AdamConover.net

I made this animated GIF out of my new favorite YouTube video. I feel that this is a pretty accurate depiction of what this little dog’s life is like now.

We’re in heavy production right now, which means that, a) I am constantly consumed by a gnawing panic and sense of dread, and b) we’re releasing some new videos! The first two are based on two of this year’s Oscar contenders; however, both more or less require that you’ve seen the movie in question. So:

If you saw No Country For Old Men, watch this one:

But if you saw Juno, watch this one!

As you can tell from the masthead, I’ve moved this blog to adamconover.net. (Why “.net”? Because in ten years of living on the internet, I somehow never had the foresight to register “adamconover.com”.) I bought the domain name “tweebiscuit.net” way back in 2001; seven years later, I figure it’s time to start writing under my own name. Any old links should redirect transparently, but update your bookmarks, blogrolls, and RSS subscriptions just in case.

In other news, I’ve started an experimental Tumblelog, mostly because once I’d created an account, Tumblr is so easy to use that it was hard not to. All my “serious” writing will still be here, and I’ll still be sharing links in the sidebar — if I keep up with it, I’ll be using the tumblelog to share things that make me giggle yet aren’t worth publishing elsewhere. (Example.) Subscribe if interested.

(Continued)

Fucking awesome.

(Thanks, FiPi!)

• Aries: Look behind you, Aries. Slowly. See that guy? That’s Taurus. He’s following you.
• Taurus: Taurus, dude, just think for a second, ok? I know you’re jealous, but don’t do something that you’re going to regret. Instead of blaming Aries, maybe you should think about how your own behavior have could been better. If only you had been a bit more sensitive… well, you don’t need me to paint you a picture. Anyway, you’re seriously starting to creep everybody out, so just chill, ok?
• Gemini: Fuck Taurus, Gemini. Just fuck that guy.
• Sagittarius: Yo Sagittarius, did you hear about Taurus and Gemini? That is some crazy shit!
• Leo: Sorry about all that, Leo. You know, drama, blah blah. Anyway, where were we? Oh yeah: You are going to die today.
• Virgo: Whatever you do, I do not recommend trying to talk to Leo today. That dude does not take bad news well. Also, you’d better stuff Scorpio in the closet, because Libra just got home and saw her car parked out front.
• Libra: Put down the gun, Libra. Put down the gun, Libra. Libra? Libra? Put down the gun. Put down the gun, Libra.
• Scorpio: Jupiter is rising in Sagittarius today, suggesting unexpected opportunities, and a supportive Venus-Pluto alignment favors assertive action towards healing old wounds. On that note, I’d suggest you grab one of Virgo’s five-irons and brain Libra with it before she shoots your “boyfriend.”
• Prince: Despite the daily motions of the stars and planets, you are still Prince, the freakiest, funkiest, fucking-est entertainer of all time. So guess what: you’re going to have an awesome day.
• Cancer: You have cancer.
• Capricorn: You have Capricorn. Nahh, I’m just kidding, old astrologer’s joke. You have cancer.

The human capacity for language is amazing. Our ability to coin words, for example, is so great that reality itself often seems to be unable to catch up. Take numbers: not content with naming the first 10⁶⁰³ of them, we feel compelled to invent labels for numbers that don’t even exist.

For instance, if I had asked Raphael to not leave his goddamn socks on the kitchen floor somewhere between twelve and twenty times, but wasn’t sure exactly, I could say, “Raphael, for the umpteenth time, pick them up or I’m setting them on fucking fire.”

The fact is, however, that this particular circumstance doesn’t arise very often, and that many times I find myself confronted with an entirely different number-that-isn’t-real and have no made-up-word with which to express it. To that end, I’ve devised some new numbers in order fill a few holes in the lexicon:

• A fewty: An amount between a few and forty. Especially useful when lying about one’s age or competing in number-of-jellybean-guessing contests.
• A oneplex: A one, followed by one one. (That is to say — eleven.) Also a good name for a building in which you keep one of something.
• A jousand: Like, thousands and thousands. Generally used slangily, as in, “You totally want to have, like, a jousand of his babies.” Compare with “zousand”, “trousand”, and “squidousand.” A further variation, “hojousand”, is used ironically.
• A “hobo’s dozen”: Eleven. So called because, if you ask a hobo for a dozen of anything, they’re probably going to eat one before they give it to you. Stupid hobos.
• : That weird “S” thing from 12th grade math. I don’t know what it means, and neither does anyone else. So how about this: now it means “seven”. You guys should thank me — I’ve just saved you a lot of time.

Just a quick cross-post: As mentioned elsewhere, Raphael and I acted in a series of short Comedy Central promos a few months ago. We didn’t have a chance to see them air, but that didn’t stop me from ripping the video from the promo DVD reel they sent us! Here’s my favorite of the pieces — links to the rest can be found on the Olde English blog.

Jonathan Richman - New England

I listened to this song at least three times while traveling home from Montreal this week. (Yes, I consider New York to be part of New England.) Of course, this is only the tip of the iceberg that is my recent Jonathan Richman obsession, but this captures his combination of sincerity and childish playfulness that I find so irresistible.

Citay - First Fantasy

This band is what happens if you take everything I love about The Fucking Champs, subtract the geeky metal fixation, and add it to a Yo La Tengo slow jam. And we’re floating.

Johnny Cash - Folsom Prison Blues (San Quentin version)

Most people are familiar with Johnny Cash’s famous performance of this song at Folsom Prison, which is a shame, because the version he recorded at San Quentin blew the roof off the place. The beat is so propulsive that Cash couldn’t stop singing if he tried; the energy is simply infectious. The real highlight, though, is the guitar solo, which still sounds fifteen years ahead of its time. “Oh, how sweet!”

Today’s Daily News has eleven separate articles on the Mets’ season-ending loss yesterday. So at least one good thing has come of the team’s incredible collapse — they’re finally getting some decent newspaper coverage.