Mad Libs, Rounds 19 and 20

Just the facts, ma’am:

19. PLURAL NOUN
20. POSSESSIVE PERSONAL NOUN (such as “banker’s” or “idiot’s”)

That’s it – get your Mad on.

Rob

UPDATE:Time to vote! The nominees for Round 19 are MONKEYS, VAPORS, SQUELCHERS andWRAPPERS. Round 20 is a different story; we’ve just got three nominees, since“my” is a possessive pronoun, and won’t work in the text. Choose from among:CONGRESSMAN'S, AUSTRIAN GOLD MEDAL WINNER'S and GRAND INQUISITOR'S. (Andrew,you’re welcome to do a write-in on this one.)

UPDATE 2: SQUELCHERS and AUSTRIAN GOLD MEDAL WINNER'S bring home the...er...gold.

Mad Libs, Rounds 17 & 18 -- Special Celebrity Edition!

I saw Chris Rock on 33rd St. on my way to work. And Chris very graciouslyagreed to let you imagine his voice calling out the next two categories.So without further ado:

Round 17: BUTTON ON A REMOTE CONTROL!
Round 18: NOUN!

Thanks, Chris.

(I’vebeen working in NYC for three years, and this is my first celeb sighting.Not that gaffers for Sex in the City didn’t get in my way half a dozen times,but this was actually Chris Rock, 4 feet away from me. And he looks justlike he does on TV. That’s how I recognized him. Unless there’s someone walkingaround who in real life looks just like Chris Rock looks like on TV, butcamera crews and the craft services cart lead me to believe it was actuallyChris Rock.)

Be sure to vote in Rounds 15 & 16, everyone!

Rob

UPDATE: Voting is now open, and your choices for Round 17 are: SAP, PANIC and MUTE.Round 18’s candidates are ASTEROID, BILLY CLUB and JUKEBOX. Plus, if youhaven't voted in Round 16 yet, there's a sudden death vote-off down below.So c'mon! Sudden Death! Who can resist THAT?

UPDATE 2: The votes are in! SAP and BILLY CLUB take it!

It's Always Hottah, Under De Watah...

...take it from the Sea Devils.

I don't write about comics nearly as much as I ought to, considering how much I love the durn things. But this afternoon I was reading an old issue of DC's Sea Devils, their scuba-diving adventure team from the sixties. In it, an undersea shapeshifter called the Man-Fish begins to turn the team against their leader, Dane Dorrance (whose long-lost father appears in this issue, inexplicably named John Payton, but that's beside the point). Dane's love interest, Judy, really seems to go for the guy:


To the point where she even tells her boyfriend the new deal:



So in case you were wondering, diamonds aren't a girl's best friend. It's gills, baby. Gills. They make diving much more fun!

Rob
(images from Sea Devils #22, March-April 1965)

Home to Roost

A hearty welcome back to the blogosphere to my buddy Mark, who’s getting the Roost up and running again after a long absence. Huzzah!

Rob

Jack or Glenda?

Interesting stuff: an Australian forensics expert has developed a new DNA testing technique that seems to indicate that Jack the Ripper was a woman. It’s inconclusive, of course—heck, who even knows how reliable his new technique is?—but I still think it’s a neat angle.

But anyone who’s seen Amazon Women on the Moon knows the real story of JTR: He was the Loch Ness Monster.

Bullshit…or Not?

Rob

Mad Libs, Rounds 15 & 16

In a hurry right now, so nothing cute. Here’s what I need:

Round 15: VERB, PAST TENSE
Round 16: ADJECTIVE

Hop to it!

Rob

UPDATE: Welcome to Monday! Voting is now open, and your choices for Round 15 are: SLAPPED, SELF-DESTRUCTED and SPEWED. Round 16’s candidates are SLIMY, HERETICAL and OBTUSE. (Sometimes I feel like I make that choice every November.)

UPDATE 2: Voting is closed for Round 15; SPEWED is our past-tense verb du jour. For Round 16, we're going to have a Sudden Death round vote-off between SLIMY, HERETICAL and OBTUSE. Next vote takes it!

UPDATE 3: Sudden Death is suddenly over! First of all, thank you to Andrew for tossing in an extra vote for HERETICAL. but since Drew had already voted, I'm going to use Jim the Bastard's vote for SLIMY to wrap things up here. Thanks to both of ye.

Nailbiter

CNN is reporting that New Orleans’ new floodgates (to protect the weakened levees) will not be ready to install until July. Mother Nature could not be reached for comment, but a junior staffer has confirmed that she intends to start hurricane season in early June as always.

Rob

Mad Libs, Rounds 13 & 14

Hokeydoke. The double-vision nominating process is going great guns, so lets keep up the pace.

Round 13: VERB THAT CAN BE USED AS A NOUN (another one, yes.)
Round 14: ELEMENT OF A SUCCESSFUL BARBECUE

And yeah, with round 14, I probably could have just said noun, but what the hell. It’s not like this is a GMLOC*-certified game.

Rob

*Global Mad Libs Oversight Commission

UPDATE:Voting is now open. For Round 13 (verb to noun), choose from among CRAP,SQUEAL, SKULL-F*CK and PARROT. For Round 14 (the barbecue fixture), we’vegot GOBLIN, LONG PIG, GLAZED FACE and the everpresent PARROT. Roll yer diceand move yer mice, evvybody.

UPDATE 2: Voting is closed. GOBLIN takes round 14, and will hold a triumph in the courtyard. After a close race, Mrs. Executive Tiebreaker chose to cast her vote for… PARROT. All hail the conquering words!

Mad Libs, Rounds 11 &12

That’s right, we’re putting the Slowest Game of Made Libs Ever in Your Life, Muthafunka into high gear. Or medium gear. Or at least outta park. We’re firing up the afterburners and doing two rounds at once, so prepare yourselves for the lexicographical thrill of a lifetime! Here’s hoping we can keep everything straight, and things get double super-size crazy, now with kung-fu grip!

All hype aside, here are the words I’m looking for.

Round 11: NOUN!
Round 12: ADVERB!

And while you’re here, drop a vote toward Round 10.

Rob

UPDATE: Voting is now open for rounds 11 and 12. For Round 11, your choices are DIRIGIBLE, EQUESTRIAN, SPORK, CHOWDER and PROTUBERENCE. For Round 12, the nominees are TRAGICALLY, WRYLY, METAPHORICALLY, VICIOUSLY and SLYLY.

UPDATE 2: Voting is closed. In a powerful coalition, Sharon and Andrew shifted the balance toward SPORK and WRYLY.

Mad Libs, Round 10

PLURAL NOUN, PLURAL NOUN, friendly neighborhood PLURAL NOUN. Spins a web any size; catches thieves just like flies.

Look out!

This round's a PLURAL NOUN!

Rob

UPDATE: Voting is open, with two nominees: MP3's and JUGS.


UPDATE 2: Voting is closed; a pair of JUGS trumps a single MP3.

Brushy Got The Axe

Because nothing is worse than a mustache when you've got spasm-inducing allergies.

