Showing posts with label The Young Turks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Young Turks. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 8, 2020

Goodbye Bill Maher


***GOODBYE BILL MAHER***

I’ve had this topic idea on the shelf for over a year now. Anyone who’s known me for a long time knows that Bill Maher was at one point one of my favorite comedians and political commentators. I saw him perform in Seattle in 2013, which was also the same night where we couldn’t find the car afterwards, but that has nothing to do with this post. So when I finally say goodbye to Bill Maher in 2019, you know he must have done something incredibly shitty in order to lose my respect. Actually, it wasn’t just one thing he said or did. It slowly built up over the last few years. And yeah, one could argue that he was always obnoxious and bigoted from the beginning, but it wasn’t really noticeable until the latter years of the 2010’s. So…where do I start this lovely story?

In 2006, of course. That was when I saw my first episode of Real Time with Bill Maher. I can’t remember for the life of me what some of his jokes or talking points were, but I found them fucking hilarious and on-point. I decided from that point going forward that I would make watching his show a weekly ritual. Despite all of the wacky conservatives he sometimes invited on his panel, the show overall was fun to watch, especially the New Rules segment.

New Rule: You can’t bring a firearm to Wendy’s unless you plan to rob it. You’re not a gun enthusiast. You’re an ammosexual. If you want to die at Wendy’s so badly, you’ll have to do it the old fashioned way by eating their food.

New Rule: Couples who make out in public have to bring a bucket for me to throw up in. I didn’t come all the way to Applebee’s to be sickened by your dry humping. I came all the way to Applebee’s to be sickened by their food.

New Rule: Ice cream should stay nonpartisan. Some rightwingers decided to make ice cream to counter the lefties at Ben & Jerry’s with flavors like Gun Nut, Plane Vanilla, and Smaller Govern-Mint. But these conservatives are missing the point of Ben & Jerry’s. Hippie ice cream is fun because you eat it when you’re stoned.

New Rule: If churches don’t have to pay taxes, they also can’t call the fire department when they catch on fire. Sorry Reverend, but that’s one of those services that comes with paying in. I’ll use the fire department that I pay for. You can pray for rain.

Thirteen years I stuck with Bill Maher through the good and the bad. He entertained me, he strengthened by talking points, and I felt more alive having watched his shows. But then…something happened. Again, maybe he was always an obnoxious person and I didn’t notice it until now, but over the past few years, he had gotten worse. He began to criticize millennials. He began to make transphobic arguments. He rallied against vaccines. He fat-shamed people in the name of “good health”. He did all of these things behind a mask of virtue. He marketed himself as a liberal hero even though he’s actually a capitalist libertarian. I hung on his every word because of that. If anyone else had said the things he did, I would have given up on them sooner. But coming from Bill Maher, I secretly hoped it was a one-time thing that we could disagree on.

But the god-awful remarks weren’t one-offs. They happened over and over again across multiple shows, sometimes in succession. I kept struggling to find counterpoints to his arguments, not because I was wrong in my beliefs, but because his disgusting shit was stressing me the fuck out. He called millennials lazy and entitled (therefore proving his own point that ageism is the last acceptable prejudice we have). He called fat people virgins who couldn’t see their own dicks. He said transgender athletes were ruining sports (even though the sports were already boring with or without their participation). He referred to Caitlyn Jenner by masculine pronouns. If I listed off all of Bill Maher’s sins against my ears, we’d be here forever and a day.

But one night in January 2019 made me turn off the TV forever. I can’t remember the exact date, but Bill Maher did a New Rules segment where he basically exploited Stan Lee’s death. In criticizing comic book fans, he said, “I’m not happy that he’s dead; I’m sad that you’re all alive.” He took the role of creative gatekeeper, denouncing genre fiction (sci-fi, fantasy, romance, etc.) and exalting literary fiction no matter how boring it was. In that one segment, Bill Maher took a big dump on everything that I love as a creative writer. He shamed nerds for being passionate about what they love and told them to, “Grow up.” After that segment was mercifully over, I tapped out. No more Bill Maher for me. My parents still watch him, but I don’t. I can’t associate myself with people who demand conformity from their audience.

