17 January 2006

You like those cowboys, don't you?

Larry David on Brokeback Mountain:

I just know if I saw that movie, the voice inside my head that delights in torturing me would have a field day. "You like those cowboys, don't you? They're kind of cute. Go ahead, admit it, they're cute. You can't fool me, gay man. Go ahead, stop fighting it. You're gay! You're gay!"

Tom encouraged me to check out Bill O'Reilly on David Letterman. This is great to watch because it illustrates a fine point I was trying to make to my friend Neal last night. I don't know why Mr. O'Reilly takes so much pleasure in being an ass. I think he thinks the reason people don't like him is because of what he believes. This makes clear that it's just because he's an ass. Christians have this problem a lot too. If you shout the truth (whatever THAT is) at people and then enjoy the backlash in this sort of silly, pious way, you managed to prove that most people don't like assholes. I also like how Letterman tells him that he's just trying to scare people by quoting this list of issues about the "war on Christmas." It just proves that some people are hypersensative and doing stupid things. It doesn't prove that there is a "war" on Christmas.

Now, to be fair, Michael Moore fits into this category too. It's hard to complain about fat, rich, white men when, you know, you're one.

Nick Negicorte writes:


GROTTO TO SEBASTIAN

Resilient one, Namesake of my father’s mother, Patron of archers, Patron of recovery, against the plague against suffering—or the strength to eat it, you needed two deaths finally to reach Him whose love took, in your heart, from a whisper.

Patron of spreading fire to wet branches, confessor of martyrs, counselor of soldiers—.

Patron of faith answered with arrows.  Patron of the Lost Cause. 

Sealing pain in with swaddling, so blood pounds the joints into motion, then no more.  Patron of lifting her head.  Patron of tranquilizers.  Patron of being locked in her room.  Of blue eyes with no ancestry.  Being so beautiful once.  Of asking for just another hour. And another hour in her room but without me.

Our bodies floating in the sewer, and the one who finds us.  Being nursed back.  The Lost Cause.  Forgiving your friend-executioner.  70 times 7 faith answered with fists. Taking a beating once and for all.  Dying, listen to me:  for every arrow I have a prayer.  Whom do I seek?

Lastly, Yoko celebrated her "19th" birthday with me, this banana, and a shitty piece of cake I bought. For every arrow I have a prayer:

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