Why World Cup is Not For Me

They say there are only seven basic plots in literature:

Overcoming The Monster

Rags To Riches

The Quest

Voyage and Return

Comedy

Tragedy

Rebirth

That's it. Sure, within these seven basic plots there are infinite and myriad twists and turns, plot variations, and characterizations. You can even mash them up, but in the end it's still a Rags to Riches story that's comedic, or a Quest with tragedy along the way. But we enjoy those variations... that's why we read the books and see the movies.

Team sports are the same.  Except there are only three basic games in sports:

Score a Goal

Ha! You Missed

Round the Bases

Score a Goal:  This category encompasses most sports. Football, soccer, basketball, hockey, lacrosse, polo, water polo, rugby. They all take place on a rectangular playing field (indoors or out) with a goal at either end. The surfaces may be different but the object is the same... to get your ball or puck or whatever into your opponent's goal. It's pretty simple. The goal may be defended by a specific player or not but it is always defended by the entire team, who play defensively to stop their opponent from scoring. Pretty simple.

Ha! You Missed:  These sports are played with a racquet, which is used to hit an implement like a ball or a shuttlecock over a net or against a wall. Sometimes the racquet is an actual racquet, sometimes it's the player's hands or arms. Players score points by making their opponents miss a shot or hit the ball out of bounds. These sports include tennis, ping pong, badminton, squash, racquetball, handball, volleyball. We often don't think of most of these as team sports, but volleyball definitely is, and you can play doubles in most of the others, so I think that counts.

Round the Bases:  Baseball, softball, cricket... hit a ball with a bat and run the bases. You get it.

There are lots of other sports that don't seem to fall within these parameters, but they do. Curling, shuffleboard, lawn bowling and bocce are all the same game, and all of them variations of Score a Goal. Even golf... everybody's going to get their ball in the goal 18 times, you defend against your opponents by doing it in fewer strokes.

So all that said, why is World Cup not for me?

Because soccer is boring.

There, I said it.

Look, I know these guys are great athletes, with incredible stamina and strength, and I respect their ball handling skill and athleticism. But frankly, the only time soccer is exciting is when a team is near the goal, close to scoring. Add all that time up and it's about 5 minutes per match.  Watching these guys run the ball up and down the field for the other 85 minutes is simplyzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Sorry, I nodded off just thinking about it.

So what's the point?  The point is that if I'm going to invest more than an hour watching a sporting event where only 3 or 4 points are scored for the entire game, I'll watch hockey or basketball.  They're the same damn game, but with tons more action and excitement.

Flycatcher and Fred

Check out this video shot in super slow motion on the NYC subway. It's pretty cool. It's so slo-mo that you forget it's video and start viewing it as a series of moving portraits. Only if you look very, very carefully can you see one or two people actually moving... it's that over cranked. It's like some trippy 3D never ending panoramic photo.

I like it.

The problem is that now every one of these people is in this guy's movie and they don't even know it. They were not asked to give permission, or compensated, and now it's all over the Internet, forever.

How do we feel about that?

Personally, I feel that even in public, people are entitled to a reasonable expectation of privacy, that their face is not going to be put on the internet without their knowledge. The man who made this video, Adam Magyr, is an artist and likely profits (or hopes to) from the sale and/or display of his work. This isn't an iPhone video, the guy definitely needed permission from the MTA to mount his camera in a subway car, so shouldn't he also need permission from the subjects he is shooting?

Now if I was to do a shot like this as part of a commercial, at the very least I would need a release from every person on this platform, and the client would also need to compensate them, since they are appearing in a commercial and the client will profit from sales generated by that commercial. It's kind of like that J-Lo/Fiat commercial that showed a mural by Tats Cru without getting the artist's permission first.

I know this isn't a commercial, but it's not like it's a photograph that's hanging in someone's house. This is posted on the Internet for everyone to see on Magyr's website, as well as the Gothamist, and anyone else who may have written about it. It's not a crowded sidewalk in a movie where there's a ton of people and no one face is featured. Every single one of these people is featured prominently in this work. They did not contract with him to create this work. They are models in his art, and the last time I checked, models get paid.

