Issue #62


O Buffalo: Why Move When we can Secede? - Al Uthman

Love or Four Hour Erections: The Choice is Clear - Matt Taibbi

The Falsification and Death Administration: FDA Approval may be Hazardous to your Health - Kit Smith

Meaning of Tripe: Countdown to the Beast's Ten Worst Presidential Election Campaign Hacks of 2004- Matt Taibbi

10 Ultra-Cynical Ways to Beat the Republicans

The Big Rig: This Election was Worse than 2000 - William Rivers Pitt

The Smoldering Fuel Rods of Environmental Justice - Chris Meister


The BEAST Interview With God

Who Voted Bush? - A BEAST Quiz

A Word From Our Sponsors


Buffalo in Briefs


Page 3

Separated at Birth?

[sic] - Letters

The Straight Dope w/ Dr Rotten



Kino Korner




Wide Right: O Captain my Captain - Ronnie Roscoe


Beast Comix - Jim Gielow

I Witless News - I. Gonzalez

Deep Fried - Jason Yungbluth

Bob The Angry Flower - Stephen Notley

Last Issue (#61)


Voting Guide of FEAR

Top 10 Reasons to be TERRIFIED This Halloween - Al Uthman

Onward Christian Assholes: Some Folks Just Can't Wait for the Apocalypse - Matt Taibbi

A Talk With Sam Hoyt - Eric Gauchat

Give 'em Enough Pink Ribbon to Hang Themselves: Breast Cancer? Chemical Firm Supplies Cause & Cure - Kit Smith


Our Election Campaign Sponsors

The BEAST Scary Election Fun Page!

Over 60 Million Killed in Huge Fucking Flu Epidemic - Josh Righter


Buffalo in Briefs


The Straight Dope w/ Dr Rotten

Page 3

Separated at Birth?

[sic] - Letters



Kino Korner


Album Reviews: Interpol, Mos Def


Wide Right: Going Double-Negative - Ronnie Roscoe


I Witless News - I. Gonzalez

Deep Fried - Jason Yungbluth

Bob The Angry Flower - Stephen Notley

Issue #60


Mayoral Survivor Contest: The BEAST Wants You to Run for Mayor!

Truth is Overrated: Why Does My TV Think Bush Won the Debate? - Al Uthman

Political Snickering: M&M/Mars' Campaign of Terror - Matt Taibbi

Big Brother Knows Best: Blockbuster Rents Bogus Fahrenheit 9/11 DVDs - Paco Alameda

Scary Little Man: Bush's Belligerence -William Rivers Pitt

Kneeling Before George: President Bush is a Serious Stud - Merry Dunce, the Beast's "Fresh Voice"

American Indian Museum Opens in DC, Promptly Stolen by American History Museum -Jake Novak

Reading the Blitz: Election Hacks Score Touchdown in Overtime Frenzy - Matt Taibbi

Freedumb: Zell Miller Echoes Militaristic Fallacy - Mark Golden


Buffalo in Briefs


Notes from the Big House

The Straight Dope w/ Dr Rotten

Brush with Greatness: I met Gretzky - Seamus Gallivan

Page 3

Separated at Birth?

[sic] - Letters

Contact Us


Archives--Old BEASTs







2004 The Beast

KINO KORNER: Movies by Michael Gildea


The Incredibles

If you're a fan of comic books and superheroes in general, The Incredibles is an animated movie done right.

It's the story of a family of superheroes forced to retire ten years ago. They're in a superhero relocation program and faced with the mediocrity that suburban life brings. Of course, there's an evil villain who threatens humanity forcing the now-doughy Incredibles out of retirement.

The Incredibles is good because it's got a lot of things that adults will be able to relate to and enjoy while they let a projection on an enormous screen sedate their children with colorful images and laughs. And of course the lines that inspire those laughs will be repeated for weeks on end. I weep for the future.

Surprisingly, Pixar, the company responsible for the creation of The Incredibles and other computer-animated cartoons such as Toy Story and Finding Nemo, has ditched animal, puppet, and insect characters for human ones. I'm sure that means something, but I really don't know and care even less as to what it could be.

The worst part about The Incredibles is that it's a kids' movie. And that means horrific trailers and the off chance that some cretin at the concession stand spiked the popcorn, candy, and anything else that their parents use to indulge their children with PCP, even more sugar, and in all likelihood top-shelf mescaline. And that means that the kids will crawl around on everything like an army of horny drunken masons while simultaneously groaning in the throes of agony and concurrent ecstasy as they get their chocolaty and caramel-drenched hands in your hair and on your person.

