There are plenty of spoilers in this, but Jurassic World is part of a franchise that just grossed over $1 Billion worldwide, so if you haven’t seen the movie, what do you think happens in the end, the humans survive or the dinosaurs kill everyone?
In Jurassic World, geneticists engineer a super dinosaur, the Indominus Rex, which breaks out of its cage and goes on a killing spree. Not only is the beast nearly indestructible, but it’s also smarter than your average dinosaur. And by average dinosaur I mean, of course, the ABC sitcom Dinosaurs. Indominus Rex sets traps for her victims, digs out her tracking device, hides from people and outsmarts enemies. Indominus Rex even talks to the other dinosaurs, and not in a casual chit-chat, “How are the kids,” kind of way, but about doing some additional damage.
The most frustrating part of Jurassic World is they have this super smart dinosaur, one that’s completely unstoppable. She’s the greatest enemy the world has ever seen, and the Indominus Rex goes on to commit the exact same mistake made by Adolph Hitler on the Eastern Front of World War Two.
In 1941, Nazi Germany controls almost the entire European continent. France, Poland, Belgium and the Netherlands have all fallen and have puppet governments controlled by the Nazis. Spain and Italy are allies. Great Britain is holding on by a thread and the U.S. hasn’t entered the war yet. In Jurassic World, the Indominus Rex kills everything in sight, outsmarts her captors and is virtually indestructible. They’re both at the height of their power.
Hitler has hardly any threat to his empire in 1941. England is struggling to stay alive and can’t muster a credible counter-attack. The United States is wary of entering the war in Europe. The only country that can pose any sort of opposition is the Soviet Union. But Hitler already put a plan in place to keep them at bay. Hitler avoids a two-front war by signing the German-Soviet Nonaggression Pact (officially the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, for you Nazi-Soviet Paleontologists out there).
This is where the Indominus Rex stands after making a truce with the raptors at the midpoint of Jurassic World. The dinosaur has zero enemies, total control of the island and there’s no way for the humans to mount a credible counter-attack without blowing up everyone on the island at a tremendous loss of life.
Hitler and the Indominus Rex proceed to make the exact same mistake. It’s not so much that Hitler breaks the German-Soviet non-aggression treaty, but that the Nazis do so with brutal violence killing everything in their path. And then just a few decades later the bad dinosaur makes the exact same mistake as Hitler. When are these dinosaurs going to learn?
When the Nazis invade the area that’s now Ukraine in 1941, Hitler actually gets greeted with fanfare in parts of the country. Some of the inhabitants see Hitler as a potential savior from Joseph Stalin. When Indominus Rex breaks out of her cage and wreaks havoc on Jurassic World, I’m sure there are a couple dinosaurs who are happy. There must be a few who think they’ll be freed from the life of captivity created by humans. Humans create these animals in theme parks just to hold them in tiny cages. The other dinosaurs are like, “Yeah she’s pretty evil, but she can’t be any worse than the humans, right?”
This is where Hitler and Indominus Rex make the same colossal mistake. Hitler’s great error on the Eastern Front has nothing to do with dividing his forces, or ignoring the advice of his generals, or putting too much focus on Stalingrad or Leningrad. No, Hitler’s biggest mistake is that he violently suppresses and murders people who could be used as allies.
If Hitler decides to embrace and help the people on the Eastern Front who see him as a liberator from Stalin, rather than murder them all, Hitler wins World War Two. He would double his ranks, turn everyone in Eastern Europe against the Soviet Union and negotiate with the United States and Great Britain to keep all his new territory and win the Second World War.
That’s all Indominus Rex needs to do to win Jurassic World. She just has to negotiate with the velociraptors and stegosauruses and pterodactyls by saying, “Y’know, if you team up with me, we can run this joint and never have to deal with evil humans again. Those humans cooked us up in labs just to keep us in cages all our lives. Then they Instagram pictures of us for their Facebook feeds. C’mon, whattya say, you and me, let’s work together.”
That’s it. If the Indominus Rex says that to a single velociraptor, they win the movie. The dinosaurs just need to team up to take on the greater enemy – humans – and the movie is over. But the dinosaur doesn’t do that. Instead, Indominus Rex follows Hitler’s example to the same disastrous result because history always repeats itself.
