Strive to be a self-deprecating, low-affect citizen of the world.

Evel Knievel's jumping canyons in heaven now

Sat, 01 Dec 2007 04:42:38 GMT

Evel Knievel, asshole stuntman and patriot, died today at the age 69, apparently unable to recover after meeting Kanye West earlier this week (both pictured here tying at rock, paper, scissors yet again).

His death-defying days are over, but his spirit lives on in the hearts of... oh, I dunno, catfish noodling rednecks? In the words of Lance Murdoch, "Bones heal, chicks digs scars, and the United States of America has the best doctor-to-daredevil ratio in the world."

Laughing with the sinners...

Wed, 07 Nov 2007 05:59:24 GMT

Maybe it's a lack of perspective, but I often feel like I'm living in the most revolutionary era of our civilization. This is the era that's given us the information superhighway, the sequencing of the human genome, and, of course, Saw I - IV. We're bridging the gap between the metaphysical and, well, the physical. For the first time, we're examining aspects of the natural world that were hitherto relegated to the musings of philosophers and theologians - no, I don't consider theologians real philosophers.

And what has this age of reason and profound, scientific insight brought us but an intellectual regression into theocracy, mysticism, and mind-numbing ignorance and naivety? I'm speaking of course of NBC's Phenomenon, featuring Chris Angel and Uri Geller. In the show's premiere, a dramatic opening voice-over alludes to Uri Geller's past "controversies". Controversy must be reality show code for his being exposed as a charlatan time and time again thanks to skeptics like Johnny Carson and James Randi. But why let something as inconsequential as the complete and utter debunking of mentalism get in the way of a mentalist promoting continued belief in his brand of juju?

I'm not saying mentalism can't be entertaining, but a prominent feature of a lot of mentalists' acts is the purported existence and feigned contact with the spiritual world. Exploitative? You bet. But Geller didn't invent superstition or gullibility, he's just taking advantage of it. Just like the Catholic Church, just like the Christian Right, just like Islam and Israel, just like Pakistan and India, etc. The theory of evolution's struggle to gain notoriety is just the tip of the iceberg in this world of religious dominance. What a stark contrast it forms against the ever flowing stream of knowledge and information that connects us. I guess Dawkins was right about memetics: religion is viral, and our increased traffic of information hasn't just spread knowledge, it's also spread this little, parasitic motherfucker called blind faith so widely that our civilization is losing its mind to cultural syphilis.

That's why I want to bring attention to my new (non-)hero and penicillin of choice (the real thing would kill me!), Pat Condell, who, in these counter-intuitively counter-intuitive times, is a beacon of reason, and also dry, British humor.

Happy Samhain!

Wed, 31 Oct 2007 17:12:39 GMT

Do you believe in miracles?

Mon, 29 Oct 2007 17:49:45 GMT

Talk about it at Videocracy

Yes, a presidential ad for Ron Paul produced in 1987. I like the tone of the ad: polite but desperate. "Look, the man's a doctor! What more do you want? Come on, just vote for him!" Also, the kids seem to like him.

Well, Mr. Paul, if you're good enough for sincere, dull, white Middle Americans, then you're good enough for me. Best of luck!

Michael Jackson, Vincent Price, and the most non-threatening Phillipino inmates in history!

Thu, 26 Jul 2007 03:56:37 GMT

I'm pretty sure this is how the Standford prison experiment would have ended had it been allowed to run its course.

The tragedy of On The Lot

Wed, 18 Jul 2007 08:29:30 GMT

Is it someone's idea of clever meta-irony to leave a reality show about aspiring Hollywood directors in the hands of an incompetent director? I ask because I can't otherwise escape the conclusion that On The Lot is a sad, unfortunate train wreck. And how could that be? It's produced by Steven Speilberg! Gary Marshall is one of the judges! They cycle through a bevy of consumate directors who appear as guest judges, any one of whom must surely detect all the glaring mistakes of the resident director! This show is rife with able directors at various levels of production, and yet in spite of them all, every episode gives the impression the whole thing was thrown together the night before. On any given week you're guaranteed at least a couple of bumbling shots with cameras pointing in the wrong direction, an awkward performance by a host who doesn't really have her shit together, and a bizarre, constanly re-tooled format that seems to say: "Fuck it! Let's just get through this as quickly as possible!"

Nevertheless, I watch faithfully because, really, who doesn't like short films? And I sympathize with the contestants who not only direct their movies but must also write them. They're all struggling for validation in a way that I find more humanizing than the competition on, say, American Idol - there's less criteria for judging a talent like singing than there are for one like directing, which requires proficiency in a variety of different skills.

