Archive for the ‘FAIL’ Category

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Your Arbitration Rights Explained

January 21, 2011

As one of many half-assed services we provide, Fancy Plans (in association with Pants to Match) is proud to present a brief guide to arbitration “rights.” This plain-English breakdown of the legal and technical terms used will help you get a “leg up” in your next legal battle with predatory lending agencies, home owner’s associations and the combative legal team currently suing you for violating your Confidentiality Agreement with last night’s drunken Tweeting.

In addition to breaking it down into terms the average layperson can understand, this somewhat brief explanation will also clear up the many reasons that “rights” keeps appearing in quotes. Key explanations and added language will be highlighted in blue text for readability and ease of use when quoting it out of context.

Color-coordinating often helps give the illusion of fairness.

WAIVER OF JURY TRIAL AND ARBITRATION PROVISION

Arbitration is a process in which persons with a dispute: (a) waive their rights to file a lawsuit and proceed in court and to have a jury trial to resolve their disputes (also covers other resolutions, such as barroom brawl, coin toss, H-O-R-S-E, humbled apology, threatening late night phone calls) and (b) agree, instead, to submit their disputes to a neutral (but biased) third person (an “arbitrator”) for a decision. Each party to the dispute has an opportunity to present some evidence to the arbitrator. (In your case, you may present receipts for expensive luxuries, your highly negative public school disciplinary record, all bankruptcies filed, all bankruptcies considered, personal letters of recommendation from acquaintances currently in jail/rehab.) Pre-arbitration discovery may be limited. (In your case, severely fucking limited. Usually this will be constrained to a valid photo I.D. and a valid blank check whose ABA routing number and account information can easily be copied by the other party for unauthorized withdrawals.) Arbitration proceedings are private and less formal than court trials. (Less formal = you being referred to as “this lazy asshole” or “deadbeat” as well as several disparaging remarks referencing your sexual misadventures/penis length.) The arbitrator will issue a final and binding decision resolving the dispute, which may be enforced as a court judgment. (Or more rarely, a court-sanctioned kneecapping.*) A court rarely overturns the arbitrator’s decision.

* Also: dickpunching.

THEREFORE, YOU ACKNOWLEDGE AND AGREE AS FOLLOWS:

1. Acknowledgments. You acknowledge and agree that by entering into this arbitration provision:

A. YOU ARE WAIVING YOUR RIGHT TO HAVE A TRIAL BY JURY TO RESOLVE ANY DISPUTE ALLEGED AGAINST US OR RELATED THIRD PARTIES, INCLUDING HOLDING AND MANAGEMENT COMPANIES, THUG-LIKE ENFORCERS, HIGHLY PAID CHARACTER ASSASSINS AND UMBERTO, THE LANDSCAPER;
B. YOU ARE WAIVING YOUR RIGHT TO HAVE A COURT, OTHER THAN A SMALL CLAIMS TRIBUNAL (COMPOSED OF IMMEDIATE FAMILY MEMBERS) RESOLVE ANY DISPUTE ALLEGED AGAINST US OR RELATED THIRD PARTIES (INCLUDING OUR RELATIVES); and
C. YOU ARE WAIVING YOUR RIGHT TO SERVE AS A REPRESENTATIVE, AS A PRIVATE ATTORNEY GENERAL, OR IN ANY OTHER REPRESENTATIVE CAPACITY (INCLUDING REPRESENTING YOURSELF, WHICH WILL LEAVE YOU SUBJECT TO QUICK AND MERCILESS JUDGMENTS), AND/OR TO PARTICIPATE AS A MEMBER OF A CLASS OF CLAIMANTS, IN ANY LAWSUIT FILED AGAINST US AND/OR RELATED THIRD PARTIES, INCLUDING OUR PYRAMID-SCHEMING BROTHER-IN-LAW, DOUG.

2. Arbitration Fees and Process: Regardless of who demands arbitration, at your request we will advance your portion of the expenses associated with the arbitration, including the filing, administrative, hearing and arbitrator’s fees (“Arbitration Fees”). These fees will be financed at 31.75% per day until arbitration has been sufficiently “dragged out,” at which point these fees will be financed at prime + 257%. The arbitration hearing will be conducted in the county of your residence, or within 30 miles from such county, or in the county in which the transaction under this Agreement occurred, or in such place as shall be ordered by the arbitrator, such as current vacation hotspots, international waters, local dives, wi-fi hotspots or the moon. In conducting the arbitration proceeding, the arbitrator shall not apply any federal or state rules of civil procedure or evidence, but rather an (wait for it…) arbitrary set of rules whose ever-shifting requirements will resemble those of the arbitrator’s favorite drinking game/”house rules” Monopoly. [In the highly improbable event that] the arbitrator renders a decision or award in your favor resolving the dispute, you should probably got out and buy a lottery ticket or bet on some horses or something. At the timely request of any party, the arbitrator shall provide a written explanation for the award including all applicable citations, charts, graphs, line drawings and NSFW Flash animation. The arbitrator’s award may be filed with any court having jurisdiction, most likely one miles away and open inconvenient hours/accessible only by rented boat/mule. In the much more likely event that a decision finds AGAINST you, the arbitrator will sentence you to one of the following:

  • 24 hours in stocks
  • Stoning
  • Caning
  • Immediate bankruptcy (moral AND financial)
  • Lashing
  • Plank-walking
  • Internet vigilante justice
  • Scapegoating
  • Book throwing
  • Bedazzling

All personal information will be forwarded to both 4chan and The Smoking Gun.

-CLT

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Proposed Additions to CBSC’s Banned Music List

January 18, 2011

Speeding through Canada's new "Alpert-Free Zone."

As you are probably aware, the Canadian Broadcast Standards Council decided to ban the unedited version of Dire Straits’ Money for Nothing thanks to a sole complaint by a Newfoundland woman who was completely outraged by the in-triplicate appearance of the word “faggot” and rushed to defend the entirety of non-straight humanity nearly 26 years after the fact.

You may also recall that some long-winded and profane amateur blogger spewed out around 1,400 words (about 40% of them variations of “fuck”) in response to this bit of news. This same blogger is back with more profanity and words to add fuel to the bonfire of stupidity with a list of tracks that would be better off blacklisted.

Lou Reed – Walk on the Wild Side
“Colored girls,” Reed? You should know better than that. The last person to use that outdated (and offensive) term was my grandfather, which makes him roughly the same age as you. So, um… as you were. Partial points for the positive portrayal of a transsexual.

Rolling Stones – Brown Sugar
Plantation owner rapes slaves. Doesn’t get much worse than that. Willing to ban immediately provided Angie and Wild Horses are included for the heinous crime of being incredibly whiny, a fact compounded by their overuse as a rock radio tempo shifts/call-in dedications.

Billy Idol – Mony Mony
Jimmy Buffett – Margaritaville
Two-part banning. Any song that needs the audience to create and interject the only entertaining parts themselves is wasting valuable airtime that would be better utilized airing heavy-handed PSAs. Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer will be given a seasonal pass.

They call it a "handlebar" moustache for a reason...

Queen – Bohemian Rhapsody
Reinforces gay stereotypes through campy operatics and bombastic multi-tracking. The moustache doesn’t help. Oh, and apparently they killed a guy. With a gun.

Three Dog Night – Joy to the World
Having just rolled out of the Happy Holiday season, do we really need to be exposed to thinly-veiled Christianity pimping?

