Supergeek Returns: The Blog

Not going in the water, not going in the pool, probably not taking a shower unless I have a shotgun nearby

2009-07-07T06:08:00Z

Meg: Hell's Aquarium is the fourth release in the killer megalodon series by Steve Alten (Meg, The Trench, Primal Waters). Hell's Aquarium finds the Taylor family selling a couple of the Megs to an resort in Dubai. Unfortunately, the water park wants even more dangerous giant sharks, and they enlist the youngest Taylor son to help locate them in the depths. Horrifying, spellbinding,gut wrenching,...none of these do justice to what awaits you in Meg: Hell's Aquarium.

It's Only Forever, Not Long At All

2008-02-25T06:03:00Z

I watched Labyrinth the other night. I bought it from Amazon because I'm a compulsive shopper and I was bored. I found and purchased David Bowie's "Magic Dance" and "Underground," two songs from the soundtrack. Naturally, that got me anxious to see the movie again. It's been awhile. I first saw it in 1986. After that, I probably watched it once a week for about a year. We only got about three channels with an antenna, so my viewing options were limited. I took what I could get, which amounted to about ten bootlegged VHS movies. Anyway, I probably had the movie memorized at one point.

By the time I graduated high school, we had moved to town and had gotten cable. Labyrinth somehow was forgotten, so it's been at least fifteen years since I've seen it. I guess it's kind of like riding a bike. You never really forget, and I found myself remembering most of the scenes as soon as I saw them. There was a nice touch this time around, though. I'm no longer the stupid sixteen year old nerd I was back then.

Now I'm a thirty-five year old nerd. The film is layered with many nuances that escaped me back in the day. Seeing it as a kid, I totally missed the metaphor that permeates the film. That's sad considering that the symbolism is about as subtle as a sledgehammer to the skull.

Sarah, the protagonist, has to save her little brother from the Goblin King, played to perfection by David Bowie in one of his few acting roles. Sarah, being the typical teen, is hung up on herself and actually wishes her little brother away. In her defense, he was a whiny little snot. But still, that doesn't make it right. Sarah embarks on a journey through the goblin world in search of the little rugrat. To find him, she has to traverse the Labyrinth. She encounters many enemies and finds new friends in her journey. She finally confronts Jareth, the Goblin King. The climax is pretty satisfying.

When I was living in Pubertyville, I took the story literally. Now, though, it's obvious that the Labyrinth is a metaphor for life and its many obstacles in general, and the transcendence from childhood to adulthood specifically. Sarah has to make decisions, deal with setbacks, and face the consequences of her actions just as we all do.

Throughout the film, Jareth tempts Sarah with promises of happiness and riches if she will only turn back and forget the child. He promises her his undying devotion if she will only serve him. It doesn't take a genius to realize the blatant allusions to the Bible. Again, though, I seemed to have missed all that when I was a kid. This ties in well with another intended message of the film. Sarah never had any trouble believing the world of the Goblin King existed. And believing in something despite what others may think is the most important act of free will a person can demonstrate.

Finally, I noticed a definite sexual undercurrent between Sarah and Jareth, which is sort of creepy considering that Sarah is a fourteen year old girl and Jareth is played by Bowie, who was pushing forty at the time. I actually noticed this in passing when watching it as a teen, but it's very apparent to me now. The DVD commentary confirmed this, explaining that Jim Henson wanted to convey the dangerous allure of adult relationships that teenage girls face and also to show how Sarah responds to this. This film was much deeper than I could have ever imagined.

Looking back, I realize one of the reasons I loved this film was because of Jennifer Connelly, the actress who played Sarah. She's well known now, but she was just starting out back then. She was only fourteen when she made the film, but her natural acting ability made her seem much older. To be honest, I had a huge crush on Jennifer. I still do. She was absolutely stunning in the film and only got more beautiful and talented as she grew older.

