Don't get your hopes up, America. Martha Stewart, a woman far colder and whiter than the whitest Christmas, declared that this will be "worst holiday ever." At least there's a place for coal in the Bush energy plan.
Undisputed master of the non-sequitur, the celebrity rimjob, and marriage Larry King scored an exclusive interview with Stewart, which airs tonight on CNN. In it, Stewart discusses her legal troubles, no doubt with the superiority she's known for and the lack of candor King demands. Not only did Stewart declare this Christmas "the worst ever," she went on to say that the season is "an unwelcome time for [her.] Very unwelcome." It's not certain whether Stewart's blanket rejection of the holiest day of the Christian year and implied disavowal of the celebration of the birth of Jesus, God's only Son and personification of redemption and love, is a result of her being an unfeeling succubus whose veins are filled with caustic sputum from the mouth of The Great Deceiver himself.
The news that this will be the worst Christmas ever is doubly upsetting, as the world is still reeling last week's announcement by Scandinavian fish lover Henrik Flintegaard that December 17 was "the worst day ever."
Tomorrow, I leave for vacation. Posts will be sporadic, but each missive will be delicately wrapped and yule-scented. They may be the only semblance of the Christmas joy you feel this year. Thank Martha and her vagina dentata for that.
Media Magnate/Succubus Martha Stewart Ruins Christmas.
Analogcabin @ 11:35 AM ------------------------- So this England place that you might have heard about is the same thing as Britain. Weird, I know. Weirder still is that apparently neither one is part of the US. I was shocked, too, but that's what's really awesome about life -- no matter how old you are, you can still learn more stuff.
Analogcabin @ 7:48 AM ------------------------- I've said it before and I'll say it again: Racism is something I just won't cotton. If you're like me -- courageous, loving, and accepting of the racial and homo potpourri that is America in the Aught Four -- I suggest you brace yourself for a little righteous fury.
Analogcabin @ 12:52 PM ------------------------- These are dark days when the Harlem Globetrotters are called upon to teach the youth of our nation about honesty. That's right. I'm talking about the same Harlem Globetrotters that have undertaken a massive deception for more than a half century -- consistently "defeating" "rival" "team" the Washington Generals. Nonetheless, Secretary of Education Rod Paige has seen fit to subsidize Globetrotter visits to more than 150 elementary schools in which students will be taught about honesty and ball-handling.
Analogcabin @ 11:14 AM ------------------------- Low Culture postulates that the addition of Mena Suvari to the Six Feet Under cast presages bad things to come. Perhaps, or perhaps a bit of Sapphic kanoodling between Claire and a new arty friend is exactly what we as a nation need. Analogcabin @ 6:51 AM ------------------------- There's big news today.
Analogcabin @ 11:31 AM ------------------------- For every Earth shattering breakthrough that's made at MIT, I'd bet there are thousands of these. I don't mean to suggest that it's not worth the trade off. It's just that I wonder whether the guy doing the world's biggest book research feels like an idiot in the faculty lounge.
Analogcabin @ 11:56 AM ------------------------- Analogcabin @ 11:15 AM ------------------------- Give me the name of a whale, and I'll give you a name better suited to a porn star.
Analogcabin @ 1:16 PM ------------------------- Lois Curren, MTV Executive in Charge of Series Development, you've done it again. You magnificent, magnificent bastard.
Analogcabin @ 1:39 PM ------------------------- Through a series of circumstances less than worth discussing, I discovered the below left link to my Amazon Wish List had been broken. This, of course, explains why I've yet to receive anything off it.
Analogcabin @ 10:40 AM ------------------------- Last week I captured America's imagination with my suggestion that dead White Castle denizen Nathaniel Jones would have made a great pitch man. It took me until today to find the much-hyped dancin', rollin', groovin', beaten video. Analogcabin @ 10:22 AM ------------------------- I'm in the middle of writing a music column for a yet-to-be-launched magazine that, according to the electronic press kit, is either for or about the lifestyles of professional athletes. I'm not totally sure what that lifestyle is, but I'm fairly certain it doesn't include much reading of music columns. I am fairly sure it includes Escalades, so I've mentioned them in the piece twice.
Analogcabin @ 12:19 PM ------------------------- Stanley Shepp has already proven having a silly name isn't legally actionable. For his next trick, he hopes to prove the same of teaching one's daughter about polygamy.
