Thursday, December 18, 2008
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Home of the Pregnant Burrito
Also on the menu:
The Lactating Flan
The Menstruating Chimichanga
The Prematurely Ejaculating Churro
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Letter to Another Aspiring Screenwriter
A college friend living out of Los Angeles recently asked me to help him sell a pair of screenplays he has written. Here was my response:
I'm pleased that you believe me to be capable of selling screenplays through my efforts. I kind of feel like the Michael Rappaport character in True Romance. Yeah, sure, I live out here. But that doesn't necessarily mean that I can move a briefcase of cocaine, or a pair of screenplays.
Though if you have a briefcase of cocaine, feel free to send it. I don't know if I could sell it, and don't use it, but I could certainly move it up the noses of a lot of sexy chicks in exchange for gratifying my strong --- if dully conventional --- physical needs.
All I can offer is the same, hackneyed advice that everyone ever gives about the biz. Because it is true. And that is to make a list of agents and agencies and actors and producers and send them a copy and hope some of them get some flunky to read it. Really that's all that someone without writing credits can hope for.
All that connections and face-time really gets you is the ability to skip the flunky and get the script directly to the agent or star or producer or studio exec directly. In other words, to jump over a possible dead end. Then the script has to stand or fall on its merits.
There is another hackneyed bit of verbiage that gets thrown around the screenwriting world a lot here, and it is also true. If a great script were to be thrown out the window of a moving car on the 405, it would still get made and opened wide in two years.
There is a ravenous, insatiable, burning hunger in this town for great scripts. Great scripts are like the seed crystal that drops into a supersaturated solution, and immediately cause the other elements of a film to bond to them. Stars want to be in a great scripted film. Directors want to direct big stars. Producers want to make a movie with top directors and stars. Studios want to distribute a movie made by top producers, directors and stars. The audience duly lines up to go see The Prestige.
This is all true.
Those of us who are churning out words on paper, formatted with actions, characters and dialogue don't want to believe that this is true.
One, because we see films coming out to the theaters that fall far short of the "great script" standard.
And Two, because writing a great script is so fucking hard and we know we aren't doing it, and don't even really know if we want to do everything it takes to write one. Or if we can.
I mentioned True Romance up top. That was a great script. So was Pulp Fiction. For all his eventual excesses and indulgences, Tarantino has put down some strikingly fresh, original, smart, interesting stories down on paper. Stories that are informed and grounded in the time-tested principles of drama, yet break free of them in an exciting way. True Romance would have been made if it had been found under a bush in a lawn. So would Pulp Fiction.
I know that I'm not writing Pulp Fiction right now. I am, more or less admittedly, writing Stir of Echoes. But so what? It's only my second go at the form. By script six or seven I might be a bit closer to the mark I'm shooting for.
So, a neophyte screenwriter might wonder, how do all these sub-great scripts get made? And how, he might continue to wonder, could he get his bad Stir of Echoes clone turned into a film? This is where connections and favors and obligations and misjudgments and chance enter the picture. After all, the movie industry has to make movies. If there aren't enough great scripts to go around --- and there aren't --- other factors enter the selection process.
People that went to USC or NYU film school with decisionmakers prevail upon them to buy a script. TV writers have their agent push their feature film onto producers and execs for them. One decisionmaker buys a script he isn't in love with because he's making a marketing decision to capture a demographic he thinks will love it. Another decisionmaker has more money and power than taste. A third has a personal, political or social agenda he/she wants to push.
Sadly, you and I cannot count on those factors.
We simply haven't done the things in our life that would bend and tweak and push the system in our favor. We didn't know we were supposed to, for one thing. And we were busy doing other things for another.
So we just have to write a great script, send it into the world more or less through the usual channels, and see what happens. I've watched some people have what this industry calls success through this route. Typically, they've had one script get some buzz and interest, but nothing happen. Then a couple scripts get bought, but languish and expire afterwards. Then they pitch a ton of other scripts, get some rewrite jobs, and bang out a few more spec scripts. Then something gets made that disappears. Then, maybe, something gets made that people see and like. To be honest, the process looks an awful lot like work to me.
Alternatively, we could turn ourselves into a producer, and director, and craft services provider and make our films ourselves.
Believe me, I wish I had more to offer you than cliches and exhortations to work even harder for an uncertain reward, but I simply don't.
P.S. If you have not read The War of Art by Stephen Pressfield, I cannot recommend it more highly. Dude breaks it all down. Why we want to be creative, why we aren't, how we can be, and why we should.
I'm pleased that you believe me to be capable of selling screenplays through my efforts. I kind of feel like the Michael Rappaport character in True Romance. Yeah, sure, I live out here. But that doesn't necessarily mean that I can move a briefcase of cocaine, or a pair of screenplays.
Though if you have a briefcase of cocaine, feel free to send it. I don't know if I could sell it, and don't use it, but I could certainly move it up the noses of a lot of sexy chicks in exchange for gratifying my strong --- if dully conventional --- physical needs.
All I can offer is the same, hackneyed advice that everyone ever gives about the biz. Because it is true. And that is to make a list of agents and agencies and actors and producers and send them a copy and hope some of them get some flunky to read it. Really that's all that someone without writing credits can hope for.
All that connections and face-time really gets you is the ability to skip the flunky and get the script directly to the agent or star or producer or studio exec directly. In other words, to jump over a possible dead end. Then the script has to stand or fall on its merits.
There is another hackneyed bit of verbiage that gets thrown around the screenwriting world a lot here, and it is also true. If a great script were to be thrown out the window of a moving car on the 405, it would still get made and opened wide in two years.
There is a ravenous, insatiable, burning hunger in this town for great scripts. Great scripts are like the seed crystal that drops into a supersaturated solution, and immediately cause the other elements of a film to bond to them. Stars want to be in a great scripted film. Directors want to direct big stars. Producers want to make a movie with top directors and stars. Studios want to distribute a movie made by top producers, directors and stars. The audience duly lines up to go see The Prestige.
This is all true.
Those of us who are churning out words on paper, formatted with actions, characters and dialogue don't want to believe that this is true.
One, because we see films coming out to the theaters that fall far short of the "great script" standard.
And Two, because writing a great script is so fucking hard and we know we aren't doing it, and don't even really know if we want to do everything it takes to write one. Or if we can.
