'm excited!"....So that's what happened before the movie...

... You know those moments in life where you feel so deflated that you don't even want to speak, but rather you literally just want to throw you hands up in despair and look around your immediate environment for some tangible sign that life still contains some promise? You know, like when the roller skates aren't there on Christmas? Or when the game you went to watch with your dad gets rained out in the second inning? Or when the sixth grade girl's breath smells like Doritos - and not even cool ranch or nacho cheese, but the guacamole ones? Or when you realize that the girl giving you a handjob in the garage has big, cold, scaly, man hands? Again, yeah you know what I mean. Well, that's about how depressed I was at 2:47am on Wednesday, 7/15 when I walked out of the movie theater after enduring the sixth, depressingly uninformative and unimaginative installment of the HP franchise. I wanted to like it. I kept telling myself that there were "really awesome parts," but I could only lie to myself for so long. If you read the book, the movie is no good. In fact, it's the worst representation of the books so far. Coming to grips with this, I slowly dragged my feet out to the parking lot, hopped aboard my Nimbus 2000 (got in my Chevy Silverado) and flew (idled) slowly home.

Before any unobjective Potter-freaks just down my throat about my opinion here, let me just clarify my position. This book is so superior because it essentially exists to shed a bit more light/conjure up more empassioned emotions for the reader regarding the plights of the two most intriguing characters of the entire saga: Tom Riddle and Severus Snape. The movie sucks because it achieves NEITHER of these ends. We're supposed to acquire a significant amount of interesting information about horcruxes (quick - if you didn't read the book but did see the movie, can you tell me what horcruxes are?...I didn't think so), what they are, why Tom Riddle is so intrigued by them, what Riddle's family ancestry is like, and why, to a degree, he was steered toward evil. Just as importantly, we're supposed to discover exactly why (SPOILERS AHEAD!) the term "Half Blood Prince" refers to Severus Snape. And we don't! What the fuck is that?!? How can they just gloss over the plot item that serves as the fucking' title!?!? It makes no sense. When Snape reveals himself to Harry when he says, "I....am the half blood prince," we're probably supposed to feel stunned/surprised and perhaps even go "ooooooh!" or maybe even "aaaaahh!" Instead, I felt ashamed. He doesn't tell us WHY that nickname applies or anything. And in the book, it's not even necessary that he reveals it. Hermione sleuths the whole thing out on her own, which is why she's around in the first place - to be the smart library geek who can crack cases like this. But I guess this whole idea was just trivial enough to contort and relegate to a brief, vague conversation between Snape and Harry...Give me a fuckin' break.

Moreover, there's no funeral scene for Dumbledore. No big white coffin, no nothin'. That's unacceptable. Someone should have to go to Azkaban (maximum security prison) for making the decision to leave that bit on the cutting room floor. I realize the movie runs over two and a half hours even without this scene, but come on, they could have squeezed in a little 30-second piece in there. Seriously, don't ya think they could have something like this: slow-mo scene with sad, classical music playing loudly and drowning out all dialogue, professor McGonagall standing at an altar out in the courtyard in front of a white box mouthing some heavy-hearted words into a microphone (her wand), casting a concerned look at a weeping Harry and watching as the camera zooms in on him while Ron and Hermione hold each other off to the side, then slowly fading into the final scene of our three heroes standing and talking out on one of Hogwarts' many scenic balconies?.... Would that be so fuckin' hard? ('You put way too much thought into this.' Maybe, but that's better than putting zero thought into it, which is apparently what happened here, right? Right). God, I was disappointed by this. I almost yelled "DJ SMASH!" and started punching walls and throwing trash cans while I was making my way to the exit, but then I realized that this was no forum for Marvel Comics references that might scare the few children who were there at the midnight show. And so I resisted...

... You know those moments in life where you feel really bad about what you just said or did and therefore feel compelled to make immediate amends? You know, like when your extended family comes over for Christmas dinner and asks what you got from Santa Claus, and you respond by saying "I can tell you what that fat fucker didn't bring me - roller skates!"? Or when you tell your dad that it's probably his fault that it rained during the baseball game? Or when you tell the sixth grade girl that her tongue tastes like dogshit? Or when you tell the freshman girl in the garage that it feels you're being jacked off by a sasquatch with pruny, bathtub hands? Yeah, you know what I mean. Well that's how I feel now after soundly bashing this latest HP flick. With that in mind, allow me to address the highlights...

