Sunday, November 25, 2018
Saturday, November 17, 2018
NERRRRRRRRD! vol. 73
Bill Maher out here talking shit about Stan Lee fans, which, actually, yeah, that tracks
"comic books are for fat stupid dummies who are idiots. now excuse me while i continue to give Ann Coulter a bi-annual bullhorn and rehash some weed jokes (get it??? reHASH???? LAUGH YOU PC PLEBEIANS I'M YOUR BETTER)"now i like bitchy hot takes as much as the next misanthropic sour ass with delusions of providing transgressive counterpoints to the status quo , but it helps immensely if you actually have a modicum of contemporary knowledge with regards toward the vast medium you've chosen to paint with the most outmoded broad brush imaginable.
i've been an avid viewer of his shows dating back to the gaudy Politically Incorrect days, but much like with Real Time today, it has less to do with Maher's presence on the program than it does with his reliably interesting and disparate roster of guests and panelists. they're the ones that supply the meat of the appeal. without them, Maher isn't really offering much more than a blandly cynical pastiche of post-60s cliches. he presents himself as a splicing of Johnny Carson, George Carlin, and Hugh Hefner, but he lacks the charisma, imagination, charm, and insight that made those gentlemen the trailblazers that they were. Maher (and this is especially true of the last five or so years with this rise of the PC Left and the Alt-Right) is little more than Andy Rooney with f-bombs, reverting to callous dismissals and splenetic hyperbole whenever someone dares to care about something that he himself does not care about.
remind you of anyone?
Maher is nearing some Seduction of the Innocent shit with this latest ill-timed thinly spread smear, going from cruelly mocking adults for thinking the smiling guy who co-created a universe of stories and characters that endures over 50 years since its inception was a pretty neat dude to blaming comic books (whose readership is at an all time low and has no real power or influence to speak of, despite the Nerd Culture Branding Proclamations of "Owning the World", but that's a gripe for another time) for the rise of Trump, when reality television, celebrity worship, talk radio, comment threads, and the cottage industry of conservative literature probably have a bit more to answer for with regards to Trumpdom.
i know Maher doesn't give a fuck about what any comic book reader thinks or feels (or indeed anyone who reads something other than Christopher Hitchens or PJ O'Rourke [another dippy winner in the elder troll division]), but i take a great deal of solace in knowing precisely how wrong he is on any given cultural topic of conversation, particularly this one, when my book shelves and long boxes are packed with more scabrous satire and perspective-warping revelation than any number of Maher's stand-up specials, where "TRUMP IS A BITCH" and "ANAL SEX IS GROSS" are about as cutting as the subversion gets.
11/19 continuation:
Bill Maher Blames Stan Lee (and Comics) for Trump’s Election. What an Idiot.
The host of HBO’s ‘Real Time’ penned a blog post this weekend that was met with near-unanimous condemnation. And for good reason.
In fairness, Maher does drift against a useful observation: there is a problem in popular culture of adults invading or colonizing children’s media spaces, and children’s media being endlessly readapted for adults. The raw material of much of our current popular culture is mined from the toyetic substrate of the ‘80s and ‘90s. Yet this didn’t happen, as Maher claims, because “some dumb people got to be professors by writing theses with titles like Otherness and Heterodoxy in the Silver Surfer.” It happened in part because the Reagan administration stopped the Federal Trade Commission from regulating marketing aimed at children in 1981, which had the effect of creating shows designed purely to sell toys and other merchandise, and gave rise to the all-consuming merchandising blitzes we’re all familiar with today. The result has been the creation of a permanent, weaponized nostalgia, which companies like Disney continue to exploit to this day, endlessly repackaging our childhoods back to us. If the average American exists in a state of arrested development, capitalism and its standard-bearers in the culture industries share a lot of the blame.
