Anyone who's had the pleasure of hanging out with me recently has probably noticed the pronounced bags under my eyes. I've been stressed. Worn out. Mentally exhausted. It hasn't been due to my recent two hour commute back and forth to work. I've been waking up in a sweat every night, unable to go back to sleep. I've been absolutely tortured by the fact that those underground nerds on the Swiss-French border are going to blow up the world while they smash particles into each other all night like a god damn astrophysical mosh pit. The nerds will tell you they're trying to find the Higgs boson, but I have other theories.
She Blinded Me With Science...and Sub-Atomic Particles
For those of you who don't know much about the Higgs boson, it is more commonly known by its alias: The God Particle. Essentially, the science nerds have pretty much proven every detail of how the universe was made, but they can't prove why things have mass. This is kind of a big deal. And since scientists' favorite pastime is making fun of religion, they're pretty intent on actually finding proof that their theories on particle physics are correct. So much so, that they dug a 17 mile tunnel underneath the Franco-Swiss border specifically to smash particles into each other. That's commitment! Murphy, Cap'n and I were going to dig a 1/4 mile tunnel from my basement to Old Head Bar, and we never even broke ground...and we're pretty committed to drinking. By smashing particles into each other at insane speeds, the nerds are trying to recreate a reaction that occurred when the universe was first created (I think). More on this to come.
So, I've read a number of explanations of what the Higgs boson is, and there was one analogy that explained it best. However, the analogy involved Margaret Thatcher, so I'll dumb it down a bit. Imagine a party at Townhouse 156 at Fairfield circa 2003. While there are a lot of people drinking and dancing everyone is generally evenly spaced out among the first floor. Now let's say by some act of god that Fairfield had a decent basketball team, and ESPN was in town for the weekend to broadcast a game. Due to the media coverage, sideline reporter Erin Andrews is in town and she steps into the party at 156. As she crosses the room, all the dudes become strongly attracted to her and cluster around her. The dudes are the Higgs field giving Erin Andrews (a sexy electron) mass. After Erin Andrews passes through, clusters of people congregate together to spread the rumor that Erin Andrews was at 156 responding to a booty call from Ryan Cleary. The clusters that form to spread the Cleary rumor is the Higgs boson.
Honey I Blew Up the Universe
So, earlier I alluded to the fact that this reaction hasn't happened since the universe was made, but the nerds are hell-bent on recreating it. Remember what happened the last time the universe was created? I believe it's called the big effing bang! There may be a slight chance that the nerds forget to carry the three and a giant explosion will tear through space and kill everything in it. At least the French will die first. This has been the cause of my lack of sleep. While you lie in bed dreaming about pet dinosaurs I'm readying myself for the end of existence. Don't these nerds care that they could end it all? How the hell do they make those damn particles move so fast? How do you even move a particle? If they can recreate the world, why don't we have flying cars yet? What the hell is a Hadron? Why did I have the bowl Bart? Why did I have the bowl? The questions are endless. You can see why I'm not sleeping.
Coming to a Universe Near You: A New Universe
The more I think about these nerds, the more I think that they're up to something. I mean, why would they risk our existence simply to find out why things have mass when they could easily use their powers to build flying cars? It recently dawned on me. They want to create a new universe. Think about it. These are the smartest people on the planet yet their nerd status make them social parasites. The Kardashians are billionaires for Christ's sake and these geniuses can't even get a date. They're living underground!!! There is no doubt in my mind that they're recreating the universe with a slight tweak that makes smart people attractive. The dumb, good looking people are in big trouble...but they probably don't understand, so I'll offer this public service announcement. Please answer the following question:
Michael Bay movies are:
A. Awesome
B. Awful
If you answered A, go out and have sex with as many people as possible as soon as you can! If you answered B, the new universe is going to be pretty sweet my friends.
Friday, December 23, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
Jump in Bed and Cover Up Your Head (480)
Over the past several years it has become increasingly clear to me that the majority of fictional Christmas stories are metaphors for the absence of god and totalitarian oppression. When we teach our children about the "magic" of Christmas, we are, in fact, forcing oppressive control tactics upon them. The three most famous examples are Santa Claus, Frosty, and Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. Each of these myths are more reprehensible than the last. If you find it hard to believe, I understand. You've been manipulated as well. It's time to step back and look closely and what "they" want you to believe. Observe.
