Friday, November 30, 2007

Yglesias, You Have Endorsed Correctly.

If tomorrow, Matt were to suddenly and permanently fill his Atlantic Monthly blog with indecipherable nonsense, such as "Peanut butter balloon animals fish tuba bundt cake!" (which would still be an incisive and effective parry to anything Marty Peretz ever says), it would not diminish the blog's value in any way, for now they carry these words:

At any rate, Bodo's Bagels in Charlottesville makes a better bagel than anything I ever had in DC, so as far as I know that's the closest good bagel to the nation's capital.
And that's some free-range truth!


Where Iraq is concerned, the Bush administration is terrified of having to set "a date certain" for the withdrawal of troops. In the first place, "a date certain?" Who talks like that? Is that from William Wordsworth or something? But, more importantly, in their mind, if they circle the calendar, the TERRORS and the QAEDAS and the ISLAMOVOLDEMORTS will circle theirs, too - but through this magical, dateless, goalless, arcane formula for doing whatever it is we're doing in Iraq, it will so befuddle the minds of our enemies that they'll somehow forget to do the thing they are currently doing anyway, which is biding their time and spending our money.

Oh, but when it comes to matters domestic, the administration is all about making deadlines! Via Wonkette, we learn that FEMA has decided to start tossing people from the poisoned trailers they set up for those displaced by Katrina.

FEMA officials said Wednesday that the agency planned to close all the trailer camps it runs for victims of the 2005 hurricanes by the end of May, including its biggest camp for evacuees, outside of Baton Rouge. Here in New Orleans, 926 families are living in smaller FEMA camps, some of which are supposed to close within days. The agency says its action is intended to hasten the move of residents from trailers to permanent housing, and officials said FEMA is committed to helping them find new housing before the parks close. Counselors will work with residents to track down available apartments.

“We’re with them every step of the way,” said Diane L. W. Perry, a spokeswoman for the agency here, who added that no one will be forced out of a trailer without a home in which to live.

Uhm, except one cannot simultaneously close down trailer camps by the end of May AND promise that "no one will be forced out of a trailer without a home in which to live," can one?

FEMA insists that setting dates is only being done so that the people affected can "make plans" and not become co-dependent on government handouts. And speaking of codependency...after all, that'll mean less tax dollars available for Nouri al-Maliki to cart off the next time his itching palm comes to town.

Iraq War Pessimism: Not Just For Democrats!

Oh noes! Look at who's trying to "pull the rug" out from under the Iraq war effort now! Republican Senators like Lindsay Graham and Saxby Chambliss, that's who! They've just returned from one of their holiday shopping trips to Mesopotamia, and they've returned, seemingly possessed of the belief that the Iraqis need to get cracking on "political progress." But I thought that the Surge was supposed to make that happen!

In what the AP calls "stern warnings," Graham and Chambliss have put Iraqi Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki in the hot seat. Did they vow to "[pull] political or financial support for his government?" No! But they vowed to "consider" doing so! Sometime in January, anyway. The holidays can be so busy, after all--that's something the Iraq government can understand.


O'Reilly Reports On "Major Victory" In The Non-Existent 'War' On Christmas

Have you heard about this "war" on Christmas? It seems to come earlier every year. In fact, the only thing that seems to come even earlier are the massive Christmas decorations that infest every retail establishment in the country once you get within a week of Halloween. Why, if it weren't for this "war" on Christmas, there's little doubt we'd have the halls decked and the gay apparel donned as early as May!

Naturally, wherever there is pointless, addlebrained demagoguery over idiotic, non-existent conflicts, you are sure to find Fox News' Bill O'Reilly--the millionaire celebrity field general in this "annual conniption fit."


I'm Just Going To Make You Guys Wear These Everywhere, You Know.

[Aside] I thought you told me that you didn't play the volleyball position that had the special uniform!

Thursday, November 29, 2007

Geeking Out At Home

Tonight I showed Wife of DCeiver one of those crazy, crazy-ass Ron Paul Blimp videos, knowing that I'd get a reaction of the scene where the Ron Paul Blimp was superimposed over a scene from the Lord of the Rings.

DCeiver: Can you believe that?

Wife of DCeiver: OMGs. That was so stupid, I can't believe it!

DCeiver: I know! The Ron Paul Campaign is flying to Hobbiton!

Wife of DCeiver: Actually, I believe that was Weathertop.


***In fairness. She later said she wasn't completely sure it was Weathertop. But I trust her track record.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Tonight! YouTubery Reigns At CNN.

This is how the pageantry of the presidential campaign works: a bunch of unemployed performance artists make YouTube clips, CNN sanitizes them, the Republicans try to answer to them in terms of how many Muslims they would torture or keep out of their Cabinet, and we liveblog the whole thing for...well--let's loosely call it "posterity." Join me, Rachel Sklar, Glynnis MacNichol, Phillip de Vellis, and John Neffinger over at the Huffington Post for the blow by blow of tonight's tilt.

Our New City Paper Overlords Make Troubling Decisions

As you know, the Washington City Paper will soon switch from being run by Chicagoans to being run by Atlantans. And it's not a good sign that the new folks seem to firing all the wrong people. Today, we were tipped by our pal PVo that the CP's devilishly faboo illustrator Rob "Atom Bomb Bikini" Ullman is getting the axe:

I suppose changes were inevitable, and the one I personally dreaded most has come to pass. As of the end of 2007, I'll no longer be illustrating Savage Love in the City Paper. I think it's more of a budget thing than a they-think-I-suck thing, but it's nevertheless devastating and depressing.
Ullman's got some great publications for sale on his site, so we'll be swapping out some of our preliminary gift-giving ideas for some of his wares. If you've got friends who like sex, boobs, sexy boobs, or childrens' stories that revolve around Wake Forest University's mascot, why not do the same?

DCeptette: Bought In Bulk Version

  1. Could someone please remind Agent Zero that, as an NBA all-star, he has every right to expect to be waist-deep in genitalia? [Deadspin]
  2. Not sure how $30/person for brunch qualifies as "cheap" (I'm looking at you, Creme!), but here are Gridskipper's favorite places to be drunk, dumb, and full of brunch. [Gridskipper]
  3. This article, which depicts the nimrod gentry at play in the fields of Costco, is sort of the journalistic equivalent of watching Monty Python's "Upper Class Twit of the Year" sketch. But you'd be surprised to discover just how many people are out there dining on Costco fare when they believe themselves to be sitting at overhyped area restaurants. Hey, people standing in line outside Pasta Mia! We're looking at you! [New York Times]
  4. Hey! Did you know that Duncan Hunter is still running for president? We didn't either!
  5. “Our therapist thinks we should get a divorce, but we can’t afford it.” Well...hie thee to East Orange, New Jersey! That's where the Wife and I passed a lawyer's office which boldly advertised, "Divorce, $399." Wife of DCeiver and I, of course, have no plans to divorce one another, but at those prices, we'd have been foolish to not consider it. Think of the savings! [Average Jane]

The ACC, the Big 10, and their so-called "challenge."

Deadspin makes timely note of the fact that the yearly ACC-Big 10 Challenge has been, historically, a leetle beet one-sided. The ACC has won all eight of these mini-tourneys, compiling a sick ass 51-28 record going into this year's competition.

