Hello!

Hi folks.

Is there anything interesting going on right now?

Am I the only one completely bored out of my mind?

Anyway, I read this, thought it was pretty good.

Another week, another earthquake. Having already signed a nearly eight-hundred-billion-dollar stimulus bill, restored the rule of law to America’s treatment of detainees in its custody, developed plans to shore up the banking and housing sectors, demanded new regulation of private equity and hedge funds, proposed sweeping reforms in health care, energy, and education, and deepened the country’s involvement in Afghanistan and Pakistan, President Obama, in his tenth week in office, effectively put the government in charge of a large part of the automobile industry. And that was just Monday. By midweek, at the G-20 meeting in London, he had also committed the United States in principle to a new global regulatory framework for financial markets and, by some accounts, had resurrected the art of Presidential diplomacy. Then, on Thursday night, he won passage of a $3.5-trillion budget, whose tax and spending provisions mark the end of a long-term trend toward greater inequality.

I think this is why no one seems to regret voting for Obama.

He's not giving everyone what they want, but then again, he never could. He's doing a pretty kick-ass job, though. It's unfortunate we have to have our rock star president during such bad times, but maybe that's exactly when we need a good guy in office.

Taibbi on AIG

If you're like me, you find the daily talk of "the recession" depressing enough to make your ears bleed.

But here's two comforting facts: It's going to get much, much worse, and it's going to last much, much longer than anyone expects or wants.

OK, comforting wasn't the right word there.

So buckle up, or whatever. Get some headphones. It's all anyone is going to talk about for the next 3 years, at a minimum.

And when you read a clear, well-reported analysis like the one offered by Rolling Stone's Matt Taibbi, you begin to develop the frightening picture in your mind. This should be required reading for every man, woman and child in the country.

Because you realize that these financial guys, these "free market" gurus, they're nothing more than common criminals on the grandest of stages. Is there a more helpless feeling in the world? They've infiltrated the government and it's systems of power and regulation and turned them into a big, fat joke. And they allowed themselves to become so big that the entire economy rests in their hands: big, fat companies that are "too big to fail."

So we must bail them out to save the system, which led to the corruption and greed in the first place, because the hunger for bigger profits is all it is based on.

It remains to be seen, but the 2008 election is beginning to look like a puppet show, an expensive, highly choreographed sporting event that had no real meaning or importance. Because these financial guys are still swarming. McCain would have brought with him Phil Gramm, a co-conspirator in this entire mess. Obama bought with him Richard Holbrooke, the pig Larry Summer, Geithner, and countless others.

Some fucking choice.

Jon Stewart, hero

You think this is a game?

If you haven't followed the supposed 'war or words' between Jon Stewart and financial cracker-jack Jim Cramer, you've been missing out.

Rather than fully update you, just watch the following clip(s).

The Daily Show With Jon StewartM - Th 11p / 10c

Jim Cramer Interview Outtake Pt. 2

Daily Show Full Episodes
Important Things With Demetri Martin

Political Humor
Jim Cramer

The Daily Show With Jon StewartM - Th 11p / 10c

Jim Cramer Interview Outtake Pt. 3

Daily Show Full Episodes
Important Things With Demetri Martin

Political Humor
Jim Cramer

Time and again, when Jon actually gets angry, and has a good cause, he uses his half-hour cable-TV platform to completely annihilate people who completely deserve it.

It's not a fucking game.

Madoff

As I watch this cartoon-like man, a dead ringer for The Count, only evil, I do not get the sense, despite the media hype, that there are any true victims in this dastardly scenario.

Only varying levels of criminality.

For too long the ever-growing disparities in wealth have created huge separations between supposedly equal people, and then between those people and the less fortunate, and between the less fortunate and the even less fortunate: the starving, those families living on less than $1 a day.

So when I hear the horror over someone losing $1.6 million to this evil Count, a thief with no equal in terms of size and scope, I do not think "victim."

I think, well, that money didn't ever really belong to you anyway, and neither does the land you own, or the house you bought from the bank that is now asking for more money from you in a different way, aside from the interest and the overdraft fees and the various other ways they steal from the poor and give to the rich. You can't even claim to really, truly own the clothes on your back, because someone may come and take them, too.

Your stock portfolio isn't real. Your five houses and luxury vehicles exist but their value isn't real.

$5,000 suits exist because someone out there finds it necessary to buy them and has...or had...the money to do it.

Money isn't real.

I hope we learn, from this and the entire collapse of a corrupt system, that money can disappear. It can vanish. That which was created by man for man's supposed gain and has since controlled every aspect of every minute of every day is as tangible and real as the minutes that pass by. You can try to squeeze it in your hands and hold it forever, but it will not work.

It's time to find something different with which to occupy our time.

The inevitable Slumdog formula

So Slumdog won, as expected, and as I mentioned in my previous post, I couldn't help but feel like a downer for being so down on it. From Danny Boyle's smile that seemed to be damaging his face to the cute little kids, no one could have been more appreciative of the awards, and it was nice to be spared the false humility (see Penn, Sean*).

Although, as the butterflies in my stomach subsided, the realization kicked in that we could be in for a slew of Slumdogs as Hollywood hit-makers try to make the film into a formula. It's what they do.

