It Follows (2014) Movie Review wherein I was bored for a while then while getting milk I was like, brrrr, that would be creepy

The idea is simple: you have sex and a thing chases you until it gets you and you die. Maybe. Nothing's really sure in what people have been calling the best horror movie until Get Out got out.

    On the surface, I'm down. Good premise. Nice looking kids doing their all to thwart a being hell bent on killing… one of them. And that's it. Don't fuck Jay and you're safe.

    That's the issue, right? As far as we know. The director/writer came out recently and said there's more to it. The rules we learn are formed by the characters in the movie, so the It might have more to It.

    That's the basis for good horror. A nameless shapeshifting thing is coming to fuck-murder you for no apparent reason other than it seems to dislike fornication. Or really like it. The unknown is the cornerstone of great horror.

    Unfortunately, this mumbly movie kinda just makes its way along. Everyone is realistic and with this monster, that's kinda dull.

At least it wasn't cute and named The Strange or anything like that.

Casablanca (1942) Movie Review in which I mean, what the hell, go see it

I don't want to be the one to tell you, but if you haven't seen Casablanca you are a broken, unfulfilled person. The simple love story of Rick and Elsa with the backdrop of WW2 should be on everyone's "to watch" list.

    Humphrey Bogart stars as Rick, a man without a country in the land of Casablanca where life is cheap and getting out is expensive. In comes a couple of problems, some illegally obtained letters of transit and Ingrid Bergman, the person who broke Ricky's heart and now needs to get out. Oh, and she's got a man with her. Add in some Nazis and some unscrupulous folks and this soup is done.

    Still, what else can you say has been around for damn near a century and still works? And with film, that's doubly hard. Effects get dated, themes get lost, overall ideas are faded by the memory of time.

    Casablanca has not faded because the timeless ideas of love and loss and good and evil and even the vast shades of gray still hold up. The music and the acting and the sets are just so damn good. And the lines…

    I'm rambling, but I will leave you with the one moment I still dislike: the Tango Delle Rose part. I just don't like it and after nearly 20 years of watching this movie it is nails on chalkboard.

Lego Ninjago Movie (2017) Movie Review and the dreams I had while I slept through it

Five minutes into the Lego Ninjago Movie I fell into an deep and infintiely more exciting dream. In the dream I myself was a ninja, but I worked at a library. A library ninja, if you will. I was going about my normal library tasks but dressed as a ninja.

    I woke up to see a cast of plastic, Toy Story (1995) inspired creatures jumping and yelling and doing fuck all if I could tell. Someone once said these Lego movies were a mash up of Airplane! (1980) and Avengers (2012). Fuck that person right in the ear with a plastic interlocking brick.

    If you like the Lego games, good. Great for you. Same about the movies. In my opinion, the first Lego Movie (2014) was a delighful suprise. Lego Batman (2017 holy shit that came out this year? Thanks Trump for extending my life with an unending sense of dread) was crap. Shiny crap, but just too much. This movie extends on that crap by taking out the Batman and leaving all the stuff I hated.

    I don't know shit about Ninjago and after sitting through this movie, I care even less. I fell asleep three more times, continuing my ninja librarian dream. I helped a patron photocopy, found the paper in the book drop, and craeated a library card, all while wearing a ninja mask. And I was super bummed every time I woke up.

An old friend returns (Grog the Destroyer, Children's Librarian Part 3)

Last time on Grog the Destroyer, Children's Librarian, Grog found an old friend in the library while searching for a way back to his home land.

Grog gripped the shoulders of his old friend so hard his old friend's old bones cracked a little. Ben, also known as Lecher the Thief from the land of Y'eabud, stared at his old friend and teared up a little.

    "I never gave up hope you would find me, Grog," Old Ben said.

    "Where have you been, Lecher?" Grog said.

    "Call me Ben. I have been here so long its the only name I know. And while it's good to hear it from friendly lips, it's kinda a creepy word here, so let's just be cool. A bad kind of creepy. Also, don't steal. They throw you in a box and when they can't identify you… They have a system and it is easy to get lost," Ben said.

    "When was it I last saw you? The Palace of Virginal Glory? When you sere stealing of Jem of Servant Blood?" Grog said.

    Ben said, "Our last adventure was to the Tower of Sacred Wishes. I left you with that elephant man…"

    "Yes! He said he could gran t me wishes but he only wanted to suck my cock."

    "When I left you there I found a cave near the tower. Inside I found a glowing pool of green water. Thinking something inside might be shining and making the pool glow, I leaned too far over and fell in."

    "And you found yourself here?"

    "No, no. I went back to the tower and the Thorn and her minions were there. You saw, at least I remember you there, leaning out of the window yelling 'this elephant man wants to suck my cock.' I wasn't sure you saw me, but you saw the Thorn."

    "She attacked the Tower. The elephant pervert was killed by her archers. Then she began throwing out the portals before escaping to Arathorn where I followed her. I did not know you were there."

    "I awoke, here, outside the library fifty-two years ago."

    "Fifty-two years? What have you been doing?"

    Ben shrugged. "For a while I stole things. Got locked up. Little box. It is at the same time more simple and more difficult in this world. The people are trusting and gentle, yet their weapons are complex and horrific. Hard. They call their magic technology and base it on principles of the world rather than of the gods."

    "That means little to me. I must leave this world. It smells of flowers," Grog said.

