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Today, I’d like to take a moment to pay my respects to the greatest gizmo of all time: The Nintendo Power Glove.

For those of you who don’t remember, the Power Glove was released as a peripheral to the Nintendo Entertainment System in 1989. That is also, coincidentally, when it entered my heart.

First of all, I understand that it’s fiction. And I’m willing to accept the notion of a space alien with the power to fly, see through stuff, and wear primary colors without looking stupid. But there were still some things in this movie that just can’t be reckoned with.

The plot goes like this: Marlon Brando and his wife have discovered that their home planet of Krypton (which is, apparently, an English-speaking planet) is going to blow up. Why? Who knows, but the fact that all the office buildings are made out of crystals might have something to do with it.

My latest ramblings revolve around a staple of American culture… Scooby Doo.

Apparently, during the late 60s, there was a crime wave of people dressing up as monsters.

The purpose of this was to scare people away from one of the following: 1) a treasure, 2) a competitor in the inn/resort/theme-park business, or 3) an inn that was about to be forcibly purchased or repossessed from an owner who was no longer able to make payments.

Dear Pip – what was the worst movie ever?

The worst movie ever written, produced, and unleashed upon unsuspecting audiences was Dude, Where’s My Car?.

Forget Plan 9. Forget Dead Alive. These movies were, admittedly, horrific, but neither captured the almost malevolent shittiness of Dude, Where’s My Car?.

And Dude had no excuse. It had stars (well, quasi-stars, anyway), hot girls, and money – these elements alone should have been able to pull me through a passable hour and a half.

But no — I had to watch Dude in installments, to keep from choking upon my own bile.

If I ever had to choose between watching this movie again and masturbating with sandpaper –well, I’d probably go with the movie, but only after careful consideration.

Yesterday I watched this movie adaptation of Vertigo’s venerated Hellblazer series. I’m not going to comment on it, because comic movies are always cursed to simultanously suck and rule, but I do want to comment on director Whatever-his-name-is’s presentation of Hell.