Monday, December 31, 2007
286 posts in just over 365 days isn't bad when you consider we all had jobs or law school and don't make one red cent off of this venture. Therefore, 286 times, we graced you fine people with our thoughts, all for nothing at all. Pretty good if you ask me.
We've also had out own adventures in the blogging world. We've been rejected as a link on the prestigious St. Andrew's Net feature on With Leather. We've been on Deadspin twice and made it on to the DC Sports Bog and the Sports Illustrated baseball blog, thanks to the fact that I went to middle school with the guy who broke Chase Utley's hand. We made it on to the Faith and Fear in Flushing blogroll, were found by In Dayton We Trust and got a couple shout outs on the always fantastic Can't Stop the Bleeding. All in all, quite a year for our humble blog.
And now for a bunch of songs I really liked in 2007, with my favorite movies to follow tomorrow-ish.
"New York I Love You, But You're Bringing Me Down", LCD Soundsystem, Sound of Silver
The best song on Sound of Silver was "All My Friends". But since I love to play the iconoclast (read: contrarian asshole), I will declare "New York I Love You" as my favorite song off the album. All you need to do is walk around Times Square or the luxury condo sprouting Lower East Side to know that the melancholy ballad to New York's former seediness is long overdue. Bonus points are awarded for taking a shot at Mayor Bloomberg, who managed to become a nationally recognized and incredibly popular mayor without 3000 people dying on his watch.
"Wanderlust King", Gogol Bordello, Super Taranta
On an album that's excellent from top to bottom, sometimes it's tough to pick your favorite from it. For now though, let's just go with "Wanderlust King", a high energy ode to traveling around for no reason other than to see shit and kill time. And also to become a man or something important like that. Gypsies are weird.
"The Way To There", Au Revoir Simone, The Bird of Music
These three Brooklyn-based synth-pop girls aren't going to change music, but that's OK. Sometimes it's nice to drift of to sleep listening to an odd, sprawling song about broken relationships set to a soothing chime background with a sinister yet sweet main synthesizer line.
"Running Away", The Polyphonic Spree, The Fragile Army
God, did I ever love this album. One of the main reasons being this fantastic opening song about the same shit every other Spree song is about: being way happy and in love. I saw the Spree live three times in six months and still never got tired of their decision to open with this song. It just makes me want to run up and hug someone and kiss some pretty girl on the street. One of those will get you hauled off in cuffs though.
"Jesus Saves, I Spend", St. Vincent, Marry Me
From an artist that came out of nowhere to hit me right in the sweet spot of my eardrum, St. Vincent (the stage name of the extremely talented Annie Clark), comes my arbitrary pick for the best song of Marry Me. What is "Jesus Saves" about? Great question, because there are no lyrics online. It's playful and catchy though, which is good enough for me. Really, you should just go pick up the whole album, this chick can fucking shred.
"Off the Grid", The Beastie Boys, The Mix Up
The Beastie Boys brought the pain in their all instrumental album The Mix Up, and no track was finer than "Off The Grid". Some folks were disappointed with the album, but if you want a soundtrack for maxin' and relaxin' at a summer barbecue, it's tough to look past this album. Especially on this track, the Boys show they haven't lost a bit of their chops as musicians, combining sprawling, funky guitar with a strong synthesizer backbone and rump shaking drumming. Well played Boys, well played.
"Alfie", Lilly Allen, Alright, Still
For all the love given to "LDN" and "Smile" (both of which I dug), the song that really turned me on to Lilly Allen was this jaunty little tune about being more successful than your younger brother, something I thus far have not been able to accomplish. It's poppy third-wave ska, but it's done with care.
"(Antichrist Television Blues)", The Arcade Fire, Neon Bible
What an album. On the one hand, I want to pick "Keep the Car Running". Then I want to pick "No Cars Go". Instead, I'll pick the track I've been listening to lately. A rockin' tune about a God fearing man and his golden voiced daughter and the tension and calamities that ensue, it could taken as a song about Joe Simpson and his two daughters. But why the fuck would Win Butler and company give a shit about them?
"Fireworks", Animal Collective, Strawberry Jam
My friend Teller called this the best song of the year. I'm not in the business of those kind of declarations, but Animal Collective should feel just peachy about making my "Bunch of Darn Good Songs" list. The drumbeat is just hypnotic, the vocals are passionate and the lyrics are odd but not opaque. A song that lives up to its title, it does in a way make me feel like I'm on the beach watching fireworks.
