The "Pschitt Book" is now officially online for your viewing pleasure. No longer will it have to remain stuffed away in some box which I can no longer locate. Now the whole world can see it, meaning the world of people who read my blog (population: 2).
What is the Pschitt Book?
It is a short "book" of photographs I took four years ago while living in France. When I got home, I scanned the photos and fixed them up in Photoshop.
What is Pschitt?!
It's a French soda.
What does Pschitt mean?
In French it is pronounced "psheet," or the noise a soda can makes when you open it. But in English, it is pronounced "pshit," or the stuff you deposit when you visit the restroom.
Who are in the photographs?
Me (at age 20), a couple friends, and of course the lovely Pschitt himself.
This is dumb. Why would you waste your time?
Shut up, you.
Click Here to See the Book!
Sunday, August 29, 2004
Friday, August 27, 2004
Silence, the Anti-Quote
I don't think it's right that great movies are always getting raped by quote junkies. It happens all the time: some funny movie comes out, and before you even see it, you've heard it quoted 40,000 times. Wow, you think, this movie sounds dumb as hell.
But it's actually a GOOD movie, it has just been distorted by bad-quoting; people flinging out lines that sound nothing at all like how the actor said it, and usually only vaguely close to the actual line.
Or, after seeing a movie, you want to relish in the fond memories of a great flick, but instead have to relive it through constant, painful quoting.
Shame on you Excessive Movie Quoters. You know who you are.
This happened recently to me with Napoleon Dynamite. This is an absurd comedy about a nerdy guy from Preston, Idaho. It's whacky, it's original, it's entertaining. But, man, is it over quoted. I hear it quoted at work, among friends, at gatherings, and even in the theatre before the lines are delivered!
Just because the film was funny, doesn't make YOU funny by endlessly repeating lines. Sure, once in a while, here and there. But not ALL THE TIME. It's obnoxious, it's annoying. It's what Satan wants.
Another example is Monty Python. You really have to be in a silly British-humor sort of mood to laugh at Python. But when it's quoted, you are usually not in that mood. Plus, the high-pitched cockney accents are always way off. Eric Idle would turn over in his grave. (No he's not dead, but if he were, he would turn.)
Not only has over-quoting ruined many movies, it has also damaged people's ability to distinguish between original humor and scripted humor. You know you're in a sad, sad situation when you're with a group of people and someone says something absurdly funny and someone else asks, “Where's that from?” Sometimes I want to smack that person.
It's all an interesting paradox, really. Yes, constant quoting can make a good movie seem bad, but it also has the reverse effect. Terrible movies, when quoted often enough, seem a whole lot funnier. Take Event Horizon for example. This movie is perhaps one of the worst I have ever seen. Yet there are so many delightfully horrid lines, I could quote it all day. Dune, the original movie adaptation of the old Sci-Fi novel, can be hilarious when quoted.
So there you have it. Don't quote great movies; they can stand on their own. It's the bad ones that need a boost. So, in conclusion, if you're ever in the mood to rent the American Idle classic “From Justin to Kelly,” do us a favor: quote away.
But it's actually a GOOD movie, it has just been distorted by bad-quoting; people flinging out lines that sound nothing at all like how the actor said it, and usually only vaguely close to the actual line.
Or, after seeing a movie, you want to relish in the fond memories of a great flick, but instead have to relive it through constant, painful quoting.
Shame on you Excessive Movie Quoters. You know who you are.
This happened recently to me with Napoleon Dynamite. This is an absurd comedy about a nerdy guy from Preston, Idaho. It's whacky, it's original, it's entertaining. But, man, is it over quoted. I hear it quoted at work, among friends, at gatherings, and even in the theatre before the lines are delivered!
Just because the film was funny, doesn't make YOU funny by endlessly repeating lines. Sure, once in a while, here and there. But not ALL THE TIME. It's obnoxious, it's annoying. It's what Satan wants.
Another example is Monty Python. You really have to be in a silly British-humor sort of mood to laugh at Python. But when it's quoted, you are usually not in that mood. Plus, the high-pitched cockney accents are always way off. Eric Idle would turn over in his grave. (No he's not dead, but if he were, he would turn.)
Not only has over-quoting ruined many movies, it has also damaged people's ability to distinguish between original humor and scripted humor. You know you're in a sad, sad situation when you're with a group of people and someone says something absurdly funny and someone else asks, “Where's that from?” Sometimes I want to smack that person.
It's all an interesting paradox, really. Yes, constant quoting can make a good movie seem bad, but it also has the reverse effect. Terrible movies, when quoted often enough, seem a whole lot funnier. Take Event Horizon for example. This movie is perhaps one of the worst I have ever seen. Yet there are so many delightfully horrid lines, I could quote it all day. Dune, the original movie adaptation of the old Sci-Fi novel, can be hilarious when quoted.
So there you have it. Don't quote great movies; they can stand on their own. It's the bad ones that need a boost. So, in conclusion, if you're ever in the mood to rent the American Idle classic “From Justin to Kelly,” do us a favor: quote away.
Thursday, August 19, 2004
Curiously Strong Beef
Yesterday I went to the Curiosa festival in Salt Lake. I went, of course, to see the Cure and take the opportunity to enjoy Robert Smith before he starts to decompose (having passed away from old age years ago). The Usana amphitheatre was at capacity, brimming with all kinds of interesting people, although the majority seemed to be severely colorblind (not being able to differentiate between colors other than black). Goth or not, they were all fairly young, yet still rabid fans, even though the Cure has been around for a long, long time--since the Twenties, I think.
It's in these exploration years that young adults tend to experiment with harmful and often destructive practices—like rampant hedonism, drugs, and/or vegetarianism. Yes, PETA, everyone's favorite animal defenders and veggie-lifestyle advocates had a booth at the festival. PETA is known for protesting everything from the cruel slaughter of bovine to the cruel practice of staring down geese.
