Do You Feel Lucky?

(and feel free to comment! My older posts are certainly no less relevant to the burning concerns of the day.)

Thursday, June 30, 2011


to read some of my poetry, wow. Man.

You'd think I was pretty fucked up.

I mean, don't get me wrong! I love those poems.

I'm always fucked on the poetry, because so many people put poetry forward one way only: into a dark teak cushioned box with kneelers, and a miniature pew: a confessional. But fuck that! I was born Catholic. Why do I need?

Poem-wise, I'd be a novelist.

On Science's Need For Encouragement

"Science needs criticism more than it needs encouragement. When you've got a bunch of people sitting around a table in an atmosphere of hand-holding and mutual credulity, supporting and encouraging each other's perceptions and impressions, that's not science. That's a séance."

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

On the microphone, I come correct.

I had a sudden urge to put, "correctly," but then I thought that sounds like I'm having a really punctilious orgasm.

Monday, June 27, 2011

Road Safety Corner #15: Turn Signals Are Fucking Important

Do your turn signals work? If you don't know, check 'em. If they don't, get that looked into and fixed, because turn signals are fucking important!

Have you ever been driving and you see a guy cut right across in front of you, no turn signal? Fuck that guy! He's an asshole. Or you're waiting for somebody, they have the right of way, but suddenly they turn - you never even had to wait at all! If only you knew! No turn signal. Fuck that guy. He's an asshole!

Or maybe that guy is you. Maybe you're the one not signaling your turns? If so, I've got some unpleasant news for you. It might come as a shock: fuck you. You're an asshole.

See how I turned that around on you? In logic, that's what they call a solecism. Basically it's one of those "this means that" deals. You can't fucking refute someone who argues by means of solecism. Don't even try it. You will be the one made to look stupid!

The upshot of all that is, for fuck's sake make sure your fucking turn signals work - and use them. Simple fucking logic, folks.

That's it for another edition of Road Safety Corner. Click on the 'Road Safety Corner' tag in the labels, for more of my inimitable tips!

Not Getting Through to Your Employees?

I want to create a series of Extreme Workplace Training Videos. The Sexual Harassment one would feature hard-core sex scenes. The Danger Safety one would include snuff clips. And so on.

In today's hip, edgy, above-all-desensitized workplace, the company that cares is the one that does whatever you have to do to get the message through.

Sunday, June 26, 2011

The Penis Theory of Everying, Pt.2

When God created the universe, he was overcompensating for certain shortcomings in another area.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

If Your Kid Loses a School Election, How Does It Help Him Feel Better to Tell Him It's a Popularity Contest?

That's probably a rhetorical question.

Sorry vs. Apology

My apologies rule. I hate these apologies where people come in all whining and wheedling and asking you to feel a different way, or whatever. None of that for me! I just say "HEY. I see here where I was out of line, where I behaved ungallantly towards you: will you just look at that? Unacceptable, by my standard. Therefore I apologize." If I've done something I can apologize for, damn: I apologize.

None of this wiggly gray area crap! "ooooo I'm sorry if I offended you or hurt your feelings..." I mean, sure, I'd be sorry to offend too, if I did! But those kinds of apologies are so weak. If that's all a person's got to say on the topic? It's like playing it both ways, like "oh, well, I didn't mean to offend you (translation: I didn't do anything wrong, it's the thought that counts right?), but I'm SO SORRY you were offended (translation: you're a little on the sensitive side, aren't you?)."

Those are garbage apologies. Fuck's sake. The point of an apology isn't "oh I'm sorry I offended you oops, didn't mean to", it's to say "I offended MYSELF on that shit. This is a case of bad behavior, I just offended my own sense of justice on how I handled this with you - and whatever the hell I was thinking at the time, I'd like you to know I see that now. And I apologize."

See how I operate? Cold. Sorry just means you feel bad. Apology means you were demonstrably wrong.

Anyway, point is, I apologize. And sure, if I offended you or hurt your feelings as well, well, I'd be sorry for that too! But I'm not going to spin it at you like the real problem is your feelings.

I know, I know, I hate it when people go on and on with some big apology, but I couldn't help myself here on this one.

Monday, June 20, 2011

So, This One Might Be Tricky to Pitch...

