Kate Hit, Remembered

The death of Katharine Hepburn, for most of us, meant a day of quiet reflection and mourning. For Pulitzer Prize winner A. Scott Berg, however, it meant a day to crook his arm and pull his fist back while making a noise like that of a cash register. His book Kate Remembered, which was finished in 1999 and sat in a vault counting the days until Berg's "friend" of 20 years Katharine Hepburn died, has just come out and is revealing quite a lot about the private life of this movie icon.

This article at CBS News gives the lowdown on the book and includes the following passage, which caught my eye for reasons that will become plainly obvious to you after you read it:

    Berg writes that there was one big reason why Tracy and Hepburn never married besides Tracy's Catholicism, his guilt over his son's deafness and his wife's refusal to divorce him:

    "I never wanted to marry Spencer Tracy," she told Berg...

Berg should have included the whole quote, however, and I'm hoping that the misquote-catching folks over at Spinsanity give him what for. Here's the quote in its entirety:

    "I never wanted to marry Spencer Tracy because of his Catholicism, his guilt over his son's deafness and his wife's refusal to divorce him. Also, he was an abusive drunk who liked to backhand me in public. Plus, I have vaginal warts. Please don't tell anyone any of this, A. Scott Berg."

There are two things that I found incredibly interesting about Berg's book:

    1) Hearing Berg on NPR was how I found out that Hepburn died like two weeks ago.

    2) In researching this piece, I was reminded that Gregory Peck just died.

After I continued to dig, I found out that a book similar to Berg's Kate Remembered, but about Gregory Peck, had been released shortly after his death. It's called Greg: Finally Dead, So Here's The Book, and it was written by none other than famous movie actor Gregory Peck.

There were a few Katharine-Hepburn-level revelations in the Peck book. Among them:

    Gregory Peck, toward the end of his life, used to go to the grocery store sometimes as often as twice a week, just to have something to do.

    On the set of How the West Was Won, Spencer Tracy once gave Gregory Peck a dirty look, but it turned out that Tracy had just eaten something very sour.

    Peck used to mow A. Scott Berg's a. front yard in an effort to convince Berg to write a book about him. It didn't work, but Berg had the worst looking yard on the whole block.

    Peck originally died in 1998, but decided to try it again when his first death failed to make a splash.

    Gregory Peck was not gay or anything.

    On the set of To Kill A Mockingbird, Robert Duvall and Gregory Peck became close friends.

Whoa! Let's keep it clean, Peck!

rock 'n' roll & news parody: both found dead. nation mourns, does not actually mourn.

Sorry for the light week this week. Two friends of mine both moved away this week (today specifically) which has meant a lot of staying-out-too-late and drinking-too-much. I've gone to more bars this week than I otherwise would have. Let's just put it that way, okay?

Also, I don't want to burn myself out before I take over blogging duties at Neal Pollack's site next week while he's on tour.

That all said, I've just got a few things to mention.



Rolling Stone takes on Canada's poor math skills.
Rock and roll apparently already successfully destroyed.

Thanks to Paul Serilla (currently piloting Whatevs) for mentioning a RollingStone.com contest whereby some lucky person can win a trip to New York to see the Strokes appear on Conan O'Brien's program. I entered the contest, partly because I do - no matter how uncool it is or how full of it they are - like the Strokes. Also I really like Conan O'Brien (now finally on at 12:30 in Detroit!), and I've seen his show before and it was a blast.

Anyway, as I was clicking through the rules, I found an interesting passage. It turns out that if a Canadian wins, things get a little more complicated:

    Canadian residents selected as winners will be required to successfully answer a time-limited, unaided, mathematical skill-based question prior to being awarded a prize, and failure to successfully answer the question will cause the prize to be forfeited and awarded to an alternate winner.

That's no-fooling straight from the rules. Can anyone explain this to me? I mean, I know as much as the next guy that Canadians have been getting a free ride for far too long and have simply relied on their American neighbors for arithmetic help, but why is this the proper venue for setting things straight? Do you think the Strokes added this rule? It would be so like them.

Or maybe this is a really common thing and I'm just an idiot. Someone set me straight.

happy birthday us

Two years ago, four brave men set out on a journey so daring, so grand and so wonderful that words can express neither the heroism of these wonderful men nor our debt to them.

I'm of course talking about myself and the other Editors (Matthew Tobey, Dennis Proctor, and Sam Forsyth) of Haypenny.com.

On October 1, 2001, the world got its first look at a Haypenny Feature. My Feature from that very first Issue, though not as good as something I might write today, still fills me with sorrow and regret - just like it did lo those many years ago.

