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Joker – Review

Joker

Rating: 5 out of 5

Let me just preface this review saying that Joker is by far my favorite villain of all time.  Joker has a special place in my heart much like boobs have a special place on my face. He is forever a compelling, interesting character that is full of surprises and fun. 

There. That is out of the way.

The latest incarnation of Joker is a demented trip into the mind of a mentally ill man living in a disheveled Gotham. However, the thing that I found most intriguing about this movie was that it didn’t need this setting. It didn’t need any connection to the Batman universe at all. That connection only enhanced the movie by providing a startling backstory for America’s favorite clown (next to Bernie Sanders. Feel the buuuuuuuuuuuuurn).

This was not the Heath-era Joker that loves chaos with no real rhyme or reason for his destructive actions.  I love, even prefer, that interpretation of the character, but this was not it. This was a mentally-disturbed man that spent his life slowly descending into a pit of solitude until he finally hit rock bottom and rose from the depths with a desire to get back at a world that never loved him and never accepted him. It was a very real, very uncomfortable experience, and I thought it was brilliant. 

Uncomfortable is the best way I can describe it. I left the theater feeling uncomfortable. The thing is, it’s difficult to describe why it made me feel so uncomfortable. It’s like when you’ve just masturbated, and you walk out of your grandmother’s bathroom and you are immediately certain that everyone knows what you have been up to. Your cousins are staring at you, your niece is drooling and mumbling something that sounds like thinly veiled racism, and your wife is shaking her head in disbelief. You start to wonder if your hand smells like dude yogurt, and one tear begins to roll down your face in shame. That is what watching Joker was like.

Joaquin Phoenix gave a performance that was otherworldly. He completely transformed himself, and if he does not receive an Oscar for the role, I will travel to the Academy Headquarter Place of Doom and dump a truckload of thirty-seven-day old porta potty dookie in their lobby. He deserves that shit. I loved the writing as well. It was political without being pushy, and it was disturbing without being unnecessary. To me, it was a perfectly balanced film.

I must say this: Don’t listen to the critics. Those dildo chompers wanted to call Joker derivative and uninspired, but all I got from their reviews was that they are the ones who are derivative and uninspired. They are bags of shit on the soles of my shoes. I hope President Donnie-licious signs an Executive Order forcing these critics to live in solitude in cages made of butthole skin.

Overall, I thought Joker was fantastic, and I highly recommend getting the full experience while it is in theaters. I give it a five out of five.       

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The Tragic Tale of the 5th Beatle

the tragic tale of the fifth member of the beatles

In 1964, the unstoppable force of the Beatles swept across America. It is a period that adults across the world remember to this day, and it is a period that changed the landscape of the music industry forever. What many people don’t know is that the Beatles landed that day with a fifth member, whom they shunned amidst the racial tension and pressures that were so present in the world at the time. Since then, the surviving members have worked tirelessly to eradicate the controversial history of the Beatles and take credit for the work of another. Today, the world will hear the real story of a rock ‘n’ roll visionary and the events that led to his downfall. This is the story of David Sasquatch.

David P Sasquatch was a singer, songwriter, and kazoo player that was born in 1942 in Liverpool, England. His mother, Mildred Sasquatch, was a door to door vacuum salesperson who struggled to make ends meet. His father, Robert Sasquatch, left the family before David was born and spent his life roaming the countryside in solitude. To this day, there is speculation that the father David heard about so often never even existed.

David was a mediocre student, who was kicked out of several private schools for attempting to eat the other children and had to settle for an in-home education led by a wandering gypsy named Nessy Munstar. It was during these troubled years that David began to discover his tremendous gifts as a songwriter. It was not long before David, needing to express himself further, began to sing and play an old left-handed kazoo that he bought from a second-hand store in London. David had truly found his calling.

By 1957, David was touring the London area with his first band, the Bo Daggetts, who played a mix of rock ‘n’ roll and hobnob, a type of popular music with jazz, blues, and sheep-noise influences. Word of mouth was quickly spreading, and the Bo Daggetts soon secured a gig playing with another young band, the Quarrymen, who featured John Lennon and Paul McCartney. The show was an immense success, and Lennon soon asked David to join their ranks in order to strengthen their songwriting and swoon audiences with his silky voice.

George Harrison joined in 1958 as lead guitarist, followed by Lennon’s art school friend Stuart Sutcliffe on bass. By May of 1960, the band had tried several names including Johnny and the Moondogs, Fart Butt, and the Silver Beetles. They adopted the name the Beatles in August of 1960 and recruited drummer Pete Best shortly before a five-engagement residency in Hamburg.

David quickly established himself as the chief songwriter of the group, and took on double duties as the singer and kazoo player. He was praised for his unique voice and approach to the kazoo, and he was the first player to go completely electric. In the early days, he often ended shows with a ten-minute kazoo shred fest, described as both mesmerizing and panty-soaking by critics at the time.

Lennon and McCartney could sense that David was achieving notoriety more quickly than the rest of the band, and their boiling jealousy led them to reveal in subsequent interviews that David was not a man, but a sasquatch. This quickly led to backlash from the public, as longstanding prejudices in western societies led many to question whether sasquatches should be allowed to make music. David’s role in the Beatles was immediately diminished, as the group fought to continue their growth in popularity. David was no longer allowed to sing, and he was forced to stand off stage during their performances. Years later, it was revealed that the crew had also stopped plugging in his kazoo during this time. Things were beginning to fall apart for David Sasquatch.

In 1962, Ringo Starr replaced Pete Best as the drummer, and the band had their first hit with “Love Me Do” later that year. Though the song was written exclusively by David, the band felt that his sasquatch heritage would take away from the song, so he was excluded from songwriting credits. By 1964, Beatlemania had swept across the Atlantic, and the Beatles found themselves in America. Unfortunately, the day when the band landed in America was the last day David was a part of the Beatles. The rest of the band told him they were going to buy cinnamon rolls in the terminal, but they ditched him, leaving him with nothing but his favorite kazoo and a broken heart.

The Beatles went on to have one of the most incredible careers in the history of music, and released many songs that were actually written by David including “Yesterday,” “Here Comes the Sun,” and “Hey Jude” (which originally contained a thirty-three-minute kazoo solo). David was never given credit for his contributions, and he never received any compensation. As a result, he was forced to live in poverty, foraging for food in the woods and remaining a recluse for much of his life.

On December 8th, 1980 David met with Mark David Chapman in an empty Denny’s parking lot and paid him fifty-three dollars to murder John Lennon. Unfortunately for David, his hired hand was a bit looney and hung around the crime scene until the police arrived. The killer was given a life sentence, but not before he gave authorities information that led to a nationwide manhunt for David. The police searched for months, but they were unable to locate the poor sasquatch, who spent the next three decades hiding in various forests across the United States and Canada. In 2010, a lone hiker in Oregon spotted the body of a large primate huddled up next to a tree trunk. The body was badly decomposed, but it was clearly hugging an old, rusty kazoo. When the hiker returned with the police, the body was gone. No trace of David was ever seen again. No one has ever been able to prove the fate of David P Sasquatch, and though his story is a tragic one, it is important to remember his endless contributions to music.

This writer hopes that David P Sasquatch finally found peace and is playing an epic kazoo solo for a bunch of topless angels right now.

-Sir Chase Hooper, 2017