Notably, the only Big 10 team that's posted a winning record in the context of the Challenge has been Michigan State, who've gone 4-3. Of course, they manage that only because they never got to finish their 2001 game against Virginia. For some reason, that game was held at the Richmond Coliseum instead of University Hall, and the game was called because of one of the most insane fuck-ups in the history of collegiate athletics. The Coliseum is one of those multipurpose arenas that, at the time, hosted both basketball (VCU played there before the Siegel Center was built) and hockey (it's the home ice for the minor league Richmond Renegades).

The Coliseum is supposed to be staffed by professionals, but on the night UVa matched up against the Spartans, something went horribly wrong. I don't know what is entailed when it comes time to put the basketball court down over top of the hockey rink, but that night, something about the ice caused massive condensation to form on the court. The results were absurdly comic and, ultimately, deadly dangerous, as the towel crew began to lose their battle keeping the court dry. Slowly, as the game wore on, players just started slipping around, and as the conditions grew more unavoidable, the gameplay took on this surreal quality, with athletes conditioned to play hard and push themselves suddenly needing to step gingerly and slowly to avoid crazy-ass injuries.

When the game was finally called in the second half, it was hard to not feel relieved for both teams - it really was starting to look like someone was going to get hurt badly. Naturally, Virginia had been on a 12-0 run and had taken the lead. Since then, Virginia's by and large used the Challenge as the premiere venue for demonstrating our mastery of the Powerhouse That Is Northwestern, which we did again two nights ago, winning by 42 points. That's one thing we do consistently well, anyway!

By the way, the ACC is currently up on the Big Ten, five games to one.

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Popping My UnfoggeDCon Cherry.

I hope that Becks will warmly greet the news that I, along with the WoD, am RSVPed for this year's UnfoggeDCon and am fully ready to greet the Unfoggeddon. If you enjoy blogs, upstanding citizens, the karaoke stylings of Kriston Capps, or, from what I've heard, unbridled social anarchy, the details are here. Here's hoping this will be one party even I can't ruin.

You Want Whoppers, Junior?

Cherkis, please...


"And there she is. Just staring at me, pushing football snacks as if the kitchen were her very own Frito-Lay showroom."

"There’s the wheel of smoked cheese, perspiring on its blue plate like an old man’s forehead in July."

"Up on the TV, the Redskins defense resembles a bunch of trapeze artists, flying all over FedExField, forcing Trent Green to toss bad balls."


"I always wished her one more season, maybe even one more Super Bowl victory."

"I can pour out a cup and try to forget it is Shiva ginger ale."

This has never been said before!

"Tradition has a funny way of sneaking up on you."

Trenchant game analysis:

"Especially if they were complaining about coach Marty Schottenheimer. She intuitively saw him as a grumpy field general who brought nothing to the team except boot-camp style practices and dull offensive schemes. Nana hated Marty Ball." [Sheesh--that figures!]

"It is 27-3 with 3:06 to go. The Skins are really executing out there." [ think?

And, typical reminders of his calculated contempt for common people:

"But I don’t have a TV."

"The folks at Union Jack’s in Bethesda have their own Redskins-watching traditions. I arrive late, right in the middle of halftime. When Nana and I talked Skins, we had our own language. Now I am surrounded by Cooley jerseys, and X-and-O heads half gone on $4 Bud Lights."

That's before we get to the fact that your whole conceit is stolen from Fever Pitch.

Here's the shorter version: My grandma drank too much ginger ale and died. Also some football happened. But I got a GREAT STORY!

How Many People From Your Social Network Does It Take To Screw In A Lightbulb?

I largely could give two tugs of a dead dog's lipstick about the Amazon Kindle, mainly because I have no need of an expensive gadget to help me do something I've been doing successfully on my own for decades. But like all things on the internet, we're somewhere between the backlash and the backlash to the backlash. That means the conversation's already stale beyond repair. But something in the internecine pissing between Robert Scoble (who doesn't like Kindle) and some gadgety site Crunchgear caught my eye.

Scoble complains:

No social network. Why don’t I have a list of all my friends who also have Kindles and let them see what I’m reading?
And CG responds:

Not everything needs to have a social network. It’s an e-book. Leave it at that. Seriously.
And, yeah. CG is absolutely 100% right. Not only does "not everything need to have a social network," but there is nothing intrinsic in the act of reading that a) requires an online social network, or b) can be improved by an online social network. If a book inspires you to stop reading and start social networking, then you are clearly reading a shitty book. If you see me buried in a book, here's a blanket assumption--chances are, I don't give a shit about the vagaries of your Facebook status or your hottness request. If Kindle purports to be a device that improves the reader experience, then it should eschew social networking utilities entirely.

And let's face it, is there anything more overrated than using the power of the interwebs to let your "friends" know what you happen to be reading? I mean, it can make for an entertaining curiosity, sure, but with all the Facebook apps currently available to let your friends know what books you're reading and what movies you are seeing, the information being conveyed hardly gets beyond the purely trivial. Case in point: I was excited to receive today in the mail a copy of The Omnivore's Dilemma, a book that came recommended by a friend - a friend who sold me on the book's merits during an hour-long face-to-face conversation. I promise you, there is no online social network that can provide that sort of value, where book recommendations are concerned.

Globalization And Its Discontents

If you haven't peeped today's New York Times article on where NYC's Con Ed manhole covers come from, do yourself a favor and learn the wholly disturbing truth for yourself. Don't just take my word for it when I say they are forged from molten metal in India by gaunt men who wear no shirts while working and who also labor in bare feet, because, surely, if I walked up to you on the street and told you this was the case, you'd be well within your rights to think I am talking utter lunacy. And you know what? In a way, the truth is utter lunacy.

"We were disturbed by the photos," said Michael S. Clendenin, director of media relations with Con Edison. "We take worker safety very seriously," he said.
Wow. I hate to see what aspects of their industry they treat frivolously!

The director of the Indian corporation that runs the foundry photographed by the Times has this to say about the matter: "We can’t maintain the luxury of Europe and the United States, with all the boots and all that."

Huh! I wonder what portion of our luxury is maintained only because these workers don't have any boots.

Monday, November 26, 2007

Colonics For Christ

Sunday's television was as brain-numbing as usual, but there was a bright and shining light nonetheless, in the form of this nutlog bit of local programming from this guy who believes the Lord has called on him to cleanse the colons of America. Did you know that Jesus has a special plan for your bowels? You do now!

The Audacity of Dopes: Ron Paul Supporters Promise To Terrorize The Skies With Scary, Scary Blimp

The Ron Paul campaign is gearing up to escalate its battle to destroy the U.S. Constitution in order to save it and to otherwise bugger our imaginations with rampaging insanity by taking the fight to the skies! Pictured, at right, is the Paulites latest atrocity: an artist's concept of what would be the Ron Paul Blimp! The Dread Zeppelin! La dirigible unintelligible! It will float from town to town, and, if the description the Paul supporter behind this idea is accurate, confuse the minds of men!


Thursday, November 22, 2007

No Writers Strike in the Blogosphere.

OMGs, y'all. The G's never been righter than she is in assaying this week's episode of SVU as one swiftly tilting planet of maximum fuckadoo. "We're going to Red Lobster!" is the new "It's not because I'm a lesbian, is it?" Really, why Tina Fey and the Upright Citizens Brigade aren't performing a live version of that SVU in Chelsea tonight is beyond me.

Any-hoo-way, this blog wants to say thank you to everyone out there who's spent the past year supplying us with friendship, employment, and inspirado. Slice of pumpkin pie to all you peoples. Enjoy the holiday!

