Archive for the ‘Reviews of Things’ Category

Jeopardy!—We’re All Stars Now, in the GOAT Show

Saturday, 18 January 2020

The Jeopardy! folks fucked up.  Why in the hell would they run the GOAT show on another channel?  I had no idea it was on and missed all but the last 10 minutes of the first episode.  Caught the middle ep but not the last (final?) one, now saved on the box and waiting for Sunday.  I have my suspicions about who won.  You could be a dick and spoil it in the comments but there’d no payoff for you as I don’t care. 

I happened to be an avid watcher during Ken Jennings’ 2004 run.  Everyone was amazed and thrilled with the winning streak, less so, I think, with Ken himself.  A friend told me he saw an interview where Jennings referred to himself as a “genius,” and that was the end of Jennings for me.  (There are two things in life you cannot seriously call yourself, a genius and an old soul.)

Nothing much happened Jeopardy!wise until Holzhauer.  He, too, was thrilling.  At first.  Soon I became a ‘Holzhauer hater,’ not of him in real life but as his game show “character,” starting with his dubious claim of a career in sports betting.  I didn’t care for that weird non-smile of his either. 

As Holzhauer’s wins grew I suspected he was cheating, damned if I knew how.  It would be extremely unlikely but not impossible.  Maybe he makes it on his own for a week when a disgruntled clue writer makes him an offer: “Give me half your winnings and I’ll give you the categories/answers in advance.”  Maybe two of the buzzers aka signaling devices are rigged to misfire every 3 clicks.  Absurd?  Stranger things have happened.   

What is Jeopardy! really?  A memory recall game of factual data based on speed. Finally I admitted “Jeopardy James” (I hate that title) wasn’t cheating and was what he appeared to be: well-studied and able to accurately recall information faster than his opponents.  He seemed to have mastered the signaling device early on and his strategy of huge bets and sweeping the bottom row obviously worked.  He also got another advantage that had nothing to do with skill.  I could be imagining this, but didn’t regular shows have a long-assed pause for Teen Week or something?  That may have broken Holzhauer’s rhythm but given him plenty more time to study. Towards the end of his run I savored every answer he missed, especially the few he missed but I got.

Gradually I began to hate Holzhauer’s opponents almost as much as him. Even after the long Teen break, new contestants still seemed oblivious to whom they were going up against.  Their only hope was to rob His Smirkness of the Daily Doubles.  It was an evening of cathartic joy when that very thing happened and he was finally taken out by a one-hit-wonder woman, same as Jennings had.

I underestimated Holzahauer’s effect on the game itself, I thought he’d changed it forever, like the Fosbury flop changed the high jump.  But no, bozos still waste time reading the entire titles of categories instead of one key word.  They still don’t sweep the bottom row, even in categories they might be strong; rarely do they go big on bets except in dire straits.

I haven’t much to say about Rutter as I never heard of him or saw him compete before last year’s Tournament of Champions Group Orgy or whatever TF it was called.  Rutter won the most Jeopardy! money ever you say? Ha. That wasn’t going to save him during the GOAT show, and from what little I saw it did not. Still, I found myself rooting for Rutter, because he was the least unlikable.  Probably he’s  as arrogant as the other two, just able to hide it better. Being the least nerdy/most handsome of the GOATS I understand he parlayed his winnings into a career in Hollowood but have never seen him in anything else. Of the one and one-eighth shows I watched he was losing badly.

So did Jennings win? Last I saw he’d won two games to Holzy’s one and Rutter’s none.

I would be a smidge happier if Jennings won.  But not really.  

 

 

The Adorable Last

Wednesday, 8 January 2020

I christened the lovely Maryann Penzvalto the penultimate Jeopardy! hottie but meant penultimate not as a rank but merely as, “last but one in a series of things; second last.” 

This my final (as the Chinese might say) Jeopardy! Make Glorious Female to Celebrate Observatory Review.

 

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Psychology research indicates women choose kind, considerate, financially dependable fellows for marriage but long-haired, bad boy, roid-raging toughs for flings, aka fucking.

Men take a similar path. Hot, slutty thots with titties the size of blimps, shapely rumps and legs are for play while sensible, cute women with a pleasant personality are for marriage. 

