Happy Birthday C4tS!

Happy Birthday, old man! I'll get the walker and reading glasses ready.

Kicks?

I'm thinking about getting these shoes. Are Campers lame? What do you think? What do you think Tim Gunn would think?

what are they smoking at the dc court of appeals?

would YOU give marion barry a gun? wtf?

Grand Ole Party

So, with the field of GOP hopefuls looking about as presidential as a fresh turd with a "Support the Troops" bumper sticker on it, now comes word of a new movement afoot. A brigade of lobotomized zombies hopes to draft Fred Thompson--former Senator from Tennessee, and, more important, Jack McCoy's boss over at Law and Order (jobs, by the way, which at one point he held simultaneously)--into making a quixotic stab at Bush's LaZBoy. The actor-cum- statesman-cum-irrelevant-lunatic fled Washington a couple of years back, frustrated by all the pork barrel spending, which, it should be noted, inspires no argument here. My feelings about the fruit of the swine are well-documented in these pages, but seriously, a grassroots movement for the guy from Aces: Iron Eagle III? This must be the hubris born of winning a fictional election for Manhattan District Attorney in spite of a Tennesse drawl.

So, now, let's recap. Here're your other hopefuls:

• There's the guy who fought terrorism by looking at the burning embers of the World Trade Center in front of television cameras on September 11th;
  
• The decrepit guy whose face looks like its melting off in slow motion--the same one who's hoping that primary voters in South Carolina have forgotten he adopted a brown baby;
• The gay-loving Mormon: fabulous and decaffeinated;
  
• The dude who wants to be President because he thinks the guy mowing his lawn's plotting to kill his grandchildren;
  
• The Ferris Bueller of the United States Senate;
  
• The guy who fought a savage war against Bill Clinton for favors received from Monica Lewinsky while cotemporaneously receiving the very same favors from his own mistress;
• And the dude who refuses to pay $667 in back taxes on a house some lobbyist bought him in exchange for his soul.
  
• Oh, and probably Chuck Hagel, but Cheney'll off him soon--a little scattershot to the face maybe because, you know, Hagel hasn't had enough of that.

So, that's it, Mr. Gore. Go get 'em.

Quote of the Day

"Life is fair. Some people have talent. Others get prizes." -- Julie Phillips, quoting the subject of her own National Book Critics Circle award-winning biography, science fiction writer Alice B. Sheldon, at yesterday's NBCC Awards.

we're gonna have pun tonight

most of my friends know that there is nothing i love more than a clever headline. not in the jay leno kind of way that makes one squeamish, i swear. some unforgettable ones:

1) KING OF SWING - ny post, the day saddam was executed
2) ROASTED NUTS - trenton trentonian, mind-boggling!
3) usher says "yeah!" to mtv movie - pretty self-explanatory
4) gimpy gal sues MTA - ny post, disabled woman sues MTA alleging they failed to hire her because she was wheel-chair bound

but gawker, once again, blew my mind in this lance bass related post. who are these people? i must befriend them, stat. some highlights:
A Life Lived Bass Ackwards
Lance: from Lame to Lamé
Stop Calling me Ellen
Basstronaut: If I Did It (Ghost written by OJ Simpson ghost written by James Frey)
Are You There Lou Pearlman? It's Me, Lance
Sorry, Gays, I Know You Wanted It To Be Justin

I Still Want a Huuuuuuuula Hoop

So, in the Oscars - Live Blog I wondered aloud who might be cast in a live-action, all-female version of Alvin and the Chipmunks. Answer: Maggie Gyllenhaal as Alvin, Reese Witherspoon as Theodore, rest to be determined. Anyway, that was just me musing aloud (atype? ablog?), just bullshitting about something that wouldn't come to pass, right? Not even the criminally incompetent, the imaginationally impaired czars of a Hollywood studio would greenlight that kind of crap, you say? Well, you're only half-right. Apparently, there will be a live-action (cgi-supplemented) Chipmunks movie coming out this Christmas--though not a gender-bending one, sadly. Banky/Brodie from the Kevin Smith movies (apparently, a television star now?) is going to play emotionally abusive, PETA-hating record-producer/slavedriver/profiteer Dave Seville--hopefully as some sort of cross between Phil Spector and Bob Saget. Meanwhile, enjoy the oldie but goldie below...

