Ad blocker interference detected!
Wikia is a free-to-use site that makes money from advertising. We have a modified experience for viewers using ad blockers
Wikia is not accessible if you’ve made further modifications. Remove the custom ad blocker rule(s) and the page will load as expected.
From his blog Edit
- Yeah, but what should you have done? What should you be doing? What will you find you should have done tomorrow? You're giving away wisdom, but the rest of us don't deserve your level of satisfaction until we learn to create it for ourselves. You "should" be the one benefitting from your judgment.
- I gotta tell you, and don't get all fucking serious about it, I don't want to hear your bullshit, just shut the fuck up and let the expressive guy express: I am a very happy dude, with a perfect life, but the first time I get sick, I'm out; I'm killing myself.
- Anybody that attempts to take control over another human, be it with bombs, bullets, hijackings, speeches, wars, clucking tongues, guilt or rules, is not someone I can ever trust, and nobody I mistrust will ever change me.
- I pulled the plug on society a long time ago, and it kept going without me, at which point I realized society was the hero and I had been the villain.
- That's why I wrote to you, not to tell you to change anything about the way you do things, but just to tell you to take it easy. Nothing you do matters as much as you think. Your greatest achievements aren't yours at all, they're accidents and jokes. You're a puppet, the universe does the work, and it gets the most done when you're moving the least. Surrender, flow, relax. Don't be hard on yourself, don't put pressure on yourself, life is just a chain of experiments and results, and you'll be perfect when you're dead.
- If you want to know where I stand politically, don't listen to where I stand, look where I'm standing. In a nice apartment. Minding my own business. Bumper stickers aside, our behavior would seem to indicate that in America, we're unanimously opposed to our own discomfort.
- The danger of empowering words is that words are insubstantial, so when you give them your power, your power hits the floor. It was your power, given you by nature, you're supposed to use it to be who you are, but instead, you become an empty shell and your power gets snatched up by the people that can never have enough. Vampires. Control freaks. Party poopers. Liars. Rule makers. Politicians. Con artists. Thieves. Presidents and terrorists. And that's whose side we're on every moment we believe in sides. That's what a bad guy is, it's a guy that believes in bad. Bad doesn't care if we're bashing gays or bashing rednecks, it just wants us bashing. It also wants us fighting, controlling, fearing, stifling, labeling, warning, forbidding, shaming, censoring, and anything else we do in the name of fighting bad. Because when we fight bad, we believe in bad, and bad lives on.
- I had to get money from the store to pay her, so I did something I never do, I bought medicine. It doesn't help your body fight anything, it just numbs you and makes everything worse. I bought a box of something called Cepacol and it literally says "maximum numbing" on it. Maximum numbing? You assholes. When I try to "maximize my numbing" with vodka, you call me "sick." You people have never been healthy. Why don't you talk to me some more about how you don't smoke pot or drink beer because of your parents, you gross fucking dumb ass insects. What about the "abusive father" we all share called the cocksucking government, maybe we could all rebel against that, you fucking nervous, untalented, coffee slurping, pill popping, nectar sucking drones? Why don't you give me some more fitness tips while you change the flickering bulbs in the cement tunnels of your fucking hive. Dipshits. There's a plant that GROWS OUT OF THE GROUND that's ILLEGAL and there's shit sitting next to the Fruity Pebbles that people can use to commit suicide because there's so much poison in it you can't make it without a fucking computer, but you take it in small enough doses to numb the symptoms of your malnutrition so you can get back to work shuffling money around for a fucking police state. You're all a bunch of phony fucking suckers. Oh, peace, groovey, I'm like, totally groovey eating my egg whites, I'm not a fucking robot ant or anything, I'm, like, totally human, cuz, like, look at my hair. And my shirt. Fuck you. FUCK YOU. You're a buzz cut and a jumpsuit away from THX 11 fucking 38. Just because Orwell didn't bother to predict that some of the prolies might wear Van Halen tee shirts doesn't make this NOT 1984.