Rob

Love the Lounge

Just a quick heads-up to check out the reclusive barrelhouse piano player, Bobby Lounge. We caught him at jazzfest, and he's a true nutty genius. He was introduced by a huckster Boss Hogg type, and entered the stage via a big prop iron lung (and accompanied by his nurse, who he claims is a contoritonist). He's got some sample mp3s on his site: Check out "Take Me back to Abita Springs," "I Will," and "Ten Foot Woman," and of course if you run into me, I'll be happy to play you the whole loopy magilla. I liked him so much I bought both albums.

Rob

Getting Madder Every Day: Mad Libs Round 7.5

Hi Kids,

It looks like I made a mistake with Mad Libs Round 8. Looking back at it, I wasn’t specific enough: I needed a VERB that can also be used as a NOUN. So I’ve decided to commute the wonderful DEBRIDE to the next present-tense verb coming up (in Round 27, believe it or not!) and call a do-over. If City Slickers has taught us anything, it’s that we all need a do-over every now and then. So like Bob Ross, I’m gonna paint this round over with a happy tree that I like to call:

A VERB THAT CAN ALSO BE USED AS A NOUN (such as “Ride”).

Thanks for bearing with me.

Rob
(oh, and voting is open for Round 9, below.)

UPDATE: Voting is open. Choose from among BEAT, BLEND and GRIND.

UPDATE 2: Looks like it's GRIND.

Registered Sense Offenders

I can't even begin to say how angry this makes me.Especially the mom's self-satisfied attitude at the end. He was a little rude (in an effort NOT to be!) so he deserves to be run out of town? In what universe does that make sense? He should check that book on etiquette outof the library and feed it to her.

And the cops? "Your best bet is to leave the area?" Thanks for protecting the innocent, assholes. Someone needs suing.

Rob

UPDATE: The link above is dead (though I’ll try to find the original story again when I get home tonight), but here’s a link to the Eric Haskett story on Sploid which led me there. Sadly, I don’t think it has the quote from his girlfriend’s mom, blaming it all on him for not coming to the door and dozing off in front of her. (Oops... On second look, it's there after all.)

Looking for Traitors? Check the Mirror.

The first two paras of Frank Rich's new column, "Will the Real Traitors Please Stand Up?"

WHEN America panics, it goes hunting for scapegoats. But from Salem onward, we've more often than not ended up pillorying the innocent. Abe Rosenthal, the legendary Times editor who died last week, and his publisher, Arthur Ochs Sulzberger, were denounced as treasonous in 1971 when they defied the Nixon administration to publish the Pentagon Papers, the secret government history of the Vietnam War. Today we know who the real traitors were: the officials who squandered American blood and treasure on an ill-considered war and then tried to cover up their lies and mistakes. It was precisely those lies and mistakes, of course, that were laid bare by the thousands of pages of classified Pentagon documents leaked to both The Times and The Washington Post.

This history is predictably repeating itself now that the public has turned on the war in Iraq. The administration's die-hard defenders are desperate to deflect blame for the fiasco, and, guess what, the traitors once again are The Times and The Post. This time the newspapers committed the crime of exposing warrantless spying on Americans by the National Security Agency (The Times) and the C.I.A.'s secret "black site" Eastern European prisons (The Post). Aping the Nixon template, the current White House tried to stop both papers from publishing and when that failed impugned their patriotism.

Read the rest. Ah, Frank Rich, how we've missed ye...

Rob

Night One in NOLA

While my New Orleans reminisces will be coming through in a mixed up, jumbled up, shook-up order, this one starts at the beginning. We touched down in Louis Armstrong Airport on Wednesday afternoon and shared a cab to our hotel (the W) with a Jazzfest veteran who recommended restaurants we never got to.

We met our friend Jay in the W lobby, and after dropping off our luggage, headed over to Mother's for Po'boys. On our way there (right across the street, yahoo!) Jay told us about the hotel's grand re-openeing party that night. There'd be free drinks (nice) and, while it was a secret, Lauren Hill would be playing there. Double cool.

At Mother's, we soon learned that the Lauren Hill news was common knowledge among the cooking staff. I ordered a debris po'boy (essentially roast-beef shavings with gravy) and Kathy had a Ferdi's special (baked ham with debris overtop). Slow service, but unquestionably good eatin'.

Plus, we learned that Marcia Ball was playing in Lafayette Square down the road in a coupel of hours. So the three of us hoofed it on over (Jay's wife Nicole preferred to nap) and enjoyed two terrific sets and my first Abita Turbodog of the week.

Next came the party, where the beautiful people of New Orleans mingled with a bunch of sloppy tourists like me, all in search of free drinx. It honestly felt like I was back in NYC, to the point that I started texting Jim the Bastard about it. Sadly, we wandered into an area that was not an open bar (but neither was it clearly marked) and I wound up paying eight bucks a drink for us. But I got to try Tanqueray Ten, which was pretty darn tasty.

To be honest, Jay heard a lot more of Lauren Hill's set than the rest of us did. He stayed downstairs with the crows, while we were upstairs with the shorter lines for free drinky. But from what I heard, she sounded good, and Jay was really impressed with how she led the band, several of which she hadn't met until that day.

After the concert, we headed off to Bourbon Street, which was pretty empty in places. We had a drink in a joint on Toulouse called Molly's, and soon after Jay and Nicole went back to the hotel, Kathy & I did, too. We could have walked farther down Bourbon, but like I said, it was pretty quiet. But it was also Wednesday, which could have been part of the reason. And just in case it was, I wanted to turn in. I said to Kathy "I'll be damned if I let myself get all depressed simply because it's Wednesday."

More later, probably not in chronological order.

Rob

Barbaric Yawp

I JUST WANT FUNCTIONING FUCKING SINUSES, IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK???

...

Thank you. You may now return to whatever's making your life hell.

Rob

Mad Libs Round 9

Lookin’ for NOUN in all the wrong places, lookin’ for NOUN in too many faces…

Rob

P.S. Remember to vote in Round 8!

UPDATE: Voting is open, with one vote already registered for TUSK! Your nominees are: PILE, BOOGER, POLLEN, TUSK!, and TOPIARY. Make your voice heard!


UPDATE 2: TUSK! takes it! Cue the marching band.

Sooo-EEEE!

This here is Razzoo's. It's a bar on Bourbon Street I don't think I've ever set foot in in my four trips to New Orleans. Which isn't particularly noteworthy -- there are a lot of Bourbon Street bars that I've never been in -- except for the recommendation we got on our last day in town. We had stopped into Checkpoint Charlie's,* a bar on Esplanade that I recognized as the first bar in the city that I ever drank in, way back when. (Seriously, when?) The pointer came from Larry the Racist, Misogynistic Barfly, who fascinated me with colorful hogwash and let me pick 5 bucks worth of jukebox tunes for him because his eyes were too bad to do it himself. But he did mention that he'd be going to Razzoo's later (even though it was pretty unlikely that he'd be leaving his stool before breakfast tomorrow). His description of the place? "Ah'll be goin' to Razzoo's, where the wimmin dance lahk wald piiiigs..."

Wild pigs, everybody. I should ask my hunter friends about how exactly wild pigs dance. Careful of the tusks.

Rob

*Fun fact about Checkpoint Charlie's: Both times I've been there, I've lost track of insane amounts of time. Hours, when I would guess maybe only one had passed. It's The Bar That Time Forgot.

Mad Libs, Round 8

I'm looking for a VERB. Got one?

Rob

UPDATE: Voting is open. Three choices this time: CAVORT, DEBRIDE, and RUB.

