I will now sum up the movie: Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End in one paragraph:

Some pirates go to China and have a BATTLE, then Jack acts weird and flips the ship over and now they're in the sea or some shit, then more Chinamen pirates appear and Chow Yun-fat dies and Keira Knigthley is now a captain. Then some pirates meet and a pirate gets shot and the priates make Keira a king. Then Davy Jones and some British guy talk about shit. SILLINESS HAPPENS. Jack and Barbossa exchange Jack for Orlando Bloom. Shit happens ta da da now we're sailing. Some ships are there. THE BAD GUYS have a lot of ships apparently. The colored witch-pirate turns 50 feet tall, then she gets mad and a STORM happens. MORE SILLINESS. Davy Jones fights and then he yells and then something happens. BATTLING AROUND THE WORLD IN A STORM. Da da da the British guy's ship is blown up. Something something Keira Knightley is on a beach the end.

Congratulations, you now understand the movie a lot more than I think anyone involved in it ever did.

G.W. Bosh: THIS IS YOUR LIFE!

So GWB gave one last final speech, his farewell address, on Thursday. It had all the pride of a baby staring at you after you snatched his lollipop and then lusciously licked it away. He was clearly bombed before he stepped up to the podium and he couldn't wait to get out of there after shouting what amounted to "BUT... BUT... BUT... 9/11!" at Americans for 15 minutes.

Why didn't he do it in the Oval Office, you ask? I answer: more people could clap at him from where he gave the address.

It's understood that his presidency is a failure, reduced to the yuks pile along with U.S. Grant's and Zachary Taylor's. But he could have gone out much stronger than he did. Here are some things Bush should have done instead of his lackluster speech, because goshdarnit, he's still the President and, by GOD, a Republican!

Show up in blackface

Recent polls indicate that Americans now prefer black presidents. In fact, the next president will be, as one reporter termed, a "chocolate face." Bush could have capitalized on this by showing up in blackface, perhaps with some Jheri Curl.

Imagine the coup he would've scored if he came out and declared that he was, in fact, the first acutally black president, thus stealing all the historical relevance behind Obama's presidency (aside from the historical collapse of the US that Obama gets to preside over). Flanked by T-Pain and LL Cool J, he would've made up for his lack of foreign policy cred with some street cred. If he employed a pitch correcter, it would've been icing on the cake.

Gotten high(er)

Rumor has it that Bush has recently been hitting the bottle again. If that's so, that's not enough. The final week of your presidential career is like the final week of any career: you're basically coasting. It should've been even easier for Bush because he's clearly been coasting since around 2002 or so.

So at this point, why settle for just drinking? We already know he was into some hard shit, so lighting up a few buds or licking a few stickers shouldn't have been a problem. At the very least, he'd be having fun imagining Dick Cheney as being an actual human being, something that can only be imagined with the most powerful psychedelic drugs. Plus really, who doesn't like a pothead just shooting the shit? I know I like one!

Laughed for 15 minutes

The presidency is a very stressful job. It can take its toll on even the heartiest of souls. And Bush has endured a great deal of flack over the years. Is he not entitled to some merriment?

If I were him, I would have seriously considered going into the Oval Office (it's more comfortable there), looked straight into the camera, and just started chuckling for 15 minutes. You might consider this stupid or insensitive given the amount of suffering in the world. But if there's one thing laughter is, it's contagious. Imagine what 15 minutes of Bush laughing at the world could accomplish. He could've ended the Israel-Palestine conflict, for instance, by having everyone embrace the absurdity of it all. This was a golden opportunity, wasted.

Crash-landed a jet in the Potomac

Anothe thing Americans approve of is heroics with aircraft. In fact, Barack Obama recently piloted a plane safely into the Hudson River recently. Imagine the accolades Bush could have received by pulling off a similar feat.

It would be especially easy for him as he's an actual pilot. He can even pilot airplanes while intoxicated, so crash-landing a plane in a cold body of water with hundreds of lives at stake should be something he'd be used to. He could've used it to completely redo the Mission Accomplished fiasco, as well, and this time do what he should have done the first time around: emerge from the jet with an electric guitar and play the theme to "Top Gun" while a camera pans 360 degrees around him.

