You know what day it is--it's GIANT CHEESE WAX BALL FIXES YOUR LIFE DAY, a/k/a Friday, so commence with the asking, and prepare to be enlightened!
- Aaron C.
GCWB: Sorry for the delay, folks, we ran long at my last gig saving a distant planet from being absorbed by a collapsing neutron star which would've destroyed civilization and killled every inhabitant, blah blah blah, and then we had to wait around forever to get paid. Anyway, to your questions.
Reich (the economist, not the accordion player) is indeed an expert at countering any glimmer of a good mood you might dare to have with his endless harping on lousy news and terrible calypso singing. (He was like that even when we were in school together, but you had to let him get away with it because he was the best damn center our basketball team ever had.) Income inequality is a real problem--I believe the most recent figures suggested that not only did the average CEO make a googolplex times more than his lowest-paid employee, the CEO also hired people to personally spit on every individual dollar the lowest-paid employee received. (He then outsourced the spitting to a firm in Bangladesh, laid off the spitters, foreclosed on their houses and collected a bonus.)
The solution to this problem is obviously the abolition of money, and the development of a new economy based entirely around who can say the cleverest things.
Are Redskins going to win Sunday?
- Joseph B.
GCWB: The Redskins may win, Joseph, but they won't really deserve it until they change their racist-ass name. Just off the top of my ball, here are some suggestions, any of which would be an immediate improvement and morale booster:
The Washington Skin-colored Skins
The Washington Gridlock
The Washington Wallabies
The Washington Irvings
The Washington Monuments
The Washington George Washingtons
The Washington Washing Machines
The Washington Redd Foxes
The Washington Respectful Portrayal of Native American Archetypes
The Washington Denzels
The Washington Expos
The Washington Racists
The Washington Mets
Dear GQWB, I recently picked up a DSLR camera and I was wondering, should I get buy a new lens now or after the government shutdown? Also, what is the best F stop for taking a picture of a politician's ass-end and will the fact that his head is in there already interfere with my ability to get a good focus? I love photography!
GCWB: It's nice to see a young whippersnapper like yourself catching the shutter bug, Ben--back in the day no self-respecting man- or ball-about-town would be caught dead without his handy camera, or "snappershotter" as we used to call them. Ah, those heady days, when my fellow photobuffs and I would stroll the boulevards snapping pics and capturing memories of unforgettable sunsets, serendipitous moments of beauty, passed-out drunks with their pants down, sunbathing neighbors, cheating spouses, and other delights. But now every Tom, Dick, and Denzel has his own private photo studio in his pocket, capable of adding with the touch of a screen complicated lighting effects which my generation only accomplished through the hard work of knowing nothing about film and being terrible photographers.
But to answer your questions, I recommend an f-stop of f/11 for everything, because 11 is my favorite number and is easy to remember (just think of two ones standing next to each other like a pair of drunks who have stood up and pulled up their pants). Fun fact: did you know that the f-stop scale is an approximately geometric sequence of numbers that corresponds to the sequence of the powers of the square root of 2? Actually, that's not very fun at all.
GCWB, I need a serious Calgon-take-me-away. What should I do this weekend (after I'm done being stranded in a hotel on the east coast) to make me feel better?
- Heather T.
GCWB: Ahh, the old stranded-in-a-hotel-on-the-East-coast story. We've all been there, Heather. As I see it, you have three options for getting your groove back after such a harrowing trial. They are:
- Meditate on top of a mountain until your heart chakra opens or condors build a roost in your lap, whichever comes first;
- Dance the night away on Ye Olde Cap'n Mambo's Booty Barge, home of the jalapeño margarita, where no timber goes un-shivered, and where every night is ladies' night (except every other Wednesday, when Cap'n Mambo's wife's canasta group meets); or:
- Why not call up Bruce Hornsby? I don't think he's got much going on, and he could probably use the company.
Oh, God, GCWB, look what's happened now! What am I to do? WHAT AM I TO DO?
- Simon S.
GCWB: You're talking about that hack Alice Munro winning the Nobel for literature, aren't you, Simon? I can't believe it either. And Murakami gets the shaft again. The only thing that might bring me consolation for such a sorry state of affairs would be if, say, the Earth were about to be engulfed by a collapsing neutron star. It's not, of course! Why would you think it is? (But if it were, I should let you know I accept third-party checks.)
Got a question for the Giant Cheese Wax Ball? Shoot it over to wuladian [ a t ] gmail.com.