Monthly Archives: June 2009

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June 26, 2009

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Criminology and Law, Death and Morbidity, Politics and Sociology

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Tales From The Slab

Breaking news: Michael Jackson is still dead. We’re all freaked out at losing one of the giant icons of the music industry, and one of the very few superstars in the world who actually justified the use of the term “superstar.” Hint: if you won last season’s American Idol, you ARE NOT a superstar, not matter what Ryan Seacrest’s hyperbole tells you. Jackson was an ubiquitous pop culture icon all my life, and it will be weird living in a world where he isn’t around making the world weirder.

The toxicology results are still weeks away, but the autopsy is complete and, as promised, it was a real show-stopper. I called in some favours and got the scoop on the most shocking revelations from the coroner’s report. The bullet points are as follows:

* Malformed conjoined fetus discovered in abdomen indicates that they were really The Jackson Six back in the ’70s.

* Wasn’t a real zombie for the Thriller album, but had been the genuine article since Bad.

* Surgical mask was actually a retractable third eyelid.

* Face was a removable façade worn on a timeshare deal with La Toya.

* 8.75% not of this Earth.

* Navel transplanted to form chin cleft.

* First nose inverted and reattached to form the lining of his mangina.

* Extra nipples plentiful, but original two inexplicably missing.

* Bone structure was actually that of Joseph Merrick.

* Sex: male.

Fascinating revelations all. Some surprising, some fairly obvious, but all destined to become the stuff of medical journal legend.

On the brighter side of things, judging from the reduced amount of news media coverage, Iran’s problems have ceased to exist. Hurray! Good job, Iran! I knew you could sort it all out on your own.

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June 25, 2009

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Film and Television, Politics and Sociology

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Critical Mass

I’m supposed to be working on the first draft of Sex Tape right now. The deadline is less than a week away. But it’s hot and unpleasant out, I don’t really feel like tying plot threads together, and the news cycle has just reached critical mass. I can’t take it anymore, and I must invoke my right to an intermission long enough to comment.

In brief:

Michael Jackson

This will be the most interesting autopsy of the century.

Farrah Fawcett

Okay, I admit it. I had that poster too.

Richard Nixon

Who can ever get enough of Nixon’s unreleased audio tapes? Man, that guy recorded everything. There are probably another twenty hours of bathroom flatulence carefully numbered and catalogued and yet to enter the public record as The White House Toilet Tapes. If you missed the latest ones, they include snippets of conversation featuring Tricky Dick telling his wife about a breakthrough in diplomatic talks with China, discussing going out to dinner with his daughter, and advocating abortion in the case of interracial pregnancy.

It really humanizes him.

Perez Hilton

Let me personally thank you for the greatest tearful video blog since the “Leave Britney Alone!” guy squeezed off a few to establish himself as the Alpha drama-queen of the new millennium. Perez managed to work himself up into a frenzy following some fisticuffs with the Black Eyed Peas in Toronto this week. Don’t worry though. Perez, despite an overacted performance of Shatneresque proportions, seems to be just fine. Which is the part I don’t understand.

You get into an altercation with an entire hip-hop band, and this is what you walk away with? A little boo-boo? I’ve done worse things to myself shaving. If you’re going to rant about a beat-down and press charges, you’d better look at least half as bad as Rihanna.

Come on celebrities of the 21st century! Learn how to mix it up. If this had been Sinatra, you’d all be dead.

Mahmoud Ahmadinejad

If you’re going to fake election results, do it plausibly. Don’t overplay your hand and go for an ego-enhancing landslide victory. No one will buy it. Here are half-a-dozen handy tips to help you know when you’re taking your fake election a little too far.

1. If results show your challenger failed to carry his own home town.

2. If there’s more than a 100% voter turn-out in some regions.

3. If there’s a giant nation-wide protest despite your supposed 60% support.

4. If you have to shoot and beat huge numbers of people who supposedly back your government just to maintain order.

5. If your media outlets have to stop covering the election in favour of cooking shows and medical documentaries.

6. If your attempt to pin unrest on western influence falls flat even in the middle east.

Despotic pseudo-democracies of the world take note. I’m looking at you too, America. Obama’s election still doesn’t erase the 2000 presidential clusterfuck.

The Jon and Kate divorce

Um, yeah. Actually, I don’t even know who the hell these people are and I don’t want to.

Moving on.

