Blog
June 27, 2006
NOTE OF THE DAY:
Back from LA.
Sorry for the delay.
Lots of technical difficulties.
What can I say?
AMBIGUOUS SIGN OF THE DAY:
On the back of a truck. "Finnish America." A statement of Scandinavian ethnic pride or a slogan from an illiterate Al Qaeda Jihadist?
CURIOUS EXPERIENCE OF THE DAY:
Seeing a Hollywood Video sign that was actually in Hollywood.
OBSERVATION OF THE DAY:/CRUEL BI-COASTAL IRONY OF THE DAY:
In LA, people have really nice spacious apartments. But the traffic is so bad they spend half their time trying to get home from work and so have almost no time to enjoy them. In NYC, we have crappy little overpriced apartments, but we have great public transportation, so we can get home quickly to our dank little hovels.
MEDIA META-COMMENTARY OF THE DAY:
Chicago White Sox manager Ozzie Guillen (hailed far and wide for his unedited, straight from the hip, tell it like it is approach.) made a disparaging comment about one of the Chicago sports reporters that was deemed newsworthy because it contained a slur against homosexuals. But it became blogworthy because of the way it was reported. The quote, shown on the screen in a written form, was “He’s a (expletive) fag.” What was curious and noteworthy was the way they felt comfortable showing the quote in its written form but refused to utter the three letter term of sexual derogation in question. It was as if the unspoken text constituted objective news, but the utterance of said text would have constituted an editorial legitimization of the statement. There was an almost magical distinction made between the respective powers accorded the written and spoken word. If it were a racial epithet, they might have been able to make use of the phrase “The N word”—a term which has an associated written form (“N--) and manages to clearly say without saying, It wasn’t quite hypocrisy. It was just a fascinating little liminal moment—at the socially constituted boundary between the admissible and the taboo.
HOMELAND INSECURITY MOMENT OF THE DAY:
The revelations of al qaeda plans for a cyanide attack on NYC subways really makes the government's refusal of homeland security funds to NYC (allegedly for failure to fill out the forms properly) look all the more enlightened. Inspires confidence in the wisdom and competence of our leadership. Gives one that cozy happy feeling.
TALKING (COUNTER)POINT OF THE DAY:
BTW: When Cheney and Rove pull out the old absurdity that the Republicans should be re-elected because there have been no additional terrorist attacks on their watch, it must instantly be pointed out that the original--and entirely unprecedented -- terrorist attacks of 9/11 happened on their watch and on no one else's. The Bush administration: A legacy of contempt for our memory and our intelligence.
NOTE TO SELF OF DAY:
OK, Vegas. Dial down the righteous indignation. And dial up the entertainment.
COMEDY IDEA OF THE DAY:
Accidentally offending the deaf. Some innocent series of hand gestures you use to communicate with someone (simple gesticulations to supplement your verbal narrative) turns out to mean something insulting or pejorative in sign language. “You’re fat and ugly” or “What a bad nose job!” Larry David style hijinx ensue.
(UNCHARACTERISTICALLY SNARKY) CELEBRITY OBSERVATION OF THE DAY:
NIcole Kidman looked really happy in the wedding pictures I saw in the NY Post. I guess her first marriage really helped her figure out what she wanted in life. Like, for example, a heterosexual husband.
EMPATHIC EXERCISE OF THE DAY:
Consider the sad fate of the displaced starter dog—marginalized with the birth of the first child after being used for a parental test run.
QUOTE OF THE DAY:
“For our viewers, let’s recap what we don’t know.” --Anderson Cooper on 360. I am impressed with this attempt to define the negative space of our collective knowledge (or to summarize the totality of our collective ignorance), but think he would need to have much longer than a 2 hour programming slot to essay such an ambitious project.
MEDIA OBSERVATION OF THE DAY:
Someone I know was remarking that Maxim has really lost its mojo. Evidently (I am not a regular reader/ogler), men turned to Maxim to see hot erotic shots of scantily clad models and actresses they couldn’t see virtually naked anywhere else. But this month they have porn star Tera Patrick on the cover and posing for a spread. The guy was lamenting how this is a clear sign that the magazine has lost its way. I mean why would anyone want to pay to see a woman posing in Maxim if he could easily see her totally naked doing all kinds of explicit sexual things on a porn video or on the web? I suggested that he was missing the point. And the point is novelty. Just as readers can go to Maxim to experience the novelty of seeing a pop star they normally see fully clothed posing in a scantily-clad suggestive fashion, now they can see a woman they’re only used to seeing totally naked in the novel guise of merely partial undress. Maxim offers novelty from both directions. The fully dressed are transformed into the titillatingly underdressed. The fully naked are transformed into the titillatingly semi-clad. It marks the crossing point where the clothed objects of desire can reveal and the naked objects of desire can at least partially conceal. It’s an opportunity for image transformation under the careful observation of the spankerishly sophisticated male gaze.