Ever since I cut myself off from Bill Maher’s content, I’ve never been happier. Of course, there will be people who insist I watch his show anyways so that I can get new perspectives and strengthen my debating skills. But what’s the point of strengthening my debating skills if the other side won’t listen? Bill Maher criticizes millennials all the time for being unable to take a joke, yet here he is deflecting criticism himself. He’s against cancel culture, yet doesn’t mind canceling people who disagree with him. I purposefully avoid political debates with even my closest friends, because in the end, it’s not productive and only results in furious anger on both sides. I want to be open-minded, but I’m not sure people like Bill Maher want to do that themselves. Open-mindedness is a two-way street. If I have to listen to your bigoted garbage, you have to listen to my talking points too. If debate can’t be a two-way street for me, then I’ll turn it into a no-way street. How’s that?

Bill Maher influenced my sense of humor in the early days of his show. I don’t regret that. I also don’t regret leaving him for higher ground. There are so many great comedians and pundits out there. John Oliver is one of them and he’s on the same channel as Bill Maher, if you can believe that. He’s delightfully British, ridiculously funny, and has a healthy dose of self-awareness. What about The Young Turks? They’re not comedians, but their talking points are strong as hell, almost bulletproof. Their skin is so thick that they welcome debate because they know they can win. Samantha Bee? Not nearly as funny as John Oliver, but she’s entertaining all the same. You might have to go out of your way to find alternatives to Bill Maher, but they exist and you’ll be grateful you did.

So…I’m going to close this by saying goodbye one last time to one of my all-time favorite influences. Goodbye, Bill Maher. We’ve had a good run together. You used to be cool. But I don’t like the person you’ve become. I don’t expect you to change your ways anytime soon. No, I don’t want you to be canceled. You don’t have to lose your job over the things you’ve said. All I’ll ever ask from you is self-awareness. If you’re going to be a shitty person, admit it to your audience and don’t hide behind a mask of liberalism. You won’t do that, though, because you’re stuck in your ways. Maybe it’s a Boomer thing, I don’t know. I guess that makes ageism “the last acceptable prejudice we have”. Then again, you started that war, so don’t be upset when you’re the one who has to finish it. Goodbye. Goodbye and forever!


***QUOTE OF THE DAY***

It has been said, 'the truth will make men free.' The truth alone has never made anyone free. It is only doubt which will bring mental emancipation.”

-Anton LaVey-

Friday, July 26, 2019

Toll Free Call


VERSE 1
It’s a toll free call in a free country
Please give us all of your hush money
Don’t lawyer up or try anything funny
Or we’ll be Elmer Fudd to your Bugs Bunny

VERSE 2
It’s a toll free call from Synchrony Bank
“Of course!” said a Young Turk named Cenk
Preying on the poor like it’s some kind of war
It’s really getting old, let’s go ahead and snore

VERSE 3
It’s a toll free call from Washington State
The kind that will stimulate your rage and hate
Don’t you wish you could reach through the phone
And snap the robo caller’s pencil neck bone?

VERSE 4
It’s a toll free call from the Russian president
Or a North Korean dictator that hell has sent
Or a Saudi Arabian prince who wants to convince
You to vote against your wishes in words not minced

VERSE 5
Rip the goddamn cable right out of the wall
And never ever get another toll free call
Tell your phone company they can suck a big one
If they want to go to war, then have some bloody fun

Monday, January 14, 2019

No Filter


***NO FILTER***

You wouldn’t know this from some of the politically liberal short stories and poems I post on a regular basis…but I fucking hate debating. I told you all before about the woes of my opponent having more talking points than me. I might have even mentioned something about scrambling for an answer and getting nothing. But here’s something you probably didn’t know about me until now: I have no filter for the bullshit that enters my mind. It could be an autistic thing. It could be a schizophrenic thing. Maybe I’m just really fucking sensitive. But whenever an opposing talking point enters my mind, the most important organ in my body doesn’t seem to want to do its job of filtering out the horseshit. It stays with me just like any other stimulus, because my mind takes in everything all at once and doesn’t quiet the fuck down for just one minute.

It’s because of this that I purposefully go out of my way to avoid watching conservative or religious videos on You Tube. I also skip over conservative memes on Face Book by averting my eyes and scrolling down as fast as I can. I’m sure you’ve seen some of the titles of the You Tube videos by now:

“Ben Shapiro DESTROYS transgender teenager with just one Tweet!”

“Ronda Rousey SHUTS DOWN feminist in just one minute!”

“Jordan Peterson DESTROYS this and that! He DESTROYS Mickey Mouse! He DESTROYS Hulk Hogan! He DESTROYS EVERYTHING!”

You’d think with all of this destruction going on that there’d be more settled debates in this world. Nope. They just keep talking…and talking…and talking…and talking. They keep talking because they have stronger filters than I do. Me? I have to constantly be on my toes when it comes to brainwashing and loss of individuality, so I scroll by the DESTROY videos as quickly as possible.

