Showing posts with label poonhound. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poonhound. Show all posts

Friday, December 23, 2016

Miracle (or Nightmare??) on 34th Street

A Discussion of Miracle on 34th Street 

Between Prof Thug & Stoned Willy Poonhound


Prof Thug: Hey everybody, welcome to the first Discussion between Prof Thug and Stoned Willy Poonhound. Since it 'tis the season and all, we figured we'd take a look at the greatest "classic" Christmas movie ever, Miracle on 34th Street.

The original 1947 film has everything a good Christmas movie needs: Santa Claus, a memorable setting, children imparting wisdom on adults, anti-commercialism, characters with infallible hope, discussions about imagination vs. reality, and redemption for the hero.

As a self-described film buff, I love the film for technical reasons, too. Old films have such a unique feel. It's fascinating to watch them and see the styles and fashions of the day, as well as the technical capabilities of the era (this film has a black and white version and a technicolor version!). Even the style of acting, the pacing, it's all very--

Stoned Willy Poonhound: NERRRRRRD!

PT: Oh, hey Willy. Stoned Willy Poonhound everybody. Welcome to the discussion. Jerk.

SWP: Waaaaaaatuuuupppp.

PT: Let's get to it. Not only is Miracle on 34th Street much better than most so called "classic" Christmas movies, it's also much deeper. It's an examination of society as a whole. It explores what happens when a truly good person tries to do the right thing. He's questioned as crazy, locked up, and put on trial. 

SWP: Dude is crazy!

PT: Relax. We'll get there. But to be clear, I disagree with that assessment. 

SWP: Of course ya do.

PT: The film opens with a guy who looks like Santa in regular clothes and goes by the name of Kris Kringle. He's in the middle of New York City during the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. Kringle runs into the guy who's supposed to play Santa in the parade, and he's drunk. That's unacceptable to Kringle (and anybody with morals) so Kringle complains to Doris, the event director. She persuades Kringle to play Santa. He owns the role so hard he's hired to play Santa at the biggest venue in the world: Macy's on 34th Street.

He's every single thing you want Santa to be: friendly, cheerful, helpful, wise. 

SWP: And delusional! Dude really thinks he's a fictional character! He calls himself Kris fuckin Kringle, n he's serious bout it! That lady Doris asks him to quit playin n tell her daughter Susan he's not really Santa, n he refuses! She jus went thru a rough divorce n she's tryin to teach her daughter ta avoid fantasies n honestly confront tha realities a life, n this asshole's like, "fuck that, embrace those fantasies girl!"

PT: Stop. You and I both know the mother is being overly restrictive on Susan's imagination and destroying her faith in humanity. When Susan goes to Macy's, Kringle's interactions with the other children restore that faith and sense of wonder. He speaks perfect Dutch to a scared little girl who didn't understand English. The girl was just recently adopted and brought to this country and he's the only one who comforted her. There's some magic there. He can call himself Topo Gigio for all I care. 

SWP: Kris Kringle. More like Kreepy Kringle tha Killer K--sumthin. Wutever. Nice Santa Clause refrence, tho. Gimme Santa Clause over this shit any day. 

PT: The Santa Clause dealt with similar themes! The idea of a real Santa Claus living among regular society and society's reaction to him. But that had a regular guy turning into Santa. And it came first, of course, so it-

SWP: Ok ok, back to 34th Street.

PT: Right. So when Kringle is at Macy's, just killing it as Santa, he tells a shopper that another store has an item she can't find at Macy's. The lady tells Julian, the head of the toy department, that she'll shop at Macy's forever now.

SWP: Except for that particular item, apparently.

PT: Kringle later tells another customer about some sweet ice skates that she can find at Macy's archrival Gimbels. Doris thinks this behavior is "crazy." He's too generous, too nice. And he keeps calling himself Kris Kringle. She fires him.

SWP: She should be applauded n promoted.

PT: Yeah, well, his "crazy" tactics actually help the store! He's generated so much positive publicity that Mr. Macy himself promises to give Doris and Julian bonuses for finding their new Santa. Then, just to satisfy Doris's misgivings, Julian makes Kringle take a psychological evaluation. He passes easily, and then starts messing with the doctor's head by questioning the doctor's own mental health.

