Thursday, July 31, 2008

Al Gore Places Infant Son In Rocket To Escape Dying Planet


Young Gore sets out for his new home, where the sky is clear, the water is clean, and there are no Republicans.


EARTH—Former vice president Al Gore—who for the past three decades has unsuccessfully attempted to warn humanity of the coming destruction of our planet, only to be mocked and derided by the very people he has tried to save—launched his infant son into space Monday in the faint hope that his only child would reach the safety of another world.

"I tried to warn them, but the Elders of this planet would not listen," said Gore, who in 2000 was nearly banished to a featureless realm of nonexistence for promoting his unpopular message. "They called me foolish and laughed at my predictions. Yet even now, the Midwest is flooded, the ice caps are melting, and the cities are rocked with tremors, just as I foretold. Fools! Why didn't they heed me before it was too late?"

Al Gore—or, as he is known in his own language, Gore-Al—placed his son, Kal-Al, gently in the one-passenger rocket ship, his brow furrowed by the great weight he carried in preserving the sole survivor of humanity's hubristic folly.

"There is nothing left now but to ensure that my infant son does not meet the same fate as the rest of my doomed race," Gore said. "I will send him to a new planet, where he will, I hope, be raised by simple but kindly country folk and grow up to be a hero and protector to his adopted home."

As the rocket soared through the Gore estate's retractable solar-paneled roof—installed three years ago to save energy and provide emergency rocket-launch capability in the event that Gore's campaign to save Earth was unsuccessful—the onetime presidential candidate and his wife, Tipper, stood arm-in-arm, nobly facing their end while gazing up in stoic dignity at the receding rocket, the ecosystem already beginning to collapse around them.

In the final moments before the Earth's destruction, Gore expressed hope that his son would one day grow up to carry on his mission by fighting for truth, justice, and the American way elsewhere in the universe, using his Earth-given superpowers to become a champion of the downtrodden and a reducer of carbon emissions across the galaxy.

"Perhaps he will succeed where I have failed," Gore said.

Despite the child's humble beginnings, experts predict the intergalactic journey may have some extraordinary effects on Kal-Al's physique, eyesight, and, potentially, his powers of quiet, sensible persuasion.

"On his new planet, Kal-Al's Earth physiology will react to the radiation of a differently colored sun, causing him to develop abilities far beyond those of mortal men," political analyst Sig Schuster said. "He will be faster than a speeding Prius, stronger than the existing Superfund program, and able to leap mountains of red tape in a single bound. These superpowers will sustain him in his never-ending battle against conservatives, wealthy industrialists, and other environmental supervillains."

Although Gore and his wife voiced regrets that they could not accompany their son on his journey, they tried their best to equip Kal-Al for life on his new planet, providing the infant with a Keynote slide-show presentation of all human knowledge, a self-growing crystal fortress from which to monitor glacier shrinkage, and a copy of Al Gore's 1992 bestseller, Earth In The Balance.

The baby was also wrapped in a blanket emblazoned with the Gore family crest, which, because it is made of Earth materials, will be invulnerable on the new planet. It is hoped that one day it will be fashioned into a colorful costume for the boy to wear while fighting wrongdoers.

"In brightly hued tights, it will be harder for people there to ignore him when he takes on his new planet's lobbyists, auto manufacturers, and enemies of justice," Schuster said. "A bold and eye-catching unitard will give Kal-Al, last son of Earth, a formidable tool for protecting his new planet, a power more awesome than any his father could have dreamed of: the power of charisma."

- The Onion

Monday, July 28, 2008

Misinformed

I just got the following e-mail from a good friend:

Hello everyone,
As you know I am not a very political person. I just wanted to pass along that Senator Obama came to Bagram Afghanistan for about an hour on his visit to 'The War Zone'. I wanted to share with you what happened. He got off the plane and got into a bullet proof vehicle, got to the area to meet with the Major General (2 Star) who is the commander here at Bagram.

As the Soldiers where lined up to shake his hand he blew them off and didn't say a word as he went into the conference room to meet the General. As he finished, the vehicles took him to the ClamShell (pretty much a big top tent that military personnel can play basketball or work out in with weights) so he could take his publicity pictures playing basketball. He again shunned the opportunity to talk to Soldiers to thank them for their service.

