Posts Tagged ‘retarded awesomeness’

Sarah Palin Defends Russia Comment Two Years On

February 3rd, 2011 1 comment

In case you haven’t noticed, Sarah Palin is the best damn thing to happen to social networking since Friendster. Her random Tweets enriched the English language as much as Shakespeare’s sonnets — maybe more, since they’re far more inventive. But nowadays she mostly seems to link to Facebook.

And the best thing about Gov. Palin is that she still spends most of her time defending herself against the media.

Her Facebook post that makes me happiest was about two months ago. She made it on Halloween, in fact. More than two years after she made that initial boneheaded claim that her foreign policy expertise was assured because there are parts of Alaska where you can see Russia, Sarah Palin repeated her claim on Facebook, and posted a photograph of a guy freezing his ass off just to prove it.

She’s obviously gearing up for the 2012 election, where she plans to pwn Obama’s stand on the healthcare bill by arguing about whether she really reads every newspaper published.

Now, let’s clear something up: To be excruciatingly fair to Governor Palin, she never said she could see Russia from her house. That was Tina Fey, impersonating her on Saturday Night Live. What Palin said was, “They’re our next-door neighbors. And you can actually see Russia from land here in Alaska.” And she was responding to ABC’s Charlie Gibson, who had specifically asked her what insights into Russian politics the proximity of Russia gave her. Honestly, if you need to misconstrue things Palin said in order to find things to make fun of her for, you’re not paying attention.

But none of that makes it any less fun to relive those glory days back in ought-eight when Spanish-based American expat blogger Erik Rasmussen debunked “Palin’s claim” on his blog.

Did it matter that he was really debunking Tina Fey pretending to be Sarah Palin? Not even a little bit, because Palin was speaking metaphorically, and so I’m speaking metaphorically when I claim that Sarah Palin lives on the Space Shuttle and always has. Erik was speaking more literally, but who cares? He used his own distance to horizon calculator to determine that Palin would have to live at an altitude of 101 kilometers to see the Russian mainland from the closest-to-Russia of her two houses. Says Erik:

Partial screencap of a NOAA image.

Just how high is 101 km? This graphic from Wikipedia puts it in perspective very well.

0.381 km – The top of the Empire State Building
8.848 km – The top of Mount Everest
10.668 km – Jet airliner cruising altitude
100 km – The  Kármán Line that marks the border of “outer space”
101 km – Sarah Palin’s house
185 km – Space Shuttle operation


What Erik doesnt’ tell you is that 101 kilometers would put Gov. Palin right about in the middle of the Aurora Borealis, which would surely help her understanding of foreign policy as well.

Now, again, Palin never claimed she lived within sight of Russia. But she did sort of imply that you could see Russia Russia, as in the Russian mainland. This photo (and other information) purports to establish that it is, in fact, just barely possible.

However, in order to obtain photographic proof that she’s not batshit crazy, Gov. Palin has produced a photograph of a guy standing on one of the most remote corners of the globe — which is to say, one of the most remote corners of Alaska, which is the largest state in the Union and one of only seven states with populations under a million, so she’s already pushing it.

The island the guy is standing on is not entirely clear given the garbled caption, but what the Governor means to say is “This man is standing on Little Diomedes, an Alaskan Island, and over his shoulder you can see Big Diomedes, a Russian island, and the Russian mainland beyond that.”

From the looks of this guy’s blissful grimace, the island is fantastically scenic and butt cold — in other words, all-American. This map pretty much spells it out.

The caption claims you can see the Russian mainland behind Big Diomedes, but all I see is a kind of tan-colored blur. This Slate article points to a NY Times article that claims you can also see the Russian mainland from the high ground on the tip of Alaska’s St. Lawrence Island.

Touché, Governor Palin. Touché.

Of course, the real point is that Palin made a boneheaded assertion that is of no relevance whatsoever. She was talking out her ass, which is a time-honored custom among American politicians.

But then, I’m sure if the Russians invade Georgia again, or anything like that, Palin can just engage in another time-honored American custom.

