How To Toast Bread

Bryce Chartwell shows the people how to toast bread.

A friend sent me this video. His media studies professor used it as an example of narcissism. If I had to make toast for Bryce Chartwell I would be afraid to mess up the toast! What if I don't do it the right way? This video makes me want to eat toast in the opposite way: over a rough fire, scarf it down, and get my shirt dirty. If it is satire, this video is hilarious. I think it's satire and a good example of consumerism. We don't just want toast. We want the perfect toast. And we are satisfied with the illusion that spreading the butter in an East to West direction and making sure the butter is only one micron thick will achieve satisfaction beyond the basic needs of food and shelter into the meta-realm of desire where toast takes on an entirely different meaning. It ain't toast anymore. It reminds me of people who order specially bottled water at restaurants to feel like the water, in all of its neat packaging is more than just water, it is beyond water. Of course, the structure of desire is such that we are never satisfied. We want more. And more. Capitalism takes advantage of our desire and runs with it. Long live the toast. The toast is dead.

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Quote on Laziness by Alfred E. Neuman (from Mad Magazine)

In this post, I present a quote on laziness by the king of satire himself Alfred E. Neuman.

"Most people are so lazy, they don't even exercise good judgement!" 

— Alfred E. Neuman

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Poem: “Chinese Buffet”

photo credit: wikimedia

at the chinese buffet, during lunch hour
there's a table of brash intimacy
and lunch hour camaraderie -
the sleight parent wearing a holiday
green sweater, christmas lights strung
across her child-nursing breasts;
she gestures, eggrolls pushed to
the side, the travails of I-don't-know-what-
because I am too far away to eavesdrop,
but what I did notice I've turned into miserable verse,
I must admit,
of my own voyeurism
getting the best of me,
this haphazard bunch,
articulating with words and flesh
what I can only stab at
with my fork,
ashamed at my own frog-like
existence,
crouching in the chinese buffet,
while my mongolian stew
gristles in the background.

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Repost from Kurt Vonnegut: Liberal Crap I Don't Want to Hear Anymore

To commemorate Easter Sunday, I am posting a Vonnegut interview. On September 13, 2005, Jon Stewart interviewed Kurt Vonnegut on The Daily Show. I still laugh at the interview and think it is brilliant. I think they should have let Vonnegut read out his, "liberal crap I don't want to hear anymore," so I will republish it here along with the clip from the Daily Show interview.*
     It's too bad Vonnegut is dead; I saw him as a contemporary Mark Twain. If someone were to ask me who was the funniest and most insouciant writer in America, I would have to say, Vonnegut. Lewis Nordan is pretty goddamn funny too, as well as David Sedaris. But, I think Vonnegut tops them all.

Give us this day our daily bread. Oh sure.
Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.
Nobody better trespass against me. I'll tell you that. I'll cut you a new you-know-what. 

Blessed are the meek.
Blessed are the merciful. You mean we can't use torture?
Blessed are the peacemakers. Jane Fonda?
Love your enemies - Arabs? 

Ye cannot serve God and Mammon. The hell I can't! Look at the Reverand Pat Robertson. And He is as happy as a pig in s**t. 

*Comedy Central scrubbed the video. If you want to watch the clip, you'll have to pony up some cash to watch it.

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Rant on Fashion: "I hate . . ."

My sad koi face does not like thee.

A blog post you really don't need to read because I just merely list the popular name- brand clothing corporations I truly despise:

I Hate:

Abercrombie and Fitch, Hollister, American Eagle, Aeropostale, Ed Hardy, American Eagle Outfitters, Wal Mart, Macy's, Mervyn's, JC Penny, Gotschalks . . .

Thanks, francbecerra (for the inspiration)
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Satire: Inebriated White Women

Random Underlinings found in a serial killer's handbag:

Whenever inebriated upper-class white women scorn fags and black people, you have to stop to think that inebriated upper-class white women are the minority that needs to be checked on their white privilege. Better yet, tell 'em their sons are homos and the WWII museum should be burned to the fucking ground. Viva La Revolution!

