Hey 3.5 readers.
The trailer for Thor: Ragnarok is out and it’s pretty fantastic. The use of Led Zeppelin’s Immigrant Song (“I come from the land of the ice and snow…”) is pretty effective.
What say you, 3.5?
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Search Engine Optimized Poet – Kendall Jenner’s Pepsi Commercial
:::Bongo Drum Beats:::
Hey there all you hep cats and hep kittens. Come on down to the East Randomtown Java Bean, where the poets always stink and the cups are never clean.
Next on the mic is the one and only Search Engine Optimized Poet…the only rhyme-smith whose beats bring in the web searchers’ feets, ya dig?
Pepsi! Whoa, Pepsi!
You are what I drink when Coke is not available.
When the waitress asks, “Is Pepsi OK?”
I want to say, “No, it is not! Your argument is assailable!”
But that would be fail-able. Who am I to ask,
A minimum wage slave to go to a store for Coke? What a difficult task!
Bask, in Kendall Jenner’s glow.
As she hocks syrupy goo to protestors to and fro.
No! I do not care about your cause!
For Coke is the drink that I really want in my paws.
Pepsi is the drink that will only sort of do.
Kind of like how you’ll take someone below average,
Even though a supermodel is who you really wanted to screw.
Subdue! My mind from such terrible frustration.
I must deliver apologies across the entire nation.
For I am being truly crass and even a little bloated, yes it’s true!
I drank too much Pepsi at the super woke protest,
And now I feel like I need to spew.
Zom Fu is in the Home Stretch
Hey 3.5 readers.
Dragonhand is dead! Again! Huzzah!
So now its just a matter of wrapping it all up. That will still take awhile, but there’s light at the end of the tunnel. I may be on my way to finishing another novel draft.
Thank you to the 3.5 of you who have been reading.
Review of Homeland Season 6 (Spoilers!)
Ominous jazz music…ominous jazz music…
BQB here with a review of Homeland Season 6.
FYI this is a review for people who have seen it. If you haven’t seen it, don’t read below.
So honestly, for most of this season, I wanted to hate it. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why. In theory, the whole idea of various elements of the government conspiring to carry out a coup on the president is not only possible but maybe even more possible than usual, given that the left and right sides of the political aisle are more at each others’ throats than ever before in our country’s history.
However, this particular plot just seemed far fetched. Also, I thought it had been made clear that Quinn died at the end of Season 5. The choice seemed like a bold move. Getting rid of a favorite character to prove a point of the show, namely, that intelligence officers like Carrie are often called upon to do shitty things in the name of keeping America safe, i.e. waking up Quinn out of his coma too early and putting his body at risk.
But they brought him back and the way that Quinn was portrayed just made me sad. Even so, he has his John Wayne moment of heroism at the end but still, I thought he had it in Season 5.
They also moved the character of Dar Adal from quasi-evil to super evil. That seemed like a dumb move to me. Dar had always been the CIA boogeyman, the one who was willing to do bad things in the name of good, thus another illustration of the show’s main point – that intelligence work often means doing bad in the name of good.
Further, the whole Brett O’Keefe (Alex Jones parody character) subplot where a boiler room had been created with all sorts of computer technicians generating massive amounts of phony online criticism against the president-elect seemed far fetched and silly although technically, yeah, fake things happen on social media all the time. Hell, I wish I had my own computer tech boiler room to drive traffic to my website.
Anyway, I wanted to hate the show but the season finale episode really tied the whole thing together and has left me interested in watching season 7 so, brave Homeland, bravo. You draw me in yet again.
What say you, 3.5 readers?
Conspiracy Corner with Tin Hat Ted – My First Column
By: Tin Hat Ted, Official Bookshelf Battle Blog Conspiracy Theorist
Good day, 3.5 readers. Tin Hat Ted here. I’d like to thank Bookshelf Q. Battler for allowing me the opportunity to share my conspiracy theories on his blog. While I am convinced that BQB is a high ranking official in the lizard people army and his blog is but a mere rouse designed to brainwash 3.5 humans into the ways of the lizard, I’ve got to get my start somewhere and it’s not like any other blogs are answering my many, many, many calls.
First, a little bit about me. I was but a humble waiter when I first began hearing the alien voices in my head. You don’t hear them because the average human mind can’t comprehend them, but rest assured those voices are there, telling you to do things you don’t really want to do all day long. That’s why you eat fast food, buy expensive products you don’t need and watch TV shows that are utter garbage. The aliens are trying to make you fat, stupid and poor so you’ll offer little resistance when their drop ships arrive full of shock troops.
