Thoughts for Anthony Bourdain

boudain 2

For me, a lot of his work was so brilliant as a whole, the editing, cinematic sequences, music editing, camera work, and his writing, that the alchemy was transcendental. Fully in the religious sense. His work seemed to touch God. I think when you are that kind of porous conduit, when you are a vessel of transmission to the divine, you must also just be so sensitive to the universe’s vibrations and it’s exhausting.

He got right to the good, to the kernel of unadulterated pure good truth of humanity over and over but he had to wade through so much shit and ugliness and injustice to get to that good for us. He’s almost like a martyr to me. A martyr of the search for beauty.

He let all that light shine thru him, like one of those old, weather-bleached bones that has holes in it you find on a beach and hold up to the sun, this old, porous, luminescent oracle bone. Like a portal to the divine. As a shaman, he took us by the hand and pulled back the curtain: in the mundane, the everydayness, in the smallness, in the beingness, hides the holy, contains the sacred, is ambrosial. Come. See with me. And you will know too.

When will #metoo become a public policy discussion?

Part 1

Watching the dust-up over “Grace’s” Aziz Ansari character assassination has really been too much. I’ve been following all these various controversies associated with the fallout of Weinstein and the subsequent mass feminine hysteria calling for the death of all men and their penises cut off and hung out to dry into beef jerky so we can all eat them with fava beans and Chianti with some consternation which lead to the reading of Laura Kipnis’s amazing, edifying, concise, devastatingly written book Unwanted Advances, which reaffirmed my gut feelings that this shit was heading in the wrong direction. Grace proved that. I mean, have you ever seen such a quintessentially millennial complaint from a naive starfucker as hers, written by a more odious millenial brat author as the’s Katie Way? All you need to know about that story is the author coming for Ashleigh Banfield in her entitled little email where they only insults she could think of was that Ashleigh is old and has bad lipstick because that’s all a 22 year old ‘journalist’ has in her arsenal at this unpracticed stage in her life. and she said Grace was the bravest person she knows. AHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Bitch, you are not a journalist at 22. You have not gone to J school. Get some fucking education and some experience and then come for an actual journalist with better artillery than pretending you have any fucking clue what second wave feminism is because you encountered a reading or two about it in your college class, and definitely later complained to the professor your grade wasn’t high enough on your final paper and it’s not your fault because you were really sick and the professor is not being sensitive enough to your situation. Entitled millenial twat who probably says ‘literally’ all the time and should be a contestant on the SNL skit ‘You can do anything!.’ A couple of 22 year olds feeling brave so very BRAVE for their snuff piece, and I doubt very much either one of these brats could put their instagram and facebook accounts down long enough to vote in 2016. And I just CAN’T with her assertion that Grace is brave. Grace had to drink red wine instead of white wine and no one asked her what she wanted. Yes. That detail made it into Way’s piece. Go read this, which is probably the worst thing I have ever read. It made me cry to read it, whereas I laughed at Grace’s story and wanted to vomit in a bucket about what a fucking privilege it is to go cry in a taxi on the way home because after oral sex and oysters you got asked a bunch of times for other kinds of sex and you didn’t want to so you left. FUCK OFF.


There were thankfully a few women who were not busy reading Our Bodies, Ourselves and discovering their clitorises and pubic hair with a mirror at the time of this story and they spoke up to call this what it was, which is revenge porn, a particularly apt metaphor for snuff pieces like this which are designed solely to punish and humiliate: Grace saved the mental footage of this horrible, awful, no good, very bad date, and waited for just the right moment to release the footage and let him know she had something on him.  Just like the James Franco accuser who tweeted about how the voluntary car blowjob she gave him was coerced because he asked a bunch of times and she did it just to shut him up and then pretended she saw someone close to the car as a way to stop sucking his dick. She waited until he won a Golden Globe to trot out that sad tale of blowjob woe. Bitch, how about if you don’t want to suck a dick, you just don’t suck that dick? It’s easy. I’ve done it a lot. There’s like hundreds of dicks I haven’t sucked because I didn’t want to and I didn’t give a shit about what feelings I hurt.  Dave Chapelle, in his new Netflix series calls out this ‘brittle-as spirit’ ‘women-as perpetual victims’ narrative about the woman whose comedy dreams were shattered upon seeing Louis CK’s sad and needy penis performance and says maybe she didn’t really have that much of a dream to begin with if that’s all it took to kill it. And thank god Louis CK didn’t whip his freckly penis out at Martin Luther King because he actually had a dream. People hated him for calling out this current brittle-ass spirit shit for what it is, but I rejoiced. If we can’t survive an idiot whipping his dick out or can’t figure out how to put the phone down if someone is obviously masturbating on the other end, well, shit, how can we make the claim we should have the codes to the fucking nukes? For all Hillary’s faults, you can bet she,  at every single point in her life (I’m not talking about candidate Clinton only), sure as shit would have told Louis to put that shit away and hung up the phone.

