We sing the body brand new.

New name, new layout.

A Picture Says a Few Words, I Suppose.

“I’m very depressed that Fruit of the Loom has pulled the Charlie Sheen ads"

“I’m very depressed that Fruit of the Loom has

pulled the Charlie Sheen ads”

carlos irwin estévez

was in

red dawn

platoon

wall street

men at work (written, directed by, and starring his hermano, emilio estévez)

hot shots one and deux

major league one and two

the chase

the arrival

money talks

he’s the star of two and a half men


playing the fictional champion of an ideal

espoused by womanizers the world over

drinking

lazing

fucking

forgetting

and now


his greatest role


teaming up with mj (the living one)

in fotl ads

will never be seen by human eyes

again


because the measure of american self righteousness can not be quantified ($$)

i just hope you motherfuckers are happy.

(2010)

Book Review: "God Hates Us All"

When I first put this book down, I thought of how I'd approach it as a text. It's quite clear, by sheer fact of its existence, that it was intended to be seen as a piece of a whole. That is to say, that it was never meant to stand alone as a piece of literature. It was published in all its metafictive glory to be a "media-tie-in." Where most books might be labeled fiction, non-fiction, or memoir, that is exactly what this is stamped: Media-tie-in.

This makes it near impossible to review this work without referring to or at least mentioning the fact that it figures quite prominently in the first season of Showtime's "Californication." When you get to the title page, you will notice that there is, under Hank Moody's name, another. One Mr. Jonathan Grotenstein. I assume Mr. Grotenstein is the genius behind this particular piece of fiction, and while I do not mean that in a derisive or dismissive way, I'm not sure if I'd want my name attached to it if it was my work.

I think that part of asking your audience to "suspend its disbelief" is asking them to understand/accept that within the context of the show, this is a piece of literature. A piece of literature that made a man a hit in the literary world. So when I picked it up and saw that, I thought, "why didn't this guy ghost?" Maybe there is a specific reason, and if there is, I won't argue any further. But that is my impression.

The synopsis on the back sleeve of the book calls it a "wry literary masterpiece," which I find funny because if you flip through it randomly it seems more like something you'd find browsing in a YA fiction section. Less than 200 pages, large text (as opposed to the scene in which Hank goes into the book store and skims through it, seemingly reveling in his own youthful genius; it is larger and the text is smaller) and an ad for the 3rd season on the final page.

Of course, I was still able to suspend that disbelief I wrote of a couple of paragraphs earlier. I wanted to. I'd been waiting to read the thing since I knew it really existed.

So, is it a "wry literary masterpiece?" No. Not by any stretch. Is it good? Yes. Readable? Infinitely. In fact, it's a quick read. Hank Moody is definitely not a postmodern trickster. He uses conventional linear narration and doesn't bog the story down with big ideas (not a bad thing either way). I could definitely see how it could be turned into the sappy chick flick "A Crazy Little Thing Called Love," and I hope they never get the idea to actually film it.

Our protagonist is a college drop-out in his late teens. He meets a slightly older girl who shows him what happens when you start fucking the first crazy bitch who comes round. But he's not the first man who's had one of those relationships that is solely based on wild sex and recreational drug usage. Far from it. This is a page out of Bukowski. Except, he doesn't turn down her advances because he's too drunk to get a hard on. No. She's fucked it raw. And when he "rejects" her is the downward spiral that sends his young life into upheaval.

There are smatterings of great dialogue and insights here and there throughout the novel, but a lot of it is pedestrian. You do find out why the novel is titled as it is, but even then, the creative way of putting it forth doesn't alleviate that "so what?" feeling. But maybe that's the point. Moody's protagonist doesn't know what he wants. He hasn't any aspirations unless you call landing a model girlfriend an aspiration. It's certainly not one to define one's life with.

The one thing that's certain is that the Moody on Californication only comes out subtly. Mainly in mannerism and witty dialogue. This is supposed to be the manifestation of a younger Moody's creation, and it can certainly be passed off as such. The one thing that never changes is hope. Moody's protagonist has hope despite his failings with women, and Moody himself, on the show, retains that childlike quality all while floating his liver and courting STDs, pissing women off in the process.

"I love women, I have all their albums."--  Hank Moody

I would recommend this book mainly to fans of the show. And really, only to the fans who like to read. It's a nice little companion piece that might offer a sliver of insight into the character that Duchovny portrays on the show. But within a real-world context, I don't see it as being a best-seller, nor do I see it having a huge following outside of the cult aspect. I see it as being a start. A work by a writer who might one day churn out his opus.

2010.
 
Photo at right taken from here: http://allnumerablemosts.tumblr.com/
 
Photographer/copyright holder: unknown. Will remove upon request.

Excess & Blasphemy: The Advent of Sex

http://excessblasphemy.wordpress.com/

Cheap Tricks Redux

When my friend and Damned by Faint Praise contributor, and great artist in his own right, Robby Mexico heard about the Art Auction, he was inspired to draw this flyer. It's really cool, and it's appreciated.

Thanks Robby.

Text:

You. Come hither.

Me?

Yes, you. -- Listen closely. Art auction on January 16th. It's a Saturday. Mark your calendar. Free Food. Free Drinks. DJ sets and such. Be there... or be square.

Saturday, January 16th.

Oh no!

That poor, square bastard.

