I should clarify. The first seven seasons of "The Simpsons" comprised the best run of TV shows in history. The following 24 years (or whatever) have been dogshit. So 7 years of the best TV ever plus 47 years of detestable shows = hate.
I was reminded of this recently when I made the mistake of watching a recent episode. It started just fine, had twists and turns and satire ... and ended up completely emotionally hollow. Characters were reduced to caricatures and cranked through the pointlessly insane motions of the plot. Not a single moment felt attached to reality or had the least bit of heart. It was all a cynical exercise in churning through jokes.
And older "Simpsons" episodes did have heart. Each started from a place of common understanding, some situation that any family can relate to. The family dog has puppies. The bratty kid goes too far when he shoplifts. The father betrays his wife's trust one too many times and is kicked out. From these starting points, the episodes would often go in hilariously bizarre, absurd directions, but they would usually do it temporarily, and then return to a grounding of relatable human behavior. The last few moments would usually have some sort of sweetness to it. I've cried at many an old "Simpsons" episode. Remember when Homer meets his mom again after decades of estrangement, and when she goes back on the lam, he sits on his car and looks at the stars? It gives me chills just thinking about it.
Nowadays, the show is too busy speeding through the joke-manufacturing machinery of the plot to reveal any emotion or human insights. Instead of starting from relatable premises like "Homer has heart surgery" or "Lisa becomes a vegetarian," now an episode will be "Homer becomes a paparazzo." What? Why? So the "Simpsons" writers can make fun of celebrity culture, basically. And hey, who else on TV is doing that? (Answer: Everybody. There are entire channels that do nothing else.)
Of course, the classic episodes were far from 100% sunshine and light -- they were probably 99% cynicism and negativity. But it was a wonderfully insightful brand of cynical negativity. I don't know if this is the best example, but here goes: In one episode, Bart got one of those little spongy things that you put in water and it's supposed to grow to a big dinosaur. He, of course, imagines it will immediately sprout into a 20-foot-tall T. Rex and start eating Lisa. So he excitedly sprays the hose on it, and it slowly grows about two inches and then coasts into the sewer. I remember going through the exact same experience when I was a kid. It was a funny, pleasant shock to see it on screen.
Granted, the new episodes will have funny moments now and then. Sometimes one will have some sort of tiny insight like the one I just described. But to get to those moments you have to wade through lots of labored, contrived, two-bit satire of innocuous pop culture phenomena. That's the other thing -- they constantly lambaste showbiz nowadays, picking easy targets that even the schmucks on VH-1 can make fun of: Paris Hilton, boy bands, etc. And in the process, they always make fun of Americans for being obsessed with it all -- but by expending so much energy ridiculing the most insignifcant little Hollywood trends, the "Simpsons" writers are clearly just as obsessed, if not more. And by the way, satirizing pop culture ephemera guarantees that your show won't age gracefully. Nobody watches old Rich Little clips any more.
But you can't criticize "Simpsons" episodes without inviting the "Worst. Episode. Ever." response from its defenders. That's the one where they make fun of hyper-critical "Simpsons" fanboys who really need to get a life. And I have seen said fanboys in action on "Simpsons" fan sites, picking apart some of the classic episodes and damning them for a few imagined flaws. That's not what I'm doing here. Apart from most of the first season, in which the show was really just getting its sea legs, I think the first seven seasons are uniformly brilliant. I have my favorites ("Lisa the Vegetarian," "Lisa's Rival" -- I guess I like Lisa), but I really don't have much criticism for any of them.
My point is here that I'm not being petty or grumpy-old-man-ish -- I'm just lamenting the fact that the greatest show ever has become a depressing shell of its former self during the past 150 years or so. It's like if Usain Bolt followed his record-breaking run with 72 solid hours of victory laps. No, it's actually sadder than that -- it's like if Orson Welles gave up on making the greatest movies ever and instead settled for being broken, morbidly obese commercial pitchman ... oh, wait.
And Fox will never stop cranking out the episodes until people stop watching. And people probably won't stop watching, because shitty Simpsons is still better than half the crap on TV. That, and people are idiots. So the Simpsons, as a show, as an entity, will continue on its path from going from the best show in TV history to being the worst. Sigh.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
I Made a Palindrome!
Stab for a car of bats!
This is especially exciting for me because this is a phrase I use all the time! When I exhort people to stab things, I often dangle the incentive of a car full of bats. I can't believe that I never realized it was a palindrome before!
OK, it's not the most sensical palindrome ever. The all-time best, for my money, is "A man, a plan, a canal - Panama." Another famous one is "Able was I ere I saw Elba." But I never liked that one because every word is a word that is a palindrome of another word -- there are no long sequences where you're like, "wait, is that actually a palindrome?"Anyone can do one of these every-word-is-a-palindrome palindromes ... let's see ... "We flog racecar golf, ew!" See? Lame.
When I was in high school, a friend and I would try to make palindromes in our spare time. (We were the coolest kids on school, obviously. We also made flip books of the Large Marge scene in "Pee-Wee's Big Adventure." Instead of say, dating. I look back on those days with absolutely no nostalgia.) But we never came up with anything even as good as the bat-stabbing one. They were always more like "Have a kumquat, Tauqmukaevah!" And then we'd explain that Tauqmukaevah was a fellow who liked kumquats. I think we might have tried this for a day or two before we gave up.
So what do YOU think of my awesome palindrome? Remember, your comment must be in the form of a palindrome.
This is especially exciting for me because this is a phrase I use all the time! When I exhort people to stab things, I often dangle the incentive of a car full of bats. I can't believe that I never realized it was a palindrome before!
