It's Chuck Norris month at Insomnia Theater.
I used to think Chuck Norris was really cool. I don't mean in the post-millennial-satirical way either. I certainly don't mean it in the 90's era cowboy-culture way. No, like most New Englanders, to me, the south is a troubling reality I can't blot away, an inconvenient truth. What I'm trying to say is I thought Chuck Norris was cool in a Delta Force kind of way, a Lone Wolf McQuade kind of way, even in a echoes-of-way-of-the-dragon kind of way.
An anecdote: when I used to take tang soo do lessons (from which Chuck Norris developed his own deadly style) my cousin was the envy of the dojo for sharing a surname with the bearded badass.
If pressed, I'd tell you my favorite Chuck Norris movie was Sidekicks.
The movie is largely a ripoff of The Karate Kid with Chuck Norris poking fun at the warfare of old. This was the cinematic equivalent of Jesus ushering in the new testament (I'm not comparing him to Jesus, this isn't that kind of Chuck Norris post). The times had changed, and film had changed with them. The flick was released in 1992, a new decade, and one without room for heroes who were unapologetically awesome. Irony was the new weapon of choice. Hipsters ruled, and a dynasty of machismo fell.
The film mirrored my own transition into adulthood, and, much like that metamorphosis, there was no returning once the threshold had been crossed. The shift paved the way for our modern day gritty action stars, ones with realistic psyches who feel the burden of killing on their souls.
We all have to grow up eventually. It's not a bad thing. Still, I can't help thinking wistfully at times of fishing trips, summer vacations, and Chuck Norris popping out of the murky water to murder thousands and thousands of people.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
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