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June 30, 2006
Take Me Out To The Ballgame
With the holiday weekend approaching and major league baseball about to enter it's ridiculous, silly, pander-to-New York interleague play (tell me that anyone outside of the tri-state area gives a rat's tuckus about any of the games this weekend? The only reason MLB engages in this ridiculous exercise is so that New York can salivate all over itself and mess its diapers over their precious "subway series."), I thought it appropriate to share my selections for the starters in the all-star game.
Fan voting -- which is the second biggest debacle in baseball, next to interleague play -- is silly, childish, and need to be eliminated; MLB actually encourages ballot-stuffing for the home-ers by sending out e-mails reminding fans that their local nine need their votes... never mind if the starting 3b is the game's biggest choke artist, or the home team's catcher is batting .253. Fan voting is little more than a prom queen popularity contest for grown men, and it goes beyond insipidness. If you play in a large city -- say, New York, Boston, maybe L.A. or Chicago -- you're going to get a boatload of votes, whether you're batting .330 or .230. Or, alternately, if you have good marketing consultants working for you and you've picked up a national reputation, you get votes based on people liking your commercials... or identifying with the country you're from... or thinking your butt looks good in those baseball pants. They should be calling this game "The Popularity Exhibition," because that's really all it is.
But that said, if they're gonna let fans vote, I'm gonna vote. Someone has to try and keep the balloting honest and vote for actual deserving players. So without further ado, here are my choices for the real all-star teams -- AL today, NL later this weekend:
American League:
1B: Justin Morneau, Minnesota Twins Quietly batting .288 with 19 home runs and 64 RBI on one of the game's hottest teams. Doesn't get enough attention playing in small-market Minnesota. The fans have voted for my boy, Big Papi David Ortiz... don't get me wrong, I love Papi; he's the best clutch hitter in a generation and was the true AL MVP last season (Alex Rodriguez somehow winning the award over Papi goes down as one of the five greatest MVP ripoffs in baseball history). But Papi doesn't play first base unless he has to. Voting for him at 1B is like voting for RuPaul as Best Actor. Sure, technically he's a he... but he hasn't played that position in years. Same with Papi (sorry, big man... if it's any consolation, my first son may well be named Ortiz). Morneau gets the nod. (Backups: Ortiz -- have to get his bat in there somewhere; Paul Konerko, Chicago White Sox -- .316/19/61)
2B: Tadahito Iguchi, Chicago White Sox. More RBI than any other second baseman, and only one AL second baseman has more home runs. Plus, he's batting .296 -- which ain't bad. The fans have voted for the Yankees' Robinson Cano, based in part on his .325 average and his playing for the Yankees. They can be forgiven for one half of that. But the all-star is Iguchi. (Backups: Cano; Ronnie Belliard, Cleveland -- .288/5/34)
3B: Joe Crede, Chicago White Sox. Anyone who thinks that choke artist extraordinaire Alex Rodriguez belongs in this spot probably thinks there were really WMD in Iraq. Crede has hit only two fewer HRs than Pay-Rod, has 54 RBI to Rodriguez' 55, and is batting .302 to A-Rod's .279. Plus, Crede actually hits when his team needs him to. He's the all-star; Rodriguez is an overpaid fraud. The fans are jackassed idiots for voting for that smarmy, choking piece of garbage. (Backups: Mike Lowell, Boston -- .307/9/40; Hank Blalock, Texas -- .290/11/54)
SS: Derek Jeter, New York Yankees. I hate to give any Yankee any credit for anything -- especially Jeter. But, Jeter is one of two Yankees whom Red Sox fans actually respect (the other being Hideki Matsui), and let's face it: he's having a great season. Batting .331 with 5 HR, 46 RBI and 15 SB. It burns like acid to have to say this, but he's the starting SS this year. (Backups: Miguel Tejada, Baltimore -- .321/16/57; Orlando Cabrera, LA Angels -- .305/5/44/12 SB)
Catcher: Joe Mauer, Minnesota Twins. My favorite baseball player is the Red Sox' Jason Varitek, and I really want to vote for him here. But there is no way that any sane baseball fan can do anything here but vote for the guy batting .392 (leading the league and chasing a 65 year old record!), which is hard enough for any player to do... but a catcher leading the league in batting and chasing .400??? Amazing season from a 23 year old kid who's only going to get better. (Backups: Ramon Hernandez, Baltimore -- .287/15/59; Ivan Rodriguez, Detroit -- .301/7/38, but who gets my vote for how he's handling a very young pitching staff in Detroit)
OF: Manny Ramirez, Boston; Ichiro Suzuki, Seattle; Vernon Wells, Toronto. Manny being Manny means 40 home runs and 120 RBI every year; he'll do it again this year. Ichiro is the most amazing pure hitter of this generation... he's batting .358 again this year, has 25 steals, and is one of the best defensive outfielders in the game. Wells is enjoying a breakout season in Toronto, batting .313 with 20 HRs and 62 RBI. He's keeping Toronto in the playoff hunt. There are others whom you can make a case for, but my votes go to these three. (Backups: Magglio Ordonez, Detroit -- .313/15/57; Jermaine Dye, Chicago -- .306/20/54; Alex Rios, Toronto -- .330/15/53.)
Starting pitcher: Johan Santana, Minnesota. 9-4, 2.59 ERA, 124 strikeouts... and this guy's notoriously better in the second half??? Freaking scary, how good this kid is. (Backups: Justin Verlander, Detroit, 10-4/3.13/65 Ks; Curt Schilling, Boston, 10-2/3.54/102 Ks; Scott Kazmir, Tampa Bay, 9-5/3.59/108 Ks; Roy Halladay, Toronto, 10-2/3.22/62 Ks; Mike Mussina, New York Yankees, 9-3/3.28/100 Ks; Barry Zito, Oakland, 8-4/3.46/85 Ks.)
Reliever: Jonathan Papelbon, Boston. The runaway Roookie of the Year in the American League has 23 saves in 25 chances, a miniscule 0.46 ERA, and has 41 strikeouts in 39 innings. He's become a monster, and is a major reason the Red Sox are in first place. Not even a question here. (Backups: Bobby Jenks, Chicago -- 24 saves/2.48 ERA/42 Ks; BJ Ryan, Toronto -- 21 saves/0.47 ERA/45 Ks; Mariano Rivera, New York Yankees -- 17 saves/1.88 ERA/32 Ks; Joe Nathan, Minnesota -- 13 saves/1.91 ERA/47 Ks.)
Coming soon... the National League.
Posted by Christopher at 07:58 AM | Comments (9) | TrackBackJune 29, 2006
Glass Half Over
When I was a kid, I thought that I wanted to be Carlton Fisk when I grew up. For a while in my late teens and early 20s, I wanted to be Joe Elliott. Then, I was going to be John F. Kennedy or Robert Kennedy. Then, I was going to be F. Scott Fitzgerald. Needless to say, I ended up being none of them. I'm just me.
At some point in the past month, I quietly turned 38. Very few people knew, and those who did are close enough to me that they knew better than to make much of a fuss. So they didn't. Which I am happy about. It was just a day, really. That's how I've always preferred it: no one saying anything, no one doing anything, no one even knowing. It's just a day. (To the point that I do not tell people, until they've become very, very good friends, when the actual day is. I'm fine with other people's birthdays, but we will not celebrate or acknowledge mine. In the context of this post, we're mentioning it because it was cause for self-reflection... and for no other reason.)
Wow. I am now 38. The average male in the United States lives to be about 74.8 years. So now there's no even fudging with numbers; if I am an average American male, my life is now officially half over. For a number of notable people -- Charlotte Bronte, Sam Kinison, George Gershwin, Malcolm X, Dennis WIlson, and John F. Kennedy Jr., to name just a few -- 38 proved to be not half time but the final buzzer. It makes one think, anyway.
