What We Do Is Calorie Conscious

Just saw Belinda Carlisle shilling Nutri-System on teevee. And, you know what, she looks fantastic, really. Still, it's times like this that I wonder what Darby Crash would be doing today.

The Coming Of The Killbots

It's taken a long while, but after numerous cogent arguments, I've become convinced that Matt Yglesias is absolutely right when he says we should be terrified, half to death, about robots. Even the Five-Diamond whorebots that Eliot Spitzer wants our nation's public schools to fashion for him, in his Pleasuredome. Also, electric can openers: JUST WHAT ARE THOSE MOTHERFUCKERS UP TO, ANYWAY.

So, with that in mind, this video - of a robot totally rebuilding itself after it's kicked to bits - is absolutely terrifying! It's like the inventors and promoters of robots are just conceding our inferiority up front! Watch, as this robot exhibits the implacable rage and the unstoppable will to survive that will be our undoing when the Machines finally rise.

Twitting On Top Of The World

Just how utopian is the Twitterverse? IT IS EXACTLY THIS UTOPIAN:

So, yesterday, The New York Times's David Pogue spoke at a conference in Vegas. "The topic was Web 2.0," he writes, "with all of its free-speech, global-collaboration ramifications." Pogue figured that "the best way to explain Twitter was to demonstrate it, live, on the big screen at the front of the ballroom." So he typed the following Twitter message to his followers: "I need a cure for hiccups... RIGHT NOW! Help?""I hit Enter,"

Pogue continues. "I told the audience that we would start getting replies in 15 seconds, but it didn't even take that long.

Oh, WHATEVER, David Pogue. You want to know another way to come by a cure for hiccups? HAVING A HISTORY OF ACTUAL HUMAN CONTACT.

If Pogue really wanted to test the utility of Twitter to crowdsource instantaneous solutions in Las Vegas, he should have Tweeted something like: "HOLY SHIT. I'm at the Mandalay Bay and my hooker's not breathing! What should I do?"

Anxiety! Anxiety!

Here's Against Me, with Tegan Quin, why not?

I Walk On Gilded Fringes

Videogum notes that this week's Fringe expanded the ever escalating number of "venues for former Wire cast alumnae" by featuring Gbenga Akinnagbe (aka Chris Partlow) as Pacey's hard-drive restoring friend. But, come on, playa! How you gonna sleep on the fact that the episode also featured Frank Sobotka? That's right, Chris Bauer was up in ur Fringe tubez as well, playing an ace computer programmer, naturally! Time was you watched your regularly scheduled programming for appearances from Oz alums (Fringe is still carrying that tradition, too, along with 30 Rock). We're still waiting for McNulty to get a good gig. (Punisher: War Zone? CHRIST.)

Another thing we wonder about Fringe: someone, please ponder the likelihood that there would ever be someone in the world named "Astrid Farnsworth."

Misty Water Colored Meme-ories

At the request of Amanda, I have agreed to answer the hard questions about the calendar year 2008.

4 favorite memories from 2008
Election night, all over Washington, DC, a party.
My tenth wedding Anniversary, and my plan to trick Delaware into thinking Wife of DCeiver was an out-of-town yarn entrepeneur. (I think I was a spice trader, in our scenario.)
Drinking on Hillary's dime in Denver with AMC, and successfully rationalizing our then current employment.
The night I met Megan Carpentier for the first time. Also in Denver. As you might imagine, it was pretty eventful.

4 favorite movies in 2008
Pineapple Express
Forgetting Sarah Marshall
The Dark Knight
And if we're counting television on DVD, and we are, The Wire

4 favorite foods in 2008
Rocky Mountain oysters
Mole at Polvo's
WoD's Christmas pancakes
The osso bucco from Catherine and Dmitri's wedding

4 places I loved in 2008
Washington, DC
Austin, Texas
Rehoboth, Delaware
Denver, Colorado

4 events I loved in 2008
The speech at Invesco Field
Netroots Nation
the Dream Sailors, at Rorschach
the Opening of the Beijing Olympics (on teevee, anyway)

4 things I liked in 2008
Crappy Hour, on Jezebel
The new HuffPo offices in Dupont Circle
Amy Poehler, on SNL
Liz Glover

4 things I am looking forward to in 2009
Maybe reading for fun again
Going out to see music again
That whole analog-to-digital conversion thing sounds like it could be exciting if we got really creative about it.
I don't know...surprise me, DC.