Two words: Balletstar Galactica

You Only Get to See the Light Just One Time In Your Life

"Black Magic" - Jarvis Cocker, the Fillmore '08

I woke up in the morning
and all the bells were ringing
my eyes could see the glory, baby
could hear the song they're singing
you only get to see the light just one time in your life...
black magic
that blows your mind away
takes you somewhere that you want to say
but you only get to stay one day
that cold black magic

is there anything more wretched
than to just have caught one sight?
the eyes that saw the glory,
have been blinded by the light
and it's the true believers that crash and burn
but there ain't no way I'm ever going to learn
black magic
that blows your mind away
takes you somewhere that you want to say
but you only get to stay one day
oh, that cold black magic

we can't escape, we're born to die
but I'm going to give it a real good try
'cause nothing comes close
and nothing can compare
to black magic, yeah
yeah, yeah

A Surprising Number of People Still Seem to Go In for The Penis Theory of Everything.

I say the inadequate penis-size displacement neurosis theory of male behavior isn't deeply ingrained at all. I say it doesn't go back into the deep roots of the culture and the species. I say it came in, very identifiably, with Sigmund Freud and his phallocentric theories of psychosexual development. Furthermore, I say that prick was overcompensating for something!

Not for his penis size, mind you. Dr. Freud was legendarily well-hung, at least if we are to credit the steamy disclosures of Jung's "Red Book." No, I'd guess that Freud was overcompensating for shortcomings in his theories. He must have been aware of that fact that he pulled all of those theories pretty much straight out of his ass.

But that's his deal. What I don't understand is how we in the modern world - long after serious psychologists have discredited and discarded the large part of Freud's wang-waggling! - can continue to embrace this superstitious-on-the-face-of-it connection between the penis, and just about every visible manifestation of the male mind's world. It cannot be true that the penis controls all of these things: cars. Wardrobe. Tools. Guns. Cigars. Real estate. Career - and on, and on! Yet still we have this obsessively penis-fixated contingent of the public that seems to think the penis size of others depends wholly upon these far-flung symbolic elements, any one of which can be pulled from the overcompensation grab-bag to make and close the giggly case.

What is the true source of this (objectively hilarious) delusion? Even if Freud kick-started it, his theories alone cannot be responsible for its continued appeal. Is it a medical condition? Does the delusion depend on factors in the person's upbringing? Or do these people simply enjoy picturing other peoples' penises so much that they will take any excuse to do so? "I'm, um, imagining what that guy's penis probably looks like. Hey, it's not my fault! He was driving a car."

Surrrrre he was.

Important point: when I disparage the idea that penis size can be determined by outwardly-visible "symbolic elements," please note that arousal is not symbolic. It is concrete. In my experience, at least.

Anyway, for the last time: my penis is not large because I drive such a crappy car. The one thing's got nothing to do with the other.

Friday, June 17, 2011

I wish my skin was indestructible.

If my skin were indestructible, I could deal with the broken bones.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

"Quote of the Day"

"Like a mixed metaphor, train wrecks can be hard to re-rail midstream."

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

First I Was Like! But Then...

Okay, first I was like: They Might Be Giants "Constellation"! I didn't know they made a video for this song! Oh my gosh, I love this song!

For some reason it just looked like it was going to be an official video. Pretty far-fetched, considering they got the song name wrong.

Anyway, I settled in expecting to be delighted, by the inimitable video stylings of one of the best bands at that shit. And I watched. And something wasn't right. And my heart sank, ahhh dang. Fan-made photocollage video.

So disappointing, right? Except...I kept lingering in the initial expectation of it being a real video. I couldn't dislodge that expectation, that vibe, that mental ambience. And pretty soon, it was impossible to see it any other way. It seemed to me that - somehow - They Might Be Giants had way back then created a video for this song in the distinctive, pitch-perfect style of a fan-made video photocollage!

Viewed in this light, the video is hilarious! A triumph! They should totally make a video just like that! And who better to do it? They Might Be Giants, that's who!

John, John, just picture yourselves in an official video by a big-name video director that could replicate/live up to just this sort of standard:

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

You hate the gray? I always kind of got into the gray.

The eeeevile person in the movie always has something deep to say to the good one about "but what would your precious 'good' be without evil? What is the light without the dark? What meaning does sound have without silence?"

First off, that dude's a dick anyway, and he's wrong: fuck him. This whole "necessity of opposites" doctrine is a true horse-crock of straight, pure false. In order to be able to appreciate a blowjob, you do not at any point ever need to experience the anti-blowjob. OK? Ok.

