Okay.
A movie that I always liked is Pump Up The Volume. Reasons? First, it has Samantha Mathis in it. In appearance, she's what TV Tropes.Org (check out the site, you'll like it) calls 'Hollywood Homely'. Meaning, she's not the super-hot, makeup-room hyperprocessed uber-babe spank bait that gets both men and women horny as all get out (at least in theory - I mean, was anyone really turned on by Pamela Anderson once you got past the innate urge to watch her breasts bounce along on the beach?), but a so-called 'girl next door' that guys are supposed to gravitate towards because of the implied possibility that, in real life, a guy like you or me could actually go out with a girl like that. A scene I especially liked in the film was when Christian Slater's parents werethisclose to catching him (they had him, folks!) when Samantha (always liked that name, too!) pops up and goes, "He was talking to me." (The scene must have stuck with the guys who did Transformers; the scene with Shia LeBouf and Megan Fox is almost identical, if skewed for comic intent instead of the dramatic in the earlier film.)
Another reason why I like the film? It has probably one of the most profound comments I've heard out of a film aimed at teenagers; in the sequence when 'Hard Harry' goes on the air after a boy committs suicide (just after talking to him on the air and saying "I'm all alone..." - easily one of the saddest moments in the film), a cop listening to the broadcast says to his partner, "I think you've forgotten what being a kid was like."
The thing that I really like is how, it its own way, the film, in it's depiction of a pirate DJ, somewhat mirrors the Internet in how the things you put out there are interpreted. I once read somewhere (and please, correct me if I'm wrong) that less than 10% of communication between persons is through the actual use of words. If this is true, this explains why I'm such a lousy poker player, and why I NEVER play at casinos. I've been smoked harder than a Virginia ham or the last load in the bong at a really good house party. (And just for the record - no. I never did get to sign the trip board.) The thing is, on the air or online, all you have to represent you are your words. Yes, there can be intent behind them, and after a time, one can get a feel for the manners and patterns that a person has when they post, but really - can you ever really know who someone is online? Certainly, they're not the person they are in real life (or so we hope, in some cases).
So why am I bringing this up? Well, I made a stupid mistake a couple of days ago on a web site I frequent - and as Don Imus can tell you, trying to make a joke is the single fastest way towards starting some sort of flare-up that you can imagine. Making a directly racist, sexist or homophobic comment towards someone will not start trouble online or on the air faster than the abject sin of trying to be funny and flubbing it up by offending someone.
Oh, and that's what I did. In the middle of a thread of a person (person A) who's threads I usually avoid (more on that later) and I happened to miss that it was this person's thread because I was reading the post due to the fact that another poster (person B) had made a comment. There were a couple of comments made between posters that were funny (B and person C), and (why the hell isn't there an EWS for stupidity when writing posts? Because mine would probably burn out in the first month) I added my post, referencing A as I did so, because there's a longstanding, running joke about A and C.
A few minutes later, I recieved an IM from C, who mentioned that A didn't appreciate being joked about in that fashion, and asked if I'd not do it again. Okay. Somebody sees that you did something that wasn't kosher, gets in touch and says 'What you did was hurtful, and it was wrong. Would you please not do it again?' I can get behind this - after all, the reason we're all here is because this supposed to be fun, right?
I head back over to the web site to clean it up... too late. A had read that, and made a rude comment back. Now, what I should have done was just clean up my mess and go away (as I said, I usually avoid this person's postings), but noooooo! I'm an idiot that (on some level, but it is lessening) actually believes that modus vivendi is theoretically possible between anyone. I mde the stupid mistake of commenting on that. Of course, this led to that person making comments on how I'm blaag, blah, blah. That doesn't matter.
Three things about this do make me wonder, though.
1.) Why couldn't A simply send me a PM saying 'Look - you're not a total asshole, and maybe you haven't gotten the message before, so let me say it clearly. This bothers me when you do it. Please don't do it again'? Other people have done that before when I've made comments that they found offensive or that they believed that someone else would find offensive, and I immediately cleaned it up. No, I'm not about kissing ass or 'trying to make a happy world for everyone', but if I do something stupid, I DO try to walk it back.
2.) I wasn't trying to be offensive towards A in the first place - I was actually making light of C, and actually, not even thinking of A when I made that remark. Now, THAT could be considered a slap in the face to A - but then, I direct your attention to #1 above.
3.) There have been comments between myself and A in the past; as a result, I simply avoid responding to A's posts, even when they are on topics I find interesting. (Why even risk the chance of all of the stupid back-and-forth, because there's nothing I could say that A wouldn't and hasn't found insulting or patronizing, in their opinion.) However, in response to a comment A made on a specific movie star they found interesting, I found a photo online that I felt they might appreciate and just posted it as a courtesy. No commentary or anything. I guess that some people don't understand the subtle nuances of the concept known as the 'olive branch'... or stop to think or consider that if someone does that - then why would they deliberately stoop to insult you? Maybe they're trying to make nice...
Maybe it was just simply an honest mistake. Maybe they're just trying to just keep heading off in their own direction, slipped up, and simply made a mistake. A mistake. A misunderstanding. They were stupid.
There's an old story - I have no idea where it comes from - about two warring armies that had somehow manages to agree to sign an armistice. The two armies gathered at the appointed place for the signing; however, both sides were skepticaal of the other's true intent, and on the watch for the slightest sign of treachery. Just as the leaders were about to sign the treaty, a warrior on one side saw a asp sliding towards him and drew his sword to kill it. Rather than looking to see why he drew his sword, the opposite side unsheathed their eapons and attacked, setting off a slaughter.
Obviously, I don't see this - you can't even call it a disagreement - as anything near that story. However, it does being up one problem with posting online: if someone's looking to be offended, or expecting that, then that's all they'll see, even if you've tried to be nice to them. That's the problem about having to be around some people, or touching upon certain topics that they or others might present on the boards : you always have to walk on eggshells in their presence for fear of offending, even accidentally, and if you get into a flame war with them, then you'll never win (as if 'winning' was possible. It's words online). Long ago, a friend of mine once said that he wished that he could go back in time, so that he could 'un-know' certain people. I can see that, in that I sometimes wish that I'd never posted opinions on several threads.
There's another paassage in Pump Up The Volume that comes to mind as I write this:
And now, all my horny listeners, get one hand free - because yes, the 'eat me, beat me' lady is back.
Come in. Every night, you enter me like a criminal. You break into my brain, but you're no ordinary criminal. You put your feet up, you drink your can of Pepsi; you start to party, you turn up my stereo. Songs I've never heard, but I move anyway. You get me crazy - I say, 'Do it. I don't care just do it. Jam me, jack me, push me, pull me - talk hard!'
...
I like that. 'Talk Hard.' I like the idea that a voice can just go somewhere uninvited and just kind of hang out like a dirty thought in a nice clean mind. To me a thought is like a virus. You know, it can just kill all the healthy thoughts and just take over. That would be serious. I know all of my horny listeners would love it if I would call up the 'eat me, beat me' lady. But no! Because... she never encloses her number!
Always the same red paper, the same beautiful black writing. She's probably a lot like me: a legend in her own mind. But you know what - I bet in real life... she's probably not that wild. I bet she's kind of shy, like so many of us who briskly walk the halls, pretending to be late for some class, pretending to be distracted. Hey - poetry lady. Are you really this cool? Are you out there? Are you listening?
That's the funny thing about so many of the people that you 'meet' or 'run across' online... they're simply electronic personas that aren't that much (in most cases) the way they are in real life. The reason I bring this up? Because in the years I've been in a couple of online fandoms, I've had the pleasure to meet and/or speak with the actual persons I've encountered online... and oh, I know that I've come across as a blundering, barely-animated carcass with the IQ of soap scum in at least one occurence. (Yeah. That's a memory that resonates quite well for me. After I'm finished typing, I'll go hit my head against something somewhat hard a few times.) However, there are a few people who I would truly like to meet in real life. Not to start a fight, or an argument, or to even act belligerant towards. I would truly like to sit down across a table from a number of these people, haave a cup of tea (I am one of the few people in the world who's never had a cup of Starbucks coffee - let's see how long I can keep away...) and see if they're really anything remotely like the people they portray online.
Who knows? Maybe in real life, they're actually people worth knowing.
Of course, that means I have to clean up my act, too. Maybe I should shave the beard and keep it off... but I really hate shaving all of the time. Here's an idea - I'll find a way to transport myself back to Great Britain in the 19th Century and join the Royal Navy! That way, I can keep my beard, I'll get to travel, I won't have to think about online forums (and people won't have to read my bitchy whinings) - and best of all, I'll get some of that kick-ass Pusser's Rum that the Royal Navy issued to their sailors.
A double tot of rum. Maybe I should have some of that before I post - why bother typing when you could hoist a glass of excellent spirits in the service of His Majesty?
(P.S. - if anyone wants to get together for a friendly glass or two of rum, I think I could arrange that. Let's hold off until spring, though. I'll fire up the grill and throw on a few slabs of ribs, we'll get a few sides and sit outside in the breeze and have some decent conversation. Well... I'll just keep my mouth shut any let the smart people talk. Ilearn more new things that way.)
Monday, December 31, 2007
Sunday, December 30, 2007
An... unusual cover of 'Bad Day'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vQZLCNRYqMM
Because, sometimes, you just need a heavy dose of adorably cute - or annoying as hell, depending on your perspective.
Can you believe that this movie made almost ninety-five million dollars? Holy Mother of God! My brother saw in and said, quite plainly, the film was not worth eight dollars. Wait for it on cable or DVD, he said. (EDIT: I just red on Yahoo! News that the film's ending the year with a total of ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY-TWO MILLION DOLLARS! Oh. My. God. Now THAT'S a lot of acorns.)
Hmmn. The trailers do look cute as hell - and who is that babe who plays the housekeeper? I mean, if she can cause Simon to grow antlers, as well as fur in all of those, ahem, special places, well, you know she's hot!