I know I keep repeating it, but I think it's necessary that people understand since we started having Dailies (on October 15, 2001 - Daily Archive), we have never missed a weekday. Ever! Can any other site say that? No!

Here's a little-known fact about Haypenny: It was supposed to go live on September 1, 2001, but we Editors decided that we'd better wait, what with 9/11 about to happen and all. It's a fact!

Anyway, to honor myself and to justify some light blogging this week, I've penned a letter to the readers of Haypenny that you all can read too.


Also, don't forget that next week I'll be guest-blogging for Neal Pollack while he's on tour. Donnie Boman (from Left Pedal) is over there now doing a fine job. After me it'll be Monks, Popp, and then Tobey. Rock on.

Personal stuff

There's a new Issue of Haypenny up today. On Wednesday, Haypenny will celebrate its two year anniversary. Or birthday. Whichever it is that websites celebrate. The point is that we've been kicking for two years, and that's pretty amazing. We've posted over 500 Dailies and over 270 Features. I did a site summary yesterday and found out that we have over 1,000 pages in our web, over 20,000 hyperlinks in our web, over 700 images - just staggering numbers if you ask me. Haypenny kicks maximum ass. It's too bad that I absolutely despise doing the updates on Sunday nights.

Anyway, here's to two more. (raises glass)

On Friday, my band Havilland will be rocking Jimmy's Sports Rock over on Detroit's upper east side. You should go.

Next week I'll be guest blogging for Neal Pollack. (October 6-10. Don't forget.)

And then later on this month, my band Havilland will be opening up for Neal Pollack and Jim Roll at the Blind Pig in Ann Arbor. Check out Neal's tour info here.

Dan Kennedy is also on tour. Go see him.

My good friend Jeremy (of La Beta Corpo fame) is in town before he moves to Brazil. We got to hang out on Saturday night and we had a pretty alright time, though he left his jacket over here. Anyway, we're glad to have him.

Finally, I saw Lost in Translation Friday (official site) and I have a few things to say about it.

First of all, it's a fine movie. I'm sure that's not news to any of you who've read reviews of it. That Sofia Coppola is something else. If you haven't seen this yet, I'm not sure what you're waiting for, but I want to talk to you about it, so you should go see it soon.

But what I really want to say is this: I thought Scarlett Johansson was hot way back in the Horse Whisperer. Actually, she was in a YM or Seventeen magazine for promotion just after the film had come out and she was hot in those pictures. Anyway, I called it. I win. I'm the winner.

I'm a winner.

we believe in very little

Apparently, Elton John is a minimalist.

"Singer" Elton John has decided to sell all of the contents of his London home according to a Yahoo! News piece. It seems that the Great Pink Knight wants to experiment with minimalism after living a life of opulence and excess. I thank God everyday that I haven't been burdened with "possessions" and "fame" - that I have the opportunity to live a simple, thankless, terrible existence, and that I will be forgotten almost instantly after I die.

The contents of the estate will go up for auction (handled by Sotheby's) on September 30, and they estimate that the whole lot should bring in about £800,000 ($1.2 million). Nothing says "minimalism" like going liquid for over $1 million on a Tuesday morning by selling all of your assets at prices that I can only imagine are fairly low.

So why is Sir Elton John, Knight of the Upside-Down Triangular Table, doing this? Good question. Here's another good question: is there even a slight chance that he's not somehow bankrupt?


In other "music" news, Jeremy at La Beta Corpo (blog) links to this neat piece in the East Bay Express, which is some sort of periodical. Here's the experiment: take a classroom full of fifth graders and make them draw while they listen to Radiohead. What do you get? Strange shit.

A couple (like the one to the left) depict "hell" scenarios. (The booth in the center reads "Free Suicides" - that's right: free. This kid is clearly a communist. He needs to be stopped immediately.) Others seemed to react to the melancholy and sometimes somber tone of the music. One girl says the music is about "bummed out dolphins," which means she either

    A) totally got it,
    B) thought she was listening to Live (whose songs really are just about bummed out dolphins), or
    C) was going to draw dolphins no matter what music was on.

Regardless, the experiment is interesting and some of these children require, I think, immediate psychological attention. So do all the Radiohead fans that don't realize that elementary school teachers are Radiohead fans now. Pretty alternative, eh?


Lastly, Jeremy from La Beta Corpo (blog) also gave me a link to an article on Salon that does a much better job of saying what I was trying to say yesterday. Jeremy didn't phrase it that way, but I will. It's a great piece. I don't read Salon enough, because I hate having to do that day pass thing. Just like how I don't visit NYtimes.com because I hate logging in.

