Dr. David Thorpe of Something Awful is once again dead-on. His love for the scenesters shines in every passionate click of the keyboard…. This is what a real punk rocker looks like…
Archive for November, 2005
I know that come this weekend I’ll be drinking another toast to the death of a special creature that brought joy to those who knew him. I’ve done this several times in the past, usually when I find out that some great musical hero of mine has gone to the light (I think Johnny Cash may have been the last one) or someone I used to know and remembered fondly. But this, this touches me in a different way. I can’t help but laugh till I cry when I look at Sam. And that’s a really great emotion, as Dolly Parton (!) so wisely says in Steel Magnolias, “Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion.” Mine too, Dolly. So I raise my glass in thanks to you Sam. You da man!
Man. Talk about jumping the shark. The Daily Pundit posts this little gem (where Quick obtained this audio file I’ll never know…) that is proof-positive of the shenanigans over at CNN. I guess all the faux concern and perfectly coiffed anchors couldn’t instill the sense of security over there that would prevent them from protesting too much, as The Bard might say. I feel kinda bad for them really. But damn, man. What supervisor let an operator do this sort of thing? The operator was fired by the way, which, in my opinion is the true tragedy. He was just riding for the brand, ya know? But they cut him loose quick. I guess you can think it but not talk about it. I don’t know if that’s tact or just plain loosey-goosey political gesturing. It just doesn’t feel smooth to me…
A friend sent me this heartbreaking link to Cindy Sheehan, the woman who’s crusade against the war in Iraq (and more specifically against the Bush administration) has made her a hero in some eyes. The leftist activists (I don’t know what else to call them — that is all they really seem to have in common within their group) rallied around this woman’s story — a son dead in Iraq and her projected rage onto an administration that she shadowboxed for the death of her son. And she was everywhere, this tragic figure. Chaining herself to the White House gate, protesting outside the President’s ranch in Texas. She was pissed you see.
And then, as is always the case with the showmanship of American activism (sad but true) she lost her following once she began to really side with those who would martyr her. Once she became as rabid as they, she couldn’t get heard. the pupil becomes the teacher and that job has already been filled.
So here she sits waiting for her disciples to come and have her sign a copy of the book in which she writes her story with all it’s rage and misguided blame. I wonder if they ever came.