Say it.
Oh, come on. I don’t wanna say–
SAY IT!
…
America, I’m sorry for breaking up Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie’s marriage.
Jackass.
HEY! She came onto ME, man!
Oh, get stuffed.
Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
Month: September 2016 (Page 8 of 20)
- I’m going to humiliate myself with this one; we should all be aware of that right off the bat, and also I am certainly going to cheat a tiny bit.
- If it helps, I do feel shame about this: Americans should have a working knowledge of their government, if only so that they can yell about with more accuracy than they currently do.
- Let’s start small.
- The United States Constitution turned 229 the other day.
- When 229 you turn, govern so well you will not.
- Not the Declaration of Independence.
- Therefore: no John Hancock signature.
- (Fun fact: that story they told you in grade school about John Hancock writing his name so big so that King George could read it without his glasses was bullshit. His signature was so large because John Hancock was eleven feet tall.)
- Almost certainly not written by George Washington.
- Very few jokes.
- Parchment.
- Knock it off. Do this or don’t.
- You suck.
- Anyway, the United States Constitution was hammered out by a convention of the states in 1789 and remains the law of the land today; it consists of a preamble and seven articles, and 27 amendments.
- Many legal scholars have compared the articles and amendments to the body and tail of a comet, but all of them were drunk at the time.
- The first ten amendments are known are the Bill of Rights and they defend citizens’ rights, and protect them from their own government: they couldn’t pass laws banning opinions, or torture people for information, and or detain you without cause.
- Remember: this is 1789, so governments were allowed do that bullshit.
- Say it with me: the past was terrible.
- There was some precedent in the Magna Carta, and the philosophies of Locke and Montesquieu were involved, and Adam Weishaupt secretly dictated the preamble to James Madison, but other than that it was an original work, and there’s some undeniably good stuff in there.
- I enjoy the First Amendment.
- Others prefer the next one.
- Most right-thinking Americans would choose the Third Amendment as their sentimental favorite; I would agree because I’ll be damned if Obama’s gonna force me to let some limey soldier sleep on my couch.
- It is in the Third, though, that the Constitution’s main flaw comes into sharp focus.
- It’s 229 years old.
- Putting aside the other main flaw that I’ll get to (there can be more than one main something, shut up), which is that the document is the result of a political compromise specifically and explicitly designed to maintain the institution of slavery, it’s two hundred and twenty damned nine years old.
- They did not have medicine 229 years ago, and there were wolves everywhere.
- (An argument against Constitutional Originalism, which holds that the text should be interpreted as it was intended at the time: since the Framers could have no possible clue about the internet or the highways or the airwaves, and therefore not intended their words to apply to them, then how can these things be regulated by the agents of those words? The Originalists’ own argument says that the Constitution doesn’t apply to most of life.)
- Some things from 229 years ago are still pleasant: trees, and art, and buildings in Europe.
- Cathedrals and castles and shit.
- St. Paul’s in Manhattan is a bit older than the Constitution, and you would not want to live in it.
- First of all: terrible neighborhood, nothing but bankers and tourists, plus nothing’s open at night.
- Second: there is a graveyard right next door, so it would be so very spooky.
- All them old-timey ghosts up in your business and whatnot.
- Barging in on you like Kramer in their tri-cornered hats and sheets with the eyes cut out.
- Stop being weird.
- Sure.
- Besides the fact that the Constitution is older than an old celebrity to whom old things are compared, it’s also a compromise born of the political questions and needs of the time, as indicated by the silly Third Amendment I mentioned.
- The Constitution doesn’t explicitly legalize slavery, but it does include the Tenth Amendment, which let states do whatever the hell they want for the most part.
- Some states wanted to do slavery.
- Not all the people in the state wanted to do slavery.
- The slaves, for example.
- But no one asked them and so the Peculiar Institution was a stain upon our nation until Djamie Foxx and a charismatic Nazi put an end to the practice.
- Not only were slaves not asked about things, they weren’t even counted, at least not all the way: a slave (described as an “other person” in the text) counted for 3/5 of everybody else.
- And in grade school, I was taught that the South wanted slaves counted and the North didn’t, but it’s more complicated, and worse, than that.
- Southern states wanted the slave population to be counted when it came to how many representatives and whatnot they got, but not for when it came time to tally up the tax bill; the northern ones wanted the reverse.