Anyway, from that Salon piece, I found Iraq Today, which is calling itself the "Independent Voice of Iraq." I read this article: Basrah Moves Towards Religious Stability.

We are nihilists, We believe in nothing

The other day, I was surfing the web, as I am wont to do, and I discovered some fairly interesting (if by interesting I mean either actually interesting or easy to make fun of) sites that I thought I'd share with you, my loyal following.

My adventures started over at left pedal, run with grace and cunning by the keen Donnie Boman. While reading Donnie's witicisms, I glanced over at his links list to make sure that WWKAD? was properly represented. It was. So I looked around a bit and saw a link that read "The Situation Room" and decided to click on it.

I really didn't read a whole lot of the site, but I did a lot of clicking. Some of it pleased me and some of it did not. This is nobody's fault but my own, and I understand this completely. This should be considered neither praise for nor an indictment of this website, but rather a collection of web oddities that I happened to find all at the same place. Understood? Great.



Classic rock music videos in ASCII. Pretty cool.
I'd like to see some contemporary videos.



A collection of subversive posters that almost all miss the point from Wake The World.

I would never try to suggest that I am currently or that I ever was completely satisfied with the administration's argument for/handling of the war in Iraq, but I have to admit that I'm very, very far away from getting illogically angry about non-issues. Look, for better or worse, I'm glad to be rid of Saddam Hussein, and I believe (if Christopher Hitchens is worth his salt, which I'd bet he is) that many people in Iraq - and in the Muslim community - are glad to be rid of him. Does the end justify the means? No, of course not, which is exactly why we'll elect someone else in November of 2004 and hurriedly purge ourselves of the Patriot Act and all the other filth this administration will have left behind. That said, who gives this much of a shit? Not me.

The first poster reminds me too much of the WW2 propaganda posters, coffee table books about which probably exist in most of our homes. Why is it that we can look at these old propaganda posters and laugh at their naivety, but the dillweed who designed this "Fashion 2003" (which by the way is a terribly lame title) poster thinks he's just written the next Doonesbury?

And the second poster: Nothing says "I... uh... I'm not really sure... uh... what I believe... in..." like this poorly-kerned (and, as far as I'm concerned, therefore poorly designed) nonsense palindrome!

    If this one doesn't tickle your fancy, try our "Rise To Vote, Sir!" poster where the word "Sir" looks like it's made out of ice cream!

And to ignore the ambiguous pronoun answer the question of the third poster (which thoughtfully asks "Why isn't it called Terrorism when it's committed by the United States?"): because they're different things. They have different purposes and are carried out in different ways. Let's not forget that the United States didn't invent war. We're not the ones who codified it.

The only good poster of the whole bunch (that I saw, that is; I stopped looking after I'd found enough to make fun of) was the one that The Situation Room had displayed (I should have just stayed there).

It looks good. It's funny. It's not decidedly idealistic, but it's smart enough to know that. In fact, if you added breasts to this poster, I'd marry it.

So Much For The Protestant Work Ethic

Without internet access at home (including no phone line for dial up--it was supposed to have been installed yesterday) and an ever increasing feeling among my boss and my coworkers that I ought to be getting stuff done, it's become very hard for me to blog a lot lately, and I super apologize.

And I know we're all shook up over the David Kelly suicide thing, and the realization that Laci Peterson probably killed herself too and that one woman probably raped herself, but I have no choice but to post fewer posts this week. So sorry.

In the meantime, check out:

City of Floating Blogs
Life and Times of Deckie Holmes
Jesse Popp
I Am The Stallion
Left Pedal
Utter Wonder

...and all of the other sites I've linked so far.

Thanks.

So, Wait... This Thing Answers Questions, Right?

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

I Knew That George Tenet Was Keyser Soze The Whole Time; I Swear!

As many of us already know, CIA Director George Tenet claimed that he was responsible for President Bush’s inclusion in his State of the Union address this January of bogus information regarding Iraq’s planned purchase of uranium from uranium powerhouse Niger. The CIA is the last line of defense against warmongering psychos who try to include made-up intelligence into otherwise overly-emotional and underly-logical speeches of national importance.

Because of this statement by Tenet, many Americans are learning for the first time about this seemingly-complicated system of checks. In essence, however, the system is quite simple:

    1) Speechwriters make up facts.
    2) Someone pretends to present those facts to the CIA.
    3) The CIA pretends to check their accuracy.
    4) Condaleeza Rice goes on TV and dodges the real issue—which is whether the President knowingly included unreliable “intelligence” in a speech whose purpose was to pump up the American people and make a case for war against Iraq—by claiming that the veracity of one particular comment would have neither made nor broken the need for war.

