Kinotek presents a curated and constantly updated media library of films, television shows, and documentaries, commercial-free and as the director intended.

Sign up to watch all six seasons of The Cats of War, the show that gives a whole new meaning to the word “catastrophe” (and photo bomb)! From writer/producer Desmond White comes a nature documentary series about ordinary house cats strapped with Go Pros and IEDs, and given 24 hours to live, love, and leave hairballs before they’re detonated in a fiery, fluffy explosion.

Don’t miss the butts and guts on the Bachliator! Each season, America’s top-rated gladiatorial dating show follows a group of women who must fight each other to the death to win the hand of an anti-social but very rich terminal cancer patient. This week: Clare has to behead Lacey with a gardener’s spade before Daniel, a thirty-two-year-old with malignant melanoma, two months to live, and a net worth of 14 million dollars, shares true love’s first kiss in a hot tub.

Our library also includes audience favorites like:

Baby or Snake? 5 babies. 5 cobras. Who will win?

How Far Will You Embargo? Contestants must complete an obstacle course to win the ultimate prize: the corpse of Fidel Castro.

Bring Out the Kids! Total strangers must work together to give a woman an abortion.

START YOUR 689 MINUTE FREE TRIAL TODAY!

Who said it? Donald Trump or a Disney Villain? A Special Presidential Post

“I’m surrounded by idiots.”

Was this Donald Trump speaking in a rally about the White House, or Donald Trump speaking to the White House about one of his rallies, or Scar from The Lion King?

“The most beautiful girl in town, that makes her the best! And don’t I deserve the best?”

Insensitive remarks from Donald Trump’s conversation with Billy Bush or Gaston in Beauty & the Beast?

“They’re not like you and me, which means they must be evil.” Also: “Off with their heads!”

Donald Trump riffing on Mexicans or Ratcliffe riffing on Native Americans in Pocahontas or the Queen of Hearts ripping up her citizens?

“You are deformed, and you are ugly, and these are things for which the world shows little pity.”

Trump tweeting his daughter Tiffany or Frollo twittering at Quasimodo?

“I killed Mufasa!”

Trump or Scar? 

“You poor, simple fools. Thinking you could defeat me. ME!”

Maleficent or the 2016 inaugural address?

“You’re speechless, I see. A fine quality in a wife.”

Jaffar or Trump proposing to his third wife?

“Triton’s daughter will be mine and then I’ll make him writhe. I’ll see him wriggle like a worm on a hook.”

Obviously Trump. 

Published—”Flexible Groups”


Defenestration published my short story “Flexible Groups” in its December 2016 issue (for context, they release an issue every April, August, and December). I was influenced by Kurt Vonnegut’s “Harrison Bergeron” and my experiences in professional education. One of the members of my writer’s critique called this style “snarky with a soul.” I’m keeping that.

Defenestration is an online publication devoted to humor in all its varieties, and its About page boasts such accomplishments as selling its life story to Christopher Nolan (you might have heard of a little something called The Dark Knight) and successfully defending the Earth from Martians.

Trailers for future installments of the God is Not Dead franchise

Senator Hurpkins walks into his office. He looks unhurried, self-assured. All of his secretaries, even the male ones, are huddled around Janet’s desk. Janet looks at him urgently. “Bill, you got to see this.” Hurpkins takes the document she’s holding and looks at it closely. “No,” he says. “That’s not possible.” Janet explains what he’s seeing because movie audiences don’t read good. “They want to delete God’s name from the Constitution. The Constitution.” (The film takes some liberties.) Hurpkins is visibly upset: “NOT THE FUCKING CONSTITUTION. Not on my watch. NOT ON MY WATCH.” 

Quick shots of the Declaration of Independence with black highlighter over “Nature’s God” and coins dropping on a counter which read “In Nothing We Trust.” Elementary students recite the pledge of allegiance, skipping “under God.” Scenes of Senator Hurpkins filibustering in front of Congress with an earnest Mr. Smith Goes to Washington desperation. A narrator voiceover: “When the United States of America decides it wants to erase every mention of God from the country, Senator Hurpkins is the only politician willing to fight back. But at the end of the day, Hurpkins has to ask himself, in WHO does HE trust?” Cue the same shot of coins dropping on the counter. Narrator: “The stakes have never been higher.” A fancy dinner party, people are eating steaks. The pun is unnatural, forced. Narrator, again: “He will have to defend God in front of every enemy imaginable. Democrats. The Liberal Media. Planned Parenthood. And… himself?” Hurpkins, kneeling in the street, holds the dead body of Janet. She’s been hit by a drunk driver. He takes a swig of a bottle of Scotch and shakes his fist at the sky. Onscreen, cue the words: “God’s Not Dead 9.” Narrator: “This holiday break, you’ll have to SEE IT to BELIEVE IT.”

