Archive | December, 2013

Shockingly Finite, Part Fourteen: A Piece Of The World Is Missing

31 Dec

Welcome back to Shockingly Finite, our multi-part analysis of Bioshock: Infinite! And yes, I AM writing this when everyone is out celebrating New Year’s Eve. Don’t worry, it only gets really depressing if I stop drinking.


PREVIOUSLYON SHOCKINGLY FINITEOur gunsmith, the key to getting the airship back from Daisy “The Revolution Will Not Be Simplified, And Neither Will The Plot” Fitzroy, has been ferreted away under the Good Time club. All we have to do is go downstairs, and everything will be fantastic!

(Like, literally, fantastic.)


After playing through the parts of the fight that didn’t get caught in the auto-save (and isn’t that always fun), Elizabeth and I head backstage, only to find an “employee’s only” door. 

“Uh oh, it says ’employee’s only’, guess we can’t go, Elizabeth!”

“… Really?”

“No. Fuck this door.”

“Not literally, Elizabeth, and it really worries me that I have to say that.”

Once on the other side, we begin the descent in to the prison. (Yes, the prison is located under the theatre, and try to tell me that isn’t symbolism.) And of course, the first thing we hear is one of the guards trying to convince his female partner to, ahem, ride his skyline, so to speak.

[Editor’s Note: You’re terrible.]

Just try and stop me, little man! Try and stop me!

In accordance of the cartoon laws of karma, the man is the first to die with a swift *BRAM* to the head, and as for the woman, I simply smack her with the hookdrill!

… Which causes her to go flying… through the wall.

“Booker, what the fuck was that?!”

“Either Columbia was built on an Indian burial ground, something is causing reality to warp and distend around us… or I just bitch slapped Kitty Pryde.”

“Or possibly all three.”

I shrug my shoulders, and head to the door forward. And naturally, it’s held shut with a massive golden lock, in accordance to Comstock’s “Fuck Subtlety” initiative. Fortunately, Elizabeth had “a lot of time alone in that tower” (shudder), so I just ask her to-

“I can’t do that, Booker.”

“… Why not? Did you end up stuffing the lockpicks somewhere very inconvenient? Because, hey, I’m pretty sure we can just wash them off-”

“I can’t pick a lock when I’m in combat!”

“What combat? Do you mean the corpses- oh lord.”

I turn to the wall the guard fell through.

“You mean… she’s still alive?”


“And we can’t get through the door until she’s dead?”

“Also yep.”

“And I still can’t shoot through a wall?”

“Three guesses to what my answer is.”




This is the second angriest I’ve ever been at a wall.

“Okay, so, I need to get her out of a wall. Any ideas, Elizabeth?”

“Shoot it?”

“It’s a fucking wall, Elizabeth, I’m pretty sure I can’t shoot it in to submission.”

“… Gonna try it anyway, huh.”


Despite attempting to riddle the wall with *BRAMS*, nothing happens. (Not entirely sure what I expected, really.) But just to be sure, I tried Murder Of Crows and Shock Jockey, just to nail the point home.

“Okay, I know this is going to sound crazy, but hold still.”

“What are you doing with that hookdrill?”

“I’m gonna smack you in to the wall, see whether or not you can pull her out.”


“Don’t worry, it’s completely safe!”

“No, it isn’t!”

“Well, of course not, but you’re not supposed to KNOW that! Hold still!”

“Wait wait wait! Even if it works, I wouldn’t be able to get out myself!”

“See, I considered that, but I realized that getting to smack you upside your head would be pretty therapeutic, so I decided to go along with it.”



“… Are you in the wall yet?”

“N- nOoOoOoOo…”

“One- more- time!”

“Not the face!”


“Have you fallen through the riff yet?”

P- please stop…”

“What’s that? Couldn’t hear you!”


“… A- a- all of a sudden, I don’t have a problem with opening that door any more…”

“Somehow, I knew you wouldn’t!”

Any plan that involves the gratuitous beating of Elizabeth can’t be all bad!

A Man Walks In To A Bar

30 Dec

A man walks in to a bar.

He realizes he’s caught in a permutation of a joke.

He tries to leave.

There’s no room in the joke to allow him to leave.

He does so anyway.

Space and time fracture and split.

Reality is burnt across every single dimension.

A fixed point in time has been irrevocably destroyed.

We don’t have a bar any more.

