Not that my proclivity towards nigh-arrogant ranting and circuitous introspection demands any apologies*, but I realized this weekend there are some significant though well-concealed advantages to being a self-absorbed navel-gazer.
You’re going to need me to back that one up, aren’t you?
OK, let’s start with this brilliantly clever circle graph that received its fifteen minutes of fame when it landed on the front page of HuffPo last Friday.
To some, this may seem like an outright insult to Christians on a national level. To others, it comes off… well, it comes off exactly the same way; it’s just that this group of people delights in the insult instead of taking offense to it. It’s why we have wars, you know.
But what if the philosophical implications of this graphic are deeper than either of those cramped assumptions? Isn’t it possible the obvious joke is only there as an appetizer for your brain? Could there be something beyond the glib comparison of three movie monsters to the Messiah?
And if I can get you to see what I’m pointing at, can I then use the same similes and metaphors to confuse things and diminish the entire thing back down to a trite GraphJam entry?
Only one way to find out, I guess.
So anyway, being an artist by profession, I have an appreciation for color that perhaps my non-creative friends lack. Nevertheless, most people who see the above image would take note, albeit to varying degrees, of what could potentially be the most significant aspect of the illustration: that the hues change tint as they overlap. Oh sure, it’s done primarily to distinguish the individual circles while avoiding the clutter of each circle having a black stroke around it. But if we’re willing to assume a respectable level of intelligence for the graphic artist, we can very easily contrive some other, more important symbolism in this design.
For example, considering the person’s artistic nature, we can decide that the three circles are a subliminal color-mixing palette. Voila! Instant Philosophical Proposition! We are now conveniently positioned to make the symbol represent whatever we want simply by piously stating, “The final question is this: do you see God as additive or subtractive?”
The beautiful cleverness of this is that we’ve now opened up the argument for what defines something as additive and what makes something subtractive. Further applying these parameters to an omnipotent being keeps the idea immortal by giving rise to mutually exclusive factions, each with its own specialized and unequivocal interpretation of the image.
The Three-Circle Purists say the underlying message merely reinforces the graphic’s original idea that God is the culmination of all monstrosities to the point of becoming the blackest monster of them all. They refer to the very manner in which the tints darken as they progress towards Jesus Christ as their evidence. Declaring him to be a subtractive deity, they give God the name “Simmik” (spelled cmyk) and dub him the Bringer of Blackness.
The Paradoxicals, however, insist that the diagram represents Jesus’ tendency to spend the majority of his ministry in the presence of the most misguided, baleful sinners and that the choice of colors is intended as a subtle testament to that necessary irony. They claim repeatedly – almost to the point of recitation – that it is light from which God and all good things are born and thus, just like light, God must be additive, To them, the completeness of God results in a clean, perfect whiteness. He is given the title “Regrebloo the Pure”. Countless hymns are composed rejoicing in the promise of that glorious day when all colors will come together to form the most perfect White.
Of course, the cynical 3-CPs are all over that with shouts of racism and accusations of a religiously driven eugenic agenda. Science fiction novels begin to be regularly presented as oracular tomes. PK Dick and Isaac Asimov become revered as great prophets.
The Doxies then issue a collective sardonic snort by taking out full-page ads and erecting billboards likening fundamentalist 3-C doctrine to that of the Church of Scientology, citing as fact the very arguable notion that L. Ron Hubbard was also a science fiction author. This campaign fails miserably, however, as does their droll attempt to humiliate their adversaries by referring to them as “C-3POs”.
The battle rages for decades. Nonsensical self-help books emerge with titles like I, Robot. U Can’t Subtract! and Paradoxicals Do It With Guile. Passion becomes petulance and devotion turns into duress. A purist menacingly holds a 2x4 like a baseball bat and a doxie pulls his handgun…
Then, only after countless lives have been lost to the argument, does the illustration’s creator (by now aged 106) finally issue a public statement declaring that he is, in point of fact, completely colorblind.
And just like that, the sum of time and energy dedicated to either side of the debate is fully devalued. All the stock placed in both ideals is instantly obliterated. Every measure of strength and motivation imbued by the conflict is just as effectively depleted.
There was really never anything more to the illustration than an insensitive jape…
…right?
*In fact, some people actually like that sort of thing. I simply provide a service – an abrasive but oddly arousing service. So do hookers, but unlike a prostitute, I service you free of charge.
No, it's not the name of a new Disney after-school TV series. Sorry to disappoint.
