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it's the bizzity bizzity bomb*
Anyone up for a night of '80s pop, debauchery and undercover reporting at Shattered tomorrow?
*Although I don't normally explain my post titles, I don't want anyone thinking I'm adopting snoopdoggish as my new language. This one comes from an Atom and His Package song.
02-28-2003 8:00 PM - comments (4)
Dear God, is Simian good.
(Special thanks to michael for introducing me.)
02-28-2003 7:48 PM - comments (0)
Hmmm.
02-27-2003 8:03 PM - comments (0)
I hope I'm not violating any copyright laws, but I wanted to post an excerpt from a moving piece on Mr. Rogers that ran in Esquire a few years ago. I highly recommend reading the whole article.
Can You Say Hero?
By Tom Junod
Copyright © 1998 by Tom Junod. Originally published in Esquire, November 1998.
Once upon a time, there was a boy who didn't like himself very much. It was not his fault. He was born with cerebral palsy. Cerebral palsy is something that happens to the brain. It means that you can think but sometimes can't walk, or even talk. This boy had a very bad case of cerebral palsy, and when he was still a little boy, some of the people entrusted to take care of him took advantage of him instead and did things to him that made him think that he was a very bad little boy, because only a bad little boy would have to live with the things he had to live with. In fact, when the little boy grew up to be a teenager, he would get so mad at himself that he would hit himself, hard, with his own fists and tell his mother, on the computer he used for a mouth, that he didn't want to live anymore, for he was sure that God didn't like what was inside him any more than he did.
He had always loved Mister Rogers, though, and now, even when he was 14 years old, he watched the Neighborhood whenever it was on, and the boy's mother sometimes thought that Mister Rogers was keeping her son alive. She and the boy lived together in a city in California, and although she wanted very much for her son to meet Mister Rogers, she knew that he was far too disabled to travel all the way to Pittsburgh, so she figured he would never meet his hero, until one day she learned through a special foundation designed to help children like her son that Mister Rogers was coming to California and that after he visited the gorilla named Koko, he was coming to meet her son.
At first, the boy was made very nervous by the thought that Mister Rogers was visiting him. He was so nervous, in fact, that when Mister Rogers did visit, he got mad at himself and began hating himself and hitting himself, and his mother had to take him to another room and talk to him. Mister Rogers didn't leave, though. He wanted something from the boy, and Mister Rogers never leaves when he wants something from somebody. He just waited patiently, and when the boy came back, Mister Rogers talked to him, and then he made his request. He said, "I would like you to do something for me. Would you do something for me?"
On his computer, the boy answered yes, of course, he would do anything for Mister Rogers, so then Mister Rogers said, "I would like you to pray for me. Will you pray for me?" And now the boy didn't know how to respond. He was thunderstruck. Thunderstruck means that you can't talk, because something has happened that's as sudden and as miraculous and maybe as scary as a bolt of lightning, and all you can do is listen to the rumble. The boy was thunderstruck because nobody had ever asked him for something like that, ever. The boy had always been prayed for. The boy had always been the object of prayer, and now he was being asked to pray for Mister Rogers, and although at first he didn't know if he could do it, he said he would, he said he'd try, and ever since then he keeps Mister Rogers in his prayers and doesn't talk about wanting to die anymore, because he figures Mister Rogers is close to God, and if Mister Rogers likes him, that must mean God likes him too.
As for Mister Rogers himself... well, he doesn't look at the story in the same way that the boy did or that I did. In fact, when Mister Rogers first told me the story, I complimented him on being so smart--for knowing that asking the boy for his prayers would make the boy feel better about himself--and Mister Rogers responded by looking at me at first with puzzlement and then with surprise. "Oh, heavens no, Tom! I didn't ask him for his prayers for him, I asked for me. I asked him because I think that anyone who has gone through challenges like that must be very close to God. I asked him because I wanted his intercession."
02-27-2003 1:46 PM - comments (0)
I hope I'm not violating any copyright laws, but I wanted to post an excerpt from a moving piece on Mr. Rogers that ran in Esquire a few years ago. I highly recommend reading the whole article if you can locate it.
