Anyone that is familiar with Me knows of my distaste for the current Administration. I have attempted time & time again, to further point out the criminal Failings of the political leadership, Failings of catastrophic proportionality & relationship…Decisions I couldn’t, on my best day, understand…Decisions that were somehow affirmed in 2004, by a blind & befuddled AmericanElectorate, in re-electing a regime of Crooks & Simpletons. The litany of Failings, at this point, 7.7years deep inside an 8year Rape* of the CommonMan, would make any fair-minded person shudder.
But despite all of the carnage, flotsam, jetsam & desolation created by the worst President & Congress in the history of this Country, I don’t think Anyone, except maybe a handful of forethinking Economists or MoneyManagers, could have contemplated GeorgieTheDope, Vader & their Footsoldiers accomplishing this, the fiscal Evisceration of the Worlds most elite financial instruments…The “Lifeblood” of our Economy, TheDope & his provocatively simple policies have blown the golden dome’s off every major Financial Institution…shocking.
I can just hear it now from what is still left of the BushLoyal…They would desperately retort, “how can You blame Georgie? It was WallStreet greed & subprime lending this & that…the housing bubble yada yada…” Well I‘ll tell ya how I can blame Georgie: It is the accumulation of a Republican policy choice, it is the snowballing of a bedrock Republican principle, which is total unrestrictive deregulation of f*cking Everything including the most precious financial instruments on ThePlanet! It is Economic Policy of total disfunction & unsustainability concocted by, then implemented by TheDopeAdministration…It is a philosophy which basically states, “No need to intervene, it is Capitalism’s engine purring like a cat, Trust what the CEO’s say, they know best…Laws? Internal & external controls? Nawww, No need for law, controls, regulation, or oversight, WildWest anarchy creates parity”…Sure…
No FederalGovernment has spent more money in an 8year stretch, & guess what? TheDope lowered taxes for Everyone, & most severely for the Wealthy, at the same time He spent our money like a scorned Woman with her estranged Husband’s credit card gallivanting down 5thAvenue…A wanton Policy of spend-spend-spend-til’-yer-balls-turn-moneygreen philosophy, with a RubberstampCongress…Criminal, America, %100 criminal- minded…You BushFools need to wake the Hell up.
“Let the FreeMarkets work their Magic” or “TheMarkets don’t need to be watched, Supply & Demand guides HumanBehavior into correcting themselves…” or “TheMarkets know best…” are Mantra’s I have heard repeatedly like a Hitler propaganda slogan from every Sh*thead making mounds of money from the freewheeling & freedealing unregulated “Marketplace”.
Just entertain Me here BushVoters…sit back, fix a Martini, prop yer Heads back tilted toward the Sky, relax a bit, & now try to picture what Life we would be like for You if ‘WeThePeople’ had foolheartedly accepted GeorgieTheDope’s brilliant idea of PRIVATIZING SOCIAL SECURITY ! Just think if We had collectively said “Sure Georgie” & then went ahead & invested ALL OF OUR RETIREMENT MONEY IN THE MARKETPLACE ! HA ! No 1 is talking about that right now! Just another reality slapping You fools across yer botoxed faces!
(Put the anger in a bubble & blow it away…Ok…better)
The reason behind titling this piece “StrangeVictory.StrangeDefeat” is because in some guttural, instinctive sense, it seems appropriate & natural, this Meltdown has happened. And for a guy like myself, it is all straight Validation & Vindication, in vaguely esoteric ways, seeing this unfold saturates my Heart with satisfaction…A part of Me wants to say to all the BushVoters out there something a great friend of mine used to always sarcastically repeat the morning after We had all gone out & drank a ton on his open tab at the bar, he would look at Us with this hungover, apathetic expression on his face & say, “Hope it was fun. Hope it was fun... I sure hope it was fun…” And that is what I feel like saying to Anyone who voted for Georgie.Vader & Rove, “Hope it was fun, hope it was fun…Sure hope it was fun.”
So, it is a StrangeVictory for a number of reasons, but primarily a Victory because this last Deathblow is so undeniable, it is so unarguable, that even for the last BushLoyalists, it seems rather untenable for You to assert Bush did anything of Value for this Country, at this point.
However, it is also a StrangeDefeat, in the obvious ways, We are all hurting, No doubts about that, & I wish that were different, I wish the value of my House wasn’t smaller than the value of my Car…Before TheDope, I never thought 1Man, 1President & his minions could be capable of so much damage & disrepair, so much global devastation…My Naïveté has been checked & corrected, I can assure You of that. If I didn’t know then, I surely know now…1.20.2009.