Then I had to slog through a few other pretty stupid pieces about how the story didn’t really qualify as assault, but how we needed to open up the conversation about sexual encounters that FEEL like assault. FEEL, FEEL all the fucking FEELZ now days.  We don’t need reason or logic or critical thinking skills, we just need to Lean In (to pure, unadulterated emotion). This isn’t the #metoo movement, this is now the #mememememememetoo movement. Feminist author Jessica Valenti’s responses have managed to be both infantilizing of women and sanctimonious towards critiques of this story every having been put in the public domain.  Jill Filipovic offered her take and glaringly refused to call out Grace on her absolutely shitty revenge porn character assassination OR the fact that she and many other females can’t be bothered nowadays to take responsibility for their own decisions, decisions that have mixed consequences. Her encounter wasn’t A+. Nothing criminal happened. Don’t date him again. Move on. Nothing about the encounter gives her the right to trot this story out as evidence of anything other than her own dating choices and questionable expectations. What is happening on college campuses all around the country with the weird and secretive Title IX investigations into all manner of consensual sex is that women are being conditioned to have no agency and go looking for the bureaucracy to solve anything they might feel conflicted about. It’s spilled off campus and instead of tribunals and kangaroo courts, we have the kangaroo court of public opinion on Twitter and silly pieces about sexual encounters that FEEL like assault. And then all the pieces about how we need to talk about female pleasure and enthusiasm (is this before or after we sign the informed consent waiver and NDAs before we fuck?).

Part Three

Here’s what we do need to talk about: The fact that nearly no one so far is linking any of this #metoo stuff to public policy and the regulatory environment in this country, and the nexus of public policy, culture, and attitudes/behavior towards women. I recently read another of Kipnis’s pieces in the New York Review of Books in the early stages of #metoo, and though she was very sympathetic towards the hashtagging, you got the sense she had an idea of what it would devolve into, which she hints at in this piece for The Guardian about whether #metoo has gone too far or not far enough. She threads the needle admirably, and states, “It’s the historical amnesia of the Deneuve document that’s so objectionable. To the extent that women’s bodies are still treated as public property by men, whether that means groping us or deciding what we can do with our uteruses women do not have civic equality. To miss that point is to miss the political importance and the political lineage of #MeToo: the latest step in a centuries long political struggle for women to simply control our own bodies.” Let me just expand on this a little bit. The best way for us to own our own bodies would be to, you know, own our own bodies. #metoo has thus far failed in the extreme, in my opinion, to translate into any sort of policy discussion about structural change rather than how we all need to get that mirror out and stare at our vaginas a little bit more. We don’t need to own our bodies by talking more about female pleasure. We need to own our bodies in the way Kipnis is calling for. We should not have to be fighting off challenges in 30 states to Roe v Wade, we should not have to tolerate the pay gap that persists for no goddamn reason, we should have gender quotas on corporate boards like many countries do for companies that are publicly traded, we need more women in public office, we should not be the only developed country (can we even call ourselves that anymore?) without a federally mandated parental leave policy, we should not have to fight for access to birth control, or access to abortions, nor should how to fuck women be literally the first thing that crosses republicans’ minds every time a bill comes up.

