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Ku-less: Hai Kulture’d – Impatient Zero

Conjunctiv    

Wrascally pink           

Bunny slip  

  

Pink Eye for the

Geek’d Hai

I apologize for the odd

format of this post and

the Half-Ku (Well, I don’t

apologize for that – this IS,

after all, a Ku-less post

where we keep our two

readers [1]informed of

all the ‘hai-larious’

shenanigans that go

on among The KuJo in the

back room of  The

Bubblegum Nightclub.

It is supposed to be Haiku

free,  so 10 syllables =

bonus!)

(You lucky two readers

 [2]– you!)

So why this unraveled

Mobius strip of a

post?

I have one eye …

I woke up Sunday with

my right eye fused shut.

Apparently, I have a case

of the ‘Pink Eye’. Color

me surprised. Certainly, it

is a few notches down from

Kafka’s ‘Goodnight Moon’

where you wake up a

cockroach, but it is still

unsettling. [3] Midnight

Pixies are supposed to

bring me little candies

and keep my juice glass

filled and covers

tucked in while I sleep,

not drip infectious pus

into my eye.

Not my definition of

Sugar Pluminess.

I have to hand it to you,

Pink Eye, you are indeed

aptly named. My eye is

much like a pickled beet

sitting on the salad bar

of my face.

The thing

about childhood diseases

that shouldn’t manifest

beyond age 6 is the

nomenclature is all flash

and no substance.

Check out the ones

best left for Laura

Ingalls Wilder or

The Littlest of The

Little Women:

Scarlet Fever or

Yellow Fever.

I’m sure they nailed the

hex color digits on those

but walked  a deceptively

euphemistic line on the

‘Fever’ end

of the spectrum.

‘Oh by fever you mean –

ummmm-

Death.

OK .

I see.’

Did Bubonic Plague corner

the colorful Death market?

Was anything else a cheap

imitation? Leaving a 17oo’s

tri-cornered fedora sporting

Don Draper  to spin

doctor a ‘fever’ market.

Accept Ye No Olde

Subsitutees!

Plague was so 500 Falls ago!

‘Fever’ is the new ‘Black’!

I  have to hand it to you

Pink Eye – you are spot on.

My eye is pink.

10 out of 10 for accuracy,

but minus several

billion for neglecting to

recreate the whole situation.

Let’s speed

reader disclaimer this sucker.

Pink-eye-true-but-also-

sticking-together-every-

five-seconds-while-it-

weeps-like-a-bit-of-

Virginal-statuary-in-

an-off-the-map-Mexican-

town-and-feeling-like-you

-were-socked-about-the-

face-mostly-in-the-

region-of-the-eye-with-

a-bit-of-stick-like-a-

celebratory-Pinata-in-the

-town-square-of-said-

quaint-remote-Mexican-

town-upon-discovery-

of-Blessed-weepage-in-

general-and-a-red-hot-

large-gauge-knitting-

needle-fresh-and-wooly-

from-a-half-finished-over-

sized-Christmas-sweater-

from-Nana-Kulture-in-the-

iris-come-direct-

light.

So here I sit with half my

face buried in a pillow that

will be burned like The

Velveteen Rabbit in about

48 hours,typing unmerrily

away. I thought I might

make do with my coolio

tinted computer shades and

the lights turned down like

a blogging Audrey Hepburn

in ‘WaitUntil A Certain Amount

of Dimness’.

No such luck.

To make matters worse –

three of us have it: myself,

‘Erudite Chick Who Is Too

Cool For This’ ,

 and Seward.

We went out Saturday

night and woke up like

pre-schoolers on carpet

swatches come the

morrow.

Misery loves

company and Seward loves

misery. He takes every

illness as  a personal

conspiracy by his body politic.

He has determined that one

of us is ‘Patient Zero’ and

means to flush the culprit out

like Cotton Mather on a seaside

holiday in Salem.

Nothing makes a sick day

worse than receiving

sporadic text quotes from

Ol Johnny Carpenter’s

‘The Thing’.

‘It’s going to get a hell of a

lot worse, before it gets any

better!’

Here’s hoping tomorrow

is a brand new day. [4]

Contagiously,

—Hai

Pop Culture, Haikulture, Haiku, Entertainment, Humor, Poetry

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Meta-Notoriety    (↵ returns to text)
  1. [and possibly supportive parents

    who may have figured out what

    an RSS feed is all about]

  2. [with a doubtful nod

    to technologically inept

    parents]

  3. Surveys show that human-to-insect

    transmogrification trumps ‘Ewww! My eye is all goopy!!!!’

    9 times out of 10.

  4. (Perhaps one with depth

    perception – if that’s

    not asking too much.)

Kindl(e)-ing – The Haitwo

It’s a Brave New World!

Just adopt our fantastic

Plastic point of view…

 

Dial E- for Evil…     Part the Second

Back to the I-Pad for some Nook-ie

 

A Brave New World?

I’ll hold my breath, E-rat, but I don’t think it will get better. [1]

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

I am not about to jump on the e-book e-band e-wagon!

 

I am having trouble enough wrapping my head around the latest trend of a book cover’s need to graciously announce to me that it is indeed ‘A Novel. [2] Call me old-fashioned. Why would I give myself over to the E-side?

 

No amount of gigas of convincing will work. I won’t be going back to your I-pad for any Nook-ie.

 

I will not be moved; I will not be shaken.

 

I will tell you why.

 

Hell no – I won’t glow!

 

I like to curl up with a good book, not a flat screen thermonuclear reactor.

It probably isn’t THAT bad, but I’m just a wee bit nutso. Remind me of the fact that my cell phone is giving me a tumor via my ear canal and I will immediately cast it aside in horror and return my eyes to the road. My ear will tingle for about three days until I ‘goldfish’ [3] that little factoid and resume my cellphone lifestyle and textual relationships.

