About Destination: Asphyxiation
Destination: Asphyxiation is a website on the internet machine started by a guy who missed writing for a venue.  As the story goes, that guy didn't feel like going out and finding someone to hire him to write stuff, nor did he feel like waiting for one of his numerous friends who operate various blogs and news sites to invite him to write with them.  Instead, like most cowards do, he took the easy way out, and created one himself.

That venue is Destination: Asphyxiation, a website constantly browsed by his mother and a few others.  It is the home of Alternative Reviews (I made it up, I swear) and creator of the Guest Editor program and The Gauntlet Challenge.  Present, also, are empty comment boxes, a link to the equally empty Google+, and a picture of my dogs.

Alternative Reviews
Are they a thing?  No, leave me the fuck alone, I think I'm old enough to do what I want.  Somewhere along the lines, reviews lost their meaning.  They stopped being a tool for reference, of even a diving board for good conversation and discussion.  Instead -- somewhere, at some point, there was an ill-informed consumer decided to place the critic on a throne and let that critic's word be the Bible on Buying Shit.  There aren't many critics you can trust these days, this power has gone to their heads.  They control the market on media, and they know it.

I used to write reviews here and there -- a few in print, a few on the internet machine, and a few on stall walls in truck stop restrooms.  I decided I miss doing it, but at the same time, I hate the format.  I hate having to watch my language, because in case you haven't noticed, I'm a fucking supporter of the First Amendment. I hate having to be polite and cordial, and I especially hate being a commercial.

Alternative Reviews are my faux title for a faux format that's wholly unoriginal but still lends to support my faux intellectualism.  What you'll find in an Alternative Review isn't necessarily a critique of the media, or a judgement call, or me telling you to see it or not.  At best, it's a conversation, often between me and myself.  And with any luck, it'll spur you to start your own conversation somewhere along the lines.

But here, let's go back to the old times, where the critic was a resource, a reference, and let's start a debate. You don't have to talk to me.  Sometimes, I'll prefer if you didn't.  But for chrissakes, when you read an article, take it to your best friend, that girl with the scarf who sits in the cubicle next to you, your mother's boyfriend, or the weird cat lady down the street and actually talk about it.

Critics ought not be the first or the last step in buying a movie ticket, flipping through a comic, listening to an album, or reading a book.  If anything, the critic ought to be the step in the middle, preferably, the one you skip.


I'm T-mothafuckin-B, and I'll be your captain this evening.
Destination: Asphyxiation is brought to you by Tom Bevis, a gentleman of questionable character and immaculate taste.  He likes to say he's a writer, having tackled fiction, poetry, drama, essays, and long-form articles, but who are you going to believe, me or him?  He's 5'10", loves walks in the dark, and is well-known locally for his trademark fiery beard.  He was last seen in San Diego, California.

I told you there was a picture of my dogs here.

The dual pugs, Max and Nina, don't actually contribute.  I mean, c'mon, they're dogs.  They have no thumbs.  They're only here because I needed an excuse to prove myself right about having a picture of them.  Carry on.