Science for Dummies

I'm a selfish person. I don't volunteer time or much money to charities. I don't like to recycle. I drive everywhere I go. I consume more than my share of material and energy, and I waste even more.

Basically, I'm like a lot of Americans.

Author Ayn Rand wrote about the virtues of selfishness — not self-interest at the expense of others, but merely a rational priority for one's own well-being. But while I'm not sure if Rand's philosophy is the best way to run a society, I'm completely perplexed by the current cynical, self-destructive debate over something in everyone's interest: The environment.

When the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change reported last month that it was 90 percent certain human activity has contributed to the rise in global temperatures, the scorn spewing from so-called conservative talk radio was both expected and befuddling.

Hundreds of scientists from 113 countries predicted the likelihood of hotter days, longer heat waves, the depletion of the polar ice caps, the rise in sea level and more intense tropical storms. Next month the IPCC will present a report predicting that in a few decades hundreds of millions of people won't have enough water, tens of millions will be flooded out of their homes and tropical diseases and starvation will spread.

Partisan apparatchicks like Rush Limbaugh and Sean Hannity mock these pronouncements as Chicken Little hysteria, choosing instead to parrot the denials of oil-company-sponsored scientists and the guy who wrote that book about dinosaurs coming back to terrorize people.

I'm not about to debate the science here. I suppose there's a chance that the most authoritative and independent body of scientists in the world have it all wrong. The Earth's temperature has always fluctuated. And even the IPCC admits there isn't likely much we can do to fix the problem any time soon. But does that mean we shouldn't try?

Those who attack environmentalists as tree-hugging hippies continue to tell complacent Americans what they want to hear. They show them the world as they already imagine it to be, singing poisonous lullabies while ignoring some perfectly convenient truths.

Pollution is bad. Doesn't it stand to reason that the industrial revolution and an exponential increase in world population might have some negative impact on the planet? You don't need to drive past too many refinery towers on the Turnpike to imagine how we've forever altered our world.

It might not make short-term business sense to curtail industry to stave off the pollution that contributes to global warming. It might be impossible to force India and China to limit their growing, voracious energy needs. But no economy can exist without healthy ecology. Everything we eat, the air we breathe, the trucks we fill and the televisions we watch — everything requires clean, thriving oceans, streams and forests.

Corporations live from quarter-to-quarter, worrying little about where they dump their chemical waste or how much they deplete shared resources. But only sustainable ecosystems can sustain an economy. Shouldn't this be a major tenet of true conservatism? Sure, some environmental groups take their agenda too far and give the whole endeavor a bad name. But does it make sense to stymie environmentalism for partisan or short-sighted business reasons?
A recent Fox News poll showed that 82 percent of people believe global warming exists, though a Gallup poll shows most people think the impact will be far in the future. Maybe a little hysteria can help motivate individuals and nations to act in their own interests.

There are plenty of potential disasters we face that defy almost any solution. If the buried super-volcano in Yosemite National Park erupts, it will end all life on the planet. So would a very common gamma ray burst that could send 1 million trillion times the energy of the sun directly toward us. And we will most certainly find ourselves in the path of a large asteroid or comet at some point. The Earth is already covered with the evidence of past, possibly extinction-level collisions.

But even if we can’t stop or slow global warming, we can take action to improve our odds -- and life across the globe.

I'll leave solutions to smarter people, though a cap on emissions and a carbon tax to stem oil consumption and spark clean fuel innovations could be a good start. If we can't stop global warming, we can certainly make our planet safer, cleaner and more efficient while ending our addiction to oil found in Middle Eastern countries that foment religious wars.

Selfish? That's the idea.

SexyDrownWatch

A Borat DVD Extra spoof of Baywatch, which is only slightly funnier than the original show.

Also, according to an uncited Wikipedia entry, David Hasselhoff can't swim.

A Great Pair (Hanes and Jennifer Love Hewitt, that is)

Jennifer Love Hewitt New Hanes Underwear Ad 2007 - Celebrity bloopers here

By TPerl

Bra commercials? - Good. Jennifer Love Hewitt's breasts? - Better.

Jennifer Love Hewitt's breasts in a bra commerical? Well, not since peanut butter and chocolate came together have we seen such a perfect match.

I'm not sure why this didn't happen much, much sooner - like the moment Hanes first started their celebrity "Look who we've got our Hanes on now" campaign - remember Jim Palmer in tighty-white-ies, anyone???.

We've come a long way from the day when live women weren't even allowed in bra commercials - they could only use mannequins up until maybe 10 or 15 years ago.

And for those of you who think I'm the only one with an unhealthy fascination with Jennifer Love Hewitt's breasts - How do you explain why Ghost Whisperer is still on the air?

The Dildo Diaries

I've been meaning to post this for weeks as a tribute to the great Molly Ivins. Better late than never.

'Friday Night Lights' Shines Too Bright?

By TPerl

Great review of 'Friday Night Lights' here.

She summarizes the problem of trying to sell this show to our moronic masses:

"The show appears to be about football, potentially turning off plenty of possible viewers who aren't into sports. ...On top of that, the show actually focuses on far heavier and more complicated subject matter -- parenting, adultery, alcoholism, racism -- potentially turning off viewers who are into football."

The only thing that isn't dead on about this review is that the author called Smash a receiver instead of a running back - although she did admit that she isn't a football fan.

All You Need is Loathe

Somehow I forgot to link to The Beast's list of the 50 Most Loathsome People in America. Far be it from me to miss an opportunity to mock Ann Coulter as a zombie-faced ostrich shitting out her books.

I'd Like to Thank the Academy for Giving Me a Reason to Gripe

This column might be deja vu for you if you read this blog around Oscar time last year. But how could I deprive the good people of Central New Jersey the benefit of my bitching.


It's Oscar time again, and only a grouch would grumble about it.

I don't much care about the outcome of Sunday's ceremony, but I've watched just about every Oscar telecast for the past 20 or so years. And as a self-designated arbiter of taste and a culture-war chicken hawk, when America watches something, I watch America.

America loves a good contest. And thanks to the Academy's spotty record in choosing which films to honor, we can always count on a good argument.

For starters, there's the perpetual snubbing of Alfred Hitchcock and Martin Scorsese. Not like these two deserved any sort of recognition for, I don't know, the best films of their generations. This year Scorsese's "The Departed" stands to score big — as much on its merits as some kind of lifetime achievement consolation prize.

Scorsese snubs include "Ordinary People" beating out his "Raging Bull" for Best Picture of 1980 and the 1990 travesty of "Dances With Wolves" beating out "Goodfellas." The Academy is notorious for conservative tastes that lag behind cutting-edge cinema. If you throw in "Taxi Driver," Scorsese might have made the best film in each of the last three decades without receiving a single gold trophy.

But Scorsese has company in the undeserved loser's circle. Don't even get me started on "Forrest Gump" trumping "Pulp Fiction" and "The Shawshank Redemption" in 1994.

OK. You got me started. Forrest Freakin' Gump? Granted, I liked this movie when I first saw it. It was exceptionally well crafted, and I was even able to get past some of Tom Hanks' acting ticks to be truly moved by his performance as a sweet, forthright man of limited intellect. But if there has ever been a more cloyingly crass attempt to manipulate an audience without an actual theme or purpose, then I haven't seen it.

Seriously. What are we supposed to take away from this film? Stupid is as stupid does? America has gone through some tough and interesting times? War and AIDS are bad? Life is like a box of simple-minded folk spouting inane drivel?

Anyway, Gump might not be the worst offender among high crimes and Oscar snubs.

In 1941, "How Green Was My Valley" beat out "Citizen Kane." Any guess which one has better stood the test of time? In 1979, "Kramer Vs. Kramer" beat out "Apocalypse Now" and an unnominated "Manhattan." In 1983, "Terms of Endearment" defeated "The Right Stuff."

In 1992, Al Pacino won Best Actor for "Scent of a Woman." After years of playing plausible, layered human beings, he takes home the trophy for portraying some absurd blind curmudgeon who yells jarhead jargon while braying like a syphilitic gorilla. Hoo-ha!

In 2001, Ron Howard won Best Director and Best Film for "A Beautiful Mind," rewarding him for criminally tricking the audience with slick misdirection unworthy of even the worst M. Night Shyamalan offenses.

And last year, the Academy crowned "Crash" for portraying — with some excellent performances and clever editing — America's continuing struggle with racism through crashingly obvious setups.

All right, all right. Maybe I do care. Because sometimes arguing about movies and their Oscar hype can be just as fun as watching them.

This is the Theme to Garry's Show

Ricky Gervais meets Garry Shandling (first of six parts on Youtube) and proves that staged awkwardness is comedy gold. I particularly enjoy the comments at the bottom by people who clearly don't understand this is an obvious set-up by two deadpan masters.

And here's a great piece from the Times catching up with Shandling before the release of a new Larry Sanders DVD set in April.

iHate

Why do I hate those dancing silhouettes so? Maybe not all of them. But certainly the hipster silhouettes. For they are the most hateful silhouettes of them all.