I mentioned True Romance up top. That was a great script. So was Pulp Fiction. For all his eventual excesses and indulgences, Tarantino has put down some strikingly fresh, original, smart, interesting stories down on paper. Stories that are informed and grounded in the time-tested principles of drama, yet break free of them in an exciting way. True Romance would have been made if it had been found under a bush in a lawn. So would Pulp Fiction.
I know that I'm not writing Pulp Fiction right now. I am, more or less admittedly, writing Stir of Echoes. But so what? It's only my second go at the form. By script six or seven I might be a bit closer to the mark I'm shooting for.
So, a neophyte screenwriter might wonder, how do all these sub-great scripts get made? And how, he might continue to wonder, could he get his bad Stir of Echoes clone turned into a film? This is where connections and favors and obligations and misjudgments and chance enter the picture. After all, the movie industry has to make movies. If there aren't enough great scripts to go around --- and there aren't --- other factors enter the selection process.
People that went to USC or NYU film school with decisionmakers prevail upon them to buy a script. TV writers have their agent push their feature film onto producers and execs for them. One decisionmaker buys a script he isn't in love with because he's making a marketing decision to capture a demographic he thinks will love it. Another decisionmaker has more money and power than taste. A third has a personal, political or social agenda he/she wants to push.
Sadly, you and I cannot count on those factors.
We simply haven't done the things in our life that would bend and tweak and push the system in our favor. We didn't know we were supposed to, for one thing. And we were busy doing other things for another.
So we just have to write a great script, send it into the world more or less through the usual channels, and see what happens. I've watched some people have what this industry calls success through this route. Typically, they've had one script get some buzz and interest, but nothing happen. Then a couple scripts get bought, but languish and expire afterwards. Then they pitch a ton of other scripts, get some rewrite jobs, and bang out a few more spec scripts. Then something gets made that disappears. Then, maybe, something gets made that people see and like. To be honest, the process looks an awful lot like work to me.
Alternatively, we could turn ourselves into a producer, and director, and craft services provider and make our films ourselves.
Believe me, I wish I had more to offer you than cliches and exhortations to work even harder for an uncertain reward, but I simply don't.
P.S. If you have not read The War of Art by Stephen Pressfield, I cannot recommend it more highly. Dude breaks it all down. Why we want to be creative, why we aren't, how we can be, and why we should.
O-Borg-Ma?
True. I can’t help myself from mutilating Obama’s name to make my silly writing points.
But seriously. Has anyone noticed that Obama has the uncanny habit of absorbing his former opponents into his organization?
Joe Biden, VP. Hilary, Secretary of State. Bill Richardson, Commerce Secretary. Republican-Picked, Surge-Supporting Robert Gates to stay on as Defence Secretary.
Indeed, say some progressives, Obama seems to prefer appointing people from the center and even center-right --- where the real challenges to his nomination came from, incidentally --- over the progressive and left elements who formed his earliest, loudest and most eager supporters.
Resistance, apparently, is not futile. It is rewarded.
Thursday, December 04, 2008
Eliot Spitzer: Columnist
Disgraced former NY District Attorney and Governor Eliot Spitzer has published his first column for Slate, in which he astutely criticizes the form that the taxpayer-funded bailout has taken. Whatever you may think of Spitzer, it's clear that the man recognizes a good fucking when he sees one.
Burger Assault
A South Florida man was arrested and charged with domestic violence for repeatedly smashing a McDonald's cheeseburger into his girlfriend's face.
The original charges of attempted murder were dropped when police determined that he was not trying to make her actually eat it.
The Jolie Bible
A new, illustrated version of the Bible has been released, which includes glossy photos of Angelina Jolie, cruelly placed right next to the chapters that tell you not to masturbate.
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
Sarah Palin's Book Contract
The publishing industry is abuzz with speculation about Sarah Palin's memoir sales.
Insiders say that if Gov. Palin writes a book, she would get paid $7 million dollars. Furthermore, if she reads one, she'll get $8 million.
Insiders say that if Gov. Palin writes a book, she would get paid $7 million dollars. Furthermore, if she reads one, she'll get $8 million.
College Too Expensive for Most American Families Now
A report has come out that trends making higher education more expensive and household income lower makes puts college out of reach for most American high school graduates.
That's the bad news. The good news is that they've just released "Girls Gone Wild: The Burger King Breakroom Edition."
That's the bad news. The good news is that they've just released "Girls Gone Wild: The Burger King Breakroom Edition."
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
America's Moment of Clarity: 21 Days Clean
It feels strange to me that election day was only three weeks ago. Usually, for me, three weeks is hardly any time at all. I have dishes sitting in my sink that have been there longer than three weeks. I have unopened mail sitting on my table older than three weeks.
But in the case of Obama’s election, November 4th seems like a long time ago. Like months past. Maybe even like something that happened last year.
I don’t know how to explain this warping in my sense of time’s passing.
Maybe it’s because I’m able to breathe again. To relax, knowing that George W. Bush and his gang of crooks, thugs, idiots and con artists are finally getting the boot. And that a smart, competent, sane, decent person has been put in charge again.
It goes even deeper than that, too. I feel like the country I live in remembers what is right and important again. The last eight years have been surreal for me, like I have been put in some sort of Bizarro World version of America, where all our values and priorities had been turned upside down.
Since 2000, I’ve wanted my country back. And now I feel like I have it.
What’s more, it’s even better than when I lost it. Maybe not financially, right now. Or militarily. But psychologically. Emotionally. Dare I even say it? Spiritually.
If America were a person --- a filthy, street-living, meth-addicted person --- I would say that we have hit bottom, had a moment of clarity and are poised to make an even stronger comeback. Because this time we’ve realized that our meth --- all the immediately-gratifying, short-term-thinking, status-quo-preserving shit we’ve been sucking on for decades --- really isn’t good for us. That it might have served us in the past, helping us pull all-nighters on our way up, but has ultimately brought us down to our current bedraggled state.
Though it took a bad beating to get us here, we might finally be at a point where we seriously consider how we are going to live without getting back on that shit again.
Here’s some of what we’re purging:
1) Racism. Things are different in America now. I saw it in the coalition that Obama put together to work for him. I saw it in the way that America voted. I saw it in the way that the people who didn’t vote for him more or less shrugged and shut up when he won.
I feel that something has truly changed in this country between how it was just 22 days ago. Heavy tectonic plates that have been grinding against one another for decades finally slipped three Tuesdays ago and we’re in a new landscape now.