James von Brunn

If you’re going to go out in a blaze of anti-Semitic glory and shoot up a Holocaust museum, you might want to scrub your hard drive of all the kiddie porn you have stashed there first. Because, guess what, the police are going to swing by your house after your killing spree and check out what you have on your home computer. Now, I know, you figured everyone was going to despise you anyway for being such a hate-mongering murderous Nazi dick, but as it turns out, it actually IS possible for us to think even less of you. Go figure.

Kim Jong-il

Congratulations on naming your least-embarrassing son your successor as the North Korean head of state. One tip though. When seeking a smooth transition of power, do not start a nuclear war. In fact, starting any war at a moment like this is probably a bad idea. A threat of war doesn’t play much better either.

I know you like a parade. Everybody likes a parade. But when you’re rattling your sabre, don’t do the whole gigantic army-parade thing. I know it looks really impressive to have all your troops marching down main street in lock-step formation. But it makes a really tempting target. Every time we see that in the west, we don’t think “Wow, I’m so intimidated.” We think more along the lines of, “One napalm fly-by and that war’s over before it even starts.”

It’s a point of strategy. Read The Art of War. It’s probably covered in there somewhere.

Mark Sanford

Argentina is a long way to go for a booty call. Look, I get it, I’m a guy. Sometimes you’re so damn horny, flying to Argentina to get your knob polished sounds like a good idea. If you gotta do it, you gotta do it. When you don’t gotta do it, is when you’re the governor of a whole state and will be instantly missed by your staff, your wife, your family, the entire population of South Carolina, and the national news media.

Also not a super idea: going on an out-of-country booty call with public funds.

But best of luck with that presidential run in 2012 just the same!

Okay, I got that off my chest. Now back to work on my dirty movie. 105 pages and counting.

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June 5, 2009

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Criminology and Law, Death and Morbidity, Film and Television, Politics and Sociology

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Ill Bill

If you’ve read more than, say, three of my blog entries, then you’ll know I’m morbidly obsessed with celebrity deaths. So waking up yesterday morning, there was a special treat waiting for me on the CNN ticker. CNN, of course, considers itself far too classy to name the cause of death in this case. For that, I had to go searching the internet rumor mill. And I could scarcely believe what the early reports were claiming. Ever since the day Elvis was found dead on the toilet, I’ve been waiting for a major celebrity to find a way to depart this Earth in a more embarrassing way. And at last, pay dirt.

Somewhere out there, there has be somebody who put down David Carradine/Thailand/autoerotic asphyxiation on their celebrity dead pool and just hit the trifecta jackpot.

Now, it’s not like autoerotic asphyxiation is all that uncommon. Any coroner will tell you it happens all the time. But most people only know it as the ultimate fate of Fox Mulder. Fictional characters aside, this cause of death is frequently swept under the rug, even in official reports. Authorities often find it easier and less-shameful to label it suicide, figuring they’re sparing the deceased and their family the embarrassment of calling it what it is: death by tragic masturbation accident.

But for the first time ever, some respectable media outlets were quick to bluntly state the facts. That pleasantly surprised me, because I’m not a fan of euphemisms. Many called it as they saw it and drew the obvious conclusions from the circumstances surrounding Caradine’s death. Others, not so much. My favourites are the ones that referred to the rope found around his “neck and body.” For “body” read “penis.” Creepy as it may be to picture a 72-year-old man pleasuring himself with a combination of asphyxia and masturbation in a Thailand hotel closet, the dodging of the facts that’s been going on in some corners has only served to raise all sorts of unfounded questions concerning suicide or foul play. And I don’t know what’s accomplished by that, other than creating a completely unnecessary mystery over something that’s merely a tad tawdry.

Personally, I’ve only been left with one real question. Who the hell goes to Thailand to masturbate? You go to Thailand for the underage prostitutes. And if you really really need to get in a bit of autoerotic asphyxiation to relieve the monotony of sex with children, then you pay one of the underaged prostitutes a couple of bucks to keep an eye on you in case you start to choke.

Okay, fine. Carradine was in Thailand shooting a movie. It’s not like he was an Australian on a sex holiday or something. But you see how easy it is to start speculating a lot of weirdness when there are inconsistent reports in the media? I’ll swear here and now to knock that shit off. Let David’s memory only be tainted by the compromising position his body was found in, not by the innuendo and misleading statements of asshole bloggers. Or cable news channels.