Fuck You, Jersey City is Not Cool

So New York Magazine apparently decided to write about New Jersey and do a little feature about how Jersey City is the next cool place to live or, actually, it was the cool place to live a little while ago and it's about to get too cool for its own good. WELL! I've lived there for two years now and, you know what? Fuck you, New York Magazine. Jersey City is not cool.

Derp! The Statue of Liberty is technically on our property! Claim to fame! Gurrgh!!

According to the helpful timeline on the second page of this feature, I also lived in Tribeca back before it was cool and moved out shortly after the coolness began to settle in. It's unclear to me, quite frankly, from whence this information is culled. Do you go around asking twats with douchey haircuts if they like it there? Do you wander about the area trying to catch snippets of indie rock wafting from open apartment windows? Do you have a cool barometer that beeps in 2:3 tempo as it closes in on the location of a falafel vendor?

On top of which, this definition of coolness is rather nondescript, if you ask me. The best I can figure is that the period in which something is cool is the time just before its jive-like qualities get noticed by big companies who then start tearing down all the abandoned buildings to make room for condos to gyp hipsters out of a lot more money than living in the location is really worth. In other words, when you move into an area that's a bit ghetto just because the rent is cheap and find that, as a white person, you're a minority, sorry Francis, this place ain't cool. HOWEVER! Give it a couple more years and people will have begun to have heard of your little craphole of a neighborhood.

"I live in Jersey City," you say to someone.

"Oh, that's cool, I know someone who just moved to Jersey City," they will say.

COOL??? It's cool, is it? Well other people have heard something apparently pointing to this fact, so surely it must be true! Disregard that you actually live there and there are mice in your walls and constant construction everywhere and there's only like two bars you feel at all remotely welcome in and the superchill block you live on is almost entirely populated by Russians who make no effort to get to know you or vice versa. Jersey City is the BEES KNEES and don't you even begin to think otherwise!

I've seemingly been living in FUCKING COOL places nearly all my bloody life! First there was Tribeca, which my parents settled into well before the COOLBOMB made impact. Was it cool? Yeah, I guess. There was some guy who penned the lyrics to a famous rock song (hell if I know which one) living above us. We lived in a building that used to be a spice factory so the stairwell smelled like cumin or something all the time. Somebody broke into one of the apartments one time and the people living there pelted him with large books until he ran off. There was a bum wandering around who thought he was a car and one time my mom and I waited for him to stop leaking transmission fluid in front of the door to our apartment building before we went inside. I don't know how many of these factors contribute to the overall coolness of the area, but the only reason it felt mildly cool at all to me was probably because I was a child and children LIKE THINGS.

When I was eight, my family and I moved to the suburb of Montclair, NJ. Although it doesn't get it's own COOL TIMELINE, Montclair is another one of them coolzones!! How do I know? Because when I mention it to people they say, "Montclair? That's a cooool town!!" OH REALLY?! Then how come I hated everybody and everything and myself growing up there. Oh, yes! Because I was a teenager and that's how you are when you're a teenager and Montclair's coolness or the amazingness of our public schools (which also have a great reputation for some ungodly reason), I'm sad to say, didn't cancel out the suckiness that was growing up! HOW IS IT POSSIBLE?! I WAS ON THE CUSP OF FUNKY-FRESH SUBURBIA!! DURRG!!!

When I applied to Hofstra University in LONG ISLAND, people said to me "That's a good school!" THE FUCK YOU PULLING THAT FROM, TWATBURGER?? Perhaps your first clue should be that it's in LONG FUCKING ISLAND, the crappiest place on earth right after Cambodia, no wait, right before.

So, wait! How did I end up living in all these sweet places without enjoying myself?! Say, I think I know why! Because NOTHING IS COOL, do you understand me? I shall repeat. NOTHING IS COOL. As someone who's lived in places where the cool ratings were SEVERE to the point of TIPPING THE SCALES, I will tell you this, coolness is an ILLUSION.

There's nothing decidedly cool about Jersey City and what's odd is the article seems to acknowledge that this area is pretty friggin' barren. We don't have a ton of bars, we don't have a lot of clubs, we don't really have places for live music, we don't have many restaurants. You want something to do on the weekend, you're still most likely gonna take a trip into NYC. So apparently the JC is cool without having anything cool to do? Uh...huh.