A specific, personal example: I do standup comedy. I had written and told some jokes that used racial issues. Not in a derogatory, stereotype-perpetrating way, but in a way that exploited racial tensions for their humorous energy. For instance, here’s one that got big laughs up to November 1st.
Today, that joke --- and others like it --- is dead. Not because it’s offensive, but because the reality that supported it --- that of whites being reflexively nervous and afraid of darker skinned people --- simply doesn’t exist anymore in a country where the President is black. That battery is drained.
As much as I hate losing good jokes, this tectonic shift is a very big and awesome thing. Maybe the most big and awesome thing that has ever happened in this country.
2) Metastastized Financialization.
Michael Lewis, author of Liar’s Poker, tells this story better than I can in this article about our current financial debacle, and the two decades of insanity that preceded it.
Since I’ve been aware of America’s economy, I’ve been struck and worried by the outsized prominence that financial services has taken. And had a sneaking suspicion that that sector’s activities were not necessarily providing proportionate value to investors, economies or societies. After all, if there is any subject that I am an expert in, it is failing to provide adequate service to those counting on me.
I’ve also noted with alarm that a great deal of our economic “growth” takes the form of successive bubbles. In my adult life, I’ve watched a broad stock bubble grow and pop, a more narrowly focused Dotcom bubble grow and pop, and a real estate bubble grow and pop. And can’t help but notice that efforts to stimulate the economy after one pop --- i.e. low interest rates --- generally give rise to the next bubble.
I’ve felt like at some point we’ve got to make reforms more substantive than simply inflating the next financial instrument-led bubble to rise out of a recession. At long last it looks like serious thinkers and policymakers are considering what those reforms might be.
3) Dependence on Foreign Oil.
This summer’s stratospheric gas-prices that turned already-suffering American consumers upside down and shook all the money out of our pockets --- while loathsome Oil Execs and Traders enjoyed record profits and bonuses --- finally made believers out of us all. I think Americans realize that we can’t be so dependent on foreign oil suppliers going forward. And that developing a domestic source of energy is at least as vital to American interests --- and worthy of sustained effort and funding --- as picking up some moon rocks, or toppling a petty Middle East dictator.
4) Crazy Christian Bullshit
Yeah, this is a tough drug for America to put down. And it looked like we were going to relapse, when we got a look at that big pretty hunk of Alaskan Ice. But we did resist, and on January 21st we will officially be 100% Creationism-Free at the top levels of government. I’m so proud.
But in the case of Obama’s election, November 4th seems like a long time ago. Like months past. Maybe even like something that happened last year.
I don’t know how to explain this warping in my sense of time’s passing.
Maybe it’s because I’m able to breathe again. To relax, knowing that George W. Bush and his gang of crooks, thugs, idiots and con artists are finally getting the boot. And that a smart, competent, sane, decent person has been put in charge again.
It goes even deeper than that, too. I feel like the country I live in remembers what is right and important again. The last eight years have been surreal for me, like I have been put in some sort of Bizarro World version of America, where all our values and priorities had been turned upside down.
Since 2000, I’ve wanted my country back. And now I feel like I have it.
What’s more, it’s even better than when I lost it. Maybe not financially, right now. Or militarily. But psychologically. Emotionally. Dare I even say it? Spiritually.
If America were a person --- a filthy, street-living, meth-addicted person --- I would say that we have hit bottom, had a moment of clarity and are poised to make an even stronger comeback. Because this time we’ve realized that our meth --- all the immediately-gratifying, short-term-thinking, status-quo-preserving shit we’ve been sucking on for decades --- really isn’t good for us. That it might have served us in the past, helping us pull all-nighters on our way up, but has ultimately brought us down to our current bedraggled state.
America Looks Forward to Its Bright Future
Though it took a bad beating to get us here, we might finally be at a point where we seriously consider how we are going to live without getting back on that shit again.
Here’s some of what we’re purging:
1) Racism. Things are different in America now. I saw it in the coalition that Obama put together to work for him. I saw it in the way that America voted. I saw it in the way that the people who didn’t vote for him more or less shrugged and shut up when he won.
I feel that something has truly changed in this country between how it was just 22 days ago. Heavy tectonic plates that have been grinding against one another for decades finally slipped three Tuesdays ago and we’re in a new landscape now.
A specific, personal example: I do standup comedy. I had written and told some jokes that used racial issues. Not in a derogatory, stereotype-perpetrating way, but in a way that exploited racial tensions for their humorous energy. For instance, here’s one that got big laughs up to November 1st.
“A lot of whites think it’s hypocritical that white people can’t use the n-word, while blacks use it with each other all the time. But I don’t mind. Because white people have our own “n-word.” A word that we don’t mind using with one another, but that we get kind of uptight when we hear blacks and Mexicans call us. That word is “neighbor.””
Today, that joke --- and others like it --- is dead. Not because it’s offensive, but because the reality that supported it --- that of whites being reflexively nervous and afraid of darker skinned people --- simply doesn’t exist anymore in a country where the President is black. That battery is drained.
As much as I hate losing good jokes, this tectonic shift is a very big and awesome thing. Maybe the most big and awesome thing that has ever happened in this country.
2) Metastastized Financialization.
Michael Lewis, author of Liar’s Poker, tells this story better than I can in this article about our current financial debacle, and the two decades of insanity that preceded it.
Since I’ve been aware of America’s economy, I’ve been struck and worried by the outsized prominence that financial services has taken. And had a sneaking suspicion that that sector’s activities were not necessarily providing proportionate value to investors, economies or societies. After all, if there is any subject that I am an expert in, it is failing to provide adequate service to those counting on me.
I’ve also noted with alarm that a great deal of our economic “growth” takes the form of successive bubbles. In my adult life, I’ve watched a broad stock bubble grow and pop, a more narrowly focused Dotcom bubble grow and pop, and a real estate bubble grow and pop. And can’t help but notice that efforts to stimulate the economy after one pop --- i.e. low interest rates --- generally give rise to the next bubble.
I’ve felt like at some point we’ve got to make reforms more substantive than simply inflating the next financial instrument-led bubble to rise out of a recession. At long last it looks like serious thinkers and policymakers are considering what those reforms might be.
3) Dependence on Foreign Oil.
