MOVED!@

I have moved due to the fact that Wordpress is better than Blogger.

http://lineuptoeatme.wordpress.com is the place to line up!

By Jove, I Think I've Got It!

I think I have Battlestar Galactica all figured out. All you have to do is strip away the premises that everyone seems to accept for no reason, and the clues are there. There's just a lot of extra noise and hilarious invisble sex to distract you.

I really hope I'm right-it's the only logical way the story can end. I sent an e-mail to a friend telling her the details. When the show's over, I'll post it here.

Calcutta Hookers' Kids Aren't Very Funny. And still...

I just watched an incredible documentary on a photographer who lives in an Indian brothel in Calcutta, and she befriends the kids and does all she can to try to help them get better lives for themselves. It was absolutely heartbreaking.

And still, the least-funny thing I've seen in the past 10 days is last week's Saturday Night Live.

While I'm at it, "Across the Universe" BLOWS as a movie. However, the soundtrack is more than stunning. Dana Fuchs...where did she come from, and why haven't I heard of her before? Oh, and I must of course give credit where it's due. Bono was absolutely hilarious as The Walrus, and Eddie Izzard was surreal as always. I LOVE that high-heel wearing Englishman! I love to speculate on what his home looks like.

But yeah. Buy the soundtrack to "Across the Universe." It's worth it.

Eat Shit, Disney. Eat shit and die.

First, let me say that I am not a man-hater or necessarily a feminist. I'm all for equality, though. I'm not a troll, either. I'm not trying to be inflammatory. And no, I am not a hippy all stinky with patchouli and wet wool, and I am NOT voting for Hillary Clinton.

I just finished watching the movie "Enchanted," which is one of Disney's new, modern, feel-good romances, starring Amy Adams and that guy who was cute in the 80s, then got plastic surgery and is now on Grey's Anatomy.

The movie started great. The princess, a total moron, falls for a prince, who is also a total moron, simply because they heard each other singing in the forest. It was a great setup. Then they all become "real," and are suddenly in Manhattan.

The Grey's Anatomy Yutz (let's just call him G.A.Y.), of course, falls instantly for the vacuous princess, and his fiance, who is an intelligent woman with (GASP)a career, sort of figures it out, but is okay with the whole thing.

Career women don't mind being tossed aside, and in the name of Disney-brand "true love," she ends up falling for the stupid, effeminate prince. Because surely, she must secretly want to be "the man" in the relationship.

In the finale, the queen, played by Susan Sarandon, turns into a dragon and is portrayed as an evil uber-bitch as she wants to keep her crown rather than leave it to her Forrest-Gumpy stepson, the effeminate prince. So she gets killed (to great cheers from the imagined audience), G.A.Y. of course ends up with the moron Amy Adams princess, and the effeminate prince gets the "smart," but oddly emotionless former G.A.Y. fiance by default. Everybody's happy, and the credits roll.

Am I the only one who was actually REALLY upset by this ending? I am actually still in a messy, slobbery rage over yet another misogynist-disguised-as-moralistic movie in which being a woman completely dependent on some man swooping in to SAVE her is the best thing to be?

That "true-love's kiss" is the most powerful thing in the world?

ARE YOU KIDDING ME???

It's 2008, and yet everyone in the world (even outside Taliban-controlled areas of the world) seems to think it's the middle ages as far as women are concerned.

According to Disney, these are the rules:
-If we women are meek, stupid, frail and pretty, we are in GREAT shape. We will get a man, who will make our lives complete.
-If we have brains in our heads, have a job, and rational perspectives on things, it's perfectly okay to just toss us aside in favor of someone who needs to be saved.

Just because I don't know how to make my own clothes, and I know how to form a thought in my brain, and actually, gods forbid EXPRESS my thoughts and opinions, I may as well be a dragon to be pushed off the top of a freaking building.

Susan Sarandon, who has always chosen her roles well in the past, should be ashamed of herself. Same with Amy Adams, who was BRILLIANT in "Junebug." Same with every single person who does anything for Disney. And shame on me for watching this film.