Oh, yeah. Time for me to go off subject again, more or less - but I saw the clip of Dave and his ex-girlfriend Claire at dinner. That annoyed the hell out of me when she did that line about 'I'm glad we're like this - two friends, no pressure...' BULLSHIT! You KNOW why you're there! After the appropriate interval where you convince yourself that 'he likes you as a person', then you feel that you can release the self-imposed inhibitions on your lustful nature, have him strip you down to your bare essentials, take you to wherever and then have the guy (hopefully!) bang you like the dinner bell at a dude ranch!
Well, most women act like that. (Don't be fooled by the 'slutwear is in!' trend of the past decade - thanks, Britney! I'm sure your little sister appreciated the example you set for her - not only when she let some Nickelodeon exec on Zoey 101 have his way with her, but in how they had her boyfriend take the fall when she got knocked up. Can't wait to read the book the grandma's got coming out on child-rearing. A back-to-back Chris Rock-Robin Williams concert probably won't be as funny.) Most women - well, from what I've seen - still don't enjoy being seen as - well, use whatever term you prefer for 'morally loose woman who spreads her legs if the windspeed surpasses 10 MPH and invests in her own custom-made kneepads...'
Men, on the other hand, are ready for even the most foul and cursory sex at a moment's notice. I recall a doctor's visit I had back in late 2002. I hadn't been going out with anyone - the legs, and taking care of the parents - and the doc asks me 'the ususl questions'"
'Do you drink?'
'Infrequently.'
'Do you smoke?'
'Only when ignited. No. I've never smoked.'
'Are you sexually active?'
You know, one of my faults is that I really love to see the look in a person's eyes when his or her reality suddenly gets a good, hard shake. Now, I swear I didn't plan this ahead, or think about it - but when he asked me that, I stopped, looked him directly in the eye... and then burst out laughing. Real laughter. The laughter that comes when someone tells a joke that really hit the mark. A joke like the final one Mill Maher told in his show The Decider, when he pointed out that his favorite Bush Administration appointee was a gynecologist who was anally raping his wife during the course of their marriage while she was asleep - and when confronted about it, said that he had mistaken her anus for her vagina. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you - the Bush Administration!"
The doctor looks at me and blinks - hard - before finding his voice. "Uh... are you not having sex because you're gay?"
Time to hit his cortex with another shockwave: "Hell, no! If I were gay, I'd be getting it right and left!"
Now, before anyone says that I'm insulting gay men, let me remind you that - gay or straight - all men are hard-wired to have a specific attitude towards sex, and yes, it is an attitude that can be controlled in a number of ways. On the same token, women are all hard-wired in the fashion - to have a specific attitude towards sex that a number of factors can moderate.
It's biology. It's The Way Things Are.
I guess, then, that that scene shouldn't bother me so much. It's simply a reflection of reality, more or less.
Hmn. With that, we get back on the tracks, and enjoy the wacky adventures of Alvin and the boys trying to hook Dave up. Guys - next time, set him up with the housekeeper. Nice...
Because, sometimes, you just need a heavy dose of adorably cute - or annoying as hell, depending on your perspective.
Can you believe that this movie made almost ninety-five million dollars? Holy Mother of God! My brother saw in and said, quite plainly, the film was not worth eight dollars. Wait for it on cable or DVD, he said. (EDIT: I just red on Yahoo! News that the film's ending the year with a total of ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY-TWO MILLION DOLLARS! Oh. My. God. Now THAT'S a lot of acorns.)
Hmmn. The trailers do look cute as hell - and who is that babe who plays the housekeeper? I mean, if she can cause Simon to grow antlers, as well as fur in all of those, ahem, special places, well, you know she's hot!
Oh, yeah. Time for me to go off subject again, more or less - but I saw the clip of Dave and his ex-girlfriend Claire at dinner. That annoyed the hell out of me when she did that line about 'I'm glad we're like this - two friends, no pressure...' BULLSHIT! You KNOW why you're there! After the appropriate interval where you convince yourself that 'he likes you as a person', then you feel that you can release the self-imposed inhibitions on your lustful nature, have him strip you down to your bare essentials, take you to wherever and then have the guy (hopefully!) bang you like the dinner bell at a dude ranch!
Well, most women act like that. (Don't be fooled by the 'slutwear is in!' trend of the past decade - thanks, Britney! I'm sure your little sister appreciated the example you set for her - not only when she let some Nickelodeon exec on Zoey 101 have his way with her, but in how they had her boyfriend take the fall when she got knocked up. Can't wait to read the book the grandma's got coming out on child-rearing. A back-to-back Chris Rock-Robin Williams concert probably won't be as funny.) Most women - well, from what I've seen - still don't enjoy being seen as - well, use whatever term you prefer for 'morally loose woman who spreads her legs if the windspeed surpasses 10 MPH and invests in her own custom-made kneepads...'
Men, on the other hand, are ready for even the most foul and cursory sex at a moment's notice. I recall a doctor's visit I had back in late 2002. I hadn't been going out with anyone - the legs, and taking care of the parents - and the doc asks me 'the ususl questions'"
'Do you drink?'
'Infrequently.'
'Do you smoke?'
'Only when ignited. No. I've never smoked.'
'Are you sexually active?'
You know, one of my faults is that I really love to see the look in a person's eyes when his or her reality suddenly gets a good, hard shake. Now, I swear I didn't plan this ahead, or think about it - but when he asked me that, I stopped, looked him directly in the eye... and then burst out laughing. Real laughter. The laughter that comes when someone tells a joke that really hit the mark. A joke like the final one Mill Maher told in his show The Decider, when he pointed out that his favorite Bush Administration appointee was a gynecologist who was anally raping his wife during the course of their marriage while she was asleep - and when confronted about it, said that he had mistaken her anus for her vagina. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you - the Bush Administration!"
The doctor looks at me and blinks - hard - before finding his voice. "Uh... are you not having sex because you're gay?"
Time to hit his cortex with another shockwave: "Hell, no! If I were gay, I'd be getting it right and left!"
Now, before anyone says that I'm insulting gay men, let me remind you that - gay or straight - all men are hard-wired to have a specific attitude towards sex, and yes, it is an attitude that can be controlled in a number of ways. On the same token, women are all hard-wired in the fashion - to have a specific attitude towards sex that a number of factors can moderate.
It's biology. It's The Way Things Are.
I guess, then, that that scene shouldn't bother me so much. It's simply a reflection of reality, more or less.
Hmn. With that, we get back on the tracks, and enjoy the wacky adventures of Alvin and the boys trying to hook Dave up. Guys - next time, set him up with the housekeeper. Nice...
Saturday, December 29, 2007
How far can I push the edge...? (NSFW)
Okay.
In one of my first posts, I posted a photo. Of course, it offended the dear and tender sensibilities of one viewer, who immediately labeled it as porn.
In retrospect, I should have labeled that post as NSFW (as one insightful lady pointed out). I apologize now for offending anyone who may have inadvertantly viewed that photo and was emotionally scarred by the sight of a semi-clohed, beautiful young woman. Now, having done that, I now present other images that may not be safe for the delicate eyes of some other viewers.
You are hereby warned that sensititve viewers may be shocked and appaled by the graphic and possible controversial images presented within this post. Please - consider yourself warned before proceeding further.
Behold - the wages of the Deadly Sin of Gluttonty... and of allowing the young to engage in such activities! For shame! Where are the parents?
My God - that Tribble is NAKED!
If even one small, adorable kitten takes up arms and engages in a violent, bloody shooting rampage because I posted this photo... I don't think that I could live with myself.
End of line.
In one of my first posts, I posted a photo. Of course, it offended the dear and tender sensibilities of one viewer, who immediately labeled it as porn.
In retrospect, I should have labeled that post as NSFW (as one insightful lady pointed out). I apologize now for offending anyone who may have inadvertantly viewed that photo and was emotionally scarred by the sight of a semi-clohed, beautiful young woman. Now, having done that, I now present other images that may not be safe for the delicate eyes of some other viewers.
You are hereby warned that sensititve viewers may be shocked and appaled by the graphic and possible controversial images presented within this post. Please - consider yourself warned before proceeding further.
Behold - the wages of the Deadly Sin of Gluttonty... and of allowing the young to engage in such activities! For shame! Where are the parents?
My God - that Tribble is NAKED!
It's a large slice of pie - there's cream on top - and there's a fork next to it! What kind of salacious messages will people get from such a lurid image? What debauched, unholy pleasures will this photo entice good people into?
Oh, no. A photo of Captain Elizabeth Lochley out of uniform, in an obviously suggestive posture and wearing attire that no person currently in the Armed Forces should EVER be seen in! Quick - let's deprive our world of a highly trained, experienced and valuable military asset because she made the mistake of dressing in an outfit - before she joined the military - that most other women only wish they could wear as well!
If even one small, adorable kitten takes up arms and engages in a violent, bloody shooting rampage because I posted this photo... I don't think that I could live with myself.End of line.
All I need is a lobotomy and some tights
You want to know what pisses me off? The attitude some people have that, unless you're at a certain point of 'growth' at a specific time in your lifespan, you're just not trying hard enough, or that you're just not good enough to be seen in their presence.
Case in point. I'm not married, and I'm not dating. Some would argue this as proof beyond refute of the innate superior intellectual capability of the human female. Some would say that it's simply because I don't have the scratch necessary to pull down a woman. Most would say that I'm simply not trying.
Let's go with the third option for the moment. To quote Robert Heinlein, sex is everywhere; it's silly to pay for it. (That being said, there's a lot of guys - and more than a few women - who've taken Richard Gere's character in Pretty Woman and his attitude to heart, and feel that simply going to a person who specializes in that particular occupation when the urge arises is a better option. In their eyes, it's simply easier than dealing with the endless sub-munitions that litter the landscape of every relationship just for some sex.
Not that I'm against a 'relationship'. In fact, let's be honest about it - if you can find someone who actually likes you, enjoys having sex with you a good portion of the time you both actually deign to have it, isn't ashamed to be seen in public with you and (to your surprise) is actually there at your side when something really bad happens instead of leaving a contrail as they head out of the gravity well to the point where they can make the jump to hyperspace... that's a good thing. (Of course, here's hoping that you have the common sense to give as good as you get.)
