Oh ho hohoho MAN — someone figured out how to get back into his blog, like a big kid! Jeez... it's been a few years, hasn't it? And waddaya know, no one cared. BUT but but but, neither do I — which keeps in the spirit of all this nonsense anyway. But as I read through these dated posts, I realize I left an open end... which not unlike a cohorts mother, should be properly shut until next time.
When I last found myself on this blog, I was on a tare regarding Tween 'stars'. My how far we have fallen in just two years time! And to think, Miley Cyrus was the worst thing they had to offer in 2009 (she wasn't, just one of ) — Brooke Hogan gets a big nod for giving Pete Griffin a run for his money in the "My Chin is Like a Ball-Sac" Category. On a higher note, I hear she did beat out Ru Paul for Most Convincing tranny. How proud the Hulk must be of his sons Nick and Brooke...
Ah, but how can we not admire the BOUNTY that 2011 has provided us? Justin Beiber. The cast of Jersey Shore. The Kardashians. The Jokenaus Brothers.
Currently, my engine is not firing on all it's cylinders from a seemingly endless work cycle. That said, I would like to take an abbreviated moment to line these pathetic figures up on an efficient firing squad. The atom bombs are constructed, Im just too tired to drop them. So for now...
Justin Bieber. Who and what army of mad scientists stapled a dick to this little bastard and put him on stage? Your non-pubesence is terrifying and seeing you try to act like a "playah" is as unsettling as teaching a 4 year old to hump the family dog. Knock it off.
The Jersey Shore cast. What can be said that hasn't been said already other than that these greasey neanderthals give a convincing argument for an Aldous Huxley society — that or the desire for a holocaust that targets Italians with IQs lower than moss.
The Kardashians and The Jonas Brothers. Families working together for their own financial gains, thankfully not having to rely on any real talent or marketable skill. Proof that all one must do in this life is blow the right person, or be seen blowing someone. In the case of the Kardashians, they were guilty of the latter — so much "leaked" amateur porn, it's a small wonder how they found time to clear their throats and promote themselves. And I know you're saying, hey man, The Joans Bros didn't blow anyone — theyre wholesome Disney icons. To that nay-saying lot, I offer this : you show me ANY Disney progeny that didn't kneel down and pay 'respect' to ol' frosty Walt secretarialy, and I'll show you a kid with inexplicable frost bite on his lips.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Hobo Sandwich Fight
Like most of my rants that will be featured on here, they have the tendency to be a long time coming. What will follow has been on the burner for quite some time. I should also say that I have many burners, so many so in fact that French Bistro kitchens are shamed by how many stoves I have going... Though what’s interesting to point out about THIS particular rant is that I know that I am not alone in my disgust. This has been a plague upon our culture that evolves and mutates from decade to decade. I am speaking of course of the repulsive, lurking beast that is... Tween Pop stars.
Now before I launch into this, I think I should again point out that my hatred of these people, trends, etc, is NOT an original one. MANY have had reason to abhor the pop princes and princesses of their generation. This little bit is simply going to have my dash of flavor and panache.
So without further ado... put.me.in.charge.of. TWEEEEEEEEEEEENS!
Now I don’t really care about the Oscars. I love movies and I love the process of film making, but as far as how the award of said accomplishments go, It all seems a bit biased and just one big additional stroke job for already overblown egos. Anyways, having watched part of the Oscars several weeks ago, I could not help but notice that many tween ‘celebrities’ were in attendance. While the Oscars are not a sacred event to me, I will honor however that those on the red carpet should be celebrities — as in movie stars and actors working in ‘legitimate’ film. Tween stars have no business even showing their Clearisiled faces at these events... They did nothing to achieve spotlight and recognition at an event like this, whereas the other actors have done next to nothing to be there. No matter, the Zach Efrons(?) and the Vanessa Hudgens(?) have done nothing but be young and on camera. A major achievement in anyone’s book, no doubt. What becomes a very creepy reality is that these kids, because really that IS what they are, these kids are already plugged into the grinding sex-machine that is our entertainment industry.
