Anablogcabin
Tuesday, September 30, 2003
Typical, indeed
Posted by Jimmy Saffron @ 7:13 PM
Did you see this movie in an empty theatre? I can see you now, furiously pumping away, splattering your masturbatory screed-seed all over the screen and the rows of seats in front of you.
Perhaps you recall the exchange between Ribisi/Jonze and Johansson/Coppola following his initial meeting with the Cameron Diaz character in the lobby. She rather lightly questions his indulgence of Diaz, implying in the most polite and condescending way that Diaz is something shy of genius. Ribisi/Jonze utters what's probably the worst line in the movie: "We can't all go to Yale, you know."
I'm glad you've found a kindred spirit in the Ribisi character, Analogcabin. Someone to sing harmony in your reactionary, class-warfare catcalls.
Saffron, there's a world outside of Hollywood. There's a world beyond your sports cars, piles of cocaine, and underage Thai houseboys. It's a world of everyday struggles and triumphs. Perhaps one day you'll join us here in the real world.
Thank you, Analogcabin. I know there's a world outside Hollywood. One of the prominent cities in that world is Shanghai, China. It's quite large and sprawling and metropolitan, teeming with neon, restaurants and kareoke bars. I know this because I lived there for a year, the first four weeks of which I spent living alone in a fancy hotel, with no friends and little to no comprehension of the language. I, like the Sscarrlett Johaasennn character in the film, had feelings of insecurity and uneasiness about myself and my place in the world, feelings which were amplified by the oceanic foreignness of the city where I was living. I too felt lonely and frustrated that I couldn't do much more than observe. I too would look to other Anglos in the elevator and wonder if they felt the same as me. I too experienced accelerated friendships with people older than myself. These are the emotional states I saw portrayed in the movie, not the racism, class-based "ennui" and cultural snottiness you claim is so evident. And I don't think you have to have lived in the Far East to recognize this as the director's intent.
You do, however, have to not be a soulless, unrepentant asshole.
Coppola wants us to sympathize with a character crippled to inaction by an intellect and emotional depth that none of the other characters fully comprehend.
For an example of what our host is talking about, see this piece of shit. Now there is a vanity piece that should held against its makers.
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Typical
Posted by Analogcabin @ 6:21 PM
There's no better way to insure a post from Saffron than to attack Hollywood's system of nepotism, insiderism, pampering, pandering, and protecting its own. Isn't that right, Jimmy "Judging Amy" Saffron? Did you write your response alone, or did you consult with the entire Gay/Jewish Hollywood cabal prior loosing your rather anemic dogs of critical war?
You dare subject me to your jeremiad, but your post is nothing more than a feast -- a cornucopia of ignorance spread out before me. The only real question is with what fetid dish I should begin.
Why not here:
...Johassen....
Johansson. Feel free to reference my post for the correct spelling.
And here:
But what scenes in that movie suggest an "unfathomable intellect" on the part of the Johassen character?
Perhaps you recall the exchange between Ribisi/Jonze and Johansson/Coppola following his initial meeting with the Cameron Diaz character in the lobby. She rather lightly questions his indulgence of Diaz, implying in the most polite and condescending way that Diaz is something shy of genius. Ribisi/Jonze utters what's probably the worst line in the movie: "We can't all go to Yale, you know."
Despite yourself, you were right about one thing, Saffron: Coppola's heavy-handed efforts to accomplish otherwise aside, nothing about the character implies unfathomable intellect. But lines like the above convince me it was Coppola's intent -- the saddest turn is that she was prevented from her desired ends by her own limited intellect. Like the old and shaking painter prevented from finishing his self-portrait, so is the stupid Sophia kept from portraying her own genius.
Coppola wants us to sympathize with a character crippled to inaction by an intellect and emotional depth that none of the other characters fully comprehend. Not Ribisi/Jonze, not the vacuous telephone friend called following the oh-so-moving visit to the monastery, certainly not Diaz, and not even the easily pegged Murray and his predictable midlife crisis. She should count herself among them -- she's mistaken her own Philosophy 101 existential confusion with unique genius.
Coppola, that two-bit whore, is romanticizing ennui. Ennui, of all things! Not since Romance poetry has an audience seriously been asked to sympathize with the blight of the rich and idle.
Saffron, there's a world outside of Hollywood. There's a world beyond your sports cars, piles of cocaine, and underage Thai houseboys. It's a world of everyday struggles and triumphs. Perhaps one day you'll join us here in the real world.
That is, if you can take your tongue out of Amy Brenneman's ass.
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Lost in Impotent Rage
Posted by Jimmy Saffron @ 3:57 PM
What can I say, Analogcabin, that you didn't say yourself? Rage. Resentment. My thoughts exactly.
But, as it turns out, I can say a lot more.
Let me begin by stating that I think your opinion on "Lost in Translation" is about as valid as Benjamin Franklin's.
"Benjamin Franklin?" you might ask. "What does Benjamin Franklin have to do with this discussion. For starters, there's no way he could have seen this movie. The guy's dead."
That's right, Analogcabin. That's my point. He is dead. And so are you.
No, in all seriousness, you're not dead. I mean, you breathe and walk around and talk to people, sure. But inside, you are dead. Cold. Curdled. Black. How else to explain your insipid, myopic review of the film. I've read user comments on IMDB, in broken German, that are more insightful.
Unfortunately, this movie isn't about Bill Murray character, despite what the poster suggests. It's about Scarlett Johansson's character and how she maintains a delicate superiority while wandering through a world she seems alternately to view as a prison and an annoyance. I don't think that would bother me so much if the character weren't so obviously based on Sophia Coppola herself.
From what I can tell, your only real beef with the movie is that its depiction of the Scarlett Johassen character (a cipher for the director) is too flattering. You think it's a vanity piece. How novel.
Well, I think that's invalid, to the degree that you're claiming. Does the director sympathize with her character? Sure, of course. But what scenes in that movie suggest an "unfathomable intellect" on the part of the Johassen character? And what of this "delicate superiority" you claim she extends towards the Japanese, these "unwashed masses" that she can't wait to get away from? Where did you see that? The strip club? Why, because she didn't slip a cold yen under the dancer's g-string and take a quick sniff of her quiff? Where else is this "remarkable racism," besides in your own imagination?
Your opinion of the movie is entirely colored by your inflamed resentment of Sofia Coppola, or, I should say, what you think you know of Sofia Coppola based on ultra-flattering magazine articles, none of which has anything to do with the actual quality of the film. In the end, it seems stupid to debate this with you. Better to just insult your character.
So, I'll close with my usual condemnations. Hater of all things good. Enemy of sincerity. Fuckface. You know the drill.
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Done been Googled
Posted by Billy Sumday @ 2:48 PM
Ok, Ok, Ok. So you caught me. The billowy shirt, the shaggy hair, the determined look of a champion; it's me alright. It's the eye of the tiger.
I should be mad. Not only was an iconic image of my personal lord and savior (me) sacreligiously posted on this webpage, but I know for a fact that the image was found via a Google search, and that's a little disturbing. How have our lives become so accessible? And why do I know that the image can be found on Google? Easy.
It's because I've googled myself, and done it many times, actually, each time with the hope that perhaps a new image, or maybe even an article, has been created by some unknown apostle of my life and work. Often, though, I find the unfortunate photograph or two of my high-school tennis days. Is this what the internet distills a man's life to? The glory years of high-school sports?