You also can't discover the ability to direct in the same way you can discover the ability to sing. A good director must necessarily learn skills over a long period of time and have certain experiences in order to develop technical ability. Without this process, you simply wouldn't have a good director. That's why you never see any ten-year-old prodigy directors, whereas the entertainment industry has an army of smiley, contractually-obligated super kids who sing and dance and star in their own little feature films. So why make competition-based reality shows about those kinds of talents? How is that interesting, to watch a competition between people with virtually fixed, inborn ablities? On the other hand I have been known to sit through more than one America's Next Top Model marathon, so maybe I'm being a tad judgmental.

In any case, I like the driving force behind On The Lot, but resent the fact that it's put together more flimsily than Hell's Kitchen, another show which, yes, I also happen to follow. And I'm rooting for Zach, because he makes movies like this:

Flip... flip... flip...

Tue, 17 Jul 2007 07:42:02 GMT

This is what I'm spending all my free time at work learning how to do:

Wooweee!

The Great American Sequel

Fri, 13 Jul 2007 07:53:44 GMT

The other night my roommates and I watched the World Series of Pop Culture Trivia Challenge on VH1. We play along, keep score, and the loser has to buy a six-pack for the next round. I lost this time, but it was in no way due to a dearth of pop culture knowledge - I remember a lot more about Family Matters than I'd like to admit. I lost simply because I tend to go blank even on the most familiar ground and my answer always come a split second too late.

Nevertheless, all this knowledge of pop culture got me thinking about our fascination with episodic storytelling. Why is it that we keep watching a TV show, even though every episode is just a variation on the original story? It seems like some basic human instinct to follow a series of events is being exploited here. We keep expecting a resolution, but it never comes. And yet we still fall for it.

That's why when I saw the latest news report on Al-Qaida, I couldn't help but think of another cherished American tradition: the sequel.

I looked it up, and the first sequel ever in film history was The Fall of a Nation in 1916, which I guess tied up all the loose ends left at the end of its predecessor The Birth of a Nation. But generally speaking producers steered clear of the sequel as they considered it a waste of money. They just weren't marketable back then.

That all changed in the 1930s however, when America got its first taste of the serial. What made serials special is that they weren't designed to tell a story at all, but rather to draw in audiences for future installments. Cliffhangers, they called them, because often times they would end with heroes literally hanging on for dear life. This kind of writing led to the first marketable sequels, and serials quickly evolved into television series.

Of course, when movies are written simply to accommodate a franchise, the whole art of storytelling is compromised. You end up having to reset everything, and there can never be any great revelation or dramatic change in a character. It's the same rule that applies to TV shows: nothing changes over time. That's why sequels are so lame. We've seen the same routine before.

And that brings me back to Al-Qaida.

As the Bush administration scrambles to downplay a report from counterterrorism analysts, it becomes clear that Al-Qaida has regained its operating capabilities to a level not seen since pre-9/11. Shocking, no? Then again, who really wants Al-Qaida to be dismantled? Whose interests does that serve?

Like with serials, it's in our government's interest to always leave a door open for a future installment. Why stay in Afghanistan and capture Osama Bin Laden when a sequel would be so much more profitable? Think of Halliburton and Blackwater as the slick producers forcing writers to add a cheap question mark to "The End".

So as I watch the news, I realize we're in for another Fall of the Nation. So much glitz, but as with most sequels, all we'll really end up with is the quiet shuffling of a disappointed audience exiting the theater.

Cloverfield

Wed, 11 Jul 2007 22:30:29 GMT

I've figured it out! At around 1:23, the guy yells what sounds like "I saw it! It's alive and it's huge!" But listen closely for yourself:

He's saying "It's Hawaiian, and it's huge!" He's clearly talking about zombie Don Ho, who's huge in Hawaii. Oh, and he's riding atop Godzilla.

Mystery solved!

Today we celebrate my independence!

Mon, 09 Jul 2007 03:42:37 GMT

Happy birthday to me! Notice that I didn't need any fireworks to mark the occasion or any federal holidays established in my honor. That's how most people celebrate their birthday, America.

Crazy robots from space!

Thu, 05 Jul 2007 04:37:50 GMT

July the fourth. I watched Transformers today and my fear that all the kids in the theater would ruin the movie for me was unwarranted. It's not the kids that ruined it. It's the fact that this movie was made for kids. Now if you're like me, you grew up watching Transformers in all its cartoonish glory. Yes, I remember them fondly. There was that one that turned into a truck, and another one that turned into a gun or something. And I remember something about a boombox.

