Being mean is not the point; displaying that which he cannot secure via beggary is the only way he'll ever grasp the 10th commandment:

Yeah, a venue to discuss non-mass-produced arts and culture, whether folk art or fine art, would be nice, though I've honestly grown largely cynical about both. On the folk side you have the Etsy-fication of our authenticity-obsessed society with everyone hanging a quirky little shingle (ever heard of Regretsy.com?),…

So glad you asked…two that come immediately to mind are:
1. Eric Fischl's Bad Boy (1981) with its dual depravity of a woman's spread-eagle seduction of a minor while he rummages through her purse behind his back. While it's not exactly chock-full, it's definitely some taint misbehavin'.
2. Chris Ofili's Holy Virgin…

No, nor the Ben & Jerry's flavor…
…but here's a dose of taint to cheer you up:

I'd say these paintings are more stupefyingly uninteresting than most anything on this website or in global headlines. His glib execution shows no interest in capturing any essence. I mean, look at what an opportunity for painterly expression was disregarded with that taint…why bother painting at all?

Dull is really the key word — there's not much novelty esp. if you know a bit of recent art history, which is chock full of taint. What would be genuinely "oddball" or unexpected is for him to make more than a half-assed effort and be brave enough to attempt some sort of actual meaning or resonance rather than hide…

In my dream of dreams it would be his long-time pal and comedic collaborator Amy Sedaris. If anybody can upstage Stephen in terms of hilariously hideous caricatures, it's Amy.

Agreed, but then maybe they could invent some whacky younger cousin, even more crazily right wing and hickish…

Yeah, it seems really premature unless Colbert and Comedy Central have worked out some clever early transition plan, something like a John Oliver summer substitute but after which the substitute takes over. I could imagine Colbert yielding his Report chair to a young successor within the coming weeks and then only…

I'll take Paul any day over a bland everyman like Mark Ruffalo, who probably has shitloads of decent roles shoveled his way.

Well, he does offer a very trenchant rationale:
"Who can't be addicted? It's dads getting knocked in the dicks with Wiffle balls."

Or the romantic version (since DeBurgh did hit that)

In the event that refocusing elsewhere fails to remove the DeBurgh earworm, proceed to attempt a mental overwrite via parody cover rendition, such as that found in October 7, 2002 Daily Show segment: http://thedailyshow.cc.com/…

Plus, J-Stew seems to have fond memories.
http://thedailyshow.cc.com/…

I suspect this song makes a lot of people between the ages of 30 and 45 recall high school dances, relationships and crushes. Sure, it's a stupidly insipid song, but it's unfair to label as stupid or tasteless anyone who harbors a soft spot—or, gasp, dances to it at a wedding. It's just an evocative relic of late 80's…

Sweatpants are the epitome of frump, no doubt about it, and I always despised the ones with stuff written on the ass, but then with the elastic waistband it's hard to think of an easier type of pants to slip down… so I guess you could call them sexy if only in terms of accessibility…

Yes, the sad sordid truth about blow jobs and other gay sexual favors making this crazy world go 'round was long ago established by courageous documentarians Robert Odenkirk and David Cross:
http://www.youtube.com/watc…

That dumbfuck demagogue might have had some sliver of a point if conservatives even watched Letterman, but they don't. Dave vocally despised Bush and drove most Republican boomers away ten years ago.

Well sure, fuck the South, but I don't want to give the Great Plains states "real 'Merica" bragging rights either…Jon Stewart would go off on this shit circa the '04 election. Plus, "heartland" is a total misnomer; "fuck safety nets; every cocksucker for himself" better describes the Draconian frontier ethos of these…

I think the NYTimes review last week correctly identified a pervasive sense of exhaustion. Sure, they've just come through the assassinations and social upheavals of 1968, and the death of Hippie idealism at Altamont and the Manson murders are yet to come, but then the main characters' weariness seems a bit more…