UPDATE 2: The eerie DEBRIDE takes it, and is magically transported to Round 27 (or thereabouts) because of a blunder on my part. Mea culpa.

Mad Libs, Round 7

I’m back. I’ll have New Orleans stories soon, featuring Jazz, Crawfish, Burlesqueand the Amazing Man Covered in Flour! But until then, here’s the next roundof Mad Libs: I’m looking for a PLURAL NOUN. Make me proud, troops.

Rob

UPDATE:Voting is now open. The nominees are JACKASSES, SQUEALS, FERRETS, and PACKERS(or possibly PACKUUURRS, which I suppose is a reference to some sort of athleticsquad of some type or another, possibly the type who cram into phone boothslike 1960s fraternity brothers). Choose wisely, padewan.

UPDATE 2: Damn if the hiatus hasn’t slowed the voting down. But Packers it is! (Heh heh.. he said “butt packers…”

Mad Libs: The Long Round Six

Something different this time around. I’m about to go on vacation (New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival, here I come!) so you’ve got some time to think about this one (you've also got plenty of time to vote for round 5, below). And what, pray tell, am I asking for? Something you can really sink your teeth into: BODY PART, PLURAL. I’ll be back next Tuesday night to close submissions and start the voting. Didn’t I tell you this would be the slowest game of Mad Libs ever?

Rob

UPDATE: Let the records show that on this day of May 10, 2006, voting was opened on round six of the Slowest Game of Mad Libs in the World. Let the record also show that the plural body parts nominated are UVULAE, TONGUES, SPHINCTERS, ANTENNAE, BRAINS!, NOSTRILS, ASSES and TITS. Let the records also show that voting on round five (below) shall remain open until the four-way-tie is broken, either by another incoming vote or by a consultation with my wife, who does not know the Secret Mad Libs Text. It’s sudden death overtime, so if you haven’t voted, what’re you waiting for?

UPDATE 2: Voting is closed. BRAINS! takes it. Send more cops.

Led Down the Garden Path

It was a productive weekend.

A few months ago, I took a freelance job to proofread a book. Even before the money came in, I decided what I wanted to do with it. Kathy and I had been talking about laying down a small pathway between our deck and what will be our garden on the side of the house. So, money in hand, we picked a weekend. That weekend was this Saturday and Sunday.

We looked at it as a day-long project, but between a couple of extra steps and some shopping detours, it took two days to complete. Given our usual margin of error of plus or minus 1 month, it was right on time. (We made sure to keep Sunday clear in case we needed it, so we have at least that little bit of self-knowledge.)

It was a tricky business, this path. To lay pavers, you need to dig about six inches down in order to give them a firm foundation – you can’t just drop them on the ground where you want them to go. Problem is, our path was on a slope, probably about 20 or 30 degrees. Compounding that, we didn’t want to dig out the upper part of the path; we wanted to build up the area on its sides (or side, actually – to the other side of the path were rotting railroad ties, which, with the help of our neighbor Willie, we replaced with pressure-treated wood). Because of this – the slope, the build-up, the different sides – the ditch was very difficult to visualize. Admit it – you don’t know what the hell I’m talking about.

Even though we planned an early start, much of day one was taken up by the pressure-treated wood follies. After we picked out the 12-foot-loong 6 by 6 ties at Home Depot, they told us they couldn’t cut pressure-treated wood because of the ventilation system; we put them back and went to Lowe’s, who said over the phone that they could cut pressure treated wood. Problem was, the wood we picked out was too thick for the saw. Luckily, they were 8 feet long instead of 12, and we could fit them in the back of the car and cut them at home wit a circular saw borrowed from Willie.

Between replacing the wood and digging the ditch, Saturday was shot. But it looked like Sunday wouldn’t take too long.

Sunday’s task was to lay down the foundation layer of rocks, and then a second, finer layer on which to rest the paver stones. Easy enough to do, even though we realized the path was a little too narrow for our stones and had to be adjusted (and more foundation had to be bought). Then came time to lay the stones.

It turns out that left to their own devices, the stones we chose naturally curve to the right. Or left, I suppose, depending on the direction you’re walking. We got about five stones laid down, and suddenly we were faced with a dilemma: The path was on a collision course with the wooden wall on the side. Eventually, we came up the solution of making the path slightly narrower in places, in a sense resetting the pattern to start again. Since the stones themselves would be surrounded by river pebbles (“Gravilla de Rio,” the bags helpfully said), the path’s width could be visually uniform even when the stones themselves varied.

By 5 p.m., all the river pebbles were poured out (we needed two extra bags of them, too) and the solar lanterns were placed to the side of the path. We’re both really happy with the way it looks, and pretty damn proud that we managed to get it done in the weekend. We’ve got a vacation coming up, and it feels like we earned it.

Rob

Things I Didn't Need To Know

I get a lot of fundraising letters from the Democratic Party and various candidates. I hardly ever read them: I'm not made of money, after all. Still, I just got one from Senator Bob Kerrey, and I happened to read the first sentence. At which point I decided I definitely did not want to continue:

Dear Rob,

When we were in the Senate together, John Kerry and I shared a lot more than a last name.

Needless to say, I didn't read on. Maybe I'm a prude, but I don't expect to get this kind of smut in my inbox unless there are midgets involved.

Rob

Mad Libs Round Five

After a busy weekend, I'm back -- and so are the Mad Libs. For this round, I need an ADJECTIVE. Get to it! (And don't forget to vote for round four!)

Rob

UPDATE: It’s time to vote! Your choices are SOPORIFIC, FOAMY, SAUCY, CHASTE and ROTTEN. The polls will be open for almost a week on this one (due to vacation-related reasons), so you have time to campaign for your favorite to all your friends. Get some grassroots action going on, or a door-to-door get-out-the-vote initiative.


UPDATE 2: Kathy broke the tie, choosing SAUCY... our new champeeeen!

Mad Libs Round 4

The madness continues. Today I need a PLURAL NOUN. Don't we all?

Rob
(And don't forget to vote for Round 3!)

UPDATE: Voting for Round 4 is now open. Your plural nouns are OCTOGENARIANS, BASTARDS, ELK, DILDOS and EDITORIALS. Make your voice heard!


UPDATE 2: BASTARDS wins!

My Nemesis

I don't care what the consequences are.

Brids can fall out of the skies for all I care. Trees can wither and rot. The human lifeline may last no more than another three generations. I don't give a damn.

Whatever its place in the ecosystem, it has to be stopped. Whatever the cost.

Fuckin' pollen.

Can I hear an Amen?

Rob

Preznit Gets the Clicker

This partial transcript of part of today’s press gaggle with Scott McClellan is a freakin’ riot. Sad, too, if true, but really funny more than anything.

Rob

Magic Under Pressure

Jim the Bastard sent me this link at work, but I don’t know if he’s gonna blog about it (and can’t be arsed to raise my voice over the cubicle divider and ask, and it wouldn’t stop me anyway, since you need to know this. Yes, you, my sweet one), so here goes.

David Copperfield was mugged yesterday.

Or rather, he was almost mugged, and he used his superpowers to get out of it. The Superficial writes:

David Copperfield and two of his assistants were robbed at gun point after one of his magic shows Sunday night by three armed teens. The best part of the story is that Copperfield actually did some magic on them, pulling out all of his pockets to show they were empty, even though he had a cell phone, passport and wallet in them.

