The Phenomenon That Dare Not Let Me Invent Its Name

I've lately noticed a fascinatingly irritating phenomenon involving Blogger: the fuckillions of blogs trying, invariably ineptly, to use their sites as marketing tools. Hit the little "next blog" feature up there, and you'll likely be swept to some grand site such as this (coffee flavored free Resources!), this (urgently looking for the most recent bulletins on Franz 90th Anniversary Basketball Cards?) and my favorite so far, Jesus in Lingeries (sic). Attempt to resist this, O potential consumer:

Keen on Black Pantyhose Gallery? One of the internets greatest advantages is that you can quickly and comfortably source whatever youre looking for. Before the advent of the web how easy was it to discover the Black Pantyhose Gallery info you needed right in front of you?

Not at all easy, Jesus, I must confess.

Okay, I can dig more or less what's behind this: automated blog-generators whose purpose is to increase the number of links to a commercial site in the hopes of manipulating search engines--much the same reasoning as comment spam. But the ineptitude of the final product makes Nigerian scam spammers seem like magnates of industry. And what to call these things? I just tested "next blog" again and found that four-fifths of the blogs were this sort of hokum. Something so widespread must have a name, or very badly needs one. "Splagm" seems perfect, being a portmanteau of "spam" and "blog" as well as being appropriately disgusting sounding. But how to pronounce that? Anyone (besides "Brokeman" and his broke ilk) care to chime in?

Garry, Just Admit It

“Life is just like a game of chess.” How many times have you heard some variation of this stale old trope? Garry Kasparov would certainly have you believe this; his whole claim to authority stems from this attractive fallacy. Now friends, I’ve had both chess and life in godawful abundance, and so know damnwell that chess ain’t nothin’ like life at all. Hence,

Ways Chess Ain’t Nothin’ Like Life At All

(1) In chess, when a pawn reaches the opponent’s eighth rank, it is “promoted,” usually to Queen. In life, you slave for twenty years as an under-assistant secretary to the VP of Marketing, only to get passed up for promotion to some rich punk 23 year old MBA who calls you “guy.”

(2) In chess, a pawn's first move enables it to advance two spaces. In life, your first move will result in a drink being thrown in your face and being called a “creep” or an “asshole.”

(3) In chess, the Queen has the greatest power and mobility, with the potential to occupy any square on the board. In life, the Queen must move to West Hollywood, the West Village, the Castro, or Capitol Hill, Seattle. . . or, less successfully, to rural heartland America (reference: Hedwig & the Angry Inch).

(4) In chess, if a player devotes his life to the game and wins enough matches, he will be lauded as an International Master. In life, if a player does the same, he becomes an international fugitive and then a citizen of Iceland.

(5) In chess, resignation is signaled by tipping over one’s king. In life, resignation involves drinking oneself into a nightly stupor while chain smoking in tattered boxer shorts and wondering when the razor’ll be allowed to slip just enough.

(6) In chess, the doubling cube is placed on the “bar,” with the number 64 on top. Oh, wait, that’s backgammon, a game that really is exactly like life. Excuse me.

Tom Waits on Leadbelly

[He] contains all that is necessary to sustain life, a true force of nature. He died the day before I was born and I like to think I passed him in the hall and he banged into me and knocked me over.

I can see clearly now, the stain is gonzo. . .

I saw this product last night in the laundry room of my building. Perhaps I'm just too sensitive after Mr. Thompson's recent demise, but they have no damn right! As usual, ridicule's the only weapon of a poor man. Therefore,

Possible True-to-Name Ways Gonzo® Stain Remover Removes Stains

Trades stain and two tickets to the Super Bowl to some winos for their half-empty bottle of Muscat.

Takes stain on a long wild drug-addled speed-haunted trip through the desert to San Antonio, drops it off tripping balls in the center of the Republican City Aldermen’s Association annual meeting, and leaves.

Throws radio into the tub with the stain when the rabbit bites its own fucking head off.

Hallucinating and sweating buckets of bullets after chewing a big fat Bonobo pineal gland and drinking six isopropyl ’n’ Cokes, cowers behind the Great Seal of the State of Colorado while leveling a Smith and Wesson at the stain and ranting, “Back, you savage bastard, back!”

