Twunch

Borneo- You're On Notice!

by now, you've all
heard it. 52 New Species found in Borneo!  And I feel the same way I do when network news violates those rape shield laws and publishes the name of the victim.  Why?
Why do you think this poor motherfucking tree frog was hiding out in Borneo?  Do you think he was doing it for press?  I don't think so. 
I'm not one of these people who thinks that he will see the world end within his lifetime.  Instead I think we will simply be fortunate enough to see the whole franchise slowly go downhill so our great grandchildren can contend with the ugly ending.  Sort of like dying after seeing the Phantom Menace.
And the reason that I can't get optimistic about our cache of Bornean Biodiversity is that without a doubt, this number will be trotted out in the future:
"Sobering news today.  Of the 52 species discovered in December 2006, only 17 could be found last month."
It's going to suck.  One more countdown to enjoy.
on the plus side:
Dateless Wonder FLORA, the KOMODO DRAGON, is with whelps!
Here's a story for you single ladies who are hearing the ominous last few ticks of your biological clocks reverberating through your fallow hips: Sister Serpents Be Doing It For Themselves!  "Life finds a Way," stutters Jeff Goldblum in Jurassic Park and indeed it does in a North England zoo as this Komodo dragon managed virgin conception just in time for Christmas.  Not everyone is happy though.  Certain Christian Family groups have expressed their dismay at this productive non-union citing that it might be a harbinger of our times.  Flora, when asked for comment, simply licked her eyeballs and flaunted her stem-cell based genitalia.
Lastly...
I wanted to apologize for a false report that I had updated my blog.  In fact I had worked on a segment on Mancrushes.  But as I looked it over, it was simply too gay to be placed here. 
Though in the interest of full disclosure I will place several of my Mancrushes (read: heroes) on the left over here.
The topic came up for me while I was watching the last few minutes of the last episode of the year of Colbert Report and a sleeveless Stephen Colbert was on stage with Peter Frampton, and the guitarist from Cheap Trick singing the theme from his show into a Talk-Box (if you know Frampton, you know what I
am talking about)  and I thought of a line from True Romance (the only good thing Christian Slater's ever been associated with) regarding Elvis:

"In "Jailhouse Rock" he's everything rockabilly's about. I mean he is rockabilly: mean, surly, nasty, rude. In that movie he couldn't give a fuck about anything except rockin' and rollin', livin' fast, dyin' young, and leaving a good-looking corpse. I love that scene where after he's made it big he's throwing a big cocktail                                                 party, and all these highbrows are there, and he's singing, "Baby You're So Square... Baby, I Don't Care". Now, they got him dressed like a dick. He's wearing these stupid-lookin' pants, this horrible sweater. Elvis ain't no sweater boy. I even think they got him wearin' penny loafers. Despite all that shit, all the highbrows at the party, big house, the stupid clothes, he's still a rude-lookin' motherfucker. I'd watch that hillbilly and I'd want to be him so bad."

Also, The President for Life of Turkmenistan died two days ago.  So my blog on that topic is officially a collector's item!  Happy hollandaise!

Fitty

My dear friends, and strangers who were looking for something else but have found themselves here,
Today you find yourselves reading what is my Fiftieth Blog Entry.  Now while I'm not saying that this once in a lifetime happening should merit the congressional medal of freedom (Though, Mr. President, while you have earned my personal disdain I am still willing to accept this award from you because of my high respect for the office you hold), I did think it worth mentioning. 
More than anything, I write this blog for the comments that you provide.  You the reader.  Those of you who know me well know of my narcissism, my need for attention, my desperate need to feel that I am somehow plugged into the stream of consciousness of every human being with whom I have shared time and space.  Each day I stand around desperate for email, voice mail, real mail, spam, fliers on my car windshield, any sort of communication that I might be able to construe as a few more heartbeats from the canary in a coalmine.  And for those few comments I receive I thank you.  And I encourage you.  Keep them coming.  The beast inside me needs to hear from  you.  Just comment.  Don't worry about on-topic/off-topic.  THIS IS YOUR BLOG TOO.  Its just my name is on it.  And I dictate what gets said here.  And I can erase stuff you write.  But I would not have reached fifty entries if I didn't honestly believe that everyday when you receive a little email in your inbox from a service that I cannot stop on my end, your face lights up briefly until going completely dark when you read my latest effort.  You, gentle reader, are the wind beneath my wings.  So comment.  All you want.  We've got room.  It's a big tent.  Happy holidays also.  Etc.


