On the verge of what seems like a new day in America, we the smarter half of the population, looked forward to closing the curtain on what will be plaintively remembered as “The Bush Era”. The 2000’s arrived with a fresh lot of political screwballs ready to fuck our country up six ways from sunday. Alongside these noble decision-makers stood a wide array of doltish public figures reminding us that not quite all of the douche bags are in Washington. Just enough of them to keep you thinking twice about wearing your God Bless America sweat shirt anywhere outside of …

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There are three girls, and he grabs the first one at the knees, bringing her down under him quickly and harshly. The second girl gets out of the room, but the third is frozen in place, watching. He stands up and his body faces hers. She backs against the wall, face twisted, quivering voice saying, “Please, please. Please… don’t hurt me.” He smiles with his whole face, with his mouth and with his eyes, and he chuckles as though at a television screen, and then pulls words out of the laugh: “C’mere, gimme a hug.”

President Obama’s liberating inauguration speech was one to be remembered for many years to come – his nearly flawless charisma has won over many, including myself. The reserved, well-mannered message he delivered reassured me of the good intentions he has for this country. One thing, however, threw me off, and ten days later, I still can’t get past it.

The way he addressed Americans – “Christians, Muslims… non-believers…” hit a soft spot of mine. Although I was glad that our new president had the courtesy to at least acknowledge individuals that don’t belong to a particular religion, it was somewhat disappointing …

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[this post is part 1 of a 156-part series, "The Twilight Zone"]

This is where it all began.

The place is here. The time is now. The picture is black and white. The footage is grainy.

Overlong synopsis, ripe with spoilers:

A man finds himself walking down a road, just dripping with amnesia, leaving globs of the stuff behind him like Hansel and Gretel’s breadcrumbs. He comes to a town, and goes into a diner. Everything is left on, but nobody is there. He gets himself a cup of tea and a sausage, and leaves some money on the counter. Investigating the rest …

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[note: this post has nothing to do with vampire novels for young girls]

Take heed, oh internet: I am as of the time of this posting embarking upon a quest for knowledge, a quest which you will have a window into through this very blog! The sharper among you have probably already guessed at the nature of my undertaking because of the title of this very post, but for those of you who are somewhat slow, let me explain the parameters of the exercise:

I am going to watch and then write about each one of the 156 episodes of the original …

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William Gaddis, writing about Christmas in The Recognitions:

“Tragedy was foresworn in ritual denial of the ripe knowledge that we are drawing away from one another, that we share only one thing, share the fear of belonging to another, or to others, or to God; love or money, tender equated in advertising and the world, where only money is currency, and under dead trees and brittle ornaments prehensile hands exchange forgeries of that which the heart dare not surrender.”

David Foster Wallace, writing about a life in “Incarnations of Burned Children”:

“…and the child’s body expanded and walked about and drew pay and …

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[this post is part 1 of a 6-part series called "A Critical Investigation of Cattle Decapitation’s Six Full-Length Albums"]

Label: Three-One-G
Runtime: 12:26
Tracks: 18

The sound:

Shitty, shitty drums, sloppy and awful. General lo-fi atmosphere, but not the worst quality you’ll hear from a grind record. Buzzing guitars are executed proficiently enough. Vocals come in pairs, always one high rasp and one low gurgle, unafraid to condense whole sentences into a two-second incomprehensible guttural sound. And in sections without lyrics, they’ll often just make gross noises to pass the time. With an average song length of about 40 seconds, there’s not much songwriting …

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My intent is to create a document of one band’s decade-long (and still going!) crusade to bring militant veganism to death metal. My investigation will center on two large and amorphous aspects of each record: the sound, and the rhetoric. Sound because to be effective in carrying a message, a band must create compelling music. Otherwise nobody will listen to them. Rhetoric because duh. At the end of my investigation I will conclude that Cattle Decapitation are not very effective at campaigning for veganism, but I will also conclude that they probably don’t care because they’re just trying to be …

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“What are you going to do with the $500?” Susie asked as she held Ciggie’s drawing up in front of her face. She turned it this way and that as if she didn’t know which end it was supposed to sit on.

Marnie gripped the back of a chair and enunciated her words with her hands. “Did you not just hear my tale of Ciggie?” she said.

Susie nodded, frowning as she looked up at Marnie.

“Yes, but…You didn’t get a number or anything. How’re you supposed to find him?”

“He doesn’t have a phone, I don’t even think he has a home. He …

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To Peg (verb): An act of heterosexual intercourse in which the female partner penetrates the male partner’s rectum using a strap-on dildo.

Usage Examples:

“Oh, fuck, peg me harder!”
“I love to peg my boyfriend!”
“My boyfriend loves to peg.”
“Pegging is easy and fun!”
“Have you tried pegging to spice up your sex life?”
“We pegged for the first time last week, and we’ve never been happier!”
“I knew that what we have is true love, I’ve known it since the minute she first pegged me.”
“Wait, is pegging gay or isn’t it?”
“We pegged last night, and we had to stay up until four in the morning cleaning …

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There is a knock on her door. She turns from what she is doing and says, “Come in!” A skinny, pale man in a suit and fedora walks up to her, carrying a man-high papier-mâché penis in front of him. She looks at it and says, “My, that’s way too big! Do you have anything smaller?” He looks at the camera and grins like, “You know what’s coming.” She reaches for his belt buckle.

“Badass” is a word we all have an instinctive understanding of, but it’s tough to define. My computer’s built-in dictionary defines “badass” as “n: a tough, aggressive, or uncooperative person, adj: 1) tough or aggressive 2) particularly bad or severe 3) formidable; excellent.” Wiktionary defines it as “N: 1) a mean or belligerent person 2) a person whose extreme attitudes and behavior are admirable, adj: cool.”

Neither of these definitions can quite capture the grandeur, fury, righteousness and ass-kickery of those who the term is applied to. Instead of attempting to fine-tune a definition of my own, I wish to embark …

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1,405
1,125
2,224
1,029
271
689
962
245,604

Question: Why is one of my videos so much more often watched than all the others combined?

Answer: Because I tagged it “gay sex.”

And now let us ponder how one might use the information provided in this post to become internet famous.

I have beaten Donkey Kong Country in under 50 minutes.

Are you proud of me?

Eagerly awaiting your response,
Deniz

If You Like Comics,

That Are On The Internet:

MS Paint Adventures.

Why You Should Read This Comic (If You Like Comics (That Are On The Internet)):

Because: Its formal structure (an imitation of text-based role-playing games) is unique and provides a heretofore untapped pool of humor.

Because: Despite what you would think because of the title, the artwork is great (and gets better as the comic goes along).

Because: It’s surprisingly complex and erudite (in a really really funny way, not in a boring and hard to read way).

Because: Its use of animation (more frequent as the comic progresses) is a nice example of …

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