Here are the new rules of politically correct terms. (You can call Michael Stipe queer but not gay. And you should still try to avoid cunt, although “it’s gaining currency among young lesbians.”)
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Howard K. Stern: The Nose
The sight of Howard K. Stern makes me sick with rage, kind of like George W. Bush. Howard K. Stern strikes me as a venal sociopath without any redeeming qualities. Every word he says is a lie, including and and the, to paraphrase Mary Mc Carthy speaking of Lillian Hellman.
But I’m wondering how much of my reaction to Stern is based on his nose. That nose is so offensive. It’s unbearable. If he and Larry Birkhead switched noses, I might feel differently. I’ll never know, unless someone is nice enough to photoshop them for me.
Posted in Celebrities, News
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Celebrity Meltdowns
Nothing could have distracted me from the Anna Nicole Smith drama except this frightening picture of Britney Spears, revealing a woman in the throes of a nervous breakdown. I can’t watch, but I can’t look away.
If Taxi Driver is anything to go by, Britney is on the verge of a murderous rampage. I’m very worried, and I need this to be resolved so I can get back to Anna.
Posted in Celebrities, Disorders, Horrible Stuff, News, Uncategorized
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The Secret and Me
Forgive me for being behind the curve, but now that I’ve heard about “The Secret,” I am bursting with excitement, not to mention negative energy. The Secret has been revealed even to those of us who didn’t buy the book or DVD! The Secret to fulfilling all your desires is “The Law of Attraction,” which has been interpreted to mean “Like attracts like.”
Does everyone know this already? If so, why wasn’t I informed? Maybe it’s because I’m sending out too much negativity into the universe. Shit. At this point, I don’t think I can change. It’s just the way I roll. Around 20 years ago, someone tried to fix me up with an eligible single man, a surgeon or something. During our first and only phone conversation, he said to me: “I’m sensing a lot of negative energy from you.” I laughed somewhat maniacally and said, “Let’s stop right now, we already can’t stand each other!”
According to The Secret, you can change your life by matching the vibrational energy of your desires. If you follow these principals, you can start to “manifest” your desires to achieve a joyous life of prosperity, which is your birthright!
I love the word “manifest” more than I can possibly express. It has brought me bushels of joy today, even though it has irritated my husband. I guess I have been putting out positive energy without even knowing it!
I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but I’m thinking that people who buy into this Secret business are too stupid to deserve any sympathy. What leads human beings to look for a Secret? What accounts for their belief that there is one Secret of Existence, and it’s really easy? Looking into this crap has led me to read about Gnosticism and Rosicrucians, dubious belief systems that at least involved morality. Maybe that’s the key difference in New Age beliefs about self-actualization. You don’t have to do anything good; you just have to cultivate positive energy and wish hard, like Wendy in Peter Pan.
I think we know what this says about all the world’s poverty and suffering. People in Africa are really, really negative. I am, too, but I am nonetheless hoping to manifest a new pair of wide-leg jeans and if I don’t lose my job, maybe even a new car!
Posted in Religion, Words
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Grammys 2007 Exegesis
The Grammys show just gets worse, along with the state of popular music. But let’s review it anyway.
Most Sickening on Every Level: Sting. God, just the sight of him was stomach-turning. Ugh! You’re old now, Sting! Cover your arms, get a hair transplant, and don’t aim for those high notes!
Most sickening on only a couple of levels: John Mayer. What’s with that guy’s face? Is he doing it on purpose? And what about that fake bluesman vocal?? Even if he went blind, I wouldn’t buy him as a bluesman. Although it would spare him the pain of looking at his girlfriend, Jessica Simpson.
Diva Overload: Mary J. Blige, Beonce, Carrie Underwood….can we stop the screaming already? Big voices and histrionics aren’t all there is to singing. Subtlety, feeling, individuality, those qualities seem to have been extinguished entirely by the American Idol school of performing. However, I’m excusing Christina Aguilera, just because she wears such great lipstick and is willing to get down on the floor to make her point.
The Dixie Chicks: Fine, now the industry has made amends to them after being so mean about their George Bush statement. But they didn’t have the guts to use their new power to condemn Bush more forcefully, when they had the perfect opportunity. Pathetic. Let’s ban them again and burn their records.
James Blunt: Now that was funny! It was a perfect parody of a YouTube parody of a James Blunt parody.
Gnarls Barkley: Thank god for a guy who knows how to sing. What a great, powerful presence.
Justin Timberlake has piqued my interest, now that he’s a Mac Daddy. Just looking at him and wondering what makes him so attractive when he really isn’t, is a real turn on.
Finally, that girl who won the chance to sing with Justin turned out to be the one I voted for. By “voted,” I mean I screamed at the television: “I vote for number three!” Obviously, my vote is the one that counts, and I’m proud to have picked a winner.
Posted in Celebrities, News
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Word of the Day
ludic [loo-dik] adjective
playful in an aimless way. “the ludic behavior of kittens.”
It’s an icky word and I don’t like it, but I came across it in a description of an artist, Andreas Slominski, who is known for building traps.