The only answer is mace. Chances are these little bastards have been pepper-sprayed so many times by their parents and unofficial law enforcement agencies that the chemicals are more like a seasoning than an offensive weapon to them. A king-sized can of mace is your only chance of surviving a kids' movie screening gone wrong in this day and age. And in this town especially.

As advice, I must mention that if you attack one, the rest will take you on head first and in all probability in record numbers. Use the carcass of the one you've defeated as a weapon against the rest of the cannibalistic little savages and hopefully you'll have enough energy to make it to the emergency exit.


The funniest part of some movies is that after they show you the preview for that particular movie, they expect you to go out of the way by spending your money and seeing it. You know exactly what you're getting into with Alfie; you're given ample warning. But you can't really escape it.

There are two different perspectives from which you can take Alfie, the remake of the 1966 film about an English man-whore/chauffeur in Manhattan, one of which is a woman's perspective. You've got Jude Law, a handsome Englishman in New York hitting all of the hottest trim he can. They drool for the better part of two hours, forgetting to blink and dehydrating via their nether regions. A talent scout for the Special Olympics would be like a dope fiend at a Dead show under those circumstances. Jude Law's so dreamy and women by and large think to themselves, "he can hit me anytime."

I'm sure there's not a woman alive who would say that. At least not in those words. And any woman alive who would say that now knows what her problem is.

Then there's the matter of us sad bastards who are going to get dragged to this bloodbath. The males of the species. We get yanked there or emotionally blackmailed into this thing because of something we did, or more likely didn't do.

We endure it; take one for the team. We watch this limey hedonist cavort with a slew of women that we as reluctant filmgoers and failed males could never land. Or maybe we could. The female stars of Alfie definitely have better lighting than any illumination that the Old Pink could offer, even to Susan Sarandon.

It's enough of a travesty that you have to suffer this madness, but when Jude Law turns to talk to the camera as if we're hanging on his every action to rub our faces in it, and to be so goddamned charming about it That's just the last goddamned straw.

Domestic and romantic squabbles break out throughout the theater. Men shout at their women and various exclamations are made in protest before they announce that they're either through with their women or plan to turn themselves sideways at the sports bar across the parking lot.

Some sample objections from the debacle:

-"There is nothing I have done to you or anyone else in my entire life to deserve this. You'll be hearing from my attorney."

-"I don't care if you'll agree to a three-way with your sister after a case of PBR. This just ain't worth it!"

-"No! I don't care if this isn't as bad as Gigli! You don't get to pick the movie anymore!"

"And just when I didn't think I was going to get an excuse to give you two black eyes. I guess something good came from this after all."

This is the fourth of six movies that Jude Law is appearing in this fall. I was initially glad about this because I think he's a really good actor. But now it's getting to the point where I can't go to a bar without him hopping on stage to sing karaoke. And it's always "Hey Jude." Always.


Dying is the best career move that some celebrities/performers/musicians can make. With the exception of his role in The Blues Brothers, I never really got into Ray Charles. I could always appreciate and even admire the fact that the man got to where he was without the use of his eyes, but that's about it.

So Ray Charles dies and in a matter of a few short months later, there's a movie about him. There's a sect of people that get into an artist only after they die. It's like they feel guilty that they never appreciated them when there were around. And suddenly the sales of knock-off best of albums shoot through the roof.

And it's that strategy that Universal Pictures used when releasing Ray, the biopic of Ray Charles' life. It's all right. No matter how you felt about the man, you've got to admit that Jaime Foxx does a damn fine job of playing him; clinching off so as not to try and sound like him during the musical numbers.

If you're either a Ray Charles fan or a Jamie Foxx fan, Ray is worth checking out, but that goes without saying. If you're just into going to the movie, bring a cane, a pair of shades, and a cup of pencils. On the chance that you feel ripped off, stand outside the theater and you just may make your money back. And make sure you say "God bless you, sir" after someone gives you some money. It's more convincing that way.

I Heart Huckabee's

Film comedies are a real gamble. Everybody's got a different definition of what's funny. For instance, there are people out there who think that White Chicks was funny. Then there are those who think that something along the lines of Meet the Parents is a goddamned laugh riot.

Then there are the rest of us who like our comedy weird. Just out there. Films like Adaptation and Bottle Rocket, with enough craziness and randomness to leave us orbiting the earth, far enough out to give us a vacation from conventional comedy but close enough to Earth to give us a certain sense of security if we get too freaked out.

I Heart Huckabee's is directed and co-written by David O. Russell, who gave us such underrated classics as Three Kings and Flirting With Disaster, both of which are great films in their own right, but apparently a little too tame by Russell's standards. But Huckabee's is out of the safety orbit.