It's perhaps fitting with my glass-half-empty, curmudgeonly persona that instead of looking at the things I have done or accomplished -- and there are quite a few things I ought to be justifiably proud about -- I have instead been pondering all the things I haven't done, or all the failures. No need to go into them all, or the greatest regrets that I have; even someone with a public blog has to keep some thoughts to himself. But I did a lot of thinking while I was in Europe about my life to date, the life I always thought I'd have or that I thought I wanted, and the things I wanted to do with myself.
If I were judging myself on the aspirations of my youth, I'd find myself lacking, I suppose, having never become any of those guys I once thought I'd be. And the domestic route proved not to work out for me, I guess, as well... the whole Mrs. Mudge concept... not so good; and there are no mini-Mudges running around being trucked to soccer practice or getting sent to their rooms or being helped with their homework; at this point I am inclined to believe that there never will be. Which is okay, because for the most part I still behave and live as if I were a kid myself (well, except for the fact that I can't stay out all night anymore). As for my creative side, generally when creative types "sell out," they do so to get rich. I sold out to corporate-dom, but I'm sure as hell not rich, and it's clear that they'll never make me rich -- which sometimes makes me wonder just what it is that I sold out to or for.
Yeah, if I were inclined to dwell on things at the halfway mark, I might not be so chipper. But you know what? On Broadway, the first number after intermission is always the showstopper. The opening of Act II is in many shows the biggest moment of the musical. I see no reason why that can't be the case in life as well.
When one observes one's life and finds it lacking for any reason, there are two options. You could become depressed/saddened by all that you haven't done, don't have, or miss. Or, you can proactively take the actions required to make the changes you'd like to see.
It's going to be a fun year.
Posted by Christopher at 05:12 AM | Comments (12)A Great Day In The History of Nudity
It's not quite the full monty pictorial that is her destiny. But the Queen of the Trailer Parks, Britney Spears, has taken the next step in her progression toward the best selling issue of Playboy ever. She's posed nude -- and six months pregnant with the unholy spawn of Federline -- for Harper's Bazaar. (Airbrushers everywhere can take pride in the work of their professional compatriots at HB.)
Not wishing to dare risk contact from the magazine's publishers (more accurately, their lawyers), I won't be reposting the images here. But here's a link to someone who opted to (heh huh heh heh huh). Britney... honey... just a couple more years, a big comeback album, and a divorce from one freedloading embarrassment bum, and your PB pictorial's all set. Keep up the good work (i.e., not singing, just posing).
Posted by Christopher at 05:10 AM | Comments (5) | TrackBackLet God Sort 'Em Out
Anyone else besides me just completely sick of the Middle East? It's virtually impossible anymore to find white knights or good guys over there; the world could be excused for throwing up its hands and exclaiming in exasperation that no one in that part of the world wants peace anyway, so we're going to write you all off and let you kill each other.
This week's events are more of the "same as it ever was" that you always get in that part of the world. Early in the week, there were reports that Fatah and Hamas were about to ink an agreement that implicitly recognized Israel's right to exist. Not the solution to everything, but certainly a positive step in bringing stability to the region. So naturally, this week Israel has escalated military action in Gaza, conducting multiple missile attacks and making mass arrests (including about 20 Hamas members of the Palestinian cabinet), in response to the kidnapping of a soldier. This action virtually assures that Hamas will dig its heels in, revert to its militaristic, terroristic roots, and whatever window might have been opened with the tentative agreement is likely closed.
This isn't a rant against Israel. I'm sure the next time, Israel will make some conciliatory move, and it will be the Palestinian side that reacts with some action that will slam the door shut on peace and ensure more fighting and bloodshed. It just seems to be the raison d'etre in that part of the world to take olive brances, fashion them into spears, and impale one another with them. Doesn't matter which side you're on. The only constant is an element on each side that simply does not want peace under any circumstances other than complete and total victory.
And that's exhausting to many of us in the rest of the world who would like nothing more than for the Star of David and the Crescent to be raised together in peace.
(Oh - and for the record... despite the presence of extremists on both sides who argue that you cannot even criticize the actions of a government without it somehow reflecting prejudice against the governed, I am neither a Zionist nor an anti-Semite... just as it is possible to criticize the US government's actions without being anti-American, it is possible to criticize the Israeli government without being anti-Israel or anti-Semitic, and it is possible to criticize the Palestinian Authority or Parliament -- or the actions of extremist groups among the community -- without being anti-Palestinian or anti-Arab or anti-Muslim.
I know far too many "Israel is/the Palestinians are always right" types who simply will not accept any other position than 100% lockstep agreement. To those on each side, I say, you'll find no quarter here. To my mind, both sides have earned equal criticism and neither side is above reproach when it comes to making peace work. Extreme jingoism -- whether here in the States among conservatives, or among Israel's supporters, or in tsupport of Palestinians -- is something I disdain and always will, no matter its source. Everyone is open for criticism, at any time, for anything.)
Posted by Christopher at 05:09 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBackJune 28, 2006
Distraction
In the Middle East, corrupt and incompetent governments in many Arab countries use demagoguery to distract their citizens from their own failures and crimes. It's much easier to demonize Israel and exploit emotions regarding the United States... and they do so in the weak and pathetic hope that their people will be so intense in their misdirected emotions that they'll fail to question the government's crackdown on individual rights and freedoms, assaults on a free press, violations of basic human rights, and forget to hold the government accountable for broad inequities in wealth, the existence of a permanent underclass at whose expense wealth is acquired by the few, and fundamental failures of leadership.
In the United States, the corrupt and incompetent government, and the Republican Party it represents, uses demagoguery to distract our citizens from their own failures and crimes. It's much easier to demonize gays and exploit emotions regarding the United States... and the Republicans do so in the weak and pathetic hope that Americans will be so intense in their misdirected emotions that they'll fail to question the Bush Administration's crackdown on individual rights and freedoms, assaults on a free press, violations of basic human rights, and forget to hold Republicans accountable for broad inequities in wealth, the existence of a permanent underclass at whose expense wealth is acquired by the few, and fundamental failures of Republican leadership.
Everything you ever need to know about the Republican Party, and conservatives in general, is this: when gasoline priced have increased by more than 50% in the last year or so, when our government stands accused by the world of human rights violations, when our government led us into a war on false pretenses, when jobs continue to disappear, concerns about the strength of our economy abound, when ethics scandals plague Republicans virtually continuously... when there are all sorts of issues that deeply impact the lives of the American people that need to be addressed... the Republicans are making it their highest priority to introduce Constitutional amendment on the symbolic but meaningless issues of gay marriage and flag burning.
They have nothing to offer you on any issue of substance, so they hope to distract you with demagoguery and symbolism. Kind of reminds you of a few other governments in history, doesn't it?
The fact is, this kind of demagoguery and cowardice is a disgrace to the very ethos of America. Those practicing it are shameful; only those who are feeble-minded enough to fall for it are more shameful. And if you honestly, truly believe that the most important issues this nation has to face right now are who can get married and what a few bedraggled hippies do with a flag, then yes... you are a feeble-minded disgrace to our nation and its ideals. Not only should we expect better of our leadership; we must expect better of ourselves. And anyone falling for the Republican agenda is failing us all.
Posted by Christopher at 07:35 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBackGet Well, Peter Gammons
Peter Gammons, baseball reporter for ESPN and who has been elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame Writers' Wing, is recovering in a Boston hospital after suffering a brain aneurysm on Tuesday. The 61 year old Gammons is expected to be in the hospital for another couple of weeks.
Gammons is the best known baseball writer of his generation, as the article points out, and is one of the main reasons to watch ESPN's "Baseball Tonight"; he's one of the most insightful reporters in sports, and is so well connected in the game that he has insider information in almost every report. He's an extraordinarily talented reporter who successfully made the switch from newspapers to TV, but never lost his brilliance behind a keyboard. If I had followed another of my muses and become a sportswriter, I'd want to write like Peter Gammons. And 61 is too soon to lose him.
Get well soon, Peter.
Posted by Christopher at 06:05 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBackDammit, Spain!
Of course it would happen like this. Of course, when I finally start watching soccer and actually caring what happens in it, I would pick the team that has a long history of futility and never living up to expectations. It fits with my sporting character, being a Red Sox fan and all.
