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You’d have to be brain dead to have missed the buzz around Geoffry A. Rawlin’s Philosophical Zombie 2 (P-Zed2). Moviegoers delighted at the original Philosophical Zombie, a blockbuster hit which threatened to overturn the zombie horror genre. The sequel promises us a bigger story, more zombies, and more horror, all on a bigger budget. Sounds good. But as a critic, I must ask the question: does the film live up to the hype?
 Oooh, baby, you're too hot for Milo. How about you dump that chump and become the Venus de Tanzmetall instead? Seriously, I can’t be alone in this. I mean, I’m not crazy, I know they’re not actual women you can “do the deed with”, so to speak. But their breasts are always perfectly proportioned! And I just know that, if they weren’t made of hard plastic, they’d be just the right size to gently cup in my hand. And, of course, if they were real, they would love me. Two security scares this weekend led to panic and paranoia among the citizens of Detroit, the center of American industry and culture that the terrorists had wisely targeted. This attempt to destroy a city that the rest of the country looks up to in awe is basically the terrorists’ way of saying, “Merry Christmas, America.” I play Dungeons and Dragons. There, I said it. It’s out there, go ahead and mock my basement-dwelling, Mountain Dew-chugging, cheese puff-eating tushie. I play D&D. And y’know what? I enjoy it. It’s freakin’ fun. There’s something missing from the D&D experience though. At times, the adventure can seem a bit too disconnected from the reality we live in (fancy that). Noting this, I took it upon myself to add a new class to the ranks of Barbarian, Wizard, Ranger, and the like, a hero for a more refined age. Ladies, Gentlemen, and otherwise… I present the Democrat character class for D&D 3.5!
Am i doin it rite?  And then buy them wit'cho cash money “A merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!”, cried a cheerful voice. It was the voice of Scrooge’s nephew, who came upon him so quickly that this was the first intimation he had of his approach. “Bah!”, said Scrooge. “Humbug!” He had so heated himself with rapid walking in the fog and frost, this nephew of Scrooge’s, that he was all in a glow; his face was ruddy and handsome; his eyes sparkled, and his breath smoked again. “Christmas a humbug, uncle?”, said Scrooge’s nephew. “You don’t mean that, I am sure?” “I do”, said Scrooge. “‘Merry Christmas’! What right have you to be merry? What reason have you to be merry? You’re poor enough.” “Come, then”, returned the nephew gaily. “What right have you to be dismal? What reason have you to be morose? You’re rich enough.” |
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