YOU JUST MADE MY LIST BUDDY…

The last twenty-four hours has been a period of systematic rage for me. For those of you who know me, this should not come as a surprise. Not that this is a violent rage, rather it is an intense reaction to the stupidity of the world around me, a deep sense of aggrievement that things such as what I have encountered over the past day actually happen, are allowed to happen, and go unpunished. Thus, I have made a list. I shall call it My List and it is not a list on which you want to be. It is a bad list.

Number Five: The writers of V for Vendetta
The wife and I went to see this film last night and we were pleasantly surprised by the film as a whole. You may ask why then did the writers make My List? Well, to put it simply, they violated my trust. After thoroughly enjoying V’s opening alliterative monologue:

"Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is it a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished, as the once vital voice of verisimilitude now venerates what they once vilified? However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin van-guarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition. The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose vis-à-vis an introduction, and so it is my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V."

The writers had convinced me of V’s literacy. This was not your run-of-the-mill mentally suspect tormented-hero-in-a-mask. No, no. This guy reads. I like this one. And then WHAM. He goes and pisses it away. He refers to something or another as – and I quote – “a myriad of.” Yes ladies and gentlemen, a myriad of. If you aren’t outraged, you should run to your dictionary. It took me a full thirty minutes to get over it, though I never fully regained faith in V.

Actually I want to add the editor or director or whoever chose to end the film with Street Fighting Man by the Rolling Stones. Throughout the film there were references to the Sex Pistols: an Anarchy in the UK from a convenience store robber; a print of the Supreme Chancellor, or whatever his title was, the design of which mimics Jamie Reid’s album cover for God Save the Queen. The film was building to s Sex Pistols song through references and tone. And then it copped out and went more mainstream.

While neither of these infractions kills the film, it makes me want to find the responsible parties and call each and every one of them a wanker, perhaps even a bloody wanker as I drip with irony for pretending to be Sid Vicious.

Number Four: The Three Teenagers Who Walked Past The Wife And Me In Target Last Night.
So… Why these particular teenagers? Why not teenagers in general? Surely they all are deserving. Yes, they are, but My List is not a list of generalities. My List is specific and it is just, and these three teenagers have risen above the crowd to show themselves as worthy of my – and hence everybody’s – scorn.

These three were actually discussing whether their friend or their friend’s sibling looked more – and again I shall quote – “chinky.” Yes folks, “chinky.” For those of you unfamiliar with this term I can verify that they meant, “appearing to have the characteristics of someone of Asian descent.” I am not kidding here. Use your imagination to fill things in a bit, but this is pretty much what the wife and I heard as we were killing time before heading over to catch the movie [see above]:

"Teen 1: Do you think she looks 'chinky?'
Teen 2: Not as much as her brother.
Teen 3: He doesn’t look as 'chinky' as her.
Teen 2: No he has more Asian features.
Teen 1: Yeah. He is definitely 'chinkier'"

And they fade behind an aisle of sheets and comforters on their way to the dire selection of pop atrocities that Target might offer in the music section, that realm of the store I resolutely avoid so as to lessen the likelihood of outrage. But alas, last night the outrage sought me out and found me. I found myself just wishing I could stop them, the teens, just for a moment and give them the Three Stooges treatment: smack them all upside the back of the head in one grand motion and leave them with a resounding utterance of “Dumbasses” echoing through the housewares department.

Number Three: George W. Bush
We all know that in a press conference in 2003 GWB stated:

"I’ve constantly expressed my displeasure with leaks, particularly leaks of classified information… If there’s a leak out of the administration, I want to know who it is. And if a person has violated the law, the person will be taken care of."

But this is not why GWB garnered position Number Three on My List today. To be quite honest, he is here simply because he exists. I find it more and more difficult to feign surprise at what I already know is happening. Gee Whiz. GWB knew about the leaking of classified information, but he said he hated leaks. Wait. That doesn't jibe together. Something ain’t right…

See… It just doesn’t ring true anymore. So, I’m sorry to all those out there who are outraged, but this just doesn’t rank that high on My List. In fact I found it hard to even sneak GWB past the grammatical violations thrust upon me by those wretched scriptwriters. [Though I also give Hugo Weaving a bit of the blame too. You should have caught that one Agent Smith.] Thus I feel disinclined to punishing GWB; I still so often feel that such abject idiocy – come on boy-o, get at least one of these stories right – can sometimes be left as its own punishment. Hence I shall be glad to cross off another day on the way to January 20, 2009: Inauguration Day.

