Cyrus.

January 24, 2014 1 comment

Celebrity commentary has never been my Thing. True, pop culture annoys me to where I feel pains in my marrow, but my policy has always been to leave our stars and idols to the checkout line scribes.

But now my muse is yanking me into that realm, refusing to let me have any hope of sleep until I offer up a Final Word. It started with Justin Bieber’s unsurprising DUI idiocy that landed him a few hours jail time and what will amount to a wrist slap.

Then this morning insomnia took up residence within me, and after I read a Fox News article written in their typical sensationalist style I hopped over to YouTube and saw this:

So here we are.

First of all, I’m not naive. I’m well-aware that the culprit behind Miley Cyrus’ whole faux delayed teenage rebellion shtick is not, in fact, Miley Cyrus but a shadowed Dream Team that insists she will remain relevant by acting stupid, Tweeting stupid, answering questions stupid, posing nude stupid and polluting our collective intelligence stupid. Second, before that Terry Richardson photo shoot I lived comfortably in my willful ignorance of Ms. Cyrus having a vagina. In the recesses of my mind lay a metaphorical garden, perhaps with a tree that bore a forbidden fruit of some kind. I could write off Miley as an asexual, genderless entity while I dealt with life’s more important matters, such as my current financial constraints or the winter illness that blooms as I begin this article at 4:25 in the morning. Then came Richardson with his camera, and the Fall of Me trailed in his wake. Goddamn you, Terry.

I will attempt to describe what I just witnessed. There were some noises, some washed out colors, implied masturbation, a scene near the end of bathwater and negligee…I don’t think porn has ever put those two elements together in a scene, but leave it to the Miley Dream Team to push that envelope and break new ground. And leave it to them to put out a music video I should be thanking good fortune and Reagan’s Jesus I didn’t watch at work.

My friend is convinced, and now I’m convinced, that a Miley Cyrus sex tape exists. Indeed. Out in the ether is definitely an SD card with some dude going bananas on Miley’s bony ass, and come the day we stop giving a shit about these blatant attempts to “shock” people is the day that video gets leaked. Watch it happen. Tell me I’m wrong. Of course I hate double standards, slut-shaming and the like, so I’d like to state for the record that Ms. Cyrus has unalienable rights to get railed in every which way and with as many partners of however many genders her womanly desires please. That said, it will still be a sad moment for us all because war, death and political corruption will remain rampant while everyone yammers and speculates and pontificates for weeks on end over Miley’s sexual escapades. Is Miley a government engineered distraction?

Perhaps. She’s certainly distracting me. Why else would I forsake good rest and my immune system to comment on this? Nevertheless, here is what I hope are my final ever words on Miley Cyrus. When the sex video goes viral my only wish is that my commentary consists of “shut up, shut up, shut up,” or better yet, nothing at all.

I hate that I’m about to do this. I hate the person I am about to become. I’m closing this write-up by suggesting two ways Miley can improve herself…physically. Yes, I am going there. Hate, hate, hateLoatheDie, Philip.  And here it is:

# 1: Regrow your hair.

Because when you look like this

(By the way:)

…and social media has already blasted off with ridiculous memes about how you look like that, it’s readily obvious: the tomboyish, blonde crew cut whatever-the-fuck isn’t working for you. Consider this:

Perhaps this is reaching. God knows that piece of shit movie was also the epitome of “trying too hard,” but do you see the way your chestnut mane benefited you, Miley? Do you see how it framed your face and presented you as an individual separate from any Bieber Rule 63 alter ego? You are the Samson of your time and place. Your Dream Team has proven to be your Delilah.  

# 2: Eat something.

Again, I blame your Dream Team, but Miley…Miley, listen. I don’t mean to be rude, but you look like you have an eating disorder. It took me a while to comprehend the uneasiness in my gut when I saw you topless, but now I understand.

You need cheeseburgers. In fact you need to go Wimpy, Fleischer Studios style, on a moving convener belt of Baconators and McBreakfast menu items. What you are doing is inadvertently personifying the American image of beauty, which for decades has been seen as starving oneself to the point of sporting pork ribs and grandma breasts. This is not healthy. It is not pure, pleasing, commendable or worthy of praise.

Being needle scrawny also adds to the whole caricature you have carved out of yourself, Miley. I can’t help but view the contemporary Ms. Cyrus as a walking cartoon parody of child star meltdowns and the misconception of needing a disproportionate Barbie figure as a prerequisite to attractiveness.

I have read some of your Tweets. You seem overtly concerned with getting “votes” for Vevo, but ponder reevaluating your priorities – as in White Castle Sliders in lieu of YouTube hits.

Here I will  close. 1,000 words is enough. This review from last year was already enough. All jabs aside, I wish Ms. Cyrus all the best, but this direction is not leading her there. Final thoughts, Miley: abandon the Dream Team, write a tell-all autobiography (a real one) and move forward. Evolve. 

The Truth About Evolution

January 9, 2014 Leave a comment

Here is a fundamental and oft overlooked truth about evolution: human beings have not evolved all that much. There has been no need.

We carry around subconscious hunter-gatherer/Neanderthal routines, but are able to suppress it with the advent of consciousness, self-awareness and rationalization. No drastic changes in our environments have called for a need to adapt, the prime factor that ushers in evolution to begin with. These antiqued routines pilot us, driving us to make the mistakes that humans often do.

