Sunday, July 31, 2005

When I was born for the 7th time

So my main man Pinko Punko has succeeded in dragging me, kicking and screaming, back into tha blog hood, after a year-plus hiatus. I usedta be a big name, I coulda been a contender, yadda yadda yadda, but between my career and my deep, deep shame at having endorsed the war in Iraq (Atrios described my situation pretty well: "9/11 drove a lot of people a little bit crazy, understandably. And, sadly, a lot of those people felt it necessary to suspend their distrust of the Bush administration."), I ended up letting things slide. And to think, I was once among the top 100 on NZ Bear's Blog Ecosystem (what's funny is that since then -- say about three years ago -- so many new, even less-read blogs have appeared that my relative ranking in the ecosystem has gone up while my absolute ranking has gone way down).

But enough talking smack about my formerly bad-ass self. Suffice it to say that I'm back, bitches, at least until I get bored or too busy again. In the meantime, while I sit back and wait for the world to piss me off, I'm taking on a project suggested by Pinko and Mrs. Booty, and taking a trip down memory lane into...the Black Hole of My Old Blogroll.

You see, prior to chiggity checking myself before wriggity-wrecking myself, I had a pretty serious flirtation with the Right, one that preceded my blog and even preceded 9/11. I've since reverted to the opinion I had back in college, what might be called the Mary McCarthy theory of the Right ("Every word a conservative says is a lie, including 'and' and 'the'"), but in the late '90s, for one reason or another, I fell under their sway.

(Actually, what happened was that, baffled by Clinton-hatred and perhaps a bit tired of the multi-culti pieties of the Northeast, I decided to investigate "why they hate us", and actually began to visit right wing websites and reading the Weekly Standard and other organs of the faith. What happened next was something I should have seen coming from every serial killer movie: to catch a killer, you have to think like a killer, but where do you draw the line? In my case, I already had my basement freezer half-full of body parts before I realized that I'd gone too far. "We aren't so different after all, are we, Special Agent Johnson?")

So as part of my mission of atonement, I will be going over some of the more egregious members of my blogroll, and possibly try to explain what I was thinking at the time. I'll go in ascending order of awfulness, crescendoing with the worst...blogger...ever... And the best thing is that he and most of the rest still have my old blog on their blogrolls, thus inflating my Ecosystem rating (I'm now a Marsupial, whereas in the long-ago era before every tragic high schooler had a totally-unread blog about Dashboard Confessional, I never rated higher than a Rodent). Thanks, suckas!

And we continue...

Saturday, July 30, 2005

People Political!

Mind your manners, and stay off the carpet, the original Mrs. Punko is a real ball-buster. We offer praise to Cookie Jesus! Be sure to check out Monday Goldberg Theatre.

And we continue...

Friday, July 29, 2005

My favorite inside source, I kiss your open sores

I'm hardly gonna be the first person to proffer this link, but it is really worth your while to read Arianna Huffington's far-from-idle speculations about Jailbird Judy:
Not everyone in the Times building is on the same page when it comes to Judy Miller. The official story the paper is sticking to is that Miller is a heroic martyr, sacrificing her freedom in the name of journalistic integrity.

But a very different scenario is being floated in the halls. Here it is: It's July 6, 2003, and Joe Wilson's now famous op-ed piece appears in the Times, raising the idea that the Bush administration has "manipulate[d]" and "twisted" intelligence "to exaggerate the Iraqi threat." Miller, who has been pushing this manipulated, twisted, and exaggerated intel in the Times for months, goes ballistic. . . [S]he calls her friends in the intelligence community and asks, Who is this guy? She finds out he's married to a CIA agent. She then passes on the info about Mrs. Wilson to Scooter Libby (Newsday has identified a meeting Miller had on July 8 in Washington with an "unnamed government official"). Maybe Miller tells Rove too -- or Libby does. The White House hatchet men turn around and tell Novak and Cooper. The story gets out.

This is why Miller doesn't want to reveal her "source" at the White House -- because she was the source.
D'oh! Oh, how I hope this proves true. A good indicator that this shit is, in fact, about to hit the fan will be when the wingnuts start reminding us that Miller works for the Liberal Media flagship, therefore it was the Liberal Media (yeah, that's the ticket!), not the Bush administration, that was responsible for the bullshit "intelligence" that bolstered the case for war. (The sad thing that is they will be half right -- in my former life as a moderate liberal non-anony-blogger, I definitely took Miller's reporting seriously in weighing the case for war, and ultimately coming down in favor of it.) Just you watch John Podhoretz's mouth -- sooner or later, this particular kernel of corn will gleam among the turds emerging thencefrom.

But I come not to insult JPod or snicker at Judith Miller, but to remind people of a half-joke that went around shortly after 9-11. Wasn't it a little suspicious that Miller's book on bioterrorism, Germs, came out just a few weeks after the anthrax attacks (still unsolved, as Ariana's HuffPost colleague Harry Shearer reminds us). Perhaps Miller can stand to add five extra deaths to her existing bar tab?

And we continue...

Friday Musical Poop Shoot

Our dying web page edition. Shout out to Professor Stiff- get your ass in here MOFO.

1. Starting to Be It-Papas Fritas.
More slow one from Boston funsters. I like them more when it sounds like Big Bird is going to bust in, not the guitarist from Wings. Still OK. 7/10.

2. The Book of Right-On -Joanna Newsom.
Yes she sounds likes a little kid and the chick from Portishead singing "Coyboys" but instead there will be a transition when you realize she is amazing and your life was an empty nothing without her. The best way to come to this inevitable conclusion is via her popping up on your Party Shuffle. Too much too soon can be a prob. A google/10.

3. Live Wire-AC/DC.
The DC. As they were meant to be. Angus shits out chunky riffs of salaciousness, yet somehow you feel like its all in good fun. But that would be the patriarchy talking. I still feel like Bon was one of those kids that acted all pervy but was really just saying stuff to get you going. 8/10.

4. The Old Master Painter-The Beach Boys.
No one seems to notice on this track but on this bootleg snippet of Smile, they sing "You Are My Sunshine" in the past tense. Making it the most infinitely sad bit of anything ever. And then the perfect little burst of sax, which is just not equaled on the remake. 10/10.

5. Suddenly-Black Rebel Motorcycle Club.
From their uneven second album. 5/10. Just listen to "Heart +Soul" from this album a million times instead.

6. Accident-Clem Snide.
Some people don't like Eef Barzelay of Clem Snide, because he isn't who they want him to be. He is either too serious or too snarky. No, he is just right. Twisted country folk, with psychedelic leaning lyrics that suggest isolation more than relationships. 7/10.

7. Testure (12' mix)-Skinny Puppy.
Extended from the Vivisect VI track, but I like the album track better. The perfect industrial club track that makes you want to shake your ass, and look all cool and where some black eyeliner and lose yourself while they sing about animal research and how terrible it is. Except you don't care cuz you can't really here what he is saying and you are trying to burn off those all you can eat fajitas, while pretending not to stare at the cage dancer. (7/10 for this mix probably cuz it is easier to here what he is saying, 10/10 for the album track).

8. In Dust We Trust-Chemical Brothers.
Good for shakin' your booty at work when no one's around. Whatever, it's the kind of work I do. Use your imagination. 7/10.

9. You Say You Don't Love Me-The Buzzcocks.
I love the Buzzcocks. But not this song so much. 4/10.

10. Miss Teen Wordpower-The New Pornographers.
NEW ALBUM SOON. NOBODY. KNOWS. THE. WRECK. OF THE SOUL. THE WAY YOU DO. *sigh*. Indefinable quatity. Infinity over zero.

And we continue...

Thursday, July 28, 2005

The Difference Between Subway and Quizno's

Subway: where your self-esteem and nerves are shot by them forcing you to watch them screw up your sandwich. You are given the illusion of control and it is just that, an illusion.

We illustrate:

1) The Cheese

"Would you like cheese on that?" "No"

"Uh, I said no cheese" as cheese is draped over your motherf***ing BMT. You gesticulate wildly, they remove the offending product, and put it back in the pile. Oh, and yeah, thanks for discontinuing the Cookie Jesus loving Spicy Italian, a-holes.

