aparently i have a reader whom i dont know... someone who hasnt read out of guilt...
can it be?
well, i promise to ramp up the posts. starting... later on.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Friday, January 4, 2008
old and my favorite
Corporation for Public Broadcasting (c.c.'d the Children's Television Workshop)
To my life-long friends at the Corporation for Public Broadcasting,
I was born in 1978. As a result, I was among your prime demographic during what many consider to have been the golden age of children's television. In those long gone days of yore, us children were treated to hours upon hours of the highest quality entertainment, and the best of it came directly from your organization. I'm talking about Reading Rainbow, 3-2-1- Contact, Square-One, Mr.. Roger's Neighborhood, and, the Zeus of your Olympian Pantheon of childhood delight, Sesame Street. As a young lad, I squealed with boundless joy every time I saw my favorite characters parade across the screen. Not only were there frequent visits by the likes of C-3PO and R-2-D-2, but the old standbys such as Kermit the Frog (in a cross-over achievement remarkable for an artist of his stature, especially in those close-minded times), the terrifying Count, Forgetful Jones, Oscar the Grouch and his pall Slimy, The as-then invisible Mr. Snuffaluffagus (a Greek Mastodon? Genius!), and the late Mr. Hooper. Notice I have not included the lamentable and insufferable "Elmo", who came upon the scene like a festering boil, thankfully long after I had stopped watching.
The best, most loveable, and perhaps most misunderstood of your wonderful cast of characters was indubitably the obviously bulimic Cookie Monster. Cookie Monster represented to me the chaotic expulsiveness that came to dominate my early childhood; the snowball fights, the school bus riots, the terrorizing of countless babysitters. The way he would pour cookies into his mouth with reckless abandon, not even caring that most, if not all of them, fell right back out, all the while groaning his idiosyncratic "ummmmnumnumnummm" with almost orgasmic intensity, came to almost completely define my preadolescent worldview.
But now, this morning, I awoke to find that the most basic and totemic expression of my childhood glee has been, for lack of a better word, castrated by mindless pandering to the P.C. lobby. Cookie Monster has given up cookies. Take a second, and read that again. Cookie Monster has given up Cookies. WHAT THE FUCK. He now will eat vegetables, and even fruit.
I'm not even going to get into the fact that he is, in fact, a MONSTER, and therefore can eat whatever he damn well pleases. This is more a matter of principle. I find it repellent and regrettable that an institution as revered and important as CPB and PBS would bend to kiss the collective ass of all the miserable do-gooders out there that are afraid to indulge in a cookie binge from time to time. Have you no backbone, no integrity?
Unfortunately, at this time, I am disgusted beyond the capacity for rational thought, and so I will say no more. Let me just finish by saying that you have destroyed my childhood. You motherfuckers.
Sean Michael Conklin
Doctor of Awesomness.
To my life-long friends at the Corporation for Public Broadcasting,
I was born in 1978. As a result, I was among your prime demographic during what many consider to have been the golden age of children's television. In those long gone days of yore, us children were treated to hours upon hours of the highest quality entertainment, and the best of it came directly from your organization. I'm talking about Reading Rainbow, 3-2-1- Contact, Square-One, Mr.. Roger's Neighborhood, and, the Zeus of your Olympian Pantheon of childhood delight, Sesame Street. As a young lad, I squealed with boundless joy every time I saw my favorite characters parade across the screen. Not only were there frequent visits by the likes of C-3PO and R-2-D-2, but the old standbys such as Kermit the Frog (in a cross-over achievement remarkable for an artist of his stature, especially in those close-minded times), the terrifying Count, Forgetful Jones, Oscar the Grouch and his pall Slimy, The as-then invisible Mr. Snuffaluffagus (a Greek Mastodon? Genius!), and the late Mr. Hooper. Notice I have not included the lamentable and insufferable "Elmo", who came upon the scene like a festering boil, thankfully long after I had stopped watching.
The best, most loveable, and perhaps most misunderstood of your wonderful cast of characters was indubitably the obviously bulimic Cookie Monster. Cookie Monster represented to me the chaotic expulsiveness that came to dominate my early childhood; the snowball fights, the school bus riots, the terrorizing of countless babysitters. The way he would pour cookies into his mouth with reckless abandon, not even caring that most, if not all of them, fell right back out, all the while groaning his idiosyncratic "ummmmnumnumnummm" with almost orgasmic intensity, came to almost completely define my preadolescent worldview.
But now, this morning, I awoke to find that the most basic and totemic expression of my childhood glee has been, for lack of a better word, castrated by mindless pandering to the P.C. lobby. Cookie Monster has given up cookies. Take a second, and read that again. Cookie Monster has given up Cookies. WHAT THE FUCK. He now will eat vegetables, and even fruit.
