Friday, January 30, 2009

Out With the Old, In With the New

(An open letter of gratification/ love note for our newest villain-crush)

With all the Hope and Change floating around in the air these days it's easy to forget that we have recently lost some major players in the Darth Vader sweepstakes for the most dastardly dudes in the galaxy. It's hard to nominate any one member of the former Bush administration, so we'll give the whole lot of them the evil-doing title of, well, The Bush Administration (say it out loud... gives you the willies, doesn't it?) and lump them all in as a single entity on par with the Legion of Doom, Hell's Angels or Satan's Minions (formerly known as the Backstreet Boys, and currently incarnated as the cast of High School Musical). Sayonara, sadists. Enjoy your time guest-hosting for Rush Limbaugh.

It is, however, no secret here in the unread digital dominion that is Bigmouth that your narrator has had a secret bunker of affection in his heart for the one and only Mr. Dick Cheney 
(quite possibly Vader himself, without the "Return of the Jedi" redemption wuss-out), who recently sealed his evil-incarnate role in American history by showing up to Obama's Inauguration in a wheelchair like some James Bond villain about to reveal the contents of his underwater lair (take note, Mr. Biden). So while we bid adieu to Dick and his Penguin-esque profile, we have been privileged to say hello to our newest Gotham gargoyle (hey, there's a reason they shot "The Dark Knight" in Chicago). Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Rod Blagojevich!

Let's review: Rod got himself square in the middle of an FBI investigation when he was caught on tape trying to sell Obama's Senate seat to the highest bidder. Bold? Certainly! But Rod was just getting warmed up. Not content to merely be one of the more crooked politicians in Chicago ( where they invented the word and served it up with a side of bratwurst and Old Style over 100 years ago), which would be a feat unto itself, Rod decided to crank it up about 1,000 more notches. Some notable excerpts: When the Feds showed up at his door, he thought some one was "Punking" him... he explained that all the cussing on the tapes was fine because he "wasn't talking to a woman"... the thought occurred to him that if he couldn't find someone to pay him for the seat he might just appoint himself, or OPRAH(?!?)... and he did all of this while rocking some kind of Burt Reynolds -meets -Donald Trump -in -a-static- storm hairstyle that would make Don King start wearing a beanie. Somewhere in Wasilla, Sarah Palin is neglecting her grandmotherly duties, taking notes, and repeating the phrase, "Palin/ Blagojevich" to see if it's got a 2012 ring to it.

And just when we started spelling his name right in Google search (is it coincidental that it bears a visual resemblance to Iago, one of Shakespeare's best villains? No? Too literary for ya? Anyone?) he found another notch on the scale, put on some Soulja Boy and yelled "Crank Dat!" once more. Launching a media blitz bizarre enough to make Mike Tyson scratch is tattooed head, while his IMPEACHMENT TRIAL was underway, Rowdy Rod booked himself on every show imaginable, including... wait for it... THE VIEW!!! And once he got his Lego hair onto the couch of that chicken coop he delivered a slew of batshit-crazy sound bites sure to make the collective heads of the "Daily Show" staff simply implode. No jokes neccesary people, just sit back and enjoy the narcisism! References included The Bible, Nelson Mandela, Ghandi and my personal favorite, a mantra containing the phrase "The fix is in." Pure, delicious, evil genius.

And so, Rod was thrown out of the governor's office while in the midst of an interview with Geraldo in some parking lot, and his saga was laid to rest. But what a bright burning star you are, Mr. Blagojevich! Nelson Mandela may be outraged, and Ghandi may be rolling over in his grave, but somewhere Dick and Kim Jong-Il are drinking mai tais, bitching about "Frost/Nixon", and saluting you sir.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

If a Blog Posts in the Forrest...

(A rumination, in celebration of the illumination of a cyber-spacial birthday candle)

So, Bigmouth Strikes Again is officially a year old, and no one cares because nobody reads this thing. But before you (and by that, we mean our afore-mentioned fictional audience)  assign us a Kanye-complex, give us a nanosecond to explain our position on the matter:


We (or I, or your Narrator... what are you a private eye or something?) absolutely adore the fact that no one reads this blog. There is something quite satisfying in the idea of being a digital bullhorn barking at nothing more than a crowd of 0's and 1's. Because if a tree that falls unheard in the forrest makes no sound, then a blog that has no readership is perhaps not really even a blog. Which is fantastic.

It is in fact, a blog birthday wish come true, and we have no one to thank but the millions (okay, realistically probably hundreds... allow us a little hyperbole, it's our birthday!) of intrepid inter-webbers who simply don't show up here. 

Blogs are ubiquitous now, and everyone from neo-narcissists like Kanye West and Ryan Adams to super-serious-ists like Anderson Cooper feels the need to chime in or post about everything. In fact, most blogs now are just re-treads of posts from OTHER blogs, which are themselves re-writes from ACTUAL news outlets, most of whom have cribbed their stories from OTHER news outlets. It's re-diculous. Posting a picture of the new Nike Air Whatzit from Hypebeast and then adding the word, "Wow!!!!" or some txt variant with no vowels does not a great post make, people. Nor does adding all the same photos you have on your Facebook, Myspace (that still exists, right? Myspace?) or Flickr pages make you some kind of breakthrough presence on the web. Odds are you're not even a breakthrough presence in your own photos.

Which brings us back to Bigmouth (note the, ahem, no photo policy at work here). We are none of these things, and will continue our anti-existence here in our little rant-filled cyber-vacuum as long as we can hack it ( and we stress the hack part of that). So until next time, dear non-existent readers, stay frosty out there in cyberspace, and keep on keeping on ignoring us.