Erik Versus Spambots Versus My Seven Evil Ex’s

29 Dec

I wonder, could I get a spambot to write this site instead? Just sit on my ass with Molly the Sentient Spam Filter as the bots write the dick jokes for me? Ah… what a dream…

Do you think I could get Molly in to a bikini?

Remind me to give her a promotion.

Anyway! Where was I? Oh, right! Spambots!


I’m impressed, I must say. Really rarely do I come across a blog that’s the two educative and entertaining, and without a doubt, you have struck the toenail on the go. 

… “Struck the toenail”? I’m sorry, am I a writer, or a one man crusade against crocs?

If you are involved in the construction industry, manufacturing, agriculture, food and beverage, mining or automotive industry, screw compressors are probably a regular tool that you use.

Pssh, your mom is a regular tool that I use!

*sassy finger snap*

I would also accept “Screw (compressors) yourself”.

A hacked website could kill your business

True, true, but I’m pretty sure “not having a business” hurts my business way more.

Woah! I’m гeally enjoying the template/theme of thiѕ website. It’ѕ simple, yet effeсtive. A lot of times it’s very hard to get that “perfect balance” between user friendliness and visual appeal. I muѕt say you have done a superb job with this. Additionally, the blog loads super quick for me on Internet explorer. Outstanding Blog!

Aww, you’re so sweet! Gosh, I think I’m blushing! You’re so nice and kind and-


Did that say… “internet explorer”?


Could it be just me or does it look like like a few of these responses look as if they are left by brain dead folks 

Hmm, that would explain why nobody actually comments. Come on, people, fess up, how many of you don’t actually have a brain?

I was looking for a Scarecrow for the whole “If I only had a brain” schtick, and I found this instead, and I think we can all agree that this is a marked improvement.

A pperson can personally visit her in her flat and allow her become the perfect host

… Who’s flat? Who is ‘her’? Who’s ‘the perfect host’?

Where’s the body, spambots.

15 Reasons Canada is always a lot better than your country As a guide none regarding going to be the Cracked bloggers talk at great length and width about themsel- 

Wait wait wait wait. Okay, I’m cutting you off, because… who the fuck decided to send me ‘Canadian/’ fan fiction?

Goddammit, Swaim.

Oooh, ‘Dan O’Brian/Canada’ slash fic. MAKE IT HAPPEN, INTERNET.

Omegle, Lightning Round!

28 Dec

Come on, you degenerate motherfuckers, let’s rock! I’ve only got 20 minutes to find Omegle questions and insult them so let’s go, go, go!


`I have penishphobia is that bad?

No, as long as you make sure to gather each and every penis you come across. A knife is usually helpful in that regard.

I got my gf pregnant and I want her to get an abortion(offered to pay for it) but she doesn’t want one and I don’t want to take care of the baby btw I’m only a senior in high school

Hmm. Have you tried switching to hot gay sex?

Well. Either that, or open a portal through time and fuck yourself out of existence.

What do you call a 5 year old with no friends? A Sandy Hook survivor

What do you call a jackass over Omegle? You call him an ambulance because I just pulled his heart out through the monitor.

Who gets the last piece of pie?

Whoever can unhinge their jaw and swallow everyone else in the room whole.

Honest: Would you date a chubby girl?

Pssh, girl? I’ll stick with trans-dimensional sexuality constructs, thank you very much!

praise jesus

What, I have to PRAISE him? Can’t I just send him some palm band-aids and call it a day?

“I’d also appreciate a new hat.”

best song to buy on itunes?

The Serene Sounds Of Orphans Being Raped By Steam Engines (part one of twelve).

my mom calls my uncle boo what does that mean. .. BTW he is her best friend. another BTW she is married is she cheating yes or no

… I’m pretty sure that just means your uncle is a ghost.

I’m so sorry you had to find out this way.


This is the second worst blind date ever.

Shockingly Finite, Part Thirteen: Theatre Is Dead

27 Dec

Welcome back to Shockingly Finite, our multi-part analysis of Bioshock: Infinite! And, come on, people! It’s Shockingly Finite! Fie – Night! Not fin – it! Get it straight!


PREVIOUSLYON SHOCKINGLY FINITE: A member of the rebel alliance stole my airship, and unfortunately, she refuses to respect the universal law of ‘Finders, Keepers’. She’ll give it back, but only if Elizabeth and I head down to Finkton and hire a racial stereotype!


With the Handyman’s corpse rapidly cooling at my feet and my erection rapidly wilting in my pants, Elizabeth starts to apologize.

