Category Archives: Fun

Loving Screams

You guys. Your favorite dada-surf blitz, “Rock Lobster,” RESCUED JOHN LENNON’S GENIUS. See, B-52s recorded it partially as a Yoko Ono tribute (all those animal sounds!). Lennon heard it in a club. Inspired by its similarity to his wife’s music, Lennon collaborated with her to make Double Fantasy, after five years of rock block. Satisfying narrative urgency, Ono screamed her part in “Rock Lobster” with the B-52s ten years later.

“Listening to the B-52’s, John said he realized that my time had come,” [Ono] told Songfacts. “So he could record an album by making me an equal partner and we won’t get flak like we used to up to then.”

Loving screams save culture.

And I adore Molly Ringwald’s loving scream about the impact of The Breakfast Club and other John Hughes movies she collaborated in creating. Racist! Honest! Realistic! Empowering in their honesty and realism! Wholly endorsing sexual assault! Still totally racist!

How are we meant to feel about art that we both love and oppose? What if we are in the unusual position of having helped create it? Erasing history is a dangerous road when it comes to art—change is essential, but so, too, is remembering the past, in all of its transgression and barbarism, so that we may properly gauge how far we have come, and also how far we still need to go.

How far we still need to go, Molly? Turns out it’s #EqualPayDay. And one wonders if she got paid as much as the dudes in that film. Or if Ono got paid as much as her husband to make Double Fantasy.

One doesn’t really wonder. One screams.

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If it Looks and Smells Like Food Blogging…

I recently blogged domestically about baking failure. Your reward for clicking over there is a recipe for 100% whole wheat challah.

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Hot Frigging Chocolate

When our government lays the groundwork for conditions that thoughtful people cogently compare to Nazi Germany and fascist Italy; when our president issues racist orders and statements unrepentantly; when our elected representatives appear to ignore millions of constituents who insist on full rejection of a racist, sexist, sadistic set of know-nothings running our most important federal agencies and a Nazi on the National Security Council is this a waking nightmare or are you just happy to see me; I have but one recommendation:

Put equal amounts of sugar and cocoa powder in a saucepan over medium heat. Dribble in milk (dairy for maximum custardy taste!) and whisk to make a paste. When it’s smoooooove, whisk in more milk until the color looks yum. Heat over medium until it bubbles around the edges, and then keep heating it a bit longer to toast the milk sugars for nutty puddingness.

If you overmilked it and you’re like damn just opening Twitter today requires heroic chocolate this is no time for even an illusion of moderation (Elizabeth Warren, I’m talking to you), just whisk in more cocoa and sugar. Do not fear lumps. They will whisk away. Relish these easily fixable problems.

Ladle some out some to the clammering younglings, sure, but the point of this whole endeavor is to pour vodka into your own cup of hot fucking chocolate. And drink it. Bourbon would probably work too.

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I watched Bojack Horseman

It has to be a cartoon horse, for me to care about a middle aged white guy’s problems.

It’s a good show.

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