That’s WAY cooler than making the Statue of Liberty disappear.

Rob

Mad Libs Round 3

I need a COMPARATIVE ADJECTIVE (such as, say, "larger.") Work those fevered lexicons, my lovelies!

Rob

UPDATE: Voting is now open for these five worthy adjectives: BUSTIER (which, I have to admit, on first read I thought was one of my favorite nouns), DEADLIER, SQUISHIER, HOLIER and SKANKIER. Even if you've submitted a word, you can vote (either for your own or someone else's).

UPDATE 2: SKANKIER wins the day! I feel like I'm on MTV's Total Request Live.

Mad Libs Round 2

I need a NOUN. Gimme one!

Rob

UPDATE: Voting is now open for this noun. Your choices are: SQUID, RASTAFARIAN, MANGO, VAPOR and PHLEGM. Now c'mon back and vote! Voting is open until around 10 tomorrow. Meanwhile, a new part of speech is looming just above.


UPDATE 2: Squid takes it, 2 to 1! (And feel free to vote even if you've submitted a word -- either for your own word or another.)

Stupid Games Bloggers Play

Strap yourselves in… for the slowest game of Mad Libs ever!

Here’s how it works: I’ve selected a piece of prose, and have picked out the words that we’ll subsitute. You know, like a Mad Lib. Don’t make me explain the whole mad Libs concept to you. Just the online thing should do the trick, unless you’re a total sore elbow. But every now and then, I’ll post a part of speech. Then you guys post suggestions for the part of speech in the comments section (in the interest of sanity, please limit yourself to one suggestion per round). After a little while, I’ll close suggestions and open the floor (that selfsame comments section) to voting for the best suggestion of the bunch. And then I’ll dutifully alter the original text to reflect the choice.

Sound ridiculous? You’re right! Think it’s prone to fail? Not half as much as I do! But it’s a plan, and I’ll soldier on through it if you will. Don’t make me pick my own plural nouns, yo… it won’t be pretty.

Now that you've got the gist, click here and scroll down for the most recent entries!

So, to start us off, I’m looking for a VERB.

Bring it, fellow babies.

Rob

UPDATE: Nominations are now closed. Voting is open for MURDER, PLAGIARIZE, and CANOODLE through 10 tomorrow morning, or thereabouts. To the comments section, me hearties!

UPDATE 2: PLAGIARIZE takes it.

Pre-K Propoganda

I just heard an interview with two children’s authors on On the Media, and guess what? They’re both assholes. Can we just put this kind of fuckery away when there are children present? Please? Not only is it just plain fucking evil, but it'll bore 'em worse than bible stories.

Rob

Wonderful, Dead or Alive

I was on the treadmill at the gym this morning (more on that later) and glanced up at Good Morning America, which had flashed a scary-looking mug-shot type photo up on the screen. The closed captioning said:

”He’s wonderful. The murders of March 12…”

And I wondered – how the hell do you make that jump from “He’s wonderful” to murder? Even vocally, it seems quite a shift to ask of any anchor.

And then I realized the closed-captioning typist was wrong. It should have read, “He’s wanted for the murders of March 12.”

So psycho-killer guy, whoever you are, just remember. It ain’t just your momma who loves you – the CC operator thinks you’re wonderful, too.

Rob

All the Frills Upon It...

Just a quick note of appreciation to the guys at The Savage Critic (Brian, Jeff and Grahme) for their acerbic comics reviews. Here's a taste (courtesy of Jeff):

WOLVERINE ORIGINS #1: Oh, god. Having Steve Dillon do the art for this is like tying an expensive Easter bonnet on a toothless crack whore--more than anything, it just underscores the ghoulish desperation.

I'm never gonna read this book--despite sweeeet Steve Dillon (Preacher) art--but after reading that, I have to admit that I'm happy it exists.

Rob

Seven Wonders

This morning at work, we were discussing the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, and the Seven Wonders of the Modern World, and I expressed some disappointment that Led Zeppelin IV was included in neither group (1971 is ancient, right?). Then Mike found a site listing the Seven Wonders of Chicago, and which seems a little ridiculous to me. But in that spirit, I present…

The Seven Wonders of My House!

1) The Tivo, which learns to do something new almost every day. From podcasting to playing my mp3s to seeking out episodes of the Dick Van Dyke show and the Twilight Zone, I’m filled with amazement at each new step. It’s like a son to me.

2) The CD racks. In a house as cluttered as ours, our CD collection bucks the trend by actually being alphabetized. I had nothing to do with this, and consider it a failure as a husband that Kathy could even get bored enough not only to try to do this, but to succeed.

3) The marble floor panel in our living room. It used to be a heating vent, from when the devil would burn souls in our basement, but then it was covered up with plywood and carpet. When the previous owners took up the carpet to reveal the (mostly) hardwood floor, they needed a solution for the plywood, and came up with this ingenious panel.

4) The Great Wall of Comics. When we moved in, there was a sizable alcove in the basement that, it turns out, fits my comics collection almost perfectly (excepting trade paperbacks and bookshelf comics, at least). As the years go by, I see the need for either a sledgehammer or eBay. But the Great Wall astounds me every time I go downstairs to do laundry. Sometimes I think I see Darkseid hanging there, merged with one of my long boxes.*

5) Jurassic Dryer. When we do our laundry, our dryer bellows and screeches like it’s full of dinosaurs. I fully expect to get eaten by a velociraptor covered in static-cling sheets one of these days.

6) The ferret cages. A weasel wonderland, with hammocks and tubes and snuggly flannel bedding, these are ingeniously configured so that, in order to re-hang the hammocks after washing, you have to either have a partner or use all four limbs and a tail to position the hooks.

7) The Second-Floor Stasis Field. There’s a room on the second floor which we laughably call the “guest room,” even though it’s the last place we’d ever take a guest we liked. We’ve pulled up the carpeting and stripped the paint off of all the molding around the floor, doors and windows. And then… time stopped. Incredibly, the room looks just as it did six months ago.

So, those are the Seven Wonders of My House. Does your house have Wonders? Let me know in comments, or post them on your blog and link from here. And good god, pass it along to your friends and evil twins. This is a baby meme, and it needs your spank on the ass to get it started.

Rob

* I’m aware that you probably don’t get this joke. It’s just as well, really.

13 days...

...until I'm in a swanky hotel in New Orleans. It's okay to call me a lucky bastard. i can take it.

Rob

Can't Wait, Dr. Girlfriend?

Here are some stills on Jackson Publick's blog from Season Two of The Venture Brothers!

Rob

Like Gettysburg, But With Unstable Molecules

You need this: The Secret Wars Re-Enactment Society.

Rob

Old Joke, Revisited

It occurred to me that I've been hearing this old joke for years, but no one's ever taken it to its next logical step:

Did you hear the one about the constipated mathematician? He worked it out with a pencil.

But I've never heard anyone suggest it was a No. 2 pencil.

Rob

Puffed Rice

Oh, how KTBuffy has suffered.

She went to see Lestat on Broadway earlier this week, and reports back to us. It's the sort of self-sacrifice that's appropriate for Good Friday, if you ask me.

