As part of our continuing service to you, The Correct, we continually find things for you to be in favour of. In our crazy, fast paced, webmanic society, it’s easy to miss something. Our “A Case For” series presents something (a TV show, film, Book, Band etc) that might deserve a look. This week we bring you the awesome Babylon 5.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I submit to you that Babylon 5 was one of, if not THE, greatest science fiction shows of our time. Now, I know you’re thinking “Didn’t you write a list of 35 reasons Babylon 5 rules?” Yes. Well, sort of. But this time, i’m all serious and junk.
an Open Letter to Zack Snyder
You would think it would be the easiest thing in the world to get right, but no one has made a decent Superman movie since the early 80’s. (It’s a fact of SCIENCE!!) Everyone knows what Superman does. Everyone knows what he’s like. And yet, know one seems to be able to get it right. Well The Correctness is here to help, so pay attention …
Well kids, it’s time to cast the big one…Diana, the Amazon who in our Smackdown series somewhat controversially handed Captain America his ass on a shield, as it were. Her powers, like Superman’s, vary wildly depending on who you talk to but there is no doubt about her iconic status and her ability to not only hang with, but occasionally even beat the Big Boys.
The Correctness Casting Couch (finally)presents: Wonder Woman.
Dear Mr. Woodcutter,
I am writing to you seeking compensation for damages to my property and myself, stemming from events of two weeks ago. As you’re no doubt aware, your children, finding themselves lost in the woods, took it upon themselves to vandalize a modern art installation I was working on in the darkest part of the forest. Not that you would be concerned, but my goal was to show the juxtaposition of the innocence and color of candy with the bleakness of the forest.
The above photo is of myself and my new son, Daniel Harrison Binns. On the whole, fatherhood suits me. He shares many of my facial features, yet somehow he manages to make them work for him on a level that I have yet to master. What I have found in my limited time in Daddy’s chair is that the miracle of birth is not actually in birth itself. Rather it lies in the fact that this small creature does everything in its power to make you hate it, screaming, defecating, depriving you of sleep and yet it has the complete opposite effect.
Some of our regular readers know that I am a student teacher, and as such I am surrounded by children who have no idea how offensive or hilarious they are. An example:
Kid: I like your toque, Mr. M! Where did you get it?
Me: Thanks, my mom gave it to me.
Kid: What? I thought your mom was dead!
Me: Not to the best of my knowledge.
A Correctness State of the Union
First, a bit of history.
About a year and a half ago, after some social function or another (I believe it may well have been an evening of Settlers of Catan) just as the man/boy who would become known as Robbie Robtown was heading out my front door, I said to him…
“Hey, we should start an online humor magazine.”
A friend of mine recently suggested that in order to get my long departed groove back, I should try writing erotic fiction. I tried, kind of, then gave up, but this got me thinking: What the hell kind of thing is arousing anyway? What qualifies as a fantasy? The results of my bold new genre of erotic fantasies are below. Spoiler: Some of these stories are so arousing, there isn’t any sex in them at all.
He paused the DVD, and rose from the couch.
“Are you getting up to make a sandwich?” she asked, coyly.
“Yes, I am,” he replied.
“Then let me be direct. Instead of eating a portion of your sandwich when you bring it over here, leaving us both unsatisfied, I would like for you to prepare two separate sandwiches, and I will eat one of them,” she said.
Tears of joy trickled down his face, and when he returned, he brought two more sodas as well.
Bob had spent most of his adult life trying to convince his friends, family and even total strangers that he was not an end table.
She stood in the kitchen, looking out across the expanse of the distant jungle valley as the sun rose. Untold millions of dew drops reflected the red glow of a dawn. Time stopped, and ever so slowly, all of her pain, her hatred, her failures began to evaporate just as the mist in the valley floor did. Through the panoramic windows of her incalculably expensive tropical mountain escape, the light from the sun was reaching her, it felt today, for the first time. Today, there was finally purpose, a reason to go on. For the first time in a decade, she awoke to hope. Hope, a feeling she had come to distrust. Had it not been hope that broken her heart? Had it not been hope that had led her to wait for love to seek her out, and not the other way around?