True Conversations

(Approximate) Conversation with hubby:

Hubby: Why did the RNC choose Reince Priebus?

Me: I don’t know. He’s awful.

Hubby: Do Wisconsinites really sound like that?

Me: I think so.

Hubby: So all Wisconsinites sound drunk?

I don’t know.

 

Happy Belated Drunk Irish People Day.
smilingnotirish

I had a party. No Irish people were invited.

 

 

R.I.P., Davide

The new lady cast members of SNL are pretty undeniably awesome. Here is some proof. For whatever reason, this sketch amuses me to no end.

It’s Friday night. Let’s shake out the sillies!

What are you doing/watching/listening to/reading/cooking?

Oh…PS…this video is sideways because NBC is fascist.

Tips for Picture Resistance

Tips for Picture Resistance as Illustrated by Busy Toddler WHO CANNOT BE BOTHERED

(Faces obscured to protect the identities of the oppressors innocent.)

1.) When you have a moment to yourself, formulate your plan for sabotage.

2.) Express your displeasure for the idea by making a face as if your captor has just farted.

3.) Confuse the photographer by striking “interesting” poses.

4.) Make sure you have made your feelings of resentment clear.

5.) Physical violence should usually be used as last resort.

6.) You might try giving the world the stinkeye to express your disdain.

7.) You may also try hitting the corner of your eye on a table and adopting a belligerent “We represent the Lollipop Guild” look to scare off the photographer.

8.) If all else fails, but put a damn basket on your head. That’ll show ’em.

Would I “Write” a Blog Entry Just to Have an Excuse to Post Pictures and Videos of “The Final Sacrifice?” No.

If, for the purposes of this entry the value of “no”=”yes.”

Hey, look what I realized when I learned that Ben Shapiro wants poor Sandra Fluke to wash his skidmarked drawers–he looks an awful lot like buff, macho movie hero, Troy McGreggor.

Ben Shapiro, right

So, yeah, my thoughts drifted right to “The Final Sacrifice,” as they are wont to do. And it got me wondering: If Ben Shapiro is buff, macho movie hero, Troy McGreggor, who is his Zap Rowsdower? Who? Who? Who is chubby, sweaty and drunk enough to be that man? I can’t think of anyone.

The Gift of Low Expectations

So, I watched this last night.

I was kinda hard-up and it was one of the few movies available I had even a sliver of interest in seeing. I didn’t have high hopes it would be good. In fact, I was pretty sure it would be laughably bad. So you could have knocked me over with a feather when I found myself paying close attention to the film. Well, as close as I could with a baby toddling around.

The movie has several things to recommend it, assuming you’re a fan of the genre, which I would describe as dystopian, near-future soft-scifi.

  • The premise, which you probably mistook for something else during its poorly-made trailers, is pretty neat in a creepy, sad sort of way. It is–first and foremost–the thing that keeps you hooked. You want to know where the hell the story can possibly go.
  • You may find the near-constant shots of the arm-numbers (which keep track of how much time the characters have to live) annoying, but I found it an effective to way to drive home the urgency of everyone’s situation. I was actually fairly uncomfortable throughout most of the film. So…well done (?), filmmakers.
  • In Time is darker than you may expect. With the rich living in heavily gated communities, the poor are left to suffer in ghettos, living day to day. Literally. See, time is currency, and because the residents of the ghetto are so poor they often only have hours or days to their name. Every day is struggle to survive.
  • Once you know where the film is going, it reveals its message. Sure, it reveals it unsubtly, but who cares? It’s a good message and one that bears repeating as often as possible. So, here’s what you know so far: the wealthy are living lives of tremendous privilege in gated communities far removed from the rubble, who lead lives that barely worth living. These wealthy people and the police state take pride in preserving the status quo. One of the movie’s antagonists claims it is ultimate expression of “Darwinian capitalism.” He also says many must die to preserve the lives of the immortal. Um, could the message be anymore clear? No? OK, well, when the two leads begin robbing huge time banks that will probably clear everything up for you. *wink*
  • What’s better is Cillian Murphy playing a “Time Keeper,” who represents those members of the oppressed classes who are always ready to kick their fellow citizens in the face once they get a taste of ruling-class approval. It’s pretty profound now that I think of it.
  • The ghetto really does seem like a depressingly horrible place. Everything seemed so ugly, so joyless. But what was interesting was the rich community was joyless in its own slick, cloistered way. This is not a happy film.

I enjoyed the performances of just about everyone, but felt the romance between Justin Timberlake and Amanda Seyfried was out of place. It felt chemistry-less and forced. Their relationship would have resonated more had they found themselves becoming friends.

But, yeah, on balance, In Time is definitely worth a rent.

I also saw What’s Your Number? I know…romantic comedy…booooooo. But the movie’s premise was what got my ass in the seat: See this woman has to go and find all her ex-boyfriends, all who promised to be weird losers. Now tell me that is not recipe for KOOKINESS. Oh, I thought kookiness would be ensuing all over the place. ‘Cuz I assumed the film was essentially going to be an excuse to have talented comedienne Anna Farris doing kooky things with a series of famous funny guys doing cameos. And I just knew the kookiness would come and it would be SO FUNNY. Well, there was NO FUCKING KOOKINESS. Just mediocre acting, romantic comedy cliches and shlock. Horrible, horrible movie. I’m dumber for having watched it.

Why Aren’t Conservatives Funny?

