Hooooo-boy. Yessiree. You said it.
Anyway you cut it, 2008 was what we in the faux-news, culture-watch, pseudo-business of the internet refer to as “One heck of a thing.”
In a virtual employment genocide under President “Why Can’t I Wear Pajamas to School”, millions of American jobs were lost, and remain so, while we collectively renew our dusty library cards to check our e-mail in front of strangers, and then scan scornfully through the deluge of Borders coupons that await us there.
We are, all of us, the new common man.
We eat fast food sober now. We become confused and enraged by the different breeds of iPod (Coming in 2010: “The Chromo”). And we turn our boxers inside out to buy ourselves an extra day, or maybe just to make sure “Valentine’s Day Spongebob” feels our pain as he’s rubbing against our ass.*
Because that’s where we are: out on our ass.
Now, I’m not one of those smart people you read about on television, but when I was approached about doing a new video show for TameTheBear.TV, I only had one question- “How do frogs have babies?” But then my very next question was “Where do I sign?” A new comedic video show about the Great Depression II? Just what America needs to help them pull up their bootstraps, polish an apple on their vest, and march with dignity and a spring in their step down the dusty road to starvation. I was on my way!
But then…then came the darkness. You know the one. It’s 2:00 am, you’ve exhausted your Hulu queue and the sudden dull, creeping silence climbs the back of your neck like a gloved hand. Its tarantulan stride gracefully dances up your spinal column, like the slow ashen ascent of modern madness itself, and then all at once it hits you: “You have never used your English degree,” or “You’re not sexually attracted to either gender,” or “The Challenger disaster really WAS your fault.”
Or in my case: “You don’t know beans about the economy.”
Well, that’s the bad news. The good news is, neither does anyone else.**
It’s a new year, with a whole new playbook. The rich aren’t necessarily getting richer anymore, and these new editions to the working class might need a chuckle as bad as the rest of us while they’re job hunting on the guest computer in the church basement, (maybe getting the audio through a pair of earbuds they “found” dangling out of some smug teen’s backpack on the bus).
Some aspects of this site might help you with consumer reports, tips on living frugal or insights into the latest financial news. My department? Funny hats. Yelling. Photoshop. Tiny songs. Animals. More yelling.
Welcome to Poorville, population you and me, and the foreseeable future.
*Just kidding. On my Valentine’s Day themed Spongebob boxers, his face was on the front, with the fly going up his forehead. It facilitated a disturbing image.
**Actually, that’s definitely the bad news.
Photo: Yours truly, playing a delightful hobo named Uncle Pants-Down
