For Your Edification

A picture of the noble Gin and Tonic, where it belongs:

On a pedestal.

Rob

Credits Due

I've got a great song in my head -- Warren Zevon's "Even a Dog Can Shake Hands" -- and it happens to be the perfectly suited theme song to the short-lived Jay Mohr Hollywood sitcom, Action. Here's a snatch of it, a twisted look at the art of the Deal:

All the worms and the gnomes are having lunch at Le Dome
They're all living off the fat of the land
Everbody's trying to be a friend of mine
Even a dog can shake hands

It sets exactly the right tone for the show, and there's nothing that I'd rather hum right now.

So what are your favorite TV theme songs? Lyrics and/or instrumental; I'm not picky.

Rob

Sports? Me?

I'm not really sure how I got started watching the World Cup -- okay, that's not true, I started watching the Angola/Portugal match, because whenever a team faces their colonial oppressors on an international stage for the first time, it sounds like good TV. But I don't know why I've kept watching, me being not a sports person at all.

But this Australia/Italy game that I just watched (thanx Tivo!)... whoa. The Italians lost a man about halfway through due to a red card (which I take to be a really bad foul), although the announcers seemed to think it wasn't merited. Essentially, they had an 11-10 power play for 50 minutes of the game. And yet they never really pressed the advantage. While they seemed to have control most of the time, they weren't ferociously attacking. Which is a shame, because I was rooting for them.

And then, at the absolute last moment, an Italian player trips over an Aussie, causing a foul. Looking at the replays, it looks more like he steped over him and then decided to fall, to be honest. One slo-mo shot even showed him with what I'd call an excited smile as he dropped. But the refs call the foul, and Italy gets a penalty kick. Which, since things are tied 0-0, could decide the game.

And it does. Goes right in. So one guy's brainstorm to take a dive when the opportunity presents itself gets Italy into the final 8.

As much as I wanted Australia to win, my inner con man says that's pretty cool.

Rob

Revoke My Cinephile License

I caught Jean-Pierre Melville's Army of Shadows the other day, and I'm ashamed to say I didn't do right by it. I was a bit drowsy, and wasn't in the right state of consciousness to really appreciate a foreign film. (Sometimes I close my eyes and just listen, momentarily forgetting that a movie has subtitles; this doesn't work well for the film as a whole.)*

It was interesting, and at times very tense. But I'm certain I would have enjoyed it much, much more had I not drifted off in a couple of the early scenes. Reading this Roger Ebert review makes me want to watch it all over again, to make better sense of it all. If you miss a little of the intricacies of this thriller of small details, you miss a lot.

Rob

* I wouldn't have fared much better at my other option, the 1924 silent film Pandora's Box.

Meet the Meerkats

So, I posted that last piece just to reinforce the idea that I am a man, because this next one might shake that foundation a bit.

Kathy & I have gotten wrapped up in a little show on Animal Planet called Meerkat Manor. It follows the lives of the Whiskers family of meerkats in the Kalahari Desert. Narrated by Sean Astin (although the website says Bill Nighy), it’s practically a soap opera, with births, deaths, wars with rival families, and life and death struggles. And yes, I’m a big ol’ baby just for liking it, but I do.

What first caught my eye were the names of some of the meerkats. The dominant female’s mate is named Zaphod; his brother (and her former lover) is named Youssarian (who is royally pissing me off right now). As Kathy pointed out: “They’re part of a scientific study. Of course they were named by geeks.” There’s also Shakespeare and Mozart and Flower and others.

It’s a fun show, first airing Fridays at 8. I was hooked within three minutes. And I'm only a little ashamed of that.

Rob

Blue All Over, or Littleblackdress?

Had a good drink-up with Jim the Bastard & his brother Mofo last night at Doc Holliday’s on 9th & A. I was drinking Doc’s Amber Ale, which I liked quite a bit, but JtB said had an afterflavor of cat hair. So he wound up buying more expensive stuff.