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Southland Tales: The Verdict

Well, in the end, I had a great time at the movie. I'll be one of a handful of people that did, though (amid a handful of people who bothered to see it), and the reason is the movie is a mess. A gorgeous, often hilarious, deeply complicated, thrillingly cerebral, elegantly staged mess. But a fucking mess all the same. It has to work too hard to get the exposition over, and even then, without the aid of a bunch of outside source material, the full weight of the movie is going to be lost.

Without the Prelude Saga graphic novel, the movie might still make sense - but there are a few vitally important things that begin in the Prelude that don't get properly taken up at square one in the movie (and in at least two cases, inexplicably so). I'll go further: really, to fully grok all of the religio-philosophical underpinnings, you kind of need to see Donnie Darko, because Richard Kelly's formative ideas on fate and determinism and the cosmic forces at work in the universe and the extent to which mankind is knit up in all that jazz begin with that movie. And, frankly, to get the full tilt of it, you need to branch out a little and take in some measure of what's been written about Donnie Darko as well.

Of course, the typical movie consumer expects a certain economy in their movie-going experience. Good flicks are self-contained, observe certain unities, and don't require advanced study to fully appreciate. This isn't to say that a film can't take on added dimensions by resonating with outside source material - e.g. someone who's seen Sullivan's Travels is going to have a deeper appreciation of O Brother Where Art Thou - but that's not the same thing as being left at a total loss. So in all these ways, the movie is a disaster. Nevertheless, if you've read the Prelude Saga, seen Darko, spent some time reading up on Darko, and have a smidge of experience with Lynch or Burroughs or Ballard, you will probably find Southland Tales to be fucking brilliant. Moreso, apparently, if you've seen Kiss Me Deadly. But what a niche demographic of filmgoer!

At the very least, I can say this: Justin Timberlake+The Killers+lip synching+hallicinatory ballet should not work. But, oh my. It DOES. This is not up for debate, I'm afraid.

Friday, November 16, 2007

No Trump.

For the life of me, I cannot understand this flap over these bridge playing ladies who averred that they did not vote for President Bush. It's not like they held up a sign saying "Die, Bush, Die" or "Bush Doesn't Care About Moysian Fits." It's a simple statement of fact. I didn't vote for President Bush, either. I hardly think that's cause for opprobrium.

That said, I wouldn't advise people to go around telling others that they didn't vote for Bush as a matter of pride. Maybe that's the problem here. To be self-congratulatory about making that choice is like walking into a crowded room and announcing, "Attention everyone! I did not fish rancid ham out of the dumpster behind the Safeway and eat it! Where's my medal?"

The Audacity of Dopes: Lou Dobbs Could Make Audacity Even Dopier Than It Already Is

Oh, for crying in a bucket. As if the current state of presidential politics could afford, at this point, another teeming dose of thimblebrained inanity, we get the news that the Gandalf of News-Hole Dipshits, Lou Dobbs, might want to run for President. That's President of the United States. IN THE WORLD IN WHICH WE CURRENTLY LIVE.

Jesus wept. Listen to this horseshit:

The scenario, if you will: Michael Bloomberg gets in as a "favorite of East Coast elites," Hillary Clinton fails to win over voters who worry about her honesty and integrity, neither Rudy Giuliani nor any other GOP contender catches fire, and Dobbs jumps in as a "'fourth-party' candidate who could paint the three other contenders as completely out of touch."
I think it's safe to say that "the scenario" also includes rains of frogs, the cracking of the seven seals, me shooting myself in the forehead, and CTHULHU or something.

John Fund, the goddamned Tiresias who's foretelling this doom, is apparently skeptical because Dobbs has done little more than make "a name for himself 'picking a couple of hot-button issues that are easily demagogued.'" But how is that a cause for skepticism? Every GOP candidate has founded their campaign in the exact same way.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

Absolutely Amazing Video.

Wife of DCeiver, who's logged a lot of hours with autistic children, frequently reminds that the average autistic person isn't like the character from Rain Man. In fact, the population of what are termed "prodigious savants" only comes to about fifty people worldwide, and savantism is found in people who aren't autistic (though brain injury/condition with the CNS plays a role in all cases).

Nevertheless, the things prodigous savants can do is AMAZING. Want proof? Check out Steven Wiltshire. Click on the video, and watch. I promise you, at the 2:09 mark, you will say to yourself, out loud, "Holy shit!" So do not watch this anywhere where that would be considered gauche!

Tonight's Debate, Badly Liveblogged! WHAT? THERE'S A THIRD PART???

Prattling Dumbass: We constantly hear questions about the war and health care. But what about Supreme Court justices?

DODD: You want to have justices that are good and stuff. And schoolly. But I don't believe in litmus tests. Oh, wait, yes I do, on Roe v. Wade. I just want to get to know the justices. Take a road trip with them.


RICHARDSON: I will have diversity! But I will have four litmus tests.

KUCINICH: I will appoint healers. Magical healers!

CLINTON: Privacy is the new abortion, everyone! Spread the word! And vote for Biden, maybe.

OBAMA: I will not support anyone who doesn't believe in a woman's right to choose uhm...privacy. Is that the term we're using now?

EDWARDS: Yeah, yeah...privacy. I'm the son of a millworker, and if there's one thing that sons of millworkers know, it's millworking judges.

PRATTLING DUMBASS: How will you undivide the country?

OBAMA: I will convene the longest, most boring ass meeting ever convened, and this will beat all the partisans into submission. "Please stop," they'll cry and cry. But it won't stop. It won't EVER STOP! Not until they HUNGER for me.

CLINTON: I am running to be President of the entire country! ONE RING TO RULE THEM ALL! VOTE FRODO/LEGOLAS in 2008!

BIDEN: I will end the war. And the Republicans already totes heart me. I'm great and everyone agrees. THIS IS NOT GOING TO BE HARD. EVERYTHING WILL BE EASY.

RICHARDSON: I am the negotiator! Now, watch as I lose the support of the Israel lobby.


WOLF: Well, with that final dose of pure asininity, I think it's time we gave up on this. Join us for the GOP YouTube debate!

ME: At least there wasn't a "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas" joke. Bye!

Tonight's Debate, Badly Liveblogged! PART THE DEUX!

PRATTLING DUMBASS: Tell me how are you going to stop the war?

BIDEN: Don't ratchet up the winds! Keep quiet and hush up, Bush.

CLINTON: (who stands, which means everyone else is gonna fucking stand, now) You know that the Iranians are terrorists, kid! Please!

EDWARDS: (who stands) Have some platitudes, soulja boy! We must stop the neocons! (But won't that happen simply by voting for ANY Democrat? Oh...wait...Lieberman.) We must stop this President! (But won't he be stopped simply by his term limit?)

OBAMA: I will meet with our enemies! For a nice lunch. A tuna club or something. Fruit plate. Arugula.

PRATTLING DUMBASS: I think you're all about getting us out of Iraq...[ha ha: THEY'RE NOT]. What about private contractors in Iraq? And, HAPPY BIRTHDAY BILL RICHARDSON.

RICHARDSON: I'd pull out private contractors like a Catholic Schoolboy on Prom night. I will magically add people to the army even though we're plumb done run out of people. Maybe I'll train more dolphins or something. The big challenge is mental health. Which is why Mike Gravel really should be here.


EDWARDS: We are abusing the Patriot Act. I will stop the racial profiling and the spying. And the embarrassment. And the rendition and torture. This will definitely make all the movies better.

KUCINICH: Yeah, I am against the Patriot Act. Because I can read. And this guy is owed an apology. I do not have a bunch of different positions! Except with my hot wife. Seriously. We do this shin-sei shin-sei stuff on the kitchen counter that is just AMAZING.