Posted in Art, Words
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Hearing Voices
New on the Internet: a community of people who believe the government is beaming voices into their minds. They may be crazy, but the Pentagon has pursued a weapon that can do just that.
This is the heading of a fascinating article in the Washington Post titled “Mind Games.” Reporter Sharon Weinberger discusses the situation of alleged victims of government harrassment via high-tech devices that bombard their brains and bodies with symptoms that doctors dismiss as schizophrenia. Each victim has had some link to a government agency, however tenuous the encounter. Some of them seem otherwise very intelligent and insightful. They are all sensitive to accusations that they’re nuts.
Even more compelling than the article are the comments by readers who are somehow involved in this phenomenon. Some are extremely agitated and you might even say paranoid ( a word I hate to invoke, since it seems to trivialize their mental anguish.)
I’m inclined to doubt the notion of elaborate Government plots against civilians, but some of the evidence cited is intriguing. Here’s a site that details “Five Available Harrassment Technologies,” and includes links to other sinister evidence.
And here’s a site where you can buy a baseball hat lined in tin foil, just in case.
Exciting New Weight-Loss Product!
I came across this ad in a magazine and I was sold by this promise:
“Join forces with a complimentary toning lotion for a body that Micheal Angelo could’ve sculpted himself.”
It doesn’t get much better, does it?
Difficult Art, Brutalism and Probably Sushi
The Los Angeles Times has a weekly section called Home, where you can sometimes find a gem of a story, like the one they published yesterday. It featured the ugly four-story ‘home’ of a male couple who collect what they call ‘difficult art.’ I love learning new terms like this! A couple of weeks ago, I heard the phrase ‘honest furniture’ for the first time, and nearly fainted with joy.
Anyway, the art is difficult in that it’s big in size, sanctimoniously morbid in theme, and sort of downright awful in terms of the usual standards of aesthetics. There are garish paintings of young men being intimidated by Nazis, photos of the World Trade Center on fire, something about Little Black Sambo that “speaks to racism,” you know the drill by now. It’s Confrontational. It’s Emotionally Complex. It’s Difficult!
Owner Tim Campbell says “I would find it difficult to live with beautiful, pointless art.” How true, Tim. Why waste your money on that crap?
The house itself is in the Brutalist style. (“Brutalism describes a type of architecture that is profoundly honest and pure.” Blocky poured concrete, exposed joints and supports, you know, like a prison or a block of council flats in East Anglia) Campbell designed the house, which features a metal industrial staircase. He points out the grease pencil scribbles left by the construction crew, proudly noting that most people would get rid of that.
Campbell and his partner Steve Machado also collect 19th century Asian furniture and have two dogs named Jack and Chausette. I feel I know them in a really profoundly pure way. I feel they enjoy sushi. I feel they shop at Barneys and know a lot about wine, or maybe obscure brands of beer.
When the LA Times ran a similar piece about a guy named Blaine who collects ironic taxidermy and trays of old human teeth, I wondered if someone there made the whole thing up. My friend and I contacted the writer, who assured us Blaine was real. Even if Tim and Steve are made-up, I still love them!
Posted in Art
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Nan Kempner
Nan Kempner was a New York socialite famous for her vast collection of couture clothing and her delightful outspokenness, such as her pronouncement to Vanity Fair, “I loathe fat people!”
I remember reading about her in W, which chronicled her luncheons and charity events and famous friends. Spy magazine used to publish unflattering pictures of her, with hilariously insulting captions. She is said to be the inspiration for Tom Wolf’s descriptive term, “social x-ray.” As I google her now, I see that she was a living rebuttal to the adage: “You can’t be too rich or too thin.”
The Metropolitan Museum is currently hosting an exhibit of Nan Kempner’s clothing collection, celebrating her “cool elegance” and “iconic style.” There’s that word “iconic” again! Mrs. Kempner certainly knew how to spend money. She had 360 sweaters and 200 bikinis, along with couture gowns by all the usual designers of her era. She had a 14 room apartment where she could store her clothes, and she was renowned for her ability to make a plain white shirt look chic.
God, what bullshit! Could anyone get away with this now? Such waste and narcissism and obsessive consumerism just seems nuts, doesn’t it? However, if it turns out that this kind of shopping addiction is still considered some kind of accomplishment when I kick the bucket, I hope that my own lifetime of spending and hoarding will be honored with a similar tribute at the Met.
I would like people to wander around a huge exhibit of my red lipsticks, my cashmere sweaters, my glorious push-up bras, my boots, my leather jackets, handbags, vintage costume jewelry, my kitsch religious crap, my sneakers, my gold bangles, and last but not least, my hair products. The hair products alone probably represent close to $500 of wasted money.
Now I’ve gotten myself all excited about my exhibit! I’m going to have to start cataloguing everything. I can promise that I won’t be through before April, when the new leather jacket I just bought online is due to be shipped.
I kind of don’t like fat people either, now that I think about it.
Posted in Disorders, Fashion
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