While we have all been feasting on the delicious chicken wings with buffalo sauce of the Ansari story or the Franco blowjob and and reading stories about our FEELINGSFEELINGSFEELINGS, and how we need to orgasm more,  HHS has opened a division to protect healthcare workers who want to refuse to provide medical care because of their religious objections. We are not fucking paying attention.  And when being shitty to women and discriminating against them is legally codified into basically every aspect of life in this country and our bodies are under constant attack and surveillance, is it any wonder men don’t think we are equal and deserving of respect of our persons?  It’s so pervasive that lots of women don’t like women, and couldn’t even vote for one, and voted for Trump.  I mean, this started way way way before Trump but we are now at the point where the patriarchy is emboldened enough to hold human females captive and try to force them to give birth, exactly like animals.  The way women are treated by many men in our culture is the result of a diseased system.  The way women treat other women and the way we treat ourselves , such as forgetting we have agency or not exercising it or not wanting to deal with the consequences of our agency when we exercise it (ahem, Grace) is also a symptom of this diseased system. We are infantilized at the highest levels of the system, so Im not exactly shocked that women nowadays can’t fucking own a goddamn thing they do, but it still is gross and something  to which we shouldn’t resign ourselves.  When devaluing women and denying them agency is a function of the system, it has an effect on culture, and culture explains attitudes/behavior towards women. It will take a couple generations to really inculcate the idea that women are equal members of society in our culture (the idea needs to take root among BOTH men and women alike) if we could fix some of these systemic issues. Culling a few bad actors (and a few good ones) from the herd will do nothing. It is treating a symptom and not the disease. The idea that the patriarchy is taking a hit because a few soldiers are falling is absolutely laughable. And I’m not ok with the collateral damage of the current Blitzkrieg though it’s very evident that some are, as we saw with Al Franken. We couldn’t be bothered to look up from hunching over the bloody corpse of Harvey Weinstein and rubbing his blood and guts all over our faces in some kind of Lord of the Flies frenzy to notice the Franken situation wasn’t deserving of the same ritual sacrifice. Dave Chappelle, incisive as usual, said sure, you’ve got men terrified, but if you ever want the system to change, you need allies, and he’s right.  Making men scared is not changing the balance of power in a sustainable way and fear is not equal to respect. Boiling in oil every man who is impure is such a fucking distraction and gets us no closer to what we actually need. And the men are still laughing their way to the bank on the 20 cents to the dollar they just saved paying us to write about our pleasure and pubic hair 45 years after that shit was discovered during the 70’s.

Mark fucking Zuckerberg

Ugh I just can’t with this guy. Human andoid penis has announced that this year’s ‘personal challenge’ (he’s such a douche he has to invent seriously indulgent maturbatory corporate speak titles for activities he engages in) to figure out what the fuck Facebook keeps getting wrong with itself. I’m so over his wide eyed gee golly *shrug* routine that he keeps playing with the future of democracy and civilization. He has been SO SLOW to the table on literally everything.  For a boy genius savant or whatever he is supposed to be, he’s the last to fucking know each and every time. Just for reference, figuring out how FB gets weaponized by the hands of dictators, cyber mafias, dark political money, foreign trolls and armed hate groups, and has turned truth and fiction upside down, threatened the basic tenets of democratic rule, fucked with our elections, and brainwashed entire swaths of troglodyte fuckwad republicans and ‘liberal’ identity politics brats alike….he puts that somewhere between visiting all 50 states, and whatever next year’s personal masturbation fantasy is, like learning tae kwon do or pottery classes. I’m just baffled that he let his publicist actually admit this to humans. His publicist is probably a weird robot too.

I wonder if he’ll find the time to address why Facebook is deleting pages of activists in Palestine at the behest of the Israeli government (great article by Glenn Greenwald) or why his army of 7,500 content reviewers has about a 50% accuracy rate identifying hate speech by hand, or whatever, with their actual faces and eyes (not by algorithm). Everyone who works for him is a weird android dummy!

