SimCity is the ultimate time killer. Time is Nicole Brown Simpson, and SimCity is OJ. I have played various versions of SimCity since before I was a teenager, when I got SimCity for the Super Nintendo. It was like a drug; I spent the following summer in a SimCity induced haze, a friend and I baked on the couch in front of pixelated grids of streets and railroads and blocks marked with R or C or I.
If the Super Nintendo version was pot, then SimCity 4 for the PC is crack. I fire it up, and then all of a sudden 4 hours have gone. Where did they go? I'm not sure - I was busy fine tuning my transportation network (needs more elevated rail!) All I know is that I had lunch, sat down to play, and now its time for Judge Judy. Take that, vacation!
Here I have made the world's most dangerous skate park. Some teenager overshoots that right edge, and he's in for about a 75 foot fall to the pavement.
This is how poor people live. The highway and the train tracks go through your neighborhood, but there is no on-ramp or station there. All of the noise, none of the benefits.
Don't try and tell me these pictures don't make you want to play SimCity. You know they do.
I fucking love Christmas music. Next to the egg nog, the food, and the presents, it's the best thing about Christmas. Seriously. Christmas music is awesome. And I'm not talking about all the Jesus crap. The good, fun, Christmas music. I refuse to let the Christians take the fun out of my Christmas. I embrace the commercialism, the consumerism, and the drunken revelry for the holiday. Plus it's cool to give presents to people I care about. Even if they tell me not to.
This is one of the reasons that I was absolutely giddy when I saw that Weezer had cut a Christmas EP this year. Seriously, Weezer. Christmas music. How could that not be awesome?
Oh, bring us a figgy pudding and a cup of good cheer
We won't go until we get some;
We won't go until we get some;
We won't go until we get some, so bring some out here
That's right. Drunken carolers going around to rich people's houses, serenading the with song. What did they want in return? Some goddamned figgy pudding and a cup of good cheer (aka my Mother's egg nog).
In the words of Ira Glass: "[Christmas] was celebrated the way we celebrate New Year's Eve now. [...] Roving bands of toughs went from door to door, demanding drinks and making threats. There was riotous noise making, massive public drunkenness. You can understand why these rich guys just hated it."
Thank you Rivers Cuomo, for singing "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" with the enthusiasm that makes me believe that Weezer is actually a roving band of toughs.
And it doesn't stop with wonderfully rambunctious secular Christmas music. Tracks 2 through 6 of the EP are: O Come All Ye Faithful, O Holy Night, The First Noel, Hark! The Herald Angels Sing, and Silent Night.
Those are some goddamned religious Christmas songs. To be sung with reverence and solemnity.
Nobody let Weezer know this. They turn these downers into upbeat poppy/angry feel-good and drink some 100 proof egg nog fun songs. (Alright, Silent Night is still kind of downbeat, but I can't stop rawking out to Hark! and The First Noel.)
Christmas With Weezer is a digital-only album. It can be purchased from Amazon or iTunes for less than five dollars. It's awesome, and you should go buy it. You should go buy it right now. Because I want a "Part 2" next Christmas.
I no longer watch The Price is Right when I am home on a weekday. I have closed the book on that chapter of my life. Instead I watch Maury. Maury has three specialties: out of control teens (send 'em to boot camp!), unfaithful spouses (send in the sexy decoy!), and men who may or may not be the father (take a paternity test!). Today is the best kind of Maury: the paternity test. There is even a catchphrase:
"DeShaun: when it comes to the case of two-year-old Clarence... YOU ARE THE FATHER!!"
The reveal of paternity is, in most cases, the anti-climax. The best part are the testimonials by each party, alternately assigning or denying paternity of the child in question. The women are typically between 100 to 1 million percent sure that he is the father. The man, for his turn, will accuse the woman of having unprotected sex with friends and neighbors.
The question of the baby's appearance will also feature prominently in the discussion. The baby does or does not have his nose, or his eyes are squinty like a Chinese person, or his skin is too light/too dark. Michael, in his denial of Alicia's three children, hit the trifecta:
"The oldest girl? She looks like a Mexican. The second one? We wasn't even together then! And that third baby? He must be a space alien!"
Before revealing the results of the test, Maury will, in his smug,
faux-caring manner, demand that the father agree to "step up" and "be a
man" if the result is that he is the father. Maury behaves as if he believes what he is doing is actually helping bring these families together and helping these children. Maury is, as you imagine, completely full of shit.
The only time that the reveal is not an anti-climax is when it is revealed that the man is... not the father! The woman, publicly shamed as a trollop, will begin to sob and streak to the recesses of Maury's backstage while a cameraman trails her to get every last tear of camera. Meanwhile, the man, cleared of all charges, will strut around the stage, arms raised in triumph, reveling at his accomplishment in not impregnating a woman he was nonetheless foolishly having unprotected sex with.
This show is like a 72-car pile-up of humanity, and I'm just another rubbernecker observing the damage.
By the way: Michael was the father of the space alien and the baby born via immaculate conception. However, the oldest girl may indeed be Mexican, as it was not his.
When the Giants lose their first playoff game a week from Sunday, you can look back and blame me for this column. I am about to jinx them by rating which AFC team represents the most interesting Super Bowl matchup, from 1 to 6.
6. Miami Dolphins
I'm not going to lie. When I had the idea for this list, I thought this spot would go to New England or the Jets. Can you imagine it? The Patriots: A rematch from last season, when the underdog Giants swooped in and ruined the Patriots perfect season. The Patriots would be back for revenge, this time as the underdogs. What a great matchup that would have been.
Or the Jets: New York vs. New York. Brother against brother, father against son, obnoxious jerkoffs against loudmouth assholes. The subway Super Bowl, even though you can't ride a subway to Giants Stadium or Tampa Bay, where the game would actually be played.
But instead, we get the Dophins. The best I could come up with is that their coach is named Tony Sparano, which is pretty close to Tony Soprano, like in that show that took place in New Jersey, which is where the Giants play, even though they are actually called the New York Giants. Damn it all.
5. Baltimore Ravens
Rematch of Super Bowl XXXV, when the Ray Lewis-led Baltimore Ravens defense held the Giants to one special teams touchdown in a 34-7 pasting. This matchup might be more intriguing if there was more than a single Giants starter left from that Super Bowl run.
4. Pittsburgh Steelers
Two stud quarterbacks from the draft class of 2004, Eli Manning and Ben Roethlisberger, each go for their second Super Bowl ring. As an added bonus, my employer is a Steelers fan, so excessive gloating on the day after the Super Bowl could have severe career ramifications.
Did you know that there is a burger joint in Pittsburgh that has an item on the menu called a Rothelis-burger, which is made with a 7-pound beef patty in honor of the number worn by the QB? I think 7 might also be a reference to the number of people in Pittsburgh who still have jobs today.
3. Tennessee Titans
You probably think that this game is interesting because it would represent a matchup between the two top-seeded teams in the playoffs, or the two teams who were at the top of the standings all year, or because it matches the Giants against Kerry Collins, the quarterback who took them to Super Bowl XXV. You would be wrong.
No, this game is interesting because it matches two teams whose names mean the same thing. Giants! Titans! This game is going to be huge!! Get it?!?!? Most exciting Super Bowl matchup for me since the Buccaneers played the Raiders.