“But, Garrison! You have to challenge yourself! You can’t live in an echo chamber!”

For all intents and purposes, both of those phrases are correct. However, when you consider the source of that compound quote, you begin to realize that whoever said it probably lives in an echo chamber of his own. Open-mindedness is supposed to be a two way street. If I have to be open to the other side’s ideas, they have to be open to mine too. But being open-minded doesn’t mean agreeing with everything the other side says with one-hundred percent submission. Open-mindedness simply means giving the debater a chance. What he does with that chance is beyond your control, but if he blows his chance, that’s it.

I’ve given a thousand chances to a thousand debaters. Any stubbornness I showed towards them had to be worked for, because my filter for BS is weak as shit. Some talking points are easier to resist than others, but the lazy-ass filter is the common denominator. It’s amazing that I didn’t become a cultist right away. Actually, I probably would have resisted joining a cult, but I wouldn’t have the debating skills or quick answers necessary to strike down their talking points. That’s the thing with debates: if you don’t answer in, let’s say, five seconds or less, you automatically lose. You don’t get to think about it. You don’t get to mull it over and come back with a completed homework assignment. It’s now or never.

If you’re reading this and you think I’m ripe for the picking for your zealous cause, do me a favor: don’t even try. Just give up. Because my filter sucks ass, I’m more prone to shut you out despite not giving you a chance. You won’t get philosophical talking points from me, just curse words and waves goodbye. I know this seems close-minded and that’s generally considered a bad thing. I know my responsibility as a pundit is to research my arguments and use my knowledge to shut down opposing talking points. But I don’t have it in me to DESTROY anybody, at least not within the five-second timeframe required to respond in a debate. The natural answer for me would be to just stop writing poems and stories about politics, but…that’s just not going to happen. I care too much.

If I refuse to engage in a debate with you, it’s nothing personal and it’s not an indication of surrender. It’s because my filter for BS can’t be bothered to work overtime for the Ben Shapiros, Charlie Kirks, and Milo Yiannopouloses of the world. Even if I promised my filter a private jet, healthcare benefits, and a vacation in Hawaii, I wouldn’t be able to convince it to work for me the way it does for the Cenk Uygurs and Rachel Maddows of the world. In other words, you won’t see You Tube videos with any of these titles…

“Garrison Kelly DESTROYS the establishment!”

“Garrison Kelly DESTROYS the corporations!”

“Garrison Kelly DESTROYS EVERYTHING IN SIGHT! RAAAAAAAAAWR!!”

What is this, a fucking Godzilla movie? Does everything have to be destroyed?


***BEAUTIFUL MONSTER***

My next assignment for this ongoing rewrite is chapter nine, where Windham and Tarja walk through the forest together for more thought-provoking conversations (they won’t need their weak-ass filters, though). The day’s topic of choice: dreams and ambitions. Windham wants to be an artist of all genres while Tarja wants to care for fuzzy animal babies. There’s even going to be a scene where Tarja feeds walnuts to the squirrels and she offers Windham a carrot to give to a rabbit. If you’re wondering where the hell all the action is, keep in mind that Beautiful Monster is a drama first and a historical fantasy second. But if it’s action you want…you’ll have to wait until the end of the chapter! No, not that kind of action, you perv! They’re just friends! Jesus Christ, man!


***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“I’m just a-wandering on the face of this earth meeting so many people who are trying to be free. And while I’m traveling, I hear so many words. Language barriers broken, now we’ve found the key. And if you want the winds of change to blow around you and you’re the only other person to know, please tell me. I’m just a singer in a rock n’ roll band. A thousand pictures can be drawn from one word, only who is the artist? We’ve got to agree. A thousand miles can lead so many ways. Just to know who is driving, what a help it would be. And if you want this world of yours to turn around you and you can see exactly what to do, don’t tell me. I’m just a singer in a rock and roll band. Why can’t we understand? Riots by the people for the people who are only destroying themselves. And if you see a frightened person who was frightened by the people who are scorching this earth. Music is the traveler crossing our world, meeting so many people, bridging the seas. I’m just a singer in a rock n’ roll band. We’re all just singers in a rock n’ roll band.”

