simple people I did not see the interview quoted from below so maybe someone can enlighten me. Are they just doing this ___ the ___ thing in a joking manner now or is this for fucking real?
"I'm not going to call him a socialist, but as 'Joe the Plumber' has said, it looks like socialism to him," she said of Joe "the plumber" Wurzelbacher.
The GOP ticket and their supporters have invoked Joe the Plumber numerous times ever since the Ohio man confronted Obama about his tax policy in an impromptu campaign moment.
Palin said Wurzelbacher is representative of "Jane the engineer and Molly the dental hygienist and Chuck the teacher."
I guess it had become so confusing to understand the public's opinions on various policies sorted (naturally) by occupation that we needed this new simple, easy to grasp system of categorization. But I am still gong to be confused until an exhaustively comprehensive database is made public. Right now I have no insight at all into what, say, Roger the rapist thinks about gay marriage as opposed to Binky the bondage-gear salesman. Where does Paco the prison-bitch or John the baptist stand on the issues that are important to ME?
If i ever find out who you are, I will kill you immediately. The thing you just typed was the worst and most awful thing I've ever read in my life. I hate you so much, I cannot even think properly. I wish you solely the most miserable experiences life has to offer and wish for them to happen to you often and continuously until you die slowly and utterly alone from an absurdly painful and drawn-out wasting illness. I hope that after you are dead, someone decides that they need to simply discard your body behind a bowling alley, and that stray cats slowly and unceremoniously eat your face.
FRANCH FRIES So, I cannot say that I've been participating in Health Month, but I have been experimenting with some other restrictive measures lately in an attempt to improve myself as a human being.
The first order of business was attempting to pay off the various ridiculous debts I've managed to accumulate during my time as a 31-year-old college student. I have been working full-time for a little under a month and have managed, to my surprise, to pay back almost $4,600 of my school loans thus far. I forgot how quickly savings can accumulate if you actually put your mind to it. The flip-side of this however is that our electricity got shut off yesterday for non-payment. I guess Christine and I have been subconsciously stuffing the bills in a pile each month without opening them, since we've decided to start saving to buy a place, therefore ignoring the month to month costs of our existence.
So last night we had to vacate our dark apartment and subject Jen and Marc to a surprise visit, which turned out to be a three hour long discussion about the specific ways in which humans are fundamentally unable to contemplate the origins of the universe (or physical matter) due to the impossibility of our considering such things outside the fictive constructs of time and space. Luckily, we were helped in bringing an end to what had become a very heated and circular argument by deciding to just shut up and watch reruns of Project Runway (I've missed most of this season so far).
I guess I also got carried away a bit last night, as I ended up having enough drinks that the end of the night is a bit hazy. I've been trying, and for the most part succeeding, in not having any alcohol "on weeknights" anymore. I guess this is somewhat in keeping with Health Month and I have also been exercising on our elliptical trainer pretty consistently (when we manage to have electricity that is). I've lost 22 pounds since the summer and for the most part have been eating healthier as well.
All this positive stuff kind of went out the window last weekend, however, particularly on Sunday Night when Christine, Heather, Holly, Andrea and I, after eating a bunch of Belgian Fries from the old man on Avenue A, went to some kind of celebration in honor of David Bowie I guess. I described this event to Liam as "basically a scene from Party Monster but 15 years later and with everyone making half the effort." I guess I was just bitter that the bartenders refused to wait on me though. Perhaps if I had sucked it up and put on some eyeliner, as suggested, I would not have felt like such an outcast. Oh well. There's always next year.
Tonight, assuming our power is turned back on, I am going to try to make a reasonably healthy dinner to atone for the debauchery of last weekend and last night. I'm thinking of trying a grilled tuna steak with wilted baby spinach and caramelized curried bananas, but I'll have to see if I still feel up for that by the time I get home.
Hmm...I just came across the new Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds video on youtube and I can honestly say I don't know what to make of it yet. I suppose that it has been several years since the man has expected anyone to take him entirely seriously, and since then I've found the whole thing pretty refreshing. I guess it all started with him yelling "my mate Bill Gates says, Babe, I'm on Fire!" and then continued with the more hilarious songs from the last double album, particularly "Hiding All Away." Then came Grinderman and, of course, the mustache, and it all still seemed quite entertaining and fantastic. I felt happy for him. I still do. It would be silly for me to have obnoxiously held this man to the contract I imagined he'd established upon releasing Henry's Dream and then Live Seeds, the latter of which I've claimed for many years is "The Best Rock and Roll Album Ever Recorded." And I haven't. I understand that such a feat could and perhaps should not ever be duplicated. Then again, I've met some folks who don't even like Live Seeds and I've likely bored them to tears trying to convince them otherwise. I could go on, but here it is.
