Friday, January 29, 2010

Best Reason to Hate "Avatar"?

Lowbrow Answer: The Story Sucked
Newflash, Dill-Hole. Every single movie is just an amalgamation of a bunch of other movies. You noticed that "Avatar" is exactly like "Dances with Wolves" and "Fern Gully?" Congratulations, Sherlock. You should be a detective. Maybe you can finally figure out why Mary Kate Olsen looks so much like Ashley Olsen. That one has stumped me for years.

Who cares about story anyhow? You want a good story, go read a book. Going to the movies for a good story is like going to a Britney Spears concert for a good song. You just aren't going to get one. Just sit back, stop whining, and get busy creaming yourself over how amazing the graphics are. You terd.


Middlebrow Answer: The Casting was Weird
Okay, I'll admit. It's a little fishy that all the aliens are played by minority actors while all the people are white. Except Michelle Rodriguez. She's a minority. Although, she's not a minority like Cyprus Hill, 2Pac, and The Wutang Clan are minorities, she's a minority like Jackie Chan, Tiger Woods, and Colin Powell are minorities.

I will say that the acting as a whole was strong. Zoe Saldana didn't even appear on screen and I still wanted to bone her the entire time. Can you imagine fucking one of those alien chicks? Or even one of the dudes? I'd totally go gay for that one with the mohawk if he promised to stick his little octopus ponytail thing into my butt. Talk about a rectal exam. Whooo.


Highbrow Answer: The Closing Song is Ridiculous
Have you heard this shit? (listen here) Good god, Cameron. This is the highest grossing film of all time and this is the best you could do? You couldn't hire Radiohead or Beck or ANYBODY ELSE?

I love the words to this song. They basically summarize every bit of subtext in the movie. If you're going to be that blatant, why not go all the way with it:

This movie was about aliens fighting army dudes,
But it's really about nature and war and relationships,

Ooooo, Yeaahhhh.
The aliens can talk to the planet,

But that's just symbolic of their metaphorical connection to the earth.

Yeahhh, love and tanks and blue skin, Ooohhh.

I can just hear Celine Dion wailing away. Brings a tear to my eye.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Best Band with a Number in its name?

Lowbrow Answer: Blink 182
You named your fourth album "Take off your Pants and Jacket." Really? You're using the punchline of a joke I heard in 5th grade as an album title? Jesus. It wasn't even funny back then. I'm pretty sure the dudes in Blink 182 are just three guys from middle school detention that somebody gave guitars to.

Have you ever heard these little terds play live? Or, should I say, have you ever heard these little terds TRY to play live? Good lord. Guys, I know you've sold like 40 million records, but maybe take a music lesson. Or thirty. See, there are these things called 'tuning' and 'rhythm' that I think it would be super helpful for you to figure out.


Middlebrow Answer: U2
If you forget that Bono can't sing anymore and forget that The Edge is probably balding underneath that little beanie hat and forget that their stage looks like some sort of massive robotic sex toy and forget that they could have replaced the drummer six times by now and nobody would have noticed and forget that some of their songs sound like weird versions of the 'Matlock' theme, then you realize: U2 are fucking good.

'Sunday Bloody Sunday' rocked my face off when I first heard it. The song literally climbed onto my face and had sex with my ears. And god, was it good. And 'Where the Streets Have No Name' is like the greatest tune ever written. It makes ANYTHING feel epic. You could put it underneath a Preparation H commercial and I'd wish that I had hemorrhoids. Barry Manilow could cover it and I'd want to do him. In his butt.


Highbrow Answer: Nine Inch Nails
These guys are so epic that they spell their number out. And I'm always going to support a band who references the death of Christ in their name. It's like how I'll always go home with a girl who tells me she can tie a knot in a cherry stem with her tongue. It's a sure thing that you'll have a good time.

Nine Inch Nails are incredible. They play slow, fast, hard, soft, rock, classical, whatever. Trent Reznor could switch to the bassoon and I'm sure it would sound amazing. He could record himself plucking his own testicle hair and I'd by the album. Plus, come on, how are you going to argue with a guy who has worked with David Lynch. David Lynch is to awesomeness as God is to the world.

Friday, January 22, 2010

Best Part of Christmas?

