Rethinking the “No Killing” Code (or Why Classic Superheroes are Morons…Except Batman)

Now, I’m a relatively young dude who grew up after the passing of the Silver Age of comics that many people are nostalgiac for. I understand that the violence and adult nature of many of today’s comics makes a lot of old-school cats shake their heads and ask, “Where? Where did it all go wrong?” I can appreciate the jabs taken at the new, hyper-aggressive brand of heroes and anti-heroes by Kingdom Come & Action Comics #775.

Nonetheless, I still have to wonder how a “big blue boyscout” became of this rampaging maniac…

It’s the most famous comic book ever, and I’m sure many funnier people have already pointed this out, but I’ll go ahead and wear the tread thinner on the same jokes about the above, with the twist being an expression of admiration. Here you clearly have a Superman who is hell bent on defeating whatever unknown, craggy foe he’s bludgeoning with some poor schmuck’s car (I’m betting it’s the dude in the red tie, whose pained expression reads less “I’m terrified of that man’s unimaginable strength!” and more “Dear God my wife’s still in the backseat!”). This is the original Superman, attacking mountains with vehicles heedless of regard for human life. A guy who didn’t go out of his way to kill the bad guys, but didn’t exactly put in the extra effort to make sure he didn’t kill them or destroy other people’s property in the course of battle.

A guy who definitely wouldn’t be caught dead looking like this…

You know how I came across this picture? I searched “Superman crying” and there it was, first page. Google snickered and said “Man there are soooo many pics to choose from,” before I was done typing it. (Conversely, I Googled “Batman crying” and a Batarang shot out of my monitor and struck me in the throat.)

Look, I don’t want to be another one of those comic book nerds who picks on Superman for being “too wholesome.” Truth is, I’m a fan, when he’s not openly bawling into Diana’s Wonder-plated bosom (God’s sake man, have you no Super-shame?). But you have to pick on Superman when talking about things like this because he’s the original. If he says “killing is not allowed” then all others follow suit. He sets the standard.

So How did Supes go from a Kevin Garnett level of psychotic intensity to the Downy-softest super icon in the world?

Probably a number of reasons, but what the hell, I’m gonna blame the “No Killing” code. I understand the ostensible purpose of it, but in actuality it’s careless and wuss-ifying and, most of all, completely idiotic. And here are the reasons why…

Lousy Comic Book Penal Systems

If comic books operated like the real world, where prison escapes are relatively rare and multiple escapes by the same prisoner rarer, and frequent escapes by mass-murdering sociopaths pretty unthinkable, then simply imprisoning an offender would be fine.

Unfortunately, comic books operate in a world where every hero needs an arch-nemisis – or several – and said arch-nemesis needs to make regular appearances lest he be downgraded from “arch-nemesis” to “that dude Superman smacked with a schoolbus that one time.” Here’s the rub: you can’t have the villain constantly evading the hero, else your hero becomes an inept buffoon (see “Inspector Gadget”), but you can’t have the villain stay in prison forever either.

The solution? Your hero wins and locks the bad guy up, the bad guy escapes and starts a new scheme, and the process repeats itself. Ah, but this actually makes the rub even rubbier, as now you have to do something to prevent your regularly scheduled conflicts from falling into a routine of Tom vs. Jerry hijinks. What do you do? Raise the stakes, of course! Nobody can take the stories lightly if there is life and death hanging in the balance! A brilliant solution except for one tiny side effect…

All of Those Innocent Casualties

As an admitted Batman fanatic, I understand that my reason for exempting Batman from the “mega-idiot” category reserved for other No Killing Code abiding heroes (Bruce Wayne’s pathological focus, mild insanity and ponderous arrogance make his adherence more understandable) might be a bit suspect. So I’ll now take this opportunity to skewer him for not having killed The Joker years ago.

The above reasoning for Batman’s refusal to kill notwithstanding, he should have buried The Joker by now. Everybody has to have a breaking point. The Joker has bludgeoned Batman’s partners with a crowbar, then finished him off with a time-bomb chaser, paralyzed another partner and then took photographs of her nude body and showed them to her father (Batman’s buddy, Commissioner Gordon), and murdered the father’s wife. That’s just the people Batman knows.

The Joker exemplifies the problem with just raising the stakes. The villains become more and more villainous, their actions become increasingly deplorable, their body counts look like zip codes, meanwhile the good guy is still playing whiffle-ball.  Shouldn’t Batman have at least beaten The Joker comatose by now? Broken his spine? Something?

When the villains are breaking out of prison and robbing banks and making threats that never come to fruition then the No Killing Code is all good. But if you’re going to let Cyborg and Mongul wipe out Coast City and kill 7 million people in the process, you need to give Green Lantern the green light to wreck somebody. You can’t say that you keep heroes from killing because comic books are meant for children when you let Dr. Light rape Sue Dibny. The shit makes no sense!

