Take THAT, Guernica!

No, this isn't my review of Revenge of the Sith. Don't worry, Invisible Audience, the review has been written and is merely waiting for deployment. I'm just waiting on a few of my straggling nerdflock to finally go out and see the damn movie.

In the meantime here's some musings that've been Ruminating in my head for a while. Enjoy, hobags!

• Are there any doctors (that work with adults) that use the term "tummy"? For example: "Mr. Jones, there's been some Gastric Acid leakage. What this means is that we're going to have operate on your tummy."
• Do you think the midget who played Alf ever had sex while wearing the costume? Or do you think anyone humped the lifeless puppet?
• Is Naughty Hypnotist the worst career that a prospective Son-In-Law can have, at least in the Father-in-law's eyes? "So, Pumpkin, how'd you two meet?" "I don't really remember..."
• As children, do you think that everyone blamed everything on Jesus, just because they knew he would take the blame? "Zacchariah says that you broke the window. Is that true, Jesus?" "Yea, though I did not break this window, I shall take the punishment for the breaking of all of the windows in my Father's world."
• Do monkeys think other Monkeys Smoking is as funny as we humans find it? Cuz man, that shit is HIGH-larious.
• Are there any wacky Undertakers in the world? The Patch Adams of the Funeral Home scene, if you will?
• Will I ever find men getting hit in the groin not funny? Is there anyway I can grow out of this?
• At what point does a puppeteer admit that he plays with dolls for a living?
• Does anyone try to rock the Hitler mustache these days? (Interesting fact - in my freshman year at College, one of the PoliSci teachers definitely had the Hitler 'stache. Dude, what the fuck?)
• What scares ghosts? Besides that two key playing on the piano that Venkman does in Ghostbusters.
• How come things like the Great Molasses Flood of 1919 never happen today? I don't mean specifically molasses related disasters, but crazy ass weird shit on a large scale. You never hear of it raining Splenda in Cleveland or a tidal wave of Pez breaking out in Provo.
• Do superheroes dry clean their costumes? Won't special fabrics that can withstand intense heat and alternative laws of physics require more TLC than the Rinse Cycle can provide?
• What if COBRA was really the good guys and GI Joe was just the military for an oppressive regime? Think about it, man...
• Are Evil Henchman Unionized? I'm sure they have a phenomenal benefits package.
• In the future, will REO Speedwagon be played on Classical Music stations? And will that officially mark the beginning of the apocalypse? Or would that be when Mr. Mister gets some classical airtime? "Take...these broken wings..."
• Has anyone ever tried the "Beads for Boobies" exchange outside of a drunken party setting? Just a dude walking down the street in the middle of the day in some quaint suburban town, offering Soccer Moms cheap plastic necklaces for a quick peak at their funbags?
• When will the Viking Horned Helmet make a fashion comeback? Isn't it due? How about the cravat?
• Have any Heads of State ever given friendship bracelets as tokens of alliances or truces? "But Premier, the Americans did send this lovely bracelet." "Look at the weaving on this thing. This must've taken at least one night of babysitting. And he used purple -- I love purple! CALL OFF THE ATTACK!" "Yes, sir." "And get my new BFF on the phone forthwith!"
• Will we ever look back on the sexuality of today's youngsters and think it's quaint?
• Am I officially old for asking that question?
• Do robots hate Emoticons as much as the rest of us?
• Did Brandon ever do "funny" stuff to Vicky, the robot on Small Wonder?
• Was the first person to ever get inside of a submarine and go underwater in it the craziest muthafuckah ever, or does that honor belong to the first person to ever try and eat a lobster?
• How come "Playing with a Giant Parachute" like we did in Gym isn't an Olympic Sport today? Man, I would kick way too much ass if it were.

IF anyone has any answers or thoughts on the above questions - please feel free to enlighten me.

You've Got Seven Kinds of Cockbreath!*

*from Deadwood, in a scene in which Trixie, the hooker with a heart of gold but the mouth of a trucker, advises one of her fellow whores to brush her teeth for a funeral.

And now the Greatest Hits of the Week. Rope-a-dope!

--RIDDLE ME THIS One of the greatest screen villains of all time passed away this week. Frank Gorshin, best known as The Riddler on the 60s Batman TV series, died on tuesday due to Lung Cancer, Emphysema, and pneumonia. He was probably one of the best, most manic, and most memorable villains a kid could watch; he seemed to throw himself into the role and into the tacky neon colored universe without any trepidation. He will be missed.

--THE TIMELESS ART OF SEDUCTION--YOU GOTTA JOIN IN! So I am prone to developing impossible crushes on random people. My newest victim? Bex Schwartz, a punky little popcult commentator who is on a bunch of those VH1 shows that devote hours talking about how sad it is that we're obsessed with celebrities. Bex is pretty funny and seems to have a weird pixie energy that just leaks from the TV set like Rayon gas into my house. So when I did some searching, I found out that she has her own blog here. Check it out. She's pretty funny, definitely cute, and incredibly endearing. I sent her an email, so who knows? Is this the beginning of a love connection? No, no it's not. Sigh.

--BE A LITTLE MORE SELECTIVE, BUDDY There's a new ad for Budweiser Select (their low carb/no taste beer) in which a man orders one at a bar, turns and sees a gaggle of models, also drinking the beer, and then he approaches them. The ad ends with him having a conversation with one of the models while they both enjoy their Bud Selects. Have you seen this? Do you know about this? Guess what, Dude -- if you're drinking the same thing as Models, then you're a pussy. You can do coke with them, or shoot up in the bathroom, or just have some Ecstasy induced orgy. But when you display the same taste in alcoholic drinks, that's when you've become a giant gaping vagina. Good day, sir. I believe I said "GOOD DAY"!

--DR. HANK McCOY ENJOYS TOSSED SALADS AND SCRAMBLED EGGS In a quick bit of a nerd update, lemme inform my fellow geeks that Kelsey Grammer (Sideshow Bob, Frasier Crane) has been cast as Beast in the upcoming X3. Avi Arad (Marvel Studios CEO) has said in this interview that Grammer will be both in make up and also that Beast will be rendered through CGI, so there's that. Also Maggie Grace, snobbish Shannon from Lost, is in talks to be Kitty Pryde, and they're still looking for Colossus and Angel. I liked the Colossus of X2, but then again he didn't have many lines, so perhaps he needs to do more in the new film than just be shiny.