Who am I tagging? I don't know. Indentured servitude is un-Constitutional. Let's say Megan.

Time To Unleash The Dick Army!

I mean, Jesus. When your misogyny is such that it manages to cross the line with Chris fucking Matthews, holy shit: THAT IS SOME MISOGYNY. I guess what's similarly unbelievable is that you would turn to Dick Armey for thoughts on anything even remotely contemporary. I mean, how long has this jank-guzzler been out of power? Seems like a long time to me. Anyway, he's glad he's not married to Joan Walsh. Well, as any Family Guy fan would remind you, he's actually married to Vagina Coastguard.

Leafingtonian!

Kyle Leafblower, shown here cold chillin' at Thomas Circle, daring the city to deny him, is the subject of this week's Blogger Beat in Washingtonian. I have a pretty good feeling this is going to touch off a boomlet of really great bloggers being profiled by Washingtonian, I don't know!

For All Tomorrow's Inaugurals

I have these really great phantom coworkers who I call "phantom" because they live in New York City and I mostly interact with them over IM or on Facebook and such. They're great fun! And probably one of the simple joys of the Inaugural week was having the opportunity to work and spend some time together, even if the nicest place we ended up taking them, outside of our party at the Newseum, was Pasha Bistro. Anyway, it was really nice this week working with people who I'd met in NYC or in Austin or in Denver, and hosting them at the townhouse. And it was nice to meet new people, like the euphoniously named David Flumenbaum. Or Katie Saddlemire, who rocked a pretty punk as fuck ensemble for an inaugural ball. Or Katherine Goldstein, who finally provided me with an answer to a question that had nagged at me for some weeks, namely: "Does this scarf make me look womanly?" It did not, she said.

Anyway, I hope that when we all get together next year for Dick Cheney's war crimes tribunals that we have as much fun as our terrible purple tickets will allow. Except ha ha there probably won't be any war crimes tribunals.

Un Chien On The Loose

My God! It was just as the prophecy predicted! [Via.]

No Hope. No Agenda. And My Wasted Heart Will Hunt You Down, And Kill You.

I'm sure that I'm not the only person out there who saw the commercial for this new Liam Neeson movie and thought, "How nice. Someone finally made a sequel to Love, Actually."

It Was A Good Day

BREAKING: President Barack Obama made it through a whole day without allowing an attack on U.S. soil. I'm told by fans of the outgoing administration that this is some sort of extra-special goddamned accomplishment, so, someone please alert the Nobel Committee or some such thing. KTHXBAI.

Day One

Well, not everything went quite according to plan, as far as attending the Inauguration today. Despite this, real feeling of negativity never took root. The city was filled with ebullient people today, and hey, I'll share a special bond with several thousand people with Purple tickets that will last a lifetime. Plus, the bruises left by countless, implacable ambulances. Those will last, too.

Thanks to some maneuvering, I got set up in time to watch the swearing in with my co-workers Colin and Katherine, and we spent the rest of the day at the townhouse as other co-workers straggled in from all over the city. Everyone was a little bit achy and a little bit sleepy, but warm and happy all the same. Anyway, it was a good couple of days, from the ball at the Newseum to the beginning of a brand new Presidency to the evening at the office to finally putting up my feet tonight at home. And there were a lot of people who made it a special few days. So thanks, people.

Oh! And Dick Cheney? In a fucking wheelchair? Har!

Float On.

Here's Chesley Sullenberger, the former Air Force pilot who managed to pull off the first water landing in the history of aviation today after he safely ditched US Airways Flight 1549 in the Hudson River. Everyone survived, the guy is SUBWAY HERO 2009, and someone has already snatched up chesleysullenberger.com. (SubwayHero2009.com, still available.)

Anyway, you know who couldn't pull this off despite having five tries at it? John McCain! Ha, suck it old man!

"Both ends! Not gonna make it!"