Cute in this context is not just another adjective, it’s everything.

So, in the spirit of shallowness, allow to me to explain that for the long haul, Cute beats Hot every time.

“Hot” is a short-lived phase in any woman’s life.  Much of a hot woman’s time and energy is spent trying to maintain an impossible level of beauty even while at her peak.  Men fight for her attention like noisy seagulls chasing a french fry, trying anything and everything to win her favor. A hot woman hooked on this level of adulation is less likely to learn other life skills; this is where cute girls and women have a long game advantage.

More people agree on standards of beauty than cuteness, so cute women (and men) are often overlooked. This forces them to try harder and learn useful things.  A cute woman really has the ultimate advantage:  cuteness can last an entire lifetime with minimal maintenance.  It is the slow-and-steady-wins-the-race form of beauty. Cute women are capable of turning up the heat, glowing beautifully or sexily in short, precious bursts while hot women supernova and contract into a smaller star.  An older hot woman can never be cute, just compared to how hot she was “long ago.”

(Worry not, ladies, there are millions if not billions of men who will take anything they can get, some of whom are wealthy.)

Ben Franklin noted every woman has something going for them: butterfaces still take great pride in their bodies and women with neither outstanding faces nor bodies take pride in their skills and abilities. (Remember, the guy on our $100 note wrote that if you put a basket over an older woman’s head it’s just like fucking a young one, since age starts in the face and works its way down.)

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karen farrell grid photo

Jeopardy! winner Karen Farrell is the total cute package and marriage material. (Someone thought so, and already married her.) 

Farrell looks like actress Megan Boone, who plays Elizabeth Keen on The Blacklist, only Karen is far more adorable.  Tastefully hiding her wonderfully enormous endowments with overcoats, Karen also has the perfect smile and cheeks which were likely endlessly pinched as a kid (a veritable #metoo crime today.)

The combination of stage lighting as Karen described her new role as a stay-at-home mom to baby Elizabeth gave her a bright, golden aura.

It may have also cost her tonight’s game. Remembering her little one distracted Karen at a time the sharp-as-a-razor granny at the other end of the dais wasn’t taking prisoners. No matter, we’ll see Karen Farrell again during the next Jeopardy! Tournament of Champions.

Stay tuned.

 

 

The penultimate Jeopardy! hottie

Sunday, 5 January 2020

Do people even say “hottie” anymore? 

To kind of set the tone, or at least make my tribute mild by comparison.

I did not make this and Kirstin Cutts is NOT the one being celebrated here.  Cutts was cute, but let fame go to her chin.

While Cutts is attractive she is no…

Maryann Penzvalto

...Maryann Penzvalto

A librarian from Cleveland, Ohio, Maryann plays the ukelele (aka “uke”) , loves Harry Pottter (insert wand joke) and was on not one but TWO of America’s bestest game shows!

Though I had to have seen her on Jeops in 2018, I didn’t quite remember her, or was too lazy to write down her name at the time.

I really saw her for the first time on Wheel last year.

I remember it very vividly: she wore this orange blouse. It was the first time I ever saw her in a blouse like that. That orange blouse is burned in my memory.

Maryann Penzvalto wheel

 

Beauty should be celebrated and so should brains, if they fill out an orange blouse like that.  Yay!

 

2018 Jeopardy! Sexbomb alert

Wednesday, 24 January 2018

Note from Jan 2020:  I’m surprised people still read this post and the other Jeopardy! women posts.  It’s pointless.  I know I’ve written it elsewhere but here it is again:  highly intelligent women are not the answer.  Sapiosexuals are probably a myth.  I don’t care about any of these women, they don’t exist anymore, just like the fool who wrote about them doesn’t exist anymore.  Enjoy!  

About a year ago I started watching Jeopardy! again.  On a good night I get maybe half the answers right, but those good nights are rare.  There are too many lakes and Canada questions, plus FUCK OPERA.

For a brief time years ago, I was cataloging Jeopardy! Sexbombs.  Not many, a few.  A commenter who knew one of the ladies suggested the contestant would not be flattered by my admiration of her ‘giant rack’, or words to that effect.  Also, I updated that post last year, regarding being a male sapiosexual and how it won’t help you.  I’m too lazy to look.