--WHAT AM I, SOME SORT OF CLOWN SENT HERE TO AMUSE YOU? When Aliens land on this planet and eventually see the cache of Sci-Fi films that we have produced as a race, I wonder what they're going to think of us. They're either shown as being Evil, intent on killing us and/or eating us (ID4, Predator, Alien series, Killer Klowns from Outer Space). Or else they're these doped up pidgin speakin' retards (ET, Chewbacca, Yoda, Jar Jar Binks, Meathead from Meatballs 2, Mork). Or they're just lame, boring losers (most of the aliens in Star Trek). I'm just saying I think there should be a government position whose duty is to make sure all sci-fi films and tv series are quickly hidden when Aliens arrive so as not to queer the deal. All that will be left will be Tron and Sliders, and all will finally be right with the world.

--WHAT THIS MOVIE NEEDS IS A CAST OF BUNNIES I was first shown these movies two years ago or so, thanks to my friend Julie. They're 30 second interpretations of beloved movies as reenacted by bunnies. How can you lose? They're hilarious, and perfectly capture all of those great moments from all of the movies they adapt.

--THE ORIGINAL ODD COUPLE If I ever get two pets at or around the same time, I'm definitely gonna name them Hippie & Homey. Doesn't matter whether or not they're the same species or two different kinds of pets, that will be their names. this isn't really news or interesting, but I just want to announce my intentions. So Look Out, World -- Hippie and Homey are on their way!

--WHAT IS THIS GUY'S OBSESSION WITH BUNNIES? Another great lil cartoon, that I swore I linked to previously on this blog but I couldn't find it, can be found here. The back story is that Warner Bros. , in a bid to appeal to a younger audience, are going to release a new EXTREME version of their Looney Tunes characters called Loonatics. One of the new characters is Buzz Bunny, as parodied in the video. It's full of coarse language but the naughty bits are all bleeped out, so play at own risk.

--WHY AREN'T THERE PUDDING SHOTS? Pudding is delicious. I don't think anyone can argue against that. And if you do, then the terrorists have truly won. Meanwhile Jello is kind of okay, but nowhere near as heavenly as Pudding, and yet there are Jello shots. Scientists of the world -- start working on alcoholic Pudding shots. I know it sounds disgusting, but it very well may be the greatest invention man ever undertook.

--THIS IS AN ADVENTURE... The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou is out on DVD and I can't endorse it enough. A lot of people were lukewarm towards it when it came out. I thought it was really funny and laughed through most of the film in the theater. On DVD, I don't know if it's not as funny, but I do laugh less. However, the trade off is that I just appreciate the film so much more. It's this weird treatise on dreams, greatness, and how those two things can suddenly fade away into oblivion, slipping away while you're distracted by life. Co-writer Baumbach once said that Zissou's world is one created by a child; it's the child's idea of the adult world. What makes the film work so well is that this fantastical world -- where Jaguar Sharks roam, everyone gets a glock (the interns have to share), and there's still wonder to discover -- that world is populated by the same neurotic, depressed, unhappy, and jaded people that live in our world. That juxtaposition just gives the film its own sense of beauty. Amazing soundtrack, amazing visually, just amazing over all.

--GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH My favorite band, and the best concert I've ever been to, The Flaming Lips have recently released a documentary entitled The Fearless Freaks. It's a great movie. You know how people say that Stop Making Sense is a good movie that can be enjoyed by everyone -- you don't have to be a Talking Heads fan to like Demme's concert movie, etc. Well that's bullshit since the entire movie is just Talking Heads music; I like the Talking Heads so I like Stop Making Sense, but I can't see a nonfan raving about the movie. However, a nonfan CAN enjoy Fearless Freaks. The movie isn't just concert footage, there is a lot of concert footage in the film, but the movie is less about the actual music (although Lips music is playing in the fore/background throught the movie) than the people who craft it. Lead singer and Willy Wonka in training Wayne Coyne shows how he lives in a ghetto in Oklahoma City and works on his impossible movie and just approaches random people and seems to inspire a sort of manic glee in everyone around him. Definitely great -- especially THE scene with Steven Drozd. Check it out, support some lunatics.

--THESE TURTLES AREN'T GOING TO SQUASH THEMSELVES Here's another cartoon, this one depicting a bunch of outtakes from the Super Marios Bros. games. It's not great, but I chuckled, and isn't that kinda the point? It's not? Damn.

--WHAT'S GOING INTO MY EARS?!?! Sigur Ros - "Staralfur". It's a song off their album Agaetis Byrjun, and is featured in The Life Aquatic (towards the end -- when they're all in the sub). It's just a great soul crunching song. It's the type of song you want playing when you sleep with someone for the first time. Not fuckin' them, but actually sleeping together; your bodies forming quotation marks that surround an unspoken confession of happiness. It's a beautiful song that seems to make time slow down and everything shine a lil brighter. Also listening to : Mike Doughty, Smofe + Smang - Live in Minneapolis; Sufjan Stevens, A Sun Came!; The Decemberists, 5 Songs; Mike Doughty, Haughty Melodic; The Decemberists, Castaways and Cutouts; Mike Doughty, Skittish/Rockity Roll; The Decemberists, Her Majesty; Radiohead, "No Surprises Please" (as per mi amigo's instructions); The Books, Lost and Safe; The Flaming Lips, LateNightTales.

--WHAT'RE YOU LOOKING AT? Besides all the crap listed above, I'm also watching Scrubs Season 1 DVD; Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events; Lost; Tarantino's CSI Finale (thought it sucked); PTI; Jeopardy: Tournament of Champions; Episode III; Ed (the great late dramedy, not the monkey movie with Joey Tribiani); the tres sexy trailer for Mr & Mrs Smith; trying to avoid Britney and Kevein: Chaotic at all costs.

--ILLITERACY PREVENTION: Fool on the Hill by Matt Ruff. www.tvgasm.com. both great for different reasons.

--WHO DO YOU WANT TO PUNCH IN THE NECK? Britney & K-Fed, Juanita Madden, Lindsay Lohan's Dietician/Coke Dealer, The Entire US Senate -- but especially Frist, Seth Macfarlane, T.O., Rob Thomas, the entire UPN fall lineup, Donald Trump, and Clarence Thomas for wanting to be NFL Commissioner.

"So this is how Liberty ends--to the sound of thunderous applause."

--Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith

A Lone Dork's Journey into Night

You know those pathetic people that HAVE to see something first? They trudge out and watch a movie as it's premiered at Midnight all for the sake of either something that they love or merely for bragging rights of when they saw it.

Last night I was one of those people.