Piggybacking on Thers’ post here, I just wanted to touch on this subject because it’s one that’s always fascinated me.

Firstly, I just want to throw out the fact that I know of few overtly political comedians. The only ones I can think of off the top of my head are Janeane Garafalo and Bill Maher. Ricky Gervais does some stuff on religion, but I don’t recall his act being ultra-political. That being said, the topic of bad airline food is a deeply divisive one. I understand this; emotions run deep.

The interesting thing about the guy’s list is that he makes a lot of the same points I would, only he gets everything wrong in expounding on them. In other words, it’s projection all the way down.

1. Comedy requires detachment and the ability to be self-effacing.

True. And if he’d ever watched any sitcom ever about or starring liberal-leaning folks, he’d know that self-effacing humor is pretty much 1000% of what those shows are comprised of. On Will and Grace–THE GAY SHOW–every character is neurotic, petty, shallow and vain.  On New Adventures of Old Christine, Christine is a divorced, dysfunctional, quivering mass of goofy neurosis. For god’s sake, the reason 30 Rock is so funny is because Liz–THE LIBERAL FEMINIST–is a complete doof who often fails to live up to her own bumper sticker liberal ideals. Jack, the–conveniently charming and likable–conservative is always proven to be right. In, like, every show. If that’s not a bunch of liberal, Jewy writers poking near-constant fun at themselves, I don’t know what is.

Liberals laugh at themselves ALL. THE. TIME. Fer instance, take the sketch on Portlandia about the humorless, oh-so-feminist book store owners. I find it pretty funny. I like it because it’s unabashedly silly. Hell, one of my favorite things to blurt out for humorous effect is “I BLAME THE PATRIARCHY!” Well, here’s the thing: I really do blame the patriarchy for a lot of stuff, but there’s something cathartic about poking gentle fun at feminist conventions, and sometimes I just enjoy laughing at myself, especially since I am fairly new to any sort of “structural” feminism.

 5. The Truth.

Exactly.  Good comedy has to be about truth. One of the reasons Louis C.K. is so incredibly funny is because every painful, cringe-worthy detail he shares about his life is relatable. If we haven’t had exact duplicates of his experiences, we’ve had experiences that evoked the same pain. And pain takes us a down an interesting road, because I think pain is necessarily rooted in truth.

I know it’s controversial, but it’s dead horse I beat again and again, because I deep down suspect it to to be true… At least one study–which I don’t feel like citing right now–claims that conservatives are happier than liberals. Whenever I bring this up, I always get (respectful) pushback, but it makes eminent sense to me. To  know truth is to know pain. The world is an ugly place, filled with ugly people and ugly things.

Here’s where I pull some anecdotal shit out of my ass: almost every liberal I know is a fucking wreck. You want issues? We’ve got more issues than a New York newsstand. Hey, it’s hard to live in a world filled with violence and goatse and morons. I’d much rather live in some pastoral fairyland, where everything’s green and gorgeous, and the sparkleponies frolic and burp minty rainbows. With some variation, this is the world wingnuts live in. (Only in Wingnut Fairyland, they are constantly defending the fairyland from the Gay/Feminist/Black/Muslim Pegasus of Doom.) They simply have no conception of what life is really like, of what’s going on outside their gated communities. And since some wingnuts are dirt poor, I mean “gated communities” in both a literal and figurative sense. Shit, I want to live in a fairyland too, where the sky is orange and everyone gets a free state-mandated Hello Kitty vibrator, but alas I am stuck with my blue-skied reality. And reality is often profoundly depressing.

I think most of the time comics do what they do because they’re combating depression. You have to laugh to keep from crying.

I know this is one of those *things* that gets to conservatives, because it’s yet another indication that in the pop culture wars, it’s not just that they’ve lost, it’s that their barrel of duck vaginas has been violated.

Buck up, wingnuts. Sure we’ve got Louis C.K. and Janeane Garafalo and Ellen Degeneres and George Carlin and Richard Pryor and Bill Hicks and Laura Kightlinger and David Cross…but look at it this way- You have these guys:

Lamp and Flower Casserole

More proof that Phineas and Ferb is just a straight-up great show…

Around 5:50 this morning, I’m sitting in bed with my son before we go down for bottle and diaper change –his, not mine…mine come later in the day–etc. So I turn on the TV and Phineas and Ferb is on. (It always is. I think it’s the only show they run on the Disney Channel.)

Moby Dick!

The modern-day Captain Ahab of our tale. She will bust her brothers or look silly trying!

Anyway, Candace is putting something foodish in the oven. Why, I don’t know– I only caught the tail-end of the show. She’s following a recipe that calls for a lamp and “2 cups of self-righteous flowers.”  Her best friend, Stacy, expresses doubt about Candace’s recipe, saying she doesn’t even know what self-righteous flowers are, to which Candace responds–HILARIOUSLY (because Candace is the best and funniest character and I’ll fight anyone who says otherwise)–that she always thought roses were pretty snooty. I’m sorry, but that is comedy platinum right there, even if the writers are on crack. Everybody knows that orchids are the snootiest flowers, what with their being high maintenance and their upturned stamens and stuff. They think they’re SO HOT. GOD, I HATE THEM SO MUCH!

Well, anyway, I’d be awfully surprised if the muse did not visit at least one of the writers in his dreams, tantalizing him with her beautiful, confusing, confounding poetry…