That’s why I wear this very fashionable tin hat. It keeps the aliens from implanting subliminal messages into my mind. It also keeps them from reading my mind. There are many nuggets of information I don’t want the aliens to have, let me tell you.
In fact, I will tell you. Here are my latest conspiracy theories. Just keep this all on the down low because if the various forces behind the scenes ever found out that any of this went public, they’d blow a gasket. Good thing this blog is only read by 3.5 readers.
Conspiracy Theory #1 – J. Edgar Hoover is Alive and is a Woman
Former FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover is alive and well, having had his brain implanted into the brain of a female test subject, thus killing two proverbial birds with one stone, namely, achieving the director’s ambition to live into perpetuity and to become a woman. At this time, I have no reason to believe that Hoover is working for or against the government, at least in any official capacity. My sources, comprised mostly of meth addicted truckers I hang out with at the local Waffle House, indicate that Hoover just wants his Hoover time. He wants to be left alone to enjoy his long dreamed of vagina, but will strike with the copious files full of dirty secrets he maintains if he is pressed.
Conspiracy Theory #2 – Newspapers are Written By Highly Intelligent Beavers
Print is dead. The only reason this industry is still alive is the hardworking North American beaver. By day, these buck toothed rodents build damns. By night, they write newspaper articles under assumed names. Don’t believe everything you read, by the way. The beavers bring their own pro-beaver bias to the news.
Conspiracy Theory #3 – Walt Disney Continues to Run Disney
While Walt Disney was cryogenically frozen, word has it that he is sentient enough to groan loud enough that it can be heard by the scientists monitoring his cryo-chamber. Walt gets final approval on every film Disney makes. Studio execs play the latest films inside a little TV in Walt’s chamber, and then he groans once for yes and twice for no. Witnesses report that Walt’s groans regarding the gay character in Beauty in the Beast were inconclusive, so they just rolled the dice.
Conspiracy Theory #4 – All Important People are Lizards
Most multi-millionaires, celebrities, politicians, business tycoons and other people of import are not people but rather, are lizard people wearing regular people masks. If you’re ever feeling down about not making it as far as you hoped you would in life, don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault you aren’t a lizard. The lizard people have their own network and if you aren’t in it, then the doors to success will never be unlocked for you.
I’m just confused as to why Bookshelf Q. Battler is a lizard person. After all, he’s not very successful.
Conspiracy Theory #5 – Candy Rots Your Teeth so Dentists Can Put Trackers in Your Fillings
There’s been a form of sugar that is actually good for your teeth but the government has kept it off supermarket shelves for decades. That’s because they want you to get cavities so they can put fillings in your teeth. Sure, those fillings plug up your tooth holes, but they also contain tiny homing beacons that can tell the government where you are and what you are putting your mouth on at all times.
A) Be careful what you put your mouth on if you don’t want to be blackmailed by the government and B) be like me and do all your own dental work. Oh, Bookshelf Q. Battler’s lawyer tells me to tell you to not do your own dental work but if you ask me, she’s probably part of the grand conspiracy.
CONCLUSION
Those are all the conspiracy theories I’m willing to share at this time, 3.5 readers. If you have any you’d like to share, leave them in the comments. Also, don’t forget to fashion a hat for yourself out of tin foil and wear it at all times.
Zom Fu – Chapter 60
Two jagged, golden swords adorned the walls of the Emperor’s throne room. Dragonhand and Junjie had each managed to get there hands on one and sparks were flying as metal clanged on metal.
“Why does the name ‘Longwei’ offend you so?” the Infallible Master asked.
Dragonhand swiped his sword just over Junjie’s head. “There is no Longwei! There is only Dragonhand!”
“I see,” the master said. “And it agonizes you to be called Longwei?”
Dragonhand stepped back, barely missing a strike from Junjie. “How many times must I tell you, you dense, obtuse old idiot? There is no Longwei! There is only Dragonhand!”
Clang, clang, clang! The swordplay continued.
“Then why is it that it offends you when I tell you that you were not my best student?” the master asked.
Junjie sailed through the air at his opponent, his foot straight out in a kick position. Dragonhand caught his adversary’s foot, twisted it, then flipped him to the ground. Junjie stood right up, sword at the ready.
“Because I was your best student!” Dragonhand shouted. “I was the pride of the Clan of the Sacred Yet Inscrutable Tiger Claw! I fought harder and better than everyone combined and yet you held me back at every turn.”
