And Now, A Word From Our...

So, who's got Olympic Fever? If you do, keep it to yourself. I couldn't give a shit less. As I've said many times, I'm just not that stereotypically "manly". The only thing worse than watching sports, in my opinion, is listening to some asshole talk about sports (speaking of which, what the hell do sports commentators major in, anyway - Pointing Out The Painfully Obvious? Finding 100 Different Ways To Say The Same Damn Thing Without Stuttering Like A Fu-Schnickens Song?). I'm similarly bored to puking by all things automobile-related, nor am I the least bit handy with tools. Also, I have a vagina.

But my point is, the Olympics suck. I ask you, what rational being cares which freakishly-built little puppet-woman wins a gold in gymnastics? I mean, sure, I stayed up until midnight watching the shit, but so what? It's like pork rinds - I know it's awful for me, but I can't stop myself. Who says Freud was wrong about that Thanatos stuff?

But my real point is: you know what sucks even more than the Olympics? The commercials they show during the Olympics. If Dante was alive today, surely there would be a whole extra circle of Hell where souls were tormented by being forced to watch this crap for all eternity. The most annoying so far is the one (I don't remember if it's for Nike or not - once again, good job at getting people to remember the product, geniuses) with the song that just repeats the line "I got soul but I'm not a soldier" (which is apparently by The Killers - I had to look it up, preferring not to listen to shitty poseur bands myself). How the hell you can get four (or whatever) members of a group to agree this constitutes a decent lyric is beyond my powers of comprehension. It's like saying "I got arms but I'm not an arms dealer" - not only is it not clever, it's a fucking non sequitur, ya moe-rons! Which brings me to my real real point:

Advertising is made by and for stupid asshole dickhead poop-butt scumbags, with absolutely no exceptions. As I've also said many times, whenever I hear somebody utter the words "I love that commercial!", I automatically check them off the list of people I want to know. And it's only gotten worse in the last 10 years or so. Back when I was a kid, commercials were obviously crap, most of them still using antiquated 1950s advertising methods. There were no popular songs used, with the exception of dumb studio hacks singing "Talkin' 'bout my Ken-L-Ration" or whatever. But nowadays you've got people who own the entire Criterion Collection on DVD and who grew up listening to "alternative" music working in advertising, and they either want to convince themselves they're still cool or they think they're helping the cause by using Feelies and Pogues songs in car ads. Well, you're not helping - you're making things worse. I have no doubt that these songs actually affected you, but now you're forcing them to affect me in ways completely antithetical to the ways they affected me originally, and for that I invite you to suckle Le Pepe. Try to understand: you may have been hip in high school or college, but you've long since stopped being hip by virtue of the fact that you work in advertising. You're now part of the problem, and no matter how "artistic" or "ironic" you make your ads, you're still promoting utter and profound evil every day you walk into the office. I know a few people who work or have worked in advertising, and I'm not saying you're all definitively soulless asses. But you sure as hell hang out in the same circles as those who are. But hey, I still bite my nails down to nubs, so it's not like I'm without my faults.

In any event, on to the letters!

Entertainment Weekly, Aug. 15, 2008

Thanks for writing about "Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog" ("The Doctor is In"). But you spoiled one of the best jokes. The funny part of having Bad Horse as the Evil League of Evil leader was that you didn't know he was a horse until Act 3!
Terry Drosdak
Silver Springs, Md.

Terry,
Well, way to spoil it a second time, jackass. Did you ever think maybe people didn't read the article in the first place just to avoid such revelations, only to have their dreams shattered a couple weeks later by reading it on what is supposed to be the fairly innocuous and mildly retarded letters page? Apparently you didn't. As my dad used to say to me immediately before he beat me senseless, "That's the problem - you didn't think". Which was a bit unfair, seeing as how I was only 3 months old and couldn't understand a damned word he was saying. Still, I learned a valuable life lesson from his incomprehensible gibberish - a lesson you somehow managed to avoid into adulthood. Maybe you were raised by wild boars or something - I don't want to know your whole woeful life story. I have not the time for such folderol, sirrah! The fact remains, though, that you really humped the donkey by opening your fat, gaping maw without some kind of spoiler alert warning. I only hope the billions of fans of "Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog" are proper Christians and don't ostracize you like that one community did to that poor, misunderstood wretch who made up the fake MySpace account to taunt that depressed girl. Sadly, I have no control over such things, so you probably want to check your car for bombs or whatever every morning, lest someone pull a Michael Clayton on you. Wait, you did see Michael Clayton, right? Damn, now you've got me falling into your inconsiderate trap. Oh, you're the devil, all right. The devil of my heart.