24 Reasons Joel Surnow is an Ass

This week's New Yorker has a great piece about torture on 24. Seems like our president and vice president think the show is a real-world documentary on how to fight international terrorism.

Personally, I think Mary Lynn Rajskub's performance is plenty enough torture for anyone.

Are You There God, It's Me, Internet

For a compelling discussion of religious faith between a gay Catholic and a rabid atheist, look no further than the brilliant blogalogue between Andrew Sullivan and Sam Harris.

It's been going on sporatically for a few weeks now, so it's lengthy. But I've never read a better attempt for reasonable people with differing views to seek common ground on such a volcanic topic. It's the kind of discussion more people should be having. And it's the kind of discusion so many are simply unwilling to even acknowledge might be worthwhile.

A Cinderella Story

By TPerl

Most of you without young 'uns probably missed this one, but I think it's worthy of my ever-expanding "WTF File". Let's examine:

- OK, another Disney straight-to-DVD video - I see the money-making potential.

- Hmmm, another sequel to a supposed "Disney Classic"? Well at this point, if they can make a Bambi 2, I guess they can make a sequel to anything.

But now this. The next Cinderella sequel - The tagline is "What If?" and the quick synopsis goes: "The evil stepmother conjures up a spell that reverses all of which the fairy godmother did."

So in other words, what if this classic story, the story that in itself is a metaphor, never happened? I think this is just taking things too far for the sake of a extra buck. It's some kind of fairy tale blasphemy, and I can't believe Disney went along with it.

But why stop now? Let's go even further - "What if...

...the Little Mermaid was really a mer-man underneath those fins, and he ain't little if you know what I mean?"

...Sleeping Beauty was a lesbian and would only wake up to some hot princess-on-princess action?"

...Peter Pan was really a 58-year-old pedophile with a rare genetic disorder?"

...Bambi's Mom wasn't really killed?...and it turns out she wasn't really planning on having a baby either...because she was a crackhead...and was raped by a coked-up moose...and when crack-baby half-moose Bambi came out, she stuffed him in a garbage bag and threw him in the stream...then sucked Thumper's dick for more crack money?"

OK. Sorry about that - watching the same Disney DVD 5 times a day for 6 months does things to a man.

Peyton Manning Dedicates Super Bowl to His Retarded Little Brother

Even better than Super Bowl hype: Cracked's Super Bowl ESPN parody.

Almost as funny as this classic from The Onion, trumpeting the long-promised return of the '85 Bears to the recording studio for a follow-up to "The Super Bowl Shuffle."

Best bit:

Gault went on to strongly deny rumors that the Crew was returning to the studio looking for trouble.

"We didn't come here looking for trouble," Gault said. "We just came to record the long-awaited follow-up to the 'Super Bowl Shuffle.'"

Bear Down, Chicago Cubs?

By Arielle

One week til Super Bowl Sunday, and I am totally torn.

As a displaced Chicagoan, it is probably my patriotic duty to root for Da Bears. Even though I've been coerced into being a Jets fan, I should still root for the home team. Right? But consider this:

1. Rex Grossman. In just one week and 10 hours of annoying hype and repetitive commericals, all of this guy's incompetence, interceptions and "not giving it 100 percent" could be washed away with a Super Bowl win. Is that possibly fair? Dumb luck hasn't hit anyone so undeserving since Paris Hilton was born into money.

2. Brian Urlacher makes me think of a member of the Hitler Youth. I know it's wrong to say this, but I can't help it. Dude needs some hair.

3. Tank Johnson. I'm no gun-safety expert, but it seems like if you've been arrested twice already, perhaps it'd be a good idea to get rid of your assault rifle collection. (On the other hand, since his bodyguard was killed the next day, maybe Tank was onto something.)

4. The NFC doesn't deserve a Super Bowl this year.

5. As a Cubs fan, I would be kind of sad to see the other major sports teams in town win championships while we're on the doorstep of 100 years.

On the other hand...

1. How could I root for Indianapolis, of all places, over my beloved Chicago? I mean, is it even possible?

2. How can you root against a guy named Lovie?

3. The Peyton Manning storyline has finally advanced ("guy who can't get to the Super Bowl" will become, at the very least, "guy who can't win the Super Bowl") so what's wrong with a few more years of it?

4. I do get a little choked up when I hear the Bears fight song. Come on, admit it's endearing: "We'll never forget the way you thrilled the nation/With your T formation...You're the pride and joy of Illinois." If not also mildly embarrassing. And let's not forget the Super Bowl Shuffle...

5. As much as I dislike the guy, I am sort of jealous of Tank Johnson's nickname. Admit it - there are few things cooler than getting the name Tank Johnson on the back of your uniform. I am hoping that someday people will nickname me "Tank" as well.

I can't believe I'm giving this much thought to a bunch of overweight guys running around in spandex pants.

I think I've decided to root for the Bears, but I just can't feel it. Head's in it, heart's not. Or maybe it's the way around. But either way, I'll leave it up to you, dear reader(s?), to please weigh in: who's my pick?

At this point, the only thing I know I'll be rooting for is for no Jessica Simpson commericals this year.

Old Man in the Clink

Check in on the 96-year-old inmate of the Middlesex County pokey. And then see if you can figure out where the network news get their stories.

Habeas Schmabeas

The Attorney General of the United States of America told a U.S. Senator at a Congressional hearing that the U.S. Constitution does not impart the right of habeas corpus to U.S. citizens.

That noise you are hearing is the theme music from "The Twighlight Zone."

Our president has worked tirelessly to increase the power of the executive at the expense of the other branches.

This is no secret. Cheney, ex- SecDef Rumsfeld and their legal advisors, like John Yoo, have openly stated their intention to return the presidency to what they see as its rightful place of power after its diminished status post-Watergate.

Bush has added 800 signing statements to laws passed by Congress modifying or basically stating his bald intention to ignore them (as opposed to about 500 statements written by every other president in our country's history). This includes the McCain ban on torture. Where is the check when the president can simply tag on an addendum saying, "Nah. Think I'll ignore this one"? He has the right to veto bills. But instead, he actively undermines one of the most vital checks on executive power.

Now don't get me wrong. I know we are fighting for our survival (which is a fight we seem unlikely to lose, considering the enemy simply wants to end civilization). I believe we need a strong executive. I support and admire law enforcement and military personnel who work tirelessly and risk their lives to protect me. I believe the men and women of our police, intelligence agencies and military forces are mostly of the highest character and with the best intentions.

But police and intelligence agents can sometimes be overly aggressive in their techniques. And sometimes, they get the wrong guy.

The core idea of creating a system of jurisprudence lies in the suffix "prudence." No free people should feel the need to simply trust their government to get it right all the time right from the outset. Governments are made of people. And people make mistakes. There are stops and checks to make sure innocent people don't rot away in dark cells (in this country, Cuba or Eastern Europe).

Personally, I don't much care if Kaleid Sheik Mohammad spends the rest of his miserable life in a 2-foot square box with needles in his eyes. But how can we be sure every "terror suspect" is in fact guilty? Our government has already released hundreds of terrorist suspects after years without due process or access to their families. All of a sudden they aren't dangerous? Does our president or his talk radio aparatchicks ever wonder what it might be like to have the wrong name, come from the wrong country, attend the wrong mosque or otherwise be completely and innocently screwed by circumstances?

Every year the U.S. State Department issues a report on human rights violations worldwide. In the report, we itemize the abuses of government in places like North Korea, China and Iran. We condemn them for their political imprisonments, torture tactics and lack of due process.

I'm not comparing our government to these regimes. But on the path we are following, by enshrining extreme and unnecessary terror-fighting tactics as law, there will be nothing to stop them from making those comparisons.

America should not look like this. Fear of terrorism is no excuse for abandoning the values that make this country better than all the others. I'm talking about real values, not the bullshit Republican wedge-issue values they float to win elections.

And to suggest we have to play dirty because the terrorists play dirty only concedes them the war. If we sell out our values and our rule of law, we'll have nothing left worth defending. Just some land and our fears.

Scrubs is The Shit

By Tperl

I've said it many times before - Scrubs is one of the funniest shows on TV. Tonight NBC will air the much anticipated musical episode. If you've ever seen the show, I'm sure you'll agree with me that this format actually makes perfect sense for the show's type of humor, and could potentially be one of the best Scrubs episdoes...EVER.

Anyway, if you're even the least bit curious, check out this sneak peek and see if it's for you.

King for a Day

I know it's a few days late, but I thought in honor of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., I'd link to some seldom-discussed tidbits about his plagiarism and ravenous sexual escapades. He was a great American, who accomplished great things for equality and tolerance in this country. He was also a complicated hypocrite.

I have a dirty dream today. Halelujah!

Large coffee, jelly donut, and last night's episode on DVD please.

By TPerl

I shit you not - the first 4 hours of "24" that JUST AIRED on Sunday and Monday is now available on DVD for the super low price of just $11.98 (or $9.99 on Amazon).