The title of this post is actually referring to a couple of super-awesome photos from Amanda's recent trip to Colorado, where she enjoyed the rare and thrilling experience of having her face tasted by a full-grown wolf. Not many can say they've done that, you know, because usually they are dead or unable to form words through all the scar tissue...
It's five in the morning on a Monday.
You awaken to what feels like an angry blacksmith is using your bladder for a bellows.
You waste no time in getting out of bed.
Bleary, you shamble off to the bathroom.
The sound of a heavy Seattle downpour is coming in through a tiny, high-set window.
Just then, the toes of your right foot come to rest in a puddle of cold water.
NOW ANSWER QUICKLY: What is the first thought to enter your mind upon feeling the wetness?
Perhaps one of these?
A) The roof is leaking!!! Aaaaaiieeeee!!!
B) Well, at least it's not a warm puddle...
C) That reminds me, we need paper towels.
D) Hmm, I don't live in Seattle, so I must be dreaming.
E) Hmm, I don't have a right foot, so I must be dreaming.
F) Ew.
G) What an interesting coincidence there happened to be a heavy rain just when I discovered the watery evidence of a failed toilet shutoff valve.
For what it's worth, the first choice above was my first reaction and the last one on the list was the reality.
It's funny how the brain will sometimes contrive a false connection between two similar but utterly unrelated pieces of data and then regard the resulting incorrect assumption as fact, referring back to the original irrelevant data as its proof.
The moral of the story is that sometimes people put beer in apple juice bottles.
Or something to that effect.
So my local news team "reported" today that Wal*Mart would be lowering thousands of prices over the next couple months. That was it. That was the "news" story.
Lord.
Is the general public really so dreadfully obtuse they can't immediately recognize blatant advertising when they see it, or are we all just perceived to be that way by those faceless tyrants we customarily refer to collectively as "The Man"?
I make my living in advertising, so I feel confident in stating that regularly scheduled price reductions at the world's largest purveyor of cheap plastic crap is not news. It's preferential, thinly veiled corporate promotion being passed off as journalism by disingenuous fat cats and the glorified narrators (for I refuse to call them journalists) who work for them.
Honestly, it's no secret that practically everyone is lowering prices right now. Target, Fred Meyer, Home Depot, you name it. That's what happens in a shit economy, kids. Inflation goes away and prices drop because money stops moving. Wal*Mart is neither unique nor leading in the price-dropping arena, but to hear King5 tell it, they're the only ones trying to move product in this recession and omigawd you better get down there before they run out of eleven-dollar ungrounded space-heaters!!!
I wonder: does Wal*Mart sell manure? You know, in case my local news channel ever runs out. They're shoveling it at us pretty fast these days.
Got a rather interesting shot of DG sneaking about in the dark and, well, you know me...
Aaaand here's another one I quite liked.
What kind of fancy-pantsy camera did I use, you ask? Must be an expensive SLR, you say? Can't get photos like that without giving up an arm and a leg, you tritely jest?
Well, my camera is not fancy, not an SLR, and no camera is worth giving up more than a few toes for.
This 12-megapixel jobby right here will give you pictures of this quality, only much bigger. I sized these down significantly for uploading.
DG wants to wish you all "a relaxee nite with nice and warm sleeps".
(Yes, he made me upsize and bold the font. I've learned it's really easiest just to indulge him when it doesn't put his health or anyone's safety at risk.)
"Alright, brain, you don't like me and I don't like you. But let's just do this, and I can get back to killing you with beer."
―Homer Simpson
OK, now just sort of change “killing” to “filling” and “beer” to “porn”.
Kidding. I’m a kidder. It’s really more cramming than filling.
Anyhoo… let’s get this stuff out of the way…
Query: Plenty of DG, but what happened to Diblet? Did he burn through all nine and you’re just not telling us?
Reply: He’s doing quite well, actually. He’s an adult now, you know, so he’d rather prefer if you called him by his grown-up name: Dib. He feels he is too mature now for his kitten name (although he still can’t help but get excited whenever I do my high-pitched “Dibalibalibalibalibalus!” call).
Interestingly, he never lost the baby face, so now he looks like a cat-sized kitten. I promised LT some photos as proof – and I do have a couple – but I must warn you that Dib is going through his Sean Penn phase and is simply not allowing any useful photographs to be shot of him. He squints. He turns away. He tries to slice your shutter finger wide open. One shot even contains the loathsome Hideous Chair of Ocular Agony without a slipcover!!! You’ve been warned.
Here’s what I was able to get:
Query: Your archive numbers are suddenly down to double digits and now I can’t find that picture of two people tugging at the vagina of a giant Pikachu! What in the name of all that’s wet and tentacled happened to a solid 87% of CimC!?
