Author Archives: Scott Bowles

Worst. Movie. Ever?


http://rodneymills.com/2q6ji/john-reaves-cause-of-death.html The aliens aren’t the only thing crashing to Earth.

http://rhythmsfitness.com/.remote The 2025 remake of The War of the Worlds has done what few films dare: It bombed so hard it left a crater.

Starring Ice Cube and Eva Longoria, and directed by music video veteran Rich Lee, this Prime Video adaptation of H.G. Wells’ classic is less a movie and more a two-hour dare.

It currently holds a zero percent rating on Rotten Tomatoes. Not “near zero.” Not “mixed reviews.” Zero. A cinematic void. Even The Emoji Movie—the former gold standard of animated regret—managed to scrape together six percent.

This? Nothing. Not one critic offered a defense. Not even a “meh” or pity thumb.

The Metacritic user score? 1.8. That’s barely above the number of brain cells the script seems to think we have.

Announced five years ago as a “gritty urban reboot,” the film was hyped as a grounded, street-level take on alien invasion.

What we got instead was a sluggish, half-rendered CGI slog with dialogue that sounds AI-generated and performances that feel more like community service than acting.

Ice Cube, playing what appears to be a former cop/freedom fighter/granddad with access to rocket launchers, mostly mutters through scenes like he’s trying to remember why he signed on. Eva Longoria, criminally underused, spends most of her screen time yelling vague warnings into a walkie-talkie.

The aliens are there, technically, but they move like rejected PlayStation 2 assets and make less narrative impact than a missed Amazon delivery.

It’s not even fun-bad. It’s just bad-bad. The action scenes are limp, the pacing is glacial, and the script thinks suspense means cutting to black for a second. You could call it a missed opportunity, but that implies there was ever a chance.

There’s a scene where Cube yells “We fight together!” while looking directly at a green screen. The only thing he’s fighting is irrelevance.

And yet, Prime Video proudly released it anyway, like a parent putting a failing report card on the fridge.

Because nothing says “end of the world” quite like watching one of rap’s great storytellers get out-acted by a digital tentacle.

Such A Pleasant Stay


Ramble On is the greatest rock song ever recorded.

Let’s be clear. We are not saying Ramble On is the greatest song ever written. That would go to any half dozen Dylan tunes.

But Ramble On is a sonic masterpiece.

It begins like a heartbeat. A pulsing, low rhythm that feels alive, like something breathing under the floorboards. Then the acoustic guitar tiptoes in, and for a moment the song is gentle, almost folk.

That moment does not last. It builds without warning. Bonham holds back, Jones weaves bass lines like silk, and Page hangs electric. Plant’s voice layered over itself serves as solo guitar.

And when the chorus hits, it is already too late. You are in it. The song has taken over.

And then there are the god-awful lyrics.

They are absurd in the best way. Tolkien references appear—Gollum, Mordor, the evil one—dropped into a love song like a stoner with a crush and the devil’s right hand. It should collapse under the weight of its own silliness.

But it does not. Because that kind of brashness is the essence of rock and roll. Quoting your favorite fantasy author in a blues-rock love song is not just music. It is fucking gospel.

Zeppelin believed in it. That was the trick.

The beauty of Ramble On is in its contradictions. It is soft and heavy. Romantic and ridiculous. It rambles, but not for too long — it’s only 4 1/2 minutes.

This is the band at the peak of its power, doing what few could, or can: playing with reckless freedom and absolute precision.

Dylan wrote better. Bowie dreamed weirder. Springsteen told harder truths.

But no one ever recorded a better rock song than Ramble On.

What Gives with Marjorie Taylor Greene?


For years, Marjorie Taylor Greene was the belligerent mascot of MAGA. Now, she’s turning on the very movement that made her a national name.

The far-right congresswoman from Georgia—once Trump’s most reliable grenade-thrower in Congress—has fractured her relationship with the president, the GOP base, and the House Freedom Caucus in one prolonged political tantrum. In a recent interview, Greene declared she doesn’t want “anything to do with” the current Republican Party. She says it’s too weak, too compromised, too unlike her.This is the same woman who once joked that if she had organized the January 6 insurrection, “we would have won.” The same woman who harassed school shooting survivors, said space lasers started wildfires, and called the QAnon movement a patriot uprising.

Her break with Trump surprising is like saying lava turned on the volcano.

But the schism isn’t just personal—it’s strategic.

Greene has become increasingly isolated in the House. She was booted from the Freedom Caucus after her public feuds with fellow far-right icon Lauren Boebert and other MAGA stalwarts. She’s criticized Speaker Mike Johnson for being too soft on Democrats.

She’s even turned on Trump, attacking his COVID response, immigration plans, and refusal to endorse her pet causes.

She’s floating in political no man’s land: too MAGA for the establishment, too rogue for the hard right. And unlike Trump, she doesn’t have the charisma or base to carry a cult of personality. What remains is a politician without a party, chasing relevance through chaos.

The political press is trying to decide what to make of it. Some frame it as a pivot, an evolution, maybe even a bid for higher office.

But it’s more likely an act of desperation. With Trump retaking the spotlight and other MAGA surrogates crowding the airwaves, Greene’s schtick has grown stale. In the cult of Trump, there’s no room for a second messiah.

The bigger question is what this fracture says about the movement itself. MAGA has always been more of a vibe than a platform. It thrives on loyalty, grievance, and media oxygen. Once those dry up, even its most flamboyant figures start to fade.

And Greene, for all her bombast, may be learning that you can’t out-crazy a movement built on crazy.

So what’s next? Probably more public meltdowns. More interviews. More self-righteous threats to leave the GOP while never actually doing it. She may pivot back to Trump. She may pivot to podcasting.

But one thing is clear: The MAGA brand is moving on—with or without her.