Happy 61st!
8/20/2009
8/10/2009
The grand wizards of shitty folk
Longtime readers of this very blog may remember my write-up on Lynx and Lamb Gaede. They're the adorable little Olsen twin look-a-likes that make up the folk music duo Prussian Blue. Oh, and they're also white supremacists who like to build Hitler snowmen and brand their cattle with swastikas.
No word on what these two are up to. I couldn't find any information on them past January 2008. The twins are 17 now, so maybe they're off to college or married the Unabomber or something. No matter—whatever they're doing now, Prussian Blue better set up plans to record in the Mariana trench or something because they've got some competition!
Heritage Connection is the phat, fresh, new name in national socialist folk-pop. The group essentially rips off Prussian Blue line by line. Cute blond teenage siblings? Check. Violin and acoustic guitar? Check. Provocative poses with white power flags? Check. Ear-splitting caterwauling? Check infinity.
The band consists of sisters Shelby and Charity Pendergraft, the granddaughters of Thom Robb, the national director for the Knights of the Ku Klux Klan. In the excellent book Them: Adventures With Extremists, author Jon Ronson describes Robb as the KKK leader who doesn't use the n-word. Robb is attempting to remake the Klan as a kinder, gentler kind of hate group and has compared the organization's infamous white hoods to ties that businessmen wear to work—it's just a tradition, dontcha know? He's protested against the Martin Luther King, Jr., holiday, but says his approach is "gentle, upbeat and friendly."
Anyway, Robb's granddaughters have recently sieg-heiled their way into the limelight with two recently released CDs, Aryan Awakening and Standing Our Ground. The latter's cover features the girls standing on a mountaintop in modelish outfits and poses and waving a flag that bears the legend "White Pride Worldwide." Like, cute!
The songs cover the old predictable vanguard faves—immigration, interracial relationships, apocalyptic race wars, yadda yadda. But that's not why they blow. Shelby and Charity are horrible singers. Horrible. If you didn't think it was possible to sound whiny and monotone at the same time, check out Heritage Connection. Dogs all over rural Arkansas are clapping their paws over their ears as we speak.
Far more interesting than the girls' music is their blog, which in a rare showing of integrity, I'm not going to link to. If you're really interested, look it up. I found it occasionally eye-opening and informative. For example, did you know that Eureka Springs, Arkansas, has been "overrun by queers"? Playing there was "an interesting experience", but left the girls feeling "sick to our stomachs." Now I want to go to Eureka Springs immediately. What kind of delicious, stomach-churning faggotry is going on in this city? It sounds like fun!
The girls complain that the JCPenney in their town "is starting to look like a Mexican recruiting station." What is that, exactly? And why won't the Mexicans recruit me? I love chimichangas! Ironically, the girls later talk about how they had delicious enchiladas for dinner and how their family "loves Spanish food." Isn't a love of food that ends in vowels grounds for recruitment? If not, what is??
Overall, the blog is devoted to describing in excruciating detail everything the girls and their family consumed at various gatherings and holidays. There are a couple of declarations of undying devotion to Ron Paul. And there is talk of a Spongebob Squarepants birthday cake. Hypocrites! Spongebob is a Communist!
Of interesting note: an article on Heritage Connection on the Southern Poverty Law Center's website points out that the girls' site is decorated with various European flags, including one from Ireland. Don't the white power-ists hate Catholics? Newsflash, homeschool idiots: Ireland is predominately Catholic.
What's the point of this post? To make fun, of course. This is the best music they can come up with to represent their cause? They'll never take off because they're lulling their followers to sleep! And Allah help us if they team up with Prussian Blue and do a tour of bunkers and windowless cinderblock buildings. Girls, when you make up your rider, don't forget to request those yummy tacos!
On a side note, did you know the KKK's finance guy is known as the Grand Goblin? I smell a band name!
No word on what these two are up to. I couldn't find any information on them past January 2008. The twins are 17 now, so maybe they're off to college or married the Unabomber or something. No matter—whatever they're doing now, Prussian Blue better set up plans to record in the Mariana trench or something because they've got some competition!
Heritage Connection is the phat, fresh, new name in national socialist folk-pop. The group essentially rips off Prussian Blue line by line. Cute blond teenage siblings? Check. Violin and acoustic guitar? Check. Provocative poses with white power flags? Check. Ear-splitting caterwauling? Check infinity.
The band consists of sisters Shelby and Charity Pendergraft, the granddaughters of Thom Robb, the national director for the Knights of the Ku Klux Klan. In the excellent book Them: Adventures With Extremists, author Jon Ronson describes Robb as the KKK leader who doesn't use the n-word. Robb is attempting to remake the Klan as a kinder, gentler kind of hate group and has compared the organization's infamous white hoods to ties that businessmen wear to work—it's just a tradition, dontcha know? He's protested against the Martin Luther King, Jr., holiday, but says his approach is "gentle, upbeat and friendly."
Anyway, Robb's granddaughters have recently sieg-heiled their way into the limelight with two recently released CDs, Aryan Awakening and Standing Our Ground. The latter's cover features the girls standing on a mountaintop in modelish outfits and poses and waving a flag that bears the legend "White Pride Worldwide." Like, cute!
The songs cover the old predictable vanguard faves—immigration, interracial relationships, apocalyptic race wars, yadda yadda. But that's not why they blow. Shelby and Charity are horrible singers. Horrible. If you didn't think it was possible to sound whiny and monotone at the same time, check out Heritage Connection. Dogs all over rural Arkansas are clapping their paws over their ears as we speak.
Far more interesting than the girls' music is their blog, which in a rare showing of integrity, I'm not going to link to. If you're really interested, look it up. I found it occasionally eye-opening and informative. For example, did you know that Eureka Springs, Arkansas, has been "overrun by queers"? Playing there was "an interesting experience", but left the girls feeling "sick to our stomachs." Now I want to go to Eureka Springs immediately. What kind of delicious, stomach-churning faggotry is going on in this city? It sounds like fun!
The girls complain that the JCPenney in their town "is starting to look like a Mexican recruiting station." What is that, exactly? And why won't the Mexicans recruit me? I love chimichangas! Ironically, the girls later talk about how they had delicious enchiladas for dinner and how their family "loves Spanish food." Isn't a love of food that ends in vowels grounds for recruitment? If not, what is??
Overall, the blog is devoted to describing in excruciating detail everything the girls and their family consumed at various gatherings and holidays. There are a couple of declarations of undying devotion to Ron Paul. And there is talk of a Spongebob Squarepants birthday cake. Hypocrites! Spongebob is a Communist!
Of interesting note: an article on Heritage Connection on the Southern Poverty Law Center's website points out that the girls' site is decorated with various European flags, including one from Ireland. Don't the white power-ists hate Catholics? Newsflash, homeschool idiots: Ireland is predominately Catholic.
What's the point of this post? To make fun, of course. This is the best music they can come up with to represent their cause? They'll never take off because they're lulling their followers to sleep! And Allah help us if they team up with Prussian Blue and do a tour of bunkers and windowless cinderblock buildings. Girls, when you make up your rider, don't forget to request those yummy tacos!
On a side note, did you know the KKK's finance guy is known as the Grand Goblin? I smell a band name!
7/20/2009
A day off is a day ON at Stupid & Contagious
Today is a vacation day in Rockitland. Yee-haw! And what better day to spend it than by catching up on Stupid & Contagious. We have quite a bit of ground to cover, and it unfortunately involves that whispy scarecrow known as Gwyneth.
Since Gwynnie is so upset about the big meanie bloggers who are constantly trashing her STOOP newsletter (they just don't get it), I've decided that it would be free publicity and a major boon to my blogging career if I can get her to squall at me personally. So I'm going to be extra mean today!
And why shouldn't I be? Bitch gives the worst advice. You remember back when I wrote a fake GOOP newsletter for my April Fool's Day post? Well, turns out I wasn't too far off.
The first example appears in her June 18 newsletter, which focuses on "healing." Great. More new age fuckery. My favorite. Gwen opines "In fact, those many little [acupuncture] needles have helped me through many an ailment. Eastern medicine has a different approach than Western medicine—it’s more holistic. The root of the problem is addressed, as opposed to a symptom being attended to with prescription medication, only to return."
I know that our favorite pile of wet spinach went to a hoity-toity private school in New York. It may cost a lot of money, but the teachers there don't have to actually be licensed, as they do in public schools. So who gets the more authoritative education? Hard to say. Either way, it's obvious Gwyneth was twirling her hair and writing mean things about the ugly girls in her slam book during science class.
She continues:
But Gwynnie, antibiotics and surgery are so Western. And they don't really get to the root of the problem. Plus, it just looks so much cooler to have needles sticking out all over the place and and a little Asian woman gently ringing sound therapy bells. I've got a little control test for you to try, Gwyneth—the next time you get sick, how about trying those antibiotics and prescription meds without the "complimentary" add-ons?
This painfully stupid intro is followed by an interview with a "Chinese medicine practitioner" who goes on and on about how herbs and shit are virtually ignored by snooty Western scientists. She then mentions energy flow and "Qi" and life force. Gag.
Here's where the newsletter starts sounding a lot like the April Fool's Day post. Gwynnie's diploma mill doctor offers a few ancient Chinese secret follow-up remedies:
• Ginger tea with raw brown sugar for menstrual cramps
• Castor oil pack for joint pain
• Neti pot for clearing out the sinuses
• Dry brushing for healthy skin and lymphatic system
• Goji berries with chrysanthemum for red, dry eyes
You know what else is natural? Poo. Do they ever use that in ancient healing practices?
Next we're introduced to cupping, another therapy that was invented during the Tang Dynasty and involves glass jars, fire, alcohol and baby oil. It may sounds like a night at Bob Guccione's house, but it's allegedly supposed to create some kind of suction vacuum on the patient's skin for...what exactly? Relaxation? "Healing?" Who knows, but it leaves these really gnarly marks on you and also can also burn your flesh off. Way to recommend there, Gwynnie. What's next? Bayonet therapy? Hey, cutting is supposed to help people relieve stress, so why not?
The July 9 STOOP newsletter might be even worse. Gwynnie bitches that she gained a bunch of weight "during a majorly fun and delicious 'relax and enjoy life phase' about a month ago." Imagine that. Dare to have fun and enjoy life and you turn into a giant unlovable fat ass, like Gwynnie's character in Shallow Hal. Stars...they're just like us!
Anyway, what's a girl to do? Cleanse, cleanse, cleanse! Gwynnie recommends Dr. Alejandro Junger's Clean detox program. He claims the cleanse will rid the body of toxins and you won't have headaches and irritable bowel syndrome anymore or something. Basically, he doesn't give you any of the rundown and the post is essentially propaganda for his program. Buy it! Gwynnie did! She was able to restore her cornstalk-like physique after a crazed week of face-stuffing.
After her hearty endorsement ("I feel pure and happy and much lighter... this thing is amazing!"), Gwen reminds us to ask our doctors if a cleanse is right for us. You mean those Western-medicine-practicing shills for Big Pharma?? No way! I'd rather drink nothing but mashed wet spinach juice and whey so I can be skinny like Gwyneth Paltrow!
God, could she be any more clueless? Wet Spinach is such a moron. Don't follow her advice. I'll tell you how to make yourself feel better for free: replace Aussie Cheese Fries with fruits and vegetables and do some exercise. When you're sick, go to the doctor. If you're considering alternative treatments, consult Quackwatch and What's the harm?, not STOOP.