So really he was just here to make a showing for the American's back home that he is their candidate for President. I think that if you are going to make an effort to come all the way over here you would thank those that are providing the freedom that they are providing for you.

I swear we got more thanks from the NBA Basketball Players or the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders than from one of the Senators, who wants to be the President of the United States. I just don't understand how anyone would want him to be our Commander-and-Chief. It was almost that he was scared to be around those that provide the freedom for him and our great country.

If this is blunt and to the point I am sorry but I wanted you all to know what kind of caliber of person he really is. What you see in the news is all fake.

In service,
CPT Jeffrey S. Porter Battle Captain TF Wasatch American Soldier


The e-mail had obviously been forwarded several times and people had added statements like "FYI - This is a local person"; "This comes from two of my trusted and dearest friends so I am considering it accurate"; and "I thought this was very interesting and am taking the opportunity to pass this on to you in hopes you will continue to forward this on to people you know. This stuff makes me crazy!"

I quickly went to snopes.com (here's a link) and found out that the incident was not only mis-reported but had been retracted by CPT Porter. Additionally, Snopes received letters from several other soldiers giving opposing accounts, and the Department of Defense concurred. Regarding this e-mail, I think the third comment above said it best: "This stuff makes me crazy!"

Why, in this election year, are we so inclined to believe a third or fourth generation e-mail (from someone we've never met) maligning the character of the man who could well be the next President of the United States, yet we won't take the just a moment to research the truth? What gets me is that this is the kind of crap that so many "thoughtful conservatives" I know readily eat up. It's as if they're grasping for a reason not to vote for the Democrat. "I'd totally vote for him but oooh...he hates the troops...his middle name is Hussein...Obama rhymes with Osama..." Seriously, what the hell? These arguments are every bit as ridiculous as all the age jokes that we hear about McCain. But does this have ANYTHING to do with foreign policy? The economy? Immigration? The energy crisis? Civil Rights? Global warming? The country's dependence on imported oil? NO. Nothing whatsoever.

These idiotic attacks are played to the lowest common denominator. The authors assume that we, as Americans, are incapable of analyzing the issues and making an informed decision based on a candidate's positions, so we need little "swiftboat" jabs to help us elect the candidate their candidate. What's most infuriating about the whole thing is that we play right into it! When we blindly buy into this kind of baloney, we BECOME the lowest common denominator.

No wonder Will was voted off So You Think You Can Dance last week. We're a country of sheep...willing to eat anything that gets dumped in our laps, no matter how repugnant. Yeah, I'm embarrassed for us all.

Friday, July 25, 2008

Personals

Recently I've become fascinated by the random anonymous dating ads people put online. The internet is a truly remarkable and frightening thing. With all the whack-jobs out there, one has to wonder what percentage of online personals are actually fiction. That's scary. And it got me to thinking. What purpose would a fictitious online personals ad serve? Definitely not to attract someone you're actually going to meet, because the fiction would be obvious at first sight. So what could possibly be accomplished? Nothing good, as far as I can tell. Until now. I think I'm going to start a new brand of fiction. When you go into a library and get a novel off the shelf, you know it's a work of fiction. You check it out because you hope it's an entertaining read. Well, I've decided that personals are the new frontier for fiction, and as such here is my first entry into the world of professional personals fiction:

One-legged former hooker seeks balance in her life. Would like to meet cute midget for the kind of uplifting support I've been lacking since the accident. Please be understanding.

On the one-week anniversary of my last blog post...

I just wanted to share this thought with you:

"I wanted to be bulimic, but I have no gag reflex. Either you're skinny or you give good head."
- Jay Brannan

(watch with caution...)

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

I Like Lists

Perusing my previous posts, I just noticed that a full third involve some kind of numbered list.  If you take out the short posts, that number jumps to nearly half.  That got me thinking.  In everyday conversation we tend to fall into certain patterns of speech.  Stephen Sondheim said that he doesn't compose at the piano because he has that same tendency in his playing and he didn't want it to influence his composing.  And I'm the same way with writing.  I love ellipses... (see?)  And parenthetical expressions.  Maybe it's because my brain is a murky forest with divergent cris-crossing paths and I don't have the patience to stay on one till the point is made.

