Matt Stone, Norman Lear, Trey Parker
by Alex Carnevale
My little brother Danny drove me to the train station in Mystic on Saturday night. We had a conversation that had me a little upset. To wit, after I was on the train for five minutes, I sent Danish the following e-mail:
Sign my anger issues may be getting the best of me:
I’m riding the night train after thanksgiving, also known as the brooklyn hipster express you wish was headed to a camp of some kind. I’m already super-mad at my generation for being so fucking useless and stupid, and now this.
This girl sitting in front of me waits like 30 minutes before trying to push the seat back completely which would not even allow me to work my blackberry. This elicits the following reaction from me.
“Excuse me,” tapping her on the shoulder because she has iNazi headphones on, “I realize you don’t care about other people and you think you’re hot, but the reality is that you’re inconsiderate, and your eyebrows are ugly looking. Move your seat to an upright position before I throw you out the emergency exit.”
She was mortified, but as least I have some foot room.
Anyway, as I said, what happened with my brother probably didn’t put me in the best of moods. It wasn’t anything he did; it was simply the nobility of his plight. Also he was playing some music he swears by but I don’t endorse in the least. He likes it so here it is:
“Eagle Front” — Barefoot Truth (mp3)
“Roll If Ya Fall” — Barefoot Truth (mp3)
We were headed over the drawbridge into downtown Mystic:
to the train station.
Here was the hard-hitting interview between myself and my brother Dan, who is quite probably about to turn 21 in January:
Me: How are things with you and the gf?
Dan: There is no gf.
Me: Eventually you’ll learn why calling it that doesn’t make me a huge loser. In time.
Dan: She doesn’t want to be exclusive.
Me: That’s probably incorrect, women just want to nest.
Dan: She doesn’t want to nest right now.
Me: Just wait until you turn 24, all women want to know is if you have your Jew card (you do, barely), and if you make money at your job. Then they’ll just criticize you for approximately ever. You’re all set, though. Women will be asking you to pull their hair for the next fifty years. You’re cute as a button, you’re like the white Malcolm X except way less of a revolutionary.
Dan: I’ll keep that in mind.
Memo to my brother: Dan, Saw you were Donatello in your facebook pictures. I mean at least you’re not Leonardo, but it’s close, that’s all I’m saying. Sunshine, Alex
Me: Have you tried telling her your brother has a Prezler Award-winning blog?
Dan: Not yet.
Me: Might want to throw that in there, see if it sparkles with the girl. Have you tried the silent treatment?
Dan: That may be my next option.
Me: I recently invented a variation on the silent treatment, I will permit you to license it for use. It’s the silent treatment, except you talk about the feelings you aren’t expressing via veiled references on your blog.
Dan: I don’t have a blog.
Me: What about the one you made about the Patriots?
Dan: I forgot about that.
He’s half Jewish that’s just the way it is some things will never change
Me: I haven’t, everyone has a blog. She probably doesn’t read Dan the Man Sports, though. You should make a new blog, this time making it all about your feelings and/or health care problems. Hillary Clinton has a secret livejournal that she uses to post video satires of the Taxicab Confessions and pictures of Bill’s cysts. I believe it’s up for a Webby this year. Did you see our dog Rosie’s blog?
Dan: No, Rosie has a blog?
Me: She didn’t give you the password? This is embarrassing. I am embarrassed for you. (pause) Her password is donttasemebro.
We arrive at the train station, where we are ten minutes early. My brother acts like I’m going to make him wait for ten minutes because his new car has heat. He’s lived with me for many years, he should know I’m a cuddly polar bear.
Me: OK, see you later. Thanks for Halo 2, feel better. Here is my last piece of advice for you, and I hope it lasts you the next forty years until I die and the sorrow of my death overwhelms the importance of this lesson. People only want what they feel they can lose. Here’s a copy of Sting’s Fields of Gold album. I think it will properly convey the rest of my message. Sunshine!
Alex Carnevale is the editor of This Recording.
“Fields of Gold” — Sting (mp3)
PREVIOUSLY ON THIS RECORDING
Danish’s first post ever. I’ll have to rerun this one with DVD commentary at some point.
Molly shined on like a crazy diamond.