“I’m sorry about what I said at the docks… calling you a thug.”

“Gee, thanks. Would be a bit nicer, of course, if you were to apologize for trying to fucking kill me.”

“Give me a break, I’m new at this.”

“Admitting your character flaws?”


After darting past of a couple of turrets, I find my way to the Good Luck club, where the gunsmith was taken. And according to the sign out front, “BOOKER DEWITT AUDITION TODAY!”.

Thanks for that.

We enter the club, and after a blood soaked robot invites me in (ooh, sounds like my kind of club), Fink chimes in over the intercom. “Ah, DeWitt, my boy! You know, the best kind of interview is one where the applicant doesn’t know he’s being evaluated!”

“Yeah, and the best kind of boot is the one up your ass. Your point?”

“Now now, my boy! I’ve watched you since the other day at the lottery! You’re a brute, and a times like this, I could use a brute!”

“Wait, you’ve been watching me since the lottery? … So, what did Elizabeth do to my unconscious body?”

“Well, my boy, she reached in to your pants, and-”


(These pants, to be specific.)

“Okay, what the hell do you want, Fink?”

“Heh heh, civil unrest it coming! Fitzroy has got the jungle all riled up. A man like me could have use of an old Pinkerton like you…

“… Please don’t say it like that, it makes my butthole pucker with the appropriate amount of apprehension.”

Once in the club portion of the Good Times club, we see bars, tables, multiple stories, Tears, and of course, a big stage. Said big stage then has a gigantic screen with Fink’s face lowered over it. “Now now, DeWitt, you should finish what you started! Our first candidate is a veteran of Peking! What’s that they say about old soldiers, heh heh?”

“Good god, stop laughing at your own jokes, you’re worse than I am.”

“Quite frankly, my money’s on you! He’s something of an old hand at handling explosives! Only man I know who hasn’t- heh, heh- lost a limb working with them!”


The spot light shines on the stage, and the curtains part, revealing a battalion of soldiers and a Fireman. Well. Either that, or Fink just bribed a theatre full of drama students.

“Whoever kills DeWitt gets the theatre budget! 2 dollars should do, right?”

Fortunately for me, the drama students are well versed in the art of acting like I just blew their fucking heads off, including the Fireman, who takes twice as many headshots as the Patriots take. Well, apparently having a helmet not made out of porcelain is a good idea! Who knew!

After mopping up the blood and guts (not literally, of course, unless the brain is a gut), Fink cuts in, and it’s time for round two! “This next young go getter is a former devotee of Lay-dee Comstock, but without the old gal, they don’t quite know what to do with themselves!”

“… My god, you just made the Fraternity Of The Raven sound like a clingy ex-boyfriend.”


“So they already had hollow bones! They didn’t need help sounding completely fucking useless!”

Birdboy flies in, and- oh my god, I just realized, he’s trying to kill me with a damn sword. What, couldn’t you find a nice shoe to hit me with? Maybe a lollipop? Harsh words?

The vague disapproval of a small kitten?

After somehow managing to kill a man with hollow bones trying to hit me with a sharpened piece of metal, Fink calls in again. “Now! Enough of the opening acts! Your true rival is an expert with the automata… Wants to replace all our security with machines!”

“… GLaDOS?”

The big present boxes on stage opens, and the robotic stage hands come out: Two turrets, two flying turrets, and a robotic Ben Franklin. And, just like the last time I went to go see RENT, the entire stage is riddled in corpses in a manner of minutes!

(I’m really not a fan of “One Song Glory”.)

“Congratulations, Mr. DeWitt! You get the job!”

“Oh, please. I want that job like I want Elizabeth: Only if held at gunpoint, poisoned, with a noose around my neck.”


“Bite me, Elizabeth. Now, give me Chen Lin!”

“Oh, Chen Lin? Yeeeeeah… good luck with that!”

And with that, the screen goes blank.

“Well. That’s certainly not ominous.”

The Good Time Club: Surely nothing bad will happen here, right?



Freshly Riffed 61: This Is It, Boys, This Is War

26 Dec

Welcome back to Freshly Riffed, the only web series written by elven cobblers after night… and a couple of casks of rum.

“Jesus Fucking CHRIST, these shoes are fucking me over tonight. Hey- hey- hey, hand me more Titania juice.”