I enjoyed watching Labyrinth again, this time with the eyes of an adult. It just enhanced what was already a very enjoyable movie. It brought back a lot of memories of what I was like and the things I did back then. And I admit that the nostalgia, while cathartic, also made me a bit sad. So much time has gone by, and part of me feels like I've wasted it. I guess I'm stuck in my own Labyrinth. It's time I got back up and started finding my own way. We all have to do it. If I run into David Bowie, I'll give him a toothbrush. Darn Brits, they need more fluoride.

It's Only Forever T-shirts and Gifts

Cutting the Mustard: because stabbing the ketchup sounds stupid

2008-02-03T02:22:00Z

Cutting the mustard. Like many common clichés, it doesn’t seem to make much sense. Traditionally, it’s used to describe something or something being successful or rising to the challenge. What that has to do with mustard is anyone’s guess…until now. You see, I’m not satisfied with following the uniformed status quo. I don’t play that. So I did what any self-respecting geek would do. I went and played video games for hours. After that, however, I did some due diligence. My research proved fruitful, so I bring to you now the origins of the phrase, “cutting the mustard.”

In the late 1700’s, in the Eastern European village of Hellman, life was good. The villagers farmed and milked cows and other old-time villager type stuff. One particularly frigid winter night, a stranger walked into town. This stranger was stranger than most. The villagers who passed him in town were afraid of him because he was dressed in all black, had black mascara, black fingernails, and an emo haircut. This guy was seriously bad and tough. He went to the local inn and tried to rent a room, but he started crying over the puppy he lost twenty years ago as a child. He then wrote a boring song about it. The innkeeper, either in fear for his life or depressed because of the crappy song, threw the stranger out. The stranger cried for a little while and posted a unintentionally funny video blog complaining about it—the village had dialup Internet powered by a mule-powered generator. After that, he placed a curse on the town.

The next night, the mustard fields, long a source of pride for the village, caught fire. Out of the flames crawled giant wooded casks filled with mustard. The oozed across the earth, leaving yellow, slimy trails of mustard in their wake. The townsfolk of Hellman weren’t so easily bested, however. They wore mullets and sleeveless t-shirts and didn’t take crap from anyone, especially demon possessed barrels of mustard. They took out their swords, which were always on hand during olden times, and waged a fierce battle against the mustard. Many men were lost, but the first rays of the morning sun revealed the mustard smeared streets of Hellman, the villagers standing victorious in the morning fog. The people of Hellman cut the mustard down in its evil but quite tasty tracks, leaving a legacy and a really popular condiment for the world to enjoy.

The preceding story is 100% factual. I’d stake my impressive social life on it. So now you know. You’re welcome.

Cutting the Mustard T-shirts and Gifts

I Love My Boss. Sorry About Yours.

2008-01-11T00:19:00Z

I’ve got this friend. This friend has a problem. My friend has a really crappy boss. Now, I’m not going to reveal whether my friend’s boss is a man or woman; that’s just not important. Let’s just say—just for general cocktail conversation info, mind you—that my friend’s boss has ovaries. Big, gigantic ovaries that pump out enough estrogen to make an entire retirement home’s worth of grandmothers fertile again. She must have a menstrual cycle every three days from the way that she acts, but, again, not that it matters.

My friend’s supervisor is constantly changing her mind about what she wants done and expects my friend to be able to read her thoughts through some undiagnosed form of ESP. Working for her is like reading through one of those “Choose Your Own Adventure” books, only this book is written by a sadistic A-hole where every choice you make leads to misery and death.

She will randomly choose an employee to pick on, accusing them of everything from sexual harassment to theft to sexual theft. I don’t even know what that last one means, but I’m sure she could find some way to pin it on somebody. She’ll ride that particular employee from days to weeks, depending on her mood and the state of her uterus. If they’re lucky, she’ll eventually either move on to another employee or the victim of the week will get hit by a train. Either would be preferable to being in her crosshairs for even one more day.