We also got to see a little parade of draq queens & other assorted folks, including a jolly fellow who was blue from head to toe. I got in front of him and said, “You’re completely blue. Mind if I take your picture?” and he told me he’d love it and began bouncing around. Hence the blur.
Nothing against the place or the company, but the personal high point of the night was after I got off the train on my way home. It was 1:30 in the morning or so, and we weren’t the only partiers out late. A couple of girls, early 20s maybe, got off the train in front of me. One was wearing her littleblackdress, with a slit in the center of the back. And well, the thing just kept on creeping up.

She was aware of the creeping, because on several occasions her hand traveled back and pulled her skirt down a bit, but I don’t think she was quite clear on how much it was creeping. And it kept creeping. (And why not? There was no underwear friction to slow it down!) In the short walk to the parking lot, I think I saw about half of her butt.

Which half? The middle half.

Rob

(And no, I have no cameraphone pictures of her.)

Graham Parker Mad Libs!

One more reason why I love Graham Parker:

On his My Country album, he covers the Grateful Dead's "Sugaree" with a bit of a country twang. But he changes the original opening lines just a hair, from

When the come to take you down
When they bring that wagon round

to

When the come to take you down
When they bring that raygun round

It's an off-the-wall homophone that makes his version a little more special to me, setting it in an entirely different place by changing just one word.

Shake it...

Rob

Mad Libs Revealed!

I thought about asking you all to guess the text we were Mad Libbing, but Sharon let me know that I was insanre to think anyone was trying to suss that out. So without further ado:

HAMLET: To plagiarize, or not to plagiarize--that is the squid:
Whether 'tis skankier in the mind to suffer
The slings and bastards of saucy fortune
Or to take BRAINS! against a sea of Packers
And by opposing end them. To die, to grind--
No more--and by a grind to say we end
The TUSK!, and the thousand natural jugs
That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a spork
Wryly to be wished. To die, to grind--
To grind--perchance to parrot: ay, there's the goblin,
For in that grind of death what parrots may come
When we have spewed off this slimy coil,
Must give us SAP. There's the respect
That makes billy club of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and squelchers of time,
Th' Austrian Gold Medal Winner's wrong, the proud man's cheese danish
The pangs of crispy love, the law's bush,
The tragedy of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a swollen bodkin? Who would hamdingers bear,
To grunt and debride under a voracious valium,
But that the noun of something after instructions,
The undiscovered spit bucket, from whose bourn
No traveller smurfs, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than rumple to others that we know not of?
Thus compulsiveness does make body shots of us all,
And thus the native hue of jagermeister
Is sicklied into with the pale cast of thought,
And the Heart of Gold of great pitch and moment
With this regard their skin tags turn awry
And lose the name of preposition. -- Soft you now,
The fair Mother! -- Nymph, in thy boudoir
Be all my lemmings remembered.

Thanks for playing, everyone!

Rob

She’s No Lady…

Mad Libs: The Final Votes

To wrap this up, I figure I’ll do this as a separate post (although I’ll include the any votes logged under the original post, too). So, without further ado, here are your choices:

Round 42: Choose from MOTHER, LUCINDA and FEMALÉ.
Round 43: Pick your fave from among MURDER, LAVATORIES and BOUDOIR
Round 44: Enjoy the dulcet tones of MAXIPADS, LUCITE LAMPS or LEMMINGS.

Voting will be open until Wednesday morning. I’ll tally it all and post the altered text then!

Rob

UPDATE: Voting is closed. MOTHER, BOUDOIR and LEMMINGS are the final winners!

Get Your Paws Off My PBJ, You Damn Dirty Ape!

On his blog, Mark Evanier's reminiscing about lunchbox culture at his elementary school. It got me to thinking about my own favorite lunchbox as a kid. And lucky me, I found an image of it, which I hereby share.

Gaze in awe and dread at the Lunchbox of the Planet of the Apes!



Rob

Mad Libs: The Final Rounds!

This is it: The moment before the moment before the moment you’ve all been waiting for. You’ve got all weekend to choose the last three words!

