This Is The Future They Promised Us

Back when I grew up hoping for a jet pack and a flying car someday, this is the kind of stuff NASA was supposed to be working towards.

(h/t Solomon at SNAFU )

Now, if you want to see the NASA that isn't, you have to watch The Martian.

If you want to go to space, you'll be flying with Blue Origin, Virgin, or SpaceX.

Surprising no one, private industry is drinking NASA's milkshake.
And near-space tourism is going to bankroll the steps beyond Tranquility Base.
I hope I live long enough to see it happen.
And if I can swing it, I'm going to space on one of those rides.
F*** Six Flags. This is the real deal.

SPECTRE

 

 

Call the ASPCA.

Somewhere in Hollywood, there's a pooch who should be submitting a rape kit, because it was well and truly screwed.

Sam Mendes has done what even Roger Moore playing the part in his 60s couldn't accomplish: he made 007 boring, and turned him into a blooming metrosexual in the process. If it gets any worse in subsequent outings, Q will have to start supplying 007 with tampons for his mangina.
 

It's many of the locales, some of the toys, a few of the cars, and all the set pieces you'd expect. And all done so predictably, so lackluster, so abjectly suspenseless, so just plain yawnworthy, that at 148 minutes long, you wonder why they didn't just turn the cameras on and leave everything in, because the outtakes would have been at least as entertaining as the actual movie. Two villians got away lucky: one had his eyes poked out, and another had them eaten by ravens. I would trade places with either one if you told me I had to sit through this flick again.
 

An hour in, I was wishing they'd go back and play some of the pre-movie trailers again.
Two hours in, I was wondering what was playing on the Oxygen Channel. And wishing I'd brought a sleep mask and a set of ear plugs to the movie.
The only bright shining moment of the entire flick was after the interminable credits, the promise in the final seconds that "JAMES BOND WILL RETURN".
Which will be great compared to this time, just for the change.
The sad part was noting that he made no noticeable appearance in this film.

Stay home, wait for Netflix, or even wait for this to show up on cable.
Which, if word of mouth has anything to do with things, should be the day after Thanksgiving.

My rating: Jiggle the handle on this one, and light a candle to St. Fartius, and hope neither the solid evidence nor the smell from this flick lingers.

But somewhere, Michael Apted is happy: With the release of SPECTRE, he no longer holds the bottom rung of the Bond-verse with The World Is Not Enough. But it was close. The last time I felt this bad after seeing a movie I expected to like was after Star Trek: Nemesis.

Sam Mendes did that POS Jarhead. Now he's plopped this pantload out. If there's a fund to stop him from making any more movies, put me down for a month's pay.

Turns Out He Can't Do Stand Up Comedy Either

What we heard on the internet yesterday:

What we saw in our mind's eye when we heard it:

Inside word has it that President Liston is not amused, and the cleat wounds into his own wedding tackle may take some weeks to heal properly.
Dr. Carson is rumored to have offered him some salt to apply topically.

 

Beep beep, President Hopey Dopey.