Necessary Escape-Ism

It certainly has been a mind-numbing week here in Washington, and I've only just started drinking heavily. TGIF. The last meetings at the Senate with Alberto Gonzales, the White House subpoenaed, found in contempt, now a Homeland Security bill that will probably be shot down just to make the Dems look bad.

Jon Stewart (it takes an outsider) summed it up perfectly by taking much needed hits from an oxygen tank in reaction to Gonzales' nebulous answers before the Judiciary Committee. The air is thin, indeed here. And it is hot and muggy, and we have parties to go to, dressed smartly and talking clever when we need to be home on the couch recuperating. I was at a party last night blathering to people who have to cover the president word for meaningless word, how I could not get through 30 seconds of Bush's speech yesterday on CSPAN radio. It was the hot air of IGNAHEIMOUSNESS. (a by-product of doucheoussness).

In the spirit of escape-ism and the remembrance of good times, courtesy of YouTube I present...not Mike Gravel, he's good though.

Andy Kaufman on Late Night with David Letterman (remember when that show was edgy?)
Kaufman considered himself a song and dance man. Not a comedian or "performance artist" like many will tell you. These are two excellent examples of his work.


and Andy as Tony Clifton on the Dinah Shore Show. This is probably the only clip you will see of Clifton without his sunglasses. As you can see, it is most definitely Kaufman and not Bob Zmuda. Kaufman has a much better falsetto even trying to sing badly.

Tony rocks Dinah

Big problems on the LL Train

Damn! The blonde look is finally starting to grow on me, I get it now. It only works on Lindsay when she's speeding out of her gourd. It's Manson girl for the 21st century. (She'd totally buy his schpeil! Can you imagine the orgies at the Lohan Mansion? Dina gettin' all up in there...)

Sorry, y'know I'v been rooting for this girl for a couple of years now, being one of those rare Disney kids with a bit of personality and pathos. It's hard to differentiate the typical star-machine creature from one that has inherent star quality. I don't know. LL doesn't have a great track record, just the one good film Julie and I are both fans of her, or it her chestial region specifically? You judge:



None of this assures any kind of success or quality in what stands as Hollywood today. There are no George Cukors, Frank Capras or John Fords operating. She's lucky she did one Robert Altman film, hell, she'll be lucky to even work again. I mean, there's nothing wrong with Paris Hilton that a Chauffer and a shot of Penicillin won't fix. It's a bad scene over there, kids. Find yourself a nice office job. Stay away from Hollywood and Army recruiters. That's the best advice I have to give.

Follow up on the flip-flops

Her'es a cautionary tale, avoid the Wal-Mart thong sandals. Even though they're under $3 and really ummm... cute, so to speak in that Made-in China way, they can seriously give you chemical burns even if your'e not allergic to certain polymers. I won't include pictures from the site because they're kinda...horrible.

The Capitol of Douche-dom

The summer of douche culture continues. I may be on the liberal side, so I tend to try to understand what Democrats are up to in the Senate, but this slumber party debate was bullshit.
SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!

The idea was to make Republicans look bad, and to try and convince other, not just the 4 they knew would vote for withdrawal from Iraq, to defect. Didn't happen, everyone ended looking like a gaseous bag of douche and us taxpayers are stuck for a goddamn takeout pizza bill. Hope you guys got heartburn.

I understand they have to keep up anti-war momentum by holding these motions and writing up Amendments. But why bother if you know you don't have the votes. Party lines die hard. You assholes missed the boat when you approved the supplemental. And these Republican jackasses making the same noise, purely driven by the '08 elections, all to no avail.

So Bush's numbers are going to continue to fall, big deal. He got what he wanted, more troops to do whatever. I don't know exactly what the strategy is, but I hope it really is something other than conquer and hold. I'll leave it up to the generals. If nothing substantive can be told of this surge until September 15, so be it. Civilian oversight is necessary, but they can chill out for 8 fucking weeks. Can't wait for them to go on vacation.

There is good news, however, in Iraq, as far as their government goes. The Sunnis and Al Sadr's Shiites are back in Parliament after a boycott, so at least they have a full room of guys to voice their grievances, or simply express their lust for power. If you're going to have a bipartisan democracy, these guys have to show up. If American military can get out of their way and not undermine Al Maliki in the process of pursuing Al Quaeda, they could be alright. Maybe not. We'll see.

