As far as the commercial goes, I think it woks on both angles. The message of the ad agrees with responsibl
Friday, December 10, 2010
PETA: Dead Puppies Aren't Much Fun
I have a theory that 70% of the people that complain about PETA going "too far" are just upset because the organizati
As far as the commercial goes, I think it woks on both angles. The message of the ad agrees with responsibl
As far as the commercial goes, I think it woks on both angles. The message of the ad agrees with responsibl
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
100 Notable Books of 2010
Image by Getty Images via @daylifeThe holidays are already upon us; time to start making that list of books you should have read this year as potential stocking-stuffers. The New York Times Sunday Book Review has been gracious enough to help us out be releasing their top 100 list of notable books released in 2010, soon to also appear in the December 5 edition of the Book Review.
Anybody have any titles to add to the list? What novels did the New York Times overlook this year?
O'Reilly: WikiLeaks Leakers Are Traitors, Should Be Executed
Bill O'Reilly's predictabl
The documents being released now are nowhere as bad as the pictures of America's treatment of foreign prisoners in Abu Ghraib, but both involve the airing of dirty laundry. Back then, as is now, the cry of the powerful and enlightene
I have no real solution to offer regarding this. Just pondering the state of things, which I am beginning to realize is never a healthy mental exercise.
Read the Article at HuffingtonPost
Monday, November 29, 2010
The Big Lie of Black Friday Economic Recovery, Take Two
We went through this same nonsense last year. The mad rush to cash in on bargains on Black Friday spawned headlines screaming "What Recession?
I understand that the news media is desperate to fill empty space on a regular basis, but when the lies and distortion
Read the Article at HuffingtonPost
Friday, November 26, 2010
Yet Another Bank Commercial That Pisses Me Off
Does this commercial piss off anybody else besides me?
Here we have an average blue-collar worker (notice the clean suit and tie) with a decent job (notice how he has an overseas business "colleague" that sends him surprise gifts, and not a co-worker that drew his name in a Secret Santa pool with a $10 limit) that apparently pays well (notice the clean and modern kitchen of what appears to be an expensive city apartment) that receives two unexpected surprises: A rare and popular toy from a Japanese "colleague," and a $1000 prize from entering in a contest by activating a Citibank credit card.
Now, the intended sentimental holiday message is supposed to be about an ordinary guy who is inspired to give a valuable toy away to charity by the generosity of his credit card's financial institution. All I can see, however, is the story a greedy corporate douche who receives a gift that turns out to be quite valuable, and so immediately begins fantasizing about all of the money he can make by auctioning off a children's toy to the high bidder online for a boatload of cash that he doesn't appear to be hurting for.
But then he wins $1000 dollars in an advertising scheme designed to convince economically inexperienced individuals to unwittingly enslave themselves to a financial institution at 20% APR for the rest of their natural lives with the promise of fabulous cash prizes to be won. So, now that he has lucked into a chunk of unearned excess income already, he decides to donate to charity, not out of the kindness of his heart or the eagerness to do good, but because now it has become exceedingly convenient for him to do so. Then, instead of donating the $1000 to a charitable organization dedicated to housing and feeding the homeless, he takes the valuable toy that didn't cost him a dime, and will be worthless in six months anyway, and drops it in the nearest toy-drive bin.
A bank attempts to sell memberships to their credit-cards with the false promise of easy money by disguising it as a demonstration of the desire to do good to others by donating to charity, and they still can't manage to make it any less shallow than some greedy prick who only considers being charitable when it becomes extraordinarily convenient and manages to not cost him a penny.
This commercial is the perfect example of:
a) How screwed up we are as a nation and a culture, and
b) Why I shouldn't be watching any television this holiday season.
Here we have an average blue-collar worker (notice the clean suit and tie) with a decent job (notice how he has an overseas business "colleague" that sends him surprise gifts, and not a co-worker that drew his name in a Secret Santa pool with a $10 limit) that apparently pays well (notice the clean and modern kitchen of what appears to be an expensive city apartment) that receives two unexpected surprises: A rare and popular toy from a Japanese "colleague," and a $1000 prize from entering in a contest by activating a Citibank credit card.