Oh well...

In honor of my literary crutches, here are three lists Kevin e-mailed to me:

THINGS THAT ARE DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:

  1. Innovative
  2. Preliminary
  3. Proliferation
  4. Cinnamon

 

THINGS THAT ARE VERY DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:

  1. Specificity
  2. Anti-constitutional
  3. Passive-aggressive disorder
  4. Transubstantiate

 

THINGS THAT ARE DOWNRIGHT IMPOSSIBLE TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:

  1. No thanks, I'm married.
  2. I must be going home now, as I have to work in the morning.
  3. Sorry, but you're not really my type.
  4. Taco Bell? No thanks, I'm not hungry.
  5. Good evening, officer. Isn't it lovely out tonight?
  6. Oh, I couldn't! No one wants to hear me sing karaoke.
  7. I'm not interested in fighting you.
  8. Thank you, but I won't make any attempt to dance, I have no coordination. I'd hate to look like a fool!
  9. Where is the nearest bathroom? I refuse to pee in this parking lot or on the side of the road.
  10. Nope, no more booze for me! 

Unconditional

unconditional - Not limited by or subject to conditions or stipulations; absolute, unlimited, complete. (Oxford English Dictionary)

The word unconditional has been on my mind for quite a while. As I looked at the historical citations in the OED, I realized almost all of them dealt with unconditional surrender. In LDS culture, "unconditional" is often used to describe the love God bears for his children, and by the same token, the love that his children should aspire to bear for one another. Love that is "not limited by or subject to conditions or stipulations." Love that is "absolute, unlimited, complete." Unconditional.

I've been debating whether unconditional love is a good thing or not and I've decided that it is, but that discussion is going to have to be the subject of another post because this post is already gonna be a doosy. So let's just say that unconditional love is a good thing--something that if everybody aspired to live their lives so as to make themselves purveyors of unconditional love, the world would be a mighty fine place.

So where does the idea "Love the sinner, hate the sin" come into play? Is this even possible within the concept of unconditional love? The vocal opposition to gay rights would say yes, brandishing "Love the sinner, hate the sin" like a weapon. I was browsing the facebook forums on same-sex marriage the other day. With the California ballot initiative to amend the state constitution coming up in November, and the LDS Church's vocal support of that amendment, these kind of message boards have been pretty active lately.

The Exodus International group "Marriage=Man+Woman" defines their positions as:
  1. marriage is meant to be between a man and a woman.
  2. to be loving to homosexuals.
(fyi - Exodus International is Christian-affiliated ministry that purports to cure homosexuality. For an opposing viewpoint on the ex-gay movement click here.)

The "Abolish Gay Marriage" facebook group was a little more articulate:
  1. Gay marriage and homosexuality are both morally wrong and dishonoring to God.
  2. God loves both gay and straight people, and love should be shown to both parties
Most others made similar "Love the sinner, hate the sin" mission statements. I think there's a profound dissonance in that kind of philosophy. On the surface a statement like that says "I love you no matter what. I may not like what you do, but that doesn't affect my love for you." How touching. And how thoughtful. To proclaim your perfect capacity to love someone as wretched as me. In this context, the phrase creates a hierarchy that puts one person in a place of condescension in their love. And love peppered with condescension isn't love.

Ironically, the phrase "Hate the sin, love the sinner" was coined not by a Christian, but by Gandhi. And it's quite telling that his life was devoted to acts of love and peace. The problem with living by "Love the sinner, hate the sin" is that according to Christian theology, we're all sinners. Maybe Gandhi's idea was more "avoid the stuff you see as sinful if you must, but love everyone without reservation." Plus Jesus taught unequivocally against passing judgment. So it's not my job to point out your sins, it's my job to love you. Period. If I'm focusing on what I see as your imperfections, how can I love you without reservation?

So what's the solution? How do people on opposite sides of an argument come together in a place of love without sacrificing their values? I'm not sure there's an easy answer. But I do know that Jesus taught, "Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you." If the people who hurt us with words, feelings, and actions are deserving of our love, then how can we begrudge that love to someone who simply believes differently and chooses to live "according to the dictates of their own conscience"?