It's a crock. Without pure white, pure black would be? Pure black. And with no black at all, pure white would still be? Pure white. I'm prepared to believe that if humans could all see another color's worth of bandwidth past both ends of the visible spectrum, into the infras- and ultras-, our philosophical dipwits of history would just as easily have broadened their palettes to ask: "What would Orange and Green be, without Rinf and Klurple?"

They'd be orange and GREEN, genius.

Which brings up another point, too. All these dichotomizing, duelling dualists, man - how come it's always either the either-or or the interdependence of two possible extremes with these guys? Why are their clever little leaps and sophistries always to the defense of extremes?

Nobody ever stands up for the in-between. Who goes to bat for gray? Where does that leave poor gray? Where's gray at? All sad and moany in the middle!

Well, maybe not. In the final analysis, I guess gray can probably take care of itself.

Maybe I Should Just Publish Unedited 'Drafts'

I feel like I've been too swamped lately to do real "high-quality" posts. Dang.


Monday, June 13, 2011


Sometime is not for dreamers. It is for workers who know what comes first, what goes into a job, and what remains yet undone. Instant gratification is for popsicles, not masterpieces. For anything that needs effort, there is always a now answer to go with a sometime answer - but the now answer is always "no."

Sunday, June 12, 2011




That fucking SCAR on Harry Potter's head is a fucking Horcrux of Voldemort.

That's what I told people like 3 movies ago! I'm not even entirely sure of the implications of that crap.

But it was so obvious.

Friday, June 10, 2011

Kickass Screenplay Ideas Number 5ive (well, not really, but I had to)

There should be a prequel to Se7en called 5ive. In it, the John Doe character works his way through an earlier grisly series of murders, each inspired by one of the classic 5 Stages Of Grieving from the Kübler-Ross model of Grief Theory.

It would turn out that his dog had died.

Thursday, June 09, 2011

You Know What I Have a Bad Habit of?

You know what I have a bad habit of? Ending a sentence with a preposition.

But you know what, I don't even think that's a bad habit, really! It's not like comma splices. Or starting a sentence with a conjunction. In the scheme of sins, I think ending a sentence with a preposition can be an elegant stylistic choice.

So there.

I mean, it's really all about how you use it. Grammar's a tool, not a rule. Perfect example, there's no grammatical "rule" against putting literally every other word of a sentence into italics, is there? No! Yet think for a second how intrusive that would be! What an obstacle that would be, to conveying nuance and meaning. It goes to show two things: one, as I've said, it's less about rules than about how you use the tools. The second thing is: we need to get real. It's clear grammar alone is impotent. It can't get the job done; it can't prevent these rampant abuses of italics that we see today, especially in certain ethnic communities.

Grammar's not enough. It's time to introduce legislation. An unpopular stance I know, but there it is. I said it. Bold words, yes. But as I've said before, bold words call for bold times.

Artists who can't make anything that is clearly and obviously good aim at Originality.

Only a mediocre artist considers originality to be sufficient. Originality - by which I mean: novelty of theoretical conception - is the cardinal virtue of the mediocre artist; the incompetent critic; the well-cowed, cowardly art consumer. For creator and spectator alike, originality is the easy way out. So long as one can squint and say, "Well, I haven't seen that before" - one never needs to reach for anything higher or deeper.

If it can be claimed to be original, one never has to defend or explain why a thing is good.

Yes, That!

I have an irrational fear of logic and reason.

Paradox Blues

I don't understand these people who supposedly sold their soul to be a great musician. How can you be a great musician without soul?

Wednesday, June 08, 2011

Quote of the Day: Clever, or Not

"One of the chief blessings of intelligence is that you can figure out clever ways to make stupid things doable."

Open Letter to the Sky

Dear Sky,

Fuck you. Everyone says you're so pretty - I don't buy it. It's just a bunch of CRAP up there! There's dots, tiny bright ones, there's big bright ones too - and in the day time there's all this blue shit! And sometimes big puffy white piles of junk - but then other times you'll get all gray and GROSS, and all this gross wet WATER comes down! And the main thing - except for the water or snow which, who KNOWS what the theory on that is??!?! - no matter what all that crap up there is or how pretty people say it is, you can't TOUCH any of it! So what the fuck GOOD does it do??? How does it help! How do we even know it's not all CGI?

