Jason takes the 'T' to the airport to pretend he's happy to see the unbalanced load we will soon come to know as "Timber." Jason's voice-over compares having a "girlfriend" to having a "mother," adding, much to my continued, eye-rolling horror, "I don't want my girlfriend around, because I've got to learn some things for myself." Like the part about not being an inveterate hypocrite swarthy bastard, for instance? Did that particular assignment make it onto the syllabus for the Jason Self-Actualization Seminar? Because you might want to consider employing the skills of an outside tutor trained in such matters if you have any realistic expectations of making it past the midterm. Bastard. Sadly for Jason, though, punishing karma comes along presently in the form of a clip of him publicly performing free-association spoken-word poetry, an artistic form I can barely even hear him indulge in, drowned out as it is by Alan Ginsberg spinning so fast in his grave that he actually comes ripping through the coffin, leaving an exact print of his body's silhouette, much in the style of Bugs Bunny jumping through a window and leaving a perfect outline replica of himself behind, ears and all. Even to recount the whole of Jason's homily on his fears of a future of domesticated, mini-van-driving, American style all-you-can-eat excess would be a disservice to those of us who collapsed in horror the first time we saw it and used up a boxing ring's worth of smelling salts to restore ourselves to consciousness. So instead I'll recount another spoken-word poem whose actual intent was to be as funny as this one turned out to be. And here it is: in the opening scene of the highly underrated Mike Myers comedy So I Married an Axe Murderer, his character takes the stage to perform a poem in his oft-chronicled "Woman, Woman, Woman" series. While a small jazz trio punctuates his every line with satirical Beat pretense (as is the case with Jason's verse), Myers looks at a slide projection photo of his last girlfriend and preaches the wise words:
Woman! Whoa, man. Whoooooooooa, man!
She was a thief, you gotta belief
She stole my heart and my cat
[Pathos-ridden stare. The snare does its snare thing it does so well]
Betty, Wilma, Josie and those Pussycats
They made me horny, Saturday morny
Girls of cartoons, leave me in ruins
I want to be Betty's Barney
[And then, spoken soulfully]
Jane? Would you get me offa this crazy thing...called love?