Why are people so stupid and uninformed? Why does everyone want to own a lot of crap they don't need? Why do we never know what's REALLY going on? A lot of people say it's the media.
"Those manipulative, no good bastards! They're in bed with giant corporations. Did you know there are only five big media companies, worldwide? They're pushing their own agenda. They always give us superficial twaddle! I want to know more about the war in wherever-the-war-is-now. All the media talks about is Michael Jackson's funeral. Oh the media! How I hate them!"
Or so the argument usually goes.
Welcome to the future. The line between producers and consumers of media is starting to disappear. The Internet makes it so -- I have seen the media, and we are it. We can no longer rail against journalists, because we are all journalists. Any foul-mouthed asshole can go online and spew his shit.
Me, for example. It appears that I am personally helping to kill the newspaper industry.
If the media sucks, it's because we suck.
Kent Brockman, a character on the Simpsons, put it best: "Now, at the risk of being unpopular, this reporter places the blame for all of this squarely on YOU, the viewers!"
Even ignoring the Internet, bad media is our own fault. It's a ratings game. If people watch it, that's what gets made. If no one watches, it's taken off the air. That's the wonder of capitalism -- if no one buys it, then no one makes it.
Why do you think America's Funniest Videos is in it's 20th season? Corporate conspiracy? Not at all. People love watching men get hit in the balls. Why? Because the majority of human beings are stupid escapists. After a hard day of work, they want to sit down and watch something funny and idiotic, that doesn't challenge them but eases their pain.
That's my theory, anyway. Some would argue that people aren't stupid -- it's that they're not properly educated. They aren't being given opportunities. The media underestimates humanity.
"The people are unaware of the power they have! If only everyone came together and demanded an end to world poverty -- it could happen! People WANT to watch 'Dancing With The Stars', but they SHOULD watch documentaries about the Canadian political system!"
All the same, world poverty continues. Why? Because people are stupid and lazy and they don't want to unite over anything. They don't want to think. Most people are comfortable enough. They want someone else to think and tell them what to do, because they're busy and they don't give a shit about the big picture. And if no one is going to think for them, then fuck it, they'll sit around and watch bad TV and read newspapers with small words and big pictures.
Many people rant and rave about Fox News. It's the most biased and ill-informed television source since the first caveman bellowed an incoherent roar of disapproval at fire. Fox is televised shit. I loathe it.
But clearly there are a lot of people out there who desperately want to be lied to. They want to hear America is great, that everything is fine, that selfishness is good, that being afraid of foreigners makes sense. Bizarrely, Fox viewers want to see Bill O'Reilly scream and yell.
We can all complain about Fox being crap. It will change nothing. A lot of people love eating shit.
There is something you can do, if the media irks you. Stop bitching about it. Make videos and put them on YouTube. Start a blog. Promote the ideas you think are being ignored. The Internet is your printing press, your access to humanity.
Hate what's on TV? Make your own TV show. Write scripts and post them online. Or take it a step further -- get some friends together and make a TV show. If your web videos get a lot of hits, big companies will come knocking on your door, begging to do your idea justice.
Join the conversation. At no other time in history has it been easier to get your perspective out into the world.
Don't hate the media -- you are the media.
Of course, maybe I'm right. People are lazy and stupid and dull. It's certainly a lot easier to complain about the media, than to create the media you'd like to see.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Believe The Socialist Moustache
Few people know this, but Jack Layton's moustache is fake. It's made from Margaret Atwood's pubic hair. Layton won it in a poker game against Margaret Atwood, Pierre Burton, and The Guess Who. Of course they were all stoned at the time. The game took place in the Lord Elgin, in the gay nightclub that used to be in the basement.
"Royal Flush, Maggie!" Layton yelled with triumph. "Drop your drawers and make me a moustache!"
Atwood, half out of her mind on schnapps and the finest BC bud, cheerfully complied. She climbed up on to the poker table and clipped her pubes with nail cutters. When Layton gathered up the hairs and put them under his nose, the crowd roared its approval.
Nowadays, the mere mention of Jack Layton is enough to make the unflappable Margaret Atwood blush. Oh, those misspent carefree days of youth, before one became a literary canon unto herself, Atwood thinks with a sigh.
At first, Layton wore the moustache in public as a joke. He got attached to the look, the feel, the smell. Then he began attributing mystical powers to the moustache. It gave him eloquence. He could astral project into the nightmares of Conservative politicians, taunting them with things like emotion and empathy. And most importantly, when he kissed babies, they became thoughtful and silent. And socialist.
No one is quite sure how, but Stephen Harper became aware of the moustache and its powers. Maybe it was the time Layton forgot his moustache in the Parliament Hill cafeteria's bathroom. A page tried on the moustache, and it almost killed him. They carried the poor kid out on a stretcher, his eyes and ears bleeding. Later, he slipped into a coma. To this very day, you'll find him, half dead, in an obscure corner of the Royal Ottawa Hospital. The NDP foots all the medical bills, sparing no expense. In fact, there's an entire ward full of such moustache injuries. That's why the NDP is so broke.
On stormy nights, Harper climbs to the very top of the Peace Tower, like Quasimodo in a sweater vest, and shakes his fist at the sky.
"As God is my witness," he screams into the night, "that moustache one day will be mine! All mine!"
Rumours abound that Harper has threatened and begged Atwood for another fistful of fur. Atwood refuses. Little does Harper realize that due to a freak electrolysis accident, Atwood is as smooth and hairless as granite.
During one leader's debate, Harper had to be physically restrained from leaping his podium and attacking Layton outright. Fortunately for Harper, the cameras weren't rolling. Layton assumes the whole thing was about politics. He's clueless to the seething jealousy that haunts Harper's every waking moment.
"Layton's moustache," Harper is constantly muttering to himself. "Layton's moustache. Layton's mother fucking moustache..."
As Parliament remains stuck in stalemate, the Liberals and the Conservatives neck and neck, politicians are becoming increasingly superstitious. One MP believes she must never use the word "the" in a press conference. Another MP has begun wearing his wife's underwear, instead of the underwear of his mistress. Rabbit's feet, four leaf clovers, and other charms are traded and fought over.
But one magic charm outshines them all. And like moths becoming aware of a candle, the members of Parliament are beginning to stir, turning towards the source of all power. Ever so slowly it is beginning to dawn on everyone that everything -- absolutely everything -- hangs on the scruffy, perverted, literary hairs tucked neatly beneath the nose of Jack Layton. The last of Margaret Atwood's pubes could save or destroy this country any moment.