Def Leppard – Pour Some Sugar on Me
Diabetes currently affects nearly 98% of the 75% of the American population with weight problems ranging from “charmingly obese” to “morbidly obese.” A listener might be compelled to literally “pour some sugar” on an unsuspecting diabetic sending them into shock or irreversible coma.

Plus, the drummer is still under investigation for the murder of Mrs. Richard Kimble.

Led Zeppelin – When the Levee Breaks
Causes undue panic, especially in Holland and other easily submerged countries. Let’s not even get into the Dutch tradition of jamming fingers into dikes.

Package deal: must also remove Stairway to Heaven and a track to be named later (probably Whole Lotta Love) as we’re all pretty fucking sick of hearing them.

Pink Floyd – Money
They clearly say “bullshit.” Do we really need another reason? (Ok, here’s one: quite possibly the worst song in Pink Floyd’s catalogue and I’m including the ones that are 15 minutes of dicking around while Syd Barrett looks for his remaining brain cells.) Won’t somebody please think of the children who aren’t even listening to this because they’re off in their rooms masturbating to the Suicide Girls while Lil Wayne’s nasal profanities help them figure how to treat a lady?

Elton John – Crocodile Rock
Bob Seger – Old Time Rock & Roll
Billy Joel – It’s Still Rock & Roll to Me
Pointless nostalgia written by men who were relics by the time they wrote the songs, setting off a recursive wave of pointless nostalgia for a mostly purloined era they were very minimally a part of. Part of a much larger rose-tint job that sanctified so-called “classic rock” as the last “honest” music genre, directly resulting in Eagles’ concert tickets starting at $450. Willfully excludes younger generations in a unctuous display of white, upper-class exclusionism.

Jagger pitches woo.

Rolling Stones – Under My Thumb
Pure, unapologetic misogyny. At least Eminem had the decency to wrap up the four minutes of rape and murder fantasies in Kill You with “Just kidding, ladies. You know I love you.” If only Mick Jagger could have been as sensitive.

AC/DC – Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap
Advocates murder as a universal solution to the problems of everyday life. Narrator utilizes predatory pricing, negatively affecting mom-and-pop hitmen. Will allow track to remain in airplay on the condition that You Shook Me All Night Long be removed from every jukebox/DJ bag in the world.

Tesla – Signs
Reinforces the dubious theory that long-haired hippies are positive contributors to society and tireless champions of the common man. Much like vampires, the moment you welcome them into your house they become a malevolent and destructively lazy force, moving in to your couch and hoovering down every snack in arm’s reach, all the while talking cocaine big about societal change and critiquing your cereal choices.

Imagine me/Working for you.” Sorry. Can’t do it. And I’ll bet you can’t either.

(Yes, I realize Tesla didn’t write this song but I’ll bet you haven’t heard the original on the radio in over 20 years.)

Aerosmith – Dude Looks Like a Lady
Steven Tyler’s rough approximation of The Crying Game creates an atmosphere of apprehension in men who are 90% sure that the lady they’re getting drunk is actually a lady.

A plea bargain arrangement allows for Dude… to stay in the rotation provided everything released after Permanent Vacation is removed from the playlist, thus freeing listeners’ ears from Aerosmith’s repertoire of single entendres and lazy ballads. Listeners are still welcome to imagine that Liv Tyler will look exactly like Steven Tyler once she ages into the shaky dignity that was Katherine Hepburn’s later years.

Van Halen – Hot for Teacher
Irresponsibly promotes inappropriate sexual relations between students and teachers, disguising the fact that nearly all of these trysts end in tears, litigation and a general increase in the male participant’s  reputation. (Cocksmithing +2)

This will also spare listeners from further diminishing returns from this increasingly one-trick pony (albeit one that has been ridden by three different jockeys).

During the full moon, Bryan Adams slowly transforms into Anthony Michael Hall.

Bryan Adams – Summer of ’69
If you can somehow manage to stretch your credulity enough to allow that Adams graduated high school at age 10, you’re still left with the rather shifty bit of sexual innuendo that he apparently layered on after the fact. (That fact being his birth date: November 5, 1959.)

Now, rather than being a blatant easy-to-rhyme fantasy, it’s actually a song about mutual pleasure. Neither kids nor their parents should be further exposed to the childish giggling at the mention of “69” nor the accompanying mental images conjured thereby, whether straight (“Ourobouros”), lesbian (“fur trading”) or gay (“recumbent bicycle built for two”).

Van Morrison – Brown Eyed Girl
Vanal references. And I’m pretty sure the old buggerer says something about “going down on the old man with the transistor radio.”

-CLT

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The Stabbing Knife Vol. 5: Doubleheader Edition

January 15, 2011

Don't sweat it, Roberto. I'm completely made of Tuesday.

If it’s completely true that snitches get stitches then it’s doubly true that self-righteous idiots who attempt to sand down the world’s rough edges through censorship get the business end of Roberto’s stabbing knife. And it’s been awhile, so we’re having a doubleheader. On to the wetwork.

We’ve all heard the phrase “One person can make a difference,” and we’ve all nodded thoughtfully while thinking, “Bullshit.” Just like the eternally optimistic phrase “Every vote counts” allows us to feel like our voice matters in the political arena, the sad truth is that one person has no chance in hell to make significant changes, especially in well-established institutions with years of history behind them.

And then something like this happens.

An anonymous (to us, anyway) complainant has singlehandedly gotten Dire Straits’ Money for Nothing removed from radio airplay in Canada. As many of you are probably thinking, what the fuck for?

This anonymous complainant (hereafter “AC” for the sake of my fingers) was offended by the use of the word “faggot,” which pops up three times as the narrator critiques the hair metal dominating MTV at the time. If you’re not familiar with the lyrics, I’m not going to run them down for you here. Perhaps you can get in touch with AC as you are apparently the only other English-speaking person alive who has not heard this overplayed rock radio staple several hundred times in their life.

A homophobe and his headband rarely part.

Having heard this track 26 years after it was released, AC sprung into action. Assuming the role of spokesperson for the entire gay (or “gey,” as I assume it’s spelled in Canada) community, AC fired off a letter to the offending station demanding they remove the song from airplay.

“A song was aired, “Money For Nothing” by Dire Straits, and included the word “faggot” a total of three times.  I am aware of other versions of the song, in which the word was replaced with another, and yet OZ FM chose to play and not censor this particular version that I am complaining about.

I find this extremely offensive as a member of the LGBT community and feel that there is absolutely no valid reason for such discriminatory marks to be played on-air.”

At first, they blew her off, albeit in a very kindly fashion, running down the reasons for keeping it in the rotation and citing precedent.

“In this specific case, the song in question has been played countless times in its original form, from its #1 release in 1984 to the present day, and continues to be aired on stations across the country in this form.  As this selection has been aired continuously for 25+ years, and the original version is regarded by many as an historically successful and essential rock hit in that form with these particular lyrics, management chose in this specific instance to retain the authenticity of this selection.”

“We understand the concerns you have raised regarding this particular selection and do apologize for any undue stress caused to you as a listener by the lyrical content of this selection, but based on the above reasoning, we have operated with the understanding that in this specific case, no editing of the material is warranted.”

That should have been that.

The C stands for "Capitulation."

Not good enough. AC was still perturbed and fired back, using a lot of words but mainly pointing out than anything less than removal or censorship of the track would be unsatisfactory.

“I am highly dissatisfied with the response I have received.  I do not feel the argument in favour of the unabridged version of the song was valid, and it is certainly not strong enough to justify playing such words on the radio.  This word carries an unavoidable connotation of hate.  By airing it unapologetically on the radio, this station is indirectly propagating hate.  Although I can see the value in a timeless classic rock song in its original form, I cannot help but feel that it does not overshadow the importance of ending discrimination.”