She can walk over with a casserole and knock on their door — which apparently can be done from mid-December to mid-June. The water between Big Diomedes and Little Diomedes freezes enough to support a person’s weight. Touché redux, Gov!

New Jersey County Salts Roads With Pickle Juice

January 30th, 2011 1 comment

Public domain Dept. of Health and Human Services photo.

…commenters on the story turn out to be (wait for it!)…douchebags.

If, like me, you’re still anxiously glued to the news about Egypt, perhaps a little diversion into weird news will allay your anxieties. Or will it?

Bergen County, New Jersey, has run out of money to salt the roads during this exceptionally severe winter. Their solution? Using pickle juice, which runs about $16 a ton, cheaper than the $63 a ton of road salt costs them.

For those of you living in warm climes who have never heard that satisfying crunch beneath your tires, salt helps melt snow because salt water freezes at a lower temperature than fresh water. The science of it is pretty interesting if you’re a complete dw33b, like say yours truly. Calcium chloride is preferred to sodium chloride (table salt, or pickle juice) because calcium chloride releases heat when it combines with water — voila! It melts more snow. Calcium chloride also does less environmental damage. But sodium chloride was used for years, and will do in a pinch — even if it’s in pickle juice.

Sounds simple, right? Great idea, right? Something we can all agree on, right? Wrong. Read more…

Nic Cage Back From Hell; Scenery Everywhere Quavers in Terror

January 20th, 2011 1 comment

Crime writer Donald E. Westlake once described his favorite novelist, Peter Rabe, as the author of the “best books with the worst titles ever written.” Whoever wrote a screenplay and called it Drive Angry is in the same boat, except possibly for the “best movie” part, from the looks of this trailer. Not that that’s necessarily a problem.

Or, as HitFix puts it: “What? It looks trashy, you say? Well, yes it does. That’s why we go.” The film comes out in the U.S. on February 25.

But I just can’t get over that title; who the hell signed off on that? Writing and producing trash frees a filmmaker or novelist to come up with the most exquisite titles in history. Like, for instance, Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things. The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies. Mother, May I Sleep with Danger? None But the Lethal Heart. The True Son of the Beast. I Dismember Mama. The Case of The Kidnapped Porn Starlet. Or I Killed My Lesbian Wife, Hung Her on a Meat Hook, and Now I Have a Three-Picture Deal at Disney. Which, no, I didn’t make up. Ben Affleck did.
So who thought “Drive Angry” would get the point across?

But wait. Let’s get back to the “film” itself. The basic premise is that Nicolas Cage escapes from Hell to avenge his daughter’s sacrificial murder at the hands of a Satanic cult, and to prevent that same cult from sacrificing his granddaughter. Are you with me? He’s pursued by a Satanic operative named “The Accountant,” played by William Fichtner.

Here’s more about it from HitFix:

In [this clip], named ‘Hydrogen truck rampage‘ the satanic Fichtner cheerfully brings a truck filed with very explosive Hydrogen to a police roadblock…the tone is irreverent and rockabilly. This clip reinforces the ‘over the top’ message that all other previews and press materials have been sending. No, it’s not Oscar-bait.

If the impossible car stunt left you wanting, check out the RED BAND trailer [at the bottom of this post]. It is not safe for work at all, and is entitled ‘Gunfight Sex’ which pretty much explains it all. You’ve been warned.


And we have been warned, but you don’t really get the sense of how trashy the Gunfight Sex clip is until you enter your birthdate. That’s how extra-feelthy this is. For those who don’t wish to subject themselves to such craptacular gun-fu-slash-sex-fu, I braved it for ya. Having gone there, I can tell you that the more srsly you take this movie, the more insane you would have to be. Srsly.

Trashy? Yes, yes that is why we go. And with a pedigree like this, how could you not!?!? Drive Angry, which incidentally is BEING RELEASED IN FUCKING 3D, is directed by Patrick Lussier, a sort of Wes Craven protege, and written by Lussier and Todd Farmer, author of Jason X (the tenth Friday the 13th movie — “Kill her, Mommy!!!!”) and the 2009 remake of  the 1981 Canadian slasher flick My Bloody Valentine. Is this gonna be quality cinema, or what? Gee, it’s almost like seeing a movie, except you need a shower afterwards.