I ventured out into the maddening crowd to witness the spectacle of Star Wars: Episode 3 - Revenge of the Sith (man, that's a long title). For the sake of any of my friends who are interested in seeing the movie I'm not going to talk about the actual film itself until Sunday/Monday. So fellow Nerdflock, you have your deadline -- I will not be held responsible if you have not seen it by then and I ruin something for you. I'm avoiding saying anything about the flick so as not to color or taint my friends' viewings -- I will give them no reason to have either high expectations or low ones.

Instead I want to talk about HOW I saw the movie; more specifically, I want to talk about the random occurrences that seemed to plague me throughout the night. For no matter what I think of Episode III, last night was definitely one of the most unique and memorable moviegoing occasions of my entire life.

--So I get into my seat around 11:30. It should be noted that I'm alone. Lack of friends and an unwillingness to care to make new ones in my lil peninsula I call Hell has left me in quite a solitary situation. It's okay. I nursed and groomed the misanthropic social misfit image in high school, I can do it in the real world too. Of course I don't mean the Cool Loner type; I'm no Fonz. More like Ally Sheedy in The Breakfast Club. Except I don't get to bang Emilio Estevez...which may be the true tragedy of my life.

--Looking around the theater, I notice that there seems to be a weird divide. There's your average misunderstood high school dorks -- spouting Simpsons quotes and rockin' Hot Topic apparel ("Yeah! I buy clothes from the EDGY subsidiary of The Gap! Take that CONFORMISTS! Maybe now my dad will pay attention to me."). There are casual discussions about various Net rumors and Ain't It Cool news articles: just your run of the mill, quiet spazzes. And then there's the other group -- they're either Nerds in Hiding (wearing baseball caps, polo shirts, and making out with girls. GIRLS!), or just the casual fan who wants to go into school the next day to talk about it. These are the high school kids that come in packs in their SUVs and Jeeps that their parents bought and are full of empty souvenirs of weekends past. Lastly, there's the kids. Adorable happy kids that all have fucked up hair like they slept in the dryer. Shouldn't these kids be asleep by now? In my row there are 4 preteen girls who just sit there talking about Episode I and Episode II, raving about different scenes. Maybe these Prequels do speak to a different generation. Although whatever heartwarming moment of clarity that occurs while I witness their enthusiasm is quickly doused when I notice that the woman that accompanied them reeks of cheap rum, cheaper vodka, and what can only generously be referred to as third world grade cigarettes.

--That's when the fighting began. I don't mean any clash of cultures or nerd tribes. I mean actual fighting betwixt two young boys. These lads marched to the front of the theater, standing just underneath the mammoth screen. They were clad in empty Corona boxes, lifejackets, and trash bags for capes. They carried flashlights and then pretended to have a lightsaber duel. People started laughing and clapping, cheering on these low rent Jedi Knights. I sat there nervously pondering, Are these my people? Is this where I belong? I'm not like them, am I? Then, when someone started shouting out quotes from The Karate Kid ("He's gonna need a body bag!" "Sweep the Leg!"), I laughed along with them. Oh well, at least they provide me with some joy. Dammit, I am like them. Freakin' melvins.

--The retarded and poverty stricken Jedis returned to their seats amongst thunderous applause. Then there were some commercials, The Twenty (which is a giant commercial -- but it has commercials in it), and the PreFlight Instruction reel (No Smoking. No Cell phones. Buy Coca-Cola!). Now right before the trailers start, two New and Different Nerds jump into the fray and march to the front of the theater, this time wielding real (as in plastic toys) lightsabers. They started to duel -- actually not that badly. But the crowd had already chosen their favorites, and tonight was not the night for these young dorks and their fancy weaponry. So the booing starting. A lot of yelling of "Already Been Done" and "You SUCK!" echoed throughout the theater. They quickly looked up to the back, signaling for some unseen newcomer to join them. Slowly but surely their friend came to the front, and the nerds stopped dueling. Newcomer faced all of us and said, "Hi -- my name is Joshua and I'm collecting for the Jimmy Fund. I actually wouldn't be here if it wasn't for the Jimmy Fund. I had Lymphoma in my chest. But thanks to the Jimmy Fund, I'm going to be OK." An eerie psychic shudder spread through the crowd like a wave of mutilation. Everyone was thinking the same thing:

"Did we just boo the kid with cancer?"

It was this moment of horrible realization that seemed to saturate everyone in the crowd. It was so awkward. You know that time you made fun of someone, and turned around and they were right there listening the whole time? Multiply that discomfort by a theater full of people, and throw in some good ole Cancer guilt. It was one of the best moments I've ever witnessed. Suddenly everyone was fishing around for some money for this guy. God, I hope it was a scam.

--Then I watched the movie. 140+ minutes later, the movie ends and the mass exodus begins.

--I pride myself on never leaving a movie to take a piss. I just hold it in like a camel. It's one of my many special talents that women find oh so appealing. The same could not be said for some bearded freak in the row behind me that kept leaving every 10 minutes. Although that probably wasn't urine related but instead just the Acid kicking in a little too hard for him to handle. "Everything is so...so...significant!" And people, when you're moving throughout a row of people seated -- don't grab the back of the seats in front of you. You're not scaling Kilimanjaro. It's annoying as hell -- especially for those of us with long hair that don't like having strangers put their fingers in it, ya gross fucks.

--ANYWHOSKI, after the the movie I gotta micturate like a racehorse. To utilize one of my favorite new phrases, "My back teeth were swimming". Mmm...mouth full of piss. So I go into the bathroom, and there's a line. (Two places you can always count on a line at the Men's Toilet: Sci-Fi Conventions, Star Wars Premieres. I'm not proud that I know this, I just do.) So I wait my turn and go to the urinal. Shortly after, a guy comes up next to me and takes over the now unoccupied urinal to my right. He's carrying a bucket of popcorn in his hand. He places the bucket on top of the urinal, unzips, unsheathes, and then starts to piss without any hands. Why doesn't he need hands, you ask? Because they're too busy shoving popcorn into his mouth! I just kept looking over -- a cardinal Men's Room sin, but come on! I was shocked! He finishes up, zips up, grabs the bucket, and continues to snack on it on his way out -- without washing his hands or anything. Also he didn't flush, which is just rude.

