For when “dislike” just doesn’t cut it…











{December 2, 2009}   Nerd Girl Dreams (song parody)

This is not a hate post – far from it. It combines two of my loves: bad pop music from my tween years and geek culture.

It’s a parody I wrote of O-Town’s Liquid Dreams, a song upon which we all look back and cringe. However, it’s perfect for tribuarody (tribute/parody, a term originated by my IRL nerd girl dream man Kevin over at The Redding Mineshaft).

As the song was released in 2001, there’s no karaoke version on YouTube, but here’s the song so you can sing along (I’ve spared you the dancing in the original video – you’re welcome)

Nerd Girl Dreams by Allegra

Posters of space surrounding me, of home worlds and sci-fi and fantasy
Every night he visits me and reduces me to squee.

Now this hot nerd, he’s not your average nerd
He’s a neuromantic dream hopped up on caffeine
And he’s so fine designed to pwn your mind
He’s a fighter pilot millionaire and sex machine

I dream about a man who’s a mix of Harrison Ford
Just a little touch of the tenth Time Lord
Wielding the Master Sword, throw in a Body Electric
And you’ve got the star of my nerd girl dreams

Castiel’s angel lips to kiss in the dark
Underneath Draco Malfoy’s dark mark
When it comes to the fight Scott Pilgrim’s got might
And I’ve got Neo to show me the light.

Now this hot nerd, he’s not your average nerd
He’s a counter-cultured being from the comic scene
And he’s so fine designed to pwn your mind
He’s a fighter pilot millionaire and sex machine

I dream about a guy who’s a mix of Bret and Jemaine
A little more Mal and a little less Jayne
Channeling young Bruce Wayne, throw in a body like Gambit’s
And you’ve got the star of my nerd girl dreams

Looks ain’t everything he’s gotta have a way off the colony
Like Major Lee (Major Lee!)
My mama doesn’t mind it, she knows that I’ve been blinded
By tractor beams – I’m pulled up every time I dream
My
Nerd girl dreams, my nerd girl dreams
Fan girl screams in these nerd girl dreams

I dream about a man who’s a mix of Harrison Ford
Just a little touch of the tenth Time Lord
Wielding the Master Sword, throw in a Body Electric
And you’ve got the star of my nerd girl dreams

I dream about a guy who’s a mix of Bret and Jemaine
A little more Mal and a little less Jayne
Channeling young Bruce Wayne, throw in a body like Gambit’s
And you’ve got the star of my nerd girl dreams…

I tried to include a little bit of everything. Major Lee refers of course to Lee Adama of Battlestar Galactica, my current geeky obsession. I was tempted to write a whole Allegra Hates post on Gaius Baltar, but his character flaws have been thoroughly explored by other nerds who weren’t late to the BSG party (I can’t believe I watched 4.5 seasons of a show when I was constantly distracted by an urge to punch a main character!)



{January 9, 2009}   Juno

Okay. This post has been a long time coming. In fact, when I started this blog it was mostly to encourage myself to finally put my hate-on for this badly-written, poorly-acted mess of a “film” into proper words. Until now I mostly just grind my teeth and sigh loudly whenever someone starts wanking about Juno, Diablo Cody or Ellen “Fivehead” Page (or as I sometimes refer to her, The Enemy). My floormates are all right now watching it, and they were all ~OMG TOTES SHOCKED LYKE WHOA~ that someone could dislike a movie as “cute” and “quirky” and… uh… other adjectives that are commonly used… as Juno. Hence, I left the common room, eyes rolling and head shaking.

This is NOT a response to the film’s popularity. I saw the film with my good friend Maddie before Christmas of 2007 (therefore before the movie got wide release). She will testify that I didn’t laugh. I walked out of it thinking, “wait… she learned NOTHING from any of it!” and I’m sure I’m not the only one who got physically nauseous at the non-sequitur ending where they butcher a song that no 16-year-old couple would know.

I thought, “there’s no WAY that this is gonna become popular.” And yet…

I’m also trying to make this about the movie, and not about my dislike for the people involved in the movie (Saint Ellen; Michael “SHOULD NOT HAVE BEEN CAST AS SCOTT PILGRIM” Cera [trust me, that post is coming soon]; Diablo “Used to be a stripper, probably should have stayed one” Cody; Korean Pro-Life Stereotype Girl…). But that’s gonna fail. Cheap shots are going to be taken.

