Thursday, September 17, 2009

I brush my teeth everyday, therefore I blog

School is back in session, my little pretties, and believe me, I weep for my holidays too. I'm melancholy today as I stand in the corridor amidst the unbearable squealing chatter of the young with my arms folded, mourning the golden silence of summer that has ended. As I settle into the day to day, I'm beginning to wonder what the point of it all is.

The beginning of the school year always provokes déjà vu. A new batch of students arrive, their white tennis shoes like blinding fluorescent light bulbs, their eyes wide and hopeful. Crooked teeth jut out at me forming genuine smiles, but alas, their teeths' days of crooked originality with their charmingly overlapped incisors are numbered; soon they will be aligned with military orthodontic precision inside a shit-talking, ass-kissing mouth whose only language is cliche. Year after year, children unique in their artful ways are painfully shoved through the meat grinder of sameness, excreted out into the world of banality, mixed with all the other fat and protein, never to stand out as bright as they once had the potential to. A very few leave their mark on the world in some way, but most, even bright ones will end up settling for the shallow waters of life, never bothering to take off their stupid floaties to explore the deep end and see if there is anything below the surface that is worth the effort.

They will marry.

They will eat a buttload of junk food while watching T.V.

They will join a gym and lose all the weight they gained.

They will procreate, wherein the fact that they have made full use of their capacities as placental mammals and the fact that they have struggled with weight loss will completely hijack their entire sense of self, and they will think and talk about precious little else. They will start a mommy/exercise blog, and the only guiding principle for their posts will be that they must be made up, almost entirely, of the following words or phrases:

-vlog
-Wordless Wednesday
-mommy
-hubby
-baby
-potty
-contest
-giveaway
-meme
-blog radio
-twitter, tweet grid, tweets, twitter party, twinkling twitching twat (okay I threw that last one in to liven up this god awful list).

They will implode in their own redundancy and disappear from reality into a black hole of anti-art*

Which, now that I think of it, makes it nearly impossible for me to review this blog, because I cannot philosophically distinguish it from all of the trivial meaninglessness I see all around me. It cannot be separated from all the other gristle and tissue of homogenized mediocrity. It is one with the salmonella floating freely through this non-universe.

This blog is one of the many whose sole existence is justified on the basis of community engagement, encouragement (for getting through You-Name-Your-Crisis), and, I suspect, subconscious solace-seeking so as not to drown in the murky waters of nihilism. But I, for one, am annoyed with community engagement absent artful communication, I am discouraged by your empty encouragement that fails to connect with Me The Reader, and I feel depressed when I see how others find solace in your hackneyed anti-narrative.

I want more.

I want painfully beautiful sentences contained within a story that has a point. I want the writer to toy with words until they slither around my head and I savor their every nuance. I want the laugh sucked out of my throat, filling the space between me and my computer screen with audible delight. I want to jealously kick myself wishing it had been me who had thought to string those words together so eloquently. I want my mouth to gape open at talent, or at the bare minimum, effort. But mostly, I want utter generosity of self. I want the unhearthed innards of one's psyche, the best and worst of what is inside their mind. I'm greedy as fuck like that. I don't want the tedium of life regurgitated into my face with ready-made phrases while in the meantime having the shit hypnotized out of me by sidebars of blazing doom which attempt to distract me from the total and absolute lack of meaningful content.

Bookieboo -- I can honestly say that if I met you in real life and heard your amazing weight loss story, I would tell you that you look awesome and high five you for your hard work and congratulate you on your beautiful family. But here, on this turf, I'm going to dare you to take some of the travail that allowed you to give birth, make it through a difficult loss, and wake up everyday and get your ass to gym and put just an ounce of that sweat into crafting your blog posts into stories. I mean, what the shit is this? Tell some of those embarrassing tales from junior high school; don't just blog about how you talked about it on the blog radio. Don't talk to me about sex like I'm your next door neighbor's eight year old daughter; for christsake give me some substance. Knock it the hell off with the skin-deep twitter, radio and video bullshit, roll up your sleeves and get your write on and give me some art or get the fuck out of my face.

And would you please put your sidebar on a cabbage diet? At the moment it is gavaged with junk that stabs my eyeballs like pixelated syringes of poison and makes me hate humanity while simultaneously being thankful for being distracted from your annoying anti-posts.

No, Bookieboo, you don't get an B- on your report card for being a sweet mommy who lost a ton of weight. You made me question the metaphysical existence of your blog, and thus my computer, and thus the apple on my desk, and thus myself, and whether or not any of it has any meaning and I don't need that shit on a weekday in an environment where heavy binge drinking is frowned upon.

Run along to the mall now, I believe there is a sale at Abercrombie.




P.S. Your cartoon header sucks ballz, yo.


*I mean this literally and am not referencing the anti-art art movement, which actually has something to say.

44 comments:

  1. Oh, Madame. This is the best review I've read in a while. Speaking of wishing you'd written something. You nailed it and I couldn't agree more. Enough of this homogenized, sanitized, pre-packaged horseshit.

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  3. Oh, boy, does that review just give it to her in the you-know-what!

    (Imagine a bent-at-the-elbow, 'oh shoot'/'gee whiz'/'shoot' gesture.)

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  4. I don't think I'm familiar with this gesture.