But this isn't a discussion about the best tennis player in Warsaw, Indiana, from the years of 1996-1998. This is about google.
I'll admit I've googled myself. And I'll admit I've googled others. Friends, relatives, ex-girlfriends. I mean, why not? It's so easy. And what if these people have some secret life that I don't know about? Isn't it only fair to google my new boss to make sure he's not a child molestor or, even worse, a nobody who no one has ever cared to write about or take a picture of? Shouldn't I check to see if an old flame has mutilated a current boyfriend's genitals, thus proving my base instinct that I was better than her?
I mean, aren't these my rights, you know, as an American?
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Happiness
Posted by Analogcabin @ 11:50 AM
Look at me. I was happy then.
Little did I know that I was getting jock itch from that Salvation Army bought Halloween costume.
Roasted by my own petard. Again.
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Posted by Sue @ 11:41 AM
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No, I Haven't; & Fuck You All, Part 1
Posted by Analogcabin @ 10:17 AM
It's really important that I preface this by saying that I quit smoking, and haven't had an inflammable column of tobaccoey delight since Friday. As a result, I'm highly irritable.
But fuck you guys.
I haven't seen New York Stories, Sue. I know. I probably should have, but I haven't seen Lawrence of Arabia either. Maybe that makes me a bad person.
Speaking of bad people, where is Saffron on this oh-so-hot Sophia Coppola issue? He calls himself a participant in this fucking blog, but I see very little evidence. The scant evidence there is consists of too much bullshittery and not enough provocative response to the issues at hand. What's the matter, Saffron? Amy Brenneman got your tongue?
I'd complain about Barry, but he's been dead to me since Burning Man. The Spencer2K is too occupied dodging questions about Christa to post, and Billy's only interested in himself.
Fuck all of you. I started smoking because of you guys, and now you've left me here to suffer this way. I hate you.
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Monday, September 29, 2003
Sorry to mention it and add fuel the fire...
Posted by Sue @ 2:27 PM
Analogcabin, have you seen "New York Stories"? The second of three segments (directed by Martin Scorsese, Francis Coppola and Woody Allen, respectively) was written by a then 17 year-old Sophia Coppola.
Now, we all know Francis Coppola is a true lover and practitioner of nepotism. In many cases, I agree with his choices (e.g., Nic Cage in "Peggy Sue Got Married" and Talia Shire in "The Godfather" movies). However, with the case of "New York Stories," I believe he failed miserably in his choosing a script that was written by his daughter, possibly as some sort of subtle ploy to sandwich the subpar writing work of his young daughter in between two bits of directorial work by such masters as Martin Scorsese and Woody Allen.
Have you seen the segment I'm talking about, Analogcabin? It's very similar to "Lost In Translation" in terms of the main subject's characterizations (again, the main subject is obviously "Sophia" but, naturally, devoid of ANY shred of humor-rousing self deprecation).
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Three Reasons to Enjoy "The Godfather, Part III" (In Spite of Sofia Coppola and the Film's Definite Inferiority to the Previous Two Installments)
Posted by Shakti Mann @ 1:26 PM
Analog got me thinking about "The Godfather, Part III." I have strong feelings on this issue. I think that, while imperfect (and this is not entirely the fault of his daughter), it is an unjustly maligned work. Much like his "Dracula"--it misfires here and there, but....wow.
I offer the following three reasons to appreciate the film, in spite of errors in judgment previously discussed:
1) The Other Performances. Let's hear it for a riveting Andy Garcia; hilarious Joe "Fat Tony" Mantegna; quietly brilliant Raf Vallone; and the great Eli Wallach as Don Altobello.
Oh, yeah. And Pacino's pretty good, too.
2) Coppola. Consistent with the other "lesser works" of Coppola, "The Godfather, Part III" has more than it's fair share of astonishing scenes and inspired moments. I'm thinking, for example, of the hit on Mantegna's character Joey Zasa. Or the light, funny, bittersweet reconnection of Michael and Kay in Italy. Or the opera(tic) conclusion--this scene in the director's cut is particularly striking, if only because Helmut Berger meets with a much more memorable and gruesome demise.
And it's lovely. Coppola and Gordon Willis certainly recaptured the lushness of the first two films.
3) At least Winona Ryder didn't get to play the part of Mary. That just seems so wrong-headed to me. Nonie is just too precocious. That role seems to me to call for a certain innocent, dainty energy (which may be why Sofia got that part after Ryder how to bow out).
Anyway, your thoughts?
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Sophia, Sophia Mia
Posted by Analogcabin @ 10:46 AM
Perhaps it's because of the hatred to which Jimmy alluded, but I saw Lost in Translation this weekend and I'm happy to report that I have mixed feelings about it.
My initial reaction was positive, primarily due to Bill Murray's performance. He was fantastically funny, as I suppose I should have expected, but he also perfectly captures and sustains the kind of resigned aimlessness I think this movie's about. It's something Murray's played before -- remember the moment in Stripes after he's lost his cab when he drops the pizza on the ground? It's that, except longer. I don't think I'm the only person who continues to be amazed at how far he's come since The Razor's Edge, but I know I'm the only person who will claim full responsibility for his turnabout.
Unfortunately, this movie isn't about Bill Murray's character, despite what the poster suggests. It's about Scarlett Johansson's character and how she maintains a delicate superiority while wandering through a world she seems alternately to view as a prison and an annoyance. I don't think that would bother me so much if the character weren't so obviously based on Sophia Coppola herself.
I wasn't surprised that Johansson's character was based on the director. Before seeing the movie I'd read interviews in which she said that much of the film was based on her experiences promoting The Virgin Suicides abroad. It seemed fairly obvious to me while watching the movie, and it didn't bother me in the slightest until the next day while washing my genitals with pine tar soap. It's possible it was the soap.
I certainly don't have a problem with filmmakers who obsess over themselves. What gets me is that she painted herself with such love -- as a beautiful victim of her own unfathomable intellect and overwhelming emotion trapped in a false world full of insipid movers, shakers, and moneymakers.
That's just fine, Sophia. Then quit the movie business, abandon your NYC LA circle of Sevignys, move to, say, Little Rock, and get a fucking job.
How difficult it must be to be married to Spike Jonze, portrayed here by the woefully underused Giovanni Ribisi as a fun-loving, busy, and kind goofball that simply can't fathom the depth of feeling that curses poor Sophia. And how caring and quaint of her to fall for an unattractive and crestfallen has-been (who, incidentally, I imagine to be Richard Kind in real life.) When he sleeps with Coppola's least deserving object of ridicule, the lounge singer, how big of Sophia to forgive him. And how wonderful of Coppola to refrain from throttling the Cameron Diaz character.
I could talk about the remarkable racism in this movie -- how Sophia's yellow aliens are portrayed as these faceless kowtowing know-nothings with adorable if silly customs and hilarious accents -- but it doesn't really bother me. Instead, I'll focus on the laughable way in which Coppola uses the Japanese as surrogates for all people who aren't in entertainment. Entertainers pass through this hotel, they drink and mingle. Only Sophia deigns to visit the beautiful temple, and though she's touched, she'll sure as hell will keep her distance from the unwashed masses. Take that strip joint for example. Gag me with a silver spoon.
