Quote o’ the Day: Toby Young on Fame

Toby Young, once again the least attractive in a group photo

It’s rare indeed to find someone whose fascination with the phenomenon of fame exceeds my own storied obsession, but I have indeed located one such sick and deluded soul, and his name is Toby Young. And here is the smartest thing he has to say on the subject, shamelessly stolen from his book The Sound of No Hands Clapping(oh, but before we get to that: when his book launch was broken up by a lubricated brawl of some degree of violence and spectacularity his pregnant wife tried to break up the fight, but he stopped her, saying, “Are you crazy? This is fabulous publicity!”):

There are so many different varieties of fame these days we need to develop a whole new vocabulary to describe them. At the moment, the best we can do is to rank celebrities according to whether they’re A-list, B-list, etc. But even if we use every letter of the alphabet that still only gives us 26 different types. That’s surely not enough. Eskimos have 47 different words for snow. Shouldn’t we have 47 words for celebrity?

Selah.

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Waiting for Charlie Rose, by Samuel Beckett

I had no idea the man was so profound. But I think we all knew he was so absurd.

via Valleywag

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a medical emergency

You can’t blame her, really.

Medicinal Marijuana for emergencies only

Well, have you?

Shebeen Club: Gonzo Vancouver

The Shebeen Club: Gonzo Vancouver!

When: 7-9pm, Tuesday, April 15th, 2008

Where: the Shebeen, 7 Gaoler’s Mews, behind the Irish Heather, 217 Carrall Street, Vancouver BC

How Much: $15 includes dinner: limited to 40

What: mingling, door prizes, eating, drinking, fornicating!

Who: Heather Watson (Civixen), Gonzo Journalist and founding columnist at Terminal City

“We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half full of cocaine, and a whole galaxy of multi-coloured uppers, downers, screamers, laughers and also a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of Budweiser, a pint of raw ether and two dozen amyls.”
Hunter S. Thompson

Well, we probably won’t have that, but we will have a great introduction to indigenous Vancouver Gonzo journalism with the hyperkinetic and internationally infamous Heather Watson, alias Civixen (http://www.civixen.com/ and http://cvxn.tumblr.com). Coming at you straight down the Mojo Wire at 95 miles per hour, it’ll be an evening of raw, uncut literary power. Bare-knuckling her way up the ladder from the wide open frontier of the Wild West to the mean streets of Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside, Heather has seen it all, done most of it, and has a damn hell solid alibi for everything else.

Bio: Heather Watson created the satirical op/ed column “Civixen,” which became a source of enjoyment and irritation for political bright lights and dim bulbs alike (including the current mayor) in the four years it ran in two local alternative newspapers. Besides a brief tenure as editor-in-chief of the 30,000-circulation Gonzo-inspired Terminal City (now sadly defunct), Heather Watson also presented a popular seminar on Gonzo Journalism at the request of the Western arm of the Canadian University Press in 2006. She is a published poet, a produced playwright and her essay “Vancouver Today” is featured in the Time Out Guide to Vancouver. In addition to a few years at Vancouver’s éminence grise of independent bookstores, Duthie Books, some of her more surreal side jobs have included voice-over and motion capture for a video game and six years spent hand modeling toys from Star Wars figures to Barbies in dozens of TV commercials.

Meet and Mingle 7-7:30
Listen and Learn 7:30-8
Drown Sorrows and Vow to Buck the System 8-9 or, really, the rest of your life.

The Mark Lisanti Memorial Unicorn Post

sad unicorn

Sad unicorn has a sad

 

Dignified Mark Lisanti Memorial Unicorn

 

Dignified Unicorn is Dignified, Inconsolable

 

Deadly Mark Lisanti Memorial Unicorn

 

Deadly Unicorn is working through the stages of grief

Unicorn Skeleton

Ded Alicorn pulls a Jeremy Blake

 

Want to know what this is about? Click here. Or here. Or here for background.

Never let it be said that I failed to give myself the linkie luv.

 

Moar postes cummin as soon as A) the computer stops crashing, B) I get the Ayyy post done, and C) WordPress stops stripping out my P tags, dammit.

Do I have to take this to Valleywag again, people?