20 January 2009

Back Hand Cards

Occasionally, my duties as cultural connoisseur and art detector enter into the realm of the bizarre. This is that. That is, it's this. That's...aw, fuck it. Here it is.

I was perusing the old Craigslist the other day, as is my wont, and I came across this little number: http://www.backhandcards.com/. It's a "satirical" greeting card site that was looking for paid writers. I thought "This is a job for me" as I finished my last hit of crank, locked the child-sized prison behind the mudroom and slid the armoire back into place. Little did I know the horrors that awaited me.

I have never seen a site so adequately produced from a layout standpoint, with such a decent concept that has failed in so many almost horrifying ways.

In fact, I'd go as far as to say that the lack of humor in these "cards" is religiously profound. We're talking Biblical shit. Like, Moses stuff. It's like Christ surfed down from heaven on the backs of a bunch of dolphins with his Super-Soaker 9000 filled with retard urine, and he doused the shit out of the unlucky bastard who wound up making this website.

Here are a few of the "satirical" greeting cards:

This has got to be some avant-garde literary attempt at the internal monologue of a schizophrenic non-native-speaker. Right? Please let that be it. "Competition reasons"? "Zip-zip recording of the breast size"? And since when does a guy know one iota about shoe designers? This completely defies logic. Hell, it defies a lot of things. What the flying fuck does "Tug of War" have to do with...whatever the hell this has to do with?

Another one:

I just...I mean...are you reading this? Did you just read the thing I just read? It's like the language that my brain invents when I start to read something during a dream. And every time you read the thing in the dream, instead of getting clearer, it gets more and more convoluted, more and more elusively diabolical.

You absolutely cannot make this shit up. It's...I have no idea. All I can guess is that in somebody, somewhere's cracked psyche, "Drive-In" is a slang term for "vagina". But even then, even if that incredibly unlikely assumption were somehow correct, this still wouldn't make any logical sense. I just...I have no idea.

If "Back Hand Cards" were just poorly executed, then fine. I wouldn't really give a shit, and I'd move on with my rootless, nomadic internet existence. But it isn't just not funny. It goes way beyond not funny, making some sort of indecipherable comment about the sexes in such an obscure and unsatisfying way that it's like the writer has found a new, retarded use for language. In this day and age, I find that indispensable.