Posts Tagged ‘satire’

Abraham Pugg, Vampire Hunter

June 15, 2012

Abraham Pugg, Vampire Hunter

There is a new movie opening soon called Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter. Apparently Lincoln had a fairly unknown underlife as a vampire hunter while he was also championing the Union through it’s most difficult crisis in history.

Abraham Pugg, Vampire Hunter is my suggestion for the initial sequel in this new franchise film trunk, assuming that people buy into the original premise that John Wilkes Booth was nothing more than a hit man for the International Brotherhood of Bloodsucking Children of the Night.

In this sequel, Lincoln’s part alien Pug, Toby “Abraham” Pugg, picks up the challenge of carrying on the fight after his master falls to the hired assassin’s bullet on April 14, 1865.

When Abraham Pugg (Toby Pugg) gets wind of his master’s/best friend’s violent mortal wounding at Ford’s Theatre, he immediately dives through an open window at the White House for the long run over to Ford’s and the recovery house across the street where Abraham Lincoln lays dying. Unfortunately, Pugg is on the second floor when he makes the jump and is knocked unconscious for about ten minutes on the east lawn.

Revived by President Lincoln’s secretary, John Hay (Shia LaBeouf), Pugg scampers past every tree on the way as he scurries to Ford’s. After a quick trip through all the legs across the street to listen to the voices of hopeless desperation about his master’s impending demise, Pugg ambles back to Ford’s Theatre. At Ford’s, Pugg picks up what he can about the man identified  as Lincoln’s assailant, actor John Wilkes Booth (Johnny Depp).

Back on the street, Pugg sniffs the spring night Washington air as his ears also perk to hear the rumble of horses moving quickly toward the bridge that leads to Maryland. Pugg quickly deduces that it is the movement of troops in hot pursuit of the scoundrel Booth and he immediately heads that way too.

Once the trail leads to a farmhouse deep in Maryland, it is Pugg who sniffs out Booth and his traveling co-conspirator, the dim-witted David Herold (Sean Penn) hiding in the barn.

Herold surrenders, but Booth holds out to make his last stand. The siege is shortened when Pugg’s barking lures Booth into an abortive attempt at strangulation of the super canine, only to lean his body into firing range of a soldier named Boston Corbett (Matt Damon). Corbett gets off a shot to the neck that mortally wounds Booth. Like Lincoln before him, Booth experiences a lingering death that only completes itself with the dawning of a new day,

For his role in bringing Booth to anger’s quick justice, Abraham Pugg is taken back to Washington by the army and hailed as a national hero. No one in Washington ever learns that Pugg also speaks, writes, and understands every language in human history – nor do they learn that he also is the only son of Archimedes Pugg, who taught math to the Incas.

In a long and winding road from the Booth death moment, Pugg is cared for by a Washington conservancy from April 1865 forward, where he secretly carries out his will to continue the initial work of Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter. By the power of his magnetic intergalactic will, Pugg is able to get all kinds of help from Washington politicos. Only his personal manservant Albert (Arnold Schwarzenegger) knows of his true identity and powers – and the two often converse in the words that fit into Albert’s limited capacity for dialog. (When Arnold says, “I’ll be back!” in this movie, it’s usually because he has excused himself in mid-conversation with Pugg for the sake of consulting a dictionary.)

One day, a Hungarian actor named Bela Lugosi (Adrien Brody) drops in on Pugg to discuss the death of Booth. What happens from there is incredible, but, if you want to know more, you will have to wait and go see the movie. In the meanwhile, don’t discount the possibility that this film may likely morph into the first really great monster rock show since the iconic Rocky Horror.

The Code of the Baseball Cellar.

May 8, 2010

In a vineyard cellar, sweet grapes transform over time into fine wines. In a baseball cellar, bitter whines transform over time into sour grapes.