"Here Comes Santa Claus" by Samuel Beckett
Every year from Thanksgiving until Christmas morning children wait. They write lists; they sit on laps; they go to parades; and they sing songs about him. Here comes Santa Claus. Every day that passes is one day closer to his arrival. Then on Christmas Eve they jump in bed and cover up their head. Why do they cover their heads, you ask? So that they may be blinded from the terrifying truth. Their is no Santa Claus. He never comes. All of the children's waiting is in vain. One day you find out from a friend that the Super Nintendo you got last year was actually from your parents. At this point you can't help but feel like Vladimir and Estragon. You've spent months of your life waiting for someone who never arrives. So why do parents embrace this torture and subject their innocent children to it? Control. If you're good you get the Ninja Turtle blimp. If you're bad you get a stocking full of combustible fuel. Your parents have invented a fictional character that watches you from above, judging all of your actions, and at the end of the year you will either be rewarded or punished. Does this sound familiar? When I turn 30 are my parents going to sit me down and say, "Remember all that stuff about Catholicism we taught you? Well, we wanted you to do your homework." The most ridiculous line in "Here Comes Santa Claus" is as follows: "Let's give thanks to the Lord above that Santa Claus is coming tonight." We were taught to thank god for Santa. Oh boy. It gets worse...
"Frosty the Snowman" by Joseph McCarthy
Let's face it. Frosty was dangerous. No parent was comfortable with their child following his frozen ass all over town. This was written in 1950 and the belief in a radical hero that led children marching through the streets disobeying authority figures such as traffic cops was hard to stomach for those in power. Is it any coincidence that Frosty was leading the children with a broomstick in his hand? This was a witch hunt from the start. The lesson learned from this song is that new ideas seem fun at first, but there are harsh consequences. Frosty melted away due to the heat, much like the innocent women that burned at the stake in Salem, MA. Don't be fooled by the magic children. Stay the course, shy away from new ideas, and you'll certainly be spared an extremes in temperature related death. If you thought that was bad...
"Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" by Friedrich Nietzsche
Rudolph was clearly physically flawed. This made him unappealing to both female and male reindeer. The reindeer charged with the responsibility of guiding Santa's sleigh had to be in top physical and mental condition. This team of team of eight reindeer could easily be considered the master race of reindeer. The female reindeer wanted nothing to do with Rudolph due to their avid belief in eugenics. The female reindeer's only goal was to produce the ubermensche (or in this case uberdeir). Their lack of faith in god led them to place emphasis on the physical world. Creating a more advanced new generation of reindeer was the only action that gave life meaning. So it is no surprise that once Rudolph's mutation proves to be advantageous, the reindeer profess that he will go down in history. Ever hear of the Third Reich? This was the fourth.
Still not convinced? Listen to the Chipmunks Christmas song.
"Here Comes Santa Claus" by Samuel Beckett
Every year from Thanksgiving until Christmas morning children wait. They write lists; they sit on laps; they go to parades; and they sing songs about him. Here comes Santa Claus. Every day that passes is one day closer to his arrival. Then on Christmas Eve they jump in bed and cover up their head. Why do they cover their heads, you ask? So that they may be blinded from the terrifying truth. Their is no Santa Claus. He never comes. All of the children's waiting is in vain. One day you find out from a friend that the Super Nintendo you got last year was actually from your parents. At this point you can't help but feel like Vladimir and Estragon. You've spent months of your life waiting for someone who never arrives. So why do parents embrace this torture and subject their innocent children to it? Control. If you're good you get the Ninja Turtle blimp. If you're bad you get a stocking full of combustible fuel. Your parents have invented a fictional character that watches you from above, judging all of your actions, and at the end of the year you will either be rewarded or punished. Does this sound familiar? When I turn 30 are my parents going to sit me down and say, "Remember all that stuff about Catholicism we taught you? Well, we wanted you to do your homework." The most ridiculous line in "Here Comes Santa Claus" is as follows: "Let's give thanks to the Lord above that Santa Claus is coming tonight." We were taught to thank god for Santa. Oh boy. It gets worse...
"Frosty the Snowman" by Joseph McCarthy
Let's face it. Frosty was dangerous. No parent was comfortable with their child following his frozen ass all over town. This was written in 1950 and the belief in a radical hero that led children marching through the streets disobeying authority figures such as traffic cops was hard to stomach for those in power. Is it any coincidence that Frosty was leading the children with a broomstick in his hand? This was a witch hunt from the start. The lesson learned from this song is that new ideas seem fun at first, but there are harsh consequences. Frosty melted away due to the heat, much like the innocent women that burned at the stake in Salem, MA. Don't be fooled by the magic children. Stay the course, shy away from new ideas, and you'll certainly be spared an extremes in temperature related death. If you thought that was bad...
"Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" by Friedrich Nietzsche
Rudolph was clearly physically flawed. This made him unappealing to both female and male reindeer. The reindeer charged with the responsibility of guiding Santa's sleigh had to be in top physical and mental condition. This team of team of eight reindeer could easily be considered the master race of reindeer. The female reindeer wanted nothing to do with Rudolph due to their avid belief in eugenics. The female reindeer's only goal was to produce the ubermensche (or in this case uberdeir). Their lack of faith in god led them to place emphasis on the physical world. Creating a more advanced new generation of reindeer was the only action that gave life meaning. So it is no surprise that once Rudolph's mutation proves to be advantageous, the reindeer profess that he will go down in history. Ever hear of the Third Reich? This was the fourth.
Still not convinced? Listen to the Chipmunks Christmas song.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
You Mean You Forgot Cranberries Too?: Breaking Down the Best Christmas Song of All Time (491)
I don't take naming the best Christmas song of all of time lightly. I've been listening to hours of Christmas music since Thanksgiving has ended to get myself pumped for my annual Christmas party this weekend. In conclusion, I've come up with a few factors that make a hall of fame Christmas song. They are as follows:
1. Horns. Hearing a brass instrument is like receiving a swift kick to the ass. If you're listening to Christmas songs for hours on end, the ones with a horn section always stand out. If you're in a department store you won't even realize what song you're listening to until a song with horns comes on. They're like an alarm clock that scream, "Wake the hell up and drink some egg nog!"
2. Auxiliary percussion. Xylophones, tambourines, wood blocks, sleigh bells, cow bells, taco bells. You need weird percussion to remind people that you can not listen to this song after December. How many top 40 hits feature sleigh bells?
3. No cryptic references to some creepy wizard baby. Nothing brings a Christmas party/song down like getting all religious. Christmas is no time to get preachy. Save it for Easter. Incidentally, I always thought Christmas was the celebration of the birth of Toby from the Labyrinth. You know, the babe with the power. Isn't that why David Bowie was singing with Bing Crosby. Also, was there ever anybody in the history of time named Bing other than Bing Crosby?
4. The song has to get you into the Christmas spirit no matter how many times you hear it. By Christmas spirit, I mean drinking heavily, having fun with friends and family, and being somewhat pleasant to people you would normally run over with your car.
There are many songs that fit this template, but three stood out for me.
3. "What Christmas Means to Me" by Stevie Wonder. This song is a straight up jam. Stevie sings the living hell out of it like he does with everything. If this comes on in my car, I immediately start doing the Stevie head bob and buy a gift for the next person I'm going to see that day. This is one of the few Christmas songs ever made that could be a hit any time of the year if the lyrics were changed. However, since Stevie Wonder is super positive about pretty much everything, it doesn't lift my spirits up as much as the next two songs.
2. "Snoopy's Christmas" by The Royal Guardsmen. Honestly, it was very hard not pick this as my number one song. It's an accomplishment to write a great Christmas song, but to write a great Christmas song about a cartoon dog flying a plane and fighting a World War I ace fighter pilot is just astounding. The Red Barron could have killed Snoopy! Seriously, he had Snoopy in his sights and Snoopy's plane had ice on the wings! It was 40 below! The kraut bastards could have won the effing war! The history of the world was at the Barron's trigger finger tip. But no! He heard Christmas bells and instead decided to force Snoopy to land in the Rhine, where they proceeded to get bombed before flying around again. Really? This happened? This is a song that children listen to? The only reason this doesn't make number one is that I suspect Charles Schultz was secretly a Nazi sympathizer. Look it up. He had a chance to gun down a Nazi in WWII and claimed he forgot how to load his machine gun. A likely story.
1. "Christmas Wrapping" by the Waitresses. This one is just four minutes of perfection. Everything about it is amazing. I decided that this really deserves a full breakdown. Here we go...
It's important to note that at the time of this recording, The Wairesses' lead vocalist, Pattie Donahue, was fresh off setting the world record for the least amount of shit given: 0. This record would later be matched by DMX in the 90's. From the day she was born, up to and after the Waitresses' smash single "I Know What Boys Want," Pattie Donahue did not give a shit about anything. She knew what boys wanted, and she didn't even care! Now she was poised to record vocals on a Christmas song. Sounds like a disaster, doesn't it? We'll see.