Lowbrow Answer: The Birth of Christ
One little homeless baby is born and the next thing you know, we get a whole race of Evangelical idiots who hate Muslims, The Purple Teletubby, Jews, Science, Gays, and Women. Nice going, Jesus. Couldn't you have just stayed in the carpentry business instead of switching over to "Savior-ing?"

I hate birthdays anyhow. Especially one for somebody born over 2000 years ago. You don't see us baking a cake for Ghengis Khan or throwing a party for Octavius Caesar. You know why? Because they're fucking dead. They could care less if we're celebrating their birthday. They're too busy in Heaven having a threesome with Joan of Arc.


Middlebrow Answer: Presents
Here's a fun trick if you're bored. Buy a big black dildo and wrap it up. Put it under the tree and address it to your dad from your mom. Include a note inside that says, "I thought you might like this because you obviously have no interest in my vagina." Then just sit back, sip some eggnog, and watch your parents fight. Ah, Christmas. Good times.

Getting presents blows. Especially from your "kind-of" relatives. You know the people I mean. Those couples you only see at Christmas whose names you can't remember and who don't seem to even know who you are. They're names are usually something like "Janet and Ted." And they give you a purple sweater or a DVD of "PBS Masterpiece Theatre," and you have to awkwardly hug them and you hate it bacause they smell like moth balls. Die, Janet and Ted.


Highbrow Answers: Handel's Messiah
You know you're a badass when Beethoven, Mozart, and Haydn cite you as an influence. That's like Ron Jeremy saying, "Yeah, I try to fuck like Jeff King does." Handel worked for the English Royal Crown, he spoke like nine languages, and he composed 42 operas. FORTY-TWO. I can't even watch 42 minutes of a movie without getting distracted or needing to pee.

The Messiah is epic. Can you really argue with the Hallelujah Chorus? That shit is amazing. The Messiah is also the most famous instance of Handel's "Word-Painting." That's a technique whereby the melody of a song matches the words. As in, the word "high" would be sung on a high note, or "Valley" would be a string of notes that form a valley shape on the page. BAD. ASS. He's basically doing three types of art in one. You can't even walk and chew gum at the same time.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

When I'm seventy I hope to be...

Lowbrow Answer: ...Playing with my grand-kids.
Grand-kids are the fucking worst. I should know, I used to be one. (Not anymore! Huzzah!) They're whiny, their fingers are covered in applesauce, and they always want money. Plus they have no concept of how great you are until you're dead. Being a grandparent is like being Van Gogh; nobody misses you until you're a corpse.

The other thing that blows is that your spoiled kids expect you to provide a free babysitter service to your grandkids. What is this shit? I got plans! I have shuffleboard tournaments to attend and prune juice to drink. Take care of your own little brats.


Middlebrow Answer: ...On the road, promoting the movie version of my life story.
Here's an idea. Turn off your iPhone, stop hanging out with your idiot frat friends from college, quit your job as a low-level corporate shill, and get out into the world and do something. Build a school in Honduras or clone a panda so that they don't go extinct or invent a machine that cleans your teeth while it cooks meatloaf. Then people will want to hear your story instead of wanting you to stop talking about the boring life you've lead.

Of course, it's all about who makes your movie. You might end up being played by Keanu Reeves or Ryan Phillippe, with Paris Hilton as your daughter. In that case, just shove an ice-pick into your eyes and you won't have to watch.


Highbrow: ...Dead.
Call me crazy, but I have no interest in pooping in my pants or getting Alzheimer's and talking to squirrels. Getting old blows. I'd rather just step on a landmine when I turn seventy. It's quick, it's easy, and if you set up a canvas beforehand, you can make a nice splatter painting as a goodbye present for your relatives.

Elephants have it right. When an old elephant realizes that he is slowing down the herd, he just hurls himself over a cliff and he's gone. Perfect. If only humanity worked the same way. Then we could have gotten rid of Dick Clark, Larry King, Oren Hatch, Joan Rivers, Neil Diamond, and Montgomery Burns by now.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Best Way to Be Anti-Religious?

Lowbrow Answer: Be an Agnostic
As romantic as it may sound, Agnostics are really just people too gutless to be atheists. They don't believe in religion, but they're too cowardly to go all the way and tell God to fuck himself. It may be hard to identify an Agnostic within your group of friends. Lemme see if I can help.