"Royal Flush, Maggie!" Layton yelled with triumph. "Drop your drawers and make me a moustache!"
Atwood, half out of her mind on schnapps and the finest BC bud, cheerfully complied. She climbed up on to the poker table and clipped her pubes with nail cutters. When Layton gathered up the hairs and put them under his nose, the crowd roared its approval.
Nowadays, the mere mention of Jack Layton is enough to make the unflappable Margaret Atwood blush. Oh, those misspent carefree days of youth, before one became a literary canon unto herself, Atwood thinks with a sigh.
At first, Layton wore the moustache in public as a joke. He got attached to the look, the feel, the smell. Then he began attributing mystical powers to the moustache. It gave him eloquence. He could astral project into the nightmares of Conservative politicians, taunting them with things like emotion and empathy. And most importantly, when he kissed babies, they became thoughtful and silent. And socialist.
No one is quite sure how, but Stephen Harper became aware of the moustache and its powers. Maybe it was the time Layton forgot his moustache in the Parliament Hill cafeteria's bathroom. A page tried on the moustache, and it almost killed him. They carried the poor kid out on a stretcher, his eyes and ears bleeding. Later, he slipped into a coma. To this very day, you'll find him, half dead, in an obscure corner of the Royal Ottawa Hospital. The NDP foots all the medical bills, sparing no expense. In fact, there's an entire ward full of such moustache injuries. That's why the NDP is so broke.
On stormy nights, Harper climbs to the very top of the Peace Tower, like Quasimodo in a sweater vest, and shakes his fist at the sky.
"As God is my witness," he screams into the night, "that moustache one day will be mine! All mine!"
Rumours abound that Harper has threatened and begged Atwood for another fistful of fur. Atwood refuses. Little does Harper realize that due to a freak electrolysis accident, Atwood is as smooth and hairless as granite.
During one leader's debate, Harper had to be physically restrained from leaping his podium and attacking Layton outright. Fortunately for Harper, the cameras weren't rolling. Layton assumes the whole thing was about politics. He's clueless to the seething jealousy that haunts Harper's every waking moment.
"Layton's moustache," Harper is constantly muttering to himself. "Layton's moustache. Layton's mother fucking moustache..."
As Parliament remains stuck in stalemate, the Liberals and the Conservatives neck and neck, politicians are becoming increasingly superstitious. One MP believes she must never use the word "the" in a press conference. Another MP has begun wearing his wife's underwear, instead of the underwear of his mistress. Rabbit's feet, four leaf clovers, and other charms are traded and fought over.
But one magic charm outshines them all. And like moths becoming aware of a candle, the members of Parliament are beginning to stir, turning towards the source of all power. Ever so slowly it is beginning to dawn on everyone that everything -- absolutely everything -- hangs on the scruffy, perverted, literary hairs tucked neatly beneath the nose of Jack Layton. The last of Margaret Atwood's pubes could save or destroy this country any moment.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Ignatieff: Stupid or Stupid Genius?
Maybe Ignatieff isn't totally retarded -- just slightly retarded. My friend Natalie suggested this to me. I will now elaborate upon and dramatize her theory.
[wavy lines indicating a flashback]
Once upon a time, Ig was sitting in his ivory tower, smoking a pipe, reading Dostoyevsky, and doing other things Liberal politicians do when no one is watching. It suddenly dawned on Iggy that the Liberals don't look like the loyal opposition. They look like intellectual dweebs, hemming and hawing, supporting the Conservatives.
"This sucks," Ig thought to himself. "I don't want people to think of me as a wimpy little Dion. How can I change this? I want our party to be tough, and I want to lead it."
Then it hit him. If he stood up and said, "I want an election," on the first few days before Parliament reconvenes, he would look very decisive. Mind you, he'd be bluffing. No one wants an election, so either the NDP or the Bloq would get in bed with the Conservatives. That would leave the Liberals free to be the opposition, while the NDP or the Bloq get stuck supporting the evil that is Stephen Harper.
"That'll make me look tough," Ig thought. He put down his book, slipped on his emerald green satin bathrobe, and started making phone calls.
Ig's royal advisors pondered the idea, and came up with two points:
1. In the short term, Ig will look like a nutjob. An election? Now? Are you fucking serious? The Liberals, and Iggy, will lose some support.
2. In the long term, Ig will strengthen the Liberal's position. There won't be an election for some time, and the Liberals will look tough. They'll gain back the support they lost, and then some. The stalemate between the Liberals and the Conservatives will finally be broken.
So Ig acted, and behold, he does look like a nutjob. The polls say his latest actions have lost him voter friends. But he might be in a better position than before. Maybe. As long as there isn't an election next week.
[wavy lines indicating the flashback is over]
It's an interesting theory. If things really did happen this way, Iggy may be smarter than he looks. The issue now is, will this short term loss translate into long term gain for the Liberals?
Whoever props up the Conservatives ends up looking weak and foolish. The NDP should know this from past experience, but they have the typical socialist love for the weak and foolish, so they don't mind playing the part.
"People are more important than politics!" the NDP say. Which could very well be the motto of the perpetual loser.
Then there's the Bloq. Half the time I don't know what their strategy is. A provincial party in a federal election always has its own crazy strategy that makes no sense compared to anyone else. All they care about is Quebec, and who knows what the hell is going on over there. Frankly, I try not to think about the Bloq. They scare me.
If any of this theory is real, I think Iggy overplayed his bluff. People really bought his line about wanting an election. I, for one, believed him. My quick scan of the media and its pundits seems to suggest we all fell for it. Ig has successfully pissed everyone off. Because of this, those short term losses might be more extreme than the Liberals expected -- all because Ig is a good actor.
Perhaps Ignatieff is depending on the fact that human beings have the memory of fruit flies. Six weeks from now, we'll all have forgotten his election threat. Everything in our heads gets rinsed clean by the next news cycle. And, strategically, he'll be in a stronger position to make his next move.
[wavy lines indicating a flashback]
Once upon a time, Ig was sitting in his ivory tower, smoking a pipe, reading Dostoyevsky, and doing other things Liberal politicians do when no one is watching. It suddenly dawned on Iggy that the Liberals don't look like the loyal opposition. They look like intellectual dweebs, hemming and hawing, supporting the Conservatives.
