Category Archives: Fans

Operation Global Media Domination: Stat Counter Breakdown

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Screaming Babyhead Scientist

 

TIAAccording to the stat counter, I had 90 hits from Section A and 100 hits from section B last year. It’s too bad I have no idea what Section A and Section B are, although I do know what Section 3 is, and it’s also too bad that this blog wasn’t actually in existence last year, but I’m counting the hits anyway. For 2004, hits are A 60/B 80; for 2003, it’s 15/25. So I’m just gonna add them and say that today I got 370.

Makes total sense, right?

I think the Claymates must be behind it. Thanks, you crazy bitches!

and the award for best Oscar coverage goes to:

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Defamer

Defamer Oscars

Snippets from the comments:

Lauren Bacall is going in my dead pool tomorrow.by windowseat on 03/05/06 06:13 PM 

I’m sorry. I was hitting the bong for a moment. Did that chick just hit on Clooney during her acceptance speech? by HollywoodSexandCandy on 03/05/06 06:21 PM

I just Adore that Oscar-Speech-Background-Music! It makes Everyone’s Speech sound so Over The Top and Dramatic, even when they are just thanking their “Producing Partners!” I need to get that orchestra to play behind me the next time My Mom Calls And Asks Me To Explain Why I Am 36 And Still Single. Or I Break Up With A Boyfriend/ “Producing Partner.” by TheDailyRandi on 03/05/06 06:27 PM

And I remind you that the very best thing about drinking extremely expensive booze and then posting is the glorious perfection of the nonsequitage. Behold:

I’ll never forgive Lily Tomlin for nixing Devo‘s appearance on her 80s variety show because she was so offended by the “Whip It” video.by King of All Hacks on 03/05/06 07:08 PM

Thank you for sharing.

And now, the penultimate Oscar coverage, the one you’ve all been waiting for (because you’re too lazy to click on the link, aren’t you, bitches? I know my people):
 

8:23pm: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
God help us all. The sky has opened, Beezlebub has dumped his infernal payload of obvious evil on an unsuspecting Earth. Life as we know it is over. Drive to the desert and start a new civilization, hoping that our horrible, horrible mistakes will not be repeated. This is the end, friends. See you in Hell.

Matt Dillon, the bloggers are not your friends. Crash

short-selling Atwood

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Atwood SignatureUndercutting the market for signed books by Canada’s Greatest Novelist? Machine-reproducing that irreplacable signature? Facilitating the production of hundreds of signed copies, worldwide, on a daily basis? That would completely debase the market value of the signed copies, as well as cheapening the emotional connection the “Dear Reader” feels towards the book and the author who, for at least a moment, handled it.

Who would do such a thing?

Margaret Atwood.

“It’ll be like being the first man on the moon!” somebody said, trying to reassure Aki Beam, a New York librarian nervously waiting first in line to have her copy of Atwood’s new book signed by the LongPen‘s robotic arm.

“Apollo 13 is the parallel springing more readily to mind,” murmured the bookstore’s stressed-out owner, as a technical expert fiddled frantically with the machinery.

I have a book that Viggo Mortensen signed for me, and frankly it means a great deal more that he, himself, hauled his decorative lefty ass to Beyond Baroque that night and stood up on stage and read his poetry and then sat down on the filthy floor next to my pal Trixxi because he was too late to get a chair (they tangled legs, hers and his being too long to put anywhere else) and then went and sat for hours at the table with the other people: Georgeanne Dean, Patricia Smith, Regie Gibson, Luis Rodriquez, and Marvin Bell although not Saul Williams, because apparently the Saul does not sit at tables with other authors and sign things; all of whom signed things very nicely, particularly Regie Gibson, with whom I shoulda followed up, athough I’m a great one for slapping my head six months later and saying, “Idiot! He was hot!” and I even hung onto the paper bag Ian Tracey gave me his phone number on for two years, although I was, as mentioned, too much of an idiot to do anything about it until six months after I’d finally gotten rid of the bag…but I’m over that now; and then Viggo actually held and signed my book, and didn’t even spill any of the whisky on it, and that means much more than something done by some mechanical pen With Free Bonus Gee Whiz Factor that, frankly, non-geeks couldn’t care less about.

Besides, he got Sharpie all over his fingers and I now have a nearly complete set of fingerprints with which to frame him someday. Put your suggestions in the Comments, please.

But that’s neither here nor there.

Nor was Atwood.Margaret Atwood

She was in London; 40 people were in New York for the booksigning. Now, I dunno about you, but I figure 40 is a pretty good number for a piece of machinery to pull; it’s a crappy number for Margaret Atwood, though. The market moves fast, I’ll tell you that.

And another thing.

“You’re talking to the person who was heading for Los Angeles when they had that earthquake, was heading for New York on the morning of 9/11, and set out to do a book tour in Japan when the Sars episode hit,” Ms Atwood said. “I’m the person whose limousine broke down on the New York freeway, green stuff and smoke came out of it, and I hitched. I was actually rescued by the marines.”