Caused another 9/11

Let's face it: Bush was never as great as when he was standing on that rubble with that old, confused fireman and said those famous words: "When do I get to leave? This place is boring!" It may have been a difficult proposition, but inflicting massive casualties and then pretending it was an awesome thing is not something entirely alien to Bush.

It's true that there aren't as many psychologically iconic targets left to blow up. There is the Sears Tower, but that is in Chicago and Chicago is kinda out of the way. On the other hand, they do have good pizza. There is also the Space Needle but I have a feeling that most Seattleans would actually welcome its destruction. Then there are the still-standing landmarks of NYC like the Empire State Building and the Chrysler Building, but that's a move that strikes of a lack of creativity. I'm not sure audiences would go for a rehash at this time.

Whatever the location, doing so could've have potentially elevated Bush back up in the polls, perhaps as much as 60%. It would have been great for unifying the country, which segues nicely into Obama's bipartisanship. Most importantly, it would have gotten Bush back up over 50%, which is an important psychological indicator. And really, who doesn't like approving the president? All he really needs is to oversee another crisis and people will reward him for it.

Sadly, we will soon see the last of George Walker Bush, misunderstood genius and lover of hydroponics. He will return to Crawford a better man, and we a better country. Even if his departure was less than awesome, we can still tell Bush with all sincerity: this Bud's for you.

GODSPEED YOU BLACK PRESIDENT!

OH GOD, LOOK OUT BEHIND YOU!!!!! A MIRROR!!!

So I finished Dead Space, a surprisingly well-made game by EA. Dead Space is, if I understand correctly, considered a combination of the tiimeless classic Doom and the less timeless but nonetheless classic Resident Evil series. I can see the comparison, but really, putting Resident Evil in space is redundant. In terms of gameplay mechanics, Doom supplied at least 50% of the ideas to RE.

But enough of that shit. Dead Space tries to do what few games can: scare the shit out of you. So, aside from being a fun/competent game, does it do so?

The short answer: no. The long answer: sometimes, but no. Stop asking. You're creeping everyone the fuck out.

Like Ben Croshaw says, Dead Space is very good at startling you, although the effect wavers a bit towards the end. It is not, however, good at scaring you viscerally. But that is a challenge very few games are up to meeting.

The problem with trying to make a game scary is that most horror games employ cinematic tactics. Case in point: this game. The monsters are hideous and ugly, but they're not particularly frightening because they come from the pretty standard hyper-deformed humanoid type. Although some of the sounds they make are unsettling.

But unsettling is not scary. Centipedes are unsettling at first. Wet farts are unsettling. But unsettling, while better than nothing, doesn't really do anything to create real fear.

The game also has the (bad) habit of relying on musical cues to heighten tension. Sometimes it works, like when it ratchets the violins up whenever you approach a new hallway, but the game relies on them to inform of when a monster is nearby. That's a no-no. So when I hear the music going into HORROR MODE, I know that an ambush is taking place and that I can start getting to safety or whatever. It'd be a lot more startling if the monster simply grabbed me when I didn't know it was there.

More deeply, though, games are rarely "scary" in any sense. Even if they are about horrible topics, the problem with a game is that the player is given control, and therefore a measure of control over their fate. So dismembering the player may be unpleasant, but it's not scary because a) it's not real and b) the player does not feel helpless because he can simply try, try again.

Real fear, though, occurs when someone does not feel like they are in control. Movies can be scary because the viewer is forced to watch something unfold on screen and is helpless to do anything about it. So when you watch a nice scary nuclear war horror story, you have to sit there and endure whatever suffering is on screen and it sucks because it will never change. Ever. Unless the director's cut comes out.

But in any game, you don't have to just sit there and endure it, you can do something about it. So what if you get eaten by a giant sloth? Just don't fuck up next time. But who doesn't want to die being eaten by a giant sloth? Those motherfuckers are adorable!

A game can still be scary, however, as Metal Gear Solids II and III were at certain points, but they did so by rendering the player helpless in certain respects. It takes a very clever mind to pull off "scary" in a video game.

A game like Dead Space, survival horror set in THE FUTUR in space, is inevitably compared to the Dooms. Does it stack up? Of course the fuck not. But it's a better effort than most.



In terms of gameplay, Dead Space is competently done. The dismemberment gimmick is interesting at first, but it quickly loses its novelty once you realize that you're simply killing monsters by following a simple checklist. Let's see, first sever the legs, then :yawn: excuse me, then the arms. Okay, next?

