Writing snob
I’m a full on writing snob. And I’m sorry about that; but at the same time, I’m not sorry.
If you write something that I find unforgivably terrible — for example, an angst-ridden seven-page anecdote about your boyfriend breaking up with you — and you don’t expect anyone else to read it but yourself, I can dig that. But if you hand it to me, ask for feedback, and expect to hand it in for a grade, I am going to tear your work a new one.
I’m a harsh critic. When critics are too nice, they irk me. When they’re too soft, I want to use them in a pillow fight and smack the writer over the head with the critics’ resolve. To be a good critic, you’ve got to be tough. Constructive and knowledgable, of course. But above all else, you’ve got to be tough.
And if you can’t handle the torture of a very frank review — one in which the writer may insist that you retake a course of Basic College Writing — then perhaps you shouldn’t put pen to paper again. If you can’t defend your writing in front of the critic, then you should realize that something is wrong before it’s too late.
But — but — if you can absorb what the critic has to say, respond maturely, and learn from that harsh beating instead of try to fight against it, then you stand a chance of getting better. You stand a chance of improving your writing. And most of all, you may just become a Writing Snob yourself.
That’s why I am who I am. I don’t want to hurt. I want to help. And I’m sorry if there ever comes a time where you misunderstand that.
National Have A Day Day
In light of the recent development of the February 29th Shut Down The Corporations National Day Of Action, and in commemoration of the November 17th Revolutionary Organization, Occupy Occupations has declared that every day will be National Have A Day Day.
National Have A Day Day is a call to action for all people across the world. Act up in a day of nonviolent protest of not having a day, a day of speaking for your right to have a day, one day where you — yes, you! — can be an integral part of making sure that every human, 1% or 99%, living or dead, has the ability to have a day.
Imagine a world where nobody could simply enjoy having a day. That’s the dysfunctional dystopian dysentery that we will soon call Earth. We must fight now to make sure that everyone has a day, and we must utilize all of our efforts on National Have A Day Day, which is every day in case we didn’t make ourselves clear.
The more we as a global community sit on our asses and eat oxygen, the farther away a future becomes where everyone has a day.
Leap into action! Reclaim our future! Have a day!
Today's TV Trope: In The Name Of The Moon!
In related news: I’ve always wanted to do a Youtube show where I talk about TV Tropes articles in an inebriated state, but 1) I would shame my ancestors and 2) any time that I landed on a Magical Girl trope I would possibly go into a passionate rant about my elementary school crush on Sailor Mercury, and I don’t know whether that’s better or worse than a concerned phone call from my mother.
(I know she’s reading this. I know she’s reading this and thinking, “Why am I sending my son to college instead of making him work in a rock quarry?”)
Cooking whilst listening to “Check Yo Self” by Ice Cube.
Today was a good day.
Having a beer with Rick Santorum.
I would walk into the bar. He’d sit there with his head on the counter, one hand draped over the side dangling inches above the tap.
He’d sense my presence. His head would turn in my direction. A single tear would run down his cheek. I’d suppose that he’d had a rough day. People berated his wife for dating an abortion doctor. They called him out on his homophobic agenda. They bullied his children and tarnished their innocence.
I’d smile and beckon the bartender. “Two Heinekens,” I’d say.
I’d take a seat next to him. He’d smile back at me, like a lost puppy who just found his only friend. The bartender would come over with our beers. “Here you go, sir. Here you are, Mr. Senator.”
He’d raise his bottle as a toast to me. I’d toast back, crack open the top, and take a deep swig. We’d both sigh with the release of a long day’s work. I’d jab him in the shoulder to get his attention. He’d turn and say, “What’s up?”
Then I’d stare at his smug little face and say, in the flattest of tones: “Fuck you, Rick.”
THE END.
I hereby officially and enthusiastically endorse Newt Gingrich for president of the United States
Herman Cain - @thehill (via brooklynmutt)
GINGRICH-CAIN 2012. IT MUST HAPPEN.
“Keeping American affairs in mind, political or otherwise.”
(via brooklynmutt)
I should just make a cooking blog where I tell about the time I tried to make mozzarella sticks but I only had cheddar cheese and the cheese melted in the oil and the batter was too runny and flour got everywhere so instead I made pancakes with the batter and watched my stories on the Internet and cried about how I am a failure at cooking.
That time was five minutes ago.
«applause.»
But seriously, public urination.
Is it right? Absolutely not. Would you want someone making your stoop stink of piss?
Is it sometimes crucial? Absolutely. There are moments when your bladder just won’t wait, and the choice comes down to having a drenched spot on your crotch or possibly ending up in jail for violating someone’s private property, and you really like the sound of “jail” over “ridicule.”
Can anyone with the ability to pee do so in public? Of course! Dudes usually get stuck with being the archetypal offenders because they can utilize their wang as an aiming tool. But all walks of human life can leak their gizzards. Ladies simply need squat in an opportune location. If there is no opportune location, make your own. The Earth is your toilet.
Ah, the joys of public urination! The thrill of pissing off your neighbors in the literal sense! The pleasure of having an empty bladder whenever, wherever! The intrigue of the people who pass you by as you bless your fair planet with golden showers? Nothing is more wrong; and yet, nothing is more right.
This is an endorsement from the United States Government to pee wherever you wish. Go ahead. You deserve it.
Is everyone done being miserable now?
Last night, I might have mentioned that I led a group of inebriated children in the bodies of college students to their slumber. I should have also mentioned that every one of these infantile halfwits was blubbering about some minuscule drama that will have no earth-shattering effect on their lives.
