Thursday, January 31, 2008

An Intersection Of Art And Science

Periodic Print Table

Books, Inq.)


"Bizarre" is definitely a good descriptor of this new mammal, from is weird nose to it's alphabet soup Linnean classification (Rhynochocyon udzungwensis) to its list of relatives (elephants, manatees, aardvarks). And yet, somehow, it's really rather cute.


Where's the beef? Right here! *LOL* I'm sorry, but I find Shia La Beouf insanely attractive, in an adorkable sort of way. Funnily enough, though, I don't think I've ever seen any of his movies.

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Don't Tase Me, Dad!

There are crazy Little League parents, and then there is this guy. Training your 18-month-old to be a cage fighter by taseing him? What a great idea! That'd really toughen him up for all those underground toddler Fight Clubs! *head, desk* Great Buddha's Butt, this world is fucked up!

Junk Email Subject Line of the Week

"Make your pants a pyramid!" Sorry, junk emailers, but I think I'll pass. Several tons of granite would make my ass look simply huge!

Dogs Of War

Meet First Sergeant Boe, a black Lab currently serving her country as a morale-dog in Iraq. I say we start bringing troops home and send dogs in their place. Operation Cute Overload would have Iraq secure in no time. Really, what insurgency could resist the power of thousands of wagging tails and teh puppeh breath? (The cats, meanwhile, would act as black ops assassins and infiltrators charged with locating and eliminating insurgent leaders.)

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Sir Edmund PolarBearillary

How intrepid: climbing the snowy peaks of the arctic!

Subprime Crisis Explained

You may be losing your house and your 401K is now worthless due to the market downturn, but you can still have a chuckle as you lose everything!

The Ice Ain't The Only Thing Chilly In Here!

Mix two skating rivals with a reporter just DYING to stir shit up, and you get this totally awkward double interview.

Thin Enough For You?

Don't want to spend $1700 to $3000 on a MacBook Air. Here ya go!

Sunday, January 27, 2008

Tony, Tony, Tony!

I've been a fan and avid viewer of for about two-and-a-half years now. Tony is a happily-partnered Orlando resident just trying to raise his (adorable) Dachshund Ruko right and have a little fun dancing the night away at an occasional circuit party or two, all while indulging in a little PG-video exhibitionism. Since January 2005, he's shared his life with the world via his vlog, producing what he likes to call an Internet "ME-ality" show.

Now, I know what some of you are thinking: "The video diary of some queen in Florida chronicling such scintillatingly exciting events such as a trip to Ikea and the quest for the perfect temporary tattoo? Yeah, Bourgeois Nerd, that's something I really want to see! *snort*"

Can the sarcasm for a second, dear Bitchy Reader! Yes, his project is basically the recording of the trials and travails of ordinary life, the kind of stuff we all go through every day. But what makes the videos so fascinating and compelling is that he's both Everyman-leading-Everylife and Oneman-leading-Onelife. He takes the hum-drum and the quotidian, weaves it with the particular and the out-of-the-ordinary, and makes something fascinating and intimate out of it. Tony showcases his insecurities (he's got gay body dysmorphic issues), his vanities (hair is very important to him), his heartaches (the chapters about his mother are heartbreaking in their rawness), as well as his positives (he's a true Southern gentleman), his talents (he's both a fantastic baker and a wizard at video editing), and his triumphs (no matter what he thinks, he's smoking hot). In a word, the man is relatable, and that makes the videos totally engrossing. You really get to know him, and you want to know what happens to him next. It's like visiting with a friend to catch up every week.

"Oh, just another Internet famewhore!" I hear you, Bitchy Reader, cry. "And he doesn't even give us any cock-shots!" Oh, Bitchy Reader, how cynical you are. In point of fact, Tony has been filming his life for decades, long before the Internet as such even existed, lugging about video equipment for the enjoyment and edification of no one except himself and maybe some of his friends. He's not trying to get rich or famous; he's human, of course, an thus not above hankering for a little ego-stroking, of course, I don't think, but that's not what this is about. He's more a performance artist than anything, I think. This is not vulgar ego-fellatio or the pornography of the prosaic, this is documentary Art. (I'm with you about the lack of cock-shots, however. Their absence makes me a sad panda.)