So don't be surprised if movies about slums - from Africa to Asia and beyond - are suddenly the next big thing. And be as equally unsurprised if none of them live up to even the low standards of its standard-bearer.

I've since read a few more reviews of Slumdog, many of which praise it for being a Dickensian fable.** They point to the Bollywood-style ending, and say, "Well that didn't make much sense, so who says the film itself has to be completely plausible? The film's magic lies in its implausibility."

Maybe so. But good movies are supposed to make you think. And what I could not help thinking about is, while the new president has to go on TV and make a commitment to not torture, and while Mumbai, India was just attacked in a vicious and unthinkable way by Muslim terrorists, why would you have a scene in which Indian policemen torture a game show contestant?

And not just allude to it, but show it? In detail? Is this supposed to get us thinking about torture in any meaningful way? Or is it just the "larger-than-life" Bollywood style to throw in stuff like that?

And the other scene I mentioned before, the one where the kid jumps into a small pond of shit to get an autograph from the guy who hosts the game show. Where does this ridiculous celebrity-worship fit in a film like Slumdog? What does it mean? What is it saying? The answer is disappointing: Almost nothing.

Everyone crows about the film because it's "entertaining," as if that justifies its complete lack of control over the vignettes that make up the film. I've seen nothing that proves to me this film resembles anything close to intelligence. The only thing offered is that you gain a certain intelligence by growing up poor. That is probably true, and an interesting observation, but it is lost in all the running, running, chasing, dodging and quick cutting. And it is lost in the muddled handling of torture and celebrity-worship and ... just about everything else.

Let's be honest. This movie got a break because it's set in an exotic location, with a Brit director, and a cast full of unknown Indian stars.

Uh...I was going to have more, I think, but I'm running out of time here.


*Although I did enjoy Penn's well-done call to those who voted for the same-sex marriage ban to consider their "shame." It was a solid moment, and a necessary one.
**In fact, Dickens is mentioned by so many separate reviewers, I can't help but think the reference was included in a media packet. If you ever read a handful of reviews about the same movie, and almost all of them include some inside reference (i.e. this was shot entirely in Chicago! The filmmakers used cotton balls and Vaseline to make him look old!) you can assume it was in a media packet somewhere, handed out to reviewer, probably accompanied by merchandise or something.

Oscars 2009

I had considered writing a little something about this years' Oscar crop, but I had neither the time nor finances to see all the nominated films, and felt underqualified. (Of the nominated films, I've seen only WALL-E, The Dark Knight, and Slumdog Millionaire).

So I sat down to watch, thinking this thing would start at 8 p.m. with best supporting actress or some such award, but no, they have a red carpet special on ABC, this despite the fact that red carpet specials had been airing on at least two other channels (CNN, E!) prior to that.

For shits, let me discuss a few nagging issues.

The Oscars are to movie buffs - I consider myself to be a marginal one - what the Super Bowl is to hardcore NFL fans. Mainly: over-hyped, glitzy, and often wrong on the question of who is No. 1. And the sudden national attention that the Super Bowl brings is no different than Oscar season buzz - suddenly Slumdog and Mickey Rourke are on the tips of everyone's tongues. And (please excuse my hypocrisy) just as suddenly, every jackass who got high and watched Tropic Thunder thinks their opinion on who should win matters. (I haven't seen Tropic Thunder).

Despite all this, you'd be a fool to miss the Super Bowl if you love football, and the same goes for the Oscars and movie buffs, even if you don't like the teams that are playing. (For those interested, the red carpet special is the halftime show in my analogy, which is to say completely beside the point.)

A brief word on the movies I have seen, considering Slumdog is a heavy favorite to win Best Picture, and I've seen it, and didn't like it any better than, say, a colorful version of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition (or is that EM: Slum Edition?).

First though, The Dark Knight. I won't go into detail as to why this is a mediocre film with great moments. But if you rewatch it and don't find yourself wanting to fast forward to the parts with Heath Ledger's Joker, than I think your fanboy dues are fully paid.

I mean, really, that part where Gordon fakes his death? Completely unnecessary, needlessly confusing, and shockingly dumb. That part where the convict throws the detonator off the boat? I have to ask: Are you serious? What hurts is that The Dark Knight was so disconcertingly bad that I called into question director Christopher Nolan's skills. I started to think that maybe Memento actually sucked, and he just confused me into thinking it was good. And yet I still love Batman Begins. It stands on its own as an excellent film.

But Ledger still deserves the award for Best Supporting Actor, and would even if he were attending the ceremonies today. He made the movie worth seeing two or three times, even if you had to whip out your iPhone and play games during the boring, meaningless parts. That's why it made so much box office dinero.

Anyway, I've said too much already. What irks me is this backlash against the Academy for not nominating the damn thing. On CNN, they let morons with computers send in e-mails commenting on the nominations, and some fool said something to the effect of: Why do they overlook movies that are popular and make lots of money like TDK?

While able to operate a computer, this person must not have been alive for the 1998 awards, when the little art film Titanic (worldwide BO: $1.8 billion) took home 11 trophies. It beat out L.A. Confidential and Good Will Hunting for Best Picture, both of which were better films.

