One more man to add to my list...

Okay, so he may not be the most attractive man of all time. By the way, the list I'm referring to is the very short list of men that I would actually consider marrying. This is the first non-fictional man to be awarded the honor, I believe. In case you're wondering who the hell this guy is, allow me to enlighten you: this is Chuck Klosterman, the most awesome man alive. Author of the fantastic collection of pop-culture analysis, Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs. I would like to take a moment here to acknowledge Ang for turning me on to the greatness which is Chuck Klosterman. Any man who refers to John Cusack as "that motherfucker," as well as holding Cusack responsible for the idea that he (Chuck) will never have a satisfying relationship, is okay in my book. If you find my blogs even remotely entertaining, you should definitely read this book, because it's like my blogs to the 100th power.

Anyway, enough free advertisement for Chuck's book. I'm sure he has enough money already. I really wish I had something interesting to write about this week. Traffic has been absolutely abysmal on the parkway all week, for no good reason. It didn't matter how early I left for work on any given day, I still got there after 8, hard as I tried to get there by 8. See what I've resorted to? Whining about the complications of my daily commute. This is all because I get bitchings from my fans when I do not update my blog regularly. OH, I know what I'll write about....


Yes, that really is what it looks like: a box of rocks. Smelly rocks, with Elton John's name on them. I came across these babies at White Barn Candle recently and was at first intrigued, and then, after I sniffed them, appalled. First of all, why the hell would anybody buy a box of perfumed rocks? I'm guessing rocks were chosen rather than potpourri because of the opportunity to create the oh-so-clever name "Elton Rocks". And while this is the absolute truth when speaking of the man Sir Elton John himself, there is nothing rocking about these rocks. There are several different scents, and none of them are really good. Some of them are downright offensive. When I imagine the scent of Elton John, I imagine something fruity, fresh, and clean. Maybe this is sexual-preferenced based stereotyping. Just because Elton John is gay doesn't mean that he smells fruity. He could, in fact, smell like musky man ass, which is actually the name of the scent you see pictured above (I'm kidding, in case you didn't catch that). I'm really not sure what bothers me most about this product: That someone might actually pay $32 (yes, that's the price of these "precious gems") for a box of stinky rocks or that Elton John put his name on a product that he obviously didn't do a sniff test on first (or if he did, he needs to get his olfactory glands checked...probably a result of all the drugs he did back when his music wasn't all wussy and awful). Ah. Okay. I'm finished bitching about the Elton Rocks.

I honestly can't think of anything else to write at the moment. I will try to update again at some point this weekend. Don't hate me if I don't.

I know, I know....

It's been awhile since I updated. But I figured that the Renegade post was so incredibly awesome that it would quench everybody's thirst for a Sven blog update. And I suppose it sort of did it's job...Ang hasn't bitched at me in awhile. Though, she may just be busy. Anyway, I don't have a specific topic for tonight, so I'll just jump back and forth on some random thoughts that have crossed my mind over the past 10 or so days.

First of all, although I have not viewed my Lady and the Tramp DVD as of yet, (I know, I was so excited about it arriving, and I haven't even bothered to watch it yet. What the hell is wrong with me?) I have been thinking about how well the film lends itself to a Marxist/Cultural Criticism-type analysis. See what happens to those of us who have liberal arts educations? Specifically English or Cultural Studies majors, as Cultural Studies is a discipline heavily grounded in Marxist theory. What I'm trying to say is that after taking Cultural Criticism with Betsy, it's impossible for me to take anything at face value, especially media (and I don't just mean the news. I mean all sorts of visual, written, and audio media). For those of you who have taken a Cultural Studies class, you understand what I'm saying. But just to clear things up for those who haven't, I'm not saying that Walt Disney was a Commie or anything. But, class oppression and hegemonic systems are definite themes in Lady and the Tramp. Think about it for a minute: Just the title implies the dichotomizing of social class. This is a classic "rags-to-riches" story. Tramp...the (mixed race, or "minority" race, lower-class) mutt meets Lady, the (representative of the Caucasian race, upper-class) purebred, and although he faces shit from both sides (the purebreds don't like him because he's a mutt, the mutts think he's a traitor for going after a purebred), he ends up getting the woman and a loving home, and a collar...a true sign that he is now an "upper-class" dog. BAM! And this is what we love to see as an audience, mainly because it makes us believe that if it happened to them, it can happen to us too. We can go from lower-class to upper-class, be accepted, and live happily ever after. There are a lot of other things to think about here, however. For instance, what does it say that Tramp is the male character and Lady is the female character? This places a woman in a position of power that does not follow a traditional system. Hmmmm....hahahaha. I would be willing to make a bet that someone has already written some sort of cultural analysis of Lady and the Tramp, if not on it's own, then included in an article with other Disney features. And I certainly plan to look into this, I just haven't had the chance to go to the library. Needless to say, this is a very brief version of what may very well turn into an entire article on this subject. We'll see how ambitious I'm feeling. I think the fact that I'm still thinking actively about these things even though I'm no longer in school is a sure sign that I will eventually go back to grad school, and probably for something that allows me to do shit like this. But, enough of my Communist propaganda.....let's talk about sex, baby.

