Cinema Sunday
Today's "Cinema Sunday" selection was first aired back in 2003, which was a simpler time. Yes, back then, we went to war because Saddam had weapons of mass destruction -- and the war against terror was only going to cost us $83 billion. Now, of course, Congress is in the process of approving nearly ANOTHER $83 billion to sustain operations in Iraq and Afghanistan, which will push the total for the war and related expenses to over $300 billion.
So, enjoy this piece of nostalgia written by Scott C. while you look forward to the future: a future where motorcycles from outerspace are our biggest threat.
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MURDERCYCLE: Why Bush Needs $83 Billion to Fight Terrorism
When I was a wee tyke, I had an uncle by marriage who couldn’t speak for five minutes at a time without resorting to the "N" word. Given that I saw him every Thanksgiving for eleven years, I tend to associate this holiday, not so much with pilgrims, pumpkin pie, and the effects of L-tryptophan, but rather with the bizarre image of my grandmother’s living room being transformed into a sort of Bull Connor Fantasy Camp. Eventually, the shower of "N" words (which seemed to increase with each succeeding glass of Gallo Rosé) would embarrass the other adults, several of whom visible winced as the "white or dark meat" question was asked. Inevitably, Uncle Ivan (yes, that was his name) would realize that he had overstepped even the bounds of mid-60s suburban bigotry (as elastic as those bounds were), and would try to recoup his standing with a plea for interracial sex. Probably my most potent memory of 1968 (besides the untimely cancellation of Super President) was the mingled smell of Viceroys and blush wine as Ivan leaned down to me and muttered, "Hey, they’re all pink on the inside."
Now, my family sprang from a long line of Quaker abolitionists, so there was usually a carefully phrased lecture in the car on the way home, all about how Uncle Ivan was a very nice man, and an excellent welder, but sometimes when he had too much wine, he said some things that were not nice, and not true, and should never be repeated.
This is basically what seems to have happened this week after Vice President Cheney appeared on Meet the Press. Dick came on strong, repeating a number of the questionable and downright false assertions the Administration made as it built support for an invasion of Iraq. Only this time, Cousin George and Aunt Condoleeza took America aside afterwards and said that Uncle Dick is a very nice man, and exceptionally well-connected to no-bid government contractors, but he did say some things that weren’t really strictly 100% true.
As it turns out, the Administration is discarding the lies that have served it so well because, according to a classified NSC report, the next war is going to require an entirely different set of lies. It seems the WMDs are still out there, but now they’re going to be even harder to find, because they’re mobile. Not sitting in an ammo depot, or buried in a bunker in the desert, our new enemy’s Weapons of Mass Destruction are cruising down pastoral county roads, with occasional time out for Sidehacking. Yes, in next War of Survival we must wage against a Dictator to be named later, our enemy will be armed, not with mustard gas or nerve agent, but with a fearsome alien technology: mutated motorcyclists!
The government is suppressing the details, but through surreptitious means, we were able to obtain this highly classified Threat Assessment from the rental counter at our local Blockbuster:
Murdercycle (1999)
Directed by: Tom Calloway
Written by: Daniel Elliot
(Note: All the characters in this film are named after comic-book artists of the ’60s and ’70s: Kirby, Lee, Ditko, etc. This conceit is not essential to the plot; we mention it only because knowing this fact makes the movie considerably more irritating.)
A meteorite falls to earth, and a passing motorcyclist pauses to investigate. The extraterrestrial rock bursts open, and badly animated tentacles reach out and grab the rider, hideously transforming him from a human being into a human being with model airplane parts stuck to his clothes. His vehicle, meanwhile, has metamorphosed from a typical Yamaha into a fearsome alien killing machine with tarpaper roofing shingles and latex enema hoses glued to it.
A CIA agent assigned to a nearby top-secret facility is attacked by the Murdercycle--apparently in the midst of posing for the J. Crew fall catalogue. The Murdercycle shoots the CIA man with a laser, which causes him to talk like William Shatner.
The next day, a Marine Corps sergeant who resembles a slightly tougher-looking Gomer Pyle is sitting half-naked in a mobile home with a 9mm automatic. He starts to re-enact Mel Gibson’s suicide attempt from Lethal Weapon when there’s a knock at the door, and he’s summoned to a meeting with the big brass at Camp Abraham Lincoln Junior High School.
One of the CIA’s top J. Crew models is missing, and Lethal Gomer has been picked to lead a crack squad consisting of two other guys to investigate. They are accompanied by Dr. Lee, a government psychic who was apparently recruited from the "Ringlets Can Spice Up a Dowdy ’Do" pictorial in YM. Commanding the mission is another CIA agent, Mr. Wood, who is presently undercover on the cover of GQ.
Psychic Friend Dr. Lee is concerned about their chances for success. She realizes that Lethal Gomer is unstable, because he wears the dog tags of his Longtime Companion, a Marine who was killed in a Gulf War operation that went tragically wrong when it was accidentally conducted in Griffith Park.
Meanwhile, the team approaches the top-secret facility. Suddenly, MC Yamaha is in the house! He roars toward the squad, shoots one of them with his amazingly ineffective laser, and putters off.
Lethal Gomer demands to know what’s going on. Reluctantly, Agent GQ confesses that the facility is actually a high-tech listening post.. "And certain foreign powers," he intones ominously, "Would kill to get their hands on this equipment." (Which appears to consist of a graphic equalizer, an 8-track tape player, and a See-and-Spell.)
The Murdercycle returns and rides around while they all shoot at him, but their bullets have absolutely no effect. So they do it again. And again. Then, for a change of pace, the director cuts to some pastoral scenes of the Murdercycle cruising down country lanes while the theme to Shaka Zulu plays.
Then it’s back to our movie, as Lethal Gomer’s squad shoots their ineffective bullets at the Murdercycle, while he shoots his ineffective lasers at them. Finally, Lethal Gomer demands to know exactly what GQ is hiding, and orders Dr. Lee to read the CIA agent’s mind. But he thwarts her psychic probe by singing the "Sobbin’ Women" number from Seven Brides for Seven Brothers.
Eventually, GQ breaks down and reveals a secret underground bunker housing an extraterrestrial softball locked in a high-security microwave oven. The softball holds the sum of all human knowledge, except for the information contained in Syd Field’s book, Screenplay.
Another, less photogenic CIA agent breaks into the microwave and surreptitiously removes the softball so he can heat up his breakfast burrito. There’s some minor treachery, and a lot more shooting. Finally, the day is saved when Dr. Lee beans the Murdercyclist with the alien softball, and instead of advancing to first base, he explodes.
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So there you have it. If you thought it was difficult to find Saddam’s stockpiles of WMDs, try picking those weapons out of 100,000 other motorcyclists milling around Sturgis, South Dakota. Instapundit may scoff at claims of a "quagmire," but it’s common knowledge that on SUNDAY! SUNDAY! SUNDAY! those Motorcross guys love to turn the Municipal Coliseum into a giant MUD PIT!
My guess the for next photo op: George W. Bush parading in a full set of Harley leathers. Or maybe engineer boots and a T-shirt that says, "If you can read this, the bitch fell off." And I’m predicting this will be Laura’s new fall look:
12:43:55 AM 
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