Scrubs: The New Class

The transformation is almost complete. John Dorian has become Eric Forman. The Janitor has become Richie Cunningham, Elliot Reid is the new Zach Morris, and Bob Kelso has become...well, Kelso.

You can track down a plethora of names from past TV characters who left their arena before the show crashed and burned without them. Happy Days had Fonzi but they lost Richie. That 70's Show had Fez, but lost Kelso and Forman. Scrubs has Turk and Dr. Cox, but no longer has JD, Janitor and Elliot. Welcome to Scrubs Version 2.0, the hospital version of Saved By The Bell: The New Class. Or, you can just call it the new ER. Just like when George Clooney and the other original stars of ER left for superstardom, Scrubs is hoping to retool its character base and plot heading into its ninth season.

Gone is Sacred Heart. It's been replaced by a slick, modern hospital, which is a stark contrast to the haunting halls of the SH. Gone is Kelso. The new leadership team of Dr. Cox and Turk are in charge. Gone are JD and Elliot, although at least Zach Braff is guaranteed to appear in six episodes. And, finally, gone is the Janitor. He, or Neil Flynn, has his own sitcom now, but he stated last week that he hopes to make one more appearance on the show.

Jan-i-tor summed it up best at the press junket for his new vehicle, The Middle. "We were done," he noted. "The show ended and we were free to go and find other employment, but then it started up again. I'm done with Scrubs, but I'll probably show up one more time." Asked what happened to the Janitor, Flynn quipped he's "moved to Indiana and has 3 nice children," a reference to his new pilot. I am proud to call Janitor a fellow Hoosier patriot.

Nevertheless, although some things change, others remain distinctly the same. The title won't change, the humor style remains, and Dr. Cox remains Dr. Cox. Turk, also known as Donald Faison outside of my blog, granted an interview to IGN just two weeks before Scrubs begins shooting the new season. Turk said that he's the new Mr. Belding and Dr. Cox is the new Screech, referring to the show's parallel with Saved By The Bell: The New Class.

Turk cites Fraiser's departure from Cheers to form his own hit show as the dream for the people who stayed on with Scrubs. But, even Turk tried to get his own new show before Scrubs was renewed. Turk and Cedric The Entertainer tried to combine comedic efforts to get a pilot but the show flopped, leaving Turk without a job until Scrubs creater Bill Lawrence came a-callin' with a new offer to be the headliner of Scrubs. For the unemployed Turkleton, it was a no-brainer.

So let the moral dilemma begin. Biblical characters had it easier than this. What am I supposed to do when my all-time favorite show splits in half, moves to a new location, but is still featuring Dr. Cox? Well, let's go through this slowly:

1) This isn't Scrubs. I don't care if they call it the same name or even have the same intro music and video, this is NOT Scrubs. Repeat that after your daily prayer. When a sitcom changes locations, it is no longer that show. That's 70's Show, through all its faults in the last two seasons, at least kept the basement in tact so the show could remain a shell of its former self. But when you change buildings and change charcters, it's not the same show. Only in porn can you change the backdrop of a scene and get the same effect. Unfortunately, Scrubs isn't a porn. Or isn't it?

2) I really thought the show could go on without Zach Braff. Everybody knew he'd be the first to leave at some point so he focus on directing and starring in feature films, but no one knew that if he took half the cast with him, they'd still make the show. No JD or Janitor? No Elliot? Yes, these characters ran their course. There was not much else to explore as we knew JD still struggled to mature even though he fathered a child, while Janitor got married and the relationship between JD and Elliot had climaxed, so it was time to go out in a blaze of glory like the final episode of the eighth season. So, Scrubs isn't Scrubs without them. I'm not sure what else Dr. Cox can even offer. Maybe Turk grows up and adds several dimensions to his "teenage" personality. Maybe he divorces Carla after he sleeps with the entire nursing staff. Maybe he and the Todd start a relationship. I don't know, the ideas are just flowing right now.

