Producing the Kinky Wizards


Published: Sunday, January 2, 2005 at 6:01 a.m.
Last Modified: Monday, January 3, 2005 at 12:44 a.m.

Boom. Pop. Crack. Hiss. Ooh, shiny things entertain me so.

The city was lit up with sonic bombardment of whatever happened to come in the big $20 digit-exploding assortments that were left in picked-clean stores of post-christmasdom depression.

Americans just have a thing with blowing stuff up. Permanent train-wreck syndrome. How delightful destruction is, the apple of Uncle Sam's eye.

But this isn't about the slew of morons eliminating any risk of carpal tunnel via direct exposure to the outside world of any and all internal bodily structures. This is about yet another retrospective.

Sure, this is technically late. What do you care anyway? Every other piece of drivel on the subject was released stating the most important and impactual events of the year, but too early to include the extra tens of thousands of deceased in the west, if any part of that horrid event was mentioned at all. You'll forgive me if I don't take too much stock in something that ignores that.

This is also not a list of meaningless items solely composed to get to what some hackneyed author considers the number one "Best (blank)" of 2004. This is the great and many fabled.

Kyle's Top 5 moments in existence for 2004:

  • Best (worst) crime perpetrated by a celebrity:

    Jackson takes the cake again. Oh yeah, I think he molested another kid too. But never mind that. Jacko wins for a much more hideous and moronic event. This was truly the year that he finally alienated everyone that might have the gall to put his albums on the counter at the record store. The loon has spent the last 20 years digging deeper and deeper into a fantasy-world hole where only he and his thoughts and maybe a few young boys exist. Bottom has been discovered. It's over. No one cares anymore. Just stay in Neverland until you kick the bucket from surgical complications as we can all see coming. Please, all of you, don't throw him a shovel. Let's let it go and remember him as a young black man with a nose and dignity.

  • Best reinvention of the apparent self:

    My favorite politician is the victor. No, not Bush. That's nemesis material. Rummy gets this award. I always saw him as a cold, heartless Nazi. And the beauty of it all is that he's finally ready to take on that role. From tenacious clinging to tenets that the rest of his party has already admitted were total bull honkey to cut-and-pasting his signature on letters to weeping mothers, it's clear that an arm band, shaven head and insatiable longing for blathered nazi-punk lyrics is not far behind. Oddly, this is why Rumsfeld is my only hero in politics anymore. He's a raging ass, and he's comfortable with that. Kudos, buddy.

  • Boldest move:

    Will we ever be rid of the Jackson family? Probably not. That much money, and someone will probably get their head frozen for another 50 years of fun. Janet's little titty-popper holds a special place in my heart. Her career was in the toilet, brother heading to a very gruesome fate in prison, and she's stuck performing with a Backstreet Boy. Things don't go much worse than that for a woman who's poster form occupied so many millions of male walls just 15 years ago. Then it happened, on a Sunday afternoon. Oh man, it was gross. I have testosterone in my blood like every other man, but a breast of that age is only meant to churn it up and send it tail-tucked to the races.

  • Most terrible thing to do to a child:

    I'm not much for the jumping box or television or whatever it is you kids call it. But I'm told that this "Newlyweds" show has just announced that they will produce offspring. Not telling if this will be live - I hope not. Some kids have been tortured and killed this past year. Some were brutally murdered by their parents. For Nick and Jessica's rugrat, death would be a nice option. We've seen what growing up in the Hollywood spotlight has done to children. Case in point: can you honestly say you have the slightest clue what happened to Webster or Macaulay Culkin without searching through old VH-1 recordings? It's not as if the kid will receive positive genetic coding. It may be a beautiful baby that cries only in operettas, but will he be able to pass 4th grade? Then again, putting their private lives on television was such a brilliant and pleasing move, what's the harm in ruining another life for the sake of our (lack of ) entertainment.

  • Most improved:

    Anyone who still watches Mtv for music news or can't get enough of most Hollywood films, leave the room. You are not included. In fact, you're fired, and I'll quit for you too, so don't even try it. The rest of you win. Congrats. More of you have bitched about the substandard slop we see on television and hear on the radio that any other year I've been alive to see. I hardly remember hearing about the Grammy's or Golden Globe's this year, because we've finally realized that they are meaningless trophies. The only respectable award, the Oscar was a complete failure when the fact that these votes are politically and socially motivated at last became common knowledge. Everything out of everyone's mouth was "this sucks," and with merit. Maybe we'll make 2005's "Best of" lists worth writing after all.

    -Km

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