Now, the intended sentimental holiday message is supposed to be about an ordinary guy who is inspired to give a valuable toy away to charity by the generosity of his credit card's financial institution. All I can see, however, is the story a greedy corporate douche who receives a gift that turns out to be quite valuable, and so immediately begins fantasizing about all of the money he can make by auctioning off a children's toy to the high bidder online for a boatload of cash that he doesn't appear to be hurting for.
But then he wins $1000 dollars in an advertising scheme designed to convince economically inexperienced individuals to unwittingly enslave themselves to a financial institution at 20% APR for the rest of their natural lives with the promise of fabulous cash prizes to be won. So, now that he has lucked into a chunk of unearned excess income already, he decides to donate to charity, not out of the kindness of his heart or the eagerness to do good, but because now it has become exceedingly convenient for him to do so. Then, instead of donating the $1000 to a charitable organization dedicated to housing and feeding the homeless, he takes the valuable toy that didn't cost him a dime, and will be worthless in six months anyway, and drops it in the nearest toy-drive bin.
A bank attempts to sell memberships to their credit-cards with the false promise of easy money by disguising it as a demonstration of the desire to do good to others by donating to charity, and they still can't manage to make it any less shallow than some greedy prick who only considers being charitable when it becomes extraordinarily convenient and manages to not cost him a penny.
This commercial is the perfect example of:
a) How screwed up we are as a nation and a culture, and
b) Why I shouldn't be watching any television this holiday season.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Gospel of the Money River
Image via Wikipedia"Perhaps, if they stopped believing in crazy things like a Money River, and go to work, they would stop having such a rotten time.""If there isn't a Money River, then how did I just make ten thousand dollars today, just by snoozing and scratching myself, and occasionally answering the phone?"
"It's still possible for an American to make a fortune on his own."
"Sure - provided somebody tells him when he's young that there is a Money River, that there's nothing fair about it, that he had damn well better forget about hard work and the merit system and honesty and all that crap, and get to where the river is. 'Go where the rich and powerful are,' I'd tell him, 'and learn their ways. They can be flattered and they can be scared. Please them enormously or scare them enormously, and one moonless night they will put their finger to their lips, warning you not to make a sound. And they will lead you through the dark to the widest, deepest river of wealth ever known to man, You'll be shown your place on the riverbank, and handed a bucket all your own. Slurp as much as you want, but try to keep the racket of your slurping down. A poor man might hear.'"
God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater - Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.
O'Reilly Strikes Back At The Simpsons For Fox News Jab (VIDEO)
First of all, I love the fact that Bill O'Reilly implies that Fox should manipulate and control the creative output of the shows broadcasting in its entertainment division so that they don't clash or interfere with the public image of its news/entertainment channel. I guess the idea of controlling the message by suppressing alternative views seems like a no-brainer to Bill.
But, more importantly, I am totally smitten with Bill's refusal to take any negative criticism from a cartoon. Speaking out against critics and detractors is one thing, and defending yourself against comedians and satirists is another, but complaining about a joke in a cartoon takes it all to an entirely new level of whining narcissism that is almost (almost) funner than the actually Simpsons clip shown.
Read the Article at HuffingtonPost
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Denis Leary: People Only Pretend To Read Franzen (VIDEO)
So, Denis Leary's selling pitch for his new book Suck On This Year is that other books have too many pages. It's nice to know that somebody out there has the guts to market their book specifically to lazy people and functional illiterates. As far as his assertion that most people only pretend to read Jonathan Franzen, I guess that could be true. After all, most people only pretend to think Denis Leary is funny. I guess it worked out well for both of their careers. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go and pretend to read How to Escape From a Leper Colony.
