Stabbed in the Neck!

This blog has become irrelevant. KW2 premiered more than a year ago. Chris, Scott and I no longer work together, but remain fast friends and always will. The DVD release became a de facto target date for terminating this wretched exercise, but a stay of execution was granted until September (the idea being that our core audience would return to school and buy up the remaining copies).

So these are the final posts. It's decided. Expect a special sign-off from Scott, and perhaps a couple surprises. And that's that. Chapter The Last.

As killerweedmovie.blogspot.com marches slowly, proudly to death, it's a prescient analogy to my private life, as I was recently...

STABBED IN THE NECK!
This is a true story. Thursday, August 23rd I was returning camera gear and production supplies for a commercial I'd crewed the day before. Easy-peasy, finished around 11:30 am and by noon I was gassing up my cube truck before returning it to the rental place across the street. Some hood was loitering by the gas pumps, and I should've known by his demeanor that he wasn't there to buy ho-hos. He seemed to have his dark eyes trained on anything and everything, looking for an easy mark.

I tried ignoring him as I stood by the pump. But the kid approached me, muttering something I couldn't hear. I leaned in, asking him what he was selling, and this time heard quite clearly his words:
"You got three seconds to give me your money, fool!"
I noticed a triangular box cutter in his left hand. Instantly, (or almost instantly, but clearly in blatant violation of the stipulated three-second grace period) he rammed the blade in my neck! I was shanked!

The little punk turned and fled. Standing there, stunned, wondering if this indeed just happened, wondering if I'm about to die, my life flashed before my eyes...

age 2: growing cynical, disillusioned with world after onset of potty-training
age 6: aloof, distant from peers; already balding
age 9: swore off knee-length shorts forever
age 12: frequent erections
age 14: feeling blue in wake of Brown/Goldman murders
age 18: slept in a lot
age 19-26: gave shorts another shot and found them comfy
age 27: stabbed in the neck!

Snapping to my senses, I realized swift action was in order. Now, one would think that by telling a gas station clerk you'd just been chibbed in his parking lot, his next move would be to dial 9-1-1. Thanks to the helpful bystander who got that train in motion, because I wasn't in any condition to field details. But never lost consciousness. Never saw a white light. Never saw my grandfather telling me my time wasn't up yet. Just as well 'cause I would've told him to go back to playing canasta with JFK and Robert Reed. My work here's not done.

Fire department came. Paramedics. Police. Had to give the story a hundred times over. Went to the Cedar Sinai's E.R. where they patched me up. Stayed overnight for observation, got an I.V. drip and I have to say, I'm considering getting one for private use. Not for any medical reason, mainly as a time-saver and nutritional failsafe.

Two stitches later, I'm back home and nearly 100 percent. Everyone says I'm extremely lucky. So far no news on my assailant, and it's likely they'll never catch him, the bastard. But criminals take heed, for justice has a new face...

If I've learned anything this week, it's that I'm impervious to injury! So I'm in the exploratory phases of forming a meta-human action squad purposed with finding, capturing, and paralyzing the piece of shit who did this to me. I'm not kidding, you dirtbag; I'm going to put your brain in a sling. Expect full-blown retaliation from my team, a sweeping bushwhack blitzkrieg on your friends, family, your family friends, acquaintances, pets and plants, your extended family and any overseas relations. Then we'll dig up your ancestors and smash their bones with a hammer-claw. And when there's no one in your scum-ridden gene pool left to defile, we'll track you to the depths of Tartarus and join Satan in pouring scalding porridge in your rectum.

signing off,
Matt

KW2 Insinuates Itself Into Comi-Con!

Anyone with an ear to the tracks know that San Diego hosted the 27th annual Comi-Con this weekend. A magical gathering where dork meets dweeb, nerd meets geek, and dork-geek hybrids co-mingle with dweeb-nerd hybrids all vying for coveted spaz status; where fantasy is king and the kingdom is thriving.

Despite having lived in Southern California for four years, this was my first outing to Comi-Con. Joining me in the adventure was Chris Merritt, his girlfriend Tallie, and my future brother-in-law Doug (down from Sacramento). We went Saturday only, which wasn't nearly enough time to drink in all the costumes, booths, panels and celebrities, but we made the most of our time.

