Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Worldwide from the river to Lakeside...
Carl is short on time and sleep so guess what that means loyal readers… sampler platter time!!!
1. The Caves of Hell
I have been watching through the entire run of Mystery Science Theater. I am on show number 109 (that is, the 9th show of the first official season). I have seen many of the episodes from all seasons before, but watching them in order is a lot of fun. You see the evolution of the timing, inside jokes, and the writing. Even the format of the show and personalities of the characters change over time. Yes, I put a lot of thought into this show, even though it is invisible to all but the most ravenous of us anti-nerds.
You know what an anti-nerd is, right? Aware of nerd culture and nerd mythology, but not part of it… yet our behaviors and obsessions (no matter how intelligent and edgy) can likewise be seen as nerdy by popular, mainstream culture? Basically we are self-loathing nerds, okay? We know enough about Xena to mock her fans, but know too much about her for the common man to call us brother/sister. This is the burden of the MSTie.
But I have a devil’s advocate question for you… in MST3K’s relentless parade of bad 1950’s B-movies, there seem to be a lot of common themes. One such theme is the “cave.” Caves are spooky, full of danger. Monsters freely inhabit caves, revelations that threaten man are hidden in caves, and evil geniuses use caves to plot against goodness in secret… you see the pattern? Caves seem to be on the list of primal fears somewhere below snakes, but above STDs (no one seems too scared of these anymore, do they?).
Here is my question; why are we afraid of caves? Why are they so easily used to conjure fear and foreboding? Why aren’t the heroes tucked away in caves and the monsters confined to wrought iron towers? The only hero that ever truly utilized a cave was Batman, and he is in all actuality an anti-hero… whoops, slipped into my anti-nerd costume there. I think I have an answer, let me just toss this out for you. No, I am not going to suggest that our fear of caves has some Freudian mother-loving vaginal symbolism… I’m going to suggest something more provocative than that.
Maybe we fear that when we look in a cave, it won’t be empty, but instead inhabited by the bones of a long dead Nazarene. Or not. Maybe it is just the prospect of spiderwebs in your face or bats in your hair. Or that Freud vagina thing. Your choice.
2. Spelling “team “ T-I-E-M
Man, I finally get to watch a football game (took until week 3 for THAT to happen). I was in luck, because it also happened to be my beloved Broncos… who, until tonight, I was really worried about. Did they look good or what? Well, other than their secondary. A little soft, if you ask me. A W is a W, right? We needed this to reset the division to square one.
You know how they always say “there’s no ‘I’ in team?” Well, I’ve never liked that oversimplified garbage. Look at the tape of last nights Denver-Kansas City Monday Night Football game. Just before the 4th quarter’s 2 minute warning, Kansas City scored a touchdown. It was a lazy, poor-placed pass to the left… the receiver had to leap at an awkward angle to catch it. The Bronco assigned to this receiver made a half-attempt to knock the receiver off-balance, and also made a lethargic attempt at a strip. Then he gave up. Stopped. Planted both feet, dropped his shoulders, and looked away. And the receiver ran. By the time it registered that the ball was caught, it was too late… it was a KC touchdown. Sometimes there is an “I” in team. One man can ruin it for dozens of others, and hundreds of fans. Never forget that.
There needs to be a universal understanding that folk sayings and proverbs are not ‘truth’ because they sound good or fit some metaphysical ideal. There should always be room for personal accountability, blame, and punishment. I think if you look at the shortcomings of education, professional ethics, and our legal system, you will see roots deeply planted into this culture of clever quips, unscientific wisdom, and hollow philosophy.
3. The Race Was On
One last thing. I just thought this was funny. This weekend in Illinois, a marathon was run. The course traveled through the city, which most do… only there was a lack of coordination somewhere, as 2 freight trains crossed the tracks mid-event. This means all those over achievers that use such competitions to give their pitiful lives meaning had to stop running and stand idly by. This was hilarious to a fat, slow, non-competitive man like myself. Nothing beats seeing yuppies in short-shorts and headbands standing with their hands on their hips, almost crying at the sign of a train. Some, in defiance of the unwelcome cessation of kinesis, ran in small circles (or in place). Sad. The train stopped you from running an unnatural distance in an unnaturally short amount of time. This is what the rest of us call “divine intervention.”
But then again, the “rest of us” sat on our butts, alone, eating Ruffles, watching reruns of a 1990’s show where a dorky comedian and his puppets pretend to be trapped in outer space, mocking movies we wouldn’t normally dare sit and watch on our own (that would be a waste of time wouldn’t it?). Did I mention that I am 230 pounds?! I may not be the best source for common sense related to physical activity…
Horns up.
