Eloquent Eloquence: Chekhov's Meth Lab, Indeed
Eloquent Eloquence is a compilation of the ten best comments of the week. Comments in reviews are not eligible for inclusion.The Spambot of the Week goes to Culture Project for an appealingly minimalist effort which also describes Jason Statham’s torso: Attractive section of content
There is a link in the commenter’s name that will take you to the original post.
The This Thread Was Everything Pajiba All at Once Comment of the Week goes to BWeaves for covering two bases with one glove:
How the hell do you adjust a dragonhoard from Middle Earth for inflation?
And where’s Mr. Darcy in all of this? He has 10,000 a year, I’m told. Adjust that for inflation and add in Pemberly as an asset.
The I Was Born Ready Comment of the Week goes to The Kilted Yaksman for his crackerjack timing:
None of these pansies is man enough to carry Jack Burton’s belt buckle.
The It’s Funny Because It’s True Comment of the Week goes to SBrown for saying what we all think, except the part about actually watching “Full House”:
Nobody forgets Alanis Morissette and Dave Coulier. Not once you learn “You Oughta Know” is about him. And then you think of him whenever she sings “Would she go down on you in a theater?” and all your memories of “Full House” get muddled with porn.
The Pajibanyms Are Fun Comment of the Week goes to superasente for being, well, just SUPER!:
They are so fucked. Even the Environmental Protection Agency is gunning for them.
The Are You Talkin’ to Me? Comment of the Week goes to Yossarian for a deft slam:
I’m confused… what matchmaking website is Sara trying to get us to go to?
The She’s Right About Being Heavily Medicated Comment of the Week goes to lawyergirl06 for a truly eloquent contribution. Also, she uses the word “razzlesnatch”:
Ok, I could be totally and way off base here, but reading your article, it just made the answer so simple. Which probably means that its wrong, but here goes.
In the 80s and early 90s you really couldn’t be rabidly and earnestly obsessed to the degree of ridiculousness you can now. I remember when I was in college and was one of the few people I knew that had a car on campus. My friends HATED that they had to wait to go to the kegger until after 10:00 because holy shit, Millenium was on and I was not going to miss an episode. So they sat on their hands and waited. We didn’t have TiVo and barely had internet, and certainly didn’t have the chance to watch Hulu or anything else. If you missed an episode you had to wait for the fucking reruns (6 months later) if the show had reruns (Millenium did not). So when you watched a show, and I mean really watched a show you were totally committed to it, like a part time job. And unless you were a borderline sociopath who never left your dorm room, you were limited in the number of shows you could watch and obsess over.
Now, and believe me I feel old even talking about this, you can just get Netflix and watch 8 seasons of Trailer Park Boys in a weekend if you want. You can get Hulu and watch the newest episode of the 27 shows that you are obsessed with. There’s no filter for shit because we are inundated with it. In the 90’s you had to be selective because you only had so much time. Now you can watch anything and everything and convince yourself that it’s all good because it’s always accessible.
Movies: I think some of it has to do with the fact that we have so much more information, streaming constantly, about the actors and their personal lives. I know we had gossip rags and Teen Beat back in the day, but honestly, we didn’t have the 24 hour barrage of shit that is spoonfed to us now about who is sleeping with whom and where Snookie got her razzlesnatch carpet bombed. And somehow, this over the top presentation of information seems to make us think we are closer to these people. Like Brangelina just left my house from tea so don’t be all up in their grill about Mr. & Mrs. Smith. Additionally, I think in the past, we didn’t have the large number of reviews and online posters telling us that our taste in movies was shit. Hell I knew What Women Want sucked ass, and didn’t need anyone else to tell me that, but in polite conversation I didn’t need to shove that down my co-worker’s throat either. And believe me there are some people out there who are still blissfully ignorant about the crappiness in movies and tv shows, because they watch it for entertainment value, not for content. I used to be one of those people and damn how I miss those days.