The master chuckled. “You mean I held Longwei back at every turn.”
Dragonhand turned his attention to the master. It was a fool movie, as Junjie was able to land an uppercut against the zombified warrior’s jaw. Dragonhand retaliated with a brutal kick that knocked Junjie into a nearby wall.
“What?” Dragonhand asked.
“I never trained a creature named Dragonhand,” the master said. “I trained a young man named Longwei. He was bright and bold. Skilled and knowledgeable to be certain, but more concerned with glory and applause than working with his clan as one part of a larger whole.”
Dragonhand appeared confused. He pointed at the master. “Enough of your tricks!”
Junjie pulled himself out of the rut his body had formed when he slammed into the wall. He ran at Dragonhand and the swords connected again.
“You are wrong that there is no Longwei,” the master said. “Longwei’s soul suffers torment in Diyu, the same torment we all will be forced to suffer when our time comes and we cross over. One day, sooner or later, the Yama Kings will judge that Longwei’s sins have been sufficiently punished and atoned for, and he will be free to live in Heaven for eternity.”
Clang, clang, clang! Junjie and Dragonhand locked eyes and stared at one another as they pressed hard against one another’s swords. They hoped in vain to budge the other, but neither fighter would be moved.
“Silence!” Dragonhand cried.
“You, on the other hand, are merely a creature of flesh and bone,” the master said. “There is no soul in you. There is nothing of import in you. Your mind operates based on a brain that doesn’t belong to you. You share Longwei’s thoughts. Clearly, you sometimes get confused and think you are him, but you aren’t. You are just a pile of sentient meat and when you are gone, there will be nothing left of you.”
Dragonhand dropped his sword. Junjie assumed this was the perfect moment to attack. He raised his blade and was about to bring it down on his opponent’s head when Dragonhand bashed his skull into Junjie’s, dropping the hero with a vicious head butt.
“I don’t recall that move ever being recorded in the annals of kung fu,” the master said.
“I do what it takes to win,” Dragonhand said.
“A trait you share with the former inhabitant of that body I’m afraid,” the master said. “But no, no. No need to remind me. You’re not Longwei. You are the mighty Dragonhand.”
Dragonhand’s face was bloody. His nose was broken. He picked up his sword and ran towards the old man. He rammed his sword into the apparition, slicing and dicing through the ghost but it was no use. He was, in essence, chopping up thin air.
“Does this make you feel better?” the master asked.
Dragonhand was enraged. “Raaaaaarrrgh!”
The fiend spotted Junjie. The hero was kneeling on the floor, with his face down, blood trickling out of it. Dragonhand went to the Dragon Throne and picked up the Staff of Ages.
“It’s time to finish this.”
Dragonhand walked toward Junjie. He raised the staff over his head. Lighting cracked through the ceiling and into the staff. Thunder clapped.
“You will watch your student die now, old man!”
“It will be a pity to lose my best student,” the master said nonchalantly.
Another bolt of lightning struck the staff. More thunder.
“I was your best student,” Dragonhand said.
“Again,” the master said. “Longwei was my student. I don’t know you, strange creature.”
Dragonhand pointed the staff at the ghost. The ruby glowed bright purple. “Not another word.”
The master nodded. “As you wish, stranger.”
But the master wasn’t done talking. As far as Dragonhand knew, the old man was silent. However, his words flowed through Junjie’s mind. “I doubt your parents spent long in Diyu. They are in Heaven now, looking down upon you. Will you make them proud?”
Junjie’s head remained down. In the turmoil, he’d dropped his sword. It rested on the ground, several feet away. His right hand trembled.
A third bolt of lightning hit the staff. Thunder clapped again. Dragonhand turned the staff at Junjie. With all his might, Junjie struggled to turn his right hand into a tiger claw.
“Now you will know the power of zom fu!” Dragonhand shouted. “Now all of China will cower before…”
Before Dragonhand could say his own name, Junjie crammed his tiger claw into the creature’s skull and pulled out a goopy, gloppy, still-pulsating brain.
Like a chicken with its head cut off, Dragonhand’s body stumbled. His feet took him a few steps forward, then a few steps backward. The entire top half of his head was gone. Only the part from his mouth on down remained.
“All,” Dragonhand said with a strained voice. “All of China will…will…they will all cower before…”
The fiend’s body hit the floor. His mouth had one last word to say. “…Dragonhand.”