Read the Article at HuffingtonPost
House Passes Ban On Crush Videos
Sorry animal-lovers, but as cruel and barbaric as these "crush videos" are, they are not exactly what you would call a widespread epidemic, and far from what I would consider a major issue requiring swift and decisive action. With all of the problems sweeping this nation, and the impending gridlock of the upcoming GOP-run House, it is depressing that this is the kind of stuff lawmakers are fine-tuning to be more effective. I guess they all just want to be able to point out having accomplished SOMETHING, even if it is simply making it easier to prosecute individuals selling hamster snuff films.
Read the Article at HuffingtonPost
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Jon Stewart Responds To The "False Equivalency" Critique Of The Rally To Restore Sanity
Predictably, the talking heads have taken an immediately defensive stances, eschewing reflective self-examination for more self-serving denials and complaints. The most humorous of these are the more liberal voices, like Keith Olbermann or Bill Maher, who are now bristling at being lumped into the same category as Glenn Beck or Sean Hannity. Olbermann's was especially funny, as he prefaced his complaint with a suspension of his "Worst Persons in the World" segment in acknowledgement that Stewart's argument was wholly unfounded.
The "They Do It Worse" complaint is not only a poor excuse for an overall culture of shoddy and sensationalist reporting in the news media, it is illustrative of the overall point: news media channels and personalities alike are more concerned with their public image and approval ratings (or just ratings) than they are with transcending the rhetoric and simply reporting the facts.
Take the hit, guys. Stop whining about the dig, spare us the pity party, and start cleaning up your act.
Read the Article at HuffingtonPost
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Book Quotes: Death Wish
Cover of Death Wish "There are times I'm convinced there is nothing more to existence in this world than a black desert where blind people pick up rocks and grope around to kill one another."- Brian Garfield, Death Wish
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
It's nice to know that someone cares what I think...
In this case, that someone is Susan Whitfield, who has posted an interview with me on her author review blog. In the interview, Susan asks me about my background,
my writing habits, my projects, and my latest book, Performed by Lugosi. Stop over at her blog and read all about me, browse her other author interviews when you get bored with mine, and post flattering comments about my author photo if you are so inclined. Come on, you know you want to.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Why Aren't Republicans Funny?
Chistine O'Donnell's new "I'm not a witch" commercial is depressingly reminiscent of Sarah Palin running with the "Palm Notes" debacle, and underlines one of the major flaws of most republicans: they truly have no noticeable sense of humor. Palin and O'Donnell trying to act like they are good sports who are in on the joke, or firing back with staff-written jabs of their own, always fails with an audible thud. Why do most far Right Wingers have no comprehension of satire or parody, or even a basic understanding of the form and function of a joke?
Image by Bearman2007 via FlickrThis isn't an isolated incident, either. A recent poll showed that a large number of conservatives did not realize that the Colbert Report was satire; they thought he was actually championing conservative causes, albeit in a humurous way. They didn't get the joke. Could it be that buying into the Republican world view actually divorces you from reality and the human condition so much that you no longer understand what is humorous? It would explain why Dennis Miller stopped being funny once he gave up his impartial comedian status and became a dedicated toe-the-line conservative commentator. Still don’t see the connection? Remember Fox News' short-lived attempt at a Daily Show-type comedy news series, the 1/2 Hour News Hour? Yeah, most people don’t. Yet another audible thud.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
A Funeral for Mickey
There were many guests at my sixth birthday party. Among those in attendance were Mickey Mouse, Fred Flintstone, and the rock band KISS. Actually, KISS was present in name only, their logo plastered across my t-shirt in a rather unusual and ill-advised form of product placement advertising. Then again, perhaps it wasn’t that inappropriate; the fact that KISS t-shirts were available in my size suggests that there was plenty of money to be made in even the youngest demographic.
It feels strange to refer to the other guests, the other children present at my sixth birthday party, as my friends. I have no idea who any of them were. There are no names or fond memories available to attach to blurry, frozen faces laughing in this Kodachrome moment from the past. Friends from that age seem almost inconsequential, casual relationships dictated more by classrooms and neighborhoods than any innate desire to bond with others. We probably had very little in common besides shared classrooms. Otherwise, I might not have been the only one endorsing KISS so publicly at my birthday party.
