Posts Tagged ‘Twitter’

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The Stabbing Knife Vol. 3: Steve Dahl

November 18, 2009

Roberto prepares to "cut a bitch," Chicago-style.

The Stabbing Knife is back after a brief resting period. [Wait for applause to die down.]

We’ve stabbed before here on Fancy Pants. Here’s a very brief list of the previous victims, whose asinine remarks made their stab wounds mainly self-inflicted:
ASCAP
Garth Brooks

Things must have been going too well. All was quiet and rather orderly until this jackass decided to take his frustration with his dwindling career options to take a shit on the entire Internet.

Ladies and gentleman: Steve Dahl, noted radio personality and columnist for the Chicago Tribune.

Steve Dahl: all the fun of NA beer with twice the water retention.

So what’s his problem?

Apparently, he hates the fact that due to Twitter, blogs and comment threads, ordinary people are allowed to voice their opinion.

“These days, a person only needs a computer to spew opinion across a variety of platforms. Healthy doses of outrage and narcissism are also helpful.”

This is unfair to Steve, although it is difficult to tell why. He doesn’t hold a degree in journalism as one would expect, based on the self-righteous bullshit he’s spewing. Let’s read a little further and see what entitles him to his opinion but not us to ours:

“Don’t get me wrong. I am also an outraged narcissist, but I had to work six-hour shifts in Bakersfield, Calif., to earn my stripes as a communicator.”

Holy fucking shit! Six hours! The man’s an animal!

How does he do it?

Who here works more than 6 hours a day? Yeah, that’s pretty much everybody. However, since you don’t work in the hallowed halls of a dying format like radio or newspapers, your opinion means fuck-all.

He goes on to insert his massive foot farther into his massive mouth by calling CNN out for reading viewer Tweets:

“Nowadays, having a Twitter page qualifies a person to give commentary on CNN. I am not interested in the take of @stinky on the Fort Hood shootings or any other current events. I am watching CNN because I expect them to gather the news, not act as a clearinghouse for any bonehead with a computer, a cable modem and a half-baked opinion.”

So, boneheads: how’s that feel? A dinosaur of the cable news industry is recognizing the shifting playing field and trying to connect with their viewers. Sure, not every opinion is going to be mind-blowing gold, but at least they’re trying. As compared to Stevie here, whose sense of entitlement is currently going at his brain like an enraged tumor and devouring anything useful.

Steve’s not content to stop there. Here’s a swing at Facebook:

“With the advent of Twitter, Facebook, instant messaging and texting, now almost any fool can set up his or her broadcast hub.”

You hear that, fools? Your own broadcast hub! It’ll be like the heyday of pirate radio, only staffed with fools and boneheads!

This seems way, way more than hypocritical from a guy who admits to using Facebook and Twitter nearly constantly.

And, of course, he used it to send out photos of bikini-clad women whose pictures were taken unknowingly.

“I even started including bikini shots via Twitpic with my Tweets.”

Oh, and he has a blog.

For someone so connected with his readers, he sure knows how to marginalize them all in just a few paragraphs. This is why your average Internet user hates your average journalist. They all consider themselves to be better and more informed than the readers they cater to. But now there are too many options and rather than try to connect, they condescend.

Unfortunately, no one has any pity for all these small fish in a rapidly draining pond. No matter how much they splash around like big fish, they’ll still fit down the drain.

This is America, land of the running mouth. We all have opinions and we all like to state our case. For those who think a degree or a certain line of employment makes yours the only opinion that counts, prepare for a short lifespan of soul-sucking disappointment.

Your field has already been marginalized by the Internet, and all you can think to do is pour gasoline on your death pyre.

Of course, great thinking and open-mindedness is not to be expected from the “DJ-personality” who presided over one of the most celebrated public displays of racism and homophobia ever: Disco Demolition Night.

Well, it's no "God Hates Fags" but it does have a kickass lightning-y font...

So long, asshat. Enjoy the brief spike in readers from your troll-baiting bullshit.

From the blogosphere’s black heart, I stab at thee.

-CLT

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DJ AM: Today We Mourn a Non-Entity

September 1, 2009
The shiz that put Crazy Town on the map: DJ AM.

The shiz that put Crazy Town on the map: DJ AM.

[Tip of the hat to RF Interference who first informed me of DJ AM’spassing, and in turn, his existence by asking, “Are the pacifier brigade in mourning?” (Or words to that effect.) A further tip of the hat to Tannerleah over at Stop Annoying Me for bringing my annoyance with the past existence of DJ AM bubbling back to the surface.]

The world is suddenly abuzz with news of DJ AM’s overdose. “Who?” some of you are probably asking. “Whom?” others of you are asking, more properly and possibly with a British accent. I asked myself this same question.

As a follower of electronic music and DJs in general, even I hadn’t heard of him. Turns out I was travelling in the wrong circles. DJ AM was known best for his squiring of such luminous figures as Nicole Richie and Mandy Moore. A professional celebrity DJ.

Crazy Town signalled their craziness through various neck movements and refusal to line up single-file. Also, they had a DJ for no apparent reason.

Crazy Town signalled their craziness through various neck movements and refusal to line up single-file. Also, they had a DJ for no apparent reason.