Can Californians pass a measure that excludes one group from civic rights? They might. It's been done recently in other states, despite the fact that the group was already excluded from those rights. And similar things have been done to other groups throughout history. Is it right? Depends on who you ask. But to me this does sound like a huge case of "Love the sinner, legislate against the sin." And in a civic dialogue where the scientific community has already weighed in, debunking the "sin", this kind of legislation is nothing more than state-sponsored religion. The last time I read the first amendment to the constitution, "law[s] respecting an establishment of religion" aren't acceptable in this country.

So what should the country do? Well, if marriage is a religious institution, then the government needs to get out of it. Completely. Strip away the federal recognition, the tax benefits, the contractual implications, everything. Leave the practice and execution of marriage to the churches. On the other hand, if marriage is a civil institution, the government needs to make it available equally to everyone, without regard to race, religion, gender, sexual orientation or any other demographic*.

Personally, I think it's both. So, for the churches who love the gays but hate the gays getting married, let them join only heterosexual couples, exercising their religion as they see fit. For the other churches (and the couples who choose not to join their lives under the auspices of a church), let them get hitched "according to the dictates of their own conscience." But give them all the same civil rights. There you are. The Mormons don't have to marry same-sex couples in their temples any more than they have to allow smoking in their chapels. And the gay people don't have to go to a Mormon temple to get married. And we can all be happy and treat each other with the love and respect we all deserve! Yay!

Ugh. I'm tired. This has been less of a lesson in love and more of a tirade than I had intended. One thing I do think I need to mention before I pass out: the door swings both ways. Members of the gay community are kinda used to being picked on, and the natural tendency is knee-jerk reciprocation. I think this is profoundly counterproductive. If I can't allow someone their belief system, no matter how wrong I think they are, then I can't expect them to allow me mine. See? It all comes back to unconditional love. I've learned that my parents' idiosyncrasies are integral parts of the people I love. And without their nutty political views...the ones that drive me bonkers...they wouldn't be the same people--the people I love. So whatever their "sins," I can't help but love the "sinners" in their entirety, because they wouldn't be the "sinners" I love without those "sins."

Alright...I'm off. Nighty night.


* Not that this really needs mentioning, but no, this doesn't apply to minors, animals, or any other group of non-adults that legally can't enter into contracts. The "Gay marriage leads to child marriage/pet marriage/house plant marriage" arguments are idiotic and a colossal waste of time to anyone with an ounce of common sense. Additionally, the argument that "gays CAN get married...just to members of the opposite sex like everyone else, ergo everybody has equal access to the institution" is trite, flippant, irrational, completely contrary to current understanding of the purpose of marriage, and really not worth further exploration here.

Monday, July 14, 2008

Missionary (im)Position

I just caught this on the news last night and don't quite know how to react. Apparently some fella in Las Vegas (Chad Hardy) was just excommunicated from the LDS Church for publishing a calendar of shirtless returned missionaries.

Here's a link to the AP article.

I checked out the website and the poses seemed modest enough, but I can understand why the church wouldn't want to be associated with it. Calendars like that are clearly designed to titillate. The website (mormonsexposed.com) also featured some hilarious tongue-in-cheek t-shirts. Even funnier, they named the colors each t-shirt came in. (Brigham Blue, Dutch Oven Brown, Fireside Orange, We don't drink Coffee...)

So...mormonsexposed.com...is that "Mormons Exposed" or "Mormon Sex Posed"? And more importantly, did the news coverage prompt such an influx of curiosity that the website crashed? I checked it out last night and it was sluggish...this morning, the site was down. Wrath of God, perhaps? Or has the media coverage created a widespread missionary fetish?

So are the guys really returned missionaries, or did they hire a bunch of models and make up stories to go along with their profiles? One could probably dismiss the calendar as good-natured fun if the former is true, and based on the website, it appears that it is. But if they just hired models and fabricated mission backgrounds, as benign as the pictures may be, someone's crossed a line. While I completely support people's right to expression, holding someone else's values up for public ridicule is unconscionable. Very poor taste.

Still, how can anybody really know Hardy's intent? I seriously doubt it was to ridicule the LDS Church and its values. At the same time, it does seem an odd vehicle for self expression. Ultimately, I think this is simply a case of another businessperson who has identified a product that will sell. There's obviously a market, and I don't really see the harm. Chad Hardy doesn't claim to be publishing it under the auspices of the church, and the church has distanced itself from the project by excommunicating him. In a happier note, it appears that a portion of the calendar sales is going to charity. I sincerely hope so.