And wait! There's more! The DVD includes a "never-before-seen 12-minute preview of the next explosive episode".

"Never-before-seen"? I hate to state the obvious here, but it ain't seen yet 'cause it hasn't fucking aired yet.

And yet the Fox website proudly promotes "BE THE FIRST TO SEE 12 MINUTES OF EPISODE 5 BEFORE IT AIRS!"

Yeah, as long as you pay the extra 10 bucks for overnight shipping. And congrats on seeing 12 minutes on Sunday that we all can watch for free on Monday.

I'm not really sure why this bothers me so much, but I somehow feel like we've crossed the line into some weird new world where network executives and marketing departments have begun to take over the world. Perhaps we're just moments away from some kind of Terminator-like judgement day.

I think we need to send Jack Bauer back in time to kill this thing where it all started - I suspect that if Henry Winkler was assassinated just before he filmed that now-infamous shark-jumping episode, then humanity might just stand a chance.

There is no fate than what we make for ourselves.

It was an honor just being...a winner?

By TPerl

Now that the movie award season is upon us, I'm sure you've seen all the latest movie commercials, touting nominations for Golden Globes and perhaps even SAG awards.

I saw a recent commercial for "Dreamgirls" which made me shout a big "What the fuck?" at the TV screen. It went something like this: "Dreamgirls. Winner of 5 Golden Globe nominations, including..."

Wait - what was that?

"Winner"? Winner of what? Winner of a fucking NOMINATION? Winner of a chance to win?

The commercials for Borat are also doing it.

This follows another similar trend in movie advertising where a movie trailer or poster will now list "Academy Award nominee" under an actor's name.

What's Next?: "...Starring Tobey Maguire: Winner of the 2003 MTV Movie Award for Best Kiss"

If there was any justice in the world, any movie using these sketchy tactics should be forced to update their ads after the awards are given:

"Now playing - Dreamgirls. Loser of 4 Golden Globes and 3 Academy awards. With Academy Award loser Eddie Murphy. Critics exclaim: '2 stars!' 'Wait until this one comes out on DVD!'."


By the way, congratulate me, everyone. I just got a notice in the mail stating that I've won $5 million dollars! ...if any of the numbers on my entry form match the winning number to be drawn on March 16th.

But at least I won!

And you too may already be a winner!

Once More Unto the Breach, Dear Intolerant Friends, Once More

Now that the yule log has burned to ash and we can all slip off our gay apparel, it's high time to mobilize in anticipation of the next dire threat on our holiday horizon.

All Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Scientologists, Wiccans and miscellaneous true-believers (but not those despicable atheists) owe a national debt to Bill O'Reilly for his virtuous and brave defensive maneuvers in the great secular War on Christmas. Without his dogged, self-aggrandizing devotion, American Christians might have been forced to hear such hateful phrases as "Happy Holidays" or otherwise feel pressure to act with public consideration toward minority religions. Mission accomplished!

But as February looms around the corner and car dealerships everywhere ready to mount their bows of bunting, we as a nation must gird ourselves for the next great attack: The War on Washington's Birthday.

Perhaps you know it better as Presidents' Day. But that is what the secular-progressive Washington-hating advertisers want you to call it. Because while Washington's Birthday is the only presidential holiday recognized by our inerrant, God-fearing federal government, the pagans on Madison Avenue would rather cross-breed our first and 16th presidents in some orgy of home appliance and linen bargains.

Washington's nativity occurred on Feb. 22, 1732 of our Gregorian calendar, although he was actually born on Feb. 11, 1731 by the Julian calendar in use at the time. England eventually reformed this calendar, and Julian sounds like a girls' name anyway … hardly worthy of our
attention.

Under the 1968 Uniform Monday Holiday Act, Washington's birthday from 1971 onward was celebrated on the third Monday of February. The idea was to create more three-day holidays and introduce Columbus Day in October (I believe to honor the guy who would go on to direct Mrs. Doubtfire).

From what I've been able to glean from some devout Washingtonian Web sites, an insatiable cabal of New York advertisers then conspired to defile this new separation of the observed Washington holiday from his actual birthday by invoking Abraham Lincoln's Feb. 12 birthday and calling the whole thing Presidents' Day. Some even believe the day established to honor Washington, The Father of Our Country, stands for all U.S. Presidents. That's right. Even the Democrats!

Now, I'm not one to poke fun at James K. Polk. And as a Jew, I've often taken pride in sharing my last name with such mensches as presidents Benjamin and William Henry Harrison. But did any of them lead the Continental Army to victory in the Revolutionary War? Or pose for the currency that today we stuff into dancers' g-strings?

No, sir. Washington's Birthday is not a day to celebrate Lincoln or Ford or even Tampa Bay Buccaneers running back Cadillac Williams. And it's a day -- a birthday. Not a two-week clearance sale. There should be candles and cake and wooden teeth covered with frosting.

Many states celebrate Washington's Birthday and Lincoln's Birthday. Some celebrate only
Washington, and some celebrate neither. This year New Jersey will close state offices on Lincoln's Birthday and Presidents' Day (Feb. 19), but not Washington's actual birthday.

Poppycock! We only have about 40 shopping days until Washington's 275th birthday bash (I propose calling the day which precedes it, Washmas Eve). So while you're buying your discounted cappuccino machine, think about what that great man accomplished at Valley Forge and on the Hudson River. And what it would be like today if we spoke all British-like and ate lumpy food.

The Great White North

Cyber Neil Peart

And while we're at it, why don't we give a listen to this blog's titular song:

First Aid, Then Bill

Woodbridge first aid squads face financial challenges and petty disputes. The lengthy lowdown here.

Iraqi Graffiti

Well, that third marquee death after James Brown and Gerald Ford turned out to be Saddam Hussein. Couldn't happen to a nicer guy, although it seems as though it could have happened in a nicer way.

A White House spokesman said that as of yesterday, Bush had not bothered to even watch video of the lynching he made possible. I'm not sure I believe that, but if true, it only points to how unaccountable and out of touch he is.

But the definitive list of his sins in Iraq have been catalogued by Ken Pollack. Read this and then try and tell me how history will vindicate this administration. History is now.

Perth Amboy Nights: The Ballad of Charlie Uzar

A 96-year-old man in Perth Amboy faces three months in jail for repeated traffic violations, including the hit-and-run of a deaf and mute pedestrian.

It sort of writes itself.

2006 Reasons To Move On

Ah, 2006. The Year of the Dog. The 100th anniversary of the birth of the guy who discovered Asperger's Syndrome and the 250th anniversary of the birth of Wolfgang Amadeus Motzart, the guy who inspired that song by Falco.

This year saw the beginning of the construction of the Freedom Tower at Ground Zero in Manhattan. It saw forceful anal sex enthusiast Kobe Bryant score 81 points in a game and 12 miners die in West Virginia.

Scientists predicted it will end as the third warmest year on record, behind 1998 and 2005.

Hamas won an election. Rick "frothy mixture" Santorum lost one.

"Crash" won the Best Picture Oscar for depicting the most obvious lessons in crashingly obvious ways. Someone allowed Robin Williams to continue making movies.

I think Michael McDonald won "American Idol."

There was a military coup in Thailand and Slobodon Milosovic died in his cell. Ariel Sharon left office in a coma, and Saddam Hussein was sentenced to death. As for the rest of his country, the jury is still out.

Americans argued about Iraq, immigration and equal rights for homosexuals. Sean Hannity continued to push for sane, tolerant attitudes and peace on Earth.

There were earthquakes in Greece and Indonesia, mudslides in the Philippines, tornados, floods, volcanic eruptions, stiff winds, and sunny days. There were bomb attacks in India and celebrity births in Namibia.

Vince Young just won games, Rutgers football rose from the ashes, Roger Federer failed to excite Americans with one of the best years ever, and a cheater won the Tour de France.

Planes crashed, a popular painting was stolen, and a stingray killed a crocodile hunter.

The U.S. population hit 300 million, and the only thing all but four of them knew about the World Cup was that the bald French guy headbutted the Italian guy.

Science magazine predicted 90% of maritime lifeforms would be extinct by 2048. The Democrats took over Congress.

Iran worked on nuclear devices and denied the Holocaust. North Korea set off a nuclear something or other. Wilson Pickett, Coretta Scott King and Byron Nelson died. Carson Daly continued to live.

I got a headache. Happy New Year.

How I Remember Gerald Ford

By TPerl

Get Up. Get on up.

I Don't Feel So Good

First The Godfather of Soul and now Gerald Ford. Big deaths like this usually come in threes. Is it wrong if I'm rooting for Dick Cheney?

Merry Listmas

And now for a blog from two years ago recycled as a Home News Tribune column. But a good one. Ho-ho.

In the News

By TPerl

Two quick items to talk about:

1) As I'm watching the 11 o'clock news last night, one of the lead stories was the WTC rebuilding story - Actually, it was a side story that got me. Apparently, another bone fragment was found on the site, and the on-site reporter quips: "And some are wondering now if the priority should really be rebuilding" - at which point I shouted out "YES!!!" at the TV screen.

