Mar 22, 2003

Ted Rall's American Dreams


Michele first posted Ted Rall's cartoon from 3/20/2003, which displayed all the insight and wit I've come to expect from him. NC from Carthaginian Peace had his own take on it.

Using that strip as a springboard, here's what I imagine a typical morning must be like for Ted:



(picture is clickable)

And then I stumbled across this promo ad clipping, the only surviving image from a little-known 1985 IBC (Iraqi Broadcasting Company) prime-time television pilot*:










*and if you believe that is a real ad instead of a Parody, please log off the internet and hold your white flag high in the air. American troops will soon be around with the Surrender Bus to take you to a nice holding station - where you will no longer have to worry about being castrated for criticizing your former leader. Plus there's cake and punch .

Mar 20, 2003

This Possum Is Making A Difference



Okay, so I lied. I ran across something today that was so cataclysmically stupid it changed my mind. Besides, if I totally forgo mentioning the war, I won't be able to do the live Academy Awards play-by-play I have planned.

I read a couple of articles today concerning the planned civil disobedience protests once the war starts. Since they all tell pretty much the same stories, I'll just use this one, from ABCNEWS.com, as an example:
In Portsmouth, N.H., protesters plan to make noise by banging pots and pans.
Coming soon to HBO: Emmett Otter's Jug Band Protest.
Many groups plan to carry out die-ins, where activists lie on the ground to symbolize war victims and to block passers-by.
I heard another version of this, where at a specific agreed-upon time, people would stop what they were doing and just fall to the ground, motionless. I can say with all certainty that if the anti-war folks dining at the Golden Corral breakfast buffet down my street do that, blocking the local yokels from slopping up another plate full of biscuits 'n' gravy...those senior citizens are gonna do an early-bird stomp all over you. And if I am present for one of these occasions when someone chooses to make like a Hognose Snake, I will not be responsible for the involuntary flurry of Don Rickles style insults at your expense.
Four others were were arrested in Lansing, N.Y., on Monday on charges of trespassing at a military recruiting station. During the protest, about 20 people splattered what they said was their own blood onto recruiting station walls and windows and an American flag.
And what purpose did this serve, exactly? Did you think it would be like the Red Cross, where you'd be rewarded with some cookies and orange juice afterwards? No, when you drain your bodily fluids into a scrub bucket and splash them all over a military recruiting station...you just get your head repeatedly lumped all up while you're lying there wishing you had left enough blood inside so you wouldn't be too weak to ward off the blows. Next thing you know you're standing there all bruised and swollen, spraying off the side of the building with a garden hose while enraged recruiting officers stand behind you tapping nightsticks into their palms. Really, if you have the uncontrollable urge to spill your own blood inside an armed services recruiting station, you can just skip all those extra steps by walking directly inside and screaming "YOU BUNCH OF PUSSIES!" as loud as you can. You'll be bleeding in no time!
In Seattle, envelopes with white powder and anti-war messages were left at six locations Monday, including a post office that was evacuated. The powder turned out to be farina, a type of ground wheat used in cereal, officials said.
"Welcome to the penitentiary! This fellow's name is Harlan, and he'll be your Neo-Nazi Skinhead cellmate for the duration of your vacation! I'd suggest you make an effort to keep that peace symbol tattoo covered at all times! When he asks what you're in for, I'd suggest you lie your ass off and tell him you murdered someone! Otherwise, he's going to bend you over this uncomfortably thin mattress, brand you with his contraband Zippo, and shove his smelly manhood so far inside it'll collapse your lungs! You know, he's probably going to do that anyway, so forget what I said! Just go with it and have fun! Sweet dreams, and we'll see you at breakfast - we're having Cream Of Wheat!"
In San Francisco, activists shrouded themselves in body bags Monday in front of the British consulate, chanting "no killing civilians in our name."
What they don't tell you about here is all the passing out because everyone had their bags completely zipped up.
San Francisco anti-war groups have laid out similar plans on a larger scale for the outbreak of war, including blocking traffic and an effort to shut down the Pacific Stock Exchange and some high-profile commercial buildings.

"The bare bones of the plan is to basically shut down the financial district of San Francisco. The way we see it is that we basically unplug the system that creates war," said Patrick Reinsborough, an organizer.
"The bare bones of the plan is to basically fire taser weapons directly into the crowd blocking traffic. The way we see it is that we basically unplug the central nervous system that creates muscle control," said Brick Hammerjackson, a burly policeman.
Some groups are focusing on defense-related sites. Protesters plan to block traffic at Buckley Air Force Base in Aurora, Colo., and sit in at the gates of Truax Field in Madison, Wis., which houses state guardsmen.
And tear gas canisters. And vomit-inducing stink bombs. And crowd-dispersing concussive grenades. And rubber bullets. And a lot of those rib-busting beanbag guns. And maybe even a few of those 'wall of eardrum-piercing high-decibel sound' systems. And, if the budget permits, one of those experimental microwave cannons which can target a single screaming moron standing behind a megaphone, pulsing an intense wave of heat in his or her direction and causing immediate unconsciousness right in the middle of their 5674th "No Blood For Oil!" chant.
In Baltimore, anti-war protesters say they will wash off an American flag splashed with red paint and oil to symbolize the blood that could be shed in a possible war in the Middle East.
Do you think this will be the next Tide Ultra commercial? "Tide Ultra - gets out blood AND oil, now with new 'peace in our time' enzymes! Safe for colourfast washable flags!"
Some anti-war activists say their efforts will demonstrate support for American soldiers, because the best way to help them is to bring them home.
And the best way to bring them home is by sitting on the floor of a holding cell in a puddle of your own blood, piss, and vomit, as the crowd control chemicals wear off?


As much as I rag these morons, I don't want to see any of them get hurt. I've heard some rumblings around town (out of UNCW, Wilmington's a big college town) about staging the 'bicycle traffic-blocking' protest, and I'd really advise anyone local not to participate. Protest all you want in your own space - wear the T-shirts and carry the banners, stick a big sign in your front yard, gather up a candle-burning chant group at the waterfront downtown, play all your Cat Stevens CD's at maximum volume, fingerpaint a peace symbol on your face in your own blood...but stay out of traffic. Seriously. A lot of the college teens around here are from out of state, and they don't know Wilmington like I do. The locals already drive around in a perpetual fury over the traffic situation. If you're doing figure eights in the middle of an intersection on your Earth Cruiser, one of these irrational rawbone rednecks is liable to run your ass right over and not give a good goddamn about doing it. Not because you're pissing him off over the war, but because you're keeping him from that after-work Budweiser at Smitty's on the Carolina Beach boardwalk. Do what you feel you must to make your statement, but you're gonna feel pretty silly about it when you're blowing into that little plastic tube to make the wheelchair move.

By all means, though, do the Stop, Drop, And Fake Death thing! I really need the heckling practice!


Here in the complex, two college girls posted a sign in their ground-level apartment window: "Fighting for peace is like fucking for virginity."

Someone dimed them out over it to the assistant property manager, so she called them and told them to take it down. From what I heard, they immediately launched into 'free speech' mode, until the asst. manager told them they were breaking the terms of their lease and they'd be evicted if they didn't remove it. Now, in the lease you sign when you first move in, it states clearly that you're not supposed to put a bunch of crap in your windows, on your door, or out in the hallway. If they wanted, they could even tell people not to put foot mats in front of their doors. That's not why she told them to take it down, though. I heard they grudgingly took it down, but acted like their rights were violated.

So, I will now take this opportunity to relay to you what I would have said to those two girls if I were the asst. manager, swiping a line from the movie Planes, Trains, And Automobiles and paraphrasing it so as to make it precisely clear to them why they had to take it down:

ASSISTANT MANAGER: "You took a fucking piece of paper and fucking ran it through your fucking computer's fucking printer, then you fucking taped that fucking sign to your fucking window, where every fucking kid who fucking walks by can fucking see it. Now, you fucking better take that fucking sign down right fucking now, or..."

SPOILED, HUFFY LITTLE COLLEGE GIRL: "Or what?"

ASSISTANT MANAGER: "You're fucked."

Anyway, all this fresh stupidity gave me one last idea for a new piece of Protest Clip Art:



Mar 19, 2003

Notes From The Homefront


Okay, this might be the last time I talk about anything having to do with the upcoming war (because I think we all know the Butcher From Baghdad isn't going anywhere, except Hell shortly). It's pointless to argue now - and always has been, really. Everyone already has their mind made up one way or another by this point, and most folks had theirs made up from moment one. I'll try to stick to the groanworthy gag stuff from now on; other bloggers express themselves more eloquently than I ever could in regards to world events, anyway. Plus, hurt feelings and all that other bullshit, yadda-yadda. Although I'm still not going to take back what I said yesterday. Hey, you want to insinuate I'm some kind of sheep or Nazi just because I take a different stance on this issue, then be prepared to have that same bile spewed right back at you.

