On Independence Day: July 5th

In anticipation for the buzz surrounding a possible sequel to Independence Day (the best movie ever made) I have dedicated this post to Russell Casse. If it wasn't for you, brosk, we wouldn't have kicked all that alien ass. Payback is a bitch. RIP Russell Casse: An American Hero.



Well, you did it America, I mean World, you did it. You banded together and launched a simultaneous attack on the alien invaders and you killed them. Good job, World, you saved the World. On this day, our Independence Day, we humble humans with our puny technology beat out telekinetic aliens I once heard described as "like locusts. They're moving from planet to planet... their whole civilization. After they've consumed every natural resource they move on." Pretty scary, huh? Well, not anymore, World, because you kicked their ass. Jeff Goldblum loaded some spyware on their computer, and after several pop-ups proclaiming "CONGRATULATIONS! YOU JUST WON A BRAND NEW IPAD" their computers blew up and with it all of their defenses. And then you nuked them, World. You nuked them and it was awesome. There was dancing in the streets celebration on the steps of the pyramids as the aliens spacecraft crashed to the Earth in a flaming, impotent heap. We had lived. The aliens had not.

What now?

Before anybody knew what to do the aliens had already destroyed several cities. New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, Moscow, London, Paris, Houston. They're all gone. Destroyed. Houston! What will the Earth do without Houston!?!?!? If every economic stronghold left in the world is destroyed how do you expect to rebuild a global economy? What do we do now? Ah, the aliens are dead, guess I'll go back to work at... Oh, wait. Currency is useless now. Best case scenario: we're about to enter a global economic and political reconstruction the likes of which we have never seen before in recorded history. Worst case scenario: Worldwide panic and systematic murder of one another in resulting chaos.

Yeah, the aliens are gone, but so is the stock market. Not only that but several worldwide cities are now graveyards of twisted, burning infrastructure. Do you think FEMA knows what to do? FEMA is shitting it's pants right now! And that's If FEMA is still even there, seeing as it was in Washington D.C- which no longer exists by the way in case you were too busy dancing on the steps of the pyramids to realize. How do you expect going about rebuilding a country that's population is mostly dead or trapped under smoking rubble? I don't think the New Deal is going to solve this impending economic depression. World War III is not going to float all our economies.

Besides that. Do you know how that smoking rubble got there in the first place? Well, let's look back on the events of yesterday. Giant alien spacecrafts opened up their primary weapon and shot a beam of weird laser energy and then uhh, ah hell, I'll just show you:

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT? No! Seriously! What was that? I've never seen anything on Earth do that! It's a nuclear bomb times 1,000,000. That had to be radioactive. It's a giant cloud of fire! There's no doubt that was radioactive. So, basically, on top of everything else we're probably going into a nuclear winter because, even though I'm no expert, that seems like the likely product of giant cloud of fire caused via laser beam. Moreover, let me remind you once more that this didn't happen just in a couple cities. This happened everywhere. If there is one event that's going to trigger massive and devastating climate change it is this. Not to mention remember all those alien spacecraft we sent hurtling toward the ground engulfed in flames? Remember those? What were in those? Probably nothing good. Probably not something you can find on the periodic table of fucking elements. How are we supposed to clean something up when we don't know what it is! Not to mention, it's stupid to think that there aren't any alien survivors. There definitely are. Yes, giant aliens with tentacles and telekinetic powers are roaming around the Earth, pretty pissed off right about now.

Basically, World, this is not good news. On an economic level, it's bad news. On a societal level, it's bad news. On a environmental level, it's bad news. On a basic human health level, it's bad news. Bad, bad, bad news. So, the question is. What do we do now? How do we continue to survive as a race. Because after the huge victory of defeating the aliens I am not ready to die of radiation-induced lymphoma. Nope. Not me. I'm an American! And this is our Independence Day! I am not about to die via the extenuating circumstances of an alien invasion. I don't know about you guys, but fuck the aliens. Fuck those guys.

So, what now? I'll tell you what now, World. We take those bastards for all that their worth. We take those fancy-shmancy alien scientists down at Area 51 and we make them fix those goddamn spacecrafts. We did it for Will Smith and Jeff Goldblum's alien taxi cab- we can do it for those giant circular thingies. We fix them. All of them. And then what? I'll tell you what, we get the fuck off this rock. I didn't even like it anyway, fuck Earth, man. I don't want to be here, its small and cramped and filled with deadly radiation. There's gotta be somewhere better and I'm getting out while the gettin's good. Where do we go, you ask. Well, I'll tell you where we go. We move somewhere else, to another world, another civilization. We take all it's resources and technology and move on. We'll get stronger. And we'll continue doing this for the rest of eternity. We will survive, World. Because that is what we are. We are survivors. We kicked alien ass before and, goddamnit, we will do it again. We will band together once more! We will be like locusts! Moving from planet to planet! Our whole civilization! After we've consumed every natural resource we move on! Because that's what we do, humanity, we kick alien ass. Forever and always.

Investigative Report On The Wizarding World.

Upon first glance it's easy to detect what the downfall of the Harry Potter Wizarding World was- Voldemort, of course. An evil, tyrannical psychopath has a destructive effect on a civilization. However, once you probe deeper into the inner-workings of such a clandestine society like the magical world in Great Britain you begin to see the complex latticework that allowed one random nose-less dude to reek havoc upon millions (Thousands? Hundreds? Everyone seems to know each other in the wizarding world. Do they have a Census? I doubt it.)

I'd like to begin this analysis by stating that the Wizarding World has put themselves on a higher plane than what they like to call "muggles" or non-magical beings. No magic?! People who use cars! Hah! And Cell Phones! What?? They don't even use wands. It's astounding to wizards that since we tiny folk can't use magic we have to resort to using airplanes to get from place to place (instead of popping into or out of existence whenever we pleased), or actually developing a practical currency (massive circular discs of gold is not a practical currency. What is your economy based on anyway, Wizards? Is it free market? It seems like all of your economic growth stems from a single street of shops in London. Most of which serve exclusively candy and ice cream). All of these things make these so called wizards feel better than their non-magical counterparts. The word Muggle even has a hard "g" sound which makes it sound a lot like "niggers" or "faggots" which happen to be racial slurs, if you didn't know. Even the wizards who find it in the goodness of their hearts to take pity upon we lower beings and shower us with kindness are still acting out segregation (keeping your existence a secret from the rest of the world = segregation) and discrimination. Not only that but they look at non-magical beings with a gross fascination (Muggle Artifacts Office. Case in point.) While the more conservative wizards actively punish muggles, calling them "mudbloods" and torturing them and so on and so forth, non-radical wizards just treat muggles as a cause much like the ASPCA. Sad, unwanted, pityable albeit cute creatures who once in a blue moon they'll adopt.

How very kind of you, wizards! I know, it sucks so much that I actually have to get up and get the remote instead of flicking my wrist and having it levitate towards me. Oh, wait, you guys don't have TV, do you? Bummer. There is one thing, however, that we muggles have figured out (albeit through trial and error) that you fancy wizarding types can't seem to grasp which results in your entire society living in constant fear of a terrible and gruesome death. Democracy. Yes, wizards, this is something you lack.

Let's talk about the Ministry of Magic. The entirety of the Britain magical world is run by a bureaucracy that is duly-appointed by a small group of rich aristocrats. Ministers of Magic do not get elected, they get appointed. This Ministry is formed of several departments, each strictly regulating how a wizard or witch goes about living their life. There's a department in this ministry that's sole purpose is to monitor your fireplace. The fireplace in your private home. As if that's not enough they put a trace on your child so they can monitor their activity too. And The Department of Mysteries? That department exists solely for keeping secrets from the general public. At least in America we try to hide we have one of those. Any sort of legal system in place in the wizarding world is run- for the most part- by biased elderly rich men, and then the Ministry needs to hire employees (with who's money? Taxpayer money? Who on Earth would pay taxes if every time a auditor came by you could pop out of the country?) to make sure their entire existence is kept secret, and if someone breaks that they need to pay the consequences and possibly go to prison.

Ah, the Prison System. The prison in the Magical World is on a small island and it's called Azkaban. Sounds like Alcatraz right??? Oh, yeah, except in our prisons we don't employ phantom guards that suck out the happiness of everyone imprisoned. That sounds like a violation of human rights to me. Let's put aside things like the Death Penalty for a second and examine the fact that if you waterboard a prisoner in the muggle world, for even a few minutes, it's a crime worthy of the Hague? However, in the Wizarding World nobody seems to question that the Prisons are guarded by demons, who suck your soul out through your mouth. Not only that but they have flimsy allegiances! At any second they may be release everyone from prison and join the enemy.