I'm very much aware that we're constantly and unwittingly being photographed by omnipresent security cameras but it's not the same thing. Security video is shot for security purposes. Maybe an infinitesimal amount ends up on the Internet, available to the public, but for the most part, no. This video was created by Magyr expressly to be viewed by the public, and that's a different thing entirely.

I'm not a Magyr hater, I've looked on his site and I like the work. What this really does is open the door to a social experiment I've been dying to try but up till now didn't feel was appropriate.

Here's a photo I took of my wife and kids on the High Line on Mother's Day, 2012. I've blurred my girls because a) they're my girls, and b) this is the Internet, and privacy is the whole point of this exercise anyway. Trust me, they're gorgeous.

It's the desktop photo on my laptop, so I look at it every day. A lot. After a couple of weeks I began to wonder about the other people I'd captured inadvertently in the photo, particularly the two gentleman flanking my girls.

The fellow on the left was captured at a particularly inopportune moment (for him, anyway). I call him "Flycatcher".

The other (a harmless enough looking bespectacled chap), I simply call "Fred." I don't know why, he just looks like a "Fred" to me.

I've often wondered if I posted this image on Facebook inquiring "do you know these guys?" what would happen. Is my social circle, and my social circle's circle and their circle, and so on and so on and so on, robust enough that in time this photo would reach people who knew Flycatcher and Fred? I tend to think yes. Because even though it's a pretty big city, it's a small, small world.

Granted, this blog has a much smaller footprint than a status update on Facebook, but it's a place to start.

But more importantly, Flycatcher... Fred... anyone? 

Why Billionaires Make Good Mayors

Thank you Bill de Blasio for bringing NYC one step closer to being just exactly like every other city in the world.

Forget education, forget murder, forget stop and frisk. No, one of the very first things Mayor de Blasio has vowed to do is to rid New York City of that modern day scourge commonly known as the horse drawn carriage.  

Kudos. Great job. Way to prioritize.

De Blasio, in conjunction with an organization called NYCLASS proposes to replace the 68 medallioned carriages with antique styled electric cars, driven by the same carriage drivers. But wouldn't that then make these cars taxis? Hey, NYC taxi drivers are bad enough, now we're going to add another 70 or so horse drivers to their ranks? Sounds like a plan.

As it turns out, NYCLASS and Bill de Blasio are such close political bedfellows because NYCLASS is so very anti-Christine Quinn. NYCLASS spent over $120,000 on an anti-Christine Quinn phone and leaflet campaign for the September primary election. They also made a hefty donation to "New York is Not for Sale," an anti-Quinn group. With Quinn (de Blasio's only real Democratic competition) off the ticket, de Blasio became a lock as the Democratic candidate for mayor.

NYCLASS bills itself as an animal rights group, but really is a group solely devoted to banning the horse drawn carriage industry in NYC. On the entire NYCLASS website, there's only three short paragraphs devoted to the health and well being of carriage horses, and nothing at all about any other creatures, which seems pretty sparse for an organization whose mission is to "Get Political for Animals". And although they purport to advocate for 10 other animal issues, there is next to nothing about any of those causes on their website.

I'm no Woodward or Bernstein, but you don't have to dig too deep to find out that the co-founder and President of NYCLASS, Steve Nislick, is also the CEO of Edison Properties, a real estate company that owns parking lots, office buildings, and mini storage spaces.

Waaaait a second... if you do away with the carriage horses then you won't need stables. And if you don't need stables, then 4 pieces of prime real estate on the West Side are suddenly freed up for development. And if you replace the carriages with electric cars, you're going to need somewhere to park those cars. And if an organization run by the CEO of a big real estate development firm that builds and manages parking facilities and who helped Bill de Blasio get elected is a major proponent of eliminating the carriage industry... what an incredible coincidence!

No, this doesn't sound political to me at all.