Fellow SABR member Bob Stevens sent me two interesting links yesterday to new articles on the unwritten codes of baseball. The first of these is a piece by Jerry Crasnick of ESPN.COM; the second is the work of Jason Turbow, who’s also written a new book on the subject that he is calls  “The Baseball Codes.” Both are entertaining and fun. Check ’em out:

http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/columns/story?columnist=crasnick_jerry&page=starting9/100505

http://sports.yahoo.com/mlb/blog/big_league_stew/post/The-Code-Ten-unwritten-baseball-rules-you-mig?urn=mlb,238853

These articles have inspired me to write a brief piece on the unwritten codes and truths that govern life for teams on their not-so-merry-ways to that residential place in the season standings we call the cellar. The first of these I’ve already written above as the caption to the vineyard cellar doors photo, but I shall repeat it here for the sake of putting all our storied eggs in one basket.

Ten Truths and Codes that Govern Everyday Life in Any MLB Division Cellar:

1) In a vineyard cellar, sweet grapes transform over time into fine wines. In a baseball cellar, bitter whines transform over time into sour grapes.

(2) Buyer’s Regret is a condition that multiplies exponentially for club owners and general managers of cellar-dwelling teams. If you have somewhere along the way signed a 200-pound outfielder to a multi-year contract to hit .300, but you now find him on the way to weighing 300 pounds, while hitting .200, you’re going to be much more aware of this inversely developing set of facts as a cellar-dweller.

(3) The players on your cellar-dwelling 25-man roster suffer from one of two immediately incurable conditions: They are either too young or two old.

(4) Over time, and it doesn’t take many losing streaks to get there, your cellar-dwelling players stop thinking of ways to win – and they start asking themselves in the field, by the second inning at the latest: “I wonder how we’re going to lose this one? All I can do is try to get my hits and stay out of the way of disaster. If I’m lucky, maybe they’ll trade me to a contender late in the season.”

(5) Your stalwart pitching ace may become disheartened by the absence of support over time and start thinking these kinds of thoughts prior to each start: “OK, I’ve got a chance to win, if I can keep the other team from scoring, if my defense only has to make routine plays, and if I can either pitch a whole game, or else, turn the ball over to the pen with no less than a four-run lead to protect.”

(6) The other clubs above the cellar dwellers all start looking more and more like the ’27 Yankees and you start hearing these kinds of comments off the cuff from some of the guys: “Uh-Oh! The Pirates are coming to town tonight. Hate to see it. They are starting to play us like we’re the eggs and they are the egg-beaters!”

(7) On cellar dwelling clubs, players start talking about post-season hunting and fishing plans by the First of June. Of course, in this instance, except for the Yankees, even the front-running clubs are doing the same thing. In New York, the players are talking more about their international business plans and how playing ball sometimes gets in the way of keeping an eye on their global industries and celebrity girl friends. Cellar dwelling club players don’t have celebrity girl friends – not for long, anyway.

(8) In homage to humility, cellar dwelling managers eventually get around to using something like a table of random numbers as a strategy for making out new lineup combinations. Eventually the goal of coming up with a winning lineup simply mutates into the challenge of finding a different lineup for every game that remains on the schedule from August 1st forward.

(9) By late August, cellar dwellers have figured out that they can finish last without the presence of any high-salaried players who remain on the roster. Anybody whose performance has not totally stunk is then traded as a cost-saving strategy for addressing the big and growing red-dollar deficit on the club’s profit and loss statement.

(10) Cellar dwellers eventually settle in to a nice quiet season play-out with their few remaining loyal fans who still attend games in person. These fans always show up, but they never boo, as was the case long ago with a famous cellar dwelling team we once knew as the St. Louis Browns before they moved to Baltimore and morphed into the Orioles in 1954.

”Our fans never booed us,” said former Browns pitching ace Ned Garver. “They wouldn’t dare boo us,” he added, “we outnumbered ‘em!”

Have a nice weekend, everybody, and stay away from the cellar, unless you’re going down there for some good wine.