"This sucks," Ig thought to himself. "I don't want people to think of me as a wimpy little Dion. How can I change this? I want our party to be tough, and I want to lead it."
Then it hit him. If he stood up and said, "I want an election," on the first few days before Parliament reconvenes, he would look very decisive. Mind you, he'd be bluffing. No one wants an election, so either the NDP or the Bloq would get in bed with the Conservatives. That would leave the Liberals free to be the opposition, while the NDP or the Bloq get stuck supporting the evil that is Stephen Harper.
"That'll make me look tough," Ig thought. He put down his book, slipped on his emerald green satin bathrobe, and started making phone calls.
Ig's royal advisors pondered the idea, and came up with two points:
1. In the short term, Ig will look like a nutjob. An election? Now? Are you fucking serious? The Liberals, and Iggy, will lose some support.
2. In the long term, Ig will strengthen the Liberal's position. There won't be an election for some time, and the Liberals will look tough. They'll gain back the support they lost, and then some. The stalemate between the Liberals and the Conservatives will finally be broken.
So Ig acted, and behold, he does look like a nutjob. The polls say his latest actions have lost him voter friends. But he might be in a better position than before. Maybe. As long as there isn't an election next week.
[wavy lines indicating the flashback is over]
It's an interesting theory. If things really did happen this way, Iggy may be smarter than he looks. The issue now is, will this short term loss translate into long term gain for the Liberals?
Whoever props up the Conservatives ends up looking weak and foolish. The NDP should know this from past experience, but they have the typical socialist love for the weak and foolish, so they don't mind playing the part.
"People are more important than politics!" the NDP say. Which could very well be the motto of the perpetual loser.
Then there's the Bloq. Half the time I don't know what their strategy is. A provincial party in a federal election always has its own crazy strategy that makes no sense compared to anyone else. All they care about is Quebec, and who knows what the hell is going on over there. Frankly, I try not to think about the Bloq. They scare me.
If any of this theory is real, I think Iggy overplayed his bluff. People really bought his line about wanting an election. I, for one, believed him. My quick scan of the media and its pundits seems to suggest we all fell for it. Ig has successfully pissed everyone off. Because of this, those short term losses might be more extreme than the Liberals expected -- all because Ig is a good actor.
Perhaps Ignatieff is depending on the fact that human beings have the memory of fruit flies. Six weeks from now, we'll all have forgotten his election threat. Everything in our heads gets rinsed clean by the next news cycle. And, strategically, he'll be in a stronger position to make his next move.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
True Blood, False Blood
True Blood is a TV show about vampires set in the deep south. Season 2 of the show just ended. I have watched every episode, and I am hooked. Mind you, I hate the show. I hate the characters, I hate the plot, I hate everything. And I have watched all 24 episodes and I’m eager for season 3. My love/hate relationship with “True Blood” confuses me, so I must now rant and rave like an idiot.
The main premise is that vampires have come out of hiding and are now mainstream. They can do this thanks to a new synthetic blood on the market called “True Blood”, available at your local convenience store. It’s never really explained why the vampires went public. Almost all of the vampires on “True Blood” are constantly complaining about being out in the open and what a stupid idea it was.
Except vampire Bill -- one of the main characters - he seems to thinking vampires going public is great. Mind you, he never really says why either. This is all very irritating.
True Blood seems to be using the vampire as a metaphor for something. But what, exactly? There are Christian groups that hate vampires, and one of the opening shots in the credits shows a sign that reads “GOD HATES FANGS” - mimicking the Westboro Baptist Church slogan “God Hates Fags”. It’s good for a laugh, but what does it mean? They also use the line that vampires have “come out of the coffin”, again making a parallel to coming out of the closet. And some states are legalizing human to vampire marriages, while others are not.
So vampires are queer, right? Well, no. Vampire Bill is in love with Sookie. He’s not gay. Many vampires seem willing to screw just about anyone. And there are gay vampires and straight vampires. So the metaphor doesn’t quite fit.
There are some scenes that imply that hating vampires is racist. Sookie and Tara talk about vampires at one point. Tara is black, and Sookie chastises her, thinking Tara should know better, having faced racism herself.
So vampires are blacks, right? Well, no, not really. Vampires themselves are many different races. And they used to be human and became vampires. So, again, it doesn’t quite fit.
The Christian couple running the religious group who hates vampires are portrayed as mentally retarded fundamentalists. They’re the butt of a lot of jokes. They’re super corny, paranoid, and insane.
So are the vampires just an opportunity to show how religious people are judgmental assholes,? All people are prejudiced. Vampires are gays, and blacks, and any other minority, all rolled into one. Is that it?
Where all these vampire metaphors fail is that being afraid of vampires isn’t prejudice - it’s self preservation. True Blood constantly shows good reasons to fear and hate vampires. They kill people. They feed off humans. Sure, they can drink synthetic blood, but over and over we see vampires say how disgusting that fake blood is, how they’d much rather feed off humans. Most vampires are immoral, if not downright evil. So it seems a little strange to be comparing them to gays and blacks.
It’s like the show is saying, “Don’t be racist! Don’t be homophobic! Don’t be vampirist! Even though they would all like to kill you and drink your blood.”
A bit of a mixed message there.
Sookie, our main character, is held up as our moral compass. She’s usually dressed in virginal white and is telling everyone what to think. But when Sookie delivers little speeches about how not all vampires are bad, and some humans kill too, it comes across as naive. It’s like she’s saying human beings can live in peace alongside hungry tigers.
Is the show using vampires to mock political correctness? “Oh, vampires are fine, and we can get along with them!” and we can’t?
Or maybe vampires are just a way to discuss the moral complexity and muddiness of the deep south, where racism, homophobia, and religious extremism all blur together into a huge mess. Is that it?
The more I ponder all of this, the more I am forced to come to one conclusion: “True Blood” doesn’t know what the hell it’s doing with vampires. It’s just making all this shit up as it goes along. There is no consistent metaphor. Looking for one is a waste of time.
While openly playing with these notions of religion, race, and homosexuality, the show itself is full of romance novel stereotypes that are painfully sexist. I hate Sookie. She's such a weak and wishy-washy romance novel female.
Vampire Bill does something Sookie doesn't like. She explodes into female hysteria:
"Y'all aren't tellin' me all your secrets, Bill. How can I trust you?"
And she runs away, indignant and pissed off. This happens so often, it gets to be a real pain.
