Harry Potter: The Best Worst Movie of the Year

Hollywood has done it again - and this time it's been done with gusto.

That's right: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire has been taking America by storm, ravaging respectable movie theatres until they resemble nothing more than cheap daycare facilities with vomit and pee indelibly tattooed on the maroon carpets.

A fun night at the movies has been turned into a night of screaming babies, fidgety toddlers, and an excuse for 12 year olds to date, while their parents chaperone/chain smoke in the foyer.

So is the new Harry Potter worth the suffering? The answer: a resounding yes, followed by a "well, on second thought..."

While the movie does delve into the darker side of teen wizardry (Harry shows hints of developing a drug problem, and Hermione is well on the way to becoming a pregnant highschool drop-out), it continually lapses back into shallow stereotyping of the Wizard world. The black pointy hats, the long white beards, and the predictable giants all leave a little to be desired.

While the snappy special effects and hipster music do their part to redeem what is lacking in dialogue and plot, this Potter flick is ultimately just a sad attempt at making Wizardry cool again. Let's face it people: Gandalf, Dumbledore, and their Wizard cronies are on their way out, and there's nothing we can do about it.

So go America, stand in line for hours, sit behind a tall guy with a fro, and suffer through the incessant whinings of your neighborhood's children: because if I had to suffer through this, then so should you.

The Friskies (2005)

The circuitous path of this two thousand and fifth year of our Lord is readily being traversed – the sands of time are quickly falling through the hole of that thing that holds the sand. Yes, it is almost six and two thousand.

In the spirit of remembrance and dead Indians, I submit the Friscalating Dusklight BlogAwards 2005 (The Friskies).

Best Review: Blue Like Jazz: A Review, C. Powell “This nationally syndicated review found its way to the pages of Christianity Today, the New York Times, Harper’s and even The Socialist Review. It’s impact is still being felt today as Donald Miller’s life has been rightly turned into a shambles and the only known copies remaining (that weren’t burned in the fires of our wrath) are in Cuba and Texas.” A. P. Rivell, PhD

Best Foreign Post: Whatever the crap Natalie posts when she condescends from her Spanish high horse. Seriously, Nat (If I can call you Nat), we have been waiting and waiting and now we are tired. We are tired of waiting! And you never e-mail…you never call. Sometimes I think of titles of posts you might be stewing over: “The Spanish and their many horses,” “Mino sounds like beano,” or “How many cocktails does it take for N. Smith to dance on the bar? Answer: none.” Please post soon.

Best Comment Appended to a Post: Donald Miller – “Like I give a damn what you think. I'm rich and I'm gay and I don't need you or your stupid book club's approval to feel good about myself.” Sheer Genius.

Best use of Profanity: City Daze pt. 1 ~ J.A. Klein, “Smoke little by little spilled from Maria’s pursed, red lips. “You’re a fuck-up, John,” was the last thing she spoke before turning to face the door, dropping her cigarette on the parquet floor...”

Best Poem: Papers Lay Heaped ~ A. Smith. “Smith’s portly poetry flows like ambrosia prose – satiating my lust and kissing my thoughts…It is the incarnation of ‘Yes, give me more.’” Wolcott Gibbs

Best Investigative Journalism: A Private Cleaning ~ J. Smith – “Jackie didn’t just observe peri-care, she became peri-care. I watched her as she brought in the alabaster flask and washed the elderly persons with her long flowing hair and tears. It was like music. Her post meant everything to me and more.” ~ Linda

Best Prose: The Continued Adventures of Cedric and Teddy Ruxbin ~ N. Smith. “Such lucid composition deserves much adulation, but we will give it none – who asked you to tell our story?!” ~ Cedric and Teddy Ruxbin

Best Overall Post: Death to Jacqueline A. ~ K. Bush. “What can be said about Ms. B-sh other than that I am unworthy to even mention her name so I hyphenate it. She is that good. Frankly, I am jealous, angry, and tired of being myself. Why can’t I be more like her? The felicity with which she adds letters to make words shames me. I am shamed. Shamed. Damn you, Ms. B-sh!” “Dr.” Kathy Greaves

Just an idea

Get a bunch of your friends together, ring O. J. Simpson’s doorbell, and tell him that you are “the real killers” and that you are surrendering to him so that he can finally stop searching for you. Get his reaction on videotape and sell it over the Internet.

Borowitz, Andy. TRY THESE FUN HOAXES, Shouts and Murmurs in the New Yorker, 05/16/2005