I often wonder if Billy Mays is going through an Existential crisis. Maybe his loud sales pitch is a defense mechanism to conceal his own inner-ennui at promoting yet another product about which he has diffidence. I mean, seriously, how many products can one person sell? Apparently more than 61, as Wikipedia (that ever infallible source) lists 61 products, but notes that "[the] list is incomplete." 61 products and still not complete?! Jesus!

What happens when the cameras turn off? What happens when Billy Mays goes home? Does he have a wife? Or a husband? (I'm not here to make assumptions about Billy.) I'm merely assuming that he sits quietly in a dumpster-salvaged armchair, slouched over and dimly illuminated by a single fluorescent light bulb hung in a droopy-looking floor lamp.

Or maybe he goes out and, like some magical elfin creature, bestows his products upon unsuspecting laymen. Maybe he runs around with a bottle of Mighty Mend It and repairs other people's fashion emergencies. (By the way: my birthday is coming up and, if you're looking for a gift, may I recommend the "Emily" hat used in the commercial on Might Mend It's main page. Gotta get me some of that bling!)

Who are you, Billy Mays?

Apparently there are people out there who think that in order to get stem cells for research, we have to go find an adorable baby, cut its head off with a dull, rusty knife, drink its blood, and spit the stem cells into a test tube.

The Obama administration is batting about .500 with me right now. I'm still struggling to see any kind of plan to get us out of this economic mess and I'm still struggling with the fact that they're all still such blatant "politicians." However, one of the main reasons I voted for the guy is because of his stances on social issues, and I count stem cell research as one of those issues. We have at our fingertips, in the very near future, cures for all kinds of diseases, and by allowing money to be spent on research in those areas, Obama is brightening the future for a lot of people, and that is a great thing.

I notice that people who are opposed to stem cell research are also opposed to abortion, which makes me think that people who oppose both of those see a clump of cells that will eventually be a human as more valuable than an actual human life. This is also exemplified by abortion clinic bombings, one of the most ironic things I've ever heard of happening. Maybe instead of pro-life, they should adopt the more suitable moniker "pro-eventual-life," because from what I can tell they really don't give too much of a shit about life after it pops out of the womb. They want us to not even think about disturbing a blob of cells, but after the baby is born to a mom that is single and can't afford to raise the child, they sure as hell don't want to have to pay taxes so that that mother can feed the kid. "Baby's born: Mission Accomplished! Now fuck 'em."

Also, how is it that so many people fit so neatly into the labels we've adopted as "liberal" and "conservative," or "republican" and "democrat?" Why is that so many people will believe ALL of the following: small government, pro-war, anti-abortion, anti-gay marriage, anti-taxes, pro-death penalty? Or the exact opposite of all those positions. But it's so much harder to find someone who believes in half of those things. Doesn't it seem like there's very little in common between most of those ideas? Yet somehow, people are more and more falling into little compartments and believing EVERY tenet of their chosen label. I think that's weird. All because I love abortion more than anything else in the world doesn't mean I need to be anti-war, does it? I guess now that I'm thinking about it, I fit pretty much into my little compartment too. Oh well. I must not know what I'm talking about.

I'm not ashamed to admit that I made a mistake doing the laundry the other day. I forgot that I left a tissue in one of my pant's pockets and sent it through the wash like that. What can I say? It happens. Very rarely, but it happens. So, my bad, washer. My bad, dryer. But, at this point, my punishment for said folly borderlines an 8th Amendment violation. It was bad enough when I opened the dryer and found a bunch of (what I can only attempt to describe as) "strings" of tissue mixed in with the rest of the clothes. It was annoying, but due. What's completely unjust about this whole mishap is that the "strings" have continued to recur in various pieces of laundry. I find them tucked inside (yes, inside -- how they got there is beyond me) my shirts or sweatshirts. They're hidden between socks. They're inside shirts. I really can't stress this enough. Bottom line: don't fuck around with tissues. Make sure you check your pant pockets before doing the laundry, OR ELSE.

Let's play Good Idea/Bad Idea. Good idea: This year, I'm going to read at least one non-fiction science book every two months. For January/February, I read Jerry Coyne's Why Evolution is True. I really wish I were the type of person who could read something and retain all the facts and arguments in the book forever. Because Coyne does a kick ass job of showing (spoiler alert!) why evolution is true. If you'd like a taste of this guy's writing style, check out the New Republic article I read that pointed me in Coyne's direction.

