“See you this weekend. Until then, stop being a depressing fuck and cheer the hell up. Otherwise I’ll slip a Prozac into your penguin mug when you’re not looking. Kisses!”
—Rafaela
February 2011
Maybe the real problem is that now when I get into existential crisis mode, I decide to self-medicate with illicit substances and Diet Cherry Pepsi and the Internet, where I used to read and write to soothe the demons.
Today's special at Cafe Chris:
Freshly caught white boy depression, drizzled in a light cynicism sauce.
With a large slice of sarcasm on the side.
Sorrow
The National
Sorrow by The National
Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want
The Smiths
Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want by The Smiths
“Don’t be afraid to be a fool. Remember, you cannot be both young and wise. Young people who pretend to be wise to the ways of the world are mostly just cynics. Cynicism masquerades as wisdom, but it is the farthest thing from it. Because cynics don’t learn anything. Because cynicism is a self-imposed blindness, a rejection of the world because we are afraid it will hurt us or disappoint us. Cynics always say no. But saying yes begins things. Saying yes is how things grow. Saying yes leads to knowledge. “Yes” is for young people. So for as long as you have the strength to, say yes.”
—Steven Colbert
“When I put my hands on your body on your flesh I feel the history of that body. Not just the beginning of its forming in that distant lake but all the way beyond its ending. I feel the warmth and texture and simultaneously I see the flesh unwrap from the layers of fat and disappear. I see the fat disappear from the muscle. I see the muscle disappearing from around the organs and detaching itself from the bones. I see the organs gradually fade into transparency leaving a gloaming skeleton gleaming like ivory that slowly revolves until it becomes dust. I am consumed in the sense of your weight the way your flesh occupies momentary space the fullness of it beneath my palms. I am amazed at how perfectly your body fits to the curves of my hands. If I could attach our blood vessels so we could become each other I would. If I could attach our blood vessels in order to anchor you to the earth to this present time to me I would. If I could open up your body and slip inside your skin and look out your eyes and forever have my lips fused with yours I would. It makes me weep to feel the history of your flesh beneath my hands in a time of so much loss. It makes me weep to feel the movement of your flesh beneath my palms as you twist and turn over to one side to create a series of gestures to reach up around my neck to draw me nearer. All these memories will be lost in time like tears in the rain.”
—David Wonjanrowicz
“What froze me was the fact that I had absolutely no reason to move in any direction. What had made me move through so many dead and pointless years was curiosity. Now even that flickered out”
—Kurt Vonnegut
January 2011
If you still don't really understand what's going on in Egypt... →
motherjones.com
…here’s something that’ll help you out.
Remember, kids, the internet is more than pornography and memes. Make sure you stay informed about the world around you.
LCD_SOUNDSYSTEM_All_My_Friends_KCRW
LCD Soundsystem
All My Friends (Live on KCRW) by LCD Soundsystem
When I Go Deaf
Low
When I Go Deaf by Low
“I want men to admire me, but that’s a trick you learn at school—a movement of the eyes, a tone of voice, a touch of the hand on the shoulder or the head. If they think you admire them, they will admire you because of your good taste, and when they admire you, you have an illusion for a moment that there’s something to admire.”
—The End of the Affair by Graham Greene
“Yes, alone we are, deeply alone, and always, in store for us, a layer of loneliness even deeper. There is nothing we can do to dispose of that. No, loneliness shouldn’t surprise us, as astonishing to experience as it may be. You can try yourself inside out, but all you are then is inside out and lonely instead of inside in and lonely. My stupid, stupid Merry dear, stupider even that your stupid father, not even blowing up buildings helps. It’s lonely if there are buildings and it’s lonely if there are buildings and it’s lonely if there are no buildings. There is no protest to be lodged against loneliness not all the bombing campaigns in history have made a dent in it. The most lethal of man made explosives can’t touch it. Stand in awe not of Communism, my idiot child, but of ordinary, everyday loneliness.”
—American Pastoral by Philip Roth
“We live our lives in anticipation of the next hit of experience as if the one that’s coming will finally do it for us. What’s so strange is that nothing up ‘til now has brought that sense of real completion or fulfillment. So why are we so seduced into thinking that the next one will?”