Ug, I can't believe I've just wasted half my day off on Paltrow. Time for a "relax and enjoy life phase" for the rest of the afternoon.
Since Gwynnie is so upset about the big meanie bloggers who are constantly trashing her STOOP newsletter (they just don't get it), I've decided that it would be free publicity and a major boon to my blogging career if I can get her to squall at me personally. So I'm going to be extra mean today!
And why shouldn't I be? Bitch gives the worst advice. You remember back when I wrote a fake GOOP newsletter for my April Fool's Day post? Well, turns out I wasn't too far off.
The first example appears in her June 18 newsletter, which focuses on "healing." Great. More new age fuckery. My favorite. Gwen opines "In fact, those many little [acupuncture] needles have helped me through many an ailment. Eastern medicine has a different approach than Western medicine—it’s more holistic. The root of the problem is addressed, as opposed to a symptom being attended to with prescription medication, only to return."
I know that our favorite pile of wet spinach went to a hoity-toity private school in New York. It may cost a lot of money, but the teachers there don't have to actually be licensed, as they do in public schools. So who gets the more authoritative education? Hard to say. Either way, it's obvious Gwyneth was twirling her hair and writing mean things about the ugly girls in her slam book during science class.
She continues:
Don’t get me wrong, I am thankful as hell for a round of antibiotics or surgery when necessary, but I have been helped tremendously by all of the practices below that help the body heal itself. When implemented by a professional with experience, the benefits can work wonders.
But Gwynnie, antibiotics and surgery are so Western. And they don't really get to the root of the problem. Plus, it just looks so much cooler to have needles sticking out all over the place and and a little Asian woman gently ringing sound therapy bells. I've got a little control test for you to try, Gwyneth—the next time you get sick, how about trying those antibiotics and prescription meds without the "complimentary" add-ons?
This painfully stupid intro is followed by an interview with a "Chinese medicine practitioner" who goes on and on about how herbs and shit are virtually ignored by snooty Western scientists. She then mentions energy flow and "Qi" and life force. Gag.
Here's where the newsletter starts sounding a lot like the April Fool's Day post. Gwynnie's diploma mill doctor offers a few ancient Chinese secret follow-up remedies:
• Ginger tea with raw brown sugar for menstrual cramps
• Castor oil pack for joint pain
• Neti pot for clearing out the sinuses
• Dry brushing for healthy skin and lymphatic system
• Goji berries with chrysanthemum for red, dry eyes
You know what else is natural? Poo. Do they ever use that in ancient healing practices?
Next we're introduced to cupping, another therapy that was invented during the Tang Dynasty and involves glass jars, fire, alcohol and baby oil. It may sounds like a night at Bob Guccione's house, but it's allegedly supposed to create some kind of suction vacuum on the patient's skin for...what exactly? Relaxation? "Healing?" Who knows, but it leaves these really gnarly marks on you and also can also burn your flesh off. Way to recommend there, Gwynnie. What's next? Bayonet therapy? Hey, cutting is supposed to help people relieve stress, so why not?
The July 9 STOOP newsletter might be even worse. Gwynnie bitches that she gained a bunch of weight "during a majorly fun and delicious 'relax and enjoy life phase' about a month ago." Imagine that. Dare to have fun and enjoy life and you turn into a giant unlovable fat ass, like Gwynnie's character in Shallow Hal. Stars...they're just like us!
Anyway, what's a girl to do? Cleanse, cleanse, cleanse! Gwynnie recommends Dr. Alejandro Junger's Clean detox program. He claims the cleanse will rid the body of toxins and you won't have headaches and irritable bowel syndrome anymore or something. Basically, he doesn't give you any of the rundown and the post is essentially propaganda for his program. Buy it! Gwynnie did! She was able to restore her cornstalk-like physique after a crazed week of face-stuffing.
After her hearty endorsement ("I feel pure and happy and much lighter... this thing is amazing!"), Gwen reminds us to ask our doctors if a cleanse is right for us. You mean those Western-medicine-practicing shills for Big Pharma?? No way! I'd rather drink nothing but mashed wet spinach juice and whey so I can be skinny like Gwyneth Paltrow!
God, could she be any more clueless? Wet Spinach is such a moron. Don't follow her advice. I'll tell you how to make yourself feel better for free: replace Aussie Cheese Fries with fruits and vegetables and do some exercise. When you're sick, go to the doctor. If you're considering alternative treatments, consult Quackwatch and What's the harm?, not STOOP.
Ug, I can't believe I've just wasted half my day off on Paltrow. Time for a "relax and enjoy life phase" for the rest of the afternoon.
7/04/2009
6/27/2009
C-A-T spells 'Rhode Island'!
Holy, crizzap, I'm the worst daughter ever! I totally forgot to post this last Sunday for Father's Day in honor of MY PA! Happy belated day, RockitPop!
6/26/2009
Frito-Lay is on my shit list
Is it too soon to blog about something other than Michael Jackson's death? I'm still not totally convinced he didn't fake it and move to the Cook Islands.
Fuck it. This has been bugging the shit out of me for a while.
I used to eat Baked Lays chips all the time, 'cause they're pretty good. But now, I just can't bring myself to reach for a bag while grocery shopping, thanks to the Frito-Lay Only In A Woman's World advertising campaign. And I thought Martyrs was scary. But the first time I saw one of these commercials, I was truly horrified. I literally stared, mouth agape, in disbelief at the television even after the two-freaking-minute-long ad ended. Have you seen this stuff?
Against my better judgement, I had to know more. Yes, it's true: Frito-Lay, makers of some of the most delicious salty snacks in all the land, including of course Fritos, Doritos, Cheetos, Tostitos, Funyuns, Miss Vickies chips and Ruffles, are now marketing their Baked Lays, SmartFood and Flat Earth (i.e. "lite") products to chicks with the most inane, vapid and stereotypical advertising they could possibly come up with.
The ads center around four cartoon broads with no noses and club hands who are "navigating life and love" and "fab, funny, fearlessly female." Yes, everyone...they have uteruses and they're not afraid to use them! Something tells me the people who came up with these ads *don't* and *are*.
The campaign's website has bios of each of the chicks. We have Anna, an Asian chick who loves yoga and is a journalist (which is one of those acceptable careers for women in TV and movies, along with teacher, interior designer and event planner). Then we have Cheryl, a black mom who ignores calls from her personal trainer and "sometimes finds herself wishing the annoyingly perfect super-mom next door would have a mental breakdown." Next there's Maya, fashion boutique owner who "hides how much she spends on shopping from her husband." Finally, there's Nikki, an arty singleton who says, "Shopping for cereal was a lot more fun when I cared more about the toy than the fiber!"
We'll get to the blatant female stereotypes in a sec, because we also have a lot of fun racial and looks-based pigeonholing here, too. The Asian does yoga. The black woman drops everything to be supportive. The blonde has big boobs and loves fashion (and lies to her spouse about her out-of-control spending). The redhead is wacky and flighty. It's like According to Jim in cartoon form.
Now we get to the "webisodes." This explains why the original commercial I saw was way too fucking long. They're all meant to be like mini, comic Sex In The City episodes. The first one introduces us to "the girls." One is wearing control top panty hose under a bikini. Another destroys a scale because "we had a misunderstanding." The redhead eats a cookie standing up because "then it doesn't count, right?" (Huh? I don't get it). Already, I have no further interest in any of these people, cartoon or not. Nor do they resemble me or anyone I know. And yet, I forge on for the sake of Stupid & Contagious.
So. I'm going to just give you a little rundown on each of the webisodes, and we'll go from there. And oh my freaking god, there are NINE OF THEM.
• OK, this is the one I saw on TV that left me catatonic with disbelief. The "premier" starts off with the blonde using a Thighmaster and chanting "bikini, bikini, bikini." When the phone rings, the Thighmaster flies across the room and breaks "her skinny mirror." The redhead is crying and all the gals assemble to be good shoulders for her to lean on (and one even gets a crotch buzz from her vibrating phone and blushes) and of course she's sobbing over a guy "Giancarlo" who is leaving her. After the ladies run through a cavalcade of guys the redhead has obsessed over, she reveals that Giancarlo is her hairdresser. And that's when they all go apeshit.
• One of the ladies has the flu and the friends stop by to cheer her up, 'cause that's what true friends do! The sick one says she hasn't been able to eat in days and she's lost four pounds. The others gush "You're so lucky!" and she says "I know! I can almost fit into my skinny jeans!"
• The blonde is having coffee with the black chick before she leaves for a vacation in Mexico. The black chick asks her if she's ready "all over" for a getaway. OK, have you ever in your life asked someone if they're ready for a vacation by asking them if they've waxed? I mean, SERIOUSLY?? Anyway, it gets worse: the blonde then imagines herself disrobing at the beach and people running and screaming because she's pale, hairy and had unclipped toenails. For the love of god...
• One of the gals is at a cosmetics counter with very rosy cheeks. A blonde bimbot says "love your blush". Gal says "Hot flash!" What the hell does this have to do with chips? They are never mentioned or shown!
• The gals are discussing a beautiful day and saying, "You know what this means!" Picnics! Horseback riding! Outdoor yoga for the Asian! And...bikini season! Suddenly everyone is depressed and ordering shit with skim. Again, what does this have to do with chips?? And if this is supposed to encourage us to eat something, this is a really bizarre approach...
• Asian yoga chick is having a nightmare. First a glasses-clad feminist says "Women can do anything!" Then, her mother pops into her mind to say "where are my grandchildren??" Feminist says, "We're more than baby factories! We're strong independent human beings!" Mom says, "You can have a career after the kids leave home!" Then a boyfriend-type character wakes up and puts his arm around her, which sends her into hysterics, yelling, "I can't take all this pressure!" Then mom says, "You should never make the man in your life feel inadequate, dear!" Again, no chips and WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCK??
• Black chick's husband says they're taking a little Mother's Day trip to a B&B and he's packed her bags for her. They're wearing robes, sipping champagne with their club hands by a warm fire. She says she thinks she should "change" but her brain-dead hubby didn't pack anything that matches!! She bitches at him for not bringing makeup...but he did! A curling iron and some kind of compact! "But I don't curl my hair!" she screams. But she really doesn't care, it's the thought that counts. Then they go out for dinner and *everyone* is staring at her and gasping in horror at her mismatched outfit and garish makeup. Because when you go out, you have to wear makeup even when only shitty, outdated makeup is available . Criminy.
• The blonde is negotiating with a diner chef to have one more piece of pie. She's got plates piled up all around her, like she's had two whole pies already. She told him one slice ago to not respond to threats to his family for another. But then she says, "You do something for me and I'll do something for you" and winks. Jesus H. Christ, she's going to BLOW HIM FOR PIE?? Instead, she gets in his face and demands it, so he gives in. When she's done scarfing it down, she says, "Why did you let me eat that?" OK, pie...not chips. And are we supposed to eat the product or not?? I'm so confused!
• The blonde and Yoga Asian are on treadmills and Blonde is listening to a self-help tape, chanting "I'm bringing out the thin within. Size is just a state of mind. The only thing holding me back is me" and turning up the speed on the treadmill. Her friend asks what exactly the tape is supposed to accomplish and she responds, "To help me maintain control...and fit into a certain dress by Friday." Then she flies off the treadmill and the friend quips "I'm sure that dress will look great...over your full body cast!" HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! When women try to control themselves, it always ends in hilarity!