I’m wondering if Margaret Atwood would mind posting her travel plans in advance, for the benefit of the whole world…next time I’m planning to go somewhere, I’ll make sure she’s not headed there. Better safe than entombed in fiery grave with, I remind you, Canada’s Greatest Novelist.

You just know that, in a thousand years when we got dug up by future archaeologists, the caption would read, “Margaret Atwood, Canada’s Greatest Novelist, and unnamed fan.”

Unnamed fan

Questionnaires of Pensacola

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He’s back!

Rance 

Questions heartlessly stolen from Rance which you can find over there on the right in the Blogroll. You could read the story to get the context for these questions, but since I didn’t even do that in school I see no reason to start at my advanced age. To get the context for Rance, well, that’s a whole other kettle of kippers.

1) Is the glass half empty, or half full?

The glass is imaginary, therefore this question, like all life, is meaningless. Cheers!

2) (Other than Bolidar), does true evil exist? Explain.

But is Bolidar true or false? Evil can never be true, only false; we know this a priori; if Bolidar is evil, then Bolidar is false. It’s true. But then, this is a work of fiction, which is false. This, also, is true. Discuss. Isn’t this the question they asked Norman the android on that old episode of Star Trek?

3) Isaac and Morgan are convicted of numerous crimes, including “swimming to far from shore.” Have you ever been convicted of a crime? Should you have been?

But where is “far from shore” and why isn’t it capitalized? It’s close enough to swim to, though, so it must be around here somewhere. I can’t swim very far, so I’m gonna assume it’s within my striking distance, as most fictional authors want their readers to identify somewhat with the characters; therefore, “far from shore” must be Granville Island, which is about how far I can swim if I start from the north side of False Creek. But swimming isn’t a crime in Vancouver, although False Creek itself is a crime against Nature, but a very pretty one at that. Have I ever been convicted of a crime? Nobody, ever, in the history of the world, has even accused me of having convictions! Faugh! I laugh in your face…wherever it is. Consider it laughed in. Heartily.

Hey, when did Dave Eggers take over my brain?

4) What’s the strangest thing you’ve ever heard a bird say?

“The mynahs are on sale.” No, really, it was some gawdy, pimped-out macaw in a Surrey mall. Can you imagine ratting out the fellow avians to turn a quick buck? In his last incarnation this fine feathered Fagin was, no doubt, a Somali slave dealer. And in his next? Stage parent. 

5) Haiki sounds like it should be the plural form of haiku. Write a PoP related haiku.

The cashier had bad
hayfever, no sense of smell
But could see garlic.

I was in retail far too long. PoP=Point of Purchase=till. The haiku is also, however, Pirates of Pensacola-related in that I wouldn’t have written about a stuffed-up till monkey if not for the questionnaire, so there ya go. I shoulda bin a lawer. Note, please, subtle classical Japanese reference to the season, cloaked within an evocative noun. I be subtizzle, yo.

6) A character is described as “Not the brightest bulb anywhere there are bulbs.” What’s you favorite euphemism for “stupid”?

I rarely euphemize. I prefer to euthanize, ie make my first blow a stunning one, so that the victim does not feel pain, is not even aware of the attack, until much later, preferably in a subsequent lifetime when the victim is a life form which is much smaller and, therefore, unable to kick my ass. If pressed, I’d have to say “Knucklewalking” though. If you press me again, however, I’ll bop you one.

7) As a child, were you good at hide & seek? What was your favorite hiding place?

Bali. In fact, it’s my favorite hiding place now. Some day I may even get there. If pressed (there it is again!) I do take refuge in the realm of the imagination, where nobody expects to find me.

God, when did PeterPan take over my brain?

8) What was the most misguided act of chivalry you’ve seen? Is chivalry dead? Should it be?

I have an alibi and no further comment at this time.

9) Where was the elusive hiding place of the key to the Sea Patrol boat?

The key to the Sea Patrol boat is that it works even if you just use oars. That’s the real key.

10) Do you have any tattoos? Details, please.

Details? You are gay!

For the Defence

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The fact that I am on his side in a battle to the apparent death with a group of crazed fandom should give John Paulus pause.

It should, actually, give him the willies, but he doesn’t know the history there.

So, who is John Paulus? He’s some American guy. I don’t know what he used to do for a living, but I know he has a porn deal now. I know he’s a very steadfast character, and he’s not greedy. I know if I were in a dark alley facing an unknown number of foes, I’d like to have a John Paulus or two on my side. How do I know anything about John Paulus?

Clay Aiken‘s fans went apeshit on him.

Apeshit fans, flamewars, fame, tabloids, lawyers, secret passions: this has “raincoaster” written all over it.

