It's been a year. If you were around a year ago today, you may have been praying for my soul. This was to be expected. I was a wreck. Not in the attractive poetic sense. I am happy to say that things are far better. Today I sit in class bored out of my mind, worried of the future (or in this case, my lack of future beyond my room at home and the unemployment line). But comfortable in my own skin. I have come to terms with 95% of the demons in my life, and have replaced them with friendships, sensitivity analyzes, and garbage trucks in surprisingly equal amounts. I am often nostalgic about the past, but never about this past. This past is better off past-tense...where it belongs. Life is never measured by how one handles their vices, but in how quickly they handle each particular vice. Everyone has something, and everyone deals. But some deal in months, others weeks. Still others deal in years, in decades, in lifetimes. How quickly one deals with their issues will ultimately dictate a large portion of your life. This is all part of the process, changing rates from years to months, from weeks to days, hopefully.
But this is not about me, not explicitly at least. I am self(ish)-aware enough to provide implicit windows. Even in reflection. Even in effigy. In this note, even in eulogy.
I have dealt with death in the past. I'm not really at liberty to say how well I handle it generally. I would like to think whatever front I put up is at least adequate. But I've had three deaths that I don't think I'll ever get over. Uncle Kerry will always exist as a reminder of what I will never understand about humanity. Mike will always exist as a reminder of human frailty. But Tom, his is a reminder of these things I have tried to leave behind. Since it is ultimately a reminder of personal limitations, of unrequited ignorance -- it still keeps me up at night. It is what keeps me typing in the early morning hours.
I can't characterize my friendship with Tom. In one sense, we never really went anywhere. We had an eighteen month period, from 16.5 - 18 where we were arguably inseparable. We both worked around thirty five hours a week during this time period. Consider sleep took up forty nine hours a week and school twenty four, there was a good chance we saw each other more than we saw our families during this time period. But then comes college, and other friends, and other dorm rooms, and other realities. We should have never talked to one another again. But this didn't happen. We kept intersecting. Once a year, twice a year. A phone call here, a well placed visit to my work there. He was always online. There was always solace online. Until one day he wasn't. Until one day he instant messaged me and I decided the comfort, nay, the necessity, of inebriation outweighed the simple response of hello. He would never be online again. And this is why his death still hurts. It was compounded by choice, the choice that my selfishness could continue to exist alongside friendships. Friendships that are not immutable. Friendships that answer to forces beyond their control.
But there's always this other sense. The sense that we lived an entire lifetime in tiny increments. Increments of register cleaning. Increments of (horrific, oh how horrific) song writing. Increments of choreographed dancing. Increments of concerts, both large and small. Increments of acceptance, of the knowledge that seventeen year-old thoughts could be said and not judged. Increments of sustained dialogue across state lines. But this sense only came postmortem. It took a death to realize what should have been clear.
Part of it, though, is that he saved my life. Literally. Choices he made ended up saving my life. Had he chosen differently, I would surely be dead. I couldn't reciprocate. What if I had chosen differently? What if I had responded to that late night IM? Would this note be necessary? In his final act, Tom would show me what I had become. And he would direct me down a path that would save my life again. Again. But that was Tom. It was always Tom.
Today I was sitting in the very back of the bus on my way to class. It gets crowded, oftentimes standing room only. Every seat in the front of the bus was full. It was like this when the bus stopped, and two mothers with their children came on the bus. Each had a large contraption, not unlike a large hand truck. Each mother was clearly struggling with their things. Not one person offered a hand. Not one person offered their seat. Tom would have. Tom would have taken the hand trucks and found a place for them as well. He would have played with the kids, not only because they would enjoy it, but because he would have known the mother's needed the brief reprise. But Tom wasn't on the bus, so none of this happened. Everyone just looked straight ahead, wholly unconcerned. They both struggled, but eventually made it to the back of the bus. I just sat, with my memories of Tom as a person, and of Tom as my friend, and all I could think of was...
Why?
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Can I Have 1991 Back?
I have a few days to go before the semester begins, so the only thing I really have to do is go into work at my campus job, and by job, I mean "place where I get to roam the internet freely." Today was just like any other day, where I am given about 1.5 hours of work to do in a 4 hour time frame, so I'll often sit with a note pad and jot down random things. I often do this after reading the New York Times. And all the New York Times tells me is how shitty the world is, and how nearly every single Democratic Black Leader hates Obama, so I'm usually not in the best of moods. For some reason today, I wrote "emocons," cracked myself up, and then wrote "vast emocon conspiracy" with badly drawn doodlings of various members of the Bush administration with hair swoops, hoodies and ugly tattoos. (Note: like neo-cons, neoconservatives. if you don't get that this might seem odd.) I then wrote shitty "emocon" poetry of President Bush trying to justify the Iraq War, which consisted of the following:
Black, inconsequential death.
