Update: I removed the trailer because it was pretty annoying how it started up automatically when y’all’d visit this site. Instead, go here and watch all the videos/trailers.
Brainwashed children ready for a holy war, Ted Haggard, and a pint-sized preacher with a killer rat tail. It would be hilarious if it weren’t true.
It was terribly nice to hear that my good friend and two-time boss, Keith Dusenberry was finally made the lead editor of Real Detroit Weekly after two years doing a fuckin’ great job as their music/features editor. Don’t know any of the details or if this went down weeks ago without me knowing, but it was well deserved promotion. Keith is almost single-handedly responsible for me being a professional (paid) writer and is just about the most level-headed and nicest person you’re going to find working in the drastically bizarre worlds of music reporting and alternative weeklies. Please take this as a personal sign from on high, as I am, that if you stick it out and wade through enormous amounts of shit, good things still happen to good people in this world.
Speaking of signs: Does this mean that hip-hop officially has nothing left to say about anything? If anybody gets killed over this, well I hope inner city schools will have the good sense to ban open-toed shoes like they did in my day - God, DMX you are a fucking dumb.
Scott’s birthday present? (BTW I really need to find my wife a present for her B-day. Any ideas?)
And finally - the War on Terror is being fought with the same vigor as the NHL Playoffs. What I wanna know is it a protest or is it a sympathy beard?? Only Islamatic fanatics and the Amish show long-term facial hair. Sounds to me like the lazy-ass just found a way to get out of shaving forever.
Stephen Malkmus is doing some music for the weird Todd Haynes Dylan movie. You know the one where lots of actors, dudes and ladies, old and young, will all play Bob at different periods. Dig Cate Blanchett’s jewfro. Oh yeah David Cross is in there too, but it’s not really clear if he will be a Dylan or not.
Sorry I’ve been no fun lately, I’ll try to pull it together and start getting back around to posting more.
-Really Ben? Really? You really need money this bad? (via freedarko)
Funny (if a bit long) sketch. (via the apiary)
-See how global warming will effect Nana’s beach house.
It’s been awhile, but DC’s still into indie rock (also via the apiary. couldn’t resist.)
Speaking of DC, this one is for J-Ho’s eyes only. He seems like he’s trying to start an inter-blog feud with me. Or is he? Who can tell? Why won’t he return my calls?
Friends, sorry I didn’t get to this week’s hottie until today (Tuesday). However, I’ve slightly altered the date on this post to represent that it was posted on Sunday, so posterity will not know the difference. Unless posterity sees the actual post and reads about how I’ve slightly altered the date. Before I move on, let me remind you that all mistakes appearing in quotes are sic. Twenty-something MySpacers have the spelling and grammar of pre-teen MySpacers, and, once again, I don’t feel like peppering my posts with “sic” just because they’re stupid.
I thought that since I’m a little bit late I’d search long and hard for the hottest hottie who ever hottied up the MySpace universe. So here it is. Meet Danielle. It lives in Oceanside, New York, and it is 28. The proverbial they say that a picture is worth a thousand words. Were it able to speak or write, the picture at right would be saying these words: shim, she-male, huh, are, you, serious, no, really, what, the, fuck, is, that, thing, beast. I don’t know what to call it. I typically don’t make fun of ugly people for being ugly, but look at that thing! Has no one told it that it looks like that? If I knew Danielle, I would pull it aside and level with it: “Dude, what are you?”
I can’t even think straight with that mug staring back at me. Is that even a real person? It has black eyes for Chrissakes! People like Danielle make me think that God is real and He has a wicked sense of humor. Either that or He can be a true prick sometimes. I don’t think there’s any jury in the world that would convict you for… Well, you get the point.
But enough about that. Let’s move on to the profile. If you have to, cover up the picture with your hand so that you can focus. First thing it says: “Energetic, fun loving, crazy kinda girl!” Okay, I guess that solves the mystery. I’m of the opinion that one can decide his or her own gender, and, if Danielle thinks she’s a girl, I’ll call her a girl.
“I love to go out and have fun…” — What have I told you about saying things that don’t mean anything?
“I have a great sense of humor and can put up with pretty much anything thrown my way.” — I’m very happy to hear that. I hope that means you won’t mind me saying you look like a dude.
“I am also a big believer in fate and destiny because what could be sexier if you think about it.” — I can think of at least one thing… the opposite of you!
“Music, movies, bars so that I can cocktail it up…” — Haven’t I also lectured you on taking words that are intended to be used as one part of speech and making them into another? If I haven’t, I should have.
Oooh! Look at this picture I just found! Apparently this is a picture of Danielle and her sister. Danielle’s buddy Jenn writes about this picture, “No one would ever guess that the two of you are sisters lol.” Jenn is correct, but not for the reason she thinks. Now Danielle’s sister isn’t exactly a looker on her own, but standing next to Danielle, she looks like Helen of Fucking Troy - a real goddess of a woman.
The part of Danielle’s page I enjoy the most is the outcome of her “What Famous Pinup Are You?” survey. Apparently, she is Bettie Page: “Girl next door with a wild streak / You’re a famous beauty - with unique look / And the people like you are cultish about it.” Girl next door? I grew up with single dudes living with their mothers on either side of my house, and they looked more feminine than you. Famous beauty? Hah! Unique look? Definitely! Cultish? Maybe. I guess you’d have to be.
