You’ll titter. Then you’ll chortle. Then you’ll guffaw.
You’ll titter. Then you’ll chortle. Then you’ll guffaw.
Today in cool.
Things that are good about cats
- soft fur
- cute face
- fluffy tail
This cat fails on all levels
Hard. Especially the swimming around in the milkshake scene. That milkshake was COLD. And on Arthur they make you do your own stunts.
I think what it mostly is is that he’s afraid of seeming abnormal, or unusual in some kind of way that would make him stand out and attract unwanted attention, because of his important work. So what he does is lash out at people, women in particular, since he’s so lonely and sad and unknowable and stuff. Which makes sense, because of the height and depth of his intellect.
Anyway, when he says this stuff—which is totally wrong and definitely offensive—he’s invariably misunderstood, even though it’s just like, the tiniest corner of his depth as a human being and what’s really important about him is that he builds rocket ships, I think, or time machines, possibly? It’s not clear. All I know absolutely on-the-record for certain is that it’s really crucial to our survival and happiness as a species, in particular women, because let’s all be honest, as he’d probably be the first to remind us, civilization is for women in the first place right? I mean this whole thing, this whole mad human comedy is just so women can go around not getting raped, since that’s basically all men do. I mean, men are super rapey. I think he’d be the first to admit that.
The problem, essentially, is that, because of his eternal lonely-deityness and high-minded abstraction, he gets really sensitive to any kind of perceived slight and expresses his pain through threatening people. He’d absolutely never hurt anyone, ever, under any circumstances, physically, unless it was, like, in a Batman way. To defend women, especially. Like if a woman was tied up or something.
So if you’re not tuned into his incredibly sophisticated wavelength—and let me stress here that it’s really not your fault if you’re not—then what happens is that you’re just probably going to say something that sets him off and doesn’t merely hurt his feelings (he’s above feelings now, I think, probably), but it distracts him from his really important work, which, again, is honestly probably the best hope we have against aliens, or maybe goats? Ghosts! Not goats. Ha, sorry, sometimes it’s hard to read his handwriting.
Just think of him like Doctor Who, except maybe kind of meaner sometimes. But also more useful and committed to the advancement of the human animal through this mad, careening universe of sadness and decay! Anyway, it’s really important for you to understand that he doesn’t hate women. At all. He loves women. He spends, like, all of his time thinking about women. That’s how much he loves them. He thinks about all the ways he’d protect them, keep them safe, etc. And so sometimes he’s just kind of out of it and gets blindsided, and lashes out, because of the cruelty of the world.
And you know, asking him to apologize for that is basically asking him to compromise this really advanced and creative and evolutionarily groundbreaking values system he’s crafting, alongside his spaceships and laser beams and time machines and other stuff he’s essentially finished with, and his complex values system is really a part of that. His morality is super important—I mean, you could even say that it is the important thing about him. Not in a pretentious way, but he’s here to teach us how to live, to be better men and, yes, women. Because he knows us all so well, not through actually meeting us or listening to us on any level, but by being himself super hard. And I mean, do you really want to ask him to change that person he’s spent all this time and all this amazing genius-level intellectual firepower comprehending and perfecting?
I hope not. For all our sakes.
You know, during the Israel/Gaza thing I really tried to stay out of it on social media and in print as much as I could and I probably didn’t do that great a job, but I did hold back, for whatever that’s worth. Feelings were running high and who wants to add fuel to the fire, etc. But I do feel the need to add one thing, given that hate crimes against Muslims have doubled in the past year.
I live in a very nice, clean, safe, happy area of Brooklyn called Bay Ridge and I would say between 40 and 60 percent of the people there are Arabs and it breaks my heart when jerks and cretins of whatever stripe, who cares, harass and threaten women in hijabs outside the Arab-American Association of New York. It is right down the street from my house. My neighborhood is filled to overflowing with kind, decent citizens who staff the comic book store and the movie theater and cook amazing food and go to church just like I do. Often—hell, frequently—they are more industrious and courteous than their white counterparts in the same establishment. So it sickens me utterly to see, as I definitely saw firsthand a few weeks ago at the height of the Israel/Gaza war, a bunch of guys get out of a van and start waving the Israeli flag in front of the AAANY during the annihilation of thousands of Gazan lives. Just to rub it in, apparently, in case anyone in the building had children or fathers or sisters they’d never see again.
Earlier this month, outside this same building—which, I would like to stress, is in the only neighborhood in Brooklyn where I can both afford an apartment big enough for two people and never worry about my wife getting attacked between it and the train—some shithead ran up and threw a Department of Sanitation trash can, which is huge and probably weighs 40 pounds at Linda Sarsour, the director of this organization, who wears a hijab, and said, allegedly, ”I’m gonna cut your head off and see how your fucking people feel about it!”
The odious Pamela Geller, who sued the City of New York and won the right to post hateful, ignorant excrescence about Muslims on the walls of the subway, has a new campaign coming to a train station near you. Geller has every right to say anything she wants to say. That doesn’t make the things she chooses to say any less offensive or vile. So I’m just going to post the link to a comedy documentary made by a bunch of Arab comedians and leave it at that.
And look, if you’re a person who doesn’t live near any Muslims or talk to them or buy food from them and you have Important Opinions about How Arab Culture Is Destroying America, fine. I don’t really care. Good luck in your life. You’re going to be scared for a lot of it, and I hate that for you. But if you live in a place where there are a lot of people who are different from you and you see people who look like them far away doing things you don’t like, when you see your neighbors at the grocery store just fucking be nice to them. Ask yourself, “if this were my wife and she came home crying because of the thing I’m about to say to her, would I want to punch me in the face?” And then if the answer is “yes,” maybe behave like a grownup human being and not a tiny little boy who doesn’t know the difference between brown people.
Pushy girl: You’ve seen pictures of my friends. They’re all attractive, short of like, one.
Harried friend: Well, but what about their personalities?
PG: Their personalities are all great.
HF: What if they don’t like me?
PG: Well, there’s a lot of them.
Me: Do you like it here?
Ethiopian cab driver: I like America very much. But Las Vegas? No. Vegasians, they are not like other people in Boston or Kansas City. A doctor is supposed to be a doctor—he gets his first degree, he goes back to school for five, six, seven years, he gets his MD. Here, they ask me to take urine and blood tests for this job. When I was in Virginia, I give urine, I give blood, they send the results to the company. Here, I go in to the doctor’s office, he says, “Did you pay the girl at the front desk?” I say, “Yes,” he says, “Does your back hurt? Anything else?” I say, “No.” He writes down the”results” on a piece of paper and tells me to leave.
Me: He didn’t take your blood or anything?
ECD: No. Nobody cares here.
Me: It is sad to see homeless people in all of this, uh, stuff. And the looks on the faces of the girls serving drinks in the casino pits…
ECD: This city: it does not exist anywhere else, and it is the Kingdom of the Devil.
Lovely old Grace
Saturday, Manhattan, West Village.