This summer’s stratospheric gas-prices that turned already-suffering American consumers upside down and shook all the money out of our pockets --- while loathsome Oil Execs and Traders enjoyed record profits and bonuses --- finally made believers out of us all. I think Americans realize that we can’t be so dependent on foreign oil suppliers going forward. And that developing a domestic source of energy is at least as vital to American interests --- and worthy of sustained effort and funding --- as picking up some moon rocks, or toppling a petty Middle East dictator.
4) Crazy Christian Bullshit
Yeah, this is a tough drug for America to put down. And it looked like we were going to relapse, when we got a look at that big pretty hunk of Alaskan Ice. But we did resist, and on January 21st we will officially be 100% Creationism-Free at the top levels of government. I’m so proud.
Friday, November 14, 2008
We Are All Even More Fucked
I have deliberately stayed away from commenting on this economic and financial catastrophe because I do not possess a great deal --- fuck, let’s just say any --- expertise in the world of global finance. Mortgage Backed Securities, Credit Default Swaps, monolines… for many years, these words were just chatter that my friends who worked in finance made to eachother while I tried to think of good fart jokes to tell and change the subject.*
But as I have watched Treasury Secretary Hank Paulson “handle” the crisis, I have decided that the financial catastrophe scenario is not really so much about the intricacies of the financial markets as it is about a couple of subjects that I can indeed claim a great deal of expertise in:
a) being over one’s head.
b) fucking up
c) trying desperately to hide a and b.
On Tuesday, Paulson announced that he wouldn’t be using the $700 billion taxpayers gave him to buy up dodgy mortgage backed securities after all.
Never mind that’s what he assured us, implored us, begged us to let him do that a scant two months ago. Now he is going to use that money to buy up bank stock to provide a capital injection, kind of like England did --- and critics of the whole toxic asset-purchase plan suggested in the first place. He has also let it slip that he’s considering other options as well.
In other words, dude is floundering.
This doesn’t look good for us.
In the long run, the US economy is made up of too many greedy, ravenous consumers and efficient, remorseless producers to really fail. I am confident that we will be prosperous, vulgar and insufferably arrogant again.
The only question is how long it will take us to get back there. Unfortunately, there is only one way to get there as soon as possible: do the right thing, at the right time, and with the right amount of firmness.
By that logic, there are many more ways to fuck up and delay our return to economic health.
We could do the wrong things. We could do the right things too late. We could even do the right things at the right time, but do them in a half-assed and unconvincing way. Economic actors hate uncertainty and risk, so if they don’t know how committed the government is to a course of action, then they aren’t going to move until that doubt is removed.
Right now, it looks like the lamest-possible-duck Bush team is failing in each of the three categories. By their own admission, they are doing the wrong things. They are wasting so much time doing these wrong things, that they are delaying doing the right things. And by reversing course and making changes, they are decreasing consumer and investor confidence.
Estimations of how long the credit/financial crisis and the economic slowdown would last are pretty much guesses in the first place. But every time the Government's "solution" has to shift like this, it’s safe to say that we can lengthen it out a bit more.
In other words, this Christmas, only the good little boys and girls will get coal in their stockings. Because that means they can have a few moments of warmth burning those coals in a converted coffee-can fireplace in front of the cardboard box they live in.
Next Christmas, they get nothing. Because they will have boiled and eaten their stockings to survive.
* Who am I kidding? All fart jokes are good.
But as I have watched Treasury Secretary Hank Paulson “handle” the crisis, I have decided that the financial catastrophe scenario is not really so much about the intricacies of the financial markets as it is about a couple of subjects that I can indeed claim a great deal of expertise in:
a) being over one’s head.
b) fucking up
c) trying desperately to hide a and b.
On Tuesday, Paulson announced that he wouldn’t be using the $700 billion taxpayers gave him to buy up dodgy mortgage backed securities after all.
Never mind that’s what he assured us, implored us, begged us to let him do that a scant two months ago. Now he is going to use that money to buy up bank stock to provide a capital injection, kind of like England did --- and critics of the whole toxic asset-purchase plan suggested in the first place. He has also let it slip that he’s considering other options as well.
In other words, dude is floundering.
This doesn’t look good for us.
In the long run, the US economy is made up of too many greedy, ravenous consumers and efficient, remorseless producers to really fail. I am confident that we will be prosperous, vulgar and insufferably arrogant again.
The only question is how long it will take us to get back there. Unfortunately, there is only one way to get there as soon as possible: do the right thing, at the right time, and with the right amount of firmness.
By that logic, there are many more ways to fuck up and delay our return to economic health.
We could do the wrong things. We could do the right things too late. We could even do the right things at the right time, but do them in a half-assed and unconvincing way. Economic actors hate uncertainty and risk, so if they don’t know how committed the government is to a course of action, then they aren’t going to move until that doubt is removed.
Right now, it looks like the lamest-possible-duck Bush team is failing in each of the three categories. By their own admission, they are doing the wrong things. They are wasting so much time doing these wrong things, that they are delaying doing the right things. And by reversing course and making changes, they are decreasing consumer and investor confidence.
Estimations of how long the credit/financial crisis and the economic slowdown would last are pretty much guesses in the first place. But every time the Government's "solution" has to shift like this, it’s safe to say that we can lengthen it out a bit more.
In other words, this Christmas, only the good little boys and girls will get coal in their stockings. Because that means they can have a few moments of warmth burning those coals in a converted coffee-can fireplace in front of the cardboard box they live in.
Next Christmas, they get nothing. Because they will have boiled and eaten their stockings to survive.
* Who am I kidding? All fart jokes are good.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Kudos to McCain
One has to admire the class that John McCain has shown in his concession speech and afterwards.
Though he seemed to lose his way in the campaign, once he no longer had any alternatives, options or possible actions he really seemed to shine as a person of grace and dignity.
I guess John McCain is just one of those people who is at his best when he has been put in a box.
Though he seemed to lose his way in the campaign, once he no longer had any alternatives, options or possible actions he really seemed to shine as a person of grace and dignity.
I guess John McCain is just one of those people who is at his best when he has been put in a box.
Monday, November 03, 2008
Saturday, November 01, 2008
Voting Day. And a Strange Compulsion
Since I will be out of town on Tuesday, I went to the County Registrar's Office in Norwalk to vote early.
After a one hour drive and a three hour wait, I finally got into a voting booth with a numbered ballot in front of me.