WMD's
I then proceeded to make a list of why I liked 1991 better. My stream of consciousness has more tributaries than the Mississippi River.
American Gladiators
You gotta give it to the old school Gladiators. They didn't have all this HGH, "the creme" and "the clear crap." You know what Malibu had? Anabolic steroids and horse tranquilizers. Now that's a real man.
Madonna really had a good 1991. She more or less tried to stick with her strengths, as the magazine cover shows. In 2008, now she wants to be a "musician." Look at me, I'm holding a guitar that's short of shaped like a V hee hee hee. I'm nearly 50, but look at how great I look, never mind the only thing I have to do is drink Kabbalah water and ruin Guy Ritchie's career by making him cast me in movies!
Do me a favor Madonna: if a phallic object isn't near your mouth, don't bother opening it.
I know most of you think I am a shitty emo kid, of course I am. But even I respect the total badass that Metallica used to be. Ride the Lighting, ...And Justice For All. That is the shit, right there. I'm even a fan of post-Cliff Burton Metallica. Jason Newstead probably eats rocks, and that's everything I want in a metal bassist. The Black Album, while not bringing the rock as well as other albums, still had an acceptable pain to monster song ratio. Now? Lars Ulrich tries to hide his baldness and Napolean Complex by going to art auctions and suing his fans.
Now really, in conjunction with the picture on the right, any picture would look better by comparison. At least in 1991 Britney looked normal with a normal upbringing. We all know now, what with her kid sister getting knocked up, that this probably wasn't the case. Is there a worse mother than Lynne Spears? Dick Cheney has a better maternal instinct.
One of the best parts of 1991 was, of course, that Miley Cyrus didn't exist. We were still a full eighteen months before the spawning of this devil child. Apparently it isn't just a television show, it's also a full concert tour. Mothers wait days in line, pay upwards of $2000 per ticket, and Cyrus doesn't even perform the whole show. The only question that really remains is which Jonas Brother she is boning. Notice that I could have used Zach Efron from High School Musical to advance the same argument instead of Miley Cyrus -- he wears so much eye liner and foundation that I wouldn't even need a different picture.
Who knew that drafting Sammy Sosa would prove to be the best decision he ever made as an executive? We found out, though, that being a baseball owner makes you wholly prepared to run the most powerful country in the world. I liked him better when his executive decisions involved team-building, not nation-building.
Black, inconsequential death.
WMD's
falling
falling
falling
falling
falling
falling
falling
A Child cries, Saddam lies...
I could be my daddy.
I then proceeded to make a list of why I liked 1991 better. My stream of consciousness has more tributaries than the Mississippi River.
1991 or 2008?
American Gladiators
You gotta give it to the old school Gladiators. They didn't have all this HGH, "the creme" and "the clear crap." You know what Malibu had? Anabolic steroids and horse tranquilizers. Now that's a real man.
Madonna
Madonna really had a good 1991. She more or less tried to stick with her strengths, as the magazine cover shows. In 2008, now she wants to be a "musician." Look at me, I'm holding a guitar that's short of shaped like a V hee hee hee. I'm nearly 50, but look at how great I look, never mind the only thing I have to do is drink Kabbalah water and ruin Guy Ritchie's career by making him cast me in movies!
Do me a favor Madonna: if a phallic object isn't near your mouth, don't bother opening it.
Metallica
I know most of you think I am a shitty emo kid, of course I am. But even I respect the total badass that Metallica used to be. Ride the Lighting, ...And Justice For All. That is the shit, right there. I'm even a fan of post-Cliff Burton Metallica. Jason Newstead probably eats rocks, and that's everything I want in a metal bassist. The Black Album, while not bringing the rock as well as other albums, still had an acceptable pain to monster song ratio. Now? Lars Ulrich tries to hide his baldness and Napolean Complex by going to art auctions and suing his fans.
Britney Spears
Now really, in conjunction with the picture on the right, any picture would look better by comparison. At least in 1991 Britney looked normal with a normal upbringing. We all know now, what with her kid sister getting knocked up, that this probably wasn't the case. Is there a worse mother than Lynne Spears? Dick Cheney has a better maternal instinct.