Analogcabin @ 12:57 PM ------------------------- I'm back from LA. Thanks to everyone that heaped beer and praise upon me Friday, which was no one.
Analogcabin @ 7:22 AM ------------------------- I'm headed to LA until Wednesday, but I'll see if they have the internet there. If you'd like to buy me drinks, I'll be at The Town House in Venice at midnight tonight. If you want to kill me, I'll be the 6'5" dude smoking PCP who's got nothing to live for. Analogcabin @ 10:46 AM ------------------------- Two sadnesses came to mind upon reading this article.
Analogcabin @ 10:37 AM ------------------------- It's only because I'm completely unmotivated that I found myself purusing the comments section of the Internet Movie Database's entry for The West Wing. OK. Purusing might be an overstatement, as there's only one comment. That one comment, though, made all my unmotivation worthwhile.
Analogcabin @ 12:04 PM ------------------------- By now you've all heard about Cincinnati's late, great 350 pounder Nathaniel Jones -- the man whose death will be ruled a homicide at the hands of the police, despite his poor health and drug use. This article contains something about Nate you might not know, however -- nightstick limbo wasn't the only dance he was doing in the White Castle parking lot that fateful night.
Analogcabin @ 11:47 AM ------------------------- Yesterday I received Playboy's gala fiftieth anniversary edition. After shaking free the subscription cards, I placed myself upon the toidy (as my ancestry calls the toilet) and prepped for a perusal and a poopie. As is customary with Playboy, the pages were cleaved with static stronger than Shoe Goo, but I peeled them apart heroically and searched for something of the appropriate length to read.
Analogcabin @ 9:12 AM ------------------------- It wasn't that long ago that I waxed disgusted about even the most veiled implication that presidential candidate/ghoul Dennis Kucinich is a sexual being. Today CNN ups the ante with a follow-up article on the surge of romantic interest in the tallowy also ran. Unfortunately, they've placed the article in the Offbeat section, thereby admitting the subtext of this entire Kucinich affair -- that the idea of finding a mate for this man is something akin to a small town holding a Dating Game contest for its blue ribbon sow.
Analogcabin @ 10:22 AM -------------------------
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Anyway, the whole "England as Soverign Nation" concept must have been what kept me from winning any of The Guardian's Best of Blogging 2003 Awards, which were announced last Thursday. My disappointment melted into utter dismissal of the entire affair when I read that the Best Written award went to a blog called Belle de Jour ("bell for you," translated from the Spanish) run by a London prostitute. I ate my words (delish, by the by) when I visited and found this "Bell for You" to be quite good. At times it tends toward the overly Erotic with a capital E, but if that's a crime, then lock me away, child, as I'm often told that my writing can toughen the softest parts.
But do the trials and travails of a London prostitute have enough buzz to knock Whatevs off the top of the charts? The answer should be obvs.
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Friday, December 19, 2003
The following is the headline of one of today's "Top Stories" on CNN.com -- Tooth Study Leaves Few in Appalachia Smiling. The article basically goes on to say that the Appalachian white trash segment of our society is the most toothless. We get it, CNN. Hillbillies don't have teeth. Real funny.
What headlines should we expect next week, CNN?
Jews Cheap, Spending Study Reveals.
Blacks Lead Nation in Watermelon, Fried Chicken Consumption.
Research Reveals Asians Incomprehesible, Not Trustworthy.
Hispanics First in Front Seat Population Density of Crappy Pick Up Trucks Filled With Scrap Metal.
I simply won't stand for it. If my battle means I have to create "satirical" racist newspaper headlines for months, even years on end, then I will.
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Thursday, December 18, 2003
In other elementary school ball handling news, charges against Michael Jackson are expected to be filed today. CNN reports that prosecuting DA Tom Sneddon has agreed to delay arraignment, return Jackson's passport, and allow him to travel overseas. Goodbye, Neverland. Hello, Thailand.
Sneddon's also expected to supply Jackson with an 11-year-old Latino boy, a script for roofies, and a jar of Vaseline.