For God’s sake, how do citizens in comic book universes even sleep at night?

“You hear about Coast City?”

“Yeah. I hope they get the bastards who did that.”

“They already did.”

“Killed ‘em?”

“Nah. Exiled them to some asteroid or some shit.”

“What? So they can break free like they always do and come back to annihilate another city? How many cities have to get obliterated before they cut this “No Killing” bullshit? Our superheroes suck man! Hell, I shot a guy the other day after he wouldn’t ’stop in the name of the law,’ as I had plainly instructed.”

“I know. I sniped like eighty people in ‘Nam. Sometimes you just have to lay somebody out…”

Which segues to the next headline…

Actual Heroes Actually Kill

There’s this notion that Superman doesn’t kill because he was raised with rural, Midwestern values. Truth, justice, the American way and all that jazz. Truth is, the American way of justice often results in dead motherfucking bad guys. (You see what I did there with flipping the “Truth” and the “justice” and… yeah…)

A soldiers go to war, kills the enemies who tried to ambush his boys: he comes home a hero. A police officer shoots down a guy who’s holding a gun to a hostage, he’s going to get a medal and a deserved “thank you.”

Now I’m not saying that Superman should swoop down and casually snap a bank robber’s neck because he saw the guy holding a gun, but if he’s battling a supervillain with comparable powers he might need to resort to some supermurder to save a life or two. I’m just sayin’…

I’ve been giving DC a hard time, but when it comes to demonizing the act of killing a bad guy Marvel runs things. The Punisher, The Scourge and Wolverine are all guys viewed as “on the fringe” by other heroes. Borderline lunatics who nobody trusts or wants to work with. They’re Riggs from Lethal weapon with only a fraction of the justification for using deadly force and without the heartwarming “I’m not crazy” – “I know” exchange with their veteran black partners at the end of their adventures.

How over-the-top are the Marvel killers? Wolverine is probably the most “balanced” of the bunch, and his signature fighting style is simply referred to as “Berserker rage!” A guy whose weapons are only good for engaging in bloody, vicious, horrifically entertaining slaughter…

This guy is the most stable killer on the roster? We can’t throw in one balanced, “I’m not thrilled about killing but sometimes you just have to go there” character?

Even when a classic hero isn’t directly responsible for someone’s death they often go overboard in lamenting their role in it. Professor X merely mindwipes Magneto and immediately expresses remorse for the action, nevermind Magneto having just ripped the metal out of Wolverine’s bones and, oh yeah, having just killed countless people by deactiving every electronic device on the planet.

But you know, Charles is a decent dude, so he sorta feels bad about putting an end to all of that carnage. Lest the point of “Killers never prosper” elude us, Marvel decides that Charles’ action was uncharacteristically ruthless enough to help spawn the ultra-villainous, global-threat Onslaught. See what happens when you get too reckless Charlie?

Of course, all of this remorse and the requisite extreme consequences is all the more absurd when you consider…

Nobody Stays Dead Anyway

Magneto? Yeah, in a few years he was fine and back to his old mischief, that rascal! Just like so many others who wear a cape or a mask or both and bite it (or come close) in a comic book. There used to be a saying in comic books that nobody stays dead except for Bucky (Captain America’s version of Robin), Jason Todd (Batman’s version of a Joker-victim-sidekick) and Uncle Ben (Spider-Man’s surrogate pops). Only the people who coined that phrase forgot that Bucky and Jason were superheroes, even if they lacked powers, making them very eligible for rebirth–which came about for both just a couple of years ago.

So really, the only people who stay dead in comic books are the ones who are just regular Joes and Janes trying to get through the day, and the only people killing regular Joes and Janes are the supervillains. Death, in the comic books, is like a better version of prison, one that it takes a little longer to escape from. So really, what’s the harm really in killing a bad guy once in a while?

C’mon Supes! I’m not saying you have to go on a killing spree. But for every scene of you blubbering like a baby there needs to be one like this…

I don’t know what all the smoke is from, but I like to presume it’s the remains of his opponents after a well-deserved vaporizing. That’s what I’m talking about…

Worst Summer Movie Seasons in History! (…since 1989…)

We are nearing what may be one of the most amazing, entertaining, thrilling, orgasm-inducing, eyeball-exploding summer movie seasons of all time here in 2008. Iron Man looks great. Will Smith is going to make us laugh and shout (and possibly twist and gangsta-boogie) in Hancock. Indiana Jones has snapped the shackles of development hell and returned to kill more of America’s mid-20th Century enemies. Oh, and then there’s The Dark Knight, which promises to put a smile on that face whether you want it there or not.

That’s right, this summer is going to physically disfigure you with its awesomeness.

