I realize by the responses of "where the hell have you been" and "I thought you were dead" I've be getting lately that I've been a bit more reclusive than usual. Be assured it is unintentional. But below is just a recap of the last couple months and what hell has been going on… again… for those that give a damn.
First off, many thanks to everyone that has either bought a hard copy at a show, online, or downloaded a copy of my new album and/or dropped a nice review of it on one of the many sites. Here's a big obnoxious banner linking to a page with info on it:
All of you kick ass in an extra kick ass kind of way for the support – if anyone tells you otherwise you have my permission to stab him/her in the taint with the eating utensil of your choice. (Remember, closer to the plate is for the entrée, so make those count.)
An additional thanks to the hundreds that have "bought me as a pet" over the last couple months… I, sadly, do not trust applications on this already cluttered thing so I will never know "how much you think I'm worth." I'm going to guess around 1.2 million Pepsi Points or roughly 25,000 wooden nickels. But I do appreciate it.
I've been moving pretty steady on the road since February and am currently enjoying some time off to go through the shows I recorded and get some new video clips up here and audio downloads on my site. Not to mention the pics I've been neglecting. (sadly non are from the Gay Pride weekend in Pensacola beach I stumbled into last Monday while attempting to see my buddy Tuck's band "The Dirty Mother Tuckers" perform… though a very nice lesbian lady did punch me in the arm and say "nice board shorts" while pointing out what I assume to be another lesbian she found attractive… I did not. But I appreciated the inclusion and tried my best not to act like she hurt my arm.)
Before the P'Cola debocle (working backwards) there was the well over capacity crowd in Ft. Walton Beach – over double if what I was told was correct. Not real sure if anyone heard what I was attempting to scream over the chaos in the back of the room, but it was fun. Also ran into my other buddy Tucker that night… and a different band… and some guy who felt it necessary to walk into the green room with no pants on. Maybe I should've given them directions to Pensacola…
Before FWB was the lovely Panama City Beach, where I did two shows on boat. The first one had a seven year old on board who was nice enough to allow himself to be interview by the local paper regarding the show, and even nicer not to mention my constant offering to buy him a beer,
Preceding PCB was Gulf Shores/Orange beach and a rained out concert that led to drinking and a hazy recollection of slurring a Waffle House order before realizing speaking was no longer an option. I may have ordered a turtle sandwich… not really sure.
Then there's Columbus, Cordele, Little Rock, Wichita, Nassau, Charlotte, DC, and some others mixed with varying degrees of ridiculousness. Like the man who interrupted my show in Charlotte to walk on stage and inform me he was a U.S. Marshall. I have no fucking clue why, nor do I expect the explanation to warrant his need of presenting this fact. Wish I had taped that one though… just so I have clear picture of him to place at the ticket counter next I'm there.
Let's see what else…. Well the Bahamas gave me a stalker from some central or south American country (I have a lovely voice mail I'll be animating shortly) a 77 year old man received a lap dance from a young lady in the audience in southern Georgia. A man introduced himself to me as a "proud racist" in Little Rock, and I think (think) I was propositioned by a trucker somewhere between Wichita, Kansas and Springfield, MO.
So it's been a pretty stable, uneventful few months. I'll have a more entertaining blog up soon explaining my love of karaoke and why the police wont let me pantomime while others sing. Again, this one was just for those that give a damn.
Ahhhh… St Patrick’s Day… definitely one of my top holidays.
There’s just nothing quite as fulfilling as watching a historically religious figure actually be the namesake of one the largest parties in the world. In fact, the only truly religious point left in the whole day is the many misunderstood facts about it. But then again, a couple hundred years of binge drinking can make any memory more than a little blurry.
So here’s a little refresher you can half commit to memory and then butcher later in a drunken argument. St. Patrick’s Day (March 17th) has been for thousands of years (in Ireland) a religious feast and the supposed anniversary of Senor Patty’s death in the 5th century. Traditional Christian Lenten prohibitions were actually cast aside for the day and the Irish would get all crazy and toss back all the meat they wanted… usually the traditional bacon and cabbage… which makes me wonder why some sort of air freshening product was never introduced into the celebration.
But as Irish as the holiday is, the first parade actually took place in America in 1762 by Irishmen serving in the English military, and more to do with a celebration of their "Irishness" than it did any religious observance. In fact up until the time of the Great Potato Famine in 1845 most Irish immigrants were Protestants. The famine brought nearly a million Catholic Irish fleeing starvation. And they weren’t exactly welcomed either… they were Mexican way before Mexican was Mexican, except they actually could NOT find work.