Can You Say Hero?By Tom Junod
Copyright © 1998 by Tom Junod. Originally published in Esquire, November 1998.Once upon a time, there was a boy who didn't like himself very much. It was not his fault. He was born with cerebral palsy. Cerebral palsy is something that happens to the brain. It means that you can think but sometimes can't walk, or even talk. This boy had a very bad case of cerebral palsy, and when he was still a little boy, some of the people entrusted to take care of him took advantage of him instead and did things to him that made him think that he was a very bad little boy, because only a bad little boy would have to live with the things he had to live with. In fact, when the little boy grew up to be a teenager, he would get so mad at himself that he would hit himself, hard, with his own fists and tell his mother, on the computer he used for a mouth, that he didn't want to live anymore, for he was sure that God didn't like what was inside him any more than he did.
He had always loved Mister Rogers, though, and now, even when he was 14 years old, he watched the Neighborhood whenever it was on, and the boy's mother sometimes thought that Mister Rogers was keeping her son alive. She and the boy lived together in a city in California, and although she wanted very much for her son to meet Mister Rogers, she knew that he was far too disabled to travel all the way to Pittsburgh, so she figured he would never meet his hero, until one day she learned through a special foundation designed to help children like her son that Mister Rogers was coming to California and that after he visited the gorilla named Koko, he was coming to meet her son.
At first, the boy was made very nervous by the thought that Mister Rogers was visiting him. He was so nervous, in fact, that when Mister Rogers did visit, he got mad at himself and began hating himself and hitting himself, and his mother had to take him to another room and talk to him. Mister Rogers didn't leave, though. He wanted something from the boy, and Mister Rogers never leaves when he wants something from somebody. He just waited patiently, and when the boy came back, Mister Rogers talked to him, and then he made his request. He said, "I would like you to do something for me. Would you do something for me?"On his computer, the boy answered yes, of course, he would do anything for Mister Rogers, so then Mister Rogers said, "I would like you to pray for me. Will you pray for me?" And now the boy didn't know how to respond. He was thunderstruck. Thunderstruck means that you can't talk, because something has happened that's as sudden and as miraculous and maybe as scary as a bolt of lightning, and all you can do is listen to the rumble. The boy was thunderstruck because nobody had ever asked him for something like that, ever. The boy had always been prayed for. The boy had always been the object of prayer, and now he was being asked to pray for Mister Rogers, and although at first he didn't know if he could do it, he said he would, he said he'd try, and ever since then he keeps Mister Rogers in his prayers and doesn't talk about wanting to die anymore, because he figures Mister Rogers is close to God, and if Mister Rogers likes him, that must mean God likes him too.
As for Mister Rogers himself... well, he doesn't look at the story in the same way that the boy did or that I did. In fact, when Mister Rogers first told me the story, I complimented him on being so smart--for knowing that asking the boy for his prayers would make the boy feel better about himself--and Mister Rogers responded by looking at me at first with puzzlement and then with surprise. "Oh, heavens no, Tom! I didn't ask him for his prayers for him, I asked for me. I asked him because I think that anyone who has gone through challenges like that must be very close to God. I asked him because I wanted his intercession."
02-27-2003 1:27 PM - comments (0)
the dozer will not clear a path
I have an unhealthy obsession with Bulldozers. If I had a band, it would be called Dozer. Also, I just like the word "dozer" and looking at pictures of bulldozers.
02-26-2003 10:53 PM - comments (3)
and it's an editing test at that
Note to self: Congress Vodka and Hundred Acre Woods 100% Juice do not a productive study session make.
02-26-2003 10:52 PM - comments (0)
WHY WILL BILLY CORGAN NOT GO AWAY?
02-26-2003 10:43 PM - comments (0)
 | You lost your drummer and your album flopped, but you have a nice Russian girlfriend who takes pictures of scary women. Ahh, life is grand. |
02-26-2003 9:52 PM - comments (0)
and it's an editing test at that
Note to self: Congress Vodka and Hundred Acre Wood 100% Juice do not a productive study session make.