--So I come out of my daze by this whole disgusting display, finish up and turn to to leave. Now behind me, while I was peeing I noticed a woman was just standing in the rest room. She looked fairly older (mid to late forties) and had a cane. I just assumed she was some young kid's mother too afraid to let her son go into the lavatory alone. As I walk away, I notice in the corner of my eye that she then walks up to what was previously my urinal, unzips, and begins pissing into it. HabbaHabbaWHAAAAAA? Now I'm fairly used to transgender people -- I've met a couple at my liberal arts college and in Provincetown, MA. One of my good friends is undergoing the process currently. So I have no problem with transsexuals or "Trannies", if you will. I would like to think that I could tell if this was just a Dude Lookin Like A Lady, or if it was some weird sort of costume prank. Well it was neither of those things. S/he was definitely dolled up like a woman -- the thick clunky jewelry you see in middle aged woman in my area, feminine glasses, tight girl pants, girl shoes, hair in some sort of quaf not seen outside of Goodfellas. And if it was a joke, wouldn't HE be playing it off in the men's room? Making a joke about it so that other guys don't think he's queer (to use the local vernacular)? One of the oddities about my locale is that there's rampant homophobia -- but it's never directed at gay people, at least not to their faces. You can call Straight Joe a Faggot, but don't even think about saying that to Gay Marty. It's a weird situation, and one that apparently extends to transgender people. I just felt like this Tranny hadn't received the instruction booklet that states "If you are trying to pass -- don't use the bathroom of your original gender". But then, maybe the line to the Ladies' Room was just that unbearable. So my mind was reeling as I walked out of that bathroom: "Dude was eating on a urinal? She-male in the bathroom? What? What Just Happened? This is not my beautiful house."

It was the close of an eventful and unforgettable night as I staggered my way through the crowd of nerds at 3 in the morning. No story in a galaxy far far away can compete with the random rollercoaster of events of that night...although my story doesn't have a hyperkinetic green midget or an army of wookies.

So I guess that makes us about even, Lucas.


ALTERNATE TITLES FOR THIS ENTRY: A Hard Dork's Night ; Fear and Loathing in a Galaxy Far Far Away ; The Misadventures of Lola and Yoda ; Dawn of the Dorks ; The Real Phantom Menace -- Eating in the Bathroom ; The O.Shemale ; Star Wars: A Nerd Hope ; The Hitchhiker's Guide to the -- Oh my god! Is that Lady Taking a Leak in the Urinal? ; Aquateen HungerGeeks ; Neurotic Monkey and the Temple of Dorks ; How's Your Nerds ; Take That, Cancer Boy!

Lowered Expectations

In approximately 14.5 hours I will be sitting in a dark theater surounded by my fellow nerd brethren watching Episode III as it is unveiled at a Midnight screening. Most reviews thus far have been very favorable. Unfortunately that doesn't mean anything to me nor does it portend either a good or bad movie. The only way I can ensure that the latest Star Wars will be any good (or even salvageable) is to keep my expectations low. Very low, in fact. The other two movies in the prequel trilogy were not just bad entries in the canon of Nerd lore but also just bad movies that were barely entertaining on any level. And yet, every time I see a trailer for a Star Wars movie, my heart does soar a bit -- mainly because those trailers are cut so well that each movie promises to be the zenith of cinema as we know it. So I let myself get a lil excited, telling myself (after the assraping of Phantom Menace) that it's not going to be any good so don't expect it to be -- and sure enough what little hope and happiness was reserved for these films are quickly dashed upon the rocks of mediocrity and disappointment. So now I approach this third and (supposedly) final film with the lowest of expectations -- even with the critics' applause ringing in the back of my head. I merely ignore that and assume it will be another subpar evening spent with people who join me in hoping for something great but will also leave the theater feeling crestfallen and used (except for that kid who dressed up like Boba Fett -- he just feels stupid).

But this trend of lowering my expectations to enjoy a particular product isn't restricted to all things Lucas. This extends beyond a galaxy far far away to TV shows I enjoy, new books by authors I like, new albums from favorite bands, and even social outings with my friends. In order to truly enjoy something I have to downplay any hint of greatness that may occur and accept that it will, in all probability, be kinda lame.

The truth is, I'm sick of it.

I'm sick of wanting something great, but not even letting myself want it. I'm sick of being used to disappointment -- what the hell is that? Why is that such a pervading force in our lives? Our parents tell us "Life isn't fair" and we all accept that most people in this world won't get what they want (unless they're beautiful, rich, or some combination of the two). As soon as I discover some new opportunity, I get excited by it but ultimately that excitement is corraled by the knowledge that it's not going to happen for me. Maybe that makes me a pessimist. But more often than not it's not my pessimism that makes me glum, it's my idealism.

It's the fact that at the Age of 23 I still think there's an adventure around the bend. That I can still find that Fantasy Woman and fall perfectly in love with her forever and ever. That wonder and miracles and all that other stupid cliched bright eyed bullshit still exists. I want to believe in Booby Traps, Treasure Maps, Mad Scientists, Super powers, Secret Governments, Lost Cities, Aliens, Destiny, Hidden Monsters, Prankster Gods, and Love at First Sight. It's lame and it's stupid and it's pretty pathetic -- but I want all that.

I want to step foot on another planet before I die, or enter another realm of existence without the assistance of drugs, or become part of a arcane myth, or have some pursuit that can be described as "Death Defying" and "Impossible".

But as I get older, I realize that the possibility for such things are incredibly small. Infinitesimal, even. Impossible, really. So I dim that light of hope a little more with each passing day and every year it fades away a little bit. Disappointment is the norm for someone that dreams big and expects the best out of this world.

It's enough to turn a man bitter and misanthropic.

But I'm not bitter or misanthropic. Well, not that much. Not yet. I just don't let myself get excited for the new Flaming Lips album, or the next season of Lost, or Palahniuk's new book -- cuz if I do, it's going to be horrible.

Part of that reasoning is the whole "Victim of High Expectations" thing where if you expect the impossible from a person or a group of people -- to replicate and exceed levels of greatness that most people never achieve once in their lifetime let alone multiple times -- they're bound to fail you. The other part is a slight touch of Magical Thinking. Magical Thinking, as I learned from Augusten Burroughs's book of the same name, is a schizotypal personality disorder attributing to one's own actions something that had nothing to do with him or her and thus assuming that one has a greater influence over events than is actually the case. For example, If I get excited about a particular movie THEN that movie will suck. So instead I have to live in this apathetic muted happiness limbo waiting to allow myself to actually enjoy something.

Is this the norm? Not the Magical Thinking part; that's just me being a total psycho. But the rest of it -- is it the norm that we all either accept the mediocre or anticipate disappointment? Do others feel this way? I can say I know a few who share in my blase-by-proxy worldview. And it's usually a reluctant subscription to this ethos. My fellow jaded friends all wanted something great and grand and exciting and impossible; but instead we found cubicles, and deadlines, and heartbreak, and mediocrity.

