Early in the week I usually look for suicide videos to post, and I was thrilled when I found this one. Unexpected spoiler alert: the “man” survives, and thereby sets a new standard for beating the rural blahs. Look out, Crystal Meth!

We’re showing you this 50% because it’s awesome and 50% as a warning not to ever try such nonsense against us.  This guy handles it about as well as anyone could.  Anything remotely similar will be met with immediate disciplinary action, most likely death/maiming by shiv.

The shiv originally owned by Shiva the Destroyer, or Shiva the Transformer, depending on the publicist.

Anyway, here it is:

Also, it is absolutely critical that you watch to the very end…

Who dat host?

While irreparably paranoid here at BuRockracy, we’re not huge on conspiracy theories or theorems.  However, one is very troubling indeed: the theory that Tilda Swinton is actually Thom Yorke’s most avant-garde solo project (you know Johnny Greenwood wouldn’t stand for Swinton on a Radiohead album).   Behold!

"No surprises, please," you say, Thom? We would ask the same of you!

"What's a 'Radiohead'? Preposterous!"

 We’ve never seen them together at the same time, and we see them separately all the time.  We’ve even been camping with each of them, on consecutive weekends, in the same backyard. Camping with Thom Yorke is eerily similar to camping with Tilda Swinton.  It’s basically 48 hours of blood sausage on a skillet.  We would say “bravo” to Yorke for pulling it off, but then, he claims his inspiration is beamed to him by aliens, so we’ll just congratulate ourselves for figuring it out.

International Beer Day was yesterday, apparently.  According to their Wikipedia page, it started in Santa Cruz in ’07  (pronounced “ought seven”).  We’re not sure where Santa Cruz got those kind of balls, but good on them for making the claim.  We here at BuRockracy suggest making it October 1st, which is Jimmy Carter’s birthday.  He was instrumental in helping small breweries make a comeback.  He also legalized homebrewing. 

"History's greatest monster?" Probably. ...but he legalized homebrewing!

In most cases, I would pretend to jump for joy when a soft-talent starlet returns from a publicist-advised ”retirement”, but in Amanda Bynes’ case, I completed depleted my sarcasm reservoirs when she “quit” one whole goddamn month ago.  I’ve had no real time to replenish these reserves, and therefore all that can be said is that I hope Amanda Bynes will do the right thing: fart out a few more half-assed films and fade off into reality TV/Softcore porn.

This is not news, folks.  Celebrities never go away until they die, and even then often end up somehow singing duets with their living daughters (I’m looking at you, Natalie Cole).  We should know that by now.  Gary Coleman’s been dead now for much longer than anyone expected, and yet nobody talks about that.  How is that not news?

Hey, we're ALL exhausted, Bynes.

Check out the new world’s strongest beer.  

There is something of an arms race among craft brewers these days to see who can produce the highest alcohol beer.  Dogfish Head and Sam Adams have been going back and forth with their 120-minute IPA’s and Utopias (Utopiae?) respectively, but it looks like those Scottish gits at Brewdog have raised the bar and then snapped it over their soggy knees:

http://gawker.com/5594399/the-end-of-history-ale-the-worlds-strongest-beer-comes-inside-a-dead-squirrel

I like the idea of recycling roadkill.  Also this article is nice because it shows how far the Pound has fallen against the Dollar.

What happened next, of course, is history.

Spider-Man turns 48 in about a week (he first appeared in Amazing Fantasy #15 in August, 1962 – we’re assuming to fight communists).  That’s right: the web-slinger’s 48!  While the following aging technology may not be perfect, the real Peter Parker of 2010 might look something like this:

"I'll watch your car for 2 hours for $20. Web is extra."

 Ah, the ravages of age!

BuRockracy would like to wish you all a fertile Midsummer.  Take this time today to smell the air around you, gorge on headcheese, sweetmeats and ale, and perhaps even kiss one of your concubines.  At the very least, you should let them out into the backyard.

We would also like to remind you that the wood-faeries are coming for each of us tonight.  They will bless you with fertility, cleanse your house of unclean spirits, and probably steal your car keys.  Try to pretend you’re asleep.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

Julliard Graduate Albert Predatormann

Here at buROCKracy, we are enamored of films in which helpless humans are slaughtered in the woods by an invisible, unstoppable force. It should not surprise you, then, to hear that 1987 real-time documentary Predator, starring Arnold Schwarzenegger is the only film we’ve ever been able to sit all the way through together without getting into very damaging fist/piss fights.

Well, in honor of Robert Rodriguez’ new Predators , buROCKracy will once again shun the summer sun and sit down to our favorite movie today. But after Predator “I”, we’re not going to stop: we’re going to watch the sequel. Appropriately named Predator II, it stars Danny Glover and Albert Predatormann reprising his role as the Predator. We haven’t tried this before, but we will have the aid of copious amounts of beer, which should help. It should be a lark, so long as Bruce doesn’t start immediately masturbating at the sight of his hero, Danny Glover, whom he calls “D-Glove” (you should see Bruce’s room – covered in Danny Glover posters, piggy-banks, and other assorted Gloverabilia).

We’ll see how it goes and who knows? Maybe we’ll head out and catch the new “Predators” flick, wherein Robert Rodriguez begs the question “What if Adrian Brodie got a personal trainer and then we tried to kill him in space?” I’ve often wondered that myself, so I’m personally intrigued.

Anyway, I defy ye to plan a better Saturday.