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Theological Meandering into Tele-Visual Popular Culture: Religion and the Simpsons

From Apu’s peanut faux pas to Mormon coffee constraints, discover religion’s fuzzy logic, comedic missteps, and how belief shapes our worldview.

“Please, do not offer my god a peanut.”

(Apu to Homer, after Homer offers a peanut to a statue of Ganesh.) —

Religion is a topic my buddy Ryan loves to discuss, even when I am exhausted and devoid of argumentative spunk. He especially likes to expose inane postulates; for example, he told me about a moral paradox he noticed about his Southern Baptist roots. In the Southern Baptist culture it is a sin to cheat on your wife, or sneak a brewskie on a Sunday before church, but none of these sinners would ever publicly deny God's existence. "In other words," said to me, sitting on my deck chair nursing a glass of OJ, "you can fuck your wife's best friend but you can't be an atheist."
Religion follows its own fuzzy logic. "Do not offer my god a peanut" ok? What about, don't eat for one hour before holy communion? Or, if a man spills his semen on the bed during sex he has to atone for the loss of his potential babies? Homer may have offended Apu by giving Ganesh a peanut, but in the world of religion, it is not that difficult to make a faux pas.
A couple of Mormons paid a visit to my apartment yesterday; I offered them a coffee and I noticed the smaller dude glanced apprehensively at the other one; after a second pause, they both said, "Well, that's another thing about us -- we don't drink coffee." "Ahhh," I said, "What about a gin and tonic?" and laughed but they didn't laugh with me. I honestly did want to see if they were interested in sharing with me other details of their faith, but I had a dental appointment so I had to shoo them off; and they were so adorable! I should not have offered that peanut, I said to myself.

Religion is ingrained in our nubile minds from the moment we enter into language. We are submerged in religion, with its weird taboos, and semantic boundaries; it is next to impossible to break water and gulp air, to turn back and look at how religion affects us unaffected. It is only a rare occasion when religion is seen outside of context, can we begin to notice its arbitrary and illogical nature. We seldom think of our own faith tradition as flawed, even when we intellectually forsake it.
In Amitav Gosh's book In an Antique Land, a memoir about his own anthropological study, living with a group of rural Egyptians; he a Hindu; they, Muslim. In a funny exchange, Ghosh attempts to explain why Hindus revere the cow and the belief of reincarnation. Set up in the village to examine and write about the people for his dissertation, Ghosh ironically is questioned by his host group on his own beliefs in a humorous reversal of roles. The experience gives him (and the reader) a rare opportunity to see his own faith upbringing from the viewpoint of an outsider who is allowed to express their unsolicited opinion unfiltered by secondary commentary.
I can remember as a teenager feeling undeniably that I would go to hell if I entertained a homosexual thought. I never thought that maybe -- just maybe -- it was all balderdash. Well, I did. Of course. But, I could not shake the anxiety that I would be punished. It probably took a few years to untangle a belief that gays were impure and their actions merited them punishment. Even though intellectually I knew that when a pastor condemned gay behavior, they were wrong, it was yet another thing entirely to unravel my emotional (or psychic) adherence to what I had believed to be truth.
Once the mind grasps a concept as true -- both in the heart and in the head — it can be very difficult to unravel the thought process. Even though we say metaphysics is dead -- I believe when it comes to religious thought -- we are a metaphysical society. Truth is substantiated by divine revelation. Just as my friend Ryan could sin and still be forgiven -- the one sin he could not commit was to disagree with the standards of truth set up by the Christian doctrine.

I was teaching the Ramayanna a few weeks ago to my freshman English class. The story is about the hero in a cosmic battle (aided by supernatural monkey hordes). In the story he prays to the god Shiva to bring down destruction on his adversary Ravana. One of my students raises her hand, asks genuinely, "But, why didn't someone tell Rama to pray to God?" I laughed and said, "Well, what if someone came to you and said, 'you know, why don't you pray to Shiva instead of Yahweh? What would you say?"

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Online Video Chat Review: Adventures in Stickam

In this post, I explore Stickam: its addictive Chat Rooms, Voyeurism, and Digital Culture.