So that's the good idea. Now time for the bad idea. I wanted to get a head-start on my March/April book, Carl Sagan's Cosmos, but, unfortunately, I started reading it while I was sick after coming back from New Orleans. I say "unfortunately" only because, when you are in a feverish state, it's not exactly easy to focus on and/or follow Sagan's esoteric writing. Here's an example from page 2: "From an intergalactic vantage point we would see, strewn like sea froth on the waves of space, innumerable faint, wispy tendrils of light." A nice image, to be sure. But when I was cooped up in bed with a box of tissues next to me and an upper-respiratory nightmare, it didn't exactly have the same impact.

Still, I'm determined to finish it by the end of April. Any suggestions for future reading?

If you'll allow me to make the most solipsistic post I've ever made. (Two things: One, that's an incomplete sentence, I know. And, two, I never really liked the word "solipsistic," but I've also never really had a chance to use it, so I went with it. Apologies to others who dislike the word.)

Here's some shocking news that may make you laugh: I coach a high school tennis team. No, seriously. I know I joke a lot, but, for real, I'm coaching a high school tennis team. Me, the guy who had zero high school school spirit and just a tiny little bit of college school spirit. Also, the guy who's never exactly been sports-oriented. But here I am, coaching tennis.

My team consists of 14 players. They're a nice bunch. They're also atypical athletes, for the most part, which is what makes my job enjoyable. But as far as the skill level... We're certainly not the strongest team in the world. It's okay, though, because we go out there and the guys seem to have fun.

Today we played our second series of matches. Tuesday was our first round, and we lost horribly. Nine matches, and we lost all of them. The closest match was 4-10. (Instead of playing normal six game sets, they play an extra-long set to ten games.) We lost to a school that was #2 in the district last year. But that leads us to today: a match against a school that hasn't won a match in three years. Three years. Not a single match won. This should be a blowout, right? WRONG, fool. You are wrong and a fool for even entertaining such an idea. (In the interest of full disclosure, I, too, am a fool.)

The nine match breakdown goes like this: six singles matches and three doubles matches. My top 6 players play singles, then they pair up and play doubles. That's how it normally works. Today was a little different. Today was cold. Today was windy. And today my #6 player wasn't using his normal racket because he broke a string a couple days ago. During the warm up for the matches, he wasn't playing very well. He didn't seem comfortable playing with someone else's racket. So I suggested that the #7 guy switch with #6 for singles, but that #6 still play in doubles. This decision occurred quite literally at the last minute. But we went ahead with it.

The matches began and we were off to a bad start. My #1 and #2 players were not playing well. Their matches ended fairly quickly: 3-10 and 1-10, respectively. My #7 was also off to a rough start. He had never played a varsity match before, and I think the nerves were getting to him. I believe the score was 3-6 or 3-7 at some point. The good news was that my #3 and #5 were both ahead. #4 was having a rough start, but kept the game close -- he was never down more than two games. The next matches to finish were my #3 and #5, both of whom won. Meanwhile, something clicked with #7, and he started to kick some ass. He mounted an unexpected comeback. He evened it up at 8-8, then 9-9. Sadly, he ended up losing 9-11, but it was an epic recovery. At this point, my #4's game was still not over. However, he ended up losing 8-10. Recap: At the end of the singles matches, our opponent was up four matches to two. That left the doubles.

My #1 and #2 players are the most emotional players on the team. When they're playing well, they ride the crest of that euphoria. When they're not playing well, they get really down on themselves. After their losses, they both went to their own little area to be alone and seethe. I told them to forget about it, that the doubles match was going to be their redemption. They didn't care; they were cold and angry at themselves. But it was time to get the matches started. My pairs of doubles: #1 and #2, #3 and #5, and #4 and #6.

Since #3 and #5 both won their singles matches, it wasn't a huge surprise that the two of them together won 10-2. I was also happy to see that my #4 and #6 were playing well. They won their match 10-2, as well. That evened the overall match score to 4-4. It was up to my #1 and #2 pair.

