E. Annie Proulx: Fancy Name, Big Baby.
Monday March 13th 2006, 11:11 am
Filed under: media
E. Annie Proulx, writer of the Pulitzer Prize-winning novel The Shipping News, has outed herself as a big fucking baby in Saturday’s Guardian. Proulx wrote a short story that was later adapted by Larry McMurtry and Diana Ossana into a screeplay for some weird movie about gay cowboys, and she now feels that said gay cowboy movie was robbed of a well-deserved Oscar for Best Picture by some other movie called Crash. In a delightfully cheeky display of writerly wordplay, she refers to it as “Trash.” Get it? Yeah, it’s pretty good. What do you expect? She’s a Pulitzer Prize winner.
Anyway, her printed missive smacks of sour grapes and a lumbering dinosaur of a writer fading into irrelevance with all the style and grace of a frozen dog turd. In it, she proceeds to trash everyone from Philip Seymour Hoffman to Three Six Mafia*, a ballsy move considering the Triple 6 are some of the craziest thugged out dirty south gangsters (read: the ONLY ones) to ever grace the red carpet. Her reasons for trashing Hoffman? Check it out:
“Hollywood loves mimicry, the conversion of a film actor into the spittin’ image of a once-living celeb. But which takes more skill, acting a person who strolled the boulevard a few decades ago and who left behind tapes, film, photographs, voice recordings and friends with strong memories, or the construction of characters from imagination and a few cold words on the page? I don’t know. The subject never comes up.”
Wah, wah. Seriously – has this woman ever even SEEN the Oscars? Does she really think the Oscar for Best Picture goes to the best movie? Where was she in 1997
? How about 2000
? Get a clue, babe. Use those tears to shine your Pulitzer Prize or something – you’re embarassing yourself.
* I would like to state as a matter of fact that Three Six Mafia, who just won an Oscar, also made this. Just sayin’.
The Best Courtroom Sketch of All Time.
Ruth Bader Ginsburg took a little snooze cruise in the courtroom on March 1. Big deal. She’s only, like, one of nine members of the Judicial branch of the United States Government. So if she’s one ninth of one third of the government of the most powerful nation in the world, that makes her only…. let’s see… about 3.7% important. Faulty logic? You’re faulty. Fuck off.
Who could blame her? The hearings were about political redistricting in Texas which, I think, means they were arguing for hours about the shapes of the voting districts in Texas. Just typing that sentence made me nod out a little.
Anyway, the only reason I’m writing about this at all, as you might have guessed from the title, is because as a result of this would-be fiasco, the single greatest courtroom sketch of all time has been created. I will post it now for your viewing pleasure, and then I will shut the fuck up.
The Holiest Wednesday Ever.
Wednesday March 01st 2006, 4:11 pm
Filed under: lists
So it’s Ash Wednesday. That very special day for those very special people who smear ashes all over their foreheads and walk around like it’s no big deal. In honor of those people, I thought it would be good to take some time out of my busy schedule to think about what I might hypothetically give up for Lent if my people hadn’t, you know, killed Jesus.
1. Thinking too much about locking doors and turning off the gas on the stove.
2. Slapping my cat. This is not a dirty joke. I mean actual physical abuse to my actual pet.
3. Beer, whiskey & ginger ale, & vodka tonics. I just think it would be interesting to find out what would replace them as my regular booze drinks.
4. Meat. Potted meat.
5. Movies with any redeeming value.
6. The internet. Seriously.
7. Using mirrors.
9. Facial expressions.
10. Making noises with my mouth (the little explosion ones like “psssshhheeeeeewww”).
11. All the booger stuff.
13. Umm… corn?
Who am I kidding? I don’t give stuff up. Enjoy your Lent, suckers. I’ll be watching pornos and drinking cocktails on Transgression Island.
Or maybe just sitting at my desk thinking about it.
Back To The Desk.
Tuesday February 28th 2006, 4:42 pm
Filed under: rants
After an amazing nine days in New York City, I’m finally back at my desk. Thank god. I was starting to get used to doing whatever the hell I want.
So what, might you ask, am I doing now? After a week and some change of hanging out with awesome kids, getting crunk until 7 am, then waking up to ride around in the subway and get lost in the biggest city in the country, how could I possibly get back into the habit of waking up and going to work? I needed something to calm me down, to break my spirit all over again.
