Friday, November 28, 2008

Why I Like Depressing Movies


Everyone saw Dark Knight this summer. I saw it twice. It was pretty cool. I do enjoy these feel good movies with car chases and love triangles and the good guy gets the girl in the end... Ok, so Batman wasn’t exactly like that. Still it’s become a cliché to say that people like these movies b/c they provide an escape. This begs the question, an escape from what?

I’ll tell you, but please don’t take it personally. These “happy people” movies help you forget about your own miserable life and assuage the challenges of further contemplating the brutal realities of what it means to live in our society and time. It’s been pointed out, most notoriously by Kevin Smith, that The Empire Strikes Back is the best Star Wars film for the very fact that it’s a series of down notes and that this sequence of events is so real and powerful that it captures life much better than the other movies.

It’s not popular to make such a statement but I’m not here to make friends or get your vote for the PTA. For a lot of people life is a never ending downer in the pursuit of happiness. One continuous losing streak, day after day after day. Working unsociable hours in a job you hate, getting so depressed even your friends hate you, having no love life, no one to comfort you or turn to, and waking up wishing that you hadn't. This is why Dark Knight will always be loved by more people than a biting discussion of nihilism set in a period piece (No Country For Old Men, my favorite movie last yr).

The other huge reason I have an affinity for this brand of cinema is that even if the movie makes you feel a little blue, at least it made you feel something. I watched Dark Knight, Iron Man and The Incredible Hulk this summer. Other than a temporary rise in testosterone, I felt nothing from all 3 of them. And those were actually decent movies. But if they don’t touch you, what’s the point? It’s kind of like having sex with someone who you don’t really like. It feels kind of good right when it happens, but it really doesn’t do anything meaningful for you. And in the long run, you’ll probably regret the experience (unless you sleep with me, of course).

And here is a short clip from the 1998 film Happiness, written and directed by Todd Solondz. They go a little overboard in the movie but it’s still really well done and the acting is remarkable at times.


Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Embarrassing Alcohol Story #19.5b

Note:This is a true and tragically graphic story, proceed at your own risk.

My roommate through most of med school was an interesting guy. Let’s call him Brad. One of the areas Brad excelled in was women, and he earned the nickname “The Jewish Wilt Chamberlain” for his efforts. He took on the Herculean task of providing new college girls w/ sexual orientation (introducing them to toys, pubic landscaping and how to get off in general).

One random Saturday morning I was checking cnn.com when he came stumbling in at 9am, reeking of cheap alcohol and a Port-O-Potty. He made his way into the bathroom, where more stumbling was audible: “You ok, man?” I asked.

“Dude, you won’t believe the night I just had….”

Brad had met up w/ 2 undergrad girls from the local college the previous night. Being the mench that he was, he planned on expanding their curriculum. Note that he was 30y/o and I was 24. Best guess is that these girls were 19. As the smooth talking Hebrew, he convinced these coeds to invite him and a giant bottle of Tequila over to their apt for a night of debauchery.

The evening started out with a few drinks and an occasional bong hit, pretty standard... actually. Brad possessed a ginormous alcohol tolerance and suggested that they play card games w/ the loser having to pound shots of Patron in hopes of quickly intoxicating his female hosts. But the poker Gods did not favor this plan and Brad lost nearly all the games that were played.

The end result of this strategy was a ½ empty carafe of tequila, 2 horny college chicks and my roommate too drunk to do anything about it. Aside from finishing the other half of the tequila bottle, the remaining details of the night were not very clear. Apparently an anonymous, foul-smelling college frat boy showed up to drink and smoke up w/ them as the evening progressed. At some premature time, Brad passed out with his face to the floor. Frank the tank, indeed.

He awoke around 5am, still drunk and disoriented. The smell of a diaper changing station filled the apartment. Brad lifted his head to see the frat boy passed out on the couch. That frat boy was farting up a fucking shit storm! Deciding against spooning with the malodorous college kid, Brad turned on his side to resume his slumber.

