We are seriously missing it big time. Here's how it went down, as I understand it. But what do I know...I write a blog that compares this stuff to 80s movies.
The economy is in the toilet. It's not in a house toilet, or a restaurant toilet, or even the Port Authority toilet, which all flush and what-have-you. No, our economy is in a toilet that more resembles a Lollapalooza port-a-potty, which does not flush and therefore all the waste and debris just sits on the bottom in blue water, producing an eerie and filthy echo every time someone else takes a piss. That is the toilet we're in. Enjoy the visual. And the audio.
Anyway, there we all are, flailing in a biohazardous job johnny, when out of nowhere, some dude--let's call him "the US government" comes in, reaches down, and fishes out a piece of used toilet paper called "AIG," and sets it on the rim of the bowl. He fishes out a few others too, but for our purposes, let's just focus on the AIG wipes. I will also end the toilet metaphor now, while I can still retain a shred of dignity in this post.
So the government bailed out AIG, and gave them a ton of money to keep them afloat (whoops, sorry...no more toilets, promise). And what did they do with this money? They gave it to its own executives in the form of hefty bonuses. Executives, mind you, who were in the department MOST responsible for AIG's downturn to begin with.
AIG's CEO Edward Liddy called this "distasteful." Distasteful? Keeping Up With The Kardashians is "distasteful." This misuse of funds is...is...um...Hitlerous. Pol Pot-esque. Castro-nomical. Bushbastic. Fucking horrible.
Then, Liddy asked (asked!?!?!) the execs to give half (half?!?!) back. In doing this, it seems he is trying to show the public he "knows" the bonuses were wrong at a time like this, but still smooching some executive ass by a) giving them an option, and b) only asking for half. In short, his only concern seems to be getting in trouble with his parents.
Last week, a friend and I were watching Adventures in Babysitting (1987) and she made the excellent point that for all the serious trouble those kids get into in that movie--with the law, with the mob, with street gangs--their main concern throughout the entire movie is getting into trouble with their parents. The main goal is picking up Brenda at the bus station, then returning home before Mom and Dad do, because getting in trouble with them would be the absolute worst thing that could happen. Forget the knifing on the subway. Forget the run in with the mob. Forget a ten year old girl hanging on by a thread outside of a skyscraper. They just can not afford to anger Mom and Dad. Even though Mom and Dad appear clueless. Even though Mom and Dad already seem lax with their rules. And even though Mom and Dad are the ones who left their children in the care of an unstable 18 year old in the first place. Their (unjustified) wrath would be the worst case scenario.
And we wouldn't want that, now would we?
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
The Economy Makes Me Feel... and Back to the Future, Part II
The economy makes me feel...around in the couch cushions for the remote control.
So today's iReport on CNN.com features a slew of pissed off potatoes opining about how the "economy" makes them "feel." For some, it's "desperate." Others are "scared." A handful are "hopeful." And one lucky young man from Chattanooga is "kinda horny." (Okay, I made that last one up. Apparently the economy makes me feel "juvenile.")
One of the comments posted is by a guy named Brad, and Brad is warning us that we seriously need to "recognize." He points out that we are a very far financial cry from the downward spiral into third world nation-dom, and "economic struggle" means an inability to buy an apple, not an inability to buy an Apple gadget.
I'm all on board with the idea that the economy has hit a bleak streak, but I am intrigued by Brad's comments. Look, I'm in an artistic field. So I am never out of debt--the consummate Lady in (the) Red. This economy is pretty much business as usual for me, as I never really had money. And certainly, I'm not alone. Starving artists, struggling single moms, one hit wonders--we all feel this crunch every day. We don't really know what the alternative is, or how the better way of life feels, because this is all we know as reality.
