Thursday, October 28, 2010

Friday, October 15, 2010

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

I still have a soul



I realize this is an ad for HBO but I still like it, for obvious reasons.

Speaking of which if you haven't checked out the Banksy beginning for the new simpsons...
click here to see it.



Is it recuperation? Is it detournment? Is it post modern irony? Is it all of the above?

Thursday, September 30, 2010

The Tree and the Cat



The russians obviously make great cartoons.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Dick Jokes

"Fuck you faggot," the young gay hipster said to me as I sat down. I was taken aback. I opened my book. "I'm just trying to practice a bit," he said. "I'm trying to start saying fag, or faggot like a normal straight guy. Its not really working that well."

I shrugged and opened my book as I waited for sign ups to begin. I'd been to Brainwash, the cafe/laundromat before with a friend. We'd come on thursday for the open mic comedy night. Hordes of aspiring comedians come to the laundromat to drink beer and tell bad jokes. Tonight I resolved to be one of them. I looked up from my book and saw a middle aged man in a trench coat. As he strode before me I noticed that he wore only bondage underwear. "Faggot," I cried.

"Oh my gawd, that was so inappropriate," the gay hipster cried in between shreiks of laughter. "I seriously want to suck a dick, seriously. What's your name?"

I went inside with him and we signed up. I would be number 24 which meant a long wait. Each comedian got roughly four minutes, plus or minus depending on the emcee, Tony Sparks, accounting of the clock. I sat at the front and watched a handful of comedians. Most of them told bad jokes. The funniest joke was; "Who gets full eating pussy? - Cannibals." I didn't laugh but I wrote it down.

I was a little nervous about my own bit. I'd been working on it for a week or so, honing it into perfection, but was worried about the racist comment in it about black people not tipping. I resolved to do the joke when a black woman, who had been sitting in the front of the audience heckling the comedians, bought a round of drinks. She didn't tip.

My bit went as follows.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------

I hate my job. I work as a server at a restaurant in Berkeley. You'll never notice my loathing as I'm so good at putting on a happy face. I'm a ray of sunshine when I greet my customers.

"Hi, My name is Matt, what can I get for you?"

This actually translates into: "You fucking terds! Stuff your shit pits as fast as you can til they burst then give me all your money cuz I'm here to get PAID!"

I hate even being there. I always take smoke breaks. I don't smoke but I like to stand outside, it makes me feel all tingly. I hate when people ask me for cigarettes though. I never give my smokes away cuz if I don't have any cigarettes I can't take smoke breaks.

Waiting has made me a terrible person. I've become a compulsive liar. When a customer asks me; "Oh would you recommend this salad?"

I reply, "Its delicious." Even if that salad tastes like ground up baby sauteed in pig shit. Its ridiculous, who asks that? Of course I'm going to say its good, its like asking a prostitute if her vagina is tight.

I've also become racist from waiting tables. I wasn't always like this. I used to be a nice guy with a nice smile, a real ray of sunshine.

Now when someone comes into the restaurant I look at them and see a pie chart over thie heads depicting their spending habits and if they're black, latino, asian, a foreigner, or under 21 that pie in teh sky says; "Fuck You Waiter!!"

I remember the tipping point. I was a liberal guy in Berkeley, the lefty paradise. There is no racism in Berkeley. I had a table of middle aged black ladies and I gave them excellent service.

"Extra napkins, no problem!" "Lemons? I've got them right here." "Tartar sauce for your pizza? My pleasure to serve."

They even got waters for their entire table, which they didn't drink. That's like going to the bathroom and not pissing, or wearing a condom and not fucking a bitch.

I gave them exquisite service. I drop the check and thank them. A few minutes later I pick it back up. I don't open it right away. I say to myself; "I don't believe in stereotypes, I don't believe in stereotypes, I don't believe in stereotypes." I open the book up... Fucking Black People!!!

They put $5 on a $60 check. Its like that 90s rap song chorus is going through their head all the time. "I got five on it!" $5 on a $20 check that's good but $5 on $60 that's less than 9%. Fuck I'm here to get paid.