Anyway, I've never seen the show, but I imagine the fact that the character was named "Bad Horse" might have tipped me off to its species. But then, I'm always taking things so literally.

They call me Yuck Mouth - 'cause I don't brush!,
John

This Pop of King was especially endearing. In no other magazine can you read about the "Bard of Horror" experiencing pure giddiness over eating Junior Mints on a toothpick.
Alexis Miller
Pittsburgh

"Don't forget to grind up my neck meat to make the gravy tastier!"

Alexis,
Bloat the choo-choo, gabardine fleck-screech Walla Walla jigglecakes, flur-de-hur-de-ding-dong-day? The Hobbit curses dingo flats or tuna wishlist camouflage! Hammalicious flapjacks (mit sauerkraut!) gonging on the moo-block, chicken chirping "cuckoo-lu" chomping crab-nosed paperweight bulbous indigents fo' fun and prophet, alphabet swallow the wizened honey pap. "Mordant caps lock"? Sheer buttermilk! Und zen vee graps zee manhole like so - voila! Onion giblet!

Just so you're clear, this makes about as much sense to me as your letter.

This is your correspondent, running out of tape, gunfire's increasing, looting, burning, rape,
John

Where Did The Ordinary People Go?

All right, couple spleen-ventings before we get to the letters:

First, how many of you watch Jeopardy? If you do, riddle me this: Is it just me, or has Alex Trebek gotten increasingly more dickish over the years? He used to seem relatively polite and mild-mannered, as befits a good Canadian, or maybe I just used to be more trusting. In any case, it seems like he's always got some snide little comment to make these days, like "Oh, no, I'm sorry, your response of 'Manet' was incorrect. The real answer, of course, is Monet. Monet is what you were looking for". But he says it with such an air of smug superiority that what actually comes across is "My God, you stupid fool, what kind of dumb-fuck doesn't know that? And when will you turnip-truck pea-brains understand that I should be revered as a God for my vastly more advanced knowledge and proper pronunciation? Never mind the fact that I've got all this info in front of me on a prompter, and probably go to Pompous Gasbag class every day to get the inflection exactly right when I inevitably have to say laissez-faire". At least, that's how I hear it. I wonder how often they have to stop the tape because a contestant takes a swing at his punk ass, or edit out mumbled profane epithets hurled his way? If I ever get on the show, I'll let you know myself.

Little-known fact: Alex started his career in television playing the role of Lamont on the hit series "Sanford & Son".

Second, while I really am happy that people enjoy this blog and take the time to comment and e-mail, some of you are, to put it charitably, giant fucking assholes I wouldn't waste the energy to cross the street and spit on. I always check out the websites/blogs of those who comment/e-mail, and for some reason, I seem to attract a fairly large (as a percentage of people who actually read this) number of right-wing nutjobs. Now, I'm not talking about your run-of-the-mill conservative, who, though undoubtedly misguided in his worldview, nevertheless comes by his political convictions honestly and doesn't cause too much damage to society. No, I mean douchebags with entire blogs dedicated to homophobia and anti-Muslim hate speech. As I replied to at least one of you in e-mail and even alluded to on this very blog way back yonder in the mists of time: there is no pretty much no issue on which you could label my position "conservative". Well, maybe fucking livestock or something, but even then, I'd wait to hear the pig's side of things before rushing to judgment.

Seriously, I don't get it. You militia-types-in-training get the concept of "jokes", right? Fuckin'-A, even if that's too cosmic a theme for you to grasp, I don't see how you get "right wing sympathizer" from anything here. I guess the problem with irony/sarcasm/satire/etc. is that some moron somewhere's going to take you at face value. Remember when that disgusting old insect Reagan tried to appropriate Springsteen's "Born in the U.S.A." for his own political gain? You guys should really try to learn from your idiotic predecessors' mistakes. But shit, then I suppose there wouldn't be a Republican Party anymore, would there? Probably no war or recession, either, come to think of it. And then what would any of us have to bitch about?