Of course the priority should be rebuilding. It should have been the priority for the last 5 fucking years! Not to sound insensitive to the victims' families, but do you really need a bone fragment to honor their memory, or to "get closure"? If you haven't been able to move on at this point, I don't think a bone fragment is gonna do it - how 'bout some counseling and a prescription for anti-depressants, perhaps?

Look - if you're husband left for work on 9/11/01 in NYC and never came home, do you really need a piece of DNA to confirm what happened? And if the bastard used 9/11 as an alibi to run off to Mexico with that whore in Accounting, maybe you're better off believing he's dead.

2) Stephen Mara, son of Wellington, tackled and choked a fellow NYSE broker (who also happens to be an Eagle fan) after the guy taunted him with that "jump shot" dance that our defense does after a big play.

As Giant fan, all I can say is "Cool! Fucking asshole deserved it". You gotta love a ba-zillionaire owner who can still get that fired up over their team, instead of just treating it like another investment in their portfolio.

And it's nice to see someone on the Giants make a sure tackle these days.

Batteries Not Included

Six more shopping days until Christmas. And this rare funny sketch on "Saturday Night Live" supplies the perfect gift idea.

GE owns a lot more than just NBC it seems

By TPerl

Yesterday, the whole family drove into NYC to see the big tree in Rockefeller Center.

Everything was great until the security guy came up to me to tell me I needed to take my daughter down off my shoulders. Apparently they don't wont to get sued if she falls and gets hurt.

What Rockefeller Center and my kid possibly falling off my shoulders have to do with each other is completely lost on me.

First of all, short of the whole fucking tree suddenly falling right on top of us, I am NOT going to let my little girl get hurt.

Second of all, how can some security guard have the right to tell me how to hold my fucking child? Next I suppose they'll be telling us to make her wear a winter hat so they don't get sued for a case of the sniffles.

Can we just kill all the lawyers now?

Duck, Donald

And now for a fitting farewell to our greatest Secretary of Defense since Robert McNamara.

Euro Itchy & Scratchy Land

Back from vacation, and you just can't beat those Disney imagineers, manufacturing a picture-perfect rainbow for our amusement.

And here for further amusement, a list of the Top 10 Disney heroines. Sorry, Arielle. Your girl barely squeaked onto this list. Apparently because she might be underage (though I imagine she's legal now, if a bit fishy).

The "Ho"-ly Trinity

By TPerl:

The 3 Whores of the Apocalyse ride into town.

If you look closely, you can actually see Nicole Ritchie sitting right there between Lindsay and Britney.

After the paparazzi photographer took this photo, his brain shrunk so much that his head simply imploded.

The GPS Navigation system in the car would only give them directions to an abortion clinic.

The rental car company refused to take back the car until it was tested for STDs.

The only reason Britney looks shorter than Paris is because she's mounted the gear shift.

If Britney had remembered to wax her upper lip beforehand, there would have actually been 6 exposed hairless pairs of lips in the car instead of just 5.


If anybody's out there, feel free to add some more - they're easy (adding captions, I mean!)

In the Grasp and Out of Touch

By TPerl:

From today's NY Post:
"Three weeks ago against the Texans, Mathias Kiwanuka was called for the first roughing the passer penalty of his career. At the time, the rookie defensive end said he'd have to adjust to the way quarterbacks are treated in the NFL. Yesterday, that memory came back to haunt him and sink the Giants."

Don't get me wrong - this is not why the Giants lost yesterday. And secondly, the Giants are officially done this season, and I don't pretend to believe otherwise.

But I've seen enough "roughing the passer" calls this year to wonder if the whole "protect the quarterback" thing has gotten out of hand again. Remember "in the grasp", people! Back then, you could get a sack while lying flat on your back as long as you could grab the QBs ankle for a second.

Nowadays, you get flagged for anything that doesn't look like the kind of takedown move you would use on your 5-year-old nephew in the backyard.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but these aren't fucking punters, here. The prototypical QB in the NFL today is about 6'5" 250 lbs, right? I think these guys can take a hit. These guys have been taking hits every game of their football lives before reaching the pros. How many options do you think they ran in college - they're essentially another running back out there. Until they're drafted, that is. Then they become this untouchable, fragile, and, most importantly, EXPENSIVE commodity that must be treated with kid gloves on the field - as long as those kid gloves don't actually follow through on their tackles.

Let's do some comparisons, shall we? According to NFL.com:
Shaun Alexander: 5'11", 225lbs
Ladanian Tomlinson: 5'10", 221lbs
Tiki Barber: 5'10", 205lbs

versus

Payton Manning: 6'5", 230lbs
Tom Brady: 6'4, 225lbs
and yesterday's hero, Vince Young: 6'4", 228 lbs

Think about the amount of abuse Tiki Barber gets on each carry - that's about 20-25 times a game that he is slammed to the ground by multiple tacklers. And how often does a QB get sacked/knocked down/hit per game? Maybe 10 times on average, and usually just by one guy's glancing blow.

The fact that a defensive player had to completely alter what his natural instincts and years of coaching had taught him to do, because he might be legally tackling (in all OTHER senses of the term) the guy WITH THE FUCKING BALL IN HIS HAND, who just also happens to be the guy who throws the ball from time to time, is a fucking disgrace.

The Kiwanuka play should be a wake up call to the league.

Otherwise, why don't we just let all the QBs wear flags on their belts?

Resting Bones

Down here in Jeb Bush country again, walled inside a gated community adjacent to gated communities inside gated comunities. And due to limited computer power, I sadly won't be contributing to my blog much over the next two weeks.

You know what that means, Perl. Better pick up the slack to slake the thirst of our four regular readers for that Rolling Bones tonic.

"Goin' home/ goin' home/ By the riverside I will rest my bones/ Listen to the river sing sweet songs to rock my soul" -- R. Hunter

Suck On This, Juice

On Nov. 27, Fox will air the first of a two-part interview titled "O.J. Simpson: If I Did It, Here's How It Happened.''

No, you are not reading The Onion. No, I'm not making a joke.

O.J. Simpson, a man who murdered his wife and her friend, will be on TV explaining how he would have killed his wife and her friend if he hadn't killed his wife and her friend.

Simpson, you may recall, was acquitted of the 1994 murder of Nicole Brown Simpson and Ronald Goldman. In 1997, he was found liable in a civil lawsuit brought by the Goldman family for the wrongful death of their son. The Goldmans have yet to receive more than a pittance of the $33.5 million decision Simpson owes them.

In this country, fair-minded, sincere Americans can disagree about how our government should treat abortion. We can disagree about the best way to fight terrorism or cope with the war in Iraq.

But after more than 10 years since the verdict, can't we agree that O.J. Simpson is a murderer?

A Gallup/CNN/USA Today poll from 1995 showed 33 percent of Americans agreed with the not-guilty verdict, including some polls that showed up to 78 percent of black Americans supported his acquittal. Ten years later, an NBC News poll found 12 percent of whites and 70 percent of blacks still think Simpson is innocent.

I won't get into the galaxies of evidence against Simpson here. People can only see the world through their own eyes, drawing from their experiences to help them reach conclusions. When I see a proven wife batterer drip his own blood and the blood of two separate victims all over the crime scene, his car and his home, that's all I need to know.

So I'm looking forward to the interview and Simpson's charming new book, ""If I Did It,'' to be released Thursday. Fox knows people will watch. And they should, if only as a lesson in American injustice and the gall of deep self-delusion. The fact that Simpson would even entertain a book with that title and premise should convince any sensible person of his guilty conscience. But there is one man who knows the absolute truth, and I direct this to him.

Because you, Orenthal James Simpson, didn't just hypothetically kill two people. You butchered them with an awfully big knife. And killing with a knife isn't like pulling a trigger as you drive by, is it? No, I figure you needed to get in pretty darn close and deal with some awfully violent squirming and defensive thrashing while you hacked away and sliced as the life you clutched spurted blood and agonizingly jerked from frantic panting to gasping anguish to lifeless stillness.

And that's just the first victim. The other one was stronger, yet ultimately just as helpless. After all, even in your advanced age and with arthritis, you were a Heisman Trophy-winning, hall-of-fame professional football player with surging adrenaline pumping slash after slash in a supercharged rage.

Despite Fox's sick spectacle, you likely have no book-ready recollection of that evening. At least no memory that your conscious mind will permit you to recognize. But don't tell me that the horror doesn't claw at you in the stark darkness of your sleep. Those nights when maybe the coke isn't plentiful or powerful enough to bury your worst instincts and pain. Because memories that intense never really fade. They just become harder to access and retrieve. Kinda like your once-exalted place in society, eh?

So peddle your lies and fantasies. Play your public golf courses and complain about the tee times while searching for "the real killer.'' Use your poor, motherless kids as sympathy crutches and ready-made excuses to exploit anything, anyone, anytime.