"Okay, okay, Bourgeois Nerd," you say, Bitchy Reader. "I believe you. What's with the knob-polishing from you all of a sudden, though?" Well, you see, Tony's sunk time, money, and soul into his website, but he's feeling a little underappreciated lately. Not that I'm a page view powerhouse or anything, but I thought if I could get some of you to go visit and watch some of his videos, it might just cheer him up. As you can probably tell, I'm a total fanboy, and have a raging crush on him, so I don't like to see him so down. Also, we've exchanged emails several times over the years, and he's really just as sweet, funny, and self-deprecating as he is in the videos, so he's not just editing to make himself look like a good guy, he is a good guy, and good guys should be rewarded.

So, please,
go visit (maybe even throw some change in the tip jar, or just send him a nice email) and turn his frown upside down. You won't regret it, I promise!

Raiders Of The Lost Tot

Idaho Jones

Art 1.0.1

Art appreciation for geeks.

(Via Valleywag)

Skimpy Sundays

(Via Roids and Rants [NSFW]; Bill in Exile [NSFW])

Thursday, January 24, 2008


Because I'm an idiot, I didn't keep track of the number of posts for a few days, so my 2,000th post came and went without the proper fanfare. So, in honor of the still-new year, I'll instead celebrate this, my 2008th post. Woooooooooooooooooooooohoooooooooooooooooooooo!

Three years and two thousand (and eight) posts of stuff and nonsense have come and gone, and I want to thank you, dear readers, for making Bourgeois Nerd the rousing mediocrity it is today! Here's to two thousand (and eight) more whines about how I have no life, tedious explorations of my boring-ass neuroses, and link-leechings of the hard work of much more interesting and creative people!

Schroedinger's Bond

The next James Bond movie is entitled James Bond: Quantum of Solace. What an... odd title! But apparently it's the title of one of Ian Fleming's short stories, and Mr. Fleming knew what he was doing, so whatever. I don't particularly care, anyway, as long as we get naked or near-naked Daniel Craig again! One does wonder, though, if the movie really exists until you see it. (Some quantum mechanics humor there. Haha!)

(Via Towleroad)

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Ring, Ring, Ring

Does anybody wear their high school or college rings? If so, why? For those that don't, am I alone in thinking anyone who does is kind of an asshole, all "Look at me, I went to XYZ State, I'm awesome!" or "Look at me, I loved high school and want to be reminded of it all the time!" (No offense to readers that do; I'm not talking about you, of course!)

Writing Utensils

Stop chewing on your pencaps, when you can use your pencaps to chew your food, instead!

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

We Are Not Amused

I am Grouchy Kitteh and I do not approve this message.

And You Thought Your Old School Pictures Were Bad

The pinnacle of the portrait studio photographers' art is right here. How stunning! Like all good art, it makes you almost weep! From laughter and awe at the bad taste, yes, but weep nonetheless.

(Via email forward from
Scott [NSFW])

Monday, January 21, 2008

Welcome To My Blog

Okay, these videos damn near literally killed me (I was laughing and drinking water at the same time -- never a good idea -- and water went down the wrong pipe and I couldn't breathe and I ended up vomiting all of my powder room to restore respiratory function), so you know it's funny. It has my "So Funny I Vomited!" seal of approval.

A Visual Dictionary

Pretty, pretty visual dictionary created using 53,463 nouns and search engine image searches.


Sunday, January 20, 2008

Once More Into The Navel

I think neuroses, at least from my perspective, break down into three categories: social, existential, and personal/OCD. Social neuroses manifest themselves in constant worry about what others think of you, with the presumption that the judgment will be negatively critical, and a concomitant avoidance of and unease with much interpersonal interaction. Existential neuroses involve an unhealthy occupation with the "big questions," such as the meaning of life, the problem of evil, the mystery of existence vs. non-existence, etc. that, instead of being interesting amusements or rewarding studies, become sources of angst and unhappiness due to the lack of concrete answers to them, the possibility that there are not answers to them, and/or the possibility that the answers are unpleasant. Personal/OCD neuroses are patterns of behavior (such as using a worry stone, or endlessly revising or redoing work to get it to make it "perfect"), thought (such as a constant vigilance for numerical patterns in anything and everything), or environmental control (such as having your books arranged in just a particular way), that attempt to relieve or ameliorate general anxieties. An uneasiness with and dislike of the unknown or the new goes along with this. In my case, for example, I don't like to drive places I've never been, particularly because I worry about not being able to find parking.