- Am I manic depressive? Is that really what this is? I know there's something wrong with me, is it really that simple? Am I just another fucking manic depressive? I'm sorry, bipolar. Let's look this up. Okey, dokey, reading reading reading. Eh. They're just describing everyone. These psychological disorders are like horoscopes. The one thing they don't have a diagnosis for is the syndrome where you feel compelled to categorize all human states into a handful of disorders and suffer the delusion that there's such a thing as a normal human being. I call it "psychological professional disorder." Fuck those guys. Last month, I thought I had a Christ complex. But then I realized, it's not a complex, it's an awareness.
- Seriously, though, please remember Dr. King's sacrifice this Monday, and remember that he didn't die just so your weekend could be longer. He died so that no matter what your race, religion or orientation, you would think twice about fucking with the government.
- Self respecting women? Not a huge slice of my pie chart. That's not a dig on a gender or the people I've dated. When's the last time any of us have ever met a self respecting person, let alone fucked them. We're all a bunch of crazy jigsaw pieces tumbling against each other and every once in a while, the contour of one person's insanity gets snared in another's. With a little luck and a lot of force, two psychos can get pretty well tangled. That's called "compatibility." And anybody whose sickness is "compatible" with mine is not going to be put off by things like this blog entry. On the contrary. They love the blood, the dirt, the parfait of arrogance and self-loathing. They figure they'd have to be all the more special to get onboard this Death Star. And you know what? That much is true.
- I live in Los Angeles. If standup is sad here, it's sad everywhere. I just got back from another parade of people in their 30s mumbling into a microphone about what a bad job the audience was doing. "Okay, I guess that one didn't go over so well." What one? Did you just tell a joke? It sounded like a rhetorical question about your hair. It sounded like you said there were "no niggers in Cloverfield." I thought it was my job to wait for the punchline, then laugh. Now I'm finding out I should just laugh because you decided you're a comic? How can your thumb fit in your mouth with your head so far up your ass? You know why most of the audience isn't laughing? The "audience" is the other 15 comics. They're going through their notepads or they're talking shit about you. Sadly, they're being funnier mumbling into their drinks about how unfunny you are than they're going to be when it's their turn on stage. Everyone in this room is here to get the attention they think they were born entitled to receive. Weird how that doesn't make a real hot night of entertainment for me, the one guy that got tricked into coming here. I leaned over to my friend during someone's act tonight and said, "I've never wanted to slash someone else's wrists before." That's how standup makes me feel. There's as much talent there as anywhere else, but the medium makes babies out of grownups. There had to be a first comedian, a guy that was the first person to pick up a microphone and try using it to make people laugh. That guy didn't have the luxury of a thing called "standup" to pretend he was pursuing. That guy just had to do it, in spite of a world saying, "why are you doing that?" His answer had to be "because I love doing it," not "because this is what people do" or "because I have five years to kill before I need to get a job or marry someone."
- ...it's just about time for the Tight Shots of Specialized Equipment Being Strapped and Buckled Montage. Time for Predator 2 to "want some candy." The Batmobile is revving. Relationship Rambo is tying that string around his head. I think that by the end of February, SOME lucky ladies can be expecting furtive reconnaissance missions to become full blown nighttime raids on their ammo dumps and command centers. Most of you won't even perceive being scoped. I do thermal scans for boyfriends from 800 yards. I write lists of how many gross, fat slobs you've dated on my arm with a magic marker. My head breaks the surface of the swamp just long enough to squint at your ass, and then, plurp! Gone, like a crocodile. Was that the wind in the palm trees? Or was it a one man strike force? Maybe you'll never find out. Maybe you won't be classified as a strategic target. Maybe you'll just hear distant popping from another village, three clicks away. Or maybe....Shhhhh.....Maybe you'll hear a twig snap. And the last thing you'll see is me charging you in my underwear with a knife in my teeth. Stay frosty.