If you're trying to make a survival horror game, the key is to ramp up the intensity. Doom was able to do this by constantly trapping the player and, at times, providing him precious little ammo to work with. Doom was never more intense when the player is forced to run around a map, not coming up with any ammo, and knowing that the few unexplored areas were crawling with monsters. And there you are with 40 bullets, 5 shells and 20 cells. Shit.

Dead Space has a few moments where this actually happens, especially in the beginning when you're a) not that tough at all and b) you haven't gotten the hang of the dismemberment thing yet. Dead Space is one of the few games ever made that actually forced me to run away from a fight in a panic because I was plum out of options. I give it credit for that.

But after a while, ammo scarcity ceases to be a problem, especially when you get the ripper. The gun, while having its drawbacks, is too efficient. It's impossible to run out of ammo with it unless you're a total spastic mongloid, making it too reliable and therefore making the game too "safe."

The other times where the game ramps up the intensity is in vacuum areas, where you have a limited amount of oxygen to work with and therefore have to race against time. I don't know about you, but any area that gives me a limited amount of air to work with is always unnerving, though probably because I hold my breath for some dumbass reason.

However, a good idea in theory is partially ruined in practice. While the gimmick itself works, it is lessened by the reality that suffocating can only be accomplished by the most retarded of gamers. Either the doorway that leads back into non-vacuum areas is safely close by, or there are oxygen stations put in the vacuum that allow you to fully replenish your O2 whenever you want. Nothing takes the piss out of a COUNTDOWN TO DOOM than being able to reset the timer pretty much whenever you want.

It'd have been better if the O2 stations only had a limited about of oxygen, because in most cases where they appear, they're actually helpful. But you can't coddle players like the way those damn O2 stations do.

While the game is entertaining and very well done aesthetically and technically, it does suffer noticably from a distinct lack of challenge towards the end. By that point, Isaac (the dawg you control) is so powerful that threats turn into annoyances. Sure, you may get killed every now and then, but you stop reaching the point where you can only get by certain areas by the skin of your teeth. You get so much ammo and health that you can afford to play sloppily with little inherent risk. A game should not reach a point like that, and unfortunately Dead Space does despite throwing some legitimately tough enemies at you.

There probably will never be another game that can capture the perfect mix of terror and fun that Doom had, although that view is probably colored by the fact that I was all of 10 when I first played it. Fuck yeah, son. But Dead Space is a solid effort that entertained me, so it was worth the cash.

I give the game 3 dead babies out of 4.

Well what happened? Your balls fall off?

You could pretty much tell the G-G-G-G-G-MEN were going to lose this game once you saw the Eagles take the Vikings, gently insert their collective penis into Tarvaris (Tavaris?) Jackson's anus, and then spin so fast that Jackson's body disintegrates in a slightly erotic attack. Thus was the fate of the G-G-G-G-G-MEN today at the hands of Donovan McNabb and his chunky soup.

Sure, it wasn't exactly a pasting on the scoreboard, but the good guys were never in control after the first drive and perhaps after that safety. They relied too heavily on shitty tactics and were thwarted by the inability to do the fucking basics (i.e., manage the wind, kick some fucking field goals gawsh, and of course, TACKLING!!!!).

Let's have a rundown of the people who shit the bed, then tried to clean it off by urinating on the shit and using the cat to wipe it up. Take it from someone who knows, folks. It does not work:

ELI :clap clap:

Eli is a hero to most. He's still a cool guy and a worker of miracles. But like Jesus, sometimes you just have to be crucified. Unfortunately, today was Good Friday, and Easter will be, I dunno, when Mark Teixeira personally assassinates Dustin Pedroia.

Let's play a quick mini-game. Which one is ELI and which one is Tavaris?

15-29 (52%), 169 yds (5.8 p/a), 2 INT
15-35 (43%), 164 yds (4.7 p/a), 1 INT

Yeah it doesn't matter don't it? Those are two shit performances turned in against the Iggles D, although Tavaris doesn't have the wind as an excuse.

Then again, neither does ELI. ELI plays eight games a season at the Meadowlands, including like four or five in November/December, so he should be more than used to the temperature and wind conditions. Yet he was baffled, continuously throwing turkeys and being unable to place the ball even remotely where it needed to be for his receivers. He was a liability, plain and simple. Oh well, at least ELI :clap clap: will live forever even if his watch doesn't.