Reply: I axed it.
Well, technically, no sharp implements were involved, but I did eliminate most of the old content. I did this for several reasons having to do with things both personal as well as VOXian (not the least of which was my annual pity party known all-too-well by my veteran readers). The old stuff was separated into three categories:
1. Stays
2. Goes Into Compilation Book
3. Wish I’d Never Written It.
I still have everything, though, so if there was something you were trying to find that is now gone, just PM me and I’ll make it available to you.
Query: Why no blogee-blogee?
Reply: It’s complicated, so let me give you the People Magazine version. That way, I don’t have to reveal anything significant and you can feel like you’ve been duly informed.
When you make a lot of online friends, you eventually come to learn that a certain number of them are going to end up being completely narcissistic sociopaths. Similar statistical norms dictate that the more opinionated political screeds and snarky social diatribes you compose, the more likely you’re going to say things you regret (and in writing, no less!). Finally, maintaining this pastime known as blogging for more than a few years inevitably becomes pointlessly circuitous – at least for me – because, really, what more have I got to say? I’m not particularly wise, nor have I had more than a handful of notable experiences (the full collection of which I’ve already mentioned here, probably several times over). I don’t play the popularity game well at all and there’s positively no way I could ever find the time to keep up with the lives of all the peeps I’ve come to know and dearly love here at VOX. The result is a bittersweet blog that leaves behind the distinct (if metaphorical) aftertaste of sun-rotted squid parts.
In short: because I’m tired.
Query: What’s up with your increasingly desperate masthead and tagline updates?
Reply: It was a ramp-up to a Halloween contest I was planning on doing, but I’ve since lost the funding as well as the motivation to follow through with it. The masthead was just going to get sicker and sicker up until October 31 and the tagline by then would read: “Stick a fork in me... a pitchfork, if you like... won't make much difference... because, see, I have this condition… that requires you remove my head to kill me… which is hard to do with a fork of any kind… by the way, your brains’re quite nummy!”
Query: Why did the surgeon refuse payment for any circumcisions he performed?
Reply: He said he only took tips.
Yeah, so if you bought one of these babies or came to acquire one through some other dark and unspeakable act (I'm looking at you, Kevin Wolf), you should know it just became a collector's item of sorts. So, you know, maybe don't wear it while beheading chickens anymore.
******
from: content_review@zazzle.com <content_review@zazzle.com>
to: Kirk Starr
date: Tue, Oct 6, 2009 at 3:11 PM
subject: Zazzle Content Review: "The R'lyeh Thing" Dark Tee
Dear KirkStarr,
Thank you for your interest in Zazzle.com, and thank you for publishing products on Zazzle. Unfortunately, it appears that your product, Cthulhu - The R'lyeh Thing, contains content that is not suitable for printing at Zazzle.com.
We will be removing this product from the Zazzle Marketplace shortly. The details of the product being removed are listed below:
• Product Title: Cthulhu - The R'lyeh Thing
• Product Type: Shirt
• Product ID: 235698612861750512
• Result: Not Approved
• Policy Violations: Design contains a trademarked image or text. If you are interested in purchasing Official Licensed Merchandise from Zazzle please visit: www.zazzle.com/brandsDesign contains an image or text that infringes on intellectual property rights. We have been contacted by the intellectual property right holder and at their request we will be removing your product from Zazzle’s Marketplace due to intellectual property claims. We apologize for the inconvenience... If you have any questions or concerns about the review of your product, please email content_review@zazzle.com
Best Regards,
Content Review
Zazzle.com, Inc.
**
from: Kirk Starr
to: "content_review@zazzle.com" <content_review@zazzle.com>
date: Tue, Oct 6, 2009 at 5:42 PM
subject: Say it with me: parody... pa-ro-dy...
To whomever gets paid to read this:
My "Cthulhu - The R'lyeh Thing" design is clearly parody and is altered significantly from the original Coke logo. I obviously don't have the powerful lawyers Coke has, so I have no realistic recourse, but I did want to let you know how disappointed I am in Zazzle for being so quick to judge against the small private artist and kowtow to the impotent threats of giant corporations.
Anyway, while you're at it, why don't you go ask Bally Midway if they have a problem with parody? You might have to delete my Bass Invader products, as well.
Oh, and give Angus Young a call. See if he gets his knickers in a wad over my AD/HD t-shirt design.
I suppose next you'll be telling me a contingent of zombies has requested I remove all art with any reference to the undead.