1. The Caves of Hell
I have been watching through the entire run of Mystery Science Theater. I am on show number 109 (that is, the 9th show of the first official season). I have seen many of the episodes from all seasons before, but watching them in order is a lot of fun. You see the evolution of the timing, inside jokes, and the writing. Even the format of the show and personalities of the characters change over time. Yes, I put a lot of thought into this show, even though it is invisible to all but the most ravenous of us anti-nerds.
You know what an anti-nerd is, right? Aware of nerd culture and nerd mythology, but not part of it… yet our behaviors and obsessions (no matter how intelligent and edgy) can likewise be seen as nerdy by popular, mainstream culture? Basically we are self-loathing nerds, okay? We know enough about Xena to mock her fans, but know too much about her for the common man to call us brother/sister. This is the burden of the MSTie.
But I have a devil’s advocate question for you… in MST3K’s relentless parade of bad 1950’s B-movies, there seem to be a lot of common themes. One such theme is the “cave.” Caves are spooky, full of danger. Monsters freely inhabit caves, revelations that threaten man are hidden in caves, and evil geniuses use caves to plot against goodness in secret… you see the pattern? Caves seem to be on the list of primal fears somewhere below snakes, but above STDs (no one seems too scared of these anymore, do they?).
Here is my question; why are we afraid of caves? Why are they so easily used to conjure fear and foreboding? Why aren’t the heroes tucked away in caves and the monsters confined to wrought iron towers? The only hero that ever truly utilized a cave was Batman, and he is in all actuality an anti-hero… whoops, slipped into my anti-nerd costume there. I think I have an answer, let me just toss this out for you. No, I am not going to suggest that our fear of caves has some Freudian mother-loving vaginal symbolism… I’m going to suggest something more provocative than that.
Maybe we fear that when we look in a cave, it won’t be empty, but instead inhabited by the bones of a long dead Nazarene. Or not. Maybe it is just the prospect of spiderwebs in your face or bats in your hair. Or that Freud vagina thing. Your choice.
2. Spelling “team “ T-I-E-M
Man, I finally get to watch a football game (took until week 3 for THAT to happen). I was in luck, because it also happened to be my beloved Broncos… who, until tonight, I was really worried about. Did they look good or what? Well, other than their secondary. A little soft, if you ask me. A W is a W, right? We needed this to reset the division to square one.
You know how they always say “there’s no ‘I’ in team?” Well, I’ve never liked that oversimplified garbage. Look at the tape of last nights Denver-Kansas City Monday Night Football game. Just before the 4th quarter’s 2 minute warning, Kansas City scored a touchdown. It was a lazy, poor-placed pass to the left… the receiver had to leap at an awkward angle to catch it. The Bronco assigned to this receiver made a half-attempt to knock the receiver off-balance, and also made a lethargic attempt at a strip. Then he gave up. Stopped. Planted both feet, dropped his shoulders, and looked away. And the receiver ran. By the time it registered that the ball was caught, it was too late… it was a KC touchdown. Sometimes there is an “I” in team. One man can ruin it for dozens of others, and hundreds of fans. Never forget that.
There needs to be a universal understanding that folk sayings and proverbs are not ‘truth’ because they sound good or fit some metaphysical ideal. There should always be room for personal accountability, blame, and punishment. I think if you look at the shortcomings of education, professional ethics, and our legal system, you will see roots deeply planted into this culture of clever quips, unscientific wisdom, and hollow philosophy.
3. The Race Was On
One last thing. I just thought this was funny. This weekend in Illinois, a marathon was run. The course traveled through the city, which most do… only there was a lack of coordination somewhere, as 2 freight trains crossed the tracks mid-event. This means all those over achievers that use such competitions to give their pitiful lives meaning had to stop running and stand idly by. This was hilarious to a fat, slow, non-competitive man like myself. Nothing beats seeing yuppies in short-shorts and headbands standing with their hands on their hips, almost crying at the sign of a train. Some, in defiance of the unwelcome cessation of kinesis, ran in small circles (or in place). Sad. The train stopped you from running an unnatural distance in an unnaturally short amount of time. This is what the rest of us call “divine intervention.”
But then again, the “rest of us” sat on our butts, alone, eating Ruffles, watching reruns of a 1990’s show where a dorky comedian and his puppets pretend to be trapped in outer space, mocking movies we wouldn’t normally dare sit and watch on our own (that would be a waste of time wouldn’t it?). Did I mention that I am 230 pounds?! I may not be the best source for common sense related to physical activity…
Horns up.