Im still grappling with the fact that in 2017, after helping deliver the USA to the Russians and saddle us with Trump, he went on an indulgent little spirit quest while the world burned. It took him a YEAR, while the rest of us noticed IMMEDIATELY something went very very wrong, and it took everyone else doing the research, and fucking congressional inquiries to motivate this cunt. Maybe now that he’s done swanning around to all 50 states and doing peyote on a cliff under the stars he can find the time to examine his algorithms and pull the Israeli cock out of his ass.  I leave you with this, the brilliant South Park takedown, ‘Franchise Prequel,’ which is well worth watching in its entirety and even getting a Hulu subscription for a week in order to watch it.





Ding Dong: It’s Tiangong!

World at risk from Shitty Chinese Knockoff. China’s ‘space lab,’ meant to Bring Glory to Motherland with Big Sky Knowledge and Domination, hasn’t been heard from in almost 2 years. Their multibillion dollar space machine has just been floating aimlessly around the world as its shoddily-made components malfunctioned and now it will reenter the Earth roughly between 43 degrees north and 43 degrees south, an area containing basically every major world city, but no one knows exactly where.  spaceDon’t worry, risk to humans is minimal as it’s mostly expected to break up and burn up upon reentering the atmosphere, but seriously, what the fuck China.

The expert quoted in CNN’s story on the giant space failure says that if we can get a hold of debris it will lend some insight into China’s space program and we can see what kind of technology they are using: “‘It would be an opportunity for Western analysts to look at remnants of China space hardware. That’s a risk for the Chinese,” said Michael Listner, a lawyer and space law expert.'”  Is he even serious? Does he really think there’s anything in there at all that they came up with themselves and didn’t steal from us? Probably 99% of their space lab technology was from the US and Europe and that other 1% is why it’s AWOL and about to fall on us.

Baby carrots

I am not afraid to admit that I am prone to bouts of dumb blondness. I recently learned, during a rant on baby carrots, that baby carrots are not cultivated as mini carrots! I already hated them, but when I learned that their existence is purposely manufactured, I doubled down on my dislike. I mean, if it was a naturally occurring annoying thing, like baby corn, it would get a half pass, but now that I know that these terrible little creatures, enjoyed by children and other loser types, is the product of a whole lotta waste and whittling and quintessential american grossness, I really have it out for the ‘baby’ carrot. It’s the carrot of high capitalism and american greed and excess and should be  called the Lazy Cunt Carrot, because when the rest of the world has trouble with getting enough food, over here, we have nothing better to do than shave down the size of our carrots, which were probably really unnaturally big due to GMOs and Monsanto in the first place, for what reason? What is the problem with normal sized carrots? (Side note: What the fuck is up with those gigantic steroidinal carrots they sell in all Chinatowns? Where do they come from and why are the Asians the only ones with access to these carrots?) Dealing with carrots is really not that hard.  I’ve timed it because I make carrot sticks for my kid and it takes less than one minute to peel a carrot and cut it into manageable sticks by using a knife, so the wasted labor of industrially producing baby carrots just seems so fucking bizarre to me. Like, can’t we put that energy to use some other way that actually helps society? We could probably have high speed trains in this country if we weren’t busy making carrots smaller with machines after we grew them bigger! I’ll bet you anything Japan does not have baby carrots on its grocery store shelves, because at some point, as a society with a functioning nervous system, they were like, our energies are better spend linking our whole country with reliable high speed rail than whittling down the size of normal carrots so lazy cunty assholes can get them to their faces with less effort. The baby carrot is the perfect example of all the rotten shit about  America with our misplaced priorities, and faux-virtuous bougie eating habits and the hidden labor that goes into them.

have you ever seen something so unappetizing and dumb?
have you ever seen something so unappetizing and dumb?

Carrots in general are pretty overrated. I dislike being offered them as a healthier choice. Undoubtedly they are more healthy than chips, but are these insipid things really an adequate alternative? Is anyone ever genuinely pleased they decided on the limp dried out bag of baby carrots instead of french fries or chips? no. every time someone chooses the carrots, they are saying to themselves, ‘what a fucking drag these motherfucking carrots are,’ and then willing themselves, with great exertion, to eat them all up.