The author of the article does make some statements that are more or less accurate. He says that a cool territory is staked out originally by artists and other types who want to live somewhere relatively cheap. Well, yes. I moved here to the Grove Street area of the JC because it was exceptionally close to the city, but far cheaper than living there. Hoboken and Newport are too expensive. Journal Square is dirt cheap, but it's also damned ugly and frightening. So, basically, I'm living here because it's cheap, but not so cheap that I might get murdered. I don't call my decision to live here "cool," so much as it is "reasonably sensible." Since when did "reasonably sensible" translate to "cool?" Well, in my book it kind of does. But not so much in New York Magazine, I suppose!

As I said, the cool period, if I'm understanding correctly, comes about when people start taking notice of the area, case in point, when an article in New York Magazine shows up. Basically as soon as people who know nothing of your neighborhood are huge fans of your neighborhood, well, you fucking rock. But, wait! What happens when all these people, seeking not so much cheap cost of living, but rather the next "scene," decide to take it one step further by moving in next door?! Things cost too much! Buildings get torn down and replaced by fancy-schmancy condos! Suddenly, everything sucks! Now, this I do agree with!

When I first moved here a friend told me he'd never been. "Well," I responded, "it's not exactly a place you need to visit before you die." I still hold to this statement! I would never consider anything about Jersey City particularly cool or interesting. There are some decent things about it, but if I didn't live here, I can't imagine ever going out of my way to check it out. HOWEVER! Although it is NOT COOL, it can easily get worse.

I've seen Williamsburg recently and you know what?! It's basically a shithole populated with annoying skinny white kids. They have stupid emo hair and thick-rimmed glasses. They're loud and basically epitomize what I would refer to as "tools". Let's face it. When judging whether a place is "cool" or not we're basically saying, "Can a skinny, white, middle class kid move here and find it both cheap and safe?" Because, look! As soon as the cool secret gets out, that's what the place gets flooded with! And lemme tell you somethin'!! I might not have any major interaction with my Russian neighbors, but I prefer to be left alone rather than be surrounded by annoying fucking white kids. I'm already here and I hate myself. Why would I want a bunch of carbon copies around?

Here's hoping the hipsters read to the end of this guy's article because, if he does one thing right, it's stating that Jersey City is "already over." Apparently, places already are getting bought out and rent already is getting too high and I agree! More important than the fact that indie white kids annoy the shit out of me, is that, like I said, I lived here basically for the rent. My landlord, unfortunately, is already taking notice of the fact that this is getting to be a "hotspot" of sorts. When I first moved in I was supposed to be paying six-hundred a month, but he shortly thereafter jacked it up to six-fifty. Now, two years later, he's hoisting it up to an even seven-hundred!

GOD DAMMIT! STOP MOVING IN HERE! IT'S NOT COOL! IT'S JUST CONVENIENT!!! You motherfuckers make my rent too high where the hell else am I gonna go that's this cheap, this non-threatening, and this close to NYC?! COMMUNIPAW?!? Hey, there's your next coolzone, assholes! Start settling all up and down Communipaw! Yeah, let's see that go down! I don't see a problem! It's cheap! What's not cool about Communipaw, eh?!? I know there's a Checkers! OOH, CHECKERS!!

HOORAY COMMUNIPAW!!!

I WILL MAKE MYSELF ONCE AGAIN CLEAR. COOLNESS, SHE IS AN ILLUSION. There's nothing cool here, it's just REASONABLY SENSIBLE. Just think about how incredibly incongruent the notion is that a place is cool if people outside of it think it is, but once those same people move in it becomes shitty. UH-WHAT?

Even if, as I suppose the article is claiming, a bunch of new, keen little establishments open up around here, the fact of the matter is that, in any location, the place is responsible for very little of what makes it cool. Ok, yeah, so I guess Chernobyl and a handful (ONLY A HANDFUL!) of other areas blow because of the actual piece of land they occupy, but, by and large, it's the people that make a place. AND, NEWS BOOB-REVEAL, FRIENDS! PEOPLE SUCK.

I don't care where the hell you go, the world is dominated by nimrodiots. It's not like I'm out all the goddamned time hangin' with my hip friends thinking, "We sure are cool! I hope a bunch of squares don't move in here!" More often it's more like, "There's nothing to do and I don't like anybody, but at least we aren't swamped with MORE people I don't like and my rent isn't fucking high!"

So, read my text: GO AWAY. If you're moving here to find some kind of new, hip environment, you'll soon find that it's EXACTLY THE SAME AS EVERYWHERE ELSE (and, seriously, do you even want to live in the same neighborhood as a bitter dickhead like me?). I don't even think Jersey City is "over." In my mind, it never even "began." And as someone on the cusp of coolosity, you'd better listen to me.