- I just want things to stay the way they are, and since the only way to keep them the way they are until I’m 55 is to run on a treadmill and eat a sack of oats instead of chasing my burger with a ketel one and doing bits about Voltron, I’ll be very lucky to make it to 45 without some kind of medical bullshit eclipsing my carefree life. And when that happens, it’s a fucking deal breaker, that’s all I’m saying. I wasn’t born to suffer, I was born to watch Law and Order while I eat fake vegan chicken sandwiches between blogging about jerking off, getting paid to write nonsense and experimenting with pharmaceuticals.
- After three years of reading youtube comments, I found one that didn't make me want to puke and kill myself. Some kid, talking to another kid underneath a music video: "first things first buddy, no matter how hard you try i guarantee you wont change the way anyone thinks or acts." If I could put that thought in everyone's head on a loop, I could save the world. But, like the kid says, I can't.
- Because I'm a good person, God gave me the power to make anything true that I want to be true. And if I abuse that power, by making untrue things true, he will take it away, because bad people can't have that power. Which is how I know I'm good, because I have that power. And I keep it by only using it to make good people feel good. Which is as easy as doing nothing because they're already good people. And bad people want me to make them feel good, which is how I know they're bad, and why I can't do it. It would be a lie. If you say, for instance, "I need a hug," you don't deserve one, and giving you one would make me as bad a person as you. I have to find people that don't need hugs, and hug them, in order to stay someone whose hugs have any value.
- Before I moved to L.A., this lawyer that Rob was using for his comic book company told me he knew Conan O' Brian's manager, and I really wanted to be a writer, so I gave him a booklet of "sample sketches" for the Conan O' Brian show. In one of them, I totally ripped off South Park without remembering. Another one was about an alien guest that shockingly turned out to be obnoxious...a third one was a paperboy guest that shockingly turned out to be obnoxious, and the last one was a film student guest, who was comedically obnoxious. I printed these sketches on really nice, thick, marbled paper- because I wanted to make it clear that I was a professional writer- handed off a couple of copies, and waited for the phone to ring.
- I feel bad about this enormous mountain of self expression. I can't imagine how angry you must be when you pull up to it in your empty pick up truck and see how many meaningless chunks of me you'll have to toss over you shoulder before you find anything that reflects enough of your special face. Here, let me give you a break. Here's a shiny gem about you: I think you're stupid, selfish, and untalented. Here, let me help you load that into your truck you vacuous piece of shit. Actually why don't I ride with you so I can help you get this onto your identity pile. It can be pretty heavy to realize that I perceive you as a wimpy empty self important bore. Is this your pile here? Wow, impressive. Man, you sure have a lot of stuff from other people on here. No, no, that's not a judgment although I suppose if it was it'd go right on this pile. Alright, lets get this big mother off your truck. Man I really let you have it with this one, you parasite.This is bigger than anything you've already got. Now, I'm required to say this just as a formality: you do realize this giant jewel you got from Mt. Harmon, while inspired by you and reflective of you, is not you and that it's value as a piece of expression is not value that can be directly attributed to you but is in fact the direct result of Dan Harmon's tendency to make things interesting. Okay, good.
You know, as long as I'm here, do you mind if I take a lot at who you are? I wouldn't mind getting underneath a lot of this stuff. Could we do a little experiment here? We can put everything back the way it was when we found it as soon as I'm done, but I was just want to try something. Could we please remove everything from your identity that is the result of someone else saying something about you? Whoa, whoa, easy, I'm not doing anything permanent; we're gonna put it all back. You're gonna be who you were before I came here, I'm just going to show you something. Let's make a separate pile for all these rumors people have spread about you, and compliments and insults people have dealt you. And these horoscopes, oh- and all these personality quizzes don't count as self-expressions. People are always surprised to find that out. Applause, boos, your mother said a bunch of bullshit that cuts both ways but none of it matters. Your accountant says you're attentive, your roommate says you're a slob, someone said you were a genius. Here's some photographs- those are OF you but they aren't you. Here's a clipping from a publication- not you. And of course this giant sparkling jewel I created when I called you human garbage- not you. Next, let's set aside all the things you like. Yes, the things we like are there because of who we are but we're trying to get to the who-we-are part. We're not BBC America, sunsets, baby elephants and Converse.