"Down To Rest", O'Death, Head Home
We need a couple more bands like O'Death in the world. Not that many more, just a couple. These city boys fuse punk, bluegrass and country seamlessly, allowing you to have a down home experience at the hootenanny while simultaneously punching someone in the back of the head. By far my favorite song off of Head Home, it conjures up nothing but trouble when I think about it, but sometimes you need a song to do that.
"23", Blonde Redhead, 23
I must admit, I got on the Blonde Redhead scene rather late. However, thanks to a tip from Tex, I will miss out no longer. Hypnotic vocals and lyrics from Kazuo Makino give 23 a bold, strong opening that carries through the rest of the album. You can dance to it, you can sit and analyze the lyrics, you can even stand around and look cool while it plays. One hell of a track from one of my newly discovered favorites.
"D.A.N.C.E.", Justice, Cross
Now this is fucking party music. From French newcomers Justice, we have one of the most fun dance songs of the entire year. Hopefully this will become a DJ staple all over the country, because people need to hear this song.
And with that, we come to the end of a the list. There's an implicit weakness in it, considering that I left out all the hip hop from this year. I haven't gotten around to grabbing the new Wu-Tang or Ghostface and just haven't listened to Talib Kweli's Ear Drum yet, so yeah, bollocks to me. If you think I missed anything, don't be afraid to recommend it in the comments.
Happy New Year all, and remember: Gil will be watching over all of us, so don't party safe, party hard.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Fuck you, send money.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
#1: Latest Holloway evidence. To be honest, I didn't read this one. The Natalee Holloway case probably makes you dumber if you think about it too much. It's not as if this murder or disappearance or alien abduction has any fun noir-ish elements. She wasn't a princess or an international jewel thief, she was just some fucking kid on vacation. This kind of shit happens. At this point, the only people who should give a fuck about Natalee Holloway are her parents and the sexual predator who no doubt is running out of ways to torture her. Instead there's a whole fucking Facebook group devoted to this chick, whose members seem to feel her case doesn't get enough exposure. Scary.
#3: Spears' pregnancy legal issues. Oh you Spearses, what wacky hijinx will you get into next? Aside from being a helpful update on the statutory rape laws of both Louisiana and California, there's nothing in this story that makes me hopeful Spears' boyfriend will receive the Genarlow Wilson treatment.
BONUS BONUS BONUS: In order to maximize their coverage of this important time in American history, CNN asked You, Time's Person of the Year, to tell them what You think about young Jamie impersonating Juno. The responses were typically moronic, a lot of hand wringing in the "think of the children" vein. Makes me think of what terrible things I'll tell my children someday. Anyway, response of the year has to go to Jackie Borget. To answer the question "How do you talk to kids about Britney's sister?", Jacki responds, "Luckily I don't have kids the age to know who Spears is." Wow Jackie, just wow. Maybe you should have just emailed in a random string of letters, numbers and symbols, because that would be just as smart as answering a question of "How do you tell kids?" with "I don't need to."
#5: Commentary: You can't take Christ out of Christmas. If you're a snarky internet nerd with a blog, this story is like striking gold and oil while Giselle gives you an ultra handjob. May your cold, uncaring and faceless God bless you Roland S. Martin. Let's do it to it!
This whole push to remove Christ from the Christmas season has gotten so ridiculous that it's pathetic.
That your opening line? You get paid by CNN to open with that? I've seen fifth graders who open book reports with more impressive sentences.
Because of all the politically correct idiots, we are being encouraged to stop saying "Merry Christmas" for the more palatable "Happy Holidays." What the heck are "Seasons Greetings"? Can someone tell me what season we are greeting folks about? A Christmas tree? Oh, no! It's now a holiday tree. Any Christmas song that even remotely mentions Christ or has a religious undertone is being axed for being overtly religious.
Oh my. Those politically correct clowns are at it again! Has anyone ever produced solid proof that there are movements to make stories say "Happy Holidays"? The only time I hear about lawsuits against Christmas is when people sue to get manger scenes taken off of public property. And why shouldn't they? You want to say Jesus had a divine birth, go say it in a fucking church. That's what it's there for.
And I'm sorry, forget X-M-A-S. Malcolm X? Yes. X replacing Christ? No.