For just an instant, I had a powerful temptation to vote for John McCain. A temptation so strong that I actually envisioned myself filling in the numbered oval that corresponded to the McCain/Palin ticket.
This sudden compulsion unnerved me. I would never have imagined that a perverse thought could consume me so, even briefly. This strong and unexpected vision made me understand why people are tempted to have other people piss on them or fuck barnyard animals. A person can get a very real and illicit thrill from doing something that violates a deep, ingrained moral conviction. There is no arguing the fact that breaking a taboo is exciting.
Still, I didn't do it.
Vote for John McCain, that is.
I did let someone piss on me, though. And fucked a barnyard animal tonight. In fact, I sexually ravaged an entire petting zoo. Including a mohair goat, a Vietnamese potbelly pig, and an extremely well-hung Shetland pony. Then I had my exertion-spawned sweat hosed off by the urine of a homeless man who has been eating nothing but asparagus and B vitamins the last three days.
A man has to get his kicks where he can.
But vote Republican? Hey, I'm not some kind of sicko.
After a one hour drive and a three hour wait, I finally got into a voting booth with a numbered ballot in front of me.
For just an instant, I had a powerful temptation to vote for John McCain. A temptation so strong that I actually envisioned myself filling in the numbered oval that corresponded to the McCain/Palin ticket.
This sudden compulsion unnerved me. I would never have imagined that a perverse thought could consume me so, even briefly. This strong and unexpected vision made me understand why people are tempted to have other people piss on them or fuck barnyard animals. A person can get a very real and illicit thrill from doing something that violates a deep, ingrained moral conviction. There is no arguing the fact that breaking a taboo is exciting.
Still, I didn't do it.
Vote for John McCain, that is.
I did let someone piss on me, though. And fucked a barnyard animal tonight. In fact, I sexually ravaged an entire petting zoo. Including a mohair goat, a Vietnamese potbelly pig, and an extremely well-hung Shetland pony. Then I had my exertion-spawned sweat hosed off by the urine of a homeless man who has been eating nothing but asparagus and B vitamins the last three days.
A man has to get his kicks where he can.
But vote Republican? Hey, I'm not some kind of sicko.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Obama's Slow Reveal
Though I fully intend to vote for Barrack Obama, I’m nothing at all like a True Believer.
For me, a vote for Barrack is a vote against John McCain and the Republican party. That is enough.
For some reason I don’t get a warm and tingly feeling in my tummy when I listen to Barrack speak. Never have. Even though so many of the people who I agree with and love and respect do get that feeling.
Truth be told, listening to him speak actually makes me like him less. He seems too good, too earnest, too squeaky-clean and upright and honorable to be true. I got a bit excited when I learned, early in the primary, that he smoked cigarettes. “Yes” I thought, “a flaw. Something dirty and stupid and self-destructive and weak. How he's more like me. Now I can relate.” Then he quit smoking.
Maybe I’m cynical, or simply too morally compromised myself to recognize a genuine idealist when I see one. But when I am listening to one of his speeches --- or attempting to read one of his books --- it just sounds too much like myself when I’m trying to impress an old lady.
And I think even the most fervent supporter should be able to admit --- even if only privately, in the secrecy of their own Prius with all the windows rolled up --- that if someone doesn’t get that tingle from Obama's words, then Obama doesn’t offer a whole lot else.
His resume, though impressive in its accomplishments, is thin. Let's just be honest and admit that.
If the Republicans have gotten traction out of any message, it is that we don’t know who this guy is. Because we don’t. He hasn’t been around for decades to become a known and familiar quality.
He spoke at the Democratic Convention in 2004, won the Senate Race in 2006 and didn't really get scrutinized until Spring of 2008.
What’s more, even as we have seen him, we still don’t know him. His policies are vague, amorphous promises to do everything good and nothing bad. His political philosophy is middle-of-the-road, let's-bridge-differences, can't-we-all-get-along blandness.
During his tightly-scripted campaign appearances, he hasn’t revealed much of psyche to us. Ever. Nothing seems to to jangle his nerves or dislodge that smile. Not once has emotion --- joy, frustration or anger --- get the better of his self-control in some sort of physical way. No tears. No pulsing veins in the temple. No spontaneous fist-pumps. Not when his old pastor stabbed him in the back. Not when he went to visit his “gravely ill” grandmother. Not when he accepted the freaking Democratic nomination for the President of the United States.
Compared to the incredible mass of tics and grimaces and eyerolls that McCain has become, this calm is reassuring. But still, Obama’s calm affability keeps his character hidden from us, as does his campaign's SuperGlue adherence the official campaign message.
That’s why, for me, the campaign is doubly important. Not only does it hopefully move a Democrat into the White House, but it gives us a real --- so far the only real --- insight into how Barrack Obama operates.
And I like what I see so far.
Like how he has tricked McCain and turned him into a whining crying little bitch-baby.
From Politico.com
I fucking love it. To somehow get the Republican party candidate to voluntarily give up the one advantage it perennially has --- the ability to raise lots of cash. That’s awesome.
And to see McCain reduced to whining about it to Larry King. Delicious. I thought Republicans were supposed to be the tough guys.
“Didn’t tell the American people the truth” McCain snivelled. Uh, John. He told us that he was going to do what he had to do to get elected. It’s possible that he didn’t tell you the truth about taking public financing. More fool you, sucker. So now you’re counting your pennies, while Obama is free to swamp your message. I love it.
It should be said that I don’t know for sure if Obama double-crossed McCain or not. And I don’t really care. Actually, I do care. I hope that he did double cross McCain. I hope he burned McCain like a match.
There’s a sports saying that goes “if you ain’t cheating, you ain’t trying.” After watching Gore and Kerry take the high road to electoral defeat, I’m glad we have another Democrat that is trying to win, and willing to do everything that means. Including cheat. Especially cheat. After the dirty tricks that Republicans pull every four years with voter registration lists and robo-calls and character assassinations, a little Democratic cheating only means we're playing the same game.
Also, I want to see some dirt inside Obama, just so I’ll know he’s for real. A genuine goody-two-shoes is beyond my capacity to comprehend. But a fake goody-two-shoes exterior that hides a shrewd, calculating, ruthless interior? That I understand. And approve. In fact, it's starting to give me a warm tingly feeling in my stomach.