I quickly learned while in Europe last week that Spain has a history of, how shall I put this... gagging like a White House intern on the World Cup stage. They've got one of the most well reputed and competitive regular season leagues, one of the sport's glory franchises in Real Madrid, and some of the best players on the planet.... but for whatever reason, Spain haven't even been to the semi-finals in 76 years. They're always good, and they always find a way to lose when they shouldn't. They're famous for it.
Ah, but this year, maybe it would be different. This year, Spain was looking strong. They dominated Ukraine 4-0 in their opener, looked very good against Tunisia in winning 3-1... maybe this was going to be the year that things were different. Especially when Spain drew for their first match in the round of 16 a struggling France team that had to stretch to even reach the round, it seemed like this might be Spain's year to make a run. And having fallen so hard for Spain as a country and the Spaniards as a people, I embraced the team fully, started cheering for them to win, and even made plans to buy a Spain jersey if I ever found one while shopping there (I didn't).
So of course, Spain went into yesterday's game looking like the stronger side, and of course they lost to France, 3-1. And my adopted team is now out of the World Cup. Dammit.
Go England!
Posted by Christopher at 05:11 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBackJune 26, 2006
Welcome To My Nightmare
Courtesy of Pete, who posted this over at A Perfectly Cromulent Blog while I was in Europe.... ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the single most terrifying minute of my childhood.
I was 37 years old before I finally saw the Mr. Yuk PSA the whole way from beginning to end. The reason for that was that this commercial -- ostensibly designed to make little kids aware of the poison sticker and avoid it -- used to send me into paroxysms of sheer and utter terror when it aired in the early 70s. My six or seven year old self would run screaming hysterically from the living room whenever this commercial even began; that opening with the surreal music, the psychedelic swirls and the evil laugh were enough to scare the living bejesus out of me. No one had to worry about me drinking something from under the counter with that sticker on it. Hell, I wouldn't even go in the same room as anything with Mr. Yuk on it. I'm not kidding, I had night terrors from this f'n commercial for about two years.
And so it was that it was only last week that I finally watched the PSA the whole way through. And I can only conclude after having watched it that the creative minds behind it were sick, evil people who delighted in the idea of torturing small children under the guise of protecting them. Bastards.
And Pete? Thanks for the reminder of my greatest childhood fear while I was sitting in a strange hotel room in a foreign country. I'll be sending you a bill for the extra underwear I had to buy.
Posted by Christopher at 07:16 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBackSounds Worth Saving: #8-#6
I've been away, and this list has dragged on waaaaaay too long. I'll just skim through the next few.
#8: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, The Beatles, 1967 I know some make the case that the Beach Boys' Pet Sounds was just as groundbreaking, if not moreso; personally, if I have to listen to classic rock I am far more inclined to the Rolling Stones than the Beatles -- though I did go through a massive Beatles phase when I was a teen. But Brian Wilson and Mick & Keith aside, the Sgt. Pepper's album remains as a classic work of musical art, a psychedelic reflection of its time, and an example of musicians advancing their genre in leaps and not steps.
#7: Franklin D. Roosevelt's First Inaugural Address, 1933 FDR took office at a point where the Great Depression was so bad, so dire, and hope so lost that many people legitimately believed that democracy had failed as an experiment and would not survive in the United States. Roosevelt took office at one of those crossroads moments in history where great people must embrace their greatness, and he did not disappoint. He brought hope, faith, optimism, and courage back to the American people; he restored economic confidence and, it can be argued, saved democracy. His inaugural address, with the famous line "The only thing we have to fear... is fear itself," set the tone for the remainder of his administration. It remains one of the more important speeches in US history.
#6: Reagan's address to the nation after the Challenger accident, 1986 Whatever I might otherwise think of Ronald Reagan, there is no question that he was the most skilled orator of a political generation. And whatever I might think of Peggy Noonan's politics, she stands as the greatest speechwriter of the last quarter century. As someone who's worked as a speechwriter, I have to respect her ability to turn a phrase and her skill at using rhetoric. And on this sad occasion, the great speaker and the great speechwriter reached their greatest moment together.
Addressing a nation reeling from the loss of the Challenger on live television, Reagan played the role Americans need a president to play from time to time: he was the comforting, wise father-figure, reassuring us and simultaneously sharing and easing our pain. The passage that directly addressed America's schoolchildren who had witnessed the explosion but were too young to process it was absolutely brilliant; Reagan feels to the listener like our grandfather at that moment. He eloquently remembered the crew of the shuttle and their bravery, and managed to restore faith in the space program in that five minute speech -- not an easy task, when you consider the aftermath of the second shuttle disaster.
With the exception of the gratuitous swipe at the Soviet Union (about how we have our accidents in public and don't try to hide them), every word in this speech still touches me today. As a speechwriter, I know we all wish for someone as gifted to deliver our words. Noonan was never better, never more evocative, and never reached so swiftly and closely for the hearts of her audience. And the closing line, "We will never forget them... nor the last time we saw them, this morning as they prepared for their journey and waved goodbye... and, slipped the surly bonds of Earth to touch the face of God," is so beautiful, so powerful, and so eloquent that I wish I'd written it. Listen to the whole speech here.
Posted by Christopher at 06:45 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBackJune 25, 2006
Random Thoughts After Two Weeks: US Version
Thoughts on happenings here in the States that occurred while I was away:
1. Schadenfreude. I've never been a fan of Shaquille O'Neal. I think he's overrated as a basketball player (put him more than five feet from the basket and he ceases to be a threat; it's true that he could be dominant in his prime, but that's due to genetics and not skillz), and his tendency toward self-aggrandizement and self-inflation can be annoying as all hell. (For example, referring to Dwyane Wade and claiming that "I knew when I came here that I had to take this young fella to the next level." Um, big guy? Wade carried your ass. All year, as a matter of fact, not just in the playoffs. You didn't take him to the next level, he pulled you back up to his.)
That said, I have put my dislike of Shaq aside and am mightily celebrating the Miami Heat's winning the NBA championship this week. I'm thrilled. I couldn't be happier. Why? Because right now, a certain rapist in Los Angeles is likley gnawing apart his own liver in a jealous rage as a result. And anything that makes Kobe Bryant miserable is something that makes me gleeful. Guess what, Kobe? Shaq has another ring! He won another world title -- without you! Your "it's all about me" team got bounced from the playoffs in one round, but Shaq went all the way back to the promised land. People think he's a champion, and that you're a selfish loser! Ha! I say. Ha!
2. Connie Chung commits murder. If there was anything left to her once-high flying career, Connie Chung killed it this week. No, she didn't just kill it; she bloodily dismembered it, Manson family-style. I don't know what the hell she was thinking... but journalists generally don't maintain credibility -- or hell, dignity -- by performing off-key musical numbers while in evening gowns, trying to play Marilyn Monroe but looking like Marla Hooch. I mean - her dismount from the piano was as clumsy as anything attempted in showbiz since David Letterman's "Oprah... Uma" joke at the Oscars a decade ago. If you haven't seen it, and if you're very brave, click here.
3. Fever. Now, the most prestigious and pre-eminent scientific body in the United States, the National Academy of Sciences, has endorsed a simple fact that any of us not involved in the Bush Administration have known through observation for a long time now: global warming is real, the earth is warmer now than it has been in 2,000 years, and humans and our activities are largely to blame. Better yet, the report was asked for by a Republican in the House, so it's difficult to charge bias (which is every conservative's automatic fallback position on every issue) when it's your own report.
What will be interesting to see is how the Bush Administration -- which has pathologically and habitualy distorted and suppressed science for its own political aims since seizing power in 2000 -- will twist, suppress or distort the findings of its own government in this report. Meanwhile, the danger to the planet keeps growing...
4. Hypocrisy. Isn't it funny how Dick Cheney -- the man who went to the Supreme Court to try and avoid having to let the people of the United States know even who was on his Energy Task Force, much less what its activities were -- is now out there trying to argue that allowing his government to search your private bank records, without your consent or even knowledge, is a perfectly legitimate use of government power?
