Thoughtless for the Day

"There's no female Mozart for the same reason that there's no female Jack The Ripper."

- Camile Paglia

Is it possible that there's no female Lenny Bruce for the same reason that there's no female Carrot Top? A few weeks back, in an issue of Vanity Fair, Chris Hitchens (perhaps to get a rise out of a large segment of the population: that is to say just to be Chris Hitchens asked the question "Why aren't women funny?" Read the article and see for yourself whether or not Hitch has a point.

If Chris does has a point, it couldn't have been reinforced any better than by Laura Kipnis' attempt to debunk his thesis in a piece for Slate. As proof positive of the comedic achievements of people with two Y chromosomes, Ms. Kipris (which is a funny name - sort of ) offers up the book Him Her Him Again The End of Him by Patricia Marx (AKA "Sucko Marx". If you think that was too harsh for never having read her book, just continue on). Kipris then offers the following side-splitting examples Marx's wit:

[On William Empson] "Don't you think a better title would be Seven or Eight Types of Ambiguity?"

and

"Hypochondriacs make me sick."

The Fuck you say. Look, I love a dry, intellectuall joke as much as the next guy (but appearntly not as much as the next gal seeing as how I laughed all the way through Tristan Shandy which, coincidently, Vienna found not the least bit funny), but those are the sort of jokes that you'd expect from a freshmen at an agricultural college... for the retarded.

So, if Marx's book (Das Crapital?) has all the comic potential of a trip to a burn unit what could be the real reason why Laura Kipnis chose Him Her Him Again The End of Him when there are so many funnier books written by women (Toni Morrison's Beloved, for example) gathering dust on the shelves of her local Costco? As it turns out, Eugene Lobello, Him Her Him Again The End of Him the character whom the heroine falls for, is a "thinly disguised" version of Kipnis' real life former boyfriend. Ohhhkaaaay. We get the picture. It's a revenge piece.

Had Ms. Kipnis' scribbling had contained itself to taking a swipe at her ex-beauzo, the piece might've actually been somewhat readable; unfortunately, Laura soldiered on her indictment of Chris Hitchen's theory. Now, there are plenty of brilliantly funny women, Wanda Sykes for example, whose names you could invoke in an argument against Hitchen's premise. Surprisingly, Kipnis actually chooses to quote a funny woman: Sarah Silverman.

"I was raped by a doctor. Which is so bittersweet for a Jewish girl."

It may not be Silverman's funniest joke (that honor goes to "I love you more than bees love honey / I love you more than Jews love money / I love you more than Asians love math / I love you more than Puerto Ricans hate baths") but it's pretty damn good. That's why I was so stunned that Kipnis got it wrong. Sure the little note at the end of the story says " An earlier version of this article quoted Sarah Silverman's joke about being raped by a doctor imprecise" but what it fails to tell you is that the word that Kipnis got wrong was bittersweet: the word on which the whole joke turns. Men, raise your hands if you've ever sat there wincing while a woman butchered a joke. Yeah, me too.

Let me tell you 'bout your blood, bamboo kid. It ain't Coca Cola: It's rice.

- The Clash, Straight to Hell

There's no arguing with evolution (unless you're a retarded, snake-handling, monkey-fucking fundie) which has caused men and women to develop significant differences in their brains. This isn't to say that women aren't as funny as men, it's just that men and women are funny in different ways: Compare and contrast the acrid kneecap-breaking quips of Dorothy Parker with the verbal Kamikaze attack of George Carlin and you'll begin to get an idea of how men and women are funny in different ways. Now, here's an interesting experiment: Compare and contrast the painfully unfunny Whoopee Goldberg with the human shit-stain that is Gallagherand you might come to the conclusion that, while both men and women can be funny in different ways, they seem to be unfunny in exactly the same way: by sucking goat balls.

What does it all mean? Fuck if I know. Let's groove on the comedy styling of sixty-year-old former heroin addict and convict Dr. Jose Luis de Jesus Miranda - the Hispanic Jesus (No, not "Hey Zeus" - "Gee-zuz"):

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 12:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I'm taking the night off to catch up on some reading. I'm currently sinking my teeth into Patrick Cockburn's Occupation: War and Resistance in Iraq. It's been called the best book written so far about the war. I'm about halfway through and I'd have to agree with that statement.