2. San Diego Chargers
In 2004, the Chargers drafted Eli Manning number one overall. He refused to sign with them, forcing a trade to the Giants. Who did the Giants send back? Philip Rivers, the number 3 overall pick and current QB for San Diego. Rumor has it that Chargers fans are still not incredibly pleased with Eli. This could be the biggest potential storyline in the playoffs, if not for...
1. Indianapolis Colts
Manning vs. Manning. Eli and Peyton, fighting it out for their mother's love in the biggest game of the year. NBC, the network that airs the Super Bowl this year, will have a collective boner for 2 weeks. Advertisers will be falling over themselves to throw money at them. It will be the most watched Super Bowl in history. Oops, they got a semi right now just thinking about it.
It will be the most over-hyped storyline since Jerome Bettis going home to Detroit to win a Super Bowl in his final game. In fact, I'm already sick of it. Every advertisement in the month of February will have either Eli, Peyton, or Archie, who will probably send a sample of his sperm to the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton after the game.
That is, unless the Giants lose to the Eagles in round 2. Dammit all.
What's better than getting together with your Jewish mother for Christmas? Serving pork chops!
The ban on pork is the most ridiculous part of Judaism (and remember, Judaism includes a ritual where the entire family gets together to watch a baby boy's penis mutilated. Hungry yet?) It's like having a ban on candy, or fun, or love. Pork is the most versatile of all meats. So pigs are a little dirty. That is why Moses invented soap. Wash it and eat it!
Daytrader makes the best pork chops. After feasting on government pork during a busy day on the trading floor, nothing is better than coming home to a big plate of delicious battered actual pork. Here is his recipe for Trading Floor Pork Chops.
That's the closest we ever came. Just 0.1 centimeter between us.
Six hours later she fell in love with another man.
Directed by acclaimed Hong Kong filmmaker Wong Kar-Wai, Chungking Express is the the tale of two Hong Kong cops; specifically, their love lives. Normally this would be the pitch for a buddy cop film, 48 Hours in Asia or some other crap.
This is not the case with Chungking Express. The cops, although walking a similar beat, don't seem to know each other that well. They simply eat at the same noodle bar. The film is distinctly broken into two acts; the first follows Cop 223, who has just been dumped by his girlfriend. To get over the heartache, he calls her parents, calls old girlfriends, and buys a bunch of canned pineapple.
Of course, he falls in love again, with a woman in a blonde wig who is not exactly an upstanding member of society.... she is not the woman from the quote above... that is Faye, who works at the noodle shop. And the other man she falls in love with? Cop 663.
I'm not going to discuss their story at all. It's the purely magical half of the film, a contrast to the moodier first act. It is enough to say you won't be able to listen to "California Dreaming" ever again without thinking of the film.
Why Haven't I Seen It?
Let's see. It's a foreign film without explosions, with subtitles, and without a compelling narrative.... it made around $660,000 at the US box office, and is not something you're going to run into on cable.
The film, popular among cinephiles and with Quentin Tarantino, does not have a strong narrative plot. Things happen in the film, but they are secondary to its cinematic construction. If this isn't something that tickles your fancy, by all means, ignore this post and skip the film.
Why Should I See It?
That said, there are plenty of reasons as to why one can absolutely, positively, fall in love with Chungking Express. It is beautifully photographed; it's as if Wong and cinematographer Christopher Doyle are making love to their subjects for one hundred straight minutes.
No, not literally. But in a 'making love with the camera' sense. Wong uses slow motion like it's going out of style... and the colors... ooh the colors. Neon glows, rainy streets... And the music! The Cranberries in Cantonese, California Dreaming all over the place, the original score....
So, if you're open to non-mainstream filmmaking, not adverse to subtitles, and a fan of pretty (moving) pictures, give Chungking Express a spin. I can't promise that you won't be disappointed, but you may discover a new cinematic love....
I think my parents might be turning into hoarders. You know those people that never throw anything away? They haven't gone so far as to look through other people's garbage for things to bring back home, but I also wonder if this is only because there is nobody else's garbage around to go through.
Going through the cupboards to identify which items they needed to make pork chops (watch this space for the recipe!), Daytrader found this:
There is no date or marking to indicate when this item was manufactured. This product has apparently been discontinued; it is not included on their website. I wonder if I could find a market on eBay? All indications are that these clams have been in the house for a decade or more. CLAMS.
Obviously you've read The Road by now, since I recommended it months ago. In the post-apocolyptic future it foretells, the remaining humans live by scavenging for canned goods left behind, the remnants of humanity nourished by the remnants of industrialized society. But if the man and his son found this can of clams, I do not think they would eat them. I think they would take it, and the man would express excitement to his son at the prospect of having some real clam chowder. Then they would open the can, and the realization would hit: this was not a can of clam chowder. It was a can of clams. That is when they would kill themselves.
Now that the Giants have taken care of business against the Carolina Panthers and locked up the top seed in the NFC, I hope I can stop hearing about how the Giants can't win without Plaxico Burress.
In the car on Sunday before the big game, I actually heard this from a sports talk "expert" on the radio:
"I think that Plaxico Burress is more important to the Giants than Brandon Jacobs. Yes, I know that the Giants have won without Plaxico, and that Jacobs is important to their running game, but I just think that the Giants can't win without Burress."
Wait: so even though the Giants have won without Plaxico, you don't think they can win without Plaxico? Does somebody dress you in the morning, or do you do it all by yourself?
All this talk started because the Giants lost two games in a row. Did you know that two games now constitutes a losing streak? Yes, they dropped from 11-1 to 11-3. Their season is over!!
Fortunately, Giants coaches knew what nobody else seemed to be able to figure out: the only game they needed to win the rest of the year was the game against the Panthers. Even if they lost that game they would still get a first round bye in the playoffs, but winning at home against the Panthers would lock up the number one seed.
That's it. So no need to rush Jacobs back before he was ready. No need to dig too deep into the bag of tricks. Because losing a game or two at the end of the regular season doesn't mean anything. Because the NFL is not like college football.
Somebody who enjoys college football explain to me:
Why should one or two losses at the beginning of the year completely end somebody's season? Why should it matter what your margin of victory is? Why are colleges allowed to schedule games against clearly inferior opponents? And why are they allowed to play more games at home than on the road? And why don't they play the same number of games?
This year's championship will be played between Oklahoma (12-1) and Florida (12-1). Texas (11-1) was left out, even though Oklahoma lost to Texas. Does this make sense to anybody who isn't me? You know how it would make sense? If Texas had lost a playoff game. But they didn't, because the simple concept of a playoff still manages to elude the brain trust behind college football
And I don't wanna hear about who won what conference or tradition or blah blah blah. If it takes you more than 3 seconds to explain yourself, then it is dumb.
Why did the Giants win the Super Bowl last year? Because they won every game in the playoffs. I did not have to bring up margin of victory or strength of schedule or conference strength or anything like that. Because the NFL is real football. College football is like a Salvador Dali painting of actual football.
Season 4, or 5, or something, of The Hills just ended. I can't actually count all the way to 5 anymore without significant effort - such is the effect of direct exposure to The Hills. Hopefully it will wear off in a few minutes. But the Suze, like all women, is without defense to its wiles. Is that a sentence? Words are hard right now.
Listen: I'm getting to a point. One good thing came out of the Hills. It is below, in the following clip, courtesy of The Soup.
"This is crazy that all this is happening while Lauren is gone."