Oh, and nice job mentioning Marco + Pepe as a "cute" place to eat, New York Magazine man. Too bad it's expensive as fuck for shitty little portions and run by a douchebag who owns a car that looks like it could only fit one manchild and a midget folded in half. I happen to know for a fact that it's always sucked. My sister worked at the crappy establishment years ago, way before it was COOL.

A Disappointment Vaginally

My introduction to the Internet is something I can thank my good friend Keelhaul for. His father is the head of his own home-based software business so Keelhaul’s family was always on the cusp of computer technology. Although America On-Line is pretty well hated now, when the Internet originally began to garner its rock star status, the average unenlightened user found their way there with AOL leading them by the hand. As such, Keelhaul had a copy of said program.

It must’ve been during junior high when I went over to his house and one of the very first things, if not the first thing, Keelhaul showed me as a demonstration of the Internet’s power was that of entering a private (which is nowhere near as private as the definition of the term is supposed to imply) AOL chat room that had been named something creative like “sex” or perhaps even “sex2.” All these places were really good for was the trading of pictures of naked women.

You say to someone, “I would like a picture of a naked woman.”

They say, “What would you have in return for that?”

You say, “A picture of a naked woman.”

They say, “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

It was not uncommon for, once every couple of minutes, someone in the chat to ask, “Any chicks in here?” If someone ever did answer in the affirmative, it was likely just a guy who was desperate after spending five hours in a chat room asking, “Any chicks in here?”

After perusing a fair number of nude female bodies, Keelhaul and I decided we needed to uncover a huge mystery, so we asked a guy specifically for a picture with a prominently displayed nekkid vagina. If you haven’t guessed, this would be the first time either of us had clearly seen one of these creatures or, well, a picture of one. I still don’t believe I’ve met one face to face(?) and if I have, it must’ve been a brief, unmemorable experience and the owner most certainly did not intend to share it with me.

The guy, for his troubles, asked if we had anything that showed off some penetration. Keelhaul and I glanced at each other and he began to type, “What’s penetration?” when, the gears in my head finally springing into action, I slapped him on the shoulder and said “Wait!” Thankfully, I had figured it out in time so that we didn’t sound like morons in the presence of the perv with whom we were chatting, who may or may not have been in our age group. Although I don’t believe we did have any of said penetration, the man gracefully lowered his standards and accepted the trade of some other picture we had of a young lady who had, at some point, misplaced her clothes and then ended up in front of a camera somehow.

As he began to transfer our requested file to us, the picture opened as things did back then, which is to say, very slowly. As the photo gradually revealed itself from top to bottom, our anticipation rose to a boiling point of sorts!

And then…! Success?

We stared at it. We cocked our heads this way and that. I may have said, “Really?”

Moments later we typed to our online companion, “Do you got anything else? We want one with big boobs.”

Work is for Queers and Immigrants

I just got a temp job with one of the bajillion companies within the VIACOM world-owning conglomerate. Turns out these bastards own Comedy Central, although I believe AOL TIME WARNER the universe-owning conglomerate, but with a less threatening name, used to. Fancy that!

My temp job is with Nick Records, which deals with the releases of all the crappy tie-in albums that result from all the kakadoody shows they produce for their fifty-million different networks. They're apparently also responsible for DVD set production and sales, because I hear a lot of that bullnonsense getting discussed as well.

I'm only doing this job for four days and I'm at it right now so clearly they aren't exactly piling stuff on me, but I hate working, and I already more or less hate this. I'm not going nuts here or anything, I am putting up with it of course, but it just serves to make me think what a load of horse butt product working in an office is.

Working here makes me think now about how everything has a crappy, boring, menial background behind it. For example, one of the Nickelodeon's major properties is Spongebob Squarepants. If you've actually seen the show, it's really pretty decent. It's silly enough for kids, but it's pretty smart at times too. Basically, at the head of it there's clearly a pretty cool guy who came up with the idea and a team of people who are, to some degree, conforming to a standard for VIACOM, but are more or less just doing their best to make an entertaining, creative show. I can't say this for all Nick shows, obviously, because most of what they produce is dreck, but Spongebob is one instance of decency.

Well, at Nick Records I see none of that creativity. I see financial figures and I see marketing. I see the boring soullessness that has to go into inevitably getting the show (and it's keychains and lunchboxes) to me. When you watch the show, you're not thinking about anything other than how it's entertaining you and making you laugh. You're invested in the plot and the (voice) acting, not the packaging and how it's manufactured to specifically appeal to children and when you know about these things, it kind of diminishes the "magic" of the creative process.

