Sunday, March 29, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
From the hand of Elvis to a buyer at an auction, here's an original poem written by The (apparently cranky) King himself.
'The King of Rock scrawled the rhyme on a piece of paper after apparently killing a robin that perched on his window ledge.'
Full article here, via yesbutnobutyes.
Oh, and it you're hungry, there's always the Elvis sandwich.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Okay. So here's a story for all my friends who wonder how i can be such a caveman and NOT EVEN HAVE A FACEBOOK ACCOUNT.
Seems an Indiana cop posted a bunch of ridiculous shite on his facebook profile, including the above pics of him, as he described it, drinking a lot of beer and horsing around with friends. Yes, that is a .357 he has pointed at his buddy's head. He also demonstrated that true 'protect and serve' attitude:
'On February 19, while state records indicate Pestow was working his overnight shift, the Trooper's Facebook site shows this entry at 3:22 a.m.: "It's cold AND snowing?!?! I can't possibly work in these conditions."'
Aw. Poor baby. I guess in Indiana the criminals stay inside when the weather is bad. He also showed a healthy attitude -- especially in a police officer, a state trooper no less -- towards the homeless:
'Pestow also weighed in on the issue of people who resist arrest and threaten police officers. Referring to an incident in California in which Fresno Police officers punched a homeless man during his arrest, Pestow wrote: "Let someone, homeless or not, try and stab me with a pen, knife, spoon, etc, not only will he fail, he'll probably end up shot. These people should have died when they were young anyway, i'm just doing them a favor." [sic]'
And the thing about facebook is, knowing myself as I purport to, I just know I'd upload some incriminating shite that would get me in trouble. Hell, I could lose my endorsement deals like Michael Phelps. And that would be tragic. :)
This is another via fark story. I guess I'm feeling a bit lazy today with the snow and all. At least I have beer and weed.
Shit! See?? There goes that endorsement.
Now, if anyone ever told you that the Irish weren't pure badass masculinity distilled, this is proof that you were lied to. Seems a fella in Dublin had his hand severed when he was attacked by a loon with a samurai sword. Did he react like you or me, and run whimpering to the hospital?
Nossir. He PUNCHED HIS ATTACKER IN THE FACE WITH HIS BLOODY STUMP.
Omigawd. Feckin' hell. I guess that's what Tullamore Dew will do for you. Another intersting note: the attacker had 31 priors.
And you thought you were a drinking champ. :)
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Um, garsh, ma'am. Toilet sex or sofa sex... Um, if those are my only choices I'm going to play it safe and say 'sofa sex,' just because I'm not real sure exactly what you mean by 'toilet sex.'
Turns out that Florida isn't the only place where teachers try to get it on with their students, despite the preponderance of evidence that demonstrates that YOU ARE GOING TO GET CAUGHT.
Ah, if only teenagers could keep a secret...
But i digress. :)
This story is out of Sweden, where a teacher has been fired over sending a 16-year-old boy inappropriate photos and texts. The toilet sex question is one of the messages that were made public (and, btw, what the hell does that mean? Is she into enemas? Diapering? Banging in the boy's room?) The boy also allegedly texted her back asking if she had ever had sex on asphalt:
'She replied in the affirmative but added that it was "damn hard on my back and knees."'
Her knees?!?!? So, essentially she's saying she blew someone in a parking lot, at least once. WTF is wrong with the Swedes? Haven't you people ever heard of the back seat of a car? Volvos look real comfy.
But another funny thing that caught my eye was this:
'The teacher has denied that she is the woman depicted in photos sent to the boy's phone, a claim contradicted by her colleagues and the school principal.'
Here's one of the alleged pics of the teacher:
So, based on that picture, her colleagues and HER BOSS could positively identify her? How many of your co-workers would you be able to pick out of a line-up based strictly on a nude, faceless pic with the person's ass sticking up in the air? I have just three questions: why could her co-workers recognize her in that position, who is this Swedish slut of a teacher, AND CAN WE GET HER A WORK VISA PLEAZE???