OK, so the song starts out with some sweet auxiliary percussion. Well played The Waitresses. And what follows the auxiliary percussion? Horns of course! And these are some intense horns too. If I was a medieval king, I would have this horn part played before any of my messengers read an important scroll. So, we're about 15 seconds into the song and it already has two of the four required ingredients. In addition, it also has already established the greatest bass line in any Christmas song ever. It's not even a contest, this is just an amazing bass line. Next comes the hard part. It's time for Pattie to sing.
"Bah, humbug!" No, that's too strong
'Cause it is my favorite holiday
But all this year's been a busy blur
Don't think I have the energy
That's Pattie for you. Starting a Christmas song off with Bah, humbug! It looks like some things will never change. But wait...it's her favorite holiday? For a second I thought she may have had emotions, but I'm sure I'll be proven wrong. I mean, she doesn't even have the energy to celebrate Christmas.
To add to my already mad rush
Just 'cause it's 'tis the season.
The perfect gift for me would be
Completions and connections left from
One problem here. Isn't 'tis a shortened version of it is? And isn't it's a shortened version of it is? If so she just said "Just 'cause it is it is the season". EB White would not be happy.
Last year, ski shop,
Encounter, most interesting.
Had his number but never the time
Most of '81 passed along those lines.
Shocker. Pattie met a guy, got his number, and did nothing with it. How busy could she have been in 1981? I know the Internet wasn't around yet which probably caused some inefficiencies, but she's in a band called The Waitresses, which means she was more than likely a musician and/or a waitress. Try getting a 40 hour a week job before you complain that you're busy.
So deck those halls, trim those trees
Raise up cups of Christmas cheer,
I just need to catch my breath,
Christmas by myself this year.
Christmas cliches followed by Pattie continuing to remind us she doesn't give a shit.
Calendar picture, frozen landscape,
Chilled this room for twenty-four days,
Evergreens, sparkling snow
Get this winter over with!
Hate to tell you Pattie, but it's only been winter for three days.
Flashback to springtime, saw him again,
Would've been good to go for lunch,
Couldn't agree when we were both free,
We tried, we said we'd keep in touch.
You saw this guy three months ago and got his number. Now you see him again and you can't find time to go to lunch? I thought you knew what boys wanted? Give him what he wants Pattie. Give him what he wants!
Didn't, of course, 'til summertime,
Out to the beach to his boat could I join him?
No, this time it was me,
Sunburn in the third degree.
OK, now it's been six months and he's still inviting you out to his boat? He must be really ugly if he's rich and is still hanging on to your number. Also, I think you'd need to be on the sun to get third degree sunburn. I hope he's not a doctor because there's no way he's buying that excuse.
Now the calendar's just one page
And, of course, I am excited
Tonight's the night, but I've set my mind
Not to do too much about it.
Pattie's excited? Could she possibly care that it's Christmas? Maybe. While you contemplate that, how about another bad ass horn break?
Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!
But I think I'll miss this one this year.
So, she says that like a thousand times. We get it. She's missing Christmas because she's Pattie Donahue and she doesn't give a shit.
Hardly dashing through the snow
Cause I bundled up too tight
Last minute have-to-do's
A few cards a few calls
'Cause it's r-s-v-p
No thanks, no party lights
It's Christmas Eve, gonna relax
Turned down all of my invites.
Your just too damn cool for Christmas parties aren't you? You're impervious to feeling Christmas cheer. Go to hell Pattie Donahue!
Last fall I had a night to myself,
Same guy called, halloween party,
Waited all night for him to show,
This time his car wouldn't go,
Does anyone else find it kind of weird that she only hears from this guy once a season? Also, he can afford a boat, but not a car that runs? I'm beginning to think Pattie is making this dude up.
Forget it, it's cold, it's getting late,
Trudge on home to celebrate
In a quiet way, unwind
Doing Christmas right this time.
Doing Christmas right is staying home by yourself? Wow. You've outdone yourself Pattie.
A&P has provided me
With the world's smallest turkey
Already in the oven, nice and hot
Oh damn! Guess what I forgot?
What did you forget Pattie? Was it that Christmas was meant to be spent with friends and family? Was it that being a shut-in isn't fun around the holidays? Was it that a magic baby was born to save your smug ass? I hope not. We made it so far without a Jesus reference. Let's not ruin it now.
So on with the boots, back out in the snow
To the only all-night grocery,
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
In the line is that guy I've been chasing all year!
Oh...you just needed groceries. And of course you would see that guy you've been chasing all year. It's the beginning of another season. Are you not catching on to the formula?
"I'm spending this one alone," he said.
"Need a break; this year's been crazy."
I said, "Me too, but why are you?
You mean you forgot cranberries too?"
