“According to his new biography, Wolverine has been, at various times, a Canadian cowboy, a ninja, a private eye, a secret agent, a bootlegger, a mercenary, a bodyguard, a caveman, a victim of the Holocaust, a Vietnam vet, a World War II vet, a corrupt cop, and a lumberjack. Also, he was raised by wolves; he was raised by native Canadians; he is the reincarnation of a warrior from a race of humanoid dog people; he was at Hiroshima when the bomb fell, and all his girlfriends died (11 to date). Oh, and he’s saddled with five children. (One died in utero, one is an evil clone.)”—Wolverine is ridiculous. - Slate
“Private eye C—- Stryker takes on more than he bargained for when a beautiful dame walks into his office. The search for her missing husband, an archaeology professor, sees Stryker crossing continents through the most inhospitable terrain, dogged by sinister agents who seem determined to stop him at all costs.”—
“[T.S.] Eliot also explores the entrapment caused by specifics and actualities, which obscure the ideal and authentic.”
This was not a case of bullshitting. Each one of these words carry specific literary currency and I got a phatty A on this paper. My writing is forever deformed because of academia. Abstract and flowery shit clutters every first draft I write.
I submit that Carles’ greatest achievement is not his ability to dissect and lampoon current memes, but his ability to recall nuggets of pop cultural ephemera so deeply embedded in my psyche.
Peppering his prose with these embarrassingly dated signifiers communicates that in a decade, all that we now consider relevant and “fashion-forward” will be as meaningful as frosted tips and performance fleece.
Combs have been on the scene ever since humans had hair on his head. which is quite sometime? the date perhaps goes beyond the time of the old stone age. man being man and not a lion would not be content to let his mane run wild and free. so he had to find some ways to tame it. first on the list of combing operations must have been the use of fingers. so in a way the fingers are the first combs of history. today, combs are universal and no corner of the globe is without it.
I just returned from a trip that required driving straight south for thirteen hours. I half expected Virgil to appear in my passenger seat and guide me through the ever-worsening environment, but it wasn’t so bad. As I drove deeper and deeper south, I noticed a growing number of ornaments stuck near the side of the road.
They were roadside deathcrosses, and they litter the highways, state routes, and cul-de-sacs of the world, marking where some sucker was destroyed, and I, not knowing the person or the circumstance, couldn’t care less. If a tombstone in a cemetery is like a book in the library, then the roadside deathcross is the blog of remembrance-they are everywhere, they are unavoidable, and they are left by forgettable, stupid people in forgettable, stupid places.
An effective way to convince fundamentalists that the legalization of gay marriage is a good thing is to appeal to their fear of big government.
Early Judaic and Christian marriage was a contract, or property exchange, between two individuals or families. Why should the government butt in and have anything to do with it? Why do I have to pay $40 for a marriage certificate?
In other words:
A government that holds the power to prevent two people from marrying is also powerful enough to take away your guns.
The unembarrassing fact is that, technically, I think Switchfoot is an enjoyable band, but I’ve always been distracted by the haziness. They’re like a Christian take on the Morrissey formula in which he endlessly alludes to but never exposits the fact that he’s gay — as if he is getting one over on us, as if there is a serious Morrissey fan that exists who would deny his homosexuality.