OK, it's not the most sensical palindrome ever. The all-time best, for my money, is "A man, a plan, a canal - Panama." Another famous one is "Able was I ere I saw Elba." But I never liked that one because every word is a word that is a palindrome of another word -- there are no long sequences where you're like, "wait, is that actually a palindrome?"Anyone can do one of these every-word-is-a-palindrome palindromes ... let's see ... "We flog racecar golf, ew!" See? Lame.
When I was in high school, a friend and I would try to make palindromes in our spare time. (We were the coolest kids on school, obviously. We also made flip books of the Large Marge scene in "Pee-Wee's Big Adventure." Instead of say, dating. I look back on those days with absolutely no nostalgia.) But we never came up with anything even as good as the bat-stabbing one. They were always more like "Have a kumquat, Tauqmukaevah!" And then we'd explain that Tauqmukaevah was a fellow who liked kumquats. I think we might have tried this for a day or two before we gave up.
So what do YOU think of my awesome palindrome? Remember, your comment must be in the form of a palindrome.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Quick Thought
I've often wondered if we humans are making life so complicated that eventually we won't even be able to navigate our own lives. Every time we find a problem, we add another layer of complexity to solve it. Eventuially the over-complexity becomes a bigger problem than any of the original problems, but we for some reason just can't stop adding to it.
It's like the tax code. We discover that rich people are getting out of paying income taxes, so we add the Alternative Minimum Tax. But oh wait, now there's a penalty for being married. Let's add another thing that fixes that. Eventually it gets to the point where no one can really keep it all straight, and it's hell to try to muddle your way through it each April.
I think that the recent economic collapse is in part due to this phenomenon. As I understand it, mortgages were broken up and sold as derivatives. Then they were packaged with other bits, and futures were sold against them, and then came credit default swaps and other crazy crap, Eventually it got to the point when no one really knew what they were buying or what they were selling. The financial sector made a system that even they couldn't understand, and ended up making very bad, ill-informed decisions as a result. The whole thing collapsed when the exponentially growing complexity surpassed the finite capacity of human beings to understand it.
You deal with this when you deal with health insurance too -- in that case, though, I believe the overcomplications are intentional. Between deductibles and coinsurance and limits and acres of fine print about what's covered and what isn't under what circumstances, they intentionally make everything so complicated that you can't really sign on knowing exactly what you're getting. And then when disaster happens, all they have to do is say, "Well, because of your deductible and coinsurance, you have to pay 90% of the first $5000 and then 25% of the next $3 and then all future expenses in perpetuity, because the full amount only covered on Tuesdays in autumn. It's in the contract that you signed, dummy. What are you going to do, sue? Like you have the time."
And they count on the fact that we either aren't smart enough to grasp it all or don't have the time to sit down and figure it all out. I've seen many news reports about people who got outrageous denials of coverage (one I remember was a woman who fell and broke her arm, and they claimed it was a pre-existing condition -- no joke), and then those people worked what amounted to second jobs to fight the denials. Eventually they won, but what about all the people who don't have the time or smarts to do battle against massive companies that marshal the best minds in the country to find extremely clever ways to screw policyholders out of money? Because that's where their profit motive lies, folks: in not paying your claims, not helping you when you're hurt, not doing the service you essentially contracted them for. They do it all through the time-honored practice of "delay, deny, defend." They put you through crazy hoops, delaying payment, denying coverage, and then defending it in court, all in the hopes you'll give up and just pay it yourself rather than fight. It works like a charm.
I'm not saying health insurance companies are evil -- they're just trying to make a profit. Therefore, they shouldn't be allowed to make profits. The profit motive works for many, many things, but not for health insurance. They make more money when they provide their customers with less. It would like a food producer that profits when it starves people. The answer is to take away the profit motive and make all health insurance companies non-profits. Or make it all run by the government. Hey, we all know that the government isn't perfect, but I'll take a messy, bureaucratic government system over a system that strongly incentivizes screwing consumers any day.
OK, this was not meant to turn into a tirade about health insurance. Sometimes my passionate hatred of health insurance overwhelms me, sorry. Back to the point: In this developed world of ours, are we just piling on more and more systems to navigate and things to learn so fast that eventually we'll reach an event horizon in which no one can get out of bed in the morning? Do we all need to give up, move to Walden Pond and grow peas? What do you think?
It's like the tax code. We discover that rich people are getting out of paying income taxes, so we add the Alternative Minimum Tax. But oh wait, now there's a penalty for being married. Let's add another thing that fixes that. Eventually it gets to the point where no one can really keep it all straight, and it's hell to try to muddle your way through it each April.
I think that the recent economic collapse is in part due to this phenomenon. As I understand it, mortgages were broken up and sold as derivatives. Then they were packaged with other bits, and futures were sold against them, and then came credit default swaps and other crazy crap, Eventually it got to the point when no one really knew what they were buying or what they were selling. The financial sector made a system that even they couldn't understand, and ended up making very bad, ill-informed decisions as a result. The whole thing collapsed when the exponentially growing complexity surpassed the finite capacity of human beings to understand it.
You deal with this when you deal with health insurance too -- in that case, though, I believe the overcomplications are intentional. Between deductibles and coinsurance and limits and acres of fine print about what's covered and what isn't under what circumstances, they intentionally make everything so complicated that you can't really sign on knowing exactly what you're getting. And then when disaster happens, all they have to do is say, "Well, because of your deductible and coinsurance, you have to pay 90% of the first $5000 and then 25% of the next $3 and then all future expenses in perpetuity, because the full amount only covered on Tuesdays in autumn. It's in the contract that you signed, dummy. What are you going to do, sue? Like you have the time."