Hannah Montana/ Miley Cyrus
One of the best parts of 1991 was, of course, that Miley Cyrus didn't exist. We were still a full eighteen months before the spawning of this devil child. Apparently it isn't just a television show, it's also a full concert tour. Mothers wait days in line, pay upwards of $2000 per ticket, and Cyrus doesn't even perform the whole show. The only question that really remains is which Jonas Brother she is boning. Notice that I could have used Zach Efron from High School Musical to advance the same argument instead of Miley Cyrus -- he wears so much eye liner and foundation that I wouldn't even need a different picture.
George W. Bush
Who knew that drafting Sammy Sosa would prove to be the best decision he ever made as an executive? We found out, though, that being a baseball owner makes you wholly prepared to run the most powerful country in the world. I liked him better when his executive decisions involved team-building, not nation-building.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Excuse me, large SUV: I'm trying to run with my dog. It's really hard to keep my optimum heart rate up with you trying to use these paved roads...
I have a news flash: All dogs hate running. They also hate getting dressed up in clothing. This is because they already have clothing, also known as fur. But they REALLY hate running. I'm pretty sure they only tolerate walking because it is paired with the act of excreting bodily fluids (which, in contrast, dogs LOVE). But place yourself in the dog's position for a second...
"Fucking A this is awesome! I had to go so bad! Can't wait to go to that old patch of grass and mark my territory... hey, dude, that shit is the other way. Wait, why does he have those ugly shoes on? Why are his pants so fucking short? Shit man, why the fuck are you running!?!!?"
Show Man's Best Friend an ounce of respect and leave them home while you jog. And better yet, if you have to take the dog with you, could you use the fucking sidewalk? It makes it difficult to drive my car with you and your four-legged-friend taking up the entire lane. If there was a way I could save the dog and just run you over, I would. However, there are all these laws and shit against it, so just use a fucking treadmill or something.
Thanksgiving Day Parade > Rose Parade
I know the Berlin Wall fell and democracy won, but these types of things don't happen under fascism.
Huh? Another 2007 Year-in-Review? w00t w00t!
The Year of Our Lord Two Thousand and Seven has passed into the annals of history. Many Many Many make lists of notable things that occurred throughout the year, and place them onto the interweb. Try as I might, I cannot do anything but concur that this is something that should be done. However, I'm not really okay with lists. Don't give me forty best albums, give me one. Don't give me five top shows, give me one. I could hardly be bothered. And we all know this shit is relative, but it would help if you could sound like you knew what you were talking about (I'm talking to every single fucking blogger/fanzine/music periodical that picked LCD Soundwhatever as the best album. I don't care what anybody says, the shit sucks. Bad.)
Best Album of 2007: "Not-a-surprise Division"-- Chase This Light, Jimmy Eat World
It isn't a surprise because they've done it so long. This kicks the crap out of their last album Futures, in terms of quality, and comes pretty close to Clarity in terms of overall cohesiveness. "Big Casino" is everything you'd expect out of the first single, "Carry You" bleeds emotion, "Gotta Be Somebody's Blues" haunts all the way, and "Here it Goes" is "Authority Song" Part Deux. If you like music with chords, you should check this out.
Best Book I read in 2007, but not necessarily released in 2007 -- High Fidelity, Nick Hornsby
Cited so often by everyone, that I've put off reading it for so long only because I thought I knew what it was about. After reading it, I realized I was partly right. There were about twelve lines I had heard verbatim from other sources. Every late 20th century post modern book on love owes their residual checks to this release. I'm pretty sure I echo the narrator four times in this post alone.
Best Random Dual Acquaintance of 200y: Barton's Pub, Bucky the Bartender
Bucky the Bartender is a forty two year old reformed drug user/two time NYC Marathon Runner who kept prodding my friend Kyle to slap his ass, ostensibly because he felt he looked younger than forty two, which he did. For someone who was drunk, he was sort of a dick to me. We left the bar as his twenty six year old girlfriend, who actually looked forty two, was ready to stab him with a shiv as she was made to drag him to his Jeep as rain continued to pour. Fast forward thirty six hours to a seemingly benign conversation with my father. Apparently his band has played Barton's Pub, and he's on a first name basis with Bucky the Bartender. Bucky also is married (to a different woman) with two kids. It is sealed when my father goes, "Yea, he has a Jeep." These types of things only happen in the wee early hours of the morning in northern-central NJ.