This explains a lot. The guy seems to care just about as much as Pattie. A young DMX perhaps? I guess we'll never know. Either way, this explains why the two of them could never get in touch. Also, cranberries? Maybe this is just artistic license. I hope she means cranberry sauce. Otherwise this is just weird, and it's made even weirder that the dude is buying them as well. I always hoped that when she asked him that question he would awkwardly respond, "Uh, no...cigarettes."
Then suddenly we laughed and laughed
Caught on to what was happening
That Christmas magic's brought this tale
To a very happy ending! "
Wait, what? Happy ending? You mean Christmas even got Pattie Donahue excited? You saw the exclamation point at the end of the verse, right? This is incredible! This totally sells me on the song. It gets me in the Christmas spirit every time Pattie's cold, black heart melts in the fluorescent glow of the supermarket. So what was it that made Pattie care? Well, in the 80's they'd say that Pattie Donahue's shit giver gave two shits that day.
Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!
Couldn't miss this one this year!
1. Horns. Hearing a brass instrument is like receiving a swift kick to the ass. If you're listening to Christmas songs for hours on end, the ones with a horn section always stand out. If you're in a department store you won't even realize what song you're listening to until a song with horns comes on. They're like an alarm clock that scream, "Wake the hell up and drink some egg nog!"
2. Auxiliary percussion. Xylophones, tambourines, wood blocks, sleigh bells, cow bells, taco bells. You need weird percussion to remind people that you can not listen to this song after December. How many top 40 hits feature sleigh bells?
3. No cryptic references to some creepy wizard baby. Nothing brings a Christmas party/song down like getting all religious. Christmas is no time to get preachy. Save it for Easter. Incidentally, I always thought Christmas was the celebration of the birth of Toby from the Labyrinth. You know, the babe with the power. Isn't that why David Bowie was singing with Bing Crosby. Also, was there ever anybody in the history of time named Bing other than Bing Crosby?
4. The song has to get you into the Christmas spirit no matter how many times you hear it. By Christmas spirit, I mean drinking heavily, having fun with friends and family, and being somewhat pleasant to people you would normally run over with your car.
There are many songs that fit this template, but three stood out for me.
3. "What Christmas Means to Me" by Stevie Wonder. This song is a straight up jam. Stevie sings the living hell out of it like he does with everything. If this comes on in my car, I immediately start doing the Stevie head bob and buy a gift for the next person I'm going to see that day. This is one of the few Christmas songs ever made that could be a hit any time of the year if the lyrics were changed. However, since Stevie Wonder is super positive about pretty much everything, it doesn't lift my spirits up as much as the next two songs.
2. "Snoopy's Christmas" by The Royal Guardsmen. Honestly, it was very hard not pick this as my number one song. It's an accomplishment to write a great Christmas song, but to write a great Christmas song about a cartoon dog flying a plane and fighting a World War I ace fighter pilot is just astounding. The Red Barron could have killed Snoopy! Seriously, he had Snoopy in his sights and Snoopy's plane had ice on the wings! It was 40 below! The kraut bastards could have won the effing war! The history of the world was at the Barron's trigger finger tip. But no! He heard Christmas bells and instead decided to force Snoopy to land in the Rhine, where they proceeded to get bombed before flying around again. Really? This happened? This is a song that children listen to? The only reason this doesn't make number one is that I suspect Charles Schultz was secretly a Nazi sympathizer. Look it up. He had a chance to gun down a Nazi in WWII and claimed he forgot how to load his machine gun. A likely story.
1. "Christmas Wrapping" by the Waitresses. This one is just four minutes of perfection. Everything about it is amazing. I decided that this really deserves a full breakdown. Here we go...
It's important to note that at the time of this recording, The Wairesses' lead vocalist, Pattie Donahue, was fresh off setting the world record for the least amount of shit given: 0. This record would later be matched by DMX in the 90's. From the day she was born, up to and after the Waitresses' smash single "I Know What Boys Want," Pattie Donahue did not give a shit about anything. She knew what boys wanted, and she didn't even care! Now she was poised to record vocals on a Christmas song. Sounds like a disaster, doesn't it? We'll see.
OK, so the song starts out with some sweet auxiliary percussion. Well played The Waitresses. And what follows the auxiliary percussion? Horns of course! And these are some intense horns too. If I was a medieval king, I would have this horn part played before any of my messengers read an important scroll. So, we're about 15 seconds into the song and it already has two of the four required ingredients. In addition, it also has already established the greatest bass line in any Christmas song ever. It's not even a contest, this is just an amazing bass line. Next comes the hard part. It's time for Pattie to sing.