Hey, I'm not the only person to make this real estate connection. The New York Times just ran a piece in their editors blog, in which Andrew Rosenthal notes that 

"...one of the big driving forces hiding behind the anti-cruelty front of the anti-carriage campaign are real estate developers. Is it possible they want to turn the stables in prime Manhattan locations into far more lucrative condos?"

Carriage horses in New York City are generally healthy and well treated. The New York Times visited the Clinton Park Stables and found it to have large stalls, flowing water and plenty of hay. An independent audit of the carriage horse industry commissioned by the NYC Comptrollers office in 2007 concluded that:

 "Neither the ASPCA inspector nor the DOHMH veterinarian consultant found any serious violations regarding the health and safety of the horses when we accompanied them to the stables." 

Even the ASPCA is "...not opposed to the use of horses and other equines in pulling carts and carriages for hire, provided that all of the animals' physiological and behavioral needs are fully met." There is nothing inhumane about a horse pulling a carriage. Horses have been pulling us and our crap around for thousands of years. 

In the mid 19th century, the streets of NY literally teemed with horses, 100,000 to 200,000 of them, horses that pulled omnibuses, streetcars, delivery vans, all the while breathing the smoke from omnipresent coal fires, and whatever else happened to be burning at the time. They were frequently whipped and abused to urge them to pull heavy loads. Overworked horses frequently died on city streets; in 1880 NYC removed 15,000 dead horses from its streets. Sometimes a large carcass would simply be left to rot. The life expectancy of a streetcar horse in the the 1800's was 4 years.¹ 

Horses are capable of pulling 2-3 times their own body weight on wheels over paved ground pretty much all day long. Even fully loaded, a carriage is quite easy for a large horse to pull.² NYC carriage horses work 10 hour days, with a 15 minute break for every two pulling hours. They are not permitted to work when the temperature is over 90º or below 19º and they must be covered with blankets during the winter months while awaiting riders. Compared to his 19th century brethren, the life of a modern carriage horse sounds pretty darn humane. 

Do carriage horses breathe automobile exhaust and tailpipe emissions? Yes, but so do garbage men, road crews, Con Ed repairmen, and you and I when we walk down the street or go for a run along the FDR drive. And as far as safety, according to NYCLASS there have been over 18 horse drawn carriage accidents in the past two years. I don't know what "over 18" means. Does it mean 18½? 19? 50? Why not just say the number? In 2012 in Manhattan alone, there were 9,290 injuries and 51 fatalities in accidents involving motor vehicles or bicycles, which by comparison makes a horse drawn carriage seem like the safest form of travel ever invented.

This is why electing a billionaire as mayor is not a terrible idea. Rich guys like Michael Bloomberg, who fund their own campaigns and do not need to make deals with individuals or organizations in return for hefty campaign donations are beholden to no one. They can proceed with doing what's best for the city and its inhabitants without worrying about fulfilling a promise to a labor union or other special interest group. All I know is, I can't remember the last time I left a bar or restaurant reeking of second hand smoke, and I don't miss it. Thanks Mike.

And maybe for the last 12 years, New Yorkers got used to that, got a little spoiled, and forgot that that's the way the political machine works. But that is how the machine works, and now Bill de Blasio owes NYCLASS and Steve Nislick a big fat favor.

And this is it.



¹  Factual information on the life of horses in NYC from "The Horse and the Urban Environment"  http://www.enviroliteracy.org/article.php/578.html and "When Horses Posed a Public Health Hazard" http://cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/06/09/when-horses-posed-a-public-health-hazard/?_r=0
²  "The 12 Most Common Carriage Horse Myths Debunked" http://www.equiculture.org/carriage-horse-myths.aspx

I'm Just Saying...

I love New York.

I no longer live in the city, but I used to. And I do commute to the city five days a week. So unlike the tourists and the out of towners, I think I can consider myself a New Yorker. And like most people who live or work in New York, I've learned to deal with the minor inconveniences. You know, the cab that drives right by you even though his light is on and your arm is clearly raised.  The guy on the subway whose earphones are so loud he might as well not be wearing them at all. $4.50 for a Chobani at the deli by the office.