But overall, I liked the movie. I just wish I didn't know who made it, and I wish I didn't resent her so much, and I wish she didn't ruin The Godfather III.
Considering this movie's undercurrents or rage and resentment, I can't imagine what we'll see next, now that her daddy's dating Thora. And considering this post's rage and resentment, who knows what I'll write about that.
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Friday, September 26, 2003
Cat-hater. Love-slayer.
Posted by Jimmy Saffron @ 6:32 PM
Maybe it's because your hatred of house cats is surpassed only by your contempt for the nuclear family. You, the enemy of all things loving and wholesome. You, blind to all that is good in this world, not to mention a solid-gold pitch for a new animatronic pet film. Call it "CD-2: The Return of Ted." Hey, that one's on me. Free of charge.
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Chips in the Pussy and Paws on the Dash
Posted by Analogcabin @ 3:23 PM
I don't think there's anything about this story a sane person could find objectionable, and yet I found myself about ready to punch a hole in my computer after I read it.
What does that mean, do you think?
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Thursday, September 25, 2003
Gentrification must stop!
Posted by Jimmy Saffron @ 11:53 PM
The language on this page is pretty remarkable. As if Iraq were some patch of Florida wetlands, just waiting to be razed and stocked with stripmalls and motel 6's. Can't wait for the interactive map! I've got an idea for a Iraqi-themed sushi bar, and I need to figure out the best place to put it. Probably near An Nukhayb. I hear it's the Park Slope of the Middle East.
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I Second that Emotion
Posted by Jimmy Saffron @ 9:08 PM
That is a great fucking piece. As soon as I read the title, several records popped into my head (Sugar, Jesus Jones, The Breeders). Sure enough, they were all on the list. Somebody did their homework.
Here are the albums on their list that I bought, then sold:
Jesus Jones - Doubt
Primus - Pork Soda
Freedy Johnston - Can You Fly
Dinosaur, Jr. - Without a Sound
And here are the albums on their list that I still own and listen to:
Luna - Pup Tent
Thurston Moore - Psychic Hearts
American Music Club - Everclear
And here is an album that absolutely should have been on that list, because I see it fucking everywhere:
Spacehog - Resident Alien
It's a funny thing, the used CD section. Part bargain bin, part steaming pile of regret.
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Pitchfork, I Love You
Posted by Analogcabin @ 4:34 PM
Any indie rock poseur worth his weight in Palace records has Pitchfork bookmarked, and I'm no exception. Occasionally, though, the pretense is shocking even to me. Take this line from example:
Rudeboy is a singularly untalented MC, offering the defining couplet....
From their current hilarious feature Castoffs and Cutouts: The Top 50 Most Common Used CDs.
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Stop with the genital mutilation articles!
Posted by Sue @ 11:09 AM
I'm trying to eat here!
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How To Land a Job
Posted by Analogcabin @ 10:48 AM
This person's resume came across my desk today.
I don't know how to land a job better than anyone else, but one thing I don't think I'd do is provide this video as evidence that I'm a good animator. It's not without artistic merit -- it features his girlfriend in red lingerie.
Don't judge. Just behold the mystery that is the Goth lifestyle.
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Penis: The Enemy of the Hallucinatory World, Redux
Posted by Analogcabin @ 9:21 AM
The curator of Lost and Frowned brought this fellow to my attention this morning.
I think what's most intriguing about his tale isn't that he severed, fried, and ate his penis, but that he took a hallucinogen before going to bed. Doesn't it seem like a waste? Maybe voices speaking badly of your weenie is a side effect of hallucinogens before bed. Like swimming after eating.
I'd eat my penis if I could. Is that weird?
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Wednesday, September 24, 2003
But Why?
Posted by Analogcabin @ 3:47 PM
More than anything else, I'd like to know what hallucination provoked this now very quiet and impotent young man. Were the most flexible parts of his frontage somehow conspiring against him?
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Call Sir Mix-a-Lot and Tell Him to Bring the Anaconda
Posted by Shakti Mann @ 1:11 PM
The potential for humor here is infinite.
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Mistakes Were Made
Posted by Shakti Mann @ 1:02 PM
Analog, I would never accuse anyone at this little tea party--least of all you or Sue--of being insensitive.
What's more, you're absolutely right. Obsessive-compulsive disorder is not the only condition shamefully "romanticized" by Hollywood (to borrow your very appropriate phrase). And some of my wording, in retrospect, is unfortunate. Particularly my use of "depressing." One might think I'm suggesting that people with OCD don't have the same opportunities for happiness or contentedness as the rest of us. I'd like to take this opportunity to retract that word. Or to change the sentence to "OCD can be a depressing disease..."
Going back to Hollywood for a moment, though.... I see the lampooning of OCD in television and films as being a fairly recent and popular phenomenon ("Monk," "As Good As It Gets") that does not really take into account the portion of the audience that may have personal experience with OCD (which, I should think, would be radically different than depicted). Yeah, Hollywood is insensitive to lots and lots of people, and they should work on changing that. But this is a markedly new trend. It could be nipped in the bud.
That's all.
Oh, yeah. And you're asking me how many times I count the words in my posts?
Hey, Pot. This is the Kettle. You're black.
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Tuesday, September 23, 2003
You Down With OCD? Yeah, You Know Me!
Posted by Analogcabin @ 2:52 PM
Yeah. Whatever, Shakti. Just answer me this: How many times did you have to count the words in that post before you actually sent it?
If we're going to talk about serious problems that Hollywood constantly romanticizes, let's talk about retardation. Can we? Please?
I mean, Forrest Gump? Radio? A plot search for "retard" on IMDB yields more than 70 films, and that doesn't even include Gump, Radio, or I Am Sam.
Am I being insensitive? Perhaps. But as insensitive as Hollywood? Perhaps.
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A Caption and a Rasberry to "Monk"
Posted by Shakti Mann @ 1:35 PM
Caption: "Hey, Frankie, why don't you tell that girl that you love her. (sing-songy) 'I love you with all my heart...If I don't see you again soon, I'm a gonna die..."
On the Tony Shaloub issue, I say "boo." Not because I was rooting for any of his fellow nominees. And not because I dislike Tony Shaloub--actually, I think he's a particularly wonderful actor. I'm still seething that he was snubbed of an Oscar nomination for his brilliant performance in "The Man Who Wasn't There."
I object to rewarding "Monk" because I'm sick and tired of Hollywood making light of obsessive-compulsive disorder and turning it into some kind of charming quirk. I'm sure it's a well-done show and that our man Shaloub is very funny, but obsessive-compulsive disorder is a seriously depressing disease (for the sufferer and those in-relationship with him or her) and I think it would do filmmakers well to be mindful of that for a change.
I'm done with my soapbox now. Anyone? Anyone?
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Caption 2: Redux
Posted by Analogcabin @ 1:18 PM
"Old Enough To Be Her Godfather"
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Caption 1: Mine Own Suggestion
Posted by Analogcabin @ 1:12 PM
"Almost a Ghost World"
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FFC and Thora B
Posted by Analogcabin @ 1:03 PM
There are few recent news stories that upset me as the one Yahoo! coupled with the photo below.
Though it's hackneyed, perhaps you fellows could offer us all some witty captions.
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Here's to ya, Tony.
Posted by Sue @ 11:37 AM
Please join me in raising a glass in toasting Mr. Tony Shalhoub for winning his first Emmy. Here! Here!
