The Baddest Bad Guy Ever: Andrew Ryan

All of my friends know that Im obsessed with the video game "Bioshock." What sells this game, however, is its main antagonist, Andrew Ryan. Ryan drives the story line in an impressive way; He provides the setting, atmosphere, and enemies you have to fight. Allow me to elaborate; Andrew Ryan was born in the soviet union, pre-Lenin era. As he grew older, he realized the horrors of communism, and instead fled to the United States. Much to his disappointment, the US was not what he was promised; Financial and social equality, and a lack of true creativity or progression. The final straw was when the United states bombed hiroshima. Having lost all his patients with the world, Ryan and his colleagues built an underwater city known as Rapture. This entirely self sufficient utopia took only a handful of societys brightest and best Artists, athletes, industrialists, and Scientists. The Utopia quickly became a Distopia, however, as science began to overthrow morality and personal freedom became anarchy and corruption.

What makes Andrew Ryan such a great villain is the fact that he isnt necessarily Evil. In fact, in his eyes YOU are the antagonist, coming to plunder his city. Hes not a bad man, hes simply a visionary who sees you as a threat. Of course, hes no nancy-boy. Andrew Ryan is stern, severe, threatening, and most of all, Dangerous. When he means to achieve something, he does it, and doesnt stop until the job is done. Even with his dying words, he shows that you're just as much of a villain as he was. HES SO COOL!

Quotes:

"I am Andrew Ryan, and I'm here to ask you a question. Is a man not entitled to the sweat of his brow? 'No!' says the man in Washington, 'It belongs to the poor.' 'No!' says the man in the Vatican, 'It belongs to God.' 'No!' says the man in Moscow, 'It belongs to everyone.' I rejected those answers; instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose... Rapture, a city where the artist would not fear the censor, where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality, Where the great would not be constrained by the small! And with the sweat of your brow, Rapture can become your city as well. "

"What is the difference between a man and a parasite? A man builds, a parasite asks 'Where's my share?' A man creates, a parasite says 'What will the neighbors think?' A man invents, a parasite says 'Watch out, or you might tread on the toes of God...'"

"I believe in no God, no invisible man in the sky. But there is something more powerful than each of us, a combination of our efforts, a Great Chain of industry that unites us. But it is only when we struggle in our own interest that the chain pulls society in the right direction. The chain is too powerful and too mysterious for any government to guide. Any man who tells you different either has his hand in your pocket, or a pistol to your neck."

"A man chooses, a slave obeys."

The Producers!

The Producers by Mel Brooks is the greatest musical ever written and performed. Here’s the scoop, it tells the tale of Cowardly accountant Leopold bloom, and down-on-his-luck producer Max Bialystock. Together, they set out to produce the worst play ever on Broadway Here’s the reason: If a Broadway show closes before the scheduled ending, the producers don’t have to pay the backers, who put stock in the show, and take their money and run. So Max and Leo have to find not only the worst play ever written, but the worst director and actors. The play they choose is "Springtime for Hitler," written by the eccentric, manic, and loveable neo-Nazi Franz Liebkind. "Its the mother load!" exclaims max as he reads the Hitler praising dialogue and music. After meeting Franz and gaining the rights to the play (after being forced to sing and dance the fuehrer’s favorite tune : Der Guttentag Hop-clop), Max and Leo need to find the worst director in town, and Max knows just the man for the job; The flamboyantly gay Roger Debris. After gaining his allegiance by promising him the Tony for the show, Max needs the money to finance the play. It’s revealed that he is a male prostitute for old ladies. After raising two million dollars ("There’s a lot of little old ladies out there!) Nothing seems to be in the way of the Doomed show. That is until Franz, who was going to play adolf Hitler in the show, ironically breaks his leg on opening night. The only person who knows his lines is Roger, so instead of the show being a serious, historically accurate homage to Hitler, it becomes a silly comedy, and the show is actually so tasteless and whacked that is HILARIOUS! This means bad news for the producers, and they go to prison for fraud. They are pardoned after their NEW musical "Prisoners of Love" Brings "the joy of music into the hearts of every rapist, murderer, and mugger at sing-sing." Leo and Max go on to produce more tasteless musicals (south Passaic, a streetcar named Marty, Cats) and Roger goes on to become a famous Broadway actor. Even Franz gets a happy ending and becomes a famous playwright. In the end, alls well that ends well, and the producers are silhouetted against a wall of light bulb signs blazing their names.