02-26-2003 7:43 PM - comments (1)
I've recently become enamoured with the show 30-Minute Meals with Rachael Ray (definitely follow the link--the recipes are great). I like cooking shows as a whole, but this show seems perfectly tailored for an amateur chef like myself (read: someone whose idea of complicated cooking involves making spaghetti and garlic bread simultaneously).
It's a far cry from the screaming broadcasters on FOX and the blur of headlines on MSNBC, but in my mind, the Food Network is delivering something much more satisfying.
02-26-2003 5:34 PM - comments (5)
I can safely say that I do not know anyone who has ever yelled with gusto, "Hey, Culligan Man!"
02-26-2003 5:26 PM - comments (1)
As an 18-wheeler was about to push me off I-70 yesterday (because apparently my little black Hyundai enables its cloaking device whenever a terrifyingly huge vehicle approaches), I noticed that the license plate on the car in front of me read CREM8. So if I had died in that near-accident, my preferred method of corpse disposal would have been the last word I ever read.
02-25-2003 6:48 PM - comments (2)
and so it is past all accident
I won't subject you all to a lengthy dissertation on why I'm the luckiest girl on the planet, but I will tell you this: there's no better place to celebrate an anniversary than The Melting Pot, and there's no better person to have an anniversary with than michael.
Happy two years, O.P.
02-24-2003 9:22 PM - comments (3)
At work the other day, my boss asked me if I had a lighter. When I said no, he appeared frustrated. "I'm sure someone in this building has a lighter," I offered.
He looked over at the files I had been working on all night and looked back at me grimly.
"We're going to need you to burn all of these files," he said.
"What? Why? Did I mess up or something?"
"Yes. Yes, you did. And now we need to destroy the evidence."
I just stood there in shock. I couldn't believe I had done something so terrible in my first month of work.
"Oh no, I'm so sorry. God, I'm so sorry..."
"Ha, ha. Just kidding. Will and I thought that would be a funny joke to play on you. Will, wasn't that hilarious? Rachel, you should have seen the look on your face!!"
Oh, it's on. Anyone have any good suggestions for an office prank?
02-22-2003 12:20 PM - comments (6)
Elliott is looking at me and meowing plaintively. It's very hard to tell a cat you are too busy to play, so I stop the packing process and start throwing him rubber bands to fetch. So if anyone wants to know why I'm late, I'll blame a certain unnamed grey-striped cat.
02-21-2003 11:28 AM - comments (0)
Last night Christie, Sally and I went to McNally's to celebrate Sally's friend C.J.'s birthday. It's safe to say McNally's isn't nearly the meat-market Harpo's was (see Christie's post on the subject), but it was still wall-to-wall platinum blond hair and in-shape bodies.
It's surreal being in a place where one of (perhaps the) primary goals is hooking up. Sitting down, I watched groups of girls and boys walk in separately, and as the night went on, more and more pairings occurred. I wondered how the interested guy/girl decided on someone to talk to; when everyone around you is attractive, how do you narrow it down?
I guess it's silly, but I can see it being like a mini reality-show in people's minds as they eliminate people from the list; too tall, too much makeup, too skinny, too excited when Barenaked Ladies came on the jukebox. Or maybe it's not that cerebral, as most people were more than a little tipsy. Regardless, it was fascinating to watch. I felt kind of like an anthropologist for the evening.
02-21-2003 10:09 AM - comments (1)
don't you have better things to do?
I like to think I'm a nice person. Sometimes I act in a way that would suggest otherwise, but I never do so purposefully. I don't say or do cruel things for my own amusement, and even when I'm angry, I try not to act in a way that reflects poorly on my character. And though I pity those people whose bitterness is so overwhelming that the only option they have is to lash out on others to build themselves up, I am sick of having to tolerate it. I'm tired of watching people spew their self-righteous, holier-than-thou, elitist poison on myself and people I care about.