It’s not that I’m a Technophobe; I’m more a Tumorfreephile.

I fall asleep with books and wake up with them either on my head or being utilized as a pillow booster seat. I dread the idea of some variety of Kindley ™ product pulsing by my face all night like a lightbulb and latex creation from circa 70’s Doctor Who. [4] Best case scenario: I’d wind up with <> burnt on my retina as a permanent after image.

Thank you-no!

 

I am not a Nook!

 

I will be the first to admit I have never had a love affair with Barnes & Nobles. I’ve always been a Borders girl and really have a bad case of ‘Readers without Borders’ Syndrome.

 

Dear Borders,
I’m sorry using my 25-50% off coupons every week made you go bankrupt.
It was really super fun while it lasted!
Love,
Me

 P.S. I miss your Sugar and Spice holiday coffee drink. I bought a quart of the syrup for 3 dollars at the bankruptcy sale and it doesn’t taste the same. I like to believe it is from the lack of love and not the fact that it was 6 months past expiration.

 

I have had to return to a Barnes & Nobles world with my tail between my legs and we are mixing as well as Merlot and late night e-mailing.

 

I have also encountered The Nook Man.

 

Firstly, Sir, your waving of your little device in my face while surrounded by two stories of books is a little too ‘Le Roi est mort, vive le Roi!’ paradoxical for my tastes.

Secondly, you are kind of a d*ck!

 

I guess looks can be deceiving. He looks like Burl Ives.

Hai Kulture, Pop Culture, Entertainment, Humor, Poetry, Essays, Television, Cryogenic Burl Ives

That’s close (but without the ‘snow face’)

So more like…

Hai Kulture, Pop Culture, Poetry, Essay, Enterainment, Television, Humor, The Cryogenic Stages of Burl Ives

Eh, close enough…

I don’t think it is beyond reason for me to expect him to be holly and jolly and not douchey and well…douchey.

I’m pretty much black and white. I love many, many things and hate the remainders. (Pudding: YUM! Rice Pudding: Abomination!). There is no middle ground and I am quick to judge. Once you land in my mental Gitmo, you aren’t likely to see the light of day and feel the warmth of my sunny disposition again. On my first queasy return to the dark woods and green mile carpets of B&N, in the very first minute, I witnessed this exchange:

 

Poor Confused Woman with Child: Can you tell me where the art books are?

 

Nook Man in all his Nookiness: The information desk is over there. *sniff*

 

Oh-that sniff. Never, never, never punctuate a sentence with a sniff. I may be a little over-sensitive to snifferage as I am often mistakenly mistaken for a person who may steal from your establishment [5], but I’m not unreasonable. I’ll forgive high pollen counts, flu face fauceting, I-just-rubbed-my-cat-all-over-your-face issues, and nostrils packed with The Anthrax. This was the sniff of privilege. This was the sniff of ‘I can’t be bothered’. This was the ‘I am Nook Man-hear me sniff!’ sniff.

 

This was the sniff of rude. Welcome to my circle of enemies.

 

He knew damn well where the art books were. He is an employee of the store. I can’t believe all he ever does is march up to his little oh-so-clever Nook nook every morning and begin to play with his snake oils. Not to set foot anywhere else is just a wee bit too Kafka-esque for anyone. Even if he was unsure, it was merely a matter of ‘upstairs’ vs ‘downstairs’ to hold the side of nasal dismissal and be passing helpful.

He became the bane of my Barnes and Nobles existence right then and there. Now, as I pass through the double double-doored vestibule lined with ‘Please Steal These’ short-listers, I take pause. I prepare for battle. Directly across from the entrance he waits behind his little wall, smug and sniffing with a penchant for sweater vests like it’s College Fair Day and he has a pamphlet too precious to spare me for an institution I had better safety net more than the Wallendas did.

I am ready for you Nook Man. I push past the 3 dollar Self-Henna kits that call to me. I bounce through the heavy doors with some difficulty, as they aren’t very bounce friendly. I stand directly across from him. I feel the brief intake of air across my cheek as he prepares a sniff. Innocently, I turn my head from side to side, as if getting my bearings and say ‘a-hole’ just under my breath as I bounce off to my desired bits of shelvery.

Sweet, sweet subliminal victory!

 

Recently, for some reason, he was dressed in Darth Vader garb, but with his ‘Burly’ countenance looked more like an off his meds Lucas shambling about a Skywalker Ranch BBQ. Steeled by the sugary liquid courage of two raspberry Italian sodas, I approached, feigning interest in his Nookery. I flashed him my most Industrial Light & Magic of smiles and with eyebrow arched at his wardrobe, simply informed him: ‘That’s not really working out for me…’

Exeunt Hai and Bouncing.

 

I’m loathe to admit this, but if Nook Man was indeed a more ‘the holly and the Ivesy’ grandpa character, he might have an e-customer in me. Every year, Yukon Cornelius and the gang decorate my entertainment center. I would have trusted this chap on beard alone with the same unquestioning acceptance I give a waistcoated snowman who leaves snail tracks in the snow without any means of momentum. Sadly, his tale of ‘Bumbles,’ told by an idiot lantern, is full of light and pixels and signifies nothing.

 

I’m Uneasy Being Green

 

Pop Culture Hai Kulture Essay Humor Poetry Entertainment Soylent Green Meme

Soylent Meme

 

People have tried to convince me that e-readers are green. I think I’ve bundled enough newspapers and separated enough glass from plastic to read a book and still hug a tree. Books (and probably the occasional 3 dollar Self-Henna kits) are pulped and repulped daily to make – get this – more books! They have a life cycle and I’m fine with that. I don’t want to tread on any butterflies in that regard. [6]. I don’t really know if green is the new black. Soylent Green was about as green as you can get and that was made out of SPOILER ALERT. [7] I don’t really want to munch down on Edward G. Robinson with as much gusto as I would give the opposite of Fig Newtons. I don’t know what Soylent Read is made out of, but I know it’s not paper. [8]

 

Angry Birds and Albatross

 

I already have a plethora of albatrossi around my neck.