SWP: Gaslightin him. Typical sociopath behavior.

PT: He's just smarter than the guy. So now the store expands Kringle's referral concept. Macy's becomes the store that cares most about their customers. To avoid looking greedy, Gimbels implements the same policy throughout their entire chain. Eventually, Kringle unites the bitter rivals Mr. Macy and Mr. Gimbel. He's a modern day saint! And his "crazy" ideas actually helped the businesses and regular every day citizens. We should embrace him, not reject him!

SWP: Wutever. I think he's got ulterior motives...

PT: Of course you do. Anyways, Kringle becomes friends with Doris and Susan. He becomes quick friends with her neighbor Fred as well. Fred and Kringle make a deal with each other to try to make Susan and Doris less cynical Kringle will work on Susan and Fred will work on Doris.

SWP: "Work on." Yeah. What tha hell is an old man hangin round this little girl for?

PT: He's Santa!

SWP: Come on, man. So any perv can just claim to be Santa n he's good to hang out wit little kids?

PT: You are seriously jaded.

Kringle has a talk with Susan about imagination. Susan believes it's demeaning and childish to pretend or to believe in fairy tales. She wants to be like adults. But Kringle says that's not always so smart. Imagination is an important part of life. He shows her how to pretend to be a monkey and she actually enjoys herself.

This is an important lesson, and the overall theme of the movie. Fred lays it out plainly for Doris: "Look Doris, someday you're going to find that your way of facing this realistic world just doesn't work. And when you do, don't overlook those lovely intangibles. You'll discover those are the only things that are worthwhile." Paradoxically, imagination can help us see the world for how it truly is. Kids see people for who they are and they see things for what they are; because of their imaginations, they can envision a better reality. That doesn't mean they don't understand reality.

SWP: Right, it means they're escapin reality. So live in a fantasy world? Thats yer advice? 

Me: You're a talking cartoon dog!

SWP: Dont try ta distract from tha point here. What tha hell is an old man doin alone wit a child in her bedroom?

PT: It was a different time.

SWP: Oh, tha Bill Cosby excuse.

PT: You're ridiculous. Not all old men are perverts. Obviously, her mother trusts Kringle enough for him to be there.

SWP: I guess. I mean, she was jus callin him crazy so...

PT: People change their minds when confronted with facts. Hopefully you'll be open to that.

SWP: Wutever.

PT: Ok, look. You know the Einstein quote, "The true sign of intelligence is not knowledge but imagination"? That's what Kringle is all about. It's like how Kringle's attitude and referrals are helping Macy's and Gimbels. He's showing that they can be creative and do things the right way while still being successful.

SWP: But what does he get for helpin out tha stores? He musta got some kinda bonus. 

PT: No, he gets treated like a crazy old man and called "maladjusted." Kringle learns that the psychiatrist convinced his friend (the young janitor, Alfred) that he is mentally ill, simply because he is a good person! When Kringle confronts the psychiatrist, he tells him that he has respect for psychiatry, but not for "quacks pushing lies." The man is dangerous, and Kringle knows there is only one way to deal with him: he smacks him on the head with his cane.

SWP: Man, never thought I'd see you deny science n defend violence!

PT: No no no. Kringle even says he "has respect for psychiatry." It's just that this psychiatrist is full of shit.

SWP: So he only respects it when it tells him what he wants to hear?

PT: No, this guy only thinks Kringle is crazy because Kringle is "unusually" generous. Plus, the guy exaggerates his pain from the blow to the head so he can ship Kringle off to Bellevue Hospital. What kind of doctor is that?! He's a buffoon!

SWP: He's jus lookin out fer everybody's safety in my opinion.

PT: You're entitled to that. You're wrong but you have a right to be wrong.

Kringle thinks Doris was in on the scheme to send him to Bellevue, so he purposely fails his mental exam when he gets there. He's dejected, defeated by society. But Fred persuades him not to give up.

SWP: Enabler. Always one around.