The non-romance between Ron and Hermione received a considerbale and welcomed upgrade in this movie (even though this should be the darkest/gloomiest of the stories, and certainly not the "cutest" one. But I'll let that slide) as Hermione's attraction/fledgling love for Ron becomes almost immediately more overt, which leads to some genuinely funny (and at-times touching) moments involving the two of them and Ron's short-term love interest, Lavender Brown. One particular scene that stands out features Ron, half-unconscious in a hospital bed as he recovers from imbibing a poisonous potion, mumbling to himself as both Lavender and Hermione watch over him, each convinced that Ron is thinking of her. Ron's sleep-talking eventually becomes comprehensible as he clearly (and longingly) says the name "Hermioneeeee" to himself. Hermione gets happy, Lavender gets pissed and storms out of the room, and a spectating Dumbledore then quips, "So good to be young; to feel love's keen sting." Ha! Believe me, it's hilarious... especially when you consider that Snape is also present in this scene, and he clearly doesn't give a shit about any of it.

Speaking of relationships and things, the blossoming mutual attraction between Harry and Ginny Weasley is also satisfyingly conveyed. While the scenes between the two of them are certainly pleasing enough (despite the fact that they kiss in the room of requirement instead of the Gryffindor common room where they're supposed to..), their budding romance / their relationship's dynamic on the whole becomes even more genuinely heartwarming and such as Ron, suspicious of their feelings for each other, instinctively adopts the role as the protective big brother to Ginny. The scene where Ron forcefully inserts himself into the small spot on a couch between Harry and Ginny, ostensibly to offer Harry some of the cakes he's holding but really to get him away from his sister, is particularly enjoyable, and it also carries with it the ancillary quality of serving as a welcomed - not to mention needed - recess from the otherwise choppy/sloppy action of the central plotline.

Representing the polar opposite of cute, romantic characters, it seemed to me that Thomas Felton, who plays Draco Malfoy, did an excellent job in his role. ('He's been playing the same character for six movies! And you're just recognizing him now?' Dude, let me explain!). For the first five movies, Draco has been nasty, sinister, and Harry's second-biggest antagonist (If you are wondering who the biggest one is, it rhymes with "Poldesmort," and if you didn't realize that immediately, then you are something that rhymes with "leparted"), and while I'm no experienced thespian, he's done a decent job in this capacity to date in my estimation. However, in this movie, the breadth of Draco's expressed emotions broadens, and considerably so. In addition to simply expressing his hatred/bitterness for all things Harry Potter, he also has to consistenly appear almost unbearably preoccupied, scared, worried, etc. as he deals internally with the crushing magnitude of the task placed before him by Voldemort (murdering Dumbledore). There are several scenes that feature Felton by himself, having to act without speaking or interacting with anyone else, and I think he conveys his characters frantic/chaotic emotional state very well. Heavy breathing, slight trembling, etc. All the little shit. I feel like that kind of stuff gets overlooked, and so I feel it warrants mentioning.

Lastly, to tie up the limited number of positives here, Jim Broadbent also does a solid job as the potions teacher with an inconspicuous past, Horace Slughorn. He's quirky, and he has funny facial ticks and mannerisms that make you simultaneously unafraid of him and wary of him. I enjoyed him in just about every scene in which he appeared, which puts his performance right in line with the rest of the consistently superb ones turned in by previous, short-term Hogwarts professors like Kenneth Branagh as Gilderoy Lockhart, David Thewlis as Remus Lupin, Brendan Gleeson as the fake (and real) Alastor Moody, and Imelda Staunton as Dolores Umbridge. Amazing, right? You can't find a single one listed just now that you didn't thoroughly enjoy, can you?....Like I said, amazing.

Unfortunately, I wish I could use that word - "amazing" - to describe "Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince" in summation. But sadly, I can't. Here's hoping that the fact that the seventh book ("Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows") is being split into two movies will allow for significantly more attention to detail, or at least acknowledgment of the most substantive stuff, which this movie sorely lacks. "Half Blood Prince" will leave the serious HP fan at a nauseating loss for an explanation regarding the lack of important content, it will leave the casual movie-goer confused, and it will leave both sets of audiences woefully uninformed. That last part particularly is a damn shame. This could have been a great movie. It still has its share of fun moments, its heartwarming moments, and its action-packed moments, but all of them can not fill the canyon-like gap between the expectation level for the movie and what it actually delivered, which really wasn't all that magical, to say the least.

Grade: C-

That's all for now. Peace out, muggles.

DJ

A Healthy Dose of Summer Banter

Oh, hello. I didn't notice you there. It's me, your pal Deej. Deej Mazzola. Come hang out with me for a while, won't you?...Good. There's sure to be something in here that will cause you to laugh, scoff, and/or contemplate. Doesn't that sound like fun? Yeah. Yeah, it does, I know. But first, go get a drink - a tall, stiff drink and relax... unless you're at work, in which case, close out all of your ultimately meaningless spreadsheets (and no, I don't care if you're proud that you just learned the =sum() function or if you learned how to color code your numbers. I said close it out, so close it out! In fact, don't even elect to save all changes when you do so. Just fuck it. It can all be done again later. We have far more imortant things to tend to now) and whatever other boring programs you currently have running that make you want to put your computer through a woodchipper, and hang out with Deej for a while. Just make sure you keep a second internet explorer window open to Google.com, with the words "microsoft excel training" typed in the search field. This way, if your boss walks by, you can simply alt+tab over to it to make it seem like you're taking the initiative to hone your computer skills. Then, when the boss passes you by, you can quietly laugh and tell said boss to go fornicate him or her self....Alright, we all settled in? Good. Away we go...