Nonetheless, if you listen closely on nights when all else is silent, you can hear the murmurings of haters ready to denounce this summer as one of the most over-hyped and pathetic summers to ever trot its filth before the eyes of filmgoers.

So, for some perspective, I’ve decided to provide a history lesson on actual horrific summer movie seasons and what makes them so completely evil. First…

A Couple of Rules

1. I’m declaring the summer of ‘89 the first real summer movie season

Anyone fancying themselves a “film buff,” “film geek” or “brotha who knows some shit about movies” knows that Jaws is generally given credit for birthing the concept of the summer blockbuster. Given that it was made in 1975, you might be wondering why I’ve decided to make “1989 the number” (to quote the almighty Chuck D) as opposed to viewing it as just “another summer” (to refute the assertion of Chuck D, the jerk). Well, ‘89 was the year that Tim Burton’s Batman struck with an unprecedented media blitz that stopped just short of deploying an army of Bat-droids to force everyone in the country to watch the movie at Batarang-point. It basically set the standard for advertising your film like it’s an impending meteor strike.

On top of that, you had Indiana Jones coming back for one last crusade to murder all of the Nazis he didn’t get around to in the first flick, plus you had Ghostbusters II and Lethal Weapon 2. It was basically the first summer intentionally loaded with action / adventure oriented blockbusters.

2. We’re measuring the summer as a whole.

No summer movie season is completely bad or completely good. So while each of these summers had some cool movies, the cool movies were ultimately forced to tap out to the devastating armbar applied by the lame movies.

That’s pretty much it for the rules. Now, finally, on to the humorous ridicule of others’ creative efforts!

1990: The ‘89 Hangover (Or “The Summer That Wasn’t”)

What Made it Bad?

In short, the fact that the biggest movie of that summer turned out to be fucking Ghost. A movie with this poster…

…ruled the summer box office, beating out the likes of Die Hard 2 and Total Recall. Note the disturbing dearth of explosions, robots, superheroes, swashing and buckling in the above poster. It’s one thing to let a vulgar sex-comedy become the surprise hit of the summer, but a supernatural romance? It especially stands out given that it’s sandwiched between summers that brought us Batman and Terminator 2. This summer was like the two NBA seasons that interrupted Jordan’s six championships while he was away playing baseball; people forget it even existed, and rightfully so.

This summer is also responsible for bringing us the franchise-souring sequels Robocop 2, Another 48 Hours, the unspeakably abysmal Ghost Dad, and the underwhelming Dick Tracy, which was supposed to be the Batman of that summer, but ultimately had its throat ripped out by Swayze–Road House style.

1995: The First Mega-Lame Summer

1990 was bad, but in its defense the summer movie season was still in its infancy, and hell, it did bring us Die Hard 2. In 1995, however, not even John McClane teamed with Samuel L. Jackson dropping f-bombs while disarming actual bombs could salvage the summer from the mega-bombs blowing apart theaters left & right.

Let’s check the culprits.

…and the poster boy…

…I’ll give you a second to recover from all of the wackness-induced eye-vomiting (sorry about that).

Okay, I know Waterworld wasn’t as bad as it was initially made out to be when it first arrived, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t terrible. I remember Congo being built up as a sort of “Jurassic Park with apes,” and what audiences got instead was “a fucking horrible movie with apes.” Batman Forever kicked off the demise of a franchise, and Judge Dredd is quite possibly the most egregious film adaptation ever.

Sure, 1995 also gave us two Oscar winning flicks (Apollo 13 and Braveheart), but what kind of super-nerd who got his nerdiness courtesy of a radioactive-nerd bite expects their summer to deliver Academy Award worthy dramas based on actual events?

The most fun movie of the ‘95 summer? Mortal Kombat. God’s sake… I don’t even know if I should continue, every other lousy summer has to look at least “okay” in comparison, right? Nonetheless…

1997: The Sins of the Awful

To be fair, this is more of an “honorable mention,” as this summer really wasn’t that bad. Men in Black was good, The Lost World was solid (I don’t care what anyone says, the T-Rex rampaging through San Diego was outstanding cinema, damn it) and Nicolas Cage anchored two dumb-but-fun shoot-em-ups (Con Air and Face / Off… I still don’t get the gratuitous slash in the title, but ah well).

Still, it must be addressed, as this was the summer that saw the release of both Volcano and Batman and Robin. The former is bad enough to make you think it might actually be a practical joke (Ah… you got me! You had me thinking this was gonna be cool! Not shitty! Ah man, good one!) and the latter is the only movie I’m aware of that comes with its own apology for being made when you purchase the DVD.

