no, that shit is not racist at all (probably)
Broad City Live: FRAT! Audience pics. Featuring PLEDGE MASTER, John Milhiser.
Best night of my life.
Could not possibly be any more excited.
Incredibly well-crafted edit of Pino Donaggio’s “Body Double” theme. Brought to my attention thanks to Falcon Punch’s recent White Light Mix.
I used to write a website about movies and television with the occasional Think Piece on Gwyneth Paltrow’s spending power. It is a website that just happens to be closing up shop for good tomorrow, unfortunately. Ours was a love the world could not understand. R.I.P.
By the end of my tenure at the soon (so soon) to be defunct pop culture website, it genuinely felt like I was reading the Entire Internet every day, and the only takeaway one can have from reading the Entire Internet every day is that the Internet is 100% Horrible. There’s a common sense that the Internet is just a collection of sad adolescent trolls hiding in their parents’ basements throwing digital feces through the proverbial bars, but the truth is much worse. Everyone is throwing the digital feces. The trolls just enjoy it a little more.
So, one of the most wonderful aspects of stopping writing for that website on a daily basis was that I also stopped reading other websites on a daily basis. With rare exception, I haven’t LOOKED at a blog in six months, much less read one. I still look at Tumblr most days, but Tumblr might as well be Instagram. It hardly counts.
And yet, I somehow have not managed to escape Blog Culture, because Blog Culture has become so pervasive that we are all doomed to a wasteland future of ad hominem non-jokes, knee-jerk unreflective judgements punched out on iPads during commercial breaks, and a Smithsonian’s worth of #selfies.
Yesterday, videogum reposted a thing I wrote for them back in 2010 in which I was asked to attend and document a Brokencyde concert. It was one of the worst nights of my life, although I still attest that Millionaires (RIP to the both of them, probably) were two of the most fascinating pieces of art/trash I’ve ever seen.
Running hard down the street through the snow and the sleet on the coldest night of the year.