The Demon Sheep

First order of business:  Happy belated birthday to myself.  ”Have a drink, Snark.” / ” Thanks!  Don’t mind if I do!”

Second order of business:  I adjure you to watch the following political ad, if you have not seen it already:

Yes.  Demon-frickin’-sheep.  You can even find #demonsheep on Twitter.  It’s a frickin’ satanic opera of Miltonian proportions!  Demon sheep!  AHH!

I think that this might possibly be the best attack ad in American politics since LBJ’s 1964 Daisy ad.  I can say that because I’m not a Californian.  If I was a Californian, I’d probably be disgusted.  But instead of disgust, let’s discuss (see what I did there?)

First some background (at least as much as I can provide in that I know next to nothing about the state of the California Republican Party or the Senate primaries).  Carly Fiorina, former CEO of Hewlett-Packard, is vying against former state congressman Tom Campbell in a Senate primary, and California is broke.  Not just broke, they’re “way the hell effing broke.”  …and that’s really all you need to know in order to enjoy this ad on its merits, alone.

I can’t say what it is that I enjoy most about this ad, because it’s just chocked full of greatness.  What was their formula for creating this ad?

First, we’re gonna compare fiscally conservative politicians to sheep.  We’re gonna do this by saying that Tom Campbell is a Fiscal Conservative In Name Only (which is a term we just made up right now), and that bastard is lurking amongst true fiscal conservatives like a wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing.  Okay, penny pinching pols = wooly livestock.  We’re off to a good start here.

Next, we’re gonna throw in a scary voice.  The scary voice is a fairly effective attack ad weapon.  Why?  Because it’s scary.  Watch the video again.  Notice how, when the bucolic meadow is overshadowed by looming clouds of blackness like frickin’ Mordor, and the sheep tumbles from his lofty marble perch like a defeated Lucifer in Paradise Lost while the Temple Choir of our Dark Lord Mephistopheles begins its gothic hymn, your heart rate quickens and you begin to sweat?  It’s the scary voice.

And that sheep!  That damned ovine son-of-a-bitch on that pillar!  What does he think he’s all about way up there above the other sheep?  We’ll take care of that proud bastard with an animation that we borrowed from Monty Python!

MORE GOTHIC CHOIR!

Then comes the part of the ad that lags (if you’re me and you’re watching this as a performance piece): the “data” part of the attack ad.  Now, I don’t know anything about Tom Campbell or his record, but I do know this:  the scary voice is saying scary things, and that makes me scared.  Another good strategy is to cut some pictures of pigs in there, too.  I’m not sure what the pigs represent–maybe that’s the downfall of this ad.  Or maybe pigs are the mortal enemies of sheep.  Note to self: ask a farmer if this is true.  Also cut some shots of “Californians” into there, because everyone in California is beautiful…and younger than Tom Campbell.

What could possibly top a scary voice reading of facts concerning Tom Campbell’s fiscal conservatism?  There!  At 2 minutes, 26 seconds!  Was that an ewok?  No…it’s a man wearing loafers and a sheep costume with evil red LED eyes peeking out from behind a tree, watching the other sheep like a pedophile at a playground.  For the next 30 seconds of the ad this demon sheep will prowl through the herd, mugging for the camera while the scary voice and the Sauron Singers continue to terrify us!  What can we do?  From whence will our heroine appear with gleaming armor and the flashing sword of righteousness?  Who will stand up to save us from this blight that has fallen upon our once peaceful and bucolic land!?

It’s…a woman I can’t see very well…I think.  She’s married.  Apparently she’s an outsider…but the scary voice is still talking!  And the gothic choir is still singing!  WHY ARE THEY STILL SCARING ME?!

Genius.  The Demon Sheep Satanic Opera is absolute genius from start to finish.  Bravo.

Cheers,

؟

Paying Respect…

Should have done this earlier, but I’ve had my head bowed…figuratively speaking…for most of the day.

Rest in peace, J. D.