So: Rachel Lindgren:  

This unassuming 26-year-old ‘Fire Lookout’ from Bend, Oregon just does it for me.  She’s soft-spoken and incredibly sensuous, especially when she tilts her head ever-so-slightly.  Yeah, I’m smitten.

Plus I believe she has a somewhat rockin’ body under those schoolmarm sweaters.

I hope she makes it 5 days so we’ll see her again in the Champions thingy.

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CODA:  Well, Rach finally took a shit but made it to 5 days.  I don’t expect her to last more than a night during the Champions Week.  If there’s one thing Rach taught us, when you’re clueless about the Final, bet small and let your opponents trip over their dicks.  Is it a perfect stratagery?  Hardly, but it worked for her.  

 

HONORABLE JEPS! MENTION:  Flora Leen. Appeared One Night Only.  Bigguns, long dark hair, eyes.  Her kavorka was even more powerful than R’s.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Star Wars Crapisode VIII

Sunday, 26 November 2017

Well my nigs, if The Phantom Menace was a disastrous date with a beautiful stranger then The Force Awakens was date rape. After seeing the latter I was extra-pissed at having to buy the ticket in advance, in a theater with assigned seating. Never again.

If you’ve seen the trailer for The Last Jedi you already know it’s going to be a bad clone of The Empire Strikes Back. What gave it away? The snow fox, a still frame of a line of parked AT-ATs, and knowing Disney won’t take risks.

I don’t care about any of the characters, new or old. Rey is a poor replacement for Luke. Whether she turns evil or not makes no difference.

Hamill has said he entirely disagrees with the direction they took Luke. My guess is he won’t even leave Irish Island or wherever the fuck he’s hiding until Crapisode 9.

If Finn had been White, you would wonder what his character is even doing there. Same for the new X-wing pilot, who has scenes outside the cockpit yet is less memorable than Wedge or even Porkins.

The trailer also implies that Leia just stands in place on the bridge of a ship while her jug-eared, tantrum-throwing Vader-wannabe son locks missiles on her. TFA did nothing with her character, now she’s CG and it makes no difference.

Anyway, that’s that.

 

 

Star Trek: Discovery?

Wednesday, 11 October 2017

My new rule is never to put more effort into reviews of things than the creators did creating it. So here are some notes on Star Trek: Discovery.

* Decent effects and acting. Not as politically correct as I thought but still problems.

* The lead is a human Black woman who was raised on Vulcan by–wait for it–Spock’s parents.

* Vulblack is sent out alone in a spacesuit, copying Spock in the first Star Trek movie. They send the show’s lead–second in command–when they have a ROBOT crewmember wearing a Daft Punk helmet on the bridge.

* The Chinese Womancaptain failed to heed Vulblack’s valuable tactical advice for defeating Klingons, advice which should have been readily available to anyone in Starfleet.

* Chinese Womancaptain is killed for being an idiot. Vulblack gets the blame.

* The #1 in Command of the Federation Fleet shows up at the disastrous battle. An arrogant White Guy, his ship is rammed and destroyed.

* In the latest episode, another woman is killed for making a rash decision to bully a massive alien lifeform. Women are bad luck on ships.

* The show’s creators explained the Klingons are “Trump supporters.” For that to be true, the Klingon government would have open orders and be flooding Klingon territory with foreigners.

* The Klingons who yell, “REMAIN KLINGON!” are written by writers who IRL yell,”REMAIN JEWISH!” In other words, only Jews and Asians are allowed to preserve their unique cultures. Everyone else must suffer DIVERSITY, including Klingons.

* Klingons are warriors who find meaning in battle. They don’t need a PC excuse to do anything.

* The writers boasted Discovery would have a Gay in the regular cast. In the first episode they killed of The Gay’s partner. In other words, Gay & Switch.

* For The Record: I am against any non-Vulcan being able to deliver the Vulcan nerve pinch, so Data and Vulblack can cram it. I always assumed the Pinch works like a Taser and only Vulcans could do it due to telepathy.

* There’s so much shit out there it’s not worth getting mad over a single TV show.

