The Road

Author: Cormac McCarthy

Normally I go out of my way to avoid any book with a sticker on the cover proclaiming "Oprah's Book Club". I am afraid that by simply touching it I will become a militant, right-wing feminist. Despite that mark of cain appearing on the cover of "The Road", I simply couldn't ignore the glowing reviews, intriguing plot description and the fact that it won the Pulitzer Prize. After thumbing through it a little, I found no references to women with eating disorders or grossly exaggerated tales of drug addiction so I decided to give it a shot.

I'm glad I did. This post-apocalyptic tale of a father and son travelling through the ashes of a devastated world is a work of bittersweet brilliance from start to finish. The sense of crushing despair is palpable, you can almost feel the grit of the road crunching beneath your bootheels and taste the ashes on your tongue. The only small light in this darkness is the bond of love shared by the two nameless characters. It is a work of both staggering complexity and profound simplicity. McCarthy's grasp of the language is unparalelled with lines of descrpition and dialogue that would be just as at home in the works of Faulkner or Keats.

Okay Oprah, I'll give ya' this one. Don't for one second start thinking that I'm not on to your diabolical plan for world domination, however. She must be stopped! Who's with me!?!? I have a plan that involves a giant catapult and lots of chocolate cake. Because everyone knows that chocolate cake is Oprah's kryptonite. Or...Wait, no....Chocolate cake is MY kryptonite! Damn you, Oprah! I'll get you for this!

Score: 12/12 monkeys

National Poetry Month + Stephen Colbert = The Meta-Free-Phor-All

It's national poetry month, and if you need a break from crafting your couplet, hammering out your haiku or laying down your limerick, check out Stephen Colbert and Sean Penn going head to head in this hilarious Meta-Free-Phor-All.

Poetry isn't just for scrawny, pasty-faced gothic kids anymore. It's a great way to express yourself in a bad-ass, manly way. Just ask that woman who lives down the street from me who was the lucky recipient of my 300-page epic entitled: "I Found the Key to My Heart While Digging Through Your Garbage". In fact, she loved it so much, she sent me one entitled: "Restraining Order".

"You are ordered not to come within 200 yards"....Ah such magical verse. It just rolls off the tongue.

Oh Cruel Mario...How You Mock Me!

It's very late, I'm very tired and I should probably be sleeping right now, but I just happened to stumble across one of the funniest videos I've seen in a very long time and I felt the need to share it.

This running commentary of a session spent playing some of the hardest levels of Super Mario is riddled with obscenities and some of the greatest one-liners in the history of video game frustration. One of my personal favorites: "This is worse than The Davinci Code! The novel by Dan Brown AND the movie!"

It's quite long, but worth every minute. So crack a cold beer, sit back, and watch this poor sod's sanity completely unravel. I'm sure anyone who's ever owned a Nintendo can relate. In fact, the most common technical problem with this game system was a little glitch known as: "Smashed multiple times with a hammer". It wasn't even covered in the warranty.

Lullabies for Little Criminals

Author: Heather O'Neill

Does anyone truly remember what life was like when they were twelve years old? Did your mother die while you were too young to have any memory of her? Did your father have a crippling heroine addiction? Was your only friend a pimp who forced you to turn tricks in the seedy underbelly of Montreal? How could anyone possibly survive a childhood tainted by such ugliness? By staying connected to the mystery and magic of childhood, that's how. That is exactly what Baby, the twelve year old protagonist of Heather O'Neill's beautfully poetic novel does.

This book will break your heart. It will then take the pieces and re-assemble them into a box full of childhood memories, fears and ecstasy. It reads more like poetry than prose, with a lyrical cadence full of simile and metaphor. There are moments of profound sadness sharing the same page with moments of sly humour. This is a remarkable first novel from an author with a bright, exciting future.