It was a crazy time in this county... and because of the anti-Catholic Irish sentiment in this county, when March 17th rolled around newspapers and periodicals of the time portrayed them in cartoons as violent drunk monkeys… much like how newspapers portrayed the Japanese during WWII. Strange really... how every time in a period of our history cultural differences arise between the white Protestant based majority and anyone slightly different religiously, socio-politically, or ethnically the method for belittling and slandering them is always to invoke the monkey comparison… even though evolution is historically viewed as incorrect by the same being using it for its racial bias… which begs the question "When do we get the Terror Monkey cartoons?"
Well I think I’ve successfully gotten off topic. Let’s get back to the matter hand. Namely "why do we get hammered on March 17th’
Quite frankly it appears to be the one stereotype of the Irish that (despite its originally negative connotation) we’ve managed to embrace. We constantly get the whole "he banished all the snakes out of Ireland" thing wrong… some people I’ve talked to even get it confused with the Pied Piper… like St Patty was tooting on a flute and snakes (who despite what the dude in Bangladesh may make you think) were entranced by his version of "hit the road jack" and did so. An obvious butchery of two stories and a complete lack of comprehension of one of the basic ingredients to all folklore and story telling: the metaphor. Which is what the "banishing of snakes" is in the first place. There were never any serpents in Ireland. St Patrick’s banishing of all the snakes in Ireland was a metaphor for the eradication of Paganism. (St Patrick was originally a Pagan himself who converted to Christianity and went to Ireland to spread Catholicism… and was rather successfully if you hadn’t noticed.) So we have a lot of misunderstanding around the Holiday. Leprechauns aren’t real by the way, the clover is a symbol of spring (Pagan) and was later used as a symbol of pride in the face of British invasion and control, and it wasn’t until 1995 that the Irish government abandoned the tradition laws and allowed Pubs to be open on the religious holiday so they could go all Parade and festival with it to increase tourism.
For a nation of people that invented that were almost wiped out by a tuber crop going to shit, perfected the car bomb (in not invent it all together), and have been trying to tell the British to fuck off since before James Madison learned to write… you really have to give them one thing: they can throw one hell of a party, even if it wasn’t their intention.
So this St. Patrick’s Day grab a shot of Jameson, turn up a pirated copy of Metallica’s version of "Whiskey in Jaro," and demand gold from anyone you meet under 4 feet tall.
Oklahoma you’re old, but you’re no Georgia!
Current mood: bored
Category: News and Politics
Oklahoma you're old but you're no Georgia!
Happy 100th Birthday Oklahoma, the 46th state… land of corn and meth, place where I've been sitting the last week trying to figure out why you are so excited that it's your birthday. I mean you're a hundred… you should be exhausted… go grab a nap.
Ah but the magic of the event is of course the rallying of soccer moms and other persons with 8+ free hours a day making floats and incorrectly assuming the costumes from the local high school theater's production of Mid Summer Night's Dream are authentic to the period. I don't recall there being pixies in the Midwest circa 1907, but then again none of the organizers of the festivities seemed to recall there being Native Americans here before then…. So I guess we are even. Enjoy your Vanilla icing and small pox ice cream cake!
I'm often confused by celebrations like this. No one involved was there when they "founded" Oklahoma… so why is it so many people 40 years old and older give a shit? I'll tell you why, Good Clean Living. That's right. Anytime someone reforms their way of life (usually early 30s) in the face of a slowing metabolism and newfound responsibility they welcome in an unhealthy amount of clear headed free time. Downtime is to be used for the recovery of the night/week before… not for making floats to celebrate the clouded history of something most public school textbooks covered in the caption to picture 4a.
But what the hell do I know I'm still trying to figure out which came first, Babe the Blue Ox or the abolition of slavery.
The point is we don't really care. No one in Oklahoma has been gearing up for the 100th B'day bash… it is just fodder for the local NBC affiliates morning show. Something harmless to talk about, wear a funny wig, hold a candle, and talk about how cider is made for 3 hours between breaks for the weather and traffic. Oh and throw in something funny about how long the commute would be if you still had to do by wagon… that'd be great.
What's been cracking me up (and this is by NO-WAY significant to just this state) is that no one I've talked to realized last year was the 99th birthday, or even knew what year the state was founded, or what number it was, or that absolutely no one else in the world was even aware this celebration was going on. And next week, amidst cans of cranberry sauce, it will all be forgotten. And next year when the state turns 101 no one will make a float… that is unless Wild Turkey decides to cash in on a marketing opportunity.
