Tag: movies

RIP four years late, Bradley Allan

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

While scrolling through my phone instead of doing absolutely anything more constructively satisfying, I came across a clip of the 1998 Jackie Chan film, Gorgeous, notable for its incredible fight sequences, namely two fights between “CN” and this foreign fighter brought to HK to humble CN, introduced only as “Alan,” played by Jackie Chan stunt team member, Bradley Allan.

While the video brought back a lot of nostalgia of watching endless hours of kung-fu and martial arts films, I happened to notice a comment in the video that said, RIP Brad Allan.  Naturally, my brow furrowed and my mind went wtf??  Allan was a young guy in 1998, no reason he wouldn’t be alive and thriving just 27 years later, so I looked him up, and sure enough, Bradley Allan passed away in 2021 due to a heart attack, at the not-old age of 48.

This learned knowledge immediately made me very sad.  The fact that I’m even posting about it goes to show just how much I care about this information upon learning about it.

The above scene and quote from Gorgeous is a line that I still use on a fairly regular basis, when I want to no-sell any sort of pain or anxiety that the world tries to inflict on us, because much like Alan does to Jackie in the film, he’s dropped by a haymaker, acknowledges that it was a good hit… but not enough power.  He then proceeds to get back up and whoop Jackie’s ass in front of his adult star love interest, sending his character into a downward spiral of realizing that he works too much and sucks at fighting, and inspiring him to get better.

Metaphorically, and perhaps a little literally, this is what that quote means to me, and when shit is constantly hitting the fan, and I conclude that I don’t want to be defeated, by anything, I simply remind the opposition in my life, not enough power, and do my best to get back up and keep on fighting forward.

But aside from a single line from a single film, the loss of Bradley Allan really is palpable.  A lot of people don’t know who he even was, but aside from a few parts in a handful of films, his work as an action, fight and stunt choreographer was vastly more immense, having been involved in the productions of big name films and series like Avatar, Scott Pilgrim, Wonder Woman, Shang-Chi, and pretty much the entire Kingsman series.

I remember watching Argylle on the last cruise I was on, while mythical wife and I were just lounging in the room relaxing.  I had no idea that he was even involved in it, as the stunt coordinator, and I didn’t even catch in the credits that he is given a dedication, as it was the final film he ever worked on, released long after he had actually passed.

But Father Time is undefeated, and despite living by his quote from Gorgeous, eventually everyone gets hit with something that finally does have enough power.  Happy trails, Bradley Allan, I’m sad to have learned of your passing years late, but I hope you’ve been resting in peace all the same.  

Catching up on Marvel shows long after the fact

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

With the weather being as shitty as it sometimes gets in the peak winter months, I’ve been resorting to getting my cardio in via the treadmill as opposed to going outside to run and walk.  That being said, treadmill time opens the door for me to catch up on watching shows from the seemingly endless queue of titles that are added more frequently than they are crossed off.

Over the last few weeks, I’ve actually managed to cross two titles off of the list, them being Marvel’s season 2 of Loki, and the presumably standalone season of Echo.  In the past, I used to rush Marvel properties to the top of the list and watch them as soon as humanly possible, because the internet and social media are terrible things that have a tendency to spoil things.  But over the last few years, life, time, apathy, the algorithm, and a ridiculous oversaturation of content has shied me away from keeping up with the Marvels, and they’ve just instead sat in the queue to when I had the time, and shits to bring myself to start watching them again.

It’s actually kind of interesting to watch certain shows once a significant passage of time has occurred, because a lot of things can happen in the course of a year or two.  Like watching Loki S2, where Jonathan Majors’ Kang is so very much a major player in not just this show, but at the time, the future of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, it was almost a shame to watch a show filmed at a time when he was still this guy knocking on the door of cinematic stardom, because I think he really is a talented performer, not just as Kang, but I also enjoyed him tremendously in Lovecraft Country, and now in spite of his role in the MCU, is basically for all intents and purposes, cancelled.

