A Nameless Blog

It’s late June.  The sun beats down on us as it always does.  Our electric bills are soaring and our genitals are even sweatier than normal.  The only relief, of course, is a cool, refreshing blogpodge.

In case you don’t know of him already, allow me to introduce you to Cliff Johnson.  In 1987, he made a low-res puzzle game called The Fool’s Errand.  It’s pretty fantastic — all the puzzles are fair and enjoyable, and to top it off, it’s one of the first meta-puzzles of the technological age.  If you like puzzle games that make you say to yourself, “Holy shit, I’ve been at this for five hours”, download the game for free (follow the instructions — the game’s so old you’ll need a Mac emulator to run it).  But first, read these two Wired articles about the game’s legend (don’t worry, they’re brief).

If you poke around Cliff Johnson’s site, you’ll see that he made a couple other games in that era.  I played At the Carnival — don’t bother.  It’s too repetitive and easy.  But so far, 3 in Three is great.  It’s a ramped-up Fool’s Errand (at least in the sense that there’s actually color and sound).

I’ve said this before, but do you think that if I asked really nicely, Shakira would have sex with me?  She’s not at the top of my fantasy list of unattainable celebrities, and she doesn’t strike me as particularly slutty, but something about her makes that thought pop into my head.  Like she’d agree if I just told her, “Have sex with me.  I’ll say nice things about you to all my white friends…”

In the last week I’ve gotten a handful of new followers on Twitter.  The funny thing is, I’ve never twittered (tweeted?  Eh who cares…) to that account even once.  I got the account twitter.com/zazzumplop in case I ever decided to jump on the bandwagon.  You know, spread your unique domain name thin and all that.  Well, now that people are actually following me for some reason, I’ll start posting to Twitter.  Granted, the only posts will be along the lines of, “New post at my actual blog.  Read some full sentences for a change”, but at least it’s something.

Speaking of Twitter, let me be the umpteenth person to praise Conan’s new Twitter Tracker bit.  I don’t think I can describe it without wringing out all the funny, so just watch the first one on Hulu and enjoy (after sitting through a twenty-second ad).  You can also check out the new Twitter Tracker website, but please, only in small doses.  It’s only so many times you can read the likes of the following without liquefying your brain: “WHAT’S THIS?!? ROB THOMAS LIKES THE CITY OF CHICAGO?!??? EXCITEMENT!!! RT @ThisIsRobThomas I could see myself living in chicago.”

I just caught up with all the aired episodes of Dollhouse.  It’s an excellent show, but it’s been kinda weird for me.  I let myself fall months behind, episodes piling up on my TiVo, without much desire to watch them.  But every time I watched an episode I came away extremely entertained.  The next day, I’d see Dollhouse on the queue and think, “Eh, I’ll watch it later.”  I don’t understand it.  Most shows that I love I can’t wait to watch.  If I have to record Lost or House, I watch it the minute I get home.  I can give you a host of reasons that Dollhouse is an exciting, moving, funny, enjoyable show.  I like the regular characters, and I like that Eliza Dushku has no consistent personality (it helps hide that she’s normally the worst actress on the screen).  I also like the hot, empty-headed women in tiny clothing.  (If you haven’t seen the show, “empty-headed” is meant literally.)  So I highly recommend the show, even though it hasn’t reached Appointment TV status.

I’ve been meaning to post this awhile, but I think I neglected it.  It’s high-speed video of bats in motion (and a fascinating article).  The best part isn’t watching them fly or land upside-down, which is still cool; the best part is watching different bat species walk.  This is why nature is awesome.  And yes, Eddie Izzard, I’m using the word ‘awesome‘ properly, thank you.

To keep the parade of links going, read this British article about the King of Pop.  It’s written quite well, and it reminds me of something I dare not forget: Michael Jackson is probably the most talented person we’ll ever see.  If you’re angry about Heath Ledger’s death, it should pale in comparison to the anger you feel about what has happened to Michael Jackson.  He had so much talent, and none of us could handle it.

On that cheery note, I’ll bid you all adieu.  Well, not before I leave something on Twitter about how amazing this post is.

-Darrell

Driving through my neighborhood, I encountered five white doves walking around in a T intersection.  Resisting the urge to sing, “cinco palomas blancas”, I signaled to turn left.  I had to wait, however, for a van was coming from my left along the street I intended to join.  The van eventually turned right in front of me, but not before the driver slowed way down and took her sweet-ass time making the turn.  She was smiling, staring at the birds chillin’ in the intersection.  My first thought was, “I should run one of those birds over.  It would totally ruin her day.”  I decided not to because, hey, what did the bird ever do to me?  I was mighty tempted, though.

What is it that made me think that?  I’m fantastic, so there can’t be something wrong with me.  There must be a natural, human urge to fuck with people.  I’m sure you’ve had it: you see someone enjoying something so distasteful or inane that your biggest desire becomes to make that person unhappy.

Come on, admit it.  You read a headline that a meteor hit a house that was having an American Idol viewing party, killing five.  Tell me you don’t at least chuckle.  Or how about this: a 45-year-old, well-dressed bald man is eating ice cream on a park bench.  You want a bird to poop on his head, don’t you?  That’s just the part of you that likes to fuck things up.  It might be mostly passive (note that I had a bird pooping on his head rather than you yourself), but the urge is there.

Maybe it’s just a male thing.  I’m reminded of the PUSA song, “Poke and Destroy”.  Selected lyrics:

Boys, boys, boys, boys are set to kill
They wanna crush everything that they see
You could take ‘em to a creepy museum with dinosaur bones
Hangin’ from the ceilin’
They’d feel the uncontrollable urge
To tip and push and kick and rip and tear and smash and squish and

Poke and destroy
Poke and destroy
Poke and destroy
I’m a boy, I wanna poke and destroy

But I think women are just as likely to want to fuck things up.  Why do you think so many women gossip or go after married men or try to break up friendships?  Call them cunts all you like, but they can’t help it — they’re just human.  It’s too powerful a feeling to be able to ruin everything.

That was a cheery note about humanity.  I have only myself and everyone I ever knew to blame.

-Darrell

Ah, what a glorious day.  I’m twenty-five years old, the sun is shining, and I have fresh in my mind one of the worst movies ever made.  Last night, some friends and I watched an old VHS of a 1989 movie called Nukie.  If you aren’t familiar, you’re missing out on some hilarious cinematic incompetence. 

You see, it’s about a couple of aliens who live among the stars (played by slowly rotting foam-rubber puppets that look like a cross between E.T. and Karl Malden).  These aliens, Nukie and Miko, somehow crash land on Earth.  The only problem is that Miko crash landed at NASA (referred only as “Space Foundation” for some reason) where the selfish scientists held him and did horrible experiments on him.  Meanwhile, Nukie is in Africa where he encounters friendly twin boys, a bland nun, and at least five talking chimps.  The movie follows Nukie’s journey across Africa as he tries (and fails) to find America.  It’s even better than it sounds.

I won’t get into any further detail, as someone has already beaten me to it.  That review looks at things far too negatively, however, for Nukie is an utter joy to watch.  Yes, it’s stupid and horribly made.  Yes, as Adam says, it was clearly made by confused Germans.  But there’s something wonderful about watching such a horrendous piece of shit.

I have deliberately watched bad movies since high school, when I hosted a double feature of Plan 9 from Outer Space and Sinbad of the Seven Seas, starring Lou Ferrigno.  I have seen both of those monstrosities at least twice more since, each time exposing a new group of friends to true idiocy.  What’s amazing is that nearly all who have seen the suckitude of these films are glad they did.

I’m by no means a bad-movie connoisseur, but I’ve seen my share.  I’ve seen enough to know what separates a good bad movie from just a bad one.  Armageddon is a bad movie, but there’s nothing fun about watching it.  Videodrome is a horrible movie, but not for lack of skill — it’s just appalling, paranoid nonsense.  Those movies just suck.  The truly bad movies are the ones made with such love, care, and skill that it’s a wonder that nobody involved in shooting ever held up a hand and said, “Um, none of this makes sense.”  These are the movies that are so bad, you can’t bring yourself to hate them.  But let me be more specific.  I’ve noticed a few common traits among the best of the bad that I wouldn’t mind sharing.  Let’s get started.

BAD ACTING: I’ve mentioned wooden acting already, which is great.  I love it when a supposedly emotional line is recited like the actor is reading it for the first time.  What’s better, though, is overacting.  Watch for Jafar’s “HA!” in Sinbad of the Seven Seas and you’ll see what I mean.

PAINFULLY STUPID MESSAGES: Ed Wood was the master of preachy, overwrought bullshit.  Not only did we learn about the dangers of nuclear proliferation in Plan 9 (lesson: don’t let aliens raise the recently deceased in an effort to blow up the sun), but he was way ahead of his time in fighting for transvestites’ rights (lesson: don’t judge Ed Wood just because he likes pink angora sweaters.  He’s a man!  With FEELINGS!).  In fact, nearly every great bad movie has a sappy message to it.  Billy Jack says don’t mess with Native Americans; Southland Tales says that George W. Bush will turn us into a police state; and of course, Nukie taught us that poking needles into aliens was ethically reprehensible.  All life lessons that otherwise never would have been around to nauseate me.

CHEAP SETS: Another Ed Wood specialty — he famously used the same furniture in indoor and outdoor scenes for Plan 9.  A cheap set is funny for two reasons: first, it takes you out of the movie — in other words, it reminds you that you’re watching a movie.  Second, it tells you that the people making the movie lack the time, money, and concern to make a more believable movie.  So when the bad guy in the second Left Behind movie angrily slams his fists against his airplane’s wall, causing the ceiling lights to shake on their supports, all I can do is laugh.

BAD SPECIAL EFFECTS: This is a given.  From the string on Ed Wood’s UFO to Polonia brothers’ puppetry to the greenscreen laser staircase that shoots out of Gene Simmons’s eyes, it’s all marvelous.

HORRENDOUS WRITING: Writing a movie involves a lot of steps.  The screenwriter goes through countless rewrites; the director edits as he sees fit; the actors rehearse and add their own notes and intonations; the editor finally decides which takes and which lines are the best ones that make it to the final cut.  So how does a line like “Sinbad, who I hate more than hate itself” get all the way through that process?  Here’s one from The Room: “I got the results of the test back.  I definitely have breast cancer.”  The kicker to that one is that the female lead’s mother says that, appropos of nothing, then never mentions it again.

COMPLETE LACK OF LOGIC: Is there a reason Ace Frehley only squawks like a bonobo in Kiss Meets the Phantom of the Park (I mean, besides cocaine)?  How is it that Lou Ferrigno can tame a pit full of snakes, assure them that he won’t hurt them, then tie them together and use them as a rope to pull himself to freedom?  On a day when its alien captive is free and forcing its head researcher to dance like a clown, how is it that the narrator can say, “Space Foundation.  Nothing unusual to report.”?  How exactly does raising the recently deceased figure into exploding “everything that the sunlight touches”?  And why, god, why does Nukie have so much trouble finding America when he can turn himself into a ball of light and fly across the universe in seconds?