Quote. Of. The Decade. Just stare at that sentence and tell me what it means. Please oh please tell me. Because I can read that over for the rest of my life and not understand where Malcom X came into the conversation. I'm starting to think Roland S. Martin is just a hallucination, like the time I thought Oral Roberts was telling me to steal my roommate's drugs. Turned out it was Pat Buchanan.
But this seeming backlash against Christianity is bordering on the absurd, and we should continue to remember that Jesus is the reason for the season.
Who the fuck is the "Jesus" you speak of? Are you talking about the pederast from the cult hit The Big Lebowski? Do Christians worship a guy who wears a purple jumpsuit and will shove that gun up your ass and pull the trigger until it goes click?
We have families all over the nation killing themselves to buy a tree they can't afford, running up their credit to buy toys and other gifts, all in an effort to make someone else happy.
How dare these people make an effort to make someone else happy!
Its time that we return to traditional values, and end this ridiculous charade. It's important that we take a fuller account of WHY we celebrate Christmas-
The Lexus December to Remember event and the Maxim holiday gift guide?
Parents, don't be so consumed with the notion that your children will have a terrible Christmas because the tree isn't overflowing with gifts. The true love that you show them is more important than anything else.
Untrue. Parents, a mother's love has been proven by science to be deadlier than the dreaded Hunta virus or a bite from Klaus Meine, lead singer of 80s super group the Scorpions. You're much safer just buying your kid an XBox and lapsing back in alcoholism. They'll thank you later.
America might be the king of capitalism, but secularism must never become so prevalent that our religious traditions are discarded.
A translation of this phrase would go as such: "Sure I just spent an inordinate amount of time railing against capitalism, but everyone knows Jesus loves American-style capitalism. So as not to piss off Jesus, I'll just dump everything on the atheists and the scientists. Laterz!"
#6: Charges in Mortal Kombat Killing. If I were a teacher (and you better hope I never become one), I would hold up this piece as a hallmark of lazy journalism. Instead of "Two Brain Dead Drunk Teens Beat Kid to Death", the AP brightly just repeats the charge of the local prosecutor that the suspects imitated Mortal Kombat. At the very least, I wanna know if they impersonated Johnny Cage or Jax or what. Thanks AP, way to dig.
And there you have it. You, the voting public have made these the most popular stories on CNN.com. Meanwhile, racist lunatic Tom Tancredo drops out of the presidential race and only lands on #8 on the list. Poor bastard. I bet a Mexican is gonna win the election, just to rub salt in the wounds.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
“I have a lot more enemies now, but that’s part of the deal,” Mr. Huckabee said. He has cited attacks from the news media, interest groups and other candidates over his record as governor, his background as a Baptist preacher, past ethical questions, alleged liberal tendencies, impolitic remarks about people with AIDS, raising taxes and “just about everything from the kidnapping of the Lindbergh baby to being complicit in the participation of the J.F.K. assassination."
Everyone knows some filthy fucking Wop kidnapped the Lindbergh baby.
What's astounding about this article aside from being described as a more pathetic than it sounds "exclusive treadmill interview" is that Leibovich doesn't discuss one of the issues mentioned above. Instead of asking the man who could very well be President if he still thinks AIDS should be Hollywood's problem and not the government's or if we aren't products of random genetic mutations, Leibovich spits out pabulum like this:
In an exclusive treadmill interview in New Hampshire, the front-runner was drenched in sweat, breathing hard and spewing forth with homespun one-liners that have become a trademark. He seems, for whatever reason, particularly fond of canine themes.
“Hey, dogs never bark at parked cars,” said the candidate, whose round brown eyes and smiley bearing make him slightly resemble the actor Jim Nabors. “It’s not the size of the dog in the fight,” he adds, “it’s the size of the fight in the dog.”
My goodness, you can almost hear Huckabee's aides whispering in Leibovich's ear: "Remember, the Governor likes his prostate massaged as opposed to a regular handjob. That's right, just get on in there with the fingers."
Jesus Christ New York Times, is this what passes for campaign journalism these days? Let Parade magazine give the interviews where Huckabee can say spit out cliches as fast as they can get written down. Jim fucking Nabors? You ask the man who says his theology degree makes him uniquely able to fight terrorism about the size of the fight in him? You seriously let one of your reporters record him playing the "woe is me" act and say “I’m being questioned about the details of my faith like no one else.”?
