SEVEN THINGS WE DON’T CARE ABOUT THIS WEEK: The Once and Future King Edition

“Not caring about things since 1971, so that you don’t have to.”

 

Johnny cash gives the bird_thumb_w_5807. People not having any idea, or interest, in political issues but knowing every detail about the Royal baby.

Hugs in the ring. Haymakers in the home.

Hugs in the ring. Haymakers in the home.

6. Everything about Floyd Mayweather.

You can, and should, appreciate that in his boring, methodical, occasionally craven fashion, he is a brilliant tactician. That he is considered the best pound-for-pound fighter of our day says a great deal about how boring, methodical and occasionally craven the boxing game has become. (Never mind the myriad reasons to rightly loathe Mayweather, as a “man”.) That this farce commanded $100 per view obliges us to recall the best fights of all time used to be shown, for free, on TV. It makes me long for the days this guy wrote about.

Man of the Sheeple.

Man of the Sheeple.

5. Chuck Norris.

Not for being an idiot. Not for milking every vanishing ounce of his celebrity by appealing to the basest fears of his most obtuse fans (and that’s just his movies). Not for possibly, against all reasonable probability, actually believing any of the shit he spouts. But for the fact that his ongoing descent into megalomaniacal and paranoid delusion is making it impossible to appreciate the handful of things we once liked about him.

New and improved; looks cool AND kills you!

New and improved; looks cool AND kills you!

4. Our ceaseless obsession with fucking up the planet and everything living on it, for a profit.

Seriously. Are you serious with this shit?

3. The fact that The Kentucky Derby is still Decadent and Depraved.

Hypocrisy, Insanity and Incompetence FTW!

Hypocrisy, Insanity and Incompetence FTW!

2. The GOP clown car is crowded to capacity and it’s still only 2015.

The Once and Future King

The Once and Future King

1. Nigel Terry, RIP.

With Nigel Terry goes a huge, heartfelt chunk of Harold’s childhood.

Indelible as King Arthur in the still-underrated Excalibur, Terry didn’t do much after this role, and he didn’t need to.

About Harold D. Muir

Although not yet twenty, Harold D. Muir has launched numerous apps, lost a fortune in Bitcoin speculation, and ghost-written three novels. Born and raised in the UK by a now-disgraced headmaster father who led a double life as a football hooligan, Muir’s memoir Son of a Thug is currently being shopped to publishers. Presently at large in the U.S. and working on a screenplay, he credits his productivity to a regular diet of Absinthe, Bebop, and the kindness of librarians.
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