By this I mean, you have 14 year old “actresses” with weight disorders, doing power cleanses on their eyeballs to keep the puffiness on their crows feet down, which was a product of that all night bender they had with Lindsay Lohan. And, as a general pop culture, we embrace them, as sex symbols no less. The direct bi-product of that is the influence upon their audience — which is even younger than they are. We have a nation of little girls, Im talking 8, 9 and 10, buying Hannah Montana Halloween costumes... DO YOU HEAR WHAT IM SAYING? A Hannah Montana Halloween costume... Which I should explain consists of glittered belly-shirt and hot pants, THAT’S IT. Essentially youre dressing your kid to look like a slut, a not talented-hack of a slut. Venomous sure, but the people who hock this crap know better. They know who their market is... And its just getting younger and younger. Teenagers have sex, that’s ubiquitous. Typically that’s in the upwards of 16,17, 18... Its not exactly right, but let us not be so naïve. However, these people in question, fall far below the line. They are targeting younger and younger kids, making a lifestyle of excess, ease and success without consequence or actual achievement, seem realistic. Let a kid be a kid for a few minutes... Fischer-Price makes toys for toddlers and young children, I don’t need a starter line of iCarly thongs for the PRE- grade 5 market.
But back to the real issue — these talentless tweens. And the first up, Miley Cyrus. Who like the Jessica and Ashley Simpson before her, is pimped by her father for fame, money, and a ludicrously sad reach for second-chance fame. I am speaking of course of her douche of a dad, Billy Ray. With his flat ironed, metro-calico look, that honestly makes me want get in a car accident rather than see him on a tabloid. It’s not enough he was terrible THEN, but he made some awful half-assed comeback via his DAUGHTER, on a show where, he is also STILL a rockstar... And speaking of her, let me continue. Miley Cyrus... This girl is terrifying. She looks as though someone tied a string on the inside of her skull, and when her face was put on it, they pulled the string super tight, so as to make her features pucker and bloat crowding around “America’s favorite button nose.” As if it wasn’t enough to look like an escapee from the island of Dr. Moreau’s Red Light district, she has to act and sing. I use those terms very liberally. Mainly because her voice sounds as if her vocal chords were replaced with those of a person who spent their life gargling hot sand and glue. Linda Blair didn’t make people this uneasy when she spoke in the Excorcist.
(to be continued)
Now before I launch into this, I think I should again point out that my hatred of these people, trends, etc, is NOT an original one. MANY have had reason to abhor the pop princes and princesses of their generation. This little bit is simply going to have my dash of flavor and panache.
So without further ado... put.me.in.charge.of. TWEEEEEEEEEEEENS!
Now I don’t really care about the Oscars. I love movies and I love the process of film making, but as far as how the award of said accomplishments go, It all seems a bit biased and just one big additional stroke job for already overblown egos. Anyways, having watched part of the Oscars several weeks ago, I could not help but notice that many tween ‘celebrities’ were in attendance. While the Oscars are not a sacred event to me, I will honor however that those on the red carpet should be celebrities — as in movie stars and actors working in ‘legitimate’ film. Tween stars have no business even showing their Clearisiled faces at these events... They did nothing to achieve spotlight and recognition at an event like this, whereas the other actors have done next to nothing to be there. No matter, the Zach Efrons(?) and the Vanessa Hudgens(?) have done nothing but be young and on camera. A major achievement in anyone’s book, no doubt. What becomes a very creepy reality is that these kids, because really that IS what they are, these kids are already plugged into the grinding sex-machine that is our entertainment industry.
By this I mean, you have 14 year old “actresses” with weight disorders, doing power cleanses on their eyeballs to keep the puffiness on their crows feet down, which was a product of that all night bender they had with Lindsay Lohan. And, as a general pop culture, we embrace them, as sex symbols no less. The direct bi-product of that is the influence upon their audience — which is even younger than they are. We have a nation of little girls, Im talking 8, 9 and 10, buying Hannah Montana Halloween costumes... DO YOU HEAR WHAT IM SAYING? A Hannah Montana Halloween costume... Which I should explain consists of glittered belly-shirt and hot pants, THAT’S IT. Essentially youre dressing your kid to look like a slut, a not talented-hack of a slut. Venomous sure, but the people who hock this crap know better. They know who their market is... And its just getting younger and younger. Teenagers have sex, that’s ubiquitous. Typically that’s in the upwards of 16,17, 18... Its not exactly right, but let us not be so naïve. However, these people in question, fall far below the line. They are targeting younger and younger kids, making a lifestyle of excess, ease and success without consequence or actual achievement, seem realistic. Let a kid be a kid for a few minutes... Fischer-Price makes toys for toddlers and young children, I don’t need a starter line of iCarly thongs for the PRE- grade 5 market.