FLUFF NEWS ITEM OF THE DAY:
A researcher recently looked into the question of what is the happiest day of the year. After about 3000 interviews and an algorithm that factored in all kinds of variables like length of day, abundance of childhood memories, weather etc., he determined that the happiest day of the year is June 23. Which is today. Judging from my very limited sample of 1 person’s experience, I’d say he might be onto something. I had a really nice, quiet relaxing day that included a brief jog in the Hollywood hills and a Salad nicoise by the hotel poolside. And I’m now enjoying a crisp Tecate beer as the sun begins to set on my last day in LA. Hope you’ve had a good one. I wonder if the day will soon become known as Happiest Day Day or Happiness Day? That might really put a lot of pressure on people to be happy and hence have the ironic effect of making lots of people feel depressed.
THOUGHT FOR THE DAY:
That while the Internet narcotizes most of the world (via porn, sports scores, stock prices, chat rooms and celebrity gossip sites), it is being used by a small network to plan and organize terrorist attacks. It would be interesting to take a true snapshot of the life of the web. To get a sense of—at any given moment—how many people are using it for porn, how many using it for gossip, how many using it to get their sports or stock fix, how many are using it for practical business matters and how many are using it to research or organize a terrorist attack. I find the simultaneity of all those uses fascinating. At the moment that one person is refreshing the page that holds his stock portfolio, another is pressing 'send' on a letter to his mother, another is booking a flight to his best friend’s wedding, another is looking up a recipe, another is thrumming himself while watching an internet blow job and yet another is posting instructions for a do-it-yourself terrorist bomb. The various uses and abuses of a single global technological entity--a web that brings us all together and in which we are all ensnared.
CONFIRMATION OF THE DAY:
When people wonder (as they often do around New York or at least among my circle of morbidly curious friends) why there have been no terrorist attacks since 9/11, I have always maintained that it’s because they are waiting to do something even more spectacularly devastating than the WTC attacks. It has seemed obvious to me that anything as pedestrian as a suicide bomber in GCT would feel puny and disappointing after the events of 2001; that the bar was set really high and, working in Allah time as they are, they are patiently waiting for a plan that will exceed that nefariously lofty standard. While I am no Nostradamus and (as any reader of this blog knows) am often wrong in my hunches and predictions, this one has always really seemed like a no-brainer to me. Anyhow, I got confirmation of this while reading in Newsweek about how El-Zawahri evidently vetoed the planned cyanide attacks on the NYC subways precisely because they were insufficiently spectacular. It felt both confirming and bit creepy that both of my most acutely felt terrorist-related intuitions (that the next attack would be on the subways and the the only reason there had not been further attacks was that they hadn’t met the requisite spectacular devastation criterion) were both confirmed in the same story. It made me think that I was doing a very good job of thinking like the terrorists who are trying to kill me. Which means, in a sense, they had already won. But of course they haven’t fully won. I still spend a heck of a lot of time using the internet for fun, idling stuff like sports and blogging-- blissfully oblivious to the fact that as I do so, they are busy using it to network and plot their next attack.
MOVIE/MUSIC REC OF THE DAY:
The Documentary “Leonard Cohen. I’m Your Man.” Based on a concert in tribute to this artist of singular gravitas, humor and dignity –a songwriter so dedicated and gifted that he puts to shame pretty much everyone else who even presumes to practice the craft. As someone (U2’s Edge or Nick Cave) says of him –in one of the movie’s many statements of extravagant praise to the nattily attired Montreal-born “Jewdist”: “Hey the guy can actually write. That gives him an unfair advantage.” Musical highlights included Antony’s rendition of “If It Be Your Will”, a gorgeous duet version of “Anthem” by two Canadian women whose names escape me, a nice version of “The Chelsea Hotel” by Rufus Wainright and a stunning version of the breathtakingly beautiful “Hallelujah” by the self-same baritone diva. It was striking that there was not a single American among the many people who came to Australia to sing in honor of this musical legend. I will not suggest that this is because Americans lack the lyrical sophistication and seriousness of spirit to appreciate his music. But, frankly, I cannot think of any more plausible explanation. (Or maybe this is hogwash and it is simply a consequence of the fact that no American singers were invited.)
