Nine years ago, I wrote an article titled Cheeta Lives which, as I review it today, appears to have been written under the influence of Sudafed and illegally imported bathtub gin. At the time, Cheeta was 71 years old and living the high life in a retirement home, fawned after by nurses and addicted to bad TV and copies of National Geographic which, apparently, he sat and “read” through cover to cover each month.
On Christmas Day, as the haze of gift-giving and a heavy breakfast rolled into the afternoon, I grabbed the paper and found myself reading Cheeta’s obituary. The obit was, sadly, a little critical, detailing Cheeta’s prima donna attitude on set. His hate for Maureen O’Sullivan – Tarzan’s Jane – was severe and he would bite her and chase her at every opportunity, often ruining multiple takes. O’Sullivan spent the rest of her life referring to Cheeta as “that bastard,” and telling anyone who would listen about the chimp’s transgressions. Cheeta outlived her, but her daughter was on Twitter within moments of Cheeta’s death with a healthy helping of yuletide bitterness, retracted later in the day.
Cheeta’s nurses, however, report that he was a perfect gentleman. And now he’s in pet heaven. Being savaged by one of the Lassies.
It’s the tenth anniversary year for Great Society. In April of 2001, I set up Dirtyfreaks.com. I think there was the vague idea that it would be a porn site, but that somehow drifted into becoming a “literary” community. Which, then, drifted into insane ranting behind the guise of “Nacho Sasha” and, ten years later, I’m still sort of spinning around in circles in some vast emotional desert.
It’s also the tenth anniversary of 9/11. Yes, I know, every motherfucker in the world has written an anniversary article on that topic. Simply typing this out now makes me almost crazy enough to go blow up another building somewhere just for the sake of a distraction.
But, I’ll go ahead with this article. Because I’m an evil dog rapist. Though it’s boring to reminisce about the meaning of 9/11, and the changes that it ushered in for my city, my country, and my world. I think the thing to talk about is what it did not change. The fact that people before and during 9/11 were fucking waterhead assholes and, ten years later, they’re still a horrible plague.
Continue reading ‘Generica, 9/11′
Birthday today. 37. Scary. I can post whatever I want today, though. That’s the rule. You all made this rule, not me. I am but a servant of Rome.
Continue reading ‘Questionable Archives’
Greatsociety has just finished its 10 year anniversary. I was glad to get the articles done and return to normal activity, but Osama’s death has inspired another piece. My retrospective, I guess. Since September 23rd, 2001, I’ve been writing about the tasteless and insane adventures of Texas Billionaire Oscar bin Laden. Here ends his tale.
Continue reading ‘Eulogy’
A couple years ago, I decided to pick up every coin I found during my daily walks around Capitol Hill and obsessively record the findings in the forums. For the last few months, though, I’ve not had much luck. A part of me blames this on the economy. As things get tighter, and as we get more fretful, maybe we’re all stopping to pick up those pennies… Maybe I can chart the downfall of America through the nearly 200 posts in that forum topic.
But, more likely, the culprit is the wave of gentrification that’s swept through the DC area. Namely, the creation of the artificial neighborhood of “NoMa,” which spreads from New York Avenue up to Union Station, weaves around and down 2nd Street, and spiritually engulfs historic Capitol Hill and the revitalized H St. Corridor. “NoMa,” which stands for “North of Massachusetts Avenue,” because we want to pretend we’re like New York, is a business/residential district in the formerly dystopian northeast of DC. In the last decade, I’ve watched it change from a decaying warehouse district populated by whores, pushers, bloodied strippers, and madmen, all watched carefully by roving gangs of vigilantes, into a glittering collection of office buildings, cafes, markets, and condos that start at $3000 a month.
Continue reading ‘Vanilla City’
Well, there we go. Ten years of Greatsociety. Archived articles, retrospectives from our Confederate dead, an intensely insular nerdgasm about the 20 best sci-fi films, and now we’re in the home stretch.
Continue reading ‘What Was Found’
Great Society is ten years old.
Much of the Southeast quadrant of Washington, DC is riddled with crime and poverty.
The redevelopment of the H Street Corridor in Northeast DC is in full force, which will revitalize buildings untouched since the 1968 riots that erupted after the assassination of Martin Luther King when parts of H Street were nearly burned to the ground.
Chandra Levy is still dead.
Continue reading ‘A Nightmare in DC: Chandra, Southeast, & Other Rotting Corpses’
What I like best about Greatsociety is that consistency has never been a primary concern. In the early days of my readership I came for the Notes on the Margin series but quickly became absorbed by all the posts that described the spermy, freakazoid, booze-addled shadow world in which Nacho Sasha was both prophet and profiteer.
Continue reading ‘We Can Tell People to Go to Hell, and They Just Might Fall Through the Earth’
Jezebel, one of the original authors back in the Dirtyfreaks days, returns!
Continue reading ‘The Death of Jezebel’
When the webpage changed over from Dirtyfreaks.com to Greatsociety, we added a primitive little forums module. Since then, the forums have been home to a small group of, well, deeply crazy people. Considering that there are only a handful of active members, it’s a surprisingly busy board. By far, the most colorful forum member goes by the handle “monkey,” and he’s been around since the start. When it came time for a week of retrospectives, I asked him if he had anything to say…and the below is the result.
Continue reading ‘Words of Mass Destruction’