What makes "The Producers" So funny is that it basically follows the same formula as the fictional play. Its racist, raunchy, prejudice, and rude, but all these traits make it very funny; its so bad, its good. The characters are all very personable and likeable (Franz is my favorite character) and the music... geez, don’t get me started on the music. I love this musical to a ludicrous extent, and I REALLY hope they do it at the school because I already know pretty much all of the lines. Here’s a few samples:


"Ze Fuhrer vas not a mousy little mamas boy, ZE FUHRER VAS BUTCH!"
"I was scared that I was going to go to jail, but I didn’t realize that I was already... in Jail! I spend my life counting other people's money. People I’m smarter than, BETTER THAN! When am I going to get my share, when is it going to be bloomsday! I want, I want, I WANT EVERYTHING IVE EVER SEEN IN THE MOVIES!"
"Bloom, I’ve got the money, now all we gotta do is put on the biggest flop in history!"
"Not many people know zis, but ze fuehrer was a TERRIFIC dancer."
"Quick darling, back in the closet!"

10 minutes of insanity: A blog by Zane

FISHSTICKS! The emperor has no clothes, take a picture! dried frog pills. That swordfish sure looks shifty.... ITS A TRAP. Hold on a moment, please. Whazzat? NO! Igloos are attacking the swedish bank of bacon grease! Get the president on the line. I DONT KNOW! HEHEHEHEHEH! No way! SHUT UP GRIZZLY BEAR BREATH! ummmm... ok? listen up noobs, in my squad you do what I say, so throw those potatoes into those mailboxes! I call it, THE CUIZANARTAGRAMAPHONE, dear god its reached CRITICAL MASS! Im hungry. Nachos sound good. NO LENNY I WILL NOT THROW YOU THROUGH A WINDOW. Gulp. I have your knife mr. Roat! ZAPPLE DAFFLE DOOF! The human torch HATES RAIN! The color brown makes me nervous. Penny arcades abound in the glorious land of WISCONSIN! Never you mind Mr. Willikins! Que Cristo? Bawbbidy boopy? I like sausages. ONCE MORE UNTO THE BREACH MY FRIENDS! ONCE MOOOOORE! CHARGE! Oh dear, I seem to be oozing blood from every hole on my face. Wait a minute, make that every hole on my entire body. Sizzle grams; send a letter to your loved ones, then give them third degree burns! ITS THAT EASY! We're hungry hungry hippos, hungry hungry hippos, we should really go on a diet.

Oh no, 3 minutes to go!

Sour cream and onion sauce is all over the bathroom! That boy needs therapy Mrs. Destructor. Christmas lights taste like lighting. NOOOOOOOOO! Wake up bacon bits! I cant feel my lungs! Do I have a pulse? HRUUUUGHH! Im ok folks, just slight radiation burns! WIZZLE WAZZLE FEE FAI FO FAZZLE! Knicker Knockers. Kaboom!

You have just witnessed 10 minutes of typing with no thought process or direction. Cherish that memory, for in this world, everything must have a structure, a story, a purpose. I say no! I just stare at a wall and let my fingers fly.

Thats probably not a stable idea is it....

Geez, did I really type that?

Journal Time: Blog-o-sphere!

I've been really bogged down with work at school over the last couple of weeks. These butty assignments have included MAJOR persuasive essays and various tests and quizzes on the grapes of wrath, Lab reports abound and TONS of tests in math and science, AND various scripts and projects in Creative Writing. Heres the weird part though; I have nothing due today. No tests, no quizzes, only one class with homework. I feel empty inside! Its just plain awkward! Its amazing how school can have that effect on a persons mind. For example, after a school play is over, I often feel awkward going home on the normal bus. So, not doing the play has had a less favorable reaction than I hoped for. Alot of people are all like "SAY WHAAAT!?" when I tell them the truth. I just dont have time for it! Im gonna miss a week of school in Mexico, and Pilot season starts at the end of January, so Im gonna go on a LOT of auditions. Plus, (and I hope Perry doesnt read this) I honestly don't really like that play so much. SO SUE ME!

Raking... and Fight Club!

Boy, I sure do love raking! Isnt it delightfully futile how as you pick up leaves, new ones just blow in their place? Even better is how your hands smell like decaying leaves for the whole day. Seriously, sometimes I just want to take a flamethrower to my yard. I should probably get back to raking, but I would much rather blog right now. So anyway I just watched that movie "Fight Club." Pretty wild. I wish I had a split personality that made me do really awesome things... well, not the whole destruction of property and financial chaos thing, but you get the idea. My split personality wouldnt be Brad Pitt though... It would be Abraham Lincoln. Nah, Honest Abe wouldn't do very cool things. ok ok ok, I got it! My split personality would be Bender from Futurama, yeah. That would be awesome. I think I have a SERIOUS problem with Zombies right now. Every other night I have a nightmare about them. Seriously though, they are so scary. RANDOMNESS OVERDOSE! EXPLOSION IMMINENT IN 3! 2! 1! ......