They weren't playing their best. At one point, they were up 3-2. But they lost a series of games and I believe the score was 4-5 or 4-6 by the time the other two doubles matches ended. Things weren't looking good. The opponents had stronger serves and stronger net plays, but my guys were fighting back, little by little. Then, all of a sudden, my #1 and #2 players were able to turn things around. They broke their opponents' serve. They won their serves. It was 7-6, then 8-6, then 9-6. They lost the next game, but won on their serve 10-7. And we ended up winning 5 matches to 4.

This post is solipsistic not because I'm trying to convey an interesting story or brag about my (rather lackluster) coaching skills. I'm writing it so that I can remember the nervousness of that last doubles match and the eventual relief and excitement of winning an overall match. I've never done anything remotely close to coaching a sports team before, and I've never really understood how much other people invest of themselves in sports. But today, this afternoon, I got it. I understood. It was a feeling unlike anything I've ever experienced before, and I'm not yet ready to let it go.

A review: Synecdoche, New York:
Jesus Christ Charlie Kaufman, what the fuck was that?
(interpret as you will)

Taking a cue from Adam, technology seems to be the current topic of conversation. That got me to thinking what it would be like If Cell Phones Were Around During Key Points In American History:

Signing of the Declaration of Independence

A stifling hot July 4th. The room is packed with exhausted men, all listening to John Hancock.

JOHN HANCOCK: Let me be the first to sign it. I want King George to see my signature at the top of-

Thomas Jefferson’s ringtone, Yankee Doodle, goes off. He sheepishly pulls out his cell phone and silences the ring.

THOMAS JEFFERSON (whispering to those around him): Sorry. Sorry.

Louisiana Purchase

Robert Livingston and the Marquees de Barbé-Marbois sit in a French café, eating lunch and discussing the land deal.

LIVINGSTON: As you know, the United States is willing to offer you a great deal of money for New Orleans.

BARBÉ-MARBOIS (blowing him off): Yeah, yeah. Listen, we’re willing to give you all of the Louisiana territory. When we get back to the embassy we can discuss the specifics.

LIVINGSTON (shocked, then signals for the waitress. His voice cracking slightly): Check, please.

The waitress places the check on the table.

LIVINGSTON: This one’s on me.

BARBÉ-MARBOIS: Why thank you.

LIVINGSTON: No, thank you.

He glances the check over, then pulls out his cell phone.

LIVINGSTON (mumbling to himself): Fifteen percent of...

He looks up, notices Barbé-Marbois staring at him, then glances back to his cell phone.

LIVINGSTON: Twenty percent...

Westward Expansion

Lewis and Clark on the Oregon Trail. They’re at the top of a mountain, overlooking the vast western territory. Lewis checks his phone.

LEWIS: Shit.

CLARK: What?

LEWIS: I’m roaming again.

CLARK: Sucks.

LEWIS: You have service?

CLARK: Nah.

They both turn and look at Sacagawea, chatting on her phone.

LEWIS: We’ve gotta switch providers.

Lincoln Assassination

A text message from one of the patrons at Ford’s Theatre: “omg omg omg AL shot in head. ttyl.”

Warren G. Harding’s Affair with Carrie Fulton Philips

Mr. and Mrs. Harding are entertaining dinner guests. Everyone’s a little tipsy, if not more.

MRS. HARDING: Darling, hand me your phone. I want to show everyone pictures of Rex.

Harding hands over his cell phone. Mrs. Harding cycles through the photos.

MRS. HARDING: Here he is running around on the lawn. And here he is in the Oval Office. And this one...

The guests gasp. Mrs. Harding drops the phone.

HARDING: What? What is it?

Kennedy Assassination

In addition to the Zapruder footage, a Dallas local, one Edward Bartlet, captures the assassination on his camera phone. Bartlet’s angle reveals the true location of the assassin (or assassins). Unfortunately, because his video is blurrier than Zapruder’s, it becomes inadmissible evidence.

In reference to one of my previous posts about old technology being cool again, I've thought it over and changed my mind. Old is the new black! With that in mind, I'm coming out with some new technologies sure to get the kids excited.

I'm pleased to introduce my new summer line of togas. They're like sheets, but they have holes in them for your head and arms. No longer will you be burdened with having to match clothing, or put more than one piece of clothing on at a time. With the new togas, just throw one over your shoulder and head out on the town! You're sure to get noticed. Warning: Accidental nudity may occur.

