Monthly Archive for April, 2007

BREAKING, AND WE MEAN IT THIS TIME

We just received the following press release anonymously in our e-mail in box. Lest anyone accuse of stirring up controversy for blog traffic, I’d like to remind you that this post clearly makes much more sense than we usually do, so that rules us out. We’re being honest for once, even if we have poisoned the well with our usual deep, deep unseriousness. I would also add that we’re risking our actual lives here being destroyed by f***ing missiles to post this.

From: "JPF2DWC4VP4PRC4C4C4L" [REDACTED]
To: [REDACTED]
Date: Sat, 29 Apr 2007 23:57:32 -0700
Subject: FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE: WANG CHUNG, DARK HORSE CANDIDATE, ALIGHTS
>AIRWOLF IS NO KIND OF VICE PRESIDENT
>
>VICE PRESIDENT CHENEY IS LIKE A LITTLE BABY IN HIS IRON WOMB
>
>AMERICA NEEDS A REAL VICE PRESIDENT TO SECRETLY CONTROL THE LEVERS OF POWER
>
>AMERICA NEEDS A VICE PRESIDENT THAT CAN STAB A MAN IN THE FACE WITH HIS MIND: NO
>COMPROMISES
>
>AMERICA NEEDS A VICE PRESIDENT DEEP IN THE WORLD TONIGHT
>
>AMERICA NEEDS WANG CHUNG TONIGHT... AND TOMORROW.
>
>DRAFT WANG CHUNG FOR VICE PRESIDENT: THE TERRORISTS WILL NOT HAVE ALREADY WON
>
>paid for on the edge of oblivion by a ship of fools sailing on towards drafting wang chung as
>vice presidential nominee of the people's revolutionary council for centrism for connecticut for
>lieberman

I’m not joking about this. Will The Editors, currently running for president on the Editors/Airwolf ’08 ticket, actually respond to this apparently popular movement? Does the purportedly so-moderate-he-eats-tuna-safe-dolphin-just-to-be-fair give a FIG about the grass and netroots campaign for him to balance his ticket with an entity so moderate as to be inclusive of everyone?

We certainly don’t expect to hear anything about this on “serious” sites such as Talking Points “I Love Airwolf and Intend for Airworf to Sire my Helicopter Babies” Memo, but will Atrios, who has been following this race closely deign to comment? It certainly does seem that Atrios is the power behind the throne of moderacy, notwithstanding comments to the contrary.

Already we can hear the hue and cry in the streets…Everybody…WANG CHUNG..tonight!

Progress Proceeds Apace

Whatever that means.

We are still accepting entries to our header contest. We already have some great ones, and would love some more.

I have been kicking around some mild annoyances/social critiquing of our tiny internet universe, but can’t quite form a post that doesn’t look like I am just pooping on everyone. Given that our lovely arena of personal expression is now being driven by market forces and becoming a much larger cesspool of the usual crowd pathologies, I start to be constantly degraded by particular content providers, even if I have once been having super crushes on them. I’ll be anonymous for now, and you can fill in the blanks yourselves, or just lie to yourselves and answer Three Bulls! to everything, and not just the ones we deserve.

1) Name misspellers . Of those people writing wonderfully about policy and our current political culture, who generally are nailing it, I just can’t abide the misspelling of people’s names. These names one only knows from reading them somewhere on the internet, thus their spelling should be quite easy. Please don’t spell Hitchens as “Hitchins” or Beinart as “Beinert.” These are not names you ever hear, only names that you see. Why come across so lazily?

2) One track rantmotrons/phoner-inners. NOT A CRITICISM of Somerby. The Howler has been must read for the last several months, as I expect it will be for the next year. I’m more talking about people that built names for themselves providing interesting and thoughtful extended posts about particular aspects of their craft, much to the erudition and delight of their readers. Now, nothing is ever covered, really, except occasional reposts of great old material, while seemingly automated posts calling idiots idiots are the rule, rather than the exception. They provide even less ass than we do.

3) Fake phoner-inners. Certain bloggers that actually nicely provide effort and quality content, all the while affecting complete aloofness, concomitant with complaints about non-engagement from readers. Admit that you put some effort into your posts, hang out in your own comments interacting with folks that you practically beg to show up, instead of kind of sending the message that no effort is really worth it, especially efforts by less cooler than thou regular commenting joes. The Editors, Generalissimo of calculated yet humorous aloofness comments more on his own blog than you did on yours. Take a break and then get back on your horse, or not. Would we be committing a hipster faux pas if we said we missed you and like your stuff?? We actually really do like you.