A 2nd time he awoke to whispers of the girls and a still lingering, but diminished scent of the college boy’s stale farts as the morning sun heated the room. The whispers quieted and Brad heard the voices leave the apt. College boy had vacated the couch so Brad quickly stole his spot. He slept there for another 2hrs. When he woke up this last time he felt something cold and itchy in his pants. Reaching down to scratch his ass my roomma-
“No way!” He said out loud. “No… Fucking…. Way!”

Then it hit Brad like that moment in The Sixth Sense when Bruce Willis realizes he’s actually dead: The whispers from the girls, the overpowering stench of a baby’s fresh diaper. And just like when Willis notices the bullet wound in his abdomen w/ blood spilling out of his back, Brad looked down in absolute horror to see a giant brown skid mark on the seat of his pants extending south toward his ankle and continuously leaking onto the floor and couch.

My roommate sprinted to the bathroom and took off his boxers, which apparently did resemble a dirty, cloth diaper only much colder. He wiped his filthy ass the best he could and then put his shit-stained jeans back on commando style.

“I just wanted to have a threesome w/ those college girls!” Brad shouted to me from the shower. No good deed, right?

Monday, November 24, 2008

Conversation with a 12y/o Me Plus Some Hot Chicks

The following is a conversation w/ my 12 year-old self from the year 1990. In the end our talks centered mostly on my TV-addicted salad days (more like Chips A’Hoy, Fruit Funs and Dr. Pepper days) and how they made me the man that I am today.


Me:Here I am w/ my 12 year-old counterpart, also Rupert Roo, straight from 1990.

12y/o Roo:Holy crap! You’re me from the future?

Me:Yup.

12y/o Roo:How come my voice is still so high?

Me:It is not!

12y/o Roo:See, it just got high again, right there!

Me:Moving on… I wanted to give you, the 12 year-old version of me, the chance to ask anything about the future. We can talk about business, politics, the global sta-

12y/o Roo:What year do the Cubs start their dynasty of winning 5 World Series in a row?

Me:Actually that doesn’t happen. It’s been over 100 yrs now and they still haven’t won a single championship. They almost made it in 2003 but Florida beat them.

12y/o Roo:Weak, man.. Bogus… Florida…Florida???

Me:Anything else you want to know about the future?

12y/o Roo:What kind of flying car do I drive?

Me:Uhh none. You take the subway, and no, the subway doesn’t have flying cars, either.

12y/o Roo:This sucks! Is there anything cool about the future at all?

Me:Well this might cheer you up. A lot of the cute child stars that you watch on TV now grow up to be super hot.

12y/o Roo:Really, like who?

Me:Let’s take a look, 12 year-old Rupert! And keep your hands where I can see them. Remember, I know what you do w/ those Sunday JC Penney ads when no one else is around.

1.Ashley Banks
Me:Pass the malaria meds, cuz I gots me some Jungle Fever!

12y/o Roo:What does that mean?

Me:Spike Lee will explain it in a yr or two.

2.Lacey Chabret from Party of Five
12 y/o Roo
:I always thought that Jennifer Love Hewitt would grow up to be the hot one.

Me:No, she makes two Garfield movies and a TV show about whispering shit to ghosts.

12 y/o Roo:Why are ghosts whispering shit to the chick from Party of Five?

Me:I don’t know. In the future whispering is also the preferred mode of communication b/w most dogs and Mexicans.
12 y/o Roo:Weird.

3.Punky Brewster
12y/o Roo:Why does her face look all funny?

Me:She’s had a lot of work done.

12y/o Roo:That’s why I don’t want to work hard when I grow up.

4.Nicole Eggert from Charles in Charge
12y/o Roo:
I figured she would grow up to be hot. I'm 12 and as I look at her I think, “Boy, she’s gonna be hot some day”.

Me:I feel the same way about Hermione Granger right now.

12 y/o Roo:You are a sick, sick man.

Me:I know.

5.Topanga
12y/o Roo:Why are her lips all puffy?

Me:It’s an allergic reaction.

12 y/o Roo:To what, seafood?

Me:No, to type A Botulinum toxin.

6.Stephanie Tanner
Me:How do you like those Olsen twins?


12 y/o Roo:How rude!




7.Fergie from Kids Incorporated
12 y/o Roo:I thought she would end up in movies.


Me:No. No drama. No, no, no, no drama, drama.