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  5. Thank you Cal. This wasn't an easy one for me, because I'm sure Bookieboo is nice person but she's just not gettin' it. I don't understand why she doesn't start an internet forum or something and leave the blog world to people who are interested in writing. Actually, that's bullshit. Do whatever you want with your blogs, people. Fill it with a bunch of videos of your kids. But why in the fuck submit for a review?

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  6. I'm sorry. Does anyone know where I can get some quality shoes?

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  7. This review kicked ass. You (the reviewer) are some kind of writer!

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  8. Peeps - I can't stand product reviews on blogs (unless it's Cal's sex toys), although I'm quite certain I would read yours if you were to do them. I don't like blogs that feel like commercials, though, even if they give something a bad review, it drives me nuts. Is there nothing holy anymore?

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  9. If someone asked me to review chocolate, I'd totally do it. I can be bought. I'm not all that principled. Will blog for dildos and chocolate.

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  10. This week is just a stream of mommyblogs from hell.

    I should add, for the record, that 60% of the blogs in my 'must read' folder are made up of mommy and daddy bloggers. For reals. I figured out the percentages.

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  11. I swear to y'all I was totally going to do my review yesterday, but the chick stopped blogging, so I figured what's the point?

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  12. She probably wouldn't have cared about your review.

    Actually Bookieboo didn't have a whole lot to review, she hasn't been blogging all that long. But I figured she could do with the direction at this early stage.

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  13. Fuck mommyblogging. And doublefuck mommybloggers for raising mothers to be future mommybloggers.

    Enjoyable review.

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  14. A hilarious review. That blog is ghastly almost beyond belief. Horrifying to read and even worse to look at. It encompasses almost everything I hate about the blog world and in that regard, I suppose, it has achieved a rare and perfect art.

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  15. gap - the mommyblogging isn't the problem, because there are bloggers that can mommy it up and it's fucking good, like Ginny and Formerly Fun and countless others. The problem is the complete lack of ability to imagine what people would want to spend their time reading. It's being capable of asking yourself, "Who in their fucking right mind would care that this morning I had a dental appointment and then I picked up some milk and eggs after getting a car wash? And who in the fuck would care that I could have served bread with dinner but forgot to?"

    Life is so much more than that shit, come on!

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  16. I don't know who Ginny is (but I'm sure she's good if you say so) and FF doesn't bore my breasts to shrivel with incessant mommyblogger. The recent mommyblogs are so bad that I feel like starting one of my own...and I'm barren and childless.

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  17. I fucking swear to you, I was standing on a playground just now, thanking Christ it started raining so we could go home, when the hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I KNEW someone was talking about me.

    And you were. Creepy.

    Madame Bellicose, that was a great review. I wholeheartedly agree that it falls into the category of "what I wish I'd written."

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  18. If it weren't for people like Ginny (and FF and all those other moms that don't do stupid shit on their blog) I would vow never, ever, ever to procreate, for fear of becoming another person who only cares about losing weight and the stupid stuff that babies do. Because honestly, everyone wants to lose weight, and all babies do stupid stuff.

    Where's a weight-loss blog about adrenaline and uncomfortable sports bras, and how you get so sweaty that you damn near shave your head, but you don't want people to think you've been watching too much V for Vendetta so you decide against it at the last minute and return your neighbor's Headblade in shame because you're such a goddamn wuss?

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  19. I was wondering how anyone could write about working out and make it interesting, but yes Rassles, that would certainly be interesting.

    Actually, speaking of working out, I used to teach aerobics. On occasion I would forget I was scheduled to teach and would accidentally smoke a bunch of pot and then remember at the last minute and actually show up and give the class. Damn was I ever stoopid. I had a nice bod back then though. Sigh. Gone are the days. I should write a post about that sometime.

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  20. Madame, obviously you haven't read my own Pay Per Post. I suggest reading it with a glass of Coca Cola, The Thirst Quencher!

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  21. Fucking loved this review, and hated that blog.


    Feeling like I maybe got a free pass from Calamity for having a fucked up kid though.

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  22. Great review, Madame B. I think giving her the moose was extremely generous and proof that maybe you're not as tough as you make yourself out to be.

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  23. Just to see what would happen, I went into the bathroom and looked into the mirror and then whispered "mommyblogger" 3 times.

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  24. Creepazoid, it wasn't you. Promise. This person actually said they wouldn't be blogging anymore. And it was all smutty talk, which might have been fun to review, actually.

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  25. So. I go away for a few weeks and suddenly I see what looks like us turning on one of our own? That quote of the week -- I thought we liked Chris.

    Of course, I had to dig and see that there is "Good Chris" and "Bad Chris". Like good touch and bad touch, I guess. Bad Chris should have been forced to use a different name.

    And then I find out that Key and DPH are procreating? Wasn't a congressional resolution passed about that a few years back? What the hell is this world coming to?

    Okay, crawling back under my rock for a few more weeks. See ya later.

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  26. Bear: Yes, that act of Congress would have passed, had it not been for all this talk of healthcare reform, teabags, and bipartisan hoopla. Let the Pirate Ghost grow. Hell, this child may even glow. One thing is for sure: Congress will learn never to make that mistake again.

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  27. A really wonderful review. Well done and many thanks.

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  28. This was a great review and as a blogger who has kids and sometimes put stuff about them on my blog, I am totally against everything on that list you mentioned. Especially most of those items too. And I was so sure that I was so sure who the Madame was after reading that review, though now after reading these comments I'm really not all that sure. What the hell is going on here?

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