    "Yes, I imagine. But there is no magic. None. I have looked all over, worked for many governments and people claiming to be shamans and witches. Their priests, they do not even sleep with women. This world is inescapable, Grog."

    "What does this book say?" Grog said. He pointed to the illustrations and the text.

    Ben shook his head. "It's all the things i told Prim to write down about our world. I was hoping someone would see it and know."

    Grog sighed and pushed the book away.

    "There is more. They-" Ben stopped as the doors to the stairs opened.

    Naomi and Chris walked through the doors and right to the two men.

    "We need you to give up your sword, Grog," Chris said. His voice shook but he looked Grog in the eye.

    "No," Grog said.

    "We have children in the building," Naomi said.

    "Then they should not attack me," Grog said.

    "Why would they attack you?" Naomi said.

    Grog sighed and rolled his eyes at Ben. "Children often attempt to attack me. It is because I am the strongest and they test themselves. No reason to worry. I will not shed blood in this house of worship. Unless they provoke me."

    Naomi stood staring. She said, "I don't believe half of what I just heard."

    "I will teach the children pain if they attack," Grog said.

    "Give us the sword or leave," Naomi said.

    Ben stepped forward, putting his old body between the librarians and the barbarian. He said, "I can vouch for Grog. He's an honorable man, in his own way. He will not harm your weak children. Please let him stay."

    Chris said, "Sorry, Ben. We called the lawyer. He said its a liability. If it was fake, maybe with foam or whatever, but that thing's sharp as hell."

    "It's that Rosa complaining," Ben said.

    "Sorry," Chris said. He did not seem sorry. The library director seemed as if he wished to be far off in a small cabin reading about book that had a man like Grog in it rather than facing off. He had drawn strength from the earlier confrontation but reality had ensued. If the big man started waving around the sword, Chris would die.

    The four stood in silence. Grog would not yield. Ben waited to back his friend's play. Chris felt like going to the bathroom. Naomi pulled out her phone and just in case dialed nine and one and then waited.

    From downstairs, even through the stairway doors, a child screamed. Naomi dialed the final "one" and called the police.

    "It was not me," Grog said and began to move.

Thank you for reading and searching with Grog. Come back next week for some action packed action. Might change this to Grog the Children's Barbarian... I dunno. Oh, and if you wanna draw Grog, I'm tottally down.

Last Flag Flying (2017) Movie Review that has Steve Carell at his most vulnerable.

Steve Carell sitting in a metal folding chair, holding a folded American flag will haunt me for a good long while. The scene around it has Bryan Cranston yelling and Laurence Fishburne giving us his cool stare, but Carell in that chair…

    Carell plays a man who has just learned his son has died in service so he goes and gets his two old army buddies to bring his boy home. Essentially a road picture, Last Flag Flying is an examination on the nature of brotherhood in service and war in general. Where it lands is often on the side of the people, a good side if there is one where most sides end up with dead children.

    I had no idea what I was going to see. I saw the actors and the flag on the poster and thought, "well, I've got two hours even if this does end up being some commercial for the military." Two hours later… Well, Steve Carell in that chair.

Coco (2017) Movie Review: Fun flick with lots of murder. And where's Hitler?

Let's not talk about the Frozen short, shall we? Better left unsaid. Years from now, people will tell the story of the short that came before Pixar's latest film with an unbelieving tone. Can you believe someone was stupid enough to pair a twenty minute Josh Gad holiday monstrosity in front of an actual story with weight and meaning, not just as a story but for an underrepresented minority?

    Coco is the story of Miguel, a boy whose family won't let him play music, the thing he's born to do. Lucky for him, his story coincides with the Day of the Dead, the one day when the dead and the living intermingle. Miguel and his family learn important lessons about togetherness, history, love, and murder.

    Oh, did they not tell you Coco's base story included some murder? Like, hardcore stuff man. In fact, without spoiling too much, you could compare the story to that of another Pixar movie, Up…

    Okay, spoilers. Sorry. Whatever, I got to work some shit out. Go see the movie and come back.

    So the hero of this story goes to a magical land, finds his hero, realizes his hero is a murderer, and through the help of newly acquired friends defeats the bad guy… Yeah, kinda like Up. I mean, except with less guns and more poison. How did De La Cruz have that poison at the ready to kill Hector, anyway? He was planning on doing that all along, right?

    And the dog turning into a helper animal, I've seen that before too, huh? And not just the caterpillar in Bug's Life getting those shitty wings.

    Oh, and fuck that grandma for busting the guitar. I know this is a heightened reality and all, but what the hell? That's abusive and wrong. Hit the kid with a shoe or whatever, but don't go John Belushi on his past time just because you have issues. And not even you, your grandma had issues.

    And when was this movie set? It seemed like present day, but the kid uses VHS and nobody has a cell phone. I mean, that's cool, it didn't impact the plot, maybe it's the 90s or something or Mexico is a technological wasteland. Just weird.

    And what happens to all your stuff when you finally fade away as a dead person? Seems like that guy, the one with the cans and whatever, his crap was up for grabs. If there's a nuclear war, do all the dead people vanish en masse?

    And where was Hitler and Charles Manson? The really bad guys people remember? The movie didn't seem to divide things into Heavens and Hells, so there's some pretty bad dudes who are still remembered running around, right? I bet some asshole out there is putting their pictures on shrines, so you know they get to run around. And before you say stuff, Ernesto was a straight up murderer rather people knew it or not, so the afterlife does not have a catch-all judgement system.