Okay, if we did this right what we should have left is the stuff you've generated including anything you've expressed about yourself that hasn't been propaganda, sabotage, or lies and we call that your "actual identity". Well now, don't be ashamed just because it's not a giant pile of stuff it doesn't mean you're not a person. It's exactly fears like that that lead people overpiling with other people's stuff. You have plenty here, and once your pile is cleaner it makes it easier to make it bigger. What do we got here? You're a chocoholic? I'm sorry, that shouldn't be in here- that's just saying you like chocolate. You can't just put "aholic" after something you consume and call that an identity. Awwwww, what's this little doo-dad? Did you make this? See! There's we go! You make stuff. Everybody makes something. Lemme check it out. I won't break it, I'm very familiar with these. This is called an attention-sucker. It's designed to draw attention toward an identity pile. These are cool, can I show you something? I have to actually open this. It's okay, take it easy-- I make these things all the time. I know them inside and out. A lot of people hate these things because they draw attention to identity piles that have nothing in them but more attention suckers. But inside every single one of these lame-ass, embarrassing, derivate pieces of shit that we make is something incredible. Look here, see that? It's right at the center. That's a little baby expression. See how pretty? This expression contains something called "need". And even though no two expressions of need are the same, the need they express is universal and eternal. So much so that you can't normally see it unless it's expressed inside one of these little gems. Isn't that pretty? Look at that need, look how insanely incomplete and alone you are. It's infinite; you were born in need, and you will die in it. Some people think not only does need connect all people and all life, but that life is itself an expression of need on behalf of the physical universe, and that the physical universe is an expression of need on the behalf of the nothingness it is trying to fill. And some people actually believe that's what GOD is- the original infinite, unknowable, unfillable need. A single thought that says "Something that is not, must now be". And these people that believe these things, they say that you can atone with that god by expressing your own need by simply figuring out what it is you want, being honest with yourself about it, and then expressing it in some way- in a conversation, a joke, a movie, a stained-glass window, etc. And everything you touch grows, and everything you imagine becomes, and you get laid, and you make money, and your life is easy. And you never have to defend yourself, because everyone that means you harm bursts into flame because you're doing God's work and he doesn't want you fucked with.
Now, let's put this unintentional expression of need you made back inside this dumb thing surrounding it that wasted the world's time and lets put that back in your pile. and lets put all your bullshit back there- all your rehearsal, ambition, misdirection, self-pity, melodrama, entitlement, restraint, privacy and brazen bold-faced lies. There, you're all back to your shitty self again. With me saying you're shitty right on top like a star on a Christmas tree. You're quite welcome.
From his Twitter account. Edit
- Every once in a while, at a random moment, I remember that a doctor stuck his finger up my ass because I said I had heartburn.
- TV trivia: The creators of every 8pm show have wives and boats. Sounds distracting. Hope their scripts got finished! Community, 8, NBC.
- TV fact: I said "fast forward" by accident. Watch a show with a truly memorable title: Community is at 8 on NBC.
- Fact: David Goyer wrote "Blade." Kevin Williamson created "Dawson's Creek." I was LASER FART. Back a winning horse. Community 8 NBC
- Fact: TV vampires draw strength, youth and sexuality from the "coffin" of your DVR's hard drive. If you love them, bury them. Community8
- TV fact: We love @tvdnews, but why would you watch a vampire "live?" The CW won't cancel them before 2017. DVR them. Do Community 8 NBC.
- TV fact: Fast Forward proudly reprinted a review saying it "might be a new Lost." They want your next 10 years. I want 1 night. NBC, 8.
- TV fact: The more you watch Fast Forward, the less incentivized they are to reveal stuff. "Solve" the riddle. Watch Community at 8 on NBC
- TV fact: "Survivor" is 3 years older than the average Vampire Diaries viewer, and watching either show causes dandruff. Community, 8, NBC.
