29 January 2005

the Supreme Ultimate Dictator at Large (part 3 of 3)

3. CULTURE - supreme ultimate dictator of culture.

a) while "Director of Culture" is an actual post that actually exists in a number of organizations, the SUD of Culture at Large would make no such pronouncements of his role in controlling our collective cultural whims. he would instead be more of a backstage presence -- along the lines of what Vince Vaughn has called "the guy behind the guy BEHIND the guy" and Paul has referred to as "the AntiChrist." indeed, the SUD would share a number of antichrist-ish traits, most notably a proclivity to draw people's attention away from issues of any consequence, as well as a quietly haunting mode of operation that keeps his power plays under the radar but nonetheless creates the distinct impression that he is Already Among Us. this subterranean mode of operation would have myriad manifestations, from the obviously insidious such as

1b) Miss Jackson's boobie-circle or
2b) Desperate Housewives or
3b) Spongebob Squarepants

to the more widely-accepted but no less damaging

1c) Communism disguised as dietary life-choice (aka vegetarianism) or
2c) Jew-controlled media or
3c) Log Cabin Republicans.

d) etc.

potential SUD at Large candidates:

- Pat Robertson (painful, obvious)
- Regis Philbin (widely influential, widely abhorred)
- Myself (perfect).

25 January 2005

supreme ultimate dicator - part two

2. IN THE BEDROOM - the supreme ultimate dictator (herewith s.u.d.)

a) immediately apparent is the fact that, if dictatorship of a nature that is both supreme and ultimate is to be achieved in the bedroom, it cannot be done alone -- anyhow, such a solo dictatorial dynamic has already been accomplished (as nearly as possible) by Onan [genesis 38:6-10]. also there would have to be more than one other person involved; in point of fact, an entire system would be needed, a veritable lair, a base of operation from which the promise of sexual dictatorship would emanate. it could be modeled to include the following elements.

1b) The Uniform - the s.u. dictator's uniform will have many of the standard characteristics of a military general's uniform -- medals on the lapel, bars on the shoulders, etc -- and though it be made of coarse, stain-resistant fabric, it would be neither the standard military muted green color nor a lily-ass white. it would hold the promise and excitement of the dictatorship a given subject is about to experience, and could therefore incorporate a number of colors, ranging from muted pinks to royal purples but excluding taupe, which is tasteless. there would be a wide selection of different colored uniforms with a variety of interchangeable accoutrements so as to best fit the s.u.d.'s relative (but always dominant) mood. the s.u.d. would prefer to dress privately.

2b) The Persuasion - this would seem a tricky one, as in order to be as widespreadly dominant as possible, the s.u.d. needs accept all comers to the bedroom. however, it only need be recalled that a fine grade of dictatorship can be accomplished via rejection: for example, even if the s.u.d. were vigorously bi, under no circumstances should bob dole be granted audience.

3b) The Staff - though extensive -- including an operations analyst, solicitation team and event planner -- of all the staff members it is the secretary who would hold the duties most vital to the s.u.d.'s bedroom lair activities. the secretary would take minutes from his/her post just at the foot of the bed, and later make recommendations as to how the operations could be streamlined so as to maximize the number of subects who are supremely and ultimately dictatored. the secretary would be a person the s.u.d. trusts on an intimate level -- a level not easily accomplished, as it is a hard thing to fully trust a person who has watched you lick fecal froth from your mustache or accidentally swallow a string of anal beads.

4b) etc.

bedroom s.u.d. candidates:
- barbara streisand [domineering & self-entitled, & loud; little else]
- jack palance [domineering & crazy; also arthritic & old]
- errol flynn [masterfully domineering & with the necessary panache; also dead]
- keith sweat [strong]

[SUBSEQUENT SKETCHES TO FOLLOW]

24 January 2005

the supreme ultimate dictator -

i had a dream where my fatal beauty editor told me to write a piece about “the supreme ultimate dictator.” sure, i’d love to, i said.

i hung up the phone and several problems immediately arose. firstly and most obviously was the choice of terminology: i had to operate under the presumption that the words “supreme ultimate dictator” would comprise the title or, at the very least, the first portion thereof (eg, The Supreme Ultimate Dictator: a Day in the Pants of). which is fine, except that it gives way to some very problematic content-related problems. like, what in the f do i know about dictators? not so much. but what if the editor had not solicited a piece for the political pages, but rather a commentary about supreme ultimate dictatorship in the arena of Music, or the Bedroom, or even the Culture at large? (since those are what essentially make up the main-page tabs on the fatal beauty website, i decided that i had no need to spend my energies crafting an instructional piece, like How to Raise the Supreme Ultimate Dictator, or a reality-ish biopic number like My Big Fat Obnoxious Supreme Ultimate Dictator.)