So here we have:
• Hysteria over hairdressing
• Shoe worship
• Jealousy over other women
• Frivolous grooming
• Weight loss through physical illness (and praise for it)
• Depression over "bikini season"
• Total freak-outs over food
• Men portrayed as clueless idiots
• Compulsive exercise
• Ad nauseum mention of cankles, water weight and hot flashes
What exactly is the goal here? Are we supposed to eat Baked Lays, SmartFood and Flat Earth snacks or not? Because all these ads seem to be geared toward guilt over putting anything in your mouth besides a penis. I mean COME ON! Offensive doesn't even begin to accurately describe this. It's also completely convoluted! In essence, they're saying "Hey, here are our salty, delicious snacks! Since you can't control yourself and stop from eating them, we'll make you feel as guilty as possible for being a fat, vapid failure." Why don't chip companies advertise their wares by showing drunk chicks pigging out on salty snacks with no remorse whatsoever? Funny, clever AND realistic!
I'm guessing this all went through a rigorous testing with sample audiences made up of real women, right? So we can't completely blame the stupid, sexist marketing nitwits. That means some people actually think this is funny and clever. I mean, they've completely rebranded their "lite" products, so obviously a lot of money, time and planning went into this. Just like the ads that show women climaxing over cleaning products, it's meant as distorting feminism to think worrying about this stuff is empowering.
With only 30 seconds to showcase a product, I understand that advertisers don't have time to be completely politically correct in commercials. But come on...this shit is PLAYED OUT. If your target audience is dieting women, be straightforward. Say, "You love chips and these chips taste great and have less calories." It's as simple as that. Don't pander to your audience by trying to relate to women through ridiculous stereotypes. I, for one, would love it.
Plus, men diet, too. It's true! The new kinder, gentler packaging and "women be shoppin'" advertising is excluding at least half your audience. If the chips aren't selling, it's because they're too fucking expensive! Not because of your commercials. Come on, ad agencies...can't we all just get along?
Either way, I'm buying Pringles Lite until they straighten this BS out. At least they fill the can to the top instead of filling half of it with air.
PS The website also invites you to "be one of the girls" by creating your own noseless, club-handed avatar. That's me above. Don't you just love my yellow shoes? Totally hot, right?
Fuck it. This has been bugging the shit out of me for a while.
I used to eat Baked Lays chips all the time, 'cause they're pretty good. But now, I just can't bring myself to reach for a bag while grocery shopping, thanks to the Frito-Lay Only In A Woman's World advertising campaign. And I thought Martyrs was scary. But the first time I saw one of these commercials, I was truly horrified. I literally stared, mouth agape, in disbelief at the television even after the two-freaking-minute-long ad ended. Have you seen this stuff?
Against my better judgement, I had to know more. Yes, it's true: Frito-Lay, makers of some of the most delicious salty snacks in all the land, including of course Fritos, Doritos, Cheetos, Tostitos, Funyuns, Miss Vickies chips and Ruffles, are now marketing their Baked Lays, SmartFood and Flat Earth (i.e. "lite") products to chicks with the most inane, vapid and stereotypical advertising they could possibly come up with.
The ads center around four cartoon broads with no noses and club hands who are "navigating life and love" and "fab, funny, fearlessly female." Yes, everyone...they have uteruses and they're not afraid to use them! Something tells me the people who came up with these ads *don't* and *are*.
The campaign's website has bios of each of the chicks. We have Anna, an Asian chick who loves yoga and is a journalist (which is one of those acceptable careers for women in TV and movies, along with teacher, interior designer and event planner). Then we have Cheryl, a black mom who ignores calls from her personal trainer and "sometimes finds herself wishing the annoyingly perfect super-mom next door would have a mental breakdown." Next there's Maya, fashion boutique owner who "hides how much she spends on shopping from her husband." Finally, there's Nikki, an arty singleton who says, "Shopping for cereal was a lot more fun when I cared more about the toy than the fiber!"
We'll get to the blatant female stereotypes in a sec, because we also have a lot of fun racial and looks-based pigeonholing here, too. The Asian does yoga. The black woman drops everything to be supportive. The blonde has big boobs and loves fashion (and lies to her spouse about her out-of-control spending). The redhead is wacky and flighty. It's like According to Jim in cartoon form.
Now we get to the "webisodes." This explains why the original commercial I saw was way too fucking long. They're all meant to be like mini, comic Sex In The City episodes. The first one introduces us to "the girls." One is wearing control top panty hose under a bikini. Another destroys a scale because "we had a misunderstanding." The redhead eats a cookie standing up because "then it doesn't count, right?" (Huh? I don't get it). Already, I have no further interest in any of these people, cartoon or not. Nor do they resemble me or anyone I know. And yet, I forge on for the sake of Stupid & Contagious.
So. I'm going to just give you a little rundown on each of the webisodes, and we'll go from there. And oh my freaking god, there are NINE OF THEM.
• OK, this is the one I saw on TV that left me catatonic with disbelief. The "premier" starts off with the blonde using a Thighmaster and chanting "bikini, bikini, bikini." When the phone rings, the Thighmaster flies across the room and breaks "her skinny mirror." The redhead is crying and all the gals assemble to be good shoulders for her to lean on (and one even gets a crotch buzz from her vibrating phone and blushes) and of course she's sobbing over a guy "Giancarlo" who is leaving her. After the ladies run through a cavalcade of guys the redhead has obsessed over, she reveals that Giancarlo is her hairdresser. And that's when they all go apeshit.
• One of the ladies has the flu and the friends stop by to cheer her up, 'cause that's what true friends do! The sick one says she hasn't been able to eat in days and she's lost four pounds. The others gush "You're so lucky!" and she says "I know! I can almost fit into my skinny jeans!"
• The blonde is having coffee with the black chick before she leaves for a vacation in Mexico. The black chick asks her if she's ready "all over" for a getaway. OK, have you ever in your life asked someone if they're ready for a vacation by asking them if they've waxed? I mean, SERIOUSLY?? Anyway, it gets worse: the blonde then imagines herself disrobing at the beach and people running and screaming because she's pale, hairy and had unclipped toenails. For the love of god...
• One of the gals is at a cosmetics counter with very rosy cheeks. A blonde bimbot says "love your blush". Gal says "Hot flash!" What the hell does this have to do with chips? They are never mentioned or shown!
• The gals are discussing a beautiful day and saying, "You know what this means!" Picnics! Horseback riding! Outdoor yoga for the Asian! And...bikini season! Suddenly everyone is depressed and ordering shit with skim. Again, what does this have to do with chips?? And if this is supposed to encourage us to eat something, this is a really bizarre approach...
• Asian yoga chick is having a nightmare. First a glasses-clad feminist says "Women can do anything!" Then, her mother pops into her mind to say "where are my grandchildren??" Feminist says, "We're more than baby factories! We're strong independent human beings!" Mom says, "You can have a career after the kids leave home!" Then a boyfriend-type character wakes up and puts his arm around her, which sends her into hysterics, yelling, "I can't take all this pressure!" Then mom says, "You should never make the man in your life feel inadequate, dear!" Again, no chips and WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCK??
• Black chick's husband says they're taking a little Mother's Day trip to a B&B and he's packed her bags for her. They're wearing robes, sipping champagne with their club hands by a warm fire. She says she thinks she should "change" but her brain-dead hubby didn't pack anything that matches!! She bitches at him for not bringing makeup...but he did! A curling iron and some kind of compact! "But I don't curl my hair!" she screams. But she really doesn't care, it's the thought that counts. Then they go out for dinner and *everyone* is staring at her and gasping in horror at her mismatched outfit and garish makeup. Because when you go out, you have to wear makeup even when only shitty, outdated makeup is available . Criminy.
• The blonde is negotiating with a diner chef to have one more piece of pie. She's got plates piled up all around her, like she's had two whole pies already. She told him one slice ago to not respond to threats to his family for another. But then she says, "You do something for me and I'll do something for you" and winks. Jesus H. Christ, she's going to BLOW HIM FOR PIE?? Instead, she gets in his face and demands it, so he gives in. When she's done scarfing it down, she says, "Why did you let me eat that?" OK, pie...not chips. And are we supposed to eat the product or not?? I'm so confused!
• The blonde and Yoga Asian are on treadmills and Blonde is listening to a self-help tape, chanting "I'm bringing out the thin within. Size is just a state of mind. The only thing holding me back is me" and turning up the speed on the treadmill. Her friend asks what exactly the tape is supposed to accomplish and she responds, "To help me maintain control...and fit into a certain dress by Friday." Then she flies off the treadmill and the friend quips "I'm sure that dress will look great...over your full body cast!" HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! When women try to control themselves, it always ends in hilarity!
So here we have:
• Hysteria over hairdressing
• Shoe worship
• Jealousy over other women
• Frivolous grooming
• Weight loss through physical illness (and praise for it)
• Depression over "bikini season"
• Total freak-outs over food
• Men portrayed as clueless idiots
• Compulsive exercise
• Ad nauseum mention of cankles, water weight and hot flashes
What exactly is the goal here? Are we supposed to eat Baked Lays, SmartFood and Flat Earth snacks or not? Because all these ads seem to be geared toward guilt over putting anything in your mouth besides a penis. I mean COME ON! Offensive doesn't even begin to accurately describe this. It's also completely convoluted! In essence, they're saying "Hey, here are our salty, delicious snacks! Since you can't control yourself and stop from eating them, we'll make you feel as guilty as possible for being a fat, vapid failure." Why don't chip companies advertise their wares by showing drunk chicks pigging out on salty snacks with no remorse whatsoever? Funny, clever AND realistic!
I'm guessing this all went through a rigorous testing with sample audiences made up of real women, right? So we can't completely blame the stupid, sexist marketing nitwits. That means some people actually think this is funny and clever. I mean, they've completely rebranded their "lite" products, so obviously a lot of money, time and planning went into this. Just like the ads that show women climaxing over cleaning products, it's meant as distorting feminism to think worrying about this stuff is empowering.
With only 30 seconds to showcase a product, I understand that advertisers don't have time to be completely politically correct in commercials. But come on...this shit is PLAYED OUT. If your target audience is dieting women, be straightforward. Say, "You love chips and these chips taste great and have less calories." It's as simple as that. Don't pander to your audience by trying to relate to women through ridiculous stereotypes. I, for one, would love it.
Plus, men diet, too. It's true! The new kinder, gentler packaging and "women be shoppin'" advertising is excluding at least half your audience. If the chips aren't selling, it's because they're too fucking expensive! Not because of your commercials. Come on, ad agencies...can't we all just get along? Either way, I'm buying Pringles Lite until they straighten this BS out. At least they fill the can to the top instead of filling half of it with air.
PS The website also invites you to "be one of the girls" by creating your own noseless, club-handed avatar. That's me above. Don't you just love my yellow shoes? Totally hot, right?
6/25/2009
Feather for Farrah
We've lost another television queen today. Farrah Fawcett passed away after a particularly nasty battle with cancer. In honor of this Hollywood legend, I've feathered my hair. If you've never seen The Burning Bed, be sure to check it out. Farrah is awesome in it.
UPDATE: I will not be blowing out my hair in honor of Jacko, FYI.
6/19/2009
True tales of horror and depravity
Men reject their prophets and slay them, but they love their martyrs and honor those whom they have slain.— Fyodor Dostoyevsky
I'm not even sure where to begin on this one. It's taken me a while to really post on it, because the movie made me think for a while. Wow...it's been a while.
