Monday, April 28, 2008

Hot Blog On Blog Action


My friend Ashby and I are in on a listmaking challenge. It may go beyond lists because, who the fuck cares anyway. Here's the way Ashby describes this list: "Top five situations from which I try my damndest to escape, in spite of the fact that there is no actual *need* for escaping."

5) Talking to relatives. Sweet holy fuck, no I do not care about the Stuart Woods novels you've been reading, and I don't really think you're interested in whatever book I've been reading lately. And don't you laugh at me for reading a "mere" comic book like Watchmen. But they're family, you can fall back on family tropes, things you've had to do for work, humorous anecdotes from television shows you mutually respect. Oh, it gets so old. And you know what? I graduated from high school eight years ago. Time for a new line of questioning.

4) Talking to friendly old people. They can even be interesting, I just get so uncomfortable knowing that every thread of conversation we take gets us one step closer to me unwittingly revealing what a self-absorbed, narcissistic prick I am that I always end these conversations early. Sometimes I'm not the transgressor, actually, as my counterpart only takes so long before revealing that black people and Mexicans piss them off.

3) Concerts. You'd think that as a music lover, I'd love going to see live music. You'd also think I love three hours of shitty opening bands, drunk lead singers, standing still or swaying arrhythmically until my back feels screwed down the wrong way, and five dollar domestics in tiny cups. Sometimes I'm pleasantly surprised, like by the Fiery Furnaces at Wash U with their spastic, never-ending circus of a medley type concert, or Wilco with their plum awesomeness, but too often it's a disinterested Doves playing to a disinterested crowd, Ryan Adams rambling and acting like an asshole, and Colin Meloy playing his solo shit. And for whatever reason, I never, ever get any sleep after these things. It's the worst case of insomnia - my mind's spinning, I have a headache, and when I dose off at six in the morning, I have head-splitting, room-spinning nightmares that replay the concert ad nauseam. On the other hand, you're out there, risking getting the clap from standing downwind of some frat boy's date, surrounded by people. It's a communal experience, so it's worth staying just to see what happens. Maybe I just miss out on the communal aspects of a concert, but almost all the time I wind up looking at my watch and counting the songs in the set before the night's halfway gone. And my god, the back pain.

2) New Year's Party. It starts off all exciting, generally because there's a lot of booze. Or it starts off terribly because you've gotten lost on the way to the party and you show up after everyone else has already gotten drunk. And you don't know whether you should drink very much because your drunk friends are annoying the fuck out of sober you and you think you might want to slink home to smoke cigarettes and watch a marathon of movies like "Terror Train." (Side note: Who will you hate more after the media blitz for Adam Sandler's new movie and Mike Myers' new movie? Alright, it's Myers in a wash, just look at the fucking poster) But still, it's a party, so why escape?

1) Life-saving surgery. This means I have wound up in a regrettable situation that was probably at one point avoidable. I'll become so certain that the life-saving procedure will probably wind up killing me with a staph infection, I'll beggar off it until my arms and legs are about to fall off so that when I actually undergo the procedure, I'll be the least thankful subject of a miracle surgery ever. I'll probably make it my life's mission to kill the doctors for saving me. How I'll do this with naught but a torso and and an expressionless head, I don't quite know.

Okay, Ashby: The 5 best jobs you can get in a nationalist socialist dictatorship besides dictator

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Unedited fictional transcript of Joe Scarborough and Chris Matthews

Joe Scarborough: You know what really irks your regular guys, your regular Joe who likes a cold beer at the end of a long work day? Barack Obama reads books. Lots of them. Literature. Regular Americans - everyday Americans don't like complex stories with multiple arcs and unsympathetic main characters. They like a good fable, probably something with a grain of truth, something where an exotic, possibly effeminate villain gets eviscerated, something you can tell around the camp fire while you drunkenly wax your pud with other non-ethnic white people. You know, normal people.

Chris Matthews: Oh, absolutely. You know, when I was working for Tip O'Neill, I had to take a second job, and I worked security with this old - this Irish-American veteran and he - he didn't like two things: books and darkies. I think if you're going to run for president in Amurricah, you've gotta appeal to the normal man on his level, you know, caked in shit, drunk, abusive, malevolent towards anyone different from you. You've gotta display their ignorance of anything outside their very white, very narrow worldview. If you betray a knowledge of the wider world, you know, you're done for! That's it! And you have to distrust the darkies. Obama - I love the guy, I love the way he talks, but he just, Joe, he likes the darkies. You used to be a congressman, Florida 1st district, so you know what I mean.

JS: My first day in congress, Henry Hyde walks up to me and says one thing: "Quote Ulysses and I will fuck you in the ass." And he just walks away, just like that. That's one of those [laughs] one of those lessons that stays with you, it's a real life lesson. And I think that's true wherever you go.

CM: [laughs] That's one of those great stories that just kind of floats around the Potomac, isn't it? Go to the Lincoln Memorial late at night, no one there, you might here that story echoing around. Here's a little known thing about Ronald Reagan, one of - the finest - the finest politician since maybe, I don't know, Teddy Roosevelt, maybe stretching back before that. Reagan was actually a three-foot tall Asian man. And you'd never know it! When I met him, when he was inaugurated, I turned to one of Teddy Kennedy's aides, and I say, "What's different about this guy?" And Kennedy's guy, he says, I mean it was perfect - you wanna talk about one of the great lines - he says, "Chris, he's a three foot tall Asian man who talks like a WASP from northern Illinois and lived a life without any struggle in Hollywood, but he throws a bone like some morning in America bullshit to keep people thinking he's like them." And I thought that's it! That's what a great politician does. He cares about the normal guy, the little guy, the guy who tried out modern art in 1974 but thought it was gaudy and pointless and swore off art altogether until they started making those magic eye things a few years back. You remember those?

JS: Those were great. And those collages of pictures that mix together to look like Yoda.

CM: One of the great inventions of the post-Cold War era. Man, we're on a memory trip here on MSNBC.

Monday, April 14, 2008

Lyrics of the Day, Man Man Edition

From the hirsute Philadelphia shambling pop/Viking waltz group:

"You strut like a stallion
But you fuck like a mule"