Actually, it's not funny. It's sad. And it's just another example of how hypocritical and dangerous that man and his puppet in the White House are.
Posted by Christopher at 03:44 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBackRandom Thoughts After Two Weeks: Euro-Version
As my two week combination business/pleasure trip to Europe comes to a close, I have a few random thoughts to share - some on Europe, some on developments in the States. I'll share the European ones first.
1. Soccer's kinda cool when you watch it over there. Soccer goes against all US sports logic --you cheer when your team almost scores? they run around for 90 minutes and 0-0 is considered a great game? But after two weeks of seeing the crowds and feeling the passion they have for this game, I have to tell you -- despite every US-centric bone in my body not wanting to -- I have decided that I like football. I don't understand the rules, but anything that can inpsire that much excitement in its fans is something I want to be part of. (Also, all of my new friends in London are very into English football, obviously, and I'll need to be keeping that as a common point to discuss with them.)
2. Picasso was a freaking genius. Okay, I actually really do like much of his stuff, and I think the Guernica is an incredibly powerful work. And I do enjoy Cubism from a purely aesthetic sense. But the reason I label Picasso a genius is simply this concept: Talk dozens of babes into taking off their clothes and modeling nude for you for hours, days, weeks at a time... and the finished product need look nothing at all like an actual woman? That, my friends, is an art form. High freaking art, if you ask me. (I'm thinking of taking up Picasso-esque blogging, by the way... any women readers willing to model in such fashion to provide proper inspiration should mention their willingness in the comment field below or via e-mail, and we'll make arrangements.)
3. God bless fashion. I don't know if I know much more than I did before these past two weeks. I don't know if I am a better person or anything. And my fashion sense has likely not improved much, at least concerning men's fashion. Regarding womens' fashion, I don't know whether it started in Europe or the US, and frankly, I don't care. All I know is that this whole midriff-baring-shirt/low-waisted, hipbone-baring pants look for women must never, ever go out of style. Ever. Any designer who tries to do something different than this look, or every tut-tutting spinster or preacher who disapproves must be dealt with using extreme prejudice. If you know what I mean. Anywhoo...
4. Of the countries I visited, I have to say that I love Spain the most -- although England was also a great time and I made more friends there (the whole speaking the same language thing probably factors in there, huh?).
5. After nearly a week in London, it gives me great pleasure to say, "Drive on the right side of the road, will ya?" I can't tell you how many times I nearly got plastered to some Brit's windshield because, out of habit, I looked right instead of left to see if cars were coming before I crossed a side street.
6. Moment of Surreality: Sitting in the lobby bar/restaurant of a Paris hotel and seeing John Ritter (dubbed, of course) on TV... not Three's Company, of course, but his last sitcom. Of course, the translation of the show's title cuts right to the actual point of the sentiment. "8 Simple Rules For Dating My Teenage Daughter" translates simply into "Don't Touch My Daughter." Much more direct and to the point. Reminds me of the time when I was a junior in high school and the father of one of my dates, upon meeting me for the first time, simply said "I've been to jail already, so I don't mind going back for knocking the hell out of you for doing anything more than kissing my daughter. Are we clear?" I was speechless enough not to ask if he actually had been to jail.
7. American tourists live up to every negative stereotype ever ascribed to us. Everywhere I went, in every country, if you heard someone being obnoxiously loud, they were American. If you observed someone being embarrassingly rude, invariably they turned out to be American. I saw Americans wearing t-shirts with such ambassadorial slogans as "What the f**k are you looking at?" while walking near Big Ben, "You Ain't Had Nothin' Like This" near the Arc de Triomphe, and my personal favorite, "Dangerous Curves" on a woman in St. James Park who easily dwarfed my 250 pound frame by at least another 100. (And yes, she did have a southern US accent, so I knew she was American.)
Which brings me to another point; after observing tourists from all over the world in the last couple of weeks, my experience is that we really are as fat as everyone says we are. Invariably, if you saw anyone (myself included) with a belly or weighing obviously more than they should, it was inevitable that they were speaking English in an American accent. It was amazing to see; literally every overweight person I saw appeared and sounded to be American. Loud, rude, fat, and boorish... after wandering Europe for two weeks observing American tourists, I now understand exactly why those stereotypes are applied to us -- because in my observation and experience, we totally resemble those remarks.
8. America's Dorkiest Home Video. While leisurely making my way back to my hotel in Paris one night last week, I noticed a cool light show thing happening on the Eiffel Tower. I was motivated to take some quick video of the tower and my surroundings. The fact that I am not very articulate and sound like an exhausted American sot notwithstanding, here's a little video of the Eiffel Tower and Arc d'Triomphe from late last week.
Posted by Christopher at 03:43 AM | Comments (10) | TrackBackJune 09, 2006
On The Road Again... I Just Can't Wait To Get On The Road Again..
Since mid-February, I've been on this crazy stretch at work where there's been an unusual amount of travel involved. That run comes to one heck of a conclusion this month, as I leave this afternoon for a two week business trip through western Europe. I'll be in London, Paris, Madrid, and London again before I get home in a couple of weeks.
I still might blog a little bit from the road, although I doubt I'll have much time. I will probably turn off comments altogether; my spamment infestation has not abated, and in fact the bastards even figured out I'd put in extra blocks on their commenting, so I got 140 trackback spams last night... and in two weeks, the odds are that I'd probably return to 2500 or more spamments. I just don't feel like dealing with it. And because I am remarkably un-technical, I wasn't yet able to figure out how to install authentication on Movable Type (every time I tried, it kept telling me when I tried to do test comments that "the author has not enabled this function," and wouldn't let anyone comment at all)... so the easiest solution will be to turn off comments. Anyway, that's just blog minutae to warn you that you might not be able to comment for a couple of weeks if I take the nuclear option to get rid of the little insects.
Thanks to my whirlwind immersion in the blogerati this spring through conferences and seminars, I've gotten to know a lot of people in the blog world and now count them among my friends... so I now have people to see outside of the office when in London and Paris. That part alone just makes me shake my head; that this very blog you're reading right now managed to eventually lead to my having friends in England and France -- some of them among the most influential bloggers in Europe. Ever see the Sesame Street skit about "one of these things is not like the other?" Yeah, it's like that. But I'll still enjoy seeing them. So there's some fun on this trip as well.
Anyway, this is a lot of navel gazing that I'm subjecting you to, all just to tell you that I'll probably be silent for the next couple of weeks. (Don't stop checking back, though -- I might just surprise you and drop a quick post or two on you!) If we don't blog together, have a great June, everyone.
Posted by Christopher at 06:06 AM | Comments (0)June 08, 2006
Zarqawi Doin'?
So al-Qaeda's top man in Iraq, Abu Musab Zarqawi, is apparently dead this morning, killed in an American bombing raid. You'll pardon me if I don't proclaim "Oh frubjous day!" and pull a muscle while celebrating too vigorously and acting like this is a huge deal.
First of all and out front, I am glad when anyone belonging to the infestation that is al Qaeda dies. It's not that I have any sympathy for Zarqawi, it's just that I don't see his "termination" as the massive victory the administration will surely play it as.
For starters, Zarqawi is not Osama bin Laden. You remember him? The guy who five years ago organized and financed the murder of more than 3,000 innocent people? The guy George W. Bush swore would be captured "dead or alive?" Unfortunately, W's promise turned out to be hollow, as he discarded his pursuit of bin Laden for a futile and unrelated oil war in Iraq; he was like a kid on Christmas morning, excited about all the new toys for 20 minutes, then going back to play with his old favorite while leaving the shiny new toys abandoned under the tree. You want me to celebrate the death of an al-Qaeda figure as a major -- if merely symbolic -- US victory? Get bin Laden. (And not in October as a desperate act of political salvation, either.)