According to the pit of poisonous snakes I hid under the bathroom, Freshly Riffed is where I make fun of the titles of Freshly Pressed blog posts. Also, it makes pooping REALLY exciting.

Each title will be linked to the original author, and remember; All mockery is for mockery’s sake only.


What Happens When One Of Your Coworkers Dies

There is immediately a massive land war to conquer his cubical, the desk is burnt as an offering to the gods, and the widow starts wearing his skin as a disguise.

When Angry, Draw Guinea Pigs

When horny, draw… Tor Johnson? 

Yeah, that fits.

Smug Has A Short Lifespan

But sarcasm lasts forever.

I Know More About My Son Than A Report Card Could Ever Tell Me

Man, having psychic powers is just the BALLS.

Hey Jezebel — Virginity Is A Social Construct

One second, gonna google ‘Jezebel’ so I can think of a snappy comeback.

Um. Hi, I guess.

Am I Racist If I Dream Of A White Christmas?

Only if the elves are wearing white hoods.

Another Day, Another Shooter

Gosh, everybody is just so cheery on WordPress!

My First Knife, Or, “Don’t Cut Your Finger Off”

“Go for the WANG, that’s clearly the safest option!”

An Open Letter To The Lost

I dunno, I’ve tried it, but my DVD collection never reads them.

*buh dum tsh*

Excising The Cancerous Relationship: Be Careful Of The Company You Choose

Oooh, “excising the cancerous relationship”! I should write that down, I have an ex-girlfriend who really needs to hear that!

Am I An Adult? (Can Not Be Determined At This Time)

There’s only one way to find out! NURSE! GET THE AUTOPSY BUCKET!

I… Live… AGAIN!

25 Dec

[Editor’s Note: … Erik? Eriiiiik? Where are you?]

Check under the cardboard boxes.

[Editor’s Note: Do I want to know why you’re under there?]

Because the cat was already under the tree and she’s not sharing.

[Editor’s Note: Duly noted. What are you doing here on Christmas? Don’t you have some kind of holiday parties to go to? Family? It’s the time of hope on earth and goodwill towards men!]

Yeah, but I have to write my post today!

[Editor’s Note: But-]

Is it not my sworn duty to write a post, every single day, regardless of sleet or rain or storm or porn?

[Editor’s Note: Well, normally, but-]

And if I forsake my duty, then who will it fall to! You? Tim Hurley? That hobo at the bus stop who challenges my opinions? Tell me!

[Editor’s Note: Look, you asshole, I’m trying to tell you-]


[Editor’s Note: … ]

Anyway, you were saying?

[Editor’s Note: I was saying that nobody actually reads your website on Christmas Day.]

… Fuck.

The Twelfth Day Of Regretmas: The Final Countdown

24 Dec

“Twelve”. What a strange word. Look at it. Just look at it. “Twelve”. “Tweeeeeelve”. Twelve, twelve, twelve, twelve.

TWELVE. TwElVe. Twelve. Twelve! TWELVEEEEE.

Twelve twelve twelve twelve.


Anyway, happy 700th post.

Now that we’re finally done with “The Twelve Days Of Regretmas”, I can honestly say that if anyone ever suggests something like that ever again, I am going to punch them in the wang. (Women will also be punched in the wang.)

Couple things I’ve learned during the course of Regretmas: Trying to write 12 feature length posts in a row without repeating myself is the quickest way to accidentally taking up self harm, bar discovering that you used 2 hours of your life watching Spring Breakers.

And no, I’m not reviewing this. YOU DON’T PAY ME ENOUGH.

Second Thing Learned: Reviewing Life Of Deaths got me simultaneously revered and insulted. So, either I need to review the next episode… or torch YouTube, salt the earth, and run screaming.

Numero Threeso: … That’s a word, right?

Don’t check that.


You’re not invited to my birthday party any more.

Anyway, NUMBER THREE! I cannot rhyme. Rhyming is not a thing. Not any more. I’ve destroyed it. I took the concept of rhyming, and I broke it. With a rock. And incompetence. And a sharknado. All at once. An incompetent rocksharknado of rhyming.

(And also, evidently, basic sentence structure was caught in that clusterfuck as well.)

Number Four: Silent Hill needs to be in this site more. Murphy Pendleton and I are going to get very, very acquainted very, very soon.

That sounded more rapey than I intended.

And everyone knows it’s SUNDERLAND who people rape! … What, nobody?

Number five: Trying to add in GIFs causes my entire site to meltdown. To which I am blaming… well, pretty much anyone who isn’t me.

