You should see this movie. But before you do, I want to explain a few things. 2012 is by no means High Cinema, and anyone expecting such has no sense of humor and likely entertains themselves by jealously hoarding a stamp collection because of a particular misprint of the liberty bell that somewhat resembles a labia. This type of person should remove the stick from his rectum and realize that this movie is basically a cartoon, and a ridiculously exaggerated one.
Introduction In the decade I’ve experimented with cell phones, I have never owned a Samsung. One way or another, every time it was time to upgrade, it was Kyocera, LG, or Motorola which had better reception, a better interface, or some other functionality Samsung didn’t. Indeed, my last two phones were the Motorola RAZR v3c, and the Motorola RIZR Z6tv. Back then, my primary focus was reception and battery life. I still want these things, but my level of texting has risen to a point where I needed a keyboard, and virtual keyboards are, by and large, infuriating.
There comes a time when a movie comes along, that a man simply knows, deep within his soul, that nothing could ever eclipse its genius. Ninja Cheerleaders, my friends, is that very movie.
I knew I’d hit a goldmine when I saw George Takei listed in the credits, sure his unerring integrity was the only real endorsement David Presley’s script needed. Not only was I proven correct, but his portrayal of Hiroshi, sensei to the trio of cheerleaders, literally had me weeping, caught in the tremendous perfection this low-budget comedy deserves!
“Our opponent is an alien starship packed with atomic bombs,” I said. “We have a protractor.”
– Erasmas, Anathem
So, I’ve done a little light reading lately, and finished up Neal Stephenson’s Anathem–in my opinion, his best book thus far. It’s not nearly as slow as the [Baroque Cycle](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Baroque_Cycle_(novel)), nor as “conventional” as Cryptonomicon, yet remains as cripplingly cerebral. It’s just so engrossing, I couldn’t help but voraciously consume the adventures of Erasmas and the very concept of a “Math” in general.
So, I’ve started reading a highly amusing pseudo-manga titled Scott Pilgrim, and damn… how could I not like this? Seriously, this comic is some of the most innocent fun I’ve experienced excepting Excel Saga. But where Excel Saga was crack-induced insanity, the Scott Pilgrim series apparently derives its entertainment value from light-hearted hijinks gone awry–what Megatokyo started before it was fully engulfed by over-ambitious zeal. Read it, you won’t be disappointed!