3) Speaking of the Todd, will any of the "part-time" players be back? I'm sure if Scrubs is offering a paycheck they will be on there way, but many of them could have found other dutiful employment while Lawrence twidled his thumbs contemplating whether to bring the show back. I can't imagine not seeing Beardface not walking the halls of Sacred Hea...oh year, wrong hospital.

4) I've already decided there will be a distinction in my own head between Scrubs, Seasons 1-8, and Scrubs 9-and-beyond. So will I follow this new incarnation as religiously as the past? Looking at my own viewing habits, the answer is probably not. I've given up on any show that changed characters between seasons with the exception being triumphant show of this decade, aka The Wire. It's a complex of getting too familiar and too fanatical with the original, and not being able to ever accept the second act as better than the first. Let's include my obligatory Beatles reference here. When George helped John record on his album Imagine, even though it was with a different band and different styles of music from the Beatles, it's still compared to the Beatles. Unfortunately, it has no chance of being as good, better or more valuable then anything the Beatles created. I wanted to watch this new Scrubs version with open arms, but I'll always compare it to the original and it will come up short. It's just the way it works. Blame God.

So Scrubs is the 2009 version of 1993's Saved By The Bell: The New Class. As bad as that sounds, it actually is a good omen. The last incarnation of SBTB lasted a hearty seven effin' seasons. Seven! That show stayed on the air from 1993-2000. I swear that I was alive during those years but have no recollection of this event taking place. If you had given me the over/under on how many seasons it had lasted, I would have said "under 1" as I was certain it was canceled halfway through it's initial run. But it demonstrates how much knowledge I have about TV -- zilch. Maybe Scrubs: The New Class goes on to better even the original Scrubs in content and in ratings. But for me, the curtain has closed.

As John Lennon once said, "the dream is over" (I knew I could sneak a second Beatle reference in there).

Another Reason Why Reggie Miller Is Clutch

Miller Time. Knick Killer. Playoff Legend. Indiana Hero. Uncle Reggie. Stalker.

Yes, these are the words that describe Reginald Wayne Miller, the man who saved a struggling franchise in the cornfields of Indiana and the man who brought the team on the doorsteps of a NBA title. Yes, this great man is...wait! What was that last nickname? Stalker? Well unless I see a plane flying through the air and telling me it's true, then I'm not gonna....

...oh, well, that explains a little. Yes, apparently Reggie's game has gotten even more clutch outside of basketball. Instead of getting the calls in late-night games, he's now giving them -- to women whose husbands and fiancés aren't pleased with the situation.

In a restraining order that was never filed, but so surprisingly found its way online, a Malibu surf shop owner and neighbor of Miller's is accusing the former Pacers Superstar for stalking his fiance. In a desperate form of payback, the accuser, Alex von Furstenberg, posted the non-filed restraining order online. That order contained Reggie's address and phone number. But after settling the dispute, other Malibu natives have showed their displeasure by having a plane fly over the Malibu community asking Reggie to "stop pursing married women."

Yes, I have already looked up Reggie's house on Google Street View. Yes, it's a ridiculously awesome mansion with a Pacific Ocean view. Yes, I've added Reggie's phone number to my contact list on my cell phone. No, I have not called it. I'm not a freakin stalker!

What I fail to understand is the big deal here. This surfer dude has some real issues:

1) Reggie only texted the dude's fiance 53 times in one night. That's seven less than Reggie's career-high in points scored in one game. More than likely, these texts contained links to old YouTube footage of Reggie dominating at MSG or at Market Square. If I was Reggie Miller, I would be texting anybody and everybody all of my playoff heroics just to remind them of how much ass I kicked back in the day.

2) This surfer dude needs a chilax pill. He claims that when he approached Reggie about leaving his girl alone, #31 threatened him by saying he had friends with guns. He obviously wasn't referring to real guns. He's referring to old guns on the Davis boys. It's true. Antonio and Dale Davis are still Reggie's full-time bodyguards and they will show their massive guns to anyone wanting to mess with Mr. Clutch. Don't mess with the Davis Boys.

