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Sunday February 29, 2004

****Leap Day Lunacies

What original and meaningful things can one say about Leap Day? My wit fails me, so I'll heckle those who have lots to say about Leap Day.

The Honor Society of Leap Year Babies (here) feels that February 29 should be officially designated as a holiday because "Leap Year Day is the world's extra day... it deserves a lot more attention then it gets." It earnestly suggests you write to your Senator to get Leap Year Day on the calendar. Because our politicians don't have anything better to do.

This Leap Year site (here) has a list of local newspapers who want to interview a local leap year baby. The New York Times and Washington Post apparently have better news to report. Snobs.

This site lists the scores of very (ahem) famous Leap Year Babies (here). Oh, yeah, just look at all them. The best is this guy: Adolph Blaine Charles David Earl Frederick Gerald Hubert Irvin John Kenneth Lloyd Martin Nero Oliver Paul Quincy Randolph Sherman Thomas Uncas Victor William Xerxes Yancy Zeus Wolfeschlegelsteinhausenberdorft Sr; had a Christian name for every letter in the alphabet, shortened it to Mr Wolfe Plus 585 Sr.

Here's the Leap Day FAQ (here) which is one of the oddest FAQs I've ever seen. The hypothetical questions are so argumentative, like the author envisions people hostilely grilling him about Leap Year.

There is a Leap Year Festival in Anthony New Mexico/Texas (here).

 

Saturday February 28, 2004

****The horror, The horror

The remake of Dawn of the Dead (here) is coming out on March 19. And, from what I can tell in the trailer... the zombies can actually move fast.

1978's Dawn of the Dead (here) is one of my favorite movies ever. When there is no more room in hell, the dead will walk the earth. Well, in the original, the zombies just kinda stumbled. They weren't really that scary. You were only in danger if several dozen of them converged on you. But to me, that aspect of Dead of the Dead was secondary.

The real genius was how the Zombie was used as allegorical figure of American Consumerism. As the zombies flock to the large shopping mall where our Heroes have taken refuge, someone asks "What are they doing? Why do they come here?" and another answers "Some kind of instinct. Memory of what they used to do. This was an important place in their lives." (here for script).

Momentarily safe from the Zombie threat in the gated mall, our Heroes live safe lives surrounded by every product they could ever want... but ultimately it is a boring and empty existence. When their material goods are threatened by outside (non-zombie) pillagers, the greed of one of our Heroes leads to their undoing. Hopefully this unique brand of social satire, more relevant today than ever before, is not lost in the big-budget remake.

Zombies stop for a snack before heading to J Crew

Speaking of horror, we finally watched Freddy vs. Jason (here). I was curious how Freddy and Jason would be brought together, and that part worked surprisingly well. I'm not going to say it was plausible... but in the context of the movies, yes, it was convincing. Not bad, but definitely not good as it was filled with plot holes, and was more gory than scary.

I never knew Camp Crystal Lake is within driving distance of Elm Street. Go figure.

 

****Don't Know Shit About Physics

Being branded a verbal child quite early on, I took only the science and math classes that I needed to get by. The bare minimum never including a Physics class.

I acutely feel the extent of my Physics ignorance as I read Quicksilver: The Baroque Cycle Part 1 (here) by Neal Stephenson, a historical fiction novel with characters such as Isaac Newton, Samuel Pepys, Robert Hooke and Robert Boyle (Mother Goose and a young Ben Franklin-- my sort of people!-- also make cameos).

You know, I actually kinda believed Isaac Newton was just some English schmuck farmer who had this great scientific epiphany when an apple bonked him over the head. I never knew that he was this total revolutionary genius in astronomy, math and physics who started writing the theory of universal gravitation when he was 23.

Perversely eager to quantify my oblivion of the practical application of Physics, I took this Basic Physics Savvy Quiz (take the Quiz! here) and scored an astoundingly bad 37.5%. Worse than if I had guessed. I did okay in the Energy Basics section, but demonstrated new levels of stupidity in the Gravity and Nature of Matter sections.

I then had to take this vocabulary quiz (here) to inflate my self-esteem.

 

Friday February 27, 2004

****The Passion of the Pious

I have no interest in seeing the Passion of the Christ except maybe on video. While the heavy publicity temporarily piqued my curiosity, I've heard:
1- It's a bad movie from a film-making perspective
2- It's a brutally violent movie (I'd probably have to leave the theatre)
3- It portrays all Jews as ugly, cruel and blood-thirsty
4- It takes questionable liberties with the Gospels (here)

Super-religious people are flocking to the cinema (the people who would otherwise never go to a movie because it would conflict with their beliefs that Hollywood is doing Satan's work).

Living in Boston, I sometimes forget how religious the rest of this country is. To be sure, Bostonians are devout, but generally it's not an all-consuming part of a person's identity. It's not a town of Puritans any more, it's a town of academics and professionals who clog running trails and chic brunch spots on Sunday mornings. It's a town of students who may belong to a campus congregation but won't let God intervene with a free-wheeling college experience. We don't have the big churches where membership is equivalent to a major lifestyle choice.

So these poll results (here) about the religious attitudes of Americans stunned me. 60% of Americans think the story of Noah is literally true. This means think there was this actual ark and Noah saved humanity as well as every animal on this planet (except the unicorn) by building an ark and gathering on it two of every animal, and then rain washed away every single other wicked thing on the planet, and they floated around for 40 days, whereupon the rain stopped and they restarted humanity (what did the animals eat? Wouldn't they have tried to eat each other?)

Even more disturbing, 78% of people believe in angels. I guess that's sort of a subjective concept. Trying to understand what religious people consider an angel, I wandered to Angel's Online, which has extensive stories about "angel encounters, spiritual awakenings, self discoveries, and healing miracles" (here) . Like "I was in my teens riding my bike home after school. I was riding on the sidewalk and decided to pull out onto the street. Just as I had decided this and was about to carry out my decision, a voice in my head yelled clearly "Watch out!". I immediately looked behind me on the street and saw a vehicle driving by. Had I pulled out on the street, I would have definitely been hit. Still think about this experience and believe that God saved my life." Personally, I would attribute that to a survival mechanism instinct kicking in. But I guess it could have been an angel.

****Olsen Twins in Gawker

In Gawker's reader sightings, there's a great Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen story here: [The Olsen Twins] have friends at one of NYU's Freshmen dorms ... They're there pretty often. This last weekend I saw them there running around one of the floor hallways screaming and raising all kinds of hell. One of their anonymous blonde friends was shouting, "Look! It's Michelle Tanner, and she's on coke!!"

Speaking of which, FHM did an article a shot time ago called '50 Most Hated TV Characters' (here for list, blog analysis... scroll to the bottom of the page for the complete list). The #1 Most Hated TV Character was simply "The Tanners from Full House."

That's a little unwarranted! I agree DJ Tanner (Candace Cameron) was supremely annoying, but how can the entire family be the collectively most hated character ever? More hated than the Nanny, Bobby Brady or Urkel? More hated than Alf? What about Skippy from Family Ties, or Wilson from Home Improvement, or Natalie from the Facts of Life, or Vicky the Robot from Small Wonder? How are the Tanners that much worse?

Those Detestable Tanners

 

Thursday February 26, 2004

****How Not to Sell Bagels in Boston

I've simply had enough of these poorly-produced Ray's New York City bagels (here) commercials that frequently run during the local news.

