Tuesday, July 24, 2007

World of Wonder: A Thrilla' in Manilla

This is freaking amazing: Approximately 1,500 Filipino prisoners in orange jump suits re-enact the zombie dance from Michael Jackson's Thriller video. Points for not stabbing each other during rehearsals. Bonus points for the balding tranny as the "girlfriend in jeopardy."

Hat tip: Defamer.

Friday, July 20, 2007


Another Photoshop scandal in the works. And another reason not to believe anything you see. Hat tip: BuzzFeed.

You Are What You Eat (Dumplings)

Last night I watched one of the most disgusting and stomach churning movie I've ever seen. Dumplings, one of the so-called "Asia Extreme" movies that have been getting a lot of recent attention here in the States, is stunning to look at and has an enjoyably campy and operatic plot.

But director Fruit Chan really doesn't know when to stop. The plot? From IMDB.com:

To remain beautiful and young, a woman embarks in a sick and disgusting [quest] for a repugnant menu.
Unlike recent "torture porn" flicks that also push the boundaries of violence and gore, Dumplings doesn't implicate the viewer in the action--fortunately. You might lose your lunch anyway.

Beer + Rugby = Something Totally NSFW

Here are some clips from a documentary on British ruggers getting drunk, stripping in pubs, and clearly defining the term homoerotic.

While the action itself is quite nice and nothing I'd complain about, the truly amazing part of the video is the end, where the young men--now sober--watch a tape of themselves, um, performing. They seem to be neither embarrassed nor ashamed. If anything, they seem happy about it. Even celebratory.

Makes me want to play a little ball, myself.

Hat tip: Daily Dish.

TGIF: Let's Stay Together

The great Rev. Al Greene opens his heart.

Thursday, July 19, 2007

College Republicans: The Future of Ambivalent Sexuality

Yes, I'm dancing, but it's DEFINITELY not disco.Max Blumenthal has a not-necessarily-enlightening video on HuffingtonPost detailing his infiltration of a College Republican conference in DC. The kids, of course, hang themselves on their own blind idiocy. Blumenthal, of course, makes a scene and gets thrown out. And crimes against logic rule the day.

However, there are three moments of sheer lunacy so utterly amazing and downright sad scary hilarious that it's worth sitting through the rest of the Michael Moore-isms.

In the first, old standby Tom Delay hits two liberal birds with one sharp conservative stone:

I content [abortion] affects you in immigration. If we had those 40 million children that were killed over the last 40 years we wouldn't need illegal immigrants to fill those jobs...Think about it.
In second, some poor misguided kid says the he wouldn't enlist because he might become "like a really good speaker and stuff like that." (Too many jokes. Brain about to explode.)

Finally, the same really good public speaker discusses conservatives' ongoing problems with gays--by first grudgingly admitting that we are citizens, and then by going off on a wild, probably unintential aside:

Everybody in their life has had [pause] inclinations [long pause] toward the [very long pause] um, same sex.
You can almost hear the disco in his panicked, twitchy speech. And it only gets worse. And my worse, I mean excellent.

Is This the World's Shortest Concert?

The White Stripes demonstrate that punk isn't dead, it just has something else to do.

My First Time

Earlier this week, for the first time ever, I threw a book in the trash.

I was standing on the platform at the Mt. Vernon Square Metro station, reading Robert Heinlein's Starship Troopers. I'd been reading it for the last four days, and for those four days, the book had been pissing me off. But when I got to the point where Dubois, Heinlein's stand-in, began to deride the decadencies of twentieth century democracy--for more than 10 pages--I gave up.

Turns out, I could take the endless philosophical debates. I could take the fascistic utopia crap. And I could (barely) stomach the straw men arguments he used to prop up his militaristic house of cards. But all three? C'mon. I'm 44 years old. I don't have time to waste.

Besides, I've never had the patience for the brittle libertarianism common among the most devoted SF fans.

Survey says: Mean, boring, and wrong. Verdict: Compost.

Insult of the Day

A twofer for the advertising campaign for a movie--I think--about a sheep, a daughter, and a lawyer. Hey, that's what the poster says.

