Evil Tracey

(One of our clients said he hated the Globe and Mail because it was too socialist. I'd hate to think what he'd consider conservative. I like the Globe and Mail. That's where I used to get my daily Far Side, Bizarro, and Dilbert fixes. The National Post is dominated by right-wing ideologues and has no comic section.)

Anyways, the Georgia Straight printed an article on five ways to improve the Globe and Mail. I guess number six is nuking Leah McLaren, who is a useless no-talent who couldn't write her way out of a paper bag. Not surprisingly, she got her job at the Globe because she had connections.

Oh, and I wish the book reviews section were a separate section again. I like the Saturday paper, because I like to read book reviews.

...for Sarah Palin has resigned. Hopefully, she'll stay away from the rest of us. Far, far away. Maybe if the rest of the world is lucky, someone will run her over with a snow machine. Or she'll get run over by a herd of rampaging caribou.

Sadly, I don't think she's going to fade into obscurity. She's too much of a media whore. Hopefully, the most exposure she'll get is an appearance on "I'm A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here."

Alain de Botton received a crappy review on his latest book from the New York Times. He responded as follows:

"I will hate you till the day I die and wish you nothing but ill will in every career move you make. I will be watching with interest and schadenfreude."

Wow. This is almost as good as Anne Rice's "You are interrogating the text from the wrong perspective. Indeed, you aren't even reading it." Only I can actually make some use from this quote. Maybe I will use it on the Other Hot and Anointed One, Lord Thingy. The original hot and anointed one was:

Jitcrunch.aspx

In other news, the Zidane and Friends soccer match will be on Saturday, and the American Idols tour rolls into town next week. I wish that the promoters of these shows had joined forces and combined the two. Danny Gokey could sing the French song "Coup de Boule," and then Zinedine Zidane could join him onstage and give him an actual coup de boule. (Of course, Gokey can only wish that he were a fraction as hot and anointed as Zizou. No one has written a book called La melancholie de Gokey, have they?)

So the Jonas Brothers (whoever they may be) will be in town this week. And Princess Jorbacca will be opening for them. I wish I could go and throw something at Princess Jorbacca.

The Idols tour comes to Vancouver next week. I didn't want to pay $78 to see Hokey Gokey, so I'm not going. I'll bet that Lord Thingy is taking his kids to see Gokey.

Paula Abdul has a Twitter feed. She showed up at rehearsals for the Idols' summer tour the other day, and this is one of the things that she had to say:

speaking of last night...danny gokey and matt g. can really pole dance- who knew?! lol
about 23 hours ago from mobile web

I just got some disturbing visual images in my head. I hope that she meant that Hokey Gokey can dance with Polish people, or that he's good at Polish folk dancing.

'Fess up: What do you do that's bad for the environment?
Sponsored by One Million Acts of Green brought to you by Cisco.

• I use commercial cleaning products and room deodorizers.
• I occasionally use plastic bags.
• Sometimes I throw recyclables in the garbage.
  
• I eat donuts.
  

Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson died today. Both of them were key figures in my misguided youth. I remember when the Farrah 'do was THE hairstyle (although I actually didn't know anyone who had one), and the poster of her in the red bathing suit. As for Michael Jackson, I remember confusing the Jacksons and the Osmonds. I also remember "Off the Wall," and yes, I used to have a copy of "Thriller."

Here's a take on the significance of Farrah's and Michael's deaths. Yes, the icons of my misguided youth are starting to die. I guess it'll really hit me when one of the Osmonds passes away.

Michael Jackson was once married to Elvis Presley's daughter Lisa Marie. Coincidentally, he died of "cardiac arrest," the same thing that Elvis died of.

(I still think that Michael Jackson squandered his immense talent, though.)

Metro Vancouver will be composting kitchen scraps. While the idea is good in principle, it's going to fail because of one basic fact: PEOPLE ARE STUPID. They are going to put stuff in there that shouldn't go in there, and our vermin population is going to skyrocket. Oh, and the city's going to stink, too.

Oh, and Vancouverites are particularly stupid. Take this one woman that I saw cycling on the path between the convention centre and Stanley Park. Please. How many stupid things can one count here?

1. She was riding her bike on the pedestrian side of the path, where there are runners and walkers and little kids.
2. She wasn't wearing a helmet.
3. She was carrying a baby (unhelmeted) in a cloth sling while riding her bike on the wrong side of the path.

D'OH!

I subscribe to Powell's Review A Day, and this is the review of the day. Advanced Elvis Course? Awesome title.

It has been thirty-two years since Elvis Presley died at age 42, a bloated victim of prescription pills and Nutter Butters...

Obviously, the reviewer is channelling Lord Thingy.

Elvis Presley is such an icon because of the many interpretations to which he has been subject. He is so entangled in history and myth that he has become virtually unknowable. On one hand, he was a pioneering rock and roll singer; on the other, he was a gifted gospel singer and by all accounts a believer. He was a symbol of sin to his contemporaries for the way he shook his hips when singing, but today's hip-hop artists regularly grab their crotches while they perform much more suggestive songs than he ever imagined. He began his career as a rebel stirring up America's youth, but he ended it as a Las Vegas lounge singer, crooning for the middle-aged masses. In short, Elvis is largely a blank screen onto which legions of fans, music critics and academicians have projected their beliefs.

And Lord Thingy's dislike is not of Elvis, but of music. Or maybe of people who like Elvis.)

It sounds like this book will cover some of the same ground covered in Greil Marcus's Dead Elvis. (Another title which Lord Thingy must have thought up.) Except in poetry form. And the author got to visit Graceland.

I will have to buy it, and pick up an extra copy for Lord Thingy so that he can enjoy it too!

Advanced Elvis Course

C. A. Conrad

So now Papa Archuleta's little visit to the massage parlour has warranted a TV movie. Enjoy!