* I 1st typed ‘sodomy’ in place of ‘Rape’, but replaced ‘sodomy’ with ‘Rape’ because ‘sodomy’, unfortunately, is understating things, it has been a violent controlling manipulative Rape of the LowerClasses, period, for nearly 8years.
]]>My joy is nearly inexpressible!
My wife just came home from work, bearing a package from Amazon for me: The 50th anniversary two-disk special edition of Forbidden Planet!
I'm heading for the television right now!
!!!
Not only do I watch a lot of television, I also spend a fair amount of time on-line talking about it. Maybe it's because I encounter so many more people at one time when I'm on-line than I do in real life, but I'm often surrounded by assholes. There are the regular crimes like name-calling, gasbagging and nitpicking, and then there are the two crimes that irritate me so much that I wish I were in charge of the inter-webs so I could ban the perpetrators asses forever.
This comment below (in bolded text), about Betty Draper, a character on Mad Men, is an extreme example of both crimes. (For the uninitiated, Mad Men is a show set in a Manhattan ad agency in the early '60s. Betty is married to Don Draper, the main character, and she is the women Betty Friedan wrote about in The Feminine Mystique.) Can you name the crimes?
"Like Betty, lots of women were depressed ...because they were stifled creatively and felt trapped by marriage and motherhood. They weren't necessarily "crazy." They were struggling with their identities and yes, self-medicating with booze."
"...but I do sympathize with her because being a suburban mom isn't easy nowadays...I can't imagine how stressful it was in the 1950s-1960s when you were expected to be perfect and have no life outside the confines of your home...and you had to be obedient to a selfish husband like Don."
"Interestingly, Betty Draper ...most certainly is suffering the malaise of the "modern" suburban housewife."
I'd like to argue this point, as my mother *was* one of those suburban housewives.
She wasn't depressed (my father was) she wasn't alcoholic (she would be after my father died, nearlt 40 years later) she *did* have to be obedient to my father, who was very often verbally abusive to all of us.
But when he was not there, she watched her soaps, fed her family, did the laundry, rushed just before my father got home to make it look as if she'd cleaned all day, visited with the neighbors - especially the elderly ones (and ran errands for them - on foot, as she didn't drive, but the grocery store was just down the street) as well as those her own age, and *spent time* (not just "quality time") with her children.
I knew my mother - her favorite color, movie, book (she read a lot too - her library card number was famous at our local branch) singer, actress, flowers, perfume, other things i can't recall right now, as well as her values and beliefs (and the way she protected me from my father, or at least comforted me after).
She was taught that the best thing you could do was to help other people. I admired her in that (if not in that if you were unhappy you should cure it by helping others). She was brought up by nuns after being removed by the state from a crazy mother in a large Catholic family that only grew larger before she got back. (after marriage, she was.. if not Protestant, at least in no way Catholic)
She was into walking and taking vitamins (none of which helped my asthma - though i learned to take lots of pills at once (pantothenic acid is something you *never* want to chew))
My father worked two jobs, so that she could stay home and take care of us. Which she did a very good job of (even if the cleaning was an afterthought (and her cooking wasn't that great - I gained a lot of weight after I left home - perhaps the girls on 90210 have my mother as a cook - i was 105 when I left).
The only thing she didn't teach us was that, for her daughter, the world would not be the same.
I don't think my mother was unhappy as a housewife. I don't remember her aspiring to be anything else (or anything). And I really think she was part of the glue that made good neighborhoods, well- behaved children (who weren't automatons, but were just polite, responsible citizens) and kept the elderly from having to go to nursing homes.
There may still be women like this. I just think my mother's priorities were pretty darn good.
When i was 19, she went back to work, and had no time for us (my brother was 13). I missed her.
When I was 22, the family moved to another state and I did not.
When my father was dying she quit to care for him and didn't go back(though she thought of it). she ran around with her friends for a while and then stopped, and then she watched a lot of tv and read a lot, she drank too much, so that when she started having health issues that affected her balance, we didn't notice, thinking she was drunk.
(at this point i must stop to gripe about Lexie Grey saying she's an ACOA, when her childhood was perfect. just because her father is a drunk *now*, that does *not* put her in that class. ACOA is more developmental, i think. a way to survive learned in childhood. my father was not an alcholic then either - he just blew up like one (something Thatcher and Susan never did - but I bet Ellis did.)