3) Reggie has the best phone number ever. The fact that is his last four digits are "3131" is the best bachelor phone number of all-time. Scenario:
Girl: "So, what's your number Reg?"
#31: "Bitch please! You know number. Watch me walk away!"
And as he walks away he reveals the jersey number stitched into his suit coat with the blue and gold pinstripes and she's been served a notice -- you are messing with greatness.

4) Back to the text messaging thing. You don't text a person 53 times without receiving 53 responses and it's highly unlikely that those responses said, "btw...stp txtn me...im getting hitched." Furstenberg obviously was feeling a little insecure about his girl getting with Uncle Reg and he lashed out like a teenager getting a keg of beer. And when people lash out at Reggie, it always ends with a money shot in somebody's eye, and in this case, it's Ali Kay.

On to the links...

Hello, Mr. Radio
Ms. Ali Kay...enjoy!

It's Beetles...with an A
In my previous blog post, I showed the latest video clip from The Beatles: Rock Band, but when I watched it again I became confused at the beginning. It warns viewers of "mild language" and "tobacco reference" and I'm wondering where that is in the clip. My challenge to my loyal readers is to find either one. If you find it, I'll let you go on me and Bo's road trip to visit Reggie at his Malibu mansion.

Mrs. Thug Mrs.
You finally might get me to watch an episode of America's Next Top Model. Lauren Conrad is set to appear on the next season.

You Tube...no, you're a tube
Nothing like combining my favorite Oasis song with a top-3 Beatles song. Win-win situation.

Twist and Shout...Seriously, Do It

Yes, I'm inherently a lazy person.

But does that give me the right to only update this site once in an entire month? Apparently it does, and it also allows me to make my newest post (this one) just a quick link to a video instead of an analytical essay on why the gecko living in my apartment is so boring that even Ringo finds him sympathetically un-amusing.

Between all of my work that I've accomplished during my two week hiatus from the real world (i.e. watching 24+ hours worth of DVR'd television shows and movies recorded over the course of June and July) I finally stumbled upon something dashingly amazing this morning.

The second trailer for The Beatles: Rock Band was released to the public today and, yet again, I immediately passed out with joy after watching it. Not only does it lead off with a little twist and a little shout, the graphics and sound just gets better and better. I know (and this is official) that I can't afford this game when it releases on the cosmic date of 09.09.09, but it will be the lone gift hand printed on my Christmas List this December. So Santa and his elves better get their asses in gear and make me a good replica of this thing. Until then, I'll just pretend to hold my replica Hofner bass and bump out the bass line to Revolution. And if you think I'm kidding, then you don't know me at all.

Enjoy.

The Wii Remote Can Suck It

I hate the Nintendo Wii. Not the system. That part I love. There's not a day that goes by that I don't thank God for blessing the world with Mario Kart on the Wii. The game was created by divine hands.

No, I hate the Wii...remote controller. It has nothing to do with controls or the wireless function. It has nothing to do with how it's configured to my hand motion. It has nothing to do with gameplay. It has to do with a little something that the Mrs. Thug Mrs. calls "temper-tantrums."

Now I have a long, storied history with video game controllers. Starting with the original NES system, to the Super Nintendo blue and gray controller, to the "M" shaped N64 controller, and all the way to my favorite controller of all-time -- the PS2. All these controllers shared one common bond. I loved to smash them.

There was no better feeling in the world after your QB, who had a 99 passer rating, threw an interception to the worst-ranked defense in Madden 04 and you could raise your right hand high in the air and propel the PS2 remote into the ground like a V-2 rocket slamming London in WWII. It was the perfect way to handle anger management. One flick of the wrist and all your troubles went away as you destroyed the controller on the 2nd floor of 920 Neely. I went through countless PS2 remotes throughout college. I believe the PS2 remote suffered the most damage of all consoles throughout my lifetime of wrath with the N64 a close second. But the see-through PS2 controllers added another dimension as you could literally see the parts that you destroyed so recklessly after your mobster got shot into oblivion and back in the Godfather.

