This is my post about
Asia. ASIA ROCKS HARDER THAN ANY OTHER BAND IN THE WORLD!
Here are the lyrics to my favorite song, about stem cell research.
I never meant to be so bad to you
One thing I said that I would never do
A look from you and I would fall from grace
And it would wipe the smile right from my face
Do you remember when we used to dance
And incidents arose from circumstance
One thing led to another, we were young
And we would scream together songs unsung
*It was the heat of the moment
Telling me what my heart meant
The heat of the moment showed
in your eyes
And now you find yourself in '82
The disco hot spots hold no charm for you
You can concern yourself with bigger things
You catch a pearl and ride the dragon's wings
CHORUS (where you really start to rock out)
And when your looks have gone and you're alone
How many nights you sit beside the phone
What were the things you wanted for yourself
Teenage ambitions you remember well
CHORUS
Okay, so my Dad is
the local celebrity afternoon drive disc jockey on a popular country
music radio station. He lays on the couch and watches baseball games,
and tries to watch his weight. He is a normal guy. Subsequently
I grew up with a deep voice, a love of organized sports (specifically
the fake ones), and self-esteem problems. But nothing I can't deal
with. Sometimes I feel bad when I eat too many vegetarian buffalo
wings. No big.
Dario Argento is the Italian master of horror. You don't get to
be the master of anything by laying on the couch or watching baseball
games, especially the master of horror. Your couch would have to
be made of dead babies and the baseball games would have to be played
by zombies with cracked baseball bats poking out of their eye sockets.
He is the Italian Hitchcock. The "master of macabre."
The "Visconti of Violence." His film-making routine includes
women being stabbed to death with shards of glass.
A direct quote:
"I like women, especially beautiful ones. If they have a good
face and figure, I would much prefer to watch them being murdered
than an ugly girl or man. I certainly don't have to justify myself
to anyone about this. I don't care what anyone thinks or reads into
it. I have often had journalists walk out of interviews when I say
what I feel about this subject."
The man has made a living by casting beautiful women in his movies
and pretending to kill them in the most grotesque and unbelievable
ways imaginable. For example, in Dario's film "OPERA"
Coralina Cataldi-Tassoni gets a pair of scissors jammed down her
throat. In his "Phantom of the Opera" adaptation Julian
Sands bites off a girl's tongue and impales her lover on a big rock.
Actually the best part of that movie is when the midget
rat catcher crashes his rodent hunting-mobile and gets
his head chopped off by a flying blade. But the point of this is
that Dario Argento doesn't just kill pretty girls: He casts his
own daughter(s) in his movies and gruesomely murders them, many
times getting them naked first. A little unnerved? That's Dario
Argento for you. Give him the hottest girl in the world for a daughter
and he'll tape her butt fucking and then stick a screwdriver into
her ear.
AND BUTT FUCK SHE
NO WAIT HOLD ON I TOLD IT WRONG
AND FOR A DAUGHTER
THE HOTTEST GIRL IN THE WORLD HE GETS.
OH YEAH.
I'm naturally attracted
to dorky girls, it seems. Not ugly girls or anything, just girls
that don't have an incredible level of self-confidence. I like a
girl that can hang out with you without dictating your every move.
I like a girl that feels comfortable enough to lay around in her
underwear but isn't going to dance on the tables at the Goth club
swinging her boobs around like pendulums over a pit of Robert Smiths.
I prefer a girl who swings her boobs over Peter Murphy. Still kinda
overly gloomy but not so wimpy. But then Asia Argento walks into
the room (most of the time on my television screen) and my love
of dorky girls is devoured and pooped out into one of those Play-Doh
machines that turns blobs into blue spaghetti. She is cool to the
level of making Fonzie's head explode. Which would be pretty cool
because it would go AAAAAAY-BOOOM. She is cool to the level of making
all other cool things look like reruns of Designing Women.
That means that shit like Family Circus breaks the coolness flux
capacitor and spins around until our newspapers fly back in time,
and we're stuck with six stories about what Beyonce's great-great
grandmother is wearing. You know what she was wearing? CHAINS.
It was just a joke. But you don't have to take MY word for
it! Doo doo doo!
