Latest Issue Entertainment TV Blog

It Was Uncalled For

2006-11-22T08:03:00.000-08:00

Okay, all of us web junkies by now have seen the Michael (Kramer) Richards footage of him screaming racial slurs by now. And all of us know that what he did was a terrible thing. I don't think you guys need me to write a book about that. Plain as day.

However, as much as Richards should be scolded for what he did, so should the men who caused the ruckus in the first place. Cracker may not have the same impact as the word nigger but it is still a slur. No excuses. But since they are not famous, or even on camera, the media insteads focuses on Richards. I wonder how much heckling they must have done to drive Richards into such a rage. Is he racist? Perhaps the same as you and I, for all of us have a flawed human nature and you don't need a theological degree or a doctorate in psychology to know that if push comes to shove the worst will come out of us.

Either way, Richards has apologized and I'm willing to forgive him and move on. Some of you might be thinking how could I forgive him since I'm not black. You see, that is the problem. I see racial slurs as not just offending a certain group but all groups. Everyone. And if maybe we all saw it that way maybe there wouldn't be so many racial problems in this country.

What do you think?

Not talking About 9/11

2006-09-11T10:06:00.000-07:00

Originally I wanted to talk about my experiences with 9/11 but to be honest, I'm sick to death with all the movies and media trying to push their perspective of what happened down my throat. I'm tired of talking about it. I'm tired of listening about it. I'm tired of hearing about 9/11 being about heroism and new ways for Hollywood to make a buck. Do you really want to know what I think about 9/11?

People running to the trains when I was going above ground.

The rain of ash falling on us between plane crashes.

The rumbling on the ground as the first tower fell.

Wrapping my shirt around my face so I wouldn't breathe the fog of dust enveloping the city.

Confusion; everyone thinking City Hall was bombed, no one knowing how to get home.

People screaming on the bridge, thinking a plane that passed by would crash on us.

And right now, I heard about how so many volunteers are now sick because the government agencies lied to them about how toxic the air was around Ground Zero.

When will that movie come out?

Infernal Toon

2006-07-11T00:22:00.000-07:00

Words are resoundingly poor for expression of the visual horror that awaits you. Click on the above image.

It will hurt, and you will cry.

Role Model Non Grata

2006-06-30T01:16:00.000-07:00

Anna has graced you lowlings with her review of Anime Next 2006 over at Latest Issue East. In consideration of the barbarous who cannot value that young lady’s immaculate prose, she was kind enough to throw in an orgy of pretty pictures. The day after AN 06’ concluded, I planned on giving our ever so helpful-Anna a call to thank her for all the work she did that weekend. Lamentably, I had to rethink the gesture. You too would find yourself unenthused about dialing someone up again when their idea of phone sex is nude recitation of Zentradi yaoi while partially submerged in a bathtub full of Steven Seagal’s Lightning Bolt: Asian Experience Energy Drink.

Regarding this year’s Anime Next, I bring you one of plentiful tales. Filming at AN, or at any other geek symposium, places you in the path of interesting people. There was hardly a shortage of human dioramas this time around. Though a great deal of the company I enjoyed was memorable (like the Urusei Yatsura cosplayer who told me the story of how she broke her hymen while trying on a chastity belt), one little man distinguished himself in my mind. Now when I say ‘little’, let me clarify that said fellow was six feet tall; but the way he was acting made it difficult to view him with immensity.

I approached this puddle of dejection to ask about his outfit. As I walked forward with my trademark LIETV strut, I noticed how fearful he seemed and the awkwardness in his body language. After the first minute of conversation he confessed to me how uncomfortable he was feeling as well as the inexplicable fear he suffered at the mere idea of walking over and talking to someone. Indeed, here was a young man who hitchhiked to attend an anime convention—a type of event that facilitates highly social atmosphere—in salient costume, no less…whining over his communicative impotence. Better still, he asks me for advice on how to deal with it, as if affectionately calling girls ‘disgruntled lesbians’ on camera and making retarded quadriplegic children-jokes between segments qualifies me as a therapist. In the face of his plea, I could’ve stared this guy away, hurled all sorts of invectives at him, showed up at his house and rendered his cream cheese useless by eating the entire pack of bagels only after slapping his mother. Then I thought, “Hey, why do what I always do in situations like this?”