Walk through life like the pathetic ghost you are. Insignificant and starved for attention. Almost too sad to be truly evil. And try to keep pace ahead of those hellhounds on your trail.

Spoonfed Entertainment - Big Bang

By TPerl (courtesy of our friend Spoony):

SEXY, FUNNY, VIOLENT 1st VIDEO FROM THE BADDEST NEW MFing EMCEE OUT THERE! SPOONFED ENTERTAINMENT...EAT IT!!!!!!!

Patriots Sign Testaverde

I know it was traumatic for Bill Belichick to lose to his protege Eric Mangini on Sunday. But yesterday's signing was either intended to make all of New England cry or The Genius has lost his marbles. I mean, 43-year-old Vinny Testaverde? If Brady goes down, the season is over. He might as well have Troy Brown play quarterback. Or signed Andy Dick.

T V Perl

By TPerl

I figured it was my turn to chime in on TV, especially since I spend so much time watching it.

Between Playhouse Disney (Handy Manny is our current favorite show, which is to say my 3-year-old loves it) and all of our animated films on DVD (Cars is already on its 15th viewing right about now), here's what I've been watching these days (not including sports):

Monday:
Heroes - First of all, I am huge fan of the X-Men movies, and it probably explains why I like this show so much. Although I never really got into "Lost", I think it's unfair to make any comparisons to that show at this point. Clearly there's a plan for this story (at least for this season), and the creator has made a point of stating that in each episode he does NOT want people to be waiting for something to happen - and I'd have to say that he's been true to his word so far.
Studio 60 - Funny in a West Wing kinda way, but did you expect anything else? I don't understand the criticisms about how unfunny the "show within the show" is - if those skits were really that good, they would've been on the real deal: SNL (and we all know how unfunny most of that shit is). And the fact that I don't see "Chandler" every time Matthew Perry is on screen is a credit to either the writing, his acting, or both.

Tuesday:
Friday Night Lights - Two words, kids: Minka Kelly. Also, I agree with Bones about the story and the characters feeling very real - and this coming from a guy whose high school didn't even have a football team (Go Bronx Science!).

Law & Order: SVU - Always solid, even in reruns. Mariska Hargitay and Chris Meloni are a great duo. Mmmmmmmm, Mariska...(drool)

Wednesday:
Professional Poker Tour (Travel Channel) - Not to be confused with the WPT. I can't seem to find any other "go-to" show on Wednesday night right now, but at least I always have the PPT. And just like the name suggests, no amateurs in this show except for the occasional exemption for celebrities. The poker is great (obviously) and the stats that flash on the screen are always relevant and add to the game.

Thursday:
My Name is Earl & The Office - A great block of TV for me. I think Earl has not been as funny this season, but still enjoyable. But without Jamie Pressley, this show would be nothing - she is consistently the best part of the show, and deserves all the praise she is receiving. The Office is still fantastic - and I don't even mind the Jim/Pam romance thing, and it seems like they're going to do the right thing and not make them get together.

I finally caught a couple of episodes of 30 Rock, and I'm now a fan.

When Scrubs finally returns on Nov. 30, my TV Thursday will be complete.

And I haven't watched ER in like 5 years. Does anyone?

Friday:
Law & Order - Horrible move putting this on Fridays, but hey where am I going anyway? Gotta love the "ripped from the headlines" storylines. Still, I'm always waiting for those great Lenny Briscoe one-liners that are only available on TNT nowadays...

Other shows that may stop my remote as I flip around (some are good, and some are just filling airtime it seems):

High Stakes Poker (Game Show Network, Tuesday & Friday?) - This is more than just a televised poker game, and I recommend this show to anyone who likes watching any of the other poker shows out there, including Celebrity Poker Showdown. This is a table of eight of the best players in the world playing a high-stakes CASH game, with some of the bigger pots reaching well over 100 grand (that's 100 grand of THEIR money, not a stack of tournament chips). There's no tournament, no waiting for the "final table", and no bullshit. All the great characters of the game are usually playing - Mike "The Mouth" Matisow, Sammy Farha, Phil "The Unibomber" Laak, Daniel Negranu, etc. These guys are playing to win, and they don't hold back on the swearing, trash-talking, and funny banter. Add in commentary by AJ Benza and Gabe Kapler, and how can you not be "all-in" on this one (Can I be any cornier)?

World Poker Tour (Travel Channel, Sat night)- If my wife doesn't let me play on Saturday night, at least I can pretend. And yes, I realize this is the third poker show I've mentioned so far.

The Simpsons - I usually miss it cause we're putting the kids to bed, but I still look forward to watching it on DVR.

Deal or No Deal - I still can't figure out why I can't stay away from this one. Maybe because it seems like it's ON ALL THE FUCKING TIME!

1 vs. 100 - Why don't they just call it "Mob or No Mob", since it's trying so much to be like that other gameshow. The only interesting part of this show was that Ken Jennings was part of the first Mob - and I assume the show creators thought he'd be their anchor in case anyone got close to the million dollars, but he got knocked out on like the third show. This is another one where I wish I could somehow turn the TV off, but something pulls me back. Please help!

Biggest Loser - Fat, sweaty, people in tight, revealing clothing - What's not to like? But the female trainer this year is MUCH hotter than the last one, mostly because she doesn't look as much like a man with breasts. I think I like this show because of its inspirational stories, and how these people don't just lose weight but really turn their whole lives around. Either that, or the female trainer.

Las Vegas - The antithesis to the fat and sweaty people. They should just call this show "Breasts, Breasts, and More Breasts. And a casino." Although it's rare that I'll watch a full episode of this show, it's obvious that the plot is always secondary to all the eye candy on this show.


Interestingly enough, there's a fellow on pajiba.com called "The TV Whore" who's writing a similar series of posts this week. I thought I watched a lot of TV until I read what this guy watches just for Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday. So I guess I'm not a full-blown TV whore - perhaps just a TV slut?

How does "TV Skank" sound?

Red State Rules

Screw the Democrats. The wave washing over the country this week is not donkey blue but scarlet red. Jump on the bandwagon America. The team that invented college football is 9-0 and ready to beat the world. (Though probably not Ohio State or Michigan.)

I Wanna Dip My Balls In It!!!

By TPerl



In case you missed it, Season 1 of MTV's The State is now available on itunes. This was one of the funniest sketch comedies ever, and luckily for me it was on MTV during my prime stoner years.

Now I can attempt to relive those days on my ipod - Ah, I can almost smell the bongwater now.

If you don't feel like shelling out the $1.95 per episdoe, YouTube has plenty of low-video-quality sketches that you can view for free, like the one above. The key part of this clip is the credits at the end, where they do a spot-on impression of the outtakes shown during the credits of Cannonball Run.

This is clearly one of the funniest bits I've ever seen - not so much because of the impressions of the actors (although the Dom DeLuise is good), but just for having the balls to do something that only a small minority will ever recognize and appreciate.

"These bleeds?"

Freedom

OK. I admit that voting is important. I admit that even if the vote you cast won't ever turn an election in any direction, it's the best way to participate in the system and send a message. And the message to send this year is that we will not stand by while our government reduces The Constitution into a soggy piece of toilet paper. We must refuse to be scared. We must refuse to accept incompetence and arrogance. We must vote.

I'll join you guys next time.

Swimming Under the Bottom Line

The undefeated Rutgers football team might be making national noise this week against #3 ranked Louisville. But six sports won't even exist next year thanks to budget cuts at the state university. That includes the men's swim and diving teams, who share one of the most impressive facilities in the region.

Freedom's Just Another Word For The Right to Be a Dumbass

I'm not one easily roused to righteous indignation, but one night last week I'd never felt as strong an urge to reach into my television and strangle a 16-year-old kid and his mother.

The kid in question, Walter Petryk, had been booted from his Brooklyn high school after arriving on Halloween dressed as Adolph Hitler. He had even grown an adorable little black mustache to complete his swastika-adorned outfit.

The New York Post reported that the principal removed Petryk from his second-period English class at Leon M. Goldstein High School when he refused to take off the outfit, citing his constitutional rights to free speech.

His mother — married to a Jewish man who reportedly had relatives die in the Holocaust — then delivered him the outfit the following day so he could pose, arm-raised, for photos with local media. I caught up with the story while watching Bill O'Reilly's show Thursday night.

O'Reilly, taking pains not to be perceived as bullying a kid, calmly asked Petryk why he chose to wear that particular costume.

"Why not?" Petryk, an honors student, answered.

O'Reilly then asked if he understood how his portrayal of a man responsible for World War II and the systematic extermination of six million Jews might offend some people — perhaps some people at a school named after a Jewish educator. Perhaps some of the people in Brooklyn who have tattoos on their wrists to remind them of their time in camps with family members who were gassed to death and burned in an oven by Hitler.

Petrtyk admitted that he figured some people would be offended, but they should "lighten up," because he was just making a joke. He wasn't really espousing Nazism or advocating the death of Jewish people.