I think now is the perfect time to bring up Back to the Future, Part II (1989). As we know, this installment of the BTTF trilogy actually takes us into the year 2015, where after a series of mishaps, Biff gets his hands on Grey's Sports Almanac and the DeLorean, and travels back to 1955 to give it to his younger self. As a result, 1985 becomes corrupt and ugly--Biff is rich and powerful and the rest of the world is full of alcoholic trophy wives, constantly backfiring engines, and "I Can't Drive 55". However, the only ones who know that this alternate 1985 is in fact "alternate" are Marty, Doc, and Einstein, the dog. As Doc illustrates:
"Here's the present, 1985...the future...and the past. Prior to this point in time...somewhere in the past, the timeline skewed into this tangent, creating an alternate 1985. Alternate to you, me and Einstein. But reality for everyone else."
In a nutshell, I think this is where the divide is in the current economic situation. There are those of us always living in the alternate "Biff" 1985, and those lucky few who know what a more comfortable "non-Biff" 1985 feels like. I'll admit, it would be nice to hold company with all you non-Biffers, but truth be told, it's probably a little easier for the lifelong Biffers now--those of us who are used to getting creative, cutting the fat, and living on little.
Never before has having "plenty of nothing" been such a valuable asset.
So today's iReport on CNN.com features a slew of pissed off potatoes opining about how the "economy" makes them "feel." For some, it's "desperate." Others are "scared." A handful are "hopeful." And one lucky young man from Chattanooga is "kinda horny." (Okay, I made that last one up. Apparently the economy makes me feel "juvenile.")
One of the comments posted is by a guy named Brad, and Brad is warning us that we seriously need to "recognize." He points out that we are a very far financial cry from the downward spiral into third world nation-dom, and "economic struggle" means an inability to buy an apple, not an inability to buy an Apple gadget.
I'm all on board with the idea that the economy has hit a bleak streak, but I am intrigued by Brad's comments. Look, I'm in an artistic field. So I am never out of debt--the consummate Lady in (the) Red. This economy is pretty much business as usual for me, as I never really had money. And certainly, I'm not alone. Starving artists, struggling single moms, one hit wonders--we all feel this crunch every day. We don't really know what the alternative is, or how the better way of life feels, because this is all we know as reality.
I think now is the perfect time to bring up Back to the Future, Part II (1989). As we know, this installment of the BTTF trilogy actually takes us into the year 2015, where after a series of mishaps, Biff gets his hands on Grey's Sports Almanac and the DeLorean, and travels back to 1955 to give it to his younger self. As a result, 1985 becomes corrupt and ugly--Biff is rich and powerful and the rest of the world is full of alcoholic trophy wives, constantly backfiring engines, and "I Can't Drive 55". However, the only ones who know that this alternate 1985 is in fact "alternate" are Marty, Doc, and Einstein, the dog. As Doc illustrates:
"Here's the present, 1985...the future...and the past. Prior to this point in time...somewhere in the past, the timeline skewed into this tangent, creating an alternate 1985. Alternate to you, me and Einstein. But reality for everyone else."
In a nutshell, I think this is where the divide is in the current economic situation. There are those of us always living in the alternate "Biff" 1985, and those lucky few who know what a more comfortable "non-Biff" 1985 feels like. I'll admit, it would be nice to hold company with all you non-Biffers, but truth be told, it's probably a little easier for the lifelong Biffers now--those of us who are used to getting creative, cutting the fat, and living on little.
Never before has having "plenty of nothing" been such a valuable asset.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
"I hope he fails" and Uncle Buck
The Party has been in recess for the last few months, but we're back. And so begins year two of the Party in the Back--How Current Events Mirror 80s Cinema.
It's El Presidente's second full day on the job, and the entire country is still basking in the glorious afterglow of Tuesday--smoking a cigarette, and coyly asking Obama, "So, whatcha thinkin'?" The first few days on any job can be beyond exhausting, but consider this factor. Say you're the new guy at work, and so far, everyone just can not get enough of you. Everyone loves your intelligence, your charisma, and your already evident leadership. They look to you as their new hope, the man who can effortlessly work the copier, dissolve all water cooler conflicts, and successfully execute flattering yet eerily accurate impersonations of the guys in middle management. You're thrilled to start on this exciting new adventure, if only it weren't for the hateful, angry, fat, loud, proudly ignorant and wildly nonsensical guy in the last cube, hell bent on welcoming the day that you fail.