Now…don’t get me wrong. Writing franchise work is a time-honored way to get those things called “landlords” off your back, so I respect it. And as a big fan of the action-horror genre, I expect a certain bouquet of trash when I visit the cinema with the express purpose of seeing heads blown open like casaba melons. And Rockabilly From Hell? Mas oui. Bring dat shit on.

But the esteemed Mr. Cage, in my opinion, has not been turning out the quality action-trash lately. He hit a recent terrifyingly brief artistic stride as Fu Manchu in the Grindcore trailer for Werewolf Women of the SS, sure. But National Treasure? National BALLS. Gone in 60 Seconds? Asleep in 60 Seconds. Ghost Rider? Choad Rider. And as for Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans? Um…duh-HUH? The very concept of that thing terrifies me so much I can’t even bring myself to look at the box, and I’m not talking about that flavorful fright that apes the sensation of skeletal fingers crawling up your back — I’m talking, how loud can I scream WHAT THE FUCK!?!? ‘Cause I’d like to scream it exactly that loud.

Let’s tell it like it is, though. All this bellyaching about “quality cinema” comes from a man who thinks Brides of Dracula is the goddamn living end. I used to drive twenty minutes just to rent bizarre Italian Giallo movies VHS-taped from Hungarian dubs off of Swedish TV, all on the promise that some unlucky starlet and her oversexed boyfriend would, at 12 minutes 16 seconds or thereabouts, be the subject of a particularly gruesome celluloid demise involving bulletproof glass and a meat cleaver. So who am I to throw stones?

Just to make things extra-sweet, did I mention — I think I musta — that the Operative of Satan tryna track Saint Nic down is played by none other than William Fichtner…? Fichtner hit his career pinnacle, in my opinion, in 1999′s brilliant rave-thriller Go, when he made Scott Wolf smell him by way of selling the poor bastard Amway. (Spoiler alert: It worked. Spoiler alert: I pee my pants every time).

But just having William Fichtner play a Satan Commando isn’t enough to make me totally happy about this flick. That part’s taken care of by the fact that his character is named “The Accountant.”

Oh, Lord have mercy: the snooty American Studies whackjobs are lining up to slice-and-dice this one six ways from Walpurchisnacht.

Let the mayhem begin, bubba.

Phobias of World Leaders

January 3rd, 2011 No comments

Bush Cowboy Hat

This post isn’t brand new, but it’s great – Foreign Policy looked at the real – debilitating – phobias of world leaders. Did you know that cowboy Bush is so afraid of horses he can’t go near them? Dictators who callously end people’s lives in prison camps but can’t get on airplanes… Just, wow.

Link: Profiles in Phobia (

Techyum Loves The Derp Memebase

December 30th, 2010 3 comments

It’s okay if you don’t know what this means. Derp is a feeling, a state of mind. It also stands for Drug Effectiveness Review Project (mmm, spoonful of drugs), which makes total sense. We at Techderp are here to help: read the definition below and then prepare to have your nostrils become pressurized twin beverage cannons when you go visit The Derp Memebase. Ready, aim…

1. The word that describes a particularly retarded face.

2. “Derp is an expression sometimes used online to signify stupidity, much like the earlier forms of “duh” and “dur.” One of the first recorded instances of the term “derp” comes from a short-lived South Park character, Mr. Derp.

Definition #2 is from Know Your Meme, which has this great derp page and is hard at derp researching and evaluating herpa derpiness.

Thanks, Ms. Naughty!

Skank Ass Beverage No Longer the Scourge of the Nation — Phew!!

November 17th, 2010 2 comments

"Four Loko: The worst beverage ever." Creative Commons photo by Brian.