this combobulation of thought comprised hardly more than the opening sequences of the dream; what followed was my decision to write outlines for all of the above possibilities. for some obvious reason it was much simpler to write and submit several essays than it was to find out what i was supposed to be writing. just as dream-reasons are always obvious, dream-logic is always immediate: i got out some yellow scratch paper and began frantically scribbling notes, without the slightest pause to consider whether my chosen thesis was a winner. the first candidate was sketched out thusly.

1. MUSIC. supreme ultimate dictator : the elton john/tom jones dichotomy

a) the readership could spend all day trying to decide on music's s.u. dictator and not get anywhere. or give up, decide to be ironic and pick ashlee simpson. ..it is painful enough when the author decides to be ironic, let alone the readership. therefore we will skirt the issue by proposing that, were elton john and tom jones to mate, the product of their love would possess the charateristics necessary to dictatorially dominate the music world with a supremecy that, ultimately, could never be matched.

b) that's all we need. the whole essay will be spent distracting the reader from the fact that the thesis is patently absurd; distraction is much easier to write than supporting documentation. in the place of meaningful content will be absurdist suppositions such as

1b) in combination, elton's gliterati and tom's legendary sausage would serve to cause the stoutest of women to feel nubile and fresh, the huskiest of men to sway with what-is-this-thing-that-i'm-feeling uncertainty.

2b) based on the results of a nationwide (and made-up) karaoke study, tom & elton elicit from drunken audiences a desire to sing along that is unmatched. melded together, the resulting voice and lyrics would contain a power sufficient to start a fascist wave in the populace.

3b) the reverberations of this supremely-styled fascism would be felt in the public in ways that seemed at first trivial -- one day we awake to discover that basic cable is comprised solely of VHs 1 thru 46 -- but that would soon reveal the extremity of our subservience (mandatory & regulated man-purse carrying; supervised application of pubic-hair styling gel).

4b) etc.

potential titles:
- It's Not Unusual to Be a Candle in the Wind [marginal impact]
- Can You Feel the Pussycat [lends an uncertainty not suited to a supreme dictator]
- Don't Let Delilah Go Down on Me [strong--conveys sense of dictatorial command].

[SUBSEQUENT SKETCHES TO FOLLOW]

18 January 2005

: i used to think i had a good idea of right and wrong :

..now everything is so darn CONFUSING.

this makes me all excited to break stuff.

(F the M)

time for us to get Smooved.

...sometimes another person says words that express my feelings more completely and more complete-rightly than i ever thought possible for even myself to express. if you are reading this, then you already know that i have been thinking about you; i have been filled with a fulsome longing which very much desires to have the suitable outlet of you. i thought and i thought and no outlet presented itself in the eye of my mind. but, then, i happened upon some old pages of one of my literary mentors -- a last and true Man of Letters,Smoove B. and i found in his words--from a series of letters to one of his most seriously inciteful and beautiful loves--a force of explication that was like the huggy to my bear. like a tributary running into the river of my Desire for You. here are some excerpts:

"To make up for all the foolish things I said, tomorrow night, I will escort you to my crib, where I will prepare for you a romantic meal comprised of succulent lobster from the finest sea. We will both eat the lobster and enjoy a side dish of rice with it. There will also be a baked potato waiting for you, and some butter for you to place upon that potato. In addition, there will be sour cream, which you may also put on the potato if you so desire.

I will also serve juice."

then, he continues,

"..when we have each finished eating our meals, I will lay your body down on a bedsheet comprised of 100 percent silk, which I will purchase in advance from the finest store in this city. Then, just before we freak, I will inquire as to how you like the feel of the sheets. If you inform me that you do not like it, I will travel to other cities around the world until I locate a store that sells sheets that are more to your satisfaction. Then, I will purchase those sheets and return home to put them on the bed for you.

It is then that I will hit you doggy-style."

but it was from the subtlies--tucked in the margins at the end of a 1958 letter to Heloise Harshackle--that was elicited most exactly the manner in which my longings desire to be made even longer:

"While I am freaking you, I will whisper various things in your ear. Some of the phrases I will say to you are, "Baby, you are my everything," "You feel so good, I can't stand it," and, "Girl, ride me." There will also be candles and a CD featuring the music of Keith Sweat to create an atmosphere of unbridled romance, making you wet."