- Not, you know: stop doing slavery.
- In the defense of the North: the South wasn’t joining up if slavery wasn’t legal, period, end of story.
- Once more with feeling: the past was terrible, but it was far more terrible for some than others.
- Compromises between political factions from two centuries ago also persist within the structure of American government: the Senate and House are the bulwark of the small states and prerogative of the big states, respectively.
- The Senate was originally chosen by the House (that changed to a direct vote with an Amendment which I will say with unearned confidence was the 17th) and was intended to be more deliberative.
- The House of Representatives is, and always has been, full of thieves, lunatics, and the moneyed dumb.
- The Constitution also says that there should be a president, and that he should get an awesome jet plane, and also that there should be courts of all kind–supreme, circuit, state, county, local, night, kangaroo, People’s, food–and that they be independent of the other two branches.
- All together, it is a perfect system for getting very little done.
- Which was the intent.
- The Constitution can be amended, but it’s complicated and requires all sorts of super-majorities and special processes, and for all intents and purposes can no longer be done.
- (Seriously, I don’t think it can. Think of the years of sustained bipartisan cooperation that ratification entails. Can’t be done. There were a bunch of amendments relating to voting added in the Sixties, and while I was cheating and betraying the ethos of Without Research, I found out that the 27th–the last one so far–was ratified in 1992, and that seems like something my history teacher should have mentioned, but this is the first Im hearing about it.)
- The rest of the amendments are of a greater vintage, but some are very important.
- I will now attempt this truly Without Research:
- 14th and maybe the 15th ended slavery.
- 13th, too?
- 16th was income tax.
- 18th was Prohibition.
- 19th was women’s suffrage.
- 21st repealed Prohibition.
- Lot going on in there.
- Whole bunch of history in just a couple of changes.
- More Amendments Without Research!
- 11th: Werewolf suffrage.
- 22nd or so: Puts the inauguration in the middle of January in Washington, D.C, when it is very cold; this amendment has directly led to a presidential death.
- 24th: So that there should be no shit, no law shall be made starting shit.
- Also, the federal government gets to levy taxes and raise and command an army, but that’s not the important point.
- It’s the thing about voting, and free speech.
You look like that Afghani girl on the cover of National Geographic.
“You look like a mook.”
Ow.
“I just wanted to say mook.”
It’s a fun word.
“But you do.”
Sure. Tell me of love! I demand it!
“You’re in no position to demand.”
Seated?
“Sure.”
Still.
“Love is the bubble in champagne.”
How so?
“An explainable chemical reaction, but quite lovely.”
Are you carrying all of your possessions?
“No, I’m wearing some of them.”
Back to love.
“Which one? Agape, storge? Philia, eros?”
The Greek one.
“Choose your love. A poorly-defined question leads to Satan.”
Which Satan?
“Satan, Wisconsin. Their Oktoberfest is going on now.”
Sure. How many drugs are in your bag?
“Enough, plus some.”
Did you make your own gloves?
“I made my own gloves.”
You look like the bed with all the coats thrown on it at a party, with blue eyes.
“You’re not a mook: you’re a dick. Swaggie Maggie is right: this bit is sexist and I refuse to participate in it. Oh, good: my Uber’s here. Bye, loser.”
“I FREAKED OUT AND WENT INTO MY SAFE SPACE AGAIN!”
You’re the Uber driver?
“FIVE STAR REVIEW GETS A TUGGER!”
Nope. Done.
- Stop asking about that.
- Hillary did it first.
- All of those statements were actually made by Mr. Trump’s evil twin brother, Ronald Trump.
- That happened in the past, and we’re not in the past anymore, so why are we even discussing this.
- His Twitter account was hacked, repeatedly, and over the span of half-a-decade.
- Claiming President Obama isn’t a real American isn’t racist, because “president” isn’t a race.
- Auto-correct.
- Mr. Trump was doing it to support the troops.
- He was being sarcastic.
- Because he wants America to be great again, now let’s talk about something else.
- Something something Benghazi.
“GOOD EVENIN’, LADIES ‘N GENTLEMEN OF THE PRESS.”
King.
“AH HAVE ASSEMBLED YOU HERE SO AH COULD TELL YOU HOW GREAT AH AM, AND ALSO THAT THERE’S A NUKE IN THE BUILDING.”