“I love you, but I hate you, but I love you! I am a woman torn in two! Oh the humanity!”
Oh, just suck it up, Sookie, you big suck! Stay with the guy and work it out, instead of freaking out all the time. Quit being a joke.
Naturally there’s zero tension every time she runs off. We know she’s going back to Bill in four and a half seconds. And she does, over and over again -- all the way to the finale of season 2, where I wanted to strangle her for yet again putting me through another of her little emotional tantrums.
While Sookie is held up to be the moral compass, a lot of her morality is temporary and bizarre. For example:
"I can't trust you Bill, because you murdered the man who used to molest me."
And then ten minutes later she has forgiven him and is fucking him. Wow. She got over that killing pretty quick. You almost expect her to laugh and say:
“Remember when I was upset about you murdering that child molester? Oh, I’m such a silly and flighty girl!”
Sookie is a telepath. Throughout the show, she’s complaining about how she’s being bombarded with the secret, dark, negative thoughts people have. If people aren’t wanting to grab her ass, they’re thinking racist thoughts about her vampire boyfriend. Everyone is horrible and has their own secret hatred and agenda.
And yet somehow, drowning in all this negativity, Sookie is portrayed as a chipper, blonde, virginal, innocent, optimistic person, always smiling, always seeing the best in people. She loves her town and the people in it.
This contradiction doesn’t give her depth - it makes her annoying as hell. Shouldn’t she actively despise the people around her? Shouldn’t she be suspicious of everyone? I suppose the idea is that she’s supposed to feel a tenderness towards humanity, because she understands their weaknesses. We’re all flawed, both humans and vampires.
Instead, Sookie just comes across as stupid. She has access to all this information, but none of it stays in her brain. How could she be so idiotic?
Yes, Sookie can't read vampires minds, but how could anyone be this stupid?
Jessica: "I am a new vampire and I want to go see my family just one last time. I promise not to leave the car or interact with them in any way."
Sookie: "Okay, you talked me into it. But we can't tell Bill about this."
First of all, she believes this crap Jessica is spewing? And second, not tell Bill? Is this the same person who was just gave Bill shit for not telling her everything?
While Sookie is annoying, so are a lot of the other characters. Tara is the sassy black friend stereotype. That would be annoying enough in itself, if Tara wasn’t fun to watch. She regularly belittles and mocks people in a fun way. Throughout season 1, she’s brash, opinionated, and cruel. Awesome.
Then season 2 starts, and she’s a retard.
"Hi! I'm some strange lady named Maryanne that you don't know. Come live with me in my mansion and I will give you fruit and set you up with some black guy."
“Okay! Sounds awesome!”
Later, Tara says to Sookie, "I have to ask you -- is this whole living in a mansion and having myself pampered this way just all too good to be true?"
Ya think? What happened to the super suspicious Tara character who used to push away everyone who tried to help her?
It doesn’t matter that Maryanne is some charming supernatural being. Tara’s character instantly changes, without explanation or any nod to indicate a change. This makes her about-face annoying and painful.
The show is rife with other inconsistencies. Vampire blood, or V, is a drug. Later, we discover that if you drink it, you fall in love with the vampire you got it from. This is a little odd, because throughout season 1, there was no such effect at all. People were selling V, using V, buying V, and there was no mention of love. It was all about the high.
If you murder a vampire, drain all their blood, and then take the V as a drug, wouldn’t you feel guilty for killing someone you now love?
But really, who cares about all the flaws in this stupid TV show? As I rant, I feel like I’m complaining I can’t live inside a house built out of Lego. True Blood is, at heart, a stupid soap opera. It shouldn’t be taken too seriously. Every episode ends with a cliff-hanger to keep you watching. Over and over again, I found myself saying:
“That’s it! I’m never watching another episode. This show is mindless! Oh, hell, what happens next? Just one more episode.”
There are tons of illogical plot turns, inconsistent characters, and vampire rules that vary from show to show. None of that is really important. “True Blood” is a big messy sprawl, meant to be enjoyed on an emotional, animal level. And if you treat it that way, it’s great fun.
All the same, my intellect insists on noting all the huge holes in plot and character. I think that’s because the show pretends to be intelligent - all this talk of racism, homophobia, and religion. These are big, weighty issues. You’d think they’d give the show depth, but really, the issues are treated so very lightly, almost jokingly. They're for colour. Treating them that way is both brave and kind of bizarre.
Maybe I should only watch the show while drunk or high. If I turn my brain off and ignore my pain, I’ll have a lot of fun.
It’s interesting to note the TV show is based on a series of novels. Maybe the books make more sense, and have more depth. Somehow, I doubt it. I'm guessing they're girly romance novels with vampires. Still, I might check them out, just to make sure.
The main premise is that vampires have come out of hiding and are now mainstream. They can do this thanks to a new synthetic blood on the market called “True Blood”, available at your local convenience store. It’s never really explained why the vampires went public. Almost all of the vampires on “True Blood” are constantly complaining about being out in the open and what a stupid idea it was.
Except vampire Bill -- one of the main characters - he seems to thinking vampires going public is great. Mind you, he never really says why either. This is all very irritating.
True Blood seems to be using the vampire as a metaphor for something. But what, exactly? There are Christian groups that hate vampires, and one of the opening shots in the credits shows a sign that reads “GOD HATES FANGS” - mimicking the Westboro Baptist Church slogan “God Hates Fags”. It’s good for a laugh, but what does it mean? They also use the line that vampires have “come out of the coffin”, again making a parallel to coming out of the closet. And some states are legalizing human to vampire marriages, while others are not.
So vampires are queer, right? Well, no. Vampire Bill is in love with Sookie. He’s not gay. Many vampires seem willing to screw just about anyone. And there are gay vampires and straight vampires. So the metaphor doesn’t quite fit.
There are some scenes that imply that hating vampires is racist. Sookie and Tara talk about vampires at one point. Tara is black, and Sookie chastises her, thinking Tara should know better, having faced racism herself.
So vampires are blacks, right? Well, no, not really. Vampires themselves are many different races. And they used to be human and became vampires. So, again, it doesn’t quite fit.
The Christian couple running the religious group who hates vampires are portrayed as mentally retarded fundamentalists. They’re the butt of a lot of jokes. They’re super corny, paranoid, and insane.
So are the vampires just an opportunity to show how religious people are judgmental assholes,? All people are prejudiced. Vampires are gays, and blacks, and any other minority, all rolled into one. Is that it?