Junjie looked at the brain in his hand. It glistened and glowed in the moonlight that poured in through the thunderbolt made holes in the ceiling.
The Infallible Master stepped over to his protege. “I never doubted you.”
“You didn’t?” Junjie asked.
The master shook his head. “Perhaps there was a modicum of doubt. A slight, insignificant amount of doubt. Overall, I was fairly certain that this ordeal would end with Dragonhand’s carcass on the floor and his brain in your hand.”
“You were only fairly certain?” Junjie asked.
“Let’s not ruin the moment, my son,” the master replied.
Junjie stared at the gray matter in his hand. “Every brain I have ever seen has repulsed me. They normally make me sick to my stomach but this one…this one…”
“Intrigues you?” the master asked.
“Yes,” Junjie said. “I crave it. I’m hungry for it. It’s all I can do to keep myself from biting it.”
The master nodded. “Perhaps it different from other brains.”
“How so?” Junjie asked.
“Perhaps it contains knowledge that you have yearned for your entire life,” the master said.
Junjie licked his lips, then looked away from the brain. “No. I could never. I don’t want to end up like him.”
“You will never end up like Dragonhand,” the master said. “You are too pure of heart to become a brain addict. Of that, I am certain.”
“You keep saying that brain eating will never turn me into one of the undead,” Junjie said. “But honestly, how certain of that are you really?”
The master shook his head. “Fairly certain.”
Junjie rolled his eyes.
“I’ve been alive for a thousand years, my son,” the master said. “Trust me. ‘Fairly certain’ is the best anyone ever gets.”
Junjie continued to stare at the brain.
“Make a choice,” the master said. “Bite it or destroy it, but either way, let’s get on with it.”
“Well,” Junjie said as he brought the brain up to his lips. “Here goes nothing.”
Toilet Gator – Chapter 9
Sitwell, Florida
11:00 p.m.
Chief Cole Walker sat behind the wheel of his broken down, bucket of bolts cruiser, stationed in a well-known yet effective speed trap behind a billboard off of Route 199. Up on the billboard, there was an image of a grimy looking slime ball with a white cowboy hat and matching white suit. He was surrounded by cars and held up two fist filled with cash.
The message on the sign? “Beaumont Dufresne’s Used Car Emporium – Prices so low he’s practically handing you cash!”
Seated in the passenger seat was Walker’s trusty right hand man, Russell “Rusty” Yates. Both men were roughly the same age. Cole looked like he might have been a handsome ladies’ man in his youth but time had since had its way with him. While his body remained in good shape, his face was weathered. His black hair had patches of gray around the temples. In short, he always looked like he needed a nap.
Rusty, on the other hand, had a boyish face, so much so that he had the appearance of a giant kid. He had two bucky front teeth. They didn’t protrude so much out of his mouth that he was able to open up a beer bottle with his choppers, but they did poke out ever so slightly, even when his lips were closed. His hair was red. Shockingly, blindingly red. His locks had withstood the test of time, as a single gray hair had yet to infect his scalp.
The duo had been working together for two decades and in that time, they had their rituals. Well, Rusty had his rituals. Cole usually just grunted and nodded. Occasionally he’d offer a thoughtful response if he was in a good mood, which wasn’t often.
Reading the newspaper out loud was one of Rusty’s rituals. “President Stugotz Mulls Whether or Not to Send U.S. Troops into “NoOneCanPronounceThisCountry’sShittyName-istan.”
Rusty took a sip of his coffee. “Good golly, it’s about time, don’t you think, Cole?”
Cole sat and blankly stared at the highway. He offered no response.
“I say, Cole, what do you think?”
“Huh?” Cole asked.
“Stugotz might be sending the Army into NoOneCanPronounceThisCountry’sShittyName-istan,” Rusty said. “It’s a good idea, don’t you think?”
Cole rolled his eyes and emitted a thirty second long sigh, the kind that Rusty had grown used to over the years. It was clearly meant as a warning that Cole was angry that he was had already expelled the minimum mental energy required to recognize Rusty’s existence and now he was downright irate that he was being pressed to engage in an actual conversation.
“I don’t know,” Cole said.
“All these people dying,” Rusty said. “Getting machetes up their taints and rocket propelled grenades up their butts. It’s all a crime against humanity if you ask me.”
A few moments passed before Cole finally offered. “Did anyone ask you?”
“No,” Rusty said. “But innocent people are dying and America can’t proclaim itself as a beacon for justice if we all sit back and do nothing.”