Obviously it's a necessary evil. You'd never get any of the stuff you like if there wasn't some huge conglomerate shipping it all around the country and making it accessible. But I can't stop thinking about the fact that, although once in awhile a company like VIACOM makes good use of a creative product, mostly it's dedicated to churning out money-making garbage, usually in a decidely unwholesome way.

I happen to have two ads next to me where I'm sitting for tie-in albums for some chick named Emma Roberts and a show called Zoey 101. The girls are maybe fifteen years old, if that, and whenever there's a lull in my worktime (happens a lot!) I find myself looking over at them because they're so goddamned hot. I know they're young, but they put them in these skirts and do up their makeup and hair; the Emma Roberts album cover has her lying on her side in a somewhat suggestively seductive (ALLITERATION ACTION!) position.

The sexualizing of minors is just one of the many offending things one finds on the business side of media, but the whole premise of it more or less bugs me. Just the notion that a creative property is always at some level handled in an assembly-line, money-making manner is kind of offensive; that the creative side of these productions degenerates to just another branch of a gigantic cash generating behemoth. Right alongside "marketing" and "corporate," we have "creative," a one-word term to make an office run more efficiently.

Additionally, there's the fact that tons of people are crammed into boring office settings to fuss over figures, numbers, and minor discrepencies in poster ads that will make them more appealing to the younger generation. Again, I understand this is a needed service in many cases, but the mass-production of creativity (along with the marketing of subtle pedophilia) strikes me as pretty depressing, even moreso the fact that there are people whose lives and livelihood are spent principally dealing with these issues. It occurs to me now that I'm much happier only seeing finished products. The nuts and bolts are dull and packed full of sorrow.

SORROW!!!

I apologize for the title of this blog. It is mostly there to offend needlessly and has hardly any bearing on the actual content of the blog. Next time I will think up a more politically correct, yet appealing title for the younger generation!!!

Love and Nonsense

There once was a boy who met a girl by a lake and they soon decided apartness they couldn't take. They stuck to each other like snails to a branch and indulged in unparalleled fits of romance. They sat by the water, speaking only a tad as a look or a touch sufficed to make them glad. They sat and they loved till the sun's last inkling, then parted quite painfully, and spent the night thinking how wonderfully perfectly the day had just gone and hoping the next one would arrive before long.

And so it went on like this for a time, until one day the boy rather unwisely chimed, "You are the only thing," he said to the girl, "that I care for at all in this entire world."

"Shh," she replied with a finger to his lips, but he continued unfettered, rambling at a full clip.

"I mean it quite truly, there is nothing else, not fame, nor family, nor friendship, nor wealth."

The girl did not speak, only eyed him strangely, as he continued to jabber super derangedly.

"I would never leave you, I want you to know, but if you wanted out, I would not stop your going. I'd simply climb up to the roof of my flat, throw myself off, and that would be that."

Now the reason that the boy's mindset was as such, was he'd not once before felt anything this much. He'd never had anyone to touch or to hold, the girl was his fire, he was otherwise cold. He'd never felt love before, not a hint, not a whisper, so his heart would not survive if he could not be with her.

The girl's eyes went wide. "Don't say things like that." And she pushed her chin down on her knees where she sat.

"Why shouldn't I," asked the boy, "when every word is true?"

"Because I don't want to hear about suicide from you."

"But I'm not suicidal, not now, not really."

"Well, what you are saying is stupid and silly."

"But why? I just want to say what I feel."

"So you're saying that you'd jump off the roof for real?"

"Yes."

"Well, I don't want to hear of this lecture, such a notion for me is far, far too much pressure."

"Pressure?!" the boy yelled, then with lots of gall, "If we're happy together, there's no pressure at all!"

"Then why even say such a thing like you said? We're happy together, obviously, you're not dead."

The boy did not think his words were such a crime and surmised that she must've had doubts in her mind.

"So you have thought of leaving me, hence why you're unsettled."

The girl gazed at him, wishing he had not meddled in such matters as frivolous and foolish as this. She leaned toward his forehead and gave it a kiss.

She patted his hand and said, "Please don't be dumb," then they looked at the water, both feeling quite glum.

So the matter was left unresolved as it was and they returned to kissing and hugging and love. But the seed had been planted and a bad one at that, and the issue'd resurface as they chewed the fat.