I shared a self-esteem exercise with him that any anime fan can understand. It is a technique I myself developed many years ago to help deal with my own insecurities and issues before stepping toward manifest greatness. I asked the guy if he had ever watched Neon Genesis Evangelion. Having confirmed that he did, I asked him which character he hated the most in that series. Naturally, he responded with ‘Shinji Ikari’, going further to say that the boy is arguably the most despised protagonist in the history of Japanese animation. Armed with everything I needed to know to make this advice work for my wayward listener, I instructed him to think about Shinji intensely (not that kind of ‘intensely’), to mentally replay every scene featuring that character over and over again. Puzzled at my counsel, he walked off to do what he was told.

An hour or so later, he came up to me with a confident smile and a ‘thank you.’ He went on about how persistently visualizing Shinji led him to compare himself to that weak jackass and made him realize how pathetic he was behaving. All that anger and irritation with bitch-ass Ikari was thus redirected at himself, allowing him to break his own constraint out of sheer frustration. It didn’t produce an instant remedy for his problems, but he mustered up enough nerve to go make a few new friends that day.

There it is. Let’s all be happy for the poor soul. Eventually, I intend to send him a complimentary Latest Issue-plunger. I suppose the rest of you will want one of those too, so it’s my responsibility under company policy to inform you that our plungers are not designed for toilet use. Rather, their function is to suck food out through the eyes of a fat person in the event they eat tainted Yak. Mine came in handy during the wait in line for Superman Returns.

Lest the growth of the contributors list on this blog play elusive, new agents within our sphere of internet dominion will begin posting soon. This Star Wars flash on NewGrounds might provide entertainment until their debut. Once they arrive, be nice to them if you don’t want me to inflict episodes of The Galaxy Trio upon you.

Diabolical Dialogues

2006-06-19T23:27:00.000-07:00

I'm usually a somewhat private person. When I'm not composing enchanting symphonies of video hosting-godhood, people speculate all manner of conjecture as to what I do during my debilitating absence from their lives. Since I am in a gracious mood, I shall now grant the repeated request of some frequent convention goers and create an AIM screen name through which all you imperfect creatures can pester me. I'll be online under the name IvanLIETV.

However, the inability of many human beings to generate interesting conversation is something I've become sadly aware of due to my participation in this evil called Latest Issue. So to help any of you who may suffer from that oral affliction, here are a few discussion topics to start out with when you first IM me:

There should be a culture in which being nude is mandatory for funeral attendance.

I'd like to see a horse race after which the winning horse throws the jockey off his back and begins to eat him alive.

Judges who insist on wearing pants under their robes deserve to be pummeled savagely.

When announcing a decision to a group of my colleagues or friends, I tell them it was unanimous. Sure, I’m the only party involved, but saying it was unanimous makes the decision sound more important.

Would you like to know how I avoid dealing with long lines at an ice cream truck? Here’s my secret: I wear a t-shirt that says, “Children are delicious.”

I don’t like mimes. To me, they’re the larval stage of clowns.

What sentence makes sense only when you say it on Venus? This one: “Tomorrow is not soon enough; I need it by next year.”

You promote overthrow of the government—they call you an enemy. You overthrow the government—they call you a hero. Go figure.

If someone throws a penny at you, dodge. Pennies hurt.

Don’t try to recognize everyone equally. Some people are just better than others. If you disagree with that, you’re not one of the better ones.

The one challenging and fulfilling career I long for is to be a shark dentist.