    That's it. I can't think of anything else.

Credit for Christmas

Pam sat at her circulation desk going over her email on the staff computer. Someone wanted her to babysit. Another person wanted her to "like" something online. Several companies were looking for her to join their ranks as a member of an elite credit order.

    "This one wants me to join up and I get bonus miles," she said.

    Carl, her fellow library assistant, grunted. He had before him a brick-building display project for the children's department, the shape of which was very brickish.

    "Miles of what?" Pam asked.

    "Probably flights," Carl said. He stuck one brick on another brick and the bricks became more than what they were before.

    "I can't afford any flights," Pam said.

    "Can you afford the debt?"

    "I gotta buy Christmas presents."

    Carl picked up another brick, this one red and longer than the other two. "Tell everyone you got them your own piece of mind."

    "Or I could bake things," Pam said.

    "Everyone did ignore your chocolate chip cookies enthusiastically."

    "Oh! This one says no interest until next year! Do you think they mean 2018 or 2019? Cause if they're not interested, I am."

Grog searches the library (Grog the Destroyer, Children's Librarian Part 2)

For the first part of this story, here ya go. But really, a barbarian guy invaded a city and a witch sent him into our world. 

Grog the Destroyer kicked in the doors to the library. He scanned the interior of the building. A desk with a woman behind it. The sound of children in the distance. Books all around.

    To his right were older men and women in comfortable looking chairs reading large papers. Elders, Grog thought. He approached a small man wearing a black and gold round hat with a symbol of the Flower of the Saints. The man sunk into a red chair as Grog approached.

    "Elder scholar, I am in need. I seem to have been sent here by a witch of Arathorn and must get back to destroy her. Can you help me?" Grog said.

    The man said, "Ain't you a thing to see. Sorry, sonny. I ain't even gonna try. Talk to Brenda."

   The old man pointed to the desk with woman behind it. She wore a smile.

    "Can we help you, sir?" she said.

    Grog stomped over to the desk and said, "Where is the witch of Arathorn?"

    The woman behind the desk said, "I'm sorry, but you can't use that language in here."

    Grog pounded a large fist on the circulation desk. "I don't have time for your nonsense. Tell me where the half naked witch is. Does she reside in this land?"

    The woman said, "Yeah, I have no idea what you're talking about. Maybe she's in the phone books?"

    Grog nodded. "She would be written about. Witches are notorious for recording their spells and actions and wizards record the actions of all known witches for breeding purposes. Where is this phone book?"

    The woman smiled and pointed to the stairs. "Second floor. Or you could use the elevator."

    Grog climbed the stairs, taking them two at a time. The second floor had many signs telling patrons where things were located. Computer lab on the left and reference desk to the right. Nonfiction books stretched into the distance on over a dozen eight-foot shelves. Grog ignored the signs and grabbed the first person he saw.

    The man's cane fell to the ground as Grog shook his arm. His milky eyes behind giant black glasses swirled in their sockets. A slight smile formed on his lips.

    The blind man said, "Thank you, sir, but I don't need help getting about."

    Grog let the man loose. "I crave only your attention. Where are the Books of Phone?"

    "Can I help you?" a voice said.

    A young woman with flaming red hair sat behind a desk. Her expression said I'm worried about the man in the loin cloth.

    Grog left the blind man who left the scene. He walked over to the reference desk where Felecia sat. Felicia took in the man and cursed Brenda, knowing the circulation librarian had sent this crazy man up to her. On the other hand, the tall, dark man was made of muscle and may just be a cosplayer or something playing an elaborate joke.

    "I seek knowledge about the Witch of Arathorn. The woman downstairs sent me after the Book of Phones," Grog said.

    Felecia cursed Brenda and nodded, "We have phone books up here. Is the… Is what you're looking for a place? Like a shop or something? I've never heard of it."

    "She is the most vile creature. I did not expect her when she attacked. Red hair, not like yours which is a fetching shade of flame but a smoldering red, a dark ember of being that matches the robes she wears about her person, open to expose her breasts and crotch, which is also the same shade of red. I came upon her in the city of… I did not get the name of the city, but I was tired," Grog said.

    "Wow," Felicia said. She putting her hands together slow, clapping. "I've hear of commitment to a bit but that's an amazing speech. Tone it down, though. Kids are around here."

    Grog leaned over and slapped the desk, "I cannot tone anything, I am busy. Show me the Books of Phone."

    Felecia said, "Woah, okay. Back up."

    Grog flexed and his eyes raged for a moment, then he found himself. He told himself these were innocents around him, yet his sense of danger was all over. Then an idea occurred to him. He turned without thanks and left Felicia to wonder what was happening.

    Back on the first floor, he listened and heard the sounds he knew he should have followed from the beginning. Chanting, laughter, stories being shared. Innocent voices raising up tales.

     Right now the voices were singing something about wheels on a bus going round and round.

    The large man approached the story time circle and sat with the children. Naomi stopped singing as she watched this happen, her grip on the book slipping. Her first thought was, holy hell, that's a real sword on his back.

    The children continued to sing as the wheels on the bus went round and round. Then more and more of them noticed Grog. Some stopped singing and stared. Others smiled and giggled at the large man sitting with them like a child.

