Saturday, June 26, 2010

Tolkien the douche or TolKKKien

The Lord of the Rings is often touted as an adventure that celebrates friendship, faith, the triumph of good versus evil, and racial tolerance and brotherhood. This, of course, is complete and utter bullshit. The Ghost will be doing a multi-part Lord of the Rings podcast in the future, nevertheless he finds it necessary to pontificate on LOTR douchebaggery.

I'm going to avoid talking about the annoying nature of that whiney little prick Frodo, who we are supposed to want to complete his task and not be disemboweled and eaten by Gollum the first fucking time he shows up. Rather, I'd like to dispel the myth of racial tolerance in this turd.

The plot of The Lord of the Rings boils down to this: Nine representatives of white tribes band together to destroy the tool that gives the dark people power. Racial tolerance and brotherhood? If you believe that, you can convince yourself that a hot pile of horseshit is a lovely plate of goulash.

This idea that dwarves and elves and hobbits and men getting along after generations of conflict as proof for a plea for racial harmony is heaping, steaming pile of poodle poop. What this does show, is that white tribes can move beyond their previous prejudices against height and hair length, and band together when the black people are gaining the upper hand. This is akin to Italians, Irish, and Germans banding together to preserve Jim Crow.

Consider the fact that the main indicator of a race's worth is their relative "fair"ness. The elves are the fairest of them all, and thus the most noble, whereas the orcs are corrupted elves and are thus the least fair--when they were corrupted, they turned black and obviously evil and in need of extermination. So fair=good, not fair=get a team of fair people to overcome their petty differences to help destroy the not fair. Shouldn't be too hard.

All this racist bullshit is punctuated with overblown middle-brow pontificating by Gandalf "the Grey" who improves himself by becoming Gandalf "the White", and ridiculous little songs which many Tolkienophiles argue is "good poetry."

So what do we really learn from reading Tolkien's "masterpiece"? We learn that white people of all stripes can overlook height, hair, and hygiene to band together in order to defeat dark-skinned people who have gotten a little too much power for their liking.

Monday, June 7, 2010

I have outgrown Agatha Christie

It is a sad day for the Ghost, folks. I have officially outgrown Agatha Christie. Yes. I am a sucker for a good murder mystery. I digs me a good whodunit like any other red-blooded Ghost of a mustachioed prognosticator, and I have always been drawn to Christie's brand of twisty detectivery and upperclassmenship--especially that little Hercule Poirot and his grey cells nonsense.

But here's the problem: I always know who the killer is right when I first meet him...or her(?). Right a-fucking-way. It's like whenever you watch any police procedural on tv: if there is a famous actor who normally not on the show, there's your killer, junior.

I remember when I first read And Then There Were None, when I was just a young Ghost of Nostradamustache of a few hundred years, and I got to the epilogue and thought "good fucking god! how did that shit happen?" I couldn't wait to pick up another one and get drawn back in to the sterile, saran wrapped, love of the English gentility and their tricky ways of killing each other and assuming they are so very clever that little Belgians or sweet old ladies could never uncover their nefarious crimes. But not only are they discovered, but they are kind enough to sit in the parlor and allow the detective to recap all the shit they did, and explain to them how they fucked up. And I was always in awe of how it all shook out.

I was in awe. Now I just want those douchy little shits to get on with it. Recap it if you feel so compelled, call the lame-brained cops, and quit your fiddle fucking around; I have shit to do.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Moby Dick

Welcome, friends and neighbors, you've successfully arrived at Great Books with the Ghost of Nostradamustache! Join master story-teller The Ghost as he guides you through some of the greatest works in literary history.

For his first installment the Ghost brings you Herman Melville's Moby Dick, a tale of adventure and derring-do, when men were men, women were unseen, and hotels don't mind a good double-booking! Follow Ishmael as he navigates the rough waters of life, love, and the perilous North Atlantic.

This story has something for everyone: adventure, shakers, whales, cataloguing, and talking. It's a roller coaster ride fill with both ups and downs, trials and tribulations. It's a rocket of adventure surging toward the sun and it's a fat-ass man in a lazy boy with chocolate stains on his tshirt. You'll cry til you laugh and you'll puke til you vomit!!

So join The Ghost as he takes you on the ride of you life!!!! Here it is...Moby Dick...