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01
Jun
This is my little brother’s dog, Dutch, as in Duchess. She is this insane always. Let’s all be this insane this weekend! I’ll be at the Virginia-Highland Summerfest, mostly because even if I just sat in my house it’d be happening all around me. And then I’m probably going to do other stuff, too. To do stuff, you need music. Here’s music!
31
May
A few days ago, people (myself included) started sharing around links of lists about how the zombie apocalypse was beginning, because of someone who got their face eaten off in Miami, and Aimee’s bacteria, and shootings that were seemingly random. Now, the supposedly better of us are filling the Internets with screeds against how cruel the Internet is. Hello, welcome to the circle. Now you know.
Here’s what happened today in Internet:
Look at that smirk. Look at that hair. This, ladies and gentlemen, is the first Democrat I wanted to vote for (I’m YOUNG). He’s one of the few candidates who took the unpopular stance of real and full-blown reform of the way we treat poverty, and then he went and fucked it all up with that stupid expensive haircut and that ridiculously soap opera-like affair, and then on top of it all probably he took illegal money for his campaign, and I feel SO BETRAYED.
Anyway, John Edwards was acquitted on one of six charges against him, and then a judge declared mistrial because the jury was deadlocked on the other five. And then he went and did a totally John Edwards thing, that was so, just, John Edwardsy, and was like, “I did an awful, awful lot that was wrong. And there is no one else responsible for my sins,” and took responsibility for everything.
Have any of my Charlotte peeps seen this billboard? Do you go to this church? Because this gives me so much hope.
Speaking of the incredibly sacred institution of marriage, this Yankees fan is just so, I dunno, Yankees fan-like. Seriously what is even happening here! I learned from two Mad Mens ago that when you divorce someone they get served! Which is kind of awesome. I don’t know why. I’m morbid, I guess.
Remember when you had your heart ripped out for the first time, and you thought you were going to die, and that you would love that person forever, but whoops then you met someone else and you were like, “Oh, the whole entire rest of my life is in front of me?” I hope Kevin learned that lesson. Oh, Kev.
LOL soccer, you’re trying so hard to be cool! We were a thing that one summer, but it never got serious. Sorry. Still, this video is pretty badass and makes me wish sports celebrations could really be this insane. Then again, these weapons in the hands of Metta World Peace Ron Artest would maybe not be the best idea.
OK, now let’s talk about zombies. My favorite Internet-person, Richard Lawson, of Atlantic Wire, and Lindy West, of Jezebel, were all like GUYS STOP LAUGHING AT PEOPLE DYING. Here’s the thing, Internet-people I like: the world is a horrible place. If you let it, it will eat you alive for real, not like mythical zombies. If you want to give every dead person their presumably due reverence, you would be in mourning forever. I want death to mean something. I want sad feelings to not be in vain. I want people with mental illness to not be left without care, especially not to the point they get shot to death on a street in Miami with bits of person-face in their mouth. But the world is not particularly generous in this way. Bad things happen all the time, and I believe in the right of people to parody and to mock. We can’t all be sad for your friends who died in the coffee shop, Lindy. We’d have to be sad for all the people who are dead everywhere, and the people who are alive in terrible circumstances everywhere, and it would take up too much of our brainspace. Mean-spirited Internet-people took an image of a young girl with Down’s Syndrome and turned it into a meme, and it’s mean, but it’s OK. That girl is going to be OK. Someone called me a cunt on the Internet (OK, probably more than one person, more than one time), and it totally hurt my feelings, and that’s OK. It’s how she deals with feeling sad. She’s allowed to say it, even if it’s shitty, because ultimately, it doesn’t mean anything. My point is, I guess, that there is pain and suffering that is close to you, and that should be felt, and then there is the rest of the world, which will keep happening again and again whether or not you are in it. People die and other people make jokes about it, because it’s not under those people’s purview to be sad about every single death. That would be absurd and sad and horrible. The world is dark enough. Let us have our goddamn zombies.
You know how in movies where the world ends, the first thing that survives is usually something of nature, and not human-created? Maybe after that dark discussion of zombies, a nature-thing will make you feel happier. J is in Charlotte right now, and he was in a gravel parking lot and found a bird’s nest dug into the ground, and when he approached the nest, the mama-bird ran away from the nest and did a pretty dance with her feathers. Turns out that’s to divert predators from her nest! But why do you put the nest in the ground, little mama bird? Anyway, here’s a video not-made-by-J of this bird, using its diversion tactics.
I wish I had pretty tailfeathers like that. I’d totally spread ‘em out when I walk past bitches in the clurb.