First of all, half of the people in Boston would never buy a bagel with the moniker "New York City". The rabid animousity towards that city runs as deep as magna as manifested by the whole Yankees Suck phenomenon. To purchase a New York City bagel would suggest that a Boston bagel was inferior... but we all know that's it's just because the New York City bagel has all this money thrown at it and the Boston bagel may not have the talent, but it has the teamwork and spirit, and that counts for something.

Second, the other half of Boston, mostly non-natives who are in fact New York-philes, would never touch a bagel, especially one hawked by a pudgy man who talks like a demented kindergarden teacher.

The About section of Ray's New York Bagels web site (here) makes the founding of a bagel company sound like this great scientific breakthrough, for instance: they realized if they par-baked the bagel 95% of the way and consumers cooked the last 5 minutes, the bagel would be perfect, like buying a bagel hot from the oven of a New York Bagel Shop.

 

****What's Up with These Abnormal Weather Patterns?

Guess who has gotten more snow this year: Boston or Las Vegas?

While yes, it's true Las Vegas has gotten almost ten inches more snow than Boston (here), it has still been a brutally cold New England winter. But we have gotten practically no snow since that big Nor' Easter in December.

I'm so ready for some hot beach frolick.

 

  

****Quote of the Day

"Dullness is the coming of age of seriousness."

--Oscar Wilde, Phrases And Philosophies For The Use Of The Young (here)

 

Wednesday February 25, 2004

****Gay Weddings

I don't know what the big deal is. Every wedding I have ever attended has been happy and gay.

 

****Wendy's Workers Strip Searched

This past weekend, people posing as police convinced Wendy's fast food restaurant managers strip search teenaged Wendy's workers in Greater Boston (here).

They said they were looking for the beef.

 

****Businessmen as Politicians, Part Two

Last week (here) I put forth that corporate America should stop raiding our government, because businessman lack the skills to communicate with the public like a good politician should. Corporate America is an inherently unethical environment that breeds secrecy and corruption, two elements that should have no place in our government.

Should have. Of course a life-long politician can be just as corrupt as a businessman. The difference is, political corruption is more detectable than corporate corruption because politicians love to squeal on each other. And the media (generally) does its constitutional job of telling us about it. Corporate guys don't squeal and they don't mix with the press. They're all introverted and secretive as epitomized by Dick Cheney.

I didn't mean to imply that businessmen can't be effective as politicians. Take Mayor Bloomberg, for example. Most of NYC can't stand him precisely because of his businessman-like qualities: His hard-nosed efficiency, his willingness to do the right thing despite invoking public criticism, his unwillingness to pander. Yet I think he's precisely what NYC needs. After decades of mayors focused on publicity and public opinion, they needed a guy to say We're closing useless fire stations. As far as I can tell, Bloomberg had no nefarious purposes in seeking the position of mayor except his own ego.

This week issue of the New Yorker has an article "The Mayor is doing a good job. Why don’t people like him?" (here). Bill Thompson, Jr., NYC comptroller, says “There are a number of things I give the Mayor a positive grade on... But the mayor is not just a C.E.O... The mayor is an emotional leader, an inspirational leader, and in that regard I don’t think he’s done nearly as good a job."

 

****Kudos to Curb

My boyfriend and I watched Episode 37 (the surrogate/heart halter/David Schimmer's father) of Curb your Enthusiasm via HBO On Demand: Comedic brilliance. Since the beginning of season 4, I fretted that the quality of Curb was dipping, that perhaps Larry David became complacent in his success, that the situations were simultaneously too tame and too outrageous. Like stealing the golf club from the dead guy's coffin. Or the weatherman predicting rain so he'll get the golf course to himself. Yawn, you know?

But this episode was jam-packed of subplots and impossible situations that all came together perfectly in the end.

The Seinfeld references at the beginning and end were most appropriate, because it was as if Larry David channeled his Seinfeld-era wit for this episode. But the cursing and adult situations make it better than Seinfeld.

 

Tuesday February 24, 2004

****Voyeurism on Cambridge Street

On Sunday night I passed three young males who were hanging out in front of a church on Cambridge Street, obviously enjoying the last few hours of their week-long February vacation. Two of the boys were noticeably younger than the other, and I heard one of the younger boys say to the older kid:

"Hey, they're taking porn pictures in that window over there, next to the Fresh Killed Chicken store!"

How ridiculous, I thought, mentally chuckling at the young man's tall tale that was obviously contrived to impress the older youth. But as I approached the Fresh Killed Chicken Mayflower Poultry store (here), an unmistakable camera flash came from the apartment on the second floor. And as I passed the apartment on the other side of the street, I indeed spied a mess of nude flesh arranged on a sofa and a fair amount of photography equipment.

What's wrong with this country? Can't a person walk down the street without having to witness a pornography photo shoot?

 

****Show Review: The Von Bondies

I haven't written a show review in awhile, partly because Old Man Winter has kept me indoors and out of music's way, partly because I haven't been inspired to write one... reviews are more fun to write when you get to say nasty things. Hence... my Von Bondies review (here).

 

Monday February 23, 2004

****Tea Time

"Tea. Earl Grey. Hot. And whoever this "Earl Grey" fellow is, I'd like to have a word with him... "
-Captain Jean-Luc Picard, Star Trek, The Next Generation

Sometime ago, I bought a Celestial Seasoning herbal tea variety pack. I always preferred black tea, but the Herbal Tea hysteria that is continually polluting the taste buds of America gripped me as I stared at the colorful, reassuring packaging blazoned with names of fruit and healthful promises (and it was on sale).

Today I had a cup of the Black Cherry Berry tea. It puckered my entire sense of taste for about five hours. After the first couple of swallows, the smell became nauseating and I had to pour it out.

According to the web site (here), each brewed cup releases a deep ruby-red swirl brimming with the uplifting scent and delicious flavor of fresh cherry and berries.

Well, that there’s the problem. It’s tea, not juice, not a smoothie, and certainly not fruit. Tea.

Orange tea is one thing, but once we start getting whimsical flavors like “Peach Apricot Honeybush” and “Honey Vanilla Chamomile” it’s time for a good ole-fashioned Boston Tea Party.

Gather your herbal teas and meet me at the Harbor. Under the cover of nightfall, our act of resistance will ignite revolt against an industry gone haywire, and will say loud and clear that we must not stand for the deliberate foisting of Cranberry Apple Zinger upon our great nation.

 

****Love will tear us apart

Ellen astutely pointed out that my hair (as seen in the picture on the right side of my page) and Kurt Cobain's hair (as seen yesterday, on the cover of Sassy magazine) appear to be the same color. Also: "Doesn't Kurt look uncomfortable in the photo?" I always thought that too. You don't see pictures of him smiling too much. I bet the photographer had to really force it out of him. His eyes seem sad.

The Smoking Gun has a bunch of police reports about Kurt and Courtney (here), including one detailing a physical "love scuffle."

This site demands "Suicide or Murder: What Really Happened? Justice for Kurt" (here) and accused Courtney Love of conspiring to have Kurt murdered because he wanted a divorce: "with a divorce, Courtney would have gotten half, at best, of Cobain's fortune since they had a prenuptial agreement, and also could have lost their daughter to him. With a "suicide", she got everything... she also got a lot of publicity for her "Live Through This" album by her own band Hole... which was released a few days after Kurt was found dead."

 

****A Tale of Hubris, Redress, and "No Whammies No Whammies!"

The Press Your Luck game show scandal, in which an unemployed ice-cream truck driver Michael Larson figured out the Press Your Luck board pattern, is an incredibly bizarre story (here).