And they count on the fact that we either aren't smart enough to grasp it all or don't have the time to sit down and figure it all out. I've seen many news reports about people who got outrageous denials of coverage (one I remember was a woman who fell and broke her arm, and they claimed it was a pre-existing condition -- no joke), and then those people worked what amounted to second jobs to fight the denials. Eventually they won, but what about all the people who don't have the time or smarts to do battle against massive companies that marshal the best minds in the country to find extremely clever ways to screw policyholders out of money? Because that's where their profit motive lies, folks: in not paying your claims, not helping you when you're hurt, not doing the service you essentially contracted them for. They do it all through the time-honored practice of "delay, deny, defend." They put you through crazy hoops, delaying payment, denying coverage, and then defending it in court, all in the hopes you'll give up and just pay it yourself rather than fight. It works like a charm.
I'm not saying health insurance companies are evil -- they're just trying to make a profit. Therefore, they shouldn't be allowed to make profits. The profit motive works for many, many things, but not for health insurance. They make more money when they provide their customers with less. It would like a food producer that profits when it starves people. The answer is to take away the profit motive and make all health insurance companies non-profits. Or make it all run by the government. Hey, we all know that the government isn't perfect, but I'll take a messy, bureaucratic government system over a system that strongly incentivizes screwing consumers any day.
OK, this was not meant to turn into a tirade about health insurance. Sometimes my passionate hatred of health insurance overwhelms me, sorry. Back to the point: In this developed world of ours, are we just piling on more and more systems to navigate and things to learn so fast that eventually we'll reach an event horizon in which no one can get out of bed in the morning? Do we all need to give up, move to Walden Pond and grow peas? What do you think?
Friday, October 2, 2009
Amy's Irrational Fears and the Irrational Fear-o-Meter
I’ve noticed that the older I get, the more irrational my fears become. Are irrational fears a byproduct of age? I assume it has something to do with me hearing about other people’s disasters. The longer I live, the more I hear about disasters. Here’s me in 2006: “Nah, bridges never collapse.” And here’s me in late 2007: “Whoa. Watch out for bridges!” Are these budding fears useful or a hindrance? Downhill skiing, while still a fun activity, is hinting at its dangers with each passing experience. When I’m on the chair lift, I think about how much it would hurt to fall off. When I’m scraping my way down the hill, I think about how little I’d like my knee to bend the wrong way until it snaps. Is aging killing my very few joys in life now or is it just making me more careful? I don’t know. Let’s examine some of these fears in-depth:
Fear Number One: My Kitchen Cupboards Can’t Take It Anymore And Come Crashing Down. This is a tough one. I think I have, among other things, 12 dish sets in one upper cupboard above my sink. That’s 12 big plates, 12 little plates, 12 annoyingly big bowls, and 12 seldom-used saucers. The other things are more bowls, some little dishes I swiped from work, and some big heavy decorative dishes my mom gave me. That’s a lot of weight for one small cupboard above a sink. What’s holding that cupboard up? A couple of screws? I don’t see the kind of supports I’d like to see, like the things holding bridges up (even defective ones). As far as I know, my cupboards are just stuck to the wall with some Elmer’s. Why isn’t everyone concerned about this?
Irrationality Level: High. Totally irrational, though? I think not. My friend Lindsey’s ktichen cuboard fell off the wall once, unprovoked. Therefore, it can happen!
Fear Number Two: Mountain Lions. I live in Boulder and there are mountain lions here. I’ve never seen one and I don’t even know if I’ve ever met anyone who has ever seen one, but we know they’re lurking out here somewhere. And they eat people! Maybe they’re in my back yard right now! (As an aside, I really don’t think it should be “backyard.” I think it should be “back yard” and that’s what I’m going to use). I check my back yard every day for mountain lions and while I haven’t seen one yet, I’m not going to stop checking.
Irrationality Level: Medium. I mean, some kid was attacked about four years ago in Boulder and a few weeks ago in Oregon. It can happen!
Fear Number Three: Deciding to Try to Survive for a Summer in a Bus in Alaska and Eating a Poisonous Sweet Pea Plant and Dying Alone of Starvation. Those of you who have read and/or seen Into the Wild will notice that I have too. Since then, I have found myself feeling nervous about somehow accidentally ending up in that situation and I really, really, really don’t want to do that. None of it. I don’t want to live in a bus, I don’t want to eat a poisonous plant, and I don’t want to die of involuntary starvation. I should add a sub-fear, here, which is of eating anything poisonous, even if it’s not in Alaska. I couldn’t even eat this arugula salad I once ordered at a hoity-toity restaurant because it tasted like poison. But anyway, there it is. I really don’t want this to happen to me and just thinking about it gives me the willies.
Irrationality Level: OK, Really High. But you know what, it really did happen! Just not to me.
Fear Number Four: My Front Bicycle Tire Falls Off When I’m Riding Down a Hill. Like the cupboards, what is holding that tire on? Just a little metal? Who put this bike together? Who was the last person to put that wheel on? Me? For heaven’s sake, I don’t know anything about bikes. Who let me put a tire on a bike? Do I KNOW that I did it right? I mean, I think I did it right, it’s really not that hard, but did I tighten the thingies enough? Too much? Is the wheel going to sieze up and stop turning because it’s too tight?
Irrationality Level: I’d Say Medium-Low. Because when I was in high school, it did happen! to a kid I knew and he really got a bad road rash on his face.
