Don’t worry, all of my prior posts are still here and can be found in the Archives to the right.

Sure, Folio Weekly’s 2007 “Best of Jax” edition has come and gone, but there is still a “Best of Jax” award that needs to be handed out…by the Rant Room. That’s right, I’ve taken it upon myself to hand out an annual award for Jacksonville’s Best Local Mustache. There is no vote to be tallied for this award, however, as the winner will be selected exclusively by me (well, that is until I can convince Folio to present the award). While this annual award will most likely be presented to a man, keep in mind that the Rant Room does not discriminate and as a result the Best Mustache Award is in no way limited to men only (put down that wax, ladies!).

The recipient of the inaugural Rich’s Rant Room “Best Local Mustache” Award goes to (drumroll, please) Chris Buck, the local musician/dance instructor pictured at the top left (complete with award-winning mustache).

Visit Buck’s MySpace page to check out more photos of his impressive mustache.

Congratulations, Buck, for winning an award you didn’t even know existed. As for the rest of you, start grooming them there staches for next year’s award!

Go check out two Rant Room favorites, playing together on the same night at the same venue. That’s right, the great Shawn Lightfoot and Laurel Lee will both be playing tonight at London Bridge as part of Brother Lightfoot’s Tuesday Nights at London Bridge series. Making an all-too-infrequent appearance together, this is a show that should not be missed by anyone in this town with a pulse.

The only trophy Al Gore should be going home with is one for Appearing Awkward While Trying to be Hip on Late Night Talk Shows or Rapid Accumulation of Neck Fat.

Today’s Lesson: “The Perfect Formula for Creating an American Hero” or “How to Construct an Historically Relevant Day Off of Work”

stumbling upon the wrong continent via an oceanic vessel + misidentifying and then attacking the natives + abusive ownership of slaves + flippant execution of crew members for disobedience + never actually setting foot on what became U.S. soil = American Hero status + national holiday + the unnecessary closing of government institutions and banks

Class dismissed!

Please, aren’t you sick of these fucking pseudo-hipster characters (or is it caricatures?) who take it upon themselves to shove their simplistic political views down your throat via their boring, shitty music? Now, I am not one of those people who is against celebrities sharing their political views. Rather, I am against talentless celebrities sharing their political views. Besides, the only thing more contrived than Conor Oberst’s music is his pose in the picture on the top left.

I wonder what Lester Bangs would have had to say about this clown had he lived to see him.

Last week, former Jacksonville Jaguar Byron Leftwich was signed by the Atlanta Falcons to be one of their back-up quarterbacks. Many analysts (football analysts, not Freudian psychoanalysts) believe that Lord Byron will eventually take over the starting role for the struggling Falcons. Let me just say that I think it would be hilariously ironic to see the large, lumbering Leftwich try to orchestrate an offense that was designed around the fastest QB in the history of the NFL.

Speaking of the departed and soon to be imprisoned Michael Vick, many who read my page (okay, so it’s just my dad and a few of my friends!) want to know my take on the whole Michael Vick situation since sports and animal rights are a couple of topics that I touch on quite a bit on this page. Well, of course I find the actions of Vick horrific and detestable. This cold-hearted, murdering idiot should be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. If it were up to me, he’d be smothered in artificial bacon grease and thrown to a vicious pack of pissed off, rabid Chihuahua’s who have been temporarily taken away from their mother’s purse and pumped up with steroids, growth hormone, and PCP.

I still think that before we go pointing fingers at this obviously sick individual, we take a look at the slab of meat on our own dinner plates. From an animal’s perspective, is this really any better?

In the specific case of Philips Highway, I think it’s especially important that we get the spelling correct in order to pay proper respect to A. Philip Randolph, a local pioneer in the African-American civil rights movement.

I am so thrilled. I have finally found a Polish beer that I can purchase here in Jacksonville, FL. It is the most internationally popular of the Polish born brews and it is called Zywiec (figures, huh?). It can be purchased at ABC Liquor. Sorry I can’t plug an independent liquor store here…trust me, I LOOKED!

For those who didn’t know, a large percentage of my heritage is Polish (which may explain a lot of things). For some reason, people tend to like alcohols that most closely match those that are associated with their heritage. Genetically speaking, I suppose that makes perfect sense. So, you may not like Zywiec unless your last name has a bunch of superfluous consonants and phonetically makes no sense. But, for what it’s worth, I think the beer tastes fantastic and I recommend you give it a try, regardless of background.

You could even play a fun drinking game on NFL Sunday and chug an entire Zywiec each time The Oakland Raiders’ Polish kicker Sebastian Janikowski misses a field goal. You’re sure to be fucking wasted by halftime. “Seabass,” who somehow graduated from FSU after nearly being deported back to Poland for criminal activity, missed three field goals in last week’s game alone…but his fatass did make a tackle on a kick returner, however.

Although, if you’re a true Pole, you don’t need a game as motivation to drink…you’ll be drinking to suppress your demons.

So, go out and enjoy a Zywiec this weekend my friends!