Steve "Spags" Spagnuolo "Spags"

The defensive coordinator and soon to be Jets coach, Spags spent his bye week looking up New Jersey homes or some shit instead of figuring out how to stop the unstoppable power that is JASON AVANT.

The Giants defense was able to render Westbrook and Buckhalter mostly irrelevant, but they failed to contain DeSean "Tard Hands" Jackson and Kevin "Sufficiently White Enough to Appeal to Philadelphians" Curtis, the Twin Towers of people who should not be able to beat a team that ostensibly has a "good" defense.

Most of the time, when the Giants adequately rushed McNabb, he barfed and did something stupid, like the safety and his interceptions. When this didn't work, Spags went to the tried-and-true strategy of having everyone run around the backfield and politely escort the Iggles' receivers to the first-down marker.

NFL coordinators have a curious habit of changing strategies when they're working. They don't change it when the opposing team changes up, nosiree. They decide that shit's going too well that they might as well make shit interesting and start fucking around. Incidentally, this is the mindset that has guided the Mets to successive NL East crowns.

Signature moment for SPAGS: Last possession of the first half, the Iggles are deep in their own territory, so SPAGS decides to only rush three and have everyone else take a coffee break in the backfield. The result? An Eagles FG, accomplished in less than two minutes.

Prior to that, McNabb had defenders close to him at all times. Now he was free to have some soup, ponder his life choices, and dish off to anyone who was open.

I don't know if SPAGS thought that since there was less than two minutes to go, he could just take a chill pill and coast to halftime. I suppose that was an attitude that leaked over the team because the urgency the Giants showed at the outset of the game evaporated not long after.

John Carney, Kicker. Professional. Man of Faith. Role Model.

I know it's gauche to blame the kicker for being unable to accomplish shit when he has so little to do with the team's circumstances. But Carney was a weak link that should just not have been so weak.

Allegedly, Carney is a pro-bowler, which is like being named employee of the month. In reality, Carney made Laurence Tynes' exploits of last year look magnificent. Carney was perfect as long as the uprights were right in front of him. Beyond that, he was helpless, like a babe, and not the Tewksbury kind.

When your team is struggling, having a kicker being worthless just adds to the demoralization that the team goes through. The kicker is supposed to be a stoic-looking person, because he's mostly bored. He's like the DH. He sits on the bench playing solitaire or some shit until he's in the hole, and then he has to look busy. But then he has to actually hit the fucking ball, or in this case, kick the fucking ball.

Instead, Carney basically fucked around and didn't even look like he gave a shit when he missed. His misses contributed to a loss of six points, which would've made the final score 23-17. A big difference when you consider the dynamics of the game. Fuck, if he hit even one of those, the Giants could've maintained the pretense of being in the game. But that pretense was destroyed once he missed his kick in the second half. If your kicker, who is supposed to be godlike, can't manage (especially when the other side's decidedly not-so-godlike kicker is managing perfectly well), it basically signals that your team is shit.

Kevin Gilbride, the Bride of Frankenstein. No not really, she's dead.

A Brief word on Kevy Gilbride. Hi Kevin. It's me, your conscience. Hi, yes. Okay so like, how come Tony Romo knows how to do a QB sneak and Eli doesn't? The QB sneak is the simplest play in all of football (second easiest: naked bootleg bomb to the corner of the endzone, power-I OMAHA OMAHA OMAHA BLUE 14 SET HUT HUT HUT :calls time out:). All the QB has to do is take the ball, and then fall forward. Fall forward! Surely Eli can fall forward! Yet he couldnt't! Why is this so!!!! The use of exclamation points indicates my confusion!!

Also, Kevy. 4th and 2. You have to go for it. So what's the strategy? Ah ha! Send Jacobs up the middle.

Hey guess what, Kevy. The law of physics called to remind you that solid objects cannot pass through each other. I know JACOBS weighs 8,000 lbs and is made of cast iron, but what made you think he could run through a collective ton of humanity, for two yards? 4th and inches, okay. 4th and 2? No. Kevy Gilbride, you are a dumbass who slept through physics and health class. That's why you have crabs and you can't save drowning victims. YOU HAVE NO ONE TO BLAME BUT YOURSELF FOR THAT DIVER'S DEATH.