But I don't think this is relegated to just my band of UnMerry Men. Look at the rest of the world: We accept our crappy and partisan government; we accept wars done not in our name; we accept crappy output of so called artists; we accept lies and cheats and scandals; we accept that the only people who are getting outraged tend to be the wrong people, and the world bows to them yet we do nothing to retaliate; we accept taxes, and pollution, and talentless celebrities; we accept genocide, and tax fraud, and diseases; we accept our world being taken away from us; we accept Companies rising in power and merely shrug. The Constant Shrug. "What you gonna do about it?"

We accept so much, and we allow ourselves to be disappointed time and again. Why can't we demand better? What can't we be unreasonable? Since when do reason and hope share the same bed let alone the same sentiment? Why can't we go out and find adventures and laughs and friends and romance and a nemesis or two? Why must we always resign ourselves to the rules of a game we inherited?

I don't know. Maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm the only one who must lower expectations to enjoy something. And maybe it's just that I set the bar too high, unrealistically in fact, and I should knock it down a few pegs. Maybe Episode III will be great and I can think that going into the theater.

Nevertheless, every morning I wake up and walk out the front door, still hoping to suddenly find myself enlisted in some insane and epic campaign that promises danger, love, intrigue, and the impossible.

Then again "Adventure, excitement..A Jedi craves not these things."

At the end of the day, I'm still just a nerd who wants a lightsaber.

Unfortunately, the Band of the Same Name Remains in Limbo

Good news!

It's been reported here that Arrested Development is coming back for a third season. My comrade in arms Agent Ichi first tipped me off -- but I was hesitant. But it has been confirmed and it better not turn out to be wishful thinking, or else I will cry "Havoc!" and let loose the dorks of war. Imagine wave after wave of nerds all grumbling and moaning from their asthma, shin splints, and poor vision laying siege to Fox Headquarters. Not a pretty sight. Funny, but not pretty.

Oh Frabjuous, Frabjuous Day! Calloo Callay!

(PS the title from the last post comes from Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory when Augustus goes up into the pipes and pressure is building behind him.)

The Suspense is Killing Me....I hope it lasts.

Some lil tidbits:

--What the Fuck? It's been reported here that Dave Chapelle has now entered a psychiatric hospital in South Africa. First of all, WHAAAAAAAA? Secondly, South Africa, Dave? Really? Apparently, Dave has been undergoing a lot of changes recently: first converting to Muslim, then getting $50 Million from Comedy Central, and now he's crazy in South Africa. Luckily, I do have some sources in that part o the world (Afrika Bambaata & Panthro, I'm lookin at y'all -- crack this case!), so mayhaps we'll get some answers.

--No, Seriously: WHAT THE FUCK? Carnivale has been cancelled. The weird lil show that couldn't now definitely can't. What sucks is that it was only one third of the way through with its entire story arc. It will be missed; if only cuz that adorable clubfooted dwarf needs work. He talks backwards, people! And carries a Sword Cane! A SWORD CANE! You know you all want one -- well he's got one, dammit. Oh well. Maybe some Carny nerds can rally behind this and get HBO to make a couple of movies out of the last two thirds. Kinda like what the Firefly dweebs did with Serenity.

--SPEAKING OF WHICH...Check out the trailer for Serenity here. It won't even be released until Sept. 30 (happy bday, Camps), but still, that gives y'all plenty of time to go out and check out the DVD set of the entire series (Firefly) that ran on Fox. It was a funny, sexy, cool action Sci-Fi western show from the plump mind and body of Joss Whedon. And now it looks like it's a funny, sexy, cool, action Sci-Fi western movie from the plump mind and body of Joss Whedon.

--Take That, Childhood! This lil site shows a bunch of alternative and hilarious covers for some Choose Your Adventure books that might've been. It has also sparked my interest in collecting every Choose Your Own Adventure book ever made, and then writing my own for the College Grad (The Mystery of Who Ate My Ham Sandwich!*).

--STOP READING THIS! And go check out Takashi Miike's Audition. I've recommended it before, but seriously people -- go see this movie. It's preferable if you don't read anything about it, don't even know what it's about, or what section of the video store you would find it in. All you need to know is that it's Japanese (w/English Subtitles), not for children, and deals with the battle of the sexes in a very new and interesting light. The DVD is no longer in print for sale (a new edition is coming out in August), but you can rent it from Netflix & Blockbuster. Wow. That's all I can say about this movie. Well, that and "Deeper, Deeper..."

--WHAT'S GOING INTO MY EARS! The Kinks, The Kinks Are the Village Green Preservation Society; The Mars Volta, Francis the Mute; Home Movies soundtrack; Guided by Voices, Bee Thousand; Bloc Party, Silent Alarm; 13 & God, 13 & God; The Arcade Fire live bootlegs; Todd Barry, Medium Energy; Talking Heads, Fear of Music; Talking Heads, Remain in the Light.

--WHAT ARE YOU LOOKIN AT? The season finale of Project: Greenlight tonight, The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, Cheap Seats, PTI, Audition, Dead or Alive, Ichi the Killer, The Bob Newhart Show, and all of the other shiite I always watch (Vaya con Dios, Brad. You will forever be remembered as a Despiser of Wedgies). Also -- am I the only one that thinks Jet Li's new film Unleashed might actually be a good movie? I mean, it won't be; but I'm so tempted.

--WHO DO YOU WANT TO PUNCH THIS WEEK? Refs of the Celtics/Pacers series, George Lucas (Appearing on The OC, Lucas? Are you fuckin with me?), John Bolton's Mustache Groomer



Jane Winslett-Richardson: In twelve years, [the baby] will be eleven and a half.
Steve Zissou: That was my favorite age.
--from The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou


PS A special mention for anyone that can tell me where the title of this entry comes from. No Googling or cheating.

*You Know, the One I CLEARLY Labeled with My Name

My Own Private Sunnydale

Why are we nerds so possessive?

After reading this post on the always excellent Be A Debaser blog, I was struck with that question. Sure, I debated some of Ms. Rayon's finer points, but overall I agree with him -- because I'm a possessive geek like that, too. Now I know his argument was more about how The Postal Service has sold out -- but what is the great crime of selling out if not trying to appeal to a larger audience while making an embarrassing amount of money? Selling Out, the cardinal sin amongst the huddle masses of the misunderstood, is betraying the loyalty and faithfulness that us nerds display for those PopCult figures we adore. It's not necessarily a good thing, but it is a defining trait amongst hipsters, nerds, geeks, and dorks of all varieties: We take pride in what we enjoy and, more importantly, we take pride in knowing about what we enjoy; specifically knowing about it first.