Not really sex, but just the overabundance of commercials on television about erectile dysfunction...or as those oh-so-hip commercials call it, ED. More and more brand name, prescription medications keep popping up. Is this really that huge of a problem? They make it seem like it is, but I have trouble believing it. I think it's all a ploy to make men think it's a problem. Sure, some men probably really do have ED or whatever. But the commercials make it seem like middle-aged men should still have the same sex drive that they had when they were 15...that every guy should be a "walking hard-on" (to quote Brodie in Mallrats). To tell you the truth guys, most women would probably prefer that your sex drive slowed down a bit anyway. Now they're using the scare tactic that high-blood pressure and diabetes can cause ED. I suppose that may be true. To get to the point, I don't really think that drug companies should be allowed to advertise their medications on television, because it causes "epidemics" in the American public. I realize that's precisely the reason that they do it, but it has to drive doctors insane. "I think I'm depressed! I saw that Zoloft shit on TV, how about giving me some of that?", "I think I have erectile dysfunction! How about some Viagra?" All I'm saying is that it causes people to self-diagnose and tell their doctor what to do, and imagine symptoms that aren't really there just because they heard them mentioned on TV, when they should be telling the doctor what symptoms they're actually experiencing, and letting the doctor diagnose from there. This is just a little more cultural criticism coming your way. I guess I'm on a cultural criticism kick this week. Not that that's a bad thing. Just an observation. But, I think I've made this long enough already. By the way, if you have any suggestions for fixing my blog so that it's not centered, but off to the right like it's supposed to be, with my little information bar on the left at the top instead of way down at the bottom, please let me know. This thing is driving me crazy. I promise, the next update will be soon!

"He was a cop and good at his job.

But then he committed the ultimate sin and testified against other cops - gone bad. Cops who tried to kill him, but got the woman he loved instead. Framed for murder, now he prowls the badlands. An outlaw hunting outlaws, a bounty hunter - a RENEGADE!" Yes, folks (yes, I just used the word "folks"), it's the moment you've all been waiting for. The Renegade blog!!!!!!!! Now, I'm not going to lie, all of the exciting information and trivia that I will include in this post was not stored in that amazing Pandora's box which is my mind (yes, I believe that my mind is a relatively dangerous thing when my thoughts are allowed to escape). I actually spent a bit of time researching the subject, which turned out to be fruitful as well as necessary, as Lindsey and I very rarely watched the show for more than 30 seconds without ripping on it.

Just a couple of quick, important facts regarding Renegade:

• The show ran from 1992-1997 on USA, for a grand total of 5 seasons. How it lasted this long, I have no idea. I do not know what time or day of the week it originally aired, as I used to watch it on USA at 2 AM when I had insomnia back during my angst-ridden high school days.
• The main characters in the show (who can be seen in the above photo) are Vince Black alias Reno Raines (Lorenzo Lamas, middle above), Cheyenne Phillips (Kathleen Kinmont, left above), and (drumroll, please) BOBBY SIXKILLER!!!!!!!!!!!! (Branscombe Richmond, right above...which doesn't sound very Native American to me, but hey, who am I to judge?)
• And, a quick summary, courtesy of IMDB.com: "After crooked cop Lieutenant 'Dutch' Dixon kills his girlfriend and frames him for murder, Reno Raines escapes from jail and goes on the run. Teaming up with Bobby Sixkiller and Cheyenne Phillips, Reno works as a bounty hunter while searching for the only man who can clear his name."
• And this is the Wikipedia entry for the show: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Renegade_(TV_Series. You can find out all kinds of exciting facts, and click on the actors names to find out more about them. This page is highly recommended for the Renegade enthusiast who is thirsty for more after reading this blog.