I think what it all actually comes down to is the same reason we all watch shit reality shows, even horrifying ones, and salivate over the juiciness of the absolute trailer park antics that go on. It’s the reason we watch intervention and hoarders. It’s the reason that we call people “reality stars” and comment at length on sites like Pajiba. Because here’s the thing, we all want to believe we are important, relevant, intellectual, intelligent and just a little better than the guy we are sitting next to on public transit. We crave it, we desire it, and we thrive on it. Notability is this decades crack cocaine, even if that notability is a witty facebook status, or raising the ire of an equally anonymous poster on a movie review website. As long as we are notable to someone, anyone, even a stranger, we are not invisible, and who wants to be invisible. It could be said about each and every person, governmental agency, tv personality, reality show participant and even the homeless guy who talks to sidewalk cracks. We all want to be acknowledged and noted, by someone for some reason.
And we all need to be heavily medicated. Of that I am certain.
The Your Sample T-Shirt Is in the Mail Comment of the Week goes to csb for reminding us we’ll be in good company:
Hell is other atheists.
The Apocalyptic Scenarios Don’t Have to Be a Downer Comment of the Week goes to linny because now we all want to hang out with her friends:
My friends and I were talking about what we would do if we woke up and everyone else had died around us. Everyone. Which would reasonably be a sign that we were alone for the rest of our existence.
I said I would probably teach myself how to fly, and travel the world over to see if I could find anyone else, because probabilities would say that at least one other person would also have survived.
My friend Chris said he’d spend his time blowing things up, and preserving the dead people so he could make meat-puppets out of them to have some company. (Basically, he claimed he’d go mad with loneliness.)
Jonathan said he’d find a sandy beach with fruit and just hang.
Tina said she would find a really nice car and just drive.
Kristy came up with my favorite outcome. According to her, the first thing she’d do would be to run over to the nearest sperm bank and make sure the samples were still good, and set up a generator to keep everything frozen. Then, she’d pursue an active breeding program where she’d impregnate herself as regularly as possible with a variety of sperm from the sperm bank for maximal genetic diversity. She’d set up a series of rules where her offspring would be limited so that for the first several generations, they could also only use the sperm bank for giving birth rather than natural procreation in order to further prevent a shallow pool — going so far as to demand that all boys be immediately snipped, and make sure that the girls had as many babies as they could as soon as they could. She’d set out these rules in a book so that future generations could sort out when they’d be able to procreate naturally, and with whom, and make it into a religion so that her children would be sure to follow the rules out of duty, fear, and obligation.
She said that with this plan, she would then become the mother of the entire remaining human race, and found a new religion called Kristyanity.
This was all thought up on the spur of the moment, without prompting.
…And that’s why Kristy is one of my dearest friends.
The Brevity Is the Soul of Wit Comment of the Week goes to SaBrina’s for four wry words:
Chekhov’s meth lab, indeed.
The Comment of the Week Comment of the Week goes to pissant. Dustin has started the bidding at $5. Do I hear 6?:
I have an announcement:
I, pissant, micro-celebrity of Pajiba, am auctioning off the “Website:” box I leave blank every time I post on Pajiba. Hell, I’ll even throw in the “Email:” box since I always fill it with a bullshit address*. A winning bid gets you one full month (discount for non-leap-year Februarys) of having whatever text you’d like associated with me every time I post. Why should you go with me? Take a look at my list of accolades:
- Righteous indignation
- Prolific posting on non-review posts about how Pajiba is losing focus
- Listed on EE at least twice or something
- Listed on “Most Pain-In-the-Ass Commenters” post
- Pissed off Dustin enough that he has actually responded to my comments with that thing where he edits your comment and adds his italicized response at the bottom (always found that strange)
I have a crack team of one and I no how to get noticed. Strategies include:
- Playing Devil’s Advocate
- Ranting about when it is OK to talk about how attractive a young girl/woman is
- Making grammatical mistakes in a comment about the articles author making grammatical mistakes
How’s your blog following? Are your tweets not getting retweeted with the frequency they deserve? Imagine your message written in the hypertext link contained within my name whenever I post on Pajiba.
We’ll start the bidding at one American dollar…
* - Of course, no one on the website will see whatever you choose to put in the “Email:” box, but I bet the site admins can see it…and I suspect they follow my comments p-retty closely.
(This comment was very much appreciated. Also, hilarious. I bid $5 on behalf of sugarmommylove.com— DR)
The Lobotomist by Jack El-Hai |
Edvard Munch's Scream and the Competitive Thrill of Auction Bidding