And I found it. Ladies and gentlemen, it is my most sincere pleasure to present to you the most boring conspiracy theory of all time.
Overheard In Chicago
Thursday February 16th 2006, 11:26 am
Filed under: rants
Yesterday I rode the brown line for the first time in ages. Riding the blue line almost exclusively makes it easy to forget how different the train lines are from one another, but it didn’t take long to remember that the brown line is a different beast altogether. I was wedged against the window, pinned by two women. They obviously worked together, and both were blonde and bubbly late-20s or early-30s professionals. They got on at Clark & Lake and started talking about the new office hottie.
“When I saw him on our floor, I was like ‘finally!’, you know?”
“Totally. I totally had to ask Chris for a 10 minute break to cool down…”
They blathered on and on about that for a while until there was a lull in the conversation. I love that part, because that’s the part where the office-buddies-talking-outside-the-office phenomenon is stripped of its pretenses and it becomes blatantly obvious which one of them wants to get away from the other. Her eyes shift and you can tell she’s thinking about how she’d much rather be reading her dog-eared copy of The Da Vinci Code, or finishing that Sudoku she started earlier, and the awkward pause continues for a few more seconds. Then one of them breaks the silence. The person who breaks the silence is the person the other one wants to get away from. In this case, the person broke the silence did so to complain about her disastrous trip to Ethiopia. Part of the problem, apparently, was that she took the trip with a guy she had only been on four dates with.
“He was nice, and we totally got along, but it was touch and go the whole time,” she said. “He was so disorganized. I mean, I planned the whole trip anyway, but he wasn’t ready at all. He kept drinking my bottled water and taking the medicine I brought… I mean, I only packed for one.”
Then there was the flight fiasco. They booked flights on Ethiopia Air to take them to different parts of the country, but when they say to reconfirm your flight on Ethiopia Air they mean it, apparently. “The guy was like, ‘I’m sorry, but we can’t let you on the plane. Your seats have not been reconfirmed.’ I was like, who does that? They always say reconfirm, but nobody actually does it! Then the guy started saying, ‘Ma’am, please, be legal.’ Be legal! He kept saying that! I was like, uhh, no you didn’t!”
Oh. Here’s a picture from Ethiopia so you know what Ethiopia we’re talking about here.
Yeah. THAT Ethiopia.
Seriously though – who goes on vacation to Africa with someone you’ve been on four dates with?!
Oh yeah – then this morning some chick on the blue line was telling her friend that when she has a baby, she’s gonna teach it to eat “real good.”
“I’m gonna give him fruit snacks and stuff. Not the sugary kind – the good kind with the real fruit in ’em, cuz babies don’t know the difference,” she said.
“Yeah, those are good for you,” her friend replied.
“I’m gonna feed ’em all kinds of good stuff. I’m gonna teach my baby to like fruit, and cheese. And meat.”
(this post has probably been at least to some extent inspired by the very excellent website Overheard In New York. Oh – and go here to read devastatingly depressing info about Ethiopia, like the fact that the average life expectancy is 48 years, or maybe that they have a 10% infant mortality rate. Think about this, cluck your tongue and nod your head “no” because it’s such a shame. Then finish your Quiznos sub and go watch that Chronic of Narnia video for the millionth time. Done with that? Afro Ninja. Ha ha. Internet funny.)
The Most Depressing Website In The Universe
Screw Bonsai Kittens – that shit was fake and you knew it all along anyway, but THIS. Whoa. That’s some next-level awfulness. Here’s a little sample:
I’m deaf mother with 4 children. Salvation Army have no fund for rental assitance until April 2006. Right now, we are at shelter only for 30 days to stay. I need a rental assitance for rent house or rent apt before January 1st 2006. Please. Don’t put us on the street, again. I never ask my parents or friends for help. I’m idependence and depend on God and hope Angel will come to me for rental assitance and need furntuires, 4 bikes, computer, and large 1 tv set, that’s all. Help us will be great!! God bless you always. There’s never focus on deaf mother or deaf people’s need in my hometown. I have hard time, but very great patience. Text message me at 704.345.8205. Thank again.