1. Michele has a little photoshop contest going on right now, using a piece of clip art her sister found tucked inside a Clip Art CD Collection today. She's already posted one of mine, but I thought of another:



Well, that's probably what most people are thinking while they're standing around at one of those things. Anyway, you should go check out the other ribticklin' (wait - did I just use the word ribticklin'? What's wrong with me?) entries on her blog, in handy-dandy (handy-dandy?!?! Christ, I can't stop!) clickable form below:

START

NEXT, GO HERE

AND HERE

THEN FOLLOW ALL THE LINKS HERE

HERE'S ANOTHER

LAST BUT NOT LEAST

And that's all there are as of this writing.

2. Okay, about this whole Dixie Chicks thing: I know you're all clinging to the edges of your seats waiting for my expert commentary and razor-edged wit here (that's sarcasm, not egotism, by the way), but I really don't have a lot to say about it. Jim Treacher has a post today which pretty much sums up my feelings as well.

Well, okay, I do have a small point to make here. I've been thinking about it, and to be truthful I don't really have a problem with what they said. It's a rather mild insult/statement compared to what some celebrities (yeah, I'm talking to you Chrissie Hynde, you insane dried-up old piece of beef jerky) have stated recently, and there's no law against disliking the President. I was pretty vocally ashamed of Clinton throughout the latter half of his second term, so it would be rather hypocritical of me to say someone else can't say the same things. BUT - they said it during a concert people paid to see. That's a captive audience, and I think it was pretty stupid of Natalie Maines, picking that particular moment in which to share her feelings. I'm sure not everyone in that crowd shared her sentiments, yet they were forced to hear them, just as everyone at that Pretenders concert was forced to listen to Hynde's cockdribble rant. No one paid to hear Natalie's opinion on current events, and I'm sure it wasn't printed on the ticket anywhere: Dixie Chicks Live In Concert - Plus Bonus Political Discussion! It's Like Meet The Press, Only With Fiddle-Scratchin' Bleach Blondes Wearing Too Much Eyeshadow! No, people just paid to hear The Dixie Chicks play their Shit-Kickin' Tunes, and watch their ass cheeks jiggle around while they did the Boot-Scoot Boogie, or whatever the hell it is that they do. It's one thing to say such things during an interview you can skim past in a magazine or flip the channel to avoid; it's an entirely different thing when it's done at a concert which has absolutely nothing to do with politics (except maybe the politics of tobacco juice spitting).

My prediction here: It'll be a year or so before the next Dixie Chicks album is released, and by then all of this will have blown over. Those radio stations breaking and burning all their Dixie Chicks CD's right now will have long since had replacement copies sent to them from the label, and will be regularly playing their tunes again - no matter what they're saying or threatening right now. The simple fact of the matter is this, in regards to all these radio station boycotts: All Sony Music has to say is "So, you're not playing the Dixie Chicks anymore? Well, fine. You're not allowed to play music from any of our artists, then." Don't think they won't do it, either - they have too much money tied up in The Dixie Chicks to fuck around with a bunch of overreacting Station Managers. Music Companies dictate what a station can or can't play from their library, not the other way around. And the stations will cave, because if you're not allowed to play the music people want to hear, your station will close down in short fashion, and your Deejays are back to emceeing hogcalling contests on the weekends. There is NO such thing as 'Radio Station Loyalty' among listeners anymore, not with the wide music choices available elsewhere nowadays. Sony holds every ace in the deck in this situation.

But, hey - if you're still bound and determined to do away with your own Dixie Chicks CD collection, I'd like you to at least consider my previous suggestion instead of just destroying your albums.

Okay, enough war-related crap.

URGENT REMINDER


Survivor has switched nights this week, and will be shown on Wednesday night at 8 p.m. (Eastern time). Just thought I'd pass that along for those of you who've been watching, but might be unaware of the switch.


Mar 18, 2003

Enablers





I've seen the above on several message boards today, even received it a couple of times via email. It's probably on thousands of blogs as well, your local hivemind at work - I don't know, I haven't been reading the blogs much today. I do know that that picture is the single biggest load of Horseshit quote/meme currently being bandied around the Internet, and is an insult to any living person who survived the Nazi atrocities.

Where's the quote for Saddam, and all the barbaric actions he's taken against his people in the past? Oh, THAT'S okay with this bunch, eh? Seeing as how it isn't our business to meddle in another country's affairs?

Applying this thought directly to the above quote: It's a good thing the majority of the U.S. didn't listen to people like this back then (and there were a great deal of people using this exact brand of rhetoric, do the research if you don't believe me). Using their logic, we never should have gotten involved in the European side of WWII (after all, Hitler never once attacked US soil, right?). That quote is from a CAPTURED NAZI - you know, the Nazis we had to go to WAR with in order to bring them to the Nuremberg Trials where this quote was transcribed? If the American Government had listened to what they're insinuating by this quote, Goering and his bunch would have gone right on about their business of blissfully exterminating Jews and conquering the whole of Europe - and because they hadn't attacked our US homeland yet, we never would have gotten involved.

It'll be interesting to see the spin, conspiracy theories, and propaganda coming from the protest bunch as the first footage of Iraqi citizens flooding the streets post-war roll in, when they're embracing the soldiers and thanking them for getting rid of the despot; or, when the evidence surfaces about all the chemical weapons and other resolution-breaking missiles Hussein and his happy gang had carefully concealed all this time. I can hear it already:

"Those soldiers FORCED the Iraqi women and children to hug them at gunpoint, the fascists!"

"Those chemical and biological weapons were PLANTED there after the fact by the US military, those despicable Nazis!"

It's fitting they're using a Nazi quote, considering how that group has proven to be just as adept at propaganda, rhetoric, and spin as Goebbels ever was.

TRUTH COMES OUT

There are now reports that Saddam is arming his soldiers with chemical and biological weapons to use on US troops. You know, the weapons he's been claiming all along he didn't have, and which completely blow any and every U.N. resolution made against him these past twelve years wide open, providing full justification for what we're about to do? You can straight up kiss my ass all up in the crack, you dickheads who keep slinging around the Nazi quotes; all along you've chosen to embolden, empower, and enable a despot with your protests, a despot who spit in the world's face at every chance he was given - and a despot who is now preparing to unleash those 'nonexistent' weapons (which you also chose to believe he didn't have) on our servicemen and women. You people (in this country and others) chose all along to believe the words of this madman who murders his own people by the score and is soon to become a proven liar (regarding the chemical and biological weapons of mass destruction issue, among others), over the words of your own countrymen and allies. After hearing those reports I hate your fucking guts right now, every single one of you. If you're one of the people using that Goering quote, and I'm on your blogroll or whatever, go ahead and de-link me if my statements offend you; I don't really give a shit anymore. You're callous idiots, and you sicken me. It's probably for the best best that I stick to my own blog for a while, before I say something in someone's comments section I truly regret later.

You love to throw around words like 'Nazi' and 'Right-Winger' to somehow brand those you disagree with, and that's a 'McCarthyesque' tactic if I ever saw one. Just replace the words 'Red' and 'Commie' with 'Nazi' and 'Right-Winger', and it's McCarthy 2003 from this bunch. I'll bet old Joe is down in Hell somewhere right now smiling up at them. Well, at least until it blows up in your smug little faces over the next few weeks.


Mar 16, 2003

SURVIVOR: SCAMAZON part 3


If you are just arriving and would like to catch up on previous recaps, you can find the first part here, and the second part here.

DAY 13

JABBERJAWS TRIBE:

Powerdyke gloats over Holy Steamroller's exit last episode, calling herself 'Alpha Female, Top Dog'. She forgot to add 'Kiki' (look it up) and 'Sergeant' (likewise). Executive Annoyance fails to catch on to the ARTIFICIAL BOOBIE ALLIANCE conspiracy arounD her, and puzzles over why all the rest of the girls would kick out the tribes strongest member. Ms. Frizz tearfully complains about not being kicked out last Tribal Council, while Executive Annoyance makes gag faces behind her back. Power Dyke grins, her Alpha Dog position secure in her mind.

TOMMYBOY TRIBE:

While trying to hack his way through a tree limb for no apparent reason, Whizzer instead chops into his forehead with the rusted machete he'd been using. All the fellas 'oooh' and 'aaahhh' over the wound, clipping it shut with a Butterfly bandage and telling Whizzer it 'looks cool'. And it does indeed, if by 'cool' they meant 'extremely dorky'.

JABBERJAWS:

The gals have a Pow Wow, wherein Executive Annoyance accuses Power Dyke of talking smack behind her back. Power Dyke puts the blame on the deaf girl, of course. Executive Annoyance finally begins to realize she is marked like the chick in The Scarlet Letter. Power Dyke finds this all amusing to the utmost, chuckling into the camera and displaying some of those 'Alpha Female Dog' tendencies.