What is that a euphemism for? Watch the clip again, and it will be clear. It is a euphemism for "I am too dumb to understand what you are talking about so I must deflect attention to a completely different topic." Somebody gettin' all up in your grill about superstring theory? Got bitches all over you wanting to talk about the difference between covalent and ionic bonds?
It is crazy that all this is happening while Lauren is gone.
Of course, the power of this phrase (mantra) goes beyond simple misunderstanding. Use it to deflect uncomfortable political or religious conversations. What is your opinion on gay marriage? Do you think that we should be using taxpayer dollars to bail out private industries? Do you accept the Lord Jesus Christ as your Savior?
It is crazy that all this is happening while Lauren is gone.
You know what really grinds my gears? Pretty much everything about the game of football. Jesse has been making me watch alot of football lately, and I have to say... this game is pretty goddamn irritating. And no. It's not because I'm a girl. It's because
there are just some things are fucking stupid about the sport of football.
For
instance, somebody tell the quarterback that his job is not to get the football
and then stand there before getting tackled. His job is to throw the
football! Throw! The! Fucking! Football! Throw it! I even get mad when the
quarterback I'm supposed to be rooting against does this. I guess my
anger at somebody paid millions of dollars failing to do his job right exceeds
my caring over who wins some stupid games.
Speaking of not caring: I don't care who is "In The Hunt" for a playoff spot.
This is a stupid phrase. Nobody is hunting anything. Is
phrase even grammatically correct? Do you go "In The Hunt" for deer? No, you go
fucking hunting. And when you catch it, you kill it and eat it. And I
doubt the Dolphins or Cowboys are turning to cannibalism any time soon
(however, this method would ensure a spot in the playoffs).
But that phrase isn't even half as dumb as "Control Your Own Destiny."
Are they "In The Hunt" for a playoff spot, or are they questing for a
magical spear that can be used to destroy mankind? Stop trying to make your
sport sound like a fantasy novel read by pimply teenage boys or a made-for-TNT
movie.
And guess what: when I go into a business meeting with a client, I don't stand
up and introduce myself as "Suzi, graphic designer, Rensselaer Polytechnic
Institute." You know why? Because nobody cares what college I went to. (Well,
that and everyone would think I went to a 2-year tech college after earning my
GED.) But if I was a football player, apparently everybody has to know what
college I went to, because it is somehow relevant to what is happening on the
field. Hey, football player who introduced himself as attending the "U
Already Know" yesterday: no, I don't already know. And I don't care.
And finally--quarterbacks who can't be bothered to look up at the fucking play
clock before getting a delay of game penalty... What is your fucking deal? Or
perhaps you just need a refresher on simple math. That's just a penalty
that no one should get unless they want to get flogged in the middle of the
field.
And don't even get me started on the name... Might as well call it soccer. The only time the foot is involved is when they fuck up, and they have to kick the ball to the other team. Hey, fuckupball. Now there is a name that makes sense.
"While it is legal to hear bid ideas from audience members, on that
September 22, 2008 taping, CBS Standards and Practices and host Drew
Carey were both suspicious of some audience members during the bidding.
As a result, there was a 45-minute shutdown between the Showcase
presentation and reveal on that taping. Some in the audience noted
Carey's cold, subdued reveal of what should have been one of the show's
most historic moments was related to the suspicion that the production
staff had on the win."
So what of it? Did Terry Kneiss, the Perfect Bidder, actually cheat?
Presumably, the only evidence of cheating is the bid itself. Perfect. Also, incredibly unlikely, as revealed by the fact that nobody had ever done it before. But is this evidence in and of itself incriminating enough?
Jim, in his comments, notes that there have been previous winners who were as close as $1 to the actual retail price. I would also make the following observations:
- If Mr. Kneiss had previous knowledge of the bid prices, I would expect him to bid slightly under the actual retail price, rather than the exact retail price, for fear of drawing suspicion on himself. Why risk an exact bid?
- Mr. Kneiss was in the second position, meaning he could not know ahead of time which showcase he would be bidding on. He would then have needed advanced knowledge of both showcase prices.
Instead of using the bid as prima facie evidence of Mr. Kneiss' guilt, let's examine that claim further. What are the odds of getting a showcase bid exactly right?
For this analysis, we will make some assumptions.
- Any person getting to the showcase showdown will be a reasonably skilled bidder. As such, his bids will generally be within +/- $10,000 of the actual retail price.
- Bidders are much more likely to bid a round number (say, $25,000 instead of $25,162). I will estimate that 3 out of 4 bidders guess round numbers.
If a typical Price Is Right showcase bidder is able to get within a $20,000 range of the actual retail price, that makes the initial odds 1 out of 20,000 that the bid will be exactly right. If we further weight the bids such that a round number (say, $1000 increments) are more likely to be bid by a 3:1 margin, the odds drop. If, say, the value is $25,162, and there is only a 25% chance you will even bid a number that is not an increment of $1000, then the odds shift accordingly, from 1 in 20,000 to 1 in 80,000.
These are long odds, but they are not ridiculous.
Consider: there have been 7,000 episodes of the show taped so far, with 2 showcase bids each show, for a total of 14,000. That is 14,000 chances for an exact bid.
Every instance there is a bid, the odds are 79,999 out of 80,000 that it will not be exactly right. If this process 14,000 times, the odds of no exact bid ever occuring are:
(79,999/80,000)^14,000 = 84%
That means that, after 14,000 instances, there is a 16% chance that an exact bid HAD occurred. Unlikely, but not zero. Any event which has a non-zero probability of happening, however small, will eventually happen if given enough chances. That is why, despite odds of 100 million to one against, somebody eventually wins the Powerball after enough tickets are sold. Terry Kneiss is the vessel by which the hands of fate showed The Price Is Right viewers the power of infinity.
And Drew Carey? That motherfucker RUINED MY CHILDHOOD.
You know what really grinds my gears? Things that claim to never end. Infinity is a scientific concept, not a reality. How dare you tell me that something will last forever or that things will never end. You are violating physics! Next thing I know you'll tell me that the earth was created in 7 days by some magical magician man. Now that's too much.
I'm talking about you Pizza Hut. I find it hard to believe that your PANormous Pizza never ends. IT NEVER ENDS!!! Are you for real [Interrobang] How can you make a claim like that [Interrobang] Watch this commercial (sorry about the bad quality...I'm too lazy to find something better). When Pizza Hut says that this pizza will never end it actually says on the screen that it is "over 40% bigger than our large pan pizza". When I'm watching the Golden Girls and the commercials come on and I finally lose my wood from all of the 60 year old sex talk and then I hear something like "pizza that never ends" that is literally a cock tease. How is this allowed [Interrobang] Grrrr.
And what do you think comes on after that Pizza Hut commercial. This commercial for diamonds. First of all bucko, love doesn't last forever. Just pick up this weeks US Weekly and look at the front cover saying that J-Lo and M-Ant (that's what I call him) are splits-ville. I mean when I think of love their relationship is the first thing that comes to mind. Second of all, I know that you are implying that a diamond is the second thing. I mean it certainly isn't that elderly couple. I think that guy is already dead. I'll give you that diamonds last a long time. But how is anything longer than time [Interrobang] THAT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE!!! God (Oh yeah...that's what they call that magician guy.) I want to slap someone [...come here Rose...]. I guarantee you that before time ends that diamond will end. So there De Beers...suck on that. You jerks.