So today, Rush Limbaugh (loud, angry, ignorant, hateful, nonsensical--but HE still has a job) stated on his radio show that he hopes President Obama fails. Sigh. Okay, you know what? Fine. I get it. You're upset because you didn't win. Because all the girls like someone else better. Because you didn't get your way, and now only kids under a certain weight are allowed on the teeter totter. But you know what? Basically, what you're saying when you say "I hope a leader fails" is "I hope we all fail. I hope we plunge further into the depths of debt and despair more than we already are." All in the name of you being right--you told us so. I hope that makes you feel good--knowing you're right will certainly make hell feel all that much more balmy.
So Uncle Buck (1989). Uncle Buck is the Russells' only option as a babysitter for their children when they're called away on a family emergency. And because she's pissed that SHE wasn't asked to watch the kids while her parents were away, Tia, the eldest daughter, tries everything in her book of teenage trickery to paint Uncle Buck as an unfit caretaker. Forget that he's unorthodox and therefore, fun. Forget that he's trying. Forget that the younger kids just love him. Forget that he makes HUGE pancakes. Tia wants him to fail, because she didn't get her way. She wanted to take care of her brother and sister, Miles and Maizy. But, if she really cared about the well being of her brother and sister, then would she be trying to sabotage the person put in charge? Would she want him to fail? Because if he fails, then the kids would be the ones to suffer.
So I'm not the first and surely won't be the last to say this. Shut it, Limbaugh. And take your grubby hands off our huge pancake. It's ours. It's grotesquely evident that you've already had your share.
It's El Presidente's second full day on the job, and the entire country is still basking in the glorious afterglow of Tuesday--smoking a cigarette, and coyly asking Obama, "So, whatcha thinkin'?" The first few days on any job can be beyond exhausting, but consider this factor. Say you're the new guy at work, and so far, everyone just can not get enough of you. Everyone loves your intelligence, your charisma, and your already evident leadership. They look to you as their new hope, the man who can effortlessly work the copier, dissolve all water cooler conflicts, and successfully execute flattering yet eerily accurate impersonations of the guys in middle management. You're thrilled to start on this exciting new adventure, if only it weren't for the hateful, angry, fat, loud, proudly ignorant and wildly nonsensical guy in the last cube, hell bent on welcoming the day that you fail.
So today, Rush Limbaugh (loud, angry, ignorant, hateful, nonsensical--but HE still has a job) stated on his radio show that he hopes President Obama fails. Sigh. Okay, you know what? Fine. I get it. You're upset because you didn't win. Because all the girls like someone else better. Because you didn't get your way, and now only kids under a certain weight are allowed on the teeter totter. But you know what? Basically, what you're saying when you say "I hope a leader fails" is "I hope we all fail. I hope we plunge further into the depths of debt and despair more than we already are." All in the name of you being right--you told us so. I hope that makes you feel good--knowing you're right will certainly make hell feel all that much more balmy.
So Uncle Buck (1989). Uncle Buck is the Russells' only option as a babysitter for their children when they're called away on a family emergency. And because she's pissed that SHE wasn't asked to watch the kids while her parents were away, Tia, the eldest daughter, tries everything in her book of teenage trickery to paint Uncle Buck as an unfit caretaker. Forget that he's unorthodox and therefore, fun. Forget that he's trying. Forget that the younger kids just love him. Forget that he makes HUGE pancakes. Tia wants him to fail, because she didn't get her way. She wanted to take care of her brother and sister, Miles and Maizy. But, if she really cared about the well being of her brother and sister, then would she be trying to sabotage the person put in charge? Would she want him to fail? Because if he fails, then the kids would be the ones to suffer.
So I'm not the first and surely won't be the last to say this. Shut it, Limbaugh. And take your grubby hands off our huge pancake. It's ours. It's grotesquely evident that you've already had your share.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Cats Pooping to Vote and The Goonies
My friend and I have this theory. Let any conversation, no matter what the topic, go on long enough, and it will eventually disintegrate into a conversation about farting and pooping. On that note, I give you CNN.com's iReport.