Not too long ago, I thought Funny Games was the scariest movie I've ever seen. If you're a horror fan, watch the original Austrian version. If you're a watch-through-the-fingers type, watch the American version, starring Naomi Watts, Tim Roth and Michael Pitt. Both will elicit equal amounts of horror, depending on your horror experience. The American version is a shot-for-shot remake of the original by the same director, Michael Haneke. It's just scarier for horror fans when you don't know the actors. At least for me.
Part of why I'm writing about this now is the impending U.S. release of Lars von Trier's Antichrist. I've only seen two von Trier films and loved/was emotionally scarred for life by both. If you haven't heard about this movie, it stars Willem DaFoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg, and that's it. Yes, that's THE Charlotte Gainsbourg, originally made famous by the creeptastical duet she did with her father Serge at age 13, "Lemon Incest." And it features a rusty-scissor clitorectomy. Which caused some haughty Cannes attendees to require medical attention.
The horror genre has needed a slap in the throat since Hostel, in my humble opinion. In order, the scariest movies I ever seen were Halloween, The Omen, Rosemary's Baby, The Last House on the Left, The Exorcist, The Changeling, (the George C. Scott one, not the Angie J. one), Hostel, The Ring...and now this.
I watched Martyrs. This is a French horror film that's been getting quite a bit of buzz. On Rotten Tomatoes, it's divided exactly down the middle: 50/50 positive and negative reviews. Some say it's the torture porn disguised as a "higher meaning" thinker. Others say it is brilliant, brutal and groundbreaking.
This is officially the movie that is taking horror to the next level, again, in my humble opinion. No one is terrified by seeing slutty high-schoolers or dopey sorority chicks getting slashed and burned anymore. And because of the never-ending Saw franchise, no one wants to see people who deserve it in general get it in a super-creative way anymore. Now it's all about the higher meaning.
If you're a horror fan, don't click on that Rotten Tomatoes link...actually DON'T READ ANYTHING ABOUT MARTYRS if you haven't seen it.
As a horror-movie aficionado, I can tell you I have never seen anything like this. For a while we were all fascinated with the Japan/Asia horror films. Battle Royale, Ringu, Ju-on, A Tale of Two Sisters, Shutter, Ōdishon, One Missed Call...all good movies (some of which were made into inferior U.S. versions [excepting The Ring, in my humble opinion]) that inspired an uprise in supernatural horror. Now, it's all about the French. I couldn't make it through Man Bites Dog.
But I made it through this, albeit reluctantly, because it was not only completely horrifying, but also completely compelling. What the fuck is going on? Spoilers: it goes from supernatural horror flick to revenge flick to supernatural horror flick to OH MY FUCKING GOD horror flick to existential I-think-I-almost-understand-why flick.
I love violent movies, but this has the most horrifying abuse I've ever seen put on film. As a bleeding heart, it was really hard to make it through...but it's worth it to stick with it. The acting is superb, the story is fantastically intriguing and the horror is most certainly not torture porn. But you don't really know until you reach the very end. Just stick it out, if you can, and you'll be thinking about the movie and its themes for days. It will make you wonder why you watch this stuff and why you like it, and you'll be glad it's only a movie, but you'll still feel really dirty for a long time, if you're like me...and if you're like me, you'll love it. 'cause it's totally smart and brilliant and a horrifying look at human fear.
Now consider that there are currently negotiations going on to make an American version. WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPEN, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD? Why can't people just let good foreign horror movies be? Once you've seen it, try to imagine it being made with, say, Megan Fox and Jessica Alba in the two lead roles. Completely ridic and depressing.
So I think because I made it through Martyrs, I might be able to finally make it through Man Bites Dog. And I've been told I need to give Cannibal Holocaust a try. Um, OK. I love all you sickos who recommend these movies to me. Watch Martyrs and we'll go from there. Love ya!
P.S. Serious horror fans, don't even bother with Inside (À l'intérieur). Stupid and like a V.C. Andrews novel come to life. Casual horror fans, see it immediately, 'cause it's pretty good! But just not really that scary.
6/18/2009
All about Awkward
I have to do a short, praise-y post about my new favorite website Awkward Family Photos. I seriously laughed my ass off for an hour. Unfortch, I'm not able to surf the net with the ease that I used to at work due to firewalls, exposure, etc. But this is an awesome way to kill some time when you're bored at work or a any other time. Please be sure to check out the comments because they really make the site. And also it will make the compound bow jokes make sense.
Rock n' roll.
Rock n' roll.
6/11/2009
You learn something new every day
Did you know that Crunchberries aren't real berries??*
I feel duped. What about Booberries? Frankenberries? I thought they were all made with real froot! I mean fruit.
Speaking of (dingle)berries, I'm sure Jenny McCarthy already knew this, given that she's cutting everything out of her diet and blogging all about it on Oprah's Hausfrau Central website. Crunchberries are just full of unpronounceable ingredients that, when eaten, can make children retarded. Hey, Fruity Pebbles and Cinnamon Toast Crunch were practically food groups for me as a kid, and look how I turned out!
Obsessive, that's how I turned out. I simply can't get enough of Jenny McCarthy's idiocy. It's like watching a dog eating it's own shit. Jenny thinks she's smarter than doctors and on to something. And the dog thinks it produced it's own dinner.
It's no wonder she's such a fucking wackadoo when this is what she eats every day:
A few questions: how can you have bread without yeast? And how can one sugar-free, gluten-free, casein-free "cookie" qualify as a "yummy treat"? A yummy treat is a biggie Heath Bar Blizzard with a side of Double-Stuf Oreos dipped in root beer float...sauce. A diet like that is enough to turn anyone into a brain-dead parrot for cultish anti-science movement. How much sugar and yeast and gluten are in boogers anyway, Jen?
Can you believe Oprah is giving this dimbulb her own show? I always felt a little neutral toward Oprah, until recently, and it's all because of Jenny. Oh, and Chrissy Snow! The Thighmaster lady. The mom on CBS Block Party staple Step By Step. The sheriff on She's the Sheriff. That's Suzanne Somers. This bitch might be even crazier than Jenny, if you can believe it. OK, you probably can believe it.
Since her esteemed acting career slowed down, Suzanne has reinvented herself as an alt-med guru. She's written books on weight loss, sex and aging, all with an unusual twist. Basically, Suze is a huge advocate of pumping yourself full of estrogen to keep yourself young. That includes taking more than 60 non-FDA-regulated supplements every single day, drinking sludgy smoothies, rubbing estrogen cream into your arms and injecting estrogen into your vagina.
*record scratching sound*
Yes, you read that right. Suzanne Somers recently went on Oprah and shared her daily regimen† with O's minions, which includes INJECTING ESTROGEN DIRECTLY INTO HER COOTCH. No motherfucking shit.
Who cares? you may ask. Suzanne Somers an aging jiggle TV bimbo with a brain the size of a baby pea. Yes, that is true. But there are also lots of people in Oprah's audience of flying monkeys that are aging couch potatoes with brains the size of baby peas. So they might think that injecting female hormones directly into the vag is a good idea. There was apparently no mention of the fact that Suzanne also had to get a hysterectomy due to uterine bleeding. Instead Oprah foamed at the mouth saying that some people might think Suzanne is nuts, "but she just might be a pioneer."
A pioneer of a whole new brand of crazy, never before studied by scientists. Suzanne, like Jenny, seems to have gone into some kind of third dimension of delusion. It's sort of like a militia with Jimmy Choos and Botox. I wonder what it's like to live in that world, giddily immune to reason and logic. Wheee! It's fun! It's all about being powerful!
In fact, here's what Jenny herself says about taking charge and washing all those pesky voices of reason out of your head:
Glad it took LARRY KING to make Jenny see how far "weve" come. She's certainly got a way to go on grammar and punctuation. And so inspiring that you don't have to be famous or rich to have power or self-worth! All that chatter from that bitch in my head prattling on and on about who's after me, who's trying to stop me, who's trying to silence me. Kicking sugar is the answer, people. Follow Jenny on her quest for power.
You know what else raises your self-worth? Having bigger boobs! Jenny sez:
Hahahaha! Oh, Jenny! You and Suzanne and your estrogen overload!
* There are some real zingers in that Crunchberry story:
† Forgive me for linking to the Huffington Post.
I feel duped. What about Booberries? Frankenberries? I thought they were all made with real froot! I mean fruit.
Speaking of (dingle)berries, I'm sure Jenny McCarthy already knew this, given that she's cutting everything out of her diet and blogging all about it on Oprah's Hausfrau Central website. Crunchberries are just full of unpronounceable ingredients that, when eaten, can make children retarded. Hey, Fruity Pebbles and Cinnamon Toast Crunch were practically food groups for me as a kid, and look how I turned out!
Obsessive, that's how I turned out. I simply can't get enough of Jenny McCarthy's idiocy. It's like watching a dog eating it's own shit. Jenny thinks she's smarter than doctors and on to something. And the dog thinks it produced it's own dinner.
It's no wonder she's such a fucking wackadoo when this is what she eats every day:
Breakfast:
Emergen-C drink pack with stevia and lemon in warm water
Two eggs over easy on gluten-free, yeast-free, casein-free, sugar-free bread
Lunch:
Salad with no-sugar salad dressing and some veggie soup
Snack:
Pears or watermelon
Dinner:
Turkey with butternut squash
Yummy treat:
Nana's cookie, sugar-free, gluten-free, casein-free
A few questions: how can you have bread without yeast? And how can one sugar-free, gluten-free, casein-free "cookie" qualify as a "yummy treat"? A yummy treat is a biggie Heath Bar Blizzard with a side of Double-Stuf Oreos dipped in root beer float...sauce. A diet like that is enough to turn anyone into a brain-dead parrot for cultish anti-science movement. How much sugar and yeast and gluten are in boogers anyway, Jen?
Can you believe Oprah is giving this dimbulb her own show? I always felt a little neutral toward Oprah, until recently, and it's all because of Jenny. Oh, and Chrissy Snow! The Thighmaster lady. The mom on CBS Block Party staple Step By Step. The sheriff on She's the Sheriff. That's Suzanne Somers. This bitch might be even crazier than Jenny, if you can believe it. OK, you probably can believe it.
Since her esteemed acting career slowed down, Suzanne has reinvented herself as an alt-med guru. She's written books on weight loss, sex and aging, all with an unusual twist. Basically, Suze is a huge advocate of pumping yourself full of estrogen to keep yourself young. That includes taking more than 60 non-FDA-regulated supplements every single day, drinking sludgy smoothies, rubbing estrogen cream into your arms and injecting estrogen into your vagina.
*record scratching sound*
Yes, you read that right. Suzanne Somers recently went on Oprah and shared her daily regimen† with O's minions, which includes INJECTING ESTROGEN DIRECTLY INTO HER COOTCH. No motherfucking shit.
Who cares? you may ask. Suzanne Somers an aging jiggle TV bimbo with a brain the size of a baby pea. Yes, that is true. But there are also lots of people in Oprah's audience of flying monkeys that are aging couch potatoes with brains the size of baby peas. So they might think that injecting female hormones directly into the vag is a good idea. There was apparently no mention of the fact that Suzanne also had to get a hysterectomy due to uterine bleeding. Instead Oprah foamed at the mouth saying that some people might think Suzanne is nuts, "but she just might be a pioneer."
A pioneer of a whole new brand of crazy, never before studied by scientists. Suzanne, like Jenny, seems to have gone into some kind of third dimension of delusion. It's sort of like a militia with Jimmy Choos and Botox. I wonder what it's like to live in that world, giddily immune to reason and logic. Wheee! It's fun! It's all about being powerful!