My testosterone levels are dangerously low after reading this book and writing this review. I'm gonna' go eat a big, bloody steak, watch a mindless action movie and then punch somebody in the face. Seeing the world through the eyes of a twelve year old girl is a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to spend a whole lot of time there. It's a little uncomfortable how much we have in common. Creepy? You bet.

Score: 11/12 monkeys

Apple's iRack

Mad TV has never been synonomous with brilliant satire. Once in a very great while however, they step up to the plate, kick the dirt from their cleats and knock one out of the park. If you are not one of the five people out there who watch this show on a regular basis don't worry, Infinite Monkeys has got your back.

This iRack looks like a fantastic product. All they have to do is convince the public that is was built by terrorists and it might have weapons of mass destruction and I'm quite sure it will start flying off the shelves.

Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs

Author: Chuck Klosterman

Deconstructing pop culture in the post modern age is like making jokes at the expense of George W. Bush. It all feels a little redundant because the work is already done for you. Unless, of course you are Chuck Klosterman. Nobody can put a more refreshing, insightful and hilarious spin on the state of our modern world quite like he has in this "low culture manifesto".

He blames Woody Allen movies for the breakdown of the modern relationship. He delves into the surreal world of a Guns N' Roses tribute band. He views Saved by The Bell as one of the most culturally important shows in the history of television. He believes the 1980's playoff game between the Los Angeles Lakers and the Boston Celtics is a metaphor for absolutely everything in the Universe. The man is completely insane. But like most insane people, he is also a genius.

I challenge you to read the chapter entitled "Billy Sim" and not laugh out loud like an idiot. His attempts to recreate his own life within the confines of The Sims video game is one of the funniest things I have ever read. Ever. Here's a sample:

"I clicked on the "options" key and directed my cursor to the button that said "Free Will." I deployed actualization and Sim Chuck was emancipated. I watched him take a shower and crawl into his Sleeping Machine, where he slept for the next fourteen hours. And then I did the same."

This book is required reading for pop culture junkies. It unapologetically tells us that our world is a pretty fucked up place, but that's okay. We're much better off if we just surf the wave of craziness, laughing all the while. Otherwise it will break on top of you and you will most likely drown. Surfing analogies are cool, and they give me street cred. Whatever that is.

Score: 9/12 monkeys

Happy Easter...South Park Style

South Park -1105- Fantastic Easter Special.

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The Davinci Code with ninjas, a *krull-hurling Jesus and grown men dressed up as easter bunnies. The way it should have been. Thank you South Park for turning an unreadable book and unwatchable movie into the best Easter special ever. Here it is in it's entirety, for your viewing pleasure.

Happy Easter everyone!

*For those of you who did too many (or not enough) drugs back in the 80's, Krull was a cheesy sci-fi flick about a bad-ass dude who threw a giant ninja star around. Why? Because giant ninja stars are cool. It's just like that time I built one in shop class and threw it at that homeless guy. He was pretty upset and bleeding quite badly, but in the end we all learned a valueable lesson about the magic of sharing. Rated: R for scenes of graphic awesomeness.

Vacation Fallout

Sorry about the lack of posts lately. I've been on vacation and it's awfully difficult to write anything worthwhile after thirty shots of jagermeister and with a house full of strippers breaking open a George W. Bush pinyata. Well, I'm happy to report that I've cleaned up after the goats, called a cab for the midgets and taken down all the balloons. The party is over and it's back to work.

The above picture was sent to me by a friend who saw it and immediately thought of me. I can't even begin to tell you how creepy that is. Actually, I can: It's damn creepy. He sent it along with a note explaining that I was the only person he knew that would appreciate it as much as he did. Needless to say, he was right on the money. Does this make me a bad person? Probably. Do I care what you think? Absolutely not. So if any of you out there have any more disturbing, tasteless, or downright EVIL pictures or jokes that you would like to share, feel free to e-mail them to me. If I find them suitably disgusting, I might even post about them and send a link back to a website of your choice. My generosity knows no bounds. Kinda' like my hangover.

See you in hell Brownie.