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The first Monday of September marks Labor Day, as you already know - killing time reading this before the start of the party you’re hosting or going to attend. While visions of pork ribs dance in your head, or you’re feverishly dicing spuds for the potato salad, take time to remember the source of this holiday.

Fueled by the common but discreet disillusionment with the corruption in the Catholic Church, Martin Luther started writing his Ninety-Five Theses September 1, 1517 to be presented to the Bishop of Saxony. In those days, Latin was spoken often but not well understood. Septi meaning seven was taken to mean Septa, meaning to seperate. During this month, the Church made tithes 20% to part parishioners with their money. Luther thought to seperate this practice from the church. His work would criticize the Church and Pope for opportunist money grubbers. He finished it the first of October and was ready to protest the clergy but rumor had gotten to the bishops whom instituted a new holiday themed on Octo (latin for “eight”) in which they cut heretics into eight pieces. Luther postponed his work’s submission until the last day of this bloody month, Halloween (German for “I thinkth they’ve learned thine lesson”, patron Saint Michael).

The Protestants eventually did seperate from the Church. Freed from miriad monetary committments like buying price-gouged fish on Friday, spending a fortune on diamond encrusted platinum crosses and Take your Son to Church days - you were expected to pay a days labor to the local parish or take your young male children to the local priest for a special closed ceremony involving oil annointing and embraces of fellowship -, Protestants had gold to save and re-invest into their trade. This was the start of Capitolism. Soon lowly farmer became landlords and landlords nobles or merchant barons.

In the 18th century a new holiday was founded on September first - Seperation Day. Instead of commemorating the bravery of Martin Luther, wealthy Protestant industry owners, their families and friends would hold seven course banquets in the shops where they employed poor laborers, mostly Catholic. They enjoyed goose liver pate as their workers looked on, hungrily licking whale grease from their calloused hands for lunch in the middle of an 18 hour shift producing shoe buckles, toothbrushes and other luxuries they couldn’t afford. Owners’ children would toss candy to the pre-teen workers and watch with glee as they bludgeoned each other with the table legs they were to lathe over a taste of confections.

In 1882, French immigrant worker Pierre L’Abo, still hungry from his breakfast of warehouse rat and prayer, snuck to the Seperation banquet table and made off with some half-eaten roasted potatoes, pickled cucumbers and a handful of mayonaise. Sharing this feast with his fellow coal tasters ( it was thought that coal and chocolate came from a common source, “The more bitter, the better burning” was the saying) the richness of the meal rendered them lethargic. When the owner and his middle manglers (the derivation of the word manager) sought to see what slowed production, they discovered the theft and made to punish the boys by having their hands mangled - not to prevent production but make it more painful. 

A mangler tasted the weird white concoction coating Pierre’s hands, believing it to be stolen ambergris paste, and was amazed - this was the first potato salad. Such a combination of both mayonaise and potato was ambrosia to the palet. The owner pleased with this new recipe rewarded the coal tasters with a place at his table, offering them discarded pork rib bones and corn cobbs. Well nourished for a change, L’Abo and his peers gnawed the now marrowless bones into sharp fragments and murdered the owner, his family, and the unsuspecting manglers - allowing the tired workers of the mill to feast of the banquet.

The recipe for potato salad was widely circulated and factory owners gave their employees a day off to acquire it and enjoy the delicacy far away from them without it’s hypnotic flavor luring them into vulnerability. It soon became tradition, although the coal dust that was part of the original dish was replaced with pepper in the early twentieth century. For his initiative in championing worker rights, the holiday was name for L’Abo - Labor Day. He was celebrated each year until his death at the ripe old age of 23 in 1892.

So to all citizens and casual parasitic readers, we wish you a relaxing and fun Labor Day!

(the statements of the preceeding article may need verification)  

The makers of The Wire, an HBO series on crime in Baltimore and the best cop drama I’ve ever seen, are now bringing us the mini-series Generation Kill - based on the book by Evan Wright, a reporter for Rolling Stone embedded with the Marine First Recon Battalion during the initial Invasion of Iraq. After only four episodes it appears to be a showcase of mission not accomplished.

First thing I thought to compare it is Band of Brothers, an excellant WWII inspired drama about the last time this country fought and defeated clearly black/white hat type evil, in that case uber white, and the aforementioned Wire.

Like Band of Brothers it’s about a war, but bears little resemblance to their theme of men enduring hardship for a greater cause. GK shows a stark realism in comparison, not so much in what ordinance is used and jargon terms spoken: “POH-LEASE that mustache!” that I couldn’t verify being a tea drinking yoga stretching faggot liberal, but in terms of the charaterization of real life soldiers of the MTV generation. I dont consider myself a tofu sucking commie democrat hippie pussy, but after being virtually immersed in marine culture it’s hard not to feel that way. Evan Wright was made to feel this way until he told them he used to write for Hustler - akin to telling little kids you make toy designs for Santa.

