Diary of a Low Budget Superhero

Do you ever hear about something that a person did that was so stupid, I mean so incredibly brainless, that your reaction is something like "Wha...why...ARE...PEOPLE...!?" It's like the act of stupidity was so powerful that just by hearing about it, a dam of dumb burst and sent a wave of stupid all the way from its origin to your brain where it took away your verbs. All your mouth can summon is "Why are people."

While I was just typing that, a recent news story popped into mind. This poor fucker. I wasn't actually THINKING of this guy as having done something stupid, and really, I feel horribly, terrible awful for him, but if I were this guy's friend, I would have to say, "Dude. Really? That's the solution that came to mind?"

This happened June 6th, a few weeks ago, in Connecticut. Guy was attempting to repair his furnace, stuck his left arm inside it, between the slats of the vents. He couldn't quite reach, so instead of saying "Damn, I can't reach," he forced his arm in further.

Don't read anymore if you have a delicate constitution.

Like I know anyone like that! You are all iron stomached, right?

Well, he got that arm stuck, but GOOD. He was actually trapped for an entire long, horrifying day, 18 hours. At which point he began to cut his arm off with his hand tools.

In the interviews he's very matter-of-fact about it. "I fashioned a tourniquet from a shirt," he calmly tells the cameras, and then describes the incredible ordeal of attempting a self-amputation. "The cut was going well, surprisingly well, for about half way through," he explains. But then the pain got to be too much (ya think?) and he passed out. Then the next day his work friend got worried about his unexplained absence. They found his dog barking, got into the house, found him, used the jaws of life to get him free and rushed him to the hospital. He's OK now, amazingly, save for the lack of a left arm anymore.

When I first saw the news story, it seemed for all the world like the guy had maybe seen one too many Saw movies. Well, even ONE is one-too-many Saw movies, but you know what I mean. He goes for amputation on the first day!? People have survived trapped for way longer than THAT without resorting to such a drastic act.

But now, a couple weeks later, the docs are saying that when his arm got stuck ("got" stuck, as though the arm acted on its own) it began to decay or decomp or whatever, and that by severing the arm the guy prevented toxins from entering the rest of his body and killing him.

I think they're just trying to make the guy feel better. It sounds like putting the best possible spin on a horrifying scene. In reality, he's like Hedwig. You know, of Angry Inch fame.

ONLY in my top five favorite movies ever conceived by pure genius.

Like young hopeful Hedwig, trapped on the wrong side of the Berlin wall and opting to undergo a sex change operation just to escape, by passing as the bride of an American soldier, only to have the operation botched and then, oh, the humanity, the wall came down anyway, just in time for Hedwig to be left destitute in blighted Junction City, Kansas.

If only he'd waited! The end of the ordeal was near, if only he'd known!

At least the furnace guy didn't get his johnson caught in the furnace. Hedwig lost everything but an angry inch down there. Furnace Arm Guy lost an arm. Every man would give up an arm to keep the goods. Also, Hedwig is fictional.

I wonder if Furnace Arm Guy was left-handed?

Here's the story:
http://article.wn.com/view/2010/06/11/Man_Trapped_in_Furnace_Amputated_Own_Arm_to_Live/

After telling that whole story, now I don't remember what I was actually thinking of when I started this entry about stupid things people do. Furnace Arm Guy made me forget.

Good luck with everything, Furnace Arm Guy. I couldn't have done what you did, and moreover, I'm still working out what the life lesson is here. "Never force your arm into a furnace" just seems like something that goes without saying.

Then again, so does "Never drill for ANYTHING without a fail-safe disaster recovery plan."

Ohhhh yes, NOW I remember what I was actually thinking of when I started this entry about stupid things people do, and I'm pissed and stunned and speechless all over again. The...you can't...it's so...ARGGH, WHY ARE PEOPLE!?

Two movies started about an hour ago, at midnight. I was supposed to be working on an essay, but as I glumly sat, freshly showered and staring down a blinking cursor that was all but mocking inspiration, I couldn't stand the deafening silence. Treading empty pages makes for a lonely night, dudes. So I reached over and mashed some buttons on the remote. And here I am, an hour later.