What I am against is the belief that some people have that I'm supposed to be with someone - based on their idea of who that someone I'm supposed to be with is. It's for this reason that, on general principle, I hate the concept of blind dates. (Of course, the fact that I'm ugly enough to scare a starving pit bull off the back of a meat truck must also come into consideration. I am so very tired of women screaming like the Bride of Frankenstien and then doing their 'Marion Jones on go-juice' impression as they dash out of the cafe. A man can get the impression that women don't think very much of him after that happens a few times.) Nevertheless, who others think you might be good with is only part of the problem.
Another part? Your own unrealistic expectations. I'll let you simmer over that for a moment as you think not of the girl or guy that you'd like to be with, but the type of guy or girl that you think that you deserve to be with. (To be honest, this is a problem only with the very arrogant, the very snobbish, the very delusional, and anyone who looks like any character on a FOX Network or WB / CW Network program since 1989... when 90210 premiered.)
Hell, I'm a fan of the old-fashioned way of meeting someone... you just run into them somewhere, and say, 'Hmn. That's an interesting person...' As for me, with one exception, every woman that I've ever had a real interest in, the whole thing started with us not being able to stand each other. I have a horrible tendancy to let whatever's on my mind slip out - or worse, it was only when I got older when I realized that women really don't mean that they actually want to know what your opinion is or what you're thinking about. (Oh, God - PLEASE don't fall for the oldest trap in the book - 'Please tell me the truth...') They NEVER want to hear that! They want you to tell them whatever it is a fast-thinking or slick-as-hell guy can come up with on the spur of the moment to say that'll allow them to say to themselves, 'Yeah. I can believe that.' (The last five minutes of The Godfather is a textbook example of this.) Of course, once they got past the 'You're an absolute bastard' part, I guess they decided that I was all right, after all.
Back on the tracks of the subject again...Just because you're married, or you're in a relationship, or you're going out every not and then to bang or get banged by something - well, that doesn't mean that I have to follow along with you and your social ilk just to provide some sort of moral edification that your lifestyle is The Right Way, and that if I got my head in the game and followed along, well, then I'd be just as happy as you think you are right now! I've got a message for all of you matchmakers out there who want to pair everyone off into 'happy little couples'...
...
(Please, think of the worst possible think that you can imagine being called by someone, take it up three notches, and then envision Samuel L. Jackson being incredibly pissed on and totally uncaring about hurting your feelings or your mothers' feelings if she were there, too, as he says those things. That's the messge I have for all of you 'matchmakers'.)
Oh, and for the record, my parents were married for fifty-one years. On the flip side, I have five brothers and a sister. Each of them has been divorced at least once, for a current total of thirteen divorces.
Thank God I'm just too damned ugly to really need worry about any of this, regardless of what people think (if you want to actually consider the mental processes of most persons as 'thinking'). Oh, well. I'll have to find some way of 'relieving myself' when the urge arises...
Wonder what's on Cinemax late-night this evening?
Case in point. I'm not married, and I'm not dating. Some would argue this as proof beyond refute of the innate superior intellectual capability of the human female. Some would say that it's simply because I don't have the scratch necessary to pull down a woman. Most would say that I'm simply not trying.
Let's go with the third option for the moment. To quote Robert Heinlein, sex is everywhere; it's silly to pay for it. (That being said, there's a lot of guys - and more than a few women - who've taken Richard Gere's character in Pretty Woman and his attitude to heart, and feel that simply going to a person who specializes in that particular occupation when the urge arises is a better option. In their eyes, it's simply easier than dealing with the endless sub-munitions that litter the landscape of every relationship just for some sex.
Not that I'm against a 'relationship'. In fact, let's be honest about it - if you can find someone who actually likes you, enjoys having sex with you a good portion of the time you both actually deign to have it, isn't ashamed to be seen in public with you and (to your surprise) is actually there at your side when something really bad happens instead of leaving a contrail as they head out of the gravity well to the point where they can make the jump to hyperspace... that's a good thing. (Of course, here's hoping that you have the common sense to give as good as you get.)
What I am against is the belief that some people have that I'm supposed to be with someone - based on their idea of who that someone I'm supposed to be with is. It's for this reason that, on general principle, I hate the concept of blind dates. (Of course, the fact that I'm ugly enough to scare a starving pit bull off the back of a meat truck must also come into consideration. I am so very tired of women screaming like the Bride of Frankenstien and then doing their 'Marion Jones on go-juice' impression as they dash out of the cafe. A man can get the impression that women don't think very much of him after that happens a few times.) Nevertheless, who others think you might be good with is only part of the problem.
Another part? Your own unrealistic expectations. I'll let you simmer over that for a moment as you think not of the girl or guy that you'd like to be with, but the type of guy or girl that you think that you deserve to be with. (To be honest, this is a problem only with the very arrogant, the very snobbish, the very delusional, and anyone who looks like any character on a FOX Network or WB / CW Network program since 1989... when 90210 premiered.)
Hell, I'm a fan of the old-fashioned way of meeting someone... you just run into them somewhere, and say, 'Hmn. That's an interesting person...' As for me, with one exception, every woman that I've ever had a real interest in, the whole thing started with us not being able to stand each other. I have a horrible tendancy to let whatever's on my mind slip out - or worse, it was only when I got older when I realized that women really don't mean that they actually want to know what your opinion is or what you're thinking about. (Oh, God - PLEASE don't fall for the oldest trap in the book - 'Please tell me the truth...') They NEVER want to hear that! They want you to tell them whatever it is a fast-thinking or slick-as-hell guy can come up with on the spur of the moment to say that'll allow them to say to themselves, 'Yeah. I can believe that.' (The last five minutes of The Godfather is a textbook example of this.) Of course, once they got past the 'You're an absolute bastard' part, I guess they decided that I was all right, after all.
Back on the tracks of the subject again...Just because you're married, or you're in a relationship, or you're going out every not and then to bang or get banged by something - well, that doesn't mean that I have to follow along with you and your social ilk just to provide some sort of moral edification that your lifestyle is The Right Way, and that if I got my head in the game and followed along, well, then I'd be just as happy as you think you are right now! I've got a message for all of you matchmakers out there who want to pair everyone off into 'happy little couples'...
...
(Please, think of the worst possible think that you can imagine being called by someone, take it up three notches, and then envision Samuel L. Jackson being incredibly pissed on and totally uncaring about hurting your feelings or your mothers' feelings if she were there, too, as he says those things. That's the messge I have for all of you 'matchmakers'.)
Oh, and for the record, my parents were married for fifty-one years. On the flip side, I have five brothers and a sister. Each of them has been divorced at least once, for a current total of thirteen divorces.
Thank God I'm just too damned ugly to really need worry about any of this, regardless of what people think (if you want to actually consider the mental processes of most persons as 'thinking'). Oh, well. I'll have to find some way of 'relieving myself' when the urge arises...
Wonder what's on Cinemax late-night this evening?
Friday, December 28, 2007
After the world goes 'Stop! Stop! Oh, God, it hurts...!'
http://www.pamedia.com/
THis is the web site of Post-Apocalyptic Media - basically, all that and more dealing after the world goes 'Boom', falls over from some super-bug, the aliens show up and go 'Now, you're going to be my little bitch!', and what happens to the world afterwards.
Give it a look.
I don't know... I've always been interested in post-apocalyptic fiction.
The Stand - more the novel, VERY less so the ABC miniseries... Harold Emery Lauder as a Nazi-type and oh, did they REALLY frak up Nadine Cross... Laura San Giocomo as Nadine? Jesus, that's GOT to be the worst piece of miscasting since Mary Elizabeth Mastriantonio as Maid Marian in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves! (gags reflexively) You know who would have made a great Nadine? Lindsay Sloane, from Sabrina, The Teenage Witch (who, if she were the right age, would make a perfect Stacy Rowe for a live-action Daria film).
Jericho. Can't wait for it to come back in February.
Captain Power and The Soldiers of the Future. If you don't remember this, it ran for one season - 1987-1988. It was the work of the great J. Michael Strazinski - the big man who created my personal favorite show of all time, Babylon 5. It had the hallmarks of what makes J. Michael a hell of a creator, and you have GOT to see the last episode, when - ah, that would be telling. One thing about J. Michael is that he's always been able to elicit emotion out of, and bring a level of understanding about even his 'evil' characters. You can see this in the way he wrote Overlord, and that last episode...
Robotech. Yes, I know that Cark Macek's name in anime circles is akin to Adolf Hitler's; to all of those people, I have only one thing to say. Watch Episode Eighteen - Farewell, Big Brother. Also, any show where they damn near zero off the human race not once but THREE times, and once by the Earth military commanders themselves... well, that show deserves a chance.
Oh, yeah. Wouldn't Lynn-Minmei be PERFECT for the Lawndale High School Fashion Club?
Miracle Mile. This film about the last hour or so before nuclear war is Last Night.. the Lite version. At least somebody has hope... and the most terrifying moment of the film?
"Put down the phone... and go back to sleep."
A Boy and His Dog. Give it a chance.
Silent Running. Damn. The last shot, of the little robot maintaining the forest dome...
Fallout and its sequel, Fallout II. Oh, to have Mark II Power Armor, a couple of Gauss pistols, plenty of ammo and Stimpacks, as well as a few Super Stimpacks, some Rad-X, Radaway, Psycho, Jet and Mentats? Hello, world after the bomb! You're going to be my bitch!
Take everything I've mentioned, and walk through the Mob bars in Reno, or the Sierra Army Depot...
The Mad Max series of films. They make me smile.
The Ashes series of novels. William W. Johnstone (and his ghost-writers) had a really solid handle on Mankind after the bomb... and the last novel puts a perfect capper to it all. Bonus points for the Night People/Believers.
Resident Evil. The games or the movies... lots and lots of Zombies, and fewer and fewer humans. That asshole redneck S.T.A.R.S. officer with the cowboy hat on the roof DESERVED to get blown up - come on! You're shooting everything else that doesn't look human in the forehead and dropping in where it stands, but Nemesis comes walking around the corner with enough artillery to make Xena's nipples go harder than True Adamantium and you suddenly forgo all that 'head shot' stuff for 'center of body mass'?