I guess we've officially been talking about the election long enough. Because today, iReport featured cats voting in a "Kitty Caucus" in Ohio. And how exactly did they exercise the right that taxes and jury duty paid for? I'm glad you asked. They pooped in the box that bore the label of their candidate of choice. Cats...took a dump...on their candidate.
There is video, so you can actually watch cats drop patriotic anchor. And people can't stop commenting on how cute this is. And I am inconsolable.
But the harsh reality is that this about sums up how we view our own voting process, how much of a joke it's become, and how because of it, we can never again wonder how the wrong people get into office. How can we take the real thing seriously, when we have the presence of mind to even think of creating such a parody? It's a sad day for those of us who still really do have the utmost respect for our own right to vote.
But the Goonies. The Goonies fight for what's important to them. The Goonies know that people before them died trying. The Goonies still believe in the passion, the magic, and the glory. The Goonies know what it means to have respect and reverance for what shouldn't be touched. They take all they can handle in gold, but keep their grubby little hands off of One Eyed Willie's personal booty.
And the Goonies never say die.
I guess we've officially been talking about the election long enough. Because today, iReport featured cats voting in a "Kitty Caucus" in Ohio. And how exactly did they exercise the right that taxes and jury duty paid for? I'm glad you asked. They pooped in the box that bore the label of their candidate of choice. Cats...took a dump...on their candidate.
There is video, so you can actually watch cats drop patriotic anchor. And people can't stop commenting on how cute this is. And I am inconsolable.
But the harsh reality is that this about sums up how we view our own voting process, how much of a joke it's become, and how because of it, we can never again wonder how the wrong people get into office. How can we take the real thing seriously, when we have the presence of mind to even think of creating such a parody? It's a sad day for those of us who still really do have the utmost respect for our own right to vote.
But the Goonies. The Goonies fight for what's important to them. The Goonies know that people before them died trying. The Goonies still believe in the passion, the magic, and the glory. The Goonies know what it means to have respect and reverance for what shouldn't be touched. They take all they can handle in gold, but keep their grubby little hands off of One Eyed Willie's personal booty.
And the Goonies never say die.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Racism, Sexism and The Neverending Story
At recent McCain rallies, cries of "shoot him" could be heard in the crowd in reference to Barack Obama.
Reuters recently ran pictures of Sarah Palin, where one photo was shot from behind her and through her legs, making it look like the men in the audience are looking up her skirt.
Racism. Sexism. The Neverending Story (1984).
Atreyu is a child warrior on a quest to stop "The Nothing" from spreading and destroying Fantasia. On the way, he happens upon a rock biter, dudes who ride bats and snails, a swamp, a giant congested mossy turtle, two shirtless laser shooting sphinxes, a luck dragon, a violent talking wolf on a mission, two more shirtless though less aggressive sphinxes...and a chilly magic mirror. According to the toothless scientist who travels via basket, laser shooting gals with claws and short fuses are the least of Atreyu's problems. The worst of the challenges is the magic mirror.
"... kind people find that they are cruel, brave men discover that they are really cowards. Confronted with their true selves most men run away screaming!"
So the Magic Mirror reveals us at our core, our true selves, as naked as the day we streaked the Super Bowl. Okay. So does this mean that in a country where we'd all like to think we're universally progressive, accepting, equal, and so "free" that we can't help but spread it like herpes to the rest of the world, one look in this election campaign Magic Mirror is revealing that we're still a bunch of racist and sexist barbarians who have not evolved or progressed much beyond camp Cro-Magnon?
The truth hurts.
Reuters recently ran pictures of Sarah Palin, where one photo was shot from behind her and through her legs, making it look like the men in the audience are looking up her skirt.
Racism. Sexism. The Neverending Story (1984).
Atreyu is a child warrior on a quest to stop "The Nothing" from spreading and destroying Fantasia. On the way, he happens upon a rock biter, dudes who ride bats and snails, a swamp, a giant congested mossy turtle, two shirtless laser shooting sphinxes, a luck dragon, a violent talking wolf on a mission, two more shirtless though less aggressive sphinxes...and a chilly magic mirror. According to the toothless scientist who travels via basket, laser shooting gals with claws and short fuses are the least of Atreyu's problems. The worst of the challenges is the magic mirror.