In fact, here's what Jenny herself says about taking charge and washing all those pesky voices of reason out of your head:
[all sic] Im watching Larry King right now. He is doing a show about powerful women. Amazing to watch. amazing to see how far weve come. Most of it talks about having self worth. So true. I dont believe you have to be famous or rich to have power or self worth. I think the stay at home mom could be more powerful than anyone if she has a strong sense of herself. One of the women on the show talked about our chatter that goes on in our heads. The chatter of not being good enough, skinny enough or rich enough. This chatter could lower our self worth. Its so true!! Who is that voice?! That bitch comes out when I PMS and I cant get her to shut up. They gave some tips to quiet the chatter.... take care of yourself, be self sufficiant, love yourself and that chatter becomes a whisper. It makes sense to me. Kicking sugar along with all the other things Ive given up makes me believe that because Im taking care of myself Im building up my self worth. If youve been on this journey with me this month or just joining, you too are coming into your power. Woo hoo! Ladies! The era of enlightenment is here!
Glad it took LARRY KING to make Jenny see how far "weve" come. She's certainly got a way to go on grammar and punctuation. And so inspiring that you don't have to be famous or rich to have power or self-worth! All that chatter from that bitch in my head prattling on and on about who's after me, who's trying to stop me, who's trying to silence me. Kicking sugar is the answer, people. Follow Jenny on her quest for power.
You know what else raises your self-worth? Having bigger boobs! Jenny sez:
I'm glad to be back home. I missed Evan. I missed American food. It was amazing to watch the French eat though. Creams, breads, sorbets, smoking, drinking wine and the women were all skinny and gorgeous. What the hell is that about? I'm hanging in there for no sugar. I hope you are too. The French might be able to get away with eating whatever they want, but at least American girls have bigger boobs. Hahaha.
Hahahaha! Oh, Jenny! You and Suzanne and your estrogen overload!
* There are some real zingers in that Crunchberry story:
The plaintiff, Janine Sugawara, alleged that she had only recently learned to her dismay that said "berries" were in fact simply brightly-colored cereal balls, and that although the product did contain some strawberry fruit concentrate, it was not otherwise redeemed by fruit.
According to the complaint, Sugawara and other consumers were misled not only by the use of the word "berries" in the name, but also by the front of the box, which features the product's namesake, Cap'n Crunch, aggressively "thrusting a spoonful of 'Crunchberries' at the prospective buyer."
...while the challenged packaging contains the word "berries" it does so only in conjunction with the descriptive term "crunch." This Court is not aware of, nor has Plaintiff alleged the existence of, any actual fruit referred to as a "crunchberry."
† Forgive me for linking to the Huffington Post.
5/31/2009
I can now die happy
I have seen Jane's Addiction, original lineup, in concert. And it could not have been more badass. I saw the show two nights in a row. Does that officially make me a groupie? I think I saw a few real groupies...you can always tell because they wear stilettos to concerts.
Anyway, I'm in a bit of a daze so this post is going to be about as gushy fangirl as I'm going to get around here. The first night Jane's played on their own and the second night they played with Nine Inch Nails (who were kickass, as usual). We got trapped in the rain both nights. We also saw a guy in some kind of a bear mascot costume waiting sadly under an overpass until the rain stopped, which really put the sprinkles on top of the entire delicious cupcake of an evening.
Jane's stuck to the old stuff. None of this Entourage theme song business. They kicked both sets off with "Three Days." We also had the pleasure of hearing:
"Ain't No Right"
"Whores"
"Then She Did"
"Ted, Just Admit It..."
"Up The Beach"
"Pigs In Zen"
"Mountain Song"
"Had A Dad"
"Been Caught Stealing"
"Ocean Size"
"1%"
Encore:
"Summertime Rolls"
"Stop!"
"Jane Says"
I of course turned into this jumpy, screamy, whirling freakshow who knew all the words. I even shed little tear when they played "Summertime Rolls", which is my favorite song of all time. I think I was really annoying my neighbors.
Perry Farrell is 50 years old, if you can believe that. His stage style is this blend of Freddy Mercury, the Pied Piper of Hamelin, a ringmaster and a pole dancer. He said weird things to the crowd and strutted around all cock-of-the-walk style. He sounded amazing.
I made a bet with my concertmates as to how long it would take before Navarro was shirtless on stage. He came out wearing a useless vest both nights, which was gone by the third song. Oh, Dave...such a media whore! But he wailed and swaggered like he really meant it. Since he divorced Carmen and stopped doing reality TV (for now), I forgive him.
Stephen Perkins is officially the most underrated drummer in rock. He's simply awesome. And he drummed in his underpants, before donning a sweet Utilikilt.
Of course, Eric's return made the whole night for me. I believe that if you're simply using a bass player to back up the bass drum, you shouldn't have one. Too often bass players are relegated to the job of making the song a little bit heavier by plinking out the base E-A-G and then drinking all the band's beer at practice. Bass lines can make the songs and Eric's bass lines make the songs. For a good example, listen to "Then She Did." Listen to the whole song! If you're too lazy, "Been Caught Stealing" is another good example.
Anyway, when the encore ended I noticed Eric sitting on stage just staring at the crowd and seemingly really incredulous about the whole experience. Despite all the band differences in the past, it was good to see that he seemed to be having a great time.
I'm sure music critics everywhere (not naming names on the Cowtown ones, but anyone who lives here knows who I'm talking about) are hunting for things to nitpick about the show, but my official last word on everything is that it was perfect. A rabid Jane's fan could not have asked for anything more.
Thank you, boys.
P.S. For your enjoyment, here is a very good interview with Eric that gives you a good overview of what he's all about.
P.P.S. Per my last post, I was wrong. Apparently the Lakers rule and the Cavs drool. I admit defeat. But I don't like it.
5/28/2009
Life and other bullshit
Sorry for the lack of posts of late. Work has been kicking my ass and it's NBA playoff time. Plus, I'm lazy. Anyway, this weekend I will be seeing Jane's Addiction TWICE. That's right...two nights in a row, no less! You can expect a full review with all the juicy dees, so you'll have that to look forward to next week. Be sure to get a good night's sleep!
Cavs rule, Lakers drool!
Cavs rule, Lakers drool!
5/19/2009
The poop nazi
Just when you thought GOOP/STOOP was the stupidest blog on the internets, along comes something that makes Gwynnie look like a paragon of logic and reason. Yes, there is officially an even dumber "lifestyle newsletter" that will force little miss Paltrow work that much harder win the Stupid & Contagious Most Crushing Online Idiocy™ award.
Who is the person responsible for this monumental feat? Why it's Jenny McCarthy, former Playboy Playmate and MTV shill- turned-antivaccine kooktard! Oprah, who has already shoved Dr. Phil and Ekhart Tolle down our throats, has decided it would be a great idea to give Jenny a blog and a talk show of her own, thereby giving her more mediums to peddle her "save measles, polio and rubella from extinction" propaganda.
Before I make fun of her blog, it should be noted that Jenny, who became famous by picking her nose and eating her own vomit on television, and her boyfriend Jim Carrey are currently the spokesbimbos of a movement of SUV-driving soccer parents that believe childhood vaccines cause autism. Before Jenny's son Evan was diagnosed as being on the autism spectrum, she believed he was a psychic crystal child who was part of an emerging group of "human angels."
Seriously.
After he was diagnosed, she dropped the crystal child schtick and started putting him through all sorts of crazy diets and alternative therapies, including chelation metal detox, which is extremely dangerous, toxic and potentially fatal.
SERIOUSLY.
She also recently said this to TIME magazine:
In other words, she believes this is acceptable. So, you know, she's exactly the kind of person you'd want to be taking health and diet advice from! Thanks, Oprah!
The Jenny show thankfully hasn't started yet, but she's full speed ahead on her ridiculous blog already. If she wasn't so fucking annoying and adamant about spreading dangerous pseudoscience, I'd almost feel sorry for her, as the poor thing's brain seems to have stopped growing around age five. She writes like she's been on a five-day Adderall bender. Behold a few words of wisdom from the brain trust that is Jenny McCarthy (all sic):
If that didn't make you LOL or POTK (puke on the keyboard), then wait until you hear about this crazy diet she's on! Because Jenny is into all manner of spiritual/holistic gobbledegook, she's urging the readers of her page to join her in a special "Give It Up By Summer" purge. What's she giving up?
• wheat
• dairy
• refined sugar
• caffeine
• alcohol
• smoking
• yeast
Add to that list: fun, enjoyment, pleasure, excitement and anything interesting to talk about. You know people who diet like this have nothing to talk about except their diet, whether it's to bitch about it or get all self-righteous about it. Jenny is in the second group. She thinks she's on to something that "doctors" and "nutritionists" and "people with more than two brain cells to rub together" can't figure out.
She's so into it that she devotes an entire post to complaining about how airport security wouldn't let her take her sugar-free strawberry jelly on the plane. She even took a picture of the jelly jar, which she refers to as "the last photo of my dear friend", before the security fascists made her throw it in the trash. This seriously seems to have ruined her entire day. I guess she must have missed the giant signs plastered over every inch of the airport and loud announcements every 30 seconds about how you're not allowed to take liquids of more than 3 oz. on board. Jelly is a liquid, Jenny. Or she just didn't care and assumed that because she's a STAH she can do whatever she wants. Bitch!
Most of her posts center around her diet and how hard it is and other tired, overdone, "sigh, it's so hard being a woman!" blathering. "I hate clothes shopping!" "I found a gray hair!" "I miss chocolate!" She obviously gets blog topic ideas from Cathy cartoons.
But the saddest part (so far) is the post she did about poop. Not surprising that Jenny McCarthy would discuss poop, right? But this post is enough to make you demand CPS moves in and gets Evan out of that crazy house as soon as humanly possible. Here's why:
She continually monitors Evan's poop and SENDS IT TO LABS FOR TESTING??? The kid is seven years old—old enough that his little friends are going to find out and kick his ass to the point where no hyperbaric chamber can help him. I'm sorry, but this is child abuse. Jenny McCarthy is a monster!
And it gets worse. After sending her own shit off for a lab test, she became even more convinced that her entire family's bodies are loaded with crud.
Can you imagine her staring out the window waiting nervously for the mailman to deliver her lab tests? And her mouth dropping open with horror when she discovers she's spilling over with yeast? And now, after taking an "antifungal" (like what, Lotrimin?), her shits can only be described as phenomenal? And did she say gnarly?
Her preoccupation with poop is psychotic. I looked it up (and you shouldn't because some really weird shit—literally—came up) and she is a copromaniac! I already knew Oprah was a kook magnet, but this is beyond ridiculous. Jenny McCarthy must be stopped! Every time you see her, take her sugar-free jelly away...it's like kryptonite! Then, bombard her from every angle with sugary snacks, cigarettes and anything yeasty. Don't stop until she promises to say she loves vaccines!
She and Gwyneth should get together and talk about their favorite cleanses and how to suck the joy, fun and excitement out of
every meal, conversation and aspect of life they can think of. And maybe Jenny can recruit Gwyneth to join her crusade to kill kids. It'll be fun!
Speaking of Paltrow, this week in STOOP, Gwynnie and a lineup of "super cool music experts" like Samantha Ronson, DJ AM and Guy Oseary choose their favorite "party jams." I guess it all depends on what kind of party you want to throw and how much of Madonna's ass you want to kiss. Some of the choices are pretty good and others are...huh? "1979"? "How Soon Is Now"??? Coldplay????? (Guess who picked that one.)