The boy's point remained that the girl must have doubt to be so upset when suicide he did tout.

The girl stood fast that such a statement was pointless, the doubt was non-existant till he'd gone and spoiled it.

She loved him so deeply, no really, 'tis true, but before long the arguing eclipsed all else they'd do. He'd launch into rhetoric and nonsense and blather while she wished he'd be content simply to have her. She'd weep and she'd tell him "please, please, just relax," he'd apologize and next day would resume the claptrap. She gave all she could till no more was to give, but eventually decided this was no way to live.

So on that fateful day at the lake she was crying, hoping against hope he wasn't serious about dying.

"I tried," she said through tears, "You know that I did, but you've stuck to this topic like a stupid kid. I love you, I do, but you won't let this go, this trollop, this garbage, this suicide sideshow."

"I'm sorry," he said, and again it seemed true, but it wasn't, he'd changed and their love had changed too.

"I've believed you before, a hundred times it seems, but, no more, I'm so sorry," and she watched as the gleams in each of his eyes faded, but they'd been fading fast since that moronic day at the lake'd come to pass.

She bawled and she buried her face in his chest, thinking of when their love had not been such a mess.

He, however, was calm and collected as though he had seen all this coming, the curtain to this show. He lifted her head up, wiped a tear from her eye, and thought how she was pretty even when she would cry. He leaned toward her forehead and gave it a kiss and smiled remembering all of their former bliss.

He took her by the hand and gave it a pat, then turned to leave saying, "Well, that will be that."

God is Flexible

I don't believe in God. It just seems to me that humans are too animalistic to deserve some kind of ultimate being watching over and governing them. What I mean to say is I don't feel there's enough differentiation in our behaviorisms as there is in, for example, a water buffalo (we have a herd mentality, for one). If I were to believe in any sort of higher power, it would be a god that cared about all living things equally, from a human being down (or across, if we're being all equal here) to a fruit fly. Even then, I don't think it's likely. It just sounds too much like fantasy to me.

Still, although I don't believe in God, it's not surprising to hear him mentioned daily. Most principally, as part of the phrase (mostly the ending), "oh my god."

NOTICE!!! That I did not capitalize "god" that last time around. OH, YOU BETTER BELIEVE THAT WAS DELIBERATE.

As a minorly dickish, anal (yes both together) thing to do, I have made decisions as to whether or not I believe the word "god" should be capitalized in a given situation. This is going to sound like a lot of unncessary bull and, indeed, it is, but I will explain it afterwards.

Firstly, I do not capitalize "him" or "he" when referring to God, because I don't do that for any other pronouns. I do not ever write "My friend Bobby is cool and He is great!" Why should God get special treatment over Bobby (especially considering how cool and great he is)? Because God is almighty and such? Bah! If it's between God getting a pronoun uppercased to massage his ego (as though all those people praying to him aren't good enough) and keeping my sentence grammatically intact, well, I'm sorry, but grammar is going to win every time.

Now, the only time I actually capitalize the word "god" is when I am talking about the theoretical guy, God. It's a name, so I capitalize it. Again, basic grammar rules. If he was "the god" or "a god," lowercase would be permissable but, no, that's his title. If I saw him walking down the street I would say "Hey, God!" just like I would say "Hey, Bobby!"

I do not capitalize "god" (in this case, I am referring to the word itself so it's all kosher) in any other situation I can think of. Unless I'm talking about the specific being known as God, I stick with god. This most often comes up, again, with the phrase "oh my god." Now, why not captalize this?! Well, for one thing, like I said earlier "a god" and "the god" would be correct, so "my god" would function in the same manner. It's not really a name we're talking about here, it's a thing. It's like saying "oh my child" but, still, one could say "oh my Bobby" and that would make sense. So, in this case, Bobby wins! One might say, however, "But perhaps one is referring to the name 'God' when they say 'oh my god.'" Ah, well, but I disagree.

The phrase "oh my god" is used so often by so many people that I believe it has no more thought behind it than a curse word (for those of you who want examples of everything, "shit" and "fuck" are two worthy candidates). "God" sometimes gets used in an exclamatory sense without the "oh my" to preface it. We've also got "god dammit" or "goddammit" which actually orders the man upstairs to destine something or someone to hell. Although, in theory, we're talking about a specific guy here when such a thing is done, I do not believe the gravity that is supposed to be part and parcel of using our god's name at any point invades upon the thought processes of the sayer. In fact, it's much closer to being a complete absence of thought. Much like any other curse, it's something shouted in frustration, when the time needed to form a more sensible thought has not been taken. In effect, "god" is a curse word and I don't capitalize my curse words.

