I love Jesse Landis-Eigsti. I love his name. I love the faces he makes. I love his writing style. I love his brain.
I’ve never met Jesse Landis-Eigsti.
I’ve posted about his blog, Jesse Reviews the World, before and here is Jesse, in all of his glory, reviewing some things for you. I bet you’ll love him too soon.
At Jesse Reviews the World, the creative process is very standardized. I awake in the morning, being Jesse. At some point in the day, some noun I encounter catches my eye due to its adjective-ness (Eg: Cabin in the Woods for its awesomeness; Cosmopolitan Magazine for its depressing-ness; the Pittsburgh road system for its dysfunctional-ness). I then sit down and manically write about that thing until I have properly explicated, say, Reeses Puffs. To cap off the review, I give the subject an arbitrary letter grade, just like in Elementary School. Two days later, my mother “likes” my review on Facebook. I repeat these steps every two to three months.
When I was given this chance to post on a blog that people actually read, though, I decided I didn’t want to blow it all on a single review. Instead, here are five Quickie Reviews in ascending grade level.
JESSE’S QUICKIE REVIEWS
People Who Talked Loudly Through An Entire St. Vincent Concert
I have a proposal. At the doors of concerts, the bouncers give every patron a questionnaire. It is filled with such questions as:
Do you think other people at concerts want to hear the music maybe? Y/N
Are you capable of taking a break from telling your own stupid stories for thirty frigging minutes? Y/N
Do friends and relations describe you as “a frustrating, self-centered poop-wad?” Y/N
If there are too many warning signs in a patron’s answers, the bouncer wedgies the guilty party and sends them on their way.
Dear People Who Talked Loudly Through An Entire St. Vincent Concert: I hope somebody farts non-stop during your wedding.
Man, Chu, your tag is just not that cool. A friend suggested that we write “Pika” before every instance of “chu” written on our fair city, so we’re all thinking about a cuddly Japanese cartoon character rather than your jagoff* graffiti. It’s tempting, but I’m not sure it’s possible to make lemonade out of these particular scribbly lemons.
*Did I do that right? I’m new here.
Taco Bell food is much like wine in a box. In college, it was deemed necessary, due to Low Funds, Irony, and the Pursuit of Fun Times, to ingest these things regularly. After graduating, however, imbibing either tends to fill you with intestinal regret…which turns your Fun Times Snack into a Somber Reminder of the Disintegration of Your Mortal Body. I still eat the Teeb (as we affectionately called it) from time to time, but it’s mostly for nostalgic purposes, and my guts always pay the price.
Call Me Maybe
I might feel differently if I worked in an environment where I heard it all the time, but I like this ubiquitous pop song. The chorus has those syncopated violins and cheery guitar squiggles, and the melody and lyrics were clearly written for good-hearted tweens to memorize upon a single listen. It gets demerits for its tendency to embed itself in my brain…in fact, it’s lodged in there now, ever since I wrote “syncopated violins.” It’s probably stuck in your head too, now. Crap! Sorry.
“Call Me Maybe” gets Bonus Points for the Cookie Monster parody: Share It Maybe.
Comic Book Wizard
This one guy who works at the wonderful Copacetic Comics in Polish Hill has some sort of algorithm that lets him predict exactly what sort of graphic novel you will like. “I liked Habibi pretty well,” you might mention, and he’ll quickly supply you with twelve works similar in tone, content, or drawing style. Unlike some with encyclopedic knowledge, Comic Book Wizard doesn’t sneer when you look for something campy, nor does he ever try to show off. He just uses his powers for good, and I’m all the more literate because of it. Dear CBW, I don’t know your real name but you are my hero.
Blam! Five things, all reviewed. You’re welcome, Pittsburgh; now you know what you should like.