TOMMYBOY:

The boys get a letter, inviting the youngest member of each tribe to a cross-tribal 'date' filled with 'wine and laughter'. Magic Goof Ball whines about not being able to partake of the wine and laughter, visibly jealous of Gung Whoa (the youngest Tommyboy). At least he has that Eight Ball to keep him company.

JABBERJAWS:

Stupormodel is the youngest here, and skanks all up in the camera making vague complaints about having to do something that might actually require a physical effort.

THE DATE

Gung Who and Stupormodel easily paddle straight to their destination (I'd like to see the outtakes there), a Jungle Bungalo. Jeff recaps the 'boy versus girl' situation for the benefit of the stupid, then leaves. Gung Whoa and Stupormodel find mounds of food, fresh clothing, outdoor showers, and matching zippered leather facemasks. Stupormodel gushes to the camera about all the hospitality, using the word 'like' approximately 8563 times. Stupormodel and Gung Who share a 'Colt .45 Works Every Time' moment over Malt Liquor and Pork Rinds (or whatever the hell they were eating). Stupormodel spills the beans about Ms. Frizz's hostage situation to Gung Whoa, not realizing she is DINING WITH THE ENEMY. She also uses the term 'rilly-rilly' when speaking of Heidi-Ho: "We've grown, like, rilly-rilly close." Gung Whoa nods and makes mental notes as he gets Stupormodel to confess who Jabberjaws is planning to kick out next (Executive Annoyance). I just noticed Stupormodel HAS A FUCKING TATTOO ON THE TOP OF HER FOOT. Gung Whoa confesses that all the Tommyboy guys talk about Stupormodel's ass, then a close-up is shown of her digging around in it. Trying to find that gold nugget she evidently thinks is hidden there, I suppose. As night falls, Gung Whoa nearly squirts in his shorts when he sees Stupormodel taking a shower behind the translucent bamboo curtain (?). Gung Whoa climbs into bed after his own shower and warns Stupormodel that he might have a nocturnal spasm or two. "I twitch before I fall asleep", he says, to cover the certain pre-sleep masturbatory ritual he's about to partake in.

DAY 14

Stupormodel and Gung Whoa rise to a continental breakfast, complete with crawling vermin.

THE BIG SURPRISE TWIST



Jeff shows up carrying a large clay pot and a woven mat. He tells the pair to sit at the table. Stupormodel, demonstrating an almost telepathic amount of foresight, says: "He said take a seat at the table, and I was like, oh man, this isn't even over yet." Jeff tells them the real reason they were brought together, and that is:

To pick new tribes - boy-girl.

Jeff dumps the tiles marked with everyone's name in front of the two, then tells Gung Whoa to pick a girl. Using the stored info Stupormodel blabbed to him, Gung Whoa snatches up Heidi-ho. Stupormodel picks Whizzer, sweating over being such an open book the previous night. Gung Whoa picks Mr. Weatherbee next, and Stupormodel picks Power Dyke. Gung Who picks Children Of A Lesser Gripe, Stupormodel picks Magic Goof Ball. Gung Whoa picks Massah Massengill, Stupormodel picks Ms. Frizz. Executive Annoyance then goes to Gung Whoa, and last of all Skeletor goes to Stupormodel. Again, Stupormodel's psychic awareness kicks in as she says: "It's like the game started over; it's, like, a brand new game!"

The final tribes (until the merger) now consist of the following members:

TOMMYBOY: Gung Whoa, Heidi-Ho, Mr. Weatherbee, Children Of A Lesser Gripe, Massah Massengill, Executive Annoyance.

JABBERJAWS: Stupormodel, Whizzer, Power Dyke, Magic Goof Ball, Ms. Frizz, Skeletor.

The two are then given the task of paddling back to their respective tribes and informing the members of the switch.

TOMMYBOY:

Gung Whoa arrives, telling the fellas of the swap as if it were a Command Decision on his part. Why the hell didn't he just say "We got screwed" or "It wasn't my fault"? Because that wouldn't have been 'responsible'. Magic Goof Ball is pissed, telling the camera "he doesn't have my best interests at heart." Well, NO SHIT. Isn't that kind of the point of the game, Idiot? There is no reaction from Whizzer or Skeletor to the news.

JABBERJAWS:

Heidi-Ho is devastated by the news, seeing all her machinations swirl down the toilet. Executive Annoyance, on the other hand, is overjoyed. She feels her neck has been removed from the guillotine, at least temporarily. Children Of A Lesser Gripe doesn't seem to give much of a shit either way.

TOMMYBOY:

Heidi-Ho, Executive Annoyance, and Children Of A Lesser Gripe arrive at their new tribe to rounds of applause, backslapping, hugging, and the heavy air of insincerity. Children Of A Lesser Gripe informs the guys that she is of the non-hearing variety, much to their surprise. Massah Massengill gives her props for lasting this long, then massages his swollen hemorrhoids through the fabric of his shorts. Executive Annoyance loves her new tribe, happily praising them.

JABBERJAWS:

Whizzer, Skeletor, and Magic Goof Ball arrive to a a joyously lethargic reaction from the girls. Ms. Frizz sullenly drags her anemic carcass off the ground, shlumping her way over to the group. Then she spots the guys. A smile suddenly splits across her face and she becomes wildly animated, clapping and laughing, hugging and chattering away like an old Alvin And The Chipmunks record. It seems her energy and interest in the game has been both invigorated and rekindled by the addition of an ingredient which previously had been crucially lacking from her tribe - PENIS. Magic Goof Ball tells the camera that the surest way Ms. Frizz and Stupormodel can insulate themselves from his vote is to remain buck naked at all times.

TOMMYBOY:

Nightfall. Children Of A Lesser Grip praises the men for keeping the camp well lit so that she can see everyone's face as they speak. She takes a shot at the former all-girl JABBERJAWS girls for failing to do so in the past. Heidi-Ho adopts an indignant attitude at the remark, proving nothing causes indignant response quite so much as the truth.

DAY 15

JABBERJAWS:

Whizzer tells the girls that all the guys on the old TOMMYBOY tribe voted Ms. Frizz 'Girl I'd Most Like To Screw'. Actually, they said 'hottest', but same thing. Oh, they forgot 'most whiny', but then again I guess they never got to see that. Ms. Frizz's ego is stroked to insane levels by this news, and she tells the camera (referring to Whizzer) "I dig him SOOOOOOOOO much". She also has some sort of Stevie Wonder thing going on with her hair now. Power Dyke feels her power has been usurped by the Testicle Squad, and fears Ms. Frizz might turn on her forced pact with THE ARTIFICIAL BOOBIE ALLIANCE.

TOMMYBOY

The tribe receives their Immunity Challenge mail, something to do with rowing and a word jumble. Massah Massengill compliments Gung Whoa's choices of strapping young women (feeling they have a good shot at immunity), then gives himself a high colonic.

IMMUNITY CHALLENGE

The two teams discuss the switch with Jeff, and Whizzer enthuses over his new tribe. The dick-crazed Ms. Frizz CANNOT STOP SMILING AT HIM, NOT EVEN FOR A SECOND.

The two tribes must each solve a Crossword Puzzle, then row a boat around collecting flags bearing symbols of the words they just solved. First tribe back with all the correct flags wins. JABBERJAWS easily solves the puzzle, with TOMMYBOY lingering behind in a debate over whether 'mosquito' is spelled with one 'T' or twelve. JABBERJAWS has a wide lead, but TOMMYBOY makes a comeback, only to fall short the last few strokes. JABBERJAWS wins the race with a minute to spare.

TOMMYBOY:

Arriving back at camp, Executive Annoyance states the tribe has "no idea how to vote". I guess she hasn't been paying attention. She is somehow working under the notion that the three girls are going to stick together, as will the three guys, and it will all come down to a tiebreaker. Heidi-Ho wants Gung Whoa voted off last, because "he picked us. He must have seen something in us." Oh, please. She wants him to stay because the other two are old men. The girls draw straws between Butch and Roger, with Butch's stick being the more flaccid of the two. Executive Annoyance "figures that's what they'll do, too." Gung Whoa pulls Heidi-Ho aside at the first opportunity and informs her that she's the 'chosen one' among the guys to be carried over to the merger, trying to coerce her into shifting her vote to the guy's side. He tells her the voting order is as follows: Executive Annoyance, Children Of A Lesser Gripe, and then her. Heidi-Ho expresses her discomfort at being placed in such a position, even though she has never had a moment's trouble forming secret alliances in the past.


TRIBAL COUNCIL

Executive Annoyance is happy as a clam during the pre-vote discussion, pleased with her new male teammates even though she plans on voting one of them off. Children Of A Lesser Gripe again praises the fellow's treatment of her over the women, even though she plans on voting one of them off over the women she felt mistreated her. Everyone pretty much lies their asses off in regards to how they're going to vote. The vote is taken, counted, and:

THE TRIBE HAS SPOKEN: Executive Annoyance has been downsized from the tribe due to Heidi-Ho's switcheroo vote against her. During her farewell speech to the camera she says "I didn't want to lie or cheat, and I guess that's what you have to be. Good Luck to them, because in the game of life I am the winner." She selectively left out the fact that forming alliances and accusing someone of smuggling granola bars without proper evidence (as she did in the second episode) is BOTH lying AND cheating. Executive Annoyance, in the game of Survivor, you are the LOSER.