The CBSC, not wanting to be seen as “propagating hate” or not being really on board with “ending discrimination” through continued airplay of a 26-year-old song, consulted and decided in her favor, issuing a lengthy missive explaining their reasons for removing the track.

So, apparently, one person can make a difference.

Now, before you get all inspired and head out to start a carpool or become a locavore or write your Congressman in an attempt to rid hotels you don’t even patronize of PPV porn, take a good, long look at what this is.

This isn’t justice. This isn’t David triumphing over Goliath. Hell, this isn’t even the local repertory theater’s production of Pay It Forward.

This is myopic, narcissistic bullshit.

This is saying, “This song offends ME. Change it. Fuck everyone else.”

It’s not that I think Money for Nothing is a classic work of art or that using the word “faggot” is ok in all circumstances. But maybe, just maybe, this instance is alright because FOR FUCK’S SAKE, THE SONG HAS BEEN OUT FOR 26 YEARS AND YOU WANT TO CENSOR IT NOW??

For Christ’s sake (or so they say), the Parents Television Council is always trying to censor this or that offending bit of culture but at least they’ve got some sort of quorum and the signed petitions and email carpet-bombing to back it up. I don’t agree with them ever but at least it’s not just one person wheedling away with a 2-year-old’s sense of entitlement, moaning “I don’t like this! Changeitchangeitchangeitchangeit!!!”

Dr. Alan Gribben is unaware that his moustache is on slightly crooked.

This is no different than Twain scholar Alan Gribben who’s working tirelessly to crank out a version of Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn, free of the troublesome word “nigger,” which has coyly been replaced with “slave.” (Also on the chopping block: “Injun” and “Half-breed.”) Once again, lots of history but at least in this case he’s not the first person to censor or ban this book.

“The idea of a more politically correct Finn came to the 69-year-old English professor over years of teaching and outreach, during which he habitually replaced the word with “slave” when reading aloud. Gribben grew up without ever hearing the “n” word (“My mother said it’s only useful to identify [those who use it as] the wrong kind of people”) and became increasingly aware of its jarring effect as he moved South and started a family. “My daughter went to a magnet school and one of her best friends was an African-American girl. She loathed the book, could barely read it.”

His main issue seems to be that it makes him “uncomfortable,” especially now that he’s relocated to the South. If he can’t handle using this in its historical context then he probably shouldn’t be teaching. Obviously it’s too much to expect that he might provide his students with the historical background or engage them in a discussion of how hearing/reading this word affects them.

No, I guess it would just be simpler to jack Tom Sawyer’s brush and whitewash the shit out of an American masterpiece. Even worse, he’s teaching a new generation that if something offends you, you should get rid of it no matter its history or context or importance to other people who aren’t you.

In this era of self-victimization thousands of people are running around with a chip on their shoulder and hot tears of self-righteous humiliation in their eyes. Why should something that offends them need to disappear? Are these self-appointed guardians of our culture really that selfish?

If you think that you might be offended by the word “faggot” leaking out of your speakers in the near future, just shut it off or dial away when you hear the very distinctive opening of Money for Nothing. And if you think you might not be able to handle the word “nigger” in print then just fucking read/teach something else, you projecting bastard.

Stabbity-stabbity-stab-stab-stab.

Quick postscript: Reaction to the ban of Money for Nothing has been pretty much completely negative. Here’s a typical take from an actual gay man, Scott Thompson (Kids in the Hall):

“Shakespeare would be rolling over in his g-word,” said Thompson, the 51-year-old actor/comedian best known for his work with the Kids in the Hall troupe.

When you ban a word, you make the word more powerful. All this banning that’s going on just makes (the hate) go deeper and deeper into the soul, where it festers. Let it it out. I want to know what you really think. I can handle it.

“It makes me feel like we’re five years old and need to go potty. The n-word, I guess, is number 1 and the f- word is number 2.”

Check on previous victims here:
ASCAP
Steve Dahl
Garth Brooks
Bono

-CLT

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<(<0)

January 14, 2011

As Downey Jr. tries to sober up for the day's shoot, McCarthy attempts a new expression called "pensiveness."

[This is a followup piece to the Top 50 post involving  Lazer Crystal, specifically how much their music sounds like the perfect soundtrack to drugging it up 80s-style. Unfortunately, this film gets both the music and the drugging it up completely wrong. So, rather than the nihilistic depravity of Ellis’ novel, we get Andrew “Jiminy Cricket” McCarthy and Poison covering KISS.]

Adapting the “unfilmable” Bret Easton Ellis to the big screen has always been a challenge. The first attempt was so poor it’s amazing that Rules of Attraction or American Psycho even got greenlit, much less critically acclaimed.

There are a number of reasons why Less Than Zero failed spectacularly, none of which are named Robert Downey, Jr. or James Spader:

The Political Climate
Of all the behind-the-scenes tinkering that went on, it was the attempt to appease the national anti-drug climate that did the most damage. The conversion of the protagonist into a sympathetic, moral character pleased nervous studio execs and the First Lady herself but was completely at odds with Ellis’ coke-fueled tale of amoral hedonism.

(Specifically, this was the era of Nancy Reagan’s “Just Say No” campaign which posited that only reason kids were doing drugs was because no one had mentioned it was ok to turn down offers from drug pushers.

Speaking of which, drug “pushers” only exist in the fevered waking dreams of PTL/PTC members and the sordid cartoon tales of Jack Chick. The infamous Chick tracts in particular paint everything and everyone in ridiculously broad black and white strokes. Drug pushers are nihilistic wraiths of pure evil and the users themselves fare even worse, being prone to prostitution, theft, homicide, child abuse and suicide, all within 15 2-frame pages. Definitely something everyone should check out at least once.

Chick was right about one thing: hippies are idiots.

Ever since the government began placing various substances on various schedules, it’s been a seller’s market. No dealer really has to push his product. The shit practically sells itself. Just ask Rick Ross, whose massive amount of blow must have sold itself while he was in prison. As a guard.

[Notable exception: the Recession of 2008 when drug dealers were cold-calling previous customers hoping to drum up some sales. This lack of interest would seem to indicate that a lot of people can actually just use drugs rather than only abuse them. If you can stop scoring just because it no longer fits in the budget then you don’t really have a problem. Some people drove less. Some people bought more generics. And some people, apparently, bought less coke.]

/digression)

The Soundtrack
While it is very much a snapshot of the charts (Poison, Public Enemy, Aerosmith, Red Hot Chili Peppers, etc.), it is not in any way a good soundtrack, having more in common with Patrick Bateman’s avidly mainstream music collection than anything cutting edge or, indeed, fitting. Had the movie been made with any intelligence, we might have found some irony in the tracklisting. As it is, it reeks of calculation and demographic gladhanding, much like the film’s staunchly anti-drug message.

McCarthy tries (and fails) to produce more charisma than his tie.

Andrew McCarthy
McCarthy grabbed the starring role based on his work as the lead in Mannequin,a phrase that has never been deployed since. Bringing with him all the tabula rasa charisma that allowed him to portray a showroom dummy, McCarthy blands up the action with his tiring sincerity and an acting range that stretches from emotionless to a mild brow furrow when called upon to express something other than “warm body.”

Jamie Gertz adds nothing herself except some additional repressed awkwardness. The combination of these two leads’ sexual magnetism (we’re adding negatives at this point) adds a disturbing layer of self-consciousness to their sex scenes, coating these set pieces with a sheen of nervous sweat.