Winning their hearts and minds:

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 06:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Boy howdy, Bosnian boating-enthusiasts. It's Wednesday and that can only mean one thing (well, two if you count "the unsettling knowledge that Mayor John Street is sporting underwear labeled "Sunday"): It's time to recap last night's episode of Bad Girls Club.

Let's start with the big news: Ripsi's back! Actually, Ripsi is sort of back. That is, she's not back in the house, but interviews with the inebriated Iranian have been randomly edited into the show. It's almost as if the producers realized what a mistake they'd made in allowing the Baroness of Blackouts to be kicked out of the house. Oddly, Ripsi's hair is now brown. At first I thought that this was just an attempt to get her back on the show by convincing the other girls that she's actually Ripsi's cousin "Nipsi".

The other big story is, of course, that Zara is frightened by African-Americans. OK, I some that some back story is called for. Ty and Leslie invited Aimee and Zara to a predominately Black club. Before she even got to the door, Zara hopped into a cab and took off stating that, having grown up sheltered in an almost entirely White community, she would feel uncomfortable. Wow, Zara's led a sheltered existence? Who would've believed that? In other news: The Iraq War may just be a little more complicated than the public was originally led to believe.

Oh, and the four blond whores decided to "do something crazy", so they walked around Hollywood dressed like Corky on Acid.

Ripsi 4Ever!

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 07:03 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Regular readers of RATYHTL are naturally no strangers to the concept of Wrong. By wrong I, of course, don't mean "incorrect". No, what we're talking about here is wrong as a synonym for "fucked up" as in "That's just plain wrong" combined with the slow, listless shaking of one's head from side-to-side.

Some things are wrong is a relatively fun way, as in "Oh, that is wrong." The fact that, for almost a week now, the ancient Greek playwright Euripides continues to hold the title of "The Baddest" on the Bad Girls Club webite (Read the blog! View the pictures!) falls into this category.

Up next on the sliding scale of wrongness would be "That is sooooo wrong". Did you know that, following the US invasion of Iraq, control of the Iraqi stock market was turned over to a twenty-four-year-old American whose sole qualification was that his parents had contributed heavily to the Republican Party? This young fellow forgot to renew the lease on the building the market was housed in, forcing the stock exchange to remain closed for a year. Now that is sooooo wrong.

Finally, there's "really, really, really wrong" or, as I like to call it, "wrong cubed". Up until today, nothing I've seen has occasioned the usage of wrong cubed. And then I saw this:

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 06:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Pay close attention to this post, kinderpopes because, just a little bit down the page, I'm going to tell you exactly what your mission in life is.

From an evolutionary/biologic perspective I am an undisputed failure. This is because, despite having "mated" at least once that I know of (twice, if you count an uncomfortably close encounter in an elevator with Blixa Bargeld and Jared from those Subway ads), I have yet to produce any progeny: and I don't have any kids, either. This is fine with me as my failure to succeed in this are is nicely balance by the fact that I am an unequivocal success as a human being.

I'm not bragging. I'm just stating a simple fact. Just like the fact that I look good wearing pretty much any hat (my friend Dan "The Serpent" will back me on this). Also, you have to keep in mind that it's really easy to be a successful human being. All you really need to do is make a daily effort to move from superstition towards reason and occasionally try to learn something new and encourage others to do the same. That's it. That's all there is to it. That's your mission in life. So I don't want to see anything in the comments section about how the way to be a successful human being is to respect others, or leave the Earth a better place, or free all of the children trapped in the dungeons of Neverland Ranch. Sure, those are all noble pursuits, but if you just make a daily effort to move from superstition towards reason and occasionally try to learn something new and encourage others to do the same, everything else will eventually fall into place.

