Da Dominion: Home of DOMINIONCAST!

The New Years brings good news: Fantasy Action has returned to TV!

Stop! I didn’t mean the Spice Channel - or other spank channels for that matter. I mean by Fantasy that genre of fiction that infuses it’s plot, theme or setting with the supernatural unfettered by advanced technology (Sci-Fi) or the macabre (read “muh-COBB-bruh” as in Horror). Lord of the Rings type shit, for the mundane minded.

The program is actually the aforementioned Legend of the Seeker, which was surveyed for excellence in its premiere early November. Seven episodes into its first season, it has bound over several pitfalls of past TV sword and sorcery predecessors to grasp the Obsidian Ring of Dominion Approval. Why not brass ring? It’s clichéd. Obsidian is hard, black, smooth and sharp - like our humor. Brass is more expensive than the brittle volcanic glass, we can’t afford it - but you can! Check our store for the Obsidian Chakram of Approval ™ coming soon! WARNING: chakram is too sharp to be held with human hands. Side effects include loss of fingers, acute pain in the fingerless hand and bleeding from the hands.

Legend of the Seeker, from the producers of Hercules and Xena, based on the Sword of Truth novel series by Terry Goodkind, is a worthy representative of both sets of artist. The first temptation it refused was camera winking. There were a lot of times in Herc and Xena when the comic relief in effect said, “this is just fun fantasy myth.” A lonely Cyclops is angry cause he hasn’t had a date in centuries. I can relate to that shit! Har har hee.

Seeker has avoided a lot of this disbelief strain by not doing monster o’ the week. The central conflict is rightfully focused on Richard Cypher being the first True Seeker in hundreds of years. One day he’s chopping wood shirtless, as a young farmer’s son is expected to do when you’re trying to rope a decent number of female viewers - by the way, writing a blog shirtless doesn’t have the same effect - now he’s the savior of the world with everybody expecting big things of him. His Obi-Wan, the wizard Zeddicus Zu’l Zorander (alliterative name: + 50 pts), is always harping on how he has to become this mythical revolutionary heroic warrior leader in a way that imparts gravity of destiny more concretely than “here’s a light saber, let’s go to Alderaan”. They must overthrow the evilly named Darken Rahl, tyrant of the West, East, Mid, left, and corner adjacent lands of New Zealand - or whatever world the Big Kiwi is meant to model.

On the action front, they’ve kept with the Pose Fu to great effect. Another annoying Fantasy trope they’ve dodged is the cartoon violence. There’s no breaking vase over bad guy’s head or disarming to take them out of the fight. They successfully walk the safe side of the gore line, but the Sword of Truth does cleave many a baddy. Zeddicus burns evil men, not CG monsters, to death with his spells. Specifically, two dagger wielding Kahlan the Confessor whirls like dervish with cuts to the joints, neck and face that leave no doubt whether or not minion #12 survives - unless she‘s cutting extra breathing hole, nah. With the camera safely behind the back of her foes the gore guard is preserved without being lame.

Destiny ain’t easy. They’ve covered Richard having a shot at a normal life in the episode Identity and faced with the temptation of magic abuse in Elixir. Cypher has no time for the fancies of a young lad, and is tragically forced to adventure with Kahlan - played by the pretty Bridget Regan - another specially gifted person with the power to know the hearts of men, steal their wills, wear low cut corsets and bathe in rivers when the Seeker shouldn’t be distracted. Even sadder, she’s not even his sister! Their attraction has developed predictably, but besides inherent problems of sheathing your sword in your ally’s scabbard - her powers make her dangerously untouchable. So it’s not just another “when is Xena gonna get down and lez-out all up in Gabriel” cock tease schtick.

I plan to check out Goodkind’s Sword of Truth once I’m done with a couple of more Dresden Files novels. If the show is this good the books must be even better.

Our very own Tribune of Thought Hunin takes a turn a the moderator’s desk - well chair … actually old couch in the basement - and guides us through this discussion of common Sci-Fi themes and tropes. Wordsmyth joins us again to express his Oedipal fear of the past, and joins me in defending Star Wars. The Chocolate Lady Lira remembers Johnny Five as one of the robot greats. Rib dreams of Beligium buttocks and immortal abs. Me, I swear and bicker over Terminators and fake ten year olds.

