Gun-totin', Chronic-smokin' Hearse Initiator (ludickid) wrote,
Gun-totin', Chronic-smokin' Hearse Initiator

So, where have I been?

Busy, and likely to remain that way. For the foreseeable future. Still, here's a big-ass entry free of consequence.



- The voting for most fearsome General Mills monster cereal was surprisingly close, but ultimately, you decided that punch-flavored werewolf Fruit Brute would emerge victorious from a battle royale of the sugary breakfast foods spokescreatures. Which means you think that a wolf-man could beat a ghost, a mummy, a promethean, and a vampire. Which means you're nuts.

- An overwhelming majority of you selected George W. Bush as the worst president in American history. How much of this is straight-up recognition of Bush's shitty governance and how much is trendy in-the-nowness is hard to discern, especially given that Ronald Reagan came in second, and that the mind-bendingly corrupt Warren G. "The Deregulator" Harding and the devil-in-human-shape Richard M. Nixon only got one vote each. But the fact remains, ain't many people on my friends list think W. is much of a leader.

- A cowardly 48% of you declined to answer the question about your drug intake for fears that your comments could be used against you in court, like this was MySpace or something. Nearly 25% of you are wimpy little milk babies who think you're too good to shove poison into any available orifice out of sheer boredom. Of those responding, a whopping half of you copped to smoking the zoot weed, with acid (described by Kurt Anderson as "the most subversive substance ever invented") a distant second at 30%. Cocaine was surprisingly popular, and speed surprisingly not; I am apparently the only person here who's ever smoked PCP. You people don't know what you're missing, but unfortunately, due to all the brain damage and memory loss, neither do I.

- Non-lottery players greatly outnumbered lottery players, but despite a quartet of promises, only one of you had anything scolding and self-righteous to say about it. I therefore am abandoning my plan to post a scolding, self-righteous post in favor of playing the lottery. Which I didn't win, again, this week.

- The most popular "guilty pleasure" answer was from you self-satisfied snots who claimed that there's no reason to feel guilty about doing things you enjoy, which answer was widely considered unconvincing when John Wayne Gacy gave it. Also, a number of you seem to feel guilty about liking things that are critically acclaimed, like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Kelly Clarkson's new album, and (inexplicably) Bright Eyes. There were a lot of good candidates, like the first five Police Academy movies, all things Spice Girls, and killing hoboes, but I'm going to confer winner status on steakumms, who cops to liking not just "70s pseudo-Zeppelin Heart", but also "80s vagina ballad Heart".


The weekend was lovely, spent in the Twin Cities with my amazing gal ninafarina and her kiddo. We celebrated a late family Christmas, and I sat around drinking beer and watching football just like a real live heterosexual American male. I felt like I was letting down my gender by not actually understanding anything about the football games, but I did get into an argument about baseball, so there was that. We also helped her sister and brother-in-law move, cleaned up Annie's billion kerjillion presents, ate some good solid Afghani food, had fondue at her parents' house, and generally enjoyed each others' company. On the way back, my dad called me on my cell phone in the middle of a snowstorm to discuss buying a new computer for his wife while a state patrolman bird-dogged me. I head up again in two weeks to visit Shauna and Annie, and I miss them already, because that's just the way it is. They're hard to be away from.


Lileks is back from vacation too, and posting like crazy since he's got nothing better to do. In only the last two days he has cited Batman Begins as an artistic rebuke to rich environmentalists; claimed that Inherit the Wind was an artistic failure because the anti-evolution forces were not given enough intellectual credibility; credited a drawing of Thor to Jack Kirby even though it isn't by Jack Kirby; scolded a letter-writer to the Strib for thinking that getting blown up by right-wing militia nuts is as bad as getting blown up by al-Q'aeda; and informed us that he'd rather live next door to Ned Flanders than anyone else on The Simpsons. He's a treat, our Jimmy.


Town Hall is likewise barrels of fun, with Jennifer Roback Morse writing about how American women need to fuck more in order to protect the west from the ravages of Islam, Burt Prelusky pointing out that the French smell bad, are lousy at fighting, and cursed the world with their pretentious auteur theory, and Dennis "My Son's Black Friend Has a Jewish Friend, That Is To Say, My Son" Prager saying that the world is a better place when Israelis are free to exact morally upstanding revenge against the remorseless, inhuman Palestinians. I'd go into more detail, but it makes my head hurt these days to read these gasbags.


- Why does everyone talk about Michael J. Fox as if he's a great actor who's made some kind of enormous contribution to the craft? Do people just feel sorry for him because he has a disease? As far as I can tell, his major contribution is building an entire career out of that "smack your forehead with your hand, then run your hand through your thinning hair in order to convey exasperation" gesture. (That gesture later gave the world Christian Slater, who always gets called a Jack Nicholson imitator when he's really something far worse, a Michael J. Fox imitator.)

- Is anyone but me kinda obsessed with the comic strip "9 Chickweed Lane"? It's got halfway decent art and good design (though often the effect is spoiled by bizarro angles that are tossed in for no reason), but it's also driven by this very strange writing style that seems to be going for extremely mild whimsy and a sort of pedantic, crosseyed irksomeness rather than actual humor. I can't figure the thing out. I keep reading it every day, hoping I will someday crack the code and it will make sense, but it remains impenetrable. I guess it's good to know that there's a market for things that seem like they're supposed to be funny but aren't, but I am clearly not part of the target demographic. I'm not sure who is. People who wish Woody Allen had taken over "Gasoline Alley", maybe.

- New Ludic Log reboot: COMING THE HELL SOON! You should be so excited, because if this journal, with its semi-humor, pseudo-insight and quasi-opinion is valuable to you, then you'll love the new Ludic Log, which will be updated non-regularly, much like this journal, but at least will have more jokes and a better design layout, thanks to calamityjon.
Tags: annie, diary, politics, shauna, trivium

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