Writer James Ellroy has moved back to Los Angeles after several years away. But he wasn't really away, not completely, as he explains in this sensational essay for The Los Angeles Times.
- Bob Sassone
Monday, July 31, 2006
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Monday, July 24, 2006
Your Barf: For Sale
This is not as brilliant as it sounds: U.S. Airways Barf Bags To Carry Ads.
Now we all have puked at different times in our lives and all too often we do not have good memories of doing so. As a kid I went to a maple syrup farm and ate maple things all day until... you guessed it... I puked. For years, I could not eat anything maple nor smell it. I avoided Vermont completely. So I am pretty sure that if I am spewing my innards out at 50,000 feet, whoever's name is on my barf bag will certainly trigger bad memories.
"Sorry Mr. Campbell. Bad place for that ad. For some reason I won't be buying Chunky Soup for awhile."
I think, instead of barf bags, they should just put in McDonald's Happy Meal boxes. Then you can carry your spew off the plane and give it to the next homeless person you see. They will be getting a free hot lunch.... and a toy surprise!
I have even money that it won't be too long until we start seeing life insurance ads on the flotation devices located under our seats.
Then, how about ads on our vehicle airbags?
"I dunno, I saw this truck flip in front of me and before I could avoid it, the sudden urge to buy Depends at Wal-Mart smacked me in the face."
How about Match.com advertising on the foreheads of our... I mean your... blow-up dolls?
"Need to fill that other hole in your life? Match.com."
- Brian Lewandowski
Now we all have puked at different times in our lives and all too often we do not have good memories of doing so. As a kid I went to a maple syrup farm and ate maple things all day until... you guessed it... I puked. For years, I could not eat anything maple nor smell it. I avoided Vermont completely. So I am pretty sure that if I am spewing my innards out at 50,000 feet, whoever's name is on my barf bag will certainly trigger bad memories.
"Sorry Mr. Campbell. Bad place for that ad. For some reason I won't be buying Chunky Soup for awhile."
I think, instead of barf bags, they should just put in McDonald's Happy Meal boxes. Then you can carry your spew off the plane and give it to the next homeless person you see. They will be getting a free hot lunch.... and a toy surprise!
I have even money that it won't be too long until we start seeing life insurance ads on the flotation devices located under our seats.
Then, how about ads on our vehicle airbags?
"I dunno, I saw this truck flip in front of me and before I could avoid it, the sudden urge to buy Depends at Wal-Mart smacked me in the face."
How about Match.com advertising on the foreheads of our... I mean your... blow-up dolls?
"Need to fill that other hole in your life? Match.com."
- Brian Lewandowski
Friday, July 14, 2006
Friday Quick Links
Mark Cuban says the internet is old and boring.
Chocolate helps women with PMS. Pizza works that way with guys.
Ross MacDonald died 23 years ago this week.
Your air conditioner is making you fat.
Amy Sedaris tumbles with Stephen Colbert and Paul Dinello.
- Bob Sassone
Chocolate helps women with PMS. Pizza works that way with guys.
Ross MacDonald died 23 years ago this week.
Your air conditioner is making you fat.
Amy Sedaris tumbles with Stephen Colbert and Paul Dinello.
- Bob Sassone
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Comic Book Guy, Is That You?
From Craigslist:
I am seeking a level 42 or above rogue, druid, and sorceress to help me assault the fortress of Mordria, and for hot kinky sex. I am the sole holder of the Axe of Fragyholt and am a level 72 Paladin equipped with Def+ 52 plate mail. I also have a really big penis. I can cast Magic Missile, Icebolt, and am a fairly skilled at cunnilingus. Indeed, Orcs and Goblins are no match for me, not unlike your unsuspecting genitalia, which shall recieve a thrashing, the likes of which have been only whispered in hushed voice in times of darkness. I have a lot of experience, both with annihilating ogres, and the finer points of pleasuring fair maidens, and like to be beaten with wet towels. I live at home with Mother, and you will have to sneak in through the basement window. This partnership boasts many advantages, such as an unlimited supply of Cheetos and Mountain Dew, and hot, steamy, hanky-panky with my massive member. Comic book lovers a plus.
Whoa.
- Bob Sassone
I am seeking a level 42 or above rogue, druid, and sorceress to help me assault the fortress of Mordria, and for hot kinky sex. I am the sole holder of the Axe of Fragyholt and am a level 72 Paladin equipped with Def+ 52 plate mail. I also have a really big penis. I can cast Magic Missile, Icebolt, and am a fairly skilled at cunnilingus. Indeed, Orcs and Goblins are no match for me, not unlike your unsuspecting genitalia, which shall recieve a thrashing, the likes of which have been only whispered in hushed voice in times of darkness. I have a lot of experience, both with annihilating ogres, and the finer points of pleasuring fair maidens, and like to be beaten with wet towels. I live at home with Mother, and you will have to sneak in through the basement window. This partnership boasts many advantages, such as an unlimited supply of Cheetos and Mountain Dew, and hot, steamy, hanky-panky with my massive member. Comic book lovers a plus.
