Filed under: PHOTOS, art, catholic, christian, church, election, entertainment, fiction, god, holiday, jesus, media, photography, picture, pictures, pop culture, religion, travel
The New World Trade Center Construction
Blue Skies Ground Zero
Pretty Building in a Ritzy Neighborhood
Time Square Naught 8
The Ghost of St. Patrick’s
The Lunch Lady of St Patrick’s
Heavy Metal Silk Screen Circa Middle Ages
At the Met
Inspiration for “American Gothic?”
Grand Central, bitches.
The Chrysler Building Down from Grand Central. Bitches.
The Chrysler Building
Top of the Empire State Building. Around Midnight.
NYC Midnight
Filed under: TV, carny life, culture, entertainment, fiction, film, media, movies, news, politically correct, politics, pop culture, sci fi, science fiction, television, video, war, writing
Occasionally I like to read Townhall.com. I don’t consider myself to be very liberal but more a liberal libertarian (Yes I stay confused). It’s kind of fun to read. Like the Wall Street Journal and National Review, it can be intellectually challenging in a way not usually found amongst the majority crap on the right. William F Buckley R.I.P.
Then there’s Ann Coulter. The Bizarro Maureen Dowd. Horseface of the Apocalypse. Mrs Fred Phelps. Snarky, smart and an evil dead harridan that is usually completely off base. I am compelled to read her column the same way the Nazis had to look into the Ark of the Covenant in “Raiders of the Lost Ark”. I don’t always disagree with her points, but they are so deformed by her custom made bile that you have to turn away.
In Indiana Jones and Whatever the Latest Peril Is, you can usually look forward to a seeing a Nazi getting his or her ass kicked. That’s the Nazi’s only redeeming quality; you can kill as many as you’d like (within fiction) and no one will blink an eye. Indy could pitch Nazis off of a cliff for an entire 2 hours and everyone would leave happy. Although at his age it seems unlikely (Indiana Jones and the Perilous
Hip Replacement Surgery in 2012!).
In that fine tradition I wanted to call Miss Coulter a Nazi, but that’d be too easy. Along with being a liberal, an elitist, (but no longer a commie, an insult I’ll miss), the ______-nazi has gotten a little cliche. As the all purpose insult suffix it’s lost some of it’s luster. You can be of the grammar, feminist or soup variety. Then I found this. Blondi may not have had a lot to do with the rise of the Third Reich, but her modern day counterpart seems determined to keep their spirit alive.
The only rational explanation for Miss Coulter’s existence is, like Hitler’s brain, some ancient evil saved Blondi’s brain and placed it under the assumed name and body of Ann Coulter. German shepherds are smart dogs but not as smart as a person. She salivates at the first sign of evil then sends it to her editor. She’s been trained to sieg heil as opposed to shake. The similarities are uncanny. Thus a new insult is born.
Filed under: legal, magazines, mental health, money | Tags: mental health, news
The old definition…
an outcome of events contrary to what was, or might have been, expected.
And the new, confusing version…
This is irony on steroids with a triple dismount. I feel like I’ve just got done programming the VCR and doing calculus. At the same time. It hurt my head. No one could make this up.
Filed under: art, carny life, culture, education, entertainment, fiction, media, music, rant, television, video, writing
Can you believe I used to work with this guy? At a local telemarketing office. This was at the time I was lucky enough to get off the sales floor and into a cushy office job. Pushing papers yeah, but it beat trying to explain something I couldn’t understand to some haus frau. Least that’s what James said.
James is what he wanted to be called then, not Jim. He’d get pretty upset if you didn’t. Gave a different last name back then. I guess this was before he got the job at the Onion. He mighta been harsh about stuff, but like he always said life was harsh. In that, his drunken ways and wisdom gained by years of hard livin’, he showed me the secrets to the universe. He was a genius ’cause he said he was. He’d get mad if you said otherwise.
He talked about battles with his mom, the time he won money on the scratch off, the bands he liked, his music and poetry and how hard it was to be his kind of smart. Guess that’s why he was drunk a lot. To suppress his smarts so others wouldn’t feel bad about themselves. He never actually said that, but it sounds like something he’d do. Never actually stop him from sharing what he thought he knew, anyway. Going without a shirt can really better a man.
I’m sure his poems and stuff got him that Onion job. I don’t read the news myself. Gives me a headache and stuff, so you know I wasn’t reading no poetic rants. I had to hear him talk at work all the time. I thought cause maybe he gave me headaches he had to be a genius. Poetic or not he was always ranting, I mean ranting that we didn’t understand art or soul or something. I think he though of himself as a deep, soulful black man from the 1930s. The kind that traveled the back roads with a guitar, lived hard, played juke joints and made deals with the devil. Maybe he was mad and drunk all the time because he was stuck in the body of a dirty, drunk white guy with a homeless tan. Still, it made me smarter to be around him.
Glad he’s doing good. Must be if he’s got a Game Cube. Seems like he’s gotta work a few extra jobs to make ends meet but who doesn’t? Still hanging around with the band. They’re a true rock and roll band. All the trappings of a rock band with none of the success. I never knew living with your mom into your mid 40s was part of the rock ‘n roll lifestyle. She’s never really ever serious when she complains about the noise or tries to kick them out. They manage to make it look good. I’m just glad I had a chance to meet him. Now he’s a big time writer. Just hope he still remembers his old work buddies. I want a Game Cube, too and he still owes me money.
Signed,
Not a fan