Both Hitler and the Indominus Rex introduce unparalleled brutality in their respective regions. This makes people, and other dinosaurs, think Stalin isn’t that bad in comparison and team up to take down Hitler/Indominus Rex. They combat evil with even more evil and they’re only defeated with an unprecedented level of destruction. It all could’ve been avoided with a little bit of kindness, but instead the havoc brings their own respective downfalls.
If Indominus Rex wanted to learn from Hitler, rather than make the same mistake, the dinosaur would’ve changed strategies at her high point. The lesson is that if you ever get to the point in life where you control most of the world or island and you’re that close to winning everything, make allies with your terrified enemies when you hold all the cards. Otherwise you’ll just be another in a long line of sequels.
Most people spend their free time at work getting distracted by Internet videos. Whether you spend your down time at the office looking at cute cats, skateboard crashes or hardcore pornography, the Internet is there for all of us. When my soul is wasting away at a day job, I find solace in watching videos of happy North Koreans.
It’s mostly out of jealousy. Here I am, trapped in front of a computer for 40 hours a week, yet there is an entire nation full of people who have no choice but to cheer with joy. There is no other option for them in life. Whenever someone says the names Kim Jong-il or Kim Jong-un, it’s like the secret word on Pee-Wee’s Playhouse: everyone goes ape-shit. If they don’t, they’ll die, which is an enviously easy choice.
North Koreans aren’t dragged down by the trappings of middle age in America. They don’t have mid-life crises, identity issues or career setbacks. They are happy or they’re dead. Who wouldn’t want that? I have the same conversations every time I walk into work: “How was your weekend?;” “What’s new with the family?;” “It’s almost Friday!” Do you think North Koreans care about any of that sort of drab crap? Hell no. When I watch them on YouTube, their conversations look amazing. “I’m so happy because I love Kim Jong-un!” “I’m even happier than you!” “Oh my God, we’re all so happy!”
North Korean videos make it look like the entire population consists of teeny-boppers who got backstage at a Justin Beiber concert. They are crying with joy at the sight of their leader. That’s how happy they are. We don’t cry for joy over anything in this country anymore. Can you imagine if we rallied around our President the way they do? We wouldn’t have Fox News or the Westboro Baptist Church. We’d have organizations like the I Love the President So Much Club getting into fights with the I Love Him More Than You Society.
North Koreans storm into the water to chase after Kim Jong-un because he makes them so happy. If I spill a drop of water on my shirt at work, the day is ruined. They give him hour-long standing ovations. They march in unison. They sprint and dance and sing and cheer. We write political blogs.
Can you imagine how much more pleasant Fox News would be if we were all as happy as North Koreans? “Y’know what I think? I think the President is doing a perfect job.” “I agree with you.” And then instead of a mindless 24-hour news program that digs for the whisper of a story to sensationalize, the TV could go black and we’d have to be outside like those joyous North Koreans.
I know your first thought is they don’t have any choice. Well doesn’t that sound nicer than waking up every day and having to figure out how to be happy all over again? I’d love it if my options in life were to be happy or die. It would be such a nice motivator. They are happy around the clock and it fills me with envy. And if they’re not happy then they’re dead. They don’t have to see therapists or get in touch with their feelings or go on retreats. They can just be happy or not be around anymore. In America we can pursue happiness and we usually come up short. In North Korea? One hundred percent happiness.
So whatever Kim Jong-un is doing, keep it up. Not only does he have a flawless approval rating at home and a national press that has his back. He also has an ardent supporter across the pond. One who watches the North Korean leader’s devoted followers every day and wishes for the day that he can be as happy as them.
Week in review summary for October 17, 2011 – October 23, 2011. Muammar Gaddafi killed, exotic animals set lose, Republican debates, Real World casting and more.
In the 1970s there were three television channels: CBS, NBC and ABC. If you had a show on the air, take an average episode of M*A*S*H for example, you would pull in a bare minimum of twenty million viewers. There weren’t a lot of choices and nobody cared. People didn’t pine for a thousand channels of premium on-demand with a third of the channels requiring you to call your subscriber and another third in Spanish. With all the specific choices and divisions, things have gotten a lot more complicated. I feel like racism has faced the same kind of transformation. It is harder than ever for racists to be politically correct.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not saying that racism is good. What I’m getting at is that if you are racist, which in addition to being a bad thing, must be tremendously difficult if you want to be accurate. There are so many different ethnic minorities, cultural niches and divided sects that make it really difficult to pinpoint the minority group you are trying to degrade.