And I know that there are probably more false advertisements out there, but lucky for them that they don't make Lifetime's Golden Girl demographic...but maybe they'll make Will & Grace's...hehe.
I woke up and found you creepin' [tip-toe tip-toe] Oh girl I know your secret [you been dippin on me] Got them McNuggets lovin [you went to McDonalds] It just ain't fair Why can't you Share your love with me
Nice song. But you're still not getting any of my crispy, juicy McNuggets.
Girl you got a ten piece please don't be stin-jaaayyyyyyyyyy
-----
cuckold (n.) - A married man with an unfaithful wife. cluck (n.) - The characteristic sound made by a hen (i.e. female chicken) when brooding or calling its chicks.
cluckold (n.) - A married man whose wife sneaks out on him to get some Chicken McNuggets and won't give him any.
She leaves in the middle of the night, in a rainstorm, without telling you where she is going. Obviously you are concerned: I can see it in your deep, soulful eyes. Then she gets back, and she's got McDonald's. But did she get you any? No. Did she even ask if you wanted any McNuggets? Obviously not, because it seems like you really, really want some. But if she wasn't going to share, she at least could have eaten at the restaurant, or in the car. She did not have to eat them in front of you, and not let you have any. She did that because she is exerting her dominance over you. You are being cluckolded.
If I can offer a little unsolicited advice? Dump. That. Bitch.
In this morning's column, Bill Simmons (actually, one of his readers) brings up a recent episode of the Price Is Right that I hadn't heard about yet:
"This is the new high point of announcing low points. As anyone who has
watched this show knows, you rarely see anyone sniff $500, let alone
$100 of their showcase showdown total. So what do you have here? The
first contestant comes within $500 of the Showcase Showdown, then her
opponent beats her by hitting the number right on the head!!!! He got
it exactly!!!! This could have been -- in the arms of a decent
game-show host -- the greatest game show moment of all-time."
In case you haven't seen it yet, I need you to watch this.
During the summers and days I stayed home from school sick during my youth, I would always watch the Price Is Right. I loved it. I've been told that, when I was a baby, one of the first things I learned how to say is, "A NEW CAR!" and that it was my answer to anything. "Jesse, do you want something to eat?" "A NEW CAR!" "Jesse, have you seen your sister anywhere? She's been missing for hours and we can't find her." "A NEW CAR!"
And, as we all know, once we get to the showcase showdown, anyone who bids within $100 of the actual retail price of their showcase wins both showcases. In all the hours I spent watching Bob Barker and the Price Is Right, I never saw anybody win both showcases (I think it actually might be $250 or $500 now, but whatever).
Now the first person is within $500. I might not have ever seen that. $500! On a $31,000 showcase! That is amazing, but reasonable: she's within 2%. But the second guy got it EXACTLY. RIGHT. HE. GUESSED. IT. EXACTLY. RIGHT. THAT. IS. AMAZING.
That is not just a perfect game. That's a perfect game with 20 strikeouts. That's scoring 100 points in basketball. That's a 3 minute mile. And Drew Carey didn't just botch the moment, he completely RUINS THE MOMENT. It couldn't have been worse if Carey pulled out a gun and just shot him in the face. This guy bid $23,743 and got it exactly right. Who bids a number like that? What if he bid $23,744 and was over by $1? Would he have gone home and hung himself? He would have at least spent the rest of his life thinking about it, right? Drew Carey, act like what you just saw was amazing!
Instead, Drew Carey pulls down his pants, squats, and pinches out an enormous turd on the moment. He might as well have wiped his ass with the Mona Lisa afterwards.
He is scum. He is dead to me. I am not watching the Price Is Right until Drew Carey is fired. No more new cars.
As you may have guessed, I'm typically a big fan of giving and receiving presents at Christmas. However, this year, Suzi and I are asking that you do not buy us anything. Please consider the following:
Suzi and I are spending a not insignificant amount of money on plane tickets to fly from Houston back to the Northeast to spend this Christmas with you. Therefore, we do not feel that we can take on the added expenditure of Christmas presents. So, if you buy us presents, we will have nothing for you. That will make us feel bad. Specifically, it will make the Suze feel terrible, and if the Suze feels terrible then we ALL feel terrible.
Houston is warm. Right now it is 70 degrees out. The Northeast is cold. Last I heard, it was actually a frozen hellscape of ice and snow and death. Therefore, we will be packing bulky sweaters, jackets, coats, hats, mittens, scarves, thermal underpants, boots, and possibly blankets. Also, we do not want to check our bags. Our bags will be completely full. There will be no room to pack the presents that you should not buy for me. I will have to leave them behind.
And, finally: the task of instructing all of you to not buy presents has been given to me by Suzi. If you buy us presents, it means that I have failed. Please do not make a failure out of me. The best present you can get me is to not get us presents.
The Suze asks: Hey, my kolaches just came out of the microwave, but one is hot while the other one is cold. What gives?
What gives is that The Kolache Factory doesn't have a rotating platter in their microwave ovens. Microwave ovens, as you might have guessed, heat food by emitting microwave radiation into the cooking chamber. Microwave radiation is defined as that portion of the electromagnetic spectrum with wavelengths from a millimeter to a meter in length. This places it, in terms of wavelength, in between infrared and radio waves.
Science!
Follow closely, as this shit is about to go science on you: the manner by which energy is absorbed from the microwave radiation into your food is called dialectric heating. Water is a dipole molecule. That means it has a positive charge at one end, and a negative charge at the other end, like the magnet on the right. When the microwave radiation passes through the water, the water molecule rotates like a magnet trying to align itself along the direction of the radiation. Because the microwave is pulsating, the direction of the alignment changes, causing the water molecule to rotate. This rotation generates heat, cooking your food.
Kolaches!
Okay, so now we know how the microwave is working: but why did it only cook one kolache and not the other? Because the microwave energy is not distributed evenly throughout. Here comes the science again: microwaves are like waves in the ocean, with a crest (the top part of the wave) and a trough (the bottom). When microwaves cross each other, it creates interference. The interference can be destructive (when a crest meets a trough) or constructive (when two crests or troughs meet). Where it is destructive, there is less energy. Where it is constructive, there is more energy. This destructive and constructive interference within the microwave chamber creates, for lack of a better term, "hot spots".
That is why most microwaves these days have rotating trays. As the tray rotates, different parts of the food move through the hot spots, allowing the food to heat more uniformly. But at The Kolache Factory, their microwave had no rotating tray. So one kolache, sitting in a hot spot, was nice and warm. The other, which was not in a hot spot, remained cold. And you, the Suze, were left with one cold, cold kolache.
Hey, I have a new internet friend! As you all know, all you need to do to be my internet friend is link to me or, uh, actually be my friend. Sam Wilkinson over at Brief Essays With Pictures is of the second variety, as he linked to my article taking Lexus to task for their horrible Christmas ad.
And I have to say, I'm a little jealous. Sam posted some comments on an article by Jon Henke. Henke's article takes Democrats to task for questioning the patriotism of Republicans. No, I didn't get the party affiliations mixed up in that sentence, that is actually what he was arguing. But I'm not here to pile on Henke. No, I'm just jealous because Sam actually got Henke to come to his blog and argue with him in the comments!
Awesome. The only fights I can successfully pick are with 16-year-old girls.