My fondness for KISS had no basis on musical taste. Posters of Gene Simmons breathing fire and walking on foot-long spiked platform shoes in studded leather garb hung on my bedroom wall, yet I owned none of their albums. The closest I ever came to listening to their music was watching the television special KISS Meets the Phantom of the Park. I can only assume that my parents encouraged this fascination because of the cuteness factor inherent in a kindergartner running around in a KISS t-shirt making Gene Simmons devil faces.
Despite my affection for the flamboyantly costumed rock band, there were no KISS related decorations at my sixth birthday party. Instead, the centerpiece of the event was a large cake in the shape of a more wholesome and kid-friendly Mickey Mouse. The Disney theme did not extend far beyond the cake, however, as the plates and cups all featured Fred Flintstone. I guess that is the one benefit to catering a party for children; they don’t put much emphasis on coordination or consistent presentation as long as there is cake, ice cream, and a pile of gift wrapped goodies..
It feels strange to refer to the other guests, the other children present at my sixth birthday party, as my friends. I have no idea who any of them were. There are no names or fond memories available to attach to blurry, frozen faces laughing in this Kodachrome moment from the past. Friends from that age seem almost inconsequential, casual relationships dictated more by classrooms and neighborhoods than any innate desire to bond with others. We probably had very little in common besides shared classrooms. Otherwise, I might not have been the only one endorsing KISS so publicly at my birthday party.
My fondness for KISS had no basis on musical taste. Posters of Gene Simmons breathing fire and walking on foot-long spiked platform shoes in studded leather garb hung on my bedroom wall, yet I owned none of their albums. The closest I ever came to listening to their music was watching the television special KISS Meets the Phantom of the Park. I can only assume that my parents encouraged this fascination because of the cuteness factor inherent in a kindergartner running around in a KISS t-shirt making Gene Simmons devil faces.
Despite my affection for the flamboyantly costumed rock band, there were no KISS related decorations at my sixth birthday party. Instead, the centerpiece of the event was a large cake in the shape of a more wholesome and kid-friendly Mickey Mouse. The Disney theme did not extend far beyond the cake, however, as the plates and cups all featured Fred Flintstone. I guess that is the one benefit to catering a party for children; they don’t put much emphasis on coordination or consistent presentation as long as there is cake, ice cream, and a pile of gift wrapped goodies..
The Mickey Mouse cake turned out to be a huge hit, although not quite in the way it had been intended. The cake looked great sitting on the table, but after the candles were blown out and the cake was cut, the removal of a portion of Mickey’s ear exposed a dark, rich, red interior. I don’t know who was first to point out the blood-red filling’s resemblance to freshly cut flesh, but it wasn’t long before we were all joining in, a group of six year olds laughing and giggling as we gleefully screamed that my parents had killed Mickey Mouse. As we rejoiced over the ritualistic vivisection of a cartoon icon, a party balloon in the other room suddenly popped, inspiring someone to shout out “Oh no! They got Goofy!” My parents did little to discourage our behavior, and so our sugar-fueled imaginations kept us ranting about cartoon character safaris until parents finally started arriving to remove my party guests one by one.
I have no recollection whatsoever of the presents received on my sixth birthday. The memory of my gifts, no matter how much I treasured them then, have since faded from the slide show of my childhood’s most cherished moments. Yet I will never forget the touching image of me and my friends celebrating Mickey Mouse’s mutilated, frosting-covered corpse.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Ray Bradbury Corrupts Young Girls
Talk about your Book Lust! Here's a NSFW tribute to one of Science Fiction's most prolific authors:
Why do I get the feeling that follow-ups for Isaac Asimov and Philip K. Dick are already on the way?
Why do I get the feeling that follow-ups for Isaac Asimov and Philip K. Dick are already on the way?
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