I’ve started back on my personal fitness regimen to counter this feeling of bitchness - military is in my family though I’ve never served outside of JROTC. An appeal of this series, like any war series or movie, is the uncut masculinity of the drama. It’s very macho - and not in the handlebar mustache and leather chaps way - but in how they diffuse stress with bragging  and snapping on each other while saddness is handled with stoicism, feelings arent talked about they’re shown in the eyes of an otherwise stony brave face.  

Intended to be a civil discussion of recent films, I was joined by two comic crazy fanboys and one ever patient hostess - anarchy ensues. Hunin, Q, and Rib form the panel of this Cast covering the big men on the screen: Bat, Iron, and the ever testy Mr. Purple pants. We get intellectual on the genre - LOUDLY - plus get in some cinematic snobbery on WALL E and The Happening.

Dominion Cast 3 download
(70 mins. 63.8 mb)

Intro - Batman: The Animated Series opening theme
Digging the Dark Knight
Black Two Face: The Revenge of Billy D
Rib’s Apathy & Digg Doubts Ledger
The Hulk’s Fight Club
Ironman: Changing the Game
Rib’s Revelation
Hulking Pathos
WALL E, son of Johnny vs The Incredibles
Hunin defends The (not) Happening
Outro - Ha Ha Hee Hee

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That’s a double entendre title. Firstly: if there is any movie that should not be spoiled it is Batman: Dark Knight. Be gratified readers that I will restrain the fervor of my praise for the movie by not giving away any specifics that would reveal ANYTHING. It’s so well written that I’m not sure that I could communicate enough the experience it creates - yes, high praise from an arrogant ass such as myself.They’ve been flooding the airwaves with trailers showing scenes of action with explosions and bat motorcycles and cryptic lines from the characters. The surprising beauty though is that these scenes do nothing to spoil the film cause it’s so MUCH more than that. We’re enticed with small sections of the masterpiece but it’s true magnificence is in the painting. If you’re the type to watch movies twice, you’ll watch this one three times. It’s fucking operatic, without the booming Italian singing, with a truly Shakespearian storyline - but no one says “For soothe“ or calls the bad guys “varlets“.

With the mega monetary movie success of super hero franchises, it makes sense that we’ll get some wannabe trying to glam onto the genre, from My Super Ex-Girlfriend to the horrible Superhero Movie. When I heard Will “Jiggy-With-It” Smith was doing one titled Hancock, there was curiosity as to what this would be. He alternates between humanity pieces like The Pursuit of Happyness and balls-out action joints like I, Robot - was Hancock to be a mix of both?

A severely dysfunction super hero sounds like a humorous premise; hence it got the green light for production. It was funny for the first third to half of the movie, we’ve seen super heroic CGI so it’s impact is limited, and then it got dramatic. The super dude drinks and acts up cause he’s lonesome being the only one of his kind. No Justice League or Avengers to sit around and talk shop with, or be wary about should they turn rogue. No super villains to challenge a brother whom is tricked out with the Superman suite of powers - flight, invulnerable - but can get drunk -, ultra strong. Makes sense character wise for Hancock. Humanized heores is a big part of the appeal of current generation comic movies.

Jason Bateman’s charity pitchman, a normal guy trying to do good with marketing savvy - a feat of fiction in itself, helps Hancock get back into public affection and learn to do things with consideration for us little folks. Then, the twist drops and turns this tale sideways. Charlize Theron plays Bateman‘s out-of-his-league beautiful wife who is a super herself, three thousand years old, has the powers of Hancock and is old boy’s ex actually whose powers negates his - why she left him alone after a amnesia causing attack 80 years back, when interracial couples were so accepted in Florida? WHAT THE FUCK?!

We were on a nice path here! Lonely Superman develops feelings for a Lois Lane married to innocent good guy best friend Jimmy Olsen. No, we’ve got a race of uber-immortals made in pairs that can enjoy human love by becoming human, this isn’t so bad an original concept. That Charlize didn’t find and tell Hancock the deal 79 years back, after he’d healed and was super duper again from married life with her, says the bitch was sick of him (the seven century itch?) She doesn’t tell him about their coupling kryptonite until he’s already shot. Is this the OJ and Nicole dynamic in reverse? A pretty blonde wife is trying to kill her famous black spouse?

Hancock takes the high ground to except loneliness and be a hero by leaving his soul mate, but even this is made lame by the fact that he can wait 45 years until Bateman dies then get back with Charlize for a time before going back to world saving. It’s romantic enough for a date movie, but makes no literal sense to a super hero fan. Then again, making sense doesn’t matter as long as your date digs it emotionally, so only watch it if a woman makes you … or your gay for Will Smith.