But back to the real issue — these talentless tweens. And the first up, Miley Cyrus. Who like the Jessica and Ashley Simpson before her, is pimped by her father for fame, money, and a ludicrously sad reach for second-chance fame. I am speaking of course of her douche of a dad, Billy Ray. With his flat ironed, metro-calico look, that honestly makes me want get in a car accident rather than see him on a tabloid. It’s not enough he was terrible THEN, but he made some awful half-assed comeback via his DAUGHTER, on a show where, he is also STILL a rockstar... And speaking of her, let me continue. Miley Cyrus... This girl is terrifying. She looks as though someone tied a string on the inside of her skull, and when her face was put on it, they pulled the string super tight, so as to make her features pucker and bloat crowding around “America’s favorite button nose.” As if it wasn’t enough to look like an escapee from the island of Dr. Moreau’s Red Light district, she has to act and sing. I use those terms very liberally. Mainly because her voice sounds as if her vocal chords were replaced with those of a person who spent their life gargling hot sand and glue. Linda Blair didn’t make people this uneasy when she spoke in the Excorcist.
(to be continued)
Friday, January 16, 2009
Picking a Fight with Mother Nature
While I am sure more often than not I expose myself as being something of a fool, one usually misinformed. Yet it is still within the grand spirit of this blog for me to press on with a rant, this one rather timely. The time has come Cleveland, for me to address the weather here... and without further ado...
PUT ME IN CHARGE OF THE WEATHER IN CLEVELAND!!! (three exclamations)
This is an open call to the fierce deity of the wild, better known as Mother Nature. Who, for some reason, chooses annually to let fly with her most vicious of concoctions upon us, otherwise known as the Clevo-Winter. I need not regale you (Clevelander readers) with just how awful the manic depressive states of weather are, which include torrential snow and slush, lethal ice, interspersed pockets of 50 degrees, countered with temperatures so frigid, the frost on the inside of your wind shield spells out "Not a Chance Asshole" and more icicles than you could shake a frost-bitten stump at — all in one day.
People who fear the Apocalypse aren't concerned with weather shifts as an indicator because if they did, the 'end' would technically becoming twice a day in Cleveland. But yeah... you don't need me to tell you about that because you already know... so let's move on.
So with all disregard to science and logical explanation, which could in fact offer a sensible answer or reason to my gripe, I have to wonder just what the hell is going on here... I ask this because as any Clevelander can attest, we do in fact have more erratic weather than if a schizophrenic himself was conducting it. Matter of fact, Im pretty sure that visitors here have been known to endure weeks of paranoid fits and weight loss as a result of acclimating to our environmental surroundings. By contrast, people who have lived here their entire lives are too steeped in crazy from the weather that no one really notices. It's a level playing field of climate-induced mania with those that seem crazy just going above and beyond what equates us... I digress, and my apologies, this is not a blog about being crazy (...) This rant concerns Cleveland weather.
Aside from the fact that our weather has the reliability of an ill-tempered alzheimer's victim, my issue lies with its duration. Old Man winter is released from his time out by Mother Nature — which let's examine that for a second... Mother Nature. Mother to all, partnered with Father Earth? Presumably? So... they had a child? A crusty old man-child, a la Benjamin Button, known as Old Man Winter? This is my guess. BUT then that begs the question where is Baby Jane Spring? Sue-Svelt Summer? Finneus Fall? And the other seasonal figure heads I just bullshit my way through... Wheres that leave Jack Frost? Is he infact the horrible, inbred creature of Old Man Winter and Finneus Fall??? Who wrote this crap? It surely wasn't me.
ANYWAYS, apparently Mother Nature And Father Earth have about 4 really "challenged" kids, Old Man winter being the most cantankerous of them all, and evidently the most spoiled here in Cleveland. We see so much of him. He gets let out of his cage or child harness sometime in October. Now see, he's old, so it takes him a moment or two get truly riled up and going. At this point it's November and all the tantrum fury of his blustery, man-child wrath is laid upon us. And since he has the fervor of a delinquent youth in his old man veins, Old Man Winter cavorts wildly well into almost May. It is then, and only then, that again in old man fashion, for no apparent reason he quits the cold and falls asleep. Now the other three siblings get a shot to play. Basically they squabble over the remaining months of May — September. Which of course is plenty of time to span out the seasons of Spring Summer and Fall.