Where all these vampire metaphors fail is that being afraid of vampires isn’t prejudice - it’s self preservation. True Blood constantly shows good reasons to fear and hate vampires. They kill people. They feed off humans. Sure, they can drink synthetic blood, but over and over we see vampires say how disgusting that fake blood is, how they’d much rather feed off humans. Most vampires are immoral, if not downright evil. So it seems a little strange to be comparing them to gays and blacks.
It’s like the show is saying, “Don’t be racist! Don’t be homophobic! Don’t be vampirist! Even though they would all like to kill you and drink your blood.”
A bit of a mixed message there.
Sookie, our main character, is held up as our moral compass. She’s usually dressed in virginal white and is telling everyone what to think. But when Sookie delivers little speeches about how not all vampires are bad, and some humans kill too, it comes across as naive. It’s like she’s saying human beings can live in peace alongside hungry tigers.
Is the show using vampires to mock political correctness? “Oh, vampires are fine, and we can get along with them!” and we can’t?
Or maybe vampires are just a way to discuss the moral complexity and muddiness of the deep south, where racism, homophobia, and religious extremism all blur together into a huge mess. Is that it?
The more I ponder all of this, the more I am forced to come to one conclusion: “True Blood” doesn’t know what the hell it’s doing with vampires. It’s just making all this shit up as it goes along. There is no consistent metaphor. Looking for one is a waste of time.
While openly playing with these notions of religion, race, and homosexuality, the show itself is full of romance novel stereotypes that are painfully sexist. I hate Sookie. She's such a weak and wishy-washy romance novel female.
Vampire Bill does something Sookie doesn't like. She explodes into female hysteria:
"Y'all aren't tellin' me all your secrets, Bill. How can I trust you?"
And she runs away, indignant and pissed off. This happens so often, it gets to be a real pain.
“I love you, but I hate you, but I love you! I am a woman torn in two! Oh the humanity!”
Oh, just suck it up, Sookie, you big suck! Stay with the guy and work it out, instead of freaking out all the time. Quit being a joke.
Naturally there’s zero tension every time she runs off. We know she’s going back to Bill in four and a half seconds. And she does, over and over again -- all the way to the finale of season 2, where I wanted to strangle her for yet again putting me through another of her little emotional tantrums.
While Sookie is held up to be the moral compass, a lot of her morality is temporary and bizarre. For example:
"I can't trust you Bill, because you murdered the man who used to molest me."
And then ten minutes later she has forgiven him and is fucking him. Wow. She got over that killing pretty quick. You almost expect her to laugh and say:
“Remember when I was upset about you murdering that child molester? Oh, I’m such a silly and flighty girl!”
Sookie is a telepath. Throughout the show, she’s complaining about how she’s being bombarded with the secret, dark, negative thoughts people have. If people aren’t wanting to grab her ass, they’re thinking racist thoughts about her vampire boyfriend. Everyone is horrible and has their own secret hatred and agenda.
And yet somehow, drowning in all this negativity, Sookie is portrayed as a chipper, blonde, virginal, innocent, optimistic person, always smiling, always seeing the best in people. She loves her town and the people in it.
This contradiction doesn’t give her depth - it makes her annoying as hell. Shouldn’t she actively despise the people around her? Shouldn’t she be suspicious of everyone? I suppose the idea is that she’s supposed to feel a tenderness towards humanity, because she understands their weaknesses. We’re all flawed, both humans and vampires.
Instead, Sookie just comes across as stupid. She has access to all this information, but none of it stays in her brain. How could she be so idiotic?
Yes, Sookie can't read vampires minds, but how could anyone be this stupid?
Jessica: "I am a new vampire and I want to go see my family just one last time. I promise not to leave the car or interact with them in any way."
Sookie: "Okay, you talked me into it. But we can't tell Bill about this."
First of all, she believes this crap Jessica is spewing? And second, not tell Bill? Is this the same person who was just gave Bill shit for not telling her everything?
While Sookie is annoying, so are a lot of the other characters. Tara is the sassy black friend stereotype. That would be annoying enough in itself, if Tara wasn’t fun to watch. She regularly belittles and mocks people in a fun way. Throughout season 1, she’s brash, opinionated, and cruel. Awesome.
Then season 2 starts, and she’s a retard.
"Hi! I'm some strange lady named Maryanne that you don't know. Come live with me in my mansion and I will give you fruit and set you up with some black guy."
“Okay! Sounds awesome!”
Later, Tara says to Sookie, "I have to ask you -- is this whole living in a mansion and having myself pampered this way just all too good to be true?"
Ya think? What happened to the super suspicious Tara character who used to push away everyone who tried to help her?
It doesn’t matter that Maryanne is some charming supernatural being. Tara’s character instantly changes, without explanation or any nod to indicate a change. This makes her about-face annoying and painful.
The show is rife with other inconsistencies. Vampire blood, or V, is a drug. Later, we discover that if you drink it, you fall in love with the vampire you got it from. This is a little odd, because throughout season 1, there was no such effect at all. People were selling V, using V, buying V, and there was no mention of love. It was all about the high.
If you murder a vampire, drain all their blood, and then take the V as a drug, wouldn’t you feel guilty for killing someone you now love?
But really, who cares about all the flaws in this stupid TV show? As I rant, I feel like I’m complaining I can’t live inside a house built out of Lego. True Blood is, at heart, a stupid soap opera. It shouldn’t be taken too seriously. Every episode ends with a cliff-hanger to keep you watching. Over and over again, I found myself saying:
“That’s it! I’m never watching another episode. This show is mindless! Oh, hell, what happens next? Just one more episode.”
There are tons of illogical plot turns, inconsistent characters, and vampire rules that vary from show to show. None of that is really important. “True Blood” is a big messy sprawl, meant to be enjoyed on an emotional, animal level. And if you treat it that way, it’s great fun.
All the same, my intellect insists on noting all the huge holes in plot and character. I think that’s because the show pretends to be intelligent - all this talk of racism, homophobia, and religion. These are big, weighty issues. You’d think they’d give the show depth, but really, the issues are treated so very lightly, almost jokingly. They're for colour. Treating them that way is both brave and kind of bizarre.
Maybe I should only watch the show while drunk or high. If I turn my brain off and ignore my pain, I’ll have a lot of fun.