Adventures in Stickam (pronounced STICK CAM)
    People with addictions know (if only at the level of the subconscious) that the addict is searching for the next big hit. The addict thinks, "yeah, the next shot will be better than the last." Well, addictive websites act according to the same logic. On Stickam, the same addictive cycle plays itself out. I must confess (*wipes back tears*) I am an addict. I go to CA meetings monthly (camwhores anonymous). Hah hah. lolz. ROFL. (oh wait, this is a blog, not an I<) With that said, I do not intend for this blog to be a moral diatribe. 
    If you are offended by this kind of thing, don't read my blog. Lots of ink has been spilled about the risks of Stickam. I will reserve moral judgment for other plebes. If you don't know about Stickam, it is a site where you can chat and cam with dozens of people simultaneously. The site allows you to register for free with a username, a profile page (where you can add personal information, stats, quotes) similar to Facebook and myspace. In the chat rooms, Stickam is a free-for-all.
    The phenomenon called Stickam was started in 2004 and is owned (according to the site) by Advanced Video Communications. The site states that Stickam is "the pioneer of live streaming video and the largest live community on the Internet." Yippie! Oh, Stickam, I love you!
Stickam Chat Rooms    

See, Stickam chat rooms are created by Stickam users, so chat groups can be anything from {str8.gay.bi} to {Vampire Nation™}. I am serious! Inside a chat room are usually dozens of users, having various conversations at once. The funny thing about Stickam is that people are usually chatting. I have never been online and seen empty chat rooms.
Another feature of Stickam is the option "to go live." This simply means that anyone anywhere can view your webcam, not only the three million registered viewers but anyone with a computer and a web browser. Or you can limit your live to friends and people you select. The live feature gives Stickam an advantage over other cam sites because a user can embed their "live" into their websites and create, on the fly, instant personal webcam pages. In reality, live is so dumb: who cares if you are brushing your teeth, no one wants to see it.
     Stickam is pure hilarity. It is mindless. Sometimes, utterly profound. A typical tour through Stickam will desensitize even the most unsensitized of persons. To me, Stickam is like a fast-food drive-thru. Cheap, temporarily fulfilling and quick. Like most chat rooms, people are rude, crass, stupid, demoralizing, impish, inane, and usually vapid. All rules of grammar and spelling are void. Shallowness is the new deep, folks.
     But, I am not knocking the experience. Stickam is fucking funny. Especially when someone is like super high, talking as if no one is listening (which is the charm of the live entertainer, btw) and having conversations with other cammers, reading their comments, and rocking out. It is hilarious. But, hey, maybe I am just shallow, man.
     The quintessential feature that makes Stickam unique is its egalitarian front. You got all kinds, dawlin'. Also, it is the one place on the web where you can see with your eyes, hear with your ears, read with your brain, all at the same time people just doing otherwise banal, stuff. It is so funny: some people actually are on Stickam 24/7. You can tell: they are sleeping, eating, talking on their cell phones, or doing homework.
Some users I have met:
    Mature guys like Cheech — I met him and his parrot — will demonstrate to anyone who will listen how to be masculine type, be a Puerto Rican top, wear leather properly, and at the same show professionalism and decorum (he is a social worker by trade). Immature folks (like lil gangsta) say whatever is on their mind ("I just farted" or "I am bored"). Calicob is from Atlanta and enjoys discussing quantum physics. Ender is an intriguing lad who loves to speak about Frederic Jameson, but he is usually shirtless, drinking, and a potty mouth. Mr.Brian lives in Oregon, mid-life, and says nothing except, "how is everyone tonight?" Canadabeef is scary. Patrick is Canadian and loves to hate on Americans; he splatters the chat with French phrases and he is super mean.
    Although I have to admit with lil gangsta, most Stickam sessions are kinda boring. To be a true hard-on, junkie, basically quit your job, stock up on food and booze, never leave your house and set yourself in front of the webcam and wait.