-The Moody Blues singing “I’m Just a Singer in a Rock n’ Roll Band”-

Sunday, October 15, 2017

Dumb Ass Shit

***DUMB ASS SHIT***

One of the things we share as human beings is a tendency to make mistakes, especially during our younger years when we’re just figuring out the world. To put it in harsher terms, we’ve all said and done…say it with me…dumb ass shit. Nobody is immune to this, because nobody is perfect. As long as you don’t cross the Moral Event Horizon (rape, murder, etc.), you’re entitled to make these little mistakes that you can learn from. If you’ve ever watched a Young Turks video where they’re discussing a teenaged subject, you’ll notice that the pundits can be forgiving of them because they too said and did…say it again…dumb ass shit when they were younger.

Yes, it’s true, ladies and gentlemen: I too have a history of saying and doing dumb ass shit, especially as it relates to the internet. I’ve looked back at some of the things I’ve posted on my Deviant Art, Blogger, and Face Book accounts and I wonder what the hell I was thinking. I could just delete these posts, but seeing as how there are so fucking many of them, it’ll take more time than I care to spend. Many of the things I’ve posted could be construed as bigoted in some way, though my intentions were only to be “edgy” or “funny”. I just read a nonfiction essay I wrote in 2009 called “Class of ‘13” where I accuse teenagers of being text-messaging queens that need strict discipline. Holy shit, did I really expect people to laugh at that? What about Hardcore Harry, a Harry Potter parody where the main character says he’s afraid of Draco Malfoy’s “homosexual urges”. Shaking my head, folks. Shaking my head.

Apparently, it took me a long time for me to mature throughout the years, because I’ve been saying dumb shit in 2014 as well. My blogger.com posts at the time were riddled with depressing anecdotes about songs that made me cry or romantic couples in fiction that made me wish I had love too. One of my now deleted books, Foe vs. Blade, has an introductory chapter where I list off all of the major bad shit that’s happened in my life from high school until the date of publication. It wasn’t until 2015 that I started posting about positive things in my life and, surprise, surprise, I became a happier person because of it. I knew Rhonda Byrne’s book would come in handy someday.

So, I don’t know if you the audience plan on digging through my internet postings, but if you see something buried beneath the happy and accepting stuff that could be construed as “dumb ass shit”, know that I am no longer proud of such things. Being “edgy” isn’t nearly as important as being intelligent and wise. Even the edgiest of edgy artists have to have a reason for their R-rated jokes. I’ve said and done my fair share of stupid shit in my life and I’ve learned from all of it. This is not a cheap attempt at obtaining forgiveness, but if I keep kicking myself over these things, then I’m forever stuck in the past. We can all grow from our mistakes and become decent people.

I figured writing this blog would be easier than going through my internet history and wiping it clean of…say it again…dumb ass shit. But even if I was able to give my internet history the Mr. Clean treatment, there’s that old adage of things being on the internet forever. So instead, I’m going to say this: I’m sorry for all the dumb ass shit. It’s not me, it’s not who I want to be, and it’s not important to my career. Let’s move forward. We’ve got ears, say cheers!


***POISON TONGUE TALES 2: THE RIGHT TO REMAIN PSYCHOTIC***

As long as we’re on the topic of dumb ass shit, here’s something I attempted months ago, but never got off the ground. It’s called “Hardcore Hogan” (not to be confused with “Hardcore Harry”) and it goes like this:

CHARACTERS:

  1. Garrison Kelly, Captured Earthling
  2. Hardcore Hogan, Garrison’s Alter Ego
  3. Kasabian, Alien Lord
  4. Random Squid-Faced Alien Warriors

PROMPT CONFORMITY: To be announced.

SYNOPSIS: Garrison wakes up one day and finds himself in an alien ship’s prison cell. He has no idea what he’s doing there, but when he tries to shake the bars and complain, he gets electrocuted by the guards. Just when he is about to give in, he finds the Hall of Fame ring of his favorite professional wrestler Hardcore Hogan in the corner of the cell. When Garrison puts the ring on, he transforms into the muscular wrestler and puts a beating on the aliens after ripping the bars off the cell door. Kasabian serves as his final enemy and the only person who could possibly explain why Garrison/Hogan is on this ship to begin with.


***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“There are some large groups out there whose names are a little mixed up. The Department of Water and Power. Well, water and power don’t go together, ‘cause you’ll get fucking electrocuted. Then you have the Food and Drug Administration. Well, with most drugs, you don’t have any food, except for marijuana, but they shouldn’t be bothering people with marijuana to begin with. And then you have that really interesting organization, the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms. Do I even have to discuss this one? Bad combination. Here’s what you do. You call the police the Department of Power and Firearms. Then you have the Food and Water Administration. Those are two things you need to survive: food and water. And then you have the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Drugs, which keeps all the good shit in one place.


-George Carlin-