I read Interview with a Vampire in college, and read six others in between chapters, it bored me so. But I stuck with it, feeling sure that there would be some payoff in all the puff. But the only payoff I got was the sure knowledge that if you open one of Rice's books and start reading, you'll soon lack the will for even the simplest of tasks, such as flinging it away. I won't make that mistake again.

But for our pleasure, KT reproduces Rice's bio from the Playbill. It's florid and self-important and everything that's awful about Rice's writing, in one compact package. It is the white dwarf star of Anne Rice.

Go and read. It's like a vaccine: If it doesn't kill you, it'll make you stronger.

Rob

You call THAT sex and violence?

I have totally sold The New Yorker short. This week's Shouts & Murmurs column, "Nostalgia," by George Saunders, is a stone riot. Here's the first paragraph:

The other day I was watching TV and it occurred to me that I’ve become a prude. The show in question was innocuous enough, nothing shocking—just an episode of “Hottie Leaders,” featuring computer simulations of what various female world leaders would look like naked and in the throes of orgasm—but somehow, between that and the Pizza Hut commercial where Paris Hilton and Jessica Simpson engage in some “girl-on-girl” action in a vast field of pizza sauce, something snapped. I know what the problem is: I’m old. I came of age in a simpler sexual time.

Go read the rest. You know you want to.

Rob

From Alan Moore and the CWT

Parents and anarchists, you’ll want to see this.

I hope I got this in under the wire before everyone is sick of it.

Rob

Merry Christmas!

In early December, I ordered a enamel-coated cast-iron Dutch oven from Restaurant Source online. I was told it wouldn't be available before Christmas, but their shipment should arrive from Europe on January 20th, and I would have it soon after that.

May I direct your attention to the birds chirping, the blossoms blooming, cartoon animals frolicking and the happy people walking around without jackets? You might think that signals the arrival of spring, but it really is a result of my wife finally getting her long-promised Christmas present. God bless us, everyone!

Rob

2 AM and Done

Well, the tough part of Spontaneous Combustion is over. I've gotten my assignment (including prepicked first line, location, and cultural reference), written my five-minute play, and read it out loud a few times to make sure it sounds good. It's another odd one, but I think it works.

For those who don't know, Spontaneous Combustion is an impromptu theater festival, in which playwrights write plays on Friday night for actors to have up and running by Sunday. Nothing about the plays -- not the cast, the the script, zilch, nothing, nada -- is known at the beginning of the weekend. Then, given certain parameters (outlined above), playwrights go home and pound the keys until something coherent comes out. Then, on Saturday at noon, we give the scripts to the cast, who read them with horror. They memorize their lines, we block 'em out, and everything starts humming along by Sunday night, when the show opens. Exactly 50 hours from when we first met to get our instructions, as it turns out.

Spontaneous Combustion is a little bigger this time, in a number of ways. For one thing, we have the theater through Thursday, so there are five nights on which you can see the show. Also, it's a fuller night of theater, with several more plays than usual. If you're anywhere near New York City, please come. I'm writing, my friend Jen Thatcher is writing, and I've seen enough of the actors in this bunch perform before, so I expect great things.

Curtain is at 8 p.m., and tickets are $15 (except for Thursday night, which is $25, but with a free party afterward). You can reserve seats (sometimes it sells out, so it's wise to do so) by calling 212-501-4751. Here's the Theatresource website, so you can find directions and whatnot. And I know how you love your whatnot.

So come out and be surprised. I always am.

Rob

You Lie Down With Dogs...

...you wake up with fleas.

I used to have some grudging respect for Curt Weldon. When I lived in PA, he was my representative, and although there were a lot of matters I had substantive disagreements with, I thought he was an honorable guy.

But when a tough election year hits, I guess you show your true colors. And when you're part of the Republican machine, you fight dirty--especially if your opponent is a veteran, as is Joe Sestak.

I guess it's all part of the Repug playbook, trying to politicize a little girl's brain tumor. Atrios has the details.

Mr. Weldon, when my dad had problems with his lungs, we took him out of state. Because we knew the people at Johns Hopkins were going to give him the best possible care. When a loved one has a health emergency, nothing else matters. And it's ridiculous and low to try to make political hay out of it.

I thought you were better than that.

Rob

A Quick Heads-Up

I'm planning on doing Spontaneous Combustion again this weekend, and if you want to come, the show will be up from Sunday through Wednesday at 8 p.m. at Manhattan TheatreSource in New York. Tickets are $15.

More details (and a link) later,

Rob

Snowmiser's Angry

What gives? Blue skies this morning, but 4 hours later, it's snowing? It'sApril. We're supposed to get showers that bring May fllowers. What's next,a rain of frogs? I'm a first-born son, so I'm watching my back, lemme tellya.

Rob

The Barrel Gets a New Bottom

Just when I think the Bush regime can't be any worse...

...comes this story by Howard Altman of the Tampa Tribune: Homeland Security Deputy Press Secretary Arrested

Here are the first two paras:

A Department of Homeland Security deputy press secretary was arrested this evening on charges that he was using a computer to seduce a child.

Brian Doyle, 55, was arrested at 7:45 p.m. in his Silver Springs, Maryland home on 23 charges related to the use of a computer to seduce a child and transmitting harmful materials to a minor after a joint investigation by the Polk County Sheriff’s office, Florida State Attorney Jerry Hill’s office and the Department of Homeland Security.

Now, I'm fairly sure Bush didn't hire Doyle himself. Most likely, he just hired the guy who hired this guy. Who also happens to be the guy who is in charge of our nation's fucking security.

Doesn't anybody vet anything anymore? Christ, what sorry fucking excuse for leaders we have.

Rob

(via Liberal Catnip)

Something for Everybody

The way I see it, there are two kinds of people. Those who want to read a thoughtful and cogent column on immigration, and those who want to read an essay on how good the Mighty Thor is at laying down the smack talk.

Who says you can’t please everybody?

Rob

Come See! Come See!

The Old Fox has this week's Carnival of New Jersey Bloggers up and running!

Rob

I Swear It's Not Me

There's an awful, farty, rotten-egg smell in the art department, and it's drifting this way. I don't believe that the entire office, bottling up a month of collected farts, could make this smell. It's horrible.

Rob
(140 minutes from my next breath)

Work

Because the words came out not twist and shout
Cause that’s not what a grown man writes about
That chapter’s over, let it blow over
I found that I’ve become the owner of a brand new book
—Graham Parker, “Brand New Book”

So with a proofreading job behind me, and a little period research under my belt, I’m rededicating myself to hammering out a rough draft of a very very complicated novel. I’m realizing I can’t just dive into it and have it make any sense, so I’m going to need to give myself an outline. I’ve started using the index-card method – writing each scene down on a separate index card and then examining and shuffling them until I have some semblance of story. (I've had the central concept for years now, but in this last week I've finally begn to find a glimmer of a plot. Whoopee!) Problem is, I wanted colored index cards – I’m working with 3 different time periods, and with similar character names, I need a quick method of differentiation – and the Duane Reade I went into at lunchtime only had white ones. So for now, white ones it is. Ah, well. I’ve got highlighters.

I do have one small project to do in the next week, but I should be able to work on both simultaneously through next week. After that, well, there’s Spontaneous Combustion, which I don’t want to skip, and then clear sailing (awesome upcoming vacation notwithstanding). I guess what I’m saying by this paragraph is that I can’t use all this stuff to put work on this book off until after I come back from New Orleans. Everything but vacation, I can work around. And who knows what my trip to the Big Easy will bring to the project?