Though it may be hard to believe, all of the intelligence in the world does not compensate for not being a good person. If you are determined to continue believing so, then do us all a favor and spare us of your childish bitterness. It's getting old.
If you don't like weblogs, don't read them. It's not that difficult.
02-21-2003 1:16 AM - comments (0)
I'm getting more than a little tired of that last entry, and luckily that weariness is enough to prompt me to post again.
My 2-year anniversary with michael is Monday, but we're celebrating it this weekend because I have to come back to Columbia for an Internet Law exam that day. We haven't bought presents or thought of anything to do yet, which, in a way, is typically us.
I think it would be fun to go to a Japanese steakhouse, the kind where the waiters throw knives in the air and set butter on fire. I've been to a few, but my very favorite was the one we went to in the Dominican Republic over spring break last year. The waiters were black (Hispanics), spoke Spanish and were dressed like Japanese chefs. Quite amusing. I ordered something with chicken and ended up with shrimp and tofu or something.
You know, I'm a lot more cynical than most people I know. All the same, the happy, secure part of me wishes people would be a little bit nicer. It would do everyone a world of good.
02-20-2003 6:40 PM - comments (0)
This is scarier than terrorism and is a bigger threat to democracy. So why isn't anyone doing anything about it?
02-19-2003 12:20 PM - comments (14)
at least it doesn't contain ephedra
I had a $10 gift certificate for amazon.com, and even though I swore I'd never do business with them again, I made a purchase tonight:
What can I say? It was only $4.28 after the certificate, tax and shipping.
02-18-2003 9:29 PM - comments (1)
they do say it's the most important meal of the day
This morning, there was a giant dancing milkshake on Nifong with a poster alerting drivers to Sonic's new breakfast hours. (Well, to be accurate, it was a person dressed as a giant milkshake and also doing a little dance.) Across the street, I noticed Taco Bell and McDonald's were also advertising their spectacular, delicious and cheap breakfast deals.
Don't get me wrong; I like a double cheeseburger and fries as much as the next person. But the thought of greasy food in the morning makes me more than a bit queasy (even if that dancing milkshake did find a place in my heart).
Oh yeah, and there's a KFC not too far down the road. I wonder when they're going to jump on the bandwagon and start serving up fried chicken omelettes. Bon apetit indeed.
02-18-2003 11:56 AM - comments (2)
just a few weeks ago, i was riding a bulldozer
Like the rest of the civilized world, I am about to pass out in anticipation of tonight's Joe Millionaire finale. Will Evan choose Sarah? Will he choose Zora? Will she stay with him once he tells her the truth about being a $19,000-aire? Or will he remove his mask and reveal his true identity: Unfrozen Cave-Man Lawyer?
Michael and I think these are the two possible secrets:
1. Once the chosen woman rejects him because "he lied to her" (not because he isn't rich, of course. These women are all about honesty and communication. Oh yeah, and bondage), it will be revealed that Evan really does have a lot of money, courtesy of Fox. Oops!
2. The woman Evan chooses will be given her own tough choice: staying with Evan or receiving her own gigantic sum of money. Her choice will "prove" what she was after the entire time.
The only thing I want to know is, how can this be called reality television?
02-17-2003 5:45 PM - comments (4)
[insert long dr. evil quote here]
I had another career epiphany last week, and it's one I want to follow through with.
I've missed every conceivable due date for the GRE and grad school applications, so I'm going to work for a year (or two) and then go back to school for my doctorate.
The doctorate will either be in English or journalism, depending on which track seems more exciting and rewarding for me. So far, I think I'd prefer being an English professor, because they seem to have some sort of control over what the focus of their classes will be (judging from the very unique and narrowly focused literature classes I've taken in the past, at least). But I also think I'd prefer researching in journalism. The good thing is, I have a little bit of time to consider exactly what I want to do, where I want to go and how I'm going to do it.