One thing I would like to see more of in the comments section is posts like the one made by Suburban Dad on Thursday alerting us all to the fact that Sylvia Browne continues to be a titanic failure as a human being. This time it turns out that Sylvia seems to have missed the mark just a wee bit in the Shawn Hornbeck case. Appearing on the Montel Williams Show (What? You were expecting Meet The Press?), the psychic moose inaccurately informed the audience that Shaw was dead and that his body would be found between two boulders (Dr. Freud to the white, banana-shaped courtesy phone). This would've been bad enough on its own, but when you factor in the fact that Shawn's parents were in the audience, it veers sharply into "indefensible by any stretch of the imagination" territory. Now toss in a catalyst, let's say Sylvia's alleged offer to help Shawn's folks recover his lifeless body for a mere $1,400 per hour, and it would be time to talk about burning Sylvia in effigy if a dummy that large wouldn't greatly contribute to global warming.

Now, you might think that it would be pretty much impossible to top Sylvia Browne's Hornbeck-inspired fuck up, wouldn't you? Enter men's four-time freestyle failure as a human being champion and Colbert punching bag Bill "Dibblenuts" O'Reilly who had this to say about why Shawn hadn't attempted to flee his captor*:

"I think when it all comes down, what's going to happen is, there was an element here that this kid liked about the circumstances … The situation here for this kid looks to me to be a lot more fun than what he had under his old parents."

Yeah, I guess that daily regiment off anal rape was pleasantly offset by quiet moments alone with the X-box. Since we Americans can never seem to get enough irony in our diet, you'll be happy to know that O'Reilly \is scheduled to speak at the center for Missing and Exploited Children later in the month.

*Those of you who caught Colbert's appearance on "The Factor" might remember, at the end of the segment, Colbert saying "And thanks for not bringing up that thing we agreed not to discuss; you know, that kid."

Epilogue:

While searing the tubes of the internets for info about Sylvia Browne-Stain's involvement in the Hornbeck case, I came across these folks, many of whom seem to be under the impression that Sylvia's Psychic Shenanigans are ruining the credibility of all those real clairvoyants out there.

PS. Euripides continues to be The Baddest Girl in the World!

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 09:57 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Thanks to you, the readers of RATYHTL, a dead Greek playwright is now officially the baddest girl on the internets.

Which is all the more amazing when you consider the fact that "baddest" isn't even a word. But now is not the time to rest on our laurels: even if those laurels have an adjustable sleep number. There is still so much work left undone. Those of you who haven't already (from this point onward to be known as "effete traitors") need to immediately go to the Bad Girls Club site, find Euripides' home page (this shouldn't be too hard as he is currently the first face you see) and click on the "completely evil" button just below his award winning video. If you've already been to Euripides' page, go there again! And keep going: Again, and again, and again. Keep going until Euripides' page is the most visited one on the site. While you're there, be sure to check out the blog entries. Ripsi 4Ever!

And in other news...

Aid or Invade XIII is now available in print and 1's and 0's format. I'm hoping the nickname "Dibblenuts" will catch on.

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 07:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

You people have no idea of the sacrifices I make just so you'll have something to read while you should be working. And we're not just talking about spending countless hours painting tiny plastic Roman soldiers here. Nooooo! If I hadn't stayed up my past my bedtime last night, many of you would be completely ignorant as to the latest goings-on inside the Bad Girls Club house. If I hadn't been willing to forgo a little shuteye, some of you might have gone the rest of your lives without ever knowing that Ty is bisexual, Deann met some guy name Jonathon who never returned her calls, or that Zara's beau-of-the-moment, Tomik, hit on Aimee - and then lied about it.

Look, if I'm willing to stay up late and watch a show that explains why my older sister fled America, just so the lot of you won't feel left out around the water cooler, then I can hardly be faulted if I ask something from you in return. Please, please, please go to the Bad Girls Club website; click on the "Find members" tab; search for "Euripides"; and rate the old Greek playwright as "completely evil". I don't ask for much, but what I do ask for, I ask for in a very loud voice... while holding a dead squirrel under each arm pit.