BIDEN: I am going to speak to you in excruciatingly patronizing tones!

PRATTLING DUMBASS: Lou Dobbs is a wicked moron. CAN YOU STOP HIM?

RICHARDSON: Something about Congress, approval ratings, Dick Cheney, and HMOs. I think I'm actually hallucinating. I am against the fence. I am against demonizing immigrants. I am against immigrating demons. Mexico is our friend! We should be like: "Mexico, stop the crap, kthxbai!"

DODD: Damn. He speaks Spanish well!


OBAMA: We have to stop George Bush! [Term limits! Term limits!] I am buddies with Warren Buffet, and he says he'll pay more for Social Security. He's the only one, though. But it's a start!

CLINTON: My husband was a totes awesome President and Bush ruined it! But you can't vote for him, so vote for the next best thing. I think we can have blue ribbon panels. I have a lot of other ideas.

OBAMA: You are so like Mitt Romney or Rudy Giuliani! Wife of DCeiver: "oooh, SNAP!"

CLINTON: fighters and school supervisors...uhm...trying to find a thread here. Tip O'Neill had a good idea once! We will resurrect Tip O'Neill!

Wait...another break...MUCH MUCH MORE? How long is this goddamned debate going to be???

Tonight's Debate, Badly Liveblogged! INTERMISSION.

Oh, Jesus. Apparently, we are going to hear from "undecided voters" in the second half of this debate. That's bad news, because in my experience, "undecided voter" is an election-year synonym for "prattling dumbass." I can't believe this debate isn't over yet!

Tonight's Debate, Badly Liveblogged!

Cheers bitches! This will be your unofficial liveblog of tonight's debate, which for many of you will be experienced as something you read tomorrow that won't make a lick of goddamned sense. Surely you are watching 30 ROCK tonight...SURELY.

Anyway, after two weeks of MSNBC carrying the post-debate ball and finding nothing to talk about other than Hillary Clinton's gender, it's a palpable relief tonight that CNN will assume control and spend the next two weeks talking about Hillary Clinton's gender. Because these guys are morons. Lou Dobbs is blathering right now, blah blah blah. Dumbass. Anyway, we're about a minute away from the first "What happens in Vegas STAYS IN VEGAS!!" joke. Good luck, America! All your candidates are candied douchebags!

WOLF: This will be the first debate ever in Las Vegas! Coming one day: TWO STORY BUILDINGS! Dare to dream, Nevadans!

John Edwards needs help FROM A LADY to find his way on stage! Chris Dodd is all, "Yeah, I can find my own way!" He HATES the GRRLS! Barack's here, so Andrew Sullivan can break out the AstroGlide. I think Hillary's a little sauced tonight: "How arrrrr yerr, Wolf!" She's in the middle again! Like Alice from the Brady Bunch. The maid!

is with the sideline reporting? Get on with it! ER is on tonight! I think it's an EVENT.

Howard Dean just whispered something to Bill Richardson. Probably, "Don't worry, we have you for Veep, chico!"

That fifteen seconds of dead air, staring at Blitzer? Yeah. That saved seven minutes off my life.

No loud bells! No flashing lights! Wouldn't be appropriate in Vegas. Green is Universal!

Wolf will stop you from straying to the "tropics!"

Hillary. You suck. Everybody thinks so. What do you have to say about that?

A: My clothes won't burn! (God, start with me with a process question? SO ORIGINAL.) So here are my unoriginal answers: I have experience!

WOLF: Barack, care to pile on?

A: Oh, I think she's great! It's the American people that don't. I'm just here, delivering the message from the American people. I like Hillary! I'm like, "No, no, American people, listen to her." But they're all, "We want healthcare and stuff, rowr!" What's a genial guy like me to do?

Q: Hillary?

A: Yeah. I don't agree. And I don't tip, apparently.

Q: Barack?

A: Blah blah!

And, Hillary jumps back in, because she helps children. At a mention of the word, "Children" everyone applauds. Someone is yelling in the audience, because THIS IS BORING! What do the rest of the candidates get to do?

Q: Guys, guys, let me let Senator Edwards get in his licks!

A: This president has destroyed our trust. But we can't run against him, so I'll liken Clinton to Bush so I can feel like a crusader.

And now Hillary responds AGAIN. Jesus wept. Joe Biden looks like he's stuck at the kid's table at Thanksgiving.

Q: Senator Biden, what do you think of this great campaign storyline we're building here?

A: UHM THIS IS BULLSHIT. Christ, there are actual important things to talk about. And when he starts going, Wolf cuts him off, and Biden gets a little comedy in. Hilarious.

Q: John Edwards, aren't you a douche for suggesting that Hillary's a flip-flopper when you got flips and flops all over the place.

A: Unlike, say, this debate, people can grow, people can learn. But people can have choices! There are hungry people. People who need to eat backbones!

Q: Senator Dodd, WTF is up with John Edwards?

A: This debate is shrill! People go to work and sit around and worry! Stop yelling. STOP YELLING! STOP BEING SHRILL!

Q: Bill Richardson?

A: I will not start wars! I will quote John Lennon lyrics! Now, please God please can we actually have a debate. PLEASE!

Q: Will each of you support the eventual candidate?

A: Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, Kucinich, Yes, Yes.

Q: Obama, what's up with immigrants? Oh, look at me, Campbell Brown, setting you up to talk about drivers licenses! Oh, deary me!

A: I will throw lightning at employers! I am BLACK ZEUS! Get out of the shadows and prepare for my stiff penalties!

Q: Ooops! Ooops! You didn't rise to the bait! Driver's Licenses! Driver's Licenses!

A: Okay. Don't tell anyone, but I'm in favor of this. But don't make it MY wedge issue!

Q: Do you support it!

A: "I am not opposing that's what we do?" I thought this guy was clean and articulate! Barack got hoisted on Hillary's petard!

I have to tune this out for just a second. Seriously, these are all mealy-ass answers!


Q: Senator Dodd, what will you do to sell out the teachers' unions?

A: Dodd's answer is getting hosannas from Wife of DCeiver, which is recent enough to vote for him. "What GOVERNMENT job do you get merit pay?" she says. EXACTLY. If government service were paid on merit Capitol Hill would be full of beggars.

Q: Kucinich, what do you HATE about unions?

A: My dad was a truck driver! And I'm starting up a CONVOY. But I'm against drilling anything other than my hot wife, and the Teamsters sure as shit aren't invited to that.

RICHARDSON: I'm going to steal Dodd's "NCLB is a disaster!" line. Dodd seems okay with that. WE MUST STOP KILLING COLLEGE STUDENTS! KENT STATE! KENT STATE!

Q: Clinton, what do you think about teacher merit pay?

A: We need hot teachers for our hard areas! Let's get everybody a talk about it. A collegial collaboration. Whatever that means.

Q: Joe Biden?

A: My wife is awesome at teaching!

Q: Biden, Pakistan is STR8 BANANAZ. WTF?

A: I called Pervez before the President and told him to take his clothes off, or no aid! But I'm not in charge--SOOPER CRYZ. But no one else makes detailed plans like me! America: u can haz detaled planz!

Q: Bill Richardson, what about you? Will you disrobe Pakistan? DO YOU WANT THE TERRORISTS TO GET THE NUKEYOULAR WEAPONS?

A: We forgot our principles. Human rights are more important than national security. AND HE'S RIGHT!

Q: Edwards?

A: Pakistan is a living, breathing example of some sort of convoluted animal that I don't have time enough to explain. But I'm going to get rid of the nukes. WITH MAGIC.