Is someone really going to steal my stupid book with the wizard on it?

 

Pop Culture Hai Kulture Haiku Essay Poetry Entertainment Tech Humor

Rhyme of the New Technology

 

 
  Hai Kulture Poetry Pop Culture Essay Humor Entertainment  ‘Hey there Kindle Lady! You look real sassy! Do you know where I am? I’m over here, splashing around in the sand and the surf! Do you know where my stupid book with the wizard on the cover is? On my chair! Come on and join me! I give your Kindle a 98% chance of *poof* before your toe hits water! [9]

 

 

 

You had better chain that albatross round your neck like a wallet in a nu metal band.

 

There’s Sex-e and there’s Sexy.

 

There’s no E- in aphrodisiac.

 

Books are sexy. The smell of books can be intoxicating. The scent of a bookstore always tickles my nose like the faint musk on an absent partner’s bedside. I have dreamt of walking through bookstores in varying amounts of underthings. I have felt the breeze of turned pages kiss my skin. I have heard the lover’s whisper of word laden parchment as it unfurls. I have pulled volumes atop me to feel the weight of their embrace. I have danced forbiddenly amongst shelves in my nightscapes.

 

Radio Shack- not so much.

 

I’m buying an ethernet cable-why do you need my address?

Creepy.

 

 

E- and I- and You – Not Me

 

Books hold too much life to be binaried by I’s and E’s. They tell stories. Characters grow, live, laugh, cry, and die amidst their pages. An author, a person, a human being shares these tales, binds a glimpse of their soul between two covers. Books are to be held and to be loved.

When is a book not a book? When it’s a download. When is a bed not a bed? When is a chair not a chair? When it’s a museum piece. Behind velvet ropes there is functionality without any use. We can look, but we can’t really touch. How much can be felt without truly feeling.

How can I bury my nose in a book when all I’ll do is smudge the screen?

 

I fear for the words on glass as much as I do for the ones behind it.

 —Hai [10]/[11]

 

 

 

 

Meta-Notoriety    (↵ returns to text)
  1. No offense, Aladdin, I’m more a ‘Never had a Friend like Me’ girl. *wah wah wah waaaaahh wah* I love that part!
  2. Really? REALLY?!?! I never would have known!

    I operate under the assumption that anything that truly feels the need to announce that it is ‘A Novel’ will most likely wind up as ‘A Coaster’.

  3. I transit very poorly from short-term to long-term memory. Sherlock Holmes described the human memory as an attic and I can never seem to pull the string hard enough to get those weird folding laddery-step thingies to fall out of the ceiling panel-mabob.  I call it ‘goldfishing’. My friends call it ‘quirky’. My mom calls it ‘the implication of recreational drug use’.
  4. Oh BBC Radiophonic Workshop – was there nothing you couldn’t do with discarded washer woman gloves, Christmas lights, and a never-ending supply of abandoned gravel pits!
  5. These strategically ripped tights are the retro-grading height of geekanista people! I’m not the bloody Artful Dodger!
  6. ‘The Sound of Thunder’ by Ray Bradbury. Step on a crack – you break your mother’s back. Step on a butterfly – yu fook upp evreetheeng!
  7. Hai Kulture, Pop Culture, Haiku, Poetry, Essay, Humor, Entertainment, Film, Soylent Green

     

    C’mon! Am I really spoiling anything here?

    It’s people! IT’S MADE OUT OF PEEEEEEEEEEEEOPLE!

    (I hope you had fun doing that Mr. Hartman. You always made me smile. 🙁 )

     

     

     

  8. It’s not paper! IT’S MADE OUT OF NOT PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRR!
  9. I just returned from a beach vacation with every stupid book with a wizard on the cover intact. <<Click Here for Booyah!>>
  10. I’ll continue to fight the good fight. But my heart is heavy, for I know, Dear Reader, that in a way this message was brought to you today by the letter
  11. Ku-dos to ‘The Balcs’ for  giving me the idea for this piece during a 5 minute text conversation that started on Huxley and degraded to a want of mini nachos.

Ku-less – Hai-lidays: Unjump The Shark Day

Hai Kulture, Pop Culture, Haiku, Entertainment, Humor, Television, Trope, Jump the Shark, The Fonz, Unjump the Shark,

Taking Back ‘The Cool’

 

September 20th, 1977

‘The Fonz’ clad in swim trunks and leather jacket jumped a shark, forever reducing his level of cool with pop anthropologists everywhere and forcing him to take up the cross of idiom.

 

September 20th, 2011

Help ‘The Fonz’ unjump that shark by going out and doing something cool!

 

Bang a jukebox, snap your fingers and make random girls appear out of nowhere, or defeat Robin Williams’ mind control with the power of your thumb.

 

Help the memory of ‘The Fonz’ be cool again by being cool yourself!

 

Make Today A Day That Will Live in Inf ‘aaay’my!!!!

 

Sponsored by Hai Kulture   (http://haikulture.com/) and The Bubblegum Nightclub (http://www.bubblegumnightclub.com/) [1]

Facebook Event Page: https://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=166198736796423

     


 


Meta-Notoriety    (↵ returns to text)
  1. Be cool responsibly! Event sponsors are not held accountable for broken or damaged fists from jukebox banging, frustration at the inability to find a jukebox or make girls appear from nowhere in this day and age, macing from said girls who appear from nowhere (or just general female street presence), hypothermia from wearing only a scarf and t-shirt in colder climes, Houdini water tank deaths, getting blown to ‘Only Boots-dom Come’ by the Candyman, getting lost in time with an anthropomorphic dog that mimics you, and any and all mishaps, injuries, arrests, and fatalities that may occur while attempting to be ‘cool’.

