2003 / 2004 / 2005 / 2006 / 2009
updated June 18, 2009
Master�s Versus Meatwad
Yesterday, I felt like conducting a Net-search of F., a romantic partner of mine from five years ago. So I conducted that search and discovered that according to her alma mater�s website, she had moved from Western Pennsylvania (where I live) to pursue a master�s degree at a prestigious-sounding institution several hundred miles away. Not only that, but she had just returned from teaching in the Middle East, and she planned to return there next year.
So, what have I done with my life lately? Well, I�ve just about finished writing my novel about creepy, dysfunctional teenagers in 1979; and I�ve...uh...seen the live-action episode of Aqua Teen Hunger Force; and...eh...I�ve posted this note onto the GeoSpaceBook.
Other facts about F.: she was a poetess from a privileged background--well, privileged compared to mine, not that I grew up feasting upon air caviar in my cardboard mansion. She never flaunted her economic status, though once when I read aloud a piece from a fashion magazine, she did correct my pronunciation of �dressage,� an upper-class word unfamiliar to me at the time. �Dreh-sawzh,� she told me, not �dressidge.� (I neglected to ask if she�d ever done dressage; maybe she�d never done it but had instead bothered to learn language more diligently than I had.)
Friday, May 29, 2009
No Garfield Assassination Here
Garfield, signed by someone probably signing for Jim Davis, is the perfect comic strip.
Most other comic strips contain watered-down, uncomprehending, or incomprehensible (or any combination thereof) topical references in a desperate attempt to remain relevant, as if those strips had ever had anything relevant to say. The irrelevance of these comic strips had given them their quaint charm, the endless (and apolitical) unironic gags about lazy husbands and spendthrift wives and golfing and medieval torture--ahem, Wizard of Id--providing comfort in the same way that a befuddled uncle whose wardrobe or cultural references haven't changed in decades, yet who still considers himself hep, provides comfort and stability (and an easy target of ridicule for younger relatives).
Today's comics, however, now make supersonically-outdated, Leno-esque jokes about YouTube, MySpace, Twitter, waterboarding, the Octomom, the latest brainless (and pantyless) young starlet, et cetera. Even The Wizard of Id, which allegedly takes place in the Middle Ages, has joked about the flatlining performance of 401(k)'s (but not about waterboarding, for some peculiar reason; one would think Dick Cheney-style interrogation techniques would provide a reliable source of mirth for that dungeon-centric strip)!
However, the ouside world never intrudes, and has never intruded, into Garfield. The titular gluttonous, slothful, anthropomorphic orange cat has spent this week wearing a sombrero so large it covers his entire head. See Garfield take a catnap inside his sombrero! See him carry around nacho dip inside the sombrero's rim!
Before this, Garf spent the week making fun of nature. ("Oh, to be a rock.") He has also spent weeks spattering spiders with a rolled-up newspaper, or insulting his ostensible owner Jon, or insulting rural folk, or eating lasagna, or sleeping, or doing anything else unrelated to current life. Even computers rarely appear in Garfield, to give you an idea of the strip's amazing hermeticism, which permits Jim Davis to market this property more easily, with no American cultural references to rewrite for international markets. Garfield's very effective vacuity thus helps stimulate the worldwide economy!
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Maroon 5, on a Scale of One to Four
I accidentally fell onto my left elbow in Pittsburgh the night of Wednesday, March 4. As a result, my left arm developed some gigantic, rapidly-spreading, Prince's-bifocal-frames-style purple bruises; swelled to the size of one of those hot-air balloons on your parents' favorite inspirational poster; and remained bent at a forty-five-degree angle, turning yours truly into Gee Ommetry, the lovable geometry mascot sans the wacky, kazoo-centric theme music and the multimillion-dollar merchandising deal.
So last Monday, March 9, I had my elbow X-rayed. The diagnosis: I had multiply fractured my ulna. On March 11 my orthopedist said, judging from the X-rays, that my elbow had started healing fairly well, and that I might not need surgery, but he wanted me to have a CAT scan to make sure. "We're not out of the woods yet," he said, a clich�d but very scary statement.
