Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Mighty Saku the Weed Wacker


This is Sakuraba Kazushi, one of the most loved and respected mixed martial arts fighters of all time. He is known as "The Gracie Hunter" for having fought and defeated some of the most feared fighters in the Gracie family. He is goofy and brings a wonderfully lighthearted sense of humor to a decidedly brutal sport. He also has some incredible moves, and if you get the chance, I'd highly recommend you look for DVDs of the early Pride F/C matches he fought in.

When my girlfriend and I got our first guinea pig, we thought long and hard about what to name him. We didn't want to go with the usual cutesy crap, and it dawned on me. Saku. Trust me, it fits the lil guy's personality, and I would hope that Sakuraba-san would approve.

This is clip of Saku going medieval on some organic dandelion greens. So far he nibbles away at most anything, but lordamighty, he inhaled the weeds.

video

Cute lil booger, isn't he?

Monday, November 3, 2008

Never Kick Someone When They're Down. Get Them in a Kimura

Lord I try and be chivalrous, and there are paragons that I aspire to, and rather than give in to the obvious temptation to kick a beeyatch when she's down, make an object lesson out of them. A painfully elaborate and Tarrantino-esque object lesson. The kind of object lesson that ED-209 was used for in the beginning of "RoboCop." Gov. Palin Twinkie, this is for you in earnest hopes that you make the most of your community college education and settle into a life of a truck stop waitress. Lord knows you are not nearly as sophisticated as Sen. Ted Stevens, and look where that moron is headed. I know damned well that he's not going to get cornholed in prison along with the other CONVICTED FELONS, but we can hope his ass becomes the Bridge to Nowhere, eh?

While I am not a Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu student, I and my girlfriend are mixed martial arts enthusiasts and have followed Pride, K-1, UFC, and other promotions avidly. One of the most feared moves is the Kimura lock (gyaku ude-garami). There's a particularly nice illustration of it at Grapplearts. I'm dying to take a practical martial art like Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, and I can only imagine how much pain and damage something like this would do to an opponent. Let's unleash a figurative Kimura (or even better yet - a Crucifix) on Gov. Twinkie so the dumb bitch is reduced to a blubbering mess. Gov. Twinkie has not elected to take the high road, nor has she proven that she can take simple orders or abide by her position in the election. I would like to believe that Sen. McCain is capable of some of the steaming bullshit campaign promises he's put forth, but this guy makes Ronald Wilson Reagan look brilliant.

And Reagan thought Ketchup was a vegetable. By the way, did you know that if you rearrange the letters in "Ronald Wilson Reagan," you can spell "Insane Anglo Warlord?"

So, let's do to Gov. Twinkie what the Allied Forces did to Omaha Beach. Attacking her because of her children and their shortcomings is not cool. The kids are obviously of flawed character, and while it would be easy to use her kids as political liabilities, that does not address the fact that if Sarah Palin is a dumb fucking parasite in public office. I would be happier than a pig in shit if she were removed from public office and became as relevant to American politics as Lyndon Larouche.

Sarah Palin is about as sophisticated as a Stuckey's Pecan Log. A bipartisan panel found her guilty of abusing her power. The dumb bitch tries to cry foul and use the 1st Amendment as a defense against criticism. Umm... no bitch, The 1st Amendment doesn't protect that. A humanities and liberal arts education does, but then again, she wouldn't know much about education. Walking around in a one piece bathing suit and fuck-me pumps, yes. Shooting an animal with a high powered rifle and a scope from an elevated and advantageous position, yes. Understanding the application of that festering mass between her ears? Hell fucking no.

Take a look at this list of her highlights from Who Sucks. Certainly it is incomplete, but I hope that if this dumb bitch thinks she's ready to step into the political arena Octagon, then she should be ready to receive the asswhooping of her life.

Sunday, November 2, 2008

I'm NOT with Stupid

Before I get started, I feel it important in the interest of full disclosure that I was not the best overall student, nor had I made the most of my academic promise. I feel I owe a great apology to my parents for fighting and working to provide me with all the opportunities and support they could muster. I am not a simpleton (angry or otherwise), but I am certainly not everything I could be. Mom & Dad, sorry about that.