LEONARD COHEN LYRIC OF THE DAY:
“Ring the bells that still can ring/forget your perfect offering./There is a crack, a crack in everything/That’s how the light gets in.”
SHAMEFUL (ASTOUNDING) NATIONAL SNAPSHOT OF THE DAY:
In the same week, congress effectively extended almost all of the inheritance tax benefits of the very rich and denied a raise in minimum wage to the very poor.
A PROPOS LEONARD COHEN LYRIC OF THE DAY:
Everybody knows that the dice are loaded
Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed
Everybody knows that the war is over
Everybody knows the good guys lost
Everybody knows the fight was fixed
The poor stay poor, the rich get rich
That's how it goes
Everybody knows
And everybody knows that it's now or never
Everybody knows that it's me or you
And everybody knows that you live forever
Ah when you've done a line or two
Everybody knows the deal is rotten
Old Black Joe's still pickin' cotton
For your ribbons and bows
And everybody knows.
HIGHLIGHT OF THE DAY:
Leonard Cohen performing “Tower of Song” with U2. An obviously humbled Bono hums along to his lead like a Pipp to Gladys Knight—until offering a truly beautiful (paradoxically restrained yet soaring) version of the bridge. Aside from world poverty, Leonard Cohen is the only force or entity or presence I have ever known to truly humble Bono. This attitude of respect bordering on reverence made me like the pop star in the wraparound shades more than I ever had before. And the unreadable blankness on Leonard Cohen’s face as he sang—suggestive alternately of mild amusement and complete indifference—was worth the price of admission.
LAUGHABLE UTTERANCE OF THE DAY:
“Scooter Libby—one of the finest men I have ever met.”
Dick Cheney, during a CNN interview,, although it was possible that his asymmetrical smirk was an indication that he was speaking in geste.
Tags:
None
© All rights reserved.
Posted on 6/27/2006
(
Permanent Link
)
Read 445 Times
 Send to Friend
|
June 15, 2006
QUICK NOTE TO MY READERS OF THE DAY:
I am on an extended business trip that I'm not 100% excited about being on--meaning that at very few times in my life has the umbilical link offered by the internet been more important to me. Which also means that, needless to say, this would be the one time my trusty Mac fails me. Yes, because of some kind of glitch in my operating system, my computer, for the first time ever, cannot connect me to the Web. Which means I am suffering a terrible--almost existential--crisis; a maddening claustrophobia as my virtual world is suddenly shrink-wrapped to the size of my actual physical world and I am exiled from from my daily diet of sports scores, stock prices, news items, e-mails and, of course--and most relevant here--blogging. I have not come to terms with the virtual amputation. I keep reaching for my espn.com and my yahoo.com and my blogger.com but there is nothing there. It's a clear case of phantom Web syndrome. Evidently, I need to reinstall the OS 10 operating system, which I've never had to do before in over 2 years with this computer and which I've got on a disc in a drawer somewhere at home 3000 miles away. My computer had never ever failed to connect me to the Internet until now--when I need it most and will have no access to my OS discs for about 10 days. It's like a parachute working in every test run but failing the one time you actually jump out of the plane. OK, maybe that's a bit melodramatic. Anyhow, the point of all this whining is to alert you to the fact that I am only going to be able to blog in stolen moments (like this one) on other peoples' computers. So please forgive me in advance if my blatherings, opinings, ruminations and observations do not flow into virtual space as frequently or voluminously as I would have hoped over the next 10 days. Know that this is only for lack of opportunity and lack of technology...not for lack of desire. (Ok. It might be for lack of insight, wit, wisdom and material too. But I'd rather blame it on the technology.) Anyhow, I'll keep scribbling down notes on my trusty napkins and bar coasters and get stuff to the Internet as frequently as I possibly can. In the meantime, here's a bunch of stuff I've scribbled down over the last few days.
UNACKNOWLEDGED IRONY OF THE DAY:
A guy I know was reading “In Touch” intently for about an hour. Then he turns to me and complains, "I don't like that Lindsay Lohan. She thinks that just because she's a celebrity, the whole world is interested in what she does or what she thinks. Like anyone cares. Get over yourself!" He might as well have then asked me to please pass the "Us."
AMBIGUOUS SIGN OF THE DAY:
"Osama Bin Forgotten"--spotted on the way to my hotel from LAX. Hard to tell if it's slamming Bin Laden or the US government.