It's a great movie. A film about a treehugger (Jason Schwartzman) who gets a pair of existential detectives (Dustin Hoffman and Lily Tomlin) to solve an odd set of coincidences in his life has a lot more going for it than it lets on. Tack on a corporate stooge with his own agenda (Jude Law), a philosophically confused firefighter with a personal vendetta against petroleum products (Mark Wahlberg, in a show-stealing performance), and a cameo from Shania Twain, and there's no stopping it.

I Heart Huckabee's is as abnormally hilarious as it makes you think, something that all entertainment should do on a low-voltage level. But Huckabee's may be a little too clever for its own good. If you're still paying off that Philosophy masters while working your factory job, Huckabee's may offer some solace as you work on the assembly line the next day. But those who consider themselves deep thinkers after reading Tuesdays With Morrie may be blindsided and ultimately disinterested by the time the credits roll.


You know, in westerns, when there's some unbeatable gunslinger? Every pissant within two hundred miles comes to town to take him on and ends up in the ground less than a half hour later. That's what 95% of recent horror movies are like to me. Trying to knock the greats off the hill. I don't care anymore, so I fall asleep.

Saw put me to sleep in a record six minutes and twenty-eight seconds. I woke up to a married couple from Amherst, who were drinking cheap corn liquor out of a paper bag and trying to have their way with me. Button-fly pants saved the day once again, as it was the wife's uncontrolled fiddling that alerted me to the situation. They shared their Snowcaps with me and the husband offered me twenty bucks and a swig of his booze if he could put his finger in me. I mentioned my nonexistent hemorrhoids, and they bolted to the nearest TGIFridays.

Technically, that was scary.


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O Buffalo

Al Uthman

It's time to face some unpleasant facts, Buffalo. This country may not be the best place for us anymore. On November 2nd, we all bore witness to a terrible turning point in our history; a bad lifestyle choice, if you will. We had the chance to reject the increasing madness of our nation's leadership, their blind march to pointless war and craven desire to take advantage of us in every manner conceivable, and we blew it. America has spoken, and it said "duh."

Love or 4-Hour Erections

Matt Taibbi

...If history is any guide, the DLC will spend the next four years trying to find a pious bomb-thrower to put up as the nominee- unless, of course, the poll numbers in a few years' time show that Barack Obama is good-looking, black and charming enough to get the party over the hump using the same basic playbook that worked so swimmingly this time.

10 Ultra-cynical Ways to Beat the Republicans

Why did the Democrats lose? At least in part, it's because they thought that being right would actually work in their favor. Let's face it, logic doesn't mean squat in politics. People say there's too much cynicism in politics today, but we think there really isn't enough. Cynicism works. The Republican Party has embraced it, and it has worked wonders for them. The Democrats have made some progress in this area, but they are still lagging badly. If there's any hope for the blue states, they must learn the lessons of Machiavelli and Rove. To help them along, the BEAST offers these suggestions.

Buffalo in Briefs

Election Day Madness! - Oh you crazy Western New York voters! How long have your politicians, specifically the assholes in Albany, been screwing you to the wall? Forever! So what did you motivated citizens go and do on election day? You went and reelected 99% of them. ?

The Falsification & Death Administration

Kit Smith

The staff at the Food and Drug Administration may not actively hate you and want you to die, but a study of the agency's sordid history suggests that they don't really care if you live either. Lucky for us, drug companies are kind, conscientious, and self-regulating. For example, in late September Merck and Co, makers of Vioxx, agreed to voluntarily recall their famous drug, now that a new study suggests it may put people at increased risk for heart attack. Isn't that nice of them? How thoughtful…. Unless four years doesn't qualify as "new" to you.

The Meaning of Tripe

WELL, IT'S OVER. Last week we Americans celebrated one of our grandest traditions, the victory of Tweedledum over Tweedledee. The occasion was marked by awe and splendor on all sides, as befits a contest in which the leader of the free world is chosen in race to see which Ivy League graduate is quicker to reach for a duck call at the sight of a Reuters photographer.

The Smoldering Fuel Rods of Environmental Justice

Chris Meister

Mercurial weather put an electricity in the late October air in West Valley last weekend. Or perhaps that electricity came from the blazing fires of dissent? A nuclear waste processing plant, AKA the West Valley Demonstration Project, was the arena for a pre-Halloween protest-fest that drew a whopping…20 people.

The Big Rig

William Rivers Pitt

Everyone remembers Florida's 2000 election debacle, and all of the new terms it introduced to our political lexicon: Hanging chads, dimpled chads, pregnant chads, overvotes, undervotes, Sore Losermans, Jews for Buchanan and so forth. It took several weeks, battalions of lawyers and a questionable decision from the U.S. Supreme Court to show the nation and the world how messy democracy can be. By any standard, what happened in Florida during the 2000 Presidential election was a disaster.

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