Round 42: FEMALE PROPER NOUN
Round 43: PLURAL NOUN (a fancy word referring to common objects)
Round 44: PLURAL NOUN (just a plain ol’ plural noun, but it’s the last one, so get your ya-yas out)

Soon, all will be revealed!

Rob

P.S. Remember to vote in the previous round!

Mad Libs, the Penultimate Rounds!

Yeah, you heard me. Let’s get to it:

Round 40: PLURAL NOUN
Round 41: NOUN ending in –TION

We’re nearing the last big drop of the roller coaster, kiddies. Try not to barf.

Rob

UPDATE:Voting is now open for Rounds 40 and 41. For 40, your plural nouns are SKINTAGS and BALLS. For 41, your “-tion” choices are PREPOSITION and ERECTION.Make your voice heard!


UPDATE 2:SKIN TAGS and PREPOSITION takes it. Which begs the question: What the hell are skin tags?

Mad Libs, Rounds 38 & 39

I'll be away from the computer until Wednesday afternoon, so this one will have to hold you till at least then:

Round 38: PREPOSITION
Round 39: NAME OF A SPACESHIP

Enjoy!

Rob

UPDATE: Voting is open, my lovelies. Your prepositions: THROUGH, INTO, BEYOND and UPON. As for the Spaceship, choose from the HEART OF GOLD, the ZNUTAR and the H.M.S. BLUMPKIN (since the Cleveland Steamer sounds more like it should be cruising through Lake Erie).

UPDATE 2: Our winners are INTO and HEART OF GOLD. Onward!

The DC List Returns!

Maybe I look like a spider man
But just say the word and I'll learn to fly

Like Ralph Dibny, the list streches on and on. You didn’t think I’d forget about them, didja? I mean, it’s a list, for chrissakes. A list. Let's think about what that means and hop on down to 31.

31. The Question:The star of one of the most remarkable books of the eighties, Vic Sage (aka Charles Victor Szasz, aka No-face guy—no one ever called him the Question in the book, although he tended to respond to “Who the hell are you?” with “Good question”) was motivated more by curiosity than justice – a very odd motivation for a super hero. It was a curiosity directed both outward and inward. In a demonstration of how cerebral the book could be, there was a two-issue story where Vic was buried up to his neck, motionless.
32. Deadshot: The best marksman in the world, and an assassin for hire. Yet for some reason, he never hits Batman. But those are just the rules of comics, right? Wrong. When Batman tells him to his face, “You’ve been pulling your shots around me,” it opened up a new avenue of character: Why would the world’s best marksman subconsciously keep himself from killing Batman?
33. Bat Lash: Essentially Maverick to Jonah Hex’s Man With No Name. A fun-lovin’ sweet-talkin’, card-cheatin’ cowboy, and a breath of fresh air in the midst of the grittier tales of the Old West.
34. Detective Chimp: A talking chimp who solves crimes in a deerstalker cap. Or at least, that’s what he did in the 50s. After a 50-year bender (and what’s funnier than a drunk monkey?) this ball-busting primate has taken up leadership of a bunch of DC’s “magic” heroes in the lacklusterly-named “Shadowpact.” (Lacklusterly? Ah, whatever. This is late enough as it is.)
35. Dian Belmont: As Greg predicted, Wes “Sandman” Dodds’s better half is here. The daughter of a D.A. in 1930s New York, Dian completes one of the best love stories in comics. Slowly evolving from a somewhat spoiled party girl with a good head on her shoulders to a concerned citizen of the world, she pushes Wes through as many changes as he inspires in her. What’s even sweeter is that, years later, when Jack Knight finally meets them, it’s Dian he’s awed by. She is, after all, one of his favorite writers.
36. Johnny Thunder: He’s always played for laughs, and appropriately so. I’ve always thought that a teenager (well, he was created in the 40s, before teenagers had any cultural identity of their own) with a Badhnesian Hex-bolt (read: genie) that would do his bidding was a great, kid-friendly idea. The fact that he didn’t know the Thunderbolt’s activation words for so long was the icing on the cake.
37. Braniac 5: Surprisingly, the only member of the Legion of Super-Heroes on my list, and I’ve never even really considered him a favorite. But as the arrogant scientist, he’s got a personality strong enough to take him consistently through the group’s many iterations. The idea that he’s the descendant (sort of) of one of the 21st centuries’ greatest villains is another plus.
38. Cyborg: One of a long tradition of superheroes “turned into a monster,” spearheaded, of course, by Marvel’s the Thing (and followed by DC’s Robotman). But what Cliff Stone, turned into a half-robot as the result of an accident in his father’s lab, was able to do that most similar heroes haven’t? He got over himself. It started in New Teen Titans #8, when he is confronted by a group of kids playing baseball in a park, who, like him, all have prosthetic limbs. Except they can’t turn their arms into sonic cannons. Eventually – and it was a long, slow process – he came to terms with his condition. And the happy-go-lucky cartoon version is always a joy to watch. Boo-YAH!
39. Crazy Jane: A multiple personality superhero, with a different power for each personality. Not the most reliable person to have on your team, but one of the most entertaining.
40. Enemy Ace: How DC ever had the chutzpah to make a recurring antihero out of a German World War I flying ace (the second most famous WWI airman in comics, and the first is a dog!), I’ll never know. But there’s something about Baron Hans von Hammer’s melancholy and skill that are compelling. The Hammer of Hell does three things well: fly, shoot, and brood.

