So, I'm watching Family Guy the other day and I came to the conclusion that the show only contains one joke.
"Hey, you know when someone does something and the moment lasts for a short time?"
"Yeah."
"What if that happened for an unusually long period of time?"
"Ha ha ha!"
"- ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha-"
"Okay, Seth, I get it."
"- ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha-"
"No, really, shut the fuck up."
"-ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha-"
Wait for it.
"-ha ha ha ha ha ha haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-"
Keep waiting.
"-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh-"
You can see where I'm going with this.
"-hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.... "
If you're laughing, punch yourself in the face right now for me.
Thank you.
That is the formula for the majority of the "comedy" air-time on that show. This includes those exchanges between characters where they both stutter and interrupt one another in an awkward denouement to a conversation. This interestingly parallels the show. The joke is analogous to the show itself. They take a concept that is amusing at first and extend it to a point where it is even funnier. Then they take it to a point where it is no longer funny. Then to a point where it is annoying. Then to a point where it is frustrating. Then to a point where it is - Look at me, I could write for the fucking show.
Think back to when your read the sample conversation I wrote earlier. You didn't read each one of those "ha's". You skimmed the first line, maybe, and the second line you got the fucking point. The third line you just assumed. It's the same as the joke. There is no punchline.
If comedy is like getting your ass kicked by comedy, Family Guy misses the mark. Comedy fights in many ways. British comedies fight like old-timey boxers; sometimes lots of quick and subtle jabs, definitely lots of footwork to set you up, and it both takes itself seriously and is just plain silly at the same time. Primetime comedies are like modern boxing matches; they hit harder, but don't set you up as well (it also can result in hugging). Most of your late-night comedies are like kick-boxing; a fast paced version for boxing that hits you where you don't see it coming. Your average sit-com is like a WWE wrestling match; the whole things is pre-planned, formulaic, and entirely staged. Family Guy is like being smothered with a greasy pig carcass.
But America loves it.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Friday, July 30, 2010
People I Hate Part 9
Askholes.
People who ask questions over and over. Why do they always come into my store?
"This bottle? Is it sweet?"
"Yes, it will be a bit sweeter?"
"It's sweet?"
"Yes."
"Sveit!?"
Yes, it's fucking sweet! Jesus H. On a related note, at what point do Eastern Europeans go from being a rather attractive people to people you can't fucking stand? Is there any transitional period, or do they just all of a sudden go from good-looking party-goers to arrogant old people? Maybe cool Eastern Europeans are a new breed and we just have to wait for all the jerks to die off before we get cool old Eastern Europeans.
In fact, I think old people in general are just irritating. Most askholes are old people.
"7.99?"
"7.99."
"It's 7.99?"
"7.99."
"Yes."
"How about this one?" picking up the the same label.
"It's also 7.99." pointing at the sign.
"They're both 7.99."
"Which one is better?"
"Well, it depends what kind you like."
"Okay."
Pause.
"7.99."
"Which one you drink?"
"The shiraz."
"Iz bettir?"
"Yes! Fuck!"
I don't actually say this, and in no way endorse shiraz over any other variety of wine, but that's pretty much how these conversations go. Also, yes, as my anger increases, this couple becomes more and more Eastern European.
People who ask questions over and over. Why do they always come into my store?
"This bottle? Is it sweet?"
"Yes, it will be a bit sweeter?"
"It's sweet?"
"Yes."
"Sveit!?"
Yes, it's fucking sweet! Jesus H. On a related note, at what point do Eastern Europeans go from being a rather attractive people to people you can't fucking stand? Is there any transitional period, or do they just all of a sudden go from good-looking party-goers to arrogant old people? Maybe cool Eastern Europeans are a new breed and we just have to wait for all the jerks to die off before we get cool old Eastern Europeans.
In fact, I think old people in general are just irritating. Most askholes are old people.
"7.99?"
"7.99."
"It's 7.99?"
"7.99."
"Yes."
"How about this one?" picking up the the same label.
"It's also 7.99." pointing at the sign.
"They're both 7.99."
"Which one is better?"
"Well, it depends what kind you like."
"Okay."
Pause.
"7.99."
"Which one you drink?"
"The shiraz."
"Iz bettir?"
"Yes! Fuck!"