"Bah, humbug!" No, that's too strong
'Cause it is my favorite holiday
But all this year's been a busy blur
Don't think I have the energy
That's Pattie for you. Starting a Christmas song off with Bah, humbug! It looks like some things will never change. But wait...it's her favorite holiday? For a second I thought she may have had emotions, but I'm sure I'll be proven wrong. I mean, she doesn't even have the energy to celebrate Christmas.
To add to my already mad rush
Just 'cause it's 'tis the season.
The perfect gift for me would be
Completions and connections left from
One problem here. Isn't 'tis a shortened version of it is? And isn't it's a shortened version of it is? If so she just said "Just 'cause it is it is the season". EB White would not be happy.
Last year, ski shop,
Encounter, most interesting.
Had his number but never the time
Most of '81 passed along those lines.
Shocker. Pattie met a guy, got his number, and did nothing with it. How busy could she have been in 1981? I know the Internet wasn't around yet which probably caused some inefficiencies, but she's in a band called The Waitresses, which means she was more than likely a musician and/or a waitress. Try getting a 40 hour a week job before you complain that you're busy.
So deck those halls, trim those trees
Raise up cups of Christmas cheer,
I just need to catch my breath,
Christmas by myself this year.
Christmas cliches followed by Pattie continuing to remind us she doesn't give a shit.
Calendar picture, frozen landscape,
Chilled this room for twenty-four days,
Evergreens, sparkling snow
Get this winter over with!
Hate to tell you Pattie, but it's only been winter for three days.
Flashback to springtime, saw him again,
Would've been good to go for lunch,
Couldn't agree when we were both free,
We tried, we said we'd keep in touch.
You saw this guy three months ago and got his number. Now you see him again and you can't find time to go to lunch? I thought you knew what boys wanted? Give him what he wants Pattie. Give him what he wants!
Didn't, of course, 'til summertime,
Out to the beach to his boat could I join him?
No, this time it was me,
Sunburn in the third degree.
OK, now it's been six months and he's still inviting you out to his boat? He must be really ugly if he's rich and is still hanging on to your number. Also, I think you'd need to be on the sun to get third degree sunburn. I hope he's not a doctor because there's no way he's buying that excuse.
Now the calendar's just one page
And, of course, I am excited
Tonight's the night, but I've set my mind
Not to do too much about it.
Pattie's excited? Could she possibly care that it's Christmas? Maybe. While you contemplate that, how about another bad ass horn break?
Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!
But I think I'll miss this one this year.
So, she says that like a thousand times. We get it. She's missing Christmas because she's Pattie Donahue and she doesn't give a shit.
Hardly dashing through the snow
Cause I bundled up too tight
Last minute have-to-do's
A few cards a few calls
'Cause it's r-s-v-p
No thanks, no party lights
It's Christmas Eve, gonna relax
Turned down all of my invites.
Your just too damn cool for Christmas parties aren't you? You're impervious to feeling Christmas cheer. Go to hell Pattie Donahue!
Last fall I had a night to myself,
Same guy called, halloween party,
Waited all night for him to show,
This time his car wouldn't go,
Does anyone else find it kind of weird that she only hears from this guy once a season? Also, he can afford a boat, but not a car that runs? I'm beginning to think Pattie is making this dude up.
Forget it, it's cold, it's getting late,
Trudge on home to celebrate
In a quiet way, unwind
Doing Christmas right this time.
Doing Christmas right is staying home by yourself? Wow. You've outdone yourself Pattie.
A&P has provided me
With the world's smallest turkey
Already in the oven, nice and hot
Oh damn! Guess what I forgot?
What did you forget Pattie? Was it that Christmas was meant to be spent with friends and family? Was it that being a shut-in isn't fun around the holidays? Was it that a magic baby was born to save your smug ass? I hope not. We made it so far without a Jesus reference. Let's not ruin it now.
So on with the boots, back out in the snow
To the only all-night grocery,
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
In the line is that guy I've been chasing all year!
Oh...you just needed groceries. And of course you would see that guy you've been chasing all year. It's the beginning of another season. Are you not catching on to the formula?
"I'm spending this one alone," he said.
"Need a break; this year's been crazy."
I said, "Me too, but why are you?
You mean you forgot cranberries too?"
This explains a lot. The guy seems to care just about as much as Pattie. A young DMX perhaps? I guess we'll never know. Either way, this explains why the two of them could never get in touch. Also, cranberries? Maybe this is just artistic license. I hope she means cranberry sauce. Otherwise this is just weird, and it's made even weirder that the dude is buying them as well. I always hoped that when she asked him that question he would awkwardly respond, "Uh, no...cigarettes."