I know not all Republicans are fear-mongering hate puppets. As a good liberal, I try to avoid gross generalizations and blatant confirmation bias. Nevertheless, one thing I feel confident in saying about the Grand Old Party: You are some butt-ugly sumbitches. Jesus Christ, watch any political news show that has clips of any branch of government and you can pretty much play "spot-the-Republican" without glancing at the bottom right of the screen just by noting how singularly unattractive they are. The Refuglican Party, you should be called! I'd find it easier to "pop a B" (if you follow me) watching the colon surgery channel for a week than watching Fox News for five minutes, for real. Don't get me wrong - there are plenty of ugly Democrats, too - I'm not saying every ugly person is a Republican. But every Republican is an ugly person. How you even manage to perpetuate the conservative gene is beyond me - either you've managed the unenviable feat of asexual reproduction, much like our little friend the aphid (which is still far more fuckable than you and your ilk), or you're so in lockstep to the party line that you all rushed out and stocked up on Viagra when your boy Dole endorsed it back in the day. If you're a Republican woman, on the other hand, you must just be shit-faced all the time (which would explain Ann Coulter). Speaking of whom, if that's the best you can do for a sex symbol - and it is - you might as well pack up your genitalia and call it a day. Not only is her face in competition with Maria Shriver's for Skeletor-lookalike-of-the-century, but her body's (very) roughly modeled on the classic Number 2 pencil. I bet if she ever brushed you with her elbow you'd get a paper cut! I don't even know what that means, but it's wittier than anything she's ever spewed from her vile bulimic lips. You guys can't even get good-looking celebrity endorsements. What have you got? Vincent Gallo? Holy shit! His middle name should be "You ain't got no alibi"! And what's with your pundit mouthpieces? Both George Will and Tucker Carlson wear bow-ties, for God's sake. I understand their desire, as conservatives, to return to a "simpler time", but shit, even in the 1940s only laughingstocks (i.e., barbershop quartets and magicians) would be caught dead wearing those abominations. Also, Tucker Carlson looks just like Arcade from the old Marvel comics. Is a cartoonish psychopath anything to base a political party on? From the statements made by Rove and Cheney lo these many years, it appears it is.

Anyway, my point is, you are horribly unappetizing physical creatures, and should probably be rounded up and demolished, just like they do with buildings when they become eyesores.

If you in any way took umbrage to any of the preceding, this blog ain't written for you. If you're not sure how serious I was about any of that, then I'm accomplishing exactly what I intended. If you find it funny regardless, you is my people.

Note: I was entirely serious about you right-wing hate bloggers, just so you know. You can fuck off and die, as far as I'm concerned. Shit be pissing me off, for serious.

Oh, and if the following answers are again too brief, as a reader who keeps referring to me as "monkey boy" claims, blame the aforementioned bloggers. Then spam the shit out of their comments pages with Marxist ideology and hope it's enough to cause them massive strokes. If that doesn't work, remember the old saying: "Brevity is the".

Entertainment Weekly, Aug. 8, 2008

Thanks for the Comic-Con preview. It shows how much great entertainment has been viewed by passionate, faithful freaks and geeks well before anyone else had a clue. The nerds really do control the world.
Matthew Scott
New York City

Matthew,
We must have entirely contradictory views on what constitutes "controlling the world", then, because watching pre-release CGI dorkfests in a pathetic attempt to one-up the rest of the sucker public doesn't even qualify as controlling your own baser impulses in my book. I guarantee you I'm not lamenting the fact that some schmoe with an extensive "action figure" collection already got to see the video-game-graphics masterpiece that is Star Wars: The Clone Wars or whatever the hell it's called while surrounded by cheering (in Vulcan!) asthmatics in Hulk costumes, because even in 7th grade, the last time I gave a tinkling shit about sci-fi/fantasy, I had sense enough to wait a few weeks after the release date to see that shit at the multiplex without having to wait in line for days like a Soviet peasant trying to score some flour, and besides, if I was the type to lament such things, I'd probably have been at Comic-Con with you in the first place, so you'd look the fool either way. I considered making that run-on sentence even longer to illustrate just how boring it can be to read the opinion of someone with whom you have nothing in common beyond a chromosomal level, but I wasn't sure you'd get the point. Well, there's probably something we have in common, to wit: I'm going to head off and masturbate right now. The difference between us is that I'm going to masturbate about a human being who actually exists. 'Cause that's how I roll, Matthew. I imagine you probably roll when approaching a steep incline. Thus is the wonderful variety of life on Earth multiplied in new ways and eternally refreshed. Now shut your yap hole! I've got an imaginary date with a certain co-worker to get to. Damn cock-blocking nerd.