2) The Tomato

While g*d damn Jared shoves his sweet onion chicken teriyaki into his subhole, sub commander cobag is selecting the tomato slice that has the fricking stem still on it to add crunch to your motherf***ing BMT. Seriously, it is the tomato slice that has the apple core in it.

3) The Hot Pepper
You're not a pussy, you like a little spice on your motherf***ing BMT. So you ask for some hot pepper. They have two kinds, but they don't know the difference between the jalapenos and the banana peppers. So you say one, and then they go to put the other one on, and you point frantically at the one you really want, and your nerves are shot to hell by the assembly line of death that they run.

4) The Hot Pepper 2
Given that tiny snowflakes sometimes become babies, there is also a chance that your sub-subjugator will go for the right kind of hot pepper. He or she will do one of two things, they will put one or two on or 500. Literally a shitload pile of hot peppers on your motherf***ing BMT.

5) The Olive
There are two quantities of olive at Subway. Less and almost none. It does not count as an ingredient. Given the chance that your subtech actually picks up more than 2 olives, you will just be forced to watch those bad boys roll off onto the floor before your very eyes.

6) The Lettuce
I can't print the lettuce on this family show. It is rude pundit-esque but true.

Quizno's: where you think you cede control, yet you have no real idea what the hell is happening to your motherf***ing Spicy Monterrey Club. There is no standard protocol of abuse at Quizno's. This makes it almost more dangerous than Subway's game.

We illustrate:

1) The addition.

Um, can I get some olives on that? OK. And then your sandwich comes out with nothing but olives. You see, they thought you meant "I want olives on that in place of every single other vegetation that comes on the sandwich."

2) No cheese, please.

And then your motherf**cking classic italian comes out with a molten slab of everloving cheese on it. Yeah, because you turn your back, you're gonna get stabbed. And then you have to wait a million more minutes for your new sub to go through the tunnel of fricking love.

3) The whammy.

"One large Spicy Monterry Club, please."

"That'll be 8 dollars."

And we continue...

Monday, July 25, 2005

Monday Goldberg Theatre

EPISODE 3 CPL CMDR. W. JONAH GOLDRIKER: STRIKEFORCE UNLEASHED
Episode 1 HERE
Episode 2 HERE







And we continue...

PROGRAM ANNOUNCEMENT!

Monday Goldberg Theatre will be up today, just later. To our dear, loyal reader, thank you for your patience. Due to Adult oriented content.




And we continue...

Friday, July 22, 2005

Friday Musical Poop Shoot-To Educate You, Not Prove How Uncool We Are

Mixed bag this week.

1. Mull Historical Society- This Is Not Who We Were.
One man English band, jaunty retro pop. Maybe sounds a little bit like The Beautiful South, except not as cynical or annoying? TBS had the one guy from The House Martins that was not Fat Boy Slim (for the modern rock conoisseurs). This song from his album Loss. I'd say it is the middle of the pack for this album. 6/10.

2. To The Sky-The Cure.
Good "Pictures of You"/"Lullaby" type Cure song, not as maudlin, or maybe more. Was a rare track off of a Fiction records sampler, but I think it has been released with a compilation. Good song, somehow better when it was super rare and you felt lucky to own it. 7/10.

3. You Shook Me-AC/DC.
My love for this song has been completely sapped by sorority girl sing-alongs and just overall malaise. I am having a torrid affair with Bon Scott AC/DC and this song does not fit that bill. .1/10.

4. Come Into Our Room-Clinic.
From their harmonium covered retro garage creepy-fest Walking With Thee. The atmosphere on this album is great, but perhaps a little too much. Perhaps a little repetitive. Not my favorite from this album. But still good. I love Clinic. As you may know, these guys are weirdos, but they have their own sound that is for sure. 7/10.

5. Nietzsche-The Dandy Warhols.
This song can stand alone, but works best as the last of the first three songs from Thirteen Tales of Urban Bohemia. The songs "Godless", "Mohammed" and "Nietzsche" flow into one another. Whereas "Godless" has some stolen George Harrison guitar strumming in a musical pun and a retro blast of horns, and "Mohammed" is more psychedelic and opaque, "Nietzsche" is more of a typical Dandy Warhols wall of sound fest. There is the feeling that under their usual cheek, these songs are thematically linked as their musical linkage would suggest, while still being quite distinct from one another. Some like to blow these guys off as drug-fueled jackoffs, but they give a shit about the music that they make, and I've yet to seem them put on a shitty show. 7/10.

6. Just to See You-Papas Fritas.
Sesame Street sounding retro pop from Boston. One of their more serious outings. Guy and gal singers. Liable to put a smile on your face. From Helioself. 7/10.

7. Barnyard-Beach Boys.
A bit of Dixie Horns, the usual annoying wood block. This is the bootleg original without the extra lyrics from Smile. But the ooh ooh oooh oooh woos at the end just KILL, as they usually do. 9/10.

8. Fully Completely-Tragically Hip.
The live track from that one Woodstock (Saturday morning- before Limp Bizkit and the shit hitting the fan). Not my favorite version of this song. The best part of these Canadian heroes set was crazy front man Gord Downie's insane stage patter. On one of the other songs he was talking about Canadians infiltrating the US by coming over the frozen river, and he had a tie on and his earpiece made him look like a Secret Service agent. He also had one other riff about having to sleep inside his burro that he sliced open a la Empire Strikes Back at the Grand Canyon. 5/10.

9. Misunderstood-Wilco.
From Being There. Just an awesome mopey piano and guitar wreck of a ballad, maybe it is his hang dog Americana voice. With requisite feebacky drummy heavier part in the middle before it gets quiet again as is directed in the Wilco handbook of songs. Feels like it should be from some Cameron Crowe movie that doesn't exist instead of some other song that will inevitably be in it. I don't even know Cameron Crowe movies. I can't explain it. 9/10.

10. If It Feels Good Do It-Sloan.
Canadian power pop heroes. Probably the beginning of their downturn into less good, more straightforward rockin numbers. Still a great track, they did their best when being a little more angular and obscure with the occasional fun rock number like this thrown in the mix. From their poorly produced (guitars too thin, too tinny) yet underated Pretty Together. All albums from PT back are pretty good, especially their first and second. My personal fave is their 5th I think, Between the Bridges.



And we continue...

Cookie Jesus Demands Our Attention To Matters of Faith

A dear reader has made a confession to us: his reading of the Cookie Jesus Scripture says that "Vienna Fingers" are equivalent to one of our many sacraments, the Cameo Creme. Cookie Jesus states unequivocally that "Vienna Fingers" are cheap imposters, tastingeth of cardboard, if they tastingeth of anything at all. Cookie Jesus has sent our penitent reader to Cookie Guantanamo so that he may be cloistereth with his thoughts on this matter.

And we continue...

Thursday, July 21, 2005

ACTION ALERT

The former Zlortonian She-Beast has metamophosed into the Solar Babe from Sextus Seven. Question: will the Uncanny One be naturalized in Americania or remain Uncanny?

Let us bow our heads to Cookie Jesus to ponder this matter. Let us also shun the Devil's melon.

And we continue...

Thanks, Sadly, No!


For creating this...this... Manly Love Spike? Penile Protuberance? Leaning Tower of Penis? Mound of Member? on our site meter, too bad the Absorb-shun harshed our buzz, we felt we had generated a voluminous volley with which to stun and amaze! Mucho Gracias!

Get your own Spur-M info here and your Absorb-shun info here!

And we continue...

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

Dear Charlie

Thanks for reading the webpage, and not contributing. You get the Wednesday Colostomy Bag. Don't be such a Cobag!


And we continue...

Bachem Macuno Strikes Again!

You might remember him from "Dr. Tom Cruise, MD" or "I deedled Ann Coulter in the Bum Bum Hard" but probable terrorist Bachem Macuno is back with a set of continuing ed courses I know you want to take. Here.

And we continue...

Got time to waste?

Not anymore. Go here. Put yout face into the trailer for "Wedding Crashers" or better yet, put someone else's- like Karl Rove. Thank you Rob Halford for the linky.



And we continue...

Thank you, Cookie Jesus!