I. MOVIES - HELP THE DAGO GET IN THE GUINNESS BOOK OF WORLD RECORDS!



On June 24th, 2009, the movie "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen" opened in movie theaters nationwide. To call this thin slice of alien-robot heaven "heavily anticipated" would be an Optimus Prime-sized understatement. "Transformers" had the second biggest five-day box office opening of all time, earning just over $200 million in that time (the only movie to outdo it was last year's "The Dark Knight," which is perfectly acceptable). It also had the biggest opening in the history of IMAX.






Alright, why do I mention all of this? Well, there's a couple reasons. First, I'm the gigantic geek who still has an Optimus Prime action figure in his bedroom on his night table. I keep him there in case of emergency - and by "emergency" I mean "in case I come to discover that the girl I'm making out with in my bed is terrible at performing oral sex, at which point I'll just reach for Optimus Prime and transform him back and forth from truck to robot over and over to keep myself entertained until the girl realizes that I've lost interest and leaves my apartment." Kidding. Kinda. Not really. Anyway, I arbitarily feel as if I've been an honorary autobot since I fell in love with this product line when I was but a wee, uni-browed lad of three years. And as such, I simply feel compelled to boast the successes/triumphs of the franchise that managed to weave itself into the very fabric of the dago you now know and love (or loathe, or feel completely stoic about) today. So that's one reason...



...More relevantly, however, I mention this movie because it's outstanding box office performance so far means that it's gonna be around for a while. It's going to be in theaters well into August. This gives me ample opportunity to see it again and again. And that's what I plan on doing. In fact, consider this blog item the introduction of my campaign to break the world record for "number of times a film is seen by one person during it's initial run in movie theaters." I think I can do it. Unfortunately, I'm currently sitting at a paltry and embarassing TWO viewings. This is where you, reader, become useful. See, I won't see it again by myself. It's not nearly enough fun (Trust me on this; I tried it with the first Transformers movie). So I want to see it with YOU! Yes, you. Whoever you are, I don't care. I have a world record to break here! ('Ugh, Transformers are so stupid, DJ. You're ridiculous. Why would I want to go see that stupid movie with you?!?' Hold on, I got you taken care of). You want incentive, you got it. If you agree to aid me in my quest to become the official biggest Transformers geek of all time, I will not only purchase your ticket, but I will also buy for you TWO drinks of your choice before or after the movie. And as for the movie experience itself, don't worry if you don't like the premise, for watching me become more quitely excited than a gay kid with a popsicle will be worth it alone. So how 'bout it people?!!? Wanna help DJ out? If so, drop me a comment here and let me know. I'll get in touch and we'll figure out details. Also, if you just feel like reminding me that I'm the biggest tool of all time for undertaking such an....ummmm, undertaking, then that's cool too. I'm ready for it. Just remember, if you think the idea of Transformers is cheesy on the surface, you should know that there is more to them than meets.....well, you know.



II. MUSIC - PANDORA. LET DJ THINK OUTSIDE THE "BOX" FOR YOU! (GET IT? LIKE PANDORA'S BOX? NO? YES? NO?)



If you don't know about pandora yet, I humbly suggest to you that perhaps its time to emerge from in that cave or under that rock where you are currently dwelling. Briefly, http://www.pandora.com/ is a website designed to allow you to create radio station(s) (for free, by the way) customized to your musical preferences, the products of which are streamed right through your computer, out into the atmosphere, into your waiting ears, and so on. On the whole, this is a fantastic idea, and the product is absolutely worth your time...if you have the time, that is. It's a lot of fun tweaking the types of songs that will be played on your stations. However, all of this can also become somewhat cumbersome. In order to ideally narrow down the range of music on a particular station to that which you really want, you'll constantly have to monitor the songs the website churns out, making sure to give a "thumbs down" to the tunes that sound to you more like noise than a melody. Otherwise, the website will "think" you like it and will continue to produce similar stuff. So, again, while it's all a really fun idea, who honestly has time to constantly monitor this shit?....



....I do. I just leave my radio station playing all day at work, and every time I hear something that either sucks or just doesn't fit the genre of music to which I'm trying to limit a particular station, I just quickly alt+tab to it (that's two alt+tab references in one blog! You're so impressed), give it a quick thumbs down, and a new song instantly starts up. As of now I have four radio stations on my account that are each taking shape quite nicely as I continue to mold them, and I invite you to come check them out at your leisure by clicking here.