14 January 2005

cos friday always seems to be

about stealing worthwile things from elsewhere, allow me to share a pick-up line i stole from ron burgundy. not only for its simple elegance, but just as much for the fact that i used it last night And It Worked:

"i'm just going to put this out there; you can take it if you like, and if you don't, send it right back."

"okay."

"i .... i want to be on you."


13 January 2005

now, i know what you're asking yourself

and the answer is yes: i have a nickname for my penis. it's called Colonel Snappy, but i also nicknamed my testes -- my left one is james westfall and my right one is doctor kenneth noisewater.

...you play your cards right and you just might get to meet the whole gang.



[appropriated with permission of brian fantana, aka the bry man.]

12 January 2005

..pick yourself up and try again.

"no, no. you don't have to answer now -- i'll be asking you again tomorrow. enjoy your lunch."

11 January 2005

rock < me < hard place.

..that may be overstating things. but just a bit, and anyhow this is a blog. if i wanted to go around being proportionate and fastidiously rational all of the time, i would refer to myself as a blogonomist or a blogitist or the blogger general. but, nope, just a blogger. as such, i am free to invent crises as i see fit.

today's 2-dollar-tuesday crisis feels heavier than it might because i find myself suddenly regarding life in longer- and bigger-picture sorts of terms. fortunately this is somebody else's fault: there's a girl i keep thinking about. with me being not-so-distant from a relationship, i am something less than glib about asking her to wear my letterman's jacket. but for some gd reason i haven't been able to keep myself from drawing lifelong-compatibility hypotheticals, like picturing a wispy-haired me in a too-small leisure suit and her with laugh lines and a bad perm. ..and that is the issue: she will have laugh lines; she is familiar with joy in a way that will not dissipate with oldness. certain things you can just tell about people, you know? and certain things about yourself, too. like, i know that i shall be a sarcastic old fuck; i Will Wear Purple, too; and damned if i don't know with a pervasive, sub-atomic certainty that my old self would enjoy her old-self company--would get what old people call a "kick" out of watching her dance while i played percussion on my iron lung.

so. to put this crisis to bed, what i've decided is that i would ask her to marry me. every day. just to add it to my routine: rub eyes, get up, brush teeth, shave face, shoot her an email and ask if she wants to jaunt up to the casino and get hitched--if we left now, could make it back before lunch. when she and i are old and tired, maybe it'll be funny. either because old people like tired jokes, or 'cause it worked, and that's funny.

10 January 2005

What should you do if you find an Atheist?

i love crotchety old mr. gruff the athiest:

"coffee's the only thing that gives me solace!"


"...i feel empty. i'm gonna drink some more coffee."

06 January 2005

the ship : it be sinkin'.

at least, that is what we had agreed upon. now, in fact, it may prove wishful thinking, seeing as how we abandoned said ship in favor of a paste-colored and surprisingly scratchy but otherwise bang-up rubber raft. as we do not wish this decision to prove premature, we freely and continuously make declarative statements and ignore the fact that the ship's keel looks to be returning to even. it's still sinking: we done decided to jump ship, therefore the ship it must be sunk. and, if this means we must spend the better part of a week on a desert island with only anne heche and an ill-fitting taupe button-down to keep us company, then ... then f us. maybe if we pull alongside and shout, they'll let us back on the ship.

05 January 2005

i don't like to be caught up in the details.

look. i’m not trying to be difficult. but i believe if we’re going to make any real progress, then we can’t afford to be static. we need to leave our old ways behind us, move forward---and in order to accomplish our goals, we must look at the situation ergonomically. now. i have heard myself described by some of the members present as a "hair-splitter;" nothing could be further from the truth. unless of course we were to refine the accepted definition of "hair" to mean a determined Euclidian span which, though it may be bent and arranged to represent any number of slopes, nonetheless yields a function of time (t), enabling us to subtract t(i) from t(f), with a result of delta t; and, also, we understand "splitter" to mean a given object in motion through which we can arrive at delta v. --were we to put delta v [splitter] over delta t [hair], the resulting ratio would give us an accurate summary reading of forward motion and acceleration. then, in that situation, hey, absolutely: me equals hair-splitter. let’s just not lose sight of the fact that we’re never going to get anywhere without some more comfortable chairs.