But Maher doesn’t have an actual analysis to make here, for the simple reason that he clearly hasn’t given this a great deal of thought. This should not be a surprise: Bill Maher is a punishing provocateur, one whose stock-in-trade is a bone-deep smugness, mixed with a superior delight in the offense he causes. There was the time he mentioned the need to “civilize” Arab men. There was his 2008 characterization of Hillary Clinton (and by extension, all women) as “crying” to get their way, and the time he defended Paula Deen’s use of racial slurs before joking about Chris Brown “beating the shit out of her,” and of course the time he had fun with the topic of domestic abuse: “Stop acting surprised someone choked Tila Tequila! The surprise is that someone hadn’t choked the bitch sooner.” And who could forget the time in 2001 when he got in hot water for equating dogs with “retarded children,” or his own casual use of a racial slur in 2017?
Maher glories in the sort of dime-store Islamophobia, racism and misogyny common among online libertarians. If Maher is considered a liberal, it’s only because he occasionally makes fun of conservative Christians and Republican presidents he considers stupider than him. He springs instead from the sort of offhandedly libertarian, New Atheist ferment that values free speech over everything, but can never figure out anything interesting to say with it. His embrace of people like Jordan Peterson and Bret Stephens alone is a sign that we’re not dealing with an intellectual heavyweight here; his bro-down with Milo Yiannopoulos, alt-right flash-in-the-pan and fascist grifter, gives the game away as well.
There is thus a degree to which the outrage from the comics industry, while understandable and deeply felt, is also a bit silly. What else could they possibly expect? Bill Maher has always been this: a 13-year-old boy’s idea of world-weary debate, a man whose comedic sense got trapped in a bathroom stall in the 1980s, a knee-jerk “politically incorrect” reactionary who views everything but himself with a slathering of unthinking contempt. H.L Mencken he ain’t. Hell, as contrarians go, he’s barely even a J. Jonah Jameson. As a friend of mine remarked, the man’s a pizza cutter: all edge, no point.
11/21 addition:
smugly doubling down on an ill-informed opinion just to make an asinine political burn? no that's not like Trump at all.
it would be funny if this dude's career was finally sunk not by giving a bullhorn to the likes of Milo and Coulter but because he used the death of the guy who created Stripperella as an opportunity to make fun of nerds for being geeks.
Wednesday, November 14, 2018
U.S.A.! U.S.A.! vol. 149
Conservative site to sell Lego-style 'Build The Wall' toy set
The conservative online merchant Keep and Bear is preparing to a sell a Lego-style toy set portraying President Trump's much-touted border wall.
"We are pleased to announce the launch of a brand new line of toys: MAGA building blocks!" reads a description of the toy set on the company's website. "This toy makes a great Christmas gift for your kids and grandkids!"
take a tour of that whole site when you get a chance. it's bone-brainingly weird and sad.
Tuesday, November 13, 2018
Negation Aspiration vol. 126
These wild monkeys thrive in Florida—and carry a deadly virus
Descendants of theme-park escapees, a population of rhesus macaques in a Florida state park may soon double in size—a recipe for trouble.
The study, published October 26 in the journal Wildlife Management, claims that such an increase could put the health of the park and its visitors in serious jeopardy—because, among other problems, the monkeys carry a rare and deadly form of herpes virus called herpes B. It’s extremely rare for herpes B to spread from a monkey to a human, but when it does, it can cause inflammation of the brain and spinal cord leading to brain damage or death.