Yeah, I get it. It's the price we pay for living in the best place on earth. That said though, over the past couple of years I've more and more frequently encountered some quality of life offenses so egregious that I think something must be done.

Mayor Bloomberg, put these on your list:

Escaletiquette

The concept of an escalator is pretty simple. It's a moving stairway. It goes up or down. You can stand there until the ride is over, or if you choose to hasten the experience you can climb or descend the moving stairs. Over time, an escalator etiquette developed... slow traffic (i.e. standing) on the right, fast traffic (i.e. walking) on the left. For over a hundred years that arrangement worked out pretty well.  So when was it decided that this system was no longer in play?

I first noticed this a couple of years ago and I initially assumed that these "standers" blocking my way were tourists, unfamiliar with the ebb and flow of city life. And at first this was mostly true. But as time went on I noticed fewer fanny packs and brightly flowered jackets, less rucksacks and Danish overbites, and more suits, briefcases, and the black on black garb that is the uniform of NYC.

What happened? New York, had you forgotten yourself? Had the never ending influx of people who have no idea what they're doing or where they're going dragged you down to the lowest common denominator of "what the hell, I'll just stand here"?

Oh my goodness.  I shudder to think it.

Is that the sky up there?

Why are you standing there? Why the fuck are you just standing there looking up at the sky like a turkey in the rain?

This is the endgame of escaletiquette, the moment when the person in front of you gets off the escalator or reaches the top of the stairs, and then... just stands there.

HEY DIMWIT, THERE'S A SUBWAY STATION FULL OF PEOPLE RIGHT BEHIND YOU WHO NEED TO GET OUT OF THE STATION AND ONTO THE STREET!

I mean really, are you so oblivious to everything around you? Step to the fucking side for fuck's sake.

You missed the train, dumb ass

Lots of subway stations in NYC serve multiple lines, but many of them do not.  So there's only one train at a time that's going to enter or leave that station. Yet, I can't tell you how many times I'll get off a train with a hundred other people and get halfway up the the staircase only to find one desperately determined traveler pushing his way down, like a salmon forcing his way downstream.  As if shoving me down the stairs is somehow going to reverse time, like Superman flying speedily around the earth in the opposite direction, and make the train magically reappear in the station, just for you.

The train came.  A lot of people got off. The train left. You missed it.

Get out of the way and wait for the next one.

Where's the rest of your fucking foursome?

A walk down a New York City sidewalk on a rainy afternoon is like a stroll down a quiet country lane. Just you and nature, the birds tweeting, the rain pattering down on your outlandishly oversized umbrella and OH YEAH, A THOUSAND OTHER PEDESTRIANS PACKED SHOULDER TO SHOULDER TRYING TO MAKE THEIR WAY DOWN THE SIDEWALK BUT THEY CAN'T GET PAST YOU AND YOUR BIG ASS POP UP TENT.

You've probably been poked in the eye, forced off the sidewalk, or missed a train or a cab because you couldn't get around someone's gigantic umbrella. Did you know that some golf umbrellas are seventy two inches wide? Seventy two inches... that's six feet across! The sidewalks in NY are barely wide enough to begin with... then you've got to navigate a row of garbage bags on the curb side and the inevitable scaffolding that seems to permanently encase 60% of all the buildings in NY at any one time on the other. On a good day two of these umbrellas would take up the entire sidewalk.  On a regular day... forget about it.

Look at that black and yellow monster up there. First of all, it's just really aggressive looking. A little scary. It appears to be devouring the umbrella below it; the guy in front looks like he's hurrying to get out of the way. It's big enough to take up fully one whole side of the staircase and half of the other. How can anyone possibly justify that? Are there people truly so entitled that they don't care that anyone else has to traverse the same walkways as them?  Can they even see us? Do they simply believe that the world will just make way for them and their hang glider?