Mar 15, 2003

Everyone's already done this, but


Which Humor
Troubles the Disposition of YOUR Body?



I am so full of semen I slosh when play with myself. Thanks to Andrea and Solonor for the link.

More stuff later today. Been busy, and didn't get the chance to watch Survivor until last night.

Mar 11, 2003

The Dork Speaks

Michele had a really innovative way of interviewing me, and has posted the results here. I offer no excuses for my behavior during the interview, both real or imagined; suffice it to say that I will reconsider any further experimentation with Diesel fuel and oxygen masks.

Will The Feathered And Feline Fiends Finally
Fabricate Failure For Our Fearless Friends?



"Holy Feelings Of Inadequacy, Batman!"


When I was wee, it was all about Batman. Batman Mego Dolls, Batman Frisbees, Batman Shrinky-Dinks, Collegeville Batman Halloween Costumes. I adored the TV show, moreso than the live-action The Incredible Hulk or Amazing Spider-man television shows which were current at the time (although I adored Spider-man, and would eventually shift all interest to the character). I know it's fashionable now to sneer at it, what with all the Batman films changing the tone, and the Grim 'N' Gritty version of the character taking center stage in recent years. For me, though, there's never been another live-action superhero TV show or film which has been as faithful at duplicating the source material from the comics. Read a Batman comic from the time period, and almost everything you'll see there is replicated on the television screen (within the budget of the show).

Three instances from my own life which incorporated Batman TV show elements:

1. My friends and I came up with a Batprank during final exams in my Sophomore year of High School. After our last exam, Chad, Rick, and I were going to dress up like Batman, Robin, and The Joker (from the TV show, the movie wasn't out yet back then). Chad would be Batman, Rick was to play Robin, and I was going to be the Joker. We were going to meet up and run through the hallways of our High School reenacting scenes from the show and causing chaos (most Teachers left their doors open). Yes, if we'd been caught we probably would have received severe punishment for disrupting exams; and yes, we realized this would most likely eliminate any chance that a girl would be willing to touch us throughout the rest of our High School careers. We just didn't care. Now, I took my last exam before either of them, so i went down to The Drama Room and got into character. I'd picked out a calf-length orange velvet overcoat (1800s style), purple 1970s bell-bottom slacks, and black platform boots from the costume closet. I was wearing a Hawaiian Shirt with little cartoon skulls all over it. I took a pink Lei from the prop closet and twisted it up to make a tie. I was The Joker as played by Elton John. I spent about an hour applying makeup (there was no green haircolor so I just combed green cream makeup through my hair), then sat and waited for my friends to show up. And waited. And waited. And waited. Just to mix it up a bit, I waited some more. Now, during all of this Drama Teacher Mr. Foss is giving his other students their exams (everyone had to do a 2-minute monologue), and they're all staring at me the whole time they take it. When they were done some of them asked me to act out scenes from the show, so I did what I could recall. Foss looks my way at one point and says "It'll never work. They'll think you're weird". He actually thought I did this to try and pick up drama chicks. Anyway, turned out that Chad couldn't find a Batman costume, and Rick had never seriously planned to do it in the first place.

2. In my Senior year of High School I was cast in an Old-Fashioned Melodrama which we were going to tour around and perform for all the grade schools in the area. I had the part of the lead female character's brother, who had infiltrated the villain's home by posing as a Peter Lorre type Butler. When no one else was around, however, he became Stalwart Hero. I played the character like Burt Ward as Robin, down to the way I stood and punched my hands together. The kids ate it up, which was unusual because kids are normally bored stiff when they have to suffer through a play. I had a blast.

3. As I've written about before, I was manager of a Comic Book/Collectibles store for a few years in the 90s. When the premiere of Batman Returns was rolling around back in 1992, I talked the owner of the store into doing a tie-in promotion with one of the local radio stations - for a mere $400, we'd get an on-location radio remote spot, 15 pairs of giveaway tickets to the premiere, and a week's worth of radio spots for our store. It was a pretty good deal, although I didn't count on what happened - people just showed up to get the free tickets, and didn't buy anything (even though I'd stayed up almost all night the day before gettting the store organized and packaging special deals for display). I did, however, get to write the copy (or 'script') for the radio ad, and I was pretty proud of it at the time. It centered on the television versions of Catwoman and The Penguin, with the two discussing a diabolical plan to trap the Dynamic Duo inside Memory Lane Comics. The Batman TV show theme played in the background as they cackled, with Catwoman saying it was the Purrrrfect Plan and Penguin calling Robin The Boy Hostage (stole that from Frank Miller). The voice actors doing the roles (two of the regular deejays) were spot on; and the chick doing Catwoman gave you a tentpole with the way she wrapped her tongue around the RRrrrrrs. They even got a guy who sounded exactly like the narrator from the TV show. I think I still have the tape in one of the boxes stored over at my folk's house; if I can get over there this week that radio spot I will use it as my free Audioblogger post and let everyone hear for themselves. Oh, that big red title above? It's a 'narrator' line from the ad 'script' I wrote.

The Actual Review


I was really looking forward to Return To The Batcave this Sunday. I figured it would be awful (and I was not disappointed in that respect), but awful in a thoroughly enjoyable way. I was half right.

PLOT: The 'flashbacks' to the behind-the-scenes filming of the television show are framed by the Modern Day Adam West and Burt Ward working together to solve a mystery. Said mystery being the theft of the original Batmobile from a Charity Auto Show. To solve this puzzle they must think back to the Heady 1960s and find clues in their collective memories of the show, and recover the Batmobile from the dastardly fiend.

THE MODERN DAY SEQUENCES: Well, they're not good. Let's put it this way: Seventysomething Adam West does a sloppy Batusi with Seventysomething Julie Newmar. Seventysomething Adam West and Fiftysomething Burt Ward engage in a sloppy bar fight with sloppy thugs. A wheezy Frank Gorshin (inexplicably dressed in a suit with an exclamation point on the front) sleepwalks through his role. No Eartha Kitt. Lee Meriwether relegated to a cameo role as a waitress. Booger from Revenge Of The Nerds has fallen on hard times, playing Adam West's manservant (whom he keeps calling Alfred). They even pull the tired old gag of looking around wondering where the voice is coming from whenever there is narration. It's lame. No, it's more than lame - It approaches a level of lameness previously unforseeable in the Television Industry; it's like you've been handed a kaleidescope to find the only colors inside are brown and black. Adam West is his usual self-parodying self, and appears younger than Burt Ward. Yvonne Craig apparently refused to participate.

FLASHBACKS: Jack Brewer (Adam West/Batman) has more muscles than Adam West could have ever hoped for, but his mannerisms and voice are all on target. Jason Marsden (Burt Ward/Robin) does a terrific impersonation of Ward, and is engagingly funny. Burt Ward caught physical hell on the set, evidently. There are actors playing the roles of young Frank Gorshin as the Riddler, Vincent Price as Egghead, Caesar Romero as The Joker, young Julie Newmar, Burgess Meredith as The Penguin, and others. For some reason there is a distinct absence of Alan Napier, who played Alfred. These are the best parts of the film by far, though, with great attention to period detail. The women are all go-go gorgeous.

OBSERVATIONS:

1. I never knew Lyle Waggoner auditioned for the part of Batman/Bruce Wayne. You remember Lyle Waggoner, don't you? He was a cast member of The Carol Burnett Show, and played Steve Trevor on the Wonder Woman television series opposite Lynda Carter. They incorporate some of his audition footage into the movie. He looked the part, moreso than Adam West I think, but he didn't have the deadpan delivery West had. He played it straight, but too loose. He has the funniest line in the whole show, though: When West and Ward finally discover who the mysterious 'narrator' is at the end of the flick, it turns out to be Lyle Waggoner hidden in a booth at the auto show. They call him out by name and he says "That's right, I'm Lyle Waggoner. And if I had played Batman, the show would still be on the air today." He then sniffs haughtily and pulls the door shut.

2. Burt Ward would make a pretty decent looking Penguin should they decide to do another campy Batman show. He's put on a few over the years. Definitely doesn't need to be running top speed ever again; I was a little worried when I saw how purple his face was turning. And, it wouldn't have killed him to practice his lines a bit more before stepping in front of the camera. He was never the greatest actor to begin with, and it's not like he spent the past 35 years honing his craft.

