This weekend I had the duty of getting off my large behind, being dragged from my Saturday cartoons, and traveling to watch a movie so that my fellow students could read a review. I had to make a decision between How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days, Gods and Generals, Kangaroo Jack [the #1 movie (that stars a kangaroo) in America!], or Teletubbies: The Movie. No, I made that last one up… but if only it were an option, then I could see hours of my beloved Tipsy [Editor’s Note: Peter, Tipsy is a member of the cast of Teletubbies Next Generation: The Adult Years. We can’t talk about his exploits in this paper.]. The point is, I went to Gods and Generals. And boy, was that a mistake. It is not a movie; it is a test of endurance. I failed the test when I fell asleep after intermission. That’s right, there was an actual INTERMISSION in the middle of the movie. That short break, though, was actually the best part of my experience. A short girl sitting next to me said in some kind of accent I didn’t recognize, “There is no way this movie is only four hours. It’s been two hours before intermission and there is still half left.” I applauded the crazy foreigner’s intelligence. For those who don’t know, Gods and Generals is about the Civil War, specifically about Stonewall Jackson. If I hadn’t drunk some Red Bull before the show, I would have died of boredom at least twice. Red Bull gives you not only wings, but also the ability to turn your brain off. Well, eventually I decided to escape for a potty break, but I found out you needed your ticket stub to gain entrance to this “Rest Room.” I realized I was in trouble. You see, after I ate all my popcorn and candy, I was still hungry, and after eating my brother, the ticket stub was a sort of paper-pulpy dessert treat. So I decided instead to relieve myself in a garbage can. But the manager saw me and chased me around until I lost him and his clerk goons in one of the other screening rooms. I had managed to waltz my way right into the beginning of How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. This movie, I soon realized had everything I needed: that’s right, the old Hope, ANGER… sadness. Hope that it would be more than a “chick-flick.” Anger, that no, this was just another sappy piece of [expletive deleted]. And sadness, as the tears rolled down the cheeks of the movie clerk (who finally found my hiding space) whom I had to beat with my Italian fists of rage to escape again. After that little episode, I strolled back to Gods and Generals. Now Jackson, Lee, and some other important generals (or were they gods?) were sitting in a house listening to a woman playing the piano. A little girl walked up to Jackson and asked if he would like to know what the ornaments on the Christmas tree symbolized. While others’ hearts may have melted for this young’un, I was angry (again) that she was interrupting such a lovely piano piece. Then she told Jackson that the ornaments were an angel, a gingerbread snowflake, and a stupidlittleshutupIhateyouyoulittleannoyinggirl. I was impressed that she managed to tell me the symbolism of not one, not two, but none of the ornaments. All she did was state the obvious. Jackson fell for this little five year-old with big dimples, but I was not satisfied. Later, when she appeared on screen again, I wanted nothing more than to shut her up so I wouldn’t have to listen to her. Then she died of scarlet fever, and Jackson was not happy. He cried, I laughed at him, and through his sadness I saw hope that this movie might actually be good for me. If nothing else, I could make fun of it all night long. Then I realized that this movie had Hope, ANGER, and sadness too. It must be animated suspension.