Trailer For The World’s Most Dangerous Amusement Park Documentary

Last year Johnny Knoxville, (he of Jackass fame), produced and starred in a movie called Action Point, a film based on a true story involving the establishment of one of the single most insane and dangerous amusement parks in American History.

Apparently after watching a 2013 documentary about Action Park, based in New Jersey, Knoxville was so inspired by the story that he felt compelled to make a comedy about it. Putting the laughs to one side it now appears that the entire story of Action Park was far more serious as the new documentary Class Action Park: The World’s Most Dangerous Amusement Park details.

The documentary synopsis states:

During its 1980s heyday, New Jersey’s Action Park was known as the world’s most dangerous amusement park. It was as a lawless land, ruled by drunk teenage employees and frequented by drunker teenage guests. The rides ignored basic notions of physics, common sense, and safety. The end result lay somewhere between Lord of the Flies and a Saw movie. But despite countless injuries and deaths, Action Park is looked back at fondly as an insane—but insanely fun—rite of passage. The scars it left? Badges of honor. Class Action Park is the first-ever feature documentary to explore a place that has long since entered the realm of myth. The film peels away the trappings of nostalgia to reveal the shocking truth behind the park and its genius madman founder.

The documentary has yet to confirm a release date but you can keep up-to-date with the production by visiting it’s main website HERE

Amazing 8K Film Of Weather On The Great Plains

Former NFL player Tyler Schmitt has edited together a stunning 8K time lapse video of the changes in weather across America’s Great Plains.

Schmitt, now a full-time photographer has captured some truly breathtaking images in his short film entitled ‘From Drakness to Light’. You can see some more of Schmitt’s work over on his main website HERE.

 

 

Bizarre Snake-Like UFO Filmed In Italy

Here’s footage of a bizarre snake-like object swirling about the night sky above Ravenna in Italy.

The origins of the video are still unknown except that is was uploaded to a Gamer’s YouTube channel M89_Gamer last month. The footage shows a definite UFO as it remains unidentified and as of yet nobody can offer up a logical explanation.

Luxembourg Tornado Footage.

Here’s some unbelievable footage taken from a parked car in a street in Pettingen, Luxembourg, of a tornado ripping through houses.

Yes this is a very rare occurrence and the media have used the term ‘unseasonal’ to describe this type of weather. A term which seems to cover a lot of unpredicatable and unusual weather patterns happening around the globe. If only there was some sort of explanation to all of this?

Thankfully nobody was killed although two were severely injured and 19 people were treated at hospial.

The Weather Channel Gave The Most Terrifying Forecast Yet

As Hurricane Florence slams into Carolina’s coastline The Weather Channel broadcast a truly terrifying, realistic forecast as to the dangerous potential the storm carries.

The graphics team who put this measured and highly effective demonstration of just how life threatening a Hurricane can be pushed the envelope in weather forecasting to amazing effect.

As you can see from the video below even three feet of water in urban areas causes absolute carnage. This kind of information saves lives, preparation is everything.

FBI Evacuate Space Observatory Sparking Alien Conspiracy.

As the world ignites and turns into a ball of failure flames it’s comforting to know that alien conspiracy theories are still going strong.

However there is a very real element of mystery about this story after the FBI dramatically raided The Sunspot Solar Observatory in New Mexico. Feds swooped in on  a Blackhawk helicopter, five days ago, ordering staff out of the facility without any explanation why.

Even local law enforcement were bewildered by the closure stating: “The FBI is refusing to tell us what’s going on.There was a Blackhawk helicopter, a bunch of people around antennas and work crews on towers but nobody would tell us anything.”

The Observatory’s sole purpose is to examine the Sun but since the raid it’s been banned from doing so and its official website just reads closed until further notice. But where is the alien conspiracy in all this mess? Well many believe the federal swoop is clear evidence the Observatory has accidentally uncovered evidence of extraterrestrial life, claiming that staff at the observatory saw something they weren’t supposed to or have even made contact with an alien lifeform. Other theories on the internet, (God bless the Internet),  claim the shutdown is due to an impending massive solar flare which will fry the world’s electricity supplies or that a foreign government has hacked into the observatory and is using it to spy on America.

Whatever the paranoid explanations might be one fact remains, the Feds raided and forcibly closed an observatory and have yet to give any explanation why and until they do conspiracy theories will abound.

 

 

Hollywood Screenwriter Alleges ‘Everybody F**king Knew’ About Weinstein.