The satanic cabal at Nabisco, perhaps in league with the Canadian Curling Association has decided that cookie diversity means 10-12 kinds of Oreo. As delightful as Oreos are, going down the the Ghetto Fresh grocer and only being able to obtain a cookie in an Oreo form really gets to Three Bulls! Cookie Jesus has answered our prayers and has made available the classic Cameo cookie. First introduced in 1899. Totally delish. Unlike an Oreo in both shape and taste. We do, however, look forward to the Mercury "Quicksilver" Oreo soon to be made available by the Roberts SCOTUS. As John Stossel might pronounce, if people don't like the Mercury Oreo, then they won't buy it. All hail the market!

And we continue...

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

In the event TBOGG ever googles himself...

We hope he shows up here. We realized today that Monday Goldberg Theatre is of a kind with his most masterful fan fiction (fiction that is, we do not yet claim his mastery). And we wanted to make milk come out his nose. TBOGG lives here and is Teh Funny.


And we continue...

Monday, July 18, 2005

Monday Goldberg Theatre

Episode 2.
"A Happy Reunion?"
EPISODE ONE HERE






And we continue...

Even in the meaningless things, world shifts back to evil

Caption: This kindly creature deigns to live among us and render aid in our fight against the undead forces. While fearsome, he can be subdued by gummi bears, swedish fish and other diversity promoting glutinous candies.

(Boston, MA) The robotic march of the Yankees towards their soul-bought perch atop the AL east continued with only a small 17-1 hiccup on Friday. The pinstriped zombies took 3 of 4 from our beloved resistance this weekend. The shining greatness of Friday was swept away with only a small glower from motheaten Joe Torre, the back of Gary Sheffield's impetuous hand Saturday, and the awakening of the Pear-shaped Posada beast on Sunday. The newly undead Al Leiter, having set us up for the fall with injuries and a craptacular 8 something ERA used his new powers to strike out 8 freedom fighters. Our not really loveable band were reduced to Manny's A-Rod like solo shot whimper late in the game, and two other scores but no real body blows.

In other news, the juries are still out on whether Lance Armstrong's and Tiger Woods' strangleholds on greatness are the last gasps of imperiled humanity, or the first signs of our inevitable subjugation by androids.
*sigh*.



And we continue...

Friday, July 15, 2005

Crapping on Pinko's Random Music - A Twisted Revue

For reasons that entirely escape me, Pinko Punko has great taste in music, yet his iTunes collection is full of random sh*t. Really bad stuff. So I had him send me a random revue so you can see how bad the selections are:

Pinko responds in red.

1. King Klang "Heavydale" - 2 Many DJ's

A short interlude of the same bass riff that was boring and stupid the first time I heard it. I guess I would like it if King Crimson did the same thing. What can I say - I'm a hypocrite. 3/10 Legit (this is from a great DJ mix though)

2. Scissors - Barbara Manning

This song is start off kind of cool, especially because the percussion sounds like snipping scissors. I should probably know who she is, but I don't and don't want to cheat either. Sounds like a chick rock duet - kind of like Mr. Airplane Man. The song is neither awesome nor bad nor totally boring nor attention-grabbing. It might grow on me, but isn't changing enough and there is a little whiny in there. 6/10 Legit, not her best
Indie Pop Rocks band. San Fran native.

3. Iron Man - Black Sabbath

I can't believe I'm listening to this sh*t! It feels like watching an episode of Beavis and Butthead. Yet ... that tune permeates my soul and unleashes the hidden satanic messages from within. Also, it sounds a lot like Rush and my Canadian senses pick up on that and accept it musically. 8/10 Should be a million out of 10

4. Promises - The Buzzcocks

I think I like some songs by the Buzzcocks, but not all of them. It just sounds a little retro and real-punk, not meta-punk. It's not a bad song - good drumming and I like the call and response, but it doesn't make me want to thrash about. 7/10
Legit

5. Rip Rip - David Holmes

Oh baby. This song has the attitude, the funk, and the pimps. The musical interlude goes on a bit, but that's OK. Any song that rips off Queen Another One Bites the Dust is OK by my books. I like that it's not really a rap, but more spoken word. Cool. You man, watch the road white boy! 8/10 You total cobag. This is from the movie "Out of Sight" hence the "rap" is known as dialogue. Did you not recognize Don Cheadle? Uncanny: "No"

6. Zcroom - DJ Lance Lockarm

And in contrast, this song does nothing for me. I don't want to hear the words and I don't care for the pounding drums. And I hate lyrics that go, "So c'mon everybody .....". Oh, even better: "I got a climax waiting for each and every cherry". Oh yeah, do me baby. Lame. 2/10 I think this is some bootleg mashup. Uncanny probably doesn't recognize any of the three songs that make up this one. *sigh*

7. Morning Sun - Dot Allison

Listening to how this song starts, it reminds me of a soundscape like what Fripp and Eno were into. Maybe a little Reich-y minimalist. I think it falls into a subcategory of trance music. Crap, I need to find that electronic music website. There are also words finally half-way through. Yeah, not post-rock at all. I'm surprisingly less into it now that she keeps singing. I like the idea of the voice accompanying the sitar sound without being wordy. I think I could be into her music, though. 6/10 This song is an awesome chill out tune. Uncanny is being a Canadian.

8. Tony Onyango - Kenya Dance Mania

Evidence that these songs are truly randomized. It's hard to have much of an opinion on Kenyan music. I'm sure I'm missing the nuance. It just sounds like World Music to me. It's pleasant and I like the sound of the instruments and rhythm. I'm totally unoffended. The song would get a 7/10 if it ended in half the time it actually lasts. 6.5/10 The key to this Kenyan music is the awesome guitar sounds and rhythm instruments. If Uncanny were allowed to do something else with this on, he would realize that this song is really good and better than average "world music." This CD is about 7 bucks and has all these awesome songs (the CD is Kenya Dance Mania).


9. Welcome - K.M.F.D.M

A very short synth-blazed tune. Thank god it's short. 2/10 Ha ha. I should have made you listen to 10 KMFDM songs.

10. Miss Teen Wordpower - The New Pornographers

"Because nobody knows the wreck of the soul the way that you do". It's perfect. If the old pornographers were as good as these guys, we wouldn't have Republicans anymore. Because the title is just as good as the song, it only seems fair to give this a 10.0/10

11. Backdrifts (Honeymoon is Over) - Radiohead

Not one of the better tracks from Hail to the Thief. It has the right voice stuff going on, but the Kid-A-y instruments don't do it for me. The song is also a little long for the amount of drama it has. But it is Radiohead after all, so even a lesser song is still 7.5/10

12. Those to Come - The Shins

The Shins always sound so good downtempo. They sound as good as any band that has ever existed. I love the picked guitar and harmonica-y synths. The tune is so good. I love the one word phrases and the usage of the word "ether". But the title isn't as good as Miss Teen Wordpower ... so only 10/10

13. Jump - Van Halen

I can't help but remember this song from when it first came out. It was one of the first videos I saw, and I saw it plenty of times. I think at the time it might have sounded a little cheesy, but in retrospect it was just solid rock and roll. The musicianship is pretty good, but it's still an '80s anthem. 7.5/10 Why don't you just jump then, mother**c**r

Bonus: Emotional Rescue - The Rolling Stones

Pinko had to give this to me because I couldn't make the connection between his review published on Song of the Day here. Now that I've heard the song, I remember it. It's good, but not one of their best.
8/10 Yeah, that goes without saying, but is it a sleazy 70's anthem? Yes. 14 billion/10.


And we continue...

The post wherein Three Bulls! aims to prove market theory by our failure.



Three Bulls! currently have this terror cell snack machine under surveillance. It is imperative that you help us free a specific denizen of this al Qaida-like hostage pen. This object is the fuel for our Three Bulls! team members.

You can see our Object of Interest (OoI) in the grainy surveil blow-up.

Dear Readers, here is where you come in. We have some crap for your enjoyment. We solemnly swear that any proceeds exceeding those CafePress will be blowing on china white will be put into direct rescue operations for these Patriotic cheese puffs. You will, however, be held liable for our eventual Type II Diabetes and Colon cancer.

