Instead of Rebooting Pirates of the Caribbean, LA should Reboot Itself.

My god, what a crying waste. (Drinks in the beautiful view. Notices how hard it is to frame a photograph without getting a street sign in there, even if it’s the middle of a nature area.)

So Johnny Depp has finally been exonerated of the bullshit wife-beating charges.

He was never charged with a crime, because his accuser, the incredibly awful Amber Heard, had actually been beating HIM, so she had no actual evidence besides having a vagina — but the media convicted him, and he spent years in the wilderness. (You want to talk about double standards? The media actually reported on that time that Amber Heard cut Johnny’s finger off, but they went along with the idea that HE had cut it off HIMSELF while abusing her. The mental gymnastics slay me.)

Now everyone who’s sane can consult the evidence: the accuser was really the abuser. Funny how most abusive people’s bullshit always boils down to the same tricks. But that was some almost ATHLETICALLY IMPRESSIVE projection — and the industry swallowed it, crook, swine, and blinkers.

In the meantime, however, Disney was trying to figure out how to still make money off of the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise that Depp made profitable in the first place. And now they’re stuck with two possible movies: another great film starring Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow… or a reboot with girl pirates.

Don’t get me wrong, the actress they’re talking about for the main girl pirate is sublime; Karen Gillan was great as Amy in Doctor Who, and she looks cute as hell in a pirate hat. But even if the girl pirates movie isn’t a train wreck (hey, it’s just one actress; they’ll likely pick a slew of assholes to write the thing), the fact remains:

Hollywood keeps rebooting the wrong damn thing.

The movie industry is so focused on profit that it keeps rebooting old ideas just cause they THINK they’re less risky. They haven’t noticed that LA itself needs a near-complete reboot.

First, the roosters. Roosters in Los Angeles (yes, urban chicken raising is a thing) have no idea when the dawn is, and they scream all night. I have declared war.

As for the other things in Los Angeles that need to go, most of them ALSO have two feet.

The mountains and ocean and flora here are so beautiful…and the older architecture is fine. But everything built after 1970 is an eyesore, and the people… oh, god. Let’s start with the fact that no one here means what they say, and if you ask a question they don’t want to answer, they pretend you didn’t ask it.

And everyone here thinks they’re “in the industry,” even if what they mean is that they were an extra in the first Ghostbusters, or they’re an aspiring model who doesn’t realize she’s actually a call girl. But they all guard their industry contacts like dragon’s gold, assuming the contacts even exist, so it takes a while to figure out quite how delusional they are.

From the homeless people from Oklahoma who were aspiring movie stars 5 years ago (and are now insane from meth and heroin — kids, DON’T DO METH AND HEROIN) to the ingenues (aka future homeless and/or real estate agents) and the “middle-class” hippies (which in CA means you have a $5 million house you don’t take care of) to the movie producers and the current stars filling their faces with pathogens to try to hang on (because if it were about talent, they would be in theater), to the anonymous mil- and billionaires hiding one of their houses in the hills somewhere (the houses are gorgeous but the owners dress like meth addicts), to the scumfuck criminals who feed off the entire mess like rats…

…the whole place needs to be hit by a neutron bomb. Followed by a bomb that only takes out architecture built after 1960 (just to be sure; some of those 60s houses are cute but the move toward ugly disposability had already begun) and typhus.

The land here is breathtakingly beautiful. The weather is perfect. It’s a crying shame. RESET.

Author of NVSQVAM, DISASTER FITNESS, the upcoming ELEKTRA’S REVENGE sci-fi epic, & the action novella SEINE VENDETTA. Editor of YOU’RE ALL PUSSIES.