Echo, was short and sweet, being just five episodes, but again, when the show dropped, there was no news that the, for lack of a better term, the Daredevil/Kingpin universe was going to be reset, although I suspect that such was probably brewing in the background considering the direction they went with the Kingpin himself.  I did appreciate that Charlie Cox had a part in Echo, naturally doing one of his ridiculous one-take extended fight scenes, and good on Alaqua Cox for having the skill and stamina to keep up with it.  But again, it was another show watched long after its drop date, and a lot of things in the background have changed, and kind of alters the perspective on the show as a whole.

Staying on Echo though, I have to say that of many of the Marvel television shows, I would put Echo up among the top of the rankings when it comes to music selection.  All throughout the MCU television universe, there have been some real banger soundtracks, and Echo’s is right up near the top as far as my auditory preferences are, along with Luke Cage and Punisher.  The song, Burning by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs was one that I liked tremendously, and I rarely skipped the opening credits

Here’s the thing though, among the changes that have occurred within Marvel itself, are the changes to the world as a whole that really make watching “older” things like Loki and Echo and presumably any other Marvel property that lets 2-3 months surpass kind of are, and yes unfortunately I am referring to things that are occurring on account of the shitty political wasteland ‘Merica continues to slide down, mainly the unfortunate mass abolishment of DEI policies.

There’s no sugarcoating it; Marvel has been doing a pretty good job of organically adhering to the inclusion of diversity throughout the years.  Loki excels at having a diverse cast, and I was tickled to see Ke Huy Quan show up as a key character in S2, and I love how Data is becoming a commodity in Hollywood in general.  Echo was basically a DEI jackpot, with the titular character Maya Lopez, being of indigenous descent, who also happens to be hearing impaired, and oh yeah has a prosthetic leg.

It was still a great show that definitely highlights indigenous culture, but I can’t help but wonder if shows like this will actually see the light of day in the rapidly devolving ‘Merican ecosystem, and if Disney themselves will fall into the ranks of other notable companies, and eventually scrap their DEI initiatives, and gradually we the viewers start to see less and less diversity in future projects.

All the same, maybe I’m just thinking too much about it, or perhaps the state of the world is permeating into my headspace, no matter how much conscious effort I put into avoiding the news.  Both of these shows were still enjoyable, and at least while they were produced prior to the last election, I can still look forward to Agatha All Along and any other rando series and films that I might’ve missed before I eventually expend the effort to catch the new Captain America flick.

Dad Brog (#143): the surprisingly emotional aftermath

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

It’s not that I’ve gone around and had lengthy conversations about vasectomies leading into my own, but I still feel like there were a few things nobody talks about whenever the subject emerges.  I knew that the type of procedure I was going to have wasn’t going to be bad and in fact was probably one of the more efficient and painless ones, but I’m also someone who hasn’t ever had a surgery of any kind before in my life, so the feeling of being in a medical place for myself and laying back on a table for something done to me was completely foreign.

Not that I didn’t see this one coming, but it’s still very awkward to have people touching and handling your privates, and I found myself staring intently at the tiles on the ceiling and inadvertently holding my breath and feeling my legs go tense from time to time.  Felt like at times my junk were treated like Chinese stress balls the way they were being rolled around, and I get they’re feeling for any things out of the ordinary but was still a completely harrowing feeling all the same.

One thing that nobody that I’ve seen has talked about is the smell; and not from the standpoint that of being downstairs, the first bullet point on my pre-op instructions was to shower and shave fairly close to go-time, but the smell of things that are burned by the laser that my particular clinic was using.  I wasn’t entirely sure if it were errant hair or flesh or blood vessels, I didn’t look down at the procedure the entire time, but despite the fact that the local was doing a good job of nullifying feeling anything other than movement and the pressure of contact, it clearly doesn’t cancel out the scent of burning that emanated from the point of surgery.

However, what it all culminates in, and what serves as the impetus for this post was the surprising wave of emotions that seemed to bubble up after I was done with the procedure, which all in all wasn’t really painful as much as it was just awkward and comfortable as much as your junk being handled for 25 minutes could be.  But when I was done, walked out the door and into the car, I just felt almost like crying.  Don’t really know why, this was all part of the plan and I certainly don’t want to go through the rigors of having another baby, but all the same, this involuntary and reflexive wave of sadness just kind of washed up and I felt pretty sad.