His mother said she had initially tried to dissuade him from playing Hitler, but relented to his "artistic freedom," suggesting he was following in the comedic tradition of Mel Brooks' "Springtime for Hitler." It was Halloween after all, she said.

This isn't new territory. England's Prince Harry bombed with a similar sartorial joke at a party a few years ago, and Cartman, the cartoon Id on "South Park," succeeded in pushing these same buttons with his own school-worn Hitler outfit. Cartman's joke — or actually, the show's writers' joke — worked because he's a fictional character on a satiric TV show. Mel Brooks delivered his joke to a paying audience in the context of a play-within-a-play, intending to provoke and offend by portraying Hitler as a flamboyant goofball to deflate the dictator into the butt of a joke.

Prince Harry and Petryk had no such well-conceived motivation. A Halloween costume is not a comedy skit with context and an easily shared point-of-view. People see something and react. Pertyk said he did it only because he could. It was his right as an American to dress and speak as he pleases.

True. But we Americans must also endure the consequences of our freedom. And when someone — even a kid who acts dimmer than his GPA might suggest — deliberately and publicly offends people, he deserves derision. Loud and long.

On Halloween, Petryk rode the subway to school dressed as Charlie Chaplin, donning a bowler hat and top coat to conceal his real costume. He knew he would upset people and likely provoke confrontation.

There are many things our freedoms allow us to do. It is Petryk's First Amendment right to mock blind people behind their backs or lead a Ku Klux Klan rally in Harlem.

Petryk wasn't just randomly exercising his freedom of speech. He was intentionally acting in a way he knew would upset other people. And it is my First Amendment right to call him and his excuse-making, wrong-lesson-teaching mother exactly what they are: jerks.

Try that one on for Halloween.

Princess Ella Organa

My niece appealing to Obi Wan Kenobi for help.

Fall/Winter TV Guide

Friday Night Lights


Watching TV these days can be a real chore. There aren't many great shows, but even if you stick to the very best and dutifully record them on your DVR, there just aren't enough hours in the day to watch them all. And I'm a guy whose girlfriend lives two states away and who hardly lifts a finger other than the one that presses buttons on the remote control.

So as a service to the refined TV-viewing sloths out there, here are the essentials as I see them.

• "Friday Night Lights" -- Better catch this one before it's gone. The movie, based on an exhaustively researched book by Buzz Bissinger, gave us a season in the life of a Texas high school town that, like every other town in Texas, worships football above all else. The TV show, using a fictional Texas setting, allows an even more detailed look into the lives of each character. Every scene rings true. It's heartbreaking, honest and inspiring. There are characters to puzzle over, to hate and to root for. It's all that's great and horrible about sports in America. And it's all that television should aspire to be. Which is why it will likely get canceled before the season ends. Maybe you should wait for the DVD release.
• "House" -- Back after the baseball playoff hiatus, no other show depicts as likeable an anti-hero. Gregory House is the perfect lout, the disgruntled, impossible-to-hate hero. He plays God with an attitude and hidden softness, and in doing so becomes far more worthy of worship than the dude that supposedly rules over all humanity without ever bothering to even send a postcard.
• "30 Rock" -- Tina Fey's take on the behind-the-scenes of an SNL-like live comedy show allows her to vent all her years of frustration against television executives and everything else that gets under her skin. But unlike Aaron Sorkin's preachy and smug "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip," Fey doesn't get bogged down in anything so lofty as The Future of Television or The American Culture War. It's a comedy show about a comedy show, more in line with Sorkin's brilliant "Sports Night" but with it's own edge and lunacy. In last week's episode Alec Baldwin's meddling network exec channels Hannibal Lector to intimidate a clueless NBC page, whom he claims is destined to either one day run the network or "we will all die by his hand." No other sitcom has been worth watching since "Seinfeld."
• Of course, there are the Comedy Central staples, "The Daily Show," The Colbert Report," and "South Park." They remain as biting and hilarious as ever. Last week's "South Park" was about Satan holding a "My Super Sweet 16"-style Halloween bash at the W Hotel in Los Angeles. The only thing funnier is an episode of "My Super Sweet 16" on MTV, which I catch from time to time as a way of feeling good about my own privileged position in life and thanking my parents I'm somehow not a raging, spoiled brat.
• I started watching "Heroes" on NBC, one of the more popular break-out hits among the kiddies this year. It's well-conceived, but somewhat obvious in it's plotting. I watch it in fast-forward, more curious about how and when the writing will derail like on "Lost."
• I was somehow able to convert a football-ignorant Rolling Bones blog contributor to the sublime pleasures of "NFL Films Presents." Almost impossible to find without an extra smart DVR, this ESPN regular breaks down the league into its most curious stories with the best behind-the-scenes footage and in-game audio of any sport. So far there have been pieces on the municipal ownership of The Green Bay Packers, the 24-year career of Morton Andersen, ordinary people who share names with NFL legends, and the peculiar popularity of Phil Collins "In The Air Tonight" during pre-game warmups. All perfectly edited and narrated by Steve Sabol.
• The Cartoon Network's "Robot Chicken" is consistently surprising and hilarious in sending up pop culture with stop-motion animation of action figures doing naughty and sick things.
• And "The Office" on NBC might not have me rolling off the couch so far this season, but they have succeeded in keeping the romantic plot to the sidelines while offering cringe-inducing moments like Micheal (Steve Carrell) proving his tolerance by kissing a homosexual employee.

There's plenty more out there, but those are the essentials. And we've all got to save some time for football games. And human contact.

How Does it Feel (To have your music bastardized by a Broadway barbarian)?

Twyla Tharp bring's Bob Dylan's music to Broadway in "The Times They Are A-Changin'" and she gives us all a taste of the revolutionary power of a preening dufus parading around with a giant glittered novelty guitar and crooning "Like a Rolling Stone."

Oh, good grief.

Here, O America: The Boss is our God; the Boss is One

More shameless Springsteen worship from yours truly. Next week: The stoning of Clay Aiken!

America The Beautiful

Here's an MSNBC.com story that answers all my questions about the efficacy, legality and morality of our country's interrogation techniques. It's not pretty.

Movie Quote Quiz

By TPerl

The following aren't the most memorable movie quotes, but ones that I personally find my myself quoting often for whatever reason. So I figured, why not make a game out of it here on "Rolling Bones". The only clues I'll give you is that each quote is from one of my favorite movies of all time, and each movie is only represented once.

1) “In fact, I was a member of the board when we drafted it, so quite the opposite.”

2) “Best damn chicken in the state.”

3) “Are we…black?”

4) “You overcook it, it defeats its own purpose.”

5) “I’m stayin’. I’m finishing my coffee.”

6) “He’s gone. And we couldn’t do nuttin’ about it.”

7) “No, thank you, I take it black, like my men.”

8) “I locate mandolin strings in the middle of Austin. I prize the rent out of the local Hebrews.”

9) “Why don’t you have the steak? Then maybe I can get a little surf-and-turf action.”

10) “Where’d you get this jacket?”


A shiny new donkey to whoever gets the most movies correct (extra points for naming the character and/or actor who said it). So I just want to wish you all good luck - We're all counting on you.

WARNING: ALL ANSWERS ARE NOW PROVIDED IN THE COMMENTS SECTION

Love You First Time, Love You Long Time

Can someone explain to me why people calling into sports talk radio feel the need to preface their inane opinions by declaring they are a first-time caller and a long-time listener? Of what value is this information? Who gives a dinky shit if Sal from Yonkers is a "first-time, long-time?"

Way to go, Sal! You popped your sports talk cherry! Now go stick it back up your ass.

My Pet Goatse

Somehow I've been cruising the Internets for 10 years and managed to miss the phenomenon known as goatse.cx.

Check it out. And be thankful I didn't link directly to this (not safe for work, digestion, or a good night's sleep).

Not Necessarily A Blog

Long before "The Daily Show" and while "Saturday Night Live" floundered in irrelevance, there was HBO's "Not Necessarily The News." Flashback to 1987, and admire the brilliant editing. Ah, Reagan, threats of nuclear armageddon and Communism. Those were the days.

Mr. Garble For Senate

I just had to share this campaign ad that's in heavy rotation out here in Joisey. It's Tom Kean Jr. accusing Sen. Bob Menendez of...well...hmm. Listen carefully, as the Menacing Voice-Over Narration-Guy instructs. Really carefully. Like, with super hearing.

A-Rod Killed Cory Lidle

By TPerl

If A-Rod (and the other overpaid, past-their-prime all star hitters in the Yanks lineup) had actually done their jobs in the ALDS against Detroit, maybe Cory Lidle would have been at Yankee Stadium on Wednesday afternoon getting ready for Game 2 of the ALCS instead of flying a plane along the East River.

By no means am I trying to make light of this tragic accident, but can you really argue that I don't have a valid point?

Knock The Vote

I've recently been accused of un-American activities for my expressed intention to forego my hard-won franchise and pass on this year's mid-term election. That's right. I'm not voting.

