Crikey
by Scott Hardie on December 16, 2009
I saw a trailer for a new Free Willy movie coming out soon, starring Bindi Irwin. They're going to cash in on that kid for as long as they can, before she breaks down and can't be Miss Junior Croc Hunter and more. Maybe working in the same career that killed her dad is good for her psyche; who am I to be skeptical?
This got me thinking about the hypocritical Free Willy movies themselves. They're about whales trapped in lagoons, and get turned into local attractions by greedy entrepreneurs, until brave youngsters do the right thing and free them back into the wild. But the movies themselves trap and exploit these whales for profit, making any kid viewer an accomplice to animal abuse while pretending to abhor it. The makers of the original film went to some lengths to get the whale Keiko released into the wild -- but only after a letter-writing campaign for years by the fans.
Who will write a letter for Bindi?
One Reply to Crikey
Logical Operator
The creator of Funeratic, Scott Hardie, blogs about running this site, losing weight, and other passions including his wife Kelly, his friends, movies, gaming, and Florida. Read more »
I Have Boring Dreams
Real men don't play tennis, and they don't play chess. They play tennis on a giant virtual chessboard where every step of their feet and bounce of the ball instructs the computer where to move the next piece. And they call it chennis. Go »Pandora
[This post wound up being very long-winded and self-absorbed, but that's what blogs are for, I guess.] For years, I've gotten increasingly picky about how I listen to music. Sometimes I just want to listen to everything I have on shuffle, but sometimes I want to get more specific like only music from one genre on shuffle or all songs by one artist in chronological order, and sometimes I want to get really specific, like songs about dreams or artists from Michigan or recordings featuring violins. Go »Neighborhood Botch
I've heard that riding in the front seat of an Uber signals that you want to chat with the driver, and riding in the back seat means that you prefer silence. I always sit in the back. But when I went to catch a ride from my house the other night, there was stuff in the van's back seat, so the front was the only option. Go »My Hot Thanksgiving
It may have been a cold Thanksgiving up north, but it wasn't in my mother's apartment yesterday, where the air conditioning was broken and it was 80°. And that was before we turned the oven on for an hour to heat the food. We've ordered pre-made meals before from various businesses like Boston Market and Publix, but this year the only source we could find was Zoës Kitchen, a Middle Eastern chain restaurant. Go »Blood Lines
A few weeks ago, I dropped a glass bottle of salad dressing on the kitchen floor, making the house smell like vinaigrette for a day. Today, I stepped on the last errant bit of glass hiding in a crack of tile by the corner. Better my foot than the cat's paw, I guess; I don't lick between my toes. Go »
Jackie Mason | December 19, 2009
[hidden by author request]