I told my friend, “Hey, friend, I’m sorry. I wish your boss could be like my boss. Because my boss is super awesome, the best boss ever! I get giddy and dizzy when I think about my boss’s level of absolute coolness. Sometimes I weep because I know that one day I’ll have to retire and I won’t see my boss anymore. That sucks! I hope I die on the way home after my last day so I won’t have to exist with the void of my boss’s absence devouring me from within. Curse my rotten luck to get such an angelic boss sent straight from heaven to her office right beside mine where she can monitor every move I make, which makes me truly ecstatic and joyful, by the way.”

I really can’t solve my friend’s problem with his boss. I can wear one of his shirts, however. In some small way, I can get the message out. No, no need to thank me, friend. I’m just swell like that.

Now you can do the same with this funny, sarcastic, and (slightly) passive-aggressive design.

Text design: My Boss Is A Real Jerk (This is someone else's shirt)

Someone Else's Boss T-shirts and Gifts

Hey baby, wanna see my Insecticons?? Yeah, that's what I thought!

2008-01-02T05:05:00Z

I was pretty isolated as a kid growing up in the 80’s. We lived out in the sticks, and I had to spend most of my time entertaining myself. I could’ve learned martial arts, taken up fishing, or played sports, but let’s face it. Geeks don’t do that. No, geeks and dorks squander their money and time amassing huge action figure collections. I had action figures lining every inch of available space in my bedroom. Screw tee ball trophies and signed footballs and junk like that. Meaningless sports memorabilia attesting to a somewhat normal enjoyment and appreciation of the great American pastime would’ve left me zero room to display my mint collection of Constructicons or my new-in-box He-Man/Battle Cat gift set. And that would’ve just been silly.

After reaching high school, though, I realized that hoarding action figures didn’t really prepare me for real life—dating life in particular. For some reason, girls weren’t really impressed that I had a complete collection of Gobots. They gravitated toward the football jocks instead. It’s funny, but at the time I didn’t understand. Now that I’m older, however, it’s all become painfully obvious—I should have never bragged about the Gobots. It just made the girls feel inferior. Yeah, that’s it. Silly me! Still, I can’t help but namedrop about my collections. They may deny it, but that kind of information really does impress the ladies. And that’s what I’m all about. I HAVE THE POWER!!!

Design: My Action Figure Collection Is HUGE

Action Figure Stud T-shirts and Gifts

Shay with a gauge and Vanilla with a nine? He didn't even know what a "nine" was.

2007-12-31T06:51:00Z

Hip-hop music today is much different than the rap music of the 80s and early 90s. While a good portion of the current hip-hop music tends to focus on the negative, the rap music of yesteryear focused more on the fun. The pioneers of rap music took their grievances and rivalries to the mic with words and lyrics as opposed to shooting at other while driving down the highway.

Hip-hop today is derivative, with stale beats and unintelligible lyrics void of creativity and flair. “Bling-bling” has been run into the ground so hard it’s got gravel stuck in up its jewel-encrusted butt. In contrast, old school rap had fresh beats, using samples from more varied types of music and, and some of the founding fathers of the genre even employed the use of real bands.

And the lyrics ran the gamut from the poignant to the hilarious. Gone are the days of songs chronicling the funny exploits of a posse on Broadway and the eloquent ramblings relating the joys of a big booty.

Most awesome of all, however, were the posers from the early days of rap. Even when they were lieing through their teeth about where and how they grew up to give themselves more credibility, they were still entertaining and creative. Most enjoyable of the posers were the white rappers. Before Eminem came along, “Caucasian” and “hip-hop” were two words that weren’t seen as belonging together. Eminem didn’t pave the way, however; he just drove down that road. No, the path of white rappers was blazed by a select few.