WHAT-WAS-THE-FUCKING-PURPOSE-OF-THAT MOMENTS: The best bad movies will make me yell, “What was the fucking purpose of that?!?” at least five times.  That’s why The Room might be the worst movie ever made.  In addition to the aforementioned breast-cancer line, we have a drug dealer that serves no purpose, the introduction of new characters in the third act who deliver one unnecessary line (eliciting the related, “Who the fuck is that?!?”), and the most awkward sex scene in history — TWICE.  I’m not kidding — we get to see the same sex scene again, purportedly happening the following night.  It says a lot about their sexual adventurousness when their fuckings are shot-for-shot replicas of each other.

I know I’m not the only one who feels this way.  I want your favorites.  I think I mentioned most of mine over the course of this post, but let me know if I’ve forgotten one.  Let’s liven up these comment threads.

-Darrell

I don’t have the gumption to write something as lengthy as the last post, so I’ll grant us all a break by posting a few links of note.  Enjoy these or else.

This might be the funniest one-theme picture blog I’ve seen.  It’s called “Look at this Fucking Hipster” and it pretty much speaks for itself.  I’d share a few of my favorite captions, but I don’t want to spoil the surprise.  Just make sure to hit Next until you reach the start (it won’t take you long).

If you’re a fan of the finest drama in television history, you’ll enjoy this interview Bill Moyers did with David Simon.  If you haven’t seen every season of The Wire, I implore you NOT to click that link.  Instead, go watch all five seasons of The Wire.  You aren’t allowed to continue being my friend until you have.  I’m serious.

An entire Neko Case concert available online at NPR.org?  Why thank you, public radio.  You can be exciting sometimes.

Puns fucking blow… and this guy backs me up.  Sort of.

For the baseball fans among us, this article is amusing all the way through.

It’s amusing webcomic time.  Here’s a silly Achewood, a nice XKCD, a Dinosaur Comics that makes me smile (bold text means Voice of God), and a mildly disturbing (and admittedly old) PBF.

And now, a downer: a rather heart-breaking account of the darker sides of autism.  Excellent writing, frightening story.

I’ll finish with a bit about a recent AV Club feature.  A reader asked the staff, “What artist gets a lifetime pass from you, regardless of what crap he/she does later on?”  The responses varied, from the predictable (Albert Brooks, Chevy Chase, Bob & David) to the questionable (Dave Matthews?  Really?).  I thought about my list and a few names sprung to mind.  First, I’m flummoxed that no one in the article mentioned Steve Martin.  I don’t care how many horrible Pink Panther remakes he farts out, he’s still a comic genius who revolutionized stand-up, made a dozen classic movies, and wrote at least two highly enjoyable books (and another that I’m told was pretty good).  He’s untouchable.

The others on my list are probably even more predictable: Paul McCartney, Wes Anderson, Billy Corgan… I’m tempted to put Michael Jackson on there, but I’m still not sure.  But enough from me.  What do you guys think?

-Darrell

Warning: the following post is extremely long.  I hope you brought your attention span.

I’m sure you all remember that fateful day when Jim Cramer appeared on The Daily Show to get reamed by Jon Stewart.  A day later, I emailed my buddy Dave to see what he thought of it.  My thinking: he’s my only friend with a degree in economics, so I should probably trust his opinion better than those who host talk shows on basic cable.  What followed was a largely one-sided discussion about economics that helped ease my doubts and answer my questions.

Why am I posting this now and not, say, four weeks ago?  You see, this blog has a policy of reacting to news after most people have forgotten about it.  I think we should be able to step back from events in order to put them in proper perspective.  A little distance is necessary for sober analysis; let the rest of the media clutter our thoughts with half-cocked hokum.

(You see that paragraph up there?  In just a few sentences, I deflected my obvious laziness, inflated my wisdom, AND proclaimed myself a member of the media.  That’s some fuckin’ writing — somebody call the Peabody people.)

Of course, this four-paragraph introduction is only here to distract you from what will soon become obvious: that Dave is the only one with fully formed opinions.  So enjoy the following, which is our email conversation from that fateful day.  I’ve edited it a bit to make it more blog-friendly, but these emails are completely and totally real.

Hey Dave-o,

By chance, did you see Jim Cramer get his ass reamed on the Daily Show?  I’m wondering what your perspective is on the issue — are Jon Stewart’s points right?  As a layman listening to another layman, it sounds pretty good, but I can’t be sure.  What’s your take?  If you haven’t seen it, go to thedailyshow.com and watch the whole thing.

-Darrell

Darrell!  Hey busta - long time no talksola!  I’m flattered you’d think of your good ol’ buddy Mr. Dave!

I just got home from work, and I watched the whole thang:

Jon Stewart has this special ability to make a bunch of unrelated points seem related.  When he wants to make it look like he’s winning an argument, he counters good responses from his guests with entirely different points…

I’m trying to figure out the shortest way to summarize my opinions on that episode, and I think it’s this:  The popular understanding of our recent financial problems is largely wrong, and Jon Stewart epitomizes popular understanding.  Know what I mean?

Worse, Jon Stewart likes to blame the supply side for demand side problems.  You can’t fault CNBC or Jim Cramer for selling useless (and very expensive and risky!) crap to stupid (self-selected higher income) people.  If we are going to start blaming corporations for “mostly-false” advertising (or programming), there are far better targets with far poorer victims, ya know?

He apparently thinks CNBC should take its more subtle commentaries (which do indeed exist on the channel) and make it the headlines:  “This just in!  We’re not entirely sure if the DOW will rise today, but a survey of 712 finance professionals concludes an implied probability of 57% that it will indeed go up.  More breaking news: A recent survey of 10 labor economists suggest the S&P might in fact go down over the next 3 months due to mean wages rising at an abnormal rate.  Though a large interview we conducted with 4,000 behavioral psychologists suggests these labor economists might be biased in their weighting of labor statistics in the matter…  Anyways, maybe you should buy some stocks today!  But maybe not!!  Stay tuned for more inconclusive data in commodities!!”

Sorry, email rant.  Can’t help it.

Anyways, I’m curious to know which specific points Jon Stewart had that you caught your attention.  I was actually going to ask before I started writing this email, but I figured I could tackle it more generally…  And now here I am, at the end of the email, realizing I should have gone an entirely different direction.

Oh well.  Shoutbackatcherboiee, biatch!

- D-hole

I agree with your general points: buyer beware, CNBC is selling/advertising financial advice to people who shouldn’t be listening to them (and NOBODY should listen to any one source exclusively anyway), so I didn’t really care for the fact that he lumped together CNBC, Cramer, and all those irresponsible loan-giver-outers (see? I know my shit!).

And what of the inevitable counter-argument that this know-it-all journalism harms the market by confusing everyone’s judgment?  Is there something to that?  Were there actually scores of people buying Bear Sterns a week before it collapsed simply because Jim Cramer yelled that he loved the stock?

One more thing: Jon Stewart said that there are two markets — the “safe” 401(k) market and the dynamic stock-exchange market — and that the dynamic market is taking advantage of the safe investors’ cash (”capitalizing on your adventure” is how he put it).  Is there anything to that, or is it paranoid bullshit?

I’ll stop for now.  Respond at your will.

-Darrell

You’re definitely no layman…  I was about to point that out in my last email, but you already knew it.  Though I love kissing ass.  (Literally, that’s actually my career these days - I literally make out with people’s buttholes!)

There’s a much bigger issue here.  Most people these days try to simplify it by saying exactly what you implied they say:  Banks were acting “irresponsibly,” and their inability to regulate themselves, or be regulated, somehow caused or at least contributed to recent financial problems.

Banks did not choose to give loans to people they “knew” couldn’t pay them back.  They were only irresponsible in that they couldn’t time the market perfectly.  For 15 years, loan-giver-outers (it’s a fine term) made nardloads of money on loans, and investors in these banks made nardloads in returns, and the economy grew at a nardloadingly fast pace from 1990 to 2007, with some tiny, tiny blips in 2001-2003.  15 years of more people than ever becoming more wealthy than ever at a pace we’ve never seen before in human history apparently comes at the cost of a not-as-bad-as-the-TV-tells-us (so far) recession.

People like to invest in assets (homes in this case) that increase in price, and things that increase in price attract more investors, and more investors investing in a market with supply that can’t keep pace with demand raises prices even further.  Speculative bubble.

Just because this time around the speculative bubble was based on banks lending money for real estate does not mean it’s any worse than venture capital firms buying stock en masse in tech companies in the late ’90s.  Or oil in the ’70s.  Or even “regular” stocks over periods of time…  Growth often means things go up too fast, and then come down too fast.

The point?

People involved in bubbles can’t be called irresponsible.  Only under the condition that a free market investing its money in the most valuable endeavors is irresponsible can you call bubbleers irresponsible… 

And to further stress this point, Jim Cramer said the same thing on The Daily Show:

Stewart: “In what world is a 35 to 1 leveraged position sane?”
Cramer: “The world that made you 30% [richer] year over year from 1999 to 2007.”

…Good, good stuff… 

And you can make an even better point using competition as your impetus:  Banks that didn’t give out 35 to 1 leveraged loans were (or would have been) punished by shareholders.

So that covers the most important point I think…  But maybe you already agreed with all of that.  It was fun to write, at least.

As for the other points:

1.  Confusing people’s judgment / Cramer’s command to buy Bear Stearns -

Is there any other reality we could be living in?  Or rather, I totally disagree that it’s possible to “confuse people’s judgment”.

I’m a strong believer that there really is no way to fight an ocean of demand.  Millions of people perceive Cramer’s show in millions of different ways, and in no parallel universe would CNBC’s choosing to do the “right” thing (which is what, exactly? Headlines from my first email?) change the fact that people are going to be watching, reading, blogging about and masturbating to ways to make money quickly and easily.  If CNBC didn’t exist, the transition would be seamless.  An equivalent number of people would be getting an equivalent amount of false data somewhere else.

2.  Safe investments are screwed by dangerous investing -

First of all, that’s what makes any good economy so dynamic.  There’s a continuous spectrum of investments’ risks, not simply “safe” and “ass-raping.”  The thing about safety is this:  People in 401ks make less money while the stock market is going up, and lose less money when it’s going down.  The only conceivable way in which a speculative bubble can, itself, really harm other markets is if you take a cross-section of time.  In other words, if you put ALL of your money into a 401k in 2007 that was only incidentally related to the real estate bubble, you would have lost an “unfair amount” of money over the past two years.  But shit - I say be patient (which is what 401ks are all about) and it’ll all come back someday.  Just not this year.

In fact, any “safe market” investor does not pile all of his life savings into the market after 15 years of unparalleled growth.  By definition, that’s risky…  And even if he did pile it all in, it implies he is younger (or old and unfuckingbelievably unlucky) and should be waiting for long term growth anyway.

So no, the only people harmed by the “capitalizing on your adventure” process are old people who all of a sudden decided to pour their life savings into stocks sometime in the year 2007.  Everybody else made a ton of money over the last few years, and is now losing a portion of it.

Considering the outcry against “risky and irresponsible” capitalists these days, either Old-and-Unlucky is a huge demographic, or there’s a ton of political bias (agenda, perhaps?) behind it.  I’m guessing the latter.

Wow, that’s a long email.

So whatcha think, D-Johns?

Now there’s the response I was hoping for!  First off, I’m delighted and relieved to learn that our economic woes are a consequence of people behaving in a free market, and that you seem to have similar trust that capitalism can work itself out.  I’ve also long suspected that this recession really isn’t so bad (sure, there’s practically no more Circuit City or Washington Mutual, and Clear Channel laid off my favorite radio host, but I’m not waiting in a fucking bread line), so I’m glad to see you write that.

