Carnivale is great TV

If you haven't seen HBO's "Carnivale" then now is the time to get on board. It's the story of two men discovering that they are not exactly who or what they thought they were. One is a possessed preacher with his eye on empire and destruction (Clancy Brown) while the other is a escaped con and carnie with the power to heal (Nick Stahl). Sci Fi fans will recognize these guys right away as The Kurgan and John Connor.

Each man is haunted by dreams about an eventual confrontation with the other. This all takes place in the Dust Bowl of the Great Depression with plenty of wierd carnie action and religious symbolism to keep anyone with taste interested.

Each episode takes its sweet time. It's like great sex. The show is 90 percent atmosphere and I hope it doesn't get around to the plot any time soon because way too many great shows were ruined because they felt compelled to pay off too soon.

Woke up thinking about God today

Depending on which poll you see, as many as 95 percent of all Americans identify themselves as believing in God. It's a huge number of people. The vast majority of those people are Christians -- the highest point in most towns and small cities is a church steeple and most places I've been to have more churches than bars -- so why is it that there is actually so little Christian activity going on? I don't see much "love thy neighbor" let alone "love thy enemy." Judge not lest ye be judged has been replaced with God wants me to hate gays, the Bible says so.

I blame this on two facts: 1) people are brainless, amoral hypocrites and 2) the Bible.

The first is pretty clear. People are fucking animals who believe in God because they are literally scared to say they have doubts outloud because the big invisible being who can see and hear everything might smite them old school.

The second might be less obvious to the kind of mutts who live in America and never read anything more challenging than the TVGuide Channel. The Bible is full of excuses, contradictory commands, out-dated rules for surviving in the desert and, let's face it, out and out bullshit. No eating of shellfish? That's all about the desert. I bet a good piece of shrimp wouldn't have survived more than 10 minutes out of the ocean in those days before it could lay waste anyone who tried to scampi it. Don't cut the hair on the sides of your head? Why would God care?

The effect has been one of total chaos and, on a daily basis, a bit of rudeness. It's OK and practically demanded to say you believe in God if asked. But say that God talks to you and you're nuts. That's obvious, but say that you live your life according to the way you believe God wants you to act and your still nutty and a bit of a freak. It's OK to not fuck because God says so, but you can't take five years off from work to travel the Earth and get to know humanity, it wouldn't look good on your resume.

The "Surreal Life" makes me weep

I was watching "The Surreal Life 4" tonight and felt myself moved to tears as Verne Troyer (Mini Me) road his scooter about the house bare-assed naked and rat-assed drunk.

"I'm drunk," Verne said. Then the littlest star pissed in the corner of the living room and I was overcome with a desire to pick him up and throw him.

But Christopher Knight (Peter Brady) is ripped though. He's like Batman. The fucker looks a hell of a lot better with his shirt off than I ever did.

Go-Go Jane Weidlan got naked in the hot tub and my withered loins moved a little

Rapper and self-described bitch Da Brat, two models (one German dude and some chick I couldn't care less bout) and pro-wresler Chyna Doll round out the cast. I will undoubted be back for more. It's like a car crash.

Keep on Rockin' in the Free World!

This pic is wrong for so many reasons, but it's right for only one: It's kinda funny. If JFK were alive, he'd be laughin' harder than any of us.

The search is on ... apparently

I like to look ... at stats that is. I signed up for for one of those free stat trackers to see who was coming and going and how they found my site. Usually, it is by complete accident after searching for the most bizarre combination of terms, usually involving sex, that just happen to be on my site. The following list are search terms freaks from Lebanon to Malaysia, Ontario to England, Yemen to Glendale, Calif. have used to get to my humble blog. It is an interesting list made more so not by the appearance of such queries as "amputee arm fuck stories" but by ... OK "amputee arm fuck stories," but also that anyone would want to see pictures of calista flockhardt these days.


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The single greatest photo anyone has ever taken of me. (photo by Tony Miceli)

Porn and Sausage

I am a big fan of the Food Network. I consider it to be central to my daily viewing. One of its shows is "Every Day Italian" featuring Giada De Laurentiis. She is a lovely girl with shiny blue eyes and slim little body, which is really surprising considering she is really enthusiastic about food and clearly loves to cook AND eat.

But when I watch Giada's show, I can't escape the feeling that I am watching really high quality porn, the really atmospheric stuff with the slightly less cheesy music and marginally improved video technology. I'm sure she's a wonderful person, she seems quite nice, but in just the right light, she has that look of the porn queen at the top of her game making the kind of porn flick she's "always dreamed of making."

Every time she takes a hot Italian sausage and squeezes the meat out of its casing or describes the sensation of anything on her tongue or says the word "sweet," I get positively turgid expecting the UBS man to show up with "a special package" for her if she'll just "sign right here."

Still, I think she beats hell out of Emeril any day.  

I've come to save all you fat fucking idiots ... but first, let's see if I can save myself

I was watching Gandhi the other night when it occurred to me that Americans could really use saving. Here we are living in the most prosperous nation on earth with more fat fucks per square mile than anywhere in the universe, access to just about any kind of knowledge we could possibly want and yet we remain cut off from our potential. We might be the greatest nation on earth but we could certainly be a much greater one.