Also, are calculators bringing you down? Would you like a new high-low-tech way to do your math? Well, I've been thinking, and I'm very excited to say that from now on I'll be offering the TI-00 abacus for all your mathematical needs. Just move the little beads from side to side, and somehow that's supposed to help you with math! WAY easier than pressing silly numbers and symbols on a little electronic thing. What do those even mean? WHO KNOWS!? With the TI-00 abacus, all you need to know is how to count. And how to use an abacus to do math. Warning: Batteries and instructions not included.

Do all those colors on TV hurt your brain? Do you fear all the bright colors and loud noises may give you an epileptic seizure? Well, tune to the new station ADTV to watch all new shows produced in new black and white, silent vision! Only two colors, with varying shades of gray, and no talking! Instead, take a break from all the noise and watch people talk, and then read what they just said on a card held in front of the camera! Warning: The ability to read is required to fully enjoy ADTV. And isn't reading totally awesome?

Speaking of reading, have you wanted to be a writer, but all the scribbling or typing has prevented you from doing it so far? Do you wish there was a more tactile way of getting your thoughts down for others to see? Well now you can, with my new Tablet and Chisel set! Just like Moses bringing down the Ten Commandments, you too can spend an ungodly amount of time writing a page worth of stuff. Just take the tablet, place it on the ground, and chisel your thoughts into it. Just think of all the fun stuff you could write! Warning: Tablet may weigh in excess of 50 pounds. Warning: Chisel should not be used as a weapon, though it would be really easy and fun to do so.

And finally, are you tired of pressing buttons on your cell phone? Are your giant, fat fingers inaccurate at best when you're trying to dial? Well guess what. I've solved your problems. Introducing the rotary cell phone! Instead of stupid buttons, you simply insert your fingers into a small hole in a circle, rotate that circle until you can't rotate anymore, and release! Your time dialing will be tripled, maybe quadrupled! And with today's crazy hustle and bustle world, isn't it nice to just take fifteen or twenty minutes to sit down and dial a phone? Imagine how relaxing that sounds. Warning: Text messaging not available on rotary cell phones.

This is dangerous. I don't have a plan for this post. Normally I have some sort of rough idea of what I'm going to say, but nope, not this time. Totally on the fly. Off the cuff. Improvised. Stream of consciousness. From my thoughts, to my fingers, to you. Uncensorsed. Shit. Uncensored. See, I'm not even going back to fix my typos. My sister just commented on a bizarre commercial for chewing tobacco. Or fake chewing tobacco, she says. She seems very confused. As am I. And are you, probably.

This is why this is dangerous. I guess maybe I could say a few things in response to Adam's recent posts. So here goes, in no particular order: Commenting on racism, Adam? That sounds BORING. I'm glad you didn't devote a WHOLE POST to something so boring. I suggest buying things online. In store experiences are boring and so 20th century. I don't like fancy technology like touch screens, either, but Coraline came out in 3D and that movie is cool and not boring. Everything else in 3D, however, seems boring.

Someone gave me a thesaurus one time, but it was a boring gift, so I threw it away.

This is really just an obligatory post, I'm not gonna lie. I'm leaving again. Up to Syracuse, New York for a bachelor/bachelorette party. I'll be back Sunday. That means no update from me in the next few days, regardless of the fact that it's been over a week since my last post and I've been not-traveling the entire time. So... yes. But hey, check it out. It's only March 11th, and this will mark our 30th post of the year. That's crazy. We're already past the one-third mark of surpassing our record-breaking 75 posts in one year. It's true -- I don't think any other blog has ever posted more than 75 times in one year. Why, that's an average of one post every 4.866666666666666666 days! Who can possibly top that?! Impossible!

Oh, and I got into grad school. One of my grad schools, anyway. Haven't heard from the other four. Regardless, this amateur shit will turn into professional shit starting this August. Mark your calendars.