For the sake of brief synopses (and also for the sake of seizing the opportunity to use the fantastic plural word "synopses" in my blog), here are brief descriptions of the stations currently running on my page:

1. DagoRock radio - What I consider my "flagship" station. It's a comprehensive mesh of all the rock music I like. Metal, alternative, southern, grunge, 80's hair/glam, classic/60's and 70's, it's all there. You're likely to hear Credence Clearwater Revival, followed by Rage Against the Machine, the Beatles, Bruce Springsteen, Guns n Roses, Warrant, Weezer, etc. It should have something for everyone.


2. Modern Guilt - As the title suggests, this is my "guilty pleasures" station. Contained within is a bunch of homogenous yet catchy top-40 stuff. Flo Rida, Kelly Clarkson, Beyonce, Britney Spears, and others of this embarassingly infectious ilk can be found here for your private - very private - enjoyment (Yes, I do realize the irony in me publicizing this information just after saying that it should be private).
3. Songs to Kill People to - I suggest listening to this station if you're either a) getting ready to lift weights, b) are having a really bad day, or c) flexing insatiably into the mirror. This is the brutal stuff. The heavy, nasty, scary shit that makes you feel like your ears are actually getting penetrated without consent..."rape" I think is the word kids are using these days. Yes, this music will rape your ears, and then it'll leave without apologizing or buying you breakfast. Seriously though, it's crazy, but taken in small doses at the right time, this stuff can be downright cathartic. In other words, it can be a great medium for venting your frustration. Mudvayne, White Zombie, Megadeth, Marilyn Manson, Tool, Sepultura, and other demons of rock to be found here.


4. Oldies/Do-Wop Radio - This is dedicated to the happy music that came before the Beatles showed up. I love this shit. In fact, I'm listening to Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons do "Walk Like a Man" as I'm writing this. That's what you can expect here. Lots of Elvis, Roy Orbison, the Everly Brothers, Bobby Darin, and other oldies here. This is just fun.

I urge you to go check these out so you can tell me what you think, tell me what you like, give me your suggestions, see if you'd like to create your own station, or - since I like doing it so much - letting me know a different kind of station you'd like so I can just go ahead and make it for you to save you the effort. Such a magnanimous dago I am.... Any way you slice pandora, its really a solid way to share good music, discover new music (or re-discover old goodies), and eliminate crappy music. All good things.

III. SPORTS - STEVE MCNAIR WAS A GREAT QB. EVERYTHING ELSE AINT OUR BIDNISS

Ya know, I was all set to write a sports item detailing how ludicrous the rules of the baseball all-star game are, or how overtly proud we should all be of Andy Roddick, or a million other things. But then Steve McNair's stupid, 20 year-old terrorist girlfriend had to go and kill him and herself. ('DJ she was Iranian! That doesn't make her a terrorist you ignorant asshole! Nyerrr!' Shut up, yes it does). And what necessitated that I drop other sports-related topics in favor of this one was not the terrorist's actions, but moreso the reactions from the sports community that followed.

Let me start by asking - did you happen to see Jeff Fisher's (McNair's former coach from the Tennessee Titans) press conference after he the news of his death? Check it out here. Actually, fast forward to about 1:20 into the video, then start counting how many times Fisher says "The Steve that I knew..." Actually, don't bother trying to count unless you have like a TI-83 graphing calculator with you, because he says that phrase so many times that I think the final count somehow becomes an irrational number - ya know, like the square root of 2. Basically, what this means it that Jeff Fisher was diplomatically admitting "I didn't know shit about the real Steve McNair, who apparently was a deadbeat dad who essentially abandoned his children so he could go diddle a terrorist." I don't fault Fisher for his choice of words. I think he handled the situation admirably. He chose to remember "the Steve he knew" for the loyal team mate, fierce competitor, and MVP-caliber quarterback he was. I don't see anything wrong with that. I think it's important to note/realize that Steve McNair had some pretty abhorrent flaws as a human being, but I also don't think that should tarnish his legacy as a football player...Gosh, ya know, this reminds me of something and someone else I wrote about recently....Man, what was that...

...Oh, right! Michael Jackson! Remember my last blog (and if you don't, go read it!) when I said that it's just in our nature to look past the flaws of influential people so to keep their legacy in tact and that we should employ that philosophy on MJ's behalf as well? Well, this McNair thing is just another sterling example of that concept in action. The guy had a crumby marriage, he cheated on his wife, and he left his kids high and dry. That's despicable, right? Right. Yet his funeral was broadcast on television for the entire country to mourn him, a memorial service was held at the Titans' football stadium so McNair fans could come pay their respects (which they did, and in droves), and every single sports columnist/journalist I've listened to has said quite frankly that it's okay to leave the other details be, and that all we should remember is how he positively impacted the NFL and did his part to make our Sunday afternoons more exciting. So, I'm just sayin', if my Benjamin Franklin/Thomas Jefferson examples didn't work for ya last week, maybe this considerably less monumental one one will. If we can choose to remember McNair (who by and large had far less positive influence on humanity than Michael Jackson did) in a positive light despite his disappointing shortcomings, why can't we do so for MJ? Answer me that, Jacskon haters.... Oh, and if you still have your calculator in your hands, type in 58008 then flip it upside down....Hilarious, right?...

