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Tuesday, October 05, 2004
BLASPHEMIN'
We all know that the Christian Right has done an absurdly bang-up job of getting the word out about how all them Northern Liberal Intellectual types are looking to kill everyone's babies, outlaw Jesus and fuck you in the ass. Yeah, dude, whatever. Only on weekends. The rest of the time, we neo-zionist cabals are merely plotting to corner the world banks and ratchet up the gold standard until all anyone can afford is tofu salads and arugula friggin' soy shakes. After that, it's a short step to government-mandated cross-dressing, race mixing, bestiality and armageddon. Sorry to come clean like that. I could never keep a secret.  So it's curious that that same incredibly vocal and effective lobby has said absolutely nothing about the hurricanes that have ravaged Florida this year. If those storms had hit San Francisco, Pat Robertson would be jerking off under his desk with glee rattling his blessed denture-polished piehole off on every mainstream outlet he could buy or blow his way onto to talk about how the Lord's mighty wrath against the sodomites had been brought to effect, and it was Good.But what about the proportionately God-fearing and perfectly nice people of Florida? (Laugh it up at your peril; we're all God's children, and you'd be a fool and a fascist to think otherwise.) What hath that same God wrought against them? And where's the high and proper moral outrage among the Lord's self-appointed bouffanted spokespeople about this one? Did the Floridians commit some sin that warranted their summary wiping-out by the four metaphorical horsemen? Frankly, I'd take this as a warning, Florida. Your task is to do better by the Lord this year, or else -- Well, I don't know what else that poor state would have to endure that they haven't already. Locusts? No, they got tons of those. Plagues? Ditto. Sheeut, I'm at a loss. Look. I feel for you guys down there. Stay strong, Florida. And have you considered eating babies and sodomizing each other? Because that sure seems to be keeping the hurricanes away from North Gomorrah, California, just fine.
Monday, October 04, 2004
MOTOR PSYCHO
Normally I love summer best of all. The toxic shit just floating in midair waiting to stick to your face, the laminated feeling you get after three and a half minutes of not showering, hundred and thirty in the shade arms-away-from-your-body hot, that sweet bouquet of piss, vomit and car exhaust that fills the air like a prom night debutante's slovenly didn't-sleep-at-home-last-night great-aunt just got in the elevator with you, man, Johnny Mathis got it backwards. The middle of summer is the most wonderful time of the year. That said, the summer of aught four has had about as much creativity as your average episode of Hope & Faith. I don't know if it was the big push to get some songs done that wore me down, or that the pit of loneliness that runs so deep it connects me directly with the twenty-seventh circle of hell is giving me a case of heartburn no Tums could fix, or what, but I've never been so glad to get on with things in October like I am right this moment. So to that end, here's Motor Psycho, a song about -- well, it's basically Born To Run as sung by Travis Bickle. It's just a little something to warm your cockles on these cool autumn nights. Rock over London, rock down Chicago. Tums. For the tummy.
Friday, October 01, 2004
BUSH/CHENEY '04: NEVER FORGET POLAND!
The State of Florida has released a sample election ballot. And after last night's debate, someone's already snapped this up. If the consequences of what's going down weren't so dire, I'd laugh my little ass off. UPDATE/PUNCHLINE: Now it seems Poland is forgetting the USA.
Wednesday, September 29, 2004
HIGH CONCEPT
or, BARFLY: THE ANIMATED SERIES, featuring the voices of JOEY LAWRENCE AND MARTIN SHORT! IT'S GOLD, PURE GOLD, I TELL YOU! Says here that both Melissa Etheridge and The Barenaked Ladies are getting their own comedy series next year. Etheridge is going to play a lesbian mom trying to raise a friend's child with her best bud, a straight guy. Unless each episode ends with her singing a song, I can't see this one taking off. (Unless (unless!) she can really act, and maybe not even then.) The Barenaked Ladies, on the other hand, are going to be hosting some kind of cross-format thing. This one could last, if people will accept what TV Guide will be calling "The Return Of The Golden Age Of The Variety Show." I go back with them a little, but I don't think that changes my opinion here. They're a versatile, accessible, fun bunch of dorks who won't feel the need to upstage whoever they're on with. Everyone in the band has a slightly different personality, and if it's winds up being some cross between The Carol Burnett Show and Hee Haw, then it's got a chance. Normally, I'd be way bitter about these people succeeding, but frankly, I don't know when I'd shoehorn the time in to shoot one of these damned shows. And besides, I don't think America is quite ready for a breezy yukfest about a Canadian-American writer who spends most of his waking hours drowning his sorrows in shallow martini glasses (until the paycheck dries up, and then it's PBRs the rest of the week -- I can change brands, as product placement in my very public personal life is everything; shit, I'd even drink Michelob if the price is right*), who diverts himself from his moribund existence (there's occasional outspurtings of ecstasy, sure, but let's call this misery in the air here) by sharing bon mots with his just-barely-more-gruntled would-be Pulitzer laureate friends at either punk rock karaoke or trivia nights, or barring that at various watering holes in or around Lower Manhattan and inner Brooklyn or Queens, waiting in vain for his muse, an abusive apparition (who, if we were casting, would be played by, oh, Julia Duffy** or someone equally condescendingly hot), to return for long enough to get some random piece of work finished. Actually, there's an idea there. I wish 'em both luck. If you need me, I'm listed. *Oh, relax. I wouldn't drink that piss at gunpoint. **That link to vidiot.com is not affiliated with this Vidiot.
Monday, September 27, 2004
HEH HEH. I LIKE A GIRL WITH SPIRIT.
Last week I worked quite a bit of overtime, which was kind of a drag as I'd gotten used to a relatively bucolic schedule of wander-into-work-when-I-bloody-well-feel-like-it and wander out the first time everyone who might miss me (because, see, the real reason I go to work is because everyone misses me!) turns their heads away at the same moment. But last week was crazy, actually really morning-to-night crazy, which was a little extra unfortunate because last week was also the fourth anniversary of my starting this blog. (I'm sorry, I'm late, baby. I got you a little something nice, but it's back at the homestead.) Actually, I can do better than that, if I get me some help. Here's some from The Movie Rapist Dialog Generator. It's actually rather cute and low-key, given the subject matter. Think of Billy Zane in (-- hell, in anything) saying this stuff.
Thursday, September 16, 2004
ATTENTION REMIXERS!
If you haven't seen Outfoxed: Rupert Murdoch's War on Journalism yet, and you've stopped on Fox News this year to do anything other than gawk at their gall, you might want to give it a watch. Jim Gilliam has conducted a serious amount of research, and created a fairly airtight (and pretty entertaining) thesis about how and why American cable news got ugly over the last 20 years. And now, Jim is giving away the full recordings of all the interviews he conducted, for your listening and remixing pleasure. Listening to these interviews scares me as much as anything. It shows how inadequate our checks and balances are in the media these days, how an awful lot of people seem neither a clue about, nor desire to hew to, the standards of journalism, and where that steep decline began. The first step to changing the tone of what we see and hear, and what's being reported or ignored, is to spread the word. So go forth and multiply the message, brothers and sisters, and send me your best stuff. I'll have the opportunity to play it at some very influential parties over the next few weeks. (Speaking of which: I'm playing a show tonight. Come on down.) [via Devoter]
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