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Priorities
Posted by Shakti Mann @ 11:32 AM
How did I miss out on this?
Sure, the ticket price was more than the gross national product of most Eastern European countries, but.... The Dalai Lama opening for Tom Waits!?
What was I thinking?
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Monday, September 22, 2003
Dr. StrangeRove
Posted by Jimmy Saffron @ 11:09 PM
I think it's rich that, when it comes to making a Democratic nominee look wishy-washy, White House phone logs are there for the taking.
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Count me in.
Posted by Sue @ 1:52 PM
I'm game. Especially if it means that I can hang out and drink beer at the Freemasons' lodge on La Cienega Boulevard.
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Free and Accepted Masons
Posted by Analogcabin @ 1:45 PM
Sure, conspiracy is funny. It's a laugh riot.
But it's no fucking joke, people. There are shadowy figures pulling the strings on which we all dangle. They're called Masons, and they're among us.
How can we at Analogcabin stop their diabolical plot? We must be among them.
I'm suggesting that under the auspices of the Hoax section of this site, we become Freemasons and chronicle our experiences delving deep into the eye of Horus.
Who's with me? I know you are, Sumday, but who else? Who dares journey into the belly of the beast?
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Conspiracy Nostalgia
Posted by Sue @ 11:48 AM
Believe it or not, there was a time when the world really WAS run by a conspiracy of me and my friends. The machine was known as "Amplified Silence." It was our goal to rock the world into a state of oblivion... To thrash it into a zone of perpetual metal. Our picture (which was taken by Analogcabin in his high school haunt) is below. Notice the vim... the vigor... the sheer 16 year-old male libidos... the healthy mullets.
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Sunday, September 21, 2003
Consortium
Posted by Billy Sumday @ 1:41 PM
I was reading a New York Times article about Stephen Trask, the composer of the songs in Hedwig and the Angry Inch. At one point he states that he likes to live his life according to the following maxim, which I believe is both appropriate and inspiring to the web of contributors and supporters of anablogcabin: "Even though it's not true, you have to think of the world as being run by a conspiracy of you and your friends."
Wait - you mean it's not true?
See? I'm already starting to believe it myself. Just like the freemasons, the illuminati and the Bilderburgs, the sheet has been pulled from the anablogcabin cabal - exposing us as the powerful puppetmasters that we are.
Until our next summit in Helsinki this March, I suggest we continue living the normal and non-suspicious lives we were assigned in Bogota during the meetings of '96. So far, I have been quite successful playing the charade as a struggling college grad looking for temporary office work. I would be interested in hearing how you are all faring.
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Saturday, September 20, 2003
Overheard...
Posted by Shakti Mann @ 4:55 PM
I overheard the following statements as I was walking down the street in Denver this morning. In every case, people were talking into their cell phones.
MAN: (yelling; completely serious) "Oh, 'I never gave you anything!?' What a bunch of fucking bullshit! What about all those orgasms!?"
COLLEGE KID: "Yeah, he's a nice guy. I mean, he's kind of a douche-bag, but.... Yeah."
ANOTHER COLLEGE KID (not with other college kid): ""No, we're not going to Florida tonight. We're going to watch it on television. (beat) It's a multimedia invention that was created half-a-century ago."
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Steadfast
Posted by Analogcabin @ 9:38 AM
I stand by my assessment.
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Friday, September 19, 2003
Shocked, Appalled, and Hungry
Posted by Shakti Mann @ 4:19 PM
I don't know, Cabin. Funniest thing on the internet ever?
Try this on for size.
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The Best Thing Ever On the Internet Ever
Posted by Analogcabin @ 4:08 PM
Apologies, but I ripped this off of The American Undershirt 'cause I couldn't find a permalink.
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Uhh...
Posted by Sue @ 3:19 PM
Er, um... Well, that's was the point. That I was able to spell the word "reconnaissance" correctly, as I usually spell it "recconaissance."
Yeah. That's the ticket.
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There's Already One Larry King Too Many
Posted by Analogcabin @ 2:08 PM
Let me begin by saying that reconnaissance is not spelled with two c's. I'm sorry, Sue, but if you spelled it correctly in the morning, you should be able to spell it correctly in the afternoon. And if you can't, there's a spell check button located immediately above the box in which you typed. Its use is free of change, and I encourage you all to avail yourselves of it.
Also free of change is a wicked punch in the fucking grill from me. Any of you bitches want some of this?
While we're on the topic of holding to absolutely no topic whatsoever, I though you all might enjoy seeing a picture of my friend Dr. Michael Casey (Ph.D. in Mathematics from UC San Diego) doing a beer bong in Las Vegas.
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Sounding Board.
Posted by Sue @ 12:49 PM
Ok, fellas. Here are some things that have been on my mind this morning:
1. I'm glad I have central air conditioning.
2. This morning, I correctly spelled "recconaissance" without the use of spell check.
3. I've become a fan of gorgonzola cheese (sp?).
4. My life on the West coast has been affected in some small way by the hurricane on the East coast. Two members of a "teleconference" that I had scheduled this morning were unable to attend due to a power outage resulting from the hurricane.
5. Osama bin Laden is still alive and George Bush is a bumbling fucking moron.
6. It's great that we live in a country where I can say that the president is a bumbling fucking moron and not get "offed"... at least not "officially."
That's about it. Thanks for listening.
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Defame, to proclaim
Posted by Billy Sumday @ 12:19 PM
Analogcabin, I find your idea both juvenile and inspired. A wonderful synergy, really, and one that keeps the proverbial man on his toes. Unfortunately, I'm not sure how much free time I'll have to deface public property, as I am already a vandal for Christ - visit his webpage at members.aol.com/jesus316 - the Almighty Protector and Son of God.
Man, you guys should have been with us two nights ago when my friend Jeffrey and I did a little "Jesus Raid" at a local black Baptist church. To show our God-loving "homies" that we wanted to give them "mad ups", Jeff and I constructed a huge flaming shit cross right in the front lawn of the church. Believe me, fellas, it's not easy filling 240 paper bags full of potent and totally flammable man-waste, but with a little help from Taco Bell, and a whole lot of prayers, we managed to squeeze out some pretty monster turds - and a lot, to boot.
Well, procedural technicalities aside, Jeff and I figured that our brothers and sisters in Him would get some pretty sweet inspiration when they walked out of their evening Sunday sermon and saw a huge flaming cross staring right back at them. God is awesome!
After we lit the paper bags constituting the cross, Jeff and I scuttled out of there and grabbed some milkshakes at the local DQ to harden up our insides a little bit. It's too bad, really, because I would've really liked to have seen the look on their faces when they saw that flaming, ferocious and amazing testament to God's love. But, as always, we strike under the cover night, anonymous and alone, unrecognized in our crusade to spread His word and His love. We are vandals for Christ.
Praise Him.
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Ragnvold A. Nestos
Posted by The Reverend Harlow Jesse Carpenter @ 12:04 PM
Lynn Frazier's replacement as Governor of North Dakota, a native of Norway.
Republican, foreign-born, star of early 20th century action films.
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Bathroom Wall Promotion
Posted by Analogcabin @ 11:56 AM
I'd like to provide some context for the picture Jimmy posted below.