And finally… I’ve learnt that I should never schedule my 700th post on Christmas Eve! So, I’m calling this a wrap!

Merry Christmas, motherfuckers!

The Eleventh Day Of Regretmas: ‘White’ Movie Review, Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying About Plot and Love the KPop

23 Dec

[Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to announce our very first guest post, written by the incredibly talented Tim Hurley of theXBLIG fame!]

My first thought after The Strange Erik harassed me into doing a guest post on A Very Strange Place was ‘Wow, somebody’s getting lazy. Have to take some time off from your busy schedule of ridiculing people’s blog titles and posting your terrible attempts at fiction? Jesus, being a teenager these days must be really hard, all of that awesome energy of youth, with no responsibilities, no accountability, and free room and board. Sure, I’ll take some of my precious free time out of being a grown adult with adult problems and write your post for the day. Oh, it’s the holidays, too? Sure, I don’t need to enjoy the vacation away from work, or spend time with my loved ones.’ I wasn’t going to say that in an email, of course; I’m not a dick. Rather, I said, ‘Sure, I’d love to write an article. I’m not that busy at all. You and your site are fantastic, and it’d totally be an honor to write for such a prestigious cornerstone of the web.’ See, much more friendly, and I butter him up with feigned sincerity.

[… I’m sorry, did I say “incredible talented”? I meant “master of bite me”.]

No, really it is an honor, and a bit of digital maintenance at the year’s end. As I spend a good amount of time reviewing indie games, this allows me to actually sit down for once and watch a movie. Too bad it’s not a better pick. Taking a page from Erik’s well-honed style of reviewing Horror movies (i.e. bitching about every little thing), I perused my massive queue of Asian Horror films on Netflix, and have selected one for a roasting. What follows may or may not be painful for all involved (though not as painful as watching it, I assure you), as I slowly regurgitate the plot and relevant bits on the page, hopefully in a way that is slightly amusing. To help, I’ll sprinkle in as many flippant ‘fucks’ and ‘shits’ that I can. Here we go.

You should probably ask your doctor about the ‘bleeding eyes’ thing. Also ask why you have a doppelganger. That ain’t good.

You should probably ask your doctor about the ‘bleeding eyes’ thing. Also ask why you have a doppelganger. That ain’t good.

I picked 2011’s White: The Melody of the Curse, a Korean horror flick from the Directors’ Kim. Although it’s been languishing unwatched on my Netflix account for awhile, it combines two of my most favorite things ever— disposable but nonetheless catchy Korean pop music, and cute girls being all cute (Aegyo! Aegyo!), which is really cute.

Oh, and also cheap scares that rip off wholesale from other horror films, not-so-shocking plot twists, whole sections of nonsensical dialog, and a nebulous villain / ghost. On the plus side, it stars Eunjung from real KPop group T-ara (other KPop groups / members make an appearance as well). She looks great with big fluffy animal paws, and I would gladly watch two hours of her shopping for groceries or running odd errands, so a movie with an actual narrative couldn’t be that bad, right? Eh, love makes you do dumb things. Like watch dull-to-bad-then-back-to-dull movies.

Several cute animals were harmed in the making of that outfit.

Several cute animals were harmed in the making of that outfit.

‘White’ opens with a music show performance by struggling girl group Pink Dolls. And by ‘struggling’, I mean they’re fucking terrible. No one knows how to dance, the song choice is horrid, and all of the girls, save for our prototypical protagonist Eun-ju, seem generally disinterested. Surprise, surprise, they lose out to a rival group, ‘Pure’. Shunned by a fickle music fanbase that picks its favorites and argues vehemently against newcomers or less popular groups, the girls are forced to start from scratch in an attempt to rebuild their image. In other, less eloquent words, they need to stop being so shitty.

To reward their embarrassing performance and abject failure as group, their Company and Sponsor (AKA Rich guy that sleeps with the younger talent; kinda like Korea’s version of the Casting Couch) gives the girls a swanky new music studio / dance hall / apartment complex. Yeah, it’s pretty great. Which seems… counterproductive. They have to be thinking, ‘So… we fail miserably, and we get an awesome upgrade in both living and working conditions? Tell us again why we should get better?’ Then again, said swanky studio was built on the ruins of another studio that housed a girl group, which burned to the ground in a mysterious fire and killed a lot of beautiful people. I’m sure this particular bit of bad news won’t be integral to the story, just coincidence, and this new place shouldn’t have any bad vibes, or poltergeists, or skeletons in the closet, or ghosts, or dark secrets, at all. Probably.

