1. Enter the Wang
2. Bukkake Sunrise
3. Yellow Bile / Desperate Ground
4. Lucky Duck
5. Pipestone Octopus with Horseheart
6. Access of Evil
7. The White Death
8. Invisible Order
9. Horseheart Revolution
10. Pillow of Green Light
11. My Dust Will Be What I Am
12. Hidden From The Hidden Ones
13. Custody’s Last Battle / Secret Wars
14. Black Bile
15. Circular And Made of the Earth
Listen to the Master Musicians of Bukkake for yourself.
Author: matt
Categories
Pray for Publicity
The Reverend Billy in The New York Times, Nov. 19, 2004.
Does anyone else think that in another life, this guy would be the best publicist in the business?
Categories
Every Picture Tells a Story
Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain: Clintons and Co. in Little Rock.
Bill: “First Ken Starr, now this shit… Man, I’d so do Mary… Fucking Arafat. I coulda been a god in the Middle East. Do they have gods in the Middle East?”
Hillary: “Gee, Ted and Mary look nice today… My library is gonna be twice as nice as this crap… A photo op with Dubya: whose bright idea was this?…”
Chelsea: “Three hours at the salon and now this… God, Ted got bald… Would it be really tacky if I Blackberry’d right now…”
George: “Oh, no. Who’s that with mom from Elf? Is it that turkey followin’ me?… I sure hope there’s ice cream after lunch. Condi promised me ice cream… Mandate. Man-date. Yeah, I guess I get it now. It is sorta funny.”
Categories
The O.C.: Your One and Only Friend
Yeah, you’ve kinda lost your edge. You’re still listening to that Spin Doctors CD from college and you couldn’t tell the difference between The Hives and The Vines if your life depended on it. (And back-channel al Qaeda chatter indicates that millions of Americans’ lives may, in fact, depend on knowing the difference between these two bands.)
That’s what’s so great about The O.C. You can feel cool again, plugged in. When you watch The O.C., you feel like one of the cool kids, instead of a paunchy, weak-kneed loser sliding into a wide, ugly middle age of quiet desperation, which is what you are.
But, man, for that hour The O.C. is on, you’re that kid in the front row at the pep rally, applauding for your incredibly cute girlfriend, the head cheerleader. Sometimes your dumb friends make jokes about her being the head cheerleader, but screw ’em, they’re just jealous. You guys are a good couple and nothing’s gonna come between you. I mean, not until college at least.
College is gonna be great. No parents! No dumb rules or homework! Will you pledge a fraternity? Maybe! Will you finally get to have a threesome? Maybe! Will you make friends for life who will support you, care about you, hook you up with awesome jobs when you graduate? Maybe!
Then again, maybe not. Those guys are so selfish. None of them return your calls and the last time you hung out with them, they made fun of your job, your Today’s Man suit, and your studio apartment. Such snobs. Maybe you should call that girl you dated in high school, that cheerleader you dumped freshman year of college when you were sure you’d be getting tons of dorm room nookie.
What, she’s married now? To whom? That guy from your fraternity? Goddamnit! Those jerks! Well, there’s always The O.C. Now you feel better, don’t you, ya fuckin’ loser?
Actually, I’ve never seen The O.C.; I’m sure it’s pretty good.
The O.C. airs at 8PM EST on FOX.
Earlier: O.C.D.; Obligatory Pop Culture Entry To Prove We Haven’t Become Humorless Prigs.
Howard Stern in Union Square, Nov. 18, 2004.
And the headline will be STERN FACED or SIRIUS EXPRESSION.
Mmmmmyah. May Burt Reynolds sell you a used bearskin rug. Call me Carnac.
Treasury Secretary John Snow in England, before throwing that little girl with the flowers into the river.
Related: Richard Kiel
Gentle Touch: “If you was in Texas, I’d fry you.”
Categories
The Source Awards
One of the most desperate tactics a journalist can resort to is using another journalist as a source. It’s even more desperate when the journalist used as a source is from the antipodal publication to your own, a publication whose credibility your worthless paper would never endorse were you not in a bad bind and really needed to flesh-out an unformed rehash of a story. But it’s really desperate when the journalist you use as a source is funnier and more effortlessly talented than you are, and upstages you with brio.
Take today’s New York Post, which features a not-so timely piece on whether or not Oliver Stone’s Alexander is too gay. Written by the Post‘s giddy answer to Walter Monheit, Jr., “Captain” Lou Lumenick, it’s called Light in the Sandals. (Get it? That’s, like, a joke about fags.)
After a few paragraphs of quoting from the trailer and citing articles previously published in Playboy and Entertainment Weekly (in the biz, we call this sort of shoe leather-preserving reporting “a rounder”), Lumenick gets someone on the horn:
“Village Voice columnist Michael Musto, who has long monitored homosexual behavior in Hollywood films, says they tend to shy away from showing the physical aspects of gay love, especially when major stars are involved.
‘This film tries to have it both ways, like Alexander himself,’ Musto said.”
See, this is the problem with resorting to this sort of lame, lazy journalism. In one well-turned, humorous phrase, Michael Musto steals his equally alliterative interviewer Lou Lumenick’s article right out from under him. (I also like how Lumenick makes his source sound like some sort of anthropologist of gay Hollywood, endowed, as it were, with a grant from the N.E.H.)
Lumenick probably sought out Musto for his years of experience dispensing soundbites like that on VH1 and any show that will cover his steep per diem (zip, as it turns out), but if Lumenick were a real journalist, he would’ve just stolen Musto’s joke and called it his own. That’s how the pros do it.
Related: More gay Oliver Stone news from today’s Post.
Categories
We Invented the Remix
Mean People Suck: Yeah, we think we’re better than this, too.
Categories
Southern Fried Gothic
Do you like to cry while you eat? Does every flavor you taste remind you of what flawed, complicated people your parents were? Are you a stout Southern gentleman with the temperament of a drill sergeant but the heart of a poet?
Have we got a cookbook for you! Introducing, The Pat Conroy Cookbook: Recipes of My Life.
You’ll savor the bitterness of The Great Santini Steak Au Poivre. You’ll marvel at The Lords of Discipline Dumplings. And you don’t want to miss The Prince of Tides Salmon, salted to taste—just like your tears.
Order now and receive a free canister of My Losing Season seasoning spread, guaranteed to make your meal a mass market masterpiece!
Available now at a train station or airport bookstore near you.