Back to my point - my mother would have said that life is what you make it - and she did good (unlike Betty) cared less for appearances than for good manners and politeness and giving to others, and she made the world a better place, both then, and in children who grew up resposible and not adding to the burdens of others in society (unlike siblings of friends who've done drugs, committed thefts, ended up in jail or unmarried with children they could not support).
Of course, when she chose not to have a funeral (both my parents chose this), all the people who admired her and loved her for all the good she did for them, were upset that they could not gather to praise her, and were angry at *me* but...
Perhaps Betty does feel unfulfilled, but I don't see any aspirations toward any kind of "work" or even "charity" or volunteerism in her (unlike my mother). She only cares about how she looks to others. And more and more, she really does seem a spoiled (or at least needy and damaged) child.
And, as "needy and damaged" goes, Meredith Grey (while perhaps whiny) is a far better (fictional) person than she is - at least *she* always gathers her friends in support of whichever friend needs it most, making a family out of those who are not her blood, while Betty couldn't be bothered with those who *are.* (at least not till they grow up to people who will "shame her" in front of her friends (and btw, where *are* those friends? her neighbors have husbands who cheat too. is she too "image" oriented to even gripe to them?))
Time's up. The crimes are 1) too much information; and 2) seeing everything through the prism of your own experience. They generally go hand in hand, although occasionally I see one without the other . It's possible to see everything through the prism of your own experience without the TMI, but it's impossible to have the TMI alone. The very nature of TMI means you see everything through The Prism.
I won't go so far as to say that personal experience should never influence your impressions. It's impossible to be completely objective all the time. But it is possible to interpret fiction subjectively if you accept that very few things are black and white. TMI and The Prism combine to create an even bigger crime - It's All About Me. IAAM with an emphasis on The Prism leads to people being sensitive to the tiniest perceived slight; as well, it's a symptom of severe myopia. "That can't be true because it didn't happen to me/we didn't do it that way in our family/my uncle was in the same situation and this is what happened to him." It's opinion as fact.
IAAM with an emphasis on TMI leads to "Oh my God, I don't want to know this about you." It's irrelevant to the discussion, and it's discussion as therapy. I mean, I know Road Runner is cheaper than counseling, but I wish people could keep at least a few things to themselves. In the worst case, the relevant discussion comes to a screeching halt, either because people don't know what to say (I can sometimes feel the discomfort), or because it results in endless expressions of sympathy. I know I'm being heartless, but please, what does this poster's asthma, or her fluctuations in weight because her mother didn't cook for her when she was 19 years old have to do with Betty Draper's slow, on-screen breakdown because her husband cheats on her and her entire life is a sham? How is this-
When I was 22, the family moved to another state and I did not.
related to anything having to do with Mad Men?
Great fiction always tells the truth, and great characters don't have to be nice people. Instead of watching this brilliant show and learning that truth comes in many forms, the only thing this poster learns from Mad Men is how much or how little it mirrors her own life. It's television viewing as narcissism.
I love the messages I get on here! Thanks guys. But my attention-span is finite and MySpace is really the best place to catch me and read me. Heck, I spewed up 9pages of triteness last night and then bothered to post it. You don't have to read that.
Here is a blog I put up on MySp on Monday. :D Pleased to enjoy. The most fun come from the comments. So, yeah, if you're interested, skip over there.
Have a great day!!!
September 15, 2008 - Monday
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Random, Useless Discourse 75:In defensive of hip-hop ‘cause it ain’t always about the club ....
Random, Useless Discourse 75:In defensive of hip-hop 'cause it ain't always about the club for me As inspired by the comments and msgs in response to my last post I came of age, not to the aggressive poetry of Joe Strummer nor the toked-insight of Garcia and not even to the sordid-wink of Buckingham, Mac, Nicks, and that other blonde chick. I grew up on MTV, and, for the purposes of this blog, the bounce of Ed Lover and Doctor Dre. "Yo MTV Raps" was a 2hr program that ran from 1988-1995. It brought Brooklyn, Chicago, and Compton, and every borough and hood in between, to the Main Streets and the cornfields of America's suburbs and small towns. It transformed views on fashion, pop-culture, and race. It more than blurred the lines between white and black music, it obliterated them, leaving behind a generation to grow-up with warm and fuzzies of Eazy-E and Slick Rick. The first cassette I ever bought was "License to Ill". Back then it wasn't about living, killing, wining, or grinding for the bill. It was about a fight for the right to be young and dance. Today we find ourselves eager to defenestrate the whole genre with disgust and remembrance of rhymes past. But sentimentality and nostalgia doesnt make a madeleine or a track fresher or better. It just makes it old, static, and staid.