But are these neuroses, particularly those of a social kind, just a sort of negative self-obsession and narcissism? I mean, what else would you call the belief that you're important enough that anyone would pay attention to you at all, let alone expend the energy to judge you? I must admit, there are times when I'm being self-deprecating or openly insecure that I'm passive-aggressively fishing for ego-stroking compliments about how fabulous I am. That strikes me as rather egotistical.

Yet is worrying about if your neuroses are just a self-hating species of narcissism just another neurosis? Or is worrying about worrying about if your neuroses are just a self-hating species of narcissism just the ultimate expression of narcissism? Does any of that even make sense?!? My brain hurts now.

Well, At Least I'm SUBTLE About It!

Your Score:
The Subtle Neurotic

You scored 60 anxiety, 90 awkwardness, and 43 neuroticism!

You have all the makings of neuroticism without any of the amusing trappings--you are The Subtle Neurotic! Plagued by doubt, fears, and worries, you are much more likely to have a quiet existential crisis off on your own than to bite your fingernails. You worry a lot over social situations, but take heart--chances are, you're not nearly as awkward as you feel you are. The best advice I can give you? Confide your worries in someone--no matter how irrational they seem. You're far too likely to keep everything bottled up.

Your high anxiety score implies that you are unable to relax, worry about the future often, and probably are plagued by irrational fears and self-doubt.

Your high awkwardness score implies that you are socially nervous, probably have difficulty with conversation, and perhaps feel uncomfortable in large groups of people, such as at parties.

Your low neuroticism score implies that you don't exhibit subtle neurotic behaviors--your nails are probably an acceptable length, your pencils aren't covered with bite marks, and your bookcase isn't arranged alphabetically by genre. Congrats!

Skimpy Sundays

(Via Bill in Exile [NSFW])

Friday, January 18, 2008

Fish Master Wormhole Technology!

A bridge between two tanks allows fish to swim between two "islands" in a coffee shop. Awesome!


A man creates a model of General Grievous' ship from Revenge of the Sith using thirty pounds of Legos and nine months of painstaking work. I know I should be aghast at all that time and effort put into such a totally geeky thing, but A) it's his time to do whatever he wants with, and B) it's FRICKIN' AWESOME AND I WANT ONE! I bow before this Grand Master of Geekery.

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Semper Sci-Fi

I've been on a bit of a military sci-fi kick of late, and, though of course I'm no expert and can't claim to have read even a goodly portion of what's out there, I have noticed a trend in what I have read: military sci-fi seems to have a very large body of work by and/or about Marines. Have I just read a skewed sample, or am I on to something? Any more dedicated sci-fi fans care to confirm or refute my impression? And if it is a correct impression, what is it about Marines that attracts them to writing sci-fi, or attracts others to write sci-fi about them? Any insights from current and/or former Marines (if there are any in the audience)? Scott?

Speaking of Marine-centered military science fiction, the best of the bunch I've read lately are this series of books by Steven L. Kent about a future where Marines are clones. Told in the form of a memoir or autobiography, it's clear, crisp prose, solid world-building, and well-paced plotlines make it a thoroughly entertaining, and occasionally thought-provoking, read. The gender politics are little less progressive than one would want (basically, there are no women in the books, and what ones there are aren't exactly empowered or anything other than cardboard cut-outs with boobs), but overall highly recommended.

Porn Star Names

People can't help what their parents name them. They can, however, control their nicknames. Why, therefore, would a VP of a major online retailer call herself "Stormy Simon"?!? Maybe "customer relations" has a different meaning at Hey, it IS all about the O!

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Monday, January 14, 2008

Fuck The English!

Down with the Sassenach oppressors and their tyrannical library classifications! 'Tis the greatest victory of the Scot since Bannockburn, I tell you!

Beauteous Bookstores

The 10 Most Beautiful Bookstores in the World. Ah, but is aesthetic architecture and design truly a beautiful bookstore make? Well, yes, on one level. But a bookworm's vision of a beautiful bookstore involves much more idiosyncratic and intangible criteria involving memory, emotion, the stock, etc. Many a store that would be considered ugly in a purely aesthetic sense, but be beautiful in the eyes of its loyal customers. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder!