The best part is Gwyneth's painful attempts at sounding cool. She urges readers to get their "mother lovin' dance shoes on." She praises DJ AM's "wicked remixes". Of Gabe Tesoriero of Def Jam, she declares, "his iPod always makes it happen." And of herself, she says, "Gwyneth Paltrow is not a music expert but is an avid listener and knows how to get down." You know, I'm pretty confident that's not true. I could be wrong, but using context clues has served me pretty well in the past.
Also, I'm dying to get in on the action. Here are a few "party jams" for Gwyneth:
"Galang" — M.I.A.
"Galvanize" — The Chemical Brothers
"You Can't Do That To Me" — The Ettes
"Sour Cherry" — The Kills
"Dying In A Nightmare" — Ocean Ghosts
"Little Bitch" — The Specials
"Got To Give It Up" — Marvin Gaye
"Spitfire" — The Prodigy
"Have Love Will Travel" — The Sonics
"Peter Piper" — Run-D.M.C.
Who is the person responsible for this monumental feat? Why it's Jenny McCarthy, former Playboy Playmate and MTV shill- turned-antivaccine kooktard! Oprah, who has already shoved Dr. Phil and Ekhart Tolle down our throats, has decided it would be a great idea to give Jenny a blog and a talk show of her own, thereby giving her more mediums to peddle her "save measles, polio and rubella from extinction" propaganda.
Before I make fun of her blog, it should be noted that Jenny, who became famous by picking her nose and eating her own vomit on television, and her boyfriend Jim Carrey are currently the spokesbimbos of a movement of SUV-driving soccer parents that believe childhood vaccines cause autism. Before Jenny's son Evan was diagnosed as being on the autism spectrum, she believed he was a psychic crystal child who was part of an emerging group of "human angels."
Seriously.
After he was diagnosed, she dropped the crystal child schtick and started putting him through all sorts of crazy diets and alternative therapies, including chelation metal detox, which is extremely dangerous, toxic and potentially fatal.
SERIOUSLY.
She also recently said this to TIME magazine:
I do believe sadly it's going to take some diseases coming back to realize that we need to change and develop vaccines that are safe. If the vaccine companies are not listening to us, it's their fucking fault that the diseases are coming back. They're making a product that's shit. If you give us a safe vaccine, we'll use it. ... If you ask a parent of an autistic child if they want the measles or the autism, we will stand in line for the fucking measles.
In other words, she believes this is acceptable. So, you know, she's exactly the kind of person you'd want to be taking health and diet advice from! Thanks, Oprah!
The Jenny show thankfully hasn't started yet, but she's full speed ahead on her ridiculous blog already. If she wasn't so fucking annoying and adamant about spreading dangerous pseudoscience, I'd almost feel sorry for her, as the poor thing's brain seems to have stopped growing around age five. She writes like she's been on a five-day Adderall bender. Behold a few words of wisdom from the brain trust that is Jenny McCarthy (all sic):
I also found some corn flakes that were fruit-juice sweetened. It's amazing how much you could find when you actually look.
You know those charity chocolate bars that school girls sell for $1? Well, I bought $500 of them! I wonder if I'm gonna detox.
Part of letting go of something sweet makes me feel like I have nothing sweet in my life. Yes, I can look at my beautiful child and awesome husband (yes, I call him that) and know that I have sweetness living with me, but I can't necessarily have them as dessert. Aren't there any chocolate puddings that are sweetened with fruit juice? Can't Willy Wonka himself ring my doorbell right now and say, "Here is the super-dooper-choco-delicious-non-dairy-sugar-free-fruit-juice-sweetened-candy bar" and save me from my PMS/no-sugar blues? Hmmm.
I told Jim the government doesn't need to have spies to find where you are. They can just Twitter you. LOL!
At least I got smart and taught myself to stay away from what I call "the devil" (what most people refer to as high-fructose corn syrup). I would like to get Evan completely off sugar too. God, I hope he doesn't hate me someday! LOL. After all, I've written six books about him so far. You know, as soon as he turns 16, I am sure he is going to write one called, "Mom, Leave Me Alone!" LOL!
Is LOL totally out and hahaha in? I just dunno.
If that didn't make you LOL or POTK (puke on the keyboard), then wait until you hear about this crazy diet she's on! Because Jenny is into all manner of spiritual/holistic gobbledegook, she's urging the readers of her page to join her in a special "Give It Up By Summer" purge. What's she giving up?
• wheat
• dairy
• refined sugar
• caffeine
• alcohol
• smoking
• yeast
Add to that list: fun, enjoyment, pleasure, excitement and anything interesting to talk about. You know people who diet like this have nothing to talk about except their diet, whether it's to bitch about it or get all self-righteous about it. Jenny is in the second group. She thinks she's on to something that "doctors" and "nutritionists" and "people with more than two brain cells to rub together" can't figure out.
She's so into it that she devotes an entire post to complaining about how airport security wouldn't let her take her sugar-free strawberry jelly on the plane. She even took a picture of the jelly jar, which she refers to as "the last photo of my dear friend", before the security fascists made her throw it in the trash. This seriously seems to have ruined her entire day. I guess she must have missed the giant signs plastered over every inch of the airport and loud announcements every 30 seconds about how you're not allowed to take liquids of more than 3 oz. on board. Jelly is a liquid, Jenny. Or she just didn't care and assumed that because she's a STAH she can do whatever she wants. Bitch!
Most of her posts center around her diet and how hard it is and other tired, overdone, "sigh, it's so hard being a woman!" blathering. "I hate clothes shopping!" "I found a gray hair!" "I miss chocolate!" She obviously gets blog topic ideas from Cathy cartoons.
But the saddest part (so far) is the post she did about poop. Not surprising that Jenny McCarthy would discuss poop, right? But this post is enough to make you demand CPS moves in and gets Evan out of that crazy house as soon as humanly possible. Here's why:
I continuously monitor Evan's poop by sending it to labs to get tested to make sure things are all running smoothly (no yeast, no bacteria, no infections). Sometimes these things can exist without any physical manifestations, so I like to test for them to make sure he is in perfect health.
She continually monitors Evan's poop and SENDS IT TO LABS FOR TESTING??? The kid is seven years old—old enough that his little friends are going to find out and kick his ass to the point where no hyperbaric chamber can help him. I'm sorry, but this is child abuse. Jenny McCarthy is a monster!
And it gets worse. After sending her own shit off for a lab test, she became even more convinced that her entire family's bodies are loaded with crud.
Low and behold, my tests came back and I'm a mess! I have two gnarly gut bugs, and I have extremely high amounts of yeast in my gut. So, I started myself on an antifungal, and my poops have been phenomenal! Yeast, yeast, yeast, all coming out!
Can you imagine her staring out the window waiting nervously for the mailman to deliver her lab tests? And her mouth dropping open with horror when she discovers she's spilling over with yeast? And now, after taking an "antifungal" (like what, Lotrimin?), her shits can only be described as phenomenal? And did she say gnarly?
Her preoccupation with poop is psychotic. I looked it up (and you shouldn't because some really weird shit—literally—came up) and she is a copromaniac! I already knew Oprah was a kook magnet, but this is beyond ridiculous. Jenny McCarthy must be stopped! Every time you see her, take her sugar-free jelly away...it's like kryptonite! Then, bombard her from every angle with sugary snacks, cigarettes and anything yeasty. Don't stop until she promises to say she loves vaccines!
She and Gwyneth should get together and talk about their favorite cleanses and how to suck the joy, fun and excitement out of
every meal, conversation and aspect of life they can think of. And maybe Jenny can recruit Gwyneth to join her crusade to kill kids. It'll be fun!
Speaking of Paltrow, this week in STOOP, Gwynnie and a lineup of "super cool music experts" like Samantha Ronson, DJ AM and Guy Oseary choose their favorite "party jams." I guess it all depends on what kind of party you want to throw and how much of Madonna's ass you want to kiss. Some of the choices are pretty good and others are...huh? "1979"? "How Soon Is Now"??? Coldplay????? (Guess who picked that one.)
The best part is Gwyneth's painful attempts at sounding cool. She urges readers to get their "mother lovin' dance shoes on." She praises DJ AM's "wicked remixes". Of Gabe Tesoriero of Def Jam, she declares, "his iPod always makes it happen." And of herself, she says, "Gwyneth Paltrow is not a music expert but is an avid listener and knows how to get down." You know, I'm pretty confident that's not true. I could be wrong, but using context clues has served me pretty well in the past.
Also, I'm dying to get in on the action. Here are a few "party jams" for Gwyneth:
"Galang" — M.I.A.
"Galvanize" — The Chemical Brothers
"You Can't Do That To Me" — The Ettes
"Sour Cherry" — The Kills
"Dying In A Nightmare" — Ocean Ghosts
"Little Bitch" — The Specials
"Got To Give It Up" — Marvin Gaye
"Spitfire" — The Prodigy
"Have Love Will Travel" — The Sonics
"Peter Piper" — Run-D.M.C.
5/07/2009
Important request
Today is the National Day of Prayer. It is also my birthday. Please stop praying, as my petty birthday wishes are being ignored. I want a record player, a trip to Belgium and the Netherlands and a real Guns N' Roses reunion.
That is all.
That is all.
4/27/2009
Welcome to the dollhouse
Oh, goody! It's my most favorite time of year! Time for People mag to put out their annual 50 Most Beautiful People issue! With all this depressing talk about job loss and foreclosure and swine flu, we need more images of attractive people to make us feel better. Enough with ugly people like Susan Boyle. (By the way, can you believe someone that looks like that has a talent? It's sort of like when Quasimodo came down from the bell tower to perform in the Festival of Fools...she's the Fools' Pope!)OK, seriously...this shit is very timely because I'm mystified at all the rage over Susan Boyle. People are acting as if she's the most hideous person to ever walk the face of the earth. It's so ridiculous. I saw an article that said everyone loves Susan because she's proof that dreams can come true. Well, imagine that! It's as if she was deserving of an appearance-based ritual killing, like a Tanzanian albino. But then she sang, and proved to the world that she deserves to live. Hey, kids, dreams DO come true! Just less often for people who don't look like Frieda Pinto.
"It's what's on the inside that counts!" That feel-good message that's been trumpeted through the treetops to brokenhearted youngsters for ages is the biggest lie ever told. Susan Boyle's a great singer and seems like a very nice lady...but everyone's still just talking about how she looks. Kathy Bates is a fantastic Oscar-winning actress. So is Penelope Cruz. And all you hear about are their looks. Hillary Clinton, Sarah Palin, Nancy Pelosi...name any woman in politics and you probably know more about what they look like than the minutiae of their careers. Hillary has cankles—off with her head!
The Most Beautiful issue always sets me off. It makes me feel like Dawn Weiner. It's like People magazine barged in on me in a bathroom stall and I cry, "Why do you hate me, People?" and People responds, "Because you're ugly."
Naturally, we have the requisite breathless "Beauty at any age!" write-up. The People website actually says "Vanessa! Halle! Christie! These gorgeous gals prove that true beauty is timeless!" Why just look at Eva Mendes, age 35. "I'm not at all ashamed or frightened about showing my body," Eva tells People. She's so brave...an elderly gal like her posing nude! And how about Halle Berry, who is 42? "Sexiness is a state of mind—a comfortable state of being," she opines. "It's about loving yourself in your most unlovable moments." Wow, thanks, Halle! I'm sure being deemed one of People's 50 Most Beautiful every single year keeps you from committing suicide whenever you get a zit.