* I love this song.  Beautiful for lovers and serial killers alike.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

American Gods Ep. 4: Tits or GTFO

Monday, 22 May 2017

Ep 4 of American Gods is automatically better than Ep 3 because there are no futt-bucking muslims anywhere. We get the story of the whore wife. What’s worse than her cheating on Sha-dope was marrying the poor fool. He loves her, she loves nothing. More insulting, we see her ass (or a body double’s ass) for less than a second and NO titties, this after last week’s unwelcome gay muslim sausage-fest (for which today’s muslim bombing of the Ariana Grande concert is revenge?)

This is the first episode Sha-dope is allowed to emote, giving him some depth, so there’s that. The saddest part was Dummy the Cat. I was disappointed his ghost self didn’t appear in Anubis’ afterlife sandbox, even just to take a shit.

Oh and uh, since the Hannibal TV show dudes made AG, “Tobias” is back as one of the Old Gods.

 

American Gods Ep. 3: gay Jinn and Juice

Thursday, 18 May 2017

We’re almost to the halfway mark of the awful American Gods.  By now you and I are used to the pointless vignettes of random gods interacting with their unfortunate believers. We’ve seen Vikings aka White Warriors made to look like fools by a never-seen wind god, then the following week a Plaid Pimp God of Black Slaves—with a hate-Whitey speech most certainly polished by Shlomo—forcing his followers to commit mass suicide.  At Ep. 3’s start it’s Anubis, only instead of being a man with a dog’s head Nubes is a Black dude, even though ancient Egyptians were not Black.

Forget all that anyway, they’ve outdone themselves this week with muslim finooks.  Well, it’s not really gay since one of the two futt-buckin’ moose limbs is a jinn with flaming eyes.  Just joking, it’s gay times gay times gay and I, like others, predict it’s sure to spur a diaperhead terrorist attack IRL (sadly never in hollywood where promoters of this rubbish reside).

The leprechaun is back, the one who resents “stereotypes” like assuming all ‘chauns are short yet is a fire-haired, pasty-skinned, fighting and drinking Hibernian with an accent Straight Outta Lucky Charms.  Oddly, the ‘chaun needs a certain magic coin to have good luck though otherwise he shits coins out of thin air.  And he didn’t have the bad luck, the poor sap who picked him up while he was hitchhiking did.

To answer your question why I watch this crap if I hate it: it’s only 8 episodes and will be over soon enough.  In its favor this latest ep has probably enraged some muslims with this latest, lauded-by-leftards faggotry.

 

 

 

 

 

Anti-White American Gods

Friday, 12 May 2017

I tried reading American Gods long ago and only made it a few pages. The premise sounded promising but I couldn’t get past the protagonist’s stupid name, “Shadow Moon.” Amazon reviews assured it’s yet another regurgitation of the same left-wing horseshit you can suffer anywhere else. 

FF to 2017 and the American Gods TV series. Shadow Moon is played by a 100% Black dude when in the novel he’s shaded more like Obozo. The author, Neil Gaiman, approved of this change. Why wouldn’t he, when the studio handed him bulging sacks with ‘$’ printed on them?

In the first episode of two released so far, S. Moon starts out in prison. He has a dream where his wife appears and lo, she’s lily-white. Of course.

I’m so tired of this shit, the in-your-face Black Man/White Woman pairings. It’s not incidental and it’s not making the best casting choice. If Shadow Moon was made Black (isn’t naming a Black person Shadow RAYSISS?) to ramp up Diversity, why not employ a Black actress to be his wife? Black women are equally unhappy with these unlikely couples, and should be.

The first episode was passable. Artsy, well-shot but plodding with a simpleton script. You can already tell any Big Reveals later are not going to make up for time invested watching.

Hollywood doesn’t try to temper its Anti-White bias anymore. Every single White person in the first episode is one or a combination of callous, murderous, psychotic, adulterous or raysiss. The one exception is Ian McShane, but
1) his character is central to the story
2) he’s older than bone dust and therefore not a threat.

If the first episode was standard anti-White fare, the second hammers the message home, beginning on A SLAVE SHIP. Slave porn, never depicted for any reason but to enrage Blacks in real life.

One of the slaves makes a prayer to a CG spider, who then appears in the cargo hold as Orlando Jones wearing a plaid pimp-suit, a god named Anansi aka Mr. Nancy.