Guys, I went to journo-drinks tonight, which entailed two venues, a ninja free-parking scenario, a melon concoction, several tequila concoctions, and queso for dinner. What I’m trying to say is, I’m so not making a real post tonight. Rats, and I had so many great things collected from Imgur, too! Like this:
My cat is named Jones! And one time, I was watching Alien, and she’s going through the space-vehicle going, “Jones! Jonesie! Jones!” calling for the cat, and my obese sausage of an animal goes thumping over to the television and props himself up there, like maybe Sigourney Weaver’s going to give him a treat, because seriously his only concern is food.
OK now, go away. I have yoga in literally actually probably seemingly 7 hours, and you are not helping, and the dog is sitting happily in her chair with one of my bras in my mouth, so right now I have to go.
For good measure, here’s this other cat:
30
May
I’m on deadline today, which means pure magic is flowing from my fingertips into the keyboard as I spell out what’s happening in, like, finance and stuff. When I do this, I like to listen to music. Yesterday, I read this awesome story from Alex Baca at The Billfold about the things she bought immediately following her breakup. In the story, she lists a bunch of music I haven’t heard, so I’m listening to it now.
I’m Groovesharking The Promise Ring right now, and Alex, seriously, are you 16? This is like Jimmy Eat World if we never grew up, which is not to say that it’s bad, but just that it’s a bit too whimsically adolescent for my taste. I’m moving on to Lilys’ “Better Can’t Make Your Life Better” now, just in case that Promise Ring crap was like a fluke based on your shitty boyfriend, who you will by the way get over, and none of this will seem so bad in a few months, really.
Update: Don’t listen to any of that. Listen to Class Actress instead. Trust me.
I checked my Klout score today for the first time in months. According to the service, I am an influencer in the world of cats, though that influence may have been negatively affected by my recent obsession with actual news, if my friends are right. Here’s Donny:
These posts are getting really dark. (Even the uplifting story about cousin Aimee is pretty depressing.) More tv, sports and kittens!
OK Donny. Let’s ease our minds with the little gems I found today on the Internet.
What’s that, a kitten, you say? Nay! It’s a baby ocelot. So, that happened.
This guy made a video in which he and 60 friends and relatives did a lip-sync performance as part of his proposal to his girlfriend (a different Amy, Donny! No flesh-eating bacteria!) and I’m not even kidding you when I say that I had tears streaming down my cheeks even before the music started playing through her headphones, because literally I will cry at anything, especially commercials with babies in them, or stock photos of people being happy, etc. I AM YOUR TARGET MARKET, ADVERTISERS. FIND ME.
Holy shit the Google glasses are fucking scary, and can I please have a pair? I will use them to tell people more about cats/kittens, and I have evidence from an outside source stating that I am an influencer in that group, so. Hello, rich people? Kat’s joining you. Yes, I’ll hold.
Would you say The Meatball Shop’s meatballs are better than Run-DMC? I fucking would. Hamilton Nolan would fucking not. He would not eat them in a car, he would not like them in a bar, he does not like meatballs and cheese, he does not like them, so give them to me, please. Really, though, he does make a good point about how obsessed people get not just with food, but with being foodies. Comparing food to music makes no sense, but especially, comparing food from now to music from the 80s seriously what is even happening in this story come on people.
Haha, can you not afford to eat at The Meatball Shop because you work there? This girl wrote a story about how she doesn’t want to apply for food stamps because she feels, like, conflicted about being poor, because some lady told her she was overeducated. That lady is a bitch! And super presumptive. And totally unaware of the economy or her surroundings, considering she was talking to employees in a coffee shop at which she is a patron. You live in New York, girl. Get a thicker skin and hipster-judge that lady until she shrivels her way back to Madison, Wis., or wherever the fuck she’s from. Then, go buy a wheel of cheese with your food stamps!
Hey, I found this podcast via sources, and it’s like Radiolab or This American Life but less well-researched and shorter, and Atlanta-centric, and from the people who do “How Stuff Works,” which one of my friends’ older brothers refers to as, “How ‘Dey Do ‘Dat,” which.
This is my actual cat. I don’t let him drive anymore because of all the misadventures of Toonces. (I’m a controlling cat-mommy, I know.) Here is some more seriously important information about cats (this is really happening):
OK I know I promised to keep it light, but seriously how can you ignore the growing evidence of an impending zombie apocalypse?? Too bad I got bored with The Walking Dead like two episodes into its second season, or I might be better prepared. Also, the timeline leaves out Aimee entirely. I’M WATCHING YOU, LITTLE GIRL. I KNOW WHAT YOU’VE BECOME.
Please excuse me while I catch the express train to hell.
25
May
I wrote a little submission in response to a prompt from Write Club Atlanta, and they liked it, and now it’s up on their website! Read it, everyone.