PT: More like a true friend. And it's a good thing he is around. Kringle gets his day in court, and Fred leaves his prestigious law firm to defend him. He tells Doris: "Faith is believing when common sense tells you not to. Don't you see? It's not just Kris that's on trial, it's everything he stands for. It's kindness and joy and love and all the other intangibles." That's what this is all about.

SWP: Fred lost his damn mind, too.

PT: At the hearing, the District Attorney gets Kringle to claim he is Santa Claus and rests his case, thinking it's a wrap.

SWP: It should be.

PT: The DA requests that the judge rule that Santa isn't real, but the judge's adviser explains the problem with that ruling: it would ruin his chances for reelection. The judge decides to hear evidence.

SWP: Think a tha children judge! But really, think a yer career!

PT: Well, yeah. Basically. So now it's Fred's job to prove that Kringle really is Santa Claus.

SWP: Cu-ckoo.

PT: Fred calls Mr. Macy as a witness. When the DA asks if he really believes Kringle is Santa, Macy looks unsure, then he starts thinking about all the negative press he would receive from calling his own Santa Claus a fraud. He considers all the positive press (and yes, business) that Kringle has brought to his store, and finally declares that he does believe it. Macy leaves the stand and immediately fires the quack psychiatrist.

SWP: Another good man loses his job because of Kringle. That's at least two now.

PT: Wait, you mean the drunk Santa at the beginning?

SWP: Yeah. Alcoholics need jobs too, pal.

PT: You're definitely reaching now. He was drunk on the job and...you know what? I'm moving on.

So now that Macy has testified that Kringle is Santa, Fred calls the DA's son to testify...

SWP: Dirty move.

PT: ...and the young boy says his father told him Santa was real. That's what you call a power play. The DA's own words used against him. 

SWP: It was a good move, no doubt. But now Fred's gotta prove this geezer's "the one and only" Santa Claus. And there's gotta be sum kinda authority behind tha claim, not just sum stupid kid.

PT: Very true. This is the main conflict of the story. Fred starts to panic a little.

Meanwhile, Susan now believes in Kringle and writes him a letter to cheer him up. She addresses the letter to the courthouse. When a postage worker sees the letter and the address, he suggests clearing out the thousands of letters to Santa in the dead letter office and sending them all to the courthouse.

SWP: Ahhh, tha perfect setup. Another US government conspiracy. Gotta keep tha kids believin in Santa! Keep tha economy rollin!

PT: If eyerolls made a sound, everyone within a mile radius of me would be deaf right now.

SWP: Yer a sheep.

PT: Fred gives the judge a few letters addressed to Santa Claus and delivered to Kringle. He claims the US Post Office, and by extension the federal government...

SWP: See?

PT: ... has therefore officially acknowledged that Kringle is Santa Claus. When the judge demands more proof, mailmen dump over 20 full mailbags onto the bench. He dismisses the case.

SWP: Mail? Mail won tha case for this madman? Where have I heard this before...

PT: It was a genius move, be honest.

SWP: Yea, but it only worked cuz a tha stupidity a tha opposition. Again, somethin we seen before...

PT: Hey, the ruling stands, despite how you feel about it.

So Christmas morning finally arrives. Susan is disappointed she didn't get the house she wanted.

SWP: She's really startin ta annoy me. She wants a house fer Christmas? Not even like a ipad or even a pony, a whole damn house?

PT: Hey, dream big. While Fred is driving Doris and Susan home, Susan sees the house of her dreams with a "For Sale" sign in the yard. She's ecstatic.

Fred stops the car and they get out to look at the house. Fred finds out that Doris was the one who encouraged Susan to have faith in Kringle, which led her to write that letter. He is so moved, he basically proposes to her on the spot and suggests they buy the house.

SWP: This guy really thinks things thru before actin, huh?

PT: He's a romantic. He jokingly brags about his skills as a lawyer. He did the impossible: he proved Santa Claus was real and living among us.

SWP: "Proved."

PT: Proved in a federal court of law, yes. Anyways, Doris and Fred see a red cane inside the house that looks just like Kringle's. Doris says maybe the previous owners left it, but Fred replies, "Maybe I didn't do such a good thing after all." He realizes that his lawyer abilities didn't really win the case; all he did was prove something that was true all along. 