For me, a vote for Barrack is a vote against John McCain and the Republican party. That is enough.
For some reason I don’t get a warm and tingly feeling in my tummy when I listen to Barrack speak. Never have. Even though so many of the people who I agree with and love and respect do get that feeling.
Truth be told, listening to him speak actually makes me like him less. He seems too good, too earnest, too squeaky-clean and upright and honorable to be true. I got a bit excited when I learned, early in the primary, that he smoked cigarettes. “Yes” I thought, “a flaw. Something dirty and stupid and self-destructive and weak. How he's more like me. Now I can relate.” Then he quit smoking.
Maybe I’m cynical, or simply too morally compromised myself to recognize a genuine idealist when I see one. But when I am listening to one of his speeches --- or attempting to read one of his books --- it just sounds too much like myself when I’m trying to impress an old lady.
And I think even the most fervent supporter should be able to admit --- even if only privately, in the secrecy of their own Prius with all the windows rolled up --- that if someone doesn’t get that tingle from Obama's words, then Obama doesn’t offer a whole lot else.
His resume, though impressive in its accomplishments, is thin. Let's just be honest and admit that.
If the Republicans have gotten traction out of any message, it is that we don’t know who this guy is. Because we don’t. He hasn’t been around for decades to become a known and familiar quality.
He spoke at the Democratic Convention in 2004, won the Senate Race in 2006 and didn't really get scrutinized until Spring of 2008.
What’s more, even as we have seen him, we still don’t know him. His policies are vague, amorphous promises to do everything good and nothing bad. His political philosophy is middle-of-the-road, let's-bridge-differences, can't-we-all-get-along blandness.
During his tightly-scripted campaign appearances, he hasn’t revealed much of psyche to us. Ever. Nothing seems to to jangle his nerves or dislodge that smile. Not once has emotion --- joy, frustration or anger --- get the better of his self-control in some sort of physical way. No tears. No pulsing veins in the temple. No spontaneous fist-pumps. Not when his old pastor stabbed him in the back. Not when he went to visit his “gravely ill” grandmother. Not when he accepted the freaking Democratic nomination for the President of the United States.
Compared to the incredible mass of tics and grimaces and eyerolls that McCain has become, this calm is reassuring. But still, Obama’s calm affability keeps his character hidden from us, as does his campaign's SuperGlue adherence the official campaign message.
That’s why, for me, the campaign is doubly important. Not only does it hopefully move a Democrat into the White House, but it gives us a real --- so far the only real --- insight into how Barrack Obama operates.
And I like what I see so far.
Like how he has tricked McCain and turned him into a whining crying little bitch-baby.
From Politico.com
Obama’s move to blanket multiple channels less than a week before the election was made possible by his decision to forgo participation in the public financing system for presidential campaigns.
The campaign spent between $4 million and $5 million to air the ad on NBC, CBS, Fox News and several other cable channels. McCain stayed within the public financing system, and has been limited to a budget of $85 million. In contrast, Obama raised $150 million in September alone.
Appearing Wednesday on CNN’s “Larry King Live,” McCain said the infomercial was “paid for with broken promises.” Obama “didn’t tell the American people the truth” when he claimed during the primary that he would negotiate in good faith on a course to public financing, he said.
I fucking love it. To somehow get the Republican party candidate to voluntarily give up the one advantage it perennially has --- the ability to raise lots of cash. That’s awesome.
And to see McCain reduced to whining about it to Larry King. Delicious. I thought Republicans were supposed to be the tough guys.
“Didn’t tell the American people the truth” McCain snivelled. Uh, John. He told us that he was going to do what he had to do to get elected. It’s possible that he didn’t tell you the truth about taking public financing. More fool you, sucker. So now you’re counting your pennies, while Obama is free to swamp your message. I love it.
It should be said that I don’t know for sure if Obama double-crossed McCain or not. And I don’t really care. Actually, I do care. I hope that he did double cross McCain. I hope he burned McCain like a match.
There’s a sports saying that goes “if you ain’t cheating, you ain’t trying.” After watching Gore and Kerry take the high road to electoral defeat, I’m glad we have another Democrat that is trying to win, and willing to do everything that means. Including cheat. Especially cheat. After the dirty tricks that Republicans pull every four years with voter registration lists and robo-calls and character assassinations, a little Democratic cheating only means we're playing the same game.
Also, I want to see some dirt inside Obama, just so I’ll know he’s for real. A genuine goody-two-shoes is beyond my capacity to comprehend. But a fake goody-two-shoes exterior that hides a shrewd, calculating, ruthless interior? That I understand. And approve. In fact, it's starting to give me a warm tingly feeling in my stomach.
Friday, October 24, 2008
more standup from the fbomber
Joe the Plumber has become a conservative icon. Because, apparently, there are many Republicans out there who find Sarah Palin to be a little too intelligent and sophisticated to really get behind.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Movie Review: Religulous
To my mind, Bill Maher is a national treasure. He’s one of the best comedians working today, and he is willing to use his considerable talents to fearlessly and loudly speak his mind. The fact that I agree with about 90% of his views --- he loses me at vegetarianism --- probably helps a lot. Not surprisingly, I loved Religulous.
For starters, the film is legitimately funny.
Maher starts at the physical site of Armeggedon and delves into organized religion’s heart of … well, not exactly darkness… more like silliness. A truck-stop church in a trailer. The Bible Land theme park. An anti-Zionist rabbi. A chubby Puerto Rican who claims to be Jesus Christ. An Israeli institute for creating Sabbath-law-circumventing gizmos. A fit, trim, very-well-groomed ex-gay. A creationism museum. An extraordinarily-full-of-shit Islamic rapper.
Though Maher goes into the project with a definite agenda, he is respectful enough to let the people he’s mocking do most of the work of making themselves look silly themselves. The resulting humor is more subtle than one might expect, mostly earned by the reactions and glances and tone of the interviews.
He also spends considerable time in thoughtful conversation with his family and others about the subject of faith, and belief. And whether people would or would not be better off without it.
It’s a lot of fun and definitely gives the viewer plenty to think about.
In the final two or three minutes, though, Mahar drops the levity. And the hammer.
The silly movie clips stop. The fun music ends. Shit gets serious. Maher matter-of-factly delivers the central message of the film in stark and electrifying terms. The three main monotheistic religions ---Christianity, Judaism, Islam --- all explicitly and rapturously predict and End of World cataclysm of destruction and death. For humanity to embrace these religions while simultaneously possessing the means to bring them about --- nukes and pollution --- endangers all our lives.