-Chipmunks Christmas song.mp3

She's Not. That. Innocent.

This is from today's New York Times piece about the Harry Potter-Equus thing--which, I know, is old news:

To make it clear what audiences are in for, at least in part, photographs of Mr. Radcliffe’s buff torso, stripped almost to the groin, have been used to advertise the production. It is as jarring as if, say, Anne Hathaway suddenly announced that instead of playing sweet-natured princesses and fashion-world ingénues, she wanted to appear onstage as a nude, murderous prostitute.

Umm no. That wouldn't be jarring at all, dumbass, as any of the bajillion people who saw Brokeback knows. In that film and in another one as well she goes topless. Bill Keller needs to get Sewell Chan to start writing for Arts & Leisure because that joint is falling apart. That, or make sure the fact-checkers' blow isn't being cut with Arm & Hammer.

stop making sense - part 2 : Grody to the Max Edition

Blogger E, Usually I would just comment on your post, but I found it so interesting that I am inspired to post in response. You see, I have been waging a long and arduous linguistic battle myself, though this one with hipsters, taste-makers, cultural elites--you know, the bourgeoisie. As our silent partner sugarpockets knows, what I want is to reinfuse our common idiom with my favorite phrase/exclamation of the 1980's: "Grody to the max!!!" Much to my chagrin though, this campaign has been in vain. I had expected to find my cause championed by the likes of Noam Chomsky and William Buckley, but no such luck. So, here's to you, Punky Brewster (pictured). You might have grown into a fetching and buxom young woman (pictured), but in my heart, you will always be the cute, befreckled kid with the mismatched socks whose friend accidentally got locked in a refrigerator. Next time I see a rat crawling on the subway platform at East Broadway, in your honor I will proclaim, "Grody to the max!!!"

stop making sense - part 1

business terms and phrases i've learned to despise:
1) anything involving "circle," e.g., "let me circle up with my team and get back to you," "we'll circle back and let you know."
2) "bandwidth," when people mean capacity

vast right-wing conspiracy

scene: 3 olds in the cafeteria at work. i'd say they were born circa-johnson (andrew, not lyndon)

old 1: did you hear scooter libby may go to jail?
old 2: i wish they'd send hilary instead.
chorus of olds chortling.

Televising the Revolution

You will remember Ludacris and 50 Cent's dust-up with Oprah last year, but in case you forgot, here's a reminder: After appearing on her show to promote Crash, Luda told GQ, "What I got was that by having rappers on her show, she feels like she is empowering in them..I don't see why Chris Rock and Dave Chappelle, who I am huge fans of, it's OK for them to go on Oprah. They speak the same language as I do, but they do it through comedy, so I guess that's acceptable to her." Now, Luda--whose lyrics, granted, are insanely misogynistic--did have a point: Why the free pass for the non-corn-rowed comedians? Why the total absence of any MC's on the Oprah show?

Well, that moment seemed to pass, but now comes word that Wynton Marsalis (pictured, err, depicted) also hates hip hop, except, unlike back-pedaling Oprah, he's not equivocating. This is the salient bit from his recent interview with the Guardian:

Old school minstrels used to say they were 'real darkies from the real plantation'. Hip-hop substitutes the plantation for the streets. Now you have to say that you're from the streets, you shot some brothers, you went to jail. Rappers have to display the correct pathology. Rap has become a safari for people who get their thrills from watching African-American people debase themselves, men dressing in gold, calling themselves stupid names like Ludacris or 50 Cent, spending money on expensive fluff, using language like 'bitch' and 'ho' and 'nigger.'