Friday, November 9, 2018
U.S.A.! U.S.A.! vol. 148 / Negation Aspiration vol. 126: Trump at 730 (Year of the Titan)
previous
the following is an section from BARRAGE TAPES, the novel i've been working on since October of 2016. my initial intention with the work was simply to see how many pages i write in a year, that whatever i write for a month; lyric fragments, flash fictions, essays, one-liners, etc, would be a chapter, and the the chapter would be called a "tape". for years i had spread myself too thin, attempting to write lyrics, comic book scripts, screenplays, novels, short stories, reviews, etc., so i wanted to concentrate everything into one project. not only that, i wished to try and recover creative materials from as far back as 1993, when i first began drawing and writing my own stories, coming up with superheroes, slasher villains, and monsters, and tying it all together into one universe, along with the lyrics/stories i had written over the course of 15/16 years, and any new ideas that may pronounce themselves from out of my mental ether. as of now, the plan is to keep pouring all creative energies into BARRAGE TAPES until Trump finishes out his term(s) as POTUS. it either be the longest short book ever or the shortest long book ever, maybe all of that and none of that. anyway, i'll forgo any further rambling and present a recent section of BARRAGE TAPES, take from the end of TAPE 25, written during the tail-end of the recent Mid-Term Election cycle.
turd cruise. tender butt milk. libertarian rapist pimp zombie. liquid paranoia. medicinal aftertaste of two-too-many aspirin regiment. belching flecks of garlic salt. now it's November. clackingly gray. never the right amount of layers. so bland it all seems profound.
cathode rays of wishful thinking splinter on impact when finally reaching the barricades of reflexive cynicism that keep us grounded and edged; carved out of bombshells. locked in and kept out.
we can only accumulate small victories, spreading them so thin that the threat of them snapping in half and lashing out our eyes is everything if not persistent, while the overbooked pro-wrestling personalities that run the Titan keep fussing with the script, making sure to continually maximize their benefits while maintaining an audience of misguidedly hateful rubes that know no other source of culture or any other impulse other than to keep siphoning off what little they have and pouring it into the slush funds of these glorified carnival barkers and mock-authoritarian thugs.
the Titan has acquired any competition, absorbing their more profitable compartments and assimilating them into the broadly drawn mission statement, becoming the only game in town.
Hence; they don't give a damn what you people want.
the Titan is right here, easy access. whatever's left behind or on the rise in the wake of the Titan's ascent to total power is a little bit more difficult to grasp. the production values aren't as good, the concessions are limited, the merch isn't as colorful, the names aren't househeld, the racial dynamics and sexual politics might leave you scratching your ball-cap in probable confusion or throttling it in petty rage.
the Titan may have its issues, but it's simple and accessible and easy to look at and its more than likely never going away and seemingly all roads lead to its towers.
call it the New World Order, brother.
the following is an section from BARRAGE TAPES, the novel i've been working on since October of 2016. my initial intention with the work was simply to see how many pages i write in a year, that whatever i write for a month; lyric fragments, flash fictions, essays, one-liners, etc, would be a chapter, and the the chapter would be called a "tape". for years i had spread myself too thin, attempting to write lyrics, comic book scripts, screenplays, novels, short stories, reviews, etc., so i wanted to concentrate everything into one project. not only that, i wished to try and recover creative materials from as far back as 1993, when i first began drawing and writing my own stories, coming up with superheroes, slasher villains, and monsters, and tying it all together into one universe, along with the lyrics/stories i had written over the course of 15/16 years, and any new ideas that may pronounce themselves from out of my mental ether. as of now, the plan is to keep pouring all creative energies into BARRAGE TAPES until Trump finishes out his term(s) as POTUS. it either be the longest short book ever or the shortest long book ever, maybe all of that and none of that. anyway, i'll forgo any further rambling and present a recent section of BARRAGE TAPES, take from the end of TAPE 25, written during the tail-end of the recent Mid-Term Election cycle.
turd cruise. tender butt milk. libertarian rapist pimp zombie. liquid paranoia. medicinal aftertaste of two-too-many aspirin regiment. belching flecks of garlic salt. now it's November. clackingly gray. never the right amount of layers. so bland it all seems profound.
cathode rays of wishful thinking splinter on impact when finally reaching the barricades of reflexive cynicism that keep us grounded and edged; carved out of bombshells. locked in and kept out.
we can only accumulate small victories, spreading them so thin that the threat of them snapping in half and lashing out our eyes is everything if not persistent, while the overbooked pro-wrestling personalities that run the Titan keep fussing with the script, making sure to continually maximize their benefits while maintaining an audience of misguidedly hateful rubes that know no other source of culture or any other impulse other than to keep siphoning off what little they have and pouring it into the slush funds of these glorified carnival barkers and mock-authoritarian thugs.
the Titan has acquired any competition, absorbing their more profitable compartments and assimilating them into the broadly drawn mission statement, becoming the only game in town.