4) Sociopathic (all of us) commenters. You know, the people that act like a particular blog is their beloved high school football team. People that are really only mimicking what they think they should be saying, like most anyone that ventures to say anything whatsoever about, say, the NFL draft, or NASCAR, or Bassmaster Professional Fishing. We are all the same. There are certain unexamined corners of our lives where we might just get cliquish or clannish or what have you, but it is certainly annoying to have to watch train wreck quality discussions everyday. Take for example a blog run by experts in a field, with non-expert commenters. Perhaps a very much qualified but anonymous expert might show up in comments with a polite yet slightly critical take on a post by an expert blogger, something that might actually engender a discussion. Oops, on come the attack dogs with the “I don’t see you commenting here regularly” or “concern troll” or “something so stupid and inexpert that to even engage with it would be a several ridiculous hours wasted.” At some level, in all social interactions we are all just plugging in prewritten social algorithms around arbitrary topics of complete stupidity (any beloved pastime, my own included). Some of us have at least a minimal ability to attempt either objectivity, or at least somewhat dispassionate discourse. Others don’t. I root for Jeff Gordon in NASCAR, specifically to increase the suffering of this type of person.

5) Sexist Choads. Sexism if of course the most common allowable/tolerated ism within our web log world and also of course our real one. There are many incredibly funny, talented and smart dudes out there who occasionally or perhaps more than occasionally just completely sh*t the bed with mind-clangingly unfunny, totally sexist posts. And they don’t even see it.

6) Total hypocrisy. You’re soaking in it, and so are we. There are always instances where perhaps people can be called to the carpet for various humorous or non-humorous posts, as it were, regarding giant sandwiches, vaginas, wieners, isms multiple and varied. And many times they certainly should be, but since there is clearly an inability to enforce the law, maybe these style posts should be written in different ways, such that perhaps a problem or practice can be exposed, but more generally, so there can be a discussion or perhaps room for contemplation and/or contrition on the part of an offender. I could easily think of a million ways to attack a certain hilarious video of Ms. Ann Altmouse discussing her critics based on apparent blogospheric (and real world) hot buttons. In this case, it appeared that the humor received a green light from many sources, perhaps leading to a false demarcation of where the gray area actually is.

7) Wandering, illogically demarcated posts in the form of lists by certain bloggers. Bloggers that can’t or won’t bother to collect their thoughts in a clear or concise fashion, instead opting for meta-clarity and rambling pseudo-intellectualism. Even if there is a nugget of possible truth, the rest is so muddled (OR IS IT??), the post is rendered unlinkable, if even read by anyone.

8) False modesty or ironic self-criticism. See above (OR SHOULD YOU???).

9) Useless or imprisoned co-bloggers. Mysterious bloggers that never post, or perhaps don’t even own computers, or are currently accidentally blogging in the anti-verse with stupid goatees. Get over yourselves. F***, you are the most annoying of all.

A Grave Situation

It has come to my attention that Three Bulls! is in danger of cancellation. Some critics feel the format is stale and change is needed. Network executives point out that our readership ages by the day in all age brackets. What can be done to help us save Three Bulls so that Three Bulls can save you from being helped on an intermittent indeterminate future basis. Nothing could be clearer or more starkly real than the possible outcomes. Sweet, sweet release and nothingness OR we can try to save our show. To be saved, the first step will be to engage the readers with real (Kathleen?) or imaginary swag (Chuckles?). Second, new features. Third, actual posts. Fourth, HEADER CONTEST!!!!!!!!!!!!

WOW!

The specs are 1000 pixels wide by 235-240 tall. [plover adds: they are really 970×235] 3bulls at gmail dot com for questions and entries.

Also, new feature:

Anytime, anywhere, commenters are encouraged to channel Orrin Hatch shilling about whatever topic is being currently discussed.

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Three Bulls! Scavenger Hunt Disgusting Contest!

Here are the rules: pick a national food/restaurant chain. First person to pick a chain that submits it in comments gets to find the unhealthiest, most disgusting anti-nutritional meal at that restaurant (one appetizer, entree w/ advertised sides, dessert, drink). Most disgusting wins! While I suspect there will be a run on Applebees, we’re taking Ruby Tuesday with the first pick. EVERYBODY needs to participate. Trust me, you will shock the crap out of yourselves, although I suspect Fulsome will merely get hungry.


UPDATE
The only person that will actually eat this stuff besides me, will be Chuckles or Fulsome. On a triple dog dare. The goal is to find the most atrocious example of corporate food scumbags trying to make sweet love to the heart disease lobby. Too bad Cheesecake Factory doesn’t put their nutritional info online. I woulda picked them in a delicious and deadly non-heartbeat.