3. Julie Newmar, wow. Seems like she just stepped off a spacecraft from Jupiter. I think she's had some facework done; she's starting to look like Jocelyn Wildenstein. I bet if you looked up under her hairline on the back of her neck you'd find a handful of skin twisted up like a wad of rubber bands. She flubbed and whispered nearly every line she had in the show, and they left all the flubs in. I couldn't figure out whether it was because the filmmakers were too cheap to shoot retakes, or no one had the balls to ask her.

4. There's a scene in which a nubile 'Extra' Burt Ward has slept with attacks him with a knife when he tries to leave her home; that nubile 'Extra' is Adam West's daughter in real life.

5. The Batman outfit might seem a little 'off' if you see the film. That's because the rights to that costume design are held by someone else, and they had to make slight alterations (the cowl is slightly different, and Batman's shirt is a lighter gray) to avoid legal trouble.

6. If I were a producer on the show back then, I would have fired Caesar Romero for not shaving his moustache and hired Rich Little. Romero sucked, anyway. The main villain and he's overshadowed by The Riddler.

7. There's an air of sexism throughout the movie: I noticed it, and normally things like that go right over my head. Nearly every woman in it is an airheaded bimbo, save for Yvonne Craig and Julie Newmar. There is a scene with Craig where Batman 'accidentally' palms Batgirl's tit, and everyone throws their heads back and laughs like one of those freeze-frame parodies on Police Squad.

8. I don't know if I buy the story that Burt Ward was offered the lead in The Graduate before Dustin Hoffman, because I have seen Burt Ward act. I can see where they might have offered James Bond to Adam West, though, considering how the thing with George Lazenby turned out.

9. The flame coming out of the Batmobile was CGI. That makes me a little sad, for some reason.

10. I could've lived the rest of my life not knowing Burt Ward had to take pills to shrink his Dick.

SUMMARY: I think it would have been much better had they ditched the ridiculous Modern Day plot, and replaced it with interviews with the old cast and crew intermingled with theflashback scenes. They could have expanded on those scenes, then. It was okay, nothing more. If you were never a fan of the show like I was then you should avoid it like a hot grease fire; you will despise it, trust me. Oh, and the villains of the modern-day plot turn out to be Frank Gorshin and Julie Newmar, because 'the villains never got any respect'. LAME.

"Holy Feelings Of Inadequacy, Batman!" - I said I'd explain what this meant. When I was younger I purchased a book on the Batman TV show, and one chapter had a listing of every single "Holy...!" Burt Ward said during the run of the show. We all thought it was hilarious, and started making up our own "Holy...!" sayings - usually filthy or nonsensical. One day I got rejected by a girl I'd asked out, right in front of all my Old Chums. When she left I turned to them, stood like Burt Ward, smacked my fist into my open palm, and said that.

Mar 8, 2003

Survivor: Hamazon - part two


Because no one posts on the weekends.

If you wish, you can catch yourself up to speed by reading this first part.

DAY 10:

JABBERJAWS TRIBE - Holy Steamroller and Executive Annoyance are up for an early-morning 'bitch 'n' moan about no one working' session, while everyone else seems to have rolled over and clicked the bamboo snooze button. Holy Steamroller actually uses the word triflin' as a descriptive term. Once awake, Ms. Frizz complains to the camera about all their complaining. She vocally resents the insinuation that the rest of the tribe are lazily sitting on their asses while Annoyance and Roller do all the work. She expresses this resentment while lazily sitting on her ass. Heidi-Ho gives her game-winning philosophy, which boils down to 'win by sleeping'.

TOMMYBOY TRIBE - Gung Whoa, Skeletor, and Mr. Weatherbee go fishing, reeling in around eighty pounds of absolutely nothing. Gung Whoa seizes this opportunity to create an impromptu limerick, which is very funny in that 'not even remotely funny' way. Mr. Weatherbee explains their lack of success in the fishing endeavor with the following actual quote: "We haven't been using worms. The reason we haven't used any worms yet is that we haven't looked for any." Meanwhile, Skeletor is regretting the Secret Communist Party meetings he used to have with the now-departed Chow Yun Fathead, and lamenting his supposed exclusion from the group - although there is no hard evidence to support his paranoid suspicions. On their worm-gathering expedition, the fellas all express amazement that worms exist in the ground.

JABBERJAWS - Heidi-Ho explains to the cameraman that fat women can work harder than skinny women - which is why she (being crank-addict skank skinny herself) is unable to lift a finger to help around the camp. Holy Steamroller gives a speech where she rambles on about looks fading but virtue remaining forever, and how lazy beautiful people are all going to hell (I think - I was only paying half-attention). Heidi-Ho and Stupormodel think shink she's just jealous. Stupormodel says, in the following actual quote: "Don't be all mad because we're cuter and have better bodies - it's not our fault." - evidently oblivious to the fact that she is a zit-riddled cheese weasel with legs like knotty pine limbs covered in beef jerky. The 'Cute Little Girls', as they call themselves, form a dimwitted alliance, which I will call THE ARTIFICIAL BOOBIE ALLIANCE. Ms. Frizz suggests offering Power Dyke a role in the THE ARTIFICIAL BOOBIE ALLIANCE, as they'll require a member capable of doing all their work for them. Power Dyke jumps at the chance, allegedly because "I'm able to persuade the younger women moreso than the older folks." Suuuurrrreee. Quit licking your lips when you say that.

TOMMYBOY - Skeletor strikes the goldmine and manages to hook a peacock bass, then runs back to camp squealing like a ten-year-old and sucking up to everyone: "See? I AM worth a crap! I caught a fish! Smell it! See, that's a fish all right and I CAUGHT IT! SO you can't kick me off until we eat it, okay?" Massah Massengill scratches his asscrack in appreciation, digging in deep.

LUXURY CHALLENGE -

Four ropes, each rope attached to section of the respective tribe's banner. Each tribe must build a fire under each separate rope, burning through it to release that section and unfurl the entire banner. The reward? A Fridge stocked with COCA-COLA - exactly what a group of malnourished human beings living in extremely hot conditions needs, a syrupy-sweet carbonated beverage. It'll be fun watching the winners puking the liquid up later, though. Tommyboy lags behind at first, then the wind picks up. Host Jeff Probst offers the ladies helpful advice, something I thought he wasn't allowed to do but has been doing since the first show. The guys huddle in front of their fires, blocking the gusts of wind by exposing their flesh to open flame. They win, and celebrate by rubbing the ice-cold cola cans against the second-degree burns all over their shins.

JABBERJAWS - Ms. Frizz has a complete emotional breakdown over the absence of soda, stating (actual quote): "Like, I don't have any motivation to go anywhere, my body is like, sucking energy from my left toe." She collapses into a fit of blubbering, saying over and over that she can't last 30 more days. This goes on for like three hours. The other women around her put on their best Sympathy Faces while surreptitiously sharpening their knives. Power Dyke, concerned that the ARTIFICIAL BOOBIE ALLIANCE might start leaking, speaks for everyone viewing around the world when she says to the camera "Shut up, you big whiner." This is intercut with Frizz steadily sniffling and confessing she wants: 1. out of the game 2. off the island 3. A large Coke.

DAY 11:

TOMMYBOY - Gloating over their diabetes liquid, they count calories and nutritional values off the backs of the cans. They then roast their special fish, and Skeletor grosses out the entire CBS Network (Becker puked) by popping out and slurping down the fish's eyeballs. Gung Whoa states that this was 'the perfect day'. Mr. Weatherbee says all girls are icky and he hopes the boys get to stay together forever and ever. That night, Magic Goof Ball serenades his all-male tribe with his karaoke rendition of 'You've Lost That Loving Feeling', which he'd been practicing in his basement (no lie). Massah Massengill says Magic Goof Ball is pathetic to the camera, then roots around in his drawers for a dingleberry.

IMMUNITY CHALLENGE -

Jeff shows the tribes a dead piranha, describing the fish as 'dangerous'. Each team has One Hour to catch as many of these dangerous fish as possible. The winner (determined by weight of the entire catch) wins immunity and all the fish they caught. The men instantly devise a structured plan where no one is allowed to stray even if they lose a finger, while the women stagger around flapping their arms trying to avoid piranha bites. Gung Whoa describes this 'system' in monotonous detail to Jeff. The women get their fishing lines stuck in bushes and trees. Afterwards the fish are weighed, and the guys get to take Curious George the Immunity Idol home.

DAY 12:

JABBERJAWS - Ms. Frizz nearly passes out from the effort she exerts while standing up, and repeats the fact that she would like to go the fuck home. Executive Annoyance agrees (to the camera) that she will send her there. Power Dyke, Stupormodel, and Heidi-Ho conspire on a smaller scale to keep her in the game for the good of the ARTIFICIAL BOOBIE ALLIANCE. Children Of A Lesser Gripe is the swing vote here - and just like in High School, the Cheerleader Chicks stroke the ego of the Plain Jane Chick in hopes of getting something they need from her. In this case, it's a vote to keep Ms. Frizz on the island against her will.