Moving on.

Slumdog Millionaire is everything that is wrong with movies and gets almost nothing right - until the very, very end.

For starters, it's a carbon copy of City of God, which didn't win an Oscar when it came out, presumably, because it's in Portuguese and the director was unknown at the time. The people behind Slumdog were smart enough to include English so that high-minded Westerners could "fall in love" with it.

And I'm not even all that mad that Slumdog, like City of God, makes poverty-stricken slums of the worst kind seem a little too beautiful and a little too much fun. Others have been critical for this reason, but I think because I liked City of God so much and I don't mind looking at beautifully shot film that I'll give it a pass.

City of God and Slumdog are set on opposite sides of the world, but they both take a look at slums in an episodic, time-jumping way, from the point-of-view of a good-natured guy from the bad part of town. But Slumdog is held back by an off-the-wall premise (or should I say, plot device). Seems the main character somehow gets on the Indian version of Who Wants to be a Millionaire as a young man, and knows every answer because each question just so happens to correspond to a tragic/meaningful part of his life in the slums. That's highly convenient, but it could have been forgiven. But then it is revealed (SPOILER I think) that the host of the show has the boy tortured when they suspect him of cheating. They hook him up to a damn car battery!

What the fuck? I don't think that even in the worst of the worst areas that you can get away with fucking torturing contestants of syndicated game shows.

And to make matters worse, the whole movie isn't about winning the money, but about getting this boy back together with a girl he met in the slums. Two things ruin this hokey reunion. One: the relationship was never developed. There is not a scene in this movie where it is evident why these two love each other, other than that they found and lost each other a couple times when they were young, and both went through horrible tragedies. They don't hold one conversation as young adults that make these characters feel real and true. They are merely placeholders. This movie has been called romantic, but it only contains signifiers of romance: lusty staring, longing for one another, sparkles-in-the-eye. It has no actually romance, and shows no progress of love. Only this: Young, poor, together. Separated. Older, apart, incomplete. Reunited. And, I might add, (this is No. Two): They are both drop-dead gorgeous.

Now I'm not going to start discussing the merits of only including beautiful people in movies, because if you exclude beautiful people movies you've excluded just about all of them. But could these two stars, supposedly raised without parents in the slums in this film, be any hotter? He's a bit goofy, but you can tell it's only because he's young. She may be the hottest girl on the planet.

I could go on and on and on, counting the things wrong with this movie. It shouldn't even have been nominated in my view. (And it has been largely critically acclaimed, until some Oscar-season whisper-wars brought it down a few pegs.)

As stated earlier, they did do one thing right. The Bollywood-style dance number at the end could have lasted another 30 minutes and I would have enjoyed it. It made no sense, but still fit with the emotion of the movie more than the kid jumping in a steamy swamp of shit for an autograph.

I've already said too much, and have likely missed a few awards. No worries. All it means is that you'll be spared a long-winded argument for why WALL-E is the best film of the year, and I don't really want to do that anyway, because I haven't seen 'em all yet. (Although I'm not expecting Frost/Nixon or The Reader to best it, I'm curious about Revolutionary Road, Doubt and a few others.)

Any of you out there want to add your two cents? Did you like Slumdog, WALL-E, The Dark Knight any more or less than I did? Do the Oscars even matter anymore? Are you even watching them?

Bristol Palin and her creepy mother

Either I was completely tone deaf prior to the 2008 primary election, or Hillary Clinton's 18-million-votes/cracks-in-the-glass-ceiling got everyone talking about women's issues. Especially women.

I'm not complaining. The XX blog over at Slate is always a good read. Same with Broadsheet at Salon.

What makes me slightly uncomfortable about all these women commenting on the way things are, and with a clear focus on being women and how that affects their view on the world, and how we live in a macho-dominated world, is that it makes me feel like a dick to be a guy, and I am kind of a dick anyway, and I'm white and middle class, so I already feel bad for all the advantages that gives me, and then plus I have to feel bad for being a guy?

It's like: call me an asshole 'cuz I'm an asshole, not 'cuz I have a penis. Or wait, do I even care why I'm an asshole? Maybe I just need to feel like I can not be an asshole eventually, but still be a guy. So maybe that's it.

Anyway, I do enjoy reading about women's issues: right to choose, equal pay for equal work, breast feeding, maternity leave, the new family structure, working mothers, etc., etc.

And this article on Bristol Palin's recent TV appearance on Fox (with Greta Van Susteren) was a terrific read. In her innocence, and like, um, high-school vernacular that still sounds more coherent than her mother, Bristol makes a great argument for not only waiting to have children, but also for safe and effective birth control, and for having the choice between having the child and aborting the fetus (well, you have to extrapolate a bit for that last one).

Then Mama Palin comes in and twists her words and babbles on likes she's known to do and Bristol looks at her like, "Um, this was my interview you attention-starved bitch."

From the Salon article:

And how poignant that the untrained and unrehearsed and inelegant message of the young woman who actually had the baby, the one who said, "I think everyone should just wait 10 years," made far more sense than the politicized jabbering of her elders.