Here's a recent scenario in my own pathetic shell of a life that will serve as an example: I enjoy the Upright Citizens Brigade and their now defunct TV show on Comedy Central (as should you all -- buy it here!). I watched it when it was on the air (starting with the pilot, no less), bought some tapes off eBay when it got cancelled, and even bought the first season DVDs. So I've been a fan for a while. One of my friends recently discovered them and enjoy their great absurdist antics. Now I could have simply said "they are good, aren't they?" But no, I didn't go that route. Instead, I said they were good and then not so subtly implied that she was a late comer to the scene. Was it necessary? No. Was it a petty little jab worthy of a shrew from some Jane Austen novel? You betcha.

So why do we nerds mark our territory in such a way?

What wrinkles this theory is that the aforementioned friend is something of a nerd as well. She also tries to find new, undiscovered, and great movies, music, TV to tell the rest of us about. If she were some naive waif who simply happened upon UCB in between a marathon viewing of Will & Grace, I probably wouldn't have been as hard. After all, she would've been one of the uninitiated who don't strive for excellence or originality but instead just something to fill up 30 minutes of entertainment (ie, like most normal people). So why is it such a contentious thing amongst nerds? Why are we all striving to be the Marco Polo's of Pop Culture?

Maybe it's because we nerds are vicarious by nature; we find something we like and take pride in that thing as if we ourselves made it. Look at the amount of money, time, and costume preparation that goes into Trekkies. They took something they enjoy and made a whole universe out of it, even becoming the basis of a lot of their social worlds; same with Star Wars, Dungeons & Dragons, even the Buffyverse. Fanfiction is all over the place -- people attempting to inhabit the worlds they love so dearly.

Nerds and Hipsters are maybe one chromosome different fro meach other -- it's usually the wardrobe gene that allows the hipster to wear the "Camp Towunka for Young Jews" shirt ironically while the nerd actually went there and still wears the shirt 13 years later. What defines them, and what also lays a lot of the groundwork for their world outlook and interactions with people, is their tastes. It's not who you are that matters, it's who you like. Who you read. Who you listen to. Who you watch. Who you quote. Sure, all of these things are just portals of escapism from a dreary existence of mundane banality, but because they are glimmers of genius and reasons for excitement in world lined with filing cabinets and disappointment, they take on an even greater significance. Also, for most of these people, obsessing over these works is as close as many of them will ever come to producing something original and creative themselves (see: High Fidelity for further edification).

This isn't just relegated to the acne prone lovers of Sci-Fi -- music snobs are probably the worst offenders of this Territorial Nerdery. Instead of being happy that good music is out there, being listened to, enjoyed, and spread like a social disease in a musty dorm, they suddenly become the snooty Cultural Truant Officer. When I said I was listening to (and very much enjoying, I might add) Sufjan Stevens's Greetings From Michigan the Great Lakes State a whole year and a half after its release, one of my friends replied with "You're getting into that now? Wow." Now, I didn't say that I had just discovered this guy, or that my friend should check him out; in fact, I was trying to bond with my acquaintance over this artist. Instead I got a cold Shot Down sandwich on rye with a side of You're An Idiot.

I have tried to cut down on this snobbery. Instead of pointing out how I loved The Arcade Fire before everyone else, I just encourage more people to listen to them. I'm not going to put down someone for discovering the genius of Arrested Development a little late in the game, but instead just quote all the good bits and pray with them that it comes back for a third season. I'm going to falter, occasionally insulting people and getting pissed off when my brilliant cultural foresight doesn't get recognized. But I am going to try harder and realize that no work of art belongs to just one person, and unless I'm the one that actually created it, I really can't take too much credit no matter how many times I post on a message board.


...

Seriously though, do you know how many muthafuckas tried to recommend The Arcade Fire's Funeral to me AFTER I already told everyone about it? Bullshit, man. Pure bullshit.

Oops, I Did It Again. I ate a manatee.

If you take that picture, I will EAT you.


Smart money says she's not buying music to work out to.

I can't BELIEVE I used to jerk off to you!

...too much?



Courtesy of www.gofugyourself.com

My Mix Tape's A Masterpiece

Here's a ragtag assembly of stuff. Enjoy, muthafuckas!

--Congratulations to that lucky 8th grader that wrote the Black Eyed Peas latest song, "Don't Phunk With My Heart"! I mean, that's the only possible rationale for such lyrics as these:

Baby Girl You Make me Feel
You know you make me feel so real
I love you more than sex appeal.

So huzzah and kudos to that lucky 14 year old! You should be very, very proud of yourself! As for the rest of the Black Eyed Peas -- shame; pure unadulterated shame. Where's the lyrical ingenuiety of wanting to become retarded, or finding the location of "the love", or even calling out "hey mama"? Also, every time I look at Fergie's pointy pigtails, I'm fairly certain that they're going to come alive like writhing snakes and bite Will.I.Am. in the face. Which would actually be a pretty great video. (Mental Note: Look into turning hair into asps)

-- Check out my friend's blog at Be A Debaser. If you thought I was a music snob, ho ho -- Brotha, you ain't seen nothin' yet! If anything, Ms. Rayon forces the issue and is a polarizing figure -- a cyberspatial gadfly, if you will. Plus it's funny as all get out -- gotta love that nerd conversation. So ch-ch-check it out!

-- I know I'm Monkey-Come-Lately over here, but I've been listening to Green Day's American Idiot more and more and really digging it. I listened to it when it first came out and thought it was good, but never really got into it. Now, I find myself just really listening a lot to "Jesus of Suburbia" and "Homecoming". Although that first single, the title track, has got to go. Holy shiite is that song annoying. However, I find it so weird that MTV, the radio, et al, bleep out the word "faggot" when it's used in the songs "American Idiot" and "Holiday". I know it's an across-the-board standard that they can't allow the word, but it is being used in a sardonic and very intelligent way. Doesn't that count for anything? No? For shame -- I would've thought that the station that brought me such ethical treatises as "Room Raiders" and "Singled Out" would have more of an intellectual backbone. More to the point, Green Day have crafted an excellent work that I find mirrors a lot of what my friends are currently going through. Also, outside of NIN's The Fragile (my favorite album ever), these songs are the best representation I can find of a sense of idealism being smothered by apathy; an epidemic which I've found is so prevalent in my own lil world.

