The Tupelo Ricin Case: No Country for The Big Simple Plan

I'll admit. I have a morbid fascination about this whole Tupelo ricin case (up front: thankfully nobody got hurt, and the whole thing is more bizarre than scary, really) for no other reason than I used to live in that neck of the woods. And have an infrequently updated blog (but that's where any similarities end!) It's a story that would be bizarre and unbelievable it hadn't occurred in what I consider to be the weirdest part of an already puzzling state. The only way this would make sense is to have the Cohen Brothers turn it into a movie. They've already dealt with bumbling criminals in most of their films, and have some cache in Mississippi from filming O Brother, Where art Thou? there. Apparently the line from "scary" to "funny" has already been passed.

Let's start with the magic carpet opening of The Big Lebowski, but with this song (and thrilling Tupelo fly-over. Downtown! The mall! The Tire plant! A furniture factory!)

 Like any Coen Brothers work, it's strength is in the cast of characters:
First, we have Paul Kevin Curtis, the Elvis-impersonating, organ-harvest whistle blowing protagonist
 The wrong guy:
Who is a simple man with a rap sheet (he's been in jail 20 times?!)

... a rap sheet and musical aspirations. A man of constant sorrow, if you will. 

Who  has stumbled into a larger conspiracy than he knows
But it quickly becomes clear that he's hardly the mastermind he's accused of being
After his house gets ransacked

But his friends (in his case: brother and lawyer) help him out-The following will make more sense if you watch that press conference.

So now the law enforcement types

(FBI Director Robert Muller)










(Lee County Sheriff Jim Johnson)









(...Marge Gunderson's equally hilariously-accented Mississippi counterpart?)

 "Stay out of Tupelo, deadbeat!"










They have to go after the real mastermind. The one who set this all up.

Clearly, an unstoppable, cold-blooded madman.

   

Just kidding. Would you settle for a failed insurance salesman turned failed political player

Who also owns a karate studio, and is (oh my) an alleged sex offender

Who has dabbled in what sounds like horrible electronic-based music

Someone who really screwed up their whole plan

Because it was dependent on idiots

(Yes, he's the mastermind and henchmen. No, it doesn't make perfect sense.)







To punish (mainly) some local politicians because he held a grudge against their son (also pictured!).

(apologies to Judge Holland for the unflattering character, but Pappy is the only character that works here)



I'm speaking, of course, about James Everett Dutschke.
Wait, his middle name is Everett? And that's what he goes by? REALLY? This isn't even fun anymore.

(fun fact, much like Ulysses Everett McGill, Dutschke will spend time in Parchman, too!)



Plus, the Coen Brothers re-telling of this sordid affair would give us a re-make of this scene


but with "Suspicious Minds" as the music, and a Karate/Elvis/Wayne Newton/Karate Elvis theme! Maybe even a shot elephant cameo.
It works on so many levels.
This thing has practically written itself. I'm already writing my acceptance speech, and waiting for a call from Joel and/or Ethan.
So, forget about giving money to Zach Braff's Kickstarter fund for Garden State II: Two Many Feelings! and pony up for this can't miss hit. 

Nearly three years

Almost three years have gone by since I updated this thing. That ought to have shaken the bandwagon jumpers and stalkers off of my exploits. To say nothing of the poor, dead, neglected links. A whole new Blogger format? Yikes. Something that has to get the axe, my old blog description: "the ill-conceived, poorly-written and seldom-updated inadvertanly pretentious ramblings of another opinionated guy with a keyboard and some spare time, standing where irony and hypocrisy intersect without any notable relevance or real purpose, with a tendency to bitch about sports. Flying well below anyone's interest radar for over a year now. You still here?" is gone. It's beyond douchey, and is only preserved in this post for purely archival purposes. I think the new one has a certain brusque snap to it. The first post below this posts to newspaper stories that have long since been archived. A ton of real-life stuff has gone on since then. I got a job. Then I left the job, moved and went back to grad school. Then I got married and bought a house, and found myself out of grad school. On a positive note, for the first time I'm living in a house with a basement, which if hackneyed stereotypes hold true, I must blog and anonymously comment from exclusively. I also got a decent paying, if somewhat demanding job, then for the first time in my life I actually got fired. Right before Christmas. So yes, the guy whose blog has always been titled "overeducated slacker" is unemployed. How droll. While going over some of my career "highlights" a friend noticed that I should write some of this stuff down, because it seemed hilarious. Fair warning: this friend also still cracks up at a good fart joke. So, in the interest of keeping my own sanity I'm going to go through my career history in the most entertaining way possible. There will be no names or locations used (which will closely mirror my no readers), just in case anybody stumbles on this anonymous, sloppily written screed in the future, I don't derail my employment opportunities. Besides, getting canned by a scandalous blog is sooooo 2006. I think the cool kids are getting the axe for Tweeting these days.

If schadenfreude was fattening

then this article would be a bacon-stuffed pork chop coated with potato chips and deep fried. We'll see if the whole mess gets covered in gravy tomorrow night.