Smoking is bad for you. Lung cancer, asthma in children, heart problems, increased health care costs, yadda yadda yadda. We all agree. For this reason, President Obama must stop smoking.
Because I am worried for his health? No. Because I am worried for mine.
He. Looks. So. Cool. I want to smoke. President Obama, please stop smoking. It makes you look awesome.
You are panicked. There is only a week left to shop before Christmas, and none of our suggestions have been any good. The people on your list don't like media or clothes or charity. They are wild cards. How are you supposed to know what to get these people unless we help you?
Deep breath. Failure is not yet assured. You may have to dig a little deeper into your pocket, but that is the premium you must pay. Here are the gifts for the wild cards on your list - all for $300 or less.
From the top, I would like to make two things clear:
1) I was incorrect in my last cooking segment when I said that Sandra was the only Senna sister who could cook. Selma can also cook a little bit. (Suzi? She can bake, but the cooking, not so much.)
2) This recipe is NOT the same recipe that comes on the label of Thai Kitchen Red Curry Paste. It is not. Selma added water chestnuts. TOTALLY DIFFERENT.
Permanently. First off, despite what schmaltzy movies may tell you, the filibuster was mostly used for evil. See blocking anti-lynching laws, or Strom Thurmond blocking civil rights legislation. But in the past, they were very rare. In the last 15 years, however, they've changed from last ditch measure to regular occurance. Now to filibuster something, the Senator's don't even have to actually do it. They just announce their intention, which results in a cloture vote to end debate. If it doesn't get 60 votes, the measure is considered filibustered and fails.
This is incredibly stupid to begin with, but it's made even worse by being in the Senate, where every state gets equal representation regardless of size. A filibuster coming from the 20 smallest states would represent an incredibly small number of actual people.
Moreover, the filibuster isn't particularly essential to the rights of the minority party since the American system has a wide variety of points to kill legislation. Both chambers of Congress must pass it, then they have to agree on the exact wording (lots of bills get massively changed here), then the president has to sign it, and even then the courts can kill it whenever they feel like it.
But since killing the filibuster when one party controls both chambers and the executive would garner deservedly terrible press and distract from the goal of actually accomplishing things, the very least they can do is ACTUALLY MAKE THEM FILIBUSTER. Some may ask why this insane and clearly ahistorical interpretation of filibuster intent is allowed. Some have suggested that Majority Leader Harry Reid (D-NV) suffered from a botched gender reassignment surgery, and under his suit consists solely of one huge, gaping vagina. Now me, I'd say that's a bit unfair, but it'd be irresponsible not to report on the possibility. Really though, if Mitch McConnell wants to spend his Christmas on the Senate floor reading a phonebook with the goal of killing off thousands of jobs in the middle of a recession, let him. But for the love of God, don't count him voting 'no' on cloture the same as doing it.
LATE ADDITION: Here's some evidence for my assertion that lots of filibusters is a new and ahistorical thing (h/t Ezra Klein at the American Prospect)
Philip Petit is a self-taught high-wire walker who was blessed with the skills, charisma, and enormous balls required to pull off the most daring high-wire act the world will ever see. In 1974, Petit and his accomplices sneaked into the World Trade Center, carried 3 tons (yes, that is tons) of rigging equipment to the roof, and spent the night stringing a steel cable between the north and south tower. As dawn broke, Philip stepped out onto the wire and spent the next 45 minutes suspended between the towers. He walked back and forth 8 times. He layed down on the wire. He did a somersault. He did all this at a height greater than anyone has or will do it again.
The film chronicles the events leading up to the walk. How Philip saw a notice about the construction of the towers and was instantly inspired. How he trained and plotted with his group of accomplices. How they managed to get all the equipment past security to the rooftop and get the whole rig assembled completely undetected. And the amazing walk itself.
There is some recreated footage, but it is remarkable how much film was spent documenting the process. Philip and his crew knew they were doing something amazing, and wanted to be able to share it with the world.
In case you haven't caught on yet, this is a documentary. This actually happened. I walked out of the theater wondering: what other amazing things have happened in the world that I am completely unaware of?
Why haven't you seen it?
Man on Wire was released to a relatively small number of theaters earlier this year. It just came out on DVD last week. You haven't had the chance to see it, and you might not have heard of it yet, but you will. In fact, once Oscar time rolls around it will no longer be eligible for the Movie Night Movie Project, because it will win Best Documentary Feature. Mark it down on your Oscar pool ballots now. You just got one point. You are welcome.
Why should you see it?
There is a famous optical illusion, called "Daughter or Mother In Law?" It is a picture that can be seen as either an elderly woman or a young girl. It came to mind when thinking about this movie. Man on Wire can be seen one way when taken at face value, but the terrorist attacks that brought down the twin towers color the entire proceedings in a way that could not have been anticipated. Consider an early scene, at the site we now call Ground Zero. There are no towers, just a pit with some construction equipment inside. It is a scene we are all too familiar with. Except it is not, because this footage was taken thirty years ago; we are watching the beginning of the construction. Our modern day context informs the way we interpret all the events of the film. It is no mistake that the filmmakers completely ignore the ultimate fate of the towers, the old woman. They want you to see their movie, and their incredible achievement, as the beautiful girl.
I have spoiled the ending. Petit and his crew are successful. But you know this going in, even without my input; why would there be a movie if he had failed? Plus, the poster for the movie sort of gives it away. And yet, through a combination of archival and recreated footage, the movie builds suspense. It is a structured like a heist movie. Imagine that the equipment was to crack a safe at the top of the towers instead of walk between them, and the first half of this movie would play almost exactly the same way.
And that walk! The photographs and film that they captured that day is incredible. I just got a little dizzy thinking about it.
Did you know Eliot Spitzer is still alive? And he has a column on Slate.com? And yes, it is in fact Disgraced Former New York Governor Eliot Spitzer(tm), not just some unfortunate jerk with the same name. Today he writes about the failed auto bailout:
"We all know that a significant downsizing of auto-industry capacity is
necessary. Maintaining all three companies is probably not economically
feasible. We also know that the incipiency of bankruptcy tends to focus
the mind and produce real offers. Why don't we tell the current Big
Three that $25 billion in capital is available--but only to two of them?"
He wants to dangle the money in front of the 3 auto makers, and then have them fight it out to decide who actually gets bailed out. Incidentally, this is the same process he used to decide which hookers to have sex with.
Okay, low blow, but this idea is still a complete joke. Even as we watch the slow-motion collapse of our economy brought about by a slavish devotion to the concept of the free market, I still need to listen to nonsense like this. We are going to create a MARKET FOR GOVERNMENT BAILOUTS? Are you serious? I don't know, maybe my irony detector was malfunctioning as I read this. Go back and tell me if Spitzer was being serious, or if this was meant to be a "Modest Proposal"-esque essay on the state of free market economics.
"Although the Census Bureau reported that nominal retail sales decreased 8.4% year-over-year (retail and food services decreased 7.4%), real retail sales declined by 10.1% (on a YoY[kevin: Year over Year] basis). This is the largest YoY decline since the Census Bureau started keeping data.
Retail sales are a key portion of consumer spending and real retail sales have fallen off a cliff."
Don't worry though, lame-duck Senate Republicans filibustered the Big 3 bridge loan last night, ensuring that the automakers will fail at the worst possible time, increasing unemployment 1-2%! The economy is totally strong enough to handle that, not to mention the human misery that comes from hundreds of thousands of people being laid off in one location at once.