However, between the months of November and April, we lock down and play host to this lumbering bag of insanity Old Man winter opens on us... Much in the same way people carve pumpkins to ward off evil spirits, Clevelanders put out orange construction barrels before winter to ward him off... It is known throughout Clevelander lore that we have two seasons here, Orange Barrel and Winter.
PUT ME IN CHARGE OF THE WEATHER IN CLEVELAND!!! (three exclamations)
This is an open call to the fierce deity of the wild, better known as Mother Nature. Who, for some reason, chooses annually to let fly with her most vicious of concoctions upon us, otherwise known as the Clevo-Winter. I need not regale you (Clevelander readers) with just how awful the manic depressive states of weather are, which include torrential snow and slush, lethal ice, interspersed pockets of 50 degrees, countered with temperatures so frigid, the frost on the inside of your wind shield spells out "Not a Chance Asshole" and more icicles than you could shake a frost-bitten stump at — all in one day.
People who fear the Apocalypse aren't concerned with weather shifts as an indicator because if they did, the 'end' would technically becoming twice a day in Cleveland. But yeah... you don't need me to tell you about that because you already know... so let's move on.
So with all disregard to science and logical explanation, which could in fact offer a sensible answer or reason to my gripe, I have to wonder just what the hell is going on here... I ask this because as any Clevelander can attest, we do in fact have more erratic weather than if a schizophrenic himself was conducting it. Matter of fact, Im pretty sure that visitors here have been known to endure weeks of paranoid fits and weight loss as a result of acclimating to our environmental surroundings. By contrast, people who have lived here their entire lives are too steeped in crazy from the weather that no one really notices. It's a level playing field of climate-induced mania with those that seem crazy just going above and beyond what equates us... I digress, and my apologies, this is not a blog about being crazy (...) This rant concerns Cleveland weather.
Aside from the fact that our weather has the reliability of an ill-tempered alzheimer's victim, my issue lies with its duration. Old Man winter is released from his time out by Mother Nature — which let's examine that for a second... Mother Nature. Mother to all, partnered with Father Earth? Presumably? So... they had a child? A crusty old man-child, a la Benjamin Button, known as Old Man Winter? This is my guess. BUT then that begs the question where is Baby Jane Spring? Sue-Svelt Summer? Finneus Fall? And the other seasonal figure heads I just bullshit my way through... Wheres that leave Jack Frost? Is he infact the horrible, inbred creature of Old Man Winter and Finneus Fall??? Who wrote this crap? It surely wasn't me.
ANYWAYS, apparently Mother Nature And Father Earth have about 4 really "challenged" kids, Old Man winter being the most cantankerous of them all, and evidently the most spoiled here in Cleveland. We see so much of him. He gets let out of his cage or child harness sometime in October. Now see, he's old, so it takes him a moment or two get truly riled up and going. At this point it's November and all the tantrum fury of his blustery, man-child wrath is laid upon us. And since he has the fervor of a delinquent youth in his old man veins, Old Man Winter cavorts wildly well into almost May. It is then, and only then, that again in old man fashion, for no apparent reason he quits the cold and falls asleep. Now the other three siblings get a shot to play. Basically they squabble over the remaining months of May — September. Which of course is plenty of time to span out the seasons of Spring Summer and Fall.
However, between the months of November and April, we lock down and play host to this lumbering bag of insanity Old Man winter opens on us... Much in the same way people carve pumpkins to ward off evil spirits, Clevelanders put out orange construction barrels before winter to ward him off... It is known throughout Clevelander lore that we have two seasons here, Orange Barrel and Winter.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Friday, December 5, 2008
Reading Traffic: A Higher Brain Function
Like much of the rants sure to come about on this vast wasteland of detritus-texts that are the internets, THIS post has been a long time coming.
You all can identify with what is about to unfold. You have encountered it and maybe even share a similar loathing for it as do I. When driving you have come across a multi lane stretch of road. This is to ease the flow of traffic to prevent congestion in an urban area. Smart enough. And along these stretches you may likely spy a row of traffic lights. THESE are meant to aid in the control and flow of traffic from intersection to intersection. Smart enough again. What of course pokes a massive hole in this intelligent design (not the god kind) is the set of lights that do not offer turn signals at streets that require them! If you are a street that has access from the left, as do most, request that your accompanying light have an extra globe with a GREEN ARROW IN IT.