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Wednesday, December 17, 2003
It's not that today's reenactment of the Wright Brothers' historic "flight" failed, thereby proving once and for all that manned aeronautics are a physical impossibility. It's not that Strom Thurmond's illicit quadroon is one of the kindest, most forgiving women ever, thereby proving that the fruit can indeed fall far from the tree. It's not that Jesse Jackson today shouted the lines, "What do we want? Justice! When do we want it? Now!", or that those lines were probably incomprehensible and mush-mouthed. It's not even that the words "illicit quadroon" appeared in the same paragraph as "Jesse Jackson" on a website that would like not to think of itself as racist.
The big news is that today is the worst day ever.
It's quite the statement, I know. Something really terrible must have happened in order for this to be the worst day ever. Some would say that Kristallnacht was the worst day ever, or the day Archduke Ferdinand's assassination led to the death of 20 million. Other more ponderous souls might say that January 3, 1938 was the worst day ever, as the splitting of the atom started us down the inextricable path toward our undoing. Wiseacres might say that the day Manimal was cancelled was the worst day ever.
Well those people are wrong because Henrik Flintegaard, custodian of Europe's largest fishtank, says so. "It's such a sad day," said Flintegaard upon hearing news that a fire caused his beloved fish tank to crack, pouring thousands of gallons of water and a lot of fish all over the floor. "The worst day ever."
Tragedy struck a fishtank today, and the world wept.
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Tuesday, December 16, 2003
LEVINE:
"Hey, Hawley! Long time no smell, dude...."
HAWLEY:
"Hi, Jeff. How's it going?"
LEVINE:
"Oh, pretty good. You know. Same old, same old. Gettin' close to finishing up on that whole DNA computing project. I've been tinkering with cloning vital human organs from my own genetic material on the side and, you know, incubating them in old freezers with de-activated plutonium. Then there's this hot little Sophomore quantum physics major that I'm advising. We've been focusing on her black hole, if you get my meaning. You?"
HAWLEY:
"Um. I don't know. I was, like, printing out some stuff on that really big printer in the computer lab the other day... it's, like, inkjet or something. Anyways, so I, like, printed out these really big pictures, you know? In color and everything. And I was thinking that I could do a bunch of them. I mean, it takes a ton of ink, but I'm pretty sure I could make a really big book, you know? I mean, really big. Maybe the biggest one ever."
LEVINE:
"Sweet, Hawley. Sounds awesome. What you got there? Pudding?"
HAWLEY:
"Yeah. Chocolate. My favorite."
He takes the pudding.
LEVINE:
"Great. Now get yourself some."
Biggest Book Author, Hawley, Shows Off His Stupid Work
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When I post things here, this is generally the keyboard I use. I use it for other things, too. Things like work, homophobic comments on Whatevs, and obsessive, sometimes violent fan mail for Robert Guillome. I pretty much type on it all day long. With my bare hands, mind you. Disgusting. Shouldn't someone clean this? It's no wonder everyone's got the flu.
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Monday, December 15, 2003
CNN reports that Keiko, the star of Free Willy not Keiko the star of Free My Willy, was buried in a secret ceremony in Oslo on Monday.
This leaves me with a single question: Is it really fair to call it a secret when no one cares?
Keiko's "caretaker" (a euphemism for "gay lover" if I've ever heard one) was a man called Dane Richards. Dane Richards? Could there be a more obvious gay porn name? Maybe Cock O'Dickerson, but even that's not much more obvious. Anyway, Dane described Keiko's burial like this:
It was beautiful. He went to the grave quietly, quickly, and peacefully, just like he died.
As opposed to how, Dane? Going to the grave bellowing the OutKast hit "Hey Ya!" and doing the robot, just like he lived?
He was a fucking whale. Don't these people realize we captured Saddam Hussein? Don't they know what that means?
It means it's time to sing "Hey Ya!" and do the robot, baby. On and on 'til the break of dawn.
Where Do You Bury a Dead Whale? Whale-ever! [RIMSHOT]
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Friday, December 12, 2003
Today CNN reports on the "news" that Ashton Kutcher has decided to pull out of his hit series Punk'd. The "news" must hit the Kutcher camp hard, as they're still reeling from the loss of the E in the show's title. The announcement comes hot on the heels of Kutcher's "pulling out" of Cameron Crowe's Elizabethtown for "scheduling conflicts" with bad acting, as well as his pulling out of consideration for a lead role in one of Steven Soderburgh's next films.