—Joseph Goldstein
I refuse to indulge the idea that today will be anything less than wonderful.
New Rule: Americans Must Realize What Makes NFL Football So Great: Socialism →
huffingtonpost.com
Bill Maher:
It’s no surprise that some 100 million Americans will watch the Super Bowl next week - that’s 40 million more than go to church on Christmas - suck on that, Jesus! It’s also 85 million more than watched the last game of the World Series, and in that is an economic lesson for America. Because football is built on an economic model of fairness and opportunity, and baseball is built on a model where the rich almost always win and the poor usually have no chance. The World Series is like Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. You have to be a rich bitch just to play. The Super Bowl is like Tila Tequila. Anyone can get in.
Or to put it another way, football is more like the Democratic philosophy. Democrats don’t want to eliminate capitalism or competition, but they’d like it if some kids didn’t have to go to a crummy school in a rotten neighborhood while others get to go to a great school and their Dad gets them into Harvard. Because when that happens “achieving the American dream” is easy for some, and just a fantasy for others.
That’s why the NFL runs itself in a way that would fit nicely on Glenn Beck’s chalkboard - they literally share the wealth, through salary caps and revenue sharing - TV is their biggest source of revenue, and they put all of it in a big commie pot and split it 32 ways. Because they don’t want anyone to fall too far behind. That’s why the team that wins the Super Bowl picks last in the next draft. Or what the Republicans would call “punishing success.”
Baseball, on the other hand, is exactly like the Republicans, and I don’t just mean it’s incredibly boring. I mean their economic theory is every man for himself. The small market Pittsburgh Steelers go to the Super Bowl more than anybody - but the Pittsburgh Pirates? Levi Johnston has sperm that will not grow up and live long enough to see the Pirates in a World Series. Their payroll is about $40 million, and the Yankees is $206 million. They have about as much chance at getting in the playoffs as a poor black teenager from Newark has of becoming the CEO of Halliburton. That’s why people stop going to Pirate games in May, because if you’re not in the game, you become indifferent to the fate of the game, and maybe even get bitter - that’s what’s happening to the middle class in America. It’s also how Marie Antoinette lost her head.
Quality
Chris: I just posted a quote that you said.
Me: Thanks! Would it be conceited to reblog it?
Chris: Nah. I do it all the time. Though my blog isn’t as “koala tea” as yours.
Me: What does “Koala..
Me: I got it. I literally just got it as I was typing.That link is my quote anyway because there is nothing koala tea about this blog.
I’m reblogging a run-of-the-mill conversation I had with Ellie, just to prove to her that it is okay.
Also, yeah, I did say “koala tea”. I’ve been pulled into the dark side of the Tumblr subculture.
“If I can put up with your shit, the least you can do is bask in my glory.”
—Ellie McElvain, dropping life mottos all over the place.
Depressive realism →
en.wikipedia.org
Depressive realism is the proposition that people with depression actually have a more accurate perception of reality, specifically that they are less affected by positive illusions of illusory superiority, the illusion of control and optimism bias. The concept refers to people with borderline or moderate depression, suggesting that while non-depressed people see things in an overly positive light and severely depressed people see things in overly negative light, the mildly discontented gray area in between in fact reflects the most accurate perception of reality.
“I don’t want to repeat my innocence. I want the pleasure of losing it again.”
—F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise
“There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy, and the tired.”
—F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
Terrible Love
The National
Terrible Love by The National
I Love How You Love Me
Jeff Mangum
I Love How You Love Me by Jeff Mangum
Originally by Paris Sisters
Footshooter
Frightened Rabbit
Footshooter by Frightened Rabbit
Listen
Ambling Alp by Yeasayer
“Art is a kind of innate drive that seizes a human being and makes him its instrument. To perform this difficult office it is sometimes necessary for him to sacrifice happiness and everything that makes life worth living for the ordinary human being.”
—Carl Jung
“If you’re looking for sympathy you’ll find it between shit and syphilis in the dictionary.”
—David Sedaris
The first law of thermodynamics is you do not talk about thermodynamics.
The second law of thermodynamics is you DO NOT TALK ABOUT THERMODYNAMICS.
The third law of thermodynamics is something to do with entropy or something.
