Tag Archives: mass media

total bullshit and other pleasures of the flesh

First, hello! Welcome to the first real blog entry on this site. I’ll spare you the introductions and promises, except to say: when my life is interesting, I’ll write about it. This is, after all, a site about a poetry tour. When it isn’t (I do, after all, live in a suburb), I will write about other things. To wit:

Last night, I went to see the seventh film in the Saw series, creatively entitled Saw 3D: The Final Chapter. If you are unfamiliar with this fine series of films, they are about a fellow named John who abducts minor sinners and puts them in hellish and difficult-to-escape traps (like this one). John has successors, and there are bumbling detectives and there is moralizing about the hypocrisy of ordinary people, but Saw is like Playboy: even if you like the articles, you still stare at Miss November’s tits for a good long while. You still listen to the screaming and cheer when the viscera flies in shoddy 3D.

I have a love-hate relationship with total bullshit. I’ve been known to turn to Tool Academy in the middle of bad relationships. I follow Glee. And I can’t help but recognize Saw for what it is: a morality play that pokes at the mind’s dirtiest parts while lecturing its audience about living a less-than-virtuous life. It is like scat porn with Scriptures being sung to the bow-chicka-bow-wow music, and it is endlessly and unironically compelling to me. Even enjoyable. And I don’t feel like a terrible person for that.

Mostly.

Anyway, I didn’t really have a huge, awesome point, I just wanted to express a preference for Miss November’s guts over her tits. Also, when I talked to David Perez (if you know me, you probably know him — if not, click the link that says “The Pincushion Orchestra” over there to your right) about this, he compared Jigsaw to the white activists who go into some mostly-non-white community, gentrify the shit out of it and make everything shitty. Jigsaw talks about them like forcible rehab: live or die, make your choice.

Further reading: Hacksaw, by my academic soulmate Trevor Liam Byrne-Smith. We met when I got trashed and tried to tell him how good the Saw movies are. However, everything he says in this poem is true.

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