But it's all good I suppose. At least for a couple days everyone forgot about war, poverty, the fact their job sucks, and that they've been repressing homosexual tendencies since scout camp because they don't want to go to hell…
Which brings me to state number two in the "really? this is fucking happening" moments of the week. Georgia's governor and members of what ever elected body taking up space in the capital building got together and prayed for rain…. That's right; in 2007 people are still praying for rain. Has no one read a farmer's almanac?
What is great about this precipitation prayer is they waited to do it on a day with a 50% or greater chance of rain, then it drizzled, and they marched around victorious… "See I guess prayer does work…" then it stopped drizzling and no one said anything. You know it's hard to apply the scientific method to superstitions…
But more importantly why is it always rain that people are willing to come together and pray for… whether it's a dance session with bells on your ankles or just a bunch of politicians trying to cover their wolfy exterior with sheep's hide. Why rain? Why not something really impressive… like a sandwich.
Seems trivial maybe, but if you really want to secure the masses into the legitimacy of your "faith" don't huddle up in the fourth quarter and toss a hail Mary towards an outcome that can be explained quite simply by a 5th grader who paid attention. Instead, how about you all gather in a circle around a paper plate and pray for god to make pastrami on rye appear. That would be impressive.
And hey, who knows – if you can get one pastrami on rye you might even be able to butter up your lord and savior into bring back that never ending basket of fish (kind a like Olive Garden's pasta thing on Thursdays or whenever)!
But maybe I'm missing the point all together, free food might be just a little too "Christian" … even for those willing to pray for rain.
Oklahoma, maybe it's a good thing you waited till 1907… you could've ended up like Georgia: hungry, dry, and on your knees.
What Google Ads think of me
Current mood: bouncy
Category: Blogging
On my actual site I have a blog as well... that blog also has corresponding Google Text Ads which make me billions of dollars.... but the latest trend is making me question wtf google bots are thinking of me. (everything below is a reprint of what i posted on my site as well... just so you know).
Apparently the content bots over at Google, who crawl sites to determine what relevant ads should be displayed based on the content of page, have deemed the content of my blog page... well... N.A.M.B.L.A. worthy. Which is rather unsettling.
Now I realized I've done some writing mocking the L.A. Archdiocese, SIN show promo stuff, and even one where I called for the unbelievably late term abortion of that idiot representing South Carlolina during the Miss Teen debocle.. . but really... child molester registry?
And why the fuck are they advertising in the first place? Well who cares really, I went to the site and had a BLAST!
I highly recommend the work they are doing. I'm sure there is even a better use for it then my "20 bucks says more kid touchers live near you than me" game I played with everyone I've called in the last hour and a half. (side note: I'm down about 300 bucks at the moment... fucking Alabama... people like 'em young here I guess... sigh...)
The Abuse, Coping, Support, site thing was less humorous. In fact I only laughed three times... they really need some lighter conversation over there. And something I can gamble about.
Drinking and gambling games fix most things I found. In fact, without the combo game of Truth or Dare most people would never even have a three some in 1950s retro scuba gear.
October is by far my favorite month. It's a seasonal turning point, the beginning of the last fiscal quarter, and it smells of vegetable pies and candy covered razor blades. Not to mention it gets kicked off with a triple threat birthday week for my mother, father, and myself. I can only imagine how elated they must have been when they learned I would be raping their celebratory glory for my own back in 79. Oh, how times haven't changed.
October is also held near and dear to me because it ends, just as drunken and rowdy as it begins, with Halloween (of course in its ending the costumes and knocking on strangers doors is a little easier explained… but hey, what are birthdays for if not to strap into my Super Grover costume and harass a few garden home community residents?).
Halloween is as amazing in concept as it far from its original purpose. It's the only day that men all over the country get in touch with a nascent desire to stuff a brassiere, get glammed out, and never explain to anyone how the fuck they learned to walk in 8 inch heels. A nation in makeup reviling in self-indulgence under the pretense of tricks and treats; it's a fucking White Snake video of a day. There really is nothing more pure, more primal, and more honest.
I've had the fortune to participate in Halloween goings-ons in several cities over the years and each offers its unique flare to the occasion, however all the core, most important elements are always present. This year I will be attending the celebrations in Knoxville, TN a city that, may I dare say, has a drinking problem. I'm excited and fearful all at the same time at the thought of it. But since I'll be in a town that brings nothing short of chaos every time I'm there for the most chaotic and utterly pagan of days, (and I use "pagan" here more for the hedonistic mindset than any religious affiliation), some discussions were had amongst the people that needed to have them and bang: The Sin Show comes Knoxville.