"... kind people find that they are cruel, brave men discover that they are really cowards. Confronted with their true selves most men run away screaming!"
So the Magic Mirror reveals us at our core, our true selves, as naked as the day we streaked the Super Bowl. Okay. So does this mean that in a country where we'd all like to think we're universally progressive, accepting, equal, and so "free" that we can't help but spread it like herpes to the rest of the world, one look in this election campaign Magic Mirror is revealing that we're still a bunch of racist and sexist barbarians who have not evolved or progressed much beyond camp Cro-Magnon?
The truth hurts.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Our Economy Down the Toilet and (of course) Wall Street
"The point is, ladies and gentleman, that greed -- for lack of a better word -- is good. Greed is right. Greed works. Greed clarifies, cuts through, and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit. Greed, in all of its forms -- greed for life, for money, for love, knowledge -- has marked the upward surge of mankind.
And greed -- you mark my words -- will not only save Teldar Paper, but that other malfunctioning corporation called the USA."
--Gordon Gekko, Wall Street (1987)
It just goes to show that we might think we're still in the 80s what with all the off-the-shoulder shirts, leggings, ankle boots, and renewed interest in New Kids on the Block (a Madison Square Garden concert, seriously?), but the 80s really are long gone when a statement like the one above, which defined that decade, has completely parodied itself in order to ironically reference the mess we're in now.
Yeah, this was an easy one, but too perfect not to put on this site.
And greed -- you mark my words -- will not only save Teldar Paper, but that other malfunctioning corporation called the USA."
--Gordon Gekko, Wall Street (1987)
It just goes to show that we might think we're still in the 80s what with all the off-the-shoulder shirts, leggings, ankle boots, and renewed interest in New Kids on the Block (a Madison Square Garden concert, seriously?), but the 80s really are long gone when a statement like the one above, which defined that decade, has completely parodied itself in order to ironically reference the mess we're in now.
Yeah, this was an easy one, but too perfect not to put on this site.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Clay Aiken and Three Men and a Baby
Wait. Before I drop this bomb, sit down. What I'm about to tell you is so unfathomable, and will so level you that I'd rather you were being held up by a sturdy chair or the couch or the toilet (I don't know where you read this) so I am not liable when you lose your balance and fall over from the complete and utter shock of the following statement.
Clay Aiken told People magazine that he is gay.
Clay Aiken. Gay. Gay. Clay Aiken.
And the planets have aligned.
Now that the shock has worn off, one quick thing. Didn't we know this? And by we, I of course mean...EVERYONE! Trappist monks in the most secluded monasteries on the planet knew that Clay Aiken stirred the sauce with his left hand (even I don't know what that means). He, and every news outlet covering this, are telling us what we already know. Like in Three Men and a Baby (1987) when everyone keeps coming into the bachelor apartment turned nursery and takes one look at the baby and says, "It's a baby." Which finally prompts Peter (Tom Selleck) to say, "Why does everyone keep saying that, 'it's a baby.' I know it's a baby."
And the fact that I used this movie for this story--a story that also has to do with the fact that Clay just had a baby? Well, that's just gravy.
Clay Aiken told People magazine that he is gay.
Clay Aiken. Gay. Gay. Clay Aiken.
And the planets have aligned.
Now that the shock has worn off, one quick thing. Didn't we know this? And by we, I of course mean...EVERYONE! Trappist monks in the most secluded monasteries on the planet knew that Clay Aiken stirred the sauce with his left hand (even I don't know what that means). He, and every news outlet covering this, are telling us what we already know. Like in Three Men and a Baby (1987) when everyone keeps coming into the bachelor apartment turned nursery and takes one look at the baby and says, "It's a baby." Which finally prompts Peter (Tom Selleck) to say, "Why does everyone keep saying that, 'it's a baby.' I know it's a baby."
And the fact that I used this movie for this story--a story that also has to do with the fact that Clay just had a baby? Well, that's just gravy.
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