Oh. I guess if she likes teenagers, I'm screwed anyway, and not in a good way.
And then there's that whole 'toilet sex' thing...I just don't want to know.
The news out of Washington and Wall Street is getting to the point of the absurd. People are rightly enraged at a system that seems to be set up to reward the very people who got us into this financial mess. Stephen Colbert has been sharpening his pitchfork (plus he had a great idea about a Thunderdome type of tournament to weed out execs, vid below) and people have started staking out the homes of AIG executives, even putting together a bus tour of shame to see how these dirtbags live. I always find it amusing when the rich and their lackeys in the press try to either a) play off the sickening amounts of money these guys make, and are STILL making from taxpayer dollars, or b) pull the ‘oh, you little people don’t understand how all of this works. Don’t worry your pretty little heads about the $30 million dollar bonuses and the brand new corporate jets.’ There is more bullshit flying around these days than you can find at the Denver Stockshow.
If you haven’t read this article by Matt Taibbi over at Rolling Stone, you should take a few minutes to do so. Here’s the lede, just to give you an idea:
‘It's over — we're officially, royally fucked. no empire can survive being rendered a permanent laughingstock, which is what happened as of a few weeks ago, when the buffoons who have been running things in this country finally went one step too far. It happened when Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner was forced to admit that he was once again going to have to stuff billions of taxpayer dollars into a dying insurance giant called AIG, itself a profound symbol of our national decline — a corporation that got rich insuring the concrete and steel of American industry in the country's heyday, only to destroy itself chasing phantom fortunes at the Wall Street card tables, like a dissolute nobleman gambling away the family estate in the waning days of the British Empire.’
And our national story goes downhill from there. It’s a long article, but it’s a fascinating read, in which Taibbi breaks down the AIG mess created by so-called ‘credit default swaps’ and other arcane financial instruments that led us to this weird place. All those terms you don’t quite understand are laid out here in clear, if simplified form. These too-big-to-fail giants -- AIG, Citigroup, Bank of America -- are certainly responsible for their own demise, as they chose to bet long on extremely dubious securities while pretending that it was all hunky-dory. And although our leaders like to pretend that some mysterious perfect storm arose out of nowhere to create the housing bubble and the subsequent crash, the tricky part you’re not hearing about out of the mainstream media is that our elected officials helped to create the atmosphere in which this could even have a possibility of happening. Hell, it could be said that they engineered it.
Read about the Glass-Steagall Act, a sensible law put in place after the (first) Great Depression in order to prevent normal, every-town USA banks from engaging in the risks undertaken at investment banks, and how then-Senator 'nation of whiners' Phil Gramm engineered its repeal, opening the floodgate for the too-big-to-fail guys to get that big. And guess how Wall Street got that done? Using both Reps and Dems, and whole big-ass pile of cash:
‘Wall Street responded by flooding Washington with money, buying allies in both parties. In the 10-year period beginning in 1998, financial companies spent $1.7 billion on federal campaign contributions and another $3.4 billion on lobbyists. They quickly got what they paid for. In 1999, Gramm co-sponsored a bill that repealed key aspects of the Glass-Steagall Act, smoothing the way for the creation of financial megafirms like Citigroup. The move did away with the built-in protections afforded by smaller banks.’
So, knowing the history is a good thing, knowing that these people in Washington -- many of whom are still in Congress, or who have migrated from Wall Street to Washington, and thus are tasked with cleaning up the very mess they so idiotically made -- bent over for a few thousand dollars in campaign contributions and in the process fucked the rest of us. But another piece you don’t hear about on the MSM news is that the so-called ‘bailout’ is but a drop in the bucket. Under Bush, going back to 2007, the Fed has been shoveling tons of money at these guys, by some estimates trillions of dollars, long before Congress approved (former Goldman-Sachs CEO and Bush Treasury Secretary) Hank Paulson’s original TARP funds:
‘While the rest of America, and most of Congress, have been bugging out about the $700 billion bailout program called TARP, all of these newly created organisms in the Federal Reserve zoo have quietly been pumping not billions but trillions of dollars into the hands of private companies (at least $3 trillion so far in loans, with as much as $5.7 trillion more in guarantees of private investments).’