As I matured, so did rap. It became angry in the early-90s and increasingly political. That was okay. NWA and Public Enemy gave voice to a reality that needed it. That deserved it. It was harsh and, unlike the bass-dropping, dance-hall rhyming that first got me hooked, I couldn't find a way to relate. In truth, it was my first bout of white-girl guilt and I found my way to Cobain and the rest of the Seattle disgruntles. Somewhere along the way rap, for all intents and purposes, became hip-hop and I fell back into it. It wasn't scary. It was packaged and pitched by the Herculean abs of Eric Nies and the edge of Puffy, Biggy, and Tupac. Late 90s hip-hop gave you that feeling you get when you watch a "Die Hard" or an episode of "24". That feeling that if it came down to it, you could pull a trigger and you could save the world. It lasted for two-hours or 4minutes, but you felt close to something akin to glass breaking, only, you never had to get cut. It was glossy. It was fish-bowl lens and Indian-influence. Hip-hop became the music of the world dominating not just air play and CD sales, but the very shoes, shirts, hats, pants, and underwear we wore. It's easy to dismiss what passes for hip-hop these days. It's easy to gleam the computer produced hooks and the bend-and-present sexism and come to the conclusion that the innovative legacy of Kurtis Blow and The Sugar Hill Gang and the social-awareness of Chuck D and Dr. Dre have been bartered away for truck-loads of Cristol and pants that don't seem to stay-up. And, while it's true that Screwtape and Wormwood have certainly sealed many a deal on those terms, not all is as sold-out as it seems. "Sweetest Girl (Dollar Bill)" was released last year by Wyclef Jean, featuring Akon, Niia, and Lil' Wayne. The song tells the story, doubtless a true one for many women, of strife and working for food, for progeny, and for survival. It's well-produced. It's club-ready. But once you start listening, let alone watch the video, you realize there's more to the song than sweaty come-ons. Lines like, "Closed legs don't get fed, go out there and make my bread" could mean one thing, but it actually means the other. Something tragic. Something bruising and heartbreaking that's wrapped in cotton-candy stripper-pole swirls and silky-swish. Sometimes a song about a stripper is just a song about a stripper, from the perspective of the cock. All for the erection. All for the pleasuring. But sometimes, it's also about the stripper. It's about the person who finds herself empowered or devalued to the point where all she has is her body. There's pride in the fight to be more. There's humanity in the struggle. Jack White said that you can't be a pimp and a prostitute too. We're all either the man or working for him. We've all sold some part of ourselves to keep the lights on. We're all hos sometimes. |
EditorsNote: In no particular Order…
► ILikeKillingFlies.MattMahurin.2004
► TheGarbageWarrior.OliverHodge.2008
► BuyTheTicket,TakeTheRide.TomThurman.2007
► BrokenFlowers.JimJarmusch.2005
► RomanPolanski:Wanted&Desired.MarinaZenovich.2008
]]>
I'm calling this a lazyblog - a lazy liveblog - because I'll probably only update it once.
Well, it's currently 10:03 Eastern time. I tuned in about 40 minutes into the VMAs.
Oh lord. Here are my observations.
- Venue appears to be dramatically smaller than in recent years.
- Russell Brand is funny, but is totally going over everyone's head. Is a British accent really that hard for most Americans to understand?
- The graphics are strange, but I guess I should be glad that they're not using that camera technique where they remove a frame every so often (they did this a few years ago, and it annoyed the crap outta me.)
- Miley Cyrus really shouldn't be touching "Living on a Prayer." Seriously. Step away from the Bon Jovi, darling.
- Pink = BAMF. It must be so much fun to play on a movie set!
- Yeah, I'm not sure I can take this anymore. I think doing LSAT logic games is more appealing. Seriously.
Edit: Okay, so after watching the whole thing, I realized that Russell Brand didn't just make one Jonas Brothers joke - which would have been acceptable - he made at least three. The whole effect was a little "Oprah...Uma..."
VMAs this year = POS.