It’s interesting to note the TV show is based on a series of novels. Maybe the books make more sense, and have more depth. Somehow, I doubt it. I'm guessing they're girly romance novels with vampires. Still, I might check them out, just to make sure.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Election? What Election?
I love politics. Specifically, I love the theatre of politics. And the latest twist and turns are complicated and hilarious, better than any daytime soap opera. Look at these characters and the alliances they make!
Get this -- Iggy suddenly wants an election. He says the Liberals can no longer support the Conservatives. Why? They just can't, is all.
The timing is bizarre. Seemingly no one else on the planet wants an election, except Ig.
Mind you, the way the Liberals say it is, "No one wants an election -- but Harper has forced our hand, so we have no choice."
Which sounds like a load of crap. If the Liberals are pushing for an election, it's obviously because they WANT an election. Saying Harper is the one responsible is like the bully grabbing the nerd's hand, and making the guy punch himself in the face.
"Stop hitting yourself! Stop hitting yourself!"
Iggy, you're hitting Stevie. Just admit it.
Ignatieff says that Harper has to be booted out of power because he does not work well with others. Harper runs his minority government like it has a majority. Harper needs to be stopped.
So what delicious irony that Ignatieff apparently didn't consult with the NDP, to make sure they were on board to bring the Conservatives down.
Iggy, remind me again, who doesn't work well with others? You didn't cement some sort of deal with the NDP before throwing your gauntlet into the dirt? Seriously?
The NDP, chronic Conservative haters, have softened a little. That's because all of a sudden the Conservatives are proposing changes to Employment Insurance, to help those harmed by the economic downturn. This is a sweet, sweet bit of candy for the pseudo-socialist NDP. There's nothing the NDP loves more than helping the poor -- except maybe hemp.
So now the NDP are hinting that they might support the Conservatives, at least for a little while. After all, no one wants an election, right?
Especially not the NDP, who are broke, in debt, and totally unprepared for yet another election. But I'm sure that's just a coincidence.
By the way, isn't it funny how you can sometimes hear the polling in the voices of politicians? Suddenly all three parties appear to be saying the same three phrases:
1. "WE DO NOT WANT AN ELECTION."
2. "WE DO NOT WANT A COALITION."
3. "THERE WILL BE NO BACK ROOM DEALS."
I loved it when Ignatieff said he didn't want a coalition. Screw that! In no uncertain terms, it will not happen. But, you know, he's totally willing to work with the other parties. But there will be no back room deals!
Which, to my finely tuned ear, sounds like he doesn't want a coalition, but he does want a coalition, but he doesn't want a coalition. Only a gifted speaker like Ignatieff can say three contradictory things in one breath.
So the NDP aren't on Iggy's side because they love poor people so much. Needless to say, Iggy is pissed. This whole election-he-doesn't-want-but-must-have scheme is blowing up in his face.
Which is what inspired Iggy to ask the PM if he has "newfound love for socialism and does he not think it's prudent to change his attack ads"?
Because Harper has been muttering comments about refusing to form a coalition government with "socialists" and "separatists".
Harper responded to Ignatief by basically saying (paraphrased):
"Hey, dickface. You're the one who wanted an election. No one else in Canada wants it. We're acting to stop having an election. And look -- we might be working well with others! Mainly, the NDP. Isn't that what you wanted? Huh? Huh, tough guy?"
Suddenly the nerdy little Conservative has stood up and hoofed the Liberal in the gonads.
All of this is very bad for Ignatieff. It leaves him looking like the whiny, power mad little goon the Conservatives have said he is. Ignatieff really does look like the dude who came up from the States to try to run Canada for a little while, who got impatient and pushed for an election no one wants, way too soon.
"I want to rule now, Now, NOW! You said I'd get to be Prime Minister if I came back to this god forsaken country! HURRY UP!"
So the NDP are getting in bed with the Conservatives again. This is good, in the sense that the NDP might get some legislation they like passed. But in the long run, it's very hurtful to their standing. The NDP and the Conservatives are polar opposites. And every time a little NDP guy with a funny moustache gets in bed with a big Conservative guy in a sweater vest, it makes the little NDP guy look bad.
"Can you believe Layton is sleeping with that? What is Harper paying him? And in public too!"
And thus the NDP look like whores, the Conservatives look like masterful pimps, and the Liberals look like peeping toms, peering through the window, watching other people have sex.
But really, the big downside to all of this is I am not going to get an election to play with. Every time I hear there's going to be another election, I start salivating.
"Of course, no one wants an election right now," say the pundits of the CBC.
Which makes me yell at the radio, "I do! I do! Give me an election! I want to see what new Conservative creature dares run for Ottawa Centre!"
I guess I'll just have to wait a little while longer, gosh darn it.
Get this -- Iggy suddenly wants an election. He says the Liberals can no longer support the Conservatives. Why? They just can't, is all.
The timing is bizarre. Seemingly no one else on the planet wants an election, except Ig.
Mind you, the way the Liberals say it is, "No one wants an election -- but Harper has forced our hand, so we have no choice."
Which sounds like a load of crap. If the Liberals are pushing for an election, it's obviously because they WANT an election. Saying Harper is the one responsible is like the bully grabbing the nerd's hand, and making the guy punch himself in the face.
"Stop hitting yourself! Stop hitting yourself!"
Iggy, you're hitting Stevie. Just admit it.
Ignatieff says that Harper has to be booted out of power because he does not work well with others. Harper runs his minority government like it has a majority. Harper needs to be stopped.
So what delicious irony that Ignatieff apparently didn't consult with the NDP, to make sure they were on board to bring the Conservatives down.
Iggy, remind me again, who doesn't work well with others? You didn't cement some sort of deal with the NDP before throwing your gauntlet into the dirt? Seriously?
The NDP, chronic Conservative haters, have softened a little. That's because all of a sudden the Conservatives are proposing changes to Employment Insurance, to help those harmed by the economic downturn. This is a sweet, sweet bit of candy for the pseudo-socialist NDP. There's nothing the NDP loves more than helping the poor -- except maybe hemp.
So now the NDP are hinting that they might support the Conservatives, at least for a little while. After all, no one wants an election, right?
Especially not the NDP, who are broke, in debt, and totally unprepared for yet another election. But I'm sure that's just a coincidence.
By the way, isn't it funny how you can sometimes hear the polling in the voices of politicians? Suddenly all three parties appear to be saying the same three phrases:
1. "WE DO NOT WANT AN ELECTION."