Was that close or what? Upon hearing this morning that one of my friends in Louisiana was hung over after getting royally effed up on something called “Four Loko,” aka “Blackout in a Can,” I said to myself, “Hallucinations!!??!! Only legal in California and Louisiana!!??!! Sign me up!!”

I mean, those are the only two states I’ve ever lived in, and let me tell you, both locations remain a little fuzzy. California voters just refused to legalize pot, and for a significant portion of them, it’s not because they don’t approve of it; it’s because they don’t want to place a tax burden on their own revenue stream. Plus, here in Cali there are Jamba Juices on every corner, just in case you’re both health-conscious and need 140 grams of sugar to get going in the morning after a long hard night of laughing your ass off at the Diff’Rent Strokes marathon on Nick at Nite.

As for those cats in Louisiana? They believe freedom comes from the paper twist atop the straw of a Mango-Chocolate Mint Wedding Cake drive-through daquiri, with a Protein Boost.

Intoxicants? Tasty beverages? We gots dem.

Well, Four Loko is custom-made to happify residents of both states, provided they can get high enough to ever buy this crap in the first place. But believe me, if you can choke down a case or two of blue raspberry Loko, you will have a hell of a time, citizens. Not only will you get “smoothed out” by the 12% alcohol (courtesy of malt, as in malt liquor), but the caffeine will make you jittery, as one 16-year old told the NY Daily News.

Now on my fourth latte of the morning, I’m thrilled to have today’s well-informed teens to set me straight on such matters.

Oh, and it causes hallucinations. Did I mention that part? Read more…

Minnesota Congressional Campaign Conjures the Spirit of 1999

October 15th, 2010 No comments

The campaign of Democrat Tarryl Clark, challenging Republican Michelle Bachmann for Minnesota’s 6th Congressional seat, has married the interactive brilliance of Barack Obama Is Your New Bicycle and the modular philosophies of the Goth Quote Generator with the incisive social commentary of Tina the Troubled Teen.

Tempting voters with Facebook ads, the campaign has oh-so-cleverly acquired the rights to a still image of “Jim the Election Guy,” the paid actor who stands there and accuses Tarryl of loving taxes in the now-Internet-famous Michelle Bachmann attack ad from which the above still is taken. (Either that, or they just screencapped that shit and figured no one would sue them).

See how it’s done? Plug in some random dadaist phrases and voila! Let the Web 2.0 political hilarity begin!

Just enter your info, and Jim the Election guy says something bad about you. I swear — first I peed myself laughing, and then I thought long and hard about whether Washington is really working for us or not. See if you have the same experience:

You folks remember The Honorable Michelle Bachmann, don’t you? Page through your Wing Nut files and you’ll find her marked “CUCKOO!!!!!!” right between Erich Von Daniken and Anne Heche. Bachmann is the Congressional Representative who evoked the ghost of Joe McCarthy by calling for the investigation of members of Congress to see if they were anti-American. She actually started the whole “Obama Death Panel” meme before Sarah Palin hopped on board. She suggested that AmeriCorps amounted to political-correctness “re-education camps” for young people. She also doesn’t go to debates, apparently. She’s a peach.

You pretty much get the gist of the original Bachmann ad from the screencap at the top of this post. But if you’re a glutton for punishment, it’s somewhat amusing to watch, if only for its goofiness.

Now don’t you feel like the promise of technology has intelligentized the political discourse?

Dream Water: Drink to Dream

September 18th, 2010 1 comment

Remember the cataclysmic cultural change that was “caffeinated water”? Well, apparently such jack-you-up water products as Water Joe and Fyxx Hybrid are just a little too nerve-wracking for today’s slacker culture. Dream water to the rescue! That’s right! It’s a delicious new way to get to sleep! Drink Dream Water and you, too, can be a tie-tie bun-bun.

How many times have I followed this company’s motto? “Drink to dream.” Too many times to count! In fact, I seem to remember that being the title of a Tom Waits out-take played on jaw harp and broken bottle. But I’m relieved to hear that Thunderbird and Rebel Yell bourbon are no longer the only libations that’ll help me saw the heck out of a few logs. Dream Water is here to help.

