horrible bad no-good tv

I feel disappointed in myself that writing didn't return my call after we got back together and went out on a few dates. I wondered if I did something wrong. Then I realize writing isn't a guy I'm trying to get to fall for me, and it's not something that's only possible when the mood and the moon is right (maybe). I didn't fart in bed. I didn't insult his mother. Writing, it's a thing I do when I'm not too lazy or busy and have some things on my mind. Sometimes they're important things, sometimes not. Today, not.

Today I want to vent about the utter stupidity of television. I will attempt to balance the brainless and transparent campaigns to take my money, self-esteem, or patience with the shows that actually make us think or teach something. I will try not to get distracted by the neighbor kid whose eyes are way too far apart trying to ride his bike while holding his dog (which looks like the Grinch's dog, sadly) as his fatter-than-believably-possible toddler brother totters about on his fat little feet.

My most loathed commercials are those that incorporate an unnecessary amount of sexuality.
Exhibit A (this commercial makes me uncomfortable)


What is the message here, that if you drink this shit you can bang your slutty secretary all the way through your lunch break as your wife's picture falls off your desk? I don't mean to sound sanctimonious, I'm just insulted. This is way worse than the Arby's commercial where the wife dresses up like the Arby's girl and serves her hubby in bed as the phallic Arby's hat pops up over his head. That's giggle-worthy, but the 6 Hr one is just in poor taste.

This is way better:


Kenyans.

If you start feeling sucked in my media subterfuge, may I suggest visiting listverse.com. Read about inventors killed by their inventions, coolest transformers, evil children, and the like.

What the hell, Charmin?

What the hell, Charmin? Am I supposed to think a post-shit bear would be wiping his entire bear ass and getting bits of TP stuck to it? And am I supposed to worry about this happening to me and hence buy Charmin to avoid this embarrassing situation? Gah. Just horrible and ineffective. These commercials make me physically uncomfortable.

The Shit List, part III

I've been keeping busy and feeling pretty good lately--I have a lot to be thankful for. Nevertheless, I believe it's time for the third installment of.....The Shit List.

1) Mr. Subway Artist in the Dobie Mall--sir, I am truly sorry that you're pushing fifty and have to wait on UT kids all damn day, I really am. But if you don't want to know what kind of bread I want, don't ask--don't roll your eyes at me and sigh. I said MAYO not TOMATO, but I didn't give you attitude, and I said thank you like five times. Listen, dude--it could be worse. The only non-starving artist is the sandwich artist. Take some pride in your job. You make a good sandwich. Just lose the attitude, I got my own shit to deal with.

2) The strange lady in the Chevron parking lot who asked me if I could give her a ride right quick--I don't know you, and I don't feel like getting stabbed today. The bus'll take you anywhere you wanna go, my dear. I appreciate that you won't "be weird"--you certainly won't be in my car. Move it along.

3) The Room Store--you evil fuckers. If I was lying in bed with my husband and a clown walked past the door with no explanation other than "we gotta pay for this bed somehow," I'd be more than pissed. There'd be some what-the-fucks being yelled. Don't try and scare me into buying your shit so that I don't have to take in clown boarders. Not gonna work.

4) My older brother. Quit calling me. We're not buddies.

5) Johnny Fairplay. You are full of douchebaggery. Because TV was so horrible tonight I caught part of Survivor: Fans vs. Favorites. Whose favorite are you? I don't even watch the show and I know you're an ass. Danny Bonaduce is no prize either, but you had this coming:




6) People who post 3 line bulletins just to let you know how they're feeling. Mmhmm. Bugs you too, doesn't it?

7) Jake, buddy, you know I love you, but when you threw up in my room yesterday, I felt like Cruella DeVille. No more eating cat product, please. And you're lucky Momma's coming home tonight, or you'd be sleeping outside.

Sign, sign, everywhere a sign. blockin out the scenery, breakin my mind.

I am having a hard time reading Faigley's website, because it's a website. Too much textbooky type stuff to read and scroll through on a screen, although the pictures are nice. As portable as laptops are, I cannot underline things, flip to see how many pages I have left to read, or jot notes in the margin. It's interesting stuff, but it's not getting through to me as clearly as a neatly stapled packet. Anyone else? I guess the materiality does matter...

Speaking of which, the internet is apparently at risk of being clean-slated. See the newest link to your right for more details. I wonder if this is a step forward in the Digital Age or a step back. We evolve all the time. Just this morning I found this website, so who needs TV, really?

Ahead of its time:

Art in its various forms has been weighing heavily on my mind lately, between frequent discussions of Grindhouse, watching Entourage, trying to re-form my poetry habit, somehow getting signed up for the four posters-a-month club, and just trying to express myself in a way that is both effective and stylistically me. I wish I could paint or draw or do something artistic, although writing is definitely an art form as well, and I can make decent things out of clay...I'm working on a video for my final project about art in the form of graffiti. It's interesting to me because it's the only writing I can think of (besides slander I guess) that's automatically a crime. Berger's quote about the loss of authority over art that came with the means of reproduction reminded me of graffiti: "For the first time ever, images of art have become ephemeral, ubiquitous, insubstantial, available, valueless, free. They surround us in the same way as a language surrounds us. They have entered the mainstream of life over which they no longer, in themselves, have power." Aside from wanna-be gangsta tagging, the words themselves along with the surface they were painted, etched, or carved on create a meaning that's bigger and stronger than most textbooks I read. The message is short and powerful, sometimes incorrectly spelled, but contextualized in life. We all live the context, and I found that most of the messages in graffiti (found on this website and taken from all over the world) dealt with themes of love, politics, religion, the economy, etc...

non-sequitur:

In addition, Literacy in American Lives contains a chapter about the nature of early writing as secretive, rebellious. I think about notes passed back in forth in class, from my own schooldays. I once wrote the naughtiest words I knew on a chalkboard in the church basement (I don't know exactly why), knowing they'd be discovered and I'd probably go to hell for it.

I was excited to see that Faigley included information about Adbusters, I've used that site in conjunction with teaching a media awareness unit with high school kids. Other than the nonstop stupidity charade that is our current governmental regime, the hyper-consumerism of this country makes me itchy in unmentionable places. I always thought I could do well in advertising but never pursued it for the same reason I'm not a smarmy lawyer (not that all lawyers are bad, some of my best friends are lawyers): I don't think it's right to intentionally manipulate people and words, and people/words are obviously easily manipulated. Here's a few more pictures they didn't include:

I'll give you a moment to find your brain-sanitizer and acknowledge that reality is not as fun as the high-gloss air-brushed world we are continually fed.

Given what Siegel's article says about multimodality transformations and literacy, it makes sense that this is where we're at: we're a bunch of sign-reading mofos.