The enemy. Evil Lord Voldemort. Could this sad, evil, monster perhaps be a product of the flawed, undemocratic bureaucracy that brought him up? The Wizarding World: An elitist society with an absolute leader and a clear intelligentsia. How is it that a violent reactionary could POSSIBLY arise from that sort of society? Wow. Gosh, you know, this is beginning to sound a lot like Russia. You know what happened to Russia? They revolted and half their population died. Furthermore, for the better part of a century Russia was led under fascist, virtual martial law. Gosh, Wizarding World, sounds exactly like what happened to you. I wish there was a group of teenagers who would have killed Joseph Stalin before he could kill 35.5 million Russians. I guess everyone isn't as lucky as you.

Perhaps, Wizarding World, you should get off your magical high horse and really take a look at yourselves. Perhaps, all these angry, radical terrorists that seem to crop up in the thousands are a reaction to the undemocratic, pretentious and unforgiving society you have put in place. I'm sure if you read this investigative piece of journalism you will just think "Oh. Poor Muggle. She doesn't understand anything! She can't even do magic! How pitiable!" Poor us. Poor Muggles. Yeah. Well. Listen up, dickwads, how about we drop a nuke all over Hogsmeade and we'll see what you do with your wands then.

Perhaps if for some reason the Wizarding World dropped their (basically) government run news publications and actually produced some worthwhile bipartisan journalism my words would reach someone. Perhaps if the best investigative journalist of your times wasn't Rita Skeeter (ours isn't Kitty Kelly, Jesus, get a journalism school, Wizards) and perhaps if the only alternative media source, The Quibbler, wasn't written by a veritable crazy person (and probable drug addict) this piece of journalism would matter. Maybe, if this was a piece of investigative journalism in the 60s maybe I could have done something, but now. Now. Drunk with power after destroying evil by recruiting children to do your dirty work, my words are just dust in the wind.

A Letter to Latin

Dear Latin,

You think you’re really fucking funny, don’t you? It’s hilarious to have fourteen different words for the verb “go” isn’t it? I bet you think you’re smart too. Because apparently having five different declensions, three genders, seven noun cases, four verb conjugations, six tenses, six persons, three moods, two voices and two aspects makes a language really scholarly. I’m sure you think you’re hot shit because Ceasar spoke your language. Well, guess what? Ceasar was brutally murdered by his best friend. Latin, I fantasize about hitting you over the head with a baseball bat and watch the blood ooze out of your cracked skull. I think about pulling your fingernails out one by one, watching you scream out in pain over and over and over again and I laugh. If Doc Brown pulled up in his Delorean and told me to hop in I would set that puppy to 300 B.C. and murder your pregnant mother so you would never see the light of day. You see what you’ve reduced me to, Latin? A borderline psychopath with homicidal tendencies. You think you’re the mother of all languages? You make me sick. You make me want to move to Germany so I could speak a language that has nothing to do with you, and I’m Jewish, so that’s a pretty high order of hatred- making a Jew want to move to Germany. The only pleasure I get from your existence is that you’re dead. Yeah. You’re dead. You can think you’re smart and funny and cool but the truth is- nobody speaks you anymore except for Catholics, and guess what? Nobody really likes Catholics. So, Latin, I guess my point is- you’re not funny, rot in hell.

Love,
Kate Shapiro

Five Awesome Things To Do At Bars

Have you ever gone to a bar and went, well this is boring. Yeah, me too. But I got over it, mainly by adhering to these five great activities to do at bars. Here are five things to do at bars to assure that you have the most exciting Sunday at 3:00 AM ever!

1. Convince a fully grown adult to do a jagerbomb. Usually, after college the jagerbomb falls to the wayside. A shot of Jager and some Red Bull? That is the unsophisticated sort of drinking done by frat boys and scantily-clad women at some Lacrosse party at Duke. That is the unsophisticated sort of drinking that is followed by a stripper gang-rape scenario that makes your Gender Studies class like totally awkward for the next four months. Thank you very much, but I'll take my white wine spritzer instead. It's hard to convince a hard-working professional to do a jagerbomb but it is possible. Step One: Make sure they are already sort of drunk (white wine spritzer number four) Step Two: Engage them in some sort of witty banter. Maybe make a joke, or a fake reference ("Did you see that man over there do a jagerbomb? Classy, huh, right? HAH.") Step Three: Challenge them ("You should do a jagerbomb. IRONIC, right? It would be so hilarious.") If this doesn't work, which it will, because fully grown adults love irony then you can resort to Plan B. Which maybe should be your Plan A solely for the comedy. Plan B: If they still won't do the jagerbomb then you say "Okay, fine, lets see what the rest of the bar thinks." Then you go around and take a poll of the entire bar on whether this person should do a jagerbomb. Rally everyone together, and publicly shame them into doing the jagerbomb. Either way, that jagerbomb is going to be drunk and it's going to be entertaining.

2. Play a Drinking Game With That Drunk Guy Asleep In The Corner. Ah, drunk guy asleep in the corner. You are there, day and night, lurking, half asleep in the corner. You try to stay awake, but you just drank too damn much. Your appearance might change but there you are, slumped in a chair, surrounded by your friends, your friends who have forgotten you. I haven't forgotten you, drunk guy. I haven't forgotten you. So, you and a friend sit near the Sleeping Drunk Guy, but not too close. Sit at least five feet away. Train your eyes on him. Under no circumstances should you look away. Every time his eyes flutter open or he twitches a bit to the side, take a drink. There are two warnings about this game though. 1, Sleepy Drunk Guy may completely lose consciousness so the game could get boring fast. 2, Sleepy Drunk Guy may completely gain consciousness and catch on the game and get mad at you for using his current sloppy state as entertainment. Things might get belligerent fast.If all goes well though, you'll be drunk and giggling the entire night.

3. Find a French guy. He's allusive but he's there. Just look for a thin mustache, a cardigan and an air of pretension. Tell him to "Speak France." If he does, buy him a shot, if he doesn't, he's a dick, so start berating him with questions about France. ("Do they have houses in France? What about paved roads? Is there electricity? Why do French people smell so funny? Do they smell funny in France? Who is King of France these days anyway? What do they call French Fries in France? Do they call them Freedom Fries? That's what we call them in America. How accurate was the movie Moulin Rouge?") This can work for any foreign country actually, and most regions of America too.

4. Get People To Make Out. Hey! You! Come on! Make out! It'll be fun! Yeah! HEY-O! It's easy to get people to make out. Mainly because everybody wants to make out. Especially when they're drunk. What is great about drunk people is that they will make out with basically anybody. No man, woman, child or dog is off-limits to the drunk person. This activity has a 100% success rate. It may take some time but they will make-out and it will be epic. And usually disgusting! What you do is find a group of friends. A herd is best, congregated in a corner, huddled over empty beer bottles. Go over to them and find one person. Become friends with them. Ask them about their life. Ingratiate yourselves to them. Form a camaraderie. Migrate to an adjacent group of people with completely different characteristics. Maybe the person you found was a young hipster chick, and you walk over to some slightly overweight bros, or some late 30s aging businessmen, or really drunk Asians. The possibilities are endless. Then just point blank ask them to make out. Just go for it. They'll appreciate your directness. They want to make out. They totally already do. You're just a catalyst. Hey, maybe they'll get married and love each other forever. Or maybe it'll just be a lone hook up with maybe a boob grab. Either way, it will be hilarious. Also, funniest hook-ups: people in the army.