(Via Bookninja)

New Site

io9 is the new jewel in the crown of the Gawker blog empire, billed as a blog "strung out on science fiction." Daily spoiler reports, movie, TV, and book reviews, science news, futuristic speculation and art criticism make it the perfect read for any nerd. In sum, it RAWKS, and you need to check it out!

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Thursday, January 10, 2008

Best. Spam. Title. EVER.

"Nubian naughtiness is the BEST!" Yes, spammer; yes it is.


...yeah, haven't been much with the blogging this week. Why? Well, maybe because the most exciting thing happening to me at the moment is that my face has decided to peel like wallpaper in a steam room, while simultaneously gushing enough oil to make me eligible for OPEC membership.

Oh, and my
Prada glasses? The pads on the nose are for shit. Seriously, one already broke off and had to be replaced. Meanwhile, I had just had to adjust them so the frame wasn't digging into my nose, but it's all wobbly and will probably break off any day now. After all the money I spent on them, I'm a bit pissed.

Fascinating, huh? That's been my week.

Monday, January 07, 2008

Idle Thought

Do you think someday someone will study our junk mail as a method of gaining insight into modern culture? How about these for some conclusions (in bare-bones sketch form) one could draw: The preoccupation with Viagra and penis enhancement indicate an anxiety about masculinity. All the mortgage offers track with the housing bubble and its "debt is no big deal; you can have anything you want!" ethos, the American dream with a variable rate loan. The porn links disguised as personals reflect the atomism of the Internet Age, with its concomitant desire for true connection. And so on, and so on, overthinking egghead babble.

(Dissertators of the future: when you read this post, and I know you will, make sure to put me first in the acknowledgments!)

Friday, January 04, 2008


Damn refs, always getting in the way of a good game! (BTW, who knew rugby players wore bikinis?!?)

(Via Joe. My. God.)

Skimpy Sunday

(Via Vince Lambert [NSFW]; The Sword [NSFW])

Thursday, January 03, 2008

Nip Tuck

As you can see, we've had a small facelift! More comprehensive plastic surgery will come in the future, but for now the fabulous new blue background is just that dash of novelty the layout needed to keep fresh and interesting. Much thanks to my template engineer, the indomitable, the incomparable, the in-sinkable (go with it) Cindy Best (aka the Notorious C.A.B.)!

TWoP General Hospital Forum FAQ: 2008 Edition


Scrubs: Patrick and Robin.

Liaison/Jiz: Jason and Liz. Liaison is often used by those either fans of, or indifferent to, the couple, while Jiz is most often used by those who don't like the pairing.

Soily: Sonny and Emily. We like to forget that coupling ever happened (skeevy!), but it comes up from time to time.

Nem/Num: Nik and Emily.

Journey: Jason and She Who Must Not Be Named (see below).

Rexis: Ric and Alexis.

LnL2: Liz and Lucky. Believe it or not, those two crazy kids were once soulmates!

Rye: Ric and Skye

Sason: Sonny and Jason. The love that dare not speak its name.

JaSam: Jason and Sam.

Skate: Sonny and Kate.


PFMs: Poo-Flinging Monkeys. The bunch of incompetent hacks who "write" this awful, awful show.

BSC!: Bat-Shit Crazy! Used often as a prefix, as in "BSC!Sam."

xxx!xxx: The exlamation point is often used as an intensifier when talking about the
most prominent trait of a character or storyline, since subtlety isn't GH's strong suit. Thus, crazy Sam is now BSC!Sam, a drugged out Lucky is Pills!Lucky, an ectoplasmic Alan is Ghost!Alan, etc.

SWMNBN: She Who Must Not Be Named. The not-at-all-dearly-missed Courtney. Also known as CopKilla, Whoretney, and a host of other nicknames bestowed on her with love. The kind of love that's really the putrid bile of hate.

TIIC: The Idiots In Charge. Again, the "writers" who inflict all of this pain and torment upon us.

TFGH: Typical Fucking General Hospital, or Totally Fucking General Hospital, or That Fucking General Hospital, or... you get the picture.

ONS (or 3NS): One Night Stand, usually used in reference to the night of passion between Liz and Jason that led to Jake. Also known as the Three Night Stand because, as soap chronologies are wont to do, one GH night equaled three days of real time.