Agreed. She may still have a nut-job mom, but I thought it took the right kind of guts to do what Bristol did: Go on TV and act like a real fucking person. Too bad the interviewer and interview-interrupter have totally lost sight of what it's like. (It doesn't need to be mentioned, but I'll do it anyway: Greta Van Susteren is a Scientologist, which makes her crazy and incapable of being consulted on anything, save space aliens and E-meters).

Current Events

Could I think of a more boring title? Not likely.

But the only thing I could thing of other than that was: "Dude, seriously? WTF!?"

Because, seriously, what the fuck?

I'm talking, of course, about the economy. I'm ever-so-slowly beginning to understand what happened, why it happened and what the options are to fix it. It's a complicated fucking mess.

It would be like if 800,000 of the richest people in the world broke into, um, a mythical museum that had a 60 trillion dollar piece of crystal glassware or whatever. And they pass it around and toss it up and down and generally make gobs of money off this expensive crystal thing and then the damn thing, being tossed around like it was, it falls to the ground and shatters. And these 800,000 rich guys all look around at each other like: Can we get someone to clean this shit up?

(Cough, cough, let's get a black guy to do it....cough cough the crystal was the "economy" in my metaphor...cough cough cough, man I have a cold).

OK I'm not sure anyone here wants me to give my explanation of what actually happened to fuck everything up so I'll just skip to how to fix it.

But before that, I'll say this: I wish Obama had come to power with better circumstances, and I'm glad it's him in there and not McCain or Bush (or Romney or Palin or Hillary or Bill Richardson). But I'm still not all that happy with how Obama is handling things.

He seems to be (in cooperation with Timothy Geithner, who looks like a crook, smells like a crook, and cheats on his taxes like a crook....and seriously? Go by Tim, you're old now) desperate to save capitalism from its excesses (a la FDR, who was not a "socialist" despite the far-right's insistence that he was. He was as capitalist as the rest of 'em).

My whole thing is: Is this system worth saving? There is no serious debate on television about this. But is the global system that led to such soaring wealth and success for so many not the same system that led to where we are now? Is it an inconsiderate question to ask if this is not the inevitable result of capitalism? Is it not destined to end in chaos and fear and depression?

Two things:
1) Even before this collapse, in the boom times, were things even really that good? No. They weren't. Many were still poor. Many were still dying needlessly. Gas and food were still too expensive. AIDS and malaria still ravaged Africa. Extremism and violence still raged across the globe. The difference between now and then? Then, a few of the elite were making gobs and gobs of money.
2) In light of that, what's the goal here? To get back to that? Obama C.O.S. Rahm Emanuel is reportedly fond of saying, "Don't ever waste a crisis" or something to that effect. I'll admit some crises are capable of being used to push the country to greater heights (9/11 was one, and it was largely wasted). But really, what the crisis we have here exposed is this: All those supposedly smart guys who ran around making so much money in our system weren't "smart" at all, and were just playing around in an elite system that aimed to make the rich richer and the poor poorer. And then they went and had too much of a good time and fucked it up for everyone on the planet. Are we really trying to go back to that?

I'd rather not. But I'm not the HNIC, am I?

So how to fix it? Geithner, whom I don't trust, and who is a crook, still is deluded to think that some sort of public-private bullshit can be worked out to save the banks, which are filled with "toxic assets." As a person who uses words frequently, I'm astonished at this pairing of "toxic" and "assets." It's such a wonky phrase.

Anyway what it means is that, OK, banks have all this money they loaned out, and now they don't expect to get back because they gave it to people who couldn't afford it in good times, and now the good times are gone. But they might be paid back, eventually, so they are still "assets" -- they are just so worthless right now that the losses over these assets are larger than the amount of cash the bank has (making the bank "insolvent" or "fucked" in normalspeak).

So banks still have money, but none of them want to loan any more money out. They want high cash reserves to show investors they can handle the losses over these toxic assets. (Investors are still bailing).

Holy shit this is complicated.

So all these assets, no one knows what they are worth. If you just have the banks sell these assets off on their own, and let the market price them, the banks probably will lose too much money, and they'll fail. So the banks won't sell 'em. But while they aren't selling them, they aren't lending, and the economy needs lending to grow. So, we're stuck, basically.

That's where the government could come in, buy the toxic assets off the banks (using taxpayer money, or a combined public-private thing) and then wait until maybe those fuckers are worth something in five years and sell them then. Then the banks, cleared of these toxic assets, would still probably need some more money to get to lending again.

Good god I hope someone is still reading.

A problem: what do these assets cost, or, how much should one pay for them? Capitalists like Geithner, the crook, want to let the market decide (private pricing). While the market is crazy, it's not an idiot. If a bunch of public money is going to be thrown at the problem, they may jack up the prices, which would fuck the gov't (and the taxpayer) over royally. And this whole public-private thing is short on details about how it would actually work.

At least, that's what I think is going on.

So now, the word creeping its way into the national conversation is nationalization, which even "high priest of laissez-faire capitalism" Alan Greenspan is now supporting. (Along with, it seems, SC Sen. Lindsey Graham).

