Saw a Takashi Miike picture called The Great Yokai War. "Yokai" is a Japanese term for monsters from folklore, as opposed to the more familiar kaiju. It's a kids' picture, about a young boy from Tokyo sent out to live in the countryside with his older sister and his intermittently senile grandfather. When a vengeful spirit appears, the boy gets caught up in a war between warring groups of yokai and must find his courage to become the "Kirin Rider", the hero who will set everything to rights. It's not a bad picture - nothing deep, but an amusing story. Some of the yokai are really trippy, Japanese folklore can get pretty "out there", apparently.
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The point is that children should not be allowed into movie theaters. That and some people should not be allowed to have children.
I detest children. When people hear me say that, they chuckle and respond, "You don't really mean that." Yes, I do. I detest children. It's why the Good Mrs. Benson and I never had any children of our own. I inherited her son from a previous marriage, Rick, when he was twelve. Not ideal, but he was old enough to take direction and learn by example. And he turned out a man to be proud of. I miss him.
But raising a kid from scratch---forget it.
And children are worse to-day than they were twenty-five or fifty years ago. When my brother and I were little children, and our parents took us to a public venue, such as a restaurant or a movie theatre, they understood, as CK pointed out, that they had a responsibility to the other adults around us. If my brother or I started to act up, and didn't respond to one or two sharp rebukes (which was rare; we knew Mom and Dad meant business),then they snatched us up and left the place, abandoning the movie or their meals.
That doesn't happen, anymore. For one, parents to-day are just plain inconsiderate of those around them. But part of the reason is that they have become so inured to the misbehaviour of their children, it doesn't register with them.
As usual, I have two personal stories which illustrate the foregoing . . .
Thirty-five years ago, we were celebrating my father's seventieth birthday at the last house he'd shared with my mother. The home was full of friends and family. The children, however, were exiled to the upstairs rooms. One of these was my brother's oldest child, Alex, who was eight, at the time. The idea was banishing the kids to the upstairs would keep them from disrupting the conviviality downstairs. But it didn't work out that way.
The kids were so boisterous, yelling and screaming at the top of their lungs, and doing what they were doing to make loud thumping noises on the floor, that the adults below couldn't hold simple conversations. Three times, one of the mothers, including my then-sister-in-law, would go upstairs to hush the brats. They would be quiet for two or three minutes---five, at the most---then start up with their ruckus, again.
Finally, I stood up and announced, "I'll take care of this."
I can adopt a face. I've never seen it, of course. But it's one of cold, hard displeasure. Sometimes I'll use it when strangers call me by my first name, and I'll actually see a flicker of fear in their eyes. They know that, somehow, they've crossed a line they should not have.
I put this expression on when I went upstairs and confronted the children. Two of them were in an argument about something. "He won't play right!" one of them shouted to me. "Yes, I am!" shrieked the other.
In a low voice, but the coldest and hardest-edged voice I could summon, I replied "Shut the (and, aye, I used the F-word) up!" That got their attention; they went still immediately. "I'm not here to referee your stupid argument," I continued. "I'm here because we're tired of hearing your damn yelling and screaming and noise. You've ignored your mothers, but you won't ignore me---because I don't care about any of you. Your yelling, your screaming, your noise stops, now. If I have to come back up here"---and I pointed to one of the upstairs bedroom windows---"I'm tossing you all out of that window!"
My nephew Alex, the eight-year-old, looked at me with a goofy grin and chuckled, "You don't mean that."
I pointed at him and replied icily, "And I'll start with you." Alex's face went white and slack. The kids were deathly silent, and I went back downstairs.
"They'll be quiet, now," I reported to the other adults.
After twenty minutes of silence up above, a couple of the mothers ran upstairs to see what I had done to their little darlings. But it remained quiet above for the rest of the get-together.