SORAS: Soap Opera Rapid Aging Syndrome. The Soapworld pandemic whose major symptom is a strange localized distortion in the timestream that allows soap children to go away to camp or boarding school or even just their bedroom one age, and come back ten years older, usually either a hot teen stud or a gorgeous vixen.

NULOCH: No Upper Limit On Carly Hate. Because sometimes there are no words to express the depths of hatred one has for that shrieking shrew!

NULOLH: No Upper Limit on Lulu Hate. Because sometimes there are no words to express the depths of hatred one has for that obstinate little twit!

ABCD: ABC Daytime, the division of the network charged with overseeing the network's soap operas. Not doing a terribly fine job of it, considering the low-quality of said soaps in recent years.

GV: Greg Vaughan (Lucky)

JB: Julie Berman (Lulu)

KMo: Kelly Monaco (Sam)

KMc: Kimberly McCollough (Robin)

JT: Jason Thompson (Patrick)

TG: Tony Geary (Luke)

BH: Becky Herbst (Liz)

RH: Rick Hearst (Ric)

NLG: Nancy Lee Grahn (Alexis)

TC: Tyler Christopher (Nikolas)

RC: Robin Christopher (Skye)

SBu: Steve Burton (Jason)

MB: Maurice Bernard (Sonny)

LW: Laura Wright (Carly)

NL: Natasha Livingston (Emily)

GF: Genie Francis (Laura)

JZ: Jackie Zeman (Bobbie)

JG: Jason Gerhardt (Cooper)

JD: Josh Duhon (Logan)

LL: Lindze Letherman (Georgie)

KS: Kirsten Storms (Maxie)

SR: Sebastien Roche (Jerry Jacks)

BA: Bradford Armstrong (Spinelli)

MW: Megan Ward (Kate)

JE: Jane Elliott (Tracy)

IR: Ingo Rademacher (Jax)


Larry: What some call Lucky as portrayed by Greg Vaughan, who, as a result of writing (and perhaps acting choices) comes off as rather dim (if so, sooooooooooo hot). Refusing to acknowledge that the son of Luke and Laura can be so dumb (yet so hot), they hypothesize that Helena and Faison never let the real Lucky go, instead sending out this simulacrum.

Borg/St. Jasus/Blinky: The stoic, blinking hitman with a heart of gold, friend of babies and old people everywhere, so good he can shoot "only people who deserve it" at twenty yards while shackled and handcuffed, the Christ-like (in Guza's twisted psyche) Jason Morgan.

Kate's Hair: Kate's haircut can bring about world peace, it's so wonderful!

The Shiny: Becky Herbst/Liz's hair is so pretty and shiny that, on bad days when we can't stand whatever stupid-ass storyline she's in, many of us just zone out and let The Shiny, Pretty Hair soothe us into docility.

Whoretney, CopKilla, etc.: (See SWMNBN above.)

Pipster: Epiphany.

MyKill: "Sweet," hormone-deficient Michael, who killed AJ until the PFMs figured out having a kid kill his parent wasn't such a great storyline. Even after it was retconned that someone else actually killed AJ (or "killed," if you're one of those who go "lalalalalalala" when the subject comes up and insists he's really alive and well with Stefan on an island somewhere), Dylan Cash's portrayal of the kid remains really creepy, and we're all sure he's a budding sociopath. How such a thing could happen when he has such wonderful role models, such as his mob kingpin father, holy hitman Uncle Jason, and screeching harpy of a mother, I HAVE NO IDEA, but there it is.

SonnyBucks: Sonny's coffee business, where everyone goes for lattes and "secret" meetings in Sonny's office in the back.

Moobster: Sonny. Unfortunately, we are occasionally "blessed" with love scenes in which Sonny takes off his shirt and shows us his stunning pair of man-boobs.

The Baby Whisperer/The Woman Whisperer (TM Schmanglang): Jason. St. Jasus just has a way with the babies and womenfolk. He understands them and makes them feel safe and comfortable and, of course, in love with him. It's natural really; women and babies are inferior by nature and thus respond to commanding virility. It's science.