And yes, I did agree with your points already, but I haven’t seen many people make them recently.  Having zero economic training beyond casual reading (really — I didn’t even take an econ class in high school), all I could do in the face of all this is to shrug my shoulders and say that it looks like capitalism is just being capitalism and that it’ll work itself out.  Much like baseball fans’ argument about Manny Ramirez’s antics — okay, he’s acting weird and for some reason this week he’s upset at some random clubhouse employee, but it’s just Manny being Manny; he’ll forget about it eventually and hit 50 home runs on the year.  The market, like Manny, has its unpredictability, but overall it’s pretty reliable.

So that leads me to my next question: if this hiccup is just that — a hiccup that came naturally at the cost of a period of ridiculous boom — should we be doing anything about it?  Does the economy actually need stimulation, or is it perfectly okay that small- to mid-sized banks that I don’t invest in are shuttering?

And how does Obama play into all this?  You’ve written that you suspect Obama to be a secret economist, but the first major thing he did as President was to push an eleventy billion-dollar spending bill through Congress.  I like his rhetoric about creating jobs without make-work and that it sure seems like we should do something, but is this stimulus package good economics?

-Darrell

I knew you’d kept the faith.  I was starting to think that, perhaps, there was a lot more hippie peer pressure in your life these days…  Actually, I’m guessing that’s true - but you’ve still got the goods…  Deep inside…  :)

The question “does the economy actually need stimulation” is the hardest fuckin’ question of all, ain’t it?  And it depends 10000% on what your goals are.  I mean, are we shooting for an economy with no moral hazard and malinvestment?  Or are we just trying to maximize aggregate demand (which is what Obama’s trillions  in “stimulus” is “laying the groundwork for.”  Quotation marks should be emphasized.)

The idea of stimulus is that the government fills in the gaps left by a slowdown in investment and consumer spending.  The benefit would be that you avoid the collapse of economies of scale and prevent the repercussions of scaring investors from high volatility (AKA letting things [businesses] fail), but the cost is high deficit and high “malinvestment”.  Malinvestment is another topic altogether, though…  Along the Ron Paul philosophy lines, in case you’re curious.  Lots of people can “prove” that it doesn’t occur…

Anyway…

During any large(r) recession - and especially right now - the U.S. can borrow money unbelievably cheaply (because everyone in the world is freaking out and flocking to the good ol’ safe investment of the U.S. government).  So the plan is this:  Nobody else in the world knows what to do with their savings, so either U.S. consumers will spend them or the U.S. government will.  Interesting little position we take in the world, ya know?

So if we’re going to try to prop up aggregate demand (which most people agree we have to, or else we get underutilized [WASTED!] resources [people's ability to work]) the only question is how should we spend all this cheap money?

Some people say tax cuts, but others think that’s blowing your load too soon and cutting off your ability to raise revenue in the future.

And then there’s Obama’s folks, who think giving money over the course of a few years to people who will spend it at varying speeds is the best way to ensure lasting demand.

Personally, I think that’s just Obama’s political capital being wasted on bullshit non-destructible government infrastructure capital.  Or rather, Obama is just paying off his supporters (or buying a political base).  Porky pork.  Or combinations…

So I’m presently of the opinion (and it does change) that if we’re going to use fiscal policy (instead of “unconventional monetary policy” - I’ll explain later) to recharge consumer demand, we should do it with a large initial burst, followed by (if necessary) smaller ones…  But creating government jobs at the cost of a future inability to stop paying for those jobs (AKA non-destructible gov’t) and higher debt interest seems silly when there are plenty of corporate incentives that could be handed out…  Or individual incentives…    To be less cryptic:  I’m a fan of tax breaks…  Particularly of the First Term George Bush style.  I know - what an unpopular thing to say, right?  Mostly I like tax breaks for the very reason most people don’t - it’s hard to raise them in the future, putting a natural cap on government spending…

-HOWEVER-

That’s only if we have to use fiscal policy, which we don’t.

The original “stimulus” package, AKA bank bailout, was a pretty substantial success.  Contrary to popular opinion.  Outside of actual data (TED spread, if you’re interested) the federal reserve pumping money to large institutions that need it is generally far, far better at stimulating the economy than giving it to the government to give it to people who don’t need it, and will only use it after 1-3 years.

Also, the federal reserve can do a whole load of other shit.  Like taxing bank reserves to increase lending…  And buying up government debt by the truckload.  Essentially they can print money until we get inflation.  As soon as we get inflation, the recession is over.

Interesting factoid:  The only reason we’re not at that point yet is that the lag between making “new” money and its effects is too long, and the federal reserve is literally afraid of overstimulating the economy.  I.e. afraid of too much growth.  Put in a more interesting perspective:  It’s so easy to get out of a recession, the federal reserve does not want to overdo it.  No kidding.

Though long-term inflation is far more damaging than a short term recession…  So it’s not that interesting of a factoid, I suppose…

And another point:  The government can’t actually create jobs.  If it’s paying for them with tax dollars (…very important stipulation…) the government can’t make 1 job without destroying more than 1 job.

But, again, the point to Obama’s stimulus is that we’re not paying for them with present-day tax dollars…  We’re borrowing money from the confused Chinese…

OK, I should have split this into two emails so you could argue (or agree profusely) with the first half while I continue to rant.  ..Ah, well…

…and that’s where the conversation ended.  UNTIL NOW!

Dave gave me a bit too much to swallow all at once (in sharp contrast with our prison days), so I’ll only address a few things.  First, what do you mean the government can’t create jobs?  Half our country works for the government.  Most of the New Deal involved government-created jobs to build campgrounds and clear fire roads.  I hope we’re not arguing semantics, but it seems to me that, for better or worse, the government is quite able to create jobs.

Second, if this is just Obama spending his political capital, why would he do it as unwisely as you suggest he has?  I have a feeling that he’s just following the wave of liberal “let’s do something” thinking, and this is as imaginative as they get when they have a majority.  Because really — what’s more lily-white liberal than a federal policy that throws money at companies who show that they’re “trying hard” and “acting morally”?

And since this conversation isn’t complicated enough, how does Tim Geithner figure into all this?  Why the sudden hatred from the media?  Is he being scapegoated here?  He does appear to be a bit of a dullard, but I thought that’s what we wanted in our Treasury Secretaries.  We all remember what a disaster it was when Dubya appointed Sammy Hagar.  Sure, it was fun for awhile, but the moment he tried to implement the Tequila Standard, he completely lost me.

Holy fuck, this post is over three thousand words long.  Let’s move this to the comments, shall we?  Open season on the economy has begun!

-Darrell

I don’t know what’s more surprising: that someone I know has been thinking about the World Baseball Classic, or that he hoped that I would have an enlightening opinion about it.  I would have been less surprised to read a call for my take on Indian cricket (Deep Dasgupta is such a prince).  Regardless, I take requests, so here’s your WBC post, Josh.

My most honest opinion of the WBC is one of apathy.  There’s already a baseball team I root for, and it sure as shit doesn’t have Derek Jeter, David Wright, or Dustin Pedroia on it.  Until those guys wear purple (grumble, I mean Sedona red), they can fuck right off.  Besides, I’m a little old and jaded to associate national pride with the birthplaces of ballplayers.

The more I actually think about the WBC, though, the less I like it.  First off, its timing blows.  The beauty of spring training is that our favorite players get a whole month to prepare mentally and physically for daily baseball.  Now all of a sudden, a handful of the best is forced to play at 100% right out of the gate.  Not only does that disrupt a player’s rhythm, but it puts him at much greater risk of injury (just ask Kevin Youkilis).  Not cool.

So we’re messing things up every three years so we can find which nation has the “best” baseball team.  Umm… doesn’t Major League Baseball already do a good job at finding the best team without having to stick to arbitrary border restrictions?

Speaking of which, the requirements to join some of these teams seems a little off.  I’ve heard complaints that Randall Simon played for the Dutch team.  Well, Simon’s from Curacao, which is a Dutch colony, so I’ll let it slide.  But some others are on much shakier ground.  For example, Frank Catalanotto is from New York, but played for Italy because of his Italian-sounding name.  Texan Mike Hargrove was Italy’s manager because he loves spaghetti.  Alex Rodriguez joined the Dominican team because his parents are Dominican (and he hates America).  Is this supposed to be an exhibition of a nation’s best ballplayers or not?

And why the hell does South Africa have a team?  It’s nowhere near any other participating nation, so they have to be lumped in a pool with Cuba, the Dominican Republic, and Australia (another team whose existence puzzles me).  South Africa doesn’t have a huge baseball following — its most popular sports are soccer, rugby, and spreading HIV.  It has almost zero baseball experience — it played baseball in the Olympics once in 2000 (and went 1-6).  Most hilariously, South Africa has never produced a Major Leaguer ever: its players have gotten only as high as Double-A.  Clearly, they’re in only to make the standings symmetrical.

My biggest problem with the World Baseball Classic is its name.  What’s so goddamned classic about a tournament patched together in 2006?  This is only the second time you’ve done this, and most of the world doesn’t care — there’s nothing “classic” about that!  This goes back to what really bugs me about baseball fans (particularly those over fifty): anything old is automatically good.  Baseball is a “traditional”, “pastoral”, “classic” pastime that hasn’t changed in a century.  One, that’s bullshit, and two, that attitude is why football is more popular.  Football has allowed itself to adapt while you’re still sitting with your thumbs up your asses complaining about how baseball’s been tainted by steroids, body armor, pine tar, batting gloves, synthetic uniforms, and non-white players.  Go fuck yourselves.

I digress.  The one good thing about the WBC, as far as I’m concerned, is that both times I correctly predicted that Japan would win.  It remains the only sporting event I can predict with more than 5% accuracy.  Still, I don’t care.  If it disappeared tomorrow, I wouldn’t miss it, and I doubt most of the world would either.

-Darrell

I don’t believe it — those assholes at AIG spent all their bailout money on bonuses!  Bonuses!  And those were the very same people who fucked everything up in the first place!  Ugh, people are so greedy.  Never mind that $165 million is less than one-thousandth of the total bailout package, or that these employees were contractually owed bonuses.  It’s just another outrage in this greed-fueled, morally bankrupt society.

And don’t get me started about how insensitive our new President is.  Did you see him on Leno?  He likened his bowling game to those of Special Olympians!  How dare he make fun of the handicapped like that.  Besides, I’d bet that most retarded bowlers can put together a better game than old gutter-ball Barry.  Zing!

While I’m on the subject, did you see Obama making the NCAA picks?  What, no love for the women’s bracket?  What the fuck, Mr. President?  Don’t you watch women’s college basketball?  Don’t you TiVo those daytime slots that ESPN has nothing better to fill with?  Even if you don’t, you should have at least pretended that women’s basketball is somehow interesting or relevant.  No matter the year, just follow the seedings, and pick UConn or Tennessee to win it all.  It would be good politics, too — Tennessee and Connecticut are swing states.  (They’re not?  Oh.)

All right, enough of that. 

