Create your very own episode of Star Trek with this handy-dandy chart from io9 which makes explicit that which astute fans will have long suspected: that if there’s antique furniture around, you will dance for the ambiguously gay god’s amusement.
Also, the correct spelling of the “red alert sound.”
Star Trek Plot Chart
Motown records brought black music by black musicians into the mainstream, and changed American culture forever. If you’d like a serious analysis of that, please go here. You know I ain’t got time for that shit.
Instead, I’d like to present two videos choreographed by very, very white people, and mashed up with some very, very black (although not Motown, it must be said, and indeed it WOULD have been said, had I not just said it myself, thus inocculating this blog against those so-called sayers and their nastily truthful accusations, now where was I?) music.
Bob Fosse‘s Mexican Breakfast featuring Gwen Verdon: original here. Unaccredited, vulgar ripoff by Beyonce here. More amusing version of same here. Walk It Out, Fosse version below:
And here is something that could only be made even whiter by the addition of Soulja Boy: Tappercize!
mashup from EverythingIsTerrible
You just can’t keep a bad ex-candidate down. Yes, the Dan Quayle of Alaska is back, with a retro holiday special sure to bring a tear to the eye.
from Jimmy Kimmel via SeriouslyOMG
Eat your heart out, Kevin Costner! Stolen from Defamer, here are two dancing with fish videos, American style. I believe you’ve all seen it done English style, yes? There is also (in escalating order of insanity) the Filipino fish dance, the Nigerian fish dance, Greek fish dance, Brazilian fish dance, the Nine Inch Nails Nation fish dance, and the traditional Naked Canadian fish dance.
First, robotically-enhanced animated anime figure Olivia Munn from Attack of the Show, trying and failing to perform a sexy duet with (in order) a trout (doesn’t look that old to me), a salmon (no word on if it was pink), and, in her pièce de résistance (and longtime readers will have seen this – so to speak – coming), a Squid.
Vodpod videos no longer available.
Next up, a long-forgotten starlet shimmys with another cold fish in this clip from the transcendant Vixen
Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Violence. The word and the act. While violence cloaks itself in a plethora of disguises, its favourite mantle still remains – sex. Violence devours all it touches, its voracious appetite rarely fulfilled.
So yesterday, there I was surfing around the Net and posting fun stuff to Facebook (and why wasn’t I posting to my blog more than an amusing, if mindlessly felonious, internet quiz? you ask, for lo you are very perceptive. Because a blog post takes between 1.5 and 7 hours on this computer, depending on how it’s behaving, and clicking Share On Facebook takes about ninety to 180 seconds instead, and BTW the PressIt bookmarklet won’t work with this Windows 98 setup so I can’t post it to WordPress instead, that’s why thanks for asking) when I ran across this.
From the comments on the YouTube it appears that the Collectors later lost their lead singer and morphed into Chilliwack, or maybe their singer left and he fronted Chilliwack or something; all I know is, going from Kits Beach to Chilliwack is what’s generally thought of as a comedown, at least to those who’ve been in both locations. I mean, Chilliwack is very nice for a small town with condo metastises on the fringes, but one of these things smells like cow shit and one of them smells like ckOne if you know what I mean, and I think you do.
In any event (the pole vault? beaver eating? three day?) there I was…well, HERE I was, right here behind the keyboard, and I was wearing my purple sweatshirt. The one Lydia gave me. The one with Lydia on it, only Lydia‘s not purple (neither in person nor on the sweatshirt except in the spots where the transfer didn’t cover) Lydia is generally rather pale pinkish except on the sweatshirt, where she is white and green (which she never is, even after a heavy-duty Bacchanal not that I’d know anything about that) and, yes, a bit of purple.
So (t)here I was wearing my purple Lydia sweatshirt, watching Lydia Purple. I wasn’t actually sweating, but it would have been nice for narrative symmetry purposes I suppose.
And here it is, a Wet Coast version of Eleanor Rigby:
Spot the Vancouver locations: Kits Beach, the West End, the Pacific Centre atrium (who knew it was that old?), Planetarium, English Bay, and is that not Spanish Banks?
Lyrics and additional details below the jump: Continue reading
raincoaster 