But something in my life is now missing. My anger issues have been transferred to other areas of my life because of one thing: I no longer have a PS2. I have a Wii. Sure, I tried throwing my Wii controller. Not wanting to break my HDTV, I use the dork strap to keep the remote tied to my hand. After losing the longest game ever played in Wii Tennis, I raised my hand toward the sky and slammed the remote toward the ground. It unfortunately was still tied to my hand. The result was a Wii remote to the groin. I missed 6-8 weeks on the injured list.

Now when I'm missing 10 foot putts on Tiger Woods 10 and after I'm done cursing out announcer Scott Van Pelt for his insufferable commentary on my bad putting, I rear up to throw the remote. But I can't do it. My anger gets bottled up inside until the next day when I can yell at first graders all day. But I'm worried. I need to throw a remote. It was part of the aura of playing video games. Now it's lost. I've thought about buying a used PS2 remote just for throwing purposes. The wife, obviously, thinks I belong in a mental institution. Ringo feels the same way. Either way, I need to throw something. So...Ringo, let's see how far you fly.

On to the links...

2 minutes...2-ah
Personal plug: Go visit IndyCornrows for any news on your Indiana Pacers from yours truly. You can also join my cult-like following on Twitter. Also, next week I will have full control of the site so expect some big things as I follow the blue and gold.

Hello, Mr. Radio
And...enjoy.

Mrs. Thug Mrs.
More Jon and Kate news about Jon's "bimbo" girlfriend. Ahh, makes me proud of IU.

Info for Bo
The WWE is teasing the fact that Shaq will wrestle during next week's Monday Night RAW. I'm thinking Shaq vs. Hornswoggle. Of course, if McMahon can get a Kobe vs. Shaq main event, I will piss myself.

I, Me, Mine
This segment is dedicated to the other Sean Stevenson's in the world who somehow land in my news alerts/google search. So, either this person is a female Sean Stevenson, or he's a little fruity, but Inquirer.net, the Philippines news site dedicated to Filipinos, ran a story about using the right foundation for your skin tone. The entire article is a dissertation by Sean Stevenson telling people how to match your skin tone to your foundation. Totally awesome. Anyways, my boy/girl Sean dominates the article with tons of sweet quotes. I feel like there is a whole world of make-up out there for the Sean Stevenson's of the Earth. I've really missed the boat. So Sean, thank you for bringing celebrity and greatness to our name.

It's Beetles...with an A
Paul McCartney played on the Letterman Show last week and it was a great appearance. If I wasn't ready to eat, I would find the links but alas that will not happen. The more important Beatle news today was the announcement of 15 more songs for the Beatles: Rock Band video game. One of those songs will interest the readers of this blog. Yes, one of the first songs that you'll encounter in the game is Twist and Shout. It will set during the Beatles stay at the Cavern Club in Liverpool. I would argue that a cheat code should be made where the Beatles play it at the Chug in Muncie.

You Tube...no, you're a tube
P Money in all his glory at the ESPY's this weekend. Best. QB. Ever.

Blogging My Brains Out

If you follow me on Facebook, follow me on Twitter or follow me by peeping into my windows, you've probably noticed my recent transition in the blogosphere.

About a month ago, I joined a site called Examiner.com as the Indiana Pacers beat writer in an attempt to hone my column writing skills in a very laxed, nothing-to-lose setting while also making pennies on the side. I was having fun doing it, but I wasn't getting the kind of traffic that I wanted and I also thought the site's format and structure was set in 1909. The day that Scheid the Glide, the Photog and I got together in Columbus for some drinking, I told them about the site that I really wanted to write for -- Indy Cornrows. It's the best Pacers blog out there, and I was hoping that my columns would get noticed enough during the Summer and Fall that I could begin writing periodically for IC during the 2009-10 season. Just like certain other areas of my life that I don't like to discuss, things went off quicker than I expected.