 

Sunday February 22, 2004

****No Longer Sissy about Sassy

I admit it: I read Sassy magazine when I was a young teenager. And I loved it.

In the early 90s, all young women magazines such as YM and Teen were gripped in New Kids on the Block/90210 mania. These magazines were so generic and moronic! right down to the exclamation-point heavy writing style! which was at most a fourth-grade reading level!!! The articles boiled down to two tedious topics: Boys and being popular, which confused the not-so-subtle moral lessons about obedience and clean teen living.

Meanwhile, the hip Sassy staff didn't relentlessly advocate abstinence, and they certainly didn't preach conformity. They championed KRS-One, Queen Latifah, Guided by Voices, Fugazi, and various riot grrrl bands. They'd give each member of Sonic Youth $100 and set them loose at a NYC flea market, then write a story about it. Sassy did articles about "What to do if a family member or friend is gay" or "How to score big at a thrift shop". They didn't shy away from world issues, either. I recall in particular a primer on the roots of the conflict in Israel. The fashion was funky, the writing style was ambitious, and reading the magazine didn't make me feel bad about myself. It made me feel like there was a world outside of my suburban confines that I could live in.

I stopped reading Sassy around 1992, after I discovered zines. I made fun of the Sassy staff, who thought they were so cutting-edge cool despite the fact they were sold in supermarkets. A friend of mine named Steve Cook (who I dated solely because he was a savant-level genius) used to go around sneering "That's so... sassy!" and I'd sneer back and we'd both chuckle, and I'd never defend Sassy and what it once meant to me. It wasn't until college that I realized how unique Sassy was.

The editor-in-chief of Sassy, Jane Pratt, has gone on to more dubious endeavors like Jane magazine, which caters to women who pride themselves on being intelligent but can't resist an article about how to get plump, juicy lips or how to tell if your boyfriend's cheating. (In other words, Jane magazine sucks).

Christina Kelly, another Sassy editor, went on to be editor-in-chief of YM. Hearing that repelled me, but I was comforted that Kelly decided to ban diet stories from the magazines and make an effort to use "normal-sized" models (here).

Anyway, the reason I'm writing about Sassy today is because I just read that Christina Kelly resigned from YM on Friday after the head of the publishing company reamed her for making YM magazine "unfriendly to advertisers" (here). And so she resigned. That's pretty darn sassy.

Click here for the Sassy fanlisting.

 

****"wild visual blogging"

Need a wild new desktop picture? I got mine from orangeguru (here).

 

****Lottery: The Stupid Tax

I bought 5 Quick Picks for last Friday's $230 million Mega Millions lottery drawing. I'm one of those idiots who only plays the lottery when it's a record-breaking jackpot (I'll spend money for a one-in-a-zillion chance at winning $230 million, but not $50 million, cause that's just a waste of money).

3 out of the 5 Quick Picks had the number 01, which peeved me. 01 will never hit! I thought, as if that would be the only number to not align with the winning ones. Turns out 01 was the only number I matched. But I don't get any money for that.

There was one winning ticket sold in Virginia (here).

 

Saturday February 21, 2004

****Demonizing the Massachusetts Democrat

There's a great editorial in the Washington Times (here) that rebukes the "parody of Massachusetts as an exotic, left-wing place" and blasts George I (against Dukakis) and George II (against Kerry) for running negative campaigns based on an opponent's home state.

I do think there are a higher ratio of "liberals" here among the general populace. The high concentration of academia (here) is one factor, but I also think it's more acceptable for people (especially men) to take liberal stances on issues, especially social issues. Plus, a lot of people who live in Massachusetts moved here from other parts of the country or world; no doubt they choose to live somewhere with a liberal reputation because they themselves are liberal.

But at the same time, Massachusetts certainly isn't inhabited solely by highly-educated liberals who like high taxes. The Church continues to play a vital role in many communities, as do sports. And outside of the Boston Metro area, there are a lot of blue-collar towns that struggle with the same issues as many blue-collar towns in other states. I think a fair percentage of people in this state vote with their gut.

Why can Republicans hold a Democrat's native state against them? Because voters in the South won't vote for a Massachusetts politician out of some sort of primitive fear. As Bill Maher put it some weeks ago, "Howard Dean's Vermont and John Kerry's Massachusetts... are no longer the places carpetbaggers come from... And I feel bad for the millions of intelligent people who live in a region still dominated by so much prejudice that anyone who wants to be president better have a twang in his voice and pronounce all four E's in the word 'shit'"(on his show, here).

 

****Pissing-My-Pants-with-Laughter Family Guy Line

Peter, decked out in lederhosen, is trying to convince his family to accompany him to a grooving German festival:

"Ah, come on Lois. You know those Germans. If you don't join the party, they come get you!"

 

Friday February 20, 2004

****Ideals

Today I got our mail by the front door of our apartment building. With some reluctance, I picked up the thick glossy periodical addressed to my boyfriend. Guess it's that time of year already.

Once a year, copies of this periodical go out to households across the country with great anticipation and a smidgen of controversy. I myself flip though it and ruefully worry about the effect it will have on my boyfriend. The images contained within its pages cheapen the real thing. How can he be satisfied with what's in his own house when the images depict such perfection?

But, I'll try not to compare what I have to what's in the Ikea catalogue (here).

 

****Stop Those Old Whores!

The world does not need a Sex in the City movie (here). Not even a diehard fan could watch more than one hour of Carrie Bradshaw and her bevy of whory friends living their vapid lives as they go from man to man, restaurant to restaurant, store to store. I swear, it would bomb.

Please, for the love of christ, stop sucking... I mean, beating a dead horse!

 

****Work

Today we had a strategic planning meeting, an increasingly-frequent occurrence at my company, which is growing faster than, oh... Bush's deficit? Bamboo? America's tolerance for tasteless TV? I'm metaphorically empty.

My company has gone from 60 people when I started 2 years ago to about 110. I've never been apart of a growing company before, just shrinking ones. I marvel at the idea that someday we'll have 1000 people. I'll be able to remember when the company could invite everyone to an impromptu celebration at the bar across the street when we signed key contracts, or I'll laughingly recall when, in addition to doing all of the software documentation, I answered the main phone line and took notes at management meetings.

And when I eventually leave, it won't be Worker Drone #64839 leaving... it'll be Meredith, who for a long time was one of only 8 women in the company: The young, hot It Girl who collated like a maniac.

 

Thursday February 19, 2004

****Enron Crook Charged!

Ever since I read Pipe Dreams and learned what utter louts the Enron management team were, I have been waiting for this day: Jeffrey Skilling, former COO and CEO of Enron, faces 35 charges of fraud and insider trading (here). If he is convicted, he faces a lifetime in jail and 80 million dollars in fines. (Ken Lay, you're next baby!)

Skilling pleads innocent, of course, maintaining that when he left the company after dumping millions of dollars of stock, he thought the company was just fine. If Skilling had no idea what was going on at Enron, then 1-Why'd he dump so much stock? and 2- He had to have been the worst CEO ever.

I learned a lot about the corporate world from reading Pipe Dreams, but the main thing I learned: We do not want BUSINESS LEADERS running our GOVERNMENT.

You ever notice how secretive the Bush Administration seems? How they act like the American public doesn't have the right to know the truth? It's a reflection of the business culture in the country. Integrity and honesty are not assets. Money is the only asset because it's the only measure of success.

A majority of people in this country don't understand how unethical many of the leaders of Corporate America are. I think when they hear "so-and-so want to run the government like a business!" they think that's a good thing, that so-and-so will fix the economy. I blame Ross Perot for this.