To be perfectly honest, I think this whole practice I have come up with is utterly frivolous. I originally invented it when I was trying to write my novel (on hiatus until I have a stable life). My thought was that I was writing teenage characters who would undoubtedly use the phrase "oh my god" from time to time and that I would not capitalize it because, my feeling was that somebody would notice and somebody would take offense. I then arrived at the reasoning as to why, indeed, I had decided to do this, so that it would be more than just "Well, it's an easy way to offend some religious people" and I honestly think it's a valid point. Still, it's a frivolous one (the origins of which really are more just about offending), no doubt about that, but are not the original rules in place for the capitalization of "god" just as frivolous?

I mean, "He" every time you mention "Him?" Totally ridiculous and unnecessary. How about when it's taken further and people refuse to write the word out and instead opt for "G-d." This strikes me as intolerably ignorant. First of all, if you are actually making reference to God himself, what's the wrong in writing out his full name? I mean, if you want you can get rid of any mention of God whatsoever in your story, fine, but if you have a part where someone says "I pray to God" and you don't want to change it to "I pray to Bobby" then don't write "G-d!!" When a priest gives a sermon, he says the word a bunch, and he doesn't bleep himself, now does he?! Does the Bible stick dashes inbetween all its g's and d's? Well, maybe some editions do, I really wouldn't know, but, generally speaking, no! You're not talking about G-d, you're talking about God!!

If you have someone saying "oh my god" and you change it to "oh my G-d" (because, obviously, such an individual would capitalize it), that's even worse. You think because you put a dash in it, you're not taking his name in vain? It's like bleeping curses on TV. When people say "s(BEEP)t" I still know they're saying "shit." It's pointless.

How strange is it that there's actually a commandment telling us that we shouldn't go around using God's name all willy-nilly? I know that SUPPOSEDLY Moses brought those all down from a mountain way back when, but, speaking in realistic terms, which came first? The commandment or the overusage of "god?" If it were the latter, it means that people just naturally took the word "god" and began using it in whatever way they saw fit until someone decided a commandment would stop all this (yeah, nipped that one right in the bud). If it's the former, it means that God's disciples actually went out of their way to disobey a commandment. They even took God's son's name and started using that as a vulgarity too! Naughty, naughty humans!!

One thing I can say for God is that he is flexible. He can exist or not, depending on what's more convenient for me. If I were to argue with someone about his existence, the idea of a god would be nothing but a concept to me (an improbable one). If I want to curse, I can say "oh my god" or "god dammit." Being an atheist, I understand how ludicrous this is, but, of course, it's not like I actually consider the theory that I am ressurrecting God into existence each time I make reference to him. I also don't shy away from jokes about God and his screw-ups with the human race. It makes comedy easier if you have something to blame all our mistakes on. Again, I don't believe there's one guy out there that deserves all this blame, but I'll say there is to save on breath.

You don't get this flexibility with the opposing force, Satan, whose name I always capitalize, because I am always only referring to the one guy. How strange it is that Satan is completely left alone, but we continue to drag God, god, and Jesus Christ through the mud.

Oh my Fuck! Look at the time! Bobby is expecting me at His house. See you later.

On Weed

I've noticed a number of people on this internet are old and squarish and therefore do not know what a "pot" does or how a "joint" happens. As a habitual marijuana smoker, I've got a few things to say about marijuana and the smoking of it.

First and foremost, we should get this straight. Just to confirm what all you straight-edge dorks have gone on believing up till now: YES, smoking pot is NOT COOL. You're right, okay? Fine.

Being cool, as always, is ulitimately dictated by your personality and any of your behavior will, by extension, be also perceived as cool. Coolness is, of course, much like art, an illusion of sorts, as it's entirely determined upon by he or she who assesses it as such. Now, I've gone way off the deep end here, but the point is that I don't think pot necessarily makes you UNcool either. My feelings are that it's SO EXCEEDINGLY RARE that there is a person out there who just LOOOOVES life SOOOO MUCH that they can get through all of it without getting just a wee bit inebriated. If they are however, that IS, in my mind, cool.

A good bit of life (if not all) is a series of distractions. Just like having a hobby, getting fucked up is a tactic towards doing SOMEthing, rather than just waiting around for death (yeah, and you thought this was just gonna be about ganja). The thing is that, for example, interacting with people or any creative activity (writing, drawing, macrame) is leaps and bounds ahead of drug use. Simply put, you're doing something that somehow in someway does enrich your life. Drug use, especially pot, is almost in complete opposition of this.