Kindl(e)-ing – The Haiku

Page turner? <Tap Screen>

Books dwindling Kindl(e)ing

All Pulp’d Fiction

 

Dial  E  for  E-vil…     Part the First

Fahrenheit 1832

 

I enjoy books.

 

I like to turn pages. I like to hold books. I need chaperones in bookstores, as I wear my old coat to buy the new book. When I travel, books are security. [1] I can always retreat to the safe haven of dog-eared page 112 in a strange place. At home, I stack and shelve good books, like a Collyer Starter Kit. [2] I throw bad books across the room. I  awake  on the sofa to a book on my face and reading glasses pokes to my side more times than I care to mention.

 

I like to read.

 

And mostly, I read garbage. [3] / [4]

 

Cast aspersions and arch eyebrows all you want at wizards, dragons, and vampires – the song remains the same: I enjoy books. I like to read.

 

Reading is FUNdamental

 

Reading is a rainbow.

 

I said: ‘Reading is good. Can we start the story now?’

 

Sure, here’s the story…

 

Just let me find my book.

 

The thing is – I can’t. On a recent Amazon mousing-spree, I discovered two new words for my urbane dictionary. Well, two words and a not-word bit:

e-book only 

 

Look at that ‘e hyphen’. *shudder*

It doesn’t belong there. It just dangles like a hair to be plucked, a hangnail to be trimmed, a strange alphabetic blotch you better have checked by your physician. Your book has a growth and it’s not long for this world.

My books were gone. [5] Well-they were there.  Let’s not split e-hairs. I just couldn’t get them in the mail. I just couldn’t hold them. I just couldn’t love them. My books had become The Boy in the Plastic Bubble [6]

The Amazon screen just stared back at me coolly. It didn’t understand me. ‘You can still have them’, it seemed to say with a mocking, haughty flicker,’No fuss. No muss. No mail.’

‘The time has come to futureproof your reading, Sweetheart…’

‘…or weren’t you aware?’

‘Just wait five seconds for this little bar to fill and…’

My palm slapped the screen as if to cover a cathode monster’s face with no afghan at the ready. The static monitor charge tickled my fingers like the coax of a faltering, unfamiliar lover.

I buried my face in invisible pillows to avoid the smug wink of the monitor and the inevitable subliminal sales pitch as old as time. Words used to convince and cajole since Neolithic wheel salesmen walked the Earth, hair slicked back with  primordial ooze.

‘You know you want it…’

 

It didn’t know me.

 

I wanted fuss. I wanted muss. I wanted packages.

 

I wanted books.

 

Things to read. Things to hold. Things to love.

 

Not things to click or slide or flick or drag.

 

Things to open.

 

Books.

 

Books are meant to be opened –  for they are gifts.

 

I Sing the Body Electric!

 

And turn a deaf ear to the sirens’ call of the Body Electric-Electric…

Pop Culture Haiku Literature Tech Kindle Entertainment Humor

Fahrenheit 1832 

 [7]

(To Be Continued)

—Hai

 

 

 

 

Meta-Notoriety    (↵ returns to text)
  1. Books are grand security blankets. However, Sir Hops-a-lot, valiant Knight of the Pond Table, always does his part at night.  He lost an eye defending me during the Great Shadow that Looked like a Clown Attack of  ’80. I love you – Sir Hops-a-lot!
  2. Those Darn Collyer Brothers (’47, Columbia Pictures) I have been told I would straddle the hoarder fence, if there wasn’t so much junk in the way. I’m fine. I just have stuff. I haven’t taken to booby-trapping stacks of old newspapers. Now, Ariel the Mermaid-she’s a hoarder. Go intervent her.
  3. Wizard or Dragon on the cover? Check. Enticing cover art that looks like it should be called ‘The Wizard’s Concubine’ and has nothing to do with the story? Check. Possible vampires turned private investigator? Check. My reading list is about as predictable as plucky hero amnesia in a JRPG.
  4. I’m not alone. Most of The KuJo read garbage – *ahem* – ‘escapist literature’. Seward was reading Unexplained! Strange Sightings, Incredible Occurrences, & Puzzling Physical Phenomena! New Edition! by Jerome Clark the other day. He said he appreciated the front cover enthusiasm.  
  5. The majority of the middle rungs in Glen Cook’s Garrett P.I. series.  Noir detective in a fantasy setting? These books-so not garbage. Check them out!

    (While you can…….)

  6. Ohmygah! Travolta carrying paint cans in the opening of Saturday Night Fever : cool. Travolta flopping and rolling down the street carrying paint cans with the aid of a robo-rubber glove sticking out of the side of transparent beach ball : e-books.
  7. The temperature at which Silicon burns.  Truism. I crunched some numbers.

Ku-less: Hai World! – September the Beginningish

 What’s Happening at The Bubblegum Nighclub

 

Hello Kulturati!

As we enter the month of September and lean in through the doorway a bit,  it’s time once again to check in with The KuJo  and see what’s going on in the back room  of The Bubblegum Nightclub.

Part the First: We have been dealing with some ‘real world’ technical issues in the past two weeks or so.  Between hurricanes and why-aren’t-they-calling-this-a-hurricane weather, we have had trouble keeping our feet dry while getting our Interwebby sea legs. We lost power/Internet/power & Internet/ at The Bubblegum Nightclub on various days and for various durations over the past few weeks. Thankfully, we got the Haikulture 2.0 Reboot in before the Death Storms and I was able to purchase Ramona-style shiny red rubber boots on expense. [1].

