It's the kind of film that punctuates its jump cuts with drum beats and flashing lights. The kind of film that shows the same snippets of destruction several times in various montages, because those images of fire are so cool. The kind of film that makes a big deal of explaining that the legendarily lethal "Electro Magnetic Pulse" is "a pulse of electro-magnetism" because that explains everything. It seems the worst thing that can happen in an atomic attack is to have an A-Bomb blow up in the upper atmosphere. It doesn't necessarily kill you, but it might stop your blackberry from texting which as everyone knows is almost as bad as waterboarding. SO, the best way to avoid having them blow up their H-bomb in the upper atmosphere is " to blow it up ourselves.
Unfortunately for the Heritage Foundation and the artistes behind this work of cinema, the film's final hellish invention fails, an attempt to present George Bush as a man of vision and integrity who also wants to sell you this umpteen trillion dollar missile system and we should buy it because he is a man of integrity. Anytime your argument depends on George W. Bush's image as a wise statesman, the project's in trouble.
As 33 Minutes enfolds itself into its final moments of flag waving and Lady Liberty kissing, the serious, earnest narrator implores us to dig deep, to save our souls from such hell. Remember, "You can't put a price on people's lives," " except of course when it comes to paying for their universal healthcare.
Luckily for us all this particular overlong episode of the two minute's hate left us with its own justification to pull the plug on Franks' latest missile defense boondoggle and the ad campaign, he's working so hard to star in. As the narrator explains, "If America is constricted by fear, then all is lost."
I agree.
Stay Tuned for Part Three: The Right Jeremiah
--mikel weisser writes from the left coast of AZ.
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