Here it wouldn't matter, presumably, what these assets are worth. With the banks under the control of the government (rather than just owing the gov't a shit-ton of money), the gov't could just remove the assets at will and put them into a "bad bank." Then they could fix up the banks and eventually give them back over to private investors (But when? After how long? What if the economy never returns to the levels the gov't wants? It's a touchy issue.) Add to this: it worked in Sweden. But Sweden isn't America. There are many, many more banks.

Read the Washington Post for some info about it, if I'm being unclear.

But James Surowiecki says this about nationalization. Even if you "stress test" banks and only take over the "insolvent" ones, investors are still going to bail on all banks, which means the banks that were tested to be "good" will suddenly be cash-strapped, and will need more and more money. Which is why all that money we poured in to the banks doesn't seem to have done anything. Because the stock prices have tanked, the banks are just vacuuming up money and nothing positive is happening.

So the gov't would have to nationalize all banks, from the kinda-OK ones to the horrible ones, from Bank of America to BB&T to every last shitty bank around this country. Huge deal. Big undertaking. And there is no guarantee it will work. In fact, it may make things worse before it makes it better. And when has a politician had the will to do what's right, even if it takes time? (See Iraq, Bush? Kidding, kidding).

OK so that's that. No conclusions.

My whole hope is this: Fix it. Get it right. Make it better. And dear God, if you could screw over those rich fuckers who did this in the process, then by all means do it. That's why crooks like Chuck Schumer, who is a sleazy slimeball of a man, oppose nationalization: it would screw over their rich Wall Street friends who've made a killing playing this dangerous game and who've bankrolled political careers of people like fucking Chuck Schumer.*

I was going to do some quick hits, but I'll just make another post. I doubt anyone made it this far. Hey, if you did, leave a comment. And answer me this: Is capitalism worth saving?


*My disappointment in Obama largely results from the fact that he is not immune to the charms of sleazy fucks like Geithner and Schumer, and may in fact be one himself, though I'm holding out all hope that he's not.

Family Guy

I've always felt that it was important to have good taste when it came to television and movies, while still being able to watch The Real World or Independence Day and enjoy the hell out of 'em.

That is to say, I can still have fun watching bad movies, or bad TV, and I can turn my nose up at them later.

I've never been able to figure out where Family Guy landed. Was I a fan because it's a funny postmodern take on the "Honeymooners"-style fat white guy/family sitcoms? Or was it just bad TV that was occasionally funny and I enjoyed it in spite of its badness?

To put it in a slightly weirder way: Is Family Guy more Dane Cook or more George Carlin? (I admit to laughing at Dane Cook's jokes from time to time, but also to staring at him in disbelief the rest of the time).

My hunch had always been that Family Guy good. But it does seem to get shit on by some people. So, uh, anyway, to the point of this post.

I've decided that it's good. And this clip was a big factor, as was Sunday's entire episode. Both are posted below:







Plus, the guy who created this show is from Connecticut, like me. In some weird way, if he is just an over-hyped phony, then I feel like one too.

25 Things About Me

Interesting times in the world, don't ya think?

I had been entertaining the idea of doing a mock 25 things about me on this blog and it seems some commenters have beaten me to the punch.

Truthfully, I don't really mind the 25 things phenomenon. It's an interesting way to get to know the people on facebook whom you may not be all that good of friends with in the first place. And some of the "things" I've read have been revealing, honest and interesting. (Aside: Is it possible to correctly judge someone based on their choices for the 25 things? Is it possible that your 25 things says a lot about who you are?)

Even more interesting is how quickly it spread. And how media, from Slate to Salon to ABC to USA Today, etc., (I'm not going to link; too lazy) have covered it. You'd have to be locked in a dark hole not to have heard of it.

Of course, I'm never going to actually post my 25 on facebook and tag the 25 people. Not my style. Never has been. (And maybe I'm just afraid that it does say a lot about who you are, and maybe I'm too chicken to find out.)

Ah what the fuck. Here it goes.