I wonder what you all think of this. Aug, Liam, Rick, Christine, maybe...Gabe? Let me know. For some reason I imagine Gabe saying this is the best song Nick Cave has ever done.
...at least watch until 'softcock' Today I somehow came across an article on Wikipedia for a British comedy show from the 90's called 'Jam' and the written descriptions of the "skits" were some of the most insane things I had ever read (at least pertaining to a show that aired on national television). Curious, I looked it up on Youtube and was fairly blown away by finding the following clip:
Has anyone seen or heard of this show before? Aug, was this popular in Britain? It seems nuts to me that this would even get on television.
Also, you might not want to play this at YOUR JOB. Totally nsfw dudes...
Liam can rest now... It pleases me to announce that, after 4 years, I have finally found an image worthy of at least temporarily relieving the "Crazy-Faced Liam" photo of its duties serving as my user icon here.
This person was at an art opening that Christine recently attended. I cannot confirm whether or not she saved the event from being disgraced by racist skinheads just minutes after her picture was taken, as Liam had done that fateful New Years Eve 5 years ago, but she's no doubt about to do "sumthin' nuts."
More poorly written and badly translated German Theater Apparently, in my attempts at scripting scenes in German, I am only able to achieve the level of humor of a small child. Here, our humble professor is called out for having accidentally taken home the "sex dancer" Lola's panties on his previous visit to The Blue Angel.
Rath enters The Blue Angel, in order to perhaps find more panties. He sees Kiepert...
Rath: Ah! There are you! Corrupt bandit!
Kiepert: Mr. professor! I am pleased much that you return.
Rath: I am here in official characteristic.
Kiepert: I see. What for you can I do?
Rath: I search again for my pupils.
Kiepert: What? It is very loud! I could not hear you! You say that you search for more panties?
Rath: What?! I said that I my pupils seek!
Kiepert: Naturally, and which for panties you look for?
Rath: There are three pupils! You know very well, which!
Kiepert: But, Mr. professor. That is completely unfair! How can I know, which panties one wants?
Rath: There are three! You miserable thief!
Kiepert: Yes, you said that you look for three! But which type?! Blue? Silver? Silk? Cotton? Old? New?
Rath: What?! About what do you speak? Are you mad?
Kiepert: Am I mad? Forgive please, but it is you that at the middle of the night, panties try to buy! Perhaps should you think less about finding always new panties and get some sleep!
Awkwardly translated german fan-fiction. Today, for German class, I had to write up a make believe scene from the movie Der blaue Engel in which one of the schoolchildren characters explains to his parents what has been going on at his school. After translating the German text I wrote into English using a lackluster online translation service, I received the following script back:
Father: So Goldstaub, how school goes?
Goldstaub: Not so well.
Father: Why? Do you have again problems with the coward Angst?
Goldstaub: Yes, a little. Professor Rath behaves also miserably.
Mother: Again? What is the matter with this man?
Father: He is a permanently morbid man!
Goldstaub: He seems somewhat angry with Angst. I believe also that he is with a prostitute in the love.
Mother: What?! That is unbelievable! I am to call the police! Does this Mrs. visit him at the school?
Goldstaub: No. He sits each night in the "Blue Angel" and stares to the sex dancer Lola Lola for hours.
Mother: Really? And where is this "Blue Angel?"
Father: It is in the city center, beside an Italian restaurant.
Mother: One moment. Goldstaub, how know you that Professor Rath each night into "Blue Angel" goes? And father, why know you, where this place is so exact?
Goldstaub: Oh, Ertzum explained to me.
Father: Yes, Ertzum's father said to me that he and Ertzum in the "Blue Angel" often go. It is a real dishonor. I always said that with that family something terrible is wrong.
Mother: Miserable liars! I should have listened to my mother! You both are shameless pigs! I go back immediately with my mother to live!
Goldstaub: No! Mother! Do not go!
Father: It is too late, son. We both knew that this day would arrive. It is now only you and I. What thinks you that we are to cook tonight for dinners?
Finally I'm not sure how many of you who'd be interested have already seen this but I wanted to help "get it out there" regardless.
Now, I was actually excited at the prospect of seeing this fellow awkwardly "freaking out" on an electric guitar, which is not something one often gets excited about seeing another man do. But to have such inter-spliced with footage of peculiar oft-unconsidered animals furiously attempting to bone one another...well that is another situation entirely.