Incentive to read on

Bar Skanks Announce Plans To Kiss

Summer do's, don'ts and DOUCHEBAGGERY.

Since my last rather expensive trip to Macy's for an age appropriate summer ensemble, I have been ruminating if I have gone too far in the style department. Sure, I know I am still cool in my own mind, with the mental reminders of my creativeness and continued aspirations to not only do well for myself, but to improve the world around me as well any way that I can.

But when I look in the mirror I see someone who looks longer in the tooth, more conservative, yet still goofy enough to pass for a really cool dude. But if you didn't know me personally...would YOU think I was just an average DOUCHE?????

(shudder!)

Let me tell ya something peoples. There is no age limit for douche-baggedness. You kids think you're so cutting edge and that, yes as generations go, this one is pretty goddamn easily co-opted. But when you're young, you make mistakes, and you might think you're all hot and stuff, brother, you smell! Thus I have an ethos of of humanity to uphold and have recited my Anti-Doucheas Mantra in privacy with due dilligence, to maintain my pride and essence, lest I descend into a depraved netherworld of those who pop their collars and act stupidly for the amusement of those they wish to be their friends.

Having not been to a Spring Break getaway or regular frat party, the line of demarcation for me seems to be the madras shorts. I was definitely in the market for shorts (with an extra inch to accommodate my growing waistline). Watching a lot of The Learning Channel had led me to the realization that an upgrade was necessary, staying within budget, but primarily finding the right look and advancing my style were all the points to achieve. Green and camo cargo shorts were standard fare, already in my closet, so there are two ways to go from there:
DOWN- J. Crew style khaki or white boat deck shorts
UP- Apparently the checkered Madras.

My gay...er...neighborhood is the perfect place to analyze how these items look on a person, the average consumer that might wear such an item. Now perhaps just looking at people and deducing their douchieness might be perceived as slightly prejudicial, but I can't really conclude this as an absolute.
However, several weeks ago as I was sitting in the park I saw a guy slowly walking around the perimeter several times wearing:
A ball cap of some kind, probably blue with Corona logo (not sure, didn't want to make eye contact).
White T-shirt with Corona logo.
Yellow pajama-type pants with blue Corona logos.
Velcro sandals with white socks.
Headphones, plugged into backpack.

ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY THE DOUCHE-BAGGIEST PERSON I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE!!!
I should note that he was a 20-something, blond, white, athletic-type male.
In time, I shall have to do a painting featuring this apparition.

We all can remember times like the 70s, the 80s, even the early 90s when people just threw stuff together that looked quite hideous to some, but to a particular group might be considered somewhat chic. For some reason the 40s, 50s and 60s everybody seemed to look really good, regardless of social standing. The 30s everyone looked just worn out from the Depression and maybe that sowed the seeds of come-as-you-are.

But fashion has become a statement as to how important you think you are and how IN with your friends you want to be because there is safety in groups where people dress the same. This has created a culture in itself, and it seems to be coming to a head this summer. As Americans and those who wish to be Americans are fighting a ridiculous war in Iraq, they are dying every day to protect the rights and maintain the lifestyles of free-spending DOUCHEBAGS.
The culture itself is being widely analyzed in several publications of note:

http://men.style.com/details/features/full?id=content_5545
http://www.washingtoncitypaper.com/display.php?id=2008

and unmercifully skewered on the internet:

Hot chicks with douchebags
A deconstrution of Oliver, prototypical douche
My public service message of the day, as a reward to you after reading this rant, is how to avoid looking like a Douche, but still reward yourself with a few of the finer things in life in an un-obstemporaneous way.

Now there are the natural things to avoid like cell-phone related behavior, particularly using a bluetooth device in public. But I know for some people that might be too hard, phones can still be considered a necessity, so I'll stick to clothes here. Guys, avoid the following:


Golf Shirts.
These really went out with the 80s. To pay $75 for a fucking Izod shirt, I don't care if it's a new logo, the colors are fucking hideous, hard on the eyes. They're stupid! Unless you're wearing it in the SUV and safely back in the suburbs, don't come near my city wearing this shit.
My preference is blank or appropriately ironic T-shirts, a pocket tee is great. For more formal stuff, a cool button down Western shirt is kick-ass cool, yo.