King.
“THERE IS NO DANGER TO THE LAS VEGAS COMMUNITY, OR MAH MANY FANS, UNLESS THEY ANGER SHECKY GREENE. THASS ONE CRAZY JEWBOY!”
King.
“HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT ELVIS, WHO IS THE KING, DURING A PRESS CONFERENCE! RED! JOE ESPOSITIO! REPAY HIS INSOLENCE!”
…
Even if that made any sense, it just wouldn’t play in the all-dialogue bit.
“THIS HERE FORMAT IS LIMITED.”
Sure, good note. King, can you please not help? Your help will not help. Your help will hurt. And, you know: there’s a madman with a nuclear bomb in the King Tut suite.
“WHO, FAT BOY? AH GOT A PLAN FOR HIM!”
And that is?
“AH PLAN ON BEIN’ ELVIS AT HIM AS HARD AS AH CAN. UP TIL NOW, THASS SOLVED EV’RY PROBLEM AH EVER COME ACROSS.”
Is there a backup plan?
“KARATE.”
Goddammit.
…
Are you wearing a cape?
“COURSE AH AM!”
Why?
“CUZ IT’S A PRESS CONFERENCE.”
Sure.
Realities are wibbling again, Enthusiasts. There is wonton entanglement, and the limits of semi-fictionality may not be knowable, at least not from within it, which we all are.
I present Exhibit A:
Doctor Gary is alive. (Although to be honest, I always pictured Doctor Gary as Jurgen Prochnow or Rutger Hauer.)
EDIT: Aww, it’s fake.
Hey, Pope Francis. Whatcha doing?
“I’m-a hanging out witta da Globies!”
Cool.
“They da clown princes of-a da basketball! Come-a to da Vatican, set-a up da hoop, do-a da show.”
All that just for you?
“It’s-a good to be da Pope.”
Obviously.
“They do all-a da tricks. Throw-a confetti, ball on-a da string. One-a guy, he dribble da ball real good. Other guy talk-a real loud.”
That sounds like the Globetrotters.
“Same-a routine for 50 years.”
With all due respect, you’re one to talk, Your Holiness.
“Is not-a da same! Mother Church is-a unchanging because-a da God. Is-a what He said to do, so cannot-a change.”
That’s not true. The Church changes all the time.
“Like-a when?”
Vatican II.
“When-a else?”
Vatican I, I guess.
“Is all-a da sequels nowadays.”
Sure. Are you following the American elections, Pope Francis?
“Look-a my face.”
I’ll take that as a yes.
“What-a the fuck wrong witta alla you?”
Pope!
“Scusi. I forgive-a myself.”
Fanatic.
You don’t know
the meaning of the
word but we’ll teach you
love
love
love
to be a fanatic means
to give your soul so
we’ll take it eat it
and your face we’ll
eat your face
and your dick we’ll
eat your dick
eat your dick
“Guys, I’m just an intern and–”
NOM
NOM
NOM
NOM
NOM
NOM
CELL PHONE NOISE
CELL PHONE NOISE
“Hi, this is John Mayer. Are you calling about my laundry detergent?”
“I don’t like to curse a lot, John, but what the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Katy?”
“NO! You shall not call me by that name! I am an Ancient Egyptian god who lives in a pyramid!”
“It’s the Luxor. It’s a casino shaped like a pyramid.”
“I have assumed my final form, John.”
“I am Katypatra.”
“Oh, good.”
“I bring maat to the people, and fight the forces of Apep. I represent social phenomena, and am believed to be immanent within them.”
“You’re just reading from Wikipedia now.”
“The Luxor has the classiest WiFi in Vegas, John.”
“What’s the password?”
“fucktaylorswift”
“All one word?”
“That’s why I said it like that, John. Now: are you on your way?”
“Yes, yes. I am this time. Promise.”
“You need to hurry, John. Because…because…”
…
“Katy?”
“Katypatra.”
“I’m not saying that. Why did you trail off?”
“I couldn’t bring myself to do the exposition, John. I thought about saying how Kim Jong-Un was in the King Tut Suite–”
“Of the Luxor Hotel, which you somehow own.”
“–with a nuclear bomb that he’s threatening to set off unless you hang out with him. I thought about doing it and I got exhausted and I just couldn’t, John.”