ShrewLu: Lulu, who has morphed into a grating bitch who snots and snits at everyone due to the PFMs not knowing what to do with a popular younger character other than to turn her into what, in their minds, is the perfect female character: Carly. *shudder*

In-Jokes, Jargon, and Peculiar Expressions

The Coast of Bolivia: The quintessential proof of the writers' incompetence and lack of intelligence. It's a long story, but the gist of it is that some brilliant writers gave Bolivia a coastline off of which Alcazar's yacht was moored. Only problem is that Bolivia is a landlocked, mountainous country. Yes, it did, once, have a coastline that it lost to Chile in the War of the Pacific, but that was 1883, so there is not even partial credit: it was just a colossal fuck-up.

The Gummi Bear Mafia: Since Sonny and Jason head the "good" mafia that doesn't deal in drugs and prostitution, and only kills people who "deserve it," the only activities we can come up with that keeps Jason in leather jackets and penthouses is smuggling in contraband gummi bears from Canada or something. That and gay porn. Because who doesn't like gummi bears and gay porn?

The Closet: Where interesting, well-loved characters (often veterans, but not always) with tons of story potential are locked in between the two minutes of screentime they are given every six months so as not to wander onto the set and take away precious minutes of Carly and Jason with such detestable things as "talent" and "history."

Awesome Writer (TM Serial Drama): The one GH writer who actually seems to care about such silly things as plot, characterization, pacing, and continuity. He or she, sadly, is only let out of The Closet every few weeks. Sometimes also known as One Good Writer (OGW).

The Barge: A cruise ship refuge for all of those who've grown sick and tired of this awful, awful show. A glamorous setting where all the men are shirtless, Laura isn't a wig on a stick, and the Mob is a thing to abhor, not celebrate. If you need a vacation, hop a launch and come aboard!

Flying Barware/Glassware: When people get angry on this show, glasses start flying.

Jazz Hands: One of Sonny's oh-so-charming ticks is a hand motion we like to refer to as "jazz hands."

Purple Leotard: There's really no explanation needed, is there?

Snow Globe Queen: SWMNBN could apparently stare at a snow globe for hours. Also, she was easily distracted by shiny objects.

Bullet of Love/Shot to the Head: True love. Sonny shot Carly in the head as she gave birth to his child, but this was, somehow, a sign of their codepend... I mean, love, not a signal that their relationship might not be all that healthy, or that a life in the mob might not be all that safe and secure an environment.

PodPeople: "
Pod people are when TIIC (The Idiots In Charge) bring back fabulous, well-loved characters from the past and render them unrecognizable. For example, Holly Sutton Scorpio turned up during the Monkey Virus storyline holding the antidote for ransom while dozens of people, among them her former stepdaughter, lay dying. Then she, Luke and Robert went off and had hijinks in the jungle, where, among other things, she played Luke against Robert and made a pass at Dillon." (Hatpin 5502)

Reindeer Sweater: Back when Jason was Jason Quartermaine, Goody Two-Shoes Med Student, and not St. Jasus of the Borg, he was apt to wear some... interestingly dorky clothing. The reindeer sweater is the most infamous of these sartorial choices.

Teh Evul!/Teh Hotness!/Teh XYZ:
"It's a play on all the crazy fans (on other boards, obviously) who can't type properly. Sometimes !!11!! is tacked on at the end. We also use OMG TEH EVUL when someone is particularly bad (or we're supposed to see him/her as such)" (dubbel zout 5504).

Retcon: Retroactive Continuity. When a show goes back and rewrites history to accommodate present-day storylines. An example of this working would be Nikolas being Laura's son by Stavros Cassadine; an example of this not working (and being a complete mess) would be Sam's ever-evolving backstory, from salvage operator to secret lovechild of Alexis Davis to con artist.

Jason's Box of "Secret" Pain: Where Jason keeps all of his painful memories and emotions. Physically, it's a glossy black box filled with pictures of Michael as a baby (when he was cute and before he became a serial-killer-in-training), Robin, and, now Jake kept on the top shelf of Jason's hall closet, next to the gun lockbox that is never actually locked. Metaphorically, it's all of Jason's blinky angst. The "secret" part comes from the fact that, while ostensibly locked away behind Jason's stoic demeanor, actually just about everyone knows about it.