Best Album of 2007: "Left Field Division" -- The Black and White Album, The Hives
I'm more than a bit biased, but in an odd sort of way. If I ever had a band, I would want it to sound (and act) like the Hives. They are silly motherfuckers. And I sort of wish I wrote a song called "A GetTogether to Tear Apart." Their last album was awesome, but it came out at a time when my alcohol tolerance was such that three shots of raspberry vodka had me making ghetto beats from an empty towel roll (also known as 2004). Then they procrastinated for like two years, in which their only musical output was a well-played joint on Timbaland's vanity project, only to then shack up in Mississippi with Pharrell for the 3rd album. The results are staggering, considering the formula up to this point was: Pick three chords, pray they are in the same key, play them fast, and when in doubt, howl and add handclaps. Highly effective. All of a sudden, there's all this musical progression. "Try It Again" makes me want to do a Russian Vodka Dance. It will make you as well.
Worst Song of 2007 that is cited in Critics' Best of Lists: Lip Gloss, Lil' Mama
Critics have put this song on some pedestal, claiming it's simple beat-plus-vocals equals musical sparseness, which in turn equals impressiveness. I don't know what they are listening to: it's a song about fucking lip gloss. If you want a sparse musical landscape, listen to some fucking Dylan, not a fifteen year old spreading her legs in time with a drum fill.
Best Song that Didn't Get Enough Credit Because It Uses An Open Refrigerator as a Metaphor for a Failed Relationship: Sweet Escape, Gwen Stefani feat. Akon
Look, Gwen Stefani confuses me just as much she confuses you. I don't know why Japanese girls follow her around, and I'm not sure where exactly she buried the manhood of Gavin Rosdale (although I think this is the premise of National Treasure 2), but this song is great.
Best Television Show: The Office
Everyone and their mother have spoken the virtues of this show. This is partly the reason why it took me so long to give this a chance. I am an odd beast. If enough people tell me something is transcendent, I immediately begin to question the validity of these claims. I almost wrote the show off, mainly because the 1st season only has one REALLY funny part (Michael's Diversity Video) I then skipped to the 3rd season, because I watched the Season 2 finale on TBS, and was hooked. While not nearly as good as Arrested Development, it still has the high "quality joke per episode ratio" that no other current show has. The only downside is I now watch more network television than I ever have before in my life, and this has to converge with an unprecedented writer's strike.
Best Television Show that Rebounded After Jumping the Shark: Scrubs
The first four seasons of Scrubs is gold. Season 5 represents a large downturn. Janitor vs. J.D. and Dr. Cox Ranting no longer was as fresh as in seasons past. The Mandy Moore angle served no real purpose, and at around the time J.D. BOUGHT A FUCKING HOUSE, no wait, A PLOT OF LAND, even I couldn't defend it anymore. However, the few bright spots, including the fabulous "depressed Dr. Cox" storyline, kept me intrigued enough to give Season 6 and beyond a chance. Luckily, Season 6 and the beginning of Season 7 are far better. Anything with J.D. and Eliot is still a bit stale, and for all its hype, the musical episode is just okay, but the supporting cast, including Turk and Dr. Kelso, consistently bring it. Did I mention yet how much I hate the writer's strike? Oh, only briefly. Let me reiterate: I hate the strike.
Most Disappointing Album of 2007: Echoes, Silence, Patience, & Grace -- Foo Fighters
I can't believe I just typed that. This kills 90% of everything released this year, and seven tracks are solid. But this album contains way too much filler. Dave Grohl needs to stop wearing his classic rock influences on his sleeve, and just bring the rock (see The Pretender, Let It Die, Long Road to Ruin) and branch out only when it represents actual musical growth (see the Steely Dan inspired Statues). "Stranger Things Have Happened" and "Come Home" kill the flow of the album. "Summer's End" is forced 7o's rock, "Erase/Replace" builds up towards for a chorus that never comes, and the final track should have been cut completely, with the closing duties left to the "New Way Home"-ish "But, Honestly." I still love Dave Grohl, and I'm still a fan of this album, just not as much as previous material.
Best Television Channel: VH1
I'm as surprised as you, but the fact still remains: VH1 programming has consistently entertained me more than any other channel this past year. Scott Baio is 45 and Single, Rock of Love with Brett Michaels, Flavor of Love, I Love New York, The Pick Up Artist. I'm even not above watching recycled America's Next Top Model Seasons in their entirety. Judge me all you want, but when I'm bored, the first channel I click is 36 on my Time Warner Digital Cable Box.
Oddest Movie: The Waitress
I can't even describe how weird this movie is, I'm not going to try. Just rent it and watch as you get lulled into a false sense of being entertained, only to go after the credits begin to roll "What the hell just happened?"
