I guess I really can’t take credit for getting this one right

It’s official: Toshiba has tapped out, BluRay has won the format battle and Sony’s stock has taken the appropriate upturn.  Don’t I feel like a dumbass for not buying Sony stock before Tuesday?

 Some of you may recall that I did recently make this call here at MediaJerk.  Not that it was a tough call to make.  I don’t recall reading anyone — media insider, blogger, reviewer, whatever — who actually disagreed with my assessment.  I think I’ll have to find something harder to predict if I’m going to toot my own horn here.  Regardless, there you have it.  Sort of a no-brainer, really.

However, the article I cited up-top, courtesy CNBC, does make a semi-interesting point.  Because of the price war between BluRay and HDDVD, suggests writer Boorsten, “this business may be less profitable than [Sony] originally thought.”  I’m not really sure how true that is, though. 

Whenever you deal with new media, the first couple generations of product are priced to cover R&D costs.  With BluRay, the PS3 had an entire generation to deflect these costs.  It’s a granted, I think, that the battle forced Sony to drop the price of BluRay decks before they would have perhaps preferred to do so.  However, to some large extent, Sony had to know that Toshiba and their partners weren’t simply going to bend over for BluRay.  Further, Sony’s experience with Betamax would have prepared them for the eventuality of price warfare.  All of which is to say, I seriously doubt Sony’s going to be hurting financially after this battle. 

It helps to be the only game in town.

Guilty Pleasure, number 2: Zombie fiction

I’ve considered my reasoning for enjoying zombie fiction from every angle.  The truth is, I’m not that big a fan of gore.  There are plenty of gory movies I enjoy — but I don’t watch them for it.  In fact, I’ve often thought I’d have enjoyed George Romero’s “Day of the Dead” a little more had it been less gory.  Strange, considering the subject matter.  So, what, ultimately, is it about zombie movies (and books) that I find so fascinating?

Well, if I’m going to continue my self-psychoanalysis, I suppose I ought to also reveal that I don’t like movies or literature all that much in which the walking dead in question actually talk.  To some extent, I guess, this spoils the concept for me.  I think what it is, is that I find the concept of a soulless human interesting.  I believe in the human soul.  I think it’s part of what makes us who we are.  In fact, I believe it is who we are.  Without it?  Animals, giving in only to instinct.  Hence, the zombie.

 Plus, I just love the hell out of camp horror.

All that said, I am, as you can imagine, waiting with much anticipation the release of the latest Romero film, “Diary of the Dead.”  I still, oddly, haven’t seen “Land of the Dead…” maybe I can make it a twofer.

Obligitory American “Idle” Post for 2008

Okay, first a quick lesson in honesty and political correctness.  This is what happens when Truth is traded for self-esteem:

Look…. I know it might sting, but if your friend really sucks, don’t tell him he sounds like a younger, hipper Frank Sinatra.

Having said that, I’ve decided to throw my hat in the ring, not as the next American Idol, but as the next Simon.  The way I look at it, the guy can’t be long for this world.  You just can’t be forced to sit next to people with next-to no taste telling some snot-nosed reject from a drag choir that, yes, his rendition of Christina Aguilera’s “Beautiful” is exactly the sort of thing this competition needs – and not have serious heart problems.  I mean, no wonder the guy’s such a cranky bastard.

So, since Simon’s heart is bound to give out before too long, I would like to offer my services as the sarcastic and mean old man of the show, charged with the task of injecting at least a semblence of taste into the den of mediocrity that is American Idol. 

And so, as an audition of sorts, I have listed some of the kinds of things I could be expected to say to the horrendous auditioners that are both the plague of Simon and (coincidentally, of course) the only reasons I ever deign to watch the show:

“No, you can’t have another try.  Listening to you suck twice won’t make me change my mind.”

“If the worst thing I’ve ever heard before today is a 1, you’re a negative nine thousand eight.”

“Congratulations… your voice is officially the single worst sound on the planet.”

“Oh, your friends said you sound just like Mariah Carey?  And did these denizens of taste and culture happen to mention whether they were talking about before or after her trip into the bowels of hell?”

“I think you need better friends.  A real friend would do everything in his power to keep you off this show.”

“Have you ever seen one of those commercials where they ram a car at 45 mph into a brick wall?  You sound almost exactly like a bird being eaten by a cat being eaten by a dog being eaten by a hyena that failed to move out of the way of that car.”

“Say… did you ever perform in Jonestown?  Because that might explain a few things.”

And, finally, the ever popular, “What… the … hell … was that?”

And so, when Simon finally is driven to his grave by the vast amount of suck aimed in his general direction, I, Randy “R2″ Streu, humbly offer myself in his stead.