Hence; they don't give a damn what you people want.
the Titan is right here, easy access. whatever's left behind or on the rise in the wake of the Titan's ascent to total power is a little bit more difficult to grasp. the production values aren't as good, the concessions are limited, the merch isn't as colorful, the names aren't househeld, the racial dynamics and sexual politics might leave you scratching your ball-cap in probable confusion or throttling it in petty rage.
the Titan may have its issues, but it's simple and accessible and easy to look at and its more than likely never going away and seemingly all roads lead to its towers.
call it the New World Order, brother.
Wednesday, November 7, 2018
Negation Aspiration vol. 125
Mother of Australian man who died after injecting his scrotum with silicone to appease his master's 'inflation fetish' confronts his bondage partner
- Mother of a man who died after injecting his scrotum with silicone speaks out
- Linda Chapman confronted 'master' Dylan Hafertepen on Tuesday's The Project
- Ms Chapman appeared visibly shaken as she blamed him for her son's death
Tuesday, November 6, 2018
Friday, November 2, 2018
We Are The Sprocket Holes vol. 338 / U.S.A.! U.S.A.! vol. 147
Look at that. That’s every online redhat stormtrooper, blue-check-marked right wing pundit, cable news white nationalist, disbarred teen hedge fund manager, Russian troll masquerading as very very American mother of veteran who loves Trump and emojis more than could possibly be healthy, White House Press Secretary or sitting congressman who ever proudly “owned the libs,” or called a victim a liar, a crisis actor, a false flag, or mistaken but it’s important that women are heard. It’s not about an ideology, it’s about domination and humiliation, about getting a stiffy from your suffering.
Our relatives who support Trump, in most cases, are not cannibals, in my opinion. And maybe the people who think the answer is to reach out and understand each other and find out what we have in common are right. I hope they are. But I tell you as an illustration of our deepest fears, the metaphor fuckin works. I literally can’t comprehed the people I know as nice, loving aunts and uncles being okay with the bullying and racism and dishonesty, with the white nationalism and racist code words and demonizing of refugees and immigrants, with the smearing and humiliation of rape victims, the heartless responses to tragedies, the abandonment of Puerto Rico, the daily cruelty, crassness and dishonor, with the consistent do-the-opposite-of-what-I-was-taught-America-and-Christianity-were-about – any more than I can understand a fuckin skin mask. They make about the same amount of sense to me. Both bizarre crimes in the annals of American history
Our relatives who support Trump, in most cases, are not cannibals, in my opinion. And maybe the people who think the answer is to reach out and understand each other and find out what we have in common are right. I hope they are. But I tell you as an illustration of our deepest fears, the metaphor fuckin works. I literally can’t comprehed the people I know as nice, loving aunts and uncles being okay with the bullying and racism and dishonesty, with the white nationalism and racist code words and demonizing of refugees and immigrants, with the smearing and humiliation of rape victims, the heartless responses to tragedies, the abandonment of Puerto Rico, the daily cruelty, crassness and dishonor, with the consistent do-the-opposite-of-what-I-was-taught-America-and-Christianity-were-about – any more than I can understand a fuckin skin mask. They make about the same amount of sense to me. Both bizarre crimes in the annals of American history
The Texas Chain Saw Massacre
U.S.A.! U,S.A.! vol. 146
Post Malone is the perfect pop star for this American moment. That’s not a compliment. delightfully scabrous take-down of someone i've never heard of.
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