    Naomi said, "Um, sir, can we help you?"

    "Continue," Grog said.

    "Do you have a child here, sir?" Naomi said.

    "While I have bedded many women, none have told me of children I care to accept as my own," Grog said.

    The children started laughing and Naomi's face went white then red as the summer reading shirt she wore. The children's librarian had many issues with strange men over the years in her department, but this took the cake. She swallowed and tried to think of something to say when Rosa spoke up.

    "You can't be here," Rosa said.

    Naomi sighed. This would be the day that Rosa worked. The library assistant often caused problems with patrons. Just last week a father and normal patron had commented on the beautiful ruby earrings Rosa wore daily and the whole affair had to be documented.

    "I seek knowledge of the Thorn of Arathorn. Please, continue with your musics of the wheels on this bus creature. If need be, I shall share stories and songs of my own for stories of your travels, teacher," Grog said.

    The children's librarian digested that information and stood. "I'll be right back," she said.

    Rosa said, "I'm not leaving him with the children."

    "I'm going to call Chris," Naomi said.

    "Are you a barbarian?" one little boy asked. He was small and dark haired and reminded Grog of himself at the age had he not been a slave in the Pits of Isaacson and made strong and scarred with fighting and rock breaking. Looking at the boy closer, Grog saw scars, though.

    "I am, of a sort. I am Grog the Destroyer. That is what they call me, although I dislike the name. Maimer, killer, attacker, conqueror from time to time, but destroying is for madmen. I am not mad, little one. I leave things intact or able to rebuild. Remember that. Always leave them able to tell your story and able to rebuild. Then they are stronger when you attack again," Grog said.

    "My name's Teddy," the little boy said.

    "Yes, I'm sure," Grog said.

    "I'm Billy and I"m not supposed to talk to you," A little boy in a red shirt said.

    "Billy," Rosa said.

    The boy cut his eyes to the woman and lost some fire in his eyes. Then he looked up again and Grog saw a smile. Grog smiled back.

    "You need to leave," Rosa said.

    "Why? I seek answers," Grog said.

    Naomi came back to the story circle. She said, "Sir, can I talk to you over here?"

    Grog lifted himself up with his powerful legs. Naomi found herself looking at the strap of his sword on his powerful chest. She thrust her hand forward. In it was a red summer reading shirt, triple extra large.

    "Put this on while in the library, please," Naomi said.

    "I do not wear red. It is the color of the Thorn of Arathorn. Are you members of the Cult of Arathorn, here?" Grog said.

    "I don't know what that is. Put this on or leave," Naomi said.

    "I do not wear red," Grog said.

    "Then leave. It's the same shirt I'm wearing."

    "With the colorful duck in pants reading to children?"

    "Yes."

    "Fine. As long as the garment is not pure red," Grog said.

    Grog unbuckled the sword from his back and leaned it against a table. He had some difficulty pulling the shirt over his head, but in a moment wore the same summer reading shirt.

    "It's tight," Grog said, buckling the sword back on.

    "It sure is," said Brenda.

    Naomi waved a hand at the circulation librarian. "What?" she said.

    "Chris wants to know if he should call the cops," Brenda said.

    "No, just tell him to come down here," Naomi said.

    Moments passed and the librarians and the barbarian waited.

    An older man in blue slacks and a yellow vest came down the stairs and headed towards the children's department. Chris Davies stopped short when he saw the large man towering over Naomi, Brenda, and Rosa. He almost ran. Peed his pants and ran. It was akin to seeing a tiger or bear running around the library. Chris's first thoughs was to call the cops, right away. Tell someone else to deal with this animal, as if the man in the tight red shirt was a stray dog or snake.

    Except they saw him. Brenda smiled and got herself away. Naomi's face was a mix of amusement and exasperation. Whatever the half naked man had done was both interesting and distressing to the children's librarian. Or the distressing part could be Rosa, a constant thorn in Naomi's side as the bossy library assistant often equated library practices to her own familial concerns.

    "Chris, this gentleman is Grog. He's sitting in story time," Naomi said.

    "I am no gentle man," Grog said.

    Rosa crossed in front of Naomi and Grog. "Mr. Davies, this man came into the story circle and sent away the children. He has no child of his own and I want him thrown out of the building," she said.

    "No man throws me," Grog said and reached for his sword.

    Chris held up a hand. "Why don't we talk first?"

    With a graceful motion, Grog side-stepped around Rosa and drew Metal Death, holding the sword against the library director's throat. Grog growled, "I am no gentle man. I came to seek information about the Thorn of Arathorn. This land is strange but the law of the sword are baked into all lands."

    "I'm gonna call the cops," Rosa said.

    "No," Chris said. At times in a man's life, he finds resilience within himself. Tests arise and the man can meet them or be defeated. Grog knew this well and instinctively. The eyes of the barbarian narrowed and met the eyes of Chris. Chris, in his part, felt calem for the first time in years. Political bullshit from the library , loud patrons threatening to go to the newspaper, old men saying the paid his salary with all them taxes. All abstract fears that lived in the dark. Now, here, for the first time in decades, Chris was confronted with an immediate danger and his heart slowed and his eyes unfocused and his mind centered. If the library's problems lived in the dark of abstraction, the sword was a bright light that cut through the bullshit.