8.Alyssa Milano
12 y/o Roo:I would murder my own mother for one night with her.

Me:And you do in an odd deal w/ a Paraguayan pimp in the August of ‘99.

12 y/o Roo:What?!?

Me:Nothing...

9.Anyone on the “New Mickey Mouse Club”
Me:Britney, Christina and the chick from Felicity all started out there.

12 y/o me:Yeah, too bad they had to work with fags like Justin Timberlake and Ryan Gosling. Who’d ever want to be with those queermos?

Me:Yeah.. uhm.. your homophobic slurs aren’t nearly as appreciated in 2008 as in 1990.

12 y/o Roo:Ok, gayrod.

10.Winnie Cooper
12y/o Roo:I always wanted a girl like Winnie Cooper in my life as I grew up.

Me:Yeah, but you looked a lot more like Paul Pfeiffer than Kevin Arnold, so you didn’t.

12y/o Roo:Fuck off!

Me:You just told yourself to fuck off, retard.

12 y/o Roo:Whatever happened to Kimberly Drummond? She was pretty hot.

Me:She uhh… she has her own variety shown on cable.

12 y/o Roo:And I can’t wait to hear the new music that Michael Jackson makes! I even have a poster of Michael on my wall that says, “BEAT IT!” in big letters.

Me:Oohhh yeah, I forgot that poster. You’re gonna want to take that one down.

12 y/o Roo:What? Oh I get it, you can’t tell me. It’s a space-time continuum kinda thing, huh?

Me:And stop talking like that, it’ll only delay what becomes a painfully prolonged virginity.

12 y/o Roo:Ok. I guess I’ll just have to wait for 2008 when I am CEO of Rupert-Tech industries, have 12 dogs plus my own monkey and live in a super mansion, right? That is what happens, isn’t it?

Sunday, November 23, 2008

For the Californians Who Voted for Prop 8

I bet you feel like a bunch of schmucks now, huh? In just the past 50 yrs California has been called a lot of things. Some called you hippies or flower children. Brian Wilson wished that every girl could be just like you. Not all the names were playfully kind. Others referred to you as beach bums or weirdos. Of course most Californians, and those in Berkeley, LA or SF especially, thought that they were “progressive”.

And while I don’t necessarily agree that being “progressive” is always the best option (many still believe that ideas like socialism are progressive, despite it universally failing on a national scale), I respect that Californians do things their own way. It’s been cool to see Cali set trends that the rest of the country, including NY, emulate months down the line. No one pays much attention to Arkansas or Mississippi unless there’s a photogenic, white woman missing, some dumbass kid who falls down a well or a college bowl game. Expectations are higher for CA, and you guys really let me down on this one.

I’m not even going to formulate an argument on why gay marriage should be allowed b/w 2 consenting adults. The fact that I would need to construct such a statement is insulting itself. What I don’t get is why it bothers people what others do behind closed doors. There are some personal exceptions that I tend to add to this list and they include: Children, animals and retards. If you belong to one of these groups, you probably need some higher authority to look out for your subpar ass.. Even Forrest Gump had his momma. Otherwise, all bets are off.

You want to be the Felching King of Chicago… at your service, my Lord. Plan on sharing a cold lunch w/ your lover? Bon appetit! Let’s not discuss my med school pal Dr. Sanchez, first name:Dirty. While none of these activities are up my alley (my personal fetish was always having sex w/ really attractive women, but that’s just me) I don’t care if you do any of it in your own home, apt or Grandma’s dining room.

For some odd reason, activities much tamer than these seem to really freak out most Californians. And that’s too bad for them. At least now they won’t have to worry about anyone calling them elitists anymore, because “bigoted cowards” is so much more accurate. “Hippie” doesn’t sound so bad about now, does it?

Thursday, November 20, 2008

My Last Supper, Literally

The other night I grilled a 1.5” thick porterhouse steak to a perfect medium rare. Internal temp of 140 degrees and then it sat covered for 10 mins to complete the cooking process (Bobby Flay would be so proud). To fully realize this entrée I steamed some cauliflower and whipped up these tasty garlic mashed potatoes. Sounds pretty good, huh? Well I forgot to mention one other side dish- pubes. I’ll elaborate.


