What They Blogged For.

Love. Hate.

Before we say our final goodbye, I just wanted to leave you with a random sampling of posts from some of my favorite people on this blog:

Benjie’s Skyrim addiction.

Occam Razor on “The Seven Robots You Meet In Heaven.”

Benjie and I watching New Moon and The Sisterhood Of The Traveling Pants 2.

A Movie Script Ending.”

The MPDG vs. the Amazing Girl, Heroes vs. BSG, and Kirsten Dunst vs. Kate Hudson.

Peanut St. Cosmo saying goodbye to her Blackberry.

(And really, just anything by Peanut, cause there’s too many to list.)

Fuck Yeah Sayid!

Anytime we talked about Lost.

High Fidelity vs. 500 Days Of Summer.

Hey, Shitface, Get Off My Lawn!”

Benjie and August Bravo on internet hype, and meeting expectations, and also Super 8.

Independence Day 2?

The end of the Counterforce podcast, and the birth of Time Travel Murder Mystery.

J Fran Fran.

Jonathan Franzen and his “Strong Motion.”

Benjie on his favorite sequel ever.

Occam Razor on a post peak oil world, and big booty bitches.

Benjie on how to properly spend New Year’s Eve.

While my torrent gently downloads” by Benjamin Light.

This is by no means a complete list, not at all. It is, in fact, an extremely rushed list. And may actually be a really terrible retrospective, at least in terms of showing what we did best, when we did our best, but oh well.

It’s just a few of my favorites. I would invite you to explore further, if you get the chance.

Between the covers.

So about two months ago, Marco had this great idea to do some posts on Counterforce about summer. Summer traveling, summer adventures, flings, weird things to be done to the world and to yourself during the course of summer, and of course, summer reading.

Not a hard subject for us to tackle. Quite the opposite, in fact. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re all voracious readers and also, frankly, scary brilliant. But we got a little wrapped up in the business of having a summer, which we’ll leave undefinable for now, and before you knew it, the grass started getting a little less greener, the wind started getting colder, those chirping annoying kids finally went back to school, and the season of summer flings quietly faded away.

So let’s talk about what’s on our nightstands as we head into the autumn months, okay?

Occam Razor:
Traffic: Why We Drive the Way We Do (And What that Says About Us) by Tom Vanderbilt.

Because you assholes don’t know how to behave on the road and your idiotic fucking tendencies just lead to me being in traffic. I read most of this on my lunch breaks while eating sushi. Now, I’m not saying you have to read this at lunch while eating sushi, but you probably should to get the same exact experience I did. California Rolls will not be accepted. Unless its the ones with the fried shrimp in the middle, I don’t know why but I can’t get enough of those. Damn, I could go for some right now. If I only had a book about the traffic culture of Mumbai to read.
Lollipop Gomez:

Youth In Revolt is one of my favorite books. I read it 10 years ago and then I re-read it when I was recovering from surgery in 2005. It is a treasure. I’m very worried of what they will do to it.

If there aren’t any donuts in the first 20 minutes of this movie, which is a major detail in that they go get donuts all the time in the book, I will be very upset. I remember sending my ex up the hill to get me Maple bars because they kept mentioning them. So, if there’s no donuts in the movie then I will torch Michael Cera’s house. And I don’t know how I feel about this fake Amanda Seyfried as Sheeni. I don’t know if I imagined her being so faux-sexy. Ugh, Hollywood.

Marco Sparks: Cera’s starring in the upcoming movie version, right? When reading the book originally, can you say that you ever would’ve thought to see Michael Cera playing the lead? I totally want some donuts now, by the way.

LG: No, Michael Cera is not Nick. But he’s the awkward man of the moment and I think he’s producer, so we can thank his dollars.

Marco: Hello, Nick and Norah!

Conrad Noir:
Why this book? Because why the fuck not, motherfucker? This book is like experiencing what it’s like when a mentally ill person has an orgasm during a car wreck. It’s fucking wonderful. Here’s an excerpt:
“Soon after this episode there was a birthday party for me. Prince came, he was sitting at a table with some people not drinking. I walked up to him, grabbed him by the back of the hair and poured cognac down his throat. He spit it out like a little bitch and I laughed and walked away. I loved fucking with him like that.”
Occam Razor:
Lush Life: A Novel by Richard Price.