With less than 30 hours before the next US Presidential election, you may wonder why I would start off with such a personal confession. I strongly believe that my familiarity with failure gives me a painfully sharp perspective on why it is vitally important to make sure that we as a nation take a firm stance prohibiting fucking morons from public office. It's one thing to squander your resources. It's a different and worse thing altogether to fuck over generations of people because of your shortcomings.

Sen. McCain's campaign has often made attacks on Sen. Obama's character portraying him as elitist with great aspirations but little experience and great shortcomings. Let's take a look at Sen. McCain, shall we? He is a 3rd Generation US Naval Officer. Both his father and his grandfather were 4 Star US Navy Admirals. There is only one rank higher than that, and it is reserved for use in formal war. With that kind of military pedigree, John McCain's career in the military should have been idiot-proof, but Johnny was that rare idiot who could fuck up a family dynasty. McCain entered the US Naval Academy as a legacy with a golden ticket. Out of a class of 899, he held a class rank of 894. There were only 5 people more inadequate than him. His early career as a Naval Aviator is marred by a partying reputation as well as crashing twice and colliding with power lines.

While his time as a POW in the Vietnam War is well known, what isn't terribly well known is that while he suffered two broken arms and a broken leg prior to capture, the only reason he received medical care during his beatings and interrogation was that the North Vietnamese had learned that his father was a top US Naval Admiral. If it weren't for his family, he wouldn't be puttering around today.

Throughout his 25 years in the US Congress, he has had many achievements and many scandals including voting against the creation of a federal Martin Luther King, jr. holiday, being one of the infamous "Keating 5"during the Lincoln Savings & Loan scandal, and of his North Vietnamese captors, he said "I hate the gooks." He was adamantly unapologetic... up until it dawned on his wizened noggin that gee, maybe Asian-Americans might be offended at his blatant racism, and that might hurt his chances for a run at the Oval Office.

Sen. McCain has distanced himself from this gaffe and while Irwin Tang wrote about this episode in his book Gook: John McCain's Racism and Why It Matters," I have to seriously question whether or not we need someone with such gross shortcomings of judgement in a decision making position that could and has affected the lives of others. In short, this racist motherfucker shouldn't have been let out of the Hanoi Hilton. He wouldn't be anywhere if it weren't for his family and his rich trophy wife.

But rather than focus on a racist idiot like Sen. McCain, I want to focus on this stigmata of a well-educated person as an elitist in this country. Why is it that a man who graduates from Columbia University, works for the New York chapter of the Public Interest Research Group, and graduates from Harvard Law School magna cum laude an elitist? He fought to get to where he is,and he didn't have two generations of family history to fall back on. Sen. Obama may not have 25 years of time in the US Congress, but given the state of the Nation today, is that really so bad? I have lived through the roughest 8 years of my life with a sub-standard (and that's being generous) simpleton in the Oval Office. Why is it that we praise the individual who kicks ass and takes names on the gridiron, racks up trophies and Super Bowl rings, and we call the individual with a slew of academic achievements a nerd? When's the last time being a nerd was a good thing?

I genuinely think that what this nation needs right now is a President who is smarter than his cabinet instead of the other way around. We need not only President Obama, but more people like him who have shown a passion for excellence and civic pride and duty.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Tour de Buhdonkudonk



I almost missed this one, but thank god I had my digital camera on me at the time. Lining up the shot was hard enough because I didn't want to look terribly obvious in a "HOLY MOTHER OF NICK NOLTE! WHAT THE BLESSED FUCK IS THAT?"-state of mind.

Damn, I need another drink.

Friday, October 3, 2008

Memo to Mrs. Palin: It's pronounced "NEW-KLEE-ARE"

I must be some kind of masochist, because I watched the US Vice Presidential Candidate debate last night. I didn't mind the rhetoric being slung back and forth. You have to expect a high degree of bullshit in any electoral debate. What I mind is the quality of bullshit from the Republican candidate, Gov. Sarah Palin. On virtually every question she tried her damnedest to deflect attention from her inability to respond capably and divert attention with 1979 vintage Republican hyperbole-drenched bullshit. Remember - 1979 was a very good year for Republican bullshit. She tried to appear approachable and familiar and yet brash and iconoclastic.