Futility Checkout

The executive who came up with the idea of self-checkouts must want to kill himself.  It seems like such a really good idea at first.  One thinks to oneself, “Ah!  A self-checkout!  Now I won’t have to wait in line just to buy a quart of milk!”  Unfortunately, one quickly realizes only in Shangri-la, Utopia, or Plato’s Republic would the self-checkout work this way.

Nothing discourages my faith in the basic capacities of human beings quite like standing in line for a self-checkout.  It reminds me that there is a statistically significant portion of our population that cannot count to fifteen…for surely if they could count to fifteen they would not stand beneath a bright red sign that reads “Fifteen Items Or Less.”  Surely they would realize that this prohibition is in place to insure that the self-checkout move quickly and efficiently, thus fulfilling its purpose of speeding along low item count customers.  Now I can understand if there were, say, sixteen items.  We all make mistakes.  But if you have an entire cart that’s filled to the very top, you have to reasonably assume that there are at least…what…eighteen items there?

Standing there in line behind a seven people with cartloads full of sacked vegetables (when they don’t know how to scan then) and poorly packaged goods whose barcodes are obscured, I find myself longing for that perfect world where the self-checkout works like it should.  But that world is a pipe dream.  I know it.  You know it.  The executive who came up with this idea knows it.  That’s why he must want to shoot himself in the face, because that’s what I want to do when I’m standing in that line.

Cheers!

؟

Words are Life

Good morning, Readers.

This post will be short.  Not much time to blog now, but I wanted to share a quotation I came across that really struck me.  It’s a quote from historian Jacques Barzun who wrote (among many other things, and along with Henry Graff) The Modern Researcher which was the major text book for my research methods class in graduate school.

“The price of learning to use words is the development of an acute self-consciousness. Nor is it enough to pay attention to words only when you face the task of writing—that is like playing the violin only on the night of the concert. You must attend to words when you read, when you speak, when others speak. Words must become ever present in your waking life, an incessant concern, like color and design if the graphic arts matter to you, or pitch and rhythm if it is music, or speed and form if it is athletics.”  – Jacques Barzun

Cheers!

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Okay, I Dropped the Ball

Well, here I am not one month into 2010, and I’ve already shirked on my resolution to blog every week.  I’d apologize for this, but I believe that 2010 has, thus far, failed to uphold its end of our bargain, thereby freeing me from any obligation to adhere to any resolutions I may have made.  When 2010 decides to pick up its slack, then we’ll see about renegotiating our deal.  I blame my inattentiveness to my blog on a combination of work and my proclivity for tracking major news events in the 24 hour cable news cycle (as such I would like to lend my voice to thousands of others in telling Pat Robertson to go to hell).

It hasn’t helped my creative mood that my city has been under a blanket of chilling fog for the past four days.  I’m starting to think that I’m in a Stephen King movie…and if that’s the case I’m gonna be pissed–not because some horrible abomination too hideous to contemplate might eat me the second I set foot in the open air, but because I frickin’ hated The Mist.  If I’m gonna die in a Stephen King movie, I’d much rather it be Carrie.  Being scorched to an unrecognizable heap of fleshy slag by a disturbed, menstrual teenage girl with anger management problems would be preferable to being ripped to shreds by giant angry beetles/sacrificed by a mob of idiots led by a proselytizing old bitty to appease an angry God/euthanizing my child and few surviving friends only to be rescued moments later by the army.

It’s gonna be one of those weeks.  I say that not just because of the unabating fog, but also because I get that feeling.  Enough weird and annoying things have happened already this morning to indicate to me that my misanthropy index is gonna be high for the remainder of the week.  This would be a good thing if I actually had to get out and do anything, but fortunately I will be holed up in the study editing the hell out of Unpublished Novel, a process in which I am woefully behind.

For now, here’s a laugh at my expense:

Cheers,

؟

Negative-Effing-Two…Screw you, Dan Farenheit!

- Warning:  This post is not for the kids -

Never did I think it was possible for a website to sum up my feelings.  But I was wrong, for now my new favorite source for weather updates has succinctly described my feelings about the current weather in my particular corner of the Plains:

Now I know why the people kept going until they hit California.  Now where’s my goddamned brandy?