The first vote I ever cast was an absentee ballot in the 1992 presidential election for H. Ross Perot. If there could ever be a better indication I am unfit to select my leaders, it alludes my imagination. (Mostly, I was pretty baked at the time and thought it would be funny. It was.)

I didn't vote in 1996, and in 2000 I voted for Rick Lazio in the New York Senate race against Hillary Clinton. Not because I like Lazio (did anyone?) but because I despised Clinton's entitled, shrill, grating persona.

I voted for Gore and Kerry, and look how that turned out.

So now I'm returning to my roots. And judging by the 63 percent of eligible voters who routinely do not vote in mid-term elections, I'm not alone.

I won't vote in this midterm election because my vote simply won't count, in the sense that it can't possibly decide the outcome. Added to which, gerrymandered districts trick you into thinking you are a member of a representative republic when you are merely a cog in a cynical machine set to a pre-determined outcome.

There are plenty of good reasons not to vote. And appealing to my patriotism or willingness to commit a symbolic act ain't any kind of temptation. I prefer to act realistically and leave the symbolism to poets.

Have The Rolling Bones Killed

By Arielle

Greetings, blog reader,

Notice anything about today?

Yes, October 10 happens to be the birthday of Thelonious Monk, Peter Coyote, Bradley Whitford, David Lee Roth, Tanya Tucker, Brett Favre, Dale Earnhardt, Jr., Chris Penn, Svetlana Bakhridinova, and the nation of Fiji.

It's also the anniversary of the Hurricanes' defeat of the Devils for their first-ever post-Hartford regular season win, Liz Taylor and Richard Burton's second marriage, the deaths of Orson Welles and Christopher Reeve, and Rush Limbaugh's announcement that he was addicted to painkillers and hitting the rehab.

It is also World Mental Health Day.

Yep, today is full of great things!

Oh right. It is also the birthday of one D. Bones. That's right: 32 years of OJ-hating, goatee-wearing, Paris Hilton-slandering, morbidly bad football-watching, apocalypse-forecasting, Billy Joel-mocking, God-denying, right-wing talk radio-listening, Flanders-quoting, Bruce-loving, occasionally complaining, neurotically cleaning, pineapple juice-guzzling, soy milk-sipping, vocabulary-flexing...well, you get the point.

Happy birthday, Bones!

Now you can get back to "Nanny 911" and celebrating your youth.

72 Virgins

By Arielle

Bones and I are stumped, so I'm turning to you, remaining 1.5 blog readers, for help on this important quandry.

We're told these crazy terrorist hijackers are blowing themselves up for, among other things, the promise of 72 virgins. Well, who exactly are these virgins? Are they women (or more likely, young girls) being punished for something they did in life and sentenced to a hell that involves being loveslaves to hairy, socially inept terrorists? Do the terrorists get to pick which 72 they get, perhaps one or two they had summertime crushes on during Jihad camp? Or are they just afterlife nymphs who don't really exist?

I can't imagine there are really enough dead virgins for each one of these deluded "martyrs" to get 72. Or is that why their version of god kills so many innocent people, to restock the virgin supply every so often?

(Disclaimer for the obvious-challenged: No, I don't think these virgins really exist, or that these terrorists actually qualify as martyrs, or that their concept of heaven is even remotely close to what really happens when you murder thousands of people. But if these guys are staking their (in many cases, once-promising) lives on those 72 chicas, don't you think they might have some conception of who they'll be dealing with?)

Just wondering.

The Divine Right of Laws

Thais have a king to hold their country together. We have laws. Or at least we did until Bush, Cheney and Rumsfeld got together.

In more positive news, Carteret has a new program to help pregnant, suicidal, drug-addicted violent kids.

White and Nerdy

Weird Al Yonkovic is back. Actually, I'm pretty sure he's never gone away.

Torturous Logic

Now I hate terrorists as much as the next guy. And don't exactly care how they are treated if caught. Peel their eyelids off and make them watch film of Barbra Streisand dancing nude, I say.

But see, the whole idea of the rule of law is not only to punish the guilty, but to protect the innocent. And just because the government says someone is guilty, doesn't make it so (see: I don't know, tens of thousands of courtroom acquitals every year; or, if you are in a war-on-terror frame of mind: this).

This is a dark time for our country. Not only has our president thrown out the writ of habeus corpus and attempted to justify torture (which doesn't produce reliable information and creates nothing but new terrorists). But I'm actually finding myself cheering for Hillary Clinton.

Damn you, George Bush!

A Heckuva Job, ESPN!

We're glad football is back in New Orleans. We're glad $185 million put the SuperDome back together. We're even glad that UPS is sponsoring the Monday Night Football broadcast.

But did anyone consider that the company's slogan might not be the best image to run over a shot of the SuperDome on the way to commercial?

Breakfast At The Gap

I just wanted to take this moment and invite all of us, young and old, to join together in welcoming back, at long last, the skinny black pant.

I ask: Could this pant be skinnier or more black? The answer is none. None skinnier. Or more black.

I Am A Gay New Jerseyan

Jim McGreevey comes home to Woodbridge with a new book and a new boyfriend. Write your own joke here. I don't do queer humor.

Jesus Camp

Spooky children with glowing eyes and long, flowing mullets are coming to make you see the light. This movie might be more frightening than Children of the Corn.

Beam Me Up, Mangini

My latest column on the folly of being a Jet fan in a Giants town.

And a Star Trek convention of four rocks the North Brunswick Public Library.

Five Years Later

Keith Olbermann makes me proud to be a Cornellian. And an American. And someone who thinks.

I'm not exactly sure if it's fair to blame the Bush administration for the development gridlock at Ground Zero or the Clinton-bashing miniseries "Path to 9/11." But what the hell. A real leader would have found a way to unite this country instead of rending it in half and shitting on the Constitution.

The Day After

They say we live in a Sept. 12 world. And today is our day.

The question on everyone's mind is a simple one, though difficult to answer: Are we safer today than we were five years ago?

I'd say it's hard to argue we are not safer. I mean, just by virtue of being hyper-alert and taking all threats seriously. No matter how incompetent and aloof you might think our president is (and for me, that's plenty), I doubt he'll be clearing brush and contemplating stem cell research the next time he gets a daily briefing titled "Osama bin Laden Determined to Attack U.S." (He'll more likely be ordering torture and violating civil rights willy nilly, but that's another topic.)

So maybe if we were completely clueless and unprotected then, we have a smidge of a clue and some defenses today. And there is something to be said about providing a convenient target in Iraq for those Middle Easterners who want to kill Americans. I'm pretty sure this wasn't the plan (didn't really have one of those), but for an Iranian, Iraqi, Saudi or Pakastani who wants to blow himself up and take some infidels with him, it's a lot easier to hop over to Baghdad and strap on a ready-made go-boom suit than spend years plotting in New Jersey.

But of course, we are not safe. Our borders are porous, our airports like sieves, our ports unprotected, our power plants unguarded, our Homeland Security funding distributed like pork, our intelligence community dysfunctional, our military stretched and undermanned, international nukes unnaccounted for and on and on and on.

There is much work to do even if we never will be perfectly safe. An enemy set on killing Americans with no value on his own life outside his ability to carry out his mission is not one that can easily be foiled. And if we've learned one thing from al Qaida, it's that they take the long-view and have patience to spare.

So take some solace with a pinch of vigilance on this day, our Sept. 12. We are still alive, if also still under attack.

Something To Chew On (But Not Too Hard)

By TPerl

Not sure why this thought came to me. And all apologies for its misogynistic tone, but...

Have you ever used the word "gi-normous"? Obviously it's a hybrid of "gigantic" and "enormous". But there's only really one word which always seems follow it. And that word is "breasts". Think about it.

And while I've seen many lists of all the different words used for the noun (jugs, funbags, bombs, etc.), I never hear about all the wondrous adjectives that usually precede it.

There are many such adjectives which also seem to be almost exclusively reserved for a woman's upper torso -- here's what I came up with so far:

humongous
ample
bodacious (as used with "ta-tas")
saggy
perky
supple
fried-egg
jiggly
bouncy
milky-white
itty-bitty
humongous

Have a ginormous weekend, everyone!

You've Got Baggage! (A Rant on "Rent")

By Arielle

* - With contributions from D. Bones

In each of my summers as a camp counselor, I found myself suffering through my campers' musical "tastes." One year it was Britney. Another was boy bands (98 Sync'in Backstreet Degrees or something like that). And one year it was Rent.

Rent troubled me. Here were a bunch of 12-year-old girls singing on about their stashes being pure and dancing at the Catwalk Club, and some sort of goddam candles that would never stay lit. I'm no prude, but it struck me as odd that a group of teenybopper suburbanites would have such a longing for the lives of AIDS-stricken squatters in Alphabet City.

But then I figured, I've never seen the show. Who am I to judge?

Well, now I've seen the movie. Man, that was terrible.

Granted, I've never seen the play, so perhaps I'm not in any real position to judge. But I'll take those odds. I mean, how can you take seriously any work of art that includes this impassioned line, sung at the tail end of one of the key songs: "I've been trying/I'm not lying/No one's perfect/I've got baggage!"