The problem is, the economics of this country is NOTHING like a business. The way politicians are obligated to communicate with the American people is nothing like how business people are accustomed to communicating with stockholders.

People seem to have something against Washington Insiders, as evident by the number of politicians from the business world who have won elections by branding their opponents as such. Take for example, Mitt Romney's MA gubernatorial win over Shannon O'Brien, in which he repeatedly emphasized his business experience and her long-standing connection to Beacon Hill.

But I'd rather elect a Political Insider than someone who spent their life in Corporate America. Political Insiders understand ACCOUNTABILITY. They know that the American public may be stupid when it comes to MANY THINGS, but they grasp politics more than they get credit for.

Our country should not be run like a corporation; it should be run like a democracy.

 

****If You Were a Shakespeare Play...

Which one would you be? (here, take the quiz)

Great. Just Great. I'm Othello. What's up with that? Everyone knows I'm so King Lear.

Speaking of which, check out Open Source Shakespeare (here) the next time you are in the mood to brush up on the Bard.

 

Wednesday February 18, 2004

****My New Look

Hope you like the redesign... it took me some time, but I added frames to make updating, archiving, and adding content easier. It will also be easier to change the look of the site when the mood strikes.

I also compiled links of both sites I linked to and sites that I liked. Click Stuff at the top of the screen.

 

****My New Look?

I used to think of plastic surgery as a dangerous and ultimately inhuman expression of vanity... but now I'm almost 27, and beginning to comprehend how time can plunder one's internal identity by rendering one ... old.

Not that I'm considering plastic surgery... but I no longer think plastic surgery recipients are inherently bad. Maybe when I'm a jowled, baggy-eyed fifty year old, I'll even be open to the idea. After all, America has always prized self-improvement, marveled at self-invention, and pledged allegiance to individual freedom (here, a great article about the history of plastic surgery on American Heritage.com).

By the way, I consider the term "plastic surgery" to be in reference to a differently-motivated procedure than reconstructive surgery. Plastic surgery is a more apt word for medical procedures that seek to improve one's otherwise normal or at least healthy appearance. Reconstructive surgery is more justified.

 

****Iron-Jawed Angels

I can't stand historical movies that feature modern music. It can really ruin a movie for me. Like I'm watching "Iron-Jawed Angels", a fairly bland movie depicting real-life activists like Alice Paul and Lucy Burns and the struggles of the women's suffrage movement.

Is it good cinema to have "Everything is Everything" by the Fugees playing as we watch a Votes for Women parade? No! It Sucks!

 

****Should I Really Shake It Like a Polaroid Picture?

No way! Rapid Movement can cause blobs. (here)

(Thanks to TG for the link).

 

Tuesday February 17, 2004

****Commitment-phobe

The CGD/FP Commitment to Development Index ranks the world's most developed countries according to how much their policies help or hinder the development of poor nations (here are the rankings; here is the story). In order, the top 5: Netherlands, Denmark, Portugal, New Zealand, and Switzerland.

The US ranked a dismal 20 out of 21. We give the largest amount of cash financial assistance to other countries, but has poor performances in environmental policy and contributions to peacekeeping.

In other words, we're the parents who hand out big allowances but don't bother with curfews or rules.

 

****Is Dick Cheney Dead Yet?

Are you preoccupied with thoughts of the Vice President's impending demise? Me too. But probably not as much as Keith Appleby, proprietor of IsDickCheneyDeadYet.com.

Very informative, with weekly updates as whether Dick Cheney is dead.

 

Monday February 16, 2004

****President "Feel Good"

Sometime last year (July 8, to be exact), I discussed an article that proclaimed NASCAR dads to be the clinching demographic in the next presidential election, a prediction that has apparently come to fruit. (Though there were some ruminations about "Office Park Dads", which would never work; that demographic would feel suicidal every time they heard that bleak moniker.)

NASCAR Dads is a sweeping generalization which the citizenry in question can proudly rally around! It's catchier, covers a more uniform segment of the population, and has great marketing tie-in potential ("This voting demographic has been sponsored by NASCAR!") (Here's a good portrait of the NASCAR dad).

So I guess I wasn't surprised that George W. Bush attended the Daytona 500 this weekend (here), courting the NASCAR Dad vote (though I was a little surprised to see Ben Affleck as the Grand Marshall (here). He should be busy courting fans from an entirely different demographic).

As usual, the President has one thing on his mind: Iraq. "One of the things about NASCAR and NASCAR fans is they support our military...I'm the commander in chief of a great group of people, and to know that citizens who support NASCAR support them makes me feel good."

Is this the sort of inane verbosity we can expect when our dumb president tries to dumb his rhetoric down EVEN FURTHER for the NASCAR fans?

Speaking as a decidedly non-NASCAR fan but as someone who supports the use and leverage of necessary military force... what the hell are you talking about, Bush? It makes you "feel good" that NASCAR fans are ignorant enough to blindly embrace your foreign policy and believe your Weapons of Mass Destruction lies? It makes you "feel good" that your personal grievances and lust for oil have resulted in hundreds of the members of this "great group of people" to whom you could not ever relate to because you (intermittently) served in the National Guard?

 

****This Ain't No Holiday

I pouted internally all day long... because I was at work when it seemed as if the rest of the world had a vacation day.

I don't mind work so much as I hate working when I know most people are sleeping in, relaxing, and shopping for cars.

 

****Crichton on Horseshit

This speech by Michael Crichton (here) is the only thing I've read by him that didn't make me want to gauge my eyes out. Very logical, clear and important ideas on science and society.

Among other things, Crichton criticizes the use of modeling to make scientific predictions about the future, saying Let's think back to people in 1900 in, say, New York. If they worried about people in 2000, what would they worry about? Probably: Where would people get enough horses? And what would they do about all the horseshit?

 

Sunday February 15, 2004

****My Valentines Day...

The Valentines Day festivities began early, with en and I exchanging presents at 4pm (I got a dozen beautiful roses and chocolates; he got the Family Guy DVD Volume 1, tickets to see the Von Bondies next Monday at the Middle East, and Archive, an arty advertising magazine.) We had 5:40pm dinner reservations at the Beacon Hill Bistro. en, knowing I love to be tortured by secrets, wouldn't tell me our destination, even after I relentlessly asked him dozens upon dozens of times.

Fabulous meal. For the first course we had these little mounds of tuna mixed with green leaves and topped with lemon. For the second course, I had a pear tartlette topped with argula, and en had oysters wrapped in hamachi fish. For the main course, I had the Hawaiian escolar with head-intact prawns in tamarind sauce, and en had the sirloin with mashed potatoes and asparagus. Dessert was champagne and three small tastes of chocolate: A chocolate crumb-covered ice cream bon bon, a little glass of a rich chocolate and coffee milkshake, and a tiny hot fudge-filled brownie.

We then went to the Beacon Hill Starbucks for espresso, then walked to the T through the Public Garden. The pond in the Garden is frozen, so we decided to inch our way over the pond; the surface was rough enough to do this easily enough. We took the Green Line back home then shared a romantic evening alone... except for the cat.

 

****Good Reason to Change My Name

So I just found out that this season's Bachelorette is named Meredith (here).

While it is unfortunate that I share my name with the prize pig of such an inane television show, I knew the name was due for more unfortunate media exposure. It's never been well represented.