It took aliens, dinosaurs AND stylized gun violence to prevent this summer from being truly atrocious, which is a bit of a coincidence given that the next year, aliens and stylized gun violence kicked off a shitty summer that was promptly stepped on by a gigantic dinosaur…

1998: God-Ageddon!! (or “Arma-Zilla”… nah, definitely sticking with God-Ageddon)

To begin with, this summer season actually started in April, with Lost in Space, which was programmed to erase itself from your memory after consumption. Later in the month we got The Big Hit, which took the John Woo “Heroic Bloodshed” formula and somehow figured that stripping away the grit and replacing it with bubble-wrap would make it more appealing. Because who wouldn’t like an Americanized version of a Hong Kong action flick where the hitmen look like members of a boy band?

By the time Deep Impact finally came the summer had already taxed your faith in humanity so much that you sort of wanted the comet to win. We were also fed Small Soldiers, Six Days, Seven Nights and the X-Files movie that made us all believe in the existence of extra-terrestrials infinitely more than the possibility of the TV series ever being good again. Bad as those flicks are, they still aren’t the primary reason why ‘98 was so, so awful. The villain here is, of course, Godzilla. Brought to us by the same team that gave the world the highly enjoyable idiocy of Independence Day, the expectations for Godzilla were the size of giant lizard capable of destroying New York City. Which… you know… apparently is an inexact size that fluctuates on a scene-to-scene basis because nobody can be troubled to pay attention to such continuity-related trivialities. I’ll spare you the diatribe, as this is already one long ass posting and everyone pretty much knows why Godzilla sucks. All that needs be said is that, when it hit the big screen and eviscerated its own hype with almost admirable zeal, Godzilla single-handedly ruined a whole summer movie season. The post-traumatic-disappointment of Godzilla was so severe that people thought (and some still insist) that Armageddon was a good movie, the same way starving people would probably consider Applebee’s leftovers a delicacy.

2001: Dumb & Fun Split Up: Fun Takes a Summer Off While Dumb Explores a Solo Career

You see what I did there? I anthropomorphized “dumb” and “fun” and turned them into an entertainment duo that has creative differences and… *ahem*… right, right, I’ll just keep it moving then.

2001 gave us the kind of gratuitous badness that borders on malicious. The Mummy Returns decided to forego much of what made the first film so entertaining (e.g. simplicity and not taking itself seriously) and tried to transform itself into something epic. Unfortunately me, you, your momma and your cousin too went to see it, so director Stephen Sommers thought “Apparently people love pretentious self-importance sprinkled into their mindless pulp adventures!” and gave us the same shit with Van Helsing three years later. (The alternate theory is that Van Helsing is so bad that it actually traveled back through time and stamped its formula for badness on The Mummy Returns. Anyone who’s seen Van Helsing knows that this is entirely plausible, maybe even probable.)

Pearl Harbor coupled a pair of actors wooden enough to draw termites (and hey, I think Affleck gets hated on too much and I actually think Hartnett is cool despite his limited range, but putting them together was just a bad, bad idea) with an action movie director who is religiously opposed to both restraint and takes that last longer than 3 seconds. I’m sure you can guess the results. Jurassic Park III turned the scariest, most dangerous place on Earth into a place where a fucking twelve-year-old can survive alone for days until someone shows up to save him! Hell, if the place is that safe you might as well open it up to the public and let people tour Isla Sorna unguided.

The ‘01 summer also brought us the brilliance of Tomb Raider, Fast and the Furious, and the tepid, celluloid-middle-finger-to-film-fans that was the Planet of the Apes remake.

Other than all of that though… you know… great summer at the movies…

Since Then…

The last years have been bumpy, but not quite as disastrous as the years mentioned above. I was tempted to add 2008 as the year of the Big Letdown given the number of ambitious profile sequels that fell far, far short of expectations (Pirates of the Caribbean, Spider-Man 3, Shrek the Third, Evan Almighty) but I don’t think that the worst of those flicks (Spider-Man 3) is quite as bad as people make it out to be, and there were enough good / fun flicks (The Bourne Ultimatum, Ocean’s 13, Transformers, Superbad) to make up for each failure.

So there we have it folks. A breakdown of the worst summer movie seasons since the beginning of the summer movie season as we know it. I’d like to remind everyone that The New Cool is not liable for the psychological agony that bringing up the memories of any these films may have caused, and invite you to come back soon!

Good Ol’ PG-13 Horror. (Or, “Why Not to Engage in Rating-Profiling”)

In the interest of generating a vicious circle of backlash by lashing out at the PG-13 horror backlash, I’d like to begin by stating that a PG-13 rating in no way reflects the quality of a horror film.

Things like story and direction and performances… they actually have a lot more to do with the quality of the film than the rating. 

“Well, we know that J.  But objectively evaluating a film based on its actual content doesn’t spark a dialogue like declaring ‘PG-13 horror sux!  It’s not even real horror!’” 