-- So Family Guy came back, and American Dad! began its journey to cancellation (I hope). Personally, I thought that neither show was that great, but Family Guy at least gave me multiple occassions to laugh. American Dad!, on the other hand, was absolutely horrible. Sure, I laughed when Roger the Alien said "Can I keep this mousepad?...I'm keeping this mousepad." But the Trump jokes? The Guantanamo Prison jokes? Bum Fight jokes? Eat my dick. The problem with doing a politcally minded (which is what MacFarlane keeps saying American Dad! is, although I don't really see much politics involved) cartoon show is that any political jokes become dated by the time the episode is actually finished (unless Flash/Similar Computer Programs are used - a la South Park). Same with pop culture jokes. That's why Family Guy has always done well when it references something from 5-25 years ago, because the joke is already outdated that it becomes absurd, plus it preys on our nostalgia. All I know is that come May 19, Arrested Development better come back or...I guess, I'll just die a little inside and shed a few tears. It's not the best threat, but do you really want to disappoint this little boy, Fox? Do you?

-- Project: Greenlight continues to show how Krista Allen is something of a flighty bitch/drunk flighty bitch. Nothing like seeing a B-Level actress act like a B-Level person. Who would've thunk it -- a former soft core porn actress copping such a 'tude? Oh well, I just hope that John Gulager has a career afterwards and that the film does well. I mean, Battle of Shaker Heights and Stolen Summer are horrible horrible movies. *Shudders* Let's hope that Feast does not suffer this fate. Plus, Clu Gulager is in it! Muthafuckah was in Return of the Living Dead. Respek knuckles!

--On a related note: How do I keep getting suckered into watching Reality TV? Didn't I use to be smart? This lack of will power is akin to when I was addicted to masturbation; although this time I probably won't come out of it with carpal tunnel and controlling shares in some Lube Companies. (Just kidding?) I watch RW/RR Challenge, that's the only Reality Show that I make sure to watch every week. But I check out Project: Greenlight, Project: Runway (when it was on), The Apprentice, Making the Band 3, The Surreal Life. What has become of me? "Behold the wretch, whose sordid heart, /Steep'd in Content's oblivious balm,/Secure in Luxury's bewitching calm,/Repels pale Mis'ry's touch, and mocks Affliction's smart" -- Mary Darby Robinson.

--Wanna laugh? No? Really? Oh, okay. I just thought -- all right, all right, I'll forget it. Well for all of you that do enjoy the occasional giggle (or even a titter or two) check out Michael Ian Black's "Short Imagined Monlogue" of Billy Joel in McSweeney's here.

--I'm gonna keep stoking the nerd fires for a while for Star Wars Episode III -- someone needs to get the word out for this small independent film! Let's support real artists, people! Seriously though, this video once again promises a good film. Is this just another skankalicious cocktease like every other trailer for the new trilogy? Probably. Le sigh.

--Has anyone watched "Con" on Comedy Central? Not only is the show not funny, but at the end it has a disclaimer which states that everyone that was somehow conned out of money in the show ends up getting paid. How lame is that? If they really wanted to con people, they could just have them sign waivers (saying that they allow the fake TV/Film project to use their likeness on TV, etc) and then hide a clause in there preventing "Con" from being sued. Then again, I'm no big city lawyer (stretches out bright red suspenders).

--Want to read a great account of why nerds are the way that we are? Or just want to read some great personal essays by one of the best living authors? Jonathan Lethem's "The Beards" is just one of the great works from his newest book The Disappointment Artist. It's hilarious and does provide real insight into the nerd mentality. Dig it, Brotha!

--Listening to: The Decemberists, "Picaresque"; Manitoba, "Up in Flames", Antony & The Johnsons, "Fistful of Love" from the album "I Am A Bird Now"; Rilo Kiley, "Take Offs & Landings" (you were right again, E); NIN, "With Teeth";Louis XIV, "The Best Little Secrets Are Kept"; Pinback, "Summer in Abaddon"; Clem Snide, "End of Love"; Viktor Vaughn, "Vaudeville Villain".

--Reading: The Onion (por supuesto), William Brandt's The Book of the Story of the Film of My Life, Transmetropolitan graphic novels by Warren Ellis, et al.

--Watching: Lost (new episode tonight! glayven!), Wonder Showzen (watch it people -- it'll make you invincible), Inferno 2, Samurai Champloo, Miike films, Piranha, old episodes of the great and much missed Soap and Home Movies.

Kick a midget!

"Guaranteed Fear and Loathing. Abandon all hope. Prepare for Weirdness. Get familiar with Cannibalism." -- Hunter S. Thompson

ps. Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise? fuckin gross. and lame. just stop it, both of you. Katie, I expected better of you. No, I'm not mad at you. I'm just disappointed.

Vaya Con Dios, Reducto!

It's been reported here that Stephen Colbert will leave The Daily Show to create his own "spin-off" show -- which is supposedly going to be a spoof of the Pundit Talking Head Show (Bill O'Reilly, Hardball, Hannity & Colmes, etc). I'm sure the show will be hilarious, but I will sorely miss "This Week In God". I hope Colbert will keep that bit in his lil show.

One of my favorite Colbert Moments:

While investigating allegations from a Christian Conservative group that certain orange juice ads promoted homosexuality, Colbert interviewed a member of GLAAD who happened to be a lesbian. In his concluding remarks, Colbert asked:

"If you're so good at being a lesbian -- then why are you turning me on?"


No word yet on how Colbert's shrink gun will factor into his new show.

Lincoln Blogs

Who knew that Honest Abe was such a creep?

Possible Captions for this photo:

A) "Stare into Lincoln's eyes! Let Lincoln swallow your soul!"

B) "Hey there, pretty lady. How you doin? Can't help but notice that a pretty lil thing like you is all alone. And I said to myself, 'Self', I said, 'you need to go over there and buy that girl a drink.' So how bout it?"

C) "Hello and welcome to Hell. Yes, I'm as surprised that I ended up here as you. If you follow me right into the foyer behind me, we'll get you all squared away."

D) "Fix my bow tie and I'll make sure to mention you in my Gettysburg Address. " winkwink

E) "Lincolnbot has arrived! Let all who fear me tremble in my presence!"

F) "Yes, I just farted. What are you going to do about it, Whitey?"

G) "Forgive my compromised sense of humour but I want to answer our host's question about who Jude Law is - he's one of our finest actors."

H) Dress up day at The Pirates of Caribbean ride in Disneyworld. "Yaargh! I be the Great Emancipator! Yaargh!"

I) "The theatre again, Mary? Fine. I said, 'FINE'!"

J) "I have a presidential boner with your name all over it."

K) "Okay, okay. Whoever stole my stove pipe hat -- just return it. No questions asked. That hat is integral to my look; without it I'm just some perv in a chinstrap."