My personal favorite magazine feature is "Stars: They're just like us!" Because even the world's most beautiful have their ugly moments and beauty blunders, if you can believe that! Here's Miley Cyrus: "I had someone waxing my eyebrows and they literally tore a piece of skin off!" OMG! Thank Billy Ray they were able to cover the mess up for Miley's next photo shoot! Saved in the nick of time!
I bet you'll also be shocked to know that blood money socialite Kim Kardashian has bad hair days: "I saw this one [photo] where my hair just looks really awful. It was too flat. I'm really into volume and it was really ugly. I did it on my own, it was my first time trying to put in clip-in extensions. I can't deal with all that." Gee, Kim, my hair looks like that every day and I somehow have the audacity to leave the house and inflict my gnarly look on the general public. I feel better just knowing that Kim has experienced the exact same thing!
I'm not dumb...I get it. They sell mags by putting hot chicks on the cover. But enough with the pandering. These people are successful because of how they look, not in spite of it. Bea Arthur never made the list. Neither did one of my other favorite people in history: Eleanor Roosevelt. Eleanor was one of the most inspiring, accomplished, groundbreaking women ever, and she once said that her only regret in life was that she wasn't pretty.
There's really no point to this post, other than to vent a bit about something that's always gone on and will continue. And to bitch about how much I hate the 50 Most Beautiful People issue. It's like, gee, really? Blake Lively's pretty? Tell me all about it again. Then call me Weiner Dog and tell me my Special People Club is for retards.
4/25/2009
Bea. Real.
It's a sad day at S&C HQ. I just heard the news that one of my favorite people of all time has passed away: Bea Arthur. When I was a little Rockit, I wanted to grow up to be like Maude. And then I hoped that I would be like Dorothy Szbornak when I got older. In real life, Bea was also inspiring. She was a medical technician during World War II, a passionate activist for gay rights and an animal welfare champion. Bea enjoyed reading, gardening, collecting antique furniture and gourmet cooking.
Here are a few cool Bea quotes to celebrate her life:
After being in the business for such a long time, I've done everything but rodeo and porno.
I'm not playing a role. I'm being myself, whatever the hell that is.
Now this goes to the grave with you—I hate cheesecake!
On Maude: Its bold storylines about race, abortion, feminism and drugs would have the typical 2007 network executive balled up in a corner, cradling old Touched by an Angel tapes.
4/16/2009
What's your damage, Gwynnie??
From now on when I blog about Gwyneth Paltrow, I'm going to illustrate the post with this picture of wet spinach for two reasons: 1) this looks like Gwynnie's dinner, and 2) Gwynnie is starting to remind me of wet spinach. Seriously, this chick is getting up in Britney territory for making it too easy to rip on her.As an aside, I have to apologize that this blog has gone from all Britney all the time to all RoL all the time to all Paltrow all the time. Let's have a contest to guess who will be the next target of obsessive coverage. First prize is a subscription to GOOP!
I just have to discuss the latest "newsletter" from STOOP. It deals with a "spiritual concept" that Spinach Dip refers to as the Evil Tongue. Hey, I've heard of that! Heh, heh, heh!
Anyway, she begins this issue with a curious story about an old "frenemy" of hers whom she discovered was "pretty hell-bent on taking me down." Then one day, something very humiliating happened to this person and Gwynnie reacted to the unfortunate event with...a smug little shit-eating grin. But why, Gwynnie wondered, do people react with smiles and laughter when someone else physically or metaphorically falls down? And was this frenemy Spin Dip speaks of WINONA RYDER, by any chance?? Hmmm! Sure makes one stop and think for about one-eighth of a second!
To cleanse her soul, Spin Dip consulted some of her sages, including that Kabballah douchebag she's always blowing and some "zen master" (FOR REAL). Basically, they all spout some version of the same tired idea: people who are happy about others' misfortunes have low self-esteem and a need to build themselves up by spreading chaos instead of good vibes. As the RockitKing would say, "When you point a finger at someone, there are three fingers pointing back at you." So everyone should just stop being mean to Gwyneth because she is just trying to provide the world a service with her inconscionable musings.
Aww, poor little Spinach! Let the Kabballah man pet your soggy, mop-like hair! It really hurts when others get laughs at your expense. Big meanie bloggers are sitting around in their kitty-cat pajama pants and "What Would Joan Jett Do?" t-shirt eating Doritos Collisions and spewing hatred at someone just because they have money and privilege and write a stupid lifestyle newsletter!
Well, as Winona once said, "Lick it up, baby! LICK! IT! UP!"
I bet Gwynnie's still smiling now that Winona's career has been all but demolished thanks to her little sticky-fingered jaunt through Sak's. What's interesting is that I remember reading about how Spin Dip actually stole the script for Shakespere in Love from Wino's house and then snagged the role of Viola from under her former friend's coked-up nose. So, if that's true, that means Gwynnie actually may be responsible for Wino's downward spiral and subsequent pill addiction and shoplifting habit. My god, Paltrow's psychotic! She's actually built it up in her mind that Wino deserved all the failure in her life for some imagined attempt at bringing her down!
This is all pure speculation, of course, but if it's true, it's really all starting to add up. Gwyneth Paltrow is mentally unhinged. Mark my words: the next few STOOP newsletters are going to focus on topics that indirectly accuse people of plotting against the author and then gently reminding readers it is SHE who deserves the best in life.
Don't forget about something else Winona once said, Spin Dip: "I say we just grow up, be adults and die." Sounds like a good plan to me.
4/15/2009
Standing on the shoulders of giant dumbasses
My new ambition is to be Marina Hyde. Marina is an Oxford-educated columnist for the The Guardian and author of the next book on my Bookflix list Celebrity: How Entertainers Took Over the World and Why We Need an Exit Strategy. Why do I want to be someone else? Because she wrote the following super-brilliant article on her Lost in Showbiz blog that totally rips Madonna, Stella McCartney and Gwynnie three richly-deserved new assholes! Her sarcasm is exquisite, the take-downs beautifully devastating. I am green with envy. The best part is that none of these three nitwits could possibly come back with a statement that his half as clever.
In honor of this maestro's masterpiece, I am reproducing it here in its entirety so you, too, can bask in the brilliance:
Standing ovation! Bravo! Bellissimo! My favorite part, of course, was the poke at STOOP, I mean GOOP, and the alleged rabid demand for the head Goop Stoop's recommendations and recipes. And on the topic of all these Hollywood assjackers who are speaking out about all the "toxins" and "chemicals" floating around in everyday products—I find it amusing that they're always screaming about air and water and cleaning products that are slowly turning our children in retarded cancer patients with lobster-claw syndrome, yet they have no problem injecting themselves with botulinum toxin, the most toxic protein known to man, so they can have wrinkle-free skin. Isn't it ironic, doncha think?
I so totally can't wait to hear the rebuttals from these mental midgets. Gwynnie will say "fuck the haters!" Madonna will try to put some kind of Kaballah voodoo hex on her (although she might not have time since she's off in Africa dressing like Dr. Livingston and collecting babies). Stella would go into toxic shock.
Anyhoo, big ups to my new fave writer, Marina! It makes me proud to see someone beating these Hollyweird wisenheimers into a small, organic stain instead of chugging the celeb Flavor Aid.
In honor of this maestro's masterpiece, I am reproducing it here in its entirety so you, too, can bask in the brilliance:
Behold, the most serious challenge to the Royal Society in that august body's 350-year history - the medical musings of Madonna, Gwyneth Paltrow and Stella McCartney. These women are not just singers, or actresses, or fashion designers. They are distinguished professors at the University of Celebrity, and are coating your understanding of science like a totally amazing organic body oil.
On top of this, they are best friends, so we can say their pronouncements are peer-reviewed in the best sense of that term. Can you imagine their gatherings? It must be as if Isaac Newton were taking antioxidant tea with Robert Koch and Marie Curie.
We shall come to her latest discoveries shortly, but by way of background, do recall that Gwyneth has formerly claimed that eating "biological foods" can prevent cancer, reminding us that starring in Iron Man and maintaining a glittering career in clinical research are not mutually exclusive. Then we have Madonna, who has cited the extraordinary healing powers of Kabbalah water, which costs $4 a bottle, is said to have had energy injected into it, and may or may not have been blessed by the former insurance salesman who dreamed up her religion.
Other fields of specialism? Alas, Lost in Showbiz hasn't the space today, but Madonna has previously championed a soi-disant scientist who claims to have reversed the second law of thermodynamics. And then there's Stella, who launched her organic skincare range with the warning that "lots of skin products use the same petrochemicals as the antifreeze in your car!", and is one of those celebrities who thinks they eat "chemical-free" food and use "chemical-free" products. I beg you not to tell her that water and trees are made of chemicals. The shock could finish her off.
So then to Gwyneth's latest thesis, published not in the British Medical Journal, surprisingly, but in Goop, the newsletter she sends out to her flock every week. According to Gwyneth, she bowed to crushing demand for this service from friends who were always asking her for restaurant recommendations and low-fat recipes and where to find reproduction art-deco taps. It is now Earth's most invaluable resource for all those unable to locate the perfect £650 cashmere egg cosy (remember: never eat the yolk, it gives you Aids or calories or something).
Entertainers being what they are, it was only a matter of time before Gwyneth branched out into bacteriology, and in her most recent communique she is good enough to explain her fears that household products are causing autism and cancer in children.
"A couple of years ago," she writes, "I was asked to give a quote for a book concerning environmental toxins and their effects on our children."
But how preposterous. I assume she replied: "I am an actor. My job is pretending to be other people. This does not qualify me to discourse on paediatric medicine"? Alas not.
"While reading up on the subject, I was seized with fear," Gwyneth continues. Lost in Showbiz hasn't the strength to bore you with it in full, but it's something about foetuses and young children being unable to "metabolise toxins" - toxins that come from all the "chemicals" we fill our environment with. "The research is troubling; the incidence of diseases in children such as asthma, cancer and autism have shot up exponentially ..."
No matter that there has been very little change in the rate of childhood cancers detected in recent years, and no matter that various leading experts have exploded in exasperation at Gwyneth's general hokum. Like her coterie of fellow scientists, she is indifferent to the critics, whom the form book suggests she would dismiss as "haters".
So if you hear anyone disparaging our three brainiacs, you tell them this: if we understand more than we did five years ago about how holy water can cure verrucas and how shampoo causes cancer, then it is because we are standing on the shoulders of these giants.
Standing ovation! Bravo! Bellissimo! My favorite part, of course, was the poke at STOOP, I mean GOOP, and the alleged rabid demand for the head Goop Stoop's recommendations and recipes. And on the topic of all these Hollywood assjackers who are speaking out about all the "toxins" and "chemicals" floating around in everyday products—I find it amusing that they're always screaming about air and water and cleaning products that are slowly turning our children in retarded cancer patients with lobster-claw syndrome, yet they have no problem injecting themselves with botulinum toxin, the most toxic protein known to man, so they can have wrinkle-free skin. Isn't it ironic, doncha think?
I so totally can't wait to hear the rebuttals from these mental midgets. Gwynnie will say "fuck the haters!" Madonna will try to put some kind of Kaballah voodoo hex on her (although she might not have time since she's off in Africa dressing like Dr. Livingston and collecting babies). Stella would go into toxic shock.