5. Most likely there is a TV with some sort of sports game. There will be one avid sports fan. At least one. Probably a group. Every sports team has a rivalry, right? Find out what that rivalry is and milk it. Say there is a Yankees/Red Sox game on and you are in New York City. Start talking about the Red Sox as if you had no idea they were Yankees fans. You don't even have to know much about sports. In fact, it's better that you go about this with an air of ignorance. "Wow, the Red Sox are pretty good this year, aren't they? Who pitches for them? Either way they're pretty good. I think they'll go to the World Series. Probably win it too. What a great franchise." The sports fan is already annoyed with you at this point but he won't push you away. He will try to correct you. The sports fan will always try to correct your world view. Keep feigning ignorance, you can even say "This isn't a Red Sox bar?" The great thing about sports fans is this: they just want to fight with you. Fighting with sports fans is fun because they get completely worked up over sports. Sports! They're not even playing the sports! Yet, they will still come to blows over said sports. I have once watched nine Phillies fans beat the shit out of a guy in a Yankees shirt. Most likely, these sports fans won't punch you, but they might. If they do: Run. Or fight back. If you're a girl you can just show them your boobs and you're back in their good graces. It's up to you. Either way it will be one memorable night.**

You may read this and say: "Kate, why are you using other people for your own entertainment." Because drunk people want to be used. They want to be used by other drunk people for entertainment purposes. And that is beautiful. It is beautiful that we can all come together on a Friday or Saturday night (or a Tuesday afternoon) and let loose are inhibitions! It's a testament to human beings that we can be so comfortable with other people. Drunk. At bars.

**By the way, Phillies fans are the best fans ever. They just want to fight each other, vomit on the field, get tased for running onto the field, and drink a lot in the daytime.

I Hate Fox & Friends

I hate Fox & Friends. It is incredible how much I hate Fox & Friends. I don't think it's possible to hate anything as much as I hate Fox & Friends. Except, maybe Nazis. For Me it is 1. Nazis 2. Fox & Friends 3. Dave Matthews Band. I hate those things. But this is not about Dave Matthews Band or Nazis. This is about Fox & Friends.

For the last month twice a week I have been assigned to watch Fox & Friends for Gawker TV and each week I gain a new and unique reason to absolutely hate this show. I would like to begin by saying I don't hate Fox & Friends because it is a morning show on Fox News and, therefore, it is conservative. No. I hate Fox & Friends because they're boring.

This is the overall structure of Fox & Friends: Report vague worldwide stories: (Hurricane in the Phillipines. Chilean Miners. A policeman asleep on the job in Oklahoma. Five year-old girl says "How Being In Jail Is Like Being In Limbo") then they have a pow-wow about how liberals suck. Except, it's not an interesting pow-wow, it's usually that skeletor-looking blonde woman making a bitchy sounding claim and the old guy going"Gretchen, don't you think you're taking this a little too seriously?" to which she screeches at him "Noooooooo, Steve, this is DESTROYING America, DESTROYING it." and he then goes "Gretchen, calm down, it's just Stephen Colbert, he's just a comedian." and then the other guy chimes in "Yeah, Gretchen, seriously. Healthcare is destroying America not Stephen Colbert" and she screeches more ("NO NO NO NO NO NO NO") and then they cut to commercial. Even this description is exaggerating how entertaining this show is. Imagine what I just described in the least entertaining way possible and that is what this show is.

Then they talk about politics, which is the really sad part of this newscast, because it's usually segments like "Are Women The New Swing Vote?" where they try really, really, really hard to say women actually do relate to Sarah Palin or Christine O'Donnell. Except they have no proof of this, it's three obscure pundits like "Woman on Atlanta Public Access Early Morning Talk Show" talking about their opinions and maybe, maybe, a poll with no citation whatsoever to any real polltaker. Then they play a tenuous bass line on top of these segments which makes human beings' feel disoriented and discombobulated and probably hypnotizes cats.

So this goes on for an hour except they replace "Are Women The New Swing Vote?" with "Mexican Assassins Sent Into Arizona To Kill?" and sometimes they change the various vague world news pieces but mainly they just report on the same news over and over for FOUR hours. Replaying the same news bits and the same tenuous bass line and all the dumb pow-wows.

At least Glenn Beck squirts blood out of his eye and spouts utter nonsense for an hour on his show. At least Bill O'Reilly screams a lot at people on his show. I like that more than three hours of the most boring news around punctuated with forgettable hosts and "um ah so yeah it's not raining in Kansas today!"

Fuck You, Fox & Friends. Fuck you.

People Need To Stop Taking Social Media So Seriously

Wow! Look! You can comment on each other's pictures on the internet! How crazy! Tweets! Facebook! Blogs! Holy shit, another social networking device so I can tweet, facebook and blog at the same time! I don't understand what the big deal about social media is about.

Once I had to sit through an hour and a half lecture on the merits of social media and how to effectively social network. It was seriously a dude talking about how to make your tweets look nice for an hour and a half. AN HOUR AND A HALF. I'm never going to get that hour and a half of my life back. I could have been feeding the homeless. Or making money, I could be spending money. Hell, I could be doing anything and it would have been more stimulating than that hour and a half talking about how neat twitter is. Then I go to parties and bars and I ask what someone does and they say "Oh, I'm in social media." What does that even mean? Is twitter and facebook that much of a mystery that companies have to hire other people to do them for it. These self-proclaimed social media whiz kids. Is it really that much of an accomplishment that you are capable of using the internet? I'm sorry, not the internet, facebook. I think the internet has strayed from it's original purpose- illegally downloading and porn.

Let's talk about the internet for the second. I love the internet. The internet has saved me hundreds of thousands of dollars over the years by essentially replacing human beings. I can check the news, sports scores, research my Philosophy paper, get cliff notes, chat with my friends, watch TV but mainly the internet is important for one thing and one thing only. Looking at fucked up shit. Yep. Fucked up shit. I could spend five minutes looking at facebook at some viral marketing scheme the social media experts have cooked up or I can read a first person account of how a man had sex with a dolphin. Don't get up on your moral high horses and tell me you never once google image searched "weird boobs." That's what the internet is really about. When people ask me what I do for a living I'm going to say I'm an expert at looking at fucked up shit on the internet. Another great thing about the internet is that it is full of things that would normally cost money but are now free! Yippee! The internet is a great place and it could be greater if it wasn't burdened by all these social media sites. Let's talk about a few of them and how to make them better.

Foursquare- What the fuck kind of program is this? Why would I want to check in to every place I go? What do I get out of that? I don't care where other people go and why would people care where I go? Oh, Kate Shapiro's at CVS Pharmacy. How riveting. Bah. Then in order to create incentive you can be the mayor of a place. Guess what you get for being the mayor of a place? That's right. Nothing.

The way to improve Foursquare: The only way this can be good if people really start divulging personal details "Kate Shapiro was at Planned Parenthood." Ooh! What was Kate Shapiro doing at planned parenthood? Did she get an abortion? Does she have syphilis! I bet she has syphilis! That's the kind of social media I can appreciate, the kind that really infringes on your privacy. Bringing the fucked up-ness of the internet to social media.

Microsoft Tag: Why should I take a picture of a symbol with my phone, process it in an App, just so Best Buy can tell me I can save 10% on the Blu Ray release of the latest Kristin Bell movie. Just use English. This is marketing at it's absolute worst.

How to Improve Microsoft Tag: Take a picture of the symbol, show it to your friend, say "Hey! Look at this, you might save 10% on that new Kristin Bell movie." They're like "Sure!" and then a series of pictures flash by the screen so fast it hypnotizes your friend into doing whatever you say.

So, hey, next time you hand me your business card with the words "Social Media Expert" on them I'll hand it back to you and say "Go back to party planning and living off your parents, twenty-five year-old white hipster."

I'll Take Care of You, Lindsay Lohan

Dear Lindsay Lohan,

I want to start off this letter by saying that I am a HUGE fan. I absolutely love Mean Girls (Like that part when the Santa Claus hands out all those candy-canes and he says "Glenn Coco? FOUR FOR YOU, GLEN COCO! You go Glenn Coco." Brings the house down every time. I know you weren't in that scene but still.) I have followed your career since I was a wee little girl watching Parent Trap and thinking you were the Olsen Twins and just dyed your hair and drew on freckles. That's besides the point. The point is- I love you. I love your work. I think you're not unattractive. So. Lets talk.

When you grew up into the dainty lady you are today- you started going to bars and partying and I was like O.K. this is what any young girl who grew up in the Hollywood sphere would do, a little drinking here and there. Well, you took that and you ran with it, Lindsay. While a Tuesday night used to be having a few drinks with Paris Hilton and going home around 2ish. A Tuesday night turned into you passing out in some 40 year-old man named Chip's bathroom who may-or-may-not be paparazzi with a needle lodged somewhere between your wrist and elbow. So then I was like O.K. little weird but whatever. Then you got arrested and I was like "Oh, Lindsay what have you done to yourself?"