SWP: Or, he realizes this dude Kringle is a lunatic m he fucked up by getting him out.

PT: Oh please. Why would you even think that?

SWP: What kinda phrasin is that: ""Maybe I didn't do such a good thing after all." Yeah, ya let a creeper buy a house for a little girl n now he's probly sumwhere in tha house, ya dummy. He's jus now realizin he fucked up, but it's too late. Kringle owns em.

PT: Willy, I...

SWP: Seriously, break it down. How did Kringle get tha house? It's implied he bought it, right? Where'd he get tha money? He got paid off by tha store owners who created a monopoly on tha market. There's yer "Christmas spirit." He was in it fer himself tha whole time. He buys a house fer these people he jus met? Who does that? In any other situation, we'd recognize that as tha actions of a crazy person.

And what does he want in return? His cane is there like a warning: this place is mine. I come n go as I please. Bow down.

PT: I...

SWP: Ya see it now, right?

PT: I....

SWP: Ya see how crazy dude is? N ya see how crazy this fuckin movie is?

PT: I...I'm sorry everyone. I didn't know how far gone Willy really is. He does a lot of drugs.

SWP: Don't gimme that ad hoc bullshit. Ya know my argument is right so ya jus attack me instead. I know that move, Professor. Besides, I only do weed n alcohol...n shrooms...n sum other hallucinogens.  

PT: Right. Well, it's been...interesting viewing with you, Willy. I think this movie a classic for the ages. It's about the power of the imagination and the importance of spreading love and generosity. The true spirit of Christmas. Merry Christmas everybody!

SWP: Nah. It's sum bullshit bout a maniac who cons evrybody he knows, includin little kids. Happy holidays bitchez!


We Love You All...Spread World Peace!

Saturday, February 23, 2013

A New Day

Mobb Deep - The Start of Your Ending

Hello you beautiful people. As you probably noticed, there have been a few changes to the blog. It was a great run for Of Intersections and Strange Things Told, but the time has come for a new blog to emerge. 

It was only a matter of time that Spoven Weedle Presents... took over the internet. 

If you've been paying attention to the blog for the past year, you know a little bit about SWP. You may even recall that my partner-in-weedle actually had a blog called Spoven Weedle Presents... However, we decided that we should merge our creative forces, since that was the basis of SWP in the first place. 

So there will be three authors to this blog: myself (Prof Thug); Nick Jake; and the hound, the myth, the legend, Stoned Willy Poonhound. It's the Holy Trinity, the foundation of SWP. 

Not too much will change, except for the amount of awesomeness. You'll still read my random thoughts and stories, you'll still be treated to the words of wisdom from Stoned Willy, and now you'll also be privy to the mental musings of the other founder of SWP, Nick Jake. 

I hope you enjoy the new layout and continue to enjoy my ramblings. I sincerely appreciate anybody taking the time to read this crap in the midst of the literally millions of other things you could be reading.

I Love You All...Class Disissed.

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Stoned Willy's Guide to Valentine's Day


Stoned Willy Poonhound's Guide to a 
Poontastic Valentine's Day

Wassup Bitches n' Mutts! It's Spoven Weedle's Spiritual Sherpa here to lead ya on a journey to the land a breast milk n' fine honeys. Let a true hound show ya how its goin down.

Ya may not like his music, but the ugly bastard bagged Beyonce. Respect the poonhound game.

Not only is today the 84th anniversary of evrybody's favorite Prohibition Era massacre, today is also the day some fools long ago decided to designate as a celebration of evrybody's favorite activity: bumpin uglies. Ya know, doin the freak nasty, the ole in out, in out. Gettin sum stank on the hang low, a lil of the old how's your father, some hide the salami, pack the pepperoni, guzzle the gabba gool, pork the pig. Im talkin bout some body rockin knockin the boots, rockin out in the nappy dugout, swimmin in a sea of shag.Yeah that's right, lovehounds,  it's Valentine's Day, the Hallmark Holiday that the US Greeting Card Association wants to remind you is extremely important to the person or persons yer currently bonin, so make sure to buy em a lil sumthin nice this year ya heartless bastard.