“The Author to Her Book”
Anne Bradstreet
Thou ill-form’d offspring of my feeble brain,
Who after birth did’st by my side remain,
Till snatcht from thence by friends, less wise than true
Who thee abroad, expos’d to publick view;
Made thee in rags, halting to th’ press to trudge,
Where errors were not lessened (all may judge)
At thy return my blushing was not small,
My rambling brat (in print) should mother call,
I cast thee by as one unfit for light,
Thy visage was so irksome in my sight;
Yet being mine own, at length affection would
Thy blemishes amend, if so I could:
I wash’d thy face, but more defects I saw,
And rubbing off a spot, still made a flaw.
I stretcht thy joints to make thee even feet,
Yet still thou run’st more hobbling than is meet;
In better dress to trim thee was my mind,
But nought save home-spun cloth, i’ th’ house I find.
In this array, ‘mongst vulgars mayst thou roam
In critics hands, beware thou dost not come;
And take thy way where yet thou art not known,
If for thy father askt, say, thou hadst none:
And for thy mother, she alas is poor,
Which caus’d her thus to send thee out of door.
1678
According to the gubmint, it’s still the weekend, so this week’s episode isn’t late at all; it’s right on time! I probably would have gotten to it Saturday or Sunday, but the truth is, I worked 18 hours and slept only five over the past two days. Whatever. I don’t owe you people anything…
…anything but nonstop MySpace Hotties of the Week!
Before I trudge into the darkness this week, I’d like to remind you of a few things. The purpose of this series is not to mock hopeless MySpacers simply for our amusement. No, I only have the noblest of intentions in writing MySpace Hottie of the Week. My aim is twofold. For the hottie, I hope to gently point out his or her foibles in the hope that I can encourage self-betterment. I’m like Dr. Phil in that respect. For the reader, I seek not to entertain, but to inform - to show you the ways that evil can manifest itself in this day and age and how to combat it appropriately.
This week’s lesson is in stereotypes. I’m not talking about racial or gender stereotypes. I’m talking about the good kind of stereotypes. While it is certainly unacceptable to prejudge people based on uncontrollable factors such as skin color or genitalia, it is perfectly okay to prejudge based on controllable factors. In fact, stereotyping people based on certain physical characteristics is a wonderful time-saver. For example, if you see a young girl in a short skirt and revealing top, you can intuit that she is a sexual libertine. An elderly man with a light-colored plaid shirt tucked into pleated khaki pants voted for George W. Bush and drives a Buick LeSabre. It’s that easy.
Unfortunately, there are a few unsavory people out there who seek to subvert this system. They insist on not matching their appearances to their personalities, and it makes life all the more difficult for the rest of us. Take this week’s hottie for example. He calls himself Hot Dancin’ Muskrat, but I’m going to call him Azazel Bradford III. You see, on first look, you’d think AB is a liberal 18-year-old pseudo-Satanist living in his parents’ basement in suburban Denver. But in fact, AB is a 35-year-old Republican from Houston. “Huh?” you may be asking. “I thought 35-year-old Republicans from Houston were bland white people who go to church every Sunday and work as claims adjustors.” And you would be right! But AB is a true freak and a lesson in dichotomy.
AB’s profile is rather sparse, but what he offers is revealing. His “About me” section offers little of interest, except for the word Republican. Does he not understand that today’s GOP hates people who look like him? If the secret service spotted him at a Bush rally with his triad of black spikes hanging in front of his eyes, he’d be in the back of a paddy wagon (believe me, they still use those things) with his head shaved and his skin sprayed with artificial tanner faster’n he knew it. The modern secret service doesn’t mess around.
But for a few of what I’ll assume are guilty pleasures, AB’s musical interests generally fall in line with the quasi-depressive goth kid stereotype, and they do little in explaining his conservatism. He likes Joy Division, Dead Can Dance, and the Smiths, Franz Schubert and Pink Floyd. The same goes for his interest in movies. It’s his TV watching habits that begin to raise one’s eyebrows: American Idol, Fear Factor, and Star Trek. Say huh? I’d think you’re either a frat dude or a mega-nerd with those interests. Definitely not a goth. Work with us here, dude.
But it only gets weirder when he lists his favorite modern authors: Richard Nixon, John McCain, and… and… and… and… and… ANN COULTER. Dude, if Ann Coulter ever saw you and felt the impulse to write about you or talk about you on some shitty talk show, she’d say something like, “These pasty-faced, black-haired gothofascists are no better than the Ali-Baba Muslim terrorists who seek to overthrow our Christian way of life. They’re waging a spiritual war on right-thinking individuals in this country, and that’s how we should treat them - as enemy combatants.” Seriously, AB… Ann Coulter? I just… I don’t… I can’t… What more can I say about that? You should be reading Horace Walpole, Henry James, and crappy vampire novels. You know, shit like that. Ann Coulter represents everything that you should hate.
Sweet Jesus this guy has me worked up. But like I said, I’m here to inform, so I’d better stop and regain my cool. Before I leave, let me offer a simple moral for this story: You can - and should - judge a book by its cover. If it turns out that your judgment is way off, it’s the fucking book’s fault.
