Showing posts with label Movie Trailer Guy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Movie Trailer Guy. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

A Passover Pageant

Jeremy: There are sections of the haggadah that, quite frankly, could use a polish.
Dan: You're gonna do a rewrite on the haggadah?
Jeremy: It's not written in stone, Dan.
Dan: Actually, some of it is.
- Sports Night


I wrote a Passover pageant, for the story-telling portion of my all-Gentiles seder. It went over rather well. Enjoy, and feel free to use/re-post, with credit.

NARRATOR: Previously, in Genesis:

GOD: It sure is dark in here... claps twice Hey, that worked!

ABRAHAM: Man, I can't keep track of all these gods, can't I consolidate all my worship into one easy deity?

GOD: Sure!

ABRAHAM: Yay!

GOD: Although, not so much with the easy. Go kill your son Isaac.

ABRAHAM: What??

GOD: J/k, j/k! Chill out, theologians.

ISAAC: I'm a pretty passive figure, overall. Jacob, Esau, what are you boys doing?

JACOB: Just stealing Esau's birthright, Dad!

ESAU: Do you have any idea how badly I want to kill you?

RANDOM ANGEL: Me too! I am so not on Team Jacob. Let's wrestle. On a ladder. Just because.

JACOB: Whatever, I am Israel, I can do whatever I want. C'mon, wives, let's get cracking on this “descendants as plentiful as the stars” business, if you know what I mean.

JOSEPH: Hey guys! I had this dream that you were all bundles of grain and you were bowing down to me! Isn't that funny guys? Why are you throwing me in this hole? Did someone take my technicolor dreamcoat? Hey guys? Guys?

POTIPHAR'S WIFE: You there! Slave boy! How you doin'?

JOSEPH: Err...

JOSEPH'S PHAROAH: Man, these weird dreams suck. I wonder if there's anyone locked in my dungeon who can interpret them for me.

JOSEPH: Me! Me me me! So either there's going to be 7 years of plenty and 7 years of famine, or you want to bone your mother. 5 cents, please.

JOSEPH'S PHAROAH: Such low rates!

JOSEPH: For you, I make a deal. Now let's talk royalties.

NARRATOR: And so Joseph became the Pharoah's chief of staff, and invited Jacob, Joseph's asshole brothers, and 70 other free-loading relatives to shlep down to Egypt and settle in the land of Goshen. Several hundred years pass, and the Hebrews, as we are now calling them for some reason, have been fruitful and multiplied. Then there came a pharoah who knew not Joseph...

PHAROAH: I know not Joseph, but I do know that all these pesky Hebrews are really ruining the neighborhood.

ROYAL BUTLER: You can't kick them out, sir; they've got rent control.

PHAROAH: Bah! Might as well make them useful, then. What are they good at?

BUTLER: Nothing very useful, sir. Comedy writing, standardized tests, and kvetching.

PHAROAH: Well, let's give them something to kvetch about. This view of the Nile would look a lot nicer with some big pointy brick things, don't you think?

NARRATOR: So the Hebrews became slaves, which wasn't exactly a picnic, so they just kept on having children so that they'd have someone to complain to.

BUTLER: Sir, the Hebrews still won't go away. They're just packing more children into their huts.

PHAROAH: They'll never give up a nice deal like Goshen as long as they have kids who can inherit it. Tell the midwives Shifrah and Puah to kill every baby boy born to a Hebrew woman.

SHIFRAH: What??

PUAH: This job blows.

SHIFRAH: I so didn't sign up for this.

PUAH: Let's tell Pharoah that the Hebrew women are unnaturally vigorous and give birth before we can get there. The ruling class always likes to hear that the disenfranchised are hardy and animalistic.

SHIFRAH: Sweet.

NARRATOR: Thanks to Shifrah and Puah, a Hebrew woman named Yochevet gave birth to a baby boy and was able to hide him from the authorities. But after a few months he was too big to hide, so with great sadness, she put the baby in a basket and floated it down the Nile. The baby's sister Miriam hid among the bulrushes to see what would happen to her little brother.

PHAROAH'S DAUGHTER: Hey look, a basket! With a baby in it! Aww, can I keep it?

MIRIAM: But you'd have to nurse it and take care of it and stuff.

P's DAUGHTER: Oh. Well, am I a princess or am I a princess? I'll hire someone.

MIRIAM: I know just the woman for the job.

NARRATOR: So Yochevet was hired to nurse her own son, which is a pretty great scam, and though Moses grew up in the court of the pharoah, he never forgot his birth mother's teachings. One day, Moses was slumming it in Goshen, and he saw a slavedriver cruelly whipping a Hebrew.

