My Life In Conversations – Part 2 of Whatever

Update on my sleeping –

I had a terrible night of sleep, but I did sleep some. I bought a box of “Simply Sleep”. I took some. I know I fell asleep a few times because I had dreams. Crazy, crazy, crazy dreams. This is pretty typical, but it is noteworthy that I cannot blame the hallucinogenic powers of Ambien for my crazy dreams.

In one dream that I can remember pretty clearly, I met Dustin Hoffman… for the second time! A big group of us were getting dressed up to go see a movie. That movie was Predators. Strangely enough, there is a movie called Predators that is coming out, but it wasn’t that movie. This Predators was completely an original production to that movie. Anyway, one of the people in this gaggle of humans that was going to see Predators was Dustin Hoffman.

I see Mr. Hoffman and I walk over to him to say hello. Dustin is dressed in what could only be described as a jacket Steven Seagal wore in The Glimmer Man… well I’ll just show you:

Dustin Hoffman and I shake hands. He remarks that the first time we met, which means we’ve met before, that he gave me a weak handshake. He wanted to know what I thought of this handshake that just transpired. I said that it was actually very strong and, if I were to get critical, maybe too strong. That is when Mr. Hoffman replied, “Well, good. I didn’t want you to think I was a faggot, but now you probably think I have Down syndrome.” Needless to say, I found this comment surprising and off putting.

Immediately after that a pack of tigers attacked our horses. Oh, did I forget to mention we were going to ride horses to see Predators? Whether I mentioned it or not, we didn’t ride any horses because they were all scared away or savagely killed in front of us by the wild jungle cats. Maybe more surprising than Dustin Hoffman’s choice of wardrobe or uncouth language, none of us ran in terror when the tigers were attacking the horses that were mere feet from us. I guess we all assumed once the tigers had filled their stomachs with horse meat then they would have no appetite to feed on us.

The question I have is- if dreams are a window into one’s subconscious, do I believe men with weak handshakes are “faggots” and men with strong handshakes have “Down syndrome”? I find this very unlikely. What I believe my subconscious was telling me was I think Dustin Hoffman is a weirdo who uses words like “faggots” and jokes about “Down syndrome” with the utmost glib. So if you learned anything from this website:

1. Kristen Stewart wants it.

2. Keep your children away from critically acclaimed actor Dustin Hoffman.

Next topic…

Last Thursday, I wrote about the tour de force performances by various people’s hair in the movie The Octagon. Besides that essay being criminally under appreciated and under commented on, another great film was mentioned by one of the KSWI commenting staff: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

I have a lot to say about TMNT and everything associated with that glorious franchise. There was the original cartoon series, which I watched religiously. There were the video games, which I owned and played all. There were the movies, which I have seen numerous times. But today’s discussion on the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles will be about one specific element of the movies: the Foot Clan.

About two weeks ago, Friend #2 from the previous installment of “My Life In Conversations” were sitting around and watching TV. The movie Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze was on. We began watching it and found ourselves discussing at length the Foot Clan.

Ahhhhh, yes – the Foot Clan. The ninja henchmen army of The Shredder were the Turtles’ main adversaries. Seemingly, not a day goes by in the life of a Turtle or a member of the Foot that they do not battle. It is quite the common occurrence. When we as a nation of united human beings were first introduced to the Foot Clan they were robots. ROBOTS! Yes! Robots they were. The Shredder had a mechanical army that were trained or programmed in Ninjutsu and were dressed to appear as if they were in fact human ninjas.

First, let me just mention that that is a funny thing unto itself. Robots don’t require clothes. They’re ROBOTS! They have no shame. They have no style. They have no sense of decency because they need not. They were just metal robots and not the type of robot with human flesh over top of the metal skeleton to appear as a human. The Shredder had them dressed as ninjas because he simply felt like it. Secondly, they’re bad guys so the idea of clothing them to make them blend in or appear less frightful is counter intuitive. I would be more afraid of an obvious metal robot army with clear working knowledge of ninja tactics than a less than obvious ninja army in purple pants and hoods. But I digress…

The first Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie made a pronounced decision in making the Foot Clan not an army of robots. Instead in the movie the Foot are a gang of misguided human youth who follow The Shredder by choice. This is very very different. Before it was one evil mastermind and his futuristic inhuman army that the Turtles could tear through endlessly with swords and nunchucks. Now these overgrown Turtles are beating the ever living piss out of the next generation of New York City.