At this rate, in 2020, the VMAs will probably be at a dollar theater somewhere.
kind of sucks. Maybe because I'm not 9 anymore, when I started watching the original in '93 (when my mom would let me, though she gave up banning me from it when I was 10 or 11), so instead of being ~fascinated~ by the drama, I got bored after two minutes and found it laughable. And I really can't believe that Shannen Doherty didn't come back to the original but came back for this shitfest. And what fun is it to see Kelly Taylor all normal and grown-up? She needs to be coked up, in a cult, or incredibly self-centered ("I CHOOSE ME!") to be interesting.
ThePraise continues. TheCapitulation continues. TheReshaping, TheReframing, TheRedefining continues. TheMovement gathers, TheSpeeches rally, TheRally excites, TheTentacles spread, TheClans unite, TheIdeas sharpen, TheDetails revealed, TheExpectations exceeded, TheMan impresses, TheMan shows out…everyday.
I am not, by genetic disposition, 1 to gleefully hop on TheBandwagon…Of anything…Large or small…Significant or trivial…Generally speaking, I don’t go pursuing opportunities to be apart of any Group organized or not, I am most definitely not 1 of these smiling starryeyed types, looking around goofy at all my likeminded pals with an affirmative thumbs up, ready to help out. It’s actually the diametric opposite. I enjoy, prefer, am most comfortable, am infused with the most satisfaction & am most proud out far on an Island, beyond the islands, alone & free to roam, with TheBuffalo…Physically, metaphysically, in the tangible or the abstract, not being part of TheGroup is what I do best, I optimize my potential in most areas as a LoneRanger, I feel Complete accepting all the Risk & all the Bounty, I try to own singularly my own choices & behavior, feeling only vibrations of Cowardice when buffered by the warm blanket of “Numbers”, of “GroupThink”, I try to never fall victim to the false Rationale of believing myself Right because Everyone else thinks the same…Of the many Lessons I have come to learn of TheWorld over the last bewildering 8years, is the notion that an entire diverse Population of People can be duped fairly easily by a chosen few, & that includes TheMedia, which are a large Group of Humans paid a lot of money to investigate, pry, check, verify, to question Everything, & even those Bloodhounds were made to look foolish, caught red-lipped, drinking TheKoolaid…So, the diligent aspiration & pursuit of remaining a SoleOperator is paramount…
But despite all these Ruminations about myself & my genetic dispositions, I am grateful & proud to be apart of the BarackObama SuperTon FreightTrain, the ObamaPartyBus…That is the degree to which I believe in this Dude. I am willing to roll up my sleeves & join TheGroup, the enormous Movement that is BarackObama… Happy to be 1 in a List of 10’s of Millions…Oprah, a sworn Enemy, welcome, it’s a big TentParty…SherylCrow, SusanSarandon, JohnKerry, (people that under any other circumstances make my skin crawl)…ah, Hey, party over this way!
I feel it important to articulate a Point…If there is Anyone out there actually believing these foolishly unreliable SnapshotPolls reporting a DeadHeat with JohnnyMcCain, are People enjoying a rather disassociated view of their Country, (which on most days Disassociation is something worth applauding), these Believers are definitely not out on the Streets & in the Mix, participating in TheWorld enveloping them. Anyone who thinks it is a close Race is most assuredly not riding TheTrains or TheBuses, not in TheStores or Restaurants , not interacting with colleagues or coworkers, not going to FamilyBBQ’s, not driving through the Neighborhoods, not really doing much of anything I suppose, not really noticing or observing any distinguishing details abound. B.Obama is going to embarrass JohnnyMcCain on November4th…A new version of an ol’ fashion political Stompdown.
Admittedly I am a CityBoy. For most of my AdultLife at least, I have lived, worked, operated in UrbanEnvironments, and still do…Which is a possible explanation for what I am testifying to now, the Obama madness that I am witness to, that Mania I see with my eyes in every direction I look & feel with the rest of my senses examining the rest of the evidence…But at the exact same time, I also am not oblivious to the fact that this Country is not 1 big City, there are vast sprawling RuralSwaths of MotherCountry, of devout Conservative Farmland & Suburb, containing People therein that probably lean McCain…Despite this appearance of demographic Balance, I steadfastly hold the prediction of an ObamaSweep.
