I have a dream. That one day I can go to the theater, pay the $12+ to see a movie and be able to leave without more hate and resentment in my heart than usual. Most of us are pretty happy going into a theater until the price of the movie sours it, add on the fact that if you want to join the troff for food and drink while watching a film you are looking at more than doubling your costs right there. I will admit I am a cheap arse, but when it comes to watching a film you won’t find me eating dinner as well. I will enjoy a snack well before the picture, let the mash digest and even relieve myself before exiting the hoose. Why would I want to sit next to someone who’s bowels are making noises let alone if they are scarffing down popcorn whilst the holocaust takes place on screen. Did you know that food was banned from screenings of Schindlers list? Why don’t we ban it from all films, add on a few more dollars to the cost of tickets and I will be a happy chap.
There have been countless articles on the subject with ideas and solutions to the issues surrounding movie theaters. Noise, pirating, and recently with the holiday showings of Benjamin Button…gun violence! No more will a person be able to film a ninety minute movie on their cell phone, great. Sigh, I could care less about the little pishers on the bus watching TRANSFORMERS on their IPods. There is a more serious problem in our movie houses. A sickness many people have to ruin others good times. Most importantly mine.
You are the bloomin idiot who just sat and watched a “turn off your fucken phone” ad and yet that ringing in my ear is coming from your pocket. You are the person who takes that call, and blether to someone while others look on in disgust, but don’t say anything. Granted, once in a blue moon someone will muscle up the courage and talk to the tit, but more often than not, the culprits get off free. If your call is so important, why are you watching a movie today? Unless it is Mr. Yamagoochi saying the deal is going through, hang it up bessie.
These people who refuse to eat before going to a show, or the people who already ate but “it’s a movie, I need my M&M’s”. Fuck me. I can’t handle the chewing with your mouth open, licking fingers and crumpling of the bag beside me. It is bad enough you stink like wristwatch sweat, but when you eat from the troff, show some respect to those around you. Oh, and who’s bright idea was it to serve hot food in theaters? I am sitting by a guy with a medium pizza! Serenity now.
You are the person who strolls in late, stands at the bottom of darkness looking around for your friend whom you would sit by and not talk to right? You walk around bumping around in the dark like Helen Keller. What? I said you are a deaf blind American author. You are the person in the lobby looking up at the posters, not really sure what to see. Then why the hell are you here? It angers me to see ignorant people in my movie house for the sake of being there. So after the show they can pimp outside the doors and blow some smoke as they text their buddies to let them know they were the first ones to see the latest Hollywood offer. If you do not know what’s playing, chances are you shouldn’t be there. I would rather see a movie with one odd looking dude in the back row and have me in the front row worrying about being ass raped, then to have a white Sean Jean jacket wearing tool disrupt my viewing. Damn kids and their loud music, with their white shoes, compact discs, and ear piercings.
You are the parent who brings their bairns to a movie that is either way beyond the age limit or…wait a minute, case closed, why are you bringing your child to a movie? Couldn’t stay home and rent? Couldn’t get a babysitter? Or is it that you not only forgot the condom when you were 14 but you also forget that bringing a child into this worlds brings on great responsibilities and sadly, will bring some things in your life to a halt, like all night partying and yes, going to the movies every Friday night. Jings!
The time is now. People of the city, the world. Stand up; walk promptly over to the dick on the cell phone, the mother smothering her baby’s mouth, and the fat chops sucking back the burger and say “No more will you ruin my movie”. When this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every screen and every seat, from every state, province, and every city; we will be able to fast forward that day when all of cinemas children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old John McClain spiritual, “Yippee ki-ay, motherfucker!”
Days ago at the Oscars, god oh mighty not a minute went by without some slapper talking about Brad and Angie’s clothes or Beyonce’s tits being “voluptuous tonight”. The whole idea of fashion is a mystery to me. The hate begins with musicians I think, why is it that every so called artist grew up wanting to make music, movies, clothes, perfume, and eventually hearing aid commercials? They didn’t, they couldn’t have because of course they grew up wearing rags and finding food on the streets. Right? Well that’s what the E true Hollywood Story or their ghostwritten autobiography says.