Because of several reasons. A) Richard Price wrote some of the best episodes of The Wire. 2) For the first 350 pages or so it’s an entertaining read. Nevermind the end, though. and C) For all intents and purposes the subtitle A Novel is actually a part of the title of the book. It’s not Lush Life, a novel by Richard Price, it’s Lush Life: A Novel! Why can’t more titles be that informative like this, imagine Bruno: A Terrible Film Where This Guy Sexually Harasses Rednecks Until They Finally Snap.
Conrad:
This one isn’t as easy to enthusiastically recommend. Honestly, I haven’t read it yet, but I certainly intend to. Especially now that I know they’re making it into a movie.
Marco:
I’m honestly too indecisive to pick just one, or just a few books here. I apologize. So, speaking of the post Lollipop and I did yesterday, I’m going to suggest…
What a fun and fascinating read this book was (for me, anyway). On one hand, you could take it as some very factually based interesting guesses into what tomorrow holds for us, but in a lot of ways, due to it’s style and subject matter, I think you could almost take it in as a very experimental novel. Especially if the futurist angle just isn’t for you. In fact, be warned, because I think I may have more to say about this one in a few days…
Occam Razor:
Why Your World is Going to Get a Whole Lot Smaller: Oil and the End of Globalization by Jeff Rubin

Because I’m too fucking lazy to properly prepare you for Peak Oil.
And you’ll have plenty of time to read after the end of the world

One Year Later.

So, on this day in history, about 62 years ago, the US Air Force shot down and captured what was either a weather balloon or some kind of “flying disk” in Roswell, New Mexico.

Perhaps related or not so related, just over a year ago, Benjamin Light mentioned something outlandishly foolish to me. I really thought he was off his meds, no joke. But he had that kind of dangerous, scary clarity that only a nutcase can have. The kind where you don’t turn your back on them, are afraid to look them in the eye, and you pretty much agree with whatever the fuck they say just so you can get out of the room with her genitalia intact. He said to me, “I think I want to start a blog.”

And I – always the level headed one – said, “What? You’re fucking crazy.”

And he said, “No, no, trust me, it’ll be good.”

And then crazy psychotic history was made…

So here we are.

What a long strange trip it’s been, right?

We’ve talked about post peak oil, we’ve talked about Lost (like, a lot), we’ve talked about politics and the news in general. And general weirdness. We’ve talked about being cool with yourself, not so cool with yourself, and how to get laid either way. We’ve barely give you a chance to get a word in edgewise, because we’ve been talking about cats (and more cats), and things that are in bad taste, and the moon.We’ve talked about film, music, and literature at times, and everything in between. Including the stuff that’s just bullshit. We’ve talked about ourselves just a little, both with words and in video, and we’ve even talked to people we love (other than ourselves)(though this site is filthy with onanism, to be sure). Hell, we’ve even talked about talking (but mostly about ourselves, again with the onanism)!

Look at all that talk talk talking. It’s like we’ve found the nexus of the fucking universe and we’re mapping it for you.

Michael Jackson is dead and we’re still alive.

And not to brag too much, but we’ve seen a few faces and we’ve rocked them all!

Sometimes we’ve felt like we’re a bit alien ourselves, or maybe we’re transmitting to you from outer space, but we do it anyway. We do it because, no joke, there is something very seriously wrong with us and we love it.

This Recording already used the blog as a spaceship metaphor that I would love to use here, but rather than appropriate it here, I’m just gonna outright steal it. But rather than a proper spaceship, Counterforce is the fucked up. The weird one. The one that the prisoners took over and started running their own way. Like Spock and Nero and all of those pointy eared fuckers, we’re bursting through your black holes and disrupting your time stream and hopefully reality as well. Hello there, we’re from the future. We’re in your here and now and you’re our living sexy museum and we’re yours. Don’t take us to your leader, because we only care about you.

Not that we haven’t made some mistakes. Sometimes we’ve been really on our games and sometimes… well, really off them. That’s usually on me though, I’m not gonna lie. As blogonauts, we’re still learning out here in space. There’s a few less rings on Saturn because, well, we crashed into them just a little. Same with the Big Dipper. We did something inappropriate with a black hole for the same people climb Everest. Also, we found life on Mars and then accidentally blogged it out of existence. And Halley’s comet won’t make it’s way back to this solar system for a few more years than it was already scheduled to because we saw it, liked it’s style, were in kind of a naughty bad place, and now, long story short, it won’t look our way, won’t return our phone calls, and wants to take a break with the Earth. Our bad, kids.