More soon!

Rob

Mad Libs, Rounds 36 & 37

Hella busy today. Let's get right to it.

Round 36: PLURAL NOUN
ROUND 37: NOUN

What more need be said?

Rob

UPDATE: Voting is open. Round 36’s candidates are ANTIOXIDANTS and BODY SHOTS; Round 37’s are JAGERMEISTER and ANALGESIC.

UPDATE 2:Victory for Drunken Combo (aren't they Jet Li and Jackie Chan?)! BODY SHOTS of JAGERMEISTER for everyone!

Mad Libs, Rounds 34 & 35

We really are entering the final stretch.

Round 34: VERB
Round 35: PERSONALITY TRAIT (a noun, such as GIDDINESS)

Make those nominations!

Rob

UPDATE: Time to vote! For the verb in Round 34, it's RUMPLE or BLUDGEON. For the noun in Round 35, it's GULLIBILITY and COMPULSIVENESS (I changed it a bit to make it work within the text, JtB).

UPDATE 2: RUMPLE and COMPULSIVENESS win the day!

Full O' Whiz

Sploid has an article up about the owner of Geno's Steaks in Philadelphia, and his policy of refusing service to anyone who doesn't speak English. The story makes it seem like the signs are fairly recent, but they've been around for about a year, at least.

Put simply: I'm a Pat's guy. Always have been. I expect I always will be. But I know some people prefer the neon scream of Geno's across the street, so one day last summer I decided I couldn'tr know for sure until I tried a Geno's steak at least once. Kathy and I wandered past Pat's (my cheeze-whiz-clogged heart breaking just a bit with each step) and went to stand in line at Geno's. It would be a new experience, I told myself. And hey, it's a Philly cheesesteak, so it can't be that bad.

So we took our place in line, and I saw the sign: "This is America. When Ordering, Speak English." And frankly, I lost my appetite.

Kathy and I left without ordering, and luckily our appetites returned once we neared the greasy gravitational field of Pat's.

Now, the owner of Geno's (Joseph Vento) can run his business however he wants. But he's not going to get any money from me until I can order in Spanish.

"Querría un filete queso con cebollas fritas, por favor." Until that gets me a cheesesteak and a gracias, Make Mine Pat's.

Rob

Ow!

Just in case you missed these comments by Jon Stewart: Freakin' Ow!

Rob

Mad Libs, Round 32 & 33

What I need:

Round 32: Yet another NOUN.
Round 33: A VERB signifying a recurring action (for a singular subject). (Basically, this a present tense verb ending in S. In the time-honored tradition of the Smurfs, I provide this example: “He SMURFS so much I had to smurf a window just to get the smurfing smell out of the cushions.” (The capitalized “smurfs” is the word to watch.)