1. I try to live a Godly life and always seem to fall short.
2. In high school, some of my friends liked to go cow tipping. I liked to order my steak rare and throw it on the ground.
3. I attended a concert freshman year and got too close to the speakers. Since then, I hear ringing in my ears. At all times. It's worse the quieter it is. (It's called tinnitus.)
4. I try to run every day. Nine times out of ten it's away from someone, like police officers or over-zealous panhandlers. But every once in awhile, I run toward something. Just the other day I found myself next to an extremely attractive woman on an elevator in an apartment building. I let her out first, then bent down to tie my shoe. I looked up and she was gone. So I ran outside, then darted through the parking lot, and caught her getting into a blue Jetta. She took off and I chased, waving my arms and screaming, "Wait!" She must have seen me because she stopped, and I finally caught up. By this time I was sure I was in love. She rolled her window down, and I leaned on the car, breathing heavily. I barely had time to utter a word when I got a second look at her face. Ehhh. Not as attractive as I thought. I asked her if she wanted to buy a timeshare in Canada. Great deal, I said. She didn't seem interested. I kicked her bumper and told her she was an ungrateful slut who deserved nothing but the worst things in life. She drove off. I'm pretty sure I still miss her.
5. When I was little, I broke my arm when I fell off the monkey bars.
6. I am insatiable, but also require very little to be content.
7. Growing up, I had an imaginary friend named Mr. Henley, who looked just like one of my gym teachers. Oddly enough, they had the same name and a shared fondness for molestation.
8. I've never once had a sip of tap water, or milk that came from a nonhuman.
9. I shouldn't be here today. I should be dead. But luckily, May 4, 2003 was not my day to go. On that fateful morning, I was at the bank, waiting for the next available teller. In front of me was a little old lady who smelled of pecans and old people. She decided to turn and initiate conversation. I don't remember what she said, because all I could think was Jesus! Shut the fuck up lady, I don't care. Just then a pair of armed men in ski masks burst through the door and ordered us all to sit facing the far wall. I figured, hey, maybe I'll be on the news. But the damn old lady kept whimpering. She was really killing my buzz. I sent a text to my buddy Ricky. He quickly called me back, and my phone blew up. Damn 50 Cent ring tone. One of the armed men came over and demanded to know, whose phone was it? I made not a sound, and moved not an inch. I did, however, nod in the direction of the whimpering old lady. I waited out the rest of the robbery in drunken bliss.
10. Twenty-five doesn't seem to be enough! Damnit I just wasted one.
11. I'm offering great deals on time shares in Canada. Inquire within. (I'm not sure what that last part means, but it sounds spiritual.)
12. Since third grade I've been hoarding fool's gold, in hopes that one day it will be as rare as a virgin hooker, and then I will be rich.
13. Skipping this one, like they do with tall buildings.
14. I'm trying to broaden my horizons. I'm learning a new phrase in 80 different languages.
Pode arranhar as minhas costas?
15. I'm understanding if you don't share my sense of humor. I just don't want to talk to you.
16. I feel like I used to each fish sticks a lot more than I do now. Is there a fish stick shortage?
17. Seriously, when I find the person who puked in my closet that night I got really wasted, I'm going to kick his ass.
18. That fateful morning, my text to Rickey read as follows: "getin robbed, call me so I can get old lady killed".
19. I wore a kilt to my prom and everyone laughed. Then I pulled my kilt up to moon them and they laughed even harder. Years later I realized I forgot to take out my anal beads.
20. Cheerios, like most prescription drugs, are good for your heart. That's why I crush them up and snort 'em. I have a terrible habits and a terrible diet! Get to work saving me Cheerios!
21. Some guy, according to the movie Donnie Darko, said that "cellar door" was the most beautiful phrase in the English language. For my 2 cents, I think it's "finger fucking."
22. Sometimes I giggle to myself when I fart.
23. My pin number is 058699. Try to come rob me, I dare you. I'm right here. Come on, motherfucker, show me something!
24. Sweet mother-of-mary-baby-jesus-lord-hallelujah-christ-almighty-satan's-little-helper this has been a complete waste of time.
25. It's all about the B E N J A M I N S.

Also, I find that I'm very, very attracted to soccer boys.

Damn I might do a new one of these every week. What's next facebook!? Bring it on!

Friendly reminder

Always wear your seat belt.

Arrested Development

A friend turned me onto this show, Arrested Development, which has been off the air for a few years now. Although I had heard great things, I was skeptical a network comedy could live up to the quality of HBO's Curb Your Enthusiasm, Flight of the Conchords, or FX's It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, or Showtime's Weeds, etc., etc.

I'm here to tell you that, if you haven't seen it, it just may blow all of those other shows out of the water. And my inveterate readers, fear not; I'm not some cock tease. You can watch the whole thing over at Hulu. Here's the link to the Pilot. Start here, and watch them all, if you can find the time (and you should).

Here's what sets Arrested Development apart from the rest, in my opinion. First, the show builds on itself. It has just as many references to future episodes as it does to past ones. This makes the punchlines layered, like a delicious cake of funniness. And, as you can no doubt tell, it's almost too hard to explain. You just need to watch.

It also means you'll need to be a bit patient. Because it's so involved ... that's not the right word, but stick with me ... you'll need to watch at least half of the first season to start to "get" it. And you'll need to get into the third (and final) season before you can consider yourself a fan.

It also wouldn't hurt to gander at the Wikipedia page, which explains some of the references that, being current events, make a little less sense now.

(As an example, during one scene, Jason Bateman says to Jeffrey Tambor, who is lying, "You're a regular Brad Garrett." Garrett had recently beaten Tambor for a Best Supporting Actor Emmy. The entire cast, from David Cross to Alia Shawkat to, yes, the starting-to-annoy-me Michael Cera, is lifted by the brilliant writing and deserves awards. And, oh my God, Will Arnett as Gob...)

Another quick reason why AD is head and shoulders above the rest: every minute of every show is valuable. It adds something to the show. From the opening moments to the closing "epilogue" ("On the next Arrested Development...") you don't want to miss any part. A few times, like well into my sixth episode of the day, I'd get up to throw something away or go to the bathroom for a minute. It was too much to miss. I had to rewind that sucker.