My boyfriend’s coming back into town tonight! And we’re going to a wedding in Birmingham tomorrow! And other reasons! That’s why I’m not making my own playlist on Spotify tonight. Instead, I give you this little gem from my friend DJ Vikas Sapra, who does a lot of gigs in New York and Jersey, if you’re into that kind of thing.
24
May
Today was a day full of ups and downs for the greatest profession of them all, which is, of course, the one that I’m in. It brings us so many great things, like everything I post here, and, like, other stuff! Let’s save it, guys. Find a way.
Here’s what happened today in Internet:
Hey guys, remember the people who were so absolutely certain the world was going to end like a year ago? Accept Jesus now, they said. There will be earthquakes, they said. There weren’t. I mean there were, but not anything out of the ordinary. And the true believers weren’t zapped up into heaven (OR WERE THEY??) Anyway, here’s a great piece on where all those good folk are now, a year after they sold everything they owned, wasted their entire savings and didn’t let their children apply to college because they were so sure the world was going to end.
I’m not from Detroit, but I love reading the Free Press. Why’s that, you didn’t ask? Because their storytelling is fucking great, that’s why. Like this one, about a man who was pronounced dead of natural causes in a basement. The mortician found a bullet hole in his chest. Very mysterious, indeed. I say it was Mrs. Green with the lead pipe in the study! (Lead pipes make bullet holes, when used correctly.)
The Atlantic posted a series of 150-year-old photos from the American West, and now I’m convinced every single Western I’ve ever seen is completely true. Including An American Tail. “Somewhere out there/beneath the paaaaale mooooon liiiiiiiight,” the lonely mouse sang out into the desert sky. IN REAL LIFE.
Down here in Georgia, 24-year-old Aimee Copeland is fighting for her life against a flesh-eating bacteria that got into her leg when she fell from a homemade zip line and her leg was gashed open. Aimee was in a coma for awhile, and they’ve taken off her legs and hands, but I’ll be damned if she didn’t sit up in a chair for five whole hours today. Miracles happen, I guess.
Here is a story about the good old days of journalism, dug up when journalists in Philadelphia found a paper exactly 150 years old lost somewhere in the stacks of crap on their desks. (I’m assuming the finding of the paper is a complete fabrication, even though a journalist would NEVER lie.) Anyway, the story rings of distaste for what’s happening to the industry now, now that we can’t sell ads or do good reporting on what the intelligent negroes had to say, etc. Ugh, I hate journalism.
I love journalism! SAVE IT! The New Orleans Times-Picayune is being gutted by its corporate owner, who is pitching its plan to cut staff and publication days as a move to the future. In the future, nothing happens except on Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. The rest of the time, we all just play dangerous action sports in our hovercrafts. The move by Newhouse is a victory for all the slimy politicians in that city, and one they didn’t have to work for. I hate that cutting publication days is a thing, because what it really means is that readers will get mostly click-luring content on non-paper days and extremely overworked reporters on paper days. GREAT THINKING. Make your content total shit, then wonder why advertisers don’t want to sponsor it! IT’S THE FUTURE.
Not everything in journalism is dead. After all, David Carr got that story about the Picayune dying, right? And this: Merlene Davis in Kentucky, of all places, wrote this wonderful piece on the martyrdom of gays as the lowest of all sinners. It’s a civil rights issue, you dicks! Jesus was about love, not legislation!
Oh, were you waiting for an item on Doctor Who? Yeah, uh, I don’t have one.
23
May
When you open a window using Google Chrome, it shows your your top-viewed sites. They’re just sitting right there for you to assess, and mine tell a sad tale. I’m in the business of serious news, and the sites I look at most at home include our home page, and a whole bunch of silly shit.
This is real:
Life is heavy sometimes, and the Internet is a great tool to escape the weight. It provides all sorts of nasty little delights, and you can open them all at once in separate tabs. Feeling bad about that fatty dinner you just had? Write a review of the restaurant on Yelp so your boyfriend’s ex will see it. It will make her sad! And then you will be happy. You’d rather scrape your eyeballs out than read another spreadsheet? Check out all the cute animals on Imgur! Your brain will get weaker the longer you’re there, but seriously, the animals. SO CUTE.
My point is that my little nightly news program spends a lot of time on this silly shit, and it’s arguably the best silly shit there is to be had, but sometimes I want to get serious. If you don’t want to get serious, I suggest you go to here. If you’re willing to give this a shot, hang in there for today’s super serious Today in Internet.
This is Dana Swanson, a friend of mine who a few weeks ago was having an ordinary night and then was given, as she calls it, “Unfortunate Brain News.” Dana’s documenting her entire journey on YouTube, because she maybe always has been a performer but also because she is brave and the videos are absolutely stunning. Start here.