TRIBAL COUNCIL -

Leadership is discussed, where everyone maintains a polite, even tone - but you can see the daggers in their eyes as they speak. Power Dyke tries a last minute stroking of the deaf girl's ego again, and fakes out everyone not in the alliance into believing there is a Unanimous Tribal Agreement about sending Ms. Frizz packing. The votes are taken, counted, and:

THE TRIBE HAS SPOKEN - Holy Steamroller is swerved, and sent to the Spirit In The Sky. Tears well in Executive Annoyance's eyes, as she realizes her head is next on the ARTIFICIAL BOOBIE ALLIANCE chopping Block. Heidi-Ho tosses her hair back in triumph, the look on her face suggesting she is emerging as BIG BITCHY VILLAIN this season.

Mar 7, 2003

THIS IS ONLY A TEST



I cannot thank Solonor enough for steering me towards W.Bloggar. It's this application that posts through Blogger (as well as several other blog/journal), a sort of Microsoft Word/Front Page overlay that allows people too lazy to learn html (me) endless flexibility in posting. You rule like it's all cool, Sol.

Now, to test out the program:

A while back Michele ran a Civil Defense Poster Contest where she asked the Photoshoppers to come up with updated CD 'propaganda' posters. I took a different route, opting to show the darker side of sudden catastrophic events:



Hey, I saw Soylent Green, man. I know what's really going down.

You can see the original on this page.


Heh. I just checked the preview for this post. This might actually cause me to hang around Blogger/blogspot a little while longer.

Mar 6, 2003

Bump, Bump-Bump

The Blog Walk and the Survivor Recap have been bumped to tomorrow, due to a very long workday - and that whole 'Maybe we might possibly at some point go to war with Iraq one of these days, or not' deal. I taped Survivor but haven't had the chance to watch it yet; so don't spoil it for me, okay? I was so hungry when I left work this evening, I actually purchased and consumed one of those pre-made catmeat sandwiches from the gas station. The whole time I was choking it down I thought about that episode of Newsradio, the one where Phil Hartman related to Dave Foley how his mother used to leave him a box filled with those. I miss Phil Hartman.

And that's Things You Probably Don't Need To Know About Me Part 287, in an ongoing series! Collect 'em all! Awe your friends, mystify your enemies, ruin your sex life!

Mar 5, 2003

Hippocratic Loaf

So, for the last two weeks now I've been having chest spasms. Not the pleasant, 'feels like a massage' kind, either. More along the lines of the 'just about to drift off to sleep and HOLY SHIT WAS THAT MY HEART EXPLODING?' kind.

At first I ignored it - as an adult male, it is my sacred duty to ignore pain along with any other unsettling body sensations until such time as I am carried forcibly into an emergency room. But, after two weeks, it became less a disconcerting twinge in my chest, turning instead into this really annoying pulse which happens randomly five or more times a day. It's hard to describe what was going on, but I'll give it a shot: Someone was making a fist inside the middle of my chest and twisting it. It would last a second or so, then go away.

I have a 50/50 shot healthwise, if you go by my family tree. On my Father's side, everyone lives to be at least 80, if they have any health problems they are few and far between, and none more serious than what my Dad went through recently. No cancer, no heart attacks, no strokes. My Grandfather on his side lived to be 94, and only started to fail a little the last year he was alive. I honestly believe he died of boredom - he moved in with my uncle Alvin and his family, and was sort of ignored after he got settled in.

On my Mother's side it's a bit different. Most of them live long lives, but they accumulate just about every disease you can think of along the way. I think some of them have even had scurvy. The two exceptions are: my uncle Milton, who died before I was born; and my Aunt Dorothy, who died when I was six. Milton died of a second heart attack - he had one when he was in his late 30s, and the doc told him to take it easy - a few years later he was driving home and saw someone pushing their broken-down vehicle off the side of the road. He got out to help them, and had another heart attack doing it. Died on the side of the road at age 43. My Aunt Dorothy died suddenly one day of a brain embolism, while she was changing clothes. I sure did love my Aunt Dot, who used to come down and take us all to the beach, and always wore those cool Cat's Eye glasses. My Mom says that at her funeral (open casket) I kept asking why she wouldn't wake up and come sit with us - I was worried she was going to miss everything that was going on. She was in her forties.

So, I took it a little more seriously after two straight weeks. Monday I went to the Medac to get it checked out.

I filled out the little clipboard chart, answering No to all the 'drug' questions, and Yes to all the 'sex and rock 'n' roll' questions. My favorite part on the questionnaire - "Describe the symptoms you are having (be specific)_____" - that blank space is ACTUAL SIZE.

Then I sat there for 2 1/2 hours, drifting into an amorphous Waiting Room Delirium, all the snuffling and moaning and shifting around in squeaky plastic seating, all the coughing and Waiting Room Carrot Tops, all the work-related free-flowing gashes and icepacks and stains on the carpet and scattered piles of nostalgic magazines from yesteryear (those New Kids On The Block are really making an impact on the music scene according to People Weekly), all the tantrum babies and their hollow-eyed mothers who have mastered Zen tricks to tune them out but no, no, the rest of you go ahead and enjoy how healthy and elastic my child's respiratory system is, I won't stop it, please delight in the thick runners of snot dribbling from her nose to her chin if you need visual stimulation, all of it swirling and blending like the worst snack-sized yogurt cup you've ever had, all of it burrowing and melting into a skull-crackling headache and the immediate thought racing through this signalized piercing pain is If I'm not sick already, I'll bet ten dollars I will be by the time I leave, two hours of this, I wish I had a Gameboy, my Kingdom, all my worldly possessions for a Gameboy, because if I have to keep talking to this Redneck squirting tobacco juice from his scary cakehole into the Styrofoam spittoon he is clutching about 'Those Goddamn Ragheads' we are watching on CNN, and making eye contact with that kid who wears the snot on her hands like nature's own gloves and is just waiting for the right moment to pounce and leave a slimy booger-encrusted handprint on the front of my shirt, if I have to keep flipping through another issue of Motor Trend's 1983 Car Of The Year Issue, if I have to watch as someone else wipes their festering nostrils across their stiffening shirtsleeve, and then I know, I know what this is really the waiting room for, I know it as surely as I know the Ghost Of Bruce Lee just winked and hammered another perfect One-Inch Punch into my chest wall, I know that at any moment Belial or Azrael will hook an icicle-clear clawed hand around the corner of the pastel green wall, drag itself into the light, checking and clucking over the chart in their other hand, smiling all the while and mispronouncing my name as they cheerfully call out "Mr. Pair-ote? He'll see you now" because this isn't the waiting room for Medac, no, no, this isn't even a waiting room at all, it's -

The door swish-pumped open,and I looked up because I couldn't help myself. No one can. The door opens in a waiting room, everyone looks. Try and stop yourself - you can't, because there might be an interesting wound to see, which will break the monotony for a few treasured seconds.

No wound.

You can tell she's sick, the way her beautiful doe eyes and button nose are slightly red-rimmed, and who the hell would come here just to hang out anyway. Well, maybe that Redneck, but try to focus here. She's a shy one, glancing at the floor as she floats across the 'lounge' to the check-in desk, and the slight smile at the corners of her mouth tells you that she might be a bit embarrassed at having to come to the Medac, but the light way she carries herself, and the way she pauses just for a heartbeat as she passes you and makes eye contact (hey, try not to stare you asshole), and the casual way she holds her purse and the muted clothing she wears, the most normal thing you have seen in two hours, it all tells you that there's a good chance she's silently exhaling the word 'perfect' every time she draws a breath. You watch her the whole time she stands at the frosted admittance window, trying to be covert but you catch the truck driver across from you gawking and he sees you, gives a big grin, nods and winks, he's thinking about his naked swollen knotty frame on top of hers, and you get a little nauseous because you know he thinks you're fantasizing about the same thing but you're NOT, she's just delicate and measured, just radiates kindness from her shy invisi-smile, and you don't get to look at anything like that nearly enough in your life nowadays, so you just wanted to take it all in for a second and forget why you're here, but this sweaty bastard across the way had to leave a shitty smear over it all. So you look away, because you don't want anyone catching you and mistaking you for someone like him, but every now and again you peek over the edge of a Golf Digest published before Tiger Woods was born just to watch her play with that snotty kid who isn't screeching anymore, just to see something normal in this purgatorial row of fiber plastic, and this goes on for a while longer until you notice a pool of mucous running from her perfect nose to her perfect upper lip, and then she runs her tongue out and across the lip and back inside her mouth and oh, spell broken, in one fractured second she has swipe-morphed in The Incredible Snot-Eating Woman.

"Mr. Pair-ote? The doctor will see you now."

