Good Burger 2: Electric Burgaloo

For Kel So Loved the World…

I recently finished a fine piece of literature, Steve Holland's Good Burger 2 Go. The artistry of this book lies in the very concept itself - Good Burger 2 Go is the novelized sequel to the movie Good Burger, starring Nickelodeon icons Kenan and Kel. That means this book is based on a premised sequel to a movie based on a skit from children's sketch comedy show All That (coincidentally, Holland also wrote the book All That, based on the show. If a book based on a sketch comedy show isn't post-modern art at its finest, then I don't know what is).

What Good Burger 2 Go provides the reader is a whimsical journey through the fast food industry, a spattering of memorable characters and a moving exploration of the developmentally disabled. Holland channels his inner muckraker with a biting expose on the wretch and squalor of the fast food, complete with a broken down manager battling debilitating ulcers, a grotesque mute fry cook and stories of employees working without pants and defiling the shake mixer. Whereas Sinclair's The Jungle used the exploitation of the working class as a foundation for pressing his socialist agenda, Good Burger 2 Go's criticisms of the mentally handicapped in the modern work environment speaks against the dangers of assumed homogeneity and political correctness-driven over-equality in society.

The strength of Holland's writing can be found in his meticulous characterization. With the protagonists Ed and Dexter, Holland delicately balances the frustration and fulfillment of an independent, poverty-line teenager acting as caretaker for an equally support system-less borderline invalid.

While Holland built of the portrayals of Kenan and Kel for these characters, his original characters reveal his subtle touch. Take his introduction of the antagonist in the early parts of the book:

"Harry Hopper's long thin face was set off by a small line of hair that looked like a dead caterpillar perched on his upper lip…His hair was retreating back on his head, and it came to a point right in the middle of his forehead like some kind of neon hair sign that pointed to his face to announce "Bad guy here!"

Holland's supporting characters provide a mouthpiece for societal concerns. The most important of these is a millionaire tycoon entering the early stages of dementia. Realizing just as his mind begins to leave that he will die alone and unloved, Lawrence Hopper III clearly represents a neo-Marxist revelation of the alienating facility of capitalism. Mr. Bailey, the owner of Good Burger is an overstressed shell of a man with failing health, perpetually on the verge of losing everything he's worked for. He presents a face to the dangers of free market enterprise on the individual. Ed's love interest, a French mime, never speaks and is never given a name (referred to only as Mime) in a powerful satirical statement regarding the objectification of women.

The central force of the book remains Ed, and the Of Mice and Men journey taking Dexter and him across the Atlantic Ocean and parts of Europe. In dealing with the mental retardation of his protagonist, Holland includes the uplifting, inspirational and comedic elements of Forrest Gump and The Rain Man. However, he balances these images of Ed's handicap with the dark side of Steinbeck's narrative. Ed unwittingly places the lives of his best friend and love interest in danger throughout the story. He is portrayed as a nonchalant thief, stealing with no thought of the morality of his actions. A chilling flashback, possibly in homage to Lenny's undoing in Of Mice and Men, acknowledges the violent potential of his societal inadequacy:

"…Ed didn’t always hit it off with girls. The last one Ed had gone out with had ended up in the hospital after Ed, mistakenly believing she was an alien sent to take over the earth, grabbed her by the hair and attempted to yank off her 'human mask'"

In providing both sides to the character, Holland's Ed is a sort of open-ended anti-hero, one whom the book spins around as it rockets towards its thrilling conclusion. Holland manages to keep his commentary well disguised by the gripping story, and thus provides an engaging masterpiece. In addition, its lost place as an unmade sequel places an aura of mystique around Good Burger 2 Go, adding a sort of curious appeal. The only downside is the lack of Shaquille O'Neal, a surprisingly small price to pay for literary genius.

Draft Day Dreams

Here's a dream I had last night that pretty much sums up being a Falcons and Hawks fan right now:

It's NFL Draft Day, and most of my sports fan friends and I have procured tickets to the draft. In addition to the usual draft setup, there is a 50-yard football field in the middle of the room. The draft now has a ceremonial kickoff, where members of the teams picking 2-12 kick off to the team with the number one pick. It's basically just for show, and then every team kneels the ball while their front office makes the selection. Well, at this draft the Dolphins botch the kickoff and somehow the Falcons recover, meaning the Falcons get the first kick. Everyone goes crazy, we keep talking about how we could have had as low as the fifth pick if we lost the coin flip, and get excited about Darren McFadden or at the very least Jake Long or Matt Ryan. Then it gets interesting.