I’ve had it with outrage.  By nature, it’s an overreaction, which is far from what we need.  What really irks me about media/public outrage, though, is that it obscures the actual issue nearly every time.  The problem with the AIG bailouts isn’t just that everyone made a scapegoat where there probably shouldn’t have been one.  The problem is that now it’s assumed that our benevolent government will save us from our economic woes and that if we breach that trust in any way, we will deserve the subsequent shitstorm.  I’m still kind of on the fence about the appropriateness of government bailouts — let’s keep having that discussion.

The whole kerfuffle seemed to me like Congress was an aunt who gave AIG $100 for its birthday.  Then AIG spent a quarter of it to buy lube from a men’s room vending machine.  When Aunt Congress found out about it, she threatened to cut AIG off forever.  Because that’s not how you spend special money given with love and for a purpose.  Relax, Aunt Congress — you got your thank-you note and most of the money was spent on food and diapers.

As for the Obama stuff, it just goes back to my “lighten the fuck up” attitude that I need not repeat.  In essence: careless or hurtful comments shouldn’t bother us as much as they do.  Go read my Don Imus post if you want it in more detail.

You know, writing a bit about the economy reminds me of an email exchange I had with the esteemed Mr. Foree a couple weeks ago.  If there’s any interest (and if David approves), I might post a blog-friendly version of it in the next few days.  Anybody want to see what it’s like when two uber-nerds talk about economics?  Anybody?

Also, regarding my recent lack of posts: I apologize.  My schedule has been odd — I’m either sleeping, working, or carrying on with friends, which leaves little time to be lonely and thoughtful.  My afternoons are starting to open up now, so more regular blogging should be in the future.  Oh, and since Josh asked about the World Baseball Classic — there’s a reason I never mentioned it.  I don’t care about the World Baseball Classic.  But since I always try to fulfill requests, I’ll make that the subject of my next post.  Happy?

-Darrell

I’m not one for fashion shows.  I’m not one for fashion in general.  If I need jeans, I’ll buy a pair that fits and wear it until it gets giant holes.  Accordingly, I get no pleasure from watching expressionless, eighty-pound models plod across a runway in some garish assortment of tweed, polyester, and ostrich feathers.  I hesitate to dismiss the practice, however, because I recognize that it has some value.  The fact that so many people seem to care about it is value enough, but I see that it goes beyond that. 

Fashion is a branch of art and design that garners a lot of attention.  Designers are artists who strive to create something thought-provoking, and the models are the blank canvases (outside and in!  Hoo-ah!).  I can see that.  Just because I’m an outsider who doesn’t give to shits about it doesn’t mean I can’t recognize that it might have value.  In short, I try hard not to be too dismissive.

I think this attitude can be attributed to two things.  First, I’m an enlightened and generally awesome human being.  Second (and more important), I’ve been the victim of dismissiveness on too many occasions.  Most people I’ve encountered, perhaps understandably, have been skeptical that there’s actual artistic and intellectual value in professional wrestling… or that William Shatner’s music career isn’t just a big joke… or even that my goddamned blog is worth reading.  The good people actually listen to what I say and seem interested in giving my passions a try.  Most, though, let their eyes glaze over as they hope I move on to another topic.

What is it about people that makes them dismissive of things they aren’t a part of?  For years, I’ve had to fight the urge to dismiss fashion as a bunch of self-important claptrap.  There’s certainly an element of that, but I’ve come to realize the error in dismissing an entire art form that is popular with large groups of people.  It’s not my cup of tea, but I won’t think less of those who drink it.

It probably just goes down to that instinctive fear of the other.  Anything unknown or outside one’s group is immediately distrusted.  (If you want a perfect dramatic exploration of this phenomenon, watch the ways different groups/tribes have interacted on Lost.)

Yeah, I know this argument is seeming slightly familiar, but it bothers me a lot.  In this age, as we become more and more global, we should all work hard to be more understanding of others’ enjoyment and a little less dismissive.  Now, let’s all join hands.

-Darrell

My job gives me little time to have actual, deep, goofy thoughts.  It’s a shame, since it’s been too long since I’ve written a love letter or a story about a lemur that lives in a stadium.  The upside, though, is that a dearth of deep thoughts means a wealth of shallow ones.  That’s right, boys and girls, it’s blogpodge time.

In my bathroom is a copy of Anthony Bourdain’s The Nasty Bits.  It’s on the shelf above the toilet, right by the mirror.  Looking at the cover today, I realized that Bourdain looks happier in reflection.  A different perspective on the same picture yielded an opposite interpretation.  It really makes a man think about art and emotion.  It also makes a man wonder whether Anthony Bourdain is our generation’s Mona Lisa.  Chew on that one for awhile.

I missed the State of the Union address this year, as I was working Tuesday evening.  Pity, I know, since that’s the sort of event I get excited about.  The consensus among bloggers and talk-show hosts is that Obama did fine, Jindal was embarrassing, and Nancy Pelosi was way too eager to give a standing O.  How is it that Pelosi makes a spectacle of herself every State of the Union address?  First, it was the blinking.  Then, she tried to out-scowl Dick Cheney (a losing battle if there ever was one).  And remember the year when her pantsuit caught fire and the Sergeant at Arms had to cover her in the flag?  It’s always something with that woman.

Michael Cera has reportedly ended his hold-out, making the possibility of an Arrested Development movie more of a probability.  I have no feeling about this other than sheer nervous excitement.

It’s a comedy cliche to have acts about airline food, television, and bad relationships.  The reason they’re cliche, of course, is that those are the subjects most experienced by comics.  Think about it — you’re a stand-up on the road most of your life.  You’ll fly on a lot of planes, spend most of your off-time watching TV in hotel rooms, and your girlfriend will eventually get sick of not having you around.  Comedians, being hired observers of life, have nothing else to observe.  That’s why I think comics shouldn’t be allowed to tour for more than four months at a time before taking a four-month break.  It would make comics a lot better as a whole.  Need proof?  Jay Leno does stand-up 300 nights a year.  Case closed.

I’m on Facebook now, but I don’t really do anything with it.  Sure, I spy on people’s pictures every now and then, and I’ll play that Geo Challenge game every couple weeks, but I don’t cotton to much of its nonsense.  With that in mind, can anyone tell me the utility of “sending drinks” to someone?  Oh, I got a virtual appletini from someone I haven’t seen in a decade.  Umm… yay?

Last weekend was the Oscars, so the first thing that came to my mind was, “I wonder what won the Golden Raspberry Award for worst picture?”  I found that The Love Guru was justly honored, but not before I noticed something about the Awards’ website.  At this moment, I think razzies.com has the worst design of any modern website I’ve seen.  It’s like Web 2.0 had drunken sex with Angelfire, then they both puked inside AOL’s mouth.  I wanted to think that they’re willfully producing something so god-awful as a cheeky nod to horribleness, but considering the site’s desired functions, I can’t be so generous.

In case you haven’t heard, Wrestlemania XXVI will be at Cardinals Stadium in Glendale.  I’m saving my money already.  That’s right — in just over a year, you might just see me on the PPV in my Santino shirt holding up a pro-Jericho sign.  I wonder if my excitement will sustain the entire year.

I don’t like listening to music in the morning; I prefer sports-talk radio.  I’m just not in a music mood within an hour of waking up (other things I’m not in the mood for within an hour of waking up: food, television, human interaction).  Sports-talk normally does me just fine, except when the commercials come on.  I had that damned credit-report song stuck in my head all day.  Awhile later, I listened to a Beatles album.  When it ended, I was back to humming about serving chowder and iced tea.  Buh.

That’s enough wisdom to hold you over for a few days, right?  Right?  Anyone?

-Darrell

Sixteen years.  Fuck.

I remember when it first started.  I heard that Letterman was moving to CBS and that his show was going to be taken over by some stranger named Conan.  It was that year, 1993, that I got a television for my birthday.  I had been a Letterman fan since I was two (at least, I had been indoctrinated to be one at that early age).  But one show struck me from the beginning.  And now, Late Night with Conan O’Brien will air its final show on Friday.  I’m still in disbelief.

Sixteen years!  How many times have I watched a guy in a bear suit furiously rub his diaper-enclosed genitalia?  How many staring contests have I witnessed?  How many times have I been pleasantly surprised to see Abe Vigoda yet again?  And now it’ll all come to an end.

I know what you’re thinking: “but Darrell, he’s taking over The Tonight Show, the crown jewel of talk shows!”  First of all, Leno’s kinda clouded the luster of that jewel.  Second of all, it won’t be the same.  An hour earlier means the average viewer’s age is higher, which means fewer masturbating animals, fewer vomiting Muppets, fewer sex-addled Lincolns.  Conan is getting a better job and a higher profile, but there’s little doubt in my mind that his brilliance will suffer for it.

The best, most absurd talk show of my lifetime will die the evening of February 20, 2009, and it needs its due reverence.  After all, it probably shaped my sense of humor more than any other television program.  South Park has its place, as do The Simpsons, The Kids in the Hall, and early ’90s standup comedy.  But Conan’s still probably in the top spot.  So in accordance with Conan’s recent decision to show old clips, allow me to haphazardly wander down memory lane.

I was happy to see Cleo Clemmons’s Inappropriate Response Channel on the best-of satellite TV bit.  I was also hoping for Jar Barf and Stackenblochen, but you can’t get everything.

Quick aside: it seems that everyone I know, at some point, has seen the Clive Clemmons Inappropriate Response Channel on Conan at some point in his life.  It was such a random bit to stick with me, so I was dumbfounded when I found that pretty much every dormmate of mine at the UofA had seen it at least once.  And this was before YouTube.

One bit I loved that wasn’t repeated often enough: New Stamps.  My favorite remains the series of Bert (the Muppet) reacting to the news of Dean Martin’s death.  (I wish I could find a link to that one.)  Recently, New Stamps has been sacrificed in favor of State Quarters, which is just lazy comedy that makes fun of states.  Fuck the standard Arkansas-incest jokes — I’m convinced that a whole show could be made of the more ridiculous New Stamps and Patterns bits.

This paragraph break is dedicated to the memory of Carl “Oldy” Olson.  Doff your caps.

Aw, remember the Law and Ordies?  It was an awards show devoted entirely to the fifteen different incarnations of Law & Order.  There were a lot of categories, like “best title card” or “best one-liner”.  The big joke was that the only member of any cast to appear was SVU’s Christopher Meloni, but the other versions of Law & Order kept winning the prize.  When SVU finally won for Best Cast Intro (or something like that), Christopher Meloni played it like he won an Oscar.  Brilliant.

A seminal moment in my childhood was when Conan’s cast of characters reenacted the 1997 MLB All-Star Game.  I can’t find any record of this, but I can promise you a few things: Dr. Ruth played Mike Piazza, who struck out multiple times that game.  She swung and missed a baseball on a fishing pole.  Then, Tomorry the Ostrich, playing Sandy Alomar, hit the game-winning homerun with its neck.  The bit concluded with the “traditional” bench-clearing brawl, which at the time was the funniest thing a 13-year-old Darrell had ever seen.

I was glad to see the Walker, Texas Ranger Lever on Thursday’s show, but was disappointed that they showed only one clip.  Just the “Haley Joel Osment has AIDS” one?  Really?  You gotta build up to that one.  Besides, it doesn’t beat the flaming enemy kicked out of a third-story window into a pile of barrels marked “flammable”.  Not even close.