Hey Mike, maybe the details of your faith keep getting questioned because you're fucking using them as a cape? People like Mike Huckabee and Mitt Romney make me sick. First it's kissing ass for the evangelical crowd talking up how much they love Jesus, and then when someone asks them if they'll use the Book of Revelations as a road map in a disaster they get all defensive and play the martyr. Neither of you pricks is JFK.
It doesn't have to be this way. Don't think for a second that Fox News or the Washington Times would give this kind of kid gloves treatment to Barack Obama just because he's such a nice guy. Yet the New York Times, always quick to prop itself up as the king of the newspaper industry, gives the leading Republican candidate what amounts to one of those infomercials where Marco from Sealab tries to sell me fabulous property in, coincidentally enough, Arkansas.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Everything and I mean everything about this movie is an abomination. Someday when you have children and they ask you why you're such a mean, bitter old bastard, sit them down and explain that you grew up in an era when there was war and famine and poverty all across the world. Yet somehow people flocked to movies like Epic Movie and Date Movie and their creators were rewarded with more chances to make movies. These movies cost upwards of 20 million American dollars to produce. It would be hacky to go into all the wonderful things that money could provide, but needless to say, even if you took the money and used to to release radioactive, poisonous scorpions in the Mall of America on Christmas Eve, it would be a better use of the money than giving it to Aaron Seltzer and Jason Friedberg.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Pulp: So boys, what compelled you to come forward and dispute the findings of the Mitchell Report.
Paul Lo Duca: It's all about clearing the air Dave, nothing simpler than that.
Kevin Brown: We're big fans of the truth.
Pulp: Well then let's get right to it then. What is the truth?
Brown: Let me first say we aren't here to say we didn't buy HGH or steroids. We did.
Lo Duca: But we didn't use them.
Pulp: Excuse me?
Lo Duca: Yeah, we didn't use them. It's just like John Kruk said. Despite the fact that we bought these drugs, notice we never failed a test.
Brown: It's because we never used them!
Pulp: You'll have to forgive me here guys, but that sounds like the dumbest excuse on the face of the Earth.
Lo Duca: Oh come on, were you listening to Pettite? "Oh I made a mistake, Jesus forgive me, wah wah wah."
Brown: Yeah, wait until you start hearing Clemens' excuse. When we saw each other at the All Star Game in 2003, he said he was gonna tell people Barry Bonds broke into his house and injected him while he slept.
Lo Duca: Fernando Vina said his doppleganger tied him up in a basement and ran around committing crimes in the meantime.
Pulp: Yeah, I guess those do sound like stupid excuses. OK, so if we're going off the thesis that you bought, but didn't use the steroids, what did you do with them?
Lo Duca: We threw them in the incinerator.
Brown: You know, for the children.
Pulp: I can't say I follow what you're saying here.
Brown: Look, I'm a father. Paulie dates girls who are young enough to be his daughter. We have a strong interest in protecting the youth of the world from dangerous substances.
Pulp: And to do this, you buy them and then burn them?
Lo Duca: Hell yes. And not just steroids either. I've burned at least a ton of Schedule 1 drugs in my time as a major leaguer.
Brown: Who do you think intervened to keep "Brokeback Mountain" from winning Best Picture?
Pulp: First of all, that is hateful and uncalled for. Secondly, you liked "Crash"?
Brown: Anything that makes me feel less guilty for hating niggers and spics.
Pulp: I think we're getting away from the original idea here. So if you guys didn't actually use performance enhancing substances, can you at least tell me if your teammate Eric Gagne did?
Lo Duca and Brown: (fits of convulsive laughter)
Brown: Sorry, sorry. It's just that thinking back to those days...
Lo Duca: That dumb Canuck didn't know which way to throw the ball before he started juicing. Remember watching him in the playoffs this year?
Pulp: Yeah, that was pretty brutal.
Brown: Well Spring Training with him was even worse than that. In 99, he would just run the ball up to the plate.
Lo Duca: What a whiny little girl he was. Everyday in the clubhouse he'd be crying and listening to The Postal Service. "Oh Paulie, why won't I ever be good at this baseball? My family in Montreal is starving. Please help me!"
Pulp: Wow, that's kind of a sad story.
Lo Duca: Fuck him. You read the report, he didn't even order them for himself, he made me do it.
