It’s time for another commentary about the commentary of the toots of @thisisconlan.
Note to myself:
I’m going to kill you.
Ideally, the first line is read in a cheerful-cum-sarcastic, Johnny Carson-esque tone. Then the second is read like a growling, menacing spy-movie villain. I think it’s pretty funny.
“Rocky Jones, Space Ranger” was really just a ripoff of “Space Patrol”, don’t you think?
If you know me (and nobody does), you know my two great loves are Mystery Science Theater 3000 and old time radio. So, you can imagine my surprise when I first heard an episode of Space Patrol. With its indefatigable space commander hero and slightly dopey sidekick with a stupid name, I assumed it was a radio version of the Rocky Jones movies I’d seen on MST3K (the names of which I couldn’t remember at the time). It was only after reviewing the titles of my MST3K DVDs and subsequent Wikipedia research that I realized they were different. In one, the sidekick is named Happy; in the other, Winky. That’s pretty much the only difference. And, since Space Patrol came first, I concluded it was ripped off by Rocky Jones, Space Ranger. I know; I was just as shocked as you are.
Reality TV show idea: Secret Psychologist.
Set up like the Bachelor, except on the “dates,” the guy delves into the girls’ daddy issues.
For some reason I don’t understand, I watched a few episodes of The Bachelor this past season. It’s just a weird, sick, win-at-all-costs game show. But I can’t really figure out the contestants. Obviously no one should believe they’ll find love this way. Even if the ridiculousness of the premise doesn’t convince you, the show’s track record speaks for itself (I believe the number of couples who have stayed together is something like 1 in 9). Some of the women are clearly in it just for the “fame” and exposure. But there are others who seem to be genuinely investing their entire sense of self-worth into this single, vapid game show. It’s kind of heartbreaking. You hear them speaking as if their entire lives are riding on it—like it’s their last chance to find love. And yet, they know going in that the odds are 30-to-1 against them. I’m in awe of the perverted combination of overblown self-esteem and utter despair that leads someone to seek approval like this. All I can think while watching these poor women is, what happened to you to make you this way?
Tweets about passive-aggressive people are passive-aggressive tweets about passive-aggressive people are passive-aggress*universe explodes*
The best part of this is, of course, that this very toot is also passive-aggressive. But at least it’s consciously so. I’ve mentioned this phenomenon before, where people toot their annoyance with passive-aggressive people. The unintended joke is that it’s literally impossible to publicly complain about some (unnamed) person being passive-aggressive without yourself being passive-aggressive. I’m always fascinated by this kind of recursive hypocrisy. ((“Hypocrisy” is a very loaded word that suggests a harsher criticism that I’m intending here. I just want to point out how we, as people, use a different standard to judge others than we do to judge ourselves.)) Maybe all the people I’ve seen do this are conscious of the irony, but I doubt it.
I bet the worst part about getting a nose-job is updating the photos on all your online profiles.
Which isn’t so bad, so, think about it.
This is just a joke, obviously. Your nose is fine. The buckteeth are the problem.
That concludes this episode of This Is Twittering: Meta-commentary Digest.