That load of bullshit may have worked when Reagan was about to bitch slap the Carter Administration, but it sure as Hell isn't going to work now. To prove my point, watch the debate over again, but this time under the framework of a drinking game:

1) Gov. Twinkie pronounces "Nuclear" as "Nuke-U-Lar:" 2 Drink
2) Gov. Twinkie says "looking forward" (or some variation thereof): 1 Drink
3) Gov. Twinkie says "Maverick:" 2 Drinks
4) Gov. Twinkie refers to her gubernatorial or her mayoral experience: 1 Drink

By the end of the debate, I guarantee that you will be more fucked up than any 3 blocks of the St. Patrick's Day Parade.

With all due respect to Gov. Twinkie, I say this: Bitch, SHUT THE FUCK UP. Trying to pull a Jedi Mind Trick in trying to respond to a question with a non-sequitur only works if you're a Jedi Master and not a dried up old whore. The only thing she proved was that Rednecks don't just have to come from the South. The fact that this Twinkie has a chance of being a heartbeat away from NORAD launch codes scares the shit out of me.

Allow me to end with this: In 2006, the same year Twinkie took office as Governor of Alaska, "The Amazing Mrs. Pritchard" premiered as a television series on BBC One. It would reach US audiences via PBS the following year. Jane Horrocks (arguably best known for her role as "Bubble" on "Absolutely Fabulous") played Rosamund Jane Pritchard, a supermarket manager who runs for public office and improbabaly becomes the British Prime Minister. She is saddled with a jackass husband and a daughter who is wildly out of control and a great embarassment to Mrs. Pritchard. Sound familiar? "The Amazing Mrs. Pritchard" was a brilliant series that died an ugly and undeservedly early death, but taken as a de facto miniseries, it is eerily apropos.

Gov. Twinkie, you are NO Mrs. Pritchard.

Saturday, September 20, 2008

Midtown Hot Mess o' Hair

I was walking with my girlfriend one morning to see her off to work while I went on to get groceries. We were right across the street from her office building, when I spotted this menopausal hot mess.



Drink it in, bitches.

I silently reached in my pocket for my camera, and I tried carefully so as not to draw attention by shouting "Holy FUCK! Check out that prune's mullet!" I could see my girlfriend's face tighten up as she tried desperately not to laugh. She kind of looked like when Harvey Korman tried to reign it in as he tried not to lose his shit during any random episode of "The Carol Burnett Show."

And if you think that's bad, you should have seen this taxidermy experiment from the front. Sweet Blessed Merciful Buddha, it took every ounce of restraint I had not to go get hammered off of some fortified wine.

Umm... Dude - You Should Change Your Light Bulbs



You gotta love being at the right spot at the right time to see crap like this happen.

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Robert Novak, Karma is a Royal Bitch, Isn't It?

In deference to those more even-tempered than myself, I should warn that profanity will ensue.

I've been wrestling with any number of reasons to take the moral high ground more often than I have. This isn't to say that I'm not a good person, but as some have pointed out, I'm not a nice person. I can live with that. I'm trying to be good, and as a vegan, I can appreciate the sanskrit belief of ahmisa, or the avoidance of violence. It is central to Vegan philosophy in that no animal or animal product be used. That means no meat, no leather, and nothing else obtained from an animal by violent means. It's a wonderful belief, but there's more than plenty of cases to press my adherence to Ahmisa.

There aren't enough ways for me to think about how I'd love to pound Michael Vick into a simpering little bitch, and that would be after I neuter him with the repeated trauma of having his genitals shot with a shotgun.

Loaded with Taser XREP ammo.

Thankfully there's a very short list of people I want to exact this sort of punishment on, but Robert Novak just made it to the top of the list. I grew up in Bethesda, Maryland. One of the things I had to endure was "The McLaughlin Group," a locally-produced political affairs roundtable tv show moderated by a pompous gasbag named John McLaughlin. I thought that it would go no farther than any other of DC's assclowns like Marion Barry, but "The McLauughlin Group" was nationally syndicated by PBS (Thanks, motherfuckers. Thanks a lot for that). The tragedy is that many if not all of the commentators who have ever sat on the Mclaughlin Group thought they possessed rapier-like wit worthy of Dorothy Parker, H.L. Mencken, and the rest of the Algonquin Roundtable when in reality, even the most even-tempered of McLaughlin Group Alumni had the charisma of a dried-up Coney Island Whitefish. It was one of the first soapboxes upon which Robert Novak revealed himself to being a bitter, angry, Napoleonic Cunt. Then again, if I looked like one of the residents of Innsmouth from H.P. Lovecraft's brilliant short story The Shadow Over Innsmouth, I'd be angry at the world too.