Rob

UPDATE: Just one nomination for these round, so no voiting. SPIT BUCKET's our noun; SMURFS is our verb.

Every tool is a weapon...

Yikes.

I just read about the lead story of Flash #144 an old Flash lettercol, and a quick check of the Grand Comic Book Database reveals that yes, its rather shocking title did appear on the cover:


"Menace of the Man-Missle." Yow.

Rob

Mad Libs, Rounds 30 & 31

Noun, noun, get a noun, I need a noun (yeaaaah!)
Get a noun, noun noun, I need a noun
I need a NOUN…
on the town…
I’ll be your lifelong friend…
A mariachi band…

(Seriously, I’ve never had any idea what those last two falsetto lines are.)

And more important: Round 30 and Round 31 each call for a NOUN.

Rob

UPDATE:Another either/or pick. Round 30 choices are NOUN and SUNDIAL. Round 31 choicesare INSTRUCTIONS and SLAVE NAME. Vote, me hearties! Cast yer ballots to thefour winds of th'Internet!

UPDATE 2:One vote tips the scales for NOUN and INSTRUCTIONS.

Switched Counters

A little housekeeping... I switched counters over to Sitetracker because.. well, because I forgot my blogpatrol password. And when they send you a new one, they send it to you as an email.

But they never sent the email. So when I got into work and found my actual password, it wouldn't work. Their program had already changed it. But time after time, I tried to get an email from them, to no avail. I wrote to their admin and it bounced.

So fuck 'em. Sitetracker's in the corner now...until they piss me off and feel my wrath.

Count's the same, though.

Rob

Flour Power: A New Orleans Moment

It’s late at night, early May. Jay and I are walking back on Decatur after a night in the bars of Frenchmen Street (where we caught what were supposed to be the last few minutes of Christian Scott’s jazz combo, which kept on getting extended as more and more musicians—including Jason Marsalis and Terrence Blanchard—wound up sitting in. A guy leaned over to Jay and said, “We sure got our five dollars’ worth!” Which would be an awesome deal, but ours was even better; we came in so late they just waved us in without a cover).

Anyway. So, on Decatur. Jay and I, walking a little drunkenly. There’s a guy on the sidewalk, on his hands and knees, kinda sprawled actually. He’s looking like his mental state has been significantly altered from how he’s accustomed to it – his brain cells aren’t marching in line anymore. A girl is down on the sidewalk with him, pressing her palm gently against his chest, almost to reassure him that she is real and she is there.

And did I mention? He’s covered head to toe in baking flour.

He’s got two friends (friends?) sitting in a doorway, announcing like carnival barkers: “Amazing! Astounding! Come one, come all! See the man covered in flour! An actual human being, my friends, completely engulfed in flour! Only two dollars to see this amazing sight!”

Needless to say, we kept our money to ourselves. But we couldn’t help talking about this guy for the rest of the way home. I figured all we had to do was dip him in an egg wash and then some spicy bread crumbs and then we could pan-fry him. Jay was more philosophical about the whole thing:

“You’ve gotta think – at one point, he had a plan for all that flour. And if it had worked, it mighta been awesome. All his friends were behind him, they were probably all for it. But then something went horribly, horribly wrong. And they turned on him.”

“One minute you’re the man of the hour, then next minute you’re the man covered in flour.”

Truer words were never spoken.

Rob

Mad Libs, Rounds 28 & 29

For Round 28, I need an ADJECTIVE.

For Round 29, a NOUN's what the doctor ordered.

Rob

UPDATE: Voting is open. Your choices for Round 28’s adjective are VORACIOUS and DOPE. Round 29’s noun will be either VALIUM or JERK. Get those ballots in!


UPDATE 2: VORACIOUS and VALIUM take it.