I understand, you’ve got to get a reaction from people on the post forums so that they know you exist.  I’m with you friend.  But every once in a while, it’s nice if somebody says something that actually makes some damn sense.  In fact, sometimes someone has to say something that makes so much sense that it shatters your reality into thousands of tiny shards that rain all over your life, vivisecting it like so many shards of shattered reality.

And while I hate to be the type of somebody who says something that destroys existence as you know it, I’m afraid I’m gonna have to be that type of somebody.

Halloween – John Carpenter’s horror masterpiece that no horror aficionado would ever dream of disparriaging - is a PG-13 horror movie.

*J. waits for the masses to stop clamoring – dodges several hurled shuriken that resemble clumsily reassembled shards of numerous shattered realities.

Okay, relax people.  I’m exaggerating a bit there for impact.  Similar to the whole “All PG-13 horror sux!” exaggeration.  Obviously Halloween is rated-R in the United States, and for a reason.  Two reasons in fact:

1) The PG-13 rating didn’t exist in 1978.

2) About 45-seconds or so of essentially pointless female topless-ness.

By pointless I don’t at all mean that I was personally averse to seeing it, or that it was even unrealistic / gratuitous.  What I mean is that P.J. Soles’ breasts are pretty damn far down the list of “Things That Make Halloween Awesome.”  So far down it’s about 50 places below “Michael impales Bob on the wall,” but still about 100 spaces above “Rob Zombie.” (Zing!)

So if you take all of the breasts out of the picture, you’re left with about as much bloodshed as Cry Wolf, less swearing than you can get away with on basic cable and a puny-ass body count that gets its milk money taken by the likes of The Grudge II.   And, also, you’re left with a terrifying movie that needs none of the above to certify it as a genre classic.

If the exact same movie — sans-breasts – was released today it could very easily receive a PG-13.  All of the shit that people complain about in current PG-13 flicks applies to Halloween.  Hell, even the nudity in Carpenter’s flick is presented more as appropriate scenery as opposed to obvious titillation.  Nonetheless it’s a great movie because it’s too busy paying attention to things that actually matter.

You know why the PG-13 Prom Night remake was horrible?  Because it was a horrible movie!  It’s really as simple as getting from “Point A” to  “Point A.”  You need not look at the rating when you can look at the film for all of the evidence you will ever need.  You could’ve thrown a parade of strippers, copious intestines and enough profanity to make Joey Gazelle from Running Scared look at you and say “Gotdamn, stop saying fuck so fucking much!” into this movie and it would still be a terrible movie because none of that stuff actually makes a movie good.  At most it can make it “fun” if the movie is going for the tongue-in-cheek, over-the-top, Bad Taste angle, but even those types of films have more intelligence and skill involved than even their fans give them credit for.

Meanwhile, hardcore R-horror flicks such as AVP : Requiem, Hostel II, and Captivity, have all the gore, f-bombs, naked chicks and shitty-movie-ness you could ever hope for.

Do you… do you see what I’m getting at here?  I’ll let you get back to your regularly scheduled ranting about things that are irrelevant, but just give me a nod.

C’mon… I won’t tell anybody else. 

There.  Cool.  Be on your merry way.

Oh, right… all of this stuff on the floor here…  Well, I’d give you a broom and some scotch tape, but truth be told, I’d just come back sometime in the near future and re-shatter it.

Remember when I said that I hate to be a certain type of somebody…?

…yeah…

10 People Guaranteed to Ruin a Pickup Basketball Game – Part 2

5. The Guy Who “Hasn’t Played in a While”

I’ll admit, I’ve recently been this guy, which is how I can guarantee that this guy will ruin your pickup game. It doesn’t matter if the guy looks like he’s in shape, looks like he can ball, hit every shot while shooting around on the other goal in between games. He’s gonna be winded the first time up the court, so he’ll pretty much adopt an “I’m not fighting through any screens or challenging any shots or running back on defense” philosophy. And after that, whoever he’s guarding is going to kill him. Don’t bother trying to get Mr. “Hasn’t Played in a While” guy fired up by shouting “Come on man! D-Up!” because you’ll probably get a response along the lines of “Look, I told you I haven’t played in a while. I’m tired, ‘kay!”

4. Football Players

Yes, there are some football players who can hoop. Iverson was an All-Universe QB in high school after all. But chances are, if somebody steps on the court looking like a JUCO linebacker, you are about to have a worthless, fucked up run, especially on the other team. What these Butkus-award-winning cats don’t realize is that just being crazy-strong and athletic doesn’t mean you can ball or belong anywhere near a basketball court. It just means that your cartoonishly violent aggression is going to result in several injuries and possibly a severe case of “Tackled Into a Coma” for one unfortunate opponent. The worst things about football players on the court is that they’re INSANELY sensitive about anyone getting the least bit physical with them…

(HIM: “Oh, that’s the way you wanna play it? That’s how we’re playin’? All right then. All right..”