Just for fun, adorn a wall of your house with framed women’s underwear. When your girlfriend demands an explanation, tell her these are trophies from all your previous adventures. Of course, her thong should be bronzed and placed on a marble stand; true love deserves nothing less than the honorable mention.

Xenophobia In The Face

2006-06-12T23:17:00.000-07:00

We find it hardly surprising that the dear hoi polloi I keep alive as afterthought receptacles gravitate to my all-knowing countenance over many a question. As unsurprisingly, a sizeable chunk of the constant queries bears drollery to the fuckteenth degree.

A verbal probe that rains down on me ceaselessly from the video game-inclined, including my black friends, is “Hey Ivan, what’s up with that intro sequence in Street Fighter II where the white guy punches out the black guy?” The ostensibility of my wisdom granted, why do you commoners keep pelting me with this inanity? Skinny brown men can only entertain such ponderings for so long before spontaneous anal rapes occur. I won’t rule out a Capcom ball gag for the especially persistent.

Latest Issue receives free stuff of all varieties.

A sample from the LIETV job application

2006-05-20T23:55:00.000-07:00

To the astonishment of higher life forms such as ourselves, most humans do seem hopelessly moronic. The alternative prospect would entail a specificity of these cerebrally deficient creatures to those seeking employment with Latest Issue. I hope such is not the case. For the sake of readers pondering my answer to this question when I applied all those moons ago: “C”.

One perk attached to being sexy is the automatic correctness of anything you write.

Failure Par Excellence

2006-05-12T21:39:00.000-07:00

A giant red sun will go nova within hours...12 star systems inhabited by sentient beings will be destroyed. An omnipotent race, known only as Primaries, declare their power to save one civilization from extinction. To win the right to survive, each race must choose a champion strong enough to compete in a tournament to the death. Only one warrior can emerge triumphant…

Fourteen years later, that opening is still vaguely erotic.

Yielding its lust in 1992 was Fighting Masters, a sub par endeavor by Sega to counter the exclusive release of Street Fighter II: The World Warrior on Nintendo’s Super NES. With the Genesis being all I owned at the time, my game library played recipient to this miscreation developed and published by Treco (currently known in prison as “Acclaim's girlfriend”).

It was garbage, but it was memorable garbage.

No sane person would’ve expected it or any other ensuing fighting title for that matter, to challenge SF2. SNK may have pulled that off with the King of Fighters series; however, I had to admire Fighting Masters for trying. Under all its woefulness, I found the game charming. There were only four fight backgrounds. In-game graphics, even then, sucked. The move sets had about as much depth as a midget’s vagina. Most painfully, the awkward control scheme was capped off by the allocation of jumping to the C button instead of the d-pad.

Yet the main theme music cycles within my mind whenever I’m forced to deal with the ineptitude of anyone who isn’t me. I have it on my Nomad.

The fighter roster presented twelve warriors of differing species, ranging from the curious to the comical. One of them was a bipedal crustacean named Zygrunt. A friend of mine encapsulated both the combat style and nature of this character in response to my inquiry over why it appeared so difficult to beat in single player mode: “He’s offensive.”

Indeed.
A funny thing I noticed about the character selection was that it listed giant sizes to all of the fighters. The average height was 58 feet and weight varied from over 1,000 pounds to nearly 2 tons. What was the point of this? Taking into account how the lifeless, static backgrounds utterly failed at conveying any sense of enormity, you have to wonder if Treco was stupid enough to believe their little stat-charade would make the brawlers in Fighting Masters seem as big to the player as those in Street Fighter II.

Overall gameplay was simple if not capable of producing only transitory enjoyment. Crude aerial thrusts and low leg strikes were at your disposal. Each character had a stun jab you could use to daze your opponent for execution of a power move. These more formidable attacks usually consisted of a grab/throw of some kind, often catapulting both participants airborne before slamming the victim back into terra firma.