Mary Poppins' umbrella was less than half the size of this thing and she could fly all around London with it. Do us all a favor and fly the fuck away.

Please.

It's Short, and It Goes By Fast

On Friday, July 12, my friend Steve was standing on a platform in Grand Central Station, waiting for his train home from work.

Another summer, another Friday, another day in the city.

Around 5:30 he suffered a massive brain aneurysm and fell to the ground.

By Sunday morning he was gone.

Eleven days shy of his 47th birthday, Steve was a young man. He was quick to smile and had an infectious laugh. He was active and fit. He worked out at a gym. He was deeply involved in his church.

He leaves a beautiful wife and two beautiful girls, all of whom he adored, and they him. Our daughters have been best friends since pre-K and our families are close.

In his short lifetime, Steve touched a countless number of people. I know this because over the past week I've met so many of them, too many of his friends and family and colleagues to count.

At Steve's funeral service, the pastor eulogized Steve as a good man, and unquestionably, he was.

I say Steve was not merely a good man, he was the best of men.

From what I understand, police and emergency services were quick to respond on that day. Still, I think of Steve lying on that platform in Grand Central, surrounded by people yet so utterly alone. It breaks my heart and terrifies me at the same time.

That could be me. It could be you. It could be any one of us. It is a bitter demonstration that life is short, and it goes by fast.

At a time like this, some would say "live every day like it's your last," and this is a fantastic idea... for millionaires, single people, and renters.

But in the real world, if I lived every day like it was my last I'd stop going to work and I'd keep my kids home from school and my family would spend every day just doing fun stuff and laughing.

I'd also drink a lot of Scotch. Which I do now anyway, but it would seem more justified somehow if it was my "last" day.

This fun loving bacchanal would last about a week I think, maybe two, until I could no longer make the mortgage payment, or cover the school tuition, until the fridge was empty and the cars were out of gas. Until the truant officer (because believe it or not they still exist) or social services came knocking on the door to find out why the hell my kids weren't in school.

So that's not going to work for me.

I've decided instead to take the City Slickers approach. Remember City Slickers? Billy Crystal plays a radio ad salesman deep in the funk of a mid life crisis. He and a couple of his city friends go on a cattle drive to bond and find the meaning of life. After learning some life lessons in the big air of the open west, Crystal returns with a renewed sense of purpose, determined not to chuck his life in the trash, but simply to do it better. To do his job better, to love his family better. To do everything better.

For me that means a few things. It means to suffer fools a little more gladly, at work and in every day life.  It means to have more patience at home with my wife and my girls. Although I know they know I love them, I will still hug them a little harder, and a little longer, and tell them more often. But it can't just be words, I will show them in my actions, in the things I do, and just as importantly, don't do. I will try to think less about myself, and more of others.

In short, I will try to be more like Steve.

If there is a heaven, Steve is there right now, unquestionably. He's discovered his purpose, why the Lord needed him so much, why God keeps taking all the good people from down here and sending them up there.

I know you're doing good up there Steve.  If I'm lucky enough to get there someday, you can show me the ropes.

Fake Fur = Real Murder

"Oh my God, what a fantastic jacket! Is that real baby seal?"

"No, it's fake, but it looks and feels just like the pelts of actual baby seals that were clubbed to death on an ice floe in the Arctic, doesn't it?"

"Mmmmm. It sure does. But it's fake so that's OK."

"Mmmmm, that's right."

No, that's wrong.

From the moment our first ancestor skinned an animal and fashioned a garment out of its pelt, or crawled under a hide for warmth, fur has been a trapping of wealth and a luxury item.

Half a million years ago, a successful hunter would be well fed, and have many furs. Potential mates would view that food and warmth as desirable. Better to date the guy with the big spear and the fur coats, right? And that clan would grow, and that tribe would be strong. Long before animals were trapped and their skins traded for money or goods, fur was a currency that would grow and shape society.

It's practical. Have you ever tried on a fur coat?  It's cozy and warm. Duh. That's why animals have fur.