This weather has been brought to you by thefuckingweather.com

Cheers,

؟

Out with Oh-Nine, In with Ought-Ten.

So this is Christmas
And what have you done?
Another year over,
and a new one just begun

Well, it’s not really Christmas anymore, but the lyrics to John Lennon’s “Happy Christmas” have been bouncing around in my head lately.  Here we are on the third day of 2010, and I’m  sitting in the wreck of my studio wondering about this new year.

On the whole, 2009 was not a very good year for a lot of people for many different reasons, some large and some small.  I can list a load of things that went wrong for me last year, but that would be neither productive nor complete (as my often faulty memory would likely fail m on some of 2009’s missteps).  Instead, I’ll list the accomplishments.  There’s few enough of them that I’m less likely to forget any.

1.)  I finished the first draft of Unpublished Novel 2: Return of the Characters You Don’t Know.
2.)  I actually met a decent girl who shares my love of smart-assery and period movies–she critiques the costuming while I criticize the portrayal of historical events (seriously, can I have just one period flick where they don’t compress two-hundred years of human experience into a one-minute montage?)
3.)  Corollary to#2, I have unintentionally learned quite a bit about collections theory, thanks to all of my girlfriend’s papers I’ve edited over the semester.  She’s getting an MA in Museum Studies, which–ipso facto–means that I am getting an informal MA in Museum Studies, I suppose.  Huzzah.
4.)  I accomplished a lot at work, all of which is detailed exhaustively in my performance review, and none of which I will reproduce here in order to avoid boring  my two three readers (Hello there, two three readers!)
5.)  I started painting.  Some of my (not)art can be viewed on this very blog.  None of it will you find hanging in a gallery, or a coffee shop, or even plastered to a wall in a muck-strewn alley frequented by criminals, the homeless, and drunken co-eds stumbling back to campus after a night of drinking and questionable debauchery atop a paper towel dispenser in a tawdry bar bathroom.
6.)  Thanks to the Midwest and it’s dog-shit winter, I’ve learned more about driving on ice than I thought I’d ever need to know.
7.)  Another life goal was added to my list about two months ago, which I will eventually get around to blogging about later.
8.)  I buried an old hatchet with someone this past year.  My other hatchets are still quite sharp though, and for good reason.
9.)  I pissed off at least one person.  Actually I’m sure that I pissed off many people, since that I what I tend to do by virtue of the fact that I’m sarcastic, blunt, and expect people to engage me on my terms without getting their feelings hurt.  But this one person stands out because of the circumstances.  It seems that my take on the collective media orgasm surrounding the death of the King of Pop didn’t suit with her, and she opted to end our “friendship” (actually  more of an acquaintance)…via Facebook.  I still laugh about that.  Ahh, good times.

Nine being the number of the Muses, circles of Hell, worthies in the Middle Ages, rings of power forged for mortal Men, and thus the number of Ringwraiths,  I’ll go ahead and stop there.  In all, I guess it wasn’t a truly horrible year for me.  I still have a job and a place to live.  Sure, 2009 had its moments of unequaled crapitude,  but then a lot of scotch, some wine, a little bourbon, and more than a few beers were had, so it all evens out.

Normally I’m not one to make resolutions.  I used to make them, but the third time that I failed to quite smoking and maintain an exercise regimen I just gave up doing it.  I’m not a person who runs on treadmills (or at all).  I get my exercise hiking trails when I can.  As for the other thing, I suppose that I will always be a person who vents his frustration by taking it out on himself, so I am liable to smoke now and then.  It won’t be frequent, it may not even happen this year, but it will probably happen.  At least I reach for scotch and a cigarette instead of spoon and a syringe.  This year, though, I think that I am going to try some resolutions, but I am keeping the bar low:

1.)  First, I resolve to blog more.  I know that you miss me, Two Three Readers, and my smart-assed invective against what are mostly inane aspects of life.  So right now I resolve to cook up a new post for you at least once a week, even if I have to phone it in.   (I told you, we’re keeping the bar low here.)
2.)  Second, I resolve to paint more.  I was painting quite frequently when I started, but I slacked off as I got more involved with finishing my novel, and had to stop entirely when I started remodeling the studio by virtue of the fact that my drawing table has shit all over it.  Now that the table’s cleaned off–and in the spirit of keeping the bar low–I resolve to produce at least one piece of (not)art every month.
3.)  I haven’t had the privilege of actually attending an opera since I was in high school.  I love the opera, and therefore resolve to see at least one opera this year.  Preferably it’ll be Verdi.
4.)  I resolve to pursue my photography more actively.  I have a few good shots, but if I actually took it seriously and learned some technique it might be even better.
5.)  Lastly (and perhaps most importantly) I resolve to have the final manuscripts of Unpublished Novel and Unpublished Novel 2: Return of the Characters You Don’t Know finished by December 1, 2010.  Perhaps if the Muses are kind I’ll even have time to start Unpublished Novel 3: Revenge of the Villain You’ve Never Heard Of.

And so, in the spirit of new beginnings, I raise my wine glass to you, Two Three Readers (and anyone else who may have stumbled by).  Sláinte, Salud, Salute, Santé, Prost, Mazel tov, and Cheers!

؟

Damn-cember

Can I get a reset button on this holiday?

Without going into gory details, it’s not gone well for ol’ Snarky this year, and I’d really like a do-over.  I like Christmas.  Really, I do.  It’s the one time of year when get to be slightly more sincere than I normally am.  It’s about the only holiday I get really enthusiastic about.

But this year my happy holiday has become more of an endurance challenge.  If I can make it past New Years then I will have won the right to exist for another year, I guess.

I’d swear here, but there might be small children reading.  If there are, in fact, small children reading, then shame on your parents for not watching you more closely on the internet!

I’ve really been trying.  After I recovered from my morning migraine yesterday, I sat in my apartment waiting for the layers of snow and ice outside of my apartment to melt and considered all of my broken or breaking appliances, the inescapable realization that I have no choice but to resign my lease with my horrible management company, and that I may end up spending Christmas by myself because I can’t afford the 700 mile trek home.  I then went downtown to sell things I no longer needed for a pittance of cash so that I could buy three days’ worth of food.  The economic crisis has finally hit Dr. Snarky.  Hooray capitalism.

And I’m not the only one who’ s having an abnormally crappy time this holiday.  Most of the people I talk to are having it rough for a variety of different reasons.  Ergo I don’t think that I am being self-centered in calling for a holiday reset.  This is for the people, dammit.

In other news, novel editing continues, albeit slowly and with phrases such as, “write more stuff here” scrawled into the margin in lieu of actual ideas.  I’m hoping that today’s workload will be a light one, because we also finally received the report on our institutional assessment, and that may take yet another whack at whatever holiday spirit I have remaining.

So, for now, Merry frickin’ Christmas.

Cheers.

؟

Turkey Day

Happy Thanksgiving, all.  No update for a while, so I thought I’d pop in to wish you all plump, succulent turkeys and savory dressings today before I start on my own epic cooking venture.  Snarky fancies himself quite the cook, but he’s never attempted the traditional Thanksgiving before.  Perhaps he should have taken the recommendation of a colleague and gone with chicken tetrazzini instead.  Who would have known?  It’s not like my place is being featured in the holiday edition of better homes and gardens.  The day is more about who you spend it with anyway, and this year, rather than eating a turkey sandwich on the road or in an airport somewhere, Snarky’s spending the day with his gal.  We’ll probably go through some bottles of white wine and may kill each other by the end of it–which would, ironically, be the “traditional” Thanksgiving to which I am accustomed.  Ah, family.