If you are going to be racist, you want to be politically correct about it, otherwise racists will miss their intended target. Because every community has their own day of pride, or a parade or a national holiday recognized in their American enclave, you want to make sure that you are talking about the right people. If you are trying to be racist against Haitians, is remarkably easy to confuse them with Dominicans, a group that you might not harbor any racist feelings against. If you are trying to be racist against a Puerto Rican, but confuse him for a Mexican, then you look like an uneducated and insensitive bigot. And that’s just Central America and the Caribbean. Read more
Many people are quick to label America the best country in the world, and there was something about this grand proclamation that struck a cord that I finally placed. It is exactly when loser fans of high-spending winning teams say that their team is the best in the world, yet the fans themselves have never done anything in their lives but cheer on real winners.
America might be the Yankees, Celtics and Steelers, but Americans are the fans of the Yankees, Celtics and Steelers. A bunch of loud and overweight chest-thumping losers who failed to live up to the potential of top players on the field. Instead, we question the decisions of leaders and pick fights with rivals. Read more
The unrest sparked in Tunisia that has spread across North Africa and the Middle East is on the precipice of changing the way that the Arab world sees tits. For decades, autocratic rulers have held all the power when it comes to viewing tits and now citizens are taking to the streets to protest.
Whether you blame the Islamic Revolutions of the 1970s, the partitioning of the region by the Allied Powers after World War II or go all the way back to the Middle Ages, the accessibility of viewing tits in the Middle East has always been a privilege of the powerful. Human rights have been stripped in ways that burqas have not and autocratic regimes with militaristic leaders have ruled with an iron fist.
As revolution spreads, we see that all across the region, ordinary people are uniting en masse for their right to see tits, ta-tas, boobies, bozongas, however it is pronounced throughout the Arab world. It is time for modernity and these governments have seen that their people will fight equal access to a free press, speech and due process to all work in conjunction to show tits.
First Tunisia was like, “This is ridiculous. I think we should do something about not seeing tits.” Then Egypt was like, “That’s a really good idea.” So then Egypt overthrew their leader, which sparked similar outrages in Bahrain, Iran and Yemen.
However, as we now see in Libya, leaders like Gaddafi are more willing to spread blood than to allow citizens the right to see tits. Hundreds of innocent Libyans have perished in the struggle and we can’t let their deaths be in vain. Do your part and demand that these leaders allow their citizens the access that all humans deserve: to see all of humans. They have cut off access to the Internet, they have shut down Twitter and Facebook. All we can receive are snippets of the tragedy occurring.
It is the duty of women throughout the western world to get images of their tits into Libya by any means possible. Whether it is through social media (just tag these images #Libya so that only people in Libya will click the link), through codes, secure servers or air lifting leaflets of topless pictures, it is all of our responsibility to free your bras for the freedom of the oppressed.
As we are seeing occur right now in the Middle East and Northern Africa, both citizens and unjust rulers are willing to march, protest and fight to see tits that have been held only by those in power. Show us your tits and I will show you a revolution.
It seems important to start this post by clarifying I have several other qualms with Adolph Hitler. This is, by far, pretty low on the list of annoying things Hitler did in his lifetime, and given the opportunity to remark upon his record, this would not carry the same magnitude as a couple other of his decisions. But, really, doesn’t the whole labeling of the Japanese as “Honorary Aryans” seem like the catty declaration of a twelve-year-old?
It is exactly like one of those things where a kid starts a club, rules out a large swath of people, then realizes someone in that group has something the kid needs and he backtracks. What does the kid do? On one hand, you can make friends, possibly share something from your lunch box and invite the person over to play Wii. On the other hand, you can invade Poland.
Clearly kids like this don’t think through their exclusive clubs, alliances and treehouses. They accidentally rule out someone who has the latest version of Modern Warfare, or is currently engaging the United States in the Asian theater of modern warfare. Then they need to backpedal and come up with some dumb excuse to let that guy into the club. Something like, “You’re an honorary member of the club.” It’s just so happens that this particular treehouse happened to be Nazi Germany.
This is the problem I have with what Hitler did. It’s not the fact that he murdered millions of ethnic minorities, although I certainly don’t approve. It’s that he went about selecting who not to kill in a very childish manner. Own up to it, Adolph. You could have said, “Well, the Japanese aren’t as pure as the Germans, but you also don’t like the Soviets, so let’s work together.” Instead, Hitler said, “Here’s a special badge I made out of construction paper so that you can be the exception to my club house.”
