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More blah, less blah, all blah. First off, let me just say this and get it out of the way: I am not sure where the whole Ashlee Simpson thing came from. OK? I still think the poor girl should just get out of entertainment altogether and hope and pray she can find some kind of help at a technical school. Perhaps the Dairy Queen back home is hiring. Now, the next thing I have to deal with is this: If I said to you sometime during the month of December that I would look into something "early in the New Year" that does not mean this fucking week. It means sometime before Valentine's Day, or maybe later on around my birthday in March. Geez. Literal minded assholes. I was again told recently that I have no business using the word nihilist in association with this website, since I "obviosuly care deeply" about the things I talk about. Whatever. I care a lot about the whales, too, and you don't see me out there riding around in tiny little boats with French people and waving Greenpeace flags, do you? I did get a copy of There's Nothing to Do Here! in the mail, which has a bit in there I wrote about the closing of Vincent's Ear Cafe in Asheville. There's also some WNC flood stuff in there and other goodies I have not yet had time to digest. Note to Motley Crue: Crawl back to the hole you spent the last ten years in and finish dying in private. Thank you. Spent most of yesterday out and about. Realized one thing: I have something similar to Social Anxiety Disorder. I call it Social Hate Disorder. I really hate people. Not, though, in a bad "kill everyone" sort of way. More like a "hurt everyone" sort of way. I do not know why. People and stores now give me a huge headache. Poor Thing, Do You Have a Sister? In the ongoing struggle for some people to continue trying to prove how hip and with it they are, we look again to the most recent of the Ashlee Simpson Live Music Follies. This one involves her actually singing live, however, as opposed to her Acid Reflux induced lip synch on Saturday Night Live some months ago. Poor girl can't catch a break, and I'm starting to wonder why people aren't really asking other questions about the whole thing. Of the many things that are clear to me about Simpson Number Two, these should be the most obvious: she cannot sing, she has no business out there trying to sing, and she has someone behind her pulling a lot of strings to make her look ridiculous. Funny, that sounds almost like the strategy that Daddy has been using with sister Jessica for years now, except that Jessica can actually sing and plays dumb really well. I fear, though, that Ashlee is just being used. Are we to believe that the same people who produced a clean girl like J could also give us a slightly trashier looking, younger version, complete with faux-punk backing band and stupid Circle-A logos on the set pieces? Are we to believe that a man who created a media sensation with his pretty blond daughter is allowing his younger daughter to be the victim of one colossal fuck up after another? Or, is dad behind all this? The "miscued" tape on SNL? The lack of ear monitors that stay, as they are supposed to, in the ear of the performer at the Orange Bowl? For that matter, the lack of backup floor monitors? At any rate, it is one thing to pick apart bands that suck so horribly that no one notices (I'm still looking at you, Franz Modest Cab for Intertine Yeah Yeahs) and, maybe, even are "critically hailed." It's another to pretend you are on the cutting edge of rock journalism by making fun of a kid who's being abused - or worse yet, it's like going to the Special Olympics and heckling. It's too easy, it's too pointless and it's just plain mean. So, here's my Dear Ashlee Letter: Fire yr dad. Fire yr management. Go find the eldest Osbourne daughter and learn from her how to live yr life in quiet and with respect from people. Just please stop being a spectacle, because you aren't even very good at that. |
Obligatory Nonsense
Who the hell is mat
catastrophe?
Obligatory Links Areafound weirdness: The Cat With Hands.
Archival Footage 2004 ---
July --
June
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