While enduring the most riotous bowel movement of my short life -- a heady stew brewed up thanks to a few Long Island Iced Teas the night prior -- I wrote "Why go to Analogcabin.com?" on the stall wall in Sharpie. I then took a picture of it with my phone and emailed it to Jimmy, who posted it for me.
I encourage you all to promote the site in a similar fashion. Perhaps I'll then put something on the front page requesting that any visitors directed here by those promotions let us know what they saw and where.
Is anybody with me?
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Lynn Frazier
Posted by The Reverend Harlow Jesse Carpenter @ 11:31 AM
The only governor removed from office through a recall vote (North Dakota, 1921).
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Wednesday, September 17, 2003
Why, Indeed.
Posted by Jimmy Saffron @ 8:00 PM
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Tuesday, September 16, 2003
recall rehash
Posted by Barry @ 3:00 PM
I'm just wondering how we're supposed to seriously elect someone who WILLINGLY wants to go live in Sacremento?????
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Biographic Violence
Posted by Jimmy Saffron @ 11:08 AM
I was recently told I needed to draft a personal bio, vis a vis my ambitions as a writer in this famed industry. I offer up my first attempt to you, The Committee, for your comments and suggestions. If it reeks of narcissism, if it smacks of sanctimony, if it screams "professional suicide," well then, I think I'm on my way.
Jimmy Saffron grew up in Indianapolis, Indiana. Throughout his schooling, he held jobs in several different sectors, listed here in chronological order: Farming, Health Care Center Food Service, Bicycle and Furniture Assembly, Video Retail. With the support and encouragement of his parents, he stayed healthy, graduated with honors and saved a good amount of money. Later, while earning his Bachelor of Arts from Denison University in Granville, Ohio, he spent nearly all of that money making well-intentioned but ultimately disastrous 16mm films that were distinguished in part by their focus on abstract imagery and ideas, but more so by their belated delivery, ponderous length and complete lack of story, spoken dialogue and live human actors. He graduated in 2000, a member of Phi Beta Kappa and Presidential Medalist.
The following summer, Saffron traveled to Istanbul, Turkey, and then to the remote island of Cyprus. He and his friends swam in the Mediterranean, ate heartily of the local cuisine, and visited the many untouched Byzantine, Ottoman and Ptolemaic-Roman antiquities on display in the countryside. Later, they ventured out onto the UN-guarded demilitarized zone that divides the island between the Turkish-ruled North where they were vacationing and the Greek South, internationally recognized as the Republic of Cyprus. There they met an eighteen-year-old British soldier, who was serving her time as a UN peacekeeper and generally enjoying it, though she seemed a little bored with it all. Saffron and his friends were profoundly affected by this, their first glimpse of modern warfare up close. They left the island thinking many things, among them, “what a great idea for a sitcom!”
Shortly after moving to California, Saffron took a job as a writers’ assistant on the Ruddy-Morgan/Belford Group production of Flatland, an episodic fantasy/action series starring Dennis Hopper, to be shot entirely on location in the People’s Republic of China. Saffron stayed in Shanghai for the run of the production, which lasted more than a year. The morning of September 11, 2001 was for him late at night, and he was without radio, TV or internet when the attacks occurred. He learned of them over the phone. He will never forget the messages he received from his friends and family the next day, and how instantly and indelibly his perception of his country and his world changed. He vowed to stay politically and socially conscious from that point forward.
While helping to make Flatland, Saffron also served as the script coordinator and even acted in the role of Fenton, the stuffy US embassy clerk in the episode “Higher Form of Killing.” Though competition for the role was zero, Saffron maintains he was cast solely on his merits, those being his smallish stature, wire-frame eyeglasses, and the ability to make his voice crack on cue. Overall, China taught Saffron about nearly every aspect of series production, but it especially encouraged his writing. He began contributing dialogue and scenes, and eventually his spec script “Witches” was purchased by the company and shot as one of the final 22 episodes.
Since returning from China, Saffron has concentrated on writing and developing episodic television, revealing a penchant for idyllic settings and colorful ensembles, with people who endear despite (or maybe because of) their very evident flaws. He likes his characters smart and funny, though finds he enjoys writing dumb ones, too.
Without stressing too much their influence on his writing style and choice of subject matter, here are some of the television programs that have brought Saffron pleasure in the past: The Sopranos, Six Feet Under, The Larry Sanders Show, Twin Peaks, The X-Files, The West Wing, Sports Night, Northern Exposure, Dawson’s Creek, Freaks and Geeks, Undeclared, The Simpsons, Seinfeld, and Curb Your Enthusiasm. He hopes to produce exciting, enduring television on par with these works.
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Short Circuit
Posted by Jimmy Saffron @ 10:17 AM
Fuck the recall. Here's hoping people get fucking sick of it. And here's hoping this issue yields more and more rancor over the Bush vs. Gore decision.
Call me craven. Call me treasonous. But if this serves to remind people of the distinct possibility that our current president was never truly elected, all the better. Wonderful timing.
Gotta love the Ninth Circuit, making those justices eat their words. A friend of mine worked there over the summer. Maybe I can get him to write in with a little history.
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Monday, September 15, 2003
"Why Am I Mr. Pink?"
Posted by Shakti Mann @ 8:36 PM
Billy, why do I have to be Paul Begala?
I don't want to be Paul Begala.
Couldn't you find a more suitable (but equally derisive) cable news doppelgänger for me?
How about Eric Alterman? I'll be Eric Alterman....
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How To Do Vegas On You Girlfriend's Mom's Money
Posted by Analogcabin @ 6:59 PM
So initially it was my intention simply to let you know that I'll be away for a few days -- in Vegas for work. Then, upon performing the customary pre-casino checking account status report, I uncovered that some fucking fuck has stolen one of my check card numbers and, on September 4th, charged $49 at a Battle Creek, MI Exxon. Then, to rub it in, the fucking fucker charged $52 on the same day at the same gas station. I reported the fuck, disputed the charge, and the card was cancelled.
Normally, this would not have been a problem, as I have another checking account complete with ATM card. However, that bank neglected to send me a new card to replace the one that expired in June. Though I've been calling and screaming at them for months, I've still not received the promised replacement.
This left me in the precarious position of having $40 in cash and no access to more prior to my departure tomorrow morning.
After contacting the casino and being told my personal banknotes aren't worth much to them, I've arranged to receive a decent amount of money from my girlfriend's mother.
I can't be certain, but I suspect I will feel pangs of guilt laying that cash on the craps table, let alone stuffing it into the thongs of some of Las Vegas' famed dancing girls.
When I return on Friday, I'll let you know how that struggle goes.
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Terminated!
Posted by Billy Sumday @ 6:55 PM
I agree that Arnold is looking less like a serious politician and more like a delusional, power-hungry, ingratiating asshole every day. No, wait. He never looked like a serious politician, and he always looked like a delusional, power-hungry, ingratiating asshole. My bad.
What I find (and found) so flabbergastory is the fact that he was ever considered a serious candidate. Seriously, on what grounds? He has given money to political organizations in the past. He helped found the National Council on Physical Fitness or some shit like that. If that is what it takes to be a threatening opponent in a gubernatorial race, then Elvis, with his once renowned status as a federal drug deputy, should have been governor, preferably of all fifty states at once. But you can't blame a guy for trying, and I don't blame Mr. Universe. I just don't understand how every other conservative layed down, and how the press decided that he was suddenly the front runner. Which doesn't seem to have ever been supported by any factual evidencio.