This little motherfucker had been guilty of spewing his venomous bile to one and all no matter who was his employer. He was used as a selling point much in the same way that people wanted to know what kind of scandalous shit Howard Stern would do. On top of that, Robert Novak outed Valerie Plame, a deep cover CIA operative whose own husband (a US Ambassador!) had no idea what she did. If you call Lindsey Lohan a cokewhore who would felch a drug mule for an eightball, big deal. But if you arrogantly fuck up US foreign policy and disrupt national security, and oh yeah - PUT A CIA OPERATIVE'S LIFE AT RISK, isn't that treason?

Aside from the other bullshit he's pulled like attempting to foster intercine warfare between Sens. Clinton & Obama's campaign offices, he's guilty of hitting an 86-year old pedestrian while the self-described "Prince of Darkness" was driving his black Corvette convertible. A bicyclist who saw this go down chased Novak down and prevented him from zipping away until the cops came.

It would be easy enough to hate this little greasy queef just on those two aspects alone, but he's also gone on record as saying that while in Puerto Rico in 2002, he attended a cockfight, and he relished it tremendously.  He's also gone on record in avid support of dogfights and other forms of animal fighting.

Holy

Motherfucking

Asscrackers.

While he relishes in public scorn of him, he is far from being the self-described "Prince of Darkness," and yet if he is precious little more than the annoyance of letting rip a a loud thunderous fart in a museum, it is easy to wish upon him so criminally violent  a fate that it would require a thoroughly sadistic and psychotic surgeon to pull it off.  He has profited greatly from his grossly unethical behavior, and he has shown no remorse for putting national security at risk for the supreme goal of preserving the visibility of his byline.  

He recently revealed that he has a pretty serious brain tumor occupying his head.  My first reaction to this was that the diagnosis was impossible, because that would require that he have a fucking brain to begin with.  I guess this is where we're supposed to feel sympathy for a craven little shit who's dying painfully instead of hoping that someone who not only ran into a pedestrian but fled the scene of a crime get prosecuted.  I wish his last few days were even more painful, and I'd want his wife, his son, and his daughter to watch his withered genitals be removed with a Dremel and force fed to them.  

Sunday, June 29, 2008

That Little Monkey Just Ain't Right

So I'm looking around Drugstore.com to pick up some stuff I need, and because I'm a cheap bastard, I wanted to see what I could pad my order with to get free shipping. I'm looking around, and I came across this little item.



















Sure looks cute, doesn't it?

First off, are kids so goddamned pussyfied that they have to have a "safe" version of a pinata? I guess beating the holy bejeezus out of a pinata for candy & toys isn't cool anymore. Then again, I suppose that a kid's party "off the grid" is an odd concept. God forbid kids should actually PLAY OUTSIDE.

But let's look at a line from the product description:
"Pull the correct string to get the candy (not included)."

Now look at where the strings are placed on good ol' Curious George.

What the fuck? What happens if you pull the wrong string? George shits on you? And I guess a wonderful Mexican traditional children's memory is further bastardized by not only taking a central element out (beating the Hell out of it for candy), but replacing it with some sick version of Russian Roulette that a Priest would play with young kids.

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Questions About the Undead

I generally don't cotton to what's commonly referred to as "torture porn," a modern Horror film genre that seems to rely more on shock and gore as opposed to characters. Eli Roth has carved out a reputation for himself with his tasty li'l nugget "Hostel," and apparently he's been keen on making a zombie movie.

Now I fuckin' love zombies (no, not like that). While I love Zack Snyder's remake of "Day of the Dead," I have no respect or appreciation for George Romero's zombie movies. They suck. Don't get me started about that bloated ass-clown of a director. The only movie of his I really liked was "Monkey Shines." That movie was friggin' hilarious. But enough about that jackass.

While there's probably no chance that I'm gonna rush out to see "Hostel" or any of Mr. Roth's filmography, I'm really looking forward to one of his upcoming projects, "Trailer Trash." It can be summed up with three basic questions:

1) What do zombies eat? (People - duh)
2) What happens when you smoke pot? (You get the munchies)
3) What would happen if zombies smoked pot? (Oh Blessed Mother of God)

While I eagerly look forward to "Trailer Trash," it got me to thinking about zombies.