    Naomi and Rosa saw the change in the library director. The stuttering and shaking presenter at library conferences straightened. A good man, intelligent and able to somehow always find funding, a meek and mild man until this moment.

    Gros saw and equal and grinned. He lowered the sword.

    If need be, Grog would kill the man. But the resolve he swa in Chris's eye made him sure the man would be an ally. He had seen the look before in others. Bowman the Archer. Lecher the Thief of Ten Rings. The Pyromancer Tim. Now this library man Chris. He put away Metal Death.

    Chris said, "Rosa, don't call the cops. Naomi, you and Rosa finish up story time. I'll take this warrior up to reference and will see what we can find."

    Naomi said okay. She went with this turn of events because it got the children out of danger and sent the large half-naked man away. Rosa's cheeks flushed. Rosa in her capacity of a library assistant, was used to being heard and in front of her son she did not like to be ignored. If the man was not out of the building in a few minutes, she would take action. What form that action would take, she had not decided.

    "You remind me of an old friend," Grog said on the way up to reference.

    Chris said, "In what way?"

    "Lecher was small and colorful man as well. HIs clothes and his hair were bright, like your yellow and blue. No one could deal like Lecher, should he begin to bargain," Grog said.

    "Where is he now?" Chris said.

    "Dead. In that way, you two are different."

    "I'm sorry to hear that."

    "He died fighting the sorcerer Thom, the teacher of the Thorn of Arathorn."

    "That sounds… interesting." Chris held the door as Grog continued.

    "Indeed," Grog said.

    IN the reference area, two men Grog had dismissed earlier stood watching. One held himself tall and straight, a white cane gripped in an old and spotted hand with a gray overcoat draped over his shoulders. The other stood back, holding himself away from the world as if guarding from attack. He wore a faded yellow scarf that hung limp and for a moment Grog felt a twinge in his memory, yet could not place anyone as old as this man.

    "Dave, Ben, what can I do for you?" Chris said.

    "We heard the excitement," Blind Dave said.

    "I was looking for the paper," Ben said, his hands pulling at his scarf.

    "Nothing much," said Chris. "Just some excitement at story time. I'm going to help my friend grog here with some research, but maybe, Ben they've got the paper with the mail downstairs. I'll call in a minute."

    The blind man grumbled something and continued past the stairway doors to the elevator. Old Ben met Grog's eyes as if looking for something. Grog wondered about the old man but Chirls started walking away, so he followed.

    "Now, who was this Thorn of… Arabia?" Chris said. He circled a desk and sat down in front of a computer.

    "Arathorn," Grog said, watching the monitor glow blue then have text appear. He had seen something like this when battling the Sorcerer Longman, tablets that told two truths for every lie.

    Chris typed but shook his head. "Nothing on Arathorn. Could be obscure or ancient?"

    Grog said, "No. I was just there. The witch opened a way and sent me here."

    "Witch? Well, maybe in mythology or folklore," Chris said. He stood and went to the 099 and 390 sections. When they were done, Grog held a large stack of books. The two men sat at a table and began to scan the books, Chris running his finger along the words and Grog the pictures. Chris left the large man looking and went to see if Ben had found the paper. Chris found Naomi at the desk.

    "Is he still here?" she said.

    "Yeah. I got him looking at books. You know, I'm not sure he can read," Chris said.

    "What are you going to do?"

    "He hasn't done anything wrong."

    Naomi put her hands on her hips. "At least take the sword."

    "Yeah, well, the shirt you gave him matches it nicely," Chris said.

    "You should call Andy."

    From the back of the library came a shout, a booming whoop like that of a bear with a salmon in its mouth that did not wish to die that day. Naomi and Chris set off running.

    They found Grog pointing at a map in a book entitled "My Journey into the Bad Bad Lands." The map showed a desert world of Y'eabud. Grog had a thick finger on a symbol, over which read the word "Arathorn."

    "I have found the witch's symbol. The Thorn. She raised it at the gates of Arathron after her soldiers took the city. This book of maps should tell me how to return," Grog said.

    Chris picked up the book. He'd grabbed it on a whim, a donated tome from a long ago board member. He opened to the title page to see the book plate: "A pack of lies hiding a great truth. - Prim Roswell, 1954."

    "Grog, I'm not sure this book is totally accurate," Chris said. An old hand held his wrist.

    Old Ben said, "Why don't you folks go do your library stuff, like finding today's paper. I can help our friend Grog here with this old book of stories. I knew Prim back in the day. Can tell him all about it."

    "If you're sure," Chris said. Naomi shrugged.

    "I can tell him all about it. Plus I can talk lower than you librarians. That'll keep Blind Dave from complaining so much," Old Ben said with a yellow smile.

    "Okay," Chris said.

    "Finding the paper," Old Ben said.

    Chris and Naomi walked away, each casting glances back. Old Ben waved them on. The men stood together, the old and the powerful.

    "Ben a while, Groggy," Old Ben said.

    Grog turned slow to the man. He saw the old man then, small, stooped , lines that were not there the last time he saw the face. Blue eyes, though, gone to gray but still dancing.

    "Lecher?" Grog said.

    "Been a hell of a while," Lecher said.

Stay tuned on Fridays for the continuing adventures of Grog the Destroyer and how he became the Banned Library's children's librarian. 

For all Grog Stories, go on this link and read from the bottom up.

Or you could wait until we collect them all and buy them from the bookstore.