Worst Commercial: Budweiser Commercials with Rob Riggle
Now, this is a little late, since I don't know if they premiered at the end of 2007 or the beginning of 2008, but they are awful. I just watched one where Rob Riggle was whoring the new and improved "Stay Fresh Cap" that "locks in freshness." What did Budweiser caps do before this? This is like building a car and then praising its ability to propel forward.
Most Overblown Report Written by a Former Congressman: The Mitchell Report
Note: I will be speaking for a bit in Baseball Nerd. If you are unfamiliar with this dialect, please skip to the next Award.
Wow, steroid use in baseball was rampant. Who would have ever imagined that? Pitchers were coming off Tommy John Surgery throwing five to seven miles an hour FASTER than when they had blew their arm out. Brady Anderson hits 51 HRs! I'm not even sure this bothers me. All it shows is that some superstars will do ANYTHING to stay at an optimal level of fitness, and to produce superstar numbers for as long as possible. It also shows that if you don't have natural ability, there is a 99% chance the only thing steroids will do is lower your sperm count and give you that unibrow all the girls go wild for. Oh, and as a Yankees fan, I don't want to hear about the preponderance of Yankees in the report. Since the two main sources were affiliated with New York teams, coupled with the constant bench player turnover, it makes sense that the Yankees would be over-represented. We had seven relevant players on our 2001 team that were taking enough human growth hormone to choke a musk ox, and we still lost the World Series. That's all I have to say, I'll be in the corner with a "Joba Rules" t-shirt pressed firmly in each ear as I hear about the "Curse of Human Growth Hormone" for the next six months.
Worst Presidential Candidate(s): Tie -- Mitt Romney and Mike Huckabee
I'll take on Mitt first. His "JFK Speech" where he basically said, "Christian Fundamentalists, who else are you going to vote for? That Slim Fast chugging Evangelical guy? The thrice married liberal mayor of 9/11 err New York City? I may be a Mormon, but I understand the need to whore myself out to the base of the Republican Party. I say now, let me be your religious zealot..." would have been a good tongue-in-cheek Daily Show spoof, if he wasn't being so dead fucking serious. Mike Huckabee proudly wears his evangelicism on his sleeve, which would have been a lot easier for him a few years, and a hundred and fifty pounds, ago. (Too soon?) He has "the moment" of the Republican debates, when he pwned the rest of the field on their collective and inane anti-immigration jingoism, but he also has curious stances, including the abolishment of the Internal Revenue Service, and the belief that "politics are totally directed by worldview. That's why when people say, 'We ought to separate politics from religion,' I say to separate the two is absolutely impossible." This creates a whole host of problems, but I would like to stick with the positives. The main positive about this stance is that if he truly does believe in the integration of religion into politics, Huckabee would be in complete favor of providing transcripts of his sermons (in an effort of full disclosure) given as the head of his Baptist congregation, since they would hypothetically clue the voting public into how he would perform as a public servant. He has yet to do this, so I'm left with Youtube videos such as this to clue me in:
Worst Presidential Candidate Supporters or Worst **Insert Candidate's Last Name** Nation: Ron Paul
Are people this tired of politics-as-usual that they'll get behind someone whose answer to everything is to revert back to the 1890's? Boy that Gilded Age, that's when shit was tight. Who needs the IRS? Or better yet, who needs the Department of Education? Oh, and another thing, Did you know that Ron Paul has NEVER voted for a tax or pay increase? Well, neither did Hitler.
There are many more categories I could go through, but I'm pretty sure you get the idea... Happy Happy New Year Everyone!
Best Album of 2007: "Not-a-surprise Division"-- Chase This Light, Jimmy Eat World
It isn't a surprise because they've done it so long. This kicks the crap out of their last album Futures, in terms of quality, and comes pretty close to Clarity in terms of overall cohesiveness. "Big Casino" is everything you'd expect out of the first single, "Carry You" bleeds emotion, "Gotta Be Somebody's Blues" haunts all the way, and "Here it Goes" is "Authority Song" Part Deux. If you like music with chords, you should check this out.
Best Book I read in 2007, but not necessarily released in 2007 -- High Fidelity, Nick Hornsby
Cited so often by everyone, that I've put off reading it for so long only because I thought I knew what it was about. After reading it, I realized I was partly right. There were about twelve lines I had heard verbatim from other sources. Every late 20th century post modern book on love owes their residual checks to this release. I'm pretty sure I echo the narrator four times in this post alone.