17th Century Pornography Apparently it has now been deemed acceptable that I will write a somewhat long and serious paper about this painting.
As we stopped by the Met this afternoon, in lieu of our actual class, the painting I had picked to work on was the first to be discussed by the professor, myself, and my classmates. Anyway, as it turns out, I had managed to pick out one of the most sexually obscene paintings in the entire museum.
Now, I kind of knew this when I chose the painting, but was still somewhat astounded to witness our Professor blushing in front of the damned thing and foisting the questions onto me. Apparently, this painting contains gestures and references that are so explicit that my professor became too emotionally uncomfortable to speak about them. In light of such, I had to step up and discuss issues of drunkenness impeding one's ability to satisfy a loose woman.
In any case, I am posting this image to see if ya'll can identify the obscene gestures involved in the painting and how they might pertain to the general scene. (hint) There are things on a table.
Man, who knew 17th Century Dutch Painting was so racy.
So, I will basically PayPal the first person to properly identify these gestures or provide any original insight into the painting THREE DOLLARS AND FIFTY CENTS. In fact, if you even put forth an intelligent or amusing comment, I will also pay you THREE DOLLARS AND FIFTY CENTS.
I expect comments from the following individuals:
Christine Liam Adam Stone Rick Webb Judi Tim Martin Matt the Magician Matt Silva Heather Petoff Gabe Crate Tony Norton Abigail Taylor Jared Norcott Spencer Sweeney
FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! Can't we just have Al Gore back as a nominee? Could any "swing voter" not realize the mistakes of the past? For Christ's sake the man is heir to a tobacco farm. He's being considered for a Noble Prize supposedly. Where is our hero in these times? Shove your promises not to run up your ass and admit you are the only candidate that can pull this off and return this goddamn government to some type of remotely sensible policy. Why won't this motherfucker run?
The midwest is going to tear these two to pieces. I don't like it, but it's a fact. AL MOTHERFUCKING GORE, WHERE ARE YOU?
Now, I have gone "back and forth" on whether or not I actually like this man (Costes) for almost a decade now and have still not reached a conclusion. His CD's are horrible. He seems to be an incredibly deranged and somewhat mean-spirited individual. Many of you have no doubt read about him as the former husband of Lisa Carver, who used to perform with him. It seems fairly clear that you cannot attend a show of his (at least these days) without having feces flung at you. But, I still cannot say that I disapprove of what he is doing and in fact, certain songs of his remain some of the funniest and most insanely upsetting things, both lyrically and "musically," I have ever heard recorded. And although he will fling crap at you, he does it while yelling in french about subjects one might want to yell about as an infant, when it was perfectly acceptable to shit in your pants and then protest loudly about what you've just done to yourself. So it's not entirely the same as a GG Allin situation.
Still, I cannot force myself to go see him even though he performs in the U.S. very rarely. I skipped a show of his in Boston about 5 years ago out of fear but then when I saw pictures of the show online, sure enough, it was in a very tiny crowded basement in Allston, shit was involved, and there seemed be no reasonable means of escape from it.
I don't know...part of me still wants to go see him but I am seriously too old to handle the trauma of getting shit thrown at me, even for art's sake. Maybe if I went in some kind of protective suit...but that would no doubt just infuriate him and make me the target of a personal feces attack. I guess when it comes down to it, I will probably chicken out once again.
Well... this has been a somewhat long time in coming. As you may have noticed, I've not been so fantastic at posting here in recent months (i.e years). As things go, I've been working on a new blog, which, as far as I can tell, currently exists in the most obscure corner of the internet imaginable and deals with issues that could not possibly be of any interest at all to contemporary human beings. I don't want to talk a whole lot about it, and am not certain that it should even be looked at, but the sheer fact that my entries here have not been taken down yet intrigues me. Anyway, I may be updating this journal even less in the interest of getting this new project "out there." God, I feel SICK with anxiety about exposing this endeavor.
If this whole thing fails, I can hopefully redirect you soon to some almost incomprehensibly amazing paintings Christine has just made. Man...artists! They continually shame me.
Retro Idiotic I know I have been not so hot at updating here recently. As it turns out, I suppose I was more suited towards complaining non-stop on the internet when my life was substantially more ridiculous and futile. I mean, if I were to discuss my "problems" now, they might actually be somewhat legitimate (although not really), and thus, totally fucking boring. So tonight, I found myself briefly revistiing the Glory Days of this journal, and was pleased to find the following:
-----Original Message----- From: Bishop, Paul Sent: Monday, December 15, 2003 2:57 PM To: Shea, Andrew Subject: 1st Floor Men's room
The paper towels are coming out of the automatic paper towel dispenser ALREADY WET! Maybe someone should take a look at this.