Talking Dahmer at the Circ Desk

The cart was filled with books from the book drop. The library assistant wheeled it to the circulation desk and watched the stack teeter.

    The second library assistant, Carl, watched Pam and the books. He said, "I saw that movie, the one about Dahmer?"

    Pam pulled a few books from the middle of the stack as if playing a giant game of Jenga. "Yeah?"

    "Yeah. It had this scene in it where Jeffrey Dahmer starts making noise in the library, like acting out to be funny, and I wondered how many of our patrons are gonna become serial killers," Carl said.

    "I could name one or two," Pam said.

    "I'm serious," Carl said.

    Pam reached for more books from the pile, but they fell on her, crushing her under the weight. She gasped and the weight bore down and pushed the breath from her lungs. Carl watched as the life drifted from Pam's eyes. He waited, seeing the inner light fade to a distinct nothing. Then, per the library handbook, he began collecting the books lest they become haunted by Pam's eternal soul.

    "Anyway, it was a good movie," Carl said.

The library's Christmas shopping list

The library is counting down the days until Christmas and wants to let you know what you can give us. We've been all around town and have located dozens of items for our list. Here are a few.

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"Tits out Miss Piggy Bank" is the number one item on our list for collecting fines and overall just lightening up the children's desk.

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"Suck It Monkey" will be a delightful addition to our reference collection.

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By hiring "Drunken Italian Stereotype," we feel our Books and Dinner programs will have the best food available.

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Nuff said.

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The library needs a mentor and what better to lead us than a figure from our past?

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The library needs to show children with "The Boy Who Didn't Believe" that if you don't believe in things, a fat bearded man will kidnap you.

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Can't go wrong with a box of hammers.

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Zombie Santa wants us as much as we want him.

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Again, the children's desk is looking a little drab. Can't you help us lighten it up with the flintlock lamp?

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Don't think we didn't forget about the Circulation Department's voodoo doll collection.

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Nothing wrong with a sexual representation of Mr. And Mrs. Clause.

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Just cause.

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If you don't have a bucket of leering Santas on your wish list, whose dick are you trying to suck?

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We round out the list with our favorites: What if Santa was a Muppet...

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and what if Mrs. Clause needed some sex?

I failed the written

We all have bad days. Days you wake up on the side of the bed that’s not just wrong, but fuck all to hell done with this earth. Today was mine and it started at the DMV.

    Oh, yas mothafucka, we’re going to the DMV.

    I recently moved over 120 days ago which is longer than the 90 days the great state of Idaho requires you to hand in your licence, registration, and first born potato. As such, after I waited over an hour I was told I needed something a little more current than my lease agreement. Fine. My fault. It happens.

    A drive home, and I’m back. You know that feeling. It’s like coming back from the bathroom when you were in Kindergarten. “Hi, just back to see you all again. What are we doing and does it involve maccaroni?”

    There was no maccaroni at the DMV.

    In fact, the DMV had not shit. Little to no shit as in the thirty minutes it took for me to go out, search my car for something with my name, address, and date within 90 days, fail to find that something and drive home for a pay stub and come back, well, folks, the DMV’s computers in that time had chosen to go down.

    Two hours later, I am chosen. The computers are back from being down. The lady has a nice smile and is happy to help me as the first lady was. Except her camera is not working. In case you have noticed, creation of a photo identification requires the ability to take a photo. She restarts her computer. Nothing. Unplugs and plugs things. Nothing.

    Then the camera comes back on its own. Just to fuck with me.

    I take a decent picture. I should have known at this point things were not right.

    In Idaho, if you have never had a driver’s licence in this state, you are required to take a written test. If they feel you’re impaired, they may also make you drive around with someone telling you to “check your mirrors.” These tests cost, the written the princely sum of three dollars, plus three percent and some more if you pay by card.

    Fun fact: the night before I had left my debit card at a restaurant that serves all night breakfast and discovered this fact in front of the nice, smiling DMV lady. When you discover you have forgotten your mode of payment, three things happen right away. First, there’s a draining feeling. Like you’re a balloon that just shit the bed. Next, a frantic searching starts because it has to be there somewhere. Then you remember where you left the fucking thing and those all-night breakfast eggs were a little damn runny, you know?

    Relax. I had a credit card. I went into four dollar and some change debt for this driver’s licence to take the test. As I waited the three hours before, I had read the driver’s manual. The DMV gives out these manuals from a rack last used to hold Highlights magazines and old Sports Illustrated's at a dentist office. I was prepared by this test by that three hours of reading and twenty plus years of not dying while driving around the United States.

    I failed the written test.

    As I went along, I got cocky. I also skipped questions I didn’t know. I could miss six questions out of forty and pass. No problem as I marked red stop signs and said “of course the car on the left should yield to the car on the right when they meet at a four-way stop in the middle of a field surrounded by cattle and various cold weather fowl. It’s just the right thing to do.”

    The skipped questions, though, when they came back around I could not skip them again. There were eight of them. I got one right by guessing, something about how far you can see at night when the car in front of you might be a horse. With seven left, needing only one correct answer, I missed all seven. One by one.

    I went back up to the smiling lady who smiled like a lady and said, “Oh, you got so close there. Come back on Monday, okay?”