It's clear that there are generational and class divisions at work here, and far be it from me to opine about an issue that goes to the heart of contemporary black American society, being that, well, I'm not black, but still why is it that Marsalis, Oprah, Bill O'Reilly and others seem to think the paragons, the torch-bearers, of an entire genre of music--an entire aesthetic, an entire culture (not subculture, mind you)--are its worst offenders?

Okay, that's a rhetorical question. I can imagine what Nelly's album sales look like when compared to Jurassic 5's, but once, just once, I'd like to hear what universally renowned musical geniuses like Wynton Marsalis have to say about Mos Def's Black on Both Sides or Tribe's Low-End Theory or anything Viktor Vaughn's released. Hip hop may include all of the things that Marsalis hates it for--all of the things that I too hate about it--but, still, I know I'm not alone when I say, it's the greatest artistic invention of our lifetime.

In that spirit, and in honor of today's news that Scooter Libby is likely jail-bound, I give you Akon and Styles P's "Locked Up," which includes this gem, "Locked up, they won't let me out/ And I had a long day in court. Shit stressed me out."

sports cap

this "play" magazine that the times sometimes slips into my sunday paper seems to be the print equivalent of a non-sequitur. wtf? i decided to flip through it this morning before i get to the heavy stuff, e.g., sunday styles, the city, coupons.

there was this article fawning over marv albert. now, as i indicated in a previous post, nothing in sports past june 14, 1994 interests me, so of course i read this. ah, i remember those lazy saturday mornings marked by that john tesh-composed nba on nbc theme. marv, you will never be a man in panties who likes to bite women to me.

on a related note, some of you know that i had to make a mad dash to the border last week for no good reason. at the toronto airport i ran into freaking PAT QUINN, aka my childhood idol and two-time coach of the year winner. i sort of gushed, "i am a big fan of yours." he looked a little taken aback and muttered something resembling a thank you. then i came home, googled him and found this. learns me to stop paying attention to sports.

if you've made it this far, here is your reward: i am going to eat your family.

You Are Coming to a Sad Realization. Cancel or Allow?

Richie Valens died at 17. Buddy Holly at 22. James Dean at 24. John Keats at 25. Otis Redding at 26. Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin at 28. And Percy Bysshe Kelley at 29. With my own 29th birthday fast approaching, I find myself--a little lighter of pate, a little heavier of paunch--in a brooding mood.

No, I haven't a death wish. It's just that I had planned to do a lot in my 20's. To be specific, I had planned to write a great novel and liberate myself from the workaday life, but yet I languish in writer's lethargy, only occasionally considering my scraps of a first chapter, which I have been revisiting for years now. Chapter Two of this book, a sin-soaked, South-Asian-American bildungsroman about a school-teacher in New York, exactly the kind of work that wins you Michiko Kakutani's favor, is as far off as ever. And now comes the following disheartening news: Uzodinma Iweala (pictured), whose mom worked in the same place my dad worked (but in a higher position), who went to the same tiny high school I did (but then went to a better college), who is four years my junior, and who published his debut novel in 2005, has just been named one of Granta's best young American novelists. I've never met the guy, and the only thing of his I've read was in the New Yorker a little while back, but still I seethe with the most malignant form of jealousy

Yet, sadly, jealousy, that lazy bitch, doesn't spur me to action.

So, with my 29th birthday--my 30th year on Earth--descending upon me, ton-of-bricks style, I promise you this, singular reader: a great work of fiction...sometime in my 30's.

Brokeback Odds and Ends

So, I was looking for some information about when Feist's new album comes out, and I came across this home-made video, which is awesome.(The embed function is not working properly, I am sorry to say.) It sets Feist's "Secret Heart" to scenes from Brokeback. Also, in related news, despite all the good will that Marky Mark had earned in my heart with his post-Planet of the Apes redemption in The Departed, he's actually just a homophobic ass.