A certain hip-hop artist in the early 90’s stormed up the charts with a bona fide smash hit. Against all odds, Vanilla Ice—yes, Vanilla Ice—became a household name with "Ice Ice Baby." He had a questionable (and eventually revealed to be false) back story, and his ridiculous hairstyle and clothing choices would probably get him beaten up and ridiculed senselessly anywhere other than at a costume party full of blind people. Still, he had a song that was pleasantly addictive. Unfortunately, he also crashed and burned pretty quickly, forever being included among the esteemed ranks of one-hit wonders. He was ridiculed for a long time afterward, but in recent years the wave of nostalgia has buffeted him once again into the collective eye of the public. Many are realizing that his one hit song was actually pretty sweet, and a whole new generation is finding themselves humming along to its infectious beat. I don’t know of many song lyrics that so many people can quote verbatim so many years after it was released. That alone attests to the staying power of the song.

This design is dedicated to that song and so many other hip-hop tunes that ruled the airwaves back in the 80’s and early 90’s. Here’s hoping rap music can one day return to its more lighthearted and creative roots.

I COOK MC'S LIKE A POUND OF BACON

Cooked Like Bacon T-shirts and Gifts

Death By Stereo!

2007-12-28T06:43:00Z

I think everyone has a certain few movies that they watch over and over again. For comedy, I think Anchorman holds the crown. I’ve seen it so many times that I can lip-sync the lines. I’ve even been tempted to grow a moustache and buy a cheap suit. As for action, I’ve run around in the office building shooting bad guys with Bruce Willis in Die Hard more times than I can count. And I keep thinking that he’s going to fall down that elevator shaft every time.

One favorite genre, however, has to be horror. I love scary movies. I’ve seen every Halloween and Friday the 13th film multiple times, probably all in the wrong order—does it really matter? Probably not. I especially love a little bit of dark humor mixed in with my horror. Tremors is a long time favorite. Possibly the most watched movie in my collection, though, is The Lost Boys.

The Lost Boys not only defined the 80’s as far as pop culture goes; it also is a really well done movie, and it sported one of the most awesome soundtracks ever. Back in the day, the two Corey’s were the coolest thing going. As a movie duo, they were box office gold in their youth. Sadly, they would go on to become icons of douchebagery, but everybody makes mistakes. For a few short years in the mid to late 80’s, however, they were unstoppable. But the Corey’s are just a facet of the jewel that is The Lost Boys. It was one of Kiefer Sutherland’s early roles, and his performance as David is memorable to say the least. It is also the one movie that I always think of when someone mentions Jason Patric. Sure, he’s been in a lot of movies since, but his portrayal of Michael Emerson was sincere and utterly believable. It’s strange that it’s been reported that he’s stated in many interviews that he hates The Lost Boys.

The fictional city of Santa Carla was the perfect location for the events in the film. The boardwalk and many of the city scenes were filmed in Santa Cruz, CA. Known as the Murder Capital of the World, Santa Carla provided an appropriately creepy setting.

I wore out my VHS copy of The Lost Boys years ago. Last year, I bought the DVD and fell in love with movie all over again. The movie is in widescreen anamorphic, but the film could use a bit of a touchup. I would love to see a deluxe restored version offered on HD-DVD or Blu-ray. Hopefully, that will become a reality to coincide with the release of the sequel in 2008. The Lost Boys 2: The Tribe appears to heading straight to DVD, unfortunately. I’m still looking forward to it and hoping for the best, but I would’ve really loved to see a big budget theatrical release. After almost twenty years, I would think all the thirtysomethings would be jonesing for another fun and frightful trip to Santa Carla. According to IMDB, the new film will focus heavily on the Frog brothers, played by Corey Feldman and Jamison Newlander. That’s good news for Newlander since he’s only appeared in a handful of roles since The Lost Boys. The Frog Brothers made a great team, and hopefully the new film will provide the scares and the laughs that made the original such a classic.

Frog's Comics T-shirts and Gifts

Livin' on a Prayer...and Unemployment

2007-12-20T04:31:00Z

The 80’s were a significantly historical period for a variety of reasons. The decade saw both the escalation of the Cold War and its peaceful resolution, both of which have been largely attributed to the now almost legendary exploits of the U.S. President of the decade, Ronald Reagan.

