Thursday, February 24, 2005
24 Hour Party People
Finally, the rain has let up. Still no sign of the sun as yet, though. Our final transformation into large-eyed, webbed-handed mole-people is days away, I just know it. I can already feel my skull expanding to accomodate my imminent ocular girth. I've begun eating grubs and weevils. It's important to be prepared.

The less said about that the better, I think. But keep an eye on your national news tickers. Or failing that, the Weekly World News.


I've always been susceptible to peer pressure. I've never actually made it to the inner circle of "cool kids", but it hasn't been for lack of trying. Smoking, drinking, Vanilla Ice, decoupage, I've done it all in an effort to ingratiate myself to the self-appointed age-group aristocracy. There was even that time when the brothers at Sigma Chi Epsilon required me to have sex with a homeless person (gender optional). I did it without question. And I wasn't even a pledge.

Grown as I am, there are fewer and fewer instances of peer pressure I have to contend with. Sure, every once in a while my kids will dare me to eat something really gross (a tip: refrigerated leftover pork-chops usually go bad at around 4 weeks), but it's just not the same.

A few weeks ago, though, my wife came home with a box set of the first season of 24. She suggested that we watch it. I was kind of indifferent. I simply don't have the time in my schedule to fit in every single show on television in a futile attempt to fill the empty void of my life.

Then she told me she had borrowed it from a friend at work who had insisted we watch it. I was in. I asked if there was anything else anyone at her work thought we should do. She said no, but I swallowed a live goldfish just in case.

Just as I feared, once I got past the tingle and glow of participating in activities suggested and sanctioned by complete and total strangers, I was drawn in by the show itself. For those who have never seen it, the format of the show (24 one-hour episodes occur in real time so a season lasts the course of a single day in the character's lives) in and of itself is completely hypnotic. Throw in some explosions and gunplay (and just a leeetle sex) and that was it for me. Because of the density of the story, it's the closest a TV show or movie has ever come to recreating the experience of reading a book. Except, you know, without all the words and junk.

We finished the first season and we're more than half way through the second now. It's a sickness in our house.

Kiefer Sutherland plays Jack, government agent and Angel of Death. Jack is always just about to die or killing someone. A bubble of destruction and exploding viscera surrounds our hero, expanding and contracting on a minute by minute basis. It's all terribly engrossing. Probably too much so.

I tend to get a little... animated. This is a little embarrassing, but I can't help but shout outloud as the story moves along, as Kiefer bounces from one harrowing crisis to the next. Also, I've taken (inexplicably) to referring to his bad-ass character as "Jacky-Jack". So a viewing session is punctuated with little gems like:

"Ooh, look out, Jacky-Jack!"

"He shoulda known better than to cross Jacky-Jack!"

"Damn, it's another bad day for Jacky-Jack!"

"Holy fuck! Oh holy fucking shit, Jacky-Jack! Oh my... holy fucking shit! Did he just... holy fuck!"

Mrs. Pops makes fun of me. I deserve it.

Before we get to the end of the post and the Narcissus Scale, I think I should take time out to mention a certain pop-culture hero for which no scale exists to measure adequately her own awesome narcissism. Of course I'm talking about Paris Hilton.

Paris is something of a running joke here in the Bucket. To be fair, part of the stories about her this week aren't really her fault. Someone hacked into her wireless T-Mobile Sidekick and stole her pictures, her schedule, her electric rolodex, everything, and posted them on the web. This is as much about technology outpacing security and the vulnerability of wireless technology in general.

But that's boring. Check out the pictures (WARNING: Boobies included).

Paris is in every single shot. If I owned a camera-phone (which I don't), I can't think how I'd end up in any of the pictures, let alone topless or striking super-fab glam poses. You have to applaud that level of self-obsession. As preoccupied with myself as I am, I can see I have a long way to go.

I know, she never meant these for public consumption and we'd all be embarrassed if things we thought were private ever got published on the internet. I know I wouldn't want people to see the pictures of me shirtless and making out with that dude I met at the gym sauna.

