McSweeney’s Internet Tendency: Your Patriarchy is the Reason We Can’t Have Nice Things: Scenes from a Feminist Youth.
A parable, of sorts. Wherein MOM admonishes a pre-pubescent ME that “You can’t get what you want by sitting on the lap of some sweaty fat guy.”
Occasionally when I was younger I would do something fun and free-spirited, like staying up all night, getting drunk on the beach, and skinny dipping in the sea, and I’d try very hard to convince myself, This must be fun! I’m having fun! This, right now, is fun! But it turns out that constantly pretending you’re having fun is even more tiring than staying up all night drinking. I’d rather go apple picking. I am so into apple picking.
'Crack is destroying the black community. Crack is destroying the ghetto.' Like the ghetto was so nice before crack. They say that shit like everybody in the 'hood had a mansion, a yacht, and a swimming pool, then crack came and dried it all up. [Chris Rock: Bring the Pain, 1996]
We got so much food in America we’re allergic to food. … Hungry people ain’t allergic to shit. You think anyone in Rwanda’s got a fucking lactose intolerance? [Chris Rock: Bring the Pain, 1996]
You don’t need no gun control. You know what you need? We need some bullet control. … I think all bullets should cost $5000. $5000 for a bullet. You know why? ‘Cause if a bullet costs $5000, there’d be no more innocent bystanders. … Every time someone gets shot, people will be like, ‘Damn, he must have did something. He put $50,000 worth of bullets in his ass!’ Niggas will say ‘I would blow your fucking head off–if I could afford it! I’m gonna get me another job, I’m gonna start saving some money, and then you’re dead man!. You better hope I can’t get no bullets on layaway!’ [Chris Rock: Bigger and Blacker, 1999]
Kids always act up the most before they go to sleep. And when I see the Tea Party and all this stuff, it actually feels like racism’s almost over. Because this is the last — this is the act up before the sleep. They’re going crazy. They’re insane. You want to get rid of them — and the next thing you know, they’re fucking knocked out. And that’s what’s going on in the country right now. [Esquire, 2011]
Make an observation.
Take a photo of it with your phone. Apply cool looking image filter, tweak with selective blurring, and then share via Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, your blog, etc.
Provide a trite but punchy comment that explains your observation. This is your hypothesis. OMG!
Wait for comments. This begins peer review.
Break time! Catch up on celebrity gossip!
I remember, I think, the first time that I knew him when it was his birthday, I sent him an e-mail that said “57???? Isn’t it about time that you got a proper job? Ricky Gervais, 42, comedian.” He sent back: “I have a proper job. David Bowie, 57, Rock God.”
….I do that all the time! I do it all the time. If you can’t joke about the most horrendous things in the world, what’s the point of jokes? What’s the point in having humor? Humor is to get us over terrible things. That’s all it’s for. That’s why you should laugh at funerals. Of course it’s the wrong thing to say. That’s why it’s funny.
….Everything I’ve done has been existential. Everything, really. Everything is always about, “Am I living a good life? Am I making the most of my life?” Even Flanimals [Gervais’s series of children’s books featuring surreal invented animals] is about the futility of existence and deconstructing nature.
McSweeney’s Internet Tendency: Nate Silver Offers Up a Statistical Analysis of Your Failing Relationship.
In an exit poll from Monday evening, exactly one half of the duo in attendance said they had an unfavorable opinion of the chosen restaurant—Arby’s—wondering if it was some sort of retribution, or if this is sadly what it’s come to.
I hope you Apple Geniuses are up to snuff because I’m pretty sure my iPad’s busted. No matter how much I use it to check email, surf the web, or tag photos on Facebook, I’m still gnawed at by a horrifying emptiness that no amount of fiddling with your magical gadget can fill.
I can’t wait to be old, married and bitter.