"There is no love sincerer than the love of food."
-George Bernard Shaw



By the time I had plated my meal and sat down w/ a glass of cab, I noticed a curly, brown hair resting like a fainéant on my steak. This was no eyelash. Not to be outdone, an even longer sister-pube was soon identified basking next to the butter melting on my mashed potatoes. Follicular ambush; 2 pubes at once! Now I was wearing flannel boxers, jeans and a collared shirt while all of this transpired. So unless this was like a Houdini pube, I don’t see how it could’ve escaped the cover of my clothes. Additionally, the air temp inside the grill was 400-550 degrees, much too warm for any normal pube to survive unscathed. I can’t rule out w/ certainty that the pubes weren’t mine. And it would make sense that pubes containing this high level of durability and intrepidity would come from an individual such as myself. Not that they looked familiar or anything.

Still it was enough to make me pause in disgust for several seconds. After this brief hesitation I promptly devoured the meal, of course removing the twin pubes first.

I didn't have a strong ending for this one, but I thought that this protestor's sign was pretty funny b/c it works on multiple levels. 2 levels, actually.

Monday, November 17, 2008

Awesome Commercials

I spent this past Sunday watching football, playing poker and grilling w/ a couple of great friends. Pretty nice, eh? And since my recent experiences w/ the Bears have been more disappointing than the times I wake up alone in my Star Wars sheets after a sex dream about Jessica Alba, I was much more focused on the commercials than football.

Here’s a brief overview of my favs from Sunday. By “favs” I mean “commercials that make me pray for cancer”.

1.Coors Lite and “venting”
The idea here is a pun on the word “vent” meaning A.to express one’s thoughts forcefully or B.to air out by means of an outlet or opening(like on the top of a beer can). The only way these definitions relate to beer is choice B. Instead of selling Coors Lite on great flavor or low carbs the new strategy is:“We have a bigger hole in our can than any of our competitors. Other beers may have less calories or not taste like donkey piss… but come on! Ours has a bigger hole in the can!” It’s like they’re not even trying.

2.Shamwow!
For those unfamiliar w/ Shamwow, it’s a set of towels that can absorb like 10x the liquid of normal paper towels. The ad is quick to remind you that, “They’re made in Germany! You know the Germans make good stuff”. Yeah… German tanks, pistols and giant ovens that are so big you could even fit a human body inside! My favorite part of the ad is when the spokesman says, “You’re gonna spend $20 a month on paper towels anyway!” Really? Maybe if you’re the Brady Bunch. Or if you live with Chunk from Goonies, and he’s constantly dropping shit all over your carpet. I still desperately want Shamwow for Christmas. Many can attest that I have the spatio-temporal coordination of a pot-smoking chimpanzee and will often spill large glasses of wine or grape Kool Aid (depending on the time of day).


3.Pretty much any drug marketed directly to the public
As a doctor I find these to be deplorable. I like the Lunesta ad (sleeping pill, like Ambien) where, in the litany of side effects it states: “Lunesta may make you drowsy”. It’s a fucking sleeping pill, I should hope so! Drug companies have done a ton of good over the yrs, but seeing these ads makes me want to overdose on Lunesta.

4.The animal relief ads that play Sara McLachlan's "Angel"
For those of you who think I can be callous, I can’t get through this one without tearing up a bit. Especially when they show the dog that only has 1 eye, holy shit. It’s an effective ad, but really depressing. Now I actually do feel like downing a 6 pack of Coors Lite, they should piggyback these ads.

5.Terrible political spots
I wish I had a prime example to post here but my laziness has overcome me. Nearly all of these ads are horrible: “Dick Durbin is a dried up, stinky, dick licker. He will rape your daughter and convert your family to Islam. He voted 90% of the time to pass resolutions that would require you to kiss his taint. Dick Durbin wants to kick your pet and then, uhh… force your son to be gay and marry the neighbor’s boy. He’s also a Packers fan!” These must work b/c they keep getting made. PS, I really don’t like Dick Durbin.

