Beware Monday the 13th!

This morning I hit the snooze button.

Now there's a fucking pointless invention.

"I'm really fucking tired right now, but if I had, oh, I don't know, maybe... five... yeah... if I had just five more minutes to sleep THEN (and only then) I would feel completely refreshed."Has that ever happened to you? It's 9am (look, I know what you're thinking and you can shut the fuck up! I didn't wake up until 9am this morning, so what? I don't tell you how to live your life.) and your alarm goes off. You feel exhausted, you've never been more tired in your life (welcome to my day-to-day. Every day is worse than the last. 7, 8, 10, 13 hours of sleep, it doesn't matter, it still sucks to wake up). But wait! There is hope! With one clever movement of your arm, you hit a magic little button granting you five more minutes rest! Huzzah! You earned it, friend!

And it works! Five minutes later you wake up 100% rested, wandering why you even needed the silly snooze button before. Has this happened to you before? It has? You're seriously telling me you were dead tired at 9:00am, but at 9:05 you felt like a million euros?

Bullshit, sir or madam.

The snooze button makes less sense than SPEED. In fact, I would go as far as to say that it feels backwards that snooze buttons are reality and SPEED is fiction (maybe I exaggerate just a little. SPEED is total bullshit).

Who came up with 5 minutes as the industry standard for snooze alarms (ISSA for short), anyway?

"You know, Gary, after testing your invention for months, R&D (research and development for long) has come to the conclusion that four minutes is simply not enough sleep to feel 'fine and dandy', while six minutes is a grossly over-sized amount of sleep that has people feeling simply, for lack of a better word, much too 'rested', not being able to sleep again for months."

"Let's make the ISSA 5 minutes then, Reginald." I mean, God forbid I should sleep 7 extra minutes. Or 6 1/2. Or 3.

Does that make my snooze button a freak? Cause mine is 9 minutes. I don't want to be superficial or anything, but should I go looking for a more attractive snooze alarm? One that has the more conventional 5 instead of the larger and less appealing 9? I mean, I've been with my snooze alarm for going on 3 years now, but maybe it's time to call it quits.

"It's not you, it's me. I just can't go on sleeping for 9 extra minutes when the leading study shows that 5 minutes is the perfect amount."

And if 5 minutes makes little to no sense, then 9 minutes does make no sense. How did they come up with that one? At least 5 is a multiple of 5. 9? Whose ass was 9 pulled out of? My snooze button might as well be 6 1/2 minutes. Or 7 and 5/17ths.
Does anyone actually even sleep for those five minutes (or in my case 9)? I usually spend those extra, hard earned minutes dreading the reappearance of the shrill beeping alarm. Sure I sometimes get in a dream or two about showing up to school without pants (or showing up to sex with pants... that cannot be removed) but for the most part, I spend my extra time either watching the clock slowly tick away my sublime sleepy time and/or considering whether or not to hit the snooze alarm again so I can repeat the process.

So really, all I'm trying to say here is "What the fuck is the point of the snooze button?"

It doesn't make any sense. If I really wanted more sleep I would plan on my hitting the snooze alarm the next morning and would simply set my alarm for 5 (or 9) minutes later. That way it would be 5 (or 9) minutes of actual sleep, not just extra time in bed watching the clock.

It's really just a delay of the inevitable. So I guess, it's all a metaphor for life. So if the snooze button is a metaphor for life, is that enough to warrant it's existence?

Fuck no!

Fuck the snooze alarm. I hereby add it to my list of things I hate but still use on a semi-regular basis, joining the likes of COSTCO, McDonald's, and hookers.

The Shortest Genre Films Ever!

I'm a wannabe screenwriter. And I've been working out a lot (cause my Weight Loss Car is only in the 'prototype' [aka 'Blog'] stage). So since I'm spending a total of 3 hours a day either in the pool or on my bike, I've been thinking a lot. And since I'm a wannabe screenwriter I think a lot about movies. And there is something that just ain't right about 3 beloved genres. Something that makes no sense to me upon further review.

First, a wee bit of background for those of you who aren't screenwriters. Most fiction movies that aren't ultra realistic require the audience to suspend disbelief at least once in a real major way. By suspending disbelief just that once, audiences are rewarded with a story that makes since based on the one time they had to suspend their disbelief.

Examples.

Audiences suspend disbelief when they buy into the fact that when bitten by a radioactive spider, an ordinary teenage gets super strength and the ability to shoot sticky white goo from his wrists (though it's not the first time he has had sticky white goo on his hands if you catch my drift [I mean, who doesn't love roasting marshmallows by the fire?]). After audiences are willing to believe he has super powers, all the following scenes capitalize on this first suspension of disbelief, playing by these rules, not asking the audience to suspend disbelief again.

Smores are so delicious, it's worth getting sticky white goo everywhere!

Audiences suspend disbelief when they accept that there are giant robots from outer space that can become cars and trucks and such. After that it's just giant robots smashing each other as set up by the original suspension of disbelief.

Giant Robots from Outer Spacer - a small suspension of disbelief.

Audiences suspend disbelief when they are asked to believe that a total bad-ass like Kurt Russell can really settle down and coach a hockey team, after defeating identity stealing aliens in Antarctica. Likewise, they suspend disbelief when they are asked to believe a whiny pussy like that guy from New Kid's on the Block can get the drop on Matt Damon.

No way this bonafied-bad-ass could live a content life coaching hockey.

Now that the short screenwriting lesson is over, I can get to the heart of the issue.