I utterly rescind everything I have just said about shitty carrots in 2 instances: 1. Carrot cake. 2. When they are carrots that came fresh from a garden. farmer’s market carrots are ok, but I’m really talking about a carrot that was just plucked from the garden.  The texture is 100 times more amazing than a grocery carrot, intensely fresh, crispy and cold, like carrot ice, and I don’t even mind if there is still dirt in some of the carrot crevasses.

Other disclaimer: I know they make these baby cut carrots out of smaller carrots that they would ordinarily have to discard because americans are too shitty to eat imperfect carrots, so in fact, the baby cut carrot is actually reducing some waste. But this makes none of my other points less true: we are just fat and lazy shites who throw out 40% of the food made in this country just because we can and it didn’t look perfect.

Sarah Huckabee Sanders

First of all, what the fuck kind of name is that anyway.  It just sounds like butter. All I hear when I see/hear her is crisco or butter or popcorn covered with butter. Her voice sounds like a Werther’s Original. She always dresses so frilly and feminine, completely at odds with her East German weightlifter at the 1972 Munich Olympics appearance.  One of my good friends with a real, serious career had a theory that SHS had a glass eye, because ‘there’s definitely something unnatural going on there’ and devoted a surprising amount of time searching for evidence of this online but came up dry.



I said that I thought it was just crooked/lazy/lying.  Lying eyeball aside, she reminds me of other things:

A giant squid with two Chernobyl faces spliced together

If a honey baked ham had a baby with Robert De Nero as Frankenstein

robert-de-niro-mary-shelleys-frankensteinjpgpineapple-maple-glazed-ham-92443-1Sarah Huckabee Sanders Holds Daily Press Briefing At The White House

Things Kellyanne Conway looks like

A tired rest stop diner waitress who makes an extra buck giving truckers blow jobs out back in order to help pay for her husband’s life saving medical treatments. Her eyes are dead and her soul is empty from this activity.


A roll of paper towels that once got all wet but is now dry. This roll of paper towels is on the back of the toilet under the paper towel dispenser that is empty at a Chinese Restaurant.


Half dry potting clay that is drying on your fingers and giving you the heebie jeebies and you need to go wash your hands right fucking now.


If sloth from the goonies had a baby with a fried chicken breast. 

Then she spent the whole year deep conditioning and getting fillers at the White House and brings along her own soap opera filter to any TV appearance. Seriously, check out her evolution from the driest bitch to cosplaying Al Capone’s girlfriend named Tits McGee crossed with how all super rich women look in Korean dramas.
conway 4
drier than Death Valley
Trump's advisor Conway speaks about Comey at the White House in Washington
discovers juvederm and conditioner
kellyanne botox
more botox and fillers and it has affected her eye and is what I imagine she spends most of her time doing all day at tax payers’ expense
conway 2
full transformation into the human version of a warm soap opera filter

Touching, outside of America



I had to take Cmekta, this random Russian medication in Armenia when I got food poisoning from eating a mussel (in a landlocked country. such a dumb move). it was totally chalky and revolting fruit punch flavored nastiness. it would have been so much worse if the glass was not a see-through glass. I acquired this stuff by miming stomach cramps and poop butt at the pharmacist and then went back to my hotel room to drink it and lie down. When the housekeeper came into the room to clean it, I was lying in bed with my clothes on since I had come back in the middle of the day from a conference. I was lying very still on my back like dracula in a coffin. She started talking to me in Russian, probably because I look more Russian than anything else, but I had no clue what she was saying-she had noticed the Cmekta and divined I was sick. She came over and started massaging my head! It was the nicest most comforting thing in that moment. trapped in a weird country with food poisoning, feeling like absolute hell, and all you want is your mom, and then some mom-adjacent figure shows up to murmur soothingly and massage a total stranger’s head.

Incidentally, I also got food poisoning in Korea a long time ago from eating a clam. We were living with host families for a whole month, and this was far worse food poisoning than Armenia and involved projectile vomit and diarrhea and a crushing headache, all while having to contend with an indecipherable east asian toilet that sprayed water on your nether parts or at your face, if you were standing over it trying to flush it because none of the buttons were obviously for flushing. My host mom came and massaged my head and my feet at regular intervals and did some pressure point stuff in my hands because my head  was pounding brutally.  It was very comforting.

