Apr. 15th, 2009 03:24 am
readingthedark: (Default)

On Syfy (they decided not to do that, right?), I just watched the lead in some Shark Movie: Part 3 forget her line, look over at the director, remember her line, say it, then look back at the director and smile because she was glad she remembered her line. That's not how you do that. I'm too sleepy to finish, but I hope she dies at the end even though she seems like the lead.

A month or two ago, I saw a Tom Petty wannabe in a tiny basement bar. I was there to see an earlier act. I have no use for people who are older than Tom Petty who are trying to act like they were Tom Petty before he was Tom Petty. In the middle of the only halfway decent song, he explained he was having a "Youtube moment," so he stopped playing, went over to the side of the stage where he could look cooler and played the song again a little faster while his friend filmed it to post online. I walked out and I think everyone followed me. That's not how you do that either.

"That shark's not just rare. It's supposed to be extinct."


readingthedark: (Default)
I have no interest in you. I am from Cooperstown, NY and any residual curiousity over something that is called "America's Pastime" was worn away by the grind of dealing with the tourists who felt like they'd purchased a ticket at the town limits and were entitled to treat everyone in the town as if they were Mousekeeters.

It is cool that I grew up somewhere where everyone walked up and down the street with baseball bats though. I don't know anywhere else where its acceptable to carry a baseball bat late at night and it's considered completely normal.

I don't read the sports pages. I don't watch the sports shows. I mock your existence, baseball.

But here's the thing.

This week, a major slugger who swore up and down forever that he had never even remotely considered the idea of steroids has been busted.

Hey, I don't care. Anyone who dates Madonna, even for a weekend, should embrace performance enhancement. I understand that a few extra powerful swings can be worth millions in the sports entertainment realm. Go for it.

And a player is rumored to have known he was HIV positive and infected his wife anyway.

That's sickening. Grotesque beyond the pale. Ick ick ick. But that's not really baseball's fault. Denial is weird and people get told horrible news and go into denial and risk the lives of the ones they claim to love all the time? Hmm...I guess not. It's bad news all around.

And then we have accounts of coke-fueled sex parties during games. Yes, right during the game. It was twenty years ago or whatever -- but here's my concern:

Baseball, I hate you and you're being so offensive and stupid that articles are running in other sections of the paper and I'm getting even less of the obscure and weird pop culture and creative artsy coverage that I thrive on. I'm like a fragile little baby fern and you're usurping my sun.

So stop it, baseball, stop it.

readingthedark: (Default)
[insert disclaimers about how no one in particular is here right now]

I've been busy doing one to two million things a day lately because my entire existence is being guided by friendly nudges of the emotional and personal life equivalents of plate tectonics and any stability is grounded in the premise that surfing the waves of turmoil with manic glee is delightful, but I'm intrepid and secretly quite courageous and all but one thing is sticking in my craw

so I wanted to give a heads up that talking to me about things like the electoral college or voting or how some people are so wacky that they think a guy named Satan (who was in a Clive Barker play, no less) made fake dinosaur bones to trick everyone and therefore the entire fossil record is somehow a challenge to some dude people claim lives in the sky or how sodomy is actually an issue of whether someone is a good neighbor or not and the whole concept isn't just hatemongering or how killing baby seals is awesome because it gives everybody jobs or that we all have to do our part because noses to the queer shoulders to the grindstone wheel aren't what actually keeps the ceaseless dark mills spinning because our noses and shoulders are super special

or  the importance of anything regarding Amerikkkan politics at all, even affairs or scandals which I tend to be quite down with most of the time because they validate my shallow preconceptions that anyone who can get the job is so horrid and corrupted by the sick system of our sick society that they shouldn't dare get the job that they have so sickly seeked...

um, I just wanted to give you a heads up to maybe hold off on trying to sell me on anything involving the whole politics gig for right now because you are my people and I adore every last one of you and I am batty two-thirds of the time even when life is as smooth as a virgin lightbulb and we all need a little help sometimes, so please, please for the love of all that is unholy, don't talk to me about politics, even the fringiest of fringy fringy, for the next couple weeks unless you want nothing but such nasty and back-handed derision that you will be pointing at yourself and weeping forever by the time it is over.

Yes, tragilarity will prevail. Yes, I love everyone that I love even if their intentions misguide them, even the capitalists and the fascists. It is all good in the grand scheme of things and I'll most likely vote for Nader like I always do.
But, someday, when you're less shrieking and I'm less hypersensitive, let's make a pact to shower each other with kisses and embrace in a burning field of poppies as ash rains down from above...even if it's the last thing that we'll ever do...




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May 2009

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