The second story fast-forwards about six years. It was at my brother's house for a Christmas party. Again, the children were relegated to the upstairs. The boys in nephew Alex's room, and four little girls were with my niece Christina, who was nine at the time, in her room. There was no problem with noise this time---my brother had learnt how to raise children. The problem came at the end of the evening. It was late, and the guests were going home. The parents called for their kids. The boys trooped right down. But when the parents of the girls called for them, all they got was a response of "Just five minutes more" or "We're coming", when they obviously weren't.
After the third entreaty by the girls' parents was ignored, I stood up and said, "I'll handle this." The Good Mrs. Benson and I exchanged a knowing smile. I put "the face" on and marched upstairs and into Christina's room. The five girls immediately shouted "Just five minutes more!" and "Can't we stay a little longer?"
Again, with the brittle-hard voice and the "Shut the ___ up!" opening, I told the four visiting girls, "It's time for you to go home. You've ignored your parents, but you won't ignore me. Get your asses down those stairs, or"---I pointed toward the bedroom window---"I'll just throw you out that window."
In a redeux of six years earlier, Christina said, "You don't mean that."
"I guess I start with you," I told her coldly and took a step toward her. Suddenly, her four little house guests, shrieking in fear, ran out of the bedroom and downstairs to their waiting parents.
"That took care of it," I said as I descended the stairs.
"You realise," said the Good Mrs. Benson, "that those little girls will probably be traumatised for the rest of their lives."
Oh, yeah, like I cared.
While we were raising Rick, especially when he was younger, I often told the GMB that the first duty of a child is to obey his parents.
"I don't think Rick should have to obey us because we're bigger," she once replied.
"It's not because we're bigger," I told her. "It's because we're older and wiser. That's why nature, and society, puts the adults in charge of teaching the children the proper way to behave."
The Baron > Jeff of Earth-JJune 30, 2025 at 12:35pm
I think that it depends on the kid. Though I say so myself, when I was little and my parents or grandparents took me to the movies, circus, plays, sportsball games and so on, I sat quietly and did my best to make the most of the experience, because I knew that that was what one did in such situations. Of course, this may well have been due to the fact that I was a quiet child by nature, and that I had learned at an early age that my father and his father before him were not men who were possessed of inexhaustible reserves of patience and/or forbearance.
I wholeheartedly agree. Tracy is even more anti-child than I am. We are both committed to the ideal of living a childless child-free existence.
For one, parents to-day are just plain inconsiderate of those around them.
I purposely described yesterday's offenders as "an adult man with two children" because I didn't want to accept that he was their father. Perhaps he had kidnapped tham and ducked into a darkened theater to avoid pursuit.
But part of the reason is that they have become so inured to the misbehaviour of their children, it doesn't register with them.
I honestly think that was the case with the straw and empty cup, but that crawling across the extended footrests business was beyond the pale. I didn't mention that, at one point, one of the kids loudly announced,"I have to go potty!" On their way back, both the kids stomped up the stairs back to their seats.
I can adopt a face.
When I said the one kid "reclined all of the empty seats in our row" I should have specified that he stopped at the one next to mine because I shot him just such a look. I'm sure the man left early to avoid just such a look directed at him whem the house lights came up.
We have friends who are breeders and have dropped three kids. The middle girl is sweet (by accident, I assume), but the two boys are hellions. I don't like to criticize parents, but I make an exception for this couple. They have never (to my knowledge) disciplined any of their kids. (The girl didn't need it because she is naturally sweet.) I could fill this page with stories, believe me, but their is one in particular which stands out in my mind. One day we were on a nature outing, the seven of us. We were all in one vehicle. Tracy, the mother and the youngest child were sitting in the middle row of seats in the SUV. I don't remember what, exactly, caused this altercation, but the little darling picked up a cup with an once or two of melted ice which had been left in the car, and threw it in Tracy's face! (The kid was, maybe five years old at the time.) His excuse was, "I thought it was empty!" Sure he did. Even if that were true, that just doesn't fly! If that would have been me as a kid (not that I was ever that stupid), my dad would have pulled over and beat my butt on the spot. But Tracy and I decided to let the parents handle it. The father was driving and pretended he didn't "see" it. He made some "just wait until we get home" threats, but it was a fairly lengthy drive and they st opped for ice cream once we were in their neighborhood. I think a decent punishment would have been "no ice cream" (he really wanted it), but no, he threw water in my wife's face and was rewared with ice cream!
