-I started reading McSweeney's again, having unconsciously stopped sometime at the end of my senior year of high school. It's probably the funniest shit out there right now. Funnier than 30 Rock. Funnier than Portnoy's Complaint. Funnier than Charlie Croft talking about Native Americans via text message at 8 in the morning. Funnier than the Autobiography Ziggy Stardust's Personal Assistant. Wait. But it's also subtle, and ever wise. Here is an excerpt from one of my favorite recent pieces entitled, "Miles Davis's Container Gardening tips" (written by Ryan Abbott):
"This is it, this is the most important tip, so wrap it in tissue paper and take it out of here when you go. The space around everything is more precious than the items occupying the space...The space around your plants is what defines them. Save that space, relish it, drink it in. Give your plants room to walk, to be seen and heard, to develop deep and hungry roots with their own space to explore and invent, the freedom to create new shades and shapes, arms that reach through the empty air to carve fresh pockets in which to build an entirely new kind of fruit or flower. A type never tasted, something unheard of."
More impressive, however, is James Felming's Selections from the Cosby Codex, which, "represents an attempt to offer the definitive theoretical reading of The Cosby Show, a foundational text in Late Postmodern Western Culture, or a multicultural, post-cognitive text par-excellence," and which I'm not going to quote from because I'm pissed I didn't write it, it's so genius.
-This week's gonna be amazing.
-We're doing a radio show, on Mondays, starting next week. Don't really know who "we" entails at this point. Elliot and I and some meth heads. Forget what time it's at. The title of the show was supposed to be "Songs About Jesus," which is snappy and fun to say (with Nietzschean undertones), but Elliot managed to reword that into some bulkily sarcastic reference to the bible or some shit, which wasn't even the point. Will probably spend the majority of the first show bitching about this and discussing the Camden Family's views on marijuana, which will actually tie in, as Mr. Camden's obstinant response to the herb likely stems heavily from a certain paradigm of "morality" propagated by the church to which he is tied and his views on the implication of God. (In fact this kind of melodramatic outburst proves to be, when observed against the image of Mr. Camden established by the show --for the most part a"cool reverend" (and the WB's closest rendition of Atticus Finch): non-judgmental, understanding, and actually sometimes helpful; the sort of guy that you'd expect to respond rationally and judiciously to this kind of situation-- surprisingly out of character. For more on glimpses of deeply embedded socially constructed prejudices savagely bursting through the astute façades of archetypal television fathers, and the social implications, see Howard Cunningham Flipping Out When Richie Brings a "Beatnik" to Dinner (Happy Days, Episode 1.13.)) Link to show/less lofty details to be posted.
-If you're ever faced with the opportunity to take an English course centering on "Western American Expansion Fiction," decline immediately. You will read one really good Mark Twain book, some Cormac McCarthy (maybe) and Annie Proulx, and the rest will be bull shit yet require an enormous amount of your time and effort, because while a very good book does demand a heightened level of, well, mental work, a bad book is nearly fucking impossible to get through. Yes, I'm looking at you, James Fenimore Cooper: for all your grand ambition, you are a cliché, and a lousy writer, and getting even halfway through Last of the Mohicans was like pulling out my own teeth in front of an enormous screen with American landscapes projected on it. I think it was your underlying fear of miscegenation. (Actually, for an amazingly ruthless roast on Cooper, see Lawrence's essay "Fenimore Cooper's Leatherstocking Novels," which is full of wit, as well as a couple valid arguments regarding the aforementioned text.) I understand the importance of some shitty texts in the context of the history/evolution of certain kinds of literature. But I don't really get why one should be required to read them. So heed my advice, children. Study Chaucer.
-"If I wanted to watch an arrogant nerd act passive-aggressive for two hours I'd sit at home and Skype with my ex-girlfriend." A friend, on the Facebook movie, which I am officially done talking about.
-Bacon, egg, tomato, avocado, and Gruyère on toasted fucking wheat bread is the best fucking sandwich of all time I do noooot want to hear it
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