The next day after I saw the two Whodi's, I was contacted by Tom, the guy who started Indy Cornrows back in 2006. [Brief background] A few months after starting the site, he joined the SB Nation blogging community and IC has been the staple and home for Pacers blogging ever since. Tom works with Pacers.com to provide stories, he gets media credentials to any game or event, he appears reguarly on Indy Radio shows and he works in cooperation with Yahoo! Sports.

Tom offered me co-control of the Cornrows, making me the first person to have the honor. I was thrilled and I dumped Examiner quicker than God dumped celebrities this week. My average daily hits on Examiner topped out at about 300 per day. IC has an average of 3,000 per day. After Thursday's draft where the Pacers made some noise by drafting Tyler Hansbrough 52 picks too soon, IC had 11,000 hits in two days. I plan on doing a weekly column on IC (which should get rough during July and August), while also helping out with the news as much as possible. I'm hoping to also get some press credentials to a couple of games during the season. Things really took off yesterday morning with my reaction column to Hansbrough. It has been plastered all over the Internet with a lot of support, while some people think I'm the worst thing since unsliced bread. Either way, when a site dedicated to paintball in South Africa links to your story, you know things are going well.

Point is...if you haven't checked out the IC yet, take a peak at it here. If the Pacers aren't your cup of rum, then check out the entire SB Nation and join your favorite team.

On to the links...

It's Beetles...with an A
With Michael Jackson's death, people in BeatleNation honored him a split second before spitting on his fresh grave by wondering who gets the rights to the Beatles songs. In one of the best business decisions ever, Jackson outbid Paul and Yoko in 1985 to buy the rights to the Beatles catalog and he's been living off of them ever since. Unfortunately, he wasn't the majority holder anymore because he needed to them to help pay all those debts for molesting boys, so Paul and Co. won't get much of a chance to own his songs. It would actually be more plausible to see Jackson returning as a zombie.

Hello, Mr. Radio
Don't have a name for this one, but I don't think it matters. Enjoy!

My Sox Are White
So...no more bragging about how awesome I am at fantasy baseball. Talk about all-time backfires. Although I'm poised to seal a win this week over the Err Dizz, I lost two weeks in a row to the two best teams in the league after my last post. Awful. My pitching went down the shitter, two of my best arms went on the DL, and my bats were dead in a cave somewhere. Hopefully, this week's resurgence is a sign of things to come, but I'm not guaranteeing anything anymore. Consider that lesson learned.

Mrs. Thug Mrs.
Lauren and Spencer are reaching out to Stephanie about her eating problem. Lauren also says that she's going to skip Kristin's premiere on the Hills.

Info for Bo
Here's a link to your blog. Apparently, you've forgotten that it exists.

You Tube...no, you're a tube
Best wedding invitation ever.

You Tube...Office-style

Had these two videos e-mailed to me today and I had to immediately share them. They combine the greatness of The Lonely Island songs with video from The Office. Nothing says Michael Scott like "I'm a Boss" and a hearty rendetion of "I'm on a Boat" to get you through your work day (which I don't have, but it doesn't mean I can't share with others).

Note: There is no "bleeping" going on with these versions, so if you aren't mentally, physically, emotionally and drastically prepared to hear the lyrics "Eat some chicken strips (like a boss), Chop my balls off (like a boss)" etc., then you should skip this post. For those of you who haven't chopped off your balls...enjoy.



And for the second one...

Link me...

Apparently because I've been expending so much energy on my Pacers blog, I have neglected my faithful, loyal and CatDog-like followers of this blog. So I'm going to keep the blabbing to a minimum as I focus on the lives of my readers in a "links-only" column. Enjoy...