From the Channel101 forums Edit
- Jesus on roller skates. Jesus the next door neighbor. Jesus the country singer, Jesus runs an abortion clinic, Jesus is just a regular guy hanging out, Jesus in high school, yadda yadda. Jesus is an OCCASSIONALLY recurring character on a DECADE old show on Comedy Central. It's like the flat head screwdriver that comes with the comedy toolbox. If you're going to use it, use it WITH something and use it to get something done. Open a paint can, fix the screen door. Don't give me a drum roll and then show me your screwdriver
- They're fucking words. There's a war going on, children's arms and legs are getting blown off, we're paying for it, and you're offended by a fucking word. You can't use words to change people. You can't, but according to you, I can. So treat me like I have that power. Get on your fucking knees and pray to me and write me a check or I'll turn you to dust by saying the word googaboo. It's a new one, I made it up, it's the most offensive word in the world. If I say it three times, your dick falls off. Now get the fuck out of here, I don't like the way you put words together, when you type, it makes me remember getting raped in the butt at summer camp. I'm going to sue you.
- I'll write you a check for a hundred thousand dollars, and I will give you a three million dollar camera, and Tom Hanks, and you still won't be able to get into the show. Because unlike the people who can get into the show, you suck. And you and I both know that you know you suck, because if you thought you were the best, your agenda would be "let the best man win," because it would serve your interest. Instead, your agenda is "let's take turns winning, and ban the best people from playing." Guess why you'd prefer it that way. Really take your best guess. Pretend I've got a gun to your head and I'm going to pull the trigger if you guess wrong, and you tell me: What kind of person wishes the people around him were limited? Hint: The answer is in the question. You suck, and you want the world to suck so you can blend a little better. And I know you'll say "I'm not a director, I just watch and complain." But the thing is, if you're watching, and you're complaining, then you're a director. You're just so bad at it that you haven't even started, yet.
- If you are always unhappy, you're doing it wrong. If people don't like you, but you wished they liked you, so your solution is to pretend you don't wish they liked you, or that you don't like them, you're doing it wrong. If you hate everything; if you can't even stop complaining about the things you LIKE, you're doing it wrong. If you don't know you're right until you hear it from someone else, but you think you're going to change the world, one of those two things has got to give.
- Who the fuck did you trick yourself into thinking you were when you found this website? What fantasy is in the thought bubble above that bowling ball you call a head? You're a fucking blue ribbon idiot. Go pretend to have a tea party with a stuffed animal somewhere. You can practice putting it to sleep using only the power of stating your redundant perspective.
- You're a fucking lump of hamburger with a hat and glasses on it. What the fuck kind of Chinese restaurant placemat did you accidentally read that tricked you into thinking you were allowed an insight or opinion about anything? What do you think you could possibly have to share with someone like me? Knowledge? Insight? I'm a human being and you're a boiled hot dog.
- For the rest of your life, every conversation you ever have, every time you open your mouth from now until the day you die, unless you're talking to a fucking pickle or a rock, I want you to START, not END, START your half of the conversation with, "of course, I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about." Save the universe some energy. Make a sign and put it on your forehead. "Hi. I'm half potato. Do you value time? If so, run."
- I swear to God, every time a famous person dies, someone laments Jim Belushi's continued existence. That guy is universally regarded as living proof of life's irony. He's going to get struck by lightning one day and nobody's going to bat an eye.
- I actually tend to avoid "moving" movies because one of two things is going to happen: I'm not going to be moved, and it's going to piss me off, or I'm going to be moved, which usually amounts to feeling a tremendous amount of grief at some point. Basically, somebody's got to die, otherwise you've got Jerry MacGuire or Good Will Hunting, these movies that briefly hypnotize people into thinking they're important, long enough to make some money and beat it out of town like a 60's con man.
- I'm Dan Harmon, and I shit gold.