Did 30 Rock just make a reference to the Pooping Intern Of Rockefeller Center? I have to tell you, I had a feeling they might, and have been quietly waiting for it all year. Also: Tina Fey danced, which is always funny.

Quicker. Picker. Upper.

Recent musings on the ubiquitous commercials for ShamWow! (and really, why does Bloggingheads even require those stupid headsets) inspired the Governess to ask, "WHO USES $20 WORTH OF PAPER TOWELS A MONTH? That's insane." Well, thinking on it, maybe I do? I've never really kept track but I think it's entirely plausible that I spend that much on paper towels. It seems like I'm buying them all the damn time, anyway. I think it has a lot to do with the fact that I perhaps overuse the paper towels while cleaning. Certainly, the fact that I have to contend with occasional cat vomit is a factor. We frequently use paper towels in lieu of napkins, which is maybe uncouth. Also, I kill and carve up hobos in my kitchen, which leaves quite the mess. I guess I'm just not sure that ShamWow! is capable of serving all of my needs.

Suckers.

Not long ago, we brought you news that MillerCoors had discontinued the manufacture of Sparks, a drink for "art-damaged, ambisexual urban poverty tourists" for whom no night out is complete without the assurance that they'd get that cool, refreshing taste of "jizz vapor" in their mouths. The end of Sparks was no doubt very sad for many people! But good news! According to BoingBoing, Lollyphile is now manufacturing absinthe lollipops! This means that DC residents will still be able to recognize area douchebags on sight, only now one can beat them repeatedly in the face without the risk of getting their awful spunkwash beverage spilled on you.

The Audacity Of Dopes: Bleah House

So, as it turns out, the special Presidential guest who's holed up in Blair House at the behest of President Bush, turning the city topsy-turvy in order to accomodate all of the attendant security concerns as the Obamas come to Washington is former Aussie prime minister and Coalition of the Willing fucktard John Howard, that Half-Wit Dick Cheney Doppelganger of the Coriolis Effect. Matt calls the news "a great sign of what a petty, stupid, immoral man George W. Bush is." I think it's an excellent bookend to that time Bush scared the ever-loving bejeezus out of Washington, DC by shooting off fireworks in the goddamned middle of the night because he was hanging out with Mexican President Vicente Fox and WHEEEEEE LOOKIT MEEEE! I GOTS FIREWORKSES!

Anyway, the only thing that adds to the surprise is that we've only just found out now that it's John Howard who's laying up in the cut, and not somebody remotely important. I guess what I'm trying to say is that George W. Bush was a man of many Classic Dick Moves, and it's now okay for everyone to totally ding dong ditch that rinky-dink Outback numbnuts.

Tango De la Tonto

The illustrious Megan Carpentier of Jezebel took on conservative marital-rape enthusiast Dennis Prager today on the radio, which makes me happy because the man makes me nauseous. Sadly, I must wait for the promised podcast, since I was unable to get on the live, hott, action. I'll let you know when it's available! In the meantime, Prager can take solace in the idea that his worldview, that one's spouse is little more than a succulent, compliant hole around which a bag of warm blood is kept circulating has been celebrated in dance!

Secrets of the DC Blogosphere, Revealed

Not too long ago, several of the area bloggers I read with regularity began fervently promoting the idea that pineapple juice was some sort of magical cure all that could fix anything that ails you. Not naming any names, but they all seemed to be lady bloggers, with an eye on their ladybusiness. Now, thanks to American Apparel pitchwoman/hipster sex twit Sasha Grey, we can divine the true intentions behind the pinapple juice boosterism: it's a well-regarded source of flavor supplementation where "gentlemen's relish" is concerned.



Naturally, Grey was probably next in line for the Surgeon General post.

These Thoughts Occur To Me, For Some Reason: A Continuing Series

A thought exercise: with the birth of Tripp Palin, how many more Palins do you imagine need to be born before, finally, they use the name "Butterstick?"

That's Good Enough For Me

The absence of the iconic World Trade Center skyscrapers still provokes musings and memories from all who gaze upon the Manhattan Skyline. And yet, this picture reminds us all of one thing that's often left unremembered about the Twin Towers - namely, how goddamn delicious they were. [Via.]