The Glittery Hoo-Ha: Carly's magical vagina, that ensnares every man that comes in contact with her, making them believe that a selfish, shrieking harpy is actually the perfect woman. Lulu has, of late, developed a Junior Glittery Hoo-Ha that is irresistible to any younger man in PC, despite the fact that she, too, has become a selfish, shrieking harpy. Because these writers are so twisted, that's what they think makes a strong heroine: a bitch that all the men want to bone, despite the fact that her personality should repel any sane person in the vicinity.

"braveandstrongandloveswithherwholeheart": How the PFMs want us to see Carly, as an admirably brave and strong woman fiercely loyal to her friends and family, and not just a selfish, crazy-ass shrew with a voice modulation disorder. Originally taken from a eulogy delivered several years ago when Carly "died" (unfortunately, it didn't stick).

Word!/Wordy McWordersons!: Expressions of profound agreement with another poster's comments.

Hee! and Bwah!: Expressions of amusement at another poster's comment or something on the show.

The Goat Pictures: The hypothetical photographic evidence of ABCD president Frons' affair with a goat that Guza (head writer) and Jill Farrell Phelps (executive producer) use as blackmail to keep their jobs on this show, despite their complete lack of talent, blatant misogyny, lack of any sort of common decency, skewed morality, disdain for the genre and its fans, and complete ineptitude.

Pirates in Em's Pants: When Emily and Nik were searching for an old Quartermaine treasure, there was a concurrent flashback storyline between a Quartermaine ancestress (who somehow looked just like Emily WHO IS ADOPTED) and a Cassadine pirate who looked just like Nik. You know, the usual suckiness.

Crazy Bitch (TM TheLabRat):
That mysterious language formed of tortured language and "Whaaaaaaaaa?" logic in which the bat-shit crazy think and communicate.

The House of Rage and Folding Laundry: The Spencer household before Liz and Lucky's divorce. There was lots of rage flying and laundry being folded (an act Liz used to try to avoid unpleasant confrontations) before those two finally called it quits.

Hot But: Sam's hot tub of "but" sex. Originally a typo for "hot tub" (poor portiapm is still blushing!), it has since been embraced by the board as a term for Sam and her skanky pool of sex. Because we're all twelve years-old.

Chucklesville: The imaginary alternate universe where Closet characters, identical twins of the sadly deceased, and dearly missed favorites are off doing their own, actually good, soap. Inhabitants include Hooper Barrett, the twin of Coop; Lucy, Kevin, and Sigmund; AJ; Lucas; and Real!Holly.

The Army of Hotness: My crazy-ass idea that Coop is actually the genetic wellspring of a whole army of super-soldiers secretly created by the government. They're tough, good under pressure, and insanely hot. It's a complete and utter delusion, but it's damn nice to picture.

The Rock: No, not the strapping, eyebrow-raising wrestler/movie star, but the lucky styrofoam rock that got to do the one thing we all wish we could do: knock Carly out and shut her the hell up!

Monthday (TM carolyng): The unit of time that allows Halloween and Thanksgiving to be both one day and one month apart from each other in that nexus of spacetime dysfunction we call Port Charles. We think it has something to do with the wormholes that apparently riddle Upper New York State, allowing not only PC's residents to get from one end of town to the other in five seconds flat, but also connecting PC to Montreal, the Hudson Valley, Manhattan, the Caribbean, Paris, Turkey, and the coast of Bolivia via a leisurely five minute plane ride or car trip, as well as existing in divergent yet simultaneous timelines irrespective of sense, logic, or the laws of physics. Apparently, the writers of this awful, awful show have minds that work in non-Euclidean geometries straight out of Lovecraft's nightmares.
Ia Cthulhu F'htagn!

OMG, This Awful, Awful Show!: A common cry of pain heard when the insane wretchedness of this show gets to us and our brains just shut down. Also abbreviated as TAAS.

Stanvils (TM Split Ends): The blindingly obvious signs and portents that telegraph important events, especially character deaths, before they actually happen. These tend to be things like sudden mentions of characters we haven't seen in a while (when they're about to come back and/or die) or having everyone in town say, "I'll kill you!" to some villain so that when said villain dies everyone's a suspect. Named in honor of Stan, the be-Hawaii-shirted, oft-recast, and thoroughly unimportant Token Black Man filling part of this show's minimal minority quota; also, beloved son of Epiphany, computer genius, and communist agitator for the mob. May he rest in peace. At least until they somehow resurrect him for some other asinine story.