One final thought: in my twenty-five months in North Carolina as a missionary, I saw quite a few shirtless elders. Few looked like the boys in the calendar. Granted there are a lot of pretty missionaries, but there are a lot of pretty-average ones too. And as the elders are notorious for their eating abilities, maybe THAT would make a good (or at least accurate) calendar. Men on a Mission II: Suppertime.

Sunday, July 13, 2008

TiVo Rocks

This weekend I figured out how to move computer files from my computer to the TiVo box. Yeah, TiVo does everything! Now I can watch my...um...various downloads of...um...stuff*...on my television!

* Television shows! Not porn, you perv. Sheesh.

If a tree falls in the woods...

...and it lands on a blogger whose blog nobody reads, does that blog exist?

I was just thinking about the concept of blogging. It's like leaving your diary on the coffee table (next to the Broadway Bares book). I've never been good at journaling. Actually, I have four or five journals from years ago when I thought I should keep a journal. Each of them begins with thoughtful entries, covering as much as a month or two of my life...usually less. And the rest of each journal is blank. Five to ten pages of insight into who I am on paper (not really who I am, but who I'm willing to be for future generations...snort), followed by a hundred blank pages.

Interestingly, I wouldn't let anyone read the five good pages, much less a journal with REAL insight. And I think most real journalers are (were) the same way. Then came the blogs. Now everybody has a blog. People pour their innermost thoughts, feelings, ambitions, fears into these very public forums. And the funny thing is that NOBODY READS THEM! I could put my journal on the coffee table next to the Broadway Bares book, but who in their right mind is gonna choose the journal over the big book with cool pictures? Seriously.

Friday, July 11, 2008

Reality (TV) Bites

Thayne was eliminated from So You Think You Can Dance last night. I think I'm gonna skip all the thoughts about bad partnering, the luck of the draw, strange camera work, popular taste, and so forth.

It does occur to me that competitions are, by nature, unfair. They're designed to be Darwinism at its purest. Survival of the fittest...natural selection...someone has to rise above everyone else, be the top of the food chain. Unfortunately, the "fittest" doesn't always mean the best...it may mean the luckiest at a specific moment. If the lioness stubs her toe and the wildebeest blindsides her while she's distracted, that doesn't mean wildebeests are better hunters. This one just got lucky.

So why do we watch? I can think of two reasons.
  1. We love a good Cinderella story. At the beginning of the American Idol competition, some average schmuck with a life no better than ours gets a lucky break. By the end, they're a star. I think we all want to experience that kind of transcendence. By watching (and participating with our votes) we get a vicarious thrill.
  2. Blood sport. We like to think that we've evolved from the days the Romans threw the Christians to the lions. But then, why is professional boxing one of the highest priced pay-per-view offerings? Football, Hockey, shows like American Gladiators and "professional" wrestling...they're all about watching a person/team decimate (clobber, humiliate, whatever) their competition. Beauty pageants, televised dance competitions, awards programs...all of these also feed into our need to rank things. This movie is more valuable than that one, let's give it an award. This seven-year-old girl is prettier than that one... It's kind of obscene. If ten Broadway musicals open in a year, that's a pretty remarkable thing. If half of them are actually good, even better. Still, only one will win the Tony Award for Best Musical. And somebody thought each was worthwhile enough to invest millions of dollars in a production. So if only one wins, does that make it the best? Not necessarily. Does that make it the most popular? Sometimes, but again, not necessarily. In the end, the winner of the competition gets the fame and glory and the "losers" get the consolation prizes...and life goes on. Hopefully the runners up keep plugging away and doing what they love--with or without the spotlight.
I guess I'm glad Thayne's been in the bottom three couples the past few weeks. It's given him several opportunities to do what he does best--just dance. The solos were breathtaking. Last night's had me in tears. And, though it was obvious from the outset, the judges' comments made it clear that he has a real future. Best of luck to him.