IV. A CONUNDRUM OF VOCABULARY

They say - "they" being the same abstract, intangible folks who tell us to drink five to eight glasses of water a day, exercise for 30 minutes a day, and exercise protected sex (each of which is ridiculous, by the way. That much water will make you constantly pee/feel bloated, 30 minutes is not nearly enough time to make a noticebale difference, and standard methods of protected sex are not nearly as much fun as pulling out) - that English is the most difficult language to master, and this case, I dare say "they" are correct. And I can prove it with one example - did you know the word "cleave" can mean either a) to split apart, or b) to bond together? I'm not kidding. If you need proof, just take a look at dictionary.com's definitions and see for yourself. Could you imagine trying to teach this to a foreigner for the first time? It's like saying "Ok, now 'up' means 'up' but it also means 'down.' Does that make sense to you?" I know that if this lingual rubix cube was introduced to me at any time before my, say, 25th birthday or so, my brain would not have been developed enough to handle it, the veins in my temples would instantly rupture, and I'd collapse, lifeless, with blood and other various fluids oozing from my eyes, ears, nose, and probably my grundle as well.

Furthermore, what do you call words such as these (presuming there is more than one of them)? We have "homophones", which are words that sound the same but have different meanings and are sometimes spelled differently, such as 'bare' and 'bear.' Ok, no problem with those. We also have "heteronyms," which are words that are spelled the same but which sound different and have different meanings, such as 'Polish' and 'polish.' Great, got it.....So what the fuck do we call words that are spelled the same, sound the same, but which have not just different, but completely opposite meanings? Is there even a word for it? I can't imagine that there is. With that in mind, I nominate that we add either "cleave-onyms" or "ridiculo-phones" to our vernacular. Honestly, this whole irrational concept has me upset and confused. It will cleave to my mind all day to the point where I want to cleave my own arm off. (See???!? My apologies if that sentence almost made your head explode). Cleave cleave cleave cleave cleave....That's it, I'm moving to Italy. Shit has got to make more sense there.

V. A COMEDIAN WITH WHOM YOU SHOULD FAMILIARIZE YOURSELF

Greg Giraldo. He partakes in all the Comedy Central "roasts." I just saw him at Helium Comedy Club in Philly on 7/10, and I genuinely started to spasm from laughing so hard. As long as you're not too uptight and can handle a little brutally honest and sarcastic irreverance, you'll love this guy (and if you can't handle it/don't think its funny, I suggest you lighten up a bit). Check his website out to see if you recognize him, or better yet, check out some of his stuff on youtube here. In case you're wondering, no, it's not safe for work.

VI. RANDOM NOTES: I LOVE MY COUNTRY

Do yourself a favor and check out this story. That's right, some dumb bitch in New York fell down a manhole while walking and texting. And now her family is planning to sue (of course). Ya know, I don't even care who's right and wrong here, I just mention this because it's really funny to think about, and because it adds even more credence to my theory that the overwhelming majority of people from New York are morons. Don't believe me? - GO THERE.

Congratulations going out today to the fine folks of Des Moines, Iowa as it appears that the city is getting closer to repealing a law that currently forbids any and all public dancing between the hours of 2am-6am. That's right, you can get arrested in Des Moines for dancing at 2:01am. The article I read even features this gem "...the law shows that we aren't keeping up with the times." Really? You don't say!

VII. FOOD - CHIMA BRAZILIAN STYLE STEAKHOUSE. PREPARE TO LOOSEN YOUR BELT

If you're not familiar with how Brazilian steakhouses operate, just think of it as a cavalcade of various luscious meats aggressively marauding its way into your mouth, and which will only cease its swift advance if you somehow manage to muster the willpower to tell them to stop. It's the greatest yet potentially most lethal dinner concept ever. The last time I went to Chima (located at 1901 JFK Blvd. in downtown Philly, not far from the Franklin. Check the site here.), I only eventually forced myself to leave for fear that the lining of my stomach was legitimately about to tear open and that I would collapse in the middle of the restaurant, still helplessly trying to scrape more steak into my mouth as I fall gluttunously and unceremoniously from my chair.

Don't let that scare you though. Go to Chima. Revel in its limitless bounty. Not only are the many different kinds of steaks (and sausage, pork, and chicken choices) endless in quantity, they are also each very good. And you never have to wait long for more once the food starts coming!Waiter after waiter after waiter emerges from the kitchen brandishing a sword - there's probably a better name for the thing they're holding, but essentially it's a sword - in one hand, upon which is impaled a large hunk of meat, and a carving knife in the other. They will each come to your table and ask if you'd like some of what they have on their respective sword of awesomeness (a hint: say "yes" a lot). If you're picky about eating your meats rare/well/whatever, the waiters will also ask you from which area of the hunk of meat you would prefer he cut your portion as some areas are cooked well, others rare, and everywhere in between. Amazing, right?