Nothing says "hot" like two people who look like that have no idea what the fuck they're doing.

It doesn’t help that the movie tries to have it both ways, pouring inordinate amounts of shoehorned morality all over the insincere hedonism. The principals go at it like two valedictorians attempting to slum it on Frat Row, conjuring images of your parents getting juiced and banging each other on the balcony of their Disneyworld hotel room.

McCarthy and Gertz never acted so hard in their lives, an effort which shows through clearly during these “passionate” moments. It creates a sense of empathetic embarrassment in the audience with their every sweaty maneuver being somehow less erotic than coke fiend Downey’s desperation mens room blowjobs. It all becomes like a trip to an American nudist colony where your initial enthusiasm is quickly dampened by the realization that the people who most want to run around naked are also the people who you most want to see with way more clothes on.

All in all, this travesty was enough to cause Bret Easton Ellis to disown it, distancing himself from the half-assed “message movie” that rose malformed from his breakthrough piece of narcissitic nihilism.

(Interestingly enough, Ellis’ sequel to Less Than Zero, Imperial Bedrooms has given him hope of a cast reunion. Unfortunately, he wants McCarthy and Gertz as well:

“Easton Ellis is hoping that a movie would reunite Spader, McCarthy, Jamie Gertz and others – and, after Robert Downey Jr.’s well-chronicled substance-abuse difficulties and subsequent triumph over them, feels that the recent Oscar-nominee could bring something special to a second turn as Julian Wells.”

Hellfire.)

-CLT

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Searchfest! Vol. 1

December 13, 2010

An intermittent roundup of what people are actually looking for when they stumble across our homepage. (“How intermittent?” I hear you ask. [Presses “Mute”.])

(Note: those of you fearing for the future of the world after reading through this probably NSFW list should keep in mind that some of these searches are singular, so it’s probably just a loose confederation of perverts rather than some sort of worldwide breakdown in ethics/spelling.)
  • alien sex fiend
  • slint
  • rick james

[Can’t go wrong with these first three. We’ve always had a bit of a musical slant and to be the go-to source for ASF is a very fine thing indeed.]

  • hellfish hoax

[Cryptozoology: another one of our major endeavors. Apparently.]

  • velva sheen tee

[I blame RF for this. This and the worldwide popularity of soccer/football/futbol.]

  • black boy vintage

[With enough vintage, I would presume you kind of have to start referring to them as “men.”]

  • prepubescent

[Ted, knock it off. That’s a company computer.]

  • breech presentation

[We do know pregnancy, esp. complications thereof.]

  • nobunny do the fuck youreself

[A recent addition, now with extraneous remix!]

  • president willard harvard

[Whom?]

  • delivery room
  • woman pregnancy drink

[The ends justifying the means while also searching for the liter-a-day justification.]

  • kids flowchart of the malting system

[Honestly, kids need to understand the malting system better. It’ll help them decide which beer should be purchased for them by their 21-year-old Uncle Enabler.]

  • appetite for destruction banned cover value
  • wolfgang amadeus mozart
  • wolfgang amadeus mozart pictures

[These are all related, but some are more related than others.]

  • pregnant women picture drinking

[Sorry, mom. I was going to take the photo down but it’s drawing so many pageviews!]

  • scrooge’s christmas carol

[Revisionist history.]

  • lion tamer school

[Se habla espanol.]

  • Волфганг Амадеус Мозарт

[Ебать да!]

  • donald duck dick

[Limited edition collector’s plate.]

  • douglas adams remix

[This is remarkably specific.]

Precisely.

  • guide to binge

[Do whatever. Excessively.]

  • hurted penis

[A well-placed dickpunch often strips away grammatical functions, if only temporarily.]

  • bangin naked chicks

[What the fuck? Did the rest of the internet suddenly run out of porn?]

  • john denver in a santa hat

[And nothing else.]

  • grinderman+bellringe blues+meaning

[Bellringe blues, n., sl. – To have caught your “bell-end” in a hand wringer whilst trying to proposition the laundrywoman.]

  • inanimate object affection

[Syn., necrophilia.]

  • christmas shoppers paradise carter usm free mp

[Spend your money, girls, on sprays and lipsticks/Tested on bunnies, girls, strays and misfits]

  • gravity powered naked girls

[Nothing is more flattering for naked girls than hundreds of pounds of centrifugal force.]

Shortly after this shot was taken, Karen was hit by a bouquet of roses, suffering multiple fractures and contusions.

  • boy 5-stick-figure

[That’s not a boy. That’s Karen Carpenter.]

  • spelunking jokes

[We’re up to Volume 8 already…]

  • andrew eldtritch hat

[Near-mint condition. Never exposed to the sun’s rays. Smells faintly of fog and acrimony.]

  • longest blonde hair

[Little know fact: Rapunzel? Actually Jewish.]

  • harvard university degree

[I can print you out one right now. My Lexmark sports near-professional 320 dpi.]

If you squint, it looks like someone's having some sex...

  • alien sex picture

[Most likely resulted in the above, rather than you know, actual aliens getting their freak on.]

  • stevie wonder songbook download

[It’s incredibly hard to download braille. Might need some sort of codec…]

  • doll girl naked

[Ted. Seriously. They log everything.]

  • breech position at weeks

[Information for “null” weeks is pretty hard to come by.]

  • prepubecant girls

[Ted? Could you meet me in the IT lab? And turn your spell-checker on.]

  • human league pics

[Still tops in the universe!]

-CLT

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Buy American! The Benefits of Purchasing a Big 3 Vehicle

October 19, 2010
The 2010 Buick Rhetoric: the finest in American automocars.

The 2010 Buick Rhetoric: the finest in American automocars.

[Still not blogging, but actively planning my return. Until then, here’s a piece that has lost a little timeliness, but still contains a laugh or two. Possibly three. Definitely less than five. Originally published May 22, 2009.]

There has never been a better time than now to buy an American car. Apparently. What with your tax dollars all tied up, you’d think they’d be giving them away. But until that point, here are a few of the many reasons to buy American!*

*Exclamation point required by stipulations of federal bailout.
The ! makes it patriotic.
  • Free up the next election day! By purchasing a Big 3 auto, your vote is already cast for Obama in the 2012 election.
  • Kilometer markings still in small, unobtrusive font size.
  • Park without getting towed at your local VFWs.
  • 30% domestic content, which is 15% more than your domestic content.
Vehicles awaiting government-backed warranty service.

Vehicles awaiting government-backed warranty service.

  • Your warranty is backed by the U.S. government, an entity known for its swift action and efficient problem solving.
  • The opportunity to finally use the phrase: “I liked it so much I bought the company!”
  • Guaranteed to contain at least 22% subsidies.
  • Adjustable gun rack option means even your Neon can look manly.
  • Runs on E85, an environmentally-friendly biofuel consisting of good ol’ American corn and bullshit.
  • At 15 MPG, you’ll stimulate the economy plenty.
  • More seating area and larger interior mirrors make rush hour multi-tasking a breeze.
    @asshole: i’m going 70 in the snow stuck behind the orphanage bus.
    @asshole: i’m going to try to pass them on the shoulder.
  • Horn plays latest Toby Keith fight song.
  • Purchase allows you to proudly state that you fought in Vietnam. Purchasing the rust-proofing option adds “…and lost <limb of your choice> fighting for your right to purchase this fine vehicle, with no money down and no payments for 60 months, on approved credit.”
  • Allows your scab ass to safely sneak past union picket lines.
  • Now you can stop saying, “Do you have any Grey Poupon?” and start saying, “That thing got a Hemi?”
  • Avails you to a wide selection of decals featuring Calvin urinating on various vehicle logos.
  • 40% less “You aren’t from around here, are ya?” harassment.
  • If you die in a collision with a foreign-made vehicle, you automatically go to heaven. God bless America!
  • 30% more bumper sticker room than the leading foreign competitor. (Note: VW Bus not included in this comparison.)
  • You’ll earn the undying respect of Donald Mills. (Note: Valid until Mr. Mills dies.)
In an attempt to cut costs, Ford engineers experiment with forced mating.