There is no way for me to describe the awesome-itude of this quality program if you have not seen it with your very own eyes. Take my word for it; if you rent (which I'm not sure you can do at your standard video store) the first season DVDs (yes, the first season is out on DVD), you will not be sorry.

Let me give you an example of how messed up I was in high school: Not only did I have a crush on Lorenzo Lamas, but more specifically his Renegade character, Reno Raines, (you can't blame me for having a crush on him, because Reno Raines is such a perfectly alliterative alias. Just to side track for a moment, I would have to say that if I were to create my own alias I'd probably pick Tucson Tornado, just to keep in the tradition of a Southwestern city and an alliteratively matching weather occurence). But the man Lindsey and I were really obsessed with was that Native American paragon of studliness, Bobby Sixkiller. It was the Native American-style mullet that got us...short on top, ultra long in the back, complete with a couple of choice strands wrapped in string and beads, as if to announce, "This mullet is better than the traditional white-trash, wife-beater mullet. It has feathers." I was obsessed with Bobby Sixkiller so much to the point that I memorized the music to the opening credits, and I could close my eyes and point out the exact moment that Bobby Sixkiller would appear in the credits, just by listening to the music. True story. Ask Lindsey for verification. I used to tape this show at 2 AM from USA, and force Lindsey (and occasionally Ang) to watch it with me later. Bobby Sixkiller does this "hand shake", where he looks like he's about to shake the guy's hand, but he pulls his hand away. And Lindsey and I used to see each other in the halls at school, and perform the "Sixkiller hand shake," as we so affectionately named it. And now, after a bit of research, I have learned that there are other people who are obsessed with Bobby Sixkiller. And I will share the links to these pages with you:

• http://foos.caltech.edu/sixkiller.html The Official Bobby Sixkiller Homepage
• http://www.branscomberichmond.com/ Branscombe Richmond's Official Website. This site is not about Bobby Sixkiller, it's about the man who plays his character, but trust me, it is amazing. In fact, Branscombe Richmond is almost as awesomely bad as the character Bobby Sixkiller. Trust me, go to this website, you won't be sorry.

I've been thinking that it would be interesting to do some sort of analysis on this show...which would require me to actual watch it for something other than its pure entertainment value. And I don't mean the deep kind of entertainment. I mean the American Gigolo kind of entertainment...the kind that's only good for one thing: ripping on. However, I want to provide more insight into this program...I want to try to figure out why USA kept the show on for five seasons. Were its ratings really high enough for this? How could this show stay on for five years, while a fantastic program like Arrested Development is getting cancelled after only 3 seasons? These are the sorts of things that plague my mind. I need to do some sort of study. I'm intrigued. Maybe I can look at the cultural values portrayed in some longer-running TV shows as opposed to those in shows that have high critical approval, but don't run for more than a couple of seasons....we'll see. This is starting to sound like a thesis of sorts. Should I really be doing school-type things when I'm taking a break from school? None of this really matters. But I think I could provide better insight and better blogs about Renegade if I were to take a closer look at it. And therefore, I have nothing more for tonight. I leave you only with this incredible review from IMDB.com:

Post pub TV of the highest order,

18 March 2005

Author: Neil Lusher from United Kingdom

(In deepest voice possible) "He was a cop, and good at his job, but he committed the ultimate sin and testified against other cops (gone bad). Cops that tried to kill him, but got the woman he loved instead. Framed for murder, now he prowls the badlands, an outlaw hunting outlaws, a bounty hunter - a renegade". This is cheese of the highest order - it has a native American (Bobby Six-Killer!?!) driving a Hummer, fit birds, and the main character with his Michael-Bolton-esque hair cut. This program is much watch TV - any program set in "The Badlands" has to be seen to be believed. Warning - DO NOT WATCH THIS PROGRAM SOBER

I will not be called a bad blog-keeper!

