Music Video of the Day: Joey Potter's Douchey Worthington College Boyfriend Plays Cheap Trick

For some months now, I've been bemoaning my lack of musical talent to any and all who would listen. Any and all in this case is a list of one: blog devote Thumbu Sammy. I told him I should take up an instrument, perhaps the guitar, and last weekend whilst I was skulking about Brookline and Cambridge with Sugarpockets, E, occasional reader A. Frances, and others, Thumbu, who was house-sitting for us, procured a guitar and deposited it in our living room. Veritable gauntlet, dropped. I am so used to my empty threats going ignored, I am not sure what to do with wide-eyed idealist Thumbu's faith in me. Will I finally make amends for those tortured four years from 4th to 8th Grade in which my father forced me to play the violin? Will I follow through on my half-formed ideas about taking up new hobbies? The jury is still out.

But today, I made peace with the fact that my taking up acoustic guitar--in whatever lazy form or fashion--does not mean I share company with that douche nozzle half-assedly playing Cheap Trick songs on West Quad--you know the one, leaning super cazh against that garbage can that really drunk freshman girl threw up in after the Carolina game in '97, the one right in front of the Bryan Center Walkway, right below Joey Potter's dorm room. (See above). No, thanks to Thumbu I learned to play -- more or less -- four notes from "Wild Thing." And I felt like a fucking genius of rock and roll. I felt like these guys. Motherfucking Extreme! Motherfucking Nuno Bettencourt, in tube socks and shorts and combat boots. That's what I felt like. And it felt good.

Thanks, Thumbu. Safe travels back to Detroit Rock City. The Bay will miss you.

90's4Life.

Bin Laden Didn't Blow Up the Projects, Tell the Truth, Ninja

Remember when Chris Rock made that joke about how weird it is that the best golfer in the world is black, and that the best rapper in the world is white? Yeah, me either. Anyway, he did. Then Tiger Woods decided to throw everyone's African American Studies 101 paper into a disrepute and point out that he identifies no more with black culture than with his Chinese or Thai roots, to say nothing of the splash of Native American and Dutch he has in him. And now the other shoe has dropped. Actually, it dropped when Eminem rapped the following Proustian cerebral outburst, Shady Records was 80 seconds away from the towers. Some cowards fucked with the wrong building, they meant to hit ours...But for real, sons, it has dropped: Above, Eminem attempts at pop cultural and zeitgeisty relevance with his new video (Sarah Palin is a sexy hypocrite!) and his Final Four celebration(?)/maudlin and simultaneously saccharine carnival of Detroitsplatation. (Dudes, why has no one, preferably some effete Europeans done a shocking photo expose of blight in Detroit that we can all post on our Facebook pages?!).

The point is, I was overdue for a blog post and Eminem is the worst. Also, he looks like Psycho T's slightly more cavernous-headed brother. Congratulations, UNC! When you're done celebrating your deserved win, can you remind your vicious fan base to post some more videos reminding me I and my ilk are a bunch of gay-ass homos. Just kidding. America's team! Obama! Change! Freedom Fries! Keep our troops in Iraq. 9-11. Never forget.

Lemon, out.

Sadness, Baby!

UNC 101, Duke 87.

Psycho T Smells What Barack's Got Cooking

So much can be gleaned from the picture above--most important, the press corps does seem to harbor an indefatigable love of America's Sweetheart and secret Muslim-in-Chief, Barack Obama. According to the New York Times, during Obama's pick-up game against the Tar Heels this morning he didn't manage to score, and in the picture above we see him, having driven through the lane (past what looks like a lazing Danny Green, who's got to be worried about his draft stock now, I'm thinking), jump just a few feet from the basket to shoot, as National Player of the Year Tyler Hansbrough's outstretched arms greet him. Now, we can assume that Hansbrough--although he is not known for his blocking skills--probably rejected the shit out of Obama in the moment immediately after this shot was taken. I mean we know for a fact that he didn't score. And in the subsequent moment, after the likely vicious block, surely Obama's crumpled frame fell to the floor as he gasped for air through his charred lungs, and Psycho T probably huffed and puffed over him--white middle class voter that he is. Where are these photographs that I have described? Why were they not taken? Why do we see Obama only in a state of beatific, lane-slashing glory, his eyes a-gleam with hope. Why do we not see the aftermath? Why does the media go to such lengths to preserve this man's image? Also, sidenote: how much does Psycho T hate Obama? Apparently, they were supposed to be playing on the same team.

None of this would have happened, had Obama's bodyman (think Charlie from The West Wing) and member of Duke's 2001 national championship team, Reggie Love, taken Obama and his pick-up game to Cameron, home of the elitist Duke Blue Devils--although Krzyzewski might have yelled at him about capital gains taxes or something.

Duke 89, Carolina 78

So, John Edwards is back on the scene (a little Where's Waldo?, but see above). But since he got his ass handed to him again, he'll probably go back underground. Unlike last time though, I'm not exactly torn up about his most recent loss because the team I support is vastly superior to the team he supports! Also, check out Gerald Henderson's sick block on Hansbrough. This time it was all ball and no nose. Go team! Sports are very good! Indeed!