It is wrong to exclude people from your club, regardless of whether you meet in a treehouse, grove of pine needles or the Führerbunker. It is then the decisive move of an asshole to murder anyone who you deem to not be racially or ethnically fit to belong in your club. You would think that exclusion would be good enough, you don’t then have to extend your reach across all of Europe’s middle schools.
This makes Hitler the biggest dick of all the fifth grade bullies the world has ever known. Whether he was taking the lunch money of Ukrainians or laying siege to millions of Russians so that he could stick their heads into toilets, he didn’t have to go so far as to saying one group of excluded people were “Honorary members.” It is inconsistent of a bully and makes him seem weak while playing cruel mind games on other less popular minorities who want honorary membership as well.
We can remark upon how unfair and murderous Hitler’s treehouse club was. Hopefully it has made us all better people and we can all live harmoniously in a loving treehouse where everyone is equal and accepted, except for those who are stopped by the sign that proudly proclaims, “No girls allowed.”
And Civil War is just ahead on the sixty-five year horizon. Imagine if all thirteen colonies had to agree on whether or not to have kids. Sure you could sweep the issue under the table for a little while, but eventually it will erupt in a total war that has its true roots edited in Texas textbooks.
I can completely understand the argument on both sides of the case. In the no-kids column, they’re a bunch of smelly, sticky, ungrateful money pits who ruin your plans for the next twenty years of your life. They ignore you from ages twelve through seventeen, then talk to you so that they can ask for money after that. Then they leave you alone without so much as a thanks for their existence.
In the argument in favor of having kids, it gives people something to talk about. I guess. I don’t really know.
And slavery is much the same thing. You’re trapped, at the mercy of a belligerent master who needs constant coddling and attention and the analogy works a little more accurately if the kid is white. Or if you want to dress said child in cotton.
It would appear, at first, that the logical solution is to count children as three-fifths of a person, much as one would do to their prospective slave. People who don’t want kids don’t want other people’s children screwing the number of representatives in the house, but people who do have children want to count them as real to give themselves a purpose in life.
Yet it never solves the real issue that can only be conducted in a true civil war between the two battling parties. Both sides think that they are the righteous ones doing Gods work in an all-out war between the states over whether or not to have kids because the problem was never solved in the first place. The three-fifths measure, along with the Missouri Compromise – to have kids in Missouri provided that they’re banned in Maine – were temporary stopgaps on the path to Civil War.
Then you get into a serious debate within the original war, which the South faced themselves: should child soldiers be used in the Civil War over children? The case against it is that, as we previously discussed, they are only three-fifths of a person. The South is loaded with youngsters and if they let these kids fight in their Civil War, then it might question what they’re fighting for in the first place. However, if the North allows kids to fight in their anti-children stance, then draft riots will ensue.
Should childless aristocrats in the Five Points district of New York be allowed to pay a few hundred dollars so that they can hire a freed child to take their place in a battle that is too distant and removed from their personal beliefs?
Either way, both sides can agree that antiquated battle tactics – whether they’re being performed by children or not – will be mowed down in the face of the machine gun. The memories of such brutal battles over children can be seen in the faces of thousands of old, strange, bearded and pathetic men who attend reenactments at Gettysburg every month. God speed, good men. And know that ye olde faithful will not all O be coming. Whether birth control is used or not.
This post might be a little tricky to pull off due to only a nascent understanding of puns in the native Somali language, but I wonder if Somalia has some version of their own pirate jokes to regale their future raiders and crusaders like we have here.
The first question has to be whether the jokes are full-on puns, like the ones that are loved and cherished by four-year-olds and Midwesterners, or if the Somali pirate “jokes” are instead deathly warnings about the perils of being a pirate. This adds a whole new level to the comedy if they have a whole language full of pirate anti-jokes that warn would-be pirates of the trappings of the trade that can lead to instant death.
I guess what I’m wondering is whether pirate jokes amongst the Somali pirate population are full-on puns, or whether they’re tragic stories of death and violence in a military state, but with an added dose of humor. Or preferably both.
These might include catchy little one-liners like:
“What’s a pirate’s favorite mode of transportation?”
“A motorboat with four fully-loaded semi-automatic rifles hitched to the sides allowing for quick boarding of the vessel to take hostages and bribe foreign shipping lines for millions of dollars or threatening to behead crewmen on the new Sony camera that was found in one of the containers on level D. Arrrgh.”