Being the hottest girl
in the world is subjective. There are people in the world, lots
of them, who think that Britney Spears is the hottest. These people
name "blue" as their favorite color. They have no flavor
in life. They are "plain." They are original. They are
M&Ms without the candy coating. They are the lame e/n website
without a camgirl portal. They are LO without the L. They are a
paragraph that doesn't know when to end the joke. They are Monica
Lewinsky without the OMG MONICA LEWINSKY
She's smart. Asia, who's real name is Asia Aria Anna Maria Vittoria
Rossa Argento, wrote and published three books between the ages
of five and nine. By the time she was nine she had three books,
six first names, a dad who likes to kill people, and probably an
inclination to respond to childhood bickering by bashing the bully's
face in with a doll. A doll with the eyes pulled out. And her name
is "Asia," pronounced "Ah-zee-ah" and not like
the continent. Or the most ROCKING BAND IN THE WORLD.
DON'T CRY NOW THAT I'VE FOUND YOU
DON'T CRY TAKE A LOOK AROUND YOU
DON'T CRY IT TOOOK SO LONG TO FIND YOU
DO WHAT YOU WANT,
BUT LITTLE DARLIN', PLEASE,
DON'T CRY
She's a witch. But not
really. Her great grandmother (not Beyonce) was a piano student
who went to a school where the students studied black magic, and
used her experience to become a white witch. Her mother, Italian
screen and stage actress Daria Nicolodi, would wake Asia and her
sister Fiore up before sunset and let them watch her play with the
wind, commanding it to move wherever she wanted. Italian newspapers
sometime call Asia the "devil," because she can't be killed.
She's survived car wrecks and sure death. She wears all black. She
smokes like a locomotive and could probably kick the crap out the
Truth.com kids. All of them. At once. How many crying baby
dolls can you fit in a straight-edge kid's ass? My record
is two. Asia could probably swing six or seven.
She's inked.
  
She has her dead sister's
name tattooed on her ribs. She got an eye tattooed on her shoulder
because she was fourteen and burned out on hash in Amsterdam. She
has a Belgian woman with angels wings between her navel and God's
aforementioned promised land. That's reserved for rock stars and
people cooler than you or I will ever meet. I don't even pretend
to be cool enough to imagine having sex with Asia Argento. I just
imagine saying hi to her and having her punch me as hard as I can
in the face. When she was 17 she got two snakes crawling out of
her ass. About this time Drew Barrymore was whimpering about the
dangers of drugs and alcohol. D.A.R.E. to make a good movie,
Drew. "Mad Love." More like BAD LOVE am I rite??
Asia Argento Version 1.0
Snakes. Crawling out of
her ass. I'm ashamed that the first thing I asked myself was "Would
Indiana Jones chose to do her in the butt or be too afraid?"
Assuming we're talking Raiders Indiana and neither River Phoenix
young Indy or 60 year old Single Female Lawyer Indy. Those douchebags
couldn't run tampon errands for her.
She's made her own movie, on her terms. Asia wrote, directed, and
starred in the semi-autobiographical "Scarlet Diva," a
film somewhere between art and porn about a young, popular, 24-year-old
Italian-born International film actress who engages herself on a
hectic and self-destructive spree which takes her across Europe
and to America to shed her "boy-toy" image to become an
"artist" in order to write and direct herself in a semi-biography
movie titled "Scarlet Diva."
Is it a great movie? No.
It's an awful movie. There is barely a plot. The movie is less "movie"
and more "amazing experience." It's almost impossible
to sit through; the images burn themselves into the frontal lobe
of your brain and sit there rotting until you deal with them. Drugs,
rape, pregnancy, abortions, interracial sex, HLA,
having sex while bleeding and upside down, children making out,
fingers and toes, eyeballs and rectums and all of the horrifyingly
realistic things that we, or at least she, go through. She makes
a poignant moment out of shaving her armpits on camera. She admits
to herself that she's never made love before because she's always
been a whore. What a fucking woman.
Her movies aren't...well, they aren't ALL bad. I've got B. Monkey
on DVD for two reasons. Not for the reason that many females enjoy
the movie (Rupert Everett and Jonathan Rhys-Meyers as an admittedly
but overly cute couple). Not for the bad aspects of the movie, like
the general ridiculousness of it all or seeing Jared Harris' bare
ass. I own the movie firstly because the title "B. Monkey"
is one of the funniest movie titles ever. Just say it out loud.