Another Chunk o' DC Goodness

"I--I wish you could swim...Like the dolphins, like dolphins can swim
Though nothing will keep us together
We can beat them for ever and ever
Oh we can be heroes just for one day"

21. Aquaman: Yeah, he’s usually the butt of jokes. But he’s the king of an undersea kingdom, and that’s gotta count for something. And he swims... like dolphins can swim.
22. Starman (Jack Knight):A reluctant “legacy” hero, the youngest son of the Golden Age Starman. Jack’s brother was killed trying to follow in his father’s footsteps – and despite his best efforts, Jack managed to uphold the tradition, too.
23. John Constantine: A combination of Faust and Tom Regan from Miller’s Crossing. Plus he smokes like a chimney, drinks like a fish and looks like a rock star.
24. The Red Tornado (Ma Hunkle): One of my absolute favorites. Ma Hunkle didn’t want her kids getting into trouble in the rough neighborhood they lived in – so she pulled on some longjohns, threw a saucepan over her head and foiled mischief as the Red Tornado. Mother of the Year.
25. Gorilla Grodd: A psychic gorilla. He has two ways to pop your skull like a grape. Because he has amazing mental powers. And he’s a gorilla.
26. Ra’s al Ghul: Because he got all Woodward and Bernstein on Batman – instead of trying to unmask him, he simply followed the money, figuring out who in Gotham City could afford a Batmobile. Nothing he’s done since has ever compared to that one moment.
27. The Spectre: God’s Old Testament vengeance given form. And on his coffee break, he’s the ghost of a hardnosed cop. Ostrander and Mandrake performed an amazing feat in their 1990s series, saddling him with enough ethical and philosophical dilemmas to make someone so powerful a plausible protagonist. Plus, I love when people look in his face and they see skulls where his eyes should be. That shook me to my core as a little kid, and I still love it today.
28. Mr. Mxyzptlk: Superman can do pretty much anything. So to pit him against a foe who can do anything is a great idea – particularly since it forces Superman to resort to trickery rather than overwhelming force. And getting him to say his nearly unspellable name backward? Genius.
29. Hitman (Tommy Monaghan): Okay, so he kills people for money. He and his pal Nat the Hat still had one of the best friendships in comics. And he cheered Superman up once, so he can’t be all bad.
30. Alfred: The Man behind the Bat – and one of the few people willing to call Batman to the carpet for a bad decision. Scipio at The Absorbascon has a good post on Alfred; I think he’s 100 percent right.

Rob

Mad Libs Round 27

Today's the day when I need a VERB. Which I already have, in DEBRIDE (whom, I might add, I knew when she used to rock and roll).

Rounds 28 and 29 will start tomorrow.

Rob

Mad Libs Glitch

Blogging is hard!

Some idiot (read: me) clicked on "Save as Draft" rather than "Publish" when he updated Rounds 23 & 24. Which probably explains why it didn't get any votes yesterday. So I've fixed it, and will be holding these rounds and Rounds 25 & 26 open for another day. My bad.

Rob

Mad Libs Rounds 25 & 26

Here's the preciouses I needs:

Round 25: ADJECTIVE
Round 26: FUNNY-SOUNDING PLURAL NOUN

Gollum! Gollum!

Rob

UPDATE: Voting is now open. Round 25: HYSTERICAL, SWOLLEN, ROASTED and RAUCOUS. Round 26: SQUABS, GOITERS, GUPPIES and HAMDINGERS. Voting is still open for Round 23, below, as well, until we have a winner there. (Which we now do, so don't worry your pointy little head about it.)


UPDATE 2: Voting is closed; SWOLLEN and HAMDINGERS enter the winner's circle.

Mad Libs Reminder

Rounds 23 & 24 are going great guns, but there's still time to vote in Rounds 21 & 22. So far, no one has.

And happy Memorial Day.

Rob

(Okay. All done.)

More Top DCU Characters

My buddies and me are getting’ real well known
Yeah the bad guys know us and they leave us alone...

