There is a comedian in New York, roughly my age, who I think is one of the best joke writers in town. I think we’d get along, and have tried to be his friend, for (and I’m being honest) 90% non-career reasons. Do I think he’ll be a huge success one day, and maybe throw me an opportunity or two? Sure. Maybe. But that stuff can’t be counted on. He just seems fun: a good hang, quick as hell, and generally my kind of person. But this guy is so career-focused, it’s off-putting. I can’t help him, so he has no real time for me. Not in a mean way, just in a “Oh hi! Oh bye!” kind of way.
My emotional response to this is weird. I can’t hold his behavior against him. It’s not his job to make me feel good about me. I want people like that to validate me as a person, but they’ve decided they don’t really have time for those kind of connections. He’s perfectly within his rights to do so. And I should just get over it. Part of me feels sorry for him. But I’m also jealous of what his dysfunctional, careerist mono-focus has helped him “get”.
It’s so bizarre to watch. He is very good at “the game”, and also very talented. And that is what’s so unnerving: you can’t tell where success from talent/hard work ends, and success from schmoozing/marketing starts. Then I ask myself: at the end of the day, does it even matter? Did it ever matter? How many of your great entertainment idols are really *that* great? Maybe they were just “good enough” talent-wise, but lucky enough to be born with the gift of networking? Does every creative field have a Patrice O’Neal: a cranky genius so many miles ahead of the competition, but too self-destructive to play the game?
Target just fired a security guard for calling the cops on a shoplifter. They fired him for doing his job. Which explains why no one at Target is ever doing their job.
The F-35 fighter jet is grounded because its engine has “excessive rubbing“. The military say they aren’t worried, because the jet has been in development for 13 years, and excessive rubbing is very normal at that age.
The Aryan baby on the cover of a Nazi family magazine… was actually Jewish. That must’ve been tough for a proud Jewish mother: OK, it’s Nazi propaganda, but… of all the babies, they picked mine!
I can’t get stop watching these videos. They are funny and disturbing in the purest way. They make me feel like I’m rediscovering Python again. My throat hurts from laughing. Whoever this man is (and apparently he remains anonymous), you’re a goddamn saint.
Pink Floyd are releasing a new album, recorded 20 years ago. Coincidentally, 20 years is also the length of the first track.
— Comedy Central (@ComedyCentral) July 7, 2014
Considering I knew nothing about Pink Floyd before noon today, I feel like I did OK.
A Korean gentleman at my deli just wished me “Happy July!” Not just the 4th: the whole shebang. What a sweetie.
Just remembered: on one day last week, I had sex, watched the World Cup, drank four beers, and quoted The Simpsons with pals for two hours. I’m living my 13 year-old dream.
Like most of the world, I’d forgotten that Jay-Z straight up stabbed a dude in ’99 and was looking at 15 years. He’s bounced back well, hasn’t he?
You can’t eat carbs because they make you fat. You can’t eat meat because it makes you fat. You can’t eat sugar because it makes you fat. You can’t eat fruit because of all the sugar. You can’t eat eggs because they make you fat. Except the white part. Which makes you want the yellow part. The yellow part makes you fat. You can’t drink booze because it makes you fat. And makes you want to eat more things that make you fat. You can’t eat fat because it makes you fat. You can eat vegetables. But can you eat enough to not want the other stuff? The stuff that makes you fat? No.