This plan is the first one I've conceived of that doesn't make me feel nervous, morose or like I'm selling out. I just don't want to be a journalist anymore, and I'm not sure I see a point in going through with a career in journalism just because I've wanted to do so for most of my life.
An English professor I had once told me being a professor is sometimes like never having to be in the real world. "You're surrounded by all of these bright and interesting people," she said. "And the appeal--and maybe the drawback--is that they're not always in tune with the fast pace of the outside world."
I'm not deluding myself into thinking going back to school for a doctorate will be easy. But somehow staying up all night, reading manuscripts and novels and writing my thesis, seems a lot better than being forced to participate in the cutthroat competition that is the journalism industry. And if I have to sacrifice being in the real world--well, that's not really what I'd call a sacrifice.
02-17-2003 11:04 AM - comments (5)
It would seem that
Valentine's Day : single people :: Christmas : non-Christians
...yet only one is culturally acceptable to criticize
02-14-2003 1:32 PM - comments (9)
just promise me that you'll never leave
I am obsessed with the song "Fashionably Uninvited" by mellowdrone. It makes me feel so strange - passionate and confused and confident and numb all at once.
Sometimes a song makes so much sense that you can't imagine it being any more perfect. And so this one has officially been added to the soundtrack to my life.
02-14-2003 1:28 AM - comments (1)
...so don't I deserve the entire lines of BeneFit and Stila cosmetics?
02-12-2003 11:33 AM - comments (6)
i shall call him 'pretentious von footballhead'
Only slightly ironic is the existence of a boy whose gigantic ego is matched only by his (physically) gigantic head.
02-11-2003 10:45 PM - comments (0)
mr. bojangles is really a girl!
Kristin is my new hero (heroine?). Because of her, I have been upgraded from crazy to slightly-below-normal status, all because I am no longer the only one who randomly blurts out "dum-dum-DUM-DUM-DUM-dum-dum-dum DOG SHOW!" (Well, Christie and Michael also partake in such insanity, but it's pretty well understood that the bond that glues together my small circle of friends is made of crazy.)
Kristin, if I ever see you in real life, it would seem we have the beginnings of a remarkably weird and intriguing secret language.
02-11-2003 10:37 PM - comments (5)
My favorite film buff woke up extra early this morning to hear the Academy Award nominations. He's slighly miffed that Salma Hayek was given the nod for best actress while Meryl Streep is only up for a best supporting role.
Even though Hayek's name shouldn't be uttered in the same sentence as Streep's, there might be some reasons for her nomination and Streep's seeming snub:
1. Hayek seems to truly care about the life of Frida Kahlo and has spent a decade trying to make Frida (sometimes, though not often, Revealed with Jules Asner tells me something I don't know). It's refreshing to see an actor who feels passionate about her craft and her heritage, and I honestly think the nomination was the film community's way of telling Hayek it appreciates her efforts. That said, I don't think there's a chance in hell she'll win.
2. I read something about how the people at Sony screwed up the SAG nomination for Streep, submitting her name for Best Actress instead of Best Supporting Actress, which is what her role in Adaptation should have been nominated for. An article in the LA Times mentioned the flub could have hurt her chances for multiple Oscar nominations. I'm fuzzy about the details, and I'm not sure if and why the Academy considers SAG's nominations in making its own nominations, so if anyone can offer more insight, please comment. (Also, I'm not sure Streep's comments were much help.)
(Oh, and like Chase, I'm excited that John C. Reilly is up for an award. He's a darling, darling man.)
02-11-2003 1:28 PM - comments (2)
dude, you're getting arrested!
SARCASM ALERT!
This is the surprise of the century.
02-10-2003 9:55 PM - comments (1)
I just saw a commercial for yet another Time-Life music collection, Gospel Blockbusters. One of the songs on the CD is "Stomp" by Kirk Franklin. Watching the video clip, I was suddenly reminded of the only person I knew who not only admitted he liked the song, but who would listen to it obsessively: my good friend Ryan. Ryan was (and still is, if he's anything like he was in high school) a devout atheist. Yet he would rewind the song over and over to parts he liked and sing along while I was driving with him, absolutely enthralled by the soul-shaking beats and heaven-inspired lyrics.