    I vowed to her right then, saying, “Madam, as the gods above and the gods below and the gods who make little baby’s laugh as my witness, I will come back on Monday. I will pay three dollars plus thirty percent plus some other thing I don’t know. I will take your test again and I will know the correct speed at which I am supposed to pass a yellow car on a two lane road in the snow after Labor Day. I will be a licensed driver in the state of Idaho and all shall know as the thunder will split the sky and the land will roll with the joy of all creation.”

    Then she handed me back my old license and said, “Thanks. See you then.”

Blade Runner 2049 (2017) Movie Review: Gorgeous, Loud, and Slooooowwww

I might have a sleeping problem. Put me in a dark room with a big screen and I go all Kevin Bacon in Stir of Echoes. Total hypnotism. You could probably even make me like the Blade Runner franchise.

    I get it. Don't tell me I don't get it. Far flung future with robot-lite slaves who want to be free. A noir-ish person who hunts them down and in the case of the narrative stumbles upon giant questions. Gorgeous visuals. Striking sound. Acting above reproach. Everything about Blade Runner and the sequel are amazing.

    I just don't give a shit. All that, for me, adds up to a nearly three hour nap. If Zimmer's score wasn't there to jolt me and the people two blocks away out of their seats with a giant "BUH-WAAAAAAA" every ten minutes or so, I might have just been in a park. There might have been less contact with sticky floors.

    The deep existential questions about being and not being, creation and life, those all got me back with Thoreau and any other navel gazer I happened to read in college. Just because they are wrapped up science fiction hopes and dreams doesn't make them more appealing to me.

    But hey, that's me. If you love a gorgeous movie well acted that asks all the big questions while taking its time, you'll love the hell out of Blade Runner.

Murder on the Orient Express (2017) Movie Review: Shit Goes Down on a Train, Y'all

Man, you ever loved something and had someone you loved involve themselves with that thing and then… Eh? Just falls short just a little? Not great as you hoped? Welcome to life, Sad Sally, you just became a little more adult.

    Agatha Christie's classic story of a murder on a train plays out pretty straight in the 2017 Kenneth Branagh adaptation. There's a train, period appropriate clothing, actors acting their assess off, all that stuff. Sure, they threw in some sex and violence because we're different today and that's fine. Nothing much changed there.

    Just a little problem… Poirot. Not Branagh's performance. Dude acts the shit out of everything. He was even great in Wild Wild West and that's a giant pile of poo. His Poirot, however, is off. Here, the character is played like TV's Monk with a dead wife and random order problems. In the books, he's more like TV's House with being an asshole who happens to be smart. It changes a lot of things and I just can't get over it.

    Still, though, this was a fun night out. The acting really is great. I mean, I really wanted to kill Johnny Depp and root for Daisy Ridley as a hero. That's never happened before. Neither of them.

Happy Death Day (2017) Movie Review: This Ain't Your Momma's Groundhog Day, Sonny

A world exists where you are dead. Someone or something killed you, just for shits and giggles. The world is a dark and dangerous place. Or happier. I don't know you.

    So what would happen if you could remember that world? What if when that thing or person killed you, you got to start over like in Groundhog Day, reliving the day again? That's how Tree (Rothe, and yeah, that's the character's name) finds herself on her birthday.

    Go see this movie. Not because it's the best movie of the year, but because I want more movies like this. If you haven't already, go see this movie and then go on Netflix and watch The Babysitter as a double feature because I want more fun horror movies out there.

    You know how murder movies normally have disposable, hateful characters that you want to die at the killer's hands as soon as possible? This movie has that. Then the shitty character dies… and dies again… and again… and then learns not to be shitty. It's really damn good for what it is, it knows what it is, and it let's things play out like they will.

    Will you guess the killer? Sure. Will you care? I dunno, you're you. You know if that kind of shit matters to you. I just enjoy well told, solid movies that have laughs and jumps.

Burn After Reading (2008) Movie Review: You don't know shit. Or the shit.

You find a CD full of secrets and are in need of a great deal of money. Let's say your daughter needs surgery. If you don't have a daughter, let's say you need surgery. If you would just let yourself die, well, then, fuck you I'm not talking to you, print this out and give it to someone who cares.

    What I'm saying, you find government secrets. What do you do? Turn them in? Try to get some money for them?

    That's the situation in this Coen Brothers blackest of black comedies. Linda (McDormand) and her dumbass friend Chad (Pitt) go after the money of Cox (Malkovich) not knowing he has no money. Also George Clooney is fucking everybody. I don't remember his characters name.

    This is the best version of a fiasco, summed up in the end by a character asking another what the hell was going on the whole time, something I'm sure the audience is meant to ask. The other character shrugs. Such is life.

    Should you watch this movie? I'm supposed to tell you this, but I don't know you. You might like straightforward, white hats and black hats fighting it out and ending in a kiss and a quip. But this ain't James Bond. This is Frank Bond, the lesser Bond film that might have one time written a song for a soundtrack but otherwise rambles on until its done.

I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House (2016) Movie Review: So Much Title, Space is Jelly

A quiet dark hallway and a score that lumbers along as a character and camera creep along waiting… The house sits and allows you to feel alone with Lily as she cares for the aging horror novelist. Then I fell asleep.

    That's not saying this movie is bad. I fall asleep in a lot of movies. It's winter and when the lights are low and I'm comfortable, I just slip away. It pisses off my ladyfriend.