Thank you to everyone who has messaged us in one way or another about the Reboot look! We like it and are extremely happy you do. It was exhausting Tron-ning it together piece by piece over 72 hours of monitor strain on the new ‘Hai Kultron 2600’. (I was ecstatic over getting my new-used-Interwebby Persona  specific-rebuilt laptop until I realized it meant surfing the circuitry for Reboot was Event Horizon. )

Part the Second: We have opened the doors to our KuJo companion sister site:

The Bubblegum Nightclub

An anti-Social Networking Contrariwise Blog

http://www.bubblegumnightclub.com/

And what is THAT exactly?

It’s minimalistic. It’s materialistic. It’s virtualistic. It’s algonquinalistic.

(It’s also easier to maintain Webicalistic  Presence  as we can only spew out Essayicalistic Contistic once or twice a week.)

Feel free to check it out for yourself. 🙂

Part the Third-Back in Hai World: – I’m on vacation this week and Seward is recovering from his piecemeal Hurrication from the previous. This Brain Trust and the rest of The  KuJo Collective did unite for beachside de-bocce-ry this past weekend at  Skeeeeeeeeeeeeballlllll! Fest ’11 – our own personal we-don’t-rate Dragon*Con- Kuvention with minor costuming and major cotton candy and funnel cakery. [2]/[3] I flew the official Hai Kulture kite with ad banner (no hits) and Seward held a panel in a sand fort (no attendees/one hit from a 5-year old’s plastic shovel). (We may have pictures once we determine how wet the disposable camera got.)

I’m posting this via E-post (which I finally figured out – go me!) and apologies to all for my Kindl(e)ing post that went up as a rough draft for about 24 hours as the e-edits didn’t take (before I finally figured it out – boo me!).  E-chastisement to Seward for knocking out all thumbnails as he took a turn in the Captain’s chair and tried to help me suss things out.  Kindl(e)-ing II should be up this weekend if Seward decides to stop plowing through DVD sets because he’s ‘The TV guy’ and resume ad hoc editorship [S.1] and he also needs to finally finish thumbnailing Darkside.  Now! [4] / [S.2] / [H.1]

Kummentary on deck for the coming weeks:

Lost without LOST

Seward shares an open love letter to the longest relationship he had in his life

 

Red Dead Dawning

Can Disney’s ‘Teen Machine’ output protect us from a Russian invasion?

 

Back to the beach [5]

 

Keep trope alive!

— Hai

Meta-Notoriety    (↵ returns to text)
  1. Shhhhhhhh!
  2. Yum
  3. YUM YUM YUM
  4. I am ‘The TV Guy’! (I also control the keys to the ‘Hai Kultron 2600’ at the moment… I am drunk with power! HA!)
  5. I will slap the face off your face, if you don’t —Love, Hai
  6. Talk, talk — Indifference, Seward
  7. E-footnote: You texted me ‘Eureka and Weeds – 14.99 Best Buy!’ and then went dark for two days. I know exactly what is happening up there! —Miffed, Hai
  8. Or the squishy between-the-toes quicksand that remains of the beach on the East Coast. 🙁 It’s been downright Gozer the Gozerian here.

Ku-less – Hai-lidays: Weekend of the Wheaton

Pop Culture, Entertainment, Television, Wil Wheaton, Geek Love, Labor Day,

Wheekend of the Wheaton

 

This Labor Day Weekend

Hai Kulture Vs. The W2

In The Mud!!!

[1] / [2]

 (With download of Mud App for I-Phone or Droid)

 

Hai Kulture Presents: The Get More ‘Like’ s than Wil Wheaton Weekend

 

On a Facebook near you

https://www.facebook.com/Haikulture

(So near-it’s just a single click!)

Get The Invite! “Love’ the ‘Like’

And please, please, please…share it with your friends like a warm and friendly STD…OF LOVE!

Only you can prevent Wil Wheaton’s popularity over our own.

Fizzy Fruity Drinks with little umbrellas all around!

(Sponsored by the Society for Shamelessly Increasing Traffic on This Website)
(It’s the last time-we promise—–Hai 🙂 )

 

 

 

Meta-Notoriety    (↵ returns to text)
  1. Mud  App optional. Mud App only applies where applicable. Hai Kulture is not responsible for any data loss due to the downloading of the Mud App. Hai Kulture is not affiliated with Mud App. Hai Kukture would actually prefer if you didn’t download Mud App as these are new shoes. I mean where are we going to change? Do YOU even HAVE a spare tankini?

    Mud App may cause an increased compulsion to gamble. If using, downloading, or even thinking of Mud App and you exhibit signs of a heart attack – please consult a physician. Actually, if you show signs of a heart attack, consult a physician in general. It seems like a good idea. Oh and definitely if you start bleeding out of an orifice-any of them. Do not download Mud App on an empty stomach. Do not use Mud App if Mud App persists for more than 4 hours. Do not operate heavy machinery while using Mud App. Do not get Mud App in eyes. Do not taunt Mud App.

    Do not ingest Mud App as rumor has it is made from that stuff that was in Stretch Armstrong™ and that was bad.

    Remember- your Mom wouldn’t let you get one after watching the news. Then she called your friend’s mom and said ‘Stretch Armstrong™ is filled with space toxins’ and your friend’s mom made him throw it out. He was mad at you for weeks. He stopped sharing his fruit roll-ups with you and almost made Charlie McGlusky his best friend in your place. Remember Charlie McGlusky?! That freak ate paste and almost replaced you on the great 3rd grade totem pole of popularity. Do you want that to happen again over some stupid Mud App????!!! No!!!!!!!

    Those were dark times. It isn’t worth it.

  2. You know who probably IS downloading Mud App – Wil Wheaton. Do you want to be like him? I mean if Wil Wheaton jumped off a bridge…

Shark Weak: Da Fonz – Da Hai-Two

Jukebox. Pinball. Lights.

