For just one day…
…wouldn’t it be nice?
Survived the rapture, did you?
Don’t think of it as ‘being passed over.’ You’re an American – make money from your rejection!
There’s even a common sense guide to help you get started.
Written before the last regularly scheduled rapture, “How to Profit from the Coming Rapture” offers sound — if tongue-in-cheek — financial guidance for those of us left on Earth to fend for ourselves. (If you’re reading this, that means you.)
The writers, while having a bit of fun with the whole notion, apparently quote actual Bible verses and legends to support their economic theories. It all sounds a bit Book of Mormon to me. And since I love that Broadway show, I’m guessing this book will be fun, too!
What, you say? I haven’t read the book yet? Of course not! I had to wait and see if I got called aboard the mothership!
Now…let’s all get RICH!!!
You know how some days seem to have a recurring theme? Yesterday was like that for me. And the theme was…
It began when I was shopping for a good friend who had a baby. Everything that I looked at — receiving blankets, rattles, you name it — had owls on it.
I got t-shirts with devils on them instead. Much less demanding.
Next, I went to the theatre to see Source Code. One of the trailers was for a horror movie called Priest. Wouldn’t you know it — owls were circling overhead during one of the satanic fights!
Thank goodness Paul Bettany is cute, even with a big ol’ cross tattooed on his nose.
I still made it home in time for the season finale of “Mr. Sunshine.” Matthew Perry continued his series-long slam of his own looks…and what animal did he compare himself to in last night’s episode??
Well, who’d have thunk it? He really does.
I saw a movie yesterday in the theater and didn’t have snacks.
Blasphemy, I know.
But 127 Hours didn’t seem like a nachos kinda film. So much has been written about the gross-out factor of Danny Boyle’s latest effort. It may have been nominated for six Academy Awards including Best Picture, but much of the media attention has focused on the audience reaction.
People passing out in their seats. Vomiting in the aisles. Staggering out of the cineplex, mentally scarred for life.
Popcorn didn’t seem prudent.
Nevertheless, I bravely walked into the theater, a super-sized Diet Coke my only comfort, and watched the film. When it was over, I wished I could take off a few arms myself — of the folks who wrote those misleading, alarmist statements!
The bloodshed in 127 Hours is no worse than what you’ve seen in any number of Hollywood action films, and it lasts about 90 seconds. Tarentino fans no doubt will find it lame. It was harder for me to watch James Franco’s face as he made the agonizing decision to cut off his own arm as his only means of survival.
Sure, it’s a bit gutty, but you can always turn away if need be. But that one scene does not set the tone for the entire film.
127 Hours is spiritual and inspiring — the soul searching exploration of a man wrestling between the acceptance of a certain death and his will to survive.
I almost didn’t see 127 Hours because I thought it would make me sick. If someone else misses it for the same reason, I would feel even worse.
Can I be serious for a moment?
Well, I’m gonna try.
A different celebrity death seems to make the headlines every day — TV and movie stars, sports icons, politicians, you name it. I realize this isn’t a new phenomenon, but the coverage today is so much more saturated. Reports of their demise are on TV and Facebook and Twitter and every single web browser that you open.
You can’t escape death…and now online, people are trying to earn points for it.
Even before the celebrity’s body has grown cold, folks on Facebook are celebrating… ’cause the newly deceased notable is in their Dead Pool! Sometimes their expression of rejoicing is in the same sentence as their expression of sympathy. That’s…efficient.
Now, I usually like sick humor, but I just can’t find the funny in this game. The majority of the celebs listed in these pools are old or seriously ill or both, with a few random youngsters thrown in to wreck the curve.
And folks are betting on when they will die.
Call me old-fashioned, but this reeks of bad karma. I wouldn’t wanna tempt the fates — they might decide to take a swing in my direction.
Sure, these people were famous, but can you imagine the faces of their family when they see their newly departed mom or dad or husband or wife or sibling or child listed on one of these Dead Pools…with a points ranking assigned?
I know it seems like some celebrities ‘sell out’ for fame and fortune. But that doesn’t mean we have to sink even lower when they’re not around to fight back.