And Taibbi also illustrates quite nicely how this is a game played by those in the inner circle, while the rest of us can go fuck ourselves:
‘Another member of Congress, who asked not to be named, offers his own theory about the TARP process. "I think basically if you knew Hank Paulson, you got the money," he says.’
And you wondered why Congress was so quick to sign off on untold trillions of dollars to be tossed into the banks while the big three automakers had to scrounge for a measly $15 billion -- money which, incidentally, may keep actual human beings doing things like, oh, I don’t know, making cars (that is, WORKING) and ordering steel and parts from other manufacturers, etc. What these guys on Wall Street actually create plainly amounts to two products: wealth for themselves, and misery for everyone else.
At any rate, there’s lots more in there. Kudos to the president, going on TV last night despite the idiocy of the MSM press (really, Chuck Todd? You think the American people should be asked to sacrifice more? Tell you what, I’ll give up the planned $10 million makeover I was going to get for my office, how’s that?). Obama is trying to get people to calm down and allow time for his program to work. Unfortunately the program, such as it is, does little to alleviate the underlying problems of the system as a whole, and simply props up the insiders who have already screwed the pooch, over and over again. As Taibbi calls it, we have just witnessed a bloodless coup d’etat, in which Wall Street has taken the reins of the country.
Frankly, if anything, people aren’t pissed-off enough.
|The Colbert Report||Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c|
|The Word - Keeping Our Heads|
Monday, March 23, 2009
We devote so much of ourselves to these things -- not to get all pretentious on you -- but it really does take a huge chunk out of yourself to realistically and believably play someone else on stage. The relationships you forge with your fellow actors are fun and weird at the same time: you have a stage relationship with their character, and you have a backstage relationship with the actual person which is often very different. So it's all a little schizophrenic, lol.
But this cast in particular has been amazing. There were six of us in this show, and every one of my castmates is someone i would look forward to hanging out with backstage, onstage, and at the bar afterward. :) Of the shows I've done, it is rare if not impossible to find an ENTIRE cast made up of really cool, really down to earth people, none of whom are crazy, or neurotic, or diva-like, or just plain assholes that you can't wait to get away from. There's always one...
(sidebar: Hmmm. If it's true that there's always one asshole in a cast, and if it's true that I can't identify who it is in the cast of this show...then does that mean it's me?? :) Hope not.)
At any rate, thanks to the cast and to Craig Bond our director, and to Vintage Theatre. And to those of you who made it to the show, hope you enjoyed yourselves, because we certainly did.
To anyone who didn't make it the show, you can suck it. :)
j/k. I love everyone.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Here's Stewart taking the interview apart piece by piece:
|The Daily Show With Jon Stewart||M - Th 11p / 10c|
|Interview With a Vampire|
Their tax cuts and relentless deregulation (read: tilting the playing field in favor of the wealthy) destroyed the economy, their ad hoc foreign policy left the world hating us, not to mention leaving the military depleted and demoralized (should an actual threat come along, there's no one left to call up), they left a great American city to drown, they eviscerated the Constitution, taking us closer to the brink of dictatorship than we ever knew--the hits just keep coming.
These great Americans--you know, the ones who wear flag pins on their lapels and tell people they ought to keep their mouths shut when they have questions, and compare reasoned dissent to treason--these guys very nearly destroyed this country in so many different ways it boggles the mind to imagine how we might crawl out of this hole.