I don't know what our friends think of themselves as parents, but the one thing I will say about them is that they know their child-free friends (not just us) don't like hanging around with their kids. When they were little, they usually dropped them off at daycare when we came for a visit. Now the kids are in junior high and high school and are usually off doing their own thing... which is fine with us.
That and some people should not be allowed to have children.
Just to clarify, I meant in theory. I wasn't suggesting sterilization or anything like that.
That door swings both ways, my friend. I like very few people right off, but I liked you and Tracy that one time we met. All these years have clarified why. We are of similar minds on many things.
GODZILLA vs. BIOLLANTE: Tracy has been jonesing to see this movie for about a week now, ever since she saw a picture of Biollante on the internet and didn't remember it. As soon as it started, she turned into Peark Forrester. Her comment when it was over: "That was greatness."
Interesting. It's not a personal favorite, but at leat they tried something new. You'll notice that the next three Heisei movies brought back Ghidorah, Mothra and Mechagodzilla.
Heckler - This is a documentary by Jamie Kennedy, that stems from him reading reviews when he did the movie Son of the Mask. We see him and other comedians get heckled. Though to be fair I've never found any of Jamie Kennedy's funny. He inteveiws hecklers after the show, he interviews some of the critics who just killed Son of the Mask. Quite a few interviews. He also states that most modern critics are just hecklers behind a keyboard with a wider audience because of the internet. And that they spend more time attacking the performers personally instead. I thought it was pretty good.
Black Bag - Michael Fassenbender works for some British spy agency, when he is told there are 5 probably leaks, including his wife. He has one week to find out who it is. This was a very good little spy thriller.
Gasoline Alley - This is a low budget pretty straight forward mystery. An ex-con is being framed for the murder of some escorts, and he tries to solve the mystery. This "stars" Bruce Willis and Luke Wilson. I'm making an assumption here, but I think by the time this film was being made Willis was already affected by his illness. He was in very few scenes. One scene he had no lines, another he had one, and in another scene I think he only said "Yeah" about 4-5 times. Very skippable.
Replies
What he said.
The point is that children should not be allowed into movie theaters. That and some people should not be allowed to have children.
I detest children. When people hear me say that, they chuckle and respond, "You don't really mean that." Yes, I do. I detest children. It's why the Good Mrs. Benson and I never had any children of our own. I inherited her son from a previous marriage, Rick, when he was twelve. Not ideal, but he was old enough to take direction and learn by example. And he turned out a man to be proud of. I miss him.
But raising a kid from scratch---forget it.
And children are worse to-day than they were twenty-five or fifty years ago. When my brother and I were little children, and our parents took us to a public venue, such as a restaurant or a movie theatre, they understood, as CK pointed out, that they had a responsibility to the other adults around us. If my brother or I started to act up, and didn't respond to one or two sharp rebukes (which was rare; we knew Mom and Dad meant business),then they snatched us up and left the place, abandoning the movie or their meals.
That doesn't happen, anymore. For one, parents to-day are just plain inconsiderate of those around them. But part of the reason is that they have become so inured to the misbehaviour of their children, it doesn't register with them.
As usual, I have two personal stories which illustrate the foregoing . . .
Thirty-five years ago, we were celebrating my father's seventieth birthday at the last house he'd shared with my mother. The home was full of friends and family. The children, however, were exiled to the upstairs rooms. One of these was my brother's oldest child, Alex, who was eight, at the time. The idea was banishing the kids to the upstairs would keep them from disrupting the conviviality downstairs. But it didn't work out that way.
The kids were so boisterous, yelling and screaming at the top of their lungs, and doing what they were doing to make loud thumping noises on the floor, that the adults below couldn't hold simple conversations. Three times, one of the mothers, including my then-sister-in-law, would go upstairs to hush the brats. They would be quiet for two or three minutes---five, at the most---then start up with their ruckus, again.