Problem #1) I hate movies in which bad people make bad choices and don’t have to face the consequences. Fox Searchlight (the production company) makes SO MANY movies with that theme (See: Little Miss Sunshine, Garden State, Confetti, Thirteen)

Juno makes a stupid mistake that SHOULD ruin her life (or at least seriously make her re-evaluate her priorities). She constantly gets out of things with minimal possible effort – she found foster parents in the Penny-Saver. There was no research done on her part and she expected to be all, “Hey. Have a kid. Don’t name it something dumb.” Her family didn’t punish her or even explain to her WHY TEEN PREGNANCY IS NOT SOMETHING YOU CAN TAKE IN STRIDE. When she found out, her first reaction was to hang herself. With licorice.

When Michael Bluth and Sydney Bristow start having problems, Juno made them worse by going DIRECTLY against all the advice she was given. She never realizes it.

She tells Paulie to date other people, then gets super-possessive when he thinks of asking out the girl who smells like soup (which was stolen from Strongbad or, going even farther back, “So I Married An Axe Murderer?”.)

And all this time she thinks she has a right to be sassy and judgmental towards everyone else? Ugh girl needs to be slapped.

Problem #2) The dialogue

Has there ever been another movie with a vernacular that so wormed its way into the minds of EVERYONE*? There are like 50 Facebook groups called “I wAnNa TaLk LyKe JuNo ItS sOoOoO cLeVaR.” 

Firstly, the dialogue SOUNDS written. This is more the fault of the screenplay than the actors, but don’t tell anyone I’m cutting Kitty Pryde some slack. However, delivering the dialogue completely monotone and deadpan makes it sound like she’s reading the script for the first time. Always. No Oscar for you.

Also, clever lives are given to every single character. I could understand MAYBE if Juno was the only one, because MAYBE we could believe that she does nothing but think of Last Comic Standing-rejected wordplay. Unfortunately, EVERYONE** gets a stab at the lowest common denominator euphemisms. That famous scene where Rainn Wilson tells her she’s preggers without using any real words is a great example. Their exchange makes Gilmore Girls’ banter seem well thought out. Her friend Leah is just as bad (“Phuket, Thailand?” Really?!) and even Jason Bateman is not exempt (though his best line, “Technically, that would be kicking it Old Testament,” was DIRECTLY stolen from VERONICA MARS, who is much smarter, sassier, prettier, stronger, a better role model etc.)

Also, this has been stated SO MANY TIMES by smart people but OH MY GOD MORGAN FREEMAN WAS NOT IN THE BONE COLLECTOR. IT WAS DENZEL WASHINGTON. I KNOW YOUR PROVINCE DOESN’T HAVE THE BEST TRACK RECORD AS FAR AS BLACK PEOPLE GO, BUT SHIT. She could at least get her references right. They could have easily redeemed ALL the bad references by having someone in the movie call her on them.

As my friend Sofi put it,

“Thunderbirds = Go.
Thundercats = Ho.
Juno = No.” 

Amen.

I absolutely can’t stand things that try to be quirky JUST for the sake of being quirky. I hate false non-conformity. 

Problem #3) Ellen Page

UGH. Bitch needs to get a new schtick. If I have to see or hear about her losing her virginity (which comes up much more often than you’d think, but that could just be the people I know) one more time while having the act betray her somehow (see: An American Crime, Mouth to Mouth, The Tracey Fragments)… 

I guess what I’m saying is that I don’t like her and I don’t get the big deal. There are three or four dozen girls from my high school who have just as much character and can out-act and out-shine her. Oh, and the is-she-or-isn’t-she-a-lesbian thing? She’s playing it up on purpose because no one is telling her to shit or get off the pot. 

Juno fandom is one of the few things I actively hold against people, because I just don’t understand the obsession. I really did try to give it a fair, open-minded chance, but the negative and stupid parts outweighed what probably could have been a quirky love story. 

* I needed to redeem this post somehow
** Srsly, I needed to do it twice to counterbalance.



This just doesn’t make sense to me.

Say what you want about it being more interesting (and to that I simply reply that you’re not trying hard enough)… why become SO invested in something over which you have absolutely no control?

I’m not by any means saying that you shouldn’t care about world issues… but if you’re a Canadian citizen, you can’t vote for Obama or McCain. You can, however, get off your media-influenced ass and make a choice that will actually affect you directly.

The voter turnout on Tuesday was the lowest it has ever been (only 59%). I’m disgusted. If you don’t have confidence in any of the parties, you can spoil your vote. That makes much more of a point than not showing up.