But what many Americans aren’t hearing is that, in the same statement, George Tenet also took responsibility for a host of other Presidential gaffes, most of it not even related to the State of the Union speech. Here are just a few examples:

“I told him to pronounce it nuke-ya-lur.”


In one of the most surprising revelations made by the former Russian spy, Tenet has taken full responsibility for the President’s chronic mispronunciation of nuclear. Tenet said that he was motivated by jealousy, stupidity, disrespect for the president, and a complete lack of concern for the American people.

“I taught President Bush to smirk.”


Tenet continues: “Specifically, I forced him, through blackmail and threats of violence, to make light of the prospect of war and to smirk as much as possible at the conference in the Azores with British Prime Minister Tony Blair, making it appear to the discerning viewer that the thought of sending young men and women off to die in a war did not bother—or even delighted—the President.”

“I’m the one who fell off of that Segway.”


Aha! It was George Tenet who fell off of that Segway last month. Tenet explains: “The Segway is a wonderfully designed machine, and it is nearly impossible to fall of a Segway, but I, with my persistent inner-ear problems, clumsiness, foolishness, and disdain for any form of transportation that doesn’t guzzle gasoline and make oil tycoons richer, managed to lose my balance and fall like a moron to the ground. I hate America.”

“I lied to the American people about a lot of other stuff too.”


George Tenet, it turns out, “willfully and purposefully made statements that [he] knew to be false to rally support for a war against Iraq and, in bad faith, manipulated American public opinion for [his] own personal, political and financial benefit and to draw attention away from more important domestic problems, like a sluggish economy and low consumer confidence, which [he is] completely incapable of handling.” Tenet went on to say that he “should never have been elected,” and that he “should be impeached immediately.”

Matthew Tobey

Matthew Tobey, Neal Pollack's guest-blogger for the past two weeks and golden god from City of Floating Blogs, has been mentioning What Would Kofi Annan Do? left and right. It just goes to show that Matthew Tobey is a genius.

Also, J. Daniel Janzen has a great article about Euchre up over at Flak. As a Michigander, I've played my share of Euchre, and Janzen's article makes me want to play more. Janzen also has a Feature in the current Issue of Haypenny, which you should have already read by now.

Colleen Haskell is a Flower: A Flower Who'd Better Have Some Good Bodyguards

I'm sure we all remember Colleen Haskell from the first season of CBS's Survivor program. But how many of us are stalking her? More than you'd think.

Just for fun this morning I decided to do a little web work and find out just what's become of America's summer camp girlfriend from Summer 2000. It turns out that she's not up to a whole lot, but, while searching, I did find a couple of funny/creepy/cause-for-alarm-on-the-part-of-Haskell things that I think are worth mentioning.

The first is the following dedication from colleen-a-flower.com that asserts that Colleen Haskell is, well, a flower. I think Yoda registered the domain, though.

        This site is dedicated to the lovely former
        Survivor castaway, Colleen Haskell. She is
        a beautiful woman, yes. But she is much
        more than just that; she has the most joyful,
        genuine, charming personality that I have
        ever seen anyone have. She is simply
        entrancing to watch. Her glowing smile is
        brighter than the clearest diamond. Just the
        sound of her voice can make me smile.
        Colleen is as elegant and graceful as...
        a flower.

Notice the effective use of ellipses there. "Colleen's a what? She's a what? Tell me!!" Now I'm not saying that Colleen ain't easy on the eyes, but this guy is very, very--and very hilariously--sad.

And then there's this, from this nameless fan site:

This floor plan is from Colleen Haskell's high school. I repeat: Colleen Haskell should be moved immediately to a safe place.

Two Other Quick Things:

1. This article asserts that male scientists and criminals both do their best work before their mid-30s and that it's probably to attract women. Satoshi Kanazawa, of the University of Canterbury in New Zealand, says: "They do whatever they do in order to get laid."

The unanswered question: Does it work?

2. Sorry these posts have been kind of short and disjointed and inconsistent. I started a new assignment this week and so I've been writing and posting from a computer lab in a high school in Detroit Public Schools, while trying, at the same time, to ignore the students. I'm sorry: "...to ignore my students."

If jesus were alive today, he'd hang out at the yo-yo store

Tuesday, when I arrived on campus, I was greeted outside the parking structure by an old gentleman passing out free copies of the New Testament. This is, I'm sure, a fairly common scene on most college/high school campuses. I just waved my hand and said "no thanks" before he got a word out. I would have explained to him that I don't want one primarily because I already have more Bibles than I can read and that if his goal is to reach the unsaved, he could spend his Bibles more wisely on people who aren't already Christians, but I decided that I preferred to make him think I was some self-righteous atheist.