At least we know there's no need for him to pull out of Demi Moore.[RIMSHOT]
When asked to respond to the news, Lois Curren unleashes the most absurd quote of the month:
...[It's] probably a happy day for Hollywood. Celebrities can rest a little easier knowing that the Punkings have ceased.
And how, Lois. And how.
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It is now fixed, so express your gratitude and buy me something. I wouldn't do the same, but don't let that stop you.
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Thursday, December 11, 2003
That lingering feeling that no one will read it and that I'm trying to write primarily about R&B -- a style of music for which I have absolutely no affinity -- is leaving me questioning the value of the internet as a primary source and whether it's possible to sound excited about Grant Hill's wife Tamia's third record when I've not heard it or her previous two.
Despite all that, I'm in the mood to write about music. Convenient, because it's the perfect time to year to unleash my list of the 10 Records I'd Love To Shove Down Your Irritatingly Hip Little '80s Button Jean Jacket Throat Until You Shit Singles.
10: Ima Robot -- Ima Robot
I haven't even heard it, and still I know that Ura Douchebag.
9: Electric Six -- Fire
The best thing about this record is that it's not playing right now. Electric Sucks.
8: Ryan Adams -- Rock N Roll
If you fling a bunch of shit against a wall, some of it will stick. It's about percentage, Ryan. Not volume. Ryan Badams.
7: The White Stripes -- Elephant
I dream of the day when Meg White stands up, walks over to Jack, and smacks the shit out of his pompous, starfucking ass. "Honestly, my biggest inspirations are Deaf Willy Rickets records, but you can only find those on wax cylinder." Smellephant.
6: The Strokes -- Room on Fire
Granted. Tom Petty's "American Girl" would have been cool if Jim Morrison sang on it. Point taken. You pulled it over on everyone once, now you have the balls to take another shot? Evidently Spin is The Strokes largest shareholder. The Jamokes.
5: Ryan Adams -- Love Is Hell, Part 1
Parker Posey. Big fucking deal. Who hasn't? Love is smell.
4: Interpol -- Turn on the Bright Lights
Turn them back off. I already passed on New Order, you poncey pricks. This wasn't even released in 2003, and still people harp on it.
3: The Rapture -- Echoes
Aren't the Strokes enough? The Crapture.
2: Ryan Adams -- Love is Hell, Part 2
Is it worse to have once been good, like Adams on Whiskeytown's Stranger's Almanac, or to be Electric Six? How 'bout This Is Hell.
1: The Darkness -- Permission to Land
Permission not granted, you ridiculous bunch of late to the irony party poseurs. Motley Crue records are still in print. They're better and funnier because they're not joking.
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Wednesday, December 10, 2003
Smart money takes the bet that the phrase "teaching one's daughter about polygamy" gets this site Google hits.
According to CNN, Shepp is Morman that really believes in more, man. Soon after he and his ex-wife married and converted to Mormanism, he became obsessed with the idea of polygamy. He claims it's because the practice will secure his place next to John Smith at God's Table in the Heavenly Sizzler. Suffice it to say, that didn't fly with Mrs. Shepp, who'd rather broast to perfection in Lucifer's rotisserie than be one slice in a sloppy Shepp sandwich.
Anyone that's ever tried to finagle a ménage à trois, knows that, when the stakes are high, Malcolm was right. But Shepp takes any means necessary to a new level, incorporating daughterly nagging into his arsenal.
"Well, honey, Mommy's not comfortable allowing Daddy to go forth and multiply with Ms. McGuire, even though there's plenty of Daddy to go around, so I guess that means Daddy will spend the eternity of afterlife being scraped free of his flesh by 1001 incubi wielding white hot kitchen graters."
Shepp Counting His Imaginary Harem
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The Spoonbender author tried to ply his friends with alcohol Friday at Venice's piss-scenter, The Town House.
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Friday, December 05, 2003
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The first is that it's unfortunate Gordon Lightfoot mistook interest in his career piqued by his near-demise for the public's desire that he return to recording. "Sundown," "Carefree Highway," and "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" were plenty.
The second is that the story's headline, Convalescent Lightfoot Eyes Comeback, makes me wish there were a boxer known as The Convalescent Lightfoot. Like Roberto "The Convalescent Lightfoot" Duran.