The Most Romantic Storyline EVER (or EVAH!): According to Bob Guza, the greatest love story of our, or possibly any, time is the tale of a Russian Prince and his tumor-induced hallucinations of his dead fiancee. Because noting says "romantic" like pseudo-necrophilia with an imaginary ghost so happy to be dead she's grinning like a loon most of the time! It's the stuff of fairy tales, you know.

Snarkoleptic/Snarkolepsy (TM elizabethamsith): The state of utter exhaustion with this awful, awful show in which, a
s Schmangalang puts it, "It's not even fun to make fun of it anymore!" it's so boringly and consistently horrific. So you end up either a nap or only half-paying attention while watching it, and yet you still go on the board to rip it.

This list is neither exhaustive nor comprehensive, but it should give you some idea just what the hell we're babbling on about. New terms crop up all the time, so this list should be updated occasionally. But if you see a term or acronym you don't understand, don't feel bad, just ask! We're really a very friendly bunch. We won't bite. (We may accidentally take a chunk of flesh while wailing and gnashing our teeth at the stupidity and horridity of this awful, awful show, but we'd never bite intentionally!)

Wednesday, January 02, 2008

Move Over, Bookninja!

Got the following email yesterday:

Dear Frank:

Ten years ago, Yale-educated Elizabeth D. Samet began teaching English literature to future Army officers at West Point military academy. It was pre-September 11, a time of peace, when none of Samet's students appeared to have combat in their future. But after that fateful day, everything changed; the Army was mobilized, and the United States was embroiled in a war that put all of her former and current students in danger of being deployed.

Intimate and poignant, SOLDIER'S HEART chronicles the various tensions inherent in military life as well as the ways in which war has transformed Samet's relationship to literature. Fighting in Iraq, Samet's former students share what books and movies mean to them—the poetry of Wallace Stevens, the fiction of Virginia Woolf and J.M. Coetzee, the epics of Homer, or the films of Bogart and Cagney. "Literature helps them to understand their own increasingly complicated lives," Samet explains. Their letters in turn prompt Samet to wonder exactly what she owes to cadets in the classroom.

Samet also considers the role of women in the army, the dangerous tides of religious and political zeal roiling the country, the uses of the call to patriotism, and the cult of sacrifice she believes is currently paralyzing national debate. Ultimately, Samet offers an honest and original reflection on the relationship between art and life. In addition, SOLDIER'S HEART was recently named one of the 100 Notable Books of 2007 by The New York Times.

I am writing today on behalf of Farrar, Straus and Giroux to see if you would like to receive a copy of SOLDIER'S HEART: Reading Literature Through Peace and War at West Point to review or discuss on your website, CODE PINK: Women for Peace. More details about the book and the author --- including an excerpt and reader's guide --- can be found online at .

Samet's podcast interview with Sam Tanenhaus can be found on The New York Times' website at

Newsweek's feature interview with the author can be found at

"A thoughtful, attentive, stereo-type breaking book…[Samet] offers a significant perspective on the crucial social and political force of honor." --- The New York Times Book Review.

"Strong, deeply articulate…Elizabeth Samet…gives us some provocative glimpses into the military mind-set." ---Chicago Tribune

"Absolutely fascinating…Her book explores serious issues --- moral questions about courage and obedience --- but with graceful writing and flashes of humor. I know of no other new book that's a better choice for any reading group that loves to debate literature and politics." ---USA Today

Feel free to get in touch for a review copy, to request an interview with the author, or if you have any questions or comments. Thanks for your time, and I look forward to hearing from you.

Best wishes,

Anna Jarzab

I don't know how I got on the poor woman's contact list, but I'm rather tickled by it and almost tempted to email and get an interview with the author. "So, Dr. Samet, West Point plebes: bossy bottoms or voracious tops?" *LOL*

Tuesday, January 01, 2008


Y'all, I'm really starting to think I have a case of the SADs. I've just been so down and kinda bleak all through the holidays. I don't remember being seasonally depressed before, and I hardly go out so you'd think lack of sunshine wouldn't be a problem for me, but that's what it feels like. But, then, maybe I'm just in a funk, because I don't feel depressed-depressed, just crummy.

Oooooooooooooooh! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

To Auld Aquantaince!

Happy New Year, everyone!
Here's to a safe, happy, and prosperous 2008!