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 06:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

It's rarely that one sees the name "Rick Santorum" in the same sentence as the word "think" (unless, of course, that sentence is "Most people with IQ's above 80 think that Rick Santorum is an asshole") but, early last week, articles began to appear about how, after his disgraceful loss (as in "700,000 plus disgraceful loss") in the PA senatorial race, Rick Santorum had surfaced as a member of a (you'll want to get a screen shot of this for posterity) think tank.

Just let that sink in.

Rick Santorum has been hired by a think tank. That's like finding out that Mahmoud Ahmadinejad has been elected to the board of directors for the B'nai B'rith. X-treme Jesus on a snowboard with whores, what think tank with any actual thinkers would hire Rick Santorum? [OK, maybe the think tank in charge of picking the village idiot for the Renaissance Faire.] Apparently none, because, as it turns out Rick was hired by the vaguely named Ethics and Public Policy Center (".... established in 1976 to clarify and reinforce the bond between the Judeo-Christian moral tradition and the public debate over domestic and foreign policy issues…" Yee Haw!) to helm something called the …holy shit, can this be real?... "America's Enemies" program.

To really appreciate Scrotorum's take on the appointment, it's best to combine his statements with those from the profiles on the Bad Girls Club website:

"In these perilous and uncertain times when i was at a prparty and a girl starts to look at me funny and i start to fight her 4 no reson at all [Princessmo], I believe it is critical that we define the threats that confront America: drinkin, smokin, skate boardin, chillin, starbucks [Xbadxgirlx]. Without a clear definition and precise understanding of our enemies we cannot fight effectively and our own citizens become divided. Ppl who do that are ignorant aggrivations.[bethky20] It is my hope that the America's Enemies program at EPPC will help the American people -- including our leaders -- understand and communicate with clarity, honesty, and consistency the enemies we face and the complex and enormous threat that they pose to our lives and the freedoms we all enjoy and people gyratin on the dance floor with some booty shakin! [Btb4 Ripsi]."

Hey, if you stop by the Bad Girls Club website, don't forget to go to "Find Members" and search for "Euipides". You'll be glad that you did.

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 06:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Many of you have written me inquiring as to the current whereabouts of the tiny plastic Roman Army. When last we visited with them, Legio XXIII had been sent to Judea to put down of revolt by people who where offended by Aid or Invade XII (this has to be the most self referential post of all-time). Well, it turns out that they did such a good of finally bringing stability to the Middle East that I decided to give them a small vacation. This was easier said than done thanks to the idiosyncrasies of the Roman calendar. Just look at this thing; you'd need to be a fuckin' rocket scientist just to figure out when your next appointment at the methadone clinic is.

Instead of counting forward from, oh let's say from January 1st to January 31st, the Roman calendar counts backwards to the middle of the month (the Ides) and then counts backwards again to the beginning of the next month. So, when I asked Centurion Decius Mallius Umbonius if he and the boys would like the first of January off, he said "What? You mean the fourteenth day before the Ides?" Quid ergo. Eventually, we worked it all out and the fighting (and, occasionally, crucifying) XXIII got to spend a few days in a villa in Tuscany … before they burnt it to the ground in a drunken attempt at a "fish fry".

This brings me to the crux of tonight's post: Persians. You see, I have recently received intelligence, which has been carefully cherry-picked by the staff here at RATYHTL, that the owner of another website has purchased, and is planning to paint tiny plastic Persian soldiers. Fortunately, a few weeks ago I drove over to AAA Hobbies in Cherry Hill (thanks to the person who tipped me off to that store in the comments section), and snatched up some auxiliary infantry, cavalry, archers. Slingers and assorted cannon fodder practically doubling the size of my tiny plastic Roman army to roughly 200 soldiers. The problem is that to adequately defend this website from the threat of foreign invasion, I need to purchase and paint 20,000 by next Thursday night.

Now, a few unpatriotic nay Sayers have claimed that my plan is impractical. They point to the fact that it takes roughly three to fours days to paint each figure and that I've been at this for nearly a year already as proof of the unfeasibility of my proposed troop build up: Whereas I prefer to see it as a challenge. Other points to past "mistakes" made by this website (in particular my assertion that Darryl Worley was developing WMD and that his fans would welcome us onto his message board as liberators) and the fact that I don't really have a clear strategy as to what I'm going to do with the 20,000 tiny plastic Roman soldiers once I've painted them as reasons to deny me the funds I need for this surge. To those who would have me cut and run, I say "Give me the troops and then I will work out some sort of battle plan.