Cast biness as usual.

Dominion Cast 21 download (59 mins, 54mb)

Music from fuori quarantena by Miguel Prod
Time Travel -
Big Bang: LoLs-free
Time Cop
Back 2 da Future
Star Trek TNG: Cause and Effect (5×18)
2001 > Star Wars? : Round 1
Rhobutts: reflection of humanity or cool badguys
Post Apocalypse - When lord, WHEN!?!?
Psionics: Mental Car Science
Weirdbadwrong Science: Rise of the Mandroid.

My curry cutie Padma Lakshmi is back with a season of Top Chef New York on Bravo - the first closeted gay network! When not deciding who the best model, new fashion designer or the most drunk rich housewife is, come here to get your foody (culinary geek) on.

The challenges have always been the biggest draw for me - besides Mistress Masala Mounds - like this one from the last episode:

Guessing salt or pepper seems a little cheap to me, but peanut butter!?! The bird lady fucked that one royally. Watch rest of the episode to see where else she fails.

Carla (sistah raptor face) does have skills but is too jittery and soft spoken. She’ll either crack under pressure or get blamed for a team failure. Later in this episode she lets anther chef add something to her dish without ripping out his spleen for garnish. Danny boy also in trouble by breaking the cardinal rule of Bravo: the straightest can never win. I could see him in line for Lions tickets, or Raiders, or whichever teams are in New York - I don’t do sports, but even I can’t feign ignorance and wish our Detroit Lions were a NYC franchise. Now that he got cut from Top Chef, if he’s not busy now he should try out for our zero and fourteen football team - chef or athlete, he couldn’t hurt.

For the top two I’m seeing Jamie , lesbian survivor of “Team Rainbow“, and the Bald James Bond euro-villain Stefan. They seem the most driven and talented although I can really see the latter falling to overconfidence. Flirting with gay women, if you have a cock, is notoriously difficult. If he does manage to bed this blonde, competition or not he’s a winner!

His foreign partner Fabio is all charm and soiled English. He’s made too many mistakes and proves foreigners aren’t always number one. Rocco Dispirito says he wants bacon breakfast and you make an espresso shot and French toast? Me no lissen so good. Josea got top palette but I don’t see making it to the end. They seem to be covering a lot of his “friendship” with Leah. The type of buddies that are of different genders, have a shared passionate interest and commitments at home that hangs out together way from the cameras.

It’s not a soapy drama if there’s competition, DAMN IT! Still, let me check out this Victoria Secret show to get my hetero on for a while.

FOX - home of the any reality show you can imagine from matching wits with children to animals finally getting pissed and mauling a mafucka - has decided to play on these harsh financial times and the generosity of the holiday season with it’s new show Secret Millionaire. Do you know what it’s about? Can you guess? That’s right!

It’s sort of like Joe Millionaire in reverse and with more real (homely) looking women. Daddy Warbucks and trophy wife - or age appropriate wife with a great pre-nup - get a $200-150 budget for week and are set up in some urban shit hole or trailer park depending on whichever they can fit in. The episode I saw had a Latino family in Watts, LA - Brown and Black blend in the ghetto, yet violently clash ironically. The producers follow them with cameras but tell folk it’s a documentary about living in the hood. This also creates an artificial bubble of safety, since there are witnesses and cameras don’t fence at the pawnshop for very high.

Wouldn’t you know it, these rich folk just so happen to meet some neighbors that are making the best of their life without Jacuzzis or a walk-in closet that features a 24-hour hot stone masseuse? Sometimes they just so happen to come upon a community group that gives support to others for free, which is something rich people never do for each other being so tangled in the root of all evil. Implicit in their education is the presumption that these places are NOT actually full of rappers holding cellulite beauty contests, nor mulleted sister-fucking clansman with boundary issues.

Funny thing: the Latino couple I saw were self-made rich - husband was at least, but not reached a mid-life crisis yet so still on bargain wife number 1. They’d come from a similar area to Watts, but dude was like he’s not from here so none of his barrio streetwise applied. Really? Weren’t you near this level 10 years ago?