YOU: “What? No. I don’t even know what you’re talking about. I was just blocking you out for the rebound. Why are you putting cleats on? What are you planning?! Stay the hell away from me!!”)

…and they always get picked, because the guy picking one knows that the football guy is going to brutalize the will-to-compete out of the other team about five points into the game.

3. Buddies Who Think They’re Way Better Than They Actually Are

You almost can’t find a pickup game where there’s not at least one guy out there who thinks he’s a superstar. Truth is, actual superstars play with other actual superstars in secret, underground Death-Tourneys that regular hoopers aren’t invited to. Or, when they do play with the commoners, they actually help you win the game, and not help you beat the other team in a “Most Shot Attempts While Still Getting Blown Out” contest. So the guy who just thinks he’s a superstar is really just a dude taking out his frustrations with not making the roster at the D-III school he goes to by jacking up a shot every time he touches the ball. But this type of guy is so ubiquitous that he doesn’t really ruin a game: most players know him well enough when they see him and everyone else on the team adjusts accordingly.

What ruins the game is when he’s paired with his pal, who also didn’t make the roster at the University of Mini-Metropolitan State A&T, and these two try to take on the other team two-on-five. Freezing them out isn’t so easy now. Invariably, one thinks he can run point while the other thinks that “Isolation Me” is the only sensible play to run on offense. The point-guard guy throws his buddy alleys that they couldn’t even get right just playing around between games, they run two man plays that they drafted up in the car on the way to the gym that would only work if nobody was defending them and if they were actually any good, and, of course, they get mad at anyone else who has the audacity to take a shot. These are the guys complaining “You should’ve kicked it out to one of us” after you’ve pulled down an offensive rebound from one of their bricks and made the putback for game point. They’re easily the most hated dudes in the gym, but still not the most ruinous of game-ruiners…

2. Bad Team-Picker Dude

This motherfucker…

The primary problem is he’s not the least bit competitive, he’s just there to have fun. So, without consideration of what will make the teams balanced he picks up his friends or the people he thinks are nice guys, plus one (always just one) other guy who can actually ball but won’t stand a chance given the three other bums that the team captain picked up.

When teams are ridiculously unbalanced, people like to complain about the guy who picked for the stacked team, but it’s almost ALWAYS the other team captain’s fault. The most common scenario is that he picks a team where the tallest dude is 5′9″, letting the other team put together a 5 where the shortest player is a 6′3″ dude who was All-Region back in high school before blowing out his knee, but since then he’s been playing in Greece and has rehabbed pretty well, and the injury forced him to focus on other aspects of his game that don’t rely on his world-class athleticism so now he’s a better player for it and has a workout with the Spurs scheduled for the end of summer.

Yeah, you had first pick, could’ve grabbed him, but you picked your boy Jake because you two have the same favorite movie. You know how everyone knows that’s why you picked Jake? Because throughout the game, you and Jake are saying “I thought you said you’d make it Chitwood!” and “I think it’s time you started playing ball again Chitwood!” after every airball you throw up, and laughing it up like it’s the cutest thing in the world. Because nobody else has ever seen Hoosiers, just you two, and you’re in your own little world together, you two crazy kids, just having a blast being pals playing a game. Meanwhile the one guy on your team who can actually play is giving serious thought to kneecapping you.

Hey, it’s cool to just have fun and not to take things too seriously and all, but not when there are fifty other dudes waiting on the sideline and you won’t be back up for next for another hour and a half. That may be okay for you because you haven’t got shit else to do, but I’m here on my lunch break you son of a bitch! At least have the decency to not pick me for the love of God!

*Ahem*

Speaking of the cats waiting on the sideline…

1. The Motherfuckers Shooting Around On the Other End of the Court

Here’s something crazy that happens during basketball games. Defenders sometimes get steals, or even just get a rebound, and suddenly rush up the other end of the court with their teammates in an attempt to quickly score. This is called a “fast break,” and is a common basketball term that is familiar even with people who don’t know a damn thing about basketball. So you might think that someone who goes to a gym to play ball should be aware of the “fast break” that could happen at any given moment during a game, and would then take it upon themselves to not do anything that might interfere with a potential “fast break” during a game that they’re not involved in.

You might think that, but then you’d also be horribly, stupidly, unbelievably wrong.

As soon as the teams head up to the other end of the court, some toolbags near the now temporarily open basket will start shooting, oblivious and indifferent to the potential “fast break” that could come back their way. This wouldn’t be such a crime against all things hoop-related if they were just shooting layups or practicing a few post moves where they could easily move off-court when said “fast break” comes. But no, they’re bombing threes and playing HORSE, and they’re using those terrible rubber balls you win at the carnival that bounce more erratically than coked-out nightclub security.