"B. Monkey." That reaches thrashing BMX levels of radical.
I own the movie secondly because Asia has a bunch of sex while "Glory
Box" by Portishead plays in the background. If we went out
for sushi with Kurt Angle afterwards that would
pretty much describe my perfect day. It at least makes up for her
being the thing that Vin Diesel is gonna do for his country in XXX.
give me a reason to love you.
I want the job of writing
XXX 2. The "thing" he'd "do" for his "country"
would be a calisthenics workout in a big pink leotard for big pink
Vin and his fast and furious throng of faggotry. I mean, I could've
TOLD YOU Vincent, the world was never meant for
one as beautiful as you.
She has a band cooler than yours. "Trash Palace" is kinda
like the Italian underground strung-out-and-trying-to-kill-themselves-in-front-of-you
Gorillaz. The band exists in a computer somewhere but guests include
Placebo's Lead Singer Brian Molko, Velvet Underground's John Cale,
The Cranes lead singer Alison Shaw, French popstar Jean Louis Murat,
and Asia. They're described as electro-pop-rock conceptual work.
It sounds kinda like a guy with tourette's syndrome
listening to Prodigy while he tries to start a lawnmower.
The kind of music you want to dance to but end up shaking your fists
at. The kind of music that makes me want to put my head through
a chalkboard. Trash Palace is most excellent.
So, if Dario Argento was your dad would you turn out like Asia?
Or her sister Fiore, who sells shoes for a living? Are you Barbarella
or Al Bundy? If I were Dario Argento's kid I would've (probably)
lapsed into a coma by now. I can imagine him coming over for the
holidays. Instead of knocking on your door he'd hide outside of
your bathroom window with face paint on and an eyeball hanging out,
and then when you're on the crapper he'd burst through Resident
Evil zombie style and your turd would ZING POW right out
of your ass and break your toilet. Then you'd have shards of porcelain
all over the ground and you'd be sitting in cold brown mush with
a creepy Italian guy lurched over you pretending to stab you. But
he's rich, so he'd totally buy you a car for Christmas.
And finally we get to the point of this article.
The true meaning of Christmas.
You’re all set for
Christmas. The stockings are up, the Christmas tree is decorated,
and everyone has a present under the tree. You’ve picked out
Christmas candy, the ham is in the freezer, and you’re ready
for the big day.
As you head up stairs to bed on Christmas Eve Mom asks you, “Did
you leave the milk and cookies out for Santa?” And yes, even
that’s taken care of. But are you missing something? What does
Christmas really mean? Is it all about getting presents and eating
candy canes and waiting up for Santa Claus?
The word “Christmas” gives us some hints about what Christmas
was originally about. It started off with the birth of Jesus Christ,
over two thousand years ago in the country of Israel.
Jesus’ birth is very
important to Christians around the world who believe that Jesus
is the Son of God. They celebrate Christmas like a big birthday
party. That’s why they give gifts to each other, because Jesus
was born on that day.
When I was a little girl we had a tradition in my house of making
a Jesus birthday cake. My family is Christian and my mom
would bake a cake and write “Happy Birthday Jesus” across
it in frosting.
But families celebrate Christmas in all sorts of ways. Some families
put up lots of lights all over their houses, and decorations to
celebrate the holiday. Maybe your family buys you lots of presents
and puts them under the Christmas tree, or maybe you go to a church
service. Maybe you don’t celebrate Christmas at all.
The most important thing
to remember when you’re thinking about Christmas is that it’s
not just about presents or Santa Claus or singing carols. Christmas
marks a very important historic event. You can read the actual Christmas
story in Matthew or Luke in the Bible, and maybe this Christmas
you can think about the holiday in a slightly new way.
This year I only have two things on my Christmas list, in humble
reverence to our Lord. Asia Argento naked, and THE VERY
BEST OF ASIA MOTHERFUCKER
When I ran from the hounds of hell
Twist my foot, I nearly fell
I was lucky I was alive
One look back I could have died
{chorus}
I was the sole survivor
Sole survivor
Sole survivor
Solitary fighter
When I saw it I was amazed
One time glory right in my gaze
I saw the sorrow, I saw the joy
Right in the darkness none could destroy
{chorus}
And from the wreckage I will arise
Cast the ashes back in their eyes
See the fire, I will defend
Just keep on burning right to the end
{chorus}
|