And what about the contributing writers?  Brian Stack was great as the traveling salesman, the Interrupter, Frankenstein, and the smooth 1940s radio crooner.  That guy sang a racist limerick as well as anyone.  How about Jon Glaser as “Pubes”, the guy who could ruin any conversation just by saying his name?  He also played Bob Seeger singing the warm-up songs to Super Bowl XL (the best being “Against the Seahawks”).  Let us not forget the inimitable Brian McCann as the FedEx Pope, Preparation H Raymond, “Where’s my kayak?”, and (my favorite) Mick Ferguson, the guy who’s awfully proud of his bulletproof legs.  (To those unfamiliar: the bit always ends with Mick getting shot in the heart.)

Too much good stuff, and it’s all going away forever.  I’ll miss you, Late Night.  One of the biggest shames of all is that the show is being handed over to Jimmy fucking Fallon while a more capable Carson Daly languishes at 12:30 AM.  (You can read my surprisingly heartfelt defense of Carson Daly another time.  Suffice it to say that Daly’s a thoughtful, prepared interviewer who has actual talk-show experience and a better attitude and TV persona than Fallon will ever have.)

Sigh.

If you’re not doing anything tonight, come over to my house Friday at 11:30 to see television history.  The show that got me through adolescence is coming to an end; you’ll laugh at the old bits, you’ll smile to see Andy Richter again, and you might just see me cry.

-Darrell

If you’re on Facebook, you might have noticed a recent trend.  People have been writing notes entitled “25 Things About Me” and tagging 25 people on such notes in order to encourage them to write one of their own.  As you know, I’ve always been one to follow trends and to give in to imagined peer pressure.  Let’s begin.

25 Things About Darrell

1. I have a blog (www.zazzumplop.com) that is probably the single greatest contribution anyone has ever made to humanity.

2. Corrolary to number 1, I daily receive death threats from people complaining that I don’t write on my blog enough.

3. Before I had my blog, I was a regular contributor to Salon.com.  I wrote an advice column under the pseudonym Jermaine O’Feel.  All archives of the column have been expunged due to legal matters that I am prohibited from detailing.

4. I am a lover of the outdoors, but I’m a terrible hunter, as my game can hear me sneeze from a mile away.

5. I love sushi, but remain suspicious of the Japanese people.

6. Due to a genetic defect, I was born with a malformed third arm coming out of my back.  Its surgical removal was a gift from my mother for my fourteenth birthday.

7. I was a competitive juggler in high school, but was forced to hang up the pins when I tore my rotator cuff.  I’m mostly healed now, but I still can’t toss accurately with my right arm, so don’t ask me to juggle, okay?

8. I once lost a game of Risk to a trained bear.  I hate that game to this day.

9. Until I was ten years old, I thought snow was as mythical as dragons or unicorns.

10.  I’ve long thought that “Rick Buttsex” would be a great name for a local TV weatherman.

11. I am pastaphobic — just driving by an Olive Garden makes my blood pressure spike.

12. The best gift I’ve ever given to a girlfriend was an autographed photo of Ryan Stiles (she was a big Whose Line is it Anyway? fan).  I never told her that it wasn’t actually Ryan Stiles’s signature.

13. I’ve never had a threesome, but I have had sex with a dog in the room.

14. I have commissioned three different fashion designers to design a hat that doesn’t make me look twelve.  That’s three wasted commissions.

15. I once called the fire department because I ran out of beer.  Since it was a slow day, the firemen were cool about it.  They even brought a passel of women, thus proving the theory that firemen are great at getting tail.

16. My toes are insured for $3 million by Lloyd’s of London.  There’s nothing special about my toes, but if a safe ever falls on them, hoo boy…

17. When I was four, I invented the corkscrew.  When my father told me that it had already been invented, I threw a tantrum that lasted two days.

18. Even though I never played, I have had a recurring dream in which I am a concert violinist.  The dream always ends with my hands melting onto the stage.  I have no idea what it means.

19. I have many friends, but I can only trust the ones whose names start with consonants.  Nothing against them; it’s just a superstition.

20. I have the strength of ten men.

21. Most people think I have blue eyes, but that’s just the color of the contact lenses I wear.  My actual irises are almost completely colorless.  It tends to unnerve people when I show them.

22. I have trouble going through metal detectors at airports because I have a bullet lodged in my right thigh.  One of these days I’ll go to a doctor to have it removed, but it’s been okay for over three years, so I’m in no hurry.

23. The closest I ever came to being a professional writer was when a script I wrote was bought in order to be re-worked as an episode of Emily’s Reasons Why Not with Heather Graham.  My dream died after the show got cancelled after one episode.

24. On a bet, I once subsisted for a full week on only beer and oyster crackers.  It was the toughest eight dollars I ever earned.

25. I’m the most interesting person I know.

There ya go.  I hope you all appreciate me just a little more now.

-Darrell

That was one hell of a game.  Needless to say, I’m pretty bummed right now.  It was the first Super Bowl whose outcome I actively cared about (I was a Jerry Rice fan for Super Bowl XXIX, so that’s as close as I’ve come until now).  All that in mind, I have a lot of thoughts from this incredible, memorable, heart-breaking game.

First, the obvious point: why the fuck wasn’t that last play reviewed???  At first glance, everyone at my house assumed it was an incomplete pass.  I wasn’t even worried at the time — I just thought, “well, at least they’ll review it and we’ll know for sure.”  But they didn’t even do that.  It’s the last play of the Super Bowl, and this is the reason you have instant replay.  Fucking use it.  Even if the play were upheld, I wouldn’t feel as bad about the game.

That said, the Steelers won that game.  The ‘Nals couldn’t stop that final drive, and Santonio Holmes’s catch was otherworldly.  Ugh, a Buckeye had to break my heart.  Ain’t that just too fitting?

I’m still pretty upset about the last play of the first half.  What should have been a 14-10 halftime lead became a 17-7 halftime deficit.  And come on, Cardinals — you can’t push a lumbering linebacker out of bounds?  You had a hundred yards to do it!  I don’t care that he might have actually been short of the goal line, or how many penalties the refs ignored on that play.  There’s no acceptable reason for eleven offensive players to be unable to take down a 250-pound James Harrison on that play.

I loved it when Kurt finally started throwing to Fitz.  I knew Pittsburgh would stack up on him, but I was hoping Warner would toss it his way once or twice.  Small consolation: with those two late touchdowns, Larry Fitzgerald officially had the best postseason by any wide receiver in history.  Whose records did he break?  Why, that Jerry Rice fellow’s I casually mentioned above.  Good for you, Fitz.

Another cold-comfort distinction: Ken Whisenhunt, in my mind, made the best possible use of his challenges.  Two-for-two with the earned third challenge in his back pocket, and both of those plays were close, iffy calls.  I don’t think I would have even considered challenging that overturned Roethlisberger TD in the first quarter.  Coach Wiz, excellent job.

I’m not going to be a whiner about officiating, but… that “roughing the holder” penalty shouldn’t have been called.

Let’s not forget the greatness that was the Cardinals’ final punt of the season.  Caught and downed in the air at the 2, leading to a safety.  That set up the go-ahead TD more than any play on offense (except for, you know, Fitz’s amazing speed on the play itself).

Football really is the best sport to watch on TV, and there’s nothing better than having a room full of people who care about the game’s outcome.  I love it when my house is filled with loud, cheering people.  In the few minutes between Fitzgerald’s second TD and the end of the game, it was great to be surrounded by folks wearing red shirts.

I am still upset, but I must put everything into perspective: the Arizona freakin’ Cardinals had the lead in the fourth quarter of the Super Bowl.  As sad as I am to know that they gave up that lead, I’m amazed and overjoyed that they came this close.  Now, we must convince Kurt Warner not to retire — the longer we can delay the Leinart era, the better.

-Darrell

I have nothing in particular to write about, but I do have an assortment of random thoughts for you.  I think we all know what that means: it’s blogpodge time.

I’m sure you’re wondering how I feel about the seventh (!) season of 24.  So far, I’m pretty pleased.  The writing is still rather stilted, but that comes with the territory, and it’s nevertheless a billion times better than it was in season six.  So far there aren’t any ridiculous budding romances and the preachiness isn’t as obnoxious as it has been.

I’m glad to see that the 24 writers are still good at being vague about world events.  Remember a few years ago when a terrorist nuke plot involved collusion among three unnamed Middle Eastern nations?  Well this year, we get a power-mad warlord from “Sangala” disrupting our national infrastructure.  Sangala, eh?  That shares a border with Somalia and Zimbabwe, right?  Just west of Ghana?

Besides that, the subplots aren’t terrible, the action’s as good as ever, and the new redheaded FBI agent is a total babe.  Most importantly, though, they managed to get the band back together.  As a dyed-in-the-wool fan, it’s great to see Jack, Buchanan, Chloe, and Tony (somehow) kickin’ ass once again.  Yes, the show gets progressively less believable, but it’s still fun.  Now here’s hoping it doesn’t collapse upon itself.

I bought Brian Wilson’s new album, That Lucky Old Sun.  It’s no Smile, but it’s still fucking great.  I’m a big fan.  It’s bouncy and gorgeous.  The whole album is basically a love letter to Los Angeles, which made me realize something: besides David Lynch, I think Brian Wilson is the only person who honestly and completely loves Los Angeles.  Even those who say they love it will do so ironically, or at least qualify it with “in spite of the traffic, earthquakes, pettiness, superficiality, etc…”  But Brian Wilson’s love is pure.

So who’s seen The Wrestler?  It was damn good, though I could have used a few more esoteric wrestling references.  Even still, it’s a nice story that’s well-acted all around.  I will say, though, that even though this will probably be Aronofsky’s most heralded film, I consider it his worst out of the four.  It’s an amazing, engaging movie, but you can’t tell me that it’s better than The Fountain, Requiem for a Dream, or Pi.

Still nervous about the Super Bowl… still can’t believe the Cardinals are in it…

I went to see Tim and Eric live at the Marquee a couple weeks ago.  It was grand — I saw James Quall, David Liebe Hart, DJ Douggpound, the Beaver Boys… if you’re a fan, that means something to you.  If you aren’t a fan, your sense of humor isn’t fucked-up enough.

A week or so ago, I caught a few minutes of the Screen Actors Guild Awards.  Holy fuck, that has to be the most masturbatory program in television history.  Every acceptance speech (except Hugh Laurie’s) made some overwrought statement about how “actors bring light to the world” or some such bullshit.  If it weren’t for frequent cutaways to Christina Hendricks and Anne Hathaway, I would have changed it immediately.

Aw fuck, Paul McCartney’s headlining Coachella on Friday.  Aw fuck, the Cure is headlining Sunday.  I might just have to go this year.  Anyone in for a road trip the weekend of April 17?

-Darrell

This certainly is one hell of a week.  Barack Obama is president AND the Cardinals are in the Super Bowl?  I’m beginning to suspect that I was transported to a parallel universe.  Unfortunately, I’ve already gushed about Obama, and I’m too superstitious to write about the Cardinals until after next Sunday.  What else is there going on?  Oh yeah, our economy is crumbling before our eyes.

Growing up, I never noticed any signs of economic strife or success.  Every so often, I’d just hear news reports that “the economy’s great!” or “the economy’s terrible!” and I’d take their word for it.  Now the signs are apparent.  Circuit City no longer exists.  Linens and Things is no more.  Washington Mutual got swallowed up.  The Borders on Mill and the Kmart by my house are all but shuttered.  And, worst of all, Clear Channel laid off my favorite sports-talk radio host.