“What’s a pirate’s favorite letter in the alphabet?”
“Sometimes a letter is not the most effective way to illicit bribe money from the desperate families of a stranded crew with machettes placed above the jugular. You can resort to news feeds through CNN and Reuters which will at the very least lead to movie rights to your story as a child soldier.”
The obvious problem with these examples is that there aren’t any puns involved, and that’s really what we love about pirate jokes when it’s all said and done. Where things get a little muddled is how we can get some puns involved. I don’t know if Somali pirates say Arrrgh a lot, and how the letter R is pronounced in the native tongue. Maybe there can be some connection to our beloved pirate jokes with a neat Somali twist:
“How much did the pirate pay to get his ears pierced?”
“A buck-an-ear! But he also sliced the neck of his disobediant prison-arrrgh.”
“What’s a pirate’s backup job?”
“An arrrrrchitect of terrorist plots to kill the infidels once my Yemeni passport application goes through.”
The difficult part is to find the delicate balance between proper use of a pun and not offending the true pirate nature that has been exhumed in Somalia. I mean these are real, violent dudes that just happen to be doing the kinds of robbery that has been mocked by Disney cartoons. It’s sort of like Wiccan people who take themselves too seriously and decide to use it as their platform for Delaware Senator. Oh, wait… Crap, now we can’t do witch jokes any longer.
The hearrrrrt of this post is that even Somali pirates can have senses of humor. So whether their plans are off the “hook,” of they need an extra little “patch,” the violence, death, murder and abuse should all be filtered through a little bit of humaarrrgghh.
I know the obvious answer to this question is that they are, in fact, all drunk, but it seems pretty impressive that an entire Eastern European nation that has existed for millennia can manage to be filled with an entire population of citizens who all appear as though they’ve been drinking at Sonny McClane’s since noon.
Every time the World Cup offers a close up on any of their players or fans, you could switch any of them out with a bad Jim Bruer impression. I’ve been left trying to figure out the evolutionary advantage of having an entire group of people with glossed-over droopy eyes, long faces, hollow cheeks and not much of a sense of humor. Yet an eagerness to murder you at the first slight of their proud culture.
Could it have anything to do with the fact that the entire country is populated with nearly identical last names? To get a Serbian name, it seems like you could just add the letters, “ic” to the end of your name. Starting with the Lakers’ Sasha Vujacic, the members of the Serbian soccer team include: Jovanovic, Zigic, Ivanovic, Pantelic, Kuzmanovic, Obravic and Subotic.
As a side note, it’s worth noting that none of these are my favorite World Cup name of the tournament. There is a player on the South African squad whose surname is Tshabalala, but when the announcer says it, it sounds like he’s saying, “Shamalama.” I don’t know how to express my disappointment that his full name is not Shamalama Ding Dong. There is, however, a sweeper named Kim Dong-Jin on the South Korean squad, but this – like the South Korean defense – just doesn’t get the job done.
Anyway, back to the Serbs. And I should preface this by mentioning that my experience with Serbs are as follows: hazy knowledge about the start of World War I involving Franz Ferdinand; something bad when down there in the 1990s and it involved other countries; some Serbian guy with bad body odor (as opposed to good body odor: Axe body spray) in a Milan youth hostel.
They seem like a deeply religious group of people who follow a sect of Catholicism that no one has ever heard of, and one that advocates murdering all thy neighbors. This is why I can’t figure out how Serbians were involved in ethnic cleansing in the 90s. Doesn’t your ethnicity have to be sort of “clean” before you can try and wipe your local minorities from the map?
Germany’s ethnic cleansing was at least based on them being fit, tall, blond and blue-eyed and they wanted to get rid of ugly and unfit Jews. But the Serbs? How can they claim genetic superiority when they all look like the middle-story on Cops. It’s pretty depressing when someone with an unpronounceable name who looks like he’ll be stuck at a traffic stop to sing the alphabet backwards while touching his nose is accusing you of being genetically inferior. Could it be that I have never witnessed an actual Serbian woman? This would explain the short temper, but fail to explain the breeding.
So to the Sasha Vujacic’s and Nemanja Vidic’s of the world, continue making your country proud. And when Man U or the Lakers win, or you’re playing for your home country, raise a drink to celebrate. No one can tell whether you are drunk either way, so enjoy.