A few hundred millennia ago, humans needed to wear fur. In this millennia there's plenty of other options to keep us warm and dry. So fur should simply disappear, right?  We certainly don't need it anymore. But over time, as mankind was developing practical and affordable alternatives to animal skins, furs were developing into a luxury item, available only to the wealthy few. After all, why wear a scratchy woolen coat when you could afford to bask in a buttery mink?

Now faux fur, masquerading as real fur, perpetuates that glamorous image. Real or not, as long as we perceive fur to be fashionable, stylish, and desirable, we'll still have fur garments.

A real fur coat is expensive and few can afford one.  But faux furs are entry level priced, starter coats for those who aspire to one day own the real thing.  Without fake fur continually breathing life into that cachet, the image would be busted and fur would go the way of the wooly mammoth.

That's what makes artificial fur even more murderous than the real thing.

Now, I got no beef with PETA (see what I did there) and their anti-fur, anti-meat, anti-chicken, anti-fish, anti-feathers, anti-fun, anti-everything agenda. As far as I'm concerned, humans are supposed to eat meat and are entitled to do so because we can catch it. Similarly, if I'm flopping around in the ocean like a wounded sea lion a shark is perfectly entitled to eat me because a) I'm in his house and b) he can catch me. Same deal.

But even though I don't agree with the entire PETA manifesto I can totally get behind the messaging in this spot.

But there's a few gaping holes for me.  First of all, is the spot supposed to look real or animated? You'll notice the animation style change as the spot progresses... from obviously animated on the runway to more photoreal in the dressing room to even more photoreal in the... tannery I guess, to an actual photographic image at the end. It would be easy enough to create the whole thing with CG animals at the same level of finish as the fox. But these things are cartoonish... cute, almost. I don't get the feeling that these whimsical creatures are going to go in the back room after the show and peel the skin off that little girl in the cage. And what's up with that blue thing with the Dondi eyes? Is that a seal? Isn't it wearing the same outfit Melissa McCarthy wore to the Oscars Sunday night?  

You really should watch this thing in HD; it's much more gruesome, especially the freshly skinned human corpse in the back room. But if the horror for animals like this is all too real, why present them as cutesy animations up front? Do they think that if the animals look real we'll be afraid they'll rise up and skin us? And then we won't feel sorry for them anymore? Is PETA afraid we'll revolt, Planet of the Apes style?

"TAKE YOUR STINKING PAWS OFF ME YOU DAMN DIRTY FOX!!!"

Also, until the thing with the arm-skirt walks down the runway, you can't even tell what they're wearing. I get that it's part of the misdirect, but on subsequent viewings you should be able to look at each outfit and go ahhh... oooooh. Maybe you catch a glimpse on the ear one, but that's it. Everything else just looks like origami to me.

I can't say I'm crazy about the credit roll at the end either. It's not a movie, so when the credits are fully 1/3 as long as the content itself that's a little off-putting, don't you think?

All that said though, PETA has always been pretty good about making their point and this spot is no exception.

Rapey is as rapey does...

I was speaking to a Exec Producer friend of mine a couple of days ago. When we were done talking business, he asked me if I'd seen the Super Bowl, specifically if I'd seen the Audi Prom ad.

I told him yes, and that I thought it was one of the better ads. He agreed. But then he went on to tell me that he'd told a few people how much he liked the ad, and they'd called him a misogynist, and a woman hater, and how could he like an ad that promotes sexual abuse?

I said "huh?"

In case you haven't seen the ad, here it is:

I don't see anything particularly misogynistic about this ad. But apparently a columnist at the Philly Post did, labeling it "rapey."

Now I'm pretty sure "rapey" isn't even a word because when I tried to play it in Words With Friends I got a message that said "Sorry, rapey is not an acceptable word."

But let's pretend rapey is a word. What about this ad makes it rapey? Well, the columnist, Joel Mathis, was kind enough to include a "rapey" checklist. Here it is:

• The young woman who receives the kiss chose to be at prom with someone else.

