My Steve Fossett theory.

Eventually among all the items strewn across the wreckage they are going to find some Jack’s Links Beef Jerky wrappers. That’s right.

Steve Fossett was Messin ‘ With Sasquatch!

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Welcome to America

With all the things going on like the election, the economic bailout plan, this is what people care about.

These are the most popular stories on reuters.

1. 
   

   Heather Locklear arrested in California
   

2. Lawmakers reject bailout plan
3. Buffett’s “time bomb” goes off on Wall Street
4. McCain being McCain: new gambit or another payoff?
5. Stocks plummet after House rejects bailout bill  |  Video
   
6. Lawmakers reject bailout as markets swoon
7. U.S. Democrats seek Wall Street tax in bailout plan
8. Citigroup buys Wachovia banking, deals abound  |  Video
   
9. Stocks plunge on bailout vote, debt soars  |  Video
   
10. Europe forced into bank rescues as crisis spreads

So now what?

Ok, so last year Wachovia Bank purchased A. G. Edwards Investments. A supposed advantage for A. G. Edwards was the huge financial pool of Wachovia. Now less than a year later Wachovia has sold the massive banking side of its operation and kept its Mutual Funds branch and the investment branch, which was A. G. Edwards.

So essentially Wachovia has bought what was A. G. Edwards reputable name, and slapped Wachovia signs on it, and now become A. G. Edwards under a name the average Joe now associates with financial blundering and failure. (Wachovia)

This is more a case of lipstick having a pig slapped on it.

So what happens now?

Does anybody besides Warren Buffett know anything about money?

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Dandy Warhol show in Lawrence 9/26

Here are some pics I took at the Warhol show the other night. Oh and a video of “Godless” as well.

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What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.
- — William Morrow

BANAL

The Sleeziest Craigslist Ad Ever.

WTF Craigslist Ad

Scribefire test.

Just seeing if scribefire is working for me here.

The Boondock Saints

The Boondock Saints. Much like Kill Bill the whole movie is a diatribe. The movie doesn’t have so much as dialougue, but more like a continuous collection of people yelling verbosely.

I chose Rocco. He is in a quandry that he seems to be the only person who truly liked his junkie girlfriend’s cat, accidentally kills it, and the fact that people keep bringing it up drives him to just lose it. I think a true diatribe should be all in one moment. But this happens over 3 time frames.

Rocco: Fucking… What the fuck. Who the fuck fucked this fucking… How did you two fucking fucks…
[shouts]
Rocco: fuck!
Connor: Well, that certainly illustrates the diversity of the word.

Rocco: They can suck my pathetic little dick, and I’ll dip my nuts in marinara sauce just so those fat bastards can get a taste of home while they’re at it. (Slams fist on table which sets off the gun as well as killing the cat, splattering it all over the wall)

[after Rocco accidentally turns a cat into a splatter on the wall]
Murphy: I can’t believe that just fucking happened!
Rocco: Is it dead?

[after Rocco accidently kills his girlfriend's cat]
Connor: Donna’s gonna be angry about her cat.
Rocco: Fuck, she’s on every drug known to man. She’d have sold the thing for a dime-bag. Screw her.
[laughs]
Rocco: I do kinda feel like an asshole, though.
Connor: Yeah, Roc, you sound real remorseful there.

[Rocco has killed Donna's cat]

Rocco: I killed your cat, you druggie bitch.

Donna: What? Why?

Rocco: I thought it would bring closure to our relationship.

Donna: You killed my… my…

Rocco: [putting a gun to his head] Your what? I’ll shoot myself in the head if you can tell me that fucking cat’s name! Your what? Your precious, little…
Donna: Skippy! Skippy!
Rocco: Aw, Jesus! What color was it, bitch?

Rayve: Don’t you yell at her you fucking prick!

Rocco: Shut your fat-ass, Rayvie! I can’t go buy a pack of smokes without runnin’ into nine guys you’ve fucked!

American Beauty

Kevin Spacey as Lester Burnham. 

Why these are great diatribes:

Lester sums himself up in this movie in a single line. Lester Burnham: “Nope; I’m just an ordinary guy who has nothing left to lose.” The world has been screwing with Lester for quite some time. He comes to the realization that he has absolutely no joy in his life, and therefore makes a conscious decision to start simply doing whatever he pleases. Whether its working out in order to hit on his daughter’s high school cheerleader friend, or smoking pot he bought from her boyfriend, or simply buying his high school dream car. Any way, this movie has some fantastic dialogue. It makes you take an internal peek and makes you wonder, “Do I really like what I am doing with my life at this moment?” And if the answer is no, then why don’t I change it?

A sampling of many diatribes.  

Lester Burnham: My name is Lester Burnham. This is my neighborhood. This is my street. This is my life. I’m 42 years old. In less than a year I’ll be dead.

Of course, I don’t know that yet. And in a way, I’m dead already.

Look at me. Jerking off in the shower. This will be the high point of my day. It’s all down hill from here.

That’s my wife Carolyn. See how the handle on those pruning shears match her gardening clogs?

Thats not an accident.

That’s our next door neighbor Jim. And that’s his lover, Jim.

I’m exhausted just watching her. She wasn’t always like this. She used to be happy.

We used to be happy.

My daughter Jane. Only child. Janie’s a pretty typical teenager. Angry. Insecure. Confused.

I wish I could tell her that’s all going to pass, but I don’t want to lie to her.

Both my wife and daughter think I’m this gigantic loser. And they’re right. I have lost something. I’m not exactly sure what it is, but I know I didn’t always feel.. this…. sedated.

But you know what? It’s never to late to get it back.

Lester Burnham: It’s a great thing when you realize you still have the ability to surprise yourself. It makes you wonder what else you can do that you have forgotten about.