Best Random Dual Acquaintance of 200y: Barton's Pub, Bucky the Bartender
Bucky the Bartender is a forty two year old reformed drug user/two time NYC Marathon Runner who kept prodding my friend Kyle to slap his ass, ostensibly because he felt he looked younger than forty two, which he did. For someone who was drunk, he was sort of a dick to me. We left the bar as his twenty six year old girlfriend, who actually looked forty two, was ready to stab him with a shiv as she was made to drag him to his Jeep as rain continued to pour. Fast forward thirty six hours to a seemingly benign conversation with my father. Apparently his band has played Barton's Pub, and he's on a first name basis with Bucky the Bartender. Bucky also is married (to a different woman) with two kids. It is sealed when my father goes, "Yea, he has a Jeep." These types of things only happen in the wee early hours of the morning in northern-central NJ.
Best Album of 2007: "Left Field Division" -- The Black and White Album, The Hives
I'm more than a bit biased, but in an odd sort of way. If I ever had a band, I would want it to sound (and act) like the Hives. They are silly motherfuckers. And I sort of wish I wrote a song called "A GetTogether to Tear Apart." Their last album was awesome, but it came out at a time when my alcohol tolerance was such that three shots of raspberry vodka had me making ghetto beats from an empty towel roll (also known as 2004). Then they procrastinated for like two years, in which their only musical output was a well-played joint on Timbaland's vanity project, only to then shack up in Mississippi with Pharrell for the 3rd album. The results are staggering, considering the formula up to this point was: Pick three chords, pray they are in the same key, play them fast, and when in doubt, howl and add handclaps. Highly effective. All of a sudden, there's all this musical progression. "Try It Again" makes me want to do a Russian Vodka Dance. It will make you as well.
Worst Song of 2007 that is cited in Critics' Best of Lists: Lip Gloss, Lil' Mama
Critics have put this song on some pedestal, claiming it's simple beat-plus-vocals equals musical sparseness, which in turn equals impressiveness. I don't know what they are listening to: it's a song about fucking lip gloss. If you want a sparse musical landscape, listen to some fucking Dylan, not a fifteen year old spreading her legs in time with a drum fill.
Best Song that Didn't Get Enough Credit Because It Uses An Open Refrigerator as a Metaphor for a Failed Relationship: Sweet Escape, Gwen Stefani feat. Akon
Look, Gwen Stefani confuses me just as much she confuses you. I don't know why Japanese girls follow her around, and I'm not sure where exactly she buried the manhood of Gavin Rosdale (although I think this is the premise of National Treasure 2), but this song is great.
Best Television Show: The Office
Everyone and their mother have spoken the virtues of this show. This is partly the reason why it took me so long to give this a chance. I am an odd beast. If enough people tell me something is transcendent, I immediately begin to question the validity of these claims. I almost wrote the show off, mainly because the 1st season only has one REALLY funny part (Michael's Diversity Video) I then skipped to the 3rd season, because I watched the Season 2 finale on TBS, and was hooked. While not nearly as good as Arrested Development, it still has the high "quality joke per episode ratio" that no other current show has. The only downside is I now watch more network television than I ever have before in my life, and this has to converge with an unprecedented writer's strike.
Best Television Show that Rebounded After Jumping the Shark: Scrubs
The first four seasons of Scrubs is gold. Season 5 represents a large downturn. Janitor vs. J.D. and Dr. Cox Ranting no longer was as fresh as in seasons past. The Mandy Moore angle served no real purpose, and at around the time J.D. BOUGHT A FUCKING HOUSE, no wait, A PLOT OF LAND, even I couldn't defend it anymore. However, the few bright spots, including the fabulous "depressed Dr. Cox" storyline, kept me intrigued enough to give Season 6 and beyond a chance. Luckily, Season 6 and the beginning of Season 7 are far better. Anything with J.D. and Eliot is still a bit stale, and for all its hype, the musical episode is just okay, but the supporting cast, including Turk and Dr. Kelso, consistently bring it. Did I mention yet how much I hate the writer's strike? Oh, only briefly. Let me reiterate: I hate the strike.
Most Disappointing Album of 2007: Echoes, Silence, Patience, & Grace -- Foo Fighters
I can't believe I just typed that. This kills 90% of everything released this year, and seven tracks are solid. But this album contains way too much filler. Dave Grohl needs to stop wearing his classic rock influences on his sleeve, and just bring the rock (see The Pretender, Let It Die, Long Road to Ruin) and branch out only when it represents actual musical growth (see the Steely Dan inspired Statues). "Stranger Things Have Happened" and "Come Home" kill the flow of the album. "Summer's End" is forced 7o's rock, "Erase/Replace" builds up towards for a chorus that never comes, and the final track should have been cut completely, with the closing duties left to the "New Way Home"-ish "But, Honestly." I still love Dave Grohl, and I'm still a fan of this album, just not as much as previous material.