That's right kids, the Sunday following my week, November 4th to be exact, we will be tossing a little End of Daylight Savings time party by way of a Sin Show.
If you're not familiar with these shows it's quite simple. Comedy for the Never Offended. But don't misread that to mean it's a def jam "pussy fuck fuck pussy" type of show. It's a strange range of comedic styles and subject matter that range from the brilliantly awkward to so honest it almost hurts.
If you don't know what that means feel free to watch some of the these video clips:
The line up right now includes (and this isn't all): Kerry White
We've received a couple request from online magazines and podcaster wanted to attend/review the show. If produce a podcast or write for a site/magazine/or artist and event related publication and would like to attend the show you may contact Matt Davis via the contact form on his site or his myspace page.
For those that don't know, the "Dome Home"/ "Regret Compound"/ "Turd Biscuit" / "Wooden Spaceship" / etc. etc. etc. is no more. Well non of us live there any longer… I assume it's still there, but considering the beating it managed to take during the year and a couple months we lived there I'd say we merely eked out just in time to avoid the locusts. Between the spear gun assaults, creatures giving birth beneath the deck, random fireworks wake up calls, and few other "incidents" documented on film, it's a good thing we lived in the middle of fucking nowhere around neighbors who (most of which anyway) had been deceased for quite some time. Those still breathing around us were doing so only until the inevitable parole violation, which is a comforting thought when you decide to pop-off a few rounds from an AR-15 at 1am.
But it was a long coming farewell as we had all moved towards other directions. Paul, as many already know, is residing now somewhere in S. Charlotte with his fiancé and unborn child, which will probably have a cleft palate driving Paul to abandon it at an early age, thus unleashing the vicious cycle that is better explained through a comprehensive study of Meme Theory… that or by talking to him for an hour.
Kerry I believe at last account is still with Tracy and they have taken up residence in an undisclosed location. Which is best, considering Kerry's recent run in with the local authorities else where in North Carolina. Apparently you don't have to actually read and comprehend the law to be a police officer, which is wonderful. Damned first amendment.. how dare you Kerry?! How dare you insult those peoples lord and savior forcing them to a physical confrontation which each other and the police having to be called only for you to get blamed for it…. How dare you. Sticks and stones and shit.
On a lighter note I finally got my pilot's license. Something I've been trying to accomplish for some time. I plan to sell it on Ebay and use the money to teach abstinence and other forms of self-control to young republicans. Meaning I hope to fulfill my dream of installing web cams in public restrooms and then broadcast the video feeds over the web. Fuck Big Brother… some things need a Dirty Uncle's touch.
I am also still waiting on an apology from the people of South Carolina for banning abortion… after that little Teen USA filibuster I think they owe all of us an apology, and I am glad to collect them on your behalf.
I will leave it up to you to decide what part(s) of the above is true or untrue. But the compound is no more… so to all those that stopped by and crashed for a night on their way elsewhere, be aware that I don't know who lives there now. I'm not saying you can't stay there, I'm just saying you may have to result to forced entry.
The state of Washington is really shaping up to be a place of interest to me. An odd circus freak show voyeuristic focus of interest, but interest nonetheless.
Let me G.I. Joe you up to speed:
A couple years back (2005) there was a criminal case involving a man dieing after he and a friend video taped him being fucked in the ass by a horse in Enumclaw, WA… you read that correctly.. he had a HORSE may sweet, violent, hoof clamoring love to his man vag. The technique was simple, one guy holds the horse's no-no button so that it wont move forward while the other guy enjoys the feeling of giving birth backwards through his poop-shoot. I can't post the video of it on myspace, but if you're not one of the eight billion people I, or one of my friends, showed it to, take my word… the horse was a formidable challenge and it did not end well. (Except for the horse who, judging strictly by his end result, seemed to enjoy himself).
For the catcher in this scenario a trip to the hospital wasn't quick enough and I believed his cause of death was internal bleeding due to several crushed organs. Here's the Seattle Times covering the story: (Enumclaw Horse Story on Seattle Times)
The story was all over the web. Xrated Shirts even made a shirt:
Now that you have half the battle here's the most recent courtesy of the Seattle Times: (Seattle Times - Man has sex with goat) A former employee of Eatonville's Pioneer Farm Museum in Pierce County has been accused of having sex with a goat and charged with animal cruelty.
According to charging papers, a tour guide saw Arthur Lawton, 63,having sexual intercourse with the animal in a barn on May 8 during an evening event at the museum.
