From the very beginning, the movie has stood on title alone. Screenwriter Josh Friendman, who reviewed early drafts of the script describes it:

I will not give away any of the plot details of SNAKES ON A PLANE. But know this. As the great Sam Jackson would say: There are motherfucking snakes on the motherfucking plane. What else do you need to know?

Indeed. Mr. Jackson famously took the part based on the title and just as famously fought to keep it when movie executives sought to change it. A lot of times movies will have “working titles” that are later changed to something perceived as more box office friendly by the marketing plan. For instance, “Kicking & Screaming” was originally titled “Will Ferrell Soccer Movie”. Currently tops at the box office is “Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby“. I’m absolutely positive that if you ask 10 people “Hey, what’s that about?”, 9 of them will respond: “Will Ferrell Nascar Movie”. Why not just call it that? Why not call it what it is instead of running it through the PR machine on spin cycle until it comes out shiny? When “Snakes on a Plane” was about to become Pacific Air 121, people spoke up.

The fact that the democratic blogosphere (and, let’s be honest, all of us) so values authenticity provoked it to rally behind this uncharacteristic showing of sincerity from those typically slimy Hollywood types. Fans began making their own posters, t-shirts, and complete trailers for the movie. The demanders started to assume the role of suppliers, to make the products that they wanted themselves (in fact no “official” posters, t-shirts, or trailers were released until fairly recently). It was somewhere around this point when the executives “got it” and not only kept the title, but went back to film a scene containing the line “motherfucking snakes on the motherfucking plane”. If ever there were a movie that embraced the basic tenet of the Cluetrain Manifesto, it’s this one. I am given hope by the idea that there is fast becoming an economic model that rewards candor over craftiness.

Early in the 1976 film Network, anchorman Howard Beale explains his inability to continue newscasting with, “I really don’t know any other way to say it other than I just ran out of bullshit.” He must have been speaking only for himself because, 30 years later, there’s still plenty of bullshit to go around. I don’t think that anyone is saying that “Snakes on a Plane” will be a good movie. It might be shit, but it won’t be bullshit. The core of all the enthusiasm is that it is what it is, unapologetically. Mr. Jackson has said of the brilliant title, “You either want to see that, or you don’t.”

And I do, so I’m going tonight.

Are there documents as vital and world-changing out there today? Probably, but I would be surprised if they are immediately recognizable as such. Afterall, it was 13 years between the 95 Theses and the founding of the Lutheran Church (though Marty was condemned after only 4).

My favorite of the original 95 Theses, posted in the crisp October of 1517, would have to be good old #86:

86. Why does not the pope, whose wealth is today greater than the riches of the richest, build just this one church of St. Peter with his own money, rather than with the money of poor believers?

And since we’re on the subject of Theseses, I might as well mention my other two favorite collections (always in flocks of 95).

The Cluetrain Manifesto (have I mentioned that I love manifestos?), was written back in 1999 and did much to foretell both the fall of the Dot Coms (clueless money-making schemes) and the subsequent rise of Web 2.0 (still largely clueless money-making schemes, but who have at least figured out the power of community). My highlight from these Theses?

57. Smart companies will get out of the way and help the inevitable to happen sooner.

I’ve heard Craig Newmark describe exactly that strategy as why his list works so well.

Finally, I recently discovered the 95 Theses of Geek Activism, posted just a few days ago. It’s slightly different from these other two in that it’s, pardon the clergy-related pun, preaching to the choir. Still, whereas the others are meant to stir up conflict in hopes that a good resolution will come of it, these Theses actually provide some good advice on how to make change. The most confrontational:

73. We do not lock the door to our bedrooms or bathrooms because we have something to hide. We do not secure our networks, conversations, emails and files because we have something to hide.

This statement made me really think about why I do lock my bedroom door and how the media commonly casts privacy and security as mutually exclusive enemies—which is a lot more provocative and engaging than what I was thinking about before that. Something like, “Wow. Martin Luther looks a lot like Vincent D’Onofrio.”