Irrational Fear Number Five: My Cell Phone In My Front Pants Pocket Will Give Me Ovarian Cancer. This one eats at me every day. Hopefully not literally. We all know that cell phones give off a little radiation. How much? I don’t know. How much will give you cancer? I don’t know. Does anyone know if these levels are safe? I mean, people used to drink radium thinking it would keep them healthy. Now we know that’s a bad idea. In 30 years, will we look back on our cell phones as cancer cubes (even though they’re never cubes, but “cancer rectangular prisms” is awkward)? I’ve actually thought about carrying my cell phone in my back pocket, thinking that butt cancer would be better. But Farrah Fawcett had a really bad time with anal cancer and we all know how that ended, so that’s probably not a good alternative. (Hey! Maybe a cell phone in the back pocket is how she got it! Did anyone look into that possibility?) A purse would be better, but I hate purses. Getting rid of it would be the best of all, but it really is convenient sometimes. So what do I do? Do you suppose they sell little lead-lined pouches? I just have no answers to this problem. Thankfully, I don’t use my cell phone very much, so I’m strangely not worried about brain cancer.
Irrationality Level: Dammit, Low. Low! I think it’s Low! I think it could happen!
So there we have five of my least-rational fears. What do you think? Is this the first step to becoming the Little Old Lady Who Only Drives a Buick on Sundays or do these fears have merit? It is a case of older-and-wiser or growing instability? I think what gives me some hope and confidence is that I know there are people, maybe even sometime contributers to this blog, who have irrational bee fears. I don’t have an irrational bee fear. They can crawl all over me and I don’t care. Oh, but I am afraid of brown recluse spiders hiding in the fingers of old work gloves and biting me when I put them on. Laugh if you will, I don’t care. It can happen!
Fear Number One: My Kitchen Cupboards Can’t Take It Anymore And Come Crashing Down. This is a tough one. I think I have, among other things, 12 dish sets in one upper cupboard above my sink. That’s 12 big plates, 12 little plates, 12 annoyingly big bowls, and 12 seldom-used saucers. The other things are more bowls, some little dishes I swiped from work, and some big heavy decorative dishes my mom gave me. That’s a lot of weight for one small cupboard above a sink. What’s holding that cupboard up? A couple of screws? I don’t see the kind of supports I’d like to see, like the things holding bridges up (even defective ones). As far as I know, my cupboards are just stuck to the wall with some Elmer’s. Why isn’t everyone concerned about this?
Irrationality Level: High. Totally irrational, though? I think not. My friend Lindsey’s ktichen cuboard fell off the wall once, unprovoked. Therefore, it can happen!
Fear Number Two: Mountain Lions. I live in Boulder and there are mountain lions here. I’ve never seen one and I don’t even know if I’ve ever met anyone who has ever seen one, but we know they’re lurking out here somewhere. And they eat people! Maybe they’re in my back yard right now! (As an aside, I really don’t think it should be “backyard.” I think it should be “back yard” and that’s what I’m going to use). I check my back yard every day for mountain lions and while I haven’t seen one yet, I’m not going to stop checking.
Irrationality Level: Medium. I mean, some kid was attacked about four years ago in Boulder and a few weeks ago in Oregon. It can happen!
Fear Number Three: Deciding to Try to Survive for a Summer in a Bus in Alaska and Eating a Poisonous Sweet Pea Plant and Dying Alone of Starvation. Those of you who have read and/or seen Into the Wild will notice that I have too. Since then, I have found myself feeling nervous about somehow accidentally ending up in that situation and I really, really, really don’t want to do that. None of it. I don’t want to live in a bus, I don’t want to eat a poisonous plant, and I don’t want to die of involuntary starvation. I should add a sub-fear, here, which is of eating anything poisonous, even if it’s not in Alaska. I couldn’t even eat this arugula salad I once ordered at a hoity-toity restaurant because it tasted like poison. But anyway, there it is. I really don’t want this to happen to me and just thinking about it gives me the willies.
Irrationality Level: OK, Really High. But you know what, it really did happen! Just not to me.
Fear Number Four: My Front Bicycle Tire Falls Off When I’m Riding Down a Hill. Like the cupboards, what is holding that tire on? Just a little metal? Who put this bike together? Who was the last person to put that wheel on? Me? For heaven’s sake, I don’t know anything about bikes. Who let me put a tire on a bike? Do I KNOW that I did it right? I mean, I think I did it right, it’s really not that hard, but did I tighten the thingies enough? Too much? Is the wheel going to sieze up and stop turning because it’s too tight?
Irrationality Level: I’d Say Medium-Low. Because when I was in high school, it did happen! to a kid I knew and he really got a bad road rash on his face.
Irrational Fear Number Five: My Cell Phone In My Front Pants Pocket Will Give Me Ovarian Cancer. This one eats at me every day. Hopefully not literally. We all know that cell phones give off a little radiation. How much? I don’t know. How much will give you cancer? I don’t know. Does anyone know if these levels are safe? I mean, people used to drink radium thinking it would keep them healthy. Now we know that’s a bad idea. In 30 years, will we look back on our cell phones as cancer cubes (even though they’re never cubes, but “cancer rectangular prisms” is awkward)? I’ve actually thought about carrying my cell phone in my back pocket, thinking that butt cancer would be better. But Farrah Fawcett had a really bad time with anal cancer and we all know how that ended, so that’s probably not a good alternative. (Hey! Maybe a cell phone in the back pocket is how she got it! Did anyone look into that possibility?) A purse would be better, but I hate purses. Getting rid of it would be the best of all, but it really is convenient sometimes. So what do I do? Do you suppose they sell little lead-lined pouches? I just have no answers to this problem. Thankfully, I don’t use my cell phone very much, so I’m strangely not worried about brain cancer.
