Total Eclipse of the Original

I don’t know what it is about this song, but it seems to inspire the greatest living sardonicists to greater achievements in sheer over-the-topitude than have ever been seen this side of Kadath Through The Looking-Glass.

First there was Kiki and Herb‘s heartrending story of transgendered love gone awry and tragic loss.

Now, there is dascottjr‘s Literal Version. Post-Post-Postmodern and deeply Eighties, it takes you behind the scenes, behind the hair gel and makeup, behind the blank expressions of the born-to-sing-not-act star and shows you the true meaning of this, perhaps the most iconic of all music videos.

Dancing Fonzie zombies FTW!

via azahar

Oh yes, there’s a Facebook page, of course.

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Christopher Hitchens: a new theory of redemption

Here's looking at you, Hitch

We at the ol’ raincoaster blog have long been fans (and, almost as long, confused and saddened ex-fans, like all those little kids when they found out the World Series was fixed) of the controversial, bilious, bibulous ex-Brit writer Christopher Hitchens, now enjoying a cushy, spa-ridden sinecure, the just reward of age, at Vanity “Fifteen Dollars a Word” Fair, having some time ago experienced a midlife crisis of Shakespearean proportions, from which he has yet to recover. In fact, the sole point on which I am absolutely sure we are still in agreement is that his brother is an ass.

Encouraging hints are emerging, leading those who’ve enjoyed his fine words even as we’ve missed his fine mind for, say, the last seven or eight years, to hope that the message might yet match the medium in terms of quality. And we are all about the terms of quality, yo. One of the earliest expressions of senility in retreat came in the form of this remarkable video and article:

Christopher Hitchens Gets Waterboarded

From http://www.vf.com. How does it feel to be “aggressively interrogated”? Christopher Hitchens found out for himself, submitting to a brutal waterboarding session in an effort to understand the human cost of America’s use of harsh tactics at Guantánamo and elsewhere. VF.com has the footage. Related: “Believe Me, It’s Torture,” from the August 2008 issue

Interview conducted by David Rose and filmed by Arya Surowidjojo.

Note the opening remarks: I don’t know what Hitchens did to piss Graydon Carter off, but Toby Young is lucky he got out of there when he did, from the looks of things.

So, why did getting waterboarded so suddenly turn Hitch‘s mind from self-centered, cranky mush, to something closer to a source of intellectual insight? It’s complicated, but I have an idea.

Actually, that generally goes without saying, doesn’t it? Both parts of that sentence.

So, the idea is this: as we all know, Hitchens is infamously immoderate of appetite(s). Since pre-puberty his brain has been stewed in a tepid chemical bath of scotch, tar, nicotine, preservatives, unmentionables, Red Dye #’s 1 through 642, and whatever it is that middle-class dealers cut their drugs with. Naturally, as time went on the effects got worse, culminating in the interminable Route 66 piece aforementioned, not to mention the neaderthal reactionarianism and spittle-flecked defensiveness that have marked/marred his work ever since.

Through the (admittedly rather drastic, but hey, we’ve got to be realists in this world today, amIrite?) use of the latest in waterboarding technology, thanks to one short session, the patient’s brain is already showing signs of improvement. We at the ol’ raincoaster blog believe this to be the result of nothing less than the cleansing flushing action of a pure water near-drowning, a remarkably successful (and inexpensive) way to restore the brain itself to youth and beauty.

Waterboarding. The Cranial Neti Pot of the Future.

Were we making the terrorists smarter and younger all this time? I see a future for battle-scarred veterans; no longer dependent on a sadly-depleted GI Bill or consigned to a gloomy and inadequate Veteran’s Hospital, nor shunted to the streets, they can now use the skills they developed across the oceans in the millions of American day spas. Spa visits will never be the same.

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Art Cop!

Everyone’s heard of the fashion police (they were even handing out tickets here in Vancouver a couple of years back, but they must have stopped since nobody’s tried to arrest me recently) but what about art cops? And I’m not talking about the Bureaucratocracy that runs the galleries; I’m talking about actual men and women of action, prowling around, making sure that art is paid the respect which is its due, whether that’s busting the kneecaps of some thug who tries to stash his gum underneath the Louise Nevelson or this:

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WaHo Ya Know

Ladies and gentlemen, presenting the gayest video of all time (including ElektronikSupersonik and all of the Village People):

WaHo (waffle house) by the Athens Boy Choir

Did you know that the Waffle House is a religion in parts of the US, and has its own Shrine? I did not. And did you know that there are significant numbers of songs called Waffle House? I did not. And it’s really late, I should have been done two hours ago and sleeping by now, and so I’m not going to root through the whole intertubes for the lyrics to this one. I’m sure you’ll be singing along in a couple of replays anyway.

And then you’ll turn gay!

on the difference between flying lizards, purse rats, and the higher life forms

Here you go, bird enthusiasts: absolute proof of the difference between highly evolved, sophisticated life forms and your inferior little pets. Check out that music selection!

Backstreet Boid from Cute Overload

And here’s more or less the same thing, with a Purse Rat.