Give props, though, for one very funny moment:
Deep Impact. Everyone says it's 'more realistic' than Armageddon, which came out in roughly the same time-frame... BULLSHIT! There was a time when I was thisdamnclose to becoming a reporter, and I can tell you that the reporter does not exist who could possess all of the qualities that Tea Leoni's character of Jenny Lerner had (not to mention the position she rose to) and WOULD GIVE IT ALL UP TO COMMIT SUICIDE WITH HER FATHER BY STANDING ON A BEACH AND GETTING HIT BY THE BITCH QUEEN-MOTHER OF ALL TSUNAMIS, rather than (at least) be there with a camera crew doing a live shot as to what's happening on the beach as the wave comes in!
Oh, and don't give me that 'there are some things more important than...(insert your bullshit belief here) line, either. Man is an animal, and if nothing else, will fuck his children, wife, siblings, parents or dearest friends over in order to survive, win or keep anyone else from doing the same! There's a line from the Helen/Quinn duet in the MTV series Daria's musical episode 'Daria!' that really says it all:
Coming in second wouldn't be the worst
As long as no one else was first.
Oh, yeah. I have faith in human nature, which is why I like post-apocalyptic media. It's a refreshingly honest look at humanity. Bitches and bastards who'll do anything to survive.
THis is the web site of Post-Apocalyptic Media - basically, all that and more dealing after the world goes 'Boom', falls over from some super-bug, the aliens show up and go 'Now, you're going to be my little bitch!', and what happens to the world afterwards.
Give it a look.
I don't know... I've always been interested in post-apocalyptic fiction.
The Stand - more the novel, VERY less so the ABC miniseries... Harold Emery Lauder as a Nazi-type and oh, did they REALLY frak up Nadine Cross... Laura San Giocomo as Nadine? Jesus, that's GOT to be the worst piece of miscasting since Mary Elizabeth Mastriantonio as Maid Marian in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves! (gags reflexively) You know who would have made a great Nadine? Lindsay Sloane, from Sabrina, The Teenage Witch (who, if she were the right age, would make a perfect Stacy Rowe for a live-action Daria film).
Jericho. Can't wait for it to come back in February.
Captain Power and The Soldiers of the Future. If you don't remember this, it ran for one season - 1987-1988. It was the work of the great J. Michael Strazinski - the big man who created my personal favorite show of all time, Babylon 5. It had the hallmarks of what makes J. Michael a hell of a creator, and you have GOT to see the last episode, when - ah, that would be telling. One thing about J. Michael is that he's always been able to elicit emotion out of, and bring a level of understanding about even his 'evil' characters. You can see this in the way he wrote Overlord, and that last episode...
Robotech. Yes, I know that Cark Macek's name in anime circles is akin to Adolf Hitler's; to all of those people, I have only one thing to say. Watch Episode Eighteen - Farewell, Big Brother. Also, any show where they damn near zero off the human race not once but THREE times, and once by the Earth military commanders themselves... well, that show deserves a chance.
Oh, yeah. Wouldn't Lynn-Minmei be PERFECT for the Lawndale High School Fashion Club?
Miracle Mile. This film about the last hour or so before nuclear war is Last Night.. the Lite version. At least somebody has hope... and the most terrifying moment of the film?
"Put down the phone... and go back to sleep."
A Boy and His Dog. Give it a chance.
Silent Running. Damn. The last shot, of the little robot maintaining the forest dome...
Fallout and its sequel, Fallout II. Oh, to have Mark II Power Armor, a couple of Gauss pistols, plenty of ammo and Stimpacks, as well as a few Super Stimpacks, some Rad-X, Radaway, Psycho, Jet and Mentats? Hello, world after the bomb! You're going to be my bitch!
Take everything I've mentioned, and walk through the Mob bars in Reno, or the Sierra Army Depot...
The Mad Max series of films. They make me smile.
The Ashes series of novels. William W. Johnstone (and his ghost-writers) had a really solid handle on Mankind after the bomb... and the last novel puts a perfect capper to it all. Bonus points for the Night People/Believers.
Resident Evil. The games or the movies... lots and lots of Zombies, and fewer and fewer humans. That asshole redneck S.T.A.R.S. officer with the cowboy hat on the roof DESERVED to get blown up - come on! You're shooting everything else that doesn't look human in the forehead and dropping in where it stands, but Nemesis comes walking around the corner with enough artillery to make Xena's nipples go harder than True Adamantium and you suddenly forgo all that 'head shot' stuff for 'center of body mass'?
Give props, though, for one very funny moment:
Deep Impact. Everyone says it's 'more realistic' than Armageddon, which came out in roughly the same time-frame... BULLSHIT! There was a time when I was thisdamnclose to becoming a reporter, and I can tell you that the reporter does not exist who could possess all of the qualities that Tea Leoni's character of Jenny Lerner had (not to mention the position she rose to) and WOULD GIVE IT ALL UP TO COMMIT SUICIDE WITH HER FATHER BY STANDING ON A BEACH AND GETTING HIT BY THE BITCH QUEEN-MOTHER OF ALL TSUNAMIS, rather than (at least) be there with a camera crew doing a live shot as to what's happening on the beach as the wave comes in!
Oh, and don't give me that 'there are some things more important than...(insert your bullshit belief here) line, either. Man is an animal, and if nothing else, will fuck his children, wife, siblings, parents or dearest friends over in order to survive, win or keep anyone else from doing the same! There's a line from the Helen/Quinn duet in the MTV series Daria's musical episode 'Daria!' that really says it all:
Coming in second wouldn't be the worst
As long as no one else was first.
Oh, yeah. I have faith in human nature, which is why I like post-apocalyptic media. It's a refreshingly honest look at humanity. Bitches and bastards who'll do anything to survive.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Thirteen things I'd REALLY like to see in 2008...
1. Thunderdome instead of the Democratic and Republican conventions - and we make it pay-per-view. Finally, there's something good on TV, its educational ('Mom! What was that thing Huckabee did to Thompson that took him out?' 'Well, son, that was a reverse spin kick, followed up by a spear-hand strike to his throat, which did some severe damage... go get the laptop, and we'll look up it up on Wikipedia...'), and the government finally operates in the black for a few weeks.
2. My toes - when I stand up straight and look down. Just kidding... but who among us couldn't stand to lose weight?
3. More realistic soft-core porn on the late-night cable shows. (Waits for the laughter to die down.) I mean, nobody gets up out of the bed after they've been going at it like two dogs out in the middle of the Wal-Mart parking lot and reaches for a towel first thing, hits the shower, or rolls the rubber off and tosses it into the wastebasket! EWWWWWWWW! What about the children? Think about the children! These things need to be more realistic!
4. Less - fucking - reality - TV. You know, back when I was little, they had reality TV shows back then, too. They were called DOCUMENTARIES. Maybe the networks could put a few more of them on, so the kids (and maybe some of us adults) could learn more than 'how to form an alliance'.
5. More attractive women of all age groups on the air, of all races and social backgrounds. Hey, we 've all gotta refill the spank-bank somehow, you know!
6. For Chuck Bartowski to break up with Agent Sarah Walker in a realistic fashion; a good hard grudge-fuck, and then, he simply doesn't notice her calls anymore and happens to have made dates with other girls or he's hanging out with best bud Morgan, a twelve of Michelob and a couple of blunts the size of the Space Shuttle's main fuel tank. Dude. Out of your league, and she's going to hurt you real bad. Tap that ass the next chance you get and then break camp - I mean, flush out your headgear, new guy! Agent Casey's got your number! (Geez. Talk about 'the thanks of a grateful nation.' Uncle Sam isn't even giving him a check for services rendered, or cutting him a deal on the 1040 for the year.)A quick dip of Chuck's corn dog in the steamer back at Weinerlicious should be arranged, if you get my drift. It's the least they can do.
7. Less Katie Couric. Sorry, but I want Bob back. I look at Katie and two words come to mind: 'cuddly bedwarmer'. Not to knock your jorrnalistic expertise, but I was one of those twenty-seven persons who wasn't ever watching you on Today and got up for Good Morning America instead - and if I didn't want to catch you back then when your nice legs and cuddly attitude would have been great to wake up to, why do I want to see you now when I want to focus on what Vladmir and Shrubya are up to instead of your nice little rack? It's not that you're a woman - it's that you're softballing CBS into third place.
8. Jumper. I'll watch ANYTHING with Samuel L. Jackson in it (except Jungle Fever and Snakes on a Plane. He reminds me too much of one of my older brothers (during a very bad phase of his life) in the former, and as for the latter... I simply haven't gotten up the nerve yet. That says a lot, because I watched BOTH Amos and Andrew, and National Lampoon's Loaded Weapon 1! I specifically want to see him look at Hayden Christenson with that little gleam in his eye that says, 'Hey, motherfucker! Remember when you played me like a bitch in Episode III - Revenge of the Sith? Took my hands off because you wanted to hang on to one five-dollar piece of ass when you could have been rolling in a thousand and one flavors of pussy after we took Palpatine off the map and we put your needing a haircut self up on the Council? Bitch, I'm gonna turn you out so many ways that the folks who made Oz is gonna think that that's too much assrape!'
9. For everyone involved in the conception, approval and writing of the hideously insipid 'Jared Banks pretends he's a Buchanan' storyline on One Life To Live to be lined up and bitch-slapped so hard that as they try to regain their senses, they could each swear that they heard someone yelling at them 'Bitch, where's my money?' If you haven't seen the show, you won't understand - and if you have, you probably wish that you could be there at the slapping with a pair of broken-in leather gloves.
10. More of the Reverend Brian Darling (Glenn Fitzgerald) on ABC's guilty pleasure Dirty Sexy Money. I wouldn't mind seeing more of Lisa George (Zoe McLellan), either.
11. More of Alexandra Steele and Liz Claman, in the outfits that they used to wear all of the time. (Trust me. This would be a good thing.)