Pulp: Actually, like most people, I didn't read it. But I'll take your word for it. What about Kirk Radomski, are you surprised he kept all the checks you sent to him?
Lo Duca: No, I can't say I am. It's like Alicia's mom told her, "Lay down with dogs and you're bound to get fleas."
Pulp: And Alicia is?
Lo Duca: This girl from Great Neck. Apparently her mother told her that about me, but you know, it can apply to Kirk too.
Pulp: Of course. So here's a question that I think is on everyone's mind. Why in God's name would you buy illegal drugs with personal checks?
Brown: Come again?
Pulp: Well, it's not to say I have experience in buying $5,000 worth of drugs, but I would imagine a suitcase full of cash would be better than a legal document with my name all over it.
Brown: Oh sure, it would have been nice to not use checks, but my ATM had a daily withdrawal limit.
Pulp: What about you Paul?
Lo Duca: Hey, I just figured I was a celebrity and would never get caught. I don't know why losers like Todd Pratt or Danny Naulty put their names all over the place.
Brown: Wait, who?
Lo Duca: Danny Naulty. Pitched for the White Sox apparently.
Brown: Ah hell, they're all Mark Carreon to me.
Pulp: Fascinating stuff guys. Well, we appear to be out of time, but I'd like to thank you for taking the time to sit down and talk with an unemployed blogger.
Brown: Hey sure. You can make fun, but at the end of the day I still have a private jet.
Lo Duca: Yep. Curse us all you want America, I'm still a multi-millionaire. Maybe I'll throw some nickels down from my private blimp tomorrow afternoon. Suckers.
Pulp: There you have it folks, straight from the horse's mouth. Protecting our youth, dopplegangers and nickels. That, and Eric Gagne listens to the Postal Service and could really use a hug. Join us next week when we sit down with PCP-crazed Mike Huckabee reading from the Book of Revelations.
Friday, December 14, 2007
COCKSMOKING CUNT ASSHOLE
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK GODDAMMIT
(Relevant article here)
MOTHERFUCKER FUCKSTICK SHIT PISS HANNITY BECK CUNT FUCK
Thursday, December 13, 2007
A spectator who heckled Knicks Coach Isiah Thomas on Wednesday night received a printed warning card from a security guard to stop what he was doing or face ejection from Madison Square Garden.
The fan, Michael Katz, an accountant from Westchester County, said he was not cursing but was merely yelling critical remarks at Thomas, who is also the team’s president. Katz said his comments were within what he thought were the boundaries of fair comment.
“I don’t curse,” Katz said Thursday in a telephone interview. “I keep it all within the framework of basketball.”
The 3-by-5 ½-inch warning card handed to Katz features blue letters on a white background. It reads: “You are being issued a warning that the comments, gestures and/or behaviors that you have directed at players, coaches, game officials and/or other spectators constitute excessive verbal abuse and are in violation of the NBA Fan Code of Conduct. This is the first and only warning that you will receive. If, after receiving this warning, you verbally abuse any player, coach, game official or spectator, you will be immediately ejected from the arena without refund.”
The Knicks of course issued statements talking about how everyone does it and it has nothing to do with protecting Zeke's precious ears. However, I found a throwaway line in the story much more interesting than the actual controversy.
After receiving the warning, Katz said, he moved to a different seat and was not ejected. He said he attends four or five Knicks games each season and prefers the Los Angeles Lakers. He said he bought his ticket for $20 outside the Garden from a scalper.“The scalpers were just basically giving away tickets,” Katz said. “The prices were low.”
20 bucks to sit twelve rows behind the bench? I'm paying a trip to the Garden during the next home stand.
So what did you get? A bunch of god damn role players and Miggy Tejada. After all the build up, I actually feel bad for most of the people named. Matt Franco? Larry Bigbie? Phil Hiatt? Who the fuck is Phil Hiatt?
If there's a silver lining, it comes in the public shaming of one Roger Clemens. Much to every Met fan's delight, Roger Clemens got nailed pretty hard in his steroid use. Evidence in the report stretches back to his days as a Blue Jay, which covers 11 seasons, three 20-win seasons, and four Cy Youngs. Much like Barry Bonds, it was the case of a former great who wanted to continue his dominance as opposed to fading away gently. The irony being that when Dan Duquette proclaimed Clemens to be "in the twilight of his career", he posted a 139 ERA+.