That's right, the tour of a lifetime. Note that he was charged with animal cruelty. However in the Enumclaw case no such charges were brought. Why? The age-old interpretation of rape my friends. The pitcher is always the guilty party.
His employers later fired him, according to the court document_
Which is easily the worst business move they've ever made considering I was two-clicks away from Travelocity until I read that sentence. I mean I personally have no desire to bang any kind of farm animal… but damn it if Arthur Lawton is giving tours that day I'm up to witness any mistakes he'd like to make.
Lawton is the second person charged in the county since the Legislature made bestiality a crime in response to the fatal injury to a man having sex with a horse in Enumclaw.
You read that correctly. This is the second guy to GET CAUGHT since they made animal banging illegal. Which apparently it wasn't until the video of the guy dying from being punch loved by a palomino hit the Internet. Way to save face Washington state. You guys banned slavery yet? May want to get on that before any videos surface on You Tube.
Here's the closing line of the news blurb... and by far my favorite:
A man accused of having sex with the family pit bull was acquitted in May
HAHA holy dog-shit. You're damn right you acquit that guy. If he's willing to wrestle a pit bull down and force himself inside it, the last thing you need is that guy mad at you. Something tells me mace won't be much of a deterrent.
But I bring you all this to ask something. At what point does this become your thing? I mean are the women in Washington State that fucking horrendous? Or are the people there just that fucking board? If it's the latter I think I have an old Playstation I could send them if anyone wants to help by tossing in some games.
How much for the children? We wish to buy them.
Current mood: cheerful
Category: Religion and Philosophy
So the Catholic church (well the Archdiocese of Los Angeles) is dropping 660 million to victims of sexual abuse. If for some reason this is actually news to you, here's an article you can read to bring you up to speed: http://www.factnet.org/?p=140
According to both the source listed above (which is actually quoting an Associated Press piece I believe) as well as any number of other news articles you can easily Google, there are several little facts to this payout that for whatever reason everyone else regurgitating them seems to find no need for further light. Maybe I'm missing something here, please feel free to help me out with any of the points on which I'm lost.
660 Million Dollars! Yeah that's a pretty big number. And if I had been finger fucked up the ass by a Corinthians quoting pedophile, it's definitely the kind of number I would want to hear. But according to both the above linked article and other sources the Archdiocese of Los Angeles counts 4.3 million catholics. 660 million / 4.3 million equals about 154 bucks each. Divide that 154 by 52 Sundays and you get 2.96. You divide that 2 dollars and 96 cents by the 7 days a Sunday's tithing represents and you get about 42 cents. Now considering many of these cases go back to the 1950s, you then divide that 42 cents by 50 (the number a years from then till now) and you get .00845 less than a penny.
Fuck a cup of coffee for some sick kids in Africa, you can sponsor a pedophile for less than a penny a fucking day! (and yes I'm aware that the "fucking" in "a fucking day" has its own special meaning here).
Now to be fair my math doesn't take into account the fact that the Archdiocese of Los Angeles hasn't always had 4.3 million member, and not all 4.3 million go to church every Sunday and of the percentage that does go they may not all tithe the standard 10% of your income booking fee into heaven that is expected.
So let's be fair then, as I quote where that 660 million dollars is coming from:
"The archdiocese, the nation's largest, will pay $250 million, insurance carriers will pay a combined $227 million and several religious orders will chip in $60 million. The remaining $123 million will come from litigation with religious orders that chose not to participate in the deal, with the archdiocese guaranteeing resolution of those 80 to 100 cases within five years, Hennigan said. The archdiocese is released from liability in those claims, said Tod Tamberg, church spokesman."
Ok so the Archdiocese is paying out a direct 250 million. Playing the small numbers game let's say that the mean of its membership over 50 years is One Million. So we are at 250 bucks a piece. And the same equation as before: 205 / 52 = 4.81 AND 4.81 / 7 = .687 (ok ok I'll round it to .69 u tasteless bastards) .69 / 50 = .0138 just over a penny a day. Leave a penny, take a penny… either way they spend more on candles.
Moving forward though we're going to ignore 60 million that's being "chipped in" by several other religious orders, as well the 123 million "… from litigation with religious orders that chose not to participate in the deal…" Regardless what exactly that's supposed to mean, the math game above I'm sure would reveal similar results if applied there… regarding the latter: how exactly do you 'choose not to participate in deal?" Couldn't the other churches get a Church in a position of authority to manipulate and/or trick them into participating? Or are the religious orders being mentioned too old for all that?