After a week of seeing how the peasant folk live, a steady malnourishing diet of ramen noodles, dollar menu and raccoon croquettes (variant with choice of shit hole) moves them to tears. The flavor of tarragon is but a mere memory and they’ve got rashes from wiping their own ass wrong without a decent bidet. Their jewel-encrusted hearts grow three sizes too big and they realize: “Wait a sec, Muffy. We have money. Let’s … sh- … sh- … share some with these surprisingly human-like people.”

Here comes the real shocker. On the last day, they visit all of their new best friends and reveal that they’re actually millionaires. Dun-dun-duuuuuh! To make up for the deception they give them or their organizations tens of thousands of dollars if not an even hundred grand. Get ready for it - the poor folk forgive them with a hug and tears!! Icing on the deception cakes: “Take care, Shaniqua. We’ll be back, you guys are real friends.”

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.

Can’t you just see Cooter at the next cocktail party? Shirtless with an elbow patched tweed jacket bitching to executives about how Friend of the Court is rougher than the stock markets. More likely, young Tyrone gets to serve Christmas cookies at the holiday party and gets to take the leftovers home.

Look, your Dominus is not without pity or charity in his heart. I’m glad these poor folk are getting some help, especially in these strapped times. I’m glad these rich folk are getting into the Obaman spirit of not being such greedy bastards. Don’t try to tug on my heartstrings like this whole thing was spontaneous. Know why I don’t think we’ll be seeing any secret Black millionaires?

A. They’ve been there and done it and don’t need a hood refresher.
B. They’re busy on the road with their basketball team or on tour promoting they’re new album.
C. If a camera is following a Black man through the hood everyone assumes it’s on Cops and flees.

I must say that I approve of domestic charity over the loot that third worlds gets: having your child bought by an aging celebrity and all that fancy air dropped jasmine rice. Charity begins at home, or more likely that greasy urban sprawl between your suburban manse and the downtown office.

I’ve been a long time fan of the dramatic cop show: The Shield, The Wire, Law & Order, Law & Order: SVU, Law and Order: CI, Law & Order: PF (Paralegal Filing).

Drama is an important part of a well-balanced creative meal of inspiration - and no it doesn’t make you gay unless it’s Grey Anatomy or another primetime soap of Intern X screwing Dr. Mc-Y behind Mrs. Z‘s back. I look forward to … wait … what?

… JAY LENO IS STILL ON THE AIR ?!?!?

I haven’t watched the Tonight Show since I couldn’t stay up past 11, let alone since Mighty Mandible has been hosting. My super exceptional high school had me watching Nightline in my adolescence. We got Cable then there was always some soft-core porn or kick ass violent action flick on. In college, I never got home before 1 am from the library/party/bar/game session/ date or all to often third base grope fest. Today, I’m on the Internet learning about the world and arguing over message boards on vital issues like which Voltron is coolest with the TV playing in the background of my peripheral vision. Now this squeaky-voiced has been is snatching away the 10’o clock spot of my tragic ER and New York District Attorney “Hang‘em High” McCoy .

I’ve caught Conan quite a bit and like his show. It’s easy to see it’s geared for our generation and I’ve been afraid of the comedic castration an earlier time slot will give him. Now I still am, and have a to contend with Jay Leno entering my perception with innuendo laden quips and depressing interviews with the dumbest people in our society - I meant Jay Walking, not the celebrity interviews … but isn‘t either apt? Unless Leno’s new show is him jumping over burning things on one of his vintage motorcycles without a helmet while interviewing Tom Cruise in the bitch seat, I see myself being pissed and NBC being assured I’m not watching.

I guess it makes sense from a business perspective. Their hour dramas are a bit weak and there is a financial crunch going on. Selling your blood and semen all day can leave you wiped and turning in earlier, let me tell you. Any recommendation for 10’ o clock network shows? I’ll watch CSI, but only with Rib - and only then if she bakes cookies and makes popcorn every time. If Goddess Gynarch Oprah will let her make them.