Listen to the rogues that you come across.
These scoundrels are going to tell you things that make you uncomfortable. Hell, they might just tell you that your way of life is wrong, that it’s contributing to greater evils. When you give them an open ear, they’ll fill it with all sorts of detritus. Stuff that’s bound to upset your sensibilities. Ideas that make you want to vomit. Maybe they’ll ask you to chew on the notion that everything you believe is a lie. They’ll be vulgar and angry and a bit discomfiting.
And you need to listen to them.
`Cause right or wrong, if we don’t entertain roguish ideas then we have no right to accept the easy ones. Sure, some of the time the doomsayers and fringe-dwelling miscreants are wrong. But we can’t know that for sure unless we give `em a chance. And every now and then, when the blue moon turns blood red, the rogues are right. And when this is the case, they’re usually showing us that Daddy Society’s been belting the most hapless, defenseless of his children.
Listen to the rogues.
Welcome to the Monday Morning Commute! I’m going to highlight some of the pop-culture junk I’ll be snackin’ on over the course of the week. Then, you hit up the comments and share your own recipes for entertainment-treats. It’s show-and-tell amongst the crew and passengers of Spaceship OL.
Come one, come all!
Step right up to the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE! This is the carny freakshow extraordinaire, spectacular spectacle for all of us disposable zeroes who’ve climbed aboard Spaceship OL. What’re we doin’ here? Well, we’re goin’ to show off the various ways we’ll entertain ourselves throughout the course of the workweek.
`Cause without music and movies and television and comics and action figures and greasy burgers, what’s the goddamn point?
Let’s do this!
Interesting. Stephen Colbert will be replacing David Letterman next year as host of Late Show. First blush: nice. Second blush: how effective is Colbert when he is…himself? And not that caricature he effectively wields on The Colbert Report? This is not a rhetorical question, I’m genuinely wondering.
The Ultimate Warrior has passed away, at the age of 54. I say a good god damn – a lynchpin of eternal school yard debates from my childhood has departed for the shimmering bare turnbuckle’d ring in the sky.
Welcome to the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE! What do we do here? Well, we discuss the various bites of nonsense we’ll be crammin’ into our skull-holes. Why do we have to do this? Well, if we don’t surround our brain-bones with inspiring, ridiculous, entertaining detritus, then there’s a chance that the bad vibes might get in. And bad vibes are to minds what termites are to wood.
You remember what the termites did to Grampy’s pirate leg, right?
So hop into the frenzy and show off what you’ll be doin’ this week!
Welcome to the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE! In addition to being my feeble attempt to contribute to Spaceship OL, the MMC is the our proverbial water cooler. We gather `round and share the various ways we’ll be enjoyin’ ourselves throughout the week. Yes, it’s like show-and-tell, but for the Future-Net!
What’s that you’ll be eating? Doritos? How festive! And you, Larry with nubby pinky, you say you’re going to send bags of dogshit to your former secretary? Yes, I do think you’ll get restraining ordered! And Tammy, I can’t believe that you found those Peabo Bryson vinyls! Let `em spin, girl!
Let `em spin.
Life is tricky and heroes help out.
There’s no doubt that there’re plenty of problems to be had. Even the strongest amongst us is still, ultimately, an insatiable consciousness traveling in a meek meat-vehicle. While many are bound to experience transcendence at some point, all must deal with turmoil. Hell, dealing with bullshit might be the very yarn woven throughout the entire fabric of the human experience.
“We are all bitched from the start,” Hemingway once wrote.
Luckily, the variety of problems running amok is matched by an equally impressive assortment of heroes. There’re all different sortss, some real and some fictional and others somewhere in between. What do they do? Well, right now they’re at work doin’ medical research and teachin’ guitar and writin’ plays and demonstratin’ the high-jump and makin’ pots of coffee and intermediatin’ conflicts and givin’ earnest advice and huggin’ it out. So if it seems like shit’s gettin’ mad-daunting, keep your eye out for a hero.
In the same letter mentioned above, Hemingway instructed his friend to “Forget your personal tragedy.”
That friend was F. Scott Fitzgerald.
My hero du jour? Michael Keaton. As a self-diagnosed maniac (diagnose yourself otherwise the man with the clipboard will tell you what you are), I need my inspiration to come from superheroes and ghouls and Tarantino characters. So, Keaton’s pretty perfect.
Us maniacs, we need Michael Keaton.
Welcome to the MMC. I’m goin’ to show you some stuff I’ll be doin’ this week. Check it out and then hit up the comments section and describe what you’ll be rockin’ in the upcoming days.
One of the largest Magic: The Gathering tournaments was held this weekend in good old Richmond, Virginia. One intrepid attendee had a mission outside of just rocking some ill card game-matches (can you tell I don’t play?). It was to chronicle the plethora of buttcracks hangin’ out proud. In the wind. Hit the jump to join him on his mission.
Game of Thrones is getting a rap album. Like, an official rap album. With tracks by talent you’ve come to know. Fucking Big Boi, Wale and shit. The world is odd.