Now before I go revealin some of my best tricks to landin that pretty lil sumpin sumpin ya had yer eye on since you quit World of Warcraft n' finally left yer apartment, lemme break down what type 'a tradition it is we're actually carryin on here today. Back in the day when Rome was runnin shit, they had a lil celebration from February 13th to 15th. Just like any typical Roman party, they started by sacrificin a goat n' a dog (A DOG? YOU MOTHERFUHHHH RRRRRR GRRRR GRRRRR GRRRR ok calm down calm down all the Romans are dead, hubris and an overextended central government did em in, yer okay yer okay). From there, the party got a lil more awesome for the Romans and a lil less awesome for the Ro-womans. After the animal sacrifice (grrrrr fuckers) evrybody got naked 'n drunk, then the women made their own sacrifice: they waited in line as the men took the dead animal hides and whipped the shit out of em with the carcasses. Next, men drew women's names from a hat 'n got to diddle the fiddle of whoever they picked for the rest of the celebration. Women actually encouraged all this cuz they thought the ritual made em more fertile.

So, what does this mean? It means that since the beginnin of time, bitches n' mutts have done some wild shit to bust a nut.

A poonhound must know how to use this knowledge to his advantage.

Heed my words n' yer gonna be chillin with bitches way outta yer league n' knockin em up like a drunken Seth Rogen. Or if ya prefer, you'll be knockin fly honeys off yer collar like that special powder knocked those fleas off my collar last spring. By the way, just to officially end all the rumors, those fleas came from a pile of grass I rolled in at the park and definitely NOT from that lil Pekingese bitch from down the street.

Ok, so if ya didnt plan in advance for this lil national celebration of the beautiful union of two souls, all week ya been lookin round yer class or office or local bar for a warm body to spend Valentine's with so you dont have to act like yer celebratin "Singles Awareness Day" which should never be referred to in its acronym form (SAD) because the resulting irony would be so intense it would cause a black hole to form and tear the very fabric of our existence. At this point, chances are ya got slim pickens. The general poulation is about 10% date-able and you already nanaged to scare off another 5% with those facebook pics you were tagged in at last week's house party with yer cousin Chuck (what were ya doin with his gerbil anyway? Weird, man).  Here's a helpful poonhound hint: give that quiet lil chicadee at work or school wearin the conservative dress and her hair in a bun a holler. Ya never know, it could be a She's All That situation and ya could end up with Rachel Leigh Cook idolizin yer nutsack cuz ya asked her out when nobody but Steve from Sales with the wild dandruff would give her the time of day. More importantly, that lil shy dove in the office could be a screamin cockatiel in the sack, survivin on a strict diet of her man's testicular love juice.

So when ya finally got a lil date, pay attention to the bitch. Or at least pretend. A few simple nods and "yups" and "really?"'s really make her nipples push thru the light fabrics she's wearin. Askin questions about whatever type a female drama she's talkin bout will cause her thighs to slowly spread throughout supper, and if ya can somehow tie the convo into some shit she was talkin about in a previous convo, her vaginal canal will turn into Mega Maid and suck the air outta yer scrotum right thru yer urethra.

Here's how a typical Slick Willy Pimpin conversation goes down:

Fine-Ass Bitch: "So this chick at work is really gettin on my last nerve, I swear to God."

Me: *nods, looks deep into her eyes very understandingly* "Yeah?"

Dime-Piece Bitch: "Yeah, and Im not puttin up with it much longer."

Me: "What's goin on?"

Perfect Ten Bitch: "I worked too damn hard. I mean....(indecipherable babblin for three to sixteen minutes)...She swears she's better than me."

Me: "Kinda like that chick from yer yoga class right? The one ya talked about the other day."

Westminster Dog Show Blue Ribbon Award-Winning Bitch: "Yes!" *looks at me with wide eyes* "Yes, oh my god I cant believe you remembered that." *gently puts her paw on mine, lettin her eyes roam nonchalantly from my eyes to my crotch and back to my eyes* "Let's fuck."