And let's not pretend it's about 'fiscal conservatism', the money is not just trivial in comparison to the financial bailout, but it's roughly the cost of a week in Iraq. Even George Bush realizes that this would be a disaster, there's a reason he's on board.
After spending over $300 billion dollars to bail out banks with absolutely nothing to show for it, the US government, specifically the Senate, has decided that we do not have $15 billion to loan to the American auto companies to keep them from failing. Talks failed last night when the United Auto Workers union would not agree to an immediate reduction in union wages. Republican Senators wanted union workers to accept wages commensurate with those paid to non-union workers in other US auto plants, which would amount to a reduction of approximately $10 per hour (inclusive of benefits). UAW and Democrats countered that the auto companies should honor the current contracts, but they would accept the proposed wage reduction when those contracts ended in 2011.
This proved to be a deal breaker.
For some perspective, consider: despite the hand-wringing about the cost of high wages and benefits to current and retired workers, labor costs account for approximately 10% of the cost of a union built car. In other words: UAW members could volunteer to work on the assembly lines for free, and the car companies would still need the bailout.
What we have here, then, is some good old-fashioned union busting. And, I have to admit, Republicans have the UAW by the balls: either tear up your current contract right now, and along with it any ability you have to ever enforce a contract with your employers again, or your employers will likely end up out of business.
$300 billion to the companies that made the bad investments and caused the problem to begin with. These companies did not have to give any meaningful concessions. But the auto companies, who employ people who actually make a product and helped build the middle class in America, get nothing unless the union completely forfeits all its contractual rights.
Sometimes, because of familial, social, or professional obligations, you have to give gifts to people you hate. True, you could fight against the unfairness of these societal constraints, but ultimately this leads to a life spent in isolation in a lonely house in the woods of northeastern Pennsylvania with no working car while the bears root through your garbage. And nobody wants that. Instead, we here at ObscureCraft suggest that you go the passive-aggressive route: give a gift to charity in that person's name.
What are they gonna say? They have to say thank you, because giving to charity is The Right Thing To Do. But in the end, they didn't get fuck-all from you. Instead of being win-win, it is win-lose; but the win goes to you! So, here to help you help the world and stick it to that person on your Christmas list that you hate, are the ObscureCraft suggestions for passive-aggressive not-really-a-gift-at-all gifts to charity.
With apologies to my mom and Suzi, there has never been anyone regularly in my life that could cook well. I've had brushes with greatness - up until a few years ago, the undisputed champion of cooking in my life was Jim's mom. Unfortunately, after the first Thanksgiving we spent in Florida, Jim's mom had to cede the title to Suzi's sister Sandra.
But in Jim's mom's defense, she never had a chance against table cream.
If I may quote the name of the Facebook group I just created: "Table Cream makes food taste like magic." It's true. But don't take my word for it - try it for yourself. Here is Sandra's table cream-tastic recipe for Freaky Fricasse.
This is an undoctored screen capture from ESPN.com this morning. Okay, well, the scribble all over it is mine, but the image of CC Sabathia is untouched.
"The deal isn't done, but a source told ESPN.com that there are 'zero major road blocks.' The source went on to add, 'Well, unless CC sits in the middle of the road. That would block it pretty good, AMIRITE?!'"
While watching the Panthers/Buccaneers Monday night game, the Suze asked: Why do the referees use hand signals to indicate penalties? Don't they have microphones?
The answer is not, as I originally stated, that the NFL has a larger-than-usual following among deaf people. Instead, the answer is a combination of utility and tradition.
Here's the utility: When football was started and microphones were not available, the hand signals were necessary as a way for the referees to signal to the press box and the coaches on the sideline what penalty had been called. The hand signals are still used in that capacity today - you may notice, the Suze, that the referee will signal the penalty to the sideline before announcing it over the PA system. This gives the coach the opportunity to indicate whether or not they want to accept the penalty (on procedural penalties where the coach will not ever decline, such as a false start, this step is skipped). The hand signals are also used exclusively in football games throughout the country at the high school level and below where microphones are not available to the refs.
However, you, the Suze, are not at a high school game, and you are not the coach on the sideline (although I would absolutely LOVE to see that). So why do you need to see the hand signals? Tradition, plain and simple.
It is tempting to say that Kanye West has officially jumped the shark with "808s and Heartbreak", but that isn't right. I firmly believe that Kanye can go back to creating fun, catchy, and interesting music. No, he didn't jump the shark: this is Kanye's "I'm Keith Hernandez" record.
It makes sense, right? The Ye gets widely ridiculed for his ego, but if
you actually listen to him rap you know that the ego is a thin sheet of
ice covering the sea of his insecurity. For just one example from his music: on his last record,
"Graduation", the entire last track is Ye whining that Jay-Z, who gave
him his break as a producer on 2001's "The Blueprint", doesn't give him
the respect he deserves. And he is notorious for flipping out on his blog, most famously at an Entertainment Weekly
reporter for giving his "Glow In the Dark Tour" a B+. His response?
Yo, anybody that's not a fan; don't come to my show. For
what?! To try and throw ya'll two cents in? Ya'll rated my album shitty
and now ya'll come to the show and give it a B+. What's a B+ mean? I'm
an extremist. It's either pass or fail! A+ or F-! You know what, fuck
you and the whole fucking staff!!!
Now, I don't know this to be fact, but I'm betting I'm not too far off base in saying that the West does not take criticism well. Obviously this is part of the territory: you don't make it through the inevitable years of rejection all the way to the top of the music business if you don't believe in yourself. But Kanye is an extremist: it's either an A+ or an F-. He has given himself an A+.
So maybe there were people in Kanye's life that were telling him, "Hey, Kanye, are you sure you want to do all the beats with just an 808 drum machine? Part of the appeal of your last three albums has been the great production values on the music tracks," or, "Kanye, your raps are hot but you are not a singer, are you sure you don't want to just rap and bring it a guest vocalist to do the melody?" But Kanye just said: "Fuck you, I'm doing this whole album with the drum machine and an auto-tuner. You get an F-."
Let's hope he got that out of his system, because "808s and Heartbreak" is terrible. I didn't believe it until I listened to it, but it is true: he uses the auto-tuner on every track. Every single one. And it is already annoying halfway through the first track.
But it isn't just the auto-tuner. Kanye and his auto-tuner show up on the third track off of John Legend's "Evolver", called "It's Over", and that track is sizzling (ps: Listen to "Evolver" by John Legend). On "808s", it is the whole package that fails: the auto-tuner is horrible, the beats are limp, and the lyrics are rote. I can't believe the same guy who brought us "The way school need teachers/The way Kathy Lee needed Regis/That's the way I need Jesus" is now bringing "How could you be so/cold as the winter wind when it breeze, yo".
Okay, Kanye. We get it. You can do whatever you want. You are Keith Hernandez. But this time, you get an F-.
The Suze asks: "Why do we call homeless people hobos? Where does that word come from?"
First, let's get one thing straight: most of the people we call hobos are not actually hobos. They are either tramps or bums. Yes, there is a difference. The guys we see sitting under the overpasses? Those are bums (or, in the parlance of Houston, "campers"). They are non-itinerant non-workers. A tramp is an itinerant non-worker. They travel, but they are not doing so to find work. A hobo is an itinerant worker. They have no home, so they travel from place to place looking for work. They are the most noble of all homeless people. Also? Bindles.