It’s a powerful ending to an entertaining and insightful… documentary? No. Comedy? Not really. Filmic essay? Yeah, that.
That said, I do have a problem with it. Two, actually.
First, I don’t think he goes far enough with his condemnation of organized religion. And, though I wouldn’t expect all religious foolishness to get equal time, the victims of his expose don’t get equal whacks from Maher’s mockery-stick. Second, I think Maher gives human nature too much credit, believing that chucking organized religion would fundamentally improve humanity’s chances of survival.
To make a gross and highly distorting generalization, Maher’s encounters and conversations with representatives of the three monotheistic religions can be summed up thusly.
1. Christianity has a Saying Stupid Shit problem.
2. Judaism has a Following Silly Rules problem.
3. Islam has a Killing People problem.
In reality, fundamentalist Christians and Jews do things much worse than spout off nonsense and create religious-law-loophole-defying devices. Though they don’t go for the kind of mass, frenzied blood-rallies that Muslims do over cartoons and books --- if you happen to cross them over something really important to them, they will gladly murder you for it in God’s loving name.
Just look at the abortion doctors gaffled in the U.S. or assassinated Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin for examples of the Christian and Jewish faith taken to the deadly extreme. Though I understand his desire to keep things light, I wish that he’d taken the gloves off a little bit more with these lunatics.
Secondly, Maher’s solution --- or rather plea --- is for humanity to simply get over religion. He implies that with that silly, superstitious, violence-encouraging deadweight off our collective neck, we could use our rationality and logic to create a better, more livable, more sustainable world.
I wish.
Personally, I happen to think that the problem isn’t religion. It’s people.
Again, specifically, the problem is the three-quarters of humanity occupying the less-than-prime territory on the fbomber’s Heart-Brain Quadrant.
The Smart & Mean quartile is always going to try to run things, the Dumb & Mean quartile is going to obey them, the Sweet & Dumb crowd will look confused and the Nice & Smart set will gnash their teeth while watching impotently.
For some time now, the Smart & Mean group has used religion as mind-control to ensure a docile and obedient population. But religion is by no means the only possible method. Other belief-systems have worked just as well.
The godless Communists of the Soviet Union and China each wasted a substantial of their own population without having to pray over it. The Nazis combined nationalism, a weird racial superstition and a dash of Darwin to justify treating millions of people like animals to slaughter. Pol Pot’s massacres were inspired in part by the Greek Philosopher Plato’s belief that anyone over ten years old was already too tainted to help build an ideal society. In the fbomber’s adopted home of Los Angeles people regularly get killed for going into the wrong neighborhood --- without religion’s help.
Which I think proves that it’s the mean people and stupid people who have to go, not their imaginary friend, God.
What’s my solution to that problem?
It’s radical, but simple. Make a single, strategic purchase at a hardware store. Then wait.
The most irretrievably Mean & Stupid people among us historically do a pretty good job of taking themselves out of the population without any help --- through wars, suicide bombings and driving Ford F-150s drunk on Wild Turkey.
Lately, however, they’ve greatly accelerated their removal process even more. Not through violence, though. Through architecture.
Above all other thing, Mean & Dumb people love to all get together in big groups to be stupid assholes in front of one another. And indulge in frenzied, showy rituals of empty self-congratulation.
Go to any backwards, unlivable shithole in the world --- right now, I am specifically thinking of Houston, Texas --- and the biggest, most impressive buildings in town aren’t going to be the hospitals, libraries, universities and City Halls. You know, those drab, neglected places where actual service to the community and improvement of the mind happen.
No, the shiniest, most capacious structures in town are going to be places for the Mean and Stupid to get together in mass numbers for high-volume, emotionally-charged, intellectually-vacant exercises in tribal reinforcement. In the Western world, that means churches, and their new incarnation, Mega-Churches --- or their secular equivalent, sports stadiums.
In the Muslim world, the biggest enclosed gathering places are mosques capable of holding thousands of kneeling, ass-raising worshippers at a time.
In Israel, the religious fanatics have taken a different path. Instead of individual buildings, they’ve built a single wall for themselves around the entire city of Jerusalem and much of their country so they can hide from the other religious fanatics.
The Mean & Stupid pack into these structures on a regular basis to hoot and holler and parade their unthinking loyalty to tribe. The Smart & Mean show up --- in a more comfortable and expensive section, naturally --- to exercise leadership and cement “regular guy” credentials. Lastly, the Sweet & Dumb crowd tags along too, just to see what all the excitement is about.
Historically, the Nice & Smart crowd has distrusted these large rally-type settings and stayed away. And for good reason. They know that if you get enough amped-up retards in one place, someone --- probably someone wearing glasses and carrying a book --- is going to wind up getting hurt badly. Consequently the Smart & Nice crowd has sniffed disdainfully, and tried to disparage this kind of indoor herd migration. Maher’s movie is an example of this disparagement.
But I think this is the wrong idea.
Instead of being discouraged, all the dummies and assholes of the world should be encouraged --- nay, exhorted --- to fill these churches, stadiums, mosques, synagogues and gymnasiums as often as possible. And in as large numbers as the buildings can physically hold. And to yell and stamp and chant moronic slogans as much as their ignorant, hateful hearts desire.
Because buildings have walls. And walls have doors.
And the Smart & Nice people --- if they have followed my advice and gone to the hardware store --- have padlocks to put on those doors.
From the outside.
For starters, the film is legitimately funny.
Maher starts at the physical site of Armeggedon and delves into organized religion’s heart of … well, not exactly darkness… more like silliness. A truck-stop church in a trailer. The Bible Land theme park. An anti-Zionist rabbi. A chubby Puerto Rican who claims to be Jesus Christ. An Israeli institute for creating Sabbath-law-circumventing gizmos. A fit, trim, very-well-groomed ex-gay. A creationism museum. An extraordinarily-full-of-shit Islamic rapper.
Though Maher goes into the project with a definite agenda, he is respectful enough to let the people he’s mocking do most of the work of making themselves look silly themselves. The resulting humor is more subtle than one might expect, mostly earned by the reactions and glances and tone of the interviews.
He also spends considerable time in thoughtful conversation with his family and others about the subject of faith, and belief. And whether people would or would not be better off without it.