I'm tempted to actually finally respond to this email, as I'm almost certain that I ignored this man's concerns almost three years ago, just to let this individual know that I am still "looking into" how this could have possibly happened, and hope to have answer for him "in due time."
Oh, the days when the paper towel machines would torment us all mercilessly, laughing at us from their snug position on the wall, as we were all forced to wipe off on the non-visible portions of our socks. Why were the paper towels already wet? I still don't know. We were all united in perpetual confusion in such innocent times. But, alas, its a different world now. We've all learned a thing or two. It might be about how the headphones that come with iPods don't fit properly into our individual ear-holes (LONG entry about this coming soon), or that Americans just don't know how to properly prepare or garnish our scones.
Not Entirely Promising Well, I bought an iPod this evening, and I have to say that at this point my fears about buying one have largely come true. It appears that my iPod refuses to make any kind of sense so far. I've put a mere 10 CDs on it tonight, and the result is far from pleasing. In the last half hour the playlist, set to shuffle, has consisted of the following:
Poison Idea - In My Headache Pink Floyd - Arnold Lane Fat Day - Nice New Hole NIck Cave - Muddy Waters Poison Idea - Legalize Freedom Secret Chiefs 3 - Horsemen Of The Invisible NIck Cave - Black Betty UFO or Die - Ghetto DNA Poison Idea - Death Wish Kids Shockabilly - Psychedelic Basement Deerhoof - Trickybird Devo - Gut Feeling
In retrospect of course, this list looks somewhat allright, but can you dance to it? Certainly not. Can you raise children on it? Maybe, but you'd also have to play them Pulp and GG Allin to ensure that they're ok with diversity. Can I DJ with this? Not yet. But that's why I'm considering grad school.
The above article, as I'm sure you've noticed, was written by Rusty Humphries. That's right...none other than RUSTY HUMPHRIES himself has discovered that Global Warming is a TOTAL FARCE. As you are well aware, RUSTY HUMPHRIES, in addition to being the FORMER world's most ENTHUSIASTIC PROPONENT OF GAY-TO-STRAIGHT CONVERSION THROUGH RIGOROUS AND UNPLEASANT MAN-ON-MAN FISTING, is also now a professional scientist. That's right folks...read it and weep. Rusty "mo'fuckin'" Humphries...believe that. He's culled his info from Space.com. Quit being a chump and listen up.
Of course, any sane American, which I'm presuming is the lot of you, probably already clicked on this link for your fashion needs:
I mean, who isn't sick of Che's mustache all up in their shit all the time? That is so DONE! And of course its time to RE-DEFEAT Communism. Was it ever not? Did I miss something during the 1990's, while thinking it would be a good idea to listen to Nine Inch Nails' The Downward Spiral in the closet of my "apartment" in my parent's basement on LSD with the lights off? Even then I was wondering who Chairman Mao could have been and why he seemed to be a slightly bigger prick than my friends. And I said "NO! No, Trent Reznor! Communism is still NOT A PRACTICAL IDEA."
But no one listened to me.
NO ONE EVER LISTENS TO ME!
EDIT: I don't know how I originally missed this, considering I've always been a huge fan of lynching. It's not just for the darkies anymore...
Pony Up! I have no idea why this idea just occurred to me in the midst of gathering notes for a Political Science paper about Japan, but hey...Snakes On A Plane (I've heard that the hip internets kids are using this term and thought I'd take a shot at it).
So anyhow, what I'd like to suggest is that, if the Republican Party in America continues to insist on referring to itself as the "Grand Old Party," using the obviously outdated term "grand" to describe the nature of their rich political heritage and ideology, I think its high time that the Democrats update/get "retro on or asses" regarding their own party name. After all, who the hell knows what Democracy is? That shit is so confusing...and no one has time to figure it out what with having to constantly put on clothes and leave our houses.
Therefore, I'd suggest that the Democrats immediately redefine themselves as the "Ol' Gay Party." This would immediately highlight and diffuse so many touchy contemporary issues, while, at the same time, stressing how much more productive it would be to approach global politics in a "fun" way, and with way better hairstyling. Seriously, I'd doubt that anyone studying political history could fail to see how Robert MacNamara's glaringly "square" haircut in the late 60's essentially led LBJ (a somewhat noble man who repeatedly kicked his vice president in the shins) into escalating our troop commitment in Vietnam.
So please, write your GAY congressman today. Its time for a fargin' change.