2001-08-09 - 10:12 p.m.
My hand hurts like a bitch, and I can't understand why.
Oh, I think we can explain why, Ken.
No, my LEFT hand hurts, Ken. I'm right-handed. Get your mind out of the gutter.
Sure...So, how's life been treating you the last few days, Ken?
Not bad. Last night, I watched Unbreakable for the first time. That movie kicks ass. It's immediately found a new home in my top 10.
You didn't mind that, since the movie was a comic book, you were able to spot the villian immediately, due to your years of being a fan-boy and your almost god-like, encyclopedic knowledge of the art?
Nope, in fact, that helped the movie to be even cooler. It's like, if someone had an idea for a comic, a good comic, one that could appeal to most of America (at least the thinking bit. The only cross-section that matters), developed it like a comic, then, at the last second, turned it into a movie. You'd have Unbreakable. Great film.
Why do you love comics so much, Ken? It's almost a sick obsession.
Well, Ken, you see, in the entire span of my life, many things have made me happy. However, of all the things that have made me happy, all but comic books have also broken my heart or made me terrible sad.
Really? What about wrestling?
Broke my heart on Monday night, when I heard that one character's really cool theme by Rage Against the Machine had been replaced by that dumb-ass song by Drowning Pool. (God, I HATE Drowning Pool. The word "Suck" doesn't begin to describe how bad they suck.)
What about Star Wars?
Broke my heart when Episode I came out, sucked, and the sheer amount of merchandising and lack of a DVD release of the original trilogy made me realize that George Lucas is just another money-hungry, drunk on power megalomaniac milking his cash cow for all it's worth. I'm going to pretend the only Star Wars in existence is the original trilogy and leave it at that.
Women?
Never made me happy.
Oh, I hope for your sake that was a joke, Ken. What about books?
Reading makes me deliriously happy. It also breaks my heart when I see more people intersted in the Harry Potter movie than the books, or the latest Danielle Steel piece of crap, or Oprah's Garbage-Book-Of-The-Month club at the top of the bestseller list, and every kid buying "Left Behind for Kids," meanwhile, C.S. Lewis and Lawrence Block sit on the shelves, gathering dust.
It also pisses me off when people walk out of the bookstore without buying anything. What kind of human being can walk out of a bookstore empty-handed? (I can understand if you have no money, but otherwise....) What, is there nothing you don't already know? Learned it all, already? Or do you just consider anything you don't know to not be worth knowing? Come on, there's got to be something that can hold your interest for a few hours. You do have an attention span.
(Interesting aside, I read a study in a new book on health and diet that I'll discuss in a bit, but one part went in depth in the process used to creat "white bread" A study found that white bread preservatives BHA, BHT, and calcium propionate, when removed from the diets of so-called "hyperactive" children, they cease to be hyperactive, almost immediately. Imagine the hell out of that. Or, better yet, we'll ignore that tidbit and keep drugging them with other chemicals so both the pharmacy and the wonder-bread folks make money.)
So I take it your job doesn't make you happy, either?
Nope. I've decided that working to make some jerk-off who owns all the Bookworlds even richer is something I can live without. The hell with it. I'm now officially the world's worst employee. I avoid actually doing my job whenever possible. The only way I can get worse is to be rude to customers. But it's not their fault my job sucks, they have their own sucky jobs to worry about. So I try not to take it out on them, unless they treat the place like a F***ing reference library and never buy anything.
What about performance?
Heartbreak springs from the fact that I know I suck and therefore my time actually on-stage is limited to college plays. After that, I'll get jack.
Your friends?
I've learned that having opinions that differ slightly from those of your "friends" makes you a Bad Person. No word yet on what judging people and not having a sense of humor or even being able to recognize a joke makes you, though.
I would imagine a self-righteous prick. But that's neither here nor there. Music?
Drowning Pool.
Oh, yeah. I can understand how they could sour anyone on music. Movies?
Starship Troopers. Batman and Robin. The fact that Leonardo DiCaprio actually gets starring roles in movies. If that doesn't break your heart, or at least make you angry, you're not really human.
Yeah. Or you could just be too poor to afford movies. Like, say if you live in a third world country or something.
Granted, but if you know who Leo is, his very existence should be enough to make you angry. Marlon Brando must be rolling over in his grave.
Dude, he's not dead yet.
Yeah, but in this instance, I imagine he would dig himself a grave, then throw himself into it, just so he could roll over in it.
Wow. That's a lot of digging, though. Aren't there bad comics, though?
Oh, hell yeah. TOns of them. But bad comics are like Ed Wood movies. They're still really entertaining, and kind of a sick addicition. I buy New Universe comics by the box.
That's pretty sick, Ken. Course, I will admit, very few things in this world are more satisfying than a good comic.
The only things that spring to mind are the love of a good woman, and punching people in the head when they have it coming.
Being a chode is fun, too. Remember that time last week when you and Wej bought 40's at the liquor store?
Yeah. Man, why didn't anyone ever tell me malt liquor is so bad? It's terrible. And it's so freakin' much. 40 ounces? I had to struggle to finish the damn thing. If only someone had warned me. Just once, instead of threatening to kill me and calling me "Cracker," if one of the homies I went to high school with had just turned to another one and said, "Man, these 40's taste liks ass, essa. Why do we drink this shit?"
"Cause it's cheap, yo." "Oh. Hey, Cracker! Gonna kill you, white-boy!"
That's all I ask.
Still, for only $2, and a guaranteed drunken buzz, you really can't complain.
True. Oh, wait, I just did. Egocentrism rules.
Black silk boxers make you feel really sexy.
Too bad you're not sexy, Ken.
yeah, but I feel that way, and that's all that matters. Plus, the cool think about silk boxers is they make you feel like you're not wearing anything at all.
And we're done with the cottage cheese. Thanks, Ken.
I live to serve.
Tomorrow- An interesting study on obesity and sexuality. Plus, Ken figures out the secret of the arts! I was gonna type it here, but my hand is really hurting now.
Peace out, yo.
Ken
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