MisterButtersmooth did not get to where He stands today by simply sprinkling ObamaDust over the Eyelids of everyone in his wake, lulling them into a HopefulStupor, amassing throngs of Obamacrats by seemingly doing nothing but Smiling & speaking eloquently… He didn’t get to where He stands today by being appointed or placed by someone else, He wasn’t a trophy token selection appointment like ColinPowell or CondaleezaRice…Barack stands where He stands today because He has ripped it out of the Hands of every Incumbent in every political race He has ever participated in. Obviously not by PhysicalForce, but better, by IntellectualForce, He has slapped around the StatusQuo with 5Ton Ideas since he stepped on the political Stage…Smothering every criticism, every critique with an artful rational counterpoint, with an unwavering aplomb, honesty, candor, acuity, with thought & care…He has been unflappable, in Victory, a Calm in a Swirl of History…
He has been shot out of a PoliticalCannon, virtually out of Nowhere, out of the shadows of Midwestern Obscurity, to smash & grab TheNomination from 1 of the most influential American political families, Dynasty’s of the ModernEra…Seemingly throwing the Challenge off with a shrug…Why would anything be different now, with a 72year old Opponent standing helplessly vulnerable before him, armed with nothing but old obsolete Ideas, staring down the Barrel of a high-powered LaserBeam of a new way of conducting political business…He is the exact Antidote to the deep gashes & bacterial infections from an 8Year DeathRoll within the grip of Incompetence of the CentralTexasYellowSnake.
And so…ThePraise continues. TheCapitulation continues. TheReshaping, TheReframing, TheRedefining continues. TheMovement gathers, TheSpeeches rally, TheRally excites, TheTentacles spread, TheClans unite, TheIdeas sharpen, TheDetails revealed, TheExpectations exceeded, TheMan impresses, TheMan shows out…everyday.
]]>You know, there's always been a group of folks dedicated to exoticism of one sort or another. Everything from Lord Byron's obsession over the greeks, to Quentin Tarrantino's excitement over Hong Kong. Most of it, I just chalk up to a result of provincialism: they just are bored with where they are.
But there's two that bug me. Japan and Britain. Don't get me wrong, I've got nothing against either Britain or Japan. It's just the way the yokels worship them. You know the types: the Steven Seagal type who have a basic misunderstanding of the Bushido, yet think of the Japanese as Vulcans. Then, there's the young romantic who thinks of the United Kingdom as the bastion of all that is civil and refined. See, my experience of the British has always been that they are the Americans of Europe. They're the drunks, hooligans, yahoos, and philistines.
Again, Don't get me wrong: I rather like the british, in all their brutish glory, but I don't think of them as any different to me. That's why i never have been prone to that kind of exoticism: I know that, basically, we're all the same.
So why am I picking on the anglophiles? I dunno. I guess it's just because I noticed it, today. Tomorrow I might go off on the whole worship of the Japanese.....
]]>Dear Gwen Stefani,
Okay. So you are pretty awesome. You're a good singer. You have really great style and your fashion line isn't too bad either. You have a killer stage presence that belies the sweet, almost shy persona you have in your interviews. "Hollywood hasn't gotten to Gwen Stefani," I thought, even when you ditched your band, completed a couple of high profile celebrity duets, started wearing couture, and became a rather shameless self-promoter in your solo career (eff the haters, I still love "Rich Girl" and "Cool" like it's 2005). You just seem like a normal, approachable person you can hang out and drink coffee with.
So I was watching E! this evening and I read the scrolling news ticker that announced that you'd had your baby. "It's about time she popped, she's been pregnant for twelve months," I thought. The ticker read that you'd named your baby Zuma. I initially wasn't crazy about the name but it was acceptable. Certainly it wasn't terrible in the vein of Pilot Inspektor or Audio Science. "How sweet," I thought, "she had a little girl."
Then two things happened.
1. The full name of your child was revealed-Zuma Nesta Rock Rossdale. "Zuma Nesta" sounds like something you take to help you fall asleep. And Rock? What? But I was willing to forgive this lapse in judgment because it is still a feminine enough name for your little girl.
2. But apparently you had a BOY.
Oh, honey, no. Gwen, why? Why would you give your little boy names that end with a feminine vowel like A? My brain just cannot comprehend what was going through your mind when you thought this would be an acceptable name to give your boy. Your first kid, Kingston, has a halfway normal name-what happened? Did you decide to let your toddler name the baby?
So I have to say that you crossed into the dark side of celebrity-dom, at least when it comes to baby names. Hopefully you can find your kid a decent nickname so that he doesn't emancipate himself from you in elementary school. Maybe "Zoom." Like those old car commercials ("ZOOM ZOOM ZOOM.") See what life you are setting up for your child?