Irrationality Level: Dammit, Low. Low! I think it’s Low! I think it could happen!
So there we have five of my least-rational fears. What do you think? Is this the first step to becoming the Little Old Lady Who Only Drives a Buick on Sundays or do these fears have merit? It is a case of older-and-wiser or growing instability? I think what gives me some hope and confidence is that I know there are people, maybe even sometime contributers to this blog, who have irrational bee fears. I don’t have an irrational bee fear. They can crawl all over me and I don’t care. Oh, but I am afraid of brown recluse spiders hiding in the fingers of old work gloves and biting me when I put them on. Laugh if you will, I don’t care. It can happen!
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
A Single Prosaic Thought
Every time we watch a drama, comedy, or whatever, we're really just enjoying watching people go through terrible things. In a tragedy, people go through terrible things and then die. In a comedy, people go through terrible things and then get married at the end, or whatever. In a drama, people go through terrible things that they conquer in the last reel. The only genre that's nothing but watching people go through pleasurable things is porn. And that's kind of a different thing entirely.
Things I Hate: Most Forms of Male Facial Hair
I hate most forms of male facial hair. I've broached this topic before, but I haven't given it the sort of hard-hitting, hyperbolic, irrational, unfair exploration that has made me famous among a handful of people who already knew me.
I think the main thing I hate about most forms of male facial hair (henceforth known as "facial hairstyles") is that it always seems that the wearer is trying too hard. Or maybe it's that facial hairstyles go in and out of fashion so much, and people should know from looking at old pictures that today's hip look is always tomorrow's laughingstock. I'm not sure why it is exactly, but I am sure that a weird facial hairstyle usually means that the person is a douche.
There are acceptable facial hairstyles. Full beards are fine, because they are well-established over the centuries and don't connote anything in particular. I guess they sometimes mean "I am a professor," but not always, and hey, being a professor isn't necessarily a bad thing. And if you have the balls to grow one really long, like some Russian noble from the early 1600s, well, then you're the man. Now that's retro.
Big bushy Magnum P.I.-esque mustaches are acceptable, because they're funny. They're so hopelessly out of style that, if you have one, you've committed yourself to wearing a joke, all day, every day, and you have to admire that kind of gumption. Other facial hairstyles make men look like jokes, but the men aren't in on the joke, see, and they think they look hip, so that's just annoying. I doubt many guys with big, bushy mustaches really think they look hip, and if they do, well, that's all the funnier.
Pretty much all other facial hairstyles are horrible. In fact, I think they should all be renamed ("rebranded," if you will. Will you? No? OK, well, I don't blame you.) with disgusting, hateful names. I think if they're paired with nasty images through terrible names, the true nastiness of the styles will break through their pretensions of hipness like rays of fetid sunlight. Then, ideally, people sporting these forms of facial hair will be ridiculed using these new names, and then those people will commit suicide, and we'll rid ourselves of an entire generation of douchebags. That's the plan, anyway. So here's the first one:
1. The soul patch is now "Upside-Down Hitler Mustache."
See that douche in the picture on the right? By wearing the upside-down Hitler mustache, he is sending a secret signal that he hates Jews and wants them exterminated from the earth. That's what it means as of this moment, anyway. So the next time you see a guy on the street with a so-called soul patch, go up to him and shout, "Why do you want to kill all Jews?!?!" I do it constantly, and I've only been arrested a few dozen times. It's the least I can do to help rid the world of the upside-down Hitler mustache (and, as an added bonus, free the world of bigotry).
As an aside, a stand-up comedian (can't remember who) once noted how amazing it is that Hitler was able to make a certain mustache unusable forever. I mean, that's some remarkable evilness -- he was so evil that whatever he chose to put on his face would be destroyed for everyone. Idi Amin, Pol Pot -- sure they exterminated milions, but did they kill a hairstyle? I think not! Bunch of wannabes. Saddam Hussein even had some silly facial hair (the aforementioned Magnum P.I.-esque mustache), and no one even considered banning it forever. Hm, maybe he wasn't so evil after all. Crap, we shouldn't have invaded Iraq! Geez, now we figure it out!
Wait a minute, here -- maybe naming a facial hairstyle something unflattering isn't going far enough. Maybe you have to commit genocide to really get one banned forever. Well, I guess a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. Any recommendations for an ethnic group I should cleanse? Anyone care about Norwegians? Bunch of smug, blond-haired, blue-eyed devils. And hey, because of the blond, blue-eyed thing, they're the kind of folks that Hitler would have loved, so you get the anti-Hitler demographic on your side right there. I think this could work.
But you know something, to really commit genocide, and do it right, it takes organization. And time. And I have so many things on my plate already right now. My wife and I are thinking about having kids, getting a house, watching more TV -- I don't see how I can squeeze a campaign of ethnic cleansing in the mix. Ah, forget it. Back to the name-calling.
2. That hair-only-on-the-edge-of-the-chin thing is now "The Mangy Lincoln".
The picture I got on the right isn't the most egregious example -- worse is when it's some slickster with a perfectly groomed line of hair trailing around the edge of his jaw, like a long line of ants in a daisy chain (another name idea: "Long Line of Daisy-Chaining Ants").