Fuck you, Sky. You ain't pretty at all to me. You're not pretty in my eyes. I turn my back on you.

Even if I have to lie face down in the dirt to do it.



Sunday, June 05, 2011

Meditations on Death

It used to be the only thing I cared about or talked of was death. Death was my mistress, and my drawing room. Death was my law and my reprieve. Death was a convent garden to me, its black-habited attendants busily pulling weeds and stabbing the hard soil through the body with spades, while I lay in a hammock of death, and sipped from a glass of cool tea.

Death was like the pussy willow that sways and rattles with its fellows in dry winds over the still and brackish waters of a protected wetlands. We must all of us one day wade that swamp.

Death was my tinder flint. Death was the dry paper. Death was my coarse ground black pepper. Death was the ground beneath my feet, and I wore it like a hat.

Nowadays though, it all seems to have grown somehow silly.

Saturday, June 04, 2011

Friday, June 03, 2011

Note: Important Point re: Constitutional Law vis-a-vis Free Speech!

Censorship is protected by the first Amendment. I mean, unless it's the government doing it.

We Make It Easy For You

Here at Consider Your Ass Kicked!, we here at Consider Your Ass Kicked! make it easy for you. You can appreciate this blog in three easy ways. Or, you could just read it! Even easier! You can 'Like' us on 'Facebook.' First, one of you will have to create some kind of 'fan page' (I'd really rather not have to do that myself - a little too own-horn-tooty?) but again, to keep stressing the theme, I understand that Facebook makes this easy for you.

Getting back to the more "in-blog" elements - you can even leave a comment, if you wish! The process takes a little trickiness to manage, but after you do it a few times, it's quite easy to get used to (we make it easy). What you do is: look down below the post itself, to see the word "Comment." If you take your mouse and maneuver it across its pad so that the associated arrow is positioned directly over the word "Comment", you will see the word "Comment" light up a little - and the word itself will be underscored with a graphic line underneath. This is your visual cue to depress one of the selector buttons on your mouse: the Left button (if you're a PC), or the Only button if you're a Mac (one easy button! Another way we make it easy, for Mac users). The "click" you hear will transport you to a form with instructions for leaving a comment. It's that easy! Please follow all the instructions carefully. If you have any trouble, please leave a comment on this post. I'll get to the bottom of it.

There are many other features that we here at Consider Your Ass Kicked! make easy for you, right here on the blog itself, right where it matters most: in the posts. Of course I'm talking about content. As you browse through the blog, some posts will have picture or video content. Videos are playable by clicking the screen image. Pictures can be viewed by looking at them.

It's hard for me to think of anything on this blog that we don't make easy for you.

The main way that we here at Consider Your Ass Kicked! try to make it easy for you is by typing all this crap. Can you imagine having to type all this crap yourself, before you get to read it? Welcome to my world.

You're welcome.

Triumphant Return of Fiction Friday!: "Me and Sprite"

Me and Sprite

I must have been about 11 years old, and I ordered a Sprite with my slice of pizza from Friar Tuck's at the Brigantine Castle Amusement Pier (right up the "drawbridge," past the portcullis!). It was way too sticky, and sickly sweet. It made the outside of the straw sticky. I decided then and there that I didn't like Sprite, that it was too sticky, and I never ordered it again.

Thursday, June 02, 2011

SCREW YOU, Dr. McNinja!

Man, I am THROUGH with "webcomics." Every one I find (that I like), I'll start from the front and plow straight through the story voraciously, and then - it STOPS.

It just stops dead. Right in the thick of the story.

Then a few days later, you get a little bit more.

Who can re-immerse in a fictional universe this way? In this abrupt, start-stop interrupted punctuated fashion? What kind of medium is this, through which to grip me with a thrilling narrative?

It's like if you buy a book, and you're really into it - you can't put it down! - then suddenly 100 pages from the end, it stops. And they start mailing you a page at a time, every Monday, Wednesday, Friday. Acceptable? Aw, naw. Hells naw.

I'm sorry, this is an irredeemably flawed story delivery system. Okay, the gag-per-page self-contained comics? Exempted. Those are fine.

Cat And Girl, you're off the hook.

YES TIME!!! For Basketball Excitement

Being a Feminist

Being a feminist is far more about respecting women than it is about respecting other feminists.