If and when you do decide to go there, here are some tips:

1. They offer you a salad/soup buffet to start along with some bread. SKIP THIS ENTIRELY. You'll be full before the meat comes, and then you'll be sorry.


2. Despite my previous hint in the above paragraph, remember to say no if you see the same cut of meat coming around to your table twice. Trust me, there is enough variety to keep you guessing until you're good and full.


3. Drink lots of red wine. Just because its awesome.


4. For the ladies/gays: Do NOT look in the mirror naked or get on a scale when you get home. You will not like what you see.

As long as you obey those guidelines, you should be fine. But still, you might die from eating too much. This is why they should invent dress pants featuring elastic waists.

Alright, I think that'll be all for now. Thanks for reading. Drop me a line, offer suggestions, rip me to pieces, whatever, it's all encouraged. See you next time.

DJ

Welcome, bitches!

Hello people. Glad you stopped by.

I like to observe people, things, events, etc. and draw conclusions on them.... which is a euphemism for "I judge everything." I'm often critical, at times downright cynical, but I don't try to curtail this method of thinking because it's very conducive to sarcasm. And I love sarcasm. I love pushing the envelope. I love exploiting people and things that are stupid. I'll give credit where credit is due of course, but it's just not as much fun.

It is within this general mental framework that I will be relaying my observations, musings, and judgments in this blog. I'll typically address issues in the realms of sports, movies, music, celebrity gossip, some current events, books, video games, and every once in a while, politics, as well as some randoms items sprinkled in here and there, of course. So if all that sounds like a good time to you, read on. Otherwise, I dunno, go log back on to twitter or something. Ok, here we go:

I. MUSIC: THE KING IS DEAD. WEEP FOR HIM.

Since I heard of his death late last week, I've been seriously mourning the loss of Michael Jackson. And you should too. This is maybe the most universally appealing and influential musician/entertainer of all time. Actually, there's no "maybe" about it. Blacks, whites, girls, guys, children, adults, smart people, retards, straights, homos, you name it, we all like his music, at least some of it. As a matter of fact, I'd be willing to bet that everyone reading this legitimately "loves" at least one Michael Jackson song. Nobody else - nooooooooobody else - can say that. No way. Madonna? Nope, lots of straight men don't like her stuff. Same goes for Prince. Elvis? Ehhh, maybe, but when's the last time you saw a black dude jailhouse rockin'? Exactly. You get the idea. And it is for this reason - his uniquely encompassing appeal - that Michael Jackson deserves to be missed, remembered, and revered just as much if not more than John Lennon...

(...We now pause for all the people reading this who think they're witty to think to themselves, 'Yeah, but the difference is John Lennon didn't have sex with littly boys.' ......)

To those of you who just had thoughts similar to that mentioned above and have therefore decided to treat MJ's death as a pleasant riddance rather than a tragic loss, I'll counter by saying that you're not a very good American. Why? Well, what do you think of Benjamin Franklin? He's a founding father, a patriot, a great American, right? Right. Of course he was! No argument. We even built a science museum in his honor right in my hometown of Philadelphia. But much like the man's legacy, the museum only seems pristine and appealing until you bother to look deeply into it when you discover that it's also kinda filthy. In other words, Benjamin Franklin was also a glutton, a shitty father, and a womanizer. But that doesn't matter to you, does it? No, it doesn't, and I'll tell you why - because we don't like to remember our heroes for their flaws. We revel in the selective nature of our memories. Thomas Jefferson is another one. He was good at being president, and that's just swell. In fact, he is such a pillar of our proud American history that people still look up in wonder at his likeness carved into the side of a mountain in South Dakota. But no dad will ever take his little boy to Mt. Rushmore and say, "Gosh, will ya look at that, Timmy? That's Thomas Jefferson, the man who fucked his 'nigger' slaves and had lots of illegitimate children." And if any father ever does say that to his son, I'll laugh and tip my cap to his sense of honesty, though I will admit that I'd question his phrasing...

(...We now pause for those reading this who think they're smart to think to themselves, 'this is ridiculous. Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Jefferson are just a little bit different than Michael Jackson' followed by several scoffing noises and shakes of the head....)