Please click the helpful link in our bourgeois sidebar to get to the rest of the goods. Considering our readership is in the ones, we estimate that our profits will marginally outpace inflation and these Cheetos will be rescued by the time the price hits $3.75 a bag

Some goodies featuring the lovable Sushi:


The natural way of the world is that delightful cartoon characters gain their power of delight by being massively exploited. Three Bulls! has undertaken to make Sushi's wishes reality, and begin its massive commercial exploitation. If only the Medium Lobster had been so savvy, it which delights on a multidimensional scale. Oh, well, Three Bulls! says hot butter to you Mr. Lobster! and Sushi says "Glerm". Click the link on the sidebar to aid in Sushi's delightfulness, your largesse can be seen to benefit this particularly insatiable device. If all goes well, our subsequent sales will be dedicated to that saucy, saucy Take Five! bar, oh how it taunts us so. Please subsidize its yummy destruction.








And we continue...

All Bets Are Off-Friday Musical Mystery Tour-NO CHEATING

1. Pariah-Danielle Dax
Electronic eccentric mistress of late 80s Anglo-club psychedelia. I made that genre up, but she's not describable. I don't like this song. The one yoy may or may not remember from her should be "Big Hollow Man", total genius, but you probably remember her lesser Modern Rock played once or twice "The Id Parade". 2/10 (an oddity)


2. King of the Mountain-Midnight Oil.
Earnest Australian modern rockers. Second single from Blue Sky Mining, probably their last album to legitimately get play. 4/10

3. The Long-Forgotten Fairy Tale-The Magnetic Fields.
One of their more 80s ones from 69 Love Songs, cribbing from Interferon, OMD and New Order, yet totally bloggy. Not my fave, but jaunty enough. Eat this, Killers cobags. 7/10

4. Rekkit-Death in Vegas
One of their bleepy, noisier, boringer ones from Dead Elvis. Death in Vegas are like a less meth more pot version of Chemical Brothers, but this is one of their methy ones. Their best are their chill out ones with dreamy chics singing. Not this one. 4/10

5. Love and Affection-Def Leppard
7th album track from the monstrosity known as Hysteria. Eat me. 400/10. The damage of this pestilence has already been catalogued here.

6. Prophecy Written-Barbara Manning
I don't love this. Indie Pop Rocks made me buy the album and of course I got it at Amoeba, it was listed as out of print. Bay Area Indie darling. 5/10

7. Uncertain Smile (original 12" mix)-The The
With record scratchy bits because I recorded it off vinyl. Looser that the long version of Soul Mining, without the nice piano solo outro from the Squeeze guy, instead and extended marimba? wood block? solo plus retro weird flute and sax solo instead. 10 minutes flat. Matt Johnson is a massively underrated songwriter. I like all The The. Perhaps the one you want to start with is Dusk, maybe the most accesible. I like Soul Mining and Infected.

"A broken soul stares from a pair of watering eyes/
uncertain emotions force an uncertain smile"
8,000,000/10

8. The Gambler-Kenny Rogers.
Continue to eat me. Infinity/10

9. Pet Sounds-The Beach Boys.
Annoying instrumental between amazing songs. Definition of dated. I'm baiting the Uncanny One here. He too can eat me. -1,000,000/10

10. King of Spain, Pt. 2-Galaxie 500.
I think this is boring. When they are amazing they are amazing but I'm not in the mood right now. Plus they just did some Brian Wilson wood block randomly. Yet it stuns me with some cool horns at the end. Saved! 7/10.

11. Acquiesce-Oasis.
My iTunes says f*ck Norbizness and Pinko Punko and all sound detectors in the universe. I still claim to like the song, but hate myself. A B-side and single from The Masterplan. The song that brok Liam's rhyming dictionary.-i/10.

12. The Slow Descent Into Alcoholism-The New Pornographers.
Absolute genius power pop crack genius madness. Just read the title people. Makes a slow descent into alcoholism seem a perfectly jaunty topic for an amazing blast of bouncing goodness. Infinity/10.

And we continue...

Thursday, July 14, 2005

This man is a f*cked up idiot savant.


Maddox, a probable highly functioning autistic, tourette's having fluffy f*cker posts one delectable steaming pile of rudeness every 2-3 months. He is the Rude Pundit with ADHD. I give you his latest, whence he lances the hideous boil of self-referential cliqueness that is the motardo realm called by some "the blogosphere." Three Bulls! resides in the post-o-sphere, hence can sit on the sidelines, rubbing our jolly little tummies, with quiet contentment. Oh, since he's too cool to ever see this, we just borrowed his logo above as a visual aid. He's very understanding. Why can't Maddox use his powers for evil instead of good? He has his own Wikipedia entry here, showing how establishment he has become, which is hilarious on its own. Beloved by fraternity douches everywhere, we find it amusing that low quality acomedic web sites such as yours truly are hot metal pokers into his addled and anxious brain.

And we continue...

Take that Google losers!

Three Bulls! triumphant in the Google turf war over the expression "myah Nun Song". You thought you could outsmart us, nefarious other web pages using said expression? Well you couldn't. Keep on rocking, nerfwads.

myah Nun Song,

Pinko Punko

PS, seriously, try "I'm Feeling Lucky" and then you will know what it is like to put it all on black and hit red. And get molested on your way out the door of Imperial Palace.


And we continue...

Three Bulls! has a bone to pick...

with Spooky Optics. Check out Spooky Optics, it's pretty creepy, then leave comments back here, we'll tell you why! Three Bulls! is trying to encourage a friend to post or blog (whatever he feels confortable with, not that there's anything wrong with either one). So Blogspot blogger Martini357 leaves a nasty comment about a not quite fully-formed post on our sad protege's page. This total cobag doesn't even allow comments on his nonsensical blog. Way to start a debate. Three Bulls hereby awards this fine fellow the Cobag of Freedom Award.

Way to go, cobagger!




And we continue...

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

A Million Monkeys Typing...

...might not come up with Shakespeare, but I guarantee you a million monkeys masturbating would come up with the wank that is this. Respectful Insolence and Pharyngula, delightfully snide science-people types are on the situation. The only difference between these (the bad guys- not Orac at RI and PZ at Pharyngula) fonts of wisdom and 1,000,000 yankin' apes are that the apes are more entertaining, and know to clean up after themselves.

And we continue...

What Hath The Snacking Gods Wrought?

What the f***.

Crossposted in our Delicious or Disgusting section.

When Three Bulls! saw this, they felt like Norbizness walking into Long John Silvers, a holy obligation filled with the fear of a smited colon.

Con: Parents, do you want to make the fattening of your kids educational? Have them stuff their pieholes with these!!

Pro: They're delicious salty yummy pringles, now with 0g trans fat, people!!

Con: Sign of impending rapture?

Pro: Because you have to read them, you eat more slowly, aiding in digestion, plus you use your head, your mind, and your brain while enjoying a friggin' Pringle!!!!




They'd be funnier if they had crazy fortunes on them, or lottery numbers, or propaganda.

What's that you say? What about this?


Q: "Can you run 1/4 mile?"

What an amazing fitness goal, maybe the verb should be "roll" or "ooze" instead of "run" after Mr. P is done being your fitness trainer.

A: "No f***ing way after eating a can of these for "research"

After continuing research I see that Mr. P is also eager to invade my privacy concerning "how many jumping jacks can [I] do?" Thank you, evil advertising overlords, this will effectively help Mr. P say to parents "it is safe that your children be raised under my guidance, not only will they be getting a potato overlord, but a personal fitness guru, and you may confidently let them be plumpened with this overly salty potato product for my alien masters."

Verdict: Push


And we continue...

Monday, July 11, 2005

Crosspost from Song of the Day

Marcelo P. Camargo Edition-

Marcelo liked lots of kinds of music. Lots meaning even up to and including Celine Dion. His favorite artist was Tori Amos, to the point he was quite proud that he had all of her albums and singles, and many imports and bootlegs too. He definitely liked her music, but he also thought she was a total babe. It was probably her dark side that he liked. He was as mild mannered as anyone could be but he also like Goth tunes. I would ask if you like Tori at all to put your favorite Tori song and why in the comments over at Song of the Day, because it is something that Marcelo would appreciate.

And we continue...