Of all the things that can ruin a pickup game, there’s not much worse than when you’re tied up at game point, you manage to get that crucial stop, take the long rebound, give a perfect outlet to your streaking point guard who has a guy running parallel on the opposite wing and a big man trailing in the 3-on-2 break… just to see it all destroyed before it can even materialize because the fucking Chitwood twins are playing “Let’s Pretend There’s 5 Seconds Left in the State Finals and You Need to Hit a 3 to Win It!” on your basket. They can’t hear everyone else shouting “Ball coming!” because they’re so immersed in the fantasy that they only hear the roar of the crowd, and only see the black jerseys of their hated rivals who’ve bribed the refs and cheated to get their current lead, and only feel the serenity of knowing that even if they miss this game-winning buzzer-beater, their imaginary co-prom-queen girlfriends will still love them.

And only say “Oops. Our bad bro,” while giggling like a 1st-grader saying “boobies” after colliding with a defender and bringing that perfect break to a screeching halt.

If there’s a more justifiable-homicide-inspiring thing that could happen during a pickup game, then… well… make your own list and put it on there then, damn it. I can’t do everything…

10 People Guaranteed to Ruin a PickUp Basketball Game – Part 1

Here I am, second blog in already defying my own personal promise to never resort to a “Top 10″ list.  Ah well.  It’s not even a “Top” 10 per se, more like a “Randomly Selected but Still Relevant to the Topic” 10.  Anyone who plays ball knows that there are more than 10 types of characters who you hate to see signing up on the board at the gym, or saying they’ve got next on the sideline.  This is just a sampling. 

10. Dudes Playing in Non-Hoop Gear 

I propose a new rule: in every gym and every park where 5-on-5 full court is being played, if you show up wearing a button up, khaki cargo shorts, New Balance cross trainers and a hat on (backwards too?  Are you serious?) you are not allowed to shoot for captains, or claim you’ve got next, or be picked up by anyone else unless you are the 10th guy and without you a game can’t be played.  If you are selected, it is the obligation of your teammates to freeze you out, never pass to you, intentionally make you guard the other team’s best guy so he can make you look even more foolish than wearing that stupid seashell necklace on the court does, and yell at you for any shot that you might have the chance to take, even if you make it. 

This may sound harsh, but this is what you get for coming to the court dressed like you should be at Dave & Busters or Six Flags shooting at a rim to win stuffed animals.

9. Dudes Playing In Too Much Hoop-Gear

I know, I know, you think that the headband, prescription goggles, mouthpiece, wristbands, elbow pads, knee braces, ankle braces and matching uniform make you look like the most versatile, well-prepared, Swiss-Army-Basketball-Player ever.

To everyone else it makes you look like you can’t shoot, dribble, defend, rebound, pass, run, walk, think clearly, get a date, or be trusted to dress yourself. 

8. Dudes With Superfluous Hustle and Zero Skill

It wouldn’t be so bad if you weren’t constantly screaming, “Come on guys! Let’s hustle! Dive on the floor for the ball! Grab a rebound!”, while all you’ve done is run around the court setting unnecessary screens, missing wide open layups because you’re sprinting at the rim like you’re trying to chase it down and double dribbling/traveling/carrying all at once because you’ve got way too much energy to be concerned with stupid things like fundamentals and mechanics and not turning the damn ball over. 

(On a side note…double dribbling?!  Anybody who double dribbles should be immediately expelled from the game, even if he is the 10th guy and so it leaves the other team shorthanded.  If they refuse to leave, you should have every right to chop their hands off.)

7. Dudes Who Call Violations That Don’t Exist in Pickup Games 

Here are a list of violations that don’t exist in pickup basketball:

Over and Back.

Three Seconds in the Paint.

Charging.

Facemask.*

Dunking on You.*

*-Also not violations in any other form of basketball.

The worst thing about cats who make these calls is that they will one day become junior high or high school refs, and will choke on all of the calls they want to make in pickup games.

6. Girls Who Aren’t Really, Really Good 

Ah hell… here we go. 

Okay, listen, I promise on every imaginable sacred object that I am not sexist.  But see, when a woman who isn’t really, really good steps on the court, it just fucks the game up.  I’m sorry, but it does. 

See, if it’s a guy and he’s not that good, you don’t feel bad when you block his shot off the backboard or shove him to the floor to get a loose ball.  With a girl who isn’t that good on the court though, on one hand, you want to respect her as a player and athlete. On the other hand, you’re going to feel bad when you pin her layup to the glass with two hands and instinctively scream “You suck and deserve to die!” (the standard taunt after such a play). 

Maybe this one just stems from an incident in college that I experienced.  I won’t get into it now, but if I bring it up in a later article it’ll probably be tagged with words like “accidentally,” “dunking,” “on a girl,” “apologizing” and “secret high-fives.”