It's totally fine to shoot up heroin and snort coke simultaneously in some bathroom at a TGI Fridays. In fact it is a little impressive you are physically able to do that. However, it is quite a different situation to be in jail with all the normal folk for drugs. Normal people! Un-famous people! Come on, Lindsay, you need to pull yourself together. I mean not because you were ever a role-model for kids. That is just laughable. Even when you were young you were in a movie where you deceived your parents just because you thought it would be funny. Wanna know where your mom in that movie is now? Dead. Yep. Dead. Then, even after THAT, you got big boobs and wanted to show them to everyone. And then you did. So, all in all, I'm not telling you to pull yourself together because you were once upon a time a role model for young children. HAH. I'm doing it because you are intermingling with D-Listers.

Lindsay, you are not a D-Lister! You are an A-Lister! You don't need to be in the parking lot of a Costco lying in your own urine mumbling lines from Herbie Fully Loaded in a drug induced catatonic stupor. You need to be a movie star and maybe even a Scientologist. Huh? Huh?? Right? Doing coke the day you get out of jail is not going to do that. And it's not even that you did coke. That's whatever- who cares. It's just that every self-respecting drug addict knows that when you are in danger of failing a drug test you drink eight gallons of cran-apple juice to wash out your system. Didn't you go to high school, Lindsay? Oh. Wait. Right.

So, I've taken it upon myself to take you in as a charity project. I mean Dina Lohan is obviously an unfit parent and a little bit of a bitch- no offense, Lindsay, but she is. Also, you're a 24 year-old millionaire. Why is your mom even taking care of you? Shouldn't you pay someone for that? I won't even accept money! This is totally probono. Listen, Lindsay, I know how hard it is to be addicted to cocaine. I can lock you in a room with the Basketball Diaries playing over-and-over for 37 hours. I can bring you cucumber water you will soon vomit out of your nose on 4,000 count Egyptian sheets. I can be the one to hold your hair back as you vomit on those sheets! I'll make sure Ali doesn't try to steal your spotlight while you're gone by kidnapping her and dropping her off in the middle of Death Valley with nothing but a bottle of Vitamin Water and a hair pin. I'll be that source who tells US Weekly "You know I was worried about Lindsay, but now, not things are better." Okay, so I might take money for that and spend it on an eightball and a fifth of whiskey, but I will not do any of that around you. I will do it at least in the other room. OMG. This is going to be so much fun! I will take care of you, Lindsay. I will make you better! I will be your sailboat during the storm. Or something. I don't know- we'll hire someone to think of a better metaphor.

But, really I'm only doing this to serve my 300 hours of community service for my own DIY. See ya soon, LiLo!

10 Reasons Why My Taste In Music Is Better Than Yours

Based on my last.fm feed from the last seven days.

1. Pavement

I don't know if you've heard but Pavement sold out their shows at Central Park a year in advance in two minutes. Two minutes! Pavement is like hanging out with these dudes you really like but you're kind of sure are way too cool for you and for some reason they're hanging out with you anyway. They're so cool that even though they know this dichotomy exists they don't really care and spent the night drinkin some brewskis with you anyway. These are the dudes Billy Corgan cries himself asleep to every night. If that doesn't sell you, I don't know what will.

2. Sex Bob-omb

This is off the Scott Pilgrim vs. the World soundtrack. This is Michael Cera's fictional band in the movie. Before you laugh me off the blogosphere, hear me out. Beck wrote all the music for Michael Cera's fictional band. NOT MICHAEL CERA. ATTN NOT MICHAEL CERA. Beck is a musical genius. And a Scientologist. And we all know Scientology is the path of the righteous one. Summertime is a bitchin song.

See? Pretty bitchin' right? Beck is pretty cool.

3. Yo La Tengo

I love Yo La Tengo. They're one of my favorite bands. If there is anything I love it is elderly Jewish people playing killer guitar solos. However, the only reason this is on my most played this week is because the other night I fell asleep to my iPod the other night and it went into a loop for nine hours.

4. Justin Bieber

Ah, Justin Bieber. The apple of my eye. If I ever met Justin Bieber I would definitely buy him a pack of Cool Ranch Doritos. How does that sound Justin? Pretty wicked, am I right? How can you not love Justin Bieber? He is a complete sweetheart. He's just a sixteen year-old kid who loves junk food and is a lil' bit of a prankster. He also just happens to be incredibly famous. How is that his fault, huh? Leave Justin alone! Also, that "Runaway Love" song IS THE SHIT!!

5. Okkervil River

My favorite people from Austin. Great lyricists. Twangy tunes. Whatever. We all know there is only one thing I can say to convince you guys that this band is awesome: at Bonnaroo after the Okkervil River set Bruce Springsteen came up to lead singer Will Sheff and shook his hand. BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN SHOOK WILL SHEFF'S HAND! When Bruce Springsteen acknowledges you as a person it means you are worthwhile.

6. Arcade Fire

So, Arcade Fire has been around roughly for a decade. And they have not produced one bad song. Arcade Fire has produced three superb albums. Each one better than the last. The last of the Indie Star Champs. Wolf Parade has been around for five years and have made one excellent album and two shitty ones.

7. 8. 9. 10. Bon Iver, Conor Oberst, Elvis Perkins and Real Estate aren't actually bands I really like. It just came up from that night I fell asleep with the iPod running.

Some Notes:

If you say that you never listened to the Death Cab for Cutie album "Transatlantacism" you are lying. If anybody tells you they never listened to the Death Cab for Cutie album "Transatlantacism" they are lying. Everyone listened to that shit. I can go find your myspace from five years ago and show you where you posted their lyrics in a blog. For example, here is 15 Year old Kate Shapiro's Myspace Blog:

Jesus, I was so cool. What happened to me? I'm so lame now. Anyway, I'm not here to lament my backwards progress in personal growth, my point is- you listened to Death Cab for Cutie.

So last (but not least) Bruce Springsteen. Ah, Bruce. Bruce embodies everything I love about the world. America, rock music and the 4th of July. Bruce Springsteen wrote a song about the 4th of July. My favorite holiday of all time. How can you not like the Fourth of July? The entire holiday is dedicated to sitting by the pool/going to your lakehouse, day drinking, grilling and reckless waterskiing. Oh, yeah, AND SHOOTING GIANT BALLS OF FIRE INTO THE AIR! Those are pretty much every single one of my favorite activities. And Bruce Springsteen knows that. He doesn't need fancy-smancy effect equalizers to make awesome music. He just takes the spirit of everything everybody in the USA loves and makes kickass songs out of them. Man, I pledge allegiance to America and also to Bruce Springsteen.

I could go on for longer. All you need to know is everything I have just said here is substantiated by everyone from Kanye West to Tom Cruise.

How The Tea Party Can Update It's Image To Be Like Way Cooler

I was watching critically-acclaimed, most-boring-morning-show-ever Fox & Friends this morning when I came across a realization. Not a very original realization but a realization none the less. The Tea Party look like a bunch of idiots! They are so not in touch with my generation. Come on, The Tea Party has 3,632 twitter followers. Barack Obama has 5,474,656 followers. See the difference? Lame. I don’t look at anybody’s Twitter with less than 5,000 followers. The Tea Party look like a bunch of redneck hicks. Not hip at all! Totally lame! However. I then came across another realization- the Tea Party have a lot of money. Like, a lot. So, this is my pitch to the Tea Party on how they can reach a younger audience.

1. Website design. Man. This website is so boring.

Fiscal responsibility. Yawn. I don't know what that is? And you know what? I don't care. I'm sure it's real and important blah blah blah. Whatever. Barack Obama got elected because he said change 1,000 times. I understand change. Change is catchy and easy to read. Fiscal responsibility. Bo-ring. My mom pays my cell phone bill, okay?
New Proposed Website Design:

Look at that! Wow! I am so interested! That's what I'm talking about! This is the Kanye West website but I think it'd be perfect for the Tea Party website. First off, there's a video of Kanye West carrying an unconscious girl from a huge explosion. An explosion! Sweet! See, for the Tea Party website maybe it could be Glenn Beck carrying an unconscious girl from a big explosion? Yeah? Also, there is a link for me to listen to a Justin Bieber song. I. Love. Justin. Bieber. And so does the rest of young America! Have you considered having Justin Bieber write a song for the Tea Party. Maybe a song for the Tea Party about fiscal responsibility? Maybe I'd think fiscal responsibility was less boring if it was a Justin Bieber song. This website is something that my generation understands, and maybe we'd think the Tea Party was a little bit... cooler if they emulated it.