And that's how it go. So either start carin about these bitches or start takin acting classes. Either way, when ya got the "thoughtful and carin individual" thing down, yer precious jewels will be sucked up by that vacuum-poon soon enough.

And when she goes from "suck" to "blow"? Mmmmmmm....

Since it's Valentine's Day and even the most jaded of bitches will still appreciate a gift, givin gifts is a good idea. Just dont half ass it. Unless of course yer in a long term relationship n ya established yerself as a poonhound who doesnt believe love can be expressed thru material goods n what not n yer love is so infinite and deep it could never be cheapened by gifts so ya dont exchange anything besides maybe on chrismas and every other birthday. In that situation, ya can stop at the highway underpass n grab a few roses n balloons out the back of a beat-up Plymouth Voyager and yer bitch will flip out 'n give you an unsolicited beejer cuz yer so thoughtful and spontaneous. But most of ya aint on that level of poonhoundery yet. It takes years of giftless holidays and anniversaries to establish that mindset in a bitch.

So for the rest of ya, avoid the last second gas station or CVS gifts. If ya end up empty handed at the time of the date, tell her ya got a surprise n then go to the bathroom and find some tickets or sum shit on yer smartphone. Hell, get nothing, it's better than 7-11 roses. And if ya get her 7-11 roses and she appreciates it, watch out, ya probably got a crackhead on yer hands. Then again, if shes the type that likes to wrap her mouth around a glass tube that used to hold gas station flowers and suck in crack cocaine fumes, ya know yer in for a real freaky Valentine's. 


If yer not ready for A Crackhead Valentine, chocolate is a good alternative. But fuck those bullshit assortment heart boxes with their three good caramels and maybe a peanut butter fillin' and the rest filled with some pink goo that oozes nastiness between yer teeth. Ya end up throwin half the box away cuz ya took a bite of 8 pieces and every one was cherry gel or bullshit coconut. Nah, spend a lil extra and get a shitload of specific chocolates she likes. If ya dont know what she likes, get milk chocolate, caramel, and peanut butter. If she dont like those or at least one of em, she gets no joy from life and aint worth yer time anyway lil homey.

Flowers are aite but they're played out. Plus, now she gotta find a vase for em, maybe even cut the thorns and stems, water em, all that other nonsense, and they still die quick. So get her sumthin that will at least increase her sexual desire, like chocolate, or get her somethin a lil more memorable. Tickets to some kind of event are always good. VIP tickets are better. A personal, private show in Alicia Key's limo parked in a lot overlookin the Grand Canyon at sunset is even better, but that's Weedle Level 6 and ya got a long way til ya reach that state of consciousness.

Now, ya dont gotta go crazy. Sometimes a thoughtful lil gift is better than a big ole expensive whatever whatever. Remember, pay attention to her (or pretend) and listen for lil hints that she drops when yer with her. And she will drop em. While walkin down a typical city block, a woman will spit out the phrase "Ohh that's nice" or "That'll look good with my red heels" or "I should get those after I get my income tax check" or "Yeah that diamond-studded double-ended dildo looks fun" on average at least 7 times. If ya can remember just a few of those instances, yer gonna have plenty of ideas for a gift that's sure to induce a wet bob on the knob.

Alright mutts, thats enough Wisdom of the Poonhound for one day. Peep my words, yes my heavenly words, and you'll have bitches locked up like 73rd. Word to big Ruck.

And bitches, understand that Im doin this for the benefit of the finer, sexier-in-a-summer-dress gender. I want ya all to be happy and Im tryin to teach these young hounds how to provide the happiness ya deserve. Yer welcome for that. Also, I dont leave anybody out when Im droppin knowledge, so Ill drop one last gem for ya bootylicious selves. This is very important and its somethin to keep in mind, especially durin these lil holidays when dudes buy ya that diamond-studded double-ended dildo and think they got a free access pass to all yer erogenous zones. So on this Valentine's Day, remember bitches:


Now go out there n celebrate yer sexual desires.

-Stoned Willy Poonhound, SWP World Ambassador


-----

Well! That was interesting! I hope you can take something from all this...on second thought, maybe you shouldn't take anything from this. Ever.

Peace!

I Love You All...Class Dismissed.