Part II

A Few Things You Might Not Have Known About Black Dudes

Here I am, kicking off the New Cool by writing about what I know, which is a standard rule of writing. Being a black dude, I know a little bit about myself. Just a little bit. And I thought, for the benefit of the curious, I’d share a few things about black dudes that you may be unaware of.

We’re All Nerdier Than We Let On

Not tremendously nerdier, mind you, but enough that it warrants mentioning. Of course, if you ask one of us directly we’ll deny it. Vehemently. Then take it upon ourselves to do something decidedly un-nerdy on the spot – make out with your wife, throw back seven shots of vodka less than 30 seconds, dunk on you…whatever the situation calls for – just to prove that your wild accusation is laughably unfounded. You could arrest him on murder charges and have him facing 25-to-life and if his only alibi is that, during the time when the crime occurred, he was online editing the Wikipedia article on the Fermi paradox to correct numerous mistakes he spotted, well, you can count on him saying “What the hell, I did it,” sooner than confessing to the nerdy behavior.

But if you catch that black dude in a moment of extreme weakness – or in a momentary lapse of denial – he might confess to his favorite X-Men comic book storyline or how much he’s anticipating Starcraft II because he’s so damn good at the first one that it’s not even fun to him anymore.

And really, if you’ve been paying attention, this isn’t really surprising. How else does Chris Tucker go from the angry-ass brother we used to see on Def Comedy Jam…

…to giving us the most accurate portrayal of a Space-Liberace imaginable?

Moving on…

We Know Your “Other Black Friend” Didn’t Tell You That Joke First

I’m presuming black girls don’t go through this, because I’m presuming girls don’t sit around telling each other random jokes. That’s a dude thing.

And if there’s a black dude in a largely non-black dude crew, it’s a non-black dude thing to tell a racist joke prefaced with, “You can’t get mad because one of my other black friends told this to me first.” I’ll go ahead and say what we all already know: that motherfucker does not exist. His name might as well be Othello; he is not a real person. We have always known this and always have an initial desire to punch you in the mouth before the joke gets out, but decide against it because we’re a little bit curious about if the joke is going to be funny (you should just say, “Look, this joke is horribly racist, but it’s hilarious, so I must share it with everyone, including the one person who might try to rip my throat out for it.” We’ll be seriously interested in hearing it. It better be fucking hysterical though…), and because of one more thing I’d like to share…

We Don’t All Think That We Can Beat Everyone Up

In the Friday the 13th Movies, only two people have ever willingly engaged in hand-to-hand combat with Jason “I Shrug Off Bullets and Stabbings and Can Return From the Dead but You’re Going to Beat Me Up? Seriously? That’s Your Gameplan?” Voorhees. One was a fucking android.

The other was this dude.

This was part of an 80’s movie trend where the token black guy always thought he could beat up every non-black person in the world. Or every non-black person thought that the black guy could beat them up. Or both. Often times it needn’t even come to fisticuffs. In Back to the Future and Revenge of the Nerds the black guys just show up and look mean and the white dudes run away, even if they have superior numbers, or back off to let the nerds give a speech encouraging other people to admit their own feelings of social awkwardness in a moment of nerd unity – or “nerdity” (the black dudes notably abstaining from joining in).

Trust me, we’ve grown up on enough Kung-Fu movies to know that, if nothing else, anybody wearing a ghi can beat up anybody who isn’t wearing one, regardless of race. If we actually thought that we could beat everyone else up – and further, if other races actually thought it too – then you know, there wouldn’t be any of that police brutality, and the civil rights movement would’ve been a much easier and swifter transition without all of the brutality and lynch-mobs and name-calling. Apartheid would’ve never gotten off the ground in South Africa. In fact, we can safely assume that the whole slavery episode would’ve played out a bit differently…

“I said pick that cotton boy!”

“Boy? Who’re calling a boy? Motherfucker I will knock yo’ ass out just by thinking about it.”

“Okay, okay. My mistake. You know it’s hot out here, even under this parasol, and I guess that has me a little bit irritable but you’re right, my tone was uncalled for and my choice of words poor.”

“Unacceptable and disrespectful is what it was. I would telekinetically bludgeon you to death right now if… you know… if that wasnt’ something that only nerds could do. Or even know about. Which… means I don’t know about it. Obviously. Because I am definitely, definitely not a nerd. But that’s what you’re thinking isn’t it? That I’m some kind of a nerd? Is that it? You callin’ me a nerd, man ? You better not be callin’ me a nerd, man, because I will mind-whip- – “

“Woah-woah-woah, let’s just calm down. No need to get violent here. Let’s just call it a day already, get out of the sun, and I’ll have the Mrs. fix us up some lemonade and–”

“And some waffles, bitch! And a Caesar’s salad to start with!”

“… … … Sure, no problem. Have that out to you guys in a minute.”