Rolls stain up with rough cut mentholated tobacco and high-test Moroccan kif, smokes the bejeezus out of it, and libelously lambasts several Supreme Court justices in a thirty-thousand-word typewriter flagellation session to be published by Rolling Stone circa 1991.

Comment with more, kind reader(s).

Today

(1) It finally rained in Seattle.
(2) I got at last an offer for some contract proofreading work, doublechecking French text for video games. Quelle suprise!
And, AND,
(3) Corazon Antonia Chinnici, 6 lbs 13 oz, 7:51 p.m.!!
God and the Gods favor her angelhood, and bless boldly you both, dearest friends.

Hedgy Chessy Hopes Dashed to Dangville

“Chess player Gary [sic] Kasparov announces his run for president in 2008.” Salon.com today makes this claim atop an article reprinted from The Guardian, taking a break from its peerless dead duck reportage. But hang on: not only does the actual story not confirm this claim (read it here to avoid Salon-O-Mercial), but Kasparov’s March 14th Wall Street Journal editorial, in which he announced his retirement from chess, directly contradicts it:

My retirement from chess is not about running for president or any other higher office, although I am not prepared to rule anything out. It is about opposing our authoritarian regime and bringing positive change. There are millions like me in Russia who want a free press, rule of law and fair elections. My new job is to fight for those people and to fight for those things.

(Read the rest here, to avoid the Wall Street Journal.)

Yeah, “I am not prepared to rule anything out” is typical hedge-speak. I’m sure Putin’s already announced something like, “My intentions are not to overturn the constitution to hold on to power forever, although I am not prepared to rule anything out.” But however hedged, such a declaration is no basis for claiming its exact opposite.

Hey, Salon: I’ll happily read your articles for you for a nominal stipend. Comment with an offer, and I’ll have my agent get in touch with your attorneys, etc. etc.

That Invaluable UK Press, or, Why the Internet Exists, Pt. 27

The Strange Case of the Homosexual Necrophiliac Duck

Citizen Dissident Snicket

Wildly popular morbid children's literature for regime change! The final volume of Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events, The Slippery Slope, contains the following dialogue (page 107) between the infant Sunny Baudelaire and the villainous Count Olaf:

"I'm getting quite tired of your ridiculous speach impediment," Count Olaf said.
"Brummel," Sunny said, which meant "In my opinion, you desperately need a bath, and your clothing is a shambles."
"Be quiet this instant," Olaf ordered.
"Busheney," Sunny said, which meant something along the lines of, "You're an evil man with no concern whatsoever for other people."

(Emphasis added, probably unnecessarily.)
That "Ch" sound is hard to get out when you're teething, it seems.

(Many thanks to dear Heather Bee for this discovery---and for everything else, yes.)

Rather? Not.

The only thing I have to lament about Dan Rather's retirement is that the Evolution Control Committee's "Rocked By Rape" will now be a little less than contemporary, though the sentiment therein will surely last as long as broadcast news. Have a listen, and salute Dan's mighty legacy in proper fashion. Cheers, boyo.

Sleeve and Sleevelette

What better for a Flickr posting test than a little Buggins, innit?

Even apter than the real thing

From Cinemocracy, via News of the Dead, by way of etc. etc. :

Fox Searchlight’s in-flight movie version of Sideways, as distributed in South America, replaced all instances of the epithet, "asshole," with, "Ashcroft."
As in, "you Ashcroft!"

Now if only they'd snuck in a Santorum or two . . .

Dare Ye Mix Magick----With Metaphor??

"Armed with this self-knowledge, the magician may ever ride the shark of his desire across the ocean of the dual principle to a gratuitous ecstasy."

--Peter J. Carroll, Liber Null & Psychonaut, p.77

Oh, Jesus H. Christ Kia H. Zos.

Lullasuey

My beloved pards Lullabelle's next show is again at bigtime hotspot Chop Suey, Wednesday March 16. This time they share the bill with th'esteemed and half-renowned Scientific American. Way to go, mes belles! Door's at nine, and I'll damnwell be girding up my purple ass for some git-down. Will you?

Homage to Wiggins, and Anderson, Separately

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