After doing a bit of research, here are the top 5 famous (first name) Merediths:

1. Meredith Viera, 60 minutes journalist turned The View panelist turned game show procter (The View biographies here)

2. Meredith Baxter (Birney), mother on Family Ties (fan site here)

3. Meredith Monk, respected but rather esoteric vocalist (web site here)

4. Meredith Brooks, musician best know for her oh-so-complex neo-feminist anthem "Bitch" (web site here)

5. Meredith Monroe, Dawson Creek actress (with a hysterically-bad fan site, here)

 

Saturday February 14, 2004

****Doll Love

Barbie and Ken are breaking up (here) because they "feel it's time to spend some quality time -- apart."

I must tell you: Don't believe the spin! I've got the real scope: Freed by the Massachusetts Judicial Supreme Court to pursue his lifelong ambition, Ken is moving to Provincetown with longtime friend Derek.

 

****Yeah, It's Love Now, but...

A researcher claims to be able to predict how long your marriage will last (here). Apparently the methods that a couple uses in order to resolve conflict is a major predictor. Not surprisingly, the couple that uses humor and open communication as opposed to anger and avoidance has a better chance of staying together.

Unfortunately, data on couples who use food, jewelry, or sex to "resolve" differences is not available, leaving 90% of US couples still in the dark about their relationship's life span.

 

****Love News from Around the World

 

Friday February 13, 2004

****Friday the 13th

What the heck is all the hoopla about Friday the 13th?

Friday is the unluckiest day of the week for Christians, who believe that Christ was crucified on this day. They also believe the number thirteen to be unlucky because there were thirteen present at the Last Supper, so Friday the 13th is a double whammy (here).

I never knew that, or really thought about why Friday the 13th is considered unlucky. Strangely, even though I know the superstition predates Jason the cinematic ghoul, I always just thought about the movies whenever the day is mentioned. But it's actually just weird Christian paranoia. Pheesh.

So if Friday the 13th is so bad, then why is the actual Friday that Christ died Good Friday? And if the Last Supper is so unlucky, why do Christians recreate the Last Supper during their worship services? And don't Christians know that Jesus didn't use the same calendar we do?

 

****Indian Food Feast

Today at work, for our weekly Friday department lunch, we had Indian food to honor the return of two of our programmers, who left for a month to get married (to each other) in India.

Why we celebrated their return from India with sub-par Americanized Indian food is a mystery... I think we should have gotten pizza.

I have a problem with Indian food: It's just too darn good!

No matter how full I am, no matter how many times I tell myself "One last bite!"... I can't stop eating it. Indian buffets are torture (eating until your stomach nearly explodes is torture).

Apparently I am not the only person who has this problem in the Software Department. Even the most fastidious programmer can turn into a gorging glutton around saag paneer and chicken marsala. And the nan was very nearly inhaled by the same people who normally discard their bread and buns on sandwich day, claiming to be "on the Atkins."

 

****Bush the Deserter

The White House press briefing on February 10 is priceless (here). It features feisty reporters nagging Scott McClellan about GW Bush's attendance records in the National Guard. McClellan just keeps repeating the same not-necessarily-true information: these records showed that he served, these records showed that he served, these records showed that he served.One reporter demands: I asked a simple question; how about a simple answer?

Sir, as you must know by now, when it comes to Bush, there are no simple answers... there are just badly photocopied payroll records.

www.awolbush.com has a link to a $2,000 reward offered by the Democratic party to anyone who can prove "1st Lt. George W. Bush “In Person” Performing Any Scheduled Non-Flying Duties at Ellington Air Force Base Between May 1972 to July 30, 1973."

I must steal this Teddy Roosevelt quote from Awolbush.com: "To announce that there must be no criticism of the President, or that we are to stand by the President, right or wrong, is not only unpatriotic and servile, but is morally treasonable to the American public... Nothing but the truth should be spoken about him or any one else. But it is even more important to tell the truth, pleasant or unpleasant, about him than about any one else." -- Teddy Roosevelt, Kansas City Star, May 7, 1918.

If Republicans felt it was their duty to tell the world about the President's adulterous oral sex, then why shouldn't this be an issue? This man is the commander-in-chief of the world's supreme military super power, and he deserted while in the National Guard?!?

 

Thursday February 12, 2004

****Tales From the T

1-30-4: Red Line after work. The older woman sitting next me has her torso and head turned to face me. In the reflection of the window across from us, it is apparent she is intensely staring at me. Not in a threatening way, just unsettling, like she’s slightly crazy and convinced that I’m a potential buddy. I have my headphones on and try to ward off her obvious gaze with studied indifference, but to no avail. As I stand up to get off, I get a quick look at her and spy an unfortunately bushy black unibrow.

2-4-04: Proof that the T is not always bad: This morning as I left the South Station Red Line stop, a smiling woman handed me two free samples of Lancome Attraction perfume and said “And here’s some presents for you!”

2-6-04: Green Line at Park Street after work. A tall, gray-haired man wearing corduroys and a leather jacket sits down next to me. He says something so I turn off my minidisk player and say “Sorry?” He says “It’ll be springtime soon,” with cheerful distress, making reference to the wintry mix that’s falling from the sky. “Yes, it will,” I say politely, and pointedly look away. I don’t like talking to random people on the T. I feel uncomfortable. I can sense my elbow is quite close to the side of his stomach, not more than ten millimeters. All I can do is think about my elbow, and without warning it’s possessed with this divine spasm and convulses upwards, jabbing the man in the side, not hard but very sudden. He looks at me, his eyes wide and confused. “Sorry,” I mumble, mortified. We sit in silence all the way to Lechmere.

2-12-04: Probably 95% of the time I get on the subway, I purposely build a wall between myself and the people surrounding me.

Anyone who doesn't relate to this instinctual shelling does not spend much time on public transportation, but most frequent riders isolate all of their senses: You stare at the ground, out the window, or at reading material. You have headphones on. You may talk on a cell phone, but talk to no one on the train unless absolutely necessary. You go out of your way not to touch others, even getting up from your seat if the person sitting next to you physically occupies half of your seat in addition to their own.

Smell is the one sense that can be easily redirected, and this is unfortunate because it is not uncommon to be sitting three feet away from a person who reeks of urine, body odor and alcohol so bad that the animalistic essence of this person coats your sinuses and gathers at the back of your mouth, literally making you gag.

Then you feel bad that this human is invoking such a reaction, as if it's elitist and classist to be physically disgusted by the smell of a poor person. Then you feel angered at this person who is causing you such discomfort and who is essentially invading your space by flaunting their lack of hygiene and self-respect. Then you feel angered at America, because this person represents the downtrodden and meek of the richest country in the world, and he stinks strongly of urine, body odor and alcohol.

Then you wonder if this man doesn't even realize how bad he smells or notice the looks of disgust. You wonder if he is beyond caring, if his mind is occupied with dire thoughts revolving around survival, or addiction, or both. You wonder how society failed him, if he has family somewhere, if he was educated, if he was once like you: A working stiff settled into a comfortable commuting routine except for the occasional encounter with a smelly person.

You still can't breath regularly; your sense of smell can't acclimate to the stench. You imagine the offending toxin clinging to you after you get off the train, following you home, up the stairs, into the bathroom... and as you scrub your hands and face, inhaling the clean soap deeply, craving its purity, its latent promise of a better world.

 

Wednesday February 11, 2004

****The Fog of War

Read my review of The Fog of War: Eleven Lessons from the Life of Robert S. McNamara here.