Madras Shorts.
I really don't know what it is about them. Every single guy I see wearing them puts off this douche-vibeyness, it is unmistakable! These dense plaid patterns were a mainstay in the edgier days of the 60s and really set off the polyester well. Whether on vacation or on the golf course, it just seemed right at the time. That look however, is sorely dated. The skinny plaid pants made a brief revival during the 90s when grunge bands incorporated them into their flannel regalia and I liked the laid back look. That didn't last.
In full disclosure I did purchase a sort of micro-pattern gray-green item that I felt to be an advance of style for me. The jury is still out, my girlfriend likes 'em, says I can pull off madras shorts. Thank goodness for her, my strong legs and a cool calf tattoo doesn't hurt either.


Mandals
Girls feet: Nice. They look good, they are fetishized by many.
Guy's feet: Historically, they stink. You learn that in high school. They're pale and grody. There's hair on the knuckles, guys never get pedicures so there is no reason to see them. Now, the Romans invented a sandal that covers the toes while gaps in the straps provide proper ventilation and comfort. I have a pair of Timberlands that have served it's purpose well and I have not embarrassed myself exposing my...well, somewhat attractive feet, one was scarred in a childhood accident, but they don't look that bad.

To one's individual taste there should be a balance to the degree of how items coordinate. If you coordinate too much you look like catalog schmuck (male model you are not, sir). As I have spent years looking rather rumpled it is a habit that I don't wish to completely abandon. So, slightly rumpled yet coordinated is how I'd describe my sense of style. I have items from various major labels but don't wish to have any particular loyalty with one major exception.


The Gap has the coolest selection of boxer shorts on the market. It's a quality garment, comfortable and you can't beat the array of aquatic themes, alternated with vintage patterns. And as the seasons change, the patterns change, the old ones go on sale for $3.99. Put that up against Polo/Ralph Lauren or Calvin Klein and it's no contest. Variety is the spice of life and your day might be saved with the subliminal power of the swordfish, hula girls, or lobsters (not shown, those are beetles) adorning your undies. I swear, if I had a backyard I would host Barbecues in these things.

Now I won't get into people's behavior, assholes will be assholes who have screaming babies who will grow up to be as obnoxious as there parent. But before this negativity becomes folly, consider your conscience. Take care of it and don't let the influences of douchebaggery in general infect your sense of self. Be an individual first and foremost and you will be above the pack.

Have a fun summer, boys and girls!

My 38th 4th.

I used to have an odd tradition for the Fourth of July, to go along with my odd life. Since music was my primary avocation, and as my fellow crustoids informed me "Shit I ain't goin' out man...fuckin' lunatics out there!" I would stay at home, get baked and do a 4-track demo, usually titled "Independence Jam" or "The Fourth". All unlistenable, but with an inspired beat.

So here's what I observed on my outing in DC. Got on bike trail, Arlington via Georgetown-Key Bridge. By 1pm I observed many suburbanites already set up along the waterfront with canopies, grills, tents and all the fixins. Primed for an all day food-a-thon, with symphonic music piped in.


Passing by Jefferson Memorial, I nearly blew past the security presence which I found soon afterward was quite ubiquitous on the mall. Eventually I made it around to the parade route, but apparently it was the ass of the parade snake.
There was a cool Eagle mimi-float, followed by the Falun Gong corps and their massive marching band. Then at the very end were the beloved Hare Krishna people, which I observed in close-up, a very gay man riding with. I didn't see any floats celebrating Iraq's "Independence".

The Smithsonian Folklife fest was still kicking. Good folk and blues from Virginia, more cool weird sounds from the Mekong Delta, some fine whiskey-infused honey from Northern Ireland. Wolfgang Timmons at the Hirschorn: pretty edgy stuff by Smithsonian Standards.

Came home, had a sandwich. At my shift (it still is Wednesday) at American Art Museum I hear of the Tornado wreaking havoc on the mall. The storm seems to have passed. Soon it is back to the mall for fireworks. Hooray.