The misadventure and dances of Perry Roland Coralsbey
Finally, a diagnosis.
My skin wasn’t meant not to be covered up with lotion and down feathers.
Why aren’t you listening to M83’s “Before the Dawn Heals Us” right now?
Kanye West is still being underrated.
He is the second Stephen Foster.
Everyone who dies on the side of something you’re for isn’t a hero.
God said into the world for comic effect.
“I’m choking on the peanut butter goodness!”
-Jordan Kleinsmith
In oh-that-makes-sense news, Dan Greene, the ever auspicious silver swordfish of all that is decent on campus, is now an admitted (proclaimed?) atheist. If Tom Paine had intercourse with a sneer of a humor column, you’d get this cat.
Both of my parents (Keith and Dianne) are apparently minorly successful music recording artists. They are also coming up from The Fort this evening to discuss their mutual disappointment with my career as their son.
As a smoker and a snob, I’m mortified.
Hey, Medved.
“Building newsprint boats I race to sewer mains.”
-Ryan Adams
I’ve been fairly cautious in comparing neoconservatives, in all their shamelessness, to nationalists or fascists. Hillsdale-apple-eye culture alarmist and radio talk (yep) show host Michael Medved presented a lecture, based loosely on the week’s topic of war on film and steeped in anachronistic superlatives, at tonight’s CCA. He was a charlatan but respectably reprobate in his propagandistic delivery. Consider:
1.) Romanticizing the nation’s military-cultural past.
Medved praised an apparently protestants’ people Hollywood of the WWII era. The town’s aspiring were dime store girls and farm boys who loved democracy and were ready to join a brother in arms as soon as they’d let ‘em. Directors, too, made “classic” war films which rallied the people behind the noblest of all causes–war.
Medved further failed to mention the prevailing Communist (and anti-American) sympathy in Hollywood at the time, and the then ironic fact that many films were ethnocentric glorifications of warfare, pilage, and democracy as a cure-all.
2.) Constructing and polorizing classes.
In a socialist vein, a number of his complaints against Hollywood, liberals, anti-war activists, and non-supporters of the president were anti-privilege/intellectual. Look, he said, at the rich Ivy Leaguers trying to implement the Marxist literary theory they learned at that elite leftist school of theirs. Contrast this to the average nuclear-family-loving Ohio Baptist farmer and straight ticket Republican voter (aka righteous proletariat).
3.) Renaming and rewiring.
How to raise support for the war on Iraq? Compare it to a war with strong public support like WWI and WWII. By renaming the Cold War (including Vietnam) WWIII and Iraq (and beyond) WWIV, he rewired impression of the two most recent wars to correspond with the previous two. Even better, according to Medved, not only was the Vietnam War justified–we won it.
4.) Elevated and dated (wartime/warlike) speech.
5.) The Lord is on our side as we honorably fight a people of darkness.
6.) Peace is suspect; war is glorious.
7.) You are against us if you are not for us.
And was the fraud of a nationalist met by criticism from historically and constitutionally aware students and donors? Or was he given an unsettlingly spirited standing ovation?
It makes one want to fly the sickle and hammer before thinking better.
Transcribed from actual events.
Hillsdale Student A: Today’s Wednesday, right?
Hillsdale Student B: Yah.
HSA: Cool. Michael Medved is speaking tonight.
HSB: Michael Medved?!? Sweet, that dude is tight.
Michael Francisco, winner of the Spring 2004 Hillsdale Douche Bag Lifetime Achievement Award, has a site dedicated to his (presumably evangelical and anti-contraceptive themed) wedding. Charley P. and I stumbled across this gem the other semester and as Def Leppard said, “How could this be wrong, it’s unbelievable.”
I’m going to look into this.
After leafing through the recent issue of the homeschool hysteric that is the Hillsdale Conservative, Dwight Silva commented on how similar the religious right’s denunciations of popular culture (read: cohabitation, chrome, breasts) were to that of radical Islamists.
Yesterday at the school showing of The Grand Illusion, a block section of students booed and called for Rambo after the presenter noted the film was in French with subtitles. I’m not sure if they disapproved of the country or the captions, but as Huck Finn said, “It was enough to make a body ashamed of the human race.”
Coors Original describes itself as the “premium rocky banquet mountain beer”.
I’m not sure what that means, but it looks like it’s coattails for ma n’ pa this weekend.
Happy 21st to resident Scottish stud Jordan Kleinsmith.
Is the Long Island Ice Tea a girlie drink? I see both sides of the issue, like god does with most cultural controversies.
Instead of the Harbrace Handbook, freshman should simply be instructed to memorize George Orwell’s six rules of writing from his essay “Politics and the English Language”.
Oh, the passive and it’s defenders in the classics department.
Favorite obscenity: goddamnit
Aside from a few minor, though degrading comedically, editorial snips, my long self-anticipated piece, intended to be titled “The Hillsdale Slacker Manifesto”, was featured in this week’s Collegian, along with a handsome mythological characticture. I’m sporting a revealing toga and hurling a lighting bolt at the school. Fuckin A.
I glossed through Vibe and bumped Talib Kweli this morning but still feel white.
If only the audio of Superchunk’s “Slack Motherfucker” could have accompanied my article.
A poignantly upsetting surprise. I just returned from leaving early a Scott Cairns poetry (pronounced poe-tree, preferably with a British snoot) workshop in which Ben Finnegan’s dabblings were not the poorest. And this is taking into account his faux-Dr. Cunneo-anglophile-classics-major-for-the-chicks modulation when reading. And he’s a Mu Alpha. And he listens to Christian rock. And he used to set his bare feet on his desk and sometimes the professor’s in Latin class.
For the Hillsdale fundie, life is good. There’s church and Bible studies a majority of weeknights, swing club on Saturday, and still enough time left over to court a spouse or kill a fag. Plus, America is in the protestantly prayerful and always honest down-home valuing hands of the Republicans. Could it get any better, peeps? Wah-ell, it can. Righteous-cause GW is fighting the socialist welfare system through faith-based initiatives. Three cheers two hundred twenty-two times for our leader!
Muffin Blueberry Frank, R.I.P.
Where there are always backyards to hunt in, bushes to piss on, and nice ladies to fall asleep with.