MOSES: Dude, relax.

SLAVEDRIVER: Relax? I've got production deadlines to meet, and these lazy Hebrews aren't meeting their brick-baking quota, and you're telling me to relax?

MOSES: Maybe if you were a little nicer to them...

SLAVEDRIVER: “Nice” doesn't get you bargain rate pyramids, mister. Or did you never think about where all your fancy papyrus comes from?

NARRATOR: He hadn't, actually, and so Moses did what any privileged young man would do when confronted with the source of his privilege – blamed someone else and killed the slavedriver.

MOSES: Uh oh.

NARRATOR: So he skedaddled the hell out of Egypt and had a nice long wander in the desert, before coming across a lovely shiksa named Zipporah.

ZIPPORAH: Hey, stranger. New to this strange land?

MOSES: Sure am.

NARRATOR: And Moses spent a couple decades chilling with the Bedouins. Meanwhile, things kinda sucked for the Hebrews.

ALL: Grumble grumble grumble grumble

NARRATOR: But God heard their grumbling. One day, Moses was chilling with his sheep at the foot of Mount Sinai, when the mountain went all lightning-y. When Moses reached the summit, he found a bush that burned with flame, yet was not consumed.

MOSES: Awe-some.

GOD: Moses, Moses.

MOSES: Here I am!

GOD: Take off your shoes. I just vacuumed the holy ground.

MOSES: Who are you?

GOD: I want you to go into Egypt and tell Pharoah to let my people go.

MOSES: Okay great, but who are you?

GOD: I Am Who I Am.

MOSES: But who should I tell Pharoah has sent me?

GOD: I Am Who I Am.

MOSES: That's... not very grammatical.

GOD: No, it's tetragrammatical! Zing!

MOSES: Oh god.

GOD: Yes?

MOSES: Listen, can't you get someone else to do this? I'm busy. I have to... shampoo my sheep.

GOD: Moses.

MOSES: No seriously. I am slow of tongue. I mean, sloooww offff toooongggguuuueeee...

GOD: Get your brother Aaron to talk for you. He was always the cute one.

NARRATOR: Moses went back to Egypt and found Aaron, who was in fact the cute one, and they marched in to Pharoah's palace and said:

AARON: Let my people go!

PHAROAH: No.

AARON: Oh. Please?

P's DAUGHTER: Okay!

PHAROAH: No.

MOSES: Psst, Aaron! Try the staff thing.

NARRATOR: Aaron raised his staff over the Nile, and the water turned to blood. Or red like blood. Depending who you ask. Either way, for seven days and nights it was pretty nasty stuff. But the Pharoah's magicians were also able to turn water into red stuff, so Pharoah was unimpressed.

PHAROAH: Moses, Moses, Moses. What else have you got?

NARRATOR: Next, Aaron summoned up a plague of frogs. Hundreds, thousands of frogs, hopping all over Egypt on their little frog legs. But the magicians could pull frogs out of their hat too, and Pharoah's heart was hardened. Next came gnats, which are really gross.

PHAROAH: Ew ew ew! Make them go away! Make them go away and you can leave!

NARRATOR: But God hardened Pharoah's heart, which is one of those problematic translation things that I'm just gonna skip right over, and everyone went back to the drawing board. There were flies, and cattle disease, and boils. Then shit got real. It hailed great big hailstones that burst into flame. Locusts came and nommed all the crops. And Moses stretched out his hand and--

MOSES: claps twice

NARRATOR: --drew a darkness over Egypt for three days.

BUTLER: Okay, sir? I'm covered in boils, there's nothing to eat, and I keep walking into frog carcasses because I can't see where I'm going. Let those people go.

PHAROAH: Sorry, my heart's been hardened. Out of my hands.

AARON: Alright, but listen. This last plague's not going to be pretty.

NARRATOR: God spoke to Moses and Aaron, and gave them a shopping list which has changed little in five thousand years, with the same old bitter herbs and unleavened bread, along with a nice dab of lamb's blood for the doorway so that the angel of death would pass over their house. And at midnight, the angel of death swept through the land of Egypt, and slew the first-born of all the Egyptians.

PHAROAH: Get out! Out out out! Scram! Beat it!

AARON: Kthxbai!

BUTLER: You're not going to harden your heart again, right sir?

PHAROAH: Well... I do have all these annoying unfinished pyramids... And that Sphinx could sure use a nose.

BUTLER: Which you'll want the Israelites for, obviously! ...It's funny because they have big noses.

