Well not everyone thinks the Slanket is the best thing since sliced individually wrapped processed Kraft Singles.
However - remember he is making fun of the Snuggie, not the Slanket. The Slanket is better. Much much better.
Thanks to Jenny for sending this to me.
Showing posts with label Missing the point. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Missing the point. Show all posts
Friday, February 6, 2009
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Stop ruining my shows!
Very small, yet very heartfelt, rant against the Bible (Entertainment Weekly): stop ruining my shows.
Sometimes, we love waiting for the DVD box set when watching some shows. Sometimes we just discover an awesome show a bit late, and we are furiously Netflixing (yup, it is a verb now) past seasons to catch up. Sometimes we DVR the show with our genuinely awesome franken-DVR that I put together with my very own hands. Sometimes we are just not watching a show just yet, and we will get to watch it some day in a not too distant future. We usually unwrap the box set in less than two years after we got it -hello, Friday Night Lights- but we will get down to it.
Dear prophets in EW: stop fucking spoiling shows in your magazine and website over and over again. We are trying to get to watch the simply legendary, absolutely awesome, insanely cool Battlestar Galactica on DVD, and it has basically been impossible to get the last episodes in true unspoiled, virginal form. Right now those fuckers have a big ass spoiler in the front page of their website, top right, boxed; it is the first place your eyes land on. They have spoiled massively important plot points in photograph captions in the magazine, season previews, season reviews and even on DVD box set reviews.
It is an awesome show, and believe me, we will still watch our last season 4.0 DVD before catching up with the episodes on DVR and watch the finale at the same time as everyone else. But still, dude. Seriously, you had to spoil all those Cylons in a fucking caption? Seriously?
I blame Phil Collins.
Sometimes, we love waiting for the DVD box set when watching some shows. Sometimes we just discover an awesome show a bit late, and we are furiously Netflixing (yup, it is a verb now) past seasons to catch up. Sometimes we DVR the show with our genuinely awesome franken-DVR that I put together with my very own hands. Sometimes we are just not watching a show just yet, and we will get to watch it some day in a not too distant future. We usually unwrap the box set in less than two years after we got it -hello, Friday Night Lights- but we will get down to it.
Dear prophets in EW: stop fucking spoiling shows in your magazine and website over and over again. We are trying to get to watch the simply legendary, absolutely awesome, insanely cool Battlestar Galactica on DVD, and it has basically been impossible to get the last episodes in true unspoiled, virginal form. Right now those fuckers have a big ass spoiler in the front page of their website, top right, boxed; it is the first place your eyes land on. They have spoiled massively important plot points in photograph captions in the magazine, season previews, season reviews and even on DVD box set reviews.
It is an awesome show, and believe me, we will still watch our last season 4.0 DVD before catching up with the episodes on DVR and watch the finale at the same time as everyone else. But still, dude. Seriously, you had to spoil all those Cylons in a fucking caption? Seriously?
I blame Phil Collins.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Rocking fake plastic guitars and not getting it
I will probably elaborate on this subject a bit more later, as it is something that is very close to my heart, but both Nicholas Carr and Rob Horning (via Andrew Sullivan) need to be seriously smacked down from that very high horse they ride around. I love rampant snobbery as the best of us; I am happy to be labeled a music Nazi, living up there in the Ivory Tower watching seventies movies and proclaiming they are "alluring", "elegant" and "brilliant post-Marxist deconstructions of the male ethos" if needed.
But seriously, critizing Guitar Hero by quoting the post-consumption theorizing of Jon Elster? I know Jon Elster, sir (seriously, I do. I told you I am thick-rimmed glasses intellectual) and he will call you bullshit in that statement. They really don´t get the point.
Guitar Hero (and its awesome, badass, glorious full-band successor, Rock Band) it is not music for people that don´t have time for learning to play music. It is not a cheap, fast food version of glory for morons; melody and rythm for dilettantes, those guys too lazy and lacking the level of true awesome to learn to play guitar (or drums) for real.
Why? Well for starters there is a whole bunch of people out there that will never be able to learn to play a real instrument. I love music; I have a ton of it. I workship all the right bands and musicians. I am a member of the "in" crowd, card carrying hipster armed with iPod and Gigabytes of awesome music. Despite the fact that I fart good taste, I am completely, utterly, totally devoid of music talent. I can not hit a note to save my life. My sense of rythm is non-existant. My fingers are as good as iogurt when trying to strum a guitar. I can´t follow a drum pattern even if it was 10 beats per minute. You get the idea.
What someone as musically inept as myself has left to fullfill his music fantasies (Glory! Fans! Arenas!) is either rocking out in the shower (sad) or getting into the fake plastic guitar business. It is that simple. Those games are basically a better, more fun way to enjoy music; not just listening, but playing along even if you are completely talentless. You focus and the music and let go; yes, it is just a game, but it feel awesome. If turned all the way to eleven, you do it with three friends, in a friggin´ band, and call it Rock Band, possibly the best party game of all time this side of Wii Sports.
Of course, having fun is probably not good enough for those that crave the pain of learning. It is not music if you don´t make your fingers bleed. Whatever. I will never be able to learn for real; let me enjoy my cheap imitation.
But seriously, critizing Guitar Hero by quoting the post-consumption theorizing of Jon Elster? I know Jon Elster, sir (seriously, I do. I told you I am thick-rimmed glasses intellectual) and he will call you bullshit in that statement. They really don´t get the point.Guitar Hero (and its awesome, badass, glorious full-band successor, Rock Band) it is not music for people that don´t have time for learning to play music. It is not a cheap, fast food version of glory for morons; melody and rythm for dilettantes, those guys too lazy and lacking the level of true awesome to learn to play guitar (or drums) for real.
Why? Well for starters there is a whole bunch of people out there that will never be able to learn to play a real instrument. I love music; I have a ton of it. I workship all the right bands and musicians. I am a member of the "in" crowd, card carrying hipster armed with iPod and Gigabytes of awesome music. Despite the fact that I fart good taste, I am completely, utterly, totally devoid of music talent. I can not hit a note to save my life. My sense of rythm is non-existant. My fingers are as good as iogurt when trying to strum a guitar. I can´t follow a drum pattern even if it was 10 beats per minute. You get the idea.
What someone as musically inept as myself has left to fullfill his music fantasies (Glory! Fans! Arenas!) is either rocking out in the shower (sad) or getting into the fake plastic guitar business. It is that simple. Those games are basically a better, more fun way to enjoy music; not just listening, but playing along even if you are completely talentless. You focus and the music and let go; yes, it is just a game, but it feel awesome. If turned all the way to eleven, you do it with three friends, in a friggin´ band, and call it Rock Band, possibly the best party game of all time this side of Wii Sports.
Of course, having fun is probably not good enough for those that crave the pain of learning. It is not music if you don´t make your fingers bleed. Whatever. I will never be able to learn for real; let me enjoy my cheap imitation.
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