2. "WE DO NOT WANT A COALITION."
3. "THERE WILL BE NO BACK ROOM DEALS."
I loved it when Ignatieff said he didn't want a coalition. Screw that! In no uncertain terms, it will not happen. But, you know, he's totally willing to work with the other parties. But there will be no back room deals!
Which, to my finely tuned ear, sounds like he doesn't want a coalition, but he does want a coalition, but he doesn't want a coalition. Only a gifted speaker like Ignatieff can say three contradictory things in one breath.
So the NDP aren't on Iggy's side because they love poor people so much. Needless to say, Iggy is pissed. This whole election-he-doesn't-want-but-must-have scheme is blowing up in his face.
Which is what inspired Iggy to ask the PM if he has "newfound love for socialism and does he not think it's prudent to change his attack ads"?
Because Harper has been muttering comments about refusing to form a coalition government with "socialists" and "separatists".
Harper responded to Ignatief by basically saying (paraphrased):
"Hey, dickface. You're the one who wanted an election. No one else in Canada wants it. We're acting to stop having an election. And look -- we might be working well with others! Mainly, the NDP. Isn't that what you wanted? Huh? Huh, tough guy?"
Suddenly the nerdy little Conservative has stood up and hoofed the Liberal in the gonads.
All of this is very bad for Ignatieff. It leaves him looking like the whiny, power mad little goon the Conservatives have said he is. Ignatieff really does look like the dude who came up from the States to try to run Canada for a little while, who got impatient and pushed for an election no one wants, way too soon.
"I want to rule now, Now, NOW! You said I'd get to be Prime Minister if I came back to this god forsaken country! HURRY UP!"
So the NDP are getting in bed with the Conservatives again. This is good, in the sense that the NDP might get some legislation they like passed. But in the long run, it's very hurtful to their standing. The NDP and the Conservatives are polar opposites. And every time a little NDP guy with a funny moustache gets in bed with a big Conservative guy in a sweater vest, it makes the little NDP guy look bad.
"Can you believe Layton is sleeping with that? What is Harper paying him? And in public too!"
And thus the NDP look like whores, the Conservatives look like masterful pimps, and the Liberals look like peeping toms, peering through the window, watching other people have sex.
But really, the big downside to all of this is I am not going to get an election to play with. Every time I hear there's going to be another election, I start salivating.
"Of course, no one wants an election right now," say the pundits of the CBC.
Which makes me yell at the radio, "I do! I do! Give me an election! I want to see what new Conservative creature dares run for Ottawa Centre!"
I guess I'll just have to wait a little while longer, gosh darn it.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Thomas Pynchon's Inherent Vice
Never before have I read 272 pages of a book, and then said to myself, forget it, I give up. I'm lost and I don't care to find my way. Fuck this. 90 pages left, and I just can't be bothered.
"Inherent Vice" is boring, complicated, messy, with occasional funny moments. But overall, it feels like a bad version of "The Maltese Falcon" set in the 60s, written by someone who loves the 60s, and doesn't realize it's now 2009.
Pynchon sucks. Fuck you, Pynchon.
Evidently some reviewers are saying it's a whole new genre -- "psychedelic noir". Others say it's Pynchon's most accessible book yet.
Really? Every page throws a new character at me. I lost track of them all almost immediately. The main character, Doc, is a private detective, and he gets hired three times for three intertwining cases. The plot is so pot-clouded it's impossible to follow.
A man named Mickey is kidnapped -- or was he? His wife is having an affair. But Mickey was having an affair too. The mistress loves him -- or does she? Some guitarist faked his death. His wife suspects he's still alive. The dead guitarist wants to know how his wife is doing. Bigfoot, the cop who always hassles Doc -- is he an ally or an enemy?
None of the characters are even remotely interesting. Pynchon hardly even bothers to give them life. They're a funny name with some exposition and they're gone. They'll be back in 20 pages and you won't remember them at all.
Here's an example: Doc is in lust with an old flame named Shasta, but we never really know why. We get a cursory physical description of the woman, and nothing else. There's some talk of how Doc feels -- he wants to fuck her -- but Shasta is a chess piece in the story. And all the characters feel that way. They're all pieces moving on a board, and for what? What is the overall purpose of this story? What is going on?
Pynchon skims the surface, occasionally throwing in a comical riff on Charlie the Tuna, or going into detail about a 60s vampire soap opera called "Dark Shadows". Some of this colour was enough to keep me reading. I kept hoping for another one of these asides to pull me in. I enjoyed those.
After a while, I realized I was more interested in the asides than the story. Then the asides stopped, and all I had was a dull, garbled detective story.
This book feels like it was written by someone stoned. I tried to read it that way -- forget the details and just flow with it. Don't overthink it, just ride it. That didn't work. Pynchon can't seem to decide if the plot is important or not, and the shifting focus ruins the book.
Evidently the boomers are eating it up. Or at least the baby boomer critics are. To disrespect Pynchon is to disrespect a brother baby boomer that got called a genius while everyone was stoned. Now the boomers are older, mostly sober, and have to pretend they understand Pynchon to stay hip.
And boomers have always irritated me.
"The 60s man! You should have been there! We stopped a war! The sex, the drugs, the free love."
It's hard to take all that shit seriously when the world continues to be a boot stomping a face, forever. Oh sure, race relations, feminism, and some other things came out of that era. Great. Thanks for that, gramps.
But we still had George W. Bush in the White House. And right now half of America is insanely calling socialized medicine a government plot to destroy freedom. Isn't socialized medicine something you boomers desperately wanted? Couldn't you have created a world where it would be greeted with joy, and not suspicion? How did you fuck things up so badly, where people helping each other is perceived as some kind of government plot equivalent to the nazis?
The real thing, that makes me lose it, is the 60s nostalgia -- the music! Oh man, the music and the drugs and the blah, blah, blah. Pynchon uncritically stuffs his book with 60s nostalgia. Hippies playing dodge 'em with the cops. Everyone smoking pot. Surf boards and folk music and psychedelic music and so on. It's entirely uncritical and worshipful.
A reviewer for Rolling Stone praises all the musical references, saying they turned him on to several new (old) bands. That's great -- if you give a rat's ass for old 1960s music. You know, instead of wanting to read a novel.
The book is dense, complex, frustrating, and annoying.
I say again, fuck you, Pynchon. You're old. And strangely, your book makes me feel very young. Which is weird, because I'm nearly 40.