2. Spokespeople

Okay. Do you really expect me to identify with this guy? Do you see what he's wearing?? Why would that man steal the American Flag from my lawn and drape it around his body. What is with the yellow and white baseball hat? He sort of looks like someone who would set my cat on fire and then make it into a lamp. Don't ask me how he would do it he just would.
New Spokesperson:

That’s right. Spokespeople! A tag team spokesperson team. First we have Justin Bieber, singer of the hugely popular fiscal responsibility song. Then we have, rap superstar- Drake. Drake can help bring in the black vote- which really, you’re lacking. If there’s one thing that my generation has taught the world. It’s that young black people are much, much cooler than old, white people. And old white people make up 100% of the Tea Party. Just think of the campaign Drake can start: “Last Name- Party, First name- Tea!” We could extend it into an LP. The Tea Party Mix Tape. It’d be huge. Huge! So throw out Glenn Beck/Sarah Palin and bring in Bieber/Drake.

That’s just a few of the ideas in my 3,556 page proposal on how to update the Tea party’s image to reach a younger audience. So, Tea Party, it’s time to hire me. Their Twitter followers would skyrocket. The Tea Party will explode all over pop culture just like Jersey Shore (some product placement, guys?). So, e-mail me at katemshapiro@gmail.com. My going rate is 10,000 dollars an hour.

Why Can't Hipsters Just Love Me Like I Love Them?

Today at the Pavement concert I learned something about myself and I'm not very pleased about it. I don't fit in with hipsters. They just plain don't like me. And it doesn't make sense because we have all the same things in common! We like the same things. We hate the same things. We're both ironic. I am so ironic! I just don't understand why they won't accept me. I want to be right there with them when they talk about "how totally lame" it was when Jenny Lewis covered Minor Threat. One hipster said to another "It's like Sesame Street covering Black Flag." Hahahaha! Why can't I be there with you laughing. Why can't I talk about which Pavement album is my favorite? I can talk about it. I can talk to you about Russian literature. It will be awesome. I just want to be popular and well-liked and apparently this is the way to do it. Please accept me into your cadre. We can all join hands and look down on everyone together. I understand that you hipsters have standards and there is no such thing as a free lunch so I'll give you a couple of reasons to let me in.

1. My music taste is just like yours! Like identical. Look! I have proof!

Look at that! That's so hip. It's unbearably hip. It's topped with Yo La Tengo who are three middle aged Jews playing rock music. If that's not hip I don't know what is. You know who would be proud of this chart? Pitchfork. From my exhausting study on the Hipster I know that Pitchfork Media is somewhat of a demigod to the hipster. It is like the Bible. The Koran. It is hipster lore that Michael Stipe wrote the very first post before ascending to the Heavens from the Dome of the Rock.

(If you looked at the artists this week then... Look, I can explain. My preference for Justin Bieber is almost ironic. It's almost there. I only genuinely like him a little bit. Okay, like 50%. Okay. 75%. You got me. But, listen, I have a contingency plan if this Justin Bieber love is ever found out and it goes as so- I'll just lie about it. My research has told me that it is cool for hipsters to have "issues" and for one of those "issues" to be a "sociopath" and "sociopaths" are "pathological liars." That can be my thing! It's like the next best thing to having "Asperger's Syndrome." I can lie a lot! Like so much that it's endearing! It's the problem that humanizes me. It puts me on the same level with everyone around me. I can be a self-tormented pathologically lying artist. I'll be like Kurt Cobain, it'll be awesome.)

2. I own things from American Apparel. I own things from vintage stores. I own many pairs of leggings. I own plaid. I own shirts and jackets in dark blues and greens. I own Cowboy boots. I own these things. You know what I do when I wear them? I go sit in bookstores that AREN'T Barnes and Noble and drink free trade coffee and read anarchist literature. What do you think about that, assholes? Yeah. I said assholes. Wanna know why? Because I stand up for my beliefs. My super important beliefs. Like net neutrality! And cops! I have opinions! They're super free trade. (PLEASE LIKE ME.)

3. I come from a upper middle class Jewish family but I don't like to talk about it. Yeah, man. Who wants to talk about money? Money is evil. If it was my choice I wouldn't have a cell phone because I don't want to be dependent on technology. But unfortunately the times call for one. So I do. It's an iPhone.

4. I know! An iPhone! Just like you! We can play Words with Friends. It'll be awesome. But, like, don't get the wrong idea- I don't like talking about material things. I'm more into existentialism. If it wasn't for the constraints of society I would be on a farm right now reading Thoreau, growing my own grapefruit and not giving a shit. Not that I'm a vegan. I'm not. Ew. Hippies. Am I right? I love dead animals and beer. I'm getting a deer head for my room. It's ironic.

5. I'm white.

So, there you have it. I think I would be a great addition to your hipster group of friends. There isn't much to not like. So, invite me to your next hipster event. I'll bring the PBR. Ha. Ha. PLEASE ACCEPT ME.

On Glenn Beck

We all know the hour between five and six on Fox is just Glenn Beck standing there saying "anti-government" a lot and try to defend himself ("The Liberals say this is all a conspiracy theory!" , "They say anti-government is a conspiracy theory because they're misinformed." , "I PROMISE YOU THIS IS NOT A CONSPIRACY THEORY.") or using the word czar way too much ("Barack Obama's diversity czar" , "New anti-free speech government czar"). But there's so much more to Glenn Beck.

Firstly, GLENN BECK IS TRYING TO BUY YOUR DEAD GRANDMA'S GOLD NECKLACE!!!!!!!

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Beck - Not So Mellow Gold
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor Tea Party

Every single commercial break has one commercial for Goldline. Glenn Beck wants my gold and he wants it now. He is hungry for my gold. He is hungry for your gold. He will exhume your dead grandmother's coffin and pry her jewelry off her cold dead fingers. The question is? Why does Glenn Beck want our gold? I have wondered this since that cold, dark morning some fifteen years ago when Glenn Beck robbed my mother at gunpoint for her wristwatch (Her cries of "No Glenn, it's not real gold! It's from CVS! IT'S FROM CVS!!!!!!" fell on deaf ears.) until the answer appeared to me quite suddenly... on Facebook.

He needs funding for his modeling career:












































What!!?!??? I don't see Glenn Beck using puppets to smear communists, liberals, socialists, etc. I see glamor shots. Lots and lots of glamor shots. So, just know when you invest in goldline you're investing in Glenn Beck's modeling career.

2. Glenn Beck just wants in Sarah Palin's pants. You know he sports a raging boner for her. You know where Glenn Beck is right now? He is sitting in a darkened Gainsville, Florida motel room watching a bootleg copy of famous Sarah Palin look alike Lisa Ann in popular porno Nailin' Palin.

3. Speaking of Nailin' Palin. Glenn Beck and Sarah Palin are having a rally in Anchorage, Alaska on September 11th. You know what they're charging? Between 65 and 115 dollars a pop. Hell Yeah! That's the true American thing to do, Glenn, cash in on 9/11.

So, all in all, Glenn Beck's motives are not what he seems. He doesn't want to promote a fiscally-conservative, socio-political movement throught the nation. He doesn't want to deport your Mexican neighbor. He doesn't want to eliminate all gun laws. He doesn't want to downsize government. He doesn't want to erradicate stimulus plans. He doesn't want to reduce personal income tax. He doesn't want to make the rich richer. He doesn't want to make abortion illegal. He just wants to model.

10 Reasons To Be Drunk All The Time

Ever have that alcoholic friend you take pity on. Well. Don't. Because he's living the life and you're the stodgy old fool! Your drunk friend can be rich! He can be carefree! Everything is funny to your drunk friend. They don't care about passing out in a public park with no clothes on. Why? Because how can you feel remorse when you're drunk all the time.





10. You know how you get really drunk and you wake up the next morning and realizea you communicated all your hope, fears, insecurities and issues with other people? Usually you're like, "Dude, that was a bad idea! Why did I do that?" Well, the reason you do that is because you're not properly communicating your feelings while you're sober. And that is unhealthy. So, if you're drunk all the time you're communicating to other people! You're connecting with the rest of the human race! Good for you! Pat yourself on the back, it's good to be open with other people.

9. You stop noticing people are bad dancers. Most people are bad dancers, admit it. Have you ever walked into a club sober and went "Why are these people smashing against one another to shitty remixes of Lady GaGa songs?" Well, if you're drunk all the time- everyone is a veritable Julianne Hough (that is seriously the only dancer I could think of) and that Lady GaGa remix is off the chain, yo! Suddenly you have all the moves and so does everyone around you. Go wild!