I know I can be a headcase about things, but I feel like I’m kind of on my own here, at least as far as people I know who have also had vasectomies.  I asked a few of my friends if they felt sad afterward, and the consensus is pretty much no, so maybe it is just a me thing, but I’d wager that there are plenty of men out there who can relate, but then against we have people who lose their shit over the opening sequence of Up, and many who don’t too.

If I had to guess, it probably has to do with the sheer finality of the whole thing.  Sure, vasectomies are technically reversible, but it’s one of those things that just because they are doesn’t mean anyone wants to go through with it, and I’m at peace knowing I won’t father any more kids, but it’s just the fact that it’s a decision sealed with a laser that makes it feels a little heavy handed.  For all intents and purposes, this was done to be a permanent measure, and there’s something about said permanence that seems to trigger emotion within me.

Otherwise, what a day it’s been afterward.  Got to go to Willy’s and get some nachos, even if they were prepared horribly by some white guy that looked like Bill Burr, chilled at home while waiting to see if I would have any pain that wasn’t already there from going to the gym for the first time in a month, as my office was shut down due to malfunctioning elevators.  I took a nap for the first time in like forever, and woke up to discover that there was some pretty substantial leadership transitions going on at my company, and that another elevator malfunctioned and we might be back to another shutdown.

But the easy joke is that with me getting to rest, nap and eat rich food brought to me, is that I should have more vasectomies in the future to have these baller kinds of days, but at the same time, I don’t like feeling sad, so it’s really one of those weighing the pros and cons things, and that nothing in my life can happen without there being a correlating reaction somewhere else.

All the same, so ends my lineage as far as I’m concerned, it’ll be up to my kids and my sister’s kids in the future if there’s any hope for my family’s genetics to continue on.

How does this manage to continue to happen?

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

SI: New York Jets WR Malachi Corley drops ball before crossing into the end zone, negating touchdown into turnover

I don’t care enough to verify the details, but I’m fairly positive that between the NFL and CFB, this exact scenario has happened at least once every single year for like, the last decade or more, where a player with a guaranteed touchdown, boneheadedly drops the ball before crossing the plane of the endzone, negating six points and instead turning the ball over.

It never fails to astound, or fire me up whenever I hear about these instances, because I guess it pushes past my already extremely low standards as far as the intelligence of people are concerned, and I just can’t believe that there are people this dumb, that repeatedly keep squandering their privilege to be playing kids games at the highest levels and getting paid egregious amounts of money to do so.

It’s never not mindblowing to me, because throughout the history of the sport, all offensive skill players have always been like, GIMME THE BALL, but all of these clowns who have dropped the ball at the one-yard line couldn’t be in any more rush to get rid of the ball in their hands, to the point where they’re making these dumbass drops.

I just think about how in Forrest Gump, when Forrest was returning kicks for Alabama, his first TD return, he just kept running past the end zone, smashing into the band en route into the locker room tunnel.  A little overkill, but a definite example of protecting the ball and securing the score. 

Whenever a highlight of dropping the ball at the 1 occurs, I always wonder why players insist on being closer to DeSean Jackson instead of being closer to Forrest Gump.

There’s really not much more to add to this, aside from the continued disbelief that this somehow manages to happen at the frequency in which it does.  And while writing about it, YouTube delivers, as there’s actually a pretty interesting video that has chronicled this baffling phenomenon, and there’s a frighteningly more number of instances that have occurred than I was aware of, which doesn’t help the narrative of how bullshit stupid it is.

I’m so envious of Earth-1610 Aunt May’s Spider Cave

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

In my most recent episode of I don’t have any fucking space for myself, I began to fantasize about how great it would be if I could just have a underground bunker like Spider-Man (E-1610) had in the backyard of Aunt May’s house, perfectly hidden by a nondescript and dilapidated looking toolshed, as shown in Into the Spider-Verse (amazing film, btw).

And not just because it was full of all sorts of shit that’s right up my alley, like the gym full of free weights, the spacious computer area, as well as a generous amount of space allocated to workshopping, but just because of the sheer space that existed, available to use.