I have to devote at least a paragraph to Jeff Dean, even though I might be the only person I know who listened to his show regularly.  In the Valley, you have a choice if you want to listen to sports-talk radio.  Either you want energetic and idiotic, or reasonable and bland.  Jeff Dean was the only sports-talk host who was both reasonable and entertaining.  Also, he’s a Wildcat who grew up in Mesa, frequents strip clubs, and loves Jerry Rice.  Never mind that he’s also a Giants and Niners fan — it was almost like a long-lost brother was on the radio.

It’s kind of funny; it took this for our economic woes to really hit me.  I don’t care if investment banks collapse or if the Dow plunges — I don’t have money to invest.  I don’t care if Circuit City closes down — it was a terrible store anyway.  But man, take away one of my favorite parts about driving around Phoenix, and you force me to say, this economy needs to turn around right now.

Yep, my world revolves around me.  I can’t be unique in that respect.

-Darrell

Over the last few years, it seems like traffic laws have gotten far more restrictive.  The clearest examples to me have to do with speeding and drunk driving.  While I’m by no means a supporter of either, I think it’s time somebody makes a reasoned case for curtailing some of their restrictions.  Hey wait a minute, I have a virtual soapbox, don’t I?  Let’s begin.

The case against our current drunk-driving laws is pretty familiar, at least among the folks I meet in bars.  The .08 legal limit is well below what nearly any adult would consider impaired; driving while buzzed isn’t necessarily more dangerous than driving while stupid; everybody has different body chemistry, so having a legal limit in the first place is capricious; punishment for DUI is rather excessive in most places (especially in my home county of Maricopa); et cetera.  These arguments shouldn’t be new to you.  If they are, you should probably drink more.

The case against photo enforcement is similarly picked-over.  It’s an invasion of privacy to take an image of you while inside your property; it’s a transparent attempt to drive up revenue from speeding tickets; the system is wont to make mistakes that are ridiculously hard to contest; it’s mildly creepy to think that the government is watching you at all times; and so on.  These arguments also shouldn’t be new to you.

What bugs me most about these laws, though, is something that I don’t hear too often: it takes power away from police officers.  The major problem with things like mandatory sentences, chemical benchmarks, and robotic enforcement is that they eliminate a police officer’s discretion.

A few months back, I was snapped by a speed camera.  I was driving north on the 101 through Scottsdale.  It must not have been too long after they had lowered that stretch’s speed limit from 65 to 55.  I was clicked at 68 MPH.  It was a Saturday mid-morning with light traffic that was also averaging around 65 MPH across four lanes in one direction.  In other words, none of us was driving unsafely.  It was a time, place, and situation in which no officer would bother to patrol for speeders, and if a cop were driving alongside us, I sincerely doubt he would write many tickets.  The robot in the van made no such distinctions, however, and it was back to traffic school for me.  Congratulations, police department — you got more cash from my pocket without having to spend any man-hours.

I’ve been pulled over by actual, human police officers before, and I hold no bitterness for any of those incidents.  If a human being decides that I should slow down, that’s fine.  But man, to be told by a fucking machine that I’m an unsafe driver… that’s just uncool.

I digress.  This isn’t just about me, and it’s not at all about getting away with speeding or limiting enforcement of any law.  My point is, it should be a properly trained officer of the law who determines whether a citizen is driving speedily, drunkenly, or unsafely in any manner.  That’s all.  Go ahead and use radar, but make sure a person is operating the machine.  So when the accused’s court date arrives, the officer at the scene can lay out the facts for the judge.  Rather than just saying, “the defendant blew a .08 after going through a random checkpoint,” a cop can say, “I pulled him over because he was driving erratically; he slurred his words, he couldn’t stand up straight, and he kept calling me Grandpa.  It was clear that he shouldn’t have been on the road.”  If a cop can do that, levy whatever punishment you and the Supreme Court deem appropriate.

Why have these laws gotten so harsh?  It’s just how it works — combine government with flawed human psychology and invariably, some laws will go too far.  Just think about how a lot of new laws get passed: somebody gets outraged about a (probably isolated) incident that involves some major injury or death.  X is seen to be the culprit, so we crack down on everyone whose behavior remotely approaches X.  That’s a fine system normally, but with speeding and drunken driving, the other side has no entrenched interest.  Interest groups will fight tooth-and-nail about any new firearms regulation, but the argument about drunk driving is pretty one-sided.  After all, nobody really loves or depends on driving drunk (at least, I hope not).

So it’s not surprising, but it’s still a shame.  In the end, I suspect that these harsher laws make for worse cops.  Granted, I can only speculate about this point, but it stands to reason that the fewer decisions an officer has to make, the less equipped he’ll be to make future decisions.  We should be encouraging our cops to use their judgment rather than depend on arbitrary minutiae.  Rather than spend tax money on new cameras and breathalyzers, let’s channel it into better training for our officers.  I have no problem with overspending on law enforcement if that money actually goes to creating well-informed, well-trained cops.  A reasonable officer of the law is an incredible asset to a community; we shouldn’t be replacing them with robots.

-Darrell

January traditions are grand, aren’t they?  Watching football, drinking heavily, and awaiting the annual parade of lies known affectionately as my Year in Review.  Well, wait no more, little ones.  To use a word I used last year without any idea that Roger Clemens would immortalize it, let’s misremember the past year.
————
JANUARY

The 2008 Presidential primaries begin with the Iowa Caucuses, netting victories for Barack Obama and Mike Huckabee.  Within weeks, Chris Dodd, Joe Biden, Bill Richardson, Duncan Hunter, Gary Coleman, Fred Thompson, Dennis Kucinich, Grant Fuhr, John Edwards, Rudy Giuliani, and Adlai Stevenson all drop out of their respective races.  The field is thus culled to only seventeen Republicans and thirty-five Democrats.

Journeyman relief pitcher Goose Gossage is 2008’s only inductee into the Baseball Hall of Fame.  With the induction comes new competition for Rollie Fingers for the Hall of Fame’s annual Best Bronze Mustache award.

Marion Jones is sentenced to six months in prison for injecting horse tranquilizers into her opponents during the Olympics.  Her only defense: “It was just part of the culture; everybody needs that leg up on the competition.”

Months after filming his legendary performance in The Dark Knight, actor Heath Ledger is found dead of medication overdose.  Ledger’s death leads many to call for abolition of the Screen Actors Guild’s strictly enforced “James Dean clause” in members’ contracts.

President Bush is absent for what would have been his final State of the Union address.  Bush later explains, “Everybody knows yesterday was Senior Ditch Day; me and Cheney went fishin’.”

FEBRUARY

French President Nicolas Sarkozy marries model and mega-babe Carla Bruni.  The French public can only speculate how gorgeous his mistresses must be.

Years of whining, making faces, and arguing with his players finally pay off for Eli Manning as he leads the New York Giants to defeat the 18-0 New England Patriots 17-14 in Super Bowl XLII.  The incredible upset comes in spite of the fact that all game, Patriots coach Bill Belichick shined a laser pointer directly into Manning’s eyes.

In the superest of Super Tuesdays, 24 states (and American Samoa) hold their Republican and Democratic primaries.  All primaries proceed without incident except in Alaska, whose population is too busy keeping an eye on Vladimir Putin.

Less than a week after Uber Tuesday, former Massachusetts Governor Mitt Romney suspends his campaign to go back to his first love: directing gay porn.

The Writers Guild of America strike comes to an end, allowing original television production to resume.  The resulting explosion of creativity from formerly dormant writers brings the world such gems as a TV version of preachy Oscar-winning film Crash and a hip, updated reimagining of Knight Rider.

Roger Clemens testifies to the Senate regarding his suspected steroid use.  He is largely mum throughout his testimony, only saying, “If you want me to testify, I need 22 million dollars and a bucket of steroids.”

Toshiba ceases HD DVD production, giving Sony’s Blu-ray format control of the high-definition media market.  The victory is due in large part to Sony’s specious smear campaign, which suggested that one in every four HD DVDs was infected with bird flu.

Cuban dictator Fidel Castro retires.  The people of Cuba pool all their savings to purchase Castro an imitation Rolex watch.

No Country For Old Men wins the Academy Award for Best Picture.  This was a surprise only to Golden Globe voters, who awarded Atonement for best drama, Sweeney Todd for best comedy, WALL-E for best robot-related animated feature, and I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry for best slapstick gay-panic shitfest.

Like the rat that jumps onto a burning ship, Ralph Nader announces his candidacy for the U.S. Presidency.  Nader announces that this year’s two-party election is “too exciting”.

MARCH

Russia elects Dmitry Medvedev as its new president.  Nothing actually changes in Russia, however, as former President Vladimir Putin remains in government as Prime Minister.  Russia was forced to make the change due to the efforts of toy manufacturer Hasbro, who wished to have updated questions for Trivial Pursuit Genus 57.

Long-time Green Bay Packer Brett Favre retires.  He spends the rest of the season at home with his family and nothing is heard from him again.

New York Governor Eliot Spitzer resigns after it is found that for several months, he hired a $2000-per-hour prostitute.  The most damaging news comes from the U.S. Court of Consumer Awareness, which charges Spitzer with 65 counts of overpaying.

Presidential candidate Barack Obama’s campaign takes a hit when video leaks of his former pastor, Rev. Jeremiah Wright, sopping his ball sweat with an American flag.  Wright refuses to apologize and even calls the move a patriotic act, bringing attention to Old Glory’s superior powers of absorption.

The U.S. Department of Justice approves a merger between satellite radio companies XM and Sirius.  Thinking it now has a monopoly, the mega-company hikes its rates by 400%, causing all customers to cancel their subscriptions.  Within weeks, XM and Sirius both file for bankruptcy.

APRIL

The war in Iraq continues.  Forgot about it, didn’t you?

For the first time ever, college basketball’s Final Four is composed of all four number-one seeds (North Carolina, UCLA, Memphis, and eventual champion Kansas).  As a result, every office’s tournament pool is won by an employee’s six-year-old child.

Actor Wesley Snipes is jailed for tax evasion.  Just before his appeal, Snipes escapes from prison with the help of Blade co-star Kris Kristofferson.  A week later, the pair resurfaces with the infamous botched assassination attempt of Edgar Winter.

The Olympic torch travels across the world and is protested everywhere it goes.  Most protesters took issue with host country China’s human-rights violations, while one protester simply screamed, “FIRE BAD!”

MAY

Barbara Walters admits to having had an affair with former Massachusetts Senator Edward Brooke.  A day later, Walters admits to simultaneous affairs with Senators Ted Kennedy, Robert Byrd, and Strom Thurmond.  She begins to give explicit details, but is beaten to death by everyone within earshot.

Big Brown wins the Kentucky Derby.  In a post-race interview, Big Brown dedicates his victory to departed friend Barbaro, whose hooves were used to adhere the winning jockey’s visor to his helmet.

The federal government files yet another indictment of Barry Bonds for perjury and general jackassery.  The new indictment comes after video evidence is found of Bonds injecting his biceps with rhino semen.

An earthquake in the Sichuan province of China kills over 69,000 people.  All survivors in the province are arrested for making China look bad so close to the Olympics.

The Phoenix lander arrives on Mars, providing new looks of the Martian surface.  Most surprising is the revelation that even on Mars, Ryan Seacrest has a television show.