I guess this isn't the most offensive name possible, but I think have to get the mange in somewhere with one of these names. The mange is such a wonderfully sad and disgusting disease that fits so well with a lot of these facial hairstyles. I guess pretty much any facial hairstyle could be called "The Mangy Lincoln." Except a full beard. And a mustache wouldn't work for that either, since Lincoln didn't have one. Maybe a mustache is a "Reverse Lincoln"? Nah, not insulting enough.
3. The long-line-of-hair-down-the-middle-of-the- bottom-lip-and-chin thing is now "The Stripper's Pussy."
Sorry, I know this name's especially offensive, but just look at this guy. We have to fight fire with fire here, folks. This is baseball player Scott Speizio, who is the douchiest douche in doucheland, and he needs to know that his face looks like a stripper's pussy.
Not that I've actually seen any strippers in real life, with nether regions exposed or otherwise. I've honestly never been to a strip club, and I doubt I ever will. This is partially because I don't have many douche-y male friends, but also because strip clubs sound like the world's most depressing places to me. I doubt many of the strippers could really enjoying doing the whole stripping thing, so that's depressing right there. And the guys, to enjoy the show, would, I assume, have to think in some primitive part of their lizard-brains "Hey, this chick wants me," which is also very depressing, because it's so unbelievably untrue. Strip clubs seem like places for sexually abused women to perform for sexual abusers. So you can understand why I'm loath to go. Plus, the music probably sucks.
4. The bushy goatee is now "Your Momma's Pussy."
Again, I apologize, but my crudeness is a necessary means to a noble end. Actually, goatees are so mainstream that I hesitate to even really object that much, much less give it the most offensive name so far. But the shoe fits -- dude on the right, your face looks like your momma's pussy. Sorry, bushy goatee-wearers (not to mention their moms, who are really blameless in all this, but you can't make an omelette without breaking eggs).
Another thing that makes you look like a douche, I just realized, is posing for a picture with a "serious" look on your face. This guy seems to want you to think, "wow, he's deep and sexy and sexydeep, which is a new word I just invented because nothing else can capture how sexy and deep he is." And of course, to me, that always translates to "I am a douche."
5. The spare, wimpy goatee is now the "Your Stripper Momma's Pussy."
I make no apologies for this one. This is perhaps the worst facial hairtsyle of the bunch, and it deserves what it gets. "Your Stripper Momma's Pussy" is actually probably too tame. Maybe "Your Crabs-Infested Stripper Momma's Pussy"? I could go on but I won't. But again, I do have some reservations since the stripper mommas are blameless here -- they're only trying to put themselves through Harvard, right?
On a related topic, you know what else I hate? Restaurants with belly dancing. Call me sexually repressed if you like, but when I'm eating dinner with my family, I really don't want to see some middle-aged chick's pelvis rolling around in my face. The worst is when they come by the table and ask how you liked the show. You have to nod encouragingly and say "Oh, great. Nothing like undulating pale flesh when I'm eating tabouli."
I got into an argument once with a vehement woman (she was always vehement about something) about this, and I never really recovered from it. We were at a restaurant with belly dancing, and I was asking why this is acceptable. Isn't this an exploitation of women, for the sexual titillation of men? The vehement woman exploded, saying that was very sexist of me to say that, so I cowered whimpering in the corner and that was basically the end of the argument. But I wish I could have defended my position better.
Because really, what's the difference between belly dancing and stripping? A few clothes? I know, I know, belly dancing is a skill that you have to develop and takes muscle tone and yadda yadda -- but so does pole dancing. You're telling me you can jump on a pole, splay your legs around it, hold yourself upside down with your legs, slide down slowly, release your legs, and then do a hilarious puppet show with your labia (again, I haven't been to a strip club, so I'm not exactly sure what goes on there) without doing some serious calisthetics?
I think belly dancing is only acceptable because it's "ethnic." Ancient Middle Eastern harem-havin' guys had belly dancing, so instead of being nasty sexual exploitation, it's a cultural expression.
But, you say, what if women want to express their sexuality through belly dancing? Well, OK, yeah, I guess they have every right to -- but is there a way they could do it when I'm not eating? And not in a place where men are supposed to hoot and holler and put dollars in their clothes like a bunch of baying jackals with lots of disposable income? 'Cuz I may be just a simple country boy, but where I come from, that's called "hegemonic patriarchy commodifying female sexuality to gain feelings of power and sexual gratification."
I'm not sure how a discussion of facial hair turned into a rant about belly dancing, but there you go. That's what bad facial hair does to me. You see the pain and confusion it causes? So men, please, stop with the trendy facial hair. In fact, just stop being trendy at all. Everyone just wear and do the same things all the time. It's just easier that way.
I think the main thing I hate about most forms of male facial hair (henceforth known as "facial hairstyles") is that it always seems that the wearer is trying too hard. Or maybe it's that facial hairstyles go in and out of fashion so much, and people should know from looking at old pictures that today's hip look is always tomorrow's laughingstock. I'm not sure why it is exactly, but I am sure that a weird facial hairstyle usually means that the person is a douche.
There are acceptable facial hairstyles. Full beards are fine, because they are well-established over the centuries and don't connote anything in particular. I guess they sometimes mean "I am a professor," but not always, and hey, being a professor isn't necessarily a bad thing. And if you have the balls to grow one really long, like some Russian noble from the early 1600s, well, then you're the man. Now that's retro.
Big bushy Magnum P.I.-esque mustaches are acceptable, because they're funny. They're so hopelessly out of style that, if you have one, you've committed yourself to wearing a joke, all day, every day, and you have to admire that kind of gumption. Other facial hairstyles make men look like jokes, but the men aren't in on the joke, see, and they think they look hip, so that's just annoying. I doubt many guys with big, bushy mustaches really think they look hip, and if they do, well, that's all the funnier.