Q: Obama?

A: I will tie our fates to other folks!

Q: Dodd?

A: I hope you find this ironic. Like rain on your wedding day. Also: what if Islamic jihad wins elections? Seriously, some of these countries would elect RON PAUL! That's danger!

Q: Hillary?

A: We are now in a bind! And not a sexy bind that say, me and Huma Abedin are rumored to be in. We totally aren't, but damn, let's face it: THAT WOULD BE HOT. In a small way, my all-female college prepared me to find that idea REALLY HOT."

Kucinich: Hello, hello?

Wolf: No, we're done with you.

Q: What about David Petraeus? Is he fill of glimmery shit, or what?

Richardson: Don't talk about Body Count. That Ice-T side project was not very talented and more or less rode on the controversy of that anti-police song.

Q: Kucinich, is the troop surge working?

A: The Democrats should not be giving Bush one thin dime to continue the War in Iraq. AND HE'S RIGHT!

Q: Obama, is the troop surge working?

A: Yes, but only because our troops are magical and awesome. But the Iraqis kind of suck at running a country. Haven't you noticed? "We're back to where we started in 2006!" Uhm...this shit didn't start in 2006, dipshit.

Q: Parents are rifling through toyboxes! The toys from China are killing us! Dennis Kucinich, can you save us?

A: Patriot act! Yucca mountain! These things suck! Also: China. They suck. OOOOH, SNAP! He went right at John Edwards and I KIND OF LIKED IT! Why doesn't Elizabeth Edwards run? She'd be so much better than John! I AM NOT BACKING DOWN FROM THAT.

Q: Hillary, was Ross Perot right?

Me: Jesus. WHAT A QUESTION. I CAN DIE NOW. Wolf Blitzer has asked the dumbest question of ALL TIME. This probably fulfilled some dark prophecy or something.

A: I am calling a trade timeout. I will challenge trade with instant replay. I will defeat NAFTA in this year's Superbowl

Q: Dodd?

A: We gots to expand markets. We should have stopped poisoned products from coming into the country. GEE...YA THINK?

Q: Obama?

A: I am against South Korea. [Me: Well...that's an interesting position...]

DODD: We will cut off the chickens!

Q: Obama, oil is getting all flirty. What are we going to do about nuclear waste?

A: I can put it in my backyard. Next to the shed or something.

Q: But what if we cannot make a technological advancement?

A: GOD, WOLF...SHUT UP! I say we CAN do these thing! Be optimistic. The glass is half full. HALF FULL OF DANGEROUS NUCLEAR WASTE.

RICHARDSON: The future is renewable! Green is Universal! I will turn Yucca Mountain into a secret laboratory, FILLED WITH BRAINS!

Q: Hillary, explain how it is that you are a girl. How does that work? Is it true you have to SIT DOWN TO PEE?


Q: What did you mean by "Boy's Club."

A: Campbell Brown...are you some sort of total fucking idiot?

ME: Yes. Yes she is.

Q: Do any of you boys want to respond to that?

Me: God. Please say no.

Edwards: I'm going to avoid the question with some crap about "corporate Democrats," as if I've never been involved in hedge funds.

Thank God. A Break. Wolf is getting chairs. I can't believe there's another HOUR OF THIS SHIT!

'Til The Shadows and the Light Were One

Despite the use of the term "disasterpiece," this review of Southland Tales (opening in two locations locally, both which mightily try my patience: Georgetown, Shirlington), on balance, resonates positively with me. Sounds like at the very least, the movie's overcome its Cannes drubbing. We'll have to see, of course.

That said, I'm unsure if this reviewer's premise, that Kelly is attempting to wreak some sort of personal reinvention by forcibly positioning the movie outside of the cult status achieved by Donnie Darko through some arcace, "base"-alienating process is a little wanting. If Kelly's that consumed with antipathy over achieving a "cult" success, it stands to reason that he'd never allow something as precious as AmRep's staged version of Darko to happen. (Disappointingly, it would appear that this strange and implausible idea is not likely to be Rorschach-bound because Randy is NOT a fan of Darko, which surprises me. It's totally up-the-alley of those apocalyptically-minded folks at Woolly, though.)

Besides, I've never thought that "cult" status is something that a filmmaker can engineer, let alone studiously avoid.

I'm also a little bit taken aback at the reviewer's preoccupation with Kelly's use of trash-culture as a means of setting the stage for his end-of-the-world fable. She maintains that Kelly is attempting to critic-proof the movie: " can’t say this film is 'bad', because it’s about being 'bad'––it's a cautionary tale about the inevitable endgame of tasteless, artless, 'alternative' culture." But the easier explanation is that most depictions of a dystopian future include riotous, wretched excess and cultural rot in extremis: think Blade Runner, or Idiocracy, or the comic Transmetropolitan.

That said, Kelly definitely doesn't keep all of this in the background. As this reviewer notes:

"Three Days", Perry Farrell's loving 11-minute ode to a heroin-fueled menage a trois, has here been re-purposed as a guidebook for the apocalypse. Kelly can only get away with this because Southland Tales is set in a world in which Perry Farrell-as-auteur doesn't exist, whilst all the while the Jane's Addiction frontman's post-Me Generation, corporate-sponsored hippie spirit, and the trash-goth aesthetics of his late-80/early-90s heyday, governs the realm of Kelly's critique.
In short, "For all that it attempts to say about the fix we're in, Southland Tales is ultimately built around the joke that prophesies can be foretold in the lyrics of Jane's Addiction." Ahh, but that's an inspired joke! In this world, where Perry Farrell does exist, the singer is only too happy to position his art as something prophetic and world-changing, as anyone who's ever suffered through an interview with him well knows! As the film's tagline says, the future is exactly as you imagined it.

Unfortunately, the bad sign is that without the backstory, one's imagination is going to end up being mightily taxed by this movie.

It's a film so rich with narrative detail that what seem like loglines for entire films are dropped carelessly as incidental set-up--something here about an election rigged via severed thumbs; something there about "soldiers reporting metal telepathy on the battlefield." There's a whole lot of plot about alternative energy begetting an alternative power structure, which involves a perpetual motion machine invented and controlled by a psychotic, vaguely European scientist ...This contraption, called Fluid Karma, produces an oil substitute that, when injected, literally doubles as a drug. I think. I imagine this might improve on repeat viewings, but Southland Tales is too narratively confused to make sense as a linear experience on the first go round.
That's problematic. Everything she's describing here gets a thorough going over in the "Prequel Saga" comic book, and I have to say, after reading it, my main worry was how all of this high-concept futureshock was going to get related to the moviegoing audience. Sounds to me like there's a lot that gets lost in translation. So, you better buy the book!

DC's Massive Loss is My Temporary, Miniscule Gain

This evening, I went down to the Longworth House Office Building to view a panel discussion sponsored by the Out of Iraq Caucus. I remember wondering, before it began, "How do they schedule such things when there's no ironclad certainty as to when the members might have to go vote?"

As it happens, that's what did happen. Yellow lights and ugly klaxon sounds signalled that a vote was taking place. And, fittingly, it was the Iraq Withdrawal Bill, which, if you are a member of the Out of Iraq Caucus, you sort of have to show up to. How did the panel continue without the voting members present? Easy! Eleanor Holmes Norton was in attendance, and she ably steered the discussion during her colleagues' absence. Thank God DC doesn't have a vote in Congress, I guess! That could have gotten awkward.

