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American Innovation - I think this is the article James - JR references, which is troubling. Because it's the Onion, and this indicates my new correspondent is not the best at differentiating between fact and fiction. Which makes his "I may or may not be a fictional character" comment less amusing, and more ominous.

Mark Them Calenders

Enjoy the next segment in "Fuck it, I'm busy" as I summarize From a Buick 8, by Stephen King, for your lack of reading enjoyment.

Trying to get a leg up on Toyota, Buick creates a car with more mayhem potential than a toddler with a stick. Then they park it at a gas station in rural Pennsylvania and leave. Some state cops end up with the car, and quickly discover it's magic, super science, or both (probably both, it is Stephen King writing this). After it transports a beloved officer to another world, which he never returns from, the troopers of Troop D decide that Jesus wants them keep the Tardis and turn scientist.

This group of hick cops spends several decades staring at it through dirty windows in the shed where they stashed it, using it to kill small animals, and as a bitchin' 4th of Juluau fireworks display. The experiments they conduct focus mainly on vomiting and murder, and later on telling all this as a long, rambling story to a kid who wanted to hear stories about his dead father. But to be fair, it is a Friday night in rural Pennsylvania.

Realizing that the alien machine should be turned over to proper authorities, destroyed, or just not be in the hands of a bunch of dipshits who often forget they have it, the kid takes Plan B (wink). The cop telling the story stops him, and the end.

Seriously, though.

Podcast returns tomorrow (I still have three minutes until it's technically Sunday) with a new correspondent! We're very excited to have him, and hope you will enjoy his rambling, psychotic dissertations as well.

News?

Moving to Texas (did I mention that?) was long, arduous, and worst of all my route included Arkansas, the worst state in any Union, ever. I think we included it because it cried and Wyoming wouldn't shut up about how mean the rest of the states were being.

Worse, but not worst, was moving Bill down here too. He is a heavy bastard, and he conveniently evaded having to help (even moving his own shit) by being dead. Again! It doesn't help that Texas has fewer witch doctors than Kentucky did, and bringing him back to life took forever. But, here he is, and apparently he learned about "the internet" while in the afterlife-ish. Not sure what he thought I was doing with his reports before now, unless he has a more deluded sense of self-worth than I thought, and believed they were on television or something.

I bitch, but he is the best reporter I can afford right now.

Bill is on Twitter, because that's a thing, and he's already following Anderson Cooper, so I'm sure we'll see a lawsuit for defamation of character or outright libel at some point. If you want to follow Bill, search

morebetternews

or just Bill Summerson. And Godspeed. You'll need it.

Good news, Everyone

This is for Everyone, not for you.

The podcast returns this Sunday, with special news. Until then, updates containing various content with smarmy titles.

I'm considering this as a new segment, called: "Fuck it, I'm busy". In it, I'll summarize recent books, movies, and other fun things that you don't have time for, taking them upon myself instead. This week, Oblivion, starring Tom Cruise, Morgan Freeman, British Wife, and Space Wife.

To summarize Oblivion:

The spaceghost of Steve Jobs travels ten thousand years into the future and creates the ultimate, spacefaring Ipod. However, it loses control, and the Ipod travels back to save the Land Before Time, but is too late to rescue Littlefoot. And since, even in the future, Apple is kind of an asshole company, the Ipod decides that content for earth should be restricted to Tom Cruise and the babies he'll make with the hottest British woman Americans will see, outside of Amy Pond's actress.

It also drains the sea, because whales.

Morgan Freeman makes a delightful cameo as Space Christ, even though no one seems sure exactly why he's there. In the end, we are left thinking that Tom would have been better off with British Wife, as Space Wife is kind of a slut, and the baby he makes with her is fucking ugly.

Check back in a day or two, once I think up something else.

Things to Hate

I felt I had a pretty good run with laziness, then this happened.

Twilight is God's punishment for a sinful world (even if you've never read the book you have to deal with the people who either a) LOVE IT!!!!! or b) object to people loving it). Presumably, 50 Shades of Grey is the devil just fucking with us. Like Job, but crueler. And after reading the synopsis for the latter novel, I've found out you can hate a book you've never read.

Synopsis: a brief or condensed statement giving a general view of some subject. Regarding novels, equal parts sales pitch and summary. It has to make you want the book, by providing enough information to be useful, yet still intrigue the reader. A few examples: 

Harry Potter: Wizard kid fights magic Hitler.

Watership Down: dire prophecy drives rabbits to find a new warren, where they fight Rabbit Hitler.

The Lord of the Rings: Unusual heroes quest to destroy Satan-Hitler's source of power. 

With that in mind, let's review 50 Shades's solely by its synopsis.

"Romantic, liberating and totally addictive, Fifty Shades of Grey is a novel that will obsess you, possess you, and stay with you for ever."
 
Ballsy claims, but hey, go big or go home.

"When literature student Anastasia Steele interviews successful entrepreneur Christian Grey, she finds him very attractive and deeply intimidating" 

Aaand I'm already angry. Aside from the retardedly vague "successful entrepreneur" bit, the second part of the sentence breaks the one rule you shouldn't - show, don't tell. It's strange that this line made it past the editors and into the synopsis, because it makes the novel sound like shitty fanfic- oh. Anyway, it wouldn't surprise me if the first lines of the book were "Christian Grey sat across from Anastasia, and she felt a deep attraction to him, yet also intimidated." Because fuck description, right?

"Convinced that their meeting went badly, she tries to put him out of her mind – until he turns up at the store where she works part-time, and invites her out.