Well that was the season that was for the Giants. A one and done, the worst way for a season to end, because all it was was sound and fury, signifying nothing, spoken by an idiot, to bear the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, to stand to and to not stand to, OUT, OUT BRIEF CANDLE. Yes, brief candle. That was the G-MEN's 2008-09 season. Ended by a man named Broderick Bunkley.

His name is BRODERICK BUNKLEY. WHAT KIND OF FUCKING NAME IS THAT? An awesome name that's what. Broderick Bunkley LoBelia. 2012: It's happening. No, I don't want to hear that shit, okay? I already compromised on Vermont, I am not compromising on this. AND NO WE ARE NOT GOING TO BOSTON FOR CHRISTMASES.

The Iggles are now public enemy No. 1 of the playoffs. Fortunately, a hero is coming to stop them once and for all. His name: Larry. Fitzgerald. Irishman. Patriot. Wears Glasses.

This post is not sponsored by Disney. I am owned by NO MAN. NO MOUSE. NO PIG. NO MARTIAN.

This weekend is the annual ESPN at Disney weekend or some shit. It's pretty much the epitome of crass, soulless cross-promotion, and as a frequent ESPN viewer it makes me want to RETCH.

All forms of cross-promotion suck, except for The Flintstones Meet the Jetsons, but none is worse than when Disney sticks its tentacles in one of its fiefs.

Disney itself is a base organization, which is sad because it's very good at supplying a vacation experience. It's also an unscrupulous organization, as the Disney parks (at least in America) are usually dens of filth, sexual assault and horrific death (incidents that Disney is basically immune from re: prosecution and civil suits). Don't believe me? Here's a completely trustworthy website: http://www.anomalies-unlimited.com/Disney.html.

But enough of that. Disney also offends by swamping everything it touches with perfectly clean, polished corporate shit, and whenever ESPN has to indulge the mouse, it inevitably devotes an inordinate amount of its programming promoting everything Disney and, even worse, the state of Florida.

Take tonight for instance. Between fellating Tim Tebow (hint: in order to properly fellate him, you need tweezers lined with cotton) and, um, shit actually that was the only other thing they were doing tonight, but the main thing they were doing was promoting THE ORANGE BOWL OH WOW AND LOOK WHAT'S NEAR THE ORANGE BOWL??? DISNEYWORLD! WOW!

ESPN has been threatening its viewers with such great things like Mike & Mike reporting live from the fucking Teacup ride and Donald Duck doing play analysis or some shit.

Mike & Mike is enough of an abomination. Having them being joined by fucking Goofy is... wait, actually that would raise the average intelligence of that show substantially. But it would be unpleasant nevertheless.

As for Donald Duck doing analysis, I am almost 100% certain he's not as smart as Ron Jaworski and he totally blew that Patriots pick from October. Yeah, AFTER Brady got hurt he was still like, "THE PAYTWIOTS WIW TOWTAWY GO AW DA WAY WID MAWONI AND DEY GOW MAWS TOO AYGAGAGAGAGAGAGAAGAGA." Yeah Donald, that's why we don't base our predictions on player performance on Madden, okay?

Also, I didn't want to bring this up but I feel someone has to say it... Donald Duck is a racist. There I said it. You don't believe me? Watch Who Framed Roger Rabbit. He clearly calls Daffy Duck a "nigger" during the piano duel. Watch it. He fucking says it. What a fucking creep man. Daffy is not a nigger, he's clearly a CHINK.

I will probably have more on this later, but I... I just can't right now. Okay? LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE.

Things I Don't Understand: Nonfiction Book Titles: How They Are Gay and Retarded and Make Me Ashamed of My Proud Aryan Heritage -- A Shitty Primer

Nonfiction books are how people show they are intelekshul. But outside of a few authors, most of them are rank shite. But nothing is more shitey than the title of the average nonfiction book. How do they do it?


Oh look, a noun followed by a sentence starting with "How." This is perhaps the laziest construction of nonfiction titles. It just screams "2nd-grade essay." The point of a book's title is to inform in as few words as possible. Who the fuck would be confused by the cover of a book that simply said "Sarah" and has a picture of SARAH!!! on it?

This style of titling is popular with [name redacted] and her shitty slurry of archconservative brainvomit. Every time I see these kinds of books, I instinctively recoil, like stumbling upon a giant turd laid in the jungle. Goddammit, dad, I told you not to shit by my cave!!