I'm not even going to get into the fact that he is, in fact, a MONSTER, and therefore can eat whatever he damn well pleases. This is more a matter of principle. I find it repellent and regrettable that an institution as revered and important as CPB and PBS would bend to kiss the collective ass of all the miserable do-gooders out there that are afraid to indulge in a cookie binge from time to time. Have you no backbone, no integrity?
Unfortunately, at this time, I am disgusted beyond the capacity for rational thought, and so I will say no more. Let me just finish by saying that you have destroyed my childhood. You motherfuckers.
Sean Michael Conklin
Doctor of Awesomness.
Old but better
Budweisser:
Dear Budweiser,
I love budweiser beer. Budweiser is by far the freshest tasting, crispest, most refreshing beer that god ever invented. I love it, my wife loves it, our little daughter loves it! I know how some people are allways saying little kids shouldnt drink beer, but hey, at least its not crack, right? Also, my dog loves your beer. I usualy make him drink about 24 ounces at dinner, and i dont let him eat until he drinks it all. Then i feed him chocolate and chicken! YUM!
The best part about budweiser is the way it impairs your ability to drive! I didnt believe this at first, i allways thought driving drunk would be dangerous, but not with Bud! I fly throught the streets like a madman! I could never do that sober or drunk on some other, inferior beer. I usualy drink about 40 bottles of budweiser after work, then i put the wife and kids in the car and its off to the races! FUCK YEAH! Everybody better clear the roads, cause im hell on wheels, baby! YEAH!
Oh yeah, i love how much it makes me pee, too. And it softens my stools! no more uncomfortable bowel movements! When my daughter grows up and starts dating, im not letting her near anyone who doesnt drink at least a 12er of bud every day. How do they expect to have sex with my daughter if theyre not wasted on bud? Shes pretty ugly. Especially with the Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. She looks like kermit the goddamn frog.
Anyway, thank you for making the best beer in the universe. I love you so so so much.
ps- are those frogs still alive?
-Reverend Mint Conklin
Dear Budweiser,
I love budweiser beer. Budweiser is by far the freshest tasting, crispest, most refreshing beer that god ever invented. I love it, my wife loves it, our little daughter loves it! I know how some people are allways saying little kids shouldnt drink beer, but hey, at least its not crack, right? Also, my dog loves your beer. I usualy make him drink about 24 ounces at dinner, and i dont let him eat until he drinks it all. Then i feed him chocolate and chicken! YUM!
The best part about budweiser is the way it impairs your ability to drive! I didnt believe this at first, i allways thought driving drunk would be dangerous, but not with Bud! I fly throught the streets like a madman! I could never do that sober or drunk on some other, inferior beer. I usualy drink about 40 bottles of budweiser after work, then i put the wife and kids in the car and its off to the races! FUCK YEAH! Everybody better clear the roads, cause im hell on wheels, baby! YEAH!
Oh yeah, i love how much it makes me pee, too. And it softens my stools! no more uncomfortable bowel movements! When my daughter grows up and starts dating, im not letting her near anyone who doesnt drink at least a 12er of bud every day. How do they expect to have sex with my daughter if theyre not wasted on bud? Shes pretty ugly. Especially with the Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. She looks like kermit the goddamn frog.
Anyway, thank you for making the best beer in the universe. I love you so so so much.
ps- are those frogs still alive?
-Reverend Mint Conklin
Old but good
I'm out of ideas, so just like holywood its time to start recycling. Here are some emails i wrote to various corporations a few years ago.
ConAgra Foods:
Hello my friends,
I just tried your Banguet brand Chicken Pot Pie, and all I can say is HOLY FUCKING SHIT THATS A GOOD POT PIE! I love pot pie, i love chicken, and i LOVE chicken pot pie. But ive never had one this good. I have been looking for the perfect CPP for years, ever since my mom used to make them back when i was little. She used to burn them badly, and they tasted like ballsack. Once she "accidently" droped one on my lap and caused 3rd degree burns on my genitals. but thats neither here nor there. The point is that the CPP YOU make is amazing. I love the way the flavor dances on my tounge, and all over my chest, when i rub it there. I wish i had more CPP. I just ate one on my lunch break, and my boss had to ask me to leave the lunchroom because i was moaning so loud. Aparently i was suposed to have pants on in the lunchroom as well. Who knew?
Anyway, Please keep making your wonderful CPPs. If you ever stop making them, i will starve to death.