8. Nothing is awkward anymore. That party you only know one person- totally fine. Going to your office's holiday party? Walk in the park. Calling your ex-girlfriend and yelling at her? An even better idea! You can be totally nonsensical! Who cares! You sure don't.

7. Getting out of things. Going to jury duty? When you're drunk? I don't think so. Operating machinery? That's out of the question. Putting folders in alphabetical order! Ha! Nobody who's doing something productive in the world wants anything to do with you when you're drunk all the time. So, quit your job, forget about calling your mom and start collecting that unemployment!

6. Good excuse to vomit wherever you please (or on whoever you please). When you're drunk enough people expect you to vomit. It's just a fact of life. Ever wanted to end a friendship but they just won't take a hint? Vomit on them! Or on their possesions! They probably won't punch you in the face because you're drunk and you can't help it. Most importantly, they'll definitely stop calling you to hang out.

5. Getting famous. Lots of drunk people get famous just for being drunk all the time. Why do you think Jersey Shore is such a sensation? Why does Johnny Knoxville have so much money? It's not because they're talented and charming, that's for sure. They're drunk all the time and they do stupid shit- and everybody wants to watch it on TV. Not only that, but if you get famous for being drunk all the time you also usually get free alcohol. Score!

4. You'll be really popular! Everyone loves a good party! If you're drunk all the time you'll be going to a lot of parties/bars. Socializing, flirting, etc. You'll be a magnet for the rest of the population that's drunk all the time. Maybe you can form a gang and be drunk all the time together. Nobody wants to be lonely.

3. Good excuse for bad behavior. Every town has the town drunk. Usually, people just talk a lot of shit to them but for the most part- let them do whatever they want. A conversation with someone who is drunk all the time with a respected neighborly type goes as such.
Rev. Jim Bob: Oh hey, [your name here] it's a nice night out tonight, isn't it?
You: A nice night to GET LAID. (Maybe you sway a little bit, stumble, drool a little. Usually followed by awkward silence. There are going to be a lot of awkward silences in this exchange.)
Rev. Jim Bob: Don't you have anybody expecting you, [your name here]?
You: No. (This is when they start feeling pity- which in your case, is a good thing.)
Rev. Jim Bob: You need someone to get ya home?
You: No! (Get a little beligerant, maybe take a few steps toward them? It'll scare them off.)
Rev. Jim Bob: Okay, well, listen [your name here] I gotta get home to my wife. She'll be expecting me right about now. You take care of yourself. I'll see you in Church Sunday?
You: (Always say yes, they'll always think you're trying to redeem yourself of your many sins.) Sure thing, Rev.
See! Rev Jim Bob let you do what you wanted to! He offered to help, but he didn't really want to. Nobody really wants to deal with drunk people- unless they want to sleep with them. Which most people don't! So, just steer clear of cops and you can do whatever! You just have to have a thick skin about it because there is no doubt Jim Bob went home to talk about how you're a menace to society.

2. Selective memory. Recently, I read about a Polish man taking an MRI and finding a bullet lodged in his skull. He had no idea he even got shot because he was drunk at the time and totally forgot! You can get shot with a bullet and not even remember it! Who wants to remember getting shot in the head? Nobody. You dogdged that bullet! Well, kinda.

1. Absolutely everybody is good looking. Get prepared to have a lot of sex because your standards went from a seven to a zero. How would you like to live in a world where everyone is incredibly good looking? You can. If you're drunk all the time.

CUT IT OUT, GOOGLE.

Yeah! I'm talking to you, you self-proclaimed "not evil" multi-billion dollar corporation! I've had enough of your bullshit for one lifetime and it's only been like ten years or something. If I don't get to sleep with your founders through some long con operation (I'll sleep with Mark Zuckerberg instead thank you very much.) then nothing is worth this.

I know that Google can kill me if they felt like it. They have all my searches and all my blogs-posted logged onto a computer in Northern California and I know they have the resources to kill me if they wanted to. Google could kill you if they wanted to as well. Becuase Google has a lot of money and even more influence. But that's not what I want to talk about today.

I would like to preface with the reasons I'm okay with Google. Yes, I use Google's products. Just like Russians in Stalinist Era USSR would buy party approved bread. Out of what's out there (not much) it's the best there is. I would also like to talk about my love/hate relationship with Google Maps. Yes, I hate it when people can see where I live- but I also love seeing where they live. So, these things- Gmail, Google Voice and Google Maps. They're whatever- but we're here to talk about something else. That Google is an evil corporation that wants to exhume your grandmothers body and sell her priceless ruby ring in order to buy the internet.

That's right, people, network neutrality. Do you not know what that is? Well, join the club. From what I gather from Wikipedia and the signs of pathetic looking protesters at Google's evil lair- Network Neutrality is when you can surf the internet and everything comes at you at the same speed. Every website is on the same playing field whether that be Amazon or my Uncle Steve's website on the history of the VCR. This sounds pretty cool, right? Equality for everyone, blah blah blah- it's super American. Opponents of network neutrality want to dissolve all that and begin charging people more to see certain websites faster. For example, Uncle Steve's VCR website would run slower than Amazon because Amazon pays more money to your internet provider. And, your internet provider is charging you more money. Basically, it's evil corporations making the internet into an oligarchy run by Google, Amazon, etc. It also eliminates any sort of equality of the press situation. It wouldn't be fair if the Huffington Post loaded faster than Fox News, now would it? Same with the converse.

So, it doesn't make a lot of sense.

Lets think of it this way- you know how Freakazoid was the protector of the internet and made sure all internet villains weren't off reeking havoc/bumming everyone out? Well, Google and Verizon want the FCC to execute Freakazoid. This is a very, very cursory explanation of network neutrality and I suggest doing some research on your own because it's a lot of complicated computer jargon. I wouldn't be surprised if it's this complicated to trick the general public.

Google and Verizon just signed a pact to pretty much take down network neutrality. They want to split the internet into two seperate networks: wireless and landline and THEN impose different rules on them which basically means they can block whatever sites they see fit. It's pretty much against Google's entire "Don't be evil" credo.

I want the internet to be an equal place where all my rants can be followed by whomever at the same speed as Amazon loads. I don't want to be charged extra for every little thing and I don't want Google telling me what I can and can't look at. The internet is fine the way it is- it doesn't need a couple douchey billionaires policing it. So, please, Google, cut it out- you make enough money already without fucking with the entirety of the internet.

This is not something I know much about, admittedly, but it is something that really worries me. And it should worry you too, three person readership. So, go sign some internet petition somewhere- but make sure it's legit, it could really be an anti Ground Zero Mosque petition in disguise, which would make you a douche. Even worse, it could be the government! Oh no! You hate putting your name on government lists? Me too! It could be the Census! No! So, make sure it's for network neutrality and do your best to make sure you don't have to pay more outrageous internet fees than you have to.

How Blink-182 Made Me The Person I Am Today

True story. You were twelve once too. You listened to Blink-182. The question is- did you know that by listening to Blink-182 you were about to change your life forever? Probably not. On the outside Blink-182 looks like two immature dudes who know about three chords on the guitar, one weirdly enough kinda awesome drummer, and a bunch of poop jokes- but on the inside, they're really wise, wise men with incredible insight. If I hadn't listened to Blink-182 I wouldn't have formed healthy habits as an adult and simply descended into madness. To prove my point I am going to embark on a close reading of some Blink-182 lyrics.

1. "The Party Song" is the sordid tale of a bro who goes to a party and it's super lame. There are keg stands (lame), dudes with no game (lame), ugly girls (lame!) and a ska band (really, really lame). The young man regrets his choice to go to this party, he then falls to his knees and cries out to the heavens:

"I wish I would have stayed
In my bed back at home watching TV alone
Where I'd put on some porn or have sex on the phone
Far from people I hate down from anywhere state
Trying to intoxicate girls to give them head after the party"

But then he sees a young woman from across the party. This young woman is beautiful, she has long blonde hair, green eyes and no underwear which at the time (1999) was the epitome of class and elegance. The young man was drawn to her. He approaches her and engages her in small talk. At first everything is great, maybe they would hold hands and watch the sunrise (because that's obviously what this young man was planning) but then- in a sudden realization shone down on him like a beam of sunlight from an angel- this girl was lame too!:

"She wasn't wearing underwear at least I prayed that
She might be the one, maybe we'd have some fun
Maybe we'd watch the sun rise
But that night I learned some girls try too hard."

