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Tuesday, July 31, 2007

TVTV

I ran across this looking for clips of Bill Murray and Christopher Guest on Howard Cosell's Saturday Night Live (I'd heard Murray talk about it briefly on one of the Times Talks podcasts (mp3).
This is not (I don't think..?) that (but it seems like it just has to be related somehow); it's a TVTV production: Bill Murray and Christopher Guest at the 1976 Superbowl.
Here's some context for TVTV: Fascinating?
Yes, I deem it: Fascinating.

Christopher Guest had nice hair!
Tune in tomorrow when I blather on and on about Z Channel.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

A "Hand-out" is not a "Foot... In"

I love Dirk Bennedict's essays on his website.
Here he is on the reimagining of Starbuck...
What I am sure of is this… Women are from Venus. Men are from Mars. Hamlet does not scan as Hamletta. Nor does Han Solo as Han Sally. Faceman is not the same as Facewoman. Nor does a Stardoe a Starbuck make. Men hand out cigars. Women 'hand out' babies. And thus the world, for thousands of years, has gone round.
His writing always seems to end in a big mashup of puns on clichés like that (it's always good to be reminded of what not to do(*)), and it's totally great to be reading something and thinking, Oh, OK, here's the bottom of the Crazy Well, and then have the author go Nuh-uh, motherfucker, here's a trap door! Shizahh!

I first realized I was in the presence of greatness when I read this excerpt from one of his books:

The funny thing about flesh is, once you get it off the hoof, or paw, and put it on the shelf in a cellophane wrapper, or into a stew in the center of the table, it all looks pretty much the same. You forget that it was once a cow or sheep or horse or monkey or calf. Or puppy. Ashes to ashes. Flesh to flesh. Blood becomes blood. Only the hypocrites in line at McDonald's or Carl Jr's, or the meat counter at Safeway, point their fingers. Let he who has not gnawed, cast the first bone. And it's a short throw from the tar paper shack of dog to the burger stand of cow. And so I discovered that one man's feast is another's famine. One man's joy is another's pain. One man's pet is another's pot roast. I learned that taste, like all sensorial experience, is relative. Or, as the Trapeze Artist said to the actor..."If there's more than one way to skin a cat, there's certainly more than one way to cook a dog."

Dirk Bennedict buys his meat by the pound.
If you know what I mean.

AND GUESS WHAT? YOU CAN TAKE A CRUISE WITH HIM:
http://www.cruiseevents.net/Past_Cruises/benedict/requestbrochure.htm

I'm going to buy a ticket for that Pets or Meat woman from Roger & Me.


On the acknowledgement page of that book, it just says "peyote".

JK! I love you Dirk Bennedict!

Monday, July 23, 2007

I can't believe she killed off Hermione!

Just kidding, I haven't read it yet.


Jesus Christ, don't look at me like that.

Thursday, July 19, 2007

This is old..

..but the champagneok site still manages to make me lol if not rotflmao. Actually, to be specific, it makes me estmn,* but I think that's a subset of lol, so I'll stick with lol.

I think Mark Frauenfelder basically figured out the secret to this page when he said, "Interesting that someone would go to the trouble of registering champagneok.com...."

That's it exactly: If this were a ytmnd, I would have already forgotten about it,** but the fact that it has its own url makes it more.. perfecty..? Maybe..? Or maybe because registering a useless url*** seems more like Proto-web, when Carl Steadman roamed the earth and www.isitfriday.net**** seemed like about as perfectly zen an online experience as you could hope for and therefore champagneok is a callback to my younger, more innocent self?

So, anyway, this is old, and but yet so
If you need me, I'll be in the wayback machine.



* exhale sharply through my nose
** although maybe not: I just ran across this again: ESTMN!!!11!
I realize now that I did not use my Casio SK-1 to its full potential.
I suggest a new strategy. Let the Wookiee carol.

*** back when it still felt like you could find the end of the internet (black text over battleship gray tiled background of an embossed photograph), the "Useless Pages" index (exploding whale, sea monkeys, animations achieved by using the Netscape scrollbar) was basically my favorite thing in the world, obviously back before Search killed Index. Maybe that's why Miranda July's site seems so Web 1.0: because it's invisible to Search. Hm.
**** don't bother clicking; it's now just a domain-for-sale site, but in case you're wondering, it's probably not Friday.

Don't Break the Chain!

I just printed this blog post off and faxed it to a friend.

Hopefully that person can Twitter it or something.

(I'm pretty sure Twitter is stupid and it's not just that I'm old.
Developing.)



I saw Corn Mo last night at the TMBG show. He's like if Meatloaf and Del Close had a baby and then entrusted the secret of how they were able to conceive to him when he was bar mitzvahed.

Craig Holiday is my new favorite song. I mean, Robert Holiday? I mean, wait.

Friday, July 06, 2007

Good Night, Nurse

[The views expressed herein do not necessarily reflect those of the Board Members or Advisory Panel of The Center for Nursing Advocacy.]


More reviews of music featuring nurses here. (Sonic Youth wins overall! Yay!)

But where's Happy Nurse by The Sugarcubes?
What up, nurses? Apprehension, uncertainty, waiting, expectation, fear of surprise, do music criticism more harm than any exertion.