OBSERVATION OF THE DAY:
It's well known that the administration refuses to show photos of our dead or wounded soldiers--out of respect for their humanity or at least in denial of the tragic realities of war. It was striking, then, to see the way the same administration made the grotesque death photos of Zarqawi not only available but ubiquitous. The clinically sublimated relish with which they discussed each internal and external wound contrasted sharply with the absolute silence (and in many cases like Pat Tillman's--the absolute dissimulation) they keep on the matter of the American dead and wounded. While one can explain these divergent treatments as being based on a desire to boost morale, they seem reflective on an underlying dishonesty and immaturity about the matters of war--a fantasist's attitude that, to my thinking, does not bode well for our efforts over there.
UNWITTINGLY ACCURATE SIGN OF THE DAY:
I go into the men's room at the airport. Next to the long row of urinals, there is one of those little yellow janitorial teepee signs that reads "Wet Floor." The water from the mopping had completely dried, but, of course, the sign was in no way inaccurate-- a tribute to both the precision and fastidiousness of the human male. It'd be nice if they left signs like that in men's rooms around the country on a 24/7/365 basis.
DREAM FRAGMENT OF THE DAY:
A friend is telling me that I made an appearance in his dream but it is happening, of course, in my dream. We are both laughing--perhaps at the paradoxical absurdity of this oneiric encounter.
NOTE TO SELF OF THE DAY:
Write something at some point (when you have less time-constrained access to the Internet) about the strange connection between airports and graveyards--at least in your experience as a New Yorker who drives past those enormous, ever- expanding Queens cemetaries with every departure and return.
TELLING TRAVESTY OF THE DAY:
When we took the Avis bus from the airport to the Avis office where the rental cars were parked, they made a big deal out of announcing that the first stop was "for Avis Preferred customers only." The bus stopped and --with great fanfare--3 or 4 people got off. Then the bus drove about 5 feet further and let the rest of us riff raff off. The absurdly small distinction between the preferred and the barely tolerated was just delightful. It spoke to the profound human desire to make hierachical distinctions--even as it mocked that very inclination. It was an absurd little reminder that we are a status-obsessed species and that at the very center of human society there stands a velvet rope.
OBSERVATION OF THE DAY #2:
If Barbaro survives this ordeal, he'll have a hell of a life. Doing nothing but banging the mares and hanging out. Sort of like OJ--without the shame.
ADVERTISING MOMENT OF THE DAY:
In the middle of watching a show about the Joy of Grilling, I see a commercial for these chubby Bratwursts--cheesily shot from every imaginable angle. At the end of the spot, we see the package and the announcer says "Bratwursts from Johnsonville. Mmm." Bratwursts from Johnsonville? What's next: Sausage from Dicksburgh? I was sure it was a bad Saturday Night Live fake ad popping up unexpectedly in the middle of Alton Brown's "Good Eats". But, no. It was not. Just another unacknowledged absurdity of the day.
ACTING REVIEW OF THE DAY:
Ben Affleck's performance in "Boiler Room." As unconvincing as Tom Cruise's performance in his role as Nicole Kidman's husband.
TV COMMENTARY OF THE DAY:
Deadwood. The surprising alliance of the poetic and the profane. Arguably, the closest thing to Shakespeare we've ever had on TV.
ANECDOTE OF THE DAY:/MOVIE IDEA OF THE DAY
I am on the Metro North train returning to New York after visiting my father in Westport. I am sitting next to an African-American kid and his girlfriend. They are both in full hip hop attire (do-rag, baggy pants, etc.) and have loud rap ring tones on their cell phones--which go off with some frequency. The guy, about 18, is repeatedly complaining about the "freaking heat" --a function of the fact that the air conditioning on the train is not working. After a bunch of people get off at one of the stops, the guy turns to me and says "Son, could you move to another seat...it's really hot." I am startled first and foremost by being called "Son"--in flagrant defiance of the logics of race and chronology. But I am also a bit confused about the request. "Am I making you hot?" I inquire. "Just lots of people together make it even hotter." "Ok. Well as long as I'm not making you hot--cause that would worry me and, I would think, your girlfriend." I move to the empty seat...but cannot help thinking that this gives the term "My elder son" a new meaning. It also suggests what I think could be a really funny movie premise: A 20 year old black kid with a 40 year old white Jewish son. It's just a bizarre given and no one comments on it as unusual in any way. Cultural/racial/generational hijinx ensue.