These days, vegetarians like to pretend they're hip, socially conscious do-gooders, and not just spacey hippies. Boy, do they have their work cut out for them. Yet I joke. I actually quite respect vegetarians, although it is not my lifestyle of choice.
But what vegetarians certainly don't need is PETA on their side. Let's be honest: PETA is whacky. It almost feels like they get some kind of sadistic pleasure out of barraging us with images of animals being viciously abused come slaughter-time. I just don't want to think about THAT while I’m chomping on a cheeseburger. Do you see me trying to ruin your soy yogurt by revealing to you what soy is really made of? (chalk dust).
The answer is no, PETA. Leave me alone. And please leave the teenage goth kids alone too, who want nothing more than to come see the Cure, smoke pot, and contemplate suicide. And yet you insist on distracting them. That's just cruel.
It's in these exploration years that young adults tend to experiment with harmful and often destructive practices—like rampant hedonism, drugs, and/or vegetarianism. Yes, PETA, everyone's favorite animal defenders and veggie-lifestyle advocates had a booth at the festival. PETA is known for protesting everything from the cruel slaughter of bovine to the cruel practice of staring down geese.
These days, vegetarians like to pretend they're hip, socially conscious do-gooders, and not just spacey hippies. Boy, do they have their work cut out for them. Yet I joke. I actually quite respect vegetarians, although it is not my lifestyle of choice.
But what vegetarians certainly don't need is PETA on their side. Let's be honest: PETA is whacky. It almost feels like they get some kind of sadistic pleasure out of barraging us with images of animals being viciously abused come slaughter-time. I just don't want to think about THAT while I’m chomping on a cheeseburger. Do you see me trying to ruin your soy yogurt by revealing to you what soy is really made of? (chalk dust).
The answer is no, PETA. Leave me alone. And please leave the teenage goth kids alone too, who want nothing more than to come see the Cure, smoke pot, and contemplate suicide. And yet you insist on distracting them. That's just cruel.
Wednesday, August 18, 2004
Love Letter
Dear Mr. Macintosh,
I have a confession to make. I think I have feelings for you. This wasn't supposed to happen. I was content to smugly downplay you as an inferior machine. I scoffed at your one-button mouse, your unfamiliar operating system, your goofy, sleek design.
But spending hours with you every day for the past few months has changed me forever. At first it was difficult to admit it to myself, having been against you for so long. I felt like a NRA member having to admit Charlton Heston is hopelessly insane. It's not easy, but it's the truth. I couldn't help but fall for you. You're simple and stylish. You're smooth, easy to navigate, and charmingly practical.
Do me a favor. Don't tell old man IBM. He wouldn't understand. How could he? We've been together so long, he just wouldn't be able to deal with someone new in my life. Besides, he doesn't suspect a thing. Let's leave him happy and ignorant. You'll have me at work and he'll have me at home. It's best this way.
Affectionately Yours,
Jeremy
Postscript:
I hope this letter was sufficiently creepy.
I have a confession to make. I think I have feelings for you. This wasn't supposed to happen. I was content to smugly downplay you as an inferior machine. I scoffed at your one-button mouse, your unfamiliar operating system, your goofy, sleek design.
But spending hours with you every day for the past few months has changed me forever. At first it was difficult to admit it to myself, having been against you for so long. I felt like a NRA member having to admit Charlton Heston is hopelessly insane. It's not easy, but it's the truth. I couldn't help but fall for you. You're simple and stylish. You're smooth, easy to navigate, and charmingly practical.
Do me a favor. Don't tell old man IBM. He wouldn't understand. How could he? We've been together so long, he just wouldn't be able to deal with someone new in my life. Besides, he doesn't suspect a thing. Let's leave him happy and ignorant. You'll have me at work and he'll have me at home. It's best this way.
Affectionately Yours,
Jeremy
Postscript:
I hope this letter was sufficiently creepy.
Saturday, August 14, 2004
Toilet Bowl of Doom
I’ve often heard the phrase “that’s money down the drain.” It’s not supposed to be literal. It’s an expression like…”Who’s your Daddy?” (Which people say even when they know perfectly well who your father is.) Tell that to my toilet. I was rushing to get ready for a wedding reception, and was late as usual (see my “Marriage-a-Thon” post in the June Archives if you don’t believe me). I’ve decided to stop blaming myself that I’m always late to these kinds of things and just accept that the fact that tardiness to wedding receptions was coded into my DNA at birth.
So I was rushing, and in the process of changing pants I threw everything from my pockets onto the bed. I went to the bathroom to visit the toilet and as I was flushing, I noticed something fall into the swirling water. “What’s that,” I asked myself casually. Then I noticed it was green and looked like money. Oh Crap! It was the $10 I had just gotten from my debit card not 15 minutes before. And there it went, down to wherever toilets take your bodily waste—which is to San Bernardino, I think.
Looks like when I was tossing everything out of my pockets, it got stuck on the very edge and flew out as I reached to flush. I’ve used pay toilets before, but this was ridiculous. Most expensive trip to the bathroom ever!
So I was rushing, and in the process of changing pants I threw everything from my pockets onto the bed. I went to the bathroom to visit the toilet and as I was flushing, I noticed something fall into the swirling water. “What’s that,” I asked myself casually. Then I noticed it was green and looked like money. Oh Crap! It was the $10 I had just gotten from my debit card not 15 minutes before. And there it went, down to wherever toilets take your bodily waste—which is to San Bernardino, I think.
Looks like when I was tossing everything out of my pockets, it got stuck on the very edge and flew out as I reached to flush. I’ve used pay toilets before, but this was ridiculous. Most expensive trip to the bathroom ever!
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