L) "The penny! Go fuck yourself. No, it's too late -- don't try and tempt me with the five. That ship has sailed, my friend. Good day, sir. I BELIEVE I SAID 'GOOD DAY'!"





Submit your own. And be funny dammit, or I will hunt you down like the snivelling rats you are!

Why Can't God Just Strike Me Blind?

It's an inevitability. Any resistance on my part is futile and humiliating -- like a polio stricken dwarf trying to swim out of a strong undertow, I cannot escape the strong pull of MTV. As is fairly evident by most of my opinions and tastes, I'm not so much into the MTV. I would join in the cavalcade of trite hacks that scream about how they don't even show music videos anymore, except that the alternative from their network programming would be 24 hours of Britney Spears, 50 Cent, 3 Doors Down, and Beyonce -- the Four Horseman of a Doomed Generation. I do believe MTV is an evil presence in our consciousness; it pulsates like a festering cancerous tumor, leaking out tainted blood of superficiality and stupidity all with a professionally whitened smile.

And yet, I cannot look away.

I admit that I watch two shows on MTV fairly regularly (the aforementioned Real World/Road Rules Challenge and the incredible Wonder Showzen on MTV2). I will defend my tastes in those two shows to the death, although I will always feel perpetual shame for enjoying them. But beyond those two shows I tend to avoid MTV as if it was the Chatty Coked Up Ugly Girl at a party -- she's dying to talk to me, breathless and unblinking, but unfortunately tells me nothing and only wastes my time and slowly kills my soul, and wears materials that are far too shiny and sleek for the type of disheveled mess of a peson that she truly is inside.

But it still happens. I'm quickly scanning through channels: a hyperactive consciousness acrobat, jumping from image to image, quickly approving or disdaining whatever millisecond of a program I stumble upon. And then I land on MTV. I hate whatever's on the screen. I hate the music that is playing behind the vacant and near retarded words that are spewing from my speakers like audio gonorrhea. But what's truly horrible is that I stick on that image. I stay on the channel and stare, fixated like I'm helplessly watching a building collapse around its inhabitants. I want to look away, I really do. I want to stop the pain, stop the screaming in my head and the torment in my soul, but I can't. I'm transfixed by whatever intellectual and cultural atrocity is transpiring onscreen.

Being part of the hipster nerd contingent (or at least fancying myself a part of that despicable and depressingly lame tribe), I will partake in the occasional Ironic Viewing. What this means is that I'll watch something that's bad just so I can laugh at it, mock it, and proudly say that I survived the horror to which I subjected myself. It's the basis of Cheap Seats, Mystery Science Theater 3000, and Patton Oswalt's sense of humor. But this isn't Ironic Viewing.

My thousand yard MTV stare is like Kyle MacLachlan's gaze in that scene in Blue Velvet when he's in the closet, watching Dennis Hopper act all Dennis Hoppery while Isabella Rossellini writhes in pain. It's a gaze full of dread, disgust, hatred, shame, and ultimately, morbid fascination -- is this the other side of things, that putrid underbelly that I never see outside of my own twisted mind?

I settle down and watch (or withstand) 3/4 of an episode of The Ashlee Simpson Show, the entire time a running mantra of

ihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethisihateihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethis

thisihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethisi

ihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethisihate

ihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethisohatethisihatethisihatethisi

hatethisihatethisihatethisihatethisohfortheloveofchristdoihatethishorribleshit

runs through my mind, almost drowning out the moronic proverbs that prepackaged mongoloid deigns worthy of sharing to the world. Almost drowning them out, but not quite.

One of the shows that I've recently stumbled upon, uncovering it like a scandalous affair between a mentally challenged carny and his curious goat, is Making the Band 3. In it, P. Diddy is forming a girl pop group, assembling it out of a rag tag collection of girls who all want to realize their dreams of eating disorders, drug addictions, and experiencing an unforgiving media backlash. Making the Band 3, while deplorable, is not without its own set of lessons, and it is in this spirit of optimism and stone cold consternation that I present

12 LESSONS FROM MAKING THE BAND 3

1. P. Diddy, like everyone else in this world, just wants to be Debbie Allen in Fame, screaming at dancing girls and smacking a stick against the floor. "You've got big dreams? You want fame? Well, fame costs. And right here is where you start paying. With sweat."

2. Twentysomething girls give out hugs like teenage boys get erections: randomly and often.

3. It's too much, Miss Thang! Too Much! Too much! Too Much! (several hours pass...) And another thing: It's just Too Much! Too much! Too much!

4. People from Denver can't dance. Yes, even the black sassy girls from Denver. Hell, ESPECIALLY the black sassy girls from Denver.

5. No matter how many times a format has failed (Making the Band show) or how often one genre of music (girl pop) yields little to no gain for someone, that particular person should stick with it no matter what. Especially as long as MTV is footing the bill. And don't even worry about what it's doing to the cultural landscape, cuz we're all fucked anyways.

6. Evidently, God (specifically Jesus) has a plan for everyone. For some, it's becoming Nationally Recognized Skanks. For others, it's being rejected on Cable from the position of Nationally Recognized Skank. Jehovah works in mysterious ways.

7. Even a sassy, fat, pockmarked, power mad, stereotypical gay queen makes fun of Erykah Badu and her head wraps. I'm Sorry, Miss Jackson.

8. Apparrently, when dancing, all women from the ages of 19-23 dress like a cross between Jennifer Lopez, Cyndi Lauper, and a diseased whore from the French Revolution. And it is considered "hot".

9. Irony does not exist within the hallowed halls of Bad Boy Records.

10. No one shall ever refer to the previous and horrible failure that was the product of Making the Band 2. In fact, it is highly probable that everyone that was involved in Da Band has since been killed, as have their families, and then their deaths were covered up in some hideous and disturbing manner. RIP Chopper AKA Young City, Fred, Dylan aka "Hot Fiyah", Sara Stokes, Ness, and Babs -- may you find the peace in death that eluded you so in life. Hoepfully you can take some solace in the fact that P. Diddy hasn't exploited your demises or created a horrible song in tribute of your passing.

11. This new band is gonna make Dream look like Total. Am I right? Huh? Yeah! (God bless anyone that got that joke -- cuz you're going to need all the help you can get.)

12. I'm an idiot who has wasted too much time in my life. All of those little half hours devoted to this gyrating trainwreck will never be recovered. Because of Making the Band 3, I will now probably die about 4 hours earlier than originally intended.

So there ya go. Hope y'all have been as educated by this little lesson plan as I was by watching the horrible monstrosity.