Anyway, don't let anyone tell you that Norton doesn't contribute to the greater good. She held it down. She did not yield!

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

DCeptette: Defiantly cruisey!

  1. Just what we needed: another restaurant serving shrimp-n-grits at ridiculous haute cuisine prices. [DCist]
  2. "Forces of nature don't have testicles." [Deadspin]
  3. It's a classic comic/cartoon trope: the good guys and the bad guys team up to fight the WORSE guys. Fittingly, the internet legions of Ron Paul supporters fill in as the WORSE guys in the greatest political blog team up since the guys from Bloggingheads combined the edge-of-your-seat thrill of battling policy wonks with the radical frisson of Vietnam War hostage movies. Really, the only thing that could top this would be for Cosmo to run a list of sex tips jointly proffered by Jessica Cutler and Robert Steinbuch. [Wonkette]
  4. Stand up and take back your bathroom stalls for their intended purpose, DC! [Gridskipper]
  5. You will read few things more wonderful today than John Scalzi's description of his visit to the Creation Museum. [Whatever]


The Riveting Inanity of WaPo's 'Crack' Flap.

Forgive us, but we are frankly gobsmacked by the way the Washington Post's classical music critic, Tim Page, is getting railroaded for this email he sent that complained, in part, "Must we hear about it every time this Crack Addict attempts to rehabilitate himself with some new — and typically half-witted — political grandstanding?" Further, we're at a total loss as to why Channel 9's Bruce Johnson found this newsworthy.

Page has been placed on some sort of disciplinary leave by Executive Editor Len Downie. And that's just ridiculous. Not being allowed to refer to Marion Barry as a "crack addict" is like not being allowed to refer to the period of time between 6am and 10am as "the morning." Let's face it: if Family Feud posed a survey questions to one hundred average Americans, "What is the first word that pops into your head when you hear the name "Marion Barry," the number one answer would be "crack." The number two answer would be "Bitch set me up." The number five answer would probably be "gasification." And the number three, four, and six through seventeen would also be "crack." The number eighteen answer would be "Shepilov" because you just know there'd be that one guy who wants to sound clever, like he's some sort of deep-ass Marion Barry expert or something.

So there's just no justice for Page, save the fact that, according to Fishbowl, area media types agree that the punishment he's been handed is "too harsh." Barry's people apparently want Page to be fired--and the Post's response should be a succinct, "Shut up, crackhead." Anyway, here's hoping that the next email Bruce Johnson gets refers to Len Downie as a "pointless little pinheaded scold."

THE AUDACITY OF DOPES: Please Stop Hurting America, Chris Matthews.

OMG. I know it's too much to ask for Chris Matthews to stop talking about Hillary Clinton's debate performance from like, A YEAR AGO, and the many ways she "plays" something called "the gender card"--as if Edwards wasn't out there playing the "Son of a Mill Worker Card" and Giuliani wasn't out there playing the "9/11! Everybody run! Card." After all, prattling on and on is what Matthews does best. But for the love of all that is holy, can Matthews PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LET ME GET WHAT I WANT THIS TIME? And by that, I mean a merciful end to the constant referencing of the 1965 film Cat Ballou?

You simply have NO idea how often Matthews mentions this goddamned movie. It's like, the only cultural referent he has at his disposal. And the galling thing is, every time he mentions the movie, he acts like he's making this trenchant connection for the first time with this smug smile that he thinks is telling the world, "Clearly, I think that I am some sort of magical genius of unparalleled super-wonderment!"--when the message it really sends is that someone needs to update his fucking Netflix queue!

What will it take? I'll give Matthews ten dollars right!...if he just agrees to stop mentioning Cat Ballou for the rest of the calendar year. Hand to God I will!

Chris, please: SEE ANOTHER MOVIE. Why not check out 30 Days of Night? It's got vampires! I'm guessing you like vampires, right? Seeing as how deft you are at sucking the life out of our discourse and making people feel undead!

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Oh, noes! Fox News can no has cheezburger!

Sometime ago, Paul H. and I were talking about Rupert Murdoch's tendency to keep his media offerings cheap, no doubt so that he can keep a pile of cash around to buy stuff like the Wall Street Journal and the souls of aborted Chinese babies. A prime exhibit is MySpace, and Paul has got a sense of the operating infrastructure of that enterprise fairly nailed, so I'll invite him to share his take in the comments.

Another place Rupert saves a share of coin is on the tatty-ass Fox News website, which is arguably the worst-in-class when compared to similar offerings from CNN and MSNBC. A fine example of their site's overarching cheapness can be seen in the photo they always run in the feature editorial well. Browse on out, on any given day, and tell me that their feature photo doesn't look like it was constructed using a LOLCat generator.

Over the course of the year, some of the LOLFoxes are more memorable than others. However, this one, from two or so weeks ago, may be the best one Fox has ever run:

So, cheap. But so, so inspired!

George Allen's Hidden Football Metaphor

Last week, Time Magazine began the arduous process of ending our collective reign as the Time Magazine Person of the Year. It's been a great ride, full of esoteric bullshit and jokes that you could use only once without seeming entirely fatuous about it, but our time--and by that I mean "your" time--is coming to an end.

To make this a reality, Time hosted a panel of luminaries to put forth possible nominees for the 2007 Person of the Year Award, and for reasons nigh upon inexplicable, former Virginia Senator and celebrated turd George Allen was on this panel. The only reason I can fathom that anyone at Time would want him there is for the radical frisson of having someone who had been fully eaten alive by "You" and "Your" "Tubes" in the previous year in person. A sort of passing of the buffoon baton, as it were.

To his credit, Allen behaved himself. He didn't ride in on a pretend horse like a pretend cowboy. He didn't leave any decapitated animal heads in anyone's mailbox. And he somehow managed to avoid insulting any of the minorities who were in attendance.

Also, he didn't select any of the people one might expect for Person of the Year, given his proclivities. We fully anticipated that Allen would nominate one or more of the following:

  • Football
  • End zone
  • Intentional Grounding
  • Huddle
  • Footballs
  • Touchdown!
Instead, Allen nominated General David Petraeus. Which is totes fitting! After all, he's the guy who helps President Bush move the goalposts!

Thursday, November 08, 2007

DCeptette: Turndown at the Lie-Barry

  1. The blogger at Lost City does a magnificent job chronicling the demise of the real New York City under the boot of development, and, as you might expect from a city that's slowly succumbing to massive, hedge-fund douchery, the news is typically bad. Happily though, he's got news of a development project that might be a blend of old-school cool and twenty-first century mash-up: "A low-rise hotel with a bonafied library in the basement and secret passageways to a former speakeasy. It's literary and liquored up!" [Lost City]
  2. Brace yourselves: "An AU Alum's Guide to Tenleytown and Environs." [Gridskipper]
  3. I learn something new every day: "Hockey, of course, represents a dystopian vision of Canadian global hegemony..." Uhm...okay! All the same, could somebody please explain "icing" to me? [Yglz, on FreeDarko]
  4. Apparently, we were never promised a rose garden. Just taxi meters. [DCist]
  5. We support the WGA! [United Hollywood]

Laura Sessions Stepp, Ever So Briefly

Another day, another excellent takedown of Laura Sessions Stepp from Rusty. I have only one minor quibble with his reasoning:

"Let this be a warning to writers! If you use Laura Sessions Stepp as a way to advance some theory or observation you have, then your theory or observation is hopelessly wrong."
I would posit that this is not true in the case of advancing the theory or observation that there are some absurd dolts who get paid entirely too much coin to write complete balderdash.