So let's get going, there's no other choice. God willing, we will prevail, in peace and freedom from fear, and in true health, through the purity and essence of our natural fluids. God bless you all.

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 10:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I don't know about you, but I can never get enough of me. Fortunately, I was just interviewed by Cheap Shot Philly, so now I can read about me while writing about myself reading about me when I'm not busy healing the money changers or throwing the lepers out of the Temple. As if that weren't enough to boil Sean Hannity's prostate, CSP also ran a piece about one of my favorite bands: Live Not On Evil

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 06:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

"... it is possible that Mary gave birth to her Son when she was about thirteen or fourteen years of age."

- From the Catholic Encyclopedia

What? The Creator of the Universe knocked up a thirteen-year-old girl? That doesn't really seem like appropriate behavior for the Lord; does it? On the other hand, the Catholic Encyclopedia says that Mary was in her early teens when Yahweh popped her cherry: and it's pretty unlikely that the Catholic Church would lie about pedophilia.

In an attempt to get to the bottom of this of this sordid theological hanky-panky, RATYHTL, with the aid of internet watchdog group Perverted Jehovah has managed to get hold of the actual chat log of the initial conversation between God and the Virgin Mary:

SexyGod4U69 (7:36:18 PM): hello : ) would U like 2 talk
Mary13BCE (7:37:29 PM): OK
SexyGod4U69 (7:40:08 PM): What R U doing
Mary13BCE (7:40:25 PM): Watching My Super Sweet Bat Mitzvah
SexyGod4U69 (7:41:08 PM): R U Jewish
Mary13BCE (7:42:35 PM): LOL Yeah
SexyGod4U69 (7:43:03 PM): From the line of David????
Mary13BCE (7:44:00 PM): 4 sure!
SexyGod4U69 (7:44:38 PM): R U a virgin???
Mary13BCE (7:45:09 PM): U know it!
SexyGod4U69 (7:45:48 PM): U have never been with a Bronze Age deity?
Mary13BCE (7:46:05 PM): Nope ROTFLMAO
SexyGod4U69 (7:46:22 PM): Would U like 2 try it? I can get beer!

As if this weren't shocking and disturbing enough, a thorough check into God's background (OK, I googled Him), found that that God had been implicated in several major crimes ranging from inciting a human sacrifice to genocide to several unpaid parking tickets in Rochester NY.

Hello, I'm Chris Hansen from Dateline NBC with a reminder that, as most children are molested by family members, clergy, or coaches, our "To Catch a Predator" series really doesn't do Jack Shit to protect your kids. And this just in: Jack has left town. So why not move your fuckin' computer into the goddamn family room where you can see what the fuck your little brats are up to, dribblenuts?

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 01:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

This is a sad time for those of with a keen interest in the Classical World; for a tragedy has taken place on par with the burning of the Library of Alexandria. Since there's no way to sugarcoat this, and as many of you have probably already read about it at Archaeologica News, I'm just going to come out and say it: Ripsi has been kicked out of the house on "Bad Girls Club"

For those of you who may have been in the field or working on your PhD's for the last few weeks, Bad Girls Club is the show that picks up where Elimidate left off: pursuing the philosophical question of whether or not it's "classy" to go to Third Base on the first date. The basic premise is that seven women are given a large house in the hills of LA, in exchange for which they are expected to drink themselves stupid and run around in various states of undress. It's pretty much the way Henry David Thoreau envisioned Walden Pond. The housemates include(d) three generic blondes, two sistas (whose main role is to shake their heads in disbelief and mutter "What the fuck is wrong with White people?"), a brunette from South Philly (The subtlety brilliant Aimee, who functions as a sort of Greek Chorus: "She's gonna cheat on her boyfriend....watch." ), and the sorely missed Ripsi.
Here's the teaser for the show:

So what happened? Well, fans of the show would tell you "Ripsi and Zara got drunk, and then Ripsi started punching Kerry and Jodi." [While it's never acceptable to hit a woman, Gandhi would've probably split Kerry lip ten minutes after meeting her.] And that's the way it might appear to the untrained eye, but to any one with even the slightest familiarity with the Classics, it was clear that Ripsi was just doing her duty as a maenad. She was merely exercising her right to practice her religion as she sees fit: and she was unjustly punished for it. Do you think that had she'd spent all day in church praying instead of chugging Smirnoff by the pool she would've been kicked out of the Bad Girls Club? OK, I guess she would've been: bad example. My point is that just as everybody knows that you don't sit next to Dennis, it's common knowledge that you never interrupt a maenad during a Bacchae. Just ask King Pentheus. Duh! Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with White people?

If you have some time to kill, why not search for Euripides' profile on the BGC web site

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 11:08 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Via Reason, via Feministing comes this footage of just what children of Louisiana taxpayers are learning about STD's thanks to the "Governor's Program on Abstinence".

Shit Luther, that "Governor's Program on Abstinence" site contains a page on which you can submit questions! [and with a rack like that, she's going to need a lot of expert advice] Why not ask 'em how come teens who take a "virginity pledge" (yes, they actually pledge to keep their virginity) are less likely than the cool kids to protect themselves from sexually-transmitted infections the first time they GBNaF. And why do they think it is that vp's are more likely to engage in "alternative sexual behaviors" (male vp's are four times more likely to have the hot, hot butt sex and male and female vp's are six times more likely to pull a Lewinsky than non-vp's. Damn, I oughta take a virginity pledge: sounds like it opens up a lot of doors... among other things). Despite these risky behaviors, vp's are less likely to pay a visit to ye ol' free Clinic in order to ask about STD's.

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 06:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I thought it might be best to start of the New Year by handing out some toys. Below you'll find some images that you can download, print, fold and carry in your wallet or purse, or hide up your ass when the Feds come to ship you off to Gitmo. First there's everybody's favorite, the Treaty of Tripoli. Signed into law in 1797 by Founding Father John Adams, this document kicks off with "As the government of the United States of America is not in any sense founded on the Christian religion".

If you want to have some real fun with this one, wait until some Hee Haw Jazeera stooge starts going off about how America is a Christian country (With congressman Keith Ellison about to take the Oath of Office with his hand on a copy of the Koran, there should be plenty of these Christ-O-Tards around). Once Bumfuck Daniel Webster has finished his rant, say something like "You know the great thing about you Reactionaries is that you believe what you believe no matter how much evidence there is to the contrary. I have to really admire that. I'm mean, let's say that I could magically produce a document written by... oh, let's say James Madison and signed by ...oh, John Adams which clearly states that the US was NOT founded on Christianity, you'd still go on believing what you believe." Wait for the inevitable "Well, there ain't no such document" and the whip it out.

Up next we have our ol' (butt) buddies Saints Serge and Bacchus. You might remember them from my review of John Boswell's Same-Sex Unions In Premodern Europe. I've found these two to be a highly effective weapon against Homo-haters: particularly Catholic Homo-haters.

Let your mark bitch about how civil unions are now legal in New Jersey (yeah, like millions of Gays are gonna flock to a place where the state bird is Bon Jovi's middle finger*), then causally mention that, for roughly three hundred years, the Church had a ceremony for marrying same-sex couples. If William "The ice cream's in the freezer - right under the money" Jefferson tries to call "Bullshit", sink his battleshit with a blast of Serge and Bacchus: then, just for good measure, toss in the fact that the state with the < a href="http://www.infoplease.com/ipa/A0923080.html">lowest divorce rate is Massachusetts.

Finally, there's the following chart, a larger version of which was posted a while back, which disputes the claim that the more "Godly" a country is, the safer its residents will be.

* "New Jersey is like a beer barrel, tapped at both ends, with all the live beer running into Philadelphia and New York." - Ben Franklin

Posted by Rodney Anonymous at 01:47 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)