1) What would happen if a zombie bit a vegan?
2) Is it possible for a zombie to be bulimic?
3) If conjoined twins (joined at any part other than the head) were attacked by a zombie, would both become the undead? Would one twin attack the other?
4) Two words: coprophilic zombies (Yes, I know there's something wrong with me)
5) How fuckin' cool would it be if a zombie bit into The Duggar family?
6) If a zombie bit into Dubya, would that give the zombie the shits, and how could you actually tell if Dubya was a zombie?

I ask questions about stuff like this on a regular basis. Sober.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Damnit, I'm Trying.

I remember waiting for the bus having picked up some groceries, and I saw something that pretty much made me sick. Some guy was wearing a replica Michael Vick Atlanta Falcons jersey walking down the street.

I hope to God he got the stink eye from a bunch of people. I'm grateful that this jackass didn't bump into me, because even in the middle of the day in public with witnesses, I would have made him eat his jersey shortly before giving what appeared to be his common-law wife/baby momma/sister/girlfriend an object lesson of what happens when you indiscriminately allow anyone to poke your cooter.

Out of respect to my girlfriend (who is eminently more grounded and less hot-headed than me), I made a vow to her and to myself not to pick a fight. I wouldn't go out of my way to start some petty bullshit, but I am more than willing to finish the fight. This jackass was sorely testing my beliefs, but then I had to hope that Karma would smack his punk ass hard.

Another time I was crossing the street right by our apartment building, and some dumb bitch was jaywalking and in the way. I barreled through her, and she expressed her indignance and shock. I retorted by flipping her the bird and telling her to go fuck herself. Regardless of where you are, if you don't abide by public safety and traffic laws, you'd be lucky if the least of your problems is a Korean telling you in plain language what to do with various parts of your anatomy.

The best part of this is that she was a diplomat (or at least some fucking jackass tourist who arrogantly doesn't know better) and had the bearing and stature that we should all get out of her way. On top of that, she pretty much followed me. I went to a nearby bank to make a deposit, and after I was done, she was waiting for me. She said something to the effect of "Didn't you know I was pregnant?" I responded with "Bitch, I don't care, and I didn't fuck you." Luckily for her sake, she walked away.

I tell you all of this because I'm trying my best to be compassionate towards all living creatures. As a vegan, I have vowed to avoid all animal products including leather, silk, and honey much less alone food. I still have some leather and silk, but once that wears out, I ain't getting any more of that crap. I'm trying to lead by example and help other people understand that there is a better way to leading one's life, and using animal products is not it. I believe that compassion towards animals will lead not only to a healthier life, but to a healthier world. How can you not want that? I'll go into some personal details and how veganism has helped me in another posting.

There's an old saying, "Never try to teach a pig to sing. It wastes your time, and it annoys the pig." You can help people only so far as they are receptive to listening to you, and one thing I have to do is to try and be as diplomatic as possible as well as trying to understand the psychology and frame of mind of the other person. Generally it is worth it, but what's deeply troubling is when you can't help those closest to you because they're too pig-headed. You can hope for the best, but if you can't help those who need it the most, try and help someone - or something.

But one thing I've always lived by is never, NEVER take shit from anyone. If someone is going to give you shit, make damned sure that person and others know what happens when they fuck with you. Unfortunately, life doesn't always present you with this opportunity to respond, and more often than not, you carry around a lot of anger & bad karma like back fat & muffin tops. Even if you're working out like Lance Armstrong, just try and get rid of that kind of flub. The best thing to do is to just drop that shit toot sweet. Move on.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

The Sierra Club Sold Out to Clorox

The first time I heard about the Green Works cleaning product line from Clorox was on TreeHugger, and attention was drawn to two factors, both of which comprised the 1% of Green Works that wasn't natural.

The preservative agent used, "Kathon," is made by Rohm & Haas. On their main product page, they show that they have tested on rats. On another product page, Rohm & Haas shows that they tested on female and male rabbits. These product pages also list side effects as well as possible long term impact in the water.

Now either this information was not made available to either Clorox or The Sierra Club, or there's some kind of Jedi Mind Trick being pulled here. Maybe Clorox does not use animal testing (or more specifically maybe Green Works doesn't use animal testing), but at least one of the companies that supply ingredients to Clorox does, so guess what? Green Works tests on animals.