12. Programs for the kids that, if they have to watch SOMETHING, then this wouldn't be so bad. Remember Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom? WGN's Family Classics with Frasier Thomas? The Disney Sunday Movie? Hell, Jonny Quest rocked, and Land of the Lost wasn't bad, either! (Note to TPTB at Warner Brothers. Bring the Timmverse back. NOW. It was good television.)
13. As little of the 'Bimbo Summit' girls - Britney, Lindsay and Paris - as humanly possible. Also add into that wish all of the family members (oh, and we're going to get our fill of Jaime-Lynn come the summer!), hangers-on and acceptable fill-ins, should any of them regain their dignity and common sense and be unable to fulfill the duties of their position at the Summit. There's other things in the world to cover. (Along those lines, a basket of warm muffins and honey mead for Mika Brzezinski. Would all reporters and news anchors follow her example.)
End of line.
2. My toes - when I stand up straight and look down. Just kidding... but who among us couldn't stand to lose weight?
3. More realistic soft-core porn on the late-night cable shows. (Waits for the laughter to die down.) I mean, nobody gets up out of the bed after they've been going at it like two dogs out in the middle of the Wal-Mart parking lot and reaches for a towel first thing, hits the shower, or rolls the rubber off and tosses it into the wastebasket! EWWWWWWWW! What about the children? Think about the children! These things need to be more realistic!
4. Less - fucking - reality - TV. You know, back when I was little, they had reality TV shows back then, too. They were called DOCUMENTARIES. Maybe the networks could put a few more of them on, so the kids (and maybe some of us adults) could learn more than 'how to form an alliance'.
5. More attractive women of all age groups on the air, of all races and social backgrounds. Hey, we 've all gotta refill the spank-bank somehow, you know!
6. For Chuck Bartowski to break up with Agent Sarah Walker in a realistic fashion; a good hard grudge-fuck, and then, he simply doesn't notice her calls anymore and happens to have made dates with other girls or he's hanging out with best bud Morgan, a twelve of Michelob and a couple of blunts the size of the Space Shuttle's main fuel tank. Dude. Out of your league, and she's going to hurt you real bad. Tap that ass the next chance you get and then break camp - I mean, flush out your headgear, new guy! Agent Casey's got your number! (Geez. Talk about 'the thanks of a grateful nation.' Uncle Sam isn't even giving him a check for services rendered, or cutting him a deal on the 1040 for the year.)A quick dip of Chuck's corn dog in the steamer back at Weinerlicious should be arranged, if you get my drift. It's the least they can do.
7. Less Katie Couric. Sorry, but I want Bob back. I look at Katie and two words come to mind: 'cuddly bedwarmer'. Not to knock your jorrnalistic expertise, but I was one of those twenty-seven persons who wasn't ever watching you on Today and got up for Good Morning America instead - and if I didn't want to catch you back then when your nice legs and cuddly attitude would have been great to wake up to, why do I want to see you now when I want to focus on what Vladmir and Shrubya are up to instead of your nice little rack? It's not that you're a woman - it's that you're softballing CBS into third place.
8. Jumper. I'll watch ANYTHING with Samuel L. Jackson in it (except Jungle Fever and Snakes on a Plane. He reminds me too much of one of my older brothers (during a very bad phase of his life) in the former, and as for the latter... I simply haven't gotten up the nerve yet. That says a lot, because I watched BOTH Amos and Andrew, and National Lampoon's Loaded Weapon 1! I specifically want to see him look at Hayden Christenson with that little gleam in his eye that says, 'Hey, motherfucker! Remember when you played me like a bitch in Episode III - Revenge of the Sith? Took my hands off because you wanted to hang on to one five-dollar piece of ass when you could have been rolling in a thousand and one flavors of pussy after we took Palpatine off the map and we put your needing a haircut self up on the Council? Bitch, I'm gonna turn you out so many ways that the folks who made Oz is gonna think that that's too much assrape!'
9. For everyone involved in the conception, approval and writing of the hideously insipid 'Jared Banks pretends he's a Buchanan' storyline on One Life To Live to be lined up and bitch-slapped so hard that as they try to regain their senses, they could each swear that they heard someone yelling at them 'Bitch, where's my money?' If you haven't seen the show, you won't understand - and if you have, you probably wish that you could be there at the slapping with a pair of broken-in leather gloves.
10. More of the Reverend Brian Darling (Glenn Fitzgerald) on ABC's guilty pleasure Dirty Sexy Money. I wouldn't mind seeing more of Lisa George (Zoe McLellan), either.
11. More of Alexandra Steele and Liz Claman, in the outfits that they used to wear all of the time. (Trust me. This would be a good thing.)
12. Programs for the kids that, if they have to watch SOMETHING, then this wouldn't be so bad. Remember Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom? WGN's Family Classics with Frasier Thomas? The Disney Sunday Movie? Hell, Jonny Quest rocked, and Land of the Lost wasn't bad, either! (Note to TPTB at Warner Brothers. Bring the Timmverse back. NOW. It was good television.)
13. As little of the 'Bimbo Summit' girls - Britney, Lindsay and Paris - as humanly possible. Also add into that wish all of the family members (oh, and we're going to get our fill of Jaime-Lynn come the summer!), hangers-on and acceptable fill-ins, should any of them regain their dignity and common sense and be unable to fulfill the duties of their position at the Summit. There's other things in the world to cover. (Along those lines, a basket of warm muffins and honey mead for Mika Brzezinski. Would all reporters and news anchors follow her example.)
End of line.
Eleven Months - and One Christmas...
Tonight, in the Spring Grove subdivision in Peoria, Il., a group of people held a praver vigil for an eleven-year-old baby girl who died as a result of injuries she sustained in a fire on Wednesday, December 26. It was about 1:00 am, and the fire - its origins currently unknown - tore through the house in the suburb. Five people made it out, and the baby - little Anariah West - was in her crib as her grandmother sustained severe burns as she made several futile attempts to get through the flames and smoke to get to the child after rescuing another granddaughter.
Two dogs also perished in the fire - one of the dogs was found by the firefighers who rescued the child with its body curled around her. He died trying to protect her. To paraphrase Tom Clancy, 'That dog earned his place in Valhalla, and that's for damned sure.'
The firefighters revived Anariah en route to the hospital; sadly, she passed away soon after.
She had one year. One Independance Day. One Halloween. One Thanksgiving Day, where she probably sat happily in her chair as her family gathered around her.
She had one Christmas. Bright, sparkling lights, a glimmering Christmas tree, toys that made her wide eyes shine with happiness.
I look back at the past year of my life; trust me when I think back and say that - for the most part - it was truly unpleasant. Long story short; it was as if after everything I've done over the past eight years amounted to absolutely nothing, and almost everyone I know has turned their backs on me to let me drift in the wind... as if the last eight years of my life were a big joke that they all enjoyed. While I was doing the things that they couldn't or wouldn't do (and some of them actually came right out and said was my duty to do, and that I should put put my life on hold to do it), once it was over, they all decided in unison, 'Well, since we don't have to worry about that, or those people needing to be taken care of anymore... we really don't need to know you anymore." After a while, if you're not careful, you could start down the road to bitterness... or, at least get more than a bit pissed off.
Then, I look at the fact that this baby had only one year.
Back in college, in the 1980's my favorite comic was a book called Strikeforce; Morituri. The tagline was 'The ultimate power. The ultimate honor. The ultimate sacrifice.' Set in the mid-21st Century, the comic focused on a process to give people superpowers to help fight off an alien invasion of Earth - but with three provisions:
1.) Only a very select few are eligible biologically for the process.
2.) There's no telling what powers will be created by the process.
3.) Within one year of being subjected to the process - you will die.
The premise could be encapsulated in a single phrase: 'If you knew that you were going to die sometime in the next year, how would you live that year out?' Simply go about doing your job, like everyone expects? Act out in ways you'd never consider if you weren't in this position - and if so, they why didn't you do that before? Make every day could for something in a way that means something to you, and to the people around you - the people that matter to you most of all?
If I were to die Monday night - December 31 - I'd feel slightly ashamed. I did a couple of things this year that I can feel proud about, but for the most part, I spent it trying to balance myself on the event horizon of existance... like most of the people out there in the world today.
This baby, though... she spent a lifetime with eyes wide open, soaking in a world that she found larger than life, with every day a Ringquest, every room a New World, and every time her family took her somewhere in their car - it was a trip through the Delta Quadrant. I listened to her family talk about the kid. She gave them purpose, and love, and a new view on the world around them.
For one year, she gave them a reason to smile every morning.
Not a bad epitaph for a tiny little bundle like her. We should all be so lucky, someday.
http://www.week.com/news/local/12848712.html
Two dogs also perished in the fire - one of the dogs was found by the firefighers who rescued the child with its body curled around her. He died trying to protect her. To paraphrase Tom Clancy, 'That dog earned his place in Valhalla, and that's for damned sure.'
The firefighters revived Anariah en route to the hospital; sadly, she passed away soon after.
She had one year. One Independance Day. One Halloween. One Thanksgiving Day, where she probably sat happily in her chair as her family gathered around her.
She had one Christmas. Bright, sparkling lights, a glimmering Christmas tree, toys that made her wide eyes shine with happiness.
I look back at the past year of my life; trust me when I think back and say that - for the most part - it was truly unpleasant. Long story short; it was as if after everything I've done over the past eight years amounted to absolutely nothing, and almost everyone I know has turned their backs on me to let me drift in the wind... as if the last eight years of my life were a big joke that they all enjoyed. While I was doing the things that they couldn't or wouldn't do (and some of them actually came right out and said was my duty to do, and that I should put put my life on hold to do it), once it was over, they all decided in unison, 'Well, since we don't have to worry about that, or those people needing to be taken care of anymore... we really don't need to know you anymore." After a while, if you're not careful, you could start down the road to bitterness... or, at least get more than a bit pissed off.
Then, I look at the fact that this baby had only one year.
Back in college, in the 1980's my favorite comic was a book called Strikeforce; Morituri. The tagline was 'The ultimate power. The ultimate honor. The ultimate sacrifice.' Set in the mid-21st Century, the comic focused on a process to give people superpowers to help fight off an alien invasion of Earth - but with three provisions:
1.) Only a very select few are eligible biologically for the process.