And to you who just did I say again....you're styooooooopid, for the principle is the same. We remember what we want to remember about influential people because we in America at some point unofficially decided that their body of work is so important that their shortcomings should be overlooked. And, given my continuing and unwavering adoration for the King of Pop, I can't say I disagree with this concept. I'm just arguing here that it should absolutely be employed on his behalf as well. And armed with that reasoning I make the following plea: I urge people not to remember Michael Jackson's flaws - glaringly obvious and disgusting as they are -, but to remember how much fun it was as a kid to try and moonwalk across the living room, how fun and funny it was every time you were at a dance/prom/wedding/whatever when you and a friend re-enacted the goofy knife fight scene from the "Beat It" video (and how much you've always kinda wanted that pink jacket...), how much you wished the tiles would light up under your feet when you were dancing like they did in the "Billie Jean" video, how cool you thought it was when MJ turned into a panther at the end of the "Black or White" video, how awesome the "Thriller" video still is, how grateful you were when you discovered the "Off the Wall" album in the mid-90's, how excited you were when they came out with a "Moonwalker" video game, how hot you thought Lisa Marie Presley's ass looked in his "You are not Alone" video, how much you secretly enjoy the Free Willy song when nobody else is around, how in awe you were when you wondered just how he managed to do that ridiculous lean-move at the end of the "Smooth Criminal" video, how much you'd actually rather be listening to "Wanna Be Startin' Something" every time you hear that Rihanna song that copies it at the end, how much cooler (for all you Philadelphia Eagles fans out there) Donovan McNabb instantly became in your mind when he started doing "Thriller" dance moves in the end zone, and how you have secretly been wishing he would make a solid comeback for years. His influence warrants your gratitude at least. Mourn the man. He wasn't the king for nothing.

II. SPORTS: THE VICK/STALLWORTH RIDICULOUSNESS, AND THE OBVIOUS ANSWER

I'll be the first to admit that I don't know ALL of the details of each case, but here's the cold, hard truth: Michael Vick A) organized dog fights, and B) went to jail for multiple years. Dante Stallworth A) had more than the legal limit of alcohol in his blood, got behind the wheel of his car, and killed a man upon crashing into him, and B) is serving a 30 day prison sentence. Am I just....how the fuck can.... I don't even.....huh?!?!?

Seriously, is it just me, or does this seem like a complete crap shoot to anybody else? Has our legal system completely abandoned reason altogether? How is it that mistreating dogs is essentially worse - as in "years locked in a cell" worse - than killing someone? If its starting to sound like I think that human lives are more valuable than those of pit-bulls, its because I'm trying to sound like that. And I'm doing so because it's true. People are more important than dogs As a side note, this does not make me an asshole. It makes me a realist. However, I'm going to test the bounds of my sense of realisitic thought when I, given what has already transpired for these two athletes, make the following suggestion: handcuff Dante Stallworth, cover him with bacon, and throw him in a ring with five starving pit-bulls for five minutes (he'd live), and in the mean time put a Cleveland Browns jersey on Michael Vick as they'll clearly have a roster spot to fill. Not only would this be pleasing to those of us with a hearty appreciation for irony (es-PEC-ially because this would mean Michael Vick would be playing for a team whose mascot is a dog! Ha!), but it would serve as a quick way for Stallworth to pay his debt to society as well as just retribution for the comparatively unfair punishment Vick has had to endure.

Moreover, the Browns would make out like bandits here. Let's stay the pit-bulls fuck up Stallworth enough that he has to miss eight weeks of the season to recover from all his bite marks and lacerations and such. Well from a football operations persepective, that's no different from any other season when Dante' misses half the fuckin games because he's always hurt, right? Perhaps more importantly, with the addition of Vick, the Browns could ship Derek Anderson out of town for a draft pick or something while his stock is still kinda high, start Brady Quinn's maturation process by giving him important game experience, but bring in Vick on 3rd and short situations where he can confuse defenses and run for the 1st down or something. Then, by week 8, the Browns can waive whoever turns out to suck that year, welcome back Stallworth, and bam!, just like that, Brady Quinn has another skilled, veteran target, the Browns are rolling, and Michael Vick and LeBron James can go out and crush some local Cleveland vagina between games. Everybody wins, even you the football fan.

III. A QUICK NOTE TO MEN ABOUT GOING TANNING - Stop. If you want to get tan, go outside. If you're worried about burning, then I suggest you stop being such a pussy. You can apply sunblock and still get color, you know. And if you're too shy to show off your body outside, then what the fuck are you tanning for anyway? Spend your money to join a gym instead of to lay inside a tanning bed , get your fat ass in gear, and then go outside. That's two-birds, one-stone right there - you get in shape and you get your skin the color you want it to be. See, I know everything.

IV. WEBSITE TO CHECK OUT: http://www.sporcle.com/ Ridiculous amounts of fun.

V. MOVIES: WHO WOULD PLAY YOU?

Many times in my life I have discussed what a DJ Mazzola biographical movie would be like, and of course, who in Hollywood would play the lead role. I feel this is a very good conversation to have, for not only is it just flat-out fun, but it also can be considerably enlightening. You can learn a great deal about yourself from listening to the names of the actors your friends throw out there for you. And it's not just about who looks the most like you. In fact, looks should really only serve to narrow down the range of actors to those with similar height, hair color, and in some women's cases, breast size. From there, you should still have a decent crop of people from whom to choose. And out of that remaining field, whoever they choose is likely to be a person who seems to accentuate (whether in typical roles they play on screen or in real life) qualities your friends also see in you.