Enough of that.. let's look at my favorite number and the phrase that made first pay attention to any of this: "… insurance carriers will pay a combined $227 million." Wait…. They have Kid Toucher Insurance?
Kid Toucher Insurance? You can get Kid Toucher Insurance? Now I'm not stupid, I know you can pretty much getting anything insured if you are willing to spend the money on the premiums, but the second an organization calls you up and asks to get insurance to cover them JUST IN CASE a person(s) representing them starts fucking kids…. Shouldn't you at the very least question what the fuck you've become as a person that people think you're the guy to call when a division manager starts putting his ring finger up 9 year olds? The D.A. said there might be a criminal case… well here's a clue gumshoe… they bought Kid Toucher Insurance.
Anything that makes N.A.M.B.L.A. rethink the way they invest their monthly dues should sound some alarm bells.
But every bit of news coverage I've read, seen, or heard passes over this line like it is a run of the mill tort case… little Billy slipped on the stairs, so the insurance company will be paying out X amount of dollars… more like Billy slipped his shirt off so Father Creepy-fuck could blow a load on his chest.
I'm so fucking amazed that is insurable. Hey, can I get "I like to jack-off outside nursing home windows Insurance?" What about: "I thought her running and screaming meant she wanted it Insurance?" Or how about: "I forgot to pull out, she wanted to keep it, so I took her fishing on Christmas Eve Insurance?" at least I got Jesus involved in that one.
Red Tape When you have Kid Toucher Insurance do they send out claims adjusters? OH BUT WAIT! I think they do… because the payout of the 660 million to the individuals will be done so according to severity of abuse…. How great is that! You get diddle when your 9 and now 40 years + later you have sit on the phone and describe the damage. How much is a handy against your will worth these days? At amount do they just consider the frame bent and total you out? I've talked to more than claims adjuster in my day… and I can assure you… it would be less scarring to just take a quick 5 million and get molested again.
And who the fuck is this Insurance company(s) by the way? They obviously like high-risk policies… and they seem to have no problem paying out… So we can pretty much rule out State Farm, All State, Geico, and the rest of those guys ignoring the entire city of New Orleans right now. … This company should really hit up the residents of NOLA, southern Mississippi and Alabama, Sri Lanka, and give some a policy break to some people that got fucked, instead of
I'd like to see this mystery insurance company(s) do a little pro-bono work and offer a Violent Rape of a Clergyman Insurance policy to federal prisoners… just so when/if any of these pedophiles end up serving time there will be a means to cover the medical care they will be needed on a nightly basis… stomach bumping gets expensive.
Eye for an Eye as some book put it.
Another 6 million please In closing I would like to add a "shame on you" look of disappointment in the direction of the person(s) responsible for coming up with total amount to be paid for not having the balls or foresight to allocate another 6 million.
The Last 40 Days and 40 Nights
Current mood: chipper
Category: Travel and Places
The last 40 days and 40 nights
While a flood the likes of which the world has never seen will not be mentioned below, at some point animals and a boat do. Two for three I guess.
Starting off in Birmingham the second week of April, I was at my home club doing a cycle of shows and drinking with various people of questionable morals. "Questionable morals" of course being a term I use in jest. In fact, the majority of the so-called 'deviants' I end up hanging out with, in any city, are actually much better people than those that deem them as such. And yet I laugh to myself as they too use this term as a means of self-description, and wear it quite proudly as a statement of mockery aimed at the social climate within which they are stuck… and I too. I will digress for a moment to clarify that I in no way intend to imply that such a social climate as aforementioned was ever produced in the last 40 days… though the popularity of the story eluded to in the title most definitively has something to do with it.
We sit at a moment in time I find awe inspiring. Not because of the moment itself, but rather because of the blatant obliviousness of it that I see in the faces of others everyday. I would almost dare to say that at no such time since mastodons were etched in stalactite furnished rooms have we collectively been so ignorant. We are having debates over words in the English language. Which I may need to remind you is but one of many languages currently being spoken throughout the world; but I guess the Mandarin equivalent for "cunt" is out of sight / out of mind. (That is of course if there is one that would translate with the same bravado). We have no more concern over the Mandarin equivalent for "cunt" today then we had for knowing that Mandarin was one of the two mainland languages of China in the 1950s… when we just called all of it either Chinese or "that ching chang language the celestials speak." Or was "Orientals" the big term used in the 1950s for anyone from Southeast Asia? Maybe I should ask one of the senior citizens in the house of representatives what they called them back then… that's where they (and roughly half the vocal population of the U.S.) is attempting to take us by the way.. in case you're still sleeping. The 1950s. You may have heard an old man call it the "good ole days" while giving a suspicious eye to a person of different melanin content then himself. (Pretty sure the term they used for those guys back then was either Nigger or Negro…. Depending of course whether they were addressing him directly or stenciling it on a water fountain).