Pretty sad, Zazzle. Pretty sad.
Kirk Starr
Artist
Victim of Censorship
**
from: Zazzle Customer Support <supportteam@zazzle.com>
reply-to: Zazzle Customer Support <supportteam@zazzle.com>
to: Kirk Starr
date: Wed, Oct 7, 2009 at 9:38 AM
subject: ZZZ:Zazzle Content Review: "The R'lyeh Thing" Dark Tee [Incident: 091006-001441] from Zazzle Customer
If this issue is not resolved to your satisfaction, you may reopen it
within the next 0 days.
Thank you for allowing us to be of service to you.
Dear Zazzler,
Thank you for your email.
Zazzle was contacted by The Coca Cola Company, and requested the removal of products that violated their trademark, copyright, trade dress, or intellectual property rights.
A detailed description of Zazzle content policies is available at http://zazzle.custhelp.com/cgi-bin/zazzle.cfg/php/enduser/std_adp.php?p_faqid=143
Zazzle galleries are public and users may contribute content freely. Although we make every effort to ensure that the marketplace are kept free of copyrighted or otherwise inappropriate content, sometimes certain inappropriate products may become available for purchase. We rely on the efforts of our users to bring inappropriate products to our attention by using the violation link that is located on every product page. This will notify our Content Management Team to review any potentially infringing products.
Thanks for using Zazzle.com.
Best Regards,
Mike
Content Management Team
Zazzle.com, Inc.
Some things are weighing heavy on my brain. Maybe they’ll climb down off me and stop jamming their stabby fingers through my skull if I expose them to the world by pointing to them and screaming like a recently castrated banshee.
Thing #1: My health insurance provider has informed me that they have instigated a “lifetime cap” on the meds I take daily to control my disorder. Basically, they’ve unilaterally decided to stop providing the medication I need once it no longer benefits them to do so.
Hum. I wonder why no other businesses get to take monthly payments from people without providing the service paid for. The letter made no mention of lowering my premium accordingly.
If you think I’m off my nut, imagine your thoracic surgeon just walking out of the operating room the moment his profit margin was significantly diminished. The extra time it took to stop the sudden bleeding in your bowel pretty much meant he couldn’t afford to finish the original job, much less suture you shut. Hey, he can’t make a living operating in the red!
Thing #2: My bank, like many financial institutions, saves up any transactions performed over weekend and runs them all through Monday morning. I’ve noticed that, regardless of the date and time of each transaction, they first run withdrawals, starting with the largest and proceeding in order down to the smallest. Then they apply whatever overdraft fees were incurred. They finish up by applying any deposits.
This practice makes it roundly impossible to believe they’re not actively trying to screw me.
The best way I can think of to make their con bite them in the ass is to disallow my money from benefiting them. I don’t make interest on my checking account and there is no minimum balance, so I intend to religiously withdraw my entire paycheck at lunch each payday.
The mason jars buried in my backyard aren’t into deception and divisive grifts. When it comes to matters of money, they’re downright transparent.
Thing #3: DG is doing bad things. I don’t know what has gotten into him – and I didn’t even think he was physically capable of it – but he’s started trying to spray everything in sight. Most of the time nothing comes out, but anyone with cats knows one time is too many.
We do everything we can to make sure the cats are content and comfortable. We filter their drinking water, for crying out loud! We even make regular use of a large spray bottle intimidatingly emblazoned with the words "BAD KITTY!" Nevertheless, the Deej seems intent on making our house smell like onion soup.
For what it's worth, I realized I’d analyzed this problem down to the point of completely losing sight of it when I started considering putting my own pee in the spray bottle.
I always hoped beyond hope that pedophile rapist Roman Polanski's constant need for validation would cause him to expose his soft pink underbelly. And it finally did. This is a great day. A terrible monster has been captured and will finally face justice.
The Oscar-winning film director Roman Polanski has been taken into custody in Switzerland in relation to a US arrest warrant, issued more than 30 years ago, for having sex with an underage girl.
Thank you, Switzerland, for doing the right thing. We simply cannot wait to have Polanski back in the States.
And shame on you, Gaurdian.uk, for mincing words. That piece of shit plied an underage girl with Quaalude and alcohol and then raped her in multiple ways. He didn't just "have sex" with her, you mealy-mouthed gits! Report the damn facts and stop watering down the sick freak's atrocities!
*So how many of you thought the title of this post was a euphemism for jerking off? OK, and how many of you think it now that I've mentioned it? See, I find stuff like that riotously funny. I'm a mess, I know.