Number Two: Sara Blakely
Sara Blakely horrifies me. If anyone out there actually knows who this person is go ahead and raise your hand and bow your head in shame. And if you have ever purchased one of her products you owe us all a serious apology. Anyone?

Okay. Sara Blakely founded Spanx. Yep. That is the name of the company. Spanx makes body shaping hosiery and such for women. I have no absolute opposition to such products – to each his or her own. But Spanx – pardon that awful pun, but there it is... As I was saying, what was even worse than the company name was the name of the product line sold at that same, ill-fated Target. Wait for it… Assets. You heard me correctly. And the package for said product displayed New Yorker-esque illustrations of the legs and asses of four women. Because, of course, those are the only Assets that really matter ladies. Assets by Spanx. Dear god I hate marketing people.

But then it got worse. I went home late that night and checked out the website. Try some of this copy on for size:

"So long, peeping thong...the Spanx low rise revolution is here! The new patent-pending Hip-notic from Spanx has lower tummy control without a waist band, so it blends into a woman's figure without digging in and causing waistline spillage or those dreaded "muffin tops." With unique butt-lifting and separating features and slick yarns that won't cling to pants or jeans, your figure looks as if you had nothing on underneath, even under light-colored pants and skirts. Plus, Hip-notic is designed to ensure that you'll have ample coverage in back, so you'll never reveal the wrong kind of cleavage when you sit down. Hip-notic comfortably smoothes and firms your lower tummy, thighs, and rear, and is guaranteed to mesmerize onlookers!"

Sara Blakely must be dealt with. She must be punished. Now don’t get me wrong. I am not advocating violence here, simply humiliation. I want everyone who encounters her for the rest of her life to say no other words to her than “Empower This, Muffin Top.” And then just walk away. Sara Blakely, you should be doomed to hear no other words for the rest of your sad, sad life. I don’t care what Oprah says about you. Hell. She liked that James Frey putz too.

Number One: Reginald Finger
At last we reach number one. To top Ms. Blakely in pissing me off you know this guy has to be special, and I promise, he is. As I was reading a back issue of the New Yorker [March 13, 2006; I am catching up after some negligence as of late] this morning I came across the article on GWB’s approach to science. Much of it I already knew, but then I came across dear old Reggie and his wonderful perspective on HIV. No, he isn’t going to be overtly over the top – at least not to those not paying careful attention. But, get a load of this quote, the one that earns him Number One on My List:

"With any vaccine for HIV, disinhibition would certainly be a factor, and it is something we will have to pay attention to with a great deal of care."

This guy might actually oppose an HIV vaccine if there were one – hopefully there will be soon – because it might lower some people’s inhibitions about having sex. Right about now in the realization of what is going on here is when I find these words floating up to the top of my head: “You twisted, sanctimonious, sun-of-a-BLEEP. Are you saying what I think you’re saying? I mean… [From here the internal monologue degenerates into something resembling the ratsum-fratsum-fristsum-fratsum of Yosemite Sam]”

I have known for quite some time that the Christian Right is chock full of raving lunatics, but come on. Because an HIV vaccine – along with the currently delayed HPV vaccine – might interfere with the plan to have a single policy for dealing with STDs, pregnancy, and pretty much everything to do with teenagers and twenty-somethings: i.e. abstinence only – this schmuck wants to put thousands upon thousands of lives at risk.

Because this SOB [son-of-a-BLEEP that is] doesn’t want little Jimmy and sweet innocent little Chrissie to make the Beast With Two Backs, read anything other than Genesis for science instruction, or god knows what else he is opposed to, he is willing to condemn generations to HIV? You worry about your kids’ inhibitions Reggie, but when I have kids I damn well want hope there is an HIV vaccine and I am damn sure I will have my kids in line to get theirs. And if there is even the slightest chance that you and your posse have significantly interfered with the development of such a vaccine – or in fact keep the HPV vaccine, which is a great tool for preventing cervical cancer, from reaching the market – I will be the first one to demand that you be taken out into every public square and be kicked in the nuts. Yes, I said it. I know I shouldn’t advocate violence [*disclaimer: I am not really advocating violence; I think all violence really sucks] but in your case – Reginald Finger – I am making an exception. I want to personally kick you in the nuts and then deliver a rousing “Ha-Ha” a la Nelson of Simpsons fame.

And there you have it. That is My List. If you have an opportunity to mete out any of these punishments, by all means do so. And with that I shall bid you adieu. [Thomas bows his way off stage doffing his cap with a gesture the grace of which has never before been encountered and then promptly falls on his arse.]