Back to Graham:

I read that book for an hour or two
and then I looked up at the night sky
I saw the big dipper and then the big bopper
and I realized how much time had gone by
Every page had something to say
but one thing that struck me as true
The clock just keeps ticking as if you’re not there
Man it either drags you down or it lifts you

Rob

Our Last, Best Hope...

...dashed.

Looks like it’s really over. Arrested Development comes to an end.

Don’t they know there’s always money in the banana stand?

Rob

...but I sure play a mean pinball!

Sometime last night I lost my Internet connection. Despite my best efforts (that didn't involve waking my wife, which would have been the smart thing to do, except for how flat out dumb it would be), I wasn't able to get it working again. So until things change, I may be cut off from the outside world, having only to rely on telephone, television, radio, and possibly a newspaper to get my information. It's like being in a very busy sensory deprivation tank.

Rob
(posting from the office...)

Reads

KT's right: I'm not a big fantasy reader anymore, but any way you slice it, this has gotta go on my list.

Rob

Disappointment

I just came back from lunch and had a brief conversation with Jim the Bastard. He said, “Guess what I’ve discovered?”

I took a stab at it. “Fudgetricity?”

No, as it turns out. But Jim filled me in on two taste treats he enjoyed for lunch, including Thai-flavored potato chips (flavored similarly to traditional Thai cooking, I assume, and not by some sort of extract of the Thai nationals themselves). He also extolled the virtues of the green salsa at the burrito counter down the street.

Just the same, I can’t help but feel a twinge of regret that the secret of fudgetricity is still beyond our reach.


Rob

ZZZZzzzznakes…

Okay, this is starting to get creepy. I actually dreamed about Snakes on a Plane last night.

First, before boarding, I was at home and this big-ass python was slithering around my staircase. I somehow dispatched it with a grenade, which it swallowed before detonation. The python splattered all over my upstairs hallway in a surprisingly regular maroon pattern.

Then came the waiting in line for a ticket. I was very worried about being late, because I knew there would be snakes on my plane. I knew I could catch a later flight, but would the snakes wait?

At last, Kathy and I got onboard, but we weren’t able to sit together. So far, no snakes. I kept on looking to the row behind me, but she didn’t see any snakes either. Then we took off, and soon there were snakes everywhere. We were stepping on them, hitting them with our carry-ons, whatever we could do. But I couldn’t help but thinking that Kathy & I were the only ones of our friends who made it, and thinking how much everyone else would like to be attacked by snakes, too.

I’m sure there are other details, but the thing I remember most vividly is the tension when I thought I might miss my flight, because I didn’t want to miss the snakes.

Rob

Monument

Mark Evanier’s post today (about Chris Bliss and Jason Garfield) reminded me that I wanted to write more about Chris Bliss. Not about his juggling, but about what could be a much more impressive feat. Bliss is spearheading an effort to put up monuments to the Bill of Rights in every state of the union. He's made a good deal of progress in the first state he's worked with, Arizona.

These monuments will be on public land, but funded individual contributions from private citizens. Essentially, Bliss must raise money for the individual monuments while at the same time getting state legislatures to permit their construction. You can hear Chris speak with KMOX radio host Paul Harris about it here, or visit his website, mybillofrights.org.

Needless to say, I think this is pretty cool. The Bill of Rights never gets the respect from the government that it deserves. It’s worse now than usual, but no matter who’s in charge, the government always works against our rights. The Bill of Rights is an explicitly anti-government statement, drawing a line the government cannot cross. The fact that it has been crossed, so flagrantly and insistently, is proof enough that we need to make this document more prominent in our public discourse. Go, Chris!

Rob

Kal-El Gone Wild!

Visit Seven Hells! to see what made me smile today.

Rob

Here we go again

Once again, the President outright says the laws of the country don't apply to him. That motherfucking motherfucker oughta be put in jail. First he fucks us, then he wipes his dick on the Constitution on the way out the door.

Hope you get a goddam papercut, motherfucker.

Rob

Snakes!

Hollywood Elsewhere has a great post on Snakes on a Plane. He concludes:

I'm serious...this is not a DVD thing. Everyone is going to have to go to a theatre with their friends and bark like seals at the jokes and the shrieks and fangs-sinking-into-penis moments.

I'm hoping it'll be like the vibe at the Rivoli theatre in 1985 when I was working at New Line (as a publicist, believe it or not) and we all went to see Reanimator on opening night. That show was one of the best movie-theatre highs I've ever sampled...the kind of rave experience that high and low types can enjoy from the same place.

Rob
(I've had it with these snakes!)

That Mischievous Sprite, the VP

This Wonkette post cracked me up but good.

Rob

Well Said

Writer Steven Grant in his latest Permanent Damage column:

“I tend to hate my work for six months to a couple of years after it comes out, and warm up to it later. This is the sort of behavior that would make me a bad father.”

Amen to that.

Rob

Human Jell-o

I've been listening to Penn Jillette’s show fairly religiously (which he'd hate!) lately, and I he said something that just killed me as I was walking to work. I'm paraphrasing, but this is the jist:

"I think that with most couples who have threesomes, there's always room for Carrot Top."

Rob

V for Video

First of all, V for Vendetta was terrific. See it see it see it.

It's good enough that I don't want to spoil things for anyone. Instead, I want to propose (or predict) a project.

Probably this won't be possible until the DVD comes out, but the availablity of footage always surprises me, so who knows?

One of my favorite sequences in the Moore/Lloyd comic was a chapter called "The Vicious Cabaret." The narration is the lyrics to a song of the same name, the notes of which are provided. The sequence checks in on the plot's many characters as the song descibes their predicaments and reinforces the overall theme. It's awesome -- not just for its storytelling effect, but also as an example of the new approaches Moore was bringing to the comics medium.

Unfortunately, comics are a silent menium. But film's another matter entirely. I'd love to see a fan film that reedits footage from the movie and sets it to the "Vicious Cabaret" music. Heck, I wouldn't be surprised if it isn't already planned for the DVD. But if it's not there, that doesn't mean it can't be done. With today's editing software, arranging, playing and recording the music is really the hard part. And, I have to stress, it would be wicked cool.

Rob

Whither Blogpatrol?

My counter's gone AWOL, and Blogpatrol's homepage is acting wonky. Things'll probably sort themselves out, but does anyone know what's going on?

Rob

Another Round

Mark Evanier has posted another round of There's No Such Website. This time he amps it up to nine possibilities. I'm proud to say I got it in one.

Rob

Carnival Time

The Carnival of NJ Bloggers has once again staked its tent at Sharon's The Center of NJ Life. Swing by by and have some funnel cake. Or zeppoli. Or fry your dough any way you please -- it's all good.

Rob

Garfield the Cat

...as opposed to the tubby little fuzzy human.

Here's the premise: In the Garfield comic strip, Garfield speaks only in thought balloons. Which means that Jon can't hear him. Some folks on a message board have taken away Garfield's thought balloons, putting the whole strip in a different perspective. It's about a sad, lonely man who talks to his cat. Who hates him.

Enjoy!