Before I go, I thought I’d rattle off a few things for which I am thankful.  In no particular order:

• Starbucks Thanksgiving blend coffee
• Completed manuscripts
• Winter coat sales
• Days off
• Public campgrounds
• Canon digital cameras
• Stupidity
• Post-It notes, dry erase markers, and Moleskine notebooks
• Federal grants and generous benefactors
• Keith Olbermann and Rachel Maddow…ah hell, everybody over at MSNBC,  I suppose…except you, Buchanan
• The Library of Congress Legislative Indexing Vocabulary (even though they changed the damned thing halfway through our project…the bastards)

Have a good one, folks!

Cheers!

؟

This Old Room

In my apartment (affectionately dubbed the Sanctum Sarcasmus) there is a room in which all of my creative endeavors occur.  I do all of my writing in there.  I paint in there.  I sit around and brood over particularly troublesome bits of narrative in there.  I have even, on occasion (and when this room was located in another apartment in another state) slept in there.  This room is a poorly organized room–it’s a combination of study, artist’s studio, library, spare bedroom, and storage area…and as such it is often quite cluttered.  Having finally reached my wits’ end with this arrangement, and in an effort to avoid the coming seasonal affective disorder to which, I have discovered, I am particularly prone having never actually experienced a “winter,” I am undertaking a project to keep myself occupied.

This project started as an idea to build my own computer.  My poor laptop is nearing the end of its lifespan (a fact of which it reminds me every five to ten minutes).  Rather than spent a lot of money on a new Dell or some such, I’ve decided to save a few dollars and experience the tactile pleasure of building my new machine.  I know what you’re thinking; don’t worry.  I’ve done this before (a long time ago), and I have people I can ask for help (people of varying degrees of trustworthiness).  What could go wrong?

Anyway, my idea to build myself a new computer has mushroomed into a new vision for the entire room.  I’m going to be cleaning, re-arranging, and building in order to create a new study/studio/writing space.  To stroke my own vanity (and to keep the few of you who might be interested informed) I’m going to photo-document this process.  Since every makeover has before and after photos, here are the before photos:

As you can see, I tend to keep it dark in here.  So let’s turn on a light.

Now. I have little space to work with here, and some big furniture. In the center of the photo you will see my desk. I’ve had this desk for a long time now, and though it’s beaten up and work, it’s very special to me. I’ve written two novels, my undergraduate and graduate theses, and numerous papers at this desk. Over on the left you will see the most problematic aspect of my study: it doubles (triples?) as a guest bedroom. I don’t often have guests, so usually the thing just sits there taking up space. Most of my furniture (including this bed) has been in the family for years, so I just can’t bring myself to get rid of it.

This is a shot of the entryway.  Yes, I also managed to cram a television in there.  Unfortunately, the damned thing is in such an inconvenient spot that it can’t be seen comfortably from anywhere in the room, basically.

In the corner of the room opposite the bed and to the right of my desk is my drafting table, where I compose create murder all of my (not)art. There’s also a perfectly out-of-sync filing cabinet and a stack of empty recycled binders.

Here’s a better view of my desk area. I have a lot crammed on it, which leaves me little room to spread out. That’s a problem: whatever I’m working on will expand to cover whatever space I am allotted, but there’s a baseline minimum amount of space that I need to start with. One goal of this project will be getting that bookshelf onto the floor so that it’s not consuming all of my desk space. You may also notice the laptop–another goal (and by far the most expensive one) will be to replace that aging machine with a new desktop model.

Here is the closet, which is on the same wall as the entryway. Like most closets it’s full of crap I don’t really need.

And there’s the proof.  Old sheets and other bedding, Christmas decorations, clothes I never wear, etc.  One more note about these closets: the doors slide on a track, but there’s only a track at the top, leaving the doors free to swing…so free that they will frequently fall completely off the track.  I hate them, but there’s not much I can do about them.

And finally, no poorly utilized space would be complete without the under-the-bed space in which to store more crap.  Here we see my tools, some boxes full of God-knows-what from when I moved last year, and some artwork I didn’t bother to hang on the walls.

I’ll try to keep you all updated as the project unfolds.  I’ve decided that my first step should be to clear out the closet.  That’s the most basic place to start and will require very little money to do.  Also, I may have an idea for that space….  Stay tuned!

- Cheers!

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