If you are a woman or know a woman who is even SLIGHTLY above average intelligence, don't bother putting yourself in the path of this movie.

This movie makes me feel completely worthless. If this is an expression of what the world is like, I don't want to live in it. I am ashamed to be a human. I wish there was some sort of magic laser that could transform me into some other creature than human. I wish I had an ice pick. If I did, I swear to all that is holy that I would lobotomize this demoralizing movie out of my head. If it failed and I died, it would still be worth it.

If anyone mentions "Disney" to me in anything other than a derogatory manor, I will smack them across their face.

Dear Seattle TV Stations,

Let me start by telling you flat out that not everyone in Seattle is retarded. Let me proceed by telling you some other things. For instance, when you say, "Thank you for inviting us into your homes," you are deluding yourself, and you aren't impressing anyone. You are not in our homes. Nor would I, or anyone NOT caught up in your sense of self-importance, invite you over. You are talking heads, nothing else. When you make quips back and forth to each other during the news, all you are doing is showboating.

Since when did the delivery of the news require self-congratulatory, egoistic bullshit? How many times during a newscast do you really need to repeat your name, or have one of your "co-anchors" say your name?

"I'm Jeff Renner. And now, back to Lori Matsukawa with her story on handmade teddy bear garments. Jeff Renner, over and out. Lori?"

"Thanks for the weather report, Jeff Renner. Nice sweater. Let's hope for sunshine [polite, yet uncomfortable laughter echoes throughout Seattle]! Hi, I'm Lori Matsukawa, standing under a street light where earlier today, a bicyclist dropped her backpack. Sadly, that backpack contained handmade teddy bear garments for students of Oprah's Academy of Information Technology and Arts in the Zambezi region of darkest Africa, where apparently, many non-American African-Americans are still awaiting reparations for slavery. I'm Lori Matsukawa. Back to you, Jeff Renner. "

You get the picture.

Beyond the hot tub party indiscretions of Kathi Goertzen at WSU or Jean Enerson's plastic surgeries (her skin has to be the size of a postal stamp, stretched to near breaking) and reported shoplifting sprees years ago at Nordstrom's, nobody gives a flying shit about you, or anything you might have to say that isn't of relevance to the news you are supposed to report.

All the public requires and wants are pleasing voices and (unless you are a man, or an unfortunate field reporter forced to stand knee-deep in frozen cow shit) well-groomed faces telling us what is going on in the world.

Do we notice when you're feeding us your opinion, or that occasionally you are clearly on the take from certain businesses or other interest groups? Of course we do. Just tonight, right before "My Name Is Earl," a highly-rated NBC syndicated show, a KING-5 "news" reporter came on to tease the 11 o'clock news. The producer strung together clips showing our state's governor bitching about the NBA trying to move our asshole basketball team to another state, some other local fluff stories, and then a flat-out plug for McDonald's. The reporter said, and this is a direct quote, "More free java, and when you can get it under the Golden Arches! At 11 on KING-5 news."

*edit: it was Dennis Bounds, and it also aired at the :15 break during "Earl." I double-checked the veracity of the above quote on my Tivo.

I repeat: WE ARE NOT ALL RETARDED.

Stop treating us like we are.

Stop treating us like you are friends of ours. You are not. I don't trust you in even the loosest sense of the word. You have never given cause for your audience to feel anything other than annoyance, anger at your lax attitudes toward what constitutes "news," and pity at newbie reporters who are doing things akin to hanging from a toenail into Mt. St. Helens' crater as it releases a little steam.

And a personal note to Jeff Renner: the sweater thing does not work as a trademark. It worked for Bill Cosby 30 years ago. It does not work for a middle-aged, plump, hypertensive white man who spends 14 or so minutes out of every hour of news to tell us it might rain and it might not.