QUOTE OF THE DAY:
"Sure Alex is struggling. I don't have an answer for him except to pat him on the rear end." -Joe Torre on A-Rod's slump and on the healing power of Man Love.
OBSERVATION OF THE DAY #3:
A pretty well known mafia restaurant near where I work just closed. I think the fact that Casa Nostra can't even keep a restaurant open is a pretty eloquent statement about the declining power and prestige of organized crime. In fact, it seems to me that no one would even talk about the mob any more if it weren't for "The Sopranos." Come to think of it, most of the old goodfellas who used to frequent this establishment (which I won't name--as the mob may not have lost as much power as I claim) really looked like they were doing nothing more than auditioning for bit parts on the HBO series--as if there were no other work-befitting-a-mobster to be found. The ironic corrolary of this is that while mob activity seems to be on the wane, a very high percentage of actors who play mobsters on "The Sopranos" end up committing some kind of mob-type crime. It's a through the looking glass art-imitating-life-imitating-art kind of a thing.
MAXIM OF THE DAY:
A sucker may be born every minute, but a biter...now that's a much rarer breed.
QUOTE OF THE DAY #2:
"Firemen barging into your home at 2:30 a.m. is only exciting for a little while."
TEDDY VEGAS ROVE-INSPIRED BUMPER STICKER IDEAS OF THE DAY:
Empty Promises are a precious natural resource. Photo-ops speak louder than words. The spin shall set us free. Gay Marriage devalues MY marriage! A sick environment is a sign of a healthy economy. Foresight is for pussies. The Buck Stops There. Meaninglessly affirmative slogan here. Guns are people too. Conservation is Un-American.
TEDDY VEGAS BRANDED INTERACTIVE POLL QUESTION OF THE DAY:
Which was the more important photo released last week: Zarqawi in death or Brangelina's baby in diapers?
Tags:
None
© All rights reserved.
Posted on 6/15/2006
(
Permanent Link
)
Read 327 Times
Send to Friend
|
June 09, 2006
6/6/6 A DAYLONG VIGIL--REPORTED A FEW DAYS LATE
In honor of the whole 6/6/6 thing, I figure I'll keep a keen daylong lookout for what Wordsworth referred to as “signs and symbols of the great apocalypse.” I want to see if there's anything to this whole End of the World thing or if what we've got on our hands here are signs and symbols of the great same ole same ole.
Portentous or nothing? You make the call.
NOTE: I know by the time you read all this, the verdict will be in and the terrible suspense that I sustained during my relentless investigation will have been resolved. But still, even if the whole End of the World thing is in the rear view mirror, please pretend while you read this that it is still 6/6/6 and the outcome is still very much in doubt.
Okay. First news item. From Yahoo.com. I see that at the sports
gambling site Betus.com, the wager of the day is: "Will the World End on 6-6-06?
Yahoo reports that “By 6 p.m. yesterday, 216 of the 700 gamblers had bet an average of just more than $2 that yes, the world would end. The odds stood at 100,000 to 1.”
Love the idea of people betting in the affirmative that the world will end…and still hoping to collect winnings if they're right. It sort of reminds me of the mentally challenged guy who had been convicted of some capital offense and was on death row in Arkansas. Evidently, the guy's mental deficiency was such that he had no concept of time. He would say things like “After my execution, I am going to behave even better in prison.” Anyhow, he was a big dessert lover and used to save his dinner desserts to have as a treat the next morning. On the night of his execution, they served him his last meal and took him from the cell to the execution chamber. When the warden returned to his cell to clean it up after the execution, he discovered that they guy had put aside his dessert for the next day.
/>(A true story).
OK, here's something from the AP: U.S. to give Iran nuclear technology. Hmm. If one is looking for a sign of the end of the world, there it is. Oh, wait: On closer examination, it's in an attempt to get them to stop their uranium enrichment program…for nuclear weapons. Ok, so maybe not. False alarm. Easily subsume-able under some kind of a “rational” strategy. (Although the idea of the Bush administration pursuing a rational strategy is so remarkably counterintuitive as to be, in itself, a reason to believe the world is ending.)
Let's look into the sports world and see if anything alarming is happening there. Oh, Federer has won in straight sets. Nothing out of the ordinary there. Ho-hum. “Apocalypse shmapocalypse,” he seems to be saying with each methodical thrashing of the yellow felt orb.