It’s a lot of fun and definitely gives the viewer plenty to think about.
In the final two or three minutes, though, Mahar drops the levity. And the hammer.
The silly movie clips stop. The fun music ends. Shit gets serious. Maher matter-of-factly delivers the central message of the film in stark and electrifying terms. The three main monotheistic religions ---Christianity, Judaism, Islam --- all explicitly and rapturously predict and End of World cataclysm of destruction and death. For humanity to embrace these religions while simultaneously possessing the means to bring them about --- nukes and pollution --- endangers all our lives.
It’s a powerful ending to an entertaining and insightful… documentary? No. Comedy? Not really. Filmic essay? Yeah, that.
That said, I do have a problem with it. Two, actually.
First, I don’t think he goes far enough with his condemnation of organized religion. And, though I wouldn’t expect all religious foolishness to get equal time, the victims of his expose don’t get equal whacks from Maher’s mockery-stick. Second, I think Maher gives human nature too much credit, believing that chucking organized religion would fundamentally improve humanity’s chances of survival.
To make a gross and highly distorting generalization, Maher’s encounters and conversations with representatives of the three monotheistic religions can be summed up thusly.
1. Christianity has a Saying Stupid Shit problem.
2. Judaism has a Following Silly Rules problem.
3. Islam has a Killing People problem.
In reality, fundamentalist Christians and Jews do things much worse than spout off nonsense and create religious-law-loophole-defying devices. Though they don’t go for the kind of mass, frenzied blood-rallies that Muslims do over cartoons and books --- if you happen to cross them over something really important to them, they will gladly murder you for it in God’s loving name.
Just look at the abortion doctors gaffled in the U.S. or assassinated Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin for examples of the Christian and Jewish faith taken to the deadly extreme. Though I understand his desire to keep things light, I wish that he’d taken the gloves off a little bit more with these lunatics.
Secondly, Maher’s solution --- or rather plea --- is for humanity to simply get over religion. He implies that with that silly, superstitious, violence-encouraging deadweight off our collective neck, we could use our rationality and logic to create a better, more livable, more sustainable world.
I wish.
Personally, I happen to think that the problem isn’t religion. It’s people.
Again, specifically, the problem is the three-quarters of humanity occupying the less-than-prime territory on the fbomber’s Heart-Brain Quadrant.
The Smart & Mean quartile is always going to try to run things, the Dumb & Mean quartile is going to obey them, the Sweet & Dumb crowd will look confused and the Nice & Smart set will gnash their teeth while watching impotently.
For some time now, the Smart & Mean group has used religion as mind-control to ensure a docile and obedient population. But religion is by no means the only possible method. Other belief-systems have worked just as well.
The godless Communists of the Soviet Union and China each wasted a substantial of their own population without having to pray over it. The Nazis combined nationalism, a weird racial superstition and a dash of Darwin to justify treating millions of people like animals to slaughter. Pol Pot’s massacres were inspired in part by the Greek Philosopher Plato’s belief that anyone over ten years old was already too tainted to help build an ideal society. In the fbomber’s adopted home of Los Angeles people regularly get killed for going into the wrong neighborhood --- without religion’s help.
Which I think proves that it’s the mean people and stupid people who have to go, not their imaginary friend, God.
What’s my solution to that problem?
It’s radical, but simple. Make a single, strategic purchase at a hardware store. Then wait.
The most irretrievably Mean & Stupid people among us historically do a pretty good job of taking themselves out of the population without any help --- through wars, suicide bombings and driving Ford F-150s drunk on Wild Turkey.
Lately, however, they’ve greatly accelerated their removal process even more. Not through violence, though. Through architecture.
Above all other thing, Mean & Dumb people love to all get together in big groups to be stupid assholes in front of one another. And indulge in frenzied, showy rituals of empty self-congratulation.
Go to any backwards, unlivable shithole in the world --- right now, I am specifically thinking of Houston, Texas --- and the biggest, most impressive buildings in town aren’t going to be the hospitals, libraries, universities and City Halls. You know, those drab, neglected places where actual service to the community and improvement of the mind happen.
No, the shiniest, most capacious structures in town are going to be places for the Mean and Stupid to get together in mass numbers for high-volume, emotionally-charged, intellectually-vacant exercises in tribal reinforcement. In the Western world, that means churches, and their new incarnation, Mega-Churches --- or their secular equivalent, sports stadiums.
In the Muslim world, the biggest enclosed gathering places are mosques capable of holding thousands of kneeling, ass-raising worshippers at a time.
In Israel, the religious fanatics have taken a different path. Instead of individual buildings, they’ve built a single wall for themselves around the entire city of Jerusalem and much of their country so they can hide from the other religious fanatics.
The Mean & Stupid pack into these structures on a regular basis to hoot and holler and parade their unthinking loyalty to tribe. The Smart & Mean show up --- in a more comfortable and expensive section, naturally --- to exercise leadership and cement “regular guy” credentials. Lastly, the Sweet & Dumb crowd tags along too, just to see what all the excitement is about.
Historically, the Nice & Smart crowd has distrusted these large rally-type settings and stayed away. And for good reason. They know that if you get enough amped-up retards in one place, someone --- probably someone wearing glasses and carrying a book --- is going to wind up getting hurt badly. Consequently the Smart & Nice crowd has sniffed disdainfully, and tried to disparage this kind of indoor herd migration. Maher’s movie is an example of this disparagement.
But I think this is the wrong idea.
Instead of being discouraged, all the dummies and assholes of the world should be encouraged --- nay, exhorted --- to fill these churches, stadiums, mosques, synagogues and gymnasiums as often as possible. And in as large numbers as the buildings can physically hold. And to yell and stamp and chant moronic slogans as much as their ignorant, hateful hearts desire.
Because buildings have walls. And walls have doors.
And the Smart & Nice people --- if they have followed my advice and gone to the hardware store --- have padlocks to put on those doors.
From the outside.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
More fbomber stand-up
The Republicans believed that the Presidential debates would be "game-changers."
They were right, but unfortunately for McCain-Palin, the game changed to Street Basketball.
They were right, but unfortunately for McCain-Palin, the game changed to Street Basketball.
fbomber standup
This Presidential election has taken an ugly racial turn lately. John McCain has changed his campaign slogan to "America: Do You Really Want to 'Never Go Back?'"
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