After dispensing with the twelve playable fighters in single round bouts, you face Valgasu, the boss. It is unclear whether or not this ivory-clad likeness of Satan is a primary; what is certain is that he holds some high status, as indicated by the removal of his cape just before he proceeds to lay waste your pride. Big V (it’s a pet name, he calls me Sweetness) has a life meter nearly the length of the ENTIRE SCREEN, its bars dropping a measly two or three at a time against your best moves. He routinely leaps at you from the other side of the arena in one hop and his attacks inflict outrageous amounts of damage—like the sequence in which he dribbles you like a basketball prior to delivering a few kicks to the nutsack. That’s assuming whatever alien character you’re playing has a scrotum to begin with.

If you can survive Valgasu’s onslaught and defeat him, you will preserve the continued existence of your people so the story goes. Fighting Masters is doubtlessly one of the worst games I’ve ever played, so terrible that it did and still entertains me.

Sakura Matsuri has been added.

2006-05-08T17:39:00.001-07:00

Got comments or questions? Leave them here and let me know what's up!

Will Cartoon Network Be The New MTV?

2006-05-01T20:50:00.000-07:00

Ugh...

It's bad enough that Cartoon Network doesn't give JLU any respect, and probably won't even publicize the last episode in the next few weeks. It's bad enough that they play Goonies (a good movie but not animated) when there are a lot of great animated movies that could use more exposure. But now, during my Adult Swim hour, they are playing "Saved By The Bell" reruns.

Sigh...

I remember when MTV was nothing but music videos. There used to be great tv shows like Yo! MTV Raps and 120 Minutes where it would be nothing but about the music. It was great being exposed to new music. Then the Real World came along. Nowadays when I think about the sewer system I wonder how MTV is doing. It's filled with reality garbage and dating shows.

I think otakus and animated fans should rally and let CN know that there are people out there that want to see good stuff. Shall we let history repeat itself. In the end, it's up to you. I don't know about you but I rather watch two giant robots battle each other out or have fast food talk to each other than watch "Save By The Bell."

Oh well, enough about my rant. By the way, if any of you are reading this and have a myspace account, feel free to add me as a friend. It's http://www.myspace.com/lietv

Fight The Power,

E

3 Ounces of Aluminum Overkill

2006-04-25T01:02:00.000-07:00

Be that my stunning greatness expresses itself via wisecracks and absurd narrative of interpersonal theatre, I'd be remiss if this blog weren't graced yet again by a semi-anecdote from the pages of Latest Issue.

The recent Big Apple Con provided me ample fodder for my posts thanks in no small part to the many experiences I underwent that, for all their brevity, seemed like one infinitude after another. My disregard for number agreement in the previous sentence not withstanding, poorly thought out attempts at securing favors from me in exchange for an interview offend my vanity. Such was the case when a comic book artist tried to barter some potential footage if I helped him decipher the enigma that was his new mobile phone. I have no problem with fulfilling minor requests or taking occasional trips to the bathroom if it means I'll score video time with the object of my condescension, but I refused aforementioned artist's proposal to unravel the Motorola RAZR V3 upon listening to his description of said device:

“It's an Mp3 player, GPS unit, portable gaming system, compos, gyroscope, digital camera, audio/video recorder, AM/FM radio, satellite radio, garage door opener, pager, anal probe, watch, video player, walky-talky, metal detector, flash light, bomb detonator, Taser, blood pressure monitor, laser pointer, pepper sprayer, EZ pass, police scanner, memory card, battery charger, electric toothbrush, blow dryer, can opener, iron, vibrator, mini-microwave oven, toaster, calculator, holographic projector, alarm clock, radar system, food processor, document shredder, lighter, power screw driver, night vision goggle-piece, microscope, telescope, seismograph, magnetometer, thermometer, barometer, stapler, tape gun, pubic shaver, AKG monitor, asthma pump, particle accelerator, motion sensor, remote toilet flusher, soap dispenser, coffee maker, and The Infinity Gauntlet. Oh, it's also a phone.”