Pretty much all other facial hairstyles are horrible. In fact, I think they should all be renamed ("rebranded," if you will. Will you? No? OK, well, I don't blame you.) with disgusting, hateful names. I think if they're paired with nasty images through terrible names, the true nastiness of the styles will break through their pretensions of hipness like rays of fetid sunlight. Then, ideally, people sporting these forms of facial hair will be ridiculed using these new names, and then those people will commit suicide, and we'll rid ourselves of an entire generation of douchebags. That's the plan, anyway. So here's the first one:
1. The soul patch is now "Upside-Down Hitler Mustache."
See that douche in the picture on the right? By wearing the upside-down Hitler mustache, he is sending a secret signal that he hates Jews and wants them exterminated from the earth. That's what it means as of this moment, anyway. So the next time you see a guy on the street with a so-called soul patch, go up to him and shout, "Why do you want to kill all Jews?!?!" I do it constantly, and I've only been arrested a few dozen times. It's the least I can do to help rid the world of the upside-down Hitler mustache (and, as an added bonus, free the world of bigotry).
As an aside, a stand-up comedian (can't remember who) once noted how amazing it is that Hitler was able to make a certain mustache unusable forever. I mean, that's some remarkable evilness -- he was so evil that whatever he chose to put on his face would be destroyed for everyone. Idi Amin, Pol Pot -- sure they exterminated milions, but did they kill a hairstyle? I think not! Bunch of wannabes. Saddam Hussein even had some silly facial hair (the aforementioned Magnum P.I.-esque mustache), and no one even considered banning it forever. Hm, maybe he wasn't so evil after all. Crap, we shouldn't have invaded Iraq! Geez, now we figure it out!
Wait a minute, here -- maybe naming a facial hairstyle something unflattering isn't going far enough. Maybe you have to commit genocide to really get one banned forever. Well, I guess a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. Any recommendations for an ethnic group I should cleanse? Anyone care about Norwegians? Bunch of smug, blond-haired, blue-eyed devils. And hey, because of the blond, blue-eyed thing, they're the kind of folks that Hitler would have loved, so you get the anti-Hitler demographic on your side right there. I think this could work.
But you know something, to really commit genocide, and do it right, it takes organization. And time. And I have so many things on my plate already right now. My wife and I are thinking about having kids, getting a house, watching more TV -- I don't see how I can squeeze a campaign of ethnic cleansing in the mix. Ah, forget it. Back to the name-calling.
2. That hair-only-on-the-edge-of-the-chin thing is now "The Mangy Lincoln".
The picture I got on the right isn't the most egregious example -- worse is when it's some slickster with a perfectly groomed line of hair trailing around the edge of his jaw, like a long line of ants in a daisy chain (another name idea: "Long Line of Daisy-Chaining Ants").
I guess this isn't the most offensive name possible, but I think have to get the mange in somewhere with one of these names. The mange is such a wonderfully sad and disgusting disease that fits so well with a lot of these facial hairstyles. I guess pretty much any facial hairstyle could be called "The Mangy Lincoln." Except a full beard. And a mustache wouldn't work for that either, since Lincoln didn't have one. Maybe a mustache is a "Reverse Lincoln"? Nah, not insulting enough.
3. The long-line-of-hair-down-the-middle-of-the- bottom-lip-and-chin thing is now "The Stripper's Pussy."
Sorry, I know this name's especially offensive, but just look at this guy. We have to fight fire with fire here, folks. This is baseball player Scott Speizio, who is the douchiest douche in doucheland, and he needs to know that his face looks like a stripper's pussy.
Not that I've actually seen any strippers in real life, with nether regions exposed or otherwise. I've honestly never been to a strip club, and I doubt I ever will. This is partially because I don't have many douche-y male friends, but also because strip clubs sound like the world's most depressing places to me. I doubt many of the strippers could really enjoying doing the whole stripping thing, so that's depressing right there. And the guys, to enjoy the show, would, I assume, have to think in some primitive part of their lizard-brains "Hey, this chick wants me," which is also very depressing, because it's so unbelievably untrue. Strip clubs seem like places for sexually abused women to perform for sexual abusers. So you can understand why I'm loath to go. Plus, the music probably sucks.
4. The bushy goatee is now "Your Momma's Pussy."
Again, I apologize, but my crudeness is a necessary means to a noble end. Actually, goatees are so mainstream that I hesitate to even really object that much, much less give it the most offensive name so far. But the shoe fits -- dude on the right, your face looks like your momma's pussy. Sorry, bushy goatee-wearers (not to mention their moms, who are really blameless in all this, but you can't make an omelette without breaking eggs).
Another thing that makes you look like a douche, I just realized, is posing for a picture with a "serious" look on your face. This guy seems to want you to think, "wow, he's deep and sexy and sexydeep, which is a new word I just invented because nothing else can capture how sexy and deep he is." And of course, to me, that always translates to "I am a douche."
5. The spare, wimpy goatee is now the "Your Stripper Momma's Pussy."I make no apologies for this one. This is perhaps the worst facial hairtsyle of the bunch, and it deserves what it gets. "Your Stripper Momma's Pussy" is actually probably too tame. Maybe "Your Crabs-Infested Stripper Momma's Pussy"? I could go on but I won't. But again, I do have some reservations since the stripper mommas are blameless here -- they're only trying to put themselves through Harvard, right?