Best Television Channel: VH1
I'm as surprised as you, but the fact still remains: VH1 programming has consistently entertained me more than any other channel this past year. Scott Baio is 45 and Single, Rock of Love with Brett Michaels, Flavor of Love, I Love New York, The Pick Up Artist. I'm even not above watching recycled America's Next Top Model Seasons in their entirety. Judge me all you want, but when I'm bored, the first channel I click is 36 on my Time Warner Digital Cable Box.
Oddest Movie: The Waitress
I can't even describe how weird this movie is, I'm not going to try. Just rent it and watch as you get lulled into a false sense of being entertained, only to go after the credits begin to roll "What the hell just happened?"
Worst Commercial: Budweiser Commercials with Rob Riggle
Now, this is a little late, since I don't know if they premiered at the end of 2007 or the beginning of 2008, but they are awful. I just watched one where Rob Riggle was whoring the new and improved "Stay Fresh Cap" that "locks in freshness." What did Budweiser caps do before this? This is like building a car and then praising its ability to propel forward.
Most Overblown Report Written by a Former Congressman: The Mitchell Report
Note: I will be speaking for a bit in Baseball Nerd. If you are unfamiliar with this dialect, please skip to the next Award.
Wow, steroid use in baseball was rampant. Who would have ever imagined that? Pitchers were coming off Tommy John Surgery throwing five to seven miles an hour FASTER than when they had blew their arm out. Brady Anderson hits 51 HRs! I'm not even sure this bothers me. All it shows is that some superstars will do ANYTHING to stay at an optimal level of fitness, and to produce superstar numbers for as long as possible. It also shows that if you don't have natural ability, there is a 99% chance the only thing steroids will do is lower your sperm count and give you that unibrow all the girls go wild for. Oh, and as a Yankees fan, I don't want to hear about the preponderance of Yankees in the report. Since the two main sources were affiliated with New York teams, coupled with the constant bench player turnover, it makes sense that the Yankees would be over-represented. We had seven relevant players on our 2001 team that were taking enough human growth hormone to choke a musk ox, and we still lost the World Series. That's all I have to say, I'll be in the corner with a "Joba Rules" t-shirt pressed firmly in each ear as I hear about the "Curse of Human Growth Hormone" for the next six months.
Worst Presidential Candidate(s): Tie -- Mitt Romney and Mike Huckabee
I'll take on Mitt first. His "JFK Speech" where he basically said, "Christian Fundamentalists, who else are you going to vote for? That Slim Fast chugging Evangelical guy? The thrice married liberal mayor of 9/11 err New York City? I may be a Mormon, but I understand the need to whore myself out to the base of the Republican Party. I say now, let me be your religious zealot..." would have been a good tongue-in-cheek Daily Show spoof, if he wasn't being so dead fucking serious. Mike Huckabee proudly wears his evangelicism on his sleeve, which would have been a lot easier for him a few years, and a hundred and fifty pounds, ago. (Too soon?) He has "the moment" of the Republican debates, when he pwned the rest of the field on their collective and inane anti-immigration jingoism, but he also has curious stances, including the abolishment of the Internal Revenue Service, and the belief that "politics are totally directed by worldview. That's why when people say, 'We ought to separate politics from religion,' I say to separate the two is absolutely impossible." This creates a whole host of problems, but I would like to stick with the positives. The main positive about this stance is that if he truly does believe in the integration of religion into politics, Huckabee would be in complete favor of providing transcripts of his sermons (in an effort of full disclosure) given as the head of his Baptist congregation, since they would hypothetically clue the voting public into how he would perform as a public servant. He has yet to do this, so I'm left with Youtube videos such as this to clue me in:
Worst Presidential Candidate Supporters or Worst **Insert Candidate's Last Name** Nation: Ron Paul
Are people this tired of politics-as-usual that they'll get behind someone whose answer to everything is to revert back to the 1890's? Boy that Gilded Age, that's when shit was tight. Who needs the IRS? Or better yet, who needs the Department of Education? Oh, and another thing, Did you know that Ron Paul has NEVER voted for a tax or pay increase? Well, neither did Hitler.
There are many more categories I could go through, but I'm pretty sure you get the idea... Happy Happy New Year Everyone!
Monday, December 24, 2007
Watch out Blogosphere
Why start a blog?