In an attempt to cut costs, Ford engineers experiment with forced mating.

  • Unsafe at any speed? Sounds like a dare to me!
  • 2010 Humvee features ELF-deflecting crumple zones and a year’s supply of Enzyte.
  • Fewer savage beatings by UAW goons.
  • Receive the Big Three Insider newsletter, featuring real estate deals in Detroit, MI.
  • Buy any full-size truck, receive a complimentary ’85 Cutlass for the yard.
  • Will allow you to continue believing that Born in the U.S.A. is one of the most patriotic songs ever written. (Note: will also allow you to continue believing that R.E.M.’s The One I Love is a beautifully romantic song and should be played at your wedding.)
  • According to J.D. Power and Associates, the Chevrolet Camaro is still the “#1 choice for meth users/dealers.”
  • Buying a German car is like giving money directly to Hitler. Unless you’re cool with that, in which case it’s like giving money directly to the Jews.
  • Korean and Japanese cars contain too many choking hazards.
  • As you struggle through your latest layoff, you can rest assured that your purchase helped keep the real American heroes “working.”
  • A nation of stupid, obese children will benefit from the government’s “Too Big to Fail” program.
  • Do we really need to say the thing about the terrorists winning? You should know this by now.
  • You probably should have read the fine print before signing Gingrich’s “Contract with America.”
  • Bylaw 412.3(b) of Obama’s “Buy American!” policy states that “no fewer than one (1) in three (3) first sexual experiences must take place in a vehicle containing a minimum of 60% domestic fabrication.” The policy goes on to state that “such (American) vehicles are generally roomier and more suited for awkward groping” than their foreign counterparts, as well as being more prone to actually running out of gas.
  • Complimentary CD of Lee Greenwood’s greatest hit.
  • As a result of John C. DeLorean’s consultation, random “bonus” vehicles will ship with 2-4 kilos of cocaine in the door panels.
Lincoln believes that some things never go out of style!

Lincoln believes that some things never go out of style!

Brought to you by: The 2010 Lincoln Xenophobe

There’s no better vehicle for your golden age driving than the 2010 Lincoln Xenophobe, featuring ample seating for six and a wheelbase of 38 feet. Relax in the comfort of leather seating (from poached free-range cattle) and genuine ivory highlights. The all-encompassing luxury and silent ride, thanks to Lincoln’s patented “Deathclock V-12,” will whisk you away to a simpler time.

A time when the speed limit was 35 mph. Everywhere. A time when youngsters had their pants pulled up, their eyes down and their mouths shut. A time when enjoying a party line didn’t mean dialling a 900 number. A time when quality products were made by Raybestos, Union Carbide and the Universal Music Group.

A time when heading out to a social event with a live band meant safe, chaperoned dancing and punch, rather than shameless full-contact grinding and a lecture about the trade deficit. A time when women and minorities couldn’t vote. A time when black was the only color for cars and white was the only color that mattered.

The 2010 Lincoln Xenophobe: Speak English or Die!

-CLT

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Exclusive Clive Cussler Interview!

October 6, 2010
Clive Fucking Cussler and his fucking watch

Clive Fucking Cussler and his fucking watch

[To be fair, he’s no more or less talented than any other author who has passed the threshold of “writing” and headed for the greener pastures of “manufacturing.” However, he does have a certain look about him and won’t stop showing of that damn watch. Originally published July 21, 2009.]

The following contains transcribed excerpts from a Q&A session during Clive and Dirk Cussler’s promotional tour for their new book, Sparta. Following a publicist-approved interview (read it here), in which Clive discussed, among other things, his new watch, his product placement of said watch into his novels, his product placement of himself into said novels, a little more about the watch and various other watery items.

The Cusslers then threw caution to the wind and began fielding questions from their gathered fans. All audio and video of this event has been seized by their intrepid publicist, leaving only this record of how everything went more than a tad Pete Tong (ask Nobbly).

Publicist Merle Aaronsen (MA): Alright, folks! Now, we’ve got a real treat for you! Clive and his son, Dirk have agreed to a short Q&A session. Just raise your hand if you’ve got a question. Just like back in school.
[some appreciative laughter, mostly from Dirk, whose laugh can be charitably described as an ‘insane giggling.’]
MA: Yes?
Thomas: Hi, Thomas XXXXXX here. Big fan. I’ve read most of your latest novels. I just had a question: are you planning a followup to The Deep?
Clive Cussler (CC): [brief silence, clears throat]Ah. I think you may be confusing my work with Peter Benchley’s. Or vice versa.
A wonderful man, Peter. A wonderful, humorous man… with, uh, a rather unhealthy collection of pornography. Not that I’m judging. He was a witty and thoughtful guest during many weekend getaways, paid for by our mutual publisher.
MA: Thanks. Always a pleasure.
CC: Witty, delightful and hopelessly addicted to painkillers. When he was down we used to cheer him up by playfully referring to him as “Admiral Painless” or “Bluebeard the Rapist.” [laughs]
We prefer to remember his playful qualities and mastery of the sea. Not the other, troubling aspects like the stalking charges brought against him by Jacqueline Bisset. Many of us in his inner circle would never have seen this side of him, if he hadn’t invited us to his London mansion and shown us his so-called “Bisset Shrine.” I still get chills. And a bit of a woody. [laughs] She was quite the looker!
Anyhow, The Deep is by fucking Peter Benchley. Next question?

Not Clive Cussler (note lack of prominently displayed watch)

Not Clive Cussler (note lack of prominently displayed watch)

Alice: Hi, I’m Alice. I had a question regarding your co-author, and son, Dirk. He seems to be coming—
Dirk Cussler (DC): [giggles for a few seconds]
Alice: —into his own. Will he be writing a few novels of his own or branching out to another area of fiction?
DC: I’d like to handle this, Dad. While I have seen much improvement over the years, we, at this point, do not consider it wise to split up the franchise any more than it already is. The kind people at all of the bookstores have informed us that there is simply not enough shelf room for all of novels as it is. In fact, they have seen sales slip because of… what’s this here?
[inaudible discussion, voices of CC and MA occasionally surface, but nothing of use]
DC: … cannibalization. Sounds terrible! Maybe we should make smaller books! [giggles]
CC: He’s right. And well-trained. While we do have many ideas and watches to push, the novel mill suffers from its best friend and unfortunate bottleneck, the bookstore. Trying to find space to plunk another story in between Clancy, Patterson and Nora Roberts is like trying to pitch a tent in an outhouse. Some seamen vernacular there.