That said, we’re still here, and even though we’re sometimes the blogging equivalent of the chaos cloud that will someday end all life on Earth, we’re also hopefully going to only get better. Help us? Tell us what you think. Tell us how much we rock, or how hard we suck. Tell us what you want to see and maybe, just maybe, we won’t poke your eyes out.

We’ve been proud so far that with us, you’ve gotten basically 6+ different blogs, some that overlap, and some that are drastically different. We’ve enjoyed it and hope you have too. My co-bloggers all wanted to be more involved in our very special 1 year birthday here, but most were busy with jobs and living sexy lives of danger and adventure. Benjamin Light has been off the grid and we eagerly await his return, and his shocked disgust at how I’ve trainwrecked this beast in his absence. And Occam’s probably not speaking to me since he realized that I stole some CDs from his house during a Lost party. And Lollipop especially wanted to remind you of how much greater the blog has gotten since she first commented and then joined us (and she’s more right than she’s wrong about that) and August Bravo wants to let you know that he’s giving up Heroes due to relentless scrutiny. Bravo, August Bravo.

This is where I wrap it up. If it was just me closing this up, I’d say something like: We’ll see you out there, space cowboys and cowgirls. But instead I found someone to put it even better than I can…

And now a special word from the desk of Peanut St. Cosmo:

hello readers! funny to think we’ve been in existence on this “series of tubes” for a year now! it feels kinda like the first rocky year of a marriage and if you make it, you figure you’ve got about six more years before the itch comes on and you’re both fucking the pool boy/baby sitter and filing for divorce. you get the idea, i give us six more years until you call it quits on us, but you’ll never find a better lay! i promise you, i’m the best you ever had!!!

but in all seriousness, i do appreciate the two of you who like my infrequent posts. thanks for stopping by :)

File This One Under “Winning Isn’t Everything”

 

Gold Medal Winner. Seriously.

Gold Medal Winner. Seriously.

India won their first individual Olympic Gold Medal ever the other day. Dude by the name of Abhinav Bindra. You know what it was for? Air-rifling. What a disgrace. Just look at the picture of that guy. My sympathies go out to you, peoples of the Indian nation. If I were from the sub-continent, I would demand that this dork decline the gold metal. This is like a home run ball that you throw back. Poor Indians, now their only claim to world sports fame is a fucking gold medal in fucking BB-guns. This dude looks like he practiced for the event by going paint-balling and having LAN parties with his buds from the dorm. That, sir, is not an Olympic athlete. Right now, Curling medalists are snickering “pussy” under their breath and feeling better about themselves. BB-gun shooting is an Olympic event? Fuck. How the hell has a big, modern country like India not won a real gold medal yet? Shouldn’t the other big nations bag it in like shot-putting or something just as a matter of courteous diplomacy? France has a shitload of gold medals, wtf? (editor’s note: with the Democratic Party sweep of Congress in 2006, it was once again deemed okay to make fun of the French.)

If any of our fellow world citizens of Indian descent are reading this, please offer up your own takes. Would you rather India won the gold in a cheesy event for the symbolism of it, or would you prefer the slate was clean until a more impressive victory came along?

On the other hand, I would totally watch an international competition of Nerd Games featuring paintball, Halo 3, Mario Kart, Mini-Golf, Street Fighter II, water-balloon launching and the like. That would kick ass. But only if the nerds had to play in every event. You wouldn’t want some ringer who was only there for the air hockey to skew the results.

I can has gold medal?

I can has gold medal?

In other news, Counterforce apologizes for the lack of an update from Occam Razor this week on Living in a Post Peak Oil World. Mr. Razor shall return next week. Suffice it to say, the ability to shoot an air-rifle with extreme accuracy is not one of the life skills needed to survive in a Post Peak Oil World. Especially if you’re shooting plastic pellets. Which, as we all know, are made of oil. Mr. Bindra had better hope he can parlay that shiny medallion into some big-bootied ‘tang if he wishes to make it in the Post Peak Oil crisis.

