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The Library of Discontent

Seth MacFarlane, you’re not funny. Give it up.

Hey, you know what Family Guy, American Dad, and The Cleveland Show all have in common?  Assuming you’ve even heard of the Cleveland Show by now and have also NOT committed suicide knowing it exists, I’ll tell you: all three are the projects of a guy named Seth MacFarlane.  Seth, after an attempt in the 90′s to make children’s cartoons (and failing miserably), was eventually responsible for Family Guy, a mostly garbled animated sitcom with a lot of pointless pop culture references and segues that veer straight off a cliff into the unfunny unknown.  The show’s low percentage of actual humor is countered by shock laughs, sex gags, and uncomfortable subjects that kids shouldn’t be watching, but probably are because hey, it’s a cartoon right?  Cartoons can’t be bad.

Warning: Cartoons can be bad.  Very bad.

See, the thing about MacFarlane’s humor is that it’s funny to him and was never very funny to anyone but him, until he convinced a lot of idiots that his formula was a display of utter brilliance and laughs, the same idiots that still watch the Simpsons hoping it will ever be as good as it once was, and even then it was overrated.  The allure of making an animated sitcom is hey, you can make your characters do practically anything without worrying about budget or props, and thanks to MacFarlane, they can say anything they want too, much to the dismay of people who aren’t impressed by constant flashbacks, and those who don’t drag their knuckles when they walk.  Can anyone count the number of times in one episode without losing track, just how many times Peter “remembers the time” he <did something zany> with <famous person>?  If you said yes, there’s a good chance you’re a liar, seeing as sitting through an entire episode of that shit means you probably can’t count nearly that high.

The sad thing is, Family Guy is his best show.  It gets the most attention from writers and advertisers and as much as I hate to admit this, has a broader base to build upon than something like American Dad or The Cleveland Show.  (Trivia: The theme song originally contained a line referring to Cleveland’s “happy black-guy face,” but this was replaced with “happy mustached face” to make the song more racially sensitive.[8])

They actually changed the song to an animated Blaxploitation sitcom to be more “racially sensitive”.  Amazing.  Even if by some miracle this show does not get canceled, its fans can feel dead on the inside knowing that they kept a humorless husk plodding along.

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Follow-up Piece: Are Women better than Men? Ask…. um… this person.

THIS JUST IN

While searching for a good photo of Dick Masterson – Professional Chauvinist to tack onto my previous article, I came across what is apparently (and was inevitably) a site designed to “fight back” against www.menarebetterthanwomen.com.  What is the name of this counter-site you ask?  Well duh.  It’s http://womenrbetterthanmen.wordpress.com/.  Now ignoring the fact that the grammar in the URL is fucked, the basic concept of a retaliatory project designed (presumably) by a female sounded interesting, so I gave it a quick once over.  I wish I hadn’t.

First off, this is, in fact, not a good idea on any level.  Reasons for that being:

  • The term “Don’t feed the trolls” applies to the original message from Mr. Masterson, and if you were trying to prove that women react angrily and predictably to his kind of rampant jackass behavior, then jacktheterrier (the author of the blog) has succeeded.
  • The intelligence level of the author in question is most certainly not that of a person that either gender would want representing them.  For example, the list of reasons why women are better than men actually make Dick look right about what he said, including moronic statements that only gel with his theories such as:

9th. Men are sugar daddy’s, ATMs, cash machines, piggy banks, bank accounts and so forth

1st. We don’t pay for sex, you do (and we’ll never have to) (editors note: the definition of a WHORE is a woman who fucks for money)

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The Many Faces of Keith Olbermann

You probably know Keith Olbermann, even if you don’t recognize his name off-hand.  Mr. O is the cocky mouthpiece of a new, neurotic generation of liberal reporting.  He gets people out of their seats for at least the time it takes for his show to be over and reality TV to start.  Why?  Because he’s “intense”.  His views are “revolutionary”.  His words are “impactful”.  And he insults Bush a lot.  Mostly it’s because he insults Bush a lot.

In truth, it’s quite obvious to the intelligent amongst us that he’s completely and utterly full of shit.  I have never seen anyone quite like Keith ‘Doberman’ Olbermann, a man so blatantly aroused at the sound of his own voice and earning megabucks to read “his” thoughts from a teleprompter, a raging boner the size of Texas rubbing against his bulging wallet, and yet he has the gaul to pretend that he gives a sideways pityfuck about any of us.  Most people don’t even notice the tell-tale signs of a bullshit artist, but don’t worry.  This might help.  I’ve collected a series of screenshots from a single Olbermann video reposted on Youtube from yesterday along with a few captions of what I think ole Keith is really saying.

The Many Faces of Keith Olbermann:


There's nothing I despise more than people who aren't me.

There's nothing I despise more than people who aren't me.


Say, here’s a great intro.  Not that he doesn’t look like this throughout the vast majority of everything he’s ever done, but bear in mind, this was capped in the first 4 seconds of content… a facial expression that I would literally consider punching any human being that looked at me in such a way with in real life.  Everything about his face says contempt, not passion.  People who talk to you through cocked eyebrows probably don’t care about you, not that I’m listing this as a personal fault of his since I hate most of you too.. but I’m not saying I do on national television.

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Jam Box

Consider This

I’m afraid of losing my obscurity. Genuineness only thrives in the dark. Like celery. — Aldous Huxley, Those Barren Leaves (1925)