So you and I, the Suze, call those people hobos because we are using the word incorrectly. However, why are actual hobos called hobos? Nobody knows for sure, but there are lots of theories.
It could be a contraction of a two word phrase used to describe them. Some examples: Homeward bound. Houston and Bowery. Hoe-boy. Hopping boxcars. Homus bonus (latin for good man). Homeless body.
It could come from the city of Hoboken, New Jersey, which was a large railway hub in the late 19th century (note that much of hobo lore is centered on the railroad, as this was the preferred mode of travel of your average hobo).
The bo could be an adaptation of either boy or beau; thus, the word hobo would be a contraction of the greeting "Ho, boy!" or "Ho, beau!"
"[i]n the course of my study of the Japanese language for military purposes, I came upon the word hobo. In the Japanese, hobo is plural form of ho [which means]
'side'. In the plural it takes the meaning 'all sides' or 'everywhere'.
As the meaning seemed to fall in so closely with the current American
idea of hobo, I at once felt that here was the original form
of the word.... The word originated on the western coast of the United
States. This lends further color to the theory of its Japanese origin."
OJ Simpson was just sentenced to at least 9 years in jail. Weird that they finally got around to sentencing him... didn't he kill his wife, like, 14 years ago?
Whatever. Despite the delay, the people have not forgotten. Here are the top ten search terms on Google right now.
That's a whole lotta OJ. In fact, if it weren't for people questioning the authenticity of Barack Obama's birth certificate, the whole top 100 might be OJ.
The saddest thing? Numbers 1, 7, 8, 29, 38, and 88 are all searches by people trying to find out what concurrent means. Well, that and the fact that he killed his wife. Those two things are both very sad - you might say that they are sad CONCURRENTLY.
The ObscureCraft holiday shopping guide is back for part 2. Clothing is, by far, the hardest type of gift to buy. Entirely apart from questions of taste is the fact that I can hardly buy clothes that fit myself. How in the world am I supposed to buy clothes for you? And with girls it is doubly hard: if you buy something too big, they think that you think that they are fat. And if you buy something to small, well... then they actually are fat.
Thankfully, clothing isn't just Gap sweaters and 7 different pairs of jeans on one Christmas anymore (thanks mom!). Here to help you out are your ever-vigilant ObscureCraft contributors, who are on the lookout for the gifts that will Save Christmas(tm). As with part one, all gifts are $50 or less. (Surfing at work note: there is a picture of a sexy lady after the jump).
["Dear Prudence" is published every Thursday on Slate.com. For the original column, click here.]
Dear Prudence OC: I work in a small company of about 30 employees. My co-workers and I don't know what to do about our boss. Our company is in serious financial trouble. I make up the entire accounts payable/receivable department, and if it hadn't been for a big check we received from a company that owed us, we wouldn't have been able to send out our last payroll checks. I'm really worried about our boss' suicide "jokes." She frequently will jokingly ask me or another of my co-workers for a gun or a knife. She even crawled onto the windowsill in my office and had her bottom half hanging out until I grabbed her and pulled her back in. I told her recently that I was not going to take these questions as jokes anymore and that the next time she mentioned a gun or knife, I was going to call the suicide hot line. Her response was to walk over to my phone and say sarcastically, "Sure, let's do it now! I'll dial, you talk." She later came back and said, "I hope you know I'm never serious about that." One co-worker suggested we try to convince her brother to admit her to a psychiatric ward. But unfortunately she is the sole decision-maker regarding practically everything we do, so without her, I don't even know how we'd be able to run on a day-to-day basis. What should I do?
The date was December 2004. In a quiet, snow covered fraternity house in upstate New York, all were preparing for initiation/finals/binge drinking. In those days the TV was mostly used for Law & Order reruns, and due to the TNT advertising blitz, we were soon made aware of a wonderful event coming the next weekend: a TNT original movie! This was no ordinary made-for-TV film, however, it was a groundbreaking work of genius, starring such luminaries as Noah Wiley, Bob Newheart, and Kyle MacLachlan.
The story is timeless: Noah Wiley, a lovable nerd with a heart of gold, has 23 degrees but can't manage to find a suitable job or romance. His mother worries. Then one day, a magic letter totally different than the ones in Harry Potter arrives! His wide array of knowledge lands him the job: Librarian at a secret, undercover archive where all the magic artifacts throughout human history have been kept. One of these is the Spear of Destiny, an artifact that gives unparalleled power, and for that reason was broken into thirds. Even still, Hitler rose to power with just one piece!
Soon enough the spear is stolen by a sexy Asian assassin and a ridiculously scenery-chewing Kyle MacLachlan, and a world-spanning chase not at all a blatant ripoff of Indiana Jones follows. It climaxes in Bob Newheart's only fight scene, as he rips off his tie, shouts "Semper Fi" and starts punching ninjas.
We watched, entranced, as TNT played the film three times in a row. By the end, something like Stockholm Syndrome had taken over, and to this day The Librarian: Quest for the Spear is cherished. An inferior sequel followed, and honestly I don't remember a whole lot about it aside from not having the same love interest from the first movie. It was also more toned down and a little less silly, which was a bad call.
But this weekend, The Librarian: Quest for the Judas Chalice debuts! Noah Wiley vs Dracula. They're going there, and if you appreciate fine film, you'll be there too!
I wasn't going to comment on this. I was going to leave it to the screeching, hypocritical talking heads like Stephen A. Smith and the hysterical back pages of the New York tabloids. Yes, Plaxico Burress, star wide receiver for my beloved New York Football Giants, shot his own self with his own gun in a night club last Friday night. Now, he's probably going to spend some time in jail for illegal gun possession. What a dumbass, right?
Or, as Stephen A. Smith shouted in his column (yes, he even shouts in his columns):
"The embarrassing and precarious set of circumstances Burress finds
himself in clearly are not an indication of the behavior exhibited by
most players of any color in the NFL, particularly African-Americans.
The vast majority of NFL players have some sense.
And it's a fact that those who have displayed their idiotic ways have
paid dearly for it -- in dollars and jail time. Yet Burress still
managed to screw up by placing himself, literally, in the line of fire
despite the body of evidence flashing in players' faces as a deterrent."
It is all so predictable. A superstar athlete runs afoul of the law, and is immediately followed by the cacophony of righteousness from the sports media and the law, with current New York City Mayor and member in good standing of the Lollipop Guild Mike Bloomberg demanding that Burress do hard time.
But the problem is that Burress' immature behavior is, and always has been, inevitable. Burress has been a star athlete since high school, and maybe even earlier. When has anyone ever told him no? Burress carried a gun because he was afraid of getting mugged because of all the jewelry he wore when he went out. Burress had the gun in the club, even though the club doesn't allow weapons and knew that he had it on him. They let him in anyway. Then he accidentally shot himself and checked into a hospital under a fake name, where the hospital tried to cover for him by not reporting the gunshot wound to the police.
How about: don't get a gun, Plaxico: take the goddamn jewelry off instead. Or: you can't come in with that gun, Mr. Burress, it's against the law. And that is how it has gone his whole life. Yes yes, whatever you want Plaxico, act like a goddamn child, just go out and catch them footballs real good!