I'll briefly describe the show so I can make one more quick example. The show is about a wealthy family whose patriarch has been put in jail for many, many crimes. It's basically an inside look at an Enron or Tyco family, those insanely rich crooks. (Needless to say, it's still quite timely.)

OK, so for a long time the family's attorney is Barry Zuckercorn, who is played hilariously by Henry Winkler. Then he is replaced (as the show's ratings continued to underperform, more on that later). By whom? By Scott Baio, who replaced Winkler (to much Hollywood drama, one presumes) on the set of Happy Days. It's just one of the many inside-Hollywood jokes you'll start to appreciate. And I haven't even told you Baio's character's name, which is such a perfect name for a lawyer. The show milks it for all it's worth. You'll just have to watch.

Am I preaching to the choir here? Am I just one of those way-too-late bandwagon jumpers that you just want to blow off the wagon with a cannon? Hey, at least I made it on before the movie.

When I wake up, it's too sunny out; I squint

Today John Updike died, and crassly, that seems like as good a reason I need to start blogging again. I gave my mother a list of about 30 authors whose books I wouldn't mind getting for Christmas. Updike was on there, and I guess he was extra-available on eBay, because I ended up getting like 10 of his books. They've sat, unread, alongside the other novels I got this year. Only a few - the short-story collections - have been cracked open.

Irrelevant, I know.

As to why I haven't been blogging (or reading) there is probably an easy, five-word answer (guesses allowed). But I'll opt for the more complex one.

The excuse-maker in me wants to blame conditions. Last semester, I was around a computer anywhere from 8-15 hours a day, or more. I did, on average, probably 2 hours of actual work, and maybe 2 more hours of work combined with toggling between Facebook, YouTube, texting, staring, reading stuff I wanted to read, etc.

That left a lot of damn free time spent on the computer. Very conducive to blogging. And when I knew I had to read some really boring stuff, I felt like I could cheat the system by reading something I wanted to, because at least I was reading! (It's often too easy to delude myself). This, very conducive to reading.

This semester, I'm not in school, and I have an easy job that doesn't require much, if any, brain activity (though late nights are required). It's hard for me to drag myself to the computer now, because no news is good news these days. I rarely find the energy or desire to want to sit in this uncomfortable chair and tap out something hopefully worth reading.

Don't get me wrong - I have plenty of time on my hands. This Monday, I had no plans, so I did nothing. I was just following what was on my Stephen Colbert Desk Calendar. It was blank; I was blank. The whole damn day.

But enough excuses! I've often thought of this blog as something of a conversation, maybe one that I should be having in real life, or that is simply impossible in real life. (Obligatory: What is "real" anyway?).

Anyway, for the few of you who have kept checking often and found nothing, I'm sorry. Consider it one of those long, awkward silences that I surely would have broken up with a loud, obvious comment. And to those who used to check often, but don't, 'cuz damn if I'll be burned again... Look, I know you're at work. And bored. I'm probably sleeping. I know you'd like something to do to get through the day. I'll try to make up for the lost time.

Confessions of a Teen Idol

There's a new reality show in town, put on by the folks at VH1, who care so little about what they put on the television it should be illegal.

It's called Confessions of a Teen Idol, and the premise is a doozy: A bunch of tools who used to be barely famous live in a house and try to revive their stalled careers. Did I mention that Scott Baio is the host? You may remember Baio as the tool from Charles in Charge. But did you know he recently became famous again? How did he do this? By getting his own reality show -- no, make that two reality shows -- on VH1.

And did you know that Jason Hervey is a producer of the show? You should. He used to be famous as the friend on Wonder Years. He recently regained some fame by being Scott Baio's friend on Baio's two reality shows. Jason Hervey is the proud son of Marsha and Alan Hervey. Marsha is a talent agent; Alan is a retail sales manager. He also married a porn star. This is all courtesy of Wikipedia.

Why is it important that you know this? It is most certainly not. But importance is a relative thing these days.

Hervey and Baio are mere bit players this time around, like TJ Lavin hosting Real World challenges. He's like, uh, I'm just a bit more famous than the formerly famous people on this show, so I have some credibility which I will lend to their careers, etc.

I grew up in the 80s and 90s and I only recognize two of the guys on this show; both are from "Baywatch," which is described as the No.-1-TV-show-in-America too many times to count. The "preview blog" on the show (and you see why I strongly dislike that word) says the men will bond together because, as former stars, they all share a common experience and even "speak a different language."

That language is douchebagtalk. Or douchebagspeak, for the Orwellians among us. DBS is a rare disease by which the afflicted are constantly remembering how awesome they used to be, compared with their current state, and talk in a slightly hidden way that drapes a thin veil over the meaning of their words. What they are really saying is this: Back when I was barely famous, I used to get pissy drunk with other famous people and I could fuck anyone I want. I did drugs, I spent money, I probably picked up a venereal disease. And now that I'm not famous anymore, life sucks, so I'm going to try to become famous again by being on a TV show about being formerly famous.

That being picked to be on this TV show is probably the best thing to happen to these people and their careers is never mentioned. And let me be clear: it's not the therapist they have to go to or Hervey's impassioned pleas (which are part of the show) that are going to help these gentlemen. It's just being on TV. No matter what it is. There is no such thing as bad publicity and everyone in the world, it seems, is out to prove it.