Yeesh. It’s nice to know there’s no shortage of real, actual misery in the world. None of this I-hate-my-job-I-just-want-to-do-something-creative crap. Real, tangible human suffering. Speaking of which, hey, you know that bitch at the bar? You know – the really well dressed one who’s always making shitty faces? She’s been talking shit about you. Swear to god. Yeah, I know – she is a cunt. Fuck – I thought I ordered this burrito with no cilantro. I did, didn’t I?
Tuesday January 31st 2006, 10:31 am
Filed under: news
So a female ex-postal worker “went postal” yesterday and killed six people in a mail processing room before committing suicide. Isn’t that just a little… I don’t know… cliche? It seems like if you work in an industry that has a stereotype attached to it (like, say, all ex-postal workers come back with a gun and kill their ex-coworkers), you would go out of your way to defy those expectations by, say, not killing all your ex-coworkers. Like the ice cream man who doesn’t molest any kids, or the milkman who never fucks another man’s wife, these are the people who open our eyes and make us rethink the way we look at the world. Sometimes it’s the little things – a non-spicy taxi cab, for example – that make all the difference. Sometimes it’s bigger things, like a sober Irish cop marrying a black chick. Big or small, these are the things that push society forward toward a glimmering and tolerant future, and it breaks my heart to see people like this set progress back a whole decade, back to a time when it was more than just okay to say someone went “postal” – it was funny. A time when people got unironically jiggy. A time when hamsters and babies danced together in harmony. I thought we’d moved past all that. I guess I was wrong.
Thanks a lot, female ex-postal worker.
this is a bunch of crap.
Thursday January 05th 2006, 12:46 pm
Filed under: news
According to a study in Canada, it can be beneficial to give homeless alcoholics a free glass of wine EVERY HOUR between 7:00 am and 10:00 pm. That’s 16 drinks a day. According to Jeff Turnbull, one of the authors of the study, “Once the craziness of their alcoholism is under control, their wasted lives on the street turned around, they’re interesting people and all that destructive behavior is behind them.” Fair enough.
But while Canada is footing the bill to keep the homeless wasted enough to behave, the bobbies over in London are super pissed at Kate Moss regarding her… ahem… alleged cocaine use.
I don’t want to live in a world where we give our homeless free booze but punish our supermodels for snorting cocaine. I always sort of figured blow was like a tax write-off for models. Is the problem that cocaine is like CHEATING for models? Like cocaine is to modeling as steroids are to baseball? I guess I don’t understand the modeling industry very well. The way I see it, if we should give homeless people sixteen free glasses of wine a day, then we should give supermodels a free gram of coke a day too.
cough into your god damned sleeve.
Tuesday January 03rd 2006, 2:57 pm
Filed under: rants
I was at a coffeeshop a little while ago buying some juice and a bagel with cream cheese. I went there mostly for the juice because I’m sick like an animal over here and I figured the vitamins and all that crap might be good for me. So I’m sitting there at the coffeeshop waiting for my bagel and sort of staring blankly in the general direction of the cashier, when all of the sudden she starts coughing. My eyes snapped into focus and I saw something very ordinary, very everyday.
The cashier was coughing into her sleeve.
It took me a few minutes to fully grasp the significance. I sniffled a few times, and felt my temples throb (assumedly with mucus, or some other kind of sickness-related fluid I don’t know about), and then it hit me. Yeah, it’s not particularly attractive to cough all over your shirt, but it’s probably worse to do it all over your hands, right? You don’t grab door knobs and handrails with the crook of your arm, do you? This makes sense. Cough into your god damned sleeve. I turned to my roommate with my epiphany.
“That’s such a good fucking idea!” I said.
“Coughing into your sleeve.”
“Yeah. It’s a food service thing.”
So apparently the food service sector has been hip to this for a while. A quick google search shows that the health sector are also aware of the benefits of sleeve coughing. So when the hell is this gonna catch on with the business casual crowd? Nobody at the office wants to get sick, but everybody comes to work sick and coughs all over their hands and grabs everything in sight and then BAM! Here I am with a brutal cold.
The moral of the story is this: cough into your god damned sleeve.
Tuesday December 27th 2005, 4:38 pm
Filed under: rants
This is a test. It’s also a rant about how whenever people drop shit in a mailbox they always let it slam shut and then reopen it to make sure their stuff slid down the chute. Has anyone in the history of mail ever opened the chute up to find their package somehow mysteriously still resting in the slot? No.
It’s not like this makes me mad or anything. It just doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.