Self-Immolation: In which I single-handedly destroy credibility

Specifically, by providing an exceptional rant for the ages...courtesy of serial guest Atlas. See, he's provided me with a metric shit ton of this:

So I am providing an opening for a bit of rage, directed with tremendous vigor at this bird, made relevant by today's passing of the actress that portrayed Rose's latter years during this sentimental 90's shit:

Buckle up:


  1. I have fairly trembled with rage the entire day, since hearing of the death of Gloria Stuart, the ancient actress who played the banshee "Rose" in the Jim Cameron farce, Titanic. This should have brought me pleasure considering my distaste for the character, but instead came fury as it brought back memories of the sour taste turned bitter bile in my mouth when I first saw this turd of a movie.

    We all know the story. Rose, a headstrong trophy bride-to-be, Jack an artist with pure heart who rescues her from a torturous courtship with handsome Billy Zane. They consummate their love by going “heels to Jesus” in the back of a Model T found as they lustily wandered the bowels of the doomed ship. Truly a task for the primitive suspension on the car as Rose alone is quite the payload. Yeah, I said it.

    Now it’s true that Rose, especially, has no respect for the property of others…witness her flippant disposal of the obnoxious diamond, the sole purpose of the voyage that would bring her withered carcass back within spirit-fucking distance of Jack, and of course the above-mentioned fouling of the back seat of the Model T. This outrageous behavior alone is cause enough for my dislike of this woman, but still there is more.

    Now I know that the girls all love it. They all love Rose. They all want to be her, they all think she a princess, and they all want to experience a love like hers and Jacks so true and timeless…and secret. It was something she kept to herself, never sharing her story with her friends, her children, or her grandchildren, or anyone else. She never let anyone know that she held such love, devotion, and passion--and a priceless jewel--so dear that she would keep it within her to her dying day. And beyond.

    Clearly her secret was a burden, held since her voyage aboard Titanic. She was compelled to reveal the whole sordid affair as she and her family sailed to the waters above the rusting hulk’s location. She recounts with wondrous detail the sites and sounds from her memory. She speaks longingly of Jack and their love. But why? But why at death’s door does she reveal her secret? Did she know that hours later she would be swept back to the Titanic to spend eternity with Jack, and others lost aboard the wreck? Was this her final goodbye to her family as she passed into the beyond? Did she tell them so they could retell the story themselves? Maybe so they could pass the word on to someone else whom she doesn’t have the stones to tell herself?

    Here is another fairy tale about another devoted soul willing to wait an eternity to be reunited with his love. You know, the next one. We don’t know his name. Let’s call him Mr. Rose…the father of Rose’s children, the grandfather to theirs. Let me tell you of a kind old man who when he was younger took BBL in, made her his wife, and with her made a family. Certainly the children were not Jack’s. Rose didn’t refer to Jack as “your father” in her story telling to her daughter. There he stands, having preceded her in death, waiting years for Rose to come to him, waiting perhaps under the lovely tree where he first ask for her hand, in that lush, green field.

  2. Maybe Jim Cameron could have filmed it following Rose’s return to “Ghost Jack” as such…

    Ext. Dusk overhead.
    Mr. Rose stands alone under a weeping willow, whistling "My Heart Will Go On" as he is surrounded by a light mist.
    Mr. Rose: “Boy, sure been waiting a long time to see my sweet Rose again. Reckon its been about 25 years. Surely The Lord will bring her back to me someday soon!”
    Fades to Black

    Ext. Dusk overhead
    Mr. Rose leans against the same tree, twiddling his thumbs.
    Mr. Rose: “Oh how blessed sweet Rose must be to have such a long life. She must be 100 years old by now! I can’t wait to see her again, and spend precious eternity together!”
    Fades to Black

    Ext Dusk overhead
    Mr. Rose is pacing under the tree when he sees someone approaching from far-off…a feminine figure. He smiles as the figure becomes clearer as it emerges from the mist.
    Mr. Rose: “Rose!? Is that you? Finally after these long years we can be together forever!”

    Mr. Rose expression turns confused as he sees the woman approaching is his and Rose’s daughter, Lizzie.
    Mr. Rose: “Lizzie? Is that you? I expected to see your mother before you. I have been waiting 125 years for her!”
    Lizzie: “Oh, hey dad. Mom’s not coming. She ran off with that guy she fucked at Spring Break.”
    Mr. Rose: “Son-of-a!”
    Fades to Black

    Look, if Rose decides she wants to fart around the afterlife with Justin Bieber, that’s her business. But she shouldn’t keep it a secret from those that love her. What a selfish bitch she is, even giving a final “FUCK YOU” to Private Hudson by pitching her “whore jewel” over the gunwale!

    Frankly, I find it very fitting, and her very deserving of the final scene of the film. I too wish to see her spend eternity in the crushing darkness at 2000 fathoms aboard a freezing, rusted ghost ship!

  3. WOW, that hate keeps you warm now dooesn't it???