Finally, I stood up and announced, "I'll take care of this."
I can adopt a face. I've never seen it, of course. But it's one of cold, hard displeasure. Sometimes I'll use it when strangers call me by my first name, and I'll actually see a flicker of fear in their eyes. They know that, somehow, they've crossed a line they should not have.
I put this expression on when I went upstairs and confronted the children. Two of them were in an argument about something. "He won't play right!" one of them shouted to me. "Yes, I am!" shrieked the other.
In a low voice, but the coldest and hardest-edged voice I could summon, I replied "Shut the (and, aye, I used the F-word) up!" That got their attention; they went still immediately. "I'm not here to referee your stupid argument," I continued. "I'm here because we're tired of hearing your damn yelling and screaming and noise. You've ignored your mothers, but you won't ignore me---because I don't care about any of you. Your yelling, your screaming, your noise stops, now. If I have to come back up here"---and I pointed to one of the upstairs bedroom windows---"I'm tossing you all out of that window!"
My nephew Alex, the eight-year-old, looked at me with a goofy grin and chuckled, "You don't mean that."
I pointed at him and replied icily, "And I'll start with you." Alex's face went white and slack. The kids were deathly silent, and I went back downstairs.
"They'll be quiet, now," I reported to the other adults.
After twenty minutes of silence up above, a couple of the mothers ran upstairs to see what I had done to their little darlings. But it remained quiet above for the rest of the get-together.
The second story fast-forwards about six years. It was at my brother's house for a Christmas party. Again, the children were relegated to the upstairs. The boys in nephew Alex's room, and four little girls were with my niece Christina, who was nine at the time, in her room. There was no problem with noise this time---my brother had learnt how to raise children. The problem came at the end of the evening. It was late, and the guests were going home. The parents called for their kids. The boys trooped right down. But when the parents of the girls called for them, all they got was a response of "Just five minutes more" or "We're coming", when they obviously weren't.
After the third entreaty by the girls' parents was ignored, I stood up and said, "I'll handle this." The Good Mrs. Benson and I exchanged a knowing smile. I put "the face" on and marched upstairs and into Christina's room. The five girls immediately shouted "Just five minutes more!" and "Can't we stay a little longer?"
Again, with the brittle-hard voice and the "Shut the ___ up!" opening, I told the four visiting girls, "It's time for you to go home. You've ignored your parents, but you won't ignore me. Get your asses down those stairs, or"---I pointed toward the bedroom window---"I'll just throw you out that window."
In a redeux of six years earlier, Christina said, "You don't mean that."
"I guess I start with you," I told her coldly and took a step toward her. Suddenly, her four little house guests, shrieking in fear, ran out of the bedroom and downstairs to their waiting parents.
"That took care of it," I said as I descended the stairs.
"You realise," said the Good Mrs. Benson, "that those little girls will probably be traumatised for the rest of their lives."
Oh, yeah, like I cared.
While we were raising Rick, especially when he was younger, I often told the GMB that the first duty of a child is to obey his parents.
"I don't think Rick should have to obey us because we're bigger," she once replied.
"It's not because we're bigger," I told her. "It's because we're older and wiser. That's why nature, and society, puts the adults in charge of teaching the children the proper way to behave."
I think that it depends on the kid. Though I say so myself, when I was little and my parents or grandparents took me to the movies, circus, plays, sportsball games and so on, I sat quietly and did my best to make the most of the experience, because I knew that that was what one did in such situations. Of course, this may well have been due to the fact that I was a quiet child by nature, and that I had learned at an early age that my father and his father before him were not men who were possessed of inexhaustible reserves of patience and/or forbearance.
Once again, Commander, you are my hero.
I detest children.
I wholeheartedly agree. Tracy is even more anti-child than I am. We are both committed to the ideal of living a childless child-free existence.
For one, parents to-day are just plain inconsiderate of those around them.
I purposely described yesterday's offenders as "an adult man with two children" because I didn't want to accept that he was their father. Perhaps he had kidnapped tham and ducked into a darkened theater to avoid pursuit.