Cole popped a cigarette into his mouth and let it dangle from his lips as he mustered up a response. “Who says we have to do anything?”
Rusty shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. Nobody.”
“Then why get involved?” Cole asked.
“Because it’s the right thing to do,” Rusty replied.
“And who says that?” Cole asked.
“I don’t know,” Rusty said. “President Stugotz. Senators and Congressmen.”
Cole flicked his cigarette light, lit up, and puffed away. Within seconds, the car was filled with a smokey stench.
“Right,” Cole said. “All the people who aren’t going to pick up a gun and travel thousands of miles to some place they’ve never been to before, a place they know nothing about, just to shoot at people who want to shove a machete up their taints or an RPG up their asses.”
Rusty coughed dramatically and waved the smoke away from his face with his hand. “Will you put that out?”
“Oh, shut up, Russ,” Cole said. “Don’t give me your sanctimonious health kick bullshit. That coffee you’re sucking down is just as bad for as you as this cigarette is for me.”
“Yeah,” Rusty said. “But at least I’m not forcing you down and pouring my coffee down your gullet, whereas you’re making me smoke that thing with you every time you blow your second hand smoke around my airspace.”
Cole shook his head and rolled his window down. He took another puff, then blew his smoke out the window. He then held his hand outside, leaving the cigarette to chug smoke into the night air.
“There,” Cole said. “That better, you crybaby?”
“Much,” Rusty said. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” Cole replied in a sarcastic tone, denoting that he felt Rusty’s request was, in fact, very much a problem.
“It’s just about being considerate is all,” Rusty said.
“I’m not considerate?” Cole asked.
Rusty had seen Cole’s temper flare up before and didn’t want to cause it to do again. He chose his words carefully. “You seem to be lost in your head most of the time. I’m sure you don’t do it on purpose.”
“Whatever,” Cole said.
“You got to care about other people, Cole,” Rusty said. “Whether it’s your partner in a police cruiser or innocent civilians on the other side of the world getting machetes in their taints and RPGs up their butts.”
Cole looked at Rusty incredulously. “Maybe I do care about people. Maybe I’m just caring about the people that you aren’t caring about. Did that possibility ever make its way into your soul-less ginger skull?”
Rusty turned the page of his paper. “You know, if you’re going to start name calling, let’s just forget it.”
“No,” Cole said. “You started it, so let’s finish it. Maybe I do care about those innocent people who are getting taints and RPGs up their butts. But maybe I also care some dipshit kid from Podunk, Kentucky who signed up for the Army because he couldn’t find a job anywhere and he’s going to shipped off to some hellhole to fight for people who will resent the shit out of him for being there. If he doesn’t get his taint hacked with a machete or his ass blown up by an RPG within the first three days of his tour of duty, then he’ll have to come to grips with the fact that his mission there is destined to fail for, as we all know, all the limelight sucking politicians will blow each other with compliments and praise for as long as the war is going well, but they’ll finger point and play the blame game the second shit goes south. The war will always go south, because that’s what happens in war, and when that kid needs a new flak jacket, or a new gun, or God forbid, more soldiers to back him up, the same assholes who sent him there in the first place will deny him all the assistance he needs to win in a desperate effort to save their political careers as well as their ability to suckle off of the government teet for the rest of their lives, so don’t give me that shit about me not caring about all the innocent civilians in NoOneCanPronounceThisShittyCountry’sName-istan. That’s a shitty place. It’s always been a shitty place. It will always be a shitty place. There’s never been a time when people haven’t been dying there and there will never be a time when people won’t be dying there. Sending Americans to die there will not solve the problem one iota.”
Rusty studied his newspaper. “Sorry Cole, I’ve already moved on to the funny pages. Oh Garfield, I’m with you about Mondays. They sure do suck. Preach on, my furry orange brother.”
“Yeah,” Cole said as he stuck his head out the window to puff on his cigarette. “The moral of the story, whether its war or a heated political discussion, is don’t start it if you don’t want to finish it.”
The minutes passed. Cole smoked. Rusty read and drank his coffee.
Zoom! A cherry red Ferrari blasted down the highway at warp speed, veering back and forth over the center line. Cole squinted just in time to spot a tell-tale white cowboy hat poking up over the driver’s seat.
“Son of a bitch,” Cole said as he flicked his butt out the window and pulled out into traffic. He turned on his lights and siren and began a pursuit.
“You think its smart to start something with our illustrious mayor, Cole?” Rusty asked.
“Why not?” Cole asked.