I may be far more tech-savvy than this clown, but I will not allow myself to waste professional time on a contraption that sucks me in with grossly unnecessary features. Big boss Ortiz hands out severe penalties for distraction on the job; I'll show you the scar if we ever meet in person.

The Glans Credentials

2006-04-19T23:06:00.000-07:00

Well, that's something of an exaggeration.

One inevitably tires of having to present his press badge to event security, guest vassals, the guests themselves, and imperial stormtroopers at every turn. My disdain for this harassment at our usual killing fields prompted me to take a giggle-inducing course of action during the Big Apple Con. Fruit of frustration it may have been, but the psychological insight I gained was profound. You'd be in awe of how effortlessly I can bypass resistance by clipping a badge over my happy zone.

SECURITY PERSON: “Sir, I want to see your press badge.”
IVAN MARTIN: “Of course. Here.”
SECURITY PERSON: [momentary silence] “Uh, that's okay. You can go about your business sir.”
IVAN MARTIN: “You didn't even check it.”
SECURITY PERSON: “I said go about your business!”

IVAN MARTIN: “Hi, I'm Ivan Martin and I'm with Latest Issue Entertainment. Let's do an interview.”
FEMALE MODEL: “I don't know. Can you show me your press badge?”
IVAN MARTIN: “Sure. Here it is.”
FEMALE MODEL: “Wait, I’m having trouble reading this.”
IVAN MARTIN: “You’re pulling it.”
FEMALE MODEL: “I’m sorry; the light is making it hard.”
IVAN MARTIN: “Ow! Don’t bend it that way.”
FEMALE MODEL: “You know what, forget the press badge and let’s just do the interview.”

My many stalkers fired innumerable Emails upon hearing of this pelvic beau geste. The lion's share of their messages posited two questions. The first asked if I plan on auctioning that Big Apple Con press badge; the second inquired about a theoretical role that oral sex might’ve played in the development of spoken language. I shall answer the former with…“no.” As for the latter, I haven't the faintest idea. Ask our deity of omniscience about it.

Four-Color Culling

2006-04-12T10:55:00.000-07:00

After you've become an experienced correspondent of genre events and niche market conventions, the occasional ceremony I refer to as "looking at all the shit I picked up" wills itself into monthly frequency. My latest inspection yielded something amusing.

This youth smoking-prevention ad I've raped your eyes with comfortably occupies the inside-back cover of an Ultimate X-Men #1-3 Collected Edition that I acquired at the recent Big Apple Con. Now, 2001 was centuries ago and Lorillard's laughable attempts to stave off the anti-tobacco Nazis with placement of these "Tobacco is whacko if you're a teen" globs in comic books have been written about to death. I will thus not belabor you with viewpoints already expressed. Rather than discuss how the reverse psychology of these adverts demonstrates intent to lure minors into smoking, I will instead sing the praises of Lorillard and comics for doing something positive on behalf of the human race.

While abominations like TheTruth.com might contend that "good kids" must see through such condescending propaganda as a form of subliminal snobbery designed to make teenagers want to rebel and smoke, I think those youths who do smoke in response to campaigns like this one are the good kids.

I'm a big fan of natural selection. People who unquestioningly obey the influences around them are floating turds in our gene pool. Any teen that looked at a "Tobacco is whacko blah blah blah" ad and decided he/she won't smoke on account of that tripe is not someone I want to share this planet with. I hope kids like that got hit by condom trucks on their way home from school. Other adolescents who resented being talked down to and blackened their lungs in defiance have my respect and appreciation. They are more likely to be leaders, revolutionaries and creative geniuses...and they will live long enough to fulfill that promise: Many of the chemicals in cigarettes are mutagens. That's right kiddies, smoke enough and one day you'll develop mutant powers! It was a brilliant move by Lorillard to stealthily promote their super power-granting products in a medium dominated by super beings, further ensuring the survival of the fittest.