RESISTANCE IS FUTILE
We'd barely entered the showroom before I was accosted by a Klingon Borg and assimilated, becoming half-man, half-machine. Just as well, because I was feeling out of place amid all the costumed revelers, and the eyepiece afforded a certain amount of camouflage. Resistance really is futile in such an environment; you can be a casual fan of sci-fi or manga or whatever, but seeing these people, you just want to belong, to have as much fun as they're having, to visit the extreme if only for a while.

Early on I found myself correcting some idiot behind a table as to the association of the Borg with the Star Trek franchise as opposed to Star Wars. I was at home all right.

ENGLUSH TEA
For most of my adult life I've been told I bear an uncanny resemblance to Robert Englund. And there he was at Booth 814 signing autographs. I idled up to meet him, understandably alarming the security detail on quipping that he might be my biological father. But they let me through and I was able to shake Freddy Krueger's hand and tell him what I'd always been told: that he was either A) my dad; or B) my extra-dimensional counterpart. He didn't seem to care; he was more interested in shilling new projects like the Nightmare on Elm Street prequel. I tell you, if not for advances in reverse-aging makeup techniques, that'd be me playing young Krueger. Perhaps I should have taken this opportunity to slip strychnine in his tea and offer my services to Newline as heir to the throne.

Legal disclaimer: The above is a joke. No harm will come to Robert Englund.

GEORGE TAKEI THINKS WE'RE GAY
Easily the funniest story from Saturday came when waiting in line to meet George Takei of "Sulu" and The Green Berets fame, late of Heroes. Both Chris and I are huge Star Trek goons. Chris purchased the requisite photo for autographing and I tagged along just to meet the man. We listened as Takei spoke with someone about how fat his partner was getting. (He came out of the closet last year, you know. Glad he has that kind of moral courage, much as Sulu did in helping the renegade Enterprise from his captain's chair on the Excelsior in Star Trek VI!)

Takei gave a full minute-plus account of how his boyfriend was ballooning, citing menu items and junk-food favorites. Chris and I ate this up; he was every bit as jolly and easy-going as his Howard Stern appearances would lead one to believe. Finally, Chris got his turn in line, and Takei turned Chris' obvious glee around on him, saying "It's certainly an honor to meet you too, Chris. Oh my." I piped up, saying, "I'm with Chris and just wanted to say hello." This stirred his soul, Takei responding in his characteristic baritone, "Oh, you're with Chris; weeell, I'm glaaaaad to hear thaaat!" with resounding verve and suggestive enthusiasm. Although Chris picked up on it right away, I was too starstruck to realize: George Takei thought we were lovers! We laughed about this for hours after, and on the car ride home, imitating his voice and playing with the action figure Chris had been given for his efforts. In retrospect, we'd likely have taken him up on a threesome.

PUSHING "KILLER WEED"
Part of our goal at Comi-Con was finding a like-minded demographic to whom we could sell our abundance of KW2 DVDs. It quickly became apparent that no right-minded convention-goer would drop cash on our shitty little movie when there was plentiful "real" merchandise to be bought from established franchises. Chris and I staid up 'til 5 a.m. the morning before assembling double-disc sets, only to find ourselves giving them away. But not to just anybody.

We scouted the events book for panels featuring celebs in tune with our comic sensibilities, narrowing it down to forums likely to be sparsely crowded and conducive to rushing the stage for autographs and hand-shaking. I played my hand very shrewdly, visiting certain meeting rooms toward the end of discussion, then prying through the audience to get to panelists and moderators. Chris and I met writer/director Steve Oedekerk (Back in the Barnyard, Kung Pow! Legend of the Fist) whereupon I hailed him as an easy favorite when it came to shaping my comedic upbringing. He was the most gracious and welcoming man, very nice, and even asked me my name when I handed off the complimentary dvd.