Putmeinchargeoftrafficlights!!!
What is the function of having 16 green lights in a row, when none of them offer the option to turn left? Yeah theres 47 lanes of open traffic going straight, but as soon as that left most lane needs to to turn, instant deadlock. That is until someone can squeak out, stage left. And as many of you have likely encountered this, you also know that this Left-light-poser with its false assurance of left turning, never permits more than one car per light rotation. So if 6 cars have to turn left, chances are accounting for traffic businesss (read busy-ness), one cars is maybe getting through, two tops if they trail each caravan style. On a rare occasion, a driver will pull what is called a California Left, which involves the mere cunning and balls of the driver to blow through a red light before the oncoming opposite side moves.
The issue of arrow-less light is grating for sure in multi lane streets. However, when a double traffic light exists on a single lane street? THAT is about as useful as an elbow on your eyelid; equally as dumb and dysfunctional. Why, why WHY?!? would anyone need a second green light with no arrow... I already know Im stuck to wait to turn, but to make matters more ridiculous, you have a second light, entirely worthless, reminding me that if it HAD an arrow light, I would be on my way already. But no, there we all sit, staring at TWO green lights, waiting to turn left and can't, while everybody stuck behind us is contemplating murder because the jagoff in the foremost car had to go West... I mean really, a second light like that without an arrow is as glib a display of convenience as giving a homeless man a refrigerator.
And while Im at it!!! This just happened recently and is specific to me as far as I know. It is an occurrence that I am stymied by because of its infrequence. That of course being students ability and inability to walk in front of my car. I drive through a college to and from work everyday. The average throng of students go about their business (read biz ness) and of that day-rigor is street crossing. Recently, I was driving home and a crosswalk sat a good 200ft. from where I was. A student had already began heading across the street. By the time I reached about 100ft from him, he had already cleared my side of the street. For whatever reason, he turned tail like a squirrel and darted back to the sidewalk. Mystified I drove by and watched as he again re-crossed the street. Now, no traffic was coming the other way and I wasn't driving fast. So why in name of orange barrels would this kid abandon his adventure when he was nearly home free??? And it wasn't for him forgetting something either, again I watched him (I was driving slow) He literally ran back, tagged up on the curb, and began walking again as soon as drove by... This is odd to me since typically college kids will just bomb out right in front of my car with unabashed determination to get to class. Insane as that is, (because I change cds often and rarely watch where I go) I respect enough their focus to not get themselves killed by my four-wheeled assault cab known as the Suburu Impreza. I would also like to point out that I don't have a vendetta to settle wherein I pickoff students by the packload with my car, nor does my driving suggest that. Admittedly it sounds like something I might consider though, especially depending on how long I sat to turn left at the previous light.
You all can identify with what is about to unfold. You have encountered it and maybe even share a similar loathing for it as do I. When driving you have come across a multi lane stretch of road. This is to ease the flow of traffic to prevent congestion in an urban area. Smart enough. And along these stretches you may likely spy a row of traffic lights. THESE are meant to aid in the control and flow of traffic from intersection to intersection. Smart enough again. What of course pokes a massive hole in this intelligent design (not the god kind) is the set of lights that do not offer turn signals at streets that require them! If you are a street that has access from the left, as do most, request that your accompanying light have an extra globe with a GREEN ARROW IN IT.
Putmeinchargeoftrafficlights!!!
What is the function of having 16 green lights in a row, when none of them offer the option to turn left? Yeah theres 47 lanes of open traffic going straight, but as soon as that left most lane needs to to turn, instant deadlock. That is until someone can squeak out, stage left. And as many of you have likely encountered this, you also know that this Left-light-poser with its false assurance of left turning, never permits more than one car per light rotation. So if 6 cars have to turn left, chances are accounting for traffic businesss (read busy-ness), one cars is maybe getting through, two tops if they trail each caravan style. On a rare occasion, a driver will pull what is called a California Left, which involves the mere cunning and balls of the driver to blow through a red light before the oncoming opposite side moves.