2.) There's no telling what powers will be created by the process.
3.) Within one year of being subjected to the process - you will die.
The premise could be encapsulated in a single phrase: 'If you knew that you were going to die sometime in the next year, how would you live that year out?' Simply go about doing your job, like everyone expects? Act out in ways you'd never consider if you weren't in this position - and if so, they why didn't you do that before? Make every day could for something in a way that means something to you, and to the people around you - the people that matter to you most of all?
If I were to die Monday night - December 31 - I'd feel slightly ashamed. I did a couple of things this year that I can feel proud about, but for the most part, I spent it trying to balance myself on the event horizon of existance... like most of the people out there in the world today.
This baby, though... she spent a lifetime with eyes wide open, soaking in a world that she found larger than life, with every day a Ringquest, every room a New World, and every time her family took her somewhere in their car - it was a trip through the Delta Quadrant. I listened to her family talk about the kid. She gave them purpose, and love, and a new view on the world around them.
For one year, she gave them a reason to smile every morning.
Not a bad epitaph for a tiny little bundle like her. We should all be so lucky, someday.
http://www.week.com/news/local/12848712.html
Let's talk about what makes guys dumb. Momentarily, that is.
Okay.
Everyone will have their ideas, but I think I can narrow it down to one thing... and to put a very fine point on it, it's the percieved chance to have sex with a very attractive woman (or man, as the case could be). We will do the most outrageous things just for the chance that, after we do this, she'll somehow end up in our bed (or wherever else it may be, just as long as enough flesh is exposed for the sex to be, well, actual sex).
It's not like that even in the movies, folks. No less a distinguished personage than Ian McKellan himself, in his role in X2: X-Men United, spoke The Truth of the Ages when he told a pudgy guard (just as the poor sap's life-force was draining away) 'Never trust a beautiful woman - especially one who's interested in you.'
Guys - listen to the man! Remember last year on Heroes, when perky, wholesome and adorably cute Eden McCain just happened to be a friend to Mohinder Suresh's dad (COME ON! 'Papa Suresh?' Mohinder, your brains are in your ASS!) and just happened to be able to wind herself into Mohinder's affairs? For the love of GOD, already, did you NOT get the picture when she appeared upon your doorstep with those big eyes, that cheerful smile and that dish of baked macaroni and cheese? Dude, she's either trying to get into your pants or into your files, and judging that you (unlike every other actively heterosexual male on the planet would have if put in your position) did NOT try to tap that ass like the Republicans would like to tap ANWAR and that she didn't even ttempt to force the issue (until later), she's obviously a SPY of some sort!
Not to mention that you're not a world-class idiot for NOT jumping into bed with her. Important tip to remember, guys: if you ever find yourself in a feature film or television program and you're faced with the same 'dilemma' - sleep with her.Let her get freaky. Let her do anything she wants to you that she feels will loosen your tongue and get you to spill your secrets to her.
She's going to kill you later, anyway. At least this way, you don't die with an eternal boner and iridescent blue balls that can be seen from orbit - and on the off chance that she's actually a good guy, no harm, no foul.
Long story short, guys - hit it if you can get it. Regret bites, long, hard and deep.
I mean, COME ON! Look at her - anyone that cute in the face and just shows up on your doorstep with a delicious baked entree has GOT to be evil!
Like I said - dumb.
Back on point, though - this is something that women (and other guys) know that they can use to control you, to manipulate you, to play you like Marilyn Manson doing a one-night-only 'grudge-fuck' concert just outside St. Peter's Basilica.
Yes, and we fall for it so, so, so many times... and it very rarely pays off. Carrot and stick, the Lottery, hoping that hot chick will give it up.
It makes us momentarily dumb. We can still do our jobs, work the chores around the house, walk and talk and chew gum at the same time... but the chance of sex makes us dumb.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
Everyone will have their ideas, but I think I can narrow it down to one thing... and to put a very fine point on it, it's the percieved chance to have sex with a very attractive woman (or man, as the case could be). We will do the most outrageous things just for the chance that, after we do this, she'll somehow end up in our bed (or wherever else it may be, just as long as enough flesh is exposed for the sex to be, well, actual sex).
It's not like that even in the movies, folks. No less a distinguished personage than Ian McKellan himself, in his role in X2: X-Men United, spoke The Truth of the Ages when he told a pudgy guard (just as the poor sap's life-force was draining away) 'Never trust a beautiful woman - especially one who's interested in you.'
Guys - listen to the man! Remember last year on Heroes, when perky, wholesome and adorably cute Eden McCain just happened to be a friend to Mohinder Suresh's dad (COME ON! 'Papa Suresh?' Mohinder, your brains are in your ASS!) and just happened to be able to wind herself into Mohinder's affairs? For the love of GOD, already, did you NOT get the picture when she appeared upon your doorstep with those big eyes, that cheerful smile and that dish of baked macaroni and cheese? Dude, she's either trying to get into your pants or into your files, and judging that you (unlike every other actively heterosexual male on the planet would have if put in your position) did NOT try to tap that ass like the Republicans would like to tap ANWAR and that she didn't even ttempt to force the issue (until later), she's obviously a SPY of some sort!
Not to mention that you're not a world-class idiot for NOT jumping into bed with her. Important tip to remember, guys: if you ever find yourself in a feature film or television program and you're faced with the same 'dilemma' - sleep with her.Let her get freaky. Let her do anything she wants to you that she feels will loosen your tongue and get you to spill your secrets to her.
She's going to kill you later, anyway. At least this way, you don't die with an eternal boner and iridescent blue balls that can be seen from orbit - and on the off chance that she's actually a good guy, no harm, no foul.
Long story short, guys - hit it if you can get it. Regret bites, long, hard and deep.
I mean, COME ON! Look at her - anyone that cute in the face and just shows up on your doorstep with a delicious baked entree has GOT to be evil!
Like I said - dumb.
Back on point, though - this is something that women (and other guys) know that they can use to control you, to manipulate you, to play you like Marilyn Manson doing a one-night-only 'grudge-fuck' concert just outside St. Peter's Basilica.
Yes, and we fall for it so, so, so many times... and it very rarely pays off. Carrot and stick, the Lottery, hoping that hot chick will give it up.
It makes us momentarily dumb. We can still do our jobs, work the chores around the house, walk and talk and chew gum at the same time... but the chance of sex makes us dumb.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
Okay... let's talk about PORN!
In the interest of keeping my somewhat ample rump off the proverbial fire (to paraphrase the great Dom Deluise, roasting my butt would take a YEAR!), I pulled the shot of Carrie Jean Yazel off the blog. Someone considered it PORN!
Okay. Let's talk about Porn. Or Erotica.
Now, setting aside that lauded judge's opinion that he couldn't define porn, but he knew it when he saw it, I hestate to disagree, but I believe that one CAN differentiate between pornography and erotica. The former is the use of words and/or imagery for the singular and explicit purpose of eliciting a state of sexual arousal within the person perusing the material in question. Pornography seeks to bypass our higher selves and appeal - no, unleash our innate animal sexual nature; yes, Virginia - there is a animal looking back at you from that mirror every morning, and trust me when I agree with Eddie Murphy (from his 1987 concert film Raw) when he said that there isn't a single woman out there who wouldn't rather be off somewhere having really good sex (so to speak). There's a part of every single one of us that lurks just at the edge of our perpherial vision, just on the terminator between our logical selves and that blackness in Zone Four or our mentality (for those of you who know about the Johari Window... that's where the animal that wants to mate (and continuously, given the chance) waits. It's that part of us that watches the way that young woman with the 34C cup moves as she yawns and stretches herself in the office, or takes a second, hesitant look at the guy who wears those jeans so incredibly well... it's a part of us. Our animal nature, the part that education, religion (or spirituality, as some may refer to it), the education of our family, peers and community and yes, the fear of legal sanctions places under control.
That's what pornorgraphy, in my opinion, seeks to unleash. For a moment, I hasten to add... and really, is that such a bad thing? Is that momentary fantasy, that touch of objectification for a brief instant, is that really such a horrible thing? Why is it that we shouldn't look? Why is it that we shouldn't stop and say, 'I wonder what it would be like with that person?'
Now, don't get me wrong - if you have a specific reasoning or belief system, then by all means, don't look. I understand that, and I accept that.
But that doesn't mean that you have the right to tell other people that they can't look, either. I remember something that I started saying back in the 1980's that applies here: 'My rights end at your nose - and vice-versa.'
I won't go off into the 'porn incites crime or the hideous sexual proclivities of some people' arguement here, either. I'm talking about the average, baseline-normal person here, the guy (or girl) that occasionally, with a mischievious little glint in his or her eye, lets that finger stray across the remote control and somehow (Oh, my! How did that get onto theTV?), they're watching The Best Sex Ever or Women: Stories of Passion.
Just for a moment. Okay... to see just how well Dru Berrymore or Kira Reed can fabricate what they believe the viewers will consider an orgasm to be.
Then, we'll turn the channel back to that repeat of The O'Reilly Factor or Power Rangers: Dino Thunder.
That's what Porn is for.
Then, there's Erotica. By my understanding (of course, your opinion may vary), Erotica is the undertaking of creating and presenting materials of higher quality and artistic merit which also (and unapologetically so) seek to showcase the human form and condition of human sexuality NOT to specifically arouse sexual desire, but to present a portrait of that desire for the viewers of said material. Let's be candid here, folks - in the 19th Century (or was it the 18th?), in England, the custom was to cover the legs of tables within one's house, under the assumption that seeing the bare legs of said taable would incite sexual arousal in persons viewing it.
Well. Maybe it's just me, but if simply seeing a barren table leg would make me want to have sex, trust me when I say that ANYTHING I see would make me want to have sex. Remember that hilarious episode of Night Court where John Larouquette's character had to abstain from sex for two weeks - and then, found out that there was a lab mistake which meant that he didn't need to do so? I believe Judge Harry said it best: "Better safe than sorry, guys!"