I believe that one can apply suspension of disbelief to almost any ridiculous event they want (look at that wiggle room I give myself with the use of the word 'almost'), but it SHOULD NOT, would not, could not, be applied to explain character behavior. When you use suspension of disbelief to say "oh yeah, he'd totally act that way cause its a movie" when no person in their right mind would EVER act that way, that's not Suspension of Disbelief, that's sloppy mutha' fuckin' screenwriting!

And this sloppy screenwriting is why there are 3 genres that just don't make any since to me (That is how you bury your lead, ladies and gentlemen. I buried it so deep you'd be better off flying to china and attempting to dig it up than doing it stateside.)

First, the horror genre.Here's the scenario. You're in the woods. You see a creepy house. You're friend says 'Oooo, a creepy house, the same creepy house where those horny teens disappeared last week, let's go check it out!' In the movies a character's like 'Let's Scooby Dooby Doo the shit out of that creepy house even though it means we'll most likely get chopped to bits by a guy with a chain saw and/or axe!' In real life, any person with half a brain would be like, 'Fuck that creepy house. Let's go to Quizno's for an oven toasted sub for under $10.'

The horror genre would not exist if it weren't for sloppy screenwriting. If these scripts were written with characters who acted realistically, they'd just be 30 minute films introducing the characters, showing them having to make a decision about whether or not to enter a death trap, and then having them make the decision to go home instead, with a quick stop to Quiznos on the way. Sure they'd be a waste of money and the least popular genre in Hollywood, but they'd make more sense God-Damn-It!

I'm a sheriff on a small island and there's a shark eating beachgoers. Do I go onto a small boat, out on the ocean, to face the shark like a man? Fuck this shit! I'm moving back to New York!I'm offered a trip to an island where a mad scientist has created Dinosaurs from DNA found in prehistoric mosquitoes. You have velicorapters and T-Rexs? Fuck this shit! I'm going back to digging up dead dinos that can't eat me.
For Christ sake, I've never had sex cause I know that slashers in masks go after the slutty, sex crazed teens first (and that's the only reason I've never had sex. I swear).

I ain't being hacked to death with a machete any time soon!

Next genre that makes no sense... The Fantasy Genre!

Here's the scenario. I'm a regular guy, living a regular life in the real world. A talking animal comes to me, telling me I'm the rightful king of a fantasy realm that exists through a magic doorway. It's not really important what the animal is, it could be an elf like in Harry Potter or a talking frog or mole or something.

Talking mole complete with adorable suspenders and sharp pick axe.

In the fantasy genre, the protagonist undergoes a few moments of disbelief and then buys into the creature's story, being whisked off to a kingdom full of magic and wonderment. And sure, the audience will suspend their own disbelief at the sight of a talking animal. But how can we ask them to suspend disbelief again when the person says, "alright mole, lets go to Terianzibithia." I ask you, the reader, in the real world, at what point does an ordinary person accept that an animal is speaking English in order to cordially invite you into a parallel universe.

This isn't a "gee whiz, maybe the mole is telling the truth" moment. This is an Earth-shattering experience that brings everything you hold to be self evident into question. I propose that in the real world, a normal person can NEVER reach that point where they follow the mole into the magical sewage pipe to Terianzibithia.

If a mole ever talks to me, my thought process would be as follows...

'Jesus-titty-fucking-Christ! Has it finally happened? Have I finally gone fucking insane? That mole is fucking talking! It's happened, I've finally gone fucking insane! I can't live a life where fucking moles fucking talk to me! Fuck!'

Being a proud member of the NRA, I would then withdraw my Colt Detective Special, put two slugs between the eyes of the demon mole, and then blow off my own fucking head.

Again, such a change to the fantasy genre makes for a pretty short film that would be meant for an older audience (suicide ain't for the kiddies).

I have biggest beef of all with the final genre. This is absolutely, without a doubt, the least realistic genre ever, and audiences should be insulted that a writer tried to pull this one on them.

I'm talking of course about the 'bus-that-can't-slow-down-below-50-miles-an-hour-in-LA' genre. The most popular movie from this genre being SPEED.

Who the fuck made this movie? The writer, director, producers, and everyone involved should not only have their movie licenses revoked, but they should all be taken out behind Warner Bros and shot.

I buy that the power of god comes out of a little gold box and kills Nazis. I don't question it when a billionaire builds a suit that weighs a couple hundred pounds and yet can fly without wings. But there is no way in fucking hell that I believe a bus can even accelerate to 50, let alone maintain it for an entire act, in Los Angeles, the city with the worst traffic in the US.

Did the filmmakers really think people would just sit back and buy this impossible suspension of disbelief? Did not one person raise their hand and say, "Our premise makes no sense" on the set?

Seriously, I can't remember the last time I was able to go above 50 on the highway. And you're telling me this bus not only got up to 50, it maintained it for 40 minutes, going many many miles on the LA highway system?

I call bullshit on that one, Hollywood. Pure, unadulterated bullshit.

SPEED should be 10 minutes long. Keanu finds out there is a bomb on the bus that gets activated when the bus goes over 50. Keanu smiles and shrugs, he knows that the bomb will never get activated because the bus will never get over 20 miles an hour because of LA traffic. And if for some reason the bus does reach 50, the movie is still over quick, because it will immediately get stuck in traffic, causing it to slow below 50, blowing it to smithereens!

Believable SPEED

There, I fixed 3 broken genres. They may not be better movies, but at least I'm not distracted by unbelievable scenarios anymore. With ideas like mine, it's a wonder I'm not being paid the big bucks to write Hollywood spectacles.