The last time I remember playing this game I came away feeling pretty good about myself. When I first posed the question "Who would play me in a movie?" to my friends, the first name I heard was Ray Romano....Yes, Ray Romano. Clearly, the person who thought of this narrowed the list of actors down to tall people with dark hair first. Fine. Good. But from there, I had to wonder about why Ray Romano was chosen.... Real quick, reader, if I were to ask you to describe Ray Romano in one word, what would it be? It would be "funny," right? Right. So, despite the fact that Ray Romano is not exactly an adonis and is not really eye "candy" so much as he is eye "week-old broccoli" or something, I still came away from my conversation that day feeling pretty good about myself because the person who suggested Ray Romano play me in a movie probably thinks I'm funny as well.....Wait a sec, maybe she just thinks I'm ugly as shit like him. I mean, both Ray and I do have pretty big noses....God dammit, Christa Damminger, you bitch!!! (kidding).

So while that's a good example of how the game can be uplifting, the conclusions you draw from it aren't always happy ones. For example, I've also heard the name Colin Farrell thrown around for me. Colin Farrell is an arrogant prick. This made me think a bit about how I come to off people....Ok, maybe this is a bad example because I enjoy being an arrogant prick, but surely you can understand how an inferrence such as this could deflate a normal person's mood.

Either way, I suggest you play this game sooner than later. It could serve as inspiration/motivation as well. For example, if you think you're a heterosexual guy, but everyone thinks that Andy Dick should play you in a movie, maybe you should rethink your sexual preference for a while. If you're a girl and the name you consistently hear is Lindsay Lohan, maybe you should stop snorting coke off your car keys all the time before you go out. If you're a white guy and your friends think Lil Wayne should play you, maybe you should think about buying jeans that fit and speaking in complete, intelligible sentences. If you're a girl and everyone thinks Paris Hilton would be perfect for you, maybe you should take that dick out of your mouth for once....(Thinking about doing one more pair of funny examples....Yep, I am. One more...) If you're a young guy but people think of you when they think of Chevy Chase, maybe you should ponder whether or not your personality is similar to that of an crotchety, miserable old man people really haven't enjoyed being around since 1984. If you think you're a typical girl but your friends think you should be immortalized on screen by Kelly Clarkson, maybe everyone thinks that if you have that much talent, you should try a salad.

You can even take this game a step further and try to determine what the title of your movie would be. I personally haven't taken it to this level yet, but I imagine the lessons learned from it could be just as bountiful and poignant. Whatever title you and your friends come up with for your movie, whether it be as promising as something like "Ultra Sex Glory Paladin" or as unpleasant as something like "Shit-Covered Pancakes", as long as its not "Movie About (your name)," you're okay I think, because that would mean that you're the most boring person of all time. And personally, I'd rather eat shit covered pancakes than be boring.

Oh, in case you're curious, I think we finally eventually settled on Adrian Grenier to play me. He's Vinny Chase from "Entourage." Don't know what he looks like? Click here. Lastly, you should leave comments on this blog with ideas about who would play you, and I'll respond to them either confirming or negating those suggestions, complete with reasons why.... (The more discerning readers I'm guessing will see that this idea is really just a thinly veiled scam designed to grant me permission to tear you apart on my blog site. Oh well....).

VI. ANIMAL FACT OF THE DAY

If you eat the liver of a polar bear, you will die of vitamin A poisoning. Polar bears eat so many fish-eating carnivores that they get a whole shit load of vitamin A, which they store in said liver, so much so that if we eat one, we can't take it, and we'll die. This is also just another way a polar bear can kill you I suppose.

I feel the need to add a corrollary to this before I move on... So, animal fact of the day 1.a) polar bears are fucking awesome.

VII. VIDEO GAMES - SUPER MARIO BROS. 3 IS IMPOSSIBLE

I just downloaded this game on my Wii, and I dont give a shit if theres a youtube video of some kid beating the game in 10 minutes, it's fake. This game's impossible. World 8 is insane. There's ships and cannons fuckin' everywhere, and little mole people throwing fuckin' wrenches at me, and the screen never stops moving so I never have time to gather myself and breathe for a second, and the music is all scary, and I hate everybody. Fuck.

VIII. UMAI UMAI SUSHI IS DERRRRRRICIOUS!

Get it?....Im serious though. I just recently discovered this fantastic sushi restaurant on 22nd and Brandywine in Philadelphia. You should check out their website. And may I suggest either the King Kong rolls or Spartan rolls. You'll thank me later. Also, while they do take-out, which is convenient, it's also a BYO place, so, ya know, there's that.

Alright, I think that's all for now. Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think! Just know that if you tell me it sucks, I'll elbow drop you in your sleep.

DJ