Here’s a little more background on DJ AM:

DJ AM’s (a.k.a. Adam Goldstein) first tenuous claim to 15 minutes came as the “DJ” for “his” “band” Crazy Town, a band as edgy and threatening as a temporary tattoo. You may notice that I have multiple sets of quotation marks in the previous sentence. It’s no mistake. Let’s go ahead and diagram the hell out of it:

DJ” – Meaning AM was the jackass in the back, fiddling madly with the turntables and mugging for the camera during his allotted 10-20 seconds per music video. His contribution is unknown. Perhaps the “band” felt its street cred would rise above “lunch money donor” on the musical playground. All anyone asked of their DJs is that they stay in the back and shut the fuck up.

his” – Crazy Town wa no more his band than the Beatles were Pete Best’s. He was one of those added features that several bands of that era (Papa Roach, Limp Bizkit, etc.) deluded themselves into thinking was essential. So they all got a DJ and who’s heard anything from those turntablists recently? But nevertheless, there it was. Have band, need DJ. As de riguer as the loud-quiet-loud dynamic, faux-rapping and the “I’m singing from inside an old-timey radio” vocal effect.

band” – Crazy Town was a band in the sense that they all played instruments (except DJ AM) under one name as a somewhat cohesive unit. Much like Scary Movie 3is a film, in that it’s shot on film and played on a projector. Still no one’sgoing to confuse it with other films, like The Godfather or even Mobsters.

That’s the backstory.

On August 28th, DJ AM is found dead in his apartment of an apparent “accidental” overdose. The tweet goes out and is soon answered. Here’s a few of the fringe celebrities and would-be rock stars, who were among the first to max out their vocabularies, building deep thoughts out of 140-word sentences: Pete Wentz (Fall Out Boy), Paris Hilton, Perez Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, Mandy Moore, John Mayer, Ryan Seacrest, Jordin Sparks, P. Diddy.

Let’s take a peek at some of their incredible eulogies, presumably iPhoned in during a rigorous workout/massage/blowjob:

@johncmayer I really want to use words right now but I can’t get em.

THX, John. I really want to not beat you with your own guitar, but English is hard.

@solangeknowles I hope people don’t taint his legacy…..because there isn’t any concrete proof yet. That guy was a walking miracle.

Wonderful, whoever-the-fuck-you-are. He died of drugs surrounded by drug paraphernalia, so I’m guessing “concrete proof” is just an autopsy away (and there is one). Also, Jesus would like to inform you that miracles seldom include dying, at least not if you can’t shake it off in 3 days. Also, also: an ellipsis is three dots, not however the hell many you want. You’re working with a 140-character limit. Don’t use it all at once.

@BonnieFuller DJ AM DEAD & SO SAD! I wonder if the poor thing was suffering from survivor’s guilt after that terrible plane crash

Awesome. Thanks for the amateur diagnosis, BF. If this is “survivor’s guilt” then get a 24-hour suicide watch up at Travis Barker’s place. He “walked” away from that crash as well, and these things always come in three’s. (Someone find a third person to tie into this. I can’t have my pet theories continually crushed by your speeding Buick LeSabre of logic.)

These are the people whose lives he touched. Presumably. All of them bemoaning the “tragedy” and the “why god why” of a relatively young (36) starfucker cut down in his prime, by his own failure to do correct maths while drugging himself up.

Nowhere in this outpouring of shallowness is there a single twit (they liked to be called this) pointing out that suicide is the selfish chickenshit’s way out. Or that he was only batting .500 against life’s tough pitching, having failed to make a gun do the only thing it’s supposed to do in his first attempt. Or that he died committing a crime* and, therefore, deserves no more eulogizing that the thug who gets killed holding up a liquor store.

*We can debate the stupidity of the Drug War elsewhere, perhaps in the comment thread, but at this point, drug possession and use are illegal. And usually treated more seriously than liquor store holdups.

Unfortunately for DJ AM, the NCAA is posthumously stripping him of this key victory over the odds.

Unfortunately for DJ AM, the NCAA is posthumously stripping him of this key victory over the odds.

And now they’re going to do an autopsy? What the fuck for? Looks pretty open and shut to me. Lifelong drug abuser dies surrounded by drugs, having used his last moments to use drugs. Previous suicide attempt on the rap sheet.

Why? Can’t be the parents. Apparently, Daddy AM was an abusive asshole who is currently dead. Mommy AM sent him to rehab, so she may have a stake in this.

His friends? God help me, I really want to put the largest set of quotes ever made around that word. Friends. Nothing but a bunch of ready-made has-beens clinging to each other in the hopes that somehow they’ll matter, at least to themselves. The fuck do they care? They’ll move on. Their memories are as short as their careers and as lasting as their talent.

Maybe they’ll start a memorial fund, dropping cocaine-tainted $100’s into a lockbox from some teen rehab facility. Maybe not.

Is someone out there hoping the toxicology report will somehow turn the c-list sinner into a saint? A martyr for the privileged starfucker way of life? That he somehow OD’ed on “life”?

In a (very) brief memoriam, let’s take a look at DJ AM’s contribution to the music world:

  • Crazy Town – The Gift of Game
  • DJ AM & Travis Barker – Fix Your Face (Vol. 1)
  • DJ AM & Travis Barker – Fix Your Face (Vol. 2)

One album with a one-hit wonder and two compilation albums that were apparently released by his label, Street Corner Trunk Sales. No wonder he was beloved by fans of music and DJs alike.

R.I.P. DJ AM. The light that burns half as bright gets extinguished by the slightest breeze.

-CLT