PHAROAH: To the chariots!

NARRATOR: Meanwhile, the Israelites had reached the Red Sea.

MOSES: Huh.

MIRIAM: This doesn't look good. Do we ford the river?

PHAROAH: I'm coming for you, Israel!

MOSES: I guess we're not waiting to see if conditions improve. Onwards!

NARRATOR: And Moses raised his staff and parted the sea, and the children of Israel walked across on dry land. But when Pharoah's chariots tried to follow, their wheels got stuck in the mud, and when the last Israelite reached the bank the waters came crashing back down, drowning the Egyptians.

MIRIAM: Hurrah! Now what?

MOSES: I have to climb this mountain, brb.

NARRATOR: The Israelites, however, were not very patient.

ISRAELITE 1: Where's Moses?

ISRAELITE 2: I'm bored!

ISRAELITE 3: Can we eat yet?

AARON: Hey guys! You know what would pass the time? Why don't you give me all your gold and jewelry, and I'll build a giant shiny cow!

ISRAELITES: Yaaaaay!

MIRIAM: Why do slaves have gold?

AARON: We looted the Egyptians on our way out.

MIRIAM: Seriously? That doesn't seem very under-doggy of us...

AARON: Listen, do you want to hear one of the lesser-known stories where our guys forcibly circumcise our enemies? Or do you want to make a shiny cow?

MIRIAM: Moo.

MOSES: I am back! I am back and I have brought you these two stone tablets, which contain the – oooh, shiny! [drops the tablets] Uh oh. Hope I saved the receipt...

GOD: [face-palm]

NARRATOR: But God gave the children of Israel another chance and gave the law to Moses again. But as punishment, the corrupted former slaves had to die off before they could enter the Promised Land. Forty years of wandering later, they finally reached their new homeland. Unfortunately some other people lived there already, but that's not a very pleasant story and these four glasses of wine aren't going to drink themselves, so let's just pretend the Israelites made friends with their new neighbors and nothing troublesome or morally squicky ever happened in the land of Israel ever again. The end!

Saturday, January 9, 2010

Micro-travelblogging

Traveling alone and domestically is a perfect opportunity to get hit by a bus while texting a tweet. I'm in Los Angeles for the first time, for truly no good reason, and I've been keeping a running commentary via Twitter. Sporadically updated to here, for those who don't do the twitter thing, is my mini trip told through mini comments.


There is a totally steampunk dude waiting for my flight. Goggles and all. He is kinda cute in that Probably Crazy way.Perhaps Goggle Guy is flying the plane! That would explain it. Ill know if instead of boarding a 747 they have us board a red dog house.I only just realized that even though its warm in LA, it is still technically winter and therefore will get dark early. D'oh! Chasing the sun across the Rockies. :-D Los Angeles is surrounded by mountains! Who knew? Ohhhh thats why they call it The Valley. I am a moron. You can see the Hollywood sign as you fly in! Until you fly under the smog cover anyway.Just passed an office for Animal Dermatology. Wow LA.

So far, LA bears a striking resemblance to Long Island...

Unimpressed with Santa Monica. Looks like Sheepshead Bay. And the fog is giving me triangle hair.

Day 2

Worst. Pedestrian. City. Ever.

Vitamin D is AWESOME.

Visited the Huntington gardens with a friend I haven't seen in six years. Lovely afternoon! ...now what?

There are pricklies in my finger. This is what I get for feeling up the cacti. This, and a Darwin Award.

Been wandering Pasadena for twenty minutes and still have not found any Mexican take-out. This IS California, right?

First sidewalk star I see, as I step off the bus, is Gloria Swanson. How appropriate. I can go home now I guess.

Hollywood Blvd makes Disney MGM Studios seem exciting.

Just bought shoes at Frederick's of Hollywood. I'm doin' it wrong.

Is there a Raymond Chandler museum in LA? Prob not, same dumb way New Orleans has nothing for Tennessee Williams.

There is an 800 number you can call to ask an operator how to get somewhere on public trans. Why don't we have that?

Saturday

In the hostel courtyard, two french girls are enthusiastically video chatting with friends and a puppy in Paris. This is like a commercial for The Future.

En route to the Getty. The bus infrastructure here is actually fantastic. They just need to make a schematic map and provide free transfers.

LA women make me feel ugly, but I am receiving a higher than usual rate of compliments from strangers. Culture? Or Blonde-in-Japan effect?

I get inappropriately emotional when i visit museums alone. I just welled up at a photograph of workers erecting Eiffel's tower.