And to watch John King of CNN, one of the main media gatekeepers and a supposed source of political news slobber all over Cheney's knob on national television is disgusting. It's worse than disgusting: it's offensive, and borders on malpractice. To call this news, to call this an interview, to allege with a straight face to the American people there is actual information coming out of Dick Cheney's mouth that might in some universe be considered truth, when King knows as well as you and I know that it is utter nonsense is what ought to be considered treason. This man needs to be held accountable for the violence he has done to our great nation, and when you allow him on a nationally-aired television show and give him leave to promulgate his lies, you are aiding and abetting him in his crimes.
When it takes a comedian to ask the questions that the mainstream is avoiding, something is very wrong with the mainstream.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
We all read (with loathing and creeped-outedness, i hope) (yes, that's a word, because i said so) about the woman in Connecticut who kept a chimp in her home, sleeping with it and even bathing(!) with it, and even giving it drugs, and how the poor confused thing finally went nuts and ripped the shit out of some woman it took to be a threat to its creepy mommy/lover/psychonut owner.
Well, proof of the Grand Monkey Conspiracy is here, people, and I am the one breaking the news. Check this story about a monkey who was so pissed at his owner -- who apparently beat him and refused to let him quit work as a coconut-gatherer -- that the monkey finally pegged said abusive owner on the head with a coconut, killing him instantly.
Couple this with the news that a chimp in a Swedish zoo apparently became so annoyed with gawking tourists that he began fashioning missiles out of rocks and chunks of concrete, even working on his weapons after hours, thus showing planning and stockpiling abilities, and...my friends, what you have here is a conspiracy.
No! A WAR!!! These beasts are clearly planning Something Big, and they seem to be smarter than many of us.
I for one welcome our new monkey overlords, and encourage you all to do the same. I plan to be one of their human hunters, leading the horseback troops of great apes through the ruins of our former cities as they toss nets, tridents and, yes, coconuts at runaway humans. I'm sure I will be given a warm cage, plenty of coconut milk, and several voluptuous, fertile females in exchange for ratting out human plans to fight back.
All Hail Mr. Peepers!!!
hey all. here's another installment (in no particular order, sorta like my mind, and my writing style, lol) from my current work-in-progress, tentatively titled 'crescent city blues.' (earlier pieces here, here... shit, just search for the tag crescent city blues.)
tell me what you think!
By Kurt Brighton
Outside the bar, Elmo passed three Jesus Christs in the grubby corridor. They were drinking from green wax Pat O’Brien’s to-go cups and laughing roughly. They had Kool-Aid red stains bleeding down the front of their white tunics, neon bibs of spilled Hurricane and what looked like vomit in one case. The tableau was like a bizarre Christmas hallucination, a nightmare vision from the alcohol-ravaged mind of a former shopping mall Santa.
All three were sweating profusely--on the lower levels of Upstairs, the air-conditioning was generally either broken, under repairs, or else it wasn’t working. The three young men chattered nonsensically amongst themselves, intermittently haranguing passersby, especially those of the female persuasion. The nano programs they were running gave them the standard Jesus look: long wavy hair, soft brown eyes, faces that seemed to glow a preternatural white, as if lit from within. Elmo glimpsed stylized stigmata on their hands--puckered, bleeding wounds that never seemed to close, the lines of them as intricate and detailed as any tattoo.
One stout son of God stood out slightly from the rest. Not only had he opted for a decidedly devilish goatee rather than the usual full beard, he also had his room number etched cleverly on his forehead, written in the blood that ran from his crown of thorns. It read, in red:
Sonesta - 2317 - Ladies Only!
It might have been a really stunning effect, this unholy trinity, if only they kept their mouths shut. But they were all quite drunk, and not shy about it either:
“Show us your tits! As the Son of God, I command you to show us your tits!”
The whooping Christs grew slightly more sedate as a tight pack of riot gear-clad Party Security troops clattered past. Encased in their black armor carapaces, they looked like shiny cockroaches that had somehow discovered bipedality. Elmo quickly stepped aside and found himself next to the Jesuses--or maybe that would be ‘Jesii,’ he thought. The ParSec troops rattled by, their faces obscured by filtered plastic faceguards and goggles, but they hardly even glanced over. The Jesii were paying tourists after all; the cops, and especially ParSec were looking for terrorists intent on disrupting the convention, not run-of-the-mill loaders.