Man, this is great. Anablogcabin is slowly morphing into a completely haphazard, less articulate, and largely uninformed version of CNN's hit series CROSSFIRE.
Can I be Tucker Carlson? Oh, goody! And Jimmy, you can be Robert Novak - I know how much you like his jowls. OK, Cabin, how about you be James Carville? Your face has a similarly shrink-wrapped quality. Shakti Mann, I do believe you'll be our own little Paul Begala, all shifty-eyed and sputterer of quips and jibes. Who does that leave out? Sue, yes, well, Sue, how about you be our oft-invited guest and CNN nighttime anchor Aaron Brown? I do believe you'll relish your role, just be sure to add that journalistic amibiguity and a general broadcast ineptness we've all come to love from Mr. Brown. And the Spencer 2000? Well, hm. That's a toughie. How about you be the predictably and unceasingly maligned Connie Chung, host of your own show and CNN token Asian. And as for Barry Kailee, well, Barry - just be yourself.
Indeed! I believe that sums it up, gentlemen. Professional politicos beware! (and start taking notes). There're some new kids on the White House block, and they're giving their opinions - straight up! If we are truly the generation of internet polls, quick decisions, and a general apathy for morality and manners, then look no further than Anablogcabin to hear the voice of generation; to feel the pulse of a nation; to see the soul of a people.
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Recall?... What recall?
Posted by Sue @ 4:08 PM
I live in California and this is all news to me. Seriously, I'm not kidding.
(Yes, I am)
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Recall Recalled
Posted by Analogcabin @ 1:49 PM
I'm no longer a resident of California and so I don't care except in the most intangible, intellectual ways. Even if I did live in California, I'm not sure I'd care.
Nonetheless, the big news has now certainly shifted from the demise of Ritter and the debate over the validity of his career to the demise of the recall and what this means for a nation of people looking for reason and love among the wreckage of a once great empire.
The empire of which I speak is, of course, Sacramento. (A word which, incidentally, comes from the Spanish for "sacred, chewable breath mint.")
I'll leave the in-depth discussion to better informed pundits and California residents, but I feel safe in saying that this is most certainly the death of Arnold's campaign. He could barely keep the wheels on for this long. Too much more campaigning and I think people might start wondering what he stands for.
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Sunday, September 14, 2003
The Barefoot Executive
Posted by Shakti Mann @ 7:33 PM
Of course, like most people, I hold John Ritter personally responsible for the $14 or so that I spent on "Problem Child" and "Stay Tuned."
But lest we forget Ritter's touching turn in "Sling Blade," raucous histrionics in the ensemble hootenanny "Noises Off...," and winning star performance in "They All Laughed"--a rhinestone in the ruff of director Peter Bogdanovich's most painfully indulgent period.
Repeat after me, Billy: What Would Cash Do?
He'd give credit where credit is due.
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The Greatest Cowboy of them All
Posted by Billy Sumday @ 6:59 PM
I've been camping for the past few days so I ask, with both disillusionment and regret, is it true? Cash?
I suppose everyone knew his time was soon. But did it have to go down the way it did? Did he really have to die the same day as John Ritter? I swear to God. What a pipsqueak. What a goddamn loon. Always had to upstage, didn't ya, Ritter? Always overacting, weren't ya? Always trying to RUIN MY LIFE!
Even in death you succeeded in pissing me off, John. Problem Child just wasn't enough for you, was it? Skin Deep wasn't enough of a sequoia log up my ass. No, you had to go off and suffer an aortic tear on the same day that - AH! WORDS ARE FAILING MY SUDDEN ANGER! RITTER, I SPITE YOU TO HELL!
OK, I'm calm again. You know, John, the day you died just happened to be the day that Johnny Cash died. That was a party you crashed, but weren't invited to. Did you know that? For godssake, you were only 54. Jesus. Talk about trying too hard. Oh, and that moment of silence we all shared? No, John, it wasn't for you, you untalented piece of shit. That's right. It was for Johnny.
You know what, though, Ritter, I gotta hand it to you. Nice try. Job well attempted. Mission nearly accomplished. My idol dies and you try to fuck it up. Well, guess what. It didn't work. In fact, I didn't even notice that you died. What? John Ritter's dead? NO WAY!
Fuck you, Ritter.
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One Piece at a Time
Posted by Shakti Mann @ 12:52 AM
This is a great write-up.
Unlike Stephen Holden's serviceable obituary, Nichols' really gets at what made the Man in Black the "bedrock" that the Gray Lady declared him.
Nichols' is the paean to Cash that I've been waiting to see. From The Nation, as I should have suspected.
The article also tips its hat at the photo Analog used for his own special eulogy. So, if for no other reason, read it to give that precious shot some context.
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Friday, September 12, 2003
One for the Man in Black...
Posted by Shakti Mann @ 9:23 AM
[Photo by Ryan Irvin, artist and sometime visitor to Analogcabin.com]
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R.I.P.
Posted by Analogcabin @ 8:15 AM
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Thursday, September 11, 2003
Yeah, I'm pretty pissed at the world too...
Posted by Sue @ 7:47 PM
So here's my two cents:
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A Shell of a Staff
Posted by Analogcabin @ 5:15 PM
I check back so many times each day, yet all I have are questions.
"Will the Spencer2K ever break his silence about the Survivor girl?"
"Did Barry survive Burning Man, and will he post pictures here?"
"Is Billy in the process of moving to LA and, if so, will he treat us to tales of illicit sex with women of dubious reputation once there?"
"Are Buddhist school girls easy?"
"When this incessant judgment of Amy ever cease?"
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New, Exciting
Posted by Analogcabin @ 1:25 PM
I'm sure I'm not the only one that's noticed the new "upload file" feature that appeared in the Blogger interface overnight.
Let's try it, shall we?
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Stuttering Carrie/Kerry
Posted by Analogcabin @ 9:14 AM
This morning one of Howard Stern's interns was on-air because she's an expert in comic books. During the brief interview, it was revealed that the young lass is a Denison graduate. Apparently she's taking some classes at NYU while interning, so I'm guessing she graduated at some point in the last few years.
Also, she stutters.
Anybody know who this is?
I know this is a question that would have been better to email. Sue me, you bastards.
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Wednesday, September 10, 2003
Excerpts
Posted by Jimmy Saffron @ 8:13 PM
I'm very excited to announce that Anablogcabin has received an advanced copy of this much-anticipated and sure-to-be-controversial work. Below are some excerpts:
From Chapter 1, entitled "Beginnings..."
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. I was born Jayson Montgomery Freeman, in the back of a '76 Hyundai Impala station wagon, on the shoulder of Highway 567 in Monticello, North Virginia. A mere fifteen minutes from the hospital-- we almost made it. My father, beloved actor Morgan Freeman, decided he would change my last name, so as to spare me the unwanted attentions of the paparazzi. It wasn't the first time I would compromise myself for the sake of a rabid, scandal-obsessed media...
From Chapter 8, entitled "Middles..."
"...and that," said my good friend and mentee Frederick Douglass, "is why they'll hate you, Jayson Blair." "Yes," I replied, "however, just what this country has in store to benefit or to startle the world in the future, no tongue can tell. We know full well the wonderful things which have occurred or have been accomplished here in the past, but the still more wonderful things which we may well say will happen in the centuries of development which lie before us, is vain conjecture, it lies in the domain of speculation." "I couldn't have said it better myself," said Freddy. "May I cite you?" "Cite away," I said.