Maybe it's just me - but we're putting far too much thought into this whole thing. If you like that stuff, fine. You'll find it, one way or another, and as long as you keep it to yourself, don't expose it to the kids and don't get crazed about it all - have fun. If you don't like that stuff - don't have it in your home, don't support the establishments WHICH YOU AND YOUR FAMILY ACTUALLY SUPPORT WITH YOUR BUYING DOLLARS that carry it, and have logical, sound arguements that you can bring forth against it when doing so - because win or lose, people will respect you and your position if you can argue it in a calm, reasoned, sensible manner. In our culture, those are the people who get listened to, rather than the ones who rant from a kneejerk position, spout dogma and propaganda at the top of their voices that they can't support with reasoned discussion, and basically carry the standard of 'If you don't believe as we do, you're WRONG!'.
Well, that's my baby rant for the day. Do whatever makes you happy - and just remember to allow the guy or girl next to you to have that same priviledge.
End of line.
Okay. Let's talk about Porn. Or Erotica.
Now, setting aside that lauded judge's opinion that he couldn't define porn, but he knew it when he saw it, I hestate to disagree, but I believe that one CAN differentiate between pornography and erotica. The former is the use of words and/or imagery for the singular and explicit purpose of eliciting a state of sexual arousal within the person perusing the material in question. Pornography seeks to bypass our higher selves and appeal - no, unleash our innate animal sexual nature; yes, Virginia - there is a animal looking back at you from that mirror every morning, and trust me when I agree with Eddie Murphy (from his 1987 concert film Raw) when he said that there isn't a single woman out there who wouldn't rather be off somewhere having really good sex (so to speak). There's a part of every single one of us that lurks just at the edge of our perpherial vision, just on the terminator between our logical selves and that blackness in Zone Four or our mentality (for those of you who know about the Johari Window... that's where the animal that wants to mate (and continuously, given the chance) waits. It's that part of us that watches the way that young woman with the 34C cup moves as she yawns and stretches herself in the office, or takes a second, hesitant look at the guy who wears those jeans so incredibly well... it's a part of us. Our animal nature, the part that education, religion (or spirituality, as some may refer to it), the education of our family, peers and community and yes, the fear of legal sanctions places under control.
That's what pornorgraphy, in my opinion, seeks to unleash. For a moment, I hasten to add... and really, is that such a bad thing? Is that momentary fantasy, that touch of objectification for a brief instant, is that really such a horrible thing? Why is it that we shouldn't look? Why is it that we shouldn't stop and say, 'I wonder what it would be like with that person?'
Now, don't get me wrong - if you have a specific reasoning or belief system, then by all means, don't look. I understand that, and I accept that.
But that doesn't mean that you have the right to tell other people that they can't look, either. I remember something that I started saying back in the 1980's that applies here: 'My rights end at your nose - and vice-versa.'
I won't go off into the 'porn incites crime or the hideous sexual proclivities of some people' arguement here, either. I'm talking about the average, baseline-normal person here, the guy (or girl) that occasionally, with a mischievious little glint in his or her eye, lets that finger stray across the remote control and somehow (Oh, my! How did that get onto theTV?), they're watching The Best Sex Ever or Women: Stories of Passion.
Just for a moment. Okay... to see just how well Dru Berrymore or Kira Reed can fabricate what they believe the viewers will consider an orgasm to be.
Then, we'll turn the channel back to that repeat of The O'Reilly Factor or Power Rangers: Dino Thunder.
That's what Porn is for.
Then, there's Erotica. By my understanding (of course, your opinion may vary), Erotica is the undertaking of creating and presenting materials of higher quality and artistic merit which also (and unapologetically so) seek to showcase the human form and condition of human sexuality NOT to specifically arouse sexual desire, but to present a portrait of that desire for the viewers of said material. Let's be candid here, folks - in the 19th Century (or was it the 18th?), in England, the custom was to cover the legs of tables within one's house, under the assumption that seeing the bare legs of said taable would incite sexual arousal in persons viewing it.
Well. Maybe it's just me, but if simply seeing a barren table leg would make me want to have sex, trust me when I say that ANYTHING I see would make me want to have sex. Remember that hilarious episode of Night Court where John Larouquette's character had to abstain from sex for two weeks - and then, found out that there was a lab mistake which meant that he didn't need to do so? I believe Judge Harry said it best: "Better safe than sorry, guys!"
Maybe it's just me - but we're putting far too much thought into this whole thing. If you like that stuff, fine. You'll find it, one way or another, and as long as you keep it to yourself, don't expose it to the kids and don't get crazed about it all - have fun. If you don't like that stuff - don't have it in your home, don't support the establishments WHICH YOU AND YOUR FAMILY ACTUALLY SUPPORT WITH YOUR BUYING DOLLARS that carry it, and have logical, sound arguements that you can bring forth against it when doing so - because win or lose, people will respect you and your position if you can argue it in a calm, reasoned, sensible manner. In our culture, those are the people who get listened to, rather than the ones who rant from a kneejerk position, spout dogma and propaganda at the top of their voices that they can't support with reasoned discussion, and basically carry the standard of 'If you don't believe as we do, you're WRONG!'.
Well, that's my baby rant for the day. Do whatever makes you happy - and just remember to allow the guy or girl next to you to have that same priviledge.
End of line.
Bloggers should be bitch-slapped...
... especially if they're the type that are just oh, so bad-assed, so ready to toss off derisive, mean-spirited comments and talk mondo major BS when they're on-line... but you KNOW that, in real-life, they're quixotic cogs in the machine who wish that they were a fraction as hard-edged and dynamic as they are online.
Look, there's snark, and there's being a dick. If you want to be a dick, nobody's going to stop you... but pray that the people you dog out never meet you in real life. I still remember this bitch from my college years, who (just to be a bitch) got my funding for a film pulled THE NIGHT THEY CUT THE CHECK... just for the fun of it. Just to be a bitch.
The last time I saw her was May of 1987, and I told her bluntly, 'Don't ever forget me - because I won't ever forget you.' I haven't forgotten you either, L.B. Not at all... and I believe in honoring my promises. It's a moral imperative.
Just saying, folks - if you want to be a weapons-grade btich or a rampaging ass online because that's the way you Walter Mitty yourself through life, well, blowback's a bitch.
Man, now I want a turkey leftover sandwich with cheese, salad dressing, a big leaf of lettuce and just a bit of dressing inside - just enough to flavor the sandwich, but not enough to count as an actual labor. Thing is, I didn't bake a turkey for Christmas, so no leftovers.
I'm here to tell you, folks - this side of the aspiring writer/starving artist/shiftless bum gig sucks. I really need to con somebody into baking a turkey breast for me, and making a bowl of dressing, too, along with some gravy and maybe some corn and some dinner rolls with dabs of butter smeared on the top before they go into the oven, so the flavor bakes in...
2007. For the most part, this year sucked. At least I get to watch some jerks get bitch-slapped for being jerks on some of the boards I check out.
Look, there's snark, and there's being a dick. If you want to be a dick, nobody's going to stop you... but pray that the people you dog out never meet you in real life. I still remember this bitch from my college years, who (just to be a bitch) got my funding for a film pulled THE NIGHT THEY CUT THE CHECK... just for the fun of it. Just to be a bitch.
The last time I saw her was May of 1987, and I told her bluntly, 'Don't ever forget me - because I won't ever forget you.' I haven't forgotten you either, L.B. Not at all... and I believe in honoring my promises. It's a moral imperative.
Just saying, folks - if you want to be a weapons-grade btich or a rampaging ass online because that's the way you Walter Mitty yourself through life, well, blowback's a bitch.
Man, now I want a turkey leftover sandwich with cheese, salad dressing, a big leaf of lettuce and just a bit of dressing inside - just enough to flavor the sandwich, but not enough to count as an actual labor. Thing is, I didn't bake a turkey for Christmas, so no leftovers.
I'm here to tell you, folks - this side of the aspiring writer/starving artist/shiftless bum gig sucks. I really need to con somebody into baking a turkey breast for me, and making a bowl of dressing, too, along with some gravy and maybe some corn and some dinner rolls with dabs of butter smeared on the top before they go into the oven, so the flavor bakes in...
2007. For the most part, this year sucked. At least I get to watch some jerks get bitch-slapped for being jerks on some of the boards I check out.
Biscuits and Gravy...
Ah... biscuits and gravy. A wonderfully fond memory from my time at SIU-Carbondale (a moment of silence for Hot Stacks, a wonderful little diner on The Strip in Carbondale.)I'm a fan of the show Daria (formerly broadcast on MTV), and as such, I'm active in the Daria fandom. Anyway, one of the fans from Argentina had mentioned that she'd never heard of 'biscuits and gravy', and wondered whysomeone would want to do that (put gravy on biscuits) let alone eat it from breakfast.
The wonders of language. What I meant by 'biscuits', she undestood as 'cookies'. Anyway, I hijacked the Wikipedia entry for biscuits and gravy (along with this gret photo of the dish in question) and posted it over on the Paperpusher's Message Board (or PPMB), the main Daria fandom site. That started upa little thread about breakfast foods...
Yeah, boring... but very tasty.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Edwards, or the Republicans get the White House again...
Personally, I believe that the Republicans are going to win the White house again in 2008. Why?
Two reasons:
(1.) The Republicans may not know how to govern, but they sure as hell know how to win. How's that? Do whatever the eff it takes to get the voters out and either voting for who you want, for whomever you want to run against (for whatever reason) or for the people you know don't have a snowball's chance of bearing you.
(2.) Because the individual Democrats all want to lead the party and be the big hero (they'll never say it that way) instead of joining together to pick a solid player who can win, regardless of how much the others (regardless of who he - or she- is) want to be the person out in front.
Let's be honest - if the Democrats don't run Edwards as their front man, they're vapor come Election Day.
Hillary cannot win. Let's face this as a fact, people. She may win the nomination, but there's no way in hell that the American people will vote for her. They'll vote for a woman President - oh, of that I have no doubt, and I believe I'll be alive to see it - but they won't vote for Hillary Clinton to be that woman. People have long memories, and they vote their pocketbooks... not to mention 'they vote for payback'.