Donald: Hi, Donald here, retired Navy. I noticed that early on in Sparta you referred to the frigate displacing nearly 6,500 tons of water, which would be true if it was fully loaded. But nowhere leading up to this statement do you give any indication that it would be.
CC: Well, it very well could have been. Perhaps they had loaded at the last dock—
Donald: No. No. In fact it says here, “…the frigate, running light after offloading the last of the rescued crew, displaced 6,500 tons of water, like so much air out of a balloon…”
CC: [silence] It… it may have been a Class B, which are known to displace—
Donald: Two sentences later it says it’s a Class C lightweight frigate—
MA: I don’t think this line of questioning is going to help sell, I mean aid in enjoyment—
Donald: I mean, not to nitpick, but you severely overstate the amount of torque allowed by that motor type and I think you may have forgotten to carry a 1 or something when figuring the fuel efficiency—
CC: I don’t think this is going anywhere. We have a staff of fact-checkers to verify this stuff, do we not, Merle?
MA: Absolutely. They—
CC: And I will not be questioned as to the veracity of these claims! These are books written for enjoyment, and while I appreciate you bringing this to my attention—
DC: Dad, remember what doctor said about the stress—
CC: You’ll shut the hell up, Dirk. I splash your name on the book and what? You can’t even check these things out? They have to show up in public?
DC: But I can’t understand the fact-checkers. Merle outsourced that job. Venkater…man…swo… Have you talked to them? It’s like nothing gets through, no matter how loud or slow I talk—
Donald: I’d also like to point out that the Mary Celeste’s name is misspelled no fewer than 8 times between chapters 16-20. Sometimes as Marty, McLeste, Virgin Mary Celestine, Mary C. Less—
MA: This has been a problem, but I can assure—
CC: You can’t assure shit! You get a handle on this or I am out of here. The Silver Phantom is parked right outside, and I can drive it myself, believe it or not—
DC: It needs fixing. The door handle fell off when the chauffeur didn’t open my door. I had to get it myself because he was angry that I had been kicking his seat—
CC: Will you please refrain from talking? Please! I would like to see a return to some propriety here and I want that man out.

Dirk Cussler (left) making his dad happy by not talking; attempting to smile

Dirk Cussler (left) making his dad happy by not talking; attempting to smile

[some scuffling noises and a few protests, but it sounds like Donald leaves on his own terms]
Donald [somewhat faintly]: Fuck you, Clive! Do your research!

MA: I think we have time for a couple more, but let’s keep the questions fair, shall we?
Mark: Hi, Mark here. I was doing some research—
CC: [some sort of warning growl]
Mark: —and I came across some statements you had made concerning your naval knowledge. It reads, and I’m quoting here: “no one has time to do the research. It’s just the way it is. I’ve been cranking novel after novel for years without any issue. Here’s what you need to know. Ships float. Except when they don’t.”
CC: I don’t recall saying that…
Mark: Quite possibly not. The anecdote indicates that you were probably drunk. Anyway, I guess my question is more of a statement. Or an accusation. There seems to be some indication that your research is very weak to say the least—
CC: Get him out, Merle. Get him out or I send my idiot son out to your house for the weekend. I know the pets will probably rebound but I’m sure those repairs couldn’t have been cheap.
MA: I’m getting him out. You keep that little moron away from my house.

[At this point, we are left to deal with little more than some muffled talking, as Mark is presumably being escorted out. There is no parting shot from Mark, but there does seem to be arguing between CC and DC with only a couple of audible phrases. One from DC: …it would be happier with a saddle on it but then I think Merle scared it… One from CC: …Jesus Christ Almighty! I should have named you after a blunter object…]

[Some general concerned chatter resumes in background along with the Q&A, which Clive sadistically decides to continue.]

William: Hey, um… kind of a weird question… the Sparta book seems to have a lot, and I mean a lot, of homosexual overtones. Is this intentional?
CC: The fuck if I know. I barely read the damn things. Ask my son.
DC: I just wrote some stuff and then Paul (Kemprecos) edited it.
CC: Well, there you go. He’s Greek, for Christ’s sake. That explains that. Next question.
William: Actually, it’s in one of yours written with Dirk, according to Thriller in a Manila. I don’t think that Paul was involved—
CC: You have got to be fucking kidding me. Is anyone reading these things before they hit the shelf? I’ve got a brand to maintain. I should be getting drunk night after night and counting my money until my hangover goes away. I’m not going to micromanage this mill. Merle, you are about 30 seconds from hitchhiking home with Zorro the Gayblade over here. Let’s wrap this up. I don’t know why I even bother.
Did you all get a copy? I had better see more hands in the air. This is bullshit, Merle.
DC: Dad, dad. Let me get your pills—
CC: The only thing you need to get is few thousand more brain cells. I’ll just give God the benefit of a doubt and assumed they’re backordered. Get our stuff, Merle. You help too, monkeyboy.
DC: I would like to thank you all for coming. Merle and I appreciate your support—
CC: Put that fucking note down.

MA: I would like to take one more question.
CC: What? [inaudible] fired for [inaudible] complete abortion of [inaudible] your ass in a fucking sling [inaudible]
MA: [inaudible] resignation when I get back [inaudible] embarrassing yourself [inaudible] looks like about 10 years old [inaudible] this publicity [inaudible] asshole for not taking a child’s question.

Ma Cussler steps into the fray...

Ma Cussler steps into the fray...

CC: Alright. [very heavy sigh] One more. From the youngster towards the back?
Youngster: Is this the line for the Harry Potter midnight release?

[some crashing noises, yelps from the audience, a mic hits the ground with a burst of feedback]
DC: DAD! YOU’VE GOT TO—
[sound of fist hitting flesh]
DC: MY EYE! MOM WAS RIGHT—
[more noise, some indeterminate, a loud roar from Clive(?)]

CC: I DON’T HAVE TO TAKE THIS! I’M CLIVE FUCKING CUSSLER!
[more smashing noises, shelf tipping over(?), concern has turned to near panic]

Youngster: I SAID, IS THIS THE LINE—
[loud thud, feedback, then silence]

-CLT

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What Not to Do in the Magic Kingdom

September 2, 2010
Mickey Mouse: yet another victim of racial profiling

Mickey Mouse: yet another victim of racial profiling

[Nothing like ruining things for others. It’s what makes blogging “virtually the happiest place on earth.” Originally published July 7, 2009.]

Disneyland is constantly referred to as “the happiest place on earth” and it’s easy to see why. The culmination of Walt Disney’s love of animation and copyright extensions have turned parts of California, Florida and France into a paradise for children of all ages (more specifically, children ages 5-12).

For parents though, the reality is a mind-numbing combination of these aspects:

  • Watching your children in public
  • Standing in line
  • Dealing with other people’s children
  • Blowing ridiculous amounts of money

Is it any wonder that five years down the road the kids are getting stashed at Grandma’s while the parents head to Las Vegas to blow the college fund on roulette and Wayne Newton tickets?

Disney Corporation runs a tight ship to ensure the magic happens for everyone. The evidence of their quality control is everywhere, from the scared shitless would-be actors cowering in their mascot suits to the numerous sequels cranked out year after year, turning beloved favorites into just another piece of the franchise.

Peter Pan: arrested for transporting minors across dimensional lines; failure to fulfill EOE requirements (Hook v. Pan)

Peter Pan: arrested for transporting minors across dimensional lines; failure to fulfill EOE requirements (Hook v. Pan)

If you are planning to blow the equivalent of a used car in one weekend, it just makes sense to be aware of the many words and actions, often used in panic or frustration, that will hasten your exit from the Magic Kingdom.

Educating other guests about Walt Disney’s Nazi-sympathizing.

Asking any black employees if they are part of the Song of the South exhibit.

Asking why there are so few black employees.

Exclaiming “But I can buy this shit anywhere!” while in the gift shop.

Playing “Spot the Penis” at every promotional poster.

Covering your children’s eyes every time Donald Duck’s pants-less ass waddles by.