Nós faltá-lo-emos (We will miss you)

Marcelo P. Camargo, MD. 1958-2005

During a year long stay in a particular place, Mr. and Mrs. Pinko and the Smokey Dog came to know the kind of neighbor that is usually associated with situational comedies. Three Bulls! do not generally believe in Heaven or such a thing, however we do know that there is a statistically good chance that Marcelo will be in someplace nice. You see, Marcelo was baptized into many many churches. Our favorite story about him was that when he first moved to the US from Brazil (he was born Catholic) he rented a small room in Chicago from a religious family, I think they were AME, or some sort of Baptist. He barely knew any English, but the family would always have him over and feed him and they took him to church. And a baptism happened along the way. When he would move to a new town, he would usually start attending a neighborhood church to meet some people and have a routine, and we joked that he would get baptized "just in case." When we knew him he was attending the Episcopal Church down the street and also attending singles functions at a Mormon church. He really just wanted to meet people and make friends, and we joked that he was covering all his bases. He was quirky, super friendly, always there with a kind word or a tool to borrow, with endless time to help you with your problems or to just shoot the breeze. Constantly driving around on his motorcyle, Marcelo was basically just looking for someone to talk to. Marcelo had been divorced, lived alone and was quite lonely. He was always happy to hang out, even for a couple of minutes. Only in retrospect are the signs of his isolation completely apparent. He had difficulty dating, he had trouble sleeping. He had been drinking. He was distressed about his job and financial situation. Much of this had happened after we had moved on. Of course we meant to stay in touch, but as usual it can be hard. Our last word from him was when he, rememberign us fondly, had decided to make a dog house for the Smokey Dog, and ship it to us, so many miles away. We only just found out that Marcelo took his own life May 2, 2005, because we were going to be in town and were trying to track him down. Three Bulls! do not want you to feel sad about this, we only want you to consider the possibly unheeded and painful cost of depression, and to reach out to those in its grip, whether you can accomplish something for those people or not.

And we continue...

Scottie!! They're killing you!

Scottie McClellan, remember the robot voice- use the robot voice!

And we continue...

Monday Goldberg Theatre:

EPISODE I
"A Long Deserved Rest?"
[Click image for full size]



And we continue...

Saturday, July 09, 2005

You wanted it, you got it.


Here is a preview of a new Three Bulls! feature. We proudly present our Monday Serial The Jonah Goldberg Memorial Science Theatre. For a little taste of the action, here's a look at our first series GALAXY STAR QUEST. Consider this series paid for by your comments. You said "funnier", we agreed. You said "try harder", we said "we will", you said "more kittens", we said "not a chance, cobags". Series will start this Monday, if there is enough demand. Click images for slightly larger size- work with us, people! Enjoy!

And a sneak peek at a later episode!!



And we continue...

A serious post about the topic below, read, have a minute of buzzkill and then let's go back to Gay, Not Gay? THE FUNNEST GAME IN THE WORLD

*Edited, with funny at the end*
In the self referential blogworld place, it seems quite common to use language in a meta-insulting way. I'm talking about the un-PC use of derogatory terms against adeversaries that might find the terms particularly insulting, and this goes beyond embracing the language to diffuse its stigma.

I am talking about the use of insults against the wingies, that they must be "gay" or the rampant "repressed homosexuality" on the right side of internet and society. This is not to say that it repressed homosexuality isn't rampant as evidenced by the seemingly unstoppable torrent or stories about hypocritical or repressed Conservative personalities. What I am referring to is the use of gay language as a form of battery against these individuals. One form of this is evidenced by The Rude Pundit, who gets a pass, because in this case the language is used as metaphor for exploitation and does not really seem to be gay or straight, and such use has its antecedents in several ancient cultures, see poems of Catullus for examples, or ancient Roman graffiti.

What I really mean is giggle filled discussions about Powerline, specifically John Hinderaker ("Hindrocket") and the other guy ("Big Trunk"). It is all well and good to discuss possibility unintended meanings of their ridiculous names, but it usually comes down to the fact that "they are sooo gay" in langauge that suggests that there is something very negative about that, even when it comes from gay people.

The worst examples are the stuff that Andrew Sullivan and Michelle Malkin have to put up with. Sullivan does write irrationally, he contradicts himself, and can be emotional. This is always used as evidence for "what a drama Queen" he is, capital Q. While it is possible he is subscribing himself to a stereotype, he is constantly being described as an effeminate, hysterical gay male, and language is used that insinuates that things both gay and female are negative. Malkin constantly receives female and ethnic insults, and Ann Coulter receives female insults. I realize it is because they are horrible, horrible people and we cannot literally think of anything worse to say to them.

Many times the insults come from gay, female or ethnic minorities themselves, because these are the very people that know how hurtful these insults can be or people think that calling someone something that they would personally hate would be a most effective insult. To make a long story short, calling some homophobe a faggot might be fun, and might even be true in the sense that they might very well be gay, doesn't do anyone any favors, because you are reinforcing the fact that the word "gay" or whatever can be an insult even if it isn't to the person using it. Using someone's self-hatred against them might only serve to legitimaize the hatred in their minds, and if they never get over it, they might just spread it instead.

EDIT
New gender, ethnic-free terms for:
Michelle Malkin: Colostomy Bag (Cobag) for short. Usage: "What a cobag." "Total cobagger." "Cobag central." "Don't be a cobag."

Andrew Sullivan: Bran Muffin. Makes you want to go to the bathroom. Seems gender neutral. Ethnically neutral (its not like we're calling him a bran scone, or biscuit, for that matter).

Ann Coulter: The Eagles of Punditry. Cuz I f*cking hate the Eagles. (Name that film...)


And we continue...

The intricacies of sexuality in the blogosphere

Re: discussion (in comments) at Republic of Dogs vis a vis (whatever that means) the complicated sexual politics, role playing, genderizement, and fetishism digitized in the blogosphere. Between the sexual posturing at pseudomasculinized electronic spheres of influence like Powerline and LGF one can discern a simple set of guidelines, which we shall term the "King Missile" theses (adults only), and they are these:

"If you blog that is gay. If you blog anonymously that is gay. If you are an anonymous gay blogger out of the closet, that is straight, even if you blog about gay porn. I know, confusing. If you post at Three Bulls! you are straight, although you seem pretty gay. Especially when walking and talking at Trader Joe's, discussing how awesome it is when the delicious juice of a crisp, ripe Asian pear dribbles down your chin and when you buy a mesh Hawaiian shirt in P-town where the vendor selling it to you says "When you go holey you never go back" and you say "I know!!!!". I know. Super gay. Yet totally straight. This is the difference between posting and blogging. If you blog at Powerline, that is gay. When you use pseudonyms on your gay blog, that is straight, but when you use your real name because your pseudonym seems gay, that is gay, because you were straight before but now you are in the closet. Little Green Footballs seem gay, but are not. They reproduce asexually. More guidelines from our "Gay, Not Gay" textual resource from King Missile:

"I saw an episode of the Jerry Springer show and the topic was "Tranvestites and the Men Who Love Them." And the guy who was on with his "girlfriend" was saying "To me, this is a beautiful woman. She's got a perfect body, beautiful blonde hair, everything. I love her, and I love making love to her. Now I ask you, does that make me gay?"
Most of the audience thought so, and so did I, but it got me thinking about what is or isn't gay.

Discussing sex with a guy is gay.
Discussing sex with a woman is straight, even telling a woman "Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to suck a cock" is straight.
Sports are gay, especially contact sports, unless you're the only guy on both teams, in which case it is straight.
Gyms are always gay, because afterwords, in the locker room, you're showering with guys, and that is gay.
Watching p*rnography alone is neutral, like eating a sandwich. It's neither straight nor gay.
Watching p*rnos with one or more other guys in the room, no matter how many other women are also in the room, is gay.
Watching p*rn, even gay p*rn, with one or more women ONLY is straight.

Here's an interesting one: kissing a gay guy on the cheek, or having him kiss YOU on the cheek is neutral, as long as the guy is out of the closet. Hugging and/or kissing a straight guy . . . is gay.
See, look, I . . . I know I'm homophobic, but not about gay guys. They don't bother me at all. It's straight guys who don't know they're gay.
They f**k my sh*t right up.
Like a guy calls me up and says "A bunch of us guys are gonna sit around in our underwear and watch a football game and drink beer and eat chips, and, you know, maybe wrestle with each other a little, you know, just us guys! You wanna come over?"
And I'm like "No."