Kudos to Rich Marriott for telling us the weather without forcing yourself onto us like a used-car salesman with a tired, sorry pitch. A little less information on the birds on the building's "roof garden" would be appreciated. An aside: reporting from the building's rooftop may be "on-the-scene" reporting, but it doesn't exactly pack a punch when you're out there and it's dark.

As a rule, any reporter who is not sitting behind a desk (other than a weatherman standing in front of the green screen) is a tool. There are no exceptions to this rule, and that includes "on-the-scene" reporters who add nothing to a story by standing on the site where "news happened" 12 hours ago, or standing in the middle of a blizzard to report on traffic at the pass.

Let's talk about man-on-the-street interviews. It won't be a long conversation. All that needs to be said is: NOBODY CARES WHAT SOME JACKASS ON THE STREET THINKS ABOUT ANYTHING. Nobody. About anything. So stop. Do YOU care what celebrities think about politics? No? You're starting to get it.

To all reporters, and I cannot emphasize this enough: You_are_not_celebrities. Your presence is not needed or helpful at any event other than maybe charity events like breast cancer walks. Nobody is coming to see YOU. They are going to the car dealership to buy a car. If you get paid to be at a ribbon-cutting ceremony at the new Bulk Foods For Fatties store, more power to you. But please, don't let it go to your head. Carlene Johnson? You should ask for better lighting when you're doing those car commercials. Better yet, get your ass back on the radio and off the television. It's enough that I have to hear your ceaseless prattling on the radio. I don't want to have to look at you too. Your kids? Nobody cares.

Your names do not lend credibility to anything.

Unless you are out there actually talking to the newsmakers during the day and bringing home and editing your own news footage (like reporters from the not-so-distant past who actually worked for their credibility), you are not a reliable or creditable source. You have interns gather stories from the wire, and sift through piles and piles of press releases to decide what is news. Then you read what they've written, fix the typos and figure out pronunciations, and put your name on it. That is the product you are selling. A lot of people buy it, but that doesn't make it good. A good salesman can sell a ton of shit sandwiches, but the pitch doesn't make them taste better.

You are given blocks of time by producers, who are often nothing more than glorified interns, in order to provide ample time for traffic and weather and sports scores. Because, let's be honest, those are the segments that draw in the ratings. And things that draw the ratings draw advertisers, and that's what SHOULD matter to you. YOU are responsible for making your newscasts interesting. Not your interns, not your producers. YOU. You are the product, and you need to make an effort instead of relying on your minions to make you interesting or relevant. That doesn't mean stray from the topic and make unfunny, politically-correct and totally safe quips to your coworkers on the air.

What I'm trying to say is, you are the ones who are ultimately responsible for the material you present during every broadcast. It wouldn't kill you to go out and find a story more relevant to more people than the standard, "John Doe's shirt got stuck in a fence, and now, sadly, he's shirtless." And then go to a reporter live on the scene. Nobody cares. If you're going to report fluff, find some INTERESTING fluff. Maybe interview some urban explorers, or do a survey. Ask some questions. There are stories out there beyond what you hear on the police scanner.

On the subject of what is news, a daily death tally on the Iraq war is not something you need to be reporting. People can research that on their own. It is depressing, sad, but ultimately it is not news. The death toll remains about the same every day. You don't report every day that the sun comes up, do you? Why is that? Because it's the same data every day? Right. If there's a huge increase in deaths, or a huge decrease, that's news. If it's the same number every day, it loses its significance and loses its emotional impact. It becomes routine. Also, keep in mind that if news reporting during World War Two was like it is now, I guarantee you we'd all be speaking German.

And KOMO radio "personalities" (that's what they call themselves, no shit!): nobody cares about your personality either. Just read the fucking copy they hand you and stop pretending anyone gives a fuck what your name is. We don't. We want to hear what we need to hear, without all the fluff you shove down our throats.

Nobody likes being force-fed. And you ARE force-feeding us. If you are going to treat us like retards, at least feed us banana pudding and give us some fucking bibs and some napkins to wipe off our retarded chins.