Whoa.
- Bob Sassone
Note To Lev Grossman: You Should Probably Read More
I'm a little late on this, Lev Grossman's search for the writer that is the "voice of this generation" in Time. But it's worth discussing, if only for its cluelessness.
Grossman's main point: there are no young writers worth reading.
Stunning, no? What the hell is he talking about? He starts off the column by noting that famous writers like Jonathan Franzen, David Foster Wallace, Jonathan Lethem and Michael Chabon are in their 40s, as if this proves anything. Who said that any of these writers were supposed to be the voice of a generation? I doubt any of these guys try to position themselves as the voice of anything, except themselves. Besides, aren't voices of a generation usually picked after that generation has passed?
Grossman says "but if Wallace, Franzen, et al aren't the leading young novelists anymore, who are?" Were Wallace and Franzen ever a "leading young novelist?" Franzen has written three novels (the last one several years ago), Wallace has written one.
"And if you listen closely, you'll start to wonder if the current generation has a voice at all."
Again, what is he talking about? Has he even read anything by young writers? All the people he mentions in the piece are in their late 20s, 30s, or 40s. And it's all the same names that everyone mentions (Eggers, Lethem, Chabon, Whitehead, Krauss, Danticat, Shtengart, Zadie Smith). It's almost as if he wants the piece to be in-depth, but then he just lists all the same authors that everyone in the book universe talks about. Lev, there is a world beyond what's on the "new trade paperback" table at Borders, a world beyond the writers you have to read because they are famous and "hip."
Grossman also talks about how books are getting shorter. Yeah, because heaven forbid someone writer a good, short book instead of a doorstop. James Sallis' Drive is better than Infinite Jest.
I just dont think that Grossman even knows what the point of his piece is. If he wants an answer to who the "voice of a generation" is, it's no one, and everyone. The way the world is now, with so many entertainment options and blogs and everything else, I'd say everyone is the voice. And when Bret Easton Ellis says in the piece that the best books of this generation (this generation? What generation is he talking about? Is it the same generation as Grossman? I thought he was talking about younger writers??) are The Corrections, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, and The Fortress of Solitude, I'm offended. Someone else confusing "size" and "importance" with "good." Maybe they're fine novels, but they're not the best books of any generation. They aren't even the best books released the year they were released.
- Bob Sassone
Grossman's main point: there are no young writers worth reading.
Stunning, no? What the hell is he talking about? He starts off the column by noting that famous writers like Jonathan Franzen, David Foster Wallace, Jonathan Lethem and Michael Chabon are in their 40s, as if this proves anything. Who said that any of these writers were supposed to be the voice of a generation? I doubt any of these guys try to position themselves as the voice of anything, except themselves. Besides, aren't voices of a generation usually picked after that generation has passed?
Grossman says "but if Wallace, Franzen, et al aren't the leading young novelists anymore, who are?" Were Wallace and Franzen ever a "leading young novelist?" Franzen has written three novels (the last one several years ago), Wallace has written one.
"And if you listen closely, you'll start to wonder if the current generation has a voice at all."
Again, what is he talking about? Has he even read anything by young writers? All the people he mentions in the piece are in their late 20s, 30s, or 40s. And it's all the same names that everyone mentions (Eggers, Lethem, Chabon, Whitehead, Krauss, Danticat, Shtengart, Zadie Smith). It's almost as if he wants the piece to be in-depth, but then he just lists all the same authors that everyone in the book universe talks about. Lev, there is a world beyond what's on the "new trade paperback" table at Borders, a world beyond the writers you have to read because they are famous and "hip."
Grossman also talks about how books are getting shorter. Yeah, because heaven forbid someone writer a good, short book instead of a doorstop. James Sallis' Drive is better than Infinite Jest.
I just dont think that Grossman even knows what the point of his piece is. If he wants an answer to who the "voice of a generation" is, it's no one, and everyone. The way the world is now, with so many entertainment options and blogs and everything else, I'd say everyone is the voice. And when Bret Easton Ellis says in the piece that the best books of this generation (this generation? What generation is he talking about? Is it the same generation as Grossman? I thought he was talking about younger writers??) are The Corrections, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, and The Fortress of Solitude, I'm offended. Someone else confusing "size" and "importance" with "good." Maybe they're fine novels, but they're not the best books of any generation. They aren't even the best books released the year they were released.