- Maybe if we freeze ourselves in a block of ice we can skip to 2050 when everything's finally perfect instead of just fucking awesome.
- I like MESI the way it is, I like from-the-hip shows, I liked Fun Squad, I loved this episode of Rock Gods, but I also like the "ironically great looking" stuff, and I love the shows that start as one and become another, like Shitcock. I wouldn't want Channel 101 to be one or the other. When I think of the miracle of digital video, I think of a guy dancing in his underwear with a tinfoil helmet on his head, but I also think of Drew Carey busting out a gold card and laying down dolly track behind a strip club. I think of things that make you say, "holy shit, why isn't this on real TV" and I think of things that make you say, "holy shit, I could never see this on real TV." I think of This Afternoon kind of gripping me, I think of Chris Romano kind of making fun of me, I think of Jeremy Carter making me laugh and I think of The Lonely Island doing all three, with Jorma storming out of a closet door in a blue-filtered living room and crying while some Felicity music swells. I think of a live audience being affected by images that were just generated by some guy holding a box that captures light, without passing those images through Colgate or the FCC or Bill Cosby's lawyer's sense of entitlement. I think of ugly people inheriting their own sex appeal and handsome people experimenting with their own ugliness, I think of fat men running and shooting guns and crying and making out with women, I think of women and high school kids and even Mexicans, really everyone but Canadians, beaming fantasies from the center of their brains onto a big fucking screen and I think of a community stockpiling those fantasies and using them as currency among each other. And I don't know where MESI fits into all that, or if it's job, upon going from 40% to 60%, BUT going from #4 to #5, is to keep doing more of the same or change a little or change a lot or just lay down and die.
- In response to a poster claiming the final episode of Laser Fart was homophobic:
At the last prime time panel I attended, I saw that Christian's cable service offered more HD channels than mine, and I said, "aw, man, you faggot!" And then I realized Mike Rose was sitting between us and I looked at the floor and said, "sorry."
And Mike Rose said, "Did you just apologize to me?"
And I was way more embarrassed then. Because by apologizing, I had attempted to reduce Mike Rose to an ambassador of homosexuality, and a thin skinned one at that. And it's not my right to decide when, where, what and how Mike Rose is offended. I don't know what his personal philosophies are, I'll probably learn them over time, and they'll be different than Drew Droege's, who is also gay, and different from Ryan Ridley, who is not [entirely] gay, and maybe all of our personal philosophies will influence and change each other's, because we're friends, and friendship and humanity is what affects social change.
For the .4 seconds of my apology, we weren't humans. Our humanity was taken from us, not by the word "faggot," but by my fear and by this stupid non-political political movement, a movement that has been going on since I was a child and which has not changed a single god damn thing of any real importance to any single human being on the planet, and which has only served to create more guilt and tension among a nation of people who, as far as I can tell, want desperately to love each other when they come out of the womb and are somehow distracted from that task along the way to their graves by programs, systems, rules, media and everything else on the inhuman side of this war against humanity.
Anybody that attempts to take control over another human, be it with bombs, bullets, hijackings, speeches, wars, clucking tongues, guilt or rules, is not someone I can ever trust, and nobody I mistrust will ever change me. So if affecting me is really your goal, become a person. Speak for one mind. Become someone I respect and admire. Like Mike Rose. I'll find myself wishing I was more like you, or wanting you to hang around more often, and I'll change the way I think without even noticing. And the change will trickle down to the people who wish they were more like me, and so on, down the human tree. We're quite geared for this sort of thing as primates. It's just TV and your mother have gotten you a little confused about how people really work.
If you really believe that social change can and should be mandated, go to a meeting, raise your hand, pull a lever, make a law, and let democracy do its important work. The fact that there is no law in West Hollywood or San Francisco against "homophobic speech," the fact that nobody is even somewhat seriously suggesting we ammend the first ammendment, should give you some indication that "minorities," however and whenever they are successfully lumped together, have bigger fish to fry. You need a bigger fish to fry, too.
