Why the World Will End Tomorrow

It's time to put this issue to rest.

To the general public- make sure there aren't any hard-earned dollars left in your bank accounts, and certainly don't look forward to finally getting that coveted festive sweater on Christmas morning, because come tomorrow, December 21st, it's over. Existence. Humanity. Life as we know it. No more morning coffees from the cute barista. No more long checkout lines at Walmart. No more Dick Clark New Years Eve specials.

No more anything.

Because look around you. Everything is aligned in a pattern that makes this so-called 'dooms day' inevitable.

Come on, now. We are in a world where Psy (I repeat...Psy) is the finest example of international icon. A world where blowhards like Lou Dobbs are handed mammoth platforms to spread their bullshit. A world where Lindsay Lohan, the universe's most destructive train wreck, has enough money under her coke-stained mattress to wipe out hunger and poverty.

And now that Manny Pacquiao has been knocked to the canvas and Sockington the Cat has accumulated nearly 1.5 million Twitter followers, the only thing that was formerly 'impossible' that hasn't come true yet is those darn Mayans being right about the end of days.

As for the 21st itself? It's the day that This is 40 will release, reminding us that Paul Rudd is happily employed and we aren't. It's the anniversary of Naismith's first basketball game, providing Stephen A. Smith with the grounds to utter the N-word on national television. And it's the day, 46 years ago, that Andy Dick escaped from his mother's womb directly into a Xanax addiction and mediocre acting career.

These recent sentiments of inexplicability can only be explained in the following fashion: They are signs, precursors perhaps, of our impending descent into the destructive demise of the human race. 

Adios.

Go Digital or Go Dark: Saving the Hollywood Theater

The iconic Hollywood Theater in Dormont is in danger of closing, and in order to stay open, they need a $75,000 digital projector. The solution can be found by utilizing independent media, specifically the concept of 'crowdfunding.'

For my final project in my Media and Society class, I explored this.

Watch, enjoy, and give feedback! It also wouldn't hurt to give a few dollars to the Hollywood Theater by visiting http://www.indiegogo.com/HollywoodGoDigitalOrGoDark.

Science Fiction

"Are you a virgin?"

"Yes."

I had to answer truthfully. You know, just in case Scarlet would ask me a followup question that would tear down my wall of lies.

She took a container of red lipstick and smeared a "V" across my forehead. In the background, I could see a man (or woman) dressed as an alien dancing to Joan Jett's "Bad Reputation." This was just seconds before Stamos sold us a bag of useless household items for $3.

Where the hell am I?

I had always known of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. It was one of those things that I was told "you have to see before you die." And with Frankenstorm right around the corner, why wait any longer?

So there we were: my dad and I at the Hollywood Theater at midnight. I was dressed in all black because I wanted to blend in. He, on the other hand, wore a light blue flannel. Color. He'll regret it, I thought.

But it turns out he had seen the movie with a live cast before, so he had nothing to worry about. As for me, I could only pray the humiliation wouldn't be too unbearable.

"Virgins, stand up. Come up to the stage."

....Here we go.

I felt like Ralphie in A Christmas Story waiting for his dad to come home and punish him for fighting Scut Farkus. What's going to happen to me? Please, have mercy.

Thankfully, Stamos had mercy (like Uncle Jessie. Get it?). The virgins had to bend over while cast and audience members spanked them. I only got it once. Some girl said she got it six times.

When the hazing was over, I walked shamefully back to the sixth row and sat down, hoping the embarrassment would go away. The initiation was finished, and after a few inappropriate chants and "Halloween dance parties," it was time.

"Start the f*cking movie," the auditorium chanted.

From "Science Fiction/Double Feature" to "Time Warp," members of the Junior Chamber of Commerce Players acted out every part. Every motion. Every song. Every heartbeat of Rocky.

Heck, they even did a scene on top of us. No joke. Literally. An actor, an actress, and the spotlights. On top of us.

Seriously, the production was unlike anything I had ever seen before. The crowd participation was unbelievable. There were some who knew all the words and all the pauses, and had probably seen the show over 100 times.

As for me, I've seen it once. I doubt I'll ever enter the theater for a hundredth time, but who knows?

Now that the "V" has washed off my forehead, I understand that seeing Rocky is an experience like no other. Thankfully, the kind people at the Hollywood Theater show it every other Saturday night at midnight.

I will be there this weekend, but this time, without my virginity.