Shannon Ryan

As many of my readers may have guessed–if I had many readers. I love the popular musics, and I love the YouTubes.

My friend George may cringe at this, but lately, I’ve been watching a lot of Lady Gaga videos, and something occurred to me–I don’t care much for Gaga’s music. I mean it’s okay, catchy even, but I wouldn’t sit and listen to it without watching the videos.

Gaga is a rock star because she acts like one, but not because she rocks out, just as, conversely, Weezer rocks out, but they act like dweebs. I mean, seriously, her videos are just badass, where Weezer’s videos are a little WTF.

As exhibit one, I offer Alejandro. This video has everything, rifle barel bras, neo-fascism, sweaty underwear-rubbing acrobats, simulated gangbangs, and it is backed by weak synth-pop. When I watch it, I don’t know if I want to touch myself or invest in a bomb shelter.

One the other hand, take Hash Pipe, one of the most rocking tunes ever with a video feature lots of sumo wrestling.  Now sumo may be the greatest of the non-western sports, demanding superior athleticism and a monk-like devotion to training, but it sucks for backing a bad-ass song, it looks like a bunch of fat guys in their underpants, and let’s face it, if I want to see that, I’ve got a mirror.

I stride across the rooftops, floating on the air. No one hears my footfall. No one sees my dark shape. My heart races as I grope for handholds, skitter across ledges, slide down drainpipes. I forget when I begin and the night ends. Then in that most excellent moment, I become myself, I realize my destiny, I reach out to my desires, and I steal your underpants.

This morning, I cooked some bacon, the candy of meats*. And despite the current overuse of bacon memes, I’d like to take a moment to sing its praises.

Once upon a time, pork belly was considered a meat for commoners. The phrase “eating high on the hog” actually comes from the idea that only the pork shoulder could produce superior meat. This belief stemmed from the British aristocracy’s well-documented fear of porcine genitalia, also the root of their hatred for Scotsmen.

This all changed in 1602 with the philosopher and statesman, Sir Francis Bacon, who sliced pork stomach into thin strips, pan fried it, and named it for himself. For this act, he was knighted in 1603 and eventually offered the office of Solicitor-General.

* I coined that phrase, but I’ll probably never get credit for it. You’re welcome, Internet.

Last night, I had one of my best critiques ever. I really feel like I have found my voice in this latest revision of Fangs. My voice is sexy and sarcastic. It is funny and brutal. It is edifying and gross.