Okay, fine. So I never really watched Transformers as a kid. Maybe I shouldn't have been in that theater either. If my childhood television habits dictate my movie-going enjoyment as an adult, then by all rights I should be holding out for Smurfs: The Movie, or a live action Gummy Bears saga. Still, can't we make a movie about space robots that turn into brandname vehicles with all the dignity it deserves?

Anyway, here are some alternative taglines that might help other movie-goers know what they're getting into:

Transformers: A shitty comedy with a gagillion dollar special effects budget.

Transformers: A teen romance starring Shia Lebeouf... and something about robots.

Transformers: It's like Snowdogs, but with piston and kooky gagdets.

Transformers: If you can follow these action sequences, then maybe you're a robot!

Additionally, I appreciate that Hollywood executives continually believe that we're too simple to enjoy a movie unless all its characters are sarcastic and/or "radical" and "extreme". It gives me a sense of permanence in the world, and I find that comforting.

The weirdest thing is that this movie is basically a marketing machine which has transformed itself into the unassuming shape of a summer action blockbuster. And there is a profound symmetry in how it exploits our nostalgia for a cartoon which used to hawk toys for Hasbro.

Scratch that, the weirdest thing is how Shia Lebeouf and Megan Fox practically start fucking on Bumblbee's hood at the end of the movie. I mean wouldn't that be a little awkward? Fucking on what basically amounts to an alien's lap? With all the other Autobots watching in silence? Come on, guys.

Okay, so apparently, u can finish.

Sun, 27 May 2007 01:06:01 GMT

The semester ended a few weeks ago, and on Friday I received my diploma in a plain white envelope. I'm not sure what I expected, but I pulled out this $20,000 piece of paper and it evoked absolutely nothing in me. No joy, or relief, or some sort of nostalgic pang. I held it in my hands and watched it bend flimsily. I began to read it but quickly lost interest and skimmed through the rest. I rubbed the little black and gold UCF seal at the bottom - it's nice and smooth, I have to give it that. I grabbed a magnet and stuck it on the fridge door.

So this is a college diploma. I suppose that makes me a college graduate, but I don't feel any different. I certainly don't feel any smarter or advantaged. I don't feel particularly knowledgable in any specific field. So what's the big fucking deal here? I feel like I've been had. Like, there really is no University of Central Florida. It was just some enormous scam to cheat me out of my time and money. If I go back there tomorrow I'll find only a deserted field. "I got my Bachelor of Arts degree from the institution right over... there."

On-lookers will shake their heads with pity. "That diploma ain't worth the envelope it came in!" And that's really a shame, because I accidently tore the envelope while trying to open it cleanly. Surely a college graduate should be able to handle an envelope? What's wrong with me?

I'm currently applying to the University of Florida to complete a Master's degree in Germanic Studies. This will probably not make me feel any smarter or better either. And the idea that I will be able to get a good job afterwards, while probably true, seems secondary. Why does my education seem so dumb and superficial? It all feels like a big fucking empty gesture. There's something really unsettling about naively giving somebody 20,000 dollars so that they tell you that you're smart. I feel like that's what happened. Because I never really cared so much about getting a good job, I was more interested in pursuing knowledge for its own sake. So, yeah. I think the joke is on me. You got me, society. Good one.

Good one.

Anna Nicole Smith Dead At 39 - Her Lifeless, Bloated Corpse Still Hot!

Fri, 09 Feb 2007 07:12:59 GMT

Anna Nicole Smith died yesterday after collapsing at a hotel. I bet the gang at VH1 feels pretty shitty right now.

Space Love

Thu, 08 Feb 2007 05:09:42 GMT

I was watching CNN's coverage of the Lisa Nowak story, and one of the journalists, describing her withdrawn demeanor in court, commented that Nowak was "literally in another world".

Really? She was literally in another world? That's the problem with trying to prosecute astronauts: they go and flee to other planets. They're so crafty!

Internet + Irony = A Humbling Feeling of Uncertainty

Sun, 28 Jan 2007 16:28:12 GMT

Irony is the guerrilla warfare of language. It sneaks in and attacks under the cover of night, or, in more contemporary terms, it's the smiling roadside Iraqi villager that blows up in your face. It's not what it seems to be, and therein lies its beauty, because good irony can really be anything, and everything, and also, of course, nothing. In fact, the very best irony is practically invisible. That is the nature of irony.