No surprise Lost Boys is on right now. Corey Haim died four days ago. Wow, what to say about Corey Haim dying at thirty-eight. No really, what to say? I don't have a poignant eulogy or even anything remotely erudite. As a tweenybopper I didn't pin up his picture, I didn't run out to see all his movies, "Mrs. Corey Haim" never appeared scribbled on my schoolbooks. He seemed so innocuous with those clear wide eyes, round little mouth and puffy hair. He never seemed to have any grain to him. Sneakers. Jeans. If not for being paired with Corey Feldman, who I always thought fiery and compelling and just a little insane, I doubt I'd have taken much notice of Corey Haim at all. In the eighties I was more into Brit rockers in eyeliner, boys in heels and paisley, leatherbound freaks with long hair and earrings. Corey Haim was more like the fresh-faced boys in my homeroom. There were Corey Haims everywhere riding their ten-speeds and running around the soccer field. In Lost Boys, what teen aged girl was looking at Corey Haim when wild-eyed Kiefer Sutherland in that long black coat was facing off with Jason Patric who was doing that smoldering stare thing and murmuring, "Look at my square jawline and sexy leather jacket." Corey Haim, well, he was just this guy, you know?

But still, something like a veil of nostalgia falls whenever anyone around my own age dies, an extra layer of sorrow when the cause is avoidable and self-inflicted, something stupid like drugs. And where was I that I didn't even know Corey Haim was among Hollywood's notorious drug users? I didn't know that! Robert Downy Jr., Andy Dick, Charlie Sheen, Danny Bonaduce -- these are the wild boys who come to mind whenever talk turns to LA's snorting & boozing elite. But Corey Haim? He seemed so pure. It's like hearing that Kirk Cameron or Ralph Macchio succumbed. I bet at least a couple of people, when told about his death, said, "Are you sure it's not Corey Feldman?" Feldman was always so vocal about his problems, his party life was as cringe-inducingly obvious as his Michael Jackson fandom. But now I'm hearing that reality show the Coreys did was wracked with drug issues, and that means people knew he needed help, and that makes it just such a waste of a young life. That's mostly what I feel, that it's a terrible waste of a young life.

Remember when we lost River Phoenix? I was 23. So was he, and boy did I adore River Phoenix. He was like a shimmering young Adonis, seemed so self-assured and destined for greatness to the degree that it didn't seem possible that he should be walking around on the planet with the rest of us mere mortals. Twenty-three years, that's all he got. Oh, River.

No surprise The Cutting Edge is on right now. It's an ice skating movie, and after the winter Olympics one out of every two people is a durn fool for ice skating. Is it you? No? FINE, it's me! God I love this movie!

When it came out the tag line was "The ultimate love/skate relationship." I am able to agree that it's stupid, but must also insist that it's TEN KINDS OF AWESOME. DB Sweeney plays a hotshot up-and-coming college hockey player who gets his head slammed between the ice and some large Germans, so then he has a blind spot in his eye, which effectively kills his pro hockey career. Moira Kelley, who I LOVE, plays an impossibly snotty champion figure skater whose talent is as giant as her ego. If I were as corny as the script writers I'd pen some line about her personality and ice, but let's leave that alone for the sake of, um, not sucking. Let's just say she's such a bitch that she has run through all the available skating partners, so her coach recruits DB Sweeney. He hates figure skating, they hate each other, but they manage to skate their way to the 1992 Olympics. I tell you, it's awesome. There are sequels, though. Ignore.

So that's what I'm doing instead of writing, flipping between the vampires and the figure skaters. Pretty simple avoidance measures. Skating and vampires. Somehow it works, in a weird way.

"Maggots, Michael. You're eating maggots. How do they taste?"

"Spindler say before he skate with her, he wear garlic from neck and sleep with cross. Who is left?"

"You're a vampire Michael! You wait 'till mom finds out, buddy!"

"Pairs means TWO. You have no partner. You are skating nowhere!"

"Death by stereo!"

"There's only two things I do really well, sweetheart, and skating's the other one!"

"How much do you think we should charge them for this?"

"Toe pick!"

Avoidance, avoidance. What is it that I'm trying so hard not to think about?

My friends are looneytoons. In a good way, especially when they make me laugh when I'm feeling hungry and cranky. There's a message board where a buncha truculent music types hang out during the work day, and in response to someone's post that there's gonna be yet ANOTHER Indiana Jones movie, there came a rush of fake movie titles. So far my favorites are:

Indiana Jones & the Pre-existing Condition
Indiana Jones & the Early Bird Special
Indiana Jones and the I Forgot What I Came In Here For

This can go on all day. And probably will.