Info for Bo
Batista. Oh how I knew thee. Poor guy. First he gets his arm torn from his body, then he's expected to wrestle in a cage match where he wins the title belt before getting his ass handed to him on a platter the next night by Randy Orton and his cronies. Then he has to act like a five-year-old girl as he's carried out on a stretcher while he cringes excessively while pleading to the medics to make the belt "not too tight" as he's carried into the ambulance. Awful. Pitiful. Sickly. Disgusting. Pick whichever adjective fits yer mood. Now, he's out for the next four months recovering. Not only that, but reports are surfacing that his contract is up in one year, but the four months that he misses will be tacked on to the end of the contract to make up for lost time. Not the best weekend for the legend Batista. In other news, Mr. Kennedy STILL released by the WWE.

My Sox are White
This Drunken Chuggers fantasy baseball league is going to be the end of me. The parity in the league is sickening. Here I am, the toast of the town, the hot dog, the big cheese, the "so black he's purple" professional athlete and yet, I'm still tied for first place. After rolling off to a thundering 8-1 season record, I am still tied with Team Sobucki for first place, while Team Deeb sniffs my ass with a 6-2-1 spot. After that, there's no one above .500. Awful. Pitiful. Sickly. Disgusting. Pick whichever adjective fits yer mood. Hell, pick em all. After I dispose of Team Maloney this week, next week's grandiose battle between the titans of Team Sobucki and Team Stevenson will be the main event. I've heard rumblings that the Commish is working out television rights to Versus. Right now, Sobucki has the upper hand as he is the only other team to beat me. What's he doing with his lower hand? More beating.

Hello, Mr. Radio
See video below for reason of photo. Enjoy.

Mrs. Thug Mrs.
So the wife has decided that she wasn't getting enough airtime in my blog, so she pulled a Yoko and broke up the band. Now she's gone solo. Visit her musings on education, money and life with the greatest man on Earth here. And yes, I was referring to the Err Dizz.

It's Beetles...with an A
The first reports out of England surfaced today that the two Beatles' box sets being released on Sept. 9 will cost more than a combined $600. For those of you counting at home, that's now more than $900 that I will need to spend that day to own the following: The Beatles: Rock Band video game, the complete stereo remasters and the complete mono remasters. Who's up for selling plasma again?

I Me Mine
This segment is dedicated to the other Sean Stevenson's in the world who somehow land in my news alerts/google search. Unfortunately, due to my recent celebrity as a Pacer bloggin' machine, the first four news alerts of "Sean Stevenson" are actually me. In fact, the fourth one is Cleveland.com referencing one of the articles I wrote. Excuse me as I celebrate like God after He sank the game winning 3-pointer against the Bulls in 1998.

But thank the maker for the Ogemaw County Herald. This award-winning newspaper's Web site goes in-and-out (and that's what she said), but a brief snippet of news shows a certain Sean Stevenson placing 15th in the discus by throwing it 108-9.9 feet at the Michigan Interscholastic Track Coaches Association team track finals. So Sean, thank you for bringing celebrity and greatness to our name.

You Tube...no, you're a tube
This is for everyone who only has dreams of a Saved by the Bell Reunion. I know I'm not alone in this and I'm glad to see that Zack Morris is true to the cell phone...

The Beatles + Video Game = I win!

I knew I needed to post something today, but I had no clue what to write about. I had topics that ranged from "Happy June", the fact that I'm broke and unemployed, the nice weather, how I felt ridiculously old watching the MTV Movie Awards last night, or a heartfelt goodbye to LC's last episode on the Hills.

Then I was saved. Can I get an Amen?

Hell, we are all saved by what happened this afternoon. The E3 Expo is this weekend, which is something I haven't been excited about since Madden announced it was adding a franchise mode that effectively changed the course of my life forever. This year, however, came a big announcement. I haven't played my Wii in forever, but this game got me excited about playing video games again.