Friday, September 23, 2005
Your grind and my grind ain't the same, dog.
Hey. Where have you been? It has been a month since you last read my blog. What's that? I haven't posted for a month? Hogwash. I write a new blog every day... in my head. Yeah, it's true that I have neglected my site. School is a little more intense this year than last. Which makes me sweat next year... ugh.
Anyway, since I last spoke with you all, a lot has happened. I got a new car (2004 Nissan Sentra), my niece learned to tie by herself (it was a big deal), I have become hopelessly addicted to Taiko no Tatsujin on PS2 and PSP, and a US city has been obiliterated by a hurricaine (and there may be more mayhem yet in store thanks to Rita).
Under the Patriot Act (which was relayed to GW Bush in the Appalachians in the form of stone tablets), the attack on New Orleans pretty much makes God a terrorist. So if you are in church some Sunday and hear jets... I'd climb under a pew fast! Actually, under W, we wouldn;t go after God... we'd use it as an excuse to invade Valhalla.
I have no idea how to sort out my endless supply of quips, opinions, and needless net pollution and manage to keep this short. And I so wanted to catch up with you all on what was new in my life. So I asked ("axed") my friend GeeZee da King of Monsta's to write a rap about my life in the last month... GeeZee is part of the Blue Asia/Soong Yi Dien Clique you may be familiar with if you are a long time Bubblegoose follower. Anyway, on with the show. Dog.
Anyway, since I last spoke with you all, a lot has happened. I got a new car (2004 Nissan Sentra), my niece learned to tie by herself (it was a big deal), I have become hopelessly addicted to Taiko no Tatsujin on PS2 and PSP, and a US city has been obiliterated by a hurricaine (and there may be more mayhem yet in store thanks to Rita).
Under the Patriot Act (which was relayed to GW Bush in the Appalachians in the form of stone tablets), the attack on New Orleans pretty much makes God a terrorist. So if you are in church some Sunday and hear jets... I'd climb under a pew fast! Actually, under W, we wouldn;t go after God... we'd use it as an excuse to invade Valhalla.
I have no idea how to sort out my endless supply of quips, opinions, and needless net pollution and manage to keep this short. And I so wanted to catch up with you all on what was new in my life. So I asked ("axed") my friend GeeZee da King of Monsta's to write a rap about my life in the last month... GeeZee is part of the Blue Asia/Soong Yi Dien Clique you may be familiar with if you are a long time Bubblegoose follower. Anyway, on with the show. Dog.
Straight outta CB with pestle in hand
Mao rock the blog like a one man band
Alpha one, Beta two,
what you bitches gonna do?
Mao the mad kaiju straight from Japan.
Learnin' mad science,
back in the lab
Misses all the free time he had
Straight C student
drinks with prudence
Hides his sake in a RC can
My man know drug action by just seein' the shape
mix two drugs to make a turtle an ape
breakin' God's commandments with science and such
20 year old coeds tell him look but not touch
Trippin on pop tarts, candy corn and diet coke
never takes it serious, to him life is just a joke
tries to study so he don't get behind
k-k-kick, punch its all in the mind
Spends every evening sittin on his ass
knows he'll fail if he keeps skippin' class
Umeshu in a glass, get him drunk fast
DeSimone teachin' him about 'shrooms and grass
Almost missin' quizes cause he's PC retarded
Never holla bitches cause he's Sandy retarded
Always rocks Target, not wal-mart'ed
Go to the Jay, you know he ain't carded
GeeZee, da king of da monsta's
Rock the mic the brew and the pastas
that's right, da king of the monsta's
Mao make the cash and drink up all the Fosters
Stumble around with a 2 ton backpack
Creighton girls and aqua teens always get him off track
but he puts in work like he was an oompa loompa
supa dupa
R X troopa
Conjugate the acid and beat the King Koopa
time wastin'
rice tastin'
mind on the music like he was Casey Casem
Drop dead P2's, but Mao don't chase 'em
Only 4 years boy, yo don't waste 'em
Rrrrrrrrrrr-rah!
That's right y'all
GeeZee King of da motha @#$%* Monsta's
Can't @#$% with that
Blue Asia Clique
Soong Yi Dien, stay loose sucka's
Stay off Monster Island if you know whats good for ya
Na' wha' I mean?
GeeZee, Guiron, Rodan, Mothra, Jet Jaguar...
we'll zap that ass like we was ray guns.
Out.
Had enough? Between Urban Lenny and GeeZee, I forsee my readership shrinking in the near future... more "normal" Bubblegoose stuff next time.
Horns up!