Not only does God hate dinosaurs, we’re pretty sure he hates BannedCast as well. Much more on the way, we had to hibernate a bit recently because of ISIS. Or furries, we can’t remember which, but they’re pretty much the same. It’s called a “furry fatwa.”
Nonetheless, we’re coming back with an update by the end of the week, including an open letter to the goddamn furries who were a little too sensitive with respect to our recent antics. We’re not mad, we just wish some of them had a little better sense of humor. Maybe God hates furry dinosaurs, too …
Don’t forget that Monday nights from 6-8 PST mean Godfrey’s Pub Crawl on FCCFreeRadio.com in studio 2B! Because we love you, regardless of what everyone else thinks. So listen in real-time at FCCFreeRadio or TuneIn Radio and call us at 415-655-9246, or listen later as a downloadable podcast.
Today’s topics: Secret Santa gift exchanges and female masking. As per usual, some of our topics were suggested by questions sent in by listeners to either Twitter handle @BannedCast, or email: email@example.com. Visit bannedcast.com and read more about Tanner’s exploits and those of the band Lucky Boys Confusion in the book Medicine and Gasoline: On the Road in America with Lucky Boys Confusion.
The response to our top ten videos of the ’80s was so overwhelming that we at BannedCast found ourselves besieged with requests for more! Remember that scene in Miracle on 34th Street where they bring bags of letters addressed to Santa into the courtroom to prove the existence of St. Nicholas? It was sort of like that, except that most of what we received was junk mail mixed with the occasional death threat from angry furries who disapprove of our previous blog post, but that makes it no less overwhelming!
And so in the truest spirit of BannedCast and our dedication to our legions of fans, we decided to satiate the desires of you feckless, shit-eating masses with another top 10 list!
Here, then, are our top ten music videos of the ’90s. That is, these are the videos that best represent the decade, not the best in terms of artistry. Because if you’ll notice, Marilyn Manson’s “Beautiful People” and “Tourniquet” videos do not appear on this list—it would be an insult to include them amongst the occasionally shitty company included here. Anyways, enjoy, as there are some guilty pleasures mixed in here.
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged 90s, 90s music videos, Ace of Base, David Bowie and Mick Jagger, Die Antwoord, Jesus Jones, Kriss Kross, Mr. Big, Sneaker Pimps, Snow, Soul Asylum, Spice Girls, TLC
Happy Super Bowl weekend, everyone! I will refer to this as Super Bowl 2015 because I don’t know how to read those ridiculous Roman Numerals that are supposed to indicate just which number Super Bowl this is. Correction: I refuse to read those Roman numerals that seem to have no purpose other than to make me and countless others feel inferior because we cannot decipher the cryptic meaning of a few misplaced letters meant to signify a numerical quantity.
Hey NFL and everyone else who feels compelled to use Roman numerals as a sign of status: using an outdated numbering system from an empire some 1300 years dead doesn’t make you look prestigious, it makes you look like a conceited asshole. There’s a reason the Romans never unlocked the mysteries of quantum mechanics, much less calculus, and it’s because their jacked-up numerical system looks more like a dyslexic’s handwritten signature than it does a mathematical equation. So let’s all stop pretending that we give a shit about those X’s, I’s, V’s and L’s and give the Arabic system its due.
This year’s Super Bowl is particularly important because it marks the three-year anniversary of the last time I will ever attend or throw a Super Bowl-themed party. This, because three years ago my wife threw a MeetUp.com Super Bowl party. Prior to this, I’d always assumed that MeetUp.com was just another in a long line of swingers websites, and so I was surprised when no one showed up with baskets of Astroglide and Benoit Balls. However, I was also surprised at a few of the egregious breaches of decency that were somewhat worse than a stranger fucking my wife.
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You missed Monday’s Godfrey’s Pub Crawl? But then you missed Derek B’s recap of FurCon 2015, and you missed one of FurCon 2015’s attendees calling in to the show to answer a few lingering questions! You really need to get on this, and you need to know that you can call in every Monday from 6-8 p.m. PST at 415-655-9246 because we love you and we want to hear from you. Seriously, why don’t you call more often? It’s like you don’t love us anymore.
In Bret Easton Ellis’s American Psycho, Patrick Bateman uses an ice pick to carve words into the backs of women, and the fact that he carves words into their backs is notable because their reaction (screaming and pain) is not in response to the words he writes but rather the act of dragging the ice pick across their skin. Inasmuch as Patrick Bateman may perceive himself as engaged in an act of speech (writing words with an ice pick), for the woman who becomes his parchment there is no act of speech but only a particular physical act inducing a physical reaction. This scene serves to illustrate an important difference between speech acts that are a function of representational meaning versus speech acts that are a function only of the features of their form in which meaning is somehow inherent in the object that comprises the representation rather than the thing to which that object refers. Put another way, Ellis’s scene shows us what it means to regard the object as meaningful in itself rather than the object as a signifier of a non-present referent.
Confusing meaning with the object itself is possible when those lines are traced with an ice pick into someone’s back, but the crucial point is that those lines are not themselves “meaningful” in the sense that for the woman whose back is being used to write them, those lines do not constitute words that she reads. Those lines instead produce a chemical response that is not a function of meaning but rather a response to a physical stimulus, and while we know that her screams are not in response to the message of the words that Bateman has written into her back but rather a response to the physical pain of the ice pick, any occasion in which we imagine the very form of words or any representation to be a violent act, the result is, in Walter Benn Michaels’ words, “a world in which what a speech act does is disconnected from what it means” (Michaels 69). And what speech acts do is necessarily, in fact inextricably linked to what they mean, since the lines and forms that comprise representations are arbitrary and inert and since only a scenario in which a psychopathic murderer may be carving them into your back do “words” become actions prior to, or altogether independent of interpretation, since it’s not like the woman can even see them in order to read them. Meaning thus arises through an act of interpretation in which objects, in this case lines, refer to an idea or concept that is independent of the form of the lines themselves and inherent instead in the concepts they represent.
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