• Our “hero” forcibly turns her around and jams his mouth to hers almost before she can identify him, and certainly without any permission being sought or given. What’s more, this is a demonstration of his new, Audi-fueled power.

• He leaves prom without her—suggesting that she still chooses to be at prom with somebody else.

I don't know that I'd call this rapey. I would call it a male fantasy, though. Yes, men actually daydream and fantasize. And although most of these daydreams culminate with a box of Kleenex and a bottle of lotion, some don't.  And I'm certain that kissing the prettiest girl in school who would never go out with you because she was dating the football hero is a pretty common daydream.  

Audi's got it right here. Bravery is what defines us. It's not the only thing, but it's one of them. For the next month in school, this kid is going to be a superhero and a stud.

But back to the rapey bit. That really got me thinking. How much pop culture is actually sexual battery in disguise? Based on Mathis' checklist, I've defined a rating scale for some of our most famous (now infamous) pop culture and entertainment moments. Here's the scale:

• MR:  Mildly rapey. Contains elements that could lead to an uncomfortable situation
• VR:  Very rapey. This is definitely going in a bad direction.
• ER:  Extremely rapey. This cannot end well.

So here we go:

From Here to Eternity:  Burt Lancaster is holding Deborah Kerr against her will on the beach, but she manages to escape his brutish grasp and run away. Winded from the lengthy chase, she collapses on a blanket. Lancaster, menacing and dripping, drops to his knees and (uugh) kisses her. Disgusting. She says she "never knew it could be like this." But she doesn't say she likes it. 

Rating "VR": He's a big guy. No way she can escape him twice.

Ross and Rachel's First Kiss:  They've just had a huge argument, she throws him out of the coffee shop and locks the door behind him. He slinks back and throws her the Schwimmer puppy dog pout.  She takes pity and unlocks the door, only for him to force it open and force himself on her. Pig.

Rating "VR":  This scene takes place halfway through season 2.  If she wanted to kiss him, she would have done it before now.

Lady and the Tramp:  Lady and the deviant is more like it. This guy can't even be bothered to go inside the restaurant, he takes her to dinner in the alley. Then he's all over her right at the table, like an animal.  He'll be mounting that bitch behind the dumpster in no time. Thank god they pan up to the clotheslines so we don't have to witness that humiliation.

Rating "ER":  Poor girl.  When she gazes at the night sky with those stars in her eyes, I can't help but think that she's wondering what her life might have been if she never got mixed up with this cheap bastard.

The Quiet Man:  It's a stormy night in Innisfree and John Wayne finds the impossibly beautiful Maureen O'Hara in his ramshackle cottage. Forget that he's the mysterious new stranger in town, forget that they've been throwing eyes at each other for a couple of weeks now, goddammit, he's going to have his way with her and he's going to have it now.  But this is classic Hollywood deception.  If you watch the clip all the way through, she kisses him at the end.  I'm confused.  Who's rapey now?

Rating "MR":  The kisses cancel each other out.  This is just two people in a hut on a rainy night.

2003 Academy Awards:  Yo Adrien. This could not be more rapey.  To wit:

• Halle Berry did not attend the Oscars with Adrien Brody
• He forcibly kisses her in a demonstration of his new, Oscar fueled power and,
• He leaves the awards without her.

Rating "ER":  Hey, I'm just going by the checklist, bro.

 

Snow White and the 7 Dwarfs:  Can you say Roofies, anyone? The girl is in a fucking coma for Chrissakes.

Rating "ER":  She doesn't even know who this guy is!

Gone With the Wind:  OK, I would never use the term "she was asking for it," but have you seen Gone With the Wind? 

Rating "NRAA" (Not Rapey At All): She's asking for it. For all 238 minutes, she's asking for it.

So that's a look at some entertainment moments you might have thought were innocent or heartwarming or romantic. Thanks, Joel Mathis for opening our eyes to what's really been going on all this time.

By the way, I just recently wrapped up a commercial with the same directing team that did the Audi spot. I can assure you, they are the least rapiest guys I've ever met.