JUNE

With a chance to win the Triple Crown for the first time since 1977, Big Brown comes up lame and finishes last in the Belmont Stakes.  Horse-racing enthusiasts allege wrongdoing when they notice that just before the bugle call, Big Brown’s normal jockey is surreptitiously replaced by William “The Refrigerator” Perry.

Senator Barack Obama earns enough delegates to become the presumptive Democratic nominee for President.  In her concession speech, a gracious Hillary Clinton tells her supporters, “Now let’s rally behind this surprisingly eloquent, black Senator, and under no circumstances should you vote for me as a write-in candidate on November 4th.  And remember, Hillary has two Ls.”

Apple releases a new version of the iPhone, called the 3G, for Gloriously Gratuitous Gadget.  While the iPhone’s previous incarnation worked only under Alltel networks in Northern Alabama, the 3G expands its area to all of Alabama and the panhandle of Oklahoma.

George W. Bush visits Europe for the last time as President.  To mimic every American’s European experience, Bush travels by rail with only 50 euros and a pound of weed.

American brewery Anheuser-Busch is bought by InBev, a Belgian distributor.  To assuage the fears of loyal customers, InBev representatives announce that Bud Light “will still have that familiar, crisp, wet-dog flavor that you’ve grown to love.”

Respected journalist Tim Russert dies.  He will be remembered as a long-time host of Meet the Press, but chiefly as the last remaining fan of the Buffalo Bills.

In an 18-hole playoff, a limping, injured Tiger Woods defeats Rocco Mediate to win the U.S. Open.  To rub it in further, Woods plays the entire back nine while blindfolded.

Jim Davis’s popular comic strip, Garfield, celebrates its thirtieth anniversary.  In the anniversary strip, Jon Arbuckle finally shoots himself, leaving the rotund feline to consume his remains.

Bill Gates steps down as CEO of Microsoft, presumably in order to work full-time on his foundation.  Curiously, however, Gates immediately moves to Mobile, Alabama, and purchases an iPhone 3G.

JULY

In a harbinger of economic woes to come, Starbucks closes 600 locations nationwide, forcing many Americans to drive slightly farther for a six-dollar cup of coffee.  To prevent future closings, Starbucks announces that it will forbid locations from having a tip jar and instead round every purchase to the next dollar.

A U.S. court orders Google to divulge the IP addresses of all YouTube viewers to Viacom.  Soon after analyzing the information, Viacom gives the “Chocolate Rain” guy his own show on VH-1.

Sisters Venus and Serena Williams both reach the finals at Wimbledon.  However, the two do not play a match due to their father’s rule that they get along at all times.

In order to help save face in preparation for the Olympics, Chinese officials ban Beijing restaurants from serving dog meat.  No such regulation is levied upon restaurants regarding meat derived from political prisoners.

Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight opens in theatres nationwide, shattering box-office records.  The overwhelming popularity is credited to the fact that Katie Holmes is not in the cast.

AUGUST

Salim Hamdan, Osama Bin Laden’s former driver, is sentenced to 66 months in prison for turning right on a red light.

Detroit Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick jailed.  During his perp walk, Kilpatrick tells reporters, “Don’t worry, Detroit.  This will be far from the worst thing that’ll happen to you this year.”

In an extreme case of Olympic fever, the Russian military attacks Georgia in the region of South Ossetia in an effort to maim or kill Georgia’s top weightlifter.

Swimmer Michael Phelps becomes the first man to win eight gold medals in a single Olympics.  Within hours, Phelps also becomes the strongest argument against getting to know Olympic athletes as people.

Jamaican sprinter Usain Bolt wins gold in the 100-meter dash, shattering his own world record.  Many accuse him of showboating for pulling up at the end of the race, but ignore the sheer rudeness of the Dutchman who won silver while running backward.

The U.S. Olympic basketball team defeats Spain to win its first gold medal since 2000.  Conventional wisdom attributes the win to teamwork and hustle.  This picture is in sharp contrast with the bronze medal-winning team from 2004, which was hampered by on-court knife fights.

Democratic Presidential nominee Barack Obama introduces Delaware Senator Joe Biden as his running mate.  Obama states that Biden was chosen for his experience, candor, and “smokin’ wife”.

Not to be outdone, Republican nominee John McCain announces Alaska Governor and political neophyte Sarah Palin as his running mate.  Republicans consider the move bold, Democrats consider it desperate, and the rest of the country imagines having a threesome with Palin and Tina Fey.

SEPTEMBER

In an interview with Katie Couric, Vice Presidential nominee Sarah Palin shows her political inexperience with an inability to name newspapers.  While Palin is far from polished, many criticize Couric’s journalistic ethics, particularly for her “Abimbosayswhat?” line of questioning.

A high-school kid from Alaska gets invited to the Republican National Convention just for knocking up his girlfriend.

Despite widespread paranoia, scientists in a lair somewhere beneath Geneva power up the Large Hadron Collider.  According to scientists, the machine works wonderfully, smashing particles at such a speed that it creates a miniature black hole, destroying all of Switzerland.  Swiss outside the black hole remain stoic, in agreement that while their home and countrymen may have been destroyed, at least it was for science.

The Dow Jones plunges 777 points in a single day.  Fortunately, nobody knows what that means.

John McCain and Sarah Palin agree to yet another ill-advised interview with Katie Couric.  When questioned about Palin’s qualifications, McCain simply states, “She’s a maverick just like me; that’s all the qualification I need.”  In response, the Obama campaign releases a new slogan: “You can’t have two loose cannons in a buddy movie.  Vote Obama — because even Mel Gibson needed Danny Glover.”

OCTOBER

Former NFL star and probable double-murderer O.J. Simpson is convicted of armed robbery and kidnapping.  At his sentencing, Simpson asks the judge for clemency, stating, “I didn’t know that pointing a gun at people to take back items I had already sold to them was in any way illegal.”  When the judge tells Simpson that he just defined armed robbery, Simpson is heard muttering, “I knew I should have just murdered them.”

The Tampa Devil Rays win the American League pennant by defeating the Boston Red Sox in seven games.  Superstitious types credit the Rays’ victory to ownership’s decision to eliminate the “Bay” from their team name, thus making it geographically accurate.

The Devil Rays’ run comes to an end when they are defeated by the National League champion Philadelphia Phillies in five games.  With nothing else to berate them about, Phillies fans boo their team for not winning the Series in a four-game sweep.

Alaska Senator Ted Stevens is convicted of corruption charges, resulting in jail time.  In prison, the Senator is introduced forcefully to his fellow prisoners in a ritual they nickname “the series of tubes”.

In an effort to distract voters by suddenly adding a minor celebrity to the national consciousness, Senator John McCain invokes the name of “Joe the Plumber”, a man in Ohio who asked Senator Obama a question at a rally.  Rather than analyze the subject of that question, the national press instead finds that “Joe the Plumber” lives in Ohio, isn’t actually a licensed plumber, has outstanding traffic tickets in four states, once contributed $20 to the American Communist Party, and has purchased a handle of Wild Turkey every Wednesday for the past twelve years.

Increasingly desperate, Senator John McCain ramps up his image as a maverick by getting into a public fistfight with his own running mate, Sarah Palin.  The fracas lasts for twenty minutes, as McCain’s entire campaign staff lacked the desire to break it up.

NOVEMBER

Barack Obama wins the Electoral College, making him the 44th President of the United States.  The next day, Senator Hillary Clinton announces her candidacy for President in 2012.

California passes Proposition 8, which outlaws homosexuals from marrying, cohabitating, and composing house music.  The bill’s somewhat surprising passage comes due to overwhelming support from the Mormon Church, which is known for its traditional approach to marriage.

The Calgary Stampeders defeat Montreal Alouettes 22-14 to win the 96th Grey Cup.  The news causes Americans to think, “Holy shit, Canadian football has been around for 96 years?”

President-Elect Obama announces that his pick for the new Secretary of Defense will be current Secretary of Defense Robert Gates.  In Obama’s words, “I’m so tired of choosing people.  Keep Gates… whatever.”

The day after Thanksgiving continues its reign as the biggest shopping day of the year.  Due to economic woes, Black Friday profits are down overall, but on the bright side, only three people are killed.

Radical Islamic terrorists perform coordinated attacks throughout the Indian city of Mumbai.  A spokesman for the terrorists states that their goal was to encourage Bollywood filmmakers to make darker, more violent movies.

DECEMBER

CEOs of the “Big Three” American automakers arrive at Congress in tattered clothes, asking for $50 billion to save the country.  The act does not fool Congress, though, because the executives’ private planes were still parked at the Capitol steps.

The Georgia Senatorial election is forced to a run-off between incumbent Saxby Chambliss and challenger Jim Martin.  The run-off comes due to a law exclusive to Georgia, which has a strict “two victories” requirement for all candidates with silly names.

The Senatorial election in Minnesota also finds no immediate victor, as the race between incumbent Norm Coleman and C-grade comedian Al Franken is too close to call.  Franken initially had no chance in the election until the publication of his vitriolic book, Norm Coleman is a Stupid Poophead Who Will Rape Your Children.

NBC announces that while Conan O’Brien will still inherit the Tonight Show in June 2009, Jay Leno will stay on to host essentially the same show at 10 PM Eastern.  To further strengthen its future stranglehold on obvious, bland humor, NBC cancels its entire lineup and gives daily primetime shows to Tyler Perry and Tony Danza.

To conclude a year riddled with corrupt politicians, Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich lands in hot water when he is recorded attempting to sell Barack Obama’s vacated Senate seat.  Blagojevic avoids legal trouble, however, because “being from Illinois” is considered an absolute defense to charges of corruption.

Iraqi journalist Muntadhar al Zaidi throws his shoes at still-President Bush during a press conference.  The President deftly ducks both shoes, preserving “spryness” as the only remaining positive quality of his presidency.

The Detroit Lions complete the impossible by finishing the 2008 season 0-16, the worst record in NFL history.  Lions quarterback and future Hall-of-Famer Dan Orlovsky credits “a strong desire to be remembered and Jesus” for his legendary play.
————
Phew, that took awhile.  I guess there’s just something about round, fat, even-numbered years.  Nonetheless, I welcome 2009 as (hopefully) the last year we’ll refer to with the words “two thousand”.  Bring it on, two thousand nine.

-Darrell

Hey, remember when I wrote that post awhile back that was just a list of top-five lists?  That was fun.  I should do that again.

TOP FIVE PODCASTS
Ricky Gervais Podcast
The B.S. Report with Bill Simmons
WNYC’s Radio Lab
The Diner
Hey… We’re Back!