Agnostics are people who...

- Get Henna Tattoos.
- Pay for a hooker but only get a blowjob.
- Buy a ticket to a Marilyn Manson concert and then avoid the mosh pit.
- Listen to the Arcade Fire.
- Love movies that feature Joseph Gordon-Leavitt.
- Voted for Ralph Nader

Just avoid them. They're useless anyhow. You know what they say: "When the going gets tough, Agnostics shit themselves."


Middlebrow Answer: Be an Atheist
I like the idea that you just become part of the earth when you die. I'd like it if they buried my body, I became dirt, then grass, then a pony came by and ate me. Ponies are amazing. Just look at them. It's a little pocket horse! How can you go wrong?!

There is a part of me, though, that thinks Atheism is just the latest cultural craze. Like quoting Richard Dawkins is now as cool as "Being Gay" or "Having a Tumor. " Fuck fads. Especially religious fads. First it's cool to be a christian, then it's not, then it is again, then it's not. Make up your damn mind, Jesus. I'm sick of your waffling.


Highbrow Answer: Stab an Evangelical
Where the hell did we get these people? Is somebody pouring mercury into the Midwest's water supply? They hate gays, they worship George W. Bush, and they refuse to have sex with me before marriage. Talk about downers. Could they be any less fun? I'd rather shave my face with a rabid dingo than spend an afternoon with an evangelical.

The best part of Evangelicals is the way they deal with children. Have you seen "Jesus Camp?" That shit is terrifying. You know, I can think of another group of people who indoctrinated kids at such a young age. Who got them all together and put foul thoughts into their heads. Need a hint? It starts with "N" and it's "Nazis."

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

When Life Hands You Lemons...

Lowbrow Answer: ...Throw a tantrum.
I love people who get upset when things don't go their way. Like crying and whining does anything but make you look like an idiot. If crying about my problems made them go away, I'd watch "A Walk to Remember" at the start of each day and be all set. That Nicholas Sparks. He just gets me.

Everybody has that one friend who is a complainer. You know the guy. The sun is always too bright, the room is always too cold, his stomach is always just a little queasy. I hate that guy. I hate him so much. Hey. Dude. Grow a pair. Stop whining or I'll ram a beehive up your ass.


Middlebrow Answer: ...Make lemonade.
Lemonade is good. Really good. Have you ever had that kind where they mix in pieces of actual lemons? Damn, that shit is amazing. I would drink lemonade every day if I could. Lemonade and hot dogs. I love hot dogs. Especially those red ones that come with the cheese already stuffed inside them. Yum. Wait, what were we talking about?

This answer is an optimistic one, but fuck optimism. The world is shit. You're useless. Your writing is terrible. Your art is atrocious. Those Donruss baseball cards you've been saving since you were five aren't worth anything. Your Golden retriever will get hit by a car. Just give it up, man.


Highbrow Answer: ...Ask for more lemons.
There's nothing more productive than depression. Happy people don't accomplish shit. They just sit around texting each other and watching The Bachelor. You wanna write a novel or compose a symphony? Cut your ear off. Or watch your wife die while giving birth to your son, who then also dies. Sure, it'll be painful; painful all the way to your own exhibit at the Tate Gallery! Ha HA!

The idea of fighting depression is so silly. It's like trying to win a boxing match against Mike Tyson. Sure, you may be able to avoid him for a few rounds, but sooner or later, he's going to bite your ear off. Why not just let it happen and be done with the whole thing.

Monday, January 11, 2010

Best Female Sex Toy?

Lowbrow Answer: A Dildo
Booooooooring. We're living in the age of iPods and space travel and Snuggies; can't we come up with something better than this? It doesn't vibrate, it doesn't rotate, and it doesn't play fun music when the time is right. It just sits there, making you do all the work. Sex toys are supposed to be enjoyable, not feel like a forearm workout.

And who the hell do they model these after? Just some random dude with a huge dong? Weird. I think they should do a line of historical dildos. Just imagine boning yourself with an exact replica of Ghengis Khan's cock. Or Abraham Lincoln's. Hot. I can just picture the dirty talk"Oh, yes Abe, Emancipate my clitoris. Emancipate it."