OK, you've got a guy sucking your dick, even if he's dressed like a beautiful woman, even if he's got the best breast implants you've ever seen, even if you're saying "Suck it b*tch, I know you like it, you sl*t, you wh*re," that's gay.
Adversely, if a woman straps on a dildo and you're dressed like a woman and you're suckin' her cock and she's sayin' "You like it, don't you, you like sucking my dick, you little f**king faggot" and she rolls you over and f**ks you in the ass and says "you love it, you little pussy boy, you love getting f**ked in the ass, I bet you wish I was a man, I bet you wish this was a cock, you f**king faggot" and you're getting off on this like you've never gotten off before . . .
that's still straight.
But then, when you go off to the bar, and you discuss this, or any other sexual experience with any other guys, that's gay.

Here's the most interesting one:
Sucking a guy's cock, can, under certain rare circumstances, be straight.
Let's say you've gotten into a betting game with a woman, and the bet is whoever loses has to be the other's sex slave for the night, the kind of thing that happens in Penthouse Forum all the time, and you lose, and the woman makes you have sex with another guy, that's not gay.

I don't know exactly why, but it's not."


And we continue...

Friday, July 08, 2005

All Chick Friday Musical Audit

In light of growing and compelling evidence that I tend not to like female musicians, I have prepared a special music audit of only the most estrogenic random tracks from my iPod. Flame away!

1. Ghost Writing - Neko Case

Neko Case is so damned hot and talented and awesome, she kind of deserves her own deity category. Still, for simplicity sake, I will consider her a mortal woman. This song is one of the best from Blacklisted, her best CD. Don't ask why my favourite songs keep popping up randomly. The song is slow, bluesy, and sexy. Surprisingly, this track reminds me a little of a Kingsbury Manx song. Read 3Bulls long enough, and you'll hear a lot more about Kingsbury Manx. But for this song ... 10/10

2. Keep on Breathing - The Delgados

This track is one of Emma Pollock's so it's better than the usual Delgados song. Taken from their newest, last, and supremely awesome CD Universal Audio, this is a great song. It's dark and disturbing and the musically a little abrupt sounding. It's impossible to extract an ounce of happiness from this song - the most we can hope is to keep on breathing. Half way through the track, it slows way down and becomes a smoky and sad ballad. Her voice is great. 9/10

3. Around my Smile - Hope Sandoval and the Warm Inventions

Just as good as Mazzy Star. Her voice is extra sultry in this track and it's slow and sad. Notice a trend here? I'm probably going to like it. It reminds me of a Gorky's Zygotic Mynci song that I really like. The best musical parts are the bells that come in midway and the faint bassy male accompanying voice. Slow Core never sounded better. 8/10

4. Tropical-Iceland - Fiery Furnaces

This is the version from the EP and not Gallowsbird's Bark. Therefore it's even better. But this song just screams cool. Icy icy cool. There's no point trying to classify the sound of Fiery Furnaces, but this is one of the straight rock songs, not the 8-part operetta kind. That doesn't mean that it doesn't have some crazy piano and percussion running through the middle. This song should (and possibly does) close every concert they do. The end is whacked good. 9/10

5. Pavlov's Bell - Aimee Mann

There was zero chance that Aimee Mann was not going to show up in this revue. This track is from Lost in Space, and is one of the slightly poorer songs on a great CD. The lyrics just aren't quite sharp or mean enough, and the instrumentation is a little uninspired. The constant refrain of "But we can talk about it" reeks whiny. Sorry Aimee, this might be the only song of your's that ranks a ..... 7/10

6. The Man with 100 Cells - Stereolab

Awesome title for a track about Dubya. Or maybe it's about something else. Who can tell if they're even singing in English or French. But this is a nice breezy track from Margerine Eclipse, a CD that should be under-rated if everyone weren't so clued-in to how awesome Stereolab are. It does get a little loungy at times, but the nice transition in the middle keeps in interesting. 7.5/10

7. Witness - The Delgados

Taken from The Great Eastern, this song typifies a Delgados song. It drips with regret and hopelessness. The build-up to the chorus is just great. Emma's voice is just so clear and noble, I desperately want to reach out and reassuringly put my hand on her shoulder. Very good track. 8/10

8. Huddle Formation - The Go! Team

Who knows how to categorize this music, but it has some pretty good girl power sampling going on. Great beat, great cool, and very danceable. I don't know why Go! Team isn't massive. Even includes hand claps. 8.5/10

9. Sweet-Lovin' Man - The Magnetic Fields

One of the rare girl tracks from MF. I suppose the band is all about sweet-lovin' men for all. It's got an synthy cheesy sound going on in the background, but the melody is good enough to not make that too annoying. Lyrics are, I presume, intentionally insipid. Kind of fun in its own right. 7.5/10

10. Oh, My Girl - Jesse Sykes and the Sweet Hereafter

This is the title track, and not the best song from a pretty damn good album. I heard Jesse Sykes perform along with Iron and Wine, and they are ideally paired. Her voice is so gritty, I thought it could be a guy when I first heard it. The song has a nice alt-country twangy thing going on and (go figure) is slow and sad. The fiddle makes it extra melancholic and the slide guitar makes it extra good. 8/10

And we continue...

PZ Myers, on friggin fire.

PZ, you might want to put yourself out, you are torching the place. PZ is dealing with the latest hole in your head regarding a New Republic article on conservative pundits' thoughts on evolution. Noone mentioned the Flying Spaghetti Monster, but it is clear they have been touched by his noodly appendage. Here and here for Pharygulic goodness. Read to the end PZ and fans and get a prize!

Three Bulls! take on the situation:

Finding something stupid that somebody said to counterbalance your own idiocy does not make an equivalency. Nor does it make talking about your empty braincase a wedge issue for our side. You are dumb, and this discussion is over. The Harvard President could talk about big black dildos and freebasing Swiss Miss Hot Cocao, and this would still not deflect from your worship of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Have a little pride in your faith, losers. You have been touched by His Noodly Appendage or not, there is no maybe.
Behold the sea creature goodness, and delight in your prize. These starfish thingies remind me of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Therefore He designed them in his image. QED, turdblossoms!

Now if you want to have a serious, separate discussion about evolutionary psychology, we will put our serious caps on and have that, OK Volokhians? We're just playing offensive here, but we do appreciate the effort put into some of your posts, and the tone at VC is usually much more measured and even, but it seems like you are creating a diversionary measure, and this we get stinky about it. Cheers!


And we continue...

Friday Musical Poop Shoot

First, two bonus tracks from London bands in honor of Norbiz's London list today. I wish this were for a different reason involving a distinct lack of killing. Nix, DB, Jude- hope everything is OK, and if you are, think of those that aren't, both at home and far away.

Bonus 1) The Violet Hour-Clientele. Incredibly retro haunting psychadelia from this tasteful London band. Seems to recall a more innocent time, which of course probably never existed. Still sad, but it the "I choose to be sad because of some girl way", not in the "we are destined for a lake of clusterf*ck" way. *sigh*. 10/10

Bonus 2) Girl at the Bus Stop-My Drug Hell. Another retro ditty, featuring: snow, an unknown pretty girl, an innocent proposal and a soul deflating declination. A pop gem, the idea of which for the moment has been rendered non-existent. This bands highpoint was probably that 10 bars of this song were used in an Miller Genuine Draft commercial, before people noticed music in commercials. Part of an ad campaign that also featured a (great) song by Boston garage DJ Land of the Loops sampling the movie The Brave Little Toaster (Phil Hartman RIP). I'm sure the unpaid summer intern running that campaign was rendered for sausage. 10/10



Tiny little bit of cheating. After reinstalling my OS for 7 hours we're utilizing the suck free, but still possibly marginal pile of songs. Do a clean install on Tiger people, don't just upgrade.