Last week, J and I were trying to have a normal Sunday, hanging out, reading the paper, killing time until Mad Men starts, except instead of being normal I kept shouting out loud at the page of the paper I was reading, because it was the New York Times piece on student loan debt, and I was super, super mad. The editorial board followed up with a column asking for full disclosure for students who borrow to pay their way through school. I think it’s not enough. Why should college only be for the children of people who can afford it? Aren’t we supposed to be a society of mobility?
Salman Rushdie gave this fantastic lecture on the many forms of censorship. I love the way he speaks, and plus, censorship makes me want to scream at newspapers, etc.
OK, and that’s all I have for today. Life is hard and my head hurts and we can’t win every day. See you tomorrow, probably.
Here goes nothing. I found all kinds of gems in the off-brand Internet world today, and that’s what I’m about to send your way. Did you spend your day doing all the ordinary Internet-things? Then this is everything you missed!
The world’s most beautiful pair of lips (take that, ScarJo) did a Funny or Die video making fun of that bestseller series everyone is reading now that everyone has read the Dragon Tattoo series and the Hunger Games series and that book about the old man and the elephants. It’s like Lady Chatterley’s Lover, but modern, apparently! I wouldn’t know; I don’t read. Reading is for morons who get emotionally attached to Harry Potter and find ways to apply the morals of a children’s story to their own lives. I like books where people kill themselves with style, so, Russian literature, mostly. SNOBBERY.
EMERGENCY EDIT/ADD-ON: This wasn’t in the original post, but it deserved to be. Because my friend Jackson just discovered “If Websites Were People,” and therefore so did I, and now I know what I’m doing with the next 20 minutes of my life, and this one’s about Tumblr, which we’re on now which is kind of, like, meta, I guess, if you’re into that kind of thing.
If you’re anything like me, when you heard that Trayvon Martin story, you were all like, LOL, how can I take that George Zimmerman shit to a new level. (NOT REALLY, YOU RACIST PRICKS.) Anyway, some guy in New Orleans is there to step up to the plate. He’s in the part of the school system that decides which kids go to alternative school (hint: they’re all black), and he says those people should be put down. No, that’s actually what he said. Then, he said he was thankful Lake Pontchartrain is there to separate his white community from the black (and therefore crime-filled, by implication) city to the south, East New Orleans. It goes on and on. I love Twitter, because it gives people like this a voice, which means we get to see people like him for what they are RIGHT AWAY. Before Twitter, this guy could have been quietly simmering with murderous thoughts and we wouldn’t have known, but now, we can read it! Like this:
Literally the only transition I can think of is an abrupt subject change in which I tell you that I’m changing the subject.
Let’s talk about where I went to college. It was listed among schools where students claim they study in this story by the Washington Post. They’re all liars! You assholes. You were in the library, yeah. But you were not studying. You were being social. It’s just that there were no bars in town, so the best non-frat scene (and sometimes the best frat scene, actually) was in Leyburn. So stop pretending like that was work. True story: the most time I ever spent in my college library was this one semester when I had a class there. It smelled weird. Ew.
You wanna hear something super sad? Cats in Turkey are committing suicide because of earthquakes, this crazy-sounding guy said. Cats are jumping out of buildings at higher rates than normal, only they’re cats so they live and just have some broken bones or whatever. I’m glad I live on the bottom floor of a house, because my cat is a malcontent if I ever saw one.
Pretending to sleep while plotting my untimely death, I’m certain.
GQ sent Drew Magary out to do a profile of Justin Bieber. It’s hilariously bad! Drew and I have an on-and-off relationship, in that we don’t know each other and sometimes I read his work and I laugh out loud and other times I’m like, “Oh God, I’m way too tired to deal with reading this right now.” But he does a great job of getting us through Bieber’s stupid handlers and pointing out the sheer absurdity of the existence of the Biebz. It’s like that episode of South Park where Britney blows her head off with a shotgun (I cried several times during that episode) (what, did you think I was not a total weirdo? This is the Internet, duh) only a few generations of pop star later. I wish he would shave his head and hit cars with an umbrella. Kids today are soft.
Do you shop a lot? I don’t, but lately I’ve realized all my clothes are from 2003, which is problematic now that I’m supposedly a professional, and 26 years old, and also now I have this tattoo on my arm that needs to be visible at certain times and invisible at others. Anyway, I want to buy every single thing on Nasty Gal right now. Consider this my birthday registry. (Do people have registries for their birthdays? Like, I mean, really rich people? I wouldn’t know.)
BREAKING NEWS UPDATE:
I love you guys. GREENE OUT.