Mix tapes would be so much easier to make if I could just give someone a copy of Midnight Organ Fight by Frightened Rabbit.
But noooooo, that “doesn’t count”.
Whatever. Your loss.
Dear body wash,
Look, I know it’s asking a lot, but I was wondering if there was any way that you could be warmer when you come out of the bottle? I just spent half an hour carefully twisting the knob on the shower to get the water at the perfect temperature (hot, but not too hot), and then you come along and you are practically frozen. It’s like I’m rubbing polar bear semen onto me.
Step it up.
Love, Chris.
CHRIS. This is “Intoxicated Cooking with Chris Rife”. I’m your host, Chris Rife.
(Applause)
Thank you, thank you. Now today on our show we have a classic meal for all your hungry substance abusers out there: the grilled cheese!
(Uproarious applause)
It’s one of my personal favorites. Now, I was inspired by watching an episode of Archer, where Archer asks his mother to make him a grilled cheese. And I thought, wow, that would be great! So here’s what you do to go about making your very own.
(CHRIS walks over to a dirty George Forman Grille)
First of all, start heating up your George Forman Grille. Don’t bother cleaning it, you’ll only burn your arm. I should know.
(CHRIS shows his arm to the camera. It is covered in black grill lines.)
I don’t complain too much about it, though. Makes me look like a Zebra. The ladies gets a kick out of it, too.
(Audience laughs. It is obvious canned laughter.)
After you start heating up your filthy grill, start on making the sandwich. Grab whatever bread you find lying around. Normally, if you were sober, you’d choose the healthiest bread you kind. Some sort of multi-grain or whole wheat. But now that you’re intoxicated, any old thing will do. I grabbed a months old piece of pita bread and tore it in two. Now, it’s time for the all important cheese. Root around in your fridge. Consider taking one of your roommates’ full slices of provolone, but then realize the last time someone took someone else’s food, Dennis had to write “No!” in red sharpie on all of his eggs. Settle for the shredded cheese you have leftover. Sprinkle that haphazardly on top of the shredded pita, and smush it down with the other piece of pita bread. For flavoring, you can spill your rum and Diet Pepsi all over the bread.
(CHRIS takes a tumbler of rum and Diet Pepsi and sloshes the drink over the side, so it dribbles all over the sandwich.)
It gives it a little kick. Now that your grill is all heated up, take care not to burn yourself as you-
(CHRIS burns himself.)
Motherfucker! Ah! Shit! Not again. Ah. Now, get out oven mitts because you think making a sandwich is dangerous. Press down on the top part of the grill, and smuggly think to yourself that you are a top-notch chef. If you should start to smell something burning, you probably forgot to spray any cooking oil on the grill. I’ve done the same to give it that authentic drunk college student taste.
(CHRIS picks up the sandwich right off the grill and puts it on a plate, burning his fingers in the process.)
Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Now, on the side of your sandwich, you’ll want something completely unrelated in tastes to your grilled cheese. I suggest nutella, because all intoxicated people love nutella.
(CHRIS spoons nutella onto the plate with the grilled cheese)
Just dab a whole lot on the side there - and there’s your perfect dipping sauce. Now go sit down and watch the new 30 Rock you DVRed, and regret eating this in the morning!
(We pan across audience, close up on a few audience members smearing greasy grilled cheese and nutella all over their mouths.)
That’s all for this edition of “Intoxicated Cooking with Chris Rife”. I’m your host Chris Rife. Join us next time for Burnt Store-Brand Pizza bagels! Take it easy!
The mix is in progress.
It looks like it’s going to be a very spacey, dream pop sounding mix, with a few acoustic gems thrown in there for good measure. Got some Polyphonic Spree, Spiritualized, Suckers, Frightened Rabbit, Mercury Rev, Television, Yo La Tengo…a pretty good sampling of the non-soul stuff I’ve been listening to lately.
Start getting excited.
Love many, trust few.
Favorite Pokemon, least favorite Pokemon, and Pokemon you relate with the most. GO!
We’re talking first two generations, right? Right.
Favorite: Poliwhirl.
Least favorite: Delibird. A bullshit King Dedede knock off.
Relate-able: Drowzee.