I follow this lady, this ancient lady who has Grandma Arms all the way down to a back room where I hop up - that's what they tell you, they say "Hop up on the examination table", and it's so ingrained into their subconscious they would probably say it to a legless person before they could stop themselves. I tell her what's going on and she looks at me like I am lying. Checks the pulse, normal. Checks the blood pressure, normal. Looks at me again, like I am wasting her time, and I wish I could pay based on attitude; I'd leave with them owing me money. Exits, leaving me alone to ponder a chart on the wall opposite my perch, a chart with a smiling, misshapen child's head floating as a disembodied hand prods it with an ear instrument of some type. Underneath are the various stages of Ear Infection, all gloriously detailed with cut-away drawings and photographs - the one at the end, an ear cavity completely filled with thick pus, causing the eardrum to bubble outward near the bursting point, and I can't help but wonder They made this poor bastard sit there in what must have been excruciating pain while they took that picture? Did they at least pay for it?

The doctor comes in, head down, studying the chart. Something about him vaguely familiar. He speaks, and it hits me. I don't want to laugh, I really find nothing funny about people with speech impediments, especially people who might be in the position to keep me from dying, but the way he looks, and the voice, and the recognition, it is all I can do to keep laughter from explosively echoing across the room:

He looks and speaks just like an older, white-haired Billy Bibbit. He never took his life in Cuckoo's Nest - he faked it, escaped from the morgue, and traveled all the way to our town of Wilmington, where he took charge of his life, studying medicine and floating from one Urgent Care Service to another so they could never find him, until he ended up sitting across from me today. I always liked Billy, fictional as I had assumed him to be.

I told Dr. Bibbit what was going on, and he listened to the heartbeat, took the pulse, checked the BP, and assured me it was running like Clockwork of the Orange variety. Deep Breath in, out - you've got some wheezing going on in there, kid. I'm an apartment painter who's allergic to cats, the single most popular apartment pet in the world - and I smoke. My lungs always sound like that. Use an Inhaler? Yeah, couple of times a day, just to clear the crud out. Hmmm. Am I using it too much? No, but the more you use it the less effective it is. You should look into something which lasts longer and you use less. Also, looking into another line of work is advisable. And give up all this?

He then asked if I had stomach problems, and I told him I had a Hiatal Hernia, discovered when I was younger, and that I sometimes had acid reflux because of it. Ah. Lights went on. Spasm. Chest. Slight Pain. Heart Fine. All signs point to - Esophageal Spasm.

So, now I am all loaded up on Steroids for a week, along with some anti-spasmodic medication. If that doesn't work, regular doctor. $110 altogether, worth it for the peace of mind. Unless it doesn't work, and turns out to be something he missed.

Anyway, tomorrow for the new polls. Didn't realize what time it was.




Mar 3, 2003

POLL RESULTS 3/03/2003

For the grillionth time, my comments are in italics.

The results for the first poll, The Internet: Similes and Smilies (Total Votes: 52):

The Internet is like:

A Mexican Soap Opera (3) 6%
- Have you ever seen one of these? They're incredible. There's an authentic Mexican Restaurant down the road from where I live/work, and every couple of weeks we'll all go down for lunch. They have a TV over the bar (which of course has a sequined Sombrero tastefully centered above the Bud Lite taps), and there's a Mexican Soap playing every time we go. The women stand around looking like sullen goddesses, while the men sneer and contort their faces into expressions worthy of a Melodrama circa 1890. It's all great material for mocking (which we do, obnoxiously), and once I even caught one of the waitresses with her gaze transfixed on the screen, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

A High School Yearbook Stolen And Written In By All Your Teenage Enemies (4) 8% - All the backstabbing and rumor mongering, all the empty promises and stunning betrayals, all the HYSTERICAL DRAMA OVER NOTHING IMPORTANT...yeah, this one is my favorite.

Clans Of Inbred Hillbillies trying To Cannibalize Each other (5) 10% - Have you ever seen one of these? They're incredible. Some friends and I took a whitewater rafting trip a few years back, and somehow managed to get lost in the hills. Well, long story short, the women all stand around like sunken zombies while the men...the men...anyway, no matter what happened, no matter what people whisper behind your back - YOU ARE STILL A MAN, CHAD.

A Nest Of Starving, Enraged Vipers (1) 2% - Nothing to add here, really. When you wake up with a bunch of these wriggling in your sleeping bag and the cast of The Hills Have Eyes gibbering and slobbering over you, it's more 'uncomfortable' than 'funny'.

Three Or Four Dudes Using Millions Of Code Names (9) 17% - Think about that picture of Rusty Brown I posted a while back while you're getting all hot and heavy on the date chat or firing up the webcam.

Urine Soup (1) 2% - See, because it's SOUP it's theoretically good for you - but it's made of URINE, so it would be all nasty and...oh, just forget it.

Karaoke For The Deaf (4) 8% - Someday I will write this scene into a movie, I swear.

The Worst Marx Brothers Movie Ever Made (2) 4% - Which would also be called Urine Soup.

An AA Meeting Which Just Ran Out Of Coffee (10) 19% - And if they run out of cigarettes too - ARMAGEDDON.

Heaven, Only With Fire And Screaming (6) 12% - It's those obnoxious Cherubim again with their Kiss Tribute Band. No matter how many times you knock on the cloud they won't turn their amps down. I just don't understand this new, 'modern' Heaven at all.

Other suggestions (7) 13% - listed below:

"A cut on the roof of your mouth that would heal if only you could stop tongue-ing it." - CS - Is it a 'Captain Crunch' cut, or a 'chewing barbed wire' cut?

Sock Puppet Hell - Which I like to think of as 'The Good Hell'.

Other - That's so deep, man.

real life, only sterile and removed - having seen pics of a lot of the internet's seedier inhabitants, I can only give nightly thanks for that.

Porn starring the cast from The Facts of Life - Blair was SO FINE. And there's a reason Kim Fields was called 'Tootie'.

The Special Olympics. Even if you win, you're still a retard. - I want a T-shirt.

a place where everyone is more special and important than everyone else - And no one is more special than YOU. You're my favorite. I mean that. Why would I lie?

And now, your comments:

Dude, LOL. - TYVM!

babyarm! - I agree.

a worldwide simultaneous group of circle jerks - And you didn't even leave a URL link. Shame on you.


Results for the second poll, Hollywood Wears Its Underwear On The Outside (Total Votes: 26):

The Worst Comic Book/Strip Movie Adaptation Ever Made Was:

Batman And Robin (8) 31%
- Charlton Heston would have made a much better Batman, Clooney - you mean-spirited, arrogant little weaselfuck. I wish you three or four more films in a row just like it, if it'll help speed you along on your disappearance from my local cinema forever.

Superman 3 (1) 4% - From the meeting just before the script rewrites - "Richard Pryor's hilarious. How can we stop that?"

Superman 4 (3) 12% - Everyone was still doing a lot of Coke in 1987, right?

Popeye (5) 19% - I actually like this movie - saw it as a child at the theater. I just added it to the list because I realize I am in the minority regarding judgement of the film's merits. But I liked the sets, Paul Dooley made a great Wimpy, Robin Williams made a perfect live-action version of a Max Fleischer cartoon, and whoever played Bluto scared the shit out of me. The songs made my ears ooze a thick green pus, the flow of which did not subside for several hours. And Popeye's initial dislike of spinach smacked of a screenwriter smugly whispering "I can make the Popeye legend BETTER" to himself over his typewriter, hands folded under his chin. So I can see your point.

Captain America (1992 movie) (0) 0% - He had rubber ears on the sides of his mask. That's all I have to say.

The Punisher (0) 0% - "How can we strip this character of the one unique quality he has over every other murderous vigilante committed to film?"

Daredevil (1) 4% - Thank you. I disagree, but only half-heartedly.

Justice League (unaired live-action series pilot starring David Ogden Stiers as The Martian Manhunter) (3) 12% - Yeah, this is the one for me. I've only seen about 15 minutes total of this, but that was plenty. The atom shrinks down and saves a cat stuck under a porch, Green Lantern just stands there, and Ogden Stiers voluminous green belly pokes through the straps on his costume. The costumes look like they hired Ben Cooper to do them. It's wretched, even more so that The Legends Of The Superfriends live-action 'roast' from the 1970s. Worth watching if the other choice is a razor blade across your eyes. But not by much.

Fantastic Four (shelved Roger Corman production from 1992) (1) 4% - I will give the cast points for really trying to make the best of it, but the stretching effect for Mr. Fantastic was achieved by a fabric-covered stick with a glove on the end of it, and the Human Torch only flamed on at the end in a computer generated sequence lifted straight out of Poser v.1.0.

Primary Colors (2) 8% - I remember everyone on all the talk shows gushing over this flick when it came out, and you could see the lies through their strained smiles. It's truly awful, The Clinton Campaign as directed by Leni Riefenstahl. Really, it's complete propaganda - I could see it, and I was not a Clinton hater. They took every last bit of bite the book had and removed it all, leaving only the masturbatory elements. Rent a bukakke film instead; it's the same thing.

