The Silver Lining… Michael Bay’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Aliens

I’ve come to Michael Bay’s defense once before.  I’m not going to do it again.

But I might have to find The Silver Lining in his decision to reboot the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles as aliens.

These are not Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

What good might I find in the seemingly asinine idea to change the beloved oozy origin of our pizza-loving, sewer-dwelling crime fighters?  Midi-chlorians, anyone?

These are not Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Sometimes such changes work.  In the Sam Raimi Spider-Man series, didn’t a genetically altered spider make a lot more sense than a radioactive one?  (Maybe not enough.  Part 3 did suck, and the new film is abandoning that concept.)

This might be a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.

I think the best part is that we might finally get to see this guy: Krang.

Okay, he's technically from Dimension X, but isn't that alien enough?

Four movies in, and the best baddies we’ve seen are these two?

Tokka and Rahzar. Why not Bebop and Rocksteady?

That’s at least my hope.  I can’t take any more Shredder nonsense…

InASense, Lost… How Did These Slip Through The Approval Department?

First, the depths to which our society is willing to let, um, society go to will never cease to sadden me.  Case in point – an item I found in a vending machine at a local Coney Island restaurant:

Even the Care Bears are See-Thru...

Second, I guess we’ve been in the sewers gutters for a while now.  A magnet to mull over:

Alternate slogan: "Gimme a piece of that pie!"

InASense, Lost… Toys Are Not For Wii Ones

My sister, Tammie, had a good chortle guffaw chuckle when she heard me ask this one time:

Hey Chris, what does it mean when my Wii’s glowing blue?

She lost it, and upon thinking how ridiculous it sounded out of context, others joined her giggles, myself included.  As it turns out, she may slowly be turning into my foil.

Let me further explain.

Last night, one of my friends stopped by with his two sons.  They’re cute enough, nice enough kids, but where my friend made the mistake was to inform his children that I had toys.

What I have are not toys.  They’re collectibles.  Two totally different things.

Upon arriving, and not expecting them to stay long as I had mentioned plans to head to trivia, the boys whipped off their scarves and knit caps and bundled coats and proclaimed, “Where’s the toys?”

I begrudgingly lead the trio back to my DVD room (yes, they have their own room… they kinda require a room when they reach 1200+).  In there, I have Indiana Jones figures, Lego playsets, Transformers, and Matt Trakker of M.A.S.K. re-released as a G.I. Joe, all in their packages.  Of course, the first thing to reached for is Trakker.

“I know how to put this together,” the oldest proclaimed.

“So do I,” was my response as I put it back.

On one of the cabinets, I have some open figures on display which include mini Ninja Turtles, mini Transformers, a mini Grimlock cartoon figure that does not move, and both versions of Bumblebee from the Michael Bay movie.

They moved onto these collectibles, and within minutes, Grimlock was in pieces (I don’t think he’s supposed to come that much apart, if even at all), the rubberbands holding the weapons in the Turtles’ hands were snapped, and the ’77 Camaro Bumblebee was being stabbed by his own laser sword.

I have learned patience through all the years of working with computers, but when it comes to children—

My friend kept talking to me and I kept thinking, doesn’t he see what they’re doing?  The youngest had to go #2 and took Raphael with him.  Raphael!  RAPHAEL?!

When they were finally getting packed up to ship out, I told my friend he could visit with them again in about 10 years.

Now back to Tammie.  As I recounted the situation to her, she just laughed at me again.  The definition of a foil according to Answers.com:

One that by contrast underscores or enhances the distinctive characteristics of another: “I am resolved my husband shall not be a rival, but a foil to me” (Charlotte Brontë).

She said, “You do realize you’re complaining about children playing with your toys.”

I still can’t find Grimlock’s lower jaw.