So what have we learned today? Pretty much nothing, which after a 20 month investigation doesn't bode well for baseball. Or maybe it does. For every "think of the children" gnashing of teeth, there's someone who just flat doesn't care and another person who takes the view that steroid use should be open and legal. So really, we're right back where we started.
- Unless you've chosen to cut yourself off from the presidential primary clusterfuck (a wise choice), you know that Greasebot gave his incredible edible election changing life affirming speech detailing why it's OK to be Mormon and President at the same time. Most commentators apparently sucked him off afterwards, not noticing the irony of a man who defends his religion by smearing the idea of secularism. On the one hand, it was hardly fair that Romney felt he had to make this speech. But there are enough on the other hands to fill up Vishnu's paws. Romney brought this on himself by trying to appeal to evangelical voters, who anyone gay, Jewish or Catholic can tell you, are not exactly the world's most tolerant people. Second, speaking as someone who finds all religion silly, I understand why people find Mormonism to be particularly wacky. I've thought as much since I visited the Mormon Tabernacle and heard the religion from the horse's mouth. So it's not as if I came to think Mormonism weird because of Mike Huckabee. There's also the fact that Romney is pushing himself as Mr. Faith, and if he's doing that, people are going to wonder what that faith is all about. This is in contrast to JFK, who despite being a servant of Rome (ha!) did not run as a religious wacko. And again, that evil fucking cyborg didn't talk about his religion, he just gave some condescending little nod to every other religion and slammed people who weren't religious.
- David Brooks has declared we're entering a post-war election. Many people have slammed him for this because, you know, there's still a war going on. However, look at this from David Brooks' perspective. The War in Iraq was never more than an ideological and philosophical exercise for him, so now that there are other things to distract him, of course his says the war is over. He hasn't suffered in any way thanks to this war, unlike almost everyone else in America. Brooks is the type of guy that "Masters of War" was written about, he just doesn't know it.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
I know it's shocking and sickening to imagine that the dudes putting up your neighbor's house or pulling your weeds might not be legal residents, so thank God we have a brave guy like Mitt Romney who's willing to draw a line in the sand. Or the border, as it is in this case.
Now then, are you done laughing? OK, cool. Oh Greasebot, how can I stay mad at you? After all, it's not as if you humanely explained that you won't have these poor immigrants taken advantage of and paid wages under the minimum of either the state of Massachusetts or the federal government. No, you totally didn't fire them over political expedient reasons. I mean, doesn't this situation just reek of compassion for poor immigrants?
"I am disappointed that our relationship must end on this note," Romney wrote in a letter to the company that was released by his campaign.
"But we simply cannot tolerate your inability to ensure that your employees are legally permitted to work in the United States."
"The company's failure to comply with the law is disappointing and inexcusable, and I believe it is important I take this action."
The grass at Greasebot's sanctuary mansion will never be quite as green again.
The New York Press has a kind of odd expose type of story about two young lovers with a missed connection who got famous after the shy dorky emo guy made a website devoted to helping to find his dream girl. Through all sorts of odd internet machinations and connections, our young lad had his plight featured on Gawker. This snowballed into a web video, an appearance on Good Morning America and for now I guess, true love. Oh, and also a movie deal.
As I read the story, I wasn't too bothered. Well, I was bothered by the movie deal thing, but I couldn't figure out why. Then it dawned on me. This movie has already been made. May I introduce you all to 2001's On The Line, a harrowing look at post-9/11 "missed connections". No, just kidding, it was some forgettable romantic comedy starring none other than a still in the closet Lance Bass and his friend and fellow future trivia answer Joey "Fat One" Fatone. In fact, the plots mirror each other almost perfectly.
Bass played a shy advertising executive. Patrick Moberg is a shy web designer and freelance illustrator. Bass had a missed connection on the Chicago El. Moberg had a missed connection on the NYC subway. Bass and his best friend (who plays the guitar or something, I don't know) plaster Chicago with Bass' plaintive wailing for his lost love. Moberg and his web celebrity boss Jakob Lodwick plastered the internet with Moberg's cute emo-y wailing for his lost love. Bass' search soon captures the imagination of the public. Moberg's search captures the attention of the public in a mere 24 hours. Cut, wrap and print.