The young man's depiction of the sunrise depicts his hopes of the future but his knowledge that inevitably the sunrise would end which is a metaphor that we're all going to die. But that's besides the point- the point is that this girl "tried to hard." What does that mean, you ask? Well, I'll leave that one to our old pals Blink-182 to tell you.

I couldn't believe what this lady was saying
The names she was dropping, the games she was playing
She dated this guy who now rides for Black Flys
How she's down with the 'wise well-constructed disguise'
Now I'd rather go dateless than stay here and hate this
Her volume of makeup her fake tits were tasteless

I don't know who the "Black Flys" are. I don't think they exist but are a clever pseduanym for particularly douchey rock group, The Black Crowes. To emphasize just how douchey this band is I will include this picture as evidence:
You see? Douchey. So now our hero is stuck talking with this classless, self-absorbed wench at a lame party. You know what's the worst thing about this woman? Not her classlessness, it's the fact that she deceived him. She deceived him. He thought she was going to be an intriguing, beautiful young woman- but she was just a liar, cheat and tasteless. She "tried to hard" as it was. So what does he do? Nothing. He listens to her talk and simply meditates on all this. He learns from this experience, he grows from it. He becomes a new man. He knows his tale is a cautionary one so he spreads the word to the young masses so they don't become victims of girls who try too hard as well.

How did I learn from this and countless other Blink-182 songs. I learned not to go to parties and say I slept with members of The Black Crowes. That is a secret I will take with me to my grave. I, as a woman, leanred not to "try too hard." This song teaches proper party ettiquete. Without hearing this song, I may have gone to a party and come off as a trashy whore. But instead, I come off as awesome. Blink-182 is also a friend when you have none. Popular tune "Damnit" is a beautiful haven when you have none during painful break-ups. "A New Hope" and "Happy Holidays, You Bastard" provide me with laughs and incredible joy. I am never alone with Blink-182. Thank you, Blink-182, thank you so much- you made me into the person I am today.

NYU: Loving the Machine

I'm about to enter my Junior year at NYU. Seeing as my undergraduate education is half over, I have accumulated a few (not many) thoughts on my esteemed university. Almost every student at NYU realizes they're going to what is basically a McDonalds under the guise of a well thought-of university. Sometimes it feels like NYU cares more about about they're inevitable dastardly takeover of every building south of 14th Street or taking your 50 thousand dollars. Sometimes, it feels like it's not about academia, it's just about purchasing the entirety of Governors Island- not that I'm complaining, we have to put the Engineering students somewhere and it's definitely not going to be in downtown Manhattan. Think of our cool level! It would plummet! And basically, that's what NYU is all about- cool level.

1. One great thing about NYU is the lack of hippie douchebags.*** Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if I had gone to an Amherst, or a Binghamton (omg Brett Easton Ellis = total alumni), or a Reed, or a ClarkU. A place where a bunch of people read important books and discuss them in a circle at some idyllic field under a sycamore tree quoting Balzac and Faulkner. That sounds kind of awesome though, right? Wrong. If I had to listen to some self-important asshole talk about how Hemingway changed their life I would have to punch them in the face. And think of how many people would do that! Everyone. I can't just go around punching everyone in the face all the time! There is something about hippie douchebags and loving these middle-aged white men ramble on about how drunk they are and how pathetic their lives are. Whatever, motherfucker. "Oh wow even though I have a bitchen' house and lots of money, life sucks because I can't bang this one chick boohoo" (The Great Gatsby) "Dude, Neal Cassidy isn't that much cooler than me. I'm cool too! Look, he's cheating on his wife! Not cool, right! Dude. I wanna bang her now. I mean that's not that bad, right. I mean, right?" (Every Jack Kerouac book ever.) "I am sooooOoOOOOOOooOoooOOOO drubk, how did I get here and why is this turban wrapped around my head omgggggzzzzz" (Bukowski) It just gets old. What about all the African literature, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie is the shit! Or Haruki Murakami- also the shit! Or Malcolm Gladwell, nonfiction is cool too! Lets not relegate our lives to the cadre of ruling drunk white men. Oh, I can appreciate Faulkner, Bukowski, Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Kerouac, David Foster Wallace, etc etc the list goes on forever. In fact, some of those drunk white dudes wrote my favorite books. I definitely think that those men changed American literature for years to come. I understand that, I respect that, but that doesn't change that I don't give a shit about how many drugs Jack Kerouac was on.

2. There are benefits of belonging to an institution that owns half of lower Manhattan and the greatest of which is this one- nap spots. NYU has a plethora of awesome nap spots. Almost every single building has a lobby with dozens of comfortable couches. In the summer they're air-conditioned, in the winter they're heated (the buildings, not the couches, THOUGH I WISH.) and at all hours of the day you can curl up for the best nap of your life. And it will be the best nap of your life. Have you ever fallen asleep while everyone else is doing important academic work? If you haven't, you should, it's the most rewarding feeling you may ever feel in an NYU building. I would like to add it's really easy to steal from the dining halls. Like, ridiculously easy. So when you lie down on that ridiculously nice sofa with a nice Diet Pepsi and a Crumbs cupcake, you can know you've taken .00005 % of your tuition back.

3. Sometimes the machine is good. Yes. I said it. But hear me out. NYU is a corporate machine that churns out the money-grabbers of tomorrow. This is true. Tisch is not about being better at your specific brand of art- it's about learning how to make money off it. You know what? I like money. I like it a lot. I don't mind being churned into someone with the ability to make money doing something I actually like. It's much better than being churned into a dude who, yes, knows everything about Proust, but also lives on some dude's roof, drinking 40s and writing really shitty poetry. It's also much better than being this dude I know named Azel who just blows ketamine all day and talks about the bougiosie and the rise of the working class as if he's an actual member of the proletariat. Dear Azel, you have to have a job to be a member of the proletariat.






So, as you can see, the machine isn't always bad. Sometimes it provides nice couches and free food. There will always be a level of bullshit. That's a given. But, hey, at least you're cool. So, all in all: sometimes, my friends, just sometimes there is such thing as a free lunch.

***I would like to omit the Kanbar Institute of Film and Television from the list of NYU schools without hippie douchebags. That department is full of douchebags. If you want further proof I'll send you some guy's personal essay I had to read in freshman english about how Quinten Tarantino changed this dude's world.

Give George W Bush a Break Already

I found some alarming pictures as I browsed Google Images today. I was sitting at home, watching 90210 today, when I suddenly thought: Where is George W Bush now? Then that led to a thought process of, I wonder how much that guy aged in the eight years he was president. I mean, obviously eight years, but how much does he look like he's aged? Being criticized and made fun of constantly for a solid eight years takes it's toll. So you take that, coupled with the fact that he doesn't drink, if we all do the math, W has aged well over 1,000 years in the past 10 years.

George Bush has spent almost eight years of his life being ridiculed. While I am all for making money and afterward rolling in ze dough, I have trouble accepting Bushism books, books solely made up of stupid things George W Bush said one time. The guy isn't the sharpest tool in the tool box but it's not like we've never had a stupid president before. A recent poll stated that 51% of Americans (i.e undecided voters on the generic national ballot) think that the state of the economy is George W Bush's fault. 27% think it's Obama's fault. This is probably the most irrelevant poll ever taken. Was this poll taken by Obama's mother before handing it to him and saying "See, Barack! People like you! They really like you!" The fact that manpower and time was devoted to making this poll baffles me. You want to know why, because believe it or not, W's not president anymore. So stop talking about it!

George W Bush doesn't eat kittens! He doesn't! That's the worst thing you could possibly say about somebody. Kittens are cute, goddamnit. Don't use them as fodder for your political agendas. W wasn't a great president. We're in a stupid war (which Obama hasn't gotten us out. You may remember he said he would and hasn't yet.) We're in an even worse recession and don't get me started on the Patriot Act or the "there are nuclear warheads in Iraq" fiasco. It wasn't a stellar eight years for America. But to blame one person for all of that, I'm pretty sure that's called not accepting responsibility. So dear America, whether you be merely a registered voter or a congresman- find a new scapegoat already. It's been two years. Even if it is his fault, (it's probably Dick Cheney's but nowadays his heart doesn't beat without an iPod strapped to it, so you don't have to worry about him doing anything particularly diabolical this week.) it's over. Done. Woulda, shoulda, coulda. So, in the only piece of political writing I will ever do that doesn't have to do with Spencer Pratt has to do with this: Get over it, America. It sucked. It's over. It's just like when Bob Dylan was Christian and doing a lot of gospel music. He's not anymore. George W isn't president. So, please, let's get back to fixing things and doing less complaining.

