What Fresh Hell Is This?

Since I'm always looking for more people to tell me what to do, how to act, and what to think, I was intrigued by this list of 1001 must-read fiction titles. And since anything that's vaguely interesting to me is bound to be earth-shatteringly life-altering for you, I share it with you now.

More lists:

- 100 essential Jazz albums

- The Thousand "best" films of all time (I will save you the cruel suspense: Ironman did not make the list)

- And, not quite a list, but a review of a list in book-form (can't wait for the audiobook!), Your Essential Reading List for Becoming a Literary Genius in 365 Days.

I love that last site, because a) it's called "Bookslut" (two of my favorite things!), and b) she mentions Neiszche, which as you well know is a primary symptom of pedantic nitwittery (see my previous posts).

Go forth and be enlightened, my delicious little monkey-lickers.

Hah! And I Bet You Thought I Was Some Sort of Fuckwit

Deliberate stupidity is something of a hobby of mine, or I like to pretend it is. When I can't honestly blame my behavior on public drunkenness, it sometimes serves my purposes to feed the furnace of your convictions, and buttress your appreciation of my nincompoopery.

Here then, for your edification and amusement, a rogue's gallery of false-false-meta-sub-meta-stupidity, a platter of crudités, typical of the type of primitive methods I employed in my youth, still in obvious high season out and about the interwebs, should one care to look.

Exhibit A: Spelling mistakes. This is really the low-hanging fruit of the blogging world. Spelling and grammar will evolve from toy to tool. Wield the awesome power of strategic misspelling, and an unplumbed depth of subtle double-entendre is yours for the taking. But true power lies in the dark side of grammar. Spelling is for n00bs. Grammar is for misanthropes. To boldly split infinitives, mis-structure sentences, abuse punctuation, dangle participles; all these are things you must be master of.

If reading that last sentence caused you physical pain, then you are almost pedantic enough for Exhibit B: "Bait and Switch" vocabulary. Start your post by rambling on (albeit from a creative and refreshing point of view) about Nietzsche's Birth of Tragedy (you can go with Kafka for a low-fat alternative), spout nonsensical philosopho-babble about the Apollonian and Dionysian blah-de-blah, then throw in one of the following:
- Some swearing ("Nietzsche was a dick-hole")
- Some misspelling (Nietzsche is a good one for this. With a minimum amount of effort you can misspell his name about fifty different ways).
- Some totally inappropriate pornography (and no, I will not link to the infamous boob post, so don't ask).
- Some self-deprecating false-modesty.
- stupid acronyms, like LOL, or STFU, or TL:DR.
- If you can't be bothered to be lazy, at least try to fake it convincingly. Links to Wikipedia are great for this.
- Some overuse of a current (or very recently post-current) internet meme. Good examples: lolcatz, 2Girls1Cup, "Somebody set up us the bomb", "series of tubes", "interwebs", etcetera. There really is an inexhaustible supply of stupidity out there for you to draw from.

So it would be useful to pretend that I'm blogging drunk right now, but that would be a lie, AFAIK, instead, I'm going to pretend that all these recent spelling errors and grammatical miscalculations and run-on sentences and the like are a deliberate fishing expedition. So far, no nibbles, but it's been good for crew morale.

Speaking of good for morale: I'm on vacation this week. Or more accurately, I'm on wife's idea of a vacation, which involves me repainting our home to more accurately reproduce the splendor of the Borgia papal apartments. Anyhoo, Ironman texted me while Wife and I were out today watching the actual Ironman movie (how... Ironic! LOL!). Something about how life at PerpetualStartup is a sunless, timeless void without my effervescent presence and the inextinguishable light that shines from my ass at all hours.

I responded hastily, not wishing to disturb the one other movie patron with the light of my cell phone: "remember that next time I do something stupid". Ironman made some sort of answer about his short attention span, and how he couldn't think that far ahead, which I took as a flattering comment on the rarity (and therefore presumed high market value) of examples of my incompetence. So that was nice.

But really, what do I know?

Tune in next time for more on the subtle art of being really unapologetically thick. Actually, screw that. I think I've provided you horrible paparazzi with enough ammunition for one sitting. This post alone is a fucking goldmine of self-referential silliness, which is really the ultimate form of anti-enlightenment.

Gaze into my navel!

I'm Not Telling You Anything You Don't Already Know. I Know.

Isabella Rossellini is endowed with a universal hotness that transcends age, gender, or sexual orientation. Which is how I know that you, perverted little monkey that you are, will be excited to discover her recent forays into insectophile pornography. Titled "Green Porno", it's apparently a commentary on something or other. You know, the beauty of nature, purity of the insect's libidinous urges (carnivorous mantis-booty is a particularly vivid example), etcetera. Whatever. This may be the only chance you have to witness this Italian goddess starring in insect pr0n.

Go. Go now.

[Edit] Oh yeah, and she aways plays the male insect, which is totally a metaphor or something. Very profound.