Guilty pleasures

Everyone's going to be blogging about this Guardian article so I might as well get it over with. My comment to strawberryrock:

I bet [Hitchens is] one of those people who thinks it's really hilarious to get together with his friends over a pint litre of gin and quote lines from The Simpsons and thinks that he's sounding all intellectual while really, his imitation of Homer going "D'oh" just makes him sound like a frat boy.

I want to play that game that Zizek recommended, though. It sounds fun, although I never really got the hang of video games.

Anyway, I don't so much have guilty pleasures as a number of bourgeois indulgences that I don't feel terribly guilty over: TV, LJ-voyeurism, shopping, raspberry dark chocolate lattes, and making fun of Christopher Hitchens.*

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On a much sadder note, if you have a pet, hug him or her today. The passing of a dog I've never met brought me to tears. Rest in peace, Zeke.

* My latest, and oddest, guilty pleasure is all the internets wanking over the death throes of For Better or For Worse (mostly via Comics Curmudgeon and binky_betsy). I thought Liz's various romantic entanglements and inevitable descent into suburban domestic servitude were bad enough, but then Michael got a $25,000 advance on a crappy unsolicited first novel—in Canada, no less!—and that is way more offensive than most Mallard Fillmore strips. Then again, the novel is Canadian historical fiction, and I honestly have no idea how any of that stuff gets published in the first place. I wonder if the protagonist fucks a bear.

Guilty pleasures

Everyone's going to be blogging about this Guardian article so I might as well get it over with. My comment to strawberryrock:

I bet [Hitchens is] one of those people who thinks it's really hilarious to get together with his friends over a pint litre of gin and quote lines from The Simpsons and thinks that he's sounding all intellectual while really, his imitation of Homer going "D'oh" just makes him sound like a frat boy.

I want to play that game that Zizek recommended, though. It sounds fun, although I never really got the hang of video games.

Anyway, I don't so much have guilty pleasures as a number of bourgeois indulgences that I don't feel terribly guilty over: TV, LJ-voyeurism, shopping, raspberry dark chocolate lattes, and making fun of Christopher Hitchens.*

---

On a much sadder note, if you have a pet, hug him or her today. The passing of a dog I've never met brought me to tears. Rest in peace, Zeke.

* My latest, and oddest, guilty pleasure is all the internets wanking over the death throes of For Better or For Worse (mostly via Comics Curmudgeon and binky_betsy). I thought Liz's various romantic entanglements and inevitable descent into suburban domestic servitude were bad enough, but then Michael got a $25,000 advance on a crappy unsolicited first novel—in Canada, no less!—and that is way more offensive than most Mallard Fillmore strips. Then again, the novel is Canadian historical fiction, and I honestly have no idea how any of that stuff gets published in the first place. I wonder if the protagonist fucks a bear.