1. Planet Caravan-Black Sabbath.
I love this album (Paranoid), because you can hear the heaviness of Sabbath, but Ozzy is not yet a cartoon. This is a nice psychadelic mellow one. 8/10

2. It's a Hit-Rilo Kiley.
Pop genius. Lyrics here. Memorize and buy, and think of Dear Leader. 10/10

3. Somebody's Baby-Mr. Airplane Man.
Boston electric blues babes bash it out. Their new one is great, Moanin' from a couple years back too (whence this song comes). 6/10

4. Just Like You Said it Would Be-Sinead O'Connor.
Yeah she's crazy, whatever. The Lion and the Cobra is amazing. Remind yourself of that. 7/10

5. King of Spain-Galaxie 500
Rykodisc rereleased the albums by Boston indie greats Galaxie 500. My favorite is On Fire, while this is from Today, but you can't go wrong with any of them. Slow, atmospheric indie chamber rock. Featuring Luna's (RIP) Dean Wareham and Damon and Naomi from Damon and Naomi. 8/10

6. Never Leave a Job Half Done-Pedro the Lion
The only song I have by him, a driving indie pop gem. Might be about Jesus. Who knows. 8/10

7. Chump Change-The New Pornohraphers
The 8th best song of TNPs second album, yet still a 10/10. Esoteric art power pop- one of the Dan Bejar songs (the band Destroyer). Others on the album are sang by the inestimable Carl Newman and the alt-country goddess Neko Case.

8. Leave the Planet-Galaxie 500.
From On Fire. Their first. 6/10

9. Twist and Crawl-Death in Veags.
From Dead Elvis, which is a smattering of styles by a couple of DJs. Think less manic Chemical Brothers with more of their chill out side, plus some retro bits and this Jamaican dubby one. 6/10

10. Scorpio Rising-Death in Vegas.
One of the Gallaghers from Oasis is on this. It has no point. 2/10 for that fact alone. Except it is not Oasis who have slid into absolute decrepitude, so really 5/10. And I'm not saying they were ever good, just acceptable cartoons, like Thundercats, as opposed to G-Force. Or the other way around.

More stuff at Song of the Day

And we continue...

Thursday, July 07, 2005

F*ck the Canadian Curling Association



Somebody in the blogosphere needs to express the outrage that I know all Canadians share with me about the Canadian Curling Association backing out of their TV deal with CBC. Actually I'm sure a bunch of people have, but who the hell has time to read the rantings of insane Canadians? Anyhow, the nation can't take this. We just had to endure an entire year without the NHL. To Americans, that's like not invading a new Middle-East country for a whole year. The only thing we had left was curling. And who wants to watch curling on anything but the nation's public TV channel, CBC? Now mind you, the CBC screwed up coverage left and right, but that's their perogative, right? A contract is a contract. So for the f*ckheads that run the CCA, I say good day sir. If I can't watch my curling on CBC, I'm just not going to watch it at all. And believe me, I'm not the only person that sport is going to lose. There are dozens out there just like me. You better believe it fat pigs at CCA.



And we continue...

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

Logic Challenge, i.e. We Get Letters

Lou Gramm of Foreigner writes the Three Bulls!:
And I know that it must be the woman in you
That brings out the man in me
I know I can’t help myself
You’re all that my eyes can see
And it feels like the first time
Like it never did before


Feels like the first time
Like we’ve opened up the door
Feels like the first time
Like it never will again, never again

That sure is sweet, but I'm cofused. It feels like the first time, yet it ALSO feels like it never, ever did before. Additionally, it feels like a door has been opened. That's three feels like, and two are mutually exclusive with the other one. Lou Gramm of Foreigner, you mystify me. Please continue.

Feels like the first time, it feels like the first time
It feels like the very first time, very, very, it feels
It feels like the first time, oh it feels like the first time
It feels like the very first time
Open up the door, won’t you open up the door? yeah


Oh, HELL no, Lou Gramm of . Let us bow our heads in prayer.

And we continue...

We love you, we honestly love you...

Adelphia.net reader!

And we continue...

I Heart Blogger.

Tell us why you too heart blogger, or what you'd want to do to Blogger if you got it alone. Where would you pleasure Blogger first? Would you tell Blogger to do something to itself? Even something physically impossible? I knew you would. Share below.

And we continue...

Monday, July 04, 2005

Karl Rove-My Spiritual Locker Partner


Our first serious post. As serious as anything can be that mentions the film Real Genius.


Let me share with you, dear readers, a depressing brush with the power behind our President, our minister of mean, highly functioning autistic, possible fluffy *ucker, Karl Rove. The article we will be discussing today is a three year old piece of blowjobbery about Dear Karl from the Deseret News, a newspaper probably about 70% as corrupt as The Washington Times. The D-News is one of two papers in Salt Lake City, UT, where I grew up for better or ill, and is owned by the Mormon Church. Actually I shouldn’t have to tell you that, descriptions of ownership in Utah are actually opt-out, you only need to say something if a person place or thing is not owned by “The Church.”

Let us begin:

Rove's Utah roots help him defy the odds

Copyright 2002 Deseret News

By Lee Davidson
Deseret News Washington correspondent

WASHINGTON — Karl Rove rocks with laughter in his White House office as he describes the unorthodox strategy that won a race most people figured was impossible. He is not describing his direction of George W. Bush's runs for Texas governor and president of the United States. Nor is it his helping Texas Republicans to take over all its 29 statewide offices just a few years after losing all but one. It isn't even this year's electrifying GOP gains in Congress, which pundits and opponents credit him with orchestrating.
The smiles come from Rove's 1968 run for student council president at Olympus High School in Utah.

The first brick-shaped sh*t to remodel my round bunghole due to this was my state's claiming of Karl Rove for its very own.

As many from smaller, more rural, or more whack job states may now, when you are not from a big state you are insecure about your little state, or your big empty state. It is the small town feel, where "local boy makes good" stories provide a feel-good buzz for the self-conscious citizens. Except Utah has that on a state level. Watching State officials literally trip over themselves to bribe International Olympic Committee members for the Winter Olympics was a sorry ass sight, to be made worse by getting caught. "Well, the Japanese did it the last Olympics" was the excuse, "well they didn't get caught so we're still small time" thought I. I halfway felt Utah tried to claim Ted Bundy for killing people within our borders. I felt a little bit of pride when Jane's Addiction used a sample of Ted talking about Salt Lake City in their song "Ted Just Admit It." I felt we had made the big time. We've had psychos left and right, Ron and Dan Lafferty, Mark Hoffman, The Unabomber came through here. So there is a massive insecurity about how our little oddball state is viewed by the outside world and a craving for acceptance. Therefore I was not surprised that the D-News claimed Rove for our state, but that he had spent any time in Utah at all (indeed 10-12th grades, and a couple of years at the U. (of Utah, is there any other?).

And that brings me to the second sh*t brick to load my trousers. Karl Rove went to my high school and he is telling the world some jolly anecdote about it.

You see, I graduated from Olympus High School. I just found out that Karl Rove was my spiritual locker partner. Perhaps we could sing the fight song together at a reunion. The first verse is exceptionally stirring:

Here at Olympus where the Titans grow,
You’re gonna find yourself on winners row.
There’s not another can half compare,
If you’re not from Olympus, You’re from nowhere.
If we did meet at a reunion, he'd probably be there to Basque-whack someone. Do you know how depressing this situation is? I just know he was in debate.

Let me digress for a moment to discuss Olympus High. It is a suburban school that has been open for probably around 40 years, and was enough on the edge of some development that there were occasional vacant lots and fields when I was growing up, and new subdivisions when I went there.

Let's got to the tale of the tape.

Here is some school data from Utah School Tree.org. Let's get inside where Karl spent his randy teenage years. Here is the ethnic make up:
We won't pretend you can read this, the data on the left are the ethnic make up of my high school, the middle is the district, the right is the state-wide ethnic make-up. Pretend that blue is white, and you get the idea for this red, red state. Now think back 30 odd years, and imagine even more blue, the bluest of cerulean blue and that is how white the school probably was. I would add it was probably more middle class back then. The middle class is definitely shrinking, and I wouldn't consider it all gone, but it is shrinking even in Utah, a relatively cheap state in which to live. My guess would be school wasn't as affluent in Karl's day as it is now. Anyway, here's some more data:

This is a graph that represents the Tarbaby:Rastafarian ratio of Olympus High. I think we can confidently say it was 0:0 in Karl's time. Let's us continue with our story:

It — plus some later mentoring by, surprisingly, some liberal Democrats in Utah — taught him how hard work and unexpected moves can help underestimated longshots win against long odds. That's useful in working with Bush, whom Rove says "is one of those people who, for whatever reason, is chronically underestimated."
Rove, Bush's top political strategist, says that no one looking at him back in 1968 would expect him to win that student senate race against a popular opponent who had been president of both their sophomore and junior classes.
"I was the complete nerd. I had the briefcase. I had the pocket protector. I wore Hush Puppies when they were not cool. I was the thin, scrawny little guy. I was definitely uncool," he says. He spent his free time in the library preparing for the debate team. [Quel suprise!] But the teacher adviser to the student senate, Pat Ferrell, talked him into running. With her help, they recruited "the popular captain of the basketball team and an incredibly attractive senior girl to be chairmen of my campaign."