From Variety:

It looks like it was designed by a Bollywood crack-addict.
And from Defamer:

the work of a criminally insane graphic designing hopeful who procrastinated too log before getting started on the final project for his prison's occupational Potoshop-therapy class, but, really, that would be splitting hairs.
Take your pick.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Don't Believe Anything You See

This is not my faceFor the low, low price of $10,000, Jezebel.com was able to get hold of an un-retouched photograph of Faith Hill that was--not surprisingly--modified before it appeared on the July Redbook cover. What was surprising: How heavily and needlessly extravagant the Photoshopping was.

Everyone knows about line smoothing and eye brightening. But moving hands, reducing an arm's width by half, reshaping someone's entire head?

Jezebel gets to the heart of the matter. And hilariously, too. Key quote:

3. THOSE CHEEKS: What exactly do you think she's hoarding in there? Snacks to get her through Ramadan? And boy could bitch take a little time out on that deviated septum...

Back of the Bin: Homosapien

I'm the shy boy/You're the coy boy/And you know we're/Homosapien, too.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

How Did I Miss This: The Tolerability Index

From The AV Club, a "guide to what we're barely putting up with this week." Best entry? The Oprah Store, for sure:

Likely inventory: Angel pins, O mugs, Secret keychains, "good" sweatpants, and anything else middle-aged depression would sell if it were a store.
Ooooooh. Snap!


Discarded is a series of photographs of a streetscape art project from the Australian blog City Traces. According to the author:

This work will explore the idea that the marks on the pavement and the minutiae found in the streets can tell you where you are and provide clues for deciphering the narratives of the cultural terrain.
So very cool.

100% Guaranteed Overheard: Rumors

At the Dupont Circle CVS, as "You Make Loving Fun" plays on the PA system.

Old Clerk: What is it? This Juice Newton, or something?
Young Clerk: [shrugs]
Me: It's Fleetwood Mac
Old Clerk: This isn't Stevie Nicks.
Me: It's Christine McVie.
Old Clerk: They have two singers?
Me: Three singers. Lindsey Buckingham is the other one.
Old Clerk: Ohhhh.
Young Clerk: [smirking] He told you!

For more eavesdropping fun, check out Overheard in New York.

Monday, July 16, 2007

Top Ten Japanese Gay Salaryman Porn Titles

These were taken from a Japanese gay "salaryman" porn video site, and are 100% guaranteed true.

I was laughing so hard I could barely finish my order.

10. Nonconsultation Day
09. One Night Standing
08. Bald & Dauntless
07. Uncontrolled Fruits
06. Spout ! Business Man
05. Triangular Sex Struggle
04. Pork Buns
03. Miserable Chubby Guy
02. Hankering for Cock

And the #1 Japanese gay salaryman porn video title is ... Full of Ass

All My Friends

Check out this article on Slate about LCD Soundsystem's song "All My Friends." The song--like every song on Sound of Silver--is fantastic. Like Talking Heads channeling the best drum & bass around. And I have a special place in my heart for anyone who can so devastatingly capture the melancholy of the aging cool guy. (For the serious fans, Franz Ferdinand has released a cover of the song that really does take the piss from New Order.)

Fanboy Ecstasy

Field of clover, my ass!

  1. J.J. Abrams Cloverfield phenomenon has mushroomed out of control. It's everywhere, even on VH1--the channel for shortbus hipsters to lazy too actually be cool. If you haven't seen the trailer, it's here. And don't forget the weird/dumb movie website with the moveable photos. Do a Google search if you want to see theories, fake websites, predictions, parodies, et al. Survey says: Fanboy wet dream.

  2. David Duchoveny claims there is a second X-Files movie in the works. Please, let it be so. And please, let it not suck.

  3. Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! was broadcast on the TCM cable channel last week. Outstanding. Even better was the post-movie chat between Robert Osborne and Tod Oldham. Hilarious--especially Osborne's face when Oldham compared the Russ Meyer gem to Citizen Kane with nary a whisper of irony.

Friday, July 13, 2007

Back of the Bin: Oblivious

"They call us lonely, when we're really just alone."

I'm Back

What I learned while I was away:

  1. One can actually spend four hours playing with a cell phone.
  2. Some modern pop music truly is the sound of hope dying.
  3. Some babies don't like fireworks; other babies HATE fireworks.
  4. South Carolina is full of freaky, freaky people.
  5. I have a knack for picking and selling antiques.