Don't get me wrong; the 50's were a grand ole time if your only introduction to them consists of Leave it Beaver. Never mind the fact that people still punched their wives, sole, murdered, raped, and every other atrocity… they had the decency not to talk about it. And as we all know, the second you talk about something horrible like that an angel is kicked off his comfy cloud chair and cast out of heaven to summon your soul to the devil… who in case you were wondering loves American Idol just as much as you do.
So what have we learned from our ever-so-moral previous generations of the 1950s again? If something 'unspeakable' happens… it should, by nature, be treated as such.
Fast forward to my forgetting this rule on April 18th in Atlanta. The VA tech shootings were fresh on the news, completely drowning out all the Anna Nicole horseshit and Don Imus admitting that he has slaves on his ranch or whatever the fuck it was he said that was filling a slow news day that shouldn't have been. (by slow news day I am of course admitting the fact that the whole war thing isn't important to anyone, much like the rest of world politics you can only read about in English from BBC.com)
So a celestial/oriental/Korean/asian-american/shitbag (pick the term that makes you fuzzy inside) shot a bunch of people… a tragedy indeed. I mean I didn't now any of those people, so I base this solely on the 24 hours coverage and the testimonials therein. One of them could have been a child rapist, but really… what are the odds. Anyway, like I said it was and had been all of over every news channel.. everyone in one way or another had heard of it. I had show. I brought it up. Not making the comments I made above (which I believe you can find in similar vein though much more fleshed out in a bit by Doug Stanhope regarding 9/11… I could be mixing it up with something else – doesn't matter). I instead was poking fun at the ridiculous way those around me (while in B'ham) had been discussing this event with me. It was less about the shooting and more about the fact that I have some friends and acquaintances who cared more about the caliber of gun used than the people who had died. That's a real fact, and point I believe I made quite entertaining if not funny. It was moderately received by about the sixth line of so, once people realized I wasn't going to stop due to there horrified silence. WTF was the initial silence about? They were waiting to see if any angels showed up soul shopping. But at least they were waiting it out.
Unlike the following Tuesday (in the Bahamas), where a small group of people old enough to have been pushed out the igloo and onto the tundra to quietly shuffle off long ago stormed out b/c of the following phrase "… is that a too far… well… I guess we'll forgo the Virginia Tech material…." That of course got a bigger groan than the previous, but that was the point. The fact that they left doesn't bother me… that they emphatically told the manager of the club how unfunny I was because of it I found disheartening. I almost thought, for a moment, that we agreed to disagree, they got scared as to what may be said next and quietly 'shuffled off." As it turned out they wanted that particular topic to be left to Beaver… Anna Nicole being a whore and something about lacrosse players being rapists they were fine with however. (The latter being the only of the two actually slanderous… but a reverend said it so it's ok I think). "Too Soon" I believe is the old comedy saying. Which if you haven't looked into it really means: "We have sympathy, compassion, and self invoked sense of moral duty to consider this topic sacred right now... please wait a couple months until we've forgotten all of that part."
What I find to be sad in all of this is not my split seconds of irritation followed by laughter in regards to occurrences like these… it is what I know about those people just by that action. They did not remove themselves from the situation and move on (or shuffle on as I would prefer) but they instead held that anger and disgust they felt for possibly the duration of their vacation. I just hope no one delivered a newspaper to their hotel room door without calling for a suicide watch first.
[--quick side note, the rest of my two weeks there were quite enjoyable. I co-hosted some pilot for a reality show about beauty queens the first week during the day at Peter Nygard's house (I'll get some pics up –that place is fucking crazy); and the second week I drank with some old and new friends on the island and then took a cigarette boat out to a private island stood next to a guy hand feeding wild sharks. That's the short of it anyway. Back to the sarcasm:]
So in closing to this nearly 1500 words of ranting I would like to offer a little advice to those that wish to bring back the 1950s. First be prepared for the return of the 1960s. If you think Woodstock was "out of control" try clamping down the lid of ignorance and censorship for a decade or two with the pharmaceuticals we have at hand now. Second, if you are really that afraid of words shut off the television, the radio, burn the books and periodicals, disconnect the Internet, and never leave your house. Just sit at home and play scrabble with the kids… right up until one of them figures out what the squiggles on the blocks are all about and manages to line up a C a U an N and a T. Then kill him and never talk about it.