[Pat Ferrell was one of the most popular teachers in school. She passed away from cancer when I was there- I never had a class with her, but she was the Carpe Diem type. Coincidentally, why don't they make movies about awesome teachers that inspire their students to great evil?]

Next, he said, they found maybe the most talented artist in the school to make the campaign posters. "We made our signs by cutting words out of magazines. It was exceptionally witty and funny — and nerdy," he says. But the big challenge would be in the school elections assembly. Rove said his opponent, John Sorensen, "had always won by having himself delivered to the podium to give his speech in an outhouse. John Sorensen — get it? John (a synonym for outhouse)?" Rove expected a repeat and says he knew it would be tough to outdo that. So his campaign sneaked a Volkswagen into school hallways by removing some doors. "I made my entrance into the auditorium in a Volkswagen Bug filled with incredibly attractive girls. Two girls on each arm delivered me to the podium," he said.

Uh, not at my school. Attractive maybe, but you couldn't really tell, it was like we had Sharia or something.

Rove said the stunt "inflamed the principal" but helped the underdog win the unwinnable race with hard work, finding new ways to spread his message, and doing the unexpected — mixed with luck.

What the crazy is this? Did this even happen? I went to that great school- home of the Titans- my sister won her Student Body Secretary race by the mere inclusion of AC/DC into her election assembly slide show, and it wasn't even Bon Scott! This school was dorky enough that a 7-11 across the streetwent out of business, and I doubt it was for selling alcohol to minors, people were too slack to even loiter in an econimically productive way. Not wanting to be too much of a lame ass and demand an investigation into this election lie that engendered many election lies to come, but does this story sound familiar? Has Karl seen Real Genius too many times? It is clear he does not imagine himself as Val Kilmer, but does that make George Bush Val Kilmer? Will Karl go on to talk about how they built a transmitter into poor John Sorenson's head?

Karl: "John Sorenson, this is God. I want you to stop pulling this outhouse gag. For My sake, you are 27 years old and you pull that sh*t every year. Oh, and I'm gonna get you drafted, taken prisoner by the North Vietnamese, released, elected Senator just for you to try this shit again so I can tell people that you fathered a colored baby out of wedlock and talked to the VC. And I'm gonna make up some fake flyers having you attack me, to make you look bad. And that is if you are lucky. I might just tell everyone you're a pedophile."

John: "Oh my God!"

Karl: "You're talking to him. And, John? I'm going to need you to stop touching yourself."

John: "It is you, God!"

This is the cafeteria where all sorts of hijinks occurred. Karl and Chris were building this laser for Prof. Hathaway. Karl had a crush on this French foreign exchange student. She gave him the confidence to ski the K-12. Ricky wanted to molest her and his mom was a total bitch. Oh, I'm confused, that was Karl's junior high. The girl here was Jordan. She was cool. Smart too, and did she ever put out. Anyway, stupid Kent, I mean John Sorenson tried to put the kibbosh on things. But they showed him. They reassembled his car and some stuff. Plus they made ice and snow inside, even though Salt Lake gets 150 million inches of snow every year. Also they filled Prof. Hathaway's house with popcorn and popped it with this big laser in space. It was awesome. I wish it were like that when I went to school there. I had a kit kat and a coke everyday for lunch and had to work at Arby's after school. Real cool, *sswipes, no one has ever written "*uck you" in Arby's sauce before or stuffed a Beef 'N Cheddar into a ketchup bottle. Couldn't you tell I was hurting on the inside?? Good times.

Rove, 51, said those are among the many political lessons he learned, and still uses, from the five years he lived in Utah. "It wasn't a long period of time, but it was a great period of time," he said.


Among these lessons was that you need to hook up with Lazlo for the laser to work. Lazlo was funny. He lived down in the steam tunnels. He was still there when I was there, he just was disguised as a kindly janitor.

Rove's family, which lived earlier in Colorado and Nevada, moved to Utah when he was entering high school so his father could take a job with Vitro chemical. Rove would later attend the University of Utah for two years before leaving to chase political opportunities elsewhere.
But, quite literally, the falling dominoes of political connections that led him to the White House began at Olympus High School with a teacher-mentor named Eldon Tolman.
"He has since departed. But he was everything I am not. He was a liberal Democrat. He loved labor unions. He was an official of the Utah Education Association and was a huge Lyndon Johnson Democrat," Rove says. But Tolman also inspired a love of politics in Rove — and literally pushed Rove into campaigning. "In 1968, he said everybody else could get an 'A' in his class by doing the course work. . . . But he said if I wanted an 'A,' I had to get involved in a political campaign," Rove says. So he did. "I was the Olympus High chairman for (former U.S. Sen.) Wallace F. Bennett's re-election campaign, where he was opposed by the dynamic, young, aggressive political science professor at the University of Utah, J.D. Williams." Williams would also later become another mentor of Rove, and Bennett's son — current Sen. Bob Bennett, R-Utah — would become a friend. The experience pushed over more dominoes toward the White House. The next came when friends from the Bennett campaign, and an internship with the Utah Republican Party, helped Rove land a job on a Senate campaign in Illinois. That, in turn, led to a job as executive director of the national College Republicans. That led to Rove later being elected chairman of the College Republicans just as George Herbert Walker Bush became chairman of the Republican National Committee. The senior Bush met and liked Rove and hired him as an aide.


So here I learn that he is pals with Bob Bennett, the tool behind the Franklin Quest Dayplanner scam, and that Bennett's dad was also a Senator, and now I know that he doesn't even have the saving grace of having been Deep Throat. What can his point be? I really feel like Karl is only saying this to twist the shiv deeper- I mean, he was forced to go into politics, not because of some expedient situation, but from the kindly ministrations of a card carrying capital-L Liberal? So, he condescends to think warmly of "liberals" that looked beyond his riduclous Nixon crush born of McCarthyite longings no doubt, and pushed him to do more, to be more, and yet coldly rewards their memory and efforts with this now famous speech of liberal treachery. Given current events, one now might view this as a preemptive attack, Rove is the master of attacking from a defensive position. He will even orchestrate attacks against himself as to appear the victim. One gets the sense one is being played, toyed with. This is too rich! (this was my Howler homage). I digress.
Let's jump ahead:

But [Karl] has won most everything possible since then, using that Utah-taught hard work. But, in true fashion of Utahns who hate braggarts, he won't take any credit for the political treasures he has helped others win. The most he will do is say, "I just happened to be in the right place at the right time and was lucky."

Astounding. A guy spends five years in my state, and we claim that his success in evil is due to some sort of Utah-specific work ethic, and I didn't know that we are compelled by state law to hate uppity folks and braggarts. That's good to know. I did not receive the memo. Apparently our state is too good to put fluoride in drinking water, but chemicals for mind and mood control are just fine. I just threw up in my mouth. Excuse me. Here we have the piece de resistance. A State so desperate for acclaim amidst the cesspool of its self-created conservative and freakazoid backwater that it is willing to attribute the ethics-free shenanigans of an Alex P. Keaton on steroids played for zero laughs to the hard work ethic of our delightful state. WHA? Good luck, douches! Let's have a quilting bee for his prison cell!*

*He's going to screw us again, at this moment the DOJ is being filled with popcorn, ADA Hathway is unawares as the Grand Jury Laser is being repositioned over his very office.**

**Cue Tears for Fears, the movie's about to end. "Welcome to my life/there's no turning back- dun duh- do doot do doot do doot...."
More .

Good guy round up: here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here.

Others: here, here, here, here, here. Need some hate mail so we can stop pulling our punches.

Rove Hos: here.

And we continue...