More from the top 50 DC characters:
11.Lois Lane: Once she got over trying to prove Superman was really Clark Kent, she started being portrayed as the best investigative reporter out there. A writer that knows his stuff can do wonders with her.
12. Jonah Hex: The Man With No Name has a name, and it’s Jonah Hex. This scarred Confederate vet travels the old west, righting wrongs with brutal justice.
13. Sgt. Rock: The tough-as-nails, “never say die” everyman. Not that he has a problem with playing dead until he can toss a grenade your way, Shultzie!
14. Adam Strange: An archaeologist on Earth, but the teleporting Zeta beam sends him to Rann, where he’s that planet’s greatest champion. He’s got a jet-pack and a ray gun, but he always solves his problems with his fin-topped head.
15. Swamp Thing: A miserable guy covered in mud? No! A miserable plant that thinks he’s a guy covered in mud! Alan Moore’s reimagining of Swamp Thing changed the character forever – and that’s a good thing.
16. Flash (Wally West): A sidekick who graduated to the big leagues (moreso than any other hero, including Robin/Nightwing). What’s more, the transition wasn’t the smoothest – without Barry around, Wally had a very shaky moral compass for a while, and only gradually became the down-to-earth hero he is today. I don’t think that road was planned in any but the vaguest terms, but it provided us with more character nuance than the classic good guys usually get.
17. Sandman (Wes Dodds): First of all, I’m kicking myself that I didn’t include Neil Gaiman’s Morpheus on this list. Under the rules, he could have fit, but I was considering him off in his own little universe. But enough about ol’ gloomy. Wes Dodds is the anti-Bruce Wayne. Sure, he’s a single millionaire, but he handles himself completely differently. Awkward and aloof where Wayne is sociable and glad-handing, Dodds is the sort of thoughtful man who provides us with an excellent window to pre-WW2 America. The fact that his nightmares compel him to fight crime in a business suit and a gas mask is a bonus. Sandman Mystery Theatre remains one of comics’ unsung gems.
18. Oracle: The former Batgirl, after being crippled by the Joker, turns to her information-gathering skills to fight crime by proxy, first being an informant for the Suicide Squad, then for Batman and the JLA, and finally by gathering her own team of heroes for special missions in Birds of Prey. She’s awesome, and should never walk again.
19. The Shade: Seemingly immortal, he’s lived for centuries, and is a criminal everywhere but the city he loves, which he’d lay down his life for (if he could). A golden-age character made shiny and new. Well, maybe not shiny.
20. Amanda Waller: The Sgt. Rock of covert ops. She’s never in the field, but more often than not, she’s three steps ahead of whoever she’s facing. And when she’s caught off guard, she’s more than willing to toss everything up in the air, confident that she’ll wind up on top. (And voicework from the amazing CCH Pounder on the Justice League cartoon never hurts.)

Rob

Mad Libs, Rounds 23 & 24

Half day today, and I didn’t come in yesterday, so I’m just gonna power through the Mad Libs posts. This weekend’s rounds are:

Round 23: LAST NAME OF DISGRACED POLITICIAN
Round 24: NOUN

Go!

Rob

UPDATE: Whole lotta choices today. For Round 23: CLINTON, HART, CONDIT, NIXON, BUSH and DELAY. For Round 24: MOTORCYCLE, LOBSTER, HAIRPIECE, PROBOSCIS, TRAGEDY, BLOG and DELAY. Vote your conscience, everyone.


UPDATE 2: TRAGEDY takes Round 24, but Round 23 will remain open until we have a winner. Sudden Death, people!

UPDATE 3: BUSH puts an end to sudden death! When's the last time that happened? I'm shocked and awed.

Mad Libs Update

I'm keeping the most recent Mad Libs open for another day, since I'm stuck at home on a personal day (a sincere thank you to New Jersey Transit for letting me recover from last night's drinking in style), and the list of words in at work.

Rob

No Jokin'?

Think Progress has a story that's too rich for words. Apparently Delay's legal team has sent out mailers citing Steven Colbert's interview with Robert Greenwald, the political documentarian who made The Big Buy: Tom DeLay's Stolen Congress. Plus, defenddelay.com has the entire Colbert/Greenwald interview on its site. (I'm not linking to it, but you can follow through from the Think Progress story.) They just don't get that Colbert is making fun of them. They think he's a real conservative.