Two things that will probably not take that long to discuss. One, Resident Evil 5 comes out next week, and I'm pretty pumped. However, there's one thing kind of about the game that I already don't like, and that's the fact that people are actually wondering if the game is racist because it features a white man, Chris Redfield, previously seen as a white man in several other RE games, shooting black zombie folks in Africa. So the premise of this discussion is it's a white man killing black people so it's racist. And here's the reason it's not. The game features a previously established white man and places him in Africa. Would it make sense for Chris Redfield to all of a sudden be a black man so he could non-racistly shoot black zombies? Or would it make more sense for him to be in the only small, remote African village full of white people so he could non-racistly shoot white people? Answer: it wouldn't make sense either way. In reality, he's a fake computer animated image on a screen shooting other fake computer animated images on a screen. And I actually have kind of a deeper problem with the racism debate in this game. How come in a 50 Cent videogame he can run around shooting all the white people he wants, and nobody thinks twice, but when a white videogame character shoots black videogame characters IN AFRICA, it's racist? How come whenever white people do anything to anyone of another race, it's racist, but when shit gets done to white people, it's justice or revenge or okay? Fuck that shit.

Two, I just want to thank Circuit City for going out of business, because now that giant shithole of a store Best Buy is free to do whatever the fuck it wants with stocking merchandise, providing customer service, and having sales. It has no competition anymore, which means that the "wonderful selection" (read: never having anything, ever) and "great customer service" (read: drooling morons standing around slapping their own faces and saying 'duh') you've come to expect at Best Buy are already going right down the tubes. It took me a week and five Best Buy stores to find the new Neko Case album that was FEATURED IN THEIR OWN GOD DAMNED AD!

The first time I went into a Best Buy, I was informed that they didn't carry that CD. The second time I went into a Best Buy, I looked at their computer that shows their inventory, which said the store had 10 copies. After looking in the normal places (the 'C' section of the CDs and the endcap that features their new and on sale CDs), I made the mistake of asking an employee if there's anywhere else it could be, and his answer was "If it's not on the shelf, we don't have it." But what about the 10 copies it says you have? 10 seems like a lot of copies of a CD to be nonexistent. But no, no help there. Why Best Buy employs people to wander around and be fuckwits I have no idea. They need one moron at the cash register to ask me if I want a $4 replacement plan on my $7 CD, and that's it. I can wander around aimlessly and not know where anything is by myself, I don't need a jackass in a blue shirt to lead me. That taught me my lesson, so the rest of the times I just went in, looked for myself for a couple of seconds, and left.

I'd love to support my local independent shop, but it's even more worthless than Best Buy. The Finest was a great record store when I moved here, and now two of their three locations have closed, and this Fort Collins shop is looking pretty sad. Weird little indie people shuffle around behind the desk while customers ask if they have anything, which they really don't. A lot of terrible old records nobody wants, but not much new. And what is new is 16.99 per CD. That's FYE prices, for Christ's sake.

I finally did find the Neko Case CD, after driving all the way to Denver. There is nothing good about Best Buy, from the guy whose job is to stand in front of the door saying disingenuous hellos to all the people who walk in to the people at the register who seem like they would rather be hanging themselves than working there. So thanks, Circuit City, for leaving us with this one option. You were always even worse on selection and service and price than Best Buy, but at least you gave them cause to try a little bit. Now who even cares? Thank God for the internet. I know where I'll be doing all my electronics shopping for the rest of my life.

Alright, it's time for me to ask: What's the deal with touch screens? Touch screens aren't cool. Touch screens aren't new. But for some reason, someone has convinced everyone that touch screens are new and cool. I remember touching screens my whole life. In fact, at one ill-advised point in time, McDonalds put touch screen ordering computers in their restaurants, which allowed slow old people to stand in front of it for forty five minutes trying to figure out how to order a cheeseburger while moronic employees stood behind the counter trying to shout how to use the thing at them. It also allowed customers to take part in screwing up their own orders. For some strange reason, these touch screens were quickly removed and replaced by paid employees who stare at a screen for forty five minutes trying to figure out how to place your order for a cheeseburger.

A quick aside: I went to Wendy's once, and I ordered one thing. I ordered a junior bacon cheeseburger. I was in the drive through. I was handed a bag. I went back to work. I opened the bag. CHICKEN FUCKING NUGGETS! One thing, I ordered. And it's not like I got a junior cheeseburger with no bacon or something. I got little balls of fried "chicken." It's not even the same meat! It's not even the same container!