The Fanboys (and Girls)

Photographer Robbie Cooper matches gamers with their online avatars in this weird and provocative slideshow. Yes, it's been linked everywhere for weeks. But it fascinates me and I keep coming back to it. Color me jealous.

Tuesday, July 3, 2007

Bon Voyage

I will be on travel for a few days, riding the rails to go visit the old lady. This here little ol' blog may get a few cobwebs on it, if I can't figure out a way to get to Blogger from Myrtle Beach.

But I'll be back eventually.

Stay tuned.

Chim Chim's Revenge

Welcome to the Mach Five Dungeon of Monkey Torture

Defamer is always funny, but every single line in today's report of a chimpanzee attack on the set of Speed Racer had me clutching the pearls. In a good way. Key quote:

The 15 milligrams of injectable "rest" administered to the ornery chimp proved so successful, producers ultimately decided to give the newly docile actor a second chance. It's a decision they may wind up regretting, should horrified crew members find themselves fishing Spritle's mangled body from the Mach Five's trunk, only to discover a blood-drench Chim-Chim emerging from the shadows a moment later, delivering a dead-eyed stare that all but gloats, "The bite was your warning, humans. Spritle didn't have to die."

Insult of the Day

From Bob Cesca's Huffington Post column on Scooter Libby's pardon backdoor exit:

"...the same set of googly-eyed Cotton Mathers wanted President Clinton at least impeached and, at most, castrated after he was caught lying to a grand jury about oral sex."

Cotton Mather...an obscure but accurate blast from the past, elevated by "googly-eyed" into the stratosphere. One can almost imagine James Dobson in his modest black wool carrying a torch to the pyre.

3 stars out of 5.

The Social Network Tango

I'm not much of joiner. I don't belong to any clubs. I don't do organized volunteering. I've only rarely been involved in any kind of professionial organization. I never even liked the chatrooms when I subscribed to AOL. So this social networking gig is like pulling hair.

But I'm forcing myself to do it, both as research for work and, frankly, because it's not healthy to be a hermit. I've signed up for Facebook already. This weekend, I joined Linked In. I hope to find a few others to jump into--such as Change.org.

Already I've noticed a few interesting things about these spaces. The relationships these sites foster really are different. Specifically, they spend enormous energy to support, encourage, maintain, and grow very tenuous connections. These are the "friends of my mom's boss" kind of connections.

In the old days, we'd relegated those people to our contacts file or Christmas card list. Now they can be right in front of your face, all the time, any time. Just like real friends. Only this is a new kind of friendship. Perhaps a better description would be "deep acquaintances" or "close contacts."

I'm not the first to notice this. But it's new to me. And like new boots, it's gonna take some time to get use to it before I can kick ass.

Interestingly enough, when I search for old friends or school friends on these networks, I find none. Birds of a feather, guess...

Monday, July 2, 2007

Reflected Glory

This is me, walking back from lunch today, captured in the shiny finished of a parked car. Why can't everyday be as bright and clean and blue as today?

Insult of the Day

From Gawker Stalker, about a sighting of Average Joe Adam Mesh and his two female companions.

"[I] told him he "wasn't average to me" and he said "thanks." Was hanging out with two girls, one of whom had a discount nosejob but an expensive bag.
Nose job snobbery + hot bag envy = loving it (divided by a itsy bitsy bit of loathing).

3 stars out of 5.

Sunday, July 1, 2007

A Pic, A Tick, and a Flick

Went to Tony's yesterday for a no-brainer Saturday: take a few photos, grab some dinner, then play Wii-version of Resident Evil 4 until we passed out from video-game-induced stress. After a late start (thank you so much, nap fairies!) we tooled around Sterling, Virginia, looking for inspiration. That didn't work out so well, so we just pulled into a parking lot near a field to capture the low sun. It was perfect. Except for the fat, black tick I found on my leg. Cue phobia!

We hightailed it to dinner, where Tony captured the lovely photo above, among others that may see the light of blog sometime. Or maybe not. Junk food and camera phones turned out to be more fun than expected.

Back at his place we fired up the Wii after David, the third leg of our tripod of destruction, showed up. The game was awesomely fun. In fact, zombies + Wii = fun. And what did we learn from this educational experience? If a friend says "Don't jump out the window!", jump anyway. And if the online guide says "Shoot the old woman!", just don't.