Rob

Ssssssssssss

It's finally here: The Snakes on a Plane trailer! And it's refreshingly spoiler-free. Just one line, then on to the snakes! On a plane!

Rob
("I've had it with these snakes!")

In a world...

Mark Evanier points out another great voiceover vid, which is actually a trailer for a movie I've long intended to see.

Rob

Call for Tunes

So...

I'm writing a novel. I've decided to set the juvie nonfiction aside for a bit and dig my heels in and see what I can create out of my own sorry head.

Idiot that I am, I'm not making it easy on myself. Part of the novel is set in the 20s, an ear I thought I knew somehting about until I tried to set a scene there and was continually flummoxed by little details that could mean a great deal to the plot. So now I've got a book to read about everyday life in the era, to give me some sort of grounding there.

The other thing I need is jazz. These 1920s pages need to fizz like illegal champagne, and I'd like a soundtrack to write by. Do any of you have or know of any good collections of music from the 1920s? Soundtracks of movies set in the '20s? If you do, let me know. It's a whole different world I'm looking back on, and I want to know what it sounds like.

Rob

Offered Without Comment

Click Here.

Rob

Peace Through Slugfests

The first issue of Spectacular Spider-Man published in Arabic (by Teshkeel) has finally been released. This may not be the stuff that ends wars, but it’s exactly the kind of thing that makes peace last. When we’re entertained by the same things, we tend not to beat the tar out of each other.

Here’s the link.

Rob

Eye of the Beholder

Atrios on V for Vendetta:

"Anyway, I haven't actually seen the movie, but if a movie about a fascist tyranny has people freaking out because they view it as a critique of the Bush administration I think that says more about their own view of the administration than the filmmakers'."

Rob

Up the Academy

Wow.

I didn’t realize grapes even got that sour.

Rob

Do Not Call

Something just occurred to me: I’d always been taught that “Taking the Lord’s name in vain” is saying “God damn this” or exclaiming “Jesus Bellydancin’ Christ!” when you’re surprised. But isn’t publicly thanking Jesus for inconsequential stuff (like, say, a touchdown) also taking his name in vain? I think everyone who thanks Jesus for crap Jesus doesn’t care about should get an short but immediate cell-phone call from JC, saying “Lose my number, dickhead.” Is there a substantive difference between “Thou shalt not take My name in vain” and “Thou shalt not IM Me every 30 fucking seconds with thanks whenever you have a particularly satisfying bowel movement?”

I know, I know – I’d make a lousy savior.

Rob

Poof! It's Gone!

I decided to take down my last post. Upon reflection, making fun of someone's profession of faith -- no matter how oxymoronic -- strikes me as meaner than I want to be. Maybe I'll think about it a little more and revise it. Maybe I'll think about it a little more and not post at all. Or maybe I'll forget about it by the time I reach the train. One way or another, though, I think it's worth a little more effort than a simple off-the-cuff dimissal.

Rob

Doubled My Pleasure

Talking Points Memo uncovers more Repug evil twinniness!

Rob

Double Trouble

Who cut the arm off the voodoo doll
That resembles a Republican president from long ago
I'd hate to see you leave
'Cause I have grown so grateful for the
Blame you save me from
—“My Evil Twin,” They Might Be Giants

A new wrinkle in the Case of the Shoplifting Presidential Advisor. It’s a ridiculous notion, and very, very unlikely, but I have to admit that I’m crossing my fingers that this is true. I honestly would rather have this kind of weirdness in the world than yet another black eye for the Bush regime. In a world with evil twins, can the chupacabra be far behind?

Rob

Balls-out

I've been listeing to Penn Jillette's show on FreeFM a lot lately, and one of the recurring topics has been a juggling routine by Chris Bliss. For his finale, Bliss juggles three balls for the entirety of The Beatles' "The End" off of Abbey Road. To non-jugglers, it looks pretty impressive, and sometimes seems like it's timed with the music.

Penn felt differently, and asked his friend, hard-core professional juggler Jason Garfield, to replicate Bliss's routine with five balls. And man, is it better. Not only is Garfield keeping more balls in the air, but he looks like he has more control over his five than Bliss has over his three.

You can see both videos at YouTube. I recommend watching Bliss's routine first, because I can't imagine it'll be much fun after you see him get completely schooled by Garfield (in Bliss Diss). (I also recommend seeing them soon -- these are getting more attention, and I doubt either of them has the rights to the music, so they could be pulled at any time. You can also read Garfield's comments on the Bliss routine here.

I love that I can listen to people talk about juggling on the radio.

Rob

M for Moore

There's an feature on Alan Moore about his stormy relationship with DC Comics and Warner Bros. at the New York Times. Read it quick, before it falls behind the NYT's Iron Curtain of Time.

"I am what Harry Potter grew up into," he said, "and it's not a pretty sight."

Rob

Yee-hah!

It's Carnival time again, and Jersey Goddess is making sure you're tall enough to get into the Moon Bounce. Boing!

ROb

Now Even Bigger Love!

I updated my post on Big Love since it's been linked to (full disclosure: I did it myself) in the comments of this Political Animal post by Roxanne Cooper.

You can read my extra, giant-sized comments on Big Love here.

(I walked in a little late, so I don't know if they're using either Fleetwood Mac's "Big Love" (bad) or Little Village's "Big Love" (good) as the theme song. Drat!)

Rob

Good Riddance.

Slobodan Milosevic, dead of natural causes in prison.

Rob

VIBU!

That's my new acronym for Very Important Blogroll Update. Learn this timesaver and use it -- it could come in handy at this site as often as twice a year.

But, I wanted to direct your attention to a few new blogs to your right (or my left, since I'm sitting in your monitor watching you right now... yes, even you).

The first is VeeganMD's Journal. He's a good buddy who's moved away and we don't see him nearly enough anymore. Expect him to talk about his veeganism, being a doctor, and Dungeons and Dragons. I just hope that he finds a way to make it possible to link to specific posts on his site. (And see? Some of my best friends are Swedish!)

(If you don't get that joke, you don't really need to.)

I divided up the Other Blogs section into Political Blogs and Comics Blogs. New to the political end are The Bull Moose (an ex-republican who I don't always agree with, but always find worth reading) and BAG News Notes, which examines the subtext of political photography. I don't go there all the time, but every time I do, I'm fascinated.

Comics-wise, we've got The Beat (a great news & opinion source, and the place I look for any NYC-centered comics events), The Savage Critic (for pull-no-punches comics reviews) and Dave's Long Box (a very funny site in which Dave looks back at old comics in his collection, making up a word or two on the way. Get over there or I'll go all Airwolf on your ass!). There's other goodies too, but I'm tired of making with the descriptions. See for yourself.

This concludes today's VIBU.

Rob

Like a Circus, but With More Clowns

You can't make this stuff up.

A former Bush regime official, Claude A. Allen, was arrested for pulling the same scam pirate-fan-fave Peter Saarsgaarrrrd* pulls in the movie Garden State: Buying items from Target, then taking the receipts and going back into the store, pulling items off the shelf and "returning" them.

As Josh Marshall at Talking Points Memo puts it: "[Allen] resigned abruptly one month ago to spend more time with his family, thus, like David Safavian, providing the prescribed Bush administration interval between resignation and arrest."

Hah!

Rob

*Yes, it wasn't a very funny SNL sketch, but it was based on an inspired idea.

