A few weeks ago, NCDSUV began broadcasting a new feature known as Just Because, highlighting something inane, obscurely amazing or just plain jaw-dropping from the outlines of pop culture and viral content.
These differ from, say, insanely retarded local ads, or eccentric YouTube karaoke performers, which can be grouped into their own self-referencing regular spotlights. Nor do they need to be burdened by standards of timeliness or having been as-yet-unearthed.
They are the standalone wonders of the cybersphere that made us all get a computer in the first place, and occasionally need to be inserted into a day of normal online programming. Just because.
So while last week we shared the unspeakable pleasure of a unitard-sporting, sort-of breakdancing Jean Claude Van Damme circa a quarter-century ago, today we bring you five minutes of bratty animated bliss that's both preciously innocent in retrospect and graphically ahead of its time.
Welcome back to one of NSCDUV's most beloved daily features, which takes aim at the most confounding, misleading or abruptly hysterical info-bar synopses of the day's cable programming.
And while Wednesday saw a Martin Scorsese cult classic get morphed into a bizarre-o Jim Henson urban fantasy-nightmare, today we lighten up a bit, with the (literal) genius of Walter Matthau as Albert Einstein.
Welcome to NCDSUV's newest daily feature, where we acknowledge
another turn of the calendar for a member of Hollywood land, even if
it's a celebrity who often goes overlooked by the rest of the
blogosphere, and regardless of whether we have a huge affinity for
their body of work.
Yesterday, we wished a happy Turkey Day to birthday nerd Steve Urkel (or at least his real-life doppleganger Jaleel White), and today, we're happy to report it's another year older for a certain buddy of Stephen Colbert's.
From Black Friday to the Thursday following, Films From The Cable Afterlife fleeces you for your time and effort as you sit on your couch, absorbing the lost stocking stuffers from video's filthy past, and all of the discomfort that comes with it. Roll up your sleeves, because this brain drain time suck isn't going to unclog itself.
8. Channel Of The Apes Fox Movie Channel, Thursday, November 27 thru Sunday, November 30 Good god. It's every Planet Of The Apes movie, along with all of the serialized episodes of the TV show. All they're missing is the animated series. Seriously though, this is a perfectly valid way to spend 96 hours, especially as you get to the less successful iterations of this sci-fi chestnut. If you can make it through Life, Liberty And Pursuit On The Planet Of The Apes, you have what it takes... to do what, I have no idea
.
7. Under Pressure (1997) HBO Signature, Monday, December 1, 1am; HBO2, Wednesday, December 3, 4:40am Look for the name Craig R. Baxley, a '70s stuntman-turned-director of action schlock, for a promise of wild times within. Miles away from leading Carl Weathers through Action Jackson and "The Boz" through Stone Cold, we have this fetid little steamer, with rogue fireman Charlie Sheen snapping in a Los Angeles heat wave and taking his next-door neighbors hostage. Also starring Mare Winningham and Cheers' John Ratzenberger, last seen horrifyingly animated in a commercial for Pitney-Bowes self-postage machines.
6. Hammer House Mystery: Mark Of The Devil (1984) Fox Movie Channel, Monday, December 1, 4:30pm Handsome actor Dirk Benedict (Faceman!) is slowly covered in demonic tattoos that foretell heinous murders and crimes. Did he commit 'em? Who cares! It's a rare chance to see such talent dying on the vine; made-for-TV shocks from the UK's greatest horror studio.
5. Tim (1979) FLIX, Monday, December 1, 2:30pm Mel Gibson, right after Mad Max, goes for the Dewey Award as a learning-disabled gardener who begins a tender (or is it?) relationship with a female client (Piper Laurie). Wait for the scenes where he's wigging out. The Other Sister's got nothing on this one.
Forget being thankful for things like, oh, not having just had terrorists ravage your entire metropolitan city in India. No, in the mystical universe that is pop culture (which stops for no one and no human tragedy), we can look up at the heavens and offer our gratitude that on Sunday night, Britney Spears will bring the conspicuously rapid cycle of her public meltdown and subsequent redemption full circle with MTV's 90-minute documentary For The Record.