Anyhow, later on the same day, I happened upon a most interesting scene: in one of the "commons" types areas on campus - you know, with the benches and the fountain and so on - I saw a gentleman yo-yoing in front of about four PA speakers that were blasting Christian pop music. I could tell instantly that it was Christian pop because the vox were mixed right out in front and the message was uplifting. The guitars were distorted, but not in a caution-to-the-wind kind of way, but in a very boring, very sterile Good Charlotte kind of way. Also, I became instantly aware that, outside of the context of some sort of Christian "ministry", there would be absolutely no cause for anyone to ever perform solo yo-yo tricks in front of giant PA speakers while several other people "warmed up" behind him. I recalled my days on my church's mime troupe. We would do mime skits to present the gospel. That's right. Mime.

Now, I did some searching on the web and by process of elimination (or whatever it's called when there's only one of something so that thing must be the one you're looking for) I concluded that it must've been The King's Yomen.


"Holy shit! Watch out - he's got a yo-yo!"

I certainly don't want to make fun of these folks - no, strike that: I do, but I won't - because I can't fault somebody for using their talents to try to spread a positive message, particularly in a world so bleak. In fact, maybe it's folks like the King's Yomen, who seem totally misguided and naive to folks on the outside, who have everything figured out. "War? Recession? Pestilence? Whatever. I'm just going to yo-yo and think about Jesus." What could be better?

Due to my extensive Christian mime background, I'm totally aware of how far-fetched and cheesy some of the "skits" or "messages" can be. In that spirit, I've decided to take a stab at writing some yo-yo-is-like-[some aspect of Christianity]-type one-liners that I'm sure you'll love.

    * Walking with Christ is like walking the dog...

    * God's love comes with no strings attached, unlike my yo-yo which has one string attached.

    * Jesus is like a Duncan Cold Fusion Yo-Yo and Satan is like a Green Duncan Imperial. I mean, seriously... okay?

    * Remember when I tried that Hoopla earlier but I flubbed the dismount? That's like when we sin.

    * In the Bible, Jesus says, "no man cometh unto the Father except by me." Now I'm going to Rock the Baby.

By the way, I'm not sure if "King's Yomen" is some bible pun that I should get, but I don't get it. Does anyone?

Either way, I need to read the Bible more and brush up on my Yo-Yo tricks.

Aw, Man! Already $400 With 5 Days Still To Go; I'm Never Going To Own One Of These Logs!

I might as well just give up now. There's no way that I'm going to win any of the e-bay autions for Survivor: Amazon memorabilia. All of the proceed go through the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric AIDS Foundation, so you'd normally assume that this type of activity would be beyond reproach. But as my 8th grade Algebra teacher used to say and partially write on the board (to help make the meaning clear): "When you ASSUME, you make an ASS out of U and ME."

    Mr. Macarbry, may you rest in peace, and if you're still alive, may your old collapsing body and surely frightful appearance and hellish odor not be too displeasing to those around you as they attempt to quietly kill you.

And you have made an ass out of yourself if you assumed that this Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric AIDS Foundation was up to nothing but good. I did a little bit of digging and I found out that this elusive "Elizabeth Glaser" person not only exists, but is also not even a child!



If my sources are accurate, at least one of these three women is Elizabeth Glaser. Do any of these women look like children to you? Do you think any of these women suffers from Pediatric AIDS? Is there even such a thing as Pediatric AIDS? The answers to these questions all resoundingly support whatever unstructured attack against the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric AIDS Foundation I may be launching.

What makes this all worse is that Survivor: Amazon is not Elizabeth Glaser's only victim. The cast of Friends have all designed chairs which were subsequently made by La-Z-Boy and are now being auctioned off (only three of each design) to raise money for these Elizabeth Glasers. Below are the Friends' chairs, followed by some less impressive chairs that are, as far as I can tell, still available.

Some Quick Shamelessness!

I'll be putting up a real post later (probably), but I wanted to point you to some things that make me look cool.

First of all, Ben Hammersley has mentioned Haypenny (the best site in the world, where I also happen to be an Editor) in an article today at Guardian.

Second of all, Matthew Tobey gave what would kofi annan do? a real nice shout out in his blog, Matthew Tobey in the City of Floating Blogs.

And thirdly, if you didn't read the interview that Claire Zulkey did with all four of us Haypenny Editors on her website, Zulkey.com, then you should do so now.