Then suddenly we laughed and laughed
Caught on to what was happening
That Christmas magic's brought this tale
To a very happy ending! "
Wait, what? Happy ending? You mean Christmas even got Pattie Donahue excited? You saw the exclamation point at the end of the verse, right? This is incredible! This totally sells me on the song. It gets me in the Christmas spirit every time Pattie's cold, black heart melts in the fluorescent glow of the supermarket. So what was it that made Pattie care? Well, in the 80's they'd say that Pattie Donahue's shit giver gave two shits that day.
Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!
Couldn't miss this one this year!
Monday, November 28, 2011
Out of the Blue and into the Black (494)
The article below is taken from the Sunday, January 20th 2007 edition of the Philadelphia Inquirer.
Punkius Pilot Found Dead in Phila. Apartment
Doomis Malone, Inquirer Music Critic
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| Punkius Pilot, March 2006 |
PHILADELPHIA, Penn. Punkius Pilot, bassist and original member of the rock band BEARFACE, was found dead in the basement of his Manayunk apartment on the 4000 block of Dexter Street early Saturday afternoon. Doctors have yet to determine a cause of death, but substance abuse seems likely. Several empty bottles of MD 20/20 (a brand of fortified wine) were found in the basement of the apartment, along with sleeping pills, prescription allergy medicine, and a half eaten Chipotle burrito. Pilot had a reputation for grinding down prescription pills into a powder to season his burritos, as seen in the documentary "BEARFACE: Give me my Ass Back." BEARFACE drummer, Glam Bodacious, found the body at approximately 12:30 PM Saturday afternoon after finding the musician's front door wide open. Finding Pilot's body has clearly sent Bodacious into a state of delusion. "At first I was devastated," explained Bodacious to reporters on Saturday evening. "But then I remembered that if we just play 'Thriller' at midnight he'll rise from the dead and things should basically be back to normal."
Despite the optimistic outlook of Bodacious, BEARFACE's future is surely uncertain. While Pilot was not a driving creative force behind the band's music, he embodied the look and attitude of their legion of fans. His death could not be more untimely, as the band's first studio album "The Right to BEAR FACE" had just climbed to number one on Billboard's top 100 albums of 2006 in the previous month.
Pilot did sign a will while on tour last summer outlining his preferred funeral arrangements. However, the city of Philadelphia has denied Pilot's band mates permission to place his head on a pike and display it atop the Ben Franklin Bridge, as was his final wish. As friends and family determine the best way to pay their final respects, funeral arrangements are temporarily on hold.
Friday, November 25, 2011
What's in Your Head? (497)
Zombies. Zombies are in your head, most likely eating your brains. Quite honestly, I'm perfectly fine with that. I don't consider myself to be a zombie aficionado. If you consider yourself one, please say this out loud. If you're not ashamed of what you just said, please stop reading this. However, like I said I'm not an expert on the subject, but I don't see the downside to having my brain eaten by a zombie. In any zombie movie I've ever seen, there is usually a small pack of norms running away from the zombies so they can continue the human race. They spend their entire non-zombie existence in fear. They have to fend off the zombies with their tanks, and their bombs, and their bombs, and their guns, but ultimately, most of them die. When they do die at the hands of a zombie, they then usually turn into a zombie. So, the question I am posing is this: Would you rather
A. Run around terrified avoiding zombies at every turn, or
B. Chase around norms with your zombie buds, eating brains and high fiving.
I'd choose the latter. Wouldn't you much rather be the lion than the gazelle? Therefore, I've decided that in the event of a zombie attack, I'm getting my brains eaten immediately and will play the rest of the battle out on team zombie.
So, now you're saying, "I have principals, one of which is that I am against eating other people". That's admirable, but honestly you probably would only have to eat your friends' brains for maybe a few months. After a while, we'd probably run out of people, and everyone would be zombies. After that I imagine we would just start eating animals, which is what we do anyway. You're a vegetarian you say? If so, then you have some major issues to work out before you even have time to worry about zombies.
A. Run around terrified avoiding zombies at every turn, or
B. Chase around norms with your zombie buds, eating brains and high fiving.
I'd choose the latter. Wouldn't you much rather be the lion than the gazelle? Therefore, I've decided that in the event of a zombie attack, I'm getting my brains eaten immediately and will play the rest of the battle out on team zombie.