Opportunity knocked when I happened upon Seth Green darting around between booths, less a celebrity in this moment, more a Comi-Con ticket holder trying to enjoy himself. Chris was impressed with the ease with which I slithered through the crowd, which was mobbing him for photos, eating up his time as he tried to get to some event or other. I made it brief, simply lauding his work on Greg the Bunny and Robot Chicken and handing off our movie. He was gracious if not grateful, perhaps a little surprised that someone was attempting to give rather than take.

The third hand-off was to Mike Nelson (of Mystery Science Theater 3000 fame, now making movies with The Film Crew). He and the other two modern MST3k guys were holding court in a room not too far away from a Troma Films panel, the two overlapping by about 30 minutes. I joined Troma for the first portion, watching clips and watching the clock, waiting for the moment I would slip away and into the Film Crew panel. Getting in took a bit of conniving, as security wouldn't let me in through the exit, nor the entrance. I ultimately went back to the exit, convinced the doorman that I was trying to return to the room after a hasty bathroom break, got a reentry pass and gained access through the front doors right as the questioning was ending. I fought my way up to the stage, intending to bestow copies unto all three members, but was only able to catch Nelson at the door. In 15 seconds I told him how influential MST3k had been on me; how I'd like him to take my movie as a return on all the laughs he'd provided over the years. He seemed pleased and appreciative.

Then it was back to Room 1A for the second half of Troma. I tried to ask a question (re: "Pot Zombies") but was curtailed. However, nothing would stop me from walking up to Lloyd Kauffman (Troma Films dictator-for-life) and getting KW2 into his hands. Nothing but Kauffman, that is. Doug asked him for a picture, and we literally had to chase him all over the room as he said his goodbyes to other Troma-ites to get it. He never forgot about us and as an added bonus even pulled Rose Ghavami (star of the upcoming Poultrygeist) into frame. Made my day.

Possibly, some handouts will wind up in the landfill. But it's the thrill that counts. Altogether, a very fulfilling Comi-Con.

Matt

Real 8-Toe'd Joe To Review KW2? No.

Received an unexpected call today from the real 8-Toe'd Joe, which is a rare treat considering his tarnished past with phones. The guy is hopelessly unable to hold on to a cell. He routinely loses them within six months of purchase, gets a replacement, changes the number, leaves a message on the old line giving a new number, but again loses his phone, gradually resulting in a second message while the first one remains unchanged. And to Joe, the internet is as deep a mystery as quantum mechanics, inexplicable like magic, or fire. Keeping in touch is difficult.

But he retains my number, clearly, and rings me periodically when he's Alabama-bound. He caught me up on how he's moved back to Decatur; how his main squeeze tried to run him down with her car and he fled Louisiana. Typical stuff.

He inquired as to whether or not I'd be blazing through Alabama anytime soon, and I let him down easy. As I spilled the news that "Killer Weed 2" saw DVD release last month, I suddenly realized a glaring oversight. We've shipped DVDs to all principal cast and other contributors like musician Chris Johnson. I was assembling a package for uber-musician Metronome Mike (who remixed our main theme) when 8-Toe'd Joe rang. How could I forget the man himself?

8-Toe'd Joe (pronounced [/ˈʃʊərli, ˈʃɜr-/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunjon·shur·lee]) inspired the one-shot comic "8-Toe'd Joe & The Army of Toes" and became the template for both a hero in KW1 and a villain in KW2. But foremost, he's a friend. I relish memories of him grinning from behind his partial tooth apparatus, rolling cigarettes, drinking bootleg rum from a jar or carton. Making bongs from his own lung. Entertaining in his sedan-come-living-room. Waving his crutch at the motion-sensitive garage light to keep it on. Mowing off his frickin' toes while tending the lawn. That's Joe.

Well, I've got to make this right. I'll drop something in the mail on Monday. But he loses everything (phones, keys, his toes), so it's necessary to send two copies: one for Joe and one for Joe to misplace.

Matt

Yellowhammered

Leading up to its demise in January, Wm. Moses Prods. maintained an informal working relationship with Yellowhammer Films. They crewed the puppet scene at the end of KW2, and Joe Borden (YH actor/writer/producer) got big laughs for his turn as our blind Soothsayer.