So does the whole competition matter? Naw. But that's what we all say when our favorite gets sent home. And really, while the outcome doesn't necessarily reflect an accurate hierarchy, for the participants, the show itself does matter. Every one of the contestants gets a chance to be seen. Hopefully each of them takes that gift and uses it to keep following their dreams.

Besides, I'm too old for all the pressure. It'll be nice to watch now without the emotional investment.

One last parting shot:


P.S. To quote [title of show]: "I'd rather be nine people's favorite thing than a hundred people's ninth favorite thing."

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Adult content?

I just realized that the [title of show] post has language, the Broadway Bares post has nudity, and the Florence Henderson post has...well...everything else. I think I'm officially writing an "adult" blog. Sweet! I'm totally turning on the content warning.

Die Vampire, Die!

In honor of the opening of [title of show] on Broadway, I've been listening to the off-broadway recording of the show the last couple of days. I must say, this song always gets me.

DIE VAMPIRE, DIE!
from [title of show] - a new broadway musical
music & lyrics: Jeff Bowen
book: Hunter Bell
(additional material by Susan Blackwell)

Susan:
There are some people in the world who say that writing stories, or composing music or dancing sparkly dances is easy for them. Nothing interferes with their ability to create. While I celebrate their creative freedom, a little part of me wants to punch those motherfuckers in the teeth. This song, I sing this song for you guys and for all the rest of us. Help me out y’all

Jeff, Hunter, and Heidi:
We’ll sing backup

Susan:
You have a story to tell,
a novel you keep in a drawer.

Backup:
Old sock drawer!

Susan:
You have a painting to paint,
but you lazy like an old French whore.

Backup:
Je suis whore

Susan:
You have a movie to make,
Shrinky Dinks you can bake
but you best grab a stake,
cause, in sweep the vampires,
in creep the vampires,
knee deep in vampires,
Filling you with doubt. Insecurity,
‘bout what you art should be
in sweep the vampires

All:
Die vampire!

Susan:
You sketched that turtle you saw
in an ad on late-night cable TV.

Backup:
Tippy Turtle!

Susan:
But your fourth grade teacher said

Heidi:
You can’t draw

Susan:
Aww, those vampires just won’t let you be

Boys:
Fuck you Ms. Johnson! Word.

Susan:
And when they come run like hell,
see those bats in your belfry,
then call on Van Helsing.
In swoosh

Backup:
Ooh, the vampires

Susan:
in a whoosh

Backup:
ooh, the vampires,

Susan:
Babaganoosh

Backup:
ooh, all the vampires

Susan:
Filling you with thoughts of

Backup:
Self consciousness

Susan:
Feelings of

Backup:
Worthlessness

Susan:
They’ll make you

Backup:
Second guess

Susan:
Die vam-

All:
-pire!
There are so many vampires,
inside, outside, and nationwide,
it helps to recognize them
with this vampire hunting guide!

Susan:
Listen closely, a vampire is any person or thought or feeling that stands between you and your creative self expression, but they can assume many seductive forms. Here’s a few of them!

Backup:
Tell us Susan!

Susan:
First up are you pygmy vampires. They’ll swarm around you head like gnats and say things like:

Hunter:
Your teeth need whitening

Heidi:
You went to state school?

Jeff:
You sound weird

All:
Shakespeare, Sondheim, Sedaris

Susan:
Did it before you and better than you. Or they might say that you cannot sing good enough to be in a musical. Or they might say:

Backup:
Ooh, your song’s derivative!
Ooh, your song’s derivative!
Ooh, your song’s derivative!

Susan:
To keep that song from you! Just tell them:

Backup:
Die vampire, die!

Susan:
Brothers and sisters, next up is the air freshener vampire. She might look like you mama, or your old fat-ass, fat aunt Fanny. She smells something unpleasant in what you’re creating, she’ll urge you to:

Backup:
(Spraying sound)

Susan:
It with some pine fresh smell-'em-ups. The air freshener vampire doesn’t want you to write about

Jeff:
bad language,

Hunter:
blood,

Heidi:
or blow jobs

Susan:
She wants you to clean it up and clean it out. Which will leave your work toothless, gutless, and crotchless. But you’ll be left with two tight paragraphs on kittens that your grandma would be so proud of. You look at that air freshener vampire in her fat ass, fat old fuckin’ face and you say

All:
Morte vampir, morte!