Maybe you're going to grow into a fine adult, and this is part of that growing. Maybe there's a new wrinkle forming in your brain right now, storing the realization that people aren't going to change their behavior in response to your "icky" faces and protests. My language is not a spoonful of strained peas to be accepted or rejected at your whim. You're in a big world, now, with 7 billion other babies of various sizes, colors and ages. Some are gay, some are black, some know more than you, some less, but a great many of them aren't going to give a shit what you have to say until you become someone to admire. Make a pilot. Write a poem. Go back to school, but this time, when they ask you what you want to do, don't say "liberal arts." Just say "I don't know" until you find something that makes you happy.
The golden rule is: Treat other people the way you'd want to be treated. That way, at the very worst, you'll end up hanging out with a bunch of people like you. If there was a derogatory word for something that I was, I wouldn't want people to stop using it when I walked into the room, and I guess my friends feel the same, so I guess we're all doing fine around here, thank you very much.
And the day I decide to change the way I communicate- the day I decide to start following the linguistic equivalent of an exercise program, it's going to be because I was inspired by someone in better shape than me.
I guess what I'm saying is...nice try, but hit the showers, niggy.
You’ve made some excellent points...
And you ignored them. Even though I tried to be nice. I told you that if you wanted me to take you seriously you needed to stop speaking as a fictional group and be a human being. Who is "we?" Stupid people? Confused people? Weak people? Incoherent basket cases? Who is cursed with your representation today? The Infantile Association of Whiny People With Nothing to Contribute? I'm pretty sure I gave at the office.
And I mean that literally. Every time I sign a contract, tens of thousands of dollars are funneled into the maintenance of your witless, directionless, poisonous society. Every time I'm writing something for money, I'm given a list of naughty things I can't say. When it comes to my dedication to your ridiculous cause, which seems to be "let's all talk like we're on TV," trust me, asshole, I gave at the fucking office and I will continue to give for the rest of my life. So stick that in a can of Mountain Dew and shove the whole thing up the President's Faggot Amp'd Mobile Cunt.
They're fucking words. There's a war going on, children's arms and legs are getting blown off, we're paying for it, and you're offended by a fucking word. You can't use words to change people. You can't, but according to you, I can. So treat me like I have that power. Get on your fucking knees and pray to me and write me a check or I'll turn you to dust by saying the word googaboo. It's a new one, I made it up, it's the most offensive word in the world. If I say it three times, your dick falls off. Now get the fuck out of here, I don't like the way you put words together, when you type, it makes me remember getting raped in the butt at summer camp. I'm going to sue you.
- Posted: Wed Mar 30, 2005 11:32 am Post subject:
Stuart wrote: Someone should shoot some video OF the screening. Set a camera on a tripod at the front of the room and post some video, or get really enterprising and do a live-to-web video stream. That would help those of us who can't make it in person understand "The Audience" a bit better.
Did I miss the other half of this proposal? After I help you understand something, do I get anything? Or would this be a "Canadian bargain?"
I thought the whole idea of Channel 101 was that you were supposed to set up a camera in Ontario. For us. Shoot a pilot? That's why the web site is here. To attract directors. And, failing that, to carve new directors from the driftwood.
Shoot something called "The Canadian Channel 101 Supporter." Here's the theme song. It's kind of a march:
He complains And complains and complains and complains He uses google from his igloo and complains He thinks we're iFilm! He thinks it's his! He never pays He just complains And he complains!
He issues edicts composes maxims he shakes his fist he wants to know the definitions! to understand this foreign land called USA from which he gathers his supplies and then complains!
His health care's great he gets free stitches but I'd speculate that afterwards he bitches In Canada, you see, complaints are riches they pay for high speed internet with crates of chickens then they click across the border for our pickins and complain! and complain! AND COMPLAIN!
