Thursday, June 30, 2011

What Happens When the Laughter Dies? (or something)

What happens when a piece of parody outlasts the thing it was meant to parody? Does it exist in a cultural (and some would even say, spiritual) void, where it represents nothing and has no meaning, because the meaning originally ascribed to it has withered away and, by its very nature, no new meaning can grow in its place? Does it show itself, because it lasted longer than the thing it originally parodied, to have greater meaning than originally thought, a core of significance unrecognized when it was first created? Or does it explode?

I don't know the answers to these questions, because I am merely a blogger who is trying to create a smart-sounding reason to post an absolutely ass-mazing (that is "asinine" + "amazing") Primus video from 1995.



(To jog your memory/ if you were born after 1989, these are the commercials this video is parodying:



I learned this morning both that the family in these ads are called "the Puttermans," and that the commercials were directed by Barry Sonnenfeld)

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

I am sure I would kind of make a face about this if I read it on someone else's blog (the same way I am still making faces about that time Zooey Deschanel went on "Top Chef" like nine years ago and said she was allergic to all foods with calories or whatever), but I joined a CSA this year, and, holy shit, I just cannot get enough of their fucking wild lettuce. I will just eat a big bowl of that shit straight every single day. I am craving the fuck out of it right now! It is insane! I am someone who, in the past, has only ever craved foods with the word "krispy" in their names, so this is kind of a health breakthrough for me. Don't worry, I didn't sell out completely, I still eat total garbage constantly, but this was just so unlike any food experience I've ever had, I am kind of flipping out. I know this news is not interesting to anyone else, but you know, if you want news items instead of fevered odes to wild lettuce, go listen to NPR.

I know everyone self-googles constantly, except I don't, because I know there's never anything new there, because not only is my name more common than you'd expect, but also like nothing I have written in like the past two years ever seems to come up on a general google search on my name, like, ever.

But every few months, I have one of these things where I'm like "Am I missing out on something here? Is everyone getting a huge great thing out of self-googling and I'm totally missing it because I don't 'get' it? IS THIS THE ARCADE FIRE ALL OVER AGAIN?" and I self-google, with disappointing results. It also helps to have something really pressing to do, something really important where putting it off means total disaster, so of course you have to come up with something really insane to procrastinate with after you've alphabetized your forks or whatever.

Today was just such a perfect storm, and I engaged in the typical lackluster self-googling. But because I had just seen the trailer for that "Another Earth" movie, which is all about having an exact double on another planet, and also because I wanted to avoid another necessary activity THAT BADLY, I just read the entirety of one of my googleganger's wedding registry.

"What might alternate reality me like, in a wedding registry?" I thought. "She has a wedding registry, so there's a difference right off the bat. But perhaps, scrolling through this stranger's wedding registry, you will see something and it will be a weird filament that will connect you, a glimmer of something that only you recognize unites you."

But I guess that was the heat stroke, because her wedding registry looked exactly like every other wedding registry on the planet (shiny polished silver things). Hell, even my college best friend's wedding registry looked like that, and she and I have a lot more in common than me and an absolute stranger with whom I share a name. I mean, I guess we live in households with salad spinners now, but that wasn't the mystical connection I was hoping for.

And that is how I decided to spend an hour of my life that I'll never get back. And then I decided to spend the next hour watching True Blood. On a related note, does anyone know of a place where I could set up a registry where I could list all the shiny silver things I want in the world, and people could buy them for me when they're feeling flush with cash/ looking to beg my forgiveness/ looking to spend money before the end of the fiscal year? I'm asking for a friend.