Go Finch Yourself

I'll readily admit that I put off seeing 'The Social Network' as long as I possibly could.  It was like knowing you need a tooth worked on and putting off the inevitable until the constant throbbing pain forces you to finally admit those Kirkland's Best fast-dissolve gelcaps are no longer enough to "take the edge off."  That was kind of how I felt when approaching David Fincher's biopic about the founders of Facebook; it could only be avoided for so long, and when it happened there was a risk of vomiting, dizziness, and in my case, unprovoked rage.

The film is a lot like getting a shot of novocaine.  A sharp sting accompanied by the vile taste of syringe fluid, two hours of weirdly unsatisfying numbness, all ending with the gradual realization that the once tiny pin prick is now a swelling boil that would send Michael Hutchens speeding to the Walgreen's drive through to get that codeine script filled, and that dude got wood from strangling himself with a necktie.

Nerdcore Rising:  Timberlake (left) and Eisenberg (right)
I did like two and only two elements of this film:  Jesse Eisenberg and Justin Timberlake (who barely beat out creepy identical twin jocks Cameron and Tyler Winklevoss, both played by Armie Hammer).  Each actor played brilliantly against type with angel-faced Eisenberg as cold, calculating anti-hero Mark Zuckerberg and Timberlake as the cocaine-addicted founder of Napster, Sean Parker.  Neither is poised to be the next big thing and therein lies the appeal; both manage to leverage this lack of hype as an asset.  Eisenberg is a Dustin Hoffman at best, a Stanley Tucci at worst, and an Andrew McCarthy at rock bottom.  He easily could have been the next Michael Cera.  Who the f#%k is Michael Cera?  Exactly my point.  Timberlake already has record-industry bank, allowing him to take interesting (and usually self-mocking) supporting roles that provide maximum distraction from his checkered past of boy bands and pretend relationships with Britney Spears.

You may have noticed I'm already on paragraph four and have yet to say anything about the actual plot of 'The Social Network.'  I won't waste our collective time giving a recap.  If you would like to get a plot spoiler, find the nearest Borders and grab a copy of the Cliffs Notes for The Great Gatsby.  Settle into an available chair or patch of carpet, read enough of the overall summary to remind you how much you hated the book in high school, return it to the shelf, use their restroom and leave without making a purchase.  Hell, maybe check out a few free songs on the listening stations in the music section on your way out.  Then take the $1.50 Red Box rental fee and go treat yourself to a Red Bull and a Twix bar.

I would love to tell you your tab at the BP is "on me" but, well, it's your buck fitty.  If toxins and Twix aren't your thing, maybe 7-11 still has some of that limited edition Steven Spielberg-flavored 'Super 8' mix in the Slurpee machine.  Maybe mix it 50-50 with cherry in case the Spielberg flavor is tainted from too many uncomfortably long pity hugs with George Lucas.
George Lucas (left) enjoying a cool beverage on 'Free Slurpee Day." **

**Ok, so it isn't technically George Lucas.   The Lost Gen could only afford a pic 
of his stand-in, Joey "Hairy Palms" Zucco.  Price:  one Slurpee

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