While Matt Elzweig's story admirably plumbed the depths of the internet hype machine that allowed this to happen, I think we're all missing what could be a key element. This was all a con from the start! How can someone's story of true love and all that bullshit almost word for word mirror a god damn N'Sync star vehicle? No, I for one won't be taken in. Oh, and whatever Holloywood agents think this movie is such a charming original idea, I seriously hope you fall in an acid bath.
Buss, a former president of the teacher's union, allegedly wrote that teacher salaries made him sick because they are lazy and work only five hours a day. He praised the teen gunmen who killed 12 students and a teacher before committing suicide in the April 1999 attack at Columbine High School.
"They knew how to deal with the overpaid teacher union thugs. One shot at a time!" he wrote, adding they should be remembered as heroes.
The comment disturbed at least one teacher, who called police in West Bend, 40 miles north of Milwaukee and home of the blog's administrator. Police traveled to arrest Buss at his home in Cudahy, south of Milwaukee, last week after the blogger gave them the anonymous poster's IP address...
Washington County District Attorney Todd Martens is considering whether to charge Buss with disorderly conduct and unlawful use of computerized communication systems.
"If you look at all the factors in this case, it's pretty clear it would be a mistake to charge," said Larry Dupuis, legal director of The American Civil Liberties Union of Wisconsin. "At worst, it was somebody expressing admiration for somebody who did something reprehensible. But the more reasonable explanation is this is somebody who is trying to mock the conservative view of teacher salaries."
Police Capt. Toby Netko defended the arrest. He said the teacher who complained was disturbed by the reference to "one shot at a time" and other educators agreed it was a threat.
"What happens when you say 'bomb' in an airport? That's free speech, isn't it?" he said. "And people are taken into custody for that all the time."
Captain Toby can try, but he won't be winning over this free speech advocate by referencing scenes from Meet the Parents (skip to about 2:50).
The Virginia-born ball-hurler later approached PageSix.com and asked to test-drive our frock as well. “I’m John Maine. I pitch for the Mets! I’m a hot piece of ass!” he kept repeating. He claimed that he was on his way to a drag party later that night.
Really? High profile New York athlete John Maine repeatedly referred to himself as such, as a hot piece of ass and then said he was going to a drag party? Is that, by the way, a party with drag queens or a party with a drag theme? Question questions. For those of you not in the know, Page Six is the rag within the rag that is The New York Post. You know, the trustworthy, Murdoch owned totally non-idiotic paper that costs 25 cents.
Unless Will is planning on turning Deadspin into a low rent version of On The DL, running a story like this with absolutely no photographic/video evidence is just dumb. Is this just me being a defensive Met fan boy? Perhaps. But at least when those naughty college journalists claim they have athletes trying to fuck their co-eds, they come up with the goods.
Is there some kind of anti-IQ test one must take to get on daytime television? Because this clip goes above and beyond the usual religious fundamentalist wackiness and zooms straight to a new level of dumb not seen since, well, possibly ever. By the by, in case there are any television producers reading this, I am completely willing to fail said anti-IQ test so I too can get on television and say things like "The Holocaust predates the Nazis" or "home runs came before baseball." Holla at ya boy.
(Game balls to Durden and radosh)
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Oh, he was mentally unstable. Or perhaps it's because the priests were too busy fondling him. He'd been drinking for days. He was getting a divorce.
Don't care. This isn't the case of someone with a legitimate beef deciding to go apeshit and maybe get a free plane ride to Algeria out of it. It's some drunk, desperate loser who just doesn't know what to do with himself figuring that maybe international media attention will solve all his problems. Please. I don't know what to do with myself either, but you don't see me walking around the corner into the Papa John's with a plastic AK in my hands, do you?
Even better, this schmuck didn't even bring a real weapon with him. Road flares, ooooh, scary scary. Better steer clear of this guy, he just might...brightly alert you to his location to death. If you're taking hostages, especially in a libertarian playground like New Hampshire, go to your local Wal Mart and pick up a rifle. Give us something interesting to titter on about, the whole world is watching.
Getting back to the whys of this whole event, I must again express my severe disappointment that this was not in any way politically motivated. When I started following the coverage on good old Fox News, they originally reported that the suspect was active in kooky political circles and seemed to believe that Hillary Clinton had put a microchip in his head. Of course they got the name completely wrong and spent the next hour or so slandering an innocent man, but that's a small price to pay for my entertainment. Where was I? Ah yes, the reasons.