 Broken Washer? No Problem!

Leather clad Clapper ™

 

 

Shark Weak: Part II

Unjumping the Shark: The Fonz-a-thon Equilibrium Principle

 

 

As a nation we have turned our back on the Fonz. We mockingly celebrate The Shark for a week every year and celebrate mocking The King of Cool with idiomatic stigma.

 

Keep your ‘Shark Week’ – I’ll celebrate ‘Jump Day!’ September 20th:  A day in 1977 the huddled masses bathed in technicolor glare, held their collective breath, and began a long, slow raspberry in the direction of Arthur Herbert Fonzarelli.

 

Let the ill and somewhat spittley winds blow as they will for I know that Fonzie achieved a Nirvana of Cool that day. The path to enlightenment is discovered through vision, deed, and righteousness.

 

Vision – He saw the shark.

 

Deed – He jumped the shark.

 

Righteousness – Swim trunks and a leather jacket for ‘Ye it was asked among the people is there a raiment more righteous?’ Fonz 3:16 [11]

 

In modern tropism, what The Fonz achieved that day was a ‘Lockdown’ [12] : a single crystalized moment of awesome awesomness that embeds itself in one’s psyche. This moment becomes the fundamental image of recall overriding all other impressions of a show’s run.

 

Pop Culture Haiku Entertainment Television Humor LOST Lockdown The Fonz Shark Weak

The ‘Lockdown’

 

Above: Brain Neuroimaging- PET result of a ‘Lockdown’

Subject was asked to recall impressions of a certain TV show

 

This kernel of pure awesome trapped in the amber of recall is so ingrained that it can blind one to the exponential lessening in awesome that inevitably follows thereafter. In fact, in our Hai Sci labs down at The Kujo, we ran some Nielson correlations. At its most potent, The Lockdown has been known to act as a dayglo and blacklight beacon, so powerful it can shepherd one through a mediocre final season of randomness and about 45 minutes into a finale of ‘You said you wouldn’t!!!!’ [13]

 

Hero worship can subsist for eternity on the endless Mobius strip of re-runs.

 

With regret and the advent of Nick-at-Night and TV Land, I caught glimpses of a tarnished idol that I never saw in the endless re-run loop of childhood. What I saw wasn’t cool – but chilling. The Fonz had been Oliver!’d [14]. The Fonz was teaching at a tech school like a poor man’s Kotter. With nary a shark in sight, I crushed that uncool shadow of The Man into a blip of light with a quick remote press.

 

But I come to praise Fonzarelli, not to bury him.

 

Whatever chinks in his worn leather armor I refused to witness, cannot be placed on the doorstep of his garage apartment (which he probably didn’t even have anymore-because who was he?) The blame cannot be placed on the Fonz, the shark, or any amount of jumping betwixt the two. The blame lies on writers, producers, and executives who simply don’t stop. The same triumvirate who foist a thing like Urkel on us and then poke him like a baited bear so he dances on our screens until he is in need of cataract surgery.

 

Oh there be sharks in these waters that even the Fonz cannot conquer.

 

There is a saturation point in entertainment that no one seems to bother with. A boundary defined and determined by what Hai Sci Laboratories calls The Fonz-a-thon Equilibrium Principle:

 

Pop Culture Haiku Entertainment Humor Television Fonzie The Fonz Jump the Shark Shark Weak

Too much of a cool thing = tragedy

 

 

(AAYYY) N= U+M+M+M

 

as N ∑ ∞ [15]

 

Too much of a cool thing eventually becomes tragic

 

Leather Jacket: Cool

 

Leather Pants: Tragedy

 

One Eyepatch: Cool

 

Two Eyepatches: Tragedy

 

Sombrero: Cool

 

The Alamo: Tragedy

 

Just know when to hold, fold, and walk away Burbank.

 

I never wore my sky blue Fonzie tee until it was bursting at pubescent seams. I retired it with reverence to a drawer and I’m sure it now resides entombed in cardboard like an Ark of The Covenant in Awesome, shining with black light and dayglo cool in the shadow warehouse called Mom’s Basement 13.

 

It may be faded. It may be worn. It may slightly pink on the hem from when Kristy Federwitz and I decided to make a ‘million dollars’ by selling Kool-Aid and slightly brown from when she threw mud at me because we didn’t.

 

But it isn’t a rag.

 

It isn’t unrecognizable.

 

It still is the Fonz and it still is cool.

 

—PepperJack

 

 

 

Meta-Notoriety    (↵ returns to text)
  1. ‘And lo it was said unto the people:”It would be easier for Dick Dastardly to stop that pigeon than it would be for Scrappy Doo to not receive a punch in his annoying mug from everyone he met.”
  2.  LOST (SEASON 2:EPISODE 17) or the day I discovered my DVD player had a zoom function
  3. Cuse and Lindelof (def): FUCKERS
  4. OLIVER!’D (def): A derivation of the ‘Cousin Oliver’ trope.Much like that annoying little waif with the bowl and the bottomless stomach, a young child character is introduced as a distraction on an iron lunger TV show with a hand out wanting ‘more’ of your attention and laughter
  5. TAKE THAT ‘BEAUTIFUL MIND’ GUY WITH YOUR NOBEL PRIZE IN HOT BLONDE THEOREMS AND YOUR JENNIFER CONNELLY WIFE. THIS SEMI-ATTRACTIVE BRAIN IS GETTING THE NOBEL PRIZE IN NOTHINGNESS AND while I might not have Jennifer Connelly – ALL MY MAGAZINES ARE STILL INTACT!

Shark Weak: Da Fonz – Da Haiku

Garage Apartment?

Not cool! Aayyyy! Pinkie relax

They’re not MY parents!