From the deepest chasms of my heart, I thank Lorillard for their help in weeding out the genetic liabilities among us and I am proud that comic books, an art form I cherish, were allowed to participate in this noble effort.

Why am I still here?

2006-04-10T09:05:00.000-07:00

Man, I had good reason to quit this production after getting crushed at Chiller Theater back in '04. Nothing hurts more than being verbally bitch smacked and having it saved to a digital medium. My sucktasticness is forever archived and distributed via binary code. Why continue? I seriously sucked, making mistakes so basic and obvious I still cringe. When people are nervous, they often use a word over and over. I said "fantastic" 28 times in under an hour. If you ever want to bust my balls, just say "fantastic" very slowly. For those of you asking "Who is this clown?" let me give you the vital stats.
Name - Chris Wallach
Known aliases -the defendant, that fucking pervert, AlcoWallach
Height - 6'0"
Weight - fat ass
Skin - pasty white
Hair - receding
Eyes -blue, shifty, bloodshot, baggy
Occupation - loser, loudmouth
Hobbies - rapping about Satan, lying, ruining movies for other people, Marlboro, Pro Tools
Known to frequent - opium dens, psych wards, corners, comic conventions
Turn ons - wheelchairs, stairs, mirrors, conversations about me, watching bags
Turn offs - Walter Koenig, Frank Vincent, Bill Mumy, people who correct grammar

Portrait of an Ex-Porn Star

2006-04-09T09:30:00.000-07:00

I just want to read to you some of her traits that I found in AmIAnnoying.com

Occupation: Adult Actress

(October 23, 1970- )
Birth name is Rhea Alexandria Devlugt
Starred in 'World's Biggest Gang Bang 2,' 'House of Whores,' 'L.A. 399,' 'Jasmin's Final Gang Bang' and 'Jizz Junkies'
Appeared on ECW Wrestling (2000)

Why she might be annoying:
She is credited under different names, such as Jasmin St. Clair, Jasmin St. Claire, Jasmine St. Claire, Tanya D'Angelo and Jasmine St. James.
She got into a fist fight with Jenna Jameson at the Adult Video News Awards.
She smokes.
While doing 'World Biggest Gang Bang 2' she constantly whined and moaned about the pain.
She claims to be the smartest girl in porn.
Many adult stars dislike her and find her stuck up.
She claims 'The only reason why I'm not leaving this business is because this is the only business where I can get my ass pounded.'

Why she might not be annoying:
She had sex with 300 men in four hours for 'World's Biggest Gang Bang 2' (1996).
She has an act where she shoots flames out of her vagina.
She loves South Park.
She is a chocoholic.
She is ranked #44 in The 50 Top Porn Stars of All Time (AVN - January 2002).
She graduated Columbia University with 3.6 GPA.
She enjoys doing martial arts.

Let me know what you think of those traits after you watch our footage on www.lietv.com

Later

Exordium

2006-04-06T23:35:00.000-07:00

For the benefit of the unprivileged who've yet to marvel at our on-camera shenanigans, I shall now extend you the hotness of an introduction.

We are "Latest Issue Entertainment" but you may address us as LIE TV or some other flattering compression. I am Ivan Martin, Latest Issue's pompous prince of sound bites. You'll recognize me in LIE footage as the ectomorphic Adonis with a knack for bringing out the best in our interviewees. Nothing makes better social lubricant than an inflated sense of self-importance.

As the purpose statement reads, we have assumed a mandate to entertain you with bits of pop culture that tickle us in that special place (our hearts, you freaks) while sneaking in our own warped perceptions of reality. That last part is what this blog will probably be more about. LIE TV's main site contains media and articles; however, you'll want to behold the blog if a full dive into our collective head is what you desire. My fellow God on the mic, Chris Wallach, will also rule the universe from here and dispense his unforgiving brand of verbal blade-breaking. I invite you to get to know us as we share our LIE-related experiences, personal musings, commentary, nonsense, and report flamboyantly distorted news.

Stay tuned for severe damage.