6.Cadillac perv commercials
Dr. Montgomery (Kate Walsh) from Grey’s Anatomy asks you something like, “When you turn your car on… does it return the favor?” Then the camera pans to her stripper-grade high heels pressing down on the acceleration pedal. I understand that they’re trying to make a Cadillac appear more youthful and sexy. Walsh does have a very MILFy air about her. But the only people I know that buy new Cadillacs are the Medicare patients who beg me for Viagra scripts. GM must really take their consumer base to be sex-starved to fall for this one.

7.Smelly nuts campaign
Planters has an ad featuring a generally unattractive woman who rubs peanuts on her neck and wrists as though it were fine perfume. Of course all the men she encounters are quickly smitten. The underlying message here is: “Straight men love the sweet scent of nuts. If given the option, the average man would gladly bury his face in nuts and take a deeeep inhale”. Gay undertones aside, this marketing plan could’ve had potential in the reverse. Put an attractive, but clearly slutty celebrity (Paris, J. Lo, Lohan, etc) in the ad and have a guy rubbing Planters all over himself. Next Paris Hilton throws her Skeletor-like body on the nut-smelling stranger. Then the message of, “Paris Hilton loves the smell of your nuts” would be both comical and accurate.

For the record, I think Paris Hilton looks like the Geico lizard.

Friday, November 14, 2008

30 Going on 13

Criticize me for having a sophomoric, low-grade sense of humor all that you want. People’s concept of funny is as variegated as their idea of fashion or music. And similar to those 2 fields, there is some agreement on things that are novel, difficult to reproduce or unequivocally creative. A girl I was messing around w/ in med school demonstrated this fact to me. There’s an ice skating event called “Skate on State” that is organized in the Chicago Loop every winter. I took this woman to the rink one afternoon and bought some hot chocolate for us. It was cold, but not frigid. And we sat very close, leather-gloved hand in leather-gloved hand. We were in that beginning stage where it was still exciting just to kiss. Then she started asking questions


“You can only be young once. But you can always be immature” –Dave Barry


“So you can’t skate? Why are we here then?” She asked me in an innocent tone.

“No, I can skate very well. But the rental skates are shitty and the ice is cut up.” I replied.

“So you like watching the other people, huh? It is kind of romantic down here with the lights and the snow…” She started to drift and here is where I should’ve just shut the hell up.

“Kind of. I like watching the bad skaters fall. I think it’s hilarious. Particularly the fat ones, cuz they tend to bounce a little off the ice. It’s awesome.” I was giddy with excitement as a 300lb 12 year-old came barreling toward our side of the rink with the stability of a drunk Parkinsons patient who just got off the Tilt-A-Whirl.

She was mortified. Cue the music that plays when a kid misses the first Bozo bucket. Bottom line is that a lot of life is about social contracts and watching what you say. Here is a brief list of some of my encounters in the past 6-10 months. Note:These are real.

1.An African-American woman, who was secretary to the chief of medicine at a major Chicago hospital upon offering me coffee prior to a job interview:
“Do you take it black?”

2.My Father to me at our family Christmas dinner of 2007:
“Son, do you want me to toss your salad?”

3.Effeminate, energetic man at Whole Foods who was peddling samples on me:
“Why don’t you try my hard salami?”

4.My Dad again. This time discussing what to get his GF for Christmas:
“I’m thinking of giving her a pearl necklace…”

5.My former residency program director (who was female) talking about grand rounds:
“If I have to I will make you come.”

It’s like that awful Jennifer Gardner movie called 13 Going On 30 only reverse the numbers. And yes, I did rent that piece of shit when I lived in TX if that’s any indication of my social life during residency. Although Gardner is clearly very hot she sucks in anything not called Alias, and the writing was laughable; but not during the parts designed to be funny. But I could still relate to the character in that I often feel like a 12 year-old kid only with a muscular, adult body and massive genitalia. Ok not entirely. A kid can dream though, right?