TOP FIVE GREAT SONGS WITH ONE GLARING FLAW
Michael Jackson — “The Girl is Mine” — “The doggone girl is mine”
ELO — “Telephone Line” — Jeff Lynne’s strained “okay… so no one’s answering…”
Guns N’ Roses — “Sorry” — Axl’s vampire affectation on “I did not want to do it”
Manfred Mann — “Blinded by the Light” — the part where they play Chopsticks
Velvet Underground — “After Hours” — Maureen Tucker’s flat voice

TOP FIVE ALBUMS OF 2008 I REALLY SHOULD HAVE LISTENED TO BY NOW
TV on the Radio — Dear Science
Of Montreal — Skeletal Vamping
Brian Wilson — That Lucky Old Sun
Brendan Canning — Something for All of Us
Spiritualized — A&E

TOP FIVE PEOPLE WITH WEATHER-RELATED NAMES
Rainn Wilson
Tempest Bledsoe
Hannah Storm
Hurricane McNeely
David Weathers

TOP FIVE MADE-UP PEOPLE WITH WEATHER-RELATED NAMES
Cumulus Jackson
Typhoon Nakamura
Virga Goldberg
Windy Daniels
Bert Haboob

TOP FIVE LEAST SURPRISING SPORTS MOMENTS OF 2008
Pacquiao wallops the Golden Boy
Yankees overpay for Sabathia
Diamondbacks slowly give away the NL West
Texas Tech and Boise State get snubbed by the BCS
Brett Favre turns out to be kind of a jerk

TOP FIVE KIDS IN THE HALL
Dave Foley
Mark McKinney
Bruce McCulloch
Kevin McDonald
Scott Thompson

TOP FIVE PLAYERS WHO SHOULD BE PLAYING FOR THE SUNS RIGHT NOW
Shawn Marion
Rajon Rondo
Rudy Fernandez
Joe Johnson
Kareem Abdul-Jabbar

That’s all for now.  More substantial writings will come later.

-Darrell

Aw, man.  I was going to blog tonight, but then I lost energy.  I decided to check my regular sites, have a drink, and watch some TV.  Then, something happened that snapped me back into shape: Gretchen actually posted something to her blog.  If she’s posting and I’m not, there’s something wrong.  So in honor of a seventeen-below-zero day in Wyoming, here’s a blogpodge for all of you.

Boston Legal ended its run a couple weeks ago.  Only one other person I know watched the show regularly, and that’s a real shame.  It was a fantastic program that was goofy and touching even at its preachiest.  You know a show is outstanding when it can afford to have Candice Bergen and John Larroquette as supporting characters.  This last season, David E. Kelley amped up the bizarre caseload filled with hot-button issues, and he knocked each one out of the park.  I won’t get into details, but the last couple episodes were sappy and ludicrous, but so sweet that it didn’t matter.  If you’ve seen none of the show, get ahold of the DVDs.

While I’m talking about underappreciated shows, you Adult Swim viewers should be bigger fans of Moral Orel.  It’s anti-religious satire wrapped in candy, and I’ll miss it when it’s gone.  Same goes for Pushing Daisies, albeit without the anti-religious satire.

I’ve mentioned enough overtly twee and heartwarming shows.  To offset the mood, allow me to recommend Superjail!  It’s unlike anything I’ve seen; it’s garish, silly, jaunty, and easily the most violent show on television.  Highly recommended.

Wait a second… did the Cardinals just clinch the playoffs?  I think I’m more shocked about this than Obama’s election or the Phillies’ winning the World Series.  What a brave new world, et cetera…

I was wondering about Rorschach tests.  I realize that they’re used mostly to analyze a patient’s personality, but there’s still a part of me that wants it to be used more actively.  It’s absurd, but I like the idea that a person could look at an inkblot and say, “Hey, that blotch looks like the time I got molested oh fuck I forgot that ever happened,” a la Paul F. Tompkins in one of Mr. Show’s finest.  I know, I know, that shouldn’t be funny to me.

While walking around in Tempe, I noticed a date written in permanent ink on the back of a railroad crossing sign.  It said, 11/27/07.  I assume that this denotes when the sign was hung, or perhaps forged.  It occurred to me that this sign just had a birthday — its first birthday.  That day probably passed by without any celebration.  I thought, man, I’d feel really bad right now if signs ate cake.

This has been going on for a long time, but it seems to me that companies are using celebrity voice-overs a lot more these days.  Jack Bauer wants me to take out a loan.  Jim Halpert wants me to buy a phone.  Royal Tenenbaum says that I should be a handyman.  The Dude, some Asshole, and Verbal Kint all have great things to say about automobiles.  I’m not sure, but I think Dr. Cuddy wants me to stop being so sad.  It’s starting to get ridiculous.

Not surprisingly, WWF 24/7 (the on-demand rasslin’ channel) is pretty cool.  Just this evening Adam and I watched some old ECW and WCW.  It was a trip.  Jericho as a face with long hair!  The Dudleys when they were still the Dudleys!  Joey Styles announcing matches!  There were some nice surprises in those old broadcasts.

Hey hey, the Cats beat Gonzaga… and we were the ones who pulled off the upset.  That part still feels weird, but it’s a nice feeling.

I’m going out on a limb here, but this feels like one of those forgettable years in the NFL, like when the Ravens beat the Giants, or when the Bucs beat the Raiders.  I don’t care how dominant the G-men seem this year; it just seems to me like they’ll choke this one away somehow.  Therefore, this is my pre-everything Super Bowl pick: Ravens over Vikings.  A battle of purple teams that nobody cares about, and the less popular team will win.  It just feels right.

Once again, I’m gearing up for the Year in Review.  I should be, since it’s the post that singlehandedly builds up a year’s worth of good will.  I’ve written nothing so far, but I have noticed that every year, there’s one thing that I consider my personal challenge.  Last year, it was writing a tasteful Steve Irwin joke.  This year, I shall attempt to write at least three original Sarah Palin jokes.  She was relevant for only two months, but I think it’s my duty to pile on.

“Below zero blogpodge…?  More like below average blogpodge!”  Ooh, you got me, self.  You’re a real bastard.

-Darrell

Ah, it’s wintertime.  Well, officially, I suppose it’s still autumn, but I live in Arizona, which has only summer and winter.  Once the heat subsides, it’s winter.  More accurately, once the landscape smells like semen, it’s winter.  Some of you think I’m joking.  Others are already nodding silently.

Since junior high, I’ve noticed that come wintertime, a certain tree becomes redolent of spooge.  (It need not be said why I didn’t make the stink-spunk association until adolescence.)  Somehow I figured out that a tree was to blame, but what frustrated me was that I could never pin it on any particular tree.  This was my first clue that a career in botany would not be the best idea.

This week, I was walking in Tempe when that familiar scent invaded my nostrils again.  I had to know what caused the smell.  Thankfully, it took only five minutes of searching on the internet to narrow it down.  All I had to do was type “tree”, “smell”, and “semen”, and let Google do the rest.

It seems that there are two common trees in the United States that release a spermatozoic stench — the Bradford pear tree, of which there aren’t any in my stomping grounds, and this guy: the Ailanthus altissima.  Known as the “tree of heaven” (which makes it just a little more disturbing), our friend Ailanthus is native to China, but is a common street tree across the Americas.  It loves the sun and it thrives on urban pollutants, earning it the nickname, “ghetto palm”.  Considering the ubiquity of the smell in Phoenix, this has to be the culprit.  Tree of heaven, I have found you.

Now, for some low-class, obvious jokes about its descriptions from the Wiki page:

“The tree prefers moist and loamy soils, but is adaptable to a very wide range of soil conditions…” — That pretty much sums up my preference, as well.

“The tree also resprouts vigorously when cut, making its eradication difficult and time consuming.” — That’s because one arboreal ejaculation has over eleven billion sperm.

“Although the live tree tends to have very flexible wood, the wood is quite hard once properly dried.” — No need to touch that one.

“The bark is said to have cooling and astringent properties and is primarily used to treat dysentery, intestinal hemorrhage, menorrhagia and spermatorrhea.” — Spermatorrhea, in case you aren’t familiar, is a condition of excessive, involuntary ejaculation.  So we’re supposed to treat that condition with the jizz tree?

“Anecdotal evidence suggests that the plant may be mildly toxic.” — Yes, but if you water it with pineapple juice, it tastes delicious.

“Ailanthus has been used to re-vegetate areas where acid mine drainage has occurred…”  — Just like… this dick!  Okay, that one makes no sense.

Ahem.

I apologize for dragging down this enlightening, scientific article.  You came here to learn about a tree, and all I did was make sperm jokes.  I have brought shame upon my family.

-Darrell

I almost can’t believe I’m saying this, but this week I watched the Flaming Lips’ long-awaited movie, Christmas on Mars.  I enjoyed it.

I definitely can’t believe I’m saying this, but this week I listened to Guns N’ Roses’ long-awaited album, Chinese Democracy.  I enjoyed it.

I said to myself, “at long last,” twice in a month.

Christmas on Mars came after a seven-year wait.  In 2001, the Lips announced that they were working on a trippy, spacey, feature-length film that promised to be equal parts Kubrick, Lynch, and Capra.  It involved Wayne Coyne looking like a Martian, so it had to be good.  Since 2001, they’ve released two albums and gone on several tours.  All the while, the faithful wondered, “Hey, what happened to that movie they promised?”  So much time passed that a lot of people convinced themselves that the whole thing was an elaborate hoax; Wayne was, intentionally or not, simply playing a joke on all of us.  Turns out, the band was just busy.  Soon enough, Wayne finished his strange vision and all became right with the world.

Chinese Democracy came after a fourteen-year wait.  In 1994, Axl announced that he had begun work on new songs and that the next album would be called Chinese Democracy.  By this time, the band was beginning to splinter.  One by one, original members dropped out, leaving the faithful to wonder, “Hey, what happened to that new album they promised?”  So much time passed that it became a common joke to suggest that democracy would actually come to China before Axl completes the album.  Fourteen years of breakups and new hires later, Axl Rose’s band, which he still calls Guns N’ Roses, completed the unthinkable, and all became right with the world.

This is one hell of a confluence of events.  If you still don’t appreciate the coincidence, consider this: in the DVD extras of Christmas on Mars, Wayne is asked whether he was bothered by comparisons to GNR’s Chinese Democracy.  He found it amusing, asking at the end, “has it come out yet?”  It hadn’t when he did the interview, but I watched him say those words the very week it did.

I’m rambling; this post is about more than mere coincidence.  I got to thinking about Christmas on Mars and Chinese Democracy, and why it can take so long to do something that, at its heart, is pretty mundane.  Yes, both the movie and the album are unique, wonderful, innovative artistic expressions, and I highly recommend that everyone experience them multiple times.  But really, it’s just a trippy sci-fi movie and rock-your-ass-off album.  What took so long?

Of course, it’s not that it took seven/fourteen years of actual work to get the movie/album done.  Wayne himself said that it wasn’t like a Tibetan monk adding a single grain of sand each day to a puzzle on a mountaintop (his words); it was just that whole months would go by without anyone paying attention to the project.  I’m sure if Axl were more candid with the public, he’d tell a similar story.  Except, instead of “we were busy touring and making albums”, Axl would say something like, “I was busy alienating my band, finding a new one, then alienating the new band.”

I suppose what impresses me is how Wayne and Axl stuck with it after losing touch with the work so many times after so many years.  They both had a vision for something special, and once circumstances finally made it possible, they completed it.  I find that astounding.  I have so many unfinished novellas, screenplays, and skyscraper blueprints, it’s embarrassing.  For all of them, once I lost focus on them, they were gone.

Before this week, I don’t know if I could have told you what makes a great artist.  I probably would have droned hazily about talent, or maybe I would have mentioned a unique ability to communicate.  Now I know — a true artist is one who can see his vision through to the end, no matter how long it takes.  Whether it takes the Lips’ seven years, Axl’s fourteen, or Brian Wilson’s thirty-five, what matters is commitment.

-Darrell