Oh Hell No

Day 68. 222 pages, 110,440 words.

(lifted from a recent Usenet post [of mine!] and repurposed for a lazy blog entry)

Mrs. Hatboy and I just finished watching Sharknado 3: Oh Hell No on Netflix. Don’t ask me why, I think the weird hilarity of the movies (yes, we watched 1 and 2 in the past year as well) is infectious and also Netflix makes it easy to watch something without paying[1], which lowers discernment. Or call it research into the Fergunak species and its possible development, that makes it sound better[2].

[1] As I think I’ve mentioned, we share an account (perfectly and totally legally) with my in-laws so somebody is paying. Just not us. I appreciate the Hell out of that, but I still occasionally squander it by watching Sharknado movies.

[2] There were actually sharks in space in this one, so … yeah.

Anyway, the third movie is set in Orlando, Florida[3], and features a bunch of sharks in an amusement park milieu. In one scene, some people watching a movie (that appeared to be about a three-headed shark?) are attacked by sharks that come flying out through the screen. One guy was George RR Martin.

[3] Also space. With David Hasselhoff.

I thought to myself, “wow, that really looked like George RR Martin, are they killing him in effigy?” – but no. According to IMDB it was actually him, as himself.

The movie also had Ann Coulter, Anthony Weiner, and Jared from Subway. So okay, my decision to watch the movie wasn’t particularly great … but Martin’s decision to be in the movie? Way worse.

Also, I had my phone out and was writing my book while I watched the movie with half an eye and listened with half an ear. Martin was clearly not writing his book during his death scene.

So that happened.

About Hatboy

I’m not often driven to introspection or reflection, but the question does come up sometimes. The big question. So big, there’s just no containing it within the puny boundaries of a single set of punctuationary bookends. Who are these mysterious and unsung heroes of obscurity and shadow? What is their origin story? Do they have a prequel trilogy? What are their secret identities? What are their public identities, for that matter? What are their powers? Their abilities? Their haunted pasts and troubled futures? Their modus operandi? Where do they live anyway, and when? What do they do for a living? Do they really have these fantastical adventures, or is it a dazzlingly intellectual and overwrought metaphor? Or is it perhaps a smug and post-modern sort of metaphor? Is it a plain stupid metaphor, hedged around with thick wads of plausible deniability, a soap bubble of illusory plot dependent upon readers who don’t dare question it for fear of looking foolish? A flight of fancy, having dozed off in front of the television during an episode of something suitably spaceship-oriented? Do they have a quest, a handler, a mission statement, a department-level development objective in five stages? I am Hatboy. https://hatboy.blog/2013/12/17/metalude-who-are-creepy-and-hatboy/
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1 Response to Oh Hell No

  1. aaronthepatriot says:

    Damnit I can’t even be inb4 yelling at Martin for not working on his fucking books.

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