Human beings are beautiful when they are not speaking…

No, I don’t.

I had reached a point in my life where I was fine and content assuming that homo sapiens was a failed species, much like velociraptors and wooly mammoths. I figured that the only defining trait we had as a species, the one that had in ages long ago made us dominant, was the very one we had somehow (I didn’t get the memo) made up our minds to forfeit: rational thought. We had eschewed this gift of gifts. preferring tribal aggression, mammalian pack dominance games and mumbo-jumbo fairy-tale religion. The human race was doomed and I didn’t give a fuck, so long as you deluded monkeys managed to not scorch the earth completely til after I was gone.

Well, now I’m invested in the future of you silly earth-devouring termites (apologies to actual termites; I have never seen a termite mug or rape another termite or grovel before the statue of an imaginary termite god).

You see, I have a child on the way and I’d rather you all don’t devolve into self-immolation before he has the opportunity to live out his life too.

So I will continue to futilely harangue you bloodthirsty gullible retarded apes on the outside impossible chance that maybe one, fuck…just one of you wakes up and realizes your potential as a sentient being.

Tags: compassion, evolution, love, peace, rage

Weebles wobbled but they never fell down. Ever. It was a bit disconcerting.

Captain Kirk fucked a green chick and the Fonz could silence the birds, control the beasts of the forest like Pan.

Aging hippies reared adorable fascist wisecracking teenage breakout heartthrobs who taught us all how to believe again.

My innocence died when I heard the news. Alan Alda was pronounced dead from severe intracranial bleeding, a result of having been stabbed in the ear by a certain Stash Pavloski, unemployed ex-steelworker from Scranton, PA and amateur chess champion. Mr. Pavloski defended himself at trial but was forcibly removed after attempting to assassinate the presiding judge with his teeth. Bailiffs measured the distance from the defendant’s table to the judge’s bench…Pavloski had leaped 20 feet in a single bound, in manacles.

Yesterday, I removed a needle from my flesh that I had inadvertently inserted in 1995. The steel was unrusted, untarnished.

It gleamed.

Tags: ichor, intravenious, pop-culture, toxin

“Cool” in 2008…

Hmmm, let’s see..

I will forego even addressing the endlessly recycled potted meat abortion foodproduct McDysfunction-with-makeup travesty of modern emo/goth because, really, some things just mock themselves.

I will briefly address the Hipsters….first of all, in order to effectively utlize irony, one must first have been sincere at least once in one’s adult life. You can’t “stick it to the man” by drinking ironically bad beer all night and dancing ironically to music that you aren’t sure if you’re enjoying for its merits or not, passing out with an ironic sneer and then donning a gender-innapropriate T-shirt with ironically moronic slogan on your way to your fucking corporate IT job. You have proven nothing and you stand for nothing (irony fail). In order to “stick it to the man”, one must identify “the man”. Hint: he signs your paycheck.

Moving on…

Mainstream ‘08 pop culture “cool”. Where to start….

First of all, it’s really not your fault. In the late 60s, 7-Up had a commercial featuring a lysergic butterfly nymph metaphorically injecting potent corporo-venom into the carcass of hippie culture in order to paralyze the festering corpse of Haight-Stock before laying her eggs of voracious larval consumership. Since that defining moment, corporate America has effectively anticipated, distilled and marketed every “counterculture” movement in the last 40 years (there were 5 minutes in 1976 when the Punk movement was spontaneous, pure and real).

Our corporate overlords used to have the courtesy to at least camouflage their marketing propaganda subtley in music videos and Spin magazine photo spreads (turning Dickies, Docs and Chucks into global sweatshop 3rd World crushing sensations)

Now, in ‘08, they have abandoned all attempts at subterfuge, blatantly hawking their overpriced wares with the enthusiastic support of asspuppet shill-barkers like Fergie and Kanye, who actually mention their products BY NAME in their songs.

…and you blindly buy their crap, you gullible little rube.

Fuck, Jesse McCartney (Keith Partridge v 2.0) has a song crowing about his G5 airplane (in the same song, he explains to his love interest that his financial assets should be adequate grounds to dump her boyfriend and join him in what is presumably a stratospheric wonderland of unreasonably priced booze, XBox 360s on a plasma screen and and bottles-upon-bottles of sweet oxycontin oblivion)! If a private jet and blind, predatory consumerism is “cool”, then Dick Cheney is the coolest thing walking.

Tags: cool, fergie, futile, hipster, irrelevant, kanye-west, marketing, product-placement, punk

Don’t feel bad. The last person universally recognized as being cool was probably Miles Davis.

..so your pitiful, (coff!)counterculture, (snicker!)underground, hipster, sheitgeist, fadclown, trendbitch attempts at relevance can be excused because, let’s be honest, if you were put in the same room with Miles Davis, you’d probably blindly and vainly grope for your inhaler before melting into a volcanic pool of your own pantpudding.

You’ll never be cool.

Face it.

I am here to help you.

When you are ready.

Tags: cool, fail, hipster, lame, miles-davis, music, pathetic, weak