There's an argument for alcohol, in that it often greases the wheels to better social interaction, but it also often results in creating connections where there normally are not any ("You're drunk?! Wow, I'm drunk too! We have so much in common!!"). Such connections are also, in my mind, more or less a waste of time. Additionally, although a relationship technically can be kickstarted initially by alcohol with no major repercussions, there's also the possibility of the relationship becoming dependent on the sauce. This is uber-poor and then shit gets Days of Wine and Roses crazy!

Pot, specifically, is a loner drug. There are a bunch of others too: mushrooms, which I've tried once with much, MUCH less than stellar results, opium, which I've had mixed with pot and it pretty much just made me (amazingly) even lazier, and ones I have not tried (heroin, acid, and most downers) but imagine result in similar alienating behavior. Before I started smoking pot I was already a largely unproductive and anti-social person. When I found out there was a way I could waste bundles of money at the same time I said, sign me up, brother!! Seriously though, pot just makes it all the worse.

There's this annoying notion going around that people who come up with weird and creative things were probably high at the time. While this CAN be true (Naked Lunch!), I know that, especially in my case, it usually probably isn't. Sure, maybe these people smoke pot, but not when they're working. Admittedly, drugs have different effects on everybody but, generally speaking, pot does nothing except make you unproductive, anti-social, and instills in you a want to be high fairly consistently. So when you see something funny on TV and say, "These guys must smoke sooooo much weed!" you might be right, but it's likely not relevant to the content of the show, unless you're watching Adult Swim or Family Guy or something, in which case it's possible, because that stuff isn't even very funny or well-made.

As I said earlier, two of the major things I believe are productive as far as LIFE is concerned are interaction with other people (shitty as most of them may be) and any sort of creative outlet you can get your hands on. Pot, and a lot of other drugs, I'm sure, quite simply, strip you of a want to be involved with any of this and, on top of which, use up a chunk of your cash. This is really, by this logic, the ultimate crime.

That said, I still have to say that I don't see a huge problem with the average person trying marijuana. The fact of the matter is that people who remain stalwart against doing drugs tend to, I'm sorry but this seems to be the way it often is, end up being the biggest of dorks. I suppose it wouldn't be this way if we weren't such a drug-struck culture, but most everyone gets high off something and when you don't, it's a noticeable social divider.

Before I tried pot, I had this distinct sense of awkwardness around my drug-comfortable friends. I know it sounds simple, "I wasn't awkward around potsmokers once I started smoking pot" but it's more than that. I have friends who do cocaine and oxycotton as well. I don't feel a need to escalate my drug usage to these sorts of things, however. The simple fact is that I, too, in my small way (because pot really is about as wussy as you can go drug-wise) am a drug user, so turning down one thing doesn't feel like some dorky pledge to turn down everything.

Yes, I am letting peer pressure get to me, I suppose, but it's beyond that because, as so many people are involved in drugs, it becomes a social expectation. Think about it, it's exactly the same with drinking. When people go out on the town, alcohol's usually involved somewhere along the way. If you're the person who has elected to, for personal reasons, remain dry at all times (and there was a period in which I did try to be that person), you're going to feel left out because, unavoidably, you will kind of be left out. So then the question remains, if you drink, are you still a dork? Yes, you are, dorkalicious.

The discrepancy is, I believe, between legal and illegal drug use. I can respect the people who don't do ANYTHING, including alcohol, far more than those who "just drink." I know every pothead says this, but alcohol is FAR worse than weed. Alcohol can make you vomit VERY easily; weed, almost never (unless alcohol's also involved). Driving under the influence of alcohol is a VERY bad idea; on weed, it's not a good one and not one I reccommend anyway, but it's far less of a potential (HA) threat. Passing out on alcohol is exceptionally possible; weed, again, no. So then the question becomes, what exactly about alcohol makes it OKAY for you, whereas something like pot is no no, Nanette?

I say this as a dork and someone who was formerly far dorkier: nine times out of ten (precise statistics I pulled from my ass) the fact that drugs are illegal is what stops people from trying them. Whether they want to admit this or not (and they probably don't to save face), the LAW is what's truly ingrained within them.