My current status with video games is very murky. I've reached the stage where I don't know if I feel comfortable wasting an entire day by playing a season of Madden. Here I am at 25 years of age. That's got to be about the point where you go past the personal video game stage and enter the family fun entertainment stage. My switch from an Xbox 360 to a Nintendo Wii last year helped accelerate this process as I can no longer play EA Sports games (if you haven't played an EA Sports game on Wii, let me just say that you feel similar to a soldier who just trekked 59 miles during the Bataan Death March before falling to the ground, then you get stabbed by the bayonete of a Japanese soldier. Luckily, you happen to be the grandson of Filipino national hero Andrés Bonifácio, so your life is spared after a Filipino, disguised as a Japanese soldier, acts like he kills you but you're really taken off the road to help John Wayne lead the resistence before General MacArthur comes back three years later. So playing Madden on Wii feels like you're being stabbed after walking 59 miles, but really, you're helping John Wayne, so you keep playing even though it sucks. And I've had numerous people tell me they felt the same way).

Well, the game that could be my last personal gaming purchase will be released on Sept. 9, 2009. The game, affectionally known as The Beatles: Rock Band, was debuted today at the E3 thingy. The trailor is now up online. (See: below)

I was pretty ecstatic as I watched the gaming versions of John, Paul, George and Ringo play at the Cavern Club, Ed Sullivan Show, Shea Stadium and the Budokan, but the bird broke through the cage when the I Am The Walrus segment appeared. Awesome! And then it ends with them in the studio, on the roof and a scene where they play on a hill. Besides the hill thing, the looks are uncanny. The settings look real. They've captured all of the biggest moments and stages of their career. Dhani Harrison, George's son, has proved to be an invaluable asset to the game producers as he's provided historically accurate information.

That said, I am concerned about the Back in the U.S.S.R. segment, which featured the Beatles in the studio for the White Album sessions, with Ringo on drums. Obviously, readers of this blog know that Ringo temporarily quit the band when the song was introduced on Aug. 22, 1968. The three remaining Beatles, instead of halting recording sessions, finished the song in five takes in two days with Paul on drums (although two other drum tracks were overdubbed later, but these were thought to be added by either John or George, according to Mark Lewisohn). Ringo came back several days after the song was completed. So, really, it should be Paul playing drums in the game, and Ringo should be shown crying in his house as he wonders why the hell he just flushed his career down the toilet by quitting the Greatest Band on Earth. Obviously, anyone could be the drummer for the Beatles. C'mon Ringo. Get it together.

Now, you may be saying, "Wow, Sean. How about you try not to an effin' d-bag right now? They just made a stupid video game about a band that you've devoted more of your life to than God. Maybe you should lighten up a little bit." Two responses: 1) Why is there not a "God: The Video Game"? I mean, the Bible has violence, killing, blood, God, royalty, back-stabbing and snakes, which is everything you want in a video game. Let's recreate the Old Testament here. I want to control Moses by parting the waters and unleashing a plague that kills all the first-born babies in Egypt. I want to be David and sling the rock at Goliath's face. I want to be Noah and go Oregon Trial style by sailing the Ark around rocks, while fending off lions in the Captain's quarters. Someone get to work on this. 2) If I'm dropping $250 on a video game, the info better be right. If you bought Madden and it had the Packers as the best team in the NFL, then you'd want a refund because that's obviously bullshit. So let's get this fixed before the release date.

The only problem is that barring some miracle that I become employable, stay in school, graduate and own a teaching job by next June, I will never own this game as it's priced at $250 for the limited edition bundle, which includes the Hofner Bass. The September release date is also the worst month in the world. Not only will all my extra money (this "extra money" doesn't actually exist for the Mrs. Thug Mrs. and I, but we'll make it up for blogging purposes) going to four family birthdays that month, and I will be ensconsed in 15 hours of classes on campus, two correspondence classes, one part-time job and one day spent in a high school classroom per week. Also, the entire Beatles catalog is being remastered and released the same day -- in mono and stereo. Awesome. When's this economy turning around again?

Either way, I look forward to owning this game at some point in my life. Now if only I could design God: The Video Game...

You Tube...no, you're a tube
This should be obvious...