June 2nd, 2008


Dear Madonna,
Go sit your tired ass down. This album sucks so bad it almost makes American Life decent by comparison and that's just six shades of wrongness. Write a memoir, maybe a screenplay, and for fuck's sake start speaking like the Detroit chick you are. Basically what I'm saying is let's have less of you.
Dear Fundamentalist Hillary Clinton Supporters Who Threaten To Vote For McCain When/If She Doesn't Get The Nom,
Fucking die in a motherfucking fire you goddamned daft cunts. My own personal hatred of Republicans borders on mystical, and you're all fast becoming a whole new subset of that blind hatred. If you believe in anything, even a remote ideal of what the Democratic party and Liberalism in general is about at its core and yet you'd still cast a vote for The Manchurian Candidate Methuselah Bush III John motherfucking McCain, you should be dipped in Gravy Train and ripped apart by wild dogs. Fucking tools, the lot of you.
Dear John Cusack,
I love you. I heart you. I adore you. You, sir, are truly the best thing ever. Before I die, I hope that we can attend a baseball game together and drink copious amounts of overpriced draft beer as deranged fan boys of the game. That would be better than Biscuit-on-Cusack sex in my opinion. Hell, that WOULD be Biscuit-on-Cusack sex! All of that having been said, I would drink your bathwater. Because it would be the essence of awesome.
Dear LiveJournal Folks Reading This Right Now & Who Are Having A Bad Day,
I'm sorry you're having a bad day. Don't do anything that would be considered a bad choice that will wreak havoc in your lives somewhere, and learn better ways of letting shit go. Sometimes it's just not worth the energy you waste fighting for it and sometimes it is, but if you're as tired and fed up as I get from time to time, there's nothing wrong with just unplugging from someone/something and stating clearly "Yeah - not doing this right now. Don't ask me for anything and don't expect anything from me until I get some stuff figured out. Lest I slay you."
Dear Ebola Ass-Flu,
You seriously need to fuck off and die. I am SOOOOOOO not even kidding. I've had kidney stones that weren't as horrifying as you are. You've made your point, now either fuck off and die, or go ahead and kill me. HATE. YOU.
Lloyd Dobler

John Cusack Is My Jesus

Proust Questionnaire: John Cusack

He may be sewn into memory holding a boom box above his head, but John Cusack, 41, will display his gravity in War, Inc., a political satire he also wrote and produced, which is featured at the Tribeca Film Festival this month. Here, the romantic-comedy veteran shows his pensive side.

What is your current state of mind?
Bloodied and slightly doom-struck, but I am comfortable with these themes. I remain basically unbowed.

What is your greatest fear?
Beyond the normal issue of the mortality of my nearest and dearest, strangely it is a fear of inertia. If I stop, I may not be able to start again.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
Whenever I’m lazy enough to assume people think like me. It’s a kind of vanity that gets me in trouble a lot. Also, I tend to project a purity of heart into people who impress me, which is very child-like.

What is the trait you most deplore in others?
The inability to think for themselves. Or the need to define one’s core in five-minute sound bites.

Which living person do you most admire?
Living? Nelson Mandela would have to go down as one of the three great figures of the last century.

Which living person do you most despise?
Very tough question. They exist in the realm of war profiteers. These men and women are the lowest form of human consciousness, truly and completely spiritually fucked. Theirs is an amazing satanic dance: create a new market with war, bar competitors from the aftermath, then pay your own companies at a cost-plus basis, which guarantees profits, all at the taxpayers’ expense. They are the biggest welfare freaks on the planet.

On what occasion do you lie?
Only when awake or speaking or looking at someone …

What or who is the greatest love of your life?
The great white buffalo.

When and where were you happiest?
Hunting it.

Which talent would you most like to have?
Music. It seems the closest art to prayer and where the shamans roam.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
Take myself less seriously. And I would try not to be famous for at least a week or two as an adult.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?
I couldn’t say I have one besides the small amount of good I’ve done for other people.

If you were to die and come back as a person or thing, what do you think it would it be?
An angelic (not demonic) non-corporeal presence. Would like to travel light.

What is your favorite occupation?
It would be great to be a medium.

Who are your favorite writers?
I can only speak to what has inspired me lately—meaning stuff I have read or reread by Garry Wills, Bob Dylan, Cormac McCarthy, Mark Leyner, Naomi Klein, Hunter S. Thompson, and J. D. Salinger.

Who is your favorite hero of fiction?
Just happened to reread Salinger, and Zooey Glass made me very happy indeed.

Who are your heroes in real life?
Let’s go with Jesus. Not the gay-hating, war-making political tool of the right, but the outcast, subversive, supreme adept who preferred the freaks and lepers and despised and doomed to the rich and powerful. The man Garry Wills describes “with the future in his eyes … paradoxically calming and provoking,” and whom Flannery O’Connor saw as “the ragged figure who moves from tree to tree in the back of [one’s] mind.”

What are your favorite names?
I like the name Doctor Zhivago.

What is your greatest regret?
That I have lived selfishly or fearfully (when I have).

How would you like to die?
While dreaming—would be a great transition.

What is your motto?
An old Yugoslavian proverb I always come back to: “Tell the truth and run.”
Vanity Fair's Proust Questionnaire Archive | Marcel Proust's Answers

Videopost #34

Videopost #34
Poll #1198411 Oh hell, he's at it again!

What am I doing in this videopost?

Invoking the spirit of Anton Lavey.
Being a weirdo for no reason.
Trying to cut a fart even though I have a bad headache.
Killing people with my mind.
I have no fucking idea, man - you need serious help.