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Thursday, December 04, 2003
It was crafted with what is likely unintentional hilarity by Sean Wilson of Los Angeles. I find his choice of paragraph breaks, use of "SPOILER ALERT," and core complaint humorous. And the age of the comment makes it especially rich. For additional Sean Wilson laughs, check out the list of his other IMDB comments.
Date: 10 May 2001
Summary: I CANNOT BELIEVE IT
SPOILER ALERT
I cannot believe that they killed off Ms. Landingham.
She was one of the best people on this show, that is whenever she was feature on the show.
They could of gotten rid of a lot of other people.
Like that new White House Counsel, played by Oliver Platt. I don't like him very much.
I know the whole point of a season finale is to shock people, but why kill off one of the people you have been used to seeing every week. This just doesn't make any sense to me.
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Wednesday, December 03, 2003
What exactly am I talking about? I can't put it any better than CNN:
The video, shot from inside and outside the White Castle restaurant, showed Nathaniel Jones greeting a friend inside the restaurant early Sunday morning, and then dancing briefly. He then went into the parking lot, where he continued to dance and march like a soldier. Later, he fell down and rolled down a hill.
So I know I'm not alone in demanding the release of this video. I don't even care about the beating part. I'd pay good American money for uncut surveillance footage of a 350 pound man dancing, marching like a soldier, and rolling down a hill outside of a White Castle. Fat guys rolling down hills? That kind of thing is the soul of comedy.
If you've been to White Castle you understand that Nate Jones would be the perfect White Castle version of Subway's Jared. No one that eats at White Castle has delusions of weight loss; they just want a good time late night. Am I right? So what says good time? A big fat guy blowing a couple rails of coke, grabbing some sliders, meeting friends, dancing, marching, rolling around, and smoking some angel dust, that's what.
Unfortunately, he died. Whether it was at the hands of Cincinnati's finest or as a result of the volatile combination of high blood pressure, PCP, cocaine, and steamed mini hamburgers doesn't really matter. We've all lost the greatest fast food spokesman that never was.
I hope we don't remember Nate how he died -- squirming around that White Castle parking lot, trying in vain to hide his gigantic frame from the officers' blows. Let's remember him how he lived -- dancing around that White Castle parking lot, his belly full of sliders and his blood full of yayo.
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Tuesday, December 02, 2003
You might have noticed that I didn't describe searching out the volume's three standard pictorials. That is because I'm a gentleman not a German, and therefore choose not to mix doodie and naked lady pictures.
I settled on David Mamet's "To My Son" piece -- a laundry list of "truths about women, handshakes, and necrophilia." I was passably amused while I passed past amuses-bouche, though I found one of the truths unsettling. I'm paraphrasing because I'm lazy, but it went something along the lines of "quit school because real education comes from bourbon." Or thereabouts.
Now, I don't know about this Mamet character (his name is ominously close to Mehmet) but I'm an American, and I believe in education. School is important, because it's there that you learn stuff. I don't think learning is something Mamet and his fancy Pulizter should step to.
Now there will be those of you that say, "Step into the nineties, brother! The days of education are over. Have you looked at the standardized test scores? Schools are making children dumber than ever before. Let's just fuck the whole debacle and get stoned."
Well, I think this article might set your thinking right, friend. Schools aren't making kids dumber, retards are.
Thanks to Bush's No Child Left Behind legislation, we've been able to discover the true depth of retards' stupidity. You see, under the law, all of a school's students are required to score at or above grade level in reading and math standardized tests. That includes the retards. Unfortunately, the retards persist in dragging down school averages, and when that happens, funding gets pulled. When funding gets pulled, everyone gets hurt. That includes education, and that means learning itself suffers.
Unless you're like David Mamet and want learning to suffer, I think you know needs to be done.
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Monday, December 01, 2003
I'm with CNN on the subtle jab. In fact, I applaud it. What's got my goat is that the article off-handedly mentions that Kucinich has been married not once, but twice. Perhaps I overlooked something, but I recall the first article conjuring images of an ugly idealist, driven to public service by his utter dearth of charm or looks. It's an image I was creeped out by, certainly, but ultimately OK with. The serial divorcee Kucinich is a much more repulsive notion, and when considered in the context of the article, I'm driven to wonder if women are completely daft.
Ah. The use of "daft." It's like a thorough Gold Bond powdering of the genitals after a hot shower.
Dennis Kucinich Offers a Female Reporter an Exclusive. Penising.
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