As a dude, there's a two-step process that kicks in whenever we hear a new chick musical act:
• Does this sound good?
• Does she sound hot?
Which brings us to Lady Gaga.
First: she is a national treasure. Second: no one can decide if she's hot. You look at one picture and you're like yea, bro and then you see another and it's like maybe not so much and so on. It's even more confusing.
And then you hear about the penis thing and at first you're repulsed and then you watch her bring down the house and bleed everywhere at the MTV Video Music awards last year and it confuses and excites you even more, to the point where you, somehow, enter that frame of mind that drives women to sleep with powerful or famous men who happen to be spectacularly unattractive and not see the humor in it.
Can you imagine taking Lady Gaga out…on a date? Sitting outside her dressing room or apartment or spaceship and waiting for her while you have literally no idea what the hell she's going to be wearing or even look like when she steps out from behind that door. It's like The Deer Hunter but with a vagina. Or a penis.
At least it's a diamond-encrusted penis, though. Or both. Whatever.
This is what Free Willy should have been. Or Flipper. Whichever one had Crocodile Dundee in it.
This week there are something like 50,000 people on the internet all riffing on some variation of GUYS THEY'RE KILLER WHALES AMIRITE? WHY ARE YOU SWIMMING WITH KILLER WHALES? THEY WILL KILL YOU. LOL. And so on.
Well I'm not here to do that.
I'm here to say that maybe we need to make some changes. First: we call them by their Christian name: Orcas. Second: we make them enlist. Look, it's 2010, we can't draft anyone into the military against their will. What we can do, however, is psychologically beat them down until they really have no choice but to enlist. We make their lives seem so pointless and soul-crushing that a life of adventure and excitement in the military is the only reasonable escape.
And this cat down at SeaWorld – who's now responsible for three human deaths – maybe he doesn't do so well with authority. Maybe he has to scrub the barracks, or peel potatoes sometimes. That's okay, though – it builds character. And at the end of Basic Training, when the drill sergeant is out of commission because he got blown up in a hand grenade accident, our friend the Orca will be there to rally his friends, teach themselves how to march in formation, and put on a good show for the General and his staff.
And maybe, just maybe, in the end, everyone will learn a little something about themselves. Then the Orcas get deployed to Afghanistan, where they get blown up, ironically, by an IED planted in the bottom of a pool.
This either means that the recession is over or rich people have just decided to stop pretending to care what everyone else thinks. Which means that Michael Bloomberg smoking a roll of $100s like a cigar on live national television is just around the corner. Vince McMahon is probably going to open Wrestlemania this year by hosing down a couple of strippers with spray adhesive, having them roll around in some cash, and then finally setting them on fire in front of 70,000 people.
If this kind of insouciance is the next thing, it'll actually be cheaper for the rest of us to keep up. No more knock-off Prada bags, or Bally slippers made in Hong Kong, or Rolexes you bought off of that Russian guy you know at the gym – no, in the new economy all we have to do to keep up is just do dumb things with money.
And with that in mind, I'll be wiping my ass with a dollar bill later this evening.
I imagine that it's a cobblestone street, so it hurts extra hard when Glenn Beck lands on his head. After a minute he wobbles to his feet, dusts himself off, picks up his tattered tricorn hat, and stumbles off into the cold night. Tears stream down his bruised face as he walks home through the darkness. Alone.
Alone, because he just called one of the most popular Presidents in American history a socialist in that sneering self-satisfied derogatory way of his. Because he drug a beloved President's name through the mud in an attempt to get a bunch of angry white people angry enough to buy his next book or come to his next speaking engagement. Because he's an asshole.
Whenever something like this goes down I think about the time that I was a big Howard Stern fan.
I was 15.
|Aaron B. Murray has a wall-sized aquarium filled with Cristal and reef sharks. He feeds them daily and recycles the Cristal twice a month. Follow him on Twitter at murray_cod|
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