From the epilogue, entitled "Continuings..."
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past. And it just so chanced, that after the Parsee's disappearance, I was he whom the Fates ordained to take the place of Ahab's bowsman, when that bowsman assumed the vacant post. But the heavens do not fall for such a trifle. Would they have fallen, I wonder, if I had rendered Kurtz that justice which was his due? Hadn’t he said he wanted only justice? But I couldn’t. I could not tell her. It would have been too dark--too dark altogether....
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As for Spencer....
Posted by Analogcabin @ 1:50 PM
I spoke with the Spencer2K recently about certain issues. Namely, where the fuck he's been and why the fuck he's not posting.
Naturally, I received no straight answer. I did, however, find out that he'll be attending a Survivor viewing party at the home of his once-loved, twice-baked Christa next Thursday.
I've been envious of many things in my life. Ted Turner's money. Colin Farrell's conquests. Mr. Ed's penis. Nothing so much as I am envious of this. The laughter, the cringes, the feelings of betrayal, the promise of methamphetamines mixed into the hummus.
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Blogger Bug
Posted by Analogcabin @ 9:04 AM
I know there's very little less interesting than software bugs, but I've decided to outline one I've discovered in Blogger, anyway. The only reason is that it might be the source of some confusion for our beloved readership. And if it means preserving our beloved readership, I'll subject them to boredom.
I've found that, when publishing a post from home (where I use a Mac running Safari,) my posts were being attributed to "Analog" -- my Blogger-registered first name. When posting from my Windows machine at work, the attribution goes to the registered "Nickname." In scrolling through other posts on the site, it appears the same issue exists for many of us.
I'm not sure why this happens, but I remedied the situation by changing my "Nickname" and "First Name" to the same thing.
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Tuesday, September 09, 2003
Analogcabin... My Hero.
Posted by Sue @ 10:43 AM
Take a look at this BBB rundown on "Starving Students" moving company... Northstar Movers weren't even listed. Had I checked the BBB prior to my move, I would have saved myself a lot of rage, anger and even the bloodshed of innocent thousands in Iraq, perhaps.
Instead, I read the BBB and can feel my libido growing exponentially.
Thank you, Mr. Cabin.
Now that this matter is resolved, let's get back to The Spencer2K and his misadventures with the dame from "Survivor." Where the fuck is that guy?
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You Moved Me
Posted by Analogcabin @ 9:43 AM
I was moved by Sue's posting.
(You see, I used the word "moved" twice above not only to describe my positive emotional response to what Sue had written, but also to reference the topic of his post, "moving.")
Moving is always a struggle, and bad experiences with professional or semi-pro movers only exacerbate the experience. I've used movers a few times, and, though it's not generally the tone of this blog, I thought I might share some of them.
Always Check with the BBB
Any reputable mover will be listed on the BBB site, and you'll be able to read complaints filed against them and see how they've responded. In truth, I read the BBB even when I'm not moving. It incites the righteous rage that fuels my sexual tenacity.
Get an Estimate in Person
If someone won't send a salesman to your house or apartment to do your estimate, fuck 'em before they fuck you. Also, keep a rag damp with chloroform handy in case the salesman that comes to your house is cute.
Sign a Flat Rate Contract
Most movers will give you the choice of a flat rate or flexible contract. Compare estimates from different companies for the former. The difference is that the flat rate contract is based on an in person estimate and won't change. The flexible contract is based on time and supplies. The flat rate estimate is always higher, but one of the classic ways movers fuck you over is by low-balling the estimate then using excessive packing materials and surcharging you for them. In a nutshell, you never know what you're getting when you agree to a flexible rate. Additionally, in a flat rate deal the movers will get you moved out and moved in incredibly quickly ('cause they not charging hourly.)
Pack Yourself
Moving companies will be more than happy to pack your shit for you. They'll even encourage it by saying that you're not insured if you pack yourself. Do it anyway -- unpacking will be easier, you'll do a better job, it'll be about a hundred times cheaper, and you'll enjoy a nice little walk down memory lane.
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The Local Color? Day-Glo.
Posted by Shakti Mann @ 9:33 AM
I used to hang out at one of the Pizza King restaurants that they mention in this article every day after class during my senior year of high school. With my loud music and pocket full of no-good.
And people wonder why I hung around Hoosier-Land so long...
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Monday, September 08, 2003
Speak of the Devil...
Posted by Sue @ 5:42 PM
Today on KCRW 89.9FM I heard "Werewolves of London" played in its entirety. Now, this was before I found out that Zevon had passed away from lung cancer (ahem, Analogcabin and all yous smokers out there). But after checking into the 'cabin, it all suddenly made sense as to why this station, which usually never plays classic rock, decided to air this tune. The pieces of the puzzle have finally come together. Thank you, fellow rockers.
Anyway, I have just finished moving into my new apartment. I had arranged for two separate moving companies to move my shit for me and both of them flaked (i.e., didn't show up and/or would have shown up 3 hours late!). There comes a time in every man's life when you stop asking your friends to help you move. I thought that time was now. Apparently I was wrong.
Anyway, it's all done and over with. Just please, all of you beware of the substandard business practices of "Northstar Movers" and "Starving Students." Sorry to make the Anablogcabin a consumer sounding board, but I think it's my duty to make all of you aware of these fuckers.
Thank you and good night.
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Yeah
Posted by Analogcabin @ 1:08 PM
"Dancing on My Fault Line" was the best Mike and The Mechanics record ever, without a doubt.
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All Up in My Mix
Posted by Shakti Mann @ 12:42 PM
It's a good thing you didn't go with that first response, Cabin. You don't want to be dancing on my fault line.
I will cut you.
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Zevon Down the Road
Posted by Analogcabin @ 9:35 AM
There have been a number of times when I've written online about someone dying who I thought was already dead. Each time, the mistake and related consternation have been grossly exaggerated for what I try to pass off as comedic effect. But this Warren Zevon thing... it's genuine, I promise. I really, truly thought he was dead already.
Somehow the event was fresh in my mind, which I find especially upsetting, as it never happened. I was so certain that Shakti's post referenced an out of date article, I very nearly responded with a scathing Welcome Back From the Monastery, You Out of Touch Buddhist Nut Job post. But after some cross-checking and date-reading, I've come to peace with that Warren Zevon was alive as recently as yesterday.
None of this changes the questions concerning how he'll be remembered. Will discussion go beyond "Werewolves of London?" Can it possibly? Did you know Zevon played piano for the Everley Brothers? He was no Randy Newman. But even Randy Newman was no Randy Newman, until he started writing um-pah songs about bugs and shellfish.
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One for Me...
Posted by Shakti Mann @ 8:11 AM
...and one for my homie.
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Saturday, September 06, 2003
Uh-huh
Posted by Billy Sumday @ 10:38 PM
I dig.
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The Haters
Posted by Analogcabin @ 5:05 PM
Don't hate the player, Sumday. Hate the game.
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Friday, September 05, 2003
Why so picky?