The issue of arrow-less light is grating for sure in multi lane streets. However, when a double traffic light exists on a single lane street? THAT is about as useful as an elbow on your eyelid; equally as dumb and dysfunctional. Why, why WHY?!? would anyone need a second green light with no arrow... I already know Im stuck to wait to turn, but to make matters more ridiculous, you have a second light, entirely worthless, reminding me that if it HAD an arrow light, I would be on my way already. But no, there we all sit, staring at TWO green lights, waiting to turn left and can't, while everybody stuck behind us is contemplating murder because the jagoff in the foremost car had to go West... I mean really, a second light like that without an arrow is as glib a display of convenience as giving a homeless man a refrigerator.
And while Im at it!!! This just happened recently and is specific to me as far as I know. It is an occurrence that I am stymied by because of its infrequence. That of course being students ability and inability to walk in front of my car. I drive through a college to and from work everyday. The average throng of students go about their business (read biz ness) and of that day-rigor is street crossing. Recently, I was driving home and a crosswalk sat a good 200ft. from where I was. A student had already began heading across the street. By the time I reached about 100ft from him, he had already cleared my side of the street. For whatever reason, he turned tail like a squirrel and darted back to the sidewalk. Mystified I drove by and watched as he again re-crossed the street. Now, no traffic was coming the other way and I wasn't driving fast. So why in name of orange barrels would this kid abandon his adventure when he was nearly home free??? And it wasn't for him forgetting something either, again I watched him (I was driving slow) He literally ran back, tagged up on the curb, and began walking again as soon as drove by... This is odd to me since typically college kids will just bomb out right in front of my car with unabashed determination to get to class. Insane as that is, (because I change cds often and rarely watch where I go) I respect enough their focus to not get themselves killed by my four-wheeled assault cab known as the Suburu Impreza. I would also like to point out that I don't have a vendetta to settle wherein I pickoff students by the packload with my car, nor does my driving suggest that. Admittedly it sounds like something I might consider though, especially depending on how long I sat to turn left at the previous light.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Vacuums: Sucking Every Which-Way
Has anyone seen the commercial for the Dyson line of vacuum cleaners? If you haven't, the owner himself proclaims he spent something-to-the-effect of his last 12 years developing this "revolutionary" vacuum... Twelve years, really? It took you TWELVE years to improve upon the technology of the vacuum cleaner, which is essentially a motor and fan in reverse, pulling dirt into a bag or container. I cannot even recall what exactly he did to improve upon the product other than make it look more "techy" and "hosey" and of course, paint it yellow. Take THAT Dirt Devil and Hoover, all hit up with your red selves... Anyways, the Dyson guy is not the problem, other than the fact that he took 12 damn years improving something that was in dire need of an obvious fix; make the vacuum suck less, or better, whichever.
My gripe today is with all the devices that idiot boasted his product against. The rest of the vacuum lot. Over Thanksgiving I had to help vacuum the floors at my folks house. No big deal right? No gripes over helping take care of pre-dinner chores. In a way, it's all part of the holiday experience... I digress. What DID bother me is having to use god's own mistake of a vacuum that my parents owned. Now, I have to address this piece by piece. One would think that when using a vacuum hose to clean a floor, the manufacturer would provide enough length to maybe, MAYBE go further away from the vacuum than three feet. Not this one. The hose is made of some type of corrugated elastic, which when extended to a usable length, sends the base vacuum hurling at you in return as if it was Batman's grappling hook attached to a rooftop. So in order to clean without risk of a rear assault from the vacuum, one must drag the base along with every step of those, thus negating any convenience it should and could provide. Morons.
So then the vacuum straight up breaks because its holy rolling piece of consumer waste. Fortunately enough (or so I thought) my Grandparents, living close by, brought their home model by for us to use. This one takes the prize. The hose on this bad-boy doubles as the handle to which you steer the thing. Fine if your vacuuming with the base, but yet again, try to use the hose and your lugging this worthless air stand behind you! Except with this hunk of hoover-flop you don't even have a handle to catch to prevent the attack when the elasti-hose with no length jerks the base right back at you! Worse yet, this model goes right for the back of the knees when it falls, and lemme tell you I have the battle scars as evidence.