OK, here’s something: Ann Coulter is viciously attacking the 9/11 widows: (“ I have never seen people enjoying their husbands' death so much."). Well, clearly nothing odd here. I mean if she had said something intelligent or compassionate, it might have tipped the evidentiary scales towards the conclusion of imminent catastrophe and warranted our whipping up a nice little something to serve the 4 horsemen when they arrive. But, no, we are safely in Terra Firma country on this one. I never thought heartlessness could be so existentially reassuring. Thank you Ann, baby. You’re beautiful.
As I return to my tireless search for signs and symbols, I wonder to myself, “Hmm. What could it be? What could truly confirm the imminence of the eschaton?” Maybe Pat Robertson saying something NON apocalyptic for a change. That’d sure get you thinking about the apocalypse. Or maybe the Very Reverend Mr. Robertson getting his Spiritual hearing aid fixed and hearing God correctly for a change-as He intones “Pat, you're a blathering dingleberry.” Or maybe something completely inconcievable. Like Dick Cheney smirking symmetrically?
Shudders. Now, THAT'd be enough to get me putting my affairs in order.
Oh thank you 6/6/6 for occasioning such heightened sense of Vigilance over our world and our times.
Wait, here's something for the end-of-the-world column.
John Updike-- the silver-haired, golden-tongued lettrist laureate of the bourgeousie—has written a book on terrorism?!?!? THAT”s out of the ordinary. He usually writes about suburbia. And, wait, Michiko Kakutani of the New York Times panned it! That's even more impressive. The New York Times slamming a John Updike offering??? That’s like The New York Post praising Hillary Clinton! Hmmm. I don’t want to be an alarmist, but…are those holocaustal fires I’m smelling?
Of course, as I'm scribbling these glib running notes on the day…I am aware that at any minute something could come along (another terrorist attack, a natural disaster, an unnatural disaster, a virgin birth, a rain of frogs, news of the break-up of Brad and Angelina etc.) to entirely overshadow all that preceded it--as the WTC attacks certainly eclipsed (and consigned to oblivion) whatever the second lead story of the day would have been. This is the case on any given day…and is in no way specific to a vigil for signs of the apocalypse. So ignore what I just said. The pressure of this high-anxiety hermaneutic exercise is clearly getting to me.
Ok, ok….relax Teddy. Maybe the world isn’t ending. Documents reveal the CIA knew of notorious Nazi Adolf Eichmann's whereabouts in Argentina in 1958 and did absolutely nothing to apprehend him. A perversely reassuring restoration of the expected order of things.
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/06/06/washington/06cnd-nazi.html?hp&ex=1149652800&en=5edc15401ea8ffdc&ei=5094&partner=homepage
Thank you CIA. I’m feeling much better now.
Of course, that said, I really wonder: What's more unsettling: The though that these things are confirmation of the End of The World or the realization that they are just evidence of business as usual?
OK, back to the headlines: Let’s see: Bush cynically peddling the ban on gay marriage bill. Again, reassuringly ordinary. On the other hand at this very moment not one of the top 8 stories on Yahoo concerns celebrity news or gossip. That is sort of creepy. I smell the distinct whiff of End times my friends.
What’s this? Species thought extinct spotted in Columbia. (http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20060606/sc_nm/environment_frogs_dc) Wow, coming back from extinction? Isn’t that something that’s supposed to happen at the end of time? Of course, I think these frogs didn’t really come back from extinction. What they didn’t mention was that these Columbian frogs were found with white powder coming out of their runny noses. No, they weren't extinct. They were just on an extended drug-fueled bender. I’m gonna file this one under hoax. Or at least misinterpretation.
Uh-oh.
A headline reads: “Scientology revs up to join NASCAR circuit.”
And now this:
“Scientists trying to clone human embryos.”
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20060606/ap_on_sc/harvard_cloning
And this:
Real body found at Fla. fake crime scene.
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20060606/ap_on_re_us/field_trip_body;_ylt=Amb5rb7Q6xg5fDEPWw6yPdys0NUE;_ylu=X3oDMTA3ODdxdHBhBHNlYwM5NjQ-
And this: (And, mind you, these are not coming from the Onion or The National Star, but from Yahoo news and The New York Times.)
Lioness in zoo kills man who invoked God
http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20060605/od_nm/ukraine_lion_dc;_ylt=AhQYA4AQzg
u5hlF2Y_6Q5_as0NUE;_ylu=X3oDMTA3ODdxdHBhBHNlYwM5NjQ-
And this:
A guy named Melky upstages everyone in the big Yankees-Red Sox game.