Meanwhile Joe and company have kept busy with (literally) dozens of shorts; shorts to end all shorts, as in prepare-to-soak-your-shorts shorts, including the epic "Stacheman" (edited by Scott Draper). I've made appearances in maybe half of these, and continue to do so. One hand washes the other.

Recent example: "THE DUEL" (written/directed by Ben Morehead; starring Jim Patton and myself) is currently WALKING TALL at FunnyOrDie.com and has even garnered a special mention from the site administrator or something.

Frivolous pop cultural wish-wash? Or a well-disguised allegory for the Ugandan Civil War?

THE DUEL/KILLER WEED CROSSOVER EVENT?

A week later we gathered at one of the usual spots to shoot "Zombie Roommate". I was tapped to play the title character. Earlier in the week I constructed a full face appliance, form-fitted to my leathery mug courtesy of the plaster face cast I've had since KW1. I built up the usual clay mask, pinching out lesions and fleshy protrusions, eventually coating it with layers of liquid latex. Powdered it, painted it, plugged up the insides with cotton, and shazam. My zombie mirror self.

Because the mask ended mid-way up my mutant forehead, it was important to cast smaller supplemental appliances meant to attach around the temple, neck and ears. Tied together with thick makeup and latex smears, voilà, a fairly convincing zombie.


Watch "ZOMBIE ROOMMATE" here:

I see the braying masses have already leveled some complaints:

What a bunch of ladies. First of all, Trevor Christian ignores a rich theatrical tradition of zombies in comedy, dating back to the plays of Aristophanes and even Euripedes the noted tragedian. It's an artform as time-honored and indelible as fart noises (another Aristophanes innovation).

Second, "Zombie Priest, Zombie Bus Driver, Zombie Mom"?? Those sound like good movies! I would pay to see those movies; or, if not yet made, I would make them. Jake2223, your sarcasm is not appreciated.*

Matt
*NOTE: Outrageous claims and opinions expressed by the writer are his own and do not represent the views of Yellowhammer Films.

4 Reasons To Buy "Killer Weed 2" on DVD

1. You can't buy it on VHS.
2. The original "Killer Weed" is part of the package! Devotees can warm up on KW1 then cruise fully caught-up into KW2, stopping only for beer runs, smoking, and the occasional poon party!
3. It's several dozens of minutes of entertainment. Think of the gas you'll save while watching all the bonus features. With repeat viewings that becomes a staggering value.
4. You will be more popular. Once people realize you've sprung for le package totale they will totally have a hard-on for you. Women will want you. If you're already a woman, men will want you, particularly if they can't have you. Be patient, ladies. Make them wait. Watch "Killer Weed 2" in the meantime.

To order, email killerweedmovie@gmail.com and put 'PURCHASE' in the subject line. Or, for our friends on Myspace, message us at myspace.com/killerweedmovie -- Matt

Santa's Sweatshop

Director Chris and I spent the entire weekend cranking out the official "Killer Weed 2" DVDs, over a 150 units in various stages of completion. Twenty of which have shipped to vendors in Tuscaloosa, Alabama, available Thursday May 17th at:

Oz Music /506 14th Street / (205) 758- 1222
Egan's Bar / 1229 University Blvd. / (205) 758-9413

The process broke down like so. Chris and I staged in my home office. Scott got on loan a magic DVD-making machine; a wondrifical scientagorical device capable of burning seven copies at once. I fed it blank media at strictly regimented intervals for two days straight, and even after all that time I still have no idea how it works. My best guess: The duplicator contains a pocket universe, an extra-dimensional expanse complete with a tiny society possessing heightened intellect, resources and moral acuity. Had I a little more time, I would have no doubt become their leader, possibly their god.

Chris did quality control, running each disc through a player and checking the menus and video. In between he'd be stacking, sorting and labeling. Not exactly glamorous work. I printed off the labels and jackets, occasionally helping stuff cases, but still pulling duty on the duplicator. The arrangement felt extremely efficient, until after 40 hours' work we realized we'd completed only 10 units. We did however drink two cases of beer. Possibly some causation there.