I have no personal space of my own.  Like literally, I don’t have any designated space that is mine and mine alone, and my blets are in storage, all my personal effects are in storage, and I have like a shelf, a desk, and a Ron Swanson poster in the corner of my master bedroom that’s the closest thing I have to personal space, and that’s when mythical wife isn’t taking a nap.

The rest of my house is absolutely overflowing to the gills full of kids things, and every now and then when my mind can grasp how ridiculously full my home is, I feel despair and hopelessness about how things will never improve.  When I bought my home, it was two adults in a four-bedroom home where one bedroom hardly saw any use, one was a guest room, and I had a room designated to be my office where I could store and display all of my personal effects.

Now it’s three adults, two kids, no spare bedrooms, no office, and me having angst about having no personal space, whenever I have the time to have angst, and writing about how I fantasize about a fictional underground bunker that ignores the existence of infrastructure, code and architectural integrity which is the least unbelievable thing about this specific world which has teenagers flinging themselves all around New York on spider webs, and travel between alternate realities.

But yeah back to the point, I’m so envious of the Spider Cave underneath Aunt May’s house, and if I had something remotely close to having an underground bunker of my own, without any hesitation, it would be the go-to place to store all the shit that’s taking up space in the house proper, and maybe allocating half of it to becoming my personal private office space.  Because don’t I deserve a place to get some peace and quiet too??

I would take all of the holiday shit in the attic and it’s going into the Spider Cave.  All of mythical wife’s teacher shit that sits in a number of crates in the garage; all that shit’s going into the Spider Cave.  The large tubs that are accumulating with kids clothes, artwork and toys that they don’t play with – Spider Cave.  Tubs of DVDs and BluRay discs?  Spider Cave.  The lawnmower I haven’t used in three years?  Spider Cave.

The irony is that all this offloading into a Spider Cave wouldn’t actually free up enough space within my house proper to where I could actually have some private space again.  Objectively speaking, the more efficient thing would be to leave everything where it is, and use the Spider Cave solely for my own personal space and use, since it would hypothetically fulfill my desire to have even just a little bit of space for myself.

But the knee-jerk reaction to a fantasy fulfilled of having a Spider Cave was churning reallocation of crap from one place into another place, where it could be better out of sight and out of mind.

All the same though, having a magical bonus 250-350 sq ft. of usable space really is a fucking fantasy.  And it would be truly incredible to have my very own Spider Cave; I don’t even need or want any of the Spider Tech, because I don’t want to have the great responsibilities that would come with inheriting such great powers, I just want a place where I can hang my blets, display all of the crap that I’ve accumulated that’s worth displaying, and having a space to myself that’s just, me.

When I felt like I did something good

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

On our last morning at Disney, we had breakfast at The Contemporary, at Chef Mickey’s.  Mythical wife and I agree that character meals are often great indulgences to partake in, especially with the kids, because it guarantees meeting a number of characters, without having to wait in gigantic lines, all while you get to relax inside an air conditioned place, eat and not be on your feet.

Anyway, I excuse myself to go to the restroom; and the first thing I do when I go into any public bathroom stall, is check the toilet paper.  The last thing any man wants to happen is to do your business, only to shortly discover that there’s no toilet paper or an inadequate amount of toilet paper left.  And it was good that I did this, because the first stall I went into, there was nothing but the roll of cardboard left on the roll.  Poor form for Disney, because usually they’re on top of this kind of thing.

So I go into the adjacent stall, find sufficient TP left, and proceed to do my business.  While I’m sitting there, I hear the door to the restroom open, and I hear the labored breathing.  In an instant, my mind is racing, wondering if this guy is going to go into the stall next to me, and if he does, should I say something to warn him about the conundrum he’s inevitably going to have, but before I could do any more thinking, the guy is already in the stall, breathing like he was just in a race, belt buckle clanging on the ground and he’s sitting and destroying the planet in the blink of an eye.

Seriously, I’m picturing that scene in Dumb and Dumber when Harry has to crap like the apocalypse because Lloyd spiked his coffee with TurboLax hearing what is transpiring in the stall next to mine, and unsurprising I hear an exasperated “ahh shit” come from him, knowing that he’s probably just noticed that there’s no TP on the roll.