“Principalities and powers, my son,” murmured one of the Christs as he and Elmo watched the troops trot down the corridor.
“We struggle against principalities and powers, ‘the rulers of darkness of this wicked world and all their followers,’” the man continued, gazing thoughtfully after the troops.
“Yeah...uh, right,” Elmo replied.
“These are grim times. A good man must work hard to retain his soul.”
“Not a whole lot of good men left around here, O Lord,” Elmo said. He eyed the suddenly philosophical loader, noting the tell-tale signs of someone running a nano program with standard Cloud-9 enhancers: enlarged pupils, dreamy smile, relaxed breathing.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” the loader said, grinning beatifically. “We have some fight left in us yet.”
“Right. Well, good luck with that,” Elmo said as he made his way into the dark, cool depths of Perdition.
“Bless you my son!” the Jesus called out.
The bar was crowded for a weekday afternoon. It was especially crowded for a dingy bar with all the ambience of a concrete bunker. Perdition was in a relatively obscure corridor, just off the lowest level of the Sonesta wing--the ass-end of Upstairs, the oldest and dingiest section. For neighbors the bar had a couple of rip-off electronics retailers owned by a revolving-door cast of sketchy Eastern European immigrants, rickety beer booths, several spray-painted doors, and a sorry, dilapidated strip joint. It was a grimy, local bar, and generally that’s who hung out there: grimy locals.
But not today.
It was nearly convention time again. In a couple of days it would begin in earnest, but the early birds from The Party had already descended on the Quarter en masse, even infiltrating this obscure bar in the lower reaches of Upstairs. There was also a smattering of locals, along with a few loaders. Year-round, there was an endless stream of visitors infected by the past, by the long-expired romance of the Crescent City. The mythos lived on, but only in caricature form. As they prowled the endless concrete corridors, what the tourists saw was a version of New Orleans as imagined by a Tennessee Williams-smitten matron who lived and breathed the trashiest sort of romance novels, but who never left her house.
What they saw, in short, was New New Orleans, aka Upstairs.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
'Snip City is here again!
March Madness is coming up. Schedule your vasectomy for one of the prime 24 slots during the first days of the tournament! You get a recovery kit - and most importantly - a doctor's note stating you need to sit on the couch and watch basketball!
Call (541) 334-3350 to schedule.'
Hmm. i want to watch basketball, but i have to go to work...
Hey! I know! Why don't i get surgery on my junk!
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Aw! I want one! (via neatorama.) This dude is so lucky -- he's got his very own pet AT-AT from Empire Strikes Back. They're really cute when they're small, but i bet it's a bitch keeping a full-grown one in an apartment. I wonder if they get along with dogs?
More pics here.
Third rule of fight club: never go full retard. (via fark)
A group home for the mentally disabled is being investigated for employees staging a fight club between residents there. Ah, texas! Now that GW isn't gobernor anymore, and executions are down, I suppose they have to find their entertainment somewhere!
'CORPUS CHRISTI, Texas (AP) -- Seven employees at a state-run home for the mentally disabled have been suspended for allegedly staging a "fight club" among residents.
Corpus Christi Police Captain Tim Wilson says the fight clubs were uncovered when someone gave an off-duty police officer a cell phone containing videos of fights at the Corpus Christi State School.
Wilson says the videos show mentally disabled adult clients punching, shoving, and striking each other while the employees watch.'You're all winners! I wonder if they wore helmets...
Monday, March 9, 2009
Here's a neat story. So an Oregon high school decided to forbid its students from putting on a play, 'Picasso at the Lapin Agile,' because a parent complained that the show had references to drinking and sex. But a local college got a request to host the play, and according to state law, the university president says she has to allow the show to be presented there.