Congratulations, by the way.
Sincerely,
Jenny
This is going to be my 2nd post in a row that mentions Georgia, only it's going to be a different Georgia.
From the Vox:
"Concerning idolizing movie, television and sports people, this is one of the signs of a society collapsing. Do some research and you'll find it's true."
We will ignore the fact that current western society was the first to have movies and television so there would be no deep history of such idolization causing societal collapse.
Yeah so I did some research and found that as long as there have been civilizations there have been pop idols. The genres and levels of exposure change but the cult of celebrity has been the norm forever.
The Ancient Chinese had writers and philosophers that reached legendary even godlike status. Of course their culture and history have survived everything from Japanese occupation to nearly 60 years of Commusocialitarian rulers so maybe having literate pop stars makes you immune to whatever failing this voxer thinks comes from pop culture.
Of the fallen societies:
I can’t find much on what kept the Minoans, Phoenicians or Babylonians entertained when they weren’t, ya know, creating the first honesttogawd civilizations with recorded histories. But they did like their tall tales so I imagine good storytellers were in demand by the masses.
The Greeks loved their actors, playwrights, poets and their athletes who, BTW, did their races and such naked. Now that would boost NBC’s ratings next week.
I digress. In Rome it was actors, gladiators, singers, athletes just about everything we have now plus the warrior class was also elevated to pop star status in many cases.
In modern times, the only real societal collapse we have is the USSR which collapsed from its own weight and overspending not because people liked their bootleg Bananarama cassettes.
We survived Beatlemania, so no, while I abhor the amount of ink and pixels wasted on entertainers, athletes and notalenthoes, I don’t think celebrity worship is going to topple society. However, I do think it is contributing to the gigantic dumb down that is happening in journalistic realms and that will have consequences.
]]>Republican Senator, John McCain, recently used Paris Hilton's likeness in an ad to mock Senator Obama as being the biggest celebrity in the world. The same ad questions Senator Obama's readiness to lead.
Although a McCain supporter, Paris Hilton's mother got into the act by condemning the ads. Her statement also berated the McCain camp for wasting supporters' contributions.
For the record Paris Hilton did not give permission to use her likeness. Now she offers her own solutions to our energy crisis in this must see video.
]]>Like the RawkusCrowd was chanting as Mr.JamesArthur“Art”Monk took the Podium, last SaturdayNight, on the Stage in Canton.Ohio, during the 4Minute StandingOvation, (the longest StandingO in the Hall’s history by the way) “It’s-about-time! – It’s-about-time!” It is about time. It’s been 13Years since 1 of the most prolific WideReceivers ever to have suited up & played the game of AmericanFootball retired…From my team, TheWashingtonRedskins. TheNFL has a policy of allowing a mandatory 5Years between the time a Player retires & when He can be eligible for the HallOfFame ballot, so 13Years retired, 5 mandatory years of ballot lockout, 8Years up for Vote by the HallOfFame voting committee, which is comprised of a selection of 44SportsWriters called the Board of Selectors, & 7Years unexplainably voted down by those “Selectors”…& on the 8th time around the MulberryBush, TheSelectors, I guess motivated by some sudden spontaneous Enlightenment, exercised executive football reasoning, accompanied by sound statistical sense & appreciation, to vote ArtMonk into EliteStatus, into the NFL Hall of Fame…#81, MisterLooseSleeves, the most productive member of the FunBunch, the SilentMaroonStreak that delivered the Goods on time over & over & over again, 15Years of clutch Reliability…& after delivering the Goods over & over, He didn’t go & stick his Mug in front of the camera & microphones afterwards to tell Us all how great He thought He & his Performance was, instead rarely saying anything, simply allowing his Hall of Fame performances Sunday in & Sunday out to act as his PressConference, as his Soapbox, his Bravado & Braggadocio…
ArtMonk is a thick inspirational Thread weaving in & out throughout the Fabric that I call my Life, my Adolescence to be specific…I can’t count how many times I announced to the opposing neighborhood team that they were up against Me, ArtMonk, & if you weren’t careful, I would beat You when You least expected it, with a perfectly run SkinnyPost, rubbing the Defender off with the prickly YardBush that marked the beginning of the EndZone…& so on 4th&10, down by 7, with my Mom imminently calling Me in for dinner, my 10Year old Imagination would slip into #81’s uniform, it would propel Me to step higher, to run faster & to leap farther, I would yank at my tshirt sleeves at the line of scrimmage to make them more loose, then go in motion, just as He did…HutHutHike!...Exploding off the line with my sleeves flapping against my chopstick arms, running a precise 25Yard PostPattern, waiving my left hand to the Quarterback when I separate from the 8Year old Cornerback, calling for the Ball, calling to win the Game, most of the time Nerf…most of the time not getting the Ball thrown my direction, most of the time not winning the Game…