Unworldly and innocent, Ana is shocked to find she wants this man. And, when he warns her to keep her distance, it only makes her want him more."

Plot problems. Plot problems in the goddam synopsis. Grey looks her up, asks her out, then tells her to fuck off? What? Has stupid bullshit gone airborne? And while all romance novels cater to a select audience, the fanfic vibe is even stronger here. Steele (I can't say her first name again, it kills me), inexplicably interviewing a businessman while being an English major, is convinced the plot's not going to happen. Grey shows up to make it goddam happen, saving our heroine from making a decision. Then he says no, thanks, but coherent storytelling isn't a high priority.  And we're back to the beginning of the book.

"But Grey is tormented by inner demons, and consumed by the need to control. As they embark on a passionate love affair, Ana discovers more about her own desires, as well as the dark secrets Grey keeps hidden away from public view …"

If there is a god, he's not on our side.

Telling rather than showing in that first sentence. Other than that, this would actually work as a synopsis if it stood alone. Unfortunately, it reverses the decisions of the last paragraph, and provides no context for the change. As we already know Grey pushed Steele away, the "passionate love affair" sounds like so much wish-fulfillment, and has as much credibility as a thirteen-year-old hiding a crusty sock. And fuck you, guy, for pulling "Ana" out. No. If her name is going to be as terrible as "Anastasia" you fucking well call her that. Shortening it is for pussies who committed to a retarded name before they thought it through.

And with this handy review, we now conclude that 50 Shades  must be a terrible book, because Jesus, lookit it. If they couldn't keep their shit together for three paragraphs specifically designed to make the book look good, what chance does it have?

 

B===D--- A new love story by Shakespeare

My own particular bullshit

A friend recently posted a note that he is dissatisfied with the current political state, and (perhaps jokingly) suggested he would run for president when he is eligible. I know and like this guy (to prerequisites for being friends) and I've thought along similar lines. Why, if America is in such dire straits that we can't get a budget passed without a political showdown, should I not throw my hat in the ring and magically make it all better?

I think this is like the idea people get in their heads when they can make their buddies laugh - "I should go into comedy". "I can talk about politics - maybe I should run for office." And with as much shit as I'll talk about both parties, maybe I should insert money where I've previously only put my mouth.

Hmmm. I guess that homoerotic innuendo fits. Anyone who talks such has tasted at least the tip of the glorious, glittery cock of corporate media politics. And that's the problem. If I went in, as I am now, putting aside the ludicrously low chance of winning (and complete lack of knowledge of how to win) I'd be like a liberal Tea Party. And that's not helpful (the motto of this podcast is, of course, "Fuck it and fuck you").

And if I could put aside my anger and recalcitrance, I'd at best end up like any other politician. I don't like the anti-gay-marriage laws in place, but they're coming down, albeit slowly. That, apparently, is how things work in a democracy. The people support the bad laws their representatives create, until they don't, and then the laws are overturned. As tempting as it would be to try and "fix" everything, even if it were possible (and it's not) it wouldn't be the will of the people. You can't make people be good or kind. At best, you can try to keep them from getting worse.

And that's assuming I didn't become corrupt. I know myself moderately well, and I, like many others, see myself as the hero, never the villain. It's usually not until after the fuck up that I realize I was a real douchetard. And even that level of introspection doesn't fly in politics. You've got to be right, someone else has to be wrong, or you won't stand a chance. And if you can't get elected, not only will your brilliant vision not come to pass, but some bastard's horrible plan will be implemented. So tell a little lie. Exaggerate a bit. It's all for the greater good (and hey, you can make a few bucks off of it).

This, then, is my own particular brand of bullshit; Famous Anus, of course. For all your baking needs.

Update:

Of course, I do think some of my friends are suited for helping run the country well. Here's a prototype campaign poster I thunk up:

He keeps his campaign promises.

I think I is broken

I've talked before about vidyergeeme morals and such, but I think I'm broken now. Spec Ops: the Line started my descent and now Dishonored has destroyed my ability to indiscriminately murder.

It's tough to rationalize.

In Bioshock you have to kill a fuckload of people, but it's cool, they're junkies. They attack you. The choices made are between being a cock and not being a cock (which doesn't actually make you a good person). This is true for most games: the player is thrust into a situation which requires a healthy pile of bodies to surmount.

Spec Ops is the same way, but it asserts that, because you, the player, chose to play the game at all you are fundamentally flawed as a human being. The protagonists have no choice but to follow player commands and the story, but the person behind them loaded that shit up. The story reflects this, as every decision to move forward, to pursue the mission, is met with harsher consequences. You are punished for playing the thing the developers made for you to play, and you deserve it.

Dishonored takes it a step further, or perhaps simply reinforces the terrible feeling I have from killing nameless minions. It's a stealth game, but it doesn't have to be. You can gleefully murder your way through everyday people doing their jobs. They stand in your way, but, as with Spec Ops, the decision to confront them this way makes you awful. I can't play without wandering who I've widowed (something the guards specifically mention), and early on the Outsider gives you a fucking heart that tells you secrets about people. That guy? He wanted to open a gift shop. She makes ten cents an hour and is paying off her father's debts. You're a monster.

There are videogames that don't require you to harm anyone, but they're typically kid games. Violence is a part of the medium, same as with books and movies. What's interesting (and the reason I feel like a bastard) is that you don't feel responsible when Gimli or Legolas decapitate an orc, when Dorothy smooshes the Wicked Witch (or goddam melts her sister). But in a videogame, regardless of what the story requires, the player makes more decisions in the narrative, even if the only decision is to play the character.