To this I say put me in charge of vacuums. I guarantee I won't develop worthless minute details over decades and I surely won't let slip a leg debilitating design flaw through the process. That should be alarming to anyone right then and there... being in the creative field, I have a fair understanding of how a design gets filtered through the channels. To use not one but TWO horrible examples of vacuum design it makes me a bit horrified to consider that groups, TEAMS of people; designers, engineers, focus groups etc, let this stuff go. As I stood at the top of my parents steps, I contemplated how joyous it would have felt to boot the godforsaken appliance down the steps I struggled to vacuum minutes ago. It occurred to me that this dreadful excuse for consumer product that sat next to me (unbeknown of its possible death-by-stairs) somehow saw fruition. People in some part of the country saw this thing and went " Good, great, let's get this to market." Had I been in charge, I would have beaten them silly, trying in vain to bludgeon them with the vacuum hose, only to have the propelled base cut me down at the legs.
My gripe today is with all the devices that idiot boasted his product against. The rest of the vacuum lot. Over Thanksgiving I had to help vacuum the floors at my folks house. No big deal right? No gripes over helping take care of pre-dinner chores. In a way, it's all part of the holiday experience... I digress. What DID bother me is having to use god's own mistake of a vacuum that my parents owned. Now, I have to address this piece by piece. One would think that when using a vacuum hose to clean a floor, the manufacturer would provide enough length to maybe, MAYBE go further away from the vacuum than three feet. Not this one. The hose is made of some type of corrugated elastic, which when extended to a usable length, sends the base vacuum hurling at you in return as if it was Batman's grappling hook attached to a rooftop. So in order to clean without risk of a rear assault from the vacuum, one must drag the base along with every step of those, thus negating any convenience it should and could provide. Morons.
So then the vacuum straight up breaks because its holy rolling piece of consumer waste. Fortunately enough (or so I thought) my Grandparents, living close by, brought their home model by for us to use. This one takes the prize. The hose on this bad-boy doubles as the handle to which you steer the thing. Fine if your vacuuming with the base, but yet again, try to use the hose and your lugging this worthless air stand behind you! Except with this hunk of hoover-flop you don't even have a handle to catch to prevent the attack when the elasti-hose with no length jerks the base right back at you! Worse yet, this model goes right for the back of the knees when it falls, and lemme tell you I have the battle scars as evidence.
To this I say put me in charge of vacuums. I guarantee I won't develop worthless minute details over decades and I surely won't let slip a leg debilitating design flaw through the process. That should be alarming to anyone right then and there... being in the creative field, I have a fair understanding of how a design gets filtered through the channels. To use not one but TWO horrible examples of vacuum design it makes me a bit horrified to consider that groups, TEAMS of people; designers, engineers, focus groups etc, let this stuff go. As I stood at the top of my parents steps, I contemplated how joyous it would have felt to boot the godforsaken appliance down the steps I struggled to vacuum minutes ago. It occurred to me that this dreadful excuse for consumer product that sat next to me (unbeknown of its possible death-by-stairs) somehow saw fruition. People in some part of the country saw this thing and went " Good, great, let's get this to market." Had I been in charge, I would have beaten them silly, trying in vain to bludgeon them with the vacuum hose, only to have the propelled base cut me down at the legs.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
A Harrowing First...
After many, many years of loathing the various on-goings around me, I have finally decided to do something about it — bitch in a blog; worthlessly. I find that to counter counter-productivity is to in kind point out all its flaws as someone above it all, while ironically still managing to actually be just as useless as the object in question; all problems, no solutions. This pertains to anything in our speculatively functioning world — cars, commercials, products, people — you name it. Throw a stone and chances are you'll hit something I would like to throw a much heavier stone at...
So without further adieu, after much bottled frustration, the first of what is likely to be many...
Put me in charge of the Holidays.
It should be put out there for those that do not know me well enough, which is probably most of you, that I am massive fan of holiday kitsch. I don't subscribe to religion at all, but come December, or really Thanksgiving night, I get the urge to break out the decorations, put on some Vince Guaraldi and kick back to enjoy what is typically the most stressful time of year. I should preface this also by saying that when it comes to holiday kitsch, I bask in old, nostalgic holiday kitsch. Old movies, old music, old decorations, ya know, back when things were created with craftsmanship, care and thought — before corporations realized that the colors red and green were commodities...