(tuba solo) (tempo slows down, maudlin)
But they never ever make anything because the part of your brain that creates things also destroys things and a Canadian would never presume to be so impolite although they don't seem to have a problem disagreeing with everything you say and asking for separate checks
From the NY.Channel.com forums Edit
Hello, New York faggots! Congratulations on your biggest crowd milestone. Did I read correctly that you added a second screening on the fly? That's amazing and well deserved. Maybe WE should start promoting. Our second screenings are getting pretty sparse.
The VH1 show (and site) is now called Acceptable.TV. The website launches, well, soonish, and the show premieres Friday, March 23rd.
In 101/102 terms, think of the format as: five shows total with two "prime time" slots, each show no longer than three minutes. those five shows are just being generated by Acceptable.TV, the "troupe," but in each broadcast, we will ALSO show whatever happens to be the #1 show on the SITE, where "viewers like you" (believe me, I know you're more than viewers) make their own shit and the number of prime time slots would...depend on how much content is coming in.
ALSO, and this is something about which I am very excited, which likely means it will soon get killed:
Every creator whose web-based show hits that #1 sweet spot throughout our first 8 week cycle, I want to show their work back to back in a special 9th episode clip show, and then have the audience choose which of those creators should be added as official creators on the "legitimate" show next season.
If you want to submit something to Acceptable.TV- and I want you to, because I would like to "seed" the user generated arena with people already providing proper examples- target 2:30 as a runtime, make the music original and clearable, and be prepared to furnish release forms for peeps and locales. Yeah, it's a fucking drag, I know. I probably wouldn't want to do it.
If you swear it'll be bleeped. Don't show buttholes, penises, mountain dew labels, open wounds or vaginas.
And be funny, at least in your own eyes. I've seen in this forum that you guys have that whole we're-subtle-and-sophisticated-and-101-isn't thing going, and I have never tried to burst that bubble because what do I know, and, more importantly, how would it profit me. BUT, my TV show is my TV show and it's a comedy sketch show. So if you do decide to dirty your manicured hands making content for ol' Laser Butt, kindly prove that you're above my humor and structure by stooping to employ some version of it.
There's a good chance I won't be popping in on a regular basis to answer your questions. I'm going to try to draft up some kind of official call-to-action and FAQ, but there's no time right now, so all I can say is, make a 2:30 TV show and make it fast. Make it before your next screening.
Send it in whatever format you want to:
201 N. Occidental Blvd. Bldg #6
Los Angeles, CA 90026
Thanks for your time.
From Interviews Edit
- Once upon a time, something happened, and it was better than something not happening. The end.
- If I decide to flip a coin, and I decide that if it's heads, I'm going to eat a turd, it's not the coin's fault.
- I have no drive to succeed, I don't persevere. Everything I've ever done that's been hard to do failed. Everything I've ever done that was fun, and happened naturally, was successful. Sometimes you don't want to write something. Good. I wouldn't want to read it if you did. Go to the mall. Talk to your friend. Do drugs. Drive your car into a brick wall. Sit in your closet and cry. Obviously, you're going to have to do something other than what you're doing. Be at least as smart as a spider. If there's no silk coming out of your asshole, or no flies in your web, you crawl somewhere else.
- The difference, right now, between old media and new media is that new media has no money, and therefore no rules, and therefore it has humanity, and viewers. In the long run, 5,000 years of tradition isn't going to change: the rich people are always going to control everything. But we're living, right now, through a historical transition, like the wild west, a time and place before the richies and the law have settled in. I'm surprised to see so little celebration of it, but I guess what we've learned is that people were pretty happy with their lives. Give them their own cameras and the chance to reach a global audience, and what do they do? They make "parodies" of Mac/PC commercials.
- Right now, we're like monkeys using rifles to club animals. Very soon, there is going to be a very loud bang. We are all going to stop what we're doing and turn to look, and one of us is going to standing there with his finger on the trigger and his eye to the scope. And then we're all going to do it. So, that's the difference between the studio system and the Internet. I work at the studio, I make money at the studio, and I run back to the Internet to bang my rifle on a rock, because I want to be there when the bang happens.
From 'Laser Fart' Edit
- From now on, everything is my responsibility.