Now let's take a look at the coloring, shall we? I suppose that Clorox feels that it's less important that a cleaning product does its job well, but that it smells nice and looks like a urine sample from The Incredible Hulk. Yeah, that makes sense. The manufacturer's website wasn't easy to find on a Dogpile search. What was easy to find was a lot of websites & news stories drawing attention to these colorants in Green Works. Milliken Chemical does not readily list their product information for their Liquitint line of dyes on their website, so it would be grossly unfair to them to assume that these dyes are either tested on animals or have dangerous side effects. However if they are evasive about providing this information or if they do not make it available at all, then serious issues are not being addressed, and we have the right to ask WHY.

Clorox and The Sierra Club have NOT acted in the interest of full disclosure and transparency. I can understand the reasoning behind The Sierra Club selling their support (after all, The Sierra Club was compensated for their endorsement) to Clorox. You want to have as much of an impact in fighting for the environment as possible. That's commendable. The question is which fighter do you support - the one most likely to win (who uses questionable ethics & tactics) or the smaller, lesser-known fighter who stays true to their beliefs and never wavers? We can focus on how much of a pain in the ass it is to spend significantly more money on organic, free trade, and vegan choices as opposed to conventional, plentiful, and cheaper choices. We can assuage any moral dilemmas with reasoning like The Sierra Club had in defense of their endorsement for Green Works. This really isn't so bad because Clorox has a huge market share and The Sierra Club can reach a broader audience with them than endorsing Seventh Generation, Method, or my personal favorite, Dr. Bronner's.

Or you can stop the nonsense altogether and fight for the future.

Saturday, March 29, 2008

The Worst Goddamned Album PERIOD.

Sweet friggin Jesus, all I wanted to do was to read the paper with my girlfriend in Borders. Seriously. That's it. I can deal with the hyperactive ankle biters flailing around, their nannies/parents who don't give a crap about how atrocious their spawn are acting, the emo bastards shuffling through life, and the ultrafabulous (and clueless) meatsacks who are bitching about shit to no end on their ultrafabulous cell phones. Hell, I can even deal with the bloated gelatinous mass of recycled Cheetos, Yoo Hoo and Jolt reading comic books, because I like comic books, HOWEVER, I don't leave a wake of junk food and armpit musk for all to enjoy. Goddamn, how expensive is Old Spice now?

I can deal with all of that, but when my girlfriend starts to ask how does a books & music store determine what music to play in the store, I figured it was getting on her nerves. Then when I realized that she wasn't reading as much as holding her head in her hands trying to drown out the sounds of mediocrity that I figured she was gonna lose her shit. Let's put things in perspective for a moment. When I lose my shit, people generally know within a few feet at least. It doesn't surprise some people when I go off like an overcaffeinated Lewis Black (my inspiration and hero). But when I see my girlfriend lose her shit, I know it has to be really fucked up.

We both wanted to ask a clerk what cd was playing, slap the holy bejeezus out of the clerk, rip the cd out of the player and shatter it. We had no idea what the buggery bollocks it was, and all we remember was that they didn't so much as cover a Beatles track as they raped it with slack key guitar. I love real country music (Randy Travis is the shit), adn this wasn't country. A track or two later, the "artists" saw fit to do a simiilar raping of "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot." Throughout this audio torture, my girlfriend pleaded with me to shut up and stop with the potty mouth. Ummmm.... nope. At this point in time, the football has been passed to the President, and it's on like muthafuckin' Donkey Kong. If some smarmy little clerk comes up to me and asks me to shut up, I'll ask him to put on some friggin' Van Halen (NOT Van Hagar) or Kiss to drown out the crap.