I physically feel ill when I hear remix versions of old Christmas tunes ( think the Gap cutting White Christmas to a 'beat' or the techno patchwork of a Dean Martin's Let it Snow) If you or anyone you know has listened to, created, or partaken in holiday crimes of this degree, immediately hollow out your ear canals with a candy cane. ALSO, do not try and recreate anything... let the past be the past. There is a reason A Charlie Brown Christmas has not been replaced on TV, mainly because none of the comp-gen crap out there NOW cannot even come close. And believe you me, its not without trying. I think its a fair guess to say that ten years from now, christ even TWO years from now, no one is going to look back on the Dora Explorer Winter Show. Leave well enough alone. Even Rankin Bass, the purveyors of most classic holiday fodder — Rudpolph, Frosty, Santa Claus is Comin' to Town — even THEY have been known to cock up and overdo it. Anyone remember the Life and Adventures of Santa Claus? Nestor the Long-Eared Donkey? Rudolph and Frosty's Christmas in July??? Yeah... Even the makers of the classics need to know when to quit. If youre going to make something classic, try being honest, try being genuine, try making something of quality. Stop recycling the same tired concepts, and stop over saturating your show with the ones that work! Ever catch, well really, ANYTHING that's on ABC or the Disney Channel? Holy Jumpin Jesus... There is a staggering abundance of bright design and color and decoration, and Im not even talking about the holidays specifically, everything they do is just saturated, saccharine shit.
Unrealistic homes spaces, personalities that no sane person possesses and life situations that simply do not exist outside of television. Perfect turkeys, fake smiles, awe-inspiring crowd moments and laugh tracks; put them all in a land fill.
Christmas is pine trees with large bulbs and tinsel. Christmas is snow and red ribbons and old bells. Christmas is family gatherings, It's a Wonderful Life, and music that sounds as old as it is.
Tune in next time for even more hypocritical ranting!
So without further adieu, after much bottled frustration, the first of what is likely to be many...
Put me in charge of the Holidays.
It should be put out there for those that do not know me well enough, which is probably most of you, that I am massive fan of holiday kitsch. I don't subscribe to religion at all, but come December, or really Thanksgiving night, I get the urge to break out the decorations, put on some Vince Guaraldi and kick back to enjoy what is typically the most stressful time of year. I should preface this also by saying that when it comes to holiday kitsch, I bask in old, nostalgic holiday kitsch. Old movies, old music, old decorations, ya know, back when things were created with craftsmanship, care and thought — before corporations realized that the colors red and green were commodities...
I physically feel ill when I hear remix versions of old Christmas tunes ( think the Gap cutting White Christmas to a 'beat' or the techno patchwork of a Dean Martin's Let it Snow) If you or anyone you know has listened to, created, or partaken in holiday crimes of this degree, immediately hollow out your ear canals with a candy cane. ALSO, do not try and recreate anything... let the past be the past. There is a reason A Charlie Brown Christmas has not been replaced on TV, mainly because none of the comp-gen crap out there NOW cannot even come close. And believe you me, its not without trying. I think its a fair guess to say that ten years from now, christ even TWO years from now, no one is going to look back on the Dora Explorer Winter Show. Leave well enough alone. Even Rankin Bass, the purveyors of most classic holiday fodder — Rudpolph, Frosty, Santa Claus is Comin' to Town — even THEY have been known to cock up and overdo it. Anyone remember the Life and Adventures of Santa Claus? Nestor the Long-Eared Donkey? Rudolph and Frosty's Christmas in July??? Yeah... Even the makers of the classics need to know when to quit. If youre going to make something classic, try being honest, try being genuine, try making something of quality. Stop recycling the same tired concepts, and stop over saturating your show with the ones that work! Ever catch, well really, ANYTHING that's on ABC or the Disney Channel? Holy Jumpin Jesus... There is a staggering abundance of bright design and color and decoration, and Im not even talking about the holidays specifically, everything they do is just saturated, saccharine shit.
Unrealistic homes spaces, personalities that no sane person possesses and life situations that simply do not exist outside of television. Perfect turkeys, fake smiles, awe-inspiring crowd moments and laugh tracks; put them all in a land fill.
Christmas is pine trees with large bulbs and tinsel. Christmas is snow and red ribbons and old bells. Christmas is family gatherings, It's a Wonderful Life, and music that sounds as old as it is.
Tune in next time for even more hypocritical ranting!
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