A funeral. A procession of grim-faced men bearing a casket on their shoulders. A circle of mourners as the casket’s lowered into the ground. A shovelful of dirt lands on the lid, now placed in its grave. An onlooking celebrity, maybe Tom Hiddleston, holds an umbrella over a crying widow and says, “I can’t believe he’s gone.” His companion, hopefully John C. Reilly, not because he’s perfect for the part, but because I really like John C. Reilly, he’s just a great guy, he’s funny, plus when you see John C. Reilly in a movie you know that at least it’ll have some excellent comic relief, looks around curiously, “What’s that sound?”

The sediments on the casket are vibrating like at the end of Superman v. Batman. Whatever’s inside is alive and powerful. Cut to black. Onscreen, cue the words: “God’s Not Dead 27.” Tom Hiddleston says the arc words, “He has not abandoned us,” which have a haunting, poetic effect.


Little girls jump-rope. Some teenagers jump into a cherry-red Lamborghini Aventador (careful product placement which should pay for half of the movie). Dads mow their lawns and wave impotently at each other. The mediocre tranquility of the Suburbs. Narrator: “The kids of Sugar Creek don’t know it yet, but something is coming to get them.” An actress in her late twenties who’s playing a freshman in high school wakes up coated in fear-sweat. Sexy fear-sweat. The actress, Jennifer Lawrence or maybe new talent, runs downstairs. “Mom! MOM!” she shouts. Mom grabs her by the shoulders: “What, what is it, my little hushpuppy?” The actress has no time for cute names: “I saw him! I saw him!” “Who?” The girl sobs into Mom’s wool cardigan: “I saw God.” The Mom stares enigmatically into the distance as if struck by old but traumatic memories. “Dear Lord,” she says. “He’s back.”

A montage of scenes with teenagers in the grips of terrible, divine events. A teenaged boy, screaming. There are holes in his hands. A girl being dragged up the wall, her arms splayed, her body forming the shape of a tee. Fresh blood on a wall which reads: “Repent.” Then a celebrity, undoubtedly Nicholas Cage, in fact it can’t be anyone else, it has to be Nicholas Cage, drives down a freeway at high speeds, a pistol in each hand pressed against the steering wheel. Nicholas Cage has a face that means business. Cut to Paul Giamatti in an orange prison suit, speaking to Cage from behind a pane of glass. Giamatti: “He’s coming for them!” Nicholas Cage hangs up a phone and walks away decisively. Giammati keeps shouting: “He’s coming for them all! The Lambs of God! Lambs for the slaughter!” Narrator: “No one knows where it came from, or who it will visit next.” The police dredge a body from the river as a dove lands beside red-and-blue flashing lights and watches menacingly. A teenager opens a drawer, sees a Bible, screams, shuts the drawer. Narrator: “God is Not Dead 59: Die Harder.” We see the actress from before crawling down a hall. The shadow of a robed, bearded man falls over her. A powerful voice, maybe Liam Neeson, maybe Benedict Cumberbatch, says, “You are all my children now!” The trailer cuts to black and dark laughter.


A list of exhibitions the Museum of Modern Art would probably display

A wall coated in Bubble-wrap with a Do Not Pop Sign. All the bubbles have been popped.

A year’s worth of poops in grocery bags. Each is titled with what the artist ate that day. For example: Desmond White, “eggs, mushrooms, enchiladas, side of salsa, aspirin, 18 ounces of water,” Nov. 7, 2016.

A wall-sized plaster vagina with live feminists inside spurting passerby with super soakers full of goats blood in a modern comment on silencing the lambs of lady periods.

A window that’s been labeled “window” or “panels.” A mirror that’s been labeled “reflections.”

An armchair made out of dicks been done

A labyrinth of waist-height cardboard walls been done

A video of people making out and rubbing fish on each other been done

A pile of straws been done

A rabbit made out of rabbit turds been done

and finally

A beautiful baroque portraiture done in the style of Rembrandt with a caption that reads: “The artist wanted to upset the popular notion that modern art has to be shit.”