Secondly, while Zarqawi is was a henious, evil terrorist who created chaos and sowed death, let's not forget that he did so in an arena of George W. Bush's creation. Bush's false premise-based invasion of Iraq in 2003 caused the vaccuum in which Zarqawi thrived; had we all not been misled into war by a lying president, Zarqawi would likely have never reached the zenith that he did as a terrorist leading figure. Hell, had we actually, you know, finished the job we started and actually carried out a war on terror/al Qaeda instead of splitting our forces and resources in the false war, it's possible we'd have killed Zarqawi three years ago. There's nothing like deliberately spilling milk, then wanting credit for breaking out the paper towels and mopping it up, eh W?
But finally, here's the thing -- the most tragic thing about the missed opportunity Bush's war cost us: al Qaeda doesn't stop. The death of one figure isn't going to impact their operations. Even bin Laden's death, which I admittedly openly cheerlead for, would be laregly symbolic and wouldn't put an end to the threat or the attacks. The only way to ever stop al Qaeda is to 1) exterminate every last damn one of the existing members from the face of the Earth (which we opted not to pursue in favor of Bush's phony war), and 2) address the root causes that lead young men to join fundamentalist terror groups in the first place (i.e., the conduct of Middle Eastern governments for their own self-enrichment and self-preservation at the expense of their people, the clamp-downs on freedom and opportunity, the abject poverty that their own governments cause -- all while conveniently scapegoating Israel and the US for their issues and turning a knowing but blind eye at Wa'habism and other hatred-fostering movements).
The death of Abu Masab al-Zarqawi doesn't accomplish that. It may give Bush and his administration a trophy to parade out to the world; I'm sure this morning's press conference will be filled with testosterone-laden talk about how this proves that we will hunt down the evil-doers wherever they are and eventually bring them to justice. But in the end, nothing in Iraq will change for his being dead. The violence will continue; the insurgency will keep attacking US forces. And we still created the vaccuum in which he operated and they continue to operate.
No trophy kill changes those basic facts.
Posted by Christopher at 07:16 AM | Comments (6) | TrackBackJune 06, 2006
Oh Brother
My brother John and I were your typical brothers separated by just a couple of years; that is to say, we didn't get along in the slightest when we were kids. To make matters worse, we were polar opposites of one another: one outgoing, gregarious, into sports, and totally into the whole high school popularity thing, and the other introverted, quiet, bookish, who couldn't give a whit about sports or about what anyone thought, he was just going to do his thing.
Our nearness in age combined with our contrasting personalities meant that not only were we going to clash like closely spaced brothers do, but that there would be little common ground upon which to bond. Our interactions from about 1979 to 1985 followed a remarkably consistent pattern: younger deliberately annoys older, older responds with some cruelly demeaning taunt, which goads younger into further antgaonization... repeat, rinse, escalate until older whales on younger, thus getting older in trouble for supposedly knowing better (which as the older one, I was allegedly supposed to do). Our brief fraternal moments over our teenage years were rare and fleeting, ended all the more quickly because both of us were embarrased at having dropped the guard for a moment.
But a funny thing happened during the 1990s: we grew up. After having spent the 70s in an uneasy truce and the 80s alternately warring with or ignoring one another, all of a sudden we liked each other. It was gradual at first; when I moved to Washington it was two years before he came to visit. But when he did, all of a sudden we had a great time, and then we starting hanging out together when I would go home to visit. By the time he moved to the east coast a few years later, we were actually -- gasp! -- enjoying hanging out, and were bummed that I was leaving DC for grad school just as he arrived. And in the ensuing years, while we've both been in the same time zone but never in the same city, we've become incredibly close. Funny how that happens, huh?
In the last seven years, we've been there for each other literally with a phone call; when one needs the other, the needed is usually on a train or a plane within 36 hours to go to the needer's aid. When I stood up with him a couple of years ago at his wedding, he was the one who pulled me aside mid-reception to check on my emotions, knowing that less than a week prior, everything had fallen apart on my end (thus resulting in my being suddenly and conspicuously solo)... on his biggest day, he was worried about whether I was okay. When our parents have battled various illnesses or crises in the last five years, we've talked through taking care of them and acted together to do the right thing by them; in almost the same breaths, we play PlayStation against each other and take boyish glee in killing each other in spite of the stated mission of the game being that we're supposed to work together.
We still engage in amusing, if childish, competition; he's reached a high level of success in his field as well, and our phone conversations are often pathetic, yet friendly and respectful brotherly attempts at one-upsmanship. "I just had an article published in XYZ." "Oh really? Awesome! Well, I just gave the keynote address at blar blar blar conference." "Yeah? That's cool. You know, I was just asked to guest lecture at Georgetown." "That's so great! I just got interviewed by the BBC." And so on. We hear how obnoxious we sound, but what no one else but us understands is that we drive each other, in the good way now instead of like when we were kids. We're brothers, and we compete with one another. Some things never change. But wistfully, some things do.
I saw my brother in DC this past weekend for likely the last time in a long while. His company's sending him and his wife on an overseas assignment, and they won't be back for a couple of years. There might be an occasional holiday visit to the States by them, and I'm going to have one hell of an exotic vacation to blog about next April... but outside of that, it's going to be 2009 before we can spend weekends blowing up targets on PlayStation or enjoying martinis and cigars at the Mayflower Hotel lounge. I'm leaving for a long business trip to Europe on Friday, and when I get home they'll be gone. True to form, when John learned that I'd not be home for their departure, and knowing that I've been spending savings on movers and such expenses, he simply bought me a ticket to DC for the weekend (without asking me; he just did it and told me after the fact) and told me he wanted to spend one last weekend hanging out.
Every now and then my brother stops by this blog just to check out whatever rant I've been on most recently. And I just wanted to tell him -- and the rest of the world -- that I'm proud as hell of him, and of who he's become, and of all he's accomplished. No one would have known it when we were kids, bro, but as it's turned out you're my best friend, and I'm gonna miss the hell out of you when you're gone.
Come home soon, little brother.
John, Mudge & a friend in Old Town Alexandria, VA, 6/06
The Bad 80s Video War Is... OVER
Corey... you can't beat this. It's over. I win. Ladies and gentlemen... William Shatner's interpretation of "Rocket Man."
And I'm gonna be.... HIIIIIIGH as a kite by then.
(removed for lack of storage)
Posted by Christopher at 08:12 PM | Comments (8) | TrackBackHappy Evil Day!!!
As it's impossible not to know by now, today is 6-6-06. As in 6-6-6, the number the superstitious of the world seem to honestly believe as the number of the Anti-Christ. So in theory, today is Evil Day.
The sad and pathetic Hollywood remake of 1976's classic "The Omen" opens today. In the movie, a couple is tormented by bearing the son of the devil. In the sad and pathetic real world, there are reports of pregnant women taking drastic steps to avoid giving birth today and thus inviting the same fate.
Dolores Huhn is nine months pregnant, and says as a Christian she feels protected from 666. "I mean there's some evil associated with that number of course," she said. But ask her husband Jesse, and he'll tell you he doesn't want a delivery day tainted by Satan... "I'm hoping that the baby is not born on that day," he said. "Because that's the mark of the beast, man."
Seems to me that, had Satan done the nasty with your wife and sired an unholy offspring, the least of your worries would be which specific day the child was born on. I mean, the Beelzebaby would still be in there, just waiting for a different day to be born. And there's still that whole issue of the devil and your wife making like Paris Hilton. I mean, how do you get that image out of your head and try to move forward in the relationship? I mean, you just know that Satan's gotta be hung like John Holmes, right? How do you think he scores chicks in the first place? You know what they say about guys with big horns...
Anyway, I'm firmly of the belief that the devil's already here. He lives in this big white house in Washington DC. So I'm not all that worried about any child with odd birthmarks coming today. How much more damage could such a child do than has already been done?
With that in mind, here's like this totally awesome list of the top ten Evil things in the modern pop culture world.Here are the top ten evidences of Satan's work here on earth:
10. American Idol. I've already made my feelings known about this show.
9. The whole rock star-supermodel thing. Please... like Ric Ocasek belonged in the same room with Paulina Porizkova? Like Mick Jagger shouldn't still be a virgin at 64 with that face? And yet, it happens over and over again. (Hey wait... why'd I quit singing with the band again?)
