THE JO-TEL … illegal blog downfield

Eradicate “like” as a speech signal.

I don’t critique people’s excessive use of “like” out of some sadistic desire to enforce obscure rules of grammar. It actually really bothers me. When people pepper their stories with “like” they may think they are merely succumbing to a minor verbal tick that detracts insignificantly if at all from their story. In fact, it’s much worse, at least for me. It gets to the point where all I hear is “like”. I know I sound like a priggish grammar pedant. That’s because I am– relatively speaking. Compared to the average speaker of our generation (even well-education speakers like PETE and Hip E.), I’m motherfucking Strunk.

I just don’t see how it’s that hard to stop saying “like”. I did it. It took some effort, but, I mean … I did it … and I once lost my wallet for two years in the breast pocket of my blazer. My goal is now to halt the last and most nagging use of “like” in conversation: to signal when someone says something. You know: “She was like, ‘what the fuck are doing here?’ And I was like: ‘I live here, you fucking bitch.’ And she was like: ‘Fuck you!’” The reason this use of “like” is so popular is because in the midst of quick conversation, it’s difficult to think of a description of someone’s speech or manner. But if we shied aware from difficult things we’d all be skinning potatoes in the kitchen of a burger joint in Needles, California. I’ve been doing pretty well in my quest to stop using “like” in this manner. Once complete, I will be all action, no words: a walking, beaming, glorious example to the world. Buckle and fall in the wake of my refinement.

Watch Inland Empire with Hip E. less

David Lynch is a hero and Inland Empire was my favorite movie from last year. This post is not really about that. It’s about a certain goal pertaining to watching Inland Empire in the coming year, namely, not watching it with Hip E. Last time I tried, it might have been the most annoyed I’ve ever gotten with Hip E. in our seven years of living together. Including the time when he pounded on my wall (when we were neighbors; wall separating us) for the entire length of Revolver because he claims that he couldn’t sleep with the noise, and the time he insisted for five years straight that a fake promotional Marlboro horseshoes with fake sprayed-on rust was real– one of the dumbest arguments ever made by a human. But when we sat down to watch Inland Empire, he insisted on asking several nagging and pointless questions about characters and plot details. “Who that?” “Is that his wife?” “Is that the same actor” “Where are they now?” “Is that the same husband again?” “Why are they rehearsing again?” “Where is she going?” “Why is she auditioning again?” The height of my annoyance came when he asked the seemingly simple question: “Is this the second time we’ve seen this scene?” Well, the answer to that question was “yes”. This particular scene in Inland Empire was one that was repeated three times, twice from different perspectives. So I said “yes”. Hip E. then challenged my statement, saying that this scene was different from the last one. It was not the IDENTICAL scene but it was the same event seen from a slightly different perspective. Hip E. kept pushing, insisting that I was wrong. At that moment, two things happened. One: Shark looks at the scene quietly, ignoring Hip E.’s arguments. Two: Shark’s head blows up. And to make it worse, the entire time he was trying to fashion some sort of weed smoking device using only tin foil, a toothpick, and waves of clamorous noise. So, yeah, less watching Inland Empire with Hip E.

Be more self-deprecating.

This year really hammered it home for me. No one likes when other people are successful, or happy, or even satisfied. Life is a zero-sum game, our pre-programed evolutionary outlook dictates, and when you go forward I go back. No one laughs at someone that threatens them. And no one minds if you don’t threaten them. So, yeah, I suck, this post sucks, the jo-tel is a pale shadow of its former self, I’m ugly, my ship is lost, my fleet is lost, and my friends on the Endor Moon WILL NOT SURVIVE.

[there’s really nothing else funny below]
Listen to Safe as Milk by Captain Beefheart.

Captain Beefheart is a difficult listen. I like Trout Mask Replica but it can be alienating when you’re not in the mood for gonzo lyrical poetry. But I hear Safe as Milk is tamer and more accessible. I promise this will be a more productive year for listening to Safe as Milk at least once. Promise.

Do charity.

Last year I proposed my Project for the Perfection of the Moral and Artistic Atheist Ethic. Charity is an important part of that. I’m thinking that if I just transfer my time from arguing with Hip E. about scenes in Inland Empire to charity, I could probably feed a bunch of bums or build a few houses.

Get new job that doesn’t blow goats.

I’d like to work for a judge or instead of for The Man. But this one’s tough because The Man is much better off at paying my student loans. $hark plans to blow goats for a few more months. After that, no worries: Hip E. knows how long I can survive off of tuna and Beast ICE.

-Shark