OK. The dam is breaking. The signs are coming down like frogs from the sky. I repent for my secular glibness. This isn’t funny. I get it…I’m being punished….OK…please stop already. Oh, no! And now this:
Study says millions have 'rage' disorder
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20060605/ap_on_sc/road_rage_disease;_ylt=AlNOT
jg1H2m_rIMvjEmKnaKs0NUE;_ylu=X3oDMTA3ODdxdHBhBHNlYwM5NjQ-
But the merciless Eternal One does not relent. In what may be the most compelling sign of the impending apocalypse yet, I see that David Lee Roth has become a blue grass singer…and one that makes John Tesch look like he's got the funk. Watch for yourself, ye doubters.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W9TlsVXnBn0
And, no, it can’t be. This would be the best story of the year if it weren’t the final confirmation of the End of the World: Three simple words my friends. Yes, the three simple words at the End of Time. No they are not "Datta. Dayadhvam. Damyata." They are not "Shanti shantih shantih." The are not “God is Great”. They are not “Meet your Maker.” They are…Mexican Midget Rodeo.
http://www.latimes.com/features/magazine/west/la-tm-losmatadoritos23jun04,0,5583652.story
OK, I have to go and put my affairs in order. It’s been beautiful my friends. It has been beautiful.
Tags:
None
© All rights reserved.
Posted on 6/9/2006
(
Permanent Link
)
Read 412 Times
Send to Friend
|
June 06, 2006
NEWS ITEM OF THE DAY:
According to The New York Review of Books, The Bush administration has been attempting a historically unprecedented power grab—with the executive branch of government surrepticiously usurping constitutionally allocated powers from the legislative branch. The main mechanism of this illicit transfer of power is an obscure practice started by Ronald Reagan known as the Signing Statement. Evidently, Signing Statements allow sitting presidents to officially record their concerns about and attitudes towards Bills that have been passed by Congress and which they are signing into Law. Reagan made a few such Signing Statements during his presidency and George H Bush and Clinton made use of the practice from time to time as well. Anyhow, Bush—no doubt under the influence of Imperial Veep Cheney—has made it common practice to make such officially recorded and obscurely phrased stipulations to the bills he’s signing into Law. And it is not the frequency of the practice that is alarming, but the nature of the stipulations. He has repeatedly used these statements for one simple purpose: To make it clear that –in his interpretation and under certain (in fact, present) conditions—the law does not pertain to him. To this point, Bush has written 750 such self-excepting Signing Statements. Never--mind you-in the public eye, during the smiling Bill Signing Photo-op. But secretly afterwards, with his legal advisors and Imperial Veep. It’s the classic Bush-Cheney Bait and switch. Sign a Bill Into Law with a big “Mission Accomplished” sign in the background, then secretly undo the bill you’ve just signed. Publicly promise funds on the rubble of Ground Zero or the recently flooded city square of New Orleans …and then quiety fail to send them. Promise to Leave no Child Behind. And then carrot in the word “wealthy” between “no” and “Child.” Sign the Health Care Bill with some kindly looking ethnic old folks beside you and then run off to back slap and smoke cigars with Pharmaceutical execs who are the real beneficiaries of the bill. Sign A Clean Skies Bill with all kinds of green looking paraphernalia and then whoop it up with the industrial leaders who are left exempt from the bill by grace of a cynically crafted loophole. It's as if the entire administration has been operating like a kid making promises with his fingers crossed. It’s cartoonish in every way. Except for the being funny part.
In summary:
The President praises the Lay-Skilling verdict for its bracing reminder that no one-- regardless of how rich and powerful-- is above the law. And then whispers to himself. “Except me.” And gives that “Gee I’d love to have a beer with that rascal” chuckle.
"WHO WOULDA THOUGHT?" SEGMENT OF THE DAY:
Who woulda thought...
That the government would snub NYC in its request for anti-terrorism funding and instead give those funds to terrorist targets in the midwest and southwest where Republcan votes are needed in the coming election? (Ok, just kidding about the "who would have thought?" on this one.)
That something as important as the War against Terrorism (Or whatever Bush-Cheney are calling it these days) would be subjected to the forces of pork barreling and political self interest? (Ditto the parenthetic comment above).
That with all the acutely real problems in the world, the government has decided to prioritize "The Ban on Gay Marriage" as the most pressing issue of the day? (Ditto the parenthetic comments above about ditto-ing the parenthetic comment above).