Anyhoo, big ups to my new fave writer, Marina! It makes me proud to see someone beating these Hollyweird wisenheimers into a small, organic stain instead of chugging the celeb Flavor Aid.
4/13/2009
Spring Fever induces vomiting
My head is spinning with all the lame news that has been building up. Instead of blogging about it, my instinct was to run to a corner to hug my knees and rock for a few weeks. But there's no avoiding it. No matter how hard I try, I must face reality and just get this shit out. So here goes:
• Hide the bayonets: Count Grishnackh has been paroled! It's true: after 16 years in the pokey and four parole rejections, not to mention additional time for stealing a station wagon, stockpiling weapons and attempting to make a run for it while he was on some kind of weekend leave, he's finally getting out. According to the Guardian, the Count plans to stay true to his word and move to a small farm in rural Norway and has also cut all his neo-nazi ties. "I look forward the day that I [can] work on my farm, create music, write books and be with the wife and kids around the clock—and live a normal life," he said.
Whatever...I want to hear more about this wife. Is she one of those chicks that really digs convicts and writes them and then marries them in prison? Like that lovely lady who snagged the catch known as the Night Stalker? I smell another post topic...
• Today, Phil Spector was charged with the second-degree murder of Lana Clarkson, aka Mrs. Vargas in Fast Times. This is very tragic, but the real crime here is Phil's hair. What in the holy hell is going on with Phil's frigging hair?? He showed up in court looking like this over the course of his trial, then today he shows up for the verdict with this festering on his head. Is it just me or does he kind of look like Roman Polanski with this 'do? And his makeup job looks like it was done by a coroner's assistant. Under-eye blush makes dead people look like they just came in from snowmobiling.
• In the least shocking news since, well, Phil Spector was convicted of second-degree murder, the oldest Duggar, Josh and his child bride Anna are expecting what will be the first grandchild born to the Duggar gaggle. You may remember Josh and Anna as the not-old-enough-to-drink-legally couple that used their wedding gift registry to request such necessities as a tortilla warmer and an iPod Touch. So it sounds like they must have put those 400-thread-count Egyptian cotton bedsheets to use, eh? Bow-chicka-wow-wow! These two claim they didn't even KISS until they were married. Isn't that so wholesome? They also have a whole bunch of new resources on their website, which I'm afraid is going to require a whole other post. Let's just say the "theatrical blockbuster" Fireproof, starring Kirk Cameron, gets a five out of five Jesus fish rating from these two.
Anyway, Josh and Anna called a family meeting back in February and "surprised" everyone with the news that Anna is knocked up. They were surprised? I don't even know these people and I predicted they'd pop a kid out nine months to the day of the wedding. OK, so I was a little off (she's due in October). The big surprise would be if these fertile bastards announce that god told them they have enough kids and to knock it the hell off already.
(Aside: If all the Duggar kids end up having 18 kids, there would be a grand total of 324 Duggar grandkids. Gross! They could possibly take over Wyoming.)
• Who's your vote for the weirdest couple of all time? Frank Sinatra and Mia Farrow? Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie Presley? Anna Nicole Smith and that old guy? Whoever it is, this one's going to beat it: Smashing Pumpkins singer Billy Corgan and bisexual MySpace whore Tila Tequila. Yeah, you read that right. Billy Fucking Corgan and Tila Fucking Tequila.
Confession time: there was time that I adored Smashing Pumpkins. Gish, Siamese Dream, "Drown"...grunge-era SPs. Then, one by one, I started intensely hating each member of the band...D'arcy first, then Billy, then James Iha...until I almost can't even listen to the songs I like anymore for fear of promoting them in some small way. Billy Corgan is so dead to me that I want to reanimate him so I can make him dead to me again.
Well, that's about all I can take for now. Oh, I almost forgot! Jane's Addiction scheduled a show in Cowtown!! If you go, stop by and say hi. I'll be the one being carried out on a stretcher when "Ocean Size" starts up.
• Hide the bayonets: Count Grishnackh has been paroled! It's true: after 16 years in the pokey and four parole rejections, not to mention additional time for stealing a station wagon, stockpiling weapons and attempting to make a run for it while he was on some kind of weekend leave, he's finally getting out. According to the Guardian, the Count plans to stay true to his word and move to a small farm in rural Norway and has also cut all his neo-nazi ties. "I look forward the day that I [can] work on my farm, create music, write books and be with the wife and kids around the clock—and live a normal life," he said.
Whatever...I want to hear more about this wife. Is she one of those chicks that really digs convicts and writes them and then marries them in prison? Like that lovely lady who snagged the catch known as the Night Stalker? I smell another post topic...
• Today, Phil Spector was charged with the second-degree murder of Lana Clarkson, aka Mrs. Vargas in Fast Times. This is very tragic, but the real crime here is Phil's hair. What in the holy hell is going on with Phil's frigging hair?? He showed up in court looking like this over the course of his trial, then today he shows up for the verdict with this festering on his head. Is it just me or does he kind of look like Roman Polanski with this 'do? And his makeup job looks like it was done by a coroner's assistant. Under-eye blush makes dead people look like they just came in from snowmobiling.
• In the least shocking news since, well, Phil Spector was convicted of second-degree murder, the oldest Duggar, Josh and his child bride Anna are expecting what will be the first grandchild born to the Duggar gaggle. You may remember Josh and Anna as the not-old-enough-to-drink-legally couple that used their wedding gift registry to request such necessities as a tortilla warmer and an iPod Touch. So it sounds like they must have put those 400-thread-count Egyptian cotton bedsheets to use, eh? Bow-chicka-wow-wow! These two claim they didn't even KISS until they were married. Isn't that so wholesome? They also have a whole bunch of new resources on their website, which I'm afraid is going to require a whole other post. Let's just say the "theatrical blockbuster" Fireproof, starring Kirk Cameron, gets a five out of five Jesus fish rating from these two.
Anyway, Josh and Anna called a family meeting back in February and "surprised" everyone with the news that Anna is knocked up. They were surprised? I don't even know these people and I predicted they'd pop a kid out nine months to the day of the wedding. OK, so I was a little off (she's due in October). The big surprise would be if these fertile bastards announce that god told them they have enough kids and to knock it the hell off already.
(Aside: If all the Duggar kids end up having 18 kids, there would be a grand total of 324 Duggar grandkids. Gross! They could possibly take over Wyoming.)
• Who's your vote for the weirdest couple of all time? Frank Sinatra and Mia Farrow? Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie Presley? Anna Nicole Smith and that old guy? Whoever it is, this one's going to beat it: Smashing Pumpkins singer Billy Corgan and bisexual MySpace whore Tila Tequila. Yeah, you read that right. Billy Fucking Corgan and Tila Fucking Tequila.
Confession time: there was time that I adored Smashing Pumpkins. Gish, Siamese Dream, "Drown"...grunge-era SPs. Then, one by one, I started intensely hating each member of the band...D'arcy first, then Billy, then James Iha...until I almost can't even listen to the songs I like anymore for fear of promoting them in some small way. Billy Corgan is so dead to me that I want to reanimate him so I can make him dead to me again.
Well, that's about all I can take for now. Oh, I almost forgot! Jane's Addiction scheduled a show in Cowtown!! If you go, stop by and say hi. I'll be the one being carried out on a stretcher when "Ocean Size" starts up.
4/01/2009
Gwynnie has lost it
If you thought the last two posts on GOOP were crazy, wait until you read this. This shit is getting seriously weird. Chris Martin, if you're reading this, commit your wife as quickly as possible.
Truthfully, I'm not even sure what to say about Gwyneth's latest "newsletter"...for once I'm speechless. So I'm simply going to cut and paste the whole mess here for you to see for yourself. Pad your jaw so it doesn't hurt too much when it hits the floor.
She's really lost it, like for real. I think I'm a little bit worried about Gwyneth...and Marianne Williamson is a very bad influence! I think she needs a Britney-style intervention. Time for her mother, celebrated actress Blythe Danner, to take over control of Gwynnie's assets!
P.S. If it wasn't totally obvious, I made all this shit up. Happy April Fool's Day, lovelies! Um, don't really do any of this stuff...if that isn't totally obvious, either.
Truthfully, I'm not even sure what to say about Gwyneth's latest "newsletter"...for once I'm speechless. So I'm simply going to cut and paste the whole mess here for you to see for yourself. Pad your jaw so it doesn't hurt too much when it hits the floor.
I was having dinner with a dear friend of my godmother's, Marianne Williamson. For those of you not acquainted with Marianne, she's best known as an author, life advisor and spiritual activist. She radiates an almost golden aura that can make her quite intimidating to those who don't know her, but she's actually very down-to-earth and irreverent. On this particular evening, our conversation turned to holistic healing and home remedies. As it turned out, both of our families had passed many of the same old cure-alls from generation to generation. Some of these tried-and-true remedies I use on my own little ones when they get tummy aches or sore throats or fall and bruise their legs during play. Others are used to refresh tired skin or halt the spread of gray hairs. Marianne and I compiled a list to share some of our favorites. We hope these tips will help when you're in a pinch.
• Alcohol mixed with lemon juice and mint leaves can ease the sting of a sunburn.
• Raw garlic, when rubbed gently on the face, helps clear away blemishes and redness.
• To ease a sore throat and cough: grind up some pure mango bark (which can be found at many health-food stores), mix 1/3 cup with 2 tablespoons of sea salt, 1 teaspoon of honey and the juice and pulp from two fresh-squeezed organic oranges. Apply as a poultice to your chest and cover with a warm, damp towel.
• For headaches, try yogic kriyas like jalneti and kunjal.
• Drink five cups of organic chamomile tea in quick succession to stop the spread of poison ivy.
• Ear wax works wonders for cold sores—seriously! Be sure to use a cotton-tipped swab to apply directly to the affected area. This is also a very effective way to keep developing sores from forming completely.
• Keep a jar of mashed fenugreek leaves and pickled ginger in your refrigerator. When you feel nauseated, open the jar and breathe deeply.
• Sprinkle a mixture of linseed, epsom salt and bishop's weed around baby's crib to ward away diaper rash.
• Everyone knows that cucumber slices are wonderful for ridding the under-eyes of dark circles. Soak cosmetic puffs in Indian gooseberry juice and place them on top of the cucumber slices for faster healing.
• Dollop butter into your hair once a week for 45 minutes to ward off premature grays.
• Instantly cure a hangover by blending two cups of milk, one whole banana and a shot of tabasco sauce. Drink the mixture slowly to allow your body to absorb the nutrients.
• Chew 12 dandelions and wash them down with an 8 oz. glass of water mixed with baking soda and vinegar to ease the pain of a toothache.
• Tie a red silk ribbon around a potato and bury it in your vegetable garden. In three days, warts will disappear. This works best if the potato is buried near a cantaloupe plant.
• Add powdered sugar, whole papayas and Indian squill to ice-cold bath water and soak for 15 minutes. This will alleviate even the worst menstrual cramps.
• Nothing gets rid of varicose veins disappear faster than virgin's blood.
She's really lost it, like for real. I think I'm a little bit worried about Gwyneth...and Marianne Williamson is a very bad influence! I think she needs a Britney-style intervention. Time for her mother, celebrated actress Blythe Danner, to take over control of Gwynnie's assets!
P.S. If it wasn't totally obvious, I made all this shit up. Happy April Fool's Day, lovelies! Um, don't really do any of this stuff...if that isn't totally obvious, either.
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