Americans do not touch each other enough.  Military service is compulsory for men in Korea, and do you know that they teach them massage and acupressure? It’s unbelievable. One night we were chilling with the sons of our host families, guys in their 20’s. They gave us back massages and awesome hand massages, learned in the MILITARY, for relaxation techniques. Can you imagine the US military even thinking about that for 2 seconds? Americans have Daryl Metcalf level aversions (seriously, watch the video) to touching while the Koreans, who live 2 miles away from actual nuclear destruction have compulsory massage lessons for all their men doing their military service.

Any time I’m in Asia I spend lots of time paying people to touch me. it’s cheap, because most people are touching people, so there is not a huge premium attached to a massage like there is in the US, and its all very democratized and affordable for way more people than in Western countries. Some places in Beijing, you can get a full body massage for 5 dollars or an amazing foot massage/acupressure massage for the same price. It’s no frills, and no one leaves the room for you to undress modestly or pours fancy unctions on you,  and the massage table definitely doesn’t have clean sheets on it, and the towel they drape on you smells like 45 other people, but I do not even care.  someone to touch you for an hour and for 5 dollars? it’s glorious. I would get like 2 a day.

I got a massage (still while dealing with food poisoning) in Armenia from a stereotypical Helga-type soviet woman, probably great at the shot put at some point in her life.  you are told to take your clothes off, all of them, right then and there. the lights are florescent and turned all the way up, the room is not very warm, and Helga is tapping her foot, and there is no aromatherapy, but there is a tub of mutton fat lubricant or something, but for $37 instead of $90, I could give a shit about all of that.

Ive had 2 really bad massage experiences. The worst massage I’ve ever had was in Iran. And of course, in true Iranian fashion, I was told it was the BEST massage in Tehran. I sat around in a hamam getting all damp and sweaty, and then was taken 2 hours late into a clammy room that smelled like dampness and miasma of mildew and drain pipe and told to get on this huge slab of a bed on top of a towel. a woman in her bra and underwear made some lame attempt at a massage while coating my entire body, face, hair in this awful thick oil, so much oil, SO MUCH OIL, she would get up on the table and sit on me and mash and splash around the oil, and my face was wedged in this tiny breathing hole slit in the table ace-ventura-rhino and my neck hurt so badly, and when she flipped me over there were dead cockroaches in the lights above me that I tried not to think about.  It took 3 shampoos and I still left oily all over, and I swear to god my back felt worse than it did before I went in.  it was so gross and so lame and I was pissed for the rest of the day because I had placed a lot of hopes on a good massage since I had been so stressed out from fleeing pigeon ticks in our rented apartment and trying to find a new one in the middle of ramadan heat and dehydration.

The second one was at a Russian bathhouse outside of Philadelphia, which took place in a 100 and whatever degree sauna by a huge bald sweating Russian who almost certainly had another job as a Russian mafia hit man. I was in a bathing suit, so the vigorous rubbing with the spongy soap thing he was using was awkward, because the scrubbing kept taking off my bikini in inopportune places. It was so hot that a bag of ice has to be placed under your neck so that you don’t die, but the hit man/masseuse doesn’t get the benefit of one of these life-saving ice bags, so he’s just wheezing and panting and dripping dangerous sweat with desperation eyeballs and it was the MOST HOT and claustrophobic and life-threatening half hour of my life while suds mixed with both our sweat and tears in some kind of  Eastern Promises sauna fight scene with Viggo Mortenson. eastern promisesHe scrubbed so hard and it was so hot that he made the skin on the back of my calves raw and they itched for a week while it healed.


Jefferson Beauregard Sessions III

definitely looks like the world’s grossest dog, the bichon frise, crossed with Gary Oldman in Bram Stoker’s Dracula.  He just perfectly encompasses looking like he will literally eat out your soul but be really fuzzy and beady eyed and sniffy while doing it.

jeff sessionsgary oldman dracula


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