 

 

Today at Hai Kulture, we address a hard issue and duck down some of the back alleys off Memory Lane to scratch at the sugary veneer of Candyland bliss. As a pop culture website, we are not afraid to poke at the bubblegum bubble upon which our world rests. We are not snarky elitists who just sit around drinking café purchased coffees with multiple syrups while voting on who is sporting the trendiest pair of faux glasses. [1] We are not afraid to get our hands dirty, or sticky as the case may be, and push against the boundaries of bubblegum-dom. We do so for you, we do so for the truth, and we do so with our fingertips, some convenient bits of stick, and the ear piece of some trendy faux glasses we just happened to find. [2] [3]/[4]

 

 A Hai Kulture Investigative Blog:

 

Shark Weak

The Effects of  Carcharodon carcharias Leapage on The Temperature Gradient of Non-Somatic Cool

Pop Culture Haiku Entertainment Humor Television Fonzie Jump the Shark Shark Weak

Shark Weak?

 

A standard pop culture trope is ‘Jump the Shark’: a term used to describe a moment when something that was once great has reached a point where it will now decline in quality and popularity. This phrase refers to a Season 5 episode of Happy Days where the Fonz literally jumped a shark and like a leather clad messiah took the weight of a TV nation upon his shoulders.

 

Pop Culture Haiku Television Entertainment Humor Fonzie Jump the Shark Shark Weak

Last Supper At Arnold’s

 

Above: The Fonz ironically does his version of DaVinci’s ‘Jesus Jazz Hands’ [5] the moment he trades cool for the cross of idiom.

 

The Fonz had become a gimmick. A sham. Retire the leathers and retool the show as ‘My Two Potsies’.

 

I’m here to do what Investigative Blogalists do best: point a virtual finger and scream ‘No! Wrong!!!!!!’

 

‘No! Wrong!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’

 

And you know you are – because jumping a shark is awesome!

I say – ‘JUMP THAT SHARK!!! JUMP IT NOW!!!’

Sadly, I never saw the original jump and to me that equates with missing the ‘Moon Landing’. [6] As age eight met with the early 80’s, I was a Syndication Baby. [7] / [8] My ‘Happy Days’ were five nights a week on the local UHF, brushing teeth to the closing theme, and fighting aliens with The Fonz in dreamland. For the record, I knew my Fonzie for I had ‘been groovin’ all week with him.

 

You never forget your first ‘Shark Jump’. That night. as he skied up that ramp for his umpteenth re-run, he did so only for me. That night, The Fonz took on the aliens single-handedly for I couldn’t sleep a wink. The Fonz had just defined ‘cool’.

 

‘Jumping the Shark’ doesn’t make Arthur Fonzerelli a joke. It defines him. He did exactly what he was supposed to do. The Fonz was supposed to punch jukeboxes and stop robots with a thumbs-down and a stern ‘woah’. He was supposed to stand up for the down trodden and steal Mrs. C’s cookies. This was the guy who solved mysteries and stopped the nefarious Candyman. He was a figure of myth, a god in syndication, and at a snap of his fingers it was ‘Aaaayyy! Let there be light!’ At his best, he was traveling through time in animated form [9] and at his besterest, the man jumped sharks.

 

He was the Fonz. He was cool. He jumped sharks.

 

I wore my sky blue t-shirt with the Fonzie iron-on [10]  to the playground with pride that weekend. (Actually, I wore it every weekend, but on this particular one I climbed to the top of the monkey bars for the first time.) A tribute paid in wide-eyed youthfulness to The Man Who Jumped Sharks.

 

And to this day, I don’t sport the simple yet elegant open leather jacket/single scarf look to stay warm in winter, but quite the opposite.

 

I do it to stay cool.

 

(To Be Continued)

 

—PepperJack

 

 

Meta-Notoriety    (↵ returns to text)
  1. The KuJo is DECIDEDLY split between those who drink café purchased coffees with multiple syrups and those who wear trendy faux glasses.
  2. No one wanted to get particularly sticky that day – we had places to be in the afternoon.
  3. We did collect a cash pool for someone to press their face AGAINST The Bubblegum Boundaries of Pop Culture like Number Six in a Rover. [4]

    No takers.

  4. Rover (def:) Number Two’s badass Security Weather Balloon – The Prisoner (’67-’68)
  5. DaVinci’s ‘The Last Supper’ – While the JC has tabled his Jesus Jazz Hands for the gang, he is often depicted in a low to mid jazz hands arc.
  6. How did a bunch of guys travel through a massive belt of radiation in Jiffy Pop space suits when computers were still the size of my apartment? Answer: They didn’t.
  7. Syndication Baby (def:) A child weaned on the milk of UHF and instilled with the belief that shows such as ‘Gilligan’s Island’, ‘Bewitched’, and ‘The Dick van Dyke Show’ are fresh and new – leads to ‘Love Boat Shock Syndrome’ [8]
  8. A post traumatic stress disorder common in Sydication Babies. The shock brought on by seeing a re-runned television star suddenly age 20 years from that afternoon’s vintage show to guesting on that week’s ‘Love Boat’. First Lido Deck Appearances can lead to confusion and hiding under afghans.
  9. The Fonz and the Happy Days Gang was an animated saturday morning program in which The Fonz travelled through time having adventures narrated by Wolfman Jack. Just thinking about it makes me shiver with joy.
  10. The Fonzie Iron On: Me. The Sky Blue Chest Palette: My Mother. ‘You look good in blue. It brings out you eyes’ A retro thank you to the boardwalk t-shirt kid who didn’t laugh at a beleagured 8 year old.

Ku-Less – Hai Kulture’d: You Don’t Know ‘PepperJack’!

Apparently, Seward received a fan letter [1] inquiring about his moniker ‘PepperJack’. He’s vacationing in less writery climes, but sent this to The Kujo in a desperate attempt to maintain his fan base of one. So without further ado:

 

You Don’t Know ‘PepperJack’!