The story of the Foot in the first movie is told to us through the character of “Danny”. Danny is a rebellious youth who is looking to make friends and commit random crimes. So he joins the Foot Clan. When Danny shows up to the Foot Clan hideout for the first time we are treated to the inner-workings of what it is to be a henchmen. What is the allure? What is their daily life? Who are the individuals behind the bug eyed masks? Who is the “real” Foot Clan?

The truth behind the Foot is they are not that bad of guys. Danny walks into the hideout and is greeted by an amiable tour guide. There is a very well constructed set of skateboard ramps for one to ride on if so chooses. There are video games. They listen to Van Halen-esque rock and roll. And most importantly, they have cigarettes. Lots of cigarettes. A shit ton of cigarettes. Danny actually asks the guy if he has any cigarettes and like a fucking magic trick the guy pulls two cartons, not packs – CARTONS, of cigarettes out of nowhere. His response to Danny is “regular or menthol” and then throws them to Danny. Is this place Heaven?

The tour guide definitely says “or”, but by his cavalier attitude I’m pretty sure Danny could have walked with both cartons of cigarettes with no questions asked. I know that times have changed and inflation and luxury taxes and everything, but a carton of cigarettes in New York City is not cheap. This guy just met Danny and if you read between the lines is willing to give Danny two cartons of cigarettes – no questions asked. Could you imagine the amount of cigarettes Danny could get his hands on if he actually knew the guy? The sky is the limit my friend and I mean Danny could literally build a ladder of cigarettes past the clouds in the sky that is how many cigarettes this guy has to give.

Besides the cigarettes, the Foot Clan does have its own 24 hour gym where one can learn a variety of martial arts. Free cigarettes, free 24 hour gym, free one-on-one training? Friend #2 and I were sold. I’m not 100% positive, but I feel like you see guys eating pizza and drinking soda in the Foot Clan hideout. I would imagine there attitude towards cigarettes also applies to soda and pizza as well. I love the Foot Clan! What is the price you have to pay to be a Foot Clan soldier? Commit vandalism, purse snatchings, fight enormous turtles and, maybe, get beat to death by The Shredder in front of the rest of the Foot? That’s not too bad.

Friend #2 and I decided that given the opportunity we would join the Foot Clan. It seems like a pretty great group of guys (minus the one who slaps April – but one rotten apple…) and the amenities are pretty great as well. Friend #2 and I continued to discuss the benefits of joining the Foot Clan. Maybe I would learn to skateboard. That would be pretty cool. We would definitely get in amazing shape with all the Ninjutsu training. Also, we would be learning a valuable self-defense so we would probably be more confident in ourselves. We would definitely save a lot of money because pizza, soda, cigarettes, shelter, video games, gym and clothes (Foot Clan ninja outfit) are all provided for free. And we would make a lot of friends.

As the two of us discussed the merits of joining the Foot Clan, we soon realized pretty quickly the Foot Clan may be better without us. We are two unemployed men with mild drinking problems. We are two lazy men who in the shining light of Summer are instead watching a children’s movie. If anything, us and our current roster of friends would only be a bad influence on the other members of the Foot Clan.

They never show the Foot Clan getting high and drunk and watching repeats of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. They never show the Foot Clan sleeping past noon to wake up to lay around on couches. The Foot Clan is an active group of people. They’re on the move. They’re running through subway tunnels. They’re burning apartment buildings down. They have structure. They have a leader and they follow orders. Meanwhile, showering has become optional in our lives.

“Hey man, get your shit on. We’re going to go kidnap some reporter chick.”

“Nah man, I’m cool. I’m just going to drink some PBR and play video games.”

“I rue the day you were ever let into this Foot Clan.”

“Whatever man. Can you throw me another carton of free cigarettes before you leave?”

The Foot Clan would only be worse off with us or Dustin Hoffman as members.