The Story of Hans Hasenpfeffer

Hans Hasenpfeffer tripped over a dozing man while strolling to the bratwurst barbecue. He simply chuckled and heaved his pudgy lederhosen clad body wobbly to his feet and brushed himself off. Hans counted down the days on his calendar for Oktoberfest. It was his promised land, a week of nothing but pretzels, bratwurst, oom-pah music, and controlled chaos of partying. His father took him to his first Oktoberfest when he was only six, and ever since he saw it as the holiest week of the year. He sat down on a birch wood bench, which sagged under in weight, and joined in a drunken rendition of “Take Me Home Country Road” with a droopy eyed American and Japanese man. He smiled to himself and began to devour a spit-roast chicken. Little did he know that a dark shadow loomed on the horizon.
The Oktoberfesters noticed the growing shadow as I darkened the stuffy tent, and they recognized it immediately. “Oh no, they’re back!” cried Hans’s friend Heinrich Von Vindow-Vasher. The Eiffel tower hovered over the green German horizon, massive rockets attached to its four bases. Piloting the evil construct was none other than Pierre the Fighter pilot.
“Denizens of Oktoberfest!” he shouted in a thick accent, “Cease this festival at ONCE! The consumption of alcohol is no stable activity for a cultural celebration! You should celebrate with paintings and class like we French!”
“Do you mean “we French” as in the group of you, or Oui French which means yes French?” shouted a German Tuba player from the crowd.
“It doesn’t matter,” Hans interrupted, “I’ve been to every Oktoberfest since I could walk upright, and no Legionnaire is going to stop me!” Hans grabbed every remaining untapped keg and barrel, hopped in his multicolored Volkswagen bus and drove to the Berlin science center’s centrifuge. After intense shaking and spinning, the canisters vibrated with dangerous gaseous tension. Hans Lugged the bursting barrels back to his van, and sped back to the festival, where Pierre and the crowd was still arguing about the “we French” statement.
Hans stood triumphantly and lined up his munitions, oompa music in his ears and pride in his heart.
“LE CHAAAAARGE!” Pierre shouted and the French monument slowly began its rocket boosted advance towards the puny beer tent. Hans picked up an oompa drummer’s mallet and struck the corks and taps on the barrels. The canisters shot at the Eiffel tower, foam trailing behind, driven by sheer gaseous pressure. After several direct hits, the tower was covered in ale, and the rockets combusted the monument into a massive flaming spire. “If I go down, I go down in flames!” cried Pierre as the Eiffel Tower listed to the side and exploded. Hans gave a hearty red faced smile, and with his friends hobbled back into the tent to have a congratulatory pretzel.
“Long live Oktoberfest!” cried Hans. They cheered and began devouring a savory pig roast, knowing that next year’s would be just as fun.

Surviving an Action Movie

Lets start off simple here. If you find yourself in a movie, you will pe pit against an antagonist. This antagonist will ruin your life, and it is your purpouse to defeat this villain. DO NOT ASSUME THIS ANTAGONIST HAS BEEN DEFEATED UNTIL YOU SEE HIS BODY OR REMAINS! Too many times has a character been killed off because they assumed "Theres no way he could have survived that fall!" and then bam! Right in the kisser.

Secondly, If you run into a female character who talks alot, YOU WILL END UP WITH HER. Believe me, it doesnt matter how much you both cant stand eachother in the beginning of the plot, the director considers this conflict "Dynamic Romantic Tension."in lamen's terms, you two will be marching down the aisle by lunchtime.

The scientist character always dies first. Trust me. If you find yourself in a movie, and your GPA is equal to or higher than 4.5, kill yourself. DO IT. DO IT NOW.

DO NOT EXPECT TO MARCH RIGHT UP TO THE VILLAIN AND DEFEAT HIM! Noooo, you have to work your way up, take out his henchmen first, than his lieutenants, than his second in command (the female character will probably take out the only other female character in a catfight) and finally, you beat him one on one, probably through an explosion, avalanche or other chain reaction. Remember rule 1!

Are you holding a gun in the beginning of your journey? Yes? Throw it off a cliff. Believe me, youre going to get less use out of that thing than a fork at KFC. Either youll be out of bullets, or it will be just out of reach when you most need it. I know, its crazy, but believe me, it happens all the time.

When you finally defeat your villain, You must say a witty or imposing line or quip. If you don't, the villain will keep coming back scarred or replaced with robotic body parts until you do. Take for example, jaws from James Bond. Seriously, How many times has that guy died?

DO NOT GET INTO A CAR. TRUST ME. CARS = BAAAAAD! Either it will break down, run out of gas, get its tires blown out, etc. Instead, grab a nice motorcycle. You'll be fine, trust me.

The bad guys have terrible aim. Take advantage of this. Allow them to shoot at you as much as possible before actually taking action. Its fun!

THANK YOU FOR READING ZANE'S ACTION MOVIE SURVIVAL GUIDE! With these rules you will be more than prepared for your poorly constructed plot and lousy character design!