Middlebrow Answer: A Sybian
I've never tried one of these things, but I imagine it feels something like strapping a jet-ski to your clitoris and riding through a hurricane in the Atlantic Ocean. It's got more horsepower than most Toyota's, for Christ's sake. I might get one and use it to mow my lawn. It'd be cheaper than buying a John Deere.

The problem, though, is you that you can't really use one of these subtly. I mean, if somebody comes in and catches you riding one of these beasts, there's no real way to mask what you're up to. At least with a vibrator you can claim you were doing a self-administered pap smear or shaving the walls of your uterus with the new Gillete Vag-Tastic.


Highbrow Answer: A Tongue
You know those guys who hate eating pussy? I'm sure you've seen them. They're often wearing popped collars and covering their own sexual insecurities by making "fag" jokes. They listen to Nickelback or Rise Against and think that a "rimjob" is something that happens to your car tires. Fuck those guys. Actually, come to think of it, if you're a girl: DON'T fuck those guys. It won't be worth it, trust me. They'll fumble around your body like a drunkard looking for his keys in the dark while you lay on your back deciding which pair of socks you should wear tomorrow.

She's hot, she's naked, and she wants to have sex with you. The least you can do is put in a little work, dude. You lazy bastard.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

Best Classic Disney Character?

Lowbrow Answer: Donald Duck
If we teach the children of America that having a speech impediment is okay, then what's next? You're allowed to suck your thumb until you're thirty? Ralph Lauren starts making khakis with built-in adult diapers so you never have to potty train? Fuck that. Learn to talk correctly. This is America, god dammit, not some prissy remedial country like Luxembourg or Canada.

And what's with the girlie sailor outfit? Is Donald in the Gay Navy? He's not even wearing any pants. He's dressed like he just wandered off the set of a porn starring the Village People. I wonder if he's a top or a bottom.


Middlebrow Answer: Grumpy
He's angry, he hates women, and his long beard makes him look like an Al-Qaeda operative. Besty. I can just picture him strapping some C4 to his chest and blowing up a bus terminal in Fantasy Land. Maybe we'd all get lucky and the explosion would take out a few of those creepy little kids from "It's a small world after all" on their way to work.

Any street cred that Grumpy has is totally blown to shit when you consider his roommates. An aging doctor with signs of Alzheimer's? An allergy-ridden nerd? A fatty whose clearly snorting Valium? You're judged by the company you keep, Grump. Maybe you should get your own place somewhere. You could use the extra space to display some Basquiat paintings.


Highbrow Answer: Dumbo
There are few things in life more terrifying than a flying elephant. They already trample shit at will, imagine if they could do it from 400 feet in the air. And Dumbo is even scarier because he's often wearing a vaudevillian circus outfit. I wish I could dress like that and pull it off as well as he does. When I do it, I just look like some stupid hipster from Silver Lake who's "super" excited for the newest Grizzly Bear single to come out.

The best part about Dumbo is his willingness to go on wild, alcohol-induced hallucinations. He's the pachyderm version of Hunter S. Thompson. That dream he has about the pink elephants on parade is the most horrifying shit I've ever seen. Seriously. Watch it again. It'll give you nightmares for weeks. Like, actual nightmares. Not those lame ones you always have where, OMG, somebody has stolen your blackberry!

Monday, January 4, 2010

Best Knock-Knock Joke?

Lowbrow Answer:

Me: Knock, Knock.
You: Who's there?
Me: Cargo.
You: Cargo who?
Me: Cargo honk!

Thatta boy. Now turn over and let me change your diaper.


Middlebrow Answer:

Me: Knock, Knock.
You: Who's there?
Me: Panther.
You: Panther who?
Me: Panther no panth, I'm going thwimming!

Say it out loud, jackass.


Highbrow Answer:

Me: Knock, Knock.
You: Who's there?
Me: Knock, Knock.
You: Who's there?
Me: Knock, Knock.
You: Who's there?
Me: Knock, Knock.
You: Who's there?
Me: Knock, Knock.
You: Who's there?
Me: Knock, Knock.
You: Who's there?
Me: Knock, Knock.
You: Who's there?
Me: Knock, Knock.
You: Who's there?
Me: Phillip Glass.

If you don't get it, I hate you.