Category Archives: meme

lolgoth#2: Trent Reznor

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You knew it wouldn’t be long until Trent made an appearance. Here now is our very first NIN-lolgoth:

Trent Eated his thum

source

To make your own lolgoth, follow the instructions here, subbing in Marilyn Manson and Trent Reznor and Kimveer Gill and, in a pinch, Fiona Apple or Asslee Simpson in her heavy eyeliner phase for the various Himalayans and domestic shorthairs, and don’t forget to tag it “lolgoth“. Tagging it “sad” or “emo” or “tasteless” is optional. Then either drop a link in the comments section or email raincoaster at gmail dot com; if you want the linkie luv, tell us what URL to link to.

This should be totally popular with the Deadjournal crowd, not to mention VampireFreaks and at least one federal agency!

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lolgoths #1! Kimveer Gill

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Presenting the first in what we at the ol’ raincoaster blog hope will be a long-running and completely tasteless feature. Think of it as Great Cthulhu‘s answer to lolgays, lolgeeks and lolcats.

lolgoths

Because I just haven’t busted out my inner egregiously offensive child lately, and she’s almost chewed through the steel door…

icanhasinfami?

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the DIRTY Secret

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New Age Without Shame podcastHere’s the real secret, folks:

Sometimes New Agers can be real assholes, and the worst thing is, they float through life, wittering happily about scheduling their acupuncture according to the phases of the Jupiter’s moons, oblivious to the damage they cause, high on vast, expensive pharmacopaeas of anti-depressants and “herbs” and the fumes of rare jasmine and patchouli. And if you address their asshollery, they tell you you’re “attracting negativity by being negative” but it never once occurs to them that they, themselves, could be that negativity. I’m recycling this from the comments over at Aaron Swartz’s blog, because it deserves a wider audience, I think.

I had cancer once, a long time ago, and a friend of mine who’d come over for a “cheer me up” visit looked me in the eyes and asked, “What have you done to bring this into your life?”

I paused a moment and said, “Do you mean what have I done to bring into my life people who could ask such a question of a cancer patient?”

Yeah, I don’t see her so much anymore.

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Operation Global Media Domination: the confessional

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TIAJesus, I hope I spelled that right. I am only genetically Catholic, after all. No doubt The Sister, who rode our Catholicest of the Catholic family name all the way to a very senior job in the Catholic school system (which, of course, neither of us attended although we did go to Baptist day camp), will correct me.

After she asks her secretary how to spell it.

In any case, I have a confession to make. I have taken you for granted. And judging by the hits yesterday, you didn’t seem to mind.

I think acetominophen is antithecal to blogging, or at least on two extra strength tylenol I wasn’t feeling very fresh, so I just didn’t post. Now, this may seem odd, given that what I usually post is just the online equivalent of shoving the newspaper under some handy person’s nose and saying, “check this out!” but nonetheless, one must be in the mood, in the zone, or in the groove, to blog effectively.

I took one look at the stats and said to myself the Britney pervs will keep this thing afloat overnight if I flake out, and so they did, all 1200 of them looking for the elusive porn tape. Guess what, guys? It’s not her. Now you can get on with the rest of your so-called lives.

You’re welcome.

So, I jammed the Axe Gang dance moves up there and went to bed, sulking and wisfully thumbing through all the workouts in Self and Shape that I cannot, in this shape, actually do. Gawd knows what I did to my left ankle right now, but it’s quite clear that I am being singled out for punishment in this life, as we finally have perfectly clear, crisp days that are perfect for rollerblading, and the T-factor has not yet become suffocating, although I did scare a bunch of oblivious Iranians and one tiny Hong Kong realtor wheeling and dealing on a cellphone when I zoomed between them. They’re just lucky I swerved rather than treating them like vertical speed bumps. I did pat the realtor on her shoulder, and she looked quite surprised. Perhaps she thought I was after her jacket?

In unrelated news, I spent the day cooped up and the energy had to go somewhere, somewhere that didn’t involve the feet, so I washed all the mold and lichens off the wall of my patio, revealing the pink stucco that lurks beneath. I also cleaned up most of the crap on the patio and looked wisfully at the iron potbellied stove that Carinthia gave me, but dismissed the idea of starting a fire, for fear my neighbors would smell smoke and become alarmed.

Then my upstairs neighbor threw his trash over the balcony and onto my patio.

The fire is lovely. 

life lessons from the undead

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brainsssss...brainsssss....Stephen Hawking.... 

Because hey, Britney Spears is alive and you think she can give you better advice than a gore-clotted zombie revenant, crazed with bloodlust and hungry for brains?

At least zombies like brains.

The ever-servicey Guardian has a lovely article on life lessons we can learn from zombies. (I must include a small ed. note here, to the effect that we at the ol’ raincoaster blog have, it must be admitted, even when we don’t want to, that we deleted the Zombie Blog off the blogroll, although it should be noted that this was after a long time, and with great reluctance, and we only did it because that blog was not so much undead as actually, factually, and for all intents and purposes really…well, is it indelicate to put it this way? Dead)

Man-made viruses are bad things … 

We, as humans, are fragile things

… When the character of Rhodes is spectacularly dissected by zombie hordes in Day Of The Dead, and screams “CHOKE ON ‘EM!” as they tuck into his guts, he is, in a very real sense, acknowledging his own dehumanised position in consumer culture. Yes he is.

The US military ruin it for everyone

…In Day Of The Dead, they are all racist, sexist and insane, with disastrous results. Quite where the inspiration comes from for this bumbling, disaster-prone, incompetent redneck vision of America‘s military might, is a matter for considerable debate.

Your family messes you up

No genre has reflected the increasingly obsolescence of the nuclear family unit more gleefully than the zombie movie, which posits that family life will not just mess you up, it will also attempt to eat your spleen too…

Always stay close to a helicopter pilot

No matter what goes down in any given zombie movie, you can be sure of one thing – if you haven’t got a helicopter pilot with you, then you are fubar…in the Zack Snyder remake of Dawn Of The Dead, there is no helicopter pilot anywhere to be found, and where do they all end up? Dead, that’s where. So if you are ever introduced to a helicopter pilot, be nice to them

Women are better in a crisis than men are

This may not be news to our female readers (on your side, sisters!) but zombie flicks are either keenly aware of women’s inherent stoicism, or the blokes who make zombie flicks are just trying to suck up…

Animals can be zombies too

Hmmm. Not quite sure how this one can be applied in modern society, but there are zombie monkeys in the 28 series, zombie alligators in Day Of The Dead, zombie dogs in Resident Evil, zombie spiders in Lucio Fulci’s The Beyond, and in Zombie Creeping Flesh there is actually a zombie kitten. Yes, you read that correctly. So I guess what this teaches us is maybe that keeping pets is cruel. Or something.

In summary, then: stay away from pets and family members, retain a keen awareness of your own mortality and the power of science, and hang out with female non-US military-affiliated helicopter pilots. Valuable lessons, there, for all of us.

Couldn’t have put it better myself. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to drop a friendly note to my old buddy Flygrrl…

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