Another point to understand: my girlfriend and I share a masochistic love of shitty music. When we started dating, as a gag I got her a couple cds loaded with some heinous covers like Cassius Clay singing "Stand By Me," and William Shatner singing "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds." I told her that William Shatner did an album called "The Transformed Man," and she made me hunt for it. This is one reason why I love her. She couldn't bring herself to listen to Pat Boone's collection of Heavy Metal covers ("In A Metal Mood"), nor will she listen to David Hasselhoff. However, if William Shatner is coming to New York, we're there. I paid money for a David Koresh (Yes, that David Koresh) cd. You gotta love an album title like "Voices of Fire." This album, "Volume One" by She & Him was worse than all of that. Apparently I'm supposed to be impressed by the fact that Actress Zoey Deschanel thinks she can sing. I will not link to this album, because I hope in earnest that this album goes down quicker than Elliot Spitzer's career. If you see this album in a "staff picks" section, Inquire as to the mental health requirements of their staff. If you are curious about this album enough to listen to it, wash your ears out with some Madeleine Peyroux, BT, or Hapa.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

In Space, No One Can Hear You Gag

Lordy, I love spicy food. I love habanero peppers for the endorphin rush, the fire, the pain, and that you can actually taste the pepper. I grew up with some of the stinkiest stuff under the sun, kimchi. This isn't so much as a delicacy as some have generously said. It's more of a way for blind people to hate Koreans. kimchi usually consists of cabbage, garlic, salt, carrots, LOADS of red pepper, radishes, ginger, and sometimes some anchovies, and some other stuff I'm almost afraid to think about.

I kid. It's really quite tasty, but it stinks. Twice. Once when you eat it, and well, you get the idea. I read a wonderful little story on BBC.co.uk about Ko San, the first Korean about to go into space, and I had a whole mess o' questions. Take a look at this story and let it digest. I'll wait.

Here are my questions:

1) What if Mr. Ko has some terrestrial kimchi before launch, and he lets one rip in the space station? Would the bacteria in regular kimchi wreak havoc, or just stink?
2) While it stands to reason that any food going into space would have to be rigorously tested, is kimchi so volatile that it needs the stamp of approval from the Korean Atomic Energy Research Institute (KAERI)? Is there a risk of weapons grade plutonium being smuggled in a jar of kimchi?
3) The article goes on to quote an official KAERI statement that "Kimchi must be provided in a germ-free state," but God have mercy on your nose if someone lets off a ninja biscuit. Actually it's not a case of "if," but "when."
4) The articled mentioned organic produce as well as instant noodles (bastards HAD to throw that one in there, eh?) and cinnamon tea. What about bulgogi? I may be a vegan, but some of my fondest memories growing up were of Korean barbeque. How the Hell are they gonna set up the grill in space?

I'd love to see the state of the International Space Station after Mr. Ko leaves. More specifically I'd like to express my sympathy to whomever would use the zero-gravity toilet after him. Yeah, I'm playa-hatin. So what?

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

The Clown Prince is Dead



Damnit, damnit, damnit. Why does this shit happen? I thought that the story on Superherohype.com was a sick joke, but it's on CNN.com. I was not terribly familiar with Heath Ledger's work as an actor. I know he's had his time in the gossip rags, and I know he's been perceived as aloof and serious about his work, but goddamnit, why does this have to happen? Chris Nolan's brilliant direction in "Batman Begins" breathed fresh life into an all but dead franchise. It was ok for comic book geeks and respectable people to like comic books again, and who didn't get a shiver at the ending? A sequel was a sure bet. With "The Dark Knight," there was finally going to be some respect paid to one of the least understood villains in pop culture. Cesar Romero was friggin' great, and Jack Nicholson was an obvious knee-jerk choice, but The Joker was finally going to be one scary bastard thanks to Heath Ledger. I hope that the Joker will be as constant a character in the movies as he has been in comic books.

My heartfelt condolences to those that loved him, especially the daughter he leaves behind.

Monday, January 21, 2008

It's Not TV, It's Crap

One of the few reasons there is left for me to watch HBO now is "Real Time with Bill Maher." I love that show. I love Bill Maher's "Take No Shit From ANYONE" attitude. There was one episode last season in which some jackass in the audience started yammering about some 9/11 conspiracy, and Bill Maher shouted back to the jackass something to the effect of "Can I get some fucking security in here, or do I have to throw you out myself?" Bill leapt into the audience and along with security, he gave a hearty "va fangu" to the morons. This shut up even a loudmouth like Chris Matthews (who was, of course, in the wingnut seat). One of the best parts of "Real Time with Bill Maher" is his "New Rules" coda segement in which he skewers particularly egregious assholes with a short, yet stinging rule.

