Wednesday, March 29, 2006

More crappy movies reviewed

Larry the Cable Guy: Health Inspector:

The Onion AV Club's Review.
Peter Sobczynski at

Surprise--critics are saying that the film is for shit. Who'd have thunk it? Do I plan to see it? Fuck no.

The Shaggy Dog:

Tyler Morning Telegraph review

I was going to say that I'd rather be boned up the ass with a pitchfork than see this movie, but the last sentence of the chud review sums it up better.


Tuesday, March 14, 2006


I can’t remember precisely how I came across the website—but the point is, I did, and I’m very pleased. Go here: Think of this entry as a preparation/primer for it.

Ulillillia is a boy—no, a man—22, from North Dakota. At first glance, the website is utterly stifling, with its plain presentation and often stilted language—somewhat unpleasant, in a way, but intriguing all the same because it’s quite clear that this man is not from the same planet that most come from.

He’s got a thing for numbers. Understatement?

Every detail has a figure attached to it, a quantification and categorization, like an over-analyzed role-playing game—but what’s being discussed is real life here. My first conclusions about Uli? Ill. D&D fan. Whatever. OCD. Too much detail to be able to sift through his thoughts.

True, there’s a lot (read: tons) to get through, but the website, this website, has given me the clearest picture of anyone I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting. In fact, I don’t even have to wonder what he’s doing right now—there’s a handy little formula on his website that one can use to figure out whether he’s likely asleep or not—and if he’s awake, you can bet that he’s either working on a movie script, updating his website, one of two video games, is on How What Why, or is lost in his thoughts—what he calls his “mind game.”

The man’s got more going on than I do, and he doesn’t have a job or own a car. The solution to getting it all done? Don’t leave the house. Ever. This is an overstatement. He gets out, I’m sure, but this is rarely discussed in any measurable detail.

You’ll find a wealth of information about his projects on the site, but the most intriguing, far and away, is the “About Me” section. This’ll give you not a glimpse, but rather an unabashed stare into the mind—yes, the mind—of Uli. All the way in.

Most folks, if you’re anything like me, keep much of themselves to themselves—the little things that you do while you’re walking, like counting your steps or making sure not to stand on a crack or picking up pennies on heads—but not Ulillillia. He’s remarkably candid about who he is, what drives him, and where he comes from. He describes each year of his education in detail, as well as “special events,” the most interesting of which is a story detailing a Shakespearian play he was in (I’m not sure which one—anyone familiar with the line “Hello within,” and then a character runs across the stage?).

The most harrowing and telling sections of the website are, without any doubt, those titled “Video Games” and “Major Fears.” “Video Games” shows us the man’s origins, where his current mode of thought originates from and affords us the opportunity to know him in terms of why—it’s all explained. Why do I keep saying that?

My favorite section of the website, hands down—and I admit that it’s schadenfreude (spelling?) that makes it my favorite—is the “Major Fears” section. Ulillillia lists—and yes, describes, in harrowing robotic detail—each of them. Here’s a taste: "This fear, the fear of mirrors, has been with me for over a decade and a half, since about 1988 or 1989. This fear prevents me from getting too much in the direct path of a mirror. However, I have no problem going in front of mirrors in my mind game or in video games, even seeing one head on as an image on a screen is okay as well. I've got one major example of a case in which I didn't have this fear.
The exact cause is not known."

After some thought, it’s not the fact that I like to indulge in things that aren’t necessarily pleasant, or the fact that the misfortune/weirdness of others intrigues me that I like so much about Ulillillia—it’s the fact that he’s telling the truth in every way. This is the world as he sees it, told through his own foggy lens. These words are him, no question about it.

Aside from the content itself, what’s most striking about Uli is the presentation of the content, its mathematical bent, its extreme detail. He sees everything with a strange equality—no stone is unturned. But most important, he details those things that most of us just skip over, those things that we usually generalize without ever thinking about it—and he twists them, turns them into something new. Something great, something real, and something genuinely fantastic. I love Ulillillia.

UPDATE: 05/12/2006

Ulillillia's come across this weblog and references it on his website. He notes the entry about him as "interesting." I am very pleased, I think. Ain't the web great?

Monday, March 06, 2006


I know I'm slamming two posts right into one another, but they're both important to me.

I’ve heard a number of stories from various people who had seen, in the early to mid-90’s, a guy dressed up like Batman (the Michael Keaton version) in an assortment of situations around the Clifton/Corryville/University of Cincinnati area. I’m looking for people to relate these stories to me—not for any real reason, other than to maybe post them here.

If you’ve heard any of these stories, or know someone who does, hook me up.

Walking Guy

Many years ago, in Florence, KY, there was a young man of some legend around my circle of friends that everyone called “Walking Guy.” He was (as I remember, anyhow) tall and thin, always wore headphones and had this incredibly long, bouncing stride that might have fit right into the Ministry of Silly Walks. The evidence is overwhelming that the boy was all but functionally retarded.

We’d see him whenever we were out that way, walking down US 42, away from Mall Road towards Industrial, ostensibly listening to music as he made his way somewhere. A Walking Guy sighting was an ordinary occurrence, but it never went without mention. “Walking Guy,” someone would always say with a brief point. We’d all smile, watch for a moment, and go on with whatever business we had. No big deal.

I never gave it much thought until a couple Saturdays ago, when the Mardi Gras parade was going down on Mainstrasse, a half-block from the house. I’d taken pizza and sweet potato fries out of the oven for Jill and her sister and brother-in-law when it started. They were down around sixth street to watch the parade, and I thought it a good idea to head down; I’d never seen the Gras before.

I went to the corner and stood, my hands in my pockets, behind a group of kids bent on catching beads and candy. Pleasant. Nothing less.

A guy walked up to me and we exchanged greetings, just as people in Covington tend to do (whether they live around the Strasse or not)—no big deal. We watched the parade for a moment, and then the guy looked at me.

“I see you all the time,” he said.

I didn’t know what he was talking about and said nothing.

“I see you walking every morning and afternoon.” He smiled at me. For a moment, I was creeped out, but it went away as soon as I rationalized that he wasn’t a stalker or trying to get in my pants.

“Yep,” I said. “That’s me.”

We were silent for the rest of the parade, which was boring save for a couple of fire-eaters that walked between a couple floats.

I walked home without incident or excitement.

Weeks later, the thought came to me that I’d become a variation on Walking Guy. I am Walking Guy, to that fella that came up to me. Maybe I’m Walking Guy to a bunch of people along 7th street, 6th street, Madison, 5th, and Scott. Maybe the same people drive past me every day, point and say “Hey, it’s Walking Guy.” Perhaps they think I might be functionally retarded because of the way that I walk.

Is there an unknown brotherhood that I’m part of? A group of people that lots of people see walking around all of the time?

Do you have a Walking Guy?

UPDATE: March 10, 2006: It has come to my attention that there is another group of folks who know of Walking Guy, only they've given him a different name: Florence Gump. Wow.

Thursday, March 02, 2006


Brandon Bird is, without any doubt in my mind, the greatest artist of all time. I could go ahead and write somewhere between 500 and 1000 words explaining why I think that this is true, but I'm not going to. Go: Brandon Bird

Let me know what you think.