(Answered a few lines later with: "I've got baggage too." And something about an AZT break.)

I figure this is roughly the same as Hamlet saying "I'm going to take some 'me' time, pop some Zoloft and see if we can't just work it out over malteds."

I suppose I could forgive some of the odd lyric choices (is it really fair to include Maya Angelou in the same stanza as mutual masturbation? I mean, really?) if the music seemed to have been written by anyone who could carry a tune. Maybe dissonant tones were in keeping with the squatter lifestyle (oops, sorry - la vie Boheme), but I suspect not. The only thing worse than music that doesn't resonate in any kind of soulful or even melodic way is music that doesn't resonate soufully or melodically, but still gets stuck in your head. Fucking "Seasons of Love."

One of the characters, a budding rocker named Roger, seems hell-bent on writing one good song before he dies. (I don't know about you, but if I were a rock musician and had still not completed an entire song, I might consider other career options.) Sorry for the spoilers, but Roger (singer/perpetrator of the "I've got baggage" line) falls for, but loses, a junkie named Mimi (who has baggage, too). When he finally decides he really needs her, he ends up writing his one great song.

Here are the words:

As We Said Our Goodbyes
Can't Get Them Out Of My Mind
And I Find I Can't Hide (From)
Your Eyes
The Ones That Took Me By Surprise
The Night You Came Into My Life
Where There's Moonlight
I See Your Eyes
How'd I Let You Slip Away
When I'm Longing So To Hold You
Now I'd Die For One More Day
'Cause There's Something I Should
Have Told You
Yes There's Something I ShouldHave
Told You

When I Looked Into Your Eyes
Why Does Distance Make Us Wise?
You Were The Song All Along
And Before The Song Dies
I Should Tell You I Should Tell You
I Have Always Loved You
You Can See It In My Eyes

If this were my one great song, I'd kill myself.

Perhaps this was an intentional choice by songwriter Jonathan Larson, to make his plot-hanging, poignant song (sung to a dying, though not really dying, Mimi) a really bad song. After all, it was Larson who penned this, not Roger the unsuccessful rocker. Surely he could have written this dude a quality rock song if he wanted him to have one.

Then I considered the rest of the soundtrack. Maybe not.

Granted, there were a couple good songs. And I was excited to see it, having lived on Avenue C for a year or so (though it was in 2004). I figured I'd at least see some images of the old neighborhood, and, heck, maybe even end up finding this to be something of a guilty pleasure. But for this once, my curmudgeonly self was proven right.

Even if you find some appeal in the music, there's the whole concept of the play/movie, the idealization of life in Alphabet City, circa 1989. I've never understood why it held any kind of allure for the people I assume went to see Rent (or even the main characters of the film, the suburbanite kids from Scarsdale and Miss Porter's who ended up living there).

Ok, maybe I can sort of understand that as a form of rejection of the oppressive confines of suburbia. What I can't understand is anyone wanting to pay money and spend a couple hours of their lives watching it.

What are these characters fighting for, exactly? What sort of noble battles are they waging? The right to continue squatting, shooting up heroin and creating bad performance art in abandoned buildings on the Lower East Side? They didn't seem to be contributing much, culturally, to anything. (One character seems to be an ousted professor with a theory of "actual reality" that no one endorses, but the rest don't seem to be doing much intellectual heavy-lifting.) I'm all for art, and I'm all for affordable rent (an oxymoron now in most of the East Village/Alphabet City). But are we supposed to feel bad for these kids from Scarsdale who were apparently driven to destitution out of a desire not to spend Hannukah with a loving, though perhaps overbearing, family?

Aside from having AIDS, these were not the people who were actually suffering during the 1980s or on the Lower East Side, as made perfectly clear by a homeless woman who gets captured on camera by Mark, the budding filmmaker from Scarsdale who believes that ever having his work circulated in the media is tantamount to selling out. The homeless woman becomes enraged when she sees Mark filming her, saying she doesn't want to be part of his movement. And she asks him for money -- which he either doesn't have or doesn't want to give her -- before she knowingly moves on.

Having grown up in a city, I would have found it much more entertaining to have someone set up a camera at one of those suburban high school drinking-in-the-woods shindigs, and watched that. It's the same thing, essentially, just with rhyming music.

Maybe I'm not giving enough creedance to a meditation on life with AIDS. (I was born the same year AIDS was discovered, so I can't say I have much memory of those days.) It did have a couple of moving scenes dealing with the idea of an impending death and potentially being alone for it. But if you're looking for that topic, why not stick with Angels in America?

Of course, seeing Rent made me glad for one thing: the ability to more thoroughly enjoy Team America's parody of it (Lease) and the genius song, "Everyone's got AIDS!"

Rummy, Rummy, Rummy, I've Got Love In My Tummy

Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld said some pretty indefensible things the other day. But I'll let Keith Olbermann handle the recrimination.

MTV VMA RIP

I'm not gonna bother with a full recap of last night's MTV Video Music Awards, assuming most of you out there aren't 12 years old and infatuated with Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance (neither of which I'd even heard about before yesterday).

Instead, I offer this handy list (complete with YouTube evidence) of Cracked's "Five Most Absurd Moments in VMA History." It's not exactly complete, and it sure doesn't go back far enough (who the hell was really taping the show in 1986?). And it neglects Axl Rose's supposed "Guns 'N Roses" comeback from a couple of years ago when he showed up looking like Manhattan plastic surgery cat-lady Jocelyn Wildenstein and playing with a dude whose head was covered by a KFC bucket.

But it's entertaining. Far more entertaining than anything I fast-forwarded through last night.

Know Thine Enemy (my summer book report)

By Arielle

My summer beach reading this year has been a little depressing. I probably should have figured this out when buying a book on the history of al-Qaeda and the plot that led to 9/11.

But it did reveal a few enlightening tidbits about just who these guys determined to kill us in the name of 72 virgins are, exactly.

Take, for example, Osama bin Laden. In his pre-psycho-terrorist, pre-Whitney Houston fantasy days, this jolly jihadist could often be found watching American television classics like "Bonanza" (his favorite) and "Fury," which was apparently about a boy and a silky black stallion. He was one of the few bin Laden boys (he was the 17th of 54 kids born to his father's 21 wives) who didn't get sent to Lebanon for schooling, and this made him stand out as one of the less worldly ones. A former childhood pal described him as "almost girlish."

After he became a scary, creepy radical fundamentalist teenager, he still found time for extracurricular hijinks, like cutting records about jihad:

"Although he was opposed to the playing of musical instruments, he organized some of his friends into an a cappella singing group. They even recorded some of their tunes about jihad, which for them meant the internal struggle to improve themselves, not make holy war. Osama would make copies and give them each a tape."

Later, when he became serious about his religion, Osama had four wives and bought a four-unit apartment building so he could keep one family in each.

When he and his cohorts decided to make the foray into Afghanistan to help fight the Soviets, they were so inept at fighting that the Afghans asked them to leave. (It's not particularly useful when you're trying to fight an invading army and the guys helping you are really just obsessing about martyring themselves, after all.)

But they stayed. And they built caves using the excavators and other heavy machinery owned by Osama's daddy's extremely wealthy construction company.

Wus.

And then there's Sayyib Qutb, the exiled Egyptian with a Hitler mustache who spent a few months in the United States circa 1948 and ended up turning his poor temper into the intellectual basis of today's fundamentalist movement.

As far as I can tell, this guy was just a hugely repressed fuddy-duddy. He traveled around New York and Colorado and a few other places and wrote angrily about the people around him, turning pet peeves into an intellectual exercise. He was particularly repulsed by women and how...oh god...they tried to corrupt the men around them. Oh!

This is Qutb on football:

"The foot does not play any role in the game. Instead, each player attempts to take the ball in his hands, run with it or throw it to the goal, while the players on the other team hinder him by any means, including kicking in the stomach, or violently breaking his arms or legs...Meantime, the fans cry out, 'Break his neck! Crack his head!'"

(So horrifyingly violent, this calls for mass murder of an entire civilization!)

This is Qutb on the American woman:

"[She] knows full well of the beauties of her body, her face, her exciting eyes, her full lips, her bulging breasts, her full buttocks and her smooth legs. She wears bright colors that awaken the primitive sexual instincts, hiding nothing, but adding to that the thrilling laugh and the bold look."

(The horror!)

This is Qutb on haircuts: "Whenever I go to a barber, I return home and redo my hair with my own hands."

(No wonder they hate us! Jihad!)

I'm not sure exactly the point of knowing all this stuff, except maybe to bring this whole global terrorism thing into an even stranger light. We're at war with a reformed Bonanza lover and failed wannabe mercenary (slash-Bobby Brown rival) who's trying to destroy civilization as we know it. And he was inspired by a sexually repressed misanthrope who hated football and wasted money on grooming.

What fucking assholes.

It would really all be quite comical if it hadn't turned out to be so tragic.