"Inherent Vice" is boring, complicated, messy, with occasional funny moments. But overall, it feels like a bad version of "The Maltese Falcon" set in the 60s, written by someone who loves the 60s, and doesn't realize it's now 2009.
Pynchon sucks. Fuck you, Pynchon.
Evidently some reviewers are saying it's a whole new genre -- "psychedelic noir". Others say it's Pynchon's most accessible book yet.
Really? Every page throws a new character at me. I lost track of them all almost immediately. The main character, Doc, is a private detective, and he gets hired three times for three intertwining cases. The plot is so pot-clouded it's impossible to follow.
A man named Mickey is kidnapped -- or was he? His wife is having an affair. But Mickey was having an affair too. The mistress loves him -- or does she? Some guitarist faked his death. His wife suspects he's still alive. The dead guitarist wants to know how his wife is doing. Bigfoot, the cop who always hassles Doc -- is he an ally or an enemy?
None of the characters are even remotely interesting. Pynchon hardly even bothers to give them life. They're a funny name with some exposition and they're gone. They'll be back in 20 pages and you won't remember them at all.
Here's an example: Doc is in lust with an old flame named Shasta, but we never really know why. We get a cursory physical description of the woman, and nothing else. There's some talk of how Doc feels -- he wants to fuck her -- but Shasta is a chess piece in the story. And all the characters feel that way. They're all pieces moving on a board, and for what? What is the overall purpose of this story? What is going on?
Pynchon skims the surface, occasionally throwing in a comical riff on Charlie the Tuna, or going into detail about a 60s vampire soap opera called "Dark Shadows". Some of this colour was enough to keep me reading. I kept hoping for another one of these asides to pull me in. I enjoyed those.
After a while, I realized I was more interested in the asides than the story. Then the asides stopped, and all I had was a dull, garbled detective story.
This book feels like it was written by someone stoned. I tried to read it that way -- forget the details and just flow with it. Don't overthink it, just ride it. That didn't work. Pynchon can't seem to decide if the plot is important or not, and the shifting focus ruins the book.
Evidently the boomers are eating it up. Or at least the baby boomer critics are. To disrespect Pynchon is to disrespect a brother baby boomer that got called a genius while everyone was stoned. Now the boomers are older, mostly sober, and have to pretend they understand Pynchon to stay hip.
And boomers have always irritated me.
"The 60s man! You should have been there! We stopped a war! The sex, the drugs, the free love."
It's hard to take all that shit seriously when the world continues to be a boot stomping a face, forever. Oh sure, race relations, feminism, and some other things came out of that era. Great. Thanks for that, gramps.
But we still had George W. Bush in the White House. And right now half of America is insanely calling socialized medicine a government plot to destroy freedom. Isn't socialized medicine something you boomers desperately wanted? Couldn't you have created a world where it would be greeted with joy, and not suspicion? How did you fuck things up so badly, where people helping each other is perceived as some kind of government plot equivalent to the nazis?
The real thing, that makes me lose it, is the 60s nostalgia -- the music! Oh man, the music and the drugs and the blah, blah, blah. Pynchon uncritically stuffs his book with 60s nostalgia. Hippies playing dodge 'em with the cops. Everyone smoking pot. Surf boards and folk music and psychedelic music and so on. It's entirely uncritical and worshipful.
A reviewer for Rolling Stone praises all the musical references, saying they turned him on to several new (old) bands. That's great -- if you give a rat's ass for old 1960s music. You know, instead of wanting to read a novel.
The book is dense, complex, frustrating, and annoying.
I say again, fuck you, Pynchon. You're old. And strangely, your book makes me feel very young. Which is weird, because I'm nearly 40.
Meanwhile, in the Insane Asylum
I don't know who reads me. Some of my friends do. One very perceptive alcoholic with a thing for turkeys once said, "He doesn't write for you -- he's writing for himself."
Which I guess is true, and explains all the inside jokes that only I get.
Oh, and this blog post automatically gets dumped on to my Facebook page. I should mention that for people who are reading this on facebook and are confused -- you're reading hand-me-downs from my blog.
All the same, I thought I should mention that there's another blog I'm contributing to -- The Sanitarium. It started off as a thing where some friends and I could interact and write crazy things. So far, it's mostly me writing crazy shit, Michelle posting photos, and other people able to jump in at any time. I'm trying to think of it as a place where I can just write crazy random shit without thinking about it too much.
Here, this blog, is where I think too much. I know that comes as a surprise. I'm surprised myself.
In other news, here is a twitter poem I wrote recently.
* * *
A chef taught me this truth:
Stick to recipes, don't substitute.
Cauliflower looks like human brain,
But they do not taste the same.
* * *
While other people use Twitter to write bland and meaningless things going on in their lives, I only provide high quality tweets. Not just poetry, but insightful commentary about the City of Ottawa. Like this one:
"While walking the dogs tonight, we saw a young man pooping into the bushes on a basketball court. And we talked to him and his friend. Yes."
Or this one:
"I hate bathrooms without mirrors. What if I get poop in my eyebrows?"
And that's why you should follow me on Twitter.
Or not. No pressure.
Which I guess is true, and explains all the inside jokes that only I get.
Oh, and this blog post automatically gets dumped on to my Facebook page. I should mention that for people who are reading this on facebook and are confused -- you're reading hand-me-downs from my blog.
All the same, I thought I should mention that there's another blog I'm contributing to -- The Sanitarium. It started off as a thing where some friends and I could interact and write crazy things. So far, it's mostly me writing crazy shit, Michelle posting photos, and other people able to jump in at any time. I'm trying to think of it as a place where I can just write crazy random shit without thinking about it too much.
Here, this blog, is where I think too much. I know that comes as a surprise. I'm surprised myself.
In other news, here is a twitter poem I wrote recently.
* * *
A chef taught me this truth:
Stick to recipes, don't substitute.
Cauliflower looks like human brain,
But they do not taste the same.
* * *
While other people use Twitter to write bland and meaningless things going on in their lives, I only provide high quality tweets. Not just poetry, but insightful commentary about the City of Ottawa. Like this one:
"While walking the dogs tonight, we saw a young man pooping into the bushes on a basketball court. And we talked to him and his friend. Yes."
Or this one:
"I hate bathrooms without mirrors. What if I get poop in my eyebrows?"
And that's why you should follow me on Twitter.
Or not. No pressure.
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