So we double-timed it, double-teamed it, tag-teamed it, double-tag-teamed it, tag-double-timed it, double-dog-dared it and by Monday morning we had close to 30 units. Still not a lot, but enough for cast/crew freebies and the initial vendor orders.

But I ran the (micro-utopian) duplicator constantly, knowing my time with it was short. The result: Approximately 300 discs! 150 K-discs and 150 W-discs! Over 37,500 hours of "Killer Weed" and KW behind the scenes bullshit! This quite likely had the effect of corrupting that tiny society inside the duplicator. It's a very influential movie!

Between cycles Chris and I collaborated on some posters intended to hang around Tuscaloosa. I already had the needed elements in Photoshop, so we tossed it together and Chris had it printed the same day. He even squeezed off a stack to one of his operatives back east, to be plastered on unauthorized surfaces any day now.

Unfortunately, our timing couldn't be worse. Spring Semester at U. of Alabama ended last week. Much of our fan-base has eroded in the year since the Jupiter premiere. Some have graduated, others have dropped out and moved off. Some fans remained loyal, others less so. Others watched "Killer Weed" while stoned on killer weed and can't remember if they liked it or not.

Hopefully our new Myspace component can help with that. Chris spent some of his QC time on his laptop, laboriously fiddling with codes and templates, trying to put together a presentable profile. Mixed results. Longtime KW contributor Tim Ros has been enlisted for guidance.

Matt

KW2 DVDs Are Here!!

Is this a dream? Exactly three years have passed since "Killer Weed 2" became our dark mistress; Chris holds in his hand the completed 2-disc DVD release! Available for purchase at two out of the way locations!

Each double disc set contains:

• newly polished 53-minute cut of KW2!
  
• docutainment featurette "The Making Of Killer Weed 2"!
• the original "Killer Weed" (42 min)
  
• bonus materials and leftover crap!
  
• easter eggs! You'll never ever find them!
  
• fresh, sick DVD menus "cool"-tested on today's hip youth!

Details pending...

Post Production Stress Disorder

After ages of setbacks, confusion, indecision and infighting, "Killer Weed 2" is finally coming to DVD. Editor Scott has made significant changes to the existing cut, polishing effects and mastering audio, generally cleaning it up and easing clarity. He's compressed the bonus materials and authored the menus, so in a few short weeks we'll go into full-blown distribution mode. Updates to come.

Matt

Poster Proof

Ghoul School

Online and scimming the University of Alabama's student newspaper the other day, I happened upon a very interesting article. Apparently a faculty member from the English Department will teach an interim course devoted entirely to zombies. Devoted to learning about zombies, that is, not to teaching zombies new skills. God help us should they get any smarter than they already are.

Zombies! The Living Dead in Literature, Film and Culture (EN 311-001) will chart our fascination with the undead from their emergence in occult voo doo weirdness to their evolution as "fictional" devices and rapid rise as staples of pop-culture. Instructor Sean Hoade plans to offer every perspective out there, with attention to our shared subconscious fear of all things dead and undead.

This is a great idea. Wish they'd had something like this when I was there; I would've eaten it up like so many human entrails. Which they'll actually be doing. Hoade hopes to mimick the act of cannibalism with things like Jell-O brains (Bill Cosby's brain?) and flesh-flavored tofu (soy rack of Bill Cosby?).

Another class activity that sounds fun is loping around campus in full zombie makeup, moaning and lurching at "prey." Indeed, this could be a blast, but may just as likely lead to injuries and/or lawsuits as some grade-grubbers will undoubtedly take the matter too far and start biting with abandon. This is how Hepatitis spreads, people.

Still, the course premise is so strong it could easily expand into a semester-long affair. Hell, why stop there? How many young people know the basics for surviving an attack, like how to operate a shotgun or sucking the poison out of a zombie bite? My opinion: Form an entirely new Department of Zombology, purposed with defining, understanding, and combatting this long-ignored menace. Develop fields of study like zombie psychology, pathology, astrology and linguistics. Perhaps in the future, being pre-zombie will carry the same status as being pre-law or pre-med, and internships in zombie study centers and detention camps will be the norm.

Until then, this class is man's last best hope.

Matt