Keep the dream alive.

Live from Long Beach!

I'm in Long Beach, California right now, blogging from the upstairs of an Internet Cafe that my friend Rachel told me was a gay internet cafe. I'm not sure if the internet here is gay or the coffee, or this tall drink of water Scott who's sitting on my lap gently suckling my earlobe, but the Chai Lattes here are to die for.
Easter night I boarded a Greyhound bus with a friend. Just 58 hours later, we had arrived in Los Angeles, California. I finished three books: Make Believe Town by David Mamet, A Good Man Is Hard To Find by Flannery O'Connor and The Dog of the South by Charles Portis. I recommend each of them. I completely forgot, however, to stay on top of the news. In such a newsy time in world history, that's totally unforgivable.
So what I've decided to do is craft my own version (having still not read a newspaper, or so much as flipped past the news on television--for all I know, SARS has killed everyone back home) of the news, using my experiences on the bus as sort of a guide. Here, for your edification, is the news from the last two days:

Late Sunday, April 20

It's almost one in the morning. A very, very fat Colin Powell boards enters the Oval Office, dragging behind him a quarrelsome three-year-old Donald Rumsfeld. Donald begins to ask (and does not stop for some time) why Colin Powell is "not driving the train." "Why ain't you drivin' the train, Momma?"
"Ain't you gonna drive the train, Momma?"

Monday, April 21

During a seven-hour respite from fighting, troops in Baghdad decide to lock their Army luggage up in the world's largest coin-operated Army locker and step outside of the Army depot for a smoke. Upon seeing the neighborhood, they quickly board an Army taxi and fly uptown to the barracks of their friend, Sgt. Derek. Even though they woke him up at oh five hundred hours, he was still nice and hospitable and even took the troops out to breakfast.Eventually, the troops had to return to the Army depot, where the fighting was about to begin again. When they did, it took far too long for the fighting to begin and the directions were not all that clear.
In other news: President Bush makes short work of Make Believe Town and Vice President Dick Cheney takes a pretty big bite out of The Jungle.

Tuesday, April 22

If my creativity serves me, Tuesday was a pretty big day in the news.Of primary importance, Jay Garner took over both seats in front of the President and the Vice President, even though he'd only paid for one seat, and put both seats as far back as they could possibly go, thereby earning himself lots of "accidental" bumps from the First and Second knees.
Also: Condoleeza Rice, Tom Ridge and Saddam Hussein (also known as the creepy pool-championship-attending threesome from Boston) continued to spill shit all over the floor of world politics all day, getting the First and Second carry-on bags very messy.

Wednesday, April 23

You know what, I was falling in-and-out of sleep all days as we drove around Los Angeles. Also, I can't keep this joke up any longer. Sorry.

Tomorrow I hope to post a little bit on the fun I'm having in California. I have to come back here anyway to pick Scott up for our date.

So, I'm crazy; so, what's the fuss?

Tonight, I board a bus headed for Los Angeles. With me will be my trusted and esteemed colleague Chad Roberts, of Havilland fame.

We are headed to Los Angeles to see people that we don't get to see often enough. What does this mean for you, the reader? It means no new posts until Wednesday. That's when we'll arrive in Los Angeles. And even then I think I'm going to have to find a library or internet cafe.

I will do whatever it takes. Look forward to hearing about what will hopefully be an entertaining trip. If it sucks, I will surely take it out on you.

Until Wednesday...

The Jefferson Muzzle Awards, via La Beta Corpo:

    Announced on or near April 13 -- the anniversary of the birth of Thomas Jefferson -- the Jefferson Muzzles are awarded as a means to draw national attention to abridgments of free speech and press and, at the same time, foster an appreciation for those tenets of the First Amendment. Because the importance and value of free expression extend far beyond the First Amendment's limit on government censorship, acts of private censorship are not spared consideration for the dubious honor of receiving a Muzzle...


This year's recipients include US Attorney General John Ashcroft, the 107th US Congress, Mayor Tom Bates of Berkeley, California and others.

Newsflash: Coalition Forces May Be Slightly Unfocused

It seems, for the most part, that Coalition forces have won in Baghdad, but we seem to be getting a pretty mixed message from the administration on where things stand. Some members of the administration suggest that we have not yet "won" the war, while other members of the administration, under the premise that we've won, seem to be calling for apologies and explanations from all the folks who suggested that war might not be as easy as everyone thinks.

A lot of this confusion boils down to Coalition forces wanting to avoid the responsibilities involved with being an occupying power. These responsibilities include (from Reuters):


    ARTICLE 50 says the occupying power must "facilitate the proper working of all institutions devoted to the care and education of children."