Everyone is so quick to bash the current US administration (come on – what Canadian – or American, for that matter – DOESN’T?) yet over 40% of us wouldn’t walk down the street to vote for or against our own right-wing, war-mongering leader of men. Your voice certainly doesn’t effing count if you don’t cast it.

A guy on my floor says we should do what they do in Australia. It is against the law not to vote in Australia, and failing to do so (without good excuse) results in a fine and possibly even jailtime. They do, however, have a box at the bottom of the ballot that allows the voter to not vote for any of the parties (and therefore telling all the parties straight up that they could have voted for them but didn’t). 

When I try to discuss politics with my acquaintances, they INSIST on discussing Palin and Biden and Obama. Educated Canadian men can’t name the leader of the official opposition but they’re sure familiar with John McCain’s extensive war injuries.

THIS IS YOUR OWN COUNTRY. THESE POLITICIANS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE YOUR VOICE. WHY SILENCE YOURSELF IN A CROWDED ROOM ONLY TO YELL LATER ON WHEN YOUR OPINION ISN’T HEARD?

It’s illogical, and we all need to become more aware of the advantages and flaws of our own electoral system.



The title says it all, doesn’t it? There are a group of boys on my dorm floor who have woken me up between 2:00 and 4:00 in the morning every day laughing like drunken sociopaths (oh, wait). I could accept this as one of the downsides to not living at home during university had it happened once on a Saturday night, but I was kept awake for four nights in a row. It’s a lot more annoying than it sounds.

Night 1: Fire alarm. Simple enough. They pulled it knowing that one of their buddies was getting some, and that both he and the girl would have to scramble to get dressed. Unfortunately, I wasn’t dressed to deal with a Canadian October night either. I didn’t fall back to sleep once we were allowed back in.

Night 2: Another drunken night for these charming lads, they ask the naive boy from Hong Kong to “pet the squirrel.” Having never seen a skunk before, he didn’t know the difference. The poor boy was sprayed, and the others brought him back up to our floor and paraded him around, yelling and laughing raucously. I woke up thinking, “What the Mitch smells like burning eraser?” The skunk funk was so bad that I was awake, nauseous and angry, for the rest of the night.

Night 3: Possibly my “favourite” of the pranks, the four boys take turns peeing in an empty recycling bin. At 3:00 am, they knock on a different guy’s door and empty the bin onto him. The whole bin of urine soaked him and his carpet… and the hallway’s carpet… everyone knows that urine is the WORST smell to try to get out of upholstery or clothing. Well, except skunk. Together they’re a lethal combination. Anyway, I wake up to “I AM GOING TO F***ING KILL ALL OF YOU. WHAT THE F***?!” as well as cries of pure disgust. It was at this point I called the Don, who – of course – did nothing. No more sleep for me.

 

I approached the boys the next day, looking like ass (and, admittedly, playing up my I’m-gonna-cry-out-of-exhaustion face) and said, “Guys, seriously. I have 8:30 am classes. Can you please pull your pranks earlier so that I can get some sleep? I’m so tired. I’m not saying that you can’t be asses to each other, just realize that I’m right next door and I have to be up early. Please.” They must think I’m pretty okay, or else they pitied me, because they didn’t make fun of me. They agreed, and I was tired enough to think they’d stop.

I’m an IDIOT when I’m tired.

Night 4: When I heard rambunctious conversation begin to get louder, I stepped out of my room wearing pyjamas and holding my toothbrush. My hair was in braids and on my feet were slippers. I yawned as I walked past. It could not have been more obvious that I was preparing to sleep – at 10:00. One guy asked me if they were being too loud, and I said that they were fine as long as they didn’t get louder. I thought they’d redeemed themselves, but really they just hadn’t started drinking yet. After a few Molsons, they started discussing – very loudly – how they deal with girls who aren’t good at handjobs. Offensive? Maybe. Inappropriate? Sure. Nauseating? Most certainly. My head clutched between my two pillows, I could still hear every awful comment and every subsequent high-five. 

I emerged from my bed, and they laughed and called me over, eager to share the rest of the conversation with me. AM I THAT MUCH OF A DUDE?! It was at this point that I practically begged them to hang out in another hallway. I don’t know if they did, because I actually did fall asleep out of exhaustion as soon as I got back to my room. I had an 8:30 class so I only got a few hours of rest, but it was more than what I’d been getting.

 

I stayed at The Boy’s house the next night. He was my hero for being quiet and for letting me sleep past noon for the first time since I moved out.



et cetera