Scene: Miami, Florida, athletic offices at Florida International University

Thomas: Wow, it's great to be back in the business. Let's get this show on the road!
Random FIU HR rep: Welcome aboard, Mr. Thomas. We've started most of your paperwork already, just a few more minor details to tend to. Here, this is a standard university sexual harassment test just to... (looks around), just kind of a CYA thing new hires have to do. Just get 70% right, and we can get on with things.

(Four hours and ten attempts later)

Head of FIU HR: NO, you STILL can't refer to female employees as "BITCH"
Thomas: Well, of course YOU can't, Poindexter McWhitebread. It's not an insult when I say it
Head of FIU HR: It's still an insult no matter who says it. And you filled in the blank on this question with the word "sunt"...what does that even mean?
(Random HR rep leans over and whispers in his bosses ear, who then turns pale and inconspicuously logs in to Monster.com on mobile phone)
Thomas: So when do I start? Can I meet that Ned fella? A proud Normandy vet like that should have a higher profile around here. And where's Schnellenberger's office?
Random HR rep: (sigh). That was a Farked picture from a regrettable incident. And coach Schnellenberger is at Florida Atlantic.
Thomas: Whoa, if I can't refer to bitches as bitches, why does he get to throw the F word out like that.
(University Attorney and Athletic Director enter the room. Thick file containing papers about prior lawsuits falls out of breifcase onto table)
University Attorney: Oh, crap. (scrambles for papers)...Uh, hey guys. Just got your message. What's up?
Athletic Director: We think any concerns about "character" are purely...(notes contents of files for first time) When exactly did this happen...well, I'm sure that, when explained fully...over time...I just (cough).
Head of FIU HR: I'm outta here. You deal with this blatant publicity stunt on your own.
Thomas: Yeah, there you go, you'll be throwing that word out there like Coach Knight used to in no time.
Athletic Director: Well, Mr. Thomas, apparently there's no way in hell we can actually pay you to coach...this year. So we've come up with another idea. Oh, and there's a Chris Mc..something-or-other from ESPN lined up for an interview already. Make us proud, coach!

Inexcusable

I can't believe we lost to this jackass. At home. Inexcusable. And this was sent to the students before the game:

I know this is HUGE game, especially in light of events of the past month and a half regarding Ole Miss's Coach Kennedy. I know many of you who will be attending the game have elaborate signs planned for Coach Kennedy and possibly even his family. The SEC has requested that no signs defaming Coach Kennedy or his family be allowed. The MSU athletic department will support the SEC's request.
... Let Saturday show that class. No one is saying not to bring signs or get crazy. That is what the HUMP is all about, but leave the Kennedy's out of it.

The arrests and lawsuits are public record, you couldn't possibly MAKE anything up that could be worse. What a bunch of sniveling wimps. Classiest losers in the league.

R.I.P. Super Bowl Ads

(1984-2009. Survivors include viral online ads, appeal of Mad Men.) It appears that the once fertile ground of creative, expensive, entertaining Super Bowl ads is a thing of the past. I remember back in High School, Channel 1 previewed the ads for us lucky kids. Turns out it was just Pepsi trying way too hard to convince us they were cool (some things never change). You wouldn't think Americans would need snappy reminders to buy as much watery domestic pilsner as they can stomach, but ad history says otherwise. You know things are bad when the star of the evening is a spot for a scammy gold-exchange service whose normal ads pollute my DirecTV with a production value somewhere between "standard infomercial" and "public access". I also enjoyed the slapped Koala, and I'm not entirely sure why, even though all that ad did was start up a conversation on how horrible job search sites are for actually finding jobs. Hopefully this will mean no more instances of being shushed during the commercials (yes, this actually happened at a party once. Emphasis on once).

My Haloween Adventures

So, instead of waiting around for my neighborhoods inexplicable non-existent trick-or-treaters (except for the kids from across the street), I headed down to Nashvegas for what was surely to be an epic concert featuring two indie rock (I suppose) heavyweights. Observe, and be amazed!




But what do I find once I get there, but a half-empty Ryman Auditorium and a crowd that asks "so who you here for" and looks at you like you're crazy when you answer "well, both are awesome, and I'd pay to see either band, really, but I've seen Drive-By Truckers play when I was in college, so I guess The Hold Steady." Fortunately, the sparse crowd didn't seem to affect either band from kicking ass. And The Hold Steady was in the holiday spirit.

(thank you Flickr and people with better seats than me, I'll never bother taking a camera to a concert ever again!)
So basically, I'm left thinking: what the hell, "Music City"?

My day just got a hell of a lot more interesting.

This morning, a jammed printer was the worst part of my day. No more.
Shots Reportedly Fired on WKU's Campus
this sounds way scarier:
Report: armed men on WKU campus
Basically I'm locked in my building, waiting for the all-clear. But there are still people walking around outside and cars driving down the street like any other day. Which is weird considering now every school in town is locked down, too.
3 pm. update. It's all over.
Hello, CNN! Shots Reportedly Fired On WKU Campus.
Man injured in fight after report of shots fired.
Well, back to work.