Or, cue spooky shit happening on day one. Eun-ju and the girls find an old VHS tape, showing an unknown group performing an also-unknown song, named, you guessed it, ‘White’. Hmm, a grainy VHS video that is the downfall of everyone that takes a part in it after watching it? Like, say, ‘The Ring’? And before that, ‘Ringu’? There’s even a creepy girl with long white hair that loves obscuring her face, and can seemingly ‘leave’ the video and manifest in the real world. So, a Korean film borrowing from an American film that originally stole from a Japanese film that’s based on a novel that copied from a Japanese folk story? Ah, the circle of intellectual property piracy is complete.

Sticking with the theme of stealing things that aren’t theirs, Pink Dolls’ management team decides that because they found a creepy VHS tape with a catchy chorus and no one they knew was in it, they should totally adapt the song and dance for themselves and peddle it to the ignorant masses. ‘Just another group that didn’t make it’, they say, which makes you wonder how many creepy KPop VHS tapes are floating around South Korea just waiting to be found…

Well, I guess that explains this.

Anyway, the new version of ‘White’ is a hit, and with the requisite foreshadowing out of the way, it’s about that time when the movie sets up who is going to die first. And the movie just kinda says fuck it, we don’t need character development or nuanced performances, we’re just going to start throwing girls to the malevolent ghost that’s haunting our building. Although she’s the eldest, Eun-ju is the moral compass of the group at the start, the virginal, perpetual do-gooder type, while the rest, Je-ni, Ah-rang, and Shin-ji, are vain, hair-pulling, backstabbing, egotistical hags. Wow, way to tow that grey character line, guys. One guess as to who will -not- be the first to die.

You... you are correct.

You… you are correct.

Though competition in KPop, as in life, is serious fucking business. Everyone wants to be a star. And if someone needs to have their makeup replaced with poison, or have their medication spiked, in order for another girl to rise to the top of the heap… well, that’s not attempted murder and questionable morals, that’s just a good work ethic. And because every song needs a ‘face’ to sell it, naturally each girl in the group but Eun-ju thinks she should be the ‘main’, the ‘I’ in ’team’, if you will. Sheesh, triflin’ hoes be forgetting there is no ‘I’ in ‘team’.
I in Team


Though it’s probably important to mention that ‘White’ is cursed, and anyone that sings the lead vocals tends to meet a tragic end. But bah, minor technicality, we didn’t know that at the start, and the side effect of death only applies to a select few, and besides, you only live once. #YOLO, amirite? So the girls push and shove and seize the day. Needless to say, this being a horror film and all, each girl that takes the lead part is picked off one by one, suffering some kind of bizarre illness or injury.

The first girl, Je-ni, goes down after OD-ing on a herbal drink and hanging herself by a microphone cord, which, oddly enough, is my typical Saturday evening (don’t ask for details; you don’t need that mental picture, trust me). It hasn’t killed me yet, or the girl in the movie, so I totally recommend it!

With Je-ni in the hospital, the new ‘main’ goes to Ah-rang. She’s convinced someone is poisoning her eye makeup (this despite alluding to the fact that she may or may not have poisoned Je-ni’s medication), leading to an infection that leaves her looking less than… fresh, let’s say. Still, they move ahead with filming a new music video for ‘White’. During the shoot, Ah-rang sees visions of the girl with white hair, and suddenly starts bleeding from her eyes and onto the stage, while a hand comes out of the back of her wig to gouge out her already-bleeding and already-infected eyes, which seems kind of excessive. Then again, jump scares and bleeding from any available orifice is kind of this movie’s thang. This Ju-on, this ghost, or this VHS-chick ghost, has a serious ‘The Grudge’ to settle, I think.

Eun-ju notes this disturbing turn of events, and enlists her friend to drop all responsibilities and her work schedule look into the history of the building and the people that died in the fire, because the song lyrics relating to all things ‘hot’, and the girls profusely sweating all the time, may in fact have something to do with that terrible history. It took a little while (and two group members going down) to figure out, but at least someone here has their shit wired correctly. Her and Eun-Ju identify one of the victims, Ye-Bin Jang, as the girl in the mysterious video, and the one that most likely started the fire as part of an elaborate suicide / sabotage. They surmise she is the one behind these new attacks, and the true author of the song ‘White’, a trapped spirit hell-bent on revenge.