Success!

The Googlebombing of Bill Napoli instigated by the Smart Bitches worked. (It actually was working pretty much all of yesterday, but I kept meaning to mention it with a link, which is hard to do from work.)

Congrtulations, bitches!

Bill Napoli.

Bill Napoli.

Bill Motherfuckin' Napoli.

Rob

Classic Comics

I remember being bowled over by the scene in the comic V for Vendetta (can'twaitforthemoviecan'twaitcan'twait!) where V tells Evey that the signature bar from Beethoven's Fifth (roman numeral: V) Symphony (da-da-da-DUMMMMM) is also the morse code symbol for the letter V: (dot-dot-dot-DASH). It stuck with me ever since as one of those cool little details in life.

But there's a new connection between classical music and comics. I read over at Eric Reynolds' Fantagraphics Blog that Deutsche Grammophon is releasing new "best-of" style CD compilations featuring cover art by indy comics artists such as Peter Bagge, Richard Sala and R. Sikoryak. As Eric links, so shall I: you can read more about 'em here, and buy them (for $6.99!) here.

Rob

Giving the conservatives their props

Okay, while looking for an image of James Carville to show Kathy, I found this HI-larious page from before November's election. Haven't read much of it yet, but the pictures are pure gold.

Hats off to you, conservative blogger Korlapundit. You struck comedy gold.

Rob

Everyone in India hates us

We just got a 58-pound box of beef jerky shipped to us at the magazine. Jim the Bastard will have details and photos later, and I’ll link to him when he does.

I just want to take this opportunity to express my deepest apologies to Aishwarya Rai, who both Roger Ebert and I agree is the most beautiful woman in the universe. From my nation to yours, Ash: our bad.

Rob

UPDATE: The Bastard came through with a post that says it all. Plus, the picture of Chicago Jerkface looks SO much like James Carville it's scary.

No Shit, Sherlock

Rick "Man on Lobbyist on Dog" Santorum is a liar. Is anyone surprised?

Rob

Googlebombing Napoli

Jeri explains. I hear and obey.

Bill Napoli. (Christ, what a shithead.)

Rob

The Busiest Man in the World

Not in a million years would I trade places with Bill Paxton's character in the new HBO series which premeires this Sunday, Big Love. Bill Henrickson owns a hardware store that's just branching out into a chain. Which is keeping him busy enough. But he's also got his wife Barbara to think about (Jean Tripplehorn). And his wife Nicolette (Chloe Sevigny). And his wife Margene (Ginnifer Goodwin). Plus all their kids. And his parents. And a ton of in-laws.

The way the series is set up, it looks like Bill and his immediate family (a phrase that takes on a different meaning here) broke free of a religious commune, run by Nicolette's father, Roman (Harry Dean Stanton). The commune practices polygamy, and it looks like Bill & co. took that on the road. But in the outside world, they've got to keep it secret.

I got to see a preview of the series tonight (with my friend Steph) and it looks like it'll be a helluva show. I won't get to see it for a while, since I don't have HBO, but I'll consider renting the DVDs. It's got nice tension -- familial, marital, and just a hint of legal (which will surely grow as the series progresses). It'll be interesting to see more of the wives' relationships with each other, and of Bill's private relationship with each wife. One of Jean Tripplehorn's lines -- "are you going to wear pajamas to bed all the time, or just on my nights?" illustrates what a crazy tightrope he'll be walking throughout the show.

Oh well. He made his beds.

Rob

UPDATE: (Just to add a little meat to this post, since it seems to be getting some attention.) Based on the premiere, Big Love is a good show – it looks like a well-realized drama about the troubles of a polygamous family. And while it’s bound to delve into some disturbing territory (Roman’s teenage bride being the example placed front-and-center in the premiere), it’s not a documentary. It’s a TV show presented as entertainment. Which probably means that some aspects of polygamy will be glossed over, or not shown in the most disturbing light possible. And other aspects of the show will be unrealistic, in order to make the premise work and be relatable to a general audience.

This isn’t a bad thing. Someone can make (and doubtless has made) documentaries about the true state of polygamy. I’d be interested in seeing one. But I can say for certain that it will never get the kind of audience a show like Big Love gets. But while Big Love may pull some punches, it will almost certainly be disturbing enough to bring polygamy onto the radar of people who never gave it a second thought. And it may even drive a percentage of viewers to seek out more information about the issue. Is it really fair to ask for more from a cable drama series?

Crime and Punishment

Atrios posts an interesting exchange from an old Hardball, in which Chris Matthews corners then-PA Senate candidate Pat Toomey (who was running to the right of Arlen Specter in the 2004 Repug primary) about his views on abortion. Specifically, he tried to get Toomey to say what the punishement should be for an abortion if it's banned. Read the whole weaselly exchange.

If abortion is murder (which most pro-lifers believe), then it would follow that the doctor should be charged with murder, and the woman for, at the very least, conspiracy to commit murder. Although I think if you hire a hitman -- essentially what she'd be doing under a ban based on the idea that fetuses are human beings -- you get charged with murder, the same as if you'd pulled the trigger.

Conservatives won't say that -- none but the far-fringe whackjobs, at least. It's the underpinning of what they believe, but it's so far out of line with what any sensible person can accept that any support for their argument would fall apart.

Rob

(Edited to place the conversation in its proper context.)

Moxie

While I'm certainly not a member of the Cult of the Cat, sometimes spunk just can't be denied. As Elvis homself once said, "Go, cat, go!"

Rob

Three Keyboards and a Wayback Machine

Last night Kathy & I headed out for pizza and a rock concert…at a high school, but a rock concert nonetheless. Spiraling was playing a benefit for the Metuchen High School music program and Feed the Children. Spiraling plays an aggressive synth-rock, with frontman Tom Brislin playing three keyboards, sometimes all in the same song (and despite having only two hands, seemingly all at once).

As impressed as I am with Brislin—and I have been ever since I first saw him play at one of Glenn Burtnik’s Xmas Xtravaganzas, years ago—tonight drummer Paul Wells grabbed my attention. Watching him pound away during “Transmitter,” I got a sense of how truly complex the rhythms are behind these songs.

The band played a few songs from their upcoming album during the set – “Victory Kiss” and “Choices” were two of the names I caught, plus lots of songs from their first two albums. We have Transmitter, and I recognized “Girl on Top (of the Piano),” “This is the Road,” Lightning Twice” and “The Connection,” from that album, as well as “Ah, Sugar,” “Texas is the Reason” and “A Face for Radio” from Challenging Stage, which I really oughta pick up one of these days.

But then their encore came. And it only took a moment to recognize it: A-Ha’s “Take On Me.” And there we are, sitting in the auditorium, watching a bunch of high school kids dance to this song, that I have a hard time believing they even know. But I catch sight of a couple of girls singing along, and the same thought flashes through my head that I later find out flashed through Kathy’s: We were that age when this song first came out.

Thanks, Sherman – I didn’t realize the Wayback could go to 1984.

Rob

Curse you, Snowmiser!

I've shaved my head. That means it should be Spring! Spring, I say! I'm like a groundhog, only shinier. Don't mess with me, frostypants.

Rob

Dreamlinkblogging.

Up until now, I never really dreamt about work. Even more shocking, Jim the Bastard is blogging my dreams. Eerie.

Rob