I guess it could have been worse for Paris, though. At least in still pictures, no one can hear you speak.

This post on the Paris Hilton Memorial Narcissus Scale: 0.01 (I am nothing in comparison)


Ah, I see you've found the lure of "24". I'm about as anti-television as a guy gets, but addicted co-workers pushed their drug on me... and I got hooked. It's crack for your eyes, that show.
Since no one has yet forcibly forced "24" DVDs into my unwitting grasp, I am still in the dark abou this show. I suppose it's inevitable that one of these days a dang 24 Missionary will appear at our doorstep and preach to us about the wonder of that show, but until then, I'll continue to live in ignorance.
Man, Paris sure doesn't have nice breasts. Why all the fuss over the porn(s) she made?

If I had a camera phone I'd so make sure that I had half-naked boob shots of myself on it. Then I could be a star.....
I also have a good friend who insisted that I get Season One of this show. In fact, he practically SCREAMED at me to get it. I haven't gotten it. I'm still a little freaked out by him screaming at me.
Brent: See, it's not just me who's a spineless social parasite. Welcome to the club.

Steph: Don't let them in. Especially if they have a complete season on DVD. One episode flows directly into the next and no commercials... your neighbors and co-workers will think you're dead. Consider your loved ones, Steph. Just say no.

Jess: What's wrong with 'em? They're vaguely symmetrical and in generally the right place. I'm no expert, but they're convincing boob-like if you ask me.

And I hate to burst your bubble, but you wouldn't exactly be the first woman who tried to become famous by exposing herself on the internet. Not saying it wouldn't work, though.
SJ: You snuck in there while I was typing.

I'm starting to see a pattern. This is obviously some kind of highly organized cult. We'll have to ask MPH. I'm pretty sure he's One Of Them.
Can we really do that and not going to jail for self exposure?
It will be my duty tonight to take lots of pics of my boobs for my BF's camera phone..bwaahah.
I made a comment on SJ's site about how it was your turn to post pics of half naked freaks of nature. However, I see that you have already done that, and more.
So, I don't find Paris Hilton attractive in the um, what do you call it, um, face.

But man, in the boobal area, she's got it going on.
Just because they're in the right spot and look like boobs does not make them great boobs. If it does, a guy I went to high school would has the best breasts ever. Man boobies....
Hey, just out of curiosity, did you actually see "24 Hour Party People?" A must-see for any fans of New Order, Joy Division, and the whole 80s early 90s Manchester scene.
Yoli: The internet is one place where all boobs are safe. Please feel free to share.

HFB: Hmm, we're either thinking the same thing at the same time or I'm one step ahead of you. Yeah, I think I'll go with the latter.

PusBoy: You read my mind, brother-man.

Jess: I think we're using different relative scales of acceptability. For straight males, any boobs that are visible are spectacular. I mean that as literally as possible.

Man boobies is very funny.

Steph: No, I don't get to see actual movies. Not until my youngest turns 17 and we can all go to R rated movies together. It just had a "24" in it and the party people, well there was the Paris Hilton angle... my references are shallow and meaningless. They closely reflect my overall personality, which is handy.
Sorry, I would have posted sooner but I in front of the TV filling some more voidage. Which cult are you talking about specifically? I belong to like 14 or so. Regardless, more likely than not I am one of them.
I forgot the straight male rule...if they can be seen and groped, they are good.
Haha Pusboy, "boobal"--that's my new favorite word! I must agree that her boobs look a lot better than her face, and speaking of her face, she has the exact same expression in every single photo (except for the one where that other girl's shoving her tongue down her throat). I find that inordinately disturbing.
MPH: I suspect TV is where you first learned about cutting.

Jess: You're getting warmer. They don't necessarily need to be groped. That's just gravy.

Steph: Someone told her at some time that you can NEVER TAKE A PICTURE unless you try to touch your chin to your collarbone and affect an utterly blank expression somewhere between mysterious and gastrointestinal distress.
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