On a related topic, you know what else I hate? Restaurants with belly dancing. Call me sexually repressed if you like, but when I'm eating dinner with my family, I really don't want to see some middle-aged chick's pelvis rolling around in my face. The worst is when they come by the table and ask how you liked the show. You have to nod encouragingly and say "Oh, great. Nothing like undulating pale flesh when I'm eating tabouli."
I got into an argument once with a vehement woman (she was always vehement about something) about this, and I never really recovered from it. We were at a restaurant with belly dancing, and I was asking why this is acceptable. Isn't this an exploitation of women, for the sexual titillation of men? The vehement woman exploded, saying that was very sexist of me to say that, so I cowered whimpering in the corner and that was basically the end of the argument. But I wish I could have defended my position better.
Because really, what's the difference between belly dancing and stripping? A few clothes? I know, I know, belly dancing is a skill that you have to develop and takes muscle tone and yadda yadda -- but so does pole dancing. You're telling me you can jump on a pole, splay your legs around it, hold yourself upside down with your legs, slide down slowly, release your legs, and then do a hilarious puppet show with your labia (again, I haven't been to a strip club, so I'm not exactly sure what goes on there) without doing some serious calisthetics?
I think belly dancing is only acceptable because it's "ethnic." Ancient Middle Eastern harem-havin' guys had belly dancing, so instead of being nasty sexual exploitation, it's a cultural expression.
But, you say, what if women want to express their sexuality through belly dancing? Well, OK, yeah, I guess they have every right to -- but is there a way they could do it when I'm not eating? And not in a place where men are supposed to hoot and holler and put dollars in their clothes like a bunch of baying jackals with lots of disposable income? 'Cuz I may be just a simple country boy, but where I come from, that's called "hegemonic patriarchy commodifying female sexuality to gain feelings of power and sexual gratification."
I'm not sure how a discussion of facial hair turned into a rant about belly dancing, but there you go. That's what bad facial hair does to me. You see the pain and confusion it causes? So men, please, stop with the trendy facial hair. In fact, just stop being trendy at all. Everyone just wear and do the same things all the time. It's just easier that way.
Friday, September 25, 2009
What Was This Summer's Tolerable Pop Song?
As I get older, I get less and less connected to pop music. I'm sure that happens for everyone. But the difference with me is that when I do watch some awards show or something, I'm not all "What is this crap? In my day we had good music, like 2 Live Crew! And Gerardo!" I'm often more like "OK, well 80% of this stuff sucks, but that's always been the case. The other 20% here is actually quite good! How about that!"
And each summer I discover that I really like at least one artist that is eating up the pop charts (is that the right phrase? Is it "heating" up the pop charts? "Beating" up the pop charts? "Shooting" up the pop charts? "Shitting" up the pop charts? I like "shitting up the pop charts.") Last summer it was MIA, who I've been a fan of for a while. The previous summer it was Gnarls Barkley. They (not he) are awesome, even if they have the worst band name in the history of music. (Can you think of another that's more confusing while also being terribly un-clever?)
This summer I don't recall any pop artist being tolerable. Of course, I'm not paying a lot of attention. Oh, I did actually like the Beyonce song, the one in which she was proposing that everyone who likes her hand has to put a ring on it (does she have some kind of wonderful hand or something? I thought she was more famous for the more interesting parts of her anatomy. Unless she's secretly saying that if you like her ass you should put a ring on it? I've never heard of ass rings, but I am 100% sure that they will become all the rage very soon).
And by the way, Kanye was right. Beyonce should have won for that. That was such a great video that even I saw it. I'm not saying he should have rushed the stage like a lunatic and said so, of course. Though I do genuinely love bizarre interruptions in live TV. If Kanye had run up and said "Wu-Tang is for the children!" (see below video to catch reference) then I'd be totally behind him. But he kinda pissed on Taylor Swift right in front of her, and defended someone who wasn't interested in being defended, so that's kinda weird.
That's all I have to say. I'm more interested in what other people felt was this year's tolerable pop act. While you're thinking, here's the late, great Ol' Dirty Bastard just being Ol' Dirty Bastard:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b2-5GSjZvW8
And each summer I discover that I really like at least one artist that is eating up the pop charts (is that the right phrase? Is it "heating" up the pop charts? "Beating" up the pop charts? "Shooting" up the pop charts? "Shitting" up the pop charts? I like "shitting up the pop charts.") Last summer it was MIA, who I've been a fan of for a while. The previous summer it was Gnarls Barkley. They (not he) are awesome, even if they have the worst band name in the history of music. (Can you think of another that's more confusing while also being terribly un-clever?)
This summer I don't recall any pop artist being tolerable. Of course, I'm not paying a lot of attention. Oh, I did actually like the Beyonce song, the one in which she was proposing that everyone who likes her hand has to put a ring on it (does she have some kind of wonderful hand or something? I thought she was more famous for the more interesting parts of her anatomy. Unless she's secretly saying that if you like her ass you should put a ring on it? I've never heard of ass rings, but I am 100% sure that they will become all the rage very soon).
And by the way, Kanye was right. Beyonce should have won for that. That was such a great video that even I saw it. I'm not saying he should have rushed the stage like a lunatic and said so, of course. Though I do genuinely love bizarre interruptions in live TV. If Kanye had run up and said "Wu-Tang is for the children!" (see below video to catch reference) then I'd be totally behind him. But he kinda pissed on Taylor Swift right in front of her, and defended someone who wasn't interested in being defended, so that's kinda weird.
That's all I have to say. I'm more interested in what other people felt was this year's tolerable pop act. While you're thinking, here's the late, great Ol' Dirty Bastard just being Ol' Dirty Bastard:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b2-5GSjZvW8
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