ALIVE FROM NEW YORK
This marks my first non-video game themed website design. It’s based on the current look of Saturday Night Live, combined with some added flourishes like an 2D-designed Chrysler Building next to the text. It felt like a time to laugh, and SNL is the source I go to for most laughter these days.
That sketch show is special because it has done something no other show on television has—evolve with the times. Its purpose is straightforward: to make people laugh, but the route the show has taken has always been ever-changing. Generations of comedians and writers have mixed up the formula, some preferring a contemporary sketch show, others a zanier, aloof style of sketches that have nothing much to do with current events. The show can be penetratingly satirical or drug-inducingly avante garde, and both work.
I chose SNL as the design for my website because it’s something I need right now. I’ve never been a consistent SNL viewer, but I find the show more important than ever these days. Partly because of the political climate, along with the rampant irrationality that spreads across a nation further defined by polarization, but also because the show is a reminder that a group of people can come together and try to make something people can laugh about. It’s the purest form of, “getting on with the show,” something America should be reminded to do now and again. We could all use a little more laughter instead of endless, unwavering, and suffocating scrutiny about who is right and who ought to be ostracized.
Below are the graphics I’ve made for the redesign:
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“AT THE SAME TIME?”
WARNING: upon a second edit, this section is quite crass. Viewer discretion advised.
I had a 24-hour stomach virus over the weekend. I told a select group of people about it (co-workers, family) and they said, “Oh, no! I’m sorry to hear that!” which is the correct reaction (it beats: “Finally! What took so long?”) However, what usually follows a proclamation of sympathy is this strange investigation into what type of stomach flu it was:
“Did you have vomiting and diarrhea? Both? AT THE SAME TIME?!”
Maybe there’s a tiered system of stomach virus/flu and only the most severe of symptoms garners the most sympathy. Like: “Oh, it only came out of ONE end, did it? Sounds like it wasn’t so bad after all.” (And I imagine this being said with a pompous twirl of a scarf as this person walked away—which seems more insulting than it ought to be).
Luckily, I didn’t have both symptoms of stomach flu (vomiting and diarrhea) at the same time. I had the former, primarily, which wasn’t a picnic. I’m not sure who enjoys uncontrollable vomiting, but I’m sure there’s a select group of people out there, and they must have a magazine. If it’s out of print, I’d like to have an issue or two to see what headlined the front cover.
“Finally lost control and I liked it!”
And…
“The colors that came out of me! (And what this means for your horoscope!).”
If you have a mind like mine (which you don’t, so feel lucky), you start to contemplate the phrase “At the same time,” a little too literally. I started to wonder what it would be like to vomit and have diarrhea…but coming out of the same end. Imagining both in conjunction with the sphincter isn’t very creative since most diarrhea already feels like vomiting and feces are typical combo meal, like surf and turf (which is, ironically, would be a great name for this condition in the first place). No, we’ve all experienced that liquid-blast-hybrid-mix diarrhea of the flu before, that’s nothing new.
I mean the other way around: what if diarrhea took the stairs and came out the esophagus along with uncontrollable vomiting?
Knowing my luck, and history of bowel movements, it wouldn’t be liquid-based and runny diarrhea, but a thick, slow trickler inching upwards towards the roof of my mouth, as stubborn as a cork untwisting from a bottle of overly carbonated champagne. After a few bouts of vomiting, there would be a backup, and nothing would come out. It would sound like an engine that would not turn over (gerp, geep!), and my airway would be completely clogged. My head would jerk as though something ought to be happening, but nothing would eject.
In a panic, I’d race about the bathroom, looking for anything to unclog my throat. Rummaging through drawers and wasting precious oxygen, I’d look for a roto-rooter. Only, I don’t know that is, I’ve only heard of its use of unclogging clogs. Instead, I’d find an old, dusty toothbrush, a skinny one, and cram it down my throat, only I’m too slow to recognize that I’m compacting feces into my airway instead of poking a hole through the blockage.
With my muscles weakening from the lack of oxygen, my vision gets blurry. I can’t call anyone, can’t text 9-1-1 because it will be too late, and I will be the only human being besides some sick, medieval torture victims to have died from human waste crammed in their breathing tube.
Then, the answer would hit me: there are straws in a downstairs kitchen drawer. Quickly, I would retrieve one, pushing it through the thick sewage. After using up a few straws (they get clogged, too—you’ve never had a McFlurry before? Same problem), the last one gets through, and I can breathe like someone with intense emphysema (or so I’ve been told by drug-resistance programs since I was a kid—“It’s like breathing through a straw!” they told us over and over again. And then a police officer would pass out straws and have us breath for two minutes only through the straw and would receive a prize at the end if we could do it. We all did, because it turns out that breathing through the nose is silent, and there were many winners that day–to the shock and awe of the Township’s finest).
Anyway, I survive long enough to text a family member, debating if I should receive the Heimlich Maneuver or just call 9-1-1. I pass on both and decide to drive myself to the hospital, leaning over the steering wheel in such a way that doesn’t bend the straw lodged in my throat. After pulling up to the ER entrance, a nurse would surely see what was the matter, shake her head (ER nurses have seen it all), and say, “Stomach flu, huh? I’m sorry to hear that. Vomiting and diarrhea? AT THE SAME TIME?! This way please…”
And then the world materializes.
I’m sitting at the breakfast table with my parents. We’ve just finished a discussion about coupon codes for buying scented soaps for Christmas. All is quiet. I shrug, sip my coffee (it’s cold, I spit it out), and think, “That was a weird thought. I should write that down.”
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THE KYLE RITTENHOUSE VERDICT
Like most of America, I’ve been trying to conceptualize how this guy was found Not Guilty on all counts. Also, like most of America, I’m not surprised that he was acquitted. In trying to understand how it all happened, I’ve found the best answer possible, and it turns out the musical Chicago handled this exact situation some 46 years ago in 1975.
So, if you’d like a recap of what happened in the trial (missing the sobs and cries of another white man realizing he may feel guilty about killing two people, of course), please see the video below:
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I have one recommendation for this week and it’s the entire Shang-Chi and The Legend of the Ten Rings album.
The track selections are some of the best hip hop, rap, and pop songs I’ve heard in a long time. The entire album is a joy, particularly “In the Dark” by Swae Lee and Jhené Aiko, as well as “Fire in the Sky” by Anderson .Paak. Please, check it out!
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Wishing everyone as well as they can be. You’re not alone out there,