Anyway, touch screens. I have a cell phone that has buttons on it. Those buttons are clearly defined by little indentations between them so that I know exactly which buttons I'm hitting. It also clicks in to tell me when I have sufficiently pressed the button. These are what we in the industry call "features." These features have "benefits." The benefits include being able to quickly and precisely do what I'm trying to do on my phone. Touch screens lack these features, and instead feature big bright screens with tiny tiny little text on them. So you get on the internet on your queer little pocket laptop, and you want to check the scores of the game. You press your big elephant finger in the general area of the link you want to hit, and you have an equal chance of hitting any of the other tiny tiny little links in the area. AND you look extra douchey doing it. There's nothing quite like busting out your touch screen phone and showing your friends all the awesome shit it can do in theory. Then you get a phone call and have trouble dragging the little answer bar across the screen and miss the call. AWESOME! Way better than hitting the green button. Touch screens are not cool and not new.

Also, chicken nuggets are not a junior bacon cheeseburger.

There's one more "cool" "new" technology that I've been unfortunately seeing resurface recently, and that's 3-D. I'm growing slowly aware that if a studio thinks it's got a weak product on its hands, it'll just film it in 3-D. Are you aware that currently, there is a Jonas Brothers concert in 3-D being shown to our children in our theaters? I'm not positive about this, but I think that may be child abuse. Also, did you watch the Super Bowl? Do you remember any of the commercials? Neither do I. But I do remember being pissed that I missed the memo that I was supposed to go pick up 3-D glasses in order to watch any of the commercials. And have you ever worn 3-D glasses? Can you imagine strapping those uncomfortable torture devices to your head for a full hour and a half to watch a movie filmed that way?

Christ, what is this world coming to? First we have religion causing never ending wars. Then we have a total collapse of our economic systems. And now we have to put up with douchebags masturbating to touch screen phones, and kids being forced to watch 3-D movies? I quit.

Health! It's amazing! (I'm on the Health ad council, and that's the best we've been able to come up with after fourteen days of work. Could be worse. Could be worse.)

I know I'm supposed to talk about Mardi Gras, and maybe I'll get around to that one day, but first I'd like to give you my list of Top 3 Game Show Hosts I'd Like to Punch in the Face. Now, true, I'm an advocate of non-violence. But these three guys... I tell you what. I see them and there's some sort of Darwinian instinct that makes me want to harm them. Without further ado...

1. Pat Sajak. Nothing you say will convince me otherwise: Pat Sajak is an asshole. Look at this guy. He's just oozing insincerity. If there's one thing a game show host should do, it's fake interest. But he's the worst at faking.

2. Chuck Woolery. Like Sajak, he's pretty bad at feigning interest. But he mixes in the sketchy perv element, then tops it off by being completely aloof at his own game. (I speak of Lingo. He also hosted that Greed show, too, I believe, but I never watched it.) Seriously, I don't know of a single game show host that would play his or her own game as poorly as Chuck would. He has a horrible grasp on the English language!

3. Donny Osmond. While Sajak and Woolery can't fake it enough, Osmond goes on some sort of faking binge. I cannot take anything he says seriously. When he's hosting Pyramid, he has to read those mind-dumbening puns (are there any other kind?) and then he does that Donny Osmond laugh. And yes, that's right. Mind-dumbening. I'm making up a new word to describe the atrocious puns that someone, I'm led to believe, actually put time and effort into compiling. Throw in the fact that these episodes are all reruns of washed-up B or C-list celebrities from yesteryear, and this show makes me cry for numerous reasons.

Perhaps what you would consider an surprising omission from the list: Rodger Lodge. Here's my take on Rodge Lodge. I think he's goofy as hell, but at least it seems like he's having fun. That's more than I can say for the other three fellows. And his name kinda rhymes, so really, I can't help but smile.

I swear I don't constantly watch the Game Show Network.

Let's talk for a few minutes about trick endings in movies. I've identified two trick endings that have been used to death, and therefore suck. A quick warning: you may disagree with the following assessments of these movies. You're free to have your own opinions. Just know that they're wrong, unless they're the same opinions I have.

Let's start with The Cardinal Sin of writing: the "It Was All A Dream" ending. It's the ultimate slap in the face for everyone who's watching or reading what you have produced. It is in effect saying "Thanks for sticking with me through two hours of this nonsense; now I will reward you with the fact that NONE OF THAT JUST HAPPENED. That's right, it was all a huge waste of your time and attention!" If you know me at all, you know that I hate the movie Vanilla Sky with a passion. That's because, as I remember it, about a third of the way through the movie, Tom Cruise has some kind of accident. For the following 90% of the movie, we watch him running around doing some things, see Penelope Cruz's boobs, and are generally kind of bored but wondering what's going on. Then, right at the end, BAM! He wakes up. See, after his accident, he went into a coma or something and was preserved in some kind of science fiction life preserving thing. So what you just watched for the last hour and a half didn't happen at all. At this point, the viewer throws up their hands at the screen and exclaims "Are you KIDDING!?" and walks out of the theater wondering why he wasted his life watching a mediocre movie that didn't even happen.