---1---- I know, I know, its a cultural thing. Its not something you can blame anyone for. Its just not part of the culture to tip well, its like how being cool is not part of white culture.

Anyways this is my first time doing stand up and I thought I'd be really nervous, or embarrassed. I just did the sensible thing and pictured you all naked which is giving me an erection. I don't know if I should be nervous about my boner or embarrassed the my dick is so small you can't see it.
------------------------------------------------------------------

No one really laughed during the bit. I got off the stage and some bearded dude started talking to me while the emcee talked about how black people don't tip because waiters don't give good service, don't quote me on that though. I also forgot one of the last jokes, marked above with a 1. I probably came across as even more racist than I actually am. Oh well, the plight of being white.

It was a good experience if I did "bomb." It taught me a few things; 1) maybe I'm not funny 2) White dudes making fun of black people is probably just racist and not funny 3) no one thinks complaining about customers as a waiter when you're at a cafe is humorous.

I don't intend on doing another bit. I think I'm pretty happy with how I'll be known after doing this bit, as a racist with a small dick.

Monday, September 20, 2010

Red Shirt Redux- From the Economist



FOR much of April and May, Bangkok’s Rajprasong shopping district was taken over by a raucous protest movement that was eventually quashed by the army. On Sunday, four months after that episode ended in bloodshed, the “red shirts” were back. Several thousand showed up to chant anti-government slogans, release red balloons, tie ribbons on lampposts and call for justice and democracy. If you squinted, and ignored the charred shopping centre torched during the clashes, it was a vision of the April demonstrations. But Sunday’s influx of protesters did not linger. By evening, the crowd had drifted away, having made their point: the red shirts are back.

Thailand’s prime minister, Abhisit Vejjajiva, has tried to push the tragic events of April and May into the background. He has appointed various committees to investigate the violence and to address social and economic inequities in Thailand. Officials tried to frame the red-shirt revolt as a power play by Thailand’s former prime minister, Thaksin Shinawatra, who has been accused of bankrolling the protests and inciting violence. Thailand’s economy has picked up steam, defying predictions of a downturn in the second quarter. Mr Abhisit’s supporters hope that continued growth and a large dollop of welfare spending will save him from defeat when parliamentary elections are held, sometime next year.

Sunday’s gathering was a riposte to such glib optimism. Red shirts are still fuming over their rough treatment by the army, which stands squarely behind Mr Abhisit. A popular slogan at Rajprasong was "Stop Killing People". Others made the point that though 91 people were killed, most of them at the hands of heavily armed soldiers, the army has shown no remorse. “We want society to remember that people died here. Everything the government says is one-sided,” said a middle-aged woman. As if to confirm her view, Thailand’s state-run broadcast media largely ignored the protest in Bangkok, as well as a large rally held in Chiang Mai.

The red shirts are no angels. Armed militants emerged from the shadows during clashes with troops; some of the dead and injured were soldiers, including a decorated army colonel. Low-level thuggery has often marred red-shirt protests in Bangkok and elsewhere. The charred shopping centre is a reminder of the chaos they unleashed on the capital's downtown in May. Many Thais are turned off by both the pro-Thaksin red shirts and their arch-rivals, the royalist "yellow shirts", who occupied Bangkok’s international airports in December 2008.

Mr Abhisit rode to power on the back of the yellow-shirt protest movement. He has failed to bring them to task for their transgressions, even while hundreds of red shirts were rounded up and jailed in May. Much of the movement’s leadership is in prison or on the run. Mr Thaksin lives overseas, and flits between countries on various passports, thumbing his nose at Thai efforts to extradite him over a politically motivated corruption conviction. He is among the red-shirt figures facing terrorism charges, though few expect him to stand trial.

Bangkok has been under a state of emergency since April, but Sunday’s protest was allowed to go ahead. That it ended peacefully may give the government room to lift the emergency when it comes up for renewal in two weeks. But that does not mean that the capital is secure. A series of bombings and attempted bombings have been blamed on militants among the red shirts. Thailand’s southernmost provinces have been under emergency rule for five years as troops battle a shadowy Muslim-led insurgency. That conflict shows no sign of ending. The national politics is coming to bear an uncanny resemblance.