I don't think he's dumb. Intelligence is just a measure of how well you learn, not how much you know, and I'd say that Plaxico has learned what he has been taught pretty well: if you are rich, you can do whatever the hell you want.
The spot: Christmas morning. A girl in a nightgown stands in her posh living room next to a pony with a bright red ribbon on it. The scene is painted in a slight sepia tone, giving you the impression of the past. The girl addresses the camera: "This is Dolly! Don't you remember how excited you were? Yelling so loud the neighbors came over?" Cut to the front door, where the neighbors enter, along with their own little girl. "Remember how jealous Ann Marie was?" the little girl asks with a sly grin on her face, as the neighbor girl drops her own pony doll in disbelief. Closeup of little girl's face: "Dolly was the bestest present ever. Nothing could ever be more..." match cut to face of grownup woman. "...Perfect." She completes the thought, now standing in front of a Lexus sedan with a large ribbon on it. The voice-over jumps in to tell us that we should make this a "December to Remember" by leasing the new Lexus RS-350 for only $399 a month.
The National Bureau of Economic Research released their findings yesterday that the United States economy is in a recession, and has been for the last 12 months. This comes as a shock to nobody who has paid attention to the news: the collapse of every major investment bank on Wall Street, the tightening of credit markets, the precipitous drop in the stock market, and the subsequent layoffs and cutbacks in the workforce have all been making daily headlines for the second half of 2008. The uncertainty in the job market, combined with the unavailability of credit, is predicted to have a devastating effect on the Christmas shopping season.
This time of year typically brings sales and financing deals at all retailers to entice buyers, but there is a desperation in the air that is new. On Black Friday, Jdimytai Damour, an employee at a Wal-Mart on Long Island, was killed when a throng of shoppers waiting in the parket lot shoved in the doors and trampled him to death on their way to discount merchendise. Two other people died in a gunfight in a Toys R Us store in Southern California.
But you know what? FUCK ALL YALL, BECAUSE I AM GETTING A LEXUS. Hey, let's invite the family of that WalMart employee over to my house so I can rub it in their face, just like I rubbed it in the face of that little girl when I got that pony. Remember that? When I got a motherfucking pony for Christmas? I was all like, "daddy, can I have a pony?" and he was all like, "of course you can, sweetheart, cause I want to make sure that you grow up to be a spoiled horrible woman. My dream is that, in a time when people will step on a brother to save $20 on a DVD player, you will have a husband who will drop 40 large on a car without even consulting you. Because you just have so much goddamn money, 40 large on a car is like, WHATEVS, baby."
Lexus holds a "December to Remember" sales event every year, and every year I've thought to myself, "Jesus Christ, are there really people in the world who buy each other luxury cars as presents?" But this ad finally explains it to me. I get it now. If you lived in a huge house with a stone fireplace and celebrated Christmas morning with a pony, then you get a Lexus. Otherwise, you have to trample immigrants to death on the way to the discount racks on Black Friday.
I love the holidays. For the past 5 years, Suzi and I have flown to Florida to have Thanksgiving with her family, and it is always a treat finally having a Senna woman cook for me. When we get back, I put some lights up in the window, and start getting into that holiday spirit. But in between, there is darkness and evil.
There is Black Friday.
The traditional start of the holiday shopping season, Black Friday is one of the worst days of the year. I hate going out to the stores, and I hate staying home and watching news stories about going out to the stores. The insanity that makes someone wake up at 4am to get a deal on a DVD player is the same insanity that leads to a Wal-Mart employee being trampled to death, and to a gun fight breaking out in a toy store. It is an ugly, ugly spectacle. And the ugliness lasts for over a month.
So, ObscureCraft is here to help. Instead of spending hours shopping for the perfect gift, why don't you just sit back, relax, have some egg nog, string up some lights, and bask in the non-shopping awesomeness of the season and leave the shopping to us.
I've asked our roster of ObscureCraft contributors to make gift suggestions. The first part covers media: that is books, DVDs, CDs, etc. All the suggestions are priced under $50, and can be purchased online. Enjoy!
Jesse suggests: The Watchmen, a graphic novel by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons. ($11.99 at Amazon)
I'm going to go out on a limb, and guess that you know at least one nerd. (Actually, its a pretty safe bet that you yourself are a nerd, but I digress.) Unfortunately, chances are that the nerd in your life has already read The Watchmen, because it is a touchstone of the nerd world, like Star Wars and not kissing girls.
But here's the thing: even if you aren't a nerd, you still like Star Wars. Sure, you don't dress up like a storm trooper or know the name of Boba Fett's pet rat, but Star Wars was also #15 on the list of AFI's first 100 greatest films of the last 100 years list. Well, the Watchmen is like that: geek heaven, but also objectively awesome, as indicated by its place on Time Magazine's list of the 100 greatest novels of all time. So, if you know a nerd who somehow has missed reading this, show them you know what's up. And if you are a nerd, show the non-nerd in your life that just because nerds like it doesn't mean its not completely awesome.
Jim suggests: Assassination Vacation, a book by Sarah Vowell. ($11.20 at Amazon)
Asking me to recommend a single media item is like asking Michelle
Duggar to choose her favorite child. There are just so many choices.
I'm going back and forth between such old favorites as the Nic Cage
Wicker Man movie, the very-soon-to-be-released Criterion Blu-ray debut
(Chungking Express), and who knows what else.
That said, my choice is Assassination Vacation, a book
by Sarah Vowell. In the book, Vowell takes historical tourism to the
next level as she retraces the steps of the assassins of Abraham
Lincoln (John Wilkes Booth), James Garfield (Charles Giteau), and
William McKinley (Leon Czolgosz).
You'll find out about the multiple locations that
hold Lincoln's remains, how Oneida cookware is created by a strange
religious/sexual cult, and how that contributed to Garfield's death,
and about a possible romance between anarchist Emma Goldman and Leon
Czolgosz.
The book is a very quick read-- its tone is light
and funny, despite the dark subject manner. Assassination Vacation is
the perfect gift for friends and family. Assuming your friends and
family have a rather dark sense of humor, and are interested in history.
Daytrader suggests: The New York Giants Super Bowl XLII Championship DVD ($24.99 at NFLshop.com)
You know all those movies about how the nerdy kid beats out the douchebag jock and gets the attractive girl? In this version, the nerdy kid is the New York
"football" Giants, the douchebag jock is the New England Patriots, and
the supposedly attractive girl is the Vince Lombardy Trophy. There is
plenty of heavy-hitting, Tom Brady sacks, and several minutes of hot
ball-on-helmet action. I recommend that you watch this DVD before the
sequel comes out in February.
The Suze suggests: Season 1 of the Showtime series Dexter on DVD. ($28.99 at Amazon)
Bloody funny. That's how I describe Season 1 of Dexter, a Showtime
series. Our main character is Dexter Morgan (Michael
C. Hall). He happens to be a serial killer who's also very hot. The
catch: he only kills bad people. Murderers, rapists, pedophiles and other assorted bad guys meet their (what I consider a well-deserved)
demise with lots of duct tape, saran wrap, oh, and right--knifes. Not as
gruesome as you might think, Dexter is extremely witty and one of the
top three best-written shows I've ever had the pleasure of watching.
The first minute and a half of opening credits alone is enough to buy
the entire season. So buy it. Watch it. Take notes. It's very educating.
I fucking 