So the back story, as far as I can make out, which is hardly, since the only time I ever watched American Idol was the other night, over the calamari and Mango Madness before Narnia, so I missed Clay Aiken entirely except that I know he didn’t even win and he’s the only famous loser of American Idol, and he has a record coming out this year which has been jeopardized by the whole scandale, is this:

Apparently, John Paulus and Clay Aiken got together and had sex.

That’s it, pretty much. John told, as people who have sex are wont to do, particularly when they have sex with famous people whose record companies would very much like to hint that they are not having sex with people called John, but instead “he just hasn’t found the right girl yet.” John didn’t take any money for telling the story, and he hasn’t changed any of the details of the story since it broke. And he isn’t backing down, despite some rather…pointed…remarks from certain fans known as Claymates (this is ironic, isn’t it? They must not be as literal-minded as I am). Not all the Claymates are wingnuts, but there are enough that I can hear the flapping noises from Canada!

Clay Aiken never actually said he was straight. He’s never said he was gay either, and he hasn’t actually gone and said “John Paulus is wrong,” either, which is interesting. He has posted on his blog (for access to which he charges money) about something that he says is “real,” leading everyone to conclude there are things going around about him which are not real, which, as anyone who knows anything about fandom and fame knows, is by definition true. The lies could be that he’s gay; they could be that he’s straight; they could be that his favorite colour is…whatever. He’s famous, and therefore there are a lot of lies going around about him, true ’nuff. Hell, Viggo Mortensen has been known to complain about lies going around about him that originated with…himself! (Happy Halloween, Viggo!)

Right now the defenders of Clay’s honour are spreading the rumour that it wasn’t Clay on the webcam at all, but some trannie named Coti (again, that’s as I understand it; don’t actually have time to read all 937 comments) and also that John couldn’t have been with Clay because John is straight, to which John says:

if I had a girlfriend please ask her to provide a picture of the two of us together. I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting. If you know something to the contrary I am sure that the National Enquirer would be more than happy to hear your story. I would encourage you to do it. Remember they require you take a lie detector test. Here’s the contact: Abutterfield@nationalenquirer.com.

I’m that confident in myself.

[see why I like this guy?]

You know what’s really entertaining is that Clay knows that he and I were together; he knows that’s him in the webcam as well, but that his fans are saying that he looks like some drag queen named Coti. Clay don’t take it to heart and don’t feel insulted that your fans think you are a female impersonator.

Check out some of the fan posts:

This one is pretty grounded:

I hope that there are more fans like me out there, fans who love the voice, don’t give a crap whether he’s gay or straight, and only worry about this story because his high-risk behavior sounds dangerous. Obviously Clay doesn’t think there are many reasonable fans, but I still think they exist. The bottom line is that Clay can sing and can entertain and it would be a shame if his career were cut short because of this. That said, none of us has any right to demand that he say something or say nothing or that he prove anything other than the fact that he is singing. Insanity

And then there is:

matthew shepard was a killed
very sadly many americans felt he deserved it
umbelievalbe and shameful
does clay really deserve all this

Posted by: totallydifferentanswerthanyesterday whom I am wondering if s/he is asking for Clay to be “a killed” too? And shouldn’t that be “a kilt”? Jez askin’.

Also:

give ME a bed, a toilet and Clay Aiken (with room service for food occassionally) – and I’m pretty much set for life. I don’t want or need anything else. CLAY – call me – you got my number Posted by: ForClayOnly, pretty standard stuff except the part later about getting a dick if that’s what Clay wanted…ew. And…You will NEVER poison OUR minds against Clay, because we LOVE him with a passion you can not hardly begin to comprehend. You would have to have a HEART first…Clay’s blog was NOT patronizing. He likes to give us fun little tests. He is a teacher, remember? It’s fun for him to see who among us can figure it out – and it’s fun for us to try.

Once the meds kick in. Remember, you can’t channel the light until you take the helmet off.

And some posts from John Paulus:

Everything I stated about Clay was fact and truth. The story been floated here about me and some drag queen that I have never met are a fabrication. Claymates you’ve shot yourselves in the foot over the last two months and I have a very funny feeling your[sic] about to shoot yourselves in the head.

You can call me a whore, slut, liar, and accuse me of being a pathetic person. You have a right to your opinion. But, when Claymates make accusations that claim I am involved with drugs- well that crosses the line. Nothing I have stated about Clay was fabricated or concocted. I shared an experience. Also you wrote “John took it way too far in outing Clay in order to start a porn career.” I DID NOT OUT Clay in order to start a porn career. That is a very very false statement. I did a porno only after I lost my job in Real Estate and I have had offers to do porn since 1995.

What’s particularly interesting about this flamewar (besides the fact it is routinely responsible for 10 or so hits on my blog, but that’s only of interest to me) is the vehemence with which significant numbers of the Claymates defend their particular, and rather limited, vision of Clay. Essentially, if he is not exactly as they conceive him to be, he might as well not exist and could, in my estimation, be in some degree of actual danger. I think, under those circumstances, we can all understand anyone’s reluctance to open up the closet door and yell “Surprise!”