Yours Truly,
Mint Conklin
ConAgra Foods:
Hello my friends,
I just tried your Banguet brand Chicken Pot Pie, and all I can say is HOLY FUCKING SHIT THATS A GOOD POT PIE! I love pot pie, i love chicken, and i LOVE chicken pot pie. But ive never had one this good. I have been looking for the perfect CPP for years, ever since my mom used to make them back when i was little. She used to burn them badly, and they tasted like ballsack. Once she "accidently" droped one on my lap and caused 3rd degree burns on my genitals. but thats neither here nor there. The point is that the CPP YOU make is amazing. I love the way the flavor dances on my tounge, and all over my chest, when i rub it there. I wish i had more CPP. I just ate one on my lunch break, and my boss had to ask me to leave the lunchroom because i was moaning so loud. Aparently i was suposed to have pants on in the lunchroom as well. Who knew?
Anyway, Please keep making your wonderful CPPs. If you ever stop making them, i will starve to death.
Yours Truly,
Mint Conklin
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
HOLY FUCKING SHIT DUDE
Katelyn and I are engaged. Its true, I swear. Now we are destined to become likeone of those sitcom couples; the really hot wife with the schlubby, borderline retarded husband. You know, like on the simpsons or the honeymooners or king of queens. Just dont tell katelyn.
I realized today that i havent even posted on this thing for over a month, and judging by the number of responses ive gotten in the history of this blog, i have one reader. ONE. And, she doesnt even count, because she is a friend of mine who probably reads it out of pitty, and she has her own blog which is more than slightly better than this one. It doesnt even pretend to be all radical and shit, and its about a BABY, which no one can argue with unless they are hitler or some shit.
So yeah, this blog is shit. Im going to revamp it. I say that now. But maybe it will really happen; who knows? Ill start tonight if i get some work done in the next hour. No one is even reading this. This is hilarious.
I realized today that i havent even posted on this thing for over a month, and judging by the number of responses ive gotten in the history of this blog, i have one reader. ONE. And, she doesnt even count, because she is a friend of mine who probably reads it out of pitty, and she has her own blog which is more than slightly better than this one. It doesnt even pretend to be all radical and shit, and its about a BABY, which no one can argue with unless they are hitler or some shit.
So yeah, this blog is shit. Im going to revamp it. I say that now. But maybe it will really happen; who knows? Ill start tonight if i get some work done in the next hour. No one is even reading this. This is hilarious.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
call me unreliable
but yeah, obviously i wasnt going to finish that post. So solly.
So the news as such; things are progressing well around here. By which i mean that neither one of us is sick and we are both employed. Also, the Red Sox won the world series again, which feels like it should be rediculous and insane and fucking batshit awesome, but for some reason was kinda expected. Also, the fact that they won with a sweep was a bit disapointing ot me; i was really hoping to be able to watch more games. Oh well.
stay tuned; ill write more tomorrow. No really.
What a shitty blog.
So the news as such; things are progressing well around here. By which i mean that neither one of us is sick and we are both employed. Also, the Red Sox won the world series again, which feels like it should be rediculous and insane and fucking batshit awesome, but for some reason was kinda expected. Also, the fact that they won with a sweep was a bit disapointing ot me; i was really hoping to be able to watch more games. Oh well.
stay tuned; ill write more tomorrow. No really.
What a shitty blog.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
hmm.
so jess (lazukahouse.blogspot.com) read all about my bad dreams and told me that
"That little baby thing is freaky. I looked it up though and here is one interpretation:'To see a baby in your dream, signifies innocence, warmth and new beginnings. Babies may symbolize something in your own inner nature which is pure, vulnerable, and/or uncorrupted. To dream of an extremely small baby, symbolizes your helplessness and your fears of letting others become aware of your vulnerabilities and incompetence. You may be afraid to ask for help and as a result tend to take matters into your own hands."
nobody likes to admit their own vulnerability, but obviously if im having nightmared about it i should perhaps look into it. i gues it might be best to start by making a list of real or percieved vulnerabilities. so here goes.
VULNERABILITIES:
-death (real)
-financial ruin (real)
-aliens (perceived...or IS it?)
-insanity (perceived)
-tendency toward pacifism (real)
-tendency toward overindulgence (real)
-tendency toward irresponsibility (real)
-tendency toward addiction (not sure but probably real)
now, of these things (and this is by no means an exhaustive list), which could cause the kind of mind-torching anxiety that fuels the dreams i have? I will categorically eliminate the first two since both are a part of the natural (the former) or artificial (the latter) human condition and must therefore be accepted as a constant. that leaves us with my phobias of aliens and insanity on the percieved side, and my instinctive avoidance of conflict and various other self-destructive tendencies on the real side. might as well start with whats real and work through to what is percieved, since going backwards amuses me.