I don’t know what it is about that witching hour between midnight and 4 AM, but all the emotions that boil inside of you wretched humans tend to spew out of all the orifices in your bodies. When you mix this with alcohol — and you should never do this — you become a slobbering mess and make terrible decisions. This is that terrible part of your life where you tell a guy you like him, try to kiss him, watch as he pushes you away, and spend the rest of your night curled up in a ball with vomit on your shoes watching Mona Lisa Smile with tears running down your ice cream covered cheeks.
There is nothing worse than feeling miserable except for being a miserable drunk. So I urge you all again: If you know that the next shot of Jäger is going to turn you from a relatively functional human being into a screaming mess of fleshy terror, tearing your hair out and pissing on the side of your best friend’s house because she called that guy that you like “a little bit chubby,” you should probably think twice.
Again, party as hard as you want. But consider this a warning.
Also, girls can pee wherever they want, too. Just because dudes have the ability to aim doesn’t make them any more qualified to urinate in public.
The King and Queen of Sobriety
I know that it’s 3:00 in the morning. I’m aware of the time. Allow me to vent, please.
I’ve just disconnected from a Skype conversation with a Wonderful Person. I’m redacting her name until I find the right time to reveal it to you. Before this, I was leading four drunkards through the dark back roads of Ithaca as they caroused about drama and having crushes on one another. You really must be careful with the love quadrangle. It’s a frightening mess to deal with as the only sober person in the group, so watching them deal with their insecurities was watching a train crash into a train wreck.
Before that, I had to toss Cool Bro into Bro’s Awesome Girlfriend’s car, since that was the only way of getting him into a right state of mind. God bless her, really. I don’t know what most of us in the Group would do without her around. We’d all probably be very sad.
I think that I take pride in being the sane one out of my friends, because although it provides more headaches for me, it means that at least one of us is well enough to keep us out of the shit. I’d rather be a sober, miserable human being having to drag two sloppy girls away from a moving car than a drunk, steaming asshole yelling at trees as I slump my way back to my apartment asnd end up typijg a adfblog post thaer loooks something llije thislz. It’s just a better way to live, in my honest opinion.
Drinking isn’t bad, kids. Moderation is key. If you want to have a beer with friends or a glass of wine over dinner, or if you want to go to the bar when you’re of age and get a cocktail because you’re classy, go ahead. The past participle, drunk, is bad. Don’t get drunk. When you’re drunk, you feel like you’re the king, except you’re definitely not that at all. Once you’re drunk, you either become that screeching sap who screams, “I LOVE EVERYONE IN THIS BAR!”, the angry, cathartic bastard who starts micro-examining his life and bursting out into tears, or the touchy feely weird person who starts making out with the couch. That’s not royal behavior, if you ask me.
What you do with your body is your own business. Use it, abuse it, make of it what you will. Just know that at the end of the night, when you’re wobbling about and seeing four street signs where there’s only one, and when the Mongoloid holding on to you looks like a damn easy hook-up; know that your sober friend is Your Sober Majesty.
You’re all welcome, by the way. And by the way, Wonderful Person, I miss you.
Reasons why the Internet won’t change, in order of events
- The governments of the world will continue to work together to pass gradually more repressing restrictions on the Internet, like ACTA and the Trans-Pacific Partnership Agreement.
- The laws will become so restrictive, in fact, that the wording of such laws would allow for criminal treatment of any kind of Internet use.
- The politicians of the nations involved would step back and look at their laws and say, “Man, even we don’t like these laws anymore.”
- The Internet will remain the same.
- Pigs will fly over Mars.
- The entire world will slap their foreheads so hard that the planet will fall out of orbit.
- Apocalypse 2012.
(PS: The Trans-Pacific Partnership Agreement is real and is very frightening. Click the link above to see what you can do to inform yourself and fight back on this fledgling controversial law.)
Study: People with low IQs tend to be socially conservative
A new study finds people with a low IQ tend to be socially conservative, which includes harboring prejudiced attitudes toward those of a different race and sexual orientations, the International Business Times reports.
Does this mean that people with high IQs harbor prejudiced attitudes towards everyone regardless of race and sexual orientation? Because I know quite a few people like that.
Making some radio magic happen in this studio.
I guess Catholics in Cranston, Rhode Island have nothing better to do than bully a 16-year-old girl. Pathetic.
We need to look at some facts here:
- Cranston High School West is a public high school, which means that they should be cognizant of differing religious beliefs, or lack thereof. Also, it’s a public school, an institution funded by taxpayer dollars which fund the state. I seem to remember somebody saying something about this. Somebody named Jefferson. He wasn’t that important, was he?
- Their website bears the tagline, “A place where we treat people as we would like people to treat us!” I’m not sure that this 16-year-old girl, who simply wanted a prayer removed from her school auditorium, would not have been half as vile as her community is currently acting towards her. The irony is asphyxiating.
I know that a lot of things are happening in America right now. I’m aware that in Florida, four men are fighting to win a losing battle. I’m aware that there is rampant sexism in our society. I’m aware that everyone is angry with something.
But can’t we take a step back and look at the finer things in life? Let’s all just take a deep breath, make a nice hot chocolate beverage, and watch all fourteen episodes of The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzimaya.
You don’t have to, but I’m totally doing this right now.
And if you want to but can’t, I will go out of my way to make sure that you have a magical night of chocolatey, anime-filled goodness.
Consider this my State Of The Union address.
Socrates’ Closet for president in 2012.