Obama cannot win. It's not that he's Black - I firmly believe that had Colin Powell chosen to run back in 1996, he'd have dusted Clinton - it's just that he's Black and not a Republican hardass. People saw Powell and saw a guy who'd kick some ass, have a drink, clean his weapon and then take his wife to bed. Obama... well, he's a touch softer, and having all of the college kids and Oprah cheering him on doesn't help at all, either. Can you say 'splitting the vote', people? Also, they're all there now, but college kids are notorious for NOT VOTING, and as for African-American voters... as a former election judge for a city in Illinois, let's just say that the voting record of Blacks does not impress me. That's a shame, because I remember the 1997 city election in Peoria, Illinois. Only 11% of the registered voters bothered to show up at the polling place (doesn't that sound like a kinky name for a brothel, or a fraternity house?) on Election Day; if the Black populace had gotten mobilized and out to the polls with serious numbers, they could have controlled everything... as Michael Ironside said in Starship Troopers, when you vote, you are exercising political power. You are using force - and political force is the coin of the realm in modern America.
Back on the subject. Don't be fooled by the throngs of college kids or the tens of thousands at Oprah rallies... they'll dissapear on Election Day...
...which is why, if we don't get the time-tested, battle-hardened and 'Hey - you know, in that 2004 Vice-Presidential debate, didn't he actually LOOK Presidential?' Edwards as the front man on the Democratic ticket, then we'll see Shrubya pass the car and housekeys to whatever Republican comes in on his coattails.
Whomever it may be. I really don't think that matters.
Two reasons:
(1.) The Republicans may not know how to govern, but they sure as hell know how to win. How's that? Do whatever the eff it takes to get the voters out and either voting for who you want, for whomever you want to run against (for whatever reason) or for the people you know don't have a snowball's chance of bearing you.
(2.) Because the individual Democrats all want to lead the party and be the big hero (they'll never say it that way) instead of joining together to pick a solid player who can win, regardless of how much the others (regardless of who he - or she- is) want to be the person out in front.
Let's be honest - if the Democrats don't run Edwards as their front man, they're vapor come Election Day.
Hillary cannot win. Let's face this as a fact, people. She may win the nomination, but there's no way in hell that the American people will vote for her. They'll vote for a woman President - oh, of that I have no doubt, and I believe I'll be alive to see it - but they won't vote for Hillary Clinton to be that woman. People have long memories, and they vote their pocketbooks... not to mention 'they vote for payback'.
Obama cannot win. It's not that he's Black - I firmly believe that had Colin Powell chosen to run back in 1996, he'd have dusted Clinton - it's just that he's Black and not a Republican hardass. People saw Powell and saw a guy who'd kick some ass, have a drink, clean his weapon and then take his wife to bed. Obama... well, he's a touch softer, and having all of the college kids and Oprah cheering him on doesn't help at all, either. Can you say 'splitting the vote', people? Also, they're all there now, but college kids are notorious for NOT VOTING, and as for African-American voters... as a former election judge for a city in Illinois, let's just say that the voting record of Blacks does not impress me. That's a shame, because I remember the 1997 city election in Peoria, Illinois. Only 11% of the registered voters bothered to show up at the polling place (doesn't that sound like a kinky name for a brothel, or a fraternity house?) on Election Day; if the Black populace had gotten mobilized and out to the polls with serious numbers, they could have controlled everything... as Michael Ironside said in Starship Troopers, when you vote, you are exercising political power. You are using force - and political force is the coin of the realm in modern America.
Back on the subject. Don't be fooled by the throngs of college kids or the tens of thousands at Oprah rallies... they'll dissapear on Election Day...
...which is why, if we don't get the time-tested, battle-hardened and 'Hey - you know, in that 2004 Vice-Presidential debate, didn't he actually LOOK Presidential?' Edwards as the front man on the Democratic ticket, then we'll see Shrubya pass the car and housekeys to whatever Republican comes in on his coattails.
Whomever it may be. I really don't think that matters.
Yes, I am a Daria fan!
It's been five years, and TPTB still haven't committed to a full release of all five seasons of Daria - easily one of the best things MTV has EVER done - to DVD.
No, they'd rather let the world see the idiots 'start being real...'
Note to self: There's several reasons why MTV seems as idiotic as a fart-lighting contest aboard a Soyuz capsule during re-entry. Not getting their heads out of their butts and getting Daria on the shelves is one of them. (Yes, there may be music issues... clear them up already! I guess we can give them some leeway, though - look how long it took to get Heavy Metal into the stores...)
A photo of Noa Tishby- because it's the right thing to do...
Noa Tishby. You probably haven't seen her in much. The first time I saw her was in an episode of Charmed. Damn. Evil usually doesn't EVER look that good...
Why CAN'T we just bitch-slap them...?
I can't sleep, so, I'm up at 5:00 and there's nothing really on right now (besides, it feels like I might drop off soon) so I put The Daily Buzz on.
Okay. Been watching it from the beginning.
Andrea Jackson. Fun, easy on the eyes, actually sounds like she has a clue as to what she's talking about and has a decent little airframe. (Note to Ms. Jackson - whoever told you to go out and get the gray sweater dress... give that person a raise.) Makes watching the show worthwhile.
Kia Malone. Ease up a touch on the flava, and the same as above applies. Love to see her do some location segments, where she'd get to wear some really interesting outfits.
Andy Campbell. When he grows up and gets out of that 'I'm the new kid' appearance he seems to have hard-bolted onto himself, he'll be a newsman. Stop trying so hard to be funny - you're funniest when you just state the obvious and hit with that 'Do you believe folks are this effing dumb?' look...
And then... there's Mitch English.
You know, there's some people that you really want to like... until they open their mouths on serious subjects? That's Mitch. Love Mitch's World, he's not bad with the weather - but when the 'happy talk' starts up and they banter about, sooner or later Mitch starts to open his mouth, I reach for my mute button and wish to God above that the sadists in Master Control would tell the cameraman on Andrea to pull the camera on her back just about three inches... my apologies, Miss Jackson. The Y Chromosome makes me a fool on occasion.
Back to Mitch. When he's not being serious, I can watch. Let personal opinions on serious matters arise, and I think to myself, why can't I just bitch-slap him? Then it would be a wonderful world...
Meanwhile, I'll dream of the day when someone at TDB loses his or her mind completely and manages to talk them into doing a video tribute to the film Undercover Brother by having Andrea and Kia doing a recreation of the Denuse Richards/Aunjanue Ellis catfight from the film.
Sigh. Oh, well. That's what dreams are for.
At least it stops me from thinking about Mitch being serious.
Okay. Been watching it from the beginning.
Andrea Jackson. Fun, easy on the eyes, actually sounds like she has a clue as to what she's talking about and has a decent little airframe. (Note to Ms. Jackson - whoever told you to go out and get the gray sweater dress... give that person a raise.) Makes watching the show worthwhile.
Kia Malone. Ease up a touch on the flava, and the same as above applies. Love to see her do some location segments, where she'd get to wear some really interesting outfits.
Andy Campbell. When he grows up and gets out of that 'I'm the new kid' appearance he seems to have hard-bolted onto himself, he'll be a newsman. Stop trying so hard to be funny - you're funniest when you just state the obvious and hit with that 'Do you believe folks are this effing dumb?' look...
And then... there's Mitch English.
You know, there's some people that you really want to like... until they open their mouths on serious subjects? That's Mitch. Love Mitch's World, he's not bad with the weather - but when the 'happy talk' starts up and they banter about, sooner or later Mitch starts to open his mouth, I reach for my mute button and wish to God above that the sadists in Master Control would tell the cameraman on Andrea to pull the camera on her back just about three inches... my apologies, Miss Jackson. The Y Chromosome makes me a fool on occasion.
Back to Mitch. When he's not being serious, I can watch. Let personal opinions on serious matters arise, and I think to myself, why can't I just bitch-slap him? Then it would be a wonderful world...
Meanwhile, I'll dream of the day when someone at TDB loses his or her mind completely and manages to talk them into doing a video tribute to the film Undercover Brother by having Andrea and Kia doing a recreation of the Denuse Richards/Aunjanue Ellis catfight from the film.
Sigh. Oh, well. That's what dreams are for.
At least it stops me from thinking about Mitch being serious.
Box this, bitch...
To quote Ambassador Kosh from the late, great science fiction program Babylon 5 - 'And so, it begins...'
This is the first post of my new blog. Why am I doing it? Because all of these other people are, so hell - looks like it might be a cool dive off that cliff after all of the other lemmings... and all I ask is that I don't go face-first into another lemming's a-hole like one of those Tomahawk missiles through an Iraqi general's kitchen window, or that when I hit the bottom, the last thing I experience WON'T be some other dumb-ass lemming giving me a long, hard slab of dumb-ass lemming dick through the rear egress portal as my reward for being dumb enough for jumping off in the first place.
I'll be bitching about things that catch my attention, and every now and then, asking why some things just aren't better- or worse - for people who actually deserve them. I'll let you know how I feel about this and that. Why? Because it's just a relief to get the crap off my chest and out of my head.
Let the molasses-in-Ontario-in January-slow downward spiral towards the event horizon begin.
This is the first post of my new blog. Why am I doing it? Because all of these other people are, so hell - looks like it might be a cool dive off that cliff after all of the other lemmings... and all I ask is that I don't go face-first into another lemming's a-hole like one of those Tomahawk missiles through an Iraqi general's kitchen window, or that when I hit the bottom, the last thing I experience WON'T be some other dumb-ass lemming giving me a long, hard slab of dumb-ass lemming dick through the rear egress portal as my reward for being dumb enough for jumping off in the first place.
I'll be bitching about things that catch my attention, and every now and then, asking why some things just aren't better- or worse - for people who actually deserve them. I'll let you know how I feel about this and that. Why? Because it's just a relief to get the crap off my chest and out of my head.
Let the molasses-in-Ontario-in January-slow downward spiral towards the event horizon begin.
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