With his patented bulging bug-eyes and snarls, Jones delivers a hate-Whitey speech worthy of any SJW dignitary, only more deft and literate. Your life is a living hell, Black Man, 400 years, nothing is ever your fault. The only thing missing was a slave wearing a Black Lives Matter t-shirt.

A truly concerned African god might appear before the African kings who enslaved and sold their own people and warn them to stop. Nancy’s solution is to free the original supplicant from his chains and command all the slaves to riot, turning the slave ship into a burning failboat where everyone dies, proving Nancy’s an even bigger asshole than the slave-owners.

Most TV isn’t worth writing a single word about. I wrote this mainly to test my keyboard’s batteries. The new batteries appear to be working.

Iron Fist is a Flop

Thursday, 23 March 2017

       It’s to my shameful laziness I’m watching Iron Fist, which in addition to the now-standard whining about racial casting choices was panned by critics for being shitty and boring.  The critics were right, I’m only two episodes in and doubt I’ll watch a third.

     All of these Marvel Netflix series face the same challenge:  turn a 2-hour movie into 20 interesting hour-long episodes.  There have been 4 such attempts so far: Jessica Jones, Luke Cage and two seasons of Daredevil.

      Daredevil features a popular lead character, talented cast, good action, solid chemistry and interesting villains.  Jessica Jones had characters made interesting by their flaws and a terrifying villain.  Luke Cage mostly sucked, dragging-out a razor-thin plot, but still had solid leads, style and an unexpected great soundtrack.

      Iron Fist has nothing going for it.  Danny Rand is Danny Bland.  He looks like a doughy smelly hippie and walks around New York barefoot, which is the least bizarre thing about him.  His backstory reads like it was invented by an 11-year-old half-remembering Green Arrow and Batman:  Danny Rand, age 10, survives a private plane crash over the Himalayas which kills his billionaire parents (for now, we never see their bodies and since comic book characters pass between life and death like saloon doors they could return at any time.)  He is found by magical martial arts monks who train him to become the Iron Fist, whose sole purpose is to stop a shadowy evil organization called The Hand.  (Let’s hope he can do it, since he claims he’s the only warrior who can stop them.)   

     Now, 15 years later, adult Danny returns to NYC to claim his family business, but instead of going to the media to announce his triumphant return to the land of the living, Danny the Dirty hippie saunters barefoot into his family’s company building and asks to see his father’s former partner or the partner’s son.  The receptionist does what any sane person would do and alerts Security so the audience can get a sneak preview of Danny’s magical martial arts prowess as he wends his way up to the CEO’s office. 

     The villain (or at least antagonist) is a standard corporate businessdick with slicked-back hair.  He and his sister were the children of Daddy Rand’s partner.  In flashback we learn Slick, who was a few years older than Danny, was a major-league asshole and bully.

     The grown-up Slick, now CEO of Rand Corporation (isn’t that a real thing?) is first dismayed by the sight of a filthy hippie in his office and then greatly alarmed when the hippie claims he’s Danny Rand, which if true means Rand owns the company.  Slick and his semi-sexy blonde sister both refuse to believe it, and here’s where the story first shits the hammock:  who can blame them?  “Danny Rand” shows up with no evidence, not even one story or remembrance only the three of them would know.

     Instead of another fight, Danny merely leaves to hang out at a park among tree leaves (barefoot) and a wise White homeless bum who spouts a few semi-poetic lines about society before OD’ing. Next Danny bumps into an Asian woman posting flyers for her martial arts dojo and asks for a job (neglecting to inform her he’s a martial arts master).  Naturally she tells him no, so next Danny breaks into his former childhood home, a brownstone owned by Slick’s blonde sister.  Instead of talking to her when she comes home he flees, only to confront her the next morning outside on a busy street where she can cry for help.  Again, Danny provides zero evidence of his true identity, but he does magically flip over a speeding cab, which only confuses Blondie.

    Really I should stop here, I’ve given ample examples of why Iron Fist doesn’t work.  The writers strove to give Danny Rand a good-natured or well-meaning/innocence vibe but he just comes across as retarded.  In Iron Flop: Part Next we’ll continue this anal-sys written because I’m too lazy to write anything else.