I'm sure this won't be up for long, so check it out while you can. Just the idea of it makes me feel all sunny inside.

(I can't help wondering if it's a hack to make him look ridiculous, but I have a hard time imagining a hacker being so subtle.)

Rob

Mad Libs, Round 21 and 22

And with this, we officially reach the halfway point! Oh, how my grandfather, who started this game on his abacus, would be proud.

Round 21: NOUN
Round 22: ADJECTIVE

And remember, Sudden Death voting is still open for round 16 – will it be SLIMY, HERETICAL or OBTUSE? You decide! Or not. SLIMY enters the Winner's Circle.

Rob

UPDATE: Voting is now open. Round 21’s candidates are: CHEESE DANISH, CURIOSITY, FEAT and HAIRBALL. Round 22 brings us CRISPY, SPECKLED, LITTLE and OVERREACHING. A veritable bounty of words!


UPDATE 2: Voting is closed. CHEESE DANISH and CRISPY take it.

Everybody! Everybody!

I want to direct your attention to what may be the Best Podcast Ever. It's certainly the coolest thing I've ever heard broadcast on radio. I've been listening to the Penn Jillette show fairly regularly since it began airing on FreeFM, although I only get it via podcast. And the one I heard today was kinda special.

See, Penn's wife is in the hospital during the show, ready to have their second child, Zolten. And although Penn has been assured that there's pleny of time for him to do the show, things don't quite work out that way.

Go to the Featured Audio section of the show's website to hear it for yourself: It's labeled Penn Flees The Studio For The Birth Of His Son, and it may only be available for a short time. The whole show's cool; it always is. But if you're in a hurry, start listening at around 26 minutes. That'll give you a minute or so to hear what the show is like before everthing gets nutty.

I'm also posting a link to download the show directly, but that may or may not work. And, of course, if asked, I'll drop this direct link. (I don't know what the laws are on direct links like this, but nettiquette, I think, frowns on it.)

Enjoy the show, and Happy Birthday, Zolten!

Rob

Top 50, Part One

Tom at The Great Curve has asked for help in assembling a list of the Top 50 DC Comics characters, and I’ve been thinking about it for the last few days. I just sent him my list, and figure I’d publish it, with some comments, here. So here are the Top Ten:

1. Superman: The original. No one would be asking this question without him. Moses from space. Both powerful and wise, the world would be much better with him in it.
2. Batman: A victim of crime, he’s devoted his life not to seeking justice for himself, but for others. Driven and selfless.
3. Wonder Woman: The premier female hero. A warrior for peace, she’s one of the toughest superheroes to wrap your head around. But when someone gets it, its always rewarding.
4. Robin (Dick Grayson): The first sidekick. Despite their difference in age, the original Batman/Robin relationship wasn’t Father/Son, but Best Friends. Even the world’s greatest detective needs someone he trusts completely.
5. Captain Marvel : The only character who can one-up the kid wish fulfillment of Robin. Instead of being the best friend of the coolest guy in the world, Billy Batson turns into the coolest guy in the world. All that, and Gomer Pyle gives him shout-outs.
6. Flash (Barry Allen): My personal favorite. He’s got just one power, superspeed, but every adventure showed an inventive new way it could be used. Superhero, forensic scientist, and all-around good guy.
7. Green Lantern (Hal Jordan): A cop in an intergalactic police force. A test pilot, born without fear, with a ring that can do whatever he imagines. The essence of coolness under pressure.
8. Joker: Batman’s insane counterpoint. Batman approaches from logic, where the Joker just wants to get to the funny. He’s just got an awful sense of humor.
9. Lex Luthor: The guy who’d probably be running the world if it weren’t for Superman. Genius, but with an envy streak a mile wide.
10. Green Arrow (Oliver Queen): Brash, outspoken, and always ready to take the little guy’s side.

Hey, it's the top ten. There's not all that much room for surprise, if you're gonna be honest about it. Quirkier choices await.

Rob

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