So, now you're saying, "I have principals, one of which is that I am against eating other people". That's admirable, but honestly you probably would only have to eat your friends' brains for maybe a few months. After a while, we'd probably run out of people, and everyone would be zombies. After that I imagine we would just start eating animals, which is what we do anyway. You're a vegetarian you say? If so, then you have some major issues to work out before you even have time to worry about zombies.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
This Might Bump Me into a Higher Tax Bracket (500 Days)
Like most people, I often lie awake at night wondering what I would do if I had billions of dollars and no need to work. Once I get past the easy decisions, such as where I would live and who I would have killed, I start to think about more pressing issues. Murphy once told me that if you're rich you can be eccentric. This is not a luxury afforded to the middle class. If you make just enough to pay the bills and display your excrement in a jar on your mantle, you're not eccentric, you're just weird. I've decided that this is something I would surely take advantage of. At the moment, I'm leaning toward opening several local, poorly named businesses in areas where they would surely fail. So far I've come up with the following:
1. Trail of Beers Gastropub located on a Native American Reservation
2. Crepe of the Nan King in China Town
3. The West Bank in Brooklyn
I would spare no expense to assure that each business was superior to any competitor in its area. It would be too easy for groups to boycott the businesses if the product being produced wasn't exceptional. I have no doubt that you'd often hear, "I know the Japanese ravaged our women and children, but god damn this is one hell of a crepe!" Likewise, I don't care how anti-Palestinian you are, you're not passing up 6% interest on your savings account at the West Bank.
Sure, I could use my money to build schools or shoe the children with no shoes on their feet (whatever the hell that means), but I've earned my money, probably, and I'll be damned if I don't exercise my right to make people uncomfortable.
1. Trail of Beers Gastropub located on a Native American Reservation
2. Crepe of the Nan King in China Town
3. The West Bank in Brooklyn
I would spare no expense to assure that each business was superior to any competitor in its area. It would be too easy for groups to boycott the businesses if the product being produced wasn't exceptional. I have no doubt that you'd often hear, "I know the Japanese ravaged our women and children, but god damn this is one hell of a crepe!" Likewise, I don't care how anti-Palestinian you are, you're not passing up 6% interest on your savings account at the West Bank.
Sure, I could use my money to build schools or shoe the children with no shoes on their feet (whatever the hell that means), but I've earned my money, probably, and I'll be damned if I don't exercise my right to make people uncomfortable.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Gotta Start it with a Positive Jam (501 Days)
Around this time eight years ago, I remember waking up with a terrible hangover, complete with all the normal symptoms associated with a typical night of heavy drinking. I especially remember this particular hangover because of the intense dry mouth that it brought about. Although I would have much rather gone back to sleep, I forced myself out of bed to head downstairs for a glass of water. It was nearly 10AM, so I knew there was no chance of anyone else in the house being awake. I tried to walk quietly down the stairs bracing myself with one arm against the wall. Before I even got to the living room, the smell of stale beer from the dozens of half empty red solo cups scattered all over the floor hit me, and I immediately felt the need to get sick. I probably could have vomited all over the floor without it being noticed for several weeks. However, vomiting meant buying bagels for the house, and I did not feel like driving my car. After catching my breath and forcing the contents of my stomach back to a more appropriate area, I made my way to the kitchen and unglued my feet from the floor one step at a time before I made it to the fridge. Once I had filled one of the remaining empty red solo cups with water several times, I decided I would eat something, so I checked the freezer for something microwavable. When I opened the freezer my view of the frozen food was blocked by a pair of women's boots. Without thinking, I moved the boots, grabbed a breakfast hot pocket, and put the boots back in the freezer. After I ate, I went back to bed and slept until about noon.
In 501 days I will be 30. I would imagine that by that point in my life, finding boots in my freezer may initially surprise me. I don't know how I feel about that. Since I have not been writing as much as I'd like to, and because at some point within the next few years there may be a little Barlich, which I hear slightly cuts into one's free time, I've decided start this blog while I still can. I don't have a definitive topic that I intend to cover, but I'd like to mainly concentrate on ideas and experiences that were generated in my twenties before they're over. Let the count down begin...
In 501 days I will be 30. I would imagine that by that point in my life, finding boots in my freezer may initially surprise me. I don't know how I feel about that. Since I have not been writing as much as I'd like to, and because at some point within the next few years there may be a little Barlich, which I hear slightly cuts into one's free time, I've decided start this blog while I still can. I don't have a definitive topic that I intend to cover, but I'd like to mainly concentrate on ideas and experiences that were generated in my twenties before they're over. Let the count down begin...
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