Featuring THIS arresting image from the Aldous Huxley/George Orwell/District 9 Clip Art Collection, informs me that I can get a “Free Snoozeberry Shot” — “A free sample today may deliver sound sleep tomorrow,” which tells me they’ve never ordered a free sample of anything by fourth-class mail.

What exactly packs Dream Water’s crisp, clean taste with so many Z’s? The answer is a simple “Gamma-Amino Butyric Acid, Melatonin, and 5HTP,” all of which are commonly-available over-the-counter supplements that for years have provided in-the-know alt-med practitioners with the kind of all-natural non-habit-forming chill-out assistance for which, back in the day, prior generations used to turn to Quaaludes, morphine and heroin. But now it’s in water. The same sort-of-all-natural stuff you can buy on the vitamin aisle at your local drug store can now be guzzled down almost as if it were a new product, rather than something some jackass dumped into a vat of tap water and shipped to your doorstep while laughing his ass off all the way to the bank.

And the really good news is that even though American consumers may finally be cluing in to the idea that they’re double-spending by blowing municipal resources on making their tap water safe and then buying bottled water because (left wing version) “You just never know what’s in the water!” or (right wing version) “Obama’s putting fluoride in it!” the profits of the giant corporations that manufacture non-biodegradable bottles out of petrochemicals will remain secure.

It’s also nice to know our descendants will remember us. In fact, they’ll never be able to take a step without kicking their way through discarded plastic bottles, thus being reminded of poor old great-great-Gramps who apparently needed to chug down six bottles of Dream Water every night to get to sleep because he was so stressed out about his generation having fucked up the environment.

Cause, y’know, what’s the one thing a body needs as much as food and nice fresh clean water? That’s right. Sleep.

It’s thoughtfully provided, now, at a Wal-Mart near you.

Tweeting Can Be Very Damaging to Your health

August 18th, 2010 No comments

“He lived up in Malibu on a tiny street and he was texting while driving and he accidentally went over the cliff”

Proof that the Darwin Awards need a category for smart people who remove themselves from the gene-pool anyway, news reaches us that Dr. Frank Ryan, plastic surgeon to Heidi Montag and other celebrities, was sending a Twitter message about his border collie just before his car went careering over the side of a cliff in Malibu, CA.

Jill, the dog, was in the car at the time of the crash and survived injuries to the head, eye and paw. Awww, bless.

See more at Dlisted. Via @Dane

Do You Need an Exorcism? Take the Quiz!

August 8th, 2010 No comments

Imagine my chagrin this morning when I saw perched ominously atop my usual stack of Gmails complaining about my use of extreme profanity on Good Reads, a Google text ad: “Hearing Random Voices? – Take the Demon Test To Find Out Now If You’re In Need of an Exorcism!”

Um, excuse me, but — like I need a “Demon Test” to tell me if I’m in need of an exorcism? I was a kid in the ’70s. I know fucking well that if I need an exorcism, I won’t get a memo from the Jesus Freaks; the spewing pea soup and a higher-than-usual quantity of priests hurtling out my window will probably be my first clues.

Had I not thought to myself, “What part of the country produces numbskulls like this” and run a WhoIs on the URL, I might have actually have imagined I was turning into a Giant Slug like Leslie Nielsen in this second-season Night Gallery episode I still occasionally have nightmares about. The answer is, Santa Monica, which is a dead giveaway.

Have you ever been to Santa Monica? It is about a hundred feet square and its most notable features are a carousel and a Ferris wheel. There are no crazy religious people in Santa Monica; the wackiest churches there believe perfectly reasonable things about how the President of the Galactic Federation brought billions of people to Earth in DC-8′s and blew them up using hydrogen bombs. All the holy rollers are elsewhere in Los Angeles County.

Santa Monica? You know who’s in Santa Monica? Strike Entertainment, apparently, who screened the Eli Roth produced mockumentary horror flick The Last Exorcism at Sundance et al, and are releasing it August 27. Read more…