    My sleep habits have nothing to do with the movie I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House, the longest title that I have to keep looking up. Just go to typing and I'm like, "What' the name of that house movie with the lady in it? The pretty one? Fuckin 'The Pretty Lady That Hangs Out in the Crib'? Or 'I Am the Person Living Around the Block With My Gran.' Whatever, Google."

    What can I say about this movie? That it's well shot, well acted, well edited, well lit, well written, well well aren't we fancy, well in the well. I can say all that and get away with it because it's true.

    So when I talk about the name, the biggest problem with the movie, I'm only saying that because when I tell people, I don't like saying "You'll love the hell out of this quiet thriller named 'This Lady Lives in a House and Sees Ghosts But Maybe Not." Fucking hard to remember, that.

For a Good Time Call (2012) Movie Review: Do You Like Phone Sex?

When I need money, I'm gonna totally start up with selling some sex. Except my Amazon erotica ain't selling. Maybe I should be a lady or get some talent. That's what Lauren and Katie learn in this love letter to phone sex.

    In this movie… You know what? I'll just quote imdb:

"Former college frenemies Lauren and Katie move into a fabulous Gramercy Park apartment, and in order to make ends meet, the unlikely pair start a phone sex line together."

    Let's break this down to see if you want to watch this movie:

    Do you use the non-word "frenemies?"

    Do you hate seeing privileged white girls live in elaborate apartments in New York City's super rich apartment?

    Do you believe that privileged white girls would have so much difficulty finding work they would have to get into phone sexery?

    Do you think two white girls who would both use the term "frenemy" an "unlikely pair?"

    And there's all the phone sex and use of Justin Long saying "cock." I mean, I think he said it. He's the token gay character so he should have.

    If you said "no" to any of these sentences, well, maybe go watch Thor Ragamuffin again. There's no nudity here.

1922 (2017) Movie Review: How I'd Get Away With Murder

How would you get away with murder? Would you talk your son into helping you kill your wife so she doesn't sell her land and leave you wanting in a world that is moving on? If so, wow, very specific of you. You're just like Thomas Jane in 1922.

    This atmospheric re-telling of both Poe's The Tell Tale Heart and Lovecraft's Rats in the Walls succeeds on every level. The characters start likeable and quickly become monsters as circumstances based on their oown actions snowball into hell. Jane's mumbling Wilfred conives his way into your heart as you lean closer just to hear what bullshit he's mumbling.

    That being said, I'm not gonna kill anyone no matter what this movie wants me to do. But if I did…

    If I had access to a corn field that wasn't ready to harvest any time soon, that's where I'd bury the body.

    If I had a son, I'd totally tell the dad of the girl he's seeing to keep an eye on my son and their daughter.

    If my son run oft with his prego baby-mama, kid's dead to me. Fuck that kid. Seriously, fuck that kid with a pineapple.

    If a rat bit me, I'd get that looked at. Right away. Cause farm rats gross, bro.

Falling for Peyton Place and Mark Twain

Fall is here! Shit fell off trees!

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This past week's book was At the Mountains of Madness by HP Lovecraft because it was short and on sale. Still, it took me too long to listen to and honestly, I barely listened to it. If you've ever read Lovecraft, you know the archaic language can be impenetrable and at 2X speed I listen to things... My mind wandered, Still, check it out.

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Still making it through Peyton Place and by god, this is an excellent book. Just trash and awesome at it, showing with blatant fury the small town bullshit with a punk rock attitude of "fuck all these people." 

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Lots of things this day made me super happy, from @libraryeliza realizing that the old man teacher in the Last Jedi trailer was Luke Skywalker, but the top has to be "How to Tell a Story" by Mark Twain. This short essay makes me super happy to read because our greatest American author still commands that title by playing with and enjoying the art of story deconstruction. Pauses and rambling, indeed.

Little Miss Sunshine (2006): Vacation Without Chevy Chase

What more can be said about road movies featuring families? Get a bunch of wacky characters together in a confined space with a vast land to give a variety of adventures and let them go. Too bad this was done to perfection thirty-four years ago and repeated to death so much that my heart is a cold, stony ground from which no love of the family travel movie will grow.

Little Miss Sunshine is the story of a family driving to a beauty pageant two states away. Dad (Kinnear) is having money troubles. Brother (Dano) is a silent wreck. Uncle (Carrel) just got out of the hospital for suicide. Grandpa (Arkin) is a foul mouth mess. Mom (Collette) is dealing with all these assholes. While on the way, they learn to be a family again.

On the surface, a great film with a lot of heart. The ending dance number is inspired, the path every character takes is earned, and damn that kid is cute as a button. But my heart is closed to the love and admiration they give each other. For they are not Griswolds.

My family took road trips every summer. My dad, mom, sister, and I would pile into the car and drive. We went to amusement parks, national forests, and one time a castle. My memories of my experiences tie with deep recognition the John Hughes classic tale of a family traveling. At the end of our journeys, surely, no lessons were learned other than the world continues. The family abides. Death is near.

The black specter follows us all. As one passes on, more follow. Each of us has a time and that time is unknown, be it on the road or within our hearts. Cold silence follows and the future will crumble like rain in the darkness.

A nice little movie about a family, Little Miss Sunshine passes the time in a delightful hour and a half. The enjoyable plot will not remind you that chaos is inevitable and each of us is falling toward the depth of horror. Hold each other close and muffle the screams with hugs.