Instead of kneeling the ball, the Falcons begin running plays. First they run the ball with Warrick Dunn, which confuses everyone but we assume it was a final carry type deal before taking Run-DMC. Then we throw the ball. Twice. Both plays almost got intercepted, and Falcons fans are hyperventilating while everyone else in attendance looks on with a terrible combination of glee, confusion and pity, like they are watching an 80-year old man boxing a kangaroo. Finally, instead of just making the pick, the Falcons go for it on fourth down. Harrington gets flushed out of the pocket, starts running backwards and falls down with the ball in the endzone. He crawls backwards and gets one inch from a safety before someone falls on him.

I'm not sure what the safety would have meant for our draft pick, but we know that turning the ball over on downs means a team either loses a pick or goes back to their original pick if there was trade or kickoff recovery. As we begin to panic, word comes over the PA system and big screen that they are reviewing whether the Falcons got the pick in on time, seconds before the Dolphins downed Harrington for the safety. After a tense couple of minutes, they announce that the pick was sent in time and the Falcons keep their number one selection - who turns out to be cornerback with character issues named Dave Dubious. He was expected to go with the 7th-9th pick. We become catatonic at the stupidity of this selection and slowly gather our bags and leave. When we get to the exit we see a man who works for ESPN hauling in big back of spinach, lettuce and kale. We ask him what it's for, and he replies that his job is to throw it at fans of teams that make stupid picks. Sure enough, he starts grabbing handfuls of salad and hurling them at the remaining Falcons fans as we trudge away.

What struck me about this dream was that, as surreal as parts of it were, I still woke up with a tinge doubt as to whether it had happened or not. Granted this is more the Hawk's responsibility (honestly, if it had been about the Hawks I would have had to google Dave Dubious in a panic the second I woke up), but both teams have crushed my spirits so low that my mind was able to conceive such an event happening. I can't say I'd be truly surprised if McFadden (plausibly) fell to the Falcons and we took Matt Ryan instead? And talking about Hawks drafts makes me so irrationally depressed and angry that lose the capability for human interaction if I dwell on it for too long.

What I think I'm trying to say is that if the Falcons take Matt Ryan and the Hawks miss the playoffs, then I will rely entirely on a successful season from the Braves to retain my mental health and well-being. It's all up to you, Mark Kotsay.

Kevin Hart: LIAR!

College football’s National Signing Day has passed and the biggest victory wasn’t Alabama landing Julio Jones or Miami landing everyone else. These were big, but the true winner was every sports fan with a sense of comedic justice landing Kevin Hart. If you missed it, watch any Sportscenter for the next week or just catch the online story here.

What we have is a big shot football player at a tiny school who was vigorously recruited by major universities around the area, soon narrowing his list to Oregon and Cal. He made his dramatic decision in a packed gymnasium, using the clichéd “two hats” approach, picking the Cal hat and explaining that Jeff Tedford’s personal touch won him over in the recruiting battle. All well and good, until a slight catch was revealed in his plan. That catch? Hart made it all the fuck up.

Now, ESPN is playing the story as a side-product of the extravagant recruiting atmosphere and signing day hoopla that turns high school stars into local celebrities every February. Some accounts go so far as to very subtly imply that Kevin Hart may be a sympathetic character in all this, a kid who “just wanted to be wanted.” What we should be doing is celebrating a win for everyone who hates self-inflating liars, delusional athletes and chinstrap beards.

Anyone who went to public high school has known a Kevin Hart. Sure, he was the first to take it to this extreme, but you know the type. The cocky athlete who seemed to honestly believe he was going to play professional sports despite the fact that he was rarely one of the better players on the floor. The pathological liar who spun web after web of preposterous false-truths. The douchebag with the chinstrap beard. I mean, have you ever really liked anyone with a chinstrap beard? I haven’t. It’s the facial hair equivalent of the barbed-wire arm tattoo.

Well, he is all of these wrapped in one. And finally, that guy has been humiliated. What’s more, he’s been humiliated not just publicly, but nationally. The scope of this thing makes me think higher powers were at work. Kevin Hart has been humiliated at this enormous scale not just for Kevin Hart’s sins, but for the fibs and fantasies of every Kevin Hart in every high school and college campus across the nation. He lied for attention, out of his own arrogance, and now must deal, very publicly, with the ramifications of his idiotic attempt to construct his own legend. And, to quote Dr. Seuss, “It should be, it SHOULD be, it should be like that.”