And really, it’s some decent detective-ing work. They inexplicably know that they should take out, rearrange, and loop clips of the old VHS video to form hidden meanings and lyrics. Because, yeah. Eun-ju also knows to visit the group’s website and message boards, where someone (who and how and why is never explained) is uploading unflattering videos of the group, digitally-altered clips where their faces appear disfigured, similar to the girl in white. Accompanied by cryptic messages, this serves to lay down the obvious ‘Hey Eun-ju, click me for plot points’ clues for her to follow up on.

Meanwhile, the third girl, Shin-Ji, assumes the once-again-open role of the ‘main’, and is asked to participate in a horror-themed show (oh the irony!) in order to promote the group and its ‘hot’ new song. She also has visions of the girl in white while filming, and gets her hair caught in a camera crane, then is hoisted into the air and paraded around the plaza before finally being dropped and smashed by said crane. Ouch! And it looks ‘ouch!’ too. Amazingly, (but not really a surprise, by this point), she doesn’t die either, raising the film’s present body count to a big fat zero. What the hell kind of almost-horror movie is this?

More importantly, given the rather gruesome pseudo-demise of the group’s members, you’d think Pink Dolls’ management team would be all like, ‘Hey, maybe we should cool it with all the ‘White’ promotion.’, seeing as how things are getting pretty out of hand, pretty damn quickly. Nope, they press on, even when they’re down to one member (can you even technically still call yourself a ‘group’ with one person?)

With Eun-ju as the only girl left standing, she knows that she needs to find out what happened to Ye-Bin in the past before she’s the next to… almost-die. So, she does what any young, pretty girl would do— she immediately goes and sleeps with her company’s boss, because, well… that’s how investigative work is done in the music world, I guess. Through this ‘investigation’, she once again inexplicably ‘knows’ to dig up the floor in the dance studio, where she finds a suicide note and puts the last few pieces of the puzzle together. She learns that Ye-Bin was the brains in her particular group, writing and choreographing the song ‘White’, that would’ve made them famous. Ye-Bin was bullied by the other girls out of jealously, though, and they slashed her face to permanently disfigure her. Her career ruined, she committed suicide by starting a fire in the studio and burning down the building, hoping that her song would remain hers and die with her. Which it kinda did, until Eun-ju dug it up. Way to go, Eun-ju.

So, after some sexy time, mystery solved, all’s well that ends well, except for Ye-Bin, who ended up well-done. That’s ‘cooking humor’, for you folks slow to catch on. Ahem. Now that Eun-ju has laid Jang Ye-Bin’s spirit to rest and slept with her boss (all in a day’s work, I say), her solo career takes off, re-launching ‘White’ and dyeing her hair to match Ye-Bin’s hair at the time of her death, which is… kinda fucked up, considering you literally just visited the girl’s grave to supposedly get some closure. Now you’re wearing her hair style, changing your name to ‘White’, and claiming you wrote her song and choreography all by yourself? That’s just cold, girl.

Once again, ‘White’ takes off, climbing the charts and plastering Eun-ju’s… sorry, White’s… face all over the magazines and internet… Screw it, I’m going to keep calling her Eun-ju for the sake of clarity. And shit, what do you know, the curse surrouding the song ‘White’ hasn’t been lifted after all. Didn’t see that coming.

The three former members of ‘Pink Dolls’ have recovered from their not-so-catastrophic injuries and become MCs just in time to not wish Eun-ju good luck with her career. To celebrate themselves getting out of the hospital, they read some barely-freaky text on a teleprompter, and immediately down a whole bottle of chemicals between them, bleeding out and dying on the stage of a live TV broadcast! Shit, these girls survive horrible circumstances that would kill any other character in a movie or real life, become miracles of modern medicine, and then they just drink bleach and call it a day!? Talk about an underwhelming way to go. Not to mention how pissed the doctors that saved their lives have to be. All that complex surgery and expensive treatment. That’s got to feel like one big middle finger to the health care system. It’s no wonder our premiums are so high! (shakes fist at the air) ‘Damn you, KPop!’