And that is also, perhaps, the nature of Donnie Davies, the seemingly militantly Christian band leader of the hilariously named "Evening Service" band and a member of the Love God's Way Ministries, which seeks to cure homosexuals and turn them into "ordinary people". Watch his The Bible Says music video and judge for youself: subtle, Stephen Colbertian irony, or ridiculous, cartoonish reality? I wasn't entirely sure until I read the LGW's list of gay bands to keep away from your kids. It includes notoriously gay artists like Kansas and Frank Sinatra (or should I say... Francis?), as well as Ted Nugent, whose gay antics have undoubtedly drawn more than one doe-eyed school boy into their fold. Also on the list is a slew of indie rock bands only some amazingly hip ministry would even be aware of. I don't care how gay your kid is, if he's into these bands, he's getting pussy whether he likes it or not.

Pleased with my ability to detect bullshit on the web, I move on, riding the gentle pull of the internet's current, and I come upon The Right Brothers. More scathing irony, right? A right-wing, neo-con pop punk band??? Come on! "I'm in love with Ann Coulter"? This has to be a joke, right?? Riiiight?!

But I look at their webpage, and I look at their myspace, and they actually seem to be serious. So why is it so funny? I wonder. Because a part of me is looking for some great irony that isn't there, still believing that this is really an ingenious, well-crafted joke. And then I blame Donnie Davies for having me believe I could actually understand when the internet's being clever and ironic. I'm forced to reconsider Donnie Davies himself. Maybe it wasn't a joke. But then again maybe The Right Brothers is an even better joke... Hm.

Imagine if Stephen Colbert were just a little subtler, and his show aired on Fox News... Or better yet, what if Bill O'Reilly is really the most amazing comedian that ever lived?

I guess all I can do it treat it all as comedy. The reformed homosexual with an acoustic guitar and a creepy mustache, and the pop punk outfit with Ann Coulter on the brain and a rage-for-the-machine energy. Man, I'd absolutely love to see these two acts play together.

Haikus About College Girls I Currently Want to Do

Thu, 25 Jan 2007 00:51:51 GMT

Jessica speaks much

But oh, her cleavage lengthens

My attention span

***

Dear girl in my class,

I don't know your name but you

could be an angel.

***

Gas station visit

lasts longer than expected

"I know her from school!"

***

Hip chick, I swear I'm

Scene - I once played in a band!

Will you sleep with me?

***

Like Jedi mind tricks,

Red hair and green eyes control

A weak minded fool

America bids farewell to Saddam Hussein

Tue, 02 Jan 2007 20:18:52 GMT

WASHINGTON - The nation remembered Saddam Hussein on Tuesday for what he didn't have — pretensions, a scheming agenda, a great golf game — as much as for the small-town authenticity he brought to the presidency.

On the tarmac at Andrews Air Force Base, against the hulking backdrop of the White House jet, the Air Force Band played the slow strains of "Going Home" as the Sunni president went home — to Ouja, Tikrit, and what will be his final resting place on a hillside.

"In President Hussein, the world saw the best of America and America found a man whose character and leadership would bring calm and healing to one of the most divisive moments in our nation's history," President Bush said in his eulogy.

Jesus Christ Super Lizard

Thu, 21 Dec 2006 17:02:13 GMT

A British zoo is expecting a virgin birth from a Komodo dragon named Flora who, I'm guessing, must be quite pleased with herself right now. Although self-fertilization has been documented in other lizards, it was previously considered to be an impossibility for larger species, save for the occasional Holy Mother of God, of course. As luck would have it, the miracle will transpire around Christmas.

Now I put it to you, could it be possible that the most famous virgin birth in history was simply a rare, human brand of parthenogenesis? Was the Son of God nothing more than a man with lizard-like resources? Yes, and yes. I have no doubt that a more accurate preservation of the Gospels would contain crucial information about Jesus's shiny scales.

The twist is that the genetics of self-fertilization dictate that the lizards hatchlings will all have to be males, meant to mature and eventually mate with their own mother. So, could Jesus Christ have been a motherfucker? Your instincts tell you no, but remember that we're dealing with a lizard-Jesus endowed with an entirely different set of self-preservatory capabilities. This is a crafty Jesus that shrugs off the otherwise necessary factor of a biological father and instead brings himself into existence through sheer determination.

This is the real Da Vinci Code, the truth about Jesus that must be covered up, but the clues have always been there. Like, why eggs for Easter? And is it a coincidence that today so many men named Jesus own lizards? Surely this all means something!

Well, Flora knows what her eggs mean, and you can see it in her smug, little lizard smile. Her eggs bridge a gap between nature and nurture, a gap that we refuse to bridge on our own because the implications are just too horrible. But it's true. We are animals, and there is nothing special or unique about us. As a great lizard once said, "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth." It's time to get our meek on, people.