This is the same guy who wrote a beautiful essay about his heart-breaking disappointment in religion because it promised him things it could ultimately never deliver. The same guy who despised obligation and found the imposition of religious beliefs on others disgusting. I would be thinking these things as I watched him sing words like this:
"I can't explain, I can't obtain it. Jesus your love is so, it's so amazing.
It gets me high up to the sky, and when I think about your goodness it makes me wanna stomp.
Makes me clap my hands. Makes me wanna dance and stomp"
and I would simply shake my head and think in admiration, People are amazing.
02-10-2003 2:53 PM - comments (3)
Finally, a show about normal, everyday Hispanics!
"I think it's a triumph that there's a show in primetime where Latinos are not on the outside of the story." - David Mills, creator of Kingpin
02-07-2003 8:24 AM - comments (1)
she was looking like an erotic vulture
If there were 16 songs that I felt somehow described me--and I don't even mean their lyrics, just their whole feel--these would be them (that's some fine-sounding syntax!):
"Cause a Rockslide" - Badly Drawn Boy
"Stay Don't Go" - Spoon
"Denise" - Fountains of Wayne
"Authenticity" - Harvey Danger
"Genius of Love" - Tom Tom Club
"The Big Come Down" - Nine Inch Nails
"Hella Good - No Doubt
"Subbacultcha" - Pixies
"Gimme Shelter" - The Rolling Stones
"The Good Life" - Weezer
"Can We Still Be Friends" - Todd Rundgren
"Head over Heels" - Tears for Fears
"Hammering in My Head" - Garbage
"Dross" - The Smashing Pumpkins
"How Near How Far" - The Trail of Dead
"Pattycake" - Self
These are not my favorite songs by any means. When I hear them, they just sound like me. Also, there are a lot more than 16, but I didn't feel like typing any more.
I might be crazy, but what are yours?
02-06-2003 1:20 PM - comments (5)
I started crying at a Home Depot commercial today. (To my credit, it was pretty adorable.)
02-06-2003 11:56 AM - comments (0)
a thousand bushes at a thousand typewriters
We're learning about e-mail privacy in Internet Law. The professor told us about how George Bush won't e-mail his daughters anymore because he's paranoid about security.
Me, impersonating W., complete with thick accent and look of confusion: Hey! Is there e-mail in this computer? I need to Internet my daughters! Where's the Internet in this thing?
My friend Brett, impersonating a Secret Service guy: Sir, that's a typewriter.
So I was pretty much laughing for the rest of the class and for much of the way to my car and home. I couldn't stop picturing Bush trying his darndest to e-mail someone with a typewriter. Come to think of it, I still can't.
Side note: As offensive as it is, I really like Chappelle's Show. Especially the sketch where he plays a crack addict who comes to talk to elementary kids during Drug Awareness Week.
"Do you know what dog food tastes like? Just like it smells ... Delicious!"
02-05-2003 9:56 PM - comments (1)
Thanks to everyone who sent suggestions for what kind of computer I should buy. After perusing the Dell catalog several dozen times (really, I feel as though I could work there now. At the very least, I can identify their favored fonts and expressions), I designed a computer with the following:
See? I sound just like the catalog. Probably because I just copied and pasted from the confirmation they sent. I have no idea what half of it means (does anyone know what GeForce4 MX™ translates to in English?), but I know it is probably very, very good. I can't wait to put it together and subsequently smash this geriatric computer up in true Office Space-style.
As you've noticed, ouranophobe has undergone its third (and final) redesign. As you also may have noticed, I am the newest member of the negative273 community. michael and I were responsible for the design and David handled the technical stuff. And that's why they're my favorite boys.
The about, currently and links pages have all been updated, with all of the nonsense, intrigue and surprises you'd expect from ouranophobe. Lastly, comments are finally back. I'm excited to read what you think of the new design. Just remember, I sleep better at night when I have comments.