Posted by Billy Sumday @ 6:04 PM
I have to ask, Mr. Cabin, why single out only one of your posts as "sounding like it was written by a 17-year-old that reads too much Ayn Rand..." and yada yada and we get the point. I mean, why wipe your ass in the middle of a diarrhetic seizure? And why, for that matter, with only one ply?
If you retracted (or rather, clarified) all of your posts, the faithful readers of anablogcabin would be stuck reading an endless struggle between your loveable, confusing, non-sensical self and your struggling semantic perfectionist.
You know, cabin, you'll never be perfect. Fortunately, what you can do is aspire to be yourself. And folks, isn't that a lesson for all of us?
And no, I don't retract this post.
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Retraction
Posted by Analogcabin @ 5:18 PM
Upon re-reading my post of yesterday regarding various religious peoples and their travails, I've decided to publish this retraction.
Actually, it's not a retraction so much as it is a clarification.
I don't hate religious people at all. The post really came off sounding like it was written by a 17-year-old that reads too much Ayn Rand when not otherwise occupied by unspeakable images of Gillian Anderson or games of Warhammer 2K. It's important to me that you understand I'm not like that.
Anymore.
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Thursday, September 04, 2003
What's the Big Idea, God?
Posted by Analogcabin @ 12:50 PM
There's nothing that gets my nipples harder than religious nuts getting screwed by God, so the Big Idea debacle's got me straight trippin', Boo.
As I'm in Chicago, and as I work with a number of animators, I've heard some really terrific first-hand horror stories about the way Big Idea was run. None is better, though, than this email sent to employees a few months ago. Particularly precious is the timing. The boss man talks about the amazing ways God's used his crew, and as payment He's decided to forgo paychecks for His Only Son's birthday. I guess their pay stubs are in Heaven.
And this Amish thing... well, it just goes to show that God doesn't much care how pious you are, or whether you believe in "modern conveniences." They believe in you, so don't bring a tomato to a gun fight.
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A child previously of the corn
Posted by Billy Sumday @ 12:19 PM
In a way, he had it coming. I mean, I know Mount Hope, Ohio isn't exactly Detroit, but in this day and age, you don't go around throwing tomatos at cars and pelting passerby with paintballs. Of course, the idea of "this day and age" is antithetical to Amish livin' in general, but excuse me, Mr. Man, but where I come from the Amish don't have paintball guns. Tomatos, perhaps. Fields of produce, perhaps. Mischieveous intent, certainly.
I just don't know what to think of all this. I'd rather imagine the Amish in a romantic light - the sweet and simple dullards depicted in Witness and country kitchen calendars, churning butter by day and burning gas lamps at night, reading their garbled German Bibles. It's no secret to some of you that I once dated a Mennonite lass. That's right, Billy Sumday broke from his Evangelical Protestant roots and "went Mennonite". You know the saying: "once you go back (culturally, in time), you never go back (emotionally or romantically, in time)". Kind of catchy, don't you think?
Anyway, I digress. Back to my Mennonite sprite. She was a sweet girl. Just a song in her heart and a skirt over her ankles. A bonnet on Sundays and lace hanging from her shoulders. No paintball guns, road rage, or murder. And I ask you: is this too much to ask of our Amish?
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God Made You Special, and He Loves You Very Much
Posted by Shakti Mann @ 12:18 PM
Wow.
I bet when the details come out on this little fiasco, they're going to be juicy.
Pun intended.
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Wednesday, September 03, 2003
You got me straight trippin', boo
Posted by Billy Sumday @ 8:48 PM
I think I read somewhere that nobody responded to Hilda's online drug inquiries, at least not the "does anyone know where I can find meth in LA...if so, who should I contact and how do I go about getting some" post. Jeez, that doesn't like a cop at all. Nope. No cop would ever go on an easily accessible online forum catering to hard drug users and ask "who and how" one could score some meth. Totally out of the question. Completely.
But I'm sure she'll do great on Survivor.
Uhm, does anyone know who I should contact or how I should go about winning this game? Anyone?
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Hawthorne gets real
Posted by Jimmy Saffron @ 2:56 PM
Sweet sugary slander! She's fast become the Hester Prynne of the Pearl Islands!
But which scarlet letter to brand her with? "NMW" for "National Meth Week?" "CB" for "Coke Bong?" "H" for "Hilda" (her middle name-- worthy of scorn in its own right).
Shall we put it to a vote, fellow Puritanimaniacs? And dare we reveal to the world the identity of her own personal Reverend Dimmesdale, the man we all know to be responsible for her tumble from grace, the man who turned her innocent head to the sky by yelling "Look," then shoved her headlong into his backyard pool of depravity, giggling all the while?
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More Detail....
Posted by Analogcabin @ 12:38 PM
The Smoking Gun has more on the unnamed Survivor contest, including the alt.drugs postings that are causing the stir.
I'm beginning to think that a girl who'd post an inquiry in to where she could score meth in Orange County (ah... try anywhere) online using her entire real name is dumb.
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Fuel for Love?
Posted by Analogcabin @ 11:27 AM
In the interest of protecting the innocent, I won't say which of the Survivors discussed herein is she who one of us knows carnally, but a question must be raised: Is the Spencer2K dealing?
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Tuesday, September 02, 2003
Overheard...
Posted by Jimmy Saffron @ 6:24 PM
...on the Fox Studios lot this afternoon:
Person #1: "Dude, 'Sixteen Candles' comes out on DVD this Tuesday. Special Edition."
Person #2: "Fullscreen or letterbox?"
Person #1: "Letterbox."
Person #2: "Better be."
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Absence Makes the Fart Grow Longer
Posted by Analogcabin @ 5:28 PM
There's nothing quite like a fantastic fart joke to begin a post for which the author, in this case me, has no clear intention prior to putting pen to paper, in this case grubby fingers to greasy keyboard. And not even a joke, really. Not even by the lowest, in this case my standards. Regardless, it's how I'm going at this one.
I, too, have felt the vacuum left by Spencer2K. I don't mean that in the he-left-a-Hoover-at-my-house-and-I-fucked-the-shit-out-of-that-coy-little-whore-of-an-appliance way. I mean it more metaphorically. What I mean to say is that I've noticed the dearth of posts written by him. I can only assume he's not posted because he's hiding something. I suspect it has to do with The Committee's abortive attempts to control his love life.
Which, of course, brings us to the matter of a certain Survivor: Pearl Islands contestant. Obviously she survived the trial that is love-making with the Spencer2K, but did she do it with aplomb? I want to know the details. Did the Spencer2K spot the map of her flesh with Pearl Island of his own?
Details, old boy. It's what will bring this divided crew together.
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What's More is That...
Posted by Sue @ 3:51 PM
...One of our Anablogcabin staff members (the seemingly absent The Spencer2K) once dated a member of Survivor 7.
However, I will defer the details of the matter to The Spencer2K. As such, please direct your inquiries to him.
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Survivor Pool Announced, Nation Joyous
Posted by Analogcabin @ 9:13 AM
Some of you are familiar with my annually unpopular Survivor Fantasy Pool. Many of you are not. No matter which group you claim as kith, you're invited to participate. For details, check out the Miscellany section of this here site.
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Monday, September 01, 2003
Mo-Blogging, Mo' Problems
Posted by Shakti Mann @ 1:51 PM
How helpful this Christine Boese is.
Please, Cabin. Do yourself a favor and read.
And, Saffron, do the rest of us a favor and read this.
Fuckface.
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