8. Anna Nicole Smith is pregnant. If you're really worried about Satan's spawn, here's where to look.
7. Jennifer Lopez. A low class, bad-'tude, Jerry Springer reject turns a decent ass into a multi-million dollar career?
6. The fact that Alabama gets electoral votes. Maybe that whole "literacy test" thing wasn't such a bad idea. Today, no one in 'Bammy would get anywhere near a hanging chad.
5. Roseanne. Ok, so the reference is more than a decade old now, and she's faded into obscurity. But for a time, she had the #1 TV show in America -- and Satan still laughs mockingly in our directions for having pulled that one off.
4. Rush Limbaugh You just know that from somewhere down below, Father Coughlin is high-fiving Satan and saying, "We're ba-a-a-a-a-a-a-ck!"
3. Pauly Shore, Tom Green, Johnny Knoxville, Larry the Cable Guy. The Four Horsemen of the Lowest Common Denominator/Low Class Unfunny Apocolypse.
2. K-Fed. How in the hell did this trailer park reject with at least 11 guaranteed future appearances on "Cops" manage to marry and perpetually impregnate America's hottest other trailer park reject? Federline, your soul's gonna burn for taking what was mine.
1. Ann Coulter. Sure, I could have gone the easy route and named the entire Republican regime as evidence of Satan's handiwork. Between Bush, Cheney, Rove, Rumsfeld, DeLay, Lay, Dobson, Bauer, Wolfowitz, Feith, and Bill O'Reilly, you can't swing a stick without hitting a likely spawn of Satan among prominent conservatives. (Though if you want to swing sticks at conservatives, who am I to counsel you against it?) But it's so much more fun to point out that shrill, screeching, harpie -- who looks like Jack Skellington from "The Nightmare Before Christmas" -- as carrying the unholy blood of Lucifer coursing through her veins. Her name is Legion.
Posted by Christopher at 06:53 AM | Comments (8) | TrackBackJune 05, 2006
Jill's Meme
Because as you know I can't resist the damn things... it's an OCD thing, perhaps. Anyway, this one's from Jill.
1. What curse word do you use the most? Without a doubt, it’s the F word. Noun, verb, adjective… it’s such a versatile word. I also tend to use a certain insult quite often… the one about vacuuming roosters. Which makes no sense to use as an insult, actually -- since we men are so gosh-darn thrilled about the act itself, why would committing said act be an insult? Where's the logic in calling someone that when we're unhappy with them? I mean, if... um, anywhoo…
2. Do you own an iPod? Finally got my first one for Christmas; got the video one, though… so when I did it, I did it right.
3. Who on your MySpace “Top 8” do you talk to the most? While I get MySpace’s appeal to others, I don’t and won’t do it.
4. What time is your alarm clock set for? Once I finally fall asleep, I sleep so soundly that I have the uncanny ability to roll over and hit snooze about 8 times without ever waking up enough to realize that I’ve done it. Thus, I have to set my alarm about an hour before I really do need to be awake. So, my alarm clock is set for 5:30.
5. What color is your room? Standard apartment coloring; cream-ish walls, beige carpeting.
6. Flip flops or sneakers? I grew up in the Midwest; we talk differently. Are you asking me ‘sandals or tennis shoes?’ Until a couple of years ago I would have answered with the Nikes, but Florida converted me to being a sandals wearer.
7. Would you rather take the picture or be in the picture? Take the picture. I’d rather play creatively with the composition of the shot, and besides there hasn’t been a good photograph taken of me in 25 years at least. I don’t photograph well.
8. What was the last movie you watched? In the theater? Probably “Walk The Line” -- I never go to movie theaters anymore. On DVD, probably “Good Night and Good Luck.” On a plane, it was a tragically sanitized version of “Caddyshack.”
9. Do any of your friends have children? Almost all of them. I think I only have a couple of friends who have not yet kicked out an ankle-biter or two.
10. Has anyone ever called you lazy? I call myself lazy on a daily basis. No sense hiding from the truth.
11. Do you ever take medication to help you fall asleep faster? As an insomniac, I would inject horse urine if I thought it would help me fall asleep faster. As it stands, Tylenol Simply Sleep occupies a place of honor in my nightstand.
12. What CD is currently in your CD player? One I burned off my iTunes playlist to have in my car. (I hardly ever listen to CDs anymore outside of the car, I’m an MP3 guy.) Among the artists on said CD are The Raconteurs, Pearl Jam, Michael Penn, and Snow Patrol.
13. Do you prefer regular or chocolate milk? Neither. I’m lactose intolerant.
14. Has anyone told you a secret this week? Of course. And for $100, I’ll tell you what it was.
15. Have you ever given someone a hickey? Not since high school.
16. Who was the last person to call you? Probably my brother, who was trying to find out if I’d arrived in DC yet this weekend.
17. Do you think people talk about you behind your back?I’d be rather naïve to think that in the corporate world, people weren’t talking about me behind my back, now wouldn’t I?
18. Did you watch cartoons as a child? As a elementary school child, it was Looney Tunes, Scooby Doo and the old Tennessee Tuxedo/Underdog shows. As an adult child, it’s Aqua Teen Hunger Force (number one in the hood, G!) and the Simpsons.
19. How many siblings do you have? One brother, two years younger than me.
20. Are you shy around the opposite sex? Only when it counts. I can playfully flirt for fun with the best of them… but I get flustered when I really am interested in someone specific.
21. What movie do you know every line to? I’m a guy; we memorize movies like we forget anniversaries. Among the ones I am most prone to sprinkle into my conversations, though, are “Caddyshack,” “Monty Python and the Holy Grail,” and “Bull Durham.”
22. Do you own any band t-shirts? Metallica/Dysfunctional Family Picnic 2003, Van Hagar 2004. When Tim and I do our relive-the-teenage-head banging concert every summer, I usually get a shirt.
23. What is your favorite salad dressing? Ranch, maybe, or blue cheese.
24. Do you read for fun? Do you sniff to smell?
25. Do you cry a lot? No.
26. Who was the last person to text message you? I hate texting with the scorching heat of 1000 white hot suns. I refuse to engage in it or to even acknowledge a text message.
27. Do you have a desktop computer or a laptop? Laptop.
28. Are you currently wanting any piercings or tattoo? I’d really like to go get a tattoo. Maybe this summer.
29. What is the weather like? Mercurial, a little precocious, and very droll.
30. Would you ever date someone covered in tattoos? Covered in them? Perhaps not. But a strategically placed tat or two is hot.
31. Is sex before marriage wrong? Only between the best man and the bride.
32. When was the last time you slept on the floor? Do air mattresses on the floor count? If you mean actually on the floor, I think it would have been like May 2001, when spending a few days back in Boston with Dave and Damian at Stover’s place.
33. How many hours of sleep do you need to function? Seeing as how I rarely fall asleep before 2 am, I’ve been getting by on about 3-4 hours of sleep a night for years.
34. Are you in love or lust? Love is just lust strong enough to make you put up with the other person’s s*it.
35. Are your days full and fast-paced? Who wrote this question, Up With F***in' People?
36. Do you pay attention to calories on the back of packages? Not really. That would imply that I had either the time or the discipline to read the labels. Actually, when I do read the labels, I’m looking for sodium content or fat content.
37. How old will you be turning on your next birthday? 38. Anyone saying “happy birthday” to me will be drawn and quartered.
38. Are you picky about spelling and grammar? Mostly, yes. The occasional typo on a blog entry doesn’t bug me, but the deliberate misspelling of words that has resulted from texting/IM culture drives me bat-spit crazy. As for grammar, I am one of those people who has to bite his tongue to keep from correcting people’s grammar when they butcher it.