Speculating on Beauty and the Beast’s pre-transformation love life.

Pointing out that the estate of the Brothers Grimm would be paved with gold, if there was any justice in the world.

Exclaiming “But I can get this shit free with any Happy Meal!” while in the gift shop.

Spending all day in the World of Tomorrow Internet cafe, gaming the exchange rate in an attempt to turn a profit on your Disneyland Fun Bucks.

Telling staffers “You should build one of these overseas. The French just eat this kind of cheerily overdone bullshit up.”

Composing fan fiction anywhere with the park boundaries.

Jaywalking.

Entering the park dressed in a homemade, anatomically-correct mascot costume.

Informing Kurt Warner and his family that only “Super Bowl winners” are allowed to go to Disneyland.

Detained on charges of performing indecent fan fiction thereby corrupting many, many minors

Detained on charges of performing indecent fan fiction thereby corrupting many, many minors

Wandering around the set of High School Musical 4in a black trench coat.

Handing out pamphlets entitled: Anthropomorphism: Hell’s “Gateway” Drug?

Turning the It’s A Small Worldride into your personal soapbox to decry the failure of multi-cultural assimilation and/or a geography lesson explaining just how large the world actually is.

Asking for directions to Jellystone National Park.

Challenging any mascot to a/an:

  • Footrace
  • Arm wrestling match
  • Drinking contest
  • Round of strip poker

Referring to every other attraction as an “affront to God”

Demanding to see the Jonas Brothers Genetic Imagineering Compound to “verify the status of replacement Jonas Brothers, who will be released in case of sexual indiscretion, substance abuse, removal of purity rings or post-pubescent ugliness.”

Stating publicly “Sigfried and Roy’s bungalow during a weeklong amyl nitrate bender? Now that’s the true magic kingdom!”

Forging Scrooge McDuck’s signature as co-signer on your auto loan.

Asking if the next Mouseketeer reunion will be only open to successful, non-infamous “artists” or will it just be Britney Spears and Annette Funicello making out awkwardly for five minutes, “like last year.”

A bloated and drugged-up Sleeping Beauty, photographed only hours before her fatal overdose

A bloated and drugged-up Sleeping Beauty, photographed only hours before her fatal overdose

Failure to cover your children’s eyes whenever a pants-less Daisy Duck waddles by.

Outing the park’s heterosexual employees.

Holding a press conference to declare that your newly incorporated town, Hannah, MT is owed back payment on merchandising royalties.

Referring to park employees as “carnies” due to their refusal to produce a certified “Imagineering” degree.

Messing with the thermostat.

Making pretentious small talk during the tour. For instance:

“Goofy and Pluto, while both dogs, possess a ruling class/working class relationship. At a cursory glance they may appear to be equals. Further study of the two reveals vast differences. Goofy has clothes and can talk. Pluto, representing the long-exploited working class, is both literally and metaphorically naked and speechless, stripped of his protection and validity by his powerful owner…”

-CLT

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Note to Self:

August 31, 2010
Drawing "Internal Dialogue" = Instant Pictionary FAIL

Drawing "Internal Dialogue" = Instant Pictionary FAIL

[I honestly don’t know why I can’t bang out lists like this anymore. I’m hoping that means I’m “honing my craft.” Somehow I doubt it. Thanks for your patience and re-reading. Orignally published 08/12/2009.]

The bear cub was happier playing by itself.

Nothing goes to “11.” Not even my lovemaking.

RIAA lawyers do not have a sense of humor.

Neither does the Border Patrol.

A killing spree becomes a lot less forgivable once the phrase “multi-state” is attached to it.

Professional bodybuilders are incredibly sensitive about the size of their penises.

Personal phone calls probably do not need to be recorded for “quality assurance.”

The phrase “Only you can start forest fires” would seem to be a hell of a lot more accurate.

Describing your bedroom as being “where the magic happens” is not accurate on several levels. Plus, it makes family gatherings awkward.

A magician could probably say that about their bedroom. It would work on, like, all levels.

It would be awesome to be a magician!

The boss has begun to use the south entrance, which is a blind spot, especially when digging through his desk.

Those warning labels on industrial adhesives aren’t fucking around.

Man, these casts really make your legs itch. On a related note, the Wu-Tang Clan really ain’t nothing to fuck with.

Stop assuming everyone is just “impersonating” a police officer.

“Load bearing” and “extraneous” are not synonymous.

Using the phrase “You can have x when you pry it from my cold, dead fingers” in prison is less of a threat and more of an invitation.

There is a time and place for everything, except possibly your impression of Christopher Reeve as a lifeguard.

Hookers will never agree with the phrase “It all pays the same.”

Try to be more specific about “casual dress” in the future.

Bar managers and owners would prefer to be the ones to decide when drinks are “on the house.”

Take the blue pill.

Whoever said “That which does not kill you makes you stronger,” obviously wasn’t considering suicide attempts. Or muscular dystrophy.

Apparently, a “multi-state killing spree” is not a “victimless crime.” Also, remember to set aside more income for legal defense as these public defenders are bullshit.

Also complete bullshit: Dear Abby’s legal advice.

Your scuffle with two African-American youths at the nightclub was probably not the “tipping point” in American race relations. So you can probably stop writing angry letters to the editors of Jet Magazine.

Lefty knew what he was talking about. Don’t stick your hand in there.

“It’s going to get a whole lot worse before it gets any better” has been describing way too many life events lately.

You don’t have to publish every half-ass idea you have.

-CLT

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Taking the Easy Way Out: 10 Songs for Your Suicide Soundtrack

August 10, 2010
[This is the first of what may become many archive pulls, in an effort to keep the blog alive while its authors attend to life elsewhere. First published on 02/06/09.]

So you’ve got it all lined up. Time to show the world what it would be like without you. But you need a finishing touch, something to add a shiny rustproofing layer of depth to your most self-centered act yet.

The perfectly chosen song can tell the (cruel) world about your inner pain in ways that a handwritten note riddled with grammatical errors cannot. It will serve as your voice beyond the grave, communicating your essence with a few simple chords and well-chosen words.

With these choices available, you can elevate your simple “cry for help/attention” into an event of histrionic proportions, allowing you to be remembered as something other than “the guy who misspelled ‘cruel.'”

Remember, suicide is a victimless crime, like prostitution, drug use, cheating on your taxes or punching a mime.

The time has come. Push play. Do something nice for yourself.

1. Jesus & Mary Chain – Drop

jamc

This tiny gem of a downer is found nearly at the end of Automatic, in which their drummer was replaced with a more sober and less expensive drum machine. Original drummer Bobby Gillespie was kicked out after repeated requests to play “some of the songs I wrote.” They refused, shoved their guitars thru their amps and told him to “go start his own bloody band.” Thus, Primal Scream was formed and remains somewhat relevant today, unlike the brothers Reid. This quieter number shows off their mediocre acoustic guitar skills to marginal effect.

Key Lyric:

I should have guessed
When I took that pill
Do I love her still
Well did Jesus kill

Method: Gunshot to head at “kill,” thus laying the blame elsewhere. Further distance can be added if death is ruled accidental, i.e. “subject was reported to be cleaning the gun. With his tongue.”

2. Spiritualized – Medication

spir2Rising from the ashes of Spacemen 3 like a smack-soaked phoenix, Spiritualized expanded the blueprint for hazy space rock with the addition of horns, backup choirs and another chord or two. As usual, the lyrics of Jason Pierce (aka J. Spaceman; Jason Bourne) tend to be elliptical and function best as a comedown from a hedonistic night of regret and misplaced nostalgia. Can also be used as a heroin analogue if no actual heroin is available. (Bonus fact: early pressings of Spiritualized albums are considered controlled substances by the DEA.)