As the Harvey Weinstein scandal rumbles on in Hollywood and more details emerge about those he allegedly abused and assaulted, (there’s now an allegation of rape), it seems the rank and file of tinseltown have retreated and remain abnormally quiet.

As I follow this sordid story I’m reminded of the similarities to the Jimmy Savile scandal we had here in the UK. Where a wealthy, white, entertainment personality, with ties to the establishment exploited his position of power to sexually abuse the many.

Fair enough, Savile’s MO was underage girls and if some evidence is to be believed also the dead, but Weinstein shares so much in common with the former radio DJ in that a wall of silence was built up around the two by those closest to them and if anyone attempted to breach those walls their livelihoods, careers, reputations and credibility would be completely destroyed.

One individual, who spent nearly a decade in the company of Harvey Weinstein has spoken out about what he knew. Screenwriter Scott Rosenberg, (Beautiful Girls, Con Air, High Fidelity), recently published a brutally honest response to the wall of silence currently surrounding Hollywood on Facebook. On a lengthy and at times distressing post he highlights just how impossible it was for one to raise the alarm, due the absolute power and influence Weinstein had to weild and that ‘everbody fucking knew.’

So, uh, yeah.
We need to talk about Harvey.

I was there, for a big part of it.
From, what, 1994 to the early 2000s?
Something like that.
Certainly The Golden Age.
The “PULP FICTION”, “SHAKESPEARE IN LOVE”, “CLERKS”, “SWINGERS”, “SCREAM”, “GOOD WILL HUNTING”, “ENGLISH PATIENT”, “LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL” years…

Harvey and Bob made my first two movies.
Then they signed me to an overall deal.
Then they bought that horror script of mine about the Ten Plagues.
For a lot of money.
Also bought that werewolf-biker script.
That no one else liked but was my personal favorite.
They were going to publish my novel.
They anointed me.
Made it so other studios thought I was the real deal.
They gave me my career.

I was barely 30.
I was sure I had struck gold.
They loved me, these two brothers, who had reinvented cinema.
And who were fun and tough and didn’t give an East Coast fuck about all the slick pricks out in L.A.

And those glory days in Tribeca?
The old cramped offices?
That wonderful gang of executives and assistants?
All the filmmakers who were doing repeat business?
The brothers wanted to create a “family of film”.
And they did just that…
We looked forward to having meetings there.
Meetings that would turn into plans that would turn into raucous nights out on the town.
Simply put: OG Miramax was a blast.

So, yeah, I was there.
And let me tell you one thing.
Let’s be perfectly clear about one thing:

Everybody-fucking-knew.

Not that he was raping.
No, that we never heard.
But we were aware of a certain pattern of overly-aggressive behavior that was rather dreadful.
We knew about the man’s hunger; his fervor; his appetite.
There was nothing secret about this voracious rapacity; like a gluttonous ogre out of the Brothers Grimm.
All couched in vague promises of potential movie roles.
(and, it should be noted: there were many who actually succumbed to his bulky charms. Willingly. Which surely must have only impelled him to cast his fetid net even wider).

But like I said: everybody-fucking-knew.

And to me, if Harvey’s behavior is the most reprehensible thing one can imagine, a not-so-distant second is the current flood of sanctimonious denial and condemnation that now crashes upon these shores of rectitude in gloppy tides of bullshit righteousness.

Because everybody-fucking-knew.

And do you know how I am sure this is true?
Because I was there.
And I saw you.
And I talked about it with you.
You, the big producers; you, the big directors; you, the big agents; you, the big financiers.
And you, the big rival studio chiefs; you, the big actors; you, the big actresses; you, the big models.
You, the big journalists; you, the big screenwriters; you, the big rock stars; you, the big restaurateurs; you, the big politicians.

I saw you.
All of you.
God help me, I was there with you.

Again, maybe we didn’t know the degree.
The magnitude of the awfulness.
Not the rapes.
Not the shoving against the wall.
Not the potted-plant fucking.
But we knew something.
We knew something was bubbling under.
Something odious.
Something rotten.

But…
And this is as pathetic as it is true:
What would you have had us do?
Who were we to tell?
The authorities?
What authorities?
The press?
Harvey owned the press.
The Internet?
There was no Internet or reasonable facsimile thereof.
Should we have called the police?
And said what?
Should we have reached out to some fantasy Attorney General Of Movieland?
That didn’t exist.