39. Have you ever been to Six Flags? No. Not really the amusement park type, I guess.
40. Do you get along better with the same or opposite sex? Equally, I think.
41. Do you like cottage cheese? To me it’s just spoiled milk.
42. Do you sleep on your side, tummy, or back? Mostly my back.
43. Have you ever bid for something on eBay? My autographed baseball collection has been compiled mostly on eBay.
44. Do you enjoy giving hugs? For better or worse, I am a hugger.
45. What song did you last sing out loud? “Why" by Jason Aldean. I'm a country fan. Sue me.
46. What is your favorite TV show? It was “The West Wing” until Sorkin left. Now I guess I’d say “Scrubs.”
47. Which celebrity, dead or alive, would you want to have lunch with? Lunch, huh? That’s all it gets to be, is lunch? What fun is that? Fine. Then I’ll talk writing with F. Scott Fitzgerald.
48. Last time you had butterflies in your stomach? Every time I go up on stage in front of some conference, I have a few butterflies. It’s healthy; if you didn’t have ‘em when speaking in front of people, you’d be too confident.
49. What one thing do you wish you had? Kevin Federline’s wife? Nah, too trashy. I’ll just go with ‘a winning lottery ticket for $190 million.
50. Favorite lyrics? Pretty much the entire song “Black” by Pearl Jam.
Posted by Christopher at 08:02 PM | Comments (6)June 04, 2006
Unfair... Unbalanced... Un-American
Thanks to Corey for finding this one, and encouraging me to share (as I similarly encourage all of you to share)... Imagine if some commentator for CBS News or CNN or some other outlet of the allegedly "liberal" media (which in itself is a lie perpetrated by conservatives for nearly 40 years now) accused American troops of having committed an atrocity that in fact Saddam's troops had been responsible for. And that when the facts were presented to said commentator, he chose instead to angrily repeat the slander a second time. And then his network covered up the slip by blatantly altering the transcription of the commentator's remarks and removing the troublesome accusation from public view -- so that if you didn't see it on the air, you'd never know it happened. And that when the commentator's own audience called him out on his mistake, he blithely glossed it over and pretended like he'd simply misspoken (twice).
How loudly do you suspect the unthinking conservative sheep (is there is any other kind of conservative?) would have been bleating for said commentator's dismissal and perp walk? How angrily do you think the screeching harpie voices of Ann Coulter or Rush Limbaugh would be calling for that commentator's resgination, the withdrawal of the network's license, and about the general un-American nature of liberals in general?
Now, change the scene a little -- instead of Saddam's troops, make the perpetrators of the atrocities Nazi war criminals, and make the victims the same American soldiers who the commentator was accusing. Now how loud do you think the cries of righteous anger would be from the right?
Actually, such a scenario did take place last week. To the letter. Only the commentator was Bill O'Reilly from the Republican Propaganda Channel That Masquerades As "News." But he and Fox did everything I just described -- accused American soldiers in World War II of atrocities in Belgium... when in fact it was the Nazis who slaughtered American troops. Fox conveniently altered the transcript of O'Reilly's program to change the location of O'Reilly's allegation. And there hasn't been a damn peep from the self-righteous screechers on the right. Not that anyone should be surprised, really. I mean, as a veteran I am infuriated; and as an American I am appalled. But we've seen way too much from the right in this country over the last 25 years to expect anything different.
Thankfully, at least someone was paying attention, and called that sniveling piece of garbage and his propaganda channel network out over the whole incident. I give you MSNBC's Keith Olbermann, showing you exactly what kind of person Bill O'Reilly is, and what kind of Orwellian network Fox is. The right should be ashamed, except that they know no shame.
Posted by Christopher at 09:47 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBackJune 03, 2006
A Corny Decision
In the latest example of the current administration's treason against the United States and its people, Bush's Department of Homeland Security has inexplicably determined that cornfields in Nebraska have as much chance of being attacked by al Qaida as say, the Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building, the US Capitol, or the Lincoln Memorial. Thus, security funding for our most visible and obvious targets in New York and Washington DC have been cut by 40% or more, while funding increases have been granted to such areas the Bush administration apparently believes are likely terrorist targets: Nebraska, Milwaukee, and Louisville, Kentucky.
Inexplicably, Homeland Security chief Michael Chertoff and his Keystone Kops department claimed that New York City does not have any national icons that are likely targets for such attacks. I guess Times Square, the Brooklyn Bridge, the finiancial center of the entire country, and the aformentioned Empire State Building and Statue of Liberty don't count, while Nebraska cornfields and downtown Louisville do. Quick: anyone, anybody not living in Kentucky... name me one building or street in Louisville (whose funding is up 70%). Anyone? Bueller?
Look, I hate to play into the whole "New York as center of the universe" mentality. On a daily basis, the self-importance of this area drives me insane. But in this case it's entirely justified; the idea of Nebraska or Kentucky being equal targets as Manhattan would be laughable if it weren't so criminally inept. Michael Chertoff and his jackassed deputy, Tracy Henke (whom we should not forget was forced upon the American people by the Bush administration in yet another recess appointment, without Senate or any kind of Congressional approval -- since obviously the Bushies believe themselves above such unimportant things as Congressional oversight) have declared war on New York -- and are guilty of gross negligence. It's unclear just what their rationale is, but they've crossed into Michael Brown levels of incompetence. There ought to be an investigation of how this ridiculous decision was agreed to by this administration.
As for Chetoff and Henke, their entire families should be forcibly moved to Times Square or chained to the Statue of Liberty. Maybe then they'd feel just a little more stake in recognizing where the threats are, and in doing their damn jobs.
Posted by Christopher at 01:49 PM | Comments (9) | TrackBackNice Try, God
Gotta give the Big Guy credit for trying, anyway.
A Learjet registered to religious broadcaster Pat Robertson crashed in Long Island Sound while flying in heavy fog Friday, killing both pilots, authorities said. All three passengers escaped without serious injury.
It's not often we get to see God in action trying to correct some of His mistakes, so I'll give him props for this effort. Even though Robertson wasn't in the plane.
“We’re still trying to figure out who was on the plane,” she said. “It’s not Dr. Robertson or (anyone) related to CBN or related to Dr. Robertson’s individual businesses.”
Note to self: never rent a plane from someone on God's bad side.
Posted by Christopher at 01:30 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBackJune 02, 2006
Warning: Authentication Coming
Hey all,
I hate to do this, I really do... I like having this blog open to the world. But I've been having a particularly ugly attack of comment spam lately -- including a bunch who are apparently doing it not to try and sell some pathetic product, but just because they can. ("You have a great site, but I am so sorry you have so much spam," they read.)
First of all, to the spammers... It's really too bad that you're all such gutless cowardly pissants that you hide behind comment spam. Guess that's what happens when adults spend their lives in diapers, huh? You're damn lucky, all of you, that I'll likely never meet you in person, or I'd have my foot so far down your throats you'd be passing my shoelaces.
To my regular readers... I've grown exasperated with having to delete 200 spamments a day, including about 25 now that make it past my filters. In one week, I am going to go to a moderated commenting system -- you'll have to be registered and authenticated to comment here. I really hate to do this to you, but I have no choice. I'm going to use TypeKey -- here's the link, so if you'd like to keep commenting (and I hope you do), please get a TypeKey ID. I figure a one week notice ought to be enough time to get everyone set up.
To my fellow bloggers... anyone have any luck elimintaing these nasty little trouser gnomes from earth -- I mean, from your sites? I've got a spamment infestation problem the size of Denver, so any hints would be greatly appreciated.
Thanks for understanding, everyone.
Posted by Christopher at 07:20 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBackSo Let's Root, Root, Root Against The Rockies
My least favorite baseball team has always been the Yankees... whether when I was growing up as a Twins fan (guess what, New York? the rest of the country doesn't like the Yankee$, and it has nothing to do with the alleged "jealousy" you chalk it up to, and everything to do with attitude), or especially as an adult Red Sox fan. I never thought I'd see anything that would ever displace the Yankees as the team I disdain the most. But of course, something has.
My new least favorite team -- the one I will cheer hardest against and wish many popped hamstrings and 12-1 drubbings upon, is the Colorado Rockies. After this article in USA Today the other day, I have no choice but to consider the Rockies Satan's spawn. And in the unlikely event that they're ever in the World Series against the Yankees, I'll cheer for the Yankees.