Other suggestions (2) 8% below:

L'iL Abner (1946) - A film only partially redeemed by the appearance of the great Buster Keaton, and even HE sucked in it.

The Phantom Menace - This movie has the most suspense-free race/chase sequence I have ever seen. All noise and flash, all style no story. Like a video game, but you aren't even allowed the joy of participating and playing it.

One comment:

Watching "Batman and Robin" makes me want to punch someone in the neck. - This is what they should have offered in lieu of a refund on your ticket: A free knife hand chop right at Clooney's (or the cast member of your choice) Adam's Apple.

Too tired for actual content tonight, so...Tomorrow - I'll put up new polls, change out that Photoshop gag (yeah, it was pretty mediocre, but I can only hope it killed a few erections), and tell you of my experience at the Medac today (my looooooooooooooooooong experience).

Mar 2, 2003

Sunday Drippings

In case you haven't caught on by now, this is one of those things I do when I don't have any real material.

1. Today's Parade Magazine (you know, that really upbeat, vaguely annoying little unstapled pamphlet they insert into the Sunday paper?) has a feature article on 'What People Earn'. Here are some interesting salaries:

Elvis Presley earned $37 million this past year, which for a dead person is pretty good, and approximately $37 million dollars more than I will ever earn while alive.

Cameron Diaz earned $40 million, only $3 million more than the deceased King Of Rock And Roll. Perhaps she should consider a deal with the Franklin Mint to up her dollar value in 2003.

Rosemary Short, Child Psychologist, earned just $10,000 last year, and I think I know why. I am far too lazy to scan the picture in, but in it she is wearing clown makeup and a bright green curly wig. As a child psychologist, you'd think it might cross her mind at some point that CLOWNS SCARE THE SHIT OUT OF LITTLE KIDS, GIVING THEM RECURRING NIGHTMARES AND GENERALLY SCARRING THEM FOR LIFE. You know, I was thinking of becoming a child psychologist myself. I have the perfect costume in mind, one which will surely get the children to place their complete trust in me, and really get them to open up their feelings - Jason Voorhees.

Sandra Bullock made $30 million last year. Huh? Did she make a movie last year? What was it called?

George Lucas made $200 million last year. Look, Hollywood, if you're reading this - I can come up with something which bleeds off the success of the past for WAY less than that. Don't believe me? Well, just feast your eyes on this pitch: Pippi Longstocking 2003. Yeah, only this time she'll have jetpacks and rocket launchers (the cool Anime kind which launch a dozen at the time with all the swirling vapor trails), and she'll be a twentysomething stripper. Picture lots of explosions which frequently blow off her bra throughout the film. And her monkey? A Cybernetic Killbot. This idea is yours for only $1 million. Think about it.

2. I watched some of the Boomtown marathon on Bravo today. I was prepared to hate the show, but I sat through an episode while I was eating lunch and it reeled me right in. That Donnie Wahlberg? Ten times the actor his brother is. I thought that while watching Band Of Brothers, and this just reinforced my opinion. Tonight's new episode was like a Band Of Brothers cast reunion, with three of the actors having been on that HBO miniseries. What a terrific show - I don't watch a lot of Cop Dramas, but I'll be watching this one from now on. Well, as long as it lasts, anyhow - I read a little about it online and it's not doing very well in the ratings. Figures. I enjoy it = cancelled.

3. Road To Perdition was pretty good, but it's hard to swallow Tom Hanks in a role like that. He looked like The World's Deadliest Accountant.

4. Saw American Beauty as well, and I have to ask - what's the big deal there? Sure, it was a good film - but it was a Hollywood version of reality, the type critics and awards people love, but is in actuality as far removed from real life as you can get. This is what isolated and sheltered celebrities think real life is like for 'the average family'. I mean, I don't know anyone even remotely like these people. Do you? If I did, I would consider relocation. Plus, that ending was like something out of a really bad Soap Opera, As American Beauty Turns. Talk about some left-field unbelievable bullshit. Anyone who thinks that accurately reflects real life ought to attempt living in it once in a while instead of relying on movies as a reference point.

5. Listen to this idiot:

"He is the symbol of a healthy nation," said Alexei Fedyakin, 27, a political science graduate student who came to see the "Stalin: Man and Symbol" exhibit and wrote a diatribe in the visitors' book complaining about material showing Stalin in a bad light.

See, this is the kind of thing that will make the world continue along the circular path of historical reenactment it always has. Things will revolve around and around, and sooner or later someone who thinks along the same lines as this waste will eventually come to power there, and you have Stalin Deja Vu. 20 million, that's how many estimated murders over the course of his reign, and you still have apologists like this. We have these types of apologists over here, too - some of them sponsored a lot of the demonstrations you've watched on TV the past couple of months. That's why things are never going to change; not really. There'll be the illusion of more change, of progression towards a shining, better future for all...but someone like this is always waiting in the wings, skulking in the shadows to remind us of the second half of that old cliche: the more they stay the same.

6. Oh, yeah, he's really going to agree to this. This whole thing just gets stupider by the minute. How much can you roll your eyes before permanent damage occurs, do you think? See, I've got this twitch...

Tomorrow - Poll results, and some actual content ("As opposed to every other post you make?" Yeahyeahyeah, I'm way ahead of your insults, pal).

Feb 28, 2003

I never watched a lot of Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood when I was young; I was more of an Electric Company kid, myself. But I was over at Snarkalicious earlier and read where Trace is quite upset at Fred Rogers' passing, so I thought I would pass this along for her.

I'm a BIG fan of The Little Rascals* (the Pre-Froggy years), and a few years ago I bought the book Little Rascals: The Life and Times of Our Gang by Leonard Maltin (which I highly recommend if you are a fan). I remembered seeing the following picture, which I scanned in to share with Trace and all of you in case you haven't ever seen it:



Evidently there were a LOT of Petey Dogs over the years. This is from the book, explaining the pic:

...Pete could make personal appearances around the country when he had to fulfill a yearly schedule of movie production in Hollywood. One of the youngsters who eagerly posed for a picture with Pete during a 1934 appearance in Atlantic City was Fred Rogers, who grew up to become a later generation's pied piper on Television's Mister Rogers' neighborhood...and who remembers how happy he was to meet the Our Gang dog so many years ago. Says he, "I certainly liked sitting with Pete."

I wrote this in the comments section of Dawn Olsen's post about Rogers' death, but I'll also post it here because I can't think of anything else to add to it: I think the fact that he was really cool about Eddie Murphy's 'Mr. Robinson' parody on SNL, and even complimented it, says a lot about his character in real life. It's not often a truly pleasant human being passes our way, leaving behind nothing but positive feelings and warm memories as they go.



*Oh, my favorite Little Rascal of them all was Stymie. Know who gave him the derby? Stan Laurel of Laurel and Hardy fame. Laurel and Hardy films were made on the same lot (Hal Roach Studios); Stan and Ollie would frequently visit the set and crack up watching the kids. Stymie took to following Stan around all the time, and one day Laurel asked that he be given a derby of his own. The crew on the Little Rascals films nicknamed him Stymie because he was always curious and underfoot of the cameramen.


Mine Is Smoky, Dusky, Oh So Barry White-alicious In Case You Are Wondering

So, who's gonna try this new Audioblogger deal right here? I am torn between thinking it will provide much hilarity, and thinking it will provide much yammering noise.

SURVIVOR: DUMBASS

SPOILER WARNING FOR THE WEST COAST

Did I say Dumbass? I meant Amazon. 'Dumbass' is just a word that kept repeating in my mind as I watched.

WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW

There are two tribes - the Jabberjaws tribe (all women), and the Tommyboy tribe (all men). Yeah, those aren't the real names of the tribes, but the tribal names on Survivor are always meaningless gibberish, and I can't remember the real ones. I'm also going to make up new names for all the contestants, ones are intended to boil their personalities down to a easily recognizable term. I will try to recap what's gone on so far in the first two episodes within these descriptions.

The Jabberjaws tribe is made up of the following members:

1. Christy - Children Adventure Guide for the Deaf; Chronic Complainer. In the second episode she broke down crying over the fact that she is deaf, and thus can't participate in any discussions with her tribemates after dark, to which the entire viewing audience uttered a collective 'Well, DUH!!' She threw a hissyfit because no one would help her build a shelter, and then refused to build the shelter after everyone rolled their eyes at this and decided that building one would shut her the hell up. Her new name is Children Of A Lesser Gripe.

2. Deena - Deputy District Attorney; Go-To Gal. EVERYTHING HAS A PROPER ORDER seems to be her motto. Her new name, even though she is married with children, is Power Dyke.

3. Heidi - P.E. Teacher; Magnificent Chest. Thumbs up for saline! From the way she talks, she seems to have no problems about using her fleshbags for their hypnotizing qualities - thus, her new name is Heidi-Ho.

4. Janet - Travel Agent/Abstinence Counselor; Whiner. Began complaining and swooning theatrically in the first episode about how ph