A trio of suicides on live television can’t stand in the way of pop music progress, though, and Eun-ju’s van continues on its way to another music show filming nearby, the big one that will cement her place in the industry, should she beat out that pesky rival group, ‘Pure’. And sure, Eun-ju’s face is sweating like a pig in a bacon shop, sure, she’s hallucinating, and sure, three of her former bandmates just really-died, and maybe there’s this whole unresolved issue of who died in the fire, and who actually wrote the song, and is Ye-Bin a ghost, is Eun-ju a ghost, hell, am I a ghost?… so on and so on, but the movie doesn’t care. It just plows its convoluted van right into a convoluted ending… for the next twenty-five minutes.

Eun-ju’s friend, the only one with any sort of sense left, realizes that the curse is not over. She once again picks apart the old VHS, rearranging clips until she’s convinced that Eun-ju is probably in mortal danger if she sings that song today, as if ALL of the previous events and deaths didn’t allow her to come to that conclusion beforehand. She takes off on her bike, hoping to reach the show and stop Eun-ju from performing. Guess what, a ‘bike’ is not the ideal vehicle to get you places in a hurry, and she’s already destined to show up too late to stop the inevitable.

Cut to Eun-ju, arriving at the venue. She gets ready for her performance, then chooses now, of all times, to reflect on her career choices, thinking maybe that assuming the identity of a dead girl that committed suicide to protect the song that Eun-ju now claims as her own… was probably not the best decision. Yeah, curses just don’t ‘go away’ like that, especially when you goad them into fucking with you by basically spitting in their curse-y face. Eun-ju, this is not one of your better moments, girlfriend.

But, the show must go on. ‘White’ beats out the girls in ‘Pure’ to claim the top spot, and Eun-ju has to perform the song as a sort of victory lap. The familiar music starts up, the performance begins, and then… all sorts of predictable hell breaks loose.

The curse manifests itself in human form, and almost everyone in the room realizes that some spooky shit is about to go down. Extra people don’t normally just materialize on-stage during the show. As if on cue, the lights go off in the studio, and hundreds of schoolgirls in the audience rush for the exits, trampling others as they go. The spirit begins to enact its revenge on all the remaining people that were ever involved with ‘White’. Eun-ju’s boss gets smashed a heavy rack, her manager gets her face melted off by stage pyrotechnics, and Eun-ju herself is run over by the ensuing schoolgirl hordes as she tries to escape the girl with white hair. The ‘bad, ghost girl with white hair’ version. Close-up on Eun-ju as she’s stomped to death for the whole world to see, and…

Jesus, this film got dark once the third act kicked in. I need a warm blanket and my mother to tell me it’s all going to be okay.

So, what does it all mean? Turns out Ye-Bin’s supposed sob-story was a ruse, she was the bad girl after all, and the ‘ghost’ was the backup dancer that Ye-Bin bullied into committing suicide. Why did this girl decide to wait ten years and then come back to kill mostly-innocent people that had nothing to do with her suffering at the time? Well, she did it because she’s vengeful, and it’s a dig at the Korean music scene and its pressures and superficiality, and because I don’t know. That’s why. And the storyline agrees. After a short denouement with Eun-ju’s friend, one that assures us the song ‘White’ will play on and probably kill a lot more people for no reason whatsoever, the movie simply ends.

In summation, I’m sure it’s a little more complicated than that, and there’s other points that are brought up and get addressed, but I’m not going back to watch it again. ‘White’ certainly isn’t the worse horror movie I’ve seen (that’s why the Syfy channel exists). Hell, it’s basically standard as far as Horror goes, pulling out all the typical scare tactics and copy-then-paste plots. So don’t worry, Eunjung. Your movie certainly dragged on longer than it had to, and settled its accounts messily, but you’re still my girl. Well, Top 10 at least.

[There we go, a round of applause for Mr. Hurley! Thank you so much, and thanks for… filling my computer with GIFs of Korean women. Dammit, now my family thinks I have a problem.]

The Tenth Day Of Regretmas: Just Getting Meta

22 Dec

On the tenth day of Regretmas, my true love gave to me:

What was I thinking,

Found footage gameplay,

A horrible idea,

Horror two parters,

Foggy town o’ monsters,

Storm of rhy-ming sharks!


I’m such a dick,

Lasers and love,

And the first post that you’ve ev – er seen!

Oh god.

Oh god, what was I thinking.

A post, a big, serious, “can’t just halfass it and write a Freshly Riffed or Omegle” post.

In Christmas.

Fucking Christmas.

All the shopping.

And 700th post on Christmas Eve.

Oh god.

Need a break.

Gimme a break.

All of the breaks.

What’s even going on.