- Bob Sassone
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
The Ghost Of Toto
I have a student who believes that Jeff Porcaro, the late drummer of the band Toto, is haunting her house. She states this as absolute fact, as if it isn't even a remote possibility that the ghost is John Bonham or Keith Moon. It is Jeff Porcaro and that is that.
"Did you know him?" I asked. We were sitting at a campus eatery dining on bagels and drinking coffee just like normal people might do, except that one of us was having a Poltergeist experience of the prog-rock variety.
"I'd never even heard of him before we met on the Ouija board," my student said. "I've found subsequently that I don't really care for his music."
By day, my student is a corporate concierge, which means she spends most of her sun-lit hours doing soul-scorching tasks such as arranging hotel rooms for visiting mistresses, procuring tickets to Carrot Top shows and generally acting the role of in-house bitch for the corporations that use her services. In the evening, however, my student likes to read books on out-of-body experiences, enjoys a raucous round of Ouija-ing and is prone to lay out the tarot whenever the, ahem, spirit moves her. So if anyone were ever fit to be living in a haunted house, it would be her.
"Did he live in your house?"
"Oh, no," she said. "He just sort of moved in about six months ago. He's very pleasant."
"Pardon my ignorance here," I said, "but just how exactly do you know that the ghost living in your house is the dead drummer from Toto? Does he leave cryptic messages about the `rains down in Africa' on your mirror while you're showering?"
My student took a sip of coffee and considered these questions for a moment. She's an older woman--I'm not sure of her exact age, though I'd suspect 40 came and went fairly recently--and her face is pale in a healthy way. She knew I was teasing her but opted instead to answer me seriously.
"Well," she said, "one night about a year ago my friend and I were talking on the Ouija and we came across a spirit who told me I was sick, that I had a tumor and that I needed to visit the doctor. I thought it was just some crazy thing, like how we sometimes got a spirit who claimed he was William Shatner, even though William Shatner is alive. But it just kept repeating the same thing over and over again until it really started to freak me out. It wouldn't stop until I agreed to visit a doctor. I felt fine, though, so it just seemed weird to me. But I'd promised, so I went for a general checkup."
I've only known my student for three months, but none of this sounded off-kilter. If anything, it sounded perfectly normal in comparison to other tales I'd heard. But when she said the checkup produced some odd blood results, it seemed more than a little odd. When she said that doctors later discovered a malignant tumor beneath her left breast, it made goose pimples crawl down my back. After a successful surgery and a long convalescence, my student finally got the energy to return to the Ouija.
"Right away," my student said, "the board says `I told you so!' and we start chatting and the board tells me that his name is Jeff and that he was a drummer in a famous band called Toto and that he died in 1992."
I opted not to argue the relative merits of the word "famous" in relation to Toto and instead said, "Well, okay. But how does a ghost opt to set up shop in someone's house?"
My student exhaled in exasperation. "You're being na•ve. He's my guiding light now. He watches over me. He simply saw that I needed someone and so, when he felt I was ready, he left the board and appeared in my house. He's not there every day. You could come over and not notice anything."
"How do you know when he arrives?"
"He turns my overhead fan on and off."
"So let me get this straight," I said. "Jeff Porcaro from Toto lives in your house as a spirit and his big trick is that he turns on your overhead fan?"
"Drummers play in the background," my student said. "It makes sense."
I've experienced a number of weird paranormal things in my 32 years on this planet--including the time I shared an elevator with Pauly Shore--but none of them was nearly this interactive. I'm not sure what I believe about the afterlife (I'm not even sure what I believe about this life--especially since I now have Scientologists sending me sophistic hate mail) but I can't help but wonder how, of all dead musicians, my student ended up with Jeff Porcaro as her personal ghost. I asked her if she had any idea.
"Maybe he just likes my fan," she said, "but he saved my life."
I couldn't find an argument for that.
- Tod Goldberg (originally published in the Las Vegas Mercury)
"Did you know him?" I asked. We were sitting at a campus eatery dining on bagels and drinking coffee just like normal people might do, except that one of us was having a Poltergeist experience of the prog-rock variety.
"I'd never even heard of him before we met on the Ouija board," my student said. "I've found subsequently that I don't really care for his music."
By day, my student is a corporate concierge, which means she spends most of her sun-lit hours doing soul-scorching tasks such as arranging hotel rooms for visiting mistresses, procuring tickets to Carrot Top shows and generally acting the role of in-house bitch for the corporations that use her services. In the evening, however, my student likes to read books on out-of-body experiences, enjoys a raucous round of Ouija-ing and is prone to lay out the tarot whenever the, ahem, spirit moves her. So if anyone were ever fit to be living in a haunted house, it would be her.
