Currently viewing the tag: "bitter"

Greetings from the cement slab

By On November 15, 2010 · In Adipocere

Last night Maud (with Max reluctantly in tow) came over to watch Sarah Palin’s Alaska, a show so insipid that a link to its TLC website would be as useless as tits on a boar. You don’t care about this show and you don’t need to learn anything more about it than you already know. As the opening credits rolled, N joked that we should make up a drinking game but frankly, that would’ve resulted at least one of us being airlifted to a hospital for acute alcohol poisoning. A preferable game would’ve been Russian roulette. Losing outcome: You have to watch the rest of Sarah Palin’s Alaska.

Anyhow, more on that some other time.

I started the rest of this post so long ago that it’s about Henry Rollins and his stupid tirade at the Cakeshop here in NYC. This stopped being relevant a week ago, but oh well. I’m fucking lazy.

If you don’t feel like watching it, the great Nitsuh Abebe has written a play-by-play of it.

Maybe some folks in the punk scene are bored with him that way. Random kids at this particular venue, though, are not likely to care. They are not as annoyed by their elders as punks like Rollins used to be. And to most of them, he is just a guy who was in a legendary punk band (Black Flag), was painted red on MTV when they were kids (Liar), and likes to talk a lot. He is no more in the way than, say, Betty White is in the way of younger actresses. The only person in this room freaking out about Henry Rollins’s cred is Henry Rollins.

Witness Rollins’ sad display of insecurity. And his weird grope-y and chauvinistic behavior. And the ultimate reflexive irony of a tattooed, posturing millionaire accusing a woman (whoops, I mean “chick”) of being a tattooed trust-fund hipster. I don’t doubt that the woman who shouted “Get in the van!” was doing it to goad him. (Had I been there, I’d have been tempted to shout something stupid at him too. But it would probably be either “Hey guys, the lead singer from the Misfits is here!” or “Look, it’s the 6th lead singer of Black Flag!”) But fucking RISE ABOVE, Henry. Don’t take the bait. Don’t use your companion as some sort of Integrity Shield. And for fuck’s sake, keep your hands off of women you barely know. (To me, the most uncomfortable moments in that video are when Rollins grabs onto Neshat like she was about to float off into space and I swear, her shoulders visibly stiffen. Or maybe that’s transference, because mine are stiffening right now as I type this.)

Remember this, Henry. We won’t be calling your integrity into question because you’re “old” and “in the way.” We will be calling you out for Johnny Mnemonic. For The Gap. FOR YOUR FAMOUS GRAMMY-WINNING SPOKEN WORD ALBUM.

Full disclosure: I am already on the record as considering Rollins a turgid, parochial moron.* I’ve always disliked him. Say what you will about Jello Biafra, but he hangs out with terminally ill kids (and not in the Tim Yohannon way, if you get what I’m saying**) and has never bragged about his FAMOUS BOOKS. I’m on Team Jello.

*Weirdly enough, the most brutal critique of that essay was almost totally focused on my hatred of Henry Rollins and why it was so wrong of me and I’m an idiot and Rollins is a god and I will bet you $5 that the shitbag who wrote it beats off on the regular to that Rollins Cakeshop video. (You see what I did there?)
**Nothing like some micro-scene slandering of a dead guy, right?

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All of my hobbies are addictions*

By On November 5, 2010 · In As I Am Now

I have a lot of flaws. Here’s today’s flaw:

You all know my musical tastes in general. Like, I like scratchy recordings of long-dead guys playing rotted-out guitars with only five strings and a broken neck or some beyond-esoteric British band that recorded an EP that was released on the same day they died in a tragic fiery wreck on their way to play a show in Wigan or something.

And if you do know me you also know that I have a ridiculous aversion to anything deemed hip or popular by, for example, Vice or Pitchfork. (I don’t think this makes me cool; I would classify it as another one of my flaws but am not sure you can consider “being an asshole” a simple flaw.) I can’t control it. When you see those people with Tourette’s Syndrome talk about their tics on the Discovery Channel they often describe them as being almost impossible to ignore, like an itch. And so when aforementioned publications are all excited about some band, I’m like, That band sucks and if you like them you suck too and I hope terrorists bomb their next show RAAAAAAAAAAAH!

So now I must shame-facedly admit that I downloaded the Salem album (off Mediafire, for free, if that makes it any better) and it is so completely anathema to me. I’m sorry. I like Salem.**

Tom*** says that there’s less than zero justification for this unless I’m dating a 15-year-old.

*True story: I said this to someone at a cocktail party, about five minutes after I’d met him, in response to, “So, what are your interests?” I don’t actually remember saying it, but he wrote it down and showed it to me at the next cocktail party I saw him at. I considered hiring him to be my factotum but I don’t really traffic much in witticisms anymore.
**Butt magazine interview. NSFW. I’m not linking to MySpace.
***Who is willing to forgive (and also relentlessly mock) my flaws. Let the record reflect, however, that he likes American Music Club.

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Oh, just you wait

By On November 3, 2010 · In Cremains

Congratulations, America. And thank you, all you lazy-ass millennials who couldn’t be bothered to vote in an election that wasn’t illustrated by Shepard Fairey. Thank you, single-issue voters. And a special thank you to everyone out there whose chief source of political information is Glenn Beck’s Twitter feed. I don’t want to say that you’ll get what you deserve, because voting jackasses like Rand into office and handily giving the Speaker of the House seat to Boehner is only the beginning of what you deserve.

