• I’ve Met Chuck Klosterman & All I Got Were Some Nice Autographs

Not from last night's event, but still not a good sign in regards to Klost's health.
Not from last night

Here’s the thing about Chuck Klosterman, he’s disarmingly unguarded. You see him do a reading and a Q&A and an autograph signing, and he reads it like he’s reading it to himself. His intonations have no signs of any overt control or self consciousness, they are just him having fun.

But why should Klosterman, who made Pop Culture Trivia Ninja a possibly respectable position in this country, be having anything but fun right now? He’s written 4 pieces of non-fiction pop cultural reportage as I’ll describe it, and this week released his first novel Downtown Owl, which I’ve started but am not quite enamored with yet. He damn well packed the Union Square Barnes and Noble reading area on the 4th floor to capacity, as well as the quasi holding pen area that the overflow arrivers like myself stood in. He has one fan rabid enough to bring him cupcakes from the bakery they work at, which he was ecstatic to recieve, but I did overhead that he’s rabid for cupcakes of the Red Velvet variety.

Said fan was about 4-5 in front of me on the line, and by the time I got up to Chuck, the girl in front of me was telling him how Killing Yourself To Live saved her life, which, interestingly enough, was one of the ideas I’d posited to friends about the weeks prior to the start of my senior year when I was meandering around Bard Campus during L&T. This left me with little to talk to Klosterman about with, especially as I used up my token stupid question “What publication wouldn’t you write for?” (Answers: Grit, Highlights for Children, but maybe he wants to …).

By the time I walked away with my signatures on my copies of KYTL & DO, I did learn one thing, Chuck Klosterman likes my headphones. Also, he also predicted earlier in the night that Obama will win in another nail biter and that the Eagles will win the Superbowl.


• Dear Matt Taibbi, What Have You Made Me Do?

I went my whole life without owning a magazine with The Jonas Brothers on the cover.

This wasn’t a big deal until the last calendar year, when these kids – who by the way I have no clue who they are, what I know is that they make stacks and stacks of money, one of them has some fake Waiting For Marriage bullshit going on with Hannah Montana and one of my cousins has paid to see them in concert – became the next coming of Hanson. Which wouldn’t be the worst thing ever except that they’re of the Disney Channel DNA which requires you to be bad at both singing and acting.

The thing about them making bank, you know how they sell records? They market themselves to kids too young and too stupid and too shit scared to try and steal music. Kids whose parents will buy their love with really fucking expensive movie tickets. This is why I think the children are not the future. These kids are tone deaf and retarded and will not pass the Survival of the Fittest test.

But back to the title of this piece. This is the second post I’ve had with these snots in it, and now, I have a plan to retain my dignity. I buy Rolling Stone for the politics articles by Matt Taibbi, and I’m just going to have to, well look above, and think that one used to cover the other, tear the damn cover off the magazine and leave it in the trash to be disposed. I could just, you know, not buy the magazine, but RS doesn’t put Taibbi’s brilliance online.

Oh, wait. They do, now.

Crap. They didn’t post his article when I’d checked this morning.

At least I got the Pineapple Express feature.

MotherFuckingAngry is my Middle Name

Apparently, my postal worker doesn’t give a shit about quality of service.

1. Something you might not know is that I take my magazines very seriously. Too seriously, I’m sure. But when the Brooklyn Postal Service continues to shit in my face and smile while they poo, I’m not really going to take it lying down anymore. Today, I got my copy of Fader’s 50th Issue “Solid Gold”* spectacular, and the upper left hand corners were shredded to shit (see above). I’m so tired of shitty mail delivery that I think I might buy one of those year-round mail boxes at a UPS or some such location. This will not eliminate all of the distance from the printer to my feverish eyes, but at least I’ve cut out the kindergarten dropouts called post office employees. For once, taking things to the private sector might be a good idea.

2. More to be angry about: Oh Word’s own Rafi Kam has thrown his 2 cents into the debate over Facebook’s new Beacon technology. Facebook is taking another step in becoming the big brother asshole that we all pretty much think that prick Zuckerberg would become. He must feel so superior, to be a drop out pulling the wool over the eyes of so many students and grads who didn’t want to throw away their parents’ money.

3. Even more: Amazon’s Kindle. It looks like ass, is anti-sharing, and renders the text of the book the way Ann Coulter renders her worthless opinion: in a fugly manner that makes me want to smash the both of them against a big brick wall. Chip Kidd (a god in the graphic design world, and rightfully so) has given a brief FuckOff to it, right here. Except that he’s more tactful than I am (unlike the balloon quote he wrote in my copy of Uncovered).

4. Mick Huckabee, along with his current state at the top of the Iowa caucus, is snowballinglly** retarded. What’s even more depressing is the endorsement he just got from Jerry Falwell Jr.; a dumbass of the greatest degree who’s fallen about as close to the tree as Hank “My Favorite Actress is Jennifer Love Hewitt”*** Steinbrenner.

5. It sucks to be a Knicks fan, and it must suck even more to be a Knicks beat writer.

Things to be happy about had to exist, so I hid them down here:

6. It it weren’t for his turns as a member of Thugnificent’s crew on The Boondocks, I’d have completely written Busta Rhymes off. Thankfully, he’s helped MC and helm a mix tape in tribute to J. Dilla that is honestly really great. Busta made a good album. I know, I don’t know what will happen next either. It’s free, here, at http://www.mickboogie.com/

7. Tina Fey is optimistic that the writer’s strike will end in a week or so. I don’t know if she’ll be right, but I really fucking hope that things work out for the guild.

8. And something that really got some glee out of yours truly: two minutes from the Hot Chip song “Ready For The Floor” which will be off their next LP, Made in the Dark. Ho these guys look so stereotypically hipstery and can actually be talented surprises even yours truly, currently living in Williamsburg and hating almost everyone there.

*No, I’m not kidding, “Solid Gold” is the “name” of the issue. Also, chalk up the second copy to a clerical error on The Fader’s part.

**See Clerks and look up the word Momentum.

***Quoting a New York Post interview, which I would never link to:

“Q: We see you in the newspaper with a cigarette in your mouth.
A: It’s not a good example for kids. It’s something I need to quit soon. My children are starting to get concerned and are trying to get me to quit.
Q: How much do you smoke?
A: About a pack a day.
Q: Three dinner guests?
A: Napoleon; Einstein; Mozart.
Q: Favorite movie?
A: “The Magnificent Seven.”
Q: Favorite actor?
A: Steve McQueen.
Q: Favorite actress?
A: Jennifer Love Hewitt.”