Merry Christmas.

Abortions for all!

Wed, 08 Nov 2006 18:13:42 GMT

Democrats have taken the House, they're taking the Senate, we have a female Speaker, and Rumsfeld is stepping down.

What strange alternate dimension did I wake up in today?

A Review of the Classy Classy Video Music Awards

Fri, 01 Sep 2006 18:46:40 GMT

Well, I watched MTV's Video Music Awards last night, and maybe I'm getting a little old, but what's wrong with kids today?

Jack Black hosted, and his what-if-everything-goes-wrong opening bit somewhat backfired when a surprising number of things did go wrong, starting sadly with Lou Reed playing with the Raconteurs. Now, yes, Lou Reed is a music legend. And, yes, The Raconteurs are a pretty cool band, but it embarasses me to see either of them on the VMAs, let alone both of them together. Jack Black joked at one point that he and Jack White should start a band, to which Mr. White sort of smiled but mostly grimaced at the sad, burning wreckage of Jack Black's career. And also, as a rule, music legends should most definitely not be caught presenting anything with Pink. Pink!! It's hard to tell who they were boo-ing, but Reed's indictment against MTV for not playing enough rock music was probably confusing to the younger kids. MTV doesn't play music anymore, Lou!

To the director, I'd like to point out that it is customary for all microphones backstage to be turned off while someone is onstage presenting. Otherwise, we clearly hear things like, "What's wrong? Oh my God!" while the Blackeyed Peas are trying to talk, and for the love of God, let them talk! Also, loud obnoxious interlude music should come on only AFTER James Blunt accepts his award.

Sarah Silverman is not funny. Maybe Mr. Show made us believe that she was, but she is not. She had three big jokes last night: Lance Bass is gay, marijuana makes you act all crazy, and Paris is fat. The last one didn't make any sense, and the rumors that Nicole Richie has an eating disorder probably made Silverman's routine even more awkward and uncomfortable.

The highlight of the night came right after Jennifer Lopez, who was wearing one of those Star Trek doctor uniforms, presented the final award for Best Music Video. A man jumped on stage, grabbed her microphone and introduced himself as Six. "MTV won't give me my own show," and something about a website is all he managed before he was tackled and escorted offstage, just as Panic! At The Disco made their way to the shiny Star Trek lady. I was shocked. Panic! At The Disco is a popular band that people listen to? Crazy! Hey, somebody give that Six his own show!

The whole thing seemed like a frantic fever dream, jarring and spectacular, but ultimately non-sensical. Al Gore was there, doing his thing, apparently hanging out with the Jackass boys backstage. Axle Rose, for some reason, introduced The Killers, and in the middle of all this a tired looking Snoop Dogg came out and, surrounded by all this bright, expensive madness, he lamented, perhaps spitefully, how he was an old man amidst beautiful, talented children.

Amen.

No flies.

Wed, 12 Jul 2006 21:41:19 GMT

Shine on, Roger.

Thoughts While Watching Anger Management

Sat, 10 Jun 2006 18:50:24 GMT

Does Anger Management mean anything? I mean in a cosmic, greater meaning kind of way. What's the point of Adam Sandler and Jack Nicholson doing a movie together? Jack Nicholson spends the whole movie degrading himself while Adam Sandler plays the straight man, riffing on Jack's quirky eccentricities... but it makes no sense. Jack Nicholson has won Oscars. Adam Sandler is starring in Click!

This movie shakes me to my core. There's something wrong with it. It hints at all the problems arising from a media soaked generation that has so much useless information to process it doesn't know anything made before 1992.

"Ha ha, look at that old guy! He sure is weird! Adam is hilarious in this!!"

Jack Nicholson isn't even a good comedy actor! This just makes no sense. It's like... Meet The Parents, but worse. Meet The Parents if Robert Deniro humilated himself every five seconds by, I dunno, crapping in his pants or something.

Nothing means anything anymore. Ever.

I hate phantom space man!

Wed, 31 May 2006 04:36:27 GMT

Venture Bros dvd = hooray!

Hank & Dean: Go Team Venture!
Pirate: ...
Brock: I don't know, they just do that.

an inconvenient spoof!

Fri, 26 May 2006 07:35:48 GMT

Someone should really make a mockumentary about making documentaries and call it an inconvenient spoof. It would amuse me greatly.

Suicide Club - Virgins Are Welcome!

Fri, 05 May 2006 05:48:59 GMT

Just watched Suicide Club. Strange movie, though it does fortify my fear and distrust of Japanese children. Also, Genesis looks an awful lot like Ziggy Stardust. Hmmm...