[last lines]
Lester Burnham: [narrating] I had always heard your entire life flashes in front of your eyes the second before you die. First of all, that one second isn’t a second at all, it stretches on forever, like an ocean of time… For me, it was lying on my back at Boy Scout camp, watching falling stars… And yellow leaves, from the maple trees, that lined my street… Or my grandmother’s hands, and the way her skin seemed like paper… And the first time I saw my cousin Tony’s brand new Firebird… And Janie… And Janie… And… Carolyn. I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me… but it’s hard to stay mad, when there’s so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I’m seeing it all at once, and it’s too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that’s about to burst… And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can’t feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life… You have no idea what I’m talking about, I’m sure. But don’t worry… you will someday.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles

It took me pretty much 2 days of searching off and on to find a copy of this clip. I finally found it on www.metacafe.com, but can not seem to find a way to embed their video player in wordpress. So I linked the above image, just click on it and it will open a new window with the clip.

Steve Martin as Neal Page. 

I think to an extent there is a lot of me in the Neal Page character. Somewhat mild mannered, non-assuming, roll with the punches and take things as they come. But, sometimes punches don’t roll and things just never seem to come. And there is usually a Del Griffith (John Candy) to remind you of that, every damned step of the way.

Why these are great diatribes: 

I love this car rental counter scene mostly because I have done some work dealing with extremely irate customers. You would be amazed at the things people will say and do to people who literally have no control whatsoever over their plight. I once tore up a $14.000 check because the guy who wrote it said, “The problem is this stupid bitch doesn’t know how to run a fucking register!” He eventually had to be escorted out of our store by our in house security. And that evening after closing I got a standing ovation from our 30 some odd cashiers.

The second diatribe here I am totally guilty of though. I can think of 2 instances in which I finally lost it and railed into a coworker so bad that they both quit the next day. It’s like I am not even aware that I am keeping this mental checklist inside my head and when they finally touch my last nerve I just spew every little flaw and and say all the things that everyone else has been thinking but didn’t have the balls to say.

Both times I actually felt bad after tearing into them, but work was a much better place once they were gone. And everyone kept coming up to me and thanking me for doing it.

The diatribes: 

Car Rental Agent: [cheerfully] Welcome to Marathon, may I help you?
Neal: Yes.
Car Rental Agent: How may I help you?
Neal: You can start by wiping that fucking dumbass smile off your rosy fucking cheeks! Then you can give me a fucking automobile: a fucking Datsun, a fucking Toyota, a fucking Mustang, a fucking Buick! Four fucking wheels and a seat!
Car Rental Agent: I really don’t care for the way you’re speaking to me.
Neal: And I really don’t care for the way your company left me in the middle of fucking nowhere with fucking keys to a fucking car that isn’t fucking there. And I really didn’t care to fucking walk down a fucking highway and across a fucking runway to get back here to have you smile at my fucking face. I want a fucking car RIGHT FUCKING NOW!
Car Rental Agent: May I see your rental agreement.
Neal: I threw it away.
Car Rental Agent: Oh boy.
Neal: Oh boy what?
Car Rental Agent: You’re fucked!

Neal: You know everything is not an anecdote. You have to discriminate. You choose things that are funny or mildly amusing or interesting. You’re a miracle! Your stories have NONE of that. They’re not even amusing ACCIDENTALLY! “Honey, I’d like you to meet Del Griffith, he’s got some amusing anecodotes for you. Oh and here’s a gun so you can blow your brains out. You’ll thank me for it.” I could tolerate any insurance seminar. For days I could sit there and listen to them go on and on with a big smile on my face. They’d say, “How can you stand it?” I’d say, “‘Cause I’ve been with Del Griffith. I can take ANYTHING.” You know what they’d say? They’d say, “I know what you mean. The shower curtain ring guy. Woah.” It’s like going on a date with a Chatty Cathy doll. I expect you have a little string on your chest, you know, that I pull out and have to snap back. Except I wouldn’t pull it out and snap it back – you would. Agh! Agh! Agh! Agh! And by the way, you know, when you’re telling these little stories? Here’s a good idea – have a POINT. It makes it SO much more interesting for the listener.

The Big Lebowski

John Turturro as Jesus Quintana: 

Why these scenes are a great diatribe. 

Ever had a nemesis? Or a person who just seems to dislike, even seems to hate you for no reason at all? I have had a few  a few. (But that’s another article) And “The Dude” played by Jeff Bridges, has many. From people he doesn’t know forcing their way into his apartment and pissing on his rug, to nihilist artists knocking him out, all the way to Jesus. Jesus Quintana that is. A man in his bowling league with a penchant for bad one piece leisure suits, and a need to dole out his own unique gospel.

The diatribe. Or diatribes in this case. 

Jesus Quintana: You ready to be fucked, man? I see you rolled your way into the semis. Dios mio, man. Liam and me, we’re gonna fuck you up.
The Dude: Yeah, well, you know, that’s just, like, your opinion, man.
Jesus Quintana: Let me tell you something, pendejo. You pull any of your crazy shit with us, you flash a piece out on the lanes, I’ll take it away from you, stick it up your ass and pull the fucking trigger ’til it goes “click.”
The Dude: Jesus.
Jesus Quintana: You said it, man. Nobody fucks with the Jesus.
Walter Sobchak: Eight-year-olds, Dude.

Jesus Quintana: What’s this day of rest shit? What’s this bullshit? I don’t fuckin’ care! It don’t matter to Jesus. But you’re not foolin’ me, man. You might fool the fucks in the league office, but you don’t fool Jesus. This bush league psyche-out stuff. Laughable, man – ha ha! I would have fucked you in the ass Saturday. I fuck you in the ass next Wednesday instead. Wooo! You got a date Wednesday, baby!