I don't actually say this, and in no way endorse shiraz over any other variety of wine, but that's pretty much how these conversations go. Also, yes, as my anger increases, this couple becomes more and more Eastern European.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
A limited access to the internet
I would blog more if I could blog from anywhere. It seems like 140 characters is too short for a complex thought, but sometimes I have complex thoughts while I'm at work (sometimes). I think it feels weird to write a blog post on a piece of paper and then transcribe it to the internet later. It kind of loses the point of what most blogs are about: venting on the internet.
I don't think I'm alone on this, but I feel like the future isn't coming fast enough. There hasn't been a scientific development where our generation has been able to say "no fucking way!" Maybe we're spoilt, and when something comes up like a touch screen handheld media player that can access an entire world of information from satellites we only think "hey, neat" or "if I don't have that I will be unpopular." Sometimes, I'll admit, we can really sit down and be wowed by the world we live in, but for the most part, where the fuck is my reliable voice-to-text app that will let me remotely update my blog from my lunchtime musings? Or a printer that can withstand more than the movement of it's own printer head without breaking, for that matter.
I don't think I'm alone on this, but I feel like the future isn't coming fast enough. There hasn't been a scientific development where our generation has been able to say "no fucking way!" Maybe we're spoilt, and when something comes up like a touch screen handheld media player that can access an entire world of information from satellites we only think "hey, neat" or "if I don't have that I will be unpopular." Sometimes, I'll admit, we can really sit down and be wowed by the world we live in, but for the most part, where the fuck is my reliable voice-to-text app that will let me remotely update my blog from my lunchtime musings? Or a printer that can withstand more than the movement of it's own printer head without breaking, for that matter.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Passive Aggression
It always is a strange thing, being passive aggressive. I know I do it myself from time to time, unfortunately not being fully aware of its folly. The problem with being passive aggressive lies in when you think you know something which you truly only suspect, regardless of how strongly you believe it. For example, one might offer their children cookies for a snack knowing full well that there are no cookies left, suspecting the children of pilfering the entire lot when, in fact, their spouse is the true culprit.
When we are passive aggressive in this manner we put our targets in an awkward position. The target can either believe that they are the cause of this aggression and seek to resolve the situation, which can often lead to horrendous embarrassment when they find that they are actually not the target at all; or they can believe that they are not the cause of this aggression, which only serves to further aggravate the aggressor; or finally, they could write an ironically passive aggressive blog post because they simply don't know.
In conclusion, if you have something to say to someone, say it. If you don't have something relevant to say, don't say it. And, if you're like me and don't know if you need to say something to someone or not because you're unsure if they didn't say something to you and left it for you to find or if they didn't not say anything to you because it wasn't meant for you in the first place and you found it and thought that they did... well then go ahead and drop a crumb.
When we are passive aggressive in this manner we put our targets in an awkward position. The target can either believe that they are the cause of this aggression and seek to resolve the situation, which can often lead to horrendous embarrassment when they find that they are actually not the target at all; or they can believe that they are not the cause of this aggression, which only serves to further aggravate the aggressor; or finally, they could write an ironically passive aggressive blog post because they simply don't know.
In conclusion, if you have something to say to someone, say it. If you don't have something relevant to say, don't say it. And, if you're like me and don't know if you need to say something to someone or not because you're unsure if they didn't say something to you and left it for you to find or if they didn't not say anything to you because it wasn't meant for you in the first place and you found it and thought that they did... well then go ahead and drop a crumb.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
People I Hate Part 7 Part 2
Neuroscientists.
Maybe I shouldn't hate them as much as I do. Neuroscientists are much like polio inoculations. They cause you pain and discomfort and put you out of commission for a few weeks while you feel like complete and utter shit, but in the end, well, you don't have polio.
So, as much as I hate you, neuroscientists (specifically from the University of Lethbridge), and as much as I never want to have anything to do with you ever again, I have to say "thank you." I'm feeling a lot better now.
Maybe I shouldn't hate them as much as I do. Neuroscientists are much like polio inoculations. They cause you pain and discomfort and put you out of commission for a few weeks while you feel like complete and utter shit, but in the end, well, you don't have polio.