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Advertising Reality Each Morning

According to marketing guru Seth Grodin, the fundamental theorem of advertising is that, “perception trumps reality”. I spent the last 3 days reading his book called All Marketers Are Liars and I really enjoyed it. Many people in medicine become so entrenched in their field that it’s challenging to have a discussion with them about anything other than their patients. I see myself possessing these same deficiencies and have tried to make myself a more well-rounded individual. I’m sure lawyers disproportionately talk about their cases, teachers about students and mechanics about cars. One difference: No one but doctors are doing their job >120hrs a wk. This monolithic saturation of ideas can be uniquely overpowering in medicine.

That is why I read a book about marketing; a field in which I am completely clueless. That and I really liked the 2nd season of Mad Men. Grodin has some great ideas and I wanted to apply that energy to an area near and dear to me: kid’s breakfast cereal. I know I’m not the only 30 y/o with a graduate degree who spends mornings reading Proust while choosing between Cocoa Pebbles or Count Chocula, right? Those catchy jingles from the 80’s are with me to the grave. I was raised on sugary, high-calorie breakfast cereal. The stuff that would turn the milk brown. That regimen combined with daily Cherry Cokes w/ Happy Meals and it’s a wonder I’m not a huge, fat ass today (Thank god for tapeworms).

My preadolescent, parasite-ridden body aside, I wanted to attempt interpreting what marketers are trying to make children think about their products while giving examples for each assertion. Some of these should be familiar.

“How can anybody be enlightened? Truth is, after all, so poorly lit.” –Geddy Lee


1.This shit is so good that others will steal in order to attain it
This is a very common thread in the biz. The Cookie Crisp Crook is always trying to steal a bowl of that cookie goodness. Trix the Rabbit is told repeatedly that his favorite food is most certainly not for him, but he tries again and again to obtain it. The Lucky Charms Leprechaun faces a similar dilemma as kids constantly try to steal his only means of sustenance. The same school of thought created the infamous Hamburglar for McDonalds, one of the geniuses in marketing to America’s youth.

2.This shit is so good that others have gone crazy in pursuit of it
I’m not sure if presenting a food product as being the choice of the mentally ill is the best route to take, but it sure works for Sonny and his Cocoa Puffs. I’d also question the mental health of Woody Woodpecker and the Cinnamon Toast Crunch Chefs.

3.The use of appealing, often singing, spokesmen (AKA:you will be attractive if you have this shit)
There are lots of cute, cuddly characters to choose from here. Most notable are Snap, Crackle and Pop and the California Raisins. I also file Tony the Tiger and that colorful Toucan Sam under this category. This approach is tantamount to a skin care ad with Hayden Panitie… uhh.. the jail bait girl from Heroes. Using good looking people to sell something is pretty much the oldest trick in the book. I’m also grouping celebrity endorsement under this section as I remember eating cereals labeled Star Wars, Mr. T, Gremlins and Ghostbusters, NTM countless athletes on the cover of Wheaties.

4.People are willing to fight to protect this shit
Similar to #1, except the product advocate is protecting said item instead of stealing it themselves. Military man Cap’N Crunch valiantly battled the Soggies in a critical campaign. More comically, Buzzbee defended Cheerios and Digg’Em did the same thing for Honey Smacks.

5.Only cool people use this shit
Snoopy’s Joe Cool has been used to sell Cheerios. Same concept for his cross-species cousin, the Sugar Bear. Incidentally, Chester Cheetah was derived from the same formula.

There are lots of great cereal spokesmen I missed, but they would probably fit into one of the above categories. An entirely different article could be based on their slogans b/c what these cartoons are saying is equally contributive to their total gestalt. The message of this gestalt is overwhelming:You need this shit!!! In a world in which sympathetic feelings based on irrational “wants” doesn’t match up well w/ real world “needs”, this plan of attack works very well. Telling the truth about their crappy, processed cereal does not. A fact-based, honest description of the food they’re selling would be a losing business model no matter how many Disney characters were put on the cover.

Telling the truth doesn’t work on a large scale. The truth is often blurred or altogether distorted. You’d like to think that simple marketing tricks wouldn’t work on adults but of course you’d be wrong. It’d be nice if advertising lies and making impossible promises about a product wouldn’t work on grownups, although it happens every day. Sometimes buyer’s remorse can mean more than feeling like a chump the next day. With that I’m going to get back to feeding my tapeworm some Frankenberry and perusing the exit polls on CNN.COM.