Also if you have never looked closely at Dorothea Lange's Migrant Worker, you should.

Just ran into someone from Uchoir. World = ridic.

Went to the Magic Castle. And guess what guys?? MAGIC IS REAL.

Sunday

DISNEYLAND DISNEYLAND DISNEYLAND DISNEYLAND

Monday

Disneyland recap: DISNEYLAND IS AMAZING. Sure, it's more cramped than DisneyWorld, but the Indiana Jones ride makes my life. <3>

More importantly, how do you get to be an Imagineer? Do you have to already be one of those other things that end with "-gineer"?


All the birds sing words and the flowers croon!

Tuesday

I have 14 hours left in Los Angeles. What should I do? Because hanging around Chris's apartment is looking tempting...

At the Getty Villa, where they are so flummoxed to have a pedestrian visitor that the parking attendant had to call security to check what to do about me.

I am not so much hiking as i am clambering. Or perhaps "aerobic trespassing."

Using a display laptop in Office Max like a homeless person.

This In 'n' Out thing really is pretty okay.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Point-missing, Spoilery, or Otherwise Amusing Translations of Movie Titles

It was raining a lot in Sevilla, so Jenny and I amused ourselves by making this list in a FNAC.

Point-missing, Spoilery, or Otherwise Amusing Translations of Movie and TV Titles
(key below)

  1. Mejor... Imposible
  2. Desayuno con Diamantes
  3. Atrapado en el Tiempo
  4. El Invisible Harvey
  5. Urgencias
  6. Expediente X
  7. A dos metros bajo tierra
  8. El Sueño de mi Vida
  9. Descubriendo Nunca Jamás
  10. El Caballero Oscuro
  11. La Guerra de las Galaxas
  12. Padre Made in USA
(the originals)
  1. As Good As It Gets
  2. Breakfast at Tiffanys
  3. Groundhog Day
  4. Harvey
  5. ER
  6. X-Files
  7. Six Feet Under
  8. 13 going on 30
  9. Finding Neverland
  10. The Dark Knight
  11. Star Wars
  12. American Dad


Bonus book section!

Los Cuentos de Beedle el Bardo


Also, Harvard fails at policing unauthorized uses of its image overseas, apparently:

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

I learned stuff in college

From: Con
Date: Tue, Oct 28, 2008 at 1:26 PM
Subject: Foucault and me.
To: Elizabeth

Dear Liz,
WHAT THE HELL?! Books are hard:

"In the era of post-aboutness in which 'I' is at the same time both dead and resurrected; it is here that we find society begins to question who or what is doing the 'talking'. Of course, what *is* doing the talking: that is, 'what' (or should I say watt?) the pancultural unit of the questioner's power over the questioned; for it is in asking 'What am I talking about?' that the questioner at once accuses himself of madness and compels the prostration of 'am' before the towering phallus of 'I'; thus he inverts the socially prescribed order with the syntactical seduction of questioning."
(Foucault 1980)

--


From: Elizabeth
Date: Tue, Oct 28, 2008 at 1:52 PM
Subject: Re: Foucault and me.
To: Con


Here, let me parse it for you. Please read the following in the voice of the Movie Trailer Guy.


In the era of post-aboutness...

When 'I' is both dead and resurrected....

Society begins to ask: 'who is doing the 'talking'?

But is the question who... or WHAT.

[a light bulb sputters and dies]
[quick flash of a brightly lit interrogation room]
[close up of suspect's face, bruised and battered]

One man's question...

[the Questioner leaning over the suspect]
QUESTIONER: What am I talking about?!

One man's quest...

[the Questioner slumped against a wall, exhausted, with a female hand slinking over his shoulder]

Will lead him to the brink of madness...

[the Questioner locking himself into a straight jacket]
[in a padded room, the Questioner throws himself at the walls]
[the Suspect, manically, grins at the camera]

And through the seduction of questioning...

[against a cement wall, the Questioner violently kisses a woman in a red dress]

Begins the inversion of the socially prescribed order...

[dozens of identical prisoners march in step through a normal suburban street]
[close up on one of the prisoners - it is the Questioner]

To the compelling prostration....

[the rows of prisoners fall to their knees]
[the Questioner lies prostrate, but lifts his head]
[he sees before him an enormous, shining, dominating Letter I ]

[music: Also Sprach Zarathustra]

At the towering phallus of I.

[close-up on an eyeball. it blinks. when the lid re-opens, the eye is bloodied]

Text on screen:
THE TOWERING PHALLUS OF I
June 2009

Brought to you by the letter I and the number i.