And that is precisely why I am updating my blog today, as I watch the Oscars. I have been such a poor media guru this year that I have seen barely any of the films that are up for awards. I did see Brokeback Mountain, and while I had my qualms with its social implications, it was a good flick. I must admit, I was a little upset that one of the gay guys in Brokeback had to die; it feels so cliche. That way there's no way these two men can be together. And I'm sorry to those of you who haven't seen the movie. I should've created some sort of spoiler alert. Oh well. Anyway, back to my bitching about Brokeback. My next annoyance is not with the film. It's with how Brokeback Mountain has now become an adjective for male homoeroticism. For example, I was listening to the radio the other morning, and one of the announcers mentioned something along the lines of hugging the other announcer, then followed with, "Sorry, I didn't mean to get all Brokeback Mountain on you." I mean, come on. I suppose I could choose to look at the bright side of things; I mean, Brokeback seems to have meant to bring (specifically) male homosexuality into the mainstream, and to break the stereotype that all gay males are flamboyant and effeminate. And I feel that it definitely succeeded in bringing male homosexuality into the mainstream; the fact that radio announcers are using the term as an adjective for male homoeroticism proves that. So it has at least gotten people who wouldn't have originally thought about homosexuality thinking about it.

And as a side note about the Academy Awards, I would just like to give kudos to whoever decided to make that montage of old cowboy movies with "gay" implications. Because even though this was meant as a sort of joke, it shows that somebody else realizes the incredible homoeroticism contained in films that try so hard to showcase the epitome of masculinity, which, by social stigma, is the total opposite of homosexuality. DAMN, I feel like I'm writing a variation of my honors thesis here. I LOVE this shit!!! If grad school could just be an endless thesis about analyzing male homoeroticism, I'd be thrilled to jump right back in. So far, this is a great blog, but I'm pretty sure nobody will appriciate it as much as I do, except for maybe Banjo and Lindsey. Heidi will say "Dur," and nobody else will read past the first sentence. But, oh well. I have to keep practicing my analytical approach, as I do plan to go back to grad school eventually.

But let's move on to something else. Two awesome things will arrive for me in the mail this week: Lady and the Tramp, and Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. And this calls for some pictures! I love Lady and the Tramp so much. I mean, it's about dogs. And we all know how I feel about dogs. But, more important is how I feel about Ron Weasley. I'm depressed that the Goblet of Fire DVD comes out on a Tuesday, because there's no such thing as casual Tuesday, so I can't wear my Ron shirt or my Gryffindor shirt to work. But I suppose I'll just deal. But just as an interruption to this paragraph, can I just mention that I hate it when it's completely and totally obvious that the awards announcers are reading off of teleprompters. And WOO HOOOOOOO, Wallace and Gromit and the Curse of the Were-Rabbit won for best animated feature film! Fantastic! Wallace and Gromit are awesome.
And, of course, I've added a picture for your viewing pleasure. There just isn't enough room for all of the pictures that I want to put on here, so the Harry Potter picture will come a little bit later in the blog so that there is enough room for everything.

So, you know what I decided that I enjoy today, as I watched golf with my parents (yes, that's how pathetic I am, I have so few friends that I have to watch golf with my parents)? I like golf clothes. They are strangely entertaining. Plaid is my favorite, of course. But even the announcers seem to comment when someone is not wearing a really obnoxious color of some sort. And obnoxious colors are right up my alley, of course. I'd play golf if it weren't such an expensive and frustrating sport. I can't hit the ball very far, as I've discovered on my few experiences on a par 3 golf course. And I figure that if it takes me at least 6 strokes to put the ball in the hole on a par 3 course, there's no point in even attempting to golf on a regular course. So, I'll settle for wearing plaid without the golfing.

I just had a great thought. My next blog (or possibly another blog in the near future) will be on the Lorenzo Llamas show Renegade. For those of you who don't remember this incredibly fabulous program, find a couple of episodes to watch before I write my Renegade blog. I just have two words for you on the subject: Bobby Sixkiller. That's all I'll say. I don't want to spoil anything. There will be plenty of pictures. I know we all like visuals.

This has turned out to be an especially long blog! Just a couple more exciting things before I go: I have my first guy going to work (provided that his drug test results come back negative)! He doesn't start until next week, but I'm still excited. And I love getting paid weekly. Making payments on my credit cards every week is awesome. Oh, and I didn't have any tequila at happy hour this past week, so all is still well in the world. I'll just stick to vodka and cranberry juice, thank you very much. Tequila is a little too hardcore for me. Okay. Enough for tonight. I will try to blog again before next Sunday. Get yourself prepared for Renegade!!!!