Stolen from BoingBoing. This guy makes P-Unit look like G-Unit. How to destroy leftover fruitcake? Humiliate it in a rap battle, of course! But this site lists several ways to kill off the least-loved holiday gift, including exorcism, committee, slingshot, and pinata.
transcript over the jump Continue reading
The inimitable Pierre Elliott Trudeau once said that the government has no place in the bedrooms of the nation. The prefab Tony Blair, however, thinks that where the government really belongs is up the rectums of cattle, and who among us would disagree?
Farmers will be told today they could be penalised if they do not stop their flatulent animals farting so much methane gas. The environment secretary, David Miliband, will tell a farming conference in Oxford that agriculture now contributes 7% of all UK greenhouse gas emissions and more than a third of all emissions of methane -one of the most dangerous greenhouse gases…
Tomorrow, I imagine cows all over Great Britain will be getting a stern talking to. Let’s hope they start with Margaret Thatcher.
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What is it about French female singers? Last time I got this verbose over a music video was Vanessa Paradis’ Coup Coup, which was indeed a sweet little video, even if her voice was never going to set the world on fire. This time it’s Mylene Farmer, an unspeakably beautiful and delicate (and, apparently, immortal) redhead with a voice that would charm, if not the birds out of the trees, at least all the slackers off the sofa and to the window, and whom I first ran across on MuchMusic, our godforsaken Canuckistani music channel, and then a couple of years later at my friend Alain‘s place. He wanted to show me this amazing CD he’d gotten, all in French, from a friend of his who was a flight attendant. He was rather shocked I knew the songs, but who could forget Comme J’ai Mal? Both the song and the video, with Mylene transforming into an exquisite butterfly/moth hybrid are absolutely unforgettable, and it doesn’t hurt that she followed that up with California, one of the best, and most brutal, synopses of the SoCal experience in music. It kicks Hotel California into the dust, particularly if you know what the words actually mean, which is always optional in Hollywood.
And she’s a Canuck, too. We all look like that, honest.
But this is her comeback song, from 2005, and it’s called Fuck Them All. She hasn’t aged a minute, although something about her face screams really expensive work done, the voice is as amazing as ever, and so is the sense of theatre. Enjoy this Goth romance/feminist emancipation/war protest song. It just may be the most beautiful protest song ever filmed. Translation coming TK; I don’t trust my own French. Volunteers?
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French lyrics and English translation over the jump, courtesy Mylene Farmer International Forum, which also has some interesting interpretations of the song. Follow the link for those.
Seriously, if this is how they choose to do it with one another, is it any wonder that gods generally prefer to do it to humans? At least they can’t fight back!
Forget Zeus and all that bestiality schtick, and never mind that eggnog is the ectoplasmic emanation that really got the Virgin Mary pregnant. This is what happens when they go at it one-on-one, hidden by the numinous dark in the depths of the sea. Cthulhu ain’t no Valentino, that’s for sure.
“The male giant squid has to use a puny 15-gram brain to coordinate 150 kilograms of weight, 10 metres of length and a 1.5-metre-long penis,” he says. “He physically plunges this penis into the female’s arms, which are rather unfortunately right next to her beak. Because he is coordinating so much with so little, I think occasionally bits get chewed off when they inadvertently get too close to the beak.”
Oh, but you know he likes it rough! Still, an excellent lesson in how NOT to ask for oral sex. Guys, are you taking notes? I really don’t want to have to go through this again. Which reminds me, what is Bill Clinton doing these days?
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Inspired by the interesting contrast of Jesus Jones‘ and Van Halen‘s songs both called Right Now, I’m posting these: two songs, both called Hold On, both optimistic and arguably existential in different ways, and both outstanding examples of their genre.
In this corner, Wilson Phillips, girl band extraordinaire:
I know this pain
Why do lock yourself up in these chains?
No one can change your life except for you
Dont ever let anyone step all over you
Just open your heart and your mind
Is it really fair to feel this way inside?
Chorus:
Some day somebody’s gonna make you want to
Turn around and say goodbye
Until then baby are you going to let them
Hold you down and make you cry
Dont you know?
Dont you know things can change
Things’ll go your way
If you hold on for one more day
Can you hold on for one more day
Things’ll go your way
Hold on for one more day
You could sustain
Or are you comfortable with the pain?
You’ve got no one to blame for your unhappiness
You got yourself into your own mess
Lettin’ your worries pass you by
Don’t you think its worth your time
To change your mind?
(chorus)
I know that there is pain
But you hold on for one more day and
Break free the chains
Yeah I know that there is pain
But you hold on for one more day and you
Break free, break from the chains
Some day somebodys gonna make you want to
Turn around and say goodbye
Until then baby are you going to let them
Hold you down and make you cry
Don’t you know?
Don’t you know things can change
Things’ll go your way
If you hold on for one more day yeah
If you hold on
Don’t you know things can change
Things’ll go your way
If you hold on for one more day,
If you hold on
Can you hold on
Hold on baby
Wont you tell me now
Hold on for one more day cause
It’s gonna go your way
Don’t you know things can change
Things’ll go your way
If you hold on for one more day
Can’t you change it this time
Make up your mind
Hold on
Hold on
Baby hold on
And in this corner, Tom Waits, the bard of the Black Rider himself:
They hung a sign up in out town
if you live it up, you won’t live it down
So, she left monte rio, son
Just like a bullet leaves a gun
With charcoal eyes and monroe hips
She went and took that california trip
Well, the moon was gold, her
Hair like wind
She said dont look back just
Come on jim
(chorus)
Oh you got to
Hold on, hold on
You got to hold on
Take my hand, I’m standing right here
You gotta hold on
Well, he gave her a dimestore watch
And a ring made from a spoon
Everyone is looking for someone to blame
But you share my bed, you share my name
Well, go ahead and call the cops
You dont meet nice girls in coffee shops
She said baby, I still love you
Sometimes theres nothin left to do
Oh you got to
Hold on, hold on
You got to hold on
Take my hand, I’m standing right here,
you got to just hold on.
Well, God bless your crooked little heart st. louis got the best of me
I miss your broken-china voice
How I wish you were still here with me
Well, you build it up, you wreck it down
You burn your mansion to the ground
When theres nothing left to keep you here, when
Youre falling behind in this
Big blue world
Oh you go to
Hold on, hold on
You got to hold on
Take my hand, I’m standing right here
You got to hold on
Down by the riverside motel,
Its 10 below and falling
By a 99 cent store she closed her eyes
And started swaying
But its so hard to dance that way
When its cold and theres no music
Well your old hometown is so far away
But, inside your head theres a record
Thats playing, a song called
Hold on, hold on
You really got to hold on
Take my hand, I’m standing right here
And just hold on.
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raincoaster 