Also. In case you wondered. This is what W is doing right now:
That's right. In Haiti, giving money to Haitians. Givin' aid and relief and whatnot to Earthquake ravaged Haiti. They have no infrastructure there anymore, you might have heard? And you know who he's with? With Bill Clinton. Who is the most awesome of the presidents. So, that kind of cancels out W's suckage. For now at least.

Deepwater Horizon: England's Boston Tea Party

For people who have been under a rock for the past few months or, more likely, don't care about any news that doesn't have anything to do with Lindsay Lohan (She's sober!) or Mel Gibson (He's not.) The oil well, Deepwater Horizon, exploded in the Gulf of Mexico in April. Consequently, millions upon millions gallons of oil leaked into the ocean. I know what your first reaction is, "The middle of the ocean? Who cares." but I have gained super-secret insider information. The owner of said oil well none other than British Petroleum (BP) and do you know what that means? Yep. They want America back. Well, guess what, you redcoat douchebags, you can't have it.

It's well known that the British never really got over the Revolutionary War. I mean, they discovered America. They named all the cities. New York? Well, old York is in England- and since old York is in England then New York belongs to them. It's only logical. At first everything was great. The Indians weren't a problem anymore which meant corn and tobacco for everyone. Corn, a new-fangled 1600s fad on par with modern day Ugg boots and those stupid Livestrong bracelets, was sweeping the globe. British was raking in the dough and doing some mad taxation without representation. The Colonies were a cash cow and everything was awesome.
Until a couple American assholes decided they wanted rights and drafted a Decleration of Independence. Boring. Lame. Stupid. The British army would just crush them, right? Wrong. America got France to help them and finally the British army in the colonies was done away with. France. You always think they're on your side until they aren't anymore.

It's still whatever. British comes back for Round 2: The War of 1812, but it turns out that not only was the British Army crushed AGAIN but the stupid Americans wrote a stupid national anthem that- in so many words- called the British a bunch of sissies. So, Britian retreated back to Europe (where they belong) and recited poetry or whatever they were do over there, biding their time until 2010.

So, the stage is set, it's April 2010. It's been roughly two hundred years since the British were humiliated in the War of 1812. Mostly everyone has forgotten about it. Now the British and the Americans get along fairly well, whenever there's an American war the British will help out- for a little bit at least. Everything is going swimmingly, right? Yeah. That's what America thinks.

BP, a dummy corporation created by five British loyalists who yearn for a return of the old Empire, makes it's move. BP oil well, Deepwater Horizon, explodes due to a "a geyser of seawater erupted from th marine riser onto the rig, shooting 240 ft (73 m) into the air. This was soon followed by the eruption of a slushy combination of mud, methane gas, and water. The gas component of the slushy material quickly transitioned into a fully gaseous state and then ignited into a series of explosions and then a firestorm." A geyser of seawater? Nice explanation, BP, you really expect us to believe that? This is obviously an attack on America. You put your oil well in OUR gulf, off OUR shore, and then it explodes? Sounds awfully fishy, British Petroleum. If that's your real name.

You may say, "Why would BP want to do this, they're losing hundreds of billions of dollars by exploding this oil well." Well, hundreds of millions of dollars is a small price to pay for dignity. You may also say, which you have said again and again in the past "It's in the middle of the ocean!"

The middle of the ocean, huh, let me remind you of something that America did to England back in 1773. America dumped 342 chests of tea into the "middle of the ocean." You may remember from US History class that this event was called the Boston Tea Party, and that it was executed because of the high tea tax England imposed on America. Well, this is England's Boston Tea Party. To England, tea is like gold. Tea is like petroleum. Tea is sacrosanct, it's above holy water in the holy scale of liquids. The minute those chests hit that harbor, it was all out war for the rest of time. Yeah, it's been a while, England, but this is truly a clever attack.

Question? How does the blue-collar American worker fill up his Ford F-150 every morning to go to work at the hog farm/factory/etc? That's right, oil. You know where 643 quadrillion gallons of that oil is. The shores of Galveston. Covering a sea turtle. Destroying the marsh lands. Making it, like, really hard to swim on the coast of Alabama. Lowering property values along the Florida shore. This is all out war here, the British want revenge for making them look like sissies and destroying their tea. They are hungry for someone's head on a spike atop the Deepwater Horizon. Who's head will that be? The metaphorical head of this beautiful beast we call America? Barack Obama has been stern with the mega corporation but he doesn't understand the true danger we Americans are really in. We have to fight back! Yes, the British plugged the leak, but it took them ninety days. Ninety days to figure out "Hey maybe if we plug this hole it will stop leaking. Good idea, bros!" Yeah, sounds like a clever ruse to me. They want to look innocent, they want to fight this war covertly. They want to grow in leaps and bounds before they can claim what was once theirs. 61 billion dollars means nothing next to a new, reimagined Empire. The British are back, and they're ready to tango.

Help fight this terrible, terrible country who is %100 ready to bum everyone out.

Do Not Legalize Weed: Get A Real Cause

Because then it will be more boring? Because the government fucks everything up? Because if cigarettes are 11 dollars a pack in NYC, how much do you think weed will cost? That is just the tip of the Don't-Legalize-Weed iceberg. You've heard all the reasons we should legalize weed- usually spouted to you by a pantless, grungy hippie on St. Marks Pl. Those reasons usually start with "Dude, it's good for you!" or "Cops, bro." Perhaps you've seen on a college campus/University of Phoenix website forum/etc. an organization called "Students for Sensible Drug Policy." Well, students, you're wasting your time.

1. How do you expect me to smoke weed when it's legal? You realize how boring it is doing things you're allowed to do? How many people would Molotov Cocktail a building if it was just allowed? Not many, because what's the point? If people could go cocktailing buildings left and right the message of cocktailing a building would be lost. Plus, everything would be on fire and we Americans don't want to be like Russia. Part of the allure of marijuana is that it's a taboo. If you don't have to hop in some sketchy 1993 Nissan Altima to get a dime bag then you don't deserve a dimebag at all.

2. I live in New York City and am constantly surrounded by smokers. If anybody ever wants to bum a cigarette people on the street either A.) ignore you B.) say no in a particularly bitchy fashion or C.) Ask you for money. Want to know why this is? Because cigarettes are eleven dollars a pack. If regular tobacco- grade A rat poison filled tobacco- is eleven dollars a pack how much do you think those fancy-smancy weed cigarettes would be? Real fucking expensive that's how much. By the way, Marlboro, 420 brand? You are soOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo clever, Marlboro. Right now, because marijuana is dealt in the black market where it can't be outrageously taxed by the government (and that's the only thing that would make legalized marijuana possible, the ability to outrageously tax it.) it ranges from dirt cheap (West Coast, any place with a border to Mexico) to relatively inexpensive (New York City, East Coast, etc.) and that is a status quo that should remain in place.

3. Cops. Little known fact about cops. When you break the law and then they catch you, they're going to arrest you. It's their job. They get paid to do that. So, you there with the possession case looming over your head, it's not because the cop is an asshole- it's because you're a dumbass. So, how about instead of lobbying for legalization and thinning your wallets as well as your dignity- maybe you should think about not smoking weed in that high school parking lot at 10:45 in the morning. Just go home. Please.

4. Want to know something? There is other vitally important shit in the world. Crackheads are dying on the streets. AIDS is a pandemic. 130,000 people lost their jobs in the month of July 2010. Russia is on fire. Women are getting stoned to death in Iran after receiving an unfair trial. Eight people a day die in Cape Town, South Africa. Lindsay Lohan went to prison for thirteen days. Pakistan is basically underwater with floods affecting 14 million people. Romania is printing anti-Semitic currency. If we want to even talk about drugs, the Rockefeller Laws can put a person in prison for thirty years for being caught with a tiny amount of heroin just once. All this shit is going on all over the world and all you can care about is whether you can smoke a joint on the street in peace or picking up your favorite Marlboro 420s. Spare me.

Don't get me wrong, marijuana is harmless. I don't mind it. Go ahead, call up your weed delivery service, go home and talk about how the police force on cops are like "total dickwads." I'll join you. But, how about we talk about something else for once?