But part of the reason is that they have become so inured to the misbehaviour of their children, it doesn't register with them.
I honestly think that was the case with the straw and empty cup, but that crawling across the extended footrests business was beyond the pale. I didn't mention that, at one point, one of the kids loudly announced,"I have to go potty!" On their way back, both the kids stomped up the stairs back to their seats.
I can adopt a face.
When I said the one kid "reclined all of the empty seats in our row" I should have specified that he stopped at the one next to mine because I shot him just such a look. I'm sure the man left early to avoid just such a look directed at him whem the house lights came up.
We have friends who are breeders and have dropped three kids. The middle girl is sweet (by accident, I assume), but the two boys are hellions. I don't like to criticize parents, but I make an exception for this couple. They have never (to my knowledge) disciplined any of their kids. (The girl didn't need it because she is naturally sweet.) I could fill this page with stories, believe me, but their is one in particular which stands out in my mind. One day we were on a nature outing, the seven of us. We were all in one vehicle. Tracy, the mother and the youngest child were sitting in the middle row of seats in the SUV. I don't remember what, exactly, caused this altercation, but the little darling picked up a cup with an once or two of melted ice which had been left in the car, and threw it in Tracy's face! (The kid was, maybe five years old at the time.) His excuse was, "I thought it was empty!" Sure he did. Even if that were true, that just doesn't fly! If that would have been me as a kid (not that I was ever that stupid), my dad would have pulled over and beat my butt on the spot. But Tracy and I decided to let the parents handle it. The father was driving and pretended he didn't "see" it. He made some "just wait until we get home" threats, but it was a fairly lengthy drive and they st opped for ice cream once we were in their neighborhood. I think a decent punishment would have been "no ice cream" (he really wanted it), but no, he threw water in my wife's face and was rewared with ice cream!
I don't know what our friends think of themselves as parents, but the one thing I will say about them is that they know their child-free friends (not just us) don't like hanging around with their kids. When they were little, they usually dropped them off at daycare when we came for a visit. Now the kids are in junior high and high school and are usually off doing their own thing... which is fine with us.
That and some people should not be allowed to have children.
Just to clarify, I meant in theory. I wasn't suggesting sterilization or anything like that.
Once again, Commander, you are my hero.
That door swings both ways, my friend. I like very few people right off, but I liked you and Tracy that one time we met. All these years have clarified why. We are of similar minds on many things.
GODZILLA vs. BIOLLANTE: Tracy has been jonesing to see this movie for about a week now, ever since she saw a picture of Biollante on the internet and didn't remember it. As soon as it started, she turned into Peark Forrester. Her comment when it was over: "That was greatness."
Interesting. It's not a personal favorite, but at leat they tried something new. You'll notice that the next three Heisei movies brought back Ghidorah, Mothra and Mechagodzilla.
I thought I had this movie duplicted on DVD, but I don't. We had to resort to VHS.
Heckler - This is a documentary by Jamie Kennedy, that stems from him reading reviews when he did the movie Son of the Mask. We see him and other comedians get heckled. Though to be fair I've never found any of Jamie Kennedy's funny. He inteveiws hecklers after the show, he interviews some of the critics who just killed Son of the Mask. Quite a few interviews. He also states that most modern critics are just hecklers behind a keyboard with a wider audience because of the internet. And that they spend more time attacking the performers personally instead. I thought it was pretty good.
Black Bag - Michael Fassenbender works for some British spy agency, when he is told there are 5 probably leaks, including his wife. He has one week to find out who it is. This was a very good little spy thriller.
Gasoline Alley - This is a low budget pretty straight forward mystery. An ex-con is being framed for the murder of some escorts, and he tries to solve the mystery. This "stars" Bruce Willis and Luke Wilson. I'm making an assumption here, but I think by the time this film was being made Willis was already affected by his illness. He was in very few scenes. One scene he had no lines, another he had one, and in another scene I think he only said "Yeah" about 4-5 times. Very skippable.
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