The 80s also were a time of economic upheaval, with Reaganomics being a subject of great debate. The Eighties saw financial prosperity and depression, the latter best illustrated by the stock market crash of 1987.

On the consumer electronics front, the 80’s witnessed the dawning of the modern computer age with the mainstream introduction of the personal computer in 1981. Computer geeks everywhere rejoiced and could no longer think of any reason why they should talk to the opposite sex or even leave the house, for that matter.

But hardly any of the teens, youth, and young at heart of the 80’s were concerned about any of that. No, we had far more pressing worries, namely the welfare of Tommy and Gina, two working class heroes from New Jersey. You see, Tommy worked on the docks, but then the union went on strike. Gina worked at the diner, pulling twelve hour shifts. It was tough for both them. But they held on to what they valued most: each other. Yeah, Tommy and Gina made it, and all of us succeeded vicariously through them. We felt their pain. We felt their joy. We felt like parachute pants were cool. You can't win 'em all.

The Berlin Wall? Gorbachev? Bruno?? We could tackle any of those problems as long as Tommy and Gina didn’t give up and gave it a shot.

The travails of Tommy and Gina became well known and inundated the pop culture and entertainment of the era. Now that I think about it, I vaguely remember a heavy metal hair band that had a hit song that mentioned Tommy and Gina. That’s weird. I wonder whatever happened to those guys. They were called Bon Jovi or Air Supply or something like that. Are they still making music? Probably not.

On the Docks T-shirts and Gifts

The power ballad: a lethal weapon...in the right hands

2007-12-12T05:02:00Z

I remember my first date back in high school. As first dates go, it wasn’t so bad. OK, it was pretty bad. What was supposed to be a solo date turned into a group thing with the other two guys in the Geek Squad tagging along. One minute I was spraying Obsession on my awesome Kirk Cameron button down shirt-skinny tie combination wardrobe thinking about how I’m going to be French kissing my date and other stuff like that, and the next minute my two dorky buddies were in the backseat of the car singing Milli Vanilli a cappella. That’s what I get for bragging to them about having a date with a girl who wasn’t inflatable. She didn’t seem to mind, though. Plus, these two guys were such dweebs that they made me look cool in comparison. And that wasn’t an easy feat back then considering I had a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle action figure hanging on my rearview mirror.

We got to the restaurant before I choked the poor man’s Air Supply in the backseat. I was in suave mode by this time, and I even pulled the seat out for my date to sit down. I then proceeded to order something on the menu that immediately didn’t agree with me. I spent the remainder of the dinner in the bathroom. That was awesome. Still, it got me some pity points with the girl. That washed out pasty white complexion that accompanies salmonella tends to provoke that kind of response in chicks.

After I halfway recuperated from the botulism soufflé, we made the drive to the movie theater. I had chosen an Oscar caliber film in advance of the date, A Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child. With this cinematic gem in play, I knew that I would be getting some action. One of my friends tried to bogart the seat next to my date. I told him that I was going to sit by a girl no matter what. If he wanted me to surgically transform him into one with my car keys, I could oblige. He took the next seat over. The movie was all right, nothing special. My date did get freaked out a couple of times, prompting her to grab my arm and hold on to it. I still remember how that felt even after almost twenty years. Sadly, the movie had to eventually end.

On the way home, Dumb and Dumber went into a diabetic coma in the backseat from ingesting too many Sweet Tarts during the movie. I figured it was time to take it to the next level, so I brought out the big guns. I pulled out the Paula Abdul cassette that I kept hidden in the center console. Paula had a hit song at the time, so I figured that having playing the tape would tally up some cool points in my favor. We both hummed along to “Straight Up” and “Cold Hearted.” We shared a moment there on that drive home. It was sweet.