    ARTICLE 55 says the occupying power, as far as possible, "has the duty of ensuring the food and medical supplies of the population; it should, in particular, bring in the necessary foodstuffs, medical stores and other articles if the resources of the occupied territory are inadequate."

    ARTICLE 56 says the occupying power "has the duty of ensuring and maintaining, with the cooperation of national and local authorities, the medical and hospital establishments and services, public health and hygiene in the occupied territory... Medical personnel of all categories shall be allowed to carry out their duties."

    ARTICLE 57 says that the occupying power is solely responsible for "stealing" all of the "shit" in the occupied country, and for "raping" or, at least, "brutalizing" the population.

    But ARTICLE 60 warns that the occupying power must "lay off, bro" and that the occupying power should "check itself before it wrecks itself."

    But then ARTICLE 63 be all "you don't know that population... you don't know that population!"

    Shit, so ARTICLE 67 be like, "Man, fuck this noise, bitch" and "I'm outta here."

    "What the fuck?" declares ARTICLE 70.


Until "victory" is declared, however, these articles do not apply. So in order to prolong the "campaign" side of the conflict, the Coalition has issued playing cards to troops with the names and faces of the most wanted folks. It seems, at first, like a good idea, but upon further inspection of the cards, it appears the whole thing may just be a stalling tactic, or some sort of wild goose chase:




    We all know that Luscious Jackson's international track record is not stellar, and I'm sure they've had their fair share of shady dealings with Saddam and his regime, but come on! Does anyone really believe that Luscious Jackson belongs in the top 52? This is unjustifiable.



    Actually, upon a little further research, this one is completely justified. Rule of the Bone was pretty much an instruction manual on suicide bombing. Let's go, US and UK; let's get Russell Banks!



    As far as I can tell, our government wants to paint the lovely Allison from Joe Millionaire as a terrorist simply because she refused to "fall" for "Evan" just because cameras were rolling. Her blatant disregard for consumer culture and her complete lack of respect for infalable television has made her the target of hundred of thousands of U.S., British and Australian troops. What, aren't there enough Iraqi women to rape?


Come on, Coalition forces, let's get our shit together and end this thing already! And if you do run into Allison, give her a good rogering for me, will ya?

I Like My Billionaires Living, My Dieticians Healthy And My Friends Anglo

I Like My Billionaires LivTherefore, today is the absolute worst day of my life. I'm trying to piece it all together. I've been pacing since I woke up at 4 o'clock this morning. I awoke to my neighbor pounding on my door, delivering all the bad news. I've already smoked a pack-and-a-half of Pall Malls and I've consumed all of the coffee in the house.

There has to be some sort of connection. There must be a mastermind behind all of this. Days like today (with the death of John Paul Getty II, the death of Dr. Robert Atkins and the addition of Dr. Aisha Tyler to the cast of Friends--click on images above for CNN coverage) don't just happen; they're crafted.

It's days like today that make me question everything I believe. The events of Thursday, April 17, 2003 will always be remembered for causing me to question the following beliefs, copied right out of the manifesto I had to write for an assignment in a high school composition class:


    4. I believe that the rich don't die.
    13. I believe that diet and exercise can prevent slip-and-fall.
    103. I believe that Friends will always appeal to me, because I am a horrible racist.
    188. I believe that... Billionaires? Pshh... Who needs 'em?
    212. I believe that Aisha Tyler already has a job: it's that late night talk show where one time she made out with Leah Remini. Am I making this up?
    231. I believe that Jimmy Carter has forgotten his grudge against John Paul Getty II and Dr. Robert Atkins and has also stopped thinking of feindishly clever ways to kill someone.

More Damaging Violations Of U.N. Resolutions From (And Of) Secretary Powell.

Before you go scratching your head, wondering how I, a lowly blogger, could have access to such sensitive information, keep in mind that this site is in no way affiliated with U.N. Secretary General Kofi Annan and that I was lying when I claimed to be the Celebrity Mole. The truth is that during my hiatuses, I've been flying top-secret UB40 flights over my own home in an effort to protect it from yellow boxes and scary words.

My efforts have of course been futile. Take a gander at these disarmingly scary images that will, in a matter of seconds probably, be confiscated by the Department of State and plucked from the web never to be seen from or heard of again. Enjoy them while you can.





Sorry to blow your socks clean off, but when one comes across information as valuable and as shocking as this, one pays no attention to socks or to whether things are being blown off. One acts. And one acts courageously. You're welcome.

I'm *cough, cough* Back...