Book title I would write if I had to write in this style: "Shithead: How You Became One by Buying and Reading This Book"


Here's a classic style: Imperative followed by a sentence starting with "Inside". Anything with "inside" that is not actually inside of something is going to be misleading. Here, Huck promises to show us the "inside" of a movement that will do something inspiring (so long as you are a white Christian, preferably male, preferably circumcised. Irish need not apply).

What these books most likely deliver, though, is simply a series of disjointed monologues about what's wrong with America, in particular "kids" and their "crack rock." This form of title is also popular with political farts in general who think they're being all intriguing by spilling the bears on the "inside" of some shitty, nascent political movement that is really the regurtitation of ideas that civilization has come to terms with. Bonus points if this is "inside" the CIA, which inevitably is attached to books that whitewash the CIA.

Book title I would write if I had to write in this style: "Look out! Inside the Workings of Your Anus, Which Is Where Your Head Will Find Itself Shortly After Opening This Book."


Twin verbs followed by a gerund, or how your grandpa learned to read self-help books. Whenever you promise something to someone, you have to pile on verbs. Not simply "Yes you can," but "You can do shit, fuck shit, beat shit and slang shit!" The more verbs you pile on, the more empowering you seem.

This is beyond "How to Win Friends and Influence People." How-to implies passivity, and you can't be bothered to sit still for two fucking seconds and actually learn something. No, you have to be constantly reassured that you are indeed "changing" something right from the start, such as changing your brain cells from "living" to "dead."

Here, this author goes for the patented one-two "change". He cuts right through the bullshit's crust to its soft, tasty interior. It's almost as if he realizes that the first "change" is a lowball and jumps right to the big picture. "Change your thoughts... NO, change your life." :sits back, hi-fives self, downs bag of Cheetos:

Of course, you must follow up with a sentence that describes what kind of shit you're peddling. Always use a gerund; it combines the excitement of action with the awesomeness of owning shit. In this case, the gerund is "living." Seize life by plunking down $20 to have some guy tell you to stop fucking around and buy a Corvette already YOU 45-YEAR-OLD WASTE OF LIFE.

To top it all off, please include a picture of the author in a sweater or sweatervest casually leaning against a railing that overlooks someplace more awesome than you will ever see. Perhaps some place you will imagine before the boot of reality comes down on your face for the last time before it all goes dark.

Book title I would write if I had to write in this style: "Kill Your Family, Kill Yourself: Ending the Mistake That Was Your Lineage."


Quad Damage: Four titles in one horrid piece of shit! I don't know who the Duggars are. Perhaps they are a great, well-adjusted family... Wait, they have 20 kids. I am retracting that bet. I SAID I AM RETRACTING IT. GIVE ME MY FUCKING MONEY BACK.

If you're in doubt about what to name your book, just throw up as many ideas as you want. Fuck it! Here we have a somewhat rare fourpeat of mediocrity.

We start off with your standard noun/colon combo. Pretty simple, pretty amateurish, but then the Duggars throw a curveball: the exclamation point! 20 AND COUNTING! In case you were confused by the picture on the cover of two maladjusted people and their 20 kids, yup, those are all Duggars. Can you spot all of them? Hint: one is located in someone's pocket!

Having exhausted the most exciting parts of their story, the Duggars then move on to the standard gerund. But wait, what's this? A DASH? THEY ARE SWITCHING GEARS AGAIN!!!

"How they do it"

OHHHHHH NOOOOOOO, how they DO it? Noooo Duggars, you held my amusement until there, now it just sounds like babyish tripe! Awww man.

Still, give them their propers for enthusiasm. They really wanted to squeeze every last banal detail about their book out of the title. It's rare that you see a dash used like that, so there is some hint of great mediocrity there. Maybe when they hit #40 they can come back with a sextuple title and really blow our minds (and further strike fear in the heart of our crotches).

Book title I would write if I had to write in this style: "Bang Bang: You're Dead! Fifty Bullets in Your head--Make It a Reality"


You can tell it's a conspiracy because it contains the word "and" in it. The best titles are the pedantic ones. "GETTING SHOT: WHY IT HAPPENS IN AMERICA, AND WHAT IT MEANS FOR SOCIETY IN GENERAL (HINT: IT'S NOT AS AWESOME AS ADVERTISED!@)" The first thing I want a book title to do is to tell me why I have the most obvious reaction to something because I am a retard who needs to have everything spelled out right from the fucking get-go.