We're all going to be hearing a huge amount of "divided America" talk in the coming months, what with the election and all. And let's not forget the (allegedly) vicious back and forth between the left and right wings of the blogosphere. When you hear this, do not believe it. Considering we have two wars, a gazillion people about to lose their houses, an economy that continues to screw over the blue collar and immigration tensions, America has a huge lack of politically motivated violence. It's not that we're civilized though. Any country that appears to enjoy Glenn Beck, Bill O'Reilly and Randi Rhodes is not civilized, just sniveling. We have it easy of course, so instead of taking to the streets we let talk show hosts rile each other up in what is in the end just a sad pointless exercise.
This Eisenberg situation could have been the glorious end to all of that. He could have woken up psychopaths all over the country who had similar beefs with the likes of Bill Richardson and Mike Huckabee. The next thing you know, Duncan Hunter is tragically maimed in a roadside bomb incident and Joe Biden is begging some nut to put the knife down and talk. Why should these assholes be any safer from grudges than you or I?
We could have had another Ronald Ward. Instead, Leeland Eisenberg gives himself up without a struggle, without one road flare set off in anger and we're stuck with news stories about his bail and "new security worries" which I'm sure don't take into account, oh, let's just say a dangerous nut with really convincing lightsaber replica. It makes the sounds and everything!
Saturday, December 1, 2007
In pulling the trigger on this deal, the Mets get the defensive catcher they wanted while making Johnny Estrada expendable. The Mets also get a proven gap hitter in Church (43 doubles playing in spacious RFK) who does all that gritty and scrappy shit that white people love about David Eckstein. Except that Church also posted an OPS+ of 114 lat year, something David Eckstein has never ever done. Ever.
But no one cares about that. They care about the fact that the Mets parted with the previously talked up to high heaven Lastings Milledge. The next Gary Sheffield, the next Mickey Mantle, the next...Alex Escobar? Yes folks, let's not forget that for every Jose Reyes there are ten Alex Escobars. For every David Wright, there's a Generation K, a trio of abject failure I am unfortunately old enough to remember well.
So why the visceral reaction to the deal? Well, to be fair, Milledge's name came up in mega deals for stars like Manny Ramirez and Barry Zito. All off-season we've been hearing his name in the Johan Santana, Erik Bedard and Dan Haren chases. So with the expectations that he would fetch us something great, we end up with something that is most definitely not greatness. Fair enough. However, I'm willing to believe his stock had fallen around baseball circles, and if that's true, no matter what the New York hype machine says about him can change what professional scouts and GMs think.
But I also think this goes deeper, into the very psyche of what it means to be a fan. I argued about the trade with a friend last night and he felt the Mets should have just held on to Milledge if this is all they could get back for him. But why? He put up solid numbers in his limited playing time last year, but it's not as if he established himself as the next Miguel Cabrera. If he ended up worse this year, where would the Mets be? No, this is about that notion that your own team's prospects are somehow the pure and right way to go about building a baseball team. I understand that train of thought, because I am after all, a fan. That doesn't mean it makes any sense. Met fans especially should be open to trades considering key pieces of our last championship and last World Series appearing teams were found through trades of top prospects.
I rooted for Lastings Milledge because he was a Met and because Wallace Mathews didn't root for him. I thought he hustled and unlike some people, I found his exuberant high fiving of fans after his first home run to be a sign of wanting to do well as opposed to gloating. But I didn't "grow up" with Milledge, nor did any of you. We didn't actually know anything about him as a man, only as a ballplayer. And from a strictly ballplayer perspective, if Milledge ends up as a Jay Payton or a Preston Wilson, then I can't honestly say we're missing that much.
So good luck Lastings, I really do mean that. Stop by the Brickskller on your first homestand and try not to let Adams Morgan have too much of a hold on you.
Well this New Yorker will has to give it to the people of Utah. Because if the showing of the religious, tolerant people of that reddest of Red States is any indication, we're not so different after all. Why else would they boo the shit out of Derek Fisher, who took a smaller contract to live in a city that could better cater to his daughter's medical needs? The same Derek Fisher who came back to play with the team in their second round defeat of the dangerous Golden State Warriors in last year's playoffs. The same Derek Fisher whose daughter has a rare form of cancer.
Maybe next time Utah will pay more attention to medical science than faith healing. Until then, I suppose they can show their class in booing the father of a young cancer patient.