Why? What would drive me to such a drastic step? "Behind the scenes, they quietly have become an organization guided by Christianity — open to other religious beliefs but embracing a Christian-based code of conduct they believe will bring them focus and success." That's right, kids -- they are picking players specifically because they're "Christians" and trying to assemble a squad of unthinking, religious automatons who are signed less for their baseball abilities and more for their religious beliefs.
I'm all for trying to build teams on character. Character counts. But more in the sense of what behavior will not be tolerated, as opposed to forcing a religion or specific belief set on employees of the organization. And the Rockies have not only gone fundie, they actually have adopted the smug, arrogant, born-again belief that they are better than you because of their beliefs, and that God is helping them win baseball games.
Just what we need: the Christian Taliban in baseball. Tell you what: I'll be cheering for a rash of plagues (and a plague of rashes) against the Rockies. I hope the damn fundies go 57-105 for the next ten years.
Posted by Christopher at 07:01 AM | Comments (11) | TrackBackSounds Worth Saving: #10 and #9
Linkmeister e-mailed the other day to remind me that I never finished up on my "Sounds Worth Saving" thread, the premise of which was basically that, after reading about the Library of Congress selecting 50 recordings it was saving as historical records, I was picking the 25 recordings I would save -- due to either their historical import or because they mean something to me. It's a rare occasion when I write something that someone actually looks forward to at all, much less requests the completion of a list that I let drop more than a month ago. So, it was be an egregious violation of etiquette, principle, and probably the Contitution were I not to comply with said request. LM, thanks for remembering. And now, in the words of Casey Kasem, on with the countdown.
10. Vin Scully's call of Sandy Koufax's perfect game, September 9, 1965. Ordinarily I am not a huge fan of Vin Scully; I find him a little too dispassionate, a little too old-school. But Scully's call of Sandy Koufax's perfect game is classic baseball at its finest. He captures the tension and drama of a perfect game better than anyone ever had or has since. (And there have only been 17 perfect games in the history of baseball -- and more than a hundred thousand games have been played in the history of major league baseball... so this was one of the most elite moments in the game's history.) Plus, in calling the game he delivered one of the most classic baseball lines ever: "And there's 29,000 people in the ballpark, and a million butterflies." Great line. Great call.
9. Mario Cuomo's "Tale of Two Cities" speech at the 1984 Democratic convention. You want to know how I became a lefty, a Democrat? It was this speech. I was 16 years old, and I actually watched political conventions that year, because I was interested in them. (Yeah, I was a geek.) My parents were moderate Republicans -- Reagan Democrats, more accurately; there was no reason to believe I'd turn out any differently. But while I didn't yet know which party I felt was more closely aligned with, I did have a sense of what I was beginning to believe in. And then I heard Mario Cuomo's speech.
In it, I heard almost everything I had begun to believe -- not just what I believed in, but what I found uncomfortable about Reaganomics and Republican policies. The difference between the two parties and their belief systems was clearer to me after hearing this speech, and I knew which side I wanted to be on. Liberalism has its flaws, certainly; but so does conservatism. And in choosing between two flawed philosophies, I will side every time with the white hats. There is good and bad, and right and wrong, and this speech helped me know which was which. The next day, I started calling myself a Democrat when people asked. And to this day, I think this speech, delivered on July 16 1984, was the most brilliant campaign speech I've ever heard.
The truth is, ladies and gentlemen, that this is how we were warned it would be. President Reagan told us from the very the beginning that he believed in a kind of social Darwinism. Survival of the fittest. "Government can't do everything," we were told. "So it should settle for taking care of the strong and hope that economic ambition and charity will do the rest. Make the rich richer, and what falls from the table will be enough for the middle class and those who are trying desperately to work their way into the middle class."You know, the Republicans called it "trickle-down" when Hoover tried it. Now they call it "supply side." But it's the same shining city for those relative few who are lucky enough to live in its good neighborhoods. But for the people who are excluded, for the people who are locked out, all they can do is to stare from a distance at that city's glimmering towers.
It's an old story. It's as old as our history. The difference between Democrats and Republicans has always been measured in courage and confidence. The Republicans -- The Republicans believe that the wagon train will not make it to the frontier unless some of the old, some of the young, some of the weak are left behind by the side of the trail. "The strong" -- "The strong," they tell us, "will inherit the land."
We Democrats believe in something else. We Democrats believe that we can make it all the way with the whole family intact, and we have more than once. Ever since Franklin Roosevelt lifted himself from his wheelchair to lift this nation from its knees -- wagon train after wagon train -- to new frontiers of education, housing, peace; the whole family aboard, constantly reaching out to extend and enlarge that family; lifting them up into the wagon on the way; blacks and Hispanics, and people of every ethnic group, and native Americans -- all those struggling to build their families and claim some small share of America.
Yeah. What he said. LIsten to it here.
Posted by Christopher at 05:48 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBackJune 01, 2006
Bad 80s Video War: Surgical Strike
Not an offensive with overwhelming force and nukes, but rather a surgical strike designed to take out the heart of Corey's infratstructure and ability to communicate with his forces...
Because remember, kids: nothing says cool like stop-action, quick repeat cuts, and extensive/excessive chroma-key.
I present The Steve Miller Band's "Abracadabra."
(removed for lack of storage)
Posted by Christopher at 08:08 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBackHe's Back
About a month ago, I reluctantly removed my friend Ethan from my Blogroll because he hadn't updated his blog in months... of course, no sooner do I do this than I discover that he's fired up a new blog -- no longer hand-rolling his code but coming over to the dark side and hooking up with Blogspot.
I haven't talked as much with Ethan lately; he's been promoted and has a new gig that's taking up much of his attention, and of course I've been running around like a wombat with its head cut off for the last few months. So it's great to see his blog back up - it's a good way to see what's in his head these days and for me to continue to be simultaneously inspired and depressed by just how creative he is. Ethan... welcome back to blgotopia, man.
Anyway, back and in full force, I present Ethan's new blog.
Posted by Christopher at 08:07 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBackHome
I finally was able to cut the cord on the old apartment yesterday, when -- on the last possible day -- I had a couple of kids (read: in their mid-twenties) who have their own salvage business come over to pick up the stuff I opted not to take with me to the new place. That was it; the old place was empty, there was nothing left, and my footsteps echoed on the hardwood floors as there was nothing left to absorb their sound.
Ordinarily I am a pretty sentimental guy; my natural inclination would have been to linger for a moment to consider the memories left in the place or the pieces of my life that occurred within those walls. But there was no such emotion yesterday. I looked around, uttered a phrase that sounded a lot like "fork this place," only a bit more coarse, and headed down the stairs and out. As I drove away, I realized that my lack of attachment to that apartment reflected that for me, despite having kept that place for five years, I had never considered it "home;" it was just a place to sleep and keep my stuff while I went about my life -- in whatever state I happened to be in -- and waited for something else. I had no connection to it, emotional, physical or otherwise. It was not "home."
After I left, I headed immediately to LaGuardia; I had business in DC yesterday and had a flight to catch (was only there for a few hours yesterday). And when I got off the plane at National (it will never be "Reagan" to me, I refuse to call it that), I was struck by how immediately at ease and "home" I felt (despite it being about 90 damn degrees and more humid than Florida in August). Whether in the cab to K Street, or in Alexandria having dinner with my brother, or traversing in between, I just had the sense of being home -- which is odd, since I lived in the DC area for only three years a decade ago now, while I've been based in New York for seven years (whether I spent the majority of my time here or not, it's been home base since 1999).
On the plane ride back, I was pondering how it is that a place I spent only three years in and left in 1997 could feel more like home than an area I have been in for going on a decade. And I realized that, just like that apartment, I have never considered New York "home;" it's just a place to sleep and keep my stuff while I've gone about my life -- in whatever state I happened to be in -- and waited for something else. I'm not connected to it.
This isn't a slag on New York; every area has its plusses and pros and cons, and some people are going to take to one area more readilly than others, is all. And I do have amazing friends up here... so I am not about to turn this into a "New York sucks" whine. It's just an observation.