In Indian, Gandhi realized that poverty was the greatest act of violence. You could take a train from one end of India to the next and see all the skinny fuckers and be impressed by the tyranny of the British. I can guarantee you that it would have been quite a different sight had the people of India been able to get their hands on Doritos and cheeseburgers.

In the United States, it is the poorest people who ARE fat because the only thing they can afford to eat is unhealthy crap with so much salt, carbs and additives it's positively addictive. Add this to the fact that average American is a wage slave working non-stop just to stay in poverty that when they get home ... if they can manage it and don't work two or three jobs ... they have just about enough energy left to camp out in front of the TV to watch sitcoms and dramas packed with nearly 1/3 commercial content.

I'd like to do for America what Gandhi did for India though and that is create a truly spiritual movement among a people who desperately need it. If I could only figure out some way to get the corporations to pay for it and do it as a half-hour (20-minute) comedy show about nothing.

We are a people whose junk-filled bellies and pabulum-dulled minds stand in the way of our true potential. Frankly, I see no end to this. We live in a system that guarantees we can never change it. We aren't supposed to change ourselves, improve our own lots because we're fat. Our poor people are fat so OBVIOUSLY it is a waste of time to do anything for them because in other countries poor people are starving. So in America, it is actually considered silly to be concerned about the state of poor people in America because in a way, they don't exist.

It's a mind fuck, people. We could all use a good spiritual enema, of course we won't get it because we need to get up at 6 to go to some mindless, soul-crushing job that barely keeps us going. We live in a constant state of anxiety and live as moral shut-ins as a result. Ever try to reach a higher level of consciousness when you're shit-scared of losing everything?

 

It's a good point, but ...

 


I found this on the web. It's a message I agree with and makes a point that I've made a few times myself. I usually include "bikini" in the list along with scarves and brooches because, call me a huge homo, but I don't think anyone should ever rub the flag on her cootch.

I never had the bright idea of putting this message on a bumper sticker, probably because the flag shouldn't appear on a bumper sticker any more than it should on a T-shirt. So I'm seeing right through this guy.

The Quentin-essential Monologue

This monologue is from a little known film called "Sleep With Me." It featured a number of short, inter-connected subjects from a group of young film makers including Quentin Tarantino who performed the following monologue written by Roger Avary

---

What's a film about, what's it really about? What genre does it take?

[Duane: What, like the spine? Like one sentence?]

No, I don't, fucking boy meets girl, I don't give a shit about that. Fuck boy meets girl, fuck motorcycle movie. No, what is really being said? What's really being said, that's what you're talking about. 'Cause the whole idea, man, is subversion. You want subversion on a massive level. You know what one of the greatest fucking scripts ever written in the history of Hollywood is? Top Gun.

[Duane: Oh, come on.]

Top Gun is fucking great. What is Top Gun? You think it's a story about a bunch of fighter pilots. [Duane: It's about a bunch of guys waving their dicks around.] It is a story about a man's struggle with his own homosexuality. It is! That is what Top Gun is about, man.

You've got Maverick, all right? He's on the edge, man. He's right on the fucking line, all right? And you've got Iceman, and all his crew. They're gay, they represent the gay man, all right? And they're saying, go, go the gay way, go the gay way. He could go both ways.

[Duane: What about Kelly McGillis?]

Kelly McGillis, she's heterosexuality. She's saying: no, no, no, no, no, no, go the normal way, play by the rules, go the normal way. They're saying no, go the gay way, be the gay way, go for the gay way, all right? That is what's going on throughout that whole movie...

He goes to her house, all right? It looks like they're going to have sex, you know, they're just kind of sitting back, he's takin' a shower and everything. They don't have sex. He gets on the motorcycle, drives away. She's like, "What the fuck, what the fuck is going on here?" Next scene, next scene you see her, she's in the elevator, she is dressed like a guy. She's got the cap on, she's got the aviator glasses, she's wearing the same jacket that the Iceman wears. She is, okay, this is how I gotta get this guy, this guy's going towards the gay way, I gotta bring him back, I gotta bring him back from the gay way, so I'm do that through subterfuge, I'm gonna dress like a man. All right? That is how she approaches it.

Okay, now let me just ask you--I'm gonna digress for two seconds here. I met this girl Amy here, she's like floating around here and everything. Now, she just got divorced, right?...

All right, but the REAL ending of the movie is when they fight the MIGs at the end, all right? Because he has passed over into the gay way. They are this gay fighting fucking force, all right? And they're beating the Russians, the gays are beating the Russians. And it's over, and they fucking land, and Iceman's been trying to get Maverick the entire time, and finally, he's got him, all right? And what is the last fucking line that they have together? They're all hugging and kissing and happy with each other, and Ice comes up to Maverick, and he says, "Man, you can ride my tail, anytime!" And what does Maverick say? "You can ride mine!" Swordfight! Swordfight! Fuckin' A, man!