So on March 12, I had the CAT scan. But I had to wait an excruciating six days, until my next orthopedist's appointment, today, for the results. The doc told me...............I didn't need surgery, that I could just wear a cast. A nearly full-arm cast that has greatly slowed down my typing speed, but at least I could choose the color. I chose maroon, which compliments my skin perfectly.
What if I couldn't afford medical treatment? Why does it cost so much in this country? Why can this country shovel money to the incompetent, economy-destroying banks but not fund single-payer?
March 05, 2009
Take Me Out to the Ball Game
Last night, Wednesday night, while running through Bloomfield toward Garfield Artworks to hang my paintings for a group show Friday, I tripped on one of Pittsburgh's typically- crumbling sidewalks, landing very forcefully onto my left elbow. Within a few minutes, my elbow had bloated to the size of a baseball (not an exaggeration) with deep-red pebbly indentations from the sidewalk. Manny, the gallery's owner, lent me an icepack that I took home with me, so I can never say anything negative about him ever, not that I had planned to do so.
Anyway, I worried I had fractured my elbow, and that I'd have to visit the hospital and tap into my limited funds for treatment. (Do only Americans worry about affording medical treatment? Why do I not live in Sweden or France?) I apparently haven't suffered a fracture, considering I can still use my left arm to type this entry, and for numerous other activities. However, I endured a semi-sleepless night last night due to the arm's severe soreness, and I now have giant, eggplant-covered bruises around the elbow. I also still have the indentations.
My main concern now: will the injory interfere with my yoga-class performance on Monday?
February 12, 2009 --fiction
Upcoming Movies: DFW
It�s a whale of a role.
19-year-old pop idol Jonah Ezra, star of the TV reality series Jonah and the Whale, will make his big-screen debut this fall as the late author David Foster Wallace, in the ProfitPoint Studios biopic DFW, which has just finished principal photography in Toronto. Ezra was happy to play the somewhat daunting role of Wallace, a literary heavyweight who had used footnotes in his writing. �I hadn�t even heard of him before getting this part,� Ezra says. �But once I read his Wikipedia entry, I knew David Foster Wallace was someone who made a difference in the lives of so many people.�
Ezra says he�s proud that the film �pretty much sticks to the factoids� of Wallace's life, including the struggle with depression that caused Wallace to hang himself at age 46 in 2008. �We wanted to honor David Foster Wallace, which is why there�s nothing fake-looking in this film. The part where I hang myself, as David Foster Wallace, has great special effects. Even though I did that scene a few times and was familiar with it, I still almost cried like a little [girl] when I saw the footage.�
�Jonah�s an amazing actor,� says the film�s director, Ferris Westfield (GoreStore 2). �The second he put on that bandanna and that long wig, I knew we had our David Foster Wallace.�
�True dat,� agrees 18-year-old bikini supermodel Maia Gutsche, who plays Wallace�s wife, the artist Karen Green. �I heard this Wallace guy was real smart, but Jonah captures his beautiful mind real well.�
In addition to acting in the film, Ezra has recorded several new songs for the soundtrack with his band Jonah and the Whale. �Bring da Bling (Theme from the ProfitPoint Studios Motion Picture DFW)� has already reached number one on the eFresh/Xtreem Cola Top 30 Ringtones chart. �I love music,� Ezra says, �but I want to branch out into acting. Playing David Foster Wallace will help me spread the Jonah Ezra brand worldwide and, just as important, hopefully educate people about someone who was very special.�
February 10, 2009
�Electric Boogaloo� Makes Everything Funny
Macbeth 2: Electric Boogaloo
The Zapruder Film 2: Electric Boogaloo
Schindler�s List 2: Electric Boogaloo
The Shawshank Redemption 2: Electric Boogaloo
�I�m sorry, Mr. Rowlandson, but you have terminal electric boogaloo. You have only a few boogaloos left. I would suggest electric boogaloo and boogalooing the boogs and loos. Oh, and I almost forgot: boogaloo.�
February 2, 2009--fiction
Lane and Shawn, Two 18-Year-Olds, Watching the Dirtiest Download of All Time in Shawn�s Bedroom
Title card on Shawn's computer screen: Thai Hot Lesbian Night.
Opening shot: an Asian city skyline. Dissolve to exterior of what looks like an apartment building. Dissolve to exterior of apartment door. Door slowly opens and...