    One user, Cocoboy, is a boy, but he likes to dress up like a girl and he is from Scotland. He is fucking hilarious. If he is on, I mute everyone else and listen to his rambling monologue (it goes on for hours). Or lindababe: she is a girl, I think, and she has her iTunes on randomizer and she loves to jam out and make obscene comments.
Some Stickam vocabulary:
     If you never say anything and don't go on cam you are called a "lurker". For example, "hey lurkerz, come in!" If you go on cam and say things but you are kinda scary you are called a "creeper". For example, "That dude is such a creeper." Mods are moderators. Dock and undock: on Stickam the user chooses (docks) people they want to see or removes (undocks) people they don't want to see. Pedos = anyone who is creepy. Pedobears = hairy ones. The penis is called a peen (cuz you can't curse). If you want to send a private message you PM that person.
    If you show pubes, you're out. Although, this rule is occasionally broken. Frontal nudity on Stickam is actually hilarious. It happens sporadically. Lasts for about fifteen seconds, before a mod notices and kicks them out. The most disturbing incident I have ever seen on Stickam was a drunk adolescent was with his friends, said he was gay, flashed his peen, then wrote "death to all faggots" and then wrote his phone number and location for all to see. Or another time: a girl was live and she was obviously severely overdosed, crying bitterly, and talking about killing herself. Her friend was also live, on the phone with 911, waiting for the cops to arrive. And we could call see the events transpiring.
Now Voyeurs!
Voyeurism is the attraction of Stickam. No one ever says it but it is the reason why the cammers gather. Let's face it: we are a nation of secret voyeurs (well, not so secret). Stickam is Rear Window for the rest of us. If a user is not on cam he is instantly suspect. Doubly suspect if he or she is not on cam nor does she have a profile pic. Either you want to be seen or you want to see. Even though exhibitionism is banned, everyone loves the thrill of the occasional girl or guy who shows all. Because it is prohibited means it is more exciting when it happens. If Stickam were unadulterated it would not be as fun. That's what porn is for! If you want skin on Stickam you got to ask for it or just wait patiently. On Stickam, most folks follow the rules. But, rules are made to be broken. When they are broken it gives everyone a thrill. Even the prudes. I would not be surprised if Stickam's developers are forced to can the site. I have noticed the web watchers are getting nervous. It is only a matter of time before something hits the news: "teen commits suicide because someone on Stickam told them"
    Which brings me to my second to last point: sex. I guess sex underscores the entire Stickam phenomenon. Sexuality is such a colorful cornucopia. I have never met so many bi people in my life. Everyone is bi. OMG. If you want sex it is not prudent to just start doing it on cam. Even the camwhores get all puritan on you. Sex on Stickam is like sex in real life: flirt, reveal some potent information, proposition yourself, exchange instant message names (or use Stickam's C2C feature).
    Stickam lies in that interstitial space: not so highly prohibited like pornography, but at the same time, most people would not want their colleagues (or their kids) to know that they cam every night in the {rock_with_your_cock_out} room.
Caveats:

• It eats up your time
• Mostly uninteresting
• Don't forget to turn your cam off
• Gender ambiguity is a given
• People lie
• Haters abound

But, hey, compared to other empty garbage like Reality TV and QVC, I'll take Stickcam anyday.
Read more about Stickam:

• Encyclopedia Dramatica
• Wikipedia Entry
• Parental Concerns
• Urban Dictionary
• New York Times Article

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Poetry: "For Tammy"

        with a sock puppet, dear, she carved out a few queers
        to love her —
            the most kind of women,
            to love us deviants

        she wiped away our tears with her touché kleenex —
           
            on television everyone is a performance
            the difference being only in the self-awareness

        appendix:
        this hero of a guy chris cries on a streaming video
        that the media needs to leave Chutney Shears alone! —
        or you’re going to have to deal with me —
        she’s not well right now —
       
            and we rouse up our spirits with equal fags
        who stand up for the underdogs, yup

        even pee-wee fucking herman,
        a champion of gay rights —
       
            his onanism in a girly porno theatre
    warmed the cockles of our leftist fag hearts

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