Not to mention, most of the victims chose not to speak out.
Aside from sharing the grimy details with a close girlfriend or confidante.
And if they discussed it with their representatives?
Agents and managers, who themselves feared The Wrath Of The Big Man?
The agents and managers would tell them to keep it to themselves.
Because who knew the repercussions?
That old saw “You’ll Never Work In This Town Again” came crawling back to putrid life like a re-animated cadaver in a late-night zombie flick.
But, yes, everyone knew someone who had been on the receiving end of lewd advances by him.
Or knew someone who knew someone.

A few actress friends of mine told me stories: of a ghastly hotel meeting; of a repugnant bathrobe-shucking; of a loathsome massage request.
And although they were rattled, they sort of laughed at his arrogance; how he had the temerity to think that simply the sight of his naked, doughy, carbuncled flesh was going to get them in the mood.
So I just believed it to be a grotesque display of power; a dude misreading the room and making a lame-if-vile pass.

It was much easier to believe that.
It was much easier for ALL of us to believe that.

Because…

And here’s where the slither meets the slime:
Harvey was showing us the best of times.
He was making our movies.
Throwing the biggest parties.
Taking us to The Golden Globes!
Introducing us to the most amazing people (Meetings with Vice President Gore! Clubbing with Quentin and Uma! Drinks with Salman Rushdie and Ralph Fiennes! Dinners with Mick Jagger and Warren-freaking-Beatty!).

The most epic Oscar weekends.
That seemed to last for weeks!
Sundance! Cannes! Toronto!
Telluride! Berlin! Venice!
Private jets! Stretch limousines! Springsteen shows!
Hell, Harvey once took me to St. Barth’s for Christmas.
For 12 days!
I was a broke-ass kid from Boston who had never even HEARD of St. Barth’s before he booked my travel.
He once got me tickets to the seven hottest Broadway shows in one week. So I could take a new girlfriend on a dazzling tour of theater.
He got me seats on the 40-yard-line to the Super Bowl, when the Patriots were playing the Packers in New Orleans.
Even got me a hotel room, which was impossible to get that weekend.
He gave and gave and gave and gave.
He had a monarch’s volcanic generosity when it came to those within his circle.
And a Mafia don’s fervent need for abject loyalty from his capos and soldiers.

But never mind us!
What about what he was doing for the culture?
Making stunningly splendid films at a time when everyone else was cranking-out simpering “INDEPENDENCE DAY” rip-offs.

It was glorious.
All of it.

So what if he was coming on a little strong to some young models who had moved mountains to get into one of his parties?
So what if he was exposing himself, in five-star hotel rooms, like a cartoon flasher out of “MAD MAGAZINE” (just swap robe for raincoat!)
Who were we to call foul?
Golden Geese don’t come along too often in one’s life.

Which goes back to my original point:
Everybody-fucking-knew.
But everybody was just having too good a time.
And doing remarkable work; making remarkable movies.

As the old joke goes:
We needed the eggs.

Okay, maybe we didn’t NEED them.
But we really, really, really, really LIKED them eggs.
So we were willing to overlook what the Golden Goose was up to, in the murky shadows behind the barn…

And for that, I am eternally sorry.
To all of the women that had to suffer this…
I am eternally sorry.
I’ve worked with Mira and Rosanna and Lysette.
I’ve known Rose and Ashley and Claire for years…
Their courage only hangs a lantern on my shame.
And I am eternally sorry to all those who suffered in silence all this time.
And have chosen to remain silent today.

I mostly lost touch with the brothers by the early 2000s.
For no specific reason.
Just that there were other jobs, other studios.
But a few months ago, Harvey called me, out of the blue.
To talk about the bygone days.
To talk about how great it would be to get some of the gang back together.
Make a movie.
He must have known then the noose was tightening.
There was a wistfulness to him that I had never heard before.
A melancholy.
It most assuredly had a walking-to-the-gallows feel.
When we hung up I wondered: “what was that all about?”
In a few short weeks I would know.
It was the condemned man simply wanting to comb some of the ruins of his old stomping grounds.
One last time.

So, yeah, I am sorry.
Sorry and ashamed.
Because, in the end, I was complicit.
I didn’t say shit.
I didn’t do shit.
Harvey was nothing but wonderful to me.
So I reaped the rewards and I kept my mouth shut.
And for that, once again, I am sorry.

But you should be sorry, too.
With all these victims speaking up…
To tell their tales.
Shouldn’t those who witnessed it from the sidelines do the same?
Instead of retreating to the cowardly, canopied confines of faux-outrage?
Doesn’t being a bystander bring with it the responsibility of telling the truth, however personally disgraceful it may be?

You know who are.
You know that you knew.
And do you know how I know that you knew?

Because I was there with you.

And because everybody-fucking-knew.