I dumped my pals off at the Hardee’s where they had parked when we got back to my home town. I tried to run them over, but the nap they’d gotten had refreshed them enough to jump out of the way. I took my date home, which unfortunately was only about a three minute drive away. You might be wondering why I didn’t drive around a bit before taking her home, taking advantage of our precious alone time to get to know her better. That’s simple: I’m an idiot. Anyway, I walked her to her door. After a few pleasant words, she hugged my goodbye. I went home. A week later she got back together with her boyfriend. I never went out with her again.

There are many possible reasons for me not getting some love that night. It could be that my two nerdy friends killed the mood. It might be that my pseudo food poisoning was a turn off. Either one of those reasons are valid. But I know that truth. It was the Paula Abdul tape. I pulled out the “big guns” when I should have employed the use of a nuclear missile. Because right next to Paula in the console were the latest releases by Bon Jovi, Poison, and Warrant, not to mention the REO Speedwagon greatest hits cassette. Any one of those tapes contained the greatest make out weapon ever devised: the power ballad. And I knew this! I can only surmise that my blood sugar was low as a result E. coli special that I got at the restaurant.

The power ballad, with its sappy romantic lyrics and chick-friendly keyboards, is an instant checkmate in the chess game of love. No woman alive can withstand the likes of “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” or “Livin’ on A Prayer.” The opening chords of “Love of A Lifetime” actually make women ovulate. It’s been proven in double blind clinical trials. Look it up.

Paula Abdul indeed! I deserve to never kiss a girl again for making such an obvious mistake. Now that I think about it, I don’t think I have kissed a girl since that night. Wow.

Anyway, the point I’m trying to make here is, when used correctly, the power ballad will get you some lip action. It’s a certainty. Now I listen to power ballads alone. I actually listen to two of them at once using a vintage Emerson dual cassette deck. I guess I’m subconsciously trying to OD on power ballads. Is that even possible? I am starting to walk around pouting and posing while wearing colorful doo-rags to conceal my thinning hair like some of the 80’s hair band singers. Can you die from that? It’s more likely somebody will just beat me to death for looking so lame. Whatever, buy a shirt and make me feel better. Thanks.

Power Ballad Power T-shirts and Gifts

Whatever you do, don't mess with the people who handle your food.

2007-12-08T04:32:00Z

About a year ago I found myself in a predicament. My Netflix queue was getting a bit anemic. Since signing up for Netflix about three years ago, I've probably watched about five hundred movies. Yes, I have no life. Rather than punishing myself by renting C-grade horror movies with budgets lower than my last tax refund, I decided to look for something new. In my exhaustive search (i.e. about five minutes), I came across a film called Waiting.... I had never heard of it, but it starred Ryan Reynolds, Dane Cook, and that Mac commercial guy, so I took a chance and rented it. To my pleasant surprise, the movie was awesome, seriously one of the funniest movies I've seen in years. It was also one of the raunchiest, which is unexpected seeing as how almost the entire movie takes place inside of an Applebee's type restaurant.

Waiting... follows a day in the life of a hilarious cast of characters employed at the restaurant as they trudge through their shifts. On the surface, it sounds boring, which is why I almost didn't rent it. Trust me, though. If you're a fan of movies like The 40 Year Old Virgin and Wedding Crashers, you'll love this movie. It's full of one-liners and quips, most of which are uttered by Ryan Reynolds, who carries this movie. Why this guy isn't a bigger star is beyond me. Like I said, though, it's pretty raunchy and is definitely not one for the kids.

The manager, who is played by the bald headed dude from Anchorman, is constantly riding the staff as he power trips all through the movie. One of his little pep talks contains a brilliantly corny saying: The difference between ordinary and extraordinary is that little bit extra! The phrase was coined by Jimmie Johnson, a famous football coach. I'm sure it wasn't nearly as corny when he said it.

The movie also has a big heart, and the coming of age tale it contains, while well tread territory, will still leave feeling good after it's all said and done.

Here's a t-shirt and gift design inspired by the movie.

That Little Bit Extra T-shirts and Gifts