An excellent movie... but, beyond the actual movie, I'm conflicted about it. By letting a harmless-looking sweet old man in his 80s admit his various war "mistakes", does this exonerate McNamara of the deaths of thousands upon thousands of people for which he is more or less responsible?

Film Threat's review (here) is typically much better than mine. I think the reviewers on that site actually get paid, though.

 

****The God of Punk

A 65-year old Baptist pastor let two young parishioners give him red and blue liberty spikes (here). He promised to get a new "do" if 400 people went to Sunday School last week.

Maybe it will start a trend, and massive amounts of clerics will suddenly start sporting full-sized trihawks (dyed red and green at Christmas).

I scavenged the Web for picture pages of cooler liberty spikes. The best I could find was this LiveJournal community page for People with Mohawk Haircut's Journal (here).

Annoyingly, I kept finding all these Good Charlotte fan pages (here) (here... pretty funny flame on a fan board).

 

****He's No Edison

When I saw this headline Justin Timberlake to Act in 'Edison' (here), my heart almost stopped for fear Hollywood thought Justin Timberland could pull off a convincing Thomas Alva Edison.

But it has nothing to do with Edison... it's about corrupt cops and the investigative reporters who nobly aim to expose their corruptness.

 

Tuesday February 10, 2004

****Get your Kicks on Nylon 66

Nylon 66, a Boston-based rock band, makes me mirthful. They remind me of a time when people went to rock shows and jumped up and down instead of swaying side to side with their heads bobbing ever so slightly.

Go to the Nylon 66 site (here) and download a couple of their songs (here). "Agoraphobia" and "Saturday Night" showcase the singer/songwriter/bassist's pulverizing energy buttressed by years of eccentric euphonious talent.

(Yeah, okay, the singer/songwriter/bassist is my boyfriend.)

Honestly, though, it's deluxe stuff. I wouldn't live with a man who made bad music. If I wanted to hear bad music, I'd listen to the radio.

Nylon 66 is playing at O'Briens in Allston on Tuesday March 16.

 

****Louisiana Dumbo

What would happen to you if you mistakenly sent an email containing vulgar jokes and a 3 minute-long video file featuring female genitalia to several HUNDRED of your co-workers? Would you get fired? Leave out of embarrassment? Be subjected to a dozen or so sexual harrassment suits?

The State Secretary of Louisiana Mike Baer did exactly this, but it was decided he could keep his job and his $123,000 salary (here). Baer had said he intended to delete the material, but hit a wrong button on his computer.

How do you go from deleting an email to accidentally sending it to hundreds of your co-workers? You're probably so severely technologically impaired that you can't do anything worth $123,000 a year.

 

****Playing Politics with a Dead Kid

21-year old James Grabowski was struck and killed by an alledgely drunk SUV driver the night of the Super Bowl. when crowds of college students poured into the streets and victory-inspired riots broke out near Northeastern University in Boston (here). The senseless death of this popular young man is causing a lot of finger-pointing.

Mayor Thomas Menino blames Sunday liquor sales (even though most of the liquor stores closed early that day) and university administrators. Everyone else blames acting Police Commisionar James Hussey for not putting enough cops on the streets to deal with the expected crowds, and for dealing with the riot situation over the phone while he was at a Super Bowl party.

Says Grabowski's mother, "The image of Acting Police Commissioner Hussey directing security operations from a phone at his party, while my 18-year-old son cradled his brother's head, told Jamie he loved him, and watched him take his last breath, is sickening to me (here)."

No,what should be sickening to you is the image of a drunk man driving an SUV killing your son. Because it wasn't Hussey going to a party that killed your son. It was a tragic accident that resulted from the stupid actions of an intoxicated driver.

Let's stop playing politics with this tragedy. This may sound crazy, but let's blame the driver of the SUV, who 1- was drunk, and 2-should never have attempted to drive his behometh vehicle in an area with 5000 riot-minded college kids.

 

Monday February 9, 2004

****The Love Throat

Courtney Love finally has a new album out called America's Sweetheart (here). I was beginning to wonder if Ms. Love, who is pushing 40, finally resigned herself to being occasional nourishment for gossip columnists as the unruly Widow Cobain.

I have yet to hear any of the album, but this positive NYTimes review has piqued my interest. I loved Hole as a teenager. I thought the cover of Joni Mitchell's Clouds was musical perfection. And, despite suspicions that her rock-star boyfriends write all her music, Love's early stuff shows that she does have a unique style as a lyricist ("Retard Girl" for one).

But it was always Love's voice that grabbed me: Raw, formidable, authoritative, but at the same time quite fetching. Live, the appeal of her voice is a little less lucid... but in the studio, she gathered enough power and energy to make her gorgeous voice drip with fervent petulance and awareness that oddly always comforted me, as if Love crooned lullabies instead of howling "When I was a Teenage Whore."

Despite what we see of her lately (intoxicated in public or sitting in a court room, always slouched in her chair and looking pissed), Courtney Love is a smart and gutsy woman. I remember reading her treatise against the music industry in Salon.com awhile back (here). She asserted that people who download music aren’t hurting the artist so much as a bunch of uncreative, greedy music industry suits who are taking advantage of the musicians, and that artists could use free music downloads as a way to market themselves directly to the public and then make money off of their fame in other ways. This prospect is scarier to the music industry than Napster, because it renders most of the people in the industry irrelevant.

I believe Love is addicted to fame (as well as other narcotics), and I believe she craves attention. But I also believe she does this because she knows she deserves it, and that rock and roll needs a talented, matronly hellion to remind us that not all rock and roll stars are manufactered.

 

****In the Dark

This morning NStar, our electric company, cut off our power to do maintenance. They sent us a notice weeks ago saying it was due to come on at 5am... but, alas, it didn't, so I had no power in the morning to get ready for work. No coffee, no boiling water, no hot water to shower, no curling iron, no lights. I felt helpless and frustrated to be stripped of every modern convenience to which my life revolves around.

Every time I entered room, I would flip the light switch like a trained rat. Every task I sought to complete became complicated by the fact our apartment had no juice... and since there was NO COFFEE, I dealt with it fueled on warm Diet Coke. I had to give myself a sponge bath with cold water, then put my contacts in by flashlight, then try to get my hair look respectable without the curling iron, then wonder if my makeup was applied with clown-like sensibilities.

The power didn't come on until 8am, when I was well established at my desk at work, feeling disgusting and disoriented. I know, boo hoo hoo. I'm not asking for pity, but I tell you it was not a good Monday morning.

 

****God is My Co-Pilot

I personally like when I'm on a plane that's about to take off, and the pilot comes on the intercom to engage in one-sided banter about weather and flight patterns; it makes me feel secure, like "Hey, this guy knows what he's doing."

However, if I was on a plane, and the pilot asked all Christians to raise their hands, and then suggest that the Christians discuss their faith with "crazy" non-Christians (here)... well, I would've freaked out. I would probably never fly again, actually.

 

Sunday February 8, 2004

****Getting Litigious about Lotus

Proving that not even Yoga adherents can resist a good copyright infringement battle, the Open Source Yoga Unity collective is suing Yoga master Bikram Choudhury after he sent cease and desist notices to more than 100 Bikram Yoga schools and teachers who use instructors not trained explicitly by him (here).

Can Yoga postures be trademarked? While I'm no lawyer, common sense tells me Hell No. Then again, he did brand the popular Yoga style with his name, and if people are capitalizing on his name in order to hustle taunt-muscled Boomers into their schools, then he should have some control over the quality of the instruction.