Sat/16th/Jan/2010: Cheap Tricks Art Auction

Good News!

On January 16th, The Peanut Gallery will be taking its show on the road-- as it always does-- to Oak Cliff for the Cheap Tricks Art Auction. This special event benefits the artists (all money made in auction will go directly to the artist), which is always good. Raymond Butler (Damned by Faint Praise's first "featured artist"), Felicia Garcia, and Jessica Terry (Damned by Faint Praise contributor) are behind this thing, and Adam Strange and myself are grateful to them for allowing us to be a part. The flyer says it all! Er... well... most of it, anyway.

We will be doing some select readings and getting to hang with some cool up-and-coming local artists.

More info here:

The Peanut Gallery

&

Here.

Right here.

On this blog.

So if you're in D-town and looking for a little culture: check it out!

A Decade of Shit: Worsts

Hi, Stu here.

Look, I would say that no one likes to be the one person in the room who gleefully sprays diarrhea all over everyone's parade of lists, but if I did say that, I'd be lying. I love it. If anyone believed that I would pass this opportunity on to Patrick so he could write about how much he dislikes the 'cult of Tao Lin', then you are a bigger glutton for punishment than even myself. Congratulations.

Now, as much as I would love to write about my favorite 00's sitcoms, the holidays always put me in a bad mood. Of course, I'd be in a much better mood if my favorite hooker hadn't become a born-again Christian.

5 worst sitcoms of the 00's:

5. Glee -- not technically a sitcom, but it's on the list because fuck everyone.
4. American Dad -- it's a cartoon, but it sucks. best way to get rid of a talking goldfish? fucking starve it.
3. Scrubs -- i think zach braff is talentless. someone somewhere compared him to john ritter, which i think should be punishable by being made to be the only sober person in a room full of drunken assholes.
2. Everybody Hates Chris -- i don't think chris rock has been funny since his SNL days. in fact, he's obnoxious. best way to get rid of chris rock? stop encouraging him.
1. According to Jim -- this is here only because king of queens began in '98.

5 worst news personalities (decade/contemporary):

5. Tim Ryan (kdfw fox4 news anchor): old, fat, white, whiny motherfucker who has more cash than brain cells. considers himself a curmudgeon, but just how thin is the line between curmudgeon and privileged dumb shit who basically reads teleprompters all day?
4. Keith Olbermann (nbc cable liberal version of Bill O'Reilly): smug, loud, and obnoxious. it's not that i hate him, i just don't particularly like him.
3. All those ultra conservative chicks on FOXNEWS: ugly, dumb, obnoxious, interchangeable vessels of neocon lust, these bitches know less about politics than i do about being a twelve-year-old thai transvestite prostitute.
2. Bill O'Reilly: this man needs no introduction. http://www.ruthlessreviews.com/653/a-bold-fresh-piece-of-humanity/ took the words right out of my mouth.
1. Glenn Beck (foxnews?): this man is a fucking titty baby. it's amazing: if a liberal cries or shows emotion, he/she is either crazy, a whiner, or worse, but a conservative does it, and it's passion? it's okay? no, it's not. a titty baby is a titty baby, and this guy is crazy to boot. i see him, and i'm thinking: this guy screams homosexual. but not the kind that buys you drinks in a bar because he wants to get to know you, no... one that bottles up his sexuality and hides in a closet, bashing the ones who accept who they are no matter the cost.

5 worst movies of the decade:

5. (500) days of summer -- i hate musicals. next.
4. eternal sunshine of the spotless mind -- i guess kaufman thought it'd be more clever to have this whole mind erasing shit... instead of having his characters respond normally; you know, like... going out and getting blitzed, fucking everything in sight. perhaps it is, but it's not as fun. fuck this movie.
3. jesus camp -- think of the children, my ass.
2. oh brother, where art thou? -- it's not the big lebowski, therefore it blows.
1. the 40 year old virgin -- not nearly as interesting as 'the 18 year old nympho.'

5 worst drunken benders:

5. in 2004 i woke up in bed with a girl that i thought my friend was hooking up with. she wasn't ugly, but she insisted on making me breakfast in bed. burnt pancakes and a small cartoon of oj. i left shortly after.
4. in 2006 i woke up with my jeans on. the pockets were bursting with lottery tickets. i'd bought $90 worth of tickets. i didn't win. lesson learned. er... not.
3. in 2003 i woke up pantless in a field. i freaked the fuck out. i was still a bit gone from the tequila. i realized i was in the field right next to my apartment complex when my neighbor began yelling at me. 'hey stu! stu! what in the hell is you doin'? naked ass muthafucka!'
2. in 2007 i brought a bottle of brandy to a college party. everyone was drinking beer and hitting the garbage pail punch. i started challenging the douchier looking guys to shot-for-shot contests. the general response was, 'hell yeah, brah! whatcha got there?' things commenced only after i was teased mercilessly for being snooty. for brandy! hennessy is brandy! never mind the fact that it was 7$ brandy. i woke up hours later naked on the floor under the beer pong table with three only moderately attractive coeds. i'd fucked them all. without protection. i made several trips to the local clinic. am std free.
1. in 2009 i woke up in a drunk tank after doing a series of dumpster readings. i was apparently so wasted when the cops found me that i was pissing on my own shoes and singing 'de colores.'

actually that was pretty cool.