Right about now, "Real Time with Bill Maher" is trying to get momentum going for its new season in the midst of the Writers Guild Association strike against The Alliance of Motion Pictures and Television Producers. This has cripppled television, killed shows, and has affected the development of films from script to grossly overpriced tickets. The strike has continued since July 16th, 2007, and while the Directors Guild Association has recently tried to intervene to resolve this conflict, I strongly feel that things are gonna get worse. Bill Maher was able to get some kind of waiver to go on with his show minus the opening monologue, comedic interludes, and unfortunately, "New Rules."

In other words, "Real Time with Bill Maher" has been partially neutered. As a Bill Maher fan, it pains me to say this, but it sucks. The show still has its merits, but imagine if you've driven an Aston Martin DB-5 for years...and someone tells you that you have to ride a Big Wheel until they tell you you can have your DB-5 back. Some shows have actually bought the farm, and it's really tragic that shows like "Scrubs" won't be able to end in the way they dserve because of a bunch of greedy bastards.

Right before July 16th, 2007, there was an insane rush to get scripts approved and put into production at movie studios. They knew the shit was gonna hit the fan for a long time, and they wanted to get their biggest projects taken care of. There will still be big movies, and reality shows have flourished, because for the better part, they're unscripted. That giant sucking wound is not the usual lack of creativity in mass media culture - but the pronounced lack of even rancid shit dressed up to look respectable.

So, while there hasn't been much of anything to watch on TV recently outside of stuff we've seen endless times before and documentaries, I have one question. Why has there been no massive rush to libraries and bookstores? What does it say about us that we'd rather watch recycled old crap than read a book?

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Happy New Year, Whitey



This is my buddy Whitey's lil slice of the Big Apple, the Pond at Central Park. From this map, it doesn't look all that impressive, but it's a beautiful little quantum of solace, and that's probably one of the main reasons my girlfriend and I visit this part of Central Park so much. That and to hang out with Whitey. He doesn't ask for much, and we try and bring him some nice stuff to eat.

On Dec. 30th, we went to see Whitey with bags of birdseed for him and the rest of the ducks. Something looked odd about the Pond, but I didn't pay too much mind about a duck shortage, and a strange accumulation by the water's edge all along the perimiter of the Pond. Whitey has been missing before, and it's not for me to question the ways of Whitey. He was with some Mallards, and they were grooming themselves. On Dec. 31st, we saw him and a few ducks on the other side of the Pond in a spot where we could not get to him. I don't think he heard us or knew that we were there. I know he was kinda distracted, because he usually waddles, swims, and on occasion flies right for us, because he knows well have good food for him and his buddies. Still, we didn't see one duck in the Pond. Something DEFINITELY happened, and this is how we found Whitey on New Year's Day.



Ducks are NOT supposed to look like this. There's a gland that produces an oil used to clean themselves off and to make sure their feathers are waterproof. If they can't get whatever is out of their feathers, they're gonna die. Needless to say, my girlfriend and I were worried shitless. One of the people we regularly see at Central Park told us that he noticed an oily spillage in the Pond after Christmas, and it looked like it was coming from Wollman Rink, or a vendor there. It could have been some chemical spillage or oil, but no matter what it was, this was not right by a longshot.

After calling up the Central Park Conservancy and the Cenrtal Park Rangers' office, someone was sent out to investigate. I later found out that while precious little has been done short of putting up a boom to collect whatever had been leaking into the Pond, the going theory was that it was used cooking oil. The Central Park Conservancy did their best to flush the crap out of the water. They ran a hose, and it was running solid for at least a couple days. Still, while he lookd better the first week in January, he still looked spooked by the water. He was hardly swimming, and that broke our hearts. Just last week he began to swim for a lil bit, but he was doing his damnedest to get back to his old silly self. He'd carefully tread over icy bits to come to where we were. His feathers looked remarkably better, and I knew he was on the mend. Over the past couple of days, he'd swim for a lil bit, and he came to us easier. Just this part morning, he came waddling for us whe he heard the clicking sound, and he was swimming around after he had his fill. Whitey was practically all better, and while I should feel some degree of peace of mind, I want to know who thought it was ok to dump that much oil into the Pond. Even if that asshole doesnt understand that what they did will have an impact on the environment, I'm damn sure that this was illegal, and I want to know that this asshole is going to get punished. Since there's not a whole lot we can do about that, my girlfriend and I will continue to go to see Whitey, and feed him and his buddies.