�Never gonna give you up...� Rick Astley sings in the video for his 1980s hit song �Never Gonna Give You Up.�
Lane: �Oh, f---! We�ve been Rickrolled!�
Shawn: �No s---!�
After a minute of the video, the download ends.
Lane: �I paid thirty-nine ninety-five for this s---!�
Shawn: �Sucker.�
Lane: �You owe me that money. You said we should see this.�
Shawn: �Don�t blame it on me, dumba--. You picked the wrong download.�
Lane: �F--- you. I want that f---ing money.�
Shawn: �Suck my d---, d---head.�
Lane and Shawn get into a fistfight on the floor.
Shawn: �Cut it out, you f---er!�
Lane: �F--- you! F--- you! S---!�
Six months later, Lane is a U.S. Army private serving in Afghanistan, and Shawn is taking information technology courses on-line from learnit-university.edu. Should I have our heroes fail spectacularly and kill them off at young ages, or should I have our heroes lead long and successful lives? Or need I even ask, considering how the smart set loves sarcasm and irony?
January 31, 2009 --fiction
Cult Movies of the Eighties: The Skateboarder (1987)
Bobby Brewster (played by Val Hodges, who would die from a crack overdose in 1989) was just another 24-year-old teenage nerd who loved skateboarding, until a chance encounter with a green, jive-talking Martian (played by Rickie Roy, who would survive a crack overdose in 1990, only to die from an allergic reaction to a bee sting a year later) turned him into...the Skateboarder, a spiky-haired, red-pleather-jacketed hero dedicated to upholding justice while riding his supercharged talking skateboard (voice of Will Drake, chopped up into 475 pieces by an unknown assailant two years later)! See Bobby, in his alter-ego, woo the girl of his dreams, Stacy Andrews (played by single-named pop star Ashley, who will die after getting run over by a drunk driver in 1991)! See Bobby have a skateboarding fight with his arch-enemy, the Horrid Hippie (played by George Fasslebeck, who would die from a massive heart attack a month after filming his role)! The Skateboarder was the only movie directed by music-video director Steve Yance (who, after the critical and financial failure of this movie, would abandon directing for the financial field, eventually landing a prestigious accounts supervisor job at ProfitPoint Ltd. on the one-hundred-and-tenth floor of the World Trade Center's South Tower and--you can see where this is going, mainly through an open window, a hundred-and-ten stories down on September 11, 1998).
January 13, 2009
Unreleased Graphic Novels of 2009: Watchmen Babies
A throwaway gag on an old episode of The Simpsons actually inspired DC Comics (the owners of Watchmen) to release a graphic novel about Nite Owl, Rorschach, and company in their younger days. However, 20th Century Fox (the owners of The Simpsons), sued Warner Brothers (the owners of DC Comics) in New York City federal court over the rights, with Warner Brothers filing a countersuit; the resulting trial lasted five months, cost ninety-three million dollars for each side, and ended in a mistrial after the judge, the stenographer, six lawyers, all twelve jury members, the courtroom sketch artist, and fourteen reporters had developed Legionnaire�s Disease. After a six-month, forty-five-million-dollar investigation, the federal government determined that the outbreak had happened by accident due to the courtroom's faulty air-conditioning system; as a result, the government nuked Iran, just for the hell of it (who really needs a reason to do anything nowadays?), causing a lot of collateral damage, probably; the government wanted to start watching the shows in its TiVo backlog and didn�t really feel like counting what those critics on the left called dead people. At least the mainstream news media praised the government for moving beyond partisanship by ignoring the left and demonstrating American military might, yet showing some fiscal restraint in these tough economic times by launching only seventeen nuclear missiles toward the most evil member of the Axis of Evil. Meanwhile, Jake Hewett, the up-and-coming talent who had written and drawn Watchmen Babies, protested the attack by not paying attention to the partiotic fervor that resulted, instead partying extra-heartily at the hot Los Angeles nightclub Le Buzz Buzz with those Hollywood producers who would later sign him to a two-year, fifty-five-million-dollar deal to develop lesbian-alien-vampire-intensive viral content for cell phones.
Have you ever [redacted] and [expletive deleted] while [not safe for work] Hootie and the [bleep]fish?...Blog, Home.
� 2009 David V. Matthews