What You Can Do in Preparing for a Post Peak Oil World: Endtroducing…

We here at Counterforce recognize there are many reasons to fear tomorrow.  Terrorists living next door, government agents listening to your phone calls because there are terrorists living next door, climate change, Bravo’s never ending parade of reality competition TV shows based on the pastimes of homosexuals and the hags who love’em, a possible McCain presidency, a possible offspring of Madonna and A-Rod, a possible Bravo reality TV show based on Madonna and A-Rod raising said offspring (sure to feature lots of underwear swapping).  We also realize that some of you might need your worst fears assuaged and advice on how to cope with these coming atrocities.  Well, we’re sorry but you’re a big boy/girl and you’re just gonna have to learn how to deal with it.

 

 

We’re sorry, that was mean.  We’ll tell you what, to make it up to you we have invited world renowned Zoologist, European playboy and World Champion Gitin’r Doner, Occam Razor, to write a weekly column on what you can do in preparing for a Post Peak Oil World, titled What You Can Do in Preparing for a Post Peak Oil World.  Occam suffers fools lightly and will not be taking any questions at the end of each column.

 

 

It's obvious, really

It's obvious, really

“What is Peak Oil?” is what you’re probably asking yourself.  No doubt breathing heavily from the mouth even though you’ve been sitting down for the past 3 hours, furrowing your brow in a vain attempt to understand what the adults are talking about.  Well thank god for the web 2.0 because I don’t want to have to waste my time to explain it all to you, so go look it up on wikipedia already.  I’ll sit here waiting, identifying a new species of Marmota.

Peak oil is the point in time when the maximum rate of global petroleum extraction is reached, after which the rate of production enters terminal decline.”

 

It’s kind of a “oh, fuck, I never thought of that!” concept.  But my friends, fossil fuels are not limitless.  Some kind of prehistoric algae pooled up a couple million years (and since it was prehistoric algae it was probably like 6 feet tall or something) got trapped by tectonic plate movement and millions of years later Jed Clampett went ahuntin’ and the Industrial Revolution was born.

 

A generic picture of an oil rig

A generic picture of an oil rig

Not only are fossil fuels a finite resource, but it’s very clear that at some point it will cost more energy to grab at the last few drops than will be gained from those last few drops.  And so Peak Oil represents that point when oil is no longer cheap and marks the beginning of what everyone’s favorite asshole James Howard Kunstler calls The Long Emergency, a time without all of the modern conveniences afforded by cheap oil. 

 

“Well, when will Peak Oil happen?” you blather about and I respond, “You’re awful mouthy!”  But after I collect myself and refocus my chi, I have to tell you the world’s most expert geologists predict that Peak Oil will happen in December 2005.

 

Oh shit, it’s already the Summer of 2008, huh?  Well I guess the coming winter’s $6 a gallon gas prices shouldn’t be too shocking.

 

Think of some aspect of your life that doesn’t rely on fossil fuels.  I’m going to stop you right there and say, nothing.  Nothing in your life is free from fossil fuels.  Maybe sleeping, but you seem like the kind of person who needs lot’s of drugs to doze off, and those are manufactured in a factory and then shipped by a truck to a store, so yeah.  Shit, even taking a shit requires fossil fuel.  One of the first maxims of urban development was “shit rolls downhill,” which is a way of remembering how to properly plumb a residence to ensure proper sanitation in crowded spaces.  That’s why no one fears cholera, anymore.  Yet now developers are so concerned with maximizing every square inch of land they’ll place residences at the bottom of hills even though the main sewer line is at the top and “fix” that problem with gas powered pumps.

 

This explains everything

This explains everything

Kunstler kalls it the Long Emergency because the loss of knowledge over the past 60 or 70 years will lead to some serious problems when there’s no gas to shoot our poop uphill.  And that’s where this column steps in, it’s about what you can do in preparing for a post peak oil world, that’s why it’s titled What You Can Do in Preparing for a Post Peak Oil World.  Starting next week we will be getting our hands dirty making sure we know where to aim our poop and how to live without convenient access to blenders.

 

Next Week:  I Like Big Butts and I Cannot Lie:  Knock Kneed Bimbos Have No Place In a Post Peak Oil World.