Susan:
The last vampire is the mother of all vampires and that is the vampire of despair. It’ll wake you up at 4am to say things like:

Jeff:
Who do you think you’re kidding?

Heidi:
You look like a fool.

Hunter:
No matter how hard you try, you’ll never be good enough.

Susan:
Why is it if some dude walked up to me on the subway platform and said these things I’d think he was a mentally ill asshole, but if the vampire inside my head says it, it’s the voice of reason?

Hunter:
You have a story to tell,
pull your novel out of that sock drawer!

Heidi:
You have a painting to paint,
you best paint it and then paint some more!

Susan:
Oh baby, you must escape
and grab it by the nape
of its neck,
by the trachea!
Fuckin’ break it,
go on drive a stake in.
Yeah there’s no mistaking,
now you’re shake and bakin’!

All:
Die, vampire!
I said, “Die, vampire!”
I said, “Now die vampire, die!”

All:
In fly the vampires,
oh my the vampires,
then die the vampires,
filling you with life, creativity,
all that you heart should be,
out go the vampires.
Die vampire!
Die vampire!
Die vampire, die!




Wednesday, July 9, 2008

So disappointed...

Every year, Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS does a big show called "Broadway Bares." Yeah, I probably don't need to go into details, but every year they put out a calendar. Anyway, the event was last month...I checked the website...no mention of a calendar. Sigh...

What to do?

I suppose I could go to despair.com and get another calendar there, but they don't use pictures of scantily clad Broadway actors in their Demotivators. Most likely that wouldn't be demotivational enough.

Interestingly, Jerry Mitchell (creator of Broadway Bares) has "authored" an overpriced coffee table book about the event.

From www.broadwaycares.org:
BACKSTAGE PASS is the photographic chronicle of how one bright young man in a loincloth, dancing atop a giant drum on a Broadway stage, began one of the Great White Way’s most worthy and exciting traditions! Future Tony®-winner Jerry Mitchell was amazed at the tremendous attention his nearly naked body garnered in Tommy Tune’s production of The Will Rogers Follies in 1990. He quickly capitalized on this fascination with exposed skin to raise funds for Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS (BC/EFA). Over the next 18 years, this “ah-ha” moment grew into the annual tradition that is Broadway Bares —an event where the most beautiful bodies of New York City’s theatre community take it all off and do what they do best—strut their stuff!

I guess it'll have to do. Now I need a coffee table.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

My best friend...

...just said the following to me:
You're a bitch. You really are.
- Brandon's Best Friend
Now to the untrained eye, one might think that she's being vindictive or lashing out because of a terminal case of the crankies. Setting aside her mental well-being for a second, we should examine the context:
  1. I AM a bitch. Well, a man-bitch. If that's possible. (For an illustration, see my very first post below.)
  2. I created this blog at her request. Not to express myself, because I do that in the privacy of my own home without an audience, but because she made me do it. In fact, part of the reason I'm blogging right now is just to give her something to gripe about.
  3. In our relationship, "bitch" is a term of endearment. So, substituting the emotion for the word, the quote should read: "You're a fantastic human being, my reason for existing...pretty much as amazing as air...and not the fart kind of air...real honest-to-goodness clean breathable air...like the stuff you see being pumped into old people's nostrils. Yeah, you belong up an old lady's nose."
So it's pretty clear that I shouldn't be blogging. But why do I do it? Well, because if I don't, she'll shove me up an old lady's nose.

P.S. regarding the "mental state" discussion that we set aside a few moments ago...she is saner than you or I. And I'm not just saying that. I'm putting it in print. So it must be true. Although since she and I are the only ones who will likely ever read this blog, that poses an interesting conundrum. If she's saner than you and I, and she IS you, then she's saner than she is. OMG! That makes her sane to the power of sanity! Everybody run for your lives!

P.P.S. In case you were offended, before you lash out let me just say this:

Oh look! A puppy!

Oh Florence Henderson, I'll be good to mama...

a blog only does so much unless you freaking update it!!!!!

In case anyone was wondering...

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

First blog post

I'm soooooooooooo not a blogger.  But Lisa told me to, and I'm Lisa's bitch.  

Let the blogging begin.