As a special aside to all the non-voting millennials, I’d like to say: I’m not an idealist. I don’t believe voting makes a difference in every election. There are far too many races in which we’re essentially given a choice of nothing. But if you consciously choose to not perform a fundamental and simple civic duty, you had better be wearing a balaclava and a Sam Browne belt and heading to the Capitol to smash the fucking state. I want a Tompkins Park Tent City erected on the Mall and a Bonus Army led by kids in Wavves t-shirts and those weird harem pants that all the girls seem to be into this fall. Except this time, I want you to drive the politicians out at bayonet-point. And me? I’ll just blog about it from my comfy office chair, because unlike you, I went out and voted yesterday.

That said, the sole election night party I’d have like to attend last night was Linda McMahon’s. Never mind the fact that she’s an idiot who deserved to lose — I heard she had five open bars.

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You want true enlightenment? I’m droppin’ it

By On November 2, 2010 · In Adipocere

Y’all know that one of my bugbears is how law enforcement and the media alike routinely trivialize and downright ignore the serial murders of people — and particularly women — of color (See also. See also. See also).

Something else I dislike? The pop culture treatment of street prostitution.* Here is a list of things that are not funny: Movies and documentaries and conventions and friggin’ Halloween costumes [warning: sound] that glamorize and/or sensationalize pimping. Also not funny: That the meaning of “pimp” has somehow been distilled to mean “to lavishly adorn” or “to promote.” (I find it particularly disturbing when I hear this word used by authors or even publishing world professionals in reference to marketing newly-published books. It’s gross, and they should know better.)

With that jeremiad out of the way, I’d like to introduce you to the newest addition to my list of Self-Appointed Digital Media Gurus Who Are Also the Worst People in the World Bafflingly Clueless and Tone Deaf (But Possibly Redeemable): the author of How to Market Your Brand Like a Prostitute.**

I’ve had the Cherrysave feed in my Google Reader for a while now, long enough that I can’t recall how I first came across the blog. I think it was via this post about using web fonts in CSS3. Or via this post about the semantic web.

Here’s a question, Kurt — why did you delete those posts? Those were interesting.

More specifically, why on earth would you delete those posts and instead puke up something like How to Market Your Brand Like a Prostitute? From the intro:

Prostitutes are not just coke-addicted sex workers. They are (often) very talented marketers and entrepreneurs. Here’s how to market your brand like a prostitute.

This makes my mother’s backhanded compliments (e.g., on Barbra Streisand: She’s so brave to keep her real nose) seem positively toothless.

Reading on. I really liked Tip Number 3:

3. Get a pimp
Connect with people with connections who can promote your brand for you. Having someone to vouch for you (and discover your work) will increase leads and credibility.

See Why Using the Word Pimp to in the Context of Anything Other Than a Fucking Sociopath Who Exploits Fellow Human Beings Means You’re an Idiot, above.

Anyhow, Kurt, I don’t know why you’ve chosen to take this new direction with your writing, but since you mentioned on your About page that “every person has an amazing and rare piece of insight that would be useful to someone else,” allow me to share this insight with you:

I see that you’re a law school student and that this digital media stuff is apparently just a side interest of yours. So here’s a Feminist Protip for you: Regardless of whether you’re arguing a case or presenting at TED or even just hanging out at a neighborhood barbecue, using prostitution similes in an effort to make yourself sound clever or edgy is not going to win you fans. At best, it will win you uncomfortable laughter.

In an ideal world, I mean. Frankly, people are fucking assholes. Maybe everyone outside of my Imaginary Humorless Feminist Collective thinks shit like this is hilarious. For those people, I’ve taken the liberty of punching up Kurt’s cute little presentation — since, you know, street prostitutes are 18 times more likely to be murdered than their non-sex-working female counterparts and are also a hugely popular target for serial killers.

NOW WITH MORE EDGE: How to Market Your Brand Like a Serial Killer:

  1. Go to where the hookers are

    Self-awareness is key. You need to understand who your audience is, and … where you can hunt them down and “pitch” to them. If you don’t, your “pitch” will surely fail to “kill”!

  2. Be a hot piece of a**

    Package and design matter. Anyone can kill a bunch of prostitutes! It’s the ones who chop them up and dump their gutted torsos in elementary school playgrounds who make the news. [Note: It helps if they're white.]

  3. Get a partner in crime

    Connect with people with connections who can promote your brand for you. You think Ottis Toole could’ve made it into the pantheon of American serial killers without Henry Lee Lucas? Forget it!

  4. Don’t try to look like a serial killer unless you are one

    If you fake it, you’ll lose engagement from your audience. Remember: You need at least three kills over a period of more than 30 days if you want to be a REAL serial killer. Don’t half-ass it, buddy.

  5. Avoid competitive corners

    Too much competition can drive down prices and make it harder for you to get noticed.     Did you know that when you cross the Georgia border into Florida there’s a giant sign that reads “Welcome to the Sunshine State, Land of a Thousand Serial Killers”? That’s right — only a rank amateur would “pitch” to an already glutted “market”! Same goes for Southern California. Try someplace like New Hampshire. They haven’t had a good serial killer in like two decades.

*Please note that I’m not talking about sex work in general. I fully support sex workers’ rights, I think prostitution should be legalized, and I believe there are plenty of “normal,” well-adjusted, non-substance-abusing women and men in the trade, etc. etc. But I’m not talking about that today.

**As I was writing this, I had a change of heart once I considered the people in the field whom I wholly despise, such as Loren Feldman (of 1938Media), who is truly in the pantheon of the Worst People in the World. I don’t think Kurt qualifies for this. He’s redeemable. Unless he’s writing shit like this in an attempt to emulate Loren Feldman. Then he goes back on the Worst People list.

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