But they're never going to admit that on VH1. It breaks the fourth wall of reality TV, that you're not supposed to be acting, even though the show is written, and needs storylines, and sometimes these storylines are bullshit, and the people are acting.

But, then, what is acting? When is unprofessional acting on a reality show just being a dick? If I'm normally a nice person, but I am a dick for three months on a reality show, or the show is edited to show me at my most dick-like, am I then a dick? Or am I still the nice guy? Can I say I was just pretending? What if I'm marginally more dick-like in real life than on TV? Does any of this matter?

Which is more real: How I am or How I am on TV? Which is viewed more? Which becomes the real, whether we like it or not?

Too many questions for such a terrible, terrible TV show. I should be honest. I also recognize the guy from 90210. These guys are so pathetic and sad it makes me sad. The show itself is so much about failure it makes me feel like a failure. Because I'm the sad sack of shit watching this at home. These people have already had and lost more than I'll ever know, probably. And I'm reduced to watching them, and feeling slightly better than them, which is the point. It's the same reason they show the awful singers on American Idol, the same reason why we laugh at the person kicked off the Island first. It's all just a big game of status that we watch because we're losing the game in our own lives. Maybe if I was somebody, I wouldn't have to watch these nobodies.

But as long as I fail outside of the public eye, I still have my 15 minutes left. And that's a good thing these days.

Vacation's over

My apologies for the prolonged vacation from this blog. This, of course, is directed to the faithful who continued to check it almost daily without anything new for about two weeks.

So thanks.

And...this is going to be short.

If I have a minute later on, I'll write about a new show that I saw last night. Looks like a doozy.

Anyway, expect more frequent updates from now on.

Welcome home

So I went home for the holidays yesterday. Flew. Had a connecting flight in D.C. - Ronald Reagan International Airport (ugh...).

Anyway my Dad picked me up at LaGuardia, the airport in N.Y. We're driving home in some pretty heavy traffic. I don't need to remind you it's two days before Christmas.

So we're in the right lane somewhere in N.Y., trying to make our way to the left lane. Next to us, to our left, is a big, ugly dump truck of some sort. It's trying to make its way to the right lane. So my Dad speeds up a bit, and moves to the left, allowing the truck to move to the right behind him. Seemed legit, if a tad bit aggressive. Happens all the time, right?

Well I'm in the front passenger seat of the sedan. I turn and look at the dump truck. I barely catch a glimpse of the driver; he looked like you would suspect a N.Y. dump truck driver to look like. Rugged. Ugly. Anyway I look up, we make brief eye contact. And he spits.

Like, right at me. The wind carries it backward, and it lands on the back passenger side window. One big loogie and a few streaks of mucus just plastered there on the window.

As N.Y. Post columnist Cindi Adams would say: Only in New York, kids, Only in New York.

My Dad didn't even notice, so I pointed it out to him. The rest of the ride home, he'd let everyone cut in front of him.

"Don't want to get spit on again," he'd say.

I kind of wanted to fight that truck driver, like maybe one punch with a roll of quarters, or something even more vicious. But in the end, I had to laugh. What a welcome home!

Now it's like 5 a.m. and I'm up for no conceivable reason. And it's snowing.

Happppppy holidays.

On graduation, or...

...Why I don't have successful chit-chat

As most readers of this blog already know (I salute you, loyal readers!) I recently graduated from the University of South Carolina.

Some have begun to ask me, "What's it like?" or "How do you feel?"

I usually answer: "Weird," "Interesting," "Scary" or "I don't know" - then sort-of stare at the person as I ponder my future and they generally get creeped out.

While all those answers are basically true (the last being the closest) I think the picture has started to become clearer.

What's it like to graduate?

It's confusing. It's lonely. It's disorienting. In it's infinite freedom it feels shockingly constricting. With the options full and vast, the lack of small choices and a set purpose is like the floor dropping out from underneath you and the walls moving away yet you cannot move. You don't fall when the floor moves away, you're merely suspended there, with guilt and fear that maybe you should fall, or that you can at any moment.

I think when I came to college there was some unconscious feeling that I would begin to be defined by my time there and that, at the End, that far away thing, there would be something tangible. Not a degree or a job but a tangible person, an identity and maybe even a direction.

I'm sure that over the years I've ruled out a few things; I've come to know I am not this type of person or I'm not going to be interested in this or that. But I don't know that I've been able to, in a sense, learn enough about myself to get an idea of who I'm going to be. That to look ahead to the next 15 years and where I'll be is to look back at the past 4 years and where they've gone. You begin to wonder if artificially significant events like a graduation will be a turning point, just like the artificially significant event of going off to college. School is that weird time where you spend all your time accomplishing things so that you can accomplish more things in the future. And a recent graduation affords you the ability to be suspended in time between your old life as a youngster and your new life as an adult. There's an inherent inconsonance there.

I think it's why my instinct is to run back to school. The safe place; the place I've known since I began knowing.

It's a weird, interesting and scary time.

(And imagine if I hoisted all of this self-absorbed existential nonsense on an innocent passer-by?)