Beneath the supposed human level of understanding, men still want to impregnate every woman in sight. Commitment and settling down is difficult because men must talk themselves out of being sex maniacs. Women and girls strive to destroy each other out of a subconscious need to eliminate their competition and attract mates. We grow slow and tired when it’s raining or gray out because our primal ancestors couldn’t hunt for animals or gather food in depressing weather. We are still territorial and fiercely protective of our stockpiled hordes, except instead of big rocks or carved shivs we have guns in which to shoot each other.

We are still, in essence, animals. The next evolutionary step is ridding ourselves of these primordial routines, but until drastic change calls for it, it will not happen. Read more…

A New Year, A New Approach

January 9, 2014 Leave a comment

New Year’s Resolutions are, at best, hollow lies. A better way to describe them would be as cheap novelty items that are obtained and quickly thrown away, or empty promises that double as gentle ribbing. “I’m going to lose weight!” says the 40-something family man. Spoiler: he doesn’t. “I’m going to stop watching porn!” beams an ambitious boyfriend, conveniently in front of the girlfriend who resents the DVDs she feels have  replaced her. One month into his non-fuckfilm celibacy, the boyfriend is sneaking into his computer room late at night. “Hey, it’s just every now and then,” he assures himself.

2013 flew by so fast that I barely remember anything that happened except in the last few months, when a string of small-to-medium misfortunes collectively worsened my newly diagnosed seasonal depression. According to my psychiatrist, I’m happiest in the Spring and Summer and miserable in the Fall and Winter, which makes perfect sense. The cold and the frequently grey skies tend to dim my spirits until the climate warms  up.

Starting from late September to almost year’s end, my list of complaints was petty, but nonetheless a pain in my ass. I lost my car when the serpentine belt snapped. After it sat in the shop for a week and accumulated a $ 1600 repair bill, I got to happily drive it for a week before a deer smashed into the goddamned thing during a rainy November dusk. It was the first time I’ve ever really dealt with rental car agencies, insurance company hassles, and the pain of relaying information back and forth between two separate parties. The saga ended on a bittersweet note. My insurance totaled my car but gave me a loss payout decent enough to put down on some fresher wheels.

The PC I’ve been rocking for almost five years has developed some kind of terminal hardware problem and now I must figure out how to finance a new machine to fits my needs. Really, the only ‘issues’ I dealt with at year’s end were (almost) tearful goodbyes to ‘Things’ that I’d grown attached to. Christmas and New Year’s were wonderful, if uneventful experiences, and with a straight face I will say that I ended 2013 on a higher note than 2012.

As mentioned, New Years Resolutions are bullshit, and nine days into 2014, I’ve decided to forego that traditional human comedy by stating that I will not make ‘Resolutions,’ but simply take what I’ve learned from 2013 and use it to get keener and wiser. Oh, I’ve set goals that I intend to fulfill, but to me goals are not Resolutions. 

One of those goals has to do with my writing. After almost an entire lifetime of scribbling down fiction and nonfiction alike, I have decided that I, Philip Garland, need to put his (real) name out there. I will take steps to finally, finally get something published. In July I’ll be turning 30 years old, and if it isn’t past time to start aiming for my dreams, it will be soon.

I would also like to do something different with this blog.

Ever since I registered it in 2010, the blog’s been an unwavering “anything goes” deal. “Anything goes” is fine up until one finds themselves staring at a blank screen, wondering what post they could possibly write that would be of interest to anyone. I have also combed through the archives, and discovered with a heavy heart that as late as 2010 I was still embarrassing  myself.

So what to do? Lately I’ve been doing a lot of self-reflection and observations about the crazy world around me and the people who inhabit it. Human nature has captured my attention more than anything, and as a natural born cynic, I have come to view Earth as a beautiful place with a very silly, dark and stupid side.

Here’s what all that means: I’m still going to update this blog with shit about video games, Buffy, movies reviews and whatever else but I want to calibrate my main focus toward reality. In addition, I have decided to peruse those archives once more, except this time I’ll be nuking the really embarrassing or irrelevant shit that may or not be alienating a potentially larger audience.

That’s my stated goal for this blog in 2014. Along with my new-found interest in us crazy bipeds, I’ll most likely be talking more about myself as well.

Stay tuned. There are many days ahead.

Categories: This Blog Right Here

Mister Wilson’s Neighborhood: Thanksgiving, Letters, Chinese Food and Creepiness

November 27, 2013 Leave a comment

It’s Thanksgiving Weekend again, which for me means turkey, dressing and a Friday off. It also means I’m stuck in a perpetual time-lapse because I feel like Thanksgiving ’12 literally happened last week.

Speaking of Thanksgiving ’12, something else happened last year that I’d love to forget. I can’t, however, because it’s a recurring nightmare. Read more…

Great Games – Batman: Arkham Asylum (2009)

November 13, 2013 Leave a comment

In Batman: Arkham Asylum, the Joker often expresses dismay over Batman being a psychotic and dangerous menace. We all know Joker is a sadistic madman, and not just by his reputation within the Batman mythos. In this game, the clown leaves dead bodies all over Arkham Asylum, including his own henchmen. Who is he to call the Dark Knight a lunatic?

Ironically, the Joker has a point. He refers to a man who dons a bat costume to fight crime, an action driven by a broken and mourning heart. Night after night, Batman ventures into the city to punch and kick his way through thugs and supervillains alike, for want of relief that will never come. Read more…

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