“Sure. Katypatradoodles?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why don’t you just use your ancient godly powers to turn Kim Jong-Un into a donkey-person or something?”
“That’s an excellent question, John.”
…
“So, are you coming or not?”
“I said I was! I’m on my way. Now just keep that lunatic cool for–”
KARATE NOISE!
“What the hell was that?”
“It sounded like karate, John.”
“Uh-huh. I was talking about the source of the–”
KARATE NOISE!
“Katy, are you safe?”
“I am literally a god, John. Plus Big Ping Pong is here.”
“He still a hippo-person?”
“Hippo-American, John. I’m going to go investigate.”
KARATE NOISE!
“Oh my gosh!”
“Katy!”
“MAN, LOOKA THEM BIG OL’ BOOBIES!”
“John, I’ll call you back.”
“AH HAVE ARRIVED TO SAVE THE DAY, LIKE THE HERO OF THE COMIC BOOK, EXCEPT WITH BETTER OUTFITS AND HAIR.”
“Elvis! Hi! I’m Katy Perry. We’ve met, I think, but I’m an Ancient Egyptian god now.”
“ONLY REAL ANCIENT EGYPTIAN GOD IS JESUS CHRIST!”
“Sure. What are you doing here?”
“YOU DONE GOT A STORYLINE SET IN VEGAS ‘N YOU DIDN’T THINK THE KING WOULD SHOW UP? AH HAVE EVEN BROUGHT MAH OWN SHAG CARPETING. YOU C’N DO KARATE ON IT ALL DAY AND NIGHT, KNEES DON’T HURT.”
“It’s really nice. I hate to bother you, Elvis, but we’re having a little problem. Y’see, Kim–”
“ELVIS READ TH’ EXPOSITION! OF COURSE AH WILL ASSIST YOU IN DEFEATING COMMUNISM! WE WILL PIT AMERICAN KARATE AGAINST ONLY KOREAN KARATE, WHICH IS CALLED JUDO. AH AM IN CHARGE NOW.”
“Oh. Um, actually, Elvis…I’m gonna be in charge. My casino. And I’m a god, like I said.”
“KING BEATS GOD.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“THASS HOW IT WORKS IN VEGAS. WAIT. YOU HAD ANY BABIES?”
“No.”
“THEN WE’RE GOLDEN. LESS GO KICK THIS FAT BOY IN THE FACE. ‘FORE WE GO, THO: YOU GOT ANY REFRESHMENTS?”
“You should meet Doctor Gary.”
“LEAD THE WAY, KATYDOODLE.”
“You can call me that.”
Speaking of football, a buddy of mine posted this: it’s the Los Angeles Coliseum, where the newly-relocated Rams beat the Seahawks in a barn-burner 9-3 game. It’s the view from his seat, though he surely must have only needed the edge of it–as I mentioned: 9-3–and the vantage is a hilarious reminder of how badly the NFL has fucked up yet again. The new stadium, which will be in Terminal 2 at LAX, won’t be ready for two years; until then, the Rams will play in the Coliseum.
The L.A. Coliseum was built in 1209 by the indigenous Chumash people, and originally used for religious festivals, including the harvest celebration where, to thank the gods for the bounty of the year’s crop, two groups of large men ritualistically concussed one another. During the period of Spanish rule, the Coliseum was used for bullfighting, and naps.
America took control of the Los Angeles region in 1847; to commemorate the occasion, Buffalo Bill Cody and his Wild West show was installed in the Coliseum for a month, even though he was only one year old at the time, and the venue has been intertwined with Angeleno history ever since. The original Hollywood sign was fashioned from metal taken from the building (leading to a partial collapse in 1924). The first Chinatown in L.A. was situated around the 30-yard line, and was where Noah Cross incested his daughter, leading to the cable cars being removed. In 1956, the forcibly-displaced Mexican-American occupants of Chavez Ravine were brought here and executed.
The Coliseum was where Ronald Reagan won the Olympics.
USC plays football there now, but there are no luxury boxes or WiFi; the seats are neither heated nor smart; there’s not even a dedicated app. The water fountains are just for show, and there are mountain lions everywhere. Also: my seat was closer than this seat: my couch in South Florida was nearer to the action than the metal folding chair anchored into concrete actually at the venue was.
But anyway: professional football’s back in Los Angeles. Fourth time’s the charm.
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