Rusty flashed his partner a wry grin. “Because you and I know both know you won’t finish it.
Toilet Gator – Part 1 – The Crimes
Throughout Florida, people are dying…on the can. They drop their pants, do their dirty business and end up splattered all over the walls.
A pop star, an old man and a perpetual college student are the three victims thus far.
Plucky Network News One affiliate reporter Natalie Brock and her bumbling cameraman Walt are the first on the scene when Countess Cucamonga’s life is cut tragically short. Alas, Natalie’s looks are average and Network News One prefers hot ass blonde chicks with big titties to report the news. In fact, that’s their motto.
Will Natalie overcome her cameraman’s incompetence and the network’s sexism in order to follow this story to a conclusion? Or will a Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties take over?
From the Desk of Bookshelf Q. Battler
Network News One Transcript #1
Eight Weeks of Toilet Gator Sundays
Destined to become an Academy Award winning picture:
Movie Review – The Smurfs: The Lost Village
La la la la la la…it’s a big ole stinkfest.
BQB here with a review of The Smurfs: The Lost Village.
3.5 readers, perhaps you might recall in the past decade that Neil Patrick Harris teamed up with the Smurfs to make two films in which the little blue people crossed over into the human world. They were silly and fun though the scenes of the beautiful Smurf village left me wondering why the studio didn’t just forgo NPH all together and just make an adventure where the Smurfs strike out on their own sans humans.
I still believe there’s a story out there about the Smurfs in Smurf world that could dazzle an audience on the big screen. While this film is OK…this isn’t it.
When Gargamel (Rainn Wilson) and a group of Smurfs comprised of Smurfette (Demi Lovato), Brainy (Danny Pudi), Hefty (Joe Manganiello), and Clumsy (Jack McBryer) learn of the existence of a lost Smurf village, it’s a race to see who can locate the never before seen Smurfs first. The Smurfs want to save their comrades in blue whereas Gargamel, as usual, wants to harvest them to enhance his magic.
I was too harsh up above where I said it is a stinkfest. It isn’t. It’s a perfectly lovely film to sit your kids down in front of. Perhaps selfishly, I noticed that it lacks what a lot of the great cartoons have, namely jokes that reach out to the adults in the room while going over the kids’ heads, just to say, “Hey, we know you had to bring a kid to this, so we’re going to give you a little reward to thank you for coming so you won’t be bored out of your mind.”
Mandy Patinkin voices Gargamel and while he’s a suitable famous old person for the role, as a fan of Homeland, I just expected jazz music to start playing ominously in the background while Smurfette morphs into Carrie and starts mixing wine with pills and crying over Brodie while Papa Smurf Saul starts yelling at her to snap out of it and focus on finding the terrorists for the good of her country.
Meanwhile, there’s a feminist subplot for Smurfette. All of the boy Smurfs have a name that matches who they are or what they are good at. Baker Smurf, Vanity Smurf, Farmer Smurf and so on. Smurfette’s name just means “girl smurf” and she thinks that’s unfair. She wants to find out what she’s good at and get a name that reflects it because she’s more than just a female smurf.
SPOILER ALERT: the film addresses that eventually, but you know, not to the point where Smurfette gets a name change to reflect that she’s more than just a girl smurf. You know some Hollywood suit ran into that writer’s room and was all like, “We are NOT changing the name of a character/kids’ toy that’s been marketed as Smurfette for umpteen million years, jerk wads, so deal with it!”
And to me, that’s fine. I’m glad Smurfette finds here groove, but I’d be sad at this point if they changed her name.
DOUBLE SPOILER ALERT: As you know if you’re a fan, Smurfette was made when Gargamel molded a lump of clay into the form of a Smurf. She was supposed to be his spy, but she became good and loved her smurfy friends. At the end, and again, look away if you don’t want to know the end, Smurfette gets turned back into that lump of clay. The incredibly sad smurfs haul this clay lump that looks like a big blue turd back to Smurf Village and cry and bawl all over it until it becomes Smurfette again. I just wish someone in the studio had the guts to raise their hand and say, “We need to rewrite this. This lump of clay looks like a big blue poop.”
STATUS: Shelf-worthy. A good kids’ film. However, I do believe that the Smurfs franchise has the power to create a movie that becomes an instant classic that stands the test of time, beloved by generations to come. This film isn’t it and while adorable, funny, and even action packed at times, it’s quickly forgettable. Kids will love it and I suppose that is the point in the end.
Bookshelf Battle 