When He quietly retired in 1995, he left the League as its ALLTIME LEADING RECEIVER in Catches with 940…Today, 2008, He stands #7 on that AllTimeList (notably, #12 in the AllTimeYardage list, too)…So, it came as a jolting shock to realize in 2000, the 1st year He was eligible to be voted in, that He was in fact passed over, instead handed the Indignity of Rejection, not able to establish the %80 threshold of the 44Person SelectionCommittee of SportsWriters to vote in the affirmative…Then, for the next 6Years, the same scenario unfolded, year after year, I would read in the margins of the WashingtonPost sports section, ArtMonk did not receive the necessary votes to be voted into the Hall of Fame, I couldn’t & still can’t believe the consecutive snubs, to what I thought was a surefire “1stBalloter”…& year after year, as ArtMonk witnessed 42 other NFL players get voted in after He became eligible for admission, ArtMonk remained stoic & silent, never spoke out against the NFL or the SelectionProcess, never leveled accusations against Anyone, never pointed a finger…He behaved consistent with how He had behaved as a Player for 15Years, & probably as He had all his Life; patient, dignified & classy. He waited his turn, & this Year, the Year of the Redskin, it happened, ironically enough with his Friend & Teammate DarrellGreen…
Another DataPoint of Note: I have always maintained that if I were to ever find myself in a position to name the Band I would be playing, I would have & still will call ourselves “TheArtMonks”…Since it is the name of a Band that will probably never be, it will instead be on the shortlist for my next tattoo, “TheArtMonks”, below my right elbow…I can just see it now…
Hey, what does yer arm say? TheArt…Whats?#%?
TheArtMonks…
TheArtMonks?#$?...What does that mean?
Oh, it’s the name of the Band I was never in...
Oh…What?%#?
Nevermind, leave Me alone…
EditorsNote.PostScript: Life has been jumping all over my back the past couple months, that is the general reason for my Inactivity, I have discovered certain Limitations about myself while in the Thick of it, in the Pocket of a Blitz, I discovered the point with which the Issues in my Life begin to paralyze or supersede or usurp other, unrelated parts of Myself, like writing, the past couple months, I rarely even thought about writing, the Blog, blogging…But as I begin to reach resolution on certain key hurdles, my urge to pound the Keyboard begins to rush back, the desire to participate in my own Life, the snatching back of Power…Like the Highlands releasing its Water & Energy down the fast flanks & faces of Itself onto the Plateau’s of thirsty arid Flatlands below…Reviving TheEarth like a WitchShaman…It’s the Return of the GulleyWasher.
“ Life can get all up in yo’ Ass…Baby, You better work it out…”
~ DeLaSoul
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So, I recently watched this film. It's not very good, and that might be the point. It stars Dwayne Johnson (formerly "The Rock" of the WWE), Justin Timberlake ( world famous for bringing Sexy Back) Seann William Scott (most notable for his roles in the American Pie franchise) Sarah Michelle Gellar (you know, Buffy, from the Vampire Slayer TV series) and about half of the latter day Saturday Night Live cast. The story is pseudo apocalyptic wherein denizens of the Hollywood substrata (Action Hero movie stars, Porn Starlets, performance Artists, poetry slammers) play a part in quasi mystic events involving politics, war and an energy crisis. Basically, I think Richard Kelly, the writer/director is really upset about Arnold Schwarzenegger, The Iraq war, and SUV's. He seems to be saying that hollywood is vacuous and distracting us from the reality of our situation. What he doesn't seem to understand is that he's soaking in it. He owes his career to hype, and the people who buy it. His last movie was pseudo-deep, and awkward, as is this one. So, this movie ends up being a parody of itself. All the gravel-voiced narration, signifying "this is secret, and important" is about nothing of any concern to the audience. The characters seem to be dazed little puppets, convinced of their genius, and their director's genius. But, it's all the emperor's new clothes. That makes the movie more interesting than trying to follow it along, and want a "good" movie. It's a bad movie, made by shallow people, decrying bad, shallow people. Irony is lost.
This is a Cd by