Posted without particular comment, here’s a Red State Soundsystem remix of M.I.A.’s “Paper Planes”. Because I felt like it.
Exhibit A: A column I wrote for the Las Vegas CityLife, all the way back in 2006:
Remember the months after 9/11? Imagine what would happen to this city if even a quarter of the tourists simply stopped coming one day. Las Vegas has precisely one major industry, and most of the people who work in it ain’t exactly switching over to exciting careers in nanotechnology if they lose their gigs as blackjack dealers and graveyard-shift cocktail waitresses and maids and convention-booth babes and porno-flyer dispensers. No offense, but it’s the truth. The jobs go away, and so do the people, in droves. The fragile real estate economy here goes down like a Bangkok whore on roofies. Your shiny stucco McMansion — and whatever equity you’ve put into it — is suddenly worth less than the shoddy material it was built with. You’re jobless, probably homeless, and you can’t even afford to drive your big shiny SUV back across the empty desert to a place where you can grow your own food and sleep outside. Maybe you can live in it — park it out in the arroyos somewhere with the rest of the neo-Okies from Arizona and California and all the other places that rely entirely upon the fossil fuel economy in one way or another for survival. Learn to love the taste of cactus and flame-broiled Gila monster. Proper fucked. You see what I mean.
Exhibit B: An article by Forbes Magazine on the abandonment of America cities:
For decades, Las Vegas, ripe with new construction and economic development, burgeoned into a shimmering urban carnival. Detroit, once the fulcrum of American industry, sagged and rusted under its own weight. These days, it’s the worst of times for both. Las Vegas edged Detroit for the title of America’s most abandoned city. [...] Will Las Vegas eventually suffer the same fate? “I don’t think Vegas is overbuilt,” says Hallier. “Despite what everybody says, Vegas still has 2 million people.” Time will tell if this sort of optimism is warranted. Cynics who’ve witnessed Detroit’s decline might liken Hallier’s opinions to another Dickens oeuvre: Great Expectations.
Yeah. So you know what, Las Vegas? Next time I tell y’all something, fucking pay attention.
Now quit whining, sell your shitty starter home, and move into a trailer on Boulder Highway. And don’t say you weren’t warned.
In what may signal a chastening within the industry, leading film producer Golden Dawn Global issued a press release this week voicing its “humility and bewilderment” and offering to cease international distribution of its blockbuster series Pregnant Ladyboy Sodomized Facedown In The Rice Bowl, a 23-part epic that has reportedly left thousands of viewers feeling repulsed, defiled, and forever doubtful about the inherent goodness of mankind. “I’ve seen about a million of these films, and each one is worse than the next,” Portugal’s José Randulfo told reporters after receiving treatment for dehydration, caustic chemical burns, and fractured ribs—the result of a 45-minute vomiting spell he suffered after renting Naughty Ginza Maids Drink Cocktail Of Refuse And Bile. “The doctors say it may take months before I remember what normal genitals look like, and even longer before I remember how they are intended to function.” “An apology from the government is fine, but how will they address the trauma I’ve already suffered?” asked Dallas resident Carter Landismann, citing the film Let’s Underwear Shop In Chinbo-Sho Medical District. “This stuff is disgusting. Like this scene here, with the latex-covered girl and the wolf and—oh, God, I’m gonna be sick again!”
Shut up shut up shut up shut up.
So here’s what happened.
My friend Chris Selcer and I were hanging out on my porch, smoking and chatting, when we heard a noise like the world’s biggest car backfire: BAP-BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BAP! Chris immediately said “That’s a plane engine going out.”
We looked up…and there, between us and the Strip, was a Southwest Airlines plane…and the right (starboard, yeah?) engine was on FIRE. A tight, long (maybe 30-40 foot) stream of pure yellow flame ripping out the back. No smoke.
I think we both said “Holy fuck!” at the precise same moment. We jogged down to the end of the block to follow it. It was headed east-northeast, and it wasn’t gaining altitude — it was only 1000-2000 feet up at that point — and we thought it was about to drop out of the sky. We thought the pilot might try to make it to Nellis Air Force Base, north…but we didn’t think he was gonna make it that far. But we didn’t hear a boom and we didn’t see smoke.
Other neighbors and passers-by came over. One of my neighbors had a police scanner and he heard it was a Southwest flight and that the pilot was gonna try to circle around the city counterclockwise and come back to McCarran Airport. But we couldn’t see the plane.
And that was all, really, until I saw on Twitter — via local newsman Dave Courvoisier — that the plane landed safely.
But I have never in my life seen anything like that. I mean, I know that a plane can fly with one operational engine, but it was so loud and so…well, so totally on fire…that I thought it was gonna come down in suburban Vegas.
I’m glad all the passengers on Flight 273 got out safely, if Twitter is telling me correctly.
A lot of futurists and analysts are talking about China these days — how China is poised to become the next economic superpower.
This is why they’re wrong. Not just the appalling working conditions and governmental fascism — those are hideous enough — but the workers’ wages. My math suggests they’re pulling down roughly US$4.80 a day.
How are they supposed to become an economic superpower when their labor force doesn’t make enough in a single day to buy a Big Mac?
(I know it’s more complicated than that, but the fact remains, it’s embarrassing. Plus they’re fucking fascists.)
Word. WORD. T-Go knocks one out of the park. (And unlike the rest of the fucktards, I actually know T-Go, which is why I know that he loves it when I call him T-Go, despite the fact that nobody else does and I’ve never done it before right this second, but it’s still awesome to be called T-Go. Yes.)
5. I hate that you poke me. Don’t fucking poke me. I don’t like it when my wife Wendy pokes me. Why? Because it’s annoying. Small, lost children and homeless people poke you. Do you want to know why? Because they don’t know you and they want something. What do you want? Huh? What the fuck do you want?