A similar and equally frustrating movie was Oceans 12, in which the caper they were spending the whole movie focusing on was actually completed soon after the opening credits. It goes a little something like this: Movie starts, caper is explained, caper is completed, lots of unnecessary actions, wasted time acting like the caper wasn't completed, fake "witty" dialog, and then, right at the end, BAM! the big reveal that you just wasted an hour and a half of your time watching unnecessary actions, wasted time, and real "shitty" dialog, because the damn deal was done in the first fifteen minutes of the movie.

I'm not sure what kind of sadistic people think this stuff up, but the "...then he woke up" or "...it was all solved a long time ago" ending, what I am deeming the WOYFT (Waste of Your Fucking Time) ending, is a cruel joke, an easy way to get an "oooooooooo" from a stupid audience. It's a cop out, a cheap way to explain away any inconsistencies in the plot or any unrealistic items therein. It should be taught in Intro to Kindergarten Writing that any ending that totally negates the entire movie or book is a bad ending. I don't want to invest my time and money in something that is ultimately going to tell me that it was all a dream, a joke on me.

The second trick ending that needs to be put to bed is the "They're the same person!" ending, made popular for our generation by the timeless classic Fight Club. I'm sure there have been plenty of movies before that one that used this ending, but that one was the one for me that made me go "Holy God, they're the same fucking person. I just peed myself a little." It was awesome. The ending was used to much the same effect in Identity, a neat little thriller that pulled it off well. But then there were throngs of movies and shows where multiple people were the same person in actuality. It actually got to the point where at the beginning of every movie and TV show, if there are two people talking to each other, I assume that they are the same person right up until the end of the movie, regardless of whether that assumption makes sense or not. I had this feeling during the first three seconds of the movie Secret Window, and it turned out, I was right. Johnny Depp and John Turturro were the same person, and the whole time the movie was ever so subtly leading up to this point, I was just repeating "they're the same person" over and over in my head. It ruined the movie knowing the trick ending before it started, and it ruined the movie that it was so painfully obvious that that's what was going to happen.

Signs that you're watching a movie that's about to roll this dusty corpse of an ending out onto the screen include two characters never being in the same place at the same time (Superman Syndrome), two characters being at the same place at the same time but other people don't seen to notice one of them (Sixth Sense Syndrome [yeah, I know Bruce Willis and that kid weren't the same person, and actually, Sixth Sense was an excellent trick ending, but still, they were in the same place all the time and no one paid attention to Bruce Willis, so you see where I'm going with this]), and watching a movie made in the early 2000s that was a thriller. This is an example of a great trick ending being used so often that it becomes a bad cliche ending. I call this the They Were All The Same! (TWATS!) ending.

I actually thought of one more ending while writing this, and that's the "Aliens Get Killed by Some Common Earth Substance" ending. I'm looking at you, Signs and War of the Worlds. Let's start with some awesome killer aliens coming and just dominating Earth, enslaving people, killing people, destroying civilization. But wait! This hyper advanced civilization out in the universe conquering lesser civilizations should have done more research on OUR planet, because we have water, and that decimates them! Or, our atmosphere is toxic and they just kind of die. Someone back at home base is getting fired for this one! Seriously, what we want to see is an epic human-alien battle in which our obviously pathetic-in-comparison species is obliterated by these evil aliens. That's a realistic ending. You think these guys have mastered bending space so they could conquer the universe, built crazy ass ships and weapons, and they didn't look into the fact that WATER KILLS THEM!?!? I don't have trouble believing that there are aliens wanting to kill us, I have trouble believing they'd commit an oversight of such majestic proportions. I call this the Stupid Aliens Die (SAD) ending.

So, moving forward, Hollywood, please stop making movies that end like this. Also, stop making bad sequels to bad movies, remakes of bad movies, and bad movies. Thank you.