That we would ever reach the point where these kind of things fail to shock or surprise and can't even merit inclusion in a "who woulda thought?" list as anything other than a joke?
TROUBLING HEADLINE OF THE DAY:
Schwarzenegger To Order Troops To Border.
http://news.yahoo.com/fc/us/immigration
Sieg Arnold?
DESCRIPTION OF THE DAY:
The veterans of war tip-toed through the minefields of memory.
DESCRIPTION OF THE DAY #2:
My NYC Cabbie: One ear to me, the other to Karachi.
QUOTE OF THE DAY:
From a NYT review of a book about film criticism.
"His overblown film reviews read like bad poetry, just like his poetry."
-Clive James writing about Carl Sandburg
SPORTS-RELATED QUOTE OF THE DAY:
"I loved the way he played and how he never backed down from anything. He was an incredible teammate. He was a warrior, and I always felt you'd have to kill him to get the upper hand on him. If every player in the NFL had as much heart and desire as he had, football would be illegal."
-Curtis Martin on Wayne Chrebet
CELEBRITY NEWS OF THE DAY:
Anna Nicole Smith is reportedly pregnant. But I suspect if they did a sonogram, they’d find a donut.
COGNATIVE DISSONANCE OF THE DAY:
Wow. They broke up a major terrorist plot to attack Canada. Canada?? I sort of feel the way I did when that guy tried to kill George Harrison. Wrong country,. Wrong Beatle. Wrong everything.
"LET ME GET THIS STRAIGHT" MOMENT OF THE DAY:
In the wake of all of the well-publicized problems in Iraq (from Abu Graib to the recent apparent mass killings by Marines), the government is proposing a "Values Course" for American GIs (what Maureen Dowd has referred to as “remedial decency.”). But wait, I thought we were over there BECAUSE of our values. So let me get this straight: We went to war on the basis of democratic values (reason number 3 after our first two rationales --WMDs and Osama Bin Laden link--proved groundless and, hence, the rationale we are stuck with) and now we're gonna finally get around to teaching our soldiers those values 3 years into the mission??? Ok, no problem. Just wanted to make sure.
METAPHOR OF THE DAY:
When someone says to you—as someone in fact said to me the other night—that she feels that “Vodka is the white zinfandel of alcoholic beverages”, well this is cause for concern—both at an alcoholic and linguistic level. It’s like saying: I think peyote is the marijuana of drugs. Or Strawberry Cheesecake is the Pop Tart of sweets.
You don’t know whether to suggest a 12 step program or remedial English classes. Of course, one sort of gets what she means. But wouldn’t it be nice to establish a little more categorical separation between the metaphor and the referent?
REPRESENTATIVE ANECDOTE OF THE DAY:
At the Mets games at Shea, they have this bizarre little between innings entertainment on the Diamond Vision electronic billboard where 4 different colored cars race and you have to pick which one is going to win. I kept thinking. This is an absurd exercise that essentially makes monkeys of us all. We are actually investing time and energy rooting for an outcome that we have absolutely no control over. Then I turned back to the game and realized it was—of course—a three hour long (no, make that a season long) exercise in the exact same thing. Word to the Mets organization on the cleverly mocking self-reflexive meta-commentary.
DANGLING CLAUSE OF THE DAY:
…with the life expectancy of a Grateful Dead keyboard player.
THING I REMEMBER FROM MY DREAM:
That I ordered the epistemological salad.
PHENOMENON THAT SHOULD HAVE ITS OWN WORD OF THE DAY:
Seeing the typo after pressing “send.”
DADA-INSPIRED POLITICAL BUMPER STICKERS OF THE DAY:
Anti-Troops. Pro-War.
Shhh. It’s in our interest to keep it secret.
NOTE OF THE DAY/SIGN OFF OF THE DAY:
In the remote case that there is any merit to this whole 6/6/6 thing and it does turn out to be the end of the world, I just wanted to wish you all a splendid final few hours on earth and to let you know how eternally moved I am that you chose to spend a few moments of that time with my electronically transmitted words. If, on the other hand, this whole 6/6/6 thing turns out to have been a travesty of a mockery of a sham with less truth behind it than the case for War in Iraq, then I take back the electronically transmitted gooeyness at the end of the last sentence...or at least retroactively reduce it to contextually appropriate levels.
Tags:
None
© All rights reserved.
Posted on 6/6/2006
(
Permanent Link
)
Read 407 Times
Send to Friend
|
|
|
|
|
|