I'm sorry, but fuck that, you pussy. If you want to try a drug, there are multiple, multiple avenues (literally and figuratively) available to you to get your smoke, poke, whatever on without much fear at all of the five-oh getting all up in your shit. Don't let this be a detriment. GET HIGH. As bad as it really is for you, if you're a person who is curious, yet sensible, it doesn't have to dominate your life. You can, at least in the case of weed, quit. (I have for months at a time. I will, however, admit, and this is probably a form of addiction, that, at least at my present position in life, I don't feel comfortable saying "I will never smoke pot again" because, well, I'd like to.)

The fact of the matter is, I ultimately tried pot because some part of me was curious about it. If you have a legitimate reason to not try something, then you are a far cooler person than I and I support you all the way (I hope you feel lucky being supported by a pothead). If you really truly are happy as you are and don't need anything to loosen your consciousness a bit, great, you're awesome and, in my opinion, this close to being a creature of myth but, hey, go you. If you have a history of addiction or some other psychological reasoning behind not trying something, again, completely understandable. However, if you're just sitting around knocking back Bud Lights and sucking down Marlboros because, well, that's what the government deemed worth doing, cut that shit out, go find some pot, and see what all the fuss is about. I'm not saying it's good for you, I'm not saying it's even a smart course of action, I'm just saying that most everybody needs to get a little messed up every once in awhile and if you're curious, go ahead and give it a go.

I know those who say they're never gonna try it. I mean, we're just talking about pot here, people. Nobody has to be that dorky.

SNL is the Most Depressing Show on Television

Saturday Night Live (or SNL) has been on for eighty-billion years (Source: Joe knows everything). In that time, I maintain that there has been ONE period in which it was a really awesome, funny, well-made show that was worth my time. This would be the Chris Farley, Phil Hartman, Mike Meyers, Dana Carvery era of the show. There were lots of classic sketches (Wayne's World, The Chris Farley Show, Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer) and the cast was amazingly talented.

SNL tends to go through periods of being good, then sucking horribly, then being good again. I remember turning it on once for the briefest of moments during one of its stock market crash-like periods and catching this embarassingly bad sketch about a man and a woman in bed. The woman was trying to have some role-playing sex fun and the guy was taking it too seriously. Like, she'd say something like, "You've been a bad boy!" and he'd go "WHAT'D I DO?!" It ended with the guy screaming and running out of the room and the woman addressing the audience with something like, "Hal takes these sex games way too seriously!"

The audience had only chuckled mildly throughout the whole thing.

Although things are rarely that bad, the fact is that I don't think SNL has, except for that one period, been SOOO worth watching. Sure, there was that point where Tracy Morgan, Will Ferrel, and Horatio Sanz provided a bright spot in an otherwise alternatively ho-hum and annoying cast, but I don't make a point of watching shitty sitcoms because they're "funny once in awhile." That's sort of the difference between SNL and other shows. People will continue giving it a chance because it's SUPPOSED to be funny. I mean it's CLASSIC and it's been on SO LONG. Clearly, they're doing SOMETHING right.

NO.

I've seen the old, before my time SNLs and the humor is dated. Big surprise, I know, but really good humor should, for the most part, hold up, some discrepancies aside. SNL is based very much on the time in which it is being made. This is even more true considering that they get a current celebrity and a popular band on every week. This, in itself, is a lame gimmick. Very often these celebrities can't even do comedy very well (or, in some cases, ACT). Kids in the Hall (also produced by Lorne Michaels, actually) is one of the best sketch shows of all time. WHERE THE CELEBRITIES ON THAT?! NONE!!! And it is MUCH better.

SNL is largely just a platform for endorsing hot, new star vehicles and atrocious new pop stars. It's fundamentally kaka-poop, ok? And I'd explain my point further, if I wasn't trying to write this in under twenty minutes.

The sad thing about SNL is that it continues onward and onward and it has this pedigree, for whatever reason, that results in people giving it more of a chance than it actually deserves. It's depressing because lots of people crowd around it on Saturday night and force laughs out because they're supposed to! Ah, you are the armies of the dead, you are. Yes, everyone just loooves Lazy Sunday (I did too, up until about the eightieth time), but it doesn't save this sinking ship of TV dreck!

The other reason SNL is the most depressing thing on TV is that it plays at 11:30 PM to 1 AM. Not only is this too late to be awake NOT laughing, if you're watching it, it's an indication that you have NOTHING BETTER TO DO ON SATURDAY NIGHT. Sad, sad.

The only thing that might be sadder is Showtime at the Apollo. I'm not black but, seriously, you can't tell me it's really worth staying up till two in the morning to see Sinbad's Gong Show.