There is a reason that I preface all of this.  And of course you, the astute reader, with me since day one, recognizes that my prefaces always come when I've very little to say. 
WHITEHALL -- Former PhishTrey Anastasio was arrested by village police early this morning and charged with DWI-drugs after they stopped his car for failure to keep right.
Consider the joy this must have provided the arresting officer.  Trey Anastasio's patchouli stained fingers were the absolute incitement of tens of thousands of people to DUI, DWI, Drive Under Multiple Influences, Drive Under Spheres of Psychedelic Hegemony, Driving While Pursued By Bats, Driving While Rolling... and this cop pulls him over and finds...Drugs?  It must've been an amazing thing.  I expect that cops private parts grew three sizes that morning.

In spite of my absolute need to be inundated with vapid epistles, I unsubscribed to Phish's webservice today and not simply because of their former lead guitarists inability to keep right.  Nor because the band broke up two years ago.  Nor because I hadn't seen a show in six years.  I unsubscribed because I realized today that I hadn't yet.  I hadn't jumped off the trolley.
A (n embarrasing) List:
Number of Phish shows I went to..............................................17
Amount of money to attend said Phish Shows (17X~50)....................$850
Number of Phish shows where I committed activities that would keep me off of the senate............................................................................17
Number of miles I traveled to see said band at shows.......................5000
Number of Phish CDS of bootleg CDS I own.  Still own.  Still have with me......................65
Cost for above: 11 studio albums ($165) Live Releases ($155).............$320
Number of those CDs I listen to in an average year after 2003..............4
Number of Phish based websites I checked on average per day in 1999........................6 or 7
Number of strangers I met up with at their houses because we both liked phish and met on line........................................................................5 or 6
Number of people I've forced to listen to Phish in my life................more than 75.

Honest to God.  I look at this list and I want to kick my own butt.  And the thing is the signs were all there, man.  The signs were all there!  There were never any black people at these concerts.  Is that not a dead give away?  The whole scene resembled a concentration camp for English and Psych majors.  And then came the fact that none of their songs were ever on the radio despite the fact that the band desperately wanted to be on the radio.  The band asked its fans to call in to have their songs requestsed so they could prove that they really were a respectable band.  It was the rock'n'roll equivalent of Mormonism. 

So what can I say?  I guess I'm most sorry that I kept the door open this long.  I mean in 2004 they publicly admitted to not having practiced together in four years.  I can't come up with an equivalent to that level of ripping people off.  I'm angry and I'm hurt and I feel so stupid.  I have a buddy whose twice gone in for pyramid schemes.  And I don't mock him because he's always let me slide where this band was concerned. 

But here it is, 2006- nearly 2007 and the band does the first truly rock'n'roll thing they ever did in their 22 year history.  The front man gets busted with drugs.  Is it Heroin?  Coke?  Fuckin' Weed?  LSD?  PLEASE?
No.
Xanax.
Percoset.
Hydrocodone.
Pussies to the last.  And me the last sucker to figure it out.  Comment.
Please.  Fucking change the subject or something.  I'm seriously nauseous.  One more look at that list and I'm sure to throw up.

Actual Email

So there is a picture attached.
And I'm placing it down here.
.
.
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but I don't feel good about it because you guys are going to think I'm making this up.  Because I once blogged about a corpse I bought in Chinatown. 
But I assure you...this one's totally legit.
And not for the faint of heart.
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Here it is.
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Now I know we've got some knowledgeable art people out there.
Any takers?

So I can hate myself more accurately

Let’s talk for a moment about what I’ve been sort of obsessing about lately which is the curse of the middle class. I don’t have a good handle on this so I’m going to take a little bit of time to just try and empty my fucking skull at the moment. 

First, the curse of the middle class is

 

1) To believe that at any moment your life will be swept inexorably upwards by fate, nepotism, the Gods, Jesus, someone famous, your present lover, a future lover.

a. This belief precludes the need for hard work. Renders it unimportant because without a doubt you are soon to be saved.

b. The fact that this hasn’t happened to you yet is not fair, but with hope and prayer this unfairness will soon be rectified.

c. Your life hasn’t really begun until this moment of positive updraft.  

d. This moment of updraft may well be accompanied by a soundtrack.