'LA GRANDE, Ore. (AP) — A play banned from La Grande High School will instead be done at Eastern Oregon University after the president said she had no choice but to allow a student group to rent space for the performance. University President Dixie Lund said last week she wouldn't allow high school students to perform Steve Martin's "Picasso at the Lapin Agile" on the campus because the superintendent and school board had forbidden it in at the high school.'
Which is kinda cool, on the face of it. The underlying issues are more troubling, to me, however. For one, why has it come to this pass, where ONE SINGLE COMPLAINT can lead to a play, or a book or anything else being banned from schools because the precious snowflakes there may somehow be damaged by the material? I mean, really? Even referring to drinking or sex could so wound these kids psychically that we must ban a play from being performed? I may be out of the loop here, but I was under the impression that high school kids had some vague knowledge that something called 'sex' existed in the world. And I'm pretty sure they may have seen their parents drink at least once.
Now, i'm not saying we should broadcast 24-hour porn on wide-screens in classrooms (although, come to think of it, if you want students to pay attention...) But it seems clear that kids know a hell of a lot more than their parents think they know. And perhaps they even know more than their parents. The more you try to hide something from others, the more it peeks out.
The thought process that leads certain people to assume that they know best for everyone, and that they must somehow bravely step forward to prevent the soiling of others' minds is the last remnant of the dying patriarchy, the sad lostness of Old Religion, that charming set of superstitions and lies that was made up by our tribal ancestors in the desert in order to keep The Mob in line. One can only hope that we're moving forward towards MORE information, MORE exposure to new ideas for children. Good lord, we're getting dumber by the minute--thank the gods that someone realizes that kids aren't going to freak out and run off to join a sex and liquor cult (Elliot's?) upon seeing actors portraying people who drink and fuck.
Hiya. If you're reading this, then thanks. That means that you have been keeping up with me. Despite the clear evidence that I have not been keeping up with you--meaning I have not been blogging as regularly as i should be.
Frankly, i even hate the word 'blogging.' A verb?? Really? Are we that far gone as a species, that something like this compels us to put a new word on it??
Blogging. An action one undertakes? Something one does that informs the rest of the world, that contributes in some way to the state of our being as humans?
No. this entire enterprise is one born of self-adulation, self-fascination, and a desire for approval and fulfillment through the eyes of others happening upon your silly little thoughts that you smear up onto the web, as if you were a Wordsworth of the 2000s with the attention span of a rhesus monkey, as if you were a brilliant and incisive purveyor of all that is interesting and of note to your fellow human beings.
And so, while it easy to concomitantly deride that which i am doing even while i do it, in order to maintain an ironic distance from it, and while i am happy with the pieces of my brain that i share with you here, i cannot help but be somewhat aloof, somewhat deliberately above it all, when it comes to the things i type out here.
Jesus. What an ass. What an arrogant prick. Me, that is.
At any rate, if you are still interested, here's what's been going on with me: had a bunch of shows this weekend, and it is going well. We have an awesome and cohesive cast that makes what could easily be a silly and light play resonate with audiences (i like to think), and it has been absolutely a blast to work with this cast, both on stage and after the shows. Many thanks to all who have made the journey down to scary old Denver to see And the Winner Is. I hope it was worth your trip.
Here, though, are some recent things i have discovered: hipsters are naturally self-defeating. If your entire stance, all that you 'believe in' is based entirely upon not being impressed by anything, well, then, guess what? Nothing is ever going to impress you. You have taken yourself completely out of the running for experiencing anything good, or new, or neat. It has all been done, yes, of course, but without open eyes, the things that have already been done seem even more tired to you, simply because you fail to take the imagination necessary to even try to experience anything in a new way.
And another thing...
Oh, shit. I forget. I'm doing a film with some really cool people later this week, and it has motivated me to finally follow through with some of my own short scripts. At any rate...
Falling out now. Here's a taste, and i hope to see you all soon.