1- tendency towards pacifism.
this one is a real bitch. i have had this problem my whole life and have only been able to begin to overcome it in the last five years or so. for example, as a child i woud alow someone to stand on my foot in line rather than confront them about something they most likely werent even aware they were doing. On the other extreeme, i regulary endured insults, derision, and even physical assault without retaliation; often without even aknowledgement. over the years, this caused so much corrosive anger to build up in my that it eventualy turned to self loathing over never having stood up for myself or anyone else. then one day i heard a song by The Clash and realized that i am no better but certainly no lower than anyone else, and the next person who fucked with me was going to get it "three times back". even so, im like a recovering addict with pacifism. i have to remind myself that nobody alive has any right to cut me in line, insult me or my loved ones, or otherwise pull any shit over on me.
2- tendency towards overindulgence.
have we met? i dont seem to have any capacity for moderation WHATSOEVER. William Blake said that "the road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom". while this may or may not be true, it is the reason why the upstairs bathroom in cluster c at bradford college was known as "The Palace of Wisdom" durring my tenure there.
3- tnedency towards irresponsibility
it may not seem like it, but this has alot to do with the pacifism deal. its like i instinctively assume i do not deserve to reap the benefits of being responsible, so i set traps for myself by acting grossly irresponsibly.
4- tendency towards addiction
lets just say ive killed my share of demons. and its true what joe strummer said; you dont chase them down, youve got to grab them and pinn them to the ground. and i still smoke and drink too much, and i seem to have a problem with cough drops.
OK, im going to knock off for tonight, but ill be back tomorrow with the PERCIEVED and then some kind of summary so that reading this doesnt seem like a COMPLETE waste of time (it was, though).
"That little baby thing is freaky. I looked it up though and here is one interpretation:'To see a baby in your dream, signifies innocence, warmth and new beginnings. Babies may symbolize something in your own inner nature which is pure, vulnerable, and/or uncorrupted. To dream of an extremely small baby, symbolizes your helplessness and your fears of letting others become aware of your vulnerabilities and incompetence. You may be afraid to ask for help and as a result tend to take matters into your own hands."
nobody likes to admit their own vulnerability, but obviously if im having nightmared about it i should perhaps look into it. i gues it might be best to start by making a list of real or percieved vulnerabilities. so here goes.
VULNERABILITIES:
-death (real)
-financial ruin (real)
-aliens (perceived...or IS it?)
-insanity (perceived)
-tendency toward pacifism (real)
-tendency toward overindulgence (real)
-tendency toward irresponsibility (real)
-tendency toward addiction (not sure but probably real)
now, of these things (and this is by no means an exhaustive list), which could cause the kind of mind-torching anxiety that fuels the dreams i have? I will categorically eliminate the first two since both are a part of the natural (the former) or artificial (the latter) human condition and must therefore be accepted as a constant. that leaves us with my phobias of aliens and insanity on the percieved side, and my instinctive avoidance of conflict and various other self-destructive tendencies on the real side. might as well start with whats real and work through to what is percieved, since going backwards amuses me.
1- tendency towards pacifism.
this one is a real bitch. i have had this problem my whole life and have only been able to begin to overcome it in the last five years or so. for example, as a child i woud alow someone to stand on my foot in line rather than confront them about something they most likely werent even aware they were doing. On the other extreeme, i regulary endured insults, derision, and even physical assault without retaliation; often without even aknowledgement. over the years, this caused so much corrosive anger to build up in my that it eventualy turned to self loathing over never having stood up for myself or anyone else. then one day i heard a song by The Clash and realized that i am no better but certainly no lower than anyone else, and the next person who fucked with me was going to get it "three times back". even so, im like a recovering addict with pacifism. i have to remind myself that nobody alive has any right to cut me in line, insult me or my loved ones, or otherwise pull any shit over on me.
2- tendency towards overindulgence.
have we met? i dont seem to have any capacity for moderation WHATSOEVER. William Blake said that "the road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom". while this may or may not be true, it is the reason why the upstairs bathroom in cluster c at bradford college was known as "The Palace of Wisdom" durring my tenure there.
3- tnedency towards irresponsibility
it may not seem like it, but this has alot to do with the pacifism deal. its like i instinctively assume i do not deserve to reap the benefits of being responsible, so i set traps for myself by acting grossly irresponsibly.
4- tendency towards addiction
lets just say ive killed my share of demons. and its true what joe strummer said; you dont chase them down, youve got to grab them and pinn them to the ground. and i still smoke and drink too much, and i seem to have a problem with cough drops.
OK, im going to knock off for tonight, but ill be back tomorrow with the PERCIEVED and then some kind of summary so that reading this doesnt seem like a COMPLETE waste of time (it was, though).
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