 

2) There is a force somewhere watching you and everything that you do. You are constantly performing for an audience which may be posterity, God, Gods, the positive energy in the universe, your ancestors (not likely), a television crew that you imagine follows you around.

a. Every response you have to everything around you must have some sort of television model upon which to be based. When you find yourself without a television program upon which to base your response these moments must be commented upon as “freaky.”

b. Any occurrence of even the most random or arbitrary interest must be considered proof of your holding the interest of these divine forces. 

c. You are special because you feel you are special and your potent self awareness renders you special.

 

3) There is nothing more horrible than discomfort of any kind. Discomfort must be removed at all costs. In the event that you cannot personally remove the discomfort in question the discomfort must be railed at at all costs until a) someone else removes this discomfort or b) someone else notices and comments upon how uncomfortable your discomfort must be.

a. Discomfort can be physical, however it must not be grotesque. Middle class people are perfectly comfortable showing a scratched elbow, but not a calf muscle eaten away by cancer. Showing people discomfort that places them in discomfort is a violation of middle class ethics.

b. Discomfort of an emotional type, particularly based on familial or relationship problems represents the most readily addressable form of discomfort and begs for ADVICE (See ADVICE: Currency of the Middle Class)

c. Discomfort serves as an excuse for any and all forms of personal abnegation (See DISTRACTION) from Television to drugs and alcohol to impulse purchasing.

 

4) Your responsibilities extend only to yourself and your family, and then chiefly to yourself. This works axiomatically from the point of view: “If every person simply looked after themselves, we wouldn’t be in all this trouble.” Family serves as an exception here because as our progenitors they are owed something. Precisely what is a topic to be discussed at length and an issue for which we seek ADVICE.

a. A corollary here is that any situation of any magnitude cannot be remedied and being past remedy is therefore past concern. Massive social issues, wars, genocides, pestilences, poverty represent problems that simply exist and as such do not trouble the middle class. They are sad things and merit occasionally reading a newspaper to notice that they are sad and have not ceased to be so.

b. Politics are not your responsibility save avoiding appearing ignorant regarding their developments. The political party in power is to be known, as are the candidates for president, senator, and in interesting races congress. Local politics for the middle class extend to school board issues with the exception of SCANDAL (See SCANDAL: Don’t get caught unawares!)

c. Celebrity is the avenue of dreams for the middle class. Celebrity is not financial- however it is impossible for celebrity to be separated from money. To the middle class celebrities have achieved that very position outlined in Section 1: in a neo-Calvinist way they have already been swept inexorably upward and stand upon the hill for our observation. They know something that we do not, see more than we see, are privy to a great deal more than we are. There relative worthiness is subject to DEBATE, and a competent member of the middle class should be able to hold one’s own in such a debate. Topics for middle class celebrity debate include:

 i. ACTING. These people hold up the mirror to ourselves. Therefore acting can be said to be a worthy debatable subject.

 ii. SPORTS. These athletes represent the height of human development and therefore athletes can be deemed worth of DEBATE.

 iii. MUSIC. Musicians- particularly contemporary ones- or members of the celebrity pantheon of established songwriters and singers merit debate.

 iv. BOOKS. This is not a particularly debatable category as there is little celebrity to book writing. Occasionally a novelist will move into this field but rarely.

 v. PLAYS, POETRY, MATHEMATICS, ARCHITECTURE, and SCIENCE will only occasionally careen into the realm of middle class debate and generally only serves to distance the Middle Class from each other.

5) Community. Nothing is more important to the Middle Class person than belonging to a community. These communities can extend from Political Party affiliation to Light Beer affiliation. From the audience of Oprah to the audience of Jimmy Buffet. The point of community is that everyone in attendance be able to know that what they are feeling in that moment represents a one to one correlation with exactly what everyone else in that community is feeling. 

a. The strongest communities are created through ADVERTISING (see ADVERTISING: The Tie-Ins that Bind). 

b. RELIGION (see RELIGION) represents a strong form of that advertising via branding, product placement, shock and delight programs, back end inducements, and feel good music that naturally is intended to appeal to segments of the middle class or more accurately age groups of the middle class. 

 

I’m looking to continue this jag- please help to make a more complete diagnostic of the curse of the middle class