I am Superman and I know what's happening,
John

If 1978's "Superman" kicked off the comic-book movie culture (Movies), then what exactly were the Superman and Batman movie serials of the '40s?
Phil Marsh
Santa Ana, Calif.

Phil,
I dunno - shitty piles of crap, maybe?

She came all the way from America,
John

I was pleasantly surprised to find an article about country music. After reading it, I was even more satisfied ("The Sugarland Express"). The Sugarland members have a great career ahead of them.
Betsy McWilliams
West Des Moines, Iowa

"Here's a little ditty 'bout rape and murder!"

Betsy,
I concur! I only pray that great career is in the real estate field.

Used to live at home, now I stay at the house,
John

p.s. Most country music fans are pleasantly surprised to find articles about country music.

p.p.s. This is because it's usually their first realization that they've finally attained basic literacy.

p.p.p.s. Get it?

p.p.p.p.s. Country fans are teh dum!!!1!!

p.p.p.p.p.s. Hee!

I think the backlash surrounding Katherine Heigl's withdrawal from the Emmy race had little to do with her ability to express her thoughts, but rather the fact that she gives herself far too much credit. Does she remember her prior filmography included "My Father, the Hero" and "Bride of Chucky"?
Meg Myers
Tulsa

Meg,
Just one look into her eyes and I fell confident in answering: No. No, she doesn't remember. Hell, the woman can't even remember to keep necessary, life-affirming vowels in her name - I imagine asking for higher memory functions is right out of the question at this stage of the game. At least she's still breathing without the aid of a machine, though! It's the small victories you must learn to cherish.

I'm gonna love you too,
John

Sounds Great When You're Dead

All right, let the bitching (re-)commence!

Good news: After taking a month off, I've got a huge backlog of letters, and I'm not afraid to use them.

Gooder news: despite my earlier post, my health is quite good; in fact, except for a very brief period, I've felt fine physically - it was more that I was worried about a possible problem than any actual symptoms fucking with me. But it looks like, as is the case with most things in life, all that worrying was pointless. But hey, I'm in a rush - I'm pretty much out the do' to see one of my fave-rave comedians, so here's a quick taster for the faithful:

Entertainment Weekly, June 13, 2008

I get it: "Sex and the City" changed the way we all look at women in their 30s; Sarah Jessica parker is the master when it comes to changing a mini-dress into a work of art; and cosmos are delicious. But 63 pages? Enough already!
Stephen Riordan
St. Petersburg, Fla.

Stephen,
As even a tree stump could probably guess, I'm in agreement with you on that last part. As to your other points:
1) I suppose it might have changed the way I looked at women in their 30s - if I believed sitcom characters resembled anything approaching reality; or if I hadn't already met plenty of women in their 30s who weren't shallow, oversexed retards; or if I had the kind of pea-brain that could reasonably extrapolate from "4 rich, white Manhattanites" to "all women in their 30s"; or if I lived on a steady diet of paint thinner and thalidomide-soaked plums; or if I'd ever been able to make it through an entire episode in the first place;
2) I must have missed Ms. Parker's exhibit at the Cooper-Hewitt Museum, because the only thing I've ever noticed her doing with a mini-dress was wearing it, which, unless you're using it as a line to try to get laid, doesn't even meet the minimum requirements for transforming an object into art; and
3) Cosmos taste like possum vomit.

But thanks for writing anyway.

Heartbeat, it's a love beat,
John

"When you consider the epic sweep of history and
the unimaginable vastness of the universe,
perhaps this pose is fairly meaningless after all."

The photos of Carrie's tutu and seaform gown were a godsend. For years, I have been scouring the internet for a good, clear photo of that dress. Now I finally have it!
Pat Muniosguren
San Mateo, Calif.

Pat,
Truly, your life is the stuff of Greek tragedy.

Romeo was restless, he was ready to kill,
John