Like I said: a minor quibble.

Gift Ideas For My Supreme Clientele.

I know you'll be looking for the perfect gift for me this year. Won't you? No? Well, I can hardly blame you. But regardless, if you are looking to get something for anyone this year, I can offer you two firm recommendations.

This advent calendar is a festive piece of old country charm, sold by the lovely people of Hanover, Germany. It's a place where tradition and history still mean something. So much so, that they've depicted one of their town's most notable figures from history: 1920s serial killer Fritz Haarmann, who offed 24 people. As Consumerist relates, he's "one of 24 famous people from Hanover who appear on the calendar." That's him, in the circle, with the cleaver, stalking the frolicsome hockey players. But get it quickly! The limited run of 20,000 calendars is selling briskly, and they won't be bringing Haarmann back next year.

Of course, the reason for the season is teh birf of Jesus, who before his posthumous desecration at the hands of people -- like Pat Robertson -- who trade on His name to sell indulgences to plutocratic cunts and provide political cover for bigoted stooges, was well known for his exploits in the Holy Land, spitting freestyle wisdom, supermanning a few moneylenders, rolling with fine bitches and crew twelve deep, and more or less keeping the weak-ass punks of His age in check. Circa 2007, there's probably no one on the Earth who embodies these winning traits more than two-time 30 Rock guest Ghostface Killah, which is why the recently released Ghostface Killah doll - which features "14 karat gold jewelry, a velvet robe, and an electronic chip inside of it featuring six original Pretty Toney catchphrases (recorded by the man himself!)" - is such an awesome gift idea. It's the perfect gift for kids, as it will serve as a steadfast symbol of strong, Christian values, like not growing up to be the fool who recorded "Laffy Taffy."

Joy to the world!

This Day in Aventiana

The pictures to the left (which are rendered better here) depict in spatial terms the amount of space occupied by the same number of commuters first in their cars, then using public transportation, and finally, riding bikes. Pretty interesting!

Thing being firmly up his alley, I'd be very surprised if urban guru Ryan Avent hasn't seen these yet. Actually, that's an understatement. If these pictures do not form the cover image of Ryan's forthcoming spoken-word CD...that'll surprise me.

Titled Cram It Trudy...I'm an Economist!, that CD is slated for a February '08 release on Secretly Canadian, and will feature Travis Morrison backing Ryan up on the Farfisa.

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

Facebooking Your Keytar

Following up with last week's post on Facebook ground rules, Michael Dove went digging and found that there are at least three keytar-related Facebook groups for Kriston and I to join.

Keytar For Freedom: Centered in Colorado, this group boasts 92 members, and apparently is listed as a "Common Interest--Politics" group. Apparently, playing the keytar is not just a's a DUTY! The most recent posting is from someone who just bought a working keytar for $3 from a thrift store in Mississippi, which, funnily enough, is exactly the way I imagined most people obtain their keytars.

Bring Back The Keytar: The description of this group reads: "Man on a will come back...and it WILL be cooler than ever before," and 79 other people have taken up this rallying cry. Here, someone has done the THINKABLE, and shopped up a "KEYTAR HERO" box cover. Which I'd totally buy if it existed.

Get Rosco A Keytar: This group, administered by four kids from the awesomely named Methacton High School, was set up in order to rally the Facebook community behind "getting" "Rosco" a "keytar." We have news! Apparently, the goal has been achieved! They will now move on to Phase Two of the plan: Getting Rosco Laid.

This all begs the question that we may or may not have asked at one point in the past but anyway, have totally forgotten about if we did and we're just going to ask it again, anyway: Who in the history of Rock is the sine qua non of keytar players? Leave your answers in the comments, or staple them to your head and walk around neighborhoods where you know I might be.

The Future Is Just How You Imagined It.

I believe in being thorough, so one of the things I did this weekend was procure myself a copy of Southland Tales: The Prelude Saga so that I could be up to speed when the movie comes out this weekend (I think). I anticipate that I'll enjoy this movie, that most people will hate it, and that perhaps the only person I'll be able to convince to go with me to see it is Tommy.

That said: Okay. Wow. This Prelude Saga, I'm not sure I entirely get it. I mean...I think I have a handle on everything that went down, but the graphic novel is such a Talmudic compendium of mindfuckery that it's anybody's guess. Someone on the Wikipedia went to enormous, and, I gather, totally unappreciated lengths to summarize the plot of the first third of the Prelude Saga, and, based upon their recap, I was following the story just fine.

Similar summaries of the second and third parts of the book have not been attempted, and that's too bad, because that's where things start getting fairly freak-a-dee very quickly. Basically, you find out that the script Sarah Michelle Gellar's character has sort of scammed the amnesiac actor played by The Rock into producing is the product of a wacked-out experiment that began with a plane flying through some vortex of high weirdness and ended with Gellar under hypnosis, revealing how the world is going to end in the form of this screenplay. Seann William Scott plays two characters, which, if the history of film is any guide, may be two too many for him. There's this shit called "Liquid Karma" that's been mined from a heretofore undiscovered vein from deep in the Earth that people inject and start tripping balls. Amy Poehler, Cheri Oteri and the dude who played Avon Barksdale on The Wire are a group of Marxist rebels who apparently spun off from the Groundlings (which is exactly how I imagine this WGA strike is going to end, when you think about it). There's some stuff about evolution, or at least about not making bowel movements, and eventually, questions that are sorta raised by Justin Timberlake are sorta answered by Kevin Smith. And that last sentence alone proves that several barrels of weed were consumed in pre-production.

Basically, this movie is going to either make Richard Kelly's career or it's going to end it. And I've done you a disservice right away by only using the phrase "tripping balls" once in the above summation. Really, I could have just written "tripping balls" four-hundred times and you'd be just as prepared as I am to see this movie.

Friday, November 02, 2007

Glaring Omissions: The World's Most Ridiculous Sports Team Names

Here, you'll find's accounting of the most ridiculous team names in the world of sports. By and large, a thorough accounting, one in which I learned many new things. But, as much as I dislike being a nag, I feel they've made a terrible mistake. And this isn't a close call, or a name that needs for you to be in the right frame of mind or correct dosage of pharmaceuticals to fully appreciate. No, it's pretty obvious. So much so, that I only grew more convinced through the article that this team would be accorded high honors of ridiculousness.

The team I am referring to is from the late and lamented Women's United Soccer Association: The Bay Area CyberRays. Easily the most asinine name for a sports team ever devised. The case is strong on the merits:

  • CyberRay? Really?
  • It's a compound word with an intermediate capital letter - a clear sign of the edgeless, attempting to introduce "edge."
  • Because what you most fear in a sports opponent is the extent to which they remind you of the internet.
  • Because it's just sad to be out there, using the word "cyber" a decade after people stopped using it, because it sounded fucking twee.
  • What is it about the internet made you think of a ray? The way it stings?
  • The name was changed from "Bay Area CyberRays" to the "San Jose CyberRays," which is just sad.
  • The team colors were purple and orange. You know...just like a CyberRay!
  • Seriously. What the fuck is a CyberRay?!

That said, despite their asinine name, the Bay Area CyberRays did win the Founders' Cup in the inaugural season of the WUSA. Still, I say: worst sports name EVER.

Ground Zero's Just Not A Deep Enough Hole For Some.

Richard Cohen once famously claimed to be funnier than Stephen Colbert. In a recent column, however, it's clear that he's mistaken being "funny" with simply being "less serious."