Sorry that it's been so long since I've posted. I've been really busy with things that don't necessarily involve this blog and therefore, aren't really that important.

And to be honest with you, it's been very hard dragging myself out of bed today to blog when all I can think about is poor, poor, beautiful, smart Allison and how stupid Joe Millionaire is.

God, I'm going to need a day to deal with this. In the meantime, please read the links on the left. Or, you can read about how much Michigan's roads suck and craft some sort of an argument whereby you prove that ex-Governer John Engler isn't a total douche.

    From Michigan's website:
    Governor Engler spoke at a meeting of the American Association of State Highway and Transportation Officials in Washington, D.C. where he also received the President’s Award from the Foundation for Pavement Preservation for saving Michigan nearly $100 million in transportation projects during his tenure as governor.

    Wow! He saved us all that money! Think of it: saving money and shitty roads and bridges! Somebody pinch me!


Or maybe you can spend the next day, whilst you await my glorious and misdirected and ambiguously-slanted return, trying to put into words what I'm feeling about the Iraq situation. It essentially breaks down like this:


    1. We think he has something.
    2. But we can't find it.
    3. And he won't admit that he has it.
    4. So the only reasonable explanation is that he's lying.


Where I come from, this is called "assuming what you've set out to prove,"

    ...although sometimes it's called a Kyle Masterson, because ol' crazy Dr. Masterson used to do that all the time, so we named it after him. He also has public urination named after him...


...and it's not very logically sound.

But what do I know? I don't read newspapers.

I'll be back in full force soon.

When Stars Fall From Sight... This Is Where They Crash (Sometimes As Many As Fifteen Years Later).

While I'm taking a break from taste-testing microwave popcorn, searching through my closet for my hallowed "television pants" (a dubious invention that, by some definitions, isn't even considered pants) and de-lousing my couch all in preparation for tonight's premiere of The Surreal Life on the WB, I thought I'd take a second and share some thoughts about it.

You see, VH1 and E! and other clever networks of the sort have done something truly incredible: they've actually trained us to be interested in starts before or after they're even stars. It strikes me as miraculous that anyone anywhere ever convinced anyone to be interested in another person--the whole notion of celebrity completely mystifies me. That said, I can at least appreciate interest (my own interest included) in "celebrities" during their tenure on my television screen, or in my CD player, or in my books (ha! books!), but I'm totally absolutely blown-out-of-the-water confused that I'm been taught to be fascinated with the lives of ex- or pre-famous people. What the fuck?!


    Ex-Famous People shows I like:
    Star Date - I watched the Kim Fields one and I loved the hell out of her.
    Behind the Music - Constantly begging the question, Behind the Music tends to succeed more often at showing us all what's next to the music, or on top of the music. That said, have I ever missed one? Of course. Am I proud of that? Of course not.
    True Hollywood Story - True Hollywood Stories sometimes make me nostalgic for when I was super rich and spoiled and irresponsible.
    The Surreal Life - TiVo is all set up.

    Pre-Famous People shows I like:
    Survivor - I don't care what anyone says; I'm a Survivor nut. Anyone who tells you differently either doesn't know me or is lying to you.
    Joe Millionaire - This show was every bit as awesome as I hoped it would be. I think there needs to be more bickering. More bickering and more explanations about how a "construction worker" only makes $19,000 per year.
    Sorority Life - I hated college. And I'm happy to watch someone else hate it. After all, what else would I watch--music videos?
    American Idol - I didn't think Kelly was going to win, but I was really glad that she did. Way to go, Kelly!

        (I remember hearing once, and I'll never remember who said it, that having so much choice is essentially like having no choice at all. For example, I have hundred of channels to choose from. I've got all this "choice" but what does it translate to? I've in essence lost the freedom to choose not to watch. This show was a lot like that for me: "Wow! I've got all these people to choose from to be my American Idol? How will I ever decide?" And I never even had a choice as to whether I thought I needed an American Idol or not.)


I guess what makes me sad is that, I like to watch the ex-celebrity shows and convince myself that these people are happy not being famous. These shows like to paint ex-celebs as being poor and hungry and desperate for any attention they can get. And I, like all Americans, enjoy that picture; I like believing that these people who were once mega-famous and had everything in the world are now just groping for any attention I might be able to spare them. Of course, I usually tend to believe that it's just a creative and fun fiction, and that in reality these people are well-adjusted and back to being normal people.

Then Danica McKellar shows up on The West Wing.

Then Hulk Hogan starts pitching 10-10- numbers.

Then a show like the Surreal Life comes out, and it becomes less and less a "creative and fun fiction" and more and more real, and therefore, more and more sad.