In this case, we have the easy target of the Bosh Family. The writer here uses BIG WORD small preposition BIG WORD, a pretty typical construction when you want to scare the shit out of stupid people. But the real kicker is the sentence at the end that's like a little child stacking blocks, one larger than the other, on top of each other, then marveling at his archetectural monstrosity before putting army men on it and then knocking it down with toy blocks. Hey, fuck you, THAT GAME ROCKED. BEEEEEOW BEEEEOW RATAATATATATATTA KABOOM OH GOD THEY GOT JOHNNY! MY GOD NO!

This title only works on the supremely dumb, though. Everyone who has been alive these past 20 years knows about the subject matter, so beating around the bush (lol) like this is simply tacky. THE BUSH DYNASTY (points off for not using Bu$h Dyna$ty), THE POWERFUL FORCES THAT PUT IT IN THE WHITE HOUSE, well gee, really? The Bushes, who now count two presidents, a governor and a cartoon character amongst their ranks are a DYNASTY? WHO ARE BACKED BY POWERFUL PEOPLE? How naive does one reader have to be to buy this shit? Hint: every Obama supporter in the universe is this book's target audience.

The kicker, though, is WHAT IT MEANS FOR MERICA, aka you, the horrified reader. Yes you. What does it mean for you? Something ominous because he uses the word DYNASTY. Yes, he is referring to the show. VICTORIA PRINCIPAL IS THE MOST DANGEROUS MANWOMAN IN AMERICA.

Book title I would write if I had to write in this style: "Piece of Shit: The Author, the 20 Odd Hours of Googling He's Done for "Research", and Why You Should Ready Your Own Grave Right Now"

So what's the deal with all these boring, dumb titles? The world may never know. I don't know when nonfiction books started being so banal and I don't know who's to blame. Maybe it was Dr. Spock. Yes... Dr. Spock... it's too logical..........

:RAISES

EYEBROW:

BREAKING NEWS: Phillip Rivers lobs rockets into southern Israel

If it's one thing modern TV does right, it's provide live views of calamities. Well, no, it doesn't acatually do that right but in the case of Israel bombing the shit out of Gaza it's pretty interesting.

As of this posting, it's daylight in Gaza and CNN International (MSNBC and FNC have taken a powder but FUCK THEM anyway) is showing us live footage of some smoke rising above some buildings and angry Simetic people using a long "u" when they speak. This somewhat reminds me of watching live as the US rolled into Iraq. I think that was Oscar night of 2003, which was pretty awkwaaaard if I recall correctly.

The network that does this the best, though, is Al-Jazeera. Even though AJ has an English-language affiliate, no cable provider in the US will pick them up because LOLTERRISTS. But AJ itself is not afraid to get up in the grill of a war and show the real consequences of it. You would never see CNN do that unless they felt that the warporn was justified (i.e., it's not Americans shown as being blown to pieces). It's pretty quaint that way, that American TV is usually fine with deplorable violence but not when it gets REAL. What's the point of disensitizing people if you're not gonna follow up with the real thing?

What this ultimately means, though, is that despite 450+ dead Palestinians, many of whom are kids, most people don't seem to know or care what's happening to them. Outside of the US, people are more sympathetic to the Palestinians. But here in the good ol' US o' A, people sympathize with the Israelis.

Why is this? You can speculate all you want but I think utltimately the difference is this: Hamas' rockets have killed a grand total of four people, and the biggest complaints about them is that they are a nuisance. A nuisance! They interrupt people's daily lives and shit. Perhaps Americans view nuisances and annoyances as being a bigger deal than outright carnage because Americans just don't know what carnage is. It's not so much "ignorance is bliss" but "oh no, you mean... you mean they have trouble getting a MOCHA? oh, oh my, oh my g- *chokes up*." It's just a different perspective.

So if you live in the States, count yourself lucky that you are so shielded from real danger that you perceive irritations as being the absolute worst thing possible! I don't know whether that's a good thing or not, but I guess it's not because Americans tend to be really stupid about foreign affairs and stupid people annoy me. AND THAT IS THE WORST THING I CAN POSSIBLY CONCEIVE OF RRRGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

*goes back to watching history unfold*