There you have it. I hope everyone is well and that the itching behind Jean's ears isn't too bad this week. I hope they let her back into Nordstrom's sometime soon.

What's that, Jeff Renner's Sweater? Oh okay. Grab the shotgun and bring in the cat. It looks like rain.

You each have a standing invitation to eat me. Get in line, shitbags!

Sincerely,
the staff of "Line Up To Eat Me"

The Alan Thicke Voiceover Invasion

Have you noticed that Alan Thicke's voice is all over the TV? He's voicing Comedy Central, he's voicing a bunch of other stations and commercials too.

Has this been going on for a long time and I didn't notice? Perhaps it's the law of attraction (*cough BULLSHIT!!*), and I'm just noticing Alan Thicke's voice as my Tivo has started recording Growing Pains every day. I watch it when I'm barely awake, and marvel at the acting prowess of religious sociopatch Kirk Cameron, and feel sorry for the kid who played Ben. He started out as a moderately cute little kid, and then had to go through a very awkward puberty on television, with writers who were clearly (and I'm borrowing from "A Christmas Story" here) under the delusion that he was a darling little rascal up to the hijinks of a sweet little 8 year-old. When he was approaching 18.

I'm not even going to talk about poor Tracy Gold, who was never even SLIGHTLY overweight, but those writers wrote fat jokes about her as SHE went through puberty on television, driving her to a life-threatening eating disorder.

If Alan Thicke's career has a comeback, it seems, however illogically, that he's dancing on the corpses of the show's former children's innocences. That sounds harsh, and Alan Thicke didn't write the show or direct it or anything. I still blame the adults on that show for not speaking up and telling the writers and producers to 86 the fat jokes on the sensitive teenage girl who is being judged by an entire country of stupid people, and who had to think about every last white-trash child-molester's opinion of her. Because frankly, those are the types of people who tend to be the squeaky wheels. Those are the types of people who make comments listened to by impressionable girls with bad self-images. Today, I saw Tracey Gold make a "pig" joke about herself on that show. They made her make pig jokes. About herself. And she was skinny.

Way to kill off entire cross-sections of America's youth, my beloved 80s sitcoms! I sat back and watched it all happen, and now, I can't figure out why. That's why my tivo records all the sitcoms I watched and loved and learned from (hell, i had an absent father, a hardworking mother, and an executive for a stepfather. I was home ALL the time, alone). I'd go so far as to say the influx of sitcoms were more parental to me, teaching me the difference between right and wrong, not to read other people's diaries, etc. They were my parents, and it hurts me to deconstruct them.

I suppose I'll stop this ramble and just end by saying, I wish those actors well, and that their sacrificed childhoods ARE still appreciated, and I'd love to take you guys out for a brewsky and not talk about what it was like to grow up making money by having strangers make you do stuff that made you feel bad.

You pooor. poorrr bastards


Look me up and I'll buy. As long as you're in Seattle.

Save the Poisonous Blood-Melting Snake of Borneo!

The TV keeps telling me that vipers and other incredibly poisonous snakes, alligators and crocodiles, predatory sharks that take over beaches where people swim, and lethal, invasive, and exponentially more populous, nearly-invisible jellyfish are all animals that are beautiful and need to be protected and not hunted and killed.

They've been on the planet, evolving, for millions and millions of years. Smooth-voiced narrators on the Discovery Channel and other channels say this like it gives the toxic bastards some sort of right to slither, swim, roll, and stomp all over the planet; MORE of a right than humans.

If they've been on the plane for millions and millions of years, I say, they've had a good run. It's time to phase the fuckers out so they can't bite us and sting us and rip us and eat us up any more.

I have a pretty smooth voice. Maybe I'll make my OWN documentary, explaining the dynamic of hunter vs. hunted, and how when a species becomes the PREY, it's okay to fight back and kill whatever is trying to EAT you.

Give me a fucking break. Sharks are awesome animals, but if one tries to bite me, you can bet your sweet ass I'm going to cut its fucking head off and mail it to fucking PETA.