"Did he live in your house?"
"Oh, no," she said. "He just sort of moved in about six months ago. He's very pleasant."
"Pardon my ignorance here," I said, "but just how exactly do you know that the ghost living in your house is the dead drummer from Toto? Does he leave cryptic messages about the `rains down in Africa' on your mirror while you're showering?"
My student took a sip of coffee and considered these questions for a moment. She's an older woman--I'm not sure of her exact age, though I'd suspect 40 came and went fairly recently--and her face is pale in a healthy way. She knew I was teasing her but opted instead to answer me seriously.
"Well," she said, "one night about a year ago my friend and I were talking on the Ouija and we came across a spirit who told me I was sick, that I had a tumor and that I needed to visit the doctor. I thought it was just some crazy thing, like how we sometimes got a spirit who claimed he was William Shatner, even though William Shatner is alive. But it just kept repeating the same thing over and over again until it really started to freak me out. It wouldn't stop until I agreed to visit a doctor. I felt fine, though, so it just seemed weird to me. But I'd promised, so I went for a general checkup."
I've only known my student for three months, but none of this sounded off-kilter. If anything, it sounded perfectly normal in comparison to other tales I'd heard. But when she said the checkup produced some odd blood results, it seemed more than a little odd. When she said that doctors later discovered a malignant tumor beneath her left breast, it made goose pimples crawl down my back. After a successful surgery and a long convalescence, my student finally got the energy to return to the Ouija.
"Right away," my student said, "the board says `I told you so!' and we start chatting and the board tells me that his name is Jeff and that he was a drummer in a famous band called Toto and that he died in 1992."
I opted not to argue the relative merits of the word "famous" in relation to Toto and instead said, "Well, okay. But how does a ghost opt to set up shop in someone's house?"
My student exhaled in exasperation. "You're being na•ve. He's my guiding light now. He watches over me. He simply saw that I needed someone and so, when he felt I was ready, he left the board and appeared in my house. He's not there every day. You could come over and not notice anything."
"How do you know when he arrives?"
"He turns my overhead fan on and off."
"So let me get this straight," I said. "Jeff Porcaro from Toto lives in your house as a spirit and his big trick is that he turns on your overhead fan?"
"Drummers play in the background," my student said. "It makes sense."
I've experienced a number of weird paranormal things in my 32 years on this planet--including the time I shared an elevator with Pauly Shore--but none of them was nearly this interactive. I'm not sure what I believe about the afterlife (I'm not even sure what I believe about this life--especially since I now have Scientologists sending me sophistic hate mail) but I can't help but wonder how, of all dead musicians, my student ended up with Jeff Porcaro as her personal ghost. I asked her if she had any idea.
"Maybe he just likes my fan," she said, "but he saved my life."
I couldn't find an argument for that.
- Tod Goldberg (originally published in the Las Vegas Mercury)
Captain Kirk Loves The VIC-20
Fantastic 80s commerical for the Commodore VIC-20, with William Shatner calling it "The wonder computer of the 1980s!" Look at the way Shatner is standing at the start of the ad. Must have been awkward.
I still think those old computer games were better than what we have today.
- Bob Sassone
[via Pinky's Paperhaus]
I still think those old computer games were better than what we have today.
- Bob Sassone
[via Pinky's Paperhaus]
Professor Barnhardt's Journal, Version 2.0
Welcome to the new Professor Barnhardt's Journal.
I'll make this brief, because there are probably only three people in the world who are truly interested in why a magazine would switch over to blog format, and one of them is me. In short, it will be updated more often and have a little more consistency to it. Plus I hear that "blogs" are all the rage with the kids these days.
Don't worry, nothing else is changing. We'll still have the essays, humor, interviews, fiction, and lists we've always had. But now we'll also have daily links and commentary too. Let me know what you think (and if you're looking for old issues of PBJ, click on the "Old PBJ" link on the right).
- Bob Sassone
I'll make this brief, because there are probably only three people in the world who are truly interested in why a magazine would switch over to blog format, and one of them is me. In short, it will be updated more often and have a little more consistency to it. Plus I hear that "blogs" are all the rage with the kids these days.
Don't worry, nothing else is changing. We'll still have the essays, humor, interviews, fiction, and lists we've always had. But now we'll also have daily links and commentary too. Let me know what you think (and if you're looking for old issues of PBJ, click on the "Old PBJ" link on the right).
- Bob Sassone
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