By sheer coincidence, Britney was willing to film the mini-flick for airing a mere two days before her Circus album hits shelves. But hey, when you're following up the release of Chinese Democracy, you gotta step up your game.
So as you finally emerge from your tryptophan coma and ready to re-enter the work week sans True Blood and Entourage to bring you back from the ledge, remember to thank Ms. Spears for her bravery in confronting her demons with all the candor and courage of a vintage Saddam Hussein press conference.
Or just step back and appreciate your friends, family, the roof over your head and the fact that you managed to evade being taken hostage by political vigilantes. Whichever.
Welcome to NCDSUV's newest <a href="http://www.nudecelebritydeathsuv.com/daily_features/"
target="_blank">daily feature</a>, where we acknowledge
another turn of the calendar for a member of Hollywood land, even if
it's a celebrity who often goes overlooked by the rest of the
blogosphere, and regardless of whether we have a huge affinity for
their body of work.
On Wednesday, we blew out the candles for expert a woman who would probably rather have been blowing us, Aurora Snow. Today, we de-flame the (probably trick) candles for one of TV's greatest über-geeks.
Bill Maher: King Straw Man and blowhard, setting up easy marks to bust through like the Kool-Aid Man breaking up a brick wall. However, where the latter doles out sugar water to turn our children into obese pieces of feces, all Maher churns out are half-assed specious arguments that, like mad cow disease, turn our brains into Swiss.
Now, as far as whether his butthole-iness is engendered by his libertarian beliefs, we'll leave that to future historians writing their dissertation on schmucks who lived right before the world fell apart into blodclots. However... wait a second... straw man? Blowhard? Both describing Maher? I guess you could say he blows himself! The height of wit!!!
Let's look at Maher's new up-bore-eous documentary Religulous, a portmanteau of "religious" and "ridiculous." In the same spirit, we can say "Maher" is a portmanteau of "malice" and "hernia," both for the ill-intended spite he spits like a foul-mouthed cobra and also for the fact that he is a pain in the groin. A horrendous, bulging pain that you cannot treat because you have no health insurance. (That insult was incredibly tortured. I'd be indicted if people actually were punished for gross violations of U.S. and international law.)
Thanks to the Huffington Post, who opted to go slightly beyond our morally and spiritually defeated kvetching and actually investigate the details of Heidi Montag and Spencer Pratt's supposed eloping/definitive Us Weekly raping, the likelihood of their nuptials being a legally unrecognizable farce has crystallized.
The Us photo spread has the standard allotment of wedding-gown pics and what have you, in addition to their vows (don't tell me the performed reading of those suckers wouldn't make for a satirical off-Broadway hit), but apparently there's no proof that they got a marriage license or took part in a civil ceremony, not to mention California doesn't recognize marriages outside of the U.S. And certainly not in their hot, dusty neighbor to the south, Mexico.
Of course, the fact that they could grab national headlines for staging a fake marriage is somehow more maddening than if they had tied the knot for real and launched a subsequent self-indulgent press campaign. So you win again, Speidi, but I assure you, vengeance of some kind will rear its Hills-crashing head, no matter how long it takes me, or how far I must travel! (Well, as long as it doesn't involve leaving my couch, but lots of other magical things have happened here.)
I guess we have our answer to the eternal question: "What you gonna do when Hulkamania comes chasing after you because you're banging his ex-wife and are still young enough where you should be eating your vitamins?" And the answer is, file a request for a restraining order that gets denied by the courts, meaning you should probably be a good 19-year-old sycophant and say your prayers.
Teenage paramour Charley Hill, whose apparently been dating Hulk Hogan's ex-implant recipient Linda (or at least according to photos and reports no doubt seeded by Linda's PR folks to polish her image now that she's done polishing the Hulkster's steroid-shrunken knob) thinks Hogan is going to injure and/or kill him and has been following him around in his car.
Welcome back to one of NSCDUV's most beloved daily features, which takes aim at the most confounding, misleading or abruptly hysterical info-bar synopses of the day's cable programming.
And while yesterday saw John Landis running amok throughout Hollywood with all manner of ill-conceived ideas, today we turn to the apparently fantastical land of generally gritty maestro Martin Scorsese.