A Fair question, padawan. It seems that any schmuck able to create a google.com account can get one of these things. And it grants you a greater amount of legitimacy, you know, because I can type an email account into a box. People have lost so much faith in actual forms of media, that they will fumble blindly in the dark, possibly to the point that they'll google the title and read the contents of some blog that ANYONE could have written. I totally had the wrong idea. I thought I had to get an extra two years of schooling to get that type of legitimacy. I should instead just write 2-3 inflammatory things a day, and hope enough other people will link from their blog to my blog. I should have gotten in on this perverse literary pyramid scheme YEARS ago. Also, I was sort of pissed Facebook Notes didn't have a toolbar to format text. NOTE: I know it did, but it was shitty html language. I actually have a life. I can't be bothered with all these bullshit. Before this, I didn't even know what those things meant. And I know everything about everything.
Wait, by "Why start a blog?" I actually meant "Why are you such a tool?"
I know, I know. Only douchebags have blogs. Fair point. My only defense is: Look at what I did before this. I was posting it on Facebook. It was a flawed premise from the start. People use Facebook for high school boobage and to inflame latent stalker tendencies, not to read about Paris Hilton. Now it's on simply the internet, and we all know no one uses that for those purposes.
Hey, I like your post about -insert topic-, but didn't you know -insert blogger, writer, musician, actor, model- already does this, and it's better than yours?
I can't answer this with an impassioned defense involving relativism and how writing is art, and therefore, there can be no way to say someone else is doing anything better than me. I'm pretty sure anyone who argues for relativism in writing is simply a shitty writer with a small wang. (Note: Might not be the Webster's Dictionary Definition). I can only say that you are probably wrong, and that whatever I write will probably be better than 99.9% of what is already available for mass consumption on the web. That last sentence was so good it just broke the sound barrier.
Will you be this sarcastic in every single post?
Sarcasm is the only weapon of mass destruction I can use with any type of effectiveness. Expect it often, coupled with irony (which I only use with the effectiveness of a homemade dirty bomb: the title... hello?) every now and again.
A Fair question, padawan. It seems that any schmuck able to create a google.com account can get one of these things. And it grants you a greater amount of legitimacy, you know, because I can type an email account into a box. People have lost so much faith in actual forms of media, that they will fumble blindly in the dark, possibly to the point that they'll google the title and read the contents of some blog that ANYONE could have written. I totally had the wrong idea. I thought I had to get an extra two years of schooling to get that type of legitimacy. I should instead just write 2-3 inflammatory things a day, and hope enough other people will link from their blog to my blog. I should have gotten in on this perverse literary pyramid scheme YEARS ago. Also, I was sort of pissed Facebook Notes didn't have a toolbar to format text. NOTE: I know it did, but it was shitty html language. I actually have a life. I can't be bothered with all these bullshit. Before this, I didn't even know what those things meant. And I know everything about everything.
Wait, by "Why start a blog?" I actually meant "Why are you such a tool?"
I know, I know. Only douchebags have blogs. Fair point. My only defense is: Look at what I did before this. I was posting it on Facebook. It was a flawed premise from the start. People use Facebook for high school boobage and to inflame latent stalker tendencies, not to read about Paris Hilton. Now it's on simply the internet, and we all know no one uses that for those purposes.
Hey, I like your post about -insert topic-, but didn't you know -insert blogger, writer, musician, actor, model- already does this, and it's better than yours?
I can't answer this with an impassioned defense involving relativism and how writing is art, and therefore, there can be no way to say someone else is doing anything better than me. I'm pretty sure anyone who argues for relativism in writing is simply a shitty writer with a small wang. (Note: Might not be the Webster's Dictionary Definition). I can only say that you are probably wrong, and that whatever I write will probably be better than 99.9% of what is already available for mass consumption on the web. That last sentence was so good it just broke the sound barrier.
Will you be this sarcastic in every single post?
Sarcasm is the only weapon of mass destruction I can use with any type of effectiveness. Expect it often, coupled with irony (which I only use with the effectiveness of a homemade dirty bomb: the title... hello?) every now and again.
What does the title of your blog mean?
Nothing. I sort of liked the fact that it rhymed, and I liked the alliteration. In fact, I become aroused sexually every time anyone uses the same letter sound three times in a row. So I was just really being a typical guy. Plus, I thought I would give out "year-end" awards to people I hated, and call them hippies, which I found hilarious, but soon realized was just probably lame. Plus Plus, I've lived the last eighteen months of my life in an area where everyone is either an eighteen year old freshman acting way too cool for their britches, or they are a forty five year old zuccinni salesman acting way too cool for their britches. Either way, the one main thing I learned is that everyone is cooler than me, and I couldn't fucking care less.
You couldn't care less? You're writing a fucking blog about it...
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