At this point, there’s a part of me that’s wondering if I should just stick to men’s room etiquette and keep my mouth shut and mind my own business, but at the same time, I am very much aware that there’s an emergency about to happen right next to me, divided only by an inch-thick metal wall.

There was a time in my life where I would just go the aforementioned route of feigning ambivalence and washing my hands of the situation, and leave the guy to fend for himself, but especially on a trip like this one, at Disney World, it occurred to me that there was a very high chance that this guy was like me, in the sense that he too was a dad, probably had dealt with a metric ton of bullshit, babysitting, kid-chasing and exasperation, and the absolute last thing he needed in the world was to be put in a scenario where he’d have to bare-ass it out of the stall and try to wash his asshole in a public sink and hope nobody comes in and sees it.

So after I was done with my business, I gently extended my roll of paper down low to beneath the bottom opening, and softly said, hey man I think you’re going to need this.  He quickly grabbed the TP and was just like uhhh thanks, and I was off on my merry way back to my family.  Although the interaction was short and very few words were spoken, I felt like I really did a very good deed, and I like to think that this guy knew how lucky he was to have been next to me, and didn’t have to think too hard on whether he should swallow his pride and ask or risk a worst of humanity situation.

I didn’t have to do what I did.  I could’ve just feigned ignorance and left Harry to fend for himself.  But from one dad to what I’m guessing was probably another dad, we endure a lot on these Disney trips, a bathroom meltdown shouldn’t be one of them.  I’m glad I did what I did, and I think I did a really good deed and I applaud myself for it.

VT-MIA: Not sure what’s bigger bullshit

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

The ending, in which a game-winning Virginia Tech Hail Mary pass that was originally ruled a completion and a touchdown that was overruled by pretty inconclusive video evidence to protect Miami and their top-10 ranking, or learning about the existence of Miami tight-end Cam McCormick who is a 26-year old NINTH-YEAR senior.

Obviously, I can handle an L, as asinine and bullshit as it might be; Virginia Tech isn’t expected to be a contender again any time soon, so I’ve always got this mindset that any victories are pleasant surprises, but for the most part if the opponent is remotely recognizable in name, they’re probably going to beat the Hokies for the next few years, Miami included.

But learning about Cam McCormick, that’s definitely something worth spouting some words on.  Mostly, along the lines of, how is this fucking legal, that a guy can just keep coming back to college year after year after year, and competing against kids typically between the ages of 17-22 traditionally.  Sure, there may be an occasional fifth year guy on account of a red-shirting here and there, but Cam McCormick is 26 fucking years old.

I was five years into my first mortgage, and stressing out about my career and paying bills at the age of 26; Cam McCormick is probably still shotgunning beers and trying to pick up barely legal freshmen at frat parties at the U, and showing up to games and practice and feeling proud of himself for trucking kids 5-8 years younger than him.  Sure, he’s probably already making more money than I’ll ever see in my life through NILs, but there’s just something fucked up and weird about a guy that’s been “in college” for nine years, presumably still chipping away at a bachelor’s degree he’ll never actually use any of his bullshit credits from, that is if he’s even required to go to class at all being a meathead.

Seriously, look at the picture.  McCormick is a grown-ass man playing against a bunch of kids.  It’s like Danny Almonte pretending to be 11-years old when he was actually a 14-year old flame thrower, except all the cards are on the table with McCormick and everyone knows he’s a bullshit ninth-year senior.  You can’t even call him a senior at this point, he’s like geriatric grade level.

And it’s bullshit that this is allowed.  What’s going to stop a program from recruiting or transfer-portal’ing a squad of 7th-9th year seniors and fielding a roster full of grown-ass men, who are all hardened and crusty from being 24+ in age, already divorced, and having notes to leave practice early so they can pick up their kids from daycare before they get charged by the minute if they’re late.  But when they take the field, they’re a squad of physically mature beasts who have been around the block a few times, and ready to stomp holes into the opponent who has an 18-year old kid at QB protected by an O-line that’s an average age of 20.5.

McCormick needs to fucking end this live-rendition of Van Wilder and get the fuck out of the game already, because it’s embarrassing and bullshit that a dumb jock is allowed to keep staying in school to play football when he’s closer to AARP eligibility than NCAA.