UNIVERSAL DONOR: MA VIE EN CROUTE
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Universal Donor
We can ill afford another Klendathu You are just a number to me! And that number is: PAGES UD MADE: My Books Page My Reviews Page My Reference Page My Music Page My Pictures My Store UD-RELATED PAGES: My LiveJournal My MySpace music page My Flickr page My del.icio.us page My Last.fm page My Amazon Wishlist HEAVY ROTATION Dan Deacon: Bromst Animal Collective: Merriweather Post Pavillion Bon Iver: For Emma, Forever Ago Vampire Weekend: Vampire Weekend Fleet Foxes: Fleet Foxes BLOGS ETC claude le monde nuncstans rock 'em stock 'em tomato nation postmodern drunkard tuckova 22 ghastly mess constintina total virility fuzzysquid drunken bee stacey nightmare elyse from ANTM stereolabrat dark side points jf_franklin 123 i love you READ NOW brotherhood 2.0 NOT BLOGS ETC qwantz (dinosaur comix) go fug yourself the burg cat and girl book of ratings married to the sea icanhascheezburger fire joe morgan fivethirtyeight.com READ NOW hospitality on parade WEIRD LOVE dead amusement pks craters! all content © 2002-2010 Jeremy Broomfield
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Thursday, July 31, 2003
I tend to embrace new technology with the fervor of savage tribes embracing Christianity, or smallpox, or both. For example, I want the chip in my brain that allows me to do my banking from home while hunched over a toilet, puking up Indian food ("GLARFLE transfer $500 to Dr. Klein's gastroenterology practice as down payment... BLARG!... on future reconstruction of throat lining! LARF!"). Put me at the top of the list of potential Mars colonists, where I smell a business opportunity.
(Actually I smell a movie idea, which please don't steal: it's called Mars Needs Drugs, and it's about how the first Mars colony becomes self-sufficient after ten years, and they declare their independence from Earth because they have no drugs and they are bored bored bored. The powerful drug cartels of Earth immediately launch drug-filled ships to Mars, where they hope to sell at a premium in exchange for, oh, gold or dilithium crystals or something. Earth Cops try to regain control of the colony AND stop the drug dealers from poisoning the only remaining drug-free community, and also they want control of the gold or whatever. So lots of explosions and space fights: Earth cops fighting colonists and drug dealers; competing drug companies fighting each other in the lawless expanse of space; colonists trying to keep it together while getting high for the first time ever. Umm. Maybe some aliens with intoxicating blood, who everybody wants to kill. I dunno, it's a little sketchy at this point. Mostly a title. Don't steal it.) So when the Segway Human Transporter came out after its dizzying spree of fabulist hype, I was totally psyched, if a little disappointed. Yes, it looked totally gay. Yes, it was slower and more landbound than a jetpack, which is what we really all wanted. But dude, it's got two wheels and it stands up by itself -- with gyroscopes! If you ever went on family car trips to science museums, you remember buying gyroscopes (or, if you are a girl, watching your brother buy gyroscopes, because girls can't figure that shit out) that would completely shatter into arcs of useless metal after ten tugs of their red strings, which may not have instilled much faith in gyroscopic anything, but still, the word: oh, the word: "Gyroscope." Fuck, that's a good word. If you can ignore the initial images of rotating meat and vaginal exams. Which I can, friends! All I am having a very hard time saying is: Give me my Segway now, you fucktards. I don't need one at all, and I would turn into a flabby mass of whooshing nerdlinger in about three months, possibly making Star Trek hand gestures as I wheeled gyroscopically past, but it's a chance I'm willing to take because I am sick of people explaining why Segways are stupid/dangerous/unworkable. Open your fucking eyes, people! Embrace the future! Zoom! If the price we pay for increased mobility is a few crushed pedestrian toes or mutilated homeless children, so be it! Until I get my neoprene morphine harness, this will have to do! ZOOOOM! 0 comments |
OTHER REVIEWS: Scrabble NEW! LATEST BOOK REVIEWS: The Game Moneyball One-Upsmanship Siddhartha You need the Fear Not Guide to Life. Buy it already. ($4) Now available! The Broomfield Variations CD ($10) or go to The UD Store
MY IMAGINARY GIRLFRIENDS Chan Marshall Rotem of the IDF Eleanor Friedberger Amy Goodman Bernardine Dohrn ('69) Maya Rudolph Joanna Newsom Imogen Heap Caroline Dhavernas Shana Rae Ray DISALLOWED FOREVER "I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you!" - "from whence" - "...the exception that proves the rule" - any use of the question "spit or swallow?" - the phrase "drop trou" - fake-o reviewer verbs: "penned" for wrote "helmed" for directed "lensed" for whatever - "expat" - the euphemism "passed away" - pronouncing merci beaucoup as "mercy buckets!" (see also: "grassy-ass!") PET PEEVES "confinscated" - trying children "as adults" - "drownded" - misuse of reflexive pronouns, as when someone says "Please talk to Bob or myself." Come on people now. "Myself" is not just a fancy version of "me"! LEARN IT. - tattoos in the Courier font - any use of Comic Sans |