So, as much as I hate you, neuroscientists (specifically from the University of Lethbridge), and as much as I never want to have anything to do with you ever again, I have to say "thank you." I'm feeling a lot better now.
People I Hate Part 8
Motherfuckers.
Sorry, I just needed to get that out there. The motherfuckers I'm talking about specifically today are petty thieves.
It's one thing when the natives come in and try to swipe a bottle of rye because they can't afford to pay for it because- nevermind. I'm not trying to pick on the natives here. Maybe it's racist, but when a trashy native comes in to steal from me, I expect it. It's a game. Hell, even when white bums come in to steal from me, I get it; they're homeless. When you don't have much in this world and you drift from fix to fix, I understand that it's hard to get out of that cycle. It's hard to clean up, sober up, and become a functioning member of society (again).
What really pisses me off is when motherfuckers come in to steal when they already have shit. When black kids come in with their hundred dollar jeans, designer oversized t-shirts, likely uncomfortable unbroken but most certainly overpriced hats tilted to a superfluous angle... when they come in and feel like they are entitled to take a bottle of raspberry Smirnoff (grow at least one testicle) it sends me into a self righteous rage. I used the black kids as an example that has happened to me in the past. But, again, I'm not trying to pick on the black kids. Half of them are on the level. A more recent account is when a disgusting middle aged white trash motherfucker came in yesterday and tried to steal a bottle of Captain Morgan's... that was on sale.
This motherfucker not only put the bottle down his pants (inside his underwear, no less.... what a fucking asshole) while on a camera that displayed on the sales floor, but also didn't do a very good job because I could see the fucking bottle through his shirt. The cherry on top? Motherfucker was talking on his cell phone.
Just who the fuck does he think he is?! You can afford that shit and it's on sale. What a motherfucker....
Sorry, I just needed to get that out there. The motherfuckers I'm talking about specifically today are petty thieves.
It's one thing when the natives come in and try to swipe a bottle of rye because they can't afford to pay for it because- nevermind. I'm not trying to pick on the natives here. Maybe it's racist, but when a trashy native comes in to steal from me, I expect it. It's a game. Hell, even when white bums come in to steal from me, I get it; they're homeless. When you don't have much in this world and you drift from fix to fix, I understand that it's hard to get out of that cycle. It's hard to clean up, sober up, and become a functioning member of society (again).
What really pisses me off is when motherfuckers come in to steal when they already have shit. When black kids come in with their hundred dollar jeans, designer oversized t-shirts, likely uncomfortable unbroken but most certainly overpriced hats tilted to a superfluous angle... when they come in and feel like they are entitled to take a bottle of raspberry Smirnoff (grow at least one testicle) it sends me into a self righteous rage. I used the black kids as an example that has happened to me in the past. But, again, I'm not trying to pick on the black kids. Half of them are on the level. A more recent account is when a disgusting middle aged white trash motherfucker came in yesterday and tried to steal a bottle of Captain Morgan's... that was on sale.
This motherfucker not only put the bottle down his pants (inside his underwear, no less.... what a fucking asshole) while on a camera that displayed on the sales floor, but also didn't do a very good job because I could see the fucking bottle through his shirt. The cherry on top? Motherfucker was talking on his cell phone.
Just who the fuck does he think he is?! You can afford that shit and it's on sale. What a motherfucker....
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Dear Blog
I haven't been around much and I can explain. Holy shit balls, things are going well. I am employed, I have an amazing girl, I'm putting figurative miles between me and the past (even when the past came literally right to me). My friends are still awesome, the summer is going to be awesome, the next semester should be all right (Advanced Fiction Writing class, application only).
But a situation is only as good as its analogy, and for this one, I think I'm flying. Up and up and up. It's exhilarating, exciting, exuberant... I'm out of 'ex' words, but it's awesome. And even though I know everything has got to stall and come crashing down in a horrible flaming wreck of misery, I'm still excited.
I think the best way to explain it is not with my words, but with Freddy Mercury.
But a situation is only as good as its analogy, and for this one, I think I'm flying. Up and up and up. It's exhilarating, exciting, exuberant... I'm out of 'ex' words, but it's awesome. And even though I know everything has got to stall and come crashing down in a horrible flaming wreck of misery, I'm still excited.
I think the best way to explain it is not with my words, but with Freddy Mercury.
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