Slope of Hope Blog Posts

Slope initially began as a blog, so this is where most of the website’s content resides. Here we have tens of thousands of posts dating back over a decade. These are listed in reverse chronological order. Click on any category icon below to see posts tagged with that particular subject, or click on a word in the category cloud on the right side of the screen for more specific choices.

Words of Wisdom from Saint George

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For newer Slopers, you should know that George Carlin is the patron saint of this blog. I was reading an interview with him last night – the last one he ever gave, I believed – and his words resonated with me (as they often do)……..

I’ve addressed this before when the question is asked more bluntly: Are you an angry man? What are you angry about; what are you so angry about? I don’t live an angry life, not an angry person. I rarely lose my temper, can’t remember the last time, never had a physical fight in my life, don’t carry grudges, don’t carry resentment either. Very very lucky in those respects. But I feel a very strong alienation and dissatisfaction from my groups. 

Abraham Maslow said the fully realized man does not identify with the local group. When I saw that, it rang another bell. I thought: bingo! I do not identify with the local group, I do not feel a part of it. I really have never felt like a participant, I’ve always felt like an observer. Always. I only identified this in retrospect, way after the fact, that I have been on the outside, and I don’t like being on the inside. I don’t like being in their world. I’ve never felt comfortable there; I don’t belong to that. So, when he says the “local group,” I take that as meaning a lot of things: the local social clubs or fraternal orders, or lodges or associations or clubs of any kind, things where you sacrifice your individual identity for the sake of a group, for the sake of the group mind. I’ve always felt different and outside. Now, I also extended that, once again in retrospect, as I examined my feelings.

I don’t really identify with America, I don’t really feel like an American or part of the American experience, and I don’t really feel like a member of the human race, to tell you the truth. I know I am, but I really don’t. All the definitions are there, but I don’t really feel a part of it. I think I have found a detached point of view, an ideal emotional detachment from the American experience and culture and the human experience and culture and human choices. 

But even if I am a cynic, they say if you scratch a cynic, you find a disappointed idealist—that’s what’s underneath. That’s the little flicker of flame, has a little life in it, the idealist: I would love to be able to entertain that side of me, but it doesn’t work like that. I don’t see what’s in it yet, I mean I just like it out here. 

I’m not an angry person, just very disappointed and contemptuous of my fellow humans’ choices—and on stage those feelings sometimes are exaggerated for a theatric stage—you’re on a stage you have an audience of 2500 or 3000 people: you need to project the feelings, the emotions it’s heightened, and people mistake it for a personal anger but it’s more dissatisfaction, disappointment and contempt for these things we’ve settled for.

Christmas Special Rerun

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Well, since I spent part of this morning crying through Frosty the Snowman with my little girl – a yearly tradition for me – I'd like to offer this repost from last year on an important topic: the Rankin/Bass Christmas Specials……..

As a Gen-X child, I offer you The Truth:

  • + The original R-B special, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, is the best. And I think it's time, as a nation, we recognize the fact that a large part of this country's current sex drive had its beginnings with Clarice the Reindeer. (I'm cuuuuuuuuute! – – followed by a none-too-subtle thrust into the open air, which is apparently quite surprising for such a young buck. Not a stitch of clothing on either, by the way.)
  • Yukon Cornelius rules.
  • Hermey has always had a special place in my heart. I guess the whole misfit thing does it – – if he were real, he'd probably hang out on Slope.
  • + You just know that the blonde-topped Fireball is going to wind up dating other bucks once he comes of age. It's obvious. My gaydar is effective even on trans-species analysis.
  • + As a father, Donner sucks. He castigates his newborn son for a minor genetic deformity….and morbidly-obese Santa doesn't help a bit either after he catches the family trying their best to mask the red nose ("Donner! You should be ashamed of yourself!") What a couple of dickweeds.
  • +The Little Drummer Boy should be banned as a song. End of story.
  • + To this day, Frosty still brings tears to my eyes. Which part? Well, obviously, the part where Karen is crying. What, you don't cry then? You probably don't like puppies, either.
  • + As R-B started rolling in dough and the 70s emerged, the quality of the specials started dropping precipitously. Witness Santa Claus is Comin' to Town. Yes, the Fred Astaire character at least provided inspiration for Mr. Hanky's special many years later, but having Santa represented by some red-headed punk still gets on my nerves.
  • + One exception to the curse of the 70s is The Year Without a Santa Claus, and that's only because of Heat Miser and Cold Miser. Which one do I prefer? Oh, come on, do you really have to ask?
  • + The other specials – – dreck such as Nestor – – don't merit any analysis. This is really all ye need know.

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Psychotic Cereal Killer

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My family shops at Whole Foods, and has done so for years, so I've pretty much lost touch with mass-market food products, particularly cereals.

On rare occasions, I need to pop into a Safeway, and I've noticed something pretty shocking – – – the sea-change that has taken place in children's cereal art.

When I was a young bear, the images on cereal boxes were colorful, but still fairly simple and friendly. Here's my old friend Lucky Charms:

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Compare this with the psychotic, meth-crazed lunatic currently appearing on the same product:

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The above is not a bizarre exception. Cast your eyes on the sweet, simple white rabbit on Tim's Trix from many years ago (and the charmingly naive homage to the U.S. Government):

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Is the rabbit still sweet and simple? Think again:

1122-trixnew

I guess the old saying about one's youth is correct: you can never go back.

Pearls Before Swine

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Below is a video from Regis and Kelly featuring – of all things – a performance by my beloved Devo. This would be like Beck showing up on the Lawrence Welk show.

Regis is there, joined not by Kelly but by someone named Joy, who I guess is someone's mom in the audience. At least that's what I'm assuming, judging by her behavior.

At 3:18, once "Fresh" is done, the stupid questions begin:

"Where did the name come from? Devo?"
"Remember the old energy hats?"
"Remember that big hit? Whip It?"

It reminds me of the Chris Farley "bad interviewer" routine when he would ask all kinds of simple-minded questions of his guests (to Paul McCartney: "Remember when you were with the Beatles?") Sheesh!