Damn, if you combine this blog with the blog two entries ago, this site is starting to look like one big advertisement…

With this week’s announcement of the Sept. 18, 2007 release date for the DVD of “We Are Marshall” from Warner Home Video, I have decided to post an unedited version of my Folio Weekly review of the movie, which was originally published around the time that the movie debuted in theaters around the country last December 22nd. So, if you’re debating whether or not to rent this one…

We Are Marshall

Over the decades, sports-themed movies have given us a myriad of mediocrity. Whether it’s comedic takes on the genre such as “Major League,” serious dramas like “Remember the Titans,” or inspirational, underdog-makes-it-big films like “Rudy,” sports movies, much like comic book movies, never quite seem to live up to all of the hype surrounding them. It’s not that the climax of these films are not entertaining, it’s just that a movie filled with the musings of athletes at its focus is about as stimulating as watching, well, a post-game press conference with the musings of athletes at its focus.
“We Are Marshall” is comprised of the things you’ve grown to expect from a formulaic sports movie: lots of back-against-the wall struggles and mistake laden practices backed by a ‘jock jam’ of some sort, with plenty of well timed catch phrases and an awe inspiring speech or two thrown in for good measure. Anything more or less and it wouldn’t really be a sports movie. With that disclaimer in mind, “We Are Marshall” is actually an entertaining movie. Filmed by a director who goes only by McG (“Charlie’s Angels” and TV’s “The O.C.”), the movie uses as its premise the true story of the aftermath of the 1970 plane crash that tragically ended the lives of nearly the entire Marshall University “Thundering Herd” football team. It begins by showing the final game of said team, a rough loss that was not taken lightly, before they board that fatal flight. It portrays that team as strictly managed under the tutelage of a disciplinarian of a coach. Intensely angry after the loss, the coach goes ‘Bill Cower’ (ape-shit) on his team in the locker room and unapologetically declares that “winning is everything” and how they “play the game” means absolutely nothing.
The home of the Marshall Thundering Herd, Huntington, West Virginia, is revealed in the movie to be a town that lives and breathes football. Adults obsessively talk 3-4 defenses and Power-I formations over steaks and drinks in various diners around town while uniformed school children sneak off to listen to the game on their transistor radios in between classes (a nice touch that really dates the movie). So it stands to reason that the loss of the team affects more than just those directly related to team members. Rather than trying to depict the horror that must have ensued inside the plane as the team rapidly descended to their demise, director McG tastefully chooses to subtly imply the plane crash with the screen suddenly going pitch black after a jolt to the aircraft before skipping to the fiery carnage.
Capturing the essence of the grief stricken, 1970’s town of Huntington is where McG does his best work. With a slightly grainy haze over the film that gives it a genuine 1970’s feel, McG utilizes songs by Gordon Lightfoot, America, CCR and Cat Stevens to perfection. Giving virtually every character long sideburns may have been a slight overkill, however—it’s the 70’s, we get it. Some of the intimate moments amongst the townspeople may drag, but you can forgive that given the sensitive subject matter of the reality based film and respect that the director didn’t just quickly brush aside the deaths to get to the action, keeping in mind that many family members of those who were killed in the actual plane crash will most likely be watching the film.
After the period of mourning elapses, a guilt stricken player who missed the flight due to injury, backed by a legion of other Marshall students, successfully urges a reluctant University President Dedmon (an eerie name given the circumstances) to patch something together in time to field a team for the 1971 season. After convincing the NCAA to allow them to play freshman, Dedmon, played by David Straithairn, triumphantly sets the wheels in motion in order to get a 1971 Marshall ready for the upcoming collegiate season. One of the following scenes features a trip to Florida State University, where Mike Pniewski as a young(er) coach Bobby Bowden will most likely be viewed as a travesty by hardcore FSU fans.
It is while assembling this born again Marshall program that Dedmon brings in Coach Jack Lengyel, brilliantly played by Matthew McConaughey. While many other actors could have easily turned this good ol’ boy coach with a 9-33 career record into a caricature, McCaughey was born for roles such as this. McConaughey makes it look natural with simple, aw shucks lines like “maybe I can help” in response to President Dedmon asking him why he would want to coach the devastated Marshall program in the first place. The quirky McConaughey could have pulled off this role in his sleep–think a slightly more mature reprise of his loveable character in Dazed and Confused–and his performance in this movie alone is worth the price of admission. McConaughey’s Coach Lengyel quickly gets to work, rebuilding the Marshall football program, recruiting players one by one and preparing the team for a return to competition. Lengyel’s almost lackadaisical, devil may care approach to coaching is in stark contrast to that of the previous coaching regime, and that appears to be just what the program needed during a period when football may have not have been paramount in minds of the students.
The refreshing aspect of We Are Marshall is that it is not about a team overcoming adversity to win a championship before the obligatory hoisting of the coach on their shoulders (this movie predates Gatorade bucket dousing). After all, this Marshall team only won 2 total games in the 1971 season. Rather, “We Are Marshall” is about a town that came together to cope the best way they new how–making a difficult decision to create a “new” Marshall team while making sure they respected the previous one. In the end, football is less important than it was in the beginning. Sure, the climax of the movie is seeing Marshall win for the first time against Xavier University, but this movie is about a melancholy town rising from the ashes to enjoy themselves and their beloved game once again while putting wins and losses in proper perspective, realizing and almost embracing the fact that they would inevitably be an embarrassment on game day—they lost more games in the 70’s than any other college football team. “We Are Marshall” fully captures the idea that, even in a world overly preoccupied with sports, you don’t need a slew of wins and a trophy to root for something and rejoice as a community; making this movie enjoyable for sports nuts and those not-so-nuts about sports.