Ah, ancient spiritual renewing ritual of Yoga... meet the byzantine trappings of capitalism.

I took a series of Yoga classes about a year ago at a Kripalu studio across the street from our old apartment (here). Kripalu Yoga places emphasizes breathing, so for about 30 of the 75 minutes, we'd lay on the ground and... breath. That's how screwed up Americans are: We pay money to be told to breath.

The rest of the class enthused over how restored they felt. The first class I pulled an inner-thigh muscle so bad that I couldn't run for two months. Many experts say that you should warm-up your muscles before you stretch, but we'd just... breath.

The instructor was a major flake, making intermittent political statements about how we must have peace in world, let's all hope our leaders will see this and other stuff that enraged me. At the same time, everyone in the class competed to be the best little Yoga student ever. If the instructor walked around the studio making posture corrections, everyone looked to see who she corrected. "I've always been very flexible, so naturally Yoga is second nature to me," one girl bragged to me. Then there was the brigade of big girls who took Yoga and considered it to be the height of physical fitness.

As the series of classes came to an end, the instructor started plugging other classes and merchandise like a cracked-out "Crazy Eddie" furniture salesman prior to a liquidation sale. Before class, after class, and even during class she's cruelly tantalize us with more advanced poses that are only covered in another class.

Surprisingly, by this point, the fired up and gung-ho to relax class of 12 had by and large lost interest. One class had 3-4 Yoga diehards and myself, and I only went because I pre-paid for the class. I think people liked the idea of taking a Yoga class more than the actual act of Yoga. But the last class, everyone was back with renewed interest, praising the benefits of the Yoga journey they had taken, and dutifully purchased books and pillows... as if by paying for the useless paraphernalia, they compensated for their inexplicable lag in Yoga enthusiasm.

Lessons learned from Yoga: 1- Inner peace cannot be bought, and 2- I derive way more spiritual satisfaction from incline bench presses and upright rows than from lying on the ground and... breathing.

 

Saturday February 7, 2004

****Burning Man

Have you heard about the 12-foot George W Bush effigy with the burning pants ("Liar Liar, pants on fire") that is being driven throughout the United States (here)?

The Pants on Fire mobile was the brainchild of Ben Cohen, co-founder of Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream. At first it may seem strange that the idea hatched from the same mind that birthed ice cream flavors named Cherry Garcia and Chubby Hubby. But the Pants on Fire mobile marries creativity and public exhibitionism with generic and childish political sentiment, making it an archetypical hippie gesture.

Kudos to Ben Cohen, though. Most hippie entrepreneurs become downright docile as they age. (It would be cooler if he drove the Pants on Fire mobile himself, or at least reimburse the volunteer drivers with something other than free ice cream.)

 

****Gay Marriage and the Black Conservative

It is absurd that people are so fanatically opposed to gay marriage. The rights of gay people have increased exponentially in the past few decades, so why fight the inevitable? The anti-gay marriage faction's arguments are all either illogical, contradictory, or non sequitur.

In the Boston Globe, there is an article about black conservatives and clergy rejecting analogies between the Civil Rights movement and the Gay Rights movement (here). While no one can deny the fundamental differences, I was outraged at some of the comments in the article:

Yes, there are undeniable intrinsic disparities, but every social clan in America that has been denied equal treatment and protection under the law has one important trait in common: The subjugating forces were un-American in spirit and deed, and were judged so by history.

 

February 6, 2004

****Overheard: Summer Street, South Boston

This morning I went to Dunkin Donuts for a coffee, hoping to enliven the Friday enough to simulate a time-acceleration effect. It was snowing, prime fluffy powder.

Two postal carriers stood near the Dunkin Donuts entrance, talking so loud that I didn't want to walk by them in order to enter the store. A nearby group of smokers were also staring at them warily.

One postal carrier, an older fat guy with a big bushy beard, said "You have alcohol on your breath so I'm calling the depot. You shouldn't--"

The other, an unshaven, skinny, beetle-eyed man, raged "No, YOU have alcohol on YOUR breath!"

"I'm calling the depot!" the stout man yelled and turned around, his face red and breath heaving. He started walking to his double-parked truck on the street.

"You have alcohol on YOUR breath! YOU have ALCOHOL on YOUR Breath! YOU have ALCOHOL on YOUR BREATH!" the skinny man started yelling in an uneven but strangely rhythmic chant, following him closely.

"You're nuts!" the fat postal carrier called over his shoulder.

"No, YOU'RE nuts!"

It was like a bad movie.

 

****Say Cheese

I predict the tragic story coming out of Florida, where Carlie Brucia's body was found today (here) after a chilling car wash security videotape captured her abduction, will booster the number of surveillance cameras used in America to fight crime.

I happened to read this article (here) about the proliferation of CCTV (closed-circuit TV) in Britain. There are 4 million such cameras (1 for every 12 Brits), positioned pretty much everywhere. Brits like them, too. The nation is comforted by such gestures after a mall security camera in Liverpool caught a 2-year old child being led out of the mall by the two 11-year olds who killed him. "The public see CCTV not as Big Brother but as a benevolent father."

I have no doubt that America will soon outpace Britain in the number of general security cameras. We'll see if it actually lowers crime.


February 5, 2004

****Courier New 12: The Real Evil

The US State Department has issued an edict banning the font Courier New 12 from all official documents. The new font will be Times New Roman 14 (here).

This government and its fascistic proclamations regarding the finer points of graphic design are really getting me down. When is someone gonna stick it to the man and opt for Palatino or Humanist, or start a revolution with Rodeo Rope?

****Totally Tasteless on the T

****My Formerly Favorite Rug

Our cat has taken to ejecting her hairballs onto my favorite green rug. After a particularly messy one, en took the rug and soaked it in some water. Then I hung it out to dry on the fire escape. Sure, it was about 10 degrees out... but the sun shined promisingly, so I thought maybe it would dry.

But no. It was frozen solid in about four hours...

Yes. I can be pretty stupid sometimes.

****In "Duh" News...

...news is history in its first and best form, its vivid and fascinating form, and...history is the pale and tranquil reflection of it. --Mark Twain

 

February 4, 2004

****How to Marry a Quarterback

Yesterday literally 100s of Googlers came upon my site by way of typing "marry Tom Brady" into Google. Sorry ladies! You probably expected helpful tips on how to snag the world's Most Eligible Bachelor, and here I provided a rambling diatribe regarding adverse American multinational energy interests and the agitating effects on the local populace (here). (Here's the day I mentioned "marry Tom Brady.")

But don't despair; I am eager to prove helpful in your quest to sack Tom Brady at the altar. After all, I am experienced in these matters, having landed a great catch myself (though sometimes if a raw fish comes from a polluted stream, it needs a great cook to tease out all the toxins).

So here are some tips for marrying Tom Brady:

1. Tom Brady is not going to get married anytime soon. He will focus on his game and on being a positive role model. He has a few more years before he starts making a Brady Bunch. Like most famous men, he will choose a mate who is younger than him. So, if you are not between the ages of 16-19, give up now.

2. Tom Brady won't marry a random female fan who manages to get close enough to confess her undying love for him, or who mails him naked pictures of herself, or who otherwise employs stalking-like tactics. So don't do that.

3. Tom Brady won't marry a New Englander. I saw news footage of Tom Brady with his adored mother, who is Californian to the core. He is more the "I wish they could all be California Girls" type. So if you're a harpy from Revere, stop holding out for Tom and settle for Pat the pipe fitter.

