WORST NEWS IMAGINABLE

The day of doom has arrived: FOX DECIDED TO CANCEL ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT. I'm pretty speechless right now that by far-absolutely no question about it-the funniest and most creatively written, produced, and acted show on television is being plucked from its nest in the infancy of its prime.

As stated in the article, "The two back-to-back episodes averaged a paltry 4 million viewers Monday". 4 million pop-culture-drenched, television-addicted, short-attention-span-plagued people in this entire world sat down and watched this show on Monday. 4 million.
I've tried on many occasions to care whatsoever about the bullshit aired elsewhere on television. I've tried hard to get excited about reality shows to join their cult followings and make Tuesday night more exciting. I've attempted to become attached to other television shows and it just hasn't happened. I guess I'm boring but I can't fool myself into caring about those shows whatsoever, even given the surrounding social context.

But Arrested Development is different. Arrested Development is about the content; it's about the show itself and that's what's beautiful. It's about shaking your head one moment at the utter absurdity and brilliance of a sketch and rolling over on the couch in laughter the next. it's about heaving a pleasurable sigh while the credits roll and knowing those 22 minutes made your day. it's about Buster getting his damn hand bit off by a seal, okay.

Look, Fox is a business and they need to make money. If nobody's watching, then sponsors don't want to pay for commercial time. They resurrected this show from the dead once, and I thank them for that. All i know is that the people who are fans of this show are obsessive because they realize that trite bullshit is shelved for a half-hour each week, replaced by innovation, creativity and utter brilliance. Although I'm not thrilled with Fox and really think a continued investment in this show could pay off huge, my real antipathy finds it target in the general television-watching-populace that supports inanity over art.

I'm pissed.

"There is a possibility that the show will be shopped around, but its high cost is expected to be prohibitive for a cable network." Let's make it happen.

Brilliant!

Once in awhile, a commercial comes around that’s so cool it hurts. You know, the kind where you gaze at the screen on the verge of tears because you didn’t have any part in its creation. I would rank this Guinness commercial among that rare breed (those from Kansas might disagree). I thought the Ice Age was especially sweet.

A conversation

Blog: Phil, this is embarrassing. Your entries lately are less substantive than Harriet Miers and about as consistent as your jump-shot.

Phil: Yeah, well I’ve been traveling a bit lately without a computer and feel kinda enervated as far as writing.

Blog: Look, I’ve got an image to uphold here and if you’re gonna be the one dressing me I’ll be damned if you’re shopping at JC Penney’s. I’m talking Vera Wang and you’re giving Sketchers...this isn’t gonna work.

Phil: I don’t get it.

Blog: You wouldn’t.

Phil: Man, maybe I should just throw in the towel here.

Blog: I know I didn't hear that.

Phil’s Imagination: Wait! This blog is acting as a conduit, reversing roles and allowing my adoring readers to speak to me this time. What’s that?....Uh huh!....Of course! They’re telling me my words are like the first waft of coffee’s sweet aroma on a dull, grey morning; they’re telling me what’s typed on this page builds mountains, cures diseases, and mobilizes armies; they’re saying utter bedlam threatens should my voice not quell the upsurging masses with words of enlightenment and direction. By God, I must write! I must! If only to save civilization as we now know it….

Blog: Did you say something?

Phil: Nah. Look, I’ll come up with something, alright?

Blog: Hurry up.

Phil: Shut up.

Blog: You shut up.

[Stay tuned for the next installment…]

Dance of the dead

Since I don't seem to have anything more interesting to offer lately besides entertaining/nauseating little video clips, here's another choice selection to help you celebrate Halloween in style. This guy's really pretty good.

Funny things from older sisters

It's not you, it's the one that told you

you're a comic. somebody has handed you the skeletal structure of a joke. your mission is simple: conjure up the crassest, cruelest, most disturbing thoughts rotting in the miasmic sludge of your overworked, rat-infested brain and multiply them exponentially. now, take that vile, bison-carcass plaster and splatter it all over the skeleton. cackle maniacally as you mold your hideous frankenstein with each barbaric impropriety.

we all love him. warts-oh so many warts-and all.

now you have an idea of what to expect from The Aristocrats...over and over again. scores of the funniest comics alive tackle this challenge and contribute their commentary in this recently released film. the barrage of words alone could rattle even the most impervious ears. those bold enough to transfer words into visions, however, might leave the theatre with a persistent tick and a newfound Tourrette's compusion in their speech. either way, you'll laugh really hard for the 90 preceding minutes. when you see it (and you should), you might speak of catharsis, evolving social mores, or the philosophy of comedy. I'd be happy to listen. but more importantly, i want to hear whether you found it funny, and if not, why we have different senses of humor.

Laugh until you stop laughing

Some things are funny in this world. This is one of them. Scroll down and press play..."oh look, an eagle".

the joys of humidity

So two people walked up to my cubicle this morning and told me outright that I look tired. What the hell! Although my week/month/life has been moderately insane lately, nothing of catastrophic import happened in the last day or two (although I did miss the Ted Leo show at the 9:30 Club…you can read my buddy Jake’s take on the show here) that might render me a tattered and torn person. Not that I really care if people at work think I look tired-I’ve been known to sport the same shirt two, maybe three times in a five day work week…hence,I don’t have much of an image to maintain-but I found it odd that two different people said the same unusual thing, completely unsolicited (a conspiracy, perhaps?).
Curiosity piqued, I stole away to my favorite bathroom, slightly off the beaten track, where many a crossword puzzle has fallen victim to my lack of concentration on work-oriented tasks. The visage facing me in the mirror made that kid in The Ring look like Winnie the Pooh. It wasn’t that I looked tired (atleast in my unbiased opinion), it was that I had bangs! Oh god, memories of my sister’s seventh grade picture came flooding back and pangs of forgotten buckteeth assaulted my senses. They were so perfect too, as though I’d developed an uncanny proficiency with the curling iron after years of dedicated study.
So is it the bangs that made me look tired? I’m thinking so. I’m guessing the first think people think about when they see bangs is a strung out rocker chick in a def leppard video. They did tend to look tired. But they looked damn good in their strung out glory. So although nobody appended the “…but you look good” to their “Phil, you look tired”, I’m pretty sure they were thinking it. I do cut a striking figure in neon pink.

On another note, it’s funny to watch congressmen (and an occasional congresswoman) play baseball. I hope they had plenty of medical personnel available, because I think the arms might leave the sockets before the ball leaves the hand.

Finally, I don't think I have a sizeable cadre of tech savvy bloggers reading my blog, but if anybody knows how to work with the blogger comments coding, please let me know. i've been trying to make my comment section organized in threads for awhile, but i can't figure out how to access the html. Any ideas?

Secrets revealed:

Sometimes i feel boring, so I spice it up by visiting this site.
And if that doesn't cut it, I just follow the link on that same page to the really not-so-funny dirty jokes...there should be laws against wasting a promising dirty joke. But to relieve any lingering dejection, I remind myself that this didn't happen and proceed to perform tribal dances of exultation.