So About 50 Posts Full of Awesome Content

Have totally been eaten. Since we actually pay for our hosting instead of freeloading of some freeloading service just so we can complain how freely it sucks, we slave away bringling (not a typo) you multimedia entertainment at the cost to you of pennies of brainpower a day and the cost to us of slightly more than that. It has come to my attention that our anti-matter alteregos of the goatee wearing Mirror, Mirror dimension have been posting at exactly the same time, and the matter and anti-matter posts have been obliterating each other. Due to some ununderstood assymmetry (not a typo) in the nature of particulate physics, our universe wins and there is a slow bleed of content.

Also, where the heck is everyone? I realize the world is on hold waiting for the swag to be released, and I am releasing it now.

I am also so secretly filled with rage at the entirety of our ridiculous media culture from the last week that I really don’t have anything to say (that hasn’t been unfortunately obliterated).

That is all.

Let’s play inquisitors and heretics!

Once upon a time…

A: Let’s play inquisitors and heretics.
B: I am the great inquisitor Turkeymama! All minions of Satan fear my holy sword!
A: Hey! Why do you always get to be the inquisitor?

B: My holy sword has led me to your lair, foul heretic. Prepare to meet your doom!
A: You have fallen into my trap! Mr. Pony, Boba Fett, and Velociraptor are here too. You are surrounded!
B: But I have the, uh [*poit*] Holy Dandelion. Look! Their heads are spinning around! They are getting exercised!
A: Boba Fett’s head came off…
B: Again? Curse you Satan!

As the theory goes, open up a can of Richard Dawkins, and…

A: Let’s play inquisitors and heretics.
B: I am the great heretic Bertie Rubble! All superstitious fanatics fear my dauntless reason!
A: Hey! Why do you always get to be the heretic?

B: My powers of deduction told me which cathedral you were hiding in, foul inquisitor. Prepare to be disillusioned!
A: You have fallen into my trap! Mr. Pony, Boba Fett, and Velociraptor are here too. You are surrounded!
B: But I have the, uh [*poit*] Dandelion Reason Ray. Look! Their heads are spinning around! They are in lightning!
A: Boba Fett’s head came off…
B: Again? See what your superstitions do!

Dawkins: Reason Ray?

I Just Can’t Bring Myself

To write a post. The swagwagon circles Kathleen but she denies the swag.

I accidentally heard 12 seconds of the new R. Kelly song. Words fail me. Trust me, if there were a video of him pissing on a little boy we wouldn’t be having to deal with him still. Our society is irredeemably misogynistic on countless levels. I would add that I consistently shudder at even conceiving of an R. Kelly behavior that would serve as a pretext for removing this hitmaking machine from the airwaves. Someone would most likely have to die, and my suffering isn’t that bad. Extending the metaphor to our cobag in chief, we can determine that he R. Kelly’d New Orleans, Iraq and various swathes of government. Sounds like a glass half empty situation. Let’s turn that frown upside down- wow! What a bladder!

CUTE ATTACK

These little dudes just pooped on yr carpet, and you didn’t care! Stolen from the interwebs, we needed a little something to start the week. Also, Alberto Gonzales might do well to show pictures of these guys while he’s perjuring himself. Just a little distraction, can you see Hatch trying to belabor the point about how cute these guys are and how nobody can question the integrity of such little guys.

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Les Pantaloons des Serieuse

TMBG-Your Racist Friend

This is where the party ends
I can’t stand here listening to you
And your racist friend
I know politics bore you
But I feel like a hypocrite talking to you
And your racist friend

It was the loveliest party that I’ve ever attended
If anything was broken I’m sure it could be mended
My head can’t tolerate this bobbing and pretending
Listen to some bullet-head and the madness that he’s saying

This is where the party ends
I’ll just sit here wondering how you
Can stand by your racist friend
I know politics bore you
But I feel like a hypocrite talking to you
You and your racist friend

This is where the party ends
I can’t stand here listening to you
And your racist friend
I know politics bore you
But I feel like a hypocrite talking to you
And your racist friend

Out from the kitchen to the bedroom to the hallway
Your friend apologizes, he could see it my way
He let the contents of the bottle do the thinking
Can’t shake the devil’s hand and say you’re only kidding

The Nausea

is becoming indistinguishable from everyday existence. I find I could find certain karmic religious notions palatable, perhaps if those eternally deserving, those perpetrating their crimes out of nothing but choice, might get their certain and obvious due. Sadly, I can only think of something perpetrated upon my person by Professor Booty, his having forced me to watch the episode of Oz where Schillinger gets it from what’s his name in the prison weight room.