PepperJack

 

My nom-de-nom-de-blog ‘PepperJack’ is a nod to my Punk-Gass’d [2] / [2.5] character in ‘Villians Victorianus’ and ‘from hell, With Love’. [3] The waist-coated dandified sociopath is a Mack-the-Knife-meets-Springheel-Jack-the-Ripper and the bane of waist-coated dandified crimefighters along the Thames. With his pepper spray cane and a mastery of knives, he slinks along the cobbles of Londontown.

Honestly – it just comes down to the fact that the idea of comic cover splash art of ol’ Sassy Jack jumping through a stained glass window with the tag ‘Beware The Slice of PepperJack’ makes me laugh hysterically [4]/[5]

 —PepperJack

 

 

Meta-Notoriety    (↵ returns to text)
  1. He’s lying —Hai 🙂
  2. Seward believes Steampunk is for sissies. He prefers low-tech alt history, which he believes is more gaslight friendly. He has dubbed this universe ‘Punk-Gass’d’ .

    It’s The Wild, Wild West meets Limehouse.

  3. Also saying things like “punk-gass’d” makes him laugh far too vigorously for the polite dinner party set
  4. These don’t exist – but thanks Circular 66!
  5. You also have a strange fixation with Dr. Jack Seward from Stoker’s Dracula. Remember we had that talk about how you can’t be a re-incarnated fictitious person— Hai [5]
  6. Yes, that is true – and I’m so not lying! [1] —Seward

War of the Wheaton – The Hai-Five

Beauty heartbroken

By smug kilt-wearing gamer

I ask: What the Fawkes?!!?!

 

 

Something Wheaton This Way Comes… Part the Fifth

Fawkes Pas or The Guilded Butterfly Incident

 

 

 

(If you have a copy of Grieg’s ‘In the Hall of the Mountain King’ start playing….

 

…now)

 

(And if not – Hai has kindly provided you with a copy 🙂 —Love, Hai :-*  ) [11.5]

 

In_the_Hall_of_the_Mountain_King

 

Time to turn down the lights…

 

Now, where were we?

 

Ah yes…

 

Pop Culture Haiku Entertainment Television Humor Wil Wheaton (Evil)

W For Whendetta

This guy.

 

The Wheaton.

 

W-Squared.

(or W2 with the new superscript button — Love, Hai)

 

Good ol’  ‘Wilbo’.

 

Time to step up to the plate for strike three.

 

(Are you up to the dramatic fasty bit at the end of the song? I’ll wait…)

(So…how was your day?)

(Ok. Ready? Let’s go!)

 

Ummm…

 

He’s kissed Felicia Day. I’m just going to throw that out there.

 

AND he made her fictitiously sad! [12]

 

Pop Culture Haiku Entertainment Television Humor Wil Wheaton (Evil) The Guild Felcia Day

The beautiful Felicia Day besmirched by sadness :(

(Not to weaken my argument, but it is impossible to find a distressed picture of Ms. Day. She is far too adorable. [13] After an extensive Internet search, the most I could come up with is ‘Codex nonplussed’. )

 

(This pops the seal on the can of worms of nonplussines. Do I mean ‘vexed’ or ‘unfazed’? Hey-I didn’t decide to go on the neologism rampage in the past decade! Let’s just say, at most, she was ‘plussed’. Arguably not a word, but if people are going to flip words derived from the Latin on their tail, I’m going to start making things up. Plussed: it’s both ‘vexy’ AND ‘fazy’. Pencil THAT  into the margin of your Funk and Wagnalls!)

 

(And don’t go saying she’s somewhat come-hither in the above photo. Squint a bit and she’s slightly ticked off. Work with me here! It’s late and I’ve spent two hours sifting through photos of ‘The Day of Sunshine’ [14] looking like a cute fluffy bunny who has momentarily misplaced a carrot. An extremely plussy, cute, fluffy bunny in the above case.)

 

She was sad. Season 3 & 4 of ‘The Guild’. I have it on DVD. Come over and I’ll show you or just check it out at:  http://www.watchtheguild.com/  – so I don’t have to tidy up.

 

I’ll give you one guess as to the cause. Here’s a hint-it rhymes with Wheat Thin.

 

Good. Glad we are on the same page again.

 

No one should make Felicia Day sad or even borderline plussed.

 

Wheaton Strike Three (Rounded up): YOU BASTARD!

 

Gotcha!

 

Let the ‘Blood Feud’ commence!

 

Sorry – Wilbo. It really is nothing personal. [15] / [16]

 

It’s just all the cool geeks are doing it. 🙂

 

FIN…?

 

—PepperJack

 

 

 

 

Meta-Notoriety    (↵ returns to text)
  1. This is a bit of a Spoiler Alert : Redundancy from the Hai Kulture 2.0 reboot, but I honestly was extremely pleased with myself when I figured out Audio Player and snuck it in that afternoon after Seward posted. It stays! —Hai
  2. I love Felicia Day. Just a little.
  3. She is adorable.
  4. With all the adorableness, it stands to reason she is cute also.
  5. In all honesty, I have nothing against Wil Wheaton. He’s an open gamer, ‘out-of-the-dungeon’ geek, seemed like a pretty cool (and non-litigious) guy when I met him, and even parodies himself ala ‘The Shat’.  [16] I have nothing but respect for that. He’s alive and well and living in exile: http://wilwheaton.typepad.com/ . Check it out. It’s true; he’s not a dick.

    (But I did change my spellchecker to recognize ‘Wilbo’ – so the whole blood feud thing – I really should go through with it to save face.)

  6. There are those who deem referring to William Shatner as ‘The Shat’ insulting. I disagree. He’s not ‘shat’; he’s ‘The Shat’. Difference = huge

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