Key Lyric:

I’m waiting for a time
When I can be without
These things that make me feel
This way all of the time

Method: Heroin OD at peak. The song kind of comes and goes (much like you’ll be doing), but at 7 minutes and change, you should have time to determine which peak works for you. (Hint: wait for the brass section).

3. Mogwai – Cody

Key figures of the post-rock movement, Mogwai are known for their lengthy instrumentals and unintelligible Glaswegian accents. They have achieved a small amount of success in the States playing before mid-sized audiences composed solely of rock critics, rock bloggers and others who feel lyrics are “giving away the store” when it comes to interpreting music. This particular track features their trademark dynamic shifts and tons of post.

Key Lyric:

It’s an instrumental so you may be forced to do some empathetic humming.

Method: Fistfuls of painkillers and whatever else may be in the parent’s medicine cabinet (caution: “whatever” may contain dangerous levels of estrogen.) Fade slowly away from life, allowing your soul to don Levi’s jeans and run free thru a buffalo-overrun cityscape.

4. Joy Division – In a Lonely Place

joy_divisionThis cheerful group formed during the heyday of punk in Manchester, England. They began as a local blues cover band before sacking Pete Best and replacing him with Steven Morris, who brought a  metronome-like precision to the group. As the band moved on following lead singer Ian Curtis’ suicide, Steven Morris was replaced by a drum machine, who brought a metronome-like precision to the group. This selection, often a popular request at the beer tent, shows a darker side of these fun-loving Mancunians.

Key Lyric:

Hangman looks round as he waits
Cord stretches tight then it breaks
Someday we will die in your dreams
How I wish we were here with you now

Method: Form a suicide pact with three others; be the only one that follows thru, as the rest go on to live increasingly irrelevant lives.

5. m83 – Lower Your Eyelids to Die with the Sun

m83A long, slow-building atmospheric track from French electronic shoegazers, m83. They have gained notoriety on the music festival circuit for their amazing live shows and their ability to spot trainer brand names from upwards of 300 feet. They often sound like a combination of My Bloody Valentine, House of Love and m83. Mostly, though, they sound like m83.

Key Lyric:

Instrumental. Try blinking rhythmically.

Method: Razors, candles, bathtub. Toss powered Korg into tub at 9 minute mark. (The song runs around 11 minutes, so pace yourself. Drink plenty of water.)

6. Dashboard Confessional – Any Song

The story of Chris Carraba and his project, Dashboard Confessional, is a long and uninteresting one. Suffice to stay, Chris sensed a void in the sensitive stud area, wrote some introspective tunes, grabbed his acoustic guitar and sideburns and the rest is history. Or would be, if he would just stop touring and putting out albums. We can only hope. Unfortunately, as long as there is a few thousand people willing to believe each song, produced for mass consumption, speaks to them (and only them), the brand (er, band) will go on. (See also the Cure; the Depeche Mode.)

Key Lyric:

I’m sure they’re all pretty introspective. Take your pick. I’m sure as a fan of the emo scene, you should have no trouble twisting someone else’s personal experience to fit your own. If nothing else, we can thank the emo scene for giving the world a new breed of slightly slimmer goths.

Method: Well, I’m sure you’ve all been practicing already. Just try to hit a major artery this time.

7. Suicide – Frankie Teardrop

suicide1977No group says Suicide like Suicide. Martin Rev and Alan Vega formed their confrontational and controversial band after stumbling across a large stash of amphetamines. They wanted the “least commercial name ever” for their band, but had to settle on their third choice after discovering Rectal Exam Bot and Wilson Philips had already been trademarked. This number was a staple of their confrontational live shows and often lead to death of at least one audience member. Their bleak nihilism and mastery of one key on the keyboards has been highly influential and echoes of their groundbreaking work can be seen in bands as diverse as We Are Wolves, Cabaret Voltaire and Raffi.

Key Lyric:

Frankie teardrop
Frankie put the gun to his head
Frankie’s dead

Method: Fail to adjust to civilian life/fail to adjust to Russian Roulette. (First, not any gun works. You should get a revolver) Note: if leaving the CD out at the “scene,” be aware that some may think you were just trying to leave a caption.

8. Staind – It’s Been Awhile

nurockFeaturing a lead singer who combined the good looks of Billy Zane with the trim figure of Black Francis, Staind brought out a more sensitive side of the nu (aka mook) rock era. This weeper brought them to the top of the charts briefly, before the one-two punch of an overlooked misspelling and Fred Durst’s general unpleasantness brought them crashing to earth. Think of them as a meatier Dave Matthews with fewer sandals and more Red Bull. Where are they now? According to their website, they are in the middle of recording something or other. I really can’t be bothered to do any fact-checking on this.

Key Lyric:

And it’s been awhile, since I can say that I wasn’t addicted
And it’s been awhile, since I can say I love myself as well
And it’s been awhile, since I’ve gone and fucked things up just like I always do
And it’s been awhile, but all that shit seems to disappear when I’m with you

Method: Trying to show your “sensitive side” backfires as you get trolled to death by the infamous /b/. Perhaps those 320×240 Mavica shots didn’t capture the “real you.” Whatever. (Note: Cameras that use floppies for storage cannot support the resolution need to capture inner beauty.)

9. Clubfeet – Teenage Suicide

clubfeetClubfeet bring the best of both worlds with this toe-tapping dirge, bursting with self-awareness, irony and that emotion I understand is called ennui. If you’re on the verge of ending your world with some banging and whimpering and you find yourself dancing along, please reconsider. If you can’t take this seriously, you’ll find yourself perhaps maimed or disfigured, rather than good and dead.

Key Lyric:

Teenage suicide (don’t do it)

Method: Autoerotic asphyxiation, using some amyl nitrate and the Sears catalog lingerie section for stimulants.
(Will the world appreciate your finely honed ironic sledgehammer? Probably not. More likely, your eulogy will will go something like this: “<Insert name here> will always be remembered for his relentless negativity, his uncanny knack for ‘harshing your mellow,’ and, of course, his inability to follow simple instructions.”)

10. Radiohead – Fitter Happier

fitterhappierRadiohead burst onto the scene with “Creep,” a singalong of self-loathing backed by a thunderous chorus of guitar distortion. Much later, TLC paid their dues with a cover. Much, much, much later, Prince did the same at Coachella. In the meantime, the Radioheads experimented with different forms of music and free downloads, much to the dismay of their label. They also scored movies, released solo work and convinced Tom York to drop the extraneous letters from his name. As their thirst for reinvention has not been quenched, look for upcoming work to reflect their broadening horizons, including four nights at the Sands in Las Vegas, Jonny Greenwood’s collaboration with Visanthe Shiancoe and Paul Thomas Anderson for a re-scored and re-shot “Boogie Nights” and the remaining band members waiting patiently at home for the phone to ring.

Key Lyric:

Calm
Fitter, healthier and more productive
A pig
In a cage
On antibiotics

Method: School shooting/turn gun on self. Ignore requests for “Doom music”/mercy.

This list is by no means definitive, but it should give you some inspiration for your grand finale. The shockwaves of your last act should reverberate through the halls of your respective schools/workplaces as your fellow students/coworkers enjoy an unexpected day off. They may even struggle to remember some defining anecdote to sum up your entire existence. Bad poetry will probably be involved.

-CLT