Don Imus - You fucking Uncle Tom.
Current mood: aggravated
Category: Movies, TV, Celebrities
Don Imus you fucking Uncle Tom. Seriously people, the recent trend of pseudo-soul searching following insensitivity in verbal remarks – regardless of who or why they were made – is getting ridiculous.
The offensiveness in calling field hockey players dikes should not be channeling out of the reactionary emotions of the players; it should be channeling – violently – out of anyone who has taken the time to write a more descriptive insult based on this stereotype. Don is a much more creative person than that, this was obviously just an off day – no matter what the preceding adjectives were.
The whole thing of course is being taken very seriously by, the self-proclaimed, "leaders" of the black community and women's rights organizations respectively. But why? I mean think about this…. Fucking why? Who the fuck honestly gives a damn what Don Imus has to say about anything? I mean I've listened to his show, I've found it funny at times, impressive at times, but he isn't exactly attempting to pave a road of morality or a belief system in which he expects/wants/or intends you to follow. However people like Jerry Falwell do that daily. Calling the aftermath of hurricane Katrina God's punishment of a city that promotes homosexuality and other sins. Are you fucking kidding me? No protest on that one? No organized email lists hammering the website of Liberty University in request of his resignation? Why not? Again think about this….. fucking why not?
Oh yeah! Everyone was busy pretending to give a shit about the people of New Orleans so they could get some TV face time in and promote the non-profit organization they use to embezzle money. Don't you remember it, the clamoring and unified claims that the people of NOLA weren't getting the response they needed because they were poor…. And how we need to get together and stop this poverty and failed condition of living in light of this. If any of those "leaders" actually gave a shit that would have been fighting for this end of poverty long ago; cause last time I checked (i.e. went to New Orleans) the people in the those parts of the city in question were fucking poor then too – and probably could have used a demonstration or two to get a school system worth a fuck.
But here is where I make nice cut and return to the original topic: The reason no one gave a fuck about the poor in New Orleans before Katrina was because before Katrina there was no way to make that demonstration of unity have any impact (i.e. TV). Similarly, no one would have given a fuck if Jimmy the local radio guy had made those remarks, because CNN wouldn't have covered it. And, in reality the story is less about what Don Imus said – and more about the fact that it is Don Imus, a 30-year veteran of talk radio. Again, if I had snapped on stage in the manner that Michael Richards did it would have gotten no more plays on You Tube than any other video of me doing something stupid. But everybody "knows" Kramer. So we naturally need to guffaw and picket until he takes the time out to "search his soul" and find the roots to these 'racist' remarks. You know what, if Don Imus pissed you off – don't watch his show. If enough people quit watching his show the message will be sent. But to try and label him a racist or a sexist over those remarks is ridiculous. To call Michael Richards anything other than an inexperienced performer unable to properly handle a heckler is wrong. And to say that Jerry Falwell doesn't have the right to make his insane comments is also incorrect. He has that right, I don't like the douche bag, so I don't listen to him – and quite frankly second guess the intellect and upbringing of those who do. I would love to see the real bigoted commentary of persons like Falwell and Robertson go the way of separate water fountains and only be talked about as a horrid blemish on our intellectual awareness as a whole, but that may be a little too progressive for some. The only advice I would give – unsolicited of course and doubtfully useful – to persons in Don Imus' position is this: don't apologize. Fuck 'em. Stand by what you said. That's what these so called 'leaders' do. Falwell makes his commentary about homosexuals – never apologizes – people get mad and he says (in his own way) "fuck 'em."
I feel you have the right to say whatever-the-fuck you want. And it is an important right. Every time one of these modern day mob scenes occurs over words because they are 'insensitive' or some one got their 'feelings hurt' I try to subside the guttural urge to pick up a rifle and find a clock tower. Instead I just laugh at the fact that in 6 months the whole thing will be forgotten by the general public as they've become consumed by someone else saying something else that they previous didn't care about until the email list was fired off requesting them to quasi-validate their pseudo-existence by filling the gap between The View and lunch with some copy/paste work on a contact form.
But if any of you need something to protest, some activity to consume those hours that would be better served with reasonable thinking and continued education, please feel free to look at my tour dates… make some picket signs… get it on CNN. Either way I'll continue to exercise my free speech in any way I see fit in hopes that some soccer mom somewhere will have a Tupperware party get canceled and need something to fill up her Saturday other than being punched by a drunken husband….I promise I won't let you down.
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