Monthly Archives: April 2009

Whatsa matta you

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Why you look-a so sad?

Remember that song? It was called “Shaddap You Face,” a parody on a stereotypical Italian mother telling her son that she feared he wouldn’t amount to anything. I remember the chorus:

Whatsa matta you? Hey! Gotta no respect.

Whaddya tink you do? Why you look-a so sad?

It’s-a not so bad. It’s-a nice-a place.

Ah, shaddap-a you face.

The rest of the words are funny, too — tune was like 27 verses long. I’ll have to look them up. It was kind of like “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” and “Macarena”: silly, catchy, but ultimately overplayed and eventually deep-sixed where it belonged.

OK. I hate weekends. Is that a bad thing? I think it’s because I lack a project. Well, that, and some other stuff. But I’m growing restless. Is it that I miss the aggravation? Could be. My hunch is that I’m going to have all I can handle come the end of the month when exam scores are sent. Then I’ll have me a project. Yeah.

I would like for you to comment on this drawing. Does anyone besides me see Mr. Limpet?

Discuss.

Fink, in a funk


Square pegs

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The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous Roman candles, exploding like spiders across the stars, and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes, ‘Awww…’

It’s good to run across people like that once in awhile, although I haven’t lately. The above quote (by beat generation poet Jack Kerouac) reminds me of this old Apple Computer ad…when was that anyway?…that featured the unmistakable voice of Richard Dreyfuss. Click here to watch.

At school, I see kids who are different but awesome, guided by their own drummer/spirit — and who are made to suffer on account of it. It makes me sad. Here’s to those people today. Be who you are. Turn over some tables in your life. Love something. I will heart you for it.

FO

Lie-niversary

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Now, I’m not dogging anyone for telling a fib. There are few of us in this world who could say they’ve never uttered a single untruth. But don’t you agree that if someone plans to tell a lie, she might at least endeavor to cover up her tracks? Or at the very least, not tell a lie that could easily be checked and later exposed?

If history teaches us anything, apparently not.

Janet Cooke, former reporter for the Washington Post, went down in flames on this day in 1981, after she had to give back the Pulitzer Prize because she ran a story about an 8-year-old heroin addict that was just plain made-up. I am trying this morning to empathize with her claim that once the initial story ran, the interest was so overwhelming that it was too late to retract it. When the Post checked out claims she made on her resumé — saying she’d studied at Vassar and the Sorbonne, and that she’d won an award with the Toledo Blade — and found them wanting, the jig was up.

Well, like my mother always said: the truth always comes out. And sometimes it’s really painful.

Again, today’s post is not a homily by a long shot. I ain’t no angel, believe it. But sheesh, if you’re going to tell a story in an effort to fool millions of people, at least have a plan regarding how you’re going to deal with the fallout. And it seems that having it happen to one person doesn’t necessarily discourage others.

Hmmm.

Fink, off to the school house

Photo: The Phil Donahue Show

Sometimes I like Mondays.

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Like today, for instance. While most everyone else goes back to work, I don’t. I like that. Actually, I am going to work, but not because I have to. Am I mental?

And sometimes, I must admit that I experience a bit of schadenfreude. Actually, I did this morning. Sorry, fiends: I have little tolerance for our boy Kanye West (sorry Kodye). For the record, I also hate the moronic South Park, but I gotta tell ya I laughed when I read that West got his comeuppance from the SP writers when they lampooned (read: lambasted) him on Wednesday’s episode for being completely and utterly out of touch, arrogant and narcissistic.

And honestly — “KanyeUniverseCity.com” ??? Who thought up that gem? Hmmm. Bet I know.

All right. In his defense, he appears to have taken the South Park slam to heart (bout time, Yeezy), by saying in his blog, in all CAPS (which I won’t do here):

[I need to] get past myself. I just want to be a doper person which starts with me not always telling people how dope I think I am.”

Well. There it is.

Head-scratcher: It took an idiotic, perverse cartoon to convince him that he’s a schmuck? And please, don’t post the Andy Kauffman “it’s all an act” theory. I will blast you. Too much evidence to the contrary. But again…some of his antics are borderline entertaining. Can you get through the following video (shot in Paris after he debuted his Louis Vuitton-inspired sneakers at a fashion show) without thinking “man on crack?”

Heh. Silly, but not surprising, coming from a guy who says his only regret is not being able to watch himself perform live.

Kanye, baby — there’s gotta be a way. Keep working on it.

FO