4. Tom Brady wants to discover and woo his future wife. You must play hard to get. Unfortunately, playing hard to get means you'd have a hard time forcing Tom Brady into eye contact, because playing hard to get means you can't shout "Tom I LOVE YOU!" with a giant "12" painted on your cheek as he's walking by the crowd of adoring fans in which you are mired.

5. Perhaps today's MA Supreme Judicial Court decision to uphold the legalization of gay marriage (here) is spurring some gay fantasies of tying the knot with Tom Brady? Well, hate to say it, but Tom Brady is so pathologically all-American, the only male he'll ever touch intimately is the Center.

6. Tom Brady will want a girl who understands, appreciates and loves the game of football. So if you watch football as an excuse to drink beer and hang around guys, if you don't understand what is happening in the game half the time, or if you thought Janet Jackson's breast was the most notable part of the Super Bowl... then maybe you should consider becoming obsessed with another celebrity sports hero.

I myself am partial to Antoine Walker. He's gotten so buff (here) since he was traded to the Mavericks by Danny "Dofus" Ainge. Note on Antoine's site under Biography (here), it still lists his team as the Celtics! Sigh. And under Favorites (here), it lists his "Favorite Sports Teams" as being Bentley, S-Class Mercedes, 7 Series BMW, Range Rover, and Escalades? Those are my favorite sports teams too!


February 3, 2004

****Why We Can't Just Go Away

I read The New "Great Game" by Lutz Kleveman in The Nation (here) and thought:

A few weeks back, I overheard someone complaining about US foreign policy. He said that America should isolate itself, withdraw troops from all over the world, focus on homeland security and gathering intelligence, and quit interfering with other countries.

I think most Americans would like this. It sounds great, doesn't it? It would save billions of dollars a year. We could focus on building a great country. Other countries wouldn't hate us so much, and maybe not want to kill us.

So why can't we do this? Why does America need to build a presence in turbulent areas of the world? Why do we have troops stationed all over central Asia, not only in Afghanistan but in the newly independent republics of Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan and Georgia (here)? Why do we have our hands wrapped around the ticking time bomb that is the Middle East?

I'll give you a hint: Black Gold. Texas Tea.

Oil, that is.

If you think we have tens of thousands of troops in countries that most Americans never heard of because they're vigilantly looking for terrorists, then you also must think Saddam Hussein arranged the 9/11 terrorist attacks (here). These troops are securing American energy interest in Central Asia.

Now I'm not one of those lunatic liberals who thinks America "deserved" 9/11. But there's a connection between 9/11 and the gross amounts of oil that America consumes. The United States has 4 percent of the world's population but consumes one-fourth of the world's energy. One out of every seven barrels of oil produced in the world is burned on American highways. And two-thirds of the world's oil is in the Middle East (here).

With such a dire need for oil, this has forced the US to build up and maintain a presence in areas of the world that we should leave alone: The Middle East and Central Asian, backyard of Russia and China. The feeling in both regions is mutual. They don't want us there, yet our thirst for oil means we must be there. In order to ensure that our oil will continue to flow we must dabble in the politics of the area. This results in resentment against the US.

The elite minority who live in these oil-rich countries are insanely rich from selling us oil, but the majority of citizens don't see a penny of it. A lot of these young men are poor to middle-class, their prospects are not encouraging, they may not secure a wife because of the polygamist practices, and the elite of their country is getting filthy rich selling the US the oil that should rightly belong to the whole country. In these circumstances, why wouldn't they hate America and join terrorist cells?

As long as we are dependant on other people's oil, America can never isolate itself from the rest of the world. We must continue furthering our interests in oil-rich regions of the world by dabbling in their governments, incurring the wrath of people who, understandably, don't want us there.

 

February 2, 2004

****The Breast Incident

I know the Janet Jackson/Justin Timberlake breast incident (here) which occurred at the end of an otherwise boring and rather antiquated Super Bowl half time show (does Kid Rock still matter?) was a stunt designed for publicity… a very effective stunt, as I am personally demonstrating at this very moment. A few comments:

1. Justin Timberlake's claims of “wardrobe malfunction” is simply priceless. You see, when he grabbed and pulled off the bosom covering, thousands of little butterflies were supposed to emerge in a symbolic gesture of peace, happiness and goodwill towards man. But it malfunctioned, leaving the entire world gaping at a mere breast.

2. It wasn’t the nudity that bothered me. I wasn’t shocked and scandalized that little kids may have seen a nipple-covered breast. I wasn’t grossed out that Janet Jackson is like 45. It wasn’t even the publicity-desperate nature of the incident. What disturbed me is seeing a man tear off a woman’s clothes in the middle of a football game. That’s not acceptable to me.

3. I know Janet and Justin expected hoopla, but I don’t think they’re prepared for the severity of repercussions they will face about this. It’s another example of Hollywood being out of touch with America. This isn’t Britney tonguing Madonna at an Awards show… this is the Super Bowl. Scantily-clad cheerleaders are just peachy, but triumphantly-revealed bare breasts? No way. There’s a reason CBS would never approve of it… because there are people in this country who are scared of breasts suddenly appearing on their televisions, and they thought they had nothing to fear during the Super Bowl.

 

***Satan Fights Back

Nearly 250 Muslim worshipers died in a hajj stampede Sunday during the annual stoning of Satan ritual (here).

One would be inclined to think that God wouldn't object to Satan being stoned, but "This is God's will," Hajj Minister Iyad Madani said. Maybe the Muslims weren't stoning Satan with enough hate-filled vigor.

 

****Fish on Prozac

Have you noticed how fish are so much happier these days... so carefree and in control of their emotions?

Well maybe it's something in the water (here).

 

February 1, 2004

****Super Sunday

In Boston the excitement in the atmosphere is, to cull an overused regional simile, thick as chowder. People have waited impatiently for two weeks, lapping up the insanely plentiful news coverage which only served as a whit for a pack of Patriots fans rabidly awaiting the ultimate American showdown.

Men everywhere strut as if they were Tom Brady, their chests puffed with the knowing that the eyes of the world will be on our surrogate warriors who vanquished armies across the country all season long and are poised to win as they altercate with their designated foes in a modern-day Civil War reenactment. To the victor goes acclaim, an elevated sense of superiority; to the defeated goes profound anger and national humiliation.

Women openly admit their lust for Tom Brady to reporters with cameras. "In Tom Brady's bed!" an overweight Revere native chortled to a reporter who asked where she wanted to be after the game. "I will marry Tom Brady," an Abercrombie-esque woman matter-of-factly told another reporter. "Tom Brady will win on Sunday because he's blessed, and the women of New England are blessed too" still another rambled.

I have a bad feeling about this game for the Patriots. They are valiant underdogs, but are headed to the Super Bowl as the favorites. The urgency and desperation which drove them to this point in the season and to victory two years ago may have abated amid the lavish press attention and fanfare.

 

****Cotton Ears

This morning as I awoke, my ears rang and noises sounded muffled and distant. I cursed myself for not wearing ear plugs to that show last night... wait. Despite what the condition of my ears may indicate, I didn't go to a show last night. I went Bukowskis in Inman Square, a bar where the music is always blaring at painful decibels.

I hate to sound like a fogey here, but I didn't go to a bar so I could listen to a caterwauling Yeah Yeah Yeahs CD. There's a noise threshold for bars, because people hate waking up with hung-over ears.

 

****Spelling Foible

Out of all of the months, I am most prone to misspell "February." Common attempts include "Febuary," "Febrary", and "March."

 

 

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