Programming Note

So, those of you wishing for a one-stop location for all my HuffPo content are advised that I'm now officially the curator of the Eat The Press space founded by my cheerful Canadian predecessor, Rachel Sklar. Click here, why not, and update your "bookmarks," if you are still doing that sort of thing! Naturally, the RSS still doesn't seem to allow you to specifically drop the ETP page into your reader - it's something I'll attempt to remedy. In the meanwhile, there are some smart people out there that might be able to fashion a workaround. If anyone comes up with something, feel free to let me know.

Everything That Happens Will Happen Today

So, 2009. I think that we're going to be okay. I mean, all hope of a mistake free year was lost on January 2nd, when I ruined a batch of potstickers I was cooking up, but you know what? As first fuckups of the year go, I've had some more brutal blunders, so, no complaints.

One thing's for sure, though, I'm at the point where if each day is nothing more than a 20th Anniversary Celebration of my own life, it's truly my fault. So, I'd better take it upon myself to make the next coupld of decades interesting, because all those freebies that life hands out sometimes deserve to go elsewhere. I've gotten my share.

Naturally, in about twenty years, I can simply lapse into my family's traditional maudlin and philsophical descent into endlessly kvetching about mortality. This blog should get a LOT less fun then, so, you'd best wring what you can from this experience while the going is good.

Alternatively, there's Don't Block The Box...With CORPSES

Catherine asks:

If you were to write a movie about assassins who use traffic would you call it deadlight, crush hour or pedeadstrian?

I like Pedeadstrian a lot, actually. Chances are, Hollywood would expand the first idea into something like, Red Light, Deadlight: In 3-D! or something. I think, though, the obvious winner would be No Turn On Dead. Or Washington Circle.

Congrats, Dave Weigel!

Via Spencer, I hear that Dave Weigel has landed a job at your Washington Independent, which is good news for the WINDY and good news for Dave. Dave is a really great person, so I am very glad for him. He has assured me that the tenuous alliance between liberals and libertarians can be expected to last several more hours or thereabouts, so that's good news. I can tell you that based upon the what came over his Twitter feed, there is no person on Earth who suffered greater hardships at the Republican National Convention in Saint Paul. Everytime he posted, it was about being late for something, or dodging assassination, or being roofied by wolves, or some such unreal episode of pain. He has served as the pincushion of grim political whimsy, my friend, and deserves your respect and affection.

Virtually Arlington

Arlington is said to be the most recession-proof place in America, which is I guess why they've launched a facsimile of themselves in Second Life, which I guess will be as overcondoed as the one in the first. I guess that's great, though I think you lose points on the "urban walkability" scale for encouraging this sort of shit from their residents. Anyway, here's the basics:

The Washington Post reports on quirkily meta Arlington County, which has established an office in Second Life. There you may go "in" and conduct various modes of business that you might with more difficulty, or at least more person-to-person contact, in Arlington County prime. Says one John Feather, who has volunteered his time to man the virtual Arlington County desk: "If we are at least here struggling with everyone else, that kind of says something about us."

Kriston notes that now, one can "Visit the Seat of Arlington County Without Ever Putting on Pants." For me, this won't represent any sort of change.

Slizzurp!

So, I'm told that Charles Barkley told police that he was in a hurry to get a blowjob when he was nabbed for drunk driving. I don't understand! Surely, if Charles Barkley had wanted a blowjob, he could have just picked up his phone and called Michael Wilbon.

The Last Day Of Chez Crappy

Today was the last day of Crappy Hour on Jezebel, a feature that I was privileged to partake in from time to time. For the big bowing out, Megan Carpentier put together a early morning chat with Moe Tkacik, Spencer Ackerman, Kay Steiger, Alex Pareene, and Ana Marie Cox. All folks with whom it is a real pleasure to spend any amount of time. Megan did a pretty heroic job editing our ravings into coherent form. It was hours ago, and I was drowsy, but I think they had to do with laudanum, and The Baffler, and Braniff Airlines, and Moe's expert use of the do-not-equals symbol. Anyway, it's sad to see Crappy Hour go, but, with any luck, it will sneak in to the economic stimulus package.