I know that God didn't make no junk, but he kind of made some junk. What is wrong with this guy? For someone who claims to know so much about hell, he is not being very careful in terms of trying not to get sent there. Or am I wrong about hell. Isn't that where terrible, hateful, dangerous assholes who dedicate their lives to evil go? Meanwhile:
In a statement on its Web site, the Christian Broadcasting Network said Robertson was speaking objectively about Haiti's history that has led "countless scholars and religious figures over the centuries to believe the country is cursed.
I'm sure he was just being very objective. He's basically a historian. When you think of Pat Robertson, the first thing you think of is Objective Historian, and everything else (hatemonger, nightmare) comes after. Although, I'm pretty sure the number of scholars and religious figures who believe that Haiti is cursed is far from "countless." I feel like the number of scholars and religious figures who believe that Haiti, a "country" whose geopolitical borders are a man-made invention little more than 200 years old is CURSED by THE DEVIL is very, very countable. Probably on fewer than two hands.
JEEBUS H. YIKES! Look, I support the environment as much as anyone (well, not as much as anyone), but I'm starting to rethink my position. It's not that these guys aren't great dancers. These guys are very very good at dancing. And it's 2009, the noble dream of Communism is over, we all have to put food on our families now. But if the only way to get people to reconsider alternatives to their selfish and excessive use of fossil fuels in order to never move their Wall-E bodies is a warmed up Gap Khakis ad from 1997 set to a knock-off Kimya Dawson song (which is also the soundtrack to my suicide note), then I have a feeling we might be better off in 2012 anyway. We can tell these guys that we do not need their services anymore. What's the point of stopping time if we can't even stop THIS? (Thanks for the tip, Reed.)
If you didn't want your movie trailer to be mildly-NSFW, then you wouldn't have made your movie trailer mildly-NSFW. Blame yourself!
This is your movie. You wrote this movie. You star in this movie. You directed this movie. The movie is based on you. You recorded the audio commentary for the Special Features of this movie. You give a DVD of this movie to your friends and family at birthdays and holidays. The soundtrack to this movie is the only thing on your Zune.
YA BURNT, JUDD APATOW! Just kidding. Ya are not burnt. What is this? This is real, incidentally. But the fact that it is real does not answer the question of what it is. "We're going to make a miserable, unwatchable parody of popular comedies as a reminder of why those comedies were maybe even more impressive than you originally thought when you saw them now that you understand just how bad comedies can be, namely this bad, and also to show the world that we are awful"? Success! Life is all about setting achievable goals. Gold star sticker, boys. Flying colors, etc. (Thanks for the tip, Samir, aka Bonah Jill.)
When someone says "hey, we are going to broadcast a live Michael Jackson seance on TV," you assume that it is going to be hilarious and ridiculous. What else could it be? Serious and important? No. But OMG, the reality of SkyOne's live Michael Jackson seance is so much more hilarious and ridiculous than you ever could have possibly imagined even if you spent 14,000 years locked away in the highest turret of King Friday's castle trying. I'm pretty sure we could vanquish the Great Nothing on the back of Falcor and still our power of imagination would not be strong enough to imagine this. There is no purple crayon, Harold.
The fact that this video only has 400,000 views is as if only 400,000 people knew about the Holocaust. It's like George Santanaya said, "those who cannot learn from miserable Joe Pesci bullshit rap videos are doomed to repeat them." That's on his tombstone. And it will be on ours, too, if we're not more careful. NEVER FORGET. (Thanks for the tip, Glinner.)
Before I talk about last night's premiere of The Jeff Dunham Show on Comedy Central, I would first like to issue a couple of apologies. I'm sorry, Jay Leno, I was wrong. Your comedy is hackneyed, aggressively middlebrow, toothless, and focuses way too much on your expensive car collection, and your exit from the Tonight Show only to reclaim the 10PM slot was obnoxious. But you are the Louis C.K. of late night with the manners of Princess Grace compared to Jeff Dunham. And I'm sorry, Seth MacFarlane, I was wrong. Your TV shows are stupid, repetitive, poorly written, and insufferably scatalogical, and you yourself seem to be excessively arrogant and self-congratulatory, with terrible taste in leather jackets and hand tanning. But you are the thinking man's (pre-Soon-Yi) Woody Allen, blazing Mark Twainian paths of comedic invention compared to Jeff Dunham and his horror show of backwoods racist, homophobic, misogynistic, anti-semitic, shithead puppets.
If I had to sum up my feelings and reactions to The Jeff Dunham Show in a single sentence it would be FUCK THIS SHOW IN THE FACE UNTIL IT DIES. But I don't have to sum up my feelings and reactions to The Jeff Dunham Show in a single sentence. I can take as many sentences as I like. Here are some of them:
This week's episode opens with Kim shopping for children's clothes, and treating the saleswoman like garbage. OH, KIM, WILL YOUR NIGHTMARE EXISTENCE ON THIS MORTAL PLANE NEVER CEASE? Will someone please carry her wig to the top of Mount Doom in the heart of Mordor and DESTROY IT? It's one thing to drink a bottle of white wine for breakfast and belittle the foolish woman you pay to be your assistant, it's a whole other thing to go to the local Baby Sluts and boss some poor saleswoman around because you "don't have time" to shop. What are you so busy doing, Kim? Surely your daily FACE INJECTIONS can only take 20, 30 minutes tops. There is plenty of time to dress your child like a Thai prostitute. (White slavery starts in the home.)
No matter how bad things get in one's life, there is always the held-out hope that they will eventually get better. We all dutifully push our own shopping cart through the falling ash as we carry our personal fire to the proverbial coast. But there are certain larger truths about the world we live in with which we must come to some sort of peace. And one of those truths is that this world was not made for us. We can find our own tiny, enshadowed corners to curl up in, but outside of those resting places it is an endless nightmare. I'm not saying that Jay Leno's new 10PM talk show is an apocalyptic wasteland through which we have to trudge in the hopes of finding a lost world, but I am saying that Jay Leno's 10PM talk show represents the cannibalized hopes and gray-wash dreams of a ruined society.
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