For the tacky rhetorical feint he used to cheapen his discourse, hie thee here. I'd draw your attention to the final sentence of his third paragraph:

Whatever you may feel about the war in Iraq, no one gets to kill Americans with impunity.
Oh, dear. Well, seeing as Iraq had nothing to do with the September 11th attacks, I'd say that the mere existence of the war in Iraq has only served to demonstrate that one can, in fact, get to kill Americans with impunity.

Proof of Content, 11/2/07

The Spitzer Specter May Haunt More Than Clinton

Candidates for Top Washington Times Position Share Bitter Past

BeckWatch: One Cartoon Defames Another

Things We Lost in the Debate

With all the talk about how Hillary Clinton's bungling of teh Spitzerz has put her campaign in damage control mode, here's the lost question: can an argument for Spitzer's plan be made on the merits? As it turns out, yes. And not by fools, neither. 9-11 Commissioner Slade Gorton is in favor of it. So is former NYPD Commish William Bratton. And, perhaps most eloquently, by former counterterrorism czar Richard Clarke.

Minutes before we queued up for some lunch this afternoon, Matty mused something to the effect that, hey, if you wanted to be able to round up and deport a bunch of illegal aliens en masse, surely convincing said aliens to come to a government facility and put their information on the record would be a good way to affect it. And, heck, he's absolutely right.

Naturally, if that were the darker purpose of Spitzer's plan, disclosing that in order to sell the driver's license idea would tend to limit its efficacy.

Red Wine, Success!

Okay: Everything went according to plan, today.

New laptop is arrived. With bigger screen! But that means longer laptop. And that means it almost didn't fit in my courier bag. But in the end, it did. I just won't be able to carry as much in it. This, however, can be seen as a good thing: I carry way too much shit in it now. Really, am I going to read three back issues of The Believer on my fifteen minute commute?

Discs to fix the desktop have arrived. Now just ginning up the mental fortitude to spend another few hours on the phone with Dell technical support.

Wife of DCeiver has been accepted into UVa's initial licensure program. Thanks to some or all of the Governess' childhood friends!

IRS to DCeiver: "Our bad." Hey, it happens. I told y'all to chill and I'd figure out what went wrong. Really, it's my bad: I forgot to attach a form.

The person I wanted to fill my old position filled my old position. So, congrats to Kristen! I think you took on an air of Hillaryesque inevitability when we moved you into my old office. And when they didn't ask you about Spitzer's drivers' license program.

So, in short, today was great. And tomorrow: Work-related field trip!

Thursday, November 01, 2007

Proof of Content.

When I'm not here, you can find me here, blogging like it's my job or something. Update yr bookmarks accordingly.

DCeptette: Incarnate memories prevail.

  1. I think it's awesome that Russia's version of FEMA is called the Ministry of Extraordinary Situations. Could you imagine being the actual Minister of Extraordinary Situations? That would be awesome. You'd probably get to have super powers and shit. Still, it'd be really bush league to lord it over the good people at the Ministry of Ordinary Situations. They work hard, too. [Grammar.Police]
  2. Paul Waldman: absolutely right on Tim Russert. [TAP]
  3. Want to see what waterboarding looks like? Surprise: it's not the pleasant "dunk in the water" Dick Cheney would have you believe it is. Still, I'd love to see Giuliani subjected to it. [New York Daily News]
  4. Gosh. This is probably the single most pointless and superfluous piece of political criticism I've read this year. Didn't have much to say about the world this Halloween, did you? [Metroblogs]
  5. Ahh, secret societies. UVa was chock-a-block with them, each more bewildering than the last. Here's a fundamental tip, though: when naming your secret society, try not to introduce yourself as being "...of Bailey's Crossroads." Sorta kills the mystique. [Wonkette]

Now That We Are Facebook Friends, Let's Establish a Few Ground Rules.

Oh hai. As you well know, I have been to the Facebooks, and I have largely enjoyed the experience. It's rather nice to be connected to all of you in some way, whether it's merely to keep abreast of your status and/or struggles to correctly use the third person singular of the verb "to be" or to pester you with questions as to whether or not I should seek professional help and/or self-medication to alleviate a burgeoning crush on Anne Kornblut. In all these ways and more, Facebook has been rewarding. Yet, I feel that before we go any further, we need to establish a few ground rules.

1. Don't expect too much from this relationship.
It's best not to go into this with a lot of high expectations. Yes, it's lovely to keep in touch, but I don't want to lead you on. For many of you, our contact will be sporadic because of time constraints. Expect me to be run hot and cold on the conversating. I'm flighty, to begin with. But I am also prone to long periods of time where I just want to keep my own counsel, or am busy at work with a bunch of things that are sapping my gregariousness. Still, for many of you, this renewal of friendship on Facebook isn't going to result in me agreeing to help you move or pick you up at the airport. Deal with that, and keep the number of an area taxi service on hand.

2. You'd better think before you take that movie compatibility quiz.
Seriously. We've gotten along great so far, but the moment you start evincing a love for Broadcast News or any of the films from the Fast and the Furious franchise, you could be putting our relationship at risk. Maybe it's best, after all, to keep that shit to yourself, because on Facebook, none of you can escape the motherfucking truth.

3. Nothing personal, but I'm going to have to decline your offers to participate in pretend zombieism and/or lycanthropy.
A good rule: do you think I'd want to do this nonsense in real life? Probably not. There's just something so freshman dorm about it. If it makes you happy, then hell, do it. But don't get all bent out of shape when I take a pass.

4. Sure, go ahead. "Buy" me a "drink."
It's a lovely gesture. And look, we both know and accept the reason why you don't ever buy me any real life drinks: you're totally poor.

5. Don't be surprised if I don't join a lot of groups.
Yes. I am aware that there are a lot of opportunities to join groups on Facebook. And if you're Dan Ancona or Garance Franke-Ruta, there's a good chance that at some point in the very near future, you'll have succeeded in joining all of them. But I feel like I have to be really shrewd about what groups I join. It's like Kriston Capps and I were discussing: if I impulsively join something like "Virginia Tech is in the Wahoos Hearts Forever," what happens when I lose interest? If I leave the group, everyone in the damned world's going to get a message about it. And then I'll feel like a dick.

6. But we should totally start a group about our love for the rock keytar.
Now, that's a group Kriston and I would totally join.

7. What's with all the walls?
Really. I don't want to write on your Super wall or your Graffiti wall. I thought Facebook was about making connections. About staying in touch. About forging lasting bonds. If that's true, then why are we building all these walls? Walls can only divide us. Unless of course, at some point, Facebook mandates the need for a Ceiling, in which case I'll obviously need some Load-Bearing walls.

8. I'm sorry, but I cannot participate in the battle between Ninjas and Pirates.
And if you could recall the Ninja-Pirate War of '94, you'd know better than to ask. I saw the best men of my generation blown to pieces by cannon fire and eviscerated with their own throwing stars--to say nothing of the senseless slaughter that took place after one of the ninja leaders insisted we could walk on water because we were ninjas and he thought that meant we could do that. (The's totally not true!) Just the thought of it brings up terrible, traumatic memories for me. You wouldn't make light of such things if you'd seen what I've seen--if